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Niall Lynch’s son was going to ruin the Gray Man’s life. It was as simple as that.The job hadn’t particularly stood out to the Gray Man more than any other. He was hired to kill. The method itself, the tire iron, had been a little more theatrical and gruesome than usual, but that was his client all over and he didn’t care enough to judge. Greenmantle had insisted that the Gray Man send a message, and oh, it would.Niall Lynch’s head looked not much like a head anymore and the Gray Man had come up behind him so he lay face down in the gravel. He wouldn’t have minded the sight of the face, though he preferred it this way. He glanced up at the house right as he was about to leave. He knew the man had a family. The Gray Man had come from one of those once. The house was quiet. He left.At first the eldest Lynch had just been the Lynch Boy in the Gray Man’s mind. He was mildly impressed by him in the dorm room at the fancy all boy’s school. Effervescence. Was there some truth in that? But soon, the Gray Man kept seeing the angry middle one, and therefore Niall Lynch’s sons had to be given names.Declan. Ronan. The younger one who the Gray Man had never met, Matthew.Declan.There had been nothing there to begin with, the Greywaren was the Gray Man’s sole focus, a fancy front for the real focus, which was getting paid. He needed to live. His line of work wasn’t typical, but he was good at it and he liked being good at it.When faced with Declan Lynch, that first day and then at intervals afterwards, he was an obstacle, a stubborn, secretive one who, the Gray Man sensed, tried his best to not appear as an obstacle to anyone else. But he became one for the Gray Man, he gave it to him, intentionally or not. He was unremarkable too, or at least, he would’ve been if the Gray Man hadn’t bust his door in and found him sitting there, fear crossing his face, followed swiftly by the realisation that it was finally happening. Declan Lynch had been waiting for something like this to happen. He had been waiting for the Gray Man.Two years later, he had kept his word and he’d also managed to get the Gray Man on side as well. It was an amazing feat really, but the Gray Man wouldn’t tell him that. There were many things he wouldn’t tell him.But there was this.Declan, dull and gray, nodding and giving simple, disguised answers.Declan dressed in a suit and tie.Declan in the passenger seat of the Gray Man’s car.Declan lying on the bed, blue eyes brilliant, colour high in his cheeks, the mystery of him lay out for the Gray Man to see, but not to understand.Smiling with blood in his teeth.Kneeling on the floor.Holding onto the Gray Man’s arm, pulling him in, pressing their foreheads together.Burying his face in the pillow so the Gray Man wouldn’t see that he was crying, unaware that the Gray Man knew he cried every single time.The mystery of him.The feelings afterwards, difficult or otherwise.Declan Lynch, with his dark hair and pale skin. The split lip from a brawl with his brother, the shaking hands, the intense eyes. The blame that he enacted over and over again, the protectiveness the Gray Man felt for him, despite this. The way he looked at him, fierce but trusting. Trust for the man who had killed his father. The knowledge that Declan needed professional help, not a relationship with an older man, but the Gray Man was in it for himself. Declan was twenty-one years old and was interested in the Gray Man who was pushing forty-five. But he took Declan’s trust, along with his anger and his spite because it was the price to pay to have this secret.He stared out of the windscreen at the lashing rain. There was nothing to see, wipers off, car stationary. He was trapped in a metal box right in the middle of the end of the world for all he knew.Then, like a spell being broken, the passenger door opened and the Gray Man breathed in the wet air that came with it, his shadowy thoughts vanquished as Declan climbed inside the car. He was rain-spattered and out of breath. His sudden appearance set into motion all kinds of thoughts in the Gray Man’s head, like he had been still for so long and now he was being pushed suddenly and abruptly downhill. The motion was immediate, his heart ramped up, his blood raced, adrenaline sparked. But he sat very still and watched.Declan asked for the engine to be turned on, then reached for the dial to turn the heat up and pushed damp hair back from his face. He sat back in the passenger seat, lips pressed together, breathing through his nose.The Lynch nose. Niall had it before the Gray Man ground him into the dirt. The other two had it as well, though Declan’s had a lump between his eyes, perhaps from a break previously. The Gray Man had kissed him there before.“Look, I haven’t got much time today,” Declan said and he finally looked over at the Gray Man who was here on his request.“That’s fine,” he told him.Declan had been to the gym, dressed in a hoodie and running shorts, white socks pulled halfway up his calves and plain white sneakers on his feet. The Gray Man considered enquiring about his fitness regime, how much he was pressing, how far he was running, but he didn’t. He sensed that Declan was waiting to get something off his chest, so he stayed quiet.“I’ve met someone.”The Gray Man nodded. This was expected, of course it was and the Gray Man himself had encouraged it avidly.“Good,” he said. “That’s good, Declan. That’s great.”Declan was looking over at him apprehensively so the Gray Man carried on.“I’m pleased for you. Who is…she? He?”“She. Jordan.”The Gray Man nodded encouragingly, then couldn’t stop himself. I told you so.“Didn’t I tell you this would happen? You’re getting all hung up on me when you should be with someone your own age. Someone suitable.”“Quit the lecture,” Declan sighed.The Gray Man smiled. “I’m happy for you, let’s just leave it at that, then. Do you need a ride somewhere?”“Yeah,” Declan said, “I ran here, but it wasn’t raining then.”“Sure.”The Gray Man pulled onto the road and drove Declan back to his townhouse near the river and neither of them spoke until they got there.“Wanna come in?” Declan asked and the Gray Man checked his expression and found that he was being genuine. He’d never been inside Declan’s home before. He had driven past enough times, but he’d never been invited in. It was an unspoken part of their arrangement, he’d always assumed, but he got out of the car now and followed him up the front steps.Inside, Declan dropped his keys and phone on a console table by the wall and the Gray Man shut the door, pulling the handle up, looking around to find a tasteful, clean interior. Not many twenty-one year old’s houses looked like this, he was sure, but then, not many twenty-one year old's could afford houses like this.Declan was young, hot and rich. The Gray Man was doing well enough for himself with the royalties from his books and of course, his side hustle as a hitman, but it was nothing compared to the empire Niall Lynch had left for his eldest son. And it sat nice and heavy on his shoulders, either side of his perfect face.“Am I gonna meet your brother?” The Gray Man asked, joking really, but Declan looked at him like he’d been serious and he was stupid to have asked. “I’m kidding, Declan.”“I’m gonna grab a shower,” Declan said, ignoring him and he climbed the stairs two at a time leaving the Gray Man in the hallway. He looked around, found the living room with its twin leather couches that flowed into a kitchen with clean, marble worktops. The whole place had the feel of a showhome. It was fitting. This was Declan’s outward personality, his public persona. The clean-cut, easy to swallow version of him. The Gray Man’s mind flickered with images of him lying across a hotel room bed with tear-filled eyes. That boy wasn’t a showhome. He was for the Gray Man’s eyes only. Or he used to be.Somewhere above, water started running.The Gray Man crossed back into the hall and picked up Declan’s phone. He’d seen him enter the passcode enough times over his shoulder and his fingers tingled as soon as he’d gained access. He opened the messages, finding Jordan’s name at the top and tapping through short messages that didn’t give much away except dates and times and one single message that stood out more than any of the others.
I know you declan lynch
There was no context, perhaps preceded or followed by a call, but it didn’t matter. The Gray Man tapped into Declan’s camera roll instead, hoping to find a picture of the couple, or of Jordan on her own, but there wasn’t any. There was nothing much at all. Pictures of Matthew. A screenshot of an online order. Photos of the river at dawn, at dusk, at midday with the sun glittering on its surface. He locked the phone and put it back on the table.The water kept running.He climbed the stairs slowly, admiring the artwork along the wall until he realised it was boring, placeholder art that screamed IKEA. When he reached the top, he found the clothes Declan had been wearing slung into a hamper by the wall. He tucked the shorts in properly and closed the lid.“Declan?” He called, then again. “Declan? I’m gonna go.”The water stopped abruptly.“What?” Declan called back.“I’m going.”The Gray Man turned and started back down the stairs and the bathroom door opened, warm steam spilling out.“Wait,” Declan said, but the Gray Man didn’t and made it to the hallway, turning finally and only at, “Dean, wait.”Declan had a large bath towel hastily thrown around him which he was repositioning and tucking around his waist as he came quickly down the stairs. Droplets of water sat on his bare skin and his wet hair looked black.“Why are you leaving?” He asked, confused.“I don’t really know what I’m doing here,” the Gray Man explained. “I’m happy to give you a ride, but I’m not gonna hang around. You said you didn’t have much time. You’ve got plans.”“I just needed to get out of my gym clothes,” Declan said and then he was moving towards the Gray Man who met him in the middle, pushing him into the wall at the bottom of the stairs, kissing him and running his hands through his wet hair. Relief. Heart-stopping relief. The Gray Man shrugged off his jacket and kissed him, open-mouthed down his neck and across his shoulder, then forced him down into a sitting position on the third step and ripped his towel loose, taking hold of his cock which was damp and warm from the shower. Declan leaned back, letting the Gray Man get him off like it was inevitable, looking up into his eyes, then down at his hand, then up again, the look on his face a sort of pained, disbelieving frown that the Gray Man recognised.“Come on,” the Gray Man encouraged him in a low voice and kneeled on the step below Declan, his knees either side of his legs. He lifted his free hand and hooked his thumb into Declan’s mouth, pushing into the soft inner cheek, feeling his teeth, then pressing down on his tongue.“I know you,” he told him. “I know you.” He wanted him to understand this.Declan didn’t reply, but he sucked the Gray Man’s thumb and the Gray Man tilted his face down to spit and he gathered it with his fingers on an upward stroke and smeared it around, up and down Declan’s cock making his hand slide easier, faster.He considered putting it in his mouth, he knew how much Declan liked it, but that’s what ultimately stopped him. It had been weeks since the fight and Declan’s confession when the Gray Man had promised to make it up to him. He’d sucked his cock for the first time and had learned that no one had ever done that for Declan before, not even the silly high school girls who he had gone through like matches when he was younger.The Gray Man had inadvertently made Declan’s reliance on him, his fixation, even worse. Declan lived in a world where the only person who could give him what he needed was the Gray Man, and the Gray Man had shown him a way he could take everything Declan was thinking, every worry he was having in that moment, put it in his mouth and swallow it. This wasn’t true, of course, but it kept him coming back like a loyal puppy.The Gray Man had done it in the car and then again in a restaurant bathroom and he was worried that Declan’s, I want to be with you, would turn into something more. It was the way he had looked at him, like he could do no wrong, like he was sent from On High. And he wore that same face now with his cock in the Gray Man’s fist.The Gray Man took his thumb from his mouth and ran his fingers over the firm muscle of Declan’s chest, rubbing the wet thumb over his left nipple and Declan shuddered and said, “Ah, Dean,” to which the Gray Man responded by circling it, bringing it to his own mouth to suck it and returning to rub over the small, hardened nub. Declan arched his back into the touch.“You make this so easy,” the Gray Man murmured.“Yeah.”“You’re a good boy, Declan.”And that was it, that was all it took.Declan came over his own stomach and chest with a moan, scrunching his eyes shut and gritting his teeth, the last of the cum running down the Gray Man’s fingers and at the last second, Declan wrapped his own hand around the Gray Man’s to make sure he didn’t let go. He looked down at himself then and lifted his hand, palm up to the Gray Man like an offering and the Gray Man didn’t hesitate before leaning forward, taking hold of his wrist and licked the cum from his fingers. Declan made an approving sound in the back of his throat and when his hand was clean, the Gray Man closed his eyes, pressing a kiss to his palm, opening his mouth and breathing against his skin.He wondered what Declan was like when he was with Jordan. Did he look at her with eyes like that? Did he let her see those parts of him?He opened his eyes and looked at Declan who looked back, his pale cheeks and chest flushed, then the Gray Man got to his feet, wiping his own hand briefly on Declan’s towel.“Are you gonna tell your girlfriend about this?”Declan wiped his body with the towel, then stood up, wrapping it around his waist again.“I didn’t ask you to do that.”“You didn’t ask me to stop either,” the Gray Man pointed out.To his surprise, Declan moved on without further protest. “Are you gonna leave now?”“If that’s what you’d like.” The Gray Man lifted a hand to run his fingers through Declan’s hair, the ends drying lighter and curling and Declan leaned into the touch, infuriatingly sweet and endearing, but seemed to catch himself and pulled away again stiffly.“Yeah,” he said, “I think that would be for the best.”“Sure,” the Gray Man said, bending to pick his jacket up off the floor and he went for the door.“Remember that night we went to the wine bar and you told me about your trip to England and then we had sex in that beautiful bathroom in the hotel?” Declan’s words stopped the Gray Man’s progress and he turned to look at him, frowning.“Yes,” he said, reflecting on the night, remembering above all else that he got black out drunk and had odd, disjointed memories that resurfaced out of the mire like new events even now, many weeks later.“Remember you kneeled at my feet and told me you’d do anything for me?” Declan went on.The Gray Man tried to laugh to hide how uncomfortable he felt being told things about himself that he couldn’t recollect. There had been a lot of wine. “You know I don’t remember half of that night.”“So you wouldn’t do anything for me?” Declan asked, still holding his towel with one hand.“Well, that depends on what you want,” The Gray Man said, smiling. “What was I doing on my knees?”“Not that,” Declan said with the ghost of a smirk.“That makes it worse.”“Worse?”“Look, I’m leaving, alright?” The Gray Man said and he had made it to the front door and was halfway out before Declan spoke again.“I really didn’t call you today for this. I just haven’t figured out how to…” he hesitated. “How to do this without you yet.”His words were incredibly weighty and the Gray Man propped the door open with his elbow. He didn’t hesitate as well, but he took a few moments to pick his words. The relief was still there but it was mixed with restless anxiety that made him want to run.“Well, I’m not going anywhere.” A pause. “And I know where you live.”“You already knew.”“I already knew,” the Gray Man confirmed, nodding and Declan smiled in a way that made it impossible to leave, made the impulse to run melt into nothing.He lingered.He'd won him back, resetting the dependence every time he touched him.Declan's smile turned into something curious as he tilted his head to one side.The Gray Man quickly acknowledged that there was something here he didn't want to lose.And then he left, moving swiftly down the front steps to get out of the rain and he climbed into his car. He drove away, thinking of Declan, his chest tight and warm with the memory.Niall Lynch’s son was going to ruin the Gray Man’s life. It was as simple as that.