Trin

In a future where outposts swelter beneath a nuclear sun and run-gunners patrol dusty wastelands to protect against winged creatures known as devlars, Trin is the mech at the waystation in Arens. He has a thing for the gunners: rough men with strong hands and hard bodies, who roll through his garage like the hot desert wind. Gerrick’s the best gunner around, a quick draw with a deadly aim and a penchant for sharing his pallet with young men. He has a roving eye and roaming hands, and has left a string of broken hearts in his wake. Having heard the tales of Gerrick's bravery and seen the man in action for himself, Trin has fallen in love with the man he believes Gerrick to be, and he’s sure he can change the gunner’s mind if given the chance. Gerrick’s all he wants out of this blasted world, and he tells anyone who will listen. Then Gerrick rides through Arens. He’s heard the rumors of what Trin will do for a gunner who only mentions his name. What he wants to know is, what will Trin do for him?

J.M. Snyder · LGBT+

Classificações insuficientes

44 Chs

Chapter 21

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When Gerrick comes into the room, Trin is sitting on the windowsill, staring out at the junkyard below. Chrome and metal gleam in the morning sun and above the palisade, the sky is already the washed out color of the gunner’s jeans. Trin’s been thinking about what he overheard downstairs. One word stands stark in his mind—bullet.

Out in the wastelands, Gerrick wears a pair of revolvers slung low on his hips…Trin saw them when he rode in. His saddlebags are filled with gunpowder, wrapped in little twists of paper like party favors. He’s the fastest draw in all the outposts, shoots with a deadly aim, both hands equally sharp. He’s a gunner, for Christ’s sake. He makes a living from bullets and pistols. He kills.

Devlars,Trin assures himself. He looks up as Gerrick enters, a little surprised the gunner came back. Preybirds. Not people.

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