He shivered, because that was one hot lion.
Shit, Johnny had looked good. He always looked good. He was allowed to say that, right? That his best friend looked good all laid out beneath him? Or that when they smashed their mouths together Taylor would have happily choked to death on Johnny’s tongue.
Bugger.
Bugger.
Bugger.
He was never going to be able to look at Johnny’s mouth the same way, was he? His deep bow, the smoothness of his top lip compared to the slightly chapped bottom. The way they were two different colours, the bottom one pinker than the top. And his tongue, so soft and wet. And Johnny better never lick a lollipop again or Taylor might have to?—
“Why do you look constipated all of a sudden?” Amil said, ripping Taylor out of his dirty,dirtythoughts.
Taylor laughed—manically—because that felt like the only appropriate response. “This should be high enough,” he said, voice strained as he stopped the lift at the edge of the roof. “Shout over the radio and let Aquaman know to bring that inflatable pad thingy, just in case.”
There was a narrow walkway snaking between two pitched roofs, with industrial sized air vents poking up from the tiles. A flat patch of roof lay at the end with a massive, ancient looking air conditioning unit, and Taylor had no idea how thefucka kid managed to get inside it.
“Do you want to stay here?” he said, elbowing Amil’s shoulder.
“Ah… yeah,” he replied, tapping his radio. “I’ll update the sarge.”
Taylor nodded, gently settling Amil so he sat with his back pressed to the lift control panel.
He couldn’t deny that when he stepped out onto the roof there was a moment where his legs turned to jelly and he thought he was going to have to ask the fire brigade to rescue him after all.
But fuck that, and fuck the fire service, because it passed after a couple of seconds all on its own.
He took a breath and looked around. The views were really quite stunning from up high. On one side it was endless fields, all neatly tilled by farmers who probably had severe OCD. On theother—on the Falkington side—there were ugly concrete high-rises and storm clouds that seemed to hang over that area in particular.
Maybe West Newton wasn’t so bad after all.
He caught the smell of weed almost immediately, and he braced a hand against one of the sloped roofs as he stepped awkwardly between them. It was easier said than done in all his kit, because it was like walking a tightrope with a lopsided, two-stone weight on his back.
He sniffed. It didn’t smell like the kid was smoking it at that precise moment in time, but it was strong enough that it made his nose wrinkle.
Reaching the end of the walkway, Taylor looked back and gave Amil a thumbs up. Amil responded with the middle finger, so he knew he must be alright. Taylor rolled his eyes before stepping around the corner and onto the flat section of the roof.
There were glass skylights running all along the middle section, andshitting titsif that didn’t give Taylor the most unpleasant sense of inertia. He pictured that one scene fromFinal Destination, where the guy fell through a roof and his femurs shot up through his armpits in a fountain of blood.
The air conditioning unit hummed, and Taylor realised there were more vents attached to the side of it. All of them were closed, but he could hear movement echoing from behind two of them.
Well, screw breaking both his legs, because he immediately lurched forwards and hooked his fingers into one of the metal grates andpulled.
It opened more easily than expected, and there came a sudden high-pitched squeal, followed by a barrage of swearing, kicking legs and flailing arms. Taylor threw his head back as a pair of ratty old trainers nearly knocked his teeth out, eyes going wide when he realised who it was.
“William?” he said, leaning back and bracketing his arms either side of the vent. “Jesus, kid. What’re you doing up here?”
“Go away!” William cried, his lips peeling back over his tiny teeth. “Go away, go away!”
Taylor took a breath, clenching his jaw as William started pummelling his stab vest. He was dirty and pale, and smelled like damp, which Taylor guessed meant he’d been out there all night.
“Stop it,” Taylor said, gripping William’s shoulder.
“Go away!”
“What’re you doing here, dude? Don’t you know how dangerous it is?”
“I don’t care, I don’t care!” William cried, backing off and pressing himself into the corner of the small enclosure.
