Chapter Three Like Real People Do
chapter three
Like Real People Do
Aaron sank deeper into his scarf, each breath a struggle against the tight coil of dread in his chest. His pulse thundered, erratic and deafening, threatening to crack through the cool facade he clung to with brittle fingers. His gaze latched onto the man stepping behind the podium.
Dr Kenneth Lyons.
His name was a jagged edge in his mind, sharp and unrelenting. The Dr Kenneth Lyons. The one he’d spent years tracking, obsessing over, chasing through whispers and records, only to collide with under flashing strobe lights, in a haze of proximity that still burned like fire on his skin. He’d seen that face tilted back in pleasure, felt those hands branding him in the dark. He’d dreamed about that night every moment since. And now here he was. Real. Unavoidable. Positioned at the helm of this room, commanding it.
Discussing Aaron’s life.
Aaron swallowed, the sound loud in his ears, the realisation gnawing at him with sharp, merciless teeth. It was him. No doubt. The man from his birthday now encased in authority and surrounded by expectant students. Dr Kenneth Lyons—the man he’d been determined to meet since uncovering his name.
Had he known?
Had he pieced it together yet?
Aaron’s stomach fluttered. He didn’t think so. He couldn’t have. But then again…
The pink of his hair, usually a bold declaration to the world to stay the fuck away, now felt like a beacon screaming look at me , spotlighting him among the sea of strangers. Desperation clawed at him as he dragged some strands into his face, tilting his head down to shrink into nothing.
Don’t draw attention to yourself.
Yeah, fucking great advice, but it was useless now.
He dared a glance up, gaze snagging on Kenny’s movements. Each shift of his body had Aaron’s stomach coiled tighter with every second passing. He could almost taste the memory of him. His scent. The force of his hands. The whispered growl still crawling under his skin.
But it wasn’t the man from that night anymore. It was something worse. Dr Kenneth Lyons, larger than life, intimidating in his knowledge, and far too close to the truth Aaron had buried. The man he’d spent years preparing for, watching from a distance, learning from. And now, every inch of Aaron’s carefully constructed plan teetered on the edge of collapse because he wasn’t ready. He’d thought he was, but the sight of Lyons behind the podium, powerful and commanding, gutted him.
You’ve come this far. Don’t fuck this up now.
But the pressure suffocated him, the air charged with an energy threatening to pull him apart. Unable to resist, he lifted his gaze and Kenny held it. Just for a second. A second too long. Turning the world to static. And in that moment, Aaron swore Kenny saw him. Really saw him. Not just as a student, not even as the twink from that night, but as someone with secrets Kenny didn’t yet know to fear.
Aaron’s breath caught. He couldn’t tell if it was triumph or terror clawing its way up his throat. Maybe both.
But he was shunted out of it when the girl next to him nudged his knee with her own, leaning in to hush her voice, “He’s like Indiana Jones for the Criminal Minds’ fangirls.” She then wafted a pack of mints under his nose.
Relieved by the intrusion, Aaron ripped his scrutiny off Dr Kennth Lyons to the offer of a chance to dull the recollected taste of his professor’s spunk in his mouth with a Trebor Extra Strong. He squirmed out of his scarf. “Huh?”
“Him. Professors are hot these days.” At least she kept her voice hushed enough so as not to alert anyone to their muted conversation in the front row.
Why he was in the front row summed up his life. He’d been late. He was always late. But he hadn’t envisaged the queue for the bathroom on the first Monday of classes to be as long as it had been and as he hadn’t showered since the man currently talking about evil in front of him right then had had his hand around his cock, he couldn’t forgo the wash.
The girl waggled the mints again.
Aaron took one, popped it in his mouth and sank lower into his scarf to focus his attention back on Doctor Lyons.
Despite his initial faff and sliver of recognition causing his stammer, he had the same aura he’d had on Saturday night. A presence commanding attention. And that suit . It hugged him in all the ways he shouldn’t have noticed. Aaron cocked his head as Lyons twisted, leaning over the desk to press the keyboard to bring up the next slide. He had a slight pang of regret about not having squeezed that arse.
And a huge pang of regret for not having listened to the alarm bells.
Talk about danger zone.
Lyons wriggled out of his jacket, sweat marks already forming under his pits, and Aaron glimpsed a soft tuft of hair spilling out from his open collar. Yeah, okay. The girl was right. He was a hot professor. But he avoided looking at Aaron again. To anyone else, nothing would seem untoward. Their shared recognition was over in a blink. But to him, it had felt like an eternity. The eye contact. The stark realisation. The flashback to when they’d been each other’s source of temporary amnesia in the backroom of a basement nightclub.
Wouldn’t know it to look at him now, though.
Aaron was impressed.
Lyons stopped abruptly, motioning toward the screen behind him. The haunting, grainy image of Norman Bates loomed large, an iconic reminder of fictionalised evil and his voice sliced through the heavy air, sharp and commanding.
“This isn’t Criminal Minds, or any of those ludicrous shows glorifying the Behaviour Analysis Unit as psychic detectives able to pluck the inner workings of a killer’s mind from thin air.” His words carried a sharp edge of disdain, but they were solid, like the blows of a hammer striking steel. “This is real work. Hard work. You will need to think. To question. Dissect. Theorise and prove your hypothesis with unflinching rigour.” Lyons then struck his fist down hard on the wooden surface with a crack echoing like a gunshot. “You’ll need to pay attention !”
A visible jolt ran through the students, nervous laughter rippling in pockets of the room. Not Aaron, though. His heart leapt . Cock stirred. The punishing authority. The dark gravitas. It ignited Aaron’s chest with a burning flame and he grinned, a predatory curl he masked behind his knuckles. But beneath the surface, his mind thrummed with a dangerous thrill.
His attention had already been bought and paid for.
Lyons stopped, planting himself in the centre of the room. He swept his gaze over the students, and then his words dropped like a guillotine. “What is evil ?”
Aaron stiffened, the question reverberating through him like a tuning fork. He knew the answer. Or at least his own version of it. But the way Dr Lyons asked, as though demanding the truth from some shadowy abyss within each of them, sent a shiver up his spine.
“Is evil born? Or is it made? Is it the monster hiding under the bed? Or is it the person sitting next to you?”
Lyons was off in his element, clicking through the various slides of his intro presentation. Aaron’s vision blurred. Because the images flashing before him weren’t the characters of evil but Dr Lyons’ kiss. His hand around his throat. Sharp teeth sinking into his neck. And he couldn’t make out anything over the penetrating voice holding him hostage. Kenny had masked his accent further, giving it all the vibes of an academic poshness that had Aaron’s detachment wavering, curiosity pricking his resolve, and straining to listen through the dull roar of his internal conflict.
Except it wasn’t the words talking through the complexity of evil echoing in his mind, it was, “Take more. Good boy. Like sucking my cock, huh?” Along with his own whimpers. Racing pulse. And his garbled release along with the slap, slap, slap of flesh on flesh.
Lyons clicked to the next slide . “Some say the Howells were born evil. Others argue they were made. Shaped by circumstance and moulded by trauma. But the truth? That’s for us to uncover. For you to uncover.”
The lecture continued, the words barely registering as Aaron’s mind churned. Dr Kenneth Lyons might not realise it yet, but he was circling closer to the edge, closer to the truth.
“What is evil?” Dr Lyons asked .
Aaron leaned back in his chair. You’re looking right at it, Doc.
But for the next hour, Aaron played up to the next word highlighted on the screen. Obedience . And the lecture rattled on, ending with students bolting out of their seats to rush down the stairs and get their fifteen seconds with Dr Kenneth Lyons. The best thing for Aaron to do was scarper, so he gathered up his stuff when a hand thrust at him.
“Melanie,” the girl next to him said. “Mel, if you like.”
Aaron stared at her hand, weighing up all the options. He hadn’t offered his friendship to anyone. Not at the various schools he’d attended. Nor during the ridiculous activities the virtual schools put on for kids like him. Or at anything Jervine, his sort-of social worker, set him up for. He liked it that way. Apart from the sort-of-siblings he’d had in the halfway house, he’d been a loner. He hadn’t touched another human being unless he was being fucked, for he didn’t even know how long. He was fairly certain he was toxic . But she was giving off poison vibes herself. Externally, that was. Her goth aesthetic was a monochrome contrast against the lecture hall’s attempt at warmth, her presence as definitive as the black ink on a blank page. She was probably an absolute sweetheart beneath the guise of a metal head, black hair and a nose bolt. Aaron appreciated those who hid their true selves. The same way he did with his dusky pink hair, a nose ring, and tattoos.
And like Dr Kenneth Lyons did, it would seem.
He shook her hand. “Aaron.”
It was getting easier to utter the name. Unlike the rest of the population, whose parents provided them with their name and had to pretend they were grateful for it, he had no one to thank but himself. Running out of things to call him, having had to change it several times over the years, the authorities had let him choose this one. He’d agreed to the first one on the alphabetised list.
“You smoke?” Mel asked.
“When I can.”
“Good.” They stood, their seats flopping back, and she slipped her arm into his. “We can go out together before we have to head to the seminar. I’m gasping!”
Looked as though he’d found a bff. Not a loner, after all.
Take that, Jervine.
They made their way out of the Lecture Theatre, through the airy corridor where students queued at various coffee machines or tuck shops to get their fill before the next class, to emerge outside over on the deck set out for the smokers and vapers.
“What did you think?” Mel asked, producing a vape as black as her hair.
Aaron pulled his pink one out. Kindred spirits, after all. “About what?”
“The lecture. You didn’t take any notes. You want me to send you mine?”
God, she was friendly. Why? Was it because they both wore the misfit vibe as though it were a badge of honour?
“S’okay,” Aaron said, gaze drifting to the opening doors where a crowd scurried out from the lecture theatre, Lyons amongst the horde.
Aaron’s heart leapt. Which was the only time he’d ever known it to do that and solved the conundrum he’d signed up for this course to solve in the first fucking place. He should leave right then. Job done.
Thank you, Dr Lyons, you have confirmed that I am human. I can feel.
But the human psyche wasn’t that simple.
Didn’t he know all about that?
The revolving doors opened again, and Kenny’s scent hit Aaron like a bullet. Cloying. Damn fucking masculine. On point. Like all the others following him out, Aaron nearly drifted after him unconsciously, feet elevating off the ground, caught in his siren spell.
Mel grounded him. “Absolute fucking morons.” She folded her arms, blowing out a vape. “As if they think getting in his pants will get them a first. Pretty sure it’s against policy, anyway.”
“What is?”
“Fucking your student. They’d fire him.”
Aaron snapped back to face her and wondered, for a smidgen, if maybe he’d just had his life made. One hedonistic choice in a bar could lead to him raking up the best damn degree result this university had ever seen. He’d get on the Master’s, PhD paid for, with his own private office and tenured. Keep his mouth shut, he could be on for an easy ride.
Experience told him an easy ride only came with consequences.
And he hadn’t come here for an easy ride. Nor a degree.
He’d come here for Dr Kenneth Lyons.
“Fancy a coffee?” Mel asked. “We got twenty minutes before the seminar.”
“Tea. Don’t drink coffee.” That earned a gasp. Seriously, every fucking time. Not everyone drank coffee. And he was aware he didn’t look like the average tea drinker. But coffee gave him a headache and tasted like the warmed up soil hiding dead bodies.
“Back in a mojo.” Off Mel skipped inside the building.
Breathing in other people’s cigarette smoke gave Aaron the usual rush of cravings his menthol vape wouldn’t quash. But the cost of a packet these days could feed him for a week. An opportunity to get his fix presented itself when a couple over on a bench had an open pack between them.
“Mate, you got a spare?”
He got the usual look. No one wants to give away their cigarettes. There’s no such thing as a spare one. Every white stick in that pack was destined to be inhaled by the person who forked out the fifteen quid to pay for them. So Aaron dug into his denim jacket pocket and produced the pound coin found in an ASDA trolley that he hadn’t squandered on a scratch card. He handed it over.
Unable to argue with a more than fair transaction, the man of the couple handed him a Mayfair. Shit . His pound outweighed the nicotine on this, but beggars and choosers weren’t in bed together. So he borrowed the bloke’s lighter, lit the stick that gave only the smallest of buzzes, and collapsed down on a bench, turning his back on them, which had him facing another man with an ingratiating smile heading toward him.
Jesus. Fuck.
He couldn’t cut a break.
“Hey, Aaron!” Liam, the bloke from the admissions office, approached him. “How are you?”
“Fine.”
“First lecture?” Liam couldn’t take a hint. Paid not to. And Aaron wondered how much the annual take home salary was for dealing with shits like him five days a week. Not enough, whatever it was.
“Yeah.”
“Go well? Lecturer any good?”
Aaron was so very tempted to reply with, ‘as good as his hand on my cock’ but he didn’t think it was appropriate. He needed to set up the blackmail first.
So he said, “Fine.”
“Great.” Liam smiled, undeterred. God, it was annoying. He then leaned in closer, lowering his voice. “And you got all your funds sorted? Your welcome pack?”
Aaron took a lingering drag of his cigarette and darted his gaze to the couple interlocked in a heavy petting session. They couldn’t have heard what Liam had said, but it still rattled his nerves. Here was the reason not to tick that fucking box on the form. The reason he’d attempted to hide his background and start fresh. He didn’t want pity. Didn’t want handouts. People looking down on him and knowing all his secrets.
Especially when they didn’t know the half of them.
Protected person status at least shielded the worst of it.
Luckily, Mel came bundling out the doors and slammed his paper cup of tea in front of him. She smiled at Liam, as most polite people would do, and Aaron didn’t offer any indication that he even knew him. Because as soon as he said, ‘hey here’s Liam, he works in the department that funds care kids into university’, Aaron became a pity party.
At that point, Liam got the hint. Although Aaron suspected it was because he thought Aaron had scored on his first lecture.
“I’ll leave you to it.” Liam gathered up his bag as the doors whooshed open once more and, as fate would have it, Dr Kenneth Lyons stepped out. “If you need anything, Aaron, you know where I am, right?”
Aaron didn’t have a fucking Scooby where he was. Nor did he think he would ever need him. He’d signed his cash bursary. That was in the bank. He’d completed the forms for his three-six-five rent-free student accommodation. What else could he need him for? So he said nothing, exhaled slowly, letting the tendrils of smoke curl around him like armour.
Then Liam rushed up to Dr Lyons. “Dr Lyons, glad I ran into you. About that talk next week.” And off they both went, gone into the depths of whatever it was academics and support staff discuss away from the prying ears of students.
Aaron’s cigarette burned down to its last inch, but he kept it between his fingers, the heat grounding him as his gaze followed Dr Lyons’ retreating figure, watching the tension in his stride, the purposeful way he moved. There had been a flicker, a moment of recognition in Kenny’s eyes. A spark threatening to ignite the precarious balance Aaron had spent years constructing. But it was gone, swallowed up by Liam’s cheerful interruption.
“Who’s he?” Mel asked, ripping a sachet of sugar to pour into her coffee.
“Don’t sign up for the Ambassador scheme.”
Mel snorted. “What do you think of Dr Lyons? He’s kind of intense, huh?”
Aaron didn’t respond immediately. That word didn’t even cover it.
“Yeah.” He stubbed out his cigarette. “Something like that.”
Mel shrugged, oblivious to the storm brewing in Aaron’s chest. “Well, at least he keeps things interesting. Most lecturers just drone on.”
Interesting wasn’t the word Aaron would use either. Dangerous, maybe.
“Seminar time.” Mel tossed her empty cup into the bin. “You coming?”
Aaron hesitated. He could feel the weight of the moment stretching out in front of him. If Dr Lyons was in that seminar, there’d be no avoiding him. No escaping the unspoken tension rooting itself deep between them. But that was the whole point, wasn’t it? He wasn’t here to run. He was here to confront the man he’d spent years chasing. The man who held answers Aaron wasn’t even sure he wanted anymore.
So he flicked the cigarette butt into the metal bin, pushed onto his feet, and shoved his hands into his jacket pockets. “Let’s go.”
Whatever happened in that room, whatever came next, he was ready for it. At least, that’s what he told himself.
Because the truth was, if Dr Kenneth Lyons so much as looked at him the way he had outside, as if he’d seen something buried deep, the things Aaron kept locked away, he wasn’t sure what he’d do. Or how much of himself he could hold together.
But he’d find out soon enough.
And with that, Aaron stepped through the door.