Tag Archives: Linc

Luxury Seating

By Linc

The boutique hummed with quiet luxury, sunlight fading through tinted glass as Tyler strode in — 28, lacrosse jock, tank top clinging to a sweat-slick chest from a neighborhood jog, shorts slung low on his hips with casual swagger. His damp hair was tousled, his grin easy as his eyes roamed the showroom’s sleek steel displays.

“Weirdest store I’ve seen yet,” he muttered, half-laughing at the thought of furniture this bizarre.

Behind the counter, Liam — mid-thirties, athletic, dark hair swept back — watched him with an amused eye. A black button-up hugged his frame, sleeves rolled high to reveal corded forearms. “First timer?” he asked, voice smooth as silk, sizing Tyler up like a prize.

Tyler chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, just looking. Caught a glimpse through the window — thought it was a joke.”

“Not a joke,” Liam said, grin widening. “High-end build–aircraft-grade aluminum, wheels for mobility.”

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Iron Range – Part 03

By Linc

The farm was finally quieting down. Harvest was done, irrigation lines rolled up, and the air carried the crisp bite of change. Days still started early, but they didn’t run long. Not anymore. Jack found himself restless. Not from lack of sleep, not from too much work, but from too little to do. So when Ethan asked if he wanted a ride into town, Jack didn’t hesitate. He jumped at the chance, the belt by now as familiar as his boots.

Ethan gave him a look, glancing to Jack’s waist then chin tipping toward the main house in a silent question. Jack just shrugged, and hopped in the truck.  he ten-mile drive went by in a blink. They stopped at the bar around half past six after picking up provisions for the coming weeks. They had a beer each, enjoying the quiet hum of the place. An hour in, Ethan glanced toward the window, then back to Jack. “I’m heading home. You want to stay awhile?”

Jack considered it, weighing the quiet of the farm against the possibility of something—anything—different. “Yeah. I’ll stay a bit.”

Ethan gave a small nod. “Text when you’re ready.”

Continue reading Iron Range – Part 03

Iron Range – Part 02

By Linc

Note: This story originally appeared on LockedMEN. It is being shared here with permission.

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The heat of summer was well underway, and things had finally slowed enough that weekends started feeling like weekends again: shorter days, lighter work.

During the midday sun, when no one wanted to move more than they had to, Jack sat beside Ethan on the porch, drinking nothing stronger than sun-brewed sweet tea.

“Been meaning to ask,” Jack said, tipping his glass. “That barn — it belong to a neighbor? I know we don’t have livestock.”

“Still mine,” Ethan replied. “Nearest neighbor’s a mile off, easy.”

Jack squinted toward the fields. “How big is this place, anyway? I’ve been working it, but if someone asked me, I don’t think I could even guess.”

“Just over five hundred acres,” Ethan said, like it wasn’t much.

“So what’s it for then, if it’s not for livestock?”

“Storage, mostly. Used to be my dog’s spot during the day — back when I had one. He didn’t like it when I got too far off. I needed him somewhere out of the way. Safe from the equipment.”

Continue reading Iron Range – Part 02

Iron Range – Part 01

By Linc

Note: This story originally appeared on LockedMEN. It is being shared here with permission.

Jack stepped off the bus with a grunt, duffel bag slung over one shoulder. The Minnesota air hit him like a slap — crisp and clean, with the faint scent of pine and chimney smoke.

He adjusted the bag, its weight a dull throb in his shoulder — eight pounds of nostalgia in the form of books, old electronics, and private indulgences. His laptop alone — stuffed with saved articles, annotated stories, and folder names he’d never say out loud — might as well have had a neon sign on it: Escapist with a wi-fi addiction.

Now there was no signal. Just gravel underfoot and a mile-long driveway between him and the farmhouse.

The structure rose in the distance like a memory of another century — broad porch, smoke curling from a chimney, silence thick enough to drown in. Jack squinted up at the steel roof catching the last of the sunset. The place looked more fortress than farm. He could already feel his city softness recoiling. But he needed this.

Continue reading Iron Range – Part 01