Chapter Four: Shadows in Garki

Garki, Abuja-February 28, 2026, 11:47 p.m.

The flat smelled like stewed egusi left too long, mosquito coil smoke, and that faint metallic edge of fear that never really went away. The fan spun slow overhead, pushing warm air around but doing nothing about the harmattan dust sneaking through every crack. Chino lay on his back on the thin mattress, Wale curled into his side, head resting on his chest. Their breathing had fallen into the same rhythm hours ago slow, careful, the only thing they could still control.

Mama T had left after group dinner: jollof stretched thin to feed everyone, stories shared in whispers. The others Khalid from Kano with that scarred cheek from a “correction” session, Emeka from Port Harcourt still twitchy from the raid that took his laptop and what was left of his pride had gone quiet in their corners. House rules were strict: lights out by midnight, no noise, no visitors. But rules bend when bodies need reminding they’re still alive.

Wale’s hand was tracing lazy circles on Chino’s stomach, dipping lower under the waistband of borrowed shorts. Chino was already half hard had been since Wale brushed against him during cleanup in the tiny kitchen, hip to hip.

“You dey think too much,” Wale murmured, lips grazing Chino’s collarbone. “Feel me instead.”

Chino let out a breath, caught Wale’s wrist but didn’t push him away. “We no fit make noise. Khalid go wake, then everybody go know.”

“Let dem know. Dem dey here for the same reason dem dey fuck, dem dey love, dem dey hide.” Wale’s fingers wrapped around Chino’s cock, stroking slow, thumb smearing the bead of precum at the tip. “Or you wan pretend say we no need this?”

Chino groaned low, hips lifting into the touch. He rolled them so Wale was underneath, pinning his wrists above his head with one hand. Their mouths met deep, wet, tongues sliding like they were trying to remember every inch. Chino kissed down Wale’s throat, sucking hard over the pulse, leaving a fresh bruise. Wale arched up, thighs parting, cock straining against the thin fabric.

“Take am off,” Wale breathed.

Chino tugged the shorts down, freeing Wale’s length thick, curved, already slick. He spat into his palm, wrapped around it, stroking firm from base to head. Wale bit his lip to keep quiet. Chino leaned down, took him in his mouth slow swirl around the head, then deeper, throat relaxing as Wale’s hips jerked.

“Fuck… Chino…” Wale’s fingers tangled in his hair, guiding gently. The wet sounds were loud in the quiet room suck, lick, soft gag when Chino took him all the way.

Chino pulled off, breathless. “Turn over.”

Wale flipped, ass up, knees spread on the mattress. Chino knelt behind, hands spreading him, thumbs tracing the rim still soft from earlier. He spat twice, worked one finger in slow, curling then two, scissoring until Wale pushed back, whispering, “Now. Please.”

Chino lined up, thick head pressing in. No rush tonight just deep, rolling thrusts that made Wale’s back bow. Every slide hit that spot, pulling choked gasps. Chino leaned over, chest to back, one arm wrapping around to stroke Wale in time.

“Feel that?” Chino growled against his ear. “This na us. No law fit take am. No pastor, no police, no Tinubu ban. Just this.”

Wale nodded fast, hand reaching back to grip Chino’s thigh. “Harder. Make I feel you when morning come and we dey plan escape again.”

Chino snapped his hips deeper, faster. Skin slapped quiet but steady. Sweat slicked them. Wale came first body clenching, spilling hot over Chino’s fist, muffled cry into the pillow. The grip pulled Chino over burying deep, pulsing inside, groaning low into Wale’s neck.

They collapsed together, tangled, cum leaking slow between thighs. Chino stayed inside until he softened, then eased out, scooping some with fingers to feed to Wale. Wale sucked them clean, eyes locked possessive, tender.

“Love you,” Wale whispered. First time saying it out loud.

Chino kissed him slow. “Love you too. Even if na curse in this country.”

They wiped up with a rag from the bucket. Lay entwined again. Sleep hovered but never came.

At 2:14 a.m., the burner buzzed Chioma.

Bad news. Pastor Victor dey Abuja now. He post say ‘deliverance team’ dey move for lost sons. Video still trending new thread on Nairaland tag una location Garki. Police ask questions for Utako terminal. Mama T say pack. Scatter by dawn. New spot in Wuse smaller, but safe for now.

Chino showed Wale. Wale’s face went hard.

“My uncle message me yesterday say if him see me, him go hand me over to police for ‘settlement.’ Him wan collect bounty or something.”

Chino pulled him closer. “We no go let am.”

Dawn came gray and thick with dust. Mama T gathered everyone in the living room curtains drawn tight.

“Listen,” she said, voice low. “We no fit stay. Raid possible anytime. I get contact for asylum lawyer diaspora group dey help with Canada papers. Canada approve plenty Nigerians last year—65% for general claims in 2025, even higher for some. But LGBTQ claims… dem dey recognize sexual orientation as ground. But e hard need evidence, affidavits, proof of persecution. Video help, but dem go grill una: ‘Prove say you gay.’ Some win, some lose. UK worse dem call Nigeria ‘safe’ for men, queer or not. Rejection high.”

Khalid snorted. “Safe? Dem no see say SSMPA still bite? Military ban fresh Tinubu sign am December 2024. No homo for barracks. Extortion up since then. Police raid parties, collect bribe, release. But if dem wan make example…”

Mama T nodded. “True. But asylum no easy. Canada reject over 1,500 Nigerians already this year. Need strong case no criminal record, no lie. And wait time long years sometimes.”

Emeka rubbed his scarred wrists. “I try Canada last year. Dem say my story ‘not credible.’ Say why I no report police? As if police go help.”

Chino looked at Wale. “We fit try?”

Wale squeezed his hand. “We fit die here slow. Or fly. Try.”

Mama T passed the burner. “Signal group for lawyer. Send evidence video screenshots, messages from family, Adanna’s last text. I go help write statement. But first, move.”

They packed in silence everything into two small bags. As they slipped out the back door into the alley, sun rising orange through the haze, Chino felt Wale’s hand in his sticky with last night’s remnants, defiant.

Abuja sprawled around them: mosques calling prayer, churches ringing bells, traffic snarling. A city of power that still crushed the powerless. Pastor Victor’s “team” somewhere close. Police maybe watching.

Hope: asylum lottery Canada’s 65% general rate, LGBTQ grounds recognized, some wins despite rejections. A lawyer waiting. Comrades in the network.

Devastation: UK deeming Nigeria “safe,” high rejections, endless waits, families hunting, pastors preaching fire, SSMPA still law, military ban fresh signal of hate.

Ambiguous: New safe house in Wuse smaller, riskier? Papers approved or denied? Raid tonight or next week? Fly out or stay underground forever?

They walked single file, hoods up, hands brushing when no one watched.

Two men in a city of millions.

Still hoping. Still hunted