Raider wasn’t sure how the hell it happened, but he was lost. In his fear to not be found by any stray killer shifter or sorcerer, he ended up losing all sense of landmarks. He was still messed up, confused, and the time away did little to bring clarity to the feelings of before.
He wanted to kiss Forest. More than kiss. He wanted to strip and grind up against him until the crazy heat pounding inside stopped. He didn’t even know Forest. He didn’t even like Forest like that. Forest was a leopard shifter and scared the life out of him.
Raider swallowed hard. He would have kissed him if Forest so much as leaned over. He never had a sex scent do that to him before.
Actually, he never faced so many sex scents before. There was the occasional scent here and there but it was usually watered down in a breeze or lost in a crowd. The few times it was a shifter scent, the one in question quickly dismissed himself and it wasn’t really worth remembering.
The more he thought of it, the more Raider realized how inexperience he was when it came to this problem. It was kind of weird considering all the shifters in his life. Cat shifters weren’t the only ones to experience a type of heat. Most shifters’ heat just didn’t reach the same high intensity or frequency as the feline types. He never dealt with sex scents like these.
There was no escaping whatever the fuck the dragon shifter did to his not so quiet sorcerer mate. Doe had no interest in being subtle. No, his dragon’s kink increased depending on how many people were aware he was claiming his mate at the time. In theory, the idea of having someone fuck their boyfriend in front of him sounded messed up. In practice… well. It might be really hot.
Raider covered his face with his hands, his fingertips dark from his raccoon pattern. He didn’t like Wylie. Or Dorian. Or Forest. Fuck, what the hell was happening to him?
He groaned and stopped in front of another unfamiliar door. At least he was on the same floor. He didn’t end up in the basement with the dragon teacher. There would be no saving him if his raccoon started to fixate on hidden treasure on top of this new weirdness.
Why was his raccoon so weird? Why couldn’t it just be normal and quiet and not mess up his entire fucking life? If it was normal, Fox wouldn’t hate him over everything. If it would calm down for five seconds, maybe he could figure out how to make friends in the pack so no one would try to eat him. But it couldn’t. The stupid beast was too scared to do anything but freak out and run.
The door handle was locked and Raider sighed in defeat. There was no place to hide. He desperately needed to find the lounge and his room but he wasn’t sure he could do it without running into the shifters or sorcerers he was doing everything to avoid.
Again, he thought about running. Every time he tried with Fox, his friend found reasons to pull away even more. He couldn’t figure out how he was fucking it up. Fox wasn’t the type to hold a grudge. He was fucking up something and he wasn’t sure how much longer he could stay in this horrible Academy.
Raider thought he recognized the next hallway. There was something about the arrangement of paintings on the otherwise white walls that looked familiar. The Academy wasn’t cold and corporate even though it was easy to get lost in. The art was all different everywhere he went. Not that he had the ability to appreciate any of it. Not with the strange scents and warnings of magic all over the place. His steps slowed and he dared to stop and look at a painting of a young lady dressed in green. A chill breezed through the air right before he heard a door click down the hall.
Raider wrapped his arms around him to fend off the sudden cold. He really needed to get a jacket or something. He looked down the hall and stilled when he saw Leo standing in the doorway, highlighted by the setting sun outside. Leo didn’t seem to care about the cold, his muscles hard against his thin, long sleeve shirt. His hair was longer, a dark mess with his half shift. His lion ears did little to keep him from looking intimidating as he stepped in and let the door shut behind him. Raider’s eyes slipped down involuntarily and focused on how thick the muscles of Leo’s thighs were in his jeans.
The scent of cigarette smoke filtered in. Raider glanced back up and swallowed hard when he met Leo’s stare. He held his breath. Leo’s grin was dangerous as he took slow, measured steps to where Raider was standing. Soon all Raider could smell and see was the lion shifter. Leo’s gold eyes were full of heat as he came up and blatantly looked him over.
Raider wasn’t sure why he couldn’t move. His heart was slamming in his chest but his feet were being dumb and refused to run. Leo ignored all levels of personal space, his eyes burning as he stepped forward and backed Raider against the wall.
“Hey,” Leo rumbled, his eyes fixed on his downturned face.
“H-Hi,” Raider managed to get out. His cheeks flushed as he looked anywhere but at Leo. It was impossible to ignore him. He was inches away, his scent surrounding him, a wall of muscle and roaring heat. Raider’s blood pounded in his ears. He closed his eyes as he felt his dick swell and body tense. He wasn’t that attracted to Leo, he was pretty sure, but he was getting hard no matter how much he shook.
“I could smell you all the way outside.” Leo leaned closer and inhaled deeply. “And now. How much you want it.”
Raider breathed out unsteadily. Leo’s fingers traced lightly down his cheek to his throat, and he did his best not to tremble. “I… uh…”
Leo’s words were soft, slow as he brushed his thumb across one of Raider’s thorned vine tattoos. “I know this scent. I could do anything to you and you’ll just beg for more, won’t you?”
Raider was unbalanced by the comment, confused how a part of him responded when it didn’t even make sense. He tried to speak but his voice definitely wasn’t working. His throat was too tight and he just couldn’t seem to put two words together as long as Leo was standing so close. It was hard to notice anything else but Leo’s scent, his presence, the heat coming off his flesh and the dark purr of his voice.
Leo’s knuckles slowly stroked down his cheek and jaw. It was electric. Raider fought a whimper and his sight dimmed for a moment. Leo’s mouth brushed his hair and the edge of his ear. The heat from his breath left him dazed.
“I’m not going to hurt you.” Leo pulled Raider’s hand into his and led it to his chest. “I know what kind of shifter you are and I’d never hurt a sexy thing like you.”
Raider dared to peek up, only to quickly look away when Leo’s sharp, gold eyes caught his for a frozen moment. Leo pushed Raider’s palm against his chest and held him there. Raider stared at his hand pinned against Leo’s shirt. Beneath his fingers he could feel his heartbeat. Steady. Strong.
“You’re loyal, right, Valdez? You know your alpha.” Leo hissed as he slowly pushed Raider’s hand down the front of his body. “You want to make your alpha happy, right?”
Raider’s eyes closed and his breath came out in a rough exhale as he felt the raw strength in Leo’s rippling abs beneath the fabric of his shirt. Leo led him lower and Raider’s fingertips caught on his waistband, found the roughness of his jeans and the cool, smooth metal button of his zipper.
“You want to help me out?” Leo’s gaze slid down his heaving chest. A satisfied growl escaped him when he saw Raider’s jeans were tented. “I can protect you like you need, Valdez.”
Raider glanced up through his lashes. Leo intense glare was too much to meet for long. He wet dry lips. “What… what do you mean?”
“You’re scared.” Leo chuckled when Raider immediately denied it. “We can all smell it, Valdez. It’s okay. Some guys, they’re just not strong. They’re not fighters. Not everyone is an alpha.” He leaned down until their faces were nearly level. “It’s okay, hottie.”
Raider gasped and held himself still as Leo caged him back. The wall was cool and unyielding behind him and Leo’s muscular, heat drenched form blocked him from all sides when he raised his arms. Raider stared blankly at the floor, his lower lip caught between his teeth as Leo scented boldly up his neck.
“Fuck, you smell so hot for it.” A purr rumbled in his chest and Leo pressed forward to brush lips to Raider’s gasping mouth. “I can be your alpha. Take care of you. You won’t ever have to be afraid around me.” Leo’s lips pressed again, more solidly this time. His thumb came up to tug Raider by the chin and bring him closer. “You want that, Valdez. I can smell it on you. You want a pack and a pack leader to protect you.”
Did he want that? Raider’s head was swimming. His knees were weak and his dick throbbed for release. Did he? Hadn’t he wanted to get as far away from this dangerous lion shifter as possible? Hadn’t he wanted to jump that horrible magic fence and never see another flesh eater or magic user again?
Leo’s heavy palm found his shoulder. His fingers were strong as he moved down and rubbed Raider’s chest with sure, confident strokes. Raider’s eyes closed and the tension drained from him. He leaned his weight against the wall to keep from falling.
“That’s it, you sexy prey bitch.” Leo breathed in again, his nostrils flared as Raider submitted to his touch. “I’ll be gentle with you. Give you everything you need. Show me what you like and I’ll take care of you.” His body shifted forward. Raider breath hitched when he felt Leo’s erection, hard and long, press against his hip.
Raider had no idea what he was doing. He couldn’t figure out just why he was so hard for this or why he wasn’t telling Leo to stop. He could barely understand this strange deal Leo was offering. Protect him? Leo was the type of shifter he needed to be protected from. Right? It was hard to think with his alpha lion scent so strong in the air. Leo’s hand kept massaging the muscles of his shoulders and chest, each touch dizzying and claiming.
The door down the hall pushed open. Forest brushed snowflakes from his hair as he stepped inside, only to stop cold when he looked their way. “Leo, back the fuck off, man.”
Raider’s eyes cracked open. His head was heavy on the wall and he looked up in confusion. Leo was staring down at him, so much a predator as he drank in his dark eyes and wet lips in ownership. Raider felt a strange thrill of power to have someone like Leo look at him that way.
“Do you want me to stop?” Leo smirked when he didn’t answer. He teased fingertips over the elaborate mandala tattoo on Raider’s throat. “That’s what I thought. Your alpha knows what you want.”
“Leo, I will call the fucking masters. Leave him the fuck alone!”
Leo growled at the threat. His expression sharpened and fangs elongated when Forest stomped up and slammed his hand on the wall beside Raider. Raider knew Forest wasn’t crazy enough to actually challenge Leo. Just the flexing of the lion shifter’s muscles reinforced how large and strong he was.
“Mind your own fucking business, VanWilder,” Leo snarled warningly.
Forest’s glare increased. His claws came out and triangular ears flattened to the side of his head. “You know the line you’re crossing.”
Leo scoffed. “He likes it. Wants it. If you don’t like it, then fuck off.”
“He’s a fucking sub! You know they can’t differentiate…” Forest was cut off when Leo snarled and grabbed him by the back of the neck.
Raider watched from outside himself, unable to move. A part of him was terrified he was going to see Forest torn to pieces. But Leo didn’t take a swing at him or even bare his fangs. He shoved Forest up against Raider and pushed his face right into his armpit.
“Scent him, dumbass,” Leo growled. “Tell me he’s not fucking begging for this.”
Forest’s angry hiss transformed into a low moan. Raider shuddered at the hungry sound. Leo released Forest and when the leopard shifter looked up, his pupils were blown wide, the yellow of his eyes nearly lost in a haze of lust.
“Fuck… Holy fuck, that scent,” Forest whispered unsteadily and gripped the wall for balance.
“Scent?” Raider stared in confusion. It only got worse when Forest’s sex scent flared and hit him fully to combine with Leo’s. A wave of heat flooded him. Raider’s sight dimmed for a moment, fuzzing out the view of Forest looking him up and down with interest. He whimpered and closed his eyes when Forest ducked down and began to press a line of hungry kisses to Raider’s throat and collarbone.
Leo grinned, his teeth sharp. “Now we’re in agreement.” Another purr rumbled through his chest and he grabbed Raider by the jaw and turned his face toward him. His grip was surprisingly gentle when he leaned down and claimed him in a kiss. Raider moaned, his lips parting to the slide of Leo’s tongue. “Good… Be good for us, sexy.” Leo threaded fingers through Raider’s dark hair, massaging his scalp as he tilted his head to meet his kisses. “Show us what you like.”
Leo’s words were a buzz in the back of his mind, his focus lost in the hot, wet touch of lips moving over his skin, his mouth, hands gripping. Raider gasped when Leo’s mouth left him and Forest roughly pushed his shirt up. Cold air and then roaring heat hit him in waves as Forest pressed against him and sealed his mouth to the center of his chest.
“Watch it,” Leo said with a displeased grumble. He shoved Forest’s shoulder out of the way and claimed Raider’s lips again, his tongue stroking into his mouth. Forest was undeterred. His kissed a wandering path with wet slides of his tongue over Raider’s toned chest. He found his nipple beneath the tattoo of roses and thorns and teased the beaded nub with hot licks.
Leo’s large hand gripped Raider’s neck and moved down the front of his throat. It was possessive yet yielding as he soothed with each touch and consumed every soft cry Raider released. Raider felt half devoured. Leo’s tongue explored every plane of his mouth. His teeth nipped at his lips, sinking in and opening him up. He was lost in the scent, the heat, the pulse of the two hard bodies touching, tasting and pulling at him until he was nothing more than the wild sensations and desperate throb of need.
“Clothes, Valdez. You’re wearing too much.” Leo’s hand pushed up under Raider’s shirt when it tried to fall back down.
“Way too much,” Forest agreed hazily. He gripped the t shirt and tugged. The material shredded around his claws and Leo helped pull the remains off of Raider’s torso. Forest’s gaze lit on his face and lingered on Raider’s kiss swollen lips. He looked down, taking in his bare, caramel toned chest covered in a black ink swirl of roses and thorned vines. His hand pressed to Raider’s six-pack abs and fingers spread wide to slide up to his chest.
Raider’s gaze followed, drifting down his bare torso to Forest’s compact, toned frame tight with restrained need. He couldn’t help but wonder what he looked like under his shirt, what his bare flesh would feel like against his.
“Kiss him,” Leo said in Raider’s ear. The quiet order sent a fresh wave of desire through him. He didn’t want to think about why it got him so hard, why he knew he was going to obey. Raider’s breath came out in fast pants as he tentatively leaned forward and reached for Forest’s dark lips. Forest surged forward, pushed him hard against the wall and kissed him fiercely.
Raider exhaled heavily through his nose, his mouth yielding to Forest’s demanding kiss. His lips moved over Raider’s flesh hungrily, wetting his lips, then his chin and throat. Raider yelped softly when teeth sank into his neck for a moment. The pain went straight to his cock. His jeans were unbearably tight, and only grew more so when Leo’s hand gripped down his side and sought first his hip and then his ass. He squeezed the firm flesh and pulled Raider closer so he could claim his mouth again.
“W-What?” Raider mumbled as a terrible chill his hit bare flesh and grew colder. His lashes fluttered open and he immediately squeezed his eyes shut as impossibly bright light assaulted his senses.
“Fucker. Motherfucker!” Leo pulled away with an outraged snarl. The noise he was making could only be described as murderous.
Raider fought to see what he could through his fingers but the light was too intense. Forest was cursing softly but didn’t sound like he was about to kill them all like Leo was. Which could only mean the alpha was under attack. If Leo fell, he would surely be killed next.
“My office. The three of you. Now.”
It took Raider a moment to recognize Michael with anger distorting his voice. Raider abruptly stopped struggling and his face heated up. He didn’t want to face the master sorcerer like this. Not after he just caught him…
“Oh fuck.” Raider covered his face with his hands and fell back against the wall. Reality started to sink in as the heat faded from the air. “Oh my fuck.”
“Whiteheart!” Leo’s roar shook the wall. Raider gasped and snapped his eyes open to find torrents of icy water dripping from Leo’s furious form.
“Damn it, Leo, keep it the fuck together,” Forest muttered. He was in a similar drenched state while crouched on the floor. “Remember where you are.”
Leo was too enraged. His features twisted as his halfshift tried to turn full lion with the loss of his control. “He’s mine to claim. Mine!”
Michael didn’t say a word as Leo’s voice echoed down the hall. Raider couldn’t help but look, wondering if the sorcerer was frightened. He found Michael standing twenty feet away, his eye blazing power as he calmly stared Leo down.
“You have no right!”
“Shit.” Forest’s wet sneakers slipped across the floor as he tried to get away when Michael took one silent, deliberate step toward the three of them. Leo’s roars were more distorted and lion-like by the second but Raider knew it wasn’t him Forest was running from. No, it was Michael. The air around him was unearthly still, as if time decided to stop in show of the sorcerer’s ability.
Michael tilted his head down, his eyes full of challenge. “Leonard, must I remind you of just what you are allowed to own in this Academy?” Leo’s ears folded back at the sound of his voice. Power filled Michael’s every being. The air around them began to change and grow hotter as his magic snapped in aggression.
“You can’t interfere in my claim. It’s my right!” Leo whirled as he shouted.
Raider froze as Leo’s bulking form and razor sharp teeth consumed his vision. This was when he died, he realized fleetingly. He lost his fucking mind, got involved in some alpha bullshit, and his raccoon was absolutely right in being terrified because Leo was going to kill him.
Raider tensed, his eyes squeezed shut in preparation for the killing blow. Only to yelp when Leo’s large palm suddenly cupped his flagging erection through his jeans and held tight.
“You’re mine, Valdez. You know you’re mine.” Leo inhaled heavily and scented down Raider’s form. He deliberately used his mass to block anyone from getting to Raider.
Raider held impossibly still even as he felt his body respond. His cock hardened and muscles loosened as his raccoon tried to take over and give in to Leo. His mind was racing just as fast as his heart. He didn’t know if it was because Leo seemed more beast than man at the moment, or maybe because he was dripping wet and far from comfortable, but Raider wasn’t feeling anything like he had a minute ago. There was no drugged haze from the intense scent surrounding him. He was alert, aware, and certain Leo was seconds from getting his ass beat if he didn’t move.
Raider kept his eyes trained on the floor and tried to keep his breath even. For some reason, the idea of Michael fighting Leo was absolutely exhilarating.
“Leo, stop letting your lion’s dick take over your fucking mind!” Forest shouted from a safe distance away.
Leo looked his way with a snarl, only to turn fully and release Raider when Michael appeared behind him. The sorcerer didn’t say anything or lift his hands in attack. He didn’t have to. Normally easy going and smiling, Michael looked larger and more muscular than before. He was beyond intimidating as he towered over Leo, their eyes locked in a death match. No words were required for an alpha shifter to understand. Leo might be brawn and fighter spirit but he was no equal to the raw power Michael raised up just by standing there.
Raider saw it in Leo’s body language before he backed down. His tail gave an angry twitch and Leo’s shoulders flexed an instant before he snarled and stepped away.
“Fuck!” Leo screamed as he punched the wall. His roar echoed down the hall full of rage and defeat. Raider barely heard it, caught when he found himself suddenly face to face with Michael.
Michael was barely recognizable. There was an animalistic fierceness to his features which hadn’t been there previously. His power was magnetic as it snapped unseen around him in a hot fire. “Office. Now.” His blue eyes blazed as Michael started down the hall. He stopped feet away to make sure he was followed.
Raider didn’t know he was holding his breath until Michael turned away. Air rushed back into his lungs with a gasp. Shame and want hit him in equal proportions as the world again crashed down into startling focus.
What was wrong with him? Why was he like this?
Raider forced his shaking legs to move when Forest stepped up to where Michael was waiting. He didn’t want to be stuck alone in the hallway with Leo. Fuck, Michael had seen him… Raider couldn’t put words to what he did with Leo and Forest. His gaze strayed towards Michael’s shoes, so unable was he to face him.
He was disgusted, right? Or was he challenging Leo because…?
No, that was fucking crazy. Michael was just doing what needed to be done to get a sex crazed alpha to back the fuck down. The guy was a human using magic to act like a shifter to manipulate the situation.
Raider took a steadying breath. That was how shifters were killed by sorcerers. They were tricked, hunted, and their own strength used against them. He knew that. He fucking knew.
Sorcerer. Whiteheart was a sorcerer and far more dangerous than the most aggressive alpha at the Academy.
Vesper was doing his best not to look at the young man trembling in front of his door. He hung his cloak up and peered into his closet silently. He wished he hadn’t already taken his shirt off, wished he hadn’t unlocked the door. His skin was prickling with every breath Lilo took. His scent of desire was strong even from across the room. It was bad timing for this—fuck, having anyone in his room was never a good thing since Heiden. More so after talking to Devlan earlier that evening.
Damn it, he was horny. Impossibly horny. Feeding Devlan did something to him he didn’t expect. Vesper didn’t know if it was because he held back so much and letting out all this energy was setting him off, or it was because whatever was growing in him was getting stronger. It felt like it was getting stronger. Ever since learning of the prophecy, he couldn’t stop thinking of the wicked, monstrous thing possibly consuming his soul even now. It seemed the way of the shining face god to consume a host from the inside out until he was left insane and deadly powerful.
Vesper glared at his clothing and quickly pulled a robe free. He didn’t want to think of that. He didn’t want to think of how he meant every word when staring into Devlan’s dazed, hungry eyes.
“You understand me, yes master?”
Vesper bit back a sigh and glanced to the side where Lilo edged his way. “Yes. Now put this on.” This was difficult enough without the damn demon being naked in his room. He was slim, toned, with a rose tint to his skin far too interesting to his senses at the moment.
Lilo hesitated before stepping over, his feet barely making any noise as he walked. “It’s very nice,” Lilo said when Vesper placed the spidersilk robe in his grasp. The material was smooth like cool water and flowed over his skin. Lilo shivered from the touch on his arms as he held it.
“If you like it, I can have something made for you. The two of you,” Vesper said tightly. “I’m sorry. I should have thought of it earlier. I’ve been distracted.” Thinking of his death. Thinking of preventing Evan’s death. Wondering if he would truly kill Devlan if he so much as touched Evan again.
He would. He would kill him in a heartbeat.
He was losing his mind.
“You seem distressed,” Lilo whispered, his eyes following the way Vesper’s hands kept opening and clenching into fists. “Are you unwell?”
Vesper didn’t have an answer he felt comfortable speaking. He felt like he was going to snap at any moment and this foolish demon wouldn’t go away and give him the solitude he desperately needed. It was driving him mad.
A hand, cool and small, touched his arm and Vesper whirled and jerked away. “Don’t,” he gasped as adrenaline shot through him. He hadn’t imagined it. Lilo’s hand was still reaching toward him, frozen in midair as he stared up at him in confusion.
“Did I harm…?”
Vesper shook his head and his vision dimmed at the edges. Fuck, he touched him. He fucking touched him. “You should go. I shouldn’t have—you need to leave,” he bit out. Heiden would know. Would know and kill him. One light touch and he doomed this demon who was… “Are you crying?” Vesper blinked rapidly, pulled from his frantic thoughts by the tears in Lilo’s bright blue eyes. “Why are you…?”
Lilo’s tears spilled free, twin streaks wetting his cheeks moments before he ducked his head and sobbed into the robe he was holding. Vesper could only watch, at a loss of what to do. He had no idea what to do and could not understand the way his gut twisted in demand he do something to stop this confusing display.
“Can I… Can I get you something?” Vesper’s hand came up to comb agitatedly through his hair. He resisted the urge to actually reach out and touch Lilo’s arm, although it seemed like it might be the right thing to do in such a situation. Maybe rub his back? It was so long since he was allowed to touch another, he truly couldn’t say.
His bedroom door slammed open. The gray skinned demon charged in, his red eyes full of rage when he caught site of his brother crying.
“Lilo?” Draven stalked across the room, his glare fixed challengingly on Vesper. “What did he do to you?”
To the best of Vesper’s knowledge, he didn’t do a damn thing and found the presumption insulting. Lilo gave a greater sob when his brother touched his shoulder. He turned and buried his face against his neck.
“Lilo, what’s wrong?”
“I’m hungry,” Lilo mumbled. His forehead rested against Draven’s cheek. “So hungry.”
“Let me get you food,” Vesper said with an exasperated growl. “If you actually bother to eat it.”
“Your food is too dead to consume.” Draven’s voice was gruff as he glanced Vesper’s way, then turned to his brother. He gently wiped Lilo’s cheek with his thumb and sighed at the dazed look on his face. “He needs something living to sustain him. Dead things cannot feed us.”
“And you waited this long to tell someone?” Vesper stopped himself, too loud and full of frustration. He took a deep breath. “I thought you fed each other. You’re both demons; can’t you feed each other?”
Lilo sniffled and pressed his lips to his brother’s neck. Draven closed his eyes a moment and sank into the feeling despite his best efforts. “You hate me,” Lilo whispered. “You’re always so mean.”
Draven ignored the cruel and somewhat true words. “I’m too weak to feed him. The same of him for me. If we were stronger it might be different, but we haven’t eaten properly in months.”
“Feed me,” Lilo murmured. He sighed as he rubbed his face against his brother’s jaw. “You’re always stronger.”
“You’re hysterical, idiot.” Draven’s hands flew down to stop Lilo’s hips from rocking against him.
Vesper growled to himself as the implications of what Draven said. They were there for days, starving, and hadn’t told a damn soul.
What, was he truly expecting two slaves to sit down and have a conversation with him about their welfare and the best ways to keep them healthy and happy? Was that a conversation he could ever hope to have with Heiden? Damn, he left them in rags, starving, while well aware they were terrified of him, and he hadn’t given a thought to any of it.
Vesper narrowed his eyes and turned. He stalked to a heavy cabinet of polished wood which took up a large part of his wall. Rummaging through, he returned with a dagger. Draven snarled on seeing it and whirled so he was between him and Lilo.
“He’s only hungry. You don’t need to kill him!”
“How is it we’re speaking the same language but you can’t understand simple things?” Vesper shot back. The demon’s fear was more frustrating because a part of him knew he was to blame. He could have talked to them, could have made himself approachable. Now he was left trying to repair something he already broke in his disregard.
Holding the dagger up, Vesper quickly sliced it down his palm. He hissed when the blade bit his flesh. Crimson bloomed and quickly dripped down his fingers. Vesper turned his hand so his blood pooled in his palm.
“Here.” He stepped forward with hand outstretched.
Draven stared at the offering warily, his nostrils flared to pick up the scent. “Wait,” he growled when Lilo tried to get around him. “It’s not… It’s not safe.”
Vesper glared. “Of course it’s safe. What, you think I’m made of poison? It’s just blood. I know your type get life force from it.”
Draven didn’t answer. His senses were open as he continued to stare. There was too much power in Vesper’s blood. It glowed brighter than any he’d seen before. It felt dangerous, like a trap. “I don’t…” He gasped when Lilo hip checked him sideways, his brother’s eyes dazed with hunger. “Lilo, don’t!”
Lilo didn’t seem to hear. His bare feet led him quickly to Vesper’s waiting form. Vesper hesitated when Lilo reached for him, going so far as to take a step back.
“Just… you don’t want to touch me.” Vesper thought a moment, then held his hand up. “Let it drip down.” Lilo craned his head back, mouth open to catch the blood.
“No,” Draven surged forward and pulled him back. Lilo snarled in frustration in his hold. “No. We will go hungry.”
“Draven!” Lilo finally had a proper meal in sight and let his claws grow. He slashed behind him. Draven hissed when talons raked his side and caught at his arm. His own strength was compromised from hunger, not that he would dare admit it to his brother.
Lilo broke free and didn’t look back. He crossed the few steps and grabbed Vesper’s arm and pulled it to his level. Vesper tried to protest, but fell silent the moment Lilo’s mouth closed over the wound on his palm. Heat flooded him in a wave and Vesper grabbed at a bureau behind him to keep from swaying.
Vesper watched, feeling almost as hungry as the demon desperately sucking at his blood. Lilo held him roughly, his fangs nipping to force more blood free which his tongue then lapped in long strokes to drink down. It took everything Vesper had not to grab him, not to switch their positions and take what he wanted from Lilo’s slim body. It would be easy enough—the collar on the demon’s neck made things very easy—and the blood scent in the air was making the idea seem all the more better.
Lilo sighed into his palm and his movements began to slow. With dazed blue eyes, he glanced up at Vesper and leaned against him. His tongue continued to tease slow licks over his hand broken only by content, sated sighs.
Vesper tugged at his hand and Lilo readily followed. He pulled him until their lips were inches apart and he could smell the unique scent of his skin. “Better?”
Lilo’s breath stuttered, his gaze caught in Vesper’s glowing stare. Blood was wet on his lips and Vesper’s eye were drawn down and then to the side where Draven had fallen. He was rigid in anxiety, red eyes wide as he stared up at his brother.
Draven slowly got to his feet, wary as he looked from Lilo to Vesper. Vesper held still when he came up cautiously to speak into his brother’s pointed ear. “Are you okay? Lilo? Did he…?”
Lilo’s moments were hard to track. One moment he was staring at Vesper, the next his eyes flashed with mischief into Draven’s. Draven snarled and stumbled back, but wasn’t fast enough to avoid Lilo’s blood coated tongue as it dove into his mouth.
“Ass… Stupid ass…” Draven swayed forward, crouched over as he tried to wipe the blood away. Heat ran through him like a drug and his movements turned sluggish. He clawed weakly at his neck and left red lines on his gray flesh. “Divine,” he whispered. “Vesper prince tastes divine.”
Lilo went back to licking Vesper’s cut, his breath ragged with each touch of tongue. Vesper was trying to ignore the thoughts in his head, the pulse burning through his body. Lilo was such a slight, slender thing. Both of them. Powerless with the collars. Beings he should have wanted to protect but at the moment could only see so easily defiled.
“You shouldn’t have touched me.” Vesper ducked his head so he could breathe in Lilo’s scent. “You’ve made your situation worse.” He made everything worse with his blood feeling so hot in his veins.
His breath hitched when Lilo’s teeth teased the flesh of his palm. It was a controlled bite, gentle. When he looked down, Lilo was peering up through purple lashes. His eyes had turned dark, pupils wide. His tongue was hot as he deliberately licked up his hand.
“No one touches you,” Lilo kissed into his skin. It was more an observation than a question, and Vesper nodded in reply. He was overly aware of Lilo’s breath, the heat from his naked body and the scent of his flesh. He closed his eyes when Lilo step forward and pressed up against him, sharp angles and hard cock grinding against his body. Vesper realized Lilo had a tail when it unwound from the demon’s thigh and wrapped around his waist to hold him tighter. Lilo’s mouth grew more ferocious. He no longer sought blood as he kissed and sucked up Vesper’s arm, nipping at his bicep, licking at his shoulder and kissed along his collarbone. Vesper breathed deep as Lilo moved down to his chest, his hands exploring where his mouth soon followed.
Inside, Vesper was at war with himself. This would get the demons killed, he knew as much. But then, they were dead anyways. Anyone connected to him was dead because of Heiden. Like Evan. Vesper exhaled slowly. The feelings he associated with Evan rose up in him, overwhelming and hungry. He couldn’t even touch him. He found someone who made him feel more than just a trapped victim and he couldn’t even touch his hand, kiss his lips.
Lilo’s hands soothed down his chest, fingers clutching as he explored Vesper’s muscular stomach. His mouth was wet as he kissed up his throat, then his chin, falling too short of his target.
“A little,” Vesper whispered as he tilted his head down and Lilo’s lips found his. “Just a little.”
Lilo’s claws pricked at his hips and he gasped from the sensation. Lilo’s eyes were full of want when Vesper gazed down into them. He couldn’t count how many times he’d seen that expression in so many sets of eyes fixed on him. He’d seen it less than an hour ago in Devlan’s eyes and wondered just what it would feel like to damn him as well with just one touch.
If he were a selfish man, an insane man, it would be easy to damn anyone to Heiden’s wrath. Fucking Devlan to do it would be appealing in its own right. Having Devlan on his knees, begging him forgiveness for daring to so much as touch his Evanel…
“Lilo.” Draven senses were recovered enough for him to return. He wrapped his arms around his brother’s shoulders and tried to pull him back, but his movements lacked coordination or focus. “You’re not like this.”
Lilo’s smile was sated and eyelids heavy as he turned to his brother and grabbed one of the arms around his neck. “He tastes good. You taste good, Draven.”
“You’re not… You’re not yourself,” Draven mumbled as Lilo kissed him clumsily, their lips sliding together, fangs pinching for a moment.
“I am. You’re the one who keeps saying I’m someone else.” Lilo kissed him deeper, his tongue stroking into his mouth. “I’m me, not you.”
Vesper gaze slid down, following the way Lilo’s claws tore into Draven’s thin shift and shredded the material. Draven pulled from the kiss, his dazed eyes sparking with anger when his brother tried to tear the rest of his clothing off. “Lilo, you’re not thinking…” Draven cut off with a groan when Vesper stepped forward and pressed his bloody palm to his mouth.
“You’re hungry, yes?” Vesper couldn’t stop himself, the room growing hotter with every hungry lick to his skin. With his free hand he gently peeled the ragged fabric off of Draven’s body and tossed it to the ground. The twins were nearly identical except for the blue gray tint to Draven flesh, his nipples and flushed dick a deeper shade of the same. He was similar in Lilo in stature but Draven’s muscles were more defined, his cock thicker and dripping clear fluid.
Draven whimpered against Vesper’s palm. He tried to pull away but instead his lips kept sliding into the red fluid. “Your power… you would control us,” he panted out.
“With blood?” Vesper raised an eyebrow and smeared the thinning scarlet down Draven’s chin and then his throat. “Are you controlled by your food?”
Draven shook his head weakly. “No. But you make everyone prey.” He moaned when Lilo slipped between them and began to clean the blood from his skin with sultry licks of his tongue.
Draven grasped at his brother’s silky locks, his fingers slipping until he got a proper hold. Lilo grinned wickedly as his head was wrenched back and Draven surged forward and sucked and nipped at his throat and down his chest. Vesper couldn’t look away, not with how Lilo was arching and gasping for more while his brother seemed determined to give him everything he wanted in punishment. They were beautiful together, raw, confident but still learning of what the other liked.
His life could have been like this. A pile of beautiful bodies twined and sweaty, moaning in need and soft sighs every night in his bed chambers. He could have woken to hands, lips, and an end to the insatiable hunger which clawed inside. It should have been like this. Such bodies were meant to touch, meant to hold, and despair at every parting.
Lilo snickered softly, his face an expression of bliss as he turned in his brother’s hold. Draven was quick to direct his kisses to his nape and shoulders, trying to cover Lilo in as much of his scent as possible. Lilo twined his narrow arms around Vesper’s neck and pulled him closer. Vesper closed his eyes and breathed deep as Lilo’s mouth returned to licking his chest, then to teasing his nipple. Tears prickled at his eyes a moment and Vesper growled them away.
Did Heiden think to keep him alone would somehow make his monstrous touch bearable? Or was it just to hurt him in all ways? It felt a thawing of his heart, a cracking of joints and muscle when Vesper dared to raise his hand and touch down Lilo’s side. Lilo panted against his chest, rocked forward and ground their erections together. Vesper growled for a different reason, his hand gripping Lilo’s hip and pulling him up harder against him.
When Vesper’s eyes blinked open, he found Draven staring at him, his red gaze studying his face from behind his brother’s slim shoulder. He was more lucid than Lilo, but still susceptible. Vesper could pull him if he wanted to. He could easily see the beautiful, gray skinned demon moaning in want, ready to do anything he asked. Vesper licked his lips, his breath freezing when Lilo’s teeth nipped at his throat and tongue soothed a hot path down.
He wanted to. Goddess, he really did.
They were dead the moment Heiden chose the two for him. Why should their last days be of fear and loneliness? Why should his? Why shouldn’t they all just enjoy these moments now, together, entwined and sated?
Vesper cupped Lilo’s cheek and tilted him up to meet his gaze. “The bed,” he ordered softly and let his power flow into the words. “I want to see you fuck your brother.”
Lilo’s eyes glowed a moment, a strange inner light matching the demand of Vesper’s call. Lilo suddenly laughed in glee when Draven pulled him back against him to get him away from Vesper. Lilo wiggled in his arms, twisted, and gripped his brother around the waist. Draven gasped, surprised when Lilo lifted him and carried him toward the bed.
Vesper wasn’t surprised by the lack of fight, not with the collars or the way Lilo had been staring at Draven since they got there. It was far different from the battle of wills with Devlan or Evan’s frustrating ability to completely ignore his call. He inhaled sharply as he thought of Evan again. It was like a spark lighting fire to his veins every time he remembered him. Evan’s scent, his glare, the pure despair that saturated him deeper than even Vesper’s own misery.
Vesper approached the bed, his gaze moving down Lilo’s smooth back, flexing muscles and swishing tail. He had his brother pinned. Draven’s growl was half-hearted at best, his resistance softening with each kiss of Lilo’s mouth and the slide of their flesh. It was the closest to Vesper’s fantasies of watching others touch. Even in his mind, he never dared participate. It was just too dangerous to give in to such thoughts. To want was to eventually have, and to have would ruin so many. Only once had Vesper’s emotions gotten the best of him and that was at the Hierarchy. He wanted Evan so much, nothing would stop him.
Vesper slid fingertips lightly down the swell of Lilo’s ass, his mood dark with discontent the more he thought of Evanel. Why couldn’t he be satisfied with what he’d been given? He had so little joy; why couldn’t he be happy with the two twisting in his bed? They weren’t him. They weren’t Evan—the guy he barely knew but couldn’t stop obsessing over a week later after one brief meeting.
Lilo moaned, his cry pulling Vesper from his thoughts. He found his palm hot on the demon’s ass. He gripped tighter and pulled Lilo back, his hands sliding down his thighs to urge them open. His inner thigh was softer beneath his fingertips. Lilo trembled and his breath came out in fast pants. He rocked back so his shoulders were tight to Vesper’s chest and his hair tickled his nose.
“You want him?” Vesper’s mouth teased at Lilo’s purple strands.
“Yes. So much.” Lilo grasped his wrist and lifted his hand up so he could pull the half healed wound to his mouth. He licked at the drying blood, his eyes closed. “Make him want me. Please, master. We can have him together.”
Vesper inhaled sharply at the quiet plea while Draven groaned. He looked down to find the red eyed demon staring up beneath heavy eyelids. His expression was full of apprehension quelled by the heavy weight of his hard cock.
“I don’t need to make him.” Vesper raised his gaze back up, lingering on Draven’s mouth as he wet his lips. “You want him, don’t you?” He already knew the answer. They both reeked of arousal for each other. It was impossible not to want Lilo no matter how protective his brother tried to be.
The lack of angry retort was more telling than anything else. Draven’s eyes moved to his brother whose gaze was fixed on his rigid cock. Lilo’s hands explored down and teased between Draven’s thighs. Draven moaned when Lilo bent down and kissed his shaft and his tongue slid out to wet every inch of the hard flesh. Draven sank back onto the bed, dazedly watching as Lilo bobbed and sucked up and down the length of his shaft and his tongue flicked out to tease every drop of precum he could free.
Vesper returned to stroking the flesh of Lilo’s thigh, his hand sliding up to cup his balls and explore the soft flesh that led between his cheeks. He kissed down his back between his wings, lips lingering as he breathed in deep of the demon’s unique scent and their arousal mixed together. Evan’s face again flashed in his mind’s eye and with a growl, he pulled away.
Lilo looked back with a mix of want and concern. The two demons were beautiful, eager, Vesper’s eyes moving down to take them in. He must do this to himself. He was just determined to ruin what little happiness he could have.
At Lilo’s continued stare, Vesper smiled as assuringly as he could. He nodded to Draven. “Show me how you want him. You’re beautiful together. I want to see.”
Lilo blushed. His eyes sparkled and delicate wings flexed as he turned back. He licked down Draven’s stomach and quickly took his cock into his mouth. Draven hissed, his fingers tangling into his brother’s hair as he thrust up into his dripping mouth. Lilo used his tail to wrap around Draven’s thigh and push his leg up. He pressed his thumb to Draven’s entrance, claws dulled to tease the twitching hole while he licked and sucked his swollen tip.
Groaning, Draven threw his head back as fingers stretched into his passage. Lilo released his cock, his eyes tight on is brother’s face as he jerked and twisted on the bed.
Vesper watched, hard, wanting and frustrated with himself. The sexual energy rose around them like a perfume but he felt not compulsion to drink from it. He was made for sex. His allure existed so he could build up and feed off desire if he chose it. Just like these demon fae. If not for Heiden, he would have grown his power in all ways without hesitation.
“Lilo. Please,” Draven gasped out, his face flushed and lips parted.
Lilo melted down, his mouth sealing to Draven’s as he settled between his raised knees. “Now?”
“Yes… fuck.” Draven groaned as Lilo pushed inside his clenching flesh, his head falling back and hands clutching the sheets.
Lilo sheathed deeper, his breath shallow as he grasped the bed for leverage and slowly filled Draven’s passage. He was already close, shaking, their need swirling in the air. “You feel me,” Lilo murmured as he took a breath. He brushed his brother’s hair from his face so he could see his eyes.
Draven nodded, sweat dripping down his chin. He reached up and fisted Lilo’s hair and pulled him down into another kiss. Their horns just missed as Lilo gasped and thrust deeper. “Harder,” Draven growled. “I want to feel all of you.”
Vesper pulled at his own hair fitfully, his eyes raking over the scene of the two. Heiden wasn’t there. There was no consequence worse to wrought at this point. Just to taste the energy would be nothing. He knew it but he couldn’t bring himself to reach out. All he could remember was the feel of Evan’s energy touching his and for one impossible moment, their souls brushed.
“Damn it… Goddess, I am damned.” The memory faded from his body and Vesper was left feeling cold and confused.
He whirled, stalked away from the bed and paced back. Draven and Lilo were twined together, heaving for air with cum slick between them. Draven’s hand lazily slid down his brother’s back, sliding through the sheen of sweat to caress his ass. Lilo lifted his head to look back at Vesper in silent appeal.
“It’s cold here,” Lilo said when Vesper made no move to join them.
“Yes… I’ll have some clothes made for you.” Vesper thought to get the robe left on the floor but Lilo reached his tail out and caught his before he could turn. There was no strength in his pull but Vesper allowed himself to be drawn closer.
“Will you take off your clothes?” Lilo looked up at him with a near pleading expression in his eyes. “Lay with us? Keep us warm?”
Vesper shook his head even as his mind swirled with dark thought once again. He saw it reflected in the wariness of Draven’s eyes when Lilo managed to pull him down so Vesper was laid out beside them on the bed.
Lilo’s eyes gleamed as he stared at Vesper’s chest, then down to where his erection tented his red leather pants. “Can I touch you?” He reached down to rub his bulge, but Vesper caught his wrist and gently led it away.
“I think I’ve caused enough harm tonight.” Vesper closed his eyes as he felt the truth of his words.
What selfish beast was growing inside of him? He just damned these two. Possibly Devlan, possibly Asher, Gilda, Corinth, and his parents. Certainly Evan. The lives were piling up at his feet because he lacked the self control to stop himself.
Vesper rolled to the side, away from Lilo’s fingers brushing across his features. No, not because of a lack of self control. He had self control. He was nothing if not his self control. He let something else grow inside him. Something selfish who wished to live and have pleasure, and with it, he damned everyone he touched.
He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t wait to ensure Devlan followed through and Evan was safe. He pledged his death to the shadow faced god and it was time he gave it.
Draco awoke late Sunday morning with yesterday just a very dull memory in the back of his mind. He could smell Harry, his scent all around him, but couldn’t feel his breath. Maybe that would be the compromise to their situation. Harry would hover, but not in a way he could obviously discern where he was.
Currently, all Draco could think about was how fucking hard he was. He had a fine dream with green eyes, tanned skin, and messy chocolate hair, likely inspired by the scent of who was lurking in his room. Draco was in his own bed, in his own room, where he could very easily, and usually did, take care of this problem. He did not want to have to kick Potter the fuck out, especially when he’d likely sneak back in anyways.
Shit, when did Potter become such a damn voyeur?
With eyes firmly closed, Draco slipped his hand down beneath the waistband of his boxers and tried to be quiet as he wrapped fingers around his erection. Another thing he resented. He never had to be quiet before, not since earning a room of his own. “Oh.”
He was also not very good at being quiet anymore.
Harry’s breath appeared, hot and scalding at the juncture where Draco’s neck met his shoulder. He did everything not to react to it, instead trying to focus on his hand and his dick and nothing about hovering Potter always watching him with those glowing green eyes he could no longer see. “Oh fuck.” He bit his lip to stifle a moan. Harry’s breath moved down his chest as if there was no material between them at all.
He could feel Harry’s body heat as he moved and floated very close above him. He had to be centimeters from touching him, maybe less. Before he could fully even process just how close Harry had to be hovering, he felt him move, the heat of his breath very much on his hand and fisted cock. Draco fought back a cry from the sudden rush of sensation. He threw his head back and bucked as he came into his hand.
Draco lay there panting on the bed, eyes resolutely closed. He waited for Harry to move the fuck away so he could get up and pretend he wasn’t there properly. Eventually he felt Harry move. His body heat disappeared and breath no longer lingered around his thighs.
Fucking Potter… fuck… Draco waited a few more minutes and spent the time wondering if Harry was touching himself, if he might come back over and try to touch him. How that might be a damn good idea.
Draco snapped his eyes open and got up. He was losing his fucking mind, needed to pee and shower and Potter better give him some fucking privacy.
Harry watched from his spot in the corner, his fingers curled on his face while he sank teeth into his hand. The prat hadn’t said a fucking word. Draco touched himself like he wasn’t there even though he damn well knew being a foot away was about the closest he could get before Draco noticed him.
What if he touched him? What would Draco have done then? Yell? Punch? Moan?
Fucking hell… just fuck.
His hand still firmly between his teeth, Harry walked to the bathroom door and peeked his head through the wood. Draco was showering. He looked nearly efficient like Draco was expecting him to be watching and didn’t want to give him any ideas. He had no idea how to deal with this.
All last night Harry decided he would talk to the prat in the morning. He’d convince Draco being gay was so much better than marrying for money, or prestige, or whatever the fuck Malfoy was throwing his life away for. Harry hadn’t prepared for this. Draco just gave him the coldest shoulder ever, pretended he wasn’t even there. He didn’t react to his presence at all to the point of jerking off right in front of him.
Hell, he might not mind too fucking much, either.
Harry stepped into the bathroom, and made sure he was far enough away so Draco wouldn’t be alerted to him. He watched as Draco washed yesterday’s match off his skin and the morning’s cum from his hand.
Was he supposed to pretend too? Ignore Draco Malfoy in the bloody room, nude with pale skin slick with soap and water. He didn’t want to ignore him. He wanted to touch him and show him how fucking good it could be if Draco just stopped fighting what he wanted. He wanted to take that soap, fill Draco’s tight hole with it, and fuck him against the shower until he wailed in delirious agony.
He settled for watching Draco shower while he stroked his cock and his mind swirled with all the many dirty, wonderful things he wanted to do with Draco. Right now they had a strange truce and he was grateful for at least that. If he pushed Draco, he might lose everything. Draco was definitely skittish enough, explosive enough to put him in his place if he pushed too far.
That wasn’t a bad thought either.
“Fuck, Malfoy. You’re such a fucking tease.” Harry grunted, his strokes slowing as he came, and his cum dribbled down. “Hell, I like it when you tease.”
There was no answer and he was left to rest against the wall, eyes trained on Draco as he finished his shower. Once he stepped back into the bedroom, Harry waited in the corner to give Draco whatever perceived sense of space and privacy he needed as he stared unceasingly at the beautiful blond.
He was late for breakfast and Draco was surprised to find Blaise and Pansy waiting for him. Chatting with his friends were Weasley and Granger who were sitting across at the Slytherin table. The Great Hall was nearly empty, but still, it was a bizarre sight.
“Are you two lost?” Draco sat down between his friends and stared pointedly at the Gryffindors.
“Nope, just wanted to say hi to Harry,” Ron replied cheerfully.
Draco glanced at Blaise and Pansy, who did not seem remotely surprised at the news. “And you just assume Potter’s following me around everywhere I go?”
“Duh. Given the chance, I can’t imagine he wouldn’t.”
Draco sighed. He was getting somewhat annoyed with everyone insinuating Harry had a thing for him. Then again, he was late because he ended up having to heal all the fucking bites Potter left on his neck from the night before, so maybe there was a damn point to it. “I haven’t eaten yet, and I would prefer to enjoy my breakfast without having to write at the same time.”
Hermione waved her hand airily. “No really, just to say hi. I doubt he wants to write all the time either. Oh, and to let you know Dumbledore’s specialist has arrived and is waiting down in Snape’s office when you’re done.”
“Okay.” Draco started eating, only to realize the Gryffindors were content to stay where they were, talking to Pansy about something. “Am I missing something here?”
“Just catching up on the feathers and scale thing.” Blaise grinned wickedly.
“Ah… crap.” Scowling, Draco began to shovel food into his mouth to prevent anyone from asking questions. Harry hovered behind him by his shoulder, not touching him for a change. Draco couldn’t tell if he was upset, or what. Harry hadn’t touched him the entire morning, except for a brief moment when Draco held his hand out to make sure the invisible boy was out the bedroom door.
Draco wasn’t oblivious to the relationship Pansy and Blaise had with Potter’s old tag-a-longs, but this was the first time it was blatantly flaunted in front of him. It was a bit odd, but then, so were his friends and he didn’t have an interest in losing them over something as trivial as lions.
“You told them to keep it hush about Potter, right?” Draco asked. “The wrong people could hurt him.”
“Yes, although I still don’t see how that can happen,” Ron said, looking around as if he expected to see Harry. “You’re the only one he can touch.”
“And magic,” Blaise added. “Magic can do a lot of things, even if it’s as simple as caging him and squashing him flat.”
Draco was momentarily stunned. He hadn’t even thought of that, fixated on his fear of someone taking over his body to attack Harry. Without thinking, he reached up behind him until hesitantly Harry touched his hand.
Seeing Draco’s distressed look, not to mention how pale Harry’s friends had gotten, Blaise added quickly, “If anyone could even see him to find him. He did defeat the Dark Lord, after all.”
“No, you’re right,” Draco muttered. “We should be testing him to see if he is effected by our magic.” Draco let go of his hand, only to have Harry wrap around his shoulders and lean on him. His hot breath ruffled Draco’s hair. Apparently he’d given the paw me and hover signal.
Pansy gave Draco a long glance and eventually pointed to his hair. “Bit clingy, huh?”
“Something like that.” He ignored her amused smirk and went back to eating. Granger and Weasely started talking to Harry as if he could answer back. They went over all the things that went on at school that year, what he missed, and how they kept his things in storage at the Burrow. It all blurred in Draco’s mind, especially when Harry shifted. Heat suddenly was on his neck as Harry leaned onto his shoulder for support.
“Potter, are you alright?” he asked quietly. Harry’s face was now pressed against his throat. Draco suddenly groaned and grabbed the idiot by his messy hair as Harry licked up the side of his neck. “Fucking ass! Last time I worry about you!” He shoved Harry backward and tried to ignore how his neck was tingling, his cheeks were flushed, and everyone was staring at him.
Ron burst out laughing and Hermione shook her head in a cross between amusement and reprimand. “Harry, that’s not very polite.”
Draco realized they must have seen his hair move. He covered his face with his hand as Pansy cackled in his ear. “You know, I don’t have to take this. I don’t have to help that stupid wanker, and I don’t have to hang around and let you lot make fun of me.”
“No—No one is making fun, I swear!” Ron choked out between laughs. “It’s him… laughing at him… He used to say something about… making you untidy.”
Draco scowled and moved his hand up to find Potter had ruffled his hair into a mess before being thrown back. “For fuck sake.” He combed his hair back into place, and met Blaise’s twinkling eye.
“I’m sure he’ll stop if you stop reacting to him. He seems like a five year old.”
As if to prove his point, Harry suddenly wrapped arms around Draco, pulled him back on the bench and held him tight against his chest as he whispered something into his ear he could not hear.
Draco twitched, the air very ticklish and skin very warm. He watched as Harry lifted his writing hand and held it out for a pen. Hermione was ready, quill and parchment placed before them. Draco was only just getting the suspicion whatever Potter was going to say would likely be just as bloody annoying as his current behavior, when Harry moved his hand across the paper.
Three year old. I’m very much in need of attention.
Pansy frowned and looked at Draco. “You sure you didn’t write that?”
Please, he’s pretty sure I’m just a dog humping his leg. Right Malfoy?
“Bitter and true.” Draco glared in the direction of Harry’s face.
“Oh Harry, what have you done?” Hermione asked woefully as she read the words upside down.
Well, you’re bloody wrong. And my friends will be happy to tell you.
“I don’t need your friends to tell me you’re a fucked up perv, Potter.”
Ron held the quill still before Harry could respond. “He’s in love with you and let’s leave it at that,” Ron said sternly. His eyes went to Draco’s very wide ones, then to where Harry was pressed into his hair again. “Harry, stop pestering him. He thought you were dead. We all thought it. Have some damn consideration.”
Draco wasn’t sure if he was more shocked the Weasel just said Harry was in love with him, or for berating Harry to protect him. He blinked down when Harry used his hand to write again.
Consideration? Try existing like a fucking ghost for nearly a year, all because some sick fuck didn’t have enough power to kill me.
It was Hermione’s turn. Her hands thumped flat on the table as she stood and glared at Draco’s shoulder as well. “You want a damn pity party? Think we’re going to all sit around and cry because you’re stuck and falling apart in that dimension? Not bloody likely, Harry. Buck the hell up and remember you’re coming back home. Start acting like it.”
Harry tightened around Draco, anger clear in his tense muscles. There was the echo of another spark, as if something jolted Harry around his back. Just as quickly, he was gone; Harry released Draco and stepped away. Draco grabbed the table in surprise to keep from falling backward.
“He’s pissed,” Draco muttered to no one in particular.
“He’ll get over it,” Ron said flatly. “He’s been alone for a long time and he needs to realize you’re a person, not just some fantasy. He probably thought you were dead, too.” He pushed himself up from the table and held his hand out to Hermione. “Come on. We have our whole Sunday still. You know he’ll sulk the day away.”
“Probably.” Hermione turned to Draco with an apologetic look. “Don’t let him bully you around. He’ll hate himself later for it. Whether he’s back and healthy or dies in that place.” She looked up and glanced around the room. “You know I’m right, Harry. Try and get your head on straight.”
Draco stared after their retreating backs. His eyes narrowed as he turned to his remaining friends. “Why would he think I was dead?”
Blaise looked away, but Pansy didn’t back down. “He heard us that night trying to convince you to keep living. Told them. They approached us around Christmas after he died. They didn’t want to talk to you about it but they were worried about you. We were all worried.” She stopped and stood as well. “They helped make it easier for us while we watched you fall apart. It’s been a damn difficult year.”
Draco didn’t say anything, studying his hands instead. He was barely passing his classes, barely eating, barely playing quidditch… barely living. Did he have to feel guilty for his friends’ suffering too?
Pansy didn’t leave right away. Her hand grazed Draco’s chin until he met her eye. “Not blaming you, just explaining how it’s been. We’re all very glad that you made it through.”
Draco nodded and let her kiss his forehead. “Sorry.” He pushed his plate away, not even remotely hungry anymore.
“Did you want me to come along with you?” Blaise was very still as he sat next to Draco.
Draco shook his head. He watched as Blaise got up and left the Great Hall to catch up with Pansy. “Shit. Don’t I feel like a fucking ass?”
He didn’t get an answer for a long time. Harry was off doing whatever it was he did to let off steam. Draco waited patiently. The rest of his day was going to be dedicated to figuring out how to get Harry back. He wasn’t resentful. A part of him wanted to be. A part of him wanted to want more than to spend time with Potter and try to save him. But he wasn’t. Draco was near happy he could help him, even with how annoying and frustrating things were between them.
Was that why Potter stared so much the end of last year? Harry discovered he was going to protect himself against Voldemort the only way he had available. By taking his life. For someone with a severe hero complex, Harry hadn’t said a goddamn word, or tried to do a damn thing. Draco appreciated it. It was his life, and his choice on what to do with it. That Harry loved him… Well, that was a lot of food for thought.
Maybe Potter wasn’t a groping, pawing dog trying to get into his pants once he realized he liked guys. Maybe Harry didn’t even think he had some right to him because he killed Voldemort. Maybe he was just fucking lonely, and lost, and very much wanted to share feeling alive with another warm body. A warm body he apparently had feelings for since last year.
Harry was again across the table, Draco noticed with a start when a hand pushed into his aura of awareness. Draco slowly ran his hand over the table and stopped when his fingertips found Harry’s. “Let me know when you’re ready to go.”
Harry’s fingers brushed over his hand but Draco resolved to stay and not react angrily like he kept doing. He wasn’t angry Harry insisted on touching him, he realized. He was more angry he wouldn’t be able to have it always. Every touch was intense, hot and wild, and it made Draco jump. It was hard enough dealing with the madness it drove him towards and it would soon be taken away. Harry would be brought back and go on with his life as the savior of everything. While Draco would continue on his path of numbness with no more wild sparks to make him feel alive.
Harry’s hand stilled and rested lightly on his. With wicked impulse Draco pulled and smacked his hand over Harry’s. “How the hell did you beat snakehead with reflexes like that, hmm? I can’t even see you.”
He felt Harry’s hand twitch as he got ready to strike. Draco pulled his hand away with a smile. “Too slow—Hey!” Harry grabbed his wrist in his surprisingly strong grip and slowly pulled his hand closer.
“Don’t be a poor loser, Potter. Ah…” His lashes lowered as breath warmed his fingers. He felt words mumbled into his hand. Draco used his other hand to push the parchment and quill towards Harry but he didn’t seem interested. Lips pressed to his fingertips next. Draco took a shaky breath. His eyes flitted around the Great Hall, which was now empty of anyone else.
When Harry started to nip at one of his fingers, Draco wasn’t too concerned with being seen gasping and hand hanging in the air like a weirdo. He wondered what Harry’s expression looked like. Was it was intent on the fingers he was gently biting, or on his face to see him react. It was frustrating not to know, not to see him at all.
“Oh… oh, okay. I don’t know if…” Draco trailed off as Harry’s tongue slipped around his fingers. Two were pulled into his hot mouth and sucked down and Harry’s tongue lapped further to reach his palm. Maybe Potter was just a fucking dog trying to hump his leg every moment. Draco could feel his teeth, the brush of the roof of his mouth and then the flat of his tongue with absolutely nothing in front of him. He was torn between the damn delicious sensation and the bizarreness of it all.
Swallowing, he closed his eyes and carefully pulling his trapped finger out of Harry’s mouth. He lingered on the warm swell of flesh when he pressed into his lips. He couldn’t see the saliva but could feel it clinging to his flesh. It was such an odd thing; to be at the cusp of a window with no way to see the other side, but still, just so close. With his eyes closed it was far more real. Harry was just on the other side of his eyelids licking his hand like some perverted deviant.
That it was turning him on was more Draco’s problem than anything to do with the continued fact that Potter was totally messed up. He slowly extracted his hand from Harry’s and let it fall to the table again. When he opened his eyes, all their information revealed he was completely alone in the room. “Come on, Potter. Let’s get you fixed up already.”
Draco let the warm water wash over him. He sat on the tiled floor, studying his hands and feet as they turned pink and pruned from being too long in the water.
If fucking himself with his fingers while thinking of Harry fucking Potter didn’t prove he was gay, he really didn’t know what the fuck would.
His mother wanted him to marry, have children, run the Ministry. Stupid, trivial shit he had little interest in but his mother was very determined about. Like it did so much good for his father. All the money he made and hours away from the house, just to end up a damn psycho, who murdered innocent defenseless muggles while secretly hoping to kill a boy the same age as his own son. A boy who did nothing wrong except live the first time some other psycho tried to kill him.
After taking a look at his family bloodlines, Draco was pretty certain kids were not the way to go. Very few of his relatives weren’t insane, murderous, or just fucking terrible people in general. There was Sirius Black… Nymphadora Tonks… and him. Since he was fairly certain he could smell someone who was dead for nearly a year, and not in a rotting way, he wasn’t so damn sure about himself anymore.
Serene Vellamorn, the pureblood Narcissa researched, pursued, and managed to contract into engagement with her gay son, did not have much of a better family history. Oh, sure, the occurrence of squibs and human hearted likely made their way in only to be struck out of record, but it had little effect on the young lady herself. She was wealth oriented and hateful. So hateful that on meeting her for the first time at thirteen, Draco decided he needed to change. Because talking so much shit about mudbloods and muggles just left you looking awfully dim and ugly.
Not that Serene wasn’t beautiful. His mother managed to find a girl as waif like and delicate as possible, almost as if she was hoping to make him look much more manly next to her. Draco feared they’d probably spend too much time fighting over the mirror, not to mention he’d likely cut out her tongue a week into the relationship just to prevent the horrible creature from speaking the things she spoke. How someone so lovely and privileged could hate the world so much was beyond him. Serene’s parents weren’t Death Eaters.
It didn’t matter. His fate was sealed. Draco made a promise to his father when the man was towering in rage. His strong fingers wrapped around his arm in a painful death lock were moments away from dragging him down the hall to his Dark Lord. He would stop insisting he was gay and continue the Malfoy bloodline if Lucius would not force the dark mark on him. It was one slavery for another.
Blaise and Pansy could speak all they liked about being under duress and in extenuating circumstances, but he made a promise. A promise which allowed him to stay free from the sick fuck, Voldemort, and alive for the final week before the Dark Lord died. Draco was not broken, corrupted, maimed, or harmed—unlike the other’s who received the mark while Lucius made him watch.
With Lucius jailed permanently, Draco was responsible for restoring the Malfoy name and making sure their bloodline continued. That was okay, even when his intended was hateful and dim, because he wasn’t marked by the Dark Lord and not tied to his power. Voldemort didn’t take his magic and strength into his battle. That one promise ensured Draco hadn’t assisted in the murder of Potter.
Still, it seemed Harry was determined to haunt him.
“Fucking hell. Fucking quidditch. Fucking Potter.” Muttering, Draco got to his feet, turned off the water spray and nearly fell. Darkness edged his vision and he swayed. “Fuck. I can’t eat, can’t sleep. Losing my motherfucking mind.” He grabbed a towel from the bar and wrapped himself in the fluffy black material to dry off.
“Over a fucking Quidditch game. Shit. I am losing my fucking shit. Haunted by a scent—Who the fuck does that? Who the fuck hexes someone’s dead scent everywhere?” Shaking his head in disbelief, Draco tossed his towel in the laundry and padded to his bureau in the other room to throw a pair of pajama pants on. He didn’t feel like eating. His stomach was still queasy at the slightest mention of food. He was tired and didn’t care how early it still was.
He crawled under his magically charmed sheets, enchanted to keep him warm in the chill dungeon air. It was his own fault, really. He paid too much attention to Potter, loving his fucking eyes, wanting his damn rude mouth. Even liking his messy hair. It was the color of chocolate, and always rumpled, and so very different from the people around him. Potter was wild, passionate, and not afraid to speak up for what he wanted in the face of every fucking terrible thing going on in the world. He was fearless.
Draco didn’t even know the meaning of the word. His parents didn’t know the meaning. They struck so much fear in him and yet, were filled with it themselves, afraid to be killed by the lord they served. All he had was fear. Fear and hope that he could escape one day. Potter was a big part of that hope. Fuck, Potter changed his entire world.
Then he disappeared. Each day Draco waited, waited for news he would be found—Alive, full of arrogance and triumph. Fuck, just alive would be enough. But they didn’t find him. Over half a year later, they weren’t going to find him because surely he was dead. And as that thought seeped into him, his hope left as well.
Potter changed his world but Draco couldn’t. He wasn’t fearless. He barely knew how to live.
Sleep clung as Draco felt breath move across his face and tickle his cheek. He reached up to rub the spot, sighed and let his hand rest and fingers curl. He had the nightmare again, the one where he was being chased by an unseen force. He didn’t have to see to know it was Voldemort. The monster’s presence was always the same mixture of terror and hopelessness in his mind. It was the dream where he was running but no matter how hard he tried, he was moving so slowly, just out of reach of the grasping claws…
He must have woken himself up crying out. It wouldn’t be the first time… No. Something woke him. A faint brush to his forehead, a warm weight on his lips… That’s what woke him.
Draco opened his eyes and blinked sleepily as he tried to see where the figure must surely be. Again, soft breath fanned so close and he peered in the direction. The dark didn’t revealing anything. He touched his lips and felt them tingle. When he breathed deep, Harry’s scent was very strong in his senses, like he was all around him.
“You must think it’s funny,” he whispered. “Some sort of fucking joke to drive me crazy. Haunting me.”
His eyelids drooped as sleep pulled him again. Draco turned his face towards the warm puffs of air, moved closer to where he could sense someone resting only inches away. “Jokes on you, Potter. I was already fucking crazy when it came to you.” His eyes fell shut and sleep washed back over him.
He was pulled again from sleep. Warm breath ghosted over his cheek, fanned across his mouth. Draco gasped softly when lips brushed his and fingertips gently touched his face. There was a soft exhalation next to his nose and warm lips pressed persistent until his own parted and a wet tongue met his.
Just as suddenly it pulled away. The heat left his mouth although fingers still gently stroked the side of his face. Draco breathed out unsteadily and eyelashes fluttered. The hand pulled away and he frowned and huffed. “S’alright… don’t leave.” Sleep again was calling him down. Lost moments slipped by and then the hand returned. Fingers traced his features as he drifted off to sleep.
This time he dreamed of summer and laughter.
Harry watched Draco sleep while he rested on the magic imbued sheets and wondered if he was losing his mind as well. He stayed in the bathroom for the longest time until he couldn’t bear it anymore. A part of him feared Draco left and he would again be alone with the strange bursts of energy tearing his body apart.
How the fuck did Malfoy know it was him? He said something about his scent. But how could Malfoy know what he smelled like? People smelled like people, not like individual people, just enough to recognize flesh and know another of the same species.
He bent close to Draco’s ear and intentionally breathed in his scent for the first time. Harry hadn’t smelled another living being besides Fawkes in months. Draco didn’t smell like the slightly dusty, fire-soaked bird. But he didn’t quite smell like what Harry remembered other people to smell like either. What he did smell like was amazing, that was for certain.
Could this have to do with Malfoy’s glowing white form of feathers and scales? Did maybe that part of Draco sense him in a different way than how normal people sensed each other? It was the only place they actually touched, on that fifth plane of existence. Maybe it was there that Malfoy could recognize him. Maybe Draco could even recognize him before when he wasn’t trapped out of sync with the world.
Draco sat in at least two different planes of existence every moment of his life, one of them very much being the dimension Harry needed to get back to. Surely, somehow, Malfoy was the key to getting him whole again. Harry breathed up his neck and tried to absorb. He wanted remember his scent the same way Draco knew his. Without his consent, his tongue flicked out and caught on his skin. If Draco smelled amazing, he tasted even more so.
Harry wasn’t sure why he was having such a difficult time controlling himself. He touched Draco in the shower and was licking him now. Even as he stared at Draco’s sleeping face and told himself not to, he knew he was going to lick him again. He bent his head, his tongue wide and flat as he ran from Draco’s collar up the long column of his pale throat until he reached his jaw. Draco shifted in his sleep, murmuring softly. Still, he couldn’t stop himself. Harry licked him again while breathing in his sweet scent and trailing saliva over Draco’s sensitive neck.
He could bite him right on the side of his warm flesh. He could sink his teeth in, clamp his jaws tight and… And something. Harry wasn’t exactly sure what biting Draco was supposed to do but the dangerous spark bubbling in him since he realized Draco was alive seemed to have a voice. That voice knew biting Malfoy would be a very, very good thing to do. Shaking his head, Harry licked Draco instead. He trailing another long swipe to soothe the neck he tormented so readily just earlier that day.
He gazed at Draco’s face, who was finally calm now free of nightmares and deep in sleep. Was it worth going back? Did he want to live like before, where he never had a chance to be this close to Draco Malfoy?
The main floor of Kronos Tech was empty. Bernie let Kyle in. The security guard’s kind smile did nothing to mask the pitying look in his eyes. Bernie was surprisingly silent when it came to their normal chitchat of the day before. Valentine’s Day. Kyle tried to keep his grin strong until he was out of sight, then allowed his features to relax. Fuck, he wasn’t in a hurry to see that look throughout the day.
He wasn’t one of those lonely widowers, and not just because of work. Kyle filled his days with hobbies, fun, people and he rarely felt alone. Not really. Except lately that wasn’t true. Since the Christmas incident Kyle was different. He didn’t go out anymore. He stopped dating. He stopped doing much of anything after he installed the new security system. He had a home gym put in so he didn’t have to even leave for that. Outside of work, he locked himself up in his house and he didn’t want to think about why.
This is what you wanted, Daddy. You wanted me…
Fucking psycho. Kyle stepped into the office kitchen and went straight to the coffee maker. He got a fresh pot brewing and fiercely kept his hands from shaking. His hard-on was more difficult to acknowledge, never mind deal with.
He bought a gun. A gun he immediately locked up in the new safe to replace the one broken into. When he realized just how fucking little he believed the lock to be able to do a thing, Kyle felt something break inside. His wife’s death shook his world once, over ten years ago. He was so desperate to figure out how he got passed it because here he was, him and his son alive but full of a fear he could barely quantify.
Shouldn’t it have been easier? No one died. Outside of the strange attraction between him and Joshy and the unnatural things they did that night, no one was hurt. The bruise on his head didn’t even lead to a concussion. The money stolen was hardly of consequence. Yet still, Kyle couldn’t shake the feeling Nick was watching and just waiting to return.
All the way, Daddy. Fill the slut. Get deep inside that ass and show your son who he belongs to.
Kyle spilled his coffee when he grabbed for the cup. The liquid was bitter and scalding but he drank it down fast. The pain was better than the fucked up thoughts in his head.
No one had seen Nick since Christmas. The cops didn’t know just what the home invasion led to but they were looking for the armed man and the jewelry he stole. Joshua was brave enough to go all the way to college on his own. Kyle told himself every time he stepped out of the house for work or groceries, he wasn’t afraid either. Tonight, like every night, he’d avoid his home for as long as possible. When he finally stepped back into the empty building, he would take Max for a walk through every room, then lock himself in his bedroom and masturbate while thinking of his son.
Another thing he refused to dwell on.
He glanced at his watch only to find coffee dripping from his shirtsleeve. If it burned, Kyle didn’t feel it. With a sigh, he placed his empty mug on the counter and made his way past the offices to the executive bathroom. His team just finished up a big project which consumed the better part of the last three weeks. Something Kyle already missed since he was left with far too much time to think.
There was a plastic, neon-yellow sandwich board alerting of a wet floor outside the bathroom door. Kyle paused when he saw the janitor’s bucket. The women’s room was wide open and held in place with a wedge, but the men’s room looked to be in working order. He pushed his way inside and made his way to the mirrored wall lined with a row of sinks.
Kyle unclasped his heavy watch and placed it on the counter top, then tugged his sleeve down his hand. He turned the faucet on and let the lukewarm water run over the coffee stain. Idly he studied the way the water wet his shirt and the brown stain began to bleed at the edges and slowly fade. He was having trouble sleeping. Eating as well, but the sleeping was the worst. Every time, it was like Joshy was right there, hot against his back or tight in his arms, body rubbing up against him.
Do it harder… Please, Daddy. Fuck, please.
Kyle closed his eyes and fought back a groan. He needed to do something about this. Maybe it was time to consider fucking someone other than his son. Anyone. That it felt like he’d be betraying Joshy only pointed out just how fucked up this entire thing was.
Roses. He got him fucking roses.
He heard the rolling of the janitor’s cart outside the door and Kyle snapped his eyes open. He was hard—fuck, just thinking about what happened kept getting him hard. He turned the faucet to cold and thrust his wrist under the spray in the hope it would help shock him back to reality. The door squeaked as it swung open, and Kyle kept his gaze down. He wasn’t in the mood for aimless pleasantries. Nothing felt fucking okay lately, and pretending it did was unbearable.
The rolling wheels of the bucket were unnaturally loud in the contained, tiled room. Kyle barely perceived the door closing shut. It wasn’t until he heard a mop slap as it hit the ground was he pulled from his swirling thoughts. Was the guy seriously going to wash the floor while he was standing in the middle of the room?
“Sorry, I’ll get out of your way.” Polite to a fault, Kyle quickly turned the faucet off and reached for the paper towel, only to freeze. His heart slammed in his chest when he caught sight of a familiar pair of shoes step up behind him. Impossible. He was having a mental fucking breakdown.
Something snapped through him. Kyle whirled and threw a punch before he could be shot. He connected with air. Nick barreled into him before he fully turned and slammed him hard against the counter. His hip flared in pain, as did his scalp when his hair was pulled brutally tight and head wrenched to the side.
Kyle gasped. His eyes closed against his will when he was pulled into a strong embrace. A mouth pressed to the side of his face, lips soft but firm, breath hot. “You miss me, Daddy?”
“Nick?” A dream. It was a dream. A fucking hallucination. What would Nick be doing in the bathroom of his work?
Kyle’s lashes snapped open to find piercing blue eyes staring at him. He swallowed hard as his mind flooded with all the dark, twisted memories of the last time he saw Nick. He looked the same. The same careless, black hair, wild eyes, and handsome features. The dark stubble on his face was trimmed tighter but it seemed even in the morning, he refused to be fully clean-shaven. Young. Not as young as Joshua, but young enough for Kyle to wonder just what fucked him up and if he could be fixed if given a chance. That was, if there wasn’t such a dangerous, crazy glint in Nick’s eyes every time they glared into his.
“You look good.” Nick pulled hard on Kyle’s amber blond hair and gaze roamed down to his exposed neck. With his other hand he reached for Kyle’s tie and smoothed the silky fabric. “Sexy, Daddy. All ready for work. Damn, and that aftershave.” He leaned down and breathed in. Nick’s exhale was a low groan and it sent a hot shudder right through Kyle’s body.
His brain couldn’t catch up. “What are you…? Why are you here?” Was he robbing him again?
Nick’s voice was mocking as he kissed Kyle’s neck. “What, you don’t think I can get a job in a swanky place like this?” He released his tie and pressed down the small of his back, past his belt and over his ass. He stroked his cheek through the fabric of his pants, rough palm caressing his muscles, gripping and pulling him close. “You’d be surprised. Even the classiest of joints needs a hoard of nobodies to keep it running. You think rooms clean themselves? You think those cameras aren’t being watched? Do you even know how many people work in the three restaurants and cafeteria?”
Nick buried his face against Kyle’s neck. He lapped a long line with his tongue, then nipped hard with dull teeth. “I’ve been reading your mail. You’re always so busy; you never have time for anyone anymore. You don’t call. Don’t write.” Nick’s grip on Kyle’s hair grew tighter and he wrenched his head back, fingers digging in to his skull. He looked at Kyle’s panting face, his expression thoughtful. “I could have drugged your coffee. I could have taken you in your car when you sat there for twenty minutes this morning. You get here so early when no one else is around. It would be nothing to drag you out of here without anyone knowing.”
Fear gripped Kyle. The room spun and his knees felt like they were going to give out. “You’re watching me?” Just how long had Nick worked there? Did he start before the robbery? Just how fucking long was he watching him?
Nick grinned viciously as he watched the fear flash across his face. He grabbed Kyle by the collar and slammed him up against the wall. Kyle’s breath stuttered, Nick’s face inches from his, hands holding him up against the hard tile. “You know I’d never leave you. No matter how much you fuck up. No matter how much you hurt me.” He leaned in and his mouth slid over Kyle’s. “I’d never leave my daddy.”
Crazy. The guy was fucking crazy. The insanity of Nick’s words were made worse with the intelligence in his eyes. Here was a man who could break into his house and safe, avoid capture from the police, and who could charm his way into his company, all while being absolutely out of his fucking mind.
Kyle tried to turn his head when Nick’s lips crushed down on his, but the grip on his hair wouldn’t budge. He eventually broke out of his stupor enough to raise his arms and push him back. Nick released him only to grasp and twist his wrists, and slam him back again. Kyle hissed in pain as his head cracked against the tile. His dizzy protests were cut off when his mouth was covered again and Nick’s tongue drove between his lips.
Kyle blamed it on how long it was since he last got laid. How having Joshua day after day did something to him until his body was just expecting sex. Seeing Nick brought it all back, the fear, the heightened senses, the absolute need for release from the crazy feelings pulsing inside him.
“Fuck, I missed you. Your sexy, hot body.” Nick growled between kisses to his jaw. He pinned Kyle’s lower body with his hips and reached between them. Kyle struggled but Nick was quick to devour his mouth again. It was wet, consuming, and he stole his breath and reason until Kyle was tight against the wall again. Kyle groaned when his shirt was pulled from his waistband, his belt swiftly undone and torn from the loops to clatter to the floor. Nick’s palm cupped his dick, rubbing his erection with an appreciative murmur.
Jesus, what the fuck was he letting him do? It didn’t matter how fucking horny he was. Nick had broke into his house, had held them at gunpoint and made them do twisted, messed up things. Now he was stalking him, threatening to poison him. “Stop. Just…” Kyle tried to push Nick back, his movements lacking focus. This time when Nick grabbed his nearest wrist, he threaded something around it. Kyle didn’t fully understand when his arm was twisted painfully behind his back before he felt the cinch of unyielding plastic bite his flesh. “What are you…? Fuck.” He gasped when Nick took a step away. He kept one hand on Kyle chest, holding him in place. Kyle’s arms wouldn’t budge.
He strained, twisting, his flesh growing sore and raw in moments from his struggles against the unmoving plastic tie binding his wrists together. His chest heaved as he started to realize the seriousness of his predicament. He had no leverage but he tried to roll his shoulders, break through somehow that way. All it did was wrench his flesh and arch his back off the wall. Nick watched him with a wicked smile, his eyes moving down his body while Kyle struggled uselessly.
“You’re hard for me, Daddy. I knew you missed me.” Nick pressed forward and rubbed up against him. Snarling, Kyle tried to push him back. It was nothing for Nick to pin his shoulders in place no matter how much Kyle twisted. His mouth sealed to his throat and teeth nipped punishingly. Kyle hissed from the pain, stilling when Nick lined their hips so their erection ground together.
“Let me go.” Kyle closed his eyes and silently cursed his dick. Struggling was only getting him hotter. Nick wasn’t helping with every rough kiss he bit into his flesh. Damn, what the fuck was wrong with him? He went to twist his upper body again to knock him off. Instead his shirt ripped. Kyle snapped his eyes open to find Nick tearing down his dress shirt, buttons snapping and popping free as he tugged. Nick pushed Kyle’s white t-shirt up his heaving chest, twisted it under his armpits, and drank in the sight of him caught and helpless.
“Nice. Fuck, I’ve missed seeing you naked. You have a great body.” Nick grabbed Kyle’s tie and smoothed it slowly over his nipple. Kyle shuddered despite himself, his breath coming out in a sharp burst. Nick grinned, leaned down and kissed the little bud. He let his teeth brush over it, teasing the edge, Kyle’s hitches of breath spurring him on. When Nick’s hand grasped his hip and pulled him closer, Kyle couldn’t stop his groan, not when he rubbed against his dick again. He was throbbing, he was so hard.
Nick reached down and smoothed his palm over Kyle’s erection again, teasing it through his pants. “You want my cock, daddy? Do you miss how my cum dripped from your hole?”
“Shut up.” Kyle grunted as he fought the heat rising in him. “What the fuck do you want?”
His head tilted and Nick’s face again was far too close, his breath mingling with Kyle’s. “How many times does a guy have to grab your dick until you get he’s interested in taking things further?” His hand squeezed Kyle’s shaft and explored through the folds of fabric. “I’m trying to love you here, Daddy. You’re making it pretty hard when you keep trying to get away.”
Damn him. Kyle’s mind spun even as he fought again at the binding on his wrists. It would have made sense if Nick was there to rob him again, maybe get some sort of payout from stealing the tech they developed in the business. Fuck, even coming back to kill him so there were no witnesses would make more sense than this. But fuck him? To risk capture and prison just to fuck him? All the guy needed was five minutes on a dating app and he’d be laid. No, this was absolute madness.
“You’re such a proper man, aren’t you?” Nick brushed fingertips over Kyle’s nipple, then pinched it. “Upstanding. A good man. You live in a big house, go to work five times a week. You’re the perfect man in every way except for how you put your dick in your son and fucked him.” Nick slowly reached for Kyle’s tie, his expression unreadable as he wrapped the material around his fist. “You liked it, daddy. You fucked your boy raw and you came in that tight hole of his. But you don’t write him, do you? You don’t call. You got what you wanted and you bailed.”
Kyle glared, his tie pulled up, the fabric tightening around his neck like a noose in Nick’s hands. He struggled not to panic when each breath he took was a little harder to get the air he needed. Nick stared him in the eye, watching every expression. Kyle refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing his fear.
When Nick reached down this time, Kyle caught in place by his tie, he went straight for his zipper. “Wait… Damn.” Kyle bit his lip, unable to meet Nick’s piercing stare when his bare fingers wrapped around his cock and stroked.
“Fuck, you’re still hung.” Nick glanced down and licked his lips when he pulled Kyle’s dick free of his underwear. He was rock hard, flushed dark, and leaking precum from its reddened tip. “Big daddy. I remember when you fucked this into your son’s tight ass. You ruined him. How many times did you fuck that hot slut of yours? Could he even walk after?”
Kyle, who shut his eyes in an effort to block it all out, hissed when the tie around his neck was yanked up. Nick grabbed him by the face, his fingers digging into his cheek until he looked him in the eyes. Kyle glared back silently, hating him with everything he had.
“You fucked him again, didn’t you?” Nick’s gaze slipped down to Kyle’s lips and he breathed out heavily. “Did you let him go or fuck him when he couldn’t get away? He begged you, right? I saw it on his face; he wanted you.”
“Just shut up,” Kyle gritted out.
Nick’s hand wouldn’t stop his torment, nor would his mouth. “Tell me you gave him what he needed. Tell me you kept giving it to him. A son like that you have to guide. You have to be there for him or that sweet little slut of yours might find himself a new cock.”
“You’re fucked in the head… Uh.” Nick’s hand wrapped around the crown of his dick, his palm cupping the pulsing point and squeezing. Kyle sank into the sensation despite his efforts not to. “Damn you.”
“I’m not the one who fucked your kid raw,” Nick murmured. “Just what would the neighbor’s say? Your coworkers?” A lethal spark lit his eyes as he pressed a kiss to Kyle’s resistant lips. “Those were some damn fine roses he sent you. He loves his daddy. Next time I see Josh, maybe I’ll bring him something just as nice, huh?”
“Stay the fuck away from him!” Snarling, Kyle surged forward with renewed strength. He managed to push him back two steps before Nick raised the hand holding his tie above his head and pulled hard. Kyle choked, gasping for air when his lungs couldn’t open to draw it in. It felt like an eternity, Nick’s eyes twin pools as the room darkened and points of light sparked in green and blue pinpricks tearing through the universe. Nick pushed him back roughly and Kyle landed heavily on the wall, precum drooling thick from his cock. The room spun drunkenly around him and his heart pounded in his ears. Although his lungs could draw air in, the fabric around his neck was so tight, it felt like his blood was stuck thrumming in his head with no where to go.
A scent reached him, and Kyle groaned as his nose filled with the cloying smell of artificial strawberries. Nick’s hands returned to push down his slacks and underwear. Oil slick, hot flesh encased his cock. Kyle jolted dazedly as Nick stroked his dick from balls to tip, drawing it out, coating him with his favorite lube with each swipe.
Nick’s voice rumbled in his ear, sounding far away even as he kissed along Kyle’s jaw. “You have such a nice dick. You can’t even understand how much I dream about riding it. You promised.” Nick rocked his hips forward, moving up Kyle’s body with his next stroke. “It was a Christmas promise, remember? You’d take me to your office. Just you and me. Alone time with dad.”
Blearily, Kyle remembered how he tried to lure Nick into his home office so Joshua could escape. Had he invited this? Had one misdirected plan set this all into play? Kyle was having trouble focusing outside of the hot, slick suction of Nick’s hands as he stroked his cock and the wavering of the room. Joshy… He needed to warn Joshy.
Nick groaned low in his chest when precum surged thick down Kyle’s shaft in another pulse. He ducked his head, kissing his nipples, licking down the center of his chest, tongue swirling in the spray of soft body hair. “Next time, Daddy.” He jacked Kyle harder, his body rocking with the rhythm. “I need to be inside you too much. You’re so fucking sexy and I can’t wait any longer.”
The world spun, Kyle’s shoulder jarring, the tile cold on his chest and navel as Nick pinned him face first against the wall. “Fuck, that’s nice. Spread for me. Let me see that ass and thighs.” Kyle’s reality tilted, his balance lost. Nick pulled him back by his hips, his body hot along the line of his back. He barely had a moment to steady before his head was yanked back, Nick again guiding him by the tie around his throat and stealing his breath in a sea of red pinpricks.
“Look,” Nick ordered. Kyle forced his heavy eyelids open after a moment, a whimper breaking free when he saw himself in the mirror beside them. “You’re going to watch me fuck you.” Nick’s mouth was hot on his ear. “How do I do you, Daddy? Were you good?”
Everything felt like it was coming at him from all directions. Heat, cold, pleasure, pain. Nick’s voice echoed off the walls. Kyle’s head swam and heat flooded in waves through his body every time the fabric around his neck pulled too tight. His skin was tingling and feverish, like it belonged to someone else.
“Tell me, how many times did you fuck him?” Nick’s fingers pushed between Kyle’s cheeks and smoothed lube around the rim of his hole. “I watched. The two of you didn’t leave the house for days. You barely left your bedroom.” Nick’s lips were wet when he licked down the side of his neck. “How many times?”
“I don’t… I don’t know.” Kyle whispered. His head tilted back heavily on Nick’s shoulder as he focused on every breath he only half dragged in.
“But you did him, right?” Nick’s fingers pushed inside him, opening up his channel, thick and sleek as he stroked along his passage walls. “You fucked him after I left. Again and again. You can tell me, Daddy.”
Kyle squeezed his eyes shut and tried to block the memory out. He’d been trying to block it out since Joshua went back to college. They were caught up in the moment, seeking comfort. A bitter laugh tore from Kyle’s throat. There was no comfort in Joshy’s body, only lust. A need so strong, so addictive, when it wasn’t Joshua demanding he stay, he demanded it of his son. He fucked Joshua so long, his son was late getting back to classes and he missed two days of work.
Fucked up. He fucked up so bad.
“Nick… please. Don’t hurt him.” He turned his head with an effort, pleading to the man in the mirror. Nick glanced his way. The image fuzzed to gray the longer Kyle stared. His nude body stretched out before him, shirt wrapped around his arms where a thin plastic strap bound his wrists. His cock was hard and glistening with oil, face and neck red, lips swollen, hair a mess. Nick leaned behind him, spreading his ass wide as he fucked long fingers into him. He was fully clothed except where his flushed dick swayed free from his unzipped jeans. Kyle tried to focus, his gaze drawn back up to his face. “Please. Whatever you want…”
“I already have everything I want.” Nick pressed forward and kissed the nape of Kyle’s neck. His cock nuzzled determinedly between his cheeks, hot and slick with lube. “I know I’m a day late but I plan on spending Valentine’s Day with the two most important men in my life.”
“Nick, wait…” Kyle’s voice was lost when his tie was yanked again. Nick pulled him back and onto his cock. Kyle’s entrance stretched to the tip, a groan rumbling through him as deep as the fire roaring again in his veins. His eyes rolled back and body arched the same moment Nick surged forward. He sheathed into his tight passage with slow, relentless thrusts, forcing Kyle to open to his cock, filling him, grounding him while his body floated.
“That’s it… fuck, that’s it. You’re always going to be mine. Always.” Nick held Kyle one handed by the hip, pulled out to his tip, and slammed deep inside. Kyle lips parted in a breathless cry, the edges curled in a smile of lost bliss. The knot at his neck slipped tighter, Nick’s jarring thrusts sending him reeling into the dark and stars. His body bowed beyond his control, colors sparking right before Kyle’s orgasm tore free in heavy pulses, his cum splattering the wall and dripping down.
“Yes. That’s how you like it,” Nick growled into Kyle’s ear. He held him by the chest and pushed him up the wall for greater leverage. Blearily Kyle heard the slap of their skin, Nick’s grunts with every hard thrust. Fingers bit into his jaw, Kyle’s head rolling lax towards the mirror in response. “I want you to see me come inside you. Hold on, Daddy. Just a little more. You’re getting so tight… so fucking tight.”
Kyle’s eyes wandered over the reflection, unable to recognize the blond man being fucked against the wall. He tried to remember where he was even as his vision edged in black. Behind him, Nick rode him hard, his dick burying into him over and over. His expression was a mix of sharp blue eyes, furrowed brows, and gently parted lips. Kyle watched, the world spinning as his body tensed, ass flexed and thighs pushed back to meet every slam forward.
“That’s it… fuck, that’s it.” Nick surged forward a final time. He pinned Kyle against the wall and ground in deep, his knuckles white where he pulled on his tie and gripped his flesh. His hips spasmed and jerked as he unloaded into his clenching passage. “Fuck… fuck. Take my cum.”
The tile had turned gray with a yellow halo instead of the white it should be. Kyle kept blinking but it didn’t change. His breath wheezed out hoarsely when Nick finally released his strangle hold. Palms smoothed down his trembling torso, sliding through sweat and seed. Kyle looked down, numbly wondering where all the cum coating his navel came from. He couldn’t remember coming but semen was dripping down the wall and drizzled in white streams on his abdomen.
Nick’s hand twisted into his hair. Kyle moaned when he was pulled to the side roughly and lips descended and stole his breath again. Nick kissed him bruisingly, relentless, like he was trying to steal the life from Kyle for himself.
“I’m going to see you again, Daddy. Real soon.” Nick wrenched his head. Kyle’s body melted into the movement as Nick bit rough, hungry welts down his throat. “You’re going to wait for me. You’re going to be really fucking good and do everything I tell you. Understand? Don’t piss me off.”
Kyle was beyond lost. A strange grin of bliss stretched at his lips still. His feet didn’t quite reach the ground, the wall soft and malleable, ears full of the sound of his own blood. When Nick stepped away, Kyle was assaulted with the burning florescent lights. Escape wasn’t even an echo in his mind, especially when Nick returned with something slim in his palm.
The needle pinch barely registered through Kyle’s oxygen starved brain. He felt fingers fumble at his neck and the tie was pulled loose. Kyle’s chest heaved but when his mind cleared enough to focus, all he could see were Nick’s glittering, crazed eyes. Kyle blinked slowly as he tried to understand when he got on the floor, his bare legs chilled from the tile. The room spun alarmingly at the edges behind where Nick knelt in front of him.
“Don’t fuck me on this, Kyle. If I get even a whiff of cops, you’re never going to see that sexy slut of yours again.”
“Joshy?” Kyle croaked. He tried to reach out only to realize his arms were still bound behind him. He struggled—or thought it—for his body didn’t seem to be responding.
“I’ll see you real soon.” Nick leaned down and kissed him again. His tongue dove into Kyle’s gasping mouth, stroking in ownership before he pulled away. “Things are so much better when we’re together. You’ll see.”
Nick blurred before his eyes. Kyle heard the janitor’s cart although couldn’t see it when it moved. The door swung open and shut and Nick’s footsteps whispered when he approached. Kyle struggled to pull his eyes open, to get his voice to work. Joshy… Had to help Joshy.
When Kyle’s wrists were cut free, he was too woozy to feel it, along with the parting kiss to his forehead.
It was only as he drifted, lost to the conscious world, did his mind spark. Nick’s gun… Where was his gun?