by R Phoenix
“I know what you want him to do,” Emma flatly told Bryce. “Will you do it?” she asked Kolt.
“For someone who is so scared of me, you sure push your luck a lot, Detective,” Kolt said.
“When have I ever said I was scared of you?” Emma shot back.
“Every time that goddamn door opens and the spell falls away, you get scared,” Kolt snarled back. “You’re scared of what I might do given the choice. What a fucking piece of work you are,” the incubus added hotly.
“Do you really think our bosses are going to want to let you walk out of here with Ackerman? That Leandro’s lawyers won’t jump all over that? You don’t know how much we’re risking here.” This time, it was Emma’s voice that was hostile. “Or have you spent so much time with the fae that you don’t care about anyone but yourself?”
“Emma,” Bryce said sharply. She was getting out of line.
“Fine, if it’s such fucking trouble,” Kolt retorted. “Lock me up then. See how well that fucking goes for everyone.”
“Okay!” Bryce said, cutting in between both of them. “That’s enough. How about we all calm down, yeah?”
Emma shot a foul look at him, and only years of acting unfazed in the face of hardened criminal kept him from stepping back under the weight of it. “I’ll go start the paperwork,” she snapped, stalking toward the door.
“Thank you, Emma. I appreciate your effort,” he said candidly, nodding at her as she departed. He felt the vague burn of irony that she would tell him he was too close to this.
Percy looked awkward, like a child caught in a fight between parents, and he drew in a breach once Emma was gone. “I eh… I was just going to grab a bandage for his wrist. It’s just unsanitary like—”
“Sure. Go,” Bryce said with a nod, exhaling deeply, watching Percy flee the scene like a kicked puppy.
“She’s a bitch,” Kolt said defensively.
“She doesn’t get out from behind her desk enough,” Bryce answered with a half shrug.
“I can’t stay in this room,” Kolt reminded him.
Bryce nodded. “Yes, okay. I’ll fix it, okay? I promise, but I want you to think about what we talked about. You don’t have to answer today, or even tomorrow.” He’d lie and stall until Kolt had made the right decision if he had to. “But I want you to really think about your loyalty to Leandro.”
Kolt rolled his eyes and said nothing.
“Just think about it,” he tried again, receiving the world’s shortest nod in reply. “And you’re sleeping on the fucking couch, just so you know.”
Chapter Thirty-One
Kolt had gotten well acquainted with Bryce Ackerman’s apartment. It helped that the first night there — with his bed made on the couch — he hadn’t been tired in the slightest. He’d still been humming with energy, able to feel the fucking neighbors on all sides, even two houses down. It was almost overwhelming if he stopped to listen to it all. He felt like he might destroy everything by just looking at it or thinking about it.
So he hadn’t thought about much of anything. He’d opened every cupboard, gone through the anemic bookcase, read the magazines, checked the fridge about a million times, and tried to guess the password of the computer, without success.
He’d even tried to lure a neighbor’s cat in through the open window — also without success. He’d gone through the detective’s wardrobe with the man sleeping right there next to it. Kolt had picked himself out a pair of boxers and a t-shirt so he could finally bin the clothes he’d taken from Nero’s. It had felt all wrong to be wearing them, all of a sudden, perhaps because he was getting his sanity back, little by little.
Days were more boring. He was expected to go back into the Organization building with Ackerman, and because he had to give up something to keep himself out of trouble, he’d agreed to let Tobias and Percy study him.
Presented with the opportunity, Tobias had pulled a few favors, and Kolt was suddenly stuck in the lab from fucking 9 to 5 while Ackerman worked his caseload.
It apparently wasn’t very big, because no one trusted Ackerman. He was gleaning bits and pieces of information here and there. Bryce was talkative when he was awake and didn’t even care if Kolt didn’t talk back much. It suited Kolt just fine. He was never much of a talker anyway.
The abundance of energy hadn’t lasted long. Eventually he did get tired as the hyper-awareness tempered. He no longer felt like he might commit murder by touching someone. He no longer brimmed with power and energy, but ironically, the restlessness only got worse. He couldn’t sleep, the couch wasn’t comfortable, and he felt cold, even if he wasn’t.
He was lonely during the day when he was just a fucking guinea pig to Tobias and Percy. They got so caught up in their tests and theories that they often forgot he was there, living and breathing, hearing them and feeling them.
He was even lonelier at night, when the lights went out and Bryce went to sleep. Without a warm body at his back, it felt impossible to even close his eyes, which just felt like insult to injury. He had never thought he would miss Leandro, and every time the fae crossed his mind, those words haunted him.
Would Leandro still know when he was thinking about him? Did he feel it every time Kolt got lonely and wished for someone to touch him like he was worth something?
The lab rats began asking him difficult questions about his poor sleep pattern and how it was slowly wearing him down. He really didn’t want to talk about it with anyone, so he had to fix the insomnia somehow.
On the fourth night, he’d flicked the bedroom light on somewhere around four in the morning and just flat out asked if he could sleep in the bed. He’d insisted the couch gave him a backache — as if he was that fragile — and he hadn’t really gotten much argument. Possibly because it was four a.m. and Bryce was barely able to form complete sentences.
It was the first decent night of sleep he’d gotten since he’d left the Lucky Blight. Decent, not great, because he’d had to awkwardly try his best not to grab a hold of the human and use him as a body pillow like he did with Leandro. Moreover, it was still just hard to catch sleep without the fae holding on to him, running his fingers through his hair, pressing his hips against his back before—
“Bryce?” Kolt asked cautiously into the quiet of the night to keep his mind the fuck away from thinking about sex, and feeding, and Leandro. “You awake?” he added for good measure, as he rolled from his side onto his back.
“Hmm… no,” Bryce answered sleepily.
“Why’re you single?” he asked, undeterred, and desperate to have a conversation. Hopefully something pathetic and off-putting at that so his slut-mind wouldn’t go drifting in dangerous directions, and he could just go to sleep like he wasn’t an incubus.
“What?” the detective asked blearily. “What kind of question is that?”
“I mean,” Kolt continued, unabashed, “I know there’s nothing physically wrong with you, you’re sorta nice, and you’re not hideous. You have a killer sense of humor, and you’re brave to the point of idiocy,” he listed off as if it was a grocery list.
If Bryce hadn’t been awake yet, he certainly was now. Kolt could hear and feel the man move beside him to look at him in the dark.
“I’m not sure if that’s supposed to make me feel better or worse,” Bryce said, deadpan. “Not hideous isn’t really a compliment, you know.” The man reached for the light switch and flicked it on.
“I’ve been around fae most of my life. They’re beyond beautiful… Not hideous is a huge compliment for a human,” Kolt mused, turning slightly and folding his arm up under his cheek as he offered Bryce a winning smile.
“None of this is fair, you know. You’re a shapeshifter, the fae are gorgeous. Everyone has something,” he muttered, not charmed by the smile yet. “I’m… not hideous, and should be glad, apparently.”
“I also said some other nice things about you, but if appearance is all you care about, you should be glad I’m a shapechanger. I’ll never disa
ppoint,” Kolt mused.
“What? No. I didn’t mean to— I mean, I’m not even that heroic,” Bryce said.
“I said brave, not heroic.”
“It’s basically the same thing!” Bryce huffed.
Kolt chuckled, turning onto his back again and staring up at the ceiling. “So, why are you?” he repeated.
“I… don’t prioritize well, I guess. And I work too much. Which is why I’m going crazy working one case a week, under supervision from the goon squad,” Bryce admitted with a sigh. “And you get used to being alone. It’s not that bad, really. No one stealing your clothes, or eating your cereal, or waking you up in the middle of the night to ask you questions that make you question your existence.”
Kolt’s lips twitched into a smile, before he guffawed and laughed. “Sorry,” he said, but without remorse.
“I like that,” Bryce said after a moment.
“What?” Kolt humored him.
“You, laughing. You don’t do it enough, you know. All your snark and wit aside, it’s obvious you’ve been unhappy for a long time.”
Kolt swallowed hard and wished very hard for the light to be off still, so the detective wouldn’t have a chance at seeing the way his expression fell, and the humor faded from his eyes. “Not that long,” he said quietly. “Leandro was always an ass, but not like this. Never like this, he’s— It’s all the power he has now. He’s changed.” Kolt tried to ignore the sting of tears in his eyes. “He used to protect me, and care for me. He’d teach me stuff,” he recalled, but he continued quickly, too quickly, “Now I’m just supposed to shut up, look pretty, and—”
“Hey, hey, I’m sorry,” Bryce interrupted him, putting a hand on his arm.
He didn’t yank it away. Not this time. He was crying though, tears rolling down his face, and he wiped at them viciously.
“I didn’t mean to bring it up like that. I just like the sound of your laugh. I obviously didn’t mean to make you cry,” Bryce assured, giving his shoulder an awkward rub.
Kolt laughed, though this time it was bittersweet as he rubbed the tears from his eyes. “Sorry, I didn’t— It’s just hard. I was with him for so long,” he explained, offering the detective a fleeting smile. Involuntarily, he brought his own hand up to cover Bryce’s. He was warm to the touch, and Kolt could feel his sympathy…
He didn’t want it, not really. His fingers slipped between the detective’s, and he bit down on his bottom lip as he glanced up at the man.
“You know you do that when you’re confused or unsure? You’re easy to read,” Bryce said with a smirk. “So what’s on your mind?” he asked, rubbing his thumb along Kolt’s knuckles.
“I might’ve lied, a little, to Emma, and Percy and— you know.”
“The Organization, yeah… what about?” Bryce prompted him to go on.
“Technically incubi can live off of other emotions, and it— We can. Sort of. In a perfect world, maybe, but— it’s hard to get enough out of just normal emotion, and bad emotions. They… drain more energy than they provide, so it’s—” Kolt began, trying to explain it properly.
“You’re hungry,” Bryce concluded, quicker than Kolt had anticipated.
He nodded. “Not a lot, but I’m starting to feel it.”
“After eating all my fucking cereal, too,” Bryce muttered, pushing himself up to an elbow but not releasing his hand. “Okay, so what do I do?” he asked. “Jack off?” he offered with a smirk.
Kolt stared at Bryce for a long moment, before he laughed awkwardly. “Ehm… I guess, yeah. If … if you want,” he answered, with a mild stammer. He hadn’t expected the solution, much less the offer, and he was a little dumbfounded.
Bryce was quiet for a moment before drawing in a breath and holding it. “Yeah,” he said with an exhale. “I guess I can wank. You know. For the greater good. Take one for the team.”
Kolt snorted another laugh. “You’re not saving the world with it,” he said, bemused.
“Kinda,” Bryce muttered.
Kolt elected not to chase that line of thinking. He knew where it was headed anyway: murder sprees.
“Okay, I’ll just—” Bryce said, and there was a lot of movement on the other side of the bed all of a sudden. “—get started then, I guess.”
Kolt wet his lips, trying to decide whether this was good, bad, or just marginally insane. Perhaps it was a solution, but it just felt weird. “Okay,” he said after a moment too long. He glanced at Bryce, who seemed to have a little difficulty finding his dick. He wanted to say something but didn’t, instead looking back up at the ceiling, like a good Christian wife.
He was keenly aware of Bryce’s breathing. Too keenly, and he realized he could hear everything — the rustle of the sheets, the movement of underwear under it. “You want like, lotion, or something?” Kolt suggested, bringing the whole thing to a grinding halt all of a sudden.
“Ehm— I… There might be some in the drawer on your side,” Bryce said.
Kolt knew as much from snooping around, just as he had figured the detective didn’t particularly want to ask the incubus in bed with him for his wank-lotion. Without delay, he reached into the drawer, grabbing the bottle and handing it to Ackerman, who awkwardly took it.
“This is gonna be weird as fuck,” Kolt finally said. “I mean, me just sitting here like a creep while you jack off secretly, like I’m a nun, and you’re—”
“A filthy priest?” Bryce cut in, with a pointed look.
“Yeah. I mean, it’s just sex. I could just—” He hesitated. “I could just do it for you,” he said with half a shrug, drawing in another breath and looking expectantly at the detective.
“We shouldn’t. Really,” Bryce answered, but his words lacked conviction.
“I shouldn’t be sleeping in your bed either. They’re already going to think the worst if they catch us,” Kolt pointed out, raising his eyebrows at the detective. “Not like we didn’t fuck before.”
“That was different,” the human said, pushing himself up to a sitting position. “Don’t get me wrong. It’s not that you’re not… attractive or something.”
“I’m an incubus,” Kolt replied, deadpan. “I haven’t been unattractive in my entire life. I’m not some chick you’re breaking up with,” he said. “And I promise you, I’ll get it up.” He cast a pointed look at Bryce’s crotch.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, I know you can, but—”
“But what?” Kolt insisted, cutting him off and giving him a daring look. “Your boss? Emma? Time of the month?” he wondered, not sure there was an answer Bryce could give that would actually be a valid reason not to just fuck instead of awkwardly jack himself off while Kolt listened and fed.
“But I might actually get too close to this, because you’re not just some fuck, okay?” Bryce snapped a little irritably.
Kolt shut up immediately, looking at him in surprise. He studied the detective, who pointedly avoided looking at him then, and simply continued to talk as if he hadn’t just made some sort of declaration.
“And we’d have to be discreet as hell. No one could know about it,” Bryce continued, but Kolt wasn’t even really listening anymore.
Sitting up, he quickly shifted closer to the detective and pressed a kiss against his lips. It was hard at first in order to shut him up, but he softened it when those lips parted. Kolt’s hand slid up the side of the man’s neck, his fingers carting through the short hair at the back of Bryce’s neck. He deepened the kiss, eliciting a soft sound from Bryce.
“Kolt,” Bryce muttered again his lips. “You sure you want this?”
Kolt nodded. “Our secret,” he promised as he slid a long leg over Bryce’s hips, settling himself in the man’s lap.
“You know you don’t have to. We can find some other way,” Bryce said, though the man’s hands seemed to have a mind of their own. They settled on Kolt’s hips at first, but they quickly rode up under his shirt. His fingers were warm, a little rough, but the caress was as gentle as anything.
Kolt’s skin tingled under the touch. “I’ve wanted this since the first time we fucked, Bryce,” he said quietly, rocking his hips against Bryce, pressing against the semi the detective was already sporting in his boxers.
The man groaned softly, dropping his head back against the headboard and looking up at him.
“And now I’m not a slave anymore, right? I can do what I want,” Kolt murmured, dipping his head down and capturing the man’s lips once more. Bryce kissed him back more actively then, and Kolt realized he really did want this. Something sane, something normal, something boring. No games, no bullshit, no rules, just the two of them getting physical.
Bryce shuffled and shifted while they kissed, wiggling his boxers down his legs.
Kolt looked down at the man’s cock, wetting his lips and smirking at how hard it already was.
“Shut up,” Bryce muttered. “I don’t get laid enough.” One arm slid around Kolt’s waist, the other pushing his shirt up so his chest was accessible.
Kolt chuckled again, carting his fingers through Bryce’s hair. “I bet I can fix that,” he promised, while Bryce interrupted the slow row of kisses along Kolt’s chest to smirk against his skin.
“Not with these in the way, you can’t,” Bryce complained, tugging at the fabric of his undies.
Kolt rose up on his knees, allowing Bryce to pull them down as far as they would go before wriggling first one leg out, then letting the underwear slide down his other leg and onto the floor in a practiced motion.
Not that Bryce could appreciate the effortlessness of it, much too focused on squirting lotion into the palm of his hand and using it to rub their cocks together. Kolt sucked in a breath and rocked his hips up. The glide of his dick past Bryce’s harder one was surprisingly more pleasurable than he had imagined, and his own cock hardened quickly.
He kissed Bryce again, letting the man stroke both cocks until they were equally erect. They were practically the same size, Kolt’s a little thinner than Bryce’s. The detective was panting already. He was human, Kolt reminded himself with a smirk as he nipped at the man’s bottom lip.