by P. W. Davies
Christian barely recovered before choking on his beer. Does he know? “Well, I’ve had ill-conceived perceptions, but this seems to be more specific,” he managed before needing to pause. His nose tingled with what little had tried to travel through his sinuses. “Begging your pardon,” he said. “You sound as though you’re referring to somebody specific.”
“I am. And I’m wondering if I should even be talking about this with you.”
“As opposed to whom?”
Victor groaned. “I don’t know. I have no idea what to do right now and I’m sorry if I’m talking nonsense. It’s because I’m frustrated.”
He turned to face Christian more deliberately. The meat sizzled on the still-cooling pan. Christian heard the sink drip, the refrigerator hum, and his own heart pounding in his chest while remaining confused by the lack of anger. Of accusations and yelling and threats hurtled at Christian. No, he doesn’t know yet. Don’t be an idiot. He wouldn’t be talking about this. He wouldn’t be so composed with you if he knew.
“Go on ahead and get it off your chest, love,” Christian said. “You’ll feel better about it afterward.”
“Maybe. You’re probably right about that.” The corner of Victor’s lips surrendered a smile. “Sit at the table. I’ll finish preparing our meal and pour myself that glass of wine. I’m going to need it to get through talking about this.”
“As you wish, kind sir.” Christian stood, careful to do so in a fluid motion, and walked to the dining room table with his beer in hand. The new tone in Victor’s voice confirmed that whatever he intended to say, he didn’t know yet, although Christian had to wonder if the mark had compromised himself at work. While the mystery lingered, Christian drank down more of his beer, and though the much more casual way Victor began to behave set his mind at ease, he still didn’t trust it. Another shoe was poised to drop at any moment, and nobody knew that feeling better than Christian.
“It’s been the last couple of weeks at work,” Victor began, placing a perfectly done-up burger with sautéed mushrooms on top and what looked to be homemade chips in front of Christian. While Christian greedily ate one of the fried potatoes, Victor sat with his own plate of food, and continued to explain the odd behavior of his co-workers, focused at first on Samuel, but rounding out his story focused on the junior partner, Nathan Mortimer. Christian had half his meal consumed, and the beer depleted by the time Victor finished.
“I admired him,” Victor said. “Even thought I might be interested enough in him to date him. That was what led me to ask you out for drinks that first evening.” He looked up at Christian, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I thought I could practice working up my nerve.”
Christian chuckled, standing to fetch another beer from the refrigerator and pausing his commentary until he had the cap twisted from this one as well. “Can hardly argue with the outcome. Being somebody’s sexual Sherpa is a new experience for me,” he said. Taking a long drink from the bottle, he returned to the table and set it down. Victor took a bite of his burger and chewed it, with Christian watching him as if transfixed.
Victor tilted his head. Christian rested his elbow on the table, his chin lowering into his palm. “You asked me out because you felt nervous about your inexperience?” Christian finally asked.
“More or less.” Victor wiped at his mouth with his napkin, giving Christian a look. “I hope you aren’t judging me for that. You benefited from it.”
Sitting upright again, Christian lifted both hands in surrender. “No, never any judgment. You handled your first time slightly better than I did mine, I’m more amused than anything else.” His arms lowered, but Christian opted to rest against the back of his chair this time. Something afflicted him; something soft and laden with affection. “I hope I’ve been a good teacher.”
Victor chuckled. “You’ve been an excellent teacher.” He slid a hand closer to Christian and as he did, Christian reached out to touch him. The two men looked at each other in silence for several moments. “I think, all things considered, I ended up with the better choice.”
The comment wounded Christian, though he held back a wince and shook his head. “No, please, don’t say that. I’m hardly the more stable option.”
“You’re at least not the one sabotaging a case at work.”
“No, I’m not.” Guilt festered in Christian’s chest. He felt the words dance on the tip of his tongue. No, they said, but I’m the one with a contract to kill one of your mates. Guilt prompted the next question he asked. “You truly think it’s Nathan who’s giving your client the run-around?”
“A few things lead me to believe that.” He furrowed his brow, sobering slightly. “Why?”
Christian frowned, but the look in Victor’s eyes unraveled him, shifting the confession he wanted to blurt out into something more benign; something that would fall apart the more Victor scrutinized it, but it had to be said. Something had to be said at last. “Victor, the man who’s at fault isn’t Nathan Mortimer. It’s Samuel Drake.”
Victor blinked, and as Christian held his expression steady, the slow acceptance of his statement as fact played out in the way Victor reacted. He took back his hand, but Christian sensed a lack of anger in the way Victor retreated from him. Instead, he squinted, seeming to be lost in thought for a moment, and lifted his wine glass to drink down what remained of its contents. “It’s Samuel,” Victor said. “Are you sure you should be telling me that?”
He couldn’t help but to laugh. “No,” Christian said. “I’m almost certain I shouldn’t be, but it breaks my heart, the thought of you losing faith in your crush.” Picking up the beer bottle, he took another drink. “Much as eliminating the competition might be more in my best interest.”
When Christian winked, Victor smirked, and as little as he expected Victor to stand and bend to kiss him on the lips, when it happened, Christian melted into it. Containing the right amount of heat, it left him mute and stunned, his nose touching Victor’s and mouth still open and accepting even after the kiss had ended. “Well, now,” Christian whispered. “Perhaps eliminating the competition isn’t necessary.”
“Finish dinner,” Victor said. “We’ll watch a movie and I’ll forgive us if we get distracted.”
“As the lord of the manor requests.” He watched the entirety of Victor’s retreat, keeping his gaze fixed on Victor while the lawyer hummed and sat in front of his dinner again, pretending not to know about the surge of blood he had just sent racing to Christian’s crotch. Christian waited for the additional questions. How did he know? What was he doing? When it didn’t happen, Christian sighed with relief and continued eating. He helped Victor clean up the plates and scooped out ice cream for dessert.
They retreated into the living room, bowls in hand, and questions still left unasked.
Instead of the heated argument, or tearful confession Christian had braced himself for, what greeted him on the other side instead was a pleasant night spent feeding Victor half the bowl of his ice cream. He smirked when he deliberately smudged some onto Victor’s nose, making a show of licking it off with the tip of his tongue and smiling deviously at Victor while retreating onto the seat. The way Victor eyed him afterward made Christian’s body tingle, the heat in the lawyer’s gaze hinting that the game had been decided upon. Rather than fight it, Christian set aside his bowl and waited.
Before he knew it, he had been shoved onto his back. Lips crashed into his, hot and heavy, a tongue darting into his mouth while hands felt up his chest, greedily claiming purchase. Christian reveled in it. He popped off two of Victor’s shirt buttons and hastily undid the rest, lifting off his back only to remove his t-shirt and slide out of his jeans. When Victor had him naked, he immediately kissed downward and took Christian’s cock in his mouth.
Christian jerked with the first sensation, then moaned while he relaxed.
What followed bordered on manic. The push toward an imminent climax. Victor withdrawing and standing, yanking Christian to his feet and pulling h
im into the bedroom before shoving Christian again. When Christian landed on the mattress, he bounced, wild laughter spilling past his lips, and with the sensation of Victor plunging his lube-coated fingers into Christian, that laugh became another moan. He wanted Victor to fuck him; no, he wanted to feel Victor inside of him. He wanted to lose himself again and never be found.
Eyes clenched shut, Christian bent his knees and allowed Victor’s fingers deeper into him. “You,” he managed. “Please, Victor you.” He only repeated the request once before Victor reclaimed his hand.
As Victor crawled on top of him, however, his eyes opened. His heels dug into Victor’s backside while Victor slid inside of him and when their eyes met, Christian felt his lover ask for something and gave it to him, not questioning it beyond that moment. They stared at each other as if on a dare, Christian clinging onto him, his face contorting while he tried to hold back an orgasm and the struggle only hastening the need to spill over the edge. When he came, Christian arched his back and lost the ability to focus.
It took a kiss before he recognized what had happened, and how beautiful and terrible it had been.
The kiss contained warmth, delivered with something far more dangerous than passion. While their lips touched, their souls felt connected, and looking at Victor again made Christian light-headed and afraid. The moment demanded recognition, but Christian had been left mute; stunned by the beating of his own heart. Why, he wanted to ask. Why this? Why him?
Why now?
“Who the bloody hell are you?” he asked.
Victor grinned, touching foreheads with him. “I believe I’m the one who made you come just now.”
Christian laughed, his voice almost sounding distant and disconnected to him. “Try not to gloat, it doesn’t suit you well.”
“If you say so,” Victor said, another kiss ending the discussion, this one less intense but no less damning. After pulling away and helping Christian to clean up, Victor nestled beside him, breathing an idle mention of taking Christian to the symphony. “You would look stunning in a suit.”
“Not half as breathtaking as you do.” Christian felt his fingers tracing patterns in Victor’s skin. While his lips asked, “Would that make you happy?’ his thoughts sank into the hole of guilt he had been digging. Victor said yes, and Christian heard himself agreeing to make it a date. But as Victor drifted off to sleep, Christian stared into the darkness and frowned at the wall across from him.
I don’t know that you’d want to take me to the symphony if you knew what I was, he thought. I don’t know that you’d nearly be as content as you are now. Christian turned to face Victor, hearing the light snoring sounds he made and frowned while burrowing himself against his lover. Tomorrow, he resolved to himself. They could wake up together and Christian could finally come clean about what he did for a living. That resolution broke the barrier preventing him from drifting off. Within moments, he fell asleep.
Waking in the morning brought a renewal of the pledge. While he and Victor showered, Christian lavished on the other man, touching noses with him after a long and heated kiss. “Can we talk once we’ve eaten?” he asked. “There are a few things I’ve wanted to tell you.”
“If you’ll let me make you breakfast,” Victor said.
“You’ll spoil me if you keep cooking for me. Not that I object.”
Victor grinned into their next kiss and coaxed them into touches which prolonged the duration of their time under the water. Within a half-hour, Christian had dressed again, and sat at the counter drinking coffee while watching Victor cook. It was as he’d taken a deep breath and dedicated himself toward beginning their chat that the sound of buzzing preempted his opening comments.
Flipping eggs first, Victor turned at the sound and furrowed his brow at the phone. When he picked it up, he looked at the screen and then hastily took the call, careful to turn off the lit burners and scrape the eggs onto a plate. “Yes, hello,” Victor said, winking at Christian on his way into the other room. Christian felt his stomach sink, and tried not to eavesdrop, though when Victor said, “I’ll be right there,” he tuned into the discussion in time to watch Victor hang up.
Victor frowned at him from where he stood in the living room. “I need to go into the office quickly,” he said. “You can eat those eggs. Just save me some bacon. I’ll eat when I return.”
What about our talk, Christian wanted to ask, but he nodded and accepted the kiss that Victor offered him. “I’ll give you the entire rest of the day after that,” Victor said as if he could read minds. “We’ll talk about whatever you wanted to discuss then.”
“Okay,” Christian said, managing a smile for Victor’s benefit. His gaze lingered on him for as long as it could – throughout the duration of Victor slipping on his shoes and reaching for his coat. When the door swung shut, Christian fought the urge to frown. He had no idea what might have called Victor away, but something told him he might have squandered his last chance.
Nineteen
Victor didn’t know what to expect from Nathan. The man had been acting strangely all week. Work had been stressful, certainly, but Victor’s ego still stung at being told in no uncertain terms that Nathan wasn’t happy with some of his actions.
It left them at what would have been an impasse, if it hadn’t been for one thing
Nathan invited Victor to his home. Considering how private Nathan was, this was no small thing. Victor only could interpret it as meaningful. It just wasn’t entirely clear what meaning he should attach.
In a quiet area of the city, Nathan owned a walk-up. It took once glance for Victor to be certain that the entire building was his, even if the row of houses was not. Flanked on both sides by similarly reconstructed homes, Nathan’s place of residence was modern in an old neighborhood. Victor wasn’t entirely surprised. It seemed very Nathan the longer he considered it. What did surprise him, though, was when the other man answered the door in sweatpants and a light t-shirt.
He hadn’t dressed in a full suit for today’s meeting, but Victor was still work-casual. Slacks, a button-down shirt and a tie. Nathan looked amused, although that was only the third thing Victor noticed.
Nathan looked exhausted, like he hadn’t slept more than a few hours in the last week. Victor was surprised at how ragged his boss appeared to be and began rethinking what the meeting could be about. “Come in, please. I didn’t mean to leave you standing on the stoop.” Nathan stepped back into the house, so Victor could get through the door.
He tried no to appear overly curious, but Victor let his gaze wander over the sight in front of him. A set of stairs led upwards, clearly to the living portions of the house. Beside the stairs was a living room, replete with a television and couch that looked as though it had just come out of a box. There were modest decorative pieces around, but what caught Victor’s eye was the sight of a collection of playbills.
Making note to himself that Nathan liked the theater, he smiled in greeting. “I should thank you for inviting me over. Your home is cozy.”
For a moment he wondered if he’d chosen the wrong word, but Nathan straightened, his smile tired but genuine. Nodding he glanced around them as he shut the front door. “I’ve been here for three years. Every time I come through the door, I know it was money well spent.”
Victor chuckled. “There is something about having your own space at the end of the day.”
“That there is.” Nathan sobered, but didn’t entirely lose the brightness that had settled on him with Victor’s arrival. “Come in and sit. As much as I wish we were here just to discuss what we work for, we need to talk about work.”
Victor followed Nathan further into the house. He paused beside a table and chairs in what was obviously a dining room after Nathan gestured toward them saying, “Sit. Can I get you something to drink?”
“Just water. Or coffee, if you wouldn’t mind.” Victor pulled out a chair and settled in. “I don’t mind making it myself either.”
From the kitchen, Vic
tor heard, “Nonsense. I just brewed a pot an hour ago. Is that...?” Nathan trailed off with the obvious question.
“That’s perfect, thank you.”
Nathan carried out two cups on a tray, along with creamer and sugar. It was a very domestic set up and Victor was busy making more mental notes about Nathan’s habits outside of work.
The thought of Christian stopped him cold. He paused and considered. It didn’t stop him from taking his first sip of coffee after doctoring it the way he liked. “Thank you,” he repeated, lifting his eyes to Nathan now that they were both satisfied with their drinks. “I can safely say, I wouldn’t’ have expected this after our talk the other day.”
Nathan grimaced, and Victor knew it wasn’t from the coffee. It made him raise an eyebrow. “I shouldn’t have berated you like that. Afterward, I thought it best simply to not discuss it again. Until I could tell you what had put me in the position to discourage you from doing your job.”
“You had sound enough reasons –” Victor started to say, but Nathan waved him to silence.
“No. I recited sound reasons so that you would drop it. You and I both know there is more than one way to skin a cat, and that your method was entirely valid considering what we’re up against.” Nathan’s eyes locked onto his. “Which is why you’re here. I need to tell you what you don’t know we’re up against.”
“Time.” Victor said, with no small measure of confidence. “But why that matters so much, I don’t know.”
The junior partner smiled. “You always have been dangerously sharp.” He nodded and appeared to brace himself for the next words he needed to say. “Samuel is under investigation and I’ve been tasked to not get in the way.”
Victor was stunned. “Meaning, law-enforcement...?”
“Yes. I was approached about a week ago. Apparently, they were concerned –”
“That they might need to investigate you.”
It was Nathan’s turn to look surprised. Victor continued, “Evie and I have been digging through all the signatory papers for the acquisition. Your name was signed on more than one that ultimately dragged the negotiation process out longer. Requests for accounts that we had no business requesting. Inquiries about property holdings in other states. It was quite the collection.”