by Sam Burns
Grabbing Conner and spinning him until his back was against the side of his shiny car, Fletcher pressed their lips together. When Conner opened to him, Fletcher took it as an invitation and leaned into the kiss, greedy and demanding. He ran his hands down Conner’s back and squeezed his ass, pulling them together at the groin.
When he finally pulled away, Conner leaned into him, eyes half-lidded and pupils blown wide. “Huh,” he said, and his eyes fluttered open the rest of the way. “Your place now?”
“My place now,” Fletcher agreed. “Get in the car.”
Conner didn’t seem inclined to worry about the speed limit on the way back into town. When Fletcher looked at the speedometer and raised an eyebrow at him, he bit his lip and gave a boyish smile. “Pretty much all the cops in town are back there, aren’t they?”
“You mean except for the one sitting next to you?” Fletcher asked, trying to affect Wade’s lazy, small-town-cop drawl.
Conner’s gaze slid to Fletcher’s lips and back up to meet his eyes again, and he took a deep breath. “You gonna arrest me, Officer? ’Cause I ran a couple stop signs on the way here too. Must have been going, like, thirty over the speed limit.”
Fletcher melted a little at that. “How did you find me? They were surprised when you showed up.”
“I tracked Frank’s phone. I don’t know how your partner found me, but I was sitting down on the docks, and he just showed up and demanded I help. So I traced Frank. It’s kind of what I do: computers.” He looked conflicted. His lips turned up a little, like he was proud of his abilities, but he was still bothered.
Could Fletcher blame him? He’d been put in an unenviable position, and he’d had to side with people he hardly knew over friends of his father. “I’m sorry you had to do that. I was afraid you’d think I lied to you.”
Conner shook his head, and his shoulders slumped. “There are things you didn’t tell me, but you’re the only one who even tried to tell me the truth. I was still struggling to believe it, you know? I didn’t want them to be the bad guys. But there you were, tied to that thing, and they just dismissed it. They didn’t know you. They knew nothing. But they didn’t care that guy was going to kill you.”
“He was paying them. I don’t know how much, but it must have been impressive to convince Bob.” He sighed and leaned across the console, putting his head on Conner’s shoulder. “I thought for a minute—it doesn’t matter. I’m just glad you weren’t with them on this. That you didn’t help them kill me.”
He was still speeding, and Fletcher should have worried about it, but when Conner pulled one hand away from the wheel and wrapped an arm around him, he snuggled further in. “There was no way that was going to happen. They were wrong. About all of you. The second Wade found out something was wrong, all he cared about was getting you back. They didn’t care about anything but your safety.”
“And leaving me alone with Hector?” Fletcher asked, shuddering at the memory.
“The idea was to get as many of them away from you as possible before interrupting the mage. But he was so damned fast, I almost didn’t make it back. Hell, I didn’t. You got out yourself.” His tone was something between apologetic and impressed, and he squeezed Fletcher’s shoulder. “I’ve never seen anything so cool. You just turned into an owl.”
The giddy rush of emotions from the moment when he’d realized he was an owl returned. “I did. I guess I have Aldric to thank for that. He’s—he was the book. He was a witch who was trapped in the book. Without him, I never would have gotten Oak’s help. I think he sacrificed himself to keep Hector from getting his abilities.” Unexpected tears stung his eyes. He’d hated having Aldric in him, muttering in Gothic and being generally menacing, but he couldn’t bring himself to hold a grudge. Fletcher had escaped Hector himself, but Aldric had done something too. He’d left. Sacrificed himself.
Something occurred to him. The way Conner had seemed winded when Fletcher hit him inside the cabin. “You don’t hear someone whispering in German, do you?”
“Um, no? Should I?”
Fletcher shook his head. “Just thought for a minute that maybe—you know what? Never mind.”
They pulled into the same parking space as the night Conner had been drunk. Conner looked down at him. “You okay? You don’t have to invite me in, or—”
“Shut up and get into my apartment. Or I will arrest you.”
“For anything in particular, or just in general?” Conner asked. Then he leaned down and brushed his lips against Fletcher’s. “But okay. You’re the boss.”
Fletcher climbed out of the car and headed for his front door, trusting Conner to follow behind. He didn’t have a moment of doubt about letting the man behind him anymore. If Conner had wanted him dead, he would be dead. Instead, Conner was the reason he had escaped. He doubted he’d have made it out if Conner hadn’t gotten Frank and Bob out of the cabin.
He opened the door to his apartment and ushered the other man inside, then he closed and locked it behind them. His gaze was on Conner’s ass as he wandered into the apartment. It was a very nice ass. Round and firm, definitely not from time on the computer. “You said you work on computers?”
Conner turned back to him, nodded. “Computer security systems. Why?”
“Just thinking that ass didn’t happen at a desk.”
A slow smile stretched across Conner’s face. He turned his back to Fletcher again. “This ass? Did you want a better look?”
Fletcher didn’t answer, he came up behind him and pressed him into the closest wall.
Conner caught himself with his hands and turned his head to look Fletcher in the eye. “Should I take that as a yes?”
“Are you offering?” Fletcher whispered in his ear. “Because if you are, I’ll be taking you up on it.”
With a groan, Conner pressed his ass back until it met Fletcher’s groin. “Please tell me you have condoms. I didn’t have a reason to bring any with me.”
“Shit,” Fletcher muttered. “Yes, but maybe not.”
“Huh?”
Fletcher buried his face in the crook of Conner’s neck and mumbled. “They might have expired by now.”
Conner burst into laughter. “You’d better go find out. Because I’m going to go find your bed and possibly strip naked. I hope that’s cool.” He shoved back into Fletcher until he was away from the wall, spun around, and captured Fletcher’s lips in a bruising kiss. “Don’t make me wait too long.”
Fletcher bounded into the bathroom, rummaging through the space under the sink before coming up, triumphant, with the box he was looking for. He tore out a strip of condoms and searched madly for an expiration date. It was still six months off. Yes!
Back in the bedroom, he found Conner, stripped down to nothing but a very small set of black briefs. He offered a shy smile. “Hope it doesn’t disappoint when you get a better look.”
Without hesitation, Fletcher wrapped his arms around Conner. “Everything about you has been a pleasant surprise.”
“That’s because the bar was literally on the floor when we started. Now we’re getting into real challenges.” He leaned in and kissed Fletcher as he spoke, little close-mouthed kisses all along his cheeks, then finally resting softly on his lips. “Top or bottom?”
“Yes please. I mean, um, top first? I’ve got like ten condoms. I think that covers anything we want till tomorrow.”
Conner wrapped his arms around Fletcher’s waist and picked him up, proving his ass wasn’t the only thing that had benefited from his time at the gym. He moved slowly, almost in a dance step, and led them over to the bed, finally sitting down and pulling Fletcher into his lap. “Sounds like my idea of a good night. Got lube?”
“That, you don’t have to worry about.” Fletcher motioned to the nightstand.
It was only after Conner had leaned over to open the drawer that Fletcher remembered— Conner turned to him with a raised eyebrow. “Geez, now I’m really worried you’re going to be disappointed. Your friend
here is pretty impressive.”
He blushed bright red as Conner pulled out the bottle of lube, and Fletcher’s dildo. It was an impressive specimen. A full nine inches of glittery purple silicone, it was much bigger than any man Fletcher had ever seen in the flesh. “It was a gag gift from one of the guys at the station. I don’t think he expected me to use it.”
Conner waggled his eyebrows. “But you do.”
“Wouldn’t you?”
With a grin, Conner dropped it back in the drawer but kept the lube. He stood, and with a minimum amount of effort, flipped them so that Fletcher was lying on the bed, and Conner was above him. Then he reached for Fletcher’s zipper. “You don’t mind topping from under me, do you? I haven’t done this in a while.”
“Whatever you want,” Fletcher said, his voice barely more than a breath. “You don’t have to—”
“I meant sex, not just bottoming. It’s been a while. I work a lot, and it rarely leaves me time to meet guys.” Quick and efficient, Conner yanked Fletcher’s pants down his legs and tossed them away to join his clothes on the floor. Then he climbed back onto Fletcher’s lap, cracked the lube open and reached back to prep himself. “I guess technically I was busy when I met you. I”—he took in a hissed breath and paused for a moment before speaking again—“never met anyone I was willing to let myself get distracted over before.”
Running his hands up and down Conner’s thighs, Fletcher had to bury the urge to pull the man down for a kiss. He didn’t want to distract him, but gods, he wanted to be closer to him.
Conner’s eyes flickered back open, and he smiled down at Fletcher. “Condom?” he asked breathlessly.
Fletcher didn’t need to be asked twice. He pulled a square off the strip he’d pulled from the box and ripped it open. It had been a while, so he took a minute to make sure he put it on right. It wouldn’t do to waste it.
Conner watched avidly, and he batted Fletcher’s hand away as soon as he finished. He moved forward a few inches, reached back to hold Fletcher’s cock in place, and slowly slid down onto it. He squeezed his eyes shut, his breath coming in short pants, his mouth slack.
It had been so long since Fletcher had been inside another person. Maybe it had always been like this and he was out of practice, or maybe it was the stress of the night amplifying everything, but it felt like nothing could be more perfect.
When Conner’s ass met his hips, he let out a moan. “Oh hell, Conner. That’s perfect. You—you’re perfect.”
After a second, Conner caught his breath and started to move again, a slow glide up and down. The muscles in his thighs tensed and released rhythmically beneath Fletcher’s hands, matching the slick slide of his body around Fletcher’s cock.
Fletcher pulled his right hand up and wrapped it around Conner’s cock, making a loose fist and pumping a few times. Conner was so hard he almost didn’t seem to need the help.
“F—Fletcher,” he breathed. “Not going to last if you do that. Have to—have to—” Conner let out a low moan and moved faster. He thrust into Fletcher’s hand on the upstrokes, and little whimpers emanated from his throat every time he pushed his ass all the way back down.
Fletcher wasn’t too worried about whether he was going to get off, Conner’s body tight around him was almost enough by itself, so he sped his strokes. He wanted to see Conner’s face as he broke apart.
Conner moaned again, thrusting hard into Fletcher’s hand. His whole body tensed, chest arching forward and head falling back as he came, mouthing Fletcher’s name, but not able to vocalize. It almost came as a surprise when Fletcher followed him over the edge, pure bliss washing over him as he gripped Conner’s thigh.
When the light bulbs in the ceiling fan exploded and rained down tiny shards of glass, it definitely came as a surprise. Illuminated only by the light of the waxing moon, they stared at each other.
“Is that normal?” Conner asked, still breathless and smiling.
Fletcher shook his head. “Good thing I’ve got a second set of sheets.”
Conner leaned down and brushed their lips together. “It’s sweet that you think I’m gonna let you sleep anytime tonight.”
After they extracted themselves from the bed without too many cuts, Fletcher carefully pulled the sheets from the bed without letting the glass get everywhere. He handed the ruined sheets to Conner to dispose of and went to search the linen closet for his other set.
Two shattered light bulbs were definitely not normal. The light in the hallway was still on and unbroken, so it hadn’t been a power surge, if that was even a reason for light bulbs to explode.
Aldric? he asked. There was no response, only an empty space where the witch’s presence had once been.
“Fletcher?” Conner called from the bathroom.
The lights in the bathroom were flickering madly when he got there.
“I didn’t do anything,” Conner said the second Fletcher got there. “I just, I was cleaning up, and thinking about, um, things, and they started doing that.”
Fletcher was almost certain that Aldric was gone, but he was also the only reason that came to mind for the lights acting that way. “Still no German?” he asked.
Conner shook his head. “Just a weird”—he flexed his fingers as though they were stiff—“buzzing? Like I stuck my finger in an electrical socket. What’s the German thing about?”
Fletcher frowned. “It’s complicated. My phone is still in an alley between here and the diner. I dropped it when they hit me.”
“You can use mine. It’s on the chair in your bedroom, I—”
“You stay here,” Fletcher told him. “You shouldn’t be around electrical things right now if they’re not already broken.”
Conner’s face turned tragic, brows drawn together and mouth open as though he couldn’t get enough air otherwise. “I work on computers, Fletcher! I can’t—”
“I know.” Fletcher turned so they were face-to-face and squeezed Conner’s biceps in his hands. “And we’ll get it figured out, I promise. It may take a little while, but it’s what we do.”
Conner nodded and seemed to calm a little. His gaze dipped to Fletcher’s lips, like he was thinking about kissing him, even though he was in the middle of a crisis.
As much as he didn’t want to, Fletcher left him there to go get his phone. He dialed Wade’s number from memory, and his partner answered on the second ring. “Hunter.”
“Hey, Wade, it’s me.”
Wade sighed and sounded frustrated. “Let me guess. The book is still there?”
“No, he’s gone. But something’s wrong with Conner.” He kept his voice low, as though it were a secret Conner didn’t already know.
“Does he need the clinic? I can come drive you if you can’t get there.” There was a squeak in the background as though a chair had moved. Trust Wade to be there in a pinch, even if he didn’t know why he was needed.
Fletcher shook his head. “No, it’s—” He paused, and his brain finally processed Aldric’s final moments and applied them to what was happening. “It’s not the book. It’s the magic. Aldric made himself the sacrifice to transfer his magic. And it’s in Conner. Conner has become a witch, and he has no idea how to control it.”
Wade was quiet for a while before answering. Fletcher thought he heard a pen scratching against paper in the background. “I’m going to call Madame Cormier. I’ll call you back in a while.”
Conner was standing in the hallway, shoulders drawn in and arms wrapped around his chest defensively. “I’m doing this, right? I couldn’t hear what you said.”
He sighed. He was an idiot. Why had he been whispering? Conner needed to know exactly what was happening. So Fletcher took him into the living room and explained everything, starting with Isla’s arrival, all the way through Fletcher’s suspicion of what had happened in the cabin. “I’m not sure. I mean, I’m not a witch. I can’t see magic or anything. But it fits.”
“But this didn’t happen to you,” Conner pointed out. He was
calm. Fletcher wasn’t sure why that surprised him. Conner had learned a lot of shocking things in the previous week and had reacted to it all with the same cool, collected strength. Fletcher had a feeling that the panic was there, just well hidden. He was usually a master of hiding his emotions, and Conner’s calm looked familiar to him.
He shook his head. “No, it didn’t happen to me. But I’m already magical. My problem was internal, two kinds of magic fighting it out.”
Conner nodded. He stared at his hands, which he’d been doing a lot since he’d mentioned the buzzing.
The doorbell rang, which was odd, since they’d been expecting a phone call. When Fletcher finished throwing on pants and opened it, he found Wade standing outside with Annie Anderson. She smiled at him. “Fletcher, dear, where’s your young man?”
“Why?” he asked, suspicious.
She laughed. “Because I’m here to help him. Introduce us, go make coffee, and we’ll get this done as quickly as possible.”
“Ma’am,” Conner said, coming back out of the bathroom, having put his clothes on. He inclined his head to Annie as Fletcher led them in, then he nodded to Wade. “Deputy.”
“I hear you’re having trouble with newfound magic, dear,” Annie told him. “It’s not a permanent solution, but we can bind it up to give you some time to learn how to control it. Since you didn’t have any natural magic or experience, it’s going to take time to learn.”
Conner looked a little queasy. “You can’t just make it go away?”
“Magic is like mass,” Annie said, pushing him down on the couch and sitting next to him. “You can’t make it go away. You have to put it somewhere. We’d have to move it, and moving it takes a lot of work. And a sacrifice.”
Swallowing hard, Conner asked, “Sacrifice?”
“They tell me that the witch whose magic this was sacrificed himself so that the magic could be moved, and Fletcher would live.”
He’d known. Once he’d realized what had happened, Fletcher had known that. But until Annie said it out loud, he hadn’t felt it quite so keenly. Aldric was dead so Fletcher could live. Aldric had done that for him.