Devil Devil

Cardin gulped as a white hand travelled slowly up his thigh. Keary's qualms seemed to have vanished, but things were much more complicated now. Steeling himself, he whipped around, smacking the pillow squarely into the other boy's face. Keary gave a yelp of surprise, and Cardin dealt him a flurry of cushioned blows and babbled retorts.

"Who's frustrated? I'm not the one having horny-ass dreams about sticking it into anyone he can get his hands on, using sex to get whatever he wants–"

Abruptly, the pillow was snatched out of his hands, and he found himself once again on his back, pushed down by a firm hand in the middle of his chest.

"That hurts," the dark-haired boy said quietly, and they both knew he wasn't referring to the pillow. Cardin flinched at the coolness in the silver eyes above him. "Whatever I did to you, you liked it. Your reactions, the way your body responded, were all very real. I may have a horny subconscious, but I could never have imagined some of the noises you were making."

His fingers brushed against the sore spot on Cardin's neck, which was already a deepening red. Determined not to prove him right, the blonde bit down on a moan.

The low murmur continued. "You're right, Cardin. I do want you. You already know this. I've wanted you ever since I first found you, and I could have taken you at any time. You wouldn't have resisted; I would have made sure you craved it. But I didn't, because I don't believe in seducing people into staying by my side, and because you mean much more to me than just being a plaything."

The silver gaze above Cardin was unnervingly steady despite the huge confession Keary had just made. Unsure whether from fear or desire, the blonde shivered. Exhilaration had bloomed in his chest at Keary's words, words he realised he had been longing to hear… but Keary still had sins to answer for, and Cardin wasn't ready to let it go just yet.

"What about Edith?"

"What?" Keary blinked. "How did you–"

He paused mid-sentence, listening, and the muffled vibrations of a mobile phone could be heard in the silence. Following the sound, he fished it from the pile of blankets on the floor.

"Is that her?" Cardin asked.

"No." Keary shot him another quizzical look. "I have to take this." He stepped out into the hallway.

Cardin scowled. So much for his affection. He's not going to give me any satisfactory answers. All at once, the fatigue from the restless night, his anger, and the unrelieved tension swept over him. Deciding to head to work early and clear his head with some fresh air, he went to his room, ignoring the argent gaze that followed his retreat. He was preparing to leave the house when Keary spoke from the doorway.

"There's somewhere I need to be tonight, so I won't be able to walk you home. Nigel's busy too, but call me if you meet with any trouble."

Cardin didn't look at him. "Will you even pick up?"

Keary paused, then replied, "I'll do my best."

"Playing at the bar again?"

"No, the bar gig is done. This is something else."

"What is it?"

Another pause, before he said, "I can't tell you that."

Cardin kept silent, letting his unanswered questions stretch between them, until Keary finally sighed and spoke.

"It isn't Edith. I don't know how you came by that name, but she's just a professional acquaintance now."

"Looked like she wanted to be much closer than just professional acquaintances."

Keary's eyes hardened. "I'm guessing Nigel brought you to the bar last night." Fuck that Joker. "Look, I don't know what exactly you saw. We used to have an arrangement, but that's done with. She has a husband now, and I have no wish to fool around with married women."

As the implications of Keary's words sank in, Cardin stared at him in shock. The jealousy he'd felt last night engulfed him, making his throat go dry.

"Precisely what was the nature of your 'arrangement' with her, again?"

The silver eyes snapped up to search Cardin's face, turning anxious at what they found there, before settling into something akin to resigned despair. Very quietly, he answered:

"I was her plaything."

Cardin felt like he might be sick. Despite his accusations, a large part of him had held out hope that they wouldn't actually be true. "I– I need to get to work." He snatched up his coat, slipped past Keary, and made for the stairs, so dazed that he didn't see how pale the other boy's face had gone.

He was at the front door when he heard his name, and turned. The dark-haired boy stood in the doorway of the stairwell. From that distance, he suddenly looked so very young.

"What is it?" Cardin managed to force the words past the chaos churning in his chest. Part of him badly wanted this all to be just a poorly-planned prank; he desperately hoped that the other boy would laugh and tell him he was joking. But when Keary finally spoke, all he said was:

"Please, stay safe tonight."

...

Now, in the café kitchen, Cardin ran a tired hand across his face and tried to smile at Nimue. "Just a small argument at home. Nothing to worry about."

Nimue frowned. "Well, I hope it's not too serious. But you have to get a grip on yourself, Cardin. You're scaring all the customers!"

She made him clear the trash and take a five-minute break out back, but the time only gave his anxieties room to grow, and his mood continued to worsen. Finally, Nimue clocked him out early, and told him to make sure everything was sorted out nicely before he next came in.

The winter sky was already beginning to darken when he started trudging back home. Although it was great to know that he had such an understanding boss, Cardin had no idea what to say to Keary when they next saw each other. He badly wanted to take a walk to sort out his thoughts, but he was still nervous about running into trouble. He eventually decided to lock himself in his room instead, at least until he was ready to face Keary again.

Pleased with his decision, he opened the door and entered the house. But as he locked the door, a sound from behind made him whirl, only to meet the gazes of four strangers clad from head to toe in black, standing in the middle of the dimly-lit living room.

...