Barbarian - Jericho's Boys #3 - ch. 4 (Patreon)

I've written and re-written this chapter five times. I've scheduled it here and pulled it another two. I have never been so nervous to have you guys read a chapter before but I'm not going to say why. But I've tried to write it differently and every time Mal is very adamant about what he wants to say and do so...well, whatever. Here you go. I'm going to go day drink or something. Nico“Does it hurt?” Casey shook her head, eyes trained critically on the needle piercing her skin, watching intently as Freckles tugged the thread through the raw edges of her wound, drawing it closed, one stitch at a time. She was shockingly calm about it. Nico probably would have puked watching someone sew him up like this at her age. He sat sprawled in a chair on the opposite side of the small dining table where Freckles had made up a makeshift workstation. Doctor and patient sat catty-corner to each other, her hand resting on a white napkin like object Freckles had called a drape. A number of bottles and bandages were strewn on the table as well as the open suture kit. Nico was only half-watching as he towel-dried his shower-damp hair, his borrowed sweats a tad too big, making them pool at his ankles. He couldn’t be positive, but he was at least  fifty percent sure these were Seven’s sweats left behind when he’d had to clean up at the penthouse after a different job. It wasn’t anything new. They were always arriving in one set of soiled clothes and leaving in different clean ones, which meant Jericho and Freckles having to deal with their mess. Nico felt a little bad. It wasn’t like Coe could ask their housekeeper to do their bloody laundry, which left Jericho or Freckles to handle it themselves. The idea of Freckles doing laundry made Nico’s lips twitch. He couldn’t picture it.He shook the thought away as Casey—who had yet to shower—looked up at Freckles and asked, “What’s it made of?” Freckles gave her a curious look. “What’s what made of?” Casey nodded towards her hand. He’d already closed the two smaller cuts and was working on the largest one down the center of her palm, which was deep but not so deep it had severed muscle or tendon. At least, according to Freckles. “The stitch stuff. It looks just like the thread we use when we’re sewing bags.” Atticus nodded. “It is. It’s nylon. They commonly use it in manufacturing handbags, upholstery, and outdoor equipment. Anything that requires a strong stitch.” Leave it to Freckles to just know that.“It’s safe for my skin?” she asked, her tone suspicious. “Of course, it’s actually perfect for sutures. It’s tough, flexible, waterproof and causes minimal irritation to tissue,” Atticus said, like he was addressing a group of medical students and not a thirteen-year-old girl. Jericho smirked from his spot in the kitchen where he was making Casey a peanut butter and jelly sandwich in his pajamas. It was the only thing Freckles trusted Jericho to make in his kitchen. Not that Jericho had any burning desire to be in the kitchen. Not for any reason that didn’t involve molesting his husband while he cooked for their children, who were–thankfully–sleeping through this ordeal. They usually did. But Nico understood that. Trauma tended to make one a heavy sleeper. “Does that mean I can shower when you’re done?” she asked, grimacing as she looked down at her soiled clothes. “Yes, of course,” Freckles assured. “But we have some questions for you before our friends get here to take you to their place.” She nodded, scrolling through her phone but not really seeming to absorb anything. Nico couldn’t imagine having been through something so traumatic and having his mother missing while still maintaining any sense of composure. Not back then, anyway. But Casey was the picture of calm, more curious than worried. That made one of them. Nico couldn’t stop thinking about the troubles crashing down on him. Not just stumbling upon the dead body of a triad member—which was an enormous issue all by itself—but trying to decide how to deal with his best friend who was still showering in the spare bathroom. Nico captured his bottom lip between his teeth as his traitorous brain pictured his best friend’s naked body beneath the steamy water, face tipped back, droplets clinging to his lips and lashes. Fuck. Why had he ever shared a shower with that man? He knew way too well how he looked naked and wet. And now they’d kissed. No, they’d more than kissed. Nico didn’t even know what to call what had happened between them, but whatever it was it was one hundred percent Mal’s fault. Friends who kiss. That wasn’t even a thing. But Nico had pretended it was just so reasonable in the moment. Because he was weak and stupid and horny. And Mal was strong and pretty and smelled incredible all the time, even dripping with sweat. Nico released his lower lip, then licked over it. Especially dripping with sweat. Nico tried to push those thoughts away. He really did. He was sitting in a room full of people. He couldn’t be getting worked up thinking about his best friend, more specifically about the soul-searing kisses they’d shared. Fucking asshole. Couldn’t he just be bad at one thing? Why couldn’t he have been a weird kisser? Or a bad kisser who slobbered or used too much tongue? He dropped his forehead to the table with a groan, causing the table to vibrate, then jerked up giving an apologetic look to Freckles and Casey before setting his head back down less emphatically. The cool wood felt soothing on his overheated skin. What was wrong with him? It had been less than two hours since they’d had to wait for a clean up crew–dressed as a legit clean-up company–to arrive and cart off the body of a dead Chinese gangster and all Nico could focus on was how he’d let Malachi con him into blowing up their friendship. Maybe Mal had only just pretended to be this adorable little alien creature, maybe he was an evil little bunny-teethed sex demon sent to lead Nico astray? What other explanation was there? Kissing Mal was supposed to extinguish the hunger gnawing at his insides, not throw gasoline on it. How dare he be so fucking sexy? So hot. So good with his tongue…and his hands. It made no sense. Mal was an awkward turtle on his best day. He made weird eye-contact and spit out random weird facts like the back of a Snapple lid. He had a mean streak ten miles wide and he looked at Nico like he was a ten-course meal. He could—and would—debate whether subbed or dubbed anime was better with the same heat and fervor he’d defend something big like human rights. He made silly expressions when he was reading and he sneezed like a cat.Him sexing up Nico like the rent was due made no fucking sense. It had to have been a trap…or a fluke. His insides twisted painfully, his heart heavy. He’d really needed Mal to be bad at kissing. Fooling around with him was supposed to be a one time thing, a temporary solution, not like the answer to every prayer he’d ever had. Stupid, dumb, sexually adept cat-bunny. He’d ruined everything.Nico’s chest tightened, the inexplicable urge to cry overtaking him. Mal was already his everything. He couldn’t be the person who gets him off too. Nico knew better than anyone what happened when people brought feelings into sex or sex into feelings. He’d watched his mother chase love again and again, bringing home loser after loser, each one more dangerous than the last, until she’d finally just given up, choosing instead to exchange sex for money. She’d told him a million times that choosing money over love was the best thing that ever happened to her. She’d cautioned him to harden his heart, to never seek fulfillment or validation in other people. She had told him it was fine to date someone, it was fine to fuck them, but to keep love out of the equation. Love was for family…friendship. Relationships were for stability, nothing more than a financial contract. His friends said it was crazy to listen to his mom, that she was just bitter after being hurt so many times in the past. The only member of their friend group who understood was Seven. Nobody knew better than him that love was a fucking illusion. He thought Nico’s mom was an icon. He jumped as a hand landed on his shoulder, bolting upright with a gasp, earning a giggle from Casey and a smirk from Freckles. Mal lingered over him. Nico tipped his face upwards to look at him, his heart kicking as he made eye contact. Mal’s dark brown curls were dripping, missing the towel around his neck to land on his borrowed gray t-shirt, making the fabric darken everywhere they landed. “You good?” Mal asked, frowning so hard his brows knit together. Nico nodded. “Tired,” he said, by way of explanation. Mal dropped into the empty seat at the table, the legs of the chair making a horrific dragging sound as he then proceeded to drag-hop the chair closer and closer until they were touching. When Nico gave him a weird look, he gave him a closed lip smile that was silly enough to have him biting back a laugh. Mal was so weird. “Now that you’re here, I wanted to ask Casey a few questions,” Jericho said, setting the sandwich and some chips on the table within the girl’s reach. “Would that be okay with you?” She nodded, looking more apprehensive than she had just moments ago. “Okay.” “Did you know the man who broke in?” Jericho asked, placing a hand on his husband’s shoulder. She shook her head, her face falling as she added, “No. Not really. I would see him around the stalls sometimes. There’s been a lot of weird men hanging out there lately. They make everyone nervous.” “The stalls?” Mal asked. Casey nodded. “The booths we sell from. Most of the regular customers are designers looking to buy silk from the other stalls, but a lot of boutiques come for my mom’s handbags. They’d either buy them outright or offer to keep them in their shops on commission. But…then things changed.” “Changed?” Nico asked. Casey gave a stilted nod. “My mom’s custom designs were her own. They were unique, that’s why the boutiques always wanted to keep them in stock. But a few months ago, we started selling…” She fell quiet, her gaze ducking back to where Freckles continued to slowly, meticulously sew her wound shut. “Selling…” Jericho prodded gently. “I’m not supposed to say,” she whispered. Jericho gave her a sympathetic look as Freckles finished, snipping the thread, then began to wrap her hand with a soft looking white bandage material. “We need to know if we’re going to help your mom,” Jericho said. “Knock off bags,” Casey said quietly. “Those ones that look so close to the real ones it’s impossible to tell the difference. She was selling them…like they were real.” They all exchanged looks. There was a lot of money to be made in fake bags. “You think this is how the triad is involved?” Nico asked Jericho. “Making vendors peddle fake bags?” “What’s a triad?” Casey asked again, bewildered. Before anyone could offer a simple explanation, Malachi started to…well, Malachi. “The Triad is a collective term for various Chinese secret societies and criminal organizations.Their history goes back to the 17th century, originally as resistance groups against the Qing dynasty. The name ‘Triad’ comes from the triangular symbols used by these groups, representing the harmony of heaven, earth, and man. Modern Triads are involved in a wide range of activities like drug trafficking, extortion, money laundering, and even legitimate businesses. They have a strict hierarchical structure, with ranks like ‘Dragon Head’ for the boss, ‘Incense Master’ for the spiritual leader, and ‘Red Pole’ for the enforcers. Triad rituals often include elaborate initiation ceremonies involving oaths and blood. They’re known for their use of codes and symbols, like the number 4, which is considered unlucky because it sounds like ‘death’ in Chinese. Some of the most famous Triads include the Sun Yee On, 14K, and Wo Shing Wo. They operate not just in Hong Kong and Mainland China, but also in places with significant Chinese communities like Taiwan, Macau, and even the United States and Canada.”“Oh…” Casey said. “Why are they looking for my mom?” Not for any good reason.Nico looked to Jericho, who shrugged. “We don’t know yet, sweetie, but we plan to find out. We just need to do some investigating first.” “In the meantime, you’re going to stay with our friends Calliope and Lola,” Freckles said. “You’re going to have to miss a few days of school while we figure this out,” Jericho added. If anyone had told Nico he’d won a few vacation days at thirteen, he would have done a victory lap around the apartment. Casey just looked anxious. “Will…can someone get my work for me? I can’t get behind in my classes. My mom will kill me. She only lets me dance as long as I keep my grades up.” Her gaze snapped to Mal. “Does this mean I have to miss dance class, too?” Mal looked to Jericho, then Casey, before saying, “We’ll see.” The sound of keys being pressed on the door lock sounded through the apartment a moment before Calliope scream-whispered, “We’re here.” Mal and Nico exchanged looks. That was their cue to leave. It was already so late. ***The moment they entered the apartment, the mood shifted, Nico’s heart plummeting. It was dark, the only sound the hushed murmur of Levi and Shiloh’s television playing in their bedroom. It was late…or early…depending on how one looked at it. There was no way their roommates were awake, but they’d fallen into the habit of keeping the television on to quiet some of the noises from their…extracurricular activities. It didn’t do much, but it was better than nothing. Mal followed him into the bathroom like a lost puppy, putting toothpaste on Nico’s toothbrush for him, before doing the same for himself. They brushed their teeth in silence, their bodies knocking together occasionally each time they used the sink, both giving barely-there smiles in the mirror each time it happened. It was utterly normal. Boringly mundane. They’d done this a million times before. But something had changed. The energy between them now crackled. Nico felt this weird sense of anticipation like something was about to happen. He just didn’t know what. Or maybe he was just crazy. He suddenly wished Levi and Shiloh were awake. They were always a good diversion whenever Nico got too in his head about Mal. Nico finished first, replacing his toothbrush and giving Mal a tight smile before speed-walking to the bedroom and face planting into their tiny shared mattress with a loud groan. How were they going to sleep in the same bed after what had happened between them earlier? How were they supposed to be normal now that they’d…fooled around? He heard Mal enter but made a concerted effort to ignore his movements. Maybe he could just play dead or act like he’d passed out. It worked for those fainting goats, right? He sucked in a startled breath as fingers hooked into his sweatpants, tugging with intent. His pulse skyrocketed, his hands darting out to stop Mal’s, turning wild eyes on him. “What are you…” he started, then remembered this wasn’t anything new.Mal was always undressing Nico when he fell asleep with clothes on. Which was surprisingly often. He didn’t sleep well when he was fully dressed. Something about the way the fabric bunched around him made him want to peel off his own skin. Mal understood. They two of them were very different flavors of neurodivergent but they shared an aversion to constricting clothing. “You’re going to be uncomfortable and sweaty if you sleep in those clothes. Take them off,” Mal said, his tone a cross between confused and huffy, like he was irritated that Nico was being weird about something they did all the time. “Right, sorry. I was just dozing off, I guess,” he lied, heartbeat skipping. His cock kicked in his pants as he lifted his hips, letting Mal tug his pants off, his whole body flushing like he was getting him naked. Mal snorted once he wrestled them down and off. Nico didn’t even ask why. He was sure it was his borrowed black boxers with the little yellow baby chicks on them. “Get up, I need to make the bed.” Nico huffed, but dragged himself up, yanking his sweatshirt over his head while he stood there, watching as Mal quickly fixed the sheets, making sure there wasn’t so much as a wrinkle in sight. As soon as he finished, Nico collapsed once more, grabbing what he knew was Mal’s pillow, then inhaling deeply like a total weirdo. Hopefully, Mal didn’t notice. He listened, half asleep, as Mal continued to get ready for bed, the familiarity of his movements lulling him. He was almost out when he heard him open and close one of the drawers, then the rustling of fabric. He turned his head, keeping one side buried in Mal’s pillow as he covertly watched his friend, shamelessly gawking. Mal peeled his shirt off, tossing it in the general direction of the hamper, then lowered his borrowed joggers, giving Nico unfettered access to Mal’s perfect bare ass. He’d clearly skipped underwear after his shower. Saliva pooled in his mouth. Mal had been commando the whole time. It wasn’t a rare occurrence, but it never failed to tickle Nico’s brain. He tried hard to think of his best friend like a ken doll, just smooth plastic between his legs. But that was hard to do when he’d seen him very naked, when he’d felt his hard length pressing against him just hours before.Fuck, his ass was perfection. Nico wanted to bite it. He wanted Mal to bite him, too. No. No. No. No. No. He absolutely could not think about that. If he did, it was all over for him. Still, he couldn’t stop himself from leering at defined calves, thick thighs and back muscles that flexed with every movement. Kill me now.This was torture. If Mal was aware of Nico’s creeping, he didn’t acknowledge it. He shoved his legs into white boxer briefs—the short ones that stopped at the thickest part of his thighs—then joined Nico on the bed. He didn’t have time to worry about if things were going to feel weird since their kiss. Mal slid an arm beneath him, drawing him close, slotting his leg between Nico’s like he’d done a million times before.  Nico tucked his head into Mal’s neck as usual, his scent soothing all his rough edges far better than his pillow ever could. His hand slid down Mal’s back, stopping just above the swell of his ass. “Warm,” he heard himself say. “Go to sleep, Fidget,” Mal said, one hand petting Nico’s curls and the other settling into the bend of Nico’s narrow waist, his fingers hot as brands even on his overheated skin. He heaved a sigh, the tension seeping from his body as he molded himself to Mal. They were okay. This was okay. This was normal, comfortable. Routine. Even calling him Fidget, though it was a fairly new development.It had started one night at the bar with a drunken Nico teasing Mal about how he’d given Shiloh a cute nickname but not Nico. Mal had taken Nico’s complaint very seriously, looking shattered that Nico had wanted for something he hadn’t provided already. Sober, Nico would have felt terrible for distressing him, but drunken Nico had fed into his worry, feigning hurt. Mal had instantly asked what Nico wanted Mal to call him, but he’d told Mal that nicknames weren’t chosen by the person themselves, but those around them. This had stymied Mal, sending him into full brood until their friends arrived and began drunkenly throwing out ideas, each one more painful and obnoxious than the last. Nico had forgotten all about it, until a week or so ago. They’d sat on the couch, Nico’s leg bouncing a mile a minute. Mal had placed a hand on his thigh, stilling it as he always did. Nico stopped the jiggling, but had instead picked up the throw pillow, shredding the fringe as they continued to watch their show.Mal had placed a hand on the back of Nico’s neck, massaging the spot until Nico’s eyes were rolling back in ecstasy. “Relax, Fidget.” “Fidget?” “Mm, I heard it somewhere. It suits you. Since you never stop moving.” Nico had made a noncommittal noise, but he’d secretly been pleased with the silly name, especially when Shiloh had brought him a tiny dragon plushie the following week with Fidget embroidered onto its chest. Nico had rolled his eyes, but he knew Shiloh understood how much he truly loved it when he put it right in the center of his plushie pile. He slept with it clutched to his chest whenever he was forced to nap without Mal.“Night, Bunny,” Nico managed, around a jaw-cracking yawn. Mal poked him in the ribs. “You said you’d stop calling me that.” Nico snuggled deeper, pressing the words into the skin of Mal’s throat, just to the side of his Adam’s apple. “I did no such thing. I said I’d stop calling you that in public.”“It makes no sense,” Mal pouted. “Everyone else thinks I’m a cat. You’re the only one who calls me Bunny.” Nico grinned into Mal’s throat, knowing he was riling him up. “I call ‘em like I see ‘em. Nico see bunny. Nico say bunny. It can’t be helped. You’re a bunny, Bunny.” He could almost hear Mal rolling his eyes which only made him smile harder. He knew Mal didn’t hate the nickname as much as he pretended. It was the attention it garnered whenever Nico slipped up and said it in front of the others. All their friends would coo and squeal until Mal would make subtle but effective threats about what might happen to them should they choose to continue mocking him. Mal was strangely shy about most things. Nico had quickly learned that the only time Mal wanted all eyes on him was when he danced. Which worked out perfectly for Nico. It was impossible for him to look away when Mal danced. It wasn’t just his flawless technique or his ability to break down complex dances into bite size pieces even children with no dance practice could follow. People–dance people–raved about Mal’s skills. They marveled at how someone with mostly lyrical training was so good at hip-hop. Nico didn’t know technique. Didn’t care a bit about perfection. When Mal danced, he defied Nico’s understanding of physics. How did he get his body to look like it floated across the dance floor? How did he isolate his muscles so he appeared almost inhuman. It was like the music moved through him, like those lights that danced to the music at Christmas time. It was a stupid analogy, but not an inaccurate one. Mal was riveting when he danced.  And…so hot. Too hot. It made Nico think things. Dirty things. Bad, wrong things. It’s why he tried to avoid Mal’s practices now. Well, that and his roommate’s sudden aversion to wearing underwear beneath his very loose pants when he danced. At least with underwear, Nico had stood a chance of maintaining his sanity.But no…Mal had chosen violence, forgoing underwear altogether whenever he practiced in the apartment. He said he liked to be comfortable. How was underwear uncomfortable? Like Mal’s dick was so big underwear was painful? Was that even a thing? Nico couldn’t even counter the argument by saying it wasn’t true. Not when–through no fault of his own–he knew firsthand that it was.Two people couldn’t sleep the way he and Mal did each night and not deal with the awkward morning boner situation. It was biologically impossible. They’d just sort of made a silent pact to ignore it. But that was before…Ignoring Mal’s impressively large dick would be impossible now. Now that he’d felt it pressed against him with intent. Now that he’d had time to imagine it splitting him open and rearranging his guts. He dry swallowed, heart speeding up again, beads of sweat erupting at his hairline and at his lower back, his body reminding him he was still horny and unsatisfied. Think of something else. Dead bodies. That gross snot stuff at the top of kombucha. Liver and onions. Nothing worked. Not the squeak in their ceiling fan or the strange whirr of the PC in the corner. The more he tried not to think of Mal’s cock, the more he did until his blood was rushing south, his own cock filling rapidly. Fuuuuuuuuuck.What was wrong with him? This was what happened when a person went without sex for too long. Their dick took over. He tried to shift his pelvis so Mal’s thigh was no longer pressed directly against his rapidly growing erection, but his leg stayed firmly planted, Mal’s grip ironclad. “What’s wrong?” Mal mumbled, his voice startling in the near quiet of their tiny room. “Nothing,” Nico squeaked. “Just…hot.” Mal was silent for a beat before his hand squeezed Nico’s waist. “The heat is making you hard?” he asked, with just a little too much amusement for Nico’s liking. This was what Nico didn’t understand. How could Mal be smug, bold, sexy and smart one minute and awkward, shy and weird the next? Mal said his personality shifted daily, but Nico felt like it shifted moment to moment, confusing the fuck out of him. Who was the real Mal? Were all of them him? What was it like living in his head? “Fuck off,” Nico muttered, trying to push him away half-heartedly. “You sure, Fidget?” Mal rasped, flexing his thigh. Nico moaned, pleasure shocking through him. Nico managed to put just enough distance between their upper halves for him to make out Mal’s knowing smile in the barely there light from the window. He flexed his thigh again, then again, dragging desperate gasps from Nico each time. He dug blunt nails into Mal’s back, but that didn’t deter him at all. “Doesn’t sound like that’s what you want,” Mal taunted, his low register wrapping around Nico like silk. Mal wasn’t playing fair. Nico tried to put words together that formed a cohesive thought. “You…I…We…fuck, I can’t think straight when you’re doing that.” “What’s to think about?” Mal asked, staring directly into Nico’s soul. “Earlier you were desperate to come. Making the prettiest noises.”Nico flushed. At least Mal couldn’t see it with the lights off. “I know, but…” “If you want to stop, just say it,” Mal said, calmly, stilling both their bodies.Nico wanted to cry at the loss of pressure, of friction. He could definitely come just humping Mal’s leg like a needy puppy. “I don’t want to…but we should…right?” “Why?” Mal asked, in that genuinely curious way that made Nico feel like he truly was from another planet. He tried to think of a good reason…he really did. But Mal’s blunt nails were scratching at his scalp in a way that made him want to stretch like a cat in the sun. Why should they stop? Mal was hot and sexy and he touched Nico like he’d found the cheat codes to his pleasure. Nobody knew him better than Mal. Nobody. Who better to make him feel good than his best friend? Right? Nico’s mouth was so dry. “We should stop. Friends don’t do this together,” he said, his voice lacking the courage of his convictions.  “Friends with benefits do,” Mal countered, his words neutral but his hands starting to wander Nico’s bare skin once again. Friends with benefits. It’s not like Nico hadn’t considered it. In some ways it seemed like the perfect solution. But…there was that one little issue. Well, one big issue. “Our sexual…interests…aren’t exactly compatible.” There was a long silence before Mal asked, “How so?” Nico bit down on his bottom lip until he tasted blood, then sucked the wound, letting the taste of metal on his tongue ground him. Dread flooded his system. His…proclivities were hardly a secret amongst their friends, but he’d never explicitly told Mal about his kinks. Why would he? He knew Mal had feelings for him that went beyond friendship. Going into detail about his kinks just seemed cruel, especially when Mal was so…sweet to him all the time. Nico just needed to rip off the bandaid. “I like it rough,” he blurted, his whole body growing hot. “I want it to-to hurt. I need to feel…used. I need someone who can just get me out of my head.” Mal placed his hand on Nico’s throat, his thumb sweeping back and forth softly.“And.” Nico swallowed again, the slight constriction of Mal’s hand around his throat making him throb against Mal’s thigh.  “I need someone who will…” he trailed off, chest rising and falling rapidly. Why was this so hard? “take control. Someone who can just make decisions for me. I don’t want to think for myself.” Mal tilted his head, hand tightening just enough for Nico’s gaze to rocket back to his. “So what’s the problem?” “What do you mean?” he whispered, his skin on fire, heart hammering so hard he thought he might pass out. Mal rolled them, trapping Nico beneath him, his face half in shadow, his expression…menacing. He tilted his head like a curious dog, sounding genuinely baffled when he asked, “When have I ever not been in control of you, Fidget?” “Wh-What?” Nico asked, head spinning.Mal smiled, dropping so his forearms bracketed Nico’s head, his hips settling heavily against Nico’s, letting him feel his arousal. “Think about it,” he said, like Nico was a simpleton. Before he could even do as Mal asked, the older boy dipped his head, trailing his nose along Nico’s jaw, making it all but impossible to fulfill his request. “I-I don’t understand.” Mal tsk’d, shaking his head like he was disappointed, his tone condescending. “Does my Fidget need help thinking?” he asked, licking Nico’s cheek. “You get so dumb when you’re horny. It’s adorable.” Before Nico could say anything, Mal rolled his hips, dragging their cocks against each other, sending another jolt of mind-numbing heat through him. Nico whined, squirming beneath Mal, as desperate as he was confused. Mal appeared delighted by this. His low chuckle was infuriating. “It’s okay, Fidget. I’ll spell it out for you,” he said, placing a gentle kiss on his forehead. “I’ve been making your decisions for you since the day we met.” What was Mal talking about? Mal controlling Nico? Hardly. Everyone knew it was Nico who led Mal around by the nose. They joked about it all the time. Even in front of Mal. Was this his attempt at like…role play? “No.” Nico started, shaking his head. “That’s…” What? That’s what? Crazy? A lie? A fantasy? “No?” Mal countered, brow hitching upwards as he softly stroked Nico’s cheek. “You wake up when I say, shower when I say, eat what I cook you, take your vitamins because I lay them out for you. You drink water because I text you reminders. You get to class on time because I set your alarms. You do your homework when I say. You go to sleep when I say.” Adrenaline spiked through Nico’s blood, his tongue suddenly dry enough to stick to the roof of his mouth. A tiny icy finger of fear slid down his spine, but it did nothing to dampen the burning need inside. But Mal wasn’t done yet. He pressed his lips right against Nico’s ear, rolling his hips again, chuckling when Nico gave another pathetic whimper. He hated the way his eyelids fluttered closed so he could focus on every word Mal said. “When we go out, you drink only what I give you, dance with only who I allow…you only hook up with men I approve of and even when you’re with them, it’s me you’re texting, me you’re thinking about.” He pulled back to look Nico in the eye. “Tell me I’m wrong.” Nico’s heart slammed around his chest like a trapped animal.He was right. How had he never noticed? He didn’t know whether to laugh or cry or run screaming into the night. Had Mal manipulated him into this level of control or had Nico just handed it to him a little at a time? His life was certainly better with Mal in it. “You want me to take control of you,” he said. “But I already am. You think the bedroom will be any different?” “But the pain…” “You’ve seen how I kill, Fidget. Do I seem like someone who doesn’t know how to hurt you? I’ve studied torture techniques for fun. My hyperfixations are things like shibari knots and how much pain the human body can endure before it gives out.” “You could hurt me?” Nico whispered. “It doesn’t bother you?” Mal licked the seam of Nico’s lips. “Bother me?” He rocked against Nico. “Do you feel how hard I am right now? I want to make you cry. I want to hear you beg. I want to have to gag you to keep our friends from calling the cops. Hurt you? I want to destroy you.” “But…you are always taking care of me,” Nico said, bewildered. “And I’ll keep taking care of you,” Mal promised, like they were discussing the weather. “Before, during and after. Nobody knows what you need or want better than I do. Nobody knows you like I do.” He tilted his head to study Nico. “Does that scare you? Do I scare you?” Nico chewed his bottom lip. He didn’t know if fear was the right word. He was just having a hard time reconciling this Mal with the one he thought he’d known just minutes ago. “I don’t understand.” Mal stroked his cheek. “You will. Nothing has to change. I’ll still take care of you. I’ll let the others continue to think that you call the shots. I don’t really care what anyone else thinks anyway. It’s the truth, that gets me hot.” “The truth?” Nico echoed.Mal pressed his lips to Nico’s ear, biting it gently before saying, “You’d be lost without me.” Nico’s chest rose and fell rapidly. “I-No. That’s-” “Don’t misunderstand, Fidget. I’d be lost without you, too. I know your mom fucked your head up about love and relationships. That’s why I was content to wait you out. It’s why I let you pretend some other man could ever get you off better than I can. But you never follow through with it. Do you?” Nico just laid there, mouth open. It was true. No matter how many times he tried to get with other men, it never happened. Because none of them were Malachi. Holy fuck. None of them were Mal. His Mal. Of course, Mal knew him better than anyone else. Their friends joked that they were codependent, inseparable. And they were. It was true. Looking back, Nico had handed his life over to Mal the day they met. He’d just never noticed because he was too busy being cocky about how lovesick Mal was over him. How he couldn’t take his eyes off him, how he was always touching him, running to do things for him, pushing others hands off him. But…Mal was right. About everything. And Nico had never noticed. He should’ve been horrified. Any normal person would be. At the very least he should be embarrassed. The whole time he’d bragged about having Mal under his thumb, Mal had been using him like a little doll. The thought made him dizzy, like his world had been thrown from its axis and sent him hurtling through space. Was Mal some kind of secret psychopath? Was it even a secret really? He had a mean streak. Nico had witnessed it first hand. He’d just never imagined Mal would be able to hurt him, much less that he’d enjoy it.“Don’t be scared, Fidget,” Mal crooned. “And don’t be mad.” He pressed a kiss to Nico’s forehead. “We both get what we need from this. Don’t we? I let the world think you own me—and, let's be real, you do—and, in exchange, I take care of you, much, much better care than you were taking of yourself, no? There’s nothing wrong with that. Is there? It’s what you’ve wanted your whole life…isn’t it?” Nico gave a jerky nod, whispering, “Yes.” Mal smiled like Nico’s answer pleased him, and it set Nico’s blood on fire. “You always give into me so easily,” he murmured. “I’ve spent months jerking off in the shower thinking about all the ways I’m going to ruin you.” “Can you start now?” Nico asked, grateful Mal couldn’t see how red his face was.“As long as you understand,” Mal said. “Understand?” Nico parroted, understanding nothing.“Mm,” Mal said, sliding his fingers into Nico’s hair to cradle his skull. “Understand what,” Nico asked, tongue clumsy and thoughts honeyed.Mal’s hands tightened painfully in Nico’s hair until tears pricked at his eyes. “That you belong to me, just me.” Another shuddery breath left Nico, mind reeling. “You’re crazy. You said friends with benefits.” “That was before I decided to come clean about everything. We can keep pretending that those other guys can give you what you need if it turns you on, but if you fuck someone else, you’re signing their fucking death certificate.” Nico’s breath hitched at the casual way Mal spoke of killing over him. Was this what it felt like to marry a Mulvaney? He owed Felix and Noah a huge apology. Mal gave him a little pout. “Why do we have to keep up these stupid games now that you know the truth? You know nobody can give you what you want like I can. Nobody else will ever be enough for you.” “I…” Nico started, but then stopped stomach churning as something occurred to him. “Was all of this just some trick to get me to trust you?” “All of what?” Mal asked, dipping his head to bite Nico’s chin hard enough to drag a yelp from him, then looked down at Nico expectantly. God, he really was so crazy. How had Nico not seen it before? And why didn’t he care?“The hours we spent talking, hanging out, watching anime, watching horror movies. Do you even like anime? Are you…are you even you?” he managed, voice barely above a whisper, prepared for his heart to shatter into a million pieces if it was all a lie. Mal frowned, his face adorably confused. “I never lied to you. That’s the whole point. I never had to lie to you. From our very first conversation, I knew you were my perfect match. I love anime. I love horror movies. I love watching nature documentaries with you and bed rotting with you. I like cooking for you, texting you all day, dancing at the club with our friends. I love talking to you about everything and nothing. I only show my real self to you. I only started to understand my real self when I met you.” “Shiloh was right. You’re so crazy,” Nico mumbled, running his fingers through Mal’s thick hair. “Should I go sleep on the couch?” Mal asked, sounding like a kicked puppy. Nico wrapped his legs around Mal’s hips, fear lancing through him. “No. Don’t. I’m-I’m just…processing.”Mal smiled. “Okay.” Nico sighed. “Why are you telling me all this now?” His stomach churned as Mal pushed his curls off his forehead. “I just…couldn’t help myself. Do you wish I hadn’t?” Nico shook his head. “No, but now I’m worried that I don’t really know you…” Nico admitted, inexplicably clinging to him harder. Mal shook his head, his touch feather light as he stroked his thumb across Nico’s lip. “It’s the opposite, really. Now you know everything. I’m still all the things that made me your best friend.” “Is-Is this just some personality thing you’re trying on for the night? If it is, tell me now. You know I don’t care.” Mal shook his head adamantly. “That’s not it. No matter who I am when I wake up, I still take care of you. It’s the one constant in my life. Knowing you need me anchors me somehow. You know?” “I think so.” “You make me better. I wish I wasn’t like this. I wish I could be more…direct. I wish I could somehow merge all the random parts of myself into one cohesive person that would make people more comfortable. But my brain doesn’t work like that.” Nico’s insides twisted. He knew how much Mal struggled with all the noise in his head. “You don’t have to do that for me.” Mal cupped Nico’s face. “I need you to understand that it’s all me. The part of me that needs to take care of you is just as important as the part of me that would die without you.” Die without him…How was it that a murder wasn’t the most intense thing to happen to him that day? “Jesus, you’re so fucking intense, dude,” Nico whispered. “I was just hoping to get laid.” The look in Mal’s eyes stole Nico’s two remaining brain cells. “I can still help you with that.”  “I-I don’t know.” Mal’s mouth brushed his softly, tongue sweeping inside as they parted easily. Nico’s head grew buzzy, Mal’s kiss sending flames licking along his insides. He’d been turned on so many times today, it was starting to feel like some kind of endurance trial. He didn’t know what to do anymore.  When Mal pulled back, his free hand slid from Nico’s ribs to his nipple, flicking it with his nail. “Want me to decide for you, Fidget?” Did he? He was so confused.  Mal crashed their mouths together as he twisted the sensitive nub between his fingers, swallowing the pained cry from Nico before saying against his lips, “I asked you a question.” “Yes,” Nico cried, cock leaking. “Just…you decide. Tell me what I want…please.”