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corruptedroses · 2 years ago

Text

— Corruption

Fandom — Five Nights at Freddy's: Security Breach Pairing — Glamrock Bonnie/Glamrock Freddy Summary — Damian doesn't let the things he loves go so easily. When Eliseo runs away when he's locked up for something he didn't do, all he can think is how to get him back. Content Warnings — stalking, toxic relationships, mafia au, characters use new names, pre-established world and relationships, Eliseo (Freddy) is a stripper, reuniting, mutual masturbation, blow jobs, handjobs, porn with plot (lots of plot), bit of pain kink Word Count — 10,978 words Author's Note — Commissioned piece, Alternate names are used in this version and are as followed: Damian (Glam Bon), Eliseo (Glam Fred), Christine (Glam Chica), Fergus (Funtime Freddy), Felix (Funtime Foxy)

Love is like a drug, and when you are forced to go cold turkey it hurts the most. Damian knew this more than anyone from the sting Damian knew this more than anyone since his heart had been left stinging and empty after the third mail day in prison.

It started slowly, he denied it; Eliseo probably was busy with something else, maybe he was trying to track down who had framed him… but then he didn’t visit. He was patient, and understanding, he waited in his cell, waited in the visitation room, hanging by that phone in hopes that those familiar blue eyes and caramel curls would walk in. Eliseo never came. The nagging feeling turned full bloom as the weeks went by, eating him away more and more.

The weeks blurred, and Damien found himself staring at those same four walls over and over again, waiting for that call. He bottled it down, and kept it deep inside his chest; he kept doing what he needed to do while wearing those orange jumpsuits, having his men work on getting him out. He knew he was an innocent man — he never dealt in drugs anyway — so the day he was finally released after being cleared of his name… the nightmare had only just begun.

To find a home that was devoid of the one you held close crushed you inside, a storm that brewed in the heat of summer as you found yourself on your knees. Damian’s heart had crushed and shattered, spread across the ground when there was nothing. It had been a blur when he had thrown open every door, called out all the names he knew in his heart, and searched for any sign that he wasn’t dreaming.

This was a nightmare to him, one that squeezed his lungs so tightly. Where was he, where was his lover? Eliseo’s name had fallen from his lips so many times, so many places he searched, but the smell of lavender had faded, replaced by stale, lonely air. Dust caked on surfaces, on furniture that hadn’t been used, it collected like a veil on the nightmare in his heart. He had to be somewhere, he had to be anywhere — his footsteps had stopped in the bedroom, the setting sun’s rays catching on a familiar sheen of golden metal.

There the cuff links that had promised Eliseo sat, in their velvet box, as pristine as the day he had gifted them. ‘I’m sorry’.

Eliseo was gone.

Their city was big, but not big enough. It was months later that Damian found Eliseo once more on the outskirts of the city, knowing the man couldn’t have gotten far — Eliseo had always said he never planned to leave the city given he didn’t know where else he would go, so finding him one day, as he drove around, had thrilled him like no other had before. He was still perfect, with his soft curly hair and his adorable blue eyes, Eliseo was like an angel that had descended to Earth in human form.

Seeing him surrounded by flowers only seemed to enhance that unearthly glow. Roses, peonies, daffodils, it was like looking at the perfect photograph.

A few sat in his glove box that had been taken in the weeks since that day, covered in what should be on Eliseo, yet his fingers tightened on the steering wheel as he parked across the street, watching his lover’s every move. He didn’t want to scare him more than what he should at that moment, he didn’t want to dare dream of causing his beloved distress, yet he couldn’t help himself. That shop didn’t see as much business as it would in the inner parts of the city, it didn’t provide income on some days, he felt the need to write a cheque and slipped it into the mailbox in the dead of night, the next day he had watched as Eliseo had pulled it out.

Yet he didn’t do anything with it.

He watched day in, day out, that Eliseo would have the same little beat-up car, and use the same sneakers that he noted seemed to be developing holes in their sides between the tape and staples he used to keep them from falling apart — it was like the man was ripping up the cheques and refusing to use them. ‘He’s always been like this,’ he thought to himself, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the steering wheel, ‘he doesn’t usually spend much on himself.’ Frugal in spending, he remembered the many, many times that he had to force Eliseo to spend on himself, to spend a single cent that came from his card; the man hated to spend, especially other’s money, so it was obvious that he hadn’t changed from that.

Yet the memories only seemed to haunt him.

“I can’t spend this.” Eliseo’s eyes were wide when he peered into the envelope; it had been one month since Damian had finally convinced him to start dating, and it had been two since Damian had confessed his feelings to the man that he had been bottling up for years. It was only right that he wanted to give the man something to spend, something to use, but yet as the envelope was shoved back into his own hands, Damian’s brow quirked.

“How so?” Damian’s voice rippled through the office like a soft rain as he attempted to push back the envelope into Eliseo’s hands, but yet the man didn’t seem like he wanted to budge, only trying harder to keep the envelope in Damian’s hands. “I’m giving you this.”

“It’s not my money.”

“And I’m giving it to you. It makes it your money.” Damian finally forced the envelope full of banknotes finally back into Eliseo’s hands, tucking his own into the armpits of his suit as he stepped away, the brunette seeming confused on what to do with such a big stack of cash; flash it to your allies and they’re drooling, flash it to a random woman and she’ll drop her panties for you, flash it to Eliseo and the man looked like he had seen a ghost. The way his fingers ghosted over the bills, counting each in his mind, “Is five thousand too little?” Damian questioned as he watched his lover’s eyes widen.

“It’s way too much!”

“Fine…” Taking the envelope and pocketing half the bills, Damian shoved the money back into Eliseo’s hands, pocketing the rest. “Two thousand five hundred. Spend it all by the end of this week and show it to me.”

“We should’ve been married by now…” Damian muttered under his breath as he watched Eliseo, like clockwork, come from the store to water the flowers that sat outside. The apron he was wearing was ratty, worn, he could see the strings that kept it around his neck fraying and falling apart — he needed a new one, one that would match his eyes, maybe one that had a pocket on the front. He could get him a designer one, one that matched his store and—.

“Haven’t you thought about just talking to him?” Oh, Christine was in the car, he had forgotten. The white-haired woman sat in the back seat, the smell of nail polish emanating through the air as she did her nails on the leather seats of the car. She was practically his right-hand man and Eliseo’s former-best friend so, when she had heard that he had found Eliseo, it had been a nightmare to try and tell her no. Hearing as she clicked her teeth and fumbled with something in her beauty bag, Eliseo would spot Christine a mile away if he hadn’t enabled the child locks in the back. “Eliseo probably still loves you.”

Keyword: probably.

“I don’t get why you’re here…” Damian muttered, finally turning his head to stare at the woman as she prepared an aerosol can, Damian quickly snatched it away before she could even attempt it. “No hair spray.”

“You’re no fun.” Violet eyes stared at him before Christine muttered something in a tongue he couldn’t understand. The woman settled into her seat with her overly bright clothing and even louder attitude rolling off of her in waves while Damian tossed the hair spray into his passenger seat. “Being like a stalker every day isn’t helping you get any closer to him.” He knew that too, yet his thoughts were interrupted as two shoes were shoved in his face.

“Pink or green?” Both were as hideous as the other, but as he pointed to the pink one, Christine hummed and the shoes to disappear into the back seat again. “As I was saying,” she continued while Damian watched her throw the shoes on through the rear-view mirror, “you two were pinning after each other a long time — way longer than what when me and the others were around for.”

The sign flipped to closed, Damian started up the car and he fastened his seat belt then began to drive off, “it’s more complicated than that, Christine.” Damian said, making sure that Eliseo didn’t see them drive off as he headed through the streets, “either way, have you learned anything from the club?”

“Oh, yes, that’s why I’m here.” Sliding into the front seat and fastening her seat belt, Christine looked the part of the role she was about to play, skimpy leotard and all, her makeup done to whatever perfection was needed. The club they were going to didn’t just hire any dancer, they needed the best, and with Christine’s face done up and her body on display, they had accepted her and kept her. She had been careful to not cross paths with Eliseo when possible,even going as far as popping in some (dark) contacts to cover the striking colour of her eyes, which Damian could do nothing but tap on the wheel and wait for. “Eliseo has been giving the money out to everyone else in the club.”

“And you left it in his hole?”

“Yep, still did it anyway.” He could already feel the migraine coming on from this information, throwing on the brakes suddenly as he realised he was approaching a red light. “Christ! Watch out would you?”

“You should pay attention.” The words were directed more to himself than Christine. He kept driving and soon the sun dimmed over the horizon, bringing the flashing neon signs and lights of the club into view. They acted as a beacon of limited delight, a flashing sign that directed occupants to forget their loneliness and sorrows and funnel into its doors.

How sour had it been when he first discovered that this was the place his beloved spent his nights, dancing away for men who didn’t know how to appreciate Eliseo the way he did. Even if Christine reassured him that Eliseo didn’t allow anyone to touch him or get close enough to cop a feel , it didn’t ease the nerves that entangled themselves around his heart. Leering eyes, wanting hands, he could only imagine Eliseo in a tight string that barely concealed nothing, dancing around a pole and entertaining the wandering eyes. He had seen Christine perform when they first met, but never before had he imagined that Eliseo would be in the same position.

What hadn’t he given Eliseo? Did he want more power in the relationship or did he want something else? He racked his brain for hours upon hours at night as he would try and figure out what his beloved wanted and craved. What had caused him to leave the world of comfort and luxury to let men that he didn’t know ogle him? Looking at Christine who did her lipstick in the mirror, he thought about the reasons she had been in the business; power, attention, comfort, it was all those things that she had craved and more and she still didn’t stop, not even when she became his right-hand man.

“Was I ever bad to Eliseo?” Damian muttered as he finally pulled into the parking lot, cutting the engine as he sat in his seat. The confused noise that came from the woman beside him was enough to make him fully turn his head, seeing the way her eyes looked at him as she paused mid-stroke, “did he ever tell you that I was doing something wrong?”

Christine only shook her head as she began to step out of the car, swiping the velvet box that was in the middle of the seats and placing it into her handbag, “you’ll have to find out yourself. Talk to him, tonight, or I’ll drag you to him myself.” Leaving him to stew in his thoughts, Damian watched as Christine crossed the parking lot to the front doors, and was let in with a nod and a smile. That woman loved to tease and taunt, and drag people to where she wanted them to go

As he pulled the keys out of the ignition and stepped out into the dimming sun, he sucked in his lips.

Damian had to finish this game of cat and mouse; Eliseo had been running for far too long, far too far, he needed to know that he was still wanted by him — so why didn’t he want to move? Sucking in a deep breath through his nose, he leaned against the roof of his car, staring at the club’s doors. Beyond those doors, already in a room that was filling up with men and women, Eliseo would be there soon. In there, he could corner him and take him back, make him come home.

It should be as easy as negotiating a deal with someone, yet his legs felt like jello. Was it the fact that he had been dreaming of this moment for so long that his legs didn’t want to work with him, or was it the fact that he didn’t know if this would be the same boy he knew? “Fuck.” Running a hand through his curly hair, Damian cursed multiple times under his breath. Eliseo was like air, so beautiful and essential for survival, he wanted to breathe it in, he wanted to embrace him, but what if he was like smog and would harm him from the inside?

No, he had to snap out of it, he couldn’t let his worries and fears take hold of him before he even had a chance to go inside. Christine had one goal and one goal only tonight; get those cuff links to Eliseo, if he wasn’t in there then the entire plan could fall apart. With one last check in the side mirror of his car to make sure his hair was perfectly in place, Damian allowed his feet to carry him across that car park. Each step was long, calculated, and hurried, yet his heart felt like it wanted to secure itself to the ground with how heavy it felt in his chest.

Damian had seen the horrors of gun battles and survived numerous gang fights, yet the mere thought of seeing Eliseo again after all of these years? It felt like something else entirely. He had said to the other man before that he would allow himself to take a bullet before he would even think about having to hold a gun. The building seemed so much bigger now that he stood at the door.

“Identification.” The bouncer demanded, Damian, snapped out of his thoughts long enough to grab his ID from his wallet, and handed the piece of plastic to the other man, watching as he tilted down his sunglasses before looking between him and the picture. “Birthday?”

Oh, he forgot that he looked different from the man in the photo. Coughing into his fist, Damian said his birthday without needing to look at the card, the bouncer moved to the side as he allowed Damian into the building.

“Men are on the right side of the stage, women on the left.”

He knew that already based on what Christine had told him, but yet he nodded his head in acknowledgement all the same, allowing himself to slip inside the smog of carnal desire and want that thinly veiled the depression that seeped deep within the rug. It was a standard entry hall, with a carpet that had seen better days and walls that had seen much too much smoke, but yet all the same it was… quite dull. Compared to the glitz and glam he was used to due to the Aftons hold on the underbelly, this was certainly a downgrade. He dodged the eyes of the women and men that dressed themselves in what he assumed to be staff uniforms, entering out into the main room with little noise.

The stench had become stronger, choking his nostrils and lungs as he surveyed the rooms. Decent space to move about, and doors were easily accessible, the soft pink of the overhead lights barely could disguise the blood that stained the carpet. Damian scowled as he avoided what seemed to be a fresh puddle, watching as staff worked quickly to try and clean it up. This was the place that Eliseo had found himself working at. Damian could hear the poor crackle of the speakers and see chairs that had been poorly taped back together — this place was a blunder, a disgrace to the district it sat on.

No wonder Christine had called it the crack house of whore houses, it certainly deserved the name.

“First time?” Of course, the one person you never wanted to be anywhere near had to be here. The white-haired Funtime grinned up at him with those blue eyes and Damian had to resist pulling his gun out on him right there and then. “Neutral zone, can’t do shit here unless you want to be pinned by the balls to the wall, Glam.”

Fuck, he was right. Relaxing the hand that hovered near his gun, Damian allowed his jaw to tighten as Fergus pulled out the chair next to him. “I’m not planning to be here for long.”

“Your boy toy ain’t even here yet, sit, I’ll buy you a drink if you do.” Letting his eyes wander for a bit around the room, not spotting any other familiar heads of white, purple or pink, Damian slowly slid into the chair, making sure that it was as far as possible between himself and the bastard that made torture a hobby.

“I’m assuming you want to talk to me?”

“Nah,” Fergus laughed, flagging down a waitress as he wheezed out of his ugly mug, “just want to see you be uncomfortable up close — two scotches, one with extra ice.” Turning his face away to ogle at the waitress’s breasts, it gave Damian some time to compose himself, slipping a knife that sat on the table down his sleeve.

You could never let yourself be too comfortable around a Funtime. Getting one’s attention was bad enough, but, being close enough to one where you could smell the horrid stench that rolled off of them from their rotten personalities? You may as well pay the devil for a dinner date.

“Now,” Without the appeal of mounds of fat in his vision, Fergus returned to Damian, his grin showing every tooth in his mouth as he rested his hands on the table, “Did ya whore him out or did he run screaming?”

“Shut your fucking mouth.”

“Al’ght, calm your dick.” Throwing his hands up as he retracted the statement, Fergus’s blue eyes seemed to glow under the pink as he drank from his half-finished scotch, the grin never disappearing. “I’m assuming you’re fetching yer due or some shit.”

“It is none of your concern.”

“You’re sitting across from me, Fergus, surrounded by piss, blood ‘nd shit in a club that might as well be shut down by the pigs and you tell me it ain’t any of my concern, especially when ye’re dressed up like it's a date?” As the man leaned over the table, like a bear about to strike the rabbit, Fergus’s eyes bore into his soul, “be lucky nobody else has put a bullet to that temple.”

“Is that a threat?”

“Can be if you want it to be.” The chair groaned under the weight of the other man as he sat back down, looking at his watch as he checked the time. “Pretty boy should be on in two minutes. Nev’a late.”

And never late he was. When the lights dimmed and those gorgeous brown curls appeared on the dimly lit stage, it was like Damian had lost all ability to speak. And he was dressed in that pretty lingerie that Damian had bought him. Pretty in blues and purples and reds, Eliseo seemed to wear it like a fancy glove as he danced around that stage with the lights shining on him — while the outfit had been for only his eyes to see in the first place, there was something about being able to glance to the side and see the other man drool over something he couldn’t have. He watched as Fergus swished around his scotch.

“Two scotches.”

Damian eyed the glasses as they were placed down on the table and watched the waitress as she walked away before he picked up the glass that sat in front of him, sniffing at the contents before putting it back down. While on most days he would allow himself to sip at a good scotch, the smell of cinnamon that came from the glass was less than inviting, red eyes glaring at the man in front of him momentarily.

“Not drinking it?” Damian bit his tongue as Fergus spoke, though as the man shrugged and kept drinking his own, Damian felt his eyes to wander back to the stage. He could see Christine off to the side, watching as she scanned the room before letting her eyes land on him. And Fergus.

‘Are you fucking insane?’ the woman mouthed from behind that curtain, Damian watching the way her brows furrowed in confusion at the overweight man. It hadn’t been a part of the plan — neither of them had been banking on another being here, but yet as Damian looked to Fergus before back to Chica, he mouthed back ‘I have this under control’ before she retreated behind the curtain.

He didn’t have any of this under control. He had to find a way of shaking off Fergus. Looking around the room before spotting the manager of the place, having seen him plenty of times being the last to leave and the first to arrive. The walk was brisk, and quick, Fergus’s attention too enamoured by the stage to notice that Damian had left. “You the manager?”

The manager was a scrawny thing up close, couldn’t be older than twenty-five based on the acne, though as the green eyes of the other man looked him up and down before nodding, Damian bit the inside of his cheek.

“Is Eliseo available for a private meeting?” Watching the way the manager’s eyes bulged at the use of Eliseo’s real name, it looked like he saw a ghost, blinking once, twice before looking at him even closer. “I know him personally.”

“I’d need to talk to his persona— woah.” As Damian pulled out a wad of cash from his inner pocket, flashing it to the man’s face, he could see the metaphorical dollar signs that appeared in his green eyes before he snatched it, counting each bill quickly. “I’ll see what I can do, the private rooms are in the back.”

Good, Fergus can’t follow him there. Letting himself be led into the twisting hallways of the club, Damian could still smell the rotten stench from a mile away, yet it dulled the further he got from the main room. The carpet became less sticky under his feet, the lighting seemed to be better, and as he was left in the room he knew that this club put their bank on private reservations.

He couldn’t help but let himself to the wine in the bucket, not even taking a cup as he took a swing straight from the bottle. How long would it be until Fergus realised that he was gone, leaving nothing but the scotch he was meant to drink? Probably not anytime soon. Letting the stray wine that attempted to slip from his mouth be wiped away by the sleeve of his suit jacket, he inspected the label of the wine.

“Fuck…” Damian muttered, smacking his lips against his teeth as he spoke, “That’s some fine wine.” Bottled in the eighteen hundreds, no wonder why this place looked so nice in the back; it was for the rich and the elite as a cover. He could hear the thunder of applause from where he stood, signalling the end of Eliseo’s show. With the thundering vibrations that echoed through the halls, Damian’s throat tightened up; it was like his entire conscious was telling him that Eliseo may be fine here, that he was seemingly happy. “Fuck!” He cussed again, the wine bottle vibrating with the impact as he slammed it against the table in the middle of the room.

He was in this too deep now.

The door slammed open, Damian letting his eyes shoot up to look at the blazing blue that was Eliseo. Seeing him there, making eye contact with him and breathing the same air as he had made his heart feel like it was squeezed in a vice grip. His hair had grown longer, shaggy in front of his eyes as Eliseo took a few steps into the room, shutting the door behind him. It was quiet, the only thing that echoed in the room being Eliseo’s hard breaths, watching as he leaned against the wood of the door.

“Elis-.”

“Don’t talk yet.” Eliseo’s words came out harsh, stopping him in his tracks as he sucked in a deep breath. Of course, what was he thinking; they hadn’t seen each other in so long and now he was intruding on his life. He took another sip of the wine. “I should have known it was you,” Eliseo’s voice wavered as he talked, even if he had long hair that covered his eyes, there was no hiding the tears that streamed down the other man’s face as he stood there, a sheer slip covering his skin from his gaze, “how long have you been out?”

“Since June.” Even if it had been four months since Damian was released from that hell hole, there was something about how Eliseo just stared at him, keeping their distance while wearing those goddamn shoes that made him taller. Based on the door, with those heels, Eliseo was probably as tall as he was. “I’ve been looking for you.”

“I knew you would, you always do.” It didn’t stop the pain that had come with knowing that Eliseo had moved out when he was stuck in the shit hole, that he had uprooted his life to do this, but as Damian took a few steps towards the man, Eliseo didn’t even reject his touch as he placed a hand on his cheek, watching as he slowly melted his way into his hand. “I missed this…” I missed this too hung on the edge of Damian’s tongue, letting his arms slowly scoop Eliseo into his hold. It was foreign to finally hold him again, to smell his shampoo, to feel his heat.

It felt right.

“Why didn’t you come to me directly?”

“I wanted you to want me back.” Damian let his words hang in the air as the thumping of the stage echoed through the walls, his fingers holding onto Eliseo tight as they stood there. This was too easy, too simple, he had imagined Eliseo screaming, crying, kicking, yelling at him to stay away, yet Eliseo had come to him so easily, so quickly, letting him hold him in his arms like it was where he belonged — no, scratch that, it was where he belonged.

He had dreamed of those nights where they could just go back to normal, where he would come home to Eliseo in his arms… his grip grew tighter around the other man’s waist, feeling the satin that covered his form. This hadn’t been for nothing, this had been for something, and he had it back where he wanted it.

“Why did you leave?” Damian finally muttered after the silence had entrapped them whole, allowing Eliseo to pull back to look him in the eyes. Those gorgeous blues, swimming with tears, rimmed with red against his tanned skin. A painting he wanted to forever preserve.

Yet nothing could prepare Damian for the shaky words that escaped Eliseo’s mouth, ones that shattered his world and made his soul quake in a rage that he couldn’t express; “I’m no good for you, you need someone stronger, someone who wouldn’t hesitate shooting.”

“No good?” Damian repeated, already feeling the way his skin scorched in the unspoken emotions, red eyes wanting to bulge from their sockets as the pressure built up and up; who dared make Eliseo think that, to poison his brain with untruths and lies? He would murder them all. “You’re the only one who can love me the way you do.” And it was the truth. Eliseo was the only one had grown up with him, been with him through the rocks, been in his bed with him, hell, had seen him cry — yet he couldn’t stop the tears that overflowed from his own eyes as all the feelings he had been bottling up over the past few weeks finally overflowed.

“Damian?”

Burying his face into Eliseo’s hair, Damian breathed him all in; he was here, he was in his arms, the loneliness that had been gripping his heart still remained, however, crushing him, smothering him. He just needed to hold Eliseo close, to feel his heartbeat. He could feel Eliseo’s hands pressed up against him, his hands wound tightly around something, and yet he didn’t mind the feeling of something lightly poking him in the stomach. The smell of lavender and sweat invaded his senses, the feeling of Eliseo’s sweaty hair pulling him to the ground over and over again.

The music started back up in the main room, signaling the start of another performance as Damian allowed himself to pull back, to brush away the strands of hair that had settled themselves in front of Eliseo’s blue eyes so then he could look at him in all his glory. A masterpiece, a man that no other could dare dream of loving the way he did, yet as his eyes flickered down to Eliseo’s lips, seeing the way they were parted and lightly dusted with the hint of glimmering lip balm, he could not stop himself as he swooped in to have a taste. Strawberry and a hint of vanilla, he could smell it as he allowed himself to have that small taste, but yet a small taste didn’t seem to be enough for Eliseo, pulling Damian back in for another, and another.

How he had missed this too. Damian allowed his thoughts to be thrown to the wind as he pressed Eliseo against his hips, allowing the man to devour his breath, his life, and his soul as they kissed. Eliseo may be the more subdued of the two in terms of their lifestyles, but that was never the case for them in particular, allowing Eliseo to lead the kiss as he was pushed across the room, allowing the back of his knees to hit the cushioning of the couch behind him, forced to his ass as Eliseo pressed him down.

Dressed in that lingerie, staring at him like he was some sort of piece of meat, Damian had no other choice but to feel his arousal stir as he looked up at him. Fuck, that was hot.

“Waltzing back into my life,” Eliseo muttered, “making me feel all these things so easily?” Eliseo’s legs easily straddled him as he sat there hovering, those pretty blue eyes that twisted their way into Damian’s life staring down, down into his soul. The lights of the room couldn’t reach his face anymore, overshadowed by the form that was Eliseo, his brown hair dangling down as his fingers came to slowly unbutton his shirt. His tanned skin seemed to flush more as his blood began circulating. “How naughty of you.”

Damian’s shirt was ripped open once the buttons were finished, Eliseo’s fingers spreading all over the pale skin as he sucked in a breath. Same Eliseo, those same eyes, the same ones that drank in the silky and scarred skin of Damian as if it were always his first time — it was never enough, Eliseo’s lips coming to gently nibble at the junction of his neck. “Getting into the good part already?” Damian muttered, his breaths coming out in a groan as he let his hands begin to ghost Eliseo’s waist, though with two slaps his fingers were forced to find purchase in the cushions underneath him instead.

When Eliseo didn’t want to be touched, he would make sure he had control of it. He would dangle what Damian wanted right over his head, just out of his reach, make Damian work for it as he would sit there, tortured, beginning to feel the way his cock brushed on the inside of his underwear as he had to restrain himself. A little tease, a minx, just like the way he had ran away from him.

Damian wanted to touch him, to mark him, to show him who he belonged to, but yet he found himself stilled underneath his touch and gaze, letting the other man do what he wanted.

“Good boy.”

If he died right now, he would die a happy man. Eliseo’s fingers dragged down his chest, over his nipples, down and down towards his waist band before he gently dipped them underneath, baiting a breath from Damian before he pulled them out, continuing to drag them down over his pants. Was Eliseo begging to be thrown onto the cushions and have the life fucked out of him? Was he begging to be like the photographs that he had gladly defaced with his cum? Damian thought so, his mouth going dry as Eliseo finally dragged his fingers back up, unbuckling his pants before slowly dragging down the zipper.

“How long ago did you find out I worked here?” Eliseo’s words were like a slithering snake as they snuck their way into his ears, his fingertips barely ghosting over the outline of Damian’s cock, feeling the way that it rubbed against the fabric, drawing forth a small hiss that escaped his throat.

Eliseo was really doing this here now, for what reason? Damian’s mind racked itself to find the answer as he thought back onto the many days that he had spent stalking outside of Eliseo’s flower shop and the club, feeling the heat of Eliseo’s stare on his skin as he felt the piercing gaze burrow deep into his psyche.

Had he been aware all of this time? Had he been paying attention?

Licking his lips as he felt Eliseo’s fingers grasp firmly onto his cock through his briefs, Damian finally answered, “A few weeks now…” He said, hearing the way Eliseo’s chest hummed with satisfaction at the answer, though his hand didn’t move under the briefs, instead, he pulled at the waistband until the head was barely peeking out, letting a thumb run over the neglected slit. “I found out two weeks after I saw you in the flower shop.”

“So my eyes weren’t deceiving me,” Eliseo’s smile seemed to widen, a cat’s gaze now staring down at Damian as he grinned, “That was you and Christine outside the shop today.”

“Wha— fuck.” When had Eliseo gotten a hand around the shaft? He didn’t know, but feeling the way he squeezed it hard enough to cause a twinge of pain up his spine sent shivers throughout his entire body. Holding him by the dick, staring him down, Eliseo was in the prime position of power — and looked hot while doing it too. Eliseo’s fingers slowly massaged over the shaft, his fingers and hands noticeably more toned than the last time he had found himself in this position. “Eli…” He was able to softly groan, watching the way those blue eyes glittered and shined with such mirth that he swore that he was going to be swallowed whole right then and there.

“Been watching you,” Eliseo muttered, his free hand coming to the tip to swipe at the beading of pre as he slowly leaned back closer, the smell that was so intoxicatingly Eliseo filling Damian’s senses, his chest flaring with heat as he dug his nails into the seats, “you can’t hide that blue hair from me.” That god damn kitten lick, that fucking tongue ghosting out to lick at his bottom lip, it broke the man, grabbing Eliseo’s hips and throwing him down to the cushions underneath the two of them.

Eliseo may be confident when he was in control, but watching it melt away when he found himself in the bottom position was something else. He could smell and taste the nerves that bubbled to the surfaces and revelled in the look that flashed across Eliseo’s eyes as he tried to get back up, but a firm hand on the skin of his stomach was enough to make him still.

Eliseo had his fun, but now it was Damian’s turn.

Removing the hair tie that kept his corkscrew curls from his face, his hair came from the low ponytail to hang down, letting his fingers curl themselves into Eliseo’s hair as he tied it back, leaving those brown curls away from the blue eyes he wanted to stare at. “Perfect.” Eliseo may be already mostly bared for the world to see, but to see his face as he dragged his fingers down his unmarked chest? Even better.

“Dames?” Eliseo muttered, all the prior confidence in his voice gone, though as Damian’s fingers just so gently brushed over the nipples of Eliseo’s chest, he couldn’t help himself but to tug on them gently, a breathless gasp escaping from between Eliseo’s lips. He needed more. His hands ungracefully wandered over Eliseo’s body as he stole another kiss from the man, basking in the glow that came with hearing him moan directly against his lips. It never ceased to send shudders down Damian’s spine no matter how many nights he had spent with Eliseo under him, on top of him, beside him.

This man was one that he wanted to be with again, and again, and again, no matter how many times he would have to be found. Damian lost himself in the moment, his lips, his teeth, his fingers feeling every inch of Eliseo’s exposed skin, touching him, tasting him, marking him. Damian needed him to be marked, to be bitten, to be bruised, if he weren’t any of those things then how would the world know he was taken? He needed this tanned skin to speak a sinful truth, a devil’s hymn, hearing the way he stole Eliseo’s mind with each movement, feeling the way the man under him hardened in that pretty little thong that shimmered blue against his skin. Fuck, his own mind whirled as he allowed himself to finally bask in the moment. He had him in his hands, like putty.

And he didn’t have fucking lube.

“I know that face…” Eliseo muttered, his fingers coming to brush away some of the coils that framed his face, blue eyes staring down at the dark red that were his own, “don’t over think it, we’ve been in this situation before.” Too many times. Eliseo had a point, though, and he knew it with the way his blue eyes twinkled, yet his own eyes scanned over Eliseo’s body, taking in each bite and hickey that had begun to form on his skin. “Hm?” Eliseo muttered as Damian’s body slid further down his own, brows furrowing as he stayed focus on Damian.

Perfect. He wanted him to watch this. “You worked so hard up on that stage,” Damian could feel the grin grow onto his face as he spoke, his fingers slowly hooking themselves under the dainty straps that secured it to his hips, watching the way they curled as he slowly began to slide it down his legs, just enough to watch as his cock bounced from the restraints and into the open air, already beading itself with small bits of pre. Eliseo’s brain must have clicked right then and there on what was about to happen, the man sliding one of the cheap pillows to rest under his head as he watched, blue eyes shining slightly with interest. “Sit back and let me make you feel good.”

While Damian had his fair share of pleasing Eliseo with his mouth, this was the first time that it would be on a shitty couch that looked better than it felt, with Eliseo’s eyes half lidded and one of his legs coming to curl around his shoulders. Damian took a moment to appreciate the man in front of him. How gorgeous was he, with such a gorgeous stare and an even more gorgeous cock standing at attention right in front of him? It was like a work of art, especially as Damian allowed himself to lick a slow stripe on the underside, one that he could feel the way Eliseo’s thigh clenched near his head.

Perfect.

Oh so perfect.

“Damian…” Eliseo could go louder than that, he knew he could. With the music that played out in the main area and the distance they were, Damian wanted to hear that man scream his throat raw, even if it meant he would have to go hours for it.

“That’s it, that’s me.” Saliva gathered in Damian’s mouth, willing it to pool on his tongue before he spat some into his hand. Even if Eliseo muttered a soft ‘gross’ from above, he knew that it was at least better to use than nothing at all, especially as he began to slowly pump at the throbbing flesh, feeling the way it almost seemed to grow a bit more in his grasp. He was so easily pleased, no matter the time of day, yet hearing the soft gasps and whimpers that escaped Eliseo’s mouth at the sensation, he knew he hit the jackpot.

“Feels better when you do it.” Eliseo muttered just barely loud enough for him to hear, seeing the way the muscles in his belly grew taut at the struggle of not thrusting up into the warm hand that encompassed his cock. Damian could imagine all those nights where Eliseo would have to pleasure himself, probably thinking about the way he would touch him, and he couldn’t help but smile at the thought, lightly nuzzling his cheek into the thigh next to his head. “Do the thing with your thumb.”

Damian could feel his own throat vibrate slightly as he processed the request, his eyes drifting down to the darkened head of the cock in his hand, seeing the way the slit bubbled slightly with milky white that slowly mixed with the sweat on his skin. He didn’t need to even say words, placing the pad of his thumb over the slit and pushing down slightly — he would never get tired of seeing the way his back arched with that, the whine that escaped from Eliseo’s mouth in such a pretty whisper being one that he would save in his mind next to the other ones.

His own hardened shaft was beginning to chafe against his underwear and the seat under him, grunting slightly as he lifted his hips up just enough to rid himself of any fabric that could rub against it, the other massaging the slit on Eliseo, hearing the way the man uttered his name.

“That’s it, that’s my name.” He needed to taste him, to have the taste of sweat and Eliseo on his tongue, slowly replacing his hand with his mouth, he kept his eyes trained up on those gorgeous blue eyes as he took him all in. The taste, the smell, it was all him, mixed in with whatever perfume he wore that night. How had he been able to go so long without this taste on his tongue he didn’t know, but to have him now? It was a dream come true.

His heart was hammering in his chest, so full of emotion that he couldn’t place, but yet what man needed to have emotions named when he could follow the instinct of his cock? Yeah, that seemed about right.

Pretty faces, pretty emotions, he could feel how Eliseo’s fingers weaved themselves into his hair and pulled softly, Damian allowing his mouth to pull back with a satisfying pop, eyes half lidded as he stared up at the man. Eliseo’s face was flushed, sweat glistening his body in such a way that he looked like an angel laying there in a pile of sin, the lace of the underwear brushing slightly against his chin as he pressed a soft kiss to the underside of the shaft. “Yes?” Damian said, watching the way Eliseo’s mouth struggled to form words. If he wanted something, he needed to vocalise it, if he wanted it to be done, so be it. “I know you can speak, come on.” Shifting himself into a sitting position, well above Eliseo, he waited.

Yet he couldn’t stop his hands from resting upon his waist when Eliseo came to sit on his lap, the underwear brushing against his own cock and causing him to softly hiss. That felt nice, especially with the heat of their bodies, of the room, feeling the way his shirt stuck to the skin of his back as he sat there, looking up at Eliseo. “Baby?”

“It’s not fair I’m the only one feeling good.” Eliseo’s word was final, gathering some of his own spit into his palm, taking a short break from speaking. His voice was already so raw, so true, Damian able to hear the way it strained to keep itself even as Eliseo sat there, thinking carefully about his next move, “Keep me steady?” He didn’t need to ask twice, Damian’s hands anchoring the other man to the spot, one hand spreading its fingers over the small of Eliseo’s back as the other focused on his own goal.

“This position reminds me of the day I told you I love you.” Damian muttered, Eliseo’s hand pausing its movements, just barely touching both of their cocks as he waited, listening, “Apparently you wanted to fuck me so bad that you couldn’t even wait until we got back to my place.”

“You were the one that told that girl that you were ‘going to fuck your ass’.” Damian’s cheeks warmed at the memory, yet his chest remained hotter still at the way Eliseo threw his head back to laugh, the absurdity of that situation dawning on him as this was the exact position the two of them had been in on that night, where lube hadn’t yet been bought and emotions ran high. “Yes, I remember that, Damian.” And just like that night, Damian placed a gentle kiss to the Adam’s apple of his throat, stealing Eliseo’s breath away.

“Still think of that ni- fuck.” And Eliseo didn’t hesitate on stealing his, Damian letting out a low groan as he felt Eliseo’s hand hold them together, beginning to slowly pump at their warm flesh. The friction was delicious, the warmth so much, Damian allowing his face to nuzzle into Eliseo’s shoulder as he muttered soft praises to whatever god was above. This man was like a holy grail, so perfect and fine and so devilishly tempting — biting into whatever apple that had been behind that smile had been the best decision he had ever made.

No one could be like Eliseo, no one could even think about coming close enough to be him. Eliseo was the only Eliseo that he cared for and loved, feeling the way his nails began to dig themselves into the flesh of his hips and back. He needed to consume his scent, his taste, him, keep him close, never let him go. Nobody could take him away from Eliseo, no one could even dream about making him feel as good as the way he did, his tanned hand around his cock, his fingers brushing against the pulse on his neck.

Those pretty moans.

Fuck, he wanted to be inside of him now. He could imagine how tight he was, nobody else having come even close to staining the inside of Eliseo with their filthy cum; it was only him that could do that, only Damian himself that could dream of being inside of Eliseo here. Only Damian could feel the pleasure that came with being so close to Eliseo, to feel his hand and cock as they were pumped away, sending shudders and shivers down his back with each moment.

“As soon as I can,” Damian began to mutter into heated skin, hearing Eliseo’s pulse against his ear, “I’m going to fucking ruin you.” His words were strained, hard to get out with the way Eliseo teased him, baited him, held him, each word threatening to turn into a moan as he spoke. He needed to say this, to hear the way Eliseo’s heart beat paused at the idea. “Need to make you take me so fucking deep.” He could picture it now, the way Eliseo would be bouncing and crying and begging him to cum, maybe even with a pretty little choker on, one that would scream his name.

“Keep going…” Eliseo begged, his own words choked as he pressed a finger down against the prominent vein on Damian’s throbbing erection, “Tell me what you would do.”

How this man drove him wild with such simple words. His lips curled upwards, his teeth nipping at a bit of skin. Frankly, Eliseo was getting off easy; they still had to walk in public, he still had to show off most of his skin, he was so lucky that even if that outfit drove him wild that Damian had some restraint. As much as he wanted to suck and bite that beautiful skin black and blue, he would rather not draw attention to the two of them.

A hand went from Eliseo’s hip, gently trailing its way up his hip, his chest, letting his thumb gently graze over a perked nipple. “I would make you feel like such a prince before you descend into a screaming, crying mess, bathe you, feed you, then I would have you on your knees before me.”

He lost the ability to think about what he was going to say next after it, each word flowing from his lips like a waterfall. Fuck the ability to think, fuck the ability to even communicate the million thoughts into one comprehensible sentence, he needed to see that face as he came. He was going to make him scream and cry and beg for him to fuck him properly, even if the whole damn club could hear them. His hand easily shoved Eliseo’s away from their cocks, taking them into his sweaty spit slicked palm as he began to pump at them, the rhythm almost non-existent beyond the need to paint Eliseo’s stomach in a mixture of their white. Eliseo’s breath was like a bear, growling, grunting, the sharp point of each hitting Damian’s skin like a sharp fang, Damian’s fingers gripping so tight yet kept moving, kept pumping, rubbing, feeling that coil build up faster than he had ever found it before.

He really was no better than an animal, a rabbit, desperate to breed, desperate to fuck, his mind pulsing with each thought that rushed through his mind. Fuck, fuck, fuck, it was too fucking good, feeling the way his own cock throbbed and twitched before he finally came to his end, barely able to contain the groan that escaped his mouth before he sealed Eliseo’s lips in a searing, scorching kiss. A few more movements of his own hand and Eliseo was right there with him, their bodies trembling in their embrace as Damian savoured the feeling of the high. As the blood began to rush back to his brain, filling it with thoughts beyond fucking, Damian’s red eyes wandered Eliseo’s shuddering form once he had pulled back, his breath pinched by the moment and heavy, taking pride in each of the bite marks that were present along his shoulders, his neck, his chest.

He looked like such a good ruined man.

“Haven’t came like that in a while.” Eliseo’s first words came out in a soft chuckle, his lips shiny, bruised and red and yet his smile was still warm, trembling hands coming to cup Damian’s cheeks as he gave him a soft kiss. Compared to all the others, the ones filled with tongue, teeth and lust, this one was soft, calm, one that allowed his eyes to flutter shut as he allowed himself to push into it, letting the moment go by in such peace. “I missed you.”

“I knew you did.”

Damian didn’t need his coat, he could just carry it on the way out. Taking the jacket of the suit he had been wearing and using it to wipe up the mess, it was like pins and needles had overtaken his entire skin as it seemed to be so sensitive, too tender to brush, his spine tingling with little shocks of pain as he did so. Thank God he had decided to clean up, hearing a few knocks at the door as the two struggled to fix themselves to something decent, the same pimply-faced man that had bought them here poked his head in.

“Ah, good, you’re not fucking the dancer.” Were the manager’s only words as he removed himself, shutting the door behind him again.

The silence was deafening for a moment, the two of them turning their heads to slowly look at each other before snickers slowly begun, full blown laughter not too far off as Eliseo’s head dropped into the crook of Damian’s shoulder, the smell of sweat and sex hanging heavily in the air all the meanwhile. “I knew he was a virgin,” Eliseo began, blue eyes twinkling with mirth as he slowly pulled back, “he doesn’t even know what it looks like.”

Time was running out, the red card that had been left on the door being the indicator. Making sure that nothing struck out as odd, the two allowed their blood to cool, their breaths to even before they even thought of stepping out of the room.

“I’ll meet you outside in ten, yeah?”

“Wouldn’t dream of missing it.”

The air was cooler now that the sun had gone down, the street lights being the only thing that illuminated the space as Damian leaned against his car, rolling the cigarette between his fingers as he muttered under his breath. Despite the years he had been smoking, it was like he was a beginner every time he rolled a stick, the tobacco always finding a way to not stay completely within the paper, making his brow twitch in frustration. “Damn it…”

“I thought you stopped smoking?”

The cigarette dropped onto the bonnet as Damian cursed, allowing himself to turn around to face Eliseo where he stood. Outside of the club, up close, Damian couldn’t help but notice that his sweater was a bit bigger than what he normally would wear, Damian’s hands balled into fists behind him. “That’s my sweater.” It had been, back when he hadn’t been the head of a mafia, back when he and Eliseo were able to have a little bit of more freedom to do what they wanted, but the sauce stain on the collar was new, Eliseo’s blue eyes seeming to pop against the maroon. Shaking his head slightly, he focused back on Eliseo’s question, feeling how his fingers began to throb with pain as he uncurled them. “Bad habit.”

Eliseo's hand raised and Damian reached for it, but Eliseo passed him to pluck the cigarette from the bonnet before working it between his fingers, the paper and tobacco melding together into one. Eliseo worked quickly and swiftly, placing the butt of it between Damian’s lips before he could even protest.

No words were needed between the two, Damian picked up his lighter before letting the embers burn, the first hit of the nicotine hitting Damian’s lungs like a tidal wave, the relief that settled into his bones spreading through his entire body. The hit of the cigarette was a high that slowly ebbed away as he allowed the smoke slowly billowed out from his nostrils, away from Eliseo who took a spot next to him. The silence passed like a ticking clock, Damian working through his cigarette, allowing his fingers to slowly work their way into Eliseo’s.

He missed nights like this.

No talking, no discussion, just allowing the two of them to bask in each other’s presence, allowing for them to just exist without talking, just touching, just looking, Damian’s thumb slowly grazing the back of Eliseo’s knuckles. Only a few minutes ago, or at least it felt like it, they were going at it like wild animals, screaming, crying, looking at each other for the first time in what felt like years. “I’m sorry.” Eliseo’s words cut through that silence, Damian’s head snapping to look down at him. Sorry? He could hear Eliseo gulp slightly, watching the way tears caught on his lashes in the starlit moonlight. “I shouldn’t have ran away. I’m a coward.”

Damian’s grip tightened slightly on Eliseo, the cigarette falling from his mouth and onto the wet concrete below, his foot stubbing out the ember as Damian forced Eliseo closer, smelling the remnants of what shampoo hadn’t been washed away by the smell of sex, smoke and whisky from the club. Damian couldn’t even make a sentence in his mind or push one from his mouth, his arms sneaking their way around Eliseo’s waist, his chin resting on top of his head.

“You don’t have to be sorry for anything,” Damian’s mouth was dry, the words slowly wavering as they came, “You weren’t born into this life.” He shouldn’t even need to have to worry about him not coming home. He could feel the veins in his neck slightly bulge as he thought about the fear that went through Eliseo’s mind every day, at the concerns that had probably bubbled up when he was in prison… Eliseo, oh Eliseo, how did he deal with it?

He could hear Eliseo breathe in, his shoulders shuddering, though as he looked up at him to speak the sounds of gunshots rang out. Screaming, rushing people and the sound of platforms hitting the concrete as a familiar head of white hair came sprinting out the front door. “Start the fucking car!” How she ran in those stripper heels, Damian didn’t know, but Christ this wasn’t something he had expected now.

“Chrissy?”

Damian’s eyes bulged as he opened the passenger door, shoving Eliseo in, throwing open one of the back doors before he slid over the bonnet of the car and into the driver’s side, jamming the keys into the ignition and hearing the car roar to life as Christine flew into the car, the door slamming right behind her. “Drive!” Tires screeched and the engine roared as Damian pulled out of the parking lot, hearing the chaotic beeps of other cars as he tore down the road, most likely leaving burn marks on the blackened road.

His left-hand side mirror was taken out by a bullet, Eliseo yelled as it shattered, shards of glass hitting the window.

“What the fuck Christine?” Damian finally shouted once he ensured he had control of the car, using a hand to shove Eliseo towards the floor, his own head low as he swerved through traffic, glancing into the rearview mirror every once in a while to look at the cars behind them, “I thought you were hanging low?”

“I was!” Christine said in a huff, her makeup running down her face from sweat as she lay in the back seat, Damian taking note of the handprint mark that had begun to form on her pale skin and the torn clothes she wore. “I wasn’t planning on getting into this situation either!”

A driver laid down their horn as Damian cut them off, the side road that cut through buildings smelling like the sewer as they drove through, Eliseo’s blue eyes staring wide up at him. Fuck, great, perfect way of being together with him only an hour after getting him back; get stuck in a possible car chase and hopefully not get your head blown off.

“Christy, what did you do?” Damian began to slow once he didn’t see anyone following them, Eliseo and Christine, who began to nervously giggle, rising further up their seats, Christine’s fake colour eyes staring at him in the rearview mirror. “Christine.”

“I may have…” Her words slowly descended into mumbles, her gaze filtering away from the mirror before Damian called her name again with more venom in his voice, Christine’s back straightening at the simple uttering of her name. Oh, he was going to kill her. “I kicked Fergus in the balls.”

Before Damian could allow the cuss words to fly, Eliseo cut in, his face turning to look at Christine with a smile as he said, “Good, been wanting to do that for a while myself.” As fast as Damian’s mouth had opened, it gaped like a fish, red eyes taking a moment to stare at Eliseo before staring back at the road, slowly driving around a cat that seemed to want to stay in the middle of the road. “He grab you?”

“Yep.”

That explained the handprint. Letting his heart settle, the roaring pound of it vibrating his chest with each thunderous beat, Damian’s fingers slowly loosened from around the wheel, the death grip he had causing them to throb as the blood flowed back into his fingertips. He didn’t know how long he had been driving until he found himself in front of his home, cutting the engine as he sat in silence for a moment, allowing the situation to simmer in his mind. That had been close, way too close, staring back at Christine in the back mirror as she slowly raised something into his view.

A phone.

“I also got some blackmail.” Watching as she flicked open the phone’s top, her eyes looking down at the screen, she began to idly tap away at the stolen phone as he turned to Eliseo, seeing how he sat in the seat, his fingers gripping onto his pants tight despite the smile that was on his face.

“Eliseo?” Damian gently cooed, reaching out to grasp his hand, watching as Eliseo’s fingers slowly released the fabric to grip onto his, giving a gentle squeeze, “I’m sorry—.”

“I was planning on quitting for a while anyway.” Eliseo cut in, blue eyes staring at him. That’s right, this wasn’t the same Eliseo that had hid behind him before he had gone to prison, this Eliseo had gone and chased his own desires and wants, had been dancing in clubs in order to make a living. This man couldn’t be scared off that easily, raising his hand to give a gentle kiss at his fingers. “I’m going to call the owner tomorrow, tell him not to roster me on anymore.” So confident, and forward, Damian could feel as his eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled.

What a man.

“So, you guys just going to stare at each other all night?” Christine’s face came into view, her contacts gone as she looked between the two men, “I’m feeling like take out, you guys want Chinese?”

“You’re buying it.”

“You’re so mean!”

Twenty minutes away, in the depths of what belonged to the Aftons, Fergus grumbled as he sat in the club, the people emptied out as Felix passed him an ice pack. “Stupid bitch…”

“Doesn’t seem that stupid if she was able to get the upper hand on you, fellow.” Felix’s golden eyes glittered in the dark as he spoke, almost seeming to dance around the space as he went to and from tables, picking up whatever scraps of food he could find, “A bit foolish to go after another esteemed gang, don’t you think?”

“Fuck off.”

Felix’s shoulders shrugged upwards as he scraped a plate of its nachos, the man not seeming to care about the hostility that came from Fergus’s throat, nor the gun that remained loaded by his side. He knew that if Fergus even thought of shooting at him that he would have to deal with Baby herself.

Though the thought of filleting the larger man was tempting, his nails were freshly manicured, holding them up to the light as he allowed himself to examine the pretty paint. “She could have done worse,” he muttered to himself, running his tongue over his bottom lip, “that woman’s as crazy as us.”

Making his way to the man, Felix finally helped Fergus to his feet, stepping over dead bodies as he helped him to the door. This place wasn’t anything special anyway, well, to Felix it wasn’t, his boots leaving trails across the floor as the blood flowed and pooled.

As long as Felix wasn’t going to get in trouble for causing chaos on what was meant to be neutral property, then he was fine with this.

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