Chapter Text
Trying not to think about how little is left in my wallet, I delicately place a bill on bar.
The jagged glowing teeth feel like they could close on me without a second thought and I know I've been nursing my drink far longer than reasonable. The night is empty and still - if I didn't know better I'd swear time itself had stopped and I'm just spinning in my own misery.
"I'll get you your change." A brisk voice clips at me as the money disappears into the hands of an older woman.
"It's all yours." I reply and she gives me a slight nod. Sliding off the barstool, I throw on my jacket, aware of the eyes that follow as I turn towards the door.
Why did it have to be here? This place. This completely shitty place? The edges of my brother's photograph burn a hole in my wallet. Why did this have to be the last place that idiot was seen? I push open the door and the air is lifeless. The parking lot is a ghost town, and shadows from dull lampposts stain the concrete beneath my feet.
"You hoping to run into someone specific?" An unfamiliar voice rings behind me and I gasp despite myself.
"Jesus -" I turn to tell the asshole to fuck right off when his frame fills my vision. His stance makes me grip my purse and pull at my jacket. His mouth presses into a line and he flicks his cigarette into the air.
"Nah, Jesus isn't around much these days. He wouldn't fancy you confusing him with the likes of me, either." He steps towards me and instinctively I step back.
"Can I help you with something?" I ask, cursing my brother and every shitty decision he's made that led me to this moment. The man laughs with a smile that doesn't reach his eyes.
"I'm thinking you're the one who needs help from me." There's something dark in his voice and I don't know if I should run or head back into the bar. I can start to feel my heart racing within my chest - please don't murder me. Not tonight.
"I'm good. Thanks." My voice sounds a whisper. I take another step back before turning and walking with great determination towards my car. I get closer and grip my keys when he speaks again.
"You forgot something." His voice sounds close behind me, and I pause. I shove my hand into my purse, fingers sliding over receipts and Chapstick until I grip the bear spray I swore I wouldn't need. Turning to face him, he lifts his palm. With a quick movement of his hand a small piece of paper appears.
As he moves the paper between his fingers, he never looks away from me. Maybe that's why it takes me so long to realize the paper is my brother's photo. His dumb face disappearing and reappearing with every flick of my soon-to-be murderer's hands.
"Where did you get that?" I know it couldn't have fallen out of my wallet but I'm too afraid to look.
"You've been here late all week." He says, motioning to the bar and ignoring my question. He steps towards me again. I can smell the beer on him from where I stand. I'm also pretty sure there's blood on his shirt.
"Aren't you a little too clean for a place this dirty?" His eyes narrow and as he flexes his hand the photo disappears.
This is for sure how I die. "So you're a magician? Pick-pocket?" I try to continue but my throat closes and I look around to see if there's anyone I can scream to.
"None of the above," he smirks, "but I know when someone's luck has run out."
His grin makes my brain light up with fear.
"I don't have any money," I blurt out, "please, I just...please just let me leave."
His brow furrows. "Money?" He mulls the word over more than he asks a question. He moves his hands - with a snap a coin bounces in the air and lands at my feet.
"I don't want your money." He drawls, his eyes burning through me. As his jaw clenches, my chest tightens. The stages of grief passing through me - denial, anger, bargaining...jumping to acceptance.
"Please don't hurt me." I say, and feel tears in my eyes and I hate that I'm scared and that I'm here at all.
My vision blurs and I hear him swear under his breath.
"If I wanted to hurt you, you'd be hurt." His tone is much more jovial than you'd think was appropriate, and I blink to look up at him, confusion and fear surely written on my face.
Almost exasperated, he snaps and my brother's photo returns to his grip. "I think I know where to find him. And can help you get there."
Nodding like an idiot, I clear my throat and try to casually start over.
"Why didn't you start with that?" I ask rhetorically, and cross my arms, breathing too deeply.
"Where is he? I need to find him." I try to sound less desperate than I am.
"He's around. Not going to be easy for you to waltz in and chat, looking like that." He motions to my dress and pulls out a cigarette.
"You got a place to go tonight?" He asks. As I take a breath to answer he chimes in for me.
"Nah, you don't, do you? Come on, then." He starts walking down the road, and I follow a step behind him.
"What about my car?" I ask.
"It will be there in the morning."
The smoke from his cigarette wafts over me and I cough. He mumbles something under his breath and reaches back for my arm, pulling me up beside him by the cuff of my jacket. Out of the smoke's path, I risk a glance up at him. His face is unreadable and his red hair under the occasional light almost glows. I have to walk twice as fast to match his pace.
Now that he's beside me it's obvious how tall he is. His leather jacket does little to conceal the width of his frame - it's a bit like walking next to an insane giant. Assuming he's not walking me to my death, it's almost reassuring to have him between me and road. The fact that he's the best lead I've had is equal parts elating and pathetic.
"Home sweet home." He says as he turns onto a walkway a few blocks from the bar. The stones disappear into darkness and I stop, fear creeping into me once more. He looks back at me and snuffs out his cigarette.
"You're like a bucket of blood in a shark tank out here." With that he continues down the path and I follow without another word.
The air changes from stale to crisp. Fresh earth and dew fills my lungs as I hear him open a door in near darkness. I step inside and without warning light fills the space and I blink, taking in the raw wood floors and the smell of pine.
He shrugs off his jacket, tossing it onto a chair. His arms seem more imposing than I could have imagined. I turn away and place my purse on the floor. Feeling flush, I take off my jacket. look around and try to act less awkward than I feel. I'm not betting that it's a successful endeavour.
I want to ask where my brother is, how I can get to him or how he managed to stalk me for a week without me noticing but instead I ask, "So, are you going to tell me how you did that magic trick." I wiggle my fingers as I speak, much to my horror.
"Not a magic trick." He replies, taking off his shirt and cracking his neck. I don't mean to, but I nearly fall back at the sight of him. I look away and try to find a neutral expression for my face. I'm certain that I fail.
"What are you doing, are you crazy?" I ask and he tsks at my words.
"I don't mind if you look." He says with a confidence I'll never know.
"Oh, I wasn't -"
"Yeah you were. Don't worry, I'm looking at you too."
I can't even find a word to say. Mouth open, I ignore the heat filling my body and I try to shake my head as if that would undo the last 30 seconds.
"Do you know what you are?" He asks, and I barely register that he's come to stand in front of me.
"Very confused." I manage, and he laughs, scanning my face like it might answer for me.
"You have something," he whispers and motions closely to my chest, "that a lot of people want." My blood freezes and my chest burns where his fingers hover. This is the first familiar thing I've heard all week.
"You sound like my brother." I choke out, more certain than ever that this stranger does know that stupid irresponsible ass. My brother's rambling and nonsensical rants suddenly fill my memory.
"Then your brother must be a smart man." He smirks and I jump as my back hits the wall behind me. He's close enough that I think I feel the heat from his body.
"Who are you?" I ask, not sure I even know what answer I'm looking for.
"Someone who's been waiting for you." He runs his hand across his mouth and I feel myself pressing deeper into the wall.
"I don't think I'm who you think I am." I say, my voice more bold than before.
"Oh I know exactly who you are. Before you even entered the bar. Before you were born, I reckon." He doesn't get any closer and I look away from him, towards the stories - the fantasies - that my brother would slur to me as he slumped in front of his toilet, bottle in hand.
"And just my luck - you're actually meant for for me." This time when he speaks he sounds in awe. I look up and his eyes meet mine with less aggression than before.
"I'm not meant for anyone." I say, tentatively standing up as straight as I can. He laughs lightly, rubbing his jaw. Placing his hands on the wall around me, he dips down and studies my face.
"Want me to show you?" He asks, and I feel my mouth slack. I can feel a rush through my veins and a tightness through my body.
"I don't think that is a good idea." I say, shaking slightly under his gaze.
"It's the only idea." He says with a laugh. He looks down at me and his head tilts, waiting for me to speak, but I cannot find a word in the blur of skin around me.
"Do you trust me?" He asks.
"No," I scoff, "I don't."
"Well, you're smarter than most." He says, stepping back and crossing his arms in front of his chest.
"Do us both a favour and touch me." He says like he's inviting me to join him for tea. I laugh now, unable to tell if he's serious.
"What?"
"Touch me. Anywhere you like." He shrugs his shoulders and runs his tongue over his teeth behind his lips. He really is crazy.
"Touch you," I ask, "for what reason?"
"So you can see for yourself why I want you to." He answers like it's the most natural thing to say in the world. Certain he'll be let down with the outcome, I hear a half-laugh, half-huff escape me.
"Yeah, why not. Everything else has been totally normal up to this point, why should I start asking questions now." I say more to myself than to him, who's mouth twists down in thought.
"Don't be so sure of what you're not sure of." He tosses the advice into the space between us and my eyes narrow. With little more than a shrug I extend my finger towards his crossed arms.
"This is the most pointless-" my throats drops to my stomach as my finger presses into him. It feels like a lightning bolt through my arm and I feel an unmistakable ache between my legs. I pull my hand back like I've been burned.
Looking up at him, his eyes are heavy. His head rolls back and with a desperate tone he steps towards me. What was that?
"Do it again." He asks, standing a hair's width away. I start to say no when I realize I don't want to. His hands at his sides, I move to run my fingers against his arm. The initial touch takes my breath away.
Sliding along the length of his arm, I feel his muscles tighten and release as a wave of heat flows through me. It's electric. I feel him brace himself against the wall and I realize my eyes are closed, a sigh of pleasure leaves my lips and I press myself against him.
"Fuck." He grinds out, vibrating against me. As my hand reaches his shoulder I realize I can feel him, hard as concrete, against my stomach. The ache within me tightens and I press harder against him, desperate for him to touch me. Jesus, what am I doing?
I pull back, a cry of pleasure still in my throat. What the fuck. I look up at him, my hand moving to cover my mouth.
"What is that?" I ask.
"That's you," he breathes, voice low, "that's us."
I am still for what feels like eternity. Just breathing and trying to remember a time before the only thing that mattered was his skin against mine.
"Kiss me." He demands, his face close to my own. Out of sheer desire and impatience, I square my shoulders.
"If you want it so badly, why don't you take it?" I barely recognize my voice as I meet his eyes. His face twists into a wicked grin and he squares himself right back, his height and closeness pinning me without ties.
"I'd much rather you to give it to me." His smirk strikes through my body and I feel it in my knees.
What a cocky little shit. I feel like I could jump out of my skin, but instead I run my hands through my hair, trying to maintain whatever composure I thought I had. He's too tall to reach his mouth from where I stand, and I nearly groan in frustration. Without hesitation I press my arms around his neck and lean into his inhuman electricity. He sways on his feet and I run a hand through his hair, tugging slightly as my body wavers against him. His head falls towards me and I tilt myself to meet his lips with blinding heat.
I slide my mouth over his, feeling every atom of friction at my core. The roughness of his beard lights me on fire. His arms stay at his side and I kiss him harder, more desperate than I've ever been in my life just to feel him touch me. The tension inside me reaches an unbearable peak and I press harder against him, the contact sending a shock through my entire body. I break away as I moan into his neck, and suddenly there is emptiness. It takes me a moment to realize he's stepped back and my hands are shaking at my sides. The look on his face is of pure desire, and I nearly pinch myself to stop staring at the strain against his pants.
"My turn." He says as he grabs me by the hips, my back hitting the wall with a delicious thud. His mouth finds mine with ferocity and all I think is yes. Grinding himself into me I wrap my legs around him and swear against his mouth. A hand grips the hair at the base of my head, the other slides up my body gripping my breast too harshly but all I feel is overwhelming pleasure. His grip tightens and I cry out, desperate for more. He leans back, his impressive length pressed against me and I brace my hands on his shoulders. He tugs at my sundress, unceremoniously pulling it over my head and sending it to the floor in a deft movement. His hand reaches around and snaps open my bra, the touch causing me to arch into him. I gasp at the cold air against my chest, and a guttural noise rises in his throat. He twists my underwear around his hand and pulls, the fabric burning against my thigh.
He takes me by the mouth and I ache at the taste of him. His mouth never leaving mine, he unhooks my legs and holds me so my feet just touch the floor. I feel my underwear fall and his hand runs over me in it's place. I nearly scream at the sensation and instinctively grip him tighter, the sensation is almost unbearable.
"I need you." I whisper in between gasps, embarrassed and shocked at the words coming out of my mouth. Maybe I am the insane one. I can feel him smile as he gently ghosts over my skin, running his fingers from my belly button down in between my legs. They nearly give out at his touch. I don't think I can take another second of the void I feel inside me and I try to unbuckle his belt, sliding to my knees.
His hand moves over his belt, the sound of metal filling my ears. Mercifully, the belt opens and I pull at his pants, freeing the incredible and incredibly hard cock I've been feeling against me. I run a hand over his length, feeling his skin buzz beneath my hand. I can't even wait to run my tongue over the head, slowly taking him in my mouth with a groan. His hands grip my hair as his hips buck into me, my head against the wall. Feeling him in my mouth is almost too much to bear. He swears loudly and I pull back, his dick covered with my spit. He pulls me up by the hair.
"I want to hear you say it." He says as I try to focus on his face. His voice is low and grip tightens. It feels like I'm drunk, the way I can barely focus on the world spinning around me. Somehow I know what he's asking, and I don't know how.
"I am for you." I say, my hands running over him, pulling him closer.
"Again."
"I am for you." I beg, and he lifts me off the floor by the hips once more, his slick cock between us.
"I am for you." He answers, pulling back and placing himself at my entrance.
My nails are in his back, my head hits the wall and he presses into me without hesitation. The fullness makes me scream out, his length searing inside me. He swears and grabs at me, a single thrust pushes me into the wall and I feel myself tightening around him. Fuck. I've never felt this intensity in my life. He pulls out and his hips buck right back into me and I feel my body shake around him. I'm going to come, I can feel the pressure take over and I struggle to catch my breath. He slides out, it's almost painful, and with a deep thrust I explode. I feel myself tighten uncontrollably and I can't breathe. His mouth on my neck, I feel him fuck me through waves of pleasure. He bites the skin where neck meets shoulder and it burns beautifully. As he moves inside me, I feel myself tightening again, unbelievable pressure begging for release.
"Oh god." I gasp as he moves faster, his cock buried in me with every movement. His hands fall to my hips, ensuring every thrust hits me as deep as possible it almost hurts. For a second I think he might fuck a hole right through me. I writher between him and the wall, a desire to be closer rewriting itself onto every thought I have. He slams into me, my scream ringing in my ears as I lose control. I feel him join me, his pace rushed and uneven. As he groans, he presses deep inside of me, his cock throbbing with every pulse as he empties himself into me.
A minute or an hour passes as we hold each other, shaking and gripping onto whatever flesh we can. He presses his lips into my hair, breathing deeply and I sigh. Warmth and happiness fill me, and soon we slide to the floor. When he pulls out a small sound of loss is on my lips. He pulls me close against him on the floor, vice grip around my waist. My eyes flutter closed, and darkness closes in around me.
I don't even know his name.