Come on. Come ON.
The bathroom was small. White tile. A window made of frosted glass that let in light but no view. A sink with a ceramic basin and a huge mirror above it and his own reflected face staring back at him with eyes that wouldn’t cooperate.
He tried the breathing. The four-count in, seven-count hold, eight-count out that Lilac taught him in the first months of living at the Collective, sitting on her porch with her scentless void anchoring him while he fought against faulty suppressants and Orion being in heat again. It usually worked. The void was the key—the absence of input, the blank space his nervous system could rest against while it recalibrated.
Lilac wasn’t here. There was no void. The air was scrubbed clean of everything except the ghost of lavender and Cass’s scent and the faint smell of slick
Don’t.
The Berserker instinct always had opinions when the gold was up and his body was flooded with a cocktail of rage and fear that turned every synapse into a lit fuse. The options it presented were straightforward: violence or sex. Destroy something or fuck something. Two channels for the same pressure, and since there was nothing in the bathroom to destroy that wouldn’t blow their cover, the Berserker was increasingly enthusiastic about option two.
No. We are not doing that. We are getting the gold out of our eyes before tonight because if Matthias sees—
And then the door opened and Cass was standing in the doorway.
His cheeks were flushed pink with a warmth that had nothing to do with crying and everything to do with the thing Riot’s body had been tracking since the cellar—the low, persistent heat that hadn’t fully broken.
Option two, option two, you want option two—
“Can I help?” Cass asked softly, a little rough from the crying, and he began to pull at the tie on his robes.
“Cass, I—” The words came out too low, filled with the gold-edge that lived in his chest instead of his throat. “You don’t have to—”
“I’m not—this isn’t because I have to.” Cass stepped into the bathroom. “I want it for me. I want to—to do s—” He swallowed. “To do sex.”
Do sex.
The part of Riot that was drowning in fear and the desire to tear Springfield Gardens apart with his bare hands hearddo sexand wanted to laugh.
Where did you learn that? Was it Sage? I’m going to ask you later. I’m going to ask you and you’re going to blush and I’m going to—
Cass’s hand found the front of his own robe and pulled the fabric open to reveal his thin undershirt and linen pants sitting low on his hips. His good hand was shaking. His eyes were scared and wanting as he offered himself the way he offered everything: completely and without a net.
“Please,” Cass said. “I want to feel close to you again.”
Riot let go of the sink.
He crossed the space between them and grabbed Cass, spinning them and kissing him hard enough to push him back against the basin. Cass gasped into his mouth—the cold ceramic edge against his lower back, Riot’s size pinning him.
Riot’s hands slid under Cass’s shirt, feeling the warmth of his skin and the ridges of the scars he hated under his palms, but still touched gently because they were part of Cass’s body, and Cass’s body was the most important surface in the world. His thumbs found the lowest scars, the ones on his hips, and Cass groaned.
“Off,” Riot said against his mouth. “Get these off.”
Cass worked the waistband down over his hips, and Riot helped with the underwear, dragging them down Cass’s thighs, and when his hand brushed between Cass’s legs, the slick was already dripping and coated Riot’s fingers. His cock twitched hard enough to make his vision blur.
Take him. Now. Bend him over the sink and—
Not yet.
“I can’t—I don’t think I can stay quiet,” Cass whispered, pressing his face against Riot’s neck, his words vibrating against the bite mark as he pulled at the bottom of Riot’s tunic.
“You don’t have to.” Riot yanked his tunic off so fast he was certain he heard some seams pop.
“The walls are thin. If someone hears—”
“Then we’ll be very spiritual about it.” He tilted Cass’s chin up and kissed him, working one of Cass’s arms free from his robesand he pressed him further back against the sink. “Elysians are always making transcendent noises. You’ll blend right in.”
Cass’s laugh turned into another gasp as Riot’s hand slid between his legs, stroking his cock a few times before dipping lower to circle his entrance. “How close do you want to feel, princess? This close?” Riot whispered as he slowly pushed a finger inside.
