14. Nico
“So, we’re gonna kill these guys, right?” Nico asked.
It was much quieter in the living room with the kids asleep. Jericho sat on one side of the L-shaped sofa, Freckles perched on the arm beside him. Levi and Shiloh had taken over the recliner, Shiloh sitting between Levi’s open legs. They’d had their blanket privileges revoked by Jericho after the handjob incident, a topic that still made Shiloh turn purple with mortification.
Nico sat on the other side of the couch with Mal laid out beside him, head on his thigh and feet in Seven’s lap.
“Look, I’m usually all for revenge, but this isn’t some local gang. These are triad members,” Levi said, looking a little pale.
“So, what?” Nico snapped, adrenaline surging through him. “We just let them get away with it? Then we look weak and we never find out what happened to Amy. Casey can’t live with Calliope and Lola forever, you know.”
“That’s not what I’m saying,” Levi said. “I’m just saying, we need to think carefully before we go to war with the triad.”
Levi was right. Of course, he was. But that didn’t mean Nico had to like it. They’d beaten up Mal. They’d just walked right into his dance studio and tased him. What if they’d had a gun? What if they’d stabbed him? If they didn’t do something, they would look weak. And Casey deserved to know what happened to her mother.
“Levi’s right,” Mal said. “They said the Dai Lo knows about us. That means this goes way beyond the local syndicate. Right, Jericho?”
Jericho nodded. “They could be bluffing. But we have to go on the assumption they’re not. If we take out the two guys who beat up Mal, they’ll retaliate and they’ll make sure they hit back ten times harder to send a message. They’ll start dropping bodies in the most gruesome way possible.”
“What I don’t get,” Mal said, “is why they think we’re hiding her. We asked about her at the market place. Wouldn’t that mean we didn’t know either?”
Nico shrugged. “Maybe they didn’t ask? Or maybe Lisa lied to them. Or maybe they just didn’t believe her?”
“Then where the fuck is Amy?” Mal asked, frustration leaching into his tone. “We know she wouldn’t leave Casey. But the triad can’t find her either. Are we supposed to believe there’s a third person at play here?”
“Well, what do we know for sure?” Atticus asked. “When you spoke to the girl at the diner, what exactly did she tell you about the locals?”
Nico froze, his brain grinding to a halt. What had she said? He could barely remember a word of that conversation. He had the worst fucking memory. He should have recorded the meeting.
“The local crew is the GTB or Ghost Talon Brotherhood—” Mal started.
“Shit, that’s a really cool name,” Seven muttered.
Nico bit back a grin but Mal didn’t skip a beat. “They’re a smaller faction of a much larger gang out of Hong Kong. The Red Lotus Clan. The GTB are out here trying to prove to their elders that they can make something of themselves here.”
“Your memory is crazy,” Nico said, staring down at Mal in awe.
Mal beamed at him, then winced, tapping on the cut on his lip. “The guy in charge is the son of the Dai Lo, Liang Wei, aka Leo. Lisa said he’s dumb and mean.”
“What’s a Dai Lo again?” Shiloh asked.
“The boss,” Nico said. “Supposedly, he’s real scary.”
Mal nodded. “Leo apparently fucked up back in Hong Kong and was sent here to prove himself. His daddy clearly didn’t trust him with something as big-ticket as drugs or trafficking, so they’re dealing counterfeit goods at the marketplace. But, apparently, he isn’t doing much better here. Lisa said he fucked up by trying to ‘expand’ too fast and is now in over his head. He has the twins in charge.”
“The twins?” Shiloh asked.
“They’re brothers,” Nico explained, “but not actually twins. People call them that so they can shit talk them without getting in trouble.”
“Gangsters, they’re just like us,” Seven mocked, shaking his head.
Mal brought the conversation back around. His eyes were closed. “The Zhao brothers. Over here, they go by Jason and Frankie. Supposedly, they look similar enough to be mistaken for twins but, like Nico said, are not actually twins. Leo brought in Jason to try to fix his mistakes because, apparently, the Dai Lo has a hard-on for him in particular and he thought that might earn him some grace with daddy.”
Nico was shocked by Mal’s level of recall. Did having his eyes closed help with that? But then, he was always a walking encyclopedia. He recalled the most obscure information with startling accuracy, almost like he was reading it from a book. Nico wasn’t sure if it could be called an eidetic memory like August’s but it had to be close.
“Okay, so, Leo is the son of this Dai Lo guy and he’s in charge. Jason and Frankie are his minions, and the Dai Lo likes Jason,” Seven said. “Do I have it right?”
Mal nodded. “Yeah, Lisa said Jason is smart but Frankie is a psychopath, who is currently running his own crew of mini-psychopaths, including the guy who Casey killed trying to defend herself.”
“She also said that the rumor was that Amy had killed Eric and run away with Casey because Leo was planning to kidnap her to keep Amy compliant,” Nico added.
“They were going to kidnap her kid to keep her working? That’s fucking diabolical,” Seven said. “Like, don’t they just sell knock-off handbags?”
“That’s what I said, too,” Nico said. “But, apparently, some of these handbags go for, like, half a million dollars at auction, so…I guess it’s lucrative and Amy was the best of the best when it came to recreating these bags. Like good enough to fool experts. You can imagine how much money could be made if Amy was capable of creating exact replicas of in-demand bags.”
“But Amy didn’t want to keep making the bags?” Shiloh asked. “Is that why they wanted to take Casey? Do people…do that? Just hold kids indefinitely? That seems like a dumb business model. Just saying.”
Mal smirked at his brother’s assessment. “Lisa thought the goal was just to hold Casey until Amy finished training the other seamstresses in their workshops.”
“Workshops or sweatshops?” Levi asked, his disgust evident.
Seven shook his head. “We all know the answer to that.”
“So, the guy Casey killed was coming to kidnap her to bring her to…Leo?” Jericho asked.
“We don’t know that for a fact. It’s just a rumor,” Nico said.
“You don’t think it’s true?” Mal asked, glancing up at him.
Nico shrugged, sinking his fingers into Mal’s curls, scratching blunt nails across his scalp to keep his hands busy. “I don’t know, but something is…off. If Eric was Frankie’s guy, why would Leo trust him with such an important task? Lisa made it sound like Leo didn’t even want Frankie in his crew but took him because Jason wouldn’t go without him. Wouldn’t Leo have sent one of Jason’s men to get Casey?”
“So, are you saying that Leo didn’t give the order? That Frankie had ulterior motives?” Jericho asked.
“Lisa also said there was a rumor that Amy had an issue with one of the twins harassing her and that she went to Leo and complained. Maybe they wanted to hurt Casey as revenge?” Mal posited.
“We don’t know which twin was harassing her,” Nico said before anyone could ask.
“So, someone’s lying,” Atticus mused.
Jericho frowned up at his husband. “What do you mean, Freckles?”
Atticus stood and started to pace the room. “By all accounts, Amy would never leave without Casey, so she didn’t take off on her own. But the rumors are that Casey and Amy ran, which means that the GTB didn’t hurt her. If they had, they wouldn’t be wasting manpower looking for her. But someone went to the apartment that night looking for either Casey or Amy. That means either someone in the organization is lying or someone outside the group took her and that seems like a bizarre coincidence.”
Jericho considered that. “You think someone in the GTB knows what happened to Amy?”
“We need to find out who’s in charge of the two guys who beat up Mal,” Nico said.
“Why’s that?” Levi asked.
Nico huffed out a sigh, his head throbbing. “We know that Leo controls Jason and Frankie, and that Jason and Frankie have their own crews. Whoever controls the two assholes who beat up Mal can be ruled out as a suspect. There’s no reason for them to waste time dispatching two guys to beat up Mal for hiding Amy if they know for a fact where Amy is. It just doesn’t track.”
“How do you propose we find out who they work for?” Seven asked.
“Easy,” Atticus said, a cold smile spreading across his handsome face. “We ask them.”
The pure malice behind Atticus’s tone reminded Nico that before Freckles became a husband and father, he used to torture and kill people on a regular basis. It was hard to believe until times like this.
“So, our working theory is what?” Jericho asked. “That one of the twins is lying?”
“Well, like Freckles said, it would be a really weird coincidence if some random third person just happened to do something to Amy when there was a gang breathing down her neck,” Nico said. “One of the twins is a good place to start.”
“But what about the blow back?” Seven chimed in. “The only reason they haven’t come after us for Eric is because someone believes Amy is the killer. If we snatch those two losers off the street and torture them, we’re going to war with not just the GTB but the Red Lotus Clan. Is that something we’re prepared for?”
Atticus sighed, then pulled his phone from his pocket. He pressed a button then put it on speakerphone and waited patiently while it rang.
“Who’s dead?” a voice on the other side said cheerily.
“You know, I liked you better when I thought you were a drunk and not James Bond,” Atticus grumbled.
Archer. Why was he calling Archer?
“Whatcha need, bro?” Archer asked fondly. “I know you’re not calling cause you miss me.”
Atticus went to return to his seat on the arm of the couch, but Jericho snagged him, pulling him into his lap. “I need a meeting with the Dai Lo of the Red Lotus Clan out of Hong Kong. Any of your buddies have a contact?”
Nico shot a startled glance at Mal and then Jericho. “What is he doing?” he asked in a frantic stage-whisper.
“What he always does,” Jericho answered. “Going straight to the source.”
Archer hesitated for a count of ten, then asked, “You…need a meeting with the boss of a Chinese gang? I thought you retired.”
“It’s for one of the kids. Do you have a contact or not?”
“Maybe not a direct contact,” Archer said. “I can ask around and see if anyone knows anyone. But why not just ask Dad? Are you hiding something from him?”
This time, it was Atticus who fell quiet, his look of confusion almost comical. Finally, he asked, “Why would I talk to Dad about setting up a meeting with the head of a gang?”
“Uh, because Dad plays tennis with Minato Yamisaki who worked on the AOC task force through Interpol.”
“What’s the AOC?” Seven asked.
“Asian Organized Crime,” Archer answered, clearly having picked up his question.
Atticus sighed. “Is there anyone Dad doesn’t know?”
“He’s a billionaire running a top secret government program teaching black ops to psychopaths…so, no. If he doesn’t know them personally, he only has to make two phone calls to get the information you need.”
Atticus shook his head. “Ugh. Fine. I’ll call Dad.”
“Let me know how your meeting with the triad goes,” Archer said, his amusement obvious.
Atticus hung up without saying goodbye, then immediately pushed more buttons, presumably to call Thomas Mulvaney, who answered after only two rings.
“Hey, kid. What’s going on? Where are my babies? Are they asleep already? I want to say goodnight.”
Nico grinned at Thomas’s excitement. Who would have thought the eldest Mulvaney would have become so weak over a bunch of sticky, drooling kids?
Jericho chuckled, then said, “They’re already asleep.”
“Oh,” Thomas said, his disappointment evident. “Then what’s up?”
“Who is it?” Nico heard someone ask. Aiden probably.
“It’s Atticus,” Thomas said, his voice muffled, like he’d put his hand over the speaker.
“Don’t take too long. You said you’d take a bath with me,” Aiden said.
Everyone snickered except for Atticus, who looked pained.
“Sorry, I’m back,” Thomas said. “Aiden said hi.”
“No, I didn’t!” Aiden called from farther away.
Thomas sighed heavily. “What do you need, son?”
Atticus hesitated for only a moment before saying, “I need to set up a meeting with the Dai Lo of the Red Lotus Clan out of Hong Kong. Archer seemed to think you’d be the person to call.”
“Of course, I am,” Thomas said, as if that were obvious. “Who else would be able to arrange something like that?”
“Well, I thought Archer, but I guess I was wrong. He said you knew someone. Minato something or other who was on a task force for Interpol.”
“I’m sure Minato could get me intel on the gang, but if you want a meeting, I’ll have to call up Victor Qin.”
“Who?” Atticus asked.
“The Dai Lo of the Crimson Orchid Syndicate.”
“They all have such cool names,” Seven muttered. “It’s not fair. Why don’t we have a name?”
“‘Cause we’re not a gang, dumbass,” Levi said, chucking a pillow at him.
“The Dai Lo’s name is Victor?” Nico asked nobody in particular.
“That’s just what he goes by when he’s dealing with people who will butcher his actual name,” Thomas explained.
“You…” Atticus trailed off, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You’re friends with a Chinese gang leader?”
Thomas scoffed. “I didn’t say we summer together in the Hamptons. We just happen to travel in the same circles.”
“What circles, Dad? What could you possibly have in common with a gangster?” Atticus asked, skin getting redder by the minute.
“Well, if you must know, we met five or six years ago at the International Economic Leadership Forum.”
“The what?” Jericho asked.
“It’s a gathering of influential leaders, business tycoons, and political figures.”
“Of course, it is,” Jericho said. “How silly of me. You think he’d help you just ‘cause you went to one meeting together?”
“It wasn’t just one meeting. I said we met six years ago, not that I haven’t spoken to him since. “We also met two years ago at an art auction. He outbid me on a Basquiat painting I’d been eyeing for months,” Thomas muttered, sounding disgruntled. “And then we met again at the charity gala. You know the one. The Medicine without Borders Benefit. He was a large donor.”
Atticus looked flabbergasted. “Who. Are. You?”
“I’m your father,” Thomas reminded him. “I run in a lot of different circles. It’s part of my job. But I can get a hold of Victor fairly quickly.”
“You think he’ll help?” Nico asked.
“I don’t see why not,” Thomas said. “He’s a lovely man. Very generous with his donations. He even offered to donate to our foundation next year.”
“Yeah, Dad. I’m sure he’s a real sweetheart. How quickly do you think you could arrange this meeting?”
“Why exactly are you asking to meet with the boss of a Chinese gang?” Thomas asked, using the same tone Atticus just had.
“We need to question two of their low-level soldiers without starting an all out war over a missing woman. You know once we start questioning people, things tend to get…messy. But we’re never going to get to the bottom of this if we can’t get one of them to crack.”
Thomas sighed through the phone. “I’ll see what I can do. But I need you to understand that if the triad has settled in, they’re not likely to go quietly. You might need to make peace with the fact that your answers will come at the cost of agreeing to live and let live.”
“So, we ignore the fact that they’re essentially running sweatshops in our neighborhood? These guys are creeps,” Seven said.
“I’m not saying to ignore it forever, I’m just saying that, if you want answers, you’re not likely to get them if you’re lecturing the Dai Lo about his shady business practices. Sometimes, we have to stay in our lane if we want to keep from being exposed.”
“Well, your lane is clearly much broader than I thought it was ten minutes ago,” Atticus muttered.
“Don’t do anything until you hear from me. I’ll get back with you shortly.”
He hung up without waiting for confirmation. But that was Thomas Mulvaney. He was used to people just doing what they were told when he spoke.
Well, now anyway.
Before his sons had all settled down and started giving him grandchildren, they’d been running wild, but now, almost everyone seemed to have fallen in line. Or maybe they were just too tired to get into the same trouble they used to. They were all getting pretty old.
Once Freckles got off the phone with Thomas, there was nothing more to do than go home. Nico and Mal shared an Uber with Levi and Shiloh, the short trip passing in comfortable silence. It was late and they were all exhausted.
Nico chewed his thumbnail as he contemplated what might happen next. What if the triad decided to retaliate? What if they never found Amy? What happened to Casey? What if Leo sent more of his GTB guys to their apartment? They’d found out where Mal worked easily enough; who was to say they didn’t have their home address, too?
“You’re thinking way too loudly,” Mal teased, slipping an arm around his shoulders.
Nico pressed his nose to Mal’s shirt, inhaling softly before saying, “I’m just worried.”
“You’re always worried, Fidget. Your brain is always in overdrive with ten tabs open. It’s all gonna be okay.”
Nico nodded, even though he didn’t really believe that to be true.
Together, they all took the stairs to their apartment, Levi opening the door. They were greeted by a cacophony of meows, the kittens all complaining loudly about their lack of dinner. They were used to two meals a day, like clockwork. They didn’t like deviating from their usual dining preferences.
Mochi batted at each of them from her cat tower as they passed, clearly worried that they might not be aware of her displeasure. Shiloh headed to the kitchen, grabbing their dishes. Each one had their names inscribed on them, compliments of Avi, but the cats rarely cared about whose name was on what dish.
Nico followed, helping him open five cans of ridiculously overpriced cat food—also compliments of Avi. When Shiloh had first brought the five gremlins home, Nico had worried Avi would forget his promise to give them all the supplies they needed, but their food and litter arrived like clockwork. He’d even gotten them a litter robot so they didn’t have to scoop poop a hundred times a day.
Once the kittens were fed, Nico allowed Mal to pull him towards their room. While Nico loved how spacious and luxurious Jericho’s penthouse was, there was something so instantly soothing about being back in their own tiny apartment. No matter how much he wanted to find a bigger place, part of Nico would miss the fun they had in this one.
Levi and Shiloh followed behind them, both couples stopping outside their doors.
Shiloh gave Mal and Nico a solemn look. “If I have to listen to you two fuck tonight, I will commit violence. I have a really long day tomorrow.”
Nico dropped his gaze, trying to look contrite. “We’ve already gotten it out of our system. I promise.”
Mal snorted. “Speak for yourself.”
Shiloh elbowed his brother in the ribs, smirking when he grunted and doubled over.
“Shiloh!” Nico admonished. “He’s injured.”
The other boy glowered at him. “Don’t Shiloh me. He had it coming and he knows it. You too,” he said, poking a finger in Nico’s direction menacingly. “I’ll get even with you later. When you least expect it.”
Nico shivered at the warning. Shiloh looked soft and sweet, but he’d torn his brother to shreds with his bare hands. Literally. Mal may have been the one to send him to the great beyond, but Shiloh had made sure there wasn’t much left to send in the first place.
“How many times do I have to say I’m sorry?” Nico pleaded. “We weren’t trying to be loud.” He looked to Mal for help, but instead found him smirking. “Besides , you’re loud, too. I’ve heard you beg so much that the neighbors probably think we have a ghost haunting our apartment.”
“Yeah, one with a porn addiction,” Mal muttered. “Characters in hentai porn are quieter than you.”
“How would you know?” Shiloh countered.
“Because I used to jerk off to it whenever I felt guilty about getting off on the thought of railing my best friend,” Mal shot back without hesitation.
Nico’s heart tripped. “Aw, did you really feel guilty? That’s…so sweet.”
“Jesus, you two deserve each other,” Levi said, shaking his head.
“Hey, you two started this war. Don’t start shit, there won’t be shit. You and my brother have tortured us for months. I refuse to feel guilty about making Nico scream.”
Shiloh flushed. “Oh, my God! Just shut up,” Shiloh shoved past Levi, disappearing into their bedroom.”
“Goodnight, I guess,” Levi said a moment before he was yanked through the door.
Nico shook his head at the dramatics, then turned to Mal. “Do you want to shower?”
He shook his head. “I showered at Jericho’s.”
Nico’s eyes went wide. “You did? How? You’re so hurt.”
Mal grimaced. “Let’s just say that Freckles and I now know each other on a much more intimate level.”
An ugly feeling shot through Nico. “You let Freckles see you naked?”
“He’s a doctor, Fidget. Would you be mad if a doctor saw me naked?”
Nico thought about it, hating how slippery the thought made his insides feel. “Yeah, probably a little bit if he was hot, rich, and gay.”
Mal looked offended. “You think the only reason we’re together is ‘cause I couldn’t bag a hot, rich, gay guy?” He lifted his shirt, showing Nico his abs. “Have you seen me?”
Nico rolled his eyes, giving him a catty look. “No, I know you’re with me ‘cause I’m adorable and good in bed.”
Mal snorted. “I literally just had to coach you through fucking me. You—with your own mouth—told me your stroke game was mediocre at best.”
Nico’s mouth fell open. “I can’t believe you’d bring that up now,” he said, scandalized.
“Hey, no judgment, Fidget. I’m just saying…the sex isn’t why I love you.”
Nico’s heart cartwheeled in his chest at Mal’s casual admission. Fuck, would he ever get used to hearing him say that? They’d said it before, but as friends, not as…more.
Nico didn’t want to get too in his head about it, so he forced himself to keep the conversation surface level. He looked over his shoulder and down at the curve of his butt. “You have to admit, though, this ass is top tier. Besides, what I lack in rhythm, I make up for in…blowjob skills.”
“I wouldn’t know, pillow princess,” Mal taunted.
Nico’s mouth fell open again. “I’ve sucked you off.”
“No, you let me fuck your throat.” Lightning shot through Nico’s whole body at the memory. “That’s a whole different skill set. Though, I do admit, you take it better than most.”
Most? No, he wasn’t going down that rabbit hole. “How is that different from a blowjob?”
Mal grinned. “One requires stamina, the other actual skill.”
Nico scoffed. “Are you saying I have stamina but no skill?”
“I’m saying even your stamina could use work, Fidget,” he teased. “But that’s okay. I like teaching you. You’re an excellent student.”
Nico knew he was taunting him, egging him on, but he couldn’t let it go. “I’ll have you know, I’ve been told I could suck a golf ball through a garden hose.”
Mal arched a brow, eyes lighting up, his smug expression making Nico want to punch him. “Care to prove that, baby?”
He’d walked right into Mal’s trap…again. His confidence faltered almost immediately.
“Are you asking me to blow you less than five minutes after telling your brother we wouldn’t be having sex?” he tried, hoping to distract him.
Mal shrugged, cupping himself through his borrowed sweatpants, drawing attention to his half-hard cock. “One: is a blowjob really sex? Two: I promised nothing.”
Saliva pooled in Nico’s mouth as he stared at the outline of Mal’s dick through the thin material. It really was perfect. Mal was perfect. Nico wanted him in his mouth. Hell, he wanted him anywhere he could get him.
He dragged his gaze to the wall connecting the two bedrooms, chewing his lip thoughtfully. After a minute, he said, “Fine, but you have to stay quiet. I don’t want to get yelled at again.”
Nico gasped as Mal’s arm went around his waist, yanking him until they were pressed together. He looked so imposing when they were this close.
“Are you giving me orders now?” Mal asked, his tone just menacing enough to make the blood in Nico’s head rush south.
“No,” Nico said, pouting in a way that always drove Mal crazy. “But I know you’d never hurt me. The same can’t be said for your brother. I love him but you know he can be coo-coo bananas when he snaps. I don’t want to be the thing that sends him over the edge again.”
“See that’s where you’re wrong, Fidget,” Mal said, digging his nails into the meat of Nico’s ass. “I can’t wait to hurt you. I just know how much you love when I do.”
Nico bit back a desperate sound, letting Mal push him away. Nico watched, transfixed, as Mal hooked his thumbs into his sweatpants and dragged them down, underwear, too, leaving him in only his shirt, like he was Winnie the Pooh. It should have looked ridiculous but he just looked hot.
He sat on the edge of the bed, leaning back on his hands. “Show me what you got, Fidget. I’ll be quiet.”
Nico could feel his hard-won confidence circling the drain, but still, he held Mal’s gaze. When he hesitated, Mal tossed a pillow to the ground between his knees, then gave him another challenging look and a slight nod of his head.
Cocky asshole.
How could Mal make him feel so comfortable and so nervous at the same time? Was this what it was like being in a relationship? Would Mal talk him through it like he had fucking him? Nico hated to admit how much he’d liked it. He hated having to think, having to guess what Mal wanted from him. He wanted to please him. He wanted to do a good job. He wanted Mal to praise him for his efforts.
He took a deep breath, then dropped to his knees on the soft pillow, staring at Mal’s flushed cock, now hard and wet. He bit his bottom lip, eyeing him.
“I can practically see the wheels turning in that pretty little head of yours. You talk a good game, baby, but the minute you see my cock, you go completely dumb. It’s almost like you want to be punished. Or maybe you just really, really like being told what to do?”
Nico flushed, his chest and jeans growing tight.
“Is that it?” Mal practically purred, reaching one hand up to cup the back of his head. “Do you just really like me giving you instructions?” Nico gave a stilted nod, heart racing. He winced as Mal knotted his fingers into his hair, wrenching his head back until they were eye to eye.
Nico whimpered.
Mal tsked, his tone dripping with disappointment. “Use your words, baby.”
“Y-Yes,” he managed, breathless. “I like when you tell me how you like it.”
“Why?” Mal asked, his smug tone making Nico blush, humiliation washing over him even as his cock pressed painfully against his zipper.
“‘Cause I want to make you happy,” Nico admitted, voice barely above a whisper.
Mal regarded him with those cat-like eyes. “Cute.” Nico glowered at him, earning a deliciously low chuckle. “Don’t pout at me, Fidget. You’re the one who was just bragging about your dick sucking ability.”
“You’re…making me nervous,” Nico whined.
Mal’s slow smile was anything but sympathetic. “Yeah? Why? Are you afraid of me?”
Nico’s cock throbbed, his underwear growing sticky. “Yes,” he whispered.
“Good,” Mal said, his tone mean, but the hand in Nico’s hair relaxed, petting through his curls like he was a pet. “Don’t worry. I won’t grade you on your performance. Besides, if you do a bad job, I’ll just hold you down and fuck your pretty little mouth again.”
Nico whined. “Stop teasing me.”
Mal gave him a fond smile, cupping his cheek before lying down, doubling a pillow behind his head so he could watch Nico from his reclined position. “You got this, pretty boy. Go ahead, rock my world.”
Nico huffed out a breath through his nose, then wrapped a hand around the base of Mal’s thick cock, frustration burning through him as he longed to just unbutton his pants to relieve the ache.
“Temper, temper, Fidget. If you break it, I won’t get to play with it anymore,” Mal murmured, his gaze glued to Nico’s face.
Nico had never felt more exposed in his life. He gave a few experimental tugs, wishing Mal would just get impatient and fuck his face again like he’d said. One quick glance upwards told Nico that wouldn’t be happening anytime soon.
He gave a long-suffering sigh and inched closer, glowering at Mal’s rather imposing member.
Mal laughed at him. “Poor baby. Am I being too mean?”
Nico didn’t say anything, just gave another irritated huff, then dipped his head, ignoring Mal’s cock entirely to lick over the seam of his balls. Mal sucked in a sharp breath. Pride surged through Nico as Mal’s thighs flexed beneath his fingers, like he was trying to hold himself back.
Nico pressed his thumb to Mal’s perineum, rubbing there as he sucked and licked at him, listening to Mal gasp, watching his fingers grip the sheets in his peripheral. He stayed silent, but Nico could hear his rapid breathing, could see his belly rising and falling quickly.
Mal’s hand fell to Nico’s hair, threading his fingers in his curls to drag him upwards to his leaking cock. Nico couldn’t stop himself from glancing up. Mal looked as menacing as he did wrecked. “Stop teasing, you little brat.”
Nico shrugged, expression smug as he guided the head to his lips, opening his mouth to let the saliva there drip onto him, using it to jerk him lazily as he dug his tongue into the notch at the base of his tip, earning another low groan.
Nico finally took the tip into his mouth, sucking him gently, concentrating on nothing else until Mal was squirming beneath him, his fingers tensing in Nico’s hair.
“Fidget…” he growled.
Nico risked a look up as he sank lower, taking him about halfway. Mal’s mouth fell open, huffing out a breath as Nico hollowed his cheeks before drawing back, tongue still teasing that sensitive spot as he moved.
“Christ, baby,” Mal whispered sharply, tossing his head back on the pillow.
Nico fought back a smile as he began to bob his head, using his hand to cover any part he couldn’t reach.
“Fuck, that’s it, Fidget. So good for me,” Mal said, voice raw.
Nico removed his hand, Mal’s words making him want to show him just how good he could be. He took him in until the head of his cock was bumping the back of his throat, making him gag wetly.
“Good boy. Choke on it. Fuck. I swear you were born for this.” Nico couldn’t stop the whine that escaped even as Mal pushed down encouragingly. “You can take more, can’t you, Fidget?”
Nico wanted to do well, wanted him to keep praising him. He took him deeper with each pass, until he was cutting off his air every time. Nico moaned at the intrusion. Something seemed to snap in Mal then. He sat up, bracing his weight on one hand while holding Nico still with the other, hips thrusting upwards to bury his entire length in the tight heat of Nico’s throat.
Nico dropped his hand between his legs, unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans. Mal’s foot pushed his hand away, pressing against Nico’s painfully hard dick. “So wet here,” Mal taunted. “Does it hurt?”
The ball of Mal’s foot pressed harder, making him whine. The pressure was delicious, but the friction of his underwear was just this side of too much. Nico nodded as best he could.
Mal gave a mean laugh that set Nico’s insides on fire. “Good. If you want to come, you can get off like this.”
Nico whined. Did he want him to just rub off on his foot? Humiliation burned through him as he did just that, rocking his hips even as he let Mal use him, trying to suck as Mal thrust in and out slowly like he wanted to drag it out, like he wanted him to suffer.
Nico moaned around the intrusion, Mal bullying his way into Nico’s throat and holding him there until his lungs burned, until the muscles constricted painfully, his gag reflex triggered again and again.
“Look at me,” Mal demanded. Nico’s gaze snapped to his, even as his image blurred from the tears streaking down his cheeks. He must be a mess. He could feel his nose running, could feel the spit leaking from the corners of his mouth and down his chin.
He whimpered, his vision tunneling a little, a strange euphoric feeling kicking in as he rutted against Mal’s foot faster. “Fuck, that’s it. Keep your eyes on me.”
Mal pulled free from Nico’s throat, looking hungrily at the saliva that poured from Nico’s lips. That and the rush of oxygen returning to his brain had Nico soaring. He couldn’t stop the low sob that escaped as he stared up at Mal, desperate for…something more. He needed to get off. He needed to come.
Mal wrapped a hand around his cock, stroking himself. “That’s it, pretty. Just keep looking at me.” Nico couldn’t stop crying, could hear his own pitiful mewling.
“Fuck, Fidget,” he groaned. “You sound like a little puppy. Look like one, too.”
Nico squeezed his eyes shut, earning another hard yank on his hair. “Did I tell you to close your eyes?”
Nico shook his head, face flushed as he was forced to watch Mal watch him, his dark gaze making Nico feel pathetic as he rutted against him. “You like humping my foot like a horny puppy? Huh? You gonna get off like that?” Nico only cried harder. “Fuck, that’s it. God, I love when you cry like this. You look so pretty, my pretty little slut.”
“Yours,” Nico managed, sniffling.
“Just mine,” Mal agreed, working himself faster.
Pleasure and pain surged through Nico as he felt himself passing the point of no return. If he kept going like this, he wouldn’t be able to stop.
“Can I come?” he heard himself beg. “Please. Please,” he whined. “Can I?”
“If you can,” Mal said, like he was bored, like it was a challenge, like it didn’t matter to him if Nico was enjoying this or not.
It was that thought that threw him over the edge. He choked out a cry as he felt himself release into his already destroyed underwear, continuing to work himself against Mal until he grew oversensitive.
“Good boy, baby,” Mal praised. “Now, open your mouth.”
Nico didn’t hesitate, parting his lips just as Mal moaned, pressing the head of his cock to Nico’s tongue as he came, flooding Nico’s mouth with the bitter taste, not stopping until he’d fed him every drop.
“Swallow it.”
Nico did as he was told, then opened his mouth to show him. Mal grabbed him beneath his arms and hauled him into his lap, kissing him deeply despite the mess coating his face and tongue.
“Fuck, you’re so hot. So good for me. You did so well. I’ll never doubt your cock-sucking skills again.”
“I should hope not,” Nico said, both of them laughing at the hoarseness of his voice.
He dropped his head to Mal’s shoulder.
“Tired?” he asked. Nico nodded. “Let’s get ready for bed.”
“You get me ready for bed. I’m exhausted.”
“Hey, which one of us got beat up by gangsters today?”
“Which one of us made you come twice?” Nico countered as he placed a soft kiss on Mal’s throat.
“That’s fair,” Mal said, somehow standing and dumping Nico onto the bed in one motion.
Nico laid there as Mal stripped them both, then wiped them down with wet wipes. It wasn’t until they were both wrapped up in each other that both their phones vibrated.
Nico slapped blindly at the little table beside the bed until he found his phone. He knew whatever had come in had been sent to them both.
He thumbed open his phone, holding it so they could both see it. It was a photo sent to the both of them from the room next door. Nico’s stomach swooped. They wouldn’t send, like, a sex pic or something in retaliation, would they?
He took a deep breath and looked at Mal, who seemed to gird himself for whatever they were about to see. He clicked on the picture, then bit back a laugh. It was Levi and Shiloh clad in their sleep clothes, lit only by the television, giving them the finger.
Another message followed immediately behind it. Just four words filled with foreboding.
We will get even.