Chapter 2 #3
Sebastian woke to an unfamiliar ceiling and two warm bodies bracketing him, making him feel like he was trapped in a sauna.
He thought at first that was what had woken him; considering he’d never been in bed with two men before, it was an easy conclusion to come to.
The heat alone was borderline stifling. But then the sound of his phone hit his ears, and he realised that it was ringing.
The second he moved, Peyton was upright, one hand gripping painfully on Sebastian’s elbow and the other reaching under his pillow for something. Before Sebastian could ask what the fuck he was doing, Peyton relaxed, blinking in a way that was too adorable to be real. “Seb?”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you. It’s just my phone,” Sebastian said.
He crawled over Will—who didn’t wake and instead mumbled something about banana bread and turned over onto his stomach—and found his discarded pants on the floor.
It was still dark out, which meant it was stupid early, and the call was important.
It wasn’t like he had a big line-up of people who had his number, even less that would use it outside of sociable hours.
All the breath left him when he saw the blocked across his screen. He already knew it wasn’t some random telemarketer call. There was only one person it could be.
Hunter.
He checked the time in the top-right corner of his phone: four twenty-five a.m. Not I’m going to murder you in your sleep early, but close.
Sebastian sat and leaned his back against the side of the bed. He rubbed the spot between his eyes as he contemplated not answering it, even though he knew that wasn’t an option. Hunter would find him, one way or another.
Hunter didn’t wait for Sebastian to say anything. “How is my case?”
Sebastian rubbed his eye. “What?”
“Warren. Have you got it sorted yet?”
“I think you already know the answer to that. It hasn't changed since I updated you last night. The fuck, Hunter?”
“Clock is ticking.”
Sebastian blew out a breath. “I still need sleep. ”
A hand landed on his shoulder, and he jerked in surprise.
Peyton looked down at him with concern. Will had moved, his body curled around Peyton’s back.
Seeking out body heat, maybe. Sebastian had already guessed that Will was a cuddler even before he’d gotten the guy naked.
Everything about him screamed wholesome boy next door.
When Sebastian had picked him out in the club, he had expected a night of soft, pleasant sex.
Not his favourite kind, but once in a while it was a nice change.
And there’d been something about him that had drawn Sebastian in.
He had not expected to find that the cutie at the table wasn’t alone, or that both the men—who were very obviously into each other—would invite him back to their place.
Peyton’s head tilted in question. Sebastian just squeezed his hand and then got to his feet.
He gathered his clothes, grateful that they’d been piled mostly together, so he didn’t have to search far.
He slipped his glasses on as he awkwardly balanced his phone between his shoulder and ear.
He tugged on his underwear and then his pants and left them undone as he shrugged on his shirt, transferring the phone between hands as he did.
Peyton moved into view and took over. His fingers skimmed Sebastian’s skin as he started from the bottom button and worked his way up.
Sebastian found himself mesmerised. Peyton had long fingers, like a pianist. He wondered if he played any instruments.
His eyes lifted and met Peyton’s. His blue was darker than Sebastian’s own, like a clear midnight sky.
Sebastian wanted to kiss him. It had been a long time since he’d been in bed with someone and stayed the night. Even longer since he’d wanted to linger and wake up with them.
“I want an update today, Sebastian.”
Sebastian wanted to snap back and tell him that he could fucking wait, but Hunter had said it was personal, and he knew that snapping back wouldn't end well for him.
“And if I don't have one?” Sebastian asked.
“Make sure you have one.”
Before Sebastian could conjure up a sufficient response to that—eloquence was gone, and all he could think of to retort with was “go fuck yourself”—Hunter had hung up. Sebastian just knew he would think of the perfect response later once he’d been properly caffeinated.
“Everything okay?” Peyton asked.
Fuck it.
Sebastian leaned in and took the kiss that he wanted. He kept it light, and all it did was leave him wanting more.
He looked back at the bed, and Will had moved again. His long legs were trapped in the sheets, and he’d pulled a pillow into his chest and had his arms wrapped around it. Sebastian had the strangest urge to slide back under the covers, to nestle back into all that warmth.
“It was lovely to meet you both. Give him a kiss for me?” There wasn’t really any way to make leaving any less awkward with one-night stands.
He was never going to see either of these two men again; the perk of living in a big city like Sydney was that you could take a different guy home every night and never run into them afterwards.
Normally, that was a big plus for Sebastian. This time, he felt a pang of regret and almost offered his number. He bit his lip and slid his tie around his shoulders, letting it hang on either side.
Peyton smirked. “Sure. Need me to walk you out?”
“I think I can find the door.”
Sebastian hesitated in the doorway to the room, even glanced back to where Peyton was back in bed, spooning around Will. Will made a small sound, and Peyton pressed a kiss to the back of his neck before resting his forehead against the back of Will’s head.
Sebastian closed his eyes briefly and then headed out. There was way too much going on in his life for his head to be turned by not one, but two sexy men.
Before he could get to the front door, it opened on its own.
Light from the hallway spilled into the room, a silhouette of a person in the middle.
More light erupted when the figure turned on the light above Sebastian.
It was the only reason Sebastian didn’t trip over the arm that was stretched across the floor in front of him.
He followed the arm to the rest of the body and stared in rising horror at the open, unseeing eyes of the corpse. A fucking corpse was lying on the tiles between the back of the couch and the dining table.
The man who had just walked inside—who was the spitting image of Peyton because of course he was a fucking twin— screamed when he saw the body.
He threw whatever was in his hand at Sebastian, and the corner of it just missed his glasses, hitting above his eyebrow, sending a sharp pain across half his face.
“Ow, what the fuck?” Sebastian cursed. His eyebrow throbbed under the sting, a wetness sliding down his temple.
When he pressed his fingers against it, they came back red.
He was glad that it hadn’t damaged his piercing, but what the fuck had the guy thrown at him?
He spied the phone on the floor near his foot and scowled at it.
“Don’t move, murderer!”
Peyton burst out of the bedroom in his sweatpants, Will close behind him. He slid abruptly to a stop when he spied the dead guy. Will ran right into his back.
“Oh, Jesus,” Peyton said eloquently.
“It was him! Peyton, shoot him!” Peyton’s twin yelled, pointing a hand at Sebastian.
“It was not!” Sebastian protested. Shoot him?
“With what?” Peyton said, the corner of his mouth quirking. He crouched beside the body and pressed two fingers to his neck. “It wasn’t him. I said goodbye to him like two seconds ago.” He looked up. “And this guy is cold.”
“That’s fucking disgusting. Stop touching it,” the twin said.
“Parker, calm down,” Will said.
“Calm down? Calm down?” The twin—Parker—was practically screeching now. “Call the police!”
“I am the police,” Will reasoned.
“We don’t need a battering ram right now, Will!” Parker growled.
“Hey, watch it,” Peyton warned. “Sit the fuck down before you hyperventilate.”
Wait, what? Police? Sebastian had gone home with a cop? Fucking hell. No. He avoided frequenting any places that were cop hangouts. His relationship with the police was tenuous at best because of his profession. He rubbed his forehead, already feeling a headache forming.
“Anyone know him?” Will asked, studying the body’s face.
Parker was muttering to himself as he sat heavily on a dining chair, putting his head between his knees.
Sebastian blanched as he took in the facial features of the corpse.
He knew that face. He’d represented that face in court.
He was a fucking client. Sebastian remembered the case.
It hadn’t even been a year ago. Why was someone he knew in the apartment of people he’d only met the night before?
Was it connected to him or merely coincidence?
If it was connected, had he been followed?
How else would they have known he was here?
His knees wobbled, and he half stumbled backwards and collapsed into one of the dining chairs.
There was a fucking dead body—one he knew— in the middle of the room. It hadn’t been there when they’d gone to bed. Someone had gotten inside while they’d all been either fucking or sleeping.
The thought made bile rise in his throat as his stomach churned uncomfortably. Whoever had dumped the body had been right in the apartment , mere feet from them. Sebastian wasn’t a stranger to threats or even semi-dangerous situations, but this was a game he wasn’t interested in playing.
“We do need to call it in,” Will said. “How long do you think he’s been here?”
“Hard to say,” Peyton said. The ease with which he was discussing not only a dead person, but the way he was scrutinising the body in a detached manner was…
disconcerting. It was clearly not his first rodeo, and Sebastian wondered just what kind of people he’d spent the night with. A cop and… who else? Who was Peyton?
“I’ll call Quinn,” Peyton said, getting to his feet. He snagged what had to be his phone from the kitchen counter and flicked it open.
Quinn.
Sebastian’s breath caught in his throat. There was no way. It wasn’t a common name, but there was more than one out there. Probably even more than one in Sydney alone.
But more than one that someone would call because of a murder?
Sebastian really fucking hoped this was all just a bad dream. Please, for the love of all the good things in the world, tell me that my luck isn’t that bad.