Under Lock and Key
by Silk
Part 6
"Take me to your room, Weasel Boy." Jason's warm and curiously sweet breath
wafted across Hillinger's face, and he closed his eyes on a surge of hunger so
sharp, it felt like it could draw blood.
I don't understand why I'm so attracted to you. I don't want this. Not this
way. I've never been into pain. Yet every moment that you're standing there,
being *you*, *not* being *him*, is sheer torture.
"Why does it have to be *me*?" Hillinger asked Jason in a hoarse whisper.
"You know why, Greggie. If you think about it *real* hard, it'll come to
you, boy. You just see if it doesn't." Jason eyed Hillinger with an almost
eerie calm. They were alone. The room was utterly silent. But they both felt
the tension thrumming between them. Like a loud sizzle in their veins.
They could never be unaware of each other again.
"You want vengeance?" Greg laughed, a short, bitter noise that cut itself
off. "Get in line."
"Why would I want vengeance? You didn't kill him."
"*This* time. That's what you mean, isn't it?" Greg put his aching head
down on his folded arms, which rested on the desk in front of him.
"Don't tell me what I mean, boy. The only way you'll discover *that* is to
take me to your room."
Greg's eyes shone with a strange light. "So you can fuck me."
"Hell, yes."
Greg began to laugh. "All this arguing might pass for foreplay where *you*
come from, but it's giving *me* a headache."
Jason leaned heavily on the younger man, his eyes involuntarily closing as his
tongue snaked out to capture his earlobe again. "Your choice, boy. I'll do
you right here on your fucking desk if you want. And you know I'm just crazy
enough to go for it."
"The surveillance--"
"Fuck surveillance. Between you and me, we know enough to shut down surveillance
here."
"What if someone found out? We'd be cancelled."
Jason's lips caressed the back of Greg's neck, nuzzling their way through silky
dark brown hair at the nape. "We're all already dead, Greggie. What are
you so afraid of?"
"What makes you think I'm afraid?"
Greg winced. He could hear the quaver in his voice. He hated that. Now, when
control was so important, he couldn't fail.
Jason's hand moved inside Greg's shirt, tracing its way across his relatively
hairless chest to claim a flat male nipple. Greg groaned against his will. He
didn't want this. He didn't--
If it was inevitable, could he blame himself for not stopping it?
Part 7