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White, honey, I’ve got something of yours. The text comes with an image: Sean on his knees.
White’s never run anywhere so fast in his life.
He only left Sean for maybe ten minutes—was going to stop by Black’s place while they were in the neighbourhood—but then his phone buzzed in his pocket and his heart beat out of his chest. He runs right through traffic twice in getting back to his bike, glad they only brought one—they ride together, like they do almost everything together. It’s ridiculous, but guilt bubbles in White’s stomach, because the one time they don’t do something together, Sean winds up on the ground, smeared in dirt and sweat, a trickle of blood coming out the corner of his mouth and some stranger’s hand in his hair, holding his snarling face up to the camera. It looked like his hands were bound behind his back, but White didn’t take the time to examine the picture in detail. He just ran.
He drives like a man possessed, nearly crashing through the garage, and he doesn’t take the time to lock his bike because his bike is nothing compared to Sean. There are guards outside the elevator that don’t look twice at White. He jams the button for the penthouse and tries to stop hyperventilating—he digs his fingers into his palms and wishes he’d brought a gun.
Then he’s in Todd’s apartment, darting through the lobby, following the sound of that sick, smarmy voice, out into the living room—
He stops, panting hard, beside the two couches—Todd’s on one, Sean the other. Sean’s not tied up or made to kneel anymore, but he is glaring daggers at Todd. He doesn’t even have time to greet White before White’s flying at him, tumbling onto the couch and grabbing both his shoulders, looking in his eyes and frantically checking, “Are you okay?”
“Fine,” Sean growls. He doesn’t look fine—he looks pissed. But he stops glaring at Todd long enough to wrap a comforting arm around White’s waist and promise, “I’m fine.” White knows he looks as bad as Sean does—he’s shaken. There have been times before where he thought he’d lose Sean forever. They were also unbearable. This is worse, because Sean’s not a prospective partner anymore—he’s a full-on soulmate that White can’t live without. Sean seems to see that and softens minutely, pressing his forehead against White’s and hushing, “Hey, babe, I’m okay. Really.”
White still runs his hands over Sean’s body. He cups Sean’s face, traces Sean’s arms, smoothes over Sean’s stomach—Sean doesn’t grunt in any pain, and no blood soaks through. White checks it all, then slides back off the couch, taking Sean’s hand with him. He doesn’t even look over at Todd. He doesn’t have anything to say, is too angry, and he doesn’t want to start a fight while Sean’s in there and Todd has home field advantage. White squeezes Sean’s hand tight and says, “Let’s go.”
Sean stays stubbornly put, scowling back at Todd. “I’m not going anywhere until I know I don’t have to worry about this creep touching you.”
Todd snorts. White finally turns to look at him and forcibly doesn’t march over to punch his smirking face. Someone has to de-escalate things. White sucks in a deep breath and pointedly says, as much warning Todd as reassuring Sean, “He won’t.”
Todd chuckles and slickly agrees, “I won’t. The men that apprehended you have orders to protect Black—you’ve nothing to with it. When one came across this man seemingly feeling up my Black in an alley, well... as soon as ‘Black’ left, of course they captured you. He was only trying to help. But I do apologize for the mix up.”
There’s only a sliver of relief that it’s a mistake—that Todd, supposedly, never meant to touch Sean. The rest of White is still thoroughly concerned for his brother, even though he knows that Todd and Black’s relationship is... complicated.
He was hoping it was over. Apparently it’s not.
Footsteps approach the living room, and White doesn’t turn around to look, because he assumes it’s just another bodyguard that Todd will have escort them out. Instead, his own voice coldly asks, “What’s going on?”
Black joins them, standing not far from White, suspiciously eyeing both Todd and Sean, like there’s any way Sean could be at fault for... whatever’s happening. White has no idea why Black’s there—what reason he could possibly have to visit Todd, or if Todd sent him a similar text. Todd opens his mouth, but White fills in first, “Todd kidnapped Sean. ...He says his men were supposed to be keeping an eye out for you... and I guess whoever you’re with...” It’s a major red flag that he tries to subtly convey—once they’re safely away, they’ll have to talk about that. Todd possessively following Black and grabbing anyone he touches is a serious concern.
Black sneers at their former best friend. “You followed me? That’s so...” He trails off, like he can’t find a word messed up enough. He looks furious, but there’s something in his eyes that makes White blink, some underlying current simmering beneath their bond—then he feels sick, because he realizes Black might just find that hot.
It constantly amazes White how dangerous Black’s become. The world White’s inherited is such a far cry from the cushy life they grew up in. He still firmly believes that Black’s a good person.
Todd’s pure corruption, and he smirks beautifully at Black like he just knew Black would like being stalked and guarded like a dog on a short leash. It’s grotesque—the little hairs on the back of White’s neck might be standing up. He deliberately turns away from the fierce staring contest between his brother and former friend.
He heads towards the door, pulling Sean with him. Sean protests, “Hey—!”
But White insists, “We’re going,” and drags Sean away from the storm.