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Liti's fist connects with the outer wall of someone's house.
"You could have been killed ," he snaps. "Don't you see that? They had weapons and nothing to lose - don't try to tell me you could've fought off six of them at close range on your own."
Gortash crosses his arms. "I was hardly-"
"No, you're not hearing me. They didn't want to take you hostage, they wanted to gut you and leave you to die. I would know." Liti glowers at him, putting the full force of his murderous heritage behind it, and still Gortash looks unbelievably blasé about the whole thing. It takes a concentrated effort to avoid grabbing him and shaking some sense into him. Gortash's shoulders raise, then lower.
"Yes, well," he says, "I'm here, aren't I? They didn't succeed."
But they could have, and that's the thing Liti can't seem to make him understand. If Liti had been just a little slower - no, if he hadn't listened to his ominous gut feeling in the first place, he wouldn't even have been in this part of the city. He wouldn't have thought that Gortash would be in this part of the city. It's dumb luck that they're both still standing here having this conversation, nothing more.
And dumb luck can't carry them forever.
The most reckless member of the group that had cornered Gortash had lunged at him so fast, Liti had had to throw both a knife and a spell at her just to make sure one connected. He can still see it in his mind’s eye; the way Gortash had moved away, but too slowly; the trajectory of the woman's hidden dagger, bound straight for Gortash's left kidney; the way her allies had fanned out, blocking off Gortash's escape routes while he was busy with his assailant. Liti had killed them all. They hadn't been clean kills. The aftertaste of iron is still on his tongue even now, when the last scraps of flesh no longer cling to his sharpest teeth.
Gortash's hands land on his waist as he says: "That had better not be the Urge taking over, dearest."
"You're..." Liti grits his teeth. Gortash laughs quietly.
"My, my. If I didn't know better, I would think you were sick with worry over me."
Despite himself, Liti feels his face grow hot. He looks away.
"It's going to be me who kills you one day," he mutters. "Me, and no one else."
"Unless, of course, some hoodlums in a back alley steal that choice from you." He's kidding, but Liti's heart still clenches at the idea.
"Shut up, Enver," he says. To his surprise, Gortash does. He leans in to kiss the crook of Liti's neck, and Liti considers shoving him away, making him listen. What he does instead is let out a shuddering sigh as the rush of frustration ebbs.
"Do you know," Gortash murmurs close to his ear, "why I wasn't worried?"
"Because you think you're untouchable," Liti accuses quietly. Gortash moves closer.
"I knew you would come."
Liti goes still. That sort of admission is dangerous, bordering on deranged - who counts on a murderer like that? The citizens of Baldur's Gate know that Liti is a menace, that his kill count keeps climbing higher and higher, that if they see a shadow stalking them, it's already too late to run. Someone like that is to be feared and reviled, not…
Maybe Gortash realizes how revealing that simple sentence had been, because he draws back and paints a devilish grin on his face as if it had all been part of a calculated move. Liti knows him better than that. Gortash may be a genius, but even he can't calculate every risk or predict every eventuality, let alone anticipate the undeniable something that's been growing between the two of them.
"That's bad planning," says Liti, if only to fill the space between them. One of Gortash's hands wanders to the back of Liti's neck.
"I disagree," he says. "I'm simply accounting for every variable."
No , screams the Urge, and Liti's tempted to listen. This is insane. This is going to get - he is going to get Gortash killed. It's just a matter of time.
Without warning, he lurches forward and sinks his teeth into the exposed skin at Gortash's collarbone, biting down hard until he breaks skin. He dimly registers Gortash's surprised intake of breath. The moment a drop of blood touches Liti's tongue, the Urge morphs from a discordant note into a humming harmony, asking only for this this this instead of filling his mind with carnage. Before he can get complacent and start ripping into Gortash's flesh, Liti lets go and takes an unsteady step back, his eyes wide, licking blood from his lips.
Gortash stares at him.
"What-?"
"Did you account for that?" Liti says.
A beat. Then Gortash grins.
"I've been waiting for you to do something reckless, yes," he says, his eyes alight.
The taste of Gortash’s blood continues to unfold on Liti’s tongue as he says: "You've completely lost your mind."
"Oh, dearest. Flirting in public?"
Liti wants to strangle him, but unfortunately, the thought of him gasping for air only makes Liti's own blood race. He does his best to stay entirely levelheaded.
"You let me bite you," he says. "I think we've passed the flirting stage."
Gortash's grin widens. "And what comes after that?"
Fuck.
Levelheaded isn't going to work. Liti seizes Gortash's jacket and kisses him hard, hoping he can distract the both of them from the fact that they're in a random alleyway not five whole minutes' walk from where Liti had just brutally slaughtered Gortash's would-be assailants. As the golden rings on Gortash’s right hand dig into Liti's waist through his robe, Gortash kisses him back enthusiastically, pushing his other hand up into Liti's hair and gripping it tightly. Their kiss is no elegant thing; it's all teeth clacking and hands grasping, trying to get closer closer closer.
I knew you would come . Gortash's words echo in Liti's mind, a sharp reminder that what they're becoming is worse than dangerous by now. Liti pushes Gortash's shirt open wider and runs his fingertips over the bite mark he'd just left.
I knew you would come .
And it's true. That's the worst part; if Gortash needs him, Liti would be nowhere else.
Gortash pushes him back to suck in air, his eyes alight, and say: "Come to Wyrm's Rock."
"Your office?" Liti asks, his mind going straight to all the things they should definitely not do on Gortash’s desk if they want to keep narrowly avoiding outright sinning against their gods. Gortash nods.
"I want to show you something."
The look in his eyes is difficult to read. He's excited about something - thrilled, even - but whether it's the prospect of taking things further or something else altogether, Liti can't guess. He fights to even his ragged breathing.
"What is it?" he asks.
"A plan," says Gortash. The grin from before slips back onto his face. "I've just figured out the last missing piece."
Liti raises his eyebrows. "By kissing me?"
"Mmm, you're an inspiration, Liti."
Liti drops his head onto Gortash's shoulder, trying not to laugh. One way or another, this man will be the death of him, that much is clear. But any plan that crystallizes in the wake of murder and a half-step toward cannibalism is a plan Liti has to hear about.
"Fine, then," he says.
As they set off, Liti notices that Gortash leaves the bloodied mark on his chest exposed until they're right about to leave the winding side streets. Is it a point of pride for him? Or does he... is this connected to the way he looks at Liti when the Urge comes out to play? Liti files the thought away for future consideration, falling into step in the shadows imminently behind Gortash.