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“Been having fun with Talon, huh?”
The rumbling voice startled Jack out of his chair. He ripped himself to his feet and instinctively snatched his half-cleaned gun off the table, swinging to shove the barrel in the direction of the voice. When he saw the mask in front of him, he wasn’t sure if he should fire or breathe a sigh of relief.
“Reaper,” he said, disdain tinting his voice.
“Oh shove off, you old asshole,” Reaper replied. Behind his mask, he was rolling his eyes, a fact Jack knew, and hated that he knew, just by the slight tilt of his ex-boyfriend’s head. “You know it’s me.”
Jack swallowed. “I’d ask why you’re here, but I’m sure it’s for my head,” he said, trying to sound more emotionless than he really was. “Gonna put me out of my misery?” He tipped the barrel up a bit more.
Before he could decide whether or not to tighten he grip on the trigger, the gun was gone from Jack’s hands. Reaper had snatched it in a tornado of seeping black mist, and now he was on top of him. The assassin’s thick thighs crashed hard around Jack’s chest and the old soldier grunted when the wind was knocked out of him. He braced himself when he saw talons nearing his face, waiting for the icy sting of their sharp steel tips… But it never came. Reaper’s clawed hands dipped down and cupped Jack’s face with a shocking delicacy.
“God, Jack, you look like hell,” he murmured as his thumb pads smoothed over Jack’s pale, withered skin. “You haven’t fed recently, have you?”
Jack tried not to flinch, but he did. He tried not to stare up into the black pits that were the eyes of Reaper’s mask, but he did that too. His lips parted to speak, but Jack found himself speechless. “I… Don’t know what you mean,” he finally said. So convincing.
“Christ, you really haven’t been, have you? Fuck me, you’re too damn much of a boy scout.” Reaper’s hand dragged slowly down his mask, his thumb twitching like he was trying to decide whether or not to take it off. He decided on the latter. “You look like hell. No wonder you didn’t hear me coming.”
“I don’t understand,” Jack said, gritting his teeth. He had been so careful. Hadn’t he?
“Yes you do. You’re a terrible liar, Jack.” Reaper brushed over Jack’s scars with one gloved knuckle. Every touch was tender. Every touch reminded Jack of the good old days, when he and Gabriel would lie together after a long day of training, just talking and touching and… Well, now Jack was blushing. A soft chuckle drifted out from underneath Reaper’s mask. “You’ve always been a terrible liar.”
Jack shifted as much as he could under Reaper’s weight and cleared his throat. A long silence drifted between them, and in it, the sounds of the night danced through Jack’s ears. An owl hooted outside and a rat scurried furiously across the floorboards in response. Somewhere out in the city streets, a car alarm got two notes into its song before being abruptly stopped. A man yelled furiously at a dog that wouldn’t stop barking. Reaper’s heartbeat thudded in perfect time above him. Jack couldn’t take his eyes off that mask and he knew that behind it, Gabe’s eyes were locked on his, too. Jack sighed. “How… Did you know?” he asked slowly, nervously. He was a little embarrassed.
“I could smell it on you. The blood. The bloodlust. And I might have watched you, once or twice.” There was a soft tick when Reaper pulled loose the straps of his mask, and Jack tried hard not to gasp at the sight. He failed, of course, and Gabe smiled down at him that much more for it. Scars both dark and light crisscrossed Gabriel’s face just as much as they did Jack’s, if not more. Somehow, it just made him that much more attractive. Jack’s trembling hands reached up to touch them, to smooth his bare thumbs over every scar as if they could all tell him their stories, and he did want to know every single one. He wanted to know how many were his fault.
Every question Jack had was lost the moment he saw Gabe’s face. Despite the scarring, he looked young. He looked alive. He looked like he hadn’t aged a day. And his smile… Gabe’s smile reminded Jack of his own. So sharp… Just like his. Jack’s eyes glittered with something that might have been hope. “You’re just like me, aren’t you?” he asked, breathless.
“Just like you would be, if you ever let go of your damn pride enough to eat,” Gabe replied. He leaned into Jack’s touch when the soldier moved his exploration over to the small gold earring that was stuck in Gabe’s left ear. “It’s the one you gave me,” Gabe said, his voice alight with that golden, warm softness that had always been for Jack, and Jack alone. “God, Jack, I missed you. I thought you were dead. I was such a fool…”
“We were just kids. Stupid kids. It’s my fault as much as it is yours.” Jack pulled Gabriel’s head down. He wanted–no, needed him closer, even if they were on his filthy floor. It didn’t matter. Dirt would wash off. Jack wanted to bask in the scent of him, to drown in their shared memories. Judging by the way Gabe slid his hips back to give himself the space to press a kiss to Jack’s cheek, it was almost assured that he probably wanted the same thing.
“Stay,” Jack said when Gabe suddenly began to pull back. He grabbed his arm, trying to hold like a vice despite his weak state. “Please.”
“No,” he replied. When Jack wilted, he added, “You’re coming with me, dumbass. I can’t ride your dick if there’s not enough blood in you to get it up.” He laughed that beautiful, rolling laugh that had made Jack fall in love with him. “I know where Talon’s staking out tonight.” He pulled Jack to his feet, then into his embrace. “Let’s go on a dinner date. No harm eating people you wanted to kill anyways, right?”
Jack groaned. “Do you have to say it like that?” he asked. He shoved his face into Gabriel’s chest. It was going to be a long night, he thought as his fangs pushed themselves back into view. Maybe that was a good thing.