Seth by Nero Seal

How on earth did this happen? The realization sharpened his awareness of Seth’s presence. Blood drummed in his temples, but the thirsty blade, swinging dangerously close to his face, cooled his excitement. To avoid tasting steel, Gustavo swayed back. The railings bit into the small of his back, stressing his spine, twisting his nerve endings.

“Do we have to do this again?” Gustavo asked as firmly as he could. He ducked left to dodge another attack, hand seeking the guidance of the railing as he moved toward the corner of the platform. He glanced down. Falling from this height could easily result in a broken neck. “Enough!”

“Enough?” Seth hissed. “I just started.”

Gustavo swallowed, watching rage distort Seth’s features as he slashed at him again. The air punched his face as he dove under a deadly arm, spun around. What the fuck have I done now? He is fucking furious.

Only a few days ago, this fight would have excited him. Now, he wished to take a break to figure out his feelings. He had a million ideas of what he wanted to do to Seth but fighting him, hurting him, was the last thing on the list.

Seth squeezed the daggersso hard his knuckles cracked. Electricity buzzed in his veins. He was sure that if he sliced his skin, he would see blue sparks coming out instead of blood as if the sky itself charged him. “I warned you many times. You should have listened. No one will save you tonight. No one will ever find your body.”

Gustavo didn’t blink, but his face turned into a mask of dispassion. The buttons of his jacket clanged against the metal railings as he pulled at the lapel, revealing the gun tucked under his arm. “I don’t need saving. I’m armed.”

“Use it then, why won’t you?” Seth surged forward, the daggers crisscrossing in the air.

Not losing his composure, Gustavo pushed away from the rails and flattened against the side of the furnace. “Stop. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Hurt me?” Seth laughed at the man’s arrogance. “You can’t possibly hurt me. No one can.”

Seth’s aggression, finding a direction, filled his ears with a pleasant buzzing as he drove his daggers toward the man’s chest.

Heat, coming fromthe open shutter of the furnace, raised the hair at the back of Gustavo’s head as he flattened against the metal wall.

A demonic smile appeared on Seth’s beautiful face. His sharp canine tooth and the side of his face glowed with reflected fire. The muscles bulged under the wet, white shirt, showing through with the most enticing pink. Seth twirled the daggers before squeezing the blades between his index and third fingers. “But I can hurt you.”

Iron claws, protruding from Seth’s fists, charged at Gustavo’s throat in a hail of short jabs. Still wondering if he should pull the gun, Gustavo threw his body left. Heat licked the back of his head. A shudder ran down his spine at the thought that his scalp shrank and withered with the high temperature.

Seth’s smirk faded. His eyes reassessed Gustavo with deadly calm as he once again lifted his weapons, ready for the onslaught.

With the molten glass boiling behind his back and the blood-thirsty blades before him reflecting its fire, Gustavo had to admit that the conversation had reached a dead end. Seth’s back curled, muscles flexed under the wet shirt. He pulled one elbow back, drawing the knife in the shadows of his torso, and surged forward, body twisting. His right hand, coming from the side, targeted Gustavo’s ribs.

Before Gustavo managed to assess the situation, his body moved. His fingers clasped around Seth’s wrists, stopping the daggers, one—a fraction of an inch away from his eye, the other—before his ribs. He blinked, lashes brushing against the tip of the blade.

Sweat beaded on his back, every muscle burning with pressure. The shirt stuck to his skin as heat and adrenaline set his blood on fire. Every thought faded as the sharp blade shifted closer to his eye.

Upper lip twitching with the strain, Gustavo bowed his head right and forced Seth’s wrists away. The daggers swerved as the resistance disappeared. One blade ripped through Gustavo’s jacket and clanged against the metal wall by his flank; the other scratched the side of his throat. Pain blazed, and hot liquid trickled down his collarbone.

Seth leaped backward, breaking free. He glanced down, and his teeth bared. A piece of the thin blade had broken off from the contact with the wall. Giving his weapon a look of disdain, Loco cast the broken dagger aside.

Behind the tall windows, a bright flash tore the stormy night. The light flickered. Using the moment of confusion, Seth kneed him in the stomach. A red glint, like another lightning bolt, flashed before Gustavo’s eyes. His hands flew up on sheer instinct and intercepted the hand before it brought the blade down his shoulder.

Seth growled. His foot turned as he shoved Gustavo in the chest with his shoulder.

The wall melted behind Gustavo’s back. His upper body tilted backward and hovered over the fire river. The immense heat, rising from below, scorched Gustavo’s skin.

Teeth bared, Seth pushed harder.

Gustavo’s muscles trembled as the heel of his shoe lost contact with the ground. His head hovered over the molten glass as Seth’s hips rammed against his own. His awareness shifted to the lower part of his body. Confusion washed over, as he wasn’t sure if the source of the heat was the molten glass or Seth’s thrusting against him. He could even feel the softness of Seth’s cock brushing against his thigh. He swallowed hard. Catching Seth’s glare, he said, “A fair warning: if you keep rubbing against me like this, I’ll get a hard-on.”

Seth’s face contorted in distaste. Fire dancing in his eyes, he leaned against Gustavo with all his weight, chest to chest. “You should have pulled the gun when you had a chance.”

With a roar, Gustavo hurled forward, winning back an inch of lost space. Seth’s teeth bared, and a low, barely audible growl broke from his throat. His neck corded, muscles bulged, and even the veins under his eyes strained with pressure. Gustavo thought that any moment now, his eyeballs would pop out of their sockets. He shook his head, unable to believe how someone like Seth could possess such strength. Gustavo was taller, bulkier, had more mass, but still, inch by inch, his back bent over the rim of the charger. His skin felt like it would start sizzling at any moment; hot sweat rolled down his temples and spine.

“I warned you it’s not a blade that kills but arrogance,” Seth rustled.

The edge of the furnace scraped the small of Gustavo’s back. Seth’s face inched closer, and his right hand abandoned Gustavo’s chest to grab the side of the shutter before he thrust himself forward. The tiny blood vessels in his right eye burst, staining the sclera red.

Does he hate me this much?Gustavo thought, stunned.

“I do enjoy this intimacy, but you are aware that in this position, it’s nearly impossible to throw me down without falling with me, right? Not that I mind. It would be sort of romantic. And they died on the same day, just like Romeo and Juliet.”

Seth laughed; his left palm slapped against the inner wall of the furnace, giving him a fulcrum. “We shall see about that.”

He shoved forward with renewed force. The stench of burned meat filled Gustavo’s lungs. He looked at Seth’s hand and the steam rising from it. “What the fuck are you doing? Are you insane?”

“Insanity is a tasteless word humanity forever uses to taint what they can’t understand.” Seth stared at Gustavo with the unblinking eyes of a snake. His expression didn’t display any pain or discomfort.

Gustavo should have struggled for his life; he knew it. Instead, he grabbed Seth’s wrist and yanked it away from the scorching metal. “You are insane if you think killing me is worth mutilating your hand. How are you going to work with such burns?”

Seth froze. Confusion pooled behind his dilated pupils. He looked at Gustavo as if seeing him for the first time. His onslaught weakened.

It was a perfect moment to pull the gun, but the expression of ultimate loneliness, bleeding through Seth’s unsettled emotions, overruled Gustavo’s sanity. The sole of his foot found the wall behind him; he thrust his chest forward and brushed his lips against Seth’s mouth, pushing him away from the scorching heat.

Rough, dry, firm, the kiss tasted like electricity and rain. It made Gustavo’s lips throb with heat. Seth hurled away as if a whip had hit him across the face. All his confidence, all his hatred disappeared. His eyes widened and he stumbled backward until his back hit the railings.

With his body awareness returning, Gustavo touched the wound on his neck, panting. He glanced at his bloody fingers, then back to Seth. “Damn, you cut me again. Seriously… My feelings are hurt.”

Seth’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. A vortex of thoughts swirled behind his pupils before his cheek flinched, lips parted, and the deathly voice rustled, “Don’t cross my way again.”

Without a word, he slipped down the ladder.

“Wait, Loco. I said, wait!” Gustavo called after him, but his lungs spasmed from the dry, hot air. He doubled over in a coughing fit. When he straightened, Seth had disappeared behind the corner. “You need help. Aren’t you fucking hurt?”

The hurried footsteps died in the distance. Soon, not even the echo reached his ears.

His skin blazed, cock throbbed, uncomfortably tight in his pants. He slammed the shield up, putting all his annoyance into the move, then picked up the pieces of the broken punch dagger. They were still warm. With a smirk, he put them in his pocket, plucked his phone out, and dialed Diego. “Let him go.”

* * *

Pressing a handkerchief to his neck,Gustavo stumbled out of the industrial building and into the rain; his heart still drumming in his chest as adrenaline afterglow shook his fingers. He hadn’t felt this high since the night he first met Seth.

The cut on his neck stung, the bleeding didn’t want to stop, but his wide smile refused to abate. He still felt Seth’s lips against his own, dry and rough. If I knew a kiss could stop him, I would have done it long ago.

A blurry figure cut through the rain, an umbrella glowing in the night with a halo of ricocheted droplets.

“What did you do now? Your Cinderella flew away in such a rush; I’m surprised he didn’t lose his shoe.” The umbrella traveled up, shielding Gustavo from the pouring rain. Diego lifted his chin toward Gustavo’s neck. “You look like shit. What is it, a bite of passion or an attempt to turn you into a vampire?”

With his free hand, Gustavo wiped his face. “Are you tailing him?”

“Yes. We also wired his car.”

“Good. Let’s go home.” Gustavo pushed the factory gates open, returned to the car, and yanked open the rear passenger door.

“Hospital, maybe?” Diego tapped his own neck. “You should see the doctor.”

“No. Summon him home.”

* * *

Flooring the gas pedal,Seth sped through the night as if by testing the limits of his car, he could escape the stinging swarm of confused thoughts. The car skidded over the wet road, colorful streetlights reflecting in the wet asphalt and puddles. He almost crashed three times, yet he never eased the pressure on the accelerator.

He tore his hand away from the steering wheel and ran the back of his palm over his lips in an attempt to erase the lingering sensation of the oddly gentle kiss. He pisses me off.

Gustavo’s words, said in a low, penetrating voice, rang in his ears. “I want to know everything about you. Your every little secret.”

I don’t understand… Why didn’t he pull the gun? How can he be so sure of himself? Or was there someone covering his ass, someone I didn’t see?

Seth lifted his palm to wipe his lips again, but his eyes, losing contact with the road, settled on the red, glossy skin and yellowish, thick bubbles covering his palm. Seth instantly recognized the second-degree burn. Damn it.

Once again, Gustavo’s words came to mind. “You are insane if you think killing me is worth mutilating your hand. How are you going to work with such burns?”

Why does he care?The feeling of loneliness Seth experienced when he’d met Gustavo’s worried gaze returned. Once again, he realized how much he missed the genuine concern if he let such a simple provocation get to him.

Seth growled at his own stupidity and weakness. His fist bumped against the headliner. The sun visor flapped open, and the photo swirled in the air and landed on Seth’s knees.

Seth hit the brakes. The tires shrieked, and the car slid sideways on the wet road.

He blinked, staring into the dark eyes of the boy who had watched the world with the same mocking curiosity as Gustavo.

Huh... Suddenly, Seth realized the origins of his loathing toward Gustavo. He was the same type as his first love—Brian Schütz. A self-confident, two-faced, manipulative bully who hid behind the mask of superficial kindness. Hatred filled his chest. Driven by an urge, he shoved his hand into his pocket, grabbed a lighter, stroke the spark wheel, and set the corner of the photograph on fire. The flames turned blue and green as it ate up the glossy surface. Smoke filled the compartment. Seth slid the window down and tossed the burning photo away. He blew a breath out and looked at the lighter. Silver and slim, it was the last physical memory he had left from Flames.

Hatred spiking, Seth ground his teeth and tossed the lighter into the glovebox. I made a mistake.I should have killed Gustavo.

He was about to turn the wheel and drive back to the factory when his phone rang. The unfamiliar number made him frown. Still, he swiped his finger over the screen. He didn’t say anything, sure that his words would be lost in such nasty weather.

“Seth?” Hesitant and shy, Ignaz’s voice stopped his heart. He closed the window and turned the engine off, leaving the car standing on the roadside. “I wasn’t sure if I should call. You said I can…”

“Something happened?”

“N-no… I just… My roommate brought a man in, and I couldn’t stay. I would just walk the streets like I usually do, but it’s pouring. I don’t want to bother—”

“Where are you?”

* * *

Skipping every second step,Gustavo rushed upstairs into the bathroom. He turned the lights on and examined the slightly oozing wound on the side of his neck. It looked insultingly deep for a scratch. Still, the knife missed the vein.

Grabbing a bottle of hydrogen peroxide, he splashed a fair amount on a clean towel, then pressed it to his neck. The sting sharpened, making him wince. Gustavo ground his teeth.

“Where have you been? I’ve been waiting for you, you know? I could’ve been clubbing.” Hans’ annoyed voice came from behind, and Gustavo threw a glare in the mirror. Wearing only boxers, the young man scratched his belly, then yawned. “What is it? You are bleeding…”

The capricious notes in Hans’ voice sent a needle of irritation into Gustavo’s heart. “Oh really? I’m bleeding? I haven’t fucking noticed, thank you for telling me!”

“What the fuck is going on? I’m calling Diego.” Hans turned to leave.

“You don’t have to. He is downstairs.”

“You met that murderer again, didn’t you? And Diego did nothing…” Without waiting for Gustavo to reply, Hans stormed out of the bathroom.

* * *

After giving him an antibiotic shot,the young doctor whose name Gustavo instantly forgot, seemingly did everything to make closing the wound as painful as possible. The bloody shirt lay by his feet as Gustavo sat on the couch, bare-chested.

Diego and Rafael propped the wall on either side of the door. Standing in similar positions and wearing identical grins, they resembled creepy statues from a wax museum.

“Is it the right time to say, “I told you so”?” Diego said as the doctor pressed the wound hard enough for Gustavo to draw air through his teeth.

“¡Cuidado, cabrón!¹” Gustavo slapped the leather surface of the couch, subconsciously slipping into his native language.

“Please, speak German,” the doctor replied, gluing a Steri-Strip to his neck. “I don’t speak… what is it, Spanish?”

“Where did you find him?” Gustavo mouthed to Diego, finger drawing a question mark in the air.

Diego’s grin turned all teeth; he tapped his watch with his index finger, then shrugged. Turning his attention away from his boss, he stretched an open palm to Rafael.

“He didn’t die,” Rafael uttered; his expression tightened. With his arms folded over his chest, he stared at Diego with a hard challenge.

“The bet was that Loco would slice his throat. We never mentioned if Gustavo would die or not,” Diego argued. His black jacket tightened around his shoulders as he squinted at the bodyguard, accepting the challenge.

The silence condensed.

After what felt like forever, Rafael sighed. Unwillingly, he took out a twenty and slapped the bill against Diego’s palm.

“Muchas gracias.²”

“De nada³,” Rafael snarled.

“Twenty?” Gustavo stirred, slapped the doctor’s hands away from his neck, and got up. “You bet twenty on my fucking life? This is insulting. You’re both fired.”

“How’s that my fault? Rafa is super stingy with money.” Diego protested.

Coming to the door, Gustavo snatched the bill out of Diego’s grip. “I’m taking this!”

Diego gaped, then growled, “Give it back.”

“I refuse.” Gustavo lifted his chin. “This is my moral compensation. As a victim, I reserve the right to keep all the profit earned from my misery.”

Rafael laughed. Diego glared. Hans, who silently stood at the farthest corner of the office, huffed. His feet pressed against the wall, revealing a perfect bend of his leg covered with soft, light hair. His arms crossed in front of his naked chest as he drilled Gustavo with his glare.

Noticing his distress, Gustavo came over. His palm slapped against the wall, inches away from Hans’ ear. “Could it be you are jealous?”

“Over whom? A mad dog? Don’t make me laugh!” Slapping Gustavo’s hand away, he tried to squeeze toward the door. Gustavo blocked his way with his shoulder.

Gustavo’s phone chimed. Breaking eye contact with Hans for a brief second, he fished the device out of his pocket and forwarded the email to Diego without looking at it.

Another phone chimed. Gustavo raised his eye on the pissed-off face of his lover. An uncomfortable silence filled the room, followed by a rustle and the sound of the door closing.

“Why not?”

“You are sick if you ask this.” Annoyance dripped from Hans’ every pore; he pushed Gustavo’s chest with both hands. “Maybe you should go and fuck him then if he interests you more than a night with me.”

“Are you trying to seduce me?” Gustavo couldn’t suppress his grin and instantly received a punch in the chest.

“No, I’m not. He could have killed you,” Hans pushed through gritted teeth, and his clean-cut jaw bulged with pressure.

“He didn’t.”

“He could have,” Hans insisted. “And over what? What is it, Gustavo, a mid-life crisis? Or maybe I am not enough? Not crazy? Not dangerous? Should I slit your throat to make you interested?”

“You are cute when you are jealous,” Gustavo provoked in a low voice. “Or, maybe, it’s your wounded pride?”

“Fuck off.” Hans pushed his way out with his shoulder, but Gustavo wrapped his arms around his narrow waist. Forcing Hans to face him, he captured the full lips with his own.

“I’m not interested in him that way,” Gustavo uttered against the tight slash of Hans’ mouth, unsure who he tried to persuade more, his lover or himself.

The ice in Hans’ eyes melted. His chin jerked, and he started to reply to the kiss with small, occasional movements of his jaw. The tip of Gustavo’s tongue traced the rim of his lips, teasingly, playfully. With a jerk of his cheek, Hans opened his mouth, letting him in.

Slipping his palms down the back of Hans’ thighs, he picked him up and sat him on top of his desk. The deep-seated thirst that had been torturing him ever since he kissed Seth, hit his groin in a powerful wave of heat. Fingers looped in the waistband of Hans’ cotton trunks and peeled them off his hips.

Pink and long, Hans’ semi-hard cock curled to his inner thigh. Gustavo’s mouth watered. He ripped the drawer open and grasped a bottle of lube.

“Condom too.” Hans frowned, propping both arms against the table behind him. “I hate it when you cum inside.”

The capricious tone made Gustavo want to bathe this beautiful body in cum and sweat, and see Hans bite his lips bloody, disgusted and aroused at the same time. To mar him inside and out so he would spend hours in the bathroom, scrubbing his skin raw.

“Don’t think so,” Gustavo cooed; lust scalded. He squirted some lube onto his palm and pressed his fingertips to the crack of Hans’ ass, gently rubbing his way toward the tender opening. “Tonight, I want to make you sticky and filthy.”

“No-no-no-no-no…” Hans rounded his back, palms pressing against Gustavo’s chest. He shook his head, golden hair flying around.

The heat of Hans’ palms against his pecs and his resistance magnified Gustavo’s desire making his cock swell in his pants. He leaned into his lover, pressed his lips to the top of his head, inhaling his clean, sweet scent. Hans had always smelled good. A fascinating mix of melon, apple, sandalwood, and musk cocooned him in year-round summer that fitted his surfer look.

“It’s okay, you’ll love it. You always do.” His index finger breached the tight sphincter and wrenched its way up Hans’ ass. Soft and hot, the insides pulsed, tightly wrapping around him.

A shuddering sigh seized Hans’ chest. The blond head tossed back, and the smooth chin brushed against Gustavo’s cheek as the young man’s resistance weakened and he leaned back on his elbows. Gentle and quick, Gustavo’s teeth nibbled at the sharp jawline, then traveled down the throat, leaving a wet trail of biting kisses behind.

Gustavo crooked his finger to rub the prostate bud. Hans moaned. His shins brushed against Gustavo’s flanks as he closed his legs around his waist, welcoming the sensation. His short nails clawed the smooth wood of the desk, and his cock surged up to cling to his stomach. The hooded head left a wet print where it pressed to the skin. “Yes, there…”

His greedy lips slid down the velvety skin of Hans’ chest, then hovered over the belly button. With the tip of his tongue, he teased the hollow. Hans’ feet released their hold and found the edge of the desk before he pushed his hips up. Watching Gustavo with misted eyes, he lifted a hand, sank his fingers into Gustavo’s hair, and guided the man’s head toward his cock.

Such honesty amused him. Gustavo’s finger, changing direction, gently tugged at the slick walls of the rectum as he obeyed the silent command and wrapped his lips around the crown of Hans’ cock.

Using his feet as leverage, Hans thrust up, reaching deep into Gustavo’s throat. The sweetness of his slick mixed with the sour taste of the excessive saliva, provoked by the cockhead hitting the sensitive points in his throat. Gustavo gulped, then tried to relax, adapting to the frantic movement of the impetuous youth.

Blinking the fog from his eyes, he held the cock down his throat as long as he could, swallowing around the thickness, until his lungs burned from lack of oxygen. Working his jaw, he drew back. The sweetness in his mouth increased as the tip of his tongue swirled around the slick cockhead, teased the slit.

“Oh God, yes!” Hans moaned, head tossing to the side. Fingers fisting Gustavo’s hair, Hans forced him back down his length.

Gustavo smirked against Hans’ sex and added another finger. The ring of Hans’ inner muscles tightened around his knuckles, relaxed, then slowly accepted them.

Gustavo’s cock leaked. The precum pooled in his trunks. The cotton fabric, absorbing the moisture, chilled and clung to his heated flesh. With his free hand, he undid his pants and pushed them down. Pulling his fingers out of Hans’ ass, he grabbed the lube and generously smeared the clear gel all over his cock.

The pulsing thickness in Gustavo’s mouth swelled. Sharpening his tongue, he teased the slit, mixing his saliva with the sweet drops of precum. Under his caresses, Hans’ body shuddered, and he rocked his hips forward, aiming to crawl back into the welcoming throat.

Gustavo seized the thrashing hips as his nose hit the soft, trimmed hair of Hans’ groin. The musky scent crawled into his lungs, messing with his mind. The pungent smell of arousal accelerated his desire, pushing him to the edge of sanity. His cock rocked in the air, wanting to fill the hole, to feel the slick hotness squeeze around it, squeezing out every drop of his desire.

His chest burned, veins popped on the back of his hands when he collapsed onto the sweaty chest. His cock nudged the lubed anus, hips thrust forward, and his length plunged into the hot insides.

Hans’ nails stabbed his shoulders; his inner muscles clenched. A low hiss escaped his throat as he tossed his head back. He tensed, blew the air out of his lungs, and habitually relaxed. His cock poked Gustavo’s stomach, and his heels dug in the man’s buttocks as his greedy hole devoured the length. Watching pain and pleasure race through Hans’ body, Gustavo brushed the papers off his desk and leaned in, resting Hans’ back against the cool wood; golden curls splayed around Hans’ head like a halo.

His nose nudged Hans’ neck, and the sweet scent of his skin filled his lungs, enticing, intoxicating. His breathing sped up; desire drummed in his ears. Licking and kissing the pulsing vein beneath Hans’ earlobe, he got drunk on his gentle scent, the heat of his body, and the tightness of his embrace.

Hans’ nails dug into his skin and tore down, leaving behind burning trails.

“Easy, kitty,” Gustavo chuckled as he pulled away for air, and his gaze landed on the scattered pictures on the floor. The clandestine photographs of Seth mixed with the snaps of tall, elegant skyscrapers once again captured his attention. He remembered the pink nipples showing through the wet, white shirt, the faint scent of myrrh, and the hard press of Seth’s hips against his own. His memory sharpened on the confusion and loneliness bleeding through Seth’s anger.

Gustavo’s hips moved; soft moans caressed his cheek, but his thoughts traveled far away, to the glass factory and Seth’s burning gaze.

Hans shuddered, tensed, as the inner ring of his muscles clenched around Gustavo’s cock, draining him of his own orgasm.