Seth by Nero Seal

The car pulled to a stop,raising a cascade of water into the air. Seth opened the door and stepped into the rain. Water filled his eyes. He tried to blink it off, but new torrents soaked him through. The three-story buildings loomed in the night, every window dark, and even the streetlights stood turned off. Seth wondered if the storm de-energized this part of the city as his headlights seemed to be the only source of light.

The lightning blazed, blue sparks reflecting in every drop of water.

“You really came?” A voice drifting from behind made Seth spin. His shoes soaked through as he stepped into a puddle. Sitting on the porch of an old building, knees to his chest, Ignaz looked like a wet sparrow. With a cowlick on a side, he stared at Seth, bewildered. “Why?”

Instead of answering, Seth twitched his head toward the car. When the boy didn’t move, he came closer and offered his hand. Shaky fingers hesitantly covered his palm, Ignaz got to his feet. His t-shirt clung to his torso like a second skin. He licked his bluish lips, and Seth, having no hope to outvoice the storm, once again lifted his chin toward the car.

Ignaz nodded, splashing through the puddles, not caring about his cheap running shoes getting wet, or maybe they have already been soaked through so wetness didn’t bother him anymore. When he got in the car, Seth took the driver’s seat and turned on the heater. He sped through the night, wanting to get home as soon as possible.

* * *

Using the smart home app,Seth turned on the lights in the garage and stepped out of the car. He heard the soft exhale of the shutter rolling down, but didn’t turn around. During the drive, they didn’t exchange a word, still with every passing second Seth’s thoughts, one by one, left Gustavo and concentrated on Ignaz. His awareness of the boy returned, making him notice small tremors rushing through his limbs, his hastened breathing, and low chattering of his teeth.

“Undress here. I’ll load the washer.” Grabbing a bamboo basket from a shelf, Seth placed it on the car hood and tugged off his shirt without unbuttoning it. Not looking at his companion, he tossed the shirt into the basket. “You can use the shower here or go upstairs.”

From the corner of his eye, he saw Ignaz’s gaze following the light movement of his chin and how the boy nodded. His hesitant fingers fumbled over the hem of his shirt, and Seth wondered where this shyness came from. Not long ago, he bent over the spanking horse, shamelessly pushing his ass back.

To distract himself and give Ignaz space, he turned away, fingers struggling with his now useless belt with only one dagger remaining. His injured palm, stiff and tight, refused to bend. Gustavo was right; with a hand like this, I won’t be able to do anything for at least a couple of weeks.

Using his right hand only, he unfastened his jeans, then stepped out of his shoes. He hooked his thumbs into his waistband, but wet denim stuck to his legs and refused to let go.

“Seth…”

“Hm?”

“Thank you…”

Seth whirled. For a moment, he peered into the bottomless pools of Ignaz’s eyes, then nodded.

Under his gaze, Ignaz paled. “What’s with your eyes?”

Seth blinked before dragging his attention to a round mirror facing the garage entrance. From it, his reflection glared at him with one eye bloodshot, the other reddened too but without signs of subconjunctival bleeding. Now, more than ever, he resembled the dying god from his dreams.

“An allergy, probably,” he lied, still staring in the mirror.

Behind him, Ignaz parted his lips as if he wanted to say something, but he quickly changed his mind, dropped his chin, and hurried to the shower.

Seth’s heart thundered in his chest. His whole being protested against letting Ignaz out of sight. He wanted to follow the boy and lock his embrace around his slender form. Instead, he forced his attention to his jeans. He snaked his palms between the denim and his skin and applied more pressure. The fabric gave in, moved lower. He pushed harder, and a few bubbles on his palm burst.

Fuck…Releasing a sigh of irritation, he tried again, using only his right hand. The fabric scraped his left hip, skin reddening as he finally tore the jeans down.

The sound of running water drifted from behind. Tossing his jeans into the basket, Seth went to the laundry room and loaded the washing machine. He rarely used it, preferring to send clothes for dry cleaning, but he didn’t want to leave a wet mess behind.

When he returned to the garage, Ignaz was already out and wrapped in a terry-cloth towel. Fingers fumbling with the fabric, he didn’t meet Seth’s eyes.

“Order food if you’re hungry or go upstairs. Spare clothes are in the wardrobe.” Seth said as he passed him on his way to the shower. He pulled the glass door open and stepped in, then turned the water on. The energizing streams hit his head, quieting his thoughts and the distancing footfalls of bare feet.

When Seth broughthot tea upstairs, Ignaz was already in bed. With the duvet tugged over his head, he lay on his side and didn’t stir even when Seth called his name. The cup clanged against the nightstand as he set it down. After waiting a second longer, Seth left the room. The door softly slid into the frame as he ambled into the master bathroom.

Bronze fittings and the black stone contrasted with the golden glass of the shelves. He pulled the white box with a red cross on a side from out of the closet and carried it to the bedroom. Behind the panoramic window, the dawn broke, and the first stripe of pink rippled over the horizon, separating the sleeping earth and the gloomy sky. Seth didn’t turn the light on, hoping that the first sun rays would be enough for him to treat his minor injury.

He perched on the corner of the bed, flipped the lead of the first aid box open, and grabbed the ointment. Squeezing the cap between his teeth, he tried to unscrew it, but his teeth only slipped over the soft plastic, leaving deep grooves over the ridges.

The bedroom door creaked open.

“Seth? Are you sleeping yet? Mind if I turn on the light?”

Before Seth managed to reply, the yellow light blazed through the room, illuminating black wood. The red and golden glass adornments sparkled. Seth turned his head and zeroed in on the slender frame of Ignaz, dressed in the same linen clothes Seth wore. His light eyebrows squished together as he stared at the first aid box and Seth’s palm.

“What happened?” Ignaz darted across the plain black carpet. His fingers, surprisingly strong, seized Seth’s hand and wrenched it palm up.

“It’s nothing.” Teeth releasing the cap, Seth looked up. “Do you need something?”

Ignaz frowned. “What is it, a burn? Give this to me.” The mattress dipped under his knee as he nestled next to Seth and snatched the ointment out of Seth’s grasp. “How did this happen?”

The scowl on the porcelain forehead deepened. Effortlessly, he unscrewed the lid then squirted the creamy paste over Seth’s palm. Quick fingers lifted a metal applicator, smeared the paste all over the red and yellow bubbly skin.

“An accident.” Tiny fractions of light dancing on the edges of Ignaz’s lashes sparkled. Once again, Seth wondered how he hadn’t noticed him before. His head lightened; the edges of his vision blurred.

“When? How? Why did you come to me with such an injury?” Ignaz lifted his face so quickly that their gazes clashed. In the depth of Ignaz’s eyes, Seth saw a question morphing into realization and then into something else, similar to fright.

To break the stretching silence, Seth said, “It’s nothing.”

“Nothing? It looks painful.” The light brows drew up in a mix of sympathy and guilt. Seth shook his head. “Liar. You say that to make me feel better.”

Seth shook his head again. Ignaz squinted up then snatched a gauze wrap from the first aid box. “Hold up your hand.”

Quickly, carefully, he bandaged Seth’s hand as if he had done it a million times before. A tip of his tongue stuck from the corner of his mouth in concentration. His head inched lower, and his soft, slightly damp hair brushed against Seth’s chin.

Seth stopped breathing; his head swam. Sitting in such intimate proximity, he feared that any word, any movement, would break the moment. When he couldn’t hold his breath anymore, he inhaled the fresh scent of his own shampoo. Sweet and heady, it intoxicated him with the ancient scent of myrrh. His neck bent as his lips brushed against the top of Ignaz’s head.

“Done!” The boy lifted his face, nearly headbutting him in his chin, smiled, but his expression obscured as their eyes met. The following words left his mouth in whispers. “Please, don’t look at me like this.”

Seth’s heart halted. His lips managed a silent question. “Like what?”

“Like I’m precious. Because I’m not…”

Staying close became unbearable; Seth got up. Pulling his bandaged hand out of Ignaz’s grasp, he retreated to the window. “Thank you. I appreciate your help. Was there anything you need?”

“No… I just came to thank you for coming again. It was freezing tonight.”

Seth nodded, looking at the clearing sky. The wind herded clouds, chasing them west, clearing the way for the red eye of the waking sun.

“Seth, do you…” He didn’t finish, his voice melted in the silence.

The fleeting feeling of happiness evaporated. Gaze flickering over the landscape, Seth sensed Ignaz’s concern, but he couldn’t find anything to say. “It’s been a long day. You should sleep. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

Silence stretched. Seth wondered what the boy was waiting for when Ignaz got up. His gaze stayed on his back for a long, uncomfortable moment before the light footsteps shuffled away and the door closed.

* * *

Irritated beyond reason,Gustavo turned the screen off and brushed his hand against the adhesive bandage stuck to the side of his throat. A dark and ugly substance substituted his soul and pulsed in the pit of his stomach. After their kiss, he hoped to see Seth flustered, confused, agitated, but he seemed completely unfazed by their meeting if a little annoyed. Gustavo could work with annoyance. It was still better than nothing, but a single call seemingly wiped him out of Seth’s mind. Like a puppy, Seth rushed after the boy and brought him home. Gustavo wasn’t sure what enraged him more, the way Seth looked at Ignaz or the fact that he looked like this at someone else.

The train of his furious thoughts sped toward the precipice of sanity. He couldn’t understand the urgency, the need that boiled in his blood, but after tasting Seth’s lips, he couldn’t find rest. He carried no illusions toward Seth, and he certainly didn’t intend to get intimate with him, then why the fuck did this boy’s presence rub him the wrong way?

A ringtone shuttered the night’s seclusion. Gustavo filled his lungs with air, then released a calming breath before picking up. A phone cooled his ear as he stared at the screen of his laptop, showing a master bedroom and the boy attending to Seth’s needs.

“Yes?”

“Did you see that email you forwarded me, or you are still balls deep in Hans?”

“No to both.”

“Go ahead; it’s amusing. I’ll hold.”

The phone clanged against the desk. In a heartbeat, Gustavo was glued to the screen, staring at the car speeding through the night. The tires screeched on the wet asphalt, raising cascades of water in the air. A smug smile crawled up his face as he glanced at the time of the footage. I did get to you, after all. Good.

On the second file, the car skidded sideways, the driver’s window slid down, and a piece of burning paper landed on the ground. Steam rose as the rain extinguished flames.

“What did he burn?”

“That’s the most interesting question.” The complacent voice with the ringing smile in it suggested Diego already knew the answer.

The last file attached appeared to be the image of a burned photograph. Only the left bottom corner of what looked like an old portrait had survived the flames, but Gustavo instantly recognized the uniform of the burned-down summer camp. “What the hell?”

“Are you missing anything?” Diego purred, voice dripping with self-importance.

“Do you know which one?”

“I’ll tell you if you admit I’m the best thing that has ever happened to you in your life,” Diego crooned.

“Do you really want me to tell you such a vicious lie?” Gustavo snorted.

“Okay, you obviously don’t want my help. I’m hanging up…”

“Wait-wait-wait…” Gustavo couldn’t hold back a laugh. “Fine. Diego, you are a shitty friend, a degenerate gambler, a self-seeker, but unfortunately, I can’t deny your usefulness, or I would have put you down long ago.”

“Fuck you!” A squeal of indignation coming from the speakers had Gustavo cackling as he imagined Diego’s handsome face twist with a put-on insult.

“Come on, now tell me.”

“You don’t deserve my help and friendship, but I’m in a generous mood. His name was Brian Schütz.”

Gustavo strained his memory, but only a distant fog stirred at the corner of his consciousness. “I don’t remember him.”

“No wonder. He looks nothing like Mayr’s usual prey.”

A notification popped up at the right corner of the screen. Gustavo clicked it. The old photo of a boy, who looked older than his sixteen years, filled the screen. The burning gaze of his black eyes peered at Gustavo with immense confidence. His dark hair, parted on the side, glossed under the light. His cheeks had already lost the tenderness of youth.

“Oh, yeah, I remember seeing him. You are right; he doesn’t look like Seth’s type.”

“But he does look like you.”

“Don’t speak nonsense,” Gustavo snorted, looked closer, but shook his head. “If it’s his type, Seth should be after my ass.”

“Or… Seth doesn’t have a type.”

“Hm?”

“If he burned the summer camp, he killed fifty people. It makes him a mass murderer.”

“It doesn’t explain why he burned only this photograph.”

“Maybe yes, maybe no. He could have tried to mess with our heads.” Diego insisted.

Gustavo considered the possibility for a second, then shook his head. “It would be too obvious. If he stole it, he would expect us to miss it sooner or later. He didn’t need to put on such a show. I think it’s an act of hatred.”

“Okay,” Diego easily agreed. “Is anything else missing?”

“I’ll check.”

“Call me if you find something.”

Diego terminated the call, and the phone’s screen dimmed. For a few more minutes, Gustavo sat in the dark, staring at the portrait of the boy, then turned on the lights and pulled the folder out of his drawer.

An hour later, he rocked in his chair, watching the sky ripple with colors behind the window. The folder lay closed by his feet. Gustavo ransacked through the folder twice, but only one photograph was missing—Brian Schütz’s.

* * *

Seth lay with his eyesopen. The pink hue on the black ceiling turned to orange, then yellow, before settling to cold white. Sleep eluded him as, instead of resting, he listened to the silence as if trying to detect Ignaz’s presence in the suddenly too big villa.

Sometime around ten, after his watch buzzed for the sixth time, the low creak of the door being pulled open in the distance made his heart slam against his ribcage. His ears strained, and soon he could make out the soft steps of bare feet approaching his door.

Did he come to say he’s leaving? The minute before the door opened stretched into eternity. Why is he wavering?

Seth closed his eyes, not sure why. He didn’t mean to pretend to be asleep. Still, he kept his eyelids shut. Maybe a part of him was too curious to see what Ignaz would do next, or perhaps, he didn’t want to see him fully dressed and ready to leave? Maybe both, Seth couldn’t say, and he didn’t want to analyze his behavior, not when Ignaz stood so close to him.

A soft rustle, a hesitant slap of bare feet against the wood, a shuddered breath, then silence.

“Seth…” A whisper so weak and irresolute, it sounded almost frightened. Seth turned his head and looked up. Standing before the bed, Ignaz crumpled the hem of his linen shirt. His chest rose and fell in a hastened breath, gaze cast downward. “Sorry. Did I wake you?”

Seth shook his head, rose on an elbow.

Ignaz lifted his chin and leveled Seth with a serious gaze. “I can’t warm up. And I don’t want to be alone. Do you mind if I sleep here, with you?”

Without a word, Seth lifted the duvet and moved aside to clear space next to him. Ignaz stepped forward. The mattress dipped under his weight as he kneeled on the corner. Putting one hand before the other, he settled on his side. The sliver of space between them felt like an unbounded gulf because their skin never touched. Unsure what to do, Seth lowered the duvet and tugged it over the slender shoulders. He didn’t attempt to get closer, yet he didn’t shuffle away either. His every hair rose in attention as his heart pounded in his chest.

He closed his eyes, ignoring the gaze full of wonder, then tensed as Ignaz’s head moved over his shoulder and the light hair brushed against his cheek. With his whole body, Ignaz pressed to his side, shivering. He sucked a breath in as his fingers dug into Seth’s ribs. “Ahh, you are so warm…

Painfully aware of every edge of the young body, Seth wrapped his arms around the slender back and tucked Ignaz closer to him.

“Sleep.”

* * *

Gustavo’s jaw lockedas he watched Seth lift the duvet and let the boy into his bed. The fire of jealousy boiled in his blood, burning through his insides. He couldn’t believe how quickly Seth had forgotten their fight and the burned body, how easily he let Ignaz into his bed.

Maybe Diego is right? I searched for a deeper meaning in his murders, but he is just a cold-blooded psychopath on a hunt.

With an irritable hand, he lifted his laptop and threw it against the wall to stop himself from watching Seth any further.

Furious at himself, he returned to his bed and Hans’ embrace, but even there, thoughts about Seth haunted him. He couldn’t forget the look full of loneliness and the taste of his dry lips. The image of Narcissus he’d carelessly tagged to Seth once again surfaced in his mind, as in every move, every position of Seth’s head, he saw the perfection of a living statue. When his body ached from immobility, but sleep still refused to take him, he crawled out of the bed.

Once in his office, he grabbed a spare laptop and entered the DarkNet. He had a specific request in mind—one usual connections couldn’t fulfill. He’d harbored this request at the back of his mind for years.

* * *

Seth had never liked sharinghis bed. Entangled limbs, skin rubbing against skin, the softness of the other body, it’d always felt too intimate, unnecessarily intimate. Weak too, as if by allowing someone to watch him sleep, he showed them his weakness. But the hope revolted him the most. The hope to wake up and find that person by his side, languid and appeased after a long sleep. This silly, unnecessary feeling had always sparked in the depth of his chest, no matter how many times he had tried to extinguish it.

Right now, even without opening his eyes, he could tell he was alone in his bed.

He spent another moment hiding in the darkness of his shut eyelids, as if trying to postpone the meeting with the cruel reality. Seconds ticked; he unwillingly tore his eyelids open, fragments of his dream fading in the bright light streaming through the window. He automatically glanced to his left. The sight of crumpled, abandoned sheets confirmed his prediction. He tried not to let the disappointment into his soul, but the sour taste still filled his mouth. He wanted to spit it out as if by doing so, he could alleviate the heaviness from his chest.

He got up, shuffled to the bathroom, and took a quick shower. Avoiding looking at his still red eye he brushed his teeth, shaved, and then slipped into clean pants as if keeping his routine going could make him feel normal again, but the darkness in his chest thickened. His sleeve weighted with absorbed moisture coming from the wet bandage, reminding him of Ignaz and his light touch. He lifted his hand, and a wet white snake slapped against his elbow.

Lips thinning out, he tore the gauze off. Loop by loop, the bandage, unwrapping, revealed the maimed skin. He tossed the wet dressing into the garbage can and fled the room, escaping the memories of his night guest lingering in the folds of the crumpled sheets. He needed to change them to once again feel like this room belonged to him and him alone.

He rushed downstairs but halted in the doorway to the familiar image of Ignaz serving breakfast. The boy turned and gave him a shy smile, the smile Seth had learned to adore. The knot in his chest releasing, he leaned his shoulder against the door jamb and returned the smile. His darkness disappeared.

They sat in silence,Ignaz’s quick fingers fixing a fresh dressing over his burn. The view of his pink tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth filled Seth’s chest with blissful serenity. It brought to Ignaz’s face such an ingenuous expression that Seth once again wondered how such a pure, glowing with innocence person became the worst pain slut. He wished he could ask, but their relationship wasn’t this intimate, not yet anyway.

“Done.” Ignaz smiled, set the first aid box aside, and reached for the glass of orange juice.

With his interest in the boy growing, Seth asked, “Does it happen often?”

“Hm?” Glass clanging against teeth, Ignaz looked at Seth over the rim, eyes clouding with suspicion.

“You, staying outside all night.”

“Oh…” The glass returned to the kitchen island. The bony shoulders raised and fell in a hesitant shrug. “Sometimes. When you rent a room with someone else, it ought to happen.” Ignaz offered a fake, cheerful smile. “Usually, I go to a club or walk streets if it’s warm enough. Yesterday was nasty. I shouldn’t have bothered you.”

“I’m glad you did.”

A hesitant glance lingered, and Ignaz’s eyes darkened. “You look at me like this again. Why?”

“I might have a proposition for you.” It was Seth’s time to offer a fake smile because everything inside him boiled with nervous excitement.

“A proposition?” Ignaz dipped a suspicious brow, paling a fraction. His pink tongue outlined his plump lips betraying his nervousness.

“Yes. My hand seems to be completely useless. I need help, but I don’t like strangers in the house. Would you mind staying with me for a while, at least when you don’t have to work?” Before Ignaz managed to refuse, Seth added, “And while you help me, I will help you.”

“How can you help me if your hand is useless?” Ignaz asked.

“There’re many ways to please you that won’t require me using both hands. I can show you if you let me.”

“Fine…” Ignaz’s chin dipped before he peered up, the feverish flames of the all-consuming thirst blazing behind his pupils. “But don’t break my rules.”

“No warming up, sex, kissing, hugging, caressing, or skin-to-skin contact during the scene,” Seth confirmed.

Ignaz nodded.

“It’s a deal then.” Seth got up, came to the cupboard, and tugged the top drawer out. A slim white card rested at the bottom as a reminder that he still needed to hire cleaning staff. Turning to Ignaz, he passed the card to him. “Take it.”

The card transferred hands; Ignaz smiled.