Page 13 of Psycho
August pushed Lucas’s knees apart, leaning in until the blade pierced his skin, red blooming across the snowy white fabric of his dress shirt. “You can keep the knife if it makes you feel better. I don’t want you to be afraid of me.”
Lucas’s brows knit together. “Why?”
“Why?” August echoed, making no attempt to hide his amusement, seemingly unworried about the fact that he was now bleeding, leaning in even more, like he’d let the knife sink into the hilt just to be closer to Lucas.
Lucas had to be dreaming, or maybe he shouldn’t have taken his meds with that shot of whiskey, but he’d just wanted a single night of peace. But that was long gone. “Yeah. Why don’t you want me to be afraid of you? Why do you even care what I think?”
“Because I want you,” August said simply.
“For what?” Lucas blurted.
August’s gaze raked over him, all trace of amusement leaving, replaced with a raw hunger that made Lucas shiver. “For many things. But none of that can happen until I know you believe me.”
Lucas pulled the knife free of August’s chest, setting it on the bed beside him. “You’re bleeding.”
“I’m fine.” He lifted Lucas’s hands and pressed them to his face, eyes closing, like August was in need of comforting. “Do it.”
Lucas shook his head at the other man’s stubbornness. He took a deep breath and dropped his shields, opening his mind to August, bracing himself for whatever came next. But there was no blood. No screaming. This time, the visions were…orderly, like August was guiding him somehow. There were files and computer screens, flashes of mugshots, a conference room of men, faces pinned to a white board. There was no one image that proved August’s words, but he could feel the truth of them.
Lucas opened his eyes, still cupping August’s face. “You’re…a superhero.”
August laughed, the sound rich and smooth, pouring over Lucas like cool water. “You’re the one with superpowers. But we don’t kill innocent people. It’s against the rules. I won’t hurt you.”
Lucas believed him. He just didn’t know what to do with that information. It explained everything and nothing. They were total strangers. Yet, they were sitting in Lucas’s apartment in the dead of night, August on his knees and Lucas half naked, sharing an experience more intimate than sex to Lucas.
“Why did you break into my house?”
August’s gaze lowered, his expression sullen. “You never called or texted. I needed to see you.”
“You needed to see me?” Lucas parroted.
August looked up, nodding earnestly. “Very much.”
Lucas blinked. “You needed to see me, so your first thought was to bypass my complicated as fuck security system to break into my house to watch me while I slept? You could have texted me, you know.”
August shrugged. “You didn’t give me your number.”
“I didn’t give you the code to my alarm system either, but that didn’t slow you down too much,” Lucas pointed out.
“Would you have let me come over if I had? Texted you?” August asked, sounding genuinely curious.
Lucas thought about it. Would he have allowed August to enter his home knowing what he knew? “I don’t know,” he answered honestly. “But you can’t just break into my house every time you want to see me.”
“Alright,” August said, voice cheery, as if he’d won a major point in whatever weird contract they appeared to be negotiating. “Can I kiss you again?”
Lucas felt a bemused smile starting to form. “No.”
August pouted. “Fine. Can I stay with you tonight?”
“What? No?”
“Why not?” August pressed, clearly offended.
Lucas floundered. “What do you mean, why not? Because you’re a stranger, Batman or not.”
“What if I promise not to touch you?”
That was the problem. Lucas wanted August to touch him. That part of him that had once believed in logic and reason had died, leaving behind the worst, most reckless parts of Lucas. The parts that wanted August to stay, wanted him to touch him. How long had it been since Lucas had let anybody close to him in that way? “Why do you want to stay?”
