Page 61 of A Thousand Cuts

He braced one hand on the slippery tiled wall and fucked into the tight ring of his fist once, twice, almost giving in to pleasure before Liam’s voice rang through the cramped space.

“Fix?”

Fix scrambled out of the shower, opened the bathroom door dripping wet, and poked his head out.

“You okay, honey?” he called out.

“Curses,” he heard Liam say, and he rushed to wrap a towel around his waist, power walking to the small kitchen.

Liam stood at the counter, glaring at it like he could make it catch fire just by looking at it.

“Where?” he asked, and Liam looked up, breath hitching as his eyes ran all over Fix’s body.

He’d never been more aware of how naked he was, water running between his pecs and through his chest hair. His cursemark exposed to the air. His tattoos on full display. Liam found every single place with his eyes, and it felt like hands running over his skin, the tent growing between his legs too large to conceal.

He watched Liam swallow heavily, licking his lips. They were both in dangerous territory.

“Liam?” he said, voice thick and heavy with desire.

Liam snapped out of it, turning his hips away as if he were hiding his own reaction to seeing Fix so undone. It took everything in him not to drop the towel, pin Liam against the countertop, and grind them together to find out.

Fuck.

“Toaster, and drawer, and water,” Liam said breathlessly, eyes never leaving Fix’s chest. It made him want to preen, to step closer and see what happened, but there were more pressing matters.

He went for his marker in his discarded jeans and broke the curses one by one. The toaster stopped burning all the slices of bread, the drawer slid open with no issues, and the water faucet stopped dripping. By the end of it, his hard-on was gone and so was Liam’s look of desire.

Instead he was slumped against the counter, looking dejected and tired again with his back turned to Fix.

Fix considered going to put his clothes on, but he didn’t want to leave Liam alone in that state so he walked over and stood close behind him. He placed his hands gently on Liam’s waist, hoping he was a comforting presence. Liam swayed for a moment before sinking back, resting against Fix’s naked chest, his shirt soaking in all the stray moisture.

Fix ignored the way it made him feel. Ignored the way Liam’s hair was tickling the skin around his nipples and driving him crazy. “Honey…”

“How is this happening?” Liam asked. “How do they keep cursing me? Why are they doing it? I didn’t do anything wrong, Fix.”

Fix’s heart ached at the words, the urge to make things better for Liam gnawing at his insides.

“I don’t know,” he said softly, leaning forward to speak into Liam’s ear, “but you’re not to blame. Nothing you did would have earned you this.”

“It feels like punishment,” Liam said, leaning farther back and letting Fix hold his entire weight. He felt featherlight against Fix. “I’m so tired.”

“I’ll fix this,” Fix said, squeezing him tighter.

Liam craned his neck to look up into his eyes.

“Your name is starting to make sense,” Liam finally said with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes but was a much more welcome sight than the forlorn, crestfallen expression he’d had before.

“I chose it for a reason.” Fix winked and Liam turned in his arms, not moving away. They were chest to chest and Fix could feel Liam’s breath tickling the hair on his pecs.

Liam’s eyes were oddly intent when he asked, “You chose your own name?”

“Once you come of age and are ready to leave Nexus for work, you pick your name. Nexus gives suggestions, but you don’t have to accept any of them.”

“What do they call you before that?”

“We’re called trainees and we have numbers assigned to us.” Fix knew how it sounded. Impersonal. Cold.

“I like Fix,” Liam said, lifting his hands as if to place them on Fix’s chest before he realized Fix was still half naked and just let them awkwardly hover above his skin.