Page 36 of Lovesick Gods (Lovesick #1)

“Okay, Sparky,” Cho whispered. “Get us on the bed.”

All it took was one deep breath and the call of Danny’s lightning.

“Should I start with my tongue ?” Cho asked when they were situated upstairs, but Danny shook his head. He was too keyed up for more teasing.

It almost bothered him that Cho kept his shirt on after gathering the supplies and removing the rest of their clothes.

Probably the scars , Danny thought, but now wasn’t the time to wonder about that.

He knew where most of them had come from.

And besides, Danny didn’t care about scars.

Why would he, even if all his own had vanished when he gained his healing?

He tried to say that without saying it, ran his hands up beneath Cho’s shirt from navel to collarbone, feeling the scar tissue as he went. The only places free of scars were the ones that would have been more visible to curious eyes when he was a kid, like his arms.

Smiling at Danny more tenderly, Cho still pressed forward without removing his shirt and gave Danny just what he’d been asking for.

A particularly deep thrust had Danny’s head digging back into the mattress. “ Cho …”

“ Mal ,” he corrected fondly.

“Mal…sorry,” Danny laughed, because he couldn’t help the habit. Focusing on the stunning, flushed man above him, he said it again, “Mal…”

Cho felt as good inside of him as the other way around.

Little by little their pace picked up, and Danny begged for every change in force and tempo.

When they were close, he knew he and Cho were nearly there together, because he could feel the edge approaching and also hear it in the catch to Cho’s breaths.

With Danny moaning praises in his ear, Cho sounded halfway mad along with him. “Use your powers, Sparky. Now .”

“Where…?”

“Everywhere.”

Danny’s body naturally wanted to spark in the throes of his pleasure, so he let it, let himself pulse with lightning over every inch of skin. Cho moaned, and being already so close to the edge, he came in seconds. Danny came soon after without even being touched.

Neither spoke as they breathed heavily in the aftermath. Neither could form coherent words for the first several minutes. Danny only loosely registered when they pulled apart and Cho tossed the condom over the side of the bed into the trash, leaving him feeling empty again but so, so content.

They lay there, side by side, and Danny stared up at the ceiling, wishing, if only for a moment, that he could stay like this forever and never have to be Zeus or Detective Grant again.

?

Mal should cut his losses. Now. Let it just be sex. Enjoy the remarkable orgasms this man gave him like no one else ever had and leave it at that. But he was compelled to know everything he could about his…adversary.

“Quid pro quo, Sparky,” Mal said to the ceiling, not even turning his head.

“Yeah? Shoot.”

“What’s the real reason you ditched work to see me?”

Silence filled the air like it was charged with static. If this was just sex, Mal shouldn’t care, but he had to know why Danny sought him out like someone drowning in the middle of the ocean.

“I…I just…” Danny started to speak but faded out. When Mal glanced at him, he had an arm draped over his eyes as if to hide. “I told you it’s been stressful lately.”

“This is more than stress.” Mal should know. He was intimately familiar with being broken.

“What do you care?” Danny peeked at him from beneath his arm. “You’re just looking for angles, right? Your next opportunity to get the upper hand?”

Mal stared. He wasn’t used to Danny being this…cold. “Thought I just had the upper hand. You complaining about how that turned out?”

“No complaints,” Danny chuckled humorlessly, dropping his arm but returning his attention to the ceiling.

“Danny…”

“I don’t want to talk about it. I came here so I wouldn’t have to talk about it.” Sharp, punched words. This was Danny at his most honest, open and angry. Mal didn’t know what to do with that information.

“Then don’t,” he said, remaining neutral when Danny looked at him again. “I told you. You don’t owe me anything.”

The frown in Danny’s brow smoothed out with a wave of emotion. Moisture filled his eyes like a switch had been flipped, like all he’d been waiting for, for days, weeks , was to hear someone finally say those words to him.

“I can’t breathe ,” he said, and Mal knew he didn’t mean literally, but he understood.

He knew exactly how Danny felt as the kid’s eyes went distant and he rushed on, “Sometimes I feel so angry , I want to destroy everything around me. Sometimes I don’t feel anything.

I’m just numb. And my powers can’t fix what’s wrong with me, not this time.

You’re the only thing…” His eyes centered on Mal’s face, and all at once he seemed to realize how much he was saying and who he was saying it to.

Tears trickled down his cheeks.

“It doesn’t matter. I’m fine,” he said like a challenge, turning back to the ceiling with a grimace, though whether he was trying to convince Mal or himself was unclear.

Either way Mal knew it wasn’t the truth. And he shouldn’t care. Danny was right; he shouldn’t care. But he did. “Then why are you crying?”

Danny whirled on Mal with a snarl and he tensed to be hit— no .

They weren’t fighting. They weren’t in costume.

Mal had convinced himself he was sleeping with his nemesis, but that wasn’t whose eyes met his.

He didn’t have to throw his guards up when it was Danny looking back at him instead of Zeus.

And he realized with a start that it was Danny he wanted.

So he stood his ground and waited. Danny’s face was a twisted, angry sneer, but he didn’t reach for Mal, didn’t do anything but gasp for breath and look at him like he wanted to scream until his seams unraveled and all that fury drained away.

It did drain, eventually. Tears still on his face, Danny’s expression crumbled into one of anguish instead. He looked ready to lightning jump away, to escape this unexpected confrontation he’d brought upon himself.

Rolling onto his side to better face Danny, Mal kept his movements as measured and calculated as he had with the young robber in Rashid’s shop. He didn’t want to spook Danny; he didn’t want him to leave. Cupping Danny’s face in his palm, he pulled him closer for a kiss. Slow. Sweet.

What the hell was Mal doing? He should be working out angles, like Danny had said, looking for his opening, for a chance to turn this insanity to his advantage.

And when it came to heists and keeping out of jail, he’d do that, he’d do whatever he had to…

but to Zeus, not to Danny. Maybe that was the compromise that fixed this.

It didn’t have to be personal, it should never be personal.

Zeus was business, but Danny…Danny was something else and Mal was already in too deep.

A moment of just their lips pressed together passed before Danny started to kiss him back, like he’d been too stunned to move. When they parted, he whispered, “You make it easier…” but then his eyes widened and he pulled back like he’d surprised himself with his honesty.

Mal couldn’t betray his indecision, his doubt that what they were doing was the right course. Disaster loomed over them every step of the way, but he couldn’t call it quits yet either, couldn’t let go of something that made him feel like only a perfect heist ever had.

So he tried to portray that he had everything under control, summoning the confidence that had kindled Danny’s passion in the convenience store.

He kissed Danny again and felt the other man’s hesitation.

There was more Danny hadn’t told him, but it didn’t matter.

Right now all Mal cared about was this moment, high on endorphins, sweaty and dirty and spent.

The heist didn’t matter. Dunkirk didn’t matter. Only Danny.

“Mal…”

Danny’s stomach grumbled before he could finish what he’d meant to say, and they laughed out of their embrace. The ease in which the sound left Danny made Mal certain that this time it was real.

“It’s a little early for dinner,” Mal said, smoothing his thumb along Danny’s cheekbone, “but I’m guessing you could use a snack.”

Danny chuckled with a flush of embarrassment, and there —there was the Danny Grant that Mal was used to. He still existed beneath the darkness. Mal could coax him out again.

“Bulgogi?” Danny’s eyes brightened.

His one-track mind never failed to amuse Mal. And after all, the leftovers had gone a little too long without being refrigerated or reheated, currently resting in a heap on Mal’s living room floor, so someone better eat them. “You can have some,” he said.

Grinning boyish and wide, Danny rolled out of bed with a triumphant flourish. He soon stood before Mal clean and dressed, with the tears wiped from his face. But Mal saw one, a stubborn drop of moisture in the corner of Danny’s eye that slipped free and froze on his cheek.

Sitting up, Mal gestured Danny closer. He expected a kiss, so Mal gave him one, but he also brushed his thumb over that stray tear. Danny’s smile faltered in the wake of the affection, his sadness showing through again, so potent and deep in the moments he didn’t try to hide it.

“I suppose asking you to wait for me is like slow torture,” Mal said.

Danny rolled his eyes with a quirk to his lips. “Pretty sure we already accomplished that kink for one day.”

“Go on.” Mal gestured toward the stairs.

Lightning jumping away in his haste, Danny’s departure was followed by sounds of him in the kitchen, putting the bags of unnecessary gifts away and shoving the bulgogi into the microwave.

Meanwhile, Mal tore his shirt over his head and tossed it into the hamper. He knew it was silly to have kept it on; Danny had already seen, he knew. Next time Mal would try to break the habit.

His shorts and slacks were down by his desk, calling for a whole new outfit.

He grabbed a fresh pair of pants and…huh.

He’d forgotten about that shirt, buried in the back of his closet, one Lucy had bought him to ‘brighten up’ his often dark wardrobe.

It was blue, but not navy like he was accustomed to.

Instead it was a jewel-toned teal—cerulean.

Mal put it on, leaving it untucked and the first couple buttons undone. Danny enjoyed his casual side. He could polish up his look after Danny left.

Pausing to pick up his pants and underwear when he reached the foot of the stairs, Mal found that they had already been folded and set on his desk chair. Danny had hung up their coats as well, and their shoes were lined up in front of the door. Mal’s mouth twitched with a fond smile.

Crossing to where Danny had claimed his usual— usual —seat at the kitchen island, he watched Danny take a glutinous bite from a healthy helping of bulgogi with an extra fork set aside for him.

Danny hummed and licked his lips. “Want some?”

Dom and Lucy were never going to let Mal live this down…

He sat on the stool next to Danny, picked up the extra fork, and speared a piece of meat. It was as delicious as Mrs. Pak’s cooking always was.

Catching Danny eyeing the bright teal shirt appreciatively, Mal decided to take this encounter as another win, despite the nagging feeling that this whole domestic scene was dragging him far too willingly into the unknown.

After all, he had finally gotten to bend Zeus in half.

?

Danny ate ravenously. Cho never seemed to mind that he was a bottomless pit and needed food at all hours. But as delicious as the bulgogi was, it settled heavily in Danny’s stomach.

He hadn’t meant to confess all that. To get flustered and teary-eyed in front of Cho .

Yet the way he reacted upstairs, that’s what Danny wanted, wasn’t it?

That was how he got Cho to fall for him so he could break his heart, make him pay, make someone pay for everything Danny had gone through. Because Cho deserved it.

Didn’t he?

“Danny?”

Cho’s voice made Danny realize he’d been staring at his next bite of food for almost a minute. He set it down. “I think I’ve had enough,” he said, pulling on a smile that he doubted Cho bought anymore, if the man ever had.

Cho nodded with an indulgent expression.

He wouldn’t push. He never pushed Danny.

But he’d fight him and shoot ice at him and show his true colors again soon enough.

Danny couldn’t forget that. Once Cho donned his Prometheus gear, everything would return to normal and Danny would remember why Cho was the one he’d targeted.

Because he’d betrayed Danny. And hurt him. Hurt others. He was a criminal. A liar. A villain .

“I’ll walk you out,” Cho said and followed Danny to the door.

He kissed Danny goodbye, smirked at him as Danny backed out across the threshold, and promised they’d see each other again real soon.

Cho was falling for Danny just like he wanted, and Danny was going to enjoy breaking his heart.

He had to.