Page 11

I watched the candle flame dance on Xavier's nightstand, mesmerized by how the fire cast moving shadows across the dark walls of his bedroom. The house was quiet around us, everyone else still at work or handling the investigation at the compound. For the past hour, Xavier had been pacing the small confines of his room, agitation rolling off him in waves as our search for Phoenix hit another dead end.

"They used my element against me." Xavier's voice was razor-sharp, cracking through the silent room like a whip. His hands raked through his blue-dyed hair, leaving chaotic spikes in their wake. The tightly coiled violence in his movements made my breath catch, my body responding to his fury in ways I was still learning to accept. "Fire is mine. It's always been mine. And they dared to use it to try to kill what belongs to me."

I made a soft sound, shifting in my seat at his desk as familiar heat pooled low in my belly. The possessiveness in his words, the way he claimed fire as his element and me as his possession, should have offended me. Instead, it made my cock twitch in my jeans. Two years of friendship had morphed into something darker, something hungrier in the week since the fire, and I was finally letting myself acknowledge how Xavier's intensity had always affected me.

"You know what really pisses me off?" His hands clenched into fists, knuckles white with barely contained rage. "How fucking elegant it was. Like they were showing off. Making sure we knew exactly how good they were at destroying everything."

"The code was pretty sophisticated," I agreed, absently dipping my finger in the pooled wax around the candle. The brief heat followed by cooling pressure helped ground me, gave me something to focus on besides how devastatingly attractive Xavier looked with fury sharpening his features. I'd done this since childhood, building layers of wax until they formed a little cap I could peel away. A nervous habit my abuela used to scold me for

"Pretty sophisticated?" His laugh held no warmth. "Leo, they hijacked your entire security system. Your system. The one even I can barely crack when we're testing it. And they made it look easy."

I nodded, watching another drop of wax cool on my skin and trying very hard not to think about how Xavier's anger roughened his voice. How his possessiveness over my security system sent shivers down my spine in ways my priest would definitely not approve of.

"And now they're out there." Xavier's voice dropped to something dangerous that coiled in my belly like smoke. "Watching. Planning. Probably laughing about how they got through your security." His fist slammed against the desk beside me, rattling our laptops. The sound jolted through me like electricity. "Fuck. I hate not knowing who to hunt."

He stopped suddenly, his gaze fixing on my hands. On the way I was absently playing with the candle wax, letting it drip and cool on my skin. Something shifted in his expression, the cold rage giving way to a different kind of heat.

"Are you doing this on purpose?" His voice held a mix of amusement and hunger. "Trying to be a tease, Leo?"

I looked up at him through my lashes, something bold and unfamiliar moving through me. Instead of answering, I deliberately tipped the candle, letting a small drop of wax fall onto my forearm.

"Fuck," I hissed, the burn sharper than I expected.

Xavier's eyes darkened instantly, his hand shooting out to grab my wrist. "Not like that," he growled, taking the candle from my other hand. "Like this."

He bent over my arm, his eyes never leaving mine as his tongue swept across my skin in a slow, deliberate lick that made my stomach drop. The wetness cooled my skin, and then he carefully tipped the candle, letting a drop of wax fall exactly where his tongue had been.

The sensation was entirely different, a pleasant sizzle rather than a sharp burn, the heat diffused by the wetness he'd left behind. The sound that escaped me wasn't pain, but something closer to pleasure.

"There," Xavier murmured, satisfaction heavy in his voice. "That's how you play with fire."

I swallowed hard, my heart hammering against my ribs. "Teach me more."

“Want to know what I’m imagining right now?” Xavier asked. "I'm imagining you naked, spread out on this bed. Wax dripping onto your chest, your stomach, maybe even that pretty cock of yours. Watching you twist and writhe while I mark you all over. Making you remember who you belong to with every fucking drop."

My cock was fully hard now, straining painfully against my zipper, a wet spot forming where the head pressed against my boxers. I whimpered and squirmed in the chair. I'd never thought about wax like that before, never imagined my nervous habit could become something so filthy. But now I couldn't stop picturing it.

"Won't that hurt?" I asked, my voice strangely small.

Not that it mattered. I'd let Xavier hurt me however he wanted. I'd let him cut pieces off of me if he want. It was completely fucked up, how devoted to Xavier I was, even knowing what he was capable of.

Xavier stepped in closer, his presence curling around me like smoke. "Pain's relative. And completely up to me." His fingers traced over my wrist, studying the cooled wax on my skin. "Besides, you trust me to hurt you exactly how you need, don't you? To find that perfect edge where agony becomes ecstasy."

The question hit deep, like he'd reached right inside me and grabbed hold of something I barely understood myself. Something that had been building since that first night in his bed—since I admitted, out loud, how completely I was his.

"Yeah," I murmured, voice barely there.

His lips curled. "Good boy." The praise sent a rush of heat straight to my cock, making it jerk against my jeans. "You're so fucking beautiful when you're desperate for me... and you'll be even more beautiful when I'm done with you."

Before reaching for the candle, Xavier cupped my face in his hands, his touch surprisingly gentle. His thumbs traced over my cheekbones, eyes studying mine with an intensity that had nothing to do with dominance or control.

"You're goddamn perfect, you know that?" he said quietly, his voice lacking its usual edge. "Not just when you're falling apart under me. Just... you. Looking at me like I'm something worth believing in instead of the monster everyone else sees."

The words hit me harder than any command could have. This wasn't Xavier the predator speaking. This was just Xavier, showing me something raw and bleeding beneath all the carefully constructed layers. In the days since the fire, these glimpses of vulnerability had become more frequent, as if our physical intimacy was gradually dismantling walls he'd built long before I knew him.

"Off," he said, tugging at my jeans.

My hands went to my belt before my brain could catch up. Two years of friendship, and all it took was that tone in his voice to turn me into an eager, dripping mess. A voice in my head that sounded suspiciously like my father whispered that I should be ashamed, that I was damned for wanting this, but I pushed it away. Xavier saw me—really saw me—in ways no one else ever had.

"Jesus, are you hard already?" His eyes went dark as I wiggled out of my jeans, my erection obvious and straining.

I hesitated with my jeans down around my knees. "Should... should I not be?"

"Are you kidding?" Xavier's laugh was dark honey. "I fucking love how responsive you are. How that pretty cock gets hard just from me telling you what to do." His fingers hooked on my boxers. "These too."

I pushed them down with shaking hands, my face burning as my cock sprang free, the head flushed an angry red and already leaking pre-cum. The soft fabric of his hoodie fell to mid-thigh, and something about wearing nothing but his clothes made everything feel more intense, more depraved. I almost didn’t want to take it off, but Xavier insisted.

“Everything off. Fire play is best done naked for safety.”

I raised my arms, letting him pull the hoodie over my head. The cool air hit my bare chest, making my nipples harden instantly. The intimacy of being completely naked when Xavier was still fully dressed made my cock twitch against my stomach.

I moved to the bed, settling against his black sheets, the contrast of the dark fabric against my skin making me feel more exposed.

Xavier's fingers traced my throat, his touch possessive yet strangely hesitant. "I've never wanted to be careful with anyone before. Never cared if I broke my toys."

"But you worry about me?" I asked, searching his face.

"With you..." His expression shifted, unguarded in a way I rarely saw. "With you, I want to fucking break you open and keep you safe at the same time. I want to hear you scream and then hold you while you shake apart. It's... confusing as hell."

The conflict in his eyes made my breath catch. "I trust you," I said simply, the words carrying more weight than any elaborate reassurance could have.

His expression settled, resolve replacing uncertainty. "Then let me show you how beautiful pain can be when it's given with care. How suffering becomes worship when it's done right."

His hands cupped my face and then he was kissing me, all teeth and tongue and possessive hunger. I melted into it, letting him lick into my mouth like he owned it. Like he owned all of me. His hands skimmed down my sides, steadying me, grounding me, until I was putty in his hands, my cock leaking steadily against my stomach.

"Fuck, look at you," he murmured, his voice rough as he surveyed my naked body. "All spread out on my bed like a goddamn sacrifice."

His hands spread possessively across my stomach, thumbs pressing into the soft flesh in a way that made me gasp. "So fucking perfect," he murmured, bending to press biting kisses against my skin. "Love how soft you are here. How you let me mark you. How you'll carry the bruises for days, reminding you who you belong to."

I tried to stay still, to be good, but every touch sent sparks through my body straight to my aching cock. Xavier took his time, mapping every inch with lips and teeth, marking his territory. When he bit down hard on the curve of my belly, I couldn't help the way my hips jerked up, a desperate moan escaping my throat.

"Sorry," I gasped, trying to force myself still. "I'll be good, I promise."

"You're always good for me." His voice vibrated against my skin as he licked the mark he'd just made. "Even when you're being desperate and needy. Especially then. Nothing's more beautiful than watching you fall apart for me."

He went back to exploring, alternating between gentle kisses and sharp bites that made me whimper. My hands clutched at the sheets, trying to ground myself as he systematically destroyed every barrier I'd built against this kind of raw, animal need.

"Xavier, please..." I couldn't stop squirming now, couldn't help seeking friction against him. "I need—I need you to touch me. Please, I'm so fucking hard it hurts."

My words echoed in the quiet bedroom and I clapped a hand over my mouth, mortified at the filth spilling from me. My abuela would have washed my mouth out with soap just for thinking about such things.

Xavier's laugh was dark and pleased against my skin. "Listen to that filthy mouth. Where's my good Catholic boy now?"

"This is your fault," I gasped as he bit down again, hard enough to bruise. "You're turning me into some kind of..." My words cut off in a desperate moan as his hand finally, finally brushed against my aching cock, just the lightest touch making my hips buck wildly.

“Look at you. Such a messy boy.” He slid his thumb over the leaking head of my cock and I had to bite my lip to keep from moaning so loud the neighbors would hear. He brought his thumb to my lips, wet with my pre-cum. "Clean it up. Don't want to make a mess, do we? Not yet."

The order sent heat straight through me. I opened my mouth without hesitation, sucking my own taste from his skin, tongue working between his fingers to get every drop.

Xavier's eyes went dark as he watched me, pupils blown wide with arousal. “Some kind of what?”

“Huh?” I blinked at him, confused.

“Finish what you were going to say earlier. You said I was turning you into some kind of…?”

Sinner , my brain provided, but that wasn’t the word that came out. “Like I’m some kind of slut.”

He grinned. "Is that what you're afraid of becoming? My pretty little slut, writhing on my bed and begging for more like the desperate thing you are?"

Heat flooded my face, but my cock jerked eagerly against my stomach, another pulse of pre-cum landing on my skin. I'd never been called that before. Never thought I'd like it. But something about the way Xavier said it, like it was precious and filthy all at once, made me want to be exactly that for him.

His growl vibrated through me as his hands tightened on my hips, fingers digging in hard enough to bruise. "So eager to be ruined."

"I'm going to start here," he murmured, pressing kisses to my stomach. "Where you're soft. My favorite part of you."

The first drop of wax landed on my stomach, well above my navel where my skin stretched taut over my ribs. The sensation was sharp but manageable, the pain quickly transforming into a pleasant tightness as the wax cooled and contracted against my skin. Xavier watched my face intently, gauging my reaction.

"More?" he asked, his voice deceptively gentle.

"Yes," I breathed. "Please."

He dripped another drop beside the first, then another, creating a line across my abs. Each drop sent a small shock through my system, but nothing I couldn't handle. The wax hardened quickly, creating a strange, pleasant pressure against my skin.

"Good?" Xavier checked, his free hand stroking my thigh in a surprisingly gentle gesture.

"Good," I confirmed, finding my voice stronger than expected. "It's... nice. Not too intense."

His lips curved into a dangerous smile. "Just wait. We're only getting started."

"Can we try something?" My voice was soft but steady, surprising us both.

Xavier's eyebrow rose, curiosity rather than displeasure in his expression. "What did you have in mind?"

"I want to feel it..." I swallowed hard, finding courage I didn't know I had. "Here." I touched my chest, just below my collarbone, then let my fingers drift lower, over my nipple. "And here." The request came out barely above a whisper, but I held his gaze instead of looking away.

A slow, predatory smile spread across Xavier's face. "Look at you, telling me what you want. I fucking love when you show me what you need. Doesn't change who's in charge, but it gives me more ways to break you."

The approval in his voice made me relax slightly.

Xavier reached for the candle, holding it where I could see the flame dance. "Ready to learn something new about yourself? About just how much pain you can take for me?"

I nodded, unable to look away from how the fire reflected in his eyes, turning them molten. "I trust you."

"I know you do." His free hand pressed possessively against my belly, sliding up to circle one nipple, pinching it hard enough to make me gasp. "That's why you're going to lie perfectly still and let me decorate you. Make you into the most beautiful fucking canvas. Can you do that for me?"

The first drop of wax hit just below my collarbone where I'd asked, and I flinched, unprepared for how much it burned. A strangled sound escaped me, caught between pain and something darker, something hungry. The wax cooled quickly, hardening into a small white circle that marked me as Xavier's canvas.

"You okay?" Xavier's voice was steady, grounding.

"Yes," I breathed, surprised by how much I meant it. "Please, more."

"Talk to me," Xavier demanded, studying my reactions as another drop of wax cooled on my skin. "Tell me how it feels. Tell me exactly what I'm doing to you."

Words felt impossible, thoughts fragmenting under the sensations flooding my system. But Xavier was waiting, patient yet expectant, his eyes devouring every twitch and gasp.

"It's like... burning and relief at the same time," I managed, each word an effort. "Like electricity but... god, it goes deeper. Straight to my cock. Makes me want to beg."

Xavier's eyes darkened with something that wasn't just arousal—it was understanding. "You feel it everywhere, don't you? Not just where the wax hits. It's like your whole nervous system lights up."

I nodded, surprised he could read me so accurately, could translate the incoherent mess of sensation into something that made sense.

"I thought so." His voice held savage satisfaction. "You're the type who feels with your whole body, your whole mind. Who experiences pain as more than just physical." His fingers traced where the wax had hardened. "That's why you respond so beautifully to pain. It's not just physical for you. It's fucking spiritual. You were made for this."

Hearing him articulate something I hadn't even understood about myself made me feel seen in ways I never had before. He wasn't just learning about my body. He was learning the very essence of how I experienced the world.

His gaze traveled down to my chest, to the dark hair covering my pecs. "This will hurt more," he warned, fingers threading through the curls. "The wax will stick to the hair when it cools. Pull when I remove it."

I felt my face flush, but there was no shame in it now, not with Xavier. "I know," I admitted, voice barely above a whisper. "I, um... I sometimes pull my own chest hair. When I touch myself. It feels good, the sting of it."

Xavier went still for a moment, his eyes darkening to something dangerous and hungry. "Fuck, Leo," he breathed, like I'd given him something precious. "You're full of surprises."

The next drop landed directly on my nipple, the heat intensified by the contact with the sensitive flesh. A choked cry escaped my throat as my back arched off the bed, cock jerking violently against my stomach. The wax cooled quickly, hardening around my nipple and the surrounding hair, creating a delicious tension I couldn't escape. Each new drop felt like a brand, like Xavier marking his territory in white circles across my flesh, claiming parts of me no one else had ever touched.

As another drop of wax hit my skin, I realized something was missing. The voice in my head telling me this was wrong and sinful was quiet. Instead, there was just sensation. Just Xavier. Just us, creating something beautiful and violent together.

"You look different," Xavier observed, studying my face as he held the candle higher. "More... here."

"I am," I said, surprised by the realization. "I'm not—" I paused, searching for words. "I'm not fighting myself anymore. Not hearing my father's voice or my abuela's prayers or what some fucking priest would say."

Xavier's eyes darkened with satisfied possession. "Good. You don't need their fucking permission to enjoy yourself." His hand spread possessively over the cooling wax. "This is ours. No one else gets a say in it. Just you and me and what I decide to do to this perfect body."

The simplicity of his statement settled something inside me that had been restless for years. My desires weren't wrong. They were just there, just another part of me that belonged entirely to him.

Xavier studied his work with dark satisfaction, fingers hovering just above my skin where patterns of hardened wax decorated my chest and stomach.

"So fucking perfect." Xavier traced the edge of a cooling wax circle, making me shiver. "Look how your body begs for more, even when you try to stay still. Look how that pretty cock leaks just from me hurting you."

He was right. I couldn't control the way my stomach muscles jumped at each new drop, couldn't stop my hips from shifting restlessly, seeking friction that wasn't there. The pain bloomed sharp and bright before melting into warmth that spread through my whole body like liquid fire. Each drop was a separate universe of sensation, unmistakably Xavier's mark on my skin.

"Hurts," I whispered, but it wasn't a complaint. More like a revelation.

"Want me to stop?"

"No!" The word burst out too quickly, too desperately. "Please don't stop. I... I fucking love it. Love how it burns. How it feels like you're marking me.”

His eyes flickered toward my cock, which lay hard and leaking against my stomach. "Where else do you want me to mark you, Leo?"

I swallowed hard, gathering courage from the way he'd responded to my earlier confession. "My... my cock," I whispered, the words feeling filthy and perfect on my tongue. "But only if you—if you lick it first. Like you did with my arm."

Xavier hesitated a moment, then moved lower, his lips hovering just above my cock. "You asked for this," he reminded me, his breath hot against the sensitive skin. "No backing out now."

"Please," I whispered, beyond shame or hesitation.

Without warning, his tongue swept along the underside of my cock in one long, slow lick that had me arching off the bed. The wet heat of his mouth was unlike anything I'd ever felt before, a pleasure so intense it bordered on pain. He took just the head between his lips, sucking lightly before pulling away, leaving the skin wet and glistening.

"Hold still," he commanded. "This will be... intense."

The first drop of wax landed exactly where his tongue had been, the sizzle of heat against cooling wetness making me cry out. The sensation was electric, a perfect blend of pleasure and pain that set every nerve ending alight. Another drop followed, and another, dotting a line up the underside of my shaft.

"Xavier," I gasped, barely recognizing my own voice. "Fuck, I—"

"How does it feel?" he demanded, his own voice rough with arousal. "Tell me exactly what I'm doing to you."

"It's... everything," I managed, words fragmenting as my body shook with overwhelming sensation. "Burns but feels so good, like every nerve is firing at once, like I'm going to—oh god—"

Xavier's voice was low, a hint of amazement in it. "Are you going to come? That's fucking hot."

The words hung in the air between us, a confession I hadn't expected. Xavier admitting to being turned on by what we were doing together. It was something neither of us had anticipated when we'd started this exploration, a shift in how he understood his own sexuality.

"Fuck. I need…" He palmed himself through his jeans and met my eyes. "I want to come on you. I want to mark you with my cum. Cover you in it like I've covered you in wax."

"God, yes," I gasped, the words tumbling out before I could think. "Please, Xavier. I want that. I want to wear you on my skin like I'm wearing your wax."

Xavier's eyes darkened, surprise quickly giving way to hunger. Without breaking eye contact, he unbuttoned his jeans and pushed them down along with his boxers, freeing his cock. He was fully hard, the head flushed dark with arousal, pre-cum beading at the tip. The sight of him like this—aroused by me, by what we were doing together—sent another wave of heat through my body.

"You're my perfect fucking Leo," he growled, wrapping his hand around his length. "God, I've never wanted... Never wanted like this. Ever." His voice cracked slightly, frustration and desire warring in his expression. "I fucking want you, Leo. I don't even understand it, but I do."

“Please, Xavier, I need—I need to—"

"Then don’t hold back,” he panted, working his cock. “Come with me, Sunshine.”

My hand moved instinctively, wrapping around my aching cock as I watched Xavier touch himself. Our eyes locked as we stroked ourselves, my movements growing frantic as I chased my release. Xavier's rhythm matched mine, his breathing becoming ragged, pupils blown wide with desire. The sight of him touching himself while watching me, because of me, pushed me closer to the edge.

"Fuck," I gasped, feeling the pressure building, unstoppable now. "Xavier, I'm gonna—"

"Yes," he grunted, his voice rough and primal. "Fuck, Leo. That's so fucking hot."

My back arched off the bed as I came, a strangled cry tearing from my throat. My release shot across my stomach and chest in thick ropes, some landing on the cooled wax patterns Xavier had created. The pleasure was overwhelming, radiating from my core outward in waves that left me trembling and incoherent.

Xavier's eyes never left mine as his movements grew erratic, his control slipping. He made a deep, guttural sound as he came, his release landing hot and wet across my stomach and chest, mixing with my own and the patterns of wax he'd left on my skin.

"Fuck," he groaned, his chest heaving as he caught his breath. "Leo..."

Words seemed to fail him as he stared down at me, at the evidence of our mutual pleasure marking my body. I'd never seen him at a loss for words before, his usual quick wit deserting him as he processed what had just happened between us.

But then he suddenly tensed, his gaze fixed on the mess covering my stomach and chest. The slight grimace that crossed his face reminded me of how uncomfortable he was with bodily fluids. A lot had changed, but that hadn’t.

"Hold on," I said softly, reaching for the box of tissues on his nightstand. I quickly cleaned myself first, then grabbed fresh tissues and gently cleaned his hand as well. His eyes followed my movements, surprise evident in his expression.

"Thank you," he said quietly, a vulnerability in his voice I rarely heard. He leaned down and pressed his forehead against mine, a gesture more intimate than any kiss.

"I didn't know it could be like this," I admitted, feeling unexpectedly brave in the aftermath. "That pain could feel so fucking good. That it could feel like... worship, almost."

"I didn't either," he said, and I realized he wasn't talking about the pain. He was talking about us—about how I affected him. "You make me want things I never thought I could have, Leo. Things I never thought I deserved."

"Like what?"

His fingers traced my jaw, thoughtful and assessing. "Like... connection. Something beyond control and submission. Something I don't have words for yet."

The raw honesty in his voice made something in my chest expand. This wasn't Xavier the vigilante or Xavier the dominant. This was just Xavier, trying to navigate unfamiliar emotional territory without his usual certainty.

He moved to lie beside me, pulling me gently against him until my head rested on his shoulder. His arm wrapped around me, warm and secure as his fingers traced lazy patterns on my skin. I could feel his heartbeat, steady and strong beneath my cheek.

"You should get some sleep," he murmured, but made no move to leave, his body curving protectively around mine.

The closeness made words easier somehow, as if the physical connection created a private world where confessions could exist without judgment. I found myself speaking into the comfortable silence between us.

"Growing up, I always knew I was gay," I said. "But knowing and accepting were different things. My family made it pretty clear what they thought about it."

Xavier's fingers continued their steady rhythm in my hair, grounding me as I spoke. The gentle touch was so at odds with the marks he'd left on my body, yet somehow both felt equally like him—the protector and the predator, two sides of the same man.

"I spent so much time praying not to be. To want what I was supposed to want. Even after I left home, I kept all these walls up. Never letting myself fully want anyone."

"And now?" Xavier's voice was carefully neutral.

"Now I'm starting to think maybe there was never anything wrong with me at all." I looked up at him. "Maybe this is exactly what I was meant to be. Exactly who I was meant to be with. Maybe God made me this way just so I could be yours."

His arm tightened around me. "Leo, look at me."

I turned my head enough to meet his eyes.

His fingers traced my cheek, something almost reverent in his touch. "Do you have any idea what it does to me, hearing you say that? I've never been anyone's answered prayer before."

I took his hand in mine. “You are though. You’re everything I needed. I’m so glad you’re in my life, Xavier. And that we have this. Even if we’re still figuring out how to make it work.”

He pulled me closer, chin settling overtop my head. For a long moment, we just breathed together, the weight of what had happened between us settling like a physical presence in the room.

"Let’s take a nap," he murmured, already halfway there himself.

I smiled and closed my eyes, feeling more claimed and safe than any prayer had ever made me feel.