Page 31

T he new trailer smelled of fresh paint and recently installed carpet, a clean slate without memories or belongings from our previous homes. Smaller than my old place, just one bedroom with an open living area and kitchen, but after two weeks of recovery in makeshift medical quarters, it felt like sanctuary.

I sat at the tiny kitchen table, reviewing the details of the report Xavier had requested from Lucky Losers. The manila folder contained photographs, DNA analysis results, and a detailed autopsy confirming what we already knew: Felix Burns was dead. His body had been recovered from the ruins of the mill, identified through multiple methods, no margin for error. I'd verified the chain of custody myself, tracing the samples from recovery to testing with the precision I'd learned during my Army days.

"Is it enough?" Xavier asked from the doorway, steam rising from the coffee mug in his hand.

I looked up, stopping short at the sight of him. Two weeks after our escape from the burning mill, most of his visible injuries had healed, though he still favored his right leg where the deep laceration had required stitches. He wore just sweatpants, his chest bare except for the familiar tattoos and a few remaining bruises that had faded to yellowed smudges against his pale skin.

"The identification is conclusive," I replied, closing the folder. "DNA match, dental records, even the titanium pins in his left ankle from a previous injury. Felix Burns is absolutely deceased."

Relief mixed with satisfaction in Xavier's eyes. He moved to the kitchen counter, his body flowing through space despite his lingering injuries.

"And the security upgrades?" he asked.

"Complete." I reached for my laptop, pulling up the schematics I'd designed. "Wattson's trailer has the same system now, and I've added redundancies to the compound's perimeter security. Three-factor authentication, independent power sources, and a direct feed to my phone." I gestured to the motion sensors visible through our window. "No one gets within fifty yards of this place without us knowing."

Xavier nodded, a slight upward tilt to his lips. "Good." He brought his coffee to the table, sliding into the chair across from me. His eyes fell to my phone, which had been sitting beside my laptop. "Any response?"

My stomach tightened, knowing exactly what he was asking. "Nothing yet." Three days had passed since my mother had messaged asking when we could schedule a video call. I'd replied with my availability, and the waiting had been excruciating.

"She'll respond," Xavier said with absolute certainty. He reached across the table, his fingers closing around my wrist. "And if she doesn't, that's her loss. You belong to me now. To us. The Laskins."

The warmth of his touch anchored me, pulling me back from the anxiety spiral that had been threatening since I'd seen my mother's message. Three years of silence, and now she wanted to talk. It still didn't feel real.

"How was Yuri doing yesterday?" I asked, deliberately changing the subject.

"Better. They're moving him to outpatient care next week." Xavier's thumb traced circles against my skin, the casual intimacy still new enough to send warmth through my body. "He's already planning the new funeral home. Talking about modern design, eco-friendly options, expanding their services."

I smiled despite the lingering unease about my own family situation. "Sounds like him. Looking forward instead of back."

"Nikita's handling the insurance and permits. Annie's coordinating with the designers." Xavier's voice carried a hint of amusement. "They've got the rebuilding planned down to the day, complete with grand reopening festivities."

"And you're keeping your distance from all the planning," I observed.

He didn't deny it. "They don't need me for that. My focus is elsewhere." His eyes met mine, direct and intense. "Did you eat anything today?"

I glanced at the clock, realizing it was already past noon. "I got caught up in the security work."

Xavier rose and moved to the refrigerator. "You need to eat." It wasn't a suggestion. He pulled out a container of leftover chicken and vegetables, along with a small pot for rice.

I watched him cook, still fascinated by this side of him that so few people ever witnessed. The deadly hunter who had walked into a burning building to eliminate Felix Burns, now making me lunch because I'd forgotten to eat. The contradiction should have been jarring, but somehow it made perfect sense. This was Xavier: capable of anything from killing to caregiving, all with the same focused intensity.

"Just because Felix is gone doesn't mean my work is finished," he said, as if reading my thoughts. "There are other Richard Thackerys out there. Other monsters who think they've escaped justice."

I nodded, understanding completely. "The hunts will continue."

"They have to." Xavier glanced at me, his expression darkening. "But now I have you. Your skills. Your perspective. My personal hacker, making sure I leave no traces."

The thought sent a forbidden thrill through me, that mixture of danger and purpose that had drawn me to Xavier from the beginning. We were vigilantes, judge and executioner, working in tandem. It should have terrified me how right that felt.

My phone buzzed with an incoming message, and my heart leapt to my throat. I glanced down to see my mother's name on the screen.

"It's her," I said, my voice sounding distant to my own ears.

Xavier was beside me instantly, one hand on my shoulder. "Open it."

With trembling fingers, I swiped the notification.

We would love to talk tomorrow at 2pm. Your father will be home from work by then. Is that time still good for you?

The simplicity of the message somehow made it more overwhelming. Not just my mother, but my father, too. Both of them wanting to see me, to speak with me after years of silence. My chest tightened, a tangle of hope and fear coiling within me.

"Tomorrow at two," I managed, looking up at Xavier. "Both of them."

He squeezed my shoulder, his eyes holding mine. "Do you want me there?"

The question caught me off guard. Xavier never asked permission for anything. He simply claimed space in my life as his right, his presence a given rather than a request. Yet here he was, offering me the choice.

"Yes," I said without hesitation. "I want you there."

Something softened in his expression. "Then I'll be there." He returned to the stove, stirring the rice and adding the chicken and vegetables to heat through. "Whether they approve of us or not is irrelevant. But I won't let them hurt you again."

His jaw tightened, a flash of darkness surfacing briefly. "They need to understand you're mine now. That I protect what's mine. That questioning your choices or trying to change you is not an option they have anymore."

The protective edge in his voice sent a complicated warmth through me. I knew better than most what Xavier was capable of, the lengths he would go to in protecting what he considered his. Yet I trusted him completely, certain that his presence would be a support rather than a threat during tomorrow's call.

"Thank you," I said simply, knowing he would understand all the unspoken meaning behind those words.

We ate in comfortable silence, the mundane act of sharing a meal somehow profound after all we'd survived. The Felix Burns report lay closed on the table, a chapter of our lives conclusively ended. Tomorrow's call with my parents represented another chapter potentially reopening.

After lunch, Xavier disappeared into the bathroom, the sound of the shower starting moments later. I cleaned up the kitchen, my mind already spinning through preparations for tomorrow's call. What would I say to them after three years? What would they ask me? How would they react to Xavier?

The bathroom door opened, steam billowing into the hallway as Xavier emerged with just a towel wrapped around his waist. His hair was a shock of vibrant crimson now, the blue completely gone. Droplets of water clung to his shoulders and chest, highlighting the definition of muscle and the stark lines of his tattoos. The health bar over his heart, the WASD keys along his ribs, the triforce near his navel. Familiar landmarks I had memorized with both eyes and fingers.

"You changed your hair," I said, unable to hide my surprise.

He ran his fingers through the wet strands, leaving them standing in damp spikes. "New chapter. New color."

The symbolism wasn't lost on me. Xavier had worn blue in his hair since before I met him, throughout our entire relationship. This change felt significant, a visual marker of transformation.

"I like it," I said, crossing to him and reaching up to touch the vivid red. "Fire suits you."

His eyes darkened at my touch. "Your turn," he said, nodding toward the shower.

I hesitated, suddenly aware of how long I'd been working without a break. "I should finish the security work first."

"The security work can wait. Shower. Now."

I found myself moving without conscious decision, my body responding to his command on a level deeper than thought. This was our dance: his control, my willing surrender. A balance that had felt like coming home from the very first moment.

The shower was still warm, the small bathroom filled with steam and the scent of Xavier's soap. I stepped under the spray, letting the water wash away the tension that had been building since seeing my mother's message. Tomorrow would bring whatever it brought. For now, I had this moment, this space, this safety Xavier had helped create.

When I emerged from the bathroom, a towel wrapped around my waist, I found Xavier waiting in the bedroom. He sat on the edge of our bed, still shirtless, his eyes tracking my movements. The crimson hair changed him somehow, made him look fiercer, more elemental.

"Come here," he said, in a voice that made my cock twitch beneath the towel.

I crossed the small room to stand before him, water still dripping from my hair onto my shoulders. His hands settled on my hips, thumbs pressing against the jutting bones hard enough to mark.

"Turn around," he ordered quietly.

I obeyed, turning my back to him. His fingers traced the fading burns on my shoulders, souvenirs from the mill fire that had nearly claimed us both. His touch was gentle yet intent, mapping each mark with careful attention.

"These are healing well," he observed, his breath warm against my damp skin.

I nodded, unable to find words as his hands continued their exploration, moving down my back to rest at my waist. He tugged slightly, and I understood the unspoken command, sitting carefully on his lap, my back to his chest.

His arms wrapped around me, one hand splayed flat against my stomach while the other moved to my throat, fingers resting against my skin. The dual points of contact anchored me, reminding me that I was here, I was safe, I belonged.

"I've been thinking," Xavier said, his voice a low rumble I could feel through his chest against my back.

"Dangerous," I replied, a smile tugging at my lips despite the intensity of the moment.

His teeth nipped at my shoulder hard enough to leave a mark, a punishment that sent a shiver through me. "Don't be a smartass, Leo. Not when I'm trying to tell you something important."

"Sorry." I relaxed against him, yielding to his hold. "What have you been thinking about?"

His hand moved from my throat to trace the line of my jaw, turning my face until I could see his profile. "About us. About what's changed since I met you."

The raw honesty in his voice made my breath catch. Xavier rarely initiated discussions about feelings or relationship dynamics. He preferred action to words, demonstration to declaration.

"Everything's changed," I said quietly.

"Yes." His fingers continued their gentle exploration of my face, tracing my cheekbone, my temple, the shell of my ear. "I used to think I understood myself completely. Knew exactly who I was, what I wanted, how I functioned."

I waited, giving him space to find the words. This was a gift, Xavier sharing his internal process rather than simply stating conclusions.

"I was wrong." His hand moved lower, trailing down my chest to rest over my heart. "I thought I knew what desire was. A cold, analytical thing. Possession without passion. But with you..." His lips brushed my shoulder, a barely there touch that still sent electricity through my nerves.

He didn't finish the sentence, but he didn't need to. I felt the evidence of his arousal beneath me, pressing hard against my ass through his sweatpants. His other hand drifted lower, fingers tracing the edge of the towel still wrapped around my waist.

I reached for the fold in my towel. "Can I take this off?"

His breath hitched, a rare sound from someone so controlled. "Yes."

I unwrapped the towel slowly, letting it fall open while still sitting on his lap. My cock was already half-hard, responding to his closeness, his control, his heat against my back. The cool air hitting my exposed skin sent a shiver through me.

"Fuck, look at you." His hand slid from my stomach down to wrap around my shaft, grip firm and possessive. "Already getting hard for me."

"Always," I admitted, letting my head fall back against his shoulder. "You just have to look at me and I'm ready to go."

His low chuckle vibrated against my back. "Such a good boy for me." He stroked me slowly. "This is what's changed, Leo. I want to touch you like this. I need to hear those filthy sounds you make when you're desperate. I get off on watching you fall apart in my hands."

The combination of his words and touch sent heat flooding through me. My hips jerked up into his grip without conscious thought, seeking more friction.

"Stay still," he commanded, his other hand returning to my throat. "Let me do the work."

I forced my body to comply, thighs trembling with the effort of not thrusting. "Xavier, fuck."

"That's it," he encouraged, teeth grazing my shoulder. "Say my name again. Tell me how good it feels when I touch your cock."

"So good," I gasped as his thumb circled the sensitive head, spreading the pre-cum that had already begun to leak. "Feels so fucking good, Xavier. I've been thinking about your hands on me all morning."

"Have you now?" He nipped at my earlobe, the brief pain adding another layer to the pleasure building inside me. "Were you sitting there analyzing security footage while thinking about being inside me? About how much you wanted to feel me around your cock while I told you exactly how to fuck me?"

"Yes," I admitted, my voice cracking as his strokes grew faster. "Yes, god, all the time."

His grip on my throat tightened slightly, just enough pressure to make my pulse race faster. "Look at you, so fucking hard for me. So desperate. Such a needy slut for me, aren't you?"

"Only for you," I panted, the words spilling out without a filter. "Only ever you, X."

I could feel him hard as steel against my ass, the thin fabric of his sweatpants doing nothing to hide how turned on he was. That was still new. The knowledge that I could affect him like this, could make him want despite years of claiming not to feel sexual desire, sent another rush of heat through me.

"I want you inside me," Xavier said against my ear, his voice rough with want. "I want to feel your cock stretching me open while I ride you."

My brain short-circuited at his words. "Fuck, yes, please."

"Please what?" he demanded, hand tightening around my cock.

"Please let me fuck you," I gasped, hips jerking up into his grip despite his earlier command to stay still. "Please let me be inside you, Xavier."

"That's better," he said, satisfaction evident in his tone. "But you don't move until I say. You don't come until I allow it. You're going to lie there and let me use your cock however I want. Understood?"

"Yes," I agreed instantly, willing to accept any terms he set. "Yes, anything. Whatever you want."

He released me and stood, shoving his sweatpants down in one fluid motion before reaching for the lube in the bedside drawer. "On your back. Middle of the bed. Go on and get ready."

I moved quickly to obey, positioning myself as directed, my cock now fully hard and leaking against my stomach. Xavier stood over me, naked and perfect, his own erection jutting proudly from his body. The sight of him like this—aroused because of me, wanting me inside him—still felt like a gift I didn't deserve.

Xavier arched an eyebrow expectantly, and I finally remembered I was supposed to be doing something. I scrambled to grab a condom from the bedside table. No matter how many times we did this, my fingers still trembled with excitement every time I had to roll one on.

He slicked his fingers with lube, reaching behind himself to start the preparation. The sight of him fingering himself open while straddling me was almost enough to make me come untouched. His head fell back slightly, eyes half-lidded but never leaving mine as he worked himself open.

"Fuck, you're so hot," I breathed, unable to stop the words. "So fucking beautiful, X."

His lips curved into a smirk. "I know." Another finger, his breath hitching slightly at the stretch. "Are you going to be good for me, Leo? Going to stay still while I ride your cock? Going to let me take my pleasure without trying to control anything?"

"Yes," I promised, hips already aching with the effort of not thrusting up into nothing. "I'll be good. I swear."

"You better," he warned, slicking more lube onto his fingers before wrapping his hand around my cock. The sudden contact after being denied his touch had me gasping. "Because if you move before I tell you to, I'll stop. And you'll have to watch me finish myself off without getting to feel how tight I am around you."

The threat had me whimpering, my cock twitching in his grip. "I'll be still. I promise."

Xavier positioned himself over me, the head of my cock pressing against his entrance. Then, with agonizing slowness, he began to sink down, taking me inside him inch by inch. The tight heat of his body engulfing me had me biting my bottom lip, every muscle in my body tense with the effort of not thrusting up into that perfect heat.

"Fuck," Xavier hissed, his thighs trembling slightly as he took me deeper. "You feel so fucking big like this."

"Xavier," I gasped, his name a prayer on my lips. "Holy shit, you feel amazing."

He paused when I was fully seated inside him, adjusting to the sensation. His hands pressed against my chest, fingernails digging into my skin hard enough to leave crescent-shaped marks. "Don't. Move."

I bit my lip and nodded, fighting against every instinct to thrust up into his body. The effort had me trembling, sweat beading on my forehead despite the cool air.

Slowly, Xavier began to move, lifting himself up before sinking back down in a rhythm that had me groaning in pleasure. His thighs flexed with each movement, his control absolute as he used my body for his pleasure.

"Look at you," he murmured, his voice dark with satisfaction. "So fucking desperate. So eager to please. Would you do anything I asked right now?"

"Yes," I admitted without hesitation. "Anything, X. Fuck, anything you want."

"That's what I like to hear." He shifted slightly, changing the angle so my cock hit that spot inside him that made his breath catch. "Such a good boy for me. Staying so still while I use your cock."

The praise sent another wave of heat through me, my hips jerking up involuntarily before I could stop myself.

Xavier immediately stilled, his eyes narrowing. "What did I say about moving?"

"I'm sorry," I gasped, forcing my body to still. "Please don't stop. I'll be good, I swear."

He considered me for a moment, then resumed his movements, though slower than before. "One more chance. That's all you get."

"Thank you," I breathed, relief washing through me.

His pace increased gradually, his body tightening around mine. He wrapped his hand around his own cock, stroking himself in time with his movements on me.

"Xavier," I pleaded, feeling my orgasm building despite my efforts to hold it back. "I'm getting close. Please."

"Not yet," he commanded, his own voice strained as his movements grew more erratic. "Not until I come. Not until I say."

I gritted my teeth, fighting against the pleasure building inside me. "Please hurry. I can't... I can't last much longer."

"Look at me," Xavier demanded, his hand still working over his cock. "

I forced my eyes open, meeting his eyes. The sight of him above me, his crimson hair wild, his lips parted in pleasure, his hand working himself faster, was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen.

"Now," he finally said, his body clenching around me as he came, hot spurts of cum landing on my chest and stomach. "Come now!”

The permission combined with the tight pulses of his body around my cock sent me over the edge. I came with a shout, my hips finally bucking up into him as my release tore through me. Wave after wave of pleasure crashed over me as I filled him, his name a broken plea on my lips.

Xavier collapsed forward onto my chest, his breath coming in harsh pants against my neck. For a moment, we stayed like that, connected in the most intimate way, both trying to catch our breath.

"Fuck," I finally managed, my hands coming up to rest on his hips. "That was... Jesus, X."

"Mmm," he hummed against my skin, sounding incredibly pleased with himself. "Not bad for a guy who thought he was asexual for twenty-two years."

A surprised laugh escaped me. "Not bad? That was fucking incredible and you know it."

He lifted his head just enough to look at me, a rare, genuine smile on his lips. "I do know it. You're so fucking responsive when I ride you. Always so desperate to please."

I flushed, knowing he was right. No matter how our bodies were positioned, he always maintained complete control. Could make me beg and plead with just a word or a look. The thought sent another jolt of heat through me.

I grabbed the tissues we kept beside the bed and hastily cleaned us up, disposing of the condom before glancing at the clock. It was one in the afternoon. I still had reports to file and work to plan, but I wasn’t quite ready to get back to it. Not yet.

"Can I hold you for a bit?" I asked, stretching back out on the bed.

"Yeah. That's... that would be good."

He shifted slightly, letting me pull his head to my chest. I wrapped my arms around him, one hand tracing patterns along his spine while the other tangled in his hair.

"We should talk about tomorrow," I said finally, once I could think straight again. "What to expect from my parents."

"How do you feel about seeing them again?" Xavier's question cut straight to the heart of what I'd been avoiding.

I took a deep breath, forcing myself to face the tangle of emotions I'd been suppressing. "Scared. Hopeful. Angry. Grateful." I opened my eyes, turning slightly to see his face. "They rejected who I am, Xavier. They chose their religion over their own son. That damage doesn't just disappear because they finally decided to respond to a message."

"No," he agreed, his expression thoughtful. "But people can change. Or at least, they can learn to accept what they can't change."

The observation surprised me, coming from someone as absolute in his judgments as Xavier typically was. "You think they've changed?"

"I think they reached out," he replied. "That's already different from three years ago. But their potential for change doesn't obligate you to anything, Leo. You set the boundaries. You decide what relationship you want with them, if any."

His support warmed me more deeply than any physical touch could have. "And what about us? Do I tell them about you? About what we are to each other?"

Xavier's expression shifted to something territorial and determined. "I'll be sitting right beside you during the call. They'll draw their own conclusions." His hand settled on my hip. "But yes, if they ask directly, you tell them the truth. That you're mine. That we belong to each other. That I'd burn the world to ashes for you." His voice dropped lower, that dangerous edge returning. "Make sure they understand that if they hurt you again, they answer to me. And I'm far less forgiving than you are."

The conviction in his voice steadied me. "And if they can't accept it? Accept us?"

"Then we end the call and move on with our lives." Xavier's answer was immediate and absolute. "Your birth family might be important to you, Leo. I understand that. But they don't get to dictate who you are or who you love."

A giddy sort of warmth filled my chest and I couldn’t help but smile. “I’ll never get tired of hearing you say that you love me.”

His hands framed my face, holding me with that balance of possession and care that defined everything between us. "I love you, Leo. Not just as something that belongs to me, though you do. Not just as someone who submits to me, though you do that beautifully." His thumbs traced my cheekbones, his gaze never leaving mine. "I love you as the person who walked into fire for me. Who sees all of me and stays anyway. Who challenges me and grounds me and makes me question everything I thought I knew about myself."

His grip tightened, fingers pressing into my skin. "You're mine in every way that matters. You'll continue to be mine long after this call with your parents, no matter what they say or think. That's non-negotiable."

The declaration left me breathless. I leaned forward, pressing my forehead against his, our breath mingling in the small space between us. "I love you too," I whispered. "Te amo."

His lips met mine, the kiss both gentle and demanding, a perfect reflection of the man himself. When he pulled back, his eyes held that intensity that still made my heart race.

"Whatever happens tomorrow," he said, "remember that. You are loved. You are wanted. You are exactly where you belong."

I nodded, the certainty of his words washing away the last of my anxiety about tomorrow's call. Whatever my parents had to say, however they reacted to seeing me again, to meeting Xavier, I had this. This certainty. This belonging. This love that had been forged in fire, tested by blood, and emerged stronger than either of us had imagined possible.

I traced the fresh scars on his chest, thinking of the fire that had nearly taken us both. "Speaking of fire..." I hesitated, then pressed on. "Once we're both fully healed, I've been thinking about exploring more of what you mentioned before. The fire play."

Xavier went completely still, his pupils dilating until his eyes were almost black. "Are you sure you want that?"

"Yes," I said without hesitation. "I want to understand every part of you."

A small, almost reverent smile curved his lips. "Shepherd has a special room at The Playground set up for it. Completely safe, monitored. We could start there."

"I'd like that," I said, my pulse quickening at the thought. The way Xavier looked at fire, with that mix of reverence and hunger, made me want to understand it better. To share in that aspect of him, too.

"You continue to surprise me," Xavier said, his voice rough with emotion. "When I think I've mapped all your boundaries, you push past them."

He pulled me against him again, his lips finding mine in a kiss that tasted of promise and hunger. His newly crimson hair caught the light as he moved, a living flame crowning the man who had claimed my heart and soul.

"Mine," he whispered against my lips, the word both claim and vow.

And in that moment, with his hands marking my skin and his scent surrounding me, I surrendered completely to the beautiful darkness we'd built together. To the vigilante justice we'd deliver and the fire we'd both control and release. To the connection that defied all his previous certainties and all my former fears.

"Yours," I agreed, as his hands guided me beneath him on the bed. "In fire and in darkness. Always."

His eyes gleamed with that dangerous light I'd come to crave. "When we're both healed," he murmured against my skin, "I'll show you how to hunt properly. How to track the monsters that think they've escaped justice." His teeth grazed my throat, just enough pressure to remind me who was in control. "Your code, my fire. We'll be unstoppable."

The promise sent electricity down my spine. Not just partners in bed, but partners in vengeance. Technical expertise merged with calculated violence. The perfect predatory pair.

"I can't wait," I whispered, and meant it with every fiber of my being.