by R Phoenix
“Don’t come early on me now. I promised you sex, not an awkward hand job,” Kolt said softly. The groan from Bryce provoked a quick laugh, and carefully, Kolt pushed his hand away. He rose up on his knees once more, to position himself over Bryce’s hard dick.
“Careful,” Bryce murmured.
Kolt had to stifle a laugh. “Incubus,” he reminded Bryce, lowering himself and letting the man’s cock impale him, inch by slow inch. He lowered his lips to Bryce’s, kissing him as he eased all the way down into his lap. The moan that erupted from the detective was more than satisfying to hear, and he could feel the lust become practically palpable in an instant.
Bryce’s arms tightened around his waist, holding him close, but not squeezing him too tight. It was perfect as Kolt rocked slowly, starting a careful rhythm, not wanting to drive either of them to climax too hard or too fast. He wanted to fucking savor this, unlike the last time they’d done it — sloppy, hastily, and definitely not his best performance. He had something to make up for.
Bryce continued to kiss him. His lips, his chin, his neck and throat, under his ear… nuzzling into his skin and moaning intermittently whenever Kolt bore down or rocked a little harder — and there was already something brewing inside of him. It was something hot and filthy and delicious, and Kolt let himself feed carefully as he worked them both closer and closer to climax with each rotation of his hips.
“Fuck, you’re so hot, and beautiful,” Bryce murmured, one of his hands skimming along his skin, down to his ass, along his thigh — every inch of him.
Kolt moaned quietly too, encouraging the man to touch more, feel more… He coaxed him into another kiss, and the switch was expected. Kolt could feel it coming, but he hadn’t expected the gentility with which he was lifted up — still impaled — and placed down on his back on the bed. He flexed his hips, spreading his legs a little wider, expecting the pounding that usually followed, but not this time.
Not with Bryce Ackerman at the helm. Bryce rolled his hips gently, carefully, but driving down deep into him all the same. It chased the air from his lungs, and he gasped when that cock was withdrawn then pushed forward, deep inside of him again to the fucking hilt and then a little farther. Kolt bit his lip, feeling Bryce’s climax approaching fast. It only took two more of those agonizingly slow, deep thrusts before the man’s back went rigid and his hips jerked upwards. Kolt stilled, sliding his hand along Bryce’s back — caressing him and looking up at him with a satisfied smirk.
“Oh no,” Bryce said with a shake of his head. “You’re not doing the afterglow until you can have an afterglow,” he insisted.
Much to Kolt’s surprise, he continued to drive his cock into him despite having just come. Slow, deep, intense, and with the man looking down at him, into his eyes, and Kolt groaned. It was good, it felt good, and he wanted it, but—
“C’mon then, Detective. You’re not gonna fuck me into an orgasm, so you better work at it,” he instructed between heavy breaths, reaching for one of Bryce’s supporting hands. He took it gently and wrapped it around his own dick.
For a moment, the man seemed to be caught off guard by the fact that he was suddenly holding a penis that wasn’t his own, but it didn’t take more than a split second before his hand was stroking him in time with the thrusts of his hips.
“Fucking faster,” Kolt dictated, and as if he’d hit the accelerator on a car, Bryce did as he was told, picking up the pace for him, stroking and fucking him in perfect sync. Kolt’s hands slid up and down the man’s back. It was slick with sweat, but his nails found some purchase along the shoulder blades — not quite scratching, but he could hear the sharp intake of breath as the detective doubled down, screwing him a little harder, squeezing his cock a little tighter.
Kolt’s climax was sudden, hitting him like a ton of bricks. Rather than the usual slow onset, it was an onslaught, rocking his body violently and unexpectedly. He arched, his fingers clenching at the damp, slick skin of Bryce’s back, his hips jerking — provoking a moan from Bryce as Kolt shot his load into his hand.
It took a minute of writhing and flexing as he rode the wave of that unexpected orgasm, but they both stilled eventually. Kolt struggled to catch his breath for a few moments longer, as every movement had him acutely aware of Bryce touching him, of Bryce’s cock inside of him, Bryce’s hand still on his cock. With every realization, his hips flexed again, and he bit his lower lip hard.
“You’ll have to tell me how you like it,” Bryce murmured against his neck between ragged breaths.
Kolt chuckled, still breathless himself. “S’okay,” he said with a shake of his head. “You were good. For a human,” he added, biting his lower lip once again, but this time to stifle his laughter.
“Thanks. I think,” Bryce said, slowly pulling out of him, and dropping down on the bed beside him.
Kolt smiled and looked over at him. “Well,” he said dryly. “You stayed hard after to fuck me good,” he mused.
“...Uh-huh,” Bryce said, still panting.
“And you’re still alive,” Kolt added.
“Oh my god, you fucking suck at pillow talk,” Bryce muttered, before rolling off of the bed, flinging a pillow back at him, which Kolt caught with a guffaw.
Chapter Thirty-Two
The table was cold against Kolt’s ass, even through the fabric of Bryce’s sweatpants. The t-shirt and hoodie were starting to get a little bit large on him, and he had the sleeves pulled up to his elbows because of it. It wasn’t surprising that he was becoming less masculine and more effeminate again — and shorter.
It was what Bryce had been into to begin with, but still, Kolt hadn’t really minded being tall, dark, and handsome for the few days it had lasted. Now he was looking younger and less rugged. He’d cut his hair shorter still than Leandro had chopped it, a boy’s cut now that fell in careful layers over his forehead — dark auburn, he supposed the color was, while his eyes remained blue.
People seemed to really like that, and Kolt was partial to the brightness of his new eye color too. It was so different from what he’d been used to, stuck in the same look for all those years spent with Leandro. It was still a surprise every morning when he looked in the mirror to see the gradual changes now that he was with Bryce and among other people again — humans, even.
He drew in a deep breath and let it out in a great heave, drumming his fingers on the examination table. He glanced up at Tobias, who stoically ignored all his signals.
Or perhaps he genuinely hadn’t noticed them. It seemed impossible, but Tobias wasn’t exactly normal. Kolt had spent at least the past five minutes sighing, and slumping, and rolling his head from left to right, pulling his shoulders back. He’d even yawned.
Percy wasn’t as good at pretending he didn’t notice, though he gave it a valiant attempt. Still, he met Kolt’s eyes cautiously every now and again before quickly looking back at the notes he was taking. He was always taking notes.
Kolt sighed once more, just for good measure.
“Extraordinary,” Tobias muttered, while removing the blood-pressure cuff. “We should draw some more blood too, and maybe—”
“More DNA,” Percy agreed with a nod, putting the tablet down and moving across the lab for swabs and jars and—
“Don’t you have enough yet?” Kolt asked.
Tobias scoffed at him. “You may be the only incubus we’ll ever have the chance of—” He paused, seemingly unable to find the right word.
“Studying like a guinea pig?” he filled in dryly, while presenting his arm — again. They had to have several gallons of his blood stored by now.
“Meeting,” Percy corrected primly when he returned with the swabs, again. “I mean, if it’s too much and you need a break?” Percy started apologetically, while Tobias unremorsefully jabbed the needle into his arm again.
He wasn’t even good at it, and it stung every time.
Kolt looked at Percy, drawing up his eyebrows before reaching out and taking the swab the oth
er man was holding, swabbing his own cheek helpfully and offering it back to the guy.
“...Thank you,” Percy said politely, but he was clearly a little taken aback.
“You know,” Kolt said with a smirk. “If you really want data, one of you should just sleep with me.”
Tobias promptly failed the vial swap, pinching his arm and almost dropping the vial of blood in shock. Percy just froze where he stood.
“What,” Tobias said. “That— that would be highly irregular,” he stammered out.
Kolt carelessly pulled up a shoulder. “I’m an incubus. You wanna study me in my natural habitat, right?” he suggested with a smirk.
“It’s— no. I mean, yes, but not— It’s not— We can’t—” Tobias continued looking at Percy for help, who still just stared at him like a deer in the headlights.
“Oh come on, boys, it’s just sex. I won’t even make you kiss each other,” he added — just to see how much he could embarrass them, and if their heads would explode if he overloaded them with filthy thoughts.
“I’m straight,” Percy finally squeaked out — as if that meant anything.
“Really?” Kolt said with a narrowing of his eyes as he gave Percy a contemplative look up and down. “Even if it’s me…?” he asked, smiling innocently. He grabbed the edge of the table he was sitting on and leaned forward, bringing his face dangerously close to Percy’s.
In turn, Percy quickly stepped back and fumbled to put the swab with DNA in the jar he’d grabbed for it. “Doesn’t matter how good-looking you are, I’m straight,” he said — but he didn’t look back at Kolt.
“Well,” Kolt drawled, looking at Tobias next— whose face turned even more red and puffy. Not very attractive. “I could always go female, in the name of science,” he offered sweetly.
“What?” Percy and Tobias asked simultaneously.
Kolt looked from one to the other, lifting his eyebrows. “...Don’t tell me you always thought incubi and succubi were two different things.” He straightened up, or at least slouched a little less.
“You— You’re saying you’re… you’re also female?” Tobias asked cautiously.
“No. I’m clearly male now,” he said. “I’m saying I can switch, if I so desire.”
“What the fuck,” someone else said.
Kolt glanced up with a teasing smirk at Bryce who entered, holding a tray of coffee.
“You can be a woman?” Bryce asked, catching up to the conversation. He crossed the distance and handed Percy and Tobias their coffees, but he set the other two aside.
Kolt eyed the drinks but said nothing about them, nodding. “Yep, tits, vagina, the whole nine yards,” he said, making sure it sounded almost like a promise.
“Why don’t you then?” Bryce asked. Some part of the detective was still rebelling at the idea of fucking another man, clearly.
“Because I don’t identify as female. Duh,” Kolt muttered. Since it wasn’t being offered, he just took one of the remaining three coffees from the tray and took a sip.
“Right,” Bryce said slowly, stepping closer and leaning a hand on the examination table — between Kolt’s own hand and his thigh.
Kolt licked his lips and glanced at him. The good detective wasn’t exactly being subtle, but he said nothing of it. The nerds were too preoccupied now to take note of anything condemning.
“We— That—” Tobias said, putting his coffee down and looking flabbergasted. “The whole database, it’s all wrong then—” he muttered, and he turned to the nearest computer, Percy joining him.
“If that’s true, then we’ve been looking at this all the wrong way. It explains the chromosomal discrepancies we’d noticed,” the latter chimed in.
Kolt lost interest in their obsession pretty soon, looking back at Bryce. “What’re you doing here…?” he asked quietly.
Bryce moved in, putting his other hand on the other side of him, ineffectively trapping him on the table.
Kolt leaned a little more forward again, aware of how much shorter he was than Bryce now. “I thought we couldn’t be obvious, Detective,” he murmured in a conspiring tone.
“What?” Bryce said innocently. “We’re just talking, right?” He smirked.
Kolt’s lips twitched into a smirk of his own, and he let the subject go. “Short, huh?” he prompted, sitting up as straight as he could. “You had to like short.”
“I also like boobs,” Bryce pointed out. “Just boobs, for me then?” he asked quietly.
Kolt laughed. “Really? Dick girls are your thing?” he asked sweetly.
“.... Well. No. Maybe not, I guess. I don’t know,” he said with a shake of his head.
Kolt chuckled again, taking another sip of his coffee. “What’re you doing here?” he asked again. “Shouldn’t you be working?” he prompted, because the deal had been clear. Bryce would check Kolt into the office, where he would be studied while Bryce worked, then straight back to the detective’s house. No outings, no fun…
“Making sure the mad scientists hadn’t pulled you apart yet.” Bryce said.
Kolt smiled amiably at him.
“You know, you could say no to all of this—” Kolt already knew what Bryce was going to say, and he looked down at his coffee cup. If he rolled over on Leandro, he could offer the Organization something truly valuable, instead of just more information for a database no one really cared about the accuracy of except for Tobias and Percy.
“Who is the fifth coffee for?” Kolt asked, hoping to change the subject.
“...Emma,” Bryce said, and his voice was cautious as he said her name.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” he muttered. More legal questions, just what he needed today!
“Glad to see you, too,” Emma said as she entered the room, tablet in hand.
Bryce immediately straightened up and put some distance between him and Kolt.
Not that Emma would notice right then. She only had eyes for one thing: the coffee. She went straight for it, and she probably needed it badly if the bags under her eyes were any indication.
“Hmm…” Kolt hummed, forcing a smile that couldn’t possibly look genuine at all. “To what do I owe the pleasure this time?” he prompted her, hoping to get it over with fast. He preferred being a lab rat to being on the fucking stand with the likes of her.
“This isn’t a social call,” Emma replied. “Leandro’s lawyers are putting pressure on us. If we’re not charging you, he wants you returned.”
Kolt couldn’t help the chill that shot down his spine at the idea of that. He didn’t even know if the fae would take him back as he was now. He looked nothing like he had, and he’d fucked just about everyone the fae hated. “Okay,” he said cautiously, glancing from her to Bryce and back. “I thought you were charging him.”
“We are,” Bryce said. “We will,” he amended. “But if we charge him with responsibility, and he drops his claim on you—”
Emma set her coffee aside, unlocking her tablet and scanning the screen. “So you’ve confessed to the murders?” she asked him.
“No,” Kolt replied immediately. If he’d learned one thing from Leandro, it was that you never fucking confessed to anything you weren’t sure you could get out of.
“The investigation is still ongoing,” Bryce said slowly, eyeing Emma warily. “What’re you getting at?”
“We can’t charge Leandro if we can’t prove his…” She hesitated, a slight edge to her voice as she continued, “slave… was culpable. Otherwise, he’ll be returned to the fae.”
Kolt felt his palms getting sweaty, and he looked at Bryce, hoping for some advice or guidance there, but the detective just looked pensive. “So I need to confess, or you can’t charge him?” Kolt repeated, mostly to stall for time. “And then, if he gives up his claim, I’m— I’m still on the hook? How is that in any way fair?”
“It’s a catch 22. It’s not,” Bryce said immediately.
Emma nodded to Bryce. “It isn’t,” she confirmed. “But it’s the on
ly way to keep you from going back to him. We can’t hold you more than…” She checked the time. “Another two hours.” She took a deep breath. “We can work on your plea. Post-traumatic stress disorder, starvation, severe abuse…” She trailed off. “There are precedents.”
Kolt felt sick, and he shook his head, looking up a moment. “He’ll never admit to losing control over me. Never, ever. He’d give me up,” he said, his hand twitching and flexing involuntarily. He never should’ve left. He never should’ve been so stupid to leave and think he could— what? Get away? He hadn’t even tried to get away. He’d fucking stayed in the neighborhood instead of running as far as he could.
Bryce’s hand grabbed his and squeezed it gently. “It’s okay,” he said.
Kolt looked him in the eye, not sure if the detective was delusional or just lying. Maybe both. “It’s not,” he argued. “There’s no way this ends well for me, and you know it. You all know it. And then what? I get locked up forever, or worse, for everyone’s safety but my own?” he asked, his voice rising in volume even though he was trying to force himself to stay calm. This couldn’t be fucking happening…
“You have no reason to trust me,” Emma said curtly, “but this is what I do. The worst you’ll get is rehabilitation and release back into society, as long as we can prove… well, temporary insanity, for lack of a better word. There’s enough precedent.”
“Oh, fuck you. You’ve got exactly zero precedent where an incubus is involved,” Kolt snapped. “You barely even know we exist.”
Emma’s cheeks flushed. “In general, Kolt,” she replied.
“Hey, Kolt, calm down, please?” Bryce hushed him gently.
Part of him hated it — hated the quiet words that he knew too well. He could practically feel the hand on his neck, the lips on his forehead and he shivered. “I am calm,” he said shortly, even if his heart was racing, and he felt the urge to do something truly horrible. “If I inform on him, can you put him away then? And make this go away?” he asked, trying to breathe normally, but it wasn’t happening. It was erratic and short, as he glanced from Emma to Bryce and back.
