The waitress brought their food and Miko pushed the plate of steak away. He wasn't going to eat the side dishes that came with it either, but that could stay close by. “What if he did not want you to...do that?”
“The only problem Vincent might have with it would be if he didn't get a piece himself. But Casey?” Frank gave him a look of understanding. “Maybe I'd sic you on them.” Miko smiled for the first time that evening. He was one of theirs. “So what do you say? Are we doing this or not?”
Looking from the steak back to his plate of vegetables, Miko was no longer smiling. Everything Miko was, everything that defined him, hinged on one more lie. Everything he'd been taught, everything he believed in: justice and vengeance; protecting the ones he loved from those who hurt them; violence. One more lie and he would have revenge. And lose Toby.
Miko was about to helplessly admit that he didn't know when Blondie reached over with his fork and knife, asking “Are you gonna eat that?” while already cutting into the steak.
Staring at Blondie aghast while he fiendishly devoured Miko's ritual, Miko very confidently stated, “He is doing it.”
“Good choice,” Frank said. “We'll make him regret ever laying eyes on your friend.”
“Toby!” he said far louder than necessary in his enthusiasm. Miko cleared his throat and quietly added, “His name is Toby.”
Tossing some cash on the table, Frank stood and gestured for Vincent to follow. “Thank Toby for the cookies. If he changes his mind, call me. Let's say midnight?”
“Danke.” Miko watched them leave in awe. The only plate that wasn't licked clean was his vegetables. He hadn't even noticed that Blondie ate his mashed potatoes. Miko was supposed to pay for dinner. Miko was supposed to pay for the hit. But Miko was their own.
He hurriedly drove home, so excited over everything that had happened that he was jittery. But Miko was most excited that he'd done the right thing. He'd made the right choice, the good choice. Toby would not be scared ever again.
But Miko would.
He stood in the apartment, the silence weighing so heavily on his head that he felt like he would fall down. Toby wasn't there.
Toby wasn't there.
Miko looked around but he knew the apartment was empty. He could feel its emptiness and he wanted to sit in the cabinet but he couldn't do it without him. He couldn't do anything without him.
Sitting on the floor where they'd sat together while Miko told him the truth, Miko thought of that moment, of Toby holding him and comforting him and promising to never let go of him. Saying he loved him. That it didn't matter what he did. Who he was. The steak Toby had cooked was no longer on the table. Just the fruit bowl that Miko may as well have broken. Toby wanted to leave last night. Just walk away. “But I did the right thing,” he whispered. He was too shocked to cry. He was too shocked to stand.
He was too shocked to hear Toby come in behind him until he concernedly called out, “Miko?”
Miko hugged Toby's legs. Getting up would take too long. “They are doing it,” he said, holding Toby's legs so tight that Toby had to grab the top of Miko's head to keep his balance. “I did not lie. Well I did lie but now I am not and I want to kill him because I love you but I will not.” He looked up at Toby expectantly but Toby just looked confused.
“You want to try that again in English?”
“Oh,” he said sheepishly. “I was speaking German with Frank. They will do it. At midnight so I can call if you change your mind. I did not lie. For you I will not kill him for you.”
“I know,” Toby said with that pitying smile on his face when Miko was slow to understand. “You were telling the truth when you left.”
“I was?” Miko didn't even realize that himself. “I mean yes I was!”
“Kocham Cie, little spoon.” Toby tried to sink down to the floor with him but Miko was still holding on so he just sort of tipped over on top of him instead.
Miko mauled him with kisses and pinned Toby down beneath him as if he could keep him there forever. “I thought you were gone.”
“I was just taking out the trash. That had to be like twenty pounds of baked goods.”
“And the steak.”
Toby sighed apologetically. “And the steak. Are you totally traumatized?”
“You made good point even without gun,” Miko said, tracing his finger over Toby's forehead. “I need to mark your words in my brain with my mental problems.”
“That would certainly save a lot of trouble,” he teased and Miko kissed him again. But Toby's expression quickly grew serious once more. “Thank you for understanding. I know it must be hard for you to let this go. It's hard for me too.”
“There is nothing to let go.” Miko grinned, opening both hands wide. “You set the kitchen on fire so we stay at hotel—”
“Smoke is the story,” Toby corrected sternly, “not fire. They were merely burned.”
“Because of bad smoke that I will not kill, we stay in hotel. And soon we travel and stay at lots of hotels.”
Toby's face lit up with joy. “I have some free time now. I just finished this really big contract.”
“You could use vacation.” Miko was so enamored with Toby's smile that it occurred to him just how long it had been since Toby was truly happy. “You work so much you are tired and burn cookies even without the D.”
With a slight blush Toby asked, “Did Blondie like his cookies?”
“He ate my steak.”
Toby gasped. “He what?”
“And my mashed potatoes. He is little monster. They said thank you for the cookies, though I do not think he shared with Frank.”
Gently wrapping his arms around Miko's ribs, Toby smiled and said, “I saved some for you.”
“Frank cannot have those either.”
“You wouldn't share with Frank?” he laughed.
“I have forgotten his phone number so I cannot call him.” Miko smirked and looked away as if it wasn't clear that he was lying. “For cookies.”
“I'm sure it'll come to you.”
“Probably after midnight.”
“Probably.” Toby's eyes met his, fully without shying away. “Can I make you dinner?”
Miko nodded, sensing this was just as important to Toby as not letting him murder Bradley. He helped him up and followed him to the kitchen, staying close as if Toby would vanish into thin air if he let him out of his sight. Miko positioned himself behind him, holding onto him and watching over Toby's shoulder while he chopped vegetables. The knife was so sharp that Miko couldn't help but think of it cutting through Bradley, of Toby using it on him instead of just hitting him. But even hitting him had caused Toby so much turmoil, killing him would've killed Toby too. He just didn't have it in him. If Miko hadn't come home when he did, there may not have been anything left of Toby no matter what the outcome. “You will tell me if someone is scaring you?” he asked. Toby tensed and Miko affectionately nuzzled the back of his neck. “I would not have you be afraid of anyone.”
“I thought he was nice,” Toby said quietly. Maybe he really did attract the type.
“You thought I was trouble,” Miko reminded him. Toby laughed. “We can fix together before it is too bad?”
“I didn't want you to break all of his limbs and throw him in the harbor, either.” Toby wasn't particularly convincing in that matter since he'd released the knife and was sensually leaning back into Miko's embrace, but there was a clear difference in his reaction to broken limbs and savage murder.
“I do not have to hurt. I could just...show you are taken.”
“What, like marking your territory?”
Sliding his hand up Toby's chest to his throat, Miko gently tilted Toby's head back, Miko's prosthetics against his jaw. “Yes that.” Between healing from his gunshot wound and having Nasir staying with them, there hadn't been much opportunity for true intimacy, the kind that took strength and made noise. The kind that Toby craved. Miko craved it too. His ribs remained sore but compared to the
pain in his heart over Rodrigo and then nearly losing Toby, it would've taken another bullet to slow him down now.
Toby panted as Miko held him to his chest with one arm, the other hand traveling lower to grab Toby's thigh and pull him closer. “But your dinner...” Toby didn't continue, shifting in Miko's arms to kiss him as several pieces of chopped vegetables were knocked off the cutting board and fell to the floor.
Pressing Toby against the counter, all of Miko's agitation left him, the stress of that week and of the months before it, revenge and mourning and helplessness, and it was just Toby there with him in the kitchen, cooking for him. Taking care of him. He kissed him roughly, the taste of Toby's mouth clearing his head more than his candies, the quiet moan it elicited ringing in Miko's ears.
More vegetables fell as Miko pulled Toby's shirt up over his head, raising his arms so Toby could help him with his own shirt. “Bedroom,” Toby whispered.
Miko shook his head. “Kitchen.”
Toby blushed, that part of himself he endlessly struggled with, to do what he was told, what was appropriate. That made him want it even more for being wrong. “Miko—”
“I can hold you down,” he added, not so much a threat as more foreplay. Toby's blush deepened and he gripped the sides of Miko's pants, turning his face away just slightly to smile and nod. Miko purposefully grabbed the most expensive cooking oil Toby had from the cabinet, nearly evoking a complaint from him before touching his prosthetic finger to Toby's lips.
Lowering his head, Toby kissed Miko's palm, closing his eyes and resting his face against Miko's hand. He held onto Miko's wrist, his lips trailing down to the beginning of the tattoo. Toby's delicate touch made it feel like the skin was still sensitive there, and Miko watched him wordlessly, remembering how much he'd longed for him back in that hotel room but thought he could never have him.
Miko stroked Toby's hair with his other hand, smiling as Toby's eyes opened for just a moment and then he dutifully knelt before him, reaching up to unbutton his pants. Miko casually moved the knife further away so it wouldn't get knocked down with the few remaining vegetables that hadn't already ended up on the floor, and he cradled Toby's head with both hands as Toby took him into his mouth. But Miko found himself distracted by how skinny Toby looked, the angle and light making the bones in his bare shoulders stick out, all the extra weight he'd been carrying alone. He wanted to make Toby forget about it forever.
Tracing his thumb over Toby's cheek, Miko commanded, “Come here.” Toby smiled and stood, self-consciously wiping his mouth as Miko nodded towards the stove. “Turn around.”
Toby's fingers curled instinctively towards his palm where he'd been burned, but a smirk crawled across his face. “Over the stove?”
Fortunately the knobs were at the top so they didn't have to worry about the burners being turned on, or having them embedded in Toby's hips. “Yup,” Miko said proudly. Toby turned and quickly attempted to switch out the olive oil with something cheaper but Miko laid him out flat across the burners before he could get very far, his right hand pressing into Toby's back while he unbuttoned Toby's pants with the left. He took the bottle from him as if Toby had intended to give it over instead of putting it away. “Danke.”
“You're welcome,” Toby said breathlessly, glancing at him sideways with his eyelids heavy.
Miko unscrewed the lid with his teeth which temporarily had Toby wincing until the oil was drizzled over him. Then he desperately arched his back for it, moaning in anticipation. Keeping Toby pinned down with his other hand across his back, Miko swirled the oil between Toby's legs, slipping his finger inside just to tease him. Toby moaned and held on, the hand he'd burned fearlessly splayed across the cool burner.
Using just the oil remaining on his finger Miko stroked himself, moving his hand up to the back of Toby's neck and forcing himself inside. Toby groaned, his eyes glassy with that beautiful moment of letting go, and Miko pulled out to plunge in again, snapping his hips with a force that would leave them both sore.
Miko wrapped his hand around Toby's cock, the side of his arm resting against Toby's inner thigh, the spot Emmett may have touched but Bradley never did and never would, and he began stroking him in rhythm to each solid thrust. Toby reared back without a word, his body begging for the release but clearly preferred it to come from inside rather than at the touch of Miko's hand. Miko stopped stroking just as Toby's breath became more labored, his legs trembling before climax, and he leaned off of him to hold Toby's hips with both hands and fuck him as hard as he could.
Toby tightened around him, squeezing his eyes shut and crying out, and Miko kept going, forcing Toby's moans to get louder and louder until all Miko could hear were his own and he emptied himself inside him. The pain in Miko's ribs was immediate once he pulled out and was no longer favoring other parts of his body, but Miko stayed right where he was, swaying slightly on his feet. Toby would be far more likely to have his legs give out after that level of pummeling so Miko kept him propped up while he caught his breath. Toby rested his face on the cold steel of the stove, reaching back to take Miko's hand. “Did that hurt?”
“No,” he said truthfully. “But it does now.”
Slowly righting himself, Toby gave Miko a sympathetic look but the apology thankfully never made it to his lips. “Why don't you go sit down? I'll get you some ice.”
Miko was pretty sure he'd left Toby's frozen peas on the nightstand yesterday evening, but Toby didn't mention the waste of food or destruction of furniture, and joined him on the sofa once dinner was in the oven. Miko scooted back so Toby could lie in front of him, the warmth of Toby's body far more soothing than the ice pack. It was already nearly ten o'clock and Miko was highly aware of the time, wondering if Toby was too but afraid to mention it in case he wasn't. Two hours, sixteen minutes. Less time than the longest two and a half hours of Toby's life when Miko had called to say he might not be coming home. “When is dinner ready?”
“Twenty minutes. Are you starving?”
“I am okay.” Miko had already eaten half a dozen cookies while Toby was finishing up dinner preparations. He kissed the back of Toby's neck. “Do not worry.”
“I'm not worrying.”
“Then I have fucked you properly.”
He smiled. “You always fuck me properly.”
“But you still worry as soon as I am done.”
Snuggling up to him, Toby kissed Miko's hand again and laid his cheek against it. “You know how I said you were all liars?”
“Lying is part of being an assassin.”
“I know, but...when you were working with Simon, I worried. A lot. Even when I thought you were just a spy I worried a lot. But I feel kind of okay with Joe Russell. Like he'll make sure you come home to me. I mean, if he's gonna be your handler now.”
Joe had said that Toby was smart. And Toby said Joe was nice. “I think he will be, when I go back. You do not mind this? As long as I do not do it to someone you bake cakes for?”
Toby huffed a laugh. “That pretty much sums up the last few months of misery, yeah.”
“And you are happy now?” Miko asked, pressing his hips into him, a sudden urge to fuck him forgetful again.
“Don't even think about it.” Toby crawled off the sofa and out of Miko's reach, glancing over his shoulder with a look that had Miko following him back to the kitchen. “Sit down, I want to serve you.”
Miko sat at the table, welcoming Toby onto his lap with a plate of food. “You eat first.”
“I made this for you!” Toby scoffed.
“It is for me. You are so bony you hurt my hips.”
“Sorry.” He smirked as he took the first bite, knowing Miko didn't like when he apologized.
Miko relented to take the second bite since Toby's food was nearly as irresistible as Toby himself, and he thought suddenly of Hector, how he had tried so hard to find food Miko would actually eat. Apart from the steak, Toby had never made Miko anything he wouldn't eat. “Do you want to see Germany first
?”
“Yes,” Toby said plainly, feeding Miko another bite. “I want to see where you grew up.”
“I grew up all over. We traveled.”
“Yes,” he said again, and he smoothed Miko's hair off his forehead to kiss him. “That's where I want to see.”
But once they finished another plate of food between them, all Miko could see was the clock, counting down. Miko didn't know what would happen if Toby changed his mind. He was fairly certain changing his mind wasn't actually an option. Even if he called Frank off, it didn't make any difference in what had to be done. It just made everything complicated all over again.
Miko kept stealing glances at Toby as they sat together in front of the TV, Toby's arm around him, his hand warm on Miko's sore ribs. Miko couldn't remember ever being this nervous before a job. It wasn't even his job. What if his bad luck passed onto Frank and Blondie? What if Toby was implicated in Bradley's death? What if Toby changed his mind?
“You okay?” Toby asked, and it occurred to Miko that Toby would've been able to feel his heart pounding. Toby's heart was pounding too. Fifteen minutes.
“Yes.”
Toby turned back to the TV, but his grip on Miko had grown tighter. He quickly flipped the channel from a nature program on sharks. Ten minutes.
“I did not really forget Frank's number.”
“I know.”
Seven minutes.
The channel was switched again.
If all clients went through this it was a wonder there was ever work for Miko to fuck up in the first place. He hoped Bradley would suffer more than he was but in those final minutes he was beginning to doubt it.
At eleven fifty-nine Toby took a deep breath, his mouth open to speak. Miko stopped breathing entirely. It was too late to cancel. It was too late to cancel. The time changed. “Should we say it?” Toby asked nervously. “Do Wid—”
Miko placed his hand over Toby's mouth, the words simultaneously bringing him relief and dread. “No. You do not ever say it.” A reassured smile spread over Toby's face from underneath Miko's prosthetic fingers and Miko took his hand away, carefully sliding it down across Toby's jaw to his throat. “And I do not say it to you.”
The Mercy of the Mako Shark Page 24
