Rain had stopped. The streetlights smeared across wet asphalt, stretching into the dark. The mansion waited, hunched and out of time. Shuttered windows, boards nailed tight. The façade drooped, heavy with years. Rusted signs hung from the gate, swaying, whispering warnings to anyone who might come close.
Jared’s stomach twisted. The Dark shifted under his skin, restless, hungry. Adrian pulled into the drive. The mansion gave nothing back. No lights. No movement. Just the wind threading through broken gutters.
“Looks vacant,” Adrian said, glancing at the house. “No cars, no signs of recent activity.”
Jared stepped out. Gravel bit under his boots. The air was thick. Damp wood, rot, mildew, sharp in his nose. “Great. Perfect creepy old house vibes. Totally normal.” His voice was thin, cracking. He didn’t wait. He moved for the door, coat pulled tight, as if it could keep the place out.
Adrian followed, key and data pad in hand. He slung his med pack over his shoulder.
Jared reached for the door. His hand hovered, inches from the handle. The lock shimmered, faint and cold. Dark pulsed through his fingers, familiar, unwelcome. The mechanism pushed back, resisting. The Dark surged from his chest, down his arm, meeting the barrier. Energy curled around his hand, warning. Not welcome.
Adrian stepped close. Silent. Jared tried to steady his breath. Adrian’s calm pressed against him, a quiet anchor. He didn’t know. Couldn’t know what was already clawing under Jared’s skin.
Ignorance is bliss.
“You ready?” Adrian asked.
Jared exhaled, sharp and quick. No answer. He forced the door, Dark pressed through the handle, biting. The lock clicked, reluctant. He stepped inside. The door snapped shut behind him, final.
Darkness and rot. Mold and dust pressed close, thick as breath. Floorboards groaned underfoot. Dust coated everything. Furniture hidden under sheets. Animal heads watched from the walls, glass eyes unblinking. Shadows clung to the corners. Something shifted, aware.
Jared stopped. Heart pounding, breath ragged. Hands clenched at his sides. The Dark curled along his ribs, curious, twitching. It whispered behind his eyes, questions he didn’t want to hear.
Darkness pressed in. The earth’s scent, heavy, suffocating. Hollowed people, chained and left to rot...
Adrian's flashlight cut a path through the gloom. He aimed it at the edges of the furniture and hovered over the Egyptian-themed décor. Statues, plaques, and hieroglyphics covered almost every available surface.
They stepped through the entryway and into a small, neglected kitchen. Piles of unwashed dishes leaned in chaotic stacks. A smear of something sticky remained on the counter. The fridge was barely stocked. Adrian crouched to inspect the contents with a practiced eye, as if judging the living habits of someone long gone.
"Looks like someone was actually living here," he said softly. "Probably LeMere."
Jared’s stomach knotted. Dark slipped past his grip, seeping out. He wanted to scrub himself raw. No soap could touch what this place left on him.
“Great,” he muttered. “Just the kind of cozy, lived-in horror I was hoping for.”
They moved, carefully, Jared leading. Pistols drawn. Adrian’s light swept ahead, cutting a path. Old habits. Easy, automatic.
Every creak, every shuffle in the dark crawled under Jared’s skin. Movement flickered at the edge of the light. Small. Alive. Scratching. Scuttling.
Scratching above. Jared’s breath caught. The Dark flexed, billowing out, then pulling back. He breathed in the room, the Dark filling his lungs. He felt them. Small things, moving in the dark. Dozens.
Adrian’s hand brushed his arm. Not restraint. A reminder. Grounding. Jared swallowed, nodded. His voice tangled in his chest, caught in the Dark’s pulse.
At the stairs, the air thickened, heavy, pressing down. Jared moved slowly, weighted. Adrian followed, light, untouched by the Dark. Symbols carved into the bannister pulsed at the edge of vision. Faint, almost not there.
The Dark rippled inside. Something tugged, pulling him up. He gripped the banister, trying to anchor himself. Symbols flashed behind his eyes. He moved, not entirely by choice.
Adrian followed silently, stepping carefully behind him. No words. No light chatter. Just the rhythm of boots against wood and the occasional creak of the old structure.
Top floor. A bedroom. The door was wrong. Arcane, locked tight. Jared stepped forward, Adrian at his back. The lock pushed back, resisting. He holstered his pistol and pressed his hand to the door. Breath ragged. Something inside pulled at him, even as the door shoved him away.
His joints ground against stone. Pain, sharp and deep. Adrian’s hand pressed to his back. The pressure eased, just enough. Jared gripped the handle, let the Dark go. No finesse, just force. It surged out, wrapped him in shadow, tendrils unfurling, tasting the room.
Dark slid down his arm, through his hand. The door clicked. A trap: dart, blue venom, fire in his neck. Adrian’s hands, quick, sure, pushed his own away.
"Leave it," he ordered.
Jared sagged against the doorframe. Adrian worked fast: sample, scan, dart out, patch pressed to skin. Two quick injections.
"That better?" Adrian asked.
"Yeah," Jared said. He straightened himself. "Thanks."
He went to rub the area, but Adrian swatted his hand away.
"Leave it alone," he said.
Jared snorted.
He saw it then. His Dark had wrapped Adrian, too. Both of them were caught in a swirl of black, shadows writhing around their feet.
"It's not harming me," Adrian stated.
Jared hissed, teeth bared. Weapon drawn. He turned, peering into the room. The pull was still there, insistent, hungry.
A temple of rot and obsession. Candles crowded around a gold statue. The Egyptian god Seth, watching. Incense and decay tangled in the air. Lines and circles carved into marble, hieroglyphics he couldn’t read. In the center, a podium. The tome waited. Old. It called to him, not with words, but with a pull deep in his chest.
Jared holstered his pistols. Calm, sudden, and strange, it settled over him. The Dark coiled, twitching. The tome hummed, alive. Promises whispered: knowledge, freedom, power, peace. Each word slipped into the hollow places in his mind, prying them open. A voice, soft and seductive, brushed against the broken edges inside him.
Adrian noticed the change immediately. He reached out, hand firm on Jared’s arm, before he could lean forward. “Don’t,” he said quietly. “Step back.”
He felt it. A touch in the emptiness of his chest. Promises to fill the hollow, to mend the broken edges, to make him whole. The Dark surged out, filling the room, pulsing with his heartbeat. Jared’s fists clenched. Muscles taut, nerves burning. The tome’s voice grew, filling him.
He was one of the people in the darkness. He was hollowed out and left for dead.
Seductive. Patient. It promised everything. No judgment, only release. The pull to let go, to fall into the abyss it offered.
And then the sound began: soft scuttling. Tiny claws clicking across stone. Shadows rippled along the edges of the room. Adrian’s flashlight beam caught the first movement. A fist-sized, grotesque form crawling along the floor. Another joined it. Then another. The hands moved like spiders. They were disjointed and scuttling with deliberate hunger.
Jared screamed. The Dark hissed and pulsed. He could feel the book moving inside his mind. It promised him everything. He tried to move towards the book, but Adrian’s grip held firm on his arm.
The crawling hands multiplied, coming from every corner and every shadow. They moved fast. The sound of fingers scraping stone and nails tapping on wood filled the room with a chorus of unnatural life.
Adrian shifted so he was standing in front of Jared with his back towards the book. He put an arm around Jared.
“Stay close. Don’t panic.”
Dizzy. Power, horror, seduction. So close he could taste it. He felt himself unravelling, wanting it more than anything. The Dark shrank, wrapping just the two of them in a thin veil of shadow. Jared leaned into Adrian.
One hand scuttled toward him, twitching unnaturally. Adrian moved quickly, stomping on the hand.
“Focus on me,” Adrian said. “Not them. Not it.”
Hands clicked, circled, probed. More and more, inching closer. The Dark surged from the tome, shoving at him, urging obedience. Jared’s eyes found Adrian’s. Calm, steady, holding him here.
He let out a shaky breath and forced his hands to unclench. Adrian’s gaze never wavered from him.
“We can handle this,” Adrian said quietly. “Together. You don’t need to touch it.”
Jared nodded, his voice gone.
Adrian moved, light, deliberate. Kicked a hand aside. Drew his pistol, shots precise, each one measured. He guided Jared back, step by step, in control against the chaos.
The tome pulsed once more, soft and insistent. Jared’s fingers twitched toward it, but Adrian’s hand caught his wrist, iron against his own.
“Not now,” Adrian said. “Not until we understand it.”
The tome hissed. Hands clicked, closing in. They stepped back, Adrian leading, Jared following. Heart pounding. The whisper of forbidden knowledge lingered, echoing in the dark corners of his mind.
Once back in the bedroom, Adrian slammed the door shut.
The bedroom was a refuge, but thin. The door shuddered, the house resenting them. Beyond: scraping, skittering clicks grew louder. Jared’s pulse hammered. The Dark coiled, restless, reaching for the door, for the book. It wanted him to go back. To give in.
Adrian set his shoulder against the door, bracing it. “We’re not done,” he said, voice low, urgent.
Jared nodded, hands shaking. Claws pressed at the door, knuckles scraping, nails tapping, precise and relentless. Thump. Another. The room called them forward.
The first hand slipped through. Small, spindly, moving too fast, too sure. Fingers jerked like spider legs, claws scraping as they lunged. Jared raised his pistol, hands shaking, and fired. Bones splintered, fragments scattered.
Adrian moved with deadly precision. Each shot was calculated, measured, and carefully aimed to intercept the advancing horrors. He didn’t hesitate, didn’t flinch. One hand lunged at Jared from the side; Adrian’s shot caught it midair. Another hand crawled up the bedpost toward Jared’s shoulder; Adrian snapped the barrel of his pistol downward, crushing it flat against the wooden frame.
“Jared! Focus!” Adrian’s voice cut through. Jared’s eyes snapped to him. Panic, longing for the book, both fighting inside. Hands surged closer. One leapt for his foot. He kicked, bone snapping, but another crawled up behind. The Dark pressed in, coiling, whispering. Just touch the tome, just end it, be whole.
“No!” Adrian’s voice was sharp, urgent. He shoved Jared back, pistol flashing again. The shots were clean, each hand that dared approach meeting the cold precision of the gun. A wave of clicks answered the recoil, but the hands hesitated at the sight of Adrian’s unwavering presence.
The room blurred. Hands everywhere, skittering up walls, leaping from the dark. Jared’s breath tore in and out. The Dark shrieked, seduction whispering at the edge of thought. Knowledge, release, power. Adrian stayed, solid, pushing back against hands and the tome’s pull.
A rhythm. Shoot. Step. Kick. He and Adrian moved as one, each covering the other. The hands were fast, but they were faster. Claws crushed, shot, stomped. The clicking grew frantic, desperate.
The last hand fell, twitching, done. Silence crashed down, heavy. Shadows clung to the corners, empty now. Only the Dark’s hum, the tome’s whisper, and their ragged breath remained.
Jared slid down the wall, chest heaving. Adrian dropped beside him, hand steady on his shoulder. “You okay?”
Jared swallowed hard. “I… yeah. I think so.”
The tome’s whisper lingered, patient, seductive. He felt it pulling, promising, but he stayed where he was.
Adrian’s gaze was steady. "Now, let's take care of the book."
Jared watched Adrian move, hands sure, eyes focused.
Adrian stepped back from the pedestal. Tablet out, fingers moving fast. He called them all in. Containment for the book, forensics for the rest, Clean Up for the hands. The mansion’s silence broke as vehicles pulled up outside.
Adrian’s voice cut through the gathering noise, sharp and authoritative, “Secure the basement and sweep for residual Dark. Entry on the east wing. Coordinate extraction of the tome and all artifacts. Containment shields up at all times. No direct contact until the field is stable. We cannot risk contamination.”
No questions, no hesitation. Adrian was efficient, exact. Orders sharp and precise. Jared watched, admiration and envy tangled inside. Adrian commanded without effort. No doubt, no falter. Everyone listened. Jared wished he could do the same.
Teams moved in, precise. Containment gear, analyzers, and wards. They settled in fast; efficient.
Adrian put away his tablet and came over to where Jared was watching him.
"That's everything for now," he said, putting a hand on the small of Jared's back.
Jared nodded. Hands itching, Dark coiling under his skin. He wanted to touch the tome, just once. To feel its knowledge burn through him. Adrian’s calm held him back, kept the urge from tipping over.
Adrian gestured toward the door. “Let's go home.”
The drive back was silent. Jared watched the world blur past the window.
At Jared’s apartment, Adrian led the way in. Keys, door, living room. Jared followed slowly.
"Let me check your injuries," he said, pointing to the couch.
Jared leaned against the wall, watching Adrian set up. The mansion still pressed against him. Whispers from the tome, the itch of hands on his skin, the Dark pulsing in his chest. Adrian knelt by the sofa, opening a kit full of tools Jared didn’t know. Every movement was methodical, controlled.
Jared’s voice was brittle. “You don’t have to do that.”
Adrian looked up briefly, eyes softening for a fraction of a second before professionalism reclaimed them. “I want to make sure you’re alright.”
Jared swallowed, words stuck. He wanted to say something, but nothing came. He slumped onto the couch, pushing things onto the floor but not paying attention to that. Adrian crouched beside him, checking scanner readings, hands steady, hovering close but not touching.
“You’ll be okay,” Adrian said softly.
Jared wanted to believe. But the Dark slid through his guts, twisting doubt tight. How could he be okay with this thing inside him?
“How do we stop it?” Jared asked, voice raw.
Adrian’s eyes met his. “We stopped it from hurting you tonight. That’s enough. We don’t control it. We contain it, we wait, we learn. That’s how we survive.”
Jared nodded. It would be so easy. Just reach into the Dark, let go. He clenched his fists. Adrian said nothing, just sat beside him. Minutes passed. Silence. The equipment hummed, lights blinking as it scanned.
Adrian reached over, brushed damp hair from Jared’s forehead. The touch was light, careful. Jared froze, heart pounding. He wanted to look away, to pretend it was nothing. But he didn’t. Not really.
“You need to rest,” Adrian said, voice low and gentle.
Jared exhaled sharply. Stared at his feet. Nothing to say. Silence. Adrian didn’t press, just settled on the sofa’s edge. The closeness was almost too much.
Jared noticed everything. Adrian’s shoulders, the calm in his eyes, hands always ready. The truth pressed in. He’d followed Adrian not just for duty, but trust. Something deeper. Something he was afraid to name.
Adrian finally spoke again. “I'll take care of your wounds.”
He started with the small abrasions. He cleaned each quickly and efficiently. Jared flinched, but didn’t pull away.
He gave him another shot. "The dart's residue is neutralized. That should help you feel better in a bit."
“You’re not seriously injured,” Adrian said. He was looking down at the equipment's readouts.
Jared nodded, a weak laugh escaping him. “I feel… not okay, anyway.”
Adrian didn’t respond immediately, simply meeting his gaze and giving him the space to admit his own fear without words. Jared swallowed hard. The admission caught somewhere between pride and terror. The Dark stirred again at the edges of his consciousness. Whispering, pressing, urging him to lean into it, to surrender just a little so he could finally know peace.
“You want me to stay?” Adrian asked, voice soft.
Jared hesitated, swallowing hard.
“You don’t have to,” he muttered, though his words lacked conviction.
Adrian’s hand hovered, then rested lightly on the couch beside him.
“…I want to,” he said simply.
Those words shattered him. The fight slipped away, leaving only an ache. He nodded, silent.
Adrian moved. He read the nod, understood all of it. Off the couch, kneeling before Jared. Hands on Jared's thighs. The tremor there, impossible to hide.
“Look at me, Jared," he whispered. His voice inviting.
Jared's eyes met Adrian's. Only a heartbeat. Adrian's gaze was too much. Always too much. No more cold analysis. Only heat now, focused, searching. A question was burning there.
He couldn't answer that look. Couldn't. He looked past Adrian's shoulder, catching only the edge of his face. Easier that way. Less overwhelming.
Adrian lifted his hand. Slow. Careful. Jared could have pulled away. Almost did. Adrian's palm found his cheek, thumb tracing bone. The touch was impossibly gentle. Jared trembled, caught between wanting and fear.
“It’s just me,” Adrian murmured, his voice a low vibration that seemed to settle in Jared’s bones. “Just us. Nothing else.”
Adrian leaned in. His breath was warm against Jared's lips. He waited there. A question. Jared answered it by closing the distance and bringing their lips together.
Adrian's mouth was warm and certain. Black tea. Mint. Antiseptic soap on his skin. Jared clung to his shirt, falling. Adrian's tongue traced his lips. Jared gasped, opened for him. Nothing else. Only heat. Breath. The pounding in his chest.
When Adrian pulled back, they were both breathing heavily. He leaned his forehead against Jared's. Eyes still closed, he asked, "Are you alright?"
He didn't know what he was feeling. A shaky laugh. Everything inside tumbling, breaking apart. "God, I don't know. But I want this," he whispered, eyes closed, still clutching Adrian's shirt.
Enough. Adrian's eyes opened, a small smile on his mouth. Hands sliding down Jared's neck to his shoulders. Pressing, gentle, urging him back against the couch. Jared let himself be moved. More things fell to the floor, but neither of them paid attention to that.
Hands at his hips, sliding him to the edge of the couch. Adrian settled between his legs. Pressure: solid, real. Even through clothing, the hard ridge of Adrian's erection answered his own. That proof was a different kind of reassurance.
Adrian kissed him again. Harder. Claiming. Hands wandering, searching through fabric, finding every place that made him shiver. Jared's arms around Adrian's neck, face pressed to his shoulder. The sounds escaping him were shameful, unstoppable.
Fingers found Adrian's braid. He'd always wanted this. Elastic pulled free, hair falling loose around Adrian's face. Fingertips sliding through strands, marveling at the way it shone against pale skin.
Adrian pulled him close. Face pressed into Adrian's hair. Cheap shampoo. Antiseptic. Adrian. He smiled. Home.
Adrian's fingers made quick work of the buttons. Shirt falling away. Hands sliding over the thin undershirt, then pulling it up. Jared leaned back, arms raised, letting Adrian strip him bare. Adrian pressed him back into the couch.
Adrian lowered his head. Mouth trailing kisses, bites down Jared's neck. Hair brushing skin, a whisper. Adrian bit harder at his clavicle. Jared moaned, head falling back. Hands tangled in Adrian's hair. Adrian kept biting. Pleasure coiling low, sharp, bright.
Clinging to Adrian's shirt. Eyes squeezed shut. The noises kept coming. Lost, unmoored. Adrian's touch stripped away his control, left him raw.
Adrian's hand slid down. Fingers working the belt, the button, the zipper. Each sound impossibily loud. He didn't rush. Palm pressed against him, firm, steady. Jared bucked up, helpless.
“Please,” Jared gasped, the word a broken thing. He pressed his hand against his mouth as if he could hold his desperation in.
Adrian took Jared's hand and pulled it away from his face. He kissed the inner wrist, then moved up the arm. Jared looked away, closing his eyes. Then Adrian bit him. Jared moaned.
Fingers hooked in the waistband, pulling everything down in one motion. Hips lifted, skin exposed to the cool air.
He looked up. Adrian stared down, want burning in his eyes. Almost too much. Hands pressed to Adrian's chest, eyes closed.
"So perfect," Adrian breathed. Hand wrapped around him, firm. Jared moaned, covering his mouth. Adrian's thumb smeared the wetness at the tip, then stroked him, slow, deliberate.
Hips jerked up, helpless.
Adrian’s other hand slid up his thigh, cupping briefly, then gliding up his stomach. Skin smooth, hairless. Adrian lingered there.
Adrian leaned down, breath ghosting over him. "I've wanted this," he murmured. The words, the heat, made him shudder.
Then his mouth was on him.
A moan. Heat, wet, and perfect, overwhelming. Adrian didn't tease. Took him deep, swallowed him whole. One hand gripped his hip, holding him still. Mouth moving fast, sucking hard.
Babbled, words lost, fingers tangled tight in Adrian's hair. Tension coiling in his gut, building, threatening to break.
Adrian pulled off, breath ragged. Kissed him, hard, letting him taste himself. Hand kept moving, faster, relentless.
“Come for me, Jared,” he commanded against his lips, his voice a low, gritty thing that vibrated through Jared’s very soul. “Let me see you.”
The command broke him. He arched, silent, as orgasm tore through. White-hot, blinding. Pleasure radiating out, sharp, endless. Body shuddering, spent, as Adrian worked him through every last pulse.
Tremors faded. He collapsed into the cushions, chest heaving. Adrian watched, eyes dark, hungry. Fingers to his mouth, licking them clean, never looking away.
Nothing more erotic than this.
Adrian stood, fluid, effortless. He watched, still gasping. Adrian, a dark silhouette against city light.
Hands at his belt, unbuckling slow. Metal clasp echoing in the quiet. Adrian's gaze never left him. A challenge. A question. He couldn't look away.
Fingers slipped under the waistband. Fabric sliding down his hips, pooling at his feet. Shirt followed, unbuttoned, peeled away. Muscle, dusted with dark hair, revealed. Only the line of his boxers left.
Breath caught. Adrian: all strength and control, every line of his body carved with purpose. Broad shoulders. Thick arms. Long legs. He felt small beside him.
Adrian stood before him, with only boxers left. Erection straining against fabric. He gripped himself, stroking through the cloth, his hips moving slowly. Eyes never leaving Jared’s.
Jared pushed up, limbs heavy, clumsy. Needed to touch, to close the distance. Stumbled forward, arms around Adrian's waist, face pressed to warm skin.
Fabric pushed aside, knuckles brushing hot skin. Freed him, stroking with both hands. The weight, the heat, the reality. Mind blank. Adrian, hard and alive in his grasp. A moan.
A guttural sound tore from Adrian. Eyes squeezed shut, head thrown back. Control shattered. Hips thrust, helpless, into his hands.
“Jared,” His name was a ragged gasp.
Grip tightened, learning the rhythm, the pressure. Watching Adrian's face, every touch written there. Power. New. Unfamiliar.
“Tell me what you want,” Jared whispered, his voice rough.
Adrian’s eyes opened, dark and blown wide with need. "I want to be inside you," he whispered.
The words cut through, landing deep. A small sound, excitement, and fear tangled together. The fight, the analysis, the need for control: bleeding out in a shuddering sigh. Grip loosening. Leaning into Adrian, letting go.
"Okay," he breathed. Not just agreement. Surrender.
Adrian's eyes darkened, reading the change. Touch shifting, hunger turning slow, devastating. Kissed him again, slower, deeper, searching. One hand sliding from jaw to throat, pausing over the frantic pulse, then resting over his heart.
“Let go,” Adrian murmured against his lips, his thumb pressing down gently. “I’ve got you.”
And he did.
He surrendered. Head falling back, spine arching, throat bared. The world narrowed to this: Adrian's weight, his scent, the heat of his hands. Every nerve ending alive, singing. The walls he'd built crumbled, and he let them fall.
He let go.
A shudder tore through, violent enough to break him apart. Adrian's hands anchoring him, everywhere. Mouth on his neck, teeth on his shoulder, breath hot in his ear.
“The bed,” Jared managed to gasp, the words torn from somewhere deep. “Please.”
Adrian didn't hesitate. One arm around his back, the other under his knees, lifting him easily. The hallway to the guest bedroom stretched out, air thick between them. Adrian didn't set him down. He fell with him, the bed creaking under their weight.
Adrian's gaze asked. He answered with a desperate arch of his hips.
That was all it took.
Adrian's control shattered. He moved. A cry, the sound lost in Adrian's mouth. Too much. Everything. The world dissolving into white-hot static. No past. No future. Only now. Skin, breath, the creak of the bed.
Hands scrambling, nails digging into Adrian's back. Murmured nonsense. Pleas, curses, Adrian's name. A broken litany.
Adrian’s own rhythm faltered, his body tensing above Jared’s. His eyes squeezed shut, a low groan tearing from his throat. “Jared.”
His name, raw and bare, the trigger. The coil snapped. Pleasure, sharp as pain, erupting. Wave after wave, pulling him under. Adrian followed, a final shudder, heat spilling between them.
Aftermath. Slow, quiet. Frantic energy fading, leaving only warmth. Adrian collapsed onto him, heavy, real, stealing his breath. Face buried in his neck, breath ragged and hot.
Tangled in silence, light flickering over their bodies. The world seeping back in. Hum of machines. Scent of sex. Cold air on hot skin.
Adrian shifted, rolling to his side, arm still heavy across his waist. Looking down, expression lost in shadow. Fingers brushing hair from his forehead. The touch was gentle. Reverent.
