Neon is the Colour of Vengeance (Flappers and False Gods)

THE BUBBLE

The next morning, Evan luxuriated on the living room sofa as Hugo answered calls and did whatever hitmen did when they weren’t out killing. He had a serious set to his shoulders whenever Evan caught sight of him, which Evan took as a sign he wasn’t to be bothered.

He felt like a gangster’s moll as he lounged around the apartment and was surprised to find that he didn’t mind. The trip to the clinic had reignited his love of surgery and he would have to ask Hugo to take him again or maybe let him go alone soon, but for now he was happy just to vegetate.

When Hugo finally wrapped up his business and dropped onto the couch beside him with a sigh, it was well into the afternoon. Though they had gotten up late, Hugo looked tired or perhaps worried. He didn’t look at Evan, he just lifted the other man’s legs so that he could slide underneath them.

Evan watched Hugo for a moment, unembarrassedly taking in his profile. Hugo was undeniably handsome, with his prominent cheekbones and dark brows. He hadn’t bothered to shave that morning and as such had a five o’clock shadow that was steadily turning into stubble. Evan liked it.

“You’re staring,” Hugo said without looking up from the document he was reading using his Index. He had projected it in the air in front of him not troubling to hide it from Evan.

“I’m ogling, it’s less creepy.”

“Next, you’ll be watching me sleep.” The corner of Hugo’s mouth twitched as if he was fighting back a smile.

“You’re handsome even in your sleep.”

“Are you coming onto me?”

Evan removed his legs from Hugo’s lap and turned to replace them with his head. He wasn’t sure how, in such a short space of time, they had managed to develop such a comfortable rapport, but he enjoyed it immensely.

“I was actually thinking about the clinic.”

“Hhm?” Hugo stroked his hair gently.

“I missed surgery. I’d like to go back, if that’s okay. If you think that would be safe.”

“I volunteer a couple times a week usually. I’ve been slacking because,” Hugo waived his hand in the air indicating everything they had been through of late, “but I’d like to get back to it and I’d really like you to come with me.”

Evan smiled warmly up at Hugo. “Do you know what Umbilicoplasty is?”

“Not a clue.” Hugo shook his head.

“Belly button plastic surgery.”

“Huh. You ever do one?”

“I’m a trauma surgeon. That’s a no,” he added when Hugo raised a quizzical eyebrow.

“Hit me with another one.” He dismissed the report to give Evan his full attention.

“Whipple?”

“You made that up.”

“I did not. Pancreaticoduodenectomy is the full name.”

“Pancreas…ectomy? Removing the pancreas?”

Evan nodded, pleased. “Debridement?”

“Surgery to remove foreign bodies like dirt or damaged tissue, right? I’ve helped the doc with a couple of those.”

“You hiding a black-market medical degree somewhere?”

Hugo laughed softly and leaned down to kiss Evan. His lips were gentle and left Evan wanting more. “You have no idea what these hands are capable of.”

“Show me.”

“I thought you weren’t hitting on me.”

“I am now.”

Hugo grasped the front of Evan’s sweater pulling him closer to gaining better access to his mouth. The kiss was passionate, filled with a fervour that bordered on desperation, as their lips slid together in a heady rhythm.

“Straddle me,” Hugo demanded against his lips, frustrated by the awkwardness of their current position. Evan was more than happy to comply. As he slid easily into Hugo’s lap, Hugo wrapped his arms around him and held him close. His teeth found Evan’s bottom lip before his tongue pushed its way inside his mouth. Evan was certain he would never get tired of this. He crushed their bodies together, seeking that delicious friction that was almost enough to send them both over the edge.

A flicker of blue across Hugo’s pale grey irises told Evan that a call had come in through his Cicada.

“You going to answer that?” Evan asked, as Hugo dragged his hands down Evan’s back eliciting a groan.

Hugo touched his hand to his ear. “Ford,” he said breathlessly, his lips still pressed against Evan’s. He continued to kiss Evan as if he planned to devour him, all the while muttering affirmatives blandly to whomever spoke in his ear.

“Of course I’m listening, B,” Hugo said, breaking the kiss to pull Evan’s sweater over his head. He rejoined their lips the moment he had tossed the fabric aside, before moving down to plant rough kisses along Evan’s jawline. Evan clamped a hand over his own mouth to muffle the groan that escaped him, fearing it would be heard over the open line.

“Uh-huh,” Hugo muttered as he licked and sucked his way across Evan’s chest. “Not tonight. I’m busy.”

Impulsively, Evan slipped one of his hands into Hugo’s hair and pulled. Hugo groaned with pleasure.

“Yes, I’m that kind of busy.” He paused to reach down and undo the button at the top of Evan’s slacks. “Does it matter who?”

It was Evan’s turn to tease Hugo. The man’s eyes danced with a fire that Evan hoped would burn them both to the ground as his fingers found the buttons on Hugo’s waistcoat. He strained to undo them and then that of the shirt underneath in his need to touch Hugo’s skin. Evan dropped his head to kiss every scar that was revealed. Hugo watched him transfixed as if he couldn’t understand how he had gotten so lucky. It made Evan feel invincible, like he could do anything.

“Yes, I’m still here,” Hugo muttered distractedly. He closed his eyes and bit his lip to stop himself from making a sound as Evan’s hand delved underneath his waistband and into his boxers.

“What?” Hugo’s voice lost its dreamy quality at once. His hand snapped to Evan’s wrist, holding it in place to stop any further exploration below the belt. “You are really jonesing to ruin my day, huh?” There was a pause where Hugo looked at Evan, the desire in his eyes replaced with obvious regret. “I’m on my way.”

“Oh, come on, you can’t be serious.”

“A guy’s gotta eat.” Hugo leaned forward and kissed him again; this time it was languid as if he was savouring the taste. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be long and then we can pick up where we left off?”

“Go before I tie you down to keep you here.” Evan got petulantly to his feet allowing Hugo to stand.

“Promises, promises,” he said with a grin as he righted his clothing. With a final peck on the lips Hugo was gone, leaving Evan standing half-dressed and frustrated in the middle of the living room.

Evan spent the remainder of the afternoon and well into the evening impatiently waiting for Hugo to return so they could finish what they started. He occupied himself with fantasies about the things they were going to do to each other and had every intention of relaying them to Hugo in great detail.

The delightful little bubble he had cultivated burst as soon as Hugo arrived home. He was dripping with blood, some of it his, some of it not.

“Christ!” Evan shrieked when he saw him. “What happened?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Hugo grunted. He looked exhausted as he weaved towards what had become their bedroom.

“Are you all right?”

“I will be once I’m clean,” Hugo said, disappearing into the bathroom.

Evan followed after him not at all mollified by his vague answers.

“Is watching me shower a new kink of yours?” The comment was half-hearted at best. It had none of Hugo’s usual wit or fire.

Evan watched, tight lipped, as Hugo shrugged out of his clothes, moving gingerly as if in pain. Evan pressed his fingers to his mouth as he saw the bruises and slashes across Hugo’s ribs. There was a bruise purpling on the centre of his chest that looked alarmingly like a boot print.

Hugo let out a long sigh as he stepped under the shower’s warm spray.

“You shouldn’t get those wet. You might need stitches.” Evan leaned on the sink opposite, his concern for Hugo growing.

“They’re shallow,” he said, dipping his head down to allow the water to cascade over his back.

“Talk to me,” Evan said quietly, his voice low and even.

“You know where I’ve been and what I’ve done. What use is talking about it?”

“Talk to me anyway. Tell me about it. Please.” Evan wasn’t sure why he was so desperate to know. Perhaps he wanted to see how far his own tolerance could be pushed.

“It wasn’t supposed to be a hit. Some punks from a nothing family took one of our guys hostage. It was a rescue mission. Turns out that was a trap. It was a hit after all, but it was on me. Some of the Kelly boys have gone rogue again. Someone will really need to talk to old Dill about that.” He leaned against the tile, sagging as if the weight of standing was too much. He’d had to fight for his life. Evan could imagine the toll that would take physically and mentally.

“And then?”

“I killed them all.” Hugo’s eyes, usually so pale they were almost white, seemed black for a moment.

“You were fighting for your life.” Evan wasn’t sure who he was trying to convince.

“When I killed the first five, I was. The other three were just for good measure.”

Evan went cold. The man who was rapidly becoming the most important thing in his life had taken eight lives. Murdered eight people. Bereaved eight families. And that was just in the last few hours.

“At some point you’re gonna see it. The problem. That is if you haven’t already.”

“I don’t care about the things you’ve done.”

“Then why are you shaking?”

“I—”

“You wanna touch me now? Hold me? Kiss me? Feel me inside of you?” Hugo let himself slump to the bottom of the shower, resting his forearms on his bent knees. “I know I’m supposed to care, but I just don’t. I can feel empathy. I want to help people. But when I kill…there’s nothing.”

“I want you anyway.” It was the truth. The thought of the things Hugo had done made Evan sick and yet it wasn’t enough to make him leave. He knew that should worry him and he would need to examine it later at length, but all he wanted to do was take Hugo in his arms.

“I don’t want to change you. I don’t want to drag you down into the darkness with me.”

Hugo looked up at Evan, sincerity shining on his tired features. Evan slipped off his shoes and stepped into the shower cubicle. The water was almost scalding. He turned the temperature down ever so slightly, then sat beside Hugo, letting the water soak his clothes. He put an arm around Hugo, who leaned into him as if on instinct. He didn’t seem upset; just exhausted. Evan held him anyway.

He couldn’t think of any words to say. He did want Hugo, but he couldn’t pretend he was okay with the things Hugo did, or that those things would at some point in the near future, push them apart. That time didn’t have to be today, though.

“There were police at your building,” Hugo said after a long pause.

“What?” Evan said in surprise, lifting his cheek from where it was rested on the top of Hugo’s head.

“Some of your friends have left tributes. Flowers, pictures. We need to get your Cicada changed. As long as your old one is still transmitting…”

“If we change it, I’m really dead, aren’t I?” It appeared Evan had made his peace with losing his old life somewhere in his time with Hugo, because to his surprise, it seemed like a sensible step. Nothing more.

“Are you okay?”

“It’s not fair to keep them hanging on. To give them false hope. I need to move on and so do they. But how do we do it? I can’t wander into a vendor.”

“I know someone. We’ll go tomorrow.”

They left the shower not long after and crawled into bed. Hugo fell asleep almost immediately. Dreams refused to claim Evan as he rested his head on Hugo’s stomach. He gazed at the hand that rested on Hugo’s hip. It was entirely clean, but the pale skin on the knuckles was marked with bruises. Evan wished he could say that it repulsed him, but in truth he was already longing for the morning where those hands would grasp at him in greeting.