Monster [m/m]

Chapter One

"—and if you look over here, you'll see the last message left by the campers." Aiden picks his way across the uneven ground and stop next to the unevenly scratched words that are barely legible. The small group of tourists stare gape-mouthed and fascinated, and one kid wanders over, squinting at it.

"Why's it say that?"

it's real

He shrugs, glancing across the cave where the ceiling dips and no light can creep. Far away, he hears the dripping of water. "No one knows. But it confirms that there's something down here." Aiden allows a smirk to creep across his lips, watching the shiver of fear that ripples through the group. It's easy to play groups like this.

"Now, if you come over here..." He goes further into the cave, ducking when it narrows, and stops next to piece of wall that curves into a dark alcove. Although it's apparently been years, the floor stills bears the rusty bloodstains, smears and splatters and desperate handprints.

When his flashlight illuminates the mess, one of the older women lets out a little shriek of surprise, which echoes and rings in Aiden's ears. He manages to keep from scowling as he gestures at the Bloody Alcove. "They say that the rangers here have been trying for years to wash the blood away, but it never fades." A quick scan to confirm their captive attention, before grinning wide and sudden. "But the best part..."

Now it's hands and knees across the stone, until they can see around a rough corner. Licking his dry lips, Aiden points his flashlight forward, savouring the fear that wells up in the group. Thick and heady.

Up ahead, where the ceiling dips low and across a wide crevasse, lies a mangled hiking boot.

"There wasn't much left when the police got down here, but that boot is the one thing they've never been able to get." Aiden's grin widens with anticipation. "It's too narrow for...humans." It's only lots of practise that keeps the laughter from his voice.

He begins turning around to crawl back, when suddenly, a long, loud squeal echoes through the cave, like a nail against a chalkboard. Everyone freezes, deathly silent, before the group breaks out into terrified exclamations. Grimacing, Aiden shakes himself and forces a laugh.

"Nothing to worry about, folks." He continues crawling forward, before the ceiling rises enough for him to get to his feet. The group follows him frantically, huddling around. With a last glance at the narrow passage, Aiden turns around and leads them back to the ladder, adding, "Although...today is the anniversary of the deaths of the hikers." His grin turns wicked. "And the Ghost is said to enjoy returning every year to the scene of its slaughter."

It's difficult to keep from breaking into laughter as the tourists practically run for the ladder and begin scrambling up. But Aiden can't help but feel the tiniest bit uneasy—he's never heard that noise before.

***

"Y'know our job's a load of bull, yeah?" Aiden drawls, before taking another swig of his beer. It's bitter on his tongue, but goes down smooth. "It's fuckin' awesome we get paid to lead a bunch of gullible idiots around."

Angelique rolls her eyes, sucking the BBQ sauce from her fingers. "If you don't believe in this shit, why do you do it?"

Aiden smirks, peering at her over his glass. "Cuz it's easy? Pay's good?" Leaning back, he signals the waiter for another round, before snagging the last chicken wing from the basket in the middle of the table. "You don't actually believe it, do you?"

"'Course I do." Her mouth twists. "It's creepy as hell down there; something's got to have happened." She jabs Aiden in the chest, eyebrow raised. "I mean, just look at that boot."

He can't help but snicker at that. "Man, that boot gets 'em every time."

"A little kid tried to grab it today," Angelique says, manicured hands curling around her beer glass. "Nearly got stuck."

Snorting, Aiden tosses the chicken bone into the basket. "Should've let him. Teach 'im not to be such a moron."

"You really are an asshole, aren't you?"

Aiden raises his glass with a wink and a grin, before draining it. Clunking it down on the table, he licks his lips, and drawls, "You know it, babe."

"You ever gonna do anything else, or are you already living the dream?" She smirks, eyes crinkled, and stifles a laugh with her glass.

Aiden rolls his eyes in response, glancing to the side when a fresh pint is delivered at his elbow. Angelique grins at the one set in front of her, and she cheerfully thanks the waiter. Aiden watches him walk away—tall, kinda gangly, but a tight round ass and big hands. Yeah, he'd make a decent fuck.

"So?" Angelique prods, and it takes him a second to remember what she asked.

"It's good for now. If I get bored, I'll find something new."

"Big dreams," she drawls, earning a grin.

"I already did the school thing, so I deserve something fun, y'know? And there's nothing more fun than wrapping someone around your finger and scaring the fuck outta them."

Angelique shakes her head, expression almost awed. "You're one sick bastard, Aiden, that's for sure." She made quick work of her newest pint, before stretching, standing, and dropping money on the table. "I'm off, kid. You good to make it home?"

Aiden waves her off, cold beer sliding down his throat. He's got a pleasant buzz going, maybe more, and he feels fuckin' fine.

Angelique squeezes his shoulder as she passes, and Aiden slowly drink the rest of my beer. He should probably head home soon, get some sleep.

Another half hour creeps by before Aiden finally digs out a couple bills and puts them on top of Angelique's. He stands up, blinking away dizziness, and heads out the door. The air's warm and filled with loud voices and music, clumps of people wandering past. Aiden hums under my breath, feeling light as he winds around the groups. Yeah, it's a good night.

Aiden turns down a quieter street, stretching his arms above his head. Not many people down this way, but Aiden doesn't mind that much. The noise was starting to hurt his head, anyway. But there is someone...

A smirk appears on Aiden's face, and he slows down a bit. Hard to see his face in this light, but Aiden doesn't care much. He likes the way the man moves, although he doesn't let it show on his face. The man's eyes gleam in the glow of a streetlight, sweeping up and down Aiden's body. He meets the man's gaze for a moment, before looking away, chin tilting up.

I'm too good for you.

But Aiden rolls his shoulders back, putting a bit more sway into his step, the slightest heat in his second glance. Yeah, he's looking at Aiden, hunger in his eyes, and fuck, does that feel good. Aiden passes close, arms brushing, but shock fills him when he's suddenly grabbed and slammed against the hard brick wall. Aiden's mind reels, and then something's poking his neck, something sharp.

"Don't fucking scream or nothin'," a harsh voice hisses in Aiden's ear, "or I'll slice you like a pig."

Aiden's breath hitches, body shuddering when a rough hand shoves into his pocket and drags out his wallet. Fear chokes him, sharp through his drunk haze, and his groin tightens, breaths shallow. The mugger reaches for Aiden's other pocket, hand brushing against his growing erection. Aiden lets out a desperate whimper, and the mugger jumps back with a curse.

"What the hell? Fuckin' freak."

Footsteps pound the pavement, while Aiden remains pressed against the wall, panting and shaking. Adrenaline pulses through him, making his head reel. His cock aches.

Sharp gasp, fumble in his pocket, phone. Trembling fingers manage to navigate contacts, and then it's ringing.

"lo?"

"I'm coming over," Aiden rasps, biting hard on his lip. "Leave the door open."

"Aiden, wha—"

He hangs up and shoves the phone back in his pocket, before pushing away from the wall. He practically runs all the way to Eric's apartment, thankfully only a block over. He lives in some trendy loft, all brick and steel. It's ugly as fuck, but practically soundproof, and by the time Aiden gets up there, it's a fuckin' good thing.

The door's open, and he shoves inside, instantly spotting Eric in the kitchen with a mug of coffee. Mussed from sleep and wearing low slung pyjama pants, showing sharp hips and a trail of hair. He turns around, and Aiden lunges forward, mouth catching his in a hard, deep kiss. Eric breaks off with a gasp, grabbing Aiden's shoulders.

"Seriously, what the fu—"

"You ever mug somebody?"

And Eric stares at him, mouth gaping. "What? No! Why the hell—"

Aiden presses forward, grinding hips together and pressing his mouth to Eric's ear. "I want you to mug me, 'kay?"

And Eric stops asking questions, because he knows. Before Aiden can take another breath, Eric spins him around shoves him against the wall, twisting his arm behind his back.

"Hand everything over," Eric growls, jerking Aiden's arm up.

Aiden's breath leaves him in an excited exhale, fingers flexing and clenching. "I don't have anything," he groans, legs spreading slightly.

"Don't believe you," Eric murmurs, hand tightening around Aiden's wrist. "You trying to get me to hurt you?"

Trembling, Aiden whimpers, "Don't hurt me." His eyes flutter shut, and his back arches. Eric's hard already, harder still when Aiden grinds back against his groin, and murmurs, "I'll do anything."

"Should we go to my bed? This position's kinda awkward."

And just like that, Aiden's adrenaline begins to ebb. "This is fine." He presses harder against Eric "You're supposed to be mugging me."

"Well, yeah, but—"

Aiden groans, head falling forward. "Fine, just fuck me already."

They don't end up in the bed, after Aiden stubbornly bends over the table. Eric's too nice with him, preps too much, never gives him the pain he wants. It feels good, sure, and his hips buck and roll with each thrust, but it's not enough.

He almost wishes that mugger had wanted more than his wallet.