Man on the Inside

28

Neil knows, logically, that this is not the world's smartest decision.

Artemy Volkov, the criminal he's been chasing for months, was undercover as, essentially, his only friend. Artemy Volkov, the criminal he's been chasing for months, now claims to be in love with him. Artemy Volkov is sitting on Neil's lap, arms around his neck, and Neil's kissing him back, hungrier than the first two times. He's picking him up, to a surprised sound and a little giggle, and carrying him into the bedroom.

This is about the dumbest thing Neil's ever done.

He just quit his job for, primarily, the criminal mastermind who's been playing him. The criminal mastermind who's smart enough, experienced enough, to have set all this up for some goal Neil could never, ever fathom, because he cannot play chess far enough ahead to even know the endings this game could possibly have. The criminal mastermind whose shirt he's unbuttoning with shaking hands, as fast as he can, because it's unbearable to have it on a moment longer.

"We've got time," Neil purrs to the man who lied to him for months. "Quite honestly, we've got days."

Art bites his lip. "I don't have days worth of patience. Come here."

Neil leans over the man he can never trust fully again. Or can he? He could choose to. How tempting it is, when he's looking up at Neil like that.

"What was your plan if I caught you?" Neil asks, as he kisses at Art's throat. His tone is playful. "What were you going to do if the cop did win?"

"Depends." Art succeeds in pulling Neil's shirt over his head, running his fingers over Neil's back, making him shiver. "As Nimm? Told you the truth. Trusted that you were the good person I knew you were. As Art, if it turned out you really were just a cop?"

Art grabs at Neil's belt, pulling him down by the hips. "I reckon I could've seduced you out of the handcuffs."

"Mmm." Neil nips at his ear. "Were you secretly hoping for the handcuffs?"

Art laughs lowly, a sound that goes straight through Neil's body like a shot. "Maybe I'd prefer you in handcuffs."

Neil knows he feels something about that. If it's the idea, or just Art's voice, there's no way to know, especially when the second is definitely at least part of it. "I've never thought of it that way before."

"You've thought of it before?" The mischief in Art's voice is not just endearing, but intoxicating, and Neil is fucked, because even if this is all a game, Art won long ago. Art won when he sat next to Neil in a bar. Art won when he picked up evidence he'd planted and convinced Neil that he had to be the one to follow up on it.

Neil runs his fingers over Art's ribs and grins against his neck. "We can take turns."

"Go on, then." Art's been disguising his gorgeous, husky voice for months in order to pass as someone who never existed. If he tried, he could remind Neil so easily why Neil shouldn't be doing this. He won't, because he wants it as badly as Neil does- as badly as Neil knows he shouldn't. "Tell me what you were thinking."

"I've had mere days where I've accepted how fucking badly I want you, and a lot of it's been flashbacks. Don't expect me to have detailed fantasies laid out for you."

"Not even a little one?" Art pulls Neil's face to his. His eyes are beautiful, like if every star in the sky was so bright it tore the night apart. He tears Neil apart. "You didn't once think of what you'd do to me if you had me tied up, waiting for the cops to come? If you were driving back down from Canberra with me, arrested, in the back seat, and you could stop the car in the middle of the night on the side of the street..."