Mirage

Chapter Nineteen

Ryder wasn't a stranger to rough sex, but nobody had rougher sex than Whisper. The world was spinning, and he was on the verge of blacking out yet again. He couldn't tell which direction he was facing or where in Whisper's house he was. Time had become meaningless.

Tears stained his cheeks as he sobbed, riding a high of adrenaline that had him shaking like a leaf. Whisper was gently coaxing him down even as he roughly rearranged Ryder's insides. The world spun away from him again as the pleasure and pain reached a high that had him screaming until his throat was raw then the darkness found him again. 

When Ryder came too again, he was nestled in Whisper's bed, tucked up against the other man. If he'd been sore the previous day, it was much worse now. Even the smallest movement made him grit his teeth and tears filled his eyes. 

Whisper's scent, a combination of cigarettes, metal and leather wafted through the air. Ryder opened his eyes slowly and the sight of the taller man's naked body greeted him. His tattoos swirled up both arms and across his chest, highlighting a nice set of abs and covering old scars.

The tattoos made the bruises less obvious. 

Ryder sucked in a deep breath, his eyes going a little wide. Whisper seemed to be in bad shape. He had more than one multicolored bruise on his face, neck and torso. And he had more than one set of bruises that looked like fingerprints on his shoulders, arms and back. A few scratches and small cuts littered his arms, and he had a few on his left cheek. 

 It smelled like sex, sweat and blood and it nearly overpowered Ryder as he slowly and carefully sat up. 

"Fuck!" Ryder swore vehemently as pain erupted through him. His ass was sore. Despite the pain he was in his head was clearer than it had been in months. His throat burned and prickled uncomfortably, and the curse came out much quieter and hoarser than he'd been expecting.  

Whisper had woken at Ryder's movements and now a lazy hand drifted to the smaller man's waist. His grip tightened possessively. He let out a contented hum before sitting up and giving Ryder a once over. 

If Whisper looked bad, Ryder looked worse. His neck was almost an entire solid bruise, and he had a nasty looking head injury that what every shade of purple, blue and green and the skin had broken open. His torso was covered in bruises, and he had bite marks on his shoulders and one on his left arm. Despite the bruises he didn't have a single scratch or cut on him. 

"Mm~" Whisper let out a contented hum, pleased with his handiwork. That smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth. His yellow eyes danced with happiness. 

"Don't move, pet." Whisper murmured in his soft, raspy voice. Ryder wasn't going to protest the order and he laid back down, grimacing as he moved. Whisper got out of bed then came back with a med kit. 

He sat down on the bed and began ripping open Ad-packs and plastering the bandages onto Ryder's skin. As the cool patches hit his skin, Ryder let out a sigh of relief. They immediately took effect and in seconds the pain from his bruises were fading. He watched quietly as the bruises themselves began to fade. 

"Roll over," Whisper said and Ryder quietly obeyed, stifling a groan. He caught the sight of blood in the sheets, and he sucked in a deep breath, his eyes going wide with surprise again. The blood had been from him, at least the blood he was looking at. 

The silence stretched between them as Whisper quietly finished patching him up. The tension was palpable, and Ryder stayed silent as he waited for the patches to finish their work. Whisper was now applying Ad-patches to himself. 

Ryder sat up, testing his body. The pain had almost disappeared completely.

"Just so we're clear this was a onetime thing. We're not a couple or anything." Ryder said quietly, resting his head on his knee. A low hum emanated from Whisper's throat and his yellow eyes found Ryder's.  

"Of course," Whisper let out a noise of disgust, clearly repulsed by the idea of actually dating Ryder. The tension that had hovered between the two of them dissipated almost instantly. Ryder let out a sigh of relief. 

"Where are my clothes? Why did you toss them out?" Ryder groaned quietly, letting his normal composure slip. His voice sounded whiney and a little childish. Whisper tsked at him then got up and tossed him a set of clothes from his closet. 

"Keep them, you ugly piece of trash." Whisper sneered, clearly irritated by Ryder's tone. Ryder caught the clothes and cackled, amused by Whisper's retort. He wasn't too offput by the taller man's response. Those yellow eyes had suddenly gone very soft as he'd tossed the clothes to Ryder. For a moment, they'd looked like rays of sunlight. 

"What makes you think i'd want your clothes, asshole?" Ryder shot back as he tugged them on. Whisper chuckled as he walked out of the room, the medkit under his arm. Ryder heard the quiet, raspy laugh follow him. 

He bent over to grab his weapons. He strapped them on, glancing over into the hallway as Whisper exited the bathroom and then moved into the kitchen. Ryder stepped out of the bedroom and his eyes went a little wide. Memories of the last time he'd hooked up with Whisper came crashing back as he took in the scene.

It was like a violent tornado had gone through the rest of the house. Furniture was askew, there were droplets of blood on the floors and walls.  A bookshelf in the living room had been tipped over. One of his knives lay in the hallway, flecked with blood. There was an entire human shaped dent in the wall. 

Ryder risked a glance into the kitchen. It was in worse shape than the rest of the house. There was blood on the counter, the table was tipped over and chairs were scattered across the floor. Clothes were haphazardly tossed about. A cupboard was ajar and hanging oddly. There were even a few droplets of blood on the ceiling. 

Whisper smiled at Ryder as the shorter man passed him. The grin was feral and unhinged. He was still smiling as his gaze assessed the damage. 

Ryder quietly left Whisper's place, grateful that for once his head was filled with something other than the dead child he'd failed to save. Instead, the images of the night before tumbled through his mind.

The sky was gray and the air cool. The Mill sprawled out around him, a cluster of houses and metalwork, playing children and substantially less adults. A few Crow members lurked, keeping a watchful eye on the children making sure they weren't about to tumble off the edge.

His messaging alert system went off and he flicked open his holo-system. Panther had sent him a message.