Page 61 of Drift

He’d read Cal’s file on how the Islamic State in Khorasan had been damn smart. Like the US until recently, colleges and universities hadn’t been classified as potential chemical facilities, so went under the search radar of any allied force. A few obscure universities had been taken over, and their labs used for storage. That’s when chlorine trifluoride started tomake an appearance in territory fights. Cal had gotten hold of a sample, and over the next few weeks, Light would be working with his team to find a way to neutralise it.

And Simon… he was getting nowhere near that shit.

“You pulled your big-boy boots on and call Cal just to get his backing on that?” Light tossed back the bed covers. “Or did you only need Gray’s?”

Simon shook his head. “None needed off anyone but me. I decide who goes where and when. I’m lead officer.”

“Yeah.” Light got in and lay down, turning his back. Again. “Have another staff meeting with yourself and cancel both of our flights in a few weeks, then. I can’t have you fucking up around chlorine tri—” Fuck. He stopped that there. He was too used to talking with Simon, not hiding basic fucking facts that were there to keep them both sane.

Quiet settled in the bedroom, then a mug was laid to rest on the bedside unit before Simon came in close under the covers, shaping him from behind, and he was pulled back into him.

“So that’s what he’s got you neutralising.” A hard sigh came, and Simon’s breath brushed Light’s ear before he shifted and pulled Light onto his back. He settled in at his side again a moment later.

Simon watched him for a moment, then reached over and switched the soft nightlight off. It left them in darkness, only Simon’s touch along his jaw and pressure off his body giving him a physical presence.

“Talk.” It came so quietly. “And I mean like the lad who needed to stay safe here with family, even if it had to come on the back of an apology to Gray in order to do it.”

Light frowned, and he was damn glad only darkness saw it. Talking always came easier in the darkness of a bedroom. He lied there. Talking only came easier in the darkness of the bedroomwithSimon. Here there was a taste of honesty, how Simon almost didn’t seem to want to leave. Almost.

He needed the offer of almost because anything else left him shaking and sick without him. “The chemical that always burns, Si…”

A thumb brushed at his lips, then a kiss ghosted them a moment later. “Still can’t say Brin’s name despite him being on your mind the past week, can you?”

Light went to pull away. “He wasn’t on my fucking mind. Not fully.” And he hated how time took thought on Brin away from him.

“Hey.” Simon cupped his neck, stopping him from moving. “I know. I can see that.” He stroked lightly at his throat. “You choose to face something like that and it goes wrong, we burn together, okay? Because I know that’s where your head’s going.” A longer stroke came along his jaw. “I see it, y’know. How aggressively you take each offer that comes your way from Cal and Interpol.” A frown. “How it’s not about dying with you but running into the fire first so you’re not the one left behind to live. You think living would be any easier for me if I lost you?”

Death brought ashes, an end, but left alone to live?

Frowning, Light traced lightly under Simon’s eye, all the colours he pictured playing there in the darkness. Each one called out he condemned Simon to be the one left behind in the hell. Sometimes Light didn’t see things, not the wider emotional field, but he had over this. Maybe it would always be his flaw, because he’d damn well killed Brin and Lee over it. In the end, heknew he deserved the condemnation. Simon didn’t, not to be the one left to live here, alone.

“Yeah. We go together or not at all,” Simon said softly. “But make the choice and be honest with yourself over why, at least with me, in this bed. You don’t need to explain to anyone beyond these four walls what’s in your head. I’m here to do that.”

Light steadied his breathing, needing it. “We both don’t go,” he said eventually. “You—”

Simon shook his head, and another kiss brushed his lips. “Try again. Be straight with me over what’s gotyouscared and pushing me away.”

Light frowned, then eventually rested Simon’s head against his. “It’s such a dangerous compound, Si. I mean nothing like I’ve handled before, certainly not away from the safety of a lab. I can’t concentrate properly with you around me. My fault, not yours. So…” A frown. “So I’ll work neutralising it here, but we both don’t go and test it in the field because I’m not ready to face the burn if a fight breaks out. Not with this, not with you in the mix and me losing you.”

A long slow sigh came off Simon, then a touch traced down Light’s side, to his hip… his clothed cock. “Now that…” A kiss touched Light’s lips. “That’s you learning how to be a lover.”

Light roughed up the kiss, made it his. “Prove it.” He needed it more than he wanted to admit. Bodies could talk better together more than he could at times, and he trusted Simon’s response. Simon’s body was his even if keeping his mind challenged was so damn hard. He needed more in order to keep them together, Light knew that. But trust was too damn low with those around them both. Light couldn’t let go of that just like he couldn’t let go of Simon, so fucking hard became their language into hearts andheads, at least for him anyway. But darkness helped too. He’d learned that over the past few years through Simon’s way with turning off the light to talk. Darkness didn’t condemn.

Or maybe it was just Simon who didn’t.

Light just needed this: for life to stay calm for a little while longer with Simon, no explosive chemicals or wildcards thrown into the mix.

Chapter 19

JUDE

Coming to a dead stop in the lamplit darkness, Drift wiped at his nose as he caught the Scottish symbol sprayed on one of the bins in Gerrald Street.

Fuck. Stokesy.

He’d recognise Stokesy’s graffiti anywhere, and Drift looked around the shoppers. Sat on the outskirts of Soho to the north and west, Theatreland to the south and east, Gerrard Street claimed the rights to being Chinatown’s main high street in London, packed with everything from the Korean Barbeque to Dim Sum. It set Drift’s stomach rumbling, but he took the hint and followed the markings that called out Stokesy needed a quiet word.

Keeping his head down, covered with the loose hood of his hoodie as he dodged shoppers, Drift crossed the road, wearing his skull scarf up over his nose to defend against the bitter cold. A whistle came from a dark alcove, and Drift made his way through the crowds of people over to a shadowed spot most walkers passed by without a second glance.

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