We Are Bulletproof

Ow ow ow, hot hot HOT!

Scy juggled the thermos as he spilled a little bit of soup onto the back of his hand, trying not to upend the entire thing onto his kitchen floor--or over his own body. He quickly put the thermos down and ran his smarting hand under some cold water, while uttering a (tame) curse under his breath. It really wasn't like him to be this distracted but he had good reason to be, after talking with Ember.

Finding out that his boyfriend was a drug dealer and manufacturer was sort of a big deal. Ember had no reason to lie to him about it; it wasn't like he was fighting for Scy's heart. More like he never lost it.

Scy had to admit that when Ember disappeared off the face of the planet a year ago, it stung. He thought that he'd been abandoned, and that the steady progression of their relationship towards something serious had scared Ember off. So he turned to another man, trying to fill the gaps and holes in his broken heart, in case Ember never came back.

For a while, he was happy. He thought he was happy. Sure, he and Ams had their ups and downs, but he cared about Ams and Ams seemed to care about him. Granted, being a drug dealer didn't mean that Ams was incapable of falling in love or of caring for another person. But Scy couldn't see him in the same light after all that he'd learned. He still needed to hear more from Ember to confirm his suspicions, but he had to admit that it wasn't looking good for them--for himself and Ams, that was.

For himself and Ember... Wellll... there was that saying about first loves, and how one never got over them. Not really. Not when that first love came back into town and accidentally dialed him up. Of course, Ember might have contacted him sooner, but it sounded like he'd been through a lot and Scy, being the bleeding heart that he was, couldn't find it in himself to hold a grudge. Everyone made mistakes, after all.

He dried his hand on a hand towel and returned to the thermos to fill it up. It had potatoes and leeks in it, a thick and savory soup that he remembered Ember being particularly fond of. Scy packed it away, along with a good-sized chunk of crusty French bread, and then headed out the door. Luckily, Ams was out for the day. Scy wondered if he was out making drugs and the thought in and of itself made him feel... saddened, really. Betrayed. Lost. Were there signs all along, that he turned a blind eye to? Or was it impossible to truly know someone, even after having been with them for the better part of a year?

On the bus, Scy settled back in his seat with a long sigh. He wished that someone could tell him how to feel right now. About Ams. About Ember. About his pulse racing every time he thought about what Ember said--that he was the only one Ember could ever love. That... was pretty significant. Maybe Ember was right, in that they'd never broken up, and that technically they were still together. Were they, though? Together? Would anything change, with an entire year separating them?

Scy rubbed the bridge of his nose absently, lost in thought as the bus trundled towards the downtown area. He already knew in his heart of hearts that there was no contest. Given the choice between Ember and Ams, he would easily choose the former over the latter. Even if Ams hadn't turned out to be a drug dealer and awful evil wizard (he grimaced at himself, and such a childish turn of phrase), he would still have drifted back to Ember. Love worked like that; it wasn't rational or kind at all sometimes.

Ember also needed him, and Scy needed to be needed. It gave him purpose, a greater calling, to take care of others. People called him selfless, but really, he thought that it was just the opposite. He was pretty selfish too, in his own way. Scy looked gloomily down at the thermos and tightened the cap of it. Was it silly to hope that things could go back to the way they were, before Ember went off in search of... whatever it was that he sought? Power? Almost none of it made sense to Scy but he tried to understand. It was something Ember needed to do. Without him.

The bus rolled itself into the downtown area and past the tall, newly renovated apartment buildings clustered together. Scy quickly pulled the cord and jumped off the bus, then sped toward one of the buildings. He couldn't help the way that his pulse quickened, or that his mouth suddenly felt dry. He even got a bit dizzy, as he entered the lobby, although that could have been just excitement. Lots of excitement. Lots of that, and adrenaline, and a mixture of hope and anticipation and nervousness. The butterflies were in a frenzy in the pit of his stomach as he got up the elevator, and he had to try really hard not to start hyperventilating as he got up to the door.

Self-consciously, Scy smoothed his sweater and brushed fingers through his hair. He rapped with the knuckles of his free hand, and without realizing it, held his breath as he waited.

Trash Bat Estember Calderon 

What were the chances? Ember didn't believe in coincidences. Fate connected him to Scyon Kan. For sure, it had connected them that night. Why his number? Why did he pick up? It happened for a reason and Ember hoped it was for a good one. The cynical side of him--the side that endured far too much during his trials and tribulations in the past year without Scy--said that there was no way fate could be so kind after the rough treatment it had pulled him through already.

But maybe this was the treat at the end of the stick. It could be a trap. It could just be motivation. Heh. Well, it was damn good motivation. Part of Ember knew that he should keep Scy out of his life, that he should have played dumb or aloof to protect Ember but he was damned selfish, too. Ember would never love anybody else again, of this he was certain. It wasn't because this was his first love, either. It was more the emptiness that was slowly numbing his heart. Where Ember used to feel, there was now an indifferent hole. Scy, though. Scy could fill it. Nobody else could do it.

Ember perched in his computer chair, absently staring at the screen in front of him. Scy's name wasn't there for the breach call. Neither was Amory Nova's. It was probably some throwaway name Nova had given somebody. Why he had the gall to connect it to his so-called boyfriend's number, Ember didn't know. He hoped Scy wasn't being used as a scapegoat. There was so much Scy needed to know about the Nova family. Surely he'd see that Ember wasn't trying to split them up out of jealousy but concern.

Maybe. No, he was sure Scy would know. He'd understand. He'd always been a sweetheart and maybe a little too gullible but this wasn't about trickery.

Ember ran his hand over his shoulder and rolled his neck back to relieve some pressure. He should probably get up. He didn't know how far Scy was but he'd be here eventually. Ember actually was wearing a pair of grey sweats but that was it and he could be a brat and answer the door in just that. He could be--he smirked at the thought--but he'd go easy on poor Scy for now. Getting up, he grabbed a t-shirt from his bureau and pulled it on over his head. Smoothing his hair into something resembling style, he ambled into the front room.

Should he get something out? Food? Drinks? Scy was bringing soup. That was pretty much both things rolled into one. So Ember set himself down on the couch cross-legged and he waited with bated breath. When the knock finally came, he nearly jumped straight out of his skin. Then he nearly flipped himself end over end in his eagerness to get up from his awkward position. Eventually, he made it to his feet and managed to get to the front door. Cool as a cucumber, he opened it and smiled his best smile.

"Scy~" he sang. "So good to see you again."

And indeed, it was. Scy looked... good. Memories were nice but they were never anything close to the real thing. They didn't make the heart jolt the way it did when Ember saw HIM in person. They paled against the stark contrast of reality. Although it had been about a year, Ember felt starved for Scy's attention, so he reached out and drew him into a tight embrace. If something made him disappear in this moment, he was damn well taking his Scy with him.

Scy could have done that too--stand in the doorway all nonchalant, with a smooth line ready to go. Something cool and suave. But he wasn't really that type. Any ideas he may have had for a triumphant entrance was blown to bits once the door opened and Ember stood in the doorway, with a cool and suave line of his own.

"H-i." It took an amazing amount of effort to spit out the one word, as Scy stood awkwardly in the hallway, staring at Ember. There was no other appropriate word for it, either. He stared. The last time he saw Ember was a year ago, and then... never again. Seeing him now, in the flesh, was like a miracle. A dream. Scy would have pinched himself, if Ember hadn't come at him first and grabbed him in a tight hug.

Sure beat a pinch on the arm.

Mechanically, Scy's free arm lifted to return the hug. He dropped the bag with the thermos of soup and the bread in it and his other arm joined the first, hugging Ember fiercely and just as tightly. "Hi," he whispered again, breathless and elated. This was almost too good to be true. Almost. Ember felt real, though, and he was warm and solid and there. This wasn't like all those nights, when he'd dream about Ember coming back, only to wake up to cold sheets and disappointment.

"Hi." He laughed a little, deliriously, at his own stupidity. Didn't he know any other words besides "hi"? His mind was blank. Scy buried his face into Ember's shoulder and took a long, deep breath. It felt like the breath of life; every part of him was thrumming and singing and buzzing with excitement.

"It's really you..."

Dreams and figments of memories were nothing in the face of reality. A pleasurable reality for once. Ember hadn't shared all that he had been through since going through with that ritual and what it meant but there would be time enough for that. Ember felt as if he had too much time--as long as he remained useful to the Forgotten--and Scy... Well, Scy was beside him now. Rather, he was pressed against him in a tight hug.

Ember didn't want to let go of him. God, he was so warm and he smelled so good. Clean. Pure. Funny because he didn't look that way at first sight. People assumed there was a bad guy lurking under the leather and the tattoos, the dark eye makeup. But Ember knew. He was so different from the perception people built of him and that was part of his appeal, part of what attracted Ember.

He needed this. He needed his dark looking angel back in his life. More than he realized, actually, until he was right there. For once, he could swear he felt again and that in itself was intoxicating. Lately, he felt as if his emotions had been dampening over time and he worried it had something to do with the "price" he was meant to pay for the gifts he received. Later, though. Later he would tell Scy about it. At the moment, he was just too ecstatic to have him back.

"In the flesh," he said as he tilted his head so that he could brush his head against the head that rested on his shoulder. Lightly, he rocked Scy back and forth. Usually, that kind of hug was reserved for people in tears or in grief or something but right now, it was out of pure affection. Ember couldn't quite erase his fond smile. He reached up to filter his fingers through Scy's dark hair.

"I never thought I'd see you again," he murmured, almost inaudibly before he kissed Scy on the side of the head.

Between the two of them, Ember looked the part of the angel, fair-haired and blue-eyed and pale-skinned. The smile that curved on his lips lit Scy up from the inside. They might not have looked like they belonged together, but that was the beauty of fate. No one could say for certain what attracted two people, and what made up the chemistry that sparked between them.

Scy pulled away to look at Ember, hardly able to stop himself from grinning like it was going out of style. He felt like a kid with his first crush, bursting with too much emotion. His hands slid up to cradle Ember's face and he leaned in. It was wrong—he hadn't properly broken up with Ams yet—but Scy couldn't stop himself. He couldn't stop his heart from beating too fast, or make himself feel any less strongly towards Ember.

Whatever drove Ember to leave didn't matter in that moment. All that mattered was that he was back again, and that he hadn't forgotten Scy. Ember still wanted him; he wanted Ember, too. Scy clutched at him so hard that he stumbled forward a small step. Somewhere behind him, a door opened and Scy's eyes flew open, too. Ah—right. He was still half outside in the hallway, where anyone could see him.

Sheepishly, he edged inside and toed the door closed behind him. Once they were hidden from view, he felt a little bolder. "I thought you were going to just wear these..." he grinned, reaching down to jiggle the pocket of Ember's sweatpants.

That was his soft, affectionate Scy to the core. No matter what people thought or said behind his back, Ember knew the truth. Somehow, he'd always known the truth. Funny how it worked with them, the darker of the pair being so innocent and naive in his way and the fairer being the sardonic punk with a bit of an attitude problem. Ember was never an angel, despite appearances although once he wasn't a devil, either. Now, he couldn't be sure.

That would come in due time. Right now, he just wanted to be in the moment. The warmth, the safety, the feeling of being loved and... the feeling of caring for--loving--somebody else. He thought it was disappearing but with Scy close and stumbling into him and smiling at him, he felt so much more human. Much more like himself and less like a tool for darkness.

Slyly, Ember looked down at his t-shirt and the sweatpants. His smile was lazy as he slid his hands down Scy's waist.

"I was..." he admitted, him impish smile growing. "But I didn't want to get you too excited too fast." He winked as he drew Scy closer and further inside. The door was already closed behind them but they still weren't quite close enough. His gaze searched Scy's for a long moment and he wanted to say it--what was on the tip of his tongue. I can't believe you're here. Scy was breaking all kinds of self-imposed moral rules of conduct just by being here and this close. The Scy Ember knew would never cheat but... They all had that Person, didn't they?

So he didn't say it. Instead, he did what he'd been thinking about doing the moment he saw that familiar face in his doorway. He tugged Scy in closer and he kissed him. Not a peck on the lips, either. A proper kiss. A kiss from lover to lover, from lovers that had been pulled apart by circumstance but couldn't seem to stay apart.

Ams didn't deserve this, even if he wasn't what he pretended to be. The guilt gnawing at Scy, just at the back of his mind, proved that he wasn't completely amoral but even so... Even despite his feelings for Ams, this trumped everything. Ember was more important than anything and anyone else.

Ember was everything. Before he left, while he was gone and now, with his return, he was everything to Scy. He was that one in a million, once in a lifetime, love at first sight. That wasn't much of an exaggeration; Scy was pretty sure that he knew Ember was the one from the first words they exchanged.

He wasn't crazy, though. It wasn't like he was obsessive about Ember, or that he stalked Ember everywhere for weeks. He was certain and confident in what they had. He knew his own feelings were valid and it didn't take a genius to figure out that Ember reciprocated. In fact, he said as much—that Scy would be the only men he ever loved. That was enough to quell the feeling of guilt rising up inside, and push it far back and deep down, out of the way.

Scy returned the kiss eagerly, no longer shy now that they were all alone. Arguably, Scy had never been shy. He was quiet and he was different; people misinterpreted that as either shyness or hostility but it was neither. Most of the time it wasn't worth the trouble to engage and anyway, when they were together, it was usually Ember drawing the ire of those around them.

They really couldn't have been more different as people but when they were like this, things fell into place. Scy pulled away briefly, letting out a soft, pleased sigh. He smiled, keeping his eyes closed as if he could preserve the moment and stop time if he just kept the light out. "...I thought you didn't want me getting too excited," he murmured as his forehead touched Ember's.

Funny how two people so completely different could still connect on a level as deep as they did. Ember could still remember first laying eyes on Scy and maybe it was his witch's intuition but he knew there was a connection there. It was the same as one might find with a familiar or a soulmate. Maybe they were the latter to one another. Ember hadn't been waiting all his life for Scy--he'd lived a pretty full social life beforehand. There were guys before Scy but they were never anything more than casual flings. Ember sort of developed a reputation as the guy who would "love them and leave them" because of that.

Ember wasn't exactly known for his loyalty. And he was sharp, ambitious, looking for his place in a world where he never felt like Estember was enough. Scy never made him feel like he wasn't enough, though. Right now, he made him feel much more than that and Ember was desperate--yes, desperate--to hold onto that feeling. Emotions weren't as strong as they once were and Ember used to be a highly emotional person, whether they were good ones or bad ones.

Sometimes he felt like everything had been twisted inside, like he'd broken an essential part of himself in order to have the power he craved. He thought for certain it was what he wanted out of life. That he'd finally show everybody who doubted him and looked down on him. When he saw Scy there in his doorway, though, he began to doubt himself.

Maybe he had been pursuing the wrong thing. Maybe he had been running after something when he should have appreciated what was in front of him. The Forgotten--truly The Forgotten was cruel--and Ember was a fool for going through the ritual.

But it already happened and in this very moment, he was staring at Scy's beautiful smile and his closed eyes and his dark lashes and the line of his cheek and his jaw. Hands around Scy's waist drew him closer, body to body.

"I take it back," he murmured, "I was mistaken."

Scy still couldn't believe all of it—that there were wizards and witches. That the people around him weren't what he thought they were. That Ember, Ams, and God knew who else, were... magical. That things could happen to souls, which he always thought was some religious construct or ideal.

And yet, he had been confronted by too much to fully doubt it all, either. The incident in the suite downstairs and all of those tiny inklings that he'd been having about Ams all made too much sense. That was the troubling part; that his own normal world didn't make sense. That he was living the lie, thinking that all there were in this world were plain old humans.

The only thing grounding him was Ember's voice and the warmth of his hands and body. Scy opened his eyes to that all-too-familiar face, to beautiful blue eyes. Were eyes really windows to the soul? Then when he stared into them, should he have seen... something fractured? Something broken?

All he saw was love, though. Affection. Truth. Scy bit his lower lip gently, trying to persuade his head to go along with his heart and body. "Ember... I..." What should he say? What should he do? His hands tightened in the back of Ember's shirt. "I'm doing the right thing... right?"

"Yes," he said without hesitation and not just because he was being selfish (although that was part of it). Ember felt a sort of desperation in Scy, too. Not just the tone of his voice--asking him to justify what he was doing now--but the way his hands tightened and balled up part of Ember's shirt. It was impossible not to notice. The t-shirt was thin and Ember was extra conscious of every place where their bodies touched and aligned.

Gently, he nuzzled Scy, his eyes closing and his lips brushing against soft lips and trailing up Scy's cheek. One hand left Scy's waist to cradle his lover's face. There was nothing wrong with Scy's choice. Amory Nova was bad for Scy. Worse than Ember. The choices weren't great, admittedly, but Amory Nova...

Scy didn't even want to think about that degenerate but there was so much his naive Scyon didn't know. Because if he knew, there was no way he would have stuck around. Amory Nova had a reputation in certain circles. Magic circles, though. Criminal circles. Circles that Scy wasn't a part of, not even peripherally. At least, not until he got himself involved with Amory Nova. Now he was in the middle of that drama. But it was okay.

"I have the power to help you now," he assured Scy as he caressed his face. "I'll make sure nothing happens to you."

"Power..." Scy repeated softly, almost to himself. Ember now had the power to help him, where before he didn't. But that didn't wholly make sense either, because Scy didn't need, want or love Ember for his power. He loved Ember for Ember—for the sarcasm, the biting, sharp intelligence, the rebellious streak. They were black and white, light and dark. Their jagged edges fit together. Ember never needed to prove himself to Scy; he never needed power to impress Scy.

But it wasn't Scy that Ember wanted to impress, that much was obvious. If it was just Scy, things could have been simpler. Ember needed never have left. There were other people that Ember sought this power for—Scy just wasn't aware of who they were.

"I know you'll protect me," he said slowly, leaning into Ember's hand. His own hands relaxed and smoothed out over Ember's back, holding him close and also protectively. Scy wanted to protect Ember, too. He didn't know how to do it when the enemy wasn't a human being, though. His doubts, his fears, his insecurities, those weren't physical things.

"Who are you, Ember? What... what's a wizard? What do they—you do?" Or how? Scy didn't want to ruin the moment but he had too many questions that needed to be answered right now.

Power. That word again. Ember had to wonder what Scy thought of it, since he kept echoing it. Power. Power for what, he probably wanted to know. What made confident, cocky, self-assured Ember feel the need to chase power? If only Scy knew. At the same time, Ember wasn't sure he wanted him to.

But of course, he had to ask. He had to know. And if he'd been anybody else, it would have been easy to make a snappy remark and get him off his back. But it was Scy, wasn't it? And Scy deserved the truth. He came here for him when he didn't have to. Ember was more than well aware of that fact and he had to keep him. He had to. Scy was the only link left to anything resembling humanity for him.

"I'm Estember Calderon, the only witch in a family full of witches who couldn't access any kind of magic. So what did I do?" He let out a bitter scoff of a laugh and turned his gaze away. "Nothing. My father made it very clear there was no room in the Calderon family for a witch without magic."

Scy wasn't ambitious the way that Ember was. He had never been an over-achiever, although in his own way, he got things done. Power and fame and the adulation of his peers was never important to him. That didn't mean that he didn't understand where Ember was coming from. People used to say that Scy's main selling point, and also his one weakness, was that he understood. He tolerated things that some would have walked away from, realizing that not all flaws could be accepted.

As Ember went on to explain, his expression softened. Saddened, he nodded. Ember wasn't born this way—nobody was. He was shaped from the disappointment of his father and the intolerance of his high-born, over-achieving family. The amount of pressure on him to be someone must have been immense.

But didn't it speak to Ember's strength that he got to where he was today, without the aid of his prestigious family? Scy saw it that way—maybe Ember saw differently. Ember had something to prove to them.

"You're so mch more than just a witch, though." There was more to him than magical powers, wasn't there? Scy pulled him back in for a hug, lips pressing to Ember's cheek gently. "They didn't know what a wonderful person you'd become." And how sorry they would be, if they only knew the Ember Calderon that Scy had grown to know and love.

With a constant chip on his shoulder, Ember had to prove himself to anybody he met. Somehow, he never had to do that with Scy. He just seemed to embrace him for the person he already was. That didn't mean that Ember didn't try and impress him at first but he quickly realized it wasn't necessary and wasn't it nice to just relax and be with somebody? Whole or broken, Scy took him as he was. He didn't even know about the magic bullshit and Ember was relieved about that, too. There was absolutely no judgment but the more he learned about Scy, the more he knew that he never would have judged him even if he knew.

And look at him now. No judgment in his tone nor in his eyes. Ember didn't deserve him but he still had him and he wanted to hold onto that. Scy brought out a better side to him. He wondered if Scy even realized that. Did he do the same for Amory Nova? Could there be real feelings there? Maybe from Amory Nova. Definitely from Scy. But... he liked to think such feelings were much stronger for him. Scy was here with him, after all.

"Not sure wonderful's the word for it." Most people found him pretty insufferable. Too sharp, too sarcastic. There was some part of him that was a defeatist, too, despite his ambitions. He was self-deprecating but he was cocky as hell which didn't come across as genuine so much as... well, an asshole, he was pretty sure. But when he was just himself, when he was honest and he and Scy were sitting together in a quiet room, he was just... Ember. A person with insecurities and flaws like anybody else but a deep love for his lover's voice, a penchant for collecting so-called healing crystals, a secret weakness for stupid rom-coms, and a weird obsession with his hair.

"But you're right. I'm more than a witch now." He was something more dangerous and something less human. He didn't want to explain that part to Scy, though. Instead, he turned his head so they were facing each other. His hand slid to Scy's chin and he kissed him, the sort of kiss that melted into a second kiss and a third.

"Well, I like you," said Scy without pretense, despite Ember's obvious lack of faith in his own better qualities. It wasn't always easy to find the good in people but with Ember, that wasn't difficult. It wasn't easy, but it wasn't a chore. The way that he opened up to Scy spoke volumes about him.

Maybe there were trust issues there but not between them. Once hurt, it became less and less easy to trust again but Scy didn't think that people ever gave up that desire to want to trust. They just had to find the right person, that one to coax them out into the open again. Even Scy sometimes found himself hesitant to fully open up to others—even he had been hurt in the past. But he hadn't closed himself off completely and luckily, neither had Ember.

There was something in Ember's tone that unsettled Scy, when he declared that he was more than a witch. He had power now. No time to dwell on it, though, when the kisses were coming in fast. Maybe this discussion wasn't made for right this moment. There was a time and a place for everything, after all.

Scy moved them further into the apartment, despite not knowing where he was headed. Bedroom maybe. He was fairly vanilla when it came to sex, but being with Ams did have one benefit—it drew him out of his comfort zone long enough to appreciate the racier side of being intimate.

"That's all that matters..."

Nobody else had to like him. Even the family he'd been trying so hard to impress. At this point, he hated them and wanted them to pay for making him feel like nothing for most of his life. They didn't need to like him; he'd settle for them fearing him or being in awe of his newfound power. But like? Love? He didn't need that from them.

Oh, Scy. He was actually maneuvering them further into the apartment. Interesting. And it seemed like he knew where he was going to, despite not having a magical bone in his body. Of course, it was a fairly generic apartment with a generic layout. Still, he smiled after another kiss and he slid his hand into one of Scy's hands.

"You sure you haven't been here before?" he asked as he led the rest of the way into his bedroom.

"I've been inside apartments before, if that's what you're asking," Scy replied with a laugh, holding tightly onto Ember's hand as they slipped down the hall. In an apartment this size, it wasn't difficult to guess that the lone hallway leading out of the living room connected to a bedroom!

It did cement their fate, however, to be headed there. Scy spared one last thought for Ams—a silent apology. The magnitude of his crime, in this moment, and that of Ams' deception may or may not have been on the same level, but it was too late to change his mind now. If he didn't hang on to Ember, Ember might slip away again.

Scy didn't think he could live through another year of not knowing.

So he let Ember take him to the bedroom and he closed the door behind them, sealing them in. "I love you, Ember."

"I love you, too."

How fortunate their fates to bring them together by chance. Ember wondered if it was partly the Forgotten's doing. The thought was a sour one; he didn't want interference from the Forgotten. He preferred the romanticism of chance, that of all the numbers he called, it was Scy's that he caught.

Pulling him closer to the bed, Ember kissed Scy again. He slipped his hands beneath his shirt, making quick work of discarding the clothing. He silently said goodbye to the rest in succession until they were both in a state of undress. It had been too long since he saw the art that made Scy's body. Not just the literal art in regards to his tattoos, but the unique lines of muscles and limbs.

He crashed into the bed with Scy's hand in his, rolling over to straddle him and pepper him with kisses and dextrous caresses. It had been far too long. It felt like it really had been a full lifetime between the last time he saw Scy and this. This moment. If he could stop time, he thought this was the moment he would have done it, to preserve that look in Scy's eyes forever.

Something might have happened to Ember's soul in his attempt to gain power, but nothing had happened to Scy's. He could make up for what Ember lacked, in the same way that Ember always made up for what he lacked. This was no different. They complemented one another in the most wonderful way and it was only highlighted by the way that their bodies moved together, as one.

This was what they meant by growing together—that their individual changes, the ways that their thoughts and opinions shifted, were because they influenced one another as they evolved. Scy liked to think that they made each other better. Not always—not all the time, that was impossible—but on the whole, they made each other whole.

There was nothing but trust in Scy's gaze. Trust and love, returning the two greatest lessons that Ember taught him. Scy had no idea where this would lead them, but he hoped for better for the both of them. Things could finally return to normal. He smiled into the kisses, the sighs, the loving and eager touches. Even when the sensations reached a fevered pitch, when breath was short and hands reached in desperation, he still smiled.

Everything was better when Ember was with him; that hadn't changed in the least. Love wasn't something so easily forgotten, and God willing, they would never have to be apart again.

Odd. No Scy when he came home. Nothing but vague responses on his phone when asked where he was. At first, Amory didn't think much of it but there was an odd sort of feeling, a gut feeling that something was off. Looking around the apartment, Amory checked under the floorboards for the prystal he kept there. It appeared untouched and the spell on the floorboard was intact. Scy hadn't found anything he wasn't supposed to. Amory made sure to change dangerous items into innocent ones so he could hide things in plain sight. So far, so good.

"Kingsley..." Amory reached out to allow the rat to jump onto his hand and up his arm. With his other hand, he gently stroked the soft fur of his familiar. Then he exerted a scrying spell on him. Amory had learned how to scry early on and it was as simple as walking, talking, eating. Natural. A natural skill learned in childhood. Then he told Kingsley to find Scy. Kingsley knew exactly what Scy's scent was so Amory had little doubt that his familiar would find him.

In the meantime, Amory picked up his phone. Sitting down, he tried him again, all the while watching Kingsley zipping through the town, on a clear path somewhere.

He had to go home some time.

As much as Scy tried to avoid taking the bus back home and as much as he loitered around Ember's apartment, the sad truth was that if he didn't go home, he would only be prolonging his own suffering. The sometimes-stilted exchanges with Ams, coupled with his vague and evasive responses about where he was, was a far cry from Scy's usual messages.

Dragging his feet off the bus and into the building, Scy tried to remember what he'd been rehearsing on the way home. Things about secrets. Things about living a double life. About not knowing his own lover. About... the cheating. Yes, he had to go ahead and admit to that, even if it would have been so much easier to gloss over it. Well, Scy was no hypocrite, much to his own chagrin.

The thing was, though, that he didn't hate Ams. He did still love him. Just... not as much as he loved Ember. And as easy as it was to envision himself slotting perfectly back into Ember's life, it was equally easy to leave Ams'. That pretty much said it all, he supposed. Where his feelings were concerned, Scy had no doubts about what—and whom—he wanted.

He hesitated again at the door but forced himself to open it, confronted with the entryway that he knew so well. The little stand for their keys. The pairs of shoes, neatly aligned. Scy's heart felt heavy as he toed off his shoes and slipped his keys onto the stand, and then made his way inside.

"Ams?" He set down his coat over the back of the couch. "I'm back!"

Something happened. Something big. Something that changed Scy's mind about him.

Kinglsey wasn't much help in this department because by the time he found Scy, he was already heading toward their apartment--but where was he coming from? The area was somewhat familiar--not a great part of town. He had clients there. Had Scy met one of them? Had they said something? How would they even know? The Amory that Scy knew was nothing like the one that hid deep inside. Even when he was selling, he acted as a dealer, not a manufacturer. He acted like he knew nothing. And he thought he'd been good at it, too.

Now he wondered.

Who said something? Scy wouldn't just believe anybody. He must have seen something. A video, perhaps? Another magic user might have shown him something. The not knowing killed Amory because he could sense what was coming and he knew it wasn't something good.

Scyon Kan was coming over to break up with him. Why? Was it the way he behaved in the bedroom? Had it scared him away too far? Amory's hands formed into fists and he stared out the window and down the street. Waiting. Waiting too long. Where was he now? Kingsley had followed him but he was already back, having passed him up at some point. The rat was already safely tucked away in his cage, innocently sleeping like "pet" rats did.

He can't leave me. It was one thing for Amory to drop Scy but it was another for him to be the one dropped. He had his pride, after all. But he also had his cover and he didn't know how to handle this. He'd never been placed in this position before. In the past, he'd only had hard lovers and he assumed before he really got to know Scy that he was one of those people. Somehow, he'd become genuinely attached to him. It was all so... so...

He narrowed his eyes because his heart skipped a beat at the sound of Scy's voice and then it plunged down to his toes. He left the bedroom window and peeked out, down the hall. Take him out now, while you have the element of surprise. All he had to do was kill him from the dark hallway. Instead, he was Amory the dopey potato as he entered the living room and regarded Scy with fingers twisting around one another.

While Scy looked normal, his text messages had not sounded a bit normal. So Amory watched him for clues while smiling as if he knew nothing, even coming over to embrace him and kiss his throat.

"Baby, are you okay?" he asked. "You've been acting weird today."

Scy's heart skipped a beat too, when he heard Ams' voice, but it wasn't a joyful beat. It wasn't the kind of tumbling, turning sensation that he once felt—back when they first began to date. The feelings had dampened over time but learning about Ams' past—and present activities—threw ice all over him.

He honestly didn't know how to reconcile the two Amory Novas. The one loving, caring and mild-mannered and the other, a ruthless drug dealer and manufacturer. If anyone but Ember had told Scy, he would have laughed. Not the Amory Nova that he knew. Not the sweet man who came towards him now, smiling like an angel, lips soft against his throat.

Scy swallowed; his throat was so tight with emotion and dread and apprehension and most of all, disappointment. He was disappointed in himself as much as he was in Ams at that moment. This wasn't him. But Ams also wasn't Ams, either.

"Hi..." He smiled, a subdued smile. His hand caressed the curve of Ams' elbow absently but his upper body eased back and away—conflicting signals, surely. "I'm okay. I just... I need to tell you something."

Where did he begin, though? Scy looked around—all around them at the innocent apartment. Ember told him that things could be hiding in plain sight. Witches, they had that power to conceal. What was real, then? Were they ever real? The feelings and the affection and the love, was any of that ever true?

"...I know about the-about prystal."

"Oh?" He waited, his gaze remaining fixed on Scy while he surveyed their apartment. What was he looking for? It didn't matter; there was nothing incriminating within sight. Amory had nothing to feel guilty about. All he had to feel right now was worried about what was going through Scy's mind. Carefully, he scrutinized him, his gaze still on him when the word prystal passed Scy's lips.

Shit.

The small, gentle smile on Amory's face remained as he tilted his head slightly. Yes, he was going to play dumb for as long as possible because he needed to know how the hell Scy found out.

"Where did you hear a word like that?" he asked, almost as if amused by such a silly thing.

"That doesn't matter." Scy pulled away completely and sought a place to escape to. He settled on the couch and took a seat on the arm rest, facing Ams. While Ams smiled like nothing happened, looking blameless and harmless, Scy couldn't keep the doubt from showing on his face.

"I know it's a drug. And that you make it."

Crafted through magic and made specifically to target humans, it was an epidemic sweeping through Hazleton. Scy heard vague reports on the news but no one had evidence pointing to any one group. Gangsters? There were a few of those drifting in and out. Vagrants? They had more than their fair share.

Witches, though, were difficult to pin down. Vampires—no one could prove that without sounding like they were insane. But Scy's eyes were opened now to the truth and with Ember's explanations, everything just made sense.

Somebody must have tried to buy it from him, Amory decided. Then when Scy inevitably asked about it, that person then told him all about what Amory did. The question was why Scy believed them. Or did he? Amory was sure he saw a flicker of doubt in Scy's gaze. As long as Amory didn't do something stupid and break character, he could probably convince Scy that what he'd heard was only hearsay and slander.

"Do you really believe I make drugs?" Amory asked with a hopeful little smile. "Me? I can't even cook properly half the time. I know you didn't forget about that."

He drew closer to Scy and he reached out to trace the line of his brow with his fingertips. His voice grew even softer. "I wouldn't even know where to hide something like that from you."

Scy had been looking around. Surely he noticed the absence of anything that looked even vaguely like drugs.

"I know. I know you can't cook," Scy said sadly, recalling the disastrous attempts at cooking. There was a lot of laughter involved—before Scy's eyebrows were singed. Even then, he didn't really hold it against Ams, despite the fuss he made afterwards. Ams couldn't be blamed when he was so helpless, so innocent.

Except. He wasn't. Sometimes, rarely, Scy caught glimpses of a different person. He always dismissed it as his own imagination. He was misconstruing that hard look as anger. It was a trick of the light. Ams wouldn't have that look in his eyes. Not sweet, docile, well-mannered Amory Nova.

Who could be that sweet, that docile and that well-mannered all the time, though? He was almost too good to be true. Their life together was almost too perfect and Scy understood better than anyone that there was no such thing as perfection.

"It's okay, if you don't want to admit it, Ams. I can't claim to understand why you do what you do, but... I'm sure you have your reasons."

Why would Amory need to do something like this? For money? Or for... power? Scy looked down. Would Amory do it for power, the same way that Ember disappeared? Was that why he felt the need to harm so many people with this prystal drug?

Why was Scy so adamant that what he'd heard was true? Amory had to weigh his options, whether to continue to play innocent or to give into the truth. The problem was that Amory didn't want to let go of his current persona. It worked so well for him, especially with Scy. Why wasn't it working now? Amory dropped his hands and used them to hug himself instead. Slowly, he turned away from Scy. No, he wasn't ready to let go of the persona and he wouldn't, not unless Scy had real and actual proof. Irrefutable proof.

"I really don't understand why you think I'd do something like that."

His mind still reeled, searching for every last move he made, any mistake he made that Scy caught onto. There was that strangeness in their neighbors' place. Was that where he'd learned of it? From another witch in the building? Amory still remembered the ingredients. He knew a witch's cabinet when he saw one. Scy didn't, though. And even if he did, Amory still made sure to cover his tracks. So where was this information coming from? Without coming across too aggressive, he wanted more information.

"What kind of drug is it, even?"

Well that made two of them, who didn't understand why Ams needed to do a thing like this. Scy didn't feel good about confronting him or making these kinds of accusations, but it was already all out there. He didn't know how he felt about the fact that Ams was continuing to play dumb, though. True, Scy had no solid proof—no video tapes of Ams handing over drugs to some junkie on a street corner. But he had Ember's word, and he trusted that.

"It's like any drug," he sighed heavily. "It makes people addicted. It offers them an escape from their current reality." Just like any drug, no matter what the name was, Prystal took away the sadness, the pain, the loneliness. But it was temporary; its effects wore off. It wasn't a real solution for any of the problems that people sought an escape from.

Scy looked up at Ams, at his posture and his sweet face. His lips twitched. Trembled slightly with the words at the tip of his tongue. He swallowed. "I'm... leaving you." Drugs or no drugs, Scy's mind was made up. His destiny led down another path and whether or not his star was a doomed one, he was bound to follow it.

Where was this coming from? Amory had little doubt that Scy had come across something damning because he was so sure of himself. He might not have pulled out text lists or the actual drug but whatever source he had must have been awfully reliable to him. Had he witnessed it? One didn't have to record it to see it with their own two eyes. But to know what it was called and that it was magic... Scy must have done some investigating to get that information. How? Was he hanging around other witches? Amory's competition?

The other shoe fell but Amory had been expecting it since he received those strange texts from Scy. He was leaving him. Just like that. He was leaving him over the drugs? Or the magic? Which was it? Scy couldn't handle the criminal activity while looking just like one himself? Or he couldn't handle the supernatural? Or maybe it was Amory himself, although Amory had done such a good job of disguising his true self from him.

Amory's gaze moved over Scy, meeting his gaze in a much more steady way than usual, eyes dark, mouth a thin line.

"And I have no say?"

It was that look—the dark look in Ams' eyes that sowed the first seed of doubt. Scy did a good job covering them up by lying to himself, but he knew that something wasn't quite right. Maybe it was the magic; there was something buzzing and humming in the air in their sleepy, tiny little town. There was always the feeling that maybe things weren't wrong. but they weren't quite right either.

Scy shook his head slowly, watching the way that Ams' mouth flattened into a thin line. He was angry. Undoubtedly so and for good reason. "I'm sorry Ams." Words were cheap and his apologies probably didn't make up for the fact that he was suddenly leaving. Scy's chest panged. He hesitantly reached out; his fingertips brushed the side of Ams' arm lightly.

At the very least, Ams deserved the truth. If nothing else, he deserved that.

"There's someone else..."

If it weren't for years of being a nice, timid guy, Amory would have shrugged Scy's hand off his arm. How... cute. Trying to placate him with his soft tone and his comforting hand. But that wouldn't work even on an actual nice guy. It would just twist their little heart and break it into pieces, especially when followed up with there's somebody else. Fury burned somewhere in the pit of Amory's stomach. Scy, of all people, was cheating on him? How long? Who had turned in his head? Scy was supposed to be the nice guy. He was different, he wasn't the person Amory had been looking for.

Now he was starting to become that and Amory didn't think he liked it all that much. Tough guys, rough guys. He liked those. People that couldn't stay loyal, though? Those really... really irritated him.

Amory smiled coldly without moving away. "Who?"

Scy's stomach twisted unpleasantly in the face of Ams' smile. It would have added to the guilt, were he not already drowning in it up to his eyeballs. What seemed natural at the time now felt like an act of betrayal—which it was. Scy would never deny that what he did was wrong. Even children knew that cheating was wrong; it was like a basic fact of life.

So why did he do it? He claimed to love two people but obviously he loved one more than the other and now Ams was coming to terms with that realization. Scy lowered his hand and his head. "An old boyfriend. No one you know." Not that it probably mattered either way; whether Ams knew Ember or not, it didn't change what Scy did.

Nobody he knew. An old boyfriend. Amory saw where this was going. Probably a first love; people tended to love those they fell for first and without meaning to, they often made comparisons to their current lovers. Amory should know; he did the same thing with Scy. Except he didn't find his ex and start messing with him while he was with Scy. The heat in the pit of his stomach seemed to grow and he felt as if the world around him was starting to follow.

Maybe it was. Amory was a witch, after all.

Amory stared Scy down, as if he could peer straight past the exterior and peer into his mind. What was he thinking right that moment? About the other guy? Was he waiting for Amory to start crying? Was he waiting for him to grovel and beg? Oh, Amory's father never would have allowed his son to do such a thing. Amory didn't even know what he wanted to do. Some part of him actually stung from the sudden betrayal. Some part of him wanted to lash out, to hurt Scy. Somehow, he retained his composure.

He stepped away from Scy, out of range of his worthless hands, that brought only bitter disappointment and nothing approaching the intended comfort.

"Then get out," he said softly, although his face could have been made of stone. "You weren't enough for me anyway."

"Yeah. I know."

Amory wasn't wrong; Scy didn't stack up to his expectations in any sense of the word. Their problems with intimacy was but a tiny blip to the bigger issue of Scy's heart... well, not being in the right place. He nodded and let out a low sigh, dropping his hand to his lap. He didn't think he could lift his head now; the tone of Amory's voice said it all.

"I'll get my things and move out tonight." Scy stood, awkwardly pulling at the bottom hem of his shirt. "I'm sorry, Ams. You deserve better."

He turned toward the bedroom, where his clothes were. His belongings were scattered all over the apartment but now didn't feel like the time to comb through every cupboard and drawer. Better to take the obvious things and leave, before he hurt Amory any more by simply being there.

Funny how the insult bounced right off Scy. That irritated a small part of Amory. He wanted to hurt him and make him regret ever fucking with him but Scy only seemed sad and resigned. Which was even more irritating, since Scy was packing up to take off with somebody else. He would find comfort in somebody's arms and he would leave Amory here with this mess. For a moment, Amory remained where he was, then slowly followed Scy into the bedroom.

He stood in the doorway. Unless Scy wanted to leap out of the bedroom window, Amory was blocking his only exit. He narrowed his eyes, watching Scy picking up things. So. He really thought he could just pick up and leave like that.

"You really think it's so easy?"

Scy heard footsteps but he thought—hoped—that it meant Amory was leaving the apartment. Or going to the bathroom. Or going anywhere but into the bedroom, though his heart sank when the footsteps stopped at the door and stayed there. As quickly as he could, without seeming desperate, Scy shoved clothes into the suitcase that he'd hidden away in the closet—the one that he'd used to move in. It was almost too ironic, how he'd come full circle.

At the sound of Amory's voice, Scy's hand stilled. He stood without moving for several moments, trying to process Amory's tone and the threat in his words. He didn't think this would be easy, no. He didn't imagine that when he told Amory he had cheated and that he was leaving, that Amory would smile and nod and say that he understood.

Scy turned around with a sweater in his hand, his fingers tightening around the soft material. "I..." What was the right response? If Amory wanted to hit him or physically lash out, Scy supposed that he had the right to do it. It didn't seem like something Amory would do, though. Then again, how much did Scy really know about him?

"What can I do?" He had already apologized. He owned up to his infidelity. He had been honest and he was nothing if not contrite. Scy let the sweater drop onto the bed. "If you want to hit me... Go ahead."

Hit him? Did Scy really think that was all it took to erase what happened? As if some punch or kick could possibly outweigh what had broken between them. Amory liked pain, this was true, but he'd always liked it coming at him, rather than being the one doing all the inflicting. This was different, though. This was emotional. Amory didn't know... did he love Scy or not? How did one define love? He was fond of him. He grew fonder, knowing he was different. He wanted more from him than Scy could ever give him but he'd been willing to live a lie for him. With him.

Yes, that was love, wasn't it? And now Scy was withholding it. Taking it back. Everything he'd ever said to Amory was now colored in lies and he wondered, was that the same feeling Scy had when he'd learned whatever he learned about Amory? That he was a witch? That he manufactured and sold drugs? It wasn't so different, really. Everything he ever said to Scy was colored in lies. The only difference was, Amory knew his lies were lies. He thought Scy was different. He thought he was genuine.

"I'm so disappointed in you," Amory said, voice still soft. There was no reason to shout or scream. Amory had never been that type of person, anyway. His anger ran cold. It ran quiet. Silent, even, sometimes.

"You're not what I thought you were." And Amory, he wasn't what Scy thought, either. Was that the biggest reason for this sudden departure? Or... something else? Sadly, he added, "And I can't change that... but I can still keep you."

Scy didn't respond to Amory's disappointment, since it was evident in his every word, his every expression. There was no explosive anger, though; no screaming or physical violence to mirror the pain that Scy had inflicted. Funny, that Amory asked Scy to hurt him in the bedroom, and Scy couldn't perform no matter how much he tried. Yet here, without even trying...

"What do you mean?"

Keep him? Keep him how? Scy was already almost fully packed. He had made up his mind to leave. He had to be with Ember, there was no question about it. Slowly, Scy shook his head. What could Amory do, if not punch him? The implications of the fact that Amory was a witch had yet to hit him. Scy didn't know anything about the supernatural world, except for what Ember very briefly described in their short reunion.

"I'm leaving, Ams," he repeated--firmly this time, as he zipped up his suitcase and pulled it off the bed. Scy walked forward, despite the fact that Amory was blocking the doorway.

"No." Amory's tone was just as firm as Scy's and when Scy advanced, Amory lifted his hand and spoke a single word that would stop Scy in his tracks. It was sort of a time stopper spell. It stopped Scy's time for the moment, rather than paralyzing him. A paralysis spell would have been annoying to deal with because Scy would fall to the ground and his body would be rigid and unmovable. This way, he was still standing and he was malleable if Amory wanted to move him, directing the "time" in his limbs. If he had to explain it, anyway.

"You're staying," Amory said, fingers slipping into his back pocket to bring it out--the drug that Scy caught on to him making. It was pretty to look at. As mesmerizing as the drug's effects, actually. Amory held it up so that Scy could see it. No point in denying it anymore. Playing dumb was getting him nowhere fast.

"Is this what you were talking about?" he asked, tone almost innocent despite the taunting expression on his face. He pulled a small, crystalline rock out of the small plastic bag. It could have been rainbow colored rock candy, it looked as innocent as Amory sounded. "I think you should try it."

This wasn't how a relationship worked. Not a normal relationship. Not the kind of relationship that Scy thought he'd entered into when he first met Amory. He was only relieved that Amory wasn't afraid of him at first. Most people took one look at him and they were convinced that he was no good. At least Amory seemed to see that underneath the tattoos and piercings, there was a person.

Now, it was like they had gone back to square one. Except instead of a person, Amory was treating him like... some thing. Like a possession. Scy's steps halted, at first because Amory wasn't moving off to the side and then because he couldn't physically move. He stood like a statue, the only movement the slow widening of his eyes and the mild quickening of his breath.

What was happening? Was this a... spell? Magic? He felt bound by invisible strings; his mind willed his body to move but the limbs wouldn't obey in real time. It felt like everything slowed, even his thoughts. He watched as though transfixed as Amory drew out a plastic bag. At first, Scy was confused. What were those rainbow rocks? Novelty items, like the fake 'gems' that they sold at the general store to fool visitors?

No... It was prystal--the drug that Ember warned him about. The drug made for humans, by witches. Scy wanted to shout, to protest, to run, but nothing happened. Time crawled at a snail's pace, as he watched with horrified eyes. Scy was helpless--as a human, he had no defence against what was happening. The drug unsettled him but the look on Amory's face terrified him. This wasn't the man he thought he knew.

Everything Ember said about him was right. And Ember, he was far away, unable to help him now.

Yes, Scy should give it a try before knocking it. Prystal. Such a cutesy name for something that looked sweet and innocent. Yet it was far from any of those things... They reflected Amory pretty well, he must say. That had never been intentional. He smiled at Scy as he reached out with his free hand and lightly cupped Scy's chin.

"I just wanted to love you."

Was it so difficult to love somebody? For some time, he was content. Despite everything else, Amory was content when he had Scy. The idea of him leaving terrified some smaller part of him, the part that brought out the darker thoughts, the side of him that he'd so carefully kept away from Scy's gaze. He never thought Scy would ever see it. Maybe a part of him had hoped he would help erase it. Too bad it didn't work that way. Apparently the rot had taken root far too deeply in Amory's heart.

"Here, I'll do it gently..."

Some people actually put the prystal into their mouths to melt but it wasn't quite as potent that way. Plus, it took a while to kick in. No, Amory would melt it and inject it. And that was what he did, taking his time with every step, making sure that Scy could see him all the while. He reached out and turned Scy's arm around. There was a moment's hesitation as he looked over that familiar arm. But then he remembered that Scy was leaving him and the fire burned in his chest. He let the needle plunge into Scy's vein. Once the syringe was empty, he tossed it onto the nearby dresser and then he pushed Scy backward onto the bed--simultaneously letting the time spell go as his body imprisoned him in its stead.

"It's okay. You'll like it. Everybody does."

NO!

Scy wanted to shout it aloud but his lips wouldn't even begin to form the words. He watched with mounting horror as Amory did something to the rainbow rock, watched as it dissolved into liquid and was taken up into a syringe. Even the molten drug inside was rainbow-colored, swirling mysteriously. Under any other circumstance, it would have been fascinating. Now, all the beauty couldn't eclipse the terror that he felt.

How could Amory claim to love him, and then do this? Scy couldn't begin to imagine the warped mind that would equate those two things--much less believe that doing this was acceptable. People always told him that he was too gullible but he had never realized the danger of it until now. He never thought that it was a detrimental quality until he had been taken in and deceived by the darkness that lurked just behind Amory's calm facade.

All of it lent credence to what Ember had told him about the Novas. Ember. Scy's panicked eyes turned to the door as though Ember would burst through and rescue him, but nothing happened. He felt the prickle in his arm and tried with all his might to struggle against the invisible bonds, to no avail. The needle pierced his arm and he felt it acutely. When he fell, the world spun but--at last, he was freed!

Scy rolled away as fast as he could, before the drug could take its full effect. He felt it crawling through his veins like a living being. It was golden, warm and calming, but his heart still beat out of his chest. Scy stumbled to his feet, staggering like a drunken man as he tried to get to the door. He couldn't shout--and he didn't want to waste the effort.

All he wanted was to escape.

Poor Scy. Trying to escape. Trying to claw his way toward somewhere else. Somebody else. Amory's eyes narrowed and he watched Scy for a moment, letting him stagger and attempt to get to the door. Something else was more important than staying here, was it? Amory took hold of Scy's arm and pulled him back.

"Where to in such a hurry?" he asked. "I thought you would do anything for me. I thought for sure this time I wasn't wrong..."

But he was wrong. Even picking up a different kind of guy resulted in the same kind of disloyalty his father always warned him about. Amory didn't have the same knack for picking loyal men as his father did. Somehow, his father inspired great loyalty, people who would gravely stand beside him and take bullets for him, eat his secrets for him, do his bidding, no matter how much it scraped at their morality. Amory? Amory couldn't even keep a boyfriend loyal for long. Really, it was almost kinda annoying.

"Just let it take hold. You'll like it. I promise."

"No... no..."

Scy could barely get two steps away from the bed, and soon the backs of his legs were bumping against the mattress. He fell onto the mattress again, head spinning and veins full of fire. It felt... good. Wrong. The kind of sensation that enveloped him couldn't possibly be good.

And he didn't like it. He hated the way that he couldn't even control his body. He could barely string together two words and whatever Amory was saying almost escaped him completely. Scy writhed on the bed, fingers clenching against the sheets. His breathing was labored as he tried to move away from Amory, with the world dissolving into colors.

"...ber... Em...ber... hel...p..."

It didn't matter what Scy said, Amory was consumed with the idea of making him pay for luring Amory in and making him feel something for him... only to walk out on him. Or try to, anyway. Nobody was walking out on Amory Nova as long as he was still the one with the power and between the two of them, he knew he was the one that held all the power. He'd known it for a while.

What he didn't like was the fact that Scy brought up some other name. Ember, was it? Amory narrowed his eyes and then crawled atop Scy, pinning him to the bed with his thighs. One hand held an arm down but the other went to Scy's chin so that he could force Scy's face to look up at him. Hard to really force that, given how Scy's gaze seemed to be in focus and then out of it. That was the problem with being drugged.

"Forget about him," Amory commanded. "There's no... Ember. Just Amory."

"No... Ember... no..." Scy groaned, the noise half tortured and half pleasured as the drug began to take complete control over his thoughts. He could barely hold on to the thought of Ember, much less what the name meant to him and what it represented—safety, love, acceptance and openness, all of which he once believed that he had with Amory, only to have the trust between them abruptly dissolve. Part of that was Scy's fault—the part where he slept with Ember, shamelessly grasping at the remnants of his first love. But this...

This wasn't his fault. He didn't want the prystal and he didn't want the way that it robbed him of his freedom. Scy's fingers clenched and unclenched as he tried with all his might and main to fight it. He even half-bucked to the side to dislodge Amory, though how much good that did him was debatable. As his chin was taken and his head forced up, he blinked owlishly and sluggishly.

"No..." Amory dominated his vision now. Was he happy? Triumphant? Scy's brows furrowed as Amory came into and out of focus. "I..." His lips mouthed Ember's name but the word wouldn't come out. He tried again, mouthing the syllables, and then the world melted all around him. Scy said something nonsensical as his struggles gradually stopped. He laid there, riding on the sensations of the golden high, and as the pure happiness swept him up in its embrace, he let out a giddy little laugh.

"Stop. Saying. His. Name."

Who the fuck was this Ember, anyway? Amory was going to have his goons on it the moment he was finished with Scy. For certain, he'd find a way to get back at the rat. Was he the one that alerted Scy to him? Didn't matter; by being close to Scy, he was already dragged into the net.

Really, Scy was lucky that Amory administered the prystal first. It made things much easier on him. On Scy, of course. Maybe for Amory, too, but Amory didn't want it easy. For now, however, he used it to his advantage. He used the prystal to take what he wanted from Scy, knowing full well the entire time that it wasn't what Scy wanted. That made it a bitter act, fucking him. Amory normally took pleasure in it, but it was always too soft, too gentle. Now he took what he wanted precisely as he wanted. Scy wasn't giving him what he wanted but Amory could finally show him what he wanted.

By the time he was finished with him, Amory's anger had been mostly abated. Scy was marked, his throat ringed in red marks and bruises. His body was covered in them. Bruises. Marks. Magic brands. This spot was his and that was his and so was this. He made it all too obvious. Even when Scy recovered and left, he would bring all this back to his precious Ember and if knew what was good for him, he'd let Scy go.

Amory's burning gaze remained hard on Scy for a long time afterward. The prystal had taken him in its arms and he was asleep for now. Likely exhausted from what he'd gone through. He wasn't smiling anymore, though. There was a slight crease in his brow, as if whatever he dreamed of wasn't pleasant. Amory traced the crease with his fingertip until it disappeared. Then he rolled out of bed and slipped his clothes on. Let him think when he woke that he had his chance. Amory wasn't going to be here to watch him go. But he would be elsewhere and he would have eyes on him.

Scy couldn't say when the dizzying high and the pleasurable dream became a stark nightmare. He was dimly aware of clothes being stripped, of a hard grip on his wrists, of teeth on his throat, but he could no more fight back than he could pull the Prystal from his veins. Something else was happening too, on his skin, like a hot brand being pressed against his most vulnerable spots and he didn't so much feel it with his body as he did with his soul.

He couldn't describe it, but he felt it acutely—and even that wasn't enough to pull him out of his Prystal-induced state.

When it was all over, Scy fell into an uneasy sleep, punctuated by horrid shapes and flashing, dazzling colors behind closed eyelids. His eyes moved restlessly behind their lids too, as he drew erratic breath, and it was a long, long while before he even began to gather consciousness. Even then, he dozed fitfully. Each shift brought new pain and when he finally did wake, it felt as though his entire body was on fire.

It was dark out now; the room was plunged into terrifying shadows. Shivering, Scy rolled onto his side and coughed and the motions jarred his aching body. He let out an involuntary sound of pain and doubled over. Clarity returned by degrees and with it, memories. Everything that happened while he was under the influence of that devilish drug was blurred but he remembered the way that he felt. The revulsion and the horror. The violation.

He remembered enough to spur him into action, to roll violently out of bed and stagger to the door, despite the sharp pain between his legs.