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Lying in the dark, staring up at an unfamiliar ceiling, Niran refused to sigh. He was in a bed of his own making. Literally. He’d laid out the bedding for his impromptu sleepover at Pete’s house. It had been his idea to force himself into Pete’s daily life to help Pete learn to control the demon monkey inside him.
In the bed, across the room and yet only a few short feet away, Pete was sound asleep. Not a worry to be seen.
Coming to stay here was a terrible idea. Niran knew he needed to stay away. There were countless reasons it was a bad idea to associate with Pete Jiraphat.
Possibly the most obvious was that Pete was a stranger to the world of yao and wu. Niran had been careless when he dragged Pete into his jobs. Yao was unpredictable, dangerous, deadly. As Niran kept reminding Pete, they were always one wrong move from one or both of them being devoured by the evil spirits. It was even more dangerous to involve someone so unfamiliar with the situation. Pete could get hurt. He could die.
In conjunction with that reason, Pete was a ticking time bomb. The demon inside him would one day escape and spell disaster for anyone around him. It was only a matter of time. If they didn’t find someone strong enough, didn’t find the right ritual, then Pete would be devoured by the demon inside him within a year. His soul would be lost. He would be gone.
But there were other reasons too – ones less deadly but no less disastrous.
Pete was annoying. He was loud and rambunctious and didn’t know when to stop talking. He was curious – about yao, about wu, about Niran. He called them friends. And even when Niran refused to help him, his enthusiasm for Niran didn’t waver. He came when Niran called, even when he didn’t know the plan or what Niran wanted. Pete was naive. He was... insufferable.
Niran looked toward the bed with his new... friend. He’d called Pete a friend a few times, but the word felt foreign and wrong. It didn’t match what Pete was.
Niran quietly sat up so he could get a better look at Pete in the bed. The other was breathing calmly, one arm up over his head. He looked younger when he slept. He looked a little too close to dead, because there was none of his usual movement. Something tugged in Niran’s chest at the thought.
And there was the biggest reason Niran should pull away after this mission. He pressed a hand to his chest, but he couldn’t pull his eyes from Pete.
The other twitched suddenly in his sleep, his face screwed up in discomfort, and the sound that escaped him was borderline animal. The cry of a macaque. Just as suddenly, Pete relaxed back into peaceful slumber. A sign of the weakening seal? A consequence of their ritual to draw out the macaque’s powers? It felt like Niran’s fault, and he ached because of it.
Niran felt, and that was the problem. From the moment he saw Pete in the gambling hall, he had felt drawn to the other man. Sure, he rationalized it. He needed someone to help him draw out the yao in the gambling hall. He dragged Pete out to help Top because he needed to test Pete’s skills. He called Pete for a drink because he had no one else, and as much as he wanted to be in silence, he didn’t want to be alone. He brought Pete into the fight against Qi Rong because he needed Pete’s demon power.
On and on, Niran had excuses. But time and again, he knew they were false.
He pulled Pete out of that gambling house because he couldn’t leave Pete there to have his energy and his spirit sucked out by the yao. Doing so felt wrong.
He called Pete for a drink because he knew Pete would talk enough to distract him from his own problems. And as much as he tried to deny it, Niran actually liked hearing Pete talk about himself. Except when he heard Pete talk badly about himself. Who the fuck made Pete think he was worthless? Niran would punch them.
And Niran brought Pete to the meeting of the Wu in the hopes that one of them would take notice of Pete, as he had. That one of the other Wu might be skilled enough to help Pete with his demon problem, and then Pete could have one less thing to worry about.
Somehow, Niran had moved closer to the bed. He held his breath as he watched Pete breathe. Watched the way Pete’s lips parted just a little with each breath.
Shit.
When Pete had drunkenly told Niran that he was still cool and promised to stay by Niran’s side, Niran had felt the pull then. And when they made their plans to draw out the macaque, it burned within him. And again, when they’d successfully pushed the macaque back within Pete and saved Pete from succumbing to his yao, when it was clear Pete was not lost – Niran had nearly acted on the feeling that refused to stop growing.
Pete had such beautiful skin. Such pretty lips. And they said such tantalizing things. Would Pete kick his ass if Niran stole a kiss?
Someone like Niran developing deeper feelings for someone like Pete – it was the most important reason why Niran should walk away. They shouldn’t, couldn’t be together. They wouldn’t make a good pair. Their energies didn’t match. Their lives were too different. And even if they did manage to make it work, it was only a few short months until Pete would either be saved or need to be stopped. If they had any sort of relationship, then destroying the macaque’s vessel would inevitably destroy Niran as well.
And yet Niran was at the bedside, studying Pete’s slumbering face like it held the secret to everything. He wished he could caress the skin of Pete’s cheek – see if it felt as soft as it looked. He wished he could press their lips together.
It had been a long time since Niran had felt attracted to someone enough to want to kiss them. But this draw toward Pete was unlike anything he’d ever felt before. He wanted to feel Pete on every part of his body, to know him as intimately as he knew himself. And the intensity of it scared him, warded him away, made him want to reach out and withdraw at the same time.
“It’s a bad idea,” he whispered to himself.
Pete’s mouth was so close. Maybe Niran could sneak a kiss while the other slept. He could get the desire out of his system, and Pete never had to know. Then Niran could focus on the real problem. Right?
“Mm. I love bad ideas,” Pete murmured sleepily. He stretched and then brought his hand down from over his head. It landed on Niran’s shoulder and drew Pete’s attention. His eyes opened and he blearily stared up at Niran in the dark.
Niran’s chest squeezed. Painful. Yearning.
They watched each other for a long moment. The spot where Pete’s hand sat on his shoulder, so close to his neck, felt unbearably hot. But despite the war in his head and the speedy beat of his heart, Niran managed to keep a cool expression. The only sign of his discomfort, of his intrusive thoughts, was the way he swallowed deeply while his eyes dropped to Pete’s mouth.
“What...” Pete’s voice was soft with drowsiness. “What’s the bad idea?” His own eyes flickered down. To Niran’s lips? Because he was falling asleep again? Niran licked his suddenly dry lips. Pete’s eyes followed the motion.
That was it.
Niran hummed, then leaned down and pressed their lips together. It was quick and gentle, but the softness of Pete’s mouth lingered on Niran’s skin. It wasn’t enough. Shit.
“Oh.” Pete licked his lips. Blinked, dazed. “Oh, I must be dreaming, dude. Wow.”
“Mm. You must be,” Niran agreed, voice deep with want, with how hard he was holding himself back. “Go back to sleep.”
“Fuck.” Pete’s hand slid further onto Niran’s shoulder and held on. His face tilted up, too tired to lift completely from the bed. “One- One more? Na? Before the taxi...”
Every logical reason played on repeat in Niran’s head. Every reason he should back away, stay away, far away. But they were in each other’s orbits now. And every reason to leave felt like it could be reasoned with. And -
Pete wanted to kiss him too.
“Okay,” Niran conceded. “One more.”
That was a reason to stay.