Break the Skin

by prismatoxic

Summary:

Felix Carter is just a normal human man, and Matt Jones is just his normal human boss—or at least that's the picture they paint for everyone else. In the privacy of a lavish office on the top floor of a corporate building, Felix is a man on a mission to kill a god, and Matt is the god daring him to try.

This game can only have one winner, and Matt learns to regret not pulling the plug before it started to mean something.

Chapter 1: Setup

Summary:

Months before the arrival of the being that will end his life, Matthew Jones has an unpleasant night at his father's company party.

Notes:

matt and felix are a pair of ocs who have been in the works since mid-2024. they mean everything to me, and i'm happy to finally be writing their story.

should you stumble upon this mess without already knowing about malix, you can check out my malix archive blog for more info and lots of art from yours truly (hi, i'm tox)

i always love feedback and am extremely pumped about sharing this story. i hope you enjoy it!

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Matthew hates coming to his father's company parties.

He doesn't even work here, and he's made it clear multiple times that he doesn't want to. Regardless of whatever skills he has, he really can't handle the sheer amount of people that work at the company, and remote work has never been on the table. Maybe the assumption is that by bringing him to these events, he'll gain a taste for it. See that it's a place he'd like to be.

He nervously sips his champagne, standing as far off to the side of the room as possible. There's literally nowhere that he'd rather be less.

It's men and women in suits as far as the eye can see. Top-level staff, celebrating some milestone Matthew didn't actually commit to memory. Some part of him thinks it must all be for show. His father isn't as good at hiding his stress as he thinks he is, nor is he as quiet as he thinks he is when he's talking with his executive staff. Profits are down. Demand is dwindling. For all the bustle and laughter of tonight, the company is in dire straits, and their CEO is lying to them.

It's not Matthew's business. He drains his glass before setting it on a nearby windowsill, reluctant to venture any farther into the crowd for a refill. Just another hour or so and his father will give up on this and let him leave. That's how it's always been before, anyway.

There's his father now. Matthew straightens up, trying to look marginally more put-together as he's approached, realizing only at the last moment that his father isn't alone. Leisurely following him is a tall man with jet-black hair, dressed a little more business casual than the rest of the crowd. Perhaps the most notable thing about him is that he's young.

The second most notable thing is how irritated Matthew's father looks to be with him.

"Matthew," his father greets, clipped, hands held loosely behind his back. "I wanted to introduce you to somebody."

No you don't, Matthew thinks, gaze flicking over to the stranger's face. His eyes are dark, piercing right back into Matthew's own as he calmly sips his drink.

"Shoot," Matthew mutters, trying to figure out where to put his hands and settling on his pockets. He hates formal wear, and getting comfortable in it is impossible.

"This is Felix Carter," his father introduces, gesturing towards the stranger. "He's my assistant. I thought, perhaps, that you two might find some common ground… He's almost your age."

Matthew meets his father's gaze and raises both eyebrows. What is this, some kind of setup? His dad finding the least awkward way to say I don't mind that you're gay? He sure hopes not. The guy is certainly attractive, but there's a sinister aura radiating off of him that Matthew in no way thinks his father isn't aware of.

None of that matters, though, does it. This is a professional setting. Matthew forces a smile, holding a hand out the way he's always been taught. "Pleasure to meet you, Felix."

"So you're a junior, huh?" Felix asks with a little smirk, briefly glancing down at Matthew's hand before shaking it. Based on the brief hesitation and location of his watch, Matthew supposes he's left-handed.

"Yeah, I guess my dad didn't have any better ideas," he offers, and Felix laughs. It's forced. This whole interaction is forced.

"Feel free to get acquainted," his father says, already backing out of the conversation. "I know it's boring here for people your age."

"S'boring in general," Felix quips as Matthew takes his hand back, absently rubbing his wrist. "Trying to get rid of me, Mr. Jones?"

"I would never," Matthew's father says, flat and cold, as he walks away.

The tension there is unmistakable, but Felix seems unbothered, smiling to himself as he sips his drink again. Matthew doesn't want to be here, but he can't deny that there's something significant happening in front of him. Pieces are falling into place, shreds of information that he had no way to put together before, and he's thinking on it so carefully that he almost jumps when Felix addresses him again.

"Little, for a guy in his… what, twenties?" he ventures. "Your dad's kinda short, but you're…"

"I'm aware," Matthew says with a humorless laugh. "Been short all my life, if you'd believe it. Twenty-eight, by the way."

"Twenty-eight?" Felix repeats incredulously, and were he a bolder man, Matthew might urge him to just get it all out of his system. He's done this song and dance before—he's shorter than even the average height for women, and his face is soft and youthful to the point of getting him accused of truancy while running errands more than once. Other people have noticed. They've pointed it out. Felix is hardly breaking new ground, here.

"How old are you?" Matthew presses. "I'm honestly surprised my dad would hire someone in their twenties for that position."

There's a little flash of something in Felix's eyes that adds fuel to the fire of Matthew's assumptions, a glint of smug satisfaction. "Twenty-five, actually. I convinced him that I was right for the job."

That cements it. Matthew wishes he had another drink. "You're the one who was poking through his files recently," he mutters.

Felix makes a thoughtful little sound, then drains his glass, taking his time with the action. (Now is not the time to be getting hung up on the way his Adam's apple bobs while he drinks. There are more attractive, less intimidating men out there to ogle.) When he finishes, he sets the empty glass next to Matthew's on the nearby windowsill, which conveniently gives him a valid excuse to box Matthew in against the wall.

"You noticed?" he asks in a low voice, smirking. "What were you doing in your dad's files, huh? To notice something like that."

Matthew presses himself back against the wall. This, too, is familiar. It's by far not the first time someone larger and stronger than him has tried to intimate him. Or, well, larger is certainly on the table, the way Felix towers over him. He might be too skinny to be stronger. It doesn't really matter. Someone like him isn't banking on physical strength, after all.

"I'm his computer-savvy son," Matthew explains quietly. "I'm basically free in-house tech support. You're not the first person who's dug through his things, either."

"He's a rich and powerful man," Felix says with a sharp smile. "People want dirt on him. Not surprising, is it?"

"Well I don't think any of them have successfully blackmailed him before," Matthew mutters, shrinking away. "You had access to more than that, I guess?"

"I'm very good at what I do," Felix murmurs back, and this close his eyes feel like black holes, trying to draw in everything around them. This might be more dangerous than any school bully Matthew has ever dealt with.

"Hitting on the boss's kid, Carter?" someone calls from out in the crowd, and Felix leans away to shoot a glare in that direction. By the time he's looked back, Matthew has already ducked away from him, moving back out into open space. No one ever actually accounts for how small he is.

Not that he gets especially far away. Felix grabs his shoulder, stopping him before he can fully escape, and Matthew looks up at him while trying to hide just how scared he is.

"You're not gonna be a problem for me, are you?" Felix asks, and now all that false charm is gone, replaced by a look that's almost devoid of any emotion at all. Matthew swallows thickly, wondering for just a moment if blackmail is actually the worst thing Felix has ever done.

"If you're worried I'm gonna try and save my dad, or something, don't be," he says defensively. "I don't wanna get involved with his stuff at all. Whatever you're doing is his problem."

Felix's smile returns, smug and insincere, and he pats Matthew's shoulder before letting him go. "Atta boy. Safer that way, really. You're smart for that."

Matthew doesn't even really attempt to smile back, offering more of a grimace before slipping away. Felix doesn't pursue, and he manages to get lost in the crowd, eventually emerging out on the other side and making a beeline for the nearest exit. He played his father's game and got threatened for it—he's leaving now whether he's been given permission or not.

It's the stairwell where he ends up, too nervous about his father's other coworkers to risk the elevator. As he tugs his tie loose, he finally checks his phone, having had it on silent so he wouldn't be tempted to use it and get scolded for ignoring the event. Something in his heart feels lighter when he sees he has a message from Sydney.

How's the party going?

Matthew makes three separate attempts at drafting a response before giving up and calling. Sydney answers on the second ring, foregoing a normal greeting to instead ask, "That bad, huh?"

"You don't even know, Syd," Matthew sighs, raking a hand back through his hair. "Worse than usual. I met Dad's new assistant and he's like, the scummiest sleazeball alive."

"Does your dad even need an assistant?" Sydney asks with a small laugh. "He runs such a tight ship, I can't imagine he'd be content with anybody trying to help."

No. He wouldn't be. Matthew bites his lip, glancing over at the door that leads back out into the building. His father was forced into this, and while their relationship has never been amazing, his father is one of the only people he has. Should he do something?

"The guy wasn't hired normally," he mutters. "He blackmailed Dad to give him the position. I'm sure of it. The way everything adds up…" He sits down heavily on the nearest step, curling over his knees. "I dunno what's gonna happen. Dad has dirt, and this guy knows it, and the company is starting to sink…"

"Hey, hey, easy," Sydney soothes, and his voice is as calming as ever, giving Matthew the incentive to take a few deep breaths. "Look, worst comes to worst, you move out of your dad's place and move in with me."

That earns a small laugh. "Trading one father figure for another?"

"You know damn well that's not the relationship we have," Sydney scoffs. "You're nearing thirty, mister. No more old jokes."

"I've got two years, and you've got the body of a DILF," Matthew says plainly, and Sydney cracks up on the other end of the line. More tension bleeds away as he listens to the sound. It's been years, now, and Matthew has never found the courage to say the things he knows he needs to say, but Sydney's laughter makes him feel like he's floating.

He makes his way down a few flights, Sydney keeping him company as he finds a less occupied floor and takes the elevator the rest of the way. At long last Matthew finds his way out into the parking garage, voice echoing off the stone pillars much as they had in the stairwell. He finds his car, hesitating by the door to let Sydney finish telling him a story before making any loud sounds.

"…And I told her it wasn't doable, but you know how these people are," Sydney sighs, laughing a little at the end. "Find your car yet?"

Matthew gazes out through the open section of the garage's wall, first down at the buildings flanking the company's headquarters, and then up to the night sky far above. For all the light pollution of the city, the stars seem so clear.

"Did you mean what you said, Syd?" he asks softly. "Would you actually let me move in?"

"Like that's even a question," Sydney teases, voice warm. "'Course I would, Mattie. Hell, you don't even have to wait for things with your dad to go bad if you wanna just do it."

Face warm, Matthew smiles up at the sky, then turns back to his car. "Guess I'll think about it. It'd be nice, right? I could help you pay rent."

"You already help me pay rent."

"Well I could do it more directly," Matthew huffs, sliding into his car. "Maybe some chores too. Rub your shoulders when you get off work…"

Sydney laughs again. "Oh, is that what you're gunning for? Being a housewife?"

"Bite me, jackass," Matthew mutters, but he's smiling, and Sydney laughs harder, and for a moment everything feels like it's going to be okay.

Chapter 2: Execution

Summary:

It's best to not make accords with gods—you never know what you might actually get.

It's been a long time now. Not as long as some other periods between lives, but long enough, and he's starting to feel restless. He's watched the human world move on in leaps and bounds, technical innovations coming faster and faster with less and less space between, culture rapidly shifting and expanding in response to a world that grows ever more connected. He hadn't longed for a place in it as much for a while, but the more things change, the more he finds himself aching for it. Perhaps it's shameful to have a fondness for being a part of humanity. At this point, he doesn't really care.

He doesn't have any particular plans for where to plant himself. After all this time, all these many thousands of lives, he's done the same thing so often that it's actually started to lose its luster. It's so easy to sow the seed of faith, to convince enough people of the existence of the Godking and draw them in close until they're wholly devoted. It's almost become second nature. That's boring, though, to do the same thing again and again, and even though every single cult has been different the broad strokes have remained the same.

Maybe that's his own fault. It's the same Godking every time, and the same name that they can't pronounce. The same methodology and the same stories. For all that the people within make each experience unique… Has he stagnated? Even going dormant for a while can't shake the dissatisfaction this time. He has no better ideas, though. Only the desire for flesh and bone.

It's as he drifts through an area that's changed immeasurably since he last saw it that he's suddenly jolted by the clumsy syllables of his own name as spoken by a human tongue. It was many lives ago that he'd started giving people ways to summon him. It's not as far-reaching as he claims it to be, but within the right distance he can feel it, plain as day: a call for his attention. How long has it been since he's actually felt it? He winds through the air at a much faster pace, zeroing in on the call. Who dares summon the Godking?

It's a decently-sized house in one of those affluent modern neighborhoods. Through the walls and down, he finds himself in a stone basement, filled with normal human amenities aside from the summoning glyph scrawled on the floor. The runes within it are the same that people gave to his name, unchanged over time, no more correct than their attempts to pronounce it. In a way, it just suits the story more. This name, both on the floor and stumbling past the lips of the man kneeling there, is just another facet of the Godking.

The man is dressed in plain clothes. His hair is a dark auburn, cut short, presently in a state of disarray. He's clearly stressed. The Godking drifts lazily around him, unseen and unheard, studying. An older man, middle aged perhaps? He's pale, like many in this region. He's also desperate. That's far more interesting.

Finally the Godking addresses him, pressing a question into his mind, an inquiry as to his intentions, his reason for calling. None of this is done with words; in this form, the Godking can't even make those. He speaks in his own language, evocative and vivid, concepts and images pressed into the psyche.

The man's head jerks up as he hastily scans the room for signs of another presence. "You're… here? It worked?"

Of course it did. The Godking casts his attention to the glyph again, lines drawn so neat as to appear artificial. How foolish would it be to make a summoning ritual that never worked? He presses the man for his purpose, demanding answers.

The man stumbles to his feet. "Ancient texts say you're capable of lifting humanity into prosperity. I… I need that, right now." He fidgets with a tie that isn't properly cinched around his neck, hanging loose. "I already made a deal with the demons under my company, but they're failing me. You—You're something else, aren't you? More powerful?"

Prosperity, and power… The Godking makes his amusement known, feeling endlessly smug. Yes, he's more powerful than any of the pests that already make their home in this world. As for prosperity… Do his many communities across all of time not prove that? His religion lifts people, betters them. He can turn any failing life into a prosperous one.

Turning in a slow circle, as if trying to find the source of the thoughts being forced into his mind, the man says, "I've seen it. The history, the stories. How can I make an accord with you? Do I just devote myself to your religion? I'll do whatever it takes. I can't lose now."

Whatever it takes, hm?

No one's ever asked for anything like this before. In fact, he's only ever been summoned by believers and disciples. This man is neither. He clearly knows of the inhuman forces at play on this planet, but he's no devout. He's just some frazzled businessman.

"I just need profits to rise again," the man insists. "The shareholders are at my throat demanding to see improvement. If I start firing employees, lowering production costs—It always leads to the same place. I don't want my company to be circling the drain." He hesitates, then adds, "Please. This is my entire life. I can't lose this."

A company, huh. Business and finance and investors. The Godking can't claim to know much about any of it, but that won't be an issue if he chooses to pursue this. The real question is whether or not this is worth it. It is, though, isn't it? A change of pace. Something new. Whatever this company deals in, he could certainly force it to new heights. The man claims there are demons involved, too… The Godking has always so deeply enjoyed tormenting them. They can't stand his presence, like hounds being exposed to a high-pitched sound.

It sounds fun, if nothing else. So he agrees. He'll take over, drag this company to its feet, craft it into an empire. He'll do as the man asks and make it prosper.

"W-wait," the man stammers, turning around sharply, searching for something that still isn't there. "Wait, no, this is my company. I just wanted your assistance. Is this—Are you asking me to step down?"

Not asking, no.

All it takes is a touch, a little press deeper inside. Humans unravel so easily. For all their power, the way they've cultivated rulership over this planet, they're so fragile as individuals. Especially their minds.

It would be easy to take his body, but truth be told, the Godking simply doesn't want it. He can feel someone else in this house anyway. If they don't suit his needs, he can just come back and take this one, but there's no harm in a little entertainment first. The man grips his head in both hands, breathing hard and fast before he starts to scream, his entire sense of reality collapsing in on itself at once. It's beautiful.

Somewhere above them, there's a commotion, a clattering of furniture and a door being flung open. Through the walls, the Godking hears a frantic voice: "Dad?!"

Perfect.

The Godking winds up through the floor, finding a much younger man with the same shade of auburn hair hurrying through the halls. Coiling up before striking, the Godking embeds himself inside, fangs digging deep into the burning brightness of the man's soul. He staggers to a halt, gasping, a hand clutching the fabric at the front of his shirt.

As the sweet taste of humanity floods the Godking's being, he addresses his host directly: Hello, boy.

"Who—" The man cuts himself off with a pained shout, doubling over as the Godking begins to consume him in earnest. As their senses begin to intertwine, his pain becomes more vivid, a separation of the self that humans simply aren't meant to go through.

His name is Matthew Jones Jr., and the man in the basement was indeed his father, Matthew Jones Sr. He's twenty-nine years old as of quite recently. He's interested in tech, the internet, snakes, and Japanese animation. He's gay and in love with his best friend slash former college professor. He's bitter over never getting taller than five-foot-two, and has been mistaken for both a teenager and a transgender man on several occasions. He does freelance web development and still lives here with his father.

Matthew collapses to his hands and knees, choking and gasping as an inky blackness spreads over both of his eyes, glimmers like stars deep within. The tears that have begun to cascade down his face seem like extensions of the galaxies inside of him, stardust dripping from his chin.

It will all be over soon, the Godking assures, devouring more and more of Matthew's being. Your body is going to a good cause.

"Pl-ease," Matthew whimpers, arms shaking as he valiantly continues holding himself off of the floor. "I don't… underst-stand… Why…?"

Poor thing. You just happened to be right where I needed you.

Matthew finally collapses, sobbing, curling into the fetal position. His breaths come faster, and then slower, body struggling to remember how to function as everything that he is disappears into the Godking's gullet. He reaches, consciousness flickering, digging his nails helplessly into the carpet.

At long last, his body goes limp. The sobbing stops. For a moment he's perfectly still, and then his lungs fill with fresh air, a sharp intake that almost burns.

Oh, it's been so long… Over a hundred years, now. The Godking braces his hand on the floor, working his other arm under himself to push up into a sitting position. Colors feel so bright like this, scents so overwhelming, the sounds of the world a constant cacophony that's almost as welcome as the sweetest music. A formless cluster of stardust isn't meant to experience this reality, but in an actual body…

He pushes himself all the way up, wobbly on his legs for a moment as his memories and Matthew's slowly meld together. He starts to recognize how this body feels, how it works, everything Matthew subconsciously knew about himself. There's a mirror nearby, one of those decorative ones, hung up behind a short table.

Pale skin, like his father, but dotted with a dense amount of freckles. Dark green eyes. His hair is a little messy, mid-length, hanging just above his eyes and running down the back of his neck. The Godking runs a hand back through that hair, noting that it's weighty and soft. Matthew is cute. That's what he sees, looking at this reflection. A cute, small, disarming young man that no one would ever think twice about.

Matthew… Matthew. No. That won't do. It's time for something different, a tweak in identity, something to make this form more of a home for the next short while. The Godking is an amazing actor, but he still needs something to feel like the body has become his property.

The answer seems simple enough: Matt. Matt Jones. No Jr. necessary, and soon enough he'll be the company's CEO, Matthew's father long forgotten. Speaking of…

Matt turns away from the mirror, spotting his body's glasses lying on the floor some feet away. He picks them up, looking through the lenses for a moment; as expected, he's already subconsciously healed whatever issue it was that made these a necessity, and everything just looks blurry through them. Still, it's a good detail, isn't it? Glasses are disarming, too. Matthew has such a sweet face and this will only make him look more harmless.

He folds them up, tucking one arm into the collar of his shirt. He'll get lenses that have no effect later. For now, he'll hold onto the frames so he doesn't forget.

Back in the basement, he calls emergency services, letting the operator clearly hear the senior Jones wailing before he begins his terrified tale. "I don't know what happened!" he sobs, pacing the floor. "My dad just went insane, or something, I-I don't know! He's screaming and he won't talk to me and he's hurting himself—Please, you have to send somebody!"

The operator asks him to stay on the line. He sniffles and whimpers and repeats himself several times, playing up how frantic he is, how scared. The senior Jones writhes under his foot, pinned to the floor so he doesn't damage himself any further. An unnecessary step, perhaps, but the man is in a bad enough state. Any worse and it would just be easier to let him die and bring him back. Then he might need to be broken again… This whole event has taken enough energy, anyway. Matt needs time to regenerate.

They wheel his body's father away on a stretcher, tied down and swiftly drugged. They'll take him to a hospital, surely, and Matt will need to deal with that, but then he can be safely tucked into a mental facility and forgotten. This is fun. It's fresh. There are so many moving pieces already, a puzzle for the Godking to solve.

For now however, it's time to set the Godking aside, as well as the serpent within. He's Matt Jones. In a few days' time, he'll inherit his father's stock in the company as well as his role, becoming a young CEO who knows nothing about business and needs to be guided by the hand through the motions. It will be easy, he thinks, to plant himself within their ranks, to play dumb and attach all of his puppet strings behind their backs.

Great things are on the horizon.

Chapter 3: Prey

Summary:

The company's sudden change in ownership throws all of Felix's plans off, and none of his attempts to regain control are working. Maybe it's time for more drastic measures.

Notes:

as has become obvious, the fic will have multiple povs, and from this point forth those povs will exclusively be matt or felix (unless something sounds fun to do later, idk). that said, this chapter is felix's actual debut! he sucks real bad

things will start to pick up from here. for once in my life, i'm actually approaching a story after having extensively planned out the lore. stay tuned!

 

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The whispers around the company have been getting louder. It's not too unusual for Mr. Jones to be gone longer than his weekend from time to time, but the rest of the executives clearly know something, and while they refuse to divulge people are concocting rumors. Arguably, his assistant should know something too, the actual truth of the matter, but as always the C-suite are doing everything in their power to shut Felix out.

Morons. It's like they don't know him at all.

He's poring over some "borrowed" email logs when the door to his office opens abruptly. Felix glares over at the intruder, but he's not especially surprised by who it is. Most people don't have the balls to barge in on him like that. To be fair, Sebastian doesn't either, but he also seems to think they're friends.

"Felix," Sebastian greets breathlessly, shoving some of his long hair out of his face. "Mr. Jones—"

"I know," Felix grunts, slumping back in his chair. "Institutionalized. Kinda glad I didn't join that betting pool, I figured he was just taking an impromptu vacation." He pinches the bridge of his nose, sighing, endlessly frustrated by this whole mess. It throws all of his plans right into the toilet. He knows Jones, but will he know the successor as well? He's focused most of his information-gathering on his boss, with only mild dips into the lives of the rest of the C-suite. To have to start over…

"I think they're finally going to actually address it," Sebastian says, walking further into the room. "The execs have some guy with them, I think he might be the one taking over."

Felix drops his hand to stare at Sebastian, brow furrowing. "Some guy? I thought one of them would be taking over. Adams or something."

"They're showing him around like he's important," Sebastian offers with a little shrug. "He looks like he's our age."

Now that's interesting. Off the top of his head, there's exactly one person Felix knows who's in the same age bracket as them and would be in a position to take over the company. That doesn't make any sense, though. People can lie, sure, but that terrified little pipsqueak at the company party had sounded very sincere when he said he didn't want to get involved. There's literally no reason why he'd be a better fit than any of the other executives. Jones kept them all at arm's length, but in a corporate sense, they all worked fairly close together. Why give it off to his kid?

"Where are they now?" Felix asks as he drags himself to his feet. Maybe he's wrong. Maybe it's some other young guy.

"Just kind of touring the top floor," Sebastian says, fidgeting with his tie. "I actually saw them in the elevator, that's why I came all the way up here…"

"And here I thought you only came here to bother me." Felix walks past him, poking his head out of the room to scan the nearby area. For an executive assistant, his office is pretty far away from the CEO's, but that was on purpose. Jones may have agreed to his terms, but he's been trying to keep a distance between them ever since.

"What are you going to do?" Sebastian asks, following close behind as Felix starts heading in the direction of the executive offices.

"Need to see who it is, and adjust according to that," Felix replies in a huff. "I didn't put all this effort in just to have some fucking nobody upstage me."

Sebastian struggles to keep up with his pace, trying to stay close to his side. "This could be good, though, right? If it's a nobody? You can control the company through him, if you do what you did to Mr. Jones. Maybe it'll even be easier."

It's all so stupid, isn't it. This lust for power over a company that doesn't really matter. It was only ever a game, but now Felix has been at it too long, and the thought of giving up and walking away makes him grind his teeth. Who knows? Maybe he'll take over entirely and run the company into the ground himself, just for some closure.

It's not long before they come up on the group. Felix gestures for Sebastian to stop, hanging back at the corner of a hallway to watch the executives talk to their guest. Sure enough, it's Matthew Jones. The younger one.

"Unbelievable," Felix mutters.

"Who is he?" Sebastian asks, but Felix doesn't immediately answer, too focused on his target. He's certainly dressed down from how he was when they met. An open button-up over some graphic tee, jeans that are clearly too long for his legs and had to be rolled up several times, and sporty sneakers. He looks so out of place it's not even funny.

He looks a lot more relaxed, too, smiling up at his new staff with tired eyes, shoulders slumped and hands in his pockets. Is he even actually listening to them? Does he understand any of it? He was a lot more alert at the party, but he also acted like a trapped bunny rabbit at the party. A prey animal on guard for the nearest fox. Now, he seems perfectly at ease.

"Can't you tell?" Felix eventually scoffs. "Looks just like his dad, only twinkier." He turns away, marching back the way they'd come from, and after a moment Sebastian hurries to catch up to him again.

"That's Mr. Jones's son?" he asks incredulously, starting to sound a little out of breath from trying to match Felix's pace. "Where are you going?"

"Back to my office. I have some shit to look into." Felix shoots Sebastian a sharp look. "And maybe you should go do your own goddamn job. I don't need any help."

Sebastian makes a sad noise, but it hardly sounds especially severe. "I could help, though. If you need—"

Felix turns back to him once they've reached his office. "I don't. Get lost." He shuts the door in Sebastian's face, knowing full well that this won't really change anything. The guy's practically an Olympic gold medalist in not taking a fucking hint. He's useful sometimes, or Felix would have just gotten rid of him by now.

"Okay!" Sebastian calls through the door. "I'll, um, update you if I hear anything else!"

Felix rolls his eyes, yanking his chair away from his desk to flop back down into it. This won't take long, at least. He hopes. Matthew was already scared shitless of him before, and he's got no real presence in this company yet. He'll be easy to coerce. Still, Felix likes to be thorough, and Matthew has inconvenienced him enough that he wants to enjoy tearing him down.

Better get to work.

---

Within a few days, the new ownership is announced. All the top floor employees are gathered to properly meet Matthew, and it's there that Felix starts to get a strange feeling about all of this.

"Matt, please," he says as he shakes someone's hand. "Mr. Jones was my father."

The employee laughs, trite though that joke is, and Felix narrows his eyes from a few feet away. Does he go by Matt? His father never addressed him that way, whether in the abstract or to his face. Dads are just like that, though. Or at least that behavior would make sense for his own.

He keeps insisting on Matt, even when one of the executives does actually address him as Matthew. One of the ones Jones was closer to, Adams. Felix finishes his paper cup of shitty cooler water before deciding now's the time to make his entrance.

"Ah… Mr. Carter," Adams reluctantly greets as he nears. "Matthew—"

"Matt," Matt corrects again, endlessly patient. It's honestly kind of bizarre how zen he is about all of this.

"Matt, this is Felix Carter. He was your father's assistant." Adams gestures loosely his way. "I suppose he's yours, now."

When Felix holds his hand out, and their eyes meet, there isn't so much as a hint of recognition on Matt's face. It's almost a red flag in and of itself, with how it stands out. There's no way Felix didn't leave an impression last time. Surely Matt didn't just forget?

"Leftie, huh?" Matt observes with a smile, taking Felix's hand. "Nice to meet you."

There's something different about his grip. It's got to be because he's not visibly dreading this entire interaction, but Felix can't shake the sense that something's not right here, and that only adds to it.

"Second time, actually," he offers as he shakes Matt's hand. "That company party at the end of last year?"

Matt blinks slowly, tilting his head just a little as he appears to consider that information. There's something almost sluggish about the way he moves. Tired, maybe? The dark circles under his eyes suggest as much.

"Oh, right," Matt says, eyes lighting up a little. "Right, yeah, I remember now." He takes his hand back, slipping it into his pocket once more. "You came on a little strong, didn't you?"

Felix narrows his eyes. Is Matt high? Is that it? Got stoned before coming here? His eyes look clear, though. Just drowsy. Is he more confident now because they have an audience? That can't be it. They had an audience last time, too, and he was still on edge.

"Yeah. Guess I did." Felix puts his hands in his own pockets, mirroring Matt's relaxed body language. "We'll be working together a lot, huh? You probably need an assistant more than your dad did."

Matt gives him a look that's evaluative, but not necessarily suspicious. He seems vaguely interested more than anything. "That's probably true. This whole business thing isn't really my forte…"

Adams puts a hand on his shoulder, glaring daggers over at Felix. "You have a lot of help already, son. Don't worry too much about him." Before Felix can object, Matt is gently steered away, being guided to the rest of the C-suite having some discussion not too far away. Christ, Felix knew the fuckers didn't trust him, but Jones never let them direct him in anything. He was easy to isolate.

This is going to be frustrating. Felix straightens his tie before turning the other way, deciding to head back to his office for the day. He just has to approach this more methodically.

---

"Hey, Matt. Have a second?"

Matt looks up from the sandwich he's eating with some mild interest, still with the appearance of someone who's simply too tired to be here. Felix offers him a small wave. "Carter. From the other day?"

"My assistant," Matt affirms, wiping his mouth with the heel of one palm. "What's up?"

Felix sits down across from him, leaning on the table and folding his arms. "Feel like we didn't really get to know each other before. Those executives all have sticks up their asses, Adams especially." Matt doesn't laugh, taking another bite out of his sandwich while keeping steady eye contact. Felix drums his fingers on the table. "Right, uh… I wanted to ask you some things about yourself."

"Mmhm," Matt hums, presumably in agreement. Felix isn't actually sure that he's not high, regardless of how his eyes look.

"See, I was doing a little research, and I saw some interesting things," Felix begins, starting to gain his footing. This is familiar territory. "You've lived quite a life, haven't you?"

This is the part where Matt is supposed to look unsettled, wary about Felix's intentions. Instead he takes his sweet time with his mouthful of food, finally addressing the vague threat after he's swallowed: "If you say so. I think it's been pretty boring."

Felix stares at him as Matt takes another bite. Where the fuck did that skittish little bunny from the party even go? There's no one else in the break room. It's just them. This is supposed to be Felix's opening, his way under Matt's skin.

It's fine. He's dealt with more frustrating people.

"You graduated college years ago, but you seem to still be in contact with your old history professor," Felix presses. "Something happen there?"

Matt blinks.

"It's just odd, I think," Felix goes on, faux-casual. "The sort of thing that makes you suspect you two have some… History?"

Tilting his head, Matt gives Felix a look that's all but devoid of anything meaningful. "Is this work-related?"

"Wh…" Felix leans back in his seat. "No? No, I'm… Alright, fine, that wasn't the only thing." He pulls his phone out of his pocket, quickly scrolling through a list of notes he's been working on. "Your parents divorced when you were only twelve. You majored in forensics but you were doing freelance computer shit before you came here. You still lived with your dad, for fuck's sake—You're just kind of a sad-sack, aren't you? It's no wonder the execs won't let you do anything."

"Hm."

Felix narrows his eyes. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It's just interesting," Matt says with a shrug, finishing his sandwich. "It does help, though. Thanks."

Felix sits up straighter as Matt drags himself to his feet. "Wait, what? Helps with fucking what?"

"Don't worry about it." Matt yawns, patting Felix's shoulder as he passes. "Thanks for the talk, Calvin."

Felix turns sharply in his chair, glaring at Matt's back as he walks away. "You did not forget my fucking name! What the fuck is up with you?! Are you on drugs?"

Matt stops, glancing back over his shoulder with a placid expression. "Huh? I'm just tired. S'a lotta work, doing all this business stuff. Y'know?" He continues on his way, waving without looking back, and then he's gone.

What the fuck.

---

The next several days don't go much better. Even when Felix manages to get past the other executives, Matt dodges everything Felix throws at him like it's nothing. Or maybe it's less that he's dodging and more than he's not doing anything—He's oblivious to the game they're both a part of, unaware that he's playing it at all. It's infuriating.

Felix wants to think he's an idiot. Surely that explains Matt's spacey ignorance of the threats he's receiving, the intimidation levied his way. That's easy to believe for a little bit, but in trying to squeeze his way past Matt's troupe of bitter middle-aged guards, he starts to notice something a little surprising.

One of them, Donaldson if Felix recalls, instructs Matt on a task that needs doing to appease the investors breathing down their necks now that Jones is gone. Matt frowns, looks sheepish, averts his gaze and professes to having no idea how any of this works. Frustrated, Donaldson says he'll get the process started, and as he walks away Matt's posture changes. The shame, the nervousness, it's gone. He runs his hands down his face, pats his cheeks like he's trying to wake himself up, and walks right past Felix without so much as a sideways glance.

Another time, Adams is asking Matt about something that's changed in their records. A reallocation of funds, the sort of thing the C-suite discusses first. Felix watches from around the corner as Matt furrows his brow and says one of the other executives instructed him how to do it. Said it was important, would help them prosper. Following Adams when he marches over to his colleague's office, Felix finds that no such exchange took place. Before they can continue their hunt, the other man reluctantly informs Adams that it was a good idea. Whoever told Matt to do it, they were onto something. Their finances suddenly have a little breathing room.

When Felix presses Matt for details, he's told (with a pleasant, relaxed smile) that Matt knows nothing about how any of this stuff works. He calls Felix the wrong name again when he walks away: Carver. At least it's closer.

Things like that keep piling up. Matt plays dumb, acts oblivious, but things around the company start changing. The executives seem to think they're the ones in control, using Jones' son as a figurehead under which to do as they see fit, but Felix is starting to doubt that they're right. Matt had referred to himself as tech-savvy or something all those months ago, hadn't he? Is he just effortlessly going under all of their noses and letting them take the credit?

It's an interesting idea, but even approaching it from that angle gets Felix absolutely nothing. Some days Matt gets his name so wrong that Felix has to assume he's being confused for someone else lest he tackle his boss to the floor in front of everyone. Every inquiry is sidestepped, every attempt at blackmail met with an expressionless look or even a shrug. Felix hates this. He hates it. He can't puppet Matt the way he was hoping, and if he's right about Matt actually doing something of a similar nature, it's not likely to happen now. Maybe his blank refusal to play Felix's game is just a part of his own plans.

The idea that he might be a pawn in all of this is what cements Felix's course of action.

---

"I did what you asked."

Felix looks up from his computer to see Sebastian standing nervously in the doorway. "Did you? They're all gone?"

"They think there's a meeting in the lower conference room," Sebastian confirms, clenching and unclenching his hands at his sides. "Um, Felix? Why are you—"

"There's a note on the projector that says the meeting's organizer will be there soon," Felix explains coolly as he pushes himself to stand. "So when all the top-floor bigwigs get there, they'll wait so patiently for someone who doesn't exist to show up and start talking." He strolls over Sebastian's way, looming over him when Sebastian doesn't move. "They'll assume it's one of the executives, but wouldn't you know it, they all left for the day."

Sebastian shrinks a little. "L-look, I know you've, um… taken care of some people before, but the CEO…?"

Felix exhales slowly through his nose. For such a lapdog, Sebastian seems to have an annoying sense of morals.

"Why not the CEO?" he scoffs as he turns away to return to his desk. "Our new one is a pest. He's not making my job easy, so I'm going to fire him from his." Sebastian opens his mouth to speak, then snaps it shut when Felix pulls a gun from one of the drawers. "Now tell me something, Seb. You're not gonna be a problem for me, are you?"

"No," Sebastian says quickly, backing out of the office. "N-no, of course not. I would never… Just be careful, okay Felix?"

Felix snorts out a short laugh as he heads to the door. "Careful of what? You already shooed away the witnesses. Am I supposed to worry about that tiny little twink shooting me first?"

Sebastian looks up at him with wide eyes as Felix stops next to him. "No, just… I don't know. I guess I have a bad feeling."

"A bad feeling, huh." Felix casts his gaze down the halls, in the direction of the CEO's office. Matt's office. The truth is, there's one other thing he's noticed in all his attempts to get closer, but he's been disregarding it. It seems like just a trick his mind plays. Or maybe Matt is one of the Others, the people who aren't people that work on various floors of the building. Most people don't seem to see anything off about them, but to Felix, they feel a little intense to be close to. Sometimes their eyes flash unnatural colors.

That's what he swears he saw Matt's do, too. A little glimmer of gold as someone he was speaking to turned away from him.

Even then, that's no reason to stop. The Others can be killed. Felix knows they can, because one of them got in his way once. The body was gone before he could dispose of it, but it had been a body. He always makes sure his victims are really dead.

"Listen to me," Felix mutters, pointedly disengaging the safety on his pistol. "I've never lost anything before, and I'm not going to fucking lose now. And if you jeopardize that for me—" He levels the gun at Sebastian's forehead, watching the color drain from his coworker's face. "—I will put you down like the miserable fucking dog that you are. Get me?"

"Gotcha," Sebastian whimpers, staring into the barrel. Really, including him necessitates his death anyway. That's an annoying sort of loose end. The only thing that stays Felix's trigger finger is that Sebastian has been unwaveringly, pathetically, desperately loyal. He's useful. It would be a shame to lose a tool like that.

"If anyone comes up the elevator, distract them," Felix says, lowering the gun. "Can you do that for me?"

In spite of everything that's just happened, Sebastian still perks up at the idea of a task. "Y-yeah! Yeah, I can do that. Um… Good luck?"

Felix turns around without another word, marching in the direction of his quarry. Luck is a funny thing, really. With more time maybe he'd have said as much. There've been dozens of times in his life where he could have been caught doing horrible things, and he never was. Bodies he didn't fully dispose of that were never found. Backdoors into sensitive information that were never patched even when his hacking was still sloppy. The night his brother got too loud, begging him to stop before Felix wedged several fingers in his mouth, no one came running despite everyone being home. It's always been this way. If luck is a real, tangible thing, Felix has it in spades.

With everyone gone, the floor is eerily quiet. Felix had made sure repeatedly that Matt was still here before sending Sebastian into action, and unless he was somehow alerted to the fake meeting and also left, that should still be the case. This will be easy. It's always been easy.

Why is Felix getting a bad feeling now?

Sebastian just planted the idea in his head. It's nothing. Felix has made the necessary preparations, he'll be fine, he just needs to go in and get this done and then wait out the inevitable storm that will come in the wake of another CEO loss. Matt is weird, and he's clearly smarter than he lets on, but that doesn't mean he's going to anticipate this.

Outside the door to Matt's office, Felix retrieves the silencer for his pistol from his pocket and attaches it. Empty floor or no, he has no doubt people below them would be able to identify the sound as a gunshot at full volume. This way he might have more room for plausible deniability. He's always gotten away with these things, but that's no reason to be reckless; killing some nobody from a cubicle and killing the company's leader are two very different tasks. The less he gives people to notice, the better.

Carefully opening the door, Felix peers in to see what appears to be an empty room. Before he lets out any swears, however, he realizes Matt just isn't where he'd expected him to be—past the desk and chair, and past a few shelves and cabinets, Matt is standing in front of one of the tall windows on the far wall with his back to the rest of the room. Felix steps further inside.

The office already looks different than it used to. Jones kept everything neat and clinical, an office above all else, but Matt seems to have injected a little more life into it. The bookshelf that had seemed like more of a decoration than anything before is now packed full with books of all sizes. There's a couch along the wall the door is on, something Felix spots in his periphery as he eases his way deeper into the room. There's more clutter on the desk, an expensive-looking modern laptop, and a mug that seems to have words on it. Matt certainly gives off more of a human vibe than his father did. Jones was like a machine, cold and calculating, disinterested in cultivating a positive perception of himself to anyone but the shareholders.

Felix finds the contrast interesting, but it's nothing more than that. Were he capable of being endeared to people he'd probably have more of a social circle than one single guy who never leaves him alone.

Matt seems distracted. His hands are folded at the small of his back, his posture mostly relaxed, and for a moment it's easy to believe that maybe he is anticipating this. Any moment now, he'll turn around slowly like some sort of Bond villain, reveal that he'd prepared for this, that the building's security guards are already outside the room. It's a stupid thought.

Eventually, he does turn. Just a little. He glances back as Felix gets perilously close, and there's no recognition in his eyes, no smug satisfaction. They widen, in fact, as Felix presses the silencer to his temple.

Glass is easier to clean than carpet, at least, Felix thinks to himself as he squeezes the trigger, a spray of blood and viscera shot out the other side of his new boss's head coating the window Matt had been standing in front of. He crumples to the floor, certainly soaking the carpet with some of his skull's insides, but the worst of it still streaks down the glass. Felix tilts his head, observing the familiar sight of dull, vacant eyes before allowing some of the tension to bleed out of his limbs.

In its wake, a familiar desire: a sort of burning urge to take advantage of the lifeless body at his feet, to find out exactly how it feels when nothing is capable of responding. When it's all cold and sticky and limp. The smell of burnt skin and hair, the consequence of shooting at such close range, clings to Felix's senses as he briefly allows the desire to wash over him. He won't, because he can't. He's on a bit of a time limit and needs to leave behind as little evidence as possible. Still… It's something he's fantasized about since he first discovered those snuff sites when he was a teenager.

It's time to get to work. By the time the fake meeting is given up on, it'll be time for most, if not all, of the top floor employees to go home. The first order of business is to go lock the door. After that, Felix can do some preliminary cleaning up before grabbing the proper supplies he'll need from the janitor's closet a floor down. By then he should be fully alone. Matt can be disposed of in any number of ways, but Felix was thinking—

A short, sharp huff of a laugh freezes his blood in his veins.

The body, the corpse of the man he very much just killed, is moving. Matt plants a hand on the carpet, practically clawing at it, and starts to push himself up. Felix gains just enough of his bearings to aim his pistol at Matt's head again, assuming (past the nauseous fear flooding his entire body) that he just didn't do the job right the first time. Only…

Only the wound on this side of Matt's head is actively closing. Stitching itself shut. Shards of skull and ruined hair simply regrowing, slotting back into place as Matt draws himself up to his full height. It's a short height, still, and he's still in casual street wear that doesn't fit this job at all, and Felix is begging every part of himself to just stop being afraid of whatever the fuck is happening, but it's no use. He's rooted to the spot.

Matt's smirking. His eyes are gold now, no flashes and delusions but gold, shining on his face with little slivers of snake-like pupils inside. There's something blindingly bright behind his head, a sharp ring of gleaming spikes that cast the rest of him in shadow. There's still blood on his face.

"Very bold of you," Matt purrs, and when his lips part there are sharp fangs there, nothing like the slightly crooked teeth he's supposed to have. "I'm actually a little impressed."

Felix tries to speak, but the words won't come. He tries to raise his gun, but it hangs heavy in his trembling grip. He tries to think, but it's all just a cacophony of disbelieving horror in his mind, an endless loop of trying to understand what he's seeing and failing. The Others can't do this. The Others don't have halos, either.

Matt tilts his head. His eyes are magnetic, drawing Felix in like whirlpools, trapping him right where he is like a prey animal with nowhere to run.

"Get back to work, Mr. Carter."

Suddenly Felix feels like he can move again. He turns on his heel, stumbling out of the room without looking back, heart beating so hard and fast that he swears he's going to be forced to vomit it out onto the floor just to escape the drum of it in his throat. What the fuck. What the fuck.

He needs to leave. Escape this place, get on his bike and ride as far out of this city as possible. Maybe out of the state. Maybe he should leave the country, hop the northern or southern borders, whichever he can make it to first. His bike is powerful, with enough fuel he could probably make it in a few days. Or weeks. Or who cares.

Felix finds himself in his office, panting on the other side of his door as if leaning against it will keep anyone from getting inside. He could jump out the window, maybe, or make a dash for the elevator, or hide under his desk, or…

He's never lost before. He can't lose now, either. That part of him snarls up through his heart, sinks its teeth into his brain. Is he really going to run? Is he really that afraid? Yes, I am, he thinks, because sometimes fear is the healthiest response someone can have. It's a survival instinct. Yet as rational as that is, his pride struggles against it, thrashing like an ensnared animal. Matt just ruined his plans. Matt just ruined everything, Felix's perception of the world included. If nothing else, he deserves answers.

Besides—If Matt wanted to kill him, wouldn't he have done it already?

Chapter 4: Catch and Release

Summary:

For the first time in his life, Felix faces true consequences for his actions.

Notes:

this is where the gross shit starts, be advised :3

another felix pov but chapter 5 will be back to matt. i'm steadily sorting all the existing details of their story so i can properly plan this thing out; chapter 5 and 6 i have fully planned but i need to organize some events before 7 happens. i'm having fun though!

There's a knock on the door a few minutes later.

Felix stops the pacing he's been doing by his desk, staring over at the door with ice in his veins. He wants it to be Sebastian. He's begging for it to be Sebastian. When the door opens without him saying anything, for a moment he's sure it will be.

It's not. It's Matt, looking more like Felix is used to him looking, save for one thing: the sinister smirk on his face.

"I think we need to have a little chat, Mr. Carter," he says in a low voice, shutting the door behind himself. "About your behavior."

Felix takes a step back, bumping into his desk. The silencer he'd removed in all his anxious fidgeting audibly rolls onto the floor. "You're not Matthew, are you," he accuses, grip tightening on his gun even knowing that it's useless. "You're something else."

"Very astute," Matt(?) snorts. "And let me guess: you think I'm one of the demons?"

Felix moves the opposite way as Matt(the thing in his body?) starts to circle him, hands folded behind his back. "No," he says, finding it hard to believe that the Others are just "demons", but he's not sure what else Matt(not a demon, clearly) could mean. "No, they're not like you. They don't get back up."

Matt(what else is Felix supposed to call it?) grins at him, his teeth perfectly ordinary. "Oh-ho? You've done this before, huh? Guess that's obvious. You clearly planned this all out, top to bottom. Even had someone watching the elevator for you."

Felix grimaces. "Did you kill him?"

They continue to circle each other, steps slow and measured, Matt looking for all the world like he's having a great time. "No, there was no need for that. I just wiped his memory."

"Wiped his…?" Felix stops where he is, and to his surprise, Matt does too. "The fuck do you mean?"

"You have a lot of questions for someone who's in mortal peril," Matt observes, cocking his head. "I erased this day from his mind, told him to go home. You should thank me, really. He might have asked why I was still alive otherwise. Wouldn't that be embarrassing?"

Felix does his best to not glance in the direction of the door. He's closer to it, now, and if he plays this right, he can make a run for it if Matt tries to hurt him. He still doesn't intend to lose to this thing, but he's feeling less and less like this specific confrontation can possibly go his way.

"So it was all a trick?" he asks. "The sleepy behavior, forgetting my name, playing like you're actually Jones's son…"

Matt straightens his posture a little. "Oh, no, those were real. Well, I am assuming the boy's identity. But I was also tired. Do you have any idea what an energy drain it is, conforming to a new body? I'm a lot bigger than this, you know. It's a lot of work."

Bigger…? Felix narrows his eyes. "And forgetting my name?"

Matt blinks. "Oh, you've tried to talk to me before. Sorry, I only just caught up with all the personnel files today, now that my body is settled. Your ID photo is in yours. To be frank, I barely remember the past two weeks."

Of course Felix finally lost his patience when this thing was lucid again. That's… Well it's not just his luck, is it. His luck is usually so much better than this. How could he fail so hard this time?

"So, what… this is all some ploy for power?" Felix presses, gesturing with his gun. "What's your game, here?"

Matt smiles with a little amused sound. "Oh, that's just it, isn't it. It's a game. I'm having fun." He starts to move again, and Felix goes to move the opposite way, but their eyes meet and suddenly his feet won't budge. "I have power in abundance, Mr. Carter. I hardly need more."

His eyes—they're gold again. Gold and… orange, and black, and a lot of things, and powerful tugging whirlpools.

"What… What are you doing to me?" Felix asks in a low growl, breathing faster as panic starts to sink back into his body.

"Now, here's the thing, Carter," Matt sneers, stepping closer at a leisurely pace. "You've done something very bold today. Very stupid. Much as I admire your moxie, no foul deed goes unpunished."

Felix swallows thickly. If he's going to go down, he may as well go down swinging. Or at least that's what he tells himself as adrenaline courses through his body with no outlet. "So what are you gonna do? Kill me? Torture me? The fuck do you even get out of this?"

"Amusement, mostly," Matt says with a shrug. "And you've got it all wrong, Mr. Carter. I'm not going to kill you." Felix finds his eyes drawn to Matt's left arm as he slowly lifts it, curling his hand into a fingergun. With mounting horror, he realizes his own left hand is following the motion, real gun included. He'd honestly expected more banter.

"W-wait," Felix chokes out, trying to move, but nothing in his body will respond to his commands. Even his gaze seems directed by an unseen force, kept on Matt's hand as he turns it and presses two fingers to his temple. Cool metal touches Felix's own, and he can feel tears streaking down his cheeks as the muzzle of his pistol digs into his skin. "Wait, no, I—You don't need to kill me."

"I'm not," Matt says coolly, eyes hooded as he watches Felix's face. Maybe they're not whirlpools so much as they're black holes, drawing Felix inside, crushing him into nothing. The word please hovers on the edge of his tongue.

"You are."

---

The world is ringing, everything fuzzy and indistinct, and for a moment the only thing Felix can think about is the metallic taste coating the back of his tongue. It fades, though, and so does the ringing, and he wearily turns his head to immediately be blinded by something far too bright.

"You shoulda seen your face," Matt snickers. "Terrified out of your fucking mind. You're cute."

Felix squints up through the light, gradually realizing that it's that pointed halo again, gleaming behind Matt's head and casting his face in shadow. His eyes glow almost as vividly.

Felix is on the floor. Matt is hovering over him, kneeling too close for comfort, and Felix tries to make words work as his mind catches up to where he is. He's pretty sure he just shot himself. He remembers the sound, the explosion of sensation before it all became nothing. How…?

"Surprised, Mr. Carter?" Matt asks with a sharp grin. "Don't be. Mind control isn't the only ability I have. I could have left you dead, of course, but I'll be honest with you: You seem fun. Humans with your kind of guts are rare."

Felix frowns, tilting his head a little to escape the light of Matt's halo—but then it's gone, zapped out of existence as his appearance returns to "normal".

"You… brought me back?" he croaks.

"Yes. Not before admiring how you looked with your brains splattered across the carpet, though." Matt gestures, and Felix turns his head, but there are no brains on the carpet. There's not even any blood. "It's all back in your head now, where it belongs."

With a shuddering breath, Felix props himself up on his elbows, expecting Matt to move and maybe realizing he shouldn't have when it just brings their faces a lot closer together. Gears turn as he considers the situation, tries to make sense of it. What is Matt? An angel of death? Between the halo and the resurrection, that's the only thing Felix can think of. He didn't know angels existed.

Well, Matt's nothing like the ones they talked about in church.

"So, what, you don't actually want me dead?" Felix ventures, cautious, everything still feeling a little off-kilter as he adjusts to whatever the fuck just happened. Matt killed him, or at least forced him to kill himself. He was dead, and now he's not, and he'd never before thought that death was reversible—

"Not right now, at least," Matt muses. "Not before I've had my fun with you." Felix doesn't get the chance to ask what that means before Matt's eyes flick down the length of his body, brows raising as his smile turns a little more smug. "That's interesting. You're already having fun, I see."

Right. As all the sensations in Felix's body reorient themselves, he can absolutely feel his cock straining against the fabric of his slacks. It's honestly not his fault. After a lifetime of craving pain as much as pleasure, enjoying death and the bodies it leaves behind, he can't help but feel a little worked up about the idea of being slaughtered and then getting to enjoy the fact that it happened. He's never really wanted to die, too invested in his own power and worth, but to have his cake and eat it too…

The boner might also be a little bit about Matt, but Felix is ignoring that part as best he can. So threats and intimidation are a little sexy. So what. He barely likes living people at all, let alone a guy. Or a thing that looks like a guy.

Any lingering dregs of post-resurrection brain fog are dispelled in an instant when Matt roughly palms Felix's cock. All of his filthy fantasies and porn habits mean nothing in the face of this being the first time someone else has actually touched him. The strangled sound he makes clearly only urges Matt on, and with few other options and a dose of mounting panic, Felix weakly kicks at him.

Matt laughs.

It's a mean sound, sharp and loud, like it doesn't matter if anyone hears them. And it doesn't, does it? Felix's gun wasn't silenced. Everyone is gone, Sebastian included. No one will hear anything that's about to happen.

"Stupid boy," Matt sneers. "Actually thinking you have any power here." Before Felix can think of a retort, Matt adjusts his position to stand, reaching down once he has to grab big fistfuls of Felix's work shirt. There's simply no way—he's too little to actually pick someone up who's at least a foot taller than he is.

Felix yelps as Matt does exactly that, yanking him to his feet before just as quickly slamming him down on his desk. He plants a foot on Matt's chest, intending to shove him away, but it's like trying to move a brick wall. Matt grins as he puts a hand on Felix's inner thigh and shoves his leg aside.

"You're fucking kidding me!" Felix shouts, terrified, trying to pull himself away and being held in place by hands gripping his belt. "How many fucked up things are you going to do to me?!"

"It's cute that you'd ask," Matt croons, undoing Felix's belt like it's the most natural motion in the world. "Honestly, you should be grateful. I could do a lot worse than fucking you."

Confirmation, then, and a spike of fear that cuts through Felix's body to go along with it. For a moment he'd almost thought his luck had prevailed—after all, he didn't really die, allowed to return to life in spite of his grisly demise. Now he's just going to be raped on top of everything else.

(He's still hard. That doesn't feel good.)

"What is up with you?!" Felix cries, putting his other foot on Matt's shoulder even knowing now that it's no use. "You're some kind of, of—some kind of fucking angel-god-thing, how the hell is this even worth your time?"

Matt pauses for just a moment, looking up at Felix from under his lashes. Then he yanks Felix's slacks down, underwear along with them. "So close, sweetheart. I prefer 'Godking.'"

Struggling is pointless. Felix tries anyway, never one to simply roll over and take things, but Matt succeeds in removing his pants from one leg (the shoe on that side also getting yanked off in the process), and then he stops worrying about Felix's state of dress entirely, shoving his bare leg well out of the way with one hand while the other presumably undoes his own belt.

"Funny that you'd ask about my interest in this," Matt muses, and when Felix tries to sit up to properly shove at him or pull himself back on the desk or something, the hand on his leg moves to his chest to slam him back down. "You can see it, can't you? Why it'd be fun? You're so scared. I like when my meals fight back."

Meals? Felix can't even properly worry about that before Matt braces an arm across his sternum, effortlessly pinning him, and something warm and firm is pressed against Felix's ass.

He doesn't even get through the first syllable of the word stop before Matt is forcing his way in, seemingly unbothered by the friction, the resistance. Felix throws his head back with a pained shout, digging his nails into the arm keeping him down like maybe if he tries hard enough he can claw his way out of this. Matt doesn't budge.

It hurts. Felix has put himself through a lot of pain voluntarily, but this is different. This isn't exactly the same kind of pain he's experimented with in getting himself off. It's ripping tearing searing pain, lining up neatly with the burning humiliation in his gut. He sobs, and it feels like his nails are drawing blood, but Matt seats himself to the hilt and then draws out too fast, clearly unbothered. More pain.

"Oh, come on, don't go soft now," Matt sighs, and Felix reflexively kicks again when he feels a hand on his cock. "It was so funny that you were still hard. You like this, don't you? Being hurt?"

"F-fuck you," Felix gasps, bringing his heel down hard on the small of Matt's back. No response.

"I'm not even going to make the obvious joke there, it's too easy," Matt scoffs. He's insufferable. He talks like this is nothing, like he's not even getting off on it even as he fucks into Felix hard enough for agony to rip through his entire lower half. Arching away from the sensation, still pinned by Matt's arm, Felix refuses to look as he feels his assailant lean in closer.

Better go out swinging, he thinks to himself, nigh-delirious, as tears run back into his hair in steady streams. He lifts a hand to push at Matt's face, then slides it down, blindly cinching around his throat. It doesn't matter. Of course it doesn't. He digs his nails in, squeezes as hard as he can, and the strangest thing is that even though Matt is somehow too strong too be pushed, his muscles and tendons still give way under Felix's grip.

He hears teeth click together, feels Matt's breath hot on his neck.

Then Matt draws back. He coughs, sharp and forceful, and Felix finally looks at him only to be blinded by his halo again. The thrusts stop, for just a moment, and beyond the glow that casts his face in shadow, Matt's expression almost seems uncomfortable. There are dark bruises on his throat where Felix had been choking him, but as Felix watches, they gradually fade away. Slightly-raspy breathing evens out again. Matt fixes him with a curious look as the halo and yellow eyes disappear, and Felix has no time to parse that before he's fucked into again.

"Feisty," Matt murmurs, leaning closer but not as close as before. "You've got so much fight in you. Every moment, from shooting me to now…" Felix glares up at him, teeth bared, tears still running down his face. How can he sound so contemplative while he's still doing this?

The bruise, though, the implication of what he briefly did, Matt's momentary lapse in composure—of course he's back to full hardness when Matt strokes up his length again.

"And somehow enjoying this," Matt continues, thoughtful. "You're fascinating."

Felix throws his head back again when Matt's pace quickens, and he can't even keep track of his own sounds as the sensations get too intense to bear. He's screaming, but it feels distant. He keeps clawing, keeps kicking, bites his lip so hard he can feel the skin split when Matt's deft fingers actually coax an orgasm out of him.

He's not sure what he expects. For Matt to come too, presumably. To shame him further by making a mess of him. Yet just as Felix thinks that must be happening soon, the hand that had been on his cock moves up to wrap around his throat.

He doesn't make it through a full thought on the matter before Matt's grip tightens like a vice. Felix hears something crack, a deafening sound that swiftly becomes the only thing he's even still aware of.

Then nothing.

---

There's a lot less ringing this time. Felix stares up at the ceiling for a long moment, trying to form coherent thoughts, slotting his sense of reality back where it goes. It doesn't take as long as it did before.

Slowly, he props himself up on his elbows, grimacing down at his mostly-naked lower half. He can absolutely feel cum dribbling out of his body, a sensation he's never felt before and already thinks he doesn't really enjoy. The pain, though—it's all completely gone.

Matt's already got his belt re-fastened and stands not too far away, idly checking his phone. Or… wait. That's not his phone, is it.

"Do you mind?" Felix croaks.

Matt doesn't immediately respond. When he does, he steps closer to the desk, handing Felix's phone back to him. "You should put a lock on that. Seems reckless, no?"

Felix looks at the screen, then up at Matt. "Why the fuck did you bring me back a second time?"

"Oh, that." Matt folds his hands behind his back, taking a few meandering steps away. "You should make yourself decent, Mr. Carter."

When nothing else is immediately forthcoming, Felix narrows his eyes, then sits up all the way to get his slacks back on both legs and shove his phone into his pocket. His own mess isn't on his shirt or stomach—was it all on Matt's hand? If it was, it's not there anymore. Felix slides off of the desk, stumbling a little before catching himself and getting everything back where it goes.

"I wasn't going to let you leave here alive, honestly," Matt muses.

Felix glances over his way, pausing in the middle of refastening his belt.

"You'd make a great example, you know? If I needed one. You're certainly not the first person who's tried to assassinate me." Matt looks over at Felix again, then smirks. "Don't look so surprised. No one here, don't worry. This is hardly my first human life."

"You do this a lot, then," Felix mutters.

Matt raises one hand, tipping it back and forth in a so-so gesture. "Reasonably often. It's free entertainment."

Felix scowls. What was it Matt had called himself? A Godking? "So why are you letting me live?"

Matt's smirk grows into a grin. "Oh, isn't it obvious? You're fascinating." He approaches Felix again, nudging his lost shoe towards him with one foot. "Many men have tried to kill me, and they've all failed. You did too. But the way you responded to that failure… to your punishment…"

Bendng over to pick his shoe up, Felix leans back against the desk as he slips his foot back inside. His heart is racing, but for the moment it's easier to pretend he's calm. "Find it hard to believe that no one's ever fought back, sir."

"Oh, many have. The thing is, though, the way you humans are…" With no warning, Matt grabs Felix's tie, yanking him down to eye level. "You're not prey animals by design, but you know when a predator is breathing down your neck. Most lock up. You were obviously afraid, and yet…" Matt stares into Felix's eyes for a moment, then tilts his head. "I could use a toy, you know. A pet. I usually set one aside per run in a new body. You seem so fun."

Felix frowns, then swats Matt's hand off of his tie, surprised when it actually works. "No thanks."

Seemingly unbothered, Matt smirks again, his expression like that of a smug cat. "Here, let me make you a deal. I'm going to let you go."

Narrowing his eyes, Felix folds his arms over his chest before responding. "What's the catch?"

"You only have two choices," Matt replies, holding up one finger. "One, you never come back here. Quit this job, leave this city, escape the reality I'm inflicting upon this company. Or…"

Felix tightens the cross of his arms. "Or?"

"Or you return," Matt continues with a sly little smile, raising a second finger. "Submit yourself to my ownership. If I see you here again, I'm going to assume you're willing to be my plaything."

Of course. There's some kind of mind game here, the exact sort of thing Felix usually inflicts on others. Abandon everything you know or give in to my demands is all too familiar. If Matt actually believed he'd just walk away, the offer wouldn't be presented, but Felix is being given a "choice" just to tempt his stubbornness. This Godking knows what he's doing.

(Christ alive, that sounds so pretentious. He would honestly hate Matt on principle even without all the rape and coercion and being an annoying fucking obstacle.)

"The choice is yours to make, Mr. Carter," Matt says as he folds his hands behind his back. "I'm interested to see what you do next. Me, I'm going home."

Felix watches him return to the door, internally debating if he should ask what home is when this thing obviously doesn't identify as human or even actually the person he's imitating. Before he makes a decision, Matt glances back over his shoulder. "The reason I killed you again, by the way, was to mend the damage I'd done to your body by forcing myself on you. Consider it a gesture of goodwill."

Felix stares at him for a moment, then frowns. "Really now. It wasn't because you just wanted my muscles to cinch up the moment I died?"

"Oh, that's such a brief thing," Matt titters, looking extremely amused. "Although I suppose I did come as soon as that happened. Well, both reasons can be true, don't you think?"

He leaves without any further commentary, shutting the door on his way out, and Felix stares at the place Matt had been before taking a deep breath and letting it out in a heavy sigh. He'll have to pick his gun up off of the floor, along with the silencer, wherever it ended up. Make sure Matt didn't do anything weird to his phone. Maybe give himself a look in the bathroom mirror before he heads down to the parking garage, see if anything has meaningfully changed now that's he's been killed and resurrected twice. Before he begins any part of that process, however, he needs some time to sit on the floor and try to digest everything that just occurred.

To be fully honest, he has no idea if his luck held up here or not.

Chapter 5: Round Two

Summary:

This really is all just a game for Matt, but least Felix is fun to play with.

Notes:

sorry for the wait!! (wow this fic actually has fans... that's so cool...) this chapter took a while to finish, but now it's here! things are slowly picking up speed and also matt gets the spotlight again.

i love these guys so much and i'm glad other people are enjoying their terrible story!

---

"You seem to be feeling much more lively now, Mr. Jones."

"Please, let's stick with Matt," Matt corrects for what feels like the millionth time this week. It's never really been like this before. He's frequently altered the names of his vessels, made his own mark on their identity, but few people ever had issues with that. Maybe they were confused, sometimes, or a little reluctant to switch, but apparently corporate settings just have different rules.

Adams sighs, long and low, like this is some burdensome task being thrust upon him. He seems to think that way about most things. "We have a certain level of professionalism that we try to stick to here, you know."

Matt hums, pretending to consider that, and picks up the overpriced sugary coffee he bought from the shop down the street. It's frankly too sweet, and too artificial, but there's something fun about that. Human consumables have changed a fair bit since he was ingesting them last. "I could call you by your first name," he offers, speaking around the straw. "Gerald."

"Please don't," Adams deadpans, and Matt sips his drink too loudly just to annoy him.

The break room on the top floor is fairly lavish, especially compared to the others Matt saw while he was being given a tour. There's plenty of space, the chairs are all comfortable, they frequently get catering, and the fridge is stocked with ingredients and premade meals. It figures that people with more importance in the company get access to finer things. Matt's never actually participated in a real job before, but his vessels often had memories of such, all of them with different opinions on the matter.

Matthew's memories of this building are all overwhelmingly negative. He'd never worked here before, but apparently his father had offered a position repeatedly, on top of trying all manner of things to make the idea more enticing. Like that party at the end of last year. Matt had to sift through a lot of things to find that memory, and now that he knows where it is, he can feel just how aggressively Matthew hated it here. At least no one seems to be aware of the discrepancy between that and how Matt behaves now.

Well, one person knows, sort of. He appears to have paid more attention than anyone else here ever did, and he only met Matthew once.

"Now, Mister… Matt, there were some things I wanted to go over," Adams says, but that's when Matt glances up to find that they're being approached, and any interest he had in listening goes out the window (not that there was much to begin with).

"Felix!" he greets excitedly, and he watches Carter's steps slow, his expression change from determination to discomfort. He's already so fun to play with.

"Oh, for the love of God," Adams mutters under his breath. "What does he want?"

Matt sets his drink down and folds his arms on the table. "He's my assistant, sir, he probably wants to assist." Adams seems unconvinced, and rightly so. Matt smiles up at Carter as he arrives at the table and stops behind a chair on the other side. "G'morning. It's nice to see you again."

Carter's eyes narrow. "Likewise," he says, and for all the contempt in his gaze, he's actually pretty decent at keeping his composure otherwise. "Can we talk?"

"We were busy, actually," Adams says coldly, but Matt waves a dismissive hand at him. "We can go over that stuff later," he insists, picking up his drink again. "We have time, sir. I wanna talk to Felix."

The resentment rolling off of Adams is palpable, but he doesn't argue. No doubt he's going to go try to manage things on his own, anyway. He very much seems to think he can run this company himself. Maybe he can, and maybe in another life he would have, but he has so much less power now than he thinks he does. Matt waves when he stands up and leaves without another word.

Carter watches Adams go, then gives Matt a suspicious look before sinking into the chair opposite him. Matt smiles, endlessly pleasant, sipping his drink as he stays aware of where Adams is. Once he's gone, and everyone else in the room isn't anywhere close to paying attention, he drops the act.

"You came back," he observes with a smirk. "I knew you would."

"Of course you did," Carter growls, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms. "That wasn't a real offer."

"Wasn't it?" Matt sips his drink again, then sets it aside to clasp his hands on the table. "I would have let you go. Knowing you're too stubborn for that doesn't mean it wasn't true." He tilts his head, regarding his would-be assassin carefully. "You're not going to agree to be my toy, are you."

Carter rolls his eyes. "Wow, figured that out yourself, did you? In what fucking world would I want that?" He leans forward, uncrossing his arms to jab one finger into the table. "I came back to tell you that I'm going to kill you."

Matt raises both eyebrows. Bold statement, and unusual for a human who's been exposed to his true nature. "Oh? You failed last time. What makes you think you won't again?"

"You're not actually a God," Carter spits. "There is a way to kill you. I'm going to find it, and I'm going to take you down."

Raising his arms at the elbow, Matt laces his fingers under his chin, watching Carter with interest. "You sound so sure about that. Both parts, even."

That seems to give Carter some reason to feel smug, if the smirk on his face is anything to go by. "Godking, right? The only records of an entity who was worshiped with that name, consistently, are all from defunct old cults that all believed roughly the same thing. Some terrifying so-called God they had to make exorbitant offerings to for prosperity, or whatever the fuck. I don't know exactly what you are, but I know a conman when I see one."

Matt lets out a short little huff of a laugh. "So you believe that means you can find a way to kill me? Whatever I actually am?"

"Unless you kill me first," Carter says.

Incredible. Matt's revealed himself to humans before, of course. Presented fractions of his true nature in response to dissenters and attempted assassins. Their fear was intense, rendering them helpless more often than not. None of them ever interested him enough to want to keep. Given the choice, they'd flee as far as possible, although some tried to warn their loved ones and merely got the entire group killed as a result. Matt had suspected Carter was different, and that's why this game is still going at all, but to see him be so self-assured…

Most of it's a bluff, though. Matt's known too many humans now to not know their tells. Carter is unusual, but he's hardly unique.

"Come on, walk with me," he says, pushing himself up from his seat.

Carter watches him as he steps around the table, leaving his drink behind. "…What?"

"Walk, talk, y'know," Matt explains with a little twirl of his wrist, glancing over his shoulder. "You can walk and talk at the same time, can't you?"

Carter grumbles something Matt can't hear, but he does eventually follow.

Adams isn't lurking like a vulture outside of the break room, at least. Chances are he has marched off to try and establish his control over the company in his own way. Matt turns in the direction of the executive offices, and Carter keeps pace easily, his legs much longer than this body's own. That could be changed, but Matt's enjoying the novelty. The top of his head is level with Carter's shoulders.

"You're fun," Matt says as they walk across the floor. "I like your confidence. The cross section of humans as bold as you and humans who are in any way likely to find out what I am is typically nonexistent. There's something dark about you, too. Your willingness to so quickly resort to murder…"

"Is there a point to this?" Carter grunts, clearly annoyed.

Matt glances up at him. "Of course. The point I'm making is that I'd still like to play with you."

The scowl on Carter's face is dripping with disgust when he angles his head down to meet Matt's gaze more directly. "I'm not going to play with you, angel boy. We're enemies."

"It's cute that you think you have a choice," Matt sneers. "Enemies, rivals, opposing forces, isn't it all just a game in the end? That said…" He gestures in the direction they're headed, towards his office. "Are you up for round two?"

Carter's steps falter, but Matt doesn't wait for him, continuing on his way without pause. Carter catches up again a moment later. "Round two, as in…?"

Oh, pathetic little thing, he's not hiding his interest well. "Sex," Matt clarifies with a smile. "You've got an impressive cock on you. I had fun doing my own thing, but you can see how little this body is. It'd be a tight fit. That's fun, right?"

They reach the office, and Matt stops at the door to look back at his companion and is met with an expression tied between befuddlement and desire. It figures, really. There are many humans on this planet with little to no interest in sex, but for those that are interested, swaying them with offers of it is rarely difficult. One need only choose the correct approach. Carter in particular has proven himself to have some rather… specific tastes. Offering a tight hole was hardly a gamble, and it already seems to have hooked him.

"What's the catch?" Carter finally manages to ask. That seems like it might be a recurring query.

"Nothing new," Matt replies with a shrug. "Standard warning that you're fraternizing with something far beyond your comprehension, and you're inherently at risk as a result, but I think you already knew that."

He lets himself into his office, leaving the door open behind him for Carter to close on his way in, smirking to himself when that's precisely what happens. Hopping up to sit on his desk, he crosses his legs and clasps his hands over one knee, watching his new toy stand somewhat awkwardly by the door. Is this just a response to an unusual request? Matt has his doubts. He's never one to pass up a deflowering opportunity, though.

Carter, to his credit, isn't jumping right into the chance. "What do you get out of this, exactly?" he asks, eyes narrowed. Matt can't help the laugh that escapes him in response.

"Really, now, Carter. That question went so well for you last time." The reminder makes Carter grimace, shame just barely visible under how angry it makes him. "Regardless, my answer remains the same. Amusement." Matt uncrosses his legs, then crosses them the other way. "Sex is fun for me, you know. These bodies were made for it. While I'm human I may as well indulge."

With an aggravated sigh, Carter finally begins to approach the desk. "This doesn't change what I want to do."

"And why should it?" Matt pulls his legs apart again, leaving them spread this time as he lazily undoes his belt with one hand. "So you want to kill me. An admirable goal, if unrealistic. I'm under no delusion that sex will sway you from it. If it did, you'd be far more weak-willed than I thought, and no longer worth my time."

"So you'd kill me for good," Carter concludes flatly. "How many times have you done this?"

Matt plants both hands back on the desk once Carter is standing between his knees. "What, this specific dynamic? Not very many. If you mean played with humans, I don't know. I've lost track." He nudges Carter with one leg, earning an annoyed grumble before rough hands grab the waistband of his jeans to yank them down. "Here, I'll throw you a bone. I've had humans let me down countless times. Promises of challenge or amusement that fell through, left me wanting. I do kill over that. It's frustrating."

Carter doesn't leave Matt's pants on at all, tearing them off entirely to toss aside, shoes included. He must still be bitter about yesterday. He pauses there, though, looking down at the underwear that remains with clear confusion on his face.

"Something on your mind, Mr. Carter?" Matt teases.

"You're not…" Carter stares a little longer, then glares up at Matt as he resumes the forceful disrobing. "You want me to make you hard, or something?"

"I'm plenty ready to go," Matt snickers. "Look again, sweetheart."

Carter doesn't manage to finish getting Matt's underwear off, halting in his tracks to look utterly bewildered. Matt sighs, over-dramatic, and shifts his position to get them off the rest of the way himself. "Honestly, I'm worried about your eyesight if you still thought there was something else," he quips, tossing the article aside before leaning back on one hand. "Something wrong?"

"You fucked me," Carter insists, accusatory. "You—I know you had a dick."

"I did." When Carter glares up at his face again, Matt smiles, lifting his free hand and splaying his fingers. Carter stumbles back in surprise when the skin of Matt's hand changes texture and shade, jet-black and chitinous, as his fingers turn into segmented claws. "Please. You've seen my teeth, haven't you? My eyes? You really think I'm bound to this form?"

He doesn't want to give the wrong impression, of course. Imply that there's a true form he's hiding, something concrete and consistent. As Carter stares at his claws, Matt leans forward, shifting his other arm into a long tendril from the elbow down. Extending it out to wrap around his companion's waist and yank him closer earns a startled yelp.

Carter loses his balance, slamming his hands down on the desk to catch himself, effectively boxing Matt in. "There we go," Matt croons. "Take a little initiative, would you?" He returns his arm to normal, tilting Carter's chin up with one sharp claw before returning that hand to a human state as well. "I'm a shapeshifter. This body is my vessel, not my prison."

Clearly still rattled, Carter swallows thickly, a bead of sweat rolling down his jaw. His cock is visibly straining against his slacks when Matt glances down. "So you… You used that to give yourself a pussy?"

"Why not?" Matt tilts his head. "I prefer masculine bodies, as that aligns with my own identity, but there are conveniences to be found with both binary genitals, you know."

"I don't know," Carter growls. "Fucking—Whatever, I don't care. It's a hole."

"You're so interesting," Matt muses as he watches Carter undo his belt with a shaking hand. "Do you even care that I'm something you don't understand?"

Their eyes meet again, Carter's even darker than usual. The brown they are is so deep as to be black in most lighting, but now it's like looking into a void, something brimming with lust and contempt in equal measure. "I will understand you," Carter mutters. "You think I'm not committing this to memory just because it's fucking weird? Like I'm disregarding it as pointless?" Matt glances down again when he feels the head of Carter's cock drag through the heat of his cunt, forceful and a little clumsy. "You're not a demon. You call yourself Godking. You're a shapeshifter, and you can bring back the dead, including yourself. You're—"

His breath catches when he actually starts to sink inside, and Matt's lips curl into a smirk. "Easy, darling, you don't have to prove anything," he purrs, reaching up to cup the nape of Carter's neck and drag him a little closer. "I already know you're serious."

"Shut the fuck up," Carter snarls, leaning down far enough to brace one arm on the desk, his other hand squeezing Matt's hip bruisingly tight. "You don't take me seriously."

Matt allows himself to lay down all the way, lazily hooking his legs around Carter's waist as he's fucked into. Uncoordinated, aggressive, would probably be painful for another human; Matt adjusts the shape of his insides, allows room for Carter's frankly too-large cock to fit snugly inside of him. The man is absolutely a virgin. It's kind of cute.

"Why should I?" Matt drawls, clasping his hands behind his head and watching Carter with hooded eyes. "You're interesting, Carter. Not special."

There's a hand around his throat before he even registers that Carter has let go of his hip.

"I am not your toy," Carter seethes, snapping his hips forward hard enough to jostle the entire desk. "I'm not some fucking thing here to amuse you." His fingers are tight as a vice, nails digging into Matt's borrowed flesh, cutting off the body's natural airflow. His thrusts haven't stopped—on the contrary, they're faster now, erratic and vicious.

Matt grabs Carter's wrist, but doesn't shove him off. For all his power, he's still bound to the laws of human biology if he's not intentionally shifting away from it, and the lack of oxygen is quickly making him lightheaded. He's pretty sure Carter's nails are drawing blood, too.

"So—If I won't respect you," Matt wheezes, grinning, "you'll force me to?"

Carter shoves his head back, his grip like iron, crushing without remorse. "Shut your fucking mouth," he spits, a murderous sort of intent laying thick under his words.

Matt claws at his wrist, just enough to confirm that Carter really doesn't plan to let go. At the same time, he tightens his legs, drawing his companion in as deep in as he'll go. "Make me," he chokes out, grinning still as an unbidden thread of saliva drools from the corner of his mouth. "Sh-shut me up, Carter."

He's expecting that to be enough. It would be so easy; all Carter has to do is break his neck. Obviously he wants to. Yet much to his own surprise, Matt feels Carter's grip falter, hears his breath catch and stutter as he holds his trembling hips tight against Matt's body. Ah. Of course.

After a moment of wondering if Carter might kill him anyway, Matt sighs and pries the offending hand off of his throat with one rough tug. Carter is panting and glowering at him when he props himself up on one elbow, wincing away when Matt's halo flashes into existence as his flesh repairs itself.

"Really thought you'd go for it," he muses.

"Like it would even fucking matter," Carter mutters. "You'd have just bounced back and laughed at me."

"Oh, you wanted to, though," Matt presses. "And you could! Free of consequences. But that's why you came, isn't it? Because you were about to kill me."

Carter makes a disgusted noise in the back of his throat, then shoves Matt's legs off of him before pulling out. "I don't need to justify myself to you," he says, gaze very obviously on the mess he's made.

"You must be experiencing that… Hold on, what's the term?" Matt combs through his body's memories, humming to himself as he sways one thigh back and forth. He can feel Carter's cum dribbling out of him, and he's sure Carter has a great view of it, too. "Post-nut clarity?"

Carter's eyes snap back up to Matt's face as his expression contorts into a grimace. "Ugh. You say that like you're way too old to be saying it."

"The body is only twenty-nine," Matt says with a tilt of his head.

"And you talk like a vampire from the middle ages." Carter steps further away, tucking himself back into his slacks and re-fastening his belt. "He said he was twenty-eight when I met him."

It's an oddly conversational statement. Matt sits up, leaning forward to locate where his pants were thrown to before looking over at Carter again. "Surely you found his birthday in all your digging?"

"Probably. I don't remember." Matt watches Carter methodically tuck his shirt back into his pants, mending his slightly-casual office boy look like it was never out of place to begin with. "Doesn't matter now, anyway."

There's no care in his words, nor any regret. There are no feelings for Matthew at all. The recollection of his age, then, is surely nothing more than a byproduct of Carter's thorough information retention. Matt casts his thoughts back into the sea of his body's memories, wondering what more he can personally dig up from their previous interaction.

"Do you, like… expect me to do anything, here?" Carter ventures, a little awkward, interrupting those thoughts. "You're just fucking sitting there."

Matt stares for a moment before he realizes what he's being asked. "I suppose I could order you onto your knees," he says. "Make you clean up your mess. You'd look good like that, actually."

"Ugh. Why are you still making it about me?" Carter mutters, looking almost flustered past the irritation. "You're the one who didn't get off. Figured you wouldn't let that stand, your majesty."

"I've had sex with more people than you've met in your entire lifetime," Matt scoffs, sliding off of the desk before bending over to retrieve his discarded clothes. "Orgasm is fine, but it's not the only reason I indulge in this, nor have I reached it every time. Besides…" He smirks up at his companion, stretching his underwear between both hands. "Why reward you with the satisfaction? You can earn it some other time."

The contempt is back full-force as Carter glares down at him. "I don't need rewards from you," he hisses, adjusting his tie before heading for the door. "This was a waste of my time."

"Was it? I'd assume a guy like you would enjoy losing his virginity," Matt says.

Carter stops by the door to look back at him in startled anger. He's actually blushing this time, just a little bit. "Excuse me?"

"I'm not stupid," Matt chuckles, leaning back against his desk and setting his removed clothes aside. "Of course, maybe I stole it last time, but I know what sort of man you are. Penetration and being penetrated are their own class of thing, no?"

Carter stares at him a moment longer, then bares his teeth before wrenching the doorknob to the side. He's clearly humiliated. Is it about the virginity itself, or the fact that he was so bad at sex that Matt could tell? "I don't fucking need this," he seethes on his way out.

"Hey, don't get me wrong, you weren't bad for a virgin," Matt calls after him. Carter doesn't respond, slamming the door hard enough to partially dislodge a painting hung on the wall. Matt watches it swing on the fixture that remains, then looks back at the door when it manages to stay put. Such a temper Carter has.

He cleans himself up and gets dressed again, idly wondering about what the future holds. Carter will surely be even more determined to kill him now, but his ability to do so is extremely limited. Matt has no intentions of revealing how it can be done, nor does Carter have any access to the necessary tools. As with most games, this will be meaningless fun until Matt grows bored, and then he'll stop being Matt altogether and leave this life and body behind. This run has thus far been unique, a brand new puzzle to tackle with all new skills to learn, but he has no expectation that the novelty will last forever.

He never lets his toys survive after he's gone either. It's a shame, really, especially in this case, but Carter is just so interesting. Matt could never allow him to belong to anyone else after this.

With that particular altercation done with, Matt resumes what he's been working on since he adjusted to his new body: cementing his control over the company. Computers weren't around the last time he'd been in a human body—they were conceptualized, in a sense, but not fully realized—but for all his own ignorance, Matthew knew all about them. His memories and expertise have come in handy several times over already. It's trivial to weave his way through the company's servers, gathering information and changing things along the way. He wants to have control down to the root of this place. Did Jones even know how smart his son was? (Maybe. He did keep trying to get Matthew to work here, after all.)

A knock at the door a few hours later disrupts Matt from his task, drawing his attention away from his laptop. Adams? Or perhaps one of the others? Certainly not Carter, the knock was far too polite. "Come in," he says.

The moment the door opens, the vessel starts responding to the new presence. Matt narrows his eyes down at where the hairs on his arms are raising, then closes his laptop to give his guest his full attention. It's a man, tall and broad, with tan skin and a perfectly tailored suit. Matt doesn't recognize his face. The way the air feels, he doesn't think he's supposed to.

In fact, it's hard to really commit the face to memory at all.

"Mr. Jones," the stranger greets as he shuts the door, and for once Matt elects not to correct the name. "I was hoping we could have a discussion."

Matt watches him for a long moment, then pushes himself back from his desk to stand. "Of course. Curious, though—I thought none of you could stand to be near me."

The man lazily adjusts the cuffs of his sleeves. The challenge Matt's giving him is met in kind, casual and unafraid: "Most can't, no. I'm not most."

Interesting. He's clearly one of the ones who aren't usually on the surface, but past that, Matt can't say he really knows what he's dealing with. As much as he's loved tormenting the demons over the past many eons, he's never had much cause to go down below and into their Underworld proper. It's a lot of extra work for something with the barest potential to be dangerous—not that he'd ever admit such.

"To what do I owe the pleasure, then?" Matt asks, circling his desk to approach his guest. "I don't think your kind have made contact with me in some time, now."

"We've not needed to. You've kept to yourself… To your cults." The man meets his eyes, or at least it feels like that's what's happening. "Last time we sought you out was after you'd finished your little extinction event."

"Oh… right. I remember that," Matt says with a pleasant smile, slipping his hands into his pockets. "So, what? Here to thank me for eliminating the competition?"

There's a chill in the air, and not just a tangible one. The vessel is still responding negatively to the hostile presence of it all. Matt can hold his ground fine, he's had to do this before, but it's really quite fascinating; for all his control, there are still some things about human bodies that he can't change. Their aversion to reality alteration is one of those things.

"You're out of your jurisdiction, Godking," the man informs him, venom just under the relaxed surface of his tone. "The fate of this company and those it has ties to are already in our hands."

It would be all too easy to laugh in his face. To remind him, as he surely knows, that the Godking does not fall within their hierarchy… but the fact that he already knows means he's pressing the issue for a reason. He's clearly one of the important ones, likely tapped into their collective hivemind or whatever it is that allows them to share memories the way they do. It's been ages since Matt cared enough to try and figure them out.

"I suppose you think I should feel threatened," Matt says dryly. "Not knowing what I am has never been an excuse for assuming I can be manipulated. I'm beyond you, and you know it."

The man folds his hands behind his back. It's a position Matt knows well, one that exudes authority and a lack of fear, no desire to protect vitals while standing confident and tall. "Whatever you are, you're starborn. Even the stars can die."

Matt shifts his weight from one foot to the other. It seems he may have made some incorrect assumptions about how much they pay attention. Not that it matters, really. He hasn't exactly hidden the fact that he's a cosmic entity. It's just interesting, is all.

The man continues on without waiting for a response. "We will find ways to harm you, if need be. We can and will drive you out of our territory. You've been allowed to play your games for this long because you've kept out of our way, but you need to remember something."

Matt tilts his head. "And that is?"

"This planet is ours. You're nothing more than a tourist."

That earns a small snort. "Of course. And what makes you all think I can't do the same thing to you that I did to your old friends?"

The man turns away, heading back for the door. "They didn't know you were coming," he says icily. "Make your decision, Godking. We'll act in turn."

For the second time today, someone with clear intent to do harm to him exits his office, but at least the door isn't slammed this time. Matt watches the space where the demon had been for a moment, then crosses his arms over his chest and gives the situation some proper thought.

No, he hears Carter's voice say in his mind, trembling with a fear he's trying to suppress. No, they're not like you. They don't get back up. He not only knows about the demons, but doesn't even seem to be afraid of them. Matt wonders if his usefulness might extend past mere amusement.

It might be time to make some alterations to his plans.

Chapter 6: Deal

Summary:

Felix has questions. More importantly, Matt has a proposal.

Notes:

this is a complete rewrite of a oneshot i wrote for the same scene months ago. i'm way happier with the new version! i did borrow basic elements from the original, and it's still the same general event, but a lot of stuff has changed and been added.

---

Felix stares at his computer screen, resting his chin on one raised hand, not really focused on anything in particular. None of this work really matters. It didn't under Jones, and it sure as shit doesn't matter now. It's like his whole job has been turned into some bullshit waiting game, one part reconnaissance and one part sitting on his ass. At least before he knew exactly what he was doing.

It's been a week since Matt really engaged with him.

It shouldn't matter. Felix made his plans clear, Matt belittled him for it, nothing more needs to be said. So what if some false god doesn't take him seriously? Felix will just force him to, when the opportunity arises. He's been continuing his research. There's always more to find, between obscure blog posts and passages in books about religious history. Iterations of Matt's "religion" span the globe, all surviving texts essentially branding it a death cult, and clearly after his followers died in his name he just fucked off to go start a new cult somewhere else. What a freak. Felix has no idea why he thinks running a company is more interesting than that, but there's no way he isn't planning something.

Not like Felix plans to stop him. No, the only thing that matters is proving to this weird parasite that he isn't better. He's going to regret letting Felix live, one way or another.

When his office door opens, every muscle in his body goes rigid, but it's not Matt now any more than it has been the rest of the week. Sebastian leans in and Felix lets out an exasperated sigh, body slowly relaxing. "The fuck do you want?"

"Well, it's just—it's lunchtime, you know, so I thought…" Felix narrows his eyes, and Sebastian raises a hand in defense. "I just mean you've been in here all day! You should probably take a break."

"I don't need your help taking breaks," Felix says, annoyed. "I'm busy. You think I don't know how to feed myself?" Sebastian starts to stammer some sort of deflection, and Felix sighs, running a hand down his face. It doesn't fucking matter. What does matter is one of the only reasons he keeps Sebastian around at all. "Look, why don't you go bother someone for me?"

Sebastian perks up a little. This is a typical request, something he excels at—people are more willing to respond to him because he's so stupidly nice. "Who is it?"

"That bitch in accounting—Howell, or something. She's got a lot of knowledge about…" Felix trails off, realizing Sebastian is looking at him in clear confusion. "What? You know who's in accounting, don't you?"

"Well, yeah, but…"

"Stacy, I think," Felix clarifies, gesturing loosely with one hand. "Stacy Howell. Real cunt, she's always blown me off when I tried to get info from her." Sebastian looks a little uncomfortable, and Felix groans, growing more irritated by the second. "Loosen up, it's not a big deal."

"N-no, that's not…" Sebastian nervously shifts his weight. "I don't know who that is. Are you sure you have the name right?"

Felix scowls. "What? Of course I do. She's—Fuck's sake. Short bitch, red hair, always has a ponytail?"

Sebastian slowly shakes his head. Bewildered as much as he is angry, Felix pushes himself to stand, stalking across the room. "You're joking. She's important over there. That's your department, dipshit, you see her all the time."

Sebastian shakes his head again, averting his eyes. "I'm sorry, Felix, I don't remember anybody like that. Maybe you've got the department wrong…"

Felix opens his mouth to berate Sebastian for saying stupid shit, then hesitates. Something about the specific wording sets him on edge.

"…Have you seen Matt recently?" he asks.

Sebastian blinks up at him in evident surprise. "Oh, um… Was I supposed to tell you about that?"

"Just tell me now," Felix growls.

"He swung by our department yesterday," Sebastian admits, fidgeting with his hands. "Gave some short talk about how we were doing a good job. He's—I know you hate him, a-and I get it, but he's really charismatic. I see why everyone's so taken with him."

Felix clenches his jaw, considering that for a moment before stepping past Sebastian to look out into the hall. He was pretty determined to not start anything if Matt was just going to ignore him, but this? Not only is it an inconvenience, it's an oddity. He wants to know what the fuck is going on. Why wipe the memory of an entire person from her coworkers? What did Matt do?

"Hey, where are you going?" Sebastian calls after him as Felix starts walking out of the room.

"Lunch," Felix says, heading towards the executive offices.

He's pretty sure a few other people see him barge into Matt's office, but he doesn't really care. Matt glances up from where he sits at his desk, apparently having been doing something on his laptop, and the way his face lights up makes Felix feel like throwing up. "Just the man I wanted to see!" he enthuses.

"Cut the shit," Felix snaps, closing the door too hard. "If you wanted to see me you'd have made it my problem."

Matt smiles at him, awful and pleasant and just a touch malicious, and pushes his chair back from his desk. "Oh, but I did, didn't I? You hate being ignored. Of course you were going to barge in here eventually."

Felix wants to strangle him.

It's only as Matt begins to approach that Felix realizes he's not dressed in his usual Matthew Casual. Quite the opposite, even—he's in a full formal getup, from his shiny dress shoes to the black waistcoat over an impeccably tailored shirt and matching tie.

"The fuck's the formal wear for?" Felix asks, gesturing loosely as Matt stops in front of him. "It's not exactly helping you pass as Jones's loser kid."

"You say that like anyone here actually knew him," Matt snickers, adjusting his tie with one hand. "Rest assured that it's not an issue. Adams thinks I'm finally shaping up, in fact. It's great."

"But why?" Felix presses with a scowl.

"Because this is my fashion taste," Matt says with a roll of his eyes. "Now, speaking of company politics, there was something—"

"Hold on," Felix cuts him off, holding up a hand. "I didn't come here to listen to you talk. What happened to Stacy Howell?"

Matt regards him with intrigue for a moment, then folds his hands behind his back and tilts his head. "Did you know her? That's surprising. How many people do you keep tabs on?"

"Answer the question, Matt," Felix growls.

Somehow that also fails to get him what he wants. "Ooh, I like that," Matt says with a little grin, bouncing on his toes. "So few people will actually say it, you know, it's strange—Like they really can't accept that I want to be referred to that way. When you say it, though…"

"Is there a point to this?" Felix snaps, agitation growing by the second. "What the fuck did you do to Howell?"

"I like being Matt, is all," Matt titters. "This is fun. You know? Oh, it's been a while since I enjoyed an identity this much."

With a frustrated snarl, Felix grabs Matt by the collar of his dress shirt, dragging him slightly up off of his feet to bring their faces closer together. "Why the fuck does no one remember her?! Answer the fucking question!"

Matt seems perfectly unfazed, watching Felix with hooded eyes and a sickeningly smug smile. "Why do you think no one remembers her, Carter?"

Felix throws him back, watching Matt stumble briefly before too easily regaining his footing. "That's why I'm here, jackass, I know you did it. Now tell me why. Where is she?" He watches Matt dust himself off, then adds, "And if you killed her, why the fuck did you also make people forget her?"

"I presume you're asking that because you've never had access to making people forget," Matt says calmly. "And how did that go for you? Only ever feeling secure enough to kill nobodies?"

A spike of furious indignation cuts through Felix's body. "I was going to kill you," he points out.

"Yes, and if you had, it would have been the only high-profile murder you've ever committed," Matt says, folding his hands behind his back again. "I suspect you intended to clean up the mess. Cover your tracks. You must have, or even your nobodies would have been found." He tilts his head, watching Felix with sharp eyes. "They'd have never found me. Perhaps never found any evidence, either. You'd have gotten away with it, but the sense of unease and fear surrounding a missing person's case for such an important figure would have permeated the company. Surely they'd have suspected you, whether or not it could be proven. And had your friend from accounting squealed?"

Felix opens his mouth to say Sebastian wouldn't, then closes it again. He actually can't guarantee that. Sebastian may be stupidly loyal, but between his morals and pushover nature—not to mention knowing that Felix had done it—he might have been coerced to talk eventually.

"So what are you getting at?" Felix asks, crossing his arms. "You just killed some bitch on a whim and covered your tracks with weird magic? Because you could?"

"Like that isn't why you kill people," Matt scoffs. "Does it interest you, though? The possibility? The idea of killing indiscriminately and getting away with it consequence-free?"

Felix narrows his eyes. "You're a fucking multi-millionaire or something, if you have Jones's money. You could have done that without mind powers."

Matt laughs. It's a mean sound, but unfortunately not an unattractive one. It's actually kind of unfair that the guy has the sort of voice he does. "Perhaps, but that's far more effort. Why cover up when I can just erase?" He pulls his hands back around to his front, taking a few steps closer to Felix. It's hard to resist the urge to back away. "But I asked you a question, Mr. Carter. Does it interest you?"

"Why?" Felix shoots back, wrinkling his nose. "You want me to act impressed?"

"I want to make you an offer, is what I want," Matt says. "I'm rescinding my previous declaration, but only if you agree to the new one."

Felix stares at him. "Wh… You mean you're taking back the toy thing?"

"Only if you agree to be my partner," Matt confirms with a grin.

He turns on his heel to return to his desk, leaving Felix staring at the space where he was, then at his back. "What? The fuck do you mean, partner?"

"In a business sense, Mr. Carter, don't get too excited," Matt says, and before Felix can bite back at him about it, Matt waves a hand back in his direction. "Sit, sit. I'll explain everything."

Felix shuts his mouth hard enough for his teeth to audibly click together. With a heavy exhale out of his nose, he tries to gather himself, then turns his head to look over at the plush couch against the wall. That's probably where Matt intends for him to go. Part of him wants to remain defiant, but unfortunately, he is curious about what Matt means. (Maybe he's also all too aware that defiance has gotten him nowhere so far.)

He drops himself down against the cushions, stretching his legs out across the carpet as he waits. "Your couch is made for hobbits," he remarks dryly when Matt starts to head his way again, laptop held in both hands.

"Mm." Matt pauses for a second, clearly thinking, then snorts. "Oh, right. I see what you mean. Well, it's not my fault you're a giant."

"So you obviously have Matthew's memories," Felix observes, tensing up as Matt sits right next to him, too close for comfort. "But you can't access them right away?"

"They're separate from my own," Matt explains, opening the laptop on his knees. "Like a data bank that I have to access every time I'm looking for something. Of course, I can remember what I've found there, but none of it comes naturally, no." Felix leans a little closer to try and see what Matt's doing on the screen. "Like when you met him. I've dug through those memories and can recall them on my own now, but recalling the fact that he's a fan of the series you just referenced? I had to look for that."

Felix squints at the screen, watching as Matt opens documents and spreadsheets on his laptop. "What is all this?"

"See for yourself," Matt says with a little smile back at him, and then the laptop is on Felix's knees instead. He gives Matt a wary look, then leans forward, steadying it with one hand as he navigates everything Matt opened with the trackpad.

The longest document is titled with the name of the company. The very first page is a meticulously laid out profile with all the available company data on Adams. His ID photo, his employment records, his health records, his history with the company in particular… As well as a short bullet list of observations, some marked as being Matthew's recollections of him. Felix recognizes most of what's here. Sure, he's never done a ton of research on the guy, but he has made his way through all the company records of the C-suite before.

As he scrolls down to the next profile, Matt adjusts his position on the couch to drape himself on Felix's shoulder.

"Do you mind?" Felix growls, shooting a glare at his companion. Matt has both hands clasped over his shoulder, chin resting on top of them, and the impish smile on his lips suggests he doesn't mind at all.

"Keep reading," Matt instructs, and as much as Felix wants to shrug him off, he gets the sense that it won't do him any good. Frustrated, he returns to the document.

Donaldson's profile is much the same, and it continues on in that fashion. After the rest of the executives, there's a page titled Felix Carter, and Felix's blood runs cold. He's not used to being an object of surveillance himself. Sure, a lot of this is what he already knows is on record, but…

Matt moves even closer, rising up on his knees, and Felix's heart rate spikes sharply when warm lips press into the side of his neck.

"Hey—"

"Keep reading," Matt breathes against his skin.

The observations indicate that Matthew was terrified of him. Good, Felix thinks, though it's hardly a surprise. Matt's personal notes are far different. They're about the way Felix carries himself (a faux presentation of casualness hiding an unwarranted confidence), the way he interacts with others (restrained false politeness unless he's trying to intimidate, wherein his behavior ranges from a sinister cockiness to outright threats), his intelligence (far beyond that of his peers but clearly not utilized in office work), his sexual prowess (huge cock, pathetic virgin), and his clear intentions for the future (intends to stop at nothing to find out what can kill Matt, annotated as being "cute, if misguided").

"Is this supposed to make me hate you less?" Felix asks, voice faltering on the last syllable when Matt licks a heated stripe up his neck.

"Don't be so self-centered," Matt purrs, one hand circling around to cup Felix's jaw. "There's a lot of other things for you to look at."

Face hot, Felix swallows thickly before turning his attention back to the laptop. The other profiles matter less, he thinks, but he searches the document for two others. First, Sebastian. He's in there, but Matt's notes are far shorter, indicating only that he's loyal to Felix and seems like a doormat. Not untrue. The other profile Felix jumps to is that of Stacy Howell. It's there, with all the information Felix expected, except for one thing: The ID photo is gone, replaced with a red X. Matt has already altered this document to reflect whatever he did to her.

Felix bites his tongue when Matt nips the skin just below his ear, then starts to suck on it. He should really try harder to stop this. (He's never experienced anything like it before.)

Right. One of the other documents, then.

There's a detailed list of company processes in one of them. The things all the staff on the top floor are tasked with, a backstory on the company's purpose and output, Matt's own tasks and expectations as well as all the things the CEO is meant to have access to. A breakdown of the other departments and their functions. The names of all the supervisors.

Matt's hand leaves Felix's jaw, slowly roaming down his front until he reaches Felix's belt. The way he plays with the buckle suggests he doesn't actually intend to undo it, and Felix grits his teeth as Matt's lips move lower on his neck.

There's a spreadsheet of company finances. All of them, from salaries to expenses to the costs of maintaining the building. Notes about where to allocate funds and how to get more are scattered throughout. Not only do the C-suite usually discuss these things, but it isn't even their department that actually handles most of the money. Matt seems to have every intention of doing just that. He did before, as Felix recalls, but to be this hands-on about it…

Matt's hand moves lower, and Felix can't help the little hiss that leaves him when his half-hard cock is palmed through his slacks. Somehow, he gets the sense that this isn't a necessary part of Matt's proposal. Or maybe that's naïve of him. Maybe the sex is absolutely a part of it.

"What is all of this?" Felix asks, mentally kicking himself for the way it comes out in a pant. He feels pathetic.

"Don't think I haven't taken note of all your skills," Matt murmurs, lifting his head to speak directly into Felix's ear. "You're useful, Carter. Intelligent, discreet, ruthless, equipped for all manner of tasks…" He squeezes Felix's cock, now fully hard, thumbing up the side as Felix bites his lip hard enough to bruise. He's surely making a terrible mess in his boxers. "I meant the partner thing. I could use your human viewpoint, you know. And maybe also your talents."

"And—And I'm supposed to believe that's it?" Felix mutters. "Some equal partnership? You… You obviously want me to be your plaything, still."

Matt's teeth are sharp when they graze Felix's earlobe. "I want to keep fucking you, sure. But is that really an unfair request? Don't you want the same thing?"

"I want to k-kill you," Felix grinds out, eyelids fluttering a little when Matt runs his palm slowly along the length of his cock. "What is this? A, a bribe? To get me to let it go?"

He yelps when Matt squeezes his balls and bites his neck at the same time, pain and pleasure zinging through his body hard enough to make him see stars. When Matt licks over the spot, Felix can feel something run down his skin, and he's not so sure it's saliva. The thought that Matt might have actually made him bleed is painfully arousing.

"I would never ask for such a thing," Matt purrs in amusement. The way his breath stings, Felix knows he left a wound. "That's part of the game, sweetheart. I want you to stay my rival as much as I want you to be my business partner. This dance would be a lot less fun if we weren't in opposition." He pulls back, leaving Felix to bite back a whimper as he's left aching by himself. The laptop is removed from his knees.

"So what's in it for me?" Felix asks, looking over at Matt. (Blood on his lips. God. Fuck. Felix feels sick with want.) "The blessed chance to keep fucking your majesty?"

Matt smiles at him, sharp and dangerous, closing the laptop before setting it down on the other side of the couch. "Of course. But you'd also be closer to me than anyone else, no? If you're going to find out how to kill me…"

Oh. That would make it easier, wouldn't it. Dizzy with lust, Felix imagines what it might be like to finally succeed, for Matt's lifeless eyes to never recover their shine. The chance to desecrate the body of a false god before disposing of it however he sees fit. (Maybe he'd keep it until it was no longer usable.)

Felix is startled from his thoughts when Matt grabs his shoulders and moves to straddle his lap, eyes glowing gold as he looms above before dropping his weight down onto Felix's cock. The choked moan he gets in response is clearly exactly what he wanted. Hands flying to Matt's hips, Felix takes a ragged breath, trying to compose himself and failing.

"So all that—That's my incentive to make a deal with the devil?" Felix asks in a huff.

"It's a good deal, isn't it?" Matt murmurs, smirking as he grabs Felix's tie and uses it to pull him closer. "And power, you know. A proper executive assistant, and not just a shameful secret on the payroll." He moves even closer, blood on his lips gleaming, and Felix feels panic start to rise in his chest as Matt's breath mingles with his own. "You have everything to gain, Mr. Carter."

Felix jerks his head back on reflex when Matt's lips just barely brush his, and immediately, he realizes it was a mistake.

He's never kissed anyone before. Of course he hasn't. He hates people, and the only other physical relationship he's ever had was with his brother. Not once in all the nights he spent fucking Trevor's thighs did he yearn to throw kissing into the mix. The distress it might have caused wasn't worth actually doing it, dealing with the threat of teeth and the mess of spit when he already had plenty to enjoy. Now, with Matt heavy in his lap and clearly in control, the thought of something so deliberately intimate churns his stomach.

The way Matt is looking at him, though, eyes practically glittering, Felix knows he's not going to have a choice. His clear aversion is blood in the water.

Grip still tight on his tie, Matt places a hand on Felix's jaw, his touch unusually gentle. His fingertips skate along Felix's skin, brushing over his ear before tangling up in his hair, and despite how boxed in he feels, Felix can't help but notice that none of it is really trapping him. He could easily jerk his head to the side. Hell, he could try to shove Matt off. Would he be stopped like before? Would Matt prevent himself from being moved?

I would have let you go, he recalls Matt saying a week prior. Knowing you're too stubborn for that doesn't mean it wasn't true.

Bastard.

Their lips touch again, and this time, Felix doesn't pull back. It turns into a proper kiss, tender but firm, and somewhere in the back of his mind Felix thinks this is the ideal of what a first kiss should be. It's not like he cares, though. So why does Matt?

The answer becomes clear soon enough. Felix squeezes his eyes shut when Matt deepens the kiss, lips moving against Felix's mouth in a way that sends electricity through his veins. He can taste his own blood, gives in enough to lap it from Matt's lower lip, and he's rewarded by Matt's hips rolling down onto his cock in a way that makes him nearly choke on his own tongue. Apparently, Matt is sporting the body's original equipment today. The way it feels to have a clothed cock grinding into his own makes Felix feel crazy.

Matt tightens his grip in Felix's hair, pulling his head back a little and lasciviously licking through his mouth when it elicits a panting groan. Felix tightens his grip on Matt's hips in turn, starting to worry that this foreplay is going to do him in well before they even get undressed. Matt bites his lower lip, dragging it between fortunately human teeth, and when Felix cracks his eyes open to meet the ones hungrily watching him back, a startling realization crashes down upon him. This isn't foreplay.

He pulls back, just a little, putting enough space between them to try and protest. He doesn't get through a single syllable before Matt closes the distance, kissing him hard and deep, pressing Felix up against the back of the couch as his tongue blocks off any further sound. Felix squeezes Matt's hips even tighter as they roll against his hands, the friction between their groins swiftly sending him closer and closer to the edge, pleasure and need twisting through his body with increasing ferocity.

The way Matt breathes through his nose, hard and loud as he rakes his nails through Felix's hair, it's almost easy to believe that he's just as affected. That probably shouldn't be exciting. It is, though, and it's that very excitement that finally does Felix in as Matt moans into the space between them. Felix hasn't heard him do that before. It's like a cattle prod to his arousal, electrifying him down to his core as the hardest orgasm he's ever experienced rips through his lower half.

Matt kisses him through it, rocks languidly down into Felix's lap as he bucks his hips upwards into the overwhelming heat of Matt's body. Once the sensation leaves, bleeding out just as fast as it had surged in, Felix goes limp.

Their mouths part with a slick wet sound that makes his stomach weakly tighten. Matt licks away the thread of saliva between them with a stark gentleness, like it's an act of care, but the predatory look in his eyes suggests it's anything but. "How was that for a first kiss?" he whispers against Felix's lips, the hand that had been on Felix's tie moving to lightly encircle his throat.

Chest heaving, body heavy with exhaustion, Felix musters a weak sound of dissent. "Go fuck yourself."

Matt chuckles, a rumble down in his chest, and Felix feels a thumb reverently stroke along the vein under his jaw. "I deeply admire your resolve, Mr. Carter. I do hope you'll consider my proposal."

It's a false offer, much as the ones before it. Matt already expects Felix to accept. Why wouldn't he? It's as he said: Felix has everything to gain. The only thing stopping him is a sense of spite, his own stubbornness, something Matt is well aware of and has used to his advantage already. Felix could say no. If anything, that's exactly what he should do.

Matt has handily taken advantage of something else in all his praise, however. The one thing that dictates Felix more than anything else: his pride.

"Fine," he sighs. "Fine, whatever. I'll be your partner."

"Great!" Matt enthuses with a bright smile. His hand hasn't left Felix's neck. "Oh, we'll do fantastic things together, Carter. You'll see." Before Felix can say anything, Matt clicks his tongue, tilting his head as he pulls his palm a little bit away from Felix's skin. "Oh, I did some damage though, didn't I? Let me fix that."

For a moment, Felix suspects Matt will just use the same healing ability he uses on himself, but then his hand tightens once more around Felix's throat. Suddenly Felix remembers what happened at the tail end of the first time Matt fucked him.

"Wait—"

---

Felix comes to in a daze, sprawled out on the couch and staring up at the ceiling. His crotch feels sticky and gross without the weight of Matt's body on top of it. He blinks several times, then props himself up on his elbows, finding Matt standing a few feet away with…

"Would you stop taking my fucking phone?" Felix sighs.

"Do you actually think a fingerprint authenticator is a good lock?" Matt asks without looking over. "Honestly, Carter, I have access to your fingertips. Maybe try a pattern instead?"

"Excuse me for not catering my personal security to you specifically," Felix growls. "Why did you kill me? A bite wound was hardly worth the fuss."

Matt finally looks his way, one eyebrow raised. "Some rival you are, not defending against me in particular. And I wanted to fix the wound anyway—I can't do that without resurrecting you." He takes a step closer to the couch, holding Felix's phone out for him to take. It's open to a newly saved contact.

"But it wasn't a serious wound," Felix stresses, glaring at Matt's name on the screen as he takes his phone back. Something strange happens when their fingers brush, though. He feels… something. Like a little thread spun between them, something delicate as spider's silk tying him and Matt together. The sensation is gone as soon as his phone is back in his hand and Matt has stepped away.

What the fuck?

"Maybe I just felt like it," Matt says with a shrug. "Don't pretend you don't enjoy it, Carter, I'm not stupid."

Felix isn't buying Matt's explanations at all. Especially not with whatever just happened when they touched. He reluctantly decides to drop it, at least for now—hopefully increased proximity in the coming days will help him understand how Matt ticks. The better Felix gets him, the easier it will be to actually get answers, and get under his skin. He's determined to make that happen.

"Alright, well, you know what I don't enjoy?" Felix grouses as he sits up all the way. "Cold cum in my pants. Are you expecting me to walk out of here like this?"

"I was if you had refused my offer," Matt says. "Lucky you that you didn't. Just a moment." He turns away, heading towards the far end of the room, and Felix watches him with narrowed eyes. There really aren't any words for just how detestable he finds his new boss.

"Are you about to just magic up a new pair of pants?" Felix asks sardonically as Matt clicks open a cabinet past his desk. "Figured you'd just let me humiliate myself and then wipe everyone's memory, or something."

"Not magic," Matt replies. "Any good shapeshifter has extra clothes on hand, you know."

"Wait, what?" Felix sits up a little straighter. "You actually have spare pants?"

"Yes, yes, I'm very resourceful," Matt says dismissively as he returns with something slung over one arm. He hands it over, and sure enough, it's a pair of pants: tan slacks that look to be just about Felix's size, if a little on the short side.

Felix slowly looks up at Matt. "…These are too big for you."

"Mm?" Matt is examining his nails, not returning the gaze. "Well, I am a shapeshifter, as previously established."

"You never change your height," Felix says suspiciously. "And these have been worn in. They're not new. Did you steal these from someone?"

"Oh, are they too used?" Matt asks, looking down at the slacks with an expression that suggests he's bored. "Sorry, I'd have them ironed, but you really only need them to remain presentable for the rest of the day. I'm sure you'll be fine."

"You've killed multiple people already," Felix accuses.

Matt smiles.

"So, what, you take their clothes? Why?" Felix asks as Matt folds his hands behind his back again. "I don't buy that you actually need these. You clearly got a whole new outfit tailored over the weekend."

"Make yourself decent, Mr. Carter," Matt says. "We have better things to be discussing."

Scowling, Felix stands up to divest himself of his soiled clothes. Matt's already seen him in more shameful states, honestly, but Matt also doesn't make a point of watching, instead walking to the far end of the couch to grab his laptop.

"The clothes are just… in the way," Matt explains as he meanders back towards his desk. "And then I hold onto them. I could dump them, I suppose, but it seems my stash came in handy today."

Felix watches Matt's back curiously. "In the way of what?"

Matt sets the laptop back down on his desk, then leans on it himself, glancing back Felix's way with a dangerous smile full of razor sharp teeth. "Do you really want to know?"

Felix frowns, hesitating for a moment before stepping into the borrowed slacks (sans underwear, regrettably). They are in fact a little too short. As he starts to toe his way back into his shoes, he thinks of how easily Matt's fangs cut into his neck. He remembers all his research suggesting that the Godking cults were death cults. Entire communities wiped out with no bodies left behind.

Their eyes meet. There's a threat in Matt's, something sinister beyond what Felix has ever seen before, from him or otherwise.

He snorts. "I've been watching snuff films and fantasizing about fucking corpses since I was fourteen, angel. You're gonna have to do something a lot scarier than eat people to actually freak me out."

Matt laughs. This time, though, it's not a mean sound; if anything, it's shockingly sincere, and Matt half-covers his mouth with one hand as if to stifle it. It's almost charming, even given the subject matter he's responding to. Not that Felix is the sort to be put off by the topic anyway.

"Oh, you're fun, Carter," Matt muses when he calms down. "This is so… It's novel, really. This relationship. I'm so glad you've agreed to my terms."

Retrieving his belt from his old slacks to thread into the new ones, Felix briefly jabs a finger in Matt's direction before continuing his task. "Your business partner terms. None of that plaything shit. I'm still a threat to you."

As he finally manages to get his belt re-fastened, Matt appears in front of him, peering up at Felix with an expression that's hard to read. Before he can ask about the intrusion into his personal space, Matt grabs his tie and yanks him down so fast that it makes his head spin.

"I'm not a devil, you know," Matt says in a low voice. "I'm something much, much worse, and you are making a deal with me. You still intend to kill me? I'm looking forward to you trying. Make your attempts count, because you only have so much time before I kill you first."

Felix clenches his jaw, heart throbbing in his throat. Matt's eyes are their normal human green, but they're fierce, something challenging surging within. He's remarkably good at switching between pleasant and terrifying at a moment's notice.

"So why not just do it now?" Felix challenges right back. "Why play this stupid game at all?"

Matt's lips curl into a little smirk. "The truth is, Carter, you're not a threat to me. But you are mine. And what's mine doesn't survive after I've abandoned one of my vessels, because I don't like my property potentially belonging to someone else. Having a life without me. Loose ends, you see. Perhaps this company won't go the way my old cults did, but you?"

Felix bares his teeth, a cold bead of sweat running down the back of his neck. "I don't belong to you."

"And that's what I like about you," Matt purrs. "That defiance. Your insistent independence. So tell me now, darling: Is this a dealbreaker? Will you void our spoken contract knowing it means that I'll end your life if you don't exceed my expectations?"

Matt releases his tie, and Felix straightens back up, shakily adjusting it to a less tight fit. He's terrified out of his mind, and shouldn't he be? This thing that kills him on a whim for fun is promising to do it permanently if Felix can't reach his goals in time. He has no idea how to kill Matt yet. He also has no idea how much this business partners thing will ask of him, or for how long they'll be doing it. Everything is a gamble. A roll of the dice.

Felix takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. He's no stranger to relying on luck.

"Not on your life, leech," he spits, and Matt makes an amused little sound at his choice of pejorative. "I'll play your game. Underestimate me all you want, but I will find a way to kill you. And until then?" Felix gives Matt a cold look, then holds his hand out. "I expect to be treated like an actual partner."

Matt gives him a surprised look. That's the first time that's happened, and it actually takes Felix a little off guard. There's no mistaking the expression, the wide eyes and startled little smile. It melts into a satisfied smirk after a moment, and Matt takes Felix's hand in his, giving it a proper shake.

"Deal."

Chapter 7: Writing the Script

Summary:

Admittedly, this is the most interesting Felix's life has ever been.

Notes:

well this one got finished way faster. yay!

not much to say this time. i have some plans for the next chapter, and this one is mostly just setting up for things to come. enjoy the malix banter though! i love how these idiots talk to each other.

(felix really shouldn't take matt at face value. but surely matt isn't a liar...)

"You look tired."

Felix stops halfway through the living room, raising an eyebrow over at his roommate. "…I am. Long day."

"You really don't seem the office type," the other man says, perfectly casual. "Have you ever thought about quitting?"

He's like the cross-section between a gymbro and a hippie, a guy still in college who has a part-time job Felix has never bothered to remember the name of. They don't see each other a lot; he's usually still out with his college buddies when Felix gets home. (On rare, horrible occasions, he's brought them back with him instead.)

"Why are you trying to be my friend?" Felix asks, eyes narrowed, before continuing to his room.

"You just seem like you could use one, dude!" his roommate calls after him, and Felix shuts his bedroom door hard enough to silence that line of thinking. Or so he hopes. They barely interact, and he has no intentions to start now.

After flicking the lights on, Felix drops his work bag by the bed and shrugs off his jacket before sitting down, easing his tie loose to untie it completely and set it aside. It's probably worth considering how it's increasingly being used like a leash. He might get bitched at without it, but he's not actually sure if it's a strict part of the dress code. He hasn't read over that since he started working at the company.

Unfastening the buttons of his dress shirt with practiced ease, Felix shrugs it off to drop next to his tie, left only in a plain gray tee and the horrible too-short slacks he's been wearing for half the day. He takes those off with much less care, kicking them aside with disdain before fishing a new pair of boxers out of his dresser. The old pair, along with his old slacks, are pulled out of his work bag and piled with everything else to be taken to the washing machine.

This has been his life for years now. The mundanity of it, the independence he gained when he left home at eighteen, never to look back. Sometimes it still feels surreal. He deserves better than this, of course, but living in the city is expensive and he can only focus on so many goals at a time. Manipulating Jones had seemed like a surefire plan, once. A way to control and coerce, power by way of a leash pulled taut.

Is this back to square one? Felix starts the wash cycle and watches his clothes start to spin, the hum of the machine steadily drowning out a phone call his roommate is taking in the other room. It had felt like he was set back even farther than he'd started, at first. He'd been prepared to climb his way back up by whatever means necessary. This, though… this deal. He doesn't trust Matt in the slightest, but this might be a good thing.

Most of it, anyway. The part where Matt expects real work? Maybe less so. Felix has coasted by on Jones not actually wanting him to do anything for months at this point. It's not that he thinks he can't—he just knows it's going to be a drag.

He slips out of the tiny laundry room and heads back down the hall, stopping briefly to look back towards the living room. His roommate is loud when he talks. He's chattering about some sort of party, something upcoming, and Felix feels grateful that their place is way too tiny for any such thing. He wouldn't make it through that without causing a scene.

He locks his door by habit, then returns to his bed to grab his laptop and flop back against the pillows. If he's going to be doing real work, it might be time to go through some of the less interesting files he stole from Jones's personal computer last year. They'd seemed pointless before, but he'd kept them anyway, wanting a full archive of everything he'd been able to take. Maybe something useful will be in there. The man was dedicated to his work, if nothing else.

What he wasn't, however, was tech-savvy. His organizational skills in the office clearly didn't translate over to computers, and his files are a mess as a result, scattered between a small handful of folders and frequently poorly named. His downloads folder alone has way too much shit in it. Felix had found surprisingly little dirt in there before; he'd been hoping for shameful porn or something else incriminating, another thing to hold over his boss's head, but it was mostly ordinary bullshit. He almost skips it entirely this time. He knows where the business-related files are already, after all.

What stops him is a zipped file labeled simply "gk".

Had he not seen that before? He can't remember, clearly didn't commit it to memory. It does blend in with the rest of the files, and the name seems meaningless. Or at least it did. Knowing what he knows now, Felix clicks into the folder. Jones didn't have a program to unzip these. What are the chances he just accessed it this way and never did anything else with the documents within?

Inside are a handful of text files and a few photos. Immediately, Felix knows this is exactly what he thinks it is. One of the files is titled "GOD OF PROSPERITY". So he opens it.

Some of it is information he already knows, summaries of the various communities the world over who worshiped the so-called Godking. There's just one thing wrong: the document isn't talking about the deaths. The entire compounds wiped clean off the earth, the inevitable end to every iteration of the cult. There's clearly a historical interest here, a sort of academic exploration of the purpose and meaning of Matt's religion, but it seems to be missing that key component in every single passage.

What it does discuss is the aforementioned "prosperity". Time and time again, people were coerced into worship because the Godking made them wealthy. Not even always money—sometimes it was crops, or material goods, or better living arrangements, or more territory, or any other number of benefits. In exchange for their loyalty he would give them great things. The chosen prophet would be led to everything they could need, driven to find the prosperity their god promised, and it's not hard to imagine how Matt could pull that off.

One of the photos is a painting. Several hundred years old, in a style Felix doesn't fully recognize, not one of the classical sorts you find in museums. It seems to be a portrait, though, something painted to commemorate someone specific, and the title says who: "PROPHET". Maybe one of the other text files will explain which era this is from, how they found this painting. Felix wonders where it is now.

He almost clicks out of the photo, then hesitates.

This particular prophet is a man, slender and seemingly tall, with dark skin and a knowing smile. His clothes are fancy but not opulent, certainly something befitting a mere mouthpiece for the Godking. Except there never was a Godking. Only a parasitic thing that worms its way into people's bodies, convinces them that the Godking has arrived with all the abilities necessary to "prove" the claim. It seems so obvious, now, and Felix isn't sure how he didn't put the pieces together before.

One of the other documents is titled "INVOCATION". Even with no affection in his heart for Jones and no real concern about what happened to him, Felix can't help but feel a little chill run down his spine. The text discusses something wholly new, though, and immediately Felix finds his interest piqued. The way to summon the Godking is twofold, a series of strange runes and the titular invocation, but those runes and those sounds are specifically the Godking's name.

Matt's never mentioned having his own name.

The document talks about how the runes are in no known language, presumably invented by the disciples of the Godking for this very purpose. As for how to pronounce it… Felix squints at his screen as the author explains how most people simply can't. There are approximations, and they try to phonetically spell out various interpretations, but clearly there's something missing in all the sounds. How did Jones summon him, then? Just try his best?

Felix sets his lips to try and pronounce the first example, then changes his mind. Not worth it. He can ask Matt about it, though—chances are that egomaniac would love to talk about himself.

The other files are mostly more photos, scans of old manuscripts and paintings far less well-preserved, and Felix decides he's seen everything that might be of use to him. He hadn't meant to take this detour at all, anyway. He backs out of the folder, trying to set his mind back to his original task rather than linger on what he's learned.

There's not much of note in the rest of Jones's files. Some company info, sure, but not really anything of use, and eventually Felix gets bored looking and decides he'll just take things as they come. It really has been a long day, and he's tired enough to be considering sleep already—maybe he should get some dinner, but with his roommate home he's not keen to spend any time in the kitchen.

Sinking down lower against the pillows, Felix navigates to one of his usual porn sites and idly scrolls the front page. It usually doesn't take long to find something that'll do the job. As he passes thumbnail after thumbnail of hands around throats and dripping holes and hardcore BDSM setups, though, he starts to get the feeling that none of this is going to cut it. Maybe the harder stuff, then. That usually does it if nothing else will.

As the other site starts to load, though, Felix's mind returns to the events of earlier in the day. The way it felt as Matt's tongue slid through his mouth, the weight of his body, the feel of his nails raking through Felix's hair. He squeezes his eyes shut and exhales sharply through his nose. That did it, of course. Now he's hard.

Whatever. It doesn't matter. Taking a moment to lean over to his nightstand and operate the pump on a bottle of lotion one-handed, Felix shoves his boxers out of the way with his other hand before flopping back and getting to work. He drags his fist up the length of his cock as he continues scrolling the page, seeking something that will get him the rest of the way. He doesn't need Matt for this. Except every thumbnail blends together, every promise of a brutal rape or worse feeling almost uninteresting. That's stupid. Nothing Matt's done to him is even more intense than any of that.

Earbuds still dangling from the edge of his nightstand, Felix just turns the volume on his laptop speakers low and clicks into a video that seems titillating enough. He starts pumping his cock in earnest as the sounds of fearful pleading whisper from the speakers, but it becomes clear all too quickly that this won't be enough.

Is it even worth trying to find a different video? Felix is pissed, but he's not stupid. There's no point being in denial about this. He shoves his laptop away, letting the audio continue as he tips his head back and throws his free arm over his eyes.

He thinks he should imagine himself brutalizing Matt, because he'd gotten off to that exact thought a week ago after they'd had sex last. The female voice crying from his laptop doesn't lend itself well to that image, though. It's hard to even imagine Matt actually responding in such way.

But…

Maybe a girl, then. Just some girl. And the both of them. They're partners now, after all. She could be tied and bound, pleading for her life as she's forcibly pinned to whatever flat surface is available. Felix actually knows what sex with pussy feels like now—he can imagine it so clearly. He can also imagine Matt kissing him during. Maybe he could be at the other end, fucking her mouth…

Felix can't linger properly on that visual. He keeps returning to Matt kissing him, panting into his mouth as Felix fucks into their shared victim hard enough to hurt her. Would Matt even care about the girl? Or would he be focused on Felix, disregarding their toy in favor of his partner? Felix imagines Matt whispering against his lips that he knows he's close. Putting his hand around the back of the girl's neck, their breath mingling, those golden eyes just barely shining behind Matt's narrowed eyelids, the crack of her spine being snapped and her muscles cinching tight in response—

Felix lets out a little gasping moan as he comes, chest heaving, tongue lolling from his mouth like he's playing it up for a porno. His throat feels dry. How hard has he been breathing? He swallows thickly, removing his arm from over his eyes and blinking up into the light of his ceiling fan. His hand is dripping with his own cum when he checks, and he sighs, leaning over to snatch a box of tissues from the nightstand. After wiping his hand down, he pulls his boxers back up and closes the window he'd had open before shutting his laptop with more force than necessary. The faster he goes to sleep, the less time he has to actually think too hard about the shame of that overly-detailed fantasy. So he turns off the lights and attempts to do just that.

He doesn't sleep, though. Not immediately. Avoiding thoughts of getting off with Matt just leads him to think about everything else, their deal and the things he's learned, the way his life has changed so drastically in the span of only a few weeks—it's madness. Nothing used to be like this. He understood his life, the role he played in it, and the role he wanted to be playing.

Felix rolls over, shoving his blanket down to his waist before trying to get comfortable again. He just needs to sleep. There's no use dwelling on any of this.

He hears his roommate laugh in the other room. Peeling his eyes open to stare into the darkness, Felix listens to the sounds of the world outside and elsewhere in the building for a moment before sighing. Fine, he'll admit it. All of this is far more interesting than his life has ever been before.

He tugs his laptop close again and pushes it open, squinting into the glow of it before propping himself up enough to hit the shortcut that lowers the brightness. Back into that folder Jones never unzipped, into the document that taught the company's former CEO how to summon the thing that ruined his life.

The syllables really don't make sense. All the different versions are approximations, too. Matt will probably laugh if Felix tries to say it.

He picks the one that feels the most correct and tries to figure it out anyway. At least until he's tired enough to sleep.

---

"Wow, you cut a handsome figure on that thing."

Felix pulls his helmet off and looks over in mild surprise to find Matt approaching him from a few cars away, footsteps echoing off the pillars of the parking garage. Felix narrows his eyes, then shakes his hair out before dismounting his bike and tucking his helmet back under the seat. "Hadn't noticed I rode a motorcycle yet?"

"Well, this parking space isn't exactly close to mine," Matt says, shrugging when Felix looks at him again. He's wearing what looks to be more formal wear, but over it is a dark gray peacoat. "Which, by the way, I'll have changed. Unless you like it here?"

"I've seen where the executives park," Felix snorts. "If you wanna reserve me a spot there, be my guest. Have you switched entirely over to richboy clothes?"

As he starts to head for the nearby elevators, Matt falls in step with him. Felix never fails to feel a little amazed by just how small the guy is when they're both standing. "No, casual clothes still have their place," Matt says. "Not only for appearance's sake but for comfort. That said, this is the right attire for our job, no?"

"Our," Felix scoffs mockingly. "You know damn well they wouldn't stop you."

"That's not really relevant to my choices," Matt chuckles. "You look great in leather, by the way."

They're lucky enough for no one else to be in the elevator when it arrives. Matt steps in before Felix can, leaning against the back wall and leaving Felix to hit the button for the top floor. Annoying bastard. Once the doors close, Felix joins him anyway.

"Is there something you want from me?" he sighs.

"Right this second? Not really." Matt pulls off some gloves Felix didn't realize he was wearing, tucking them into his coat pockets. "We're headed to same place, Carter, don't act like I'm stalking you."

"I mean the fucking compliment." Felix glares down at Matt, who raises his eyebrows in return. "You don't need to stroke my ego, I already agreed to work with you."

Matt blinks slowly. "Carter… I do actually think you're attractive."

Felix can feel his face go hot. Christ, that's embarrassing. "Well excuse me for not trusting your sincerity."

"You're excused."

Anything Felix could have snapped in response is cut short by the elevator stopping on a lower floor. Felix doesn't recognize any of the people who get in, nor does he remember the purpose of the floors they select. Matt shuffles a little closer to him when someone stands near the back wall. Two others are chatting amongst themselves near the door.

"Oh, I wanted to ask you about something," Matt says, and Felix resists the urge to grimace. He's doing that fake voice again. The I'm a normal human man voice.

"Can it not wait?" Felix asks quietly.

Matt laughs a little, smiling, and were Felix anyone else he thinks he'd find it sincere. That's kind of scary. "It's nothing major, just… While we're on the way, y'know?" He gestures vaguely upwards. "C'mon, Felix. You are my assistant."

There's something uniquely detestable about how he only uses Felix's first name when he's acting. Admittedly, though, Felix has to admire the grift. It's no wonder no one else in this building finds Matt unusual—he comes off as a soft little loser who doesn't fully care about professionalism. Everything else is carefully hidden away.

"Fine," Felix sighs. "What is it?"

A few more people get in on another floor. Felix usually tunes most of the elevator ride out; having Matt with him is an annoying anchor to reality.

"So, here's the thing: the old guys were talking about a company party," Matt begins to explain, and at this point he's fully against Felix's side. The elevator isn't that crowded. "Which, y'know, whatever, but I was thinking—"

"Why the fuck do they want to have another one?" Felix scowls, leaning away from Matt. "Celebrate our fucking profits or something?"

Matt shifts closer again, sliding a hand up to grasp the crook of Felix's elbow. All at once the sensation from before returns, the little thread trailing between them, a flicker of something foreign and strange. Felix feels… something. An anomaly somewhere in his gut.

"No, dummy, it's about me taking over," Matt says with a grin, drawing Felix back to the conversation. They're both staying quiet enough to hopefully blend into the other chatter, but Felix sees someone slightly turn their head back at Matt's words. "Like, I was shown off to all the top floor folks, but this would be a bigger event. And a celebration."

"Great," Felix mutters. "Awesome. You want me there, don't you."

"Of course I do," Matt laughs softly. "This is our chance, don't you get it? They're gonna show me off, but I'm gonna show you off."

Two people get off, but then another one gets on. The elevator continues to rise. Felix can't deny that his interest has been piqued by the implications Matt is making, the idea of forcing everyone to recognize him as important. The thread between them thrums with faint electricity. "I'm listening."

"I know my dad kept you kind of shoved off to the side," Matt continues, and Felix rolls his eyes. My dad. Yeah, sure. "But I don't want to do that. You're gonna be my actual assistant… or, like, kinda my right-hand man?"

Felix glances down Matt's way. He's really selling this act, looking a lot more like Matthew probably did when he was excited than anything else. "I'm left handed."

It takes a second, Matt staring up at him with a faltering smile, but then he gets it and lets out a snorting laugh that does actually cause a few people to glance their way. "Not what I meant," he chastises, clearly amused. "Dumbass."

"You laughed," Felix says with a shrug. He'd felt something there, too. Something he can't name.

Several of the other passengers get off a few floors from their destination, and then the last two disembark from the elevator a floor beneath, and finally Matt and Felix are alone again. Matt waits a moment, then pats Felix's arm and finally lets him go. "You're a good sport."

"Why did you want to do that with an audience?" Felix asks, wrinkling his nose. "Couldn't you have told me in private?"

"Appearances, Carter. They're everything." The elevator comes to a final stop, and Matt tips his head towards the door as it opens before heading out. Reluctantly, Felix falls in step with him.

"It would be tempting to relegate my presence to the top floor alone, but that's not really the game I'm playing," Matt explains as they walk towards the executive offices. "The person I am—that is, the image I project—works better if more people are sure of it. I want a reputation."

Someone rushes past, and Felix steps to the side, almost bumping into Matt with an annoyed little growl. "…What does it matter? They can't do anything even if you always act like this."

"That's not the game I'm playing," Matt repeats.

They arrive at his office, and Matt lets them both in before shutting the door and removing his coat. Felix watches him for a moment before unzipping his jacket. May as well get comfortable—he suspects he's going to be here for a while.

"So, about the party," Matt says as he hangs his coat up. "Most of the planning is—"

"Hold up," Felix cuts him off. Matt gives him a look that's almost impatient, and that's new, but Felix disregards it for now. "I have some shit I want to ask you about." He hands his jacket to Matt, who stares at it for a second before letting out a huff of a laugh and taking it to hang up with his own.

"You really don't have any respect for the power dynamics in play, do you," Matt hums. "I like that about you. Go on, then."

When Matt starts to walk towards his desk, Felix stops him with a hand around his bicep, another thing that apparently comes as a surprise. "First off," Felix begins, "this. What the fuck is this?"

Matt gives him a completely blank look. "…What's what?"

"The fucking—this feeling!" Felix snaps, already irritated. "It started yesterday. Every time we touch, it feels like there's something…" He trails off, gesturing vaguely with his free hand. "You don't feel it?"

Matt tilts his head. Felix is bracing himself to be gaslit, all too familiar with the tactic, but that's not actually what Matt ends up doing. "No," he says, "but I can tell you're serious. It started yesterday?"

"When you gave me my phone back," Felix confirms as he releases Matt's arm. "It feels like there's this… sort of… thread, between us. Like I can feel it…" He hesitates, then sighs angrily, rubbing his jaw. "This sounds so fucking stupid."

"Hm." Matt puts a hand to his chin, then starts to circle around Felix, seeming to examine him. "Interesting. I wonder…"

"What are you doing?" Felix asks, sidestepping Matt as he continues his circling. "Do you know what it is?"

"I think you're just adjusting to us being in close proximity," Matt says, crossing his arms. "Those I wind up keeping close don't usually know what I am, but they do believe they're communing with their God. You don't have anything like that to fall back on, so you notice it."

"That's it?" Felix asks. "Is that why it feels so… intimate?" He hates saying that, didn't want to in the first place, but if this is a mark of him being special then he may as well call it what it is.

Matt nods, a coy little smile on his lips. "Yeah, that's a word for it. A special little connection with your God."

Felix narrows his eyes as Matt turns away and heads for his desk. "What are you, anyway?"

"Now, now, Carter, you already got to ask a question," Matt chides, reaching his desk and picking a folder up off of it. "It's time for us to discuss the company party."

"Don't fucking condescend to me," Felix snaps. God, if Matt isn't the most infuriating person he's ever met. Except that's just it—he's not a person at all. "You're not a god, and you're sure as fuck not a king either. So what are you?"

"Unfathomable to your kind, so this is pointless," Matt says without looking back. "Ever read Lovecraft?"

Felix stares at his back, then snorts. "What, you're a fucking Cthulhu kinda guy? Is that why your name is like that?"

Matt pauses. After a second he looks over his shoulder, expression sharp, but not hostile. Felix feels like he's being sized up. "You found my name?"

Maybe it's some kind of fae thing. Maybe that's why it can be used to summon him. Hell, maybe that's what Matt is. Felix has long since accepted that there are a lot of nonhuman entities on this planet, and the Others (demons, he reminds himself) aren't the only ones. "Yeah. That's how Jones got your attention, right? It was in his files."

"Is that so…" Matt turns back to the folder he was leafing through, pausing to read one of the pages. "I'd like to see those, if you don't mind. How'd he figure out how to pronounce it, I wonder? Not that he did a good job, or anything, but the invocation is usually something I introduce. I doubt anyone told him."

"The files did," Felix says, feeling a little more smug about his findings now. "Must have been close enough for you to answer him, right?" When Matt doesn't immediately respond, Felix decides to take a stab at it himself, reciting the stumbling set of syllables he'd practiced the night before.

This time Matt freezes. For just a moment, Felix feels like this is it. His way in. His ticket to control, the cage to contain his quarry. When Matt looks at him again, though, he's smiling.

"Is that your best attempt?" he snickers. "Aw. That's so cute."

"Oh my god, go fuck yourself," Felix mutters, face heating up once more. "It's literally not pronounceable!"

"As I said, unfathomable," Matt points out with a smirk. "Don't take it too hard, Carter. You're closer than I'd expect for someone who's never actually heard it." He sets the folder back down, then turns back towards Felix, leaning against his desk and folding his arms again. "You really are curious about me, aren't you?"

Felix rolls his eyes. "What do you think?" he scoffs, wandering over towards the couch against the wall. (Hard not to think about what happened on it yesterday.) "I want to kill you, dipshit. Shouldn't I know more about you?" Flopping down on the cushions and stretching his legs out, Felix clasps his hands behind his head and gives Matt a flat look. "So? Tell me about this stupid party."

Matt watches him, the distance between them fairly long; this office is huge, with all the space it needs to be lavishly decorated. Matt's clearly been getting to work on that, too. For all the plants and shelves and side tables, though, there's nothing between them, and Felix finds himself faltering internally under that steely gaze.

His mind helpfully supplies that memory of Matthew again. The scared little bunny rabbit. Did it feel like this, when Felix loomed over him?

Then it's gone, Matt pushing away from his desk and sauntering closer with a smile that's only a tiny bit sinister. "Well, as I was saying, most of the planning is being handled by the other executives. Adams, in particular. You know how he is." Felix grunts in agreement.

"So what you and I need to plan for is presentation," Matt continues, stopping to stand next to the couch.

"What, like… outfit coordination?" Felix asks, raising an eyebrow.

"No, nothing like that," Matt assures with a little laugh. "I mean the dynamic we'll present. The people you and I will be to this crowd of employees." He sits down, actually leaving a little space between them this time. "I'm not the only actor here."

"I wouldn't call what I do acting," Felix scoffs. "At least, not usually. Not unless I actually need something."

"And you go perfectly unnoticed otherwise," Matt says with a smirk. "Not causing issues nor being of much use. Fascinating, really, and I have to admire how you forced your way up here despite having no interest in the work."

Felix lowers his arms as he leans forward, watching Matt carefully. "I'm not the only one doing research, huh."

"It's hard to find information on someone most people don't think about," Matt says. "Luckily, however, several employees up here are well familiar with how unusual your relationship with the former CEO was. How he clearly despised you, you never did any work, and yet somehow you were always close at hand. Involved in things no one wanted you in."

Kind of weird to hear all that effort summed up like that. "I was getting pretty close to having him totally at my mercy, y'know," Felix says with a loose gesture of one hand. "The way the company was starting to tank… I was that close. Then the guy went nuts for no apparent reason, which was surely unrelated to everything that happened with you immediately after."

"How strange," Matt teases. "So why were you doing it?"

Felix shrugs. "It was something to do."

Matt watches him for a long moment. There's nothing for him to find there, and he seems to eventually accept that, smile widening. "Oh, you're fascinating. I'd love to pick your brain, you know. Really see what makes you tick." Felix grimaces, and in response Matt grins at him, all sharp teeth. "Yes, I do mean literally."

"You're a freak."

Matt leans back into the couch cushions, drawing one leg up and clasping his hands around his knee. Felix watches him, waiting for a response, but for a long moment one doesn't come as Matt looks across the room and not at him. This feels weird. Like the atmosphere has shifted, suddenly, a different sort of intent between them.

Then Matt speaks—or Felix thinks he does. His lips move, but the sounds are… They're not sounds. They are, he hears them, but more than that he feels them. They're not human. They're like nothing he's ever known, and they resonate in the farthest depths of his mind.

A vast sprawling expanse of night sky, blackness all around with stars twinkling therein, the unfathomable reaches of the universe and the quiet intimacy of looking at the galaxy above on a clear night. It's beauty, it's terror, it's massive, and yet it's small, too. A compact little cluster of stardust.

Felix lets out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. "Wh… What?"

Matt looks over at him with an insufferably smug smile. "My name. You see why I had to make the version I did? The one people can guess at? That's the easiest way to get my attention, and I tied myself to those runes for that purpose, but my real name… The one I earned… That's it."

Felix reaches up to absently rub his face, staring at the far wall without seeing it. "What the fuck. You just hijacked into my brain with fucking… space imagery." He blinks several times, then looks at Matt again, at his pleased expression. "That's you? The night sky?"

"The concept of it," Matt says with a little shrug. "Like how humans can be named after things. I'm not some god of the stars, unfortunately. But you know that—I'm not a god at all."

Felix does know that. It's why he asked in the first place, and why he repeats himself now: "So what are you?"

"I just told you," Matt says plainly.

There clearly won't be any more explanation than that. Felix sighs, leaning back once more to rub his face with both hands. Is every day going to be like this? Tumbling further down into things he's never even imagined before? Maybe he should take up day drinking. Or start doing shrooms.

"So… the party," he mutters.

"You know the role I'll be playing," Matt says, clearly ready to launch into a whole discussion. "What's left is yours. You won't be a looming shadow behind the CEO anymore—you'll be center stage. So who will you be?"

Felix lowers his hands. "Same person I always am," he replies. When Matt gives him an unimpressed look he sighs and leans forward again. "No, stupid, I don't mean this. I mean who I act like when I want people to think I'm a normal person."

"You can do that?" Matt asks, actually sounding curious.

Now Felix gets to feel smug. "Of course I can. You're looking at the guy whose parents sent him to six different psychiatrists throughout his childhood. Every single one of them thought I was a perfectly pleasant young man and didn't diagnose me with anything." He braces his hands on his knees and drags himself to his feet, adjusting his tie and smirking down at Matt. "Don't get me wrong, I'm not some fucking nutcase. I'm just smarter than everyone and they like to give you disorders about that."

"It probably is a disorder," Matt scoffs, lowering his raised leg to sit properly again. "But alright. You've got my attention."

"If you remembered your fucking stoner sleepytime phase, you'd know I already showed you," Felix grumbles. "And whatever we do, the other execs won't believe it. They know I'm a bastard." He sighs, then runs a hand back through his hair, adjusts his posture, and smiles down at Matt.

"Nice to meet you," he says, holding a hand out. "I'm Felix Carter. CEO's assistant." Matt smiles back up at him, something almost playful about it, and takes the offered hand to shake. Felix tries to ignore the sensation that accompanies the touch. That'll stop when he's more accustomed to Matt's presence, right?

"You work that closely with the CEO, huh?" Matt asks, standing up himself once they both let go. "Impressive job for someone so young."

"You should see the CEO himself," Felix says with a little laugh. "Guess it's our generation's turn. I think it's good for us though, you know. Fresh ideas." He puts his hands in his pockets, casting his gaze elsewhere, perhaps over an imaginary crowd of people. "The last guy was all wrapped up in his old ways."

"And you worked for him too?" Matt croons. "Wow! You must be good at this."

"What can I say?" Felix says with a bright grin, meeting Matt's eyes again. "I'm kinda made for a right-hand role."

"Seems more like the left to me," Matt says, putting a hand on one cheek.

"Oh, very funny," Felix huffs, dropping the act in an instant. He's never really enjoyed doing it, but that's mostly because it's just a tool. Not fun, not annoying, it just is. "So? You think I'm all ready for your royal ball?"

"You're good, I have to admit," Matt muses. "Now, I'm wondering if your little…" He wiggles his fingers. "Sidekick is going to cause problems. He knows what you're really like, doesn't he?"

"He'll keep his fucking mouth shut if he knows what's good for him," Felix mutters. "You think I don't have him under control? He's seen me fake it a million times and stayed quiet." He draws his hands back out of his pockets to fold his arms instead. "So? When is it?"

"Next weekend. I trust you have nothing planned?"

That sounds like an insult. Of course you don't, Matt's tone says, and the look on his face confirms it. It's not like he's wrong, either, but Felix wouldn't want to have plans anyway. Not that kind. It should be obvious by now that he's not exactly a social butterfly.

"So little faith in me, your majesty," he sneers. "I wouldn't miss it for the world."

Chapter 8: Acting the Part

Summary:

A night of improv, liquid courage, and new information.

Notes:

this took like. 5 days. as usual the delay after that was because i am SO well behaved and made sure to give myself room to revise it. these chapters would be kind of a mess if i posted them right away i can tell you that much

i don't tend to respond to every comment i get because i have the attention span of a peanut, but do know i squeal and kick my feet every time i get one. thank you guys so much for checking out this story and appreciating it!!

It's not quite like the last party, all told, but with far less time to plan there was no need to try and be extravagant. It's sort of a casual thing, really. A get-out-of-work-free card during the latter half of what might have otherwise been a fairly average Friday. The best place to host it was on one of the lower floors with an open floorplan, furniture and amenities all moved out of the way to better accommodate the dozens of employees who've arrived. There's music, refreshments, and a general atmosphere of success.

None of these people know the truth of what they're celebrating, but that's hardly Felix's problem.

The important part of all of this will be when Matt addresses the crowd. Until then, Felix is free to stay out of the way, and for the most part he has. Matt's schmoozing is just awkward to watch. Better to stay off to the side, leaning against the refreshment table and drinking maybe a touch too much champagne. He's already given up on trying to look 'more professional than usual' (Adams' demand), sleeves rolled up to his elbows like he always has them. He didn't even bring a blazer. Obviously that means he should stay out of sight, lest he disgrace the company with his shamefulness.

It's as Felix pours himself another glass that he sees Matt weave out of the crowd and begin to approach. He's all smiles and laughter, waving back at whoever he was talking to, but the moment he turns Felix's way the mask drops instantly.

"Give me that," Matt mutters, snatching the glass out of Felix's hand and draining in it one swing.

"Enjoying yourself?" Felix asks, raising both eyebrows. It's been interesting seeing Matt express things other than his usual smarmy confidence, at least when the two of them are alone. He still tends to orbit that baseline, but there's a little more depth now, a range of things he shifts through in his dealings with the human world.

Matt gestures towards the crowd with the empty glass. "It's nonstop. I'm a socialite, don't get me wrong, but the way these conversations flow… Everyone is so sure of themselves, or fascinated by me, my age and my attitude and whatever drivel the other execs see fit to share about me…" He takes a deep breath, running one hand back through his hair before returning the glass.

"This is just the corporate bigwig scene," Felix says, filling the glass again and handing it back to Matt before grabbing a new one for himself. "Jones didn't really deal with it. Talked down to people and stalked the room like a security guard, making sure all his top brass were behaving." He's barely raised his glass to his lips when Matt thrusts the empty one at him again.

"Oh, don't look at me like that," Matt huffs. "It would take several times a lethal dose of alcohol for a human body to get me drunk. I'm fine." Felix rolls his eyes, taking a sip from his own glass before just handing that over.

"So why bother?" he asks.

It's been a weird week and a half. If nothing else, Felix stopped feeling that strange sensation when they touch, but the little thread is still there. He feels it sometimes when they're especially close—and Matt makes that happen with a certain frequency. He seems to enjoy sex enough to initiate it nearly every day, and it's not like Felix is complaining. The only part he genuinely dislikes is that Matt only comes when he tops. Any other time, he doesn't bother trying, and Felix's pride would be wounded if he tried to make it happen and Matt just laughed him off.

Other than that, though, things have been moving. Profits are up. Felix has been shafted into a lot of assistant tasks, but Matt also frequently drags him into helping with the inner workings of his company plan. It's a pretty sweet gig. Felix feels more like he's in power, now, and though he hates to admit it, having Matt treat him like an actual partner feels pretty damn good. Respect from some kind of eldritch space parasite feels like an accomplishment.

Not that it's a genuine respect. The distance between them still exists, Matt overtly regarding Felix as some kind of toy or tool, but he never engages with anyone else so directly. Maybe that's still a win. Opportunities to find out how to kill Matt have been few and far between, but Felix is doing his best with research. (Matt killing him hasn't happened again. That feels like an anvil waiting to drop.)

Matt sighs over the rim of the glass. "Because it all leads to the things I actually want to be doing. I'm no stranger to the process of lining up the dominoes. People are just… Different, this way."

Felix glances down at him, then over into the crowd. "When they're not your loyal subjects?"

"Mmhm."

After draining his glass again, Matt sets it down on the table before adjusting the lapels of his blazer. "Manipulating people this way is something I'm good at. It keeps them docile, makes them trust me. Drowns out dissenting voices."

"I'm familiar with the tactic," Felix says, slipping his hands into his pockets. "What I really want to know is why you don't just use your mind control powers to get what you want." Matt glances up at him, and Felix narrows his eyes. "You did it to the entire accounting department. You've done it to others. Pretty sure you've done it to me, too."

"That's no fun," Matt scoffs. "Just controlling everyone from start to finish. If I could do that, why would any of this even matter?"

The collective chatter is loud, a steady undercurrent of a carefully curated playlist drifting underneath it all. A lot of employees showed up for this. Maybe it's the allure of all the drinks and food, or the socialization, or just the chance to not work at work; Felix can't say. He wouldn't be here if he didn't have an incentive to be.

"If you could?" he echoes.

Matt takes a deep breath, but before he addresses that statement (or ignores it, who knows with him), a friendly call of "Hey, Felix!" distracts them both.

It's Sebastian, because of course it is. Felix turns slightly towards him as he approaches, annoyed to be interacted with but having fully expected this would happen at some point in the night. "I thought you might be here," Sebastian greets enthusiastically. "You know, we never—"

He cuts himself off abruptly, eyes going wide, and without even looking Felix knows Matt has leaned around him to make himself known.

"Hi, you must be Sebastian!" he greets with matching enthusiasm, although Sebastian mostly looks nervous now. "Felix talks about you all the time."

"He does?" Sebastian asks, shocked, and Felix glowers down at Matt. The bright smile he receives in response more than confirms that Matt is just trying to be a pest. There are no positive contexts in which Sebastian comes up—Felix is either complaining or Matt is being condescending about him having a sidekick.

"You must be his only other friend at this company," Matt continues, stepping around Felix completely to offer his hand. "Not a small feat, is it?"

Sebastian hesitates before returning the gesture for a short shake. "So you two are friends now, huh?"

"We sure are," Matt titters, and Felix rolls his eyes. Neither of them are his friends, but he can't really say he cares if that's what Matt wants to tell people. It doesn't really matter. Especially not with Sebastian, whose expression certainly suggests he doesn't buy it. Maybe he thinks Matt believes it, but he's heard how Felix talks about their boss. There's no way he thinks it's mutual.

"I guess you two have been spending a lot of time together," Sebastian laughs awkwardly, and here he meets Felix's eyes—the desire for some kind of confirmation that it's all just a plan is plain as day. An assurance that nothing has changed, that Matt is the enemy, that perhaps Felix only has one friend at this company still. There's a certain desperation to it.

Felix smiles.

"Hey, Matt," he says softly, reaching up to play with a lock of auburn hair as Matt looks back at him in mild surprise. "Gonna be time for your little speech soon, huh? Should we be preparing for that?" Matt leans a little closer to him, turning back his way, and in response Felix threads his fingers fully in his hair to stroke through it. If Matt's going to lie about the nature of their relationship, that means Felix can too, doesn't it?

"Yeah," Matt murmurs, a little dreamy lilt to his voice, and behind him Sebastian looks as upset as he is baffled. "You wanna go get ready?"

There is no required "getting ready", of course, but as far as Felix can tell, this is Matt's yes, and to the sudden shift in dynamic. There's kind of a thrill to that. The opportunity, explicitly given, to keep escalating.

"Yeah," Felix agrees with a little grin, letting Matt's hair spill out of his fingers. "Plenty of empty offices nearby, why don't I help you rehearse?"

"Um, Felix," Sebastian starts to interject, and in response Felix slings an arm around Matt's shoulders. The gesture goes uncontested.

"I'll see you later, Seb, I'm kinda busy," Felix sneers, steering Matt along and towards the hallway that branches off closest to them. Matt matches his pace with ease, comfortable at his side, and it's surely not a sight that only Sebastian is seeing. Something about that sends a little possessive thrill through Felix's chest.

The hall is short, but it's got at least one empty office with an unlocked door. Felix lets them in, and Matt breaks away from him immediately, walking further inside without turning on the overhead lights. Felix locks the door behind them.

"That was cruel," Matt snorts, clicking on a lamp that rests on the desk towards the back wall. "That poor boy, he's so infatuated with you. God knows why."

"He needs to remember his place," Felix says with a shrug, meandering farther into the room. "You lied about our relationship first, anyway. May as well up the ante if you're just gonna roll with it."

Matt glances over his shoulder, giving Felix a look that's more bored than anything. "If you ever try that with something I don't like, I will make you look like an idiot. Don't get complacent, Carter, it's a bad look for you."

The entire point of isolating Matt was to try and get some more information out of him without being interrupted. Or at least that was what Felix had in mind. It's apparently a night of doing things on a whim, however, and he threads his fingers in Matt's hair again when he's close enough, tightening his grip into a fist and yanking his companion's head back.

"But you did like this, didn't you?" he murmurs, evenly meeting Matt's startled gaze.

The air in the room shifts. There's something heavy about it, a thick tension, and for a moment Felix suspects he's about to be punished for his insolence. He doesn't let go. If Matt wants to retaliate, he's more than welcome to. Despite the atmosphere, though, Matt's response winds up being a cocky smirk and a very intentional-looking tilt of his chin that exposes more of his throat.

"Feeling bold tonight, Carter?" he purrs.

Felix draws his other hand up to slide it around Matt's throat. "Maybe. You're not stopping me. How did you do that, by the way? The first time? It was like trying to fight off a rock."

Matt hums, leaning closer and sliding a hand down Felix's front to palm his half-hard cock. "Increased my mass. I could have just made myself bigger, I suppose, but I like this body. Cute little guy, isn't he?"

"Adorable," Felix deadpans. "You really are super powerful, aren't you. It's no wonder people believed your 'prophets' when they claimed you were a God." He tightens his grip on Matt's throat a little, cock twitching as it's lazily stroked. "Isn't that right, angel? You can do anything. Can't you?"

The atmosphere feels far more dense, now.

"You're still wondering why I said 'if I could'," Matt observes, pressing himself against Felix's body. "Cluing into some things, sweetheart? You didn't really think I was all-powerful, did you?"

"That's the funny thing about you," Felix says, releasing Matt's neck to run his hand down his front instead, grip in his hair tightening to compensate for the loss. He can feel Matt tense under his touch. "I don't know a lot of things. You're a serial liar, babe, I can barely trust what you tell me now."

"What are you doing?" Matt asks with a small half-laugh. "You barely ever put your hands on me. Change of heart?"

He's so little that going lower requires bending over slightly. The heat between his thighs certainly indicates it's a cunt kind of night, and Felix presses inward, delighted when Matt jerks his hips into the touch as if on reflex. "Yeah, well, you always take charge," Felix scoffs. "Don't you think a guy like me would get real fuckin' tired of always being treated like a sex doll? You already know I like power."

Matt laughs. There's something breathy about it, petering off into a little huff when Felix releases his hair to wrap around his throat with that hand instead. "You—You're different. You don't give a shit about what I am, do you." His Adam's apple moves against Felix's hand as he speaks, a sensation as fascinating as it is arousing. "You manhandle me like I'm someone you can victimize."

Matt's not touching him anymore. He's got a hand braced on Felix's thigh instead, nails digging in a little too sharply to be fully human.

"I don't believe for a fucking second that you couldn't stop me if you wanted to," Felix sneers, rubbing his fingers along the inseam of Matt's slacks. "You're just not used to not being in control. I think it's getting you off a little bit."

"And if I start fighting back?" Matt asks, his free hand resting over Felix's arm. "What then?"

"You'll have to kill me to make me submit," Felix murmurs, squeezing Matt's throat. "Then we start all over again, because I'm your favorite."

Those aren't nails at all. They're claws, and they're puncturing Felix's slacks, digging into his flesh as Matt rocks his hips into the stimulation. "Maybe I don't want to kill you," he purrs. "Maybe I just want to make this a challenge."

A challenge, huh.

Felix isn't an especially strong person, but Matt is light enough that wrapping both arms around his middle makes him easy enough to lift. He yelps, a brand new sound that goes straight to Felix's cock, and there's no real struggle to get him sitting on the desk, a few papers fluttering to the floor in the shuffle. Matt looks genuinely surprised when Felix crowds into his space, and licking through his lips makes him open his mouth and allow a kiss that barely asks for his input at all.

Felix almost lets himself get lost in the thrill of control before Matt brings him back to reality by biting his lower lip with those shark teeth of his. With an angry little growl, Felix bites him back, knowing full well that Matt will just heal it and not really caring to hold back as a result. Flesh splits between his teeth, a rush of blood that makes his head spin, and then Matt shoves him off with a hand right under his jaw.

Panting, Felix watches as Matt's halo materializes, his other hand covering the damage as he watches Felix back with an expression that's hard to read. When he lowers his hand, his mouth looks perfectly fine, and there's a desire so strong in Felix to fuck it up again. To damage that pretty skin over and over and over, force Matt to mend the tears again and again and again. See what he looks like torn open and bleeding.

"How much champagne did you have, exactly?" Matt asks.

Shoving away the arm keeping him back, Felix crowds into Matt's space again, bracing one of his hands on the desk as the other starts to undo the belt standing in his way. He isn't stopped now any more than he has been for anything else tonight. "You didn't answer the question, angel. What the fuck does the could mean? Are there limits on your powers?"

"If you think you can kill me by exploring that, you're sorely mistaken," Matt says. "My mortality and my energy levels are unrelated."

"But you can be killed," Felix growls as he slides a hand down the front of Matt's slacks. "What the fuck is energy about?"

His fingers pass over Matt's clit, intending to push down into the rest of him—he's very clearly wet—but then it's Felix's turn to yelp as something surges under his fingers, slick and solid, winding around his wrist and keeping his hand in place.

"What the fuck!" he exclaims, looking down to see a jet black and glistening tendril twisted around his forearm like a snake.

"Why don't I give you a rundown on how my abilities work?" Matt purrs, legs spread like he's granting access even with this monster tentacle erupting from his groin. Felix glares at him, then looks back down. His fingers are still plunged into something wet and warm. Pushing them in farther makes Matt exhale sharply, the tendril tightening its hold around Felix's arm before relaxing.

Oh. He can work with this.

"I'm all ears," Felix mutters, pressing his thumb into the base of the tendril where it leaves Matt's body as he slips his fingers even further inside. He can't see what he's doing with the slacks mostly still in the way, but it obviously feels good the way Matt rocks into the contact. (That little thread of connection is back. Faint, but absolutely there.)

"This world… this reality, it requires energy," Matt murmurs, eyes hooded as Felix draws his fingers out to push them back in, stroking the tendril all the while as it constricts and loosens in clumsy staccato around his arm. "To act, you must expend… There's a cost for everything. A certain requirement for any given action."

"So, what, if you're too tired you can't do shit?" Felix scoffs. "That's not special."

"The energy it takes to walk, to speak, to think… and the energy it requires to alter matter… are very different," Matt explains. His voice is getting a little breathier, and while Felix knows for sure that he's played up his own arousal dozens of times now, this doesn't seem the same. Like he's not doing it for the benefit of an audience. "I, of course, am a vast and powerful entity… I can store and expend massive amounts of energy as needed, but I do need to store it first. And… the things that fuel a human body, keep it in motion… aren't entirely the things that fuel me."

Felix brings his other hand into the mix, rubbing along the tendril where it coils around his arm, and Matt actually shudders in response. This is such a power trip. "So your tank's running low? Can't do incredible godly feats?"

"To replenish my energy in full, I simply need to wait for it to regenerate," Matt sighs. "Sometimes… it's wiser to use it to excess, to drain the tank on purpose, as it were. Overflow is more dangerous than empty."

"You're losing me a bit," Felix mutters, feeling out the texture of where his fingers are before shoving them in as deep as they'll go. Matt sucks in a sharp breath, and Felix can see that he's got his nails digging into the wood of the desk underneath him. Or maybe they're not nails. The claws he'd felt before, as black as this tendril but far more matte, curving out of Matt's fingers much like normal nails might.

"You know, I've only watched porn," Felix offers when Matt doesn't immediately continue his little biology lesson. "A lot of it, sure, but I've never actually… Well, I guess it doesn't matter, pussy doesn't usually have tentacles coming out of it. You seem to be enjoying yourself, though."

Matt laughs low in his throat, hanging his head for a moment before looking up at Felix with dark eyes. (No gold? Really? Even with the teeth and claws?) "I may or may not be reorganizing some nerve endings in there. You've got really long fingers, by the way…"

"Yeah, I'm sure they feel long when you're as small as you are," Felix scoffs. "You're making this feel better for yourself on purpose?"

"I like to feel good too, y'know."

Felix considers that, then draws his fingers out to thrust them all the way inside again, his other hand following the curve of the tendril up his arm until he finds the tapered end of it. Easing his fingers underneath, he pulls it away from his skin, allowing the last several inches to wrap around his hand as he rubs into it with his thumb. Matt's hanging his head again, breathing hard, and Felix leans closer to him.

"So why, exactly, do you just walk off without coming when I top you?" he asks in a low murmur. "Never tell me to finish what I started. Or force me to finish the job, like you suggested that first time. Hell, you don't even stick around after I finish, like you're in a hurry to get away."

Matt lifts his head once more, their faces so close that Felix can feel Matt's breath on his wounded lower lip. "Well… What did I tell you, Carter? I have no intention of rewarding you with the satisfaction of being the reason for my orgasm…" He lifts one of his hands, winding Felix's tie around it to draw him even closer. "I said you could earn it," he whispers against Felix's lips. "And it seems you finally did."

They haven't actually kissed that much since the first time. Felix never even initiates, but that's true with everything—this entire interaction is a first. Matt is close (in more ways than one), and Felix can feel his lip throbbing in time with his cock, and it just seems like the right choice to close the distance between them to force his tongue in Matt's mouth again.

He hears a sound that's probably Matt's dress shoes kicking back against the desk, the tendril tightening so hard around his arm and opposite hand that Matt can probably gauge Felix's blood pressure if he wants to. His cunt, too, tightens like a vice, squeezing Felix's fingers together as Matt reciprocates the kiss in a way that's downright sloppy.

Then everything relaxes at once—the tendril, Matt's cunt, his grip on Felix's tie. They breathe into each other's mouths for a long moment, and then the tendril retracts, vanishing back into Matt's slacks and allowing Felix to retrieve his hand. His fingers are visibly slick, Matt's fluids strung between them when they separate, but the rest of Felix's arm isn't doing much better. Or his other hand, for that matter.

"I'm covered in your slime," he grumbles, and Matt laughs again.

Felix's own orgasm is hardly as much of a theatrical affair. Matt does get him there, with the assurance that he always takes care of his toys (annoying), but really all it takes is a few deft strokes before Felix spills into his palm. He's maybe going to be holding onto the image of Matt licking his hand clean for a while.

The office they defiled certainly belongs to someone, but neither of them see fit to mention it on their way out, and no one is immediately outside either. Somewhat further outside, however, Adams is clearly looking for Matt and homes in on the pair of them the second they make eye contact. There's not much to be done about it, and Felix trails after as Adams drags Matt to a place along one of the walls where the rest of the C-suite are also lurking.

Getting the assembled crowd to quiet down and pay attention takes a few minutes. Felix thinks back to Matt's talk of energy, something about excess and overflow. Does he not have enough to hypnotize a whole crowd, or does he just not want to? How powerful is he right now? It's hard to remember a lot of what he said when Felix can only really think about what they were doing while he spoke.

Matt steps forward when prompted. He's awkward and nervous and shy, stumbling over his words and laughing and talking a lot about his father and his own life and how he's doing his best. Felix licks his lower lip, sore and raw, and Adams hisses something to him about not making a fool of this company. Whatever. When he puts his hands in his pockets, he realizes Matt left holes in one of them.

He's never been this close for any other events of this nature. Even when he forced his way in, he was still just a looming presence in the back of the assembled group. He can tell Adams wants to shove him back there again. Maybe he would, but eventually Matt grins over his shoulder, gesturing, and Felix steps up to his side.

"Felix was my father's assistant as well, but he was never really given the chance to assist," Matt says, putting a hand on Felix's arm. "But he's been assisting me, and he's amazing. Please, if you see him around, treat him with respect. He's my right-hand man."

"Left," Felix reminds him with a playful smile.

Matt laughs. Some of the crowd do too. Somewhere in the assorted faces, Sebastian is still present, looking distinctly uncomfortable.

"I may be young, and inexperienced, but I have a lot of really talented people behind me," Matt continues. "Our profits are already up. No matter what happens, I'm going to turn this company into exactly what my dad wanted. I'll make us prosper."

God of Prosperity, the documents called him. Felix resists the urge to roll his eyes. The crowd loves it, though, and they applaud him, and Matt is congratulated all around for his hard work and dedication and loyalty to his father. He shakes hands and laughs and makes stupid jokes, and Felix stands directly at his side, smiling pleasantly and offering his hand as well when he's acknowledged. (He wiped it down as best he could, but it's not his fault Adams yanked them over here before Felix made it to the bathroom to actually wash his hands.) Things are winding down. Soon, it'll be time to go home for the night. Thank god.

"This has gone well, all things considered," Matt murmurs when they're slightly more alone. "Having fun?"

"Yeah, I guess so," Felix says with a shrug, pulling his hands from his pockets to rub his arms. He doesn't remember being cold before now, but suddenly his skin is breaking out in goosebumps. "Why's it so fucking freezing in here?"

Matt doesn't respond. Felix looks down at him to find that he's rigid and alert, staring into the crowd with all the intensity of a hunting dog pointing to a dead duck. Bewildered, Felix follows his gaze to find someone new approaching them. He's never seen the guy before. That's true of a lot of people here, but clearly, Matt has a vested interest in whoever it is. That's extremely unusual.

"Mr. Jones," the man greets in a low voice, adjusting his tie as he reaches them. "We meet again."

"And I'm sure that's why you're here," Matt says. He doesn't correct the name, nor does he throw on his innocent boy act. Felix feels like he's missing something. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Felix tenses when the man looks at him. There's something he doesn't like about that gaze.

"You seem to have already taken on a pet," the man sighs. "So you intend to stay. Very well; we'll be monitoring you more closely from now on. I would suggest you reconsider before we decide to act."

"Who the fuck are you?" Felix asks, voice low, and he feels Matt grab his wrist and pull. A quiet shut your mouth.

"That's not of your concern, and it's barely of his either," the man says. "You've been warned. We will escalate as necessary, Godking."

"I can't believe you have the balls to do this in a crowd of people," Matt mutters with a little disbelieving laugh. "Isn't hiding in plain sight your guys' whole thing?"

The man regards them both with no discernible expression, and Felix realizes the cold he's feeling isn't actually the temperature at all.

"Quite," the man agrees. "And they don't seem to have realized I'm here. Your pet probably won't remember, either."

Felix narrows his eyes, then looks down at Matt, who's still holding his wrist. He wants answers, but none are forthcoming, and a look around them reveals that no one is paying attention to this interaction at all.

"Pray you don't see me again," the man says, adjusting the cuffs of his sleeves. "Though I suppose you can only pray to yourself, with all the Gods dead."

He's gone before Felix can really even register that he's leaving. The party continues on, chatter and distant music and clinking glass. His head is spinning.

"Come with me," Matt mutters, tugging his wrist.

Matt doesn't speak again until they've made it all the way back down to the parking garage, and Felix doesn't find himself inclined to try and pressure him before then. The past few weeks have been filled with bombs of new information dropped on his head one after another, but this feels different. Maybe the fact that Matt—who only ever treats everything as a game—is also unsettled is making it worse.

"Do you remember what just happened?" Matt asks as they walk through rows of cars.

"Yeah," Felix says. He's struggling to remember what the guy looked like for some reason, but the rest is perfectly clear. "He seemed to think I wouldn't."

"Because most humans can't," Matt sighs. "Good, then. You're already being useful."

Felix stops walking, staring at Matt in disbelief. "Hold the phone. The fuck are you talking about? I'm—I've been helping you with the company and shit, isn't that useful?"

Matt comes to a stop as well, hands clasped behind his back, taking a deep breath before looking back Felix's way. "A handy bonus, sure. You've made things easier. Your utility is far more than corporate business, though, and I wouldn't treat you the way I do if you were just an assistant."

Felix clenches his hands into fists. "So what the fuck am I?"

"A weapon," Matt says coolly.

The tension between them now is stronger than anything was before, and Felix feels rooted to the spot—but Matt isn't brainwashing him this time. His eyes aren't even gold, and in the dim lighting it's hard to make out their normal color at all.

Felix lifts a shaking hand to run back through his hair. "You're interesting, Carter," he echoes in an obnoxious falsetto. "Not special."

Matt wrinkles his nose. "My voice is deeper than that."

"What the fuck is this game you're playing?!" Felix snaps, gesturing with both hands as he steps closer. "What's going on? What are you? What the fuck are you using me for?!"

Turning more Felix's way, Matt fixes him with a look that feels impossible to read, something darker and larger and angrier and colder than Felix knows how to parse. "Tell me this, Carter. Does it frighten you? Anger you? Or is it only being kept in the dark that bothers you so?"

"I don't—"

"You're a self-important egomaniac who cares more about your own reflection than what anyone else could ever think of you," Matt continues. "You don't just think you're destined for greatness, you know it. There isn't a shadow of a doubt in your mind that you're equal to the things you don't understand, and even if you're not, you'll just bring them crashing down to your level to make up the difference."

Felix stares, for once finding himself truly lost for words.

"This is what you want, isn't it?" Matt asks with a tilt of his head. "It's the chance to prove that you've always been more than anyone else. A break from the monotony of a life that doesn't recognize you for the miracle that you are. Are you truly angry with me for choosing you, and only you, to be my sword?"

Swallowing thickly, Felix finally breaks eye contact. "You could have fucking told me. I don't even know what it… means. You want me to be a hitman, or something?"

"Something like that." Felix looks over at Matt again, and he's met with a sharp, dangerous smile. "Don't worry, Carter. I still expect you to try and kill me. What use is a blade if it can't impale its owner as easily as anyone else?"

That feels like a backhanded insult. Most of what he just said does, honestly. Even if all of it was true. "And if I refuse?"

Matt shrugs. "You can, but you won't. It's not really worth entertaining, is it?" He brings his arms back to his front, pushing up one sleeve to check his watch. "We've been at this long enough. It's the weekend—go enjoy yourself. I'll see you on Monday."

Felix opens his mouth to argue, but there's really nothing he can think of to say. Or, at least, he can't pick from the dozens of questions on his mind. He watches Matt walk away from him, heading for his car, footsteps echoing through the garage.

"Matt!" Felix calls when they're several yards apart, and Matt stops to glance back at him. "Why did he say all the Gods are dead?"

"Oh, that." Matt continues on his way, waving a hand back over his shoulder in a dismissive gesture. "I don't like competition."

I don't know what I expected, Felix thinks with a weary sigh.

Chapter 9: Impending Storm

Summary:

The Godking isn't as unaffected by everything as he lets on.

Notes:

short matt break before the chapter i've most been looking forward to since i started writing this :) much like chapter 6, 10 will be a full rewrite of an earlier malix oneshot, and in this case it's the first one i ever wrote! i'll talk more about it when it's posted.

this was written pretty much immediately after i finished 8 since it's short and has no scene transitions. (that's also why i'm posting them at the same time.) hopefully matt's surprisingly human routine is fun to spectate

The human body requires a certain amount of upkeep. Sleep, food, fluids, hygiene: the four major cornerstones of keeping it in proper condition. Everything else is superfluous, and even the hard requirements can be fulfilled with very little effort if so desired. Eight hours on the dot, some proteins and carbohydrates in whatever form is easiest to obtain, a clean source of water, and making sure grime doesn't build up too much in any one area. Easy. The body stays in motion and the parts that matter, the stardust housed within, can be focused on.

Matt cracks his eyes open when the sun finally meets his face around noon. He considers rolling over at first, but the body is already sore enough from being sedentary too long. He shoves himself up on one arm, rubbing an eye with his other hand before looking over at the clock. Past time to get up, really.

He grabs the glasses he doesn't need, putting them on before sliding out of bed and stretching his arms up over his head. The weekend is generally time for whatever he didn't get to during the week, but he's not particularly focused on anything today. He considers changing into more clothes (he tends to sleep in a t-shirt and boxers, Matthew's preferred nightclothes as well), but he needs a shower, so maybe after.

The penthouse is spacious and well-decorated, colors mostly ranging somewhere between white and gold along with some solid wood furnishings. It's a nice place to live, pretty to look at and an easy source of pride, something to flaunt his wealth with. Matt's always been good at accruing wealth, but he didn't even need to try this time—Jones was rich and now all his funds belong to his "son".

In the kitchen, Matt gives himself a second to think before pulling a carton of eggs and some cheese out of the fridge. Omelets are easy, but more importantly they're tasty. Why even have a human body if he can't appreciate the senses it has? He grabs some seasonings from a nearby cabinet as well, then removes a pan from the drying rack next to the sink and gets to work. Once everything is mixed and starting to cook, he uses what little wait time he has to start the coffee maker.

Really, humans have come such a long way. Technology is amazing now. Matt's seen explosions of progression before, but this one was so tantalizing from a distance. Up close he can barely get enough of it. The coffee is ready by the time his omelet is done, brewed exactly the same as it comes out every time, and he sets things up to be easily cleaned later before taking a seat at his kitchen table.

It's all for his own benefit, but isn't everything?

His mind drifts back to the events of the day before while he eats, and though he refuses to let his frustration sour his meal, it's certainly souring his mood. Maybe that wasn't doing so hot to begin with. He was already worrying about an upcoming celestial alignment, so of course now is when the faceless demon returns to make more threats. This is a lot of things at once. He can handle it, sure, but he's never been particularly fond of anything unplanned happening when he's got separation to worry about.

Most of the time, being so far from his homeland isn't an issue. This is the one time when it genuinely is: he can't gauge the positions of the stars from so far away until he feels them resonating in his core. In all his time on Earth, he's never been able to make a coherent schedule out of it, no matter how many times he's tried. The flow of time out there just isn't the same. He'd hoped to avoid dealing with it in a body this time, but sometimes luck isn't in his favor.

He supposes he should be worrying about Carter, too. He hadn't expected things to go the way they have. His fault for doing something untested, but it seemed like a good idea at the time. For the most part it has been.

Matt puts his dishes in the sink when he's done, giving them a quick rinse and washing his hands before heading to the bathroom. He catches his vessel's eyes in the mirror while he undresses, and the shadows underneath them are more pronounced than usual. Stress, maybe. Or oversleeping. Not that it matters—it only bolsters the act he's usually performing.

He emerges from the shower half an hour later, painstakingly drying out his vessel's stupidly thick hair (at least it's pretty) and patting everything else down before slinging the towel around his waist. Rote, simple gestures, things he doesn't have to think too hard about even now. Is that Matthew or himself? Who's to say. Showering was certainly a little different last time.

Teeth brushed, hair combed, nails trimmed, Matt leaves the bathroom in only the towel and his glasses, dumping his nightclothes into the hamper before heading back to his room.

His, his, his. The ownership feels misplaced, sometimes. So much of this is temporary—or belongs more to the vessel than the serpent within. Matt won't pretend he has a concrete sense of identity, though. So much of himself now, at least in a social sense, is whatever he can make of himself inside a human body. That's why it's so easy to think of himself as "Matt" when that isn't who he is. Who he is just isn't an easily quantifiable subject.

Even the name he told Carter doesn't fully sum it up, does it?

Not that it matters. None of this does. Really, he could leave right now if he wanted to, abandon this life entirely and go be someone somewhere else. That's what the demons are asking him to do, anyway. Some part of him knows that they're more formidable that he gives them credit for. The Gods were too, but the faceless demon was right in his earlier observations—Matt took them all by surprise. Found out how to crack open the seams of human reality and grab their concepts by the throat, devour them whole like he has with so many things before. Honestly, it's no wonder his original identity so closely matches terrestrial snakes.

He won't be able to do that again. Not here, anyway. It would probably be wise to cut his losses and leave, and maybe he would if the situation were different. As it stands, he's been flagrantly disrespected, regarded as an annoyance more than a threat, and few things rile him up more. Even humans understand just how powerful—and dangerous—spite is as a motivator. Surely the demons know, too.

He dresses down, jeans and a graphic t-shirt with a hoodie on top, then heads out onto the balcony of the penthouse to survey the city below. It pays to be so high up. The world stretches out in all directions, skyscrapers and industrial buildings and residential blocks, streets that crisscross neatly between everything. The nearest rural area is some miles away. Matt prefers nature in a lot of respects, finds trees and rivers to be quaint and charming, but the city is a monument to human innovation and evolution. The strides they've made over a mere century are incredible.

Matt sighs, then climbs up onto the railing of the balcony, balancing there for several long moments. Humans are all different, their sizes and shapes and senses and memories, but through it all, he remains the same. As nebulous an idea as "he" even is, it is at least a consistent sense of being.

Massive feathered wings shift out from his back, using both the body's flesh and the clothing in the way to grow into the shape required. They're black as night, save for the luminous golden tips of the primary and secondary feathers. He's been using these for millennia now, their aesthetic a personal choice that resonates with his core. They're his favorite.

Matt dives from the balcony railing, wings catching the air currents as he extends them to their full length. He could shift into something else entirely, if he wanted—perhaps a bird of prey, or something entirely his own creation—but the truth is that he likes it this way. He likes this body, much as he's liked most of the ones that came before. There's something about the human shape that appeals to him.

If he's spotted, he's typically assumed to be a distant bird and paid little mind. Those who think he looks unnatural usually aren't believed when they recount the sight. In the rare few cases where he's been spotted by many at once, it just turns into folklore. There's really little to be concerned with as far as public image goes as long as he stays up high.

He needs this. Not only for the stress relief, but the energy used for any given shift is worth expending right now. He doesn't want to have too much when the separation finally comes.

The golden horizon Matt had envisioned before is now shrouded in rolling thunderstorms. There's a novelty to it, at least. The change of pace he'd accepted this life for is certainly delivering on the promise of being a new experience. At every turn, things he's never dealt with before are being thrust into his hands. That's worth it, isn't it?

At least Carter is entertaining.

Chapter 10: Stardust

Summary:

Felix is present for a life-changing event.

Notes:

thank you all for your patience. my life has fallen apart over the past few months in ways i wasn't prepared for, but this story still means the world to me, and i want to keep working on it.

i will be updating it solo from here on out.

edit, since i forgot: let's talk about the first ever malix oneshot! this was an early event in their story, as in, something that was planned very shortly after they were created, but it was originally intended to be more of a mid story thing. (this is NOT the mid story. we've only just begun, i've got a lot of stuff to put these two through.) it was originally more... romantic? matt was also a little more self-hating about it, calling himself vile instead of admonishing felix for trifling with creatures he doesn't understand. but the core of it, the climax of this chapter and the scene the whole thing kind of revolves around, was always there.

the choice to move this event earlier on was made for a variety of narrative reasons, and i'm happy with it. the cover for this chapter was originally going to be more of a literal scene, but what it is now is mostly symbolism. it's also baby felix! surprise, he dyes his hair black.

---

The aftermath of the party felt like a time when things were supposed to happen. Changes to the routine, more information, a disruption of any sense of normalcy. Everything had been turned too far upside down to just go back to the way it was. That was what Felix thought, anyway, but come Monday he was met with all the usual work and a boss who seemed less interested than usual in his company. Asking questions got all of nowhere, and in time Felix let it go, telling himself that they were never supposed to be close anyway.

He hates to admit that it stings. Matt knows how to hit him where it hurts, and being disregarded after everything that's happened is a blow to Felix's pride. He's honestly kind of furious. So much so that as the days pass, he doesn't notice anything unusual when maybe he should, too angry to really pay Matt much mind. It takes about a week for him to realize something is off.

Matt is… restless. Distracted. His orders are short and to the point, and the ways in which he shuts down any attempts at conversation are much the same. Felix had assumed he was just changing his behavior in the wake of whatever happened with that demon, but does that really make sense? Maybe he's weaker than he lets on, a bigger liar than Felix knows. Maybe he's afraid. That would be easy enough to believe, but it just doesn't feel right, either too simple or too out of character or something else that's difficult to quantify.

Matt waves off any inquiries about his state, from Felix or otherwise, and for a time it seems wise to leave him be. In the moments between tasks he now has to do, Felix tries to find more information on the world's Gods, but it's a fool's errand. There are too many major religions for a search like that to go anywhere. Were they the Gods from major religions? Is any one religion correct? If Matt ever improves his weird attitude, maybe Felix can ask.

There are no improvements. Another week passes, and by the end of it, Felix is starting to think something is actively wrong. It's less that he's concerned and more that he's baffled. Matt has to have lied about something, has to be hiding things, but actually figuring out what that might be is wasted effort. The world is so much bigger than Felix ever knew. He could make guesses, but he doesn't think he'd manage to land on anything useful.

He hears Adams complaining to one of the other executives about Matt being disorganized. A stupid kid who's already buckling under the pressure. He needs an actual secretary, something Jones always turned down. Felix remembers that. His own job was a position never filled before, a role he wrenched open with folders full of blackmail. Of course there wouldn't be a secretary.

Matt being disorganized feels just as wrong as everything else, though. He always has everything in order.

As the sun is lowering in the sky on Friday evening, Felix manages to catch up to Matt in the parking garage. They haven't seen each other properly in days—Matt's barely even left his office. Felix walks up to his bike with measured steps, not trying to be especially quiet, watching as Matt misses the keyhole in the door of his fancy black sports car repeatedly.

"Having trouble?" he finally asks, and Matt just about jumps out of his skin.

"I'm—I'm fine!" he snaps, clearly irritated as Felix moves closer to him. He must be regretting the parking spot reassignment. "Back off, I'm not in the mood to play."

"Yeah, obviously." Gesturing to the hand Matt's holding his key with, Felix asks, "Are you even good to drive? You're jittering like a drug addict."

Matt scowls at him. It's an all new expression, a fascinating display of actual contempt that puts his previous behavior to shame. "If you don't want to find out just how much punishment your body can take before it's forced to shut down, I'd suggest you not mock me right now."

"Never seen you this pissy before," Felix muses, not feeling especially threatened. Matt generally doesn't give any warning before he lashes out, after all. It feels hollow. "Seriously, what is up with you? You're acting so weird that I'm not even the only one who's noticed."

The tension in Matt's posture intensifies for a moment, but just as quickly it deflates back out of him, and he sighs, defeated. "Of course not. It's… This is all temporary. I'll be back to normal soon."

Something is obviously wrong, something Matt is well aware of, and it would probably be useful to find out what. Or at least it'd be interesting. This looks like some kind of weak spot, a flaw in his unshakable image that he's actually upset about having, unlike the energy shit he was talking about before. Maybe it's unwise to poke him when he's like this. Maybe Felix is too bitter about being dismissed to care.

"Gonna be real embarrassing if you crash that pretty car of yours on the highway," he casually points out, putting his hands in his jacket pockets. "You really don't seem like you can handle that right now."

Matt narrows his eyes. "Don't play coy, Carter, it doesn't suit you."

"I don't have an extra helmet or anything, but you could handle it if we turned into a smear on the pavement, right?" Felix tilts his head a little, not at all trying to hide how smug he feels. "That's way less likely than you crashing, but just in case."

"And you actually intend to take me to my apartment?" Matt asks, regarding him somewhat suspiciously.

"May as well find out where you live," Felix replies with a shrug.

After a second of consideration, Matt sighs again, then zips his hoodie all the way up and pockets his car key. "I suppose I don't have much to lose," he says, removing his glasses and folding them up to also place in one of his pockets. "Is there anything I should know?"

"What, about riding a bike?" Felix asks as Matt trudges past him. "Yeah, guess so. You have to lean with me on turns. We could crash otherwise."

The raised eyebrow that earns him is apparently all Matt feels like saying about how flippantly that information is presented. Felix smirks in response, then steps forward and mounts his bike, glancing over his shoulder once he's in place. "Get on. You'll have to hold onto me."

"Well I didn't see anything else to hold onto," Matt mutters. Felix waits for him to climb on, snickering when Matt's height gives him trouble and getting a glare in response. When they're both properly situated, Matt wastes surprisingly little time winding his arms around Felix's middle.

"Where to, your highness?"

The apartment Matt lives in is clear across town, but Felix is familiar enough with the area to be able to navigate there without issue. He can feel the little thread of connection between them as Matt presses tight against his back, and it's hard not to wonder just how typical this is. Once they adjusted, how many of Matt's disciples got to keep being this close to him? Maybe Felix is just hunting for proof that he's still special. He must be, though, for this to even be an option. Nothing that's happening right now feels like Matt's usual behavior. Being allowed to see it must count for something.

The sun is close to the horizon when Felix finds the street name Matt had mentioned, and from there it's not difficult to find the specific building his unit is a part of. Of course it would be one of those high rise apartment buildings—nothing but the best for the Godking. Once the bike is parked, Matt peels himself away from Felix's back with some apparent difficulty, then says nothing as he leads the way inside. The elevator ride up is as quiet as the one they'd taken down on the night of the party.

It's a penthouse. Of course it is. It wouldn't be good enough for Matt to just have an expensive unit in a high rise building, no no no. Felix should have guessed as much. He says nothing as Matt lets him in, but the obscene opulence of the apartment earns a disbelieving "holy shit" once they're both inside. Everything is so lavish. White furniture, a lot of gold trim, a ludicrous amount of pricey-looking decorations that are surely meaningless; the TV across from the long sectional couch is unreasonably large, bigger than anyone would ever need, and something tells Felix that the entertainment center under it mostly goes untouched. This place is a monument to pointless wealth.

Matt hadn't turned on the lights when they came in, but it doesn't matter. The far wall opposite the door isn't a wall at all—it's all glass, like one massive window out into the sky, split only by a door that leads out onto a balcony that's as wide as this entire room. The fading sunlight illuminates everything in sight, and Felix has to wonder if the curtains tightly wound at the very top of the glass are ever let down.

He shrugs off his jacket as Matt crosses the room to head towards the balcony. After a moment of consideration, he also elects to remove his tie and dress shirt, never one to lounge in work clothes. Not that Matt invited him to stay, or anything. He just hasn't told Felix to leave either. Once he's more comfortable, he takes a seat on the sectional, immediately noting that it's far too stiff to ever actually be used. Does Matt even really live here? Or is it all just for show?

The sunset casts long shadows across the floor, bathing Matt in soft hues of pink and gold as he stands stock still in front of the glass. He seems neither his usual confident self nor his unassuming act, coming across more as someone who's defeated and afraid, a man sentenced to the gallows. It all seems so out of place.

"Are you gonna tell me what the fuck is wrong?" Felix asks, hooking his elbows over the back of the couch. "Are you dying, or something?"

Matt doesn't answer. Felix sighs, wondering if there's even a point to any of this, if he should even bother. He's in Matt's home, after all. There's surely plenty to sift through among all of his things if he doesn't want to talk. Before Felix can bring himself to stand, though, Matt does finally speak:

"Are you still curious about what I am?"

Felix settles back into the couch. Matt hasn't turned to look at him, or really moved at all. "Obviously. Are you gonna tell me?"

There's silence again, at first, but before Felix can give up on getting more of a response, Matt starts to remove his hoodie. Once it's unzipped, he shrugs it off and drops it unceremoniously to the floor, and there's nothing unusual underneath—the typical casual wear that he borrowed from Matthew—but something far more interesting happens with the motion. It's like a cloud of dust is kicked up, drifting in loose billowy shapes around Matt's shoulders, some glittering miasma that the sunset shines right through.

"We don't have a name," Matt murmurs, some unnatural edge to his voice that Felix hasn't ever heard before. "We never needed one. The demons like the term 'starborn' for me, which I guess is accurate enough." He sighs, then turns away from the glass, slowly walking alongside it as the glittering fog around him trails lazily after. "I'm not from here. I'm sure you knew that."

"Might've gathered," Felix mutters, watching the miasma glimmer.

"I'm from… unfathomably far away," Matt continues, gesturing loosely with his hands as he turns around to walk the other way. "Past anything you could imagine, trillions of light-years out in the cosmos and then even farther. A place in between places, hidden in the pockets of reality where time doesn't flow the same."

Felix blinks. "That's… poetic?"

"You've heard my language," Matt deadpans, stopping to look over at him. "The way I said my name is what all of it is like. Normally, I'd describe my homeland that way." He sighs again, running both hands back through his hair, the glittery fog dancing around his motions. "But I may as well use your words instead. I want you to consciously understand me, not just know."

None of that really made any sense. Felix considers saying as much, then decides it's not worth it and lifts one hand to wave it in Matt's direction. "Keep going, then."

"I was sent away a long time ago," Matt continues, resuming his pacing as he speaks. "Banished. And when that happened, I was stripped of my original form… sent out into the cosmos as an intangible entity, a cluster of essence and being. Stardust. Like a soul adrift without a body." Banished? Felix doesn't manage to ask about that before Matt moves right along. "It's how I assume mortal forms, how I steal their bodies for my vessels. I have no form of my own. I move inside, hollow out a space for myself, then condense my being as much as I can into that space."

So that weird substance drifting around him… "You said you were too big for that, right?"

Matt glances back, then looks out the glass again. "I'm far more vast than mortal bodies can handle naturally, yes. The process is slow because I have to adapt the form to my essence… Make sure that I won't overload it. I've gotten pretty good at that. Expending energy also makes the fit less… tight. When it builds in me it makes everything stronger. More unstable."

Felix leans forward, bracing his elbows on his knees. The sunset is turning swiftly into twilight, stars slowly appearing outside, dimmed by the lights of the city. "So… If I had to guess, not having your original body anymore is why this instability happens?"

Matt looks over at him again. In the light that defines the edge of his face, he seems almost surprised. "That's right. This balance of size and power isn't an inherent trait, I gained it when I became formless."

"Don't look so shocked," Felix snorts. "I'm listening, you know. I can put the pieces together." He nods in Matt's direction. "So is that what all this is? You got too big?"

Matt averts his gaze for a moment, then steps away from the glass to approach the couch. "No. A good guess, but no. This is something else… A consequence of being where I'm from." He sits down with maybe a foot between them, mirroring Felix's body language as he does. "A celestial alignment, like the ones humans love to base their stories on. They happen back home too. I'm too far away to be able to gauge when they'll happen, but my essence is still bound to where I was born, and when the right alignments occur…"

Felix considers that, then raises a hand, sweeping his fingers through some of the stardust swirling around Matt's shoulders. It clings to his fingertips, wisping away from his skin after a moment or two, and it feels like nothing at all. Matt's watching him the entire time.

"So this astrology calendar bullshit is pulling you apart, or something?" Felix asks. That actually earns a little breath of a laugh.

"Yes and no." Matt sits up a little straighter, bracing his hands on his knees. "I'm being pulled towards home. It's not strong enough to truly summon me back, but it… disrupts my presence in this reality. Like I'm out of sync with my own vessel." He raises his hands, laying one over top of the other. "Like oil on water. Together, but separate. It's been happening gradually… And tonight, when the moon is at its peak, I'll experience it in full. After that I'll return to normal."

"So that's why you've been acting weird?" Felix asks, wrinkling his nose. "Because you could feel it happening?"

"Outside of a vessel, I can move between planes of existence," Matt murmurs, looking towards the wall of glass again. "My being isn't made for the reality here. When this happens, I'm stuck experiencing it anyway. It… doesn't feel good."

"You could have stayed home," Felix points out. "Instead of go to work."

"And let that faceless shithead take over?" Matt hisses. "No thanks. He's not usurping me without a fight."

The moon is full, bright and bloated as it rises in the sky, maintaining a certain amount of light in Matt's living room even in the dark. The stars almost seem more prominent than usual. Felix tries to think of why Matt would call the demon faceless, then realizes he genuinely can't remember the face at all. God, demons are weird.

"Is there actually a risk of that?" he asks. "You acted like you had everything under control."

Matt turns to face him, and even in the gloom, Felix can tell right away that his eyes aren't the usual green. They're too dark for that, like inky black holes, devouring any light that could illuminate them.

"I'm a very good actor," Matt murmurs.

There's no way he'd have allowed any of this if it was a weakness Felix could use to his advantage. Killing his body would probably work at the height of it, but then what? Felix doesn't want to just free Matt's starstuff to go somewhere else. The goal is to kill the actual entity, the Godking, the essence that swims through the air between them. He's certainly vulnerable now, more by the minute as the air in the room grows steadily colder, but it's a vulnerability Felix is permitted to be present for and as such must not be that exploitable.

"I don't get you," Felix sighs. "One moment I'm nothing, the next I'm like your biggest confidant. Why don't you—"

The words die in his throat when he touches Matt's shoulder. The cold he feels there is unnatural, not ice nor chill but something that evokes thoughts of the vacuum of space. It's gone as quickly as it came, Matt jolting away like he's been burned.

Felix watches stardust swirl around his fingertips for a moment before it drifts back towards Matt. He's leaning away from Felix, shoulders hunched, looking altogether like a cornered animal. Their eyes meet, bewildered to alarmed, and the blackness of Matt's irises are now bleeding out into the rest of his eyes. When Felix reaches towards him, he bares sharpened fangs. "Keep your hands to yourself," he hisses, his voice both a distant echo and a whisper directly inside of Felix's skull.

That little thread between them is present again.

Felix continues reaching, and the threat is proven sincere: Matt bites his hand, fangs sinking into the webbing between thumb and forefinger as Felix chokes back a cry of pain. Fuck, that hurts.

"Calm down," he growls, leaving his hand in Matt's mouth as he reaches around to find his companion's shoulder with the other. Matt releases him with a gasp, lurching away from the touch only for it to bring them closer together this time. "Calm down," Felix repeats more gently, herding Matt up against his side. The cold is unfathomable, a vast emptiness, and the connection between them responds in a way that almost feels eager.

"St-op," Matt croaks, his resistance growing sluggish and weak as Felix pulls him even closer. He doesn't know what compels him, really. He could claim it's because it's upsetting Matt, and surely both of them could believe that, but that's not it. It's something else, some driving force demanding he get closer, and closer, and closer. Is Matt's essence intoxicating to humans or something?

When Felix manages to drag Matt into his lap, the fight seems to leave him entirely. He's breathing hard, the stardust swirling around them both in great clouds as every sound Matt makes echoes through the layers of reality between them. After hoisting Matt's legs up to lay across his own, Felix raises his wounded hand, still bleeding, touching Matt's chin with his fingertips before he notices something else. The highest concentration of stardust looks like it's leaking directly out of his chest.

When Felix's fingertips touch the spot, there's no shirt there, no body underneath—it's like the surface of a pool of water, the barest resistance before something deeper. Any further motions are arrested by Matt suddenly grabbing his wrist.

"Don't," he whispers, voice reverberating through Felix's very sense of being. Despite the way he's all but limp against the arm Felix has around his shoulders, his grip is tight as a vice, almost a tourniquet for the wound on Felix's hand. For a moment they're both left at a standstill.

"Does it hurt?" Felix asks, far more intrigued than concerned.

Matt's grip falters. Felix nudges him closer with the arm around him, and Matt exhales slowly, a rattling and ethereal sound that barely sounds like breath at all. He draws his legs up in clumsy, jerking motions, curling up in Felix's lap like he's trying to make himself as small as possible, to defy the very thing that he is. When Felix attempts to move his hand again, he finds himself no longer stopped, wrist sliding through slack fingers as Matt slumps into his shoulder.

All at once, Felix isn't entirely there anymore. He's somewhere else, sometime else, laying on his back in the dewy grass of a large field behind his neighborhood. Out in the suburbs, the light pollution is far less, and on this night he sees the entirety of the universe stretched out above in a great canopy of stars. Felix is alone, but not lonely. He is shunned by his peers and by his family, but that's exactly what he wants. Beneath the cosmos, accompanied only by crickets and distant coyote howls, he's as content as he's capable of being. For a moment he contemplates never returning home.

Matt—or the thing that he is, the whispers of stars and galaxies spilling from his lips all those weeks ago—feels like what looking up at the night sky feels like.

Back in the present, Felix's hand has disappeared into Matt's chest, stardust swirling around his wrist as his fingertips brush against something that feels somehow both solid and intangible. He reaches for it, coaxing it into his palm, stroking his thumb along it even as they completely phase through each other. It's like they're not touching at all.

Except they are touching. They're making contact in a way so far beyond Felix's comprehension that he feels adrift in the sea of it, lost and confused, the anchor of Matt's essence the only thing keeping him afloat. The thread of a connection that had gone almost dormant before tonight feels stronger than ever now, like it winds between them, delivering sensations as alien and unnatural as what Felix feels in his hand. This is Matt, not just conceptually but literally—the very core of him, what he is when he has no human identity, weaving between Felix's fingers and pressing into his skin. It's both massive and weightless, cold as death and warm as a kiss, as empty and as full as the universe hanging in the sky outside.

It's more than Felix was prepared for. Then again, he wasn't really prepared for anything. The point of it feels lost, his thoughts vague and disjointed as all of his focus lies on what's happening in Matt's core. Moonlight creeps farther and farther across the floor as the night crawls on, and whatever's going on with Matt starts to ramp up in intensity, the disruption he'd mentioned happening in full. He's been panting against Felix's neck, a suspicious dampness there suggesting he's crying, but his sounds and shivers start to ebb into still silence as the essence within him winds firmly around Felix's hand. The way it moves almost reminds him of a snake.

Slowly, as the temperature in the room drops even further but the thing in Felix's palm becomes more tangible, it dawns on him that Matt wasn't prepared for this either. He wasn't expecting it. Allowing Felix here for this event, clearly not being threatened by him… Felix wasn't supposed to be able to reach past Matt's vessel. The thing he intends to kill is the very entity wholly within his grasp. What if he crushed it in his fist? Yanked it out of Matt's chest to confront in the very reality that hurts it? Could it be that easy? Maybe that's why he felt so compelled to do this. Maybe this is the answer.

He begins closing his hand around Matt's essence, squeezing the part that hugs his palm, feeling all the more like it actually is some kind of snake as it shifts under his fingers. He squeezes tighter, wondering just how much like a snake it is, wondering how easy it would be to break its spine—

A wave of petrifying fear suddenly washes over him like a tidal wave. He falters, breath catching as the sensation rolls his stomach and seizes his heart, a severity he's never felt with that emotion before. He's not even afraid of anything here, where is this coming from? It feels foreign, some invading sensation he didn't ask for, and he finds himself unthinkingly resting his cheek against Matt's head to try and steady himself. Murder attempt momentarily abandoned, his grip relaxes, and almost immediately he feels the terror washed away by shaky relief. That only confuses things more, makes him start to question the reality of the situation he's even in. Is Matt doing something to him?

Matt remains still, almost unnaturally so. Is the body dormant? Dead? Felix lets out a trembling exhale before running this thumb along the body of Matt's essence, and the motion must be soothing, because it begins winding languidly around his hand again. Comfortable. That's what Felix is feeling, anyway. Or what his body tells him he's feeling. Galaxies and black holes leave glittering trails of stardust on his skin, this ethereal little cosmic serpent imbuing their contact with even more of the vast universe that hangs between them. Felix relaxes into it, thoughts of fulfilling his plans bleeding out of his mind as the grandeur of Matt's being laps at the edges of his own soul.

Maybe it wouldn't be fun if the chase was over already, anyway.

They stay there for who knows how long. As the moonlight changes angles across the floor, Felix hears Matt breathing shallowly again, the stardust in his palm starting to phase back into intangibility. As the minutes pass, Matt's breathing becomes more steady, the temperature rising back to something normal as Felix feels the pocket of unreality within Matt's vessel starting to push him away. The entity within is no longer solid enough to feel like much of anything, the empty chill of space farther and farther away, and for a moment Felix does his best to hold onto it.

Matt sucks in a gasping breath, then plants one of his hands on Felix's chest, clumsily shoving away from him as his other hand seizes Felix's wrist. It all happens so fast that he can't really fight back, startled by the choked sound of pain that leaves Matt when he yanks the intruding hand out of his chest. Felix had assumed the lack of a response earlier meant it didn't hurt.

"Hey, easy," he says as Matt nearly tumbles off of his lap, prevented only by Felix holding his shoulders tighter with the arm still wrapped around him. Matt hisses in response, baring his fangs with far more intensity than he's ever displayed before, nose scrunched up and lips pulled back like he's a feral dog. His eyes are still jet black, but only now does Felix see the tiny glimmers of stars deep within those voids. There's something thrumming between them, molten hot and violent, a sort of rage Felix knows can't be his own. Is he feeling what Matt is feeling…?

Before Matt can make good on whatever threat he's making, Felix yanks his hand free, then places it on Matt's cheek before it can be restrained again. Maybe that's the stupidest thing he could possibly do right now. Matt bit him earlier, after all—but with his hand in view again, Felix realizes the wound is gone. When did that happen? "Calm down," he murmurs, his thumb finding a still-damp tear track under one of Matt's eyes and brushing it from his skin. He doesn't know if this will get him anywhere. He doesn't even really know why he thought to try it. It was like some sort of intrusive thought, an idea not fully his own.

Somehow, it works.

Matt's snarl slowly fades, his angry panting winding down into something calmer as the distant galaxies in his eyes start to fade away. His irises are golden at first, glowing more dimly than usual, and then they're green again, perfectly human. It's only in that stage that Matt actually seems to focus on Felix's face rather than stare through him. When he opens his mouth again, his teeth are blunt.

"Are you fucking stupid?" he sighs, clearly exhausted.

Felix smirks, hiding the way relief floods his body behind a veneer of smugness. "There we go," he croons, stroking Matt's cheek. "There's my angel."

"You are stupid," Matt mutters. He doesn't try to move away from the touch, though, scrubbing the tears from under his other eye with an aggravated little groan. "I almost tore you to shreds."

"What, didn't plan on bringing me back from that?" Felix scoffs. "If you need a little stress relief…"

"I need you to be less reckless," Matt snaps back. "You're no use to me with no sense of self preservation. Need I remind you that you're stumbling headlong into things you're incapable of understanding?"

Felix shrugs, releasing Matt's shoulders to flop back against the cushions. "Feel like I understand things a lot more than I used to." He watches Matt continue scrubbing his face, not making any attempt to move away, then adds, "All things considered, you're really pretty on the inside."

Matt squints over at him. "You're the sort of person who'd pick up one of those poisonous frogs, aren't you."

Felix can't help the little snort of a laugh that leaves him. "The fuck does that mean?"

"The most deadly, dangerous things can be beautiful, Felix," Matt mutters, looking away again. "You have no idea what you just did. To breach the barrier between our realities…"

"Do you know what I just did?" Felix asks, raising an eyebrow. "You said this whole…" He waves one hand in a loose gesture. "Celestial event would draw you into this reality in full. All I did was reach in, angel. There wasn't anything stopping me."

Matt doesn't respond. He's different, like this. Not like he's been since they met, not like he was after the party, not like he's been these past two weeks. Felix studies the soft curve of his face as Matt continues looking elsewhere, and it's wonder, really, that such a thing can exist in such a pretty little body. Was Matthew himself a more fitting host?

"You never call me Felix," he ventures when it seems Matt intends to stay silent. "Not sincerely, anyway."

Matt sighs, rubbing his face for a moment before finally removing himself from Felix's lap to sit next to him instead. "Do I really need to describe the sheer intimacy of what you just did? You may as well have earned first name basis, at least for the moment." He tilts his head back against the couch, looking vacantly up at the ceiling as Felix continues studying his face. "You keep surprising me. I think there's something wrong with you."

It's so out of left field that Felix can't help but laugh. "No shit? I'm so fucked up that you can't predict me, huh?"

"More or less."

"Yeah, well, the sentiment is mutual," Felix assures. "You're fucking bizarre. Almost a shame to kill you eventually." Matt glances over at him, and Felix smirks. "Don't worry, I'll mount your head on my wall or something. Commemorate what an incredible little thing you were."

Matt watches him, expressionless, before a matching smirk graces his lips. A little thrum of amusement winds through Felix's heart, different than what he's already feeling. Something unusual has definitely taken root between them. "I look forward to your attempts. Seems you got close tonight, didn't you?"

Felix's smirk falters. So he'd been right, when he started to close his fist around the thing in Matt's chest. (Around Matt himself.) No wonder Matt ripped his hand out the way he did. To have almost succeeded…

"These events happen centuries apart," Matt muses, his voice regaining some of the playful lilt Felix is used to. "So that was your only chance. You keep taking me off guard, though, don't you? You might come up with ideas I'd never have dreamed of. And who knows?" He tips his head forward again, eyes practically gleaming. "Maybe you'll succeed in killing me."

"Your faith in me is heartwarming," Felix deadpans. "I must really be something special if you actually think I could do it."

Matt huffs a little laugh. "Still hung up on that, huh?"

"Like you didn't know exactly what you were doing when you said it."

That earns a more sincere laugh, and then Matt shifts closer, laying his head on Felix's shoulder. It's startlingly affectionate as a gesture, but Matt himself has already acknowledged the intimacy of how the night has gone. "I do so love to wound the pride of fragile men."

"Really?" Felix scoffs, folding his arms. "I couldn't tell."

Chapter 11: Change of Plans

Summary:

Matt isn't used to having to adjust his plans, but he can make this work.

Notes:

there will eventually be another full-length matt chapter, i promise. enjoy yet another short one

"But we were having a moment!"

Matt shoves Carter out of his apartment with one hand on the small of his back, handing him his shirt and jacket when he tries to turn around. "And now it's over," he says pleasantly. "Have a nice weekend, Carter."

"You're fucking hiding something," Carter accuses, putting his foot in the door before Matt can close it. The desire to simply shut the door hard enough to maim the offending appendage is barely choked down, and only because the effort to fix it right now would be annoying.

"I'm always hiding something," Matt deadpans, raising both eyebrows. "I'm hiding lots of things. Is this news to you?"

"I just touched your soul or whatever," Carter shoots back. "I'm, like, the most unique human you've ever met! Stop pretending none of that just happened!"

That's the problem, Matt thinks bitterly, but he keeps his expression neutral. "If I tell you that you're God's most special pretty princess, will you go away?"

Carter's face goes red. "I'm—I am special to you, stop denying it!"

Matt smirks up at him, thrilled to have been handed control of the situation so easily. Finally, something going in his favor. "Oh? I said God, not Godking. Do you want to be my most special pretty princess? We can probably arrange that." Carter makes an indignant sound, but before he can figure out any words, Matt makes a big show of pondering his foot where it remains in the doorway. "Huh. Why am I holding the door open for you?"

Carter reels out of the doorway "just" in time for the door to slam shut. How fortunate for him, and not at all intended. Matt waits.

"I am gonna be such a problem for you on Monday," Carter growls through the door.

"Looking forward to it!" Matt replies cheerfully, remaining where he is until Carter's footsteps have vanished past the electronic ding! of the elevator. Finally alone, Matt turns the deadbolt, takes a deep breath, and lets it out in the most pitiful, agonized groan he's ever intentionally uttered.

Well. That helped, a little.

This wasn't how it was supposed to go. Letting Carter bring him home during such a vulnerable event was already stupid, but Matt had been certain there was nothing to worry about. He'd been right in the sense of his own personal safety, even if he's allowed Carter to think otherwise, but the rest? He rubs his face like it will banish the tear tracks if he does it hard enough, then miserably stomps back into the apartment to throw himself onto the stupid white-leather sectional couch he never actually uses. It's really not very comfortable.

Forget horizons and storms and weapons. For the first time in… in he doesn't know how long, he feels truly present in the life he's slotted himself into, and he doesn't like it. Nothing has gone how it was meant to. Frankly, it's unprecedented, and letting Carter know any of it was actually significant was a huge mistake. This doesn't happen. This never happens. How could he let it happen?

He was out of his mind, of course. Matt turns his head to stare vacantly at the TV across from where he is, inert glass reflecting vivid moonlight. He was in an extremely vulnerable state, he wasn't thinking right, and Carter is just the right combination of reckless and stupid to have been able to take advantage of it.

With another groan, Matt rolls onto his back and covers his face with both hands. What is he, a child? He's not going to get anywhere pretending Carter is less than what he actually is. He's human, yes, and no human is truly unique, but Matt has hardly met every human there ever was. Before now, accessing other humans involved extensive travel or leaving a vessel entirely, and he's generally stayed confined to his congregations. No human he's ever actually known has been like Carter.

That was supposed to only mean Carter was of more use to him than the average toy. That he was a rarity. A new experience, like so much of this stupid futuristic life has been, but not one of a kind.

Matt knows he has to face the facts. Whatever Carter was before, he has become one of a kind after the events of tonight, surpassing all humans before him by connecting with "the Godking" on a level he's never been connected with before.

By anyone.

Ever.

"I should just kill him and get the fuck out of here," Matt mumbles into his hands. He knows he doesn't want to, and that's the worst part. He'd felt so at peace in Carter's hand, as if he had somehow arrived home, a serenity and belonging he's never truly known. He doesn't know if that was because he was being cradled in his most intimate state, or because it was Carter specifically, and the thought of truly trying to discern which it was makes him feel ill.

This is supposed to be fun. When did it stop being fun? He's gone through vessel separation before and bounced back fine, even after a few weeks of misery. This is different. This is annoying.

He drops his arms like they're dead weights and stares up at the ceiling. What would Carter say if he knew just how attached Matt was to his routines? How the farther off the rails this life goes, the more out of his depth he becomes? This CEO gig was supposed to be a change of pace, not an upheaval of everything he knows. Does Carter have any idea?

"I don't give a shit what Carter thinks," Matt huffs to absolutely no one, because he has no pets, no toys, no loyal right hand who remains ever at his side to validate all of his pointless one-off human thoughts. Carter was supposed to be that, and he isn't. He refused to be. Matt let him refuse to be. Now he's managed to become Matt's favorite human in all of time and existence.

Enough of that. He's never been one to pity himself. With a sigh, Matt drags himself up into a sitting position, rubbing his face again before standing. What was it he'd been told once? It was something about how one is shaped by the experiences they endure. Images and emotions that conveyed to him the idea that he would be the most he could be once he'd lived longer, lived more.

He'd resented it at the time, and truthfully, he still resents it now. As he walks through the penthouse, grabbing his hoodie and glasses from the floor on the way, he reminds himself how angry he was. It was so long ago, but he can still feel it in the core of himself, that indignant fury when he was told that things simply were the way that they were. He'd scorned his own kind for being stuck in their ways, and what has he done now?

Well, no one can claim he's inexperienced anymore, that's for fucking certain. He leaves his things in his room, then heads to the bathroom instead, the body responding unfavorably when he turns on the light. He's still getting used to how bright they can be now, but Matthew is full of memories just like this, wandering into the bathroom in the middle of the night and blinding himself.

Hm. Now there's a thought.

Matt turns his attention to the mirror. Tired green eyes meet his gaze, and he braces his hands on the edge of the sink, pondering the reflection before him. No one was more in-tune with this new, modern human world than Matthew Jones Jr. was. He may be dead, but he's far from gone: everything that he was lies within the being now living behind his eyes. For so long now, vessels have been little more than disguises, a role in the script that gets rehashed with every single life. Where is the script now?

No. No more roles, no more rehearsed lines. If this life is new then it will be new. It's time to embrace going off the rails. The demons will wish they'd let the Godking do as he pleased, and Carter? Well, maybe it's time to lean into his unanticipated knowledge, rather than away from it. What good is a weapon if its master doesn't know exactly how best to use it? Though it may be time to focus his efforts on making that weapon sharper.

"I think you and I got off on the wrong foot," Matt says to his reflection, offering the mirror a relaxed smile. "I underestimated this new venture. I thought I'd only need your face, but your memories have helped me a few times now, haven't they?" He leans back, setting his hands on his hips. "I think I need to actually get to know you, Matthew. You'll open up to me, won't you?"

Chuckling to himself, Matt prepares to start his nightly routine before faltering, eyes still on the mirror. After a moment of hesitation, he leans close again, running two fingers down the ghost of stardust tear tracks that linger on his cheeks. He can still feel the warmth of a thumb brushing them from his face, vivid in his memory.

Carter isn't an affectionate person. Where in the world did he get the idea to be so tender?

How did he know it would work?

Chapter 12: Powerplay

Summary:

Things are different, now.

Notes:

okay, we're back on track. thank you for the nice comments when i finally uploaded 10 and 11. i'm unsure how quickly i'll be getting to work on 13, as i have fanfics to update on my main account and am still working on organizing my malix plans, but i'm happy to be working on the story again.

please always feel free to comment and engage! check out the malix tumblr for meta, wip snippets, art, and posts i reblog there because they fit matt and/or felix. i may upload some AU stories or canon sidestory stuff here eventually, there are some main AU verses i love dearly and would love to properly write for as well as some one-off stuff i just enjoy thinking about.

oh, and all three major playlists are now available to check out everywhere:
felix: youtube, spotify, tidal
matt: youtube, spotify, tidal
break the skin: youtube, spotify, tidal

Being on top of the world feels so right.

A penthouse suite up in the stratosphere, interior decorated with gold and jewels, obscene and lavish. An entire nation of people at his whims. Money as far as the eye can see, power that reaches all the way down into the depths of hell itself, all who languish beneath him completely at his mercy. This is what was always supposed to happen. This is how it was always supposed to be.

Felix stands by the railing of a massive balcony, sipping champagne while the world clamors below him, desperate for his gaze. It's all his. Everything and everyone, his. The fireworks blanketing the sky spell out his name in flashes of brilliant color and everyone screams for his attention. His approval. His benevolence. It would be so easy to snuff them all out, to grind them beneath his heel at his own discretion.

He laughs, tightens his grip around the warm body pressed into his side. Our legacy, he says, grinning, proud of all they've achieved. We've done so much together, he continues. And the person with him—

The person under his arm, grinning up at him with sharp teeth, eyes shining gold like the lights of the city below—

His partner in all he's accomplished—

"Did you ever think you could do it without me?" Matt asks in a purr. "You needed me from the start, loverboy."

---

Felix comes to with a start, dazed and confused, his cheek in a puddle of drool on his pillow. It takes him a few seconds to realize it was his alarm that woke him up, and as he drags his phone from his bedside table to shut it off, he sees it's been going off for a few minutes now. Swearing under his breath, he shoves himself up into a sitting position, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he tries to remember what he'd been dreaming about. It already seems to have largely faded away.

His roommate is already out, and Felix doesn't suspect it's actually going to be a problem if he's late to work, so he takes his time making breakfast and washing up before finally leaving the apartment. There's no part of him interested in entertaining the thought that he's just trying to procrastinate. It's not like he's afraid to see Matt again, that would be stupid. He just isn't looking forward to it either.

He finally arrives at the top floor of the company building an hour and a half after he's supposed to, half-heartedly wondering how best to make good on his threat and sort of wanting to just hole up in his office all day instead. Not two steps from the elevator, Sebastian is suddenly in front of him.

"There you are," Sebastian says, clearly relieved. "I almost thought you weren't showing up today."

Felix scowls down at him. "Can you really not find anything better to do than bother me?"

"I'm not trying to bother you!" Sebastian objects as Felix steps around him. "Stuff is happening—I was just keeping an eye on things, like you wanted!"

Did he ask Sebastian to do that? Probably. Gives the stupid bastard enough reason to be on the top floor, anyway. With a heavy sigh, Felix slows his pace towards his office so Sebastian can more easily follow him. "Fine. What happened?"

"Matt has a secretary."

Felix stops in his tracks, turning to stare at Sebastian in bewildered frustration. "He what?"

Finally vindicated in having something worth sharing, Sebastian seems to perk up. "I had time to come up here when I first clocked in, and when I saw you weren't in yet, I was poking around and saw the other execs introducing her." He gestures in the direction of the executive offices. "I've never seen her before, and I don't think Matt had either."

Felix glares down the hall, everything else momentarily forgotten. He had heard Adams bitching about this, but how the fuck did the lot of them actually hire someone without Matt's input? Or—no, wait. Matt just didn't tell him. That has to be it. His quick recovery on Friday and subsequent dismissal of Felix's company was more than enough proof that he still has every intention of keeping his so-called "business partner" in the dark. Any surprise was only part of his act, as per usual.

"Thanks for the info," Felix growls, starting to head for Matt's office. Sebastian scrambles to follow.

"H-hey, wait, I wanted to ask—"

"Not the time," Felix grunts, side-stepping an employee headed the opposite direction. "Go back to your own job."

Much to his surprise, Sebastian jogs ahead and turns around, stopping Felix from advancing. They make unsteady eye contact for a few moments. This is actually the boldest thing Sebastian has ever done.

The adrenaline seems to have already left him, however, as he fiddles with his hands. "U-um. It's just—the party, a few weeks ago…" Felix narrows his eyes, and Sebastian takes a step back. "I just—I wanted to ask what's going on with you two! I thought you were trying to get one over on him…"

I don't have time for this, Felix thinks with an audible sigh of disgust. "You think I just stopped trying to do that? You should know how I operate by now."

"But…" Sebastian falters, then plows ahead before Felix has chastise him for it: "You've never done it this way before! I-I mean, if you're just manipulating him, you don't have to…"

Right. Of course. "My sex life isn't your business," Felix growls. "Move."

"So you're into guys?"

Felix's gaze snaps back to Sebastian's face. For a moment, he feels completely stalled out, only now conceptualizing Sebastian's view of this situation. He was so focused on hurting his idiot coworker's feelings that he'd somehow failed to consider what publicly fooling around with Matt implies. Visibly nervous, Sebastian meets his eyes anyway, not backing down.

"…I'm into femboys," Felix decides, on the spot.

Is that even true? He's not sure. It's never mattered before. He steps around Sebastian as the other tries to sputter out a response, clearly not prepared for the answer he got. The fact that he asked at all was ill-advised to begin with, and Felix has no idea what he wants out of the subject, but it's not important either way. There are much bigger things to be dealing with.

There's a desk set up outside of Matt's office. It wasn't there before, and looking at it, Felix doubts it was installed over the weekend—it's one of those big receptionist desks, curving out of the wall with a fresh coat of plaster where it connects. Was this happening over the last week? Matt has to have been aware, then. The bastard.

A woman peers at him over the top of a flat screen monitor. Felix feels his skin prickle, something about her gaze setting him on edge despite the placidity of it. She's pretty, if nothing else.

"May I help you?" she asks when Felix heads for the office door. "Mr. Jones doesn't have any appointments scheduled for right now."

Felix wrinkles his nose. "You know I'm his assistant, right?"

She watches him calmly, eyes hooded, posture relaxed as she clasps her hands on her desk. "Mr. Adams informed me that it was a meaningless position. You need to go through the same channels as anyone else."

The rage that's swiftly rising to a boiling point in Felix's chest is momentarily halted when Matt's office door swings open. He's dressed in formal wear again, looking right back to normal after the events of Friday evening, and if Felix didn't know better he'd almost think there was relief on Matt's face when their eyes meet. (He wishes he could feel it, but the connection from their last meeting seems to have gone dormant again.) "Oh, good, there you are," Matt says, and that does sound like relief. "You're late. I thought you were going to bother me?"

Before Felix can respond, Matt's new secretary speaks up: "He doesn't have an appointment, Mr. Jones."

Felix watches Matt take a deep breath, hand visibly clenched tight around the doorknob, before offering the woman the most blatantly insincere smile Felix has seen from him yet. "He doesn't need one, Valerie, he's my assistant. Mind your business."

The smile she returns is just as fake. "You know I can't do that."

Bewildered by the powerplay that seems to be occurring here, Felix doesn't figure out what to say before Matt grabs his wrist and yanks him into the office, slamming the door behind them both. He's released once they're alone, and as Matt paces away while raking his hands through his hair, Felix cautiously removes his jacket.

"That was… weird," he ventures as he hangs it up. "I figured you wanted her there yourself."

Matt turns on his heel to give him an incredulous look. "Are you joking? First of all, I don't need a secretary, I can more than easily handle that sort of busywork by myself. The rest of the C-suite went over my head while I was still out of it." That's reassuring, at least. "And secondly," Matt continues, "surely you don't think I enjoy cooperating with demons?"

Felix stares at him, taken aback, then looks over at the door. "She's…?"

"I suppose you wouldn't be able to tell," Matt sighs. "They mingle with humans for a reason."

"I can tell when I'm closer to them," Felix objects, turning back to Matt with a frown. When Matt cocks his head, curious, Felix lets out a snort. "They feel like… I dunno. Too much. The air around them, it's kind of dense."

Matt makes a soft sound in his throat. "You knew I wasn't one, when we met."

"Well, yeah," Felix says, watching as Matt draws closer. He could contest that being when they met, but as far as Matt's concerned, it is. "When you kill demons, they vanish. Just some blood on the floor."

He's half expecting Matt to suggest the stupid things just get up and walk away, but instead Matt is regarding him carefully, clearly not in a snide mood. "They return to their Underworld," he explains. "Much as my own body regenerates after a fatal wound, so too do theirs. Just not where you left them."

That explains some things, at least. "You know I've killed them before," Felix says. (Never mind that he's only killed a single one.) "Is me being able to pick them out a surprise?"

"I do know that," Matt confirms, folding his arms behind his back. "I was unaware that you could pick them out before you killed them. Most of the ones here on the surface don't make themselves known." He tilts his head again, then looks towards the door. "Let me level with you, Carter. Your utility as a weapon is no longer greater if you're kept in the dark. In fact—" He turns away, heading across the room towards the far side of his office. "It's high time I give you some real answers."

Felix stares after him. "What, really?"

"Let's not kid ourselves any longer," Matt says as he opens one of the windows. "This dance to the death we've both agreed to, the ways in which you continue to surpass expectation…" He turns back, watching Felix steadily, before beckoning him closer. "You're special, Carter. I intend to make use of it."

Felix hates the way his heart jumps in his chest, threatens to clog his throat. He never should have let on how much he coveted being special. "Still with this weapon thing," he observes as he passes Matt's desk to join him.

"If you've any hope to kill me someday, you must first be sharp enough to do so," Matt muses. "And I happen to be the one who can get you there."

"So you actually want me to be able to kill you?" Felix asks, bewildered, as Matt begins to climb out the window. The fuck is he doing?

"There's no challenge to be had if you're not actually a threat," Matt scoffs, balancing on something out of view as he removes his glasses and tucks them underneath his waistcoat, likely into an inner pocket. "Now then. For us to properly talk, I'd like to get out of earshot, as it were."

Felix is hoping maybe he'll see a fire escape when he peers outside, but Matt is balancing on nothing more than a pipe that runs along the wall. They're very high up, and looking all the way down at the street below is a little dizzying.

"I'm not having a conversation like this," Felix grumbles, and Matt laughs. "Not to worry," he says with an impish little grin on his face, "you won't have to. We're going somewhere else." Before Felix can ask if that entails becoming a pancake on the sidewalk, Matt grabs his tie and starts to pull him farther out the window.

"Woah, hey!" Felix exclaims as he tries to pull himself back, but much to his horror, Matt has a very firm grip.

"See, this is the part where I'd say I need you to trust me," Matt says, cool and calm as ever, "but frankly, I don't."

He yanks, and Felix is tumbling over the windowsill before he can make any further attempts to save himself. The way his stomach pitches as gravity sends him hurtling down is enough to take his breath away before he can scream, and his heart locks up in his chest, pure terror replacing the blood in his veins as he falls.

The sensation ends as abruptly as it began, Felix letting out a pitiful little yelp as he's snatched out of the air. At some point, he'd screwed his eyes shut, and he curls desperately into the warm body holding him aloft as his insides pitch the other way—they're rising, heavy wingbeats dragging them higher into the sky.

"You fucking suck," Felix wheezes, and Matt laughs, the sound reverberating in Felix's ribs as a thread of that familiar something finds his heart again. He's being bridal carried, he realizes. For the moment he finds it hard to care. He's never been that afraid in his entire life, and he hates Matt for it just about as much as it thrills him. What a horrible way to die. It's a little intoxicating to think about.

As Matt's posture shifts and they begin to descend slightly, Felix pulls back and opens his eyes. Stretching above them both, beating back against the air as Matt carefully lands on the roof of the company building, are massive black-feathered wings with luminous golden tips.

"Wings?" Felix asks, still out of breath.

"Wings," Matt agrees, and as he finds steady footing, those wings suddenly retreat into his body, vanishing from existence. "I've been using the same ones for a few thousand years. There are other ways to get around but, well…" He shrugs, then sets Felix on his feet, snickering when Felix immediately stumbles. "Heart racing?"

"Fuck you," Felix pants. The world is spinning. "I think I need to sit down."

Matt leisurely paces in front of him as Felix rests against a structure on the roof, trying his damnedest to not have a heart attack. He's never come up here before, but he's not stupid; he knows why sneaking out the window was preferable to the elevator. Matt is avoiding his secretary.

"Now that I've refused to leave their territory, the demons have upped the ante," Matt begins to explain, turning slowly to pace the other way. "This one, then, is nothing more than a way to monitor me."

"So what?" Felix huffs, watching Matt walk. "So killing her isn't permanent. Do it once and make it impossible for her to return later."

"While I like the way you think, I'm afraid it isn't that simple." Matt stops pacing and looks down at Felix. "Valerie, or whatever her real name is—she's not one of the grunts, the kind you've killed before. She's closer to the faceless one we saw at the party. She won't go down easy."

"Is that a problem for you?" Felix asks, raising an eyebrow.

Matt rolls his shoulders, not quite a shrug. "What demons lack in strength, they make up for in numbers. I've avoided tangling with them for that reason." Felix raises his other eyebrow with the first, but Matt continues. "They don't want to give up this location, nor do I. Right now they're willing to work around me. The expectation is still that I'll choose to leave on my own, but should I attack first, they will escalate."

Though the adrenaline rush has mostly ebbed out, Felix doesn't feel any less on edge. "Are you afraid of that?"

Matt hesitates. The sky above is cloudy, not too far from rain, and the look on Matt's face matches the atmosphere. "If they attack me, I'd be better off getting away from them. Then any attempt I make to come back to the building will be met with swarms of demons ready to pounce, and chances are high they follow me elsewhere in the city as well."

Felix lets out a little disbelieving laugh. "Seriously? They can just win like that?"

Matt's eyes meet his, gaze ice cold. "I will not be beaten, Carter."

Well that's a sore spot. Felix meets Matt's gaze evenly, unintimidated. "Okay, so you're determined to win. That explains why you won't just give up, but it sure as shit doesn't explain why they're a match for you, numbers or no. What's stopping them from swarming you right away, anyway?"

Matt watches him a moment longer, then sighs, looking away. "They're very lawful. Demons love contracts and rules, that trope is accurate. Right now the worst thing I've done is be a thorn in their side—I've not provoked them. Slaughtering one of their own proves I intend to fight. And while they cannot kill me, they can overwhelm me."

Felix raises a knee to sling one arm over as Matt continues his pacing. "In a capturing way?"

"They'd want to take me below, yes," Matt confirms. "I've never taken a vessel down there. I could escape, surely, but without this body and with the demons on high alert for any sign of me…"

He trails off, and Felix picks up the slack: "You'd be better off leaving, and then you've lost."

"Mm."

Matt's pacing is angry now. There's no way he expected this conversation to piss him off, else he wouldn't have had it. They're here now. "That answers the demon shit," Felix decides. "So tell me about me being a weapon."

Matt stops pacing, and though the sky has only gotten darker, the proverbial raincloud over his head seems to vanish all at once as he looks at Felix with intrigue. "It is about time I explained that, isn't it."

Pushing himself to stand (with some post-adrenaline difficulty), Felix fixes Matt with a firm look. "Yeah. It is. Little tired of not knowing what you're doing to me."

Matt stares at him for a moment. His eyes are still green, but there's an unsettling something in them that Felix can't name. "I suppose I should tell you what I've been doing to you." Oh. It's different when he says it. "Did you not believe me, Carter? When I said that connection you felt was because you were close to me?"

Unease sinks into Felix's belly. Somewhere farther out in the city, the clouds have already opened into rain. "I was being hyperbolic," he mumbles. He did believe that story, and had no reason to think it was relevant now. As Matt steps closer to him, that thread in Felix's heart sparks to life again, something foreign. Otherworldly. He takes a step back.

"Don't fret, darling," Matt purrs, and Felix takes another step back as the advance continues. Matt's whole demeanor has suddenly shifted into something distinctly predatory. "You're so special. I've never done this with anyone before."

Felix's heel knocks into a part of the roof. "Done what?" he asks, kicking himself for the tremor in his voice. He feels like he's being stalked by a wild animal. Like being special in this instance is more about being a favored meal than any kind of equal.

"Let me show you."

The sound is awful, metal being punched through too fast, too hard. The sounds of bone and muscle being pierced are far less loud. Felix half-doubles over, eyes wide, loosely gripping the sharp appendage that's just punched through his gut clear to the other side. One of Matt's shapeshifting tricks. Felix is supposed to scream, isn't he?

"Oh, silly me," Matt chuckles. "I usually break your neck, don't I?"

He rips the appendage out, and this time Felix does scream, yanked to the ground by the motion and managing to land on his hands and knees with enough force that it reverberates through his bones. His vision is swimming, doubled up and fogged by tears, and when he hangs his head between his trembling arms he can see something sliding out of his body in the shadow he casts on the roof.

A perfectly polished dress shoe comes into view between his hands and is almost immediately splashed with blood, dribbling from Felix's lips. Matt makes a thoughtful sound above him. "You don't make a lot of sound when you're dying, do you?"

He's dying. Of course. Felix tilts his head up slightly, then shrieks when the appendage returns, shattering some part of his spine like splintering wood. There's no hesitance before it's ripped out, and Felix is toppled onto his side, choking on his own blood as pain signals fire off everywhere in his body. He's not sure he can even move—and then the sole of Matt's shoe is suddenly on his neck.

"I missed this," Matt murmurs, eyes shining gold somewhere in the haze above. "The fear. It's not the same with my food, you know. Then again, you turned down being my toy, didn't you?"

Felix can't breathe. Can barely think. Yet as everything seems to ebb away except for the golden eyes above him, he finds his lips curling into a sneering grin. Go down swinging. "Fuck you," he wheezes, and there's no time to gauge if he even got the words out right before Matt snaps his neck underfoot.

---

A single drop of rain jolts Felix back to consciousness. He stares up at the gloomy sky, trying to understand what just happened, heart racing the moment he's got his wits about him. Turning his head slightly, he sees Matt's legs nearby, following them up to watch Matt inspect the hole he left in the metal structure Felix had been standing in front of.

"The fuck was that supposed to show me?" he croaks.

Matt doesn't look at him. "I needed you dead for it, although I suppose it was my fault for saying show. I just wanted to have a little fun first." He does look down now, regarding Felix with hooded eyes. "You'll never be the same, you know."

Felix blinks. After a moment, he forces himself to sit up, but feeling around his body reveals nothing new. He's fully healed and completely unblemished. "What did you do?"

"Same thing I usually do," Matt says with a shrug. "I've imbued you with just a touch of my essence. Piece by piece, administered before bringing you back to life. It's not something I can insert while the soul is attached." He strolls a short distance away, steps followed by dots of rain slowly beginning to accumulate on the roof. "The only way you can actually stand up to the demons while remaining mortal in their eyes and thus, not worth their attention. A hidden weapon."

That's a lot of information to be fed so suddenly. When Matt glances back to meet Felix's eyes, he smirks, clearly amused. "Don't worry, you mostly won't notice. It's why you were able to recall the faceless demon, I believe. I'm just anchoring you to something they don't understand… it gives you an edge."

Felix stares, then flicks his gaze back down to Matt's shoes. Perfectly polished. No blood.

"Are you afraid of me, Carter?" Matt murmurs. "Because you should be."

"Do it again," Felix mutters back.

Matt's sinister expression falters. "What, give you more? Greedy boy. No, I—"

"No," Felix chokes out, staggering to his feet. "No. Fuck me up. Kill me."

Now the malice is entirely gone. Matt regards him with a sort of guarded intrigue, head tilted as Felix begins to approach. "Something tells me you're not begging for a mercy kill."

"Make it hurt," Felix insists, lips curling into a manic grin as the mere thought of it sends adrenaline right back into his system. Even the memory of it, agony he's never so much as been capable of feeling before, makes him feel desperate with need. "As much as you want. Tear me apart." He looms over Matt, casting his boss in shadow as the rain starts to come down harder. "Make me regret it."

Matt stares. His expression is impossible to read, and though Felix can feel something when they stand this close, it still feels nothing like how it felt on Friday night. It's formless. Something with no name that doesn't belong inside of him, a parasite whose origin has only just been revealed.

Felix reaches for Matt's throat.

The response is as immediate as he'd hoped, his wrist grabbed so tight that it hurts before he's thrown onto his back. Collision with the roof steals Felix's breath from his lungs, and he struggles for air as one clean dress shoe comes down on his chest. It's hard to see Matt through the rain.

"I would tell them that the Godking was displeased with them," Matt says, still difficult to read, as Felix's lungs finally cooperate again. "That He has possessed my form to punish them for their misgivings. Of course He could bring his disciples back from the dead—He was all-powerful, after all. He just needed them to know their place."

Felix settles a hand over the top of Matt's shoe. "Are you gonna use your hypno-bullshit on me?" he asks, turning his head a little as to not speak directly into the downpour. "Make me forget this happened, so you can do it again?"

Matt laughs a little, a low sound drifting just above the rain. "No, that wouldn't really suit our arrangement. You're my business partner and my right hand. I'd rather not set a precedent for tampering with your mind in that way." His foot is removed, and Felix whines, maybe still a little drunk on the adrenaline of it all. "Get up, Carter, I'm not having sex in the rain."

Felix manages to drag himself up into a sitting position with only a little difficulty. "Sex, huh?" His leering is quickly choked off when Matt's foot returns, stepping on his (very hard) cock through his slacks.

"Resurrection takes energy, but sex is only going to draw on the body's reserves," Matt explains, leaning over to close the distance between them (which just so happens to increase the pressure of his foot). "And you seem a bit worked up. We haven't fooled around in weeks, anyway."

That's true. Painfully so. "You didn't seem bothered by that on Friday," Felix huffs, both hands tight on Matt's ankle. "I could have stayed the night."

Matt grinds his heel into Felix's cock, then wrenches his foot free of the hold on his ankle. "You're an idiot if you think I was about to let you screw me while I was in a heightened emotional state."

There's a maintenance elevator that leads back into the building. Felix can't imagine why they'd want to publicly return, but the reason is clear soon enough when Adams catches them leaving a damp trail of footprints across the floor. Matt drops into his Matthew act immediately, all nervous laughter and shy excuses, and Felix recalls how being told that everyone had noticed his strange behavior seemed to bother him on Friday. Any chance to reinforce his actual persona is going to be capitalized upon, it seems. Looking like a drowned rat is probably helping.

Disinterested in the admonishment (and more focused on the sore erection trapped in his waistband), Felix starts to step away, but Adams' attention is immediately on him. "And you!" he snarls, pointing Felix's way. "You are putting this company in jeopardy by involving our CEO in your slacking!"

"Me?" Felix repeats incredulously. "In what fucking world am I influencing him?"

Before Adams can respond, Matt steps between them, raising both hands in a placating gesture. "Sir, please. Felix is my partner." There's a half-beat of tension, Adams' eyes going wide, and Matt's face actually flushes slightly. "Business partner!" he scrambles to clarify, his act shockingly on point. "We're—he knows more about this job than I do! We make decisions together!"

That was the wrong thing to say, clearly, but does it matter? Adams is hardly as in control as he thinks he is. "That is not what a business partner is," he growls, "nor is this delinquent yours. He is your assistant, at best, and at worst, he's a liability who should not be on this floor, let alone in this building."

"Yeah, Matt's new door-harpy told me you said my position is meaningless," Felix deadpans, and Adams glowers at him. "Is that really your decision to make?"

"Watch your tongue, boy," Adams spits. "You do not have all the cards here."

Felix narrows his eyes slightly. Matt looks back at him, seemingly concerned, but Felix puts a hand on his shoulder to gently push him out of the way, closing the distance between himself and Adams. Jones never did like his fellow executives much. It was wise of him to not tell them what happened, but also unsurprising that he wouldn't have wanted to anyway.

"I wouldn't be so sure," Felix says, looming just slightly over his target. "You seem to think you have an awful lot of power here, but I'm not your assistant. I'm not someone you can smack around, either. Save that for your wife."

Adams balks. "How—how dare you!" he snaps, taking a half-step back. "I don't—"

"You've got an awful lot of domestic abuse charges on your record," Felix continues quietly. "Wouldn't want too many people knowing about that, right?"

"Felix!" Matt hisses, grabbing onto his arm. "Enough!"

Adams looks like he has more to say, but it seems Felix's unexpected knowledge may have silenced him for the moment. He gives Matt a withering look, then marches away, leaving them behind. A few nearby employees whisper amongst themselves, casting brief glances their way.

"Let's go dry off," Matt murmurs, the cadence of his voice still very Matthew. It feels overly cautious.

It's Felix's own office they wind up in, ideal for its sheer distance from the new secretary, though not somewhere they've gone together in quite some time now. Matt's entire demeanor changes the second they're alone. He shakes his hair our like a dog, then sweeps it all back away from his face with a tired sigh. "It's not even noon yet," he mutters, disdainful.

"No one to blame but yourself, angel," Felix scoffs, loosening his tie. He feels like a drowned rat, his undershirt and dress shirt both sticking uncomfortably to his skin. At least he's not dealing with that thick hair Matt has.

Matt gives him a sidelong look, expression difficult to read. "You keep calling me that."

"Yeah, because it's funny," Felix says with a shrug, beginning to unbutton his shirt. "You know what irony is, don't you?"

That garners no response, and as Felix peels his dress shirt off, he sees Matt begin undoing the buttons of his waistcoat. It looks expensive—his whole outfit does, really—but he drops it to the floor when it's off, then makes quick work of his tie before setting to work on unbuttoning his own dress shirt.

"Don't enjoy being drenched in rainwater?" Felix teases, stepping closer. "Maybe shouldn't have flown us up onto the roof, boss."

"The sensation isn't entirely pleasant, no," Matt snorts, giving him a flat look. "Not in these clothes. But that's why they have to come off, isn't it?" Oh. He doesn't have an undershirt on. Felix really never thought he had interest in men sexually, but Matt's newly exposed shoulders and neck are certainly doing something for him. They never fully undress when they fool around, and what does come off is always below the belt.

He steps even closer. "So you mentioned something about sex?"

Matt drops his shirt to the floor, then looks up at Felix, and there's something different about him like this. Hair slicked back, slacks hanging low on his hips and torso bare, gaze as dangerous as it is heated with no glasses in the way—Matthew is nowhere to be found.

"I'm not going to disembowel you again," Matt says in a low voice. "I'm still recovering from that cosmic alignment, you know."

"So you'll do it another time?" Felix asks with a grin, reaching for Matt's shoulder and almost expecting to be slammed into the ground again. He isn't, and is instead allowed to trace meaningless lines over the clusters of freckles on Matt's skin.

"I'd anticipated that spectacle frightening you," Matt muses, lips curling into a faint, slightly-crooked smile. "You're very hard to dissuade."

"Dissuade?" Felix repeats, incredulous. "From what, asking questions?"

"From getting too complacent." Matt turns more towards him, reaching up to toy with the damp hem of Felix's undershirt. "Everything was going exactly how I wanted it to at the end of the party. You knew your place—at a comfortable distance away from me."

"Dunno, I was more comfortable with my hand in your chest."

Matt's lip raises a little, a tiny flash of teeth. Felix feels his heartrate speed up. "That's the problem, isn't it," Matt murmurs, stepping closer and sliding cool hands up under Felix's shirt in a way that makes his stomach muscles jump. "Perhaps it's my fault for not taking you seriously when you first made your intent to defy me clear."

Felix hisses as too-sharp nails rake over the soft skin of his belly, reflexively grabbing Matt's wrists but not actually trying to stop him. Matt's eyes are gold when their gazes meet. "Are you afraid me, Carter?" he asks, and it's the same question he asked before, when he was talking about… whatever the fuck it was he was saying, about his essence. About putting it inside of Felix.

"What d'you want me to say?" Felix sneers. "No? That I'd never be scared of you? I'm not stupid. You're fucking terrifying, of course I'm scared of you. I'm also your favorite—seems to afford me a bit of leniency."

"You're insufferable, is what you are." Matt loops his arms around Felix's waist, leaving Felix to put his own around Matt's shoulders as his wet shirt sets his fresh wounds on fire. "You'd best start actually trying to figure out how to kill me, or I'm going to assume you were bluffing."

Felix barks out a surprised laugh. "Is that a fucking challenge? You have more serious things to be dealing with, don't you?"

Matt presses flush against his front, earning a new hiss as Felix's cock is trapped between them, more than a little hard. "You're not going to succeed," Matt laughs. It's a mean sound. "But if you never try at all, I'm going to assume you've lost interest in your conquest. That would be quite the disappointment."

It wasn't all that long ago that Matt talked about what he did with disappointments. Would he still dispose of Felix, at this point? After the stardust-touching thing? Would he even tell the truth if asked? No, of course not. Felix leans over to close some of the gap between them, sliding his hands down Matt's bare back, advancing to push Matt against the wall and finding his efforts rewarded.

"If nothing's going to work, why should I try?" he murmurs, moving his hands lower, sliding them over the damp fabric of Matt's slacks and grabbing his ass. Matt laughs in response, breathy, their faces so close that it ghosts across Felix's lips.

"I never said nothing would work," Matt purrs, adjusting his own position to sling his arms around Felix's neck. "I just said you won't succeed. You're a dull blade right now, after all."

Felix kisses him. It's hungry and domineering, his own need overflowing both from the weeks they've spent apart as well as Matt brutalizing him, and the way Matt reciprocates, it seems he feels similarly. Felix presses closer, sliding one hand along Matt's thigh to make him raise his leg so he's easier to grind against. Sharp nails rake through his hair as he does his best to keep pace with Matt's tongue, and Felix realizes, between this and the last time they actually fooled around, just how soulless their fucking had been before.

He also has no idea what he's doing.

Matt had directed everything in that brief period of time when they fucked almost every day. Even when Felix was on top, he was doing what Matt wanted, and what he himself understood: thrusting until he came. It was like extra work with more orgasm involved. It wasn't like it didn't feel good, and even when Matt was on top that also did more for Felix than he was comfortable admitting, but it was… different. Degrading. Even their first kiss had just been an exercise in humiliation and control. It was the same way Felix treated Trevor as a teen, though, and he knew porn was unrealistic, so maybe that was all there was.

His maybe-slightly-tipsy initiation at the company party had been electric, in comparison, but thinking about that went out the window right about when that faceless demon showed up. Even in the days since the stardust thing, Felix has been more preoccupied with Matt's true nature and his overt dismissal to think on it. Maybe if he had, he'd have thought about what he'd actually do the next time he had Matt in his hands like this. He was mostly wondering how he'd make good on his promise to be a problem.

Their mouths part, slick and wet, and before Felix can go back in, Matt has pulled him closer to bite his neck. The disappointment of his teeth being blunt is at least mitigated by how good it still feels. Not that it wouldn't feel better for Matt to actually puncture his skin, or maybe tear his whole throat out, leave him bleeding out while fucking his—

The door slams open, and Felix's entire body goes rigid. He doesn't even need to check first, shouting "Sebastian!" in the direction of the intrusion before his coworker has managed to start fumbling for an apology. Which he still does, tripping over his words and very much not leaving.

"Do you always walk in uninvited?" Matt sighs, and when Felix looks down at him, he's leaned back against the wall to give Sebastian a completely flat look. That's not his Matthew act.

"I-I just—I just wanted to, um—Well Felix and I were talking earlier," Sebastian babbles, looking anywhere but at the two of them. "And—I mean, I was just—"

Felix bares his teeth. "Hurry the fuck up. If I didn't have a handful of ass right now I'd walk over there and kick yours."

Sebastian flinches away from the threat, looking briefly at them again before looking away. Matt, clearly amused, just mutters "It is nice, isn't it?", as though he's no longer worried about his act at all. Matthew is more sheepish than this, isn't he?

"Your—Your secretary," Sebastian says, rubbing one of his arms. "I, um, I saw her and Mr. Adams talking, and he seemed mad… She was trying to find you, after that."

Felix rolls his eyes. "Okay, well, that's—"

Much to his immense displeasure, Matt removes himself from Felix's grasp. "I'd better deal with that before it becomes a bigger issue," he sighs. "Thanks, Sebastian."

"You're… welcome," Sebastian says, somewhat reluctantly. Felix glares at him. "Why are you two all wet?"

"I like the rain," Matt says as he gathers his clothes from the floor. His ass is nice, and seeing him bend over feels like a taunt. "And Felix has to listen to me if he wants to get sex, so."

Clenching his fists at his sides, Felix resists the urge to make a scene, but just barely. "Alright, boss. So what the fuck is this?"

Matt looks over at him with hooded eyes when he straightens up again. "I'll come over after work. Then you don't have to worry about keeping me quiet."

Why is he acting like this with Sebastian around? Felix tries to make his confusion apparent, but Matt offers no answers, tucking his wet clothes under one arm and heading for the door. As he passes, Sebastian watches him, then points at his back, mouthing a clearly bewildered Femboy? that Felix doesn't think is worth a response. One threatening step in his direction has Sebastian scrambling to escape, and Felix slams the door behind him.

After a moment to breathe, he runs his hands back through his wet hair and sighs. Lifting his shirt reveals that the damage Matt left are long red welts, specks of blood just barely bubbling through broken skin where it hasn't already been smeared around by his movement. Matt so rarely leaves wounds on him without "fixing" them—had the night of the party not gone how it did, Felix might have taken more advantage of the ones he got then. For now, he runs one palm over the marks, cock twitching at the sting of it. He might get some use out of that.

…Before Matt comes over. Felix has the rest of the workday to plan for that, at least. And if they're going back to his place—a deliberate choice on Matt's part, surely—there are a lot of plans that can be made.

Something will work, after all.