Lincoln's POV:
Atticus always fucks me best when he's angry, but tonight he isn't even upset but he's giving me more than usual.
My eyes roll to the back of my head as he thrusts into me like an animal, grunting loudly.
"Atticus!" I gasp, his cock thumping against my prostate. "Q-Quiet, or Silas w-will hear!"
"And?" he asks, leaning down and kissing my lips. "I bet he masturbates to the sounds you make."
I want to glare, but all I can do is shut my eyes and tilt my head back when he thrusts even harder into me. "Ah! Atticus! Right there!" I cry out, unable to keep myself from being loud.
It's an unfortunate issue the two of us have; I'm definitely loud in bed and Atticus isn't quiet. Even though I don't often try to keep it down, we now have a guest in our house and it's kind of rude to be loud when he could be trying to sleep.
"Fuck, you're so tight," Atticus growls, pulling almost all the way out before pushing all the way inside of me. "Spread your legs wider."
"I'm not a fucking gymnast," I snap back, scratching down Atticus' back as he changes his angle and slams himself so hard inside of me that I can feel him balls pressed against my ass. "Agh!"
Atticus groans, sweat dripping down his chest and face. "So close, babe," he moans, and I nod because I feel the same. "I'm gonna come on your face."
"In the condom isn't enough?" I joke, but my short laugh is cut off when he grabs my cock and starts stroking as fast as he can. "Atticus!"
"Are you close?" he asks, giving me an evil smirk and letting go of my cock as soon as I nod.
He pulls out and strips of the condom, scooting up and standing on his knees as he strokes himself with one hand, using the other to guide my hand to my own member.
"You're so cute," he pants, and his entire body contracts as he moans loudly and comes all over my face, and I shut my eyes so I won't get anything in my eyes.
I'm so close to finishing, and as soon as I reach the edge, I feel Atticus engulf my cock into his hot mouth, and I can barely process as I come, pleasure filling my body as I arch my back.
I moan as I ride out my high, my boyfriend sucking my cock and fingering me as I do so. I keep my eyes closed and I feel fingers stroke over my face, shoving Atticus' come into my mouth.
"Fuck, I'm tired," Atticus says as soon as I open my eyes. "How do you feel?"
I smile. "Tired as hell," I respond, curling into Atticus' side. "I get tomorrow off, so I'm showering tomorrow instead of tonight."
"But babes... I need to shower tonight," Atticus pouts, since he hates showering alone.
Especially because this idiot has insane stamina and is definitely hoping for a second round by means of shower sex.
"Sorry," I say, rolling over onto my stomach and pressing my face into Atticus' pillow.
"No you're not."
"You're right. I'm not," I say, turning my head and smiling at Atticus, who just stares at me in disbelief. "Ah, relax. The bed has been lonely with me going into work on my day off. I'm making up for lost time."
Atticus sighs and walks toward the bathroom. "Choosing the bed over me... is this a form of cheating?"
"He loves me more than you ever could."
"Last I checked, he doesn't make you soup when you're sick and cuddle you when you're touch starved," Atticus mutters, vanishing into the bathroom.
I hear the shower turn on, but that's not the only sound I hear. There's pattering footsteps and I think it's Silas moving around, but it's getting late and I had thought he was in bed.
Biting my bottom lip, I slide out of bed and walk out into the kitchen. There, I find Silas with a ball of paper towels in his hand wiping his hands and shirt and I can almost smell the stress radiating off of him.
"What are you doing?" I ask him, even though I think I know what he's trying to wipe off of himself.
Maybe Atticus was right about him eavesdropping when we were having sex?
"Uh... my bathroom didn't have toilet paper," he says, his face bright red in the dim light of the kitchen. "And I spilled... pee."
"You didn't even attempt to create a good lie," I comment, grabbing a washcloth and dampening it with warm water. "Here."
Silas is bright red. "Thanks," he murmurs. "Um... you said I didn't create a good lie? What did you mean by that?"
I raise an eyebrow and look pointedly at the hem of his shirt. "Well, pee isn't white," I tell him. "Don't be embarrassed, all adults have sexual needs. Masturbation is a good way to relieve stress, which I'm sure you're experiencing a lot of with everything that has gone on in your life in the last seventy-two hours. And next time, it might serve you better to just change your shirt."
"Yeah..." Silas trails off, looking me up and down. "Uh, goodnight."
He runs off and I watch him go.
I turn on the kettle and make myself a cup of tea, returning to my room once I'm done. I pass Silas' borrowed room, opening the door slightly and finding him curled up on the bed.
He's cute.
Shut up subconscious Lincoln!
You have a boyfriend and he's your patient.
He is here for his safety and I'm studying him. I'm not supposed to be perving on him! Plus, Silas is, like, four years younger than me and five years younger than Atticus.
He's basically a child!
Not only that, but he doesn't trust anyone, not that I blame him. If I had the malfunction, I'd close everyone out as well, because you never know who to trust in this world, especially when it comes to being one of them.
I close the door and go back to our bedroom, where Atticus is laying in bed, his hair still wet.
"You're going to soak the pillows!" I whine, because I hate when he soaks the pillows with his wet hair.
Atticus shrugs. "Oh well," he says, plugging in his phone and laying down, holding his arms open. "Come here, babes."
I set my cup of tea down and crawl into his arms. "I think I'm going to ask Silas if he wants a job at the office as a receptionist," I tell him, rubbing my fingers over his pectorals. "He said he has never had a job, right?"
"Yes, I think that would be good for him," Atticus agrees, kissing my forehead. "What're you going to do tomorrow?"
"Probably some shopping... I'm changing our sheets because they haven't been changed for a couple of weeks... I'll probably make Silas tag along because I think he would be good company and I'd like to get to know him better."
Atticus hums. "Don't sleep with him until I get home."
I honestly cannot tell if he is joking, so I force a laugh until we make eye contact and... oh my god, this idiot is serious?!
"You're serious?!" I ask, raising an eyebrow.
"We've both always wanted to try one," Atticus says, and he's right, but it's still embarrassed to think about. "And Silas has a little crush on you, so it'd make his day."
I roll my eyes, sitting up and turning turn off my light. "I'm not going to sleep with Silas, you absolute weirdo," I say, kissing Atticus' lips. "Goodnight, love."
"Night, babes."
•••
I wake up around nine the next morning, and Atticus is already gone. My heart warms when I see that he has wrapped me up in our blankets so I wouldn't be cold in his absence.
It's always chilly in the house when it's early, so I wrap my blanket around myself when I slide out of bed and walk to the kitchen. I find Silas there, sitting at the bar and drinking a cup of coffee.
He seems to stop functioning when he looks at me, his mouth dropped open a bit and eyes fixed on my form.
"Good morning," I say, walking over and pouring myself a cup of citrus tea. "How did you sleep?"
"Pretty good," Silas responds, sipping his coffee. "I'm sorry, I saw the coffee machine on and I assumed-"
I cut him off. "Nah, don't apologize," I reassure, a shy smile pulling at my lips. "I'm glad you're getting more comfortable here. You seem like a good person."
"I appreciate that," Silas says, and equally shy look on his face. "Does Atticus have work?"
"Yeah, I get today off, Atticus has Wednesday off, and we both get Saturday off."
Silas hums, opening his laptop, which Atticus brought for him from his apartment. "I have every day off because I am unemployed," he says in a false-enthusiastic voice, a smirk on his face. "It's quite the party."
"Actually, I spoke with Atticus about that last night," I tell Silas, making him give me a confused look. "There's this brat that works at my office, and he always calls out and never does his job well. If you want a job, we're willing to hire you and fire him. All you'd have to do is answer emails, schedule apartments, and be willing to work hard."
"Seriously? You'd hire someone like me?" Silas asks, and he seems almost nervous to get his hopes up.
I nod. "I work at a place that specializes in people with the Mistacesemia malfunction, even though we take normal patients as well. It makes sense that we have an employee who has Mistacesemia so our clients who have it feel more comfortable."
Silas nods. "Yeah! I will! Do you need a resume? A cover letter? Whatever you need, I'll do it!"
"Yeah, just let me look at your resume and my boss will want to interview you, but I'll be there the whole time."
Silas is nearly bouncing in his seat with excitement.
Cute.
No, not cute.
He's just excited, not a big deal.
I turn on the television that sits in the corner of the kitchen, and the news appears in front of us. I look at Silas and then back at the television, my eyes widen in shock.
"Police are on the lookout for Silas Murray, an individual with the Mistacesemia malfunction, after his apartment was blown up last night, killing twelve people and injuring several others. Police believe he may be responsible for the murder that took place a few days ago and was attempting to destroy evidence and escape. If you spot this man, please call the Oregon Supernatural Investigation Unit at M171, but do not engage."
The reporter continues on about other numbers to call while I turn and make eye contact with Silas, who's jaw is dropped in shock and horror.
"I swear, I didn't do anything!" he exclaims, tears in his eyes as he gets up and backs away from me.
"I believe you, don't worry," I assure him, since I know for a fact that Silas has not left this house.
He's still in his pajamas, and the reporter is saying that this was super recent, as in the last three or four hours. We live far enough from downtown where Silas' apartment is that there's no way he could have made it there and back in the amount of time he had without waking myself up or running into Atticus as he left for work.
My phone rings and I answer it. "Atticus, did you see the news?!"
"Yes, and I need you to confirm that Silas is with you," he says, his voice lowered so no one can overhear him.
"Yes, he is. Atticus, he didn't-"
"I know," Atticus says, and I relax a bit. "Jared and I both know it was not him. I need you to keep him hidden, and if the cops choose to come search our place, have him hide in the basement. You know where the entrance is, under the floorboard in the entry way closet?"
"I know," I tell him, looking back at Silas who is watching the television with terror in his eyes. "Just find out who did this."
"That's my job, babes," Atticus says, making kissy noises through the phone. "I'll see you tonight. Stay in today."
"Love you," I say before I hang up. "Atticus will find who did this."
Silas stares at me. "I should go. You two don't deserve to be dragged into this."
"You don't deserve to take the blame for something you didn't do," I argue, crossing my arms. "Just stay, you're safe here."
"Okay," Silas says, looking at me before forcing a smile. "At least I get a chance to be a TV star."
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