Mal watched from below as Nico lowered himself into the tunnel entrance, the light from the sun disappearing like an eclipse as Levi pushed the heavy manhole cover back into place. He flinched, fretful, as Nico took the metal ladder a little too quickly for his liking. He kept raising and lowering his hands, ready to catch the younger boy if he fell, while also trying not to stare too hard at his ass. But it was a really nice ass.
About eight feet from the bottom, Nico let go, Mal’s heart dropping with him as he landed on the concrete floor of the tunnel before turning and grinning at him like he’d performed some miraculous feat and not like he’d just scared the shit out of Mal. He blinked at Nico, hoping his face wasn’t acting out the complicated things Nico’s smile did to his insides.
It must have been okay. Nico took his hand like it was the most normal thing to do to a random stranger, dragging him deeper into the dimly lit tunnel. Mal’s head was on a swivel as they moved, absorbing every detail. It wasn’t an abandoned train or subway tunnel or—thankfully—a sewer tunnel.
Judging by the grimy subway tiles and the numerous steam pipes they passed, it was a maintenance tunnel, probably still in use by utility workers around the city. Which was a relief. While he wasn’t crazy about the heat or the rainforest-like air quality, they weren’t likely to end up with black lung.
Nico didn’t walk beside him but a bit ahead, pulling Mal along like he knew he wouldn’t protest. Of course, he wouldn’t. Nico’s skin was warm, his hands a little rough and bigger than Mal’s own. He stared at the back of Nico’s head, watching the pretty ringlets bounce, playing peek-a-boo with a night sky tattoo’d at the nape of his neck.
After a moment or two, the other boy looked back at him with another easy grin, his bright blue eyes alight, like this was the most fun he’d ever had. Mal’s heart did something complicated in his chest. Nico had the face of an angel. It wasn’t hyperbole. He looked like a painting Mal had seen on a trip to the museum with his seventh grade class. A picture of Lucifer as an angel. Nico was the embodiment of that painting, Lucifer in the flesh. Maybe Mal should take that as a warning. But he too often found himself running towards danger instead of away from it.
Mal had never seen anyone as radiant as Nico. Lucifer meant light-bearer and Nico was all light. His hair and eyes were bright, his skin glowing, his soul radiant. Mal itched to drag him close, to bury his face in his neck, inhale him like a drug. He wanted to taste his smile. He wanted to live in his light. But he didn’t say any of that because even Mal knew his thoughts were too crazy.
They had only made it a short distance when Nico grinned and asked, “If you had to describe yourself as any toy, what would it be and why?”
Mal rapidly blinked at him, processing the question, spitting out his answer immediately. “Mr. Potato Head.”
Nico gave a surprised laugh and it fell around Mal like rose petals, like bells, like rain. He closed his eyes, trying to committhe sound to memory. When he opened them again, Nico stared at him expectantly. When Mal frowned, the younger boy said, “You have to say why.”
“Oh,” Mal said. “Because my foundation never changes. Who I am at my core is inflexible. My intellect, my beliefs, my view of the world as a whole. But everything else changes based on who I am when I wake up in the morning. All my other parts are interchangeable.”
Nico’s brows knitted together. “What kind of other parts?”
Mal shrugged. “My hair, my clothes, my gender, my accent, my sexuality… Whenever I wake up, I’m never really sure who I’ll find in the mirror looking back. Most people find that…off-putting.”
Nico studied him, looking him up and down in a way that made Mal want to press him up against those tiles and see if his moans were as pretty as his laugh. He pushed the thought away, trying to concentrate on his words. “Looking like you do? There’s no way people aren’t lining up for you, off-putting or not.”
Mal smirked, then shrugged. He wasn’t blind. He was fully aware he was what society found conventionally attractive. He was given the benefit of the doubt more often than not simply because he was born with a pretty face. “Looks only get you so far. Then people want to know who’s sleeping beside them each night. I can’t give anyone that comfort.”
They fell into a tense silence for about thirty seconds before Nico shook the hand he held. “You’re so enigmatic,” he teased, turning to walk backwards, facing Mal. “How was prison?” he asked, like that was a totally normal thing to say.
“Could have been worse, I suppose,” Mal said with a shrug. “I’m not a big fan of communal showers,” he added with a lazy drawl. “Or shared toilets.”
Nico scrunched up his nose. Mal’s brain instantly ground to a halt. He wanted to kiss him right there where it crinkled themost. His heart beat faster just thinking about it. He let his gaze sweep the other boy’s body. He wore a black tank top that showed off broad shoulders and muscular arms and wide-legged jeans that would have looked stupid on most people but worked on him.
By the time his gaze crawled back up to Nico’s face, the boy had a knowing smirk on that pretty heart-shaped mouth. Mal had been caught. The younger boy cocked a brow. “Are you checking me out?”
“Just looking,” Mal said, hoping he sounded nonchalant and not like he was mentally picking flowers for their future wedding.
“Did you get beat up in prison?” Nico asked, spinning back around to walk beside him once more.
Mal gave a humorless laugh. “People tend to not fuck with me.”
“Why? Are you dangerous?” he teased.
Mal dropped his mask for a moment, letting Nico see just how truly devoid of humanity he was when he stopped trying. “Prison is like the jungle. Inmates instinctively steer clear of the weird, crazy, or unpredictable.”
“Which are you?” he asked, his tone still amused.
Mal blinked at him. “I’m all three.”
He waited for Nico to freak out or grow nervous, but he just laughed again, showering Mal in hearts and flowers. When Mal continued to stare, Nico said, “I know it’s not funny, but my friends are married to a disproportionately large number of papered psychopaths, so weird and unpredictable is kind of my normal. ”
Mal believed what he said about his friends. He also believed that being weird and unpredictable was Nico’s normal. But that wasn’t all of it. “You like it,” Mal said. “You like the danger.”
A statement, not a question.
Nico cocked his head, a smile playing at his lips. “Is that so?”
