They sat at a small table on the floor of the Alhambra. They stared at one another when one wasn't talking, openly trying to work the other out. Jacob wanted a gauge on Roth. Roth wanted to certify that Jacob was all the papers said he was.
"It's a dangerous life, this life of ours." Roth interrupted the piano playing in the pit behind them. He spoke over the volume.
"Criminals?"
"Yes, if you'd like to call us that." His accent was thicker than Jacob's.
"I'm not a criminal though, Mr Roth."
"Oh, Maxwell, please, Jacob, my dear. And I don't know, Jacob, I don't know about that. Some of my men would say otherwise." He goaded him.
"I'd say I'm more of a lovable rogue: charming but with a moral compass."
"Right you are, but a rogue nonetheless; with a compass pointed south." His accent clung to 'south' like it was a musical note. He was toying with his food. Jacob was affronted by Roth's candour. His playfulness was aggravating.
"I'm here on business, Mr Roth. In case that slipped your mind." Roth paused before he spoke again.
"Of course." Roth leaned in. "Where was I? You see, Mr Frye: I need a man like you to work for a man like me. I need a mind as sharp as mine to partner your considerable skill. We're killers, am I right?"
"I want a deal." Jacob interrupted Roth's musing causing him to sit and watch him as he became comfortable again. "I need to get to Starrick and you, clearly, want him gone, or else you wouldn't have let me in without a rope around my neck or something." The older man smiled slowly, playing out the scene of Jacob's description in his head.
"I think we have a deal. We seem to complete each other: create a perfect circle. I accept."
"You intrigue me." Jacob remarked, gaining Roth's attention. They sat, facing one another, quite placidly. Their bodies didn't convey their attraction to the other: like magnets they felt a pull toward the other which they instinctively rejected.
"I could say the same about you. Although I say fascinating, personally. Fascinating is a better word."
"Not quite dark or handsome enough."
"You toy with me, Jacob. Would you break this blackened heart?"
"By doing what exactly?" His sarcasm wasn't entirely intended.
"By playing games."
"I'm talking business here, Roth." Jacob corrected himself and the situation.
"I'm talking business and more, my dear! Business and pleasure is a heady cocktail, Jacob, dear; perfect nightcap. Speaking of which: another drink?"
"It's five-thirty in the afternoon."
"London is a world away from rules, Mr Frye; you should know that better than I." Roth grinned. "It's almost evening. It's already dark. And in this dark, would you care to dance?" He invited, extending his hand.
"No, thank you. I don't dance."
"That's a shame. And maybe a lie, we'll see." He paused, looking the assassin in the eye. "I just want my chance to have a little fun with the bravest man in London." Roth stood up, still holding his hand out inviting Jacob to take it. He waited for Jacob to twig before quietly urging him. "Stand up, my dear." Jacob took his hand and got up from his chair.
"So, we have a deal?" Jacob searched for a reaction in Roth's pale face.
"On a night like this? You could have anything. My darling, you're an elusive shadow only caught by the papers, the police and the poor, good, lowlifes of London and I'm none of those. Not quite." He stopped, letting go of Jacob's hand. "You know, it's nights like this I forget about you. I watch the fires as they rage over London, tearing up the skyline with smoke and terror." He goaded Jacob into reacting to his romanticism. Jacob's curious expression became dark as he spoke.
"It's nights like this I think about you. I look up to the smoke and the fires, raging, and I wonder if you started this one." Jacob turned on his heel and walked to the doors.
"We're going to get along like a house on fire, my dear! You've got yourself a deal." He called after him, turning his back to the stage. "Come back soon."
He jumped from the nearest rooftop. The wind changed and pulled at his coat tails as he fell. He was used to it by now but anything more than a light breeze still took Jacob by surprise. He ran across the rooftops of the city to get to a park or a pub or anywhere not as constricting as the Alhambra. Jacob was making tracks, he'd made a deal with one of the worst men in London, but a man that he couldn't help but be attracted to.
There was a strange, undeniable attraction to be had with Roth as a man who could have anything and yet he chose to work to get Jacob. The assassin liked a challenge, and having Roth on his side couldn't help but improve his chances as getting at Starrick.
He was hypnotised by Roth's charm, remembering Roth's subtle touch as he washed his hands of the blood of the Blighters that threatened him outside of Covent Garden. Yet, Jacob had an inkling that he could grab Maxwell Roth by the collar and have him in the palm of his hand just as easily as he did his men.
"I figured I'd come and play." Jacob stood in front of Roth, his hands flat on Roth's table.
"Play or play me?" Roth questioned, suspicious of Jacob's temperament.
"A bit of both, I can't lie to you." Jacob flashed a grin at Roth who laughed as he lit a cigarette. He inhaled a mouthful of smoke before removing the cigarette from his lips to toy with it.
"You think you can play me like a violin, eh, darling?" The older man took the assassin's hand and brought it up to his face, holding the lit cigarette above it with his other hand. Jacob didn't flinch, but neither did Roth. "We're in this for more than fun and games, remember that." He planted a kiss on Jacob's knuckles quickly before letting the hand drop and taking another drag from his cigarette.
"Board games, Max. I fancied a board game. Snakes and Ladders, maybe?"
"Oh, I'm bored of games, Jacob." He leaned back in his chair, opening his arms out to express his tetchiness. He tapped the ash from the cigarette onto the floorboards. "I need something a little more exciting, Jacob-" He spat his name the second time. "-how about a bet?" Roth took the cigarette to his lips for one last breath before holding it out to Jacob between his index and middle finger. "What do you say? Out this on your tongue."
"Why?"
"Because we're done playing games, dear." Roth smiled slowly, leaning forwards to stand, facing Jacob as he stood. "Come now, gamble."
"What are the stakes?"
"Quickly. You do this and I'll get my boys and girls to ease of your Rooks, give you room to move. Then I do something for you." Jacob made eye contact with Maxwell again, searching for answers. He took the cigarette end, still burning, from Roth's fingers and suddenly placed it upside down on his tongue. He opened his mouth and outed the cigarette without breaking eye contact from the older mad man, curious to see if this excited him. The burn on his tongue wasn't severe but it stung.
"Now you do something for me, isn't that it?" Jacob asked as he tried to soothe the scold on his tongue surreptitiously.
"Yes. I am in your hands. Gamble." He taunted the cocky assassin.
"Light that whisky and drink it."
"And?"
"and you can tie me up and have your way with me." Roth's grin was wide and lascivious but his eyes betrayed him. There was a passion in them that came with a love for starting fires: something destructive. "Have a little fun with the bravest man in London." Jacob was drawn in by Roth's fierceness. He liked the challenge.
"and if I don't? What then?"
"If you don't, I get your pet crow."
"Oh, Jacob! You do know how to raise the stakes." His grin narrowed and grew more malevolent. "I love that pretty thing. But then I have a weakness for pretty things." He reached out reactively to touch Jacob's jaw, Jacob saw him move and flinched at his touch but didn't hit him away. "You have a strong jaw." He mused, almost to himself, as he let Jacob go. "You came of your own accord to play games, I respect that. I'll make an actor of you yet. There's theatrics in what you do. We're not so different, you and I." He adjusted his shirt collar. "We're separated only by what we love and what we hate. What we do it all for."
"Come, now, Max: gamble."
"Before I do, let me ask you a question, you're a smart man." He reached for the book of matches from his inner jacket pocket. "If you love it you will kill it, if you hate it you will let it die. Or perhaps, it is that if you hate it you will kill it, if you love it you will let it die. Which is the truer of the two?" The older man poured himself and his business partner a drink. He pushed it over to Jacob and set it down in front of him on the table before he sat back down in the chair opposite the assassin. They were separated by a grand, ornate wooden desk, decorated with various paper and tools, and now two glasses of whisky. Jacob stayed standing, looking down upon Roth as he struck a match and gazed at it before it extinguished between his fingers. Jacob jumped across the desk with ease, leaning against the wood as he stood over Roth. "Regardless, I remember that there is no truth when it comes to love, only the things that we do together and then all the things we do and don't let one another see." Roth smiled slowly, flashing his teeth as he sat still, waiting. He took the match to his glass of whisky and set it alight easily. His prey made him want to jump, he was chasing shadows in chasing Jacob Frye. He made him feel uneasy, like he was standing on the ledge of the roof of a tall building and leaning over the edge. Jacob pressed his boot into Maxwell's chest to keep him there. He tipped him and threw off his weight when he levered his weight against the chair gently, tipping Roth along with it back into the corner of the room. Roth made Jacob feel how Jacob made Roth feel: a perfect circle.
"You push me, darling. Why?" Roth's fascination with Jacob piqued. He held the burning liquor in his hand as he spoke.
"Because I can." Jacob's reply was flat and certain. It was almost sincere.
They terrified each other as they lingered in the space between kissing and complacency. They could strangle each other as quickly as tease open their lips with a finger. Roth suddenly drew the glass to his lips and swallowed the burning whisky, pushing Jacob back from him slightly with his free hand as he did so.
"That's the way to do good business, Jacob, my dear! Push your opponent into your hands." Roth grew excited as pushed the assassin backwards, climbing up from the angled chair. "I've just got one bit of advice for you-" Maxwell leant his mouth to Jacob's right ear, becoming anxious of their dangerous stillness. "-There's no time for good business if the deeds are dirty, darling. Above board is for art." He caught Jacob's earlobe between his teeth briefly. "Business is dirty. Just don't get caught."
Jacob guarded his waist instinctively when Roth went to touch it. He let the assassin then lead forwards and leave his office, calling after Jacob as he made to leave. "It's been a pleasure!" Jacob paused, catching himself but not turning around.
"It has, Mr Roth."
Jacob opened his eyes slowly. His head felt heavy, like it had been underwater. The sedative was wearing off.
"I wanted to try something. I want to test you, my dear; indulge my theatrical side."
"Roth..."
"'You can tie me up and have your way with me.' Wasn't that our wager? Here I am, making good on our bet." The assassin's legs and torso were restrained with rope and tied to the body of the chair itself. His wrists were tied apart from the chair but tied as securely as the rest. The ties crossed over, holding his body to the wooden frame but still allowing a little movement to get comfortable.
"Roth, you bastard." His words were direct but slow as he regained his sense of being.
The assassin wriggled against the restraints securing him to the chair, trying to loosen them.
"What are you playing at, Roth?" Jacob growled, trying but to shout. "We had a deal!"
"One minute, please; we still do." The actor levied, splaying his fingers in a gesture of peace. "I just wanted to show you who you're getting into bed with, as it were." He turned away to yell. "Lewis! The lights!" As the house lights dimmed, a spot light point at the chair was turned on, darkening the rest of the room by contrast. Roth moved into Jacob's eye line, looking at him with hunger. "Please, cut your ties free, but sit still, my dear. Just for a moment." He adjusted his cuffs. "I'll lay out my ground rules. Nothing done under duress. Force maybe, but only light, I promise. I'm a bad man, darling, but so are you. That don't make it right, I know. But I play games to win. I play fair but I play rough: no harm, no foul, no quarter."
Jacob cut loose his arms in turn as the older man removed his jacket. Roth undid Jacob's jacket and pulled at his shirt, untucking it.
"Maidens, fair, and princes, charming: which would you like to play?" He tried to play along.
"You know how to play, then, Jacob."
"I've played before." Jacob smiled slightly.
"I don't doubt it, a handsome young devil like yourself. Set hearts on fire I'm sure."
"I know enough to know the way to a man's heart. The fourth and fifth rib." He was losing patience with Roth's theatrics. This wasn't what he'd expected Roth would do.
"I'll remember that." Roth quipped. "You're my audience of one: London's Most Wanted. Tonight, I'll play the prince, saving his darling damsel."
"I don't have time for your theatrics, Roth."
"Humour me, my dear. I just to play a little scene before we get down to business. I'm an actor, Jacob. Theatrics make life worth living."He stood back from the assassin in his chair, glancing at the rope on the floor behind the chair. He noticed Jacob had cut his hands free. "Will you play, just for a minute? Time us by the clock, if you like. I like a challenge."
"Hurry up. I'll time you."
"I won't keep you. Besides-" Jacob was a moth to Roth's flame, holding him back for fear of temptation. "-suck it, and see. Acquire a taste." Before he had finished speaking, Roth got down on his knees and had pulled Jacob's shirt up, running his fingers along the inside of Jacob's thigh briefly before growling. "You're not getting my crow." His voice hung low and heavy like smoke along Jacob's skin. Roth looked up from between Jacob's knees. He stuck out his tongue and dragged it across the twin's exposed stomach. Jacob let out a groan, tensing involuntarily at the warm, wet pressure of Roth's tongue. He placed chaste, bitten kisses along the assassin's abdomen as he undid his shirt, ripping at the buttons he couldn't undo.
Roth's hand climbed to rest around Jacob's throat, sizing it up quickly with a slight squeeze before running his fingers up the back of the other man's neck.
The sly smile on Roth's lips grew as he rested his index and forefinger on Jacob's chin.
"May I?" Roth asked, making eye contact.
"Yes." Jacob agreed, seeing the fire in the man's black eyes. His breathing increased and became uneven.
"Open wide, darling." He whispered as he slipped his index finger past Jacob's peachy lips.
Jacob sucked his finger lightly at first and then harder when Maxwell moaned against his skin. The older man slipped a second finger past Jacob's lips as he continued to kiss Jacob's neck, sucking the skin there until it bruised. Jacob moaned as he ran his tongue down Roth's fingers, reacting to the love-bites lingering over the vein in his neck. As Roth moved down to his collarbones Jacob snapped and pulled Roth's fingers from his mouth whilst sucking against them, breathing heavily as felt the other man's hand loosely drag his saliva over his chest.
He reached down and grabbed Roth's collar, pulling him up sharply. Roth instinctively straddled Jacob, winding his arms under the rope that still bound the assassin's torso to the sturdy chair. He pressed a loose kiss to the actor's jaw, before quickly his mouth down and bruising Roth's throat lightly with his lips. He nipped at the darker bruises with his teeth and sucked gently at the lighter ones to even them out, all the while he worked his way down the buttons on Roth's shirt. Roth moaned through his teeth, digging his fierce hands into Jacob's coat. Jacob's teeth grazed the throbbing vein in his neck as he made to move his mouth to Roth's. The assassin simultaneously sunk his hand into Roth's silver hair, letting his hair be pulled at the roots as Roth tugged Jacob's mouth away from his, just as he was about to kiss him.
His smile was cruel but soft, the kind that accompanied teeth sinking into your skin. He climbed off Jacob's body until he held the panting assassin at arm's length listening to but not concentrating on the sounds of their heavy breathing slowing.
From this distance he traced his fingers across Jacob's throat, making a throat slitting gesture. Jacob's expression was calm but wanting, his panting had eased to become staggered, quieter breathing. He breathed through his mouth as he smiled widely.
"You'll be the end of me."