The next time they met, Harry was out of high school and studying British history and writing. Muggle history, when compared to magical history, was rather fascinating. He was thinking of writing a book on his magical experiences and publishing it in both magical and mundane worlds. In his spare time, to make money, Harry combined magic and mundane to enhance muggle conveniences American Magicals had to give up. Magic just didn't work around electronics.
Harry's art however hadn't weaned though the was more careful how he chose his projects.
Dexter and he continued to meet up randomly though very very infrequently by hunting the same target. When they met on the street and Dexter asked him for coffee with a devilish grin, Harry couldn't hold in his chuckles. Because they saw each other more often, Dexter was able to inform Harry of any trends that the police were able to track. Harry learned not to shit where he ate.
The internet proved to be a fantastic way to find projects and an untraceable source.
It was during such a project that he met up with Dexter.
"Hey! Don't tell me you're after my guy?"
Dexter shook his head, "no, unless you've broadened your horizons."
Since Harry's need was not desperate he volunteered to help Dexter out rather then meet up with the online pedophile like he'd planned.
He obeyed Dexter's instructions immediately and with out protest. This wasn't his hunt and it would be disrespectful to do otherwise.
Resolved to be merely a spectator, Harry still struggled not to impirio Dexter's target when Dexter threatened the man with strangulation by wire. Dexter's method worked though and the target drove them out into the swamps to an old abandoned hotel. Harry enjoyed seeing this side of Dexter. The blood tech he met was completely gone and in his place was a cold killer who didn't need to second guess his actions. Every motion, every bunched muscle, every word was carefully controlled and served to draw Harry closer.
"What do you what?" the target cried as Dexter pulled him from the car.
"I want silence." He stabbed the target with a needle and the body went limp. Dexter scowled down at the target and then at the open door of the hotel some meters away. He turned to Harry.
"I didn't mean to do that until he was in the building, now I have to carry him. You're distracting me."
Harry blushed, ashamed that his unexpected presence was affecting the master work. "Let me fix it then." He levitated the target and cleared his throat when Dexter only watched, memorized.
"Right, handy."
Dexter wrapped the target in plastic wrap, covered himself with protection, and then showed Harry the evidence of the target's guilt while they waited for indication of consciousness.
Harry listened with rapt attention as Dexter described what the man had done and how Dexter had found out about it. It never occurred to Harry to use court trials and hearings. What a perfect way to find those that needed punishment.
When the target groaned, Dexter left Harry confront his target. He outlined the targets past sins with anger mixed with a dose of understanding. With each unpunished crime the target exhibited more shame and fear. Harry could understand why Dexter did this rather then simply killing the target. It was therapeutic.
"Please." the target begged, "I couldn't help myself. I'm sorry."
Harry felt this was a perfect example of why he prevented his projects from talking. He couldn't stand begging, but he didn't say anything. This was part of Dexter's process.
"That, I can understand." Dexter said, voice husky with anticipation.
Watching Dexter cut his target into pieces, limbs twisting in pain for a moment before jerking in death throes, was too exciting not to be apart of and it pulled Harry from his chair and over to stand behind Dexter. Dexter's art was much more brutal then Harry's but the former boy-hero still found it exhilarating.
When it was over, Dexter invited Harry to his place to clean up.
"Just water and soap here, no magic tricks, sorry." Dexter quipped.
Harry was fascinated with Dexter's box of trophy blood drops.
"Hey tell me about your first."
Dexter laughed. "It was only half thought out. I figured out how to restrain her and that I wanted her asleep, but sticking her with the needle was harder then I thought it would be. She fought like you'd never believe." Harry grinned.
"and the blood? Did it get everywhere?"
Dexter moaned low in his throat. "Yes, it was all over the room, all over me."
Harry moved closer and leaned forward, nearly breathing the same air as Dexter.
"and that first cut? What was it like?"
Dexter, lost in his memories, missed Harry grab his hand and place it on his thigh. "I just used a knife but the first cut resisted more then I thought it would."
Harry grinned and kissed his neck creating jolts of pleasure that went straight to his groin. "did you wear gloves or could you feel the blood on your skin."
Dexter sighed and tilted his head for Harry's wandering mouth. He groaned at the thought of dipping his hands in blood and said, "No, I used gloves."
"Shame." Harry said.
"And you?" Dexter said after a moment. Harry had moved into his lap and he was kneading Harry's ass while they thrust slowly against each other.
"My first was an accident. I hadn't even considered my art. I nicked his artery and the blood…" He moaned, hot breath against Dexter's neck. "It was everywhere."
Dexter and Harry got lost in their memories, the blood of their kills, the lust and release they got from their methods.
Harry dropped from Dexter's lap and opened up his pants. He took Dexter deep into his mouth, moaning as Dexter's hands fisted in his dark hair. Dexter thrust his hips and Harry opened his throat and let him. When he came it was on Harry's name.
Harry swallowed him down and then stood opening his own fly. "My turn." Dexter jolted slightly and Harry raised an eyebrow. He could tell that Dexter had no desire to return the favor. It was a blessing that they didn't have to pretend or invoke their false selves with the other but Harry was horny. To entice him, Harry said. "My favorite project by far was Dr. Chambers."
"I wanted him!" Dexter said, eye's flashing in competition.
"Sorry." Harry chucked and gently pushed Dexter's head down where he wanted it. Dexter resisted for a moment and Harry let him but didn't talk about Dr. Chambers either. With a sigh Dexter leaned forward on the couch and tentatively took Harry in his mouth while making a face.
"He was a fat bastard, plenty of space of my art." Dexter groaned while Harry described the project in detail, pausing and panting intermediately as Dexter pleasured him. He pulled out so Dexter wouldn't have to swallow and spilled on the floor, bowing slightly as his bones seemed to melt.
He winked at Dexter and cleaned them up. He settled down on the couch next to Dexter and they talked until dawn. As Harry was leaving he leaned up and kissed Dexter sweetly. "I don't know what it is about you Dex, but If I could feel, I'd probably feel for you."