Head on Straight

Being a manager wasn't so hard. Okay, yeah, two days in and things were kind of going to shit, but it kept him busy. Kept him focused. Focused was good. He hoped. Twelve interviews in two days and he realized he really didn't know the first thing about what to look for in a prospective employee. Charles lit a cigarillo, taking a deep drag before closing his eyes and tilting his head back to blow the smoke up at the ceiling.

Warm hands slid over his shoulders, and his eyes snapped open, finding the honey gaze of Cammus' eyes staring back at him. He grinned, bringing his cigarillo to his lips again. Blowing the smoke out to the side, he said, "Hey. Aren't you supposed to be pulling orders in the back?" He arched an eyebrow.

Cammus chuffed, flicking his mandibles. "Yeah … but I'm friends with the boss, so I'm pretty sure I can get away with taking a break." Pressing his fingers into Charles' tense muscles, he started rubbing slow, deep circles, making Charles groan. "Anyone promising yet?"

Grunting, Charles sat up straight again and sorted through the datapads sprawled out on the table in front of him. Picking one up for a woman—human—named Hannah Martin, he handed it to Cammus. "To work up front." Grabbing another, he waited for Cammus to sit down next to him before passing it over. "For the back. Tell me what you think. You'll be working with him."

Humming, Cammus sat down Hannah's information and picked up the datapad for a salarian man named Meerka Solan. Charles watched him as she scrolled through the information, wondering what Cammus was doing later after work. Maybe Ares was right, and having a good fuck would help him keep his head on straight, too. He couldn't let himself get as carried away with Cammus, but damn, the turian was quite the sight with his ass in the air, head thrown back in ecstasy.

Nose plates twitching, Cammus looked up, letting out a soft, curious sounding trill as he met Charles' gaze. Taking in a deeper breath, he seemed to roll the scent a moment before setting the datapad back down on the table. He stood up, waving his fingers at Charles as he held a hand out to him. "Come on. You're carrying a lot of tension, let me help." He flicked a mandible, letting out a low, seductive rumble. "They haven't installed the new cameras in the back, yet."

Putting out his cigarillo, Charles slipped his hand into Cammus' and let the turian pull him to his feet. "You're too good to me," he said with a chuckle, free hand sliding around Cammus' waist to give him a little squeeze.

Cammus chuffed, leaning in to nip Charles' neck, voice low and gravely next to his ear. "Who says I want to do it just for you?"

Charles smirked and squeezed Cammus' waist a little harder, earning him another low rumble. Pulling back, Cammus stepped away, leading Charles by the hand to the stock room. They wove through the maze of shelves until they were well hidden from the door and would have a chance to put themselves back in order if Mahlia came looking for them. Cammus stopped, turning back to Charles and closing in on him. Charles draped his arms over Cammus' shoulders, welcoming him closer and squeezed his crest.

Rumbling, Cammus ducked his head to nip at Charles' jaw and untucked his shirt. Sliding his hands beneath the fabric, Cammus dragged his gloved talons down Charles' spine, leaving thin trails of fire in his wake. Charles hissed and groaned, his cock stirring to life, and he closed his eyes, tilting his head to the side, giving Cammus permission and access. Teeth pressed into the sensitive skin of his throat, not hard enough to draw blood, but more than enough to make the beast purr in the back of his mind.

Cammus turned, urging Charles to follow and pushed him down on a crate. Kneeling in front of him, Cammus made quick work of Charles' belt and undid his pants, freeing his rock hard cock to the cool air of the storage room. He leaned back on his palms, resting his head against the wall and letting out a groan ending in a whimper when Cammus' hot, wet tongue wrapped around his cock.

Rumbling, Cammus closed his mouth around Charles before taking one of Charles' hands in his, moving it to his crest. Charles froze, heart slamming against his chest, memories threatening to flood his senses, and he pulled his hand away as if he'd been burned by fire. Cammus stopped, looking up at Charles, concern clear in his eyes.

Charles licked his lips and shook his head, moving his hand to Cammus' shoulder. "I'm alright. Just … triggered a bad memory." Forcing a smile on his face, he lifted his hips from the crate and squeezed Cammus' shoulder. "Don't stop."

Cammus fluttered his mandibles, an uncertain trill seeping out of him, but he wrapped his hand around the base of Charles' cock and got back to it, licking, sucking, and pumping Charles closer and closer to cumming.

"You brought cookies to our meeting?" Mahlia asked, a suppressed smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

"What's wrong with bringing cookies to our meeting?" Charles pulled out a chair and sat down as he lit a cigarillo.

Okal huffed a little, fanning the air in front of her, but none of the others even batted an eye at the fragrant smoke. Besides, its not like the ventilators weren't running.

Mahlia chuckled and took a seat next to him, picking up one of the cookies to turn over in her hand. "What about Cammus?"

"He's not allergic, and it's not like cookies are exactly nutritious anyway." Charles pulled the ashtray closer. "But," Charles said, leaning forward enough to point out the few that lined the side of the box, a divider separating them from the rest, "I picked these out for Cammus, they're dextro."

Cammus chuckled, picking out one of the cookies before breaking a small piece off and tossing it in his mouth. He crunched it between the points of his teeth a couple of times, breaking it up even smaller before swallowing. Grinning at Charles, he flicked a mandible. "Not bad."

"Alright," Charles said and then took a drag, gaze roaming over the group, "so, has everyone had a chance to introduce themselves to Hannah and Meerka?" He watched as everyone glanced around and nodded before continuing. "Good. Hannah will be working up front with Mahlia and Okal—when Okal's here. Meerka, you'll be working in the back with Cammus. I'll be moving back and forth between both areas to check in with you periodically, but after orientation and training, I won't be with you regularly so if you have questions, don't hesitate to ask the people you're working with."

"It's a little more urgent to get Hannah set up in the front, so Hannah, today I'll be working with you." He turned his gaze to Meerka. "Tomorrow, I'll be with you. For today, Cammus will be having you stack filled orders next to the shipping door."

Muscles burning, sweat dripping down his everything, Charles finally stepped off the mat, nodding to Cammus to let him know he was finished. Grabbing a towel, he wiped sweat from his eyes before rubbing it over his head and neck.

"You're pushing yourself a lot harder." It sounded like an observation, but coming from Cammus, it was probably more of an invitation to talk.

"Yeah …." Charles draped the towel over his shoulder and started stretching. "Just trying to keep my head on straight."

Humming, Cammus stretched out his own muscles, watching Charles with a curious set to his gaze. "Everything alright?"

Charles flashed a smile at him and nodded as he lowered his arm from across his chest. "Yeah, I'm good. Just adapting to the new responsibilities is all."

And trying to make sure I don't blackout and go on a killing spree. Just normal shit like that.

"Speaking of, I should hit the showers and get dressed." He smirked. "And, you're supposed to clock in in less than an hour."

Cammus chuckled. "You like reminding people you're in charge, don't you?"

"I'm sure it'll wear off soon enough." Charles smirked and winked at him as he turned to leave.

"Hey," Cammus said, and Charles stopped to look at him with a raised brow. Fluttering his mandibles, Cammus seemed to hesitate a moment before saying, "When Aelianus is gone … you're welcome to bring Eezo and stay over at my place if you don't want to be alone." He shifted a little, mandibles stilling. "Especially when they still haven't found the Bloodbath Butcher."

Charles' throat spasmed a little, and he glanced down at the mat in front of Cammus' feet. "I, uh … I don't do so well sleeping around other people, and I really don't want to sleep next to anyone but Aelianus." He swallowed, looking up to meet Cammus' gaze. "But I wouldn't mind hanging out for awhile. Tonight, after work, if you're not busy?"

Smiling, Cammus bobbed his head in a nod. "Sure."

He'd decided to take a couple of hours off mid-day, one of the many perks of being Shift Manager. After heading back home to eat lunch and walk Eezo, he decided to spend some time practicing with the knives Jasmine gave him for his birthday. It wasn't exactly something he could do in the park, using a tree or something as a target—he'd get cited for destruction of Citadel property. So, he'd mentioned it to Saelus the last time he went to the range to work with his Stiletto III.

The old turian offered to set him up a target at the far end of the range, something he could use just for knife throwing. Charles offered to pay them more for the accommodation, but Saelus only waved him off. He'd grown comfortable enough with the turian, and didn't really mind so much when he looked up a few times to see Saelus watching him as he tended to his own work, cleaning stalls and straightening the tables. Charles just wished he wasn't sucking so spectacularly at hitting the target and getting the blade to stick, especially with an audience.

The shuffling of deliberate footsteps sounded from behind him, and then Saelus let out a low hum. "Has anyone given you any pointers for the knives yet?"

"No," Charles said, glancing over his shoulder before turning his attention back to the target and throwing another knife. "They were a gift, just got them a few days ago."

Rumbling again, Saelus shifted a little closer. "Would you like a few tips?"

Moving down to the target, Charles gathered up the knives, meeting Saelus' gaze as he made his way back. He nodded his head and handed a knife over. "Sure."

"There are two main ways to throw a knife: by the handle or by the blade. There are variants of both, but I'll show you the basics." Saelus flipped the knife over a couple of times in his fingers. "These are nice and sharp … whoever made them designed them to be used to slice too, if needed. Since you're not practiced, I suggest mastering throwing by the handle first."

Charles nodded his understanding, watching as Saelus positioned his fingers around the handle and did his best to mimic the grip with his five-fingered hand.

"Good." Saelus hummed and nodded. "Pick where on the target you want your blade to land, and keep your eyes on it. For now, focus dead center." Setting the knife in his hand down on the ledge, he moved a little closer to Charles, gesturing at Charles' arm. "Is it alright if I …?"

He prickled a little, muscles twitching at the thought of being touched by someone he didn't know all that well, but he nodded. "Yeah."

Saelus moved to stand behind and to the side of Charles, settling one hand just beneath Charles' elbow while gently wrapping his fingers around Charles' wrist. Hunching down, he brought his head level with Charles'. "You're going to pull your arm back like this." He pushed Charles' elbow up, tugging his wrist back until it felt like he was about to swing a hammer or chop wood. "Then, you're going to come forward like this, sighting your target down the blade. When you get almost level with your target, you'll let go." After moving Charles' hand back into position, he let go and stepped back. "Give it a try."

Charles kicked off his shoes and threw his feet up on the table, reaching over to pet Eezo who'd curled up against Cammus' side. "What do you want to watch?"

Rumbling as he thought it over, Cammus leaned over and picked up the remote, turning on the vid screen. He flipped through channels, coming to a stop on some action show with explosions and turians fighting in the background. He turned it down a little and tossed the remote back on the table.

They weren't watching for long, though, before the restlessness set in. He went to the kitchen for drinks and snacks, setting them on the table before taking his seat again. Two minutes later he was on his feet once more, wandering aimlessly from one room to the next. On his way out of his bedroom for the second time, he damn near walked right into Cammus. Gasping and jumping, he slapped his hand over his chest and laughed at himself. He looked up, seeking Cammus' gaze, ready to make a joke about how quiet turians were, but something in his eyes gave Charles pause.

Mandibles flaring, Cammus let out a low rumble of a growl. "Either talk to me or fuck me until you collapse. I don't know what's going on with you the last few days, Charles, but if you don't get it out one way or another, it's going to drive you insane."

Reaching up to rub the back of his neck, Charles swallowed and shook his head. "I can't talk about it. I'm sorry, I just … can't."

If it bothered Cammus, if it hurt him in any way for Charles to refuse to open up to him, he didn't let it show. Instead, he just leaned in and scraped his teeth across Charles' neck, up close next to his ear. Voice lowering an octave or two, subvocals thrumming, he said. "Then fuck me, Charles." Gloveless talon scraping down the other side of Charles' throat, Cammus growled. "Hard and fast. Let go the way you did the first time before Aelianus made you rein it in."

Fighting the urge to succumb, pants growing uncomfortably tight, Charles shook his head. "You don't want that, don't want me to go to that place."

"Will it help you?" Cammus purred, nuzzling against Charles' neck as his hand trailed down, talons scraping over his chest but not hard enough to rip through the fabric of his shirt.

Swallowing again, Charles licked his lips. "Maybe, but it might make it worse, too. I don't know, but I don't want to risk hurting you."

"You won't hurt me." Cammus chuffed, a cocky edge to his tone. "I can take it."

Charles wrapped a hand around the back of Cammus' head and pulled back, making the turian look him in the eye. "No, Cammus. I'm not … I'm not me when I'm in that place. It's not a good place."

Cammus hummed, holding Charles' gaze for a long moment before he finally nodded. "Alright. What do you need, then?"

To kill. To cut and bleed a man to death. To dig my blade so deep into his skin and fat and muscle that I reach bone and his screams never stop echoing in my ears. I need to feed the beast.

Forcing a smile on his face, Charles slid his hand down Cammus' neck, over his cowl and keel before taking his hand in his. Tugging at him, leading him back into the room, Charles said, "Oh, I still think fucking you sounds like a good idea."

Cammus chuckled, mandibles fluttering softly. "Works for me."

Pulling at the closures of Cammus' shirt, Charles spread the lapels, baring the turian's chest. He ran his hands over the man's keel before shoving them between his shirt and shoulders, pushing the shirt off and letting it fall to the floor. Cammus rumbled, picking at the buttons holding Charles' shirt closed. Charles ran his hands over smooth plate and warm hide, stopping to grab Cammus' waist and squeeze, tearing a ragged, rumbling breath from the turian.

Stepping away, Charles tugged his shirt off and tossed it aside before lifting the tanktop he had beneath up over his head and letting it drop. He looked over Cammus, the predator rising to the surface of the stillwaters as he stalked closer to Charles. Undoing his pants, he smirked, letting them slide down his hips and reaching for Cammus as he neared. Grabbing Cammus, he turned the turian and gently pushed him back on the bed before bending over to open his pants, carefully tugging them down.

He took his time, knowing how sensitive Cammus' spurs were, rubbing and squeezing them as he unsnapped and pulled away the covering. Cammus let out a hissing groan, plates starting to spread. Tossing the other man's pants away, Charles rubbed his hands over Cammus' thighs, working his way back up to the spot of blue peeking through the turian's plates. He rubbed his palm over the slit, feeling the slickness of Cammus' natural lubricant already starting to seep through, coating his hand in it as he coaxed the turian's cock free.

Standing up, Charles slid the same hand over his own cock, transfering the wetness and stoking his own fires as he looked at the man sprawled out on his bed. "Scoot up there," he said, jerking his head toward the pillows.

Cammus trilled and pushed himself up on the bed the rest of the way. "How do you want me?"

"However you want to be." Charles opened the drawer of the side table, grabbing the bottle of lube and tossing it on the bed next to Cammus before pressing his knees to the mattress.

Seeming to take a moment to think about, Cammus finally settled into the pillows on his back, giving Charles a hopeful look. That was a first for them, but it didn't bother Charles any, if that's what Cammus wanted. Moving between his legs, Charles picked the bottle of lube back up and squeezed some out in his hand. He rubbed some onto his cock before using the back of his hand so spread Cammus' legs futher and slid a lubed finger into his opening.

Cammus purred, reaching out to drag his talons over Charles' chest and arms, leaving red welts in his wake and making Charles' cock twitch and ache to be inside of the turian. Pushing a little deeper, Charles made sure Cammus was good and relaxed before pulling his finger free and lining himself up. He met Cammus' gaze, silently asking for consent, and the turian lifted his hips, pushing against Charles, rumbling low and deep in his chest. Easing his cock inside, Charles tipped his head back, letting out a growl of his own as the tight, hot, wetness surrounded him.

Well spent and exhausted, Charles rubbed his face on the pillows, rolling over and throwing an arm over Eezo. Sleep pulled at him, dragging him down into the dark abyss, but as he started to drift on the buoyant currents of sleep, the beast stirred. Eyes snapping open, Charles pushed himself up, raking a hand through his hair. Eezo whined, and he looked down at her, sucking in a deep breath.

Leaning over, he kissed the top of her head. "Sorry, girl. I can't sleep yet."

He rolled over, crawling out of bed and making his way to the shower. Turning on the water as hot as he could stand it, he stepped inside, hissing at the sudden, stinging shock of heat. Throwing an arm up against the wall, he pressed his forehead to it and squeezed his eyes closed, taking slow, deep breaths. Blood splashed on the backs of his eyes, Andrew Polk's screams bouncing off the inside of his skull as images of his last prey's death resurfaced from whatever depths the beast kept them.

The beast stalks Andrew clear across the Citadel, watching where he goes and who he speaks to. Waiting. Impatiently waiting. The thirst for blood leaves his throat parched. He wants to stab and slice, strip away flesh and muscle, wants to dig down deep and rip the entrails from the man's body.

How does Charles do it? How does he stay so calm when it's right there for the taking?

The man deserves it, deserves everything the beast will do to him and so much more. He's a rapist. A sick fuck like the assholes who raped and killed Sarah. Who hurt Charles. Oh, their screams were so delicious. He can still feel the heat of their blood on his hands and face, drenching his clothes to slide down his body, and he wants more. Needs more.

It's so easy, too easy, to convince the much larger man to follow him into the keeper tunnels. The beast taps into Charles' past, pulls out all of the old tricks to lure Andrew in, playing on the man's desire to dominate. Even if he isn't interested in paying for sex from men, he's interested in hurting men. Hurting women. Hurting anyone he can to prove to himself that he holds the power. It's all the beast needs to bait his trap.

Smile and flirt, bat his eyes and draw in his shoulders, making him look even smaller, weaker … easier prey. And Andrew leers at him, his own monster licking its fangs from behind his eyes, hungry and ready to pounce. The man's so cocky, so sure of himself, he doesn't even bat an eye when the beast opens the door and gestures him inside.

Before the door even closes all the way behind him, the beast pulls out the baton, snapping his wrist to expand it and lock it in place completely before hitting Andrew over the back of the head. The satisfying crunch as metal fractures bone sends a wave of pleasure straight to the beast's cock. Andrew collapses, becoming nothing more than dead, bleeding weight on the tunnel floor.

Grabbing the man by his ankles, the beast drags Andrew farther into the Citadel's hidden network until he catches an acrid scent. Dropping Andrew, the beast moves to the edge, looking over the railing, and he spots the protein vats down below.

Perfect.

Eezo whined and scratched at the bathroom door, snapping Charles back to the present. He sucked in a gasping breath, shaking, cold deep in his bones despite the hot water still washing down over his back and head.

Fuck me.

He scrubbed his hands over his face before tilting his head back under the water, letting it roar in his ears, trying to wash away the throbbing in his skull. He had to find a way to keep the beast in check, to keep himself from going back over that edge. He … he had to get away from the Citadel for a little while. Go somewhere where he could take the leash off for a bit, let the beast run itself out. Maybe that would help. Maybe it was what he needed. And then, he'd put the leash back on, but … but take the beast out for regular enough 'walks' that it didn't feel like it needed to force its way out and take over.

What if I can't get the leash back on?

"Then I'll find you and put it back on you," Ares' voice said in the back of his head.

Charles took another deep breath and nodded his head. "Okay."