Chapter Text
“Ah! Fuck!” Will’s head whipped sharply to the side, the rough kiss of red brick scraping across his cheek on impact. Stunned, he brought his hands up to his face, gun lax in his hand in a delayed effort to protect himself. A fist connected to his stomach, unskilled, but unyielding. He buckled. His gun was twisted from his fingers, Will could hear it clatter down towards the mouth of the alleyway to his right. He cracked his eyes open, vision fogged behind his glasses.
“I just wanted your wallet man,” his mugger slurred.
Will spit a glob of blood out onto the concrete between them. “Shouldn’t have attacked a cop, then.”
The mugger swore. Will continued to breathe deep rasps, thinking how he was going to get himself out of this little mess. He didn’t get far. “Fuck this.”
Will didn’t see what happened, but he heard it and he felt it keenly. Something crunched into his face, smacking his head back into the wall behind him and shattering the glass of his lenses. He screamed, feeling the bite of glass, blood pooling around his vision as he hunched over.
It took him far too long to realize that his scream of pain had been echoed by another's. Something heavy fell. Then footsteps, measured and even, approached him. He could feel the warmth of someone standing over him, then suddenly there were rough hands at the sides of his face. Will twitched and reflexively tried to see, hissing when his eyes burned.
“Arrête de bouger .”
French?
“ Who are you? ” Will asked. The man didn’t reply. It certainly wasn’t the same guy as before, but that was all he could tell. Will tried asking again in French this time. “Who are you? Where did the other–”
“Stay still, your eyes are bleeding.” The man said, ignoring both questions. He still wasn’t responding in English. Will felt oddly lucky for his ability to speak the one language he needed. Something about the solid Parisian accent made him too nervous to respond with his own Cajun education but at least he had a solid understanding. The man practically sounded like a textbook recording.
Fingers prodded around his temples and face, carefully extracting the bent frames of his glasses. “There is glass in your skin and it’s difficult to see around the blood.” Something about the man’s unbothered analysis was a comfort. “I am a doctor, if you would come with me, I will take care of you.”
Will nodded, not sure of his other options and honestly in too much pain to really think of any. The man helped him up with a strong hand under his bicep, hauling him to his feet and nearly dragging him away. Will tripped on something solid as he stood, keenly aware of his savior’s “careful ” murmured in his ear.
Will didn’t bother to ask about the mugger. His world was still dark reds and blacks dancing erratically behind his scissor-sharp eyelids. He only had so much energy to care. He was led to a car and helped inside and for a moment Will feared he was going to be kidnapped by some strange French doctor in the middle of the night. The door on the driver’s side opened and Will tensed slightly when he felt the car settle beneath them. “What is your home address?”
Will’s head snapped to the side, “You’re taking me home?”
The man hummed and started the car, the click of a seatbelt ringing in Will’s ears. “Yes. I have a medical kit with me and I imagine it will be easier for you to navigate a space you are familiar with.”
Will shook his head slightly, shaking off the few unfamiliar words that went over his head. “Not a hospital?”
“Would you prefer a hospital? ” The stranger seemed to know the answer.
Will offered a twisted smile and shook his head. “I’m not fond of doctors in general.”
He heard the other chuckle lightly. “Let’s hope I can change your opinion of me, at least.”
“You’re on thin ice but I can’t exactly look a gift horse in the mouth at the moment.” Will was rewarded with another warm chuckle. He rattled off his address and after a moment heard a navigation system softly speak out the directions. It was a kindness the stranger was offering, allowing him to hear exactly where he was going when he couldn’t see.
“Rest if you’re able, ” the stranger said.
Without the visual to keep him distracted from the pain, Will felt exhaustion keenly. He slumped back against the smooth leather seats and groaned softly. “What’s your name?”
“I'm not at liberty to say.”
Will turned that over in his head for a moment. “And you’re not actually French, are you?”
“Correct,” the man sounded like he was smiling. The navigation cheerily welcomed them to Virginia.
A sharp tingle itched at the back of Will's mind. His empathy didn’t ring as strongly without the visual tells he usually picked up on, but his instincts and experience were nothing to sneeze at. This man knew him and was intentionally hiding his identity. “Are you going to kill me?”
There was a longer pause this time and something in Will appreciated that the man didn’t immediately deny it. “I would very much prefer not to.”
“Quite an answer,” Will responded dryly. Figures that he'd be saved from assault by a killer. He probably should’ve been more concerned about that.
“I would prefer to be honest with you.” He said, and something about his tone irritated Will.
“And yet you won’t tell me your name.” He snapped tiredly.
If the man was insulted by the snipe, he didn’t give any indication. In fact, he seemed almost amused. “You may yet be surprised, dear Will. You may not know my name, but I assure you that you do know who I am.”
Will scrunched his face in exasperation and immediately regretted it when it pulled on his eyes. “Ow, fuck.”
“We’re nearly there. I believe you are past due for some pain killers.”
“Understatement,” Will mumbled. The car turned onto a familiar gravel road and Will felt himself relax marginally as he recognized home. It wasn’t long before the car pulled to a stop and the engine was cut. Will reached impatiently for the door handle and was stopped by a firm hand on his arm.
“Allow me.”
He waited as the stranger walked around the car to help him up. As averse as he was to being on the receiving end of such chivalry, he had to admit he appreciated not having to think so much right now. They made it to the front door with little fuss.
It was once they opened the door that Will realized things were about to get interesting. The dogs crowded around him and the stranger, hopping and barking and whining as they greeted him. A few of them rubbed against his legs, clearly in tune with his pain though they had no idea what to do.
“Hey guys, easy, easy,” he muttered, whistling a quick trill that got them to settle, though a few continued to whine. He could also hear some aggressive sniffing to his right and wondered how the doctor was faring with all the dog hair. He didn’t verbally comment on the sheer number of dogs crowding his living space, but the pointed silence spoke for itself.
“Where is your bathroom?”
Will pointed vaguely down the hall and was ushered on shuffling feet through his home. He sat on the closed lid of the toilet and amused himself with the sounds of shuffling under his cabinets. The sound of the zipper on his medical kit sliced through the air and suddenly there was the press of a damp cotton ball grazing his temple. Will flinched slightly at the contact but held steady as he felt it wiping away crusted blood and debris.
The doctor worked in silence for a while and Will felt himself zone out slightly at the feel of those sure, calloused hands working steadily on cleaning his face. It was strangely intimate, in a way that being manhandled hadn’t been, to have his unseeing eyes turned up to a man who had very likely killed his attacker not an hour prior. Those same hands were now gentle but firm in their care. Unyielding, confident… Possessive? Perhaps that was too far to read without actually having a visual of the situation. Feelings were obviously shown in many different ways, reflected in cues like body language. Will could feel more from this stranger now that he was closer, but he had always trusted his ability to see more than anything.
“What’s the damage, doctor?” He asked when the silence began to feel empty.
“Largely superficial, you won't need any stitches tonight," he hummed and Will almost thought he could feel a warm whisper of his breath. "Though I do need to check your eyes."
Will startled at that. "And let me see your face?"
The other chuckled lowly. "Now Will, you know better than that."
Sure, but still.
The doctor tilted his head up until Will could see the red glow of his eyelids. "Keep your eyes closed. Tell me if you see a change in light." The left eye grew dark, then the right, then left again. He relayed this promptly. "Good," his head was tilted down again by those large hands. "Your eyes are still receptive to light, which is promising. Once your eyelids have healed, I recommend visiting an optometrist."
"Why not let me see one now?"
"And cut our dalliance short?" The doctor hummed. "I find myself unwilling to part with you just yet, even at the risk of your discomfort."
Will fought the urge to snort unattractively. Bastard. He moved to stand when there was another movement in front of him. "Wait."
The feeling of gauze pressing against his eyelids was both a boon and a brand, aching and yet applying a sweet pressure to the tender skin beneath. "Is this for my health or for yours?" Will commented, lightly tapping the edge of what was essentially a blindfold.
"Your health either way," the doctor replied coolly. "It wouldn't do either of us any favors if you were to see my face."
"Meaning you would be compelled to kill me."
"An unfortunate outcome, assuredly, and one I would like to see avoided."
The honesty was reassuring, which in and of itself, was unsavory.
"Come, let me make you something light to eat." The doctor grabbed Will's arm once again. "It's no good to take pain medication on an empty stomach."
Will didn't bother to protest as he was led out of the bathroom, stepping carefully around the warm hurtles of his dogs as they attempted to greet him. He was ushered to his dining table and left to sit with his hands surrounded by cold noses while his sparse fridge was raided. He heard some disapproving tutting and smiled to himself. "Eggs it is, then."
Will found himself once again lulled by the sounds of someone else doing menial tasks. The crack and sluice of eggs, the rhythmic scrape of a fork against a ceramic bowl, the dull brush of a wooden spoon against his non-stick pans painted such a vivid image. He attempted to picture the doctor in his mind. The height was close to his own, strong and sturdy build, large hands…
He was startled out of his daydreaming by a dry hand grabbing his own and the cool slide of a fork between his fingers. The smell of warm food wafted up and he realized there was a plate in front of him already. Will felt the warmth of breath against his ear as a hand slid its way across the back of his shoulders. "Bon appetit."
He shivered. He shoveled eggs into his mouth to cover the reaction but he knew the man had seen.
"You have an uncomfortably large stash of aspirin for someone living alone," the doctor commented, setting down a few pills and a full glass.
"I get headaches," Will retorted between bites.
There was a pointed silence. "Perhaps it is a boon that your sight has been impaired, it seems that looking at what you do has had a harsh impact."
"And what do you know of what I do, doctor?" Will challenged, suddenly tired of the anonymity. "Have you read about me online? Tattlecrime isn't what one would call impressive journalism." The chair beneath the doctor creaked as he settled. Will could almost see him folding his hands in his lap as if to offer some sort of therapy. He bristled.
"I have indeed read about you. You gaze into the minds of killers, stepping into their perspectives and psyches to find their motivations, their weak points. You shed your person suit for that of another. I cannot help but wonder how unsatisfying you find it to put the original back on."
"Are you implying that I like seeing what I see when I step into their minds?" Will demanded, frustrated that his glare was blocked by gauze.
"On the contrary," the doctor went on. "I think perhaps instead of shimmying your way into the ill fitting suits of others, what you may be in need of is a good tailor for yourself."
Will felt himself fumble over the extended metaphor. "You…" What?
His grip tightened around his fork. This guy knew more than he was letting on. He knew Will more than he was letting on. Something deep in Will's subconscious reached out, finding something dark. Something almost familiar. "Who are you?"
"You know who I am, Will." The doctor said softly, imploringly. "You see me better than most could ever dream."
See.
See.
Will dropped his fork with a loud clatter, pushing back his chair sharply only to be stopped by a hand scruffing the back of his neck, another gripping firmly into his thigh. "Who am I, Will?" His breath teased over Will's covered eyes.
Will swallowed around his dry throat, his fight-or-flight giving in to freezing on the spot, his pulse hammering in his neck and through his aching face.
"The Ripper."
The doctor – the Chesapeake Ripper – hummed in satisfaction, leaning in to whisper into his ear. "A pleasure to finally meet you in person, Will Graham."
The way his name rolled off the Ripper's tongue in his Parisian accent should not have sent goosebumps rippling across his arms, and yet.
A weighted moment sat heavy in the air before the Ripper inhaled deeply and sighed. He leaned back and Will felt the press of two round pills in his hand. "Take these."
Honestly, anything to break the tension. Will threw them back dry, ignoring the Ripper's tutting. "I worry about leaving you alone if this is how you treat yourself."
"What, don't want me to kick the bucket before you get me yourself?" Will snarked, fumbling his way towards his living room. He nearly tripped over one of his dogs when a hand wrapped itself like a steel bar around his bicep.
"It would be an incredible waste to see you perish so soon, be it at my hand or your own," the Ripper admitted. Something in his tone struck Will solidly. A conversation he had with Jack Crawford over an impressively displayed corpse echoed through him–
“There’s something… sad about it.” He had said.
“A man is dead, of course–”
“No, no, from the killer… The Ripper…” Will huffed with frustration. “Sad isn’t the right word.”
“I hardly care about semantics at this point, Will.” Jack had groused.
“He’s lonely,” Will cut in, his mind whirling as he took in the corpse of a man splayed wide, heart filling the hollowed and parted cavity of his ribs. The palms were up, pleading, hopeful…
“Longing.”
"–You want a companion," Will whispered, almost to himself as he shivered back into the present. "What all artists want, to be seen… To be understood." He felt his face crumple at the realization. "Who better to understand you than the one who can don your suits?"
He shook off the Ripper's hand, surprised when it actually fell away. "No, Will, remember as I said; I would see you wearing only your own, though perhaps something more… refined, fitting."
Will ignored the implied barb towards his wardrobe. "You want me to be like you?"
"Are you not already?"
"No!"
"Is that the ill-fitting suit talking?" The Ripper cut back. "The one you wear for Jack Crawford or your students? The color does not suit you, Will, the cut is all wrong. How many hand-me-down person suits will you deign to camouflage yourself in before you notice they were never really yours?"
Will wanted to punch him so badly. "Don't psychoanalyze me."
"I will stop when you stop lying to yourself."
"You'd make a terrible therapist."
That surprised a genuine laugh out of the Ripper and Will was startled to find that he appreciated the sound. He twitched slightly when a calloused palm caressed the side of his face. “You are a wonder, Will Graham.”
Will felt his face heat at the compliment, unused to such blatant affection directed at him. He licked his lips, eager to break the tension when he was interrupted by a gentle pressure against them. The Ripper tilted up his chin to slot his lips against Will’s, claiming his mouth thoroughly but without force. Will, for his part, felt his mind slow down to a crawl as he moved to accept the kiss automatically. His lips slid against the others, the scrape of his stubble sliding against the Ripper’s large hands.
He pulled away, the soft click of their lips parting rang in Will’s ears. “What the hell was that?”
“A kiss, if I’m not mistaken.”
“Putain.” Will breathed, his traitorous brain trying to catch up from where it stuttered. The Ripper’s hand still held his face close, he could practically feel those lips smiling. “You know what I mean. Be honest with me.”
He could feel the Ripper sigh. “You were right, in your insight. For all that I am and all that I have accomplished, I am at my core a lonely man.” He ran his hand down the side of Will’s face and to his neck, subtly feeling at his pulse. “Like all lonely men, I wish to find someone to give my life… enrichment.”
Will raised his eyebrow at that, knowing it would be seen above the cover on his eyes. “And you believe my presence would be… enriching?”
The Ripper chuckled, stepping impossibly closer. “It already has been and we have only just met in person.” He whispered the words against Will’s lips, his accent thickening as the heat between them grew. “My only wish now is to both liberate and possess you.”
“Jesus…” That should not have sent such a sharp thread of arousal through him. A part of him feared he was reflecting the interest the Ripper had in him yet when he tried to picture it, he failed. In a way, his sight being stripped from him had freed him from such mistrust of his own senses.
The Ripper was interested in him.
And Will was interested right back.
“What about the part where you’re a serial killer and I work for the FBI?” Will whispered back, tilting his head closer to barely graze their lips together again, a tease. “How do I justify that?”
“My Will…” The Ripper pecked him lightly with an obvious smile. “Once you finally shed that person suit of yours, you won’t have to justify anything.” Lips began to trail down the side of his neck and Will was helpless to the attention. He felt the teasing bite of blunt teeth against the meat of his shoulder and could helplessly admit in the privacy of his own mind that this was the most exciting thing to happen to him in a very long time. “Tell me, Will,” the Ripper whispered against his clavicle, his fingers twirling at the buttons on the front of Will’s shirt. “What do you want?”
Will breathed, the darkness behind his eyes sharpening the feeling of the Ripper all around him. He could feel the slide of his lips and hands, the rustle of his shirt, the gentle tickle of straight hair on his throat.
Liberate and possess you…
“I want to be seen .”
“Then allow me the pleasure of looking at you,” The Ripper grinned against his skin. Will nodded jerkily and felt himself sigh out some unknown tension when the first of his buttons was released. The Ripper followed them down his chest, oddly clinical and yet undeniably sensual. The shirt fell to the floor behind him. Large, dry hands ran over his chest and shoulders, taking in his physique and clearly appreciating it. Will could imagine his gaze following the trail of his hands, the attention was heady. “Knowing your mind is one thing,” The Ripper hummed, hands lingering around the jut of Will’s hips over the edge of his jeans. “But your body…”
“You said you wanted to possess me.” Will said in a rush. The hands stopped their movement. “How far does that go?”
“As far as you will allow me.” The response was immediate, breathed out fiercely.
“And no further?” Will challenged.
“I am a patient man,” he replied. “I would only ever see your passion in this.”
Will swallowed.
“You have reservations?”
“So many,” Will laughed, incredulous. He honestly couldn’t believe he was seriously considering this. With a stranger. With a known serial killer. With the Chesapeake Ripper.
“But you are curious.”
It wasn’t a question. Will nodded anyway.
“If you would allow me, I would help you sate that curiosity.” The Ripper whispered, soft like a benediction. “Allow me to see you, to explore you, taste you…” He interrupted himself to kiss at Will’s throat once more.
“And then?” Will breathed, already feeling the magnetic pull on his body towards the other.
“Whatever we like.”
“Generous,” he smiled widely, wincing as it pulled slightly on his face. He could barely fathom getting into this situation and what he was agreeing to. A night with the Ripper. Dangerous but… so fucking exciting.
“Okay,” Will finally answered. “Tonight… you can have me.”
The Ripper instantly found his mouth again, claiming it roughly and with a fierceness Will had never yet experienced from a partner. ‘Sealed with a kiss,’ Will thought, delirious with arousal. He was pushed and pressed backwards until he was prone on his bed, the sheets wrinkled up under him and the force of a strong body loomed over him. His breath felt heavy in his lungs.
“Tonight I will treat you tenderly,” the Ripper said, his fingers dancing down Will’s abdomen. “I will treasure you and honor you as you so clearly have not been for too long.”
Will swallowed down some heavy emotion.
“Next time, however,” the man continued. “Should we find ourselves here again, I will claim you, thoroughly and savagely as you have come to know me from my work.”
Will shuddered, fear and lust battling out in his chest as it heaved. “From your art…” He whispered out unbidden.
Above him the Ripper growled, low and pleased. “You would be my greatest piece, painted with my marks, a breathing Botticelli…”
“Would you display me?”
The Ripper paused, considering this seriously. “It would please me greatly to show you off, of course, though a certain possessiveness would have such a state of you exist for my eyes only.”
“Narcissistic behavior, very common in serial killers.”
That earned Will a bite to the nipple. He arched off the bed at the sharp pain.
“Stop trying to goad me, I promised you tenderness.”
“Sorry.”
“Very insincere, Will.” He tutted. Then suddenly his pants were loose and being tugged down his legs, interrupting any possible snarky response he could’ve given. Hands ran down his thighs, kneading at the muscle there and bracketing the swell hidden by his boxers. “Exquisite.”
A firm nose pressed into the seam, breathing in deeply and Will tried to wiggle away in embarrassment. Hands held him down to the mattress as the Ripper took his fill. “I have a very keen sense of smell,” he muttered, unprompted. “I can easily pick out subtle notes in wine and even disease leaking from a person’s pores.”
Will swallowed down the obvious question hovering in the air.
“You,” the Ripper continued, showing a small mercy. “Smell divine.”
Fuck.
“Would…”
Fuck, was he really…?
“Would you like to taste?”
And where the hell did that come from?
He felt a teasing but approving kiss to his dick through the thin fabric stretched across it and nearly lost his mind. “Confidence suits you, my Will.” Gone were his boxers and the warmth of the Chesapeake Ripper’s mouth descended on him, insistent and sure as it explored the firm length of him with lips and tongue.
“Holy shit .” Will hissed, hips flexing and back arching obscenely. He winced slightly as he clenched his eyes closed at the pleasure. The Ripper’s hands held him down as he swallowed down around his cock, insistent and explorative. Will shivered under the attention, some ravenous part of him basking in the fact that he was laid bare, an offering to a killer, and being taken apart by hands that had quite literally taken apart others. Those hands held him down like iron brands, insistent only in bringing him pleasure where they tore others asunder.
He felt like some ancient sacrifice before a starving god. And that god would take its fill.
A frankly embarrassing noise climbed its way out of his throat and the attention on his dick paused. The Ripper slowly pulled off of him with a warm caress of his tongue, gently lapping at the head before releasing him entirely. He surged up, claiming Will’s mouth in another filthy kiss, swallowing down his pleasure and allowing him a sample of his own musk.
His lips were released and those large hands gripped him tightly, maneuvering him over so he was on his knees, kneeling on the bed and resting hard on his elbows. He gripped at the sheets tightly, his cock swung heavily between his legs as he felt the warm press of the other man settle behind him.
He could feel it. The Ripper had only undressed enough to release his cock from the confines of his dress pants. The press of the zipper against his ass cheek should not have been as hot as it was. He ground against him a few times, humming in satisfaction when Will matched his movements.
The warmth pulled away slightly and a finger trailed its way down his tail bone, dipping in and probing for its final destination. Will bent himself forward a little more, encouraging. Strong fingers pried one of his cheeks aside and Will could tell the man was having a thorough look at him. He buried his face in the sheets as if that would somehow hide him from the attention. The finger disappeared momentarily only to return, cold and wet and insistent at his entrance.
“Normally I would suggest taking my time in preparing you until you are entirely relaxed,” the Ripper sighed as he worked, pushing the digit in to the feel of Will fluttering around him. “But I find myself impatient to feel you elsewhere.”
“Hurry up then,” Will grumbled, tensing slightly when a second finger was introduced. They turned and spread and thrust with a single-minded purpose and Will was honestly grateful for the added pressure. He was getting impatient, too.
“Do you want another or are you too eager for me?” The Ripper asked, his voice low and gravely. It sent another shiver down Will’s spine and he knew the other man had his answer.
“I’m ready.”
Palms kneaded at his buttocks, clearly savoring the fullness of them before a hand pushed one aside and Will felt the blunt press of the Chesapeake Ripper’s cock on his entrance. There was a dull pressure, a slight resistance, and then finally the give and slide they were both aching for. Will groaned, urging his body open as it was breached. He savored the labored sigh of the man behind him as he settled deep within, the settling twitch of his hips giving away his eagerness.
He could hear the Ripper’s breathing. He could feel the press of his slacks on the back of his ass. He could smell the sweat and musk of arousal sitting heavy in the air, taste it sliding down the back of his throat. “Ah… Will…”
“Move,” Will gasped.
The Ripper, mercifully, complied. He leaned over Will’s back and began pumping his hips, one arm reaching under him to press against his lower belly. Will whined at the pressure, only mildly embarrassed at the noises being fucked out of him.
“I love hearing your pleasure Will,” the Ripper muttered, humming with pleasure as he moved inside him. “I can feel it, pulsing around my cock, but to hear it as well…” He groaned, hips flexing hard before pausing, pressing deep inside and holding there, feeling the quiver of Will’s belly. He licked a stripe up the back of Will’s neck, sampling the salt there. “Does it affect you, not knowing who I truly am?” He whispered, mouthing at his ear where it was flushed with pleasure. “That you could pass me on the street, not knowing it was I who was inside you?”
Will shuddered beneath him, pushing back on the Ripper’s cock until he convinced him to continue fucking into him. His own cock sat hot and neglected, crying a bead of pearlescence that gently stained the sheets below. A part of him wondered if he could come untouched from this alone. If the Ripper kept talking, he very well could.
“I am a stranger you let into your bed and body,” he continued, his thrusts becoming more firm and rocking Will forward with the press of them. “I am a man you have hunted and failed to capture.”
Will groaned at that, his body twitching almost out of his control. Fuck, he was close.
“But I caught you, Will Graham,” he groaned, fucking into him steadily as Will’s body clenched tight around him. His hands continued to press against his chest and stomach, demanding and possessive. “And I am loath to let you go.”
Will gasped, trying to ignore the sting of sweat around his eyes. Something deep and primal in him shuddered to hear such a claim on him. He was at the mercy of an apex predator and he never felt so secure.
“You are mine.”
A surge of pleasure rushed down his spine and Will was almost startled into his orgasm, shaking and clenching around the Ripper’s stiff cock as it continued its assault on him. His hips flexed harshly as if to take him in more and he was rewarded with a groan as the Ripper finished his claim, burying himself deep within with a rumbling sigh.
Will panted, gasping for air, his body shaking with the effort to stay up while he processed everything that just happened. His eyes were pulsing in time with his racing heart. He didn’t regret it. Couldn’t, really, even if he wanted to. The Ripper was right after all, it was easy to admit to himself that he got exactly what he wanted. It was less easy to admit that he knew he would want it again.
The man behind him sighed lightly, content, and pulled away with a soft kiss to the back of Will’s neck. There was a moment of silence, a rustle, and then the zing of a zipper. Large hands returned to him, easing his limbs down onto the sheets, flopping him onto the cleaner side of the bed. Will hummed, quietly delighted with the attention. He could feel sleep itching at the corners of his awareness.
Fingers brushed against his stubbled cheek, twisted their way through the sweaty hair curled around his ears. “I will court you properly, Will. I look forward to seeing you again, out there and just like this.”
“Don’t go…” Will muttered, accented French slipping out as he fought exhaustion. “Gotta catch you.”
“My darling,” the Ripper breathed, pressing one final, claiming kiss to his soft lips. “You already have.”
=x=x=x=