Chapter Text
An ice cube melted down in the glass on Jameson of the nightstand to let the one above it splash into the watery leftovers. The noise was faint, but it was just enough to interrupt the silence and allow conversation back in. “You don’t give things up easily, do you?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
One body slid over another, smaller against larger, and Levi tried to get a read on his eyes. It wasn’t the first time he’d tried.
“Bullshit. You’re a careful man, Erwin Smith.” Entirely convinced it was an assumed name, he let his tone say as much plainly. “Not that I mind the silence, but we do spend a lot of time in it.”
“I told you already, I like the silence for a change. My work… what I do… that’s not actually something I talk about.”
“You’ve told me enough.”
“Only two types of men are eager to talk about their work: insecure, and decent.”
“You’re suggesting that you’re neither?” It had been three months. They both knew it hadn’t been an accident. Everything that wasn’t said in flesh was said between the lines. Just in case. Everything, careful. Everything, deliberate. And yet sometimes when the contemplative silence stretched on long enough, and another hour ticked away, Levi knew things were understood.
“Take me somewhere,” he said bluntly, spreading his fingers on Erwin’s bare chest, still searching out a reaction.
“I’ll need some more detail on what you mean by that.”
Levi took a breath through his nose and shifted, tangling the sheets with him as he sat up and started to stretch. “I’m an escort,” he said it like it was breaking news. “I’m supposed to escort you places.”
“This—“
Quickly, he leaned in to put a hand over Erwin’s mouth. “And don’t you dare say this is a place.”
Though Levi’s actual strength belied his slight build, and it was easy to tell after spending three, four hours at a time in a bedroom with him, he still let Erwin pull him around as easily as he pleased. Because he knew Erwin knew. He landed halfway on his lap and leaned to flatten his back on the other man’s chest. “This is a place,” Erwin began, kissing Levi on the neck. Times like this, when they were so gentle with one another, Levi almost wanted to laugh because they both knew. “But I’ll tell you what. Why don’t you escort me to a function next Friday night.”
Levi didn’t like the sound of the word function. Function was a word that was tossed about when no decent word would do. But they were not decent men; that much had already been established. “Go on.”
With the date confirmed, and the place, written in Levi’s practiced shorthand on the back of a business card, the silence of knowing settled back in. “Work function?”
“Work function,” Erwin confirmed with a sigh.
Though instructed to keep the room for the night, Levi protested. Though told to relax and not feel obligated to put clothes on or even get out of bed, Levi walked him to the door of the suite regardless. “I told you, you don’t have to pay me anymore.” He hadn’t put clothes on, as a compromise, but the plush bathrobe that came with the place was too much to pass up.
“My turn to call bullshit.” Erwin reached into his wallet and fanned the bills first to make sure he was pulling out the hundreds. “You need to make money like anyone else, or you wouldn’t be in this business. I don’t care that you do claim to like me enough.”
Talking back wasn’t worth it. Levi nearly rolled his eyes, but he held out his hand nevertheless and curled his fingers around six hundred dollars. “Besides…” Erwin’s fingers lingered on his, and Levi relaxed what might have become a fist to feel it. Tilting his head, he looked up at those eyes that never told him anything, and was trying to pierce to the depths so ferociously that he almost didn’t pay attention to the words that told him everything. “You know you’re worth more.”
It was not the tone of voice a lover employed, not even one who paid for companionship. Around the money, their fingers slid together, and Levi squinted ever-so-slightly. For the first time in years, instinct did not tell him to glance quickly behind his back or even take a spatial inventory of his surroundings.
The goodbyes were terse; they always were.
As soon as he shut the door with a flip of his wrist, Levi walked into the bedroom. He was able to ignore the state they’d left the bed in, at least as long as his mind was preoccupied. A quick reach into the pocket of his suit blazer, and he pulled out a cell phone. He crossed his legs on the edge of the bed and clutched the robe tighter, just for the sake of his own appearance in the mirror.
The number was saved under his contacts as NORMA, and it was a bad joke if anyone ever dared to make the connection. Few knew about his propensity for bad jokes, though, so the cover seemed safe enough. It was also the only number in the phone. He dialed and held it in his lap; the silence of the room made one ring through the earpiece crystal clear before he hung up.
It took two minutes, and that was at least one and a half minutes too long.
“Are you fucking kidding me with that delay, I could have been killed by now,” he answered, on the phone that he kept in the back pocket of his pants. His real phone. The wait had made him antsy, and he knew he wouldn’t be sleeping. There was too much to be done. He had one sock on when the phone rang, underwear, and an unbuttoned Armani shirt.
“My fault, chief.”
He knew it wasn’t Petra’s fault, but placing blame was not something that she did.
“Write this down,” he went on without giving another thought to who dropped the ball, and grabbed the business card. He read from the back after giving her three seconds of prep time. “845 Utrecht.”
There was a pause. “That’s all?”
“That’s all.”
“Date, time, anything else?”
“Friday. That’s all I know, I’ll be present.”
Petra was vocally skeptical, and while she ranted Levi just lifted the card to his nose and smelled it. He caught the whiff of cologne and thought about blue eyes in spite of himself. “Petra,” he finally said, exhaling as he did. “Can you trust that I’ve thought about this more than you have?”
“You’re going into a fucking Titan den.”
“Duly noted.”
She waited a few seconds to respond. “You’re planning something, aren’t you? Chief?” She waited again, and when Levi didn’t acknowledge her she added, “We’re still killing them all, right?”
He knew it had been unwise to do business with a former colleague, but pickings had been slim for a coordinator he trusted. Petra knew him too well, which was something that came from familiarity rather than kismet. He hung up on her and blinked at the phone until the screen went black.
Freezing rain was drizzling when he walked outside, taking the key to the room with him just in case the space proved useful as the night went on. He reported back to the agency and fielded the usual dirty looks from the other whores that were too noble and delusional to call it what it was. In his black label suit and perfect white scarf, he may have only seemed like he didn’t belong there. But the rumors were founded in truth, a sadly reverent truth that circulated in whispers to confirm that he’d been in the racket for a long time. A professional. A favored man. Of course that was part of the long con. Guns for hire needed several covers. Levi was nothing if not multifarious, nothing else if not thorough.
He informed them that he’d be leaving town by Friday, to suspend any regular clientele from his services right away. Immediately he began to believe the story, because believing the story was the only way to make it work. Everyone would hear it from his barber to his downstairs neighbor. The motions were old, though. Disappearing was easy, even when he had no idea where he’d end up.
The most important client, though – the one who sometimes asked him through a vocoder on the phone what he’d learned, and other times through a second or third party in a restaurant or a bar – to that client it was business as usual.
Levi had a new phone the next day. The SIM card, top half, and bottom half of the one he’d talked to Petra on were scattered in different trash bins around the city by then.
The grout between the tiles in the shower was immaculate. Not that Levi was bored enough to look so carefully, but it was always the same high-rise, the same penthouse, the same shower. He had his inklings that money never changed hands for the room, and he had his inklings as to why, so he was relieved and impressed at the fact that the grout between the tiles in the shower was immaculate.
He liked it in the shower. They both did, really. It was an easy place to start, an easy place to wind up. Somewhere private, really, more private than the penthouse and more private than the bedroom within it. There were few places he ever felt completely serene, and remarkably the shower was one of them.
Deep, dull jolts rocked his body as he surged against the shower wall with every thrust, trying to hold himself steady, listening as skin slapped wet skin, listening as his own voice enveloped and gave birth to sounds he normally never made.
He came against the tile and its immaculate grout and Erwin came in his ass. In the drip-dry patience of the afterglow, he always allowed a bit of maudlin sentimentality. That night, however, Erwin just gave his ear a biting kiss and whispered: “You’ve killed someone.”
The silence Levi offered was nothing short of damning, not that he didn’t already figure that Erwin knew.
“Takes one to know one,” he whispered back.
“This is a gunshot wound on your back.” Like he needed to give further explanation, like he hadn’t been eyeing it since he first fucked Levi on his knees, like he hadn’t also seen the scars from stab wounds and worse. He didn’t refute Levi’s retort, though. “Someone shot you in the back.”
“Murderer is quite a leap to make from a bullet wound, though.” He thought about turning around, but didn’t. Erwin was still inside of him, and he liked that feeling.
“And your eyes. Your eyes say it all.”
And Erwin’s said nothing. Which was infinitely more terrifying.
The function was more lavish than Levi expected, considering the property at 845 Utrecht and the general state of decay and disrepair throughout. But, those who handled the function were experts at making the most of what they had at any given moment. It had been appointed thoughtfully with just the right amount of patchwork opulence, and just enough self-conscious restraint that it didn’t approach hubris.
Levi pretended to be wondering what was going to happen, but found it difficult to pretend to be shocked when the first guest was dragged to the center of the room to have her skin meticulously removed until and after she passed out screaming in pain.
In the right circles that knew the oral history of the great unwritten wars, they were known as the Titans. Sport killers who traded on the thrill of the human hunt, for no apparent reason other than to see the rest of the underground start running in circles and pissing itself. Word was, they didn’t desire the money. They didn’t desire the prestige or the fealty of other gangs. Decades ago they’d effectively taken up residence in every nest of criminal profit within several states, using no means other than pure, unmitigated terror. The fact that they were back… that’s what Levi had learned early into his latest job. The fact that they weren’t as organized as they seemed… that’s what had been more difficult to extract, especially when he started to read between the troubling, intoxicating lines of Erwin Smith.
Erwin Smith, who subtly tightened his hand on Levi’s neck, holding him close with a protective twitch while the next victim was dragged pleading to center ring. This one was beaten, kicked, and pummeled until literally broken. The music of flesh yielding to force and bones cracking and tissue rending wasn’t something Levi particularly liked, but it was music he knew. He looked up at Erwin, who glanced back at him immediately.
If things worked out the way they were meant to, a disappearing act was the least of his responsibilities. But even if they didn’t, he’d have a contingency in getting the satisfaction of killing at least four motherfuckers in the room. Whether Erwin was to be included, he didn’t know. They would save him for last. That had been one of many compromises with Petra, with the whole team.
Levi reached up and tugged at his earlobe.
To his credit, Erwin remained quiet as all hell broke loose. He sat back and let his arm slide away as Levi stood up. Calmly, he crossed one leg at the knee and let it happen.
Levi didn’t like handguns. They felt like playthings and didn’t require the skill he valued in his work. Aiming with a pistol was no real challenge for him; not that pistols weren’t useful, but it had taken a significant argument with Petra to convince her to have the team bring his shotgun, and he intended to show off. Erd, the ex-Marine with a dishonorable discharge under his belt whom Levi had lured away from his illicit bodyguard job, was the one who came in brandishing the case by a strap over his shoulder. He was also toting the .38 that Levi tucked into his waistband. For cleanup. After all, pistols were useful. They just failed on the elegance test.
Even while he checked the weapon quickly and carefully, seemingly lost in his focus, Levi noted the bodies as they began to drop in the cacophony of hollering and shooting and death rattles all around. The poor bastards who’d been brought in as entertainment couldn’t be spared, sadly; not for all the gravity of the events unfolding. But Levi had stressed that their deaths be particularly swift. They’d have begged for such mercy, where they were headed.
Thud. Thump. Crash. The team was working well. Two of the Titans down, another in Auruo’s hands, and he wasn’t about to be quick with his work. He was a veteran; told Levi he’d been in the hole for twenty years. He’d been a shakedown man, a thug. Thugs didn’t know how to get things over and done with cleanly and efficiently, not that Levi cared. They had some time.
Levi stroked the well-handled butt of the shotgun as his eyes swept the room. He pushed in the release. With a swift, throaty rattle the pump slid back in his hand, claiming everyone’s attention for at least a split-second. He tilted his head severely until the tightness in his neck released with an unsettling crack.
He liked slugs for most jobs, but had loaded up with buckshot for the occasion. That they felt it was key, that they wallowed in the sudden realization that even if they made it to a hospital it would be excruciating pain to even handle the wound, and that they realized all of that futility before they begged for one more breath… that was key. He kicked the first sonofabitch who came toward him, aiming from the corner of his eye and grounding him easily before he put the barrel to his neck and pulled the trigger. It would take some time for him to bleed out, just like the girl who’d been flayed alive, so Levi put a .38 round into his kneecap to keep him from getting far as his body struggled in the death throes.
Looks and cues passed silently amongst those standings. Most had been strangers only weeks before, when Levi began to strategize and brainstorm the whole operation. They worked well together because they didn’t feel the need to burden things with talking. What they knew about each other was only necessary to understand style and tactics. Even with that, Levi doubted he even had real names from any of them.
There were only eight Titans in the room that night, altogether. Levi shot one in the small of the back and ground his heel into the buckshot wound as the man screamed bloody murder. He gave Petra the assist, knowing she’d be particularly happy to slit at least one throat that evening. On his third kill, though, he went for glory, and got the barrel between teeth before he blasted through soft tissue and brain and the intricate web of blood vessels, regretting only that some of the blowback wound up on his shirt, while viscera soaked into his pants cuff.
Petra killed one, not counting her assist. Auruo, ever dedicated, took his time on his single target. Gunter dispatched with the victims-in-waiting, but it was in everyone’s best interests since he was probably the only one amongst them skilled at not being showy about it. Erd, commensurate with his reputation, killed two. Levi shot the sobbing, deathbed repentant in the brain and pulled ahead of the pack with three dispatched, though no one was surprised. It was all over within five minutes. His only regret was wearing the Magli wingtips. The blood had absolutely ruined them already.
There was a ninth.
Almost every sight in the room focused on Erwin as he surveyed the scene. After several moments Levi realized he was scouting for survivors. It was slightly insulting, but then his eyes lifted from Erd’s second kill, the one shot right through the chest, and met Levi’s meaningfully. Maybe the bastard had been spared by the slightest of degrees, because Erd was nothing if not exacting. Even though Levi doubted he would be able to muster up the strength to get the jump on them, he pulled the .38 from his pants quickly and emptied another precious round into the body that only Erwin had apparently noticed twitching.
Three kills. One assist.
Erwin nodded, his expression not wavering as he stood up, slowly kicking aside a limp body to clear the path between himself and Levi.
There were no words at first; he just stepped forward and extended a hand.
Levi wasn’t one for empty gestures of goodwill, and he knew Erwin wasn’t either. Without another move, he flipped the weight of the shotgun on his shoulder until it leveled with the other man’s chest. Consciously, Erwin took another step forward, letting the barrel press firmly against him.
Erwin wasn’t one for empty gestures of intimidation. So Levi righted his stance, took the gun in both hands, and slowly racked the pump to prove he wasn’t simply playing gangster.
“You killed the boss,” Erwin informed him. The other three guns trained on him didn’t seem to register; he was only concerned with Levi in that moment.
“I don’t know that I can believe that.”
“You don’t have to. That’s the beauty of it.”
It was everything about their short, fucked-up history together distilled into surprisingly few words.
“Your group is talented,” Erwin went on when Levi did not.
“I choose people well.”
“You’ll part ways after this?”
“Tout suite. As soon as I divvy the cash.”
“You were hired to take out a Titan den? I find that hard to believe.”
“No. This was something I did on my own. This is catharsis. I was hired for intel.” A pause. “It’s not worth it to ask who hired me.”
Erwin laughed softly and the shotgun wavered with the movement. “Is it?”
He thought about it, and considered it, rolled it over in his hands and looked at it from every conceivable angle. Levi tried to suppress the feeling of humiliation, the sinking sensation of having been played, until he realized that he didn’t have to. The sensation of having been played so completely and so artfully was actually exhilarating. It was almost erotic, to someone who rarely had the chance to feel it. “Why this, then? What do you want?”
The eyes said it all. Levi lifted one hand from the butt of the gun and waved the rest of the team off. He still returned to the shotgun, despite it. He’d be the one to pull the trigger if it came down to not getting paid. The fall had been his to take from the beginning. “Oh, everything.”
Being subordinate was something Levi had never agreed with. The feeling usually carved deep grooves of bitterness inside of him that laid paths for machination. Because he was better, he was smarter, he was always the more capable one. Even the most temporary jobs were temporary because of it, and he was finally in a place that meant he was keeper of his own destiny. He’d planned to maintain communication with Petra and scuttle into another hole until the next opportunity presented itself. The dividends from the current job would have funded him for months. Until he realized what the dividends truly were.
“Let any of them go that ask. Pay them accordingly from what you would have given me.” Levi was quiet about it, but firm.
Erwin glanced quickly around the room. Maybe he was doing calculations; how many bodies were worth how many thousand dollars, after all? He raised his voice and his eyes returned to Levi’s. “Anyone who wants to stay has a month to decide otherwise. The original terms are still good, for that long. It’s going to be difficult. But I promise you it will never be boring, and it will never be less than worth your while.”
Being subordinate was something Levi had never agreed with, until that night.