Chapter 5

There was a method to most types of madness; it was just the pattern typically alluded people. Berga was a pro at seeking out those threads, following them to the root of the problem so he could better understand what he was dealing with.

His own threads were chaotic, just like his friends in the Satellite accused him of being, mostly because they didn’t know any better. Though he liked to take people apart from the inside out, Berga’s resting state of being was actually calm—perhaps it was more akin to the calm before the storm, but it was calm nonetheless.

He did not feel that way now, however. Hadn’t been able to achieve that usual level of internal stillness since leaving the Mad King in his lab the other day.

And it was pissing him off.

This wasn’t at all what he’d intended when he’d first drugged Madden. It should have been quick, a passing moment they both either forgot about or let go. Nothing lasting. Nothing this… distracting .

Not even the whimpers and screams from the other room were helping to ease the bubbling sensation within him.

“Should they be making that much noise?” Yuze, the only other person in the room with him, asked. He’d been busy using the tip of a sharp blade to clean underneath his nails, but now he scowled at the locked door that separated them from the prisoners.

Test subjects, Berga preferred to call them.

There were only three at the moment, and one of them wasn’t even from this planet. He’d messed with one of their trade routes and been brought in for questioning. That’s who Yuze was here for, asking if Berga had successfully gotten him to answer any of their questions in the twelve hours since he’d been dropped off.

They were in the Bunker, the secret building that acted as both a holding cell, laboratory, and training ground for the Brumal. Berga’s domain was buried deep, the second to last layer, and required a keycode and a hand scan in the elevator to get to. Even if one of his prisoners managed to escape their cell—which had never happened before—they wouldn’t make it very far.

“Probably not,” Berga replied, running a hand through his hair. When he felt the goggles on his head, he clicked his tongue and pulled them off, tossing them onto his desk. The computer monitor showed his latest work, a DNA strand for Vitals twisting on the screen, and there were papers strewn about, making it nearly impossible to find anything.

The clutter was also unlike him. He was usually meticulous.

This was getting cumbersome.

“Shouldn’t you, like,” Yuze pointed to the door with the weapon, “check on them?”

“Probably.” He made no moves to do so.

Yuze sighed. “Got anything for me or not, Butcher? The sound is starting to grate my last nerve.”

“Here.” Berga shoved things around until he found the thin tablet he was after, holding it out to Yuze, who was forced to give up his perch on the table across the room and come over to take it. “That’s everything I was able to get out of him. If I continue, he won’t last the night.”

“We sure he’ll last it now? That sounds—” A particularly bloodcurdling scream echoed through the closed door just then, and Yuze lifted a brow pointedly. “Yeah. What he said.”

Heaving an annoyed sigh, Berga headed toward the door, grabbing a small canister on his way. He keyed in the code and yanked the metal open, then popped the top on the canister and tossed it inside. Once they were sealed off once more, he returned to his station.

“What did you just do?” Yuze asked.

“Sleeping gas.”

“…What if they die in their sleep?”

“I’m testing Impression on two of them,” Berga reassured. “They won’t die from a boner. Your suspect currently has wraiths swimming through his bloodstream, hence the screaming. It’s painful but not life-threatening, either. He just feels like he’s dying, that’s all.”

“Oh, is that all?” Yuze snorted and then flicked through the pages of notes on the tablet. “Thanks, looks like you were able to get a full confession and a list of his accomplices.”

“You’ll have to double-check. People are willing to say anything to make the pain stop.”

“Will do. Now that that’s out of the way.” Yuze crossed his arms. “You good, Butch? You’re looking a little out of it? Anything I can help you with?”

Berga started to shake his head but then paused. “Are you a top or a bottom?”

Yuze blinked at him, clearly caught off guard. “Okay, admittedly not where I thought this conversation was going. Um, typically a top? ”

“Have you ever bottomed for anyone?”

“Once or twice.” He ran a hand through his platinum hair. “Why? If this is a proposition—”

“No.”

He chuckled. “You could have at least pretended to consider it for a minute.”

“Why?” Berga tipped his head. “You aren’t my type.”

“Do you even have a type?”

“Yes. Small, cute guys. Or red hair.”

“You like redheads?”

“No.”

It took Yuze a moment to catch on, but once he had, some of his mirth drained from his eyes. “You mean Vital red. Like shades of crimson or burgundy or maroon. That’s pretty specific. How many small, cute guys have you found with that exact hair? I can only think of one, and he isn’t small at all. Cute, but definitely not an adorable twink by any standard of the definition.”

“I’ve found enough.” Or, so he’d thought. If that’d been true, though, surely Berga would have fucked this want out of his system long ago. Maybe then the night at the Docks would never have happened in the first place. “You didn’t find yourself…unsatisfied after bottoming for the first time?”

Yuze pursed his lips. “Not really. Sex is sex. As long as I’m being stimulated, I don’t really have a preference.”

“But you said you usually top. ”

“Yeah, because the guys I sleep with tend to prefer to bottom. Also, I like to be in charge. But I don’t always have to be.”

“Can’t you be in control if you’re on bottom?”

“Power bottom?” Yuze shrugged. “Sure. I know a few. They’re a good time in their own right.”

Berga’s eyes narrowed. “How many people exactly have you slept with?”

He laughed. “More than most. Certainly more than you. What’s up? Did you fuck someone recently in a way that was out of your comfort zone?”

“You could say that.”

“So, what are you confused about specifically? Give it to me plainly and maybe I can help.”

What was he confused about? There were too many things to express, and he wasn’t sure he’d be able to with words alone. He couldn’t expose everything to Yuze, even if the two of them were friends. Madden hadn’t been wrong when he’d said there’d be consequence if it got out that Berga had slipped him an aphrodisiac.

“I suppose I’m unsure which I prefer all of a sudden,” Berga ended up saying tentatively. He tapped his chin. “Yes, that’s most likely the crux of it. I enjoyed sex with this person a lot, but it’s unclear if that was due to the change in my usual position or because of them specifically.”

“Why don’t you test it out?” Yuze suggested.

Berga shook his head. “I won’t sleep with him again.”

“That’s not what I meant. I mean, what’s it like when you touch yourself now?”

“What?” He frowned. “Are you asking me to masturbate?”

“Have you…not done so since fucking this person?” Yuze appeared as though he was judging him. For that, of all things. “Wow. I can’t go a day without reaching at least one climax. Takes the edge off. No wonder you look so out of it. Give it a try, Butcher, trust me. Play with yourself a little and—Whoa!” He flung his arms up and hid his face behind the tablet when Berga started to undo his belt. “I didn’t mean in front of me! Wait till I leave at least, damn!”

“What am I looking for?” Berga ignored him, slipped the belt loose, and then went for his zipper.

“You really are dangerous.” He peeked over the top of the device, gaze brightening some when he dropped it to Berga’s bare legs as he removed his pants. “You sure about that thing you said earlier? Maybe I can be your type.”

“You don’t want to fuck me,” Berga drawled.

“I don’t know, I’m feeling like right now maybe I do.”

“Get out, Yuze.”

“Fine.” He took a step toward the exit and then turned back. “Try and picture having sex, you know, like imagine it. Don’t force it though, just allow your mind to conjure whatever fantasy it pleases.”

“That’s not safe for someone like me,” Berga warned. Typically, he tried to avoid allowing his mind to conjure anything at all, let alone whatever it wanted. He braced himself, but nothing odd happened despite his thinking about his condition. There was only Yuze and him in the room. No one else. A good sign. “All right. I’ll give it an attempt.”

“Good luck!” He gave him a thumbs up and then left, shutting the door with a click behind him.

Berga hooked his thumbs in his boxers and then paused. Perhaps he shouldn’t be doing this out in the open, in the middle of his lab. His feet were still covered in plastic, and he was wearing gloves, but the idea of having to clean up any sort of messes like the one he’d made at school the other day…

The one that had miraculously not been there when Berga had come in the next morning.

Had Madden cleaned up for him before leaving?

That was…thoughtful.

“Shower.” That was it. He’d go to the bathroom to conduct this evaluation.

His lab at the Bunker was far more sophisticated and equipped than the one assigned to him at Vail University. Instead of the small shower tucked into the corner, there was an entire en suite attachment, so Berga could easily spend the night or catch some sleep during the day if needed. The bathroom had both a shower stall and a tub, and while he usually used the stall because it was quicker, he found himself hesitating in front of the wooden tub.

It was rectangular, with two steps leading up to the lip. Large enough to fit two grown men; he recalled Flix joking when Berga had chosen that particular model. It was about whether Berga wanted to use it to relax or merely wanted more storage space for the bodies.

He’d never once put a body in here.

That would be disgusting.

Berga hit the buttons on the remote attached to the side of the wall, setting it for hotter than most people would prefer, and then listened as water began to flood from the faucet. He removed the rest of his clothing, setting it off to the side as he gave what he was about to do one last consideration.

Was he really going to listen to Yuze?

It couldn’t hurt.

Maybe he was right about the need to climax, if nothing else. Perhaps that’s all this feeling really was. Berga was backed up since it’d been a couple of days.

He rolled his eyes at himself as he moved to enter the tub, carefully lowering himself into the heated water with a sigh. If nothing else, this was going to help with his achy muscles. He hadn’t been sleeping well either, plagued by dreams of the Mad King, sometimes fucking him, other times laughing at him. It was the latter type that made Berga wake with a knot in his throat, gasping for breath with unshed tears in his eyes.

As if it should matter to him what Madden thought about his person.

It shouldn’t.

There was nothing binding between them, no reason for Berga’s subconscious to treat him as someone special or important.

He settled in the tub, laying back to rest his head against the wall as his hands roamed across his chest in an attempt to prepare himself. The water automatically stopped once it was full, the low echoes of his movements cutting through it the only sounds in the heated room. Recalling the way Madden had tweaked his nipples, he gave it a try, disappointed when it didn’t do much for him.

Berga pinched the rosy bud and twisted, letting out a gasp as his hips jerked at the first sting of pain. His dick twitched between his thighs, and he let his eyes slowly shut, giving into his imagination as he continued to pinch and pull at his nipples.

Madden had used his teeth. Teeth would be so much better, that stabbing pain, the quick burn that faded into pleasure…Too bad Berga couldn’t bite himself.

One of his hands trailed lower, dancing across his abdominals until he felt the root of his dick. Wrapping his fingers around himself, he gave a single pump. It felt nice, but again, nothing like how when the Mad King had touched him here.

His own hand had always been good enough, and stubbornly, Berga found himself determined to prove that hadn’t changed. He kneaded his crown until sticky fluid leaked from his tip, fondling his chest all the while. Then he picked up the pace, stroking himself with fast, tight motions that had water threatening to slosh over the rim of the tub .

His balls drew up and he felt that spot in his lower stomach tighten, but it wasn’t enough. As soon as he got close to orgasm, the pleasure fizzled. He remained hard, but couldn’t seem to reach that peak.

He’d never needed penetration before. This had always done the trick, just a quick handjob to reach completion. He’d never had to fantasize to get off, so why…

Berga pictured Madden’s hand on him instead, thought of the way the Mad King would grin arrogantly at him as he made him moan. He’d refuse to let Berga’s cock go until he came for him, that was a certainty. Then, he’d reach lower and—

With a growl of frustration, Berga moved onto his knees, bracing his upper body over the edge of the tub. His right hand continued to pump, but his left wandered back, seeking that place between his cheeks. The second his pointer finger prodded against his hole, he hissed, a spike of ecstasy washing over him, spurring him to further things.

His finger worked past that tight ring, corkscrewing in and pressing in as deep as he could get it in his twisted position.

It wasn’t enough.

Not nearly.

He made a whimpering sound as his bitterness grew and thrust in a second finger. The stretch was amazing, but it still lacked the depth he needed. When he tapped against his prostate, he went wild, rocking back into his hand, the other fisting his dick.

It still wasn’t enough.

He needed more.

He needed—

Desperately, Berga pulled out only so he could search the bathroom for something to use. Literally anything that could touch those hidden places deep inside of him. There was nothing, however. He didn’t keep much here, just shampoo and—hairbrush.

He clambered out, uncaring about the water he dripped all over the place, and snatched the brush from its place in the holder next to the sink. His body was practically screaming for release now, and he only managed to fling one leg over the edge of the tub before he succumbed to the craving.

The handle of the brush was only a little wider than two of his fingers had been, and he wished for the burn of being stretched past his limits. This would have to do though, he couldn’t waste time searching for something bigger, not when he was this desperate.

Berga shoved the entire handle into himself, moaning as he removed his hand and ground down against it, using the flat top of the bathtub ledge to push the brush as far in as it could go. He quickly started thrusting into his other palm, his cries of pleasure echoing against the cement walls of the room.

If Madden were here, he’d force him down and fuck him brutally, unapologetically even. He might laugh and breathe against the curve of Berga’s ear and tell him how pretty he looked bent over for him.

Tell him he’d only look better if he was also wearing the Mad King’s come.

Finally, the orgasm crashed over Berga, cock spurting out over the wooden finish as his ass clenched around the brush handle. He rode the waves, unwilling to stop until he was completely spent and his body started to reject the intrusion.

Pulling the brush free, he tossed it into the trash can and then dropped back into the bath, splashing water all over the place as he attempted to catch his breath. Everything was buzzing, his skin, his heart, his head. It was pure bliss, momentarily clearing his mind.

Until it didn’t.

His gaze wandered to the silver trash bin and he grimaced. Had he really just fucked an object ? Not only that, but he’d actually needed it to achieve completion.

Good Light.

He was in trouble.

“I can’t do this.” He couldn’t risk it, was more like. Couldn’t allow himself to become a needy, wanting thing. The test may have been conclusive, but he was far from satisfied with the results.

Liking to bottom was one thing.

Needing Madden to top him was another.

This experiment, which was meant to have ended that night at the Docks, had gone on far too long, and there was only one solution to his problem he could see.

Berga was going to have to abstain. Until thoughts of Madden Odell no longer plagued his every waking thought, he couldn’t have sex, even with on his own hand. Then, things could go back to normal. Maybe he’d still crave anal sex, maybe not. Either way, he could find someone more suitable for the job if it came down to that. Later. Once this strange, forming attachment had been shredded and done away with.

Avoiding the Mad King would be easy enough. But his own mind…

His mind had been a traitor for as long as he could remember.

He just prayed this time wouldn’t be the case.