❥ KNOX'S POV

Knox chuckles against the wall as he watches Everett do the opposite of what he had taught him.

The boy is standing in front of the punching bag that hangs from the ceiling almost like he fears it. He's throwing light jabs that would, at most, tickle his opponent. The two have been working on self-defense techniques for an hour, Knox having had to demonstrate and repeat himself multiple times for Everett and his new short attention span. 

Everett's endurance is shit and needs a major upgrade, among other things, considering he broke out in a sweat barely twenty minutes into today's session. His breathing now comes in short pants, his wild curls have since lost their volume and are currently pushed back with a headband. His white T-shirt clings to his lean body from both sides, soaked with sweat.

Admittedly, he's more cute than threatening.

"I told you to move around, not remain stationary," Knox calls out. "In the real world, your attacker won't just stand there and let you kick his ass. You have to—"

"Fuck off! I get your thick ass is built for this shit, but I'm not," Everett huffs. "This is exhausting. I'm ready to be done."

Knox sighs. "We've barely begun—"

"I think an hour is good enough to start with," Everett continues, though his punches gradually falter. "For Christ's sake, I'm not trying out for the army! I'm just a beginner, remember?"

"A beginner who's extremely fragile and weak," Knox adds, his tone soft. "I'm trying to help you become strong. Don't you want to be able to protect yourself when danger strikes?"

"Being strong is overrated. How about that?"

Everett stops and takes a minute to center himself by resting against the massive punching bag, every single muscle group screaming for him to run and never look back. He'd try if he knew he'd be able to get past Knox and reach the door.

"Please." He whines, still struggling to catch his breath. "I think my legs are about to give out and my lungs are on fire. This is torture! When can we quit?"

"When I see you've made actual progress." Knox approaches Everett like a lion stalking its prey, his movements slow and calculated. "First problem—you've been standing too close to the damn bag, and you're hitting it like you're apologetic about it."

Everett doesn't turn around when Knox stops behind him. But he does gasp at the feeling of warm breath hitting the back of his neck, Knox's body heat slowly tangling with his. Large hands grip his waist as Knox helps to position him properly, and it takes a fucking miracle for both to remain professional about their close proximity.

"Now, when you hit the bag and it swings back at you, it's going to force you to move out of the way or get hit." Knox shifts Everett's body from left to right. He doesn't miss, or comment, on the flush that travels up the back of Everett's neck. "Pretend you're dodging someone's fist. Pretend the fucker just disrespected you in front of your friends. Hell, pretend it's Finn, since you hate him so much. Show me how you're going to handle him."

"Like this." Everett zeroes in on the bag after Knox steps away, swiftly unleashing hell while throwing kicks and punches that produce a much harder sound than the ones he did before. Knox shouts encouraging words, adding fuel to Everett's fire until the boy eventually drops to the ground, officially tapping out. "Well? Did I kick his ass or what?"

Knox laughs, giving Everett a short round of applause. "Yeah. That was a lot better than that other shit you were doing."

"Fuck you. I tried my best," Everett chuckles. He accepts the cold bottle of water that Knox passes him, gulping it down quickly. "Guns are still a No, but I think I can handle a small knife or something. You got one of those lying around?"

"I have plenty. I'll get you one later." Knox holds out a hand as if to help Everett up from the ground, but instead of doing so, he takes Everett off guard by pinning him down on the mat. "Don't panic," Knox speaks in a low tone, his face expressionless and body controlled as Everett bucks against him. "Remember what I taught you."

"I'm trying! Ugh. This would be way less difficult if..." Everett pauses, briefly glancing at Knox's mouth, then at his shirtless torso, and back up to his mouth again. "If you weren't you."

Knox rolls his eyes, smirking a little while tightening his grip on Everett's wrists. "Get your mind out of the fucking gutter, kitten. Your life is at stake here. Act like it."

"Ahh! I'm so scared I'm shaking," Everett teases, trying not to laugh. "Someone, anyone, help me!"

"Everett," Knox deadpans. "Cut the shit and be for real."

"Okay, okay..." Everett shuts down his chaotic alter ego long enough to forcefully lift his hips off the ground and push Knox forward to fall. He works his legs and arms exactly how Knox had taught him as he twists himself using his remaining strength until he's straddling Knox, one hand lightly gripping his throat. "Now, see, if I had a knife on me..." Everett places a fist to the side of Knox's neck, grinning victoriously. "Your ass would be a dead panda."  

"So you were paying attention to me earlier?" Knox grins, resting his large hands on top of Everett's exposed thighs and squeezing. "Good boy."

Everett's entire body shudders, and he breaks eye contact. "Don't call me that."

"Why not?" Knox's face no longer matches his playful tone as he arches a brow, feigning curiosity. He looks dangerous and sexy at the same time. "You don't want to be my good boy, Everett? My pretty boy, my special boy, my sweet little kitten..."

"You're a damn mess, you know that?" Everett interrupts, flustered, as he rests his hands on Knox's hard abs. His skin is hot to the touch, body utterly mouthwatering. The man is a walking temptation. So much surrounds him that Everett is surprised he hasn't drowned in it yet. "I'm literally covered in sweat and probably look like a wet dog. How are you like this right now?"

"Like what?" Knox questions, coyly.

"You know..." Everett whispers, blushing. "Still attracted to me."

"Kitten." Knox gives Everett's thighs another squeeze, harder this time, as he rasps, "You severely underestimate just how badly you do it for me."

The words leave his mouth faster than a cheetah chasing after its dinner. Confusion twists at Knox's insides as he frantically begins questioning himself, wondering when and how he became so... sappy?

He turns into a completely different person around Everett. There's no more denying it. It shows in the way he carries himself, how he speaks, and how his damn body reacts. He can't remember ever feeling this way towards another human being. Feeling such a spiritual pull that, sometimes, he swears he can sense the darkness fading from his black soul.

But Everett isn't up for grabs like that. He's a job. Someone to be kept alive until this shit show ends with The Jackals. Knox may have claimed him, but deep down inside, he knows he can't have the boy. Not in the ways his body desires. They can never be more than what they are now. Roommates.

They're just too different. Their lives are the polar opposite of each other. Anything beyond a friendship could never work.

"Oh. I-I..." Everett stammers. The blush on his face only adds to the guilt that Knox is choking on.

They shouldn't be doing this. They shouldn't be touching like this. It's sending the wrong message.

Or at least that's what Knox tries to convince himself to believe.

"Get off me," Knox orders, slowly withdrawing his hands. "Now."

Everett blinks, confused by the hardened look on Knox's face, a beautiful dark storm brewing in his grey eyes. "Why? W-what did I do..."

"This," Knox growls. It's a deep, guttural sound that can't decide if it wants to be one of pleasure or pain. "This is what you do to me." He shifts his hips so Everett can better feel the source of his frustration. "This is how you make me feel. All the fucking time."

"Oh, God. I..." Everett looks down at where his body rests against Knox. He exhales a shuddering breath upon realizing he's sitting on a raging semi. "I..." He gulps. "I'm sorry your dick likes me?"

"Always the fucking jokester." Knox softens at the unnecessary apology, taking some of the edge out of his voice as they scramble apart.

It's not Everett's fault that Knox's cock has a mind of its own. Or that it hasn't gotten any action in weeks.

"Maybe we should tone down all the flirting until we get better control of our bodies? Since they obviously like each other," Everett laughs. "Like, a lot."

"Maybe," Knox mutters, despite the thought of no longer touching Everett and killing all playful banter with him being just enough to destroy him from the inside out.

Fuck. It hits him then.

Could this be what it feels like to have a crush on someone?

That loud, nagging feeling when you want to get to know a person so badly you're willing to change yourself if it means getting closer to them. That feeling of wanting to learn every minuscule detail about their past and present. That feeling when they're the first thing on your mind when you wake up, and the last thing you think about before going to sleep.

Knox is a lot of things, most of them far from good, but a simp to a spitfire twink like Everett?

No fucking way he can ever become that.

Knox Hansley doesn't have crushes. He doesn't do relationships. He doesn't do love. Period. He opts for living a simple life that consists of him fucking when he gets in the mood, and minding his business otherwise. He knows better than to entertain the delusional dream of a booty call he knows holds no spot in his future. 

Love, or at least in the name of it, turned his father into an abusive drunk who died too soon. Love fooled his gentle mother and destroyed her bright spirit. Love is nothing but heartache and pain.

So much pain.

Knox has had enough of that in this lifetime. He's determined not to suffer the same fate as his parents. It's why he always says to hell with love—

Fuck it along with everything leading up to it. I don't need it. I don't want it. I can't have it. Not with... Knox comes crashing back down to earth when Everett touches his arm and calls his name.

"Are you okay?" he asks.

"I'm fine." Knox shuts his emotions off and stands to leave the gym. He doesn't wait to see if Everett follows after him.

The walk back to his bedroom is a quiet one.

Knox is tense for multiple reasons he's afraid to acknowledge, his stomach bustling with what feels like hot coal instead of butterflies. He rolls his eyes while recalling the deal he'd made with Everett, promising to show him the one place where his demons can't reach him. But now... now he's thinking that might actually be a terrible idea.

He's right. We should cool shit down for a while. We're getting too close, too fucking personal. I'm supposed to be protecting him. I can't sleep with him. What the fuck is wrong with me? Knox's mind races a mile per minute, regret and anxiety building in his chest as he stomps his way down the hall.

He freezes on the spot when Everett forcefully grabs his hand.

"Will you turn around and look at me?" Everett whispers, sounding nervous. "Please?"

Knox folds immediately. He turns around and pulls Everett closer. "You haven't done anything wrong."

"Then why does it feel like you're pissed at me?" Everett asks. "Whatever I did, whatever I said, I'm sorry. Please don't be upset with me—"

"It's not you, kitten. It's me," Knox lamely confesses. "I brought you here to protect you, to keep you safe. Not to try and get you into my bed. My reaction back at the gym, all the teasing, I took it too far. Again. I'm sorry."

"Wait. Is this about..." Everett's eyes drop to Knox's shorts for a split second. "Oh. I see."

"I want you, Everett. So fucking badly." Knox squeezes his hand before letting it go and stepping back, putting space between them. "But I can't have you. We shouldn't... I can't..." Knox curses under his breath, shaking his head. "I think it'll be best if you stay in your own room from now on."

"What? No!" Everett swiftly objects, stepping back into Knox's bubble and grabbing both of his hands. "Do you think I'm turned off by what happened earlier? You think I'm suddenly uncomfortable being around you alone now? Because I'm not. I swear to God I'm not. That comment I made about us flirting, I was only joking! Is it not obvious that I want you as badly as you want me?"

"Stop," Knox commands, looking more pained than relieved. "The point is that you shouldn't."

"Okay, but that's my decision to make, not yours." Everett runs his steady hands up Knox's arms, settling on his large biceps. They stare into each other's eyes, both fighting for dominance. "Whatever happens, happens. Stop trying to prevent that by pushing me away. You aren't God, Knox. You don't know what's good or bad for me."

"Everett..." Knox starts.

"No, I mean it. You know I have no problem telling you to fuck off when I'm not in the mood for your bullshit." They share a laugh, finally breaking the tension. "And you have the right to do the same."

"I don't understand you sometimes. Why are you so fucking sweet with me, huh?" Knox pulls Everett flush against him, one hand resting on the small of his back and the other at the nape of his neck. "I told you about my past. You know I have blood on my hands, way too many skeletons in my fucking closet. I'm a monster, but you insist on getting closer to me when what you should be doing is running away."

"You don't know me well enough yet, but I tend to make a lot of reckless decisions. Makes life more exciting," Everett whispers, licking his lips. "Plus, I'd rather have a monster over Prince Charming."

Knox groans at that, lowering his head to where their foreheads touch. "Why?"

"Because..." Everett breathes, sucking in the sweet air that Knox exhales. "Prince Charming could never make me feel the way that you do."

"Everett."

"Yes?"

"I'm going to kiss you now."