Something between a sob and a gasp wracked him and he stood, turning into Taemin, who had been hovering just behind him. He didn't balk as Con buried his face against his neck. There was nothing to be done. He didn't dare touch her, lest the images of her shattered skull haunt him for the rest of his life.

He already had enough images like that scarred across his mind.

"At least get out of the rain," Taemin murmured, guiding him away from the body and under the eaves of the porch. Even as he said it, the rain began to ease toward a light drizzle.

Taemin forced him to sit on the steps before joining him there. Con huddled against him, trying to soak up a little warmth. To avoid looking at Mrs. Marino's body, he pulled at a chain around Taemin's neck.

A pendant shaped like a sleeping fox appeared. Taemin looked down, falling still as Con brushed his thumb across the silver. The fox was curled around a shimmering white stone Con couldn't identify.

It was beautiful, the metal warm from Taemin's skin. Con traced the delicately carved lines over and over, his thumb sliding over the polished stone. Taemin sighed, shivering a little. Neither spoke until the sound of a siren wailed in the distance. 

"You can go inside," Taemin whispered. "I can deal with them."

Con looked at the other man. Taemin's silvery hair had been turned grey by the rain. His eyes were glued to the body just feet from them, and his hands were fists in his lap as he stared at the blood pooling around her head.

"No," he said, tugging at Taemin's collar and tucking the pendant back beneath his shirt. "I'll stay. It seems fair, considering you dealt with the last body alone."

A laugh huffed from Taemin, who immediately clapped a hand to his mouth. He shook his head. "I'm sorry. That's not funny. I didn't—"

"I know," Con cut him off, watching as the red and blue lights drew nearer. "But it's still fair."

Taemin just nodded, ducking his head in a vain attempt to hide a small smile. Con sighed, bracing himself for yet another round with the local law enforcement. Both men stood at the same time as the police car drew to a stop, an ambulance just behind it.

"Did I leave those scratches on your face?" Taemin asked from the corner of his mouth.

Con gave him a sideways glance and realized he was completely serious. He would lie to the police again if Con asked him to. Quickly, he shook his head. "Her husband saw."

"Wait..." Taemin blanched, turning to Con as one of the officers stepped from their car. "She did that?"

Con barely had time to give a short nod before the EMTs were rushing up, the two officers just behind them. To Con's chagrin, he recognized Officer Morris. He could see as her eyes narrowed, darting between him and Taemin. Her attention was diverted for a few moments as one of the EMTs stood, shaking his head grimly.

"Mark," she called over her shoulder, "you better call the sheriff. And get the forensics team out here again."

"They're gonna love that call," Mark shouted, jogging back toward the cruiser.

Con tried not to tense as Morris narrowed her eyes and approached him.

It was Taemin who spoke first. "I didn't realize you had to call forensics for a suicide now."

The officer slowed a bit, her brow wrinkling in confusion. Then she shook her head and continued forward until she was standing on the porch. Her eyes swept up and down, taking in their bedraggled appearance. They were both soaking wet, with mud on the knees of their jeans. Con resisted the urge to turn his head so she couldn't see the new scratches on his face.

"We don't know this is a suicide," Morris finally said, still scrutinizing them. "Why would you say it is?"

Taemin blinked slowly, like a cat watching a canary. "Because we were standing right here when she fell." He pointed at the porch, then at the place Mrs. Marino's covered body lay. "Con and my sister were nearly hit by her on her way down."

Con was pretty sure Taemin didn't mean to sound that callous. Or...even if he did, Con still wished he'd just kept his mouth shut.

"Ella and I were walking up toward the porch where Taemin was waiting," he said. "I looked up and saw something falling toward us. I pushed Ella out of the way and she...Mrs. Marino h-hit the ground."

Morris had been listening intently, but a scowl suddenly darkened her face. "You know the deceased?"

Shit. Con swallowed against a dry throat, focusing hard on keeping his hands loose at his sides. Eventually, he gave a stilted nod. "I met the Marinos a little before noon today. They...They wanted to ask me about finding their daughter."

"Who recently died," Taemin pointed out, his eyes wide and filled with sympathy. "Tragically. Isn't the likeliest explanation that a mother couldn't deal with her daughter's sudden death?"

Morris blinked at him, her face going curiously blank. Then she shook her head. "I'm not here just to put a stamp of approval on the likeliest explanation, Mister Park. I'm here to investigate what actually happened, and then come to a conclusion."

Taemin raised a brow but before he could speak, Con put a hand on his shoulder. "Of course," he said, trying to smooth suddenly rough waters. "But the situation itself lends to certain conclusions. He's not saying that you should just make assumptions. All he's saying is it looks a lot like a suicide, which, you have to admit, it does."

Her cold gaze turned to him. "I don't admit anything, Mister Brennan. I investigate. Something you might be grateful for."

"Excuse me?" He tilted his head, not wanting to understand what she was getting at.

Officer Morris gave him a tight smile and waved a hand at both men. "By my count, this is the third body either or both of you have found."

Con's eyes narrowed. "Are you...trying to get to a point, Officer?"

"Con," Taemin whispered, a warning in his low tone. He placed a light hand on Con's shoulder, but that didn't calm the anger bubbling in him. 

It was one thing to level accusations at him—he'd been fielding them since he'd found the girl. It was another to suggest Taemin was somehow responsible. His only crime was being very much in the wrong place at the wrong time.

"I found a dead girl in a pool, just trying to take a morning swim. I tried to save her life." He shook Taemin off and gestured to him. "He found someone who was obviously the victim of a freak accident, and now this!" He waved to Mrs. Marino's body. "Someone who pretty fucking obviously killed herself."

"Con," Taemin said, grabbing his arm.

Con hadn't even realized he'd taken a step forward. He was shaking again, his hands curled into tight fists. He blew out a hard breath, not resisting as Taemin pulled him backwards.

"Look," Taemin said, shooting the cop a defensive glare. "We were all standing out here when she fell. Ella was here when it happened, and we're all soaked. The rain let up just a few minutes after she fell. How could we all get down here and get this wet? Plus," he pointed to the muddy ground, "you can see exactly where Con and Ella fell when they dove out of the way."

Morris gritted her teeth. She pointed at Con's face. "I suppose you gave those to him too?"

Taemin's eyes went dark, his lips peeling back to show his teeth in a snarl. Now it was Con's turn to pull him backward. Anger shimmered off of him in waves. Anger on Con's behalf.

"No." Con returned the officer's cold stare. "I got these after Mrs. Marino made a few...accusations. When I denied them, she attacked me. For obvious reasons, I left after that." He curled his lip at her. "All of which Mister Marino can attest to."

Officer Morris pursed her lips, but had no response to that.

Afraid that things would escalate if he stayed any longer, he grabbed Taemin's hand and turned toward the door. "I'm assuming we're done here. Both Taemin and I will be here until the end of the week, if you need anything else. If the sheriff wants us, we'll be upstairs."

Taemin followed quietly as Con pulled him through the door. Clara looked up from the desk, her hair mussed, her skin waxen. She opened her mouth, but Con strode toward the stairs, ignoring her.

He didn't stop until he was standing in front of the door to his room. He hesitated for a moment, looking back and forth between the silver key in his hand and Taemin. Everything about today had left him raw and shaken. Part of him knew he shouldn't be making a decision like this.

Fuck it. He unlocked the door, gesturing Taemin inside. He was long past believing he had any control over anything today. Even himself.

Taemin tilted his head before turning gracefully and walked into Con's room. When Con had locked the door behind him, Taemin asked, "What is this, Constantine?"

"I sincerely doubt I need to spell it out for you." He stalked around until he was standing in front of Taemin.

A devious smile pulled at Taemin's mouth, making him look absolutely sinful. "I won't tell you to stop," he admitted, then he frowned. "But I feel like I should say maybe we shouldn't. Not right now."

"Because of what happened?" Con's laugh was edged in hysteria. He knew Taemin was probably right, but control had spun away from him and he just couldn't bring himself to care. "People are dropping like goddamn flies around here. And I..." He choked on his words. It took a moment before he could actually manage to speak. "I think I'm tired of my life being on hold because of death."

It was simultaneously the most painful and most freeing thing he'd said in his life. Guilt and loyalty toward Jenna ripped claws through him. The soft understanding on Taemin's face dulled it just enough.

Con realized he probably wasn't thinking clearly, but that was sort of the point. After these last three days, he didn't want to think clearly. So before that could become a substantial threat, he hooked his hand around the back of Taemin's neck and jerked him forward. 

He didn't resist as Con kissed him. He helped peel Con's sodden shirt off. He toed his shoes off as Con pulled him toward the bed. More wet clothes were discarded and Con's teeth scraped along Taemin's jaw to his ear where he used his tongue to play with one of the silver hoops there.

Taemin groaned deep in his throat, his breath turning ragged when Con rolled them until Taemin was on top of him. He raised his eyebrows in a silent question.

Con just nodded, biting at Taemin's collarbone. Whatever reservations might have lingered between them snapped apart. Taemin swept away every thought, memory and nasty bit of madness in Con's head. 

Being with Taemin was all hot breath and graceful movement, teeth and nails scraping skin. He had an impossible understanding of what it took to wring every last drop of pleasure from Con's body. It was a shift of control back and forth between them, and no control at all.

When it was over, Con fell back into the sheets, his chest heaving with ragged breaths. Taemin chuffed a laugh before collapsing onto his stomach beside him. They both just lay there, basking in the endorphins until their breathing quieted and slowed. Lazily, Con raked his hand through Taemin's rain and sweat dampened hair. Taemin let out a throaty hum that sounded more like a purr and looked up.

Sweat gleamed on his high cheekbones, his eyes hazed with pleasure. "That was probably a bad idea," he said, pillowing his head on crossed arms.

"Probably." Con brushed his fingers through Taemin's hair again. "But I couldn't possibly care right now."

The only response that earned was a laugh and a nod. Taemin's eyes slid closed as Con continued to play with his hair. They stayed like that for a long time. Or, what felt like a long time, though it was hard to tell. More clouds had rolled in to block the sun, and Con had no clue where his phone might be.

He didn't really care, though. The only thing drawing his attention was the fire stirring beneath his skin as his gaze traced the beautiful lines of Taemin's face, particularly his mouth. Jenna's death had torn any desire away from him. Taemin had returned it with a vicious blaze.

When that blaze became impossible to ignore, he said, "I need a shower."

Taemin's eyes popped open, and he sat up when Con got out of the bed. He didn't move an inch as Con crossed the room, though he could feel Taemin's hungry gaze scorching the skin between his shoulder blades. With a grin, he paused at the bathroom's threshold. He lifted his hand and curled his fingers, gesturing for Taemin to join him.

He barely had time to get the water running before Taemin scrambled into the bathroom. A yelp left him as he was shoved beneath the mercifully warm spray. He turned, any reprimand dying away as Taemin pressed him against the tile, kissing him. Con dug his fingers into the back of Taemin's neck. He really was a phenomenal kisser—every clever twist of his tongue and nip of his teeth left Con breathless.

His hands glided over Con's chest, his abdomen...lower. He closed his eyes, just to hiss when Taemin stopped touching him.

"Don't you dare—shit!"  Con barked, every muscle coiling tight with pleasure as Taemin's mouth brushed over him. Con's fingers threaded through Taemin's wet hair, his head tipping back and lips parting.

He closed his eyes as everything Taemin did brought him closer to the edge of ecstasy.

For the life of him, he couldn't remember why he had ever denied this man. He couldn't remember why he'd been so angry before. Hell, he could barely remember his own name.

And, for once, he was perfectly okay with every ounce of control being stripped from him.