Teeth
Part 25
Masterlist
Warnings: Work shenanigans, anxiety, angst, jealousy, possessiveness.
A/N: I feel like I say this a lot but Jesus Christ I am having the roughest time. Like... my dog's sick, and work is fucking insane and trying to balance life is an absolute nightmare. Being alive is making me mad right now. Send help.
Anyways, here's Teeth.
Danny hovers over your shoulder like a bug you desperately want to swat.
Surely HR would understand it if you just gave him one swift smack with the server’s operator manuals on the desk nearby.
He’s just… too close.
It’s scrambling your thinking, you can’t read properly when his breath is dusting your shoulder. Seriously, who stands so close?
He’d only been here half a month now, he’d supplied that information too eagerly to you on his way up. He was like a puppy, with his shaggy brown hair and glasses, shifting behind you to see better and asking questions while you were trying to do your checks.
Questions were okay, you didn’t mind answering questions- except it was hard to read the results of your diagnostic checks and answer his million questions.
“Why did you decide to become a consultant?” Danny asks.
Jesus Christ.
When you part your lips to politely answer him, an error pops up. One or more nodes not responding.
Fan-fucking-tastic.
“Uh,” You hedge, leaning in to reboot the system in hopes that it fixes the problem. In the time that it takes to reboot, you scrape together a polite answer for Danny.
“Honestly, I didn’t think consultancy was a logical path because my old boss made it out to be a nepotistic boy’s club. Maybe his way of holding me in that role. It worked for a while, but Mister Russo just made me an offer I’d have been too stupid to refuse.” Not to mention he’s hot as sin and his cum is still leaking out of me, you think to yourself with a small smile.
When the system reboots, the error is still present. You let out a soft breath of annoyance, opening up the error logs to search for any hints as to what might be causing the issue.
“Why don’t we just reboot everything again?” Danny asks.
Thankfully you’re facing the computer screen so he doesn’t see your right eye twitch. You glance at the operator’s manual longingly for a moment.
“Maybe if the error was related to synchronisation that might work. But I suspect there’s a corrupted file somewhere causing this. Servers don’t usually like unexpected power losses. Maybe we shouldn’t have a single button that-”
Your fingers freeze on the keyboard.
Something strange washes down your spine, an ache in your throat as if you’ve swallowed a handful of nails.
Wrong.
Danny keeps talking.
You can’t hear him properly, his voice muffled under the ringing that has started in your head.
You try to swallow.
Standing suddenly, you glance from the computer to Danny, unable to explain why you suddenly feel like your insides, your soul, your very essence is no longer in the room with you, having left your body without warning.
“I have to… do something,” You rush out inexplicably, “Run the diagnostic again, I’ll-” Turning, you run out the door.
.
The feeling is so unfamiliar that it shocks you. It’s like an instinct you’d long forgotten about, coming to life and demanding your compliance. You don’t know where you’re going, just letting your feet take you as though your head has rescinded control to something buried deeper.
It takes you through the halls, to the elevator, your hand hovering over the numbers, trying to discern with unfamiliar senses where to go.
Your heart begins slamming in your chest, pulses of warm blood racing through your head, the distinct feeling of running out of time overwhelms you.
Which floor? What was going on? You close your eyes and jab without thought.
Top floor.
Billy.
Yes, that was it, you had to find Billy.
This wasn’t like the anxiety attack you’d had before, this was strange, the urge to see him- to soothe him- almost swallows you.
Your finger jabs the button again and again, as though pressing it more times will move the elevator faster. You can hear your own breathing, feel the shallow squeezes of your heart, but something else is in control.
The doors pull open slowly, you squeeze yourself through the first gap you can.
You know where you’re going now, your thoughts in your head have aligned somewhat with the movement of your body until you’re pressing against his office door.
“Billy?”
He turns as though he’s been caught. You draw in deep breaths, eyes scanning the room for threats. Your eyes roam the room, finding nothing, before something catches your eye.
In the corner of the room, on one of his couches, is the scarf you’d lost a week ago.
It’s not the scarf that’s strange, but the items around that seem odd- a broken phone- not just broken- crushed- as though squeezed under an object while lying on its side. A torn shirt, that makes you approach curiously. Ripped right down the middle, splashes of mud all over it.
Then, another piece of dark, ripped fabric, curiously, you reach for it. It’s stiff, crusty, flakes of mud settling on your palm as you pick it up. Except that… mud doesn’t usually smell so metallic.
Gasping, you drop the fabric, stepping back, wiping your hands against your pants automatically. You realise where you’d seen it before. They’d shown you pictures of the mangled serial killer after your near death escape, anything to help jog your memory of the events.
The fabric… had once been a part of his shirt.
Your hands can’t seem to feel clean, as you wipe them repeatedly.
“What is this?” You turn your head to look in Billy’s direction, his face is calm, his eyes making a slow assessment of you as you feel like you’re going a little crazy, “What’s going on?”
“It’s nothing.” He says, the clicking of his desk drawer as it slides shut. You hadn’t realised it was open in the first place.
“This isn’t nothing.” You swallow, turning your head back to the little pile of items.
“That’s my scarf- and the torn shirt is from-” Your throat tightens before you can say the words.
“Why are they here?” You turn to look at Billy, his eyes seem to plead with you to stop, but you don’t want to, you want answers, “Why?”
And the phone, you turn back to look at the phone. Was this his?
You stared at the items, and stared and stared and the pieces wouldn’t fit, they didn’t make sense.
Did the stalker leave these items during the power outage? Why?
Your fingers trace over the torn shirt. Ripped, as though torn from the body in a sudden haste, or maybe shredded under claws-
Your breath shudders out.
The crushed phone was indented weirdly, curled in, one side held a wider surface area of damage than the other, you could almost imagine it, held in someone’s hand and squeezed.
Not someone. A predator.
You straightened, turning to look at Billy once more.
He looked back at you, stoic, like the man you’d met all those months ago was here once again.
You waited, and waited, and hoped he’d explain, but when a minute had passed in tense silence between you, the realisation came that you would not be hearing an explanation.
Your throat ached, your heart tore.
You would have believed him. You would have understood. You would have kept it a secret.
He didn’t trust you.
Without a word, you turn, and walk out the door.
.
The silence that echoes through his head is short lived.
The beast roars in his head, so loudly that he squeezes his eyes shut and tightens his fists. Unconsciously, he takes a step forward as if to chase you, stopping himself short.
Angry.
The predator rages at him. Billy feels his teeth elongate, his eyes shift, pushing at him to find you, to confess to you, to kneel at your feet and beg for your forgiveness.
To claim-
A sharp, guttural breath leaves his chest.
He reaches for his phone, and calls Madani.
She answers on the third ring. Neither of them speaks.
“Anvil. Now.” Is all Billy can find the control to say through gritted teeth. He can barely hear himself think over the angry roaring of the panther in his head.
He ends the call, gripping his table tightly as he tries to think.
Fuck, he should have locked the building down. He’d have to call security.
He’d been so busy hiding the more… revealing evidence in his desk that the thought had slipped him.
Worse- he was still warring with himself to go after you.
The look on your face had crushed him. How could he have done that to you? Why didn’t he say anything?
You were in enough danger already, without him adding confirmation of shapeshifters into the mix. The thought of what could happen to you if hunters got their hands on you was enough to momentarily silence the beast.
They would capture you, torture you, try to turn you against him, and if they couldn’t- they’d kill you.
Which was… a best case scenario.
He couldn’t think about worst case- not without the memories of his past being dredged up, the shouts of shifters reverberating in his head as they’re killed by their brainwashed mates. The agony of betrayal in the sound of their screams, begging their loves to remember them.
Putting her deeper into harm’s way wasn’t an option.
The day is almost over when Dinah arrives. He asks Sergei to make sure you get home safely before he finds himself being dragged into a game of endless possibilities with the Homeland agent.
Sitting at his desk, all the evidence laid out before him as the sun sets behind him. He tilts his head, watching Dinah scan the items, leaning in to pick up the black scrap of fabric you’d handled earlier, sniffing at it.
“It’s a warning.” Billy says, stating the obvious.
Madani hums, “It’s more than that.”
His eyebrow twitches curiously.
“This person has collected a lot of evidence about you. They know the places you’ve been, they know what you are-” She picks up what looks like a large petri dish, holding a cutting of mud that contains one of his perfectly preserved paw prints, “They’ve cleaned up after you. They want you to know that.”
She examines the paw print, leaning in to take a tentative sniff.
“All I can smell is you. Even that tells me something. This isn’t just a warning, this is… obsession.”
He turns away, sifting through his head for anyone that might be willing to go to these lengths.
Unfortunately, the list is long.
Combing through security footage is longer still.
Billy paces behind Dinah as she sits and scrolls through the screens.
“How can there be nothing?” He asks for a second time.
Dinah is no doubt tired of him, her annoyance growing in every breath she takes.
“There are no freezes, or splices in the footage, no inconsistencies in the hallway movements. Everyone on your floor is accounted for.”
Billy pauses his steps, “What if they came in from another floor?”
Dinah itches at the corner of her eye, “Like through a vent? Do you have a vent that would fit a human?”
“No,” He drawls, “But-” He turns to face her swiftly, “Maybe we’re not looking for a human.”
“Shifter?” Dinah utters in disbelief, the quick clicking of the mouse as she scrolls, “As in, a wereferret pulling a bag of werepanther evidence through the vents?”
Billy makes a face.
“Are wereferrets real?” He asks.
Dinah chuckles.
“You tell me, you might have one running through your vents obsessed with you.”
He reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose.
“I’ll make the shifters on my team do a sweep. If there’s anything there- they’ll find it.”
Madani nods absentmindedly.
“I’ll take a copy of the footage, and keep sweeping. There has to be something.”
Billy agrees.
.
It’s almost ten p.m. when they step into the garage. Billy’s heading to his car, and Dinah’s isn’t parked too far away.
“Someone should check in on…” Billy says, refraining from speaking Frank’s name, always trying to keep his best friend safe.
She knows what he means though.
“I’ll reach out within the week and let you know.”
“Thanks.”
He pauses when he sees another car in the parking lot. Sure, the building isn’t empty, but this is the car Sergei should have used to take you home hours ago.
Shit. When was the last time he’d checked his phone?
There’s a message from you, telling him that you’re working late- part of his system isn’t communicating- that you sent Sergei home and that you’ll grab a taxi.
He lets out a swift curse.
Dinah lifts an eyebrow curiously.
Something wrong?” She asks.
“It’s fine, I just forgot something inside. I’ll talk to you later.” He says, turning to walk back the way he came.
He finds Sergei standing outside the server room with a bored expression on his face. The corner of his mouth twitches in amusement, that you thought you could have dismissed his bodyguard after he’d received orders to make sure you got home safely.
“Go home, Sergei.” Billy murmurs as he pulls open the door.
He doesn’t wait to see if the man acknowledges his command.
Your scent is sweet in the air, a little tart around the edges. He can even smell himself, still lingering on your skin and that makes the predator purr in delight. He feels himself stir in his trousers, the thought of being here alone with you stirs something wicked inside of him.
His smile drops when he smells another, and then his mood sinks even further when your laughter rings out.
Who the fuck is making his girl laugh?
He rounds the corner, and stops, catching your side profile.
There you are, with your hair pulled back, a little messy, as though you could care less about righting it. That soft, pretty way you look, your eyes rimmed red with exhaustion and still a smile on your face as you glance over at-
Fucking Danny.
The beast growls.
You shiver, and he watches you tug something tighter around you. He swears he feels his teeth crack under the strain of his anger.
Who's fucking jacket were you wearing?
And why the fuck was that man so close to you?
He raises a hand, and raps loudly on the nearby steel doorframe. Two heads swivel in his direction.
“Mister Russo.” You say, rising.
Mister Russo?
Mister Russo?
Forget his fucking nickname, he was going to condition that tight cunt to get wet every time you called him Mister Fucking Russo since you insisted on saying it so goddamned much.
After today, he was going to teach you the very hard way, what his fucking name was.
He feels the predator wrap tightly around his thoughts, influencing his demeanour. Billy draws in a deep breath, glancing at the monitor while he gets himself in check.
“A little late, isn’t it?”
You make a small hum, looking back at the monitor as well.
“Yes. I had to reload the software-” You spare a look at Danny, “-twice, and then the backups I made are being restored now.”
His eyes fall on the man’s jacket wrapped around you as you talk. The predator urges him to rip the jacket off of you and strangle Danny with it.
“Hmm.” he intonates softly.
You turn back to him with wide eyes.
“Can I speak with you outside?” Billy asks, moving aside to allow you to pass, not really giving you the option of saying no.
He scents your spike of interest in the air as you nod easily, looking back at Danny for a second and giving him instructions in case the backup finishes loading before you get back.
When you walk past him, he catches your scent, mixed in with Danny’s, and his canines elongate in his mouth. He tosses Danny a murderous look before he turns to follow you out.
.
You lean your shoulder against the wall outside, waiting patiently for Billy. You let out a slow sigh, squeezing your eyes closed for a moment before reopening them.
Damn, you really should have tried harder to fall asleep last night.
You hear the door click shut and you raise your head, fighting a yawn.
“If this is about overtime-”
Your body is pressed squarely into the wall and his mouth is on yours before you can even finish your sentence.
Fuuuuck.
His kiss is harsh, almost punishing. Difficult to keep up with and hard to comprehend with your tired brain.
But you love every second of it.
Your hands lift, pressing to his shoulders and a low growl leaves him, as he reaches up to grip your wrists, pinning them beside your head.
You suck in a breath of surprise, but he doesn’t relent, slipping a leg between your own as you feel your stance buckle slightly.
“B- Billy.” You murmur into his mouth.
He makes a sound of defiance, releasing one wrist to grab a fistful of the hair on the back of your head.
You whine, hips gliding unconsciously over his thigh, searching for friction.
His hand grips your hair tighter, a small sound of bliss and surprise leaves you.
His mouth finds your neck, kissing and worrying the skin, sharp teeth nipping as he moves to that sweet spot between your neck and shoulder. You sigh, tilting your head eagerly, nipples pebbling at the hungry way he mouths at you. He pushes the jacket off your shoulders and you let it drop to the floor eagerly.
His mouth is gone from you almost instantly.
You’re so confused for a moment, the absence of him causing your head to spin as you press your body to the wall behind.
Eyes zeroing in on him, standing across from you, wiping at your gloss clinging to the corner of his mouth.
You watch, as he slowly tugs his jacket off, your eyes eating up the way he looks in his shirt, the muscles of his arms flexing, barely contained. A slow breath of awareness as he approaches.
“What-” You start to say, but you’re interrupted by him turning you to face the wall, and the next thing you know, he’s tugging his jacket onto your body like you’re just an oversized doll.
Fuck, your brain is essentially scrambled right now, thrown off-kilter by his confusing mannerisms.
He pulls the jacket to your shoulders before turning you to face him. His hands smooth over the lapels, studying them with a careful eye.
His thumb strokes your racing pulse point on your throat gently. You find yourself swallowing under the intensity of his gaze, his eyes tracing the movement.
You feel his thumb, press into your throat more firmly.
“You should be more careful about whose things you wear. You wouldn’t want to… put someone in danger.”
It takes you longer than you’d like to admit to figure out what exactly he means.
You part your lips to say something, to defend the guy you'd warmed to just a little while working with him. Yes, you still wanted to smack him over the head with the Operator’s Manual, but in a slightly less homicidal way.
“You know I'm going to have to swear him to secrecy now, right? If I walk back in there with your jacket-”
His hand moves to secure itself around your throat. Not even squeezing, just holding you there in a way that tells you he's trying his best to be nice.
You fight a smile.
“Don't care.” He utters gruffly, “You're mine.”
Now when he says it like that, with his dark eyes on you, promising every wicked thing you've ever fantasized about, it makes you feel just a little bit crazy with how much you want him.
You nod in understanding, and he lets out a soft sigh.
“I'll wait for you in the car.” He murmurs, placing one last lingering kiss to your cheek, before he steps away.
.
“Hey,” Danny says when you step back into the room, his eyes still fixed on the monitor, “Upload just finished and I'm just rebooting like you said.”
You let out a soft sigh, “Okay, cool.”
“Everything alright with Russo?” He asks, finally turning to face you. You watch his eyes drop to the jacket on your shoulder which is distinctly not his.
“Oh… right.”
You give him an apologetic smile, stepping in to take your seat, passing him his jacket.
You can't figure out what to say, your chest sort of aches with the thought that Danny now thinks less of you because you’re wearing your boss’ jacket. Correction- that you took his offered item of clothing off when you were cold to wear Billy’s.
That he now thought you maybe seduced your way into this position, that you weren’t actually good at your job.
Fuck, why did you care so much?
Dumb question obviously, you literally built your career from scratch with your bare hands, of course you’d be sensitive to people questioning your credibility.
“So,” Danny finally says, in his attempt to split some of the tension in the room, “You and Russo?”
“Y-yeah.” You whisper softly, “It’s… new.”
“That’s cool.” Danny’s tone is casual.
You turn to study him.
“Please don’t tell anyone. I know most of the team sort of hates that I’m here, and I don’t want to give them another reason to.”
He nods, deep in thought, the curls in his hair bouncing as he looks at the screen in front of him.
“I won’t say a word. Trust me, the last person I want to piss off is you.”
You cock your head to the side, not expecting that response.
“Me?”
“Yeah,” He laughs, “You’re the person that caused some guy’s computer to explode from miles away without him even knowing.”
A surprised laugh slips out of you.
“I guess I did do that, yeah.”
Danny grins, “Fucking awesome.”
.
.
.
