Cole: "I know you're sorry, Zeke. But every time I look at you, all I see is Kessler's face, laughing at me. And it makes me want to strangle the life out of you."
Zeke: "I know."
Cole: "You're all I've got left, Zeke. But by God, I hate your guts."
“Maybe it'd help.”
“What?” Cole turned back to Zeke, eyebrow raised. “What're you talking about?”
“Strangling me a bit. You know, physical therapy an' all that.”
“You think it'd help if I strangled you.” It wasn't a question, and, somehow, it was hellishly appealing. Cole's voice was flat, as expressionless as he could make it, but he couldn't deny the spark of, what, excitement? Whatever it was, it sprang up in his chest and wouldn't let go, and he was never one to abstain from doing whatever the fuck he wanted.
Cole moved in dangerously close to Zeke, staring at him as if he were stalking prey or something stupid like that. “You want me to strangle you, Zeke? Would it make you feel better?”
Zeke winced as Cole raised his hand. He flexed his fingers experimentally, lightning dancing across like he was hypnotising someone with a bullet. “I dunno. Maybe? It'd make you feel better though, wouldn't it?”
“You got some faith in my ablility to hold back, have you? Who's to say I wouldn't snap,” he snarled. “Lightning through your neck'd be a surefire way to kill you stone dead, and I ain't known for my restraint around these parts.”
Zeke dropped his gaze, although his eyes kept on flickering to Cole's hand. Was that longing? Who knew. “I know,” he said, simply. “But if it'll help you, brother...” he trailed off.
Cole turned his shoulder, took one pace away, the tension mounting up in his back. He clenched his fists as Zeke continued, hearing that fucking laughter, seeing it as he squeezed his eyes shut.
“Shit, I don't wanna die, you know that. I just wanna make it up to you. Somehow-”
Cole turned, quick as a flash, and swung. His fist connected with Zeke's mouth, shutting him up more effectively than any other method.
Zeke staggered back, colliding with the fence, and Cole was up in his personal space like a flash, one hand at his throat, the other crackling with lightning, hovering about an inch from Zeke's face.
“So what now, man? You want me to pin you down and slaughter you to make yourself feel better, is that it? Or what, we meant to just go back to how things were...” Cole shook his head, baring his teeth. “Maybe I just fuck you now then leave. Never see you again, huh? Is that what you want?”
No response. Still. His fingers at Zeke's throat tightened. Any sound would be better than nothing, than that silence, but still Zeke didn't respond. He's sorry, shit, Cole knew that in every inch of his bones he's sorry, but that don't mean jack squat when that fucking silence was filled with Kessler, laughing like he was fit to burst.
Cole'd felt silence like this before – after Trish, shit, even when they were just kids together. He narrowed his eyes at Zeke, who averted his, and then Cole moved in, fast as a snake, and kissed him. It wasn't slow or romantic or even pleasant in the slightest, but the Cole could smell his own singed lightning scent from his hand and that disgusting aftershave Zeke insisted on using, even though it'd always been enough to repulse raccoons at ten meters, and then Zeke kind of moaned and attempted to bring his hands up and it was fucking ruined, all over again, Kessler's lips on Cole's, and Cole could do nothing but back off, dragging a hand across his mouth like he'd eaten something rotten, his glare enough to melt brick.
Zeke opened his mouth, taking a step forward, but Cole threw out his hands, electricity springing to life in a restraint, holding Zeke at each wrist to the fence behind.
Cole laughed, harsh and gutteral. “Nu-uh,” he tutted, one finger wagging in disapproval. He fixed his gaze on a point to the left of Zeke's head, taking slow, even breaths. “If I leave you here, you'll die of thirst, starvation, whatever. Those restraints won't fail, ya know, even if I'm long gone. Tempting...” he shook his head again. “But like I said, you're all I've got, and I'm not about to cut that sort of lifeline, even if you are a dick.”
“I'm-”
“Sorry.” Cole barked out a laugh. “Yeah, I know. Shit, Z, you think I don't know that?” Lightning danced across his fingers again, and he watched it's orangey glow, comforted for a second or two. “Whatever man. Just. Whatever. I can't even look at you right now.” Cole waved his hand and dismissed the arc restraints.
He walked to the edge of the rooftop. He could hear Zeke behind him, footsteps as heavy as ever, but he didn't stop to say goodbye, just launched himself off the building, the sound of Zeke's voice fading as he fell. Cole had no idea what he'd said, and he didn't give a shit.
He landed hard and solid, dust up his nose, and set off at a sprint, the wind in his ears just about drowning out the sound of Kessler's laughter. It was a start.
Afterword
End Notes
My first inFamous fic! And it made me realise that I can't really reconcile my evil!Cole canon with my ship, so anything else I write will likely be good!Cole/Zeke. Hatesex really doesn't work! Or at least, I couldn't get it to. :/