I saved up all my pennies and I gave them to this special guy

[fabricatings]

He's not feeling himself. Not right. Something's scratching, clawing, and it's not because of the pain he imagines. It's not because of his life. It's because he needs something--anything. No oxy? Vicodin. No vicodin? Tramadol. Hydromorphone. Pethidine. All that mattered was that they were opioids and they were strong.

He tricks himself into thinking he can last at least a day with one pill. Briggs is convinced someone stole his tranquilizers, and even rounds on Mike. That's what sets it off--junkies aren't exactly ones for a stable environment. Briggs and Mike are both paranoid, powerful individuals who know how the other operates. It starts off as a fist-fight, Briggs claiming Mike took his drugs for drug money. Mike isn't exactly calm when he uproots the small table and begins yelling right back. The fact that he was thinking about it never comes up, but he goes for a walk.

He's still feeling it, the scratching inside his head. Like an insect, wanting to crawl out of his ear. And on top of that, he swears his gut feels like it's being stabbed. Like that knife is being sliced into him, over and over again. His lip is bleeding but he doesn't care--that pain is nothing compared to the flare in his abs, or the way even his teeth seem to be on fire instead of their usual numb state.

It's late by the time he tracks down his dealer after the other doesn't answer his texts. Slams him against the wall, demanding what he wants. Of course his dealer is out. Turns out, by the time Mike has actually beaten the shit out of the guy, the dealer is right. He's out.

"I know a guy, though," He says. "Hangs out at so-and-so a bar."

Mike's going to have to work for his meal, it seems, and he gives one last kick in the ribs to his dealer, tells him pleasantly he'll see him tomorrow and he'd better have some oxy squared away just for him.

To the bar he goes. He looks like shit--hasn't shaved, long hair--but he also doesn't care. All he cares about is the scratching, the pain--he needs that to go away. He just needs to track down who the fuck his dealer was talking about.

Comments

[47redbirds]

He's wearing a tank top, nothing else--grubby, in need of a watch if he's being honest, but it's hard to remember to do laundry when all you need is your next fix and your roommate is chomping at the bit for more heroin.

"You're sick," He manages, wincing as he tries a second time to try to get the tape off of his hands. How the fuck did he even get himself into this situation? "This help you get off?" He challenged. "Making sure people don't have a chance to fight back?"

[heroeswork]

"You had your chance," Billy said, either missing the proper question or opting to ignore it, intentionally. "And look where it got you."

Shoving the hoodie open, Billy ran his hands up over the tank top. Just as filthy as he expected. One hand stayed on Mike's chest, the other reached into his own jacket pocket. He produced a knife. A rather wicked looking thing that he flipped open with a flick of his wrist. And with careful precision, he started to cut. Just the dirty white fabric. Slowly slicing upward.

[47redbirds]

"A gun in the mouth," He snapped. Maybe not the wisest choice, but the other was literally cutting off his shirt. He can feel the cold knife on his chest, causing him to tense. He'd shake his head but he's watching, entranced, at that cold metal. As if somehow he wasn't actually in his own body. Shock?

"C'mon, man, you don't have to do this..."

[heroeswork]

Billy stayed silent, intently watching his own work. The knife ever so slowly tearing through fabric. Until at last he came to the top. And with a sharp flick, he sliced through that final barrier. The knife came up, pressing under Mike's chin without breaking the skin. "But I do..."

The knife pulled back and ever so slowly, started tracing down Mike's exposed chest with the tip. Still not doing any damage, but close enough that if Mike moved to fast or too hard, there would be nothing Billy could do. "I very much do..." there was a breathless lust in his voice. Possessive and demanding.

[47redbirds]

"No, you don't," Was he just crazy? The final flick made Mike genuinely flinch, the knife to his throat biting at him. Not breaking the skin but gripping him, making him feel like he can't move. If he does, he gets tabbed. Pure and simple.

The knife moves down, down, and his breath hitches, stomach clenching. Willing himself to stay still: he'd rather not die, not now. It's the tone that bothers him the most, though. Predatory. Full of something he can't quite place, full of something he hasn't heard in a long time: lust.

"No, you don't," He argues. "You can be better than this, alright? You can--push through whatever urges you're having right now."

[heroeswork]

With a click, the knife folded and Billy tucked it away. Freeing up both his hands, he could push them over that exposed skin. Nudge aside the grungy shirt and take in what he'd finally captured. It was better than he'd anticipated. That brief glimpse in the bar had been nothing more than a tease. This was exquisite.

"Can you push through?" Billy asked, leaning down, his lips finding Mike's collar bone. Slowly, he moved backwards. Lips caressing skin with the lightest touch. As if they were gentle lovers. "When it starts to hurt...when it starts to itch." He let out a low chuckle. "You're better than the pills." He found the scar with his fingers first. His lips moving to it as if a mere kiss could heal the old wound. "Just...one more...to get you through..."

[47redbirds]

Lips. Lips on him, gentle and wonderful and Mike reminds himself that this isn't Paige, this is a psycho from the street. He'd heard stories of people taking hookers for this kind of shit--attractive girls. Attractive men on rare occasion. Not people like him. Not for this.

Pill poppers were just quick and steady murder. This isn't.

Billy kisses down his chest and Mike visibly flinches, visibly shudders, half-dressed and suddenly all-too-cold in the cramped compartment of the car.

Mike can block out the other's voice. Could, until those lips move to the low scar--the knife wound, the bullet sound, grouped so near each other. How he'd never thought the scars would matter until now. Mike feels, suddenly, like he's going to throw up.

"Stop," He managed, sounding amazingly commanding despite his position. "Stop and think about what you're doing and work through it, you know this is wrong."

And now Mike knows he's a hypocrite.

[heroeswork]

Billy felt that reaction to the scar, under his fingertips and his lips. The tension and fear. He imagined he could smell it, taste it as he ran his tongue over the scar. Old and new fear, then and now. That was his drug. To hold a man, strong and confident as Mike, quaking in his hand.

"Just one more," he repeated, sounding exactly like every junk that came to him. Pleading and desperate, frayed at the edges and one sharp tug from falling apart. "Just enough to get through the week," repeating Mike's words to him, now. In that same tone that was both razor sharp and fragile. Like broken glass. "Just give me what I need." Pleading. desperate.

The tone contrasted sharply with what could be seen in the dark. His hands were steady and his movements confident. His continued to kiss over that scar as his hands fell to Mike's thighs. Gentle, kneading fingers slowly pushing open the other's legs.

[47redbirds]

It was mindgames. That's all this was, Mike had to tell himself. Mindgames. He isn't a junkie, isn't an addict, this is just pure mindgames.

Billy's voice, though. How shaken he seemed, how stricken. How Mike had heard that in his own head, somewhere between when the scratching and the pain starts. He has to stay focused.

But Billy was being so gentle, almost tender, and Mike, even with Paige, had been rough and desperate for both of them. He honestly doesn't know what to do in this situation, his legs being pushed open.

"Colin--Colin, please. Don't do this."

[heroeswork]

Billy moved up again, quicker this time, his lips ghosting over chest and neck. "But it hurts..." His tone was far closer to lustful this time, the desperate fragility seeming to have faded.

His hand came up, grasping a handful of Mike's hair, forcing his head to the side. All so Billy's lips could have easier access to the side of his neck. "...just one more..." he said again, dropping to a whisper.

His lips moved up to Mike's ear now, teasing over the outer edge. "Just give me what I need. Please." It was a mix of that junkie desperation and something much darker. And as he said it, his hips rocked firmly against Mike's. He was already hard. Incredibly hard. Enough to be easily felt through his jeans.

[47redbirds]

Those hips. The way the other was sounding sounded less and less like a mockery, and more like it's Billy that needs it. Like Billy is the one, desperate to get off on the words.

Maybe it's the act.

"This the only way you can get off?" He says through grit teeth. Maybe he shouldn't taunt the other, but after those lips on his ear, how his stomach felt physically repulsed...

Fuck.

[heroeswork]

Billy yanks harder on Mike's hair, pulling his head further aside. His lips dip lower, teeth grazing the exposed throat before closing his lips over that very same spot. For a moment he seemed completely absorbed in the act, intent on leaving a mark on Mike's throat. His entire body seemed in on the process, moving against Mike's body, pressing as close as he could.

Breathless, he finally let go. He moved Mike's head again, so he could look the other in the face. Lips nearly touching lips. "We all have our vices, don't we?" All of that faked desperation dropped away, leaving nothing but a dark and twisted delight.

[47redbirds]

He's wishing he kept his hair cut short, that's for sure, and the pain of those fingers on his hair, every follicle feeling like it's on fire.

It's the kiss that gets him though, the sucking like it's a hickey in the back of the bleachers at prom night, but he's duct taped in the back of some fucking stranger's car.

All he wanted was some pain killers.

The other's lowering his weight on the other, erection painfully obvious, and Mike lets out a grunt, mostly of half-disgust as the other practically leers. "This is the only way you can get it. This is the only way you can get someone decently attractive, isn't it?"

[heroeswork]

They'd passed from anger to a sort of bargaining. Rationalization. Mike trying to desperately to find a reason. It amused Billy. It meant they were one step closer to breaking. He'd see tears on Mike's face before the night was out.

Billy let go of Mike's hair, dragging his fingers down the side of his face. Ever so gently he brought his index finger down to the man's lips, shushing him ever so softly. "I could have anyone I wanted, any time I wanted." He said it with the confidence of a man who truly believed those words. "But where's the fun, where's the thrill when they want it, too? Where's the hunt?"

He pulled the finger away and pressed their lips together. Crushingly hard.

[47redbirds]

The gentleness, the softness, his hair stops feeling like it's on fire and Mike is staring at the other, eyes bright and blue and dulled only by the drugs in his system.

It was the kiss that causes his entire body to tense. Everything seizes up, and he tries as much as he can to keep his lips shut and tight, grunting in protest, trying to turn his head away as much as he can.

This guy was fucked up. Seriously messed up, and between the other's hard cock on his pants and his lips on his. He felt slimey.

[heroeswork]

It was exactly what Billy wanted, why he used the tactics he did. Because he hadn't lied when he said he could have anyone he wanted. With the right clothes and a good shave, he could work his charm with the ease of shooting fish in a barrel. Even men who didn't even know they could be attracted to other men were no obstacle for him. He knew just what to say and what to do to win them over. And in the times in between, that was enough to tide him over. But sometimes, he needed find a wild one, and break him. That's really what satisfied him.

"You know what it feels like, don't you?" Billy breathed out as Mike twisted his face away. He pressed his forehead to the side of Mike's face, staying close. "That scratching on the inside of your skin? That twisting in your stomach? The way your hands shake." On the emphasized word, he planted his hands hard on Mike's torso, dragging his fingers down, digging them in hard. "The way you just know you're not gonna make it another day without just a little something to get you through." He spoke like he knew what it felt like. In a way he did, but it was subtler for him, and he could go a lot longer without.

His fingers found the other's pants, hooking under the waistband. Slowly dragging them down.

[47redbirds]

If he says something, he's going to antagonize this guy. He knows that, now. Is all too aware of whats' going on. This Colin guy isn't talking about him at all--he's talking about himself, and how apparently he's a fucking serial killer.

..But no. The dealer's hand digs and dips into his chest, hard, and Mike swears it's near his wounds on purpose. His entire body protests, pushing back, hips moving as he clenches his entire body in protest.

Those words, though. They're true and they ring in his ears. If he doesn't take his pills it gets worse, more worse, and then fevers, nausea, and he gets it bad. Mike gets it so, so, bad, from shakes to chills to moodswings and more. The desperation, the anger, the will to do anything.

It's when his pants drag down that Mike's hips push up, not because he wants it. It's the opposite--he's trying to let go, panic set in instead of anger. It's still a mixture, but it's only because he expected it. The moment he felt the other's hard on, the moment the guy touched Mike's dick, he knew.

"I do. I do," He managed, "Just stop what you're doing, man, come on--you gotta stop this, it's ridiculous, alright? Just let me go, let me walk and we forget the whole thing." Why did he sound like a broken record?

[heroeswork]

"But I need it," Billy said with a mocking sort of laugh. Damn, he wished he knew the guy's name. That messed with them so much when he whispered their name like they were lovers. But there hadn't been any ID in the wallet that he'd seen. And he couldn't just ask.

His tone dipped again into that desperate, junkie tone, "I'm desperate, man. You've gotta help me out..." but he couldn't maintain it and let out another dark chuckle. Before continuing in that possessive tone. "You wouldn't want to leave me hurting, would you?"

Leaving Mike's pants around his knees for now, Billy's hand slid up his thigh. To drag his fingers over the other's cock. Teasing and gentle.

[47redbirds]

It's the words he's all thought but never said, thrown right back into his face. He's taken such careful care not to do that, not to be a stupid junkie.

But here he was, here was this guy he met a good hour ago, now toying with him, treating him like a piece of meat. Unable to move his hands. The moment Billy's hand began to stroke him he let out a hiss, as if warning the other, and Mike used most of the force he could to try to yank out of it. It hurt, pinched his wrists, burned, it felt, but all that got was a loud yank and Mike half-sitting up.

"You don't need this, you need sex with someone. There's truck stops for this short of sick shit, not--"

Not what? Shady bar corners? On the off-chance he got out of this alive, he was going to kill Kelly. Plain and simple.

[heroeswork]

"It's not the sex..." Billy mused, practically hissing out the final word. He moved back, continuing to stroke, teasing but relentless. To show what he meant, he found his way to Mike's nipple. His breath fell on it first, followed by a teasing brush of his tongue.

Without any more warning than that, he bit down. Hard. As if he were trying to bite the thing off, but he didn't draw any blood.

[47redbirds]

Mike was looking down, mouth half-open, mostly in sheer surprise at what, exactly, he was doing. Stroking him, trying to get him to get hard. In this situation--being bound in a truck off the highway by a psycho. It was next to impossible, he thought. No way.

...Even if those hands did feel good, he hated who they belonged to. And how they kept stroking him relentlessly, just barely teasing him.

His eyes shut as Colin's tongue moves to his chest, right on his nipple, and he's all too sensitive at the breathe, the situation--

--Billy bites and bites hard and Mike's eyes shoot open, not even bothering to hide his surprised yell, echoing off the roof of the tiny compartment.

"What the fuck?!" Like Billy would answer. He begins to thrash a little harder now, heart rate increasing.

[heroeswork]

Billy leaned back, looking for all the world like a junkie who'd just received that hit they'd been itching for. He played it up, leaning back and letting out a soft moan. "Mmm...that's it...." he breathed out.

In all of the altercations, Billy had nearly lost his hat, pushed back on his head, the bill knocking against the roof of the truck as he sat up. He reached up to pull it free, tossing it to the dashboard.

Settling down, he reached for Mike's legs. Shoving his knees toward his shoulders. Exposing him. All the while watching his face, wondering if he'd put together what was happening. "You've got a choice," Billy said softly. "Behave and I'll make this easy on you. Try to kick me, and you'll make it very, very hard on yourself."

[47redbirds]

That's what he wants? Struggle? Anger? Mike can give him plenty of that, no acting required. Mike's glare is firm, even if his gaze isn't as sharp as it could be courtesy of painkillers.

He saw the other's face, now. A lot better than he had when he'd been too close up or in the shade. Mike made a point to memorize it, taking in every angle, the exact shade of blue, and didn't bother hiding what, exactly, he was doing.

"Fuck you," He states, almost as calmly as the other does before his legs are shoved a second time, pants and underwear still by his knees, and he's twisted. Billy is pushing him back and Mike doesn't bother to hide the wince or how uncomfortable it is, but what he's doing dawns on him. He'd turn pale if he wasn't already, and his eyes almost spark to life for a moment, as if suddenly fueled by something.

Mike isn't scared, he tells himself. He can't be scared,can't afford to be scared, but he can get angry. Don't kick him? Fine. He can, however, spit right in the other's face. One small act of defiance.

[heroeswork]

Billy leans closer, intending to menace Mike further. He can see it, even in the dim light. That spark of fear, barely restrained. Real life peeking through the Oxy haze. Fear. Honest to goodness fear. Just what he needed. But before he could get too close, that spit hit him in the face. He jolted to a stop, his eyes close.

A sneer settled onto his face. Like a fury barely held back. Slowly, he reached up to wipe the spit from his face. And a slow, cruel smile spread over his features.

"Fine," he said with a sense of finality. "Then that's all you're going to get." He spread the gob of spit over two of his fingers as his hand moved down. And without any further warning, those fingers found Mike's exposed backside. Pushing slowly but relentlessly into his hole. Billy had lube. He'd been completely willing to use it. But Mike seemed to have chosen otherwise.

[47redbirds]

Billy hesitates. That's what Mike sees, even if it's false--his slow actions, how the other seems to drag his hands down his face. Mike's eyes narrow, and there's the barest hint of a smirk.

Fuck you, he wants to say. I'm not a junkie and you're not going to get what you want.

Mike, however, wasn't expecting the other's fingers. Some cussing, some slapping, maybe, but he'd never even thought about having sex with a guy, nor had he been inclined to experiment. He's tight enough, but two fingers instead of one and Mike's entire back arches, face filled with pain as those fingers dig further and further. He tries, roughly, to pull his hands away from the door a second time, and it takes three beats of Mike gritting his teeth and breathing heavily before he finally gives in and starts to yell.