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

[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.

[heroeswork]

Billy was going to get exactly what he wanted. He always did. Something Mike would soon discover. He continued to slowly push his fingers in, as deeply as he could. No matter how much Mike tensed, no matter how much is body tried to fight it. He could feel the skin around his fingers, too hot and stretched too far. It was a good thing Mike had pain killers in his system, he mused to himself.

His hand planted on the frame above the window, looming over Mike. Smiling. "It's a good thing you didn't kick," he said casually as Mike yelled. "Otherwise, you'd be dealing with something much larger than this..." He started to move his hand, pumping his fingers ever so slowly. Allowing Mike's body to acclimate.

[47redbirds]

Billy is looming over him, and Mike's back is arched, eyes scrunched as shut as they can possibly be. It fucking hurts, it's not comfortable and all and Mike honestly has no idea why the fuck gay people would do this anyway or why they found it good.

His eyes open, briefly, and all he can see is Billy's smiling face. Mike's upper lip curls into a pained sneer, feeling those fingers inside him. Invading and foreign.

"F--Fuck," He manages, shuddering at the experience. Strange and and something else, all at once. Some of the pain is dulled, of course, but Mike needs a lot more than one pill to get over this. He wants to go back to the treeline, back to the place where it smelled like it was about to rain. With the birds.

Not this.

"Fuck you," He chokes out eventually, once his body slowly starts getting used to what's happening. He's shaking again, nothing to do with the oxy.

[heroeswork]

"That's more like it," Billy said, almost lovingly. He could feel Mike shaking, so desperate and hurting. So scared. In so much pain. Just what Billy wanted to see. For a moment, he seemed to revel in it just as when Mike had fought back after being bitten. Mostly because it seemed Mike hadn't quite realized what it was that was happening to him. Was it that he was refusing to acknowledge it, or had it just not clicked yet? Because with the realization so often came the tears.

He leaned closer, his his shoulders to push Mike's legs closer to the other's chest. Billy's fingers continued to work, coaxing that tender hole to relax and stretch, his fingers scissoring ever so slightly to help it along. "I was thinking the other way around, actually," he said with a smile, to Mike's choked words.

[47redbirds]

"Nnnnh--" Mike tries to get something out. A no, maybe. Or another 'fuck you' before those words really hammer it home. He's been refusing to acknowledge it. Refusing to even entertain the possibility, but those fingers in his hole, loosening him up. Those words.

He refuses to cry. Mike refuses to, plain and simple, and there's still a bit of fight in him. A sharp yank on the door handle again, actually causing quite a ruckus from how he uses all of the strength he can.

This guy, this drug dealer. Colin. Colin's going to fuck him. He's going to be raped on the side of the highway, fucked and used and discarded or worse.

"Stop," He manages. gritting his teeth so hard it's actually painful. "Please. Please--stop. Fuck--" His back arches a second time.

"You don't have to do this." It's more on the begging side this time. More on the desperate side.

[heroeswork]

Billy could hear the soft cracks forming, that edge to Mike's voice. See it in the way he fought. Like that ominous crack that echoed from a tree branch too laden with snow in winter. It had been far too long since he'd seen snow, but he still remembered that sound. Just as it had been far too long since he'd broken someone so strong. But hearing the first signs sent a shiver of anticipation through him.

"You keep saying that like it's somehow going to change my mind," Billy said as though he couldn't believe Mike. Slowly, he started to introduce a third finger. It was a bit too soon, but he doubted Mike would ever really be ready.

[47redbirds]

Lost. Mike's lost this round and he lets out a loud 'fuck,' yelling so it echoes off of the small, cramped car they're in. He can't lose, he has to hold it together, but he's angry.

Surprisingly, he's not angry at Colin. No, he's angry at himself. Angry he can't fight back. Angry there's nothing he can do. Angry he got himself into this position in the first place. It wasn't worth it--not for all the Oxy in the world. Not for all the painkillers.

Mike glares, sharp and defiant, right up until the moment the third finger is added. It's a sensation even the oxycodone can't mask, and his eyes widen, mouth no longer tight and rigid, but instead visibly pained. It's not all physical.

"No more," He manages. Barely above a whisper, voice raspy and low thanks to being choked and how much yelling he's doing.

[heroeswork]

Another shiver. And Billy looks so very, very pleased. Another crack. His free hand moves down to caress over Mike's thigh, teasing and gentle. All the while his other hand his relentless. Slow but unyeilding, as if he really does care about not causing permanent damage.

"But we've only just started," Billy remarked, as of confused why Mike would try to end it now.

Those gentle fingers found their way back to Mike's cock, stroking it firmly now. Determined to tease an involuntary response out of him. "We're not done until you're done. We've got to make sure you're satisfied, too."

[47redbirds]

He may as well have had the drugs thrown in his face again, but Mike doesn't respond with anger. His brows knit, mouth still open, and he looks halfway to being positively wrecked as he looks up at the other's face, his own legs in the air, body straining against the strange position, sweat beginning to bead, and yet he felt cold, still.

"I don't want this," He manages, though the way the other is stroking his cock, the way the other is at a steady pace. Despite the pain, despite the fact that he mentally didn't want it? Physically, he was half-hard despite him saying this. "I don't want to do this--Colin, please. Please stop."

[heroeswork]

"But part of you does," Billy said on a strange, rising note that broke into a small laugh. His fingers knew exactly where to touch, finding just the right spot to stroke. Encouraging that arousal. Coaxing the other's body to betray itself. There was no better show of skill and power.

"When we're through, you're going to see just how much you wanted it." It was one of the greatest lies society had created. Somewhere people got it into their heads that arousal meant consent. That if part of the body was into it, it just be an invitation. One that Billy was so very glad to remind people of. Because when faced with something that truly sickened and terrified them, and still they got aroused, well...rationality had no place in that equation.

[47redbirds]

"I don't--" But his body is saying otherwise, under Billy's hands. It's insane, and part of Mike wonders why, exactly, Billy's good. Because he is, and knows all the right places to stroke and tease. Better than Paige, and that thought alone makes him want to hurl.

He's dizzy, suddenly, and he's fairly certain it's just from the entire experience and not drugs and whatnot--his hips rise despite himself, right into the touch, and he lets out a throat growl, as if reprimanding himself.

"Fuck you," He managed. He's just repeating himself, he knows, but all of this--it's too much to handle, and he lets a gasp out from breath he didn't realize he was holding.

[heroeswork]

Billy just watched, a smug smirk on his lips, as Mike fought and squirmed. He looked so very pleased with himself. The truncated protest, the hissed out words. It had taken so long for the first cracks to appear, but now Mike was crumbling. Rapidly. The right application of pleasure could make anyone weak.

"So you've said," Billy sounded amused. "Maybe another night, I'll let you." For as much as he loved to control others, handing it over sometimes was just as thrilling.

Billy's fingers started to curl inside Mike. Finding that exact, sensitive spot. Watching carefully with each thrust of his fingers. The hand on Mike's cock was one thing, but if Mike had never been with a man, he had no idea with being touched in such a spot could feel like.