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 keeps struggling. Certainly not for Billy's amusement, but mostly out of anger and instinct. Billy will never break him. Mike is strong, he just has to find some way to survive like he always has. His hands move up to grab at the bar, trying to force it away, but Billy kept applying more and more force until Mike couldn't breathe in the least, not even a gasp of air here and there. His face was growing red, and suddenly instead of pushing back he just tensed.

The smell was back. His hands curled on the pipe, but instead of pushing away like he had been he simply grips it, neither moving it away or towards. Mike's mouth is open but his eyes are closed, looking almost peaceful despite everything else like his lack of oxygen or his body practically seizing up.

Because Mike could feel it. Mike could feel the moist air from the rain, feel, briefly, the wind on his face. He was back.

[heroeswork]

There it was. That thing Billy wasn't sure he'd imagined. It was subtle, hence why he wasn't sure. But Mike stopped fighting well before most people would. Even in the weaker sort, there was an almost involuntary struggle that came when oxygen was cut off. The body so desperate to get just one last breath that it wastes what it has left in the fight. But Mike stopped well before that would even kick in. And that look on his face.

This wasn't a sexual thing, for Mike. That much Billy could see. It was something different. Something Billy could use. So all at once, he let go. He lifted the bar and stepped back, taking away any and all support from his captive.

[47redbirds]

He just has to figure out what it means, figure out the birds and the forest and why there, of all places, but the sensation was mind-numbing. Tingling, like he craved it as much as he craved food and sleep and oxy.

And all it once, it was gone. Billy lifts the bar and steps back in one swift motion and Mike immediately drops to his knees, ignoring the pain from the warehouse's hard floor. It's hard to feel something so minuscule when your hands are at your throat, coughing and breathing as heavily as he can. He feels nauseous, now, shaking, an one hand moves to the floor as well so he can steady himself.

He was back. Every time Billy choked him, he was back. But why? How could he figure this out if he's stuck in a torture dungeon?

[heroeswork]

Billy took the opportunity of Mike's current state of recover to start putting his plan into motion. He slammed a knee into Mike's back to drive him to the floor. Seeming to not care if the other was injured. Pressing all of his weight down on the man's chest. He could use his new knowledge to taunt Mike, but he decided hold it in reserve. Until just the right moment.

"You know it's true," Billy remarked as he leaned to one side to grab his toolbox. "That you're a junkie, I mean. If you weren't, being called one wouldn't trigger such a...violent reaction." He flipped the latch on the box.

[47redbirds]

Mike cranes his neck, trying to see, feeling like if he sees what's coming it can prepare him. It can take his mind off of the sudden stab of Billy's knee in his back, or the feeling of the other on top of him again.

"Fuck you," He manages, spitting it out in rage. Because Billy, in all of his haughty glory, is absolutely right. One hundred percent, and Mike's not sure what scares him more: Billy being so good at reading people he reads through Mike, or Mike's ability to cover everything up is slipping.

He grunts, trying futilely to push himself up. He only manages to squirm.

[heroeswork]

"The trick is," Billy said as if speaking to a child, "to act as though you don't care. If someone accuses you of something you're not, you know they're lying, don't you?"

He made no attempt to hide what he was doing. From the took box he pulled a simple pair of handcuffs. It wasn't the end goal, but the last thing he needed was Mike taking a swing at him while he tried to get everything in place.

Closing the box again, he worked fast. First snagging one wrist to snap the cuff around it. Sliding himself back so he could grab the other arm. Wrench it behind Mike's back. Very focused, very military. He made no attempt to hide his training. This certainly wasn't the first time he forced cuffs on an unruly man.

[47redbirds]

The cold metal bites down and Mike can feel it snapping around his wrists like teeth. He's still floored. He tries to move free but he can't, and he's pretty good at getting out of cuffs by now. The way Billy does it is very much like police, leaving him to assume he's probably a cop. Or going to be one.

"Like when you don't care that everything you're doing is just because you can't get a guy?"

He can see it. A jilted stalker, a little too crazy over someone. A guy, probably. Someone that had the same build...

[heroeswork]

Billy let out another chuckle as he checked the cuffs to make sure they were secure. It was almost cute the way Mike thought he could turn this around. That Mike thought he knew Billy. He patted the other gently between the shoulder blades. Smiling.

"Oh, I could get anyone I wanted," he said, reassuringly. "But where's the spark if they give in willingly?"

Billy reached to his toolbox, now straddling Mike's hips again, to find the next item he needed. A pair of leather cuffs.

[47redbirds]

He still couldn't see. Not completely, just hear the clinking and feel Billy's weight shift. It's not the violent actions that jar him the most--though they're not without their terrible consequences. It's the soft gestures. The way Billy's thumb touched his cheek earlier. Acting like they were a couple--like this was loving. That's what Mike didn't understand. Didn't want to. For some reason, it made everything worse.

"You rape people because you're sick. Daddy touch you, Colin? Spank you a little too hard?"

[heroeswork]

"Not everyone's got a sob story, Mikey," Billy sounded almost distracted as he inspected the cuffs to make sure they would work. "Some people are just born bad."

In one smooth, graceful move, Billy shifted his position to turn completely around. Lifting himself up and settling back down. He grabbed Mike by one of the ankles, twisting the leg so he could work properly, and set to fixing a cuff around it.

[47redbirds]

There had to be something. Something Mike could use. Billy wasn't an impenetrable fortress. Mike needed some form of leverage, something to get just enough leeway.

Billy moves and Mike tries his damnedest to even attempt to shove the other off of him, but to no avail. Instead, Mike's leg is raised and he immediately thinks of that night in the car.

His legs around his side. How Mike actually came. How Billy of all people had made him. He snarls, still very much like an animal. Some people were born bad?

"And you need help," Mike automatically tries to struggle once it's fastened around one ankle, too. Was there a second one?

[heroeswork]

Once it was buckled into place, Billy simply let go. Unlike the collar, this one didn't lock. His hand free, he let it fall to Mike's thigh, gently caressing it. Admiring the way the muscles moved as the leg lowered. How was a junkie still so incredibly fit? It was a gift from the powers that be, for certain.

"So you've already said," Billy remarked as he went for the other leg. "But I'd really rather avoid that. They tend to be rather severe with the incurable."

Seizing the other ankle, he set to fastening the second cuff around it.

[47redbirds]

There's not much he can do. The second cuff is fastened without that much of a struggle, if only because Mike physically can't. Every time he tries to jerk his hands up to stop him, he's reminded of the cuffs. He grunts with the effort anyway, nostrils flaring, teeth gritted.

Billy was aware he was nuts. That was near sociopathic, and Mike bites back that maybe Billy should just take all the pills he has to lure people in and shove them in his own mouth. Maybe something would work and he'd actually feel something that wasn't getting turned on by the thought of raping other people.

"Colin," He hisses, still unaware of the other's alias. "You need to stop doing this." Billy sounds so bored, so uninterested. Mike is frantically trying to talk his way out of this. It didn't work last time, though. Maybe he was desperate.

[heroeswork]

It wasn't so much that Billy thought of himself as crazy, just that his needs and vices were deemed unsuitable for society. Crazy could be cured. Chemical imbalances, trauma induced psychosis, all of that could be treated. They may as well be trying to "cure" him of his interest in men for how effective it would be. He was careful with who he picked. Never he fragile ones. Never someone who would be missed. Always someone who society also deemed to be "unfit."

He checked the shackle once he had the cuff secure, sliding the metal a little higher on Mike's leg. It wasn't exactly comfortable, but he didn't want to risk Mike trying to run. Using the chain to keep a hold of his leg, Billy snatched up the bar and set to clipping the ring on one end to the cuff.

"Hmm...." He let out, as if actually considering the desperate demand. "You know, I don't think I do. But thank you for your suggestion." Still so bland and calm about it all. With the first cuff secured to the bar, he let go if i and set to attaching the other side.

[47redbirds]

It's some sort of challenge for Billy. Break the ones that need to be broken, or something like that. Except Mike didn't. Mike needed freedom, needed to get out. Away from him.

He wasn't going to break. Not with this shit. He refuses, even though the metal bar is being clipped to his ankles. He feels like an object, not a person, and that makes him even angrier.

He goes back to hurling a few insults, heart hammering in his chest and threatening to leap out of his throat. He can get an idea of what this is now.

"Fuck you, Colin," He hisses. "You're going to get caught."

[heroeswork]

With the bar at last in place, Billy could get off of Mike. He couldn't fight anymore. Especially as Billy planted his foot on the bar. He stood, looking down at his captive with a strange sense of pride. He'd chosen well. Usually by this stage, they were crying or desperately begging for mercy. But not Mike. Mike still had all that fire and passion as though he thought he might actually still have a chance.

"Oh, that's very unlikely." He crouched down, inspecting the metal cuff. Trying to decide if it would get in the way. "That'd require you admitting things you can't even admit to yourself, Mike."

He decided it was safe to remove the chain. From his pocket, he pulled the tiny wrench that served as a key. "You'd need to reveal why you sought me out. Or how I found you again. Otherwise, they're going to start poking a whole lot of holes in your story and suddenly...no one believes a word you say."

Pulling the screw free, he let the cuff drop to the floor. Both screw and wrench went into his pocket.

[47redbirds]

Admitting what? That he had been assaulted in an alleyway? Raped in a van? The pills had nothing to do with it, Mike thinks. He didn't have to admit anything. Colin was full of shit.

The chain, though. Mercifully, it's unlocked and Mike pays close attention to it. Small dog key, it looked like. Not quite an allen wrench--or was it?

He could tell the police a number of things. Of how he was trying to make a citizens arrest. Paint some vigilante story, some undercover story... No. That wasn't solid. Billy was right, they'd poke holes into it. Realize that hid opinion didn't matter. Shit.

The cuff drops to the floor with a satisfying clunk, though, and Mike immediately feels far more free than he had been despite the handcuffs and the spreader bar. He exhales, pleased, and tries to rotate his ankle despite the bar. It doesn't work so well, but the cool air hitting where the metal had been was certainly a treat. He shifts his face so he can look at him. Defiant.

"The more you do shit to me the more evidence there is," He reminds.

[heroeswork]

Billy turned, taking in the bound and prone man on the floor. What a sight he was. Hands slid up over bare calves and thighs, reveling in it. There was nothing timid in his touch, nor rushed. A lover exploring his partner's body as though they'd been apart for far too long.

"Give them all the evidence you wish. Lead them to me." He kept up with that almost bored done, not at all concerned. Before switching to a blatant mockery of surprise and concern. "But officers, he asked me to do that to him. Sure, we got a little rough, but you know how it is. It's his habit, you see. He gets off his Oxy and he gets paranoid." He let out a dark chuckle.

His hands slid up over Mike's hips. Coming together over those ass cheeks. Something he'd not had a good view of in the truck. And what a shame he'd missed it, then. Because that was quite a sight. He dug his fingers in, as though massaging the muscles beneath. "Your word against mine, Mikey," he added, before giving Mike a hard slap across one cheek.

[47redbirds]

Shit. Those touches causes him to grunt, causes him to tense. He can't fight back quite, not with cuffs and the bar. Still, it doesn't mean he's going to submit.

His eyes shut with every touch, every loving movement. Mike massaging his ass causes him to try to move away. It's instinctual, and his jaw is set in a firm, hard line as Billy explores.

He asked him? Is that what Billy wanted to twist it into? some sort of fucked up, bdsm lovers quarrel? Still maintaining that he was some sort of fucking junkie?

The slap across one cheek causes his body to rock, a curse and a small growl coming through his throat as he's smacked. What the fuck was Colin doing?

[heroeswork]

Billy kneaded his fingers against Mike's backside again, before sliding up his back. As his palms glided over Mike's sides, Billy dipped his head down to drag his lips over his spine. Not quite kissing the other's skin, almost as though he were breathing it in. Only when he came to the nape of Mike's neck did his lips full touch.

He pressed the entire length of his body against Mike's, adjusting to straddle his hips again. He nuzzled against the back of his captive's head, right behind his ear. He let out a soft sound, not quite a moan, as he rolled his hips against Mike's backside. Even through his jeans it could be felt just how turned on he was by all of this.

His hand moved up into Mike's hair as he did this, grabbing a fistful and dragging his head back. "Besides," he said, softly, "Who would believe the word of a junkie?"

[47redbirds]

Billy was touching his ass and Mike felt his stomach drop--he knew it. Knew that this was all loving and sexual for him and he didn't need the other's erection on his backside to figure it out. The way Billy was breathing, the way the other was behaving--the soft sound that wasn't a moan and Billy moves his hips and Mike makes a small noise of protest in the back of his throat, especially as Mike's own hair is dragged back and Billy is using one of those fucking voice.

Then he said it. Those fucking words, taunting him with that silvery musical voice. Someone had to believe him. He needed to hold on to that, but his anger overpowers him again.

He bucks his hips, trying to get the other off of him, hands balling into fists in response to the word junkie. That same angry snarl emerging from his throat.

[heroeswork]

Billy let out a triumphant laugh when Mike started fighting again. That singular word had more power in it than even choking did. It was a button he could hit and every time it was like an electric shock. No matter what it would send Mike into a fit.

He pushed back, settling back into a crouch. Making sure to keep his foot on that bar. He didn't want to end up with a foot in his face. "You know it's true. The moment it comes out that you went to me because of Kelly, there goes your whole defense."

He grabbed the tool box again, and pulled out another pair of leather cuffs. With that same, methodical calm he went about fixing them around Mike's wrists, above the metal cuffs that currently held his wrists.

[47redbirds]

There it was again, that voice that was nice and calm. Casual, like they were talking about the weather. Mike wanted to punch Billy now, more than ever. Mostly because it was right. It was all right and they both knew it, even though Mike refused to believe it.

He doesn't fight the wrist cuffs--mostly because he physically can't, and the weight of Billy is keeping him firm and unable to rock back with how he's doing it.

"I'm not a junkie," He manages, trying to keep his voice calm. "I told you, it just helps. You prey on those kind of fucks, and I'm not your type, Colin. You know it."

[heroeswork]

Billy tugged at the cuffs as he buckled them, making sure they were good and snug. The last thing they needed was Mike wriggling free once they got to the good parts. Parts that he was certain Mike would find somewhat disagreeable.

"You keep telling yourself that," he said as he checked the cuffs again. "But you're wrong. On both counts. Junkies are too easy, and they're fragile as glass. The last one I had..." He paused, savoring the memory as it floated to the surface. "A crooked cop in Nevada. He fought until the bitter end, and it was so worth it. He was handsome, too."

Now came the hard part. He needed to uncuff Mike and move his hands around the front. He needed something to distract Mike. He settled back on his heels, looking at his arsenal. "Tell you what, Mikey, if we get through this next bit without you trying to take a swing at me, I'll play nice. But if you do..." He pulled out what appeared to be a glass wand. He hit a switch in the handle and a thing flickered on. He gently touched the tip with his finger and there was a loud TZZAP of electricity. He shook his hand from the pain. "...this gets applied to all of your more tender regions."

[47redbirds]

'He fought until the bitter end.'

He had been killed, hadn't he? Mike clenches his jaw tight, listening to the rest of the story. Unsure if it was true or not but certainly not wanting to find out. It was believable, coming from Billy. The only reason Mike hasn't lost his composure in that sense was because he refused to let himself admit that Billy would even win.

"Don't call me Mikey," He snapped, and tried to square his shoulders, barely listening to the other until he pulled out the wand. He could hear the electricity after the zap, even. The hum of all of the energy it had. If Billy was drawing his hand away from it...

Oh, God. Mike closes his eyes, breathing out. Trying to calm himself.

"Go."

He did NOT want that anywhere near his cock.