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 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.

[heroeswork]

Satisfied, Billy clicked off the wand and set it on the concrete floor. He grabbed Mike by the arms, running his hands over them for a moment. The other's arms were just as nice as his legs. Strong, well defined...beautiful. After a moment, he finally unlocked the metal cuffs. He'd made Mike promise to not punch him, but he didn't doubt that Mike would try to escape.

Holding tight to Mike's wrists, he took his foot off the bar and yanked back, hard. To haul Mike up onto his knees. He paused, curious to see what Mike would do. Taking the moment to nuzzle against the other's ear. "Halfway there..." he breathed out.

[47redbirds]

Mike is hauled up to his knees, and Mike feels his entire center of gravity shift. He's hauled onto his feet, though only to his knees, and his hands immediately move in front of him, worried he's going to fall. Everything that Mike does is instinct, pure and natural, despite his unwillingness.

It's the nuzzle that causes his hand to move up. He said he wouldn't fight, but he never said he would resist. He jerks his head sharply away from where the other is against his ear, pulling a hand up to push his face away.

"You're fucking disgusting."

[heroeswork]

Something seemed to snap in Billy at that moment. There was a sudden hitch to his breath, falling just short of a snarl. One hand shot down to grab Mike by the hip, his grip crushing and severe. The other slammed into the back of his neck, forcing him down.

The goal was to get Mike face-first on the floor again, but now with his legs folded under him. Billy pressed close to ensure Mike couldn't sit back up.

"That makes us even," he said, not quite as calm as before. "You're a junkie and I'm disgusting."

[47redbirds]

His hands find the floor again, instinctual and out of need. He immediately moves to sit up, to pull himself away from looking almost prostrate, and he finds himself unable to. Billy has a hold of his back, pressed close, and is honestly surprised when he can't feel the other's dick somewhere, not with how perverted he is.

Maybe that reaction--that snarl--had been something. A button to push. A way to get him off balance. He grunts as he's roughly handled, but focused on the other's voice. Not quite as calm.

"You're more than disgusting," He fights. "Look at what you have to do to get off."

[heroeswork]

Mike had come close to a button. Nudged, but hadn't quite hit it. But hearing the follow up, he relaxed. Mike took it in the wrong direction. Good. "You think that's what this is? That I'm just that desperate to get a good fuck?" He pressed closer to grown the words out right into Mike's ear. "I can have anyone I want, any time I want. And do, frequently." It wasn't false posturing. It just felt...empty when he used usual tactics to lure people in. There was no conquest.

"Now..." he started to explain, letting up his weight a little. But he kept his hand on the back of Mike's neck. "You're going to grab the bar with both hands, or I'm going to introduce my little violent friend to your balls. Do I make myself clear?" To emphasize his point, he cupped the other's sack, massaging it ever so gently.

[47redbirds]

His breath hitches, not out of excitement but out of worry. He's touched, massaged, even, and it didn't even matter that it felt good. What mattered was that Billy was trying to get him to immobilize himself.

..He didn't want the shock, though. That electricity. He's not happy about it--he's got a familiar look in his eyes, his jaw set, and glanced down, heart beat increasing rapidly.

"...Completely disgusting," He mutters, but after a moment of silence and not moving, he finally moves to gran it, having weighed his options.

[heroeswork]

Billy let out a sound of warning, almost a growl, at the word. But unlike Mike, he had restraint. A word he didn't like to be called wouldn't send him into a frenzied rage. Yet.

"There's a good boy..." Billy breathed out, his thumb massaging that ever so tender stretch of skin behind the balls. His touch gentle and almost caring. He pulled back then to act quickly, before Mike forced him to do anything else. The leather cuffs were clipped to the bar. Each to their own ring, enough space between them to make things difficult.

Satisfied, Billy sat back on his heels to examine his work. Getting such an unruly captive into a position like that was quiet a feat. And he looked so lovely with his backside raised in the air like that. His hands settled on Mike's ass, gently caressing him. "...beautiful..." he breathed out.

[47redbirds]

Mike shivers at the other's touch, and that isn't something he could fake--it's a strange mixture of abhorration and pleasure, something he's not sure he can even describe. It's intense, and for some reason the fact that he's showing his ass to the other like this clicks only when the other touches it, almost like he's examining a work of art.

He almost shivers again before glancing down at the rings. Automatically trying to jerk out of them, grunting with the effort--the same motion he did to the wall before his ankle was free.

"It's not. You're fucked in the head," He manages.

[heroeswork]

Billy watched as Mike tried to struggle and the rings held. Good. Mike couldn't escape, couldn't run, and most of all couldn't attack. Which freed up Billy's hands completely. He poked through his tool box for a moment, considering what order to do things in.

"You say that as though it's meant to insult me," he commented as he settled the wand back into the box. "Though I'd much prefer you were. In the more litteral sense, meaning your mouth." He smiled at that idea. Of forcing Mike to swallow his cock until he couldn't breathe. It was such a shame Mike wasn't ready for that.

[47redbirds]

Mike visibly cringes, though he's pleased the wand is back in the box. It's an odd game of give and take, of cat and mouse. Mike doesn't want to relent to anything, Billy wants to break him. It's a fucked up dance, so far, but Mike is doing what he does best: not giving up.

He couldn't attack. Not physically. He closes his eyes, trying to think. Mike can only really taunt right now, and he's not sure getting Billy riled up would be a good idea. Not now.

He isn't afraid of Billy, he tries to tell himself. Mike was raped, so what? He wasn't dead. Right?

His head is still swimming, mostly from trying to process absolutely everything that's happening. His head, too, but that's not because of processing it and a lot more because he's been knocked around a lot today. Fuck.

"You're insane. You're absolutely nuts, you--" He doesn't finish his sentence, grunting in frustration as he tries to pull on the chains again. Nearly uproots himself in the process, face hard and determined.

[heroeswork]

"Careful," Billy warned, "You might hurt yourself." He ignored the taunts. Mike had come close to something that he didn't want to tempt again. Didn't want to risk hearing again. Because things were going so incredibly well otherwise.

Plucking two items out of the box, he moved back behind Mike. "What were we at? Three punishments?" He mused he set to preparing the first thing. A soft click of a small plastic bottle being flipped open could be heard. "I've got a lovely paddle that's gonna turn your ass black and blue. So that's one. But where to go from there..."

Cool, slicked fingers pressed against Mike's raised hole. The initial touch was the only warning Mike got before two lubed fingers pressed into him, slow and steady.

[47redbirds]

"You piece of--" And for a second time, he cuts himself off. It's not because of the paddle, it's because of the suddenly cool fingers near his ass, and Mike instinctively rears up as best as he can, face still on the cool floor until he cranes his neck around in a fruitless attempt to see what's going on. It lasts all of two miliseconds before Billy's fingers are inside him.

He can feel it. He can feel those fingers inside of him, slow, arduous. Torturing. Mike doesn't growl, but he does protest, his groan not one of pleasure, but of very slightly subdued anger. He tenses and that only hurts as Billy pushes into him, and so Mike is trying incredibly hard not to squirm.

Punishments. Like this was a game, like this was just some kinky shit. Mike found his head moving back to earlier, how Billy would just state that Mike was off his meds and paranoid. How no one could help him.

No. No, no. He can do this, he just has to fight it.

[heroeswork]

"Mmm..." Billy let out, savoring the way Mike tensed around his fingers. "Still so very tight..." As he pumped his fingers in and out, slowly stretching Mike, he tried to think over what he had here. Or what he could easily grab.

"I don't think the nipple clams are enough to count as punishment...and you'll be fucked one way or another, so that doesn't count...with how quickly you came last time, perhaps a cock ring..." His eyes lit up and there was sudden excitement in his voice. "Or better yet, the one the've dubbed the nine gates of hell. The pain of that one is so...incredible..." He said it as though he knew just what it felt like.

[47redbirds]

He doesn't bother to hide his breathing increasing, mostly with both frustration and something very very close to fear. His hole is being stretched, and Mike has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from crying out, wishing he was far more number to this pain. Wishing he had more so he could just stop caring.

And then Billy reminds him he came quickly, and Mike tries to jerk his head up to protest but doesn't get very far. Not with his position, ass prostrate, Billy looming over him. He closes his eyes as tightly as he can, breathing out. Ragged and enraged.

"I'm not a toy. You can't punish me like I'm a dog, Colin."

[heroeswork]

"Oh, but that's exactly what you are. A toy. My toy. Not so much into the dog thing, myself." He slowed his hand, thinking over his options. "Dragging you around on a leash...now there's an idea."

Finally, he pulled his hand free, satisfied that he'd stretched Mike out just enough. There was a momentary reprieve as he prepared something. And a moment later, the firm tip of a plug pressed against that hole. Billy had selected it based on Mike's reactions in the truck. Judging it to be just barely within Mike's tolerance. It would hurt like hell getting the widest part in, he assumed. But for now, he just applied a slow, gently pressure, letting Mike accommodate the unyielding rubber of the plug.

[47redbirds]

He grips the bar tightly simply because there's nothing else to grip and his fists have automatically clenched as it gets pushed in, and his toes almost curl at the pressure and trying his damnedest not to show anything. He doesn't want to let Billy know he won. He can't.

His breathing picks up, though. Trying not to think about it only means he's thinking about it even more, and concentrating on the widening sensation and the dull pain it gives him. It gets to the widest part and his toes curl and body grows still with the effort of not saying anything, not making a pained sound despite the fact that it hurts like hell.

It doesn't work once it's the widest part, oh no--he lets out an almost inhuman groan, tapering off into a rather angry sounding growl. A single 'fuck' leaves his lips, unused to anything like this.

[heroeswork]

Once Mike starts actually reacting, it takes Billy all the effort he has not to slam the plug the rest of the way in. He stops entirely, letting it linger. Letting that pain really set in for a moment, savoring those delightful sounds Mike makes. Only then does he push it the final fraction of an inch, letting Mike's body take care of the rest.

"This..." he mused, giving the base of the plug a tap, "is a permanent feature while you're here. Well...near permanent. To make sure you're good and ready any time I need you to be. And to ensure you're properly entertained...." He didn't so much tap the base as press something on it. And the plug set into a soft, subtle vibration.