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 moved, getting to his feet. Stooping down, he pushed an arm around Mike's torso, getting it under his armpits. "Just lean on me, alright? Most people can't stand after that." His other hand guided Mike's bound hands over his head. "We don't have far to go. Ready?"

Regardless of what Mike answered, he hauled Mike off the floor. He was rather strong. Maybe not as strong as Mike, but stronger than he looked. And he could support a great deal of Mike's weight. He'd carried the man down there from the truck, after all. Once Mike was steady on his feet, he'd lead them into the darker section of the floor. All the while muttering soft assurances, and making sure he didn't go too fast for the exhausted man.

Soon, the wall took a hard left, and he followed it. Just after the bend, he reached out and hit a switch on the wall. Dim lights illuminated, strangely, a bed nestled in an alcove made up to mimic a bedroom. It was all made up with lush sheets and cozy blankets, and what appeared to be a night stand. He led Mike over to the bed before gently lower him on to it.

[47redbirds]

Mike refused, of course, to have to lean on Billy. Instead, he tries to take one step forward because he wasn't 'most people,' he was stronger than that, and instead of proving a point he winds up leaning even more on Billy, temporarily dropping all of his weight on him.

Billy, of course, is able to support him as they make it through the warehouse. Mike, belatedly, thinks of all the places the other could lead him to. An incinerator. A pit. Another wall to be chained to.

Instead, when he's met with more lights, Mike freezes up altogether until his eyes adjust. A bed? A bed room, almost. How much of this was a trick? Some sort of lie?

Before he can protest Billy is leaning him down on the bed and Mike has a terrible realization.

The blankets, the sheets--he's desperate to keep sitting up despite the odd feeling on his ass, but he's not sure he's ever felt things so good. He tries to speak again, tries to encapsulate all of his fear and disgust and absolutely everything, but he only manages to exhale.

"Why did you do that?" He manages, though what he's actually talking about is unclear. It could be a number of things--walking him to the bed. Being kind. Choosing him to fuck with. Getting off on Mike's humiliation. Getting Mike off.

[heroeswork]

Mike extracted himself from under Mike's arms and gave a small shrug. "You couldn't have made it on your own," he said as if the other were only referring to the walk. "And I figure it was better to bring you over here than leave you on that cold floor while I got you..."

He made a sound as if he'd forgotten something. He moved over to the nightstand. Tugging open one of the drawers, he produced a bottle of water. If Mike were to look, he'd see it wasn't the only one in there. He cracked it open as he stepped back over to Mike and offered it to him.

Billy had a whole reason for this. He knew it came across as strange and disjointed. Kidnapping someone then giving them a nice bed to sleep in after abusing the hell out of them. But abuse was the key word. He knew the cycle well and used it to his advantage. Treating someone poorly, physically beating them down, breaking their spirit followed by kindness and tenderness bred the most interesting results. Once which he sought to create in Mike.

[47redbirds]

Water.

Absolutely everything Mike had been thinking about flew out the window as soon as he saw water. So the nightstand had water in it. He could drink it, savor it. Bottled, and that cracking noise makes him visibly react, mouth opening, as if he can already taste it. He grabs it with both hands, eager and hasty, and began to drink it as quickly as he could, chugging it like he's trying to do a keg stand or something of the sorts. He doesn't seem bothered about the water dripping down and covering him with how urgently he's drinking.

Billy had hesitated. Had forgotten. It was a strange reminder that all of this, even this bed, was for Billy's amusement. But what amusement would the other get in taking care of Mike? Mike was... Mike was thinking too much when he couldn't even swallow water right.

Mike stopped, suddenly, only to start coughing and coughing loudly. Too much water too quick, it seemed, and he shook his head, wanting to speak despite his current problem trying to catch his breath.

"No," He mumbles. "Why..Why everything?" He meant sexually, trying desperately to search Billy's face. To find something to satisfy him as he tries not to fall backwards and pass out. It's worse than nodding off on drugs, almost.

[heroeswork]

But Billy was far too good at controlling himself when he needed to. His face was a mask of vague confusion, an eyebrow quirking up at the question. He stared at Mike for a moment as though the question itself were absolutely absurd. The answer should have been obvious. In a way, that wasn't faked. He'd explained it, sort of, that first night in the truck.

He pulled out the handkerchief again, and helped Mike clean off the water that had spilled down his chin and his chest. And now that it was damp, his hand strayed layer to clean off the remains of the mess that had been made before.

"What did I say about talking?" He scolded as he cleaned. "It's a shock you're even upright, still. You need your rest now that you've nearly drowned yourself. But maybe you also need something else..." He crammed the cloth back into his pocket. And from another, he produced something very important to Mike. A singular, round white pill. He held it up for Mike to take. "On the house," he said with a wink.

[47redbirds]

He's killing mike with kindness. There's so much else he wants to struggle to stay awake and get his mind back for, to ask and to figure out and to leave. To try to escape. To try to do something that wasn't being at the mercy of his captor.

That changed when billy pulled out the pill. Mikes demeanor shifted completely--he forgot his raw mouth, the pain, how tired he was.he snatches it, not even bothering to think it's poison or something, and quickly and without hesitation swallows.

He waits. It doesn't take long, even if mike didn't suck off the protection capsule like he usually does. He's sitting up as straight as he can one minute, the next, pure dopamine floods through him.

Relief.

Mikes eyes are closed, now, mouth half open. It looks like he'd just finished the best orgasm of his life as he allows himself to sink to into the bed, enjoying the high.

Oxy. The only thing he needs.

[heroeswork]

As Mike swallowed the pill, Billy reached up to gently run his fingers through the man's hair. Soft and encouraging. As if he weren't feeding a dangerous addiction after spending an hour abusing him. "There you go, just what you needed, isn't it?"

With a light touch, he started urging Mike further back on the bed. So he could lie down. So Billy could get him tucked in. So he could rest. "Just relax," he coaxed. "Close your eyes and enjoy it." He wanted Mike to think that he would be left with the cuffs alone. That he could be trusted in this bed with such minimal restraint.

[47redbirds]

Mike murmurs, sounding almost thankful. He's far too busy with riding the high to care. He feels released, now--uncaged. Metaphorically and physically, now that those restraints were off, only with the cuffs. No more bar forcing him to spread. No more plugs or gags, just water and his oxy.

He actually forgets Billy's there, even though the other's leading him to the bed. He was out of it before but this wasn't tiredness, though that was an element. It's euphoria.

Nothing matters because he's high right now.

[heroeswork]

Once Mike was settled, Billy pulled the blankets up over him. He even lightly caressed the man's cheek, leaning close. Falling just short of kissing him. Everything about his behavior was loving and caring. Even as he moved back to the foot of the bed and nudged up the blankets from that end.

After a moment, he found Mike's foot, tugging it free of the covers. He gently massaged it for a bit, his movements careful and slow. Nothing to disturb, Mike's euphoria. That is, until cool metal closed around the captive's ankle. A cuff just like before, that Billy set to screwing shut the moment he closed it. The chain on this one was slimmer and nicer. Polished and shiny, unlike the industrial chain from before. This one was also longer, giving Mike more range.

[47redbirds]

"Nnnn," Is about all he can manage, and blankets are pulled up and Mike actually forgets that it's Colin doing it, that it's Colin being so kind and nice to him. All he wants to believe the past hour or so had been nothing, just a nightmare from bad drugs and worse experiences with Colin.

He's fine. He'll wake up from nodding off. That's all.

The massaging was nice. Blissful, until he felt cold metal around his ankle. He barely lifts his head, unable to between the exhaustion and the oxy, and mumbles, nearly slurring his words.

"No," He manages. Weak. "No more..."

[heroeswork]

Billy shushed Mike, patting his leg, before returning to the screw. He got it in as deep as he could with his fingers alone. But eventually he needed the small allen wrench to help get it flush. He worked quick and was done in under a minute. "No more," Billy promised, as he settled the blankets back over Mike's legs.

Tucking the wrench away, he crawled up on the bed. He settled down beside Mike, head propped up on one hand, watching him for a moment. His hand reached out, brushing his fingers over the man's cheek. "You just get some rest. I'll be back in a few hours. You'll need something to eat when you wake up, and maybe another pill, hm?" He leaned down and kissed Mike on the forehead. "But for now, just sleep."

[47redbirds]

He doesn't want Billy to come back. He wants to go home. He wants the shackle off. Wants to move his body, will himself to get up and leave. The other was touching him, touching his cheek, and while it wasn't like ecstasy it was definitely close with how sensitive he still was.

"No more," He said again, wanting Billy to promise a second time.

He was too tired to move. To do anything like fight back, even if he wants to. The comforting, warm numb of the oxy, enveloping him. Cocooning him, wrapping him from everything that's bad. It doesn't hurt anymore.

Finally.

Mike's not sure what happens, though. It's either actual sleep or nodding off but regardless, he welcomes it.

[heroeswork]

"No more," Billy repeated softly, leaving off the intended "for now." Mike needed to recover if he was going to break the man all over again. Leaving him to rest, Billy slipped out, flipping off the light as he went. It wasn't pitch-dark, the lights elsewhere in the warehouse providing just barely enough illumination to make out rough shapes.

***

As promised, Billy was gone for several hours. First, he needed to clean up the mess they'd made. That he took his time on, because each aspect was like reliving the associated moments all over again. Picking up the gag, plug and cuffs. Wiping up the floor. Taking the items upstairs to clean them. He lingered over the gag the longest, recalling just how beautiful and desperate Mike looked while wearing it. A drooling mess, still trying to argue. Something he already wanted to see again.

He left the warehouse for a while, getting them food and a few supplies. So when more than four hours had passed, he finally made his way back down into the basement. Two pizza boxes in one hand, and a plastic bag with soda and beer in the other. He stopped at the corner with the light switch and hit it with his elbow. He didn't move closer, taking in the scene. He'd measured the chain to ensure that anyone attached to it couldn't reach him where he stood. "Hope you're hungry," he announced, more cheerful than he'd ever been in front of Mike.

[47redbirds]

He feels like shit.

He's been nodding off, though the majority of that after the first few hours wasn't the exhaustion but instead the drugs. He's splayed out on the bed, head buried underneath a pillow, laying on his stomach despite the hands in front of him--he doesn't control when or how he nods off, the oxy does.

He actually smells the food first instead of what he hears. His head jerks up, instinctively, the moment it registered just what the hell was happening. He's bleary, disoriented, and his shoulders are stiff but he's slept in a bed that was far more comfortable than his own and he's still riding that blissful high. It's dimmed somewhat, but it's still there. Enough that Mike can think clearly.

Or would, if he'd eaten in the past 24 hours. His hair is mussed, but his eyes are surprisingly clear for the usual red-rimmed addict's gaze. Almost immediately, his gaze shifts from the food to the shackle, hands darting for it instinctively even as Billy watches him.

It wasn't a dream.

[heroeswork]

Billy was both surprised and pleased when there wasn't an ambush waiting for him. Mike was still passed out on the bed. It meant that it was possible to completely wear out that impressive physique after all. He'd had his doubts with how much fight Mike had in him after being knocked out.

He seemed oblivious to Mike checking his shackle as he approached the bed. "I wasn't sure of your preferences so we've got the best of both worlds. One with all the meat, minus anchovies, never much cared for those. And one with all the veggies." He opened each box in turn, revealing the contents and dropping a large wad of napkins between them. "We've got drinks, too." He held up the bag before setting it down on the bed. "I'm sure you're starved. Dig in." Then he grinned. "And when you're through, there's dessert." He patted his breast pocket with a conspiratorial wink.

[47redbirds]

There's something about Colin's accent. Thick, musical. Quite lulling, when he's still on drugs. He's come down from the initial high, of course, but it's a pleasant buzz and he doesn't feel any pain save for the stiffness in his wrists and shoulders form how he slept. Not even his ass, thanks to Oxy being a painkiller, or his jaw.

He is starved and he doesn't ask permission, doesn't even think as he dives for the one with all of the meat, grabbing a few napkins and diving in almost immediately once Billy finishes speaking.

He's not an animal about it but he eats quickly, semi holding himself back just as a matter of pride. What little pride he has left, he realizes, as, chewing, his gaze strays to the breast pocket.

Pills.

Where the fuck did Colin even get money for all of these pills, tossing them like candy? Plus, Mike is suddenly aware that both times he's mentioned Oxy, he's winked. He's thinking back to high school science class. Pavlov's dog. The wink, the pill.

Or maybe he's over thinking things. Maybe he's paranoid and mood swinging because of the high. Trying to deal with and rationalize what the fuck is going on. He finally swallows a large mouthful before finally deciding to speak. The shackle on his leg is too strong. He's going to have to try to choose his words carefully, and he needs to gauge Billy's mood.

"How long was I out for?" Not 'were you.' He's not sure if that's too personal yet.

[heroeswork]

Billy carefully sat down, perching on the edge of the bed, the pizza boxes still between them. He didn't seem to think too much about the question or what Mike could be implying. "Four, maybe five hours. Not that long. Oh, here...let me just..." Without really waiting for Mike to agree, he reached forward and grabbed the clip between the cuffs. His movements were smooth, doing what he could to indicate there'd be no ill intent in his actions, as he simply unfastened the clip between the cuffs.

"There you go, that should be easier, now." He seemed completely and utterly at ease. That's because, in a way, he was. Things were going far better than he could have hoped. Mike wasn't lashing out anymore, but he wasn't a broken mess. The oxy could keep him calm, it seemed. And Billy was ever so content to let Mike think this was some messed up attempt at playing house. The bedroom. The food. It was the perfect set up for a psychopath.

As for the pills...well. He didn't exactly pay for them. Part of his operation to position himself as the go-to guy was to ensure the dealers he was connected to had a limited supply so they'd run out and send people to him. It was really just a re-routing of the goods.

[47redbirds]

He needs a chance to either get an allen wrench or a weapon at Billy and either way, he couldn't right now. Mike doesn't like the idea of playing house--makes his skin crawl--but all he needs is for now is to wait for the appropriate opportunity. His gaze moves to the other's breast pocket a second time, and then back up at him.

Mike doesn't flinch when Billy's hand goes to unclip the cuffs. Instead, he steels himself, half expecting the other to haul off and hit him. He's already raring to fight back, apparently, even if he's not actually doing anything. Wait until Billy strikes, or gives him the right moment.

This was stressful. Stressful and nerve wracking but his arms were free to move about and he murmurs something that sounds almost like a thanks before biting into even more pizza. At some point he'd downed another bottle of water, though Mike hardly realizes it. Probably done while half asleep.

"...Are you gonna eat, too?" He mumbles. Still testing.

[heroeswork]

Billy pocketed the clip and seemed to relax even further when Mike didn't attack. So far, the play was working. It continued to work. And Mike continued to behave. He's tense, but not fighting. Has he learned to pick his battles? He doesn't seem resigned to his fate, not entirely. Billy hadn't ruled out a fight entirely, but for now it didn't seem like it would happen.

"Did you think both of these were for just you?" Billy asked with a smirk. "Cleaning up after you works up an appetite." Without anything more, he snagged a piece of the veggie pizza and took a hearty bite. For all the world, he looked completely at ease, completely off his guard. But he was ready. Inviting the attack that he knew was inevitable. Testing to see how tamed Mike was at the moment.

[47redbirds]

Doesn't mean Mike has to bend over backwards to accommodate the other. On the contrary--Mike shot the other a half-glare, just a small bit of attitude that he couldn't resist.

Absolutely. Fucking. Crazy.

He waits, though. Mike waits and waits and he's finished his second piece of pizza, gobbling them up fairly quickly, when he looks over at the other. A quick glance.

And, suddenly, he strikes--as quick as his motor reflexes will allow, one of his hands around the other's throat, the other picking up the slack of the chain. His plan is to wrap it around the other's neck and pull.

He has to get rid of this. Now. He has to get free.

[heroeswork]

Billy went down with the strike. Hard. He dropped the pizza he'd been eating, hitting the hard concrete floor. So very predictable. What wasn't predictable was that hand on his throat. Billy's hands grabbed Mike by the wrist, trying to pry his arm free. It was only because of that he was able to react in time to the chain wrapping around his throat, getting his wrist in between his neck and the chain.

Even with that, he started to laugh. A hoarse, gasping laugh. "If you...kill me...you'll never...get out of here..." His words trailed off with a laugh. Since he had no intent of moving Mike for a while, he'd made sure to leave the tiny wrench for the shackle up with the rest of the toys.

[47redbirds]

It was satisfying. So very satisfying, seeing Billy on the floor, feeling him cave so quickly, so surprised. Mike didn't bother to hide his smile, knowing full well he could just kill him, grab the pills and run. No one would care about someone like this. Some fucking torture dungeon.

Then Colin laughed. He laughed and Mike's satisfied look turned a little more dangerous, a little more wary. Was Colin telling the truth? Was the key upstairs? There was no toolbox. Just pizza and drinks.

Colin was lying. had to be lying. He needed to count on Colin lying if he could get through this. If he hesitated, even once, Billy was going to find a way to fuck him over. Mike just wished he'd had military training like Billy did.

"You raped me," Mike growled, moving himself so he was straddling the other. He was getting emotional given the situation. Killing Colin. Remembering what had happened.

[heroeswork]

That shift in Mike's face just made Billy's smile grow. He could play nice, feign fear and keep their little happy house play going. But why, when he could have an excuse to make Mike cry all over again? Deny him pills until he was shaking and sweating. Until he begged for release and relief.

"Twice," Billy reminded, with twisted glee. His hand balled into a fist, trying to loosen the chain Mike had around his throat. As Mike climbed on top of him, his free hand found the man's knee, pushing up his leg. Proving he was far from beaten. "Don't tell me you're after a little...revenge. Eye for an eye, is that your style? Or should I say..." He rolled his hips under Mike's weight, "Cock for a cock?"

[47redbirds]

Twice. Twice, and Mike's scowl turned into something else entirely, his own face red from the sheer exertion. Trying to cut Colin's air supply, trying to stop him from doing anything. He couldn't grab anything else--not while Colin was trying to get out.

"You'd like that too much, you sick fuck," Mike hissed, grip slackening a brief second as the other rolled his hips, grinding his bare cock against the other's pants. Enough for Billy to press that, if he was waiting. Mike, however, was far too determined to kill him. Certainly not an eye for an eye in that aspect. there was nothing Mike could do to Billy but end his life and to call on Billy's bluff.

[heroeswork]

With the training at Billy's disposal, he could have flipped this around at any time, really. He'd shown remarkable skill already, but now? Now it was just fun. Watching Mike thinking he had a chance. Watching as he tried to fight.

But he did take advantage of that slackened grip. His free hand shot back to Mike's wrist. Instead. of just grabbing it like a desperate fool, as he'd done before, his fingers curled around it. Digging into the tendon with incredible force. Making it impossible to hold the chain. Only then did he start to slowly pull his arm away from his neck, loosening the links.

"What do you think you're going to do, Mikey? Killing me won't erase what's been done. It won't free you. What's a junkie like you going to do with no escape?" He grinned, knowing that both the nickname and the accusation where things Mike very much didn't want to hear.