Clean
Alex flinched, slightly, as the door opened, and Yassen walked in.
The room was large, and richly decorated, a Victorian era household, and Alex’s bed was a king-sized one in the middle of the wall, headboard and chain-ring nailed right to the wooden paneling, and the door was to the side of the bed.
But still, he could see Yassen, if only out of his peripheral vision, and flinched when the man came in.
He wished he had the strength to sit up. But he didn’t, so he just lay on the bed as his captor, and lover, walked in. He turned his head to face Yassen as the man got closer, but otherwise didn’t move.
Yassen smiled at Alex, softly, sitting down on the edge of the large bed, and reached up to stroke the side of Alex’s face, who, for his part, just shut his eyes and let himself slip into the gesture’s comfort.
“I think you need a meal, Alex,” Yassen said, to which Alex just nodded, again, but did no more. He hadn’t eaten in almost two days – he wasn’t about to jeopardize that that, now.
Yassen had thought ahead, apparently, as almost instantly, a bowl of rich stew appeared on a portable dinner table, the kind used by waiters for large orders in restaurants, beside Alex, and some bread – still warm, from what Alex could tell – was right alongside it, paired with both a bottle of some fancy mineral water, and light, white wine.
“Sit up, Alex,” Yassen commanded, to which Alex nodded and hurriedly sat up, slipping on the silk sheets, but managing to lean back against the plush pillows, rotating the metal collar around his neck so that the chain attached to it would be out of his way while he ate.
“Th-thank you,” Alex said reverently, bowing his head slightly as he said that, and keeping himself well composed and drawn in, despite how much he just wanted to collapse and rot.
“You are welcome, Alex,” Yassen said. “You may eat, now.”
Alex nodded, before reaching out and carefully pulling the bowl of stew towards him, eating it quickly, before Yassen changed his mind and took it all away.
It wouldn’t be the first time.
“Drink,” Yassen said, easily, as Alex finished his stew. Carefully setting the bowl down on the fold-up meal carrier – Alex knew how much Yassen appreciated cleanliness – he mentally weighed very carefully between the two drinks, and quickly had some mineral water, before enjoying some of the white wine.
It was all very top of the range. Just as Alex deserved when he was being good.
Setting down the first glass of wine, Alex pulled the plate of small slices of multiple types of bread and started eating his way through the slices, liking some better than others, but still enjoying all of them.
He was finished soon enough, and set the plate down on the carrier, reaching for the wine.
“Alex,” Yassen said simply.
Alex froze – Yassen’s voice was cold, hard. Oh, no – what did he do wrong, now?
“Look at your lap.”
Alex slowly let his eyes travel downwards, down the top of his silk pajamas, and towards his lap, beneath the exquisite quilt.
The quilt had a few breadcrumbs on it.
Blood freezing, Alex stared at it in horror, before immediately trying to pluck it all up with his fingers. “I’m s-s-sorry, Yassen, I swear, I didn’t mean-”
SMACK Alex had known it’d be hopeless, but he still cried out in shock when Yassen backhanded him, sending Alex off the bed, landing on the plush carpet below him, his landing cushioned by it. He gagging slightly as the collar pressed against his through, chain taut and catching.
Whimpering, Alex stayed where he was. Yassen would choose what to do with him.
“You know how I feel about these things, Alex,” Yassen said, in the tone of a parent after punishing a child. Regretful, but resigned. “If you cannot eat like a civilized person, maybe you’re best sleeping down there like a beast, instead.”
Only barely suppressing sobs, Alex nodded. “Yes, Yassen.”
“You must learn, Alex,” was all Yassen said. Alex heard the small, but multiple, clicks of metal, as Yassen used whatever mechanism it was he normally used, to disconnect the chain from the wall, and curling it around the bedpost, instead, shortening it in the process by wrapping it around, before relocking the chain.
Alex watched as Yassen stood up, and put all the food utensils and the bottles on a tray, and balanced it perfectly in one hand as he folded up the carrier with the other, and placed the tray back on top of it, so he was only using one hand.
“I’m sorry,” Alex said, sitting up, now. But unsurprisingly, Yassen just kicked Alex’s side, so he fell onto it on the floor.
“I meant it, Alex,” Yassen said, coldly, before turning sharply on his heel and walking out the door, making sure to lock it behind him.
Alex finally let himself cry, curling up on the ground and bringing his knees to his chest.
He wanted to go home, so badly.
Except…was home here, with Yassen, or back in England, with Jack and Tom and MI6? He couldn’t remember.
And he hated that.
Here, at least, it was simple. Do what Yassen says, or suffer the consequences. Simple rules to abide by.
It hurt. But it was easier.
~*~
“Alex…” a voice over him crooned.
Groaning, Alex shifted, only to realize he was back on the bed, with a thick, thick towel beneath his body. When did that happen?
“Wha’…?”
“Open your eyes, Alex,” the voice – Yassen – said again, gently, seductively.
Alex nodded and complied, looking up to see that Yassen was straddling him, his knees on either side of Alex’s thighs, and his hands by Alex’s shoulders, holding him up so he was looming over Alex.
Oh.
Whimpering, again, he shut his eyes, as Yassen said, “I thought I would give you the chance to redeem yourself with me,” while lowering himself against Alex.
Alex didn’t respond, still not entirely sure how to, and his breath sped up. That seemed to satisfy Yassen…though if the bulge of hard flesh against his hip was anything to go by, anything would satisfy Yassen.
And if the thrice damned heat in his own groin was anything to go by, that would go for him, too.
Yassen transferred more weight from his knees to his hips, so he was grinding down on Alex, who writhed in response.
“That’s it, Alex,” Yassen said, fingers rubbing small circles down Alex’s chest, burning through the silk top. He stopped and paid some special attention to Alex’s nipples when he felt them, which made Alex shudder, and shut his eyes, relying only on feel.
It was better that way.
Those burning, burning, burning hands stayed there for only a few seconds more, before descending further down his stomach, over his navel, and lingering at his hips.
They went back up, carefully unbuttoning Alex’s silk top, revealing more and more skin with each one, to which Yassen would push it aside to stroke Alex’s body even more, who shivered with each touch, much to Yassen’s delight – and his own.
Very soon, the shirt was off completely, and Yassen was back to being as calm and collected as ever, while Alex, eyes shut, was trembling beneath the man, shivering from cool air and from the warm body above him.
He heard the whisper of metal against cloth, and opened his eyes to see Yassen holding up a knife in the dim lamp light, smiling predatorily at it.
Alex recognized the knife. It was a Fairbairn-Sykes MkII – a combat knife used widely among special forces around the world…including the SAS. Alex had trained with his knife, before – many, many times.
Much of that training time was with Yassen.
“You,” Yassen said, kissing the tip of the knife. “Are mine.”
Alex nodded, slowly, and only then wondered what Yassen drugged him with.
Yassen stuck out the tip of his tongue to meet the tip of the knife, before running the knife up, his tongue sliding down the blade, lubricated with liberal amount of saliva, both sides being slicked, as he pressed down hard enough to fold his tongue, but not enough to slice. When he reached the knife’s base, he simply turned the knife and licked back up the opposite edge, before swirling his tongue around the tip, and holding it out in the light again, the edges’ reflections wavering, now.
He smirked, knowing Alex had been riveted to the sight the entire time. With that, he smiled, gently now, and brought the tip slowly down to Alex’s bare sternum. “ Mine,” he repeated, before pressing down, the knife tip penetrating Alex’s skin.
He hissed sharply, and his back arched, to which Yassen pressed firmly down just a bit above where he was slicing with the heel of his free hand’s palm. “Sois tranquille,” Yassen murmured. Be still.
Alex nodded once, the movement slow and languid, whimpering again as Yassen moved the tip of the blade across Alex’s skin, the boy breathing in sharply as the pain seared his skin.
He tried to look down, but Yassen swatted Alex’s chin, hard, and he got the message – his head stayed up, at all times.
“Keep your eyes on me, Alex,” Yassen said, and Alex did, watching Yassen’s face as he licked the blood off the blade, then leaned down, and kissed Alex, making him taste the salt and iron dripping out of his veins.
Both their lips were red, red, red when Yassen raised himself up again, and he licked his lips, and Alex mimicked his moves exactly, and kept his face absolutely impassive as Yassen lower the knife again.
He jerked at the next slice, and stilled at the rush of endorphins that followed – and went an entirely different direction, thanks to Yassen’s crotch pressed directly against his own.
This time, Yassen raised the slender knife to Alex’s lips, who half-obediently-half-wantonly licked his own blood off the blade. Yassen licked the edges again, and made another slice.
Alex mewled at this one. Yassen licked the blade after brushing the tip gently over Alex’s flushed cheeks.
Within two slices, Alex was writhing at every contact of the cold metal against his hot, hot body. Yassen’s cuts were deep, but they were deliberate – and Alex wished he could look down and see what Yassen was doing, but he knew the consequences, if he did, would be painful.
At the current rate, maybe that wouldn’t be so bad.
Yassen made another slice, a little longer and a bit more to the side of whatever he was carving into Alex, and Alex panted, caught somewhere between pain and pleasure and not knowing which one would be better and worse and not really caring.
With the next few slices, Yassen started grinding down more in time with his mutilations, stroking Alex’s cock with his own, to the point where half of Alex wanted to shove Yassen off and the other half wanted to pull the man down and be ravished right then and there. But either way, he was told to stay still, and he had no choice.
He wasn’t even sure he wanted one, anymore.
Yassen smiled by the fourteenth cut, and ran the tip of the knife suggestively over Alex’s lips, again, before arching his back and leaning down to kiss his chained pet, making sure not to touch their chests as he claimed Alex’s mouth as his own.
Just as Alex started tonguing Yassen in return, starting to appreciate the pain, Yassen pushed himself, smiling and running the tip of the knife across Alex’s neck, the maddening touch making Alex go crazy as the fleeting metal ran right under the metal collar.
“Almost done,” Yassen said, lightly, as if they were talking about something as benign as dinner or chores, rather than him permanently marking Alex.
Breathing hard and heavy, Alex didn’t respond, and just lay there as Yassen dragged the knife down Alex’s chest, next to whatever he carved before.
Alex hissed, again, in pleasure and in pain, as the knife dug in again.
This time, it was only five cuts.
Alex was gasping like a shark in the Sahara by the time Yassen was done. This time, he said so, too.
“Do you want to see what I wrote?” he offered.
Alex nodded, but didn’t move, still focusing on the sharp pains emanating from his chest, and the warm feeling of blood trickling down his sides, and onto the thick towel below.
Yassen’s hand snaked behind his head and tilted his head, so that Alex could see.
There were two Asian characters on his chest. Peering closely, Alex realized he understood them – they were in Japanese, a language he knew fairly well, and Yassen had recently finished learning.
The first was boku – a word meaning ‘mine’, for males. The next one was no, a possessive article. Boku-no.
Yassen had just carved ‘mine’ into Alex’s chest.
Gasping at the realization, Alex’s head fell back onto the pillows.
“Do you understand, Alex?” Yassen asked.
Taking a few deep breaths, Alex said slowly, “Yours.”
“ Mine,” Yassen growled in assent, before pulling off his shirt in a way that both made Alex lustful and terrified, before leaning down, their chests pressed flush together, and claiming Alex’s mouth with his own.
With little other choice – and not sure of wanting to, anyway – Alex surrendered, opening his mouth, Yassen licking his lower lip, before his tongue forced its way in, the action a mirror to what Alex knew would be happening elsewhere between their bodies in a few moments.
Yassen didn’t let go of the knife, but his free hand reached up and with it, he caressed Alex’s face and hair, belying the brutal kisses he laid on his mouth and abused lips.
After another nip and kiss on his lower lip, Yassen pushed himself up and there was blood all over his chest, vaguely in two blobs, for the two characters.
Smirking, Yassen quickly rid himself of his trousers, and as much as Alex was permanently caught between love and hate for the man, there was a not-so-small part of him that could never deny the utter beauty in Yassen’s body.
However fucked up Alex might take the man’s mind to be, his body was simply divine.
Reverently, as if Alex were some precious gift not worth letting go – Alex rather doubted the man willingly would – he carefully slipped off the silk pajama bottoms off Alex’s legs, in a manner that of a child peeling off paper from a present, relishing the anticipation…which was odd, because Yassen has seen and felt all this plenty of times, before, but apparently, he was still surprised, every time…
When they were both naked, Yassen lifted the knife to Alex’s chest again. His eyes widened, but he knew better than to move.
He keened as Yassen dug the knife into the wounds already present, and now Alex could feel the blood pouring out of him…
…a moment later, he realized that was the point, as Yassen started pooling some of the blood in his hand, before reaching down and…stroking…himself…
Alex’s eyes widened as he realized what it meant.
This would be the absolutely weirdest lube he’d ever run into. And considering that bizarre but utterly too pleasant Amazonian fish oil Yassen had once used, that was really saying something.
His breath hitched in shock, before easing again as Yassen ran his hand s up Alex’s over-sensitized sides, taming his agitated pet, still stroking himself with Alex’s blood, as the source, Alex himself, started to feel slightly dizzy. He hadn’t lost that much blood, yet…had he?
The blood loss and hormones and everything else were starting to get to Alex’s head, as he lay there, unresponsive but not fighting, either, waiting for the finger that would prepare him, and everything that would come after.
It never came.
Alex panicked when he felt the head of Yassen’s prick against his pointedly unprepared arsehole and squirmed away.
But his exquisite captor just grabbed the chain of that metal collar and whipped it around so he could hold it down, choking Alex when he moved, further depriving his brain of oxygen and the capacity for coherent thought.
A moment later, that proved to be both a blessing and a curse.
Alex screamed, openly, when Yassen just thrust straight into him, no prep, no easing, nothing – just one straight push, right to the hilt.
Being stretched as such, so brutally and openly, left, in a moment, Alex breathless, completely unable to make his lungs work as he lay there for a moment, impaled on Yassen.
He hadn’t even felt Yassen’s hand fisting his cock, not really. But he could feel himself harden, despite the pain.
Or maybe because of it, which rather frightened Alex even more.
Yassen pulled back until just the head was in, and Alex only barely managed to keep from tensing before he thrust right back in.
But he changed the angle of his hips, and this time, Alex was practically paralyzed in warring sensations, as Yassen rammed his prostate while thrusting into Alex’s unprepared hole, the physical reactions both trying to take over and neither succeeding, his body desperately trying to sort all that out.
Yassen pulled out, and thrust back again. Alex’s back arched up, this time, the pleasure just barely starting to overtake the pain, his body getting used to this violation and opening up to the man.
Yassen rested for a moment, before moving his fist up and down Alex’s length twice more. Alex started panting, again, less from pain and more from Yassen’s ministrations, before Yassen pulled out again, and thrust back in, a few more times, until Alex was mewling and writhing in pleasure, the pain lessened to a degree that now it just complemented the pleasure, rather than overshadowing it.
“Moy,” Yassen murmured. Russian for ‘mine’. “Mien. Wǒ-de. Mío. Boku-no. Mio. Mein…” Every word for ‘mine’ that Yassen could think of, he was using. Only he would be able to drudge up that kind of mental capacity while fucking.
Alex nodded. “I’m...’m...”
“ Mine,” Yassen growled again, letting go of the chain and pinning Alex’s wrists down, now, above his head as he started thrusting wildly, clearly on the brink.
So was Alex.
As he started to lose rhythm in his thrusting, Alex arched into the thrusts, bucking his hips in whatever time Yassen did have, meeting each and every one, skin for skin.
“You’re...mine,” Yassen said, with a biting down as he fisted Alex’s cock, making the teen spy come.
He never quite screamed when he came – more like gasped in shock, his breathing stopped, and his entire world came down to two sensations: one of coming, and the other of Yassen filling him, brutally claiming him.
And Yassen, still unsatisfied, did not yet relent, his thrusts into Alex’s abused orifice speeding up.
“M...mi...”
“Yours,” Alex murmured, agreeing with Yassen.
That drove the man over the brink, thrusting into Alex one last time, and stilling, spilling into Alex, something between a growl and a purr coming from deep within his throat.
Yassen kept himself propped himself up on his elbows, his pelvis still grinding into Alex’s as he barely kept from collapsing on top of Alex.
He shivered, despite being underneath Yassen’s warmth, at the feeling of blood all over his chest, just starting to cool and harden.
Yassen noticed.
His gaze went from being locked on Alex’s lips to the property tags on Alex’s chest.
“Quite messy, isn’t it?” Yassen asked, amused.
Alex nodded, eyes drooping.
But they widened against when he felt somewhat warm and wet by his navel, and looked to see Yassen’s tongue there...licking off the blood.
He slowly trailed up Alex’s chest, taking all that thin trickle of blood with him, before reaching the cuts. He almost touched the just-starting-to-scab cuts, but not quite.
There, Yassen angled himself so he could reach Alex’s right side, and started licking the blood off that part of his chest, whatever little he didn’t get from using as lube. When Alex’s right side was clean, Yassen cleaned off the left.
He still hadn’t touched the actual cuts, though he’d gotten close, and all his movements made Alex feel that Yassen was still inside Alex’s well-used-and-abused hole.
And he could feel Yassen hardening again.
Yassen...and himself.
Alex gasped and writhed once he felt that sinful tongue on his left nipple, his movement making his entire body move on Yassen’s member.
The assassin moved his tongue under the Japanese characters – taking the long way across the smooth expansion of pectoral muscle and gave a much similar treatment to Alex’s other nipple, as well.
“Yasss...Yassen!” Alex gasped out, which made the man twist his hips but no more as he finally, finally ran his tongue over his marks on Alex’s body, cleaning the slightly-pooled blood there, and soothing away the slight burn.
Alex moaned, marvelling at the fact he had any blood left to become hard, and Yassen, finishing up cleaning up Alex, looked down at where their bodies were joined and smirked.
“Still quite dirty, though, aren’t we?”
And with that, he pulled out.
Alex cried out at losing the feeling of Yassen inside him, but gasped gutturally when the man’s tongue replaced his cock, as he apparently cleaned up all the blood.
The man held Alex down by the hips with a strong, bruising grip, and continued to torture the teen spy, before he moved slowly up, towards Alex’s shaft, and when he reached Alex’s balls, his mouth left again.
Yassen’s lips wrapped around Alex’s head, and Alex could hold himself back no more, despite having previously come hard enough for there to not possibly be anything left.
His own movements created the bruises on his hips as Yassen kept him from arching up as he came, again, the assassin swallowing every single last drop.
Panting as he came down, Alex was unsurprised to see Yassen standing up and walking on his knees up Alex’s slowly-calming body.
His cock was completely red, from Alex’s blood, and very hard and swollen, and magnificent in size.
He threaded his hands through Alex’s hair, before clutching sharply and pulling back. Already knowing what Yassen wanted, Alex opened his mouth invitingly, and Yassen took it.
The scent of blood and musk was overwhelming as Yassen thrust right into Alex’s mouth, and held there, leaving Alex’s cheeks to hollow as he sucked with vigor, using his tongue to clean away the blood and sweat and whatever the hell else was on there from Alex’s arse.
Yassen, on his part, had far more stamina than Alex, lasting for…for…well, long enough for his entire prick, impressive size and all, to be cleaned by Alex, completely, of blood, sweat, and cum.
Just in time for Yassen to come straight down Alex’s throat, far enough down that Alex barely had to put his swallowing muscles to work, though his tongue still kept going at cleaning Yassen.
The man was still groaning when he pulled out of Alex’s mouth.
“That, Alex, was wonderful,” he said absently, an almost dreamy look on his face, gaze locked on to Alex’s chest, as he lay down beside the boy, clearly intending on sleeping here, right on top of the collar’s chain.
“Goodnight, Alex,” Yassen said, with a tired but commanding tone of voice, fully sated.
Alex turned and snuggled into Yassen’s warm, strong chest, and the man wrapped his arms around Alex, protecting what was his.
“Goodnight, Yassen.”
~*~
He didn’t know how long it’s been since that night. But it’s been quite a while.
Alex heard some explosions and gunshots in the distance, and backed himself against the headboard, into the nest of pillows, and pulled the chain out in front of him, letting it drape over his knees and feet as he tugged some pillows around him.
He looked up as he heard heavy thuds outside his room, but frowned as he realized that it was too many to be Yassen-
BANG
Someone was trying to break open the door.
BANG
Alex’s eyes widened, trying to remembered what this house’s schematics, were, from when he’d tried to break in months ago-
BAN-CRASH
The door flew right off its hinges, and four bulky and painfully familiar men came in, holding up guns, before lowering them when they saw Alex.
“Cub?”
The K-Unit stared at Alex in horror, especially the chain, before they all snapped up as Yassen materialized from the shadows.
“Get away from him,” he said, softly, and Alex just winced, though he wasn’t sure who or what for. “He is mine.”
That possessive tone sent shivers down Alex’s spine, both good and bad. With a sharp breath, he backed up into the bed again, until his head hit the headboard. Everyone’s eyes glanced at him, but not for long, as Wolf turned to Yassen and said, “We have the option of bringing you in alive, Gregorovich – but it’s not a requirement. Stand down, though, and we’ll-”
Yassen had a handgun in an instant, and was firing at the K-Unit, but they were all damn well trained, and none of the rounds hit them.
But Yassen was well trained, too. The gun was literally shot out of his hand, and he had the K-Unit in direct combat instantly, felling Snake with a few quick blows, before he was facing the other three head on, all of their guns off to the side – out of Yassen’s reach, and out of theirs.
Alex just backed away from them all, now more across the bed than anything else.
The room was very large – not that Alex got to experience that first hand very often – and the K-Unit were using that to their advantage, trying to corner Yassen, though the assassin escaped every time.
In the end, it was Snake – he hadn’t dropped his gun, and simply shot between Wolf’s legs from the ground, hitting Yassen’s hip. As the man screamed, he tried to keep fighting, but even he was human, and he had his limits.
Wolf finished it with one bullet to Yassen’s head.
Alex keened, and they all stared at him as Snake pushed himself up, slowly.
“Oh, god,” Wolf said, coming closer. “What’d he do to you?”
As Wolf approached, Alex scrambled back on the bed again, which made them all pause.
“You heard how long he’s been here in the briefing,” Snake said quietly, despite all the noise going on outside, while Alex continued to stare at Yassen’s body. “He’s not going to be…he’ll be…”
“Cub?” Wolf asked him directly. But Alex didn’t listen, didn’t hear, because a pool of blood was staining the floor underneath Yassen his head, and his hip. And it was growing, and Yassen wasn’t moving, he should be moving, right now, getting up and killing them…and cleaning up that blood. He hated anything getting dirty or messy, and he would’ve hated those blood stains – they were getting everywhere…
“All right,” someone near him said. They were all near him, now, and they would get the bed dirty.
“Cub, we’re getting you out of here,” Wolf said, kneeling on the bed.
Out?
Out?
Whimpering, he clutched his head and scrambled away, from the mess, from all the soot and smoke and explosions. That was going to get everywhere.
“Cub?” Another one of those voices asked unsurely.
“Cut that chain!” Fox yelled. “Goddamn, I’m getting sick looking at it!”
“What about the collar?” Eagle asked, holding out a lock cutter.
“We don’t have anything for that here,” Fox said, looking out the doorway. “Move it – the medical chopper’s landing. We gotta get him on, fast.”
Clink
Alex’s head snapped over, eyes wide. The chain was…everywhere. Eagle’d had to cut it so messily, and flakes of metal were all over the bed, in the folds of the sheets, the blanket…
Now he was in the other direction, away from the chain, until he realized that doing so put him in Wolf’s direction and goddamn, why was there nowhere to go?
“What’s wrong?” One of them asked. Alex had shut his eyes and clamped his hands over his ears, he wasn’t here, he wasn’t here, he wasn’t anywhere-
“He’s been in here for almost two months,” another one said. “What the fuck do you think’s wrong? Just grab him and let’s go!”
One of them put a hand on his shoulder.
Alex jerked away and backed into the headboard, still not seeing or hearing anything, kicking out at the next hand, and the next, and please, Yassen, stop, stop-
“Stop!”
“This isn’t working,” one of the voices said, gruff and concerned and that didn’t work, either.
“Tranq him,” someone said.
“We can’t just sedate him! We-”
“-don’t have any other options!”
“NO!” Alex yelled, because everything was always worse when he couldn’t fight back, Yassen would be so mad, so mad, and damnit, he just wanted to reach over and…and…
“Yassen…” he moaned, as he felt something pinch his neck.
He moaned again as he was lifted up, and looked around for a familiar face, a comforting one, reaching his hand out for Yassen.
“What the…the kid actually wants the guy?”
There was a large pause, before one of them said, “Like I said, months. Stockholm’s Syndrome, probably.”
“Oh, shit. Poor kid…even he didn’t deserve it.”
Alex tried to shove at the chest that was holding him, but damnit, his arms wouldn’t move, and he tried to just get out of the grip, get away, get back to Yassen-
“Damnit! The kid won’t hold still.”
“I thought you tranq’d him!”
“Half a dose-”
“Give him the rest!”
And there was another pinch, and more smoke, and the last thing he saw was Yassen’s body.
The last thing he heard was the man’s name on his own lips.
~*~
“C’mon, we’ve been delayed long enough, already – the dose isn’t going to hold Cub down for much longer!”
“There’s still too much open fire – we can’t get there just yet.”
“Well figure out a way there – I don’t know what’s wrong with the kid but he’s not right.”
A pause, and someone asked, “How much time ‘til the firing’s cleared?”
“About five minutes, give or take a minute or two, depending on how long the others take.”
“I’m checking him now,” someone said, and Alex felt a lot of moment, then going from someone’s arms to the floors, and someone was unbuttoning the shirt, and no, no, no, they couldn’t have him!
But his body wasn’t working, and he may have shivered as he was hit by the cold air, but if he did, it was lost amid the sharp intakes of breath as his shirt was pushed aside.
“Jesus fucking Christ, what is that?”
“I don’t know-”
“ You’re MI6!”
“I’m not an international linguist! I’m our unit’s linguist. All I can say for sure is that it’s probably Japanese.”
“It looks…look, the skin abrasions are old – but the scabs are fresh.”
“Whatever it is, it’s been carved into him, repeatedly.”
“Oh, god…”
There was more silence – relatively speaking, as there was still gunfire in the background, and where the hell were they, even? – before he felt some probing fingers that did not belong there groping over his chest and arms.
“Something’s off about the ribs, and I don’t like some of these bruises, but nothing seems to be critical damage.”
“I don’t think it’s his body we have to worry about.”
“Of course it’s not his body we have to worry about! But it’s the only thing we can take care of, right now! If I can-”
“Wolf, calm down,” Ben – Fox? – said sternly.
“Cub-”
“Jason!” Ben said sternly.
“What’s with you suddenly using my real name, hm?”
“It got you to shut up. Just take care of what you can, and let MI6 deal with the rest.”
“They’ve done a piss poor job so far, leaving him here to rot until it suited them.”
“They have him now-”
“Fuck them.”
“You can’t – they’re the only ones who’ll be able to offer an inkling of help for Alex.”
“…I know. I…I know.”
“It scares me, too.”
“I hate it.”
“I do, too. Now fix his ribs, his shirt, and we can get him back to the chopper.”
Wolf, apparently, complied, and Alex felt himself being bodily lifted, again, and protested, desperately trying to move.
“How strong was the dose?”
“Full syrette!”
“Well it wasn’t strong enough!”
There were pounding footsteps from somewhere, and Alex heard someone yell, “How is he?”
“Fine, but the tranq’s wearing off.”
“But-”
“This kid’s prolly been drugged to hell and back. He’d be resistant, now-”
“Lemme go…”
The four men’s commotion stopped at that slurred plea from the charge in their arms, and Alex wondered, vaguely, just how out of it he looked. But that didn’t matter – he had to get back to Yassen. Now.
“No can do, Cub,” one of them – Eagle? – said. “Get him in the chopper!”
Then there was jerking and flailing and Alex knew without a doubt he was getting farther and farther from Yassen, and tried again to push away, just as he felt a jump , a rattling landing, and heavy vibrations as Wolf held on to him.
“What’s wrong with him?” Snake, maybe. The bastard who killed Yassen.
“I don’t know!” Wolf answered.
“You’re the bloody medic-”
Alex pushed away, and managed to open his eyes, this time, to see Wolf and Snake standing over him.
Snake.
In his mind’s eye, all he saw was the man shooting Yassen and debilitating…and Wolf shooting Yassen and killing him.
They killed Yassen.
That was all he could think.
“You…killed…Yassen…” Alex growled, barely, through the horrible fog over his brain, desperately trying to claw his way through it.
“Kid, you’re safe-”
“You killed him!”
And the fog turned red.
~*~
Beep
“How is he?”
Beep
“His ribs are healing nicely, Miss Starbright.”
Beep
“And…his neck?”
Beep
“The scars will fade, with time. But he will need to get MI6’s high-tech plastic surgery for them to disappear completely.”
Beep
“Thank you, Mr. Daniels-”
“Please, it’s Ben.”
Beep
“Then I’m Jack. His…everything. Family. I’m all he has.”
Beep
“Ben, how do you…?”
Beep
“I work as a sort of liaison between MI6 and the SAS. I go in asan SAS, on behalf of MI6.”
Beep
“Where did the scars on his neck come from?”
Beep
“He was…chained…to the bed. Had a metal collar.”
Beep
“Oh, god…he was…no! But…I heard…from that Wolf guy-”
Beep
“-that he was living in luxury? Yea – he was sitting in a bed of kings, but he was still chained to it like a dog.”
Beep
“They wouldn’t give me the details of what happened to him.”
Beep
“Physically, two broken ribs, lots of bruises, a few whip marks, lacerations – probably a knife – and malnutrition and dehydration.”
Beep
“…physically?”
Beep
“He suffered a lot of sexual abuse – he was raped repeatedly during his capture.”
Beep
“Oh, god, Alex!”
Beep
“And...”
Beep
“And?! There’s more?!”
Beep
“He probably has Stockholm’s Syndrome.”
Beep
“What?”
Beep
“As we were leaving, he kept trying get back to his captor. On the chopper, he attacked us for killing him.”
Beep
“Who was it? The captor?”
Beep
“International assassin…named Yassen Gregorovich.”
Beep
“I know him.”
Beep
“ Ben, what happened to Alex’s head?”
Beep
“Er…as we were leaving…we were carrying him into the Chopper, as it was rising, and-”
Beep
“-he said he wanted to get back to Yassen, and kicked his way off-”
Beep
“-and fell about three meters to the ground – concrete. Head took a nasty hit.”
Beep
“Will he ever wake up?”
Beep
“I don’t know, Jack.”
Beep
“He’s taken worse hits, before!”
Beep
“Jack…I think…I think that this time, he doesn’t want to wake up.”
Beep
“He’s never waking up, is he?”
Beep
“Well…”
Beep
“Ben, we can…we can hope for it, right? That he’ll wake up ?”
Beep
“For his sake…for his sake, I hope he doesn’t.”
Beep
~*~
Alex took the last spoonful of soup and set the spoon down carefully, just as Yassen liked it, before he looked up, hesitantly. Jack never had rules, and now things were confusing.
Well, she liked clean dishes, and Alex hated anything dirty, so maybe he should start there.
With a new goal in mind, Alex pushed himself, concealing all signs of pain from the pressure on the broken rib, and washed the bowl and spoon, dried them, and put them back in the cabinet, just as Jack walked back in, hanging up the phone after wishing her brother well.
“I could’ve done that, Alex,” she said, smiling. “But thank you.”
Alex nodded.
“Anyway, I was thinking we should go to the park – they’ve got this new expansion thingy, completely revitalized, and I thought it would be good for you to go outside some more, and your shrink agreed with me, actually…”
As Jack prattled on and on about the park, Alex walked over and hesitantly reached out for his coat, before looking back at Jack, who smiled and nodded.
Pulling it on, they stepped out in the chilly, late fall air. Alex shied away from Jack immediately, knowing she liked to put her arms around his shoulders.
He was Yassen’s. Only Yassen could touch him.
He gently splayed his hand across his chest.
He was Yassen’s. And Yassen was going to have him back, soon enough.
~*~
It was the Vicodin Alex had stored up over his years with MI6, for the most.
He used to hate the haze that the meds would put on him – reminding him harshly of the fog on his mind from the tranquilizers from when they took him from Yassen – and only took them when the pain became unbearable. Otherwise, he kept them.
Now, he had four different bottled, all half filled with pain medications, three of them Vicodin and one codeine, sitting on his nightstand as he sat on his perfectly made bed.
Very clean, very efficient.
He smiled as he picked up the wine on the table – it was the same kind Yassen had given Alex that day, that night, that he marked Alex as his.
Pouring it into the crystal glass, Alex opened the first bottle and started making his way steadily through it, swallowing two or three pills at a time, downing it with the wine.
The first bottle had about a dozen pills, which he worked through fast, not even taking a minute to get through it.
The next one had about fifteen, the codeine twenty, and the last Vicodin had another dozen and half in it. Swallowing as many at a time as he could, Alex was through all of them in less than ten minutes. He finished the rest of the wine, too, quickly, but elegantly.
This would be a clean death.
Laying back on the bed, the sun shining on his face through the open window, Alex finished the last of the wine, before looking at the sky one last time, and shutting his eyes as he leaned back against the bed.
“I’m coming, Yassen,” he murmured. “And I’m still yours.”
~*~
The room was large, and richly decorated, a Victorian era household, and Alex’s bed was a king-sized one in the middle of the wall, headboard and chain-ring nailed right to the wooden paneling, and the door was to the side of the bed.
But still, he could see Yassen, if only out of his peripheral vision, and flinched when the man came in.
He wished he had the strength to sit up. But he didn’t, so he just lay on the bed as his captor, and lover, walked in. He turned his head to face Yassen as the man got closer, but otherwise didn’t move.
Yassen smiled at Alex, softly, sitting down on the edge of the large bed, and reached up to stroke the side of Alex’s face, who, for his part, just shut his eyes and let himself slip into the gesture’s comfort.
“I think you need a meal, Alex,” Yassen said, to which Alex just nodded, again, but did no more. He hadn’t eaten in almost two days – he wasn’t about to jeopardize that that, now.
Yassen had thought ahead, apparently, as almost instantly, a bowl of rich stew appeared on a portable dinner table, the kind used by waiters for large orders in restaurants, beside Alex, and some bread – still warm, from what Alex could tell – was right alongside it, paired with both a bottle of some fancy mineral water, and light, white wine.
“Sit up, Alex,” Yassen commanded, to which Alex nodded and hurriedly sat up, slipping on the silk sheets, but managing to lean back against the plush pillows, rotating the metal collar around his neck so that the chain attached to it would be out of his way while he ate.
“Th-thank you,” Alex said reverently, bowing his head slightly as he said that, and keeping himself well composed and drawn in, despite how much he just wanted to collapse and rot.
“You are welcome, Alex,” Yassen said. “You may eat, now.”
Alex nodded, before reaching out and carefully pulling the bowl of stew towards him, eating it quickly, before Yassen changed his mind and took it all away.
It wouldn’t be the first time.
“Drink,” Yassen said, easily, as Alex finished his stew. Carefully setting the bowl down on the fold-up meal carrier – Alex knew how much Yassen appreciated cleanliness – he mentally weighed very carefully between the two drinks, and quickly had some mineral water, before enjoying some of the white wine.
It was all very top of the range. Just as Alex deserved when he was being good.
Setting down the first glass of wine, Alex pulled the plate of small slices of multiple types of bread and started eating his way through the slices, liking some better than others, but still enjoying all of them.
He was finished soon enough, and set the plate down on the carrier, reaching for the wine.
“Alex,” Yassen said simply.
Alex froze – Yassen’s voice was cold, hard. Oh, no – what did he do wrong, now?
“Look at your lap.”
Alex slowly let his eyes travel downwards, down the top of his silk pajamas, and towards his lap, beneath the exquisite quilt.
The quilt had a few breadcrumbs on it.
Blood freezing, Alex stared at it in horror, before immediately trying to pluck it all up with his fingers. “I’m s-s-sorry, Yassen, I swear, I didn’t mean-”
SMACK Alex had known it’d be hopeless, but he still cried out in shock when Yassen backhanded him, sending Alex off the bed, landing on the plush carpet below him, his landing cushioned by it. He gagging slightly as the collar pressed against his through, chain taut and catching.
Whimpering, Alex stayed where he was. Yassen would choose what to do with him.
“You know how I feel about these things, Alex,” Yassen said, in the tone of a parent after punishing a child. Regretful, but resigned. “If you cannot eat like a civilized person, maybe you’re best sleeping down there like a beast, instead.”
Only barely suppressing sobs, Alex nodded. “Yes, Yassen.”
“You must learn, Alex,” was all Yassen said. Alex heard the small, but multiple, clicks of metal, as Yassen used whatever mechanism it was he normally used, to disconnect the chain from the wall, and curling it around the bedpost, instead, shortening it in the process by wrapping it around, before relocking the chain.
Alex watched as Yassen stood up, and put all the food utensils and the bottles on a tray, and balanced it perfectly in one hand as he folded up the carrier with the other, and placed the tray back on top of it, so he was only using one hand.
“I’m sorry,” Alex said, sitting up, now. But unsurprisingly, Yassen just kicked Alex’s side, so he fell onto it on the floor.
“I meant it, Alex,” Yassen said, coldly, before turning sharply on his heel and walking out the door, making sure to lock it behind him.
Alex finally let himself cry, curling up on the ground and bringing his knees to his chest.
He wanted to go home, so badly.
Except…was home here, with Yassen, or back in England, with Jack and Tom and MI6? He couldn’t remember.
And he hated that.
Here, at least, it was simple. Do what Yassen says, or suffer the consequences. Simple rules to abide by.
It hurt. But it was easier.
~*~
“Alex…” a voice over him crooned.
Groaning, Alex shifted, only to realize he was back on the bed, with a thick, thick towel beneath his body. When did that happen?
“Wha’…?”
“Open your eyes, Alex,” the voice – Yassen – said again, gently, seductively.
Alex nodded and complied, looking up to see that Yassen was straddling him, his knees on either side of Alex’s thighs, and his hands by Alex’s shoulders, holding him up so he was looming over Alex.
Oh.
Whimpering, again, he shut his eyes, as Yassen said, “I thought I would give you the chance to redeem yourself with me,” while lowering himself against Alex.
Alex didn’t respond, still not entirely sure how to, and his breath sped up. That seemed to satisfy Yassen…though if the bulge of hard flesh against his hip was anything to go by, anything would satisfy Yassen.
And if the thrice damned heat in his own groin was anything to go by, that would go for him, too.
Yassen transferred more weight from his knees to his hips, so he was grinding down on Alex, who writhed in response.
“That’s it, Alex,” Yassen said, fingers rubbing small circles down Alex’s chest, burning through the silk top. He stopped and paid some special attention to Alex’s nipples when he felt them, which made Alex shudder, and shut his eyes, relying only on feel.
It was better that way.
Those burning, burning, burning hands stayed there for only a few seconds more, before descending further down his stomach, over his navel, and lingering at his hips.
They went back up, carefully unbuttoning Alex’s silk top, revealing more and more skin with each one, to which Yassen would push it aside to stroke Alex’s body even more, who shivered with each touch, much to Yassen’s delight – and his own.
Very soon, the shirt was off completely, and Yassen was back to being as calm and collected as ever, while Alex, eyes shut, was trembling beneath the man, shivering from cool air and from the warm body above him.
He heard the whisper of metal against cloth, and opened his eyes to see Yassen holding up a knife in the dim lamp light, smiling predatorily at it.
Alex recognized the knife. It was a Fairbairn-Sykes MkII – a combat knife used widely among special forces around the world…including the SAS. Alex had trained with his knife, before – many, many times.
Much of that training time was with Yassen.
“You,” Yassen said, kissing the tip of the knife. “Are mine.”
Alex nodded, slowly, and only then wondered what Yassen drugged him with.
Yassen stuck out the tip of his tongue to meet the tip of the knife, before running the knife up, his tongue sliding down the blade, lubricated with liberal amount of saliva, both sides being slicked, as he pressed down hard enough to fold his tongue, but not enough to slice. When he reached the knife’s base, he simply turned the knife and licked back up the opposite edge, before swirling his tongue around the tip, and holding it out in the light again, the edges’ reflections wavering, now.
He smirked, knowing Alex had been riveted to the sight the entire time. With that, he smiled, gently now, and brought the tip slowly down to Alex’s bare sternum. “ Mine,” he repeated, before pressing down, the knife tip penetrating Alex’s skin.
He hissed sharply, and his back arched, to which Yassen pressed firmly down just a bit above where he was slicing with the heel of his free hand’s palm. “Sois tranquille,” Yassen murmured. Be still.
Alex nodded once, the movement slow and languid, whimpering again as Yassen moved the tip of the blade across Alex’s skin, the boy breathing in sharply as the pain seared his skin.
He tried to look down, but Yassen swatted Alex’s chin, hard, and he got the message – his head stayed up, at all times.
“Keep your eyes on me, Alex,” Yassen said, and Alex did, watching Yassen’s face as he licked the blood off the blade, then leaned down, and kissed Alex, making him taste the salt and iron dripping out of his veins.
Both their lips were red, red, red when Yassen raised himself up again, and he licked his lips, and Alex mimicked his moves exactly, and kept his face absolutely impassive as Yassen lower the knife again.
He jerked at the next slice, and stilled at the rush of endorphins that followed – and went an entirely different direction, thanks to Yassen’s crotch pressed directly against his own.
This time, Yassen raised the slender knife to Alex’s lips, who half-obediently-half-wantonly licked his own blood off the blade. Yassen licked the edges again, and made another slice.
Alex mewled at this one. Yassen licked the blade after brushing the tip gently over Alex’s flushed cheeks.
Within two slices, Alex was writhing at every contact of the cold metal against his hot, hot body. Yassen’s cuts were deep, but they were deliberate – and Alex wished he could look down and see what Yassen was doing, but he knew the consequences, if he did, would be painful.
At the current rate, maybe that wouldn’t be so bad.
Yassen made another slice, a little longer and a bit more to the side of whatever he was carving into Alex, and Alex panted, caught somewhere between pain and pleasure and not knowing which one would be better and worse and not really caring.
With the next few slices, Yassen started grinding down more in time with his mutilations, stroking Alex’s cock with his own, to the point where half of Alex wanted to shove Yassen off and the other half wanted to pull the man down and be ravished right then and there. But either way, he was told to stay still, and he had no choice.
He wasn’t even sure he wanted one, anymore.
Yassen smiled by the fourteenth cut, and ran the tip of the knife suggestively over Alex’s lips, again, before arching his back and leaning down to kiss his chained pet, making sure not to touch their chests as he claimed Alex’s mouth as his own.
Just as Alex started tonguing Yassen in return, starting to appreciate the pain, Yassen pushed himself, smiling and running the tip of the knife across Alex’s neck, the maddening touch making Alex go crazy as the fleeting metal ran right under the metal collar.
“Almost done,” Yassen said, lightly, as if they were talking about something as benign as dinner or chores, rather than him permanently marking Alex.
Breathing hard and heavy, Alex didn’t respond, and just lay there as Yassen dragged the knife down Alex’s chest, next to whatever he carved before.
Alex hissed, again, in pleasure and in pain, as the knife dug in again.
This time, it was only five cuts.
Alex was gasping like a shark in the Sahara by the time Yassen was done. This time, he said so, too.
“Do you want to see what I wrote?” he offered.
Alex nodded, but didn’t move, still focusing on the sharp pains emanating from his chest, and the warm feeling of blood trickling down his sides, and onto the thick towel below.
Yassen’s hand snaked behind his head and tilted his head, so that Alex could see.
There were two Asian characters on his chest. Peering closely, Alex realized he understood them – they were in Japanese, a language he knew fairly well, and Yassen had recently finished learning.
The first was boku – a word meaning ‘mine’, for males. The next one was no, a possessive article. Boku-no.
Yassen had just carved ‘mine’ into Alex’s chest.
Gasping at the realization, Alex’s head fell back onto the pillows.
“Do you understand, Alex?” Yassen asked.
Taking a few deep breaths, Alex said slowly, “Yours.”
“ Mine,” Yassen growled in assent, before pulling off his shirt in a way that both made Alex lustful and terrified, before leaning down, their chests pressed flush together, and claiming Alex’s mouth with his own.
With little other choice – and not sure of wanting to, anyway – Alex surrendered, opening his mouth, Yassen licking his lower lip, before his tongue forced its way in, the action a mirror to what Alex knew would be happening elsewhere between their bodies in a few moments.
Yassen didn’t let go of the knife, but his free hand reached up and with it, he caressed Alex’s face and hair, belying the brutal kisses he laid on his mouth and abused lips.
After another nip and kiss on his lower lip, Yassen pushed himself up and there was blood all over his chest, vaguely in two blobs, for the two characters.
Smirking, Yassen quickly rid himself of his trousers, and as much as Alex was permanently caught between love and hate for the man, there was a not-so-small part of him that could never deny the utter beauty in Yassen’s body.
However fucked up Alex might take the man’s mind to be, his body was simply divine.
Reverently, as if Alex were some precious gift not worth letting go – Alex rather doubted the man willingly would – he carefully slipped off the silk pajama bottoms off Alex’s legs, in a manner that of a child peeling off paper from a present, relishing the anticipation…which was odd, because Yassen has seen and felt all this plenty of times, before, but apparently, he was still surprised, every time…
When they were both naked, Yassen lifted the knife to Alex’s chest again. His eyes widened, but he knew better than to move.
He keened as Yassen dug the knife into the wounds already present, and now Alex could feel the blood pouring out of him…
…a moment later, he realized that was the point, as Yassen started pooling some of the blood in his hand, before reaching down and…stroking…himself…
Alex’s eyes widened as he realized what it meant.
This would be the absolutely weirdest lube he’d ever run into. And considering that bizarre but utterly too pleasant Amazonian fish oil Yassen had once used, that was really saying something.
His breath hitched in shock, before easing again as Yassen ran his hand s up Alex’s over-sensitized sides, taming his agitated pet, still stroking himself with Alex’s blood, as the source, Alex himself, started to feel slightly dizzy. He hadn’t lost that much blood, yet…had he?
The blood loss and hormones and everything else were starting to get to Alex’s head, as he lay there, unresponsive but not fighting, either, waiting for the finger that would prepare him, and everything that would come after.
It never came.
Alex panicked when he felt the head of Yassen’s prick against his pointedly unprepared arsehole and squirmed away.
But his exquisite captor just grabbed the chain of that metal collar and whipped it around so he could hold it down, choking Alex when he moved, further depriving his brain of oxygen and the capacity for coherent thought.
A moment later, that proved to be both a blessing and a curse.
Alex screamed, openly, when Yassen just thrust straight into him, no prep, no easing, nothing – just one straight push, right to the hilt.
Being stretched as such, so brutally and openly, left, in a moment, Alex breathless, completely unable to make his lungs work as he lay there for a moment, impaled on Yassen.
He hadn’t even felt Yassen’s hand fisting his cock, not really. But he could feel himself harden, despite the pain.
Or maybe because of it, which rather frightened Alex even more.
Yassen pulled back until just the head was in, and Alex only barely managed to keep from tensing before he thrust right back in.
But he changed the angle of his hips, and this time, Alex was practically paralyzed in warring sensations, as Yassen rammed his prostate while thrusting into Alex’s unprepared hole, the physical reactions both trying to take over and neither succeeding, his body desperately trying to sort all that out.
Yassen pulled out, and thrust back again. Alex’s back arched up, this time, the pleasure just barely starting to overtake the pain, his body getting used to this violation and opening up to the man.
Yassen rested for a moment, before moving his fist up and down Alex’s length twice more. Alex started panting, again, less from pain and more from Yassen’s ministrations, before Yassen pulled out again, and thrust back in, a few more times, until Alex was mewling and writhing in pleasure, the pain lessened to a degree that now it just complemented the pleasure, rather than overshadowing it.
“Moy,” Yassen murmured. Russian for ‘mine’. “Mien. Wǒ-de. Mío. Boku-no. Mio. Mein…” Every word for ‘mine’ that Yassen could think of, he was using. Only he would be able to drudge up that kind of mental capacity while fucking.
Alex nodded. “I’m...’m...”
“ Mine,” Yassen growled again, letting go of the chain and pinning Alex’s wrists down, now, above his head as he started thrusting wildly, clearly on the brink.
So was Alex.
As he started to lose rhythm in his thrusting, Alex arched into the thrusts, bucking his hips in whatever time Yassen did have, meeting each and every one, skin for skin.
“You’re...mine,” Yassen said, with a biting down as he fisted Alex’s cock, making the teen spy come.
He never quite screamed when he came – more like gasped in shock, his breathing stopped, and his entire world came down to two sensations: one of coming, and the other of Yassen filling him, brutally claiming him.
And Yassen, still unsatisfied, did not yet relent, his thrusts into Alex’s abused orifice speeding up.
“M...mi...”
“Yours,” Alex murmured, agreeing with Yassen.
That drove the man over the brink, thrusting into Alex one last time, and stilling, spilling into Alex, something between a growl and a purr coming from deep within his throat.
Yassen kept himself propped himself up on his elbows, his pelvis still grinding into Alex’s as he barely kept from collapsing on top of Alex.
He shivered, despite being underneath Yassen’s warmth, at the feeling of blood all over his chest, just starting to cool and harden.
Yassen noticed.
His gaze went from being locked on Alex’s lips to the property tags on Alex’s chest.
“Quite messy, isn’t it?” Yassen asked, amused.
Alex nodded, eyes drooping.
But they widened against when he felt somewhat warm and wet by his navel, and looked to see Yassen’s tongue there...licking off the blood.
He slowly trailed up Alex’s chest, taking all that thin trickle of blood with him, before reaching the cuts. He almost touched the just-starting-to-scab cuts, but not quite.
There, Yassen angled himself so he could reach Alex’s right side, and started licking the blood off that part of his chest, whatever little he didn’t get from using as lube. When Alex’s right side was clean, Yassen cleaned off the left.
He still hadn’t touched the actual cuts, though he’d gotten close, and all his movements made Alex feel that Yassen was still inside Alex’s well-used-and-abused hole.
And he could feel Yassen hardening again.
Yassen...and himself.
Alex gasped and writhed once he felt that sinful tongue on his left nipple, his movement making his entire body move on Yassen’s member.
The assassin moved his tongue under the Japanese characters – taking the long way across the smooth expansion of pectoral muscle and gave a much similar treatment to Alex’s other nipple, as well.
“Yasss...Yassen!” Alex gasped out, which made the man twist his hips but no more as he finally, finally ran his tongue over his marks on Alex’s body, cleaning the slightly-pooled blood there, and soothing away the slight burn.
Alex moaned, marvelling at the fact he had any blood left to become hard, and Yassen, finishing up cleaning up Alex, looked down at where their bodies were joined and smirked.
“Still quite dirty, though, aren’t we?”
And with that, he pulled out.
Alex cried out at losing the feeling of Yassen inside him, but gasped gutturally when the man’s tongue replaced his cock, as he apparently cleaned up all the blood.
The man held Alex down by the hips with a strong, bruising grip, and continued to torture the teen spy, before he moved slowly up, towards Alex’s shaft, and when he reached Alex’s balls, his mouth left again.
Yassen’s lips wrapped around Alex’s head, and Alex could hold himself back no more, despite having previously come hard enough for there to not possibly be anything left.
His own movements created the bruises on his hips as Yassen kept him from arching up as he came, again, the assassin swallowing every single last drop.
Panting as he came down, Alex was unsurprised to see Yassen standing up and walking on his knees up Alex’s slowly-calming body.
His cock was completely red, from Alex’s blood, and very hard and swollen, and magnificent in size.
He threaded his hands through Alex’s hair, before clutching sharply and pulling back. Already knowing what Yassen wanted, Alex opened his mouth invitingly, and Yassen took it.
The scent of blood and musk was overwhelming as Yassen thrust right into Alex’s mouth, and held there, leaving Alex’s cheeks to hollow as he sucked with vigor, using his tongue to clean away the blood and sweat and whatever the hell else was on there from Alex’s arse.
Yassen, on his part, had far more stamina than Alex, lasting for…for…well, long enough for his entire prick, impressive size and all, to be cleaned by Alex, completely, of blood, sweat, and cum.
Just in time for Yassen to come straight down Alex’s throat, far enough down that Alex barely had to put his swallowing muscles to work, though his tongue still kept going at cleaning Yassen.
The man was still groaning when he pulled out of Alex’s mouth.
“That, Alex, was wonderful,” he said absently, an almost dreamy look on his face, gaze locked on to Alex’s chest, as he lay down beside the boy, clearly intending on sleeping here, right on top of the collar’s chain.
“Goodnight, Alex,” Yassen said, with a tired but commanding tone of voice, fully sated.
Alex turned and snuggled into Yassen’s warm, strong chest, and the man wrapped his arms around Alex, protecting what was his.
“Goodnight, Yassen.”
~*~
He didn’t know how long it’s been since that night. But it’s been quite a while.
Alex heard some explosions and gunshots in the distance, and backed himself against the headboard, into the nest of pillows, and pulled the chain out in front of him, letting it drape over his knees and feet as he tugged some pillows around him.
He looked up as he heard heavy thuds outside his room, but frowned as he realized that it was too many to be Yassen-
BANG
Someone was trying to break open the door.
BANG
Alex’s eyes widened, trying to remembered what this house’s schematics, were, from when he’d tried to break in months ago-
BAN-CRASH
The door flew right off its hinges, and four bulky and painfully familiar men came in, holding up guns, before lowering them when they saw Alex.
“Cub?”
The K-Unit stared at Alex in horror, especially the chain, before they all snapped up as Yassen materialized from the shadows.
“Get away from him,” he said, softly, and Alex just winced, though he wasn’t sure who or what for. “He is mine.”
That possessive tone sent shivers down Alex’s spine, both good and bad. With a sharp breath, he backed up into the bed again, until his head hit the headboard. Everyone’s eyes glanced at him, but not for long, as Wolf turned to Yassen and said, “We have the option of bringing you in alive, Gregorovich – but it’s not a requirement. Stand down, though, and we’ll-”
Yassen had a handgun in an instant, and was firing at the K-Unit, but they were all damn well trained, and none of the rounds hit them.
But Yassen was well trained, too. The gun was literally shot out of his hand, and he had the K-Unit in direct combat instantly, felling Snake with a few quick blows, before he was facing the other three head on, all of their guns off to the side – out of Yassen’s reach, and out of theirs.
Alex just backed away from them all, now more across the bed than anything else.
The room was very large – not that Alex got to experience that first hand very often – and the K-Unit were using that to their advantage, trying to corner Yassen, though the assassin escaped every time.
In the end, it was Snake – he hadn’t dropped his gun, and simply shot between Wolf’s legs from the ground, hitting Yassen’s hip. As the man screamed, he tried to keep fighting, but even he was human, and he had his limits.
Wolf finished it with one bullet to Yassen’s head.
Alex keened, and they all stared at him as Snake pushed himself up, slowly.
“Oh, god,” Wolf said, coming closer. “What’d he do to you?”
As Wolf approached, Alex scrambled back on the bed again, which made them all pause.
“You heard how long he’s been here in the briefing,” Snake said quietly, despite all the noise going on outside, while Alex continued to stare at Yassen’s body. “He’s not going to be…he’ll be…”
“Cub?” Wolf asked him directly. But Alex didn’t listen, didn’t hear, because a pool of blood was staining the floor underneath Yassen his head, and his hip. And it was growing, and Yassen wasn’t moving, he should be moving, right now, getting up and killing them…and cleaning up that blood. He hated anything getting dirty or messy, and he would’ve hated those blood stains – they were getting everywhere…
“All right,” someone near him said. They were all near him, now, and they would get the bed dirty.
“Cub, we’re getting you out of here,” Wolf said, kneeling on the bed.
Out?
Out?
Whimpering, he clutched his head and scrambled away, from the mess, from all the soot and smoke and explosions. That was going to get everywhere.
“Cub?” Another one of those voices asked unsurely.
“Cut that chain!” Fox yelled. “Goddamn, I’m getting sick looking at it!”
“What about the collar?” Eagle asked, holding out a lock cutter.
“We don’t have anything for that here,” Fox said, looking out the doorway. “Move it – the medical chopper’s landing. We gotta get him on, fast.”
Clink
Alex’s head snapped over, eyes wide. The chain was…everywhere. Eagle’d had to cut it so messily, and flakes of metal were all over the bed, in the folds of the sheets, the blanket…
Now he was in the other direction, away from the chain, until he realized that doing so put him in Wolf’s direction and goddamn, why was there nowhere to go?
“What’s wrong?” One of them asked. Alex had shut his eyes and clamped his hands over his ears, he wasn’t here, he wasn’t here, he wasn’t anywhere-
“He’s been in here for almost two months,” another one said. “What the fuck do you think’s wrong? Just grab him and let’s go!”
One of them put a hand on his shoulder.
Alex jerked away and backed into the headboard, still not seeing or hearing anything, kicking out at the next hand, and the next, and please, Yassen, stop, stop-
“Stop!”
“This isn’t working,” one of the voices said, gruff and concerned and that didn’t work, either.
“Tranq him,” someone said.
“We can’t just sedate him! We-”
“-don’t have any other options!”
“NO!” Alex yelled, because everything was always worse when he couldn’t fight back, Yassen would be so mad, so mad, and damnit, he just wanted to reach over and…and…
“Yassen…” he moaned, as he felt something pinch his neck.
He moaned again as he was lifted up, and looked around for a familiar face, a comforting one, reaching his hand out for Yassen.
“What the…the kid actually wants the guy?”
There was a large pause, before one of them said, “Like I said, months. Stockholm’s Syndrome, probably.”
“Oh, shit. Poor kid…even he didn’t deserve it.”
Alex tried to shove at the chest that was holding him, but damnit, his arms wouldn’t move, and he tried to just get out of the grip, get away, get back to Yassen-
“Damnit! The kid won’t hold still.”
“I thought you tranq’d him!”
“Half a dose-”
“Give him the rest!”
And there was another pinch, and more smoke, and the last thing he saw was Yassen’s body.
The last thing he heard was the man’s name on his own lips.
~*~
“C’mon, we’ve been delayed long enough, already – the dose isn’t going to hold Cub down for much longer!”
“There’s still too much open fire – we can’t get there just yet.”
“Well figure out a way there – I don’t know what’s wrong with the kid but he’s not right.”
A pause, and someone asked, “How much time ‘til the firing’s cleared?”
“About five minutes, give or take a minute or two, depending on how long the others take.”
“I’m checking him now,” someone said, and Alex felt a lot of moment, then going from someone’s arms to the floors, and someone was unbuttoning the shirt, and no, no, no, they couldn’t have him!
But his body wasn’t working, and he may have shivered as he was hit by the cold air, but if he did, it was lost amid the sharp intakes of breath as his shirt was pushed aside.
“Jesus fucking Christ, what is that?”
“I don’t know-”
“ You’re MI6!”
“I’m not an international linguist! I’m our unit’s linguist. All I can say for sure is that it’s probably Japanese.”
“It looks…look, the skin abrasions are old – but the scabs are fresh.”
“Whatever it is, it’s been carved into him, repeatedly.”
“Oh, god…”
There was more silence – relatively speaking, as there was still gunfire in the background, and where the hell were they, even? – before he felt some probing fingers that did not belong there groping over his chest and arms.
“Something’s off about the ribs, and I don’t like some of these bruises, but nothing seems to be critical damage.”
“I don’t think it’s his body we have to worry about.”
“Of course it’s not his body we have to worry about! But it’s the only thing we can take care of, right now! If I can-”
“Wolf, calm down,” Ben – Fox? – said sternly.
“Cub-”
“Jason!” Ben said sternly.
“What’s with you suddenly using my real name, hm?”
“It got you to shut up. Just take care of what you can, and let MI6 deal with the rest.”
“They’ve done a piss poor job so far, leaving him here to rot until it suited them.”
“They have him now-”
“Fuck them.”
“You can’t – they’re the only ones who’ll be able to offer an inkling of help for Alex.”
“…I know. I…I know.”
“It scares me, too.”
“I hate it.”
“I do, too. Now fix his ribs, his shirt, and we can get him back to the chopper.”
Wolf, apparently, complied, and Alex felt himself being bodily lifted, again, and protested, desperately trying to move.
“How strong was the dose?”
“Full syrette!”
“Well it wasn’t strong enough!”
There were pounding footsteps from somewhere, and Alex heard someone yell, “How is he?”
“Fine, but the tranq’s wearing off.”
“But-”
“This kid’s prolly been drugged to hell and back. He’d be resistant, now-”
“Lemme go…”
The four men’s commotion stopped at that slurred plea from the charge in their arms, and Alex wondered, vaguely, just how out of it he looked. But that didn’t matter – he had to get back to Yassen. Now.
“No can do, Cub,” one of them – Eagle? – said. “Get him in the chopper!”
Then there was jerking and flailing and Alex knew without a doubt he was getting farther and farther from Yassen, and tried again to push away, just as he felt a jump , a rattling landing, and heavy vibrations as Wolf held on to him.
“What’s wrong with him?” Snake, maybe. The bastard who killed Yassen.
“I don’t know!” Wolf answered.
“You’re the bloody medic-”
Alex pushed away, and managed to open his eyes, this time, to see Wolf and Snake standing over him.
Snake.
In his mind’s eye, all he saw was the man shooting Yassen and debilitating…and Wolf shooting Yassen and killing him.
They killed Yassen.
That was all he could think.
“You…killed…Yassen…” Alex growled, barely, through the horrible fog over his brain, desperately trying to claw his way through it.
“Kid, you’re safe-”
“You killed him!”
And the fog turned red.
~*~
Beep
“How is he?”
Beep
“His ribs are healing nicely, Miss Starbright.”
Beep
“And…his neck?”
Beep
“The scars will fade, with time. But he will need to get MI6’s high-tech plastic surgery for them to disappear completely.”
Beep
“Thank you, Mr. Daniels-”
“Please, it’s Ben.”
Beep
“Then I’m Jack. His…everything. Family. I’m all he has.”
Beep
“Ben, how do you…?”
Beep
“I work as a sort of liaison between MI6 and the SAS. I go in asan SAS, on behalf of MI6.”
Beep
“Where did the scars on his neck come from?”
Beep
“He was…chained…to the bed. Had a metal collar.”
Beep
“Oh, god…he was…no! But…I heard…from that Wolf guy-”
Beep
“-that he was living in luxury? Yea – he was sitting in a bed of kings, but he was still chained to it like a dog.”
Beep
“They wouldn’t give me the details of what happened to him.”
Beep
“Physically, two broken ribs, lots of bruises, a few whip marks, lacerations – probably a knife – and malnutrition and dehydration.”
Beep
“…physically?”
Beep
“He suffered a lot of sexual abuse – he was raped repeatedly during his capture.”
Beep
“Oh, god, Alex!”
Beep
“And...”
Beep
“And?! There’s more?!”
Beep
“He probably has Stockholm’s Syndrome.”
Beep
“What?”
Beep
“As we were leaving, he kept trying get back to his captor. On the chopper, he attacked us for killing him.”
Beep
“Who was it? The captor?”
Beep
“International assassin…named Yassen Gregorovich.”
Beep
“I know him.”
Beep
“ Ben, what happened to Alex’s head?”
Beep
“Er…as we were leaving…we were carrying him into the Chopper, as it was rising, and-”
Beep
“-he said he wanted to get back to Yassen, and kicked his way off-”
Beep
“-and fell about three meters to the ground – concrete. Head took a nasty hit.”
Beep
“Will he ever wake up?”
Beep
“I don’t know, Jack.”
Beep
“He’s taken worse hits, before!”
Beep
“Jack…I think…I think that this time, he doesn’t want to wake up.”
Beep
“He’s never waking up, is he?”
Beep
“Well…”
Beep
“Ben, we can…we can hope for it, right? That he’ll wake up ?”
Beep
“For his sake…for his sake, I hope he doesn’t.”
Beep
~*~
Alex took the last spoonful of soup and set the spoon down carefully, just as Yassen liked it, before he looked up, hesitantly. Jack never had rules, and now things were confusing.
Well, she liked clean dishes, and Alex hated anything dirty, so maybe he should start there.
With a new goal in mind, Alex pushed himself, concealing all signs of pain from the pressure on the broken rib, and washed the bowl and spoon, dried them, and put them back in the cabinet, just as Jack walked back in, hanging up the phone after wishing her brother well.
“I could’ve done that, Alex,” she said, smiling. “But thank you.”
Alex nodded.
“Anyway, I was thinking we should go to the park – they’ve got this new expansion thingy, completely revitalized, and I thought it would be good for you to go outside some more, and your shrink agreed with me, actually…”
As Jack prattled on and on about the park, Alex walked over and hesitantly reached out for his coat, before looking back at Jack, who smiled and nodded.
Pulling it on, they stepped out in the chilly, late fall air. Alex shied away from Jack immediately, knowing she liked to put her arms around his shoulders.
He was Yassen’s. Only Yassen could touch him.
He gently splayed his hand across his chest.
He was Yassen’s. And Yassen was going to have him back, soon enough.
~*~
It was the Vicodin Alex had stored up over his years with MI6, for the most.
He used to hate the haze that the meds would put on him – reminding him harshly of the fog on his mind from the tranquilizers from when they took him from Yassen – and only took them when the pain became unbearable. Otherwise, he kept them.
Now, he had four different bottled, all half filled with pain medications, three of them Vicodin and one codeine, sitting on his nightstand as he sat on his perfectly made bed.
Very clean, very efficient.
He smiled as he picked up the wine on the table – it was the same kind Yassen had given Alex that day, that night, that he marked Alex as his.
Pouring it into the crystal glass, Alex opened the first bottle and started making his way steadily through it, swallowing two or three pills at a time, downing it with the wine.
The first bottle had about a dozen pills, which he worked through fast, not even taking a minute to get through it.
The next one had about fifteen, the codeine twenty, and the last Vicodin had another dozen and half in it. Swallowing as many at a time as he could, Alex was through all of them in less than ten minutes. He finished the rest of the wine, too, quickly, but elegantly.
This would be a clean death.
Laying back on the bed, the sun shining on his face through the open window, Alex finished the last of the wine, before looking at the sky one last time, and shutting his eyes as he leaned back against the bed.
“I’m coming, Yassen,” he murmured. “And I’m still yours.”
~*~
