To Trust A Cop

Beta: working on it
Warning: angst, abuse, rape
Notes: I guess I’ve lost half my readers at this point. But truly, have faith in me, we got a whole sequel to work on too.

There’s not long left now, I have it all in my head, I just need the damn time and energy to get it down too.


48

The day was sunny and hot. The first really hot day for the year. The bright light and bright green vegetation only enhanced the ugliness of the block. The grey/brownish buildings, cracked windows, broken doors or the graffiti marring building sides. However, since Seifer arrived at the apartment building once the sun had almost disappeared, he was saved some of the ugliness.

The blond took the stairs two steps at a time while still trying to make up a good plan which didn’t involve him getting his head separated from his shoulders or him getting castrated. Or both.

He had been hiding away for a little more than half a month. Enough time for the prickly brunet to take offence and for other people to lose track of him. Seifer wasn’t too happy about the arrangement either, especially not when they had entered such a unstable phase in this relationship but it had seemed the best solution.

It had been easy to figure out who had been lurking in the shadows. It came as a slight shock to find out his father was dead since a week back at that time. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out who’s goons had been following him. Neither did it take a genius to understand the situation with goons standing around a corner and one’s car being flat tired on all four. It was skill and luck that made him sneak away from that situation. Like hell he’d dare to even step in the same direction as Squall with that sort of thing at his heels. He had gone into hiding that same day.

He could have dragged the youth of to a safe house. But that would require him to force the secluded brunet into the 24/7 company of complete strangers in a closed space like a apartment or motel room. He didn’t have the heart to do that to the youth.

Still his gut and instincts had kept him restless. That gut feeling told him that stuff was going on. That something was coming down.

The cop stopped once at the correct floor and seeing that the apartment looked lit eased him some. He still didn’t have any concrete plan in mind, except the truth. It might or might not backfire at him in some violent way. Hyne knew for someone so quiet and antisocial Squall easily used his fists when angry.

Seifer hit the bell calmly. He was expecting a long period of waiting and continuous hitting of the bell. His stomach knotted in a odd way as he heard and saw a person approach on the other side. As the door opened, Seifer blinked in slight shook. It was not blue-grey eyes glaring at him, but black opal. Teo crossed his arms, legs slightly spread, eyes blazing in a disconcerting way.

Seifer eyed the man warily, not at all sure how to take the situation. Had Squall been as upset as to accept Teo to the apartment? Or was the cunning teacher using Seifer’s absence to sneak his way under Squall’s guard? Or something very much worse?

The man stepped aside and Seifer entered. What met him made the knot in his stomach tighten.

The apartment was clean and orderly. All boxes where they should be, the bed made, the kitchen shining. The table with all paints and canvases was clean. The paints put in a rack and the brushes in a glass jar. It was the first time ever Seifer had seen the table so orderly. There was no sign of the youth. The door was closed harshly and Seifer turned to face the angry man.

“Where’ve you been?” Tornquist asked icily.

“Where’s Squall?” Seifer countered.

“Answer my question,” Teo retorted.

Seifer narrowed his eyes. He hadn’t checked the bathroom. He made a move in that direction, Teo simply stepped in the way. Seifer glared but noticed the man’s clothes. Black leather, leather gloves and that silver watch that didn’t tell time.

“Things came up, I’ve been occupied for a while,” the cop answered smoothly but warily.

A black, arched eyebrow told him the man wasn’t fooled.

“Things came up? Like wanting-you-dead things?” Teo asked dryly.

“Where’s Squall? What are you doing here?” Seifer snapped.

His mind wanted to make conclusions he ignored. Teo crossed his arms over his chest and gave the cop a disapproving look.

“What’s it to you? You can’t just disappear for a month and then believe he’d sit around waiting,” the teacher answered.

Seifer fisted his hands until nails bit into his palms. It was getting harder and harder to ignore what his instincts told him. After a long time of silence and staring, Teo sighed in frustration.

“I really don’t know what’s going on in that thick head of yours. Seraph came for a visit and took Squall with him,” Teo growled.

Seifer heard the sentence but his brain refused to accept it. Ice slowly encased his body, his chest and heart. Teo fished out a piece of paper from his pocket and handed it to the blond. Seifer saw his own hands take the note but couldn’t feel it.

: : You know where to find me : :

He would recognize that haughty, wide handwriting anywhere. He read it repeatedly. Odd ringing sounds was plaguing his ears and funny spots was starting to blotch his sight.

Seifer found himself sitting at the edge of the bed but couldn’t really recall himself walking there. His head was spinning around the impossible realization that Seraph had Squall. A part of him was spinning and spinning in a hysterical circle unable to snap out of the concept of Squall being in that… persons hands. Another part calmly told him he was fainting since the spots was getting larger and darker and his hands were starting to shiver.

With a sudden gush, the cop started breathing again. It hurt. His lungs didn’t want to move, his heart was frozen and no muscle seemed to respond. He was starting to hyperventilate, that calm rational persona said. He needed to control his breathing if he didn’t want to collapse.

It was funny, in a way, how he could on one part not think straight and another part told him coldly what was happening and what he ought to do to stop himself from fainting or whatever.

It felt like ages before he could breathe again without too much hindrance. Still his body was cold and stiff, his heart ached from strain and his lungs oddly burned. His throat and mouth was dry like sandpaper. Terror. He was experiencing terror. That calm, logic part of him crooked it’s head in amusement. Well, that was a first.

Once he fully understood what had gripped him, Seifer managed to go through all the techniques for control. He finally realized that Teo was trying to give him a glass of water. Seifer waved it away. Water wouldn’t help. The man rose and sighed.

“Hyne Seifer, what were you thinking? Why didn’t you contact me?” Teo asked in a tired voice.

Seifer shook his head. He didn’t know. What the fuck had he been thinking? Why hadn’t he contacted anyone? Why hadn’t he taken Squall with him, against any protests? Although Seifer would be the first to admit that when it came to his brother he seldom reacted rationally.

Teo dragged over a stool and the gaze Seifer received was weird enough to make the blond look away.

“How long?” he asked and his voice sounded funny even in his own ears.

Hyne damn it. Get a grip. He had to start thinking in constructive ways.

“17 days,” Teo answered.

Seifer forced down deeper breaths. 17 days. More than two weeks. His mind cruelly conjured up images of just what those fifteen days could have been like for the youth.

“Look, Seifer, I know this is a sore subject but you need to tell me what’s going on if we’re going to figure out a way to fix this,” Teo said smoothly.

Seifer ground his teeth. He hated that tone of the man. However, he needed help. Since his brain hadn’t started working with him yet Teo would have to do it for him.

“I found out my father’s dead,” he started.

Thankfully Teo didn’t say any of the cliché stuff but kept silent. Seifer sighed. How the hell was he going to sort this out enough for Teo to understand?

“I understood then that it was Seraph’s goons following me around,” Seifer continued.

*****

Teo kept silent while he got a story he had been dying to know for years. The legacy of the Almasy family.

“Father never remarried when mother died, so there’s only two heirs,” the blond continued.

Teo studied the man who uncharacteristically didn’t meet his eyes.

“When I was… about ten I think, father invited the seven crime lords of his. You know my grandfather was the one to invent the system of crime lords? He made a cartel of eight seats, him at the head. So in reality the Almasy empire is controlled by eight members, however its always been an Almasy at the head seat.”

Teo hadn’t known that little secret fact. Probably no one else did either because some police or judge or whatnot would have done everything humanly possible to take down the late Mr. Almasy. No wonder the bloody family was impossible to get to and was bathing in riches.

“Anyway. At this meeting that I wasn’t allowed to be present at since I was just a kid, the members signed a contract called The Cartel Contract. This contract… Well basically it says that when my Father dies his place would be split into two. One for each son so that the empire grows to nine members, nine states and so grows that little bit more powerful and rich.”

Seifer looked up but still didn’t meet Teo’s eyes. Green eyes were unfocused and the man was still sickly pale. That had surprised the teacher. He hadn’t believed there had been any deeper feelings in Seifer regarding Squall. Actually he hadn’t been sure the blond had been capable of any stronger feelings. It had been… like a cold slap in the face to witness that utter terror painted in the man’s face.

“Of course, if one of us was to die nothing would change. The power would just be inherited like it always have. From father to son.”

Teo shifted in his seat and when Seifer had stayed silent too long he felt the need to say something.

“Then why didn’t Seraph kill you earlier? Why wait so long?”

Seifer gave a dry laughter and finally met Teo’s eyes. However, the green gaze was hard and grim.

“Nothing went on without father knowing and if there was anything Seraph feared it was father. Nothing escaped that bastard but few things woke his ire,” Seifer finished dryly.

Teo wanted to ask just what Seifer was remembering since he got such a closed off, guarded look. However, the teacher knew that it was easier to make Squall talk about his childhood than it was to make the blond talk. Mostly because Seifer could do some serious injury where the youth was smaller and weaker and hence easier to handle. Teo would die before admitting any of that though.

“So… Your father is dead and Seraph finally dares to hunt you down?” Teo surmised.

Seifer hummed distractedly.

“But I don’t really understand why. Wouldn’t you all benefit from being nine instead of eight? You said that nine members made nine states,” Teo said slowly.

“Yeah. Grandfather designed the system so that it wouldn’t work without cooperation. I don’t know the exact details but the whole organization is like one gigantic cell. If one part is weak or if a part is cut away, it affects the whole thing. Grandfather made sure to choose those who shared and understood his plan. It has worked fine so far,” Seifer answered dryly.

The cop dragged in his own blond hair and made a frustrated sound.

“Seraph is a sociopath, psychopath, sadist and megalomaniac all in one. Like hell he’d have a member in the organization that didn’t follow his lead,” Seifer growled.

“A person can’t really be both a psychopath and a sociopath you know?” Teo informed quietly.

That the older Almasy had a personality disorder was no news. No one in such a position could be completely sane. The cop made another sound, like a mix between a growl and just a noise.

“When you’ve meet him you will be allowed to say that again,” he muttered.

Restlessly Seifer suddenly got to his feet and started pacing in the apartment. Teo took a deep breath. It was reassuring to see the usual Seifer come back. It had actually been uncomfortable witnessing the very human side of a man that seem everything but.

However, the cop still seemed unable to make his brain function properly. There were lines of stress and… fear around green eyes and thin mouth. The black haired man leaned forward with elbows at his knees. Then it hit him just what a ridiculously huge beast they were up against.

“Maybe…” Teo started and waited until he had Seifer’s attention, ”we ought to speak with the police about this.”

Seifer snorted and continued pace.

“On what grounds? We have no evidences of a kidnapping that is strong enough that the police commander could convince the mayor to give us a search warrant to the Almasy estate. You don’t seem to realize just what power Seraph currently has. Really Teo, I thought you understood the power structure in this city,” the cop said bitterly.

Teo pressed his lips together hard. He was no fool. Maybe he had had a little naïve hope that maybe the mayor backed up by the police force would have backbone enough to give a search warrant.

“What if the crime lords got news about your father’s death? Would they want one or two brothers?” Teo asked slowly.

As Seifer met his eyes, he arched his eyebrows. Finally a calmer, deep, dangerously calculating look entered the blond’s eyes.

*****

He had been sitting in the water for so long it had turned less than lukewarm. Squall pressed his fingers together to feel the wrinkles the water had made. He had been right when he thought a hot soak in the huge bath would feel good. It had. Especially with a body that ached and felt sore all over.

The brunet poked at bruises along his thighs he had no memory of getting. His chest and neck was a colorful area with small bites and sucking bruises all over. His wrists had faint marks from cuffs or rope. It felt strange seeing all these evidences of last night but only having a dim memory of them. A little like a strangely vivid dream and yet he knew for a fact it had been cold reality.

Squall didn’t really know what he had expected. All these years, every time someone made a aggressive advance on him he had been scared and angry. Still the youth found that he was oddly unmoved by the rape. Maybe because he didn’t remember it clearly or because he had been drugged. Of course, he had had a disgusted and dirty feeling when he woke. The water had fixed that. Still he didn’t think this was how a raped person should feel.

He found himself thinking: “Nothing worse than that?”
At the same time he couldn’t help but wonder if it was some kind of denial reaction or some delayed chock.

Finally, when he started shuddering, he slowly got out of the water. He had gotten a large terry towel that he could wrap fully around him. It was very high quality fabric and felt marvelous. The bastards had stolen his clothes. All that he had found laying in the bed once he woke up was a couple pajamas looking pants.

Squall sat down on the bed beside the pants, staring at them. They were in a creamy color and felt soft to the touch.

He dressed in them sooner or later. He had a odd sense of time, rather he had no idea of the time. If it was night or day or lunch or dinner. It took a very long time, he thought, for him to grow hungry enough for his stomach to growl. Was it because of the huge dinner or the drug or both?

In any case, a anxiousness spread in time with the hunger. What would he do if he was to endure another dinner and another night?

When the door finally opened and reveal the guard with a bundle of clothes, Squall had a very good mental preparation. After some thinking he had concluded it would be the logical thing to happen. What did the man think Squall would feel? Did he think Squall would come to dinner like a beaten dog? He’d learn otherwise. He had already done what the youth had feared most of his life, what else could he do?

The guard left him alone to dress in whatever ridicules outfit the serpent had conjured up for Squall. It was a flimsy kind of skirt. Or, if putting it bluntly, a pair of underwear with long flimsy loin pieces in front and back. The waist of it was circled by a row of noisy, golden metal pieces. To it he got a shirt history to use.
Where did he find these ridicules outfits? No sane person could use them. He’d freeze in these things.

Squall didn’t give the guard much attention and followed the big man like a nice pet. As before he wasn’t given any footwear and according to the light outside it was dinner time. However, his stomach tightened as they instead of going to the dinner hall went straight to the master bedroom.

The youth forced himself to take deep breaths and forced down his erratic heart. So he was to experience the same thing as yesterday? Fine, bring it on.

The guard pushed him into the dark room and closed the door. It looked like Squall remembered it. The clear memory had started to dissolve around the time the drug had seriously started fucking with his system.

The difference was the small round table by the windows to the left. It had nice tableware and live candles. And the bastard in question. Squall straightened at the gaze he received. The dark, green eyes traveled over his body without modesty but the youth refused to be moved by it. Somehow this man didn’t scare him like the day before. The bastard had done his worse.

Seraph gestured for him to sit down. Squall slowly did so, keeping straight without feeling embarrassed over his… clothes. There was only one casserole on the table and it held some very good smelling stew. Squall served himself this time and it was actually easy to stay calm in the heavy silence. He could meet those dark, green eyes without flinching.

Strange, shouldn’t it be the opposite? Maybe the whole theory about rape was wrong? It wasn’t about violence and dominance and the victim didn’t end up like a helpless, shivering wreak? The blond smirked, like a twitching of his mouth edges.

“You have a marvelous eye color, you know that don’t you?” the man purred.

Squall wanted to have fur so it could bristle along his back. He didn’t dignify the man with a answer. Unfortunately it made the bastard chuckle which pricked at Squall’s carefully controlled nerves and temper.

“Giving me the silent treatment are you? Or are your throat too sore? You was quite vocal yesterday night,” Almasy continued.

Squall felt a flash of anger strong enough for his teeth to grind down and make a sound. He started eating. He wasn’t about to follow the man’s lead and respond.

“Do you remember anything? Any lasting effects?” the blond continued and poured a glass of wine.

Squall watched as his glass was taken. His hand fisted the fork until his knuckles went white as the blond picked up a little bag with white powder.

“I won’t drink that,” Squall said deadly seriously.

“Funny, I think you said something similar yesterday,” Seraph purred and calmly prepared the glass.

Squall stared the man fully in the eyes, trying to impress on the bastard just how serious he was. Still with a nonchalant and oddly graceful gesture the man poured the wine and placed the glass by Squall again. A blond eyebrow arched with expectation. They stared at each other for a long time, Squall debating with himself.

What would happen if he truly refused it? Would he get beaten? Have his fingers broken? He could take a beating, had done it before. Squall’s stomach tightened. What about a rape without that drug? Would it be very different? He’d probably remember it more clearly. Did it matter? But if he took the drink when knowing fully what it would do and lead to was almost like giving his consent.

Squall slowly lifted the glass. The smug, satisfied expression on the man made the youth see red. He hadn’t planned it from the beginning. It was a impulse thing that almost shocked both of them equally. The wine flew through the air and hit the man perfectly, staining his white shirt and expensive costume and making purple/red streaks in the perfect hair and handsome face.

It had been silent before, now the silence felt deafening. Squall’s heart was beating hard against his ribs, adrenaline was making his body feel light and jittery. They stared at each other and Squall saw the surprised shock on the man. As if such a thing was so outrageous he hadn’t even contemplated the possibility. Then he saw the rage. The youth’s stomach tightened instantly and his mouth turned dry at the growing rage and fury in green eyes.

It was like a black cloud crept into the eyes and shadowed the face. Like a mask was dragged down across the handsome face and twisted it into a beast. What truly made his bravery disappear and fear start to twist his insides was the calm collected way the man picked up a napkin and slowly cleaned his face. Then he smiled and it sent cold tendrils down Squall’s back. As he rose, Squall forced himself the stay seated.

He wasn’t going to give the man the pleasure of succumbing to fear. Also, he wasn’t sure his legs would hold him very well. When the man walked around and reached for him, next impulsive thing happened. The youth fisted the blunt knife and struck against the blond. Who just caught his wrists and dragged him from the chair. With a simple twist Squall cried out in pain as his wrist burned.

The knife clattered to the ground and he was forced to kneel by the man. Not broken. It hurt like fucking hell as bones grated against each other, but nothing was broken. Squall hissed as his hair was twisted ruthlessly and he was forced to look up into Seraph’s eyes.

“I guess we will do this the nasty way this time? Perhaps you enjoy that more?” he growled.

Squall glared but didn’t say anything. Why make a situation worse than it already was? His hair was released and he prepared to put his heels in when being dragged away. But the hand came back down and Squall couldn’t dodge the back handing he received. It was done so hard that he for a moment thought he went unconscious.

He got a hard slap that made sure he stayed half way conscious at least. As he was backhanded again, blood filled his mouth. The slap on that made tears form in his dazed eyes and he thought he was sure to break his lips and the skin over his cheekbones in this way.

Squall’s upper arm was grabbed instead of his wrist and he was dragged away like a doll. Fear returned with a gut wrenching vengeance. Fear of pain. Fear of being at the mercy of a man being so furious. Squall started struggling half way to the bed. Weakly because his dizzy head wouldn’t allow for anything else.

Roughly his wrists was caught and he was hoisted up standing. Without a word he was cuffed to the chains again and Seraph left him there to enter the walk in closet. Squall was shivering. His legs felt watery and places in his face throbbed in pain. He carefully felt the inside of his mouth and found the place where teeth had bit into the cheek.

The man returned too soon and was only wearing a couple pants. And a whip. Squall’s stomach tightened harshly, he started trembling. He had been whipped before, but that had been Seifer that hadn’t intended to do real harm.

“Don’t give up on me too soon,” Almasy purred darkly and snapped the whip in the air.

Squall gripped the chains leading to his cuffs and bit down on his bottom lip as he heard the first whip tear through the air. It lashed across his back like a burning, blazing streak. He cried out. He had to. The agony was nothing he had tasted before.

Three hits followed in quick succession and he screamed at each one of them. Agony. It was blazing across his back, each welt throbbing. The whip licked across his shoulderblades but then it bit down across his buttocks and his cry changed tone completely. If he thought getting his back stripped was bad it was nothing compared to getting those three tails across the soft flesh of his buttocks.

Again and he arched and twisted. Again and tears were forming. If he had believed the light clothes would shield him some he had been completely wrong. His body started twisting and arching, jolting before each strike. It licked his shoulders and the small of his back and then bit down around the sensitive skin of his inner thigh. It danced along his body and left streaks of acid along his skin.

There was no way to keep any dignity in the face of such a whipping. He started sobbing and crying between his screams and there was no use in trying to stay still and just take it. Then suddenly the whipping stopped. Only his sobbing was heard accompanied with the slightly panting man. Squall whimpered as his head was yanked back by his sweaty hair.

“Did you enjoy it? Has that bad temper of yours cooled down yet?” Seraph maliciously asked.

Strong hands caught the flimsy clothes and ripped them apart like paper. Once he was naked; Squall was taken down and chained to the head of the bed instead. He could hardly move. Just lay there on his stomach while fighting with his sobbing. His whole backside ached, throbbed and felt like a open wound. Was there any bleeding lashes? Would it leave scars?

The man returned from whatever he had been doing. Squall grabbed the soft covers under him and tried to press down in them. Would he be violated now? Would it be very different from having sex out of his own free will? Would the lack of pleasure change much?

The youth tensed but stayed still as large hands spread his legs and the heavier body settled between them. He couldn’t stop the almost wail from pain as the hands stroked the blazing welts. His hips were grabbed and he was lifted up in the man’s lap, arching the small of his back and leaving that private place wide open.

Fingers stroked his tightly clenched hole. Just get on with it. Split him on that big dick and get it over with. A hand pressed down between Squall’s shoulder-blades, drawing a whimper from him. Then something cold as ice was pressed into that tight hole.

Squall almost jolted from the bed and gasped in shock. Whatever it was it was long and maybe thick like three fingers. He gasped and shuddered in cold as the thing was pressed so far it should press against his stomach. The cold froze his insides and made it ache. Then it was withdrawn and another took its place.

Squall hadn’t known such cold applied from that end could slowly start hurting like it did. He twisted but lay secure spread across the blond’s lap with the large hand pressing down in his back. However, he could turn his head and get a good look of the things being used. There was a tray beside them carrying a stand with a slightly thick and very long metal thing. It was connected to a electricity outlet. Beside it there was a bowl with a number of the long, cold things the man used.

Squall whined as one of the cold staffs was pushed inside as deeply as possible. Then a second joined the first. The youth groaned in pain as the coldness seemed to spread in his whole body. Was he trying to kill Squall?

“Stop, too cold,” he shuddered weakly.

“Too cold? Need some heat do you?” the man purred back.

Squall didn’t answer, only sunk back down and expected to get the heat in form of hard flesh. The things was withdrawn hastily, and the other metal thing picked up. Squall barely had time to register heat before it sunk inside. Heat.

The brunet screamed at the top of his lungs and struggled wildly to get away from the searing heat. He was going to get burned to death! He didn’t quite know he was begging in his mindless screaming, but the heat disappeared. In the wake and through his shuddering gasps of shock he could hear the man chuckle softly.

“Was that hot enough? Do I need to cool you down?” he asked maliciously.

“No, no, stop,” Squall breathed.

A cold staff was driven inside and he screamed again. The pain thankfully didn’t last for long but the thing was withdrawn and replaced with another. The cruel man filled him with the things until his insides felt hard and numb from cold. When he then withdrew the things and replaced them with heat, Squall was screaming to sky heavens.

He realized that the insane agony was from the extreme shifts of temperature and not from inflicted wounds. Still, could the insides of a body take that kind of abuse? When he was forced through a fourth round Squall was sobbing and trembling, his hair was plastered to his forehead and his bottom lip gnawed to a sore, throbbing piece of flesh.

As he was full of the cold things again the hand left his back and twisted his hair to bend up his head.

“Was it worth it? Throwing that glass of wine in my face? Ready to redeem yourself yet?” the man purred and Squall could vaguely feel the hard length between his buttocks.

He didn’t want to beg. He didn’t want to give in but the pain was too great. He couldn’t take that hot poker burning his insides again. Squall nodded weakly. He whimpered as he was shook in his hair.

“Seriously, he must at least have taught you how to ask properly for forgiveness?” Seraph tsked at him.

Squall wanted to start crying again at the injustice of it all. Of the growing humiliation and his own cowardness to not be able to stand the pain.

“Please forgive me,” he forced past his lips.

He was given a peek at his cheek and then his hair was released.

“I’ll think about it when I’ve fucked you,” Seraph said and Squall could hear the smirk in his voice.

The youth clutched the bed covers again as the cold staffs was withdrawn from him. He was dragged to his knees by strong hands and the big dick rubbed between his buttocks.

Squall tensed even when knowing he should try to relax. Relaxing was impossible with a body that throbbed in pain and with the man preparing to enter him dry. The thick head was put against that cold numbed, tightly clenched hole.

Seraph took a breath and with a shift of hips and the use of hands he plunged inside and Squall’s eyes went wide and he couldn’t breathe. The man unmercifully ploughed straight inside to the hilt, spreading the cold walls to a breaking point.

The pain was unimaginable. Then he fully withdrew and Squall took a gushing breath. The pain stayed. Like a faint echo of the sudden intrusion. Then it pressed against him again and when the blond this time thrust fully inside a guttural sound was forced from Squall.

Not even his first time had been as bad as this was. As the man started thrusting, long hard smacks, it was all Squall could do to keep quiet. He couldn’t breathe because it would come out in a guttural whimper. The initial pain didn’t subside. It grew and the blond did nothing to ease it. He was soon slamming away on Squall as if he was a doll and the youth couldn’t wait for it to end so he could breath properly.

It seemed to go on and on forever and he started to wish he had been drugged silly so he hadn’t needed to be quite so aware. Strange, high noises was starting to escape him with the growing strength of thrusts and the resulting soreness and pain.

Finally Almasy gave a series of hard, uncontrollable thrusts that ended in a deep push. Squall found himself thinking it was disgusting with the man’s semen in his body. Then he wondered why he felt that. He had never felt so before.

Soon enough he was emptied and his hips released. Squall sunk down in the bed, not quite sure of what to do. So he stayed on his stomach in the position he had been let down in while Seraph left the bed and took away the tray with the detestable tools.

Squall turned slowly to his side and curled up somewhat with his back to the blond’s general direction. Don’t cry. It was over. Oddly enough he soon felt very sleepy. He was inclined to give in to the need but he was suddenly joined again.

Squall hissed as Seraph pressed up close to the sore backside. A strong arm circled the youth’s neck and sharp teeth teased his ear. He twisted as the other hand splayed over his stomach and moved down to stroke his thigh.

“I told you not to give up on me, the night is very long,” Seraph purred.


Author’s Note:
In the place where the author ought to sit:
*a cool breeze whispering through the trees behind a empty chair*