by BA Tortuga
“I came for you.” He’d braved the scariest asshole on earth. A bunch of scary assholes, really. Boomer was a monster.
“You did, and he most definitely is.” Leaning, Neil kissed his mouth before grunting a little and settling back. “I think you should come kiss me.”
“I would be happy to. I just worry. I worry about hurting you.” That they’d come again, that, if he slept too hard…. He scooted forward, pressed his lips to Neil’s.
“Mmm.”
That was the happiest sound he could remember hearing in… well, maybe since that day on the beach in the South of France. He’d loved how happy Neil was there, loved how easy their life had been. He wanted to go back. Maybe he needed to.
The Valium started working, his eyelids getting a little heavy.
“There, love.” Poking at one of his curls, tucking it behind his ear, Neil smiled for him. “I do love you.”
“I love you. I’m sorry.” He kissed Neil’s face, relearning every inch.
“Good and no. Don’t be.” The smile curved against his mouth, Neil’s lips inviting and soft, no longer cracked and dry. He’d made Cowboy go get ChapStick.
“Okay.” Neil tasted so good. He’d been so scared and worried and…. His Neil.
Yours. Neil agreed, but not out loud. There was only kissing, not talking.
Something inside Paddy let go—weeks of caught-up thoughts and fears and hopes—everything offered to Neil. And Neil held on and took it, opening up and letting him kiss and need and worry and love. Neil took it all.
“Sorry. Need to.” He whispered the words into Neil’s mouth.
“Anything you need.” So giving. Why did Neil have to be so good to him?
He just kissed Neil again, rested against the man’s chest and listened to the steady beat of Neil’s heart.
“Are you feeling a little better, love? Do you think you can sleep?”
“I don’t want to. I want to watch, in case they come.” He blinked, so slowly.
“Well, Cowboy and Duncan are making enough noise that anyone would go after them first.” Neil stroked his back, up and down, a mesmerizing rhythm.
“They… they’re kind of… special.” Oh, Neil. So good. He’d missed being touched, missed his Neil, his beautiful, beautiful Neil.
“They are. Almost as entertaining as Manning and Robert Junior, hmm? I swear, Padraic, you were truly an oddity in your program.”
“I was the stupid one.” He knew that now. The smart ones got out or died. The lucky ones got killed.
“No. Paddy, you must stop. I’ll be forced to beat you.” The idea made him chuckle a little, because Neil wouldn’t do that.
“Just touch me, huh? I missed your hands.” He’d been so scared. So scared.
“Of course.” The bandaged hand held him close while the other moved, and Neil touched him everywhere, stroking his hair, his cheeks, letting him feel.
If there were tears, neither of them mentioned it or noticed, because Paddy was falling asleep and Neil was safe.
Safe, damn it.
DUNCAN LOOKED at Cowboy. Stared.
His.
His.
The growl climbed up his throat, and he dragged one hand down the fuzzy chest, heading for his Cowboy’s cock. “Again.”
He needed to touch more.
Needed.
Now.
Colby was panting, staring at him, gray eyes all but swallowed by the dilated pupils. “Again? Babe. You’re gonna kill me.”
“No.” No, he’d never hurt Colby. Just love him.
Again and again.
“No, I mean a good kill.” Colby winked, lunging at him, knocking him back down on the bed.
He rumbled happily, hands landing with a slap on the hard muscles of Colby’s ass. He could feel the Other, the Teacher Man, right behind his eyes, wanting to play. He pushed the Other away, shoving hard. Later. His Cowboy.
Cowboy arched and moaned, pushing into his hands, giving him ideas about what he could do. That ass. His hands. His cock.
He squeezed hard, yanked Colby closer, and started moving them together. “Want. Want in.”
“Yeah. Yeah, honey. Come and get me.” Cowboy all but crawled on top of him, thighs straddling his hips.
His Cowboy was still slick and open from his fingers, his tongue, so he didn’t spend much time babying the man; he just rubbed his prick over the swollen hole.
Cowboy nodded, panting, and pushed back against his cock, opening right up for him. Taking him in, generous and heated.
Moaning, he dragged his Cowboy down for a kiss, tongue fucking the soft lips.
They rocked together, Cowboy rising and falling on his cock, making him groan and shift. He could do this all day and all night.
Maybe they should. The longer they kept fucking, the longer Cowboy was safe.
Happy.
Close.
Right now, Cowboy was quite happy. And close. Maybe not safe from him. Not the way they were slapping together.
“Cowboy.” His fingers found one nipple, tweaked it hard.
“Uh-huh. That’s it, Doc. Harder.” That ass clamped down on him, squeezing all along his length.
“Hard….” His eyes crossed, hips pumping up. “Harder.”
“Yeah. More. Jesus, babe.” Cowboy ground down against him, grunting, almost begging him.
He growled, muscles bulging as he spun them, slamming into his Cowboy hard enough that the bed shook.
“Uhn.” Wrapping arms and legs around him, Colby pulled him down, making him give and give. Perfect.
“Mine. So good. So good.” He snarled the words, teeth bruising Colby’s skin.
“Yours. Christ, babe. All yours.” Short, blunt nails scored his back.
The sting sent him over the edge, howling with the pure pleasure of it, of the heat around his prick. Cowboy grunted, coming hard and fast for him, spunk spraying his skin. Yes. Together. His Colby.
His. His own.
He collapsed down on Colby, holding his lover close. Rest.
Sleep.
Stay.
NEIL STARED at the ceiling, listening to his heartbeat, feeling it in his broken fingers. Throb. Throb.
Really, getting tortured in the movies always left the protagonist with some sort of moral high ground to stand on. In real life, it simply left you sore, grumpy, and perhaps a bit bent, mentally.
Sighing, Neil shifted a little, his mind automatically searching for Paddy’s, shying away from Duncan, who burned bright nearby, and from Manning, who was… somehow always there now.
That spot where Manning was terrified him a bit. It was dark there, diseased, desperately ill, but alive.
Paddy groaned and pushed closer, worrying and fretting even in his medicinal sleep. Neil. Neil. Neil.
“Shh. Shh, love. I am right here.” Poor Padraic. He was so torn up about all of it, and Neil was only glad they were alive and together.
Neil. Love. Love. The words were like a mantra, echoing in Padraic’s head over and over.
“Yes. Love you.” Breathing deep, Neil tried to find his center, tried to put his brain back in the little box he kept it in.
A rush of pure, unadulterated happiness hit him like a wave, drowning out everything else, Paddy’s very soul rejoicing in him. A happy laugh bubbled up in his chest, making him smile, making his hands reach out for Paddy’s skin. Yes. Wonderful.
Paddy was warm, laughing, still asleep.
Sweet man. He did love Paddy so.
“Love you.” Paddy kissed his jaw, his cheek. “You’re safe.”
“I am.” He was. He knew it. That man had Manning now, and Greg didn’t want Neil, didn’t care that he was gone.
There was the periodic thought about coming after Sonny, making sure he was dead. Neil could hear that, and a distressing whisper that Manning and Paddy were the only two of Greg’s boys left alive. The only two that could tell anyone what had been done to them.
Those bright, warm eyes met his, Paddy more there,
more solid. “How do you feel?”
“I feel like ice cream. How about you?” He would love some ice cream. His gums were still a bit sore sometimes, and Cowboy had very much the same idea of food as Paddy. Chips, Pop-Tarts, and many things with rough edges. Good thing both Manning’s mother and Duncan liked ice cream.
“Mmm. Ice cream.” Paddy nodded and padded off, headed toward the kitchen, arse bouncing a bit.
Ah, that had been a good idea, then. He never knew if it was going to be rain or sun with any suggestion at any time.
Neil stretched and winced, his muscles protesting a bit. Still, it wasn’t nearly as bad as what happened when he closed his eyes.
It didn’t take Paddy long at all to come back, soft whistling on the air, two bowls of ice cream in hand.
“What sort of flavor have we?” He made a show of sitting up on his own, which he knew would make Paddy beam.
“Chocolate and coffee, and I brought your pain pills too.” Paddy’s eyes were shining, lit up.
“Oh, bless you, love. I do appreciate it.” Yes, he was starting to have the shooting pains, radiating up from his hip and his one toe, and his balls still ached….
Paddy whimpered softly, that guilt black as night before his Padraic hid it away from him. So many things Paddy had learned over the last several weeks.
“Now, if we had chocolate sauce, I could watch you bounce.” He slammed the lid back down on the blacker thoughts, trying to keep Paddy in the light.
“No chocolate sauce. There were cherries, though.” Each bowl had a single maraschino cherry on top.
“Ah, the unnatural cherry. You know how I adore them.” He and Paddy had explored the world of ice cream toppings very thoroughly once upon a time. Truthfully, Neil loved caramel, but the cherries could be fun.
“I do.” Paddy looked at him, eyes quiet and sad. “I need to touch you, Neil.”
He wasn’t sure if Paddy said it out loud or not.
His eyes stung, and Neil cursed the emotions that seemed so close to the surface. “Why do you have to ask, love? Come and get me.”
Paddy took the time to give him his pills, hand him his ice cream. Then his love stripped down and crawled onto the bed, hands wrapping around his feet, thumbs working the soles.
That sent him off into a chorus of moans, his toes curling. “Oh. Paddy. Good.”
“Mmm.” The touches were gentle but thorough, Paddy’s fingers on his ankles, on his toes.
Neil flexed his toes, chuckling at the near ticklish sensation. Paddy could be almost meditative with the touching. Paddy’s thoughts were quiet, soft and simple, focused on the feeling of his skin, of the tiny little blond hairs on his calves.
Neil closed his eyes and let Paddy’s mind caress him as much as the hands were. It was sweet not to have the oily black feeling of guilt or the red-tinged anger. Or, worse, the dark green fear, slimy, like algae in stagnant water.
Soft, tuneless humming filled the air, Paddy’s lips caressing the inside of his knee, along his thigh. One soft kiss stroked his ball sac.
His whole body rocked, but only a little, more like a boat rocking on gentle water. He wasn’t so much aroused as pleased. Happy. Content.
Paddy moved up, touching his cock, not giving it more or less attention than any other part of him before moving to his hips. It warmed him, inside and out, the attention Paddy paid him. The parts of him that were still bruised got the barest caresses; the others got deeper touches.
By the time Paddy’s lips brushed his, he was melted, down to the bone.
“Love.” He reached up, his fingers trailing over the too-long curls at the back of Paddy’s neck. “Oh, thank you.”
“Thank you. I needed that, so much.”
“So did I, and I had no idea I did.” Was he babbling? He rather thought if he was, Paddy would understand.
Paddy settled against him, fingers still moving, always touching.
He let Paddy soak into his skin, let everything else float away. Except… “We should share some ice cream.”
Paddy chuckled. “We so should.”
They got all settled about on the bed, him half sitting up, Paddy next to him, and his sweet love fed him with a spoon. Poor Padraic still felt like he had to make up for… for all the bother.
“Stop it. I want us to be together.”
“Well, then, we must both work to get Manning back, and then get on with our life, yes? I think we should go back to the South of France.”
“I’d like that. You and me. Your bicycle. Books.”
“My crazy hat and your fifty-strength sun lotion.”
“Yes. Bread and cheese and that yummy wine.”
“The berries you bought in town.” It had been such a short part of their time together, but they had both loved it with a deep passion.
“I liked kissing you after you ate those.”
“Yes.” The ice cream made a decent foil for Paddy’s warmth when they shared their next kiss, though.
My Neil.
The words echoed in him.
“Yes, love.” Yours. He sent the last word through touch, through the ether, knowing Paddy would hear. You came for me. You never once doubted you would find me.
No. No, I had to. I couldn’t leave you there. Paddy smiled, nodded. I couldn’t.
Neil understood. He would have done the same for Paddy, no matter what. “I love you.”
“I know.”
“Good. Then we can rest for a bit.” His eyelids were weighed down with sandbags. They must be.
“Yes.” The ice cream bowls were set aside, Padraic in his arms, close and quiet.
They lay together, their breathing slowing, peace finally settling on them like a blanket, at least for now. And if there was one thing Neil had learned over the last six weeks, it was that you had to take peace where you could find it.
Chapter Three
THE JOLT to the bottoms of his feet made his jaw clench hard enough that he bit through his tongue, the sides of his lips cracking with the grimace. One of his ribs was broken, four of his fingers, eight of his toes.
If he still had all of them.
He hoped so. He needed them to surf.
The room was bright, he thought, but they’d put something in his eyes earlier—something in his eyes and something in the shunt in his neck. Something to make all this easier for them. He wasn’t sure he was seeing much, and if he was, if it was real.
There were real things left in the world, though. He knew that. He knew it. There were real things and he’d find them again. One day. “That all you got, fucker?”
The longer they had him out here, tied to this table, the longer he was out of the cage. The longer he could breathe.
The better chance he had that somebody’d kill him.
“No, Manning. We have so many more tricks up our sleeves.” Greg’s voice was happy, cheerful, almost perky, and MJ felt a tiny fissure of fear, of hopelessness, before he stomped it down.
“Goodie. Can’t wait.”
He heard the swish of something, and then agony exploded in his balls and the world went bright red.
SONNY WOKE up feeling much more clearheaded, his brains feeling like they were mostly back where they belonged. That should-oughta be a good thing, but he really wasn’t sure it was.
MJ was alive, according to little Red, and that? That scared the bejesus out of him.
Scrubbing a hand over his beard, Sonny said a mental fuck it and went to check the door. If they hadn’t locked him in, he would shower and shave and find some food.
Then he could figure what to do next.
The doorknob turned, opening up into a hallway. There was a skinny, long-haired lady in a T-shirt and a pair of shorts coming his way. Eyes that were blue, maybe green, looked up at him, blinked.
“So, which one are you?”
“Pardon?” This had to be MJ’s momma, but she surprised him enough to fall into the polite ways his momma had taught him. “I’m sorry. I’m Robert. Uh, Sonny. I
go by Sonny, ma’am.”
“Sonny? As in ‘Ma, this is the one I want you to meet, he’s it,’ Sonny?”
His cheeks heated, and ridiculously, he shifted from foot to foot. “I—yes, ma’am. I suppose so.”
“You’re taller than I expected. Pretty eyes, though. His father had lovely dark eyes.” She held out one hand. “I’m Nan. Well, I legally changed my name to Tigerblossom, but Manning gets cross about that. I suppose you can just call me Ma, if you’d like.”
“Uh. Um.” Walk it off, Sonny. “Thank you. I’ll go with Nan, if that’s all right.”
“That’s fine. I’m going to go smoke a little. I…. That man, the one with the anger management issue and deep need for an aura cleansing? He says that Manning’s fine, but I don’t believe him.”
“Fine, huh?” Swallowing the bile, Sonny shrugged. “He’s alive.”
“So was his father.” Those eyes were just like MJ’s. Just.
“I know.” He tried not to gag. If Precious was getting hurt like that… well. Maybe Neil could find a way to kill MJ with his mind.
“Yeah. Okay. I…. Are you going to get him? Is somebody?”
“Yes.” That was something he did know. No matter what, he was going to bring MJ home.
“Good. I…. I need to know you won’t… that he isn’t…. He’s my baby boy, you know?”
“I know.” MJ was his too. He so knew. Suddenly Sonny just knew he was going to go crazy before this was all over. He was just gonna lose it.
Nan reached out, patted his cheek. “You need to shave, Robert, and possibly eat. You’re pale.”
“I was fixing to go shave.” His knees tried to buckle again, and Sonny told them firmly to straighten up and not embarrass him in front of MJ’s momma. He could think about MJ shaving him later.
“Good boy. You tell Manning, when you get him, that… that….” She sighed. “Shit, man. I don’t know. Tell him something amazing.”
Sonny grinned a little, feeling like some sort of bubble had popped behind his ears, letting the world come back into focus. He grabbed Nan and hugged her tight. “He’s got a way better imagination than I do. I’ll just tell him to imagine what his momma would say at a time like that.”
