Captive

by Scarlet Blackwell

  Ethan was rinsing plates and pans and stacking them in the dishwasher, clattering them unnecessarily in a way that jarred Gabriel's head. “You're always so angry with me,” he said quietly.

  Ethan stopped what he was doing and turned around.

  "I don't want to fight with you anymore,” Gabriel continued. “I just need to get my writing done. I'm behind schedule."

  "It was you who stopped your writing getting done today by being a smartass,” Ethan pointed out with a glare.

  Gabriel said nothing.

  "Do you want to go up to write now?” Ethan asked.

  Gabriel shook his head. “My head hurts,” he said. “Can I lie down in the living room?"

  Ethan nodded. He closed the door of the dishwasher. “Come on,” he said.

  Gabriel got up and went through to the next room, lying full-length on the couch, face turned away from Ethan, who took the other couch. He closed his eyes and tried to drift away from all this.

  After five minutes of silence, he was unable to stop his eyes opening and moving to Ethan, turning over on his side to face him. “You saved my life today,” he said quietly.

  Ethan looked embarrassed.

  "Why did you bother?” Gabriel continued. “You could have had me out of the way."

  "Who would I have enjoyed the verbal sparring with then?” Ethan questioned in an irritated growl. “Why don't you go to sleep and give me some peace?” He reached for the remote and flicked on the TV.

  Gabriel sighed and turned onto his other side. His thoughts shifted to Jack. He couldn't help remembering the last time they had made love. There was a fight, an angry, ugly fight, a lot of crockery getting broken in the kitchen when Jack had swept everything off the table and forced Gabriel down over it. When they had lain there after, among the remains of their dinner, Jack still buried within Gabriel, his hands clutching at his, soft panting breath heating his neck, Jack had said this was the only way to shut him up. And Gabriel cried silently to himself as though he knew it would be the last time.

  Here on his solitary couch now in Alaska, he clutched a cushion to him and squeezed his eyes shut, willing the sudden uprising of emotion to go away. He had known as soon as he had boarded the plane to Anchorage that this was the end. He had known it deep down as Jack kissed him goodbye tenderly in the car, Jack who wouldn't show any kind of public emotion and so afterward had simply walked him to the boarding gate and brushed his fingers lightly over Gabriel's arm with a smile.

  But Gabriel knew. He knew. And he wanted to leave right now. He wanted to run back home and salvage his relationship with Jack. He would have to get the gun from Ethan. He would have to.

  He sat up. “I'm going to bed,” he said quietly.

  Ethan looked over at him in surprise. “Come on,” he said, switching the TV off.

  "It's early,” Gabriel said. “You don't have to come with me."

  Ethan shook his head. “I'm tired,” he said. “You're hard work."

  Gabriel glowered at him and moved past him to the stairs.

  He thought hard all the way up to the bedroom. He knew Ethan's gun was still tucked down the back of his jeans. He waited until Ethan had entered the bedroom behind him, and then he turned around abruptly.

  "Ethan,” he said quietly, putting a hand on the stranger's arm, closing the distance between them, attempting to kiss him.

  Ethan stumbled backward against the door, which merely slammed behind him, and Gabriel had him pinned there in an instant, one arm around his back, tantalizingly close to the gun, the other hand on the back of his neck, holding him in place.

  "Fuck...” Ethan protested, turning his face away so Gabriel's lips collided with his cheek. Once more Gabriel's hormones got the better of him now he was sandwiched up close and personal with the object of his desire. He was achingly stiff in an instant, sinking his lips into Ethan's neck and kissing feverishly.

  Ethan groaned. “Stop. Fucking stop,” he demanded, hands on Gabriel's shoulders, his attempts to push him away negligible much to Gabriel's delight.

  It was only by accident that Gabriel even remembered the gun, his fingers sweeping over it as his hand moved down to grope Ethan's backside. Immediately the tide of lust retreated and his hand moved back up firmly, under Ethan's shirt quick as lightning, and grasped the butt of the gun.

  Ethan was quicker than him. He shoved Gabriel backward hard and drew the gun all in one movement. Gabriel, frustrated and disappointed, regarded Ethan in dismay.

  "You fucking asshole,” Ethan spat with narrowed feline eyes. “You put your fag hands on me one more time, Gabriel, I swear...."

  Gabriel gave a sigh. He moved to the opposite side of the bed and sat on its edge, undressing, keeping his erection hidden. Once he was in T-shirt and boxers, he slid beneath the covers, lying turned away. He let his left hand lie out behind him, submissively inviting Ethan to cuff him.

  Ethan, however, left the room. Gabriel had drifted into sleep by the time he felt the bed shift behind him. Half-awake, he felt a body press against his and the metallic click of the cuffs. Fingers brushed his hand. For a moment Gabriel thought Jack was curled up beside him and he slid his hand into the palm of his captor's. A moment later he fell back into sleep.

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  Chapter Four

  Ethan was gone when Gabriel awoke from tormented dreams of being chained to a radiator and left to slowly starve. To his surprise he was not cuffed to the headboard. He got up quickly and went out onto the landing. The upstairs was silent. He could hear noise from downstairs in the kitchen. He was amazed Ethan had left him up here alone. Maybe he had finally realized Gabriel was so hot for him that he would not climb out of the skylight and risk plunging to his death from the roof in order to escape him, as much as he was desperate to run back to Jack.

  He went into the bathroom, not locking the door in case it made Ethan mad and he kicked it down. He climbed into the shower and started to shampoo his hair. He turned his thoughts away from how he had pinned Ethan against the door the previous evening and back to Jack. Jack, who had not called in over twenty-four hours. Something was wrong, but then something had been wrong when he had left. Why was he even surprised?

  His chest hurt when he thought of his partner and their impending demise. It also hurt when he touched the bruise Ethan had inflicted yesterday by saving his life. He cursed as his thoughts slid back to the green-eyed stranger. His hand moved down to stroke his morning wood. He couldn't jerk off here. Ethan could walk in at any moment. He ached as he touched himself. He wasn't sure who it was he was aching for, though. His fingers closed tighter around himself and his breath hitched in his throat. He could do it, he thought. It would only be a matter of a few more strokes and at last he would have some sort of relief.

  "What are you doing, Gabriel, as if I need ask?” a cold voice startled him.

  He moved his hand away, bracing both on the wall, keeping his back turned. “Washing,” he muttered.

  "Sure, looks like you are,” Ethan said sardonically. “Why don't you get out now? You look clean enough to me."

  Fuck it, Gabriel cursed silently, making no effort to move.

  "Now,” Ethan said.

  Gabriel turned abruptly around, glaring, pushing the shower door open hard. To his surprise, Ethan had his face turned to the wall. In relief, Gabriel grabbed a towel and dried himself vigorously before dragging on his T-shirt and boxers.

  Then he moved out of the bathroom before Ethan could stop him and into the bedroom where he pulled out some fresh clothes. Keeping his back turned to his captor who had followed him, he stripped. He knew Ethan's eyes were on him but it hardly mattered, he thought. Ethan had already seen him naked before.

  When he was dressed, his hard-on thankfully diminishing sullenly, he faced Ethan with a scowl.

  "Let's go, big boy,” Ethan said, gesturing with his gun.

  Gabriel moved down the stairs ahead of him both a little puzzled and a little flattered by Ethan's sta
tement. He went straight to the coffeemaker once in the kitchen and set it running, then he got two of everything out, setting the table the way Ethan had the previous morning, while Ethan sat eyeing him suspiciously.

  Finally he sat down and poured himself out some cereal, eating slowly, one eye on the coffee machine, waiting for it to finish. Ethan also ate some cereal, or at least he pretended to, spoon stirring it distractedly, eyes fixed in his bowl, not speaking.

  Suddenly there was the blaring of a Guns ‘n’ Roses song and Gabriel recognized his own ringtone coming from Ethan's pocket. His heart leaped up into his mouth. Ethan glared hard at Gabriel as he pulled it out and glanced at the screen.

  "Your boyfriend,” he said. “Finally. You say your writing's going fine, you're snowed in but you've got plenty of food, you're having a great time. If you give him even the slightest hint that I'm here I'll shoot you dead.” He stood up and came around to Gabriel's side of the table, dragging his chair with him.

  Gabriel sullenly reached out for the phone with a clammy hand and Ethan ignored him, instead flipping it open and putting the cell by Gabriel's ear. Then he sat down and leaned over, pressing his own right by the other side of it, so the two were closer than Siamese twins and Gabriel was once more overwhelmed by his scent and warmth.

  "Hi,” he said in an unsteady voice.

  "Hey,” came Jack's deep voice.

  Gabriel knew immediately there was something wrong. “What's up?” he asked, his two hands resting on the table in front of him and interlocking tightly. He could feel Ethan's breath on his face. “You didn't call last night,” he added lightly.

  "I know and I'm sorry,” Jack said. He gave a sigh. “Shit, Gabriel, I hate doing this when you're so far away. I wish I'd had the balls to do it to your face before you left."

  At which point Gabriel realized the moment he had been mentally preparing himself for, for the longest while, was here, with Jack thousands of miles away and a stranger pressed up close and personal with him, listening to the breakdown of his relationship. “You don't have to do this now, Jack,” he heard himself say, angry at the pleading tone in his voice. “Wait ‘til I get home. We need to talk."

  "No, Gabriel,” Jack said. “I can't wait two months for you to get back. I'm sorry. We both know things aren't the way they used to be. We're at the end."

  Gabriel lowered his head, eyes squeezed shut. Ethan was utterly still beside him.

  "I'm sorry,” Jack said helplessly.

  "Is there someone else?” Gabriel asked abruptly.

  "Shit, Gabriel...” Jack began.

  "That's a yes then.” Gabriel felt his sorrow turning to anger.

  "Let's not do this now...."

  "Oh, it's okay for you to dump me now, but not tell me who you've been screwing?” Gabriel asked sarcastically.

  "Fuck it. It's Jordan,” Jack said. “Happy? This isn't the way I wanted...."

  When Ethan heard the moan of pain that came from deep inside Gabriel, he snatched the phone away from his ear and slammed it shut, standing up and pocketing it. “You've had enough of that asshole for one day,” he declared.

  Gabriel whirled furiously around, rising from the table, hands curled into fists. “You fucking son of a bitch!” he screamed at Ethan, red-faced, eyes glittering. “Don't tell me when my conversations are at an end!"

  "Oh fuck off,” was Ethan's retort, who made to walk away before Gabriel got hold of him fiercely, dragging him back and launching a fist at him.

  It caught Ethan square on the face, almost knocking him to the floor. Sensing the upper hand for the first time as Ethan reeled back against the sink, Gabriel gripped him by the shirt, fist raised again, just as Ethan reached behind him and pulled out the gun, leveling it at Gabriel's chest.

  Gabriel halted in his tracks. “Move!” Ethan yelled furiously, shoving him backward, all the way across the room and back to his usual place of the radiator. Gabriel fell against it on his knees as Ethan cuffed both hands to the pipe and turned away, slamming the door behind him.

  Gabriel's head hung down until he burned his forehead on the radiator. With a hiss he shifted position, cuffed arms out to one side, and then he let his misery overwhelm him. This was not happening to him. Dumped by his partner of two years, who had been screwing his best friend, thousands of miles away from home, held captive by some escaped freak. He heard his own pants for breath as a strangled moan came out of him and he silently started to weep in earnest, fists clenched in the cuffs, nails digging into his palms.

  * * * *

  His throat ached with the effort of keeping silent as he cried and cried for what seemed like hours. Even as he was still in full flow, he heard the door open again. He tried to turn his face back to the radiator, but Ethan was there beside him, a rough hand to the back of his head for a brief moment.

  "Come on,” he said. “Pull yourself together."

  This made Gabriel cry harder. He bit his lip, stifling his sounds, head turned as far away from Ethan as he could. A moment later, a tissue was pushed into his hand. He brought it numbly to his face, blowing his nose and wiping the tears away. He put the tissue to the floor as another two were placed in his hand and he filled these up with snot also and discarded them.

  When, to his shock, Ethan then leaned over him and uncuffed him from the radiator, he was still crying too much to even move. He remained on his knees, head hanging down, aware Ethan was standing watching him and hating him for it.

  "Come on,” he heard Ethan say again. “Why are you wasting your time on someone who'd sleep with your best friend? You deserve so much better."

  Gabriel was suddenly riled by this. He lifted his tear-streaked face and shot back. “Like you, you mean?"

  Ethan flushed. “No,” he said slowly. “Not me. Why would I mean me? I'm not a fag."

  "Sure,” Gabriel said sardonically. “You don't mind whose mouth your cock's in."

  Ethan went redder, eyes narrowed. He moved closer, glaring down at Gabriel. “I did that to teach you a lesson—” he began.

  "You didn't teach me any kind of lesson,” Gabriel retorted. “I wanted to do that to you. I fucking wanted it!"

  "You wanted to do it in order to get the gun away from me,” Ethan argued as though Gabriel had not even made his last statement. “And it didn't work."

  Gabriel didn't really care anymore what Ethan thought. He was too upset, the tears still hot in his eyes. “When I had you in my mouth I didn't give a fuck about that gun,” he said in a rush. “I've been hard for you since the moment you walked in the fucking door. I just wish you'd give me five minutes alone in the bathroom to sort it out, you mean son of a bitch.” He hung his head again, teeth gritted, aware he had revealed far too much.

  Ethan was deadly silent. Then he slid abruptly down onto his knees in front of Gabriel. “You want me to let you go to the bathroom right now?” he questioned quietly.

  Holding his lip hard between his teeth, Gabriel shook his head. “I want you to do it,” he said in a low voice. He wasn't sure where the words came from. He actually braced himself to be hit by the gun and chained back to the radiator at any moment.

  Instead, after a long, long while, he felt a hand on his inner thigh, moving up to rub at his ever-present boner, and he gasped in shock and gratitude, hardly daring to hope his dreams of being touched intimately by Ethan were about to come true.

  The hand moved up, the thumb sliding the button of his jeans free, the zip pulled down relieving the pressure on Gabriel's cock. He did not dare look up at Ethan as he felt small fingers curl around his shaft and pull him free from his boxers carefully, slowly sliding him through them.

  He stifled a moan of utter delight. One hand came up to grip Ethan's shoulder to steady himself. Ethan seemed in no hurry. Gabriel imagined this might have been three or four rough jerks to get him off as quick as he could (and that really would have been all it would have taken), but Ethan was going about it leisurely, his grip firm but his strokes slow and steady.

&nb
sp; Already the orgasm was building in his thighs and stomach. Gabriel felt like screaming at the aching deliciousness of the way Ethan was getting him there. He wanted to put his hand over Ethan's and force him to go faster and yet, at the same time, he loved it. Because it meant he got longer contact with Ethan.

  "Oh, Ethan,” he groaned, unable to help himself. He inched closer on his knees to his pleasurer and the hand on his shoulder slid around his back so he could rest his head on Ethan's shoulder, face turned into his neck, nostrils twitching at the scent of his own aftershave.

  He was trembling now, pushing into Ethan's hand, the long-awaited release moments away. His other hand clutched at Ethan's waist. He was pressed close to him now, Ethan's hand sliding his T-shirt up and down with every movement he made, his erection jammed between their bodies, so Gabriel would probably catch one of them in the eye if they had the misfortune to be looking down when he came.

  "Oh God,” Gabriel moaned. “Fuck, please Ethan ... please.” He held onto Ethan tightly now, eyes squeezed shut as the first waves of orgasm flowed over him and he came in long spurts over the front of Ethan's T-shirt. He shuddered and trembled and gasped for the longest time as he rode the orgasm out, one of the most intense he could ever remember having, and then his face dropped against Ethan's neck and he clung to him, his heart pounding.

  Ethan did not hold him in return. He was too busy pulling tissues from the box and cleaning off his hand. Reality was intruding for Gabriel. He was kneeling on the kitchen floor with a stranger, having just been dumped by his long-term boyfriend. He stifled a whimper of misery. His lips sought the soft skin of Ethan's neck and he delivered a lingering kiss.

  Ethan abruptly jerked back. “Don't do that,” he admonished Gabriel. He put his hands up to his neck and removed Gabriel's arms from around him. Then he stood up quickly and moved to the sink, where he started to scrub his hands with soap as though he had a lethal substance on them.

  Gabriel quickly fastened his pants. If he had expected him and Ethan to cuddle and kiss in the afterglow of this, he was sadly mistaken. Ethan turned around, drying his hands. Then he came back over to Gabriel and gripped the empty cuff. “No, Ethan,” Gabriel sighed as he was attached back to the radiator.