Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"End ... this is the end."

He was the last survivor. He was alone again. He was alone for everything. Alone, in this never-ending hell. Everyone who was his friends ... whom he thought he could trust, to help each other from the worst...was gone.

As soon as they had the last generator left, they split up. Jake took him by the shoulder and pointed to the last generator, while David and Meg were supposed to be the bait. Everything was planned, everything went well. The killer had no chance. Luck was on their side during this trial.

"Finish it. I'm going to the lever."

Dwight nodded and continued to repair. Everything was going to work out. Everyone was supposed to survive.

*Click*

The generator has been repaired. But not the one Dwight was working on. He was confused, but... the goal was clear. The lever was behind two crumbled walls ... just stick to the ground and not scare the crows.

"L-Let's go. Jake should turn on the switch." Dwight shook his hands and couraged imself. "Like you are trying to escape from those... co-worker idiots."

Dwight rushed out of the crumbled shack and focused on the nearest switch. Everything went smoothly. The killer didn‘t strike either of them, hanging no one on the hook. The crows were… peaceful…

*Screaming*

Meg was hurt. The killer took the bait.

Wait. Why is it so far? Sure, it was bait. The killer got caught. It's time…

"Should I watch them? Jake? A-Are you here?"

*Clang*

The gate was opened. On the other side of the map. The killer hurt Jake ... on the other side. He had to go to them. He had a single medicine case. He had no time to open the second entrance. The plan was to stick together.

Dwight saw his friends through the bond. He was close to both of them. He felt it. He felt the hope of seeing them all. Just a little more…

*SNAP*

His ankle was trapped. He roared from his lungs and dropped to the bleeding ankle.

He was caught.

Tears blinded his eyes. It hurt too much… but his friends would help him. He sees him. They'll help him open the trap.

Heartbeat. Increasing heartbeat.

"Help me!" He begged with tears in his eyes. The trap was too deep. And it was rusty… it was an incredible pain.

Red light. Heart beat at maximum. He could hardly breathe. He was right above him.

Trapper. A scary look at his bloody mask. At that twisted, never-disappearing smile.

"Lost. Kitten."

It speaks! Or it was Dwight's imagination. But he was breathing. It sounded much loud through the mask. Dwight kicked his legs, trying to snatch a trap while trying to crawl to the others. To the others…

He saw their glances.

They looked at him. But they didn't move. They left him on the ground. They left him to the killer. After exchanging glances, they all turned and ran into the exit.

They left him.

He was alone. Like his whole life. No friends. No one he could trust, no one he could love ... they were all the same. Everyone was against him. His co-workers… his friends…

"I...can't do it."

Be a good boy. Mom always said.

Be a good boy. Work hard on yourself, on your work. Find a job that earns you a lot of money. Find a beautiful lady. You'll marry her, you'll have a big family, in a big house in a quiet street. You'll take good care of them because you're my perfect son. Got it? Mothers are always right ... you should always listen to them...

But, what now, Mom? They let me die here as an unwanted subversor…

“Abandoned. Injured. Kitten. Begging for life."

Trapper muttered again through the mask. It was a miracle that he could understand… and that he could speak… terrible feeling.

Dwight tried his best to crawl with the trap around the ankle, but the immediate pull back put him back a few meters back. He digged his fingers into the ground, leaving a deep groove in the ground.

"No! Please don't!" Dwight begged with tears in his eyes, literally blinded by them. His hands filled with dirt covered his face so that his last memory was not Trapper's hideous mask. "Please ... I don't want to die ..." His face was from clay, tears and saliva. A tragic look at him would. Trapper had to literally enjoy his last victim…

But nothing happened.

Time… ran out. Or not?

The only thing that he was forcibly turned on his back, by a strong pull on his hair. Dwight couldn't even breathe as he held the pain between his teeth.

"Kitten. You can't  hide. I want. See."

Dwight felt a strong grip on one of his quivering arms. Without a chance, Trapper removed his hand from his face. So for more control, Trapper slammed his wrist into the ground. It literally stood on his wrist...something crunched.

“A-Ahahaaghaa! No, no please don't! Please. I'll do anything! D-Do it fast! I don‘t want this anymore…"

Trapper breathed deeply. Through the disgusting mask, it was so loud that, despite Dwight's loud requests, it came to his ears.

"More." He leaned fully into his broken wrist. He leaned forward to enjoy every single movement on Dwight's thwarted face, full of pain and tears.

Now he could hear Trapper's breathing. Deep accelerated breathing.

He enjoyed it. His gaze from the height with full control... the perfect situation for the killer. And the worst situation for the survivor ... if not the victim.

The question of what in Dwight's reaction did not produce any response other than a louder cry of mercy and a quick end to his suffering.

That was the game.

The Entity wanted to be fed with the hopes of the survivors, and when he was left alone ... what the murderer could do other than fulfill the most disgusting desires on the single survivor.

Then ... why didn't he hang him on the hook? This is the main attraction of this never-ending nightmare.

Chasing, mutilating, hanging, waiting, re-chasing, more mutilating, hanging, summoning Entity, futile struggle with claws…

And then the end…

And then again…

And again…

And again…

He never remembered the faces around the fire when he returned to the campsite. They didn't recognize him either. Essentially, the names were useless… why would the walking corpses remember the names… was it actually his real name? Wasn't it just another disgusting Entity game? What if Dwight was not Dwight? What if it's just a human box that has been given certain memories, personality, name…

Just to improve the game…

"Please! I do not want this anymore! My hand! Aghhh! I want to get out of here! Finish it! I can't! ”

Nothing.

He just stared.

And he breathed deeply.

"Kitten. Wants. End. Voluntarily."

What was worse? Crushed wrists under heavy weight without the slightest chance of escape, or constant domination of the killer‘s aura.

Giving up was the easiest way to less suffering. Ir wasn’t his first or the last death. It always hurted.

Hit.

Earthing.

Crawling up.

Limp.

Hit.

Stabbing.

"Y-Yes. I want. I no longer want to feel pain… please… "

Trapper tilted his mask with a crooked smile to the side. It looked more like he broke his neck. Scary. And then ... he did something special.

He released Dwight's crippled wrist and knelt on his injured shoulder. During this process he was hung twice. The third hook would be the last. The Entity would be satisfied.

Dwight gripped his teeth tightly to avoid another unnecessary lamentation. All were useless. Why should a killer listen his futile endeavors for quick death when he could enjoy the best to the end.

Especially Trapper, guiding his victims into rusty traps that snap their jaws so deep into the survivor's ankle that they have no chance of escaping.

"Open."

"Huh-aaaaghhh!"

He poked something in his mouth. Something soft, like clay.

"Swallow it!" But that didn't help release Dwight's neck. Panic, fear and anxiety didn‘t allow him to open his mouth enough to let the mysterious thing pass through his larynx. He shook his head steadfastly, while the violent pain swallowed his injured shoulder.

With a narrow larynx he could not swallow even a bite of forced something. His eyes drowned in tears, and his stomach turned inside out. He couldn't swallow. He just couldn't.

Was it a new challenge? To kill the last survivor with a weapon other than his main? Was it poison?

Swallow.

He swallowed one small bite.

Trapper was searching his disgusted expression.

Success.

Dwight's shoulder was freed from severe and burning pain, spreading evenly through his body. Then he swallowed again. And again. It tasted more like mud than clay, but he swallowed. Except for the ones that fell from corners of his mouth. Did he eat a third of it? Half of it? All.

He didn't feel well. Without affecting the hole in his shoulder, still clutching the past in his ankle ... his head twisted. Literally. A gray mist overflowed his vision and made friends sink into the ground…

"Hope I...I have some bandages at home...maybe doc could help me out..."

Whose words were they?

Chapter Text

"Why am I here?" Trapper looked around and felt more than unwelcomed in this...strange place of uknown and moving fog. Like it had its own life.

"After such a long time, are you actually starting to ask?" Male voice. Deep, but calm. Older possibly, but truth was hidden. Behind fod itself. It was protecting him. From who?

He was the first to ask why and how, and where, and what, and his legacy.

"What ya want? I fill the Archive accordin‘ to the situation." He heard that voice. Female voice this time. From who? There just him and the man in fancy chair.

"I have no doubts about it. You have the best results of all my figures…are you having fun?" He laughed a bit. He sip from his small glass a brown clear liquid. Whiskey perhaps?

Trapper sighed deeply through the mask and rubbed his bloody hands. He didn't feel safe without his weapon or his traps. It would be something… but he had no chance against Entity. With no weapon and no way escape. That was the game, eh?

"Does my answer matter?"

Man in the veil of darkness laughed from his lungs. The room full of books shivered. The dark fog thickened. It flowed around Trapper's ankles.

Like he was trapped.

"Of course it matters. Why would I want have bored figures? Without life, without vigor, without emotion. My dearest loves emotions, especially when she touches them…"

Their wailing as they try to break free from my arms. The effort when my claws touch their skin. The cry of hope when they are mine…

"Ya finished? Both of ya..."

"On the contrary! I‘ve just started! I just got carried away by the sweet words of my beloved."

Then there was silence. The thick fog had ceased, the heavy air spread, the room they were in revealing its inner structure.

Library.

My net is knitted by emotions. It fills me with knowledge … and I don't have enough.

"Figures fill individual pages of my books through the desires of my beloved ... your library is striking compared to others, which is the answer to my question - you are really having fun in our spider web."

"Ain‘t a figure. None of us. Just…trapped." He sighed briefly as he looked on his library

"Just like the survivors in your traps. We have something in common...nothing less. We are wasting time that we can spend on entertainment. My dear has found something very close to you…your creation?"

A sketchbook appeared next to him, crumbling page by page. Every single paper was yellowed, the corners slightly moist, some leaves showing signs of early disintegration.

Drawings and sketches. Environment, things, faces. Most of the facial sketches belonged to the same person.

"These are very nice drawings. You have potential. But let's look at those that have more…depth in it? Can I say that?"

All drawings depicting hooks, rubble and ruins disappeared. Just a sketch of a person.

One person.

"As if he stood you as a model. And those expressions...accurately depicting his whole nature."

Crouching in the fog, he looks up quietly. The heat of the fire lit his face. What is it that makes him special? Why did he become the target of his weakness?

One person. From many angles. Many expressions. Smile. Dismay. Uncertainty. Fatigue. Nervousness.

"Or you are still very close to the fireplace. Hidden…like a real predator. Do you like him?"

He didn't answer. He stared at the individual sketches of one survivor. Intelligent-looking, frightened, nervous… poor eyesight, shaking hands. Sometimes it was a challenge to capture one position and even hold to it. And then there was a moment when his model was absolutely calm. He even managed to...smile.

He liked the sketch. He was innocent, though he wore signs of fear. And still…he was very innocent.

"I guess I have my answer. And what if I offer you that you can have him?"

“Hm? How?"

Desire to own. Not out of emotion. Not out of compassion. From need. Out of his own unsatisfied need to possess what he was denied from an early age. He said it was wrong. That it is more than a sin to have such desires. And he did, but his father's fists were more convincing than a cry for help.

"You're finally giving me a look." All the drawings appeared before him. "Calm down. Your creations are safe… I am not your father."

That wasn't the right move… maybe for everyone else. He knew where to push the sensitive spot.

"I'm just trying to pull some emotion out of you ..."

"How can I get him?"

“Your father is dead, isn't he? Trapped in a basement. Left for hunger, thirst and loneliness. Will you take care of the survivor in the same way? As a pet they can learn and obey, as a figure is more valuable to me. The plan is very simple."

The fog embraced him and formed a map with various points and tasks.

"Step by step. Mission after mission. What my dear asks. Do it and you will get your chosen one."

Just shouting, wailing, empty hope, empty words and back in my arms. I want to hear his moaning, begging, begging for life. A pinch of hope will also shine in you when you are at the very end of your journey.

"You are my favorite figure. And I want you to be rewarded for your efforts. Every reward costs something. Complete the tasks my dear wants and he is yours. Don’t be worry, no shortcuts, no fraud. Keep in mind, however, that everything has one life. Take care of him, do whatever you desire with him. Every life has its price and every treatment has its limit. One chance, one move. Unless, of course, you don’t want this game—"

"I take it."

"You can lose everything or get him forever."

Forbidden fruit. So long held in the closet. Long and brutally tortured. He wants out, he wants to scream, he wants to yell, he wants to taste what he was denied.

"Enjoy the hunt. When you receive your award, your work is not over. But you will always be pleased that someone will always welcome you home. Now leave."

Without a word he went through the fog. The only thought was guiding him…

"Mine. He will be mine. Forever…" His last words...for now and for the rest of hunts.

Something to eat, something to drink, something to warm up. Anything that gave him what his father had taken from him. To be who he wanted to be. Not a puppet, not a murderer… or at least be loved for who he is. A small touch, a small kiss, a small smile, a little appreciation ... so little is enough to leave behind only a great storm of the unknown.

"I didn't know you wanted to know more... even from this side." He finished his drink and the glass disappeared. Then he stood up and came closer to the fog. Like it was hugging him.

They call them monsters. Freaks. Inhuman creatures. Without emotions. Without a hint of… humanity. And here it is ... even monsters can show emotions. To show mere humanity in someone else. Where the secret lies? What is the mystery of when a man becomes a monster and then the monster becomes a man? Is there a sleeping monster in every person, or in every monster there is a hidden person… one or the other needs the opposite of themselves to be functional… as we are.

"Yes. As we are. My love."

Chapter Text

"Ya're at an age when we should talk about girls. Go on. ‘m listenin‘." His voice was firm. Decisive. He wanted to know the answers. Nothing else cared. Archie MacMillan.

"Well… there are none. Whatcha wanna know… I thought ya were only interested in your work and your reputation." The young man sipped a glass of water. He didn't look at his father. Why should he? Just to humiliate him.

Again.

“Me, at your age, I used to turn to ay pretty girl. Until your mother came. I just want to tell ya, that ya still have time to turn around for skirts. I don't want a naive girl, poor and stupid, to get into your head, tangled ya around as pet. Then ya will fuck up yer work. And bein' usless for me!"

That raised a lot of questions in the young man. Though ridiculous. He had to ask. With a scratch?

"What skirt would I turn fo‘? Everyone wears overalls. No normal girl gets in here. Your reputation and warnin‘ signs on the edge of the estate will discourage them. And why should they be stupid and poor?"

He tried to hide his laughter. He knew he was confronted with a slap or a straight blow after every junk laugh.

"Poor people cannot afford education, and non-educators send their poor daughters to wealthy men and try to fool their sons."

"Ya sayin‘ this..." He might whisper a little loud.

"Anythin‘ to say, maggot?" As usual. Whoever disagreed with him, or had the slightest reproach... the increase in voice and the beginnings of violence were commonplace.

Who dared to resist Archie MacMillan...was punished worse than ever. Employees, minners who, despite pressure and tyranny, waited patiently for Evan's takeover of the business. They were friends and believed that there was at least some humanity in the young one.

Unlike his father. A monster with a human face… and an even worse reputation.

"No. Nothin‘ to say… sir." He lowered his eyes and put his hands in his lap. Defeated. Humiliated. Everything better than broken month and being anble only to suck food through a straw.

"Focus on the work and don't let the weakness love, make ya even weaker. Love is for weaklings who cannot use brain! And ya’r my son, so no weaknesses can stand in your way. Do ya understand me?! Or should I beat it into your fuckin‘ head, huh?!"

"I-I understand. Sir."

"Finish dinner. Let's check some traps." The head of the family stood up from the table, leaving the young man alone in dinning room. Looking at the plate, he lost his appetite. But he couldn't afford another disobeyed order. Finally, his bruises had disappeared from his face and he finally had heard on his left ear… so much since the last lesson…

Trap patrol was one of the more enjoyable duties in his challenging daily program. Opening traps in the right place, preferably in tall grass or in confusing terrain. It was a sign of calculations and ... ingenuity. Thinking like a poor animal that gets caught in one of the many prepared traps.

The young man knew very well that the traps served not only as an emergency for bear migration, but rather as the movement of unsolicited people.

No employee had access to those parts of their land...so that a stupid beast or an even foolish thief or troublemaker could get caught in sharp rusty traps. The young man also had to wash and grind all unused bear traps in the evening. His another duty. Some of them had thick, dried blood on them… but he had never seen the unfortunate animal caught in them…

Sometimes he found part of the fabric…

As long as the patrols were peaceful, the young man had enough time to think about many of the issues that plagued his youthful nature and his desire to experiment. The only thing he could experiment with was the album in which he hid his drawings. Small sketches and drawings of everything that seemed at least a little interesting. And what could be seen through the window of a small room or during walks. Tree outside the window, fallen leaves, trap in the grass, woodpecker or other creature in the branches…

And even…the weak scream of despair.

The faces of those he considered his friends. The faces of those who saw better in him than his father.

The one face of someone who caused confusion in him. In little man, who wasn't ready to...

The one face was a relatively normal guy from a family with three children. Longtime member of hard working party of workers. He always found a reason to smile. Despite the necessity to wear glasses, his eyes were red and his face was full of dirt. He was the one who praised the young man for his drawings. He was the one who finally told him, "Good job, ya have talent! Ya should pursue art. Ya have the hands of an artist, not a worker. Oy guys, look what our future boss can do!"

It was a little thing...that had been forever in his chest. He was just...a normal funny guy who could appreciate something his father…deeply hated and destroyed every single drawing.

Just a few words. Just a stupid smile and a sincere praise.

*Ba-dum*

*Ba-dum*

*Ba-dum*

The young man was lost. His chest ached several days later. He thought about his words. He was thinking about him...too long. Not only over him...over all who were kind to him. But the one was...special.

It was deep night and then his erection showed up. His candle on the night table was still burning. In fact, he was shocked. Not from the candle, from his erection. He didn't understand why it happened. Well, he knew there was a tenting in the morning and sometimes just...just like that. But now...he was thinking about somebody and ... whop. It’s up, and Lord have mercy, it hurts.

His gloomy and tortured imagination took control and his hand slipped under his pajamas.

Weird. Too weird. But on the contrary, very pleasant… and…

"Good job, ya have talent!"

His voice. His face. His smile. His hands touching him. At that spot. Everywhere.

"Ya should pursue art. Ya have the hands of an artist, not a worker."

A rush of heat embraced him, and his pace and grip were… unstoppable. He covered his mouth to not waking up his parents sleeping just opposite his door.

"Hey, ya're better than your father. Would ya do somethin‘ for me? Just a little thin‘. Ya‘re young and inexperienced, maybe I could teach ya somethin‘. Come ‘ere."

It wasn't his words…but it sounded like that. His friend's voice, along with greedy imagination, created a lethal cocktail to complete his sensuality.

"I can't work with it. Just take it in the mouth and suck, okay? And try not to bite me. My wife wouldn't like that."

Fantasy took the reins. Two fingers broke into his mouth, creating a simulation that was all too real in his imagination. He had never done anything like this, had seen… only a few magazines hidden under the mattress… but none of them had what stimulated his mouth, his crotch, or his imagination.

"Ya smart, y‘know that? Yeah, just like that. Mhmmm. Swallow me. Yes. Good boy. Are ya a good boy? Ya want to do me good, right? Suck more, ya can do it."

And yet it was so real. The pressure in his mouth, the saliva flowing from, the culminating feeling of the unknown that culminated in a screaming muffled pillow…

It was incredible… and weird. And disgusting. He came so hard, he bit his finger, his eyes rolled up to his head, forcing himself to moan as low as possible.

He wanted more and at the same time wanted to hit himself in face…

Another weakness... but this was not father's knowing. This time. It couldn’t be. It mustn’t be! At any cost!

During the walks he could think about it and see that what happened as just a coincidence. Or just weakness.

A strong guy is supposed to be able to do his job, not to deal with useless things like art. His father used to say when he was referring to the already destroyed young man's drawings. He often mentioned his brother, young man’s uncle, that he was the same weakling. A philanthropist, and ended up as a toy for bears.

How was the story really, eh? Who killed who? And was there a bear at all?

"It looks good. No bear or fag that would disrupt our business." They checked few bear trap and fix some which were closed, but without victim. This time...

"Father, what is a fag?" The young man asked quite bravely as he checked the security of one of the traps.

"That's the worst thing a guy can be. No, he's not a guy anymore, it's a mistake of nature and education." Father showed clear signs of disgust.

"And what are they doin‘ so bad?" Oil in place. Trap should not be so clear. On the open plain.

"Men who are fuckin' and suckin' another men, another faggots. Disgustin' creatures, worthy of rope at most, because the bullet is too good for such disgustin' individuals."

The young man's stomach moved. He couldn't look into his father's eyes, who meanwhile praised their state system… about detaining homosexual suspects and some brutal cases where men themselves were raped and subsequently executed.

"That's why I only employ married men who have families. Not only are they well handled, but they're not fuckin‘ fags either. All the men who aren't married in their thirties are obvious faggots. Remember it. If one is a fag in the gang, everybody is! It‘s a disease that must not spread. As soon as someone comes to ya, act immediately. Punch the soul out of him to learn to fuck what was made to be fucked.”

The young man was appalled by his father's sayings. Like never before. The stomach cramp was painful, his throat tight. One hand began to shake, and he had to put it in his pocket.

"Ya silent. Is there anythin‘ ya want to say?"

"N-No, sir. T-Thanks for explainin‘ this to me. I'll be careful of… those disgustin‘ fags."

"Hear my now, boya. I definitely don't want ya to be one of them, that would complicate our plans."

"I-I-If I were…I am not, but…just hypothetical...If I were a fag, w-would ya kill me for that?" That was too risky, but the young man knew that unless he knew the boundaries, he couldn't be sure of anything if it was his father's behavior.

“If I found ya with men, or just thinkin‘ that way, I would hypothetical put your head in one of those traps and then drop ya into the valley. And then I would wait for ya to stop flickin‘ like a fish on ground and put your corpse in a mine and detonate it. Hypothetical."

It wasn't a joke. It wasn't a threat. That was the real situation. A realistic scenario that could have occurred at any time. Whenever he could step into one of the traps at an unguarded moment… whenever his father could throw him into the valley and let him bleed out.

"So, what kind of woman ya like? Don't be ashamed, it's a normal thin‘."

Normal when a man likes a woman and a woman likes a man? Nothing in between? Am I really… so bad?

"I… I-I like… I like the…the postwoman. And her…her c-chest. I-It’s big and…s-sometimes I wanna t-touch it…s-squeez it." He stammered with bruised cheeks. Clear lie. He hated that lady. A nasty old woman who wanted to talk with him whenever he went to pick up his mail or package for his father.

"Just like mah taste, I guess. Genes don't deny themselves. Come on, it's gettin‘ dark. I'd hate to pull you out of the dark traps to let know the hungry wolve pack."

There are no wolves in this part of America. Just bears. And they are not for blood, but carcasses ... but ya would let me crawl home with that trap around my anhle anyway...

He was down.

Not from the idea of being trapped and becoming bait for bears. He knew how to get out of the trap quickly and efficiently. He also had several bandages and disinfectant in his bag.

It was destroying him that he was probably one of the most repulsive group of people, the garbage, that was supposed to be executed on the ground ... just because he found comfort in the idea of man or men than women ...

How outrageous he was. How disgusting it was. To dump in the trash ... but that was annoying to my father. He hated them.

So let it be. Just pretend and then when he dies...I'll be free. We all will be free.

The dark-haired man with his glasses and a nice smile left him at the mercy, along with others he considered friends. They all left him alone. He meant nothing to them. Just another manipulated puppet in his father's hands…

Time to detonate a mine again...

Let. Me. Be!

Chapter Text

It was a strange awakening. There was no camp fire, smoke, darkness around...unknown faces. Now, Dwight was under a blanket, feeling pain and disinfection all over his body. When he finally opened his eyes, he could barely see the dark around him.

"G-Glasses...where are they..." Instinctively he reached right, on the night table. He hit the wall. Maybe wood. So he tried the other side.

"A-Ahgg. My shoulder." Sudden pain didn‘t allow him to move. He put his hand back and touched his face. He could smell the strong smell of disinfection, bandage and blood. Disgusting combination. Why was his wrist bandaged?

Strange. But anyway. He wanted his glasses. Without them, he felt more than useless. He tried to get up. A sharp pain in his shoulder accompanied his every move. On the third try, sit down, accompanied by loud wails full of pain. Dwight  slowly reached for a possible bedside table.

God, thanks for being here.

The joy passed as he realized that there was a good crack through the left glass. But he could see. And that was probably preferred than being blind at all.

Good God, where am I? I've never had my glasses broken before...after so many trials…

He looked at them closely and wiped them with the blanket. Better this than being blind. Then he finally focused on the room he was in.

Small room, very small, maybe a room for child. One window, over it a dark old curtain that didn‘t let in any light in. A wooden wardrobe, a mark of old age was more than clear. The whole room smelled as wood, if not as disinfection. In the corner of this small room was a table. Also made of wood, chair equally matched. Strangely moved away from the table, as if someone had got up from it. Dwight's shirt, pants, and tie were on the chair. Shoes just below. There was a wax candle on the table, half burned. And something small beside her. Maybe a pencil or a brush.

And…that was it. Very modest room. Maybe more like a sleeping room… whose room was it? No books, toys, plants, carpet.

Wait… this is the world created by the Entity. Sure, it  doesn't know what a room should look like...sure…a-haa.

He thought he was gone. He was still there…

"Why…why don't you leave me… wait a minute. Clothes...on a chair." He lifted the blanket and saw other bandages around his chest, abdomen and ankle. And of course he was only in his underwear and socks.

Shame and embarrassment took over him and Dwight hid himself under a blanket. He wrapped himself around and made himself aa s roll...or rather a pancake...as if he was home...and wanted to hide.

Dwight sighed loudly and rubbed the bandaged wrist. According to the history of his injuries, he could confidently say that the wrist was bandaged professionally. Care could be seen. Certainly, too, but it was quite stiff.

"What happened? I've never had any injuries ... maybe scars, but I never needed bandages. Dwight, wake up. What have you done?" Dwight held his head, crying out loud. As he used to.

Hidden under a blanket, nobody and nothing could hurt him. And all the pain goes away.

"I wanna cocoa from mommy...with caramel...mmmm...mommy..."

He curled up to hide his incipient tears from...a strange visitor.

The door creaked slowly. Heavy steps followed. Dwight froze, but the heartbeat didn‘t indicate danger.

"Still sleepin‘?"

Who the hell is that? What is he doing here? Damn… where am I?

Heavy footsteps approached him. His body trembled, but his heart beat only faintly. Out of uncertainty, not like during a trial, when his heart could pop out of his chest or his head explode under the pressure.

The steps were closer.

Dwight had nowhere to run. No pallet, no wardrobe, no rubble…nothing…dies, again.

"Those glasses…where’re they? I put them here. Hey, ya sleepin‘?"

Someone touched his shoulder. Just a touch. He didn't twitch, he just hold, no hit. Just a touch. Dwight panicked. He jumped out from under the blanket and crashed back against the wall behind him.

His worst nightmare was right in front of him.

White mask with a crooked toothy smile. The right arm dotted with iron through. Burned skin under the braces.

"Stay away! Stop it! Get away from me!" He blurted out with tears in his eyes. The pain in his shoulder didn‘t allow him to move more, let alone some back. The effort to escape was very small. His hands were trembling, his whole body was trembling…why didn't his heartbeat inform him that the killer was so close? After all, his circle of terror is big enough and only a few paces ...

Trapper didn't move. The crooked smile leaned slightly to one side. And he waited.

Like a real predator.

Dwight breathed deeply and tried to devise a path of escape quickly. The only safe way beside the door. The window was dangerous, he didn't know the height or whether he had a trap set for him.

That would be his style.

Maybe traps were ready at the door or right by the bed… they could be everywhere. Or maybe Dwight was thinking too much about the plan to escape, even though he didn't know where to run, and what was ahead of him.

Trapper sighed.

Whatwasthatnoise?!

Trapper sat down at the far end of the bed, all the way to the edge of the bed, but his gaze remained on the frightened survivor. It was pure fear, perhaps even hatred in his eyes that drove him to tears. In vain he tried to think of a way to escape.

There was none.

Nothing happened for a long time. Time passed fast or slow. It depended from which side. For Dwight, time was as fast as the thought itself, Trapper and time were…calm.

When Dwight dropped heroism and cowardice stood uop, he managed to stutter a few words.

"W-Will you h-hurt me? W-Will you k-kill m-me?"

Desperate question in a desperate situation. What else could he do? The shoulder ached, the wrist was stiff, and the ankle was also pungent.

As soon as Trapper moved in his shoulder, Dwight immediately raised his hands for a possible defense. The main thing is to cover your face when nothing more.

"Those bandages ..."

He spoke. Trapper really spoke. But Dwight couldn't look.

“Would be fo‘ nothin‘."

And silence again. A long silence where only Dwight's cry was heard.

It was subsequently drowned out by the creak of bed. Before Dwight could react, both arms were caught in a tight grip, pushed into the wall with him.

Trapped. Overwhelmed.

This is it. This is the end.

"Listen."

Dwight listened automatically, raising his head as an order. Trapper's mask was barely a few inches from his face.

He could feel his strong musk. He could smell blood and iron. He felt instantly overwhelmed by his predatory aura.

"No harm. No blood. No pain. Promise."

The words were solid. Decisive. There was no danger for Dwight, but rather the opposite. The grip fell, though it wasn't painful at all. The proximity of their faces, however, continued.

Maybe Dwight's forehead rubbed against the rough surface of the wooden mask…he couldn't shake off the intoxicating sense of domination. Fear slowly faded into the background and was replaced by innocent curiosity. Linking to the words Trapper said so firmly… he felt strange.

Dwight swallowed hard.

During the blink of an eye, Trapper stood up, turned his back on Dwight and walked to the table with heavy footsteps. He transferred the chair with the clothes to the bed and laid the slippers on it.

"If ya… want to come down. You shouldn't…wear shoes, because of your ankle."

He sounded a little nervous, but before Dwight could say anything, Trapper left the room and slowly closed the door.

Dwight swallowed again, trying to replay the situation. What actually happened? Wasn't it all a dream? It could have been Freddy's illusion, he was an expert on it, but pain is a clear awakening from a dream… and the smell… Freddy couldn't imitate smells and sounds, only palettes… and the pain. It was still here. This wasn‘t a dream.

It was definitely Trapper. The mask is the same. There were drops of blood on it, too, he noticed. The ugly arm was also the same…

But he was talking. The killers don't speak...none of them. They just laugh or roar when they hit a poor survivor.

It was weird. Very weird.

Wrapped in bandages, disinfected, in Trapper's terror radius, saying nothing, no heartbeat… and then his words.

He didn't want to believe that this whole nightmare would suddenly turn into a small… disgusting, wrong, longed-for dream. At the same time, he wanted to believe that something had changed...he had to find out what had happened.

He had courage. Curiosity became the engine of his action. He grabbed the clothes, clean and fragrant, like from his mother, and dressed with great caution on his shoulder, wrist and ankle. The slippers were funny and cute, old-fashioned,  like for grandfather, but better than a solid shoe. It was his size. Soft, nice and warm.

He took his time…he was still playing the whole story in his head that happened a minute ago.

Something was pressing on his chest.

For his inner feeling of secure he took a blanket and put it around his shoulders. Defense mechanism from his high school years. He was ready to face ... someone who had innumerable wounded him, caught him into trap and killed him.

Am I...excited?

Chapter Text

Before leaving the small room, Dwight looked around. There was a small pencil on the table, but no sign of paper or notebook anywhere. The candle was made of real beeswax, similar to one his  grandmother had, which was still made by her father - beautiful times with grandmother. Those candles smelled beautiful.

Wooden closet was half empty. There were three work clothes sets - a worker or a miner. Pretty old, patched. Then there were four shirts. All of them have lost their original colors. Made of fine material… musty. That was all. There was nothing more in the closet…

Who this room belonged when they needed so little clothes? From time to time, Entity itself offered Dwight other clothing — such as his reflex bike suit when he was delivery boy. What a nice memories.

"He said I should go down when I’m ready…"

He pulled the blanket around his shoulders more to his chest. He still couldn't absorb Trapper's words.

"No harm. No blood. No pain. Promise."

The cute idea that someone wouldn't hurt him at last, just because he couldn't defend himself back. The tempting idea that someone would protect him… and especially Trapper, who had the best built of all the killers. Tall, large, strong, relatively fast… scary from view.

He's a killer… you're just a piece of meat for him - nothing more. Stop living in a dream.

But why he didn't hang me on a hook? Why he took me here… and bandaged my wounds he caused me…

Should I ask him?

And will he talk at all?

He sighed in defeat and left the room. He found himself in the hallway. There was another door opposite him. Holes and scratches were visible in them - perhaps from blows. At one end of the hall was a closed window, at the other stairs.

He was ordered to go there. Going down…which meant going down the stairs.

It was very comfortable in the slippers. Although he felt thirty years older, he felt comfortable - it was perhaps the preferred priority in this situation.

When he reached the first step, he heard a blow. It was as if someone — the one who was waiting for him under the stairs — had hit a wall or a table. He didn't want to go down any further.

I can wait a while… maybe it was just in affect… or someone else who is in the same situation.

Dwight swallowed hard and, despite deep uncertainty, walked slowly down the stairs. Each step he wondered if he should...just go back. There were no paintings on the walls, only dusty outlines. It must have been a long time, they because part of the wall… and suddenly they were gone.

Curiosity pushed him down the stairs and he found himself in the large living room. Sofa with a cover from the last century, sent without a sign of the original color. One armchair in the same faded style as the sofa, in the middle a wooden conference table with a withered dry plant. Impossible to save it.

He didn't look around too much. He sat carefully on the couch and put the blanket over his head. The only place to hide. The only place he felt safe. At least for a while.

"Why’re ya hidin‘?"

That voice.

Dwight shuddered and turned toward his voice.

Trapper stood still a few steps from him. He stared. He was just staring. His breathing through the mask really evoked an atmosphere similar to horror than an idyllic romance…

"D-Defense Mechanism." He had impaired peripheral vision through cracked glass, but the killer's aura couldn‘t be overlooked. He slid his glasses up to his nose and looked away.

"Stop it. Ya don’t hide fro‘ me."

Before Dwight could say anything, Trapper ripped a blanket from him, revealing his horrified expression. He didn‘t expect such a violent reaction. He really didn't expect anything but words.

W-What are you wondering about? He does exactly what he wants. When he has his victim, he goes after. Just like during the trial…

Dwight crouched defensively at the very end of the sofa with his hands protecting his face. He didn't dare to look at the killer. Defense mechanism.

Trapper was upset. Certainly. He had to be. It could be heard in his breath. Or so Dwight thought. Every stupidity Dwight did, it immediately upset everyone. It didn't matter what happened - he always did something wrong.

Always.

"S-Sorry… I… I don't feel s-safe here." Dwight stuttered.

There was silence for a long moment. The silence could be cut through, as were the growing concerns for his health and safety.

"The whole area is set up with traps. Ya won't find a safer place."

"Y-Y-Your mask…as if I-I am still in t-trial. J-Just the heartbeat is gone… "

Trapper sat on the other end of the sofa. How fast did he get there? Why didn't he hear any footsteps? He heard them before! He terribly stomped, Dwight heard it himself.

How? Where? Why? What's going on?

"Is that…why are ya so nervous? Is that why are ya so shakin‘?" Trapper's was suddenly very calm. At times, Dwight didn't believe he was one and the same person.

Dwight nodded in agreement and forced himself to look at the crooked mask. Trapper was still staring at him. Dwight often wondered what Trapper‘s face was hidding behind that scary mask. What a face had this ... callous monster, who enjoyed killing.

"I have deep scars on my face. They‘re not very nice to look at. Are ya sure I should take it off?"

At that moment, no other answer occurred to Dwight.

"I'd rather face a man with a human face than a murderer with a mask that scares me in dreams."

It may have been a nerve, but there was something twitching in Trapper. Maybe it wasn't a nerve, but a wave of the strange warm feeling he'd felt once in his life. His breathing also stopped for few seconds.

"Please…" Dwight whispered, barely heard.

Trapper took off his wooden mask with both hands and kept his gaze to the ground. Dwight noticed that the skin on his back and neck was different than on his face. Curiosity and tension forced him to move closer to the killer. Trapper was still looking down on his mask and didn‘t dare look into the face of the curious man, who moved slowly toward him.

"I haven't taken it off since that day. It destroyed my face. This or a bandage around my head… they laughed, they felt sorry for me. He laughed. Over and over. He saw me once...only once. Then I locked the door. He kept laughin‘. I heard him."

Dwight wasn't sure if the words belonged to him or if Trapper was speaking to himself. But  it sounded sad. More precisely… degrading. Incidents happen, and if it was an accident…

"But y-ya should probably see it."

He finally looked at him. His face wasn‘t laughable. Dwight had an urge to pity him. But even so, his face was…strange.

A deep scar across the chin through the edge of the lower and upper lips. The signs of sewing were clear along the edges. Many other small scars around the cheeks and one deep in the left eyebrow. The skin had remnants of burns. But what stood ou t… light green eyes, like forest moss. Beautiful green eyes. He had sharply cut features. What a handsome man he used to be.

What he probably looked like before this happened. How handsome must he have been? Typical masculine… and that figure… broad shoulders, strong arms and legs…

These were the weak spots for Dwight… he was always looked at those features . From a distance. From safe spot. Hidden and just looking. One man in a group was enough. Sometimes a minute was enough. He knew what he wanted… and it was weird. Dwight could be anyone on the Internet and not be ashamed of his orientation. In reality, Dwight’s parents would be disgusted by the truth. Mother longed for grandchildren, father wanted to have a large family to keep the name…

None of this will happen. He is gone. Dwight is gone and he probably won't come back from this hell… so why not be who he always was and had to hide it from the outside world…

How long has he been watching?

"Ya're not sayin‘ anythin‘."

"O-Oh, yeah… I-I'm lost in your eyes… hah. T-They're pretty… "

Oh fuck.

A smile froze on his face. This was across the line. Too fast, too spontaneous. He hadn't even really figured out if Trapper was…

"S-Sorry! Sorry! I-I don't know what I said…the first thing that came to mind. Hah, the typical me. A-Always saying the first thing that comes to mind-"

"Ya have nice eyes too. I've never noticed… ehh" Without blinking. He stared.

Something was moving in Dwight. Something tickled him, inside. Weird feeling. No one had told him anything like that before. Just a mockery, everywhere he went. From everywhere. From all directions. From everyone.

Now… Dwight...felt… happy.

He smiled.

"D-D-Do you have a n-name? I-I'm Dwight… "

"I-I… Evan. That's my name. Evan…" Trapper got up sharply, pushed the table around, and almost dropped the withered flower. He walked around the corner with heavy steps.

Dwight stared at him, but said nothing. He had no words. He learned so much in so few words. A strange warm feeling moved with his body. Pleasant feeling… he touched his face. His face was on fire. He must have been red as a tomato.

It's so embarrassing…

As he rubbed his cheeks, he was startled by the mask on the table. He was still afraid of it. He will never get rid of it. Dwight looked in the direction Trapper-Evan had gone. Still nothing. Curiosity seized him again. He carefully took the mask in his hands. It was relatively light. Someone was right. It was wooden - traces of dried blood all over it. The teeth were blunt, but they looked sharp.

This mask, in my hands, covered damaged face of someone who must have been very handsome. With that look, he had to been so wanted from all sides… and yet a murderer. What made him so brutal?

Dwight heard running water. That was the signal. He put the mask back on the table, face down. It was as if the sight was still haunting him.

The sound of running water stopped. Hard steps followed. Trapper… Evan… returned with a glass of water. He put it on the table in front of Dwight.

"Water for now…the rest is warmin‘ up."

He didn't sit down. Instead, he focused on the his mask lying on the table.

"I'll put it out of your sight. I don't want ya to feel nervous."

He won’t wear it here?

Dwight didn't ask. Instead, he took a glass of water and drank slowly. Cold water. Clean. There was nothing special about it, he drank further and watched where Trap-Evan placed the mask.

He placed it next to the door on the shelf. High enough for Dwight not to get there without help. He didn't really want to. He would put something else on you, like a rag, to forget about it.

"Ya hungry? I don't know if ya could eat at all… but… I… have to. Ya want…eh…"

Cute. I-Is he blushing?!

Evan scratched the back of his head and apparently bit his lip. He sounded a little uncertain. He kept looking from one place to another.

And then say Dwight was nervous the nervous one.

 "A-Actually, I feel a sense of hunger… that I didn't have… when this started… ahahahah, do you want to help? I'll be happy to help you. What do you want to cook?"

The answer was not exactly what Evan expected. He was taken aback again.

"I have some vegetables…nothin‘ special. I thought I'd make soup… as always."

Dwight was faster than in the trial.

"I-I can help you if you want to…with the vegetables."

Evan blinked twice and then he…smiled.

Is that a smile? He smiled! That's too much for me…

"Y-Yeah sure. I-I didn't expect so… action from ya. Ya are really full of energy." Evan let Dwight walk past him and took the opportunity to look at the young man, from head to bottom. One place took his interest. His eyes rested on him.

"I-I know! It's weird, but I'm pretty hungry and when I'm hungry I'm nervous… and-and when I'm nervous, I talk nonsense and still, haha." As he passed Evan, he found himself in a spacious kitchenette, with a long line, a sink, many cabinets and storage space, and a wood-burning stove.

It's like he was in a museum. He saw a similar device with his great-grandmother when he visited her as a child. He remembered how often he had to put on to keep the stove hot so he could have a hot dinner or hot tea. It was fascinating when his great-grandfather taught him to make a fire out of splinters and old newspapers.

A warm memory… as well as the stove at which he now stood. He even heard the fire crackling. It was as if he had returned to childhood. The same joy hugged him.

"Wow! It is warm here. Does it take a long time for the whole room to warm up?"

Dwight warmed his hands and also his body. Finally a pleasant warmth that was not just a blazing fire that could dissapear at any moment… which was the beginning of the trial.

"This is the first time I've made a fire in it - it wasn't worth keepin‘ warm place when I‘m here alone." Evan replied a little dryly, but he still answered. Better than scream or silence.

"Did you do that for me?" Dwight turned his gaze to the tall man standing nearby, who was looking at him. Not in his eyes. Not on his back…lower…

Dwight caught that look. Evan stared. He literally stared. Maybe he bit his lip. But that look… goosebumps jumped on Dwight‘s back and he was near to fire.

"Hmmmm… there is no need to hurry … just stand there…"

Hah… that's really weird… why the hell do I like that he's staring at me like that? Is he staring at my ass? What?! What should I say now? What will he do? Also just standing there and staring at me? How should I behave? How should I stand? I have to do something.

He felt warm in his face and body, but not from the crackling fire.

From the hungry look he was endowed with by someone who indulged in killing… it was disgustingly exciting…

Chapter Text

It was nice. Standing side by side, not feeling the heartbeat and just… listen to him breathe.

This is so wrong. Snap out of it! How many times did he slash you?! How many times have you stepped into his rusty trap?! How many times did he hang you on the hook?!

He did it all… hurt him countless times… killed him countless times and now he was standing next to him and cooking…

That's funny…

The first thing Dwight noticed was E-Evan’s hand. And immediately Dwight’s mouth was dry. Evan…washed all the blood from the hands. It took a while…but he could finally see the hands of a man and not a cold-blooded killer. Of course, they were the same. Equally big and strong and…

First the face, now the hands… what's next? Dick?! Well, maybe I could.

"You wash the vegetables, I'll cut them."

"I-I know how to handle a knife." They exchanged confuse glances. Maybe only Dwight didn't understand and Evan… knew very well. "I-I-I-I would…"

"I don't want ya to get hurt. I saw ya hurtin‘ yourself all around…not here."

Maybe he thinks… I would stab him… I don't have that much power… haaah…

The work took place was calmly accompanied by a crackling fire. It was quite a pleasant idyll. Almost like in the movie. Cook food together, eat it together and maybe talk…

Just a little bit.

When it was done and Dwight was intoxicated by the pleasant smell of vegetables and wood, he might have smiled too much and dreamed.

It would be nice to have someone like that. Do normal things. Talking about normal things. Be there for each other…it is like a dream come true…shut up.

And then he looked carefully.

Evan was still there. He stood there, perhaps looking for a bowl or putting wood in the stove. He was just there…and that was enough.

Dwight was embarrassed. All his life he longed to have a normal life, which he would share with someone who protect him, who would take care of him and he would do the same…who will be here for him when he is at the bottom…

Everyone was evil and took advantage of his weaknesses…he was the target of all ridicule and at the same time he didn‘t want anything strange. Just be here for someone…

He could feel the tears trying to escape his eyes. He disguised them with a false sneeze.

"Bless ya…"

Maybe he'll talk.

He hoped so. He wanted to know something…anything about him. About everyone else. Anything that would at least allay his worries about his…life?

"T-Thank you. What should I do now?"

Why do I make myself a maid? But, what else can I do here? At least do what you do best…just talk.

Evan smiled and Dwight was drenched in cold sweat.

"Ya could do…so many…things for me that I want...and I could take it like that." He looked at the uncertain young man with a hungry look. His smile was perhaps more frightening than his mask itself.

Dwight swallowed and took a step back. He stared at him.

"Why wait at all? I can take everythin‘ now. Here and now. Ya can't run away, every step is a sure trap for naive survivors who don't look under their feet… "

His voice was menacing, and with each word his intensity escalated. Every step Dwight took back, Evan stepped closer. His menacing smile couldn't be bigger.

"Ya're my pet…I'll train ya and ya will listen to me, but that won't be a problem, will it?"

Wall. He had nowhere to run. Evan trapped him. Exactly as he wanted.

"N-No… I won't run…I don't k-know where…" Dwight's knees was trembling and his whole body shook under the onslaught of the strange pressure Evan could only bring with his presence.

"Yes…ya have nowhere to run…"

***

"Mommy, why do ya have those purple spots on your hands?"

"It's okay, honey. I stumbled and hit the closet."

"Does it hurt?"

"No, of course not. Honey. Mommy doesn’t feel pain."

***

"Mommy…why are ya in the bathroom?"

"Nothing. Nothing sweetheart. I was just looking in the mirror."

"Why are ya crying?"

"I am not crying little one, only the pollen flew into my eye…"

"Mommy, this is blood. What happened?"

"Nothing. Nothing honey. I fell on a pile of sticks in the woods. I'm a stupid and clumsy."

***

"Mommy?"

"Ah, it's you, honey. You can't scare your mommy like that."

"You are scared?"

"I don't like it when someone scares me, when I'm back to them."

"Why are you shaking?"

"Nothing. Nothing honey. Come here. Hug your mommy before daddy comes home."

***

"Honey, come here. Come to me. "

"Are you sad, mommy?"

"I'm very sad… will you promise me something? Our little secret? It will be funny."

"I like secrets, but daddy doesn't. He says the secrets are for the weak. "

"Daddy doesn't have to know about it. Promise me that…"

"What about mommy?"

"When you become older and you will love someone…really really much. More than mommy-"

"It can be! I love you very, very much, mommy. I won't love anyone but you."

"Oh, my darling…when you're bigger and you want to be with someone and you love them very much…you'll know it here. Your heart will be pounding…promise me…promise me…"

"What is it, mommy?"

"You will never hurt your loved one. You will never hit them. You will never humiliate them. You will protect them. You will not allow anyone to harm them, to humiliate them. You will make them happy and you will do everything so that they will always smile at you. Do you understand me?"

"Don't hurt? Protect? To keep them smile?"

"So they don‘t want to run away from you…"

***

Dwight pressed against the wall, his eyes tightly closed, his body trembling. He felt it again. His musk, blood, iron. Is that the smell of fear? Or excitement? Both?

What the hell is wrong with me? It's not normal for me to like when he oppresses me like that and threatens me…like weak coward.

Evan's lips trembled. The wide smile began to fade until it disappeared completely. Something had changed in him.

"I…I don't want ya to leave me here alone…"

"Ha?" Dwight looked incomprehensibly at Evan, who was even more confused. There was much he wanted to say, but the pressure from the unknown did not allow him to open his mouth.

"Set the table, I have to do somethin‘ before…"

And…he left. He left Dwight shaking in the kitchen. Even more confused than a few minutes ago when he woke up.

Dwight curled to the ground, hid his face, and hugged his still-shaking knees. This was crazy. Just one step and…he didn't want to imagine. He felt so weird. Incredible pressure gripped his chest, his body shook and his crotch…hard.

What the hell is wrong with me? This is wrong as hell! He wanted to rape me here! Maybe worse, finally kill me here! Is that why I'm here? Does he want to torture me here slowly until I lose my mind completely?! What the hell is going on?

There was chaos in his head.

This was chaos.

---

Evan unlocked the iron door, but several heavy chains stood in his way, each with its own unique lock. When the road was clear, he took great care to lock the door behind him. He wasn't going to risk disclosure.

Not now. Too soon. Too sensitive. Uninformed.

The stairs led to a dark, cold basement. The air was full of iron, thinner, wood, and many other things that couldn‘t be described better than rotting meat or rancid milk. Stench.

Evan was used to it. He spent most of his youth here. Cleaning and grinding traps, repairing tools, burning clothes. He turned on a small pendant lamp that swayed from side to side.

"Hey, old man. Are ya sleepin‘ again?"

Evan leaned against the table and took a deep breath.

"It’s rude not to answer. Do ya want me to hit ya?"

No one answered. When Evan finally calmed down and walked over to the long iron table. His conflict of interest.

"Doesn‘t matter. I'll hit another. As always. Durin‘ the trial I have several targets…"

He leaned over the table and stared at what was carefully laid out on it. Clothes, faded, torn, barely held together. Jacket, vest, work trousers… as if the person was lying there in that clothes. Literally.

Only the remnants of man.

"Do ya see that? Do ya see what's goin‘ on under YOUR roof?" He slammed into the table with wide smile. "Of course! This used to be yours. But it is no more! Ya have no power! I do."

He leaned closer where his face should be.

"Doesn‘t matter. Doesn‘t matter. But it's comin‘. I'll do it. Ya've had me in chains your whole fuckin‘ life. Now I…free from the chain…and I still can't! Do ya know how it hurts? I've been hard for hours…and when it finally stops, HE starts talkin‘ and lookin‘ at me again…and I really want it…"

"Ya don't like what I'm sayin‘, do ya? Yeah, that's right. Under MY roof, on MY land, there is a guy with a dick between his legs and he will be here. And he's the same faggot as me. The one ya hated to death. You wanted to hang us all…"

"And he is so innocent. I'm almost afraid to touch him. I would probably break his arm if I took him by it… and he's quite small… I don't know how old he can be… but he looks like him. I've always liked… smiling, clumsy, with glasses, the desire to be a leader and still follow…cute…wantin‘ power. I like it a lot."

"And do ya know what will happen here? We'll sleep together…no…we'll FUCK together, that's what ya called it. Not in one place. Everywhere. In all rooms, in every corner. I’ll fuck him everywhere and mark that dirty place where I fuck his soul out of him. Not once, not twice. Several times and all the time."

"And he will cook and clean for me. Keep the fire in the stove…like mommy…but I will not hit him. When he does somethin‘ wrong. He won't cry. I won't let him. He will smile at me. And he will never cry and run away. I'll take care of him…just like you didn't take care of my mommy…"

"I was so close. So fuckin‘ close! I could feel him. I heard his breathin‘. Fuckin‘ hell, I need him right now. Do you want to see it? Do ya want me to fuck him right over you? That would be inappropriate…but…I will do it because ya can do nothin‘. Just lie around here and do nothin‘."

"I will take care of him and he will take care of me. I‘ve got my chance. It hurt. I screamed, I cried… and in this hell… I found the one ya took from me. The only thin‘ I wanted in life was what I needed! I am free… free, free, free. FREE! And…he is waitin‘ for me. For me! Just for me! I can't leave him alone, somethin‘ could happen to him… I have to protect him… and only the weak  one does that, right?"

"I will be a weak, disgustin‘ fag, so ya can hate me even more…and ya will only watch and listen…how he will mourn and beg…he will moan my name. My fuckin‘ name…and ya will hear us and will be ashamed…"

"I won't come here so often now, so don't make trouble. I don't want to scare him."

Evan stepped away from the table and rubbed his cheeks. His cheeks burned with excitement, just as his crotch was more than hard.

"See ya…"

He turned off the light bulb and stepped up heavily.

He did not expect an answer.

The bones can't answer. They just listen, they never answer.

---

It was surprising that even the few vegetables, which were not yet very attractive to look at, turned into a pretty good thick soup. And… lunch was quiet. No forced conversation. Or rather no conversation.

Despite his stomach clenched, Dwight had to force himself to eat everything he put in the bowl. It would be not only rude, but dangerous in the current situation. He didn't want another mess of Evan's strange appetites…not like that.

It was too early and he still didn't know if there was a possibility or just again he was dreaming about the most forbidden fruit.

During quiet consumption, he noticed small peculiarities on the man sitting opposite him. When Evan opened his mouth, his tongue went first. He held the spoon in left hand. He always turned upside down in his mouth and pul lit out clean. His eyes were closed during chewing. He seemed to hug the bowl or rather cover it so that no one would take it from him. His elbows did not touch his table.

Dwight could notice so many details. All those little peculiarities… were cute.

Maybe he was brought up like that… maybe he was sitting with his parents at the table. Together…

Dwight finished his soup and felt more than full. He had time to look at the man as he was enjoying his food for a long time.

He waited patiently. He wasn't sure if he could talk over food. But apparently not, because Evan was completely silent all the time. When he tinkled the spoon on the bowl, he finished his portion.

Dwight wanted to talk. He wanted to talk to him. About everything. About anything. Just to break the crushing silence. Instead, he got up and took both bowls in his hands. Instinct advised him to get everything off the table before talking to avoid problems.

Evan smiled as Dwight took his bowl from the table and began washing it. Even during the washing, the unbearable silence couldn‘t be broken.

Be a man! Start talking! Don't show a weakness. You are not weak!

He turned off the water and took a deep breath.

"C-Can we talk?" He turned carefully over his shoulder. Evan was still sitting in a chair, his hand under his chin, almost not blinking. The smile on his face didn‘t disappear… this time it was more pleasant smile. Warm.

"Sure. Sit down ‘ere." He pushed chair next to him. He indicated where Dwight should sit.

Not this close…

Dwight swallowed again and sat down on his chair. He kept his hands in his lap, trying to look at Evan. It was complicated, especially then…

"This is awkward…"

Excellent…best start.

"Nah. Don‘t worry. I'd love to hear ya out… "

That was different. He was calm now. And he seemed to want to talk. That calmed Dwight slightly. He dared to look up.

Those eyes…beautiful green color.

No one looked at Dwight like that. It was weird. Usually people looked at him with ridicule, uncomfortably, with contempt…

Just another weak man…to laugh…nothing out of the ordinary. Nothing special. Nothing strong.

His eyes were warming. He was looking at him. He blinked slowly. He looked into his face, sometimes at his hands. He said nothing. He was in no hurry. He was just watching.

Dwight was drenched in a strange heat. He wish someone who would care about him looked like that…

"Ya're blushin‘." Evan laughed.

Dwight blushed even more. His glasses was falling from his nose.

How? Is it that hot in here?

"W-Why am I here?" The distraction allowed Dwight to open his mouth. It was one of the few questions he wanted to know the answer to.

"Why? Because I wanted to."

"Can't you tell me…l-little more? Please?"

Evan looked away and thought. But his smile still remained.

Good sign.

"For now I'll say that I don't want to be here alone and…ya kind of didn't always fit into your little group…and ya‘ve tried so hard…"

It sounded as if he knew exactly what was going on around the fire. But he couldn't. Dwight never noticed any killer near the fireplace. Even when he tried to look around, where the Entity had let him go.

The tension in the room suddenly rose. The pressure in his chest increased. He couldn't even swallow. His loose tie was tight.

"And there was an opportunity…and I took it. I have ya now and it will only get better…" Evan looked back at the nervous Dwight, who dug his fingers into his thighs.

"A-Are you…"

"Hmm?"

Quick blows to the door echoed through the house. Someone was outside the door.

Chapter Text

"Eveeeeeeee~ Are you home? Eveeeeeeee~"

Female voice. Loud. Still pounding on the door.

Hot sweat run over Dwight’s back. Nervousness increased, heartbeat…didn‘t change. Evan paid no attention to the woman's voice trying to get inside. He knew they were safe. That he is safe.

"Eveeeeeeee~ You promised me shards and teeth. Come on, Eveeeeeeee~"

Her voice began to be annoying, but that didn't reassure Dwight much. He ran his eyes between calm Evan and the loud woman behind the door. And she kept knocking. It was pounding.

"Who-who is it?"

And does she know about me? Does she know I'm here? Is that why she's here? What are shards and teeth? From living person? Like living people?

"Does it matter?" Evan was still staring at Dwight, who didn't keep his eyes in one place. Panic gripped him and he began to bite his nails and slide his glasses more and more onto his nose. "Ya doin‘ this when ya’re nervous? Cute."

Is he crazy? Is he deaf? Go check the door! Why is he staring at me like that ?! Like…I like the way he stares at me…I really like it…but do something about the woman!

He couldn't. Too much was happening at once. Dwight couldn't do otherwise.

"Tsk…" Evan hissed. The blissful smile disappeared within a second. He stood up sharply and clenched his fist. "Don't move." He ordered. Dwight couldn't disobey. He looked down and bit his lip. 

"It took you a while! Did you forget yourself in the basement? Why are you frowning, Evee?" Whose voice was it? There were only a few women as murderers. Dwight counted on his fingers.

Nurse is just screaming. Spirit growls. Hag hisses. Plague… mumbles, I can't understand. Huntress sings… who is it?

"I have work. Is it needed today?" It was clear in his voice that Evan was more than ittitated. Fear came from his voice. He didn't have to see him, he just heard him. Dwight's goosebumps ran over him.

"You promised me today. I have everything ready! Can I go in? Those crows make me nervous…"

But…Evan also just breathed loud and didn't talk during the trial…

"Put your foot in here and ya'll crawl through the trap field."

He was scary. Dwight finally admitted it. Everything about Evan was scary. Even withiut mask. His position. His behaviour. His expression. Everything. A few glances and words couldn‘t change his whole aura.

He's a killer. And…he said it himself. I'm just a pet…and…when I stop entertaining him…he gets rid of me…

"You are getting more and more fucked up, boy. Find a hole in the wall and get your shit done. Or ask Entity if they'll give you a quick-fuck toy."

I-Is that why I'm here? I'm that-

"I will bring it to ya. Shut up and wait here."

He closed the door. The woman didn‘t enter. That was the only relief. Evan then focused his eyes on the motionless Dwight. What now? Evan said nothing, he just put a finger on his mouth. He motioned for Dwight to be quiet.

I-It will be easy! Perhaps…

He nodded and covered his mouth. Evan disappeared down the hall.

Shards and teeth… what can it be? And who the hell is behind that door?

"I'm getting impatient, Eveeeeeeee~"

As long as the door is closed, I'm safe. He closed them, didn't he?

"The bigger the worker, the more inattentive…"

The door opened slowly. Very slowly.

"Oh, Evee, you have really nice place and…warm?"

A woman with long black hair came inside. Dwight couldn't move. The shock didn't even allow him to make a sound. Couldn't even call for help.

"Such a hole… and flower is wasted…oh. Poor little thing." She took the dry flower to her hands. That was Dwight's chance. She had her back to him.

S-Slowly under the table… chairs between us. Don't make a noise. Carefully.

The voice in his head was so loud that he overheard all the words the woman must have said. Then she crouched down and turned sharply.

Dwight was knocked to the ground. He hit his head on the floor and his eyes darkened. His glasses fell off his nose. He tried to shout. When he opened his mouth, he was immediately silenced.

"Shhhh. What do we have here? Toy? In this shit hole?" The woman gripped his cheeks and shook his head from side to side. She examined every single inch of his face. Dwight, on the other hand, couldn't see the mysterious woman who had knocked him to the ground in the blink of an eye. "Bandages? Hmmm. You're the nervous leader, aren't you? Didn't you have glasses? Oh, here they are."

She took Dwight's glasses and inspected them as well. Dwight tried to shake the woman off his body. Although he found enough strength in himself, woman was stronger.

"Tsk. Quiet!" She shot a blade from her wrist. Dirty, bloody blade. Even without glasses, Dwight recognized a deadly weapon. And immediately his throat tightened. "That’s the good boy. Evee will be back soon. Do you want to make a choise?"

Dwight sharpened and bit his tongue so as not to make a single sound to warn… the killer…

"Here, glasses. They are cracked. For me, I'll go back outside the door and you'll be a quiet and very kind pet and you won't tell Evee I was here. Or be a bad pet and I will cut your bandaged wrist and shoulder…and, when Evee will be in trial, I will make a visit." Her voice was more that manipulative. She knew what she was doing. She knew Dwight had no choice.

Dwight nodded and swallowed hard. A few tears escaped the corners of his eye.

Please… go away. Evan, where are you? Help!

Woman put the glasses back on his nose and stood up carefully. She didn't make a sound. Like a real predator. Silent and deadly. Dwight rose slowly from the ground and examined woman for the last time…her face was unknown, but the clothing was very familiar. A blow to the head darkened his thoughts.

The door shut carefully and Dwight was alone in the room again. Then heavy footsteps were coming. Dwight laid his head on the table and hid from Evan's gaze. He could feel the tears running down his face. He was too scared. He wanted to hide, but he had to follow the order.

"Eveeeeeeee, you took your time. This is for me? All of it?"

"Let's say I found old supplies."

"Amazing! Tell me, is what Sally said true?"

"What?"

W-Who is Sally?

"Entity will give you a toy? One of them?!"

What?

Evan was silent for a long time. Then there was a woman's laugh.

"If you could, who would you choose? I would like someone creative… artist or technician."

"I would like someone who would…"

His voice fell silent. Dwight could no longer hear the words of any of them. So many questions over and over again.

Who is that woman? Who is Sally? Does the Entity giving survivors to killers just…for fun? Am I just a toy? Why am I so scared?

He forced his head up. Evan was still out. The doors were closed.

Self-confidence was booming in Dwight.

I'm done with your order. I'm not a slave.

He got up quietly and, with dried tears, took the thrown blanket from sofa and, with slow, light steps, climbed the stairs and returned to the small, dark room where he woke up. He lay back in bed and hid under the blanket. He held the glasses in his hand. Tears like a stream began to flow from his eyes again. He couldn't stop them.

He gave it up. There was little hope and everything broke in a second.

Being a walking corpse in a minefield or a stupid toy in the hands of a murderer.  I want to go home or die.

Dwight cried for a long time. He didn't think. He just cried and begged for answers and to be something more than just a toy.

They are the same. All of them. He just use me for his own entertainment. Why? WHAT have I done so bad that everyone hates me and just abuses me? It was a few drops! He had to make a fuss not to jump in the intensive care unit. He used me, they used me… all… everyone... I want to die. I'll take a kitchen knife and stab myself. I don't want to be here.

Dwight was mentally exhausted, and the groan exhausted him even more. His eyes were heavy. He wanted to sleep and wake up in his bed, overeaten with pizza and ice cream… and all this just a long and terrible nightmare.

He closed his eyes. For a while. The bed was nice and the blanket was soft.

Just a dream. It‘s all just a dream.

Then the door opened rapidly.

"Dwight!? Good Lord, ya here…" Heavy footsteps woke Dwight from his sleep. The bed swayed with Dwight. "I told ya to stay on chair." Evan was sitting next to him. He could feel him. Not warm. Just cold.

I need a hug. No words. Just a hug…

"Fo‘ moment I panicked… strange feelin‘. Ya probably know it better. Hey, are ya okay?"

He touched him. On side. Dwight shuddered.

"Don't touch me!"

B-But I want… but I don't want…

Evan twiched. Maybe he panicked.

"I-Is somethin‘ wrong?" Evan was confused. It was the first time he had heard Dwight raise his voice. In fact — sometimes Dwight tried — even as he watched him from the shadows. When he raised his voice, he tried to calm the situation rather than provoke conflict. Then he was forcibly silenced by someone stronger.

Evan saw them and there was nothing he could do. Not then. And now he didn't want him to scream.

"No…don't touch…me"

*Sniff*

"Hey, hey, hey! What is it?" Evan sounded horrified. Or so Dwight thought. "Hey, come on. Speak with me. What happened?"

"S-She j-jumped on me."

"Who? Amanda? Did she get in?!" He raised his voice. The bed shook under his sharp movements. Or it was Dwight shivering under the blanket.

"Who the hell is Amanda? Who is Sally? Fuck, can't you tell me anything?! And stop fucking touching me! I'm not your stupid toy!"

Silence.

D-Did I say it out loud?

Evan took a deep breath. Maybe he bit his lip or finger.

Dwight couldn't breathe under the pressure. His whole body trembled, his heart pounding was all he heard.

That's the end…real end.

And again. Evan took a deep, very slow breath. Dwight held his breath and swallowed.

Nothing happens. No steps. He's still here.

"Sometimes it's not goin‘ accordin‘ to plan, eh?"

Suddenly, the blanket, as his only salvation, was torn down. Dwight found himself directly under Evan, surrounded by his hands. No way back. Quick death or long disgrace.

Dwight felt him. Too close. He could feel the hot breath on his neck. Goosebumps immediately popped out. He closed his eyes tightly, hoping that something would happen.

Evan was still breathing deeply. Every breath was followed by a trembling exhale. It was scary.

"Look at me," he said softly, still directing his hot breath at Dwight's quivering neck. Dwight wanted to obey, as was his habit. On the other hand, the fear of the unknown and the excessive intoxication of Evan's musk was too much.

Why…just his musk. I can't get rid of him. Why is it so attractive and intoxicating?

He felt a touch on his chin. Two fingers. They forced him to turn his head so that his eyes met Evan. Right above him. Those green eyes. On him. Just for him. What was to follow? It didn't matter. If it was to be the last thing Dwight saw…

Evan slowly wiped the tears from Dwight‘s face with his fingertip. Very carefully and slowly, he wiped the beginning tears from under his eyes and from the corners. Dwight didn't move. He just watched. He didn't look away, not once.

Dwight heard his heartbeat or Evan's. One of them…or both together.

"Unless it was obvious before, I don't want ya to cry. I promised it…as well as not hurtin‘ ya."

He touched Dwight's face. Evan's hand was bigger than his face… and maybe it was shaking.

"I want it. I really want it…but I don't know if ya want it too. I could take ya right now… but then ya'll be afraid of me…I want it…functional…between us. If I just take…ya will run away from me or want to hurt yourself."

So he's gay?

"The last thing."

He took Dwight by the collar and pulled him into a sitting position. He held him tight. Dwight couldn't move. Maybe he didn't even want to. The power over him was deafening. He felt trapped, but wanted to be…

Be owned and cared about. Protected and loved. Was the killer capable of such a thing?

"Don't order me. The last person who ever ordered me is in my basement…his remains are. Ask with respect and I will listen to ya. Understand?"

Dwight swallowed uncertainly and nodded in agreement. Only now he noticed that their mouths were dangerously close. So close…it would be the first…the first ever. But like this…

Evan released his collar and got out of bed. Dwight stared unconsciously at the man, questions in his head that he wanted to know the answer to. However, he was overwhelmed by a strange feeling in his stomach.

"Evan!"

Dwight gasped as Evan was at the door, ready to leave. Calling his name in the face of Dwight's nervousness evoked in him a certain lust. He turned partially, but held on to the wooden door frame. If he didn't, he wouldn't hold on anymore. It was too much already.

"T-Thank you for giving me time…it's…for me…something." He felt his cheeks burn. But those were honest words. For some reason, he believed Evan's words so much that something moved inside him that had slept soundly to this day — or rather, there weren’t such a single driver of Dwight's emotions.

Too much.

Too many things happened at once.

Evan had to act fast, otherwise it would be too late. He had to go, otherwise he would have taken everything.

He stepped out of the room.

He didn't want to step forward. He wanted to come back. To return to him, to the boy he was looking at. Hold him, kiss him. Connect with him…and be so forever. Mark him. Everywhere and by anything…just to make it clear at first glance that someone owns him.

He closed the door.

Then he hit his face.

A few drops of blood fell to the floor. Torn lip. Absolute nothing… has gotten worse.

He had to do it. He had to do it himself. He was so hard he might noticed it. It was unbearable. The only place he could hide was the bathroom. Running water was supposed to cover the noise.

Cold water resting on his tense muscles sent his repressed desires and needs. All it took was a few moves and he came. But that was not enough. The second time was more intense and he could keep the moans under running water. For the third time, he was controlled by his perverse ideas. He didn't touch himself. Dwight touched him. With his smile, he touched Evan all over his body, then took him in his mouth and sighed. Slowly and torturously. He would swallow everything and want more.

"Evan, please…"

The idea had power over him. He was fully inside little man for the fourth time. He moved carefully back and forth. He heard his pleas, his cries.

"Evan… more… please give me more…"

Fill him. Over and over again. Hit a weak spot. Make him moan. Aloud. And everything just for him.

It was louder than running water. He was louder than his own imagination…his hand ached. The fifth round didn‘t take place. He was not tired… he was not exhausted.

Imagination still irritated him…

And the fact that the one he wanted was in the next door… waiting for him.

The next trial will be ruthless.

Chapter Text

Dwight must have fallen asleep. He woke up to the same dark room. Nothing has changed. The room hasn‘t changed. Like the crack in his glasses, the bandages that were no longer the cleanest, and the candle, now cold, still burned in half.

How much time has passed?

He didn't stay in the room any longer. He headed for the stairs, where he stopped immediately. He heard dripping water. The next door on his left hand was half open.

Dwight swallowed, many perverse thoughts and idea were running through his head.

I-Is he there? Why wouldn't he close the door if he was there? What would I say? Would I be able to say something? Stop thinking about…his…how big is he?

He blushed.

He masked the incipient embarrassment and accumulation of blood in his crotch by biting his thumb. Mild pain that relieves obscene thoughts.

He definitely has to look good. Everything suggests that. Shoulders, arms, legs… face. And his cock has to be...maybe I should…

*Snap*

What was it? A trap?

Dwight forgot his incipient erection and walked carefully down the stairs. Again, sheer curiosity enticed him to explore the source of the sound, which reminded him of the sound of a painfull trials.

He descended the stairs. He saw Evan with a rusty trap in his hand and in the other… his mask. He was called to trial. Dwight's stomach churned. The strange feeling of what a terrible carousel he actually got out of…Evan got him out of it. He should be grateful to him. Whether his intentions were deeper and worse, he got him out of endless hell…now he could try to live.

Evan hasn't noticed Dwight yet. He folded his traps into a small bag. All the traps were dark and rusty. The worst ones.

"H-Hi. A-Are you going to work?"

Good God, slap yourself, Dwight. Really? Seriously? Can't you say something normal? Or maybe be silent?

He touched his elbow and tried to smile at least a little. Make him look like he has cramps.

"Good mornin‘. Ya slept like dead. I was worried a bit." Evan didn't look at him. He kept folding the trap into a bag, which he then put over his shoulder. There was a mark of enthusiasm in his voice. Then Evan finally turned to Dwight. With a smile.

"Well, ya could say it's a job. We're called every day and the Entity chooses its…figurines."

Hmm. That sounds interesting. So they don‘t choose for themselves that they want go in. The Entity chooses them. Maybe it also  chooses us who when we meet by the fire…

"Anyway…when I'm gone, the doors and windows will be locked. The whole area is set up with traps. Ya are safe here."

It sounded nice. Although locked in an unknown but cozy environment than being released in the unknown, where he was threatened with something worse than death.

"I noticed a bathroom, I'll probably take a bath. It will be…long time since I felt water on my skin…o-only if I can use it. I-It's your house on the first place."

Dwight wasn‘t taken here as a visitor. And he was well aware of that. He was taken here as an exhibit, as a decoration. Like a trophy. But he was basically cared for. He got to eat, he got his clothes, clean, he got soft slippers, he was bandaged and cared. He wouldn't be here if Evan didn't want to.

"I like your scent…um, uh, ya have complete freedom in all rooms except the locked ones. They are dangerous. I have traps and other things in them that could hurt ya."

There is another door in the hallway. And another upstairs with a hole in the door… so I can explore anything that's not locked?

"And check stove to make sure ya're not cold here." He put on his mask, well known to Dwight, and prepared to leave. He took the handle and opened the door.

"Evan!"

Dwight blurted out and Evan looked over his shoulder at him.

Just say it. Tell me what you think. DO IT!

"E-Enjoy the trial. I'll try to clean up here a bit and cook something eatable. I will do my best not to get hurt."

A few of the many ideas about having a normal life. Ideas about having a normal family life, in a big house, with his boyfriend, with his cat and just living. Normally. Do normal things. He spent many dreams in this way and longed for a similar household.

Maybe…this is my chance. At least try it.

Evan…didn‘t move. His hand was shaking partially. He took a deep breath. Through the mask, it sounded like a growl, along with an exhalation.

"No one ever told me anythin‘ like that." Evan closed the door. He walked over to Dwight and took off his mask. Dwight blushed and felt a strange tingle in his stomach. "Are ya serious? Ya know what I'm goin‘ to do. Do ya really wish me to be ruthless? Your friends will be mercilessly sacrificed to the Entity…"

Dwight knew all of that. He imagined the four poor people who find themselves in trial with Evan…each of them stepping into the rusty trap at least once. Endless pain and bleeding. He felt his ankles move his muscles just at the thought of the traps.

"I-I'm not one of them anymore. They are not my friends. They left me there… they used me."

As if Evan was waiting for these words. Separation. Absolute freedom from those who made them important to their small pathetic group. Exactly. They left him. It was just a sacrifice for them to save their necks for one trial. Their victim, an indispensable link, was now breaking.

Exactly…destroy the bonds with everyone and form the only bond that is important Which will guarantee your safety and perhaps even a real simulation of a happy life.

"Should I kill them all?" Evan whispered, too close to Dwight's face. The smile on his face was as wide as on his mask.

Yes…yes all. They betrayed me. And if I wasn't here…they would do it again. And again. And I would…know nothing… because during each tiral I have no memories of the previous ones or their names…but…I still know some…I dind’t forget them this time.

"All ya have to do is describe them to me and I’ll make them scream. Because they hurt ya…and I promised that no one would hurt ya."

Near. So close. Dwight's lips were trembling. It may have been his dream kiss, but maybe this wasn't the right opportunity. But it was exciting. So close, a whisper, that strange tightness on his chest.

"A-All of them… but, please spare Claudette. Big glasses, thick black hair, darker skin. She…was the only one I wasn't a punching bag for."

What have I done?

"I like your way. Simply and accurately. I'll see who my next Mori victim will be…" Evan hesitated. There was a hint of…a possible attempt to give…

Too early.

The time has come. He put on his mask and walked out of the door that led nowhere. Just fog.

"Be a good boy, will ya?"

"I will try."

The door closed. As if all space had been locked. Dwight was engulfed in coldness. The stove was warm, but not enough to keep the room warm.

I'll start with the simplest. I put it some wood in the stove. Then I'll take a bath. And after that I will think about what I would cook and if there is something to use for.

A little chopped wood was right next to the stove, along with a pile of old newspapers and chips. The matches were on the shelf. Good to know. If anything happened, he could start a new fire. He knew how. His great-grandfather taught him that.

A few sticks and half a log were enough. The stove warmed up and warmed part of the room.

Bath time. Maybe the water will be half-hearted…even cold water will be good too. Water… if there was soap and clean clothes… You can't have everything Dwight. Be happy for little…

He returned to the bathroom door and slowly opened it. Small bathroom. Cold tiles. One folded towel on the sink. Blue. Underwears, socks and a clean blue T-shirt on the towel. With cute panda. His favorite.

Where did it come from?

Dwight was genuinely pleased. Clean clothes. Water. Food. Time to be alone for a while… soothe still aching erection.

Maybe this is compensation for everything.

As the water filled his tub, he looked at all his bandages in the mirror. He didn't want to ruin them, but they were already dirty, the dried blood already visible. He removed them all and examined all the scars. Shoulder, wrist, ankle, chest. It didn't rot. There was a sign of healing, but a bath was needed.

And it was… huuuu. The best thing since he woke up by the fireplace.

Now he had time to think. Think about everything.

What will happen now?

Is this my new life?

Is this my new chance?

If I go naturally… will he also?

I know there is…tension between us. I can feel it when he looks at me. When he talks to me. When his attention…belongs to me.

Something belongs to me. Wow. A strange feeling of power. Finally. Maybe just a little, but that's where it starts. One small piece, maybe a crumb of cake… and after some time. The whole pie. Just for me. Just mine. No need to share. No need to hide.

The idea was more than tempting. Dwight was alive. He created a perfect picture of his dream right before his eyes. Find a love interest, discover common hobbies, spend time together, start living together in a small house in the village with a garden and pool, two cats, one dog, work close to home to which he would travel by bike…maybe a wedding…

Very beautiful. Unreachable in the real world. In hell… unexplored.

What if I'm just for fun? Filling a momentary void and then…back to the fireplace? But he would have done something a long time ago, right? Evan held back. I know how his hands and voice shook. Blushes. He didn't touch me inappropriately.

Maybe he's scared….maybe he doesn't know…maybe…he knows too well and he's just playing with me…

The water washed away the dried disinfection from his wound. He rubbed stiff scars and remnants of his wounds with his hand. He felt good, albeit in slight pain.

Just calm down. Relax. Take a bath and then you go to cook something good. If you have anything… baked potatoes with bacon…and maybe some dessert.

He fell asleep almost in the bathtub over a beautiful dream of fragrant food and a sweet dessert on his tongue. He carefully dried the wound into a prepared towel. He was very careful not to bleed. The one who treated him did a good and precise job.

Then Dwight looked at himself in the mirror.

Look at you. Are you someone interesting? Should someone like you? Someone…who now has blood on his hands? Someone who used to be so handsome… than tasted the blood and helplessness of his victims… but… why not give it a chance? What can I lose? Will he kill me? There is no end… why not fulfill your little dream… in this hell?

He bit his thumb with a smile to suppress the growing greed in his crotch. When was the last time he had been satisfied? He hid behind the trees several times to satisfy himself, but the more men appeared around him, the worse his unruly erection was.

Each of them had something that aroused the unsatisfied urge in him. And Evan… had everything. Figure, appearance, vigor, authority, power…everything Dwight didn't have. And he urgently needed it.

And now he had it right at his fingertips. Just reach out and take it. Just like that. No persuasion, no coercion.

"A-Ahaah…it hurts"

He took his erection in his palm and rubbed it slowly.

That's right, in the mirror. Your chance. Get him. Examine him. Little by little he reveals his perfect body. Those strong hands, those broad shoulders…just for you. Take him. Let him take you all…

He came so hard that his knees broke and he curled under the sink. It had never been so strong before. He had never felt so weak before.

Without a word, he swallowed grief and washed away the semen that clung to him. He then dressed in his ready-made clothes and quickly left the bathroom.

He felt ashamed. Such nonsense made him literally explode. His body wanted more, but his brain said it was bad…

Why keep listening to your brain?! Where did I go with it? Why not turn it off at least once and just… go for what you want?

A big surprise awaited him in the kitchen.

Stacked medium sized potatoes, bacon, butter, eggs, salt, pepper and apples. Even a white apron…

How? Entity?

He touched individual piece of food. They were real. He lost his understanding of everything. Dwight sighed and began cooking. Smiling, he put on his apron and started cooking. He didn't know how much time had passed since the door had locked behind Evan. The only way he could measure time was to watch the potatoes roast.

Maybe the online courses have paid off…the dessert has to work. I know I can do it.

He put them in the stove so that both the potatoes and the dessert were ready, maybe even a little warm. He threw two logs into the fire and closed the iron door.

As the main course warmed up on the stove and the dessert cooled by a window which he couldn't open, Dwight noticed a stack of old newspapers next to the stove. To light a fire, he thought, taking a stack of newspapers.

Heavy and old. He hadn't felt any worse stench yet. Even old textbooks didn't stink like that. However, the newspapers were still readable. The font was weak but legible. The date was written in the upper right corner…

Dwight froze.

"1971? Excuse me? I-I guess I read it wrong… "

He wasn't wrong. Really. The date of publication was 1971…

Hah… clearly. It was created by the Entity. No real year overview…haha…

He began looking at the text and photos. Everything colorless, sometimes confusing. He noticed a word stuck in his stomach.

"MacMillan Estate."

Where he had heard that? Somewhere for sure, but...

"Coal tower…warehouse…ironworks…mine. Fuck. Do they all belong under one name? Did the Entity take the place? Isn't this just a random build of the world that it may have seen somewhere?"

Real. The places were real. From the real world… from another time.

Lots of information. Lots of important information. And so many questions.

Does that mean…it's from that time? I have to hide it. One copy will be enough, and he will not notice.

He hid the old newspaper behind his pants under his shirt and set up a table. He even found an old piece of cloth under the sink, which may have been a white tablecloth at the time. Now it looked like a table ready for lunch or dinner. Whatever the time was.

It looked like home. Heat in the stove and throughout the room. Meal ready, table prepared…

Coming from work, take a bath, put on home clothes, eat together, talk…

The locks clicked. All walls were filled with a lighter shade. As if life had returned to the whole house…or his lord of his estate.

Dwight wasn‘t nervous that Evan had returned. He was nervous about the food… and then he got an idea.

Evan stepped inside and slammed the door hard. Dwight immediately approached him and rubbed his hands into his apron.

"W-Welcome home… how was your…trial?"

No words needed.

Evan was covered in fresh blood from head to toe. It was a pure massacre. His mask seemed like it bit someone through. There was no place without blood. Evan was still breathing deeply. The poor souls for today's trial were killed one by one.

"Ruthless. One by one. Sacrificed. The Entity was satisfied."

Evan was happy, almost excited. At least in his voice. Dwight didn't want to know if Evan was excited elsewhere than in his voice. He would have a head full of perverse ideas again.

"Y-You look happy…em…"

"I am. A lot. What about ya? Did ya find somethin‘ to enjoy yourself? And somethin‘ nice to wear?" He touched the end of Dwight's apron decently and he left a faint bloody imprint on it. "I like this. Where did ya find it?"

Evan turned and took off his bloody mask, which he then placed on promised place on the shelf. "O-On table…with all the food… em, I-I should…I-I have a suggestion. You said I shouldn't order you…"

"Hmm?"

"Well…" The words didn‘t come on his tongues easily. Evan's clean face didn't feel good in his stomach compared to his bloodied body. "H-How about if you take bath and get…clean clothes and I-I set a table and… you can tell me about what happened during the trial. If you would like. I-It's a proposal…not an order."

Dwight dared to look up and smiled. He hoped. He hid his trembling hands in his apron. He noticed Evan was looking at him the whole time. Evan didn't say anything for a long minute, but he kept the smile on his face. Dwight's face began to turn red.

"Actually, why not."

Dwight was relieved. It went through. The game of a functioning household has begun. Step by step. Simple rules. Simple household laws…

As Evan passed him, he leaned toward Dwight, right next to his ear.

"It's a beautiful feelin‘. To be welcomed in my own house, in such a nice apron. Right after I massacred all your ex-friends. All that's missin‘ is a welcome kiss…but it will come in time. It really… suits ya very much…ya look gorgeous…and ya smell nice."

Under duress, Dwight could barely swallow the greedy saliva. The smell of blood swept across the room until it and Evan disappeared downstairs.

I-It was exciting. All of it. He was next to me. He told me a compliment and a threat in one sentence and my hands and knees are still shaking… good god… why do I want more? Why do I want much more?

He bit his lip and moved back to the stove with suppressed lust and desire. He tossed in some wood and put a reasonable portion of baked potatoes on two plates. He also prepared two glasses and a jug of water.

It was so different from the first time. Suddenly it looked like…at home.

Heavy footsteps rested on the wood. Evan was on his way down.

This fast? Or did I just lose track of time? Again?

Dwight was embarrassed. Have he done everything good? Will Evan like it? Will he want dessert too? Will he talk to him? Should he take down the apron?

It was too much. He overheard Evan arriving at the table.

"This one is the best I could find. I can't spend this unique event in inappropriate rags."

Dwight turned and his head almost tangled.

There was no ruthless killer in front of him, no blood on his hands and a desire to kill imprinted on his face.

In front of him stood a decently dressed young man with a scar on his face, without a trace of blood. Narrow denim trousers, a faded clean shirt with an exposed collar, all finished with dark braces clamped at the sides, leading around his large shoulders.

Fuck…his body…looks more than good.

“What’s fo‘ a dinner?“

Chapter Text

Dwight couldn't eat. His eyes alternated from a plate of good-looking, warm food, and a good-looking, attractive man sitting directly opposite him.

Evan… ate relatively quickly. He made a sound of pleasure after each bite. Before he could say anything, he had another bite in his mouth.

He liked it. Dwight was glad that his attempt called dinner was eatable. He immediately thought about several things that he could do differently, improve or change.

He wasn't even halfway through his dinner, and Evan had an empty plate.

"Can I have more?"

Dwight nodded.

"Y-Yeah. Sure." He stood up and picked up Evan's empty plate. He was either very hungry or he really liked it.

"Why don't ya eat? Did ya cook somethin‘ ya don't eat yourself just for me?" Evan noticed an almost untouched food on Dwight’s plate that may have been almost cold.

Oh, I'm hungry for a much bigger bite than on a plate…

Dwight felt saliva leak from the corner of his mouth.

"I-I eat slowly and I'm rather waiting for what you will say. I don't want to cook something you don't like." When he returned with a double portion and carefully laid it on the table, Evan grabbed his wrist.

"Ey, look at me."

I‘m looking at you all the time. If I look more, the apron won't save me  anymore…

Dwight wanted to watch and he couldn't at the same time. After all, Evan, this man, was no longer the one who was supposed to be afraid of. Evan was not the one who caused him so much pain and countless deaths. He was someone so handsome and attractive that even a deep scar and many other scars couldn‘t disgrace his face enough to stop Dwight from looking and dreaming.

"D-Did I do something wrong?"

"Ya're not lookin‘ at me."

How can I? If I look for a while, I won't calm down my dick, which is on the verge of visibility.

Dwight bit his lower lip and looked into Evan's eyes. He was smiling. His grip turned into a gentle stroking.

"The food is amazin‘. I'm a simple diner, but this is more than basic. Do not underestimate yourself."

Where were you when I needed to hear this? Where were you when I needed to hear these words from a man for whom I am more than a punching bag?

Dwight had a tear on in corner of his eye, but he hid it behind a smile. It was really warm to hear the praise. Even the smallest. A pinch of joy bubbled in him like in a child. He longed to hear more. Much more.

"Just do what ya want to cook. This is your place of action. Show me what ya can do and I will admire ya for what ya do for me."

I want to hug you. Can I hug you? Is it too early? Too fast? Not dignified?

"A-Alright. Thanks for trust. I will think about your words…"

Dwight didn't want to move. He wanted to stay that way. Forever. Maybe sit in his lap and hug him. As he always wanted.

Dwight returned to his chair and finished his now-cold meal. He didn't mind. He was praised. And he will be praised again if he will do what he is told… or what he likes.

The main thing was that Evan was satisfied. Not only from a successful trial, where he killed everyone who fell into his traps or under his cleaver. Which earned him a lot of inner satisfaction and probably bloodpoints…but here at home…home.

Sounds very nice. Home.

"I… I made a dessert… if-if you want."

"Ya did?" Evan couldn't swallow the last bite. He was perhaps even more surprised than when he saw Dwight in an apron. "When did ya do it? Make this and also dessert?"

"I didn't look at the time durring cooking. When you returned, the food was ready." Dwight cut a larger piece of cake and placed it on the table in front of Evan as he took the empty one. "Apple pie…homemade recipe? From things what the Entity gave me."

And now he was nervous. He wasn't sure if Evan was into sweet or if he wasn't full enough.

"How do ya know I like sweets?"

Hah. Hit.

"I-I didn't? I wanted to try it and the Entity just…gave me some apples?"

What sweet do you like? Cold or hot? What is your favorite food? What is your the least favourite food? Are you allergic to anything? Which food can't you even smell? For what food would you kill for?

Later. There is time for everything. He will talk to me. I know it…

Dwight didn't have dessert. He started washing dishes. At least that way he could calm down. Everything went according to plan… which he didn‘t have. Everything just went smoothly. Mainly to make Evan happy.

Satisfied man, satisfied household…as it always is.

The sound of running water couldn‘t drown out Evan's loud enjoyment of the sweet dessert. The clattering sounds made Dwight smile slightly. He immediately figured out what to cook for the next few days. His fantasy almost carried him to unexplored areas, but there was a lack of experience and resources.

It depends on what the Entity offers… don't be greedy.

"Amazin‘…"

Dwight shuddered when he felt a warm blow on his neck. He barely jerked and had nowhere to move. Evan‘s massive body pressed against his back.

"The best thin‘ I could taste in this hell. I would eat it ‘til the end of my days. How can I repay ya for all your work?"

Desire and disgusting perversion twitched in Dwight. These words could be misused in so many ways. Abuse and use to your own advantage. How to deal with them? To what extent? Where would the border fall? Would there be any at all?

"Whatever ya want. Wherever ya are willin‘ to go. Tell me how to show ya my gratitude."

Take me. Hold me. Don't let me go. Squeeze me. Mark me. Respect me. Here and now. Distract me with gentle talk about nothing while you rid me of my dusty chastity. Whatever, just hold me.

"Ya don't have to be ashamed, Dwight."

That was the turning point. The gentle whisper of his name ran through his body, leaving only chaos. How many people made fun of his name? How many people said his name just for the purpose of humiliation? How many people have ever called him that name differently?

"Say it again…my name."

Big hands slowly wrapped around his hips until they met on his stomach. A warm wave of rising pleasure literally hugged him.

"Dwight. This way?"

"Hold me harder."

Evan smiled and pressed Dwight's body closer. He held him around his hips with one hand, pressing it to his chest with the other. He was completely in his arms. Strong and warm. There was no doubt about the heartbeat of both.

"Ya are safe here. Ya are safe with me, Dwight. Here, with me…I will make ya happy. And I will be happy if ya are happy. Dwight, what can I do to make ya happy?"

He touched him. Under the apron. He touched his nipple decently. He slid down from hip to his inner thigh, almost to the inside.

Dwight's knees were shaking. He hadn't experienced as much pleasure in a few seconds as he had in his life. He felt ridiculous and weak, embarrassed by the gentle presentation of his name with even sweeter words and gentle but lustful touches.

Simple things would make him happy. Really just few…functional relationship, functional household… equality between him and…

"Evan…"

"Do ya feel it? That's all your work. That's how I feel. Ya are incredible. Say my name again. No one has ever addressed me by my name… in the way like ya."

Not good.

Big bad.

There was no escape. Dwight was too close. His erection was already too painful. Evan's hand almost touched him. The inside of the thigh became the most sensitive spot on Dwight's body.

"Evan… it's too… I don't know how long…"

"Ya make beautiful sounds. Ya don't have to hide them. I want to hear them. It belongs to me… just like ya…"

Dwight twisted in all directions, trying to grab anything and deny himself under the growing euphoria rubbing in his pants. He managed to grab Evan's shirt and bite his lip. He could no longer sustain the approaching orgasm.

Overwhelmed by touches and tender words…

He came. The strongest and the worst orgasm in Dwight’s life. A joyful wave of lamentations lingered in him for almost two minutes before his body let go. If he wasn’t in a tight hug, he would fall to the ground exhausted.

Then he realized what had actually happened. The biggest awkward moment in his miserable life.

He broke free of the grip, during a weak moment and ran up the stairs. He hid in the first room that came his way.

Evan stood confused. Before he could react, Dwight was gone. He heard the door slam. Everything that just happened… was real. His mind was slowly absorbing it.

Then came a triumphant smile. He noticed that his palm was wet. That was his trophy. He put it to his face. He took a deep breath. He licked it carefully.

That was his trophy. His mark of victory.

He pushed that wet palm into his pants. There were few precise movements. The orgasm came immediately, but it left no such heavy trace of euphoria and exhaustion as Dwight did. On the contrary. It aroused in Evan a greater hunger for…more pleasure…

Dwight slammed the door behind him and curled up on the floor. He leaned his back against the door. The greatest humiliation. Where was bullying at school, ridicule at work and humiliation of his whole person? This was the absolute bottom of embarrassment and shame. He was about to start crying when there was a gentle knock on the door.

"Dwight? Open. Ya don't have to hide fro‘ me." Evan sounded calm. He wasn't trying to get inside. Dwight, on the other hand, didn't want to let him in or open the door. His instinct for self-preservation and shame didn‘t allow him to do so. He didn‘t want to face further embarrassment. He had had enough. He would have slapped himself up if he hadn't been such a Dweak.

"I screwed up… I…I couldn't…"

"It's not your fault. It's a normal thing. I pushed too much. Forgive me. Please, let me in. Let's start differently. As ya want. I won't do anythin‘ ya don't say yourself. It's a new thing for me. I don't know what to do myself…that's why I need ya."

Dwight's chest tightened. He had a strange shimmering feeling in his stomach. He had already experienced a similar feeling, but he didn‘t remember from where and when. Maybe after being caught in this prison from the fog and the never-ending death. He met someone. And he felt the same…

"What if I screw it up again, huh? I'm incompetent!" Dwight shouted desperately, tears welling up in his eyes.

"By tryin‘ together, nothin‘ can go wrong. It's good that yer body is respondin‘ to me. Mine too. If ya're confused…I‘m…too. So we can be together, what do ya think?"

Together? Trying? Maybe I could… a new thing for you too?

If it's a new thing…everything that happened between them… it means that…

“H-How many relationships did you have? Before…me, or this hell?"

There was silence behind the door for a long time, then there was soft laugh.

"None. I'm an unwritten page…but we can say more when there is no door between us."

The idea that they were both inexperienced and had no idea what to do and how… a smiling idea. Dwight could hardly believe it. With such a figure, a face… inexperienced? But if he had a weakness for men… and that date was real… the 20th century was very much against homosexuals. He often read that they were punished more than murderers. They were even more often sent to the gallows…

Hide. Pretending… and screaming… like me… nothing has changed over the centuries.

Dwight slowly opened the door. He couldn't wipe the tears from his face, and more were forming when he saw Evan waiting patiently outside the door. He said nothing, just smiled.

"Let's gather experience together."

Evan waited and slowly gave hand palm upto Dwight. A gesture that meant far more to Dwight than Evan could have imagined.

Don't let a chance escape between your fingers. No anymore. Take it.

He held out his hand carefully, uncertainly. It was obvious that Dwight's hand was shaking. But before their palms touched, Dwight dodged and hugged Evan around the waist. He pressed his head to his chest and pressed his fingers into his shirt.

"Together…"

He sighed softly as he inhaled the intoxicating scent of Evan's shirt and Evan himself. The warmth around him grew as two strong arms wrapped around him and long fingers ran into his hair.

Evan was silent. But he had a triumphant smile on his face.

A more scary smile. Lucky Dwight couldn‘t see him. Maybe he wouldn't press himself against his body anymore.

"Mine…"

Chapter Text

Dwight should feel like in the clouds.

Dwight should have felt like a winner.

And he was confused. He was still not happy with what he had just gained. He wanted to know more. It is not possible to fall in love with a person without knowing anything about him. There is love at first sight, but it is for the weak and desperate. They should know each other, understand each other flow of thoughts, habits and displeasures…

And the first thing he did was literally kidnap him and lock him in his house…well, reality is always different than dreams. But dreams… become my reality… at least in someway.

Although Evan met all the necessary and desired attributes in Dwight's eyes, Dwight was still hungry for information. He felt like an annoying child who kept asking and asking, and everyone around him was just irritated and pushing him away.

What if Evan thinks so too? Am I irritating? He wouldn't be the first to think that. I can play on people's nerves… but I don't want to bother him. But I want to know him and it will not work other than by communication. I have to ask! Although I'll be annoying-

"What are ya thinkin‘ ‘bout?"

How much time has passed? The last time they stood on the floor in front of the bathroom, they were now sitting on the sofa. Evan ate something while Dwight right next to him.

"Are you eating?"

Good. God. Why?

"Yeah, I took another piece of cake. Don’t ya mind?"

It was as if a child was asking when he took a biscuit after a meal. Dwight felt warm in his face. He must have blushed again. The sight of an adult, well-dressed, perfectly built man enjoying the sweet and enjoying it as a small child.

Why does it sound cute to me?

"I-I did it for you. Eat as much as you want a-and whenever you want… I'm glad… you like my creation. I'm really happy."

Someone appreciates my work. Not a little, not out of coercion… just… so.

"I love sweets. Anything sweet. Cakes, buns, biscuits, strudel, fruit ice, compote, jam. Then the whole kitchen smell so nice…the times when she-"

He swallowed the last words with his pie.

***

"Whacha doin‘, mommy?"

“I bake a pie. Apple pie. Do you want some?"

"I love mommy‘s apple pie!"

"Careful, honey. It‘s still hot. Don't eat hot pies, your belly will hurt. It always has to cool down."

"Can I have some cocoa? I really like mommy‘s hot cocoa with cinnamon and caramel. "

"Your sweet tongue. You like sweets, don't you, honey."

"Only from mommy! No one can do it as good as you. My mommy!"

"May you never grow up…may you love me for the rest of your life."

“I will love you forever mommy! You will be my only mom! Forever!"

"Sweetheart… my… only…"

***

Anyone in the family? He literally loves sweet… homemade sweet.

Dwight swallowed and quietly watched Evan chew. The little details… how the tongue always went first, tasted first… long, strong, hot…

In my mouth… all over my body… why do I have so many perverted ideas just by watching him eat?!

Was it normal? To have ideas about a man who ate what he ate trochu with a little refined taste. Unique way…

Dwight felt damp in his mouth. Too wet, maybe a drop of saliva escaped from the corner of his lip… when will be another opportunity…

And then Evan started licking his fingertips! Slowly one by one. The first finger was literally embraced by the tongue. He thoroughly cleaned his fingers of residual sugar and dough.

If I was the rest of his fingers…

"Y-Your gaze is…well, ya distractin‘ me."

Damn.

“I-I- I'm sorry! I'm so sorry… I… I thought a-a-a-a- "

"I-If ya're thinkin‘ about it, it's fine!" Evan turned his head so that Dwight would lose sight of his expression.

One thing was clear…he was blushing. Like Dwight.

Before Dwight opened his mouth, Evan stood up sharply and shifted his shy expression into the kitchen. Dwight also wanted to run. Hide somewhere. Evan returned immediately with another piece of pie. He sat back in place. Dwight was afraid to look at Evan, but he had to. However, when he turned, he felt something soft on his lips, with an apple scent.

"Eat." Evan ordered, holding the pie so close to Dwight‘s mouth that even if he didn't want to, it‘d be forcibly pushed in as soon as he opened his mouth. Dwight was confused, but wanted to save himself from unnecessary pressure.

He opened his mouth and bit into a pie.

Hmm. He is not bad. Maybe too sweet to my taste…

Evan smiled and followed with his bite.

T-T-T-That is an unmeasured kiss! My saliva, then his. One bite after another! This is too much.

And again. He had to bite, a bigger one this time. Together they had one piece eaten or three bites each. But the main part was…

"My fingers are messy and I don't wanna any more…will ya take care of it?" It was not a suggestion, it was an order he wanted to carry out. Evan's sweetly sticky fingers gently touched Dwight's lips. Slowly, his index finger slid into a hot saliva bath.

That's exactly what he wanted…something like that.

Carefully and slowly, Evan‘s long finger rolled on Dwight‘s tongue as if in a warm duvet. He thoroughly researched previously unexplored territory… researched and looked for anything that could subsequently play in his favor.

Dwight tried to stay calm, but his red cheeks clearly revealed his condition. It was very alive. Uncontrollable. Large…

The second finger followed, while the first continued to enjoy the softness into the hot intoxication. Two fingers were already a pleasant simulation for Dwight… of what might come any day. Despite his inexperience, he used a little and began to play with his tongue over the idea… which for him had been a mere obscene desire until now.

Is it wrong to imagine that it's him? His…cock?

His fingers were more than welcome in his mouth. He rewarded them appropriately with gentle suction. Evan took a deep breath and ... added one last sweet finger.

That was it.

Perfect simulation of oral contact. Size, strength, speed… person. But Dwight wasn't the only one in the room who wanted to experiment.

After all, the three massive fingers were too much for Dwight's untrained mouth. He couldn't swallow his saliva, so strands of saliva began to leak from both corners of his mouth. But that didn't mean it had to stop. Quite the contrary. Dwight - consciously or unconsciously - accompanied the whole special moment with his loud lamentations that were more than natural. Evan, on the other hand, tried to hold on as quietly as possible, but eager saliva escaped his lip, which he grabbed up his sleeve.

The strange silence and pressure increased not only in the room, especially between them. Dwight pulled away slightly as Evan leaned more and more toward Dwight's face.

A special force pulled them away and attracted them at the same time. It was excited. Drought and repressed desire on the part of Evan, damp and unbridled desire and lust on the part of Dwight.

They both wanted more… and they both… were afraid. They were afraid of the unknown. They didn‘t want to disappoint or intimidate each other….

The perfectly clean wet fingers left Dwight's wet mouth very, very slowly, leaving a damp trail behind.

Dwight was in a veil of intoxication. He was trying to get his heart rate back to normal…

Evan was embarrassed, drowned in desire. He wanted everything. Now. Just a move and it would be his. Just a touch and he wouldn't escape anymore…

Dwight wiped the saliva from his lips on the back of his hand and conjured such a blissful smile on Evan that if he hadn't sat down for a long time…his knees would literally break and he would fall to the ground.

"C-Can I give you a kiss?"

Dwight's lips trembled with a constant smile. Fear of rejection or tension of anticipation. Evan swallowed hard. He literally bit his lip.

***

“Ya monster! No one will love ya!”

"You are a disgustin‘ scum that will never be loved!"

"Love is only for cowards and the weak. I removed all the weaknesses from the way."

"Ya are just like me. Always and only, taking with the hard power. No emotions. Do ya understand?! ”

"A night in the basement will help ya, to think about who actually killed your poor mother."

"The apple ain‘t fallin‘  far from the tree, eh?"

***

He wasn't that monster. Now he could be who he always wanted to be - someone who would be loved despite the dirt on his hands.

"I-I-I never-"

"Neither do I…it is said that if you close your eyes, it will happen."

Evan didn't want anything to happen. He wanted it all to make sense. For him. For both. So they both get what they want. To offer him anything he asked for…just to secure his smile.

But he believed Dwight's words. He closed his eyes, but before that he took Dwight's hand uncertainly. Dwight didn't flinch. Even such a minimal touch, the whole moment was very intimate.

He was safe. Nothing could go wrong.

Just calm down. The first kiss… it will be good.

Soft.

Gentle.

Wet.

They could barely feel what was happening on their lips.

Dwight's eyes widened. He couldn't believe what was happening.

Evan's eyes widened. He didn‘t believe that he would survive until this moment at all.

They saw each other's eyes. For a moment. Then they blinked again.

But this moment of the first kiss… lasted seconds, minutes…

Strange feeling on the chest and inside the stomach.

Evan didn't let Dwight‘s hand when they were forced to separate their lips. Dwight didn‘t lose his blissful smile with beginning tears in his eyes, a warm desire erupted in Evan again…

"D-Dwight"

"Yes?"

"Ya' bleedin‘…"

Chapter Text

Bleeding was a common thing. Dwight bled almost all the time during the trial. The blow with a sharp weapon caused massive bleeding and the pungent pain he felt throughout the trial. Until he found a first aid kit or a willing survivor to heal him.

It became commonplace. Pain and blood during the trial… why he panicked now that a few stitches had come loose and blood was seeping through his shirt and apron. Why was it different now? Why did he suddenly started to cry?

Was it… because he was promised safety? No pain or blood?

Why did the idea of an ideal world and a fairy-tale life begin to fall apart?

Evan panicked more than might be expected. He trembled more than Dwight. At the highest moment, when Dwight needed physical contact and some words to calm down, Evan disappeared into the fog. The house was locked, all the walls lost color and the whole space was filled with cold.

Don't leave me… I need you…

"Where is my patient?" A woman's voice spread across the room, as did the warmth and color. Evan returned with woman.

Whose voice was it? He had never heard such a thing.

As soon as Dwight looked up, the blood froze in his veins. Long medical gown, bare feet, narrow hands, veiled face, small figure.

Dwight was about to scream from his full lungs as a large figure emerged from the fog directly behind the tiny, though dangerous, figure of a woman.

"It’s alrigh! Mrs. Smithson will look at the bleedin‘."

"Somehow you became a gentleman. This young man has an extraordinary influence on you. Hello, you can call me Sally. What's your name?"

The lovely voice certainly didn‘t belong to the same person who enjoyed strangulation. To this monster with a hateful and painful cry.

Dwight's throat tightened as if thin hands gripped him and strangled him mercilessly. Like every…single…trial…

"D-D-D-D-"

"Dwight. His name is Dwight. We had an unpleasant incident with ay last visit." Evan took over the situation as Dwight looked down and put his hand on his neck. It was as if she were clutching it. The only thing that kept him from trying to escape was Evan's worried but firm expression. In addition, he was three steps away from him. He would intervene in the greatest emergency… he would certainly intervene. He certainly wouldn't just stare to be strangled by a disturbed nurse.

He would definitely save him. Dwight believed it.

“Post-traumatic stress disorder...quite common in patients with his experiences. My dearest boy. What we went through together. I'm sorry and I won't apologize at the same time. It sounds better in my mind… well, in my time, I would be punished equally. Death for death. Here you know how it goes. But now your position is… quite different."

She approached him. Her feet touched the ground. She approached Dwight very lightly and slowly. Dwight looked up when he saw the cracked pale legs. The woman revealed her emaciated pale face and tender dark eyes. Her lips were so thin that they blended with her pale skin. She made sign of a smile.

"What I was told." She looked back at the waiting Evan, who was clutching his crossed arms at his chest. His muscles trembled. He was tense and ready to intervene.

Or so Dwight thought.

"Evan wanted you here, so he put a lot of effort and time into it," she said in a whisper, forcing Evan to stretch his neck to listen more closely. "And you are here under his protection. You are very lucky. You've always been his favorite-"

"Um! Will ya need anythin‘ fro‘ me, Mrs. Smithson?" He was angry. Dwight sensed it in his voice and attitude. Who should be more worried about now?

"Of course. Be so kind and bring us a bucket of clean water, cold if possible, a towel and a belt. I have all the necessary tools with me already."

She said it so confidently. So noble. She had the upper hand. She was on top of the stout Evan, his muscles trembling under the onslaught of repressed fury.

"Please, my dear. You asked me for help for your dear. Do the same for me and I'll help him."

Evan… kept his tongue behind his teeth and, with heavy, very heavy steps, left his guests alone while searching for the necessary things.

"He doesn't like it when someone orders him. Always ask him clearly. He will hear you. He has you in his head all the time. Since that day…"

She sat down on the couch next to Dwight and put a leather bag on her lap. Slowly she began to pull out bandages, sewing, scissors, various ointments and disinfectants. No sign of a bloodied saw. Dwight took a deep breath. His hands shook.

"It's all right, darling. You've lost a lot of blood and you're afraid that I came to hurt you. It's not this way. This is not trial. I was asked to treat your injuries. Let's start with simple steps. Talk to me. You are nervous and with talking, you will calm your body and mind. Please, it will help us both."

Dwight swallowed and tried to suggest the image of a caring nurse from a city hospital. They were always very kind and caring. He was not the target of their ridicule, but the goal of their interest. They always tried to help him, whether he had a monocle or a new burn or other injury. Everyone knew him and everyone loved him.

"I-I'll try it…and…b-but you have to help me."

"With pleasure. Let's start with the basic questions, then move on to more fun. Say your full name, and any hobbies. I'm Sally Smithson, I'm a former sister from Crotus Prenn Asylum. I like children. I like to play with them, read to them, work with them. Although I didn't give birth to any…It was a bad time. How about you, my dear boy?"

He almost forgot that there was a murderess sitting next to him, silencing their cries of pain and despair.

“M-My name is Dwight… -Fairfield. I'm from Seattle, in Washington. My family has lived there since the beginning. My great-grandfather told me how his great-grandfather and maybe his great-grandfather started the industrial revolution. I-I like to read about it. 19th century… and then I work a lot… so I worked. I did all the work. I delivered pizza, which is my favourite food… I-I also delivered newspapers…I wore costumes in shopping malls, worked as a car mechanic, telephone support… everything you guest. We didn't have the money, so I had to go to work right after highschool, but I didn't stay anywhere for a long time."

"You're doing very well…oh, you are back. Thank you dear. That should be enough. Let's see "

Evan appeared in the room, no longer followed by heavy footsteps. Now he was careful. Maybe he calmed down.

"Water, towel and belt. Somethin‘ else?"

"The last thing. Please leave us alone. I need a calm patient and I have to concentrate."

Dwight swallowed and looked at Evan. He looked directly at him. He didn't look excited, but his muscles were no longer shaking with tension.

"Everythin‘ ‘right?" Evan took a breath as he directed his question to Dwight.

“Yeah. I think so. You?"

Evan didn't answer. So, he was still upset.

But this was not Dwight's fault. It was an injury from the last trial that Evan had caused him. He should be mad at himself. Why he was mad at him?

"It will take a couplr of minutes. I will clean the wounds, remove the old sutures, give new ones and bandage."

Dwight, like Evan, was silent. They were silent for a long time. Sally looked over her shoulder and motioned for Evan to leave the room without a word.

He bit his lip. A few drops of blood escaped his lip. Very, very difficult steps followed up the stairs. Subsequent door cracking.

Finally they were alone…was it actually good at all?

"Where did we end up…please take off your shirt and lie on your back so that the wounds are closer to me."

"D-Do you know him? Somehow…closer?"

Sally was pleasantly surprised by Dwight's interest in communication. On request, Dwight took off his shirt and lay down on the couch. The wounds were wet with blood. Sally took water on a towel and carefully began wiping the blood.

"You mean Evan? He is stubborn. He doesn't like to speak on call. You have to catch his interest, then he answers even less pleasant questions."

"I wish I could too…"

"Actually, you're the only one with whom Evan is able to express any emotion. Well, there is also Dr. Carter, but that's capacity. He knows how to work with hardened individuals. I'll pull the stitches now, maybe it'll sting."

Dwight took a breath and quickly considered another question to learn more about Evan.

"You said…something about his head…what do you mean?" Sally laughed softly.

"It simply came to my notice. Although I wonder myself. He had never revealed anything before. Then he left Dr. Carter some of his drawings. He is very talented."

"Drawings?"

"Sketches. Drawings, whatever you want to call it. He has a deep sense of detail. Especially when it focuses on the human face. He captured yours in the smallest detail."

Seriously? Why don't I know anything about it? When and where did he sketch me? Why didn't he show me any of his drawings?

And again. Why was it so hard to get something important about yourself from Evan? Was it so hard to confide? Was it so difficult to put a little trust in a simple weak survivor? It was really too much for him to open up to someone he was obviously interested in, though Dwight himself didn't believe it might be true.

"You are brave. You're holding on tight, unfortunately now I'm going to ask you to take the belt in your mouth and clench your jaw. What follows will be painful, I will do my best to save you from unnecessary pain."

The pain… that is lost compared to the one that fills me more and more. Evan, why?

***

They thought Evan had gone upstairs. He originally wanted to go there, but he was filled with great angry. Very great anger. And he had to share new experiences that he could slowly taste after years of excruciating torture, denial, and hiding.

How to begin? What to say? Say anything at all?

"I'm so pissed off! So damn much! This waitin' is overwhelmin‘! I have to hit somethin‘! Not once, several times. Beat the soul out of ya. Just because I can. I have the power, I have the power! Ya? Ya are nothin‘. Ya're not even dirt on my shoes. Even dust is more valuable than ya."

"I said I wouldn't come here for long…I didn't miss ya. Not a bit. Your disgustin‘ face, your disgustin‘ existence. I want to throw up just lookin' at ya. Ya unwanted monster…why didn't I bury ya far from MY land or throw your bones to your beloved bears... how was it really, HA?"

"A-Ahaaaha. Did ya see that? Did ya see that?! I did it! My first kiss… and he didn‘t even twitch. It was very strange. I couldn't move. I didn't know that lips could be so soft. I…like it so much…"

"Do ya know what that means? Just a few steps and we'll fuck. Exactly. Everywhere ya look. And ya will hear it all. I'll make him scream so ya can hear it all the way here. I can't wait… all my life I've had to hide just to remind myself… what a disgustin' faggot I am."

"I can't…I can't wait. That bitch is touchin‘ him. I don't want anyone else to touch him. He‘s mine! That's why I shed so much blood to get him that ya didn't beat from all your employees and even me…he belongs to me ... just…ME! Like everythin‘ here. Why do I let that shitty bitch touch him? Because he started bleedin' and I'm not a fuckin‘ doctor. I didn‘t know what to do! I panicked… suddenly he had a bloody apron and… a-almost passed out. FUCK!"

"I waited too lon‘ for him to…havin‘ him in my arms. I couldn't save my mommy, and I won't let him die here… I promised myself I wouldn't let him die! Too bad ya tried to throw more dirt on me… blame your own son… ya didn't want Jimmy to wake up, did ya? What was that this time? Did he owe ya money? Did he accuse ya of what a disgustin‘ monster ya were? How would ya fuck yer wife ya killed? Or did he mention that ya and I are different? I wonder why…and why my uncle had to be removed from the way… did he know somethin‘?"

"I can't wait. FUCK, what if she hurts him?! What if it only makes his injuries worse. I made them, but the Entity always cured them. Always! Why is he bleedin‘ and feelin‘ pain now? That shouldn't have happened! He should be safe here. From all evil, from bad people…"

"I-I want to touch him… but I don't know how. I don't know if he'll like it… what if I'm too rough? What if he starts cryin‘ in my arms? What if I hurt him? What should I do? I need to know!"

“Ahh-haha…clearly. After all, I'm a disgustin‘ faggot  who has no right to breathe…that's why ya're silent. I should have broken your legs twice and then broken your arms. That's how you taught me…"

"I want to throw up just to be here with ya…I have to check the situation. Don't make trouble or I'll split yer skull in half. Ya're pissin‘ me off. See ya."

***

"You are very brave. Done. Take a deep breath. I'll tie it all up now."

Dwight was unable to speak. He used all his strength to endure the pungent pain. He dug his teeth into the belt and tried his best to be as quiet as possible. He didn't want Evan to hear him. What would he do? He would rush here and maybe be furious. Or worse. He would watch Dwight suffer.

He had to be strong. He must not known another weakness. He was already weak. Next to Evan, next to anyone else. He has already suffered a lot of pain, both physical and mental. This was just a light case… and he still didn‘t keep his tears in his eyes.

"So be it, then. You are an amazing patient. You have to be very strong and brave. Drink this and don't move much. I'll call Evan…"

"Evan… no…not yet…"

"No. No, don't get up. Rest. The stitches needs to-"

"I-I'm not weak… I can handle it…" He couldn't. He barely stayed on his feet and immediately sat down. Pain was one thing, mentally and physically he was exhausted. He couldn't wipe the tears from his face. His whole chest burned. The smell of disinfectant was like an intoxicating drug that stuck in his nose. "I am not weak. I-"

“Dwight? What happened?!" Oh, you are back…

"The patient is stabilized, but exhausted. The operation went well. I cleaned the wounds and sewed them again. I disinfected ankle and pulled out the stitches. He will need a rest. Can I count on you?"

 Nonononono. Don‘t look at me. Weak man who can't stand a little pain… in this hell.

"Dwight, it's goin‘ to be okay. I'm here. Here, boy…"

He felt a touch on his face and the also on his hand. However, he didn‘t have the strength to react in any way. His lips barely curled into a small smile.

"What's wron' with him?!" Evan sounded embarrassed, perhaps angry. Everything sounded strange. Too quiet… and at the same time too loud…

“An analgesic-based drug. Dr. Carter gave it to me. It should relieve the pain in the body."

"How long will it be like this…" The touches were gone. Dwight didn't feel well…

N-No. Don't leave me here…

"Few hours. He needs sleep and… hihi. A little tenderness. "

Did she laugh because I'm so weak and I can't do it alone? Did she laugh… because I'm useless?

"I appreciate your work, Mrs. Smithson. I'll take care of him."

"He is a nice boy. Be nice to him. He needs-"

Dark.

Silence.

Heat.

Soft.

Regular gentle blows.

Touches in the hair.

Familiar scent.

Familiar voice.

"-ne"

A very familiar voice.

Gentle finger touches.

"Mi-"

Too close.

Too close.

But safe.

Familiar voice. A warm voice. A quiet voice.

"Mine."

"Evan…"

He didn't see. He just felt it. Familiar voice. The familiar scent. Familiar touches. And he still felt safe.

"I'm here."

More touches. More heat. More tenderness.

"Will you stay with me?"

"Forever. I won‘t leave ya. I won't let ya leave me."

"Will you take care of me?"

"If ya take care of me. I will take care of ya."

"Do you want me?"

"I do. Very much. It's unbearable."

"So…after I sleep and heal, we can do more things. Everything…"

"Only what ya want…I don't want to hurt ya."

"I want everything. I never had anything…now…I want everything. You will give me everything. I gave you my first kiss…I will give you my virginity."

"I didn't believe I could find someone in this hell…who would like me at least a little. Even for who I am."

"I thought hell was my whole life …will you let me know you better?"

"I will try to…"

"Then I'll try not to be weak…"

"I am weak… ya are my weakness…"

"So…we can be weak together…but you are strong… I can't  be strong."

“Sometimes… bein‘ emotionally weak… is worse than painful punishment and physical inability…hah… sleep now. We'll talk when ya're fully conscious…"

"Promise me you'll let me know you better. I don‘t know anything about you."

"I promise I'll try."

"Hmmm, a big strong guy with a trust issues…I like it…"

"I need to talk to Herman… I need the medicine too…"

"Will you give me a kiss? And more of them. On the mouth? Before I fall asleep? Please?"

"Whatever ya ask this nicely."

One gentle touch. Another kiss. A gentle wet kiss. Then another. Gentle lip dance. No tooth touch. The tongues barely clashed.

Dwight was smiling.

Evan shivered.

Only small gentle kisses and even softer decent touches in his hair and hands that lulled Dwight to a lovely sleep. And Evan trembled with excitement and nervousness. He couldn't sleep. The pressure and pain in his crotch didn't allow him to close his eyes.

"Mine. Just mine. Forever. They won't touch ya. Just me."

Chapter Text

Evan is eighteen years old. It's his birthday. He is already fully adult man. He should be. His friends repeat it to him over and over again. Everything will start to change from your adulthood. They said to him. Although he had a completely different idea of what would change in his life when he reached the age of majority, he still trusted his friends.

He was the youngest in the whole group of workers, but he was never teased for it. They didn't allow it to him. After all, he was the son of a ruthless boss who would mercilessly get rid of weak links. And the strong again rubs to the last drop until it breaks them.

Archie is a bad man. Nobody liked him. He had no friends. He is an businessman. Cold-blooded and ruthless. Evan is not like that. Only when he has his father behind his back or performs the necessary tasks for him, for which he alone, due to his age, is no longer capable.

Eighteenths are extraordinary. You should celebrate them properly.

Desmond replaced Archie at a time when Evan needed fatherly advice. Good fatherly advice. Even a few warm words were...for Evan...valuable. From the beginning of puberty…

Desmond was the one who made total chaos in his head. Over the years, he learned to suppress his shyness whenever Desmond spoke to him. It was embarrassing, but understandable at his age. Now he had to be able to control himself. Although he felt a refined affection for him.

"Welcome to the world of adults. As a whole group, we allowed ourselves a modest gift. Until the boss is here."

Sketch set. Eraser, pad with sandpaper, carbon pencil, pastel color pencil, dry pastel for sketching, carbon pastel, ruler, graphite pencil, toning pencil, colored dry pastel, sharpener, wooden human body model, natural carbon, block of paper for sketching…everything in a wooden case.

"Happy Birthday, Evan. From all of us."

Evan is on the verge of tears. He had never received something so nice in his life. He doesn‘t expect kind words from his own father, let alone a wish or even a gift. Another sign of weakness. Weakness must not be highlighted. That's what he always said.

Evan is more than grateful. He can't find better words than "Thanks a lot. I have to hide it or he will destroy and burn it." Archie destroyed countless sketches, breaking several pencils. It was not a problem to destroy further evidence of weakness. This had to be hidden and rescued. It was too precious as a gift.

Where to hide it? He tells himself when the shift is over and everyone has left their land. Where to hide something so valuable and precious, where a sick old man will not find it if he does not know exactly what to look for?

Warehouse. There are a lot of things and boss always sends someone to do the dirty and hard work for him.

Evan hides in the smaller room. It‘s bigger than closet full of spare parts. The light from the sun is enough for him to get a good look at his new set. Little by little, he admires the new addition to his secret collection and can't wait to try everything.

He closes the door to the warehouse. Someone enters and closes behind. Evan stiffens. No one was supposed to be here at this time. It's not father's walk. Father had to walk on a cane, there was no sound of a cane hitting the wooden floor. This is a healthy pair of male feet.

Evan wisely left the door slightly open. He had a limited view of the next room, where the moderately heavy footsteps had stopped. He is curious, but he is afraid. Who is it?

Evan stays on the ground, trying to peer at the uninvited guest through the small space. He sees him. The man has his back to him. He has a work uniform. He knows him. The uniform is theirs. It's one of his people. His employee.

The man sits on a large box. Evan recognizes him. Black thick standing hair, beard, rimmless glasses. Innocent look, dark eyes, nervous look with decent smile.

Desmond? What is he doin‘ here? I saw him leave…his wife and children are waitin‘ for him…

Evan smiles. He has nothing to fear. He can come out of his hiding place and find out what's going on.

The door opened again. This time sharply. Heavier steps follow. Evan crouches again, this time not knowing who that person is. Another man. Also his worker.

"Everyone gone?"

"Yep, boss and son left the field. Big boy, isn‘t he? As long as Archie can walk, he won't let him go."

That‘s Tommy. What are they doin‘ together here? They can gossip off the land. I should kick them out.

"We must be patient. He's already walkin‘ on a stick. It won't be long."

"And I've been waitin‘ for two weeks. Ya almost cried last time."

What? Are they goin' to fight?

"Shut up. I have wife. I have to help here with kids."

"Sure. And it's still not enough for ya and your hungry ass."

Tommy approaches Desmond. He smacked him over his ass. They are very close to each other. Desmond's knees touch Tommy's thighs. They are both smiling. Desmond moves his head very slowly from side to side.

"Don't ruin the atmosphere. I've been horny since lunch."

"Really? Are ya? So what are ya waitin‘ for?"

Tommy lunges at Desmond, who shakes his head. He holds Tommy by the shoulders. He hugs him around the hips with his feet. His feet slides up and down from Tommy‘s thighs. They touch each other. They seduce each other. They know what they're doing.

Evan…knows what they want. He swallows hard. He feels saliva escaping from the corner of his mouth. His hands are shaking and his heart is pounding hard in his chest.

He doesn't know what's going on. But his mind stops thinking normally. The dirtiest fantasy… becomes a reality.

"No kissin‘."

"But ya can suck my dick. The woman knows shit-"

"One more word about my wife and I will make ya scream after I bite ya, shithead."

"Come on, princess. On the ground. Show me what daddy taught ya."

It's worse than Evan's fantasy. Their words are far worse. More perverse. More realistic. Evan feels a warmth of heat in his crotch.

They will…Desmond…

Desmond kneels down as Tommy unbuckles his belt. Desmond helps him. He eagerly licks his lips.

Evan sees in part. Tommy is a large figure, Desmond has broad shoulders, but is small compared to Tommy. Evan can barely see his hands hugging Tommy‘s hips.

"Slowly, princess. Ya have all the time. Be thorough, ya want to enjoy it too. Don't bite or I'll hit ya."

"Temptin‘."

He takes him in his mouth. Partly. His head begins to move. Desmond tilts his head to the side. His eyes are closed. Glasses are hazy. That plays to Evan's cards. They might notice him. Evan is so close to them. Just few steps. And they have no idea.

Desmond makes the sounds of mild suffocation and pressure on his neck. The speed of his movements gradually accelerates. Tommy moans. He strokes Desmond's hair. He enjoys his care. It's nice view, but the more Desmond's speed increases, the louder Tommy is.

Evan feels his crotch hungry begging for same or better attention. He tries to keep his mouth shut and…enjoys the spectacle lustfully.

He had never seen anything like it. His imagination was dirty and very lustful. However, a few leaflets and a magazine in the mattress aren’t even close to…this scenery.

Eager saliva escapes from the corner of his mouth as he releases a sore erection from his solid pants. He takes his hard cock carefully. He mimics Desmond's pace. He imagines taking Tommy‘ place. Desmond in his crotch, caresses and pampers his erection. Enjoying him.

Haah…

Desmond literally swallows Tommy's erection deep in the throat. And hold. Tommy sighs loudly. He holds Desmond's hair so tightly he can't move.

Evan is crushing himself at the same time. He feels the pleasure, he feels the pressure. And he wants it…but he can‘t.

This is not supposed to be happening. This is not right. This is ugly, disgusting, filthy, against nature. Two men shouldn‘t do this.

Why is it so excitin‘? Why do I want it too? So badly…

"Fuuuuck…enough, or I'm done in a second. Ya doin‘ well… how bad do ya want me to be?"

Desmond takes a deep breath. His chin is damp from saliva, tears streaming down his eyes.

"Very bad. I was a bad boy. I want it so badly. Punish me…"

Tommy takes Desmond by hair. Through a sharp and strong pull, he forces him to stand up and turn around. He holds his hand clasped behind his back. Even if he wanted to run, he didn't stand a chance.

"Naughty boy should be fucked without preparation. So he remember what is wron‘ and what he can’t do. "

Why… why does it sound so… disgustingly good?

Evan is leaking so much that he doesn‘t need a lubricant or cream. Preejaculate is more than enough. It's unbelievable how little was…so much and Evan is on the verge of his senses. And he‘s barely touching himself. Over the years, masturbation over gay porn and shit has had its limits… this is worse and better at the same time.

"Don't even try it…l-left pocket."

"Do ya feel like ya are in a position to set the rules?"

"I don't know who's fuckin‘ someone here."

"A guy who gets fucked by man is worse than a guy who is fuckin‘ a man. Strength determines position."

Tommy is right. It's all about strength…

Evan is slowly teasing his dick, because he suspects that the real action, the long-wanted and longed-for action that all three are hungry for…

Moments of domination, humiliation and euphoria.

Tommy reaches into Desmond's left pocket and pulls out a small bottle. Desmond bends over the box and takes a deep breath.

"Can ya at least reduce the marks for today? Last time…it was close, I said it was from a fight… "

Desmond's work pants fell to the ground. Tommy helps him get his foot out of it. He kicks his ankle. It forces him to spread his legs.

Evan swallows hard. Still trying to… endure. It's so intense. So disgusting. So perverse. Watching someone during such an intimate moment.

"A good boy doesn't behave like that. Beg for it and maybe I'll satisfy ya."

Tommy leans over Desmond and rubs a clear liquid between his fingers.

"Please, daddy. I'll be nice. Don't mark my body…everyone laughs at me… "

Sounds so innocent. It sounds so longed for. He had no idea, let alone an idea of what it might sound like…

Desmond…

Desmond shouts. He screams lovingly.

"Two already? Ya're disgustingly horny. Your wife doesn't give you an often fuck, does she?"

He is punished for his words. Tommy tugs his hair and inserts his fingers deep inside.

"Don't open your mouth when I finger ya, ya little bitch. Be a good boy…"

"Mmmm…daddy…"

"That’s a goood boy. Open up to me and I promise ya I won't mark your skin."

Desmond writhes and moans. Tommy has full power and control. Evan trembles in the dark and seclusion, trying to keep quiet.

Evan covers his mouth…

Tommy takes Desmod by the hips and penetrates him with all his might. Desmond screams, but he's not in pain. Evan crushes his genitals, trying to simulate a situation on himself.

They start moving. Slowly and decently. Desmond mumbles incomprehensible words as Tommy sighs loudly and triumphantly over him.

"So…fuckin‘…tight. Ya really want it hard, don't ya?!"

"Yes! Daddy, please. I want your big cock so deep. I really want it. Please, daddy. Give it to me-"

"That‘s a good little boy of mine. If he wants somethin‘, he will ask nicely."

Brutal attacks follow. Desmond loses his words, struggling with only partial cries that are violently suppressed by Tommy's brutal pace. He can't talk, he just moans. Maybe some of the words are snippets of original words - daddy, faster, big.

Evan shakes and speeds up and intensifies. It was as if he were standing in place of Tommy. As if he were the one who would rid Desmond of his words and all his man will. For the moment, Desmond is a woman, who shouts more and begs even louder. They chose their place well. The walls are thick and the doors are heavy and lockable. This is not their first intercourse. Definitely not the last.

Evan is close. He feels the pressure, the heat, his whole body trembles. He bites his lip and muffles his incipient lamentations. However, he has one name on the tongue… which is reflected in the walls.

"Ya're good, Desmond. You will never disappoint… where ya want to-gha!"

"M-Mouth! Please, I want to swallow ya, daddy. Please! I’m -"

Before he can finish his request, Tommy pulls him to his knees and pushing his erection deep in Desmond‘s throat. Desmond swallows contentedly and finishing himself with a few movements of his own hand. Moaning while he sucks Tommy to dry.

Evan is the last. It's a strong orgasm. The strongest he has ever had… and yet it is so little. He wants one more time…maybe two. One climax is not enough for him. However, the situation will not allow him another round.

Both men are on the verge of strength. They breathe deeply. Tommy adjusts his pants while Desmond wipes his face and tries to get up. Tommy helps him back to his feet. He wants to kiss him. Desmond pulls away.

"The rules still apply. No kissin‘. No date. No feelings. We should go…"

"Ya and your fuckin‘ rules…"

"I am protectin‘ both of us. And our families. Or do you want to end up with a rope around your neck in Archie's mine?"

"Archie is no longer a big threat. His fuckin‘ son, however. Ya're afraid of him."

"He is a good boy. He's not like Archie. He's on our side. It will be better. But he's still a boy…"

"As long as he's got a that old fuck behind his ass and he's still walkin‘, he'll never let him take his place."

"It won't be long before…damn it…my ass hurts…I'll be in pain tomorrow…I'll probably ask to be put on the saw..."

"Ya and your painful ass. Come on, let's go for beer. "

"But only one! Not eight, like the last… "

The door closes. There is silence.

Evan hears his own breath.

He feels confused, disgusted, satisfied.

He doesn't know what to think. He doesn't know what he will do next.

He knows their hiding place. He knows their needs. He knows their families. A few words… and he would destroy them. Their families, their relationships, their jobs. Their lives.

An intoxicating wave of power embraces him.

He is the strong one now.

He has the power over them both.

He won't do it. They are like family.

Desmond is the one he wants. But he will never have him like this. Not while my father is alive. Not while Tommy is between them. Not as long as he is considered as a boy…and not as a man. He will never have Desmond.

But he has power.

Break them and control them…the desired power over a weak individual…. As he was taught…

One day I will get ya and take ya… Desmond… ya or your relative… If they are like ya…

Chapter Text

Everything bad is good for something. Each injury made him stronger. Every pain becomes his part and then the body hardens. Or every pain will pass once. In time.

Maybe days had passed since Dwight had been lulled by tender kisses and touches to a lovely sleep. As if he woke up in real time and in the world. He felt no pain. He was not hungry. He didn't feel anything wrong. He could feel the warmth of his body, he could smell the pleasant smell of wood.

When he felt his glasses near by him, he felt safe. But he was alone in an unknown room. He was only unknown for a moment when light and color spilled inside.

Dwight stretched. His sleeves were long, his shirt falling from his shoulders. He either lost extremely weight or had a stranger's big shirt. Soft, large, loose sleeves, unbuttoned, light green. He liked it. But what he didn't like was the bare lower body.

He was wearing nothing but a large shirt that served as a robe. Confusingly, he buttoned it…wrong, covering his torso and part of his thighs.

A strange feeling of loneliness awoke in him. He suspected that he wasn‘t alone under the blanket until now. It was far too warm for that. But there was no other suitable heat source in the small room.

Then he finally felt it.

Anxiety.

Uncertainty.

Panic.

No. I don't want to be alone anymore.

He got out of bed and slipped into the soft slippers prepared just for him. Now he wasn't interested in bare legs or the absence of underwear.

He felt the need to be in the presence of someone. And he set out to find him. He was more careful down the stairs, his gaze was not sharp enough and his senses were not sharp neither. With each step he took, his heart pounded more and more out of sheer anticipation.

When he saw the person he longed for, a wide smile curled on his face.

"Finally up?"

He sounded excited. He still looked like that.

A smile on his face, his hands open into an embrace. Welcoming him.

He tightly ties him together. He feels safe. He feels happy.

"I had dreams…"

"Have ya seen anyone?"

"Nurse… laughed at me. With me. She was treating me kindly."

"Did she touch ya?"

The grip tightened. The pain spread from his arms. He was literally crushing him.

"N-Not even… she was just there and-"

"Are ya dreamin‘ of someone else?"

"N-No… y-you were there-"

"How dare ya…"

He looked up. Fear engulfed him. He… his eyes… like a predator. His face is full of anger.

"How dare ya dream of anyone but me! Dirt. Maggots under my feet, deep in the dirt…"

"I-It was just a dream… i-it wasn't real…"

But the fear and horror on his face. The anger in his eyes.

The wounded pride.

"Ya only have to have me in your head. Ya don't need anythin‘ or anyone else! Those faces of others have nothin‘ to do there!"

"I-I don't think of them. They mean nothing to me! I can't control my dreams."

"Your mind, your body…your life belongs to me! I chose ya and pulled ya out of that endless nightmare full of blood and death. I did everythin‘ to make ya feel good. Your life is in my hands. I'll decide what to do with it. There is no place for maggots in your life! Only I have a place. On the throne!"

He felt tears in his eyes. His arms and legs were shaking. His voice was losing strength. He couldn't utter a voice, let alone a word.

All his words were true.

He needed him.

His protector.

His a savior.

His master.

Although he longed too much to be equal then.

They will never be equal. In power. In the options. In position.

Dwight is the weak, vulnerable, obedient.

He is strong, unyielding, unpredictable… but he listens and fulfills…dreams.

"Ya know I'm right. Smile at me. Show me what belongs to me…"

Even with the tears in his eyes, he smiled. He smiled broadly, but his whole body trembled with uncertainty. He remained in a tight grip for a long time, until he smiled.

Those scary fangs.

The winning look.

"I will banish all unwanted thoughts and ideas from your head, from your dreams. I will fill them with me. Take off that rag. I'll take ya right here."

He couldn't refuse. He couldn't say anything but…

"Blood?"

His whole naked body was covered in blood. His own blood. Red warm blood dripped from his left shoulder.

"Wounded animal …one hit and back on t‘ hook."

.

.

.

"PLEASE NO MORE!"

Dwight fell out of bed with a shout. It was more of a painful than noisy. He hit his shoulder. The pain was short-lived, but he couldn't get up. Not because of the pain…because of the shock he suffered from such a vivid nightmare that shook his whole body and mind.

It was as if the whole thing was happening. Sometimes. Like a living memory.

He went to bed. He curled up in a ball on the cold ground and sobbed softly.

He needed a hug. He needed to be comforted. He needed a few gentle words.

It was unknown over time and he was still alone.

When the tears dried on his face, he got up carefully and returned to bed. He hid under a blanket and tears began to run down his face again.

Where's Evan when I need him?

He looked exhausted at the ceiling, then at the other walls. They have lost color. Dark and old. No light.

Evan was gone. In trial. Otherwise, the walls would have their original normal color.

Hah… so shower will help me ...

He still had his towel on the sink. If his shoulder still didn't hurt from falling out of bed, he might have fallen asleep in a tub full of hot water and bubbles.

He couldn't find any of his clothes. The only thing he could wear was Evan's large light green shirt. The size was more like a robe, partially covering his thighs.

He was naked…and at the same time he was not… like in a dream…

He felt hungry and craving something sour. He went down to the kitchen. The fire crackled in the stove, but it was not very strong. Dwight added two logs and fanned the coals.

There was nothing to eat. Just water. Cold in a jug, hot on the stove.

He was grateful for that as well.

Water was clean and cold. He found a tin box of tea on the shelf. He smelled at him. A mixture of herbs and berries. Best times were alredy over for it, but it could taste at least normal. Just few dishes were here. Small family. Three, maybe four members.

Dwight took two cups. One was cracked, probably glued. The other had a torn ear. He wasn't sure if both cups would survive boiling water with questionable tea.

They both held together. Thank God.

Dwight pulled on the mug without an ear and began to blow into it. He couldn't hold it in his hands. Porcelain literally burned.

The heat hugged him from all the tents. A sudden gust of cold wind moved his body, moved the glasses on his nose, and cooled the tea. From hot to pleasantly warm. Dwight had to adjust his glasses to see the change.

Several fruits appeared on the table. Two pieces from each known fruit. And two bars of chocolate. It didn't look like a healthy full lunch or dinner. What to do with this?

The only thing that could work together, even in such a gloomy state, were chocolate fondues. What better combination than sweet and sour with dark chocolate. The Entity apparently had a sense of humor or creativity.

There was nothing wrong with that. Evan liked sweet. At least he said it himself. He was able to eat half an apple pie, like nothing. Pile of sweet fruit dipped in chocolate…

That's what lovers eats…or playful lovers. Are you trying to tell me something?!

Dwight looked around desperately. No sign of Entity's ridicule. He sighed. He had no idea when Evan left…on the other hand, time was irrelevant. The minute lasted like an hour and a second at the same time. Thinking of time as something essential was meaningless.

Dwight was not a fan of sweet fruit… In general, fruit was not his regular source of nutrients. Money and lack of time didn‘t allow him to find the taste and time for a better and healthier food than cheap and unhealthy products. Maybe that's why his health wasn't the best and the overall mental strain was more than hell.

Would anything change… if he returned suddenly? Would the world still be the same? People around him… the same? He would meet someone…

Impossible. 1971…maybe my granfather.

I can't get out of here anyway. The Entity won't let us leave its playground… but why did it give me up and put me in… his hands? Was I so useless?

The depth of his depression and the sweet-bitter smell of melted chocolate drowned out the master's arrival. As usual… the colors and light went back.

"Finally awake? How do ya feel?"

Dwight swallowed uncertainly when he heard familiar words from an even more familiar voice.

"N-Nothing hurts anymore. Emmmm…"

He approached the bloody killer. Blood was still dripping from his cleaver. His whole body, except the mask, was soaked in blood.

“H-How did it go? I-I mean…trial."

Em. Do you realize you're naked?

"Two escaped, two sacrificed. They were annoying…maggots. My eyes hurt from their toys…"

Maggots…

Evan was still talking, and Dwight tried to break free from the horrible nightmare that still resounded in his ears.

"But your clothes are very… distractin‘…any plans, hmm?"

He didn't touch him this time. He knew he had bloody hands…he didn't want to leave another bloody imprint on him…though he wanted too much.

"I-I-I have three… s-suggestions…right now…"

"And these are?"

What an irony. Evan listened with an innocent, almost childish smile on his face, still covered in blood and pain from innocent survivors. It was hard to resist his face… but again, it was hard to take a step back in how awful his attitude was.

"A-A-A-A…d-do you want… first… food… o-or bath…or…"

"Or?"

Swallow your pride and start playing according to your rules. Stop being afraid…

"D-Dedicate your time…m-me."

That was the moment. The last nail in the coffin of shame and disgrace. You have reached the absolute bottom. Congratulations!

Dwight rubbed his long shirt and pulled it down more and more. By shame he tried to cover his exposed thighs and knees. As if it could save him from Evan's hungry smile. Maybe even hungry eager saliva escaped his mouth.

"Do I have to choose? I want all three options…at once."

It was an even worse scenario than Dwight had imagined. He needed touch, tenderness and smell…he needed to feel safe. All this could have been given to him quite easily…

He was ready, or so he thought.

"At the same time? B-Bath… F-food… a-a-a-a…"

"Yourself…if ya agree,"

He is still uncertain. Just like me. Fascinating. A killer who drowns daily in streams of blood, grief, and cries of pain. A hunter who traps his victims… and still worries… about me… why my chest hurts?

Dwight's face flushed and he bit his lip. He wanted it. Even in his most perverse dream, he didn‘t achieve the idea Evan had suggested. Hot water, decent body touches, and food. He began to feel hot under his shirt.

"W-Well… I've never… n-nothing like… d-did… m-maybe I won't ruin it. Heh."

"It will be fine. Give me a few minutes, then come upstairs and get somethin‘ small to eat."

As Evan walked past him, the blood of sweat and rust literally punching him in the nose, Dwight ventured to another step. He grabbed Evan's wrist and forced him to stop. He didn't make a sound, but he didn't lose his smile.

"I-I forgot something… c-can you please… a-a little lower?"

Evan leaned forward. His face was full of curiosity, while Dwight's was full of nervousness. But he wanted to do it. The next step to a happy life. One small thing.

"Welcome back home."

He took the scarred face in his hands and stroked his distinctive cheeks with his thumb.

He kissed him.

Welcome kiss. As you wished. So that he always has something to look forward to, whatever enters home. Warmth, safety… him.

It didn't stay with one kiss. Although pleasantly surprised, Evan didn‘t intend to break away from the delicate wet lips. But he had to be careful about touch. The blood on his body and hands was still fresh. He didn't want to blur… but at the same time he wanted to wrap him up and not let him go.

And suddenly… Dwight had the power.

Power to control the killer. At least for a while.

"Go upstairs, wash off all the dirt and I'll be there in a moment, please. If you have any bubble soap… it would be nice… at least I won't be so exposed…"

"Exposed? Be one...for me. Ya're teasin‘ me here in my shirt. A few soap bubbles won't hide your handsome legs. Don't make me wait lon‘… "

If Dwight wasn't hot before, he was on fire now. He didn't recover until Evan went up the stairs. He shifted when he heard running water.

W-What have I done? This is bad a script for porn… very bad porn… disgusting… exciting… hah…

He patted his flushed face to mask at least a little of his growing shame. Then he took his face in his hands.

What are you ashamed of? He has already seen you naked. Crippled. In a pool of blood. On the verge of death… why should I feel ashamed?

But he will be naked. Like… completely. I will see him… his jewels.

Dwight chuckled like a horny schoolgirl and pulled his shirt even further down his crotch. Exciting tension spread in his veins. Weird feeling. Desire and power…

Naked… finally. Such a strong body. Big hands. Sharp look. A warm smile. Just mine. Just for me.

He felt the excitement. Mysterious desire and perversion engulfed his mind as well as his body. A word would be enough and he would give him everything.

"Dwight."

He imagined Evan's voice. So close to him. Sighing his name.

A-a-a-a-aha! It's time to go. I don't have to keep him waiting long.

He grabbed a bowl of fruit and ran up the stairs. He stopped in front of the door. He tried to calm his troubled mind, his growing appetite, and his half-hard cock. How little was enough to awaken vices unknown to him?

Need… need to be owned… so close.

Dwight swallowed the perverted saliva and knocked on the door. The shower could not be heard.

"M-May I? I-I don't have much… Entity didn‘t-"

He entered the bathroom full of steam and soap bubbles.

"Finally…come to me."

A massive body partly hidden under hot water and a pile of soap bubbles. Only his arms, shoulders, and feet rose from a pile of bubbles.

Dwight almost dropped the fruit bowl when he felt saliva escaping from his lip. His legs began to shake. He looked away as blood rose to his face and crotch. The words didn‘t come to his tongue. He couldn't look up. So many coveted ideas took place at once. He didn‘t believe that everything really happened. The last pinch of courage helped him approach the sink, where he placed a porcelain bowl. His hands shook sharply.

He felt the look. That hungry dangerous look. And yet he could not move. Evan moved. He grabbed his loose shirt. He pulled him to the edge of the tub. His thighs touched the edges. Dwight still kept his eyes out.

He couldn't look. He wanted so badly.

"Did I tell ya how beautiful legs ya have?"

"I-I don't know…I-I guess so heh. N-Normal… a-ah."

It was ironic that the size of his thighs and Evan's hand was almost the same. That could mean several things that Dwight couldn't think of, because Evan had touched him in all the sensitive places.

Like a thigh. Really, great, where you don't have a sensitive place, you....

"As if I needed somethin‘ extra. I like normal… just ya… take it off and join me. The water ain‘t warm forever."

He tugged at his shirt like a child, and still as an adult curious and carefully touched Dwight's thighs. He was curious, playful. Like a child. And yet he was unsure where he could. And he was so close to his buttocks.

“W-W-Wait…It's… A too… a-a-a-and what about my bandages? I should…"

"Ya don't have any. You overslept a few trial."

"Ha?"

As he tried to check his bandages, Evan's dirty fingers groped at the wrong buttons and literally torn them apart. Dwight stopped him at the last button. He panicked.

"Ya will either go to the water with or without it. I don‘t care. It's still mine. Come voluntarily or I'll withdraw ya…which I wouldn't like."

He really could. He had the strength to do it. Opportunity too. If he wanted, he wouldn't wait for anything. He would take everything he wanted. From day one. He could… and was very close. He would take a step and would literally take it. Hard… why would he wait?

And yet he waited… and asked. And he listened. And he stared. He didn't know what to do himself, and that was exactly what made Dwight's heart pound so hard. Someone…no matter who, with what past, reputation and appearance, but above all someone cared for him. He wanted him because he was Dwight. Just… Dwight… nothing extra.

"S-So don't look…"

"Ya want to sleep with me, but are ya ashamed that I see ya naked? What do ya have I don't?" And how many times had he seen him naked? In all its simplicity? So many times it wasn't even healthy. And if Dwight knew about it.

How many nights filled only by candlelight… Evan sat next to him. He watched him. He stared at him. When Dwight was in full sleep.

Maybe he touched him decently. On hands. On the face. On chest. On the belly. Careful not to wake him.

Every movement of his body. He drew every single detail. He remembered. Every scar…

Pfff… why it sounds so childishly funny… and at the same time true.

"Do it…please, for me."

"Tsk…"

He didn't want to, but he did. Evan looked away as he bit his lip in defeat. Dwight dropped his shirt from his shoulders and dipped his hand into the water. It was hot and full of soap. He swallowed as he imagined the monster waiting for him at the bottom.

He took a deep breath. He stepped carefully on one foot, then on the other, still looking at Evan, who was forced not to look. And he still wasn't looking, just instinctively grabbing Dwight's wrist.

So he doesn't run away? So that he doesn't fall? So he wouldn't do something stupid?

Dwight sat down in the hot water and pulled up a mound of foam to his chest. He didn't want to reveal his scarred, unmanly chest yet. He felt Evan pull him together, which might have been better. Dwight leaned his back against Evan‘s massive chest, trying hard to forget that he was close to the jewels.

"I guess you can now…"

"Such a fuss for nothin‘. And the glasses?"

"I need to see…I feel safe-"

Evan‘s hands gripped him like a trap. Snake-like legs wrapped around his legs.

Like trapped.

"Ya are safe here. Ya should start trustin‘ me if ya want the same thing I do."

"Hmmm…w-what do I want? W-What do you want?"

Wrong question. But for whom?

Evan laughed softly but menacingly. Dwight shuddered in his clutches.

"I just want to flood your mind with a thought about me and myself only. I want your life to depend only on me. I want your virginity ya promised me. I want to be important and exceptional to someone, finally in my life…" Dwight blushed when he heard each confession that coincided with his own. "And ya want the same as me. Don't be ashamed of who ya are. Not in front of me. Don't hide from me. Do ya understand me?"

Very well. Dwight didn't have to answer with words. He touched Evan's face and pulled his face close. All he had to do was smile and closing his eyes.

And one small kiss that endured a long wet dance of two men who wanted each other. And they were ashamed of it.

Chapter Text

Water was warm. Foam thick and soap bubbles increased. However, the atmosphere was rather denser. They didn‘t fill the tension, but ignorance and… embarrassment.

What to do at this moment? How to start a sensible conversation…aboutwhat? Where to touch? And they were very close. Dwight‘s whole back rested on Evan‘s chest. He felt small as well. What more. One of Evan's arms was like Dwight's two, and it still wouldn't be enough.

And yet. He was like in a trap from which he couldn‘t escape…like from any, but now he wasn‘t in danger. On the contrary, he was in the most sheltered environment he could wish for. An area full of traps, perhaps under windows and doors and in the arms of a monster.

A monster with a human face…who longed for love…and to be loved.

And so much has been said. There was still a lot of lack of considering each other as one's prisoner. What did he know about him?

Where to place the trap, how to take care of them. He had a large fortune, a lot of estate, industrial industry, a century completely out and… sweet tooth…

Nothing compared to what he expected. And what did Evan actually know about Dwight? Even less. He didn't ask anything…maybe occasionally, but never about him. How to change it?

"So...well…s-shall we talk?" Dwight shivered slightly as he felt Evan's fingers flip with his underwater.

"About what? Is it necessary?" He didn't sound enthusiastic, but he wasn't upset. Good sign. Maybe tired.

"Of course it is. T-The right relationship should be based on communication with each other. Interplay and trust and understanding." He stirred the water with a commotion, and a little escaped over the edge. Maybe too much. Evan looked more than confused.

"Ya said ya had no experience…how do ya know what a relationship should look like? Hmm?" The voice went down slowly, as did his free hand. Slowly down to his thigh…

Dwight flicked quickly and turned to face Evan. He sat on his knees and put his hands on Evan‘s shoulders. He was paying close attention to the steel sticking out of his shoulder… how did it get there?

"I-It's that…that…that…" the longer he looked into those green eyes, the faster he lost his words. Words were lost on his tongue. Strange how little was enough to lose everything he thought or wanted to say.

I can't do it… I…

"What is it, Dwight?"

Both of his large hands slid down his back from top to bottom, leaving goosebumps. The water didn‘t stop them, they touched his buttocks. They gripped him. Dwight gasped as he hurriedly tried to keep his balance. However, their foreheads and noses had already touched.

B-breath! Breathe! You can do it! You can do it!

"A-A-A-A… so I im-" He took Evan's wet face in his hands and directed his hungry but warm gaze. "So I imagine it this way…y-you do want me to trust you, don‘t you? My bodyguard, protector and… l-lover… but I want the same from you to be for..you…d-do you know what I mean?"

It's like a bad movie for adventurers on the hunt for passionate love. God, why me again…

"Hmm…I'm a killer, Dwight. I hunted ya and other lads… I'm stronger than ya…but ya can take care of me. Ya have to take care of me… pamper me, make me happy, love me… that's what I want… that's what ya want from me." How could a killer be able to manipulate words like this alone? A few good words, with a subtle accent, an even more delicate voice…but with indiscriminate touches.

"B-But I want to know you m-more. Not like a killer who enjoys looking at trapped prey in his trap… I want to know..."

"Who do you want to know better than myself, eh?"

Name… wants to know the name… you know him… you saw the name… remember…

So close… their lips. One of them was smiling, the other was uncertain. Both lips were trembling with excitement. And the water began to cool, just for a moment. Then it began to boil… with desire.

“Evan… MacMillan… is the name of a man I want to know like no other before… will you let me know him? W-Will you give me your trust? The one you ask of me?"

An imaginary burst of bubbles filled a small bathroom. Too suffocating silence filled the room.

Evan had to talk. Now or bury everything he's tried so far… deep in his basement… it might be crowded there.

"I did some very bad things… before I ended up here… I don't know… whether it won't be much…"

"Have you killed three, five, twenty people before? I will use my great imagination…"

"138 men… one blast…trapped. Left in mine. No way to escape."

Without. Push. Don't show fear. Trust him.

"Will you kill me too?"

"If I wanted to, ya're long dead. Why would I bother with all this if I didn't want ya here?"

"Because I'm nothing. Only meat to kick… just to laugh at everyone…"

"Shitbag! Four-eye! Dickhead! Bastard! Asshole! Faggot! Go kill yourself, you dirt. Nobody cares. That your mother didn't get rid of you the first day, she clapped like that!"

"Give me your trust and I will give you mine… no lies and no secrets. Question by question. We don't have to immediately…we can go slowly…"

"How long are ya willin‘ to wait?"

"As long as you keep me alive, pamper me, protect me, love me…only me. You will not build a house from the roof… the base must be first…"

That sounds so clever. Too bad you're dumb as a stick in the woods.

"Deal then?"

"Probably… may be modified over time…"

Together they slid below the now lukewarm water. They couldn't breathe and their lips were already connected. Just for a few long seconds that were like minutes.

They both gasped as they emerged sharply together. Evan laughed, Dwight spitting water. And the atmosphere relaxed.

"Fine, time for food. What did ya bring?"

And where did the tension go? And was the water always so warm?

Dwight literally had to take off his now bulletproof glasses. Traces of drops remained, even as he shook them. He had no choice, but to wear them.

"Well, as I said. The Entity was not very generous, but rather humorous."

"What? Did it gives ya chewing tobacco?"

Is that what you want?

Dwight smiled at the idea of chewing tobacco. He got to his knees and put his hands over Evan's head. However, this brought him into such close contact that he barely noticed. If he had a more pronounced chest, he would feel himself pressing his impossible chest against Evan's face.

And he didn't protest.

He also found some fun.

Small… kisses. A giggle.

"No, a pile of fruit - what are you doing?"

"It tickles. That's cute. Ya have some hair here."

"D-Don't make fun of me… I'm still a man… a-at least I hope…" Shame ran to his face. He panicked when Evan wasn't about to apologize to his bare chest. Yes, he was not endowed with a man's chest…but no one in the family. At least not father. "D-Don't embarrass me…"

"Do ya feel embarrassed when I say somethin‘ is cute about ya?" He pressed his ear to the left. He listened to his heart rate.

"Well, no one ever told me that…just the opposite…and still, man is not suppose to be cute…I-I think…" He whispered the last words, his free bare head to Evan's wet bare head. He wondered if he had ever had hair. "You wanted food here."

Evan looked up and stared at the strange-looking food.

"Em… what is it?"

"Fruit. I got strawberries, pineapple, grapes, lemon, orange… what are you looking at? You never had that?" Dwight sounded amused at Evan's disbelief in the unknown…

"Well… I know what an apple is… otherwise I never…"

Oh… so it is…

"Cute… a-a-a-a ah hahaha! P-Sorry… as serious? You never?"

Evan didn't pretend to be kidding. He meant it deadly. And Dwight was more than amused and surprised at the same time.

How is it possible that someone does not know the fruit? How about we play? Just a little bit…

"So what about… this! This is a grape. It is sweet and can be in two colors, dark is sweeter, green-yellow is sour. It turned into an alcoholic beverage… "

Dwight took one bunch of grapes and immediately put it in his mouth. He then took another. He offered it to Evan. He hesitated for a moment.

"It's sweet and seedless. Don't worry." Dwight smiled as he placed a small grape on Evan's quivering lips. Then he let a small bunch slide inside. Evan hesitated what he could compare it to. It was a strange sweet taste. A new taste that was not similar to the only one he had tasted in his life. "I can give you one more in dark chocolate, but I don't want to spoil your taste…don't look at me like that. It’s was Entity…"

"B-But ya too…"

"So we're in this together?" He smiled and enjoyed the bitter-sweet fireworks on his tongue, while Evan lost his composure as a child in composing puzzles. "Which one is better?"

"Probably…both?"

"All right, let’s try this. Do you know what it is?"

Evan blinked twice. He knew this fruit, but smaller.

"We have such a smaller one in the garden… very small… straw-berry?

"Yep. The little ones are just a different kind. They taste the same… ”And Dwight paused. “D-Don't you have an allergy? A lot of people have it… "

"And that's what again?"

I don't believe he was so stupid…maybe just ignorant…did he went to school at all?

"You are rubbing your face and skin. In the worst case, your tongue may swell and suffocate you… have you ever eaten strawberries?"

"When my father wasn't lookin‘…"

"Then you should be fine. Maybe the Entity won't let you die of allergies… "

So you had a father? Who was he?

"Tsk, like even. Rin was supposed to be dead, a pretty lively and noisy girl…that the Entity herself was holding her together."

Who is Rin again? I should write those questions… haaaaah.

"Huh?" More than half the strawberry was gone before he could change his mind. Like the jaws of a predator. Silent and deadly. At one point he was glad it was taken away by a strawberry and not by his hand or… anything else… "Is it good?"

Evan didn't say anything for a long minute. He focused on the familiar taste that forced him to look into the past. When a little boy secretly broke into his mother's garden, he hid among the tall bushes and secretly picked small red berries into his green cup and hid the cup under a pile of wood. And when it was full, he took it to his room and secretly indulged in sweet and sour fruit for several nights.

"Evan?"

"W-What?"

"Are you all right?" Dwight bit into a strawberry with chocolate as he watched Evan's controlled panic. "Did that remind you anything?"

"H-How should it remind me anythin‘?!" He raised his voice, expressing growing nervousness.

"A memory, for example." Dwight didn't try to be on top of the situation. On the contrary, he dare and perhaps even wanted to understand. He tried to help those memories more to the surface. He immediately put a smaller strawberry to Evan‘s lips. He got caught. Confused, Evan immediately bit into another strawberry and chewed quickly. To keep Evan from panicking too much, Dwight took the lead. "It is natural that some foods evoke childhood memories in us. It's usually something sweet. Do you want to know what my sweet childhood memory is?"

Soooo. Start a conversation. Make him ask.

And Evan waited. He probably wanted to know the answer, but Dwight didn't let him get the answer so easily. Arouse curiosity and gasp for an effort to communicate. And Evan became impatient. He didn't get an answer right away, so he tried to get it with a sharp kiss, which Dwight expected with the greatest pleasure. He didn't realize that Evan's fangs were biting into his lips. With the remnants of strawberry and chocolate, he felt a rush of iron aftertaste that was all too familiar.

Dwight chuckled as he pulled away from Evan's hungry lips, longing for an answer he didn't want to give him for free. Although it was far too simple and practically useless.

"You have to ask. Otherwise I won't talk to you and we are on the dead end…again. Talk to me. It's not that hard." Dwight tried not to burst out laughing.

"Em…t-tell me, what will evoke memories from childhood in you?"

It's not that hard, is it? Mainly that I have no problem squeezing a reasonable sentence out of myself.

For a job well done, Evan received a banana wheel as a reward. As a little child. Thanks again… but he has it in this whole bubble procedure.

"Hot chocolate with heated caramel and cinnamon… sugar bomb I know…"

"You to-…"

Dwight was taken aback by Evan's reaction. But before he could ask, Evan hid under the water. It was a really childish way to hide my emotions. But Dwight would do exactly the same. Hide and eat in your inability.

He's been underwater for a long time. Dwight began to worry that Evan hadn't fallen asleep underwater or hit his head and was unconscious. He set the bowl down and dipped his hand under the water. As soon as he touched Evan's face, he immediately found himself in a strong embrace, Evan's wet face hidden in his wild hair.

"Were ya worried about me?"

"Of course! You disappeared so fast! I-I didn't know if you hurt yourself or -" Dwight's eyesight immediately deteriorated. His glasses were taken straight from his eyes, and slow reflexes didn't help him catch them. "H-Hey, my glasses!"

"These are weird glasses…why do ya have that frame around them?" Oh, like a big child. He wanted to play again. Take Dwight's full attention and defenselessness into your own hands. "How far do ya see without them? Damn, I don't see anythin‘ through it, are ya a bat?"

Dwight broke free and squinted around the room. He tried to feel Evan's face with his hands. Touched… glasses…

"Yes, I'm blind. I have to wear glasses sice I was four years old. 3.5 diopters on the left eye, 4 diopters on the right eye. " He would like to see Evan with glasses. He could look good. Every man who caught his eye and wore glasses had one small plus. He had the same weakness.

Evan didn't have a weakness… or didn't know about it yet…

"Even though I'm so close? Can't ya see me?"

He could feel his breath, felt their noses touch. He knew he was very close, and yet he couldn't see sharply.

"It's blurry…"

 "And now?"

"I recognize the color of your eyes… maybe…" He was close to both his glasses and his lips. He touched Evan’s face with the thumbs, following the deep scar through them. The plan was simple, employ your hands and get glasses. But apparently he underestimated the mind of a real predator.

"So without these little things, you're defenseless. Completely no chance of survival. Close the room and take the glasses. Unable to escape. Waitin‘ and hopin‘ only for me."

He shuddered. It was more than true. He was already weak, and still without glasses? Completely useless.

"Don't move." Evan stood up abruptly, leaving blind Dwight in the tub, which had lost half of its level due to its weight. Suddenly, Dwight regretted not being able to see that gem. At the same time, he thanked, because he would be overwhelmed again with shame.

"D-Don't leave me here…"

"Get up. Slowly. Raise your hands a little."

Dwight was unsure of the incipient action, but in the lukewarm water from which all the bubbles and foam had disappeared, nothing held him back. He clung to the edges and walls, instinctively covering up his little bit hairy crotch. Then he felt a strange substance on his chest, perhaps a towel.

"I will take care of ya. I'll give ya your glasses in mine room."

There was no value in negotiating. This was Evan's idea…but this one wasn't in vain. Except for his rough movements. Pampering was not his forte - generally tenderness was the real issue. But he tried.

Every spot on Dwight's body…every one, even the delicate one, Evan had dried up perfectly, perhaps a little harsh, thanks to his very predatory movements. Under each touch, Dwight tried not to shiver in the desire to taste more than touches over a towel. Maybe that…

"I can't forgive you in which clothes ya welcomed me…take it."

He got something soft and green in his hands. The only thing he remembered was Evan's used shirt, which he used as a long robe. Dwight couldn't even button it on because he was in his firm arms in second, even his legs still wet.

"C-Careful, the floor is still wet and- where to- ah!"

It was not a gentle landing, but he landed in bed in a small room. Then he noticed that Evan had placed something on the table. It didn't make much sound, so something light.

"Yeah, and about the impossibility of runnin‘ away — it wasn't a lie, but I won't leave ya alone." His massive body made Dwight lay on his back. His arms and legs were open.

Oh, and his massive and big body still wet and…naked.

What?!

Everything was happening too fast, and Dwight could barely see what was happening. Then he felt gentle kisses on his neck…

Chapter Text

If he only knew that all the prelude was aimed at the final completion of all efforts…he would care more about himself. He didn't feel dirty or unprepared…well, they were both very unprepared. However, he didn‘t want to admit that the beautiful moment he had been preparing himself for several years ahead would disappear before his eyes just like the snapping of his fingers.

Wasn't it too early?

Just the idea that he should indulge in the unbalanced power between them. Not the force that didn't allow him to move, because he was literally lying on him.

The mental power that made him unequal. Someone less valuable. Only meat to use. That's not how it should be. And he didn't just want to be a thing.

"Evan, please stop."

The body was hungry for dominance. To be pampered and held in a tight grip. However, the mind wanted to be free, equal…

"I-Is it too f-fast?" Evan did stop all his movements. He raised his head slowly and looked into Dwight's trembling eyes. The incipient tears in the corners of his eyes could not be overlooked. "I-I didn't want to-"

"Do you have the towel near to hand? I want to show you something…" They sat down together. As Evan bent over the towel thrown in front of the chair, Dwight bit his lip to prevent himself from seeing, albeit dimly, the clear, rock build of his companion.

Yephe felt him it as he was overwhelmed by his massive body. But Evan must have noticed Dwight's erection too. He was so transparent.

"What do ya want to do with it?" Evan placed a damp towel uncertainly on Dwight's lap. He wasn't sure if he wanted his glasses back.

"You know, I like strong men. Really much… but… you… should…"

It will not be a request - it will be an order. He won't listen to me.

"Try to be more gentle. I'm not a stone. I feel good when you hold me tight…but I'm just weak and I can't stand much. I get bruises from every strong pressure. Sit on the edge, I'll show you something…"

Nothing happened. No movement, no sound.

"Please. Do it for me…"

Evan sighed loudly, but when he remembered their underwater deal, he shook his head and sat on the edge of the bed at the request of the half-blind young man. He didn‘t expect anything, at the same time he was afraid of everything. Turning your back on someone was dangerous. And he had a weapon…something resembling a weapon. But he didn't have the strength…

Dwight was again uncertain in his position. View of broad shoulders. More frightening, however, was the steel pointing from one end of the arm through the shoulder. Not one, but three. How did they get there?

"Lift your head." He touched Evan's face with a towel. Under the cheeks, carefully around the eyes, forehead, chin and slowly around the neck towards the chest. "This way, your skin won't be red and irritated. If I pushed or… as you did, my every touch would be uncomfortable. Do you feel good?"

"Hmmm. Yes, I do… "

"The face, arms and legs are sensitive to more pressure… so, at least that's true for me… on the chest… you can press decently. A little."

Suddenly he had power in his hands again. He circled the towel slowly over his scarred chest, watching for the sticking steel in Evan‘s right shoulder. Dwight took advantage of the moment. To get lower, he sat down directly behind Evan, slid his legs along his, pressed his chest to his back, and placed his chin on his healthy shoulder. Near Evan's neck, near Evan's ear. Dwight began to whisper.

"See? You don't have to be rough to show me how strong you are. I know how strong you are… and I will never be like that… but I am small and weak. Use all your anger, hatred, pain… that you have and use it in trial. That's why you're the most feared killer…that's why we're all afraid of you. You are the embodiment of fear and pain…like your traps…but here…home…just for me-"

He circled gently with a towel around his lower abdomen, his lips carefully examining every part of his exposed and trembling neck. Slowly, after each word.

"Here at home?" Evan breathed softly as he felt the delicate lips examine the folds of his neck and the movement so close to an hungry erection. Too much close.

"You are mine, Evan. The guy who comes home from work, gets food, takes a bath and gives me…just me…all the tenderness you can imagine…"

He kissed his ear, then his cheek. Several times he inadvertently touched what required maximum attention. Dwight regretted and thanked for not wearing glasses. With joy and shyness alone, he might even eager saliva escape…maybe.

He was too close now. And the imagination was more than enticing. And the situation…in his hands…

"Do you like the way I talk to you? Who are you for me? Who do you want to be, Evan? Just for me. Will you tell me? Like a little secret between us. Trust me and I will reward you. Please…"

Dwight chose his words carefully. So as not to humiliate himself and awake in Evan… something… he may never have known. Or he was denied it. Violently.

"Make me c-cum… and I'll tell you… anything…"

"Tempting…"

He took him in his hand. Good God, how hard and big he was. Dwight swallowed, closed his eyes, and sank deeper into Evan's neck, squeezing his erection hard. Evan winced slightly under his grip. He was breathing fast but quietly. He gripped the mattress tightly, keeping his head tilted so that Dwight had the best access to sensitive areas on his neck.

He moved up and down in same pace. A damp towel has become an excellent tool. Not only for smoother and more precise movements, but also as a confusion for Dwight's imagination.

It must be big. I can feel him. My hand is not enough. Good God… what if when…inside me…

Evan's body began to shake. Dwight instinctively bit the spot under his ear and tightened his grip. He sped up to get closer to the information he wanted and Evan's came.

It was amazing. To finally have such power. Have something firmly in your hand and at the same time in your hand…

"Mmmmmm… hah… hah…"

Has he already done? Why is he not shaking?

Evan took a deep breath, every breath thorough. But Dwight didn't seem him as exhausted as every man should be. After climax… or Dwight thought wrong. Maybe only he was always exhausted that he had almost fallen asleep by it.

The towel was wet all the way through. As Dwight tried to catch all the semen, then rolled it up and laid it on the floor. Evan persevered in his position for a brief moment before finally turning around. He lunged at Dwight. In an instant, Dwight found himself under the heavy weight of his massive body again, now without a chance. He attacked his dry lips, slipping his wet tongue into his mouth. Dwight didn't stand a chance to resist.

But nothing happened.

"Huh? E-Evan… "

"Amazin‘… amazin‘…I want even more, but… what about ya?"

"I? I…"

"I…wanted it first from ya, but…ya did this for me…and…it was…mindblowin‘."

Dwight was over the moon. His cheeks turned red when Evan looked into his eyes. There was no single spot of tiredness on him. But the pleasure on his face…

A satisfied man will do…anything. Even kill…much easy for him huh?

Before Dwight could open his mouth to say a word, Evan made his way through wet kissess from Dwight’s mouth over chest where he stayed quite a bit. His large hands weren’t that rough as before. Now, carefully he touched Dwight’s trembling muscles. He found his fun, again, on Dwight’s chest and with his few hair.

"Still…so cute. I can’t stop think about it…" Evan was like a child. Playing with something soft and tickling…Dwight felt so embarrassed. He knew how sweet and innocent that mind looked, but from grown man…

Dwight swallowed hard and dared to looked down. His eyes met Evan’s. He felt how his neck was getting tight.

I-Is he purring?!

Dwight was…enjoying every single touch on his marked body. He felt very hot durring Evan’s care on his almost bare chest. Then he cried sogrly when Evan squeezed his belly. Maybe he overheard that but…was Evan giggling?  Still it was kind roughty, but the feeling being cared, being loved.  

When Evan was right under his belly, just a few  millimeters…he felt his leaking erection touched Evan’s chin and also his warm breath. And he…wasn’t moving at all. Maye he was thinking or…he wasn’t sure what to do…

"D-Do you need…heh…my help?"

Their eyes met again. Now both of them…unsure of their doing. Evan didn’t want to admit how helpless he was at this moment. Knowing nothing what to do, how to do, but he wanted to do it so much. He promised it himself.

“The worst…the most disgustin‘ faggot I will be. Give me a chance and I will be absolute bottom…ya wanted me there, didn’t ya? I will be everythin‘ ya hated so much. I’ve always have been…just dirt under your feet…I will fuck any man, I let myself be fucked by man, I’ll suck any man, swallow them as deep as much I can, just to be even more hated by ya…ya promised ya will make met he strongest man…I will be the weakest…just…wait…there…and…look…father…“

"E-Evan, do you hear me? "

"I-I-I don’t…know…"

Dwight smiled softly and touched Evan’s face. "It’s so new…y-you don’t need to…i-it won’t be the best at first…"

"I have to…I need to do it…j-just s-say…w-w-what to do…" He was fighting with himself just to think about letting someone order him…once again. And Dwight saw his struggle. And he wanted to help him.

"I will help you, alright? No ordering, just…helping you."

Evan swallowed and nodded. Dwight then moved a bit, lied on his elbow for better view and  coordination.

"S-So then…t-t-take the skin down a-a-and lick it around. Just with tip of y-your tongue…"

This is so weird.This is so fucking weird…

Dwight’s embarrassment was hidden behind warm smile and trembling voice. Evan, on the other hand, was grateful for his help. Dwight’s advice was similiar to his imagination, but he followed Dwight…this time.

He took the skin down a bit, revealing dripping precum and sweet pink tip. He was…stunned just looking at it. He was never this close to someone. And he was so excited. When his trembling tongue touched, he closed his eyes and…with tip of his tongue tasted the strangly sweet liquid from even more trembling cock.

Dwight kept his eyes on Evan and his doing. Amazed by his work of his tongue, by the decent tingling feeling.

"C-Carefull on your shoulder…w-where you have the iron or…whatever…y-you c-can kiss it o-o-or move around it. E-Explore i-it…"

As he said that, Evan explored with his tongue all around his cock, making him shiver and moaning softly. Without any hint, Evan found a sensitve spot, right under the tip. Dwight couldn't bear that. He cried and lied down, breaking the eyes contact.

That was it. Evan smiled a bit a kept the preassure in that sensitive spot. He was very carefull not to touch him with his teeth. He somehow thought that teeth in this area is very, very painfull. If used incorrect.

Dwight was feeling absolute amazing. Licking his lips, moaning softly. The best in his life, to be fair. Such a overwhelming feeling around his cock. Now he lost all words. He let Evan do whatever he wanted. If that would cause him feel this good…gosh anything.

He’s just licking me…how it will be when he swall-

"Haaaah, E-Evan, what are-"

He screamed when, from nowhere, Evan took him into his mouth. Not whole, but part of him. His neck didn’t let him go more forward. Even that, the wet and hot all new place.

Evan moaned and tried to push deeper. Dwight calmed him down.

"D-D-Don’t rush…t-take your time ah-hah! S-Suck it…c-carefull on your teeth-ahhhh, Evan more! "

After those words…Evan’s mind exploided. He sucked the life Dwight and his lungs. He forced his neck to open, so he ended hurting his throat. He didn’t care. That wasn’t the pain. That was nothing. Anything for making Dwight scream his name this way.

"Louder-cough…scream my name louder-cough…let him hear ya- cough…"

Evan souded so desperate, but he kept hurting his throat so Dwight would literally cry his name and memorize this feelings only with him. With this pace, with this force, Dwight was very close to cum. Not simply like usual, explode. He wasn’t able to talk, not even think properly. Just one name was needed, one simple…

“Evan-aha-hmmm-hah-Evan…“

Before any warning, he scream as loud as possible, holding Evan’s head deep between his legs, tasting the beatiful wave of euphoria all over his body.

Then everything was blurry. More than without his glasses. He tried to calm his breathing, his body was trembling, ingnoring any touch. Before everything turned dark, he hear coughing and deep breathing. Licking and swalloning.

"Ghh…taste different than mine…need time to recover?"

"Uhum…few minutes. Hold me, please. "

Massive weight covered his body. Sweat, iron and cum mixed together wasn’t good, but…it was him. It was Evan. Dwight was safe, covered, warm, protected.

"Mine, gorgeous boy. Whisper my name once more…" Evan whisper into his ear. No chance to resist.

“Evan…please Evan…don’t leave me.“ Evan hugged him tightly, on the edge of breathability. But he didn’t mind. That much. A sinister smile arised on Evan’s face. Wide and wild. Better not see this smile in person. Someone would be terrified to death.

"I will make sure, ya won’t leave me."

Chapter Text

To wake up in someone's arms, to wake up feeling touches in hair. Things he had secretly dreamed of one day becoming a reality. To be loved for who he is, to be pampered and cared for…

He tickled his palm. He ran his fingertip from one side of his palm to the other, as if he was drawing. Dwight couldn‘t tell what was going on but it was cute. He smiled as the curious hand began to care about his fingers individually. He realized the size difference between them.

Evan's hands were large and calloused, full of old scars - hands of worker. Hard work was all over him…all over his body…and perhaps something deeper than hard work. The movements stopped when Evan noticed irregular but numerous bruises on both Dwight‘s palms and the back of his hand. Bruises ended behind the wrist. Dwight knew the story… and not one. Many…in fact he remembered them all…and then the constant effort to repair the generators. Old scars tightened with new ones…

Forget…

"When that generator explodes?"

"Hmm?"

"This…when your generator explodes and ya have your hands in it…are ya bleedin‘ after that?"

At times, Dwight didn't believe that Evan was beginning to take an interest in his injuries. Not that he wasn't interested in his pierced shoulder, mutilated ankle, or other fatal injuries inflicted on him not only by him but also by other murderers.

These little scars were different, and yet they managed to hide a lot.

"It's burning for a while, but I'm not bleeding. My clumsiness…heh… ”He looked at the scars as Evan released his grip

"Clumsiness, hmm?"

And he was still looking at Dwight's wrist. Maybe he was fascinated, maybe he was curiou. Maybe he sounded gloomy. As if he was sorry.

"You could have noticed how clumsy I was, haha…"

But Evan didn't laugh. He kept a quiet look at Dwight's wrist, breathing into his hair. Real tenderness warmed his heart. All that was left was a few words, a blanket, and a few well-aimed words. And he would be happy.

Not that he wasn't right now. He felt like never in his life. And otherwise he didn't want to feel different anymore. Maybe something to eat too. Anything but fruit and chocolate…

There was silence for a long time. Dwight wanted to ask, now was a good opportunity. At the same time, he wanted Evan to get involved. Just a little bit.

"D-Don't you want to ask something else?"

He sounded uncertain, he was sure. He has to get Evan to start asking questions. In this way, he shows interest and breaks the imaginary barrier. He wanted to trust him, didn't he? He wanted his trust… he must earn it.

" ‘bout what?"

Wrong answer.

"A-Anything. Maybe on those scars…y-you don't want to know anything about me?"

Dwight turned and made Evan looked in to his eyes. He didn't look upset, but rather insecure. It was a beautiful sight. His green eyes didn‘t stay in place. Even his breathing quickened.

He looked adorable. Dwight blushed instead of him. Evan bit his lip.

"Nah…actually, yeah. I mean… those scars are fro‘ generators… and…and… "

"I have more…" Dwight whispered.

"Do ya have more of them? W-Where? I didn't notice them when I-" He suddenly bit his lip. He said too much.

Dwight ignored the innocent remark. It sounded strange, maybe uncertain, but why would he spoil this innocence and still the desired moment. He turned on his back, staring at the insecure man, who had swallowed sharply.

"First of all… it must be said that I was not very popular. I didn't even have any friends… well… and when a few bad people get together and pick a weak link…" It wasn't easy to tell one of the many painful experiences Dwight had for the rest of his life. An ugly scar on the left side of the chest.

"Apart from pushing, kicking, there were also burns. I caught them smoking outside the school… and… they punished me… as a warning I have this… it looked worse."

He pointed to the ugly burn and looked away. He could only remember most of the bullying with a few visible scars that tarnished his body as memories. Painfully paid memories.

Evan was silent. He stared at the years-old burn. He touched it carefully with his thumb and ran it carefully over it.

"Does it hurt?"

"It's been a long time…it's just burnt skin. Long time without feeling… like dead-huh?"

Evan leaned just over the scar. He barely touched the tip of his nose. Dwight was not surprised. It was a tender gesture. Unexpectedly straightforward. But on the other hand… apparently felt sorry. Regret to the weakling who has been bullied all his life…

The reality was a little different… Evan's eyes were literally glowing with anger. Exactly when a clever survivor clears a trap and thinks he's won over it…no one wins. Everyone gets caught…

They marked him…like a cattle. They touched him in a place that are mine! This will not go away. No pain will ever go away. Will he remain forever… in the mind or body… where they marked him? Who dared to mark somethin‘ that is mine?!

"Evan?"

He touched the scar. With lips. He covered it from top to bottom with gentle kisses.

"Who was that? Is he amon‘ them? In the corral?"

In the corral? So we're like sheeps? Admitted to the trial and the wild dog is…hunting…us…

"N-No… he is not among them… and-and if he was, you would-"

"He would be my primary target… over and over. It doesn't matter the circumstances. He would be my mori victim. Over and over…whenever I saw him…" Dwight suddenly felt the onset of pain on that scar. Precisely aimed, slowly escalating pain.

"W-What are you doing?" He couldn't move. Evan held him by the shoulders. And the pain did not subside. He thought the place was dead and wasn't bleeding. "What the heck-"

"I'll cover the mark…it doesn't belon' here. This is my signature, despite this. Now it's me…this is mine. Ya are mine. No one will make marks on somethin‘ that's mine. Mine, do ya understand?!"

Those eyes… poisonous green… full of anger… Dwight was scared…

"Where are the others?!" Evan‘s voice was deep, quiet, the grip stoger. Even if he had no more scars on is body, he would have invented them. With or without a mask, in Evan’s face was pure horror and terror. Dwight's heart could literally jump out of his chest. Tears formed in the corner of his eyes, but he didn't let them run down his face…just another weakness. He swallowed all the humiliation, all the shame, and he revealed on the right side of his neck.

"Where..." The whisper was perhaps even more terrifying than his roar.

"U-U-Under the ear…they…threatened me to cut off my ear…t-they cut me so I wouldn't forget a-haa-"

No significant bites. Evan ran his tongue over the entire scar several times in a row. Now, what was worse. Remembrance of pain… or compensated tenderness for fear and panic. His body had the opposite view to his mind, burning with a desire for much greater.

More marks…more signatures…more touches…more…take me…

However, his tongue did not remain in one place. He moved lower, giving his next mark to the artery there. Your deep signature in the form of a tooth imprint. Dwight couldn't move, just take a deep breath, maybe moan. How he hated that he couldn't keep his body still. The whole trembled, the whole burned… and wanted everything.

Even lower, on the Adam's apple. First with his tongue, all around, then he gritted his teeth. Dwight shouted, but waited. What a special feeling… utter helplessness, utter suppleness. The power over his body…

"Your body wants me…it needs me. Just me. Every touch of mine and ya-"

"Your…hah."

The blow of pure possession may have hit him far too deeply.

That's how it should be. From the beginning. What he has been denied… for life. What was forbidden was equal only to death…

"Yes…only…mine…"

He touched him. Dwight's firm erection was now in giant clutches. Clenched gently, firmly. He could barely shout as Evan placed his leg on his healthy shoulder.

"Ya‘re so cute. And wet… and all thanks to me…hah…I wish I had ya sooner…" Preejaculate served as the lubricant more than enough. Dwight winced up and down. But Evan stopped his frantic movements. He laid his head on his stomach."Maybe it would save those crippled lives…but…I had nothin‘ to live for…everyone left me…"

"H-Hah…E-Evan"

"But we could never meet that… good god… ya respond to me so well… and-"

"Mmmm!" Evan began to caress my tongue again, which brought Dwight into a second growing wave of pleasure.

"Ya are …so funkin‘ sweet…mmmm." It was much better than during the first attempt. It was as if he had a talent for driving Dwight crazy. And he did very well. A few minutes had passed since the first climax, but Dwight was hard already and on the verge of another climax. How did he recover so quickly? That was Evan so good with his touches… or Dwight so hungry for a little tenderness… "Untouched in these places… I was the first… it makes me mark ya even more…and here…"

"A-Ahah!" Dwight shivered as he felt a touch in his most delicate spot on his body. The place he promised to the one who would stand by him. A place that was untouched by the outside world… Evan ran a finger over the trembling muscle. How could he be close? He could immediately penetrate him… take his virginity… but he just… played… and researched.

"Untouched. Innocent. Waitin‘. For me, I want it to be the best thin‘ in our lives. It should be so… everyone said it. The first contact… should be unforgettable…" Evan touched him again, while teasing him with tongue on the tip, which was getting sweeter and sweeter. "Are ya shakin‘ because ya like it or because ya scared?"

Dwight didn't know what to answer. Both variants were correct. He wanted to taste what he had guarded all his life, but he was afraid. Whether he will make a mistake or make a wrong move, or whether he will hurt himself…, or whether it will not be his first and last.

"Hey, I asked a question."

The predator's green eyes appeared above him. An impatient, perhaps irritated expression. Dwight swallowed a very stiff dumpling in his throat and spat out the first thing that came to his tongue.

"B-Both…"

And then suddenly nothing.

I screwed up. Now he stops and leaves…no, please don't go away.

Dwight suddenly found himself in an embrace. Firm and warm, Evan's lips on his ear. Whispering to him, "Can I change it? So that ya feel good and at the same time not be afraid of anythin‘? Of me? I don't want to make a mistake, so tell me what to do…"

He could do so much, and Dwight had all the perverse ideas and suggestions ready to taste them all. He wanted everything, but he could only do the one thing the moment allowed him.

Drop the humiliation, drop the fear, drop everything…

"Y-You can-use-your…like you did before…t-t-t-tongue. E-Explore it…and-and-and-so that it is foreign to us and-and-and-and I, to give you…t-trust."

Evan laughed softly. Dwight was nervous about his upcoming reaction…

"Ya‘re…"

Nononono, please, I didn't mean it that way. I-It was just a joke! Just please I-

"…very good boy, ya know that? YA help me a lot and it… never happened to me in my life…I needed help so much…nobody heard me…hah…w-w-will ya do it to me too, what I did before? Ya touched me and now I want to…feel your mouth. Will ya do it if I do what ya want?"

It was as if two completely ignorant teenagers were talking about exploring adult life. It was cute and kinky at the same time. Dwight would almost cry how lucky he was that Evan was just as inexperienced as he was, and yet he wanted to try everything.

Good thing I washed… twice!

"I can do that. I will do what I can… "

And in the blink of an eye, Evan was back down… dangerously close. Dwight was drenched in heat and shame. He could feel the hot and cold air around his buttocks. He had to bite his lip and wait patiently. He was slowly losing all sight of what his first intercourse might be like. The main thing is not to think about it and-

"Ha!"

Something wet and soft rubbed against the outside of his opening.

And again.

"Ha!"

Evan smiled when he saw Dwight's desperate reactions. He did well.

Then he began his slow and very careful exploration around the sensitive ring of muscles with both his tongue and lips, and this drove Dwight to a complete insanity. He circled like a madman in all directions, across the surface. Dwight rose slightly at the hips and earned a precise touch on the edge.

And he tasted the first border with the tip of his tongue. Dwight's legs shook, searching for a possible escape, then they were both trapped and placed on Evan's broad shoulders. So safe so they don't collide with cold iron. Much better position, much better enter… much greater pleasure.

He penetrated him. A damp long tongue trembled inside Dwight‘s walls, trying to get to a sweet spot. And he touched him on the second try. Dwight's hips tried to break free, but it helped Evan get deeper.

"Hmmm…Evan you're doing so well…"

"Do ya like it? What do ya want me to do?"

"Mmmmm…yes…t-touch me…I want to feel you…mmmmmmm!"

He found the right rhythm, place and style to bring Dwight to the very edge of everything. And now he gripped his erection, hard and painfull, in his palm. Dwight couldn't last much longer. Many pleasure were happening at once, and Dwight didn't know what to focus more. All things… licking, sucking and touching… wanted to feel that way for the rest of my life. Pampered and caressed even in the darkest place on the body…

Do fucking whatever to me just don't stop ah!

"I-I can‘t longer…I-I will be…too close…Evan…already-haaaaaah!"

The second climax was longer, more intense, it exhausted him twice as much. White liquide stained his stomach and chest, but he didn't pay the slightest attention. A massive wave of euphoria almost lulled him to a hard sleep. Wetness inside him and a second orgasm in such a short time…

"Did that take ya away? It was barely the second time." Evan sounded like he was mocking Dwight, but the tenderness in his voice and the touch on Dwight's thighs made up for it all.

"Well…" Only after a few minutes was he able to answer clearly." The first climax is easy, the second is more demanding and the more you push, the harder and longer it is. It's like squeezing a wet rag. The first time a lot of water, the second time less and you have to push harder, the third almost nothing and yet you have to take even more…it's normal…you have it…eh different?"

"I can do it four times in a row and I'm not as exhausted…as ya are."

Are you an alpha? That is not normal!

"Wow…you must be seriously…u-unique…"

Dwight couldn't hide his enthusiasm. He let his emotions show too much, now he couldn't hide anything at all. Before Evan could breathe to express himself, Dwight rose agilely and found himself in Evan's lap. He could feel the strong musk, cum, iron, and a little soap. Only now he really did regret not wearing glasses. He couldn't see this monster perfectly.

He took Evan’s monster in his hand while licking his lips. He was bigger than he thought. He barely hugged him with fingers. Maybe he would hold it firmly in both of his palms. Damn, he was huge.

He touched the tip with his tongue, licked it, and tasted the sweet precum. Evan's body shaked.

"A-A-A-A… I didn't ask if you if you wanted to sit or lie there…"

"L-Leave it like this…do it again…"

Evan said it so softly, barely holding on. Finally. Finally a little power. At least for a while.

Dwight hugged Evan‘s tip with his tongue and rubbed it between his lips for a few seconds. Evan's hips didn't stop shaking. And that was just the beginning. Only now Dwight got the opportunity to fulfill all his long-hidden and dirty desires. He took it in his mouth as deep as he could. He was barely in the middle and couldn't go on…but the feeling. Full mouth…and now up. And tongue at the tip. He had to pamper the rest of Evan‘s length with his palm.

And again.

"That's so warm-ah."

He got into a rhythm, though he was partially suffocating. But the feeling of growing power over someone so strong was worth of a partial lack of air in his lungs. He didn't know how much to press it so that it wasn't too much or too little. He wanted to give him another orgasm. After doing such thing for him… could get more, but-

"I'm very close-how deep can ya go?"

It sounded like a challenge. Dwight took a deep breath, relaxed his neck, and swallowed Evan almost entirely. He teased his neck for a long time, and Evan enjoyed it. Then he felt Evan‘s hand in his hair. He gripped him tightly and held him in one place. He brutally took the innocence of his mouth. He began to rock his hips so hard that Dwight choked on his own saliva. And yet it was unbelievable. He felt so helpless and powerful at the same time.

What the hell is wrong with me?!

Without warning, a violent motion suffocated Dwight, forcing him to swallow his semen. Everything, to the last drop. Dwight had to brace himself and pull himself out of the grip, or he would actually suffocate. As he gasped and tried to deny the strange taste in his mouth and throat, he didn't notice that his eyes were full of tears. Dwight responded quickly. "T-That's good...it's just a backlash when something hits your throat hard…I'm going to get some water."

He got up without hesitation and headed for the bathroom. There he washed his face with cold water and swallowed a few. Only now he felt a slight pain in his throat.

Oh…there is still fruit. Better than nothing.

To drive away the strange taste, he took a bowl of fruit and took the food slowly on the way back to the room. When he returned, Evan lay on the bed, his hands covering his face. He was breathing loudly or laughing. Dwight sat down next to him. He chewed on the remnants of the fruit and searched in vain for glasses. Nothing happened even when he lay down next to him. Then a huge hand wrapped around him. Evan put his face in his hair and pressed Dwight's back against himself.

"Eh…I-I ate everything…sorry…"

"Hmmm…I had better…stay like this…"

How long I wished I had to be like this with someone…if I could, I would stay that way forever. Just hold me tight. Don't let me go.

Chapter Text

Within a few days…nights…the time itself…when Evan left for "work" every morning, Dwight had plenty of time to think. Settle his thoughts and prepare the questions he wanted to know the answers to. The Entity itself, though it sounded and looked frightening, was in his favor. At least as far as food and clothing donations were concerned. The Entity even listened to him and gave him a book…cooking book, for more fun. But he was also able to use it. Although, in the beginning it was a real tragedy… but Evan was a grateful diner. He ate everything he got. He was always satisfied.

Dwight didn‘t mention his new gift from the Entity. Although he received a clear order from Evan to tell him everything. The good ort he bad. But he couldn't tell him that he wanted to know why he was still going to the basement, why he wouldn't lose sight of him when he came home…little things that sounded bad, but they meant something more to Dwight.

A normal person wouldn‘t feel good if someone was constantly watching him, telling him what he could and could not… a normal person wouldn‘t end up in this time loop. In this hell. A normal person wouldn‘t get a chance to live. at least an artificial idea of a normal life. Dwight wasn‘t normal. Life was not fair to him and now he wanted to enjoy every moment when he could be at least a normal man.

In order to evoke the normal family atmosphere that Dwight longed for all his life, they had to set small rules. Some were already fully functional. A kiss for a welcome and a happy journey, bath and changing clothes after arrival so that no sign of blood is on Evan‘s face, body or clothes, a warm dinner after that and…time for each other. On the other hand, don‘t try to get into rooms that have been locked, keep home tidy and keep yourself safe.

It wasn't hard to follow a few simple rules. Follow the rules and you will get tenderness and love. You'll get what you've been hungry for for the rest of your life.

Moral weight, more prevalent to the side where everything that has happened to Dwight since he entered this house bordered on the violent obsession, manipulation, and possessive behavior of a murderer who had the blood of innocent people on his hands massacred every day. Without a deeper reason…

On the other sideall this warm and emotionally strong feelings balanced all the bad so much that Dwight was able to forgive all the evil that Evan had done or could have done to him… and convinced himself that he really deserved this. And that he will never get a chance to have anything better.

Take it or leave it…

What's really wrong is being cared and pampered by a murderer who actually does it because he has no choice… and then when he comes home… he wants to live a normal longed life… which he probably didn't have neither.

And to be in an embrace at all times, strong and welcome…just like that. Don't want anything at all… just the same dose of tenderness…

"It smells nice, what is it?" A traditional moment in the traditional running of the household. Man comes home from work, takes a bath, takes his home clothes and asks what he gets for dinner. However, he will not forget a nice gesture in the form of a hug and a kiss in Dwight‘s hair…

"Goulash or an imitation. Maybe it will be edible…" Dwight made it according to the recipe but he didn't tell Evan. Yet. And Evan didn't ask. He knew that the Entity was giving them food, and he didn't care what he continued to do and create with it. The main thing was that he had warm food.

"What did I tell ya?" The grip tightened, but it wasn't uncomfortable. His voice didn't sound bad neither.

"Don't underestimate yourself?" As a reward for the right answer, Dwight received a kiss on the cheek. A nice gesture that Dwight starved for every time he earned one. Be supported for every little thing…

"Good boy. Are ya all right today?" Evan always asked. Every time he came to check on him. Dwight and dinner. Don’t be alright in this fortress. Doors and windows were locked, there were no weapons except a kitchen knife and the fire in the stove was easy to maintain, only when Evan started it.

"I feel good… when you're home with me…" And now Dwight asked for another kiss. On the mouth. Over time, he became greedy… he wanted more and more… because he was afraid that one day he would lose everything. That the Entity will divide them and throw them back…

Evan got the hint. He knew what Dwight wanted, and he wanted it too. He stole a few tender kisses. "If I could, I wouldn't leave the house. But I have to go to work so we can have this good time together…"

"We're both fine… we're warm, we have food… each other…" Dwight gradually lowered his voice… "And if you had time off… what would we do?"

"Whatever ya want…except going out." Evan sat down at the table and waited for his dinner. The answer left Dwight with a blissful smile and ignorance.

Whatever I want…

The dinner was as usual in peace, accompanied by a crackling fire in the stove. Each dinner was a small re-enactment for Dwight in the form of watching Evan eat. The more they spent together during dinner, the more Dwight felt like with an actual child, quite cute. And even after the meal he received a little different joy from Evan…

It has also become an everyday tradition, a traditional household…or rather a ritual. Every time Evan entered the house, he was covered in blood from head to toe, but always…he was hard. It couldn‘t be overlooked. Dwight wondered at times if that was still the case. And then it was worse when he changed…then Dwight became hard even faster. And what was even worse… when he hugged him from behind. He could feel him. And when he felt him like that, it always meant one thing.

It always came after a meal… or even before. It always relied on Dwight's courage and… horniness. He was often reluctant, and before he dared to take the first step, Evan was already holding his wrist, asking him if he wanted to do it… and then there were moments when Dwight almost pounced on him in the doorway. It didn't matter if Evan was covered in blood. When something moved in Dwight, he had to dig his fingernails into the wood to hold on.

Oral games created a strange cloud of adulthood that hid their childhood for a while. Dwight's favorite place to give was under the dining table. He could simply hide and observe the reactions of Evan's body. How little was enough for him to be in power. It wasn't too hard to find Evan's sensitive spot. Although he tried not to move as Dwight ran his tongue under his tip, around the vein, his body shook. Sometimes Evan held it so hard he just tapped his feet when Dwight attacked… but didn't last long.

For Dwight, on the other hand, it was a pleasure to learn how to manipulate with someone. Even in such an intimate situation, but that was what it was all about. He got the power and wanted to use it out of his lungs. Where Evan didn't stand a chance was a deep throat. He was already on the very edge of his strength, unconsciously trying to get all the air out of Dwight's lungs. Not that he didn't make it…at such a moment, Dwight choked on his sperm and vomited while gasping for breath.

Nothing pleasant… but the rest of his body was hungrier even more. Whenever he was suffocated or was brutally held, Dwight was brought to the very bottom of submissiveness…and he liked it. No, he loved that.

Evan didn't hurt him. Not at all, he was far too careful for that… Dwight had to explicitly tell him "pull me by hair", "suffocate me", "step on me".

 When he satisfied Evan with both food and dessert, it was Dwight's turn. He always panicked when he had to choose a place and a position. He wanted to try everything, but at the same time he was ashamed that he had such obscene ideas at all.

"What's wron‘ with wantin‘ ya to feel good? More than good? It's not fair… ya will not feel good with me and ya will want to run away from me…"

Over and over again. Evan always gradually lost patience, but Dwight's flushed cheeks, red lips, wet chin, and seemingly painful erection always calmed him and forced him to take matters into his own hands. And each place was unique. But Dwight's favorite place was the couch. It was not only a comfortable place for both of them, but under the weight of a massive body he felt safe and… wanted.

Despite Evan's rudeness and clumsiness, Dwight enjoyed every intimate moment he was given. From simple kisses, decent touches and hugs, to possessive bites, even more possessive touches leaving deep bruises, and to a power-hungry and breathtaking oral. And every contact was better than the last. With absolutely no experience and with each new opportunity, they learned from each other how to do each other well. How to please the other better than the last time. How to satisfy each other and their needs.

They both had their dreams about it. And they finally could fulfill them.

Dwight indulged in power and domination during the most delicate moment they could ever experience together. At this moment. Giving time and work to literally drive Evan to the cries and pleas for release that drove him to masochistic tendencies about which he had no idea he would be into…be pulled by the hair, to be suffocated, to beg for flattery and praise.

Evan, on the other hand, tried to torment himself. Despite the enthusiastic exploration of new unmarked parts of Dwight's body, despite the less enthusiastic re-marking of old scars of various origins… he would literally suffocate… he always had to swallow Dwight. Fully. He had tears on the edge of his eyes, saliva around his mouth…but he was always smiling. He was overjoyed to make Dwight writhe and make the most adorable sounds he had ever heard.

"D-Don't hurt yourself. Please y-you don't have to be so rude-hah good Entity! Don't stop!"

Such words only made Evan push even harder on the sensitive points deep in his mouth. He would suffocate if he could. He would humble himself to the bottom, just so he could hear it all.

"Evan, please-Ahah!"

The taste was still just as bitter… he would probably get used to it if it was the only one thing to eat…

Dwight was always exhausted. He gasped as if his life was at stake…hmmm he almost forgot about the feeling. Somewhere deep inside, he felt he wanted more. He would like to move on.

After that, when he was flooded with tender kissess and touches, he was always thing about one thing…when will be Evan free from one trial? Will you let me have him…for whole day, Entity? Will do that for…both of us?

Chapter Text

Dwight woke up in bed. He wasn‘t alone in it this time. They were holding hands. Dwight smiled as he clung them together. He could smell the familiar smell of iron. Just hold on and don't let go. That was all he wanted. At least for today… but his wish has faded.

"I have to go. It‘s callin‘ me… "

"I know…just a little longer…please…"

Evan sighed with a smile and snuggled closer to Dwight. He hid his face in Dwight's hair and enjoyed his last few minutes of peace and Dwight. He didn't want to admit it…not yet…he didn't want to admit that he was really happy now. Happy because Dwight was happy. Because Dwight was happy with him.

"Ya smell beautiful…ya know that?"

Dwight chuckled and shook his head. Evan was telling him that every time he had a face in his hair. It was as if he was hiding in. He always liked to hide where he could smell the pleasant smell… and where he felt safe. Just like Dwight in his arms.

"Say something else…anything…a-about me. What do you like about me?" Dwight was uneaten when it came to the slightest flattery. Will the day come when it will all be lost? He… acknowledges the Entity and the Entity can be…merciful.

"Anythin‘? Ya smell beautiful, ya have a perfect laugh…"

Any nonsense, little things…everything made Dwight happy. The more flattery he received, the more he snuggled up to Evan. Like a little puppy being scratched behind his ear.

...

"Ya're like a rabbit I wouldn't stop strokin‘… and it's hard to leave ya alone…just like that." Evan got his backpack with traps over his shoulder and reached for the mask on the high shelf. Dwight stepped quietly behind him in large slippers.

"But I'm safe here, and you'll be back soon, won‘t you?" Dwight munched on his favourite ugly sweater as he tried to catch Evan's gaze before disappearing completely behind the jagged mask that never ceased to be repulsive. Surprisingly, it was getting more and more bloodied…

"I will kill anyone who touches ya. I can promise ya that…" Before he put on his mask, he roughly stole one unexpected goodbye kiss. However, he tore Dwight's lower lip. Not to forget who he belongs to. "If I could take ya with me, ya could enjoy those last glances."

"H-Heh… I… I wouldn't bring you much luck… I'm clumsy. You have known that for a long time…" It is not a day without to humiliate himself. He couldn't do anything better anyway. But Evan had a different idea. And he couldn't refute it with such pathetic words.

"Hmm, maybe. It's still cute. Ya are my luck charm. If ya are happy, then I am happier during the trial." He allowed himself to give another decent kiss on Dwight hand. Another small gesture that made Dwight blush.

"A-Am I really a lucky charm?"

"Ever since I chose ya, I've been the happiest guy ever. Behave here, while I am gone."

Evan disappeared behind the door and the whole house locked and lost all color. A feeling of emptiness and anxiety made Dwight so uncomfortable. Especially after hearing such beautiful flattery. Not out of remorse…but out of affection.

And his lip was bleeding…a signal that it was all real. Another brand of ownership was among the many others on his body.

Dwight moved to the stove and added some wood. He heated the water and made tea in his mug. He thought about what he could cook. During this time, the Entity would offer him several raw materials. Entity was hanging around a little now. Never mind, Dwight thought, pulling out his little present. A great cookbook with recipes he had never seen in his life and longed to try them. Although he was a real anti-talent for everything he touched…but when he touched Evan… hehe.

He often had strange tastes when he was struck by some perverse ambiguity. And Evan always figured in it. Well, not so that with his help he could look into a completely different world…although in a different reality and time…he tasted something what he was hungry for all his life…and he didn't have to be ashamed of it.

He started the book without noticing that color and light had returned to the house. Dwight stopped. He was overcome with heat and fear.

"Guess who's off today?" It was Evan. He sounded menacing from behind the mask. He was used to deep breathing and the mask itself.

"E-Evan? A-Are you free? How?" Dwight panicked, trying to hide the book from Evan's field of vision. Which he did, but he no longer noticed Evan's massive footsteps as he appeared directly behind him. He turned slowly as he felt the calloused fingers under his sweater.

"My lucky charm," he said with a smile, then took one welcome kiss. And one became two, and two became a pile. Insatiable fingers found their place on Dwight's bare back as they gently marked their possessions. "The first time Entity sent me home." Evan sighed as he parted from Dwight's trembling lips for a moment. Dwight could barely breathe as Evan's hungry lips fell back on his.

Dwight wanted to touch him, but the strong smell of iron, blood, and grease… he wanted to break away. He was very uncomfortable with the combination. When Evan finally let him breathe again, he had to breathe through his mouth. The smell was too much.

"C-Could you…it's so bad smell." Dwight had to clear his throat. Tears began to pour into his eyes.

"What? A-Ah… I'm goin‘ to change. Wait here for me." Evan immediately realized the cause of Dwight's withdrawn behavior. He unlocked the metal cellar door and disappeared for a moment. Dwight barely noticed as Evan ran out of the basement and continued up to the next floor. What caught his attention was the abraded, unlocked door. He ignored the order to wait on the spot. Curiosity caught him at his best.

Evan realized his biggest mistake as he got out of the shower. He forgot to breathe for a moment. One mistake… and everything could be gone.

No. No. No no no no no! NO!

"Did you really think I wouldn't find it?"

“F-Father! I-I'll explain! "

"Such a weaklin‘ has nothin' to explain to me."

"My drawings…"

“Only faggots do this stuff! Are a one of them?!"

"N-No…"

"I can‘t hear you!"

"No, sir. I'm not a faggot!”

"For mistakes ya pay. To the basement, you scum! At least I have something to put to fire… "

It was a mistake… inattention… paid hard… another mistake. Can‘t…

The door was ajar. It was dark below and the cold and disgusting air. Mold or worse. But Dwight was close. What drew him down. Curiosity? A surge of adrenaline? Desire to know something that has been locked up to him so far?

Dwight touched the door with my fingertips and swallowed hard.

"Do ya want to go down?" Evan's voice came from behide. His voice was scary…but the beginning of abominable joy was evident. "Down there are things that…" He suppressed a wide smile… "…they could tell you more than enough about me…" Evan touched Dwight's fingers gently. He intertwined between them and placed his chin on his shoulder. Still not losing his smile.

Dwight swallowed hard again. He had not been under such strong pressure and tension for a long time. He felt danger from behind the door. And again and again. His own curiosity urged him to danger. He will never learn. He will still poke his nose where he is not welcome. "I-Is there a corpse down there?" The first thing that occurred to him. What else could Evan hide in the basement? He had seen enough horror movies, and this would not be the first case of a corpse under the house.

"Do ya want to find out? Go. See for yourself. Say yes, loud a' clear and ya will give me permission to do anything with ya. I will not be reluctant from that moment. I won‘t wait for anythin‘. Ya take everythin‘…the little I have…then I take the little ya still have. It‘s simple. Take all my dirt, all my secrets… how simple is that, huh? What will I lose? Reputation? Pride? Ya? Decide wisely, mistakes are paid… from both sides." The temptation was far too great. What could he hide, so big, terrible, ugly that he himself could pay for it? The risk was too great. He couldn't, now…everything, throw everything away for one stupid curiosity.

Dwight touched the handle. Evan sharpened. His body was shaking with fear or anticipation.

"Say it. Loud and clear first."

Dwight swallowed empty. He closed the door and looked down.

"No. I don't want to throw it all away. I'm sorry." The pressure around his fingers intensified. One of them's hand was shaking. "I-I don't want to force you into anything… just like you with me. I also want it to be b-between us. I-I'll wait too… and when you want…you can show me. I-I won’t go there, without you."

The words didn't make sense. It sounded twice as good in Dwight's mind, but it might have come to the same or at least a similar conclusion. Dwight tilted his head to the side to touch Evan, who hid his face in his shoulder.

"Evan?"

Dwight immediately found himself in Evan‘s arms. He didn't look him in the face. He didn't let him. He didn't twist much, he knew how Evan didn't like it. For a moment, he feared that he would throw him into the cellar, or that he would throw him to the ground. He grabbed Evan by the collar to be at least a little confident. After a few steps, he was gently laid on the couch. Evan was still hiding his face. Shame?

"I…" Evan began in a hoarse voice as he began to stroke Dwight‘s hair. "I didn't mean…" It sounded like the beginning of a sob.

"I know you didn’t. That's okay. Nothing happened. W-We're not in a hurry, are we?" Dwight sat in his lap, still hugging him around the shoulders. A strange feeling to feel Evan's massive body trembling. As his big hands travel down his back, unaware of where they have their place.

"D-Did I screw it up?" Evan was at the beginning of a sob. Dwight calmed him with a touch on his head.

"No, no. You didn't do anything wrong. But now… I want…I…" Dwight swallowed. Could you afford to want something? At the moment? Was he at all in a position to make a wish? Evan laid him carefully on his back, leaving himself over Dwight. He touched both of his faces. Now he felt his erection. It rubbed against his, and it was incredibly tender.

"A-Anythin‘… tell me… I'm free thanks to ya… whatever ya want." A hint of despair, Dwight thought as his lips curled into a triumphant smile.

Free, you say? Who binds you? The Entity? Or someone…

...

Dwight could say several things that appeared in his mind. Like a dream come true, talking about anything. What if he reached the very bottom and ordered Evan to be his slave? At least for a while… power and domination.

And he didn't have it anymore?

"We are both pretty hard. I-I can feel you. What are we going to do about it?" He made Evan look into his eye. He was like a big puppy. He enjoyed stroking his head. He could lie on Dwigt all day. Enjoying Dwight‘s heartbeat. Gentle touches on his face and head. Maybe a few gentle words, how good a boy he is, how affectionate he is, how gorgeous his eyes are…anything that would make them wanted and loved. "Will you kiss me and… we will h-help each other?"

Precum served more than purposefully. Dwight felt little bit embarrassed how wet he was in his pants. All this…the whole foreplay, pinning to the wall, threats and subsequent tenderness…this…oh how weak he was. Greater shame came the moment, whe he took Evan's erected cock and compared to his own… no need for words. But they didn't matter now.

Having Evan in his hand was like holding a death gun. Hard and wet meat, reacting only to Dwight. His voice, his smell, his touch, his moaning. Was that too bad for being such submissive and still having his pride in his hand?

Evan’s tongue was in Dwight’s mouth like wild animal. Dwight could’t swallow his saliva all along. It’s not a race, Dwight thought. It’s not a war, Dwight thought. This was a dance. Between two desperate men, who just wanted… each other. In their ways.

Evan was so gentle, when he touched Dwight‘s half hard dick. So gentle, so tender… Dwight imagined for just a moment that this wasn’t Evan at all. He wasn't rough or brutal… for the most parts of their intime time… he was curious but hungrier each time he got a bite. Maybe he was scared that there won’t be another time or that… Dwight would run away.

Is he so scared for being alone… again?

I don't want to be alone, neither.

Dwight almost forgot his only job. Made Evan cum. But he himself was on the edge… but not that much. Evan’s hand was slow and strong. He was taking his time and Dwight’s patience.

Who was about to cum as the first? Dwight, obviously… with Evan’s tongue so deep in his mouth, down in his neck and then… Dwight wanted even more. He took Evan’s hand and slowly put it right before his face. Evan was stunned for a bit. And the blush on his face. Priceless.

Dwight took two fingers into his mouth and slowly, carefully wet them from each side.

"W-What are ya-"

"Carefully… put them i-inside… d-down here…" Fingers stil on his tongue, but his words were more than clear to blushing Evan.

"A-A-A-Are ya sure-"

Dwight took his pants down quicly and placed tip of Evan’s finger deadly near to his trembling hole. He had done this many times before… with himself. Never with someone else.

"D-Don’t rush, a-alright? Take your time. I-I will help you."

Evan wasn't sure at all. To be honest, he seemed quite nervous and unsure. He swallowed hard and kept changed his view from Dwight’s face and Dwight’s painfull erection.

Slowly, very slowly first finger went into the rig musles. Dwight shaked, his legs didn't know where to go, so he kept flaping them all around. Just to give Evan the perfect position and view…what was the shame at this moment?

"It‘s in. It’s t-tight…" Evan was so quite, Dwight could overheard him…

"I can feel it… n-now move it in and out… o-open me… then put the second o-one… hah." A strange warm wave of pleasure and pain moved inside of him. Making his brain stop for second. And another time. Each time Evan’s finger went out and in, Dwight stopped thinking and the pleasure that was growing. "Mmmm… more."

Then the second finger found its way… and that was a different level. Dwight knew how much different size their hands were.

I-It’s the same size as m-my toys-

"Mmmm~ s-slowly…"

"I am tryin‘! Like that?!" Evan didn‘t want to raise his voice, but his inner fear from unknown and lust for more of these forbidden fruits were pushing him… deeper.

Dwight just moaned in pleasure. Covering his red face, bitting his bottom lip… anything to hide his face. His blushing ridiculous face. Two fingers inside him felt now incredible. Fuck the toys, fuck all that bullshit named life and fuck… him. Just enjoy what you wants. What you need. What you deserve.

"E-Evan ~ f-faster… I am… close… mmm~"

Evan was breathing much faster then Dwight. Which was curious. He must had have been so nervous. To do everything right. Everything that was possibly so unknown for him. So he went faster. Dwight’s body responded quieckly. Shaking his body up and down forced Evan to pay also attention to his erection. He couldn't think. He used what he had. He swallowed Dwight fully and kept brutal pacing.

He hit something. Something soft and-

"Aaaaaa! T-This! There! Evan~"

Dwight came faster and harder than ever before. He felt so exhausted, so excited, so weak, so tired. It was getting dark before his eyes. And wave of warm hugged him.

"Dwight? Y-Ya alright? Say somethin‘!"

"I… never felt this good before… thank you."

…

Darkness.

Nothing but darkness.

Noises.

From one person.

Moaning.

"Dwight…"

Dwight smiled after he heard his name. Licking his lips immidiately.

"Dwight…" This time desperate.

"Mmmm…"

"O-Open…"

Dwight licked his lips again and slightly opened his mouth. Something hot wanted to go inside. Dwight moaned when he let his tongue searched for that hot and… hard meat.

"R-Right there, all around…"

Salt and sweet. Strange combination. Dwight’s favorite. He kept circling around, but he opened his mouth a little bit more, hard meat went straight in.

"Ghhh! S-Swallow me!" And Dwight did. Even he couldn’t breathe properly, it was overwhelming feeling. Suffocated and used. He felt that. His weakness, his zero resistance.

He liked that. Very much.

Dwight liked being used as a toy and treated like a princess.

What a life…

Then he almost drowned, when sticky liqued spilled in his mouth and neck. He couldn’t swallowed everything.

Then he finally woke up.

Discusting stuff in his mouth, suffocated, finding way to safe himslef.

"Here, here. Ya can spit it here- "

Dwight grabed the first what he saw and vomited everything that kept him away from breathing. After that he found out it was Evan palm.

"I-I-I-Sorry! I-I didn't know-" Dwight saw Evan’s hand overfilled with his own cum and saliva. He was furious about how to clean this mess.

"Nah, it’s alright. " Evan didn't sound happy. Dwight knew that. He fucked that up. He looked at him, after Evan stood up and left the room. Now he felt like a beaten puppy. Unwanted and lonely. He wanted to hide and cry.

Why everything he does, ends like a totally fail. If he wasn't so fragile, he would hit himself right into face. Few drops of tears run on his red face.

Embarrassing…

"Here. Drink it."

Evan came back with glass of water. Dwight wasn't sure, but he followed the order. Water was fresh and cold. It helped his neck, but didn't help his awkwardness.

"I-I…sorry." Dwight said softly, hidding his tears into sleeves.

"Nothin‘ to be sorry ‘bout." Evan sounded pissed. Even his face was… darker. "My fault. " Finally he looked at Dwight. And he noticed. "Ya cried?"

"I-I-It was a little bit rough…" He lied. Obviously. After all this time, rough blow jobs weren’t even rough. They didn't make him cry. Failing made him… but Evan mustn‘t know.

Evan stayed silent. He moved closer and kissed Dwight on forehead. "I didn't mean it. Forget about that… what do ya want to do next?" Evan softly wiped out Dwight’s tears from his face.

"A-Anything?"

“Sure thin‘. No goin ‘out, of course." He looked at doors. Locked. Safe. Secure.

"S-So can you show me your drawings?"

Chapter Text

Dwight was waiting patiently in the room. He was full of enthusiasm and expectations. He could finally learn something new. Finally, Evan agreed to share a piece of himself. On the other hand, Evan didn't look excited. He tried to turn Dwight's suggestion to anything else, but Dwight didn't let it go.

"It's just sketches…nothing interesting." Evan muttered as he entered the room uncertainly. He held a wooden box in his hands. He laid it on the bed next to Dwight. "It's… everything I've been able to save… ehhh, I'll leave you alone…"

"Why don't you stay here with me?" Dwight touched the wooden box. It was delicate, handmade. He was eager. He wanted to open it so much, but at the same time he wanted Evan to be with him. "It's your job. I want you to be proud." He tapped him next to him and lured Evan back. With a warm smile and a harmless offer, Evan was embarrassed. On the one hand, there was embarrassment for such weakness as his sketches, and on the other hand, there was pure curiosity and a small desire for recognition. "Please, Evan…"

He sighed. He couldn't say no now. Not when Dwight was smiling at him like that. "Okay…"

A small victory. Evan sat down, looking nervously at which sketch would show Dwight first. He couldn't control his nervousness. He hadn't shown anyone his drawings and sketches before. Voluntarily.

"They are great! How many of them is there? Who taught you? Do you only draw on small piece of paper or did you draw on canvas?" Too many questions. None of them were aimed badly. On the contrary. The enthusiasm in Dwight's eyes could not be denied. He inspected each sketch carefully. He even looked the other side of each paper. Each sketch was signed. "That's really cool." Like a museum exhibit you could touch. Therefore more fun. Evan answered the questions quietly. Beneath each sketch was a story. It was as if yesterday he had drawn a trap hidden in tall grass, how a woodpecker had landed in the branches of a dry tree, how a strong wind had uprooted a tree and its roots, how a garden cared for mostly by his mother…faded. “Woooo… who is it? Is that you?" A fateful sketch came on the scene… a sketch of damn newspaper photo.

"This is my father. This one. This is…me… when I was young." Evan did not sound enthusiastic. Not a bit. Such an old memory hurt. Redrawn photo from a newspaper when financial growth was announced to the public. And he was forced to be next to him.

"Here? This handsome man? How old were you?"

"I dunno…fifteen? I almost grew up a father. It wasn't until eighteen that I grew this height. "Evan leaned over Dwight's shoulder. It's been so long.

Dwight still held the sketch in his hand, pulling another. The deeper he was, the more detailed the sketches were. And it was just faces. Each other. Smiles, anger, fatigue, enthusiasm, fear… Dwight had the same question on his tongue… who are these? Then he remembered that one specific confession.

"138 men…one blast…"

Dwight was drenched in cold sweat. Just the memory of his words and his stomach moved. He quickly went through more and more sketches. He finally came across something that returned his words on his tongue.

"It's you!" He took a very detailed sketches. It was impossible not to recognize Evan in this one. He even had a scar. "You also had hair! Ehh….t-to, I mean…" That wasn't very appropriate, Dwight realized. He bit his lip, hoping Evan overheard it.

"Well,I suppose I have lost it here….I don’t remember. I wasn't that old when the Entity threw me here…" How old was he? What year was it when the mine exploded? He had a calendar. In the main room…Dwight wanted to ask. Evan was faster. "H-How old are you?" Evan was interested in the question for a long time. Dwight wasn‘t older than him. His hands were not destroyed, his face was soft, with no scars or signs of old age. Perfect… almost childish. And still so nervous, scared… longed to be a leader…

"Twenty-six. The night I got lost in the forest…the Entity came for me…I was my birthday…" Maybe they knew. That's why they pulled him out on the pretext that he would celebrate his birthday. Celebrate a birthday with someone for the first time. With friends. "I had no friends. I couldn't celebrate it with anyone. I was always alone. And traditionally, the day before, someone beat me… and destroyed my glasses. No friends, no money, and beaten. And I wanted to belong somewhere…" Dwight could now only laugh. There was no space for tears. Not anymore. He cried long time ago. And it wasn’t worth it. It was all long gone. Now? He was dead. Well, maybe somewhere in between. But he will never return. He will never see his parents. He will never return to work. And now…no one will hurt him anymore. Now he has Evan, and he promised him not be hurt or feel pain.

Dwight looked at Evan. He hoped Evan wouldn't hurt him.

Evan didn't look back. He was drowning in panic. Twenty-six?! At least he’s not minor…but, so younger…after all… with such a child's face…

A touch of his shoulder woke him from his panic. "Do you think we could meet? In real life? " Impossible, but adorable in some way. What would it be like? Meet on his property…apparently it was good business that kept the family tradition. Or so Dwight imagined. Family tradition with a very bitter and bloody end.

"I-I wish we could…but…t-this is better." Evan said quietly, hidding his blissful smile.

"Sometimes I didn't even wear new glasses. I couldn’t. I was so poor I had to wore crooked glasses without half the glasses for a few weeks. Funny, isn’t that?" Dwight tried to ease the situation. But Evan didn't laugh.

"Who hurt you?" Evan swallowed a bitter salive on his tongue. An image of beaten Dwight poped in his mind. He was getting angry for some reason.

"One and the same bunch of hooligans. I'm not a figher. Just look at me… maybe even the pig on the hook would lasted longer…heh… such a weak man I am. I wish I could be strong as you…"

Evan was silent. He looked away and took a deep breath. Dwight sighed. Apparently he wasn't so interested in stories from the distant past. And who is it? Who cares about the problems of a loser who couldn't take care of himself and was just unlucky. He focused on the next sketch. These were the only things that could break the already dense atmosphere.

"Oh, is that me?" He held an old sketch in his hands. The paper was losing color. "But I don‘t have stubble? Or did I have it?"

"What do you mean?" Evan looked at the sketches Dwight was holding. "That‘s…"

***

"You're a reasonable guy, and I trust you. We are part of the association. We don't want to work for that bully anymore… but we want to wait. When you take the lead. "

"How about devoting yourself to art? You have good hands and it would be a shame in the mines. You mom was an artist, wasn’t she? I heard that… she sang and loved to dance."

"I can't do that, Evan. I have family. I even waiting for my grandchild every day. Do you understand? I will be a grandfather!"

***

Desmond. Just a little older Dwight…scary how similar they were.

"But I always wanted a beard. I would look more serious right away."

Evan didn't answer. He delved too deep into old and painful memories. He looked away from the man in the sketch who had pulled the painful memories out.

Dwight was thrilled. He didn't know the story. He made it up himself. “What would I look like with a beard? Evan?"

He did not answer. He bit his dry lips so hard that a faint stream of blood ran down him after a moment.

"You're bleeding!" Dwight shouted when he saw the blood on Evan's chin.

"Hmm? This? It's nothing compared to… ghhh." Evan staggered. More and more unpleasant memories. Where is their end? Will they ever stop? Is he so crippled that he will never get rid of them again?

Dwight didn't let go. He leaned over Evan's face, took it in his hands, and licked his bleeding lip. Evan winced decently. "I-I only…" Before he could explain his action, Evan pressed himself to his lips and slowly defeated him to the ground. The kisses mixed with the blood were strange. Dwight had a taste of his own blood on his tongue several times, but never a stranger, and not even while kissing.

For Evan, it was a painfully interesting diversion. As a boy, he imagined how it felt when two kisses and smell blood. As a boy, he still had blood on his tongue.

"Better?" Asked Evan while licking his ripper lip.

"It's not bleeding anymore. But it hurts…" Dwight smiled as he carefully separated himself from Evan's lips and focused on his torn lip. Evan just sighed loudly and licked his lip once again. He looked down and began to think about the bunch of hooligans that had caused Dwight's trouble.

Because Dwight couldn‘t see Evan in the head. Dwight returned to the sketches, leaving Evan in thought.

Dwight began sorting the sketches according to whether they were faces, environments, or things. All the sketches Evan had given him passed through his hand and therefore his eyesight. He wasn't an art expert, but Dwight could imagine all the life in each and all that modeled him in the living light.

Evan was talented. That could not be denied. Until he envied him. Being so good at something, and just doing it. Just drawing and enjoying it. At the Dwight chose four sketches he didn't want to give away. They were all Evan's faces from different angles, and each sketch had a different expression. The sight of them literally drove Dwight crazy. He wanted them all.

"C-Can I keep them?"

Evan warned. He focused on the four sketches Dwight held in his hands. He tilted his head to the side. "Why? What do you want to do with it?"

Dwight didn't have to lie. He could say straight away that he wanted something. When he lost his freedom and literally his life. Although he was worth more than nothing. But he couldn't tell Evan that…he would lose the very last grain of himself.

"When… you're gone, I'm sad and…" Dwight shifted his legs to himself and didn't even realize the undertones of his body language.

Evan laughed mischievously. "Do you miss me, when I am gone?"

"Huh? Well, yeah. I'm here alone, and even though fire is here, I'm cold." Blood rushed to his face, his body and voice trembling. Slowly he began to realize what he was saying. But he realized it too late. Evan spread his arms around him and gripped him like a bear trap.

"H-Huh?"

"And you touch yourself when you're sad and you think of me?"

Dwight was trapped again. He'll never get used to it. Feeling safe and at the same time in danger was a feeling he could not describe. Excitement of fear. He lost words on his tongue.

"A-A-A s-sometimes? O-Occasionally? W-When I'm cold or…" He couldn't finish even half of his thought when their lips met again. Dwight was a little startled and bit Evan in the tongue as he entered his mouth. Evan took it as a challenge and bit Dwight in the lip.

Little did any of them know that these partially painful yet exciting games would have such a result. Running out of breath, Evan exerted all his might and lifted Dwight into his arms, an uninterrupted kiss. He found his way to his bed at the blindness and sound of cracking boards beneath his feet. There he laid Dwight carefully and literally lay down.

Dwight chuckled softly. Evan registered immediately. "W-What? Did I hurt you?"

The reddened cheeks and captivating eyes could not be hidden on Dwight's face. "T-That's just my natural reaction to the things I dreamed of." He chuckled like a little girl and pressed a stolen sketches under his shirt.

Evan wasn‘t blind. He immediately noticed Dwight's actions. He grabbed his wrist.

"I'll leave you those sketches under one condition." His eyes were poisonous green, full of malice. And his lips curled into a kind, triumphant smile. "You will not touch yourself until I returns. You will wait for me. I want it all for myself."

The idea of Dwight welcoming Evan in his long green shirt while hiding an erection… Dwight couldn't wait to try it. And now he had a simple way. Sketches in his palm with the perfect image of Evan… what more could he wants.

"Yeah, and by the way, what did you dream of?"

"Hmm?" Dwight blinked in confusion.

"When I laid you down and you laughed, you said you do it when you fulfilled your dream. What it was?"

"Emmm… I've always dreamed that one day someone strong would carry me in their arms. Someone who loves me, who cares about me. Hihi. And it won't be a problem for them… I'm quite fat… "

Evan was uncertain and blushed. He was slowly losing dominance. At the same time hear the recognition of your strength and the effort to be caring… considerate. The biggest weaknesses one can have. At least that's how it was sucked into his head.

"Ya not…fat at all. A-Am I strong?"

What a trivial question. Dwight had a clear answer.

"You are the strongest person I know. And I trust you, so I'm not afraid of you."

***

"Muscles and brains are not one and the same. Gain respect by being fair. Not that you break their arm. You are coward to think like…you know, your damn father. Our boss."

***

"Your father is…well, I'm afraid of him. Like you, my child…but don't worry. We will run away where he will not find us. Be strong, for both of us."

***

"Such a weakling! They are nothing but labor! Don't treat them like equals! You have to be above them. Or are ya the same dirt as them?! A weak maggot?!"

***

Memories that left a bitter mark. Memories that hurt more than they had. Evan's head ached.

"Good to know." He lay down fast enough to hide his incipient embarrassment in a pillow. A strong guy doesn't cry, do they? But Evan couldn't stop his tears, so at least he hid them. "Thanks. I needed to hear that."

"I can go on, if you want."

Evan no longer answered.

Dwight decided that Evan felt asleep immediately. He began to blame himself for making Evan so tired that he fell into a heavy sleep. Just because he carried him in his arms.

"Dammit… why am I so fat…" He reached for a sketches under his T-shirt and unwrapped them. He smiled and fell asleep with the idea of Evan in front him. In his full handsomeness. "You know - I'd like to see you with hair. How you used to be before it all. If we met in our world, how would we meet? About…what would it be like? Would it be the same as now? Or completely different?"

Dwight was not the only one interested in the answers to his questions. Not just out of sheer curiosity. How many emotions could something small create there?

She wanted to know. It was a perfect spectacle and even richer food. She hadn't indulged in so much emotion in her entire existence. And she wanted more. Much more.

And those men were broken… and would give anything to be happy. And out of desperation, great abominations take place…

Chapter Text

Dwight wasn‘t used to waking up alone. Not anymore. Even now it was no exception. He awoke before Evan, who, though quietly, snored and had his hand on Dwight's body. He didn't even remember how they got here and what happened before they fell asleep. The important thing was that he was still holding the three sketches with Evan's face in his hands. He pressed them to his chest, along with a massive scarred and burned hand. He couldn't have had more heat.

When it came time to return to the trial, the farewell was not as touching as he had initially thought. "As usual, be nice." Evan ordered. Dwight smiled, exchanging kisses before leaving. As soon as the door closed behind Evan, the colors and light in the house went out.

Dwight moved to the stove, where he placed it so that he could heat not only himself but the entire room. He found a new interesting thing on the shelf. Paper coffee filter. He had never noticed it before, and he searched every inch, every part of the house where he was allowed. This was new… and unused.

Does he make coffee? And where is one? Dwight thought as he continued to examine the shelf. He found nothing else. He was honestly disappointed. He would like to taste a coffee again. Maybe if he asked… this is how it works right? Ask and you will be satisfied…maybe.

Dwight sighed. He placed the filters on the table next to the unfolded sketches. He started mumbling to himself "I would like to see you with hair. Can I see you? Could we meet in the real world? Or would you be already old or dead?"

He shuddered at the memory of Evan's statement. Although the chill ran down his spine, it still didn't deter him. He believed that the Entity played a role in Evan's act. Why else would he do that? Why else would he draw them?

"Do you want to know the truth?"

Dwight fell from his chair to the floor. It wasn't Evan's voice. It was no longer a human voice. A mixture of voices and accents.

"W-Who is it?!" Dwight blurted out in a trembling voice.

"Do you want to know the truth?"

The claws swarmed from the walls, the table, the chairs, the floor. Black long claws and red spikes. Dwight knew who he was honored with. These claws dug into his body whenever he was thrown on the hook.

"E-Entity? W-What do you want from me?! W-Why are you here?!"

"I'm everywhere. This is my world. You are my figure… like all of you."

Dwight swallowed and stood up. He grabbed his chair as his knees shook. It was a habit. His knees always shook in any situation where he felt trapped.

"Why…" Dwight tried to keep tears in his eyes. The Entity had never shown up before, at least its claws. Will they take him back? Will he lose everything he had…will he lose Evan? "Please… I don't want go back… please…"

The claws wrapped around him, but didn‘t touch him. He had the spikes close to his face. Sharp and deadly.

This. The end of a dream, the end of illusions. He couldn't even say goodbye to the man who had given him everything he ever wanted. He wanted to fight, but with this, with an indescribable force that could take people and the environment and imprison them in another world…what could he do? Nothing, just cry.

"Do you wish to know the truth?" The claws seized all three sketches. "Do you want to see him? Do you want to know who he really was?"

"E-Evan… please… I… know him?" Dwight shuddered. But he couldn't move. Here he could only bargain or beg. He had life experience in the only one. "K-Know…as in those sketches? W-With hair?"

"Do you wish to know the truth?" The Entity apparently got stuck in time. It kept repeating one and the same sentence.

"I-I would like to see him before you destroyed him… whenever he came home… could…he…what do you want from us?" Dwight snapped, tears streaming down his cheeks.

"I want them…those emotions. I want them all together. What is this emotion between you? I want them all…"

That voice was soft, but terrifying. It  shook all the walls and floors. The whole space was shaking, maybe crumbling.

"I will tell you the truth. You will give me emotions. When you are together… how do you feel when you are together? What it is?"

Dwight feared each word. Although he was sure of that emotion yourself, but with Evan… it could have been anything and nothing.

How do I feel? To him? To Evan? I don't know… I'm happy when he's happy. When he holds me in his arms, when he pampers me, when he kisses me, when… he looks at me like I am his whole world…

I… do…love…maybe…

"Love…that the emotion."

"I will tell you the truth, you will give me your love. When connected into one, I want to be a part of it. Feel love…together."

Dwight swallowed as the claws melted around him. Three sketches were still flying in the air. He took them carefully in his hands and clung to his chest. "W-When he comes home…when Evan comes home, he takes on his home clothes…I-I want him to look like those. With hair and without hooks in the shoulder. No scars and burns on him. Like in the real world I'd like to…a normal human being. Person I would…l-l-love more…" He smiled as he imagined Evan with his hair as a normal person. The feeling in his chest…

"What…"

Dwight barely blinked and the Entity's claws or its existence was gone. He still clutched the sketches on his chest, but his wrist burned. It was a living nightmare, but it was over. Maybe.

Dwight ran up the stairs, hidding himself and his crying under a blanket. Hidden in a dark room, waiting for the master of the house to come. He felt asleep and still writhed the three sketches on his chest.

His aching wrist didn‘t give him a good sleep.

***

"You will be a good boss."

Dwight turned to an unknown voice. Behind him stood a man, his face shrouded in white light.

"But you could be an artist. You have a talent, boy."

Who are you?

An unknown man put his hand on his shoulder. He felt neither cold nor a warm touch.

"What ‘bout the expression? Smile, it's a beautiful day."

The lower half of his face appeared from behind the white light. Wide warm smile.

"Is somethin‘ botherin‘ you? Look, you can tell me. Hmmm?"

What are you talking about? Who are you?

"Oh! No way! Someone fell in love here! You can't hide that! I can see it on your face. Any tips and advice? I am listenin‘"

But I… d-don’t touch me!

"Complicated? Tsk, nothin‘ easy, ey? Sorry to hear that. And can you tell me who she is? Maybe I could help you."

I know the sign. You are a worker… of… that… as it is called…the estate…

"Haha, very funny boy. Don‘t forget that I am married man and have a grandson on the way."

What? What did I say?

"W-Wait…you…mean it? We can't do this. You know that very well. It’s wrong..."

But I know who you are! I know you! I saw you in the photo, in the sketch! You are one of them! You are the-

"No! Don't touch me! That's- disgustin', nasty!"

But I don‘t know!

***

Some hours later, Dwight woke up drenched in cold sweat. He could barely catch his breath, as if he was racing for his own life. He slowly recognized the flowing water from the bathroom.

"Evan?" He couldn't even speak properly. His voice shook. He lay back and hid under a blanket. He listened to the sound of dripping water as his heart returned to normal. It was harder than it seemed. The nightmare moved his guts too hard. As if it was a real memory. But it wasn’t his. He didn't recognize the whole face, though he only recognized part of it. Even that voice, although it spoke to him as an acquaintance. "I don‘t want…"

"Dwight? Are ya okay?"

Dwight winced when he heard a familiar voice directly above him. But before he could turn his head, he was overwhelmed by the heavy weight of Evan's body.

"H-Hah…"

"Don't worry, I'm already here. No one will hurt ya."

Hidden under a blanket, Dwight could barely move. He shook, but Evan's body couldn‘t be moved. Like a bear, Dwight thought. He removed the blanket from his face and let himself be kissed on the cheek. Tender, slightly wet kisses flickered on his face. Evan was warm from the shower and smelled nice. Not a trace of iron, oil and blood. Clean, with the scent of soap…now Dwight would be persuaded to do anything.

Literally whatever.

"Can I say now that you smell nice? Or is that some kind of a trick?" Dwight didn't have glasses, but he turned on his back and was completely absorbed in the weight of Evan's body. He touched Evan's wet face. "Welcome back home."

Something trembled inside Dwight as their lips met. Weird feeling. But so nice that he didn't want to ever stop.

"‘onestly?" Evan took a deep breath. "Probably the best welcome I've ever experienced." And he kissed Dwight deeply, with tongue into his mouth again. He removed the blanket from Dwight and clung to him completely. Dwight exhaled almost seductively as he felt Evan's wet naked body on him. All his perfect imperfection in his possession. The luckiest guy.

"Seriously? Better than standing naked in front of the door just in your shirt?" Dwight teased. He wrapped his legs around Evan's hips.

"Well, ya got m ethere…it's the same. Feelin‘ and lookin‘ at someone who is lookin‘ forward to your arrival and still rewardin‘ you for your hard work…like a dream." Evan's words were like pralines. Sweet, and with each word, as with piece, Dwight became more and more intoxicated. And more willing to do anything. Evan slowly took off Dwight‘s clothes. And even more slowly he began to kiss him on the cheek, on his chin, moving slowly down. Dwight was markedly hypersensitive on neck.

When it came to his quivering chest, Dwight felt something gentle between his fingers. Wet and gentle…on Evan's head…

"E-Evan… Evan! S-Stop it!"

He took his glasses from nightstand. Evan growled. "What?! What am I doin‘ wron‘?" If Dwight hadn't been surprised by his discovery, he would probably have been more frightened by Evan's growl. He was closer to the bear than he thought.

"You…you have…"

"What?!"

"Hair…and your skin is…good god…" Dwight could barely understand. Evan rose sharply and took heavy steps to the bathroom. There he looked at himself in the cracked mirror.

"Fuck! H-How..." Evan braided his new long-lost hair. He also examined his shoulders and arms. No burned and scarred skin. Not even any steel hooks in his shoulder. Only calloused hands and a scarred face.

As he was caught. Right after he blew up the whole mine with all his men inside. When his whole world collapsed.

"W-What did ya do?" Evan appeared in the doorway with horror in his eyes.

"I… I nothing… how could I…" Dwight didn't know where to look. Evan in all his perfection. He stood in the doorway in all his humanity, and Dwight had an overview of every single scar on his body. And there were several. But it was a dilemma. Looking into Evan's manly face, where the menacing-looking scar made him all the more dangerous, or his manly jewel, from which Dwight couldn‘t take his eyes off. Watering his mouth…His face turned red and he preferred to hide under a blanket. Evan caught him before he completely covered himself.

"Look at me!" He ordered him as he clung to him. It was incredible heat and pressure. "Look at me. Ya know who I am? Say it, say my name!"

Dwight barely stuttered a few letters. But he couldn't resist one. He touched Evan's face and hair again. Shaved almost briefly on the sides, thick fine black hair on top. He took it in palm and pulled on it very carefully. Evan hissed and bit his lip. To his torn lip, which Dwight wanted to bite into. His lips shook.

"E-Evan…MacMillan?"

"Do ya like what ya see? What do ya feel?"

There was no denying. Dwight felt on his stomach Evan's full erection. There was no denying that Dwight didn‘t feel the same. Only his erection was hidden between Evan and the blanket. Apparently the newly acquired human form aroused Evan so much that he was ready to get more. And Dwight wanted more. And wanted to offer more…

Dwight nodded cautiously in agreement and slowly rubbed against Evan. He could not suppress the cries of pleasure in himself. Only from pure touches of bodies…

"I want to hear ya. Say it…" Evan sighed in Dwight trembling neck and kissed him tenderly. Not once, not twice. Countless. He intoxicated Dwight to complete sensory failure.

"Yes…too much…"

Evan growled. It no longer sounded that scary. He incorporated a well-aimed bite into his tender kisses. Dwight clung to Evan's hair and rubbed it in all directions. He didn't notice that he was lying under Evan again. Suddenly he was without glasses again.

"And do ya want me? In the bad and the good? Ya know who I am, what I am. What I did, and to whom everythin'...everythin'-" So close to his face, only his green eyes could focus. If it was the last thing he saw…Dwight was ready for it…

"I want…everything?"

There is no way back.

Chapter Text

"I don't believe you." Dwight sat on Evan, dangerously close to his erection. He wanted to touch it so much.

"W-What? Why?" Evan shivered. He didn‘t expect these words. Not at the moment. Never. Embarrassment began in him.

"Just look at you! How is it possible that someone like you, with such a divine appearance and body…had no one in his life. I don't believe you're virgin." Dwight folded his arms across his chest and rolled his eyes. He would believe him if he claimed that he had no long relationship, that he only had short-term stuff. Quick fucks. But after he saw him, in his real human form, Dwight swallowed the very bitter saliva. If he was on average handsome, uninteresting, with a boring body, Dwigth would have no doubt. Then he looks into those green eyes again. He checked all of Evan's perfection from head to stomach as he sat on him.

"I was boss's son. Who do ya think will reach for son boss, who was not afraid to abuse his own family? They hated me. Hierarchically I was better than them. I wasn‘t equal to them…they fuck with each other. I was just…" Evan sat up, hugged Dwight around waist. "I wanted…ya have no idea how much I wanted to be… touched. Touched everywhere, loved. They didn't give me a chance. I was in chains."

Those green eyes were hard to resist. It was a different shade every now and then. Like moss, like deep forest, like poison. Dwight adored all of them. Dwight didn't want to get so easily. The feeling of unavailability slowly awoke in him. He didn't want to give Evan everything…just for free.

"Have you seen them?" Dwight began to play with Evan's hair. He liked the way his sides were shaved and something on his head that he could grab him for.

"Oh yeah. I-I saw them." Memories of the intimate intercourse he'd secretly attended, just as a secret watchman, sent a precise sense of desire right into his crotch.

Will you take me into hand, please?!

"And did you like that? Did that make you…horny?" Dwight's voice was quiet, almost as if he was tempted. Dwight never did this, and he loved every second of his domination.

"Kinda. I liked it. I was hidden, and I really wanted that, too." Evan bit his lip. How he hated and loved that memory.

"Did you want that too? Who did you want to be? The one who gives… or the one who receives?" Dwight felt Evan shiver. He liked his position more and more. As Evan shivered at his touch, he couldn't hide his growing smile. And with that scar, he wanted to touch it with tongue.

"I-I wanted to…" What to say? The idea was too intoxicating. As much as he wanted to be inside… him…he still longed to be touched and loved. Being owned and rewarded for good behavior. He had never experienced tenderness in his life, so he longed for it. "Both. I wanted to fuck him and be fucked. What are ya doin‘ to me?" Ashamed, trying to hide his face in Dwight's shoulder.

Dwight licked his lips. "Alright." He sighed in Evan's ear. Only now did he feel Evan really shake. "Do you like me whispering in your ear?" Of course he did. But Evan didn't say it out loud. But this would not be the case. They promised to say everything. Gradually, slowly, and carefully. "I want to hear it. Please. Say it to me. I just want to do good. For you." Evan still persevered, but little was missing. Dwight drew his secret weapon. "Evan, please. I want to make love to you… and I want to love you. Evan."

Evan literally collapsed psychologically. Sweat flooded him, blood rushing to his crotch and face.

"Y-Yes…" He replied in a low-pitched voice. As if Evan didn't say that. The two-meter bear with a scar not only on his face and poisonous eyes. A man who could step on Dwight and not have to try. Dwight rewarded him with a long kiss on the cheek.

"Good boy. That's how I like it." He stroked Evan‘s hair. At last, Evan lay down and revealed his stunted face. Dwight's heart pounded like a race. He never imagined that an inexperienced and adorable boy could hide in such a divine body.

And Dwight wanted to ruin it. Incredible obsession was born in him, darkening his mind for a moment. "Can I say something?" Dwight tilted his head and took Evan by the wrist. Evan nodded and swallowed. Dwight placed Evan's palm on his chest. "I've never felt the need to take someone before. I thought I was a weakling that only everyone would take advantage of. Now… I feel strong… only thanks to you."

He took Evan’s cock carefully. Evan shivered. Dwight's hand was cold. "So strong that I can tell you anything. Ask. About anything. I will answer." Evan writhed beneath him. He enjoyed those slow movements. His dick was getting harder. There was no need for saliva, it was wet enough. Maybe too much.

"W-Would ya give me a chance in the real world?" He suppressed a sigh as he looked at his member in Dwight's hand. He swallowed and narrowed his eyes. He waited patiently, and all efforts to maintain reasonable distance paid off. And now his reward has come.

Dwight laughed. "Evan, you're my type. Tall, strong, older than me, scary to look at and kind inside for me. Calloused hands, scars…" With one hand he still calmed him, with the other he touched the parts of the body that Dwight adored. "I would be lucky to die if you gave me a chance in the real world. A looser like me… "

Evan didn't want to listen. He sat down, which surprised Dwight, and took his cheeks in his hands. "No! Neither ya nor I. No looser…I'm not…ya're not…"

They looked into each other's eyes. Strength and pain, sadness and joy. Without another word, they kissed. They hugged and began to satisfy each other. The kisses were wet, chaotic, clumsy, wild, endless. Dwight was close, he had to wriggle out of Evan's grip.

"Lie down…I want to be on you." Dwight was determined but nervous. He had nothing to help himself with. "We have nothing…"

Evan quickly understood what Dwight meant. He reached over his head under the pillow. He pulled out a small tube. "T-This?"

Dwight frowned. "Where did you get it? You know…don‘t say anything. This will be enough. Give me your hand." It was a useless question. The answer was always the same.

The Entity. Who else?

He dripped the cold liquid on Evan's fingers. Evan swallowed. Dwight spread his legs. "Slowly… d-in and out. Your monster must fit me." Dwight licked his lips. It froze in Evan. If he could, he would take Dwight now. Without preparation, fill him raw. "O-O-Or s-should I show you? Y-You'd let me- " As soon as Dwight said that, Evan's face turned red.

"What?! Let ya what?" He shivered. He shook his head from side to side. He was obviously nervous. He didn't expect this to ever happen. That he could finally be pampered. He was afraid. He had never been loved before, let alone touched. Everything was new, unexplored. And he was scared.

This man…is nervous more than me. Kill me…I can't.

Dwight was aware of his power, though he didn’t wanted to abuse it. He imagined himself instead of Evan. I guess I'd be even more afraid.

"Evan," he said softly, smiling. "I trust you. And… if you're scared… it's okay. I don‘t want to hurt you."

"No! Silence… I…" Evan bit his lip. Dwight felt his trembling fingers on his hips. "D-Do it… b-but only with your fingers! You won't fit in with me." He ran his eyes nervously from side to side. He certainly wasn't looking at Dwight's erection. And he certainly didn't lick his lips.

Oh, me? Look at you! You can't fit me!

The gift from the Entity was more than appropriate. He dripped part of his fingers. He took a deep breath. He couldn't hide his shame, but the smile — perhaps a little forced — was adorable.

First fingers. Slowly, carefully. Evan's body swayed on the cold wave. Dwight was in no hurry. It gave Evan time to get used to a new, apparently never explored thing. To have someone inside you. It took an incredible dose of courage, desire and maybe even humiliation. Evan was different. Decrease to be touched and treated as someone smaller…

It's not like that. He can be as strong, big, ruthless as he wants… and still he wants it, he wants to be touched. And he wants me to do it. Me, of all he could choose.

"Talk to me, Evan. Tell me how you feel. I have to know I'm doing you good. And whether I should give you more. Breathe and enjoy it. Alright?"

Those words were exactly what Evan needed to hear. When he wanted to explore himself and his body… and wasn‘t allowed. And now when he was afraid to move…he tried to be strong, but he didn't want to be anymore. For a moment, he wanted to be weak.

"C-Cold. It's nicely cold. Y-Ya can do more." Evan shuddered. He was scared, but unknown. But he was sure Dwight wouldn't hurt him.

He trusted him. Like never before.

Second finger. Even slower, gently. Evan began to sigh louder. His body was tense. He almost rejected it. Dwight had to take Evan‘s hand. As their fingers intertwined, a black ribbon or twig wrapped around their wrists.

"This is good. Breathe, yes? You have plenty of time to get used to it. Relax. I won't hurt you if you relax. It's all about accepting it. You want it, don't you?"

Evan nodded. He had a tear on the edge of his eye.

"Don't be ashamed to say how you feel, what you want. I'm trying to show you how amazing you can feel. You trust me, don't you?"

"Y-Yes… I'm tryin‘…"

"Breathe and open up to me. There is no hurry, it's all about you. Everything is yours. Take the time you need. I'm with you." Dwight could write a book. He felt so proud of himself as he became a motivational speaker. It was at this moment that he literally had a monster in his hand, he felt powerful. And all those words helped Evan. Even his body. He let go, opened slowly.

He let him go deeper. Cold and warmth around him. Dwight started moving very slowly. Evan breathed loud and deep. As well as inhale and exhale, followed by exhalation and retraction. The rhythm was perfect. Evan's body accepted him.

"You are doing well. How are you feeling?" Dwight exhaled as he watched Evan's body shake gently. Then he looked Evan in the face. Half-closed eyes, open mouth, rose cheeks, dewy forehead, happy moans…

It was like a dream. A dream Dwight had every time he clashed with his type. The type of strong man who is already scary, strong, rich, and only for him will be a loving and caring dummy.

"Good…very good…c-can ya go faster? P-P-Please?" Those words couldn't be resisted. As if it wasn't the terrifying killer who was tormenting its prey in bear traps. He was just a confused boy who wanted to taste the most forbidden fruit.

"I can. Tell me if it's too much." Dwight added at a pace, and it was immediately clear that he was setting a fast pace. Evan shouted, gripping Dwight's hand so hard he almost broke his fingers. "I-I'm sorry-"

"Don't stop!" He shouted, tears welling up in his eyes.

Dwight swallowed and kept his pace. The combination of all possible movements created an intoxicating mixture that deprived Evan of the senses.

"There! Dwight, there!" Evan had no idea why or what. All he knew was that that feeling, that trembling, he wanted to feel again. And he begged for it.

Dwight licked his lips. Yes, he touched that place. And he began to attack it. Every move was aimed exactly there. Evan lost all inhibitions. That was what he wanted. He begged for it and was no longer afraid to beg, like the most wanted bitch. And with each blow, he got closer and closer to the climax.

"Here! Here! Push! Fuck me! Please! Don't stop!" These were such desperate bumps and pleas. It all made Dwight stronger, harder. How much he wanted to do, but he felt obligated to make Evan happy before himself. It was a drug, the more he pushed, the more Evan begged, and the more Dwight gained strength and desire to take everything Evan could give him.

"Exactly, Evan. Come on, I know you're close. Do it, show me how much you enjoy it."

I want to remember that. When will I get another chance? I want it all for myself… I just want it for myself… huh?

"Touch me! Make me! Please!" There was no need for more. Intoxication words Dwight wanted to hear. He took Evan's painful massive erection in his hand while moving his fingers in him. Evan was insane. Tears and saliva ran down his face uncontrollably. His mouth was open, tongue out of mouth, eyes up, almost out of…

There was nothing more he wanted, what he wanted more…

"Come on, Evan. Scream!"

And Evan shouted. He flapped his body in all directions. His climax was breathtaking. It's never been so exciting. And Dwight did it all to him. He finally did something that someone else was happy about. And more than that. He made him a wreck, in a good way. On the verge of insanity he achieved through patient work. And all that…

He tamed an untamed animal. From a ruthless fighting bear, within minutes he became a tame teddy bear with tenderness on his face.

Oh, if I had a camera, fuck my dick hurts.

His erection begged for atention. Immediate release. Whatever… but the power was unrelenting. The longer he suffered a painful erection, the more power he had over Evan. It was only imaginary, but it was so strong, longed for. He didn't want it to stop.

Evan's the erection did not disappear. Not even after such a wild orgasm. Evan writhed in a ball of intoxicating joy, though he took a deep breath, he didn't seem tired. On the contrary, he remained tough and hard.

Alpha… so… maybe I can…but this won’t fit.

"Do you want a break?" He asked hesitantly as he measured their two relentless erections. Only now did he notice the black ribbons around his wrists.

"No…never. I don't want this to end." Evan exhaled in one breath. As a male in heat, his endurance had no end. That excited Dwight. "Whatever ya want. Your turn. Anythin’."

Dwight had perverse ideas. How he would fuck Evan's mouth, cum on his chest, on his face. How he would make him swallow him. But he's done all this before. Dwight wanted more.

He wanted Evan in him, at all costs.

He put the cream in his hand and commanded him in a cold, superior voice. "Do what I did to you. But then I'll take your dick. I want to do it when you're in me. I'll be on you. Is it clear?"

Dwight felt weird. Too weird. He doubted for a moment whether he could afford this approach. Evan began to nod. He swallowed all his pride and obeyed. As if he ever did.

The habit… is an iron shirt.

He moistened his fingers and penetrated Dwight one by one. Dwight shuddered as his fingers touched his prostate.

"Mmm, more. Open me. This monster has to fit in with me." He touched Evan, making him tough again, just few touches. As he penetrated with the third finger. That was a lot, but Dwight loved it. "Ahhh, Evan, that's amazing."

From the point of view, Dwight was ahead. Both with the control of thoughts and with the manipulation of one's own body in the moment of the highest intimacy. Dwight had some experience. Unlike Evan, he saw at least porn and had some awareness of sex life. Maybe he wanted to try something, but he couldn't.

"I want you…" He sighed desperately. "Give it to me. Everything." Dwight took the rest of the cream and poured it on Evan's erection. "Can I?"

Evan visibly panicked. “R-Really? I don't want to hurt ya."

Dwight sat him down and prepared. "I will go slowly. Don't worry, you won't hurt me." He began to take Evan slowly. Pressure and strange pain followed. He was breathing deeply, concentrating, trying to relax. He did his best to gradually take Evan into himself. With a lot of cream and patience, he succeeded. It was like reincarnation. He had never felt so full before. Amazing feeling to be… complete. Evan moaned softly and tenderly beneath him. He held his hips, but tried his best not to move with him.

"How are you feeling?" Dwight sighed as he touched Evan's trembling chest. Only now did he really appreciate how powerful Evan really was. Or he only had small hands. Either way, he sat on Evan, had him deep inside him, and gradually adapted to his greatness. And it was all amazing.

"Warm…you're tight. Are ya okay?" Evan was adorable. A lovely smile, half-open eyes, it all indicated to one. Evan was like in a dream. Not just once, but after the second.

"Everything has its time, I'll get into it." He licked his lips and began to move slowly. It was painful at first, but as soon as they both tuned in to the same rhythm, everything was indescribable. Every movement and touch created a perfect symphony of feelings together. Dwight felt how Evan wanted to increase his pace, at least a little. He felt he could push. He waited so long for this moment. Hungry for it. And he only wanted it for himself.

The rhythm was perfect. Dwight lost his ability to think, completely immersed in sweet feelings as each of Evan's strokes aimed precisely at his prostate. He grabbed Evan's hands to lean in, but Evan made him lie down on him and kissed him. Evan adjusted his pace, and Dwight took it. He still had more power, but now he had succumbed to the euphoria Evan had given him.

"It's good? Am I good?" Evan begged for praise. All he wanted was what he asked for. Gentle words, that praise him for his actions.

"You are amazing. You make me feel so full. You have the biggest dick I've ever seen…the only thing I could feel. The best, strongest man I could ever have. I want you, Evan. Only you. Give it to me, everything. Give me yourself."

Praises were the fuel for Evan's predation. The pace was brutal, Dwight coldn’t catch his breath. It was too much. He couldn't do more, he couldn't go on. And he was so close…

"Ah! More!"

Dwight couldn't say more. The orgasm was approaching and there was no thought left for further praise. All Dwight could say was Evan's name. In all desperate tones. He yanked his vocal cords during orgasm. A wave of pleasure struck him and he fell exhausted at Evan, who was done right after him.

Dwight lost consciousness for a few minutes. He was awakened by a warm pain in his wrist. However, he didn’t pay much attention to it. Evan caught his attention with his tired face, which still didn't lose his smile.

"So what? How was it? First time…" Dwight listened to Evan's heartbeat. At times he thought it was his own.

"In only one word? Incredible…" Evan breathed. He almost laughed.

"Hmm, and when I say you were amazing…what was I like then?" But Dwight knew where to push to get what he wanted.

"More than amazing…more…everything."

You took all my shame… and hugged it…

"I took your virginity. And you finally became a man."

My man…

Evan took Dwight's words, perhaps too much to heart. After all of that…he became the man he always wanted to be. No monster or trash. No wreckage or disappointment. The normal man. And was finally proud of himself for doing something. Something good. Something that made someone happy.

"I guess I fell asleep. It was ride…" Dwight closed his eyes and hid his face in the pillow.

"It was… but if ya're happy…" And Evan also fell into a deep sleep.

Their hands were still joined. Not only were their fingers, but the black ribbon wrapped around their wrists grew larger. It looked more like a twig than a ribbon. When it dug deeper into their wrists, it took a few drops of their blood and then it fell apart. There was no sign of it or a deep cut in their wrists.

Innocence,virginity, love, desire, power. To be complete, to be free, to be oneself. Is it what makes monster a human or makes human a monster?