Return Ticket To Stockholm
Things The Likes Of Which You've Never Seen
I had another very nice review from a person who seems to promote kindness for the undead (have you ever considered the Fresh Start Club?). By "very nice", I mean the kind words (very encouraging, thank you) as well as the fact that it exceeded "Luv it, pls update". Again.
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Things The Likes Of Which You've Never Seen
Ryo couldn't say what had woken him up, but he opened his eyes to see a person looming over him, hardly more than a dark silhouette in the early morning twilight and yet clear enough for him to know.
Brennan.
Already?
"Look who's awake." The man bent forward while Ryo scrambled upright, pressing his back against the wall. "Good morning, Mr. Tailor," he said quietly, steadying himself with one hand against the wall next to Ryo's head. "You know what? Today I am carrying one."
Before Ryo's sleep-addled brain could make sense of that, the guy brought up his other hand, and in it, a gun- dark and shadowy in the dim light but unmistakable in its nature.
Instinctively, he tried to shrink away from it, but Brennan's arm was right there, keeping him in place.
Not really, right? Not like this.
The handgun almost seemed to slip up against his cheek of its own accord, hard and cold, but soon warming up to his skin. If it went off now, he would lose his ear, possibly go deaf from the noise -could it also blind him? Could bullet casings come flying out? He didn't know the first thing about guns- but at least that meant it wasn't aimed at him, it-
Brennan's thumb was trailing over his lips, cold from the gun or from being up before dawn, but it wasn't the temperature, it was the touch itself that made him shiver. He looked up at the man, only to be met with a stare of such strange intensity that he had to look away again.
"I thought you don't.... at home," he mumbled against the thumb.
"Quite right. I have an appointment, you see."
Straightening up and turning away, Brennan pushed the gun into a holster holding it securely against his back, before pulling a suit jacket over it. Heartbeat hammering loudly in his ears, Ryo could still feel the cold pressure on his cheek, the touch on his lips, as the guy walked away.
He didn't look back once while he talked to Blainn -who, strangely, seemed to be taking a jacket off-, too quietly for Ryo to hear over the noise of his own pulse, and then left.
It took him a long time to go back to sleep.
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"Hey, Blainn."
"Hm."
Looking over the back of the couch, Ryo could only see a shoulder and a patch of copper hair, and neither moved when he addressed the guy.
"Do you think I could have something to do?"
"'To do'?"
"Yeah. Anything. A book or a news paper or something? Hell, I'll take crossword puzzles."
There was literally nothing- nothing to look at, nothing to mess with, and Blainn seemed to sleep all day. Remembering what he'd seen that morning, Ryo thought it was possible that Blainn didn't necessarily sleep at night; that he was out and about taking care of other 'business'- and maybe he didn't actually sleep when he was lying on that window sill, either. In any case, he didn't move or speak much, and nothing else ever moved or made a noise.
It was so quiet that Ryo was starting to think the silence itself had a sound, and he could hear it. He wanted a book, a movie, something to lose himself in so he could forget, for a little while, where he was.
"Ain't no way you're getting a paper," Blainn grunted. "You can ask 'im, though."
Ryo didn't want to think about Brennan coming back, much less about talking to him, not to mention asking him a favor. Favors didn't come free, did they?
"Yeah, I can see how that'll go," he said bitterly. " 'Why don't you bend over while I think about it?' "
Blainn sat up with a tired groan and rubbed his hands over his face. "Even if," he said, his voice muffled. "So what?"
Excuse me? For a moment, Ryo was too baffled to come up with a response. The guy was seriously saying he should just give it up, like it was no big deal?
"That's easy for you to say," he said, at a loss for a proper rebuke. "It's not you who-"
Something in Blainn's face stopped him in mid-sentence, something in the way the guy's eyes narrowed and his mouth contorted into an ugly little smirk.
"You... you do."
Ryo hadn't taken the guy for gay, but now that he thought about it there had been no hints for the opposite, either. Blainn just hadn't come across as a sexual being, period.
So if there was something between him and his boss... oh, God. What did he think of ...? He'd just suggested Ryo should just submit to the man, but what if he did? Would Blainn be jealous? Was it that sort of thing between the two?
A scenario flickered through his mind wherein Brennan was going to get rid of him if he refused, and Blainn was ready to break his neck if he didn't.
Good God, new pitfalls opened up every time he looked.
"Fine, okay," he said weakly. "But that's hardly the same, is it? I mean, you don't have to."
Blainn's expression hadn't changed, was still mocking him, mocking itself, mocking life for being ugly.
He couldn't believe it.
"...What happens if you refuse?"
"I've never tried," the guy snarled. "He owns me, Rye. You don't fuckin' refuse."
Jumping off the window sill in one smooth movement, Blainn strode towards the door and pressed the button on something that looked like a little intercom.
Confused and alarmed, Ryo made to follow him, head reeling with all this sudden information and a whole new impression of Blainn. He would have to start over in his efforts to make sense of things, re-do his mental map of this place.
The most urgent thing right now, though, was that he seemed to have upset the guy, and he hadn't meant to.
"Get back there," he was hissed at.
Whoa.
Blainn had been civil to him so far, helped him out, but now Ryo was harshly reminded that the guy was shady and he'd known him less than two days. He froze.
Something in his expression made the redhead laugh a little.
"They ain't openin' the door if you're this close, Rye. Take a hike."
Confused but vaguely relieved, he retreated to the couch... and sure enough, the door unlocked with a soft click, and Blainn slipped out.
By the time Blainn came back, maybe ten minutes later, Ryo's mind was brimming with questions he didn't dare ask. There was something odd about the relationship between the guy and his boss; 'employer' didn't seem to be the right word anymore- Blainn had said he'd been 'taken in', like some sort of stray, and now it turned out he was... well, kind of a toy, really, wasn't it?
What scared him was that even Blainn, who didn't seem to be a captive in the strict sense of the word, had never dared refuse Brennan. Where did that put him, who was at the very bottom of the pecking order here? And just how bad was the man, if he had Blainn submit like that?
He owns me, Rye.
Fucking hell.
The redhead threw something his way as he walked past, something that landed on the couch with a soft *thump*. It was a little handheld video game, old and worn- so old, in fact, that the screen was in black and white, but it couldn't have been more welcome.
"Does that mean you asked him?" He hadn't expected Brennan to allow this- maybe the man was less of a monster than he'd thought.
"No," Blainn grunted, stretching out in the sun again. "He ain't in."
Oh. Nevermind. "Are you sure you can give me this, then?"
"We'll find out."
So the guy was willing to risk getting in trouble for him? That was... some of the people he'd called his friends wouldn't have done that. He didn't know what to say to this person he barely knew.
"Thanks, man."
"Mhm."
"Hey, Blainn?"
"I swear one of these days I'll cut your voicebox out an' eat it."
The threat was so absurd that it didn't faze him. "Did... Has anyone told you what the plan is?"
"Yep."
The answer made his heart skip a beat, and he stared at Blainn, willing the guy to open his eyes, talk to him, tell him something. To no avail.
"I take it you can't tell me." He tried to sound calm, but wasn't sure he did.
"Nope."
Yeah. And why was he asking, really? Chances were slim that it was something he wanted to hear.
"I probably wouldn't like it anyway," he said softly, more to himself.
Blainn didn't answer.
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Having this old thing, with its thin mono sound and tiny screen, was... no real relief, but still a blessing. If nothing else, it helped pass the time, stopped the seconds and minutes and hours from piling up on him and burying him under their weight- but also, he remembered the game, and it brought back vague memories. Not happy ones, per se -his life had never really been joyful-, but happier than his current situation, at least.
Would Brennan object? He felt a little queasiness in his stomach whenever his mind came back to that question. Would he be pissed? Blainn seemed to think it was alright to risk it, but honestly, he wasn't the one who was about to end up with a bullet in his head. Or in worse places, if Brennan felt like it.
Then again, he was likely to end up that way anyway, so what difference did it make?
Maybe it'll make the difference between quick and agonizing.
He tried to shake off that thought and concentrate on the little display.
He had just started a new level when the door opened and Brennan came in.
With a start and an odd wave of guilt, Ryo glanced at the redhead on the windowsill, who had stilled in a way that had nothing to do with sleep, and felt the urge to shove the thing under a pillow and pretend it wasn't there. Not that that was going to do any good; Brennan had already noticed it and would have found out about it sooner or later anyway. So he didn't, just turned it off and set it down quietly.
"I want you to pay Yuri a visit tomorrow," the man said flatly.
Blainn made a face, but his heart didn't seem to be in it. He just nodded.
He was crude and obnoxious, usually; in a cheerful sort of way. He was... nasty, there was no better word for it, and he took pride in being nasty. Now, though, his sneer was gone, as was his swagger . He looked younger when he slept; he looked even younger now, almost like a child- one that was expecting the worst.
"...I take it you have an explanation for this," Brennan continued, just as Ryo thought the tension in the room was going to make him snap.
"Yeah."
"It better be a good one." The man's voice never seemed to turn ugly, even as icy as it was now.
"I think so," Blainn said, quietly.
"My office. Now."
Brennan didn't move as Blainn slipped off the sill and walked past him. Ryo was watching the guy press the button and leave without looking back, nervous and wondering just how much trouble he'd gotten him into, and took a moment to realize that Brennan's stare was now fixed on him.
"He was just trying to be nice," he breathed before he could stop himself. "I asked him and he-"
"I don't remember telling him to be nice." The man came over to the couch, seeming more threatening with every step he took, and leaned down to where Ryo was frozen in place on the seat. "Please jog my memory, Mr Tailor. Did I, at some point, tell you to ask for anything you need?"
Unable to move or speak, he just stared.
He was pulled up by the collar of his shirt too fast to get a good footing, and while he fought for balance, Brennan shoved him backwards against the wall. Held in place by two fists grabbing his shirt, he could only think that this was it; he'd expected the worst of today anyway, and now they'd managed to piss the man off, on top of it. One way or the other, things were bound to get ugly.
"This isn't a fucking hotel, Mr Tailor," the guy snarled, inches from Ryo's face. "If you have trouble understanding that, I can help. I think I have an empty kennel somewhere."
It was strange how much being scared messed with your breathing -at a time when you technically needed it the most-, and being shoved against the wall like that hadn't helped matters.
"I didn't mean it like that," he panted softly.
The fists tangled in his shirt tightened, pulling it up further and exposing some of his stomach, but Brennan didn't even seem to notice. The man's gaze wandered from his eyes to his mouth and back, hungrily, as if waiting for something.
"No?"
It was unbelievable how one little syllable could sound so soft and so dangerous at the same time. Ryo's breath hitched.
He flinched and brought his hands up in defense when Brennan shoved the length of his body against him, but the man just caught his wrists and pinned them against the wall, holding them there with ease.
Well. You never thought you'd be a match for him, did you?
They were of similar height, he noticed, now that they were standing face to face for once. Which they weren't, not really, not with the way Brennan was almost burying his face in the crook of Ryo's neck, almost nuzzling him, so close that he could feel the guy's breath on his skin, but barely touching. Freaked out beyond belief, he couldn't seem to get his breath under control.
He could feel the man getting turned on, got to witness the transformation from not even there to fully hard as Brennan pressed against him, and his knees briefly threatened to give. The guy was either into terrorizing people or causing them discomfort or.. something had just happened to excite him, and nothing that had happened had been good, so Ryo wasn't feeling too hopeful.
He wasn't aroused, far from it -he might have felt disgust for the man, if he hadn't been so busy being scared- but when a knee pushed between Ryo's legs, forcing them apart and introducing unexpected friction to his dick, his body reacted with a tiny jerk.
It was barely more than a little tightening of his stomach, a minuscule pause in his breath, but Brennan had noticed and was evidently well aware of the cause.
The man moved his leg again, forcing it further until it was resting snugly against Ryo's groin, adding pressure to friction- but now that it wasn't a surprise, it was reasonably easy to suppress any reaction.
Brennan was watching him with a wolfish grin that turned his vaguely bland face into something altogether more handsome and dangerous, like a predator- sleek, beautiful and deadly. It suited him.
Transfixed, Ryo held the guy's stare. If this had been a movie -again with the movies, Ryo- and he in the audience, he might have swooned a little, like people often did over attractive villains... like he had, too. Then.
It was pretty damn frightening and not sexy at all to be confronted with the real thing.
Trying and failing to melt into the wall, Ryo considered his options. Well, 'options', that seemed a little optimistic- he didn't think he had any. It was more a matter of things happening to him.
Right now, rape seemed like a distinct possibility.
The brief, low growl coming from Brennan was alarming in its need and urgency. Surely, any minute now-
"I should just..." The man trailed off, tightening his hold on Ryo's wrists as he ground his erection against him.
Ryo lowered his eyes and tried to ignore the way Brennan's leg slowly rubbed against his dick as the guy moved. It wasn't painful, just, well, worrying. Foreboding.
Scratch that. Try 'fucking terrifying'.
A soft huff made him look up again, because it sounded... frustrated. Was that even possible? There was nothing stopping the man from taking anything he wanted, so why...? He had to be mistaken.
Brennan let go of his wrists and straightened, probably because he needed his hands for whatever came next. What would that be; would it hurt? More to the point, how much would it hurt? Mouth dry, Ryo tried to brace himself and knew that there were things he couldn't brace himself for.
Certainly not for this.
Brennan took a deep, slightly unsteady breath and ran a hand through his hair. "I believe I am expected in my office," he said- slowly, unbelievably stepping backwards.
And then he was gone, and Ryo huddled on the couch, trying to understand what had happened.
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There was no clock, so he didn't know how much time had passed when Blainn returned. Two levels of the game, but he had also been fidgety and shaky and had to start over several times. An hour?
The redhead was limping a little.
"Did... did you get in trouble?" Ryo asked, fully aware that he sounded like a six-year-old.
"Depends," Blainn said, flatly. "If you'd call a good ass-pounding trouble? Then yeah." Sneering a little, he added, "...though I reckon you would call it good fun."
Ignoring the slight -was he that obvious?-, Ryo bit his lip. "I'm sorry, man... I mean-"
"Do you get off on the idea that I got fucked up the ass because of you?" On his way to the window, Blainn stopped by the couch and bent down, his snarl inches away from Ryo's face. "That I get punished for helpin' you out? Does that get you hot?"
Speechless, alarmed, Ryo could only shake his head.
"Good," Blainn grouched, somewhat mollified. "Cuz it ain't like that." Definitely wincing a little, betraying the fact that he was hurting more than he let on, he pulled himself up on the sill.
"What do you- I m-"
"It woulda happened, Rye," the guy clarified, curling up in the afternoon sun with a little sigh. "It ain't about you."
"Does he... do you always... hurt like that?" It didn't bode well for him, did it?
"He got a little carried away," Blainn said with a yawn. "Seemed kinda... pent up, y'know?" Mistaking the guilt on Ryo's face for sympathy, he scoffed. "Normally, no. An' I still got off. 'S all good."
Of all the things... he hadn't expected that. "So... no problem? Wasn't he angry?"
"Well, some," the guy conceded.
"What did you tell him?"
"Wha' I thought."
Did that go any deeper than 'I felt bad'? It had to; Ryo couldn't imagine Brennan finding that an acceptable explanation. "What do you... um, think?"
The faintest smirk ghosted over the redhead's sleepy face, not amusement so much as outright rejection. "I said I tole him wha' I thought."
And that, as they say, was that. For once, Ryo was certain that the guy was, in fact, asleep- his slight snoring gave it away.
He played his game until the batteries gave out.
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Nothing else had happened all day, Ryo thought, fiddling with the temperature. That fact was something that kept popping up in his mind, given how sure he'd been he wouldn't live to see nightfall, much less the next morning... yet here he was.
It had to be going on noon, now, and still nobody had been by to end his insignificant existence, so he'd decided to take a shower- Blainn had left a little while ago, and the batteries in the handheld were dead, so he had nothing else to do.
He was going to shower until the water ran cold.
He was alarmed to find Brennan sitting in the armchair, and even more so to see a knife on the table. It was a plain one, not too big and without any frills, just a blade and a handle.
A no-nonsense knife. One that meant business.
"Don't look at me," Brennan shrugged. "It's not mine. I don't do knives." He jerked his head towards the other side of his chair, and Ryo realized Blainn was squatting there and re-lacing his shoes. "He's the expert around here."
Blainn, his face grim, ignored him. Something was off.
It was the first time he'd seen Blainn with shoes, Ryo realized. He wasn't sure why this was. And now that he saw them, they turned out to be heavy boots, ugly ones. Their purpose was function, and function only.
"Of course, I could," Brennan said, instantly getting Ryo's attention back to the knife.
The way the man picked it up and idly played with it, watching him with a strange expression, was unsettling. Ryo was reminded of a rabbit again, or was it mice after all?; he could not look away from the shiny thing that looked so small yet promised a world of hurt. He took a trembling step backwards when Brennan stood and walked towards him, but the hypnosis seemed to hold and he stood still as the man stepped behind him, softly touched his jaw, pushed his chin upwards with the flat side of the blade.
The fingers trailing his exposed throat were gentle, but all he could think about was the metal pressing against his skin.
"You would think that a knife is a pretty basic tool, almost primitive," the soft, scary voice hummed into his ear. "Just look at it."
It was taken from his throat and brought up to where he could see it, replacing one fear with another as it was pointed straight at his face. The tip, inches from his eyes, left little room in his head for anything else.
"See, this is what you cut with. This end, you can use to stab. And to me, that's all there is to a knife."
Which was quite enough, Ryo thought. Especially for the recipient.
"Boss." Blainn's voice was flat, but his face was full of... of something Ryo couldn't read, maybe distaste, maybe anger, maybe disapproval. Something negative, definitely. But who was it directed at?
"...But I am told I'm an amateur, when it comes to knives," Brennan grinned. He let the cold metal touch Ryo's cheek and trail down it. "Apparently, you can develop great skill with them, and I haven't."
"Boss," Blainn said again and came over, scowling, not looking at either of them.
":..So I leave these things to the experts," Brennan murmured, handing the knife over. "That's what I hire them for, right?" His fingers ran up Ryo's throat again, even as he addressed Blainn. "Let him live, will you?"
The guy scoffed. "I could save you some hassle, boss. I don't know why you keep him around."
Ryo held his breath and hoped they weren't talking about him. It seemed awfully random, he hadn't been of any use yet that he could see; also knives were messy and this was a nice place, so he thought he had room for hope. But he wasn't sure.
"He has his uses," Brennan replied, his lips brushing Ryo's ear. "I know your stance on this, but you know mine."
He really hoped they weren't talking about him. The thought of sharing a room with someone who wanted to do away with him, argued with his employer about doing just that, was too chilling.
Blainn gave a disdainful grunt in reply, but didn't argue, and bent down to slide the blade into the shaft of his boot.
Whew.
"Blainn has a meeting with someone... from his past." The voice in his ear was breezy and a little amused as they watched the guy shrug into a jacket and march over to press the button on the intercom. When the lock clicked open, he slipped out, stormfaced, his head held low.
That left them alone, and Ryo was acutely aware of the man's breath on his skin, hot, and not the good kind of hot, either. Now that the knife was gone, literally gone, he wanted to withdraw, but Brennan -possibly sensing that- took a hold of his hand and twisted it, kept him in place with the guarantee of pain if he moved. If this had been a mugging, maybe, or something else with a chance of getting away, he might have risked it; he wasn't this much of a wimp; it was just... there was no point to it. He could struggle for the sake of his own dignity, but it wasn't going to make a difference.
A sudden sting in his neck made him yelp, as much from the surprise as from the pain itself. Brennan had bitten down, hard, in the soft spot where neck met shoulder, and he was slow to let go, apparently enjoying the way his teeth were digging into the skin.
Sure enough, there it was again, the hard bulge rubbing against him. God, why? Why did he have to fall into the hands of a sadist?
His hand was being twisted in a way that made him want to follow forwards and a little sideways, but Brennan's other arm was slung across his chest, keeping him upright, pushing him into the pain. Funny how something so harmless could hurt so much. What did that say about the actually harmful things?
Brennan twisted further, making him draw a sharp breath. Oh, fuck, that hurt.
"Amazing, isn't it," the man said casually, "how much pain and pleasure sound alike?" He nuzzled Ryo almost affectionately, as if he wasn't about to break his wrist. "We should try one or the other, don't you think? Or maybe both?"
Ryo had a strong feeling that 'pleasure' wasn't going to be a big factor. Not for him, anyway. "You don't even know if I'm gay," he said weakly, just to say something for once.
"I don't see how that's relevant," came the calm reply, chilling Ryo to the bone. "But as a matter of fact- when we first met I was rather under the impression you wanted to ask for my number."
Ryo's ears turned red with embarrassment, a fact that, thankfully, Brennan wasn't aware of as he was nuzzling the bite mark. Fuck, that was a little sore. Would it bruise? ...Would it have time to bruise?
So, yes, he'd been vaguely interested, those three minutes in the gas station. Nobody could take that to mean he wanted this, right? He could just see the man telling him he'd been asking for it, or some such bullshit.
"Well, Mr Tailor," Brennan said, letting go, "it's been a pleasure talking to you, as always. I would love to stay and continue our conversation, but I'm afraid I have, ah... other engagements."
By the time Ryo had uncurled his hand, wincing as he did so, he was alone.
So what had been the point of this, then? Why wouldn't the man just take what he wanted? It was hard to believe that he honestly couldn't make time; hell, just now he'd spent more time talking than he would have needed to get off, if he'd wanted to. There had to be a point to this. Was Brennan trying to wear him down until he submitted, like Blainn did? But why would he bother? It had been quite clear that the man was perfectly happy to force himself on Ryo, no submission needed.
He couldn't figure it out.
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Blainn came back disheveld and in a distressingly foul mood, driving the point home that Ryo had only seen his cheerful side so far. His jacket was open and his shirt dotted with dark stains, stains that were alarmingly...red. Dark red, half dried.
He didn't think of himself as any kind of expert, but somehow he'd expected the result of, uh, knife-work to be more, well, more ...spread out, larger stains maybe, in short, more blood. These were sprinkles. Splatters. Could you do that with a blade? Maybe nick a main artery and stand in the spray?
Fuck, the stuff this place had him thinking about-!
Not one to handle tension well, Ryo ventured to say something, even thought he didn't know what. It hardly mattered, as he never made it past the first, as-yet-undefined syllable.
"Just fuckin' zip it," Blainn snapped, throwing the shirt in a corner and stomping off towards the shower. "I ain't asked for your goddamn opinion."
One look at the guy was enough to make Ryo shut up. His face was murderous, ugly and hateful in a way he hadn't yet seen, and for the first time Ryo saw him for what he was: dangerous. Someone who roughed people up; who had to be told not to kill.
He was pretty sure that Blainn wasn't going to kill him -if only because Brennan hadn't said to-, but he didn't want to get on his wrong side, not this only person who even seemed vaguely sympathetic to him... well, that, and he was scared.
His only human contact -hell, his only contact, human or otherwise- consisted of a guy who came home with other people's blood on him, and a potential rapist.
Splendid.
What the hell were they up to?
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