Ivan Kosin

May 6

Kosin turned over in his cell. The floor was cold, and damp. His blanket was thin, but it was better than the filthy mattress that was his other choice. He wondered when the holding cells had gotten this bad. It wasn't prison, after all. Innocent men sat in these rooms. He pulled his shirt closer around him. In the car last night, he'd put on another patch, but the efficacy was gone now - it had to be almost eight in the morning. The pain was unbearable, and for a moment, Kosin wondered if something was wrong. He hung his head between his knees and tried to breathe slowly. For a minute, he wished that he'd stayed at the CEC after all. At least then he wouldn't feel this. Somewhere down the hall, keys jangled and the sound of footsteps grew close. The MPs were coming.

They'd questioned him last night, briefly, but they had still been playing the we're-all-friends-here game, and so they hadn't been too overt. They had made it clear, however, that whatever plans Kosin had for the weekend, he should cancel; he wouldn't be going anywhere anytime soon. That had frightened him. Interrogation didn't frighten him; pain meant nothing. Discovery - now that was a different story.

The younger man, who Kosin now knew to be Chief Deputy Malcolm Lawdon, was standing outside of his cell.

"Get up. Come with me."

He made it sound so easy. Kosin tried to move, but had to stop as the pain overwhelmed him. Lawdon watched, waiting patiently for Kosin to get to his feet of his own accord.

They hadn't handcuffed him, and Kosin wondered momentarily at their stupidity. He knew these woods as well as anyone - if he could make a break, he wouldn't need a car to make his way home in these mountains. Or maybe they knew he wouldn't run. Couldn't, at this point. Maybe they knew more than they let on. Lawdon walked close to him, though - almost flush up behind him and Kosin wondered if that was to keep him from escaping or to keep him from falling again.

By the time they made it to the interrogation room, Kosin could barely stand. He grabbed onto Lawdon's shirt sleeve.

"I just - I need to sit down for a minute."

Lawdon looked down at him.

"You can sit down inside. We're here."

He opened a door to their right and dragged Kosin inside. Two deputies were leaning against the glass wall; Lawdon jerked his thumb at them.

"Out."

They went, and Lawdon guided Kosin over to the chair facing the glass wall. Kosin collapsed into it, curling in on himself. Lawdon walked around to the other side of the table, but didn't sit; instead, he leaned over it to watch Kosin.

"I need - I need my - "

"What do you need?"

"My backpack." he gasped out.

The chief frowned.

"I can't give that to you. Do you need a doctor?"

Kosin shook his head furiously.

"No. No, I just - " his head was swimming. He couldn't think straight. "I just need my bag."

Lawdon shook his head.

"I'm going to get you a doctor."

he began to leave, but Kosin grasped his arm, desperately, to stop him.

"No! No! I just need - "

"Oh, fuck."

Lawdon wasn't listening to him anymore; he was staring at Kosin's groin. Kosin followed his eyes to where a dark stain was rapidly spreading between his legs.

"No."

"You're bleeding."

"No I'm not."

It was a stupid answer, but Kosin didn't care - his thoughts were a muddle. All he could figure out was that Lawdon was figuring things out. The chief stared at him with those deep, black eyes.

"You're a carrier."

"No!" he had to take a good breath to even his vision out again. "I'm not!"

Lawdon glanced up at him for a second.

"OK. Ok. You need to see a doctor."

"No, please."

"The nearest one is thirty miles. What do you need until then?"

Finally, the man was listening to sense.

"My bag - my pain patches - they're in my bag. Please."

Lawdon nodded gravely and turned to go. Then, having second thoughts, he turned back, cuffed Kosin to the chair, and left.

Mercifully, Kosin was too focused on the pain to even think about what had just happened.

~

On the other side of the glass, the older MP, the sheriff, was waiting when Chief Malcolm Lawdon came charging in.

"What do I do?"

The sheriff turned, looking calmly over his young charge.

"What do you want to do?" he drawled.

Malcolm looked torn between guilt and panic.

"I don't know."

The sheriff shook his head.

"I can't make the decision for you."

Lawdon thought about it for almost five seconds.

"I want him."

The sheriff moved a wad of tobacco around in his mouth.

"Well, alright."

"What do I do?"

"Take him his meds." the sheriff nodded towards the glass wall. "Boy's in agony."

"And then?!"

"Lock the door and call his daddy."

~

Kosin couldn't remember most of the morning, but when he came to a little after noon, he was lying on a bed and the pain was gone. He sat up and his wrist caught - he was handcuffed to the bedpost. He looked around - no one else in the room, no personal effects, no television. Nothing but a bed, lamp, nightstand and clock. This was probably a spare room, then, for overnighting at the station. Was he still at the station? He couldn't be sure, but he guessed so. He checked himself for injury. None, but someone had undressed him - he was wearing a pair of loose fitting sweatpants and a too-large uniform shirt. He lifted the hem of his shirt - a new pain patch. He pulled back the band of the sweatpants. New underwear, too. And padding, for where he was still bleeding. Fantastic. Kosin let his head drop back against the pillows. It was time to make a new plan.

He had about ten minutes to himself before the door opened. A young, nervous-looking deputy was in the doorway.

"Oh. Good. You're awake." he conspicuously avoided looking at Kosin, choosing instead to stare at the floor, his shoes - anywhere but at the carrier handcuffed to the bed. "I'll uh, I'll just get you out of here." He approached the bed and unbound Kosin. "You're wanted outside."

Kosin looked suspiciously at him.

"I'm wanted?"

The boy nodded.

"Yeah. Um, your father's here."

Unbelievable, Kosin thought to himself. This situation just kept getting worse. The death pit of emotion he felt at every thought of his father swirled around inside of him - rage, anger, fear, pity, hatred, and the overwhelming pain of rejection. Kosin cleared his throat, hoping to sound gruff.

"What is he doing here?"

The boy unlocked the handcuff from the bedpost and snapped it around Kosin's other wrist.

"Chief Lawdon called him."

Kosin's suspicion grew.

"What for?"

The boy glanced, embarrassed, up at Kosin's face, then down again.

"I think he wants to marry you."

~

He had tried to steel himself for the inevitable shock, but nothing could really ever prepare him. Kosin hadn't seen his father in years, had managed to keep enough life and distance between them to give himself at least a sense of refuge, of safety in the knowledge that the old man was far, far away. That singular comfort existed no longer. Please, Kosin begged, I will do anything. I will say anything to anyone. Just please make this a mistake. Please don't tell me he's here. Please don't make me see my father.

Then the deputy swung the office door open, and Nicolas Kosin looked up with only vague interest at his newly-changed carrier son.

"Hello, Ivan." his father drawled, and even from the doorway where he stood, Ivan could smell the familiar burn of alcohol on his father. "It seems you've finally become of some use to me."

Kosin tried, he really did, but his legs were leaden suddenly, and too heavy to move. His father looked up at him again, and now that familiar madness was back in his eyes.

"Ivan." he said. "Don't be difficult."

Ivan walked numbly to the chair beside him and sat.

The sheriff, sitting in the lone chair across from their two seats, tried to smile warmly at him.

"Well, Ivan - " The sheriff pronounced his name eye-van, and for a brief moment, Ivan wanted to surge across the table and slap a correction across the man's face. He stared straight ahead instead.

"It appears you have a choice. You can either be transported to the local CEC, or you can be released into your father's custody."

"CEC, please." Ivan answered immediately.

"Ivan." his father's voice had that dangerous fringe to it - that anger that Kosin knew well. He shut his mouth immediately. From the chair closest to the door, Chief Malcolm Lawdon observed this interaction with a thin-lipped gaze. Nicolas Kosin turned back to the sheriff.

"Ivan would be more than happy to remain in my custody."

The sheriff looked to Ivan for confirmation or protest, but all he got was a blank stare. He raised an eyebrow.

"Well, if that is the case, then I expect the rest of this paperwork belongs to Chief Lawdon." he turned to the younger man. "Malcolm?"

Malcolm Lawdon made his way over from across the room and exchanged seats with the sheriff. Nicolas Kosin eyed him warily.

"There's a contract." Malcolm began, succinctly.

"I've read the contract." Nicolas snapped. "So these terms that you've laid out - "

"What terms?" Ivan interrupted, then saw stars and felt the blow as the elder Kosin hit his son so hard that Ivan temporarily lost his balance in his chair. When he got back up, Malcolm Lawdon had that same thin-lipped frown on his face again. Ivan's father just glared him.

"Don't interrupt, Ivan. It's rude."

Kosin sat shakily down in his chair. Nicolas indicated Malcolm Lawdon.

"This nice man here would like to take you off my hands." Nicolas Kosin said amiably. Then he leaned in to hiss at Ivan. "So don't you dare ruin this one for me, too."

Ivan just stared straight ahead. Nicolas Kosin went calmly back to his conversation.

"As I said, the terms. They're firm?"

Lawdon glanced at Kosin, then nodded.

Nicolas raised an eyebrow.

"They're almost too generous, Mr. Lawdon."

Lawdon exchanged a look with the sheriff, then nodded.

"That they are."

"I'm wondering what the catch is."

"There is none."

"Then I'm wondering where you got the money."

Lawdon's expression cooled even further.

"I don't know that it's any of your concern."

"Could be if it isn't your money."

"It's mine. I assure you of that."

Nicolas Kosin shrugged and raked his eyes down the page.

"I'd like a deferral of custody clause added. You get sick of him, I'm not paying to take him back. That's your responsibility, to find a new place for him."

Lawdon's ears grew pink, but he nodded.

"Done."

Nick Kosin raised a skeptical eyebrow and looked at Lawdon, then at Ivan, then back at Lawdon.

"Well, damn. Did he suck your dick already?"

Lawdon recoiled and Ivan just closed his eyes and wished he was somewhere else.

"Mr. Kosin, I assure you that - "

"Oh, come off it. I know my son. He's cute enough, but he's a spoiled little fuck. Can't see a reason a decent man would want him. What'd he promise you if you did this?"

Lawdon shook his head.

"Nothing. He - "

Kosin's father interrupted, already marking his signature on the first page.

"Well, it's your funeral. Anyway, it's just that we've been through this situation before, so to speak. The logistics were a little different back then. Price was a little lower. Lucky thing you are, Ivan - you're appreciating in value."

Ivan had thought he couldn't be any more sick than he was, but that did it. He snapped his gaze around to look at his father.

"What?"

Nicolas Kosin signed the second page and looked right back at him.

"What?"

"You said - we did this before."

Kosin signed the third, then the fourth page.

"The general, Ivan? I'm sure you remember him."

Ivan's stomach lurched. Don't let it in, don't let it in.

"You di - I was - "

Nicolas signed the fifth page, then the last. Lawdon watched him do it.

"You what?"

Ivan couldn't even bring himself to say the words; an irrational loyalty to his father kept him from wanting to bring trouble on the half-mad old man. They were in a police station, after all. But the fear of speaking didn't stop him from thinking it. I was seven, he said in his head. I was seven years old.

Nicolas Kosin got to his feet.

"Well, gentlemen? Shall we?"

Lawdon, who was now clutching the papers tight in his hand, as if they might fly away at any moment, made a face of utter confusion.

"I'm sorry?"

"Your doctor - where is he? Let's get this done so I can get back to my work. I've got very important guests coming this evening."

Kosin laughed inside his head. His father had no guests, important or otherwise, coming. He hadn't had a friend in twenty years.

"Get what done?" Lawdon was beginning to regard his father with the kind of expression one might reserve for a man speaking entirely in gibberish.

"The claiming! He's no good if you lose him, you know. And mark my words, if you give him half an inch, that boy will run. He goes to ground like a rabbit at the first sign of trouble. You leave him alone for ten minutes, unclaimed, and he'll be gone faster than you can blink. I want this done before I leave."

Exactly what it was his father was demanding began to sink in for Kosin.

"Dad, I won't - "

Nicolas turned to him, that surge of insanity back, glinting in his pupils, and began to reach for his son. Malcolm Lawdon slammed his hands down on the table.

"DO NOT!" he shouted, before regaining control over himself and continuing, "…touch my carrier."

Nicolas paused in surprise, then laughed.

"You haven't paid for him yet."

"Contract's been signed. He's mine. You touch him and that's assault. You want to spend a few nights here, Nick?"

The pointed way the chief called Kosin's father by a diminished version of his name made Ivan want to laugh out loud. He controlled himself and kept silent. Lawdon calmed down, relaxed back into the chair and exchanged a look with the sheriff.

"As I was saying. We've got no doctor on staff here. Had to call in to Gatlinburg just to figure out what to do with him. They said he'll be fine; doctor won't get to us until tomorrow."

Nicolas Kosin narrowed his eyes.

"Then we'll do it the old-fashioned way. Round up a deputy and we'll have three witnesses."

Lawdon's face went from shocked to deeply disturbed.

"Mr. Kosin, I - "

Suddenly, Kosin's father was in Malcolm Lawdon's face, teeth bared, eyes dim with anger.

"This gets done, Lawdon. I'm not walking out of here with a contract that becomes meaningless in an hour when you lose my rat of a son! You do this, or l remove my carrier from these premises and I start exploring other options."

Kosin's stomach lurched at the thought of spending even one more second in his father's care. Malcolm Lawdon sneered.

"Bullshit. The papers are signed, and you can't reclaim him."

Nicolas' face grew pinched and angry.

"Under the - "

"Chief Lawdon."

Both men looked down at him. His father's eyes held a warning, but Nicolas Kosin didn't make a move towards Ivan. Kosin swallowed and tried to shore up some courage.

"It's a provision of the Lagerfeld Act; the revision of the Carrier Claiming & Custody Act."

Kosin should know. He'd written that act. When it had passed, his father had sent him a note telling him what a stupid idea it was for him to be wasting his career as a paper-pushing bureaucrat.

Nicolas Kosin regarded his son with an expression somewhere between annoyance and malice.

"Get up and go, then. Since you know so goddamn much, you should know that we're just wasting time now."

Ivan stood up, intentionally not looking at anyone else in the room. Lawdon shook his head.

"No. We'll either wait for a doctor or - "

"Act only gives 12 hours."

Lawdon stared at Ivan, then looked to the sheriff. Then, finally, he looked at Nicolas Kosin.

"He's not even finished changing yet - I could hurt him."

Nicolas glared accusingly at the sheriff.

"You told me he was more than halfway through."

The sheriff shrugged.

"He is."

"Then there shouldn't be any permanent damage. Go on, Ivan."

Lawdon glanced at Ivan, who was still staring at nobody in the room.

"No." he said, firmly. "I can't do it."

Kosin's father moved forward as if to snatch up the contract which was lying currently on Malcolm's desk.

"Then give him back to me."

Ivan tried to remain firmly non-reactive, but the fear must have shown on his face, because Malcolm Lawdoon took one look at him and changed his mind.

"No! I'll - " the man swallowed, and looked again at Ivan. "I'll do it."

~

They came to the back bedroom where Kosin had earlier been sleeping. Ivan went through first. Malcolm went just behind him. Inside, three deputies had already been lined up, and were waiting, their eyes trained on the clock on the wall. Nicolas Kosin stepped up to the doorway, but Malcolm's hand on his chest stopped him.

"We have three."

Mr. Kosin jutted his chin out.

"Hmph."

Lawdon just stared at the man for a long, angry minute.

"You're his father." he hissed.

"All the more reason." Nicolas Kosin sneered right back at him.

The door closed behind them. Kosin was standing by the bed, also staring at the clock. For a moment, Malcolm was struck by the absurdity of the entire situation.

"I - come here."

Ivan did, but still didn't look at him. Malcolm gestured to the deputies.

"Around."

All three turned to face the wall.

"Earplugs."

Each of them took a set of earplugs from their pockets and put them in, then put a set of silencing headphones over them. Ivan spared a look towards the men.

"Act says nothing about the manner of witnessing." Lawdon pointed out. Kosin shrugged. Lawdon frowned at him. "Look, I don't want to hurt you."

Kosin shrugged.

"You won't."

"You're not...fully developed." Kosin wondered how it was that Lawdon could be so sure of that, then realized that it was probably he who had cleaned him up. Humiliation burned his ears. He shrugged.

"I'll be fine."

Lawdon shook his head, and Kosin nodded to counter it and lowered his voice.

"There is nothing you can do to me that will hurt worse than the things I've already had. Just do what you have to." he looked up at Malcolm, into the swirling depths of those black eyes. "But please don't leave me with him."

Malcolm stared at him for a minute, and then nodded and pointed Kosin to the bed. In a quiet voice, he said,

"Undress and get in the bed."

Kosin did, kicking the borrowed clothes to the side, disgusted to see that already he was beginning to stain his underwear with blood.

Lawdon was quick about getting them started - he did nothing unnecessary, no touches meant to feel familiar. It was just the way Kosin liked it - fast, and silent. Lawdon didn't even seem to notice the three other men in the room. After a few seconds, it seemed to be time - Kosin lifted his legs to wrap around the man's waist and felt a pang suddenly for how long it had been since he'd been required to do this.

Lawdon shook his head and moved Kosin's legs into a different position. Ivan shrugged and complied.

"I'm not going to penetrate you."

Kosin shrugged.

"It's fine if you do. I'll heal."

Malcolm frowned.

"I don't want to hurt you like that. I - I don't want to hurt you at all."

Kosin shook his head.

"If this hurt me, I'd have been dead a long time ago."

Malcolm let horror flicker over his face for just long enough to make Kosin exhale in annoyance.

"Sorry. I didn't - I didn't mean to kill the mood."

Malcolm stared at him.

"I can't do this."

"No!" Kosin grasped desperately at his shoulders, tightening his legs around the man's waist. "No, please. You can't leave me with him."

Malcolm exhaled and dropped his forehead down to touch Kosin's shoulder.

"Fine. But no more talking."

Ivan nodded obediently.

"Do you want me to cry?"

Malcolm blinked at him.

"What?"

"For them." Kosin jerked his head towards the door, outside of which his father and the sheriff were waiting. "Do you want me to make sure they hear?"

Malcolm sighed and shook his head.

"I don't - I don't want you to do anything. Just...lie still."

Kosin nodded and Malcolm gently unhooked the legs from around his back, then stretched out to be more comfortable, balancing his weight on his left arm. Half-lying on Kosin, he began to jerk himself off with his right hand, moving upwards to position himself perfectly. He closed his eyes to do so, and Kosin felt momentarily insulted, but damped it down and was just grateful he wouldn't have to ever go home with Nicolas Kosin again. Briefly, he worried about his jeep. Was it still there? Had someone come for it? Malcolm was groaning softly, preparing to cum. Kosin felt guilty - he should be helping in some way, shouldn't he? But he'd been explicitly told not to. Better not to disobey. Malcolm gasped a little, then moaned - the only warning he gave before shoving his cock flush up against Ivan's cunt and cumming.

"Fuck. Fuck." he held himself there for a few seconds, half-thrusting against Ivan. "Fuck." he opened his eyes, rubbed one hand over them, and pulled himself away. Ivan took this as his cue to move - the sheets beneath him were damp with blood and cum.

"It's done." Malcolm called out to the closed door and the deputies, sitting up in the bed and reaching for a corner of the sheet to wipe his cock with. "It's finished."

~:~