Chapter 4
That night was quiet. They were resting on the bed facing each other when Miles' wrist began to redden and swell with blood, this time he didn't choose to grit his teeth and bear it, instead he hesitated for a short while and then spoke softly, "My wrists hurt."
Hobie took his wrist and began to gently knead it, "Does that feel better?"
"Yeah...continue, please?"
Hobie's fingers pressed against the bruised and swollen spot, a little to get the blood circulating: "My bad. Should've been more careful."
"No, it's alright... I mean it, it doesn't hurt anymore--but don't stop okay? It's--it's like hurt a bit, but not that much--"
Miles was in a deep conflict; he didn't want Hobie to worry, but at the same time he didn't want the other man to not worry--as he said, conflicted.
"Yeah, I get it." and Hobie doesn't care.Anything that makes his boy feel better, he's gonna do it.
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"Day 7
"Please select a task for a follow-up experiment:
Truth or Dare?"
The rules of the game changed a bit today. Miles stared at the two options offered to them, a boring game that would usually take place at a party or in a bar, not that he had ever participated in it, but it was usually how it was played in ...... movies.
"What do you think?"
Miles looked to the source of the voice: "What do you mean, what I think? Of course no dare! Who knows what it'll ask for . . what if it wants us to kill each other? And judging by the past few days, it's highly likely--"
"Huh. Don't know, could be fun--" Hobie still sounded reluctant to give up, and it was only when Miles gave the other man's arm a firm squeeze of denial that he realized Hobie was only joking.
"So no dare. no."
"Truth it is. "Hobie gently agrees with Miles' choice, releasing his grip on Miles' hand at the moment the words change in the air: "Watch it, Miles. Sometimes, truth hurts."
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Please choose between the following tasks:
"A, describe your first killing in detail. Who, when, where, how."
"B, describe your last time masturbating in detail. Who, when, where, how."
"You have 10 minutes to finish. If fail, you will be randomly eliminated."
Hobie shrugged, not having to turn around he could think of how shocked and confused Miles looked at the moment.
Like he'd said, TRUTH HURTS.
"I'll go first, I guess," Hobie said as he walked over to the chair behind Miles and sat down, their backs to each other, unable to read each other's expressions.
The air was dull and oppressive, as if nothing could pierce to bring light on the eve of an impending storm.
…………………
"I was 17, and I just got bitten by a radioactive spider. I was, guess you could say unstable, I don't know my strength, my power and what they can do, so I did something stupid."
"It was at midnight, and I climbed into the Osborn Tower, the company that controls everyone in my universe, leading by a bloody fascist. I wanted to find him and bring him in, but he's not there. Instead I find his son."
"We got into a fight. He did something bad too, but back at the time I wasn't sure. We just fought. Of course he tried to kill me, and some times he almost did it--I was lucky."
"Finally he slipped. I got a chance to attack. I bashed my guitar on his head, that one time was enough. There was blood instantly coming out of his head. But I didn't stop. I kept going, three times more, until his head cracked open, and brains dripping with blood from the skull."
Hobie tilted his head back against the back of the chair, his legs folded together:"That was my first kill. And it wasn't the last one. I kinda enjoyed it. Almost got addicted to it, to killing. But I pulled back in time."
…………………………
Miles didn't know how to react. He couldn't even imagine the look on his face right now. He'd never known Hobie's experience, his past; he didn't hold too high a moral bar on the killing item, everyone was different, and it would be hypocritical to hold their behavior in check, to stand on the moral high ground and pass judgment; he'd killed people, too, and he'd killed Jinjin.
It was just that Hobie's attitude toward killing, and his attitude toward himself-that honesty and nakedness-that left Miles a little confused. The reason for his hesitation was that he couldn't do what Hobie did ......
"You have 7 minutes... Continue."
The mechanical voice interrupted his thoughts. The time limit compelled him to begin.
"It was...
He couldn't do it. To describe in detail his last masturbation experience in a scene like this, in front of people like this. It was ridiculous.
"It was--it was about two weeks ago. i was--
"I was--and I was thinking, thinking about..."
Miles's voice became harder and harder, and he couldn't - no, he couldn't do it. He couldn't say it. His deepest hidden secrets, his most private, most unheard memories by outsiders, especially by Hobie.
"Warning, five minutes left."
But he had to.
It was the only way to keep them alive, and it was a choice he'd made.
But was there any point in living like this? Dignity was being destroyed little by little, they were gradually becoming numb; things that had seemed so unthinkable a week ago, things he couldn't imagine doing with anyone but lovers were now played out on an almost daily basis, as well as the more intimate ones - free will was dying out in the process, and they were becoming machines that knew nothing but to follow orders in order to live.
And by now, Miles had lost the will to tell the difference. He didn't want to think that what they were doing, all that they were doing to stay alive, had any meaning at all - he didn't want to think that when the ten days had passed, they would still be able to call themselves alive.
The only thing keeping him going here was Hobie. He had to get them both out of here alive.
"I was thinking about you.”
They gotta live.
"I was thinking about you...imagining how you'd touch me...help me come..your, your hands on me, grabbing me hard, pinching me, leaving marks on my skin…. I wanted you to do it, bite me, kiss my neck, make me yours—I wanted you to do all of it."
Live. L-I-V-E.
"Warning, 3 minutes left."
He's not doing it right. He had to say something else. He was hiding a part of the truth--
"I wanted you to be there! I imagined you were there, a-and you were, watching me."
Miles was going crazy, please, he thought to himself, please, don't make him tell the whole truth, he was going to die.
Let him leave a little bit of self-respect, let him at least retain a little dignity and privacy, let him still be an independent person instead of standing here like a naked book to be pored over at will.
"I wanted you to be there, see how I touch myself, I wanted you know t-that..: I wanted you know it."
please.
"Easy, Miles."
A hand pressed against his lips to stop him from continuing; Miles lifted his head and looked at the man standing in front of him as he slowly crouched down until he was at eye level: "If you don't wanna do it, stop. i don't mind dying here with you."
"Actually, it's gonna be a pretty good ending. For me."
"Warning, 2 minutes left."
Stop. Stop pushing him. Please--
Miles shuddered and pulled down the hand over his lips as he closed his eyes, now disqualified from asking Hobie to turn away and not look at him, so he closed his own in an attempt to deceive.
"I wanted you to know that I was thinking about you when I touched myself! I wanted you to know...and-and I came, when imagine you were by my side watching. I came while thinking that you know what I was doing, that you were watching me.”
“I wanted you to know that—That I love, I l-love, I love you."
The countdown stopped. The points in the air quietly increased, and no one cared.
Miles couldn't hold back any longer as he buried his face into his palms, his vision blurring as he felt a little wetness in his palms; he seemed to melt into a stone statue for a long time, until he was embraced in a warm embrace, and Miles cried out in disbelief.
The hand covering his face was pulled down and Miles felt something forcefully pinch his jaw to force him to look up; a kiss landed on his forehead as his tear-stained face was exposed to another person in the room.
The kiss lingered long enough to form a brand on his skin like it was trying to form a brand; it was a kiss without any lust, wrapped in all the warmth that enveloped the scaly boy so tightly.
The room was bright, and above the billions of light, mercy spilled over the land.
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Day 8
"Please choose between the following tasks:
1. A and B masturbate each other until they ejaculate
2. B removes one of A's ribs"
".... . this is getting ridiculous."
A new day, a new task. They were even in the mood to comment on each day as they grew familiar with the process.
They tacitly kept their mouths shut about everything that happened yesterday. The day before, Hobie had taken Miles in his arms when he had fallen into one of his worst mental breakdowns. Without uttering a word he wrapped Miles in a kiss, and when the boy never calmed down, Hobie carried him to the bed, pressed both of the boy's wrists above his head, and did to him everything that Miles had just described.
He masturbated Miles, watching each other the entire time, leaving a trail of marks, bite marks and fingerprints on the boy's skin; and when Miles finally stopped crying and turned into a screaming orgasm, Hobie pinched the back of his neck and whispered in his ear, "Mine."
Everything associated with sex is not necessarily obscene. Sometimes sex is the most effective comfort a human being can get.
Today's mission was back to normal. Yes, everything that once seemed unthinkable had become normal after yesterday.
"Why doesn't it just let me kill you? I mean how could one takes out--that's a rib!" said Miles, staring at the second option that popped up with incredulity.
"So will you do it?" offered Hobie looking serious, to which Miles dismissed without looking back : "No!!!! Let's just-just gimme a minute, alright? I'll be ready...just need some time to, get ready."
"Anytime you want, sweetheart."
Hobie crossed her legs high on the chair and chose to close her eyes and rest.
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He looked like he was asleep. Was he asleep?
Miles was ready. The other man still hadn't opened his eyes when he walked up to Hobie, which made Miles uncertain; should he wake the other man up or wait patiently? After all, Hobie had waited for him long enough before.
So Miles decided to wait. He sat down on the floor next to his chair and stared at the clean white walls. Over the next few hours he thought about everything that had happened over the past week and what had happened before they had entered this room; those memories had become a little fuzzy, and just in case his brain went on a complete strike, Miles even began to recall what he had learned from his textbooks; he remembered his Spanish test the following Monday and he still couldn't differentiate between the six inflections of the verb and the circumstances in which --
Uh-oh. The countdown was starting to get a little dangerous. When there were two hours left on the clock, Miles finally relented; he had to wake up Hobie, and then they were going to start ...... pleasuring each other.
Miles stood up, and the moment before his hand landed on Hobie's shoulder he suddenly changed his mind. Perhaps it was because he realized something.
The boy stepped away and carefully straddled the other man, the chair holding their two weights well; he sat on top of Hobie's thighs, his hands resting on the other man's shoulders; Hobie's eyes were still closed, which further affirmed Miles' suspicions.
The boy leaned down and dropped a kiss to the other man's lips. Flexing his previous experience, he brushed his tongue across Hobie's thick lips; the tip of his tongue hooked around the shiny lip ring and pulled, the pleasure from the kiss causing Miles to close his eyes in greater relaxation and even intoxication; when he felt a pair of hands pinch his waist, Miles opened his eyes to meet the other pair.
He gave a mischievous grin and briefly braced himself against Hobie's chest to get up:" I knew you weren't sleeping."
"Who told you I was sleeping? "Hobie's hand squeezed suggestively at his waist, to which Miles yelped in protest, then pushed hard against Hobie's shoulder; the chair toppled over while they rolled together onto the soft bed behind them.
Miles yanked the covers off that had accidentally covered his head, and as he panted and looked to his side, the boy suddenly erupted into a fit of laughter. The laughter echoed through the room and when it finally stopped, Miles squeezed the hand that was pulling him to look over at Hobie.
"I'm ready."
He said softly, firmly.
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Miles tugged at a quilt to use to cover the lower half of their bodies, even though there was no third person present in the room, he still did this covering maneuver to bring himself a little comfort.
Hobie was fine with that. Slightly cooler, he slid his hand back and forth against the small of Miles' back to get the other man used to it before slowly working his way down the edge of the boy's white underpants; while the boy's hand still fell to his crotch struggling to undo the zipper. There was so much decorative metal and zippers on his damn pants that it took Miles until the third try to find the right one.
It wasn't much of a fair game, and in every way Hobie had the upper hand, as he did now, as he skillfully circled the boy's cock and ran his thumb over the tip, while his other hand circled the upper half of Miles' body, eventually coming to rest on the flesh of his breasts and playing with it, his fingertips poking and prodding at the sensitive nipples; the part circled in his one hand was almost instantly erect and throbbing, and he could feel Miles's waist going limp in his grasp, and he couldn't help but twist and turn in his arms, and he couldn't help it. writhing uncontrollably in his arms.
On the other hand, it wasn't going so well for Miles; he was holding Hobie's sex and stroking it, jerking it back and forth, using all his experiential knowledge with little success. The cock in his hand was just a little harder than before, and Miles knew that he couldn't make any other excuses now, such as the fact that the drugs Hobie was on were keeping him hard: they'd been locked up for a week now, and any higher dose of drugs would have been metabolized out of their bodies by now.
That made Miles a little anxious. The pleasure in his lower body made it almost impossible for him to remain seated, but he still had to take care of Hobie; watching each other masturbate while they masturbated was even more exciting than sex, and the fact that they could see their own expressions in the black pupils of their eyes while watching the other's expression change made him even more anxious as Hobie remained calm.
Miles suddenly leaned down and licked the tiny hole in Hobie's sex, the salty taste boring into his throat; it definitely worked, at first. But the next moment Hobie pinched his chin and pulled him up.
His cock was clenched tightly for a moment, then five fingers slid down the shaft from the back to the front. Hobie pushed him over the top, making the orgasm come quickly and violently.
As Miles' hand grew limp from the orgasm against Hobie's lower body, he heard the other man nibble on his ear, "Gotta respect the rules, dear. Using your mouth would be a foul."
Miles let out a whimper at the words, and as he pressed himself against Hobie's chest to hear the strong, powerful heartbeat, the other man's white liquid-stained hand appeared in his vision. His cum was especially visible on the black fingernails.
He had to do something to make Hobie come - it was almost harder than fighting criminals. Miles thought as he began to lick and kiss Hobie's skin, working his way up the pectoral muscles exposed by the open neckline; the kiss lingered extraordinarily long at the knot of his throat, and he took the protuberance between his teeth while his hands covered Hobie's erection; the white bedding fell silently to the floor as he moved.
"I love-I love you."
Miles uttered the words hesitantly, his lips still resting on Hobie's skin. He felt the erection in his hand bounce a little, which made him move even harder; Hobie's panting began to grow ragged and low, unreserved moans ringing through the room.
And Miles thought he had just discovered the secret.
He rested his head in the crook of Hobie's shoulder, lips pressed against the other man's ear as he breathed:" I love you...from the first time I ever saw-I fell."
"Will you catch me this time? Doesn't matter...just wanna you know I-I love, love you."
Hobie cum in his palm. The slightly cool liquid reminded him that it was over, and Miles slowly withdrew his hand from under the other man.
Punk stood up and walked to the table. When he returned with wet wipes and paper towels, he was just in time to see Miles gently licking away the cum that belonged to Hobie from his palm.
The boy looked up with an innocent smile:”You taste good too. I’ll give you that.”
———————TBC———————