#switching gears and saying ‘what if i just like threw my credit card into here?’ I WAS JUST SPITBALLING I DIDNT KNOW SHE WAS FILMING | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thran-duils · 3 years

Text

Watch Me Burn (P.7)

Title: Watch Me Burn (Part Seven) Summary: Fem!Reader x AU!Cas. Fem!Reader x AU!Sam. This fic was inspired by both parts of “Love the Way You Lie” by Eminem & Rihanna. Castiel and the reader are toxic for each other and keep falling back together until the reader moved away. It’s been years and now she is back home, waltzing back into Castiel’s life. She is determined to do better this time, to make them work, but outside forces as well as the scars the two have left on each other weave their way into their reconciliation. Will they be able to overcome the past and new threats to their sustainability? Words: 3,076 Warnings (for the fic in entirety): Extreme angst, domestic violence, smut, unprotected sex, dom/sub dynamics, BDSM trust breaking, fluff, language, alcohol abuse, !!! eventual !!! happiness

Chap 6 || Chap 8 || Fanfic masterpost || Masterpost (mobile)

Sam walked in with Dean and you locked eyes only briefly before turning your gaze back to Castiel.

“He’s here. Longer hair,” you said quietly, barely audible above the music. Castiel threw a glance in his general direction and cocked an eyebrow. “I know, I know.”

“He’s coming,” Castiel warned you quietly, before saying at a normal volume to not arise suspicion, “This should be a fun night though for you guys.”

Suddenly, Sam was at your side. He had switched his jacket out for a button up cardigan over his dress shirt, his tie gone. It made him stick out in this bar, but you knew that was his attempt at dressing down.

“What are you ordering?” he asked you, leaning in close. You guessed he was purposely ignoring Castiel; he was good at making people feel invisible.

Castiel was staring at Sam, a piqued expression that only you would be able to recognize. It was not exactly a tight-lipped smile but close to it.

“Uh, I haven’t yet. I was just talking to Cas,” you said, gesturing at him standing opposite the bar.

Turning his attention to Castiel, Sam gave a nod of acknowledgment. “Sam,” he said, holding out his hand. “Worked with Y/N back in Austin.”

Castiel, thankfully, knew to play it cool. He reached out, taking Sam’s hand in turn, giving it a shake. The two of them held on a couple seconds longer than necessary, eyes piercing the other.

“I’ve heard,” was all Castiel said calmly in return.

You did not miss the slight raised brow Sam displayed at Castiel’s comment, no doubt wondering how much Castiel knew. He brushed the comment off quickly though.

“What are you going to order then, Y/N?”

“Probably a double whiskey with diet,” Castiel answered for you, throwing you a small smirk. He picked up the glass and went to work without waiting for you to confirm. It was your go to, that was correct. But you knew he was trying to prove a point to Sam by not even asking you. He knew you better, he wanted Sam to know that.

“Hmm. Whiskey,” Sam said surprised, rising his brows in surprise. “Far different than all the Paloma’s I’ve seen you down. Too many too count.”

Castiel snorted, drawing Sam’s attention. “What? Was she trying to get wasted? Y/N can’t handle her tequila very well.” He placed your whiskey in front of you.

Giving a small nervous laugh at their surreptitious shots at the other, you said, “Yeah, that’s true. But I paced myself.”

“Sometimes,” Sam quipped. You narrowed your eyes slightly at him and he chuckled. “Sorry. Right, you never got drunk. Ever.” He winked at Castiel across the bar. “I’ll take a Tom Collins.” You made a disgusted face and Sam chided you, “Yeah, yeah. I know. You hate gin.”

“Thanks,” Sam told Castiel. “I’ll see you at the table then, Y/N.”

Sam turned and left your side. When you met Castiel’s eyes again, he cocked a brow.

“I have a lot of questions,” he told you before walking off to take someone else’s order. You waited for him to return after a few minutes and cut in quickly.

“I know, I know. He’s pretentious.”

“You could say that again. What is he even wearing?”

You laughed a little and said, “That is him – and Dean, to be honest – trying to be casual. I can assure you.”

“So… not what I would expect from you.”

“There’s probably a reason why it didn’t work out.”

“I can think of a couple reasons, actually,” Castiel responded, throwing a glance over at where your coworkers were sitting.

Snorting, you nodded in agreement, “I know.” You took a drink of your whiskey and raised your glass half heartedly to him. “Here goes nothing. I can’t promise he will behave himself, but I’ll do my damndest to stay away.”

“Don’t think that’s possible with the seating arrangement at the table now. Looks like the only empty seat is next to him,” Castiel said sounding sour.

“Of course,” you muttered, turning around, and seeing what he said was true. You forced yourself to walk towards the table.

Playing it cool, you thanked Sam when he pulled the chair out from beside him to allow you to sit down.

“I ordered a couple of baskets of fries for the table and some deep-fried pickles,” Charlie informed you. “I told everyone that the burger is solid but if they are looking to be adventurous, that tater tot pizza is also good.”

“How much did you eat last time you were here?” Dean asked jokingly.

“Oh, shove it. I’ve been here a couple times with Y/N. It wasn’t all in one shot,” Charlie returned. “Thankfully, they live upstairs and I was able to crash on the couch one time! Don’t judge me, Tara, it was on a Friday!”

Tara held up her hands, “I wasn’t going to. I know you’re responsible.”

“Upstairs?” Sam questioned you.

You nodded, “Yeah. The floor above. It’s convenient.”

“Very,” Tara agreed and then asked, “But, do you not get sleep sometimes?”

“It’s fine most of the week. Fridays and Saturdays are a little wild, but I’m used to it. It’s nothing new. I’ll finally fall asleep in the early morning and can sleep in.”

“I would indulge so much in bar food, I would probably gain fifty pounds,” Charlie joked.

“Same,” your coworker Sahir agreed, raising his glass to which him and Charlie took a quick drink.

“I make sure that doesn’t happen. I meal plan,” you assured her. “It’s one thing I had to set right when I moved in. He was eating like absolute shit. I told him no one really likes quinoa, but his body will thank him.”

“Ew, gross,” Charlie said, her nose scrunching. “I hate quinoa.”

“It’s a power food, Charlie,” Sam told her.

“Don’t care.”

“I gotta agree with Sam and Y/N. Although, still with you, Charlie. I don’t like it but sometimes you gotta suck it up and play chess, not checkers, with your health,” Tara chimed in.

“Exactly!” Sam agreed. He turned his attention to you and asked, “You still on that 5 on, 2 off?”

He was referring to the exercise program you had been on while in Austin. One that he had strongly encouraged to get yourself in shape, something that was extremely personally important to him. You knew you could never be as fit or healthy as him and had tried to please him for a while.

Shrugging, you said, “More like… 3 to 4 on… maybe one of those days being yoga only. To keep flexibility.” Charlie snorted into her drink and you cocked your head. Sahir and Jennifer laughed as well and you demanded, “What?”

“Just… I make everything sexual,” Charlie laughed.

“Jesus, Charlie,” Tara said, but smirking despite herself.

Charlie apologized whilst laughing.

The food was delivered, more drinks, and even more jokes shared. Sam was leaning in close the whole time, his eyes roaming freely and Castiel was most certainly keeping an eye on you across the bar. You tried to stay straight up, not leaning yourself towards Sam while still maintaining a calm demeanor. Sam, outwardly, was not seeming to notice.

Your attention was drawn to the door as you saw Aspen walk in and you suppressed the urge to roll your eyes. All you needed tonight was her flaunting herself around Castiel when you were already high strung. You knew it was normal for her to go to the bar for a drink, but you knew it was Castiel she was aiming for.

Sam’s arm slipped around your shoulders, drawing your attention back.

<> <> <>

“Hey, Cas,” Aspen chirped, leaning on the bar.

Castiel greeted her and asked how she had been since he had not seen her since the first night Y/N had come back. He was not surprised considering the air in which she had left in.

Holding out her credit card, Aspen said, “My regular, I think, to start out.”

When she looked back was the moment Sam’s arm slipped around Y/N’s shoulders. He pulled her towards him, close in proximity. Aspen rose her brows in surprise and looked back at Castiel who was placing her drink down in front of her.

“Wow, uh, who’s with Y/N?”

Castiel’s gaze moved over to the table and his jaw tightened when he saw Sam’s arm around her. Y/N was forcing a smile as she spoke to him.

“Coworker,” Castiel answered tightly.

“Oh…” Aspen trailed off, throwing another look over her shoulder. “All of them coworkers?”

“Yes.”

“They close…?”

Castiel pierced her with a stare and said, “I’m assuming you want your tab open?”

Aspen switched gears, nodding. “Yep. I’ll be here awhile. Maureen agreed to drive me home… if need be.”

“How kind of her,” Castiel chuckled lightly, purposely ignoring her insinuation.

<> <> <>

“Remember when Larson fell down those stairs outside The Outlook?” Sam asked you, his fingers pressing into your shoulder.

“Unfortunately,” you answered, smiling, trying to keep yourself from jerking away from his embrace.

“You tried so hard to get him to stop drinking. I mean, we all did. But it did fuck all to stop it.”

“Was he injured?” Dean asked, raising his brows.

Sam laughed, “Surprisingly, no! I don’t know how he just tucked and rolled, like his body was reacting defensively even in his state. The man could barely order a new drink. And that’s when the bartender was like, ‘nope, no more’. And cut the whole group off because they were afraid someone else would order him a drink and give it to him. Ruined our whole night. Well, momentarily.”

You stiffened then. That night was the first night the two of you had hooked up. That was the sole reason he had brought it up.

“The night continued after that for the rest of us after we got his drunk ass to bed.”

You noticed Castiel approaching the table. Thinking he was going to table touch, you asked Charlie quickly, “You want a refill?”

“Duh,” she said and then noticed Castiel. “Oh, hey! Perfect! Can I get a refill?”

Castiel gave a curt laugh and said, “When I get back. I’m on break. Y/N? Wanna come outside with me?”

“Oh, yeah,” you said quickly. You saw Sam watching you out of the corner of your eye as you pushed your chair back, his arm leaving you, and grabbed your jacket. “Don’t you need your coat? It’s chilly.”

“I’ll grab it on the way out,” Castiel responded as you came up to him. His arm slipped around you, guiding you away from the table. His hand was tight on your waist, protective.

Castiel did not take you outside. Instead, he led you to the back room and you followed his lead, a weight pulling down inside. You knew he was not pleased with how he was acting. As soon as he closed the door behind the two of you and locked it, he turned to face you. Getting in your face, he did not miss a beat.

“He’s been laying his hands on you all night.”

Throwing your hands out in defeat, you said, “I’ve tried skirting away, Cas. I can’t do that too much without making a scene though.”

“You’re not trying hard enough.”

Your mouth fell open.

<> <> <>

“Charlie,” Maureen greeted approaching the table, two shots in hand as Tara, Sahir, and Jennifer went out for a smoke.

Charlie straightened up, a smile on her face. “Oh, hello! Maureen, right?”

Maureen nodded and said, “Just spotted you across the bar and thought I would pop by to say hi. We did have a good few rounds last time!”

Smirking, Charlie said, “I kind of remember.” This caused Maureen to laugh, as well as the other people at the table.

“I just thought I would bring this over for you. Rum, right?”

“Oh, yeah. You got that for me?” Charlie asked surprised.

Maureen nodded, “You bought me one last time and I did not reciprocate. I hold pretty strong convictions about that. Speaking of which, I saw Y/N and Cas leaving out the back. He’s not off work yet, is he? He still owes me a shot since someone spilled mine at last call last time I was here, and I won’t be able to cash in without him.”

Charlie shook her head, “No, he went on his break and asked Y/N to go with him.”

Maureen snorted, “I wouldn’t be surprised to see them come back flush.”

Sam’s jaw clenched ever so slightly.

“They always had their ways in the past.”

Charlie let out a laugh, “Oh, do tell.”

“Just leaving to go… relieve themselves.”

“Maybe we should not pry into our coworker’s business,” Sam advised Charlie sharply.

Charlie stumbled a little at his change in demeanor, “Oh… right.”

Maureen smirked at Sam and said, “It’s not quiet business in this bar. Castiel has owned this bar for years… him and Y/N are old news. Them being back together scared a lot of people. It was a nightmare half the time to be honest. But… they seem to have grown up. Sigh of relief there.”

Sam straightened up at this comment. “How do you mean?”

“Just drunken fights, a couple cop calls. Break up, break off. They were young and stupid. Can’t say I wasn’t the same myself.”

Charlie was the one now becoming uncomfortable for her friend. “Oh, well… I mean, the past is the past.”

“The past does inform the future,” Sam quipped, and Dean nodded in agreement.

<> <> <>

You snapped, “I told you what happened between us and where he stands in my company. He’s not just some… schmuck! He’s a junior partner!”

Shaking his head, Castiel said, “Junior partner or not…” He trailed off, beginning to walk forward, forcing you to go backwards. “He needs to know where you stand with me! You apparently need to be reminded too.”

Castiel turned you around in a swift movement and pushed you chest first into the wall, pinning an arm behind your back. You gasped his name, trying to look back at him but he kept you firmly in place.

“I am just reminding you who you belong to,” he growled into your ear.

Your breath shuddered, feeling his hands grasp the hem of your dress, yanking it up to your hips. Slipping his fingers into your underwear, he stroked your lips.

“I pay attention to you, Y/N. I treat you right,” Castiel breathed as he played with your sex. “I dote on you, angel. Don’t I?”

“Yes, sir,” you answered.

You keened as he worked you up, fingers slipping inside to caress you. You pressed back against him, begging for more. His grip tightened on your wrist, holding you more firmly in place and you stilled your movement, following his direction. You stood there, letting him rile you up, biting your lip.

“Look at you… so needy,” he said breathlessly. You could hear the want in his voice, feel his fingers move more freely, coated in your arousal. He leaned forward to be closer to your face. “Are you needy, angel?”

“Yes, sir. Only for you,” you told him obediently, giving him pleading eyes.

Castiel kissed your temple and praised, “I know, baby.”

Pulling away, his fingers left you to pull your underwear down and you kicked them off in tandem. His cock slid in easily in your wet folds. He sighed in content, his hands gripping your waist as he fully seated inside you.

“That’s my girl,” he purred.

His fingers dug in as he drove into you, taking you against the wall. You stayed sturdy, holding on. He drove up sharply into you again and you bit down on your cheeks.

Kissing up your neck, Castiel demanded, “You gonna do better for me? Let them know who you belong to?”

“Yes,” you said.

“Angel, don’t make me have to work harder for this,” he warned, his breath hot on your neck.

“Yes, sir.”

“Mhm, you’re not saying that with too much conviction. You’re too quiet,” He squeezed your nipple hard, causing you to keen loudly before burying your face into the wall, fingers digging in beside you. “We can do better than that, can’t we?”

His fingers closed in around your jawline, pulling your head to the side, you following his movement obediently. He wanted your mouth exposed, your noises to be heard.

You nodded quickly, saying louder, “Yes, sir!”

Castiel drove deep and quick, bouncing you against the wall. “I know you can do better. You’re so beautiful. I love hearing you scream for me.”

“I belong to you!” you declared, knowing damn well anyone walking outside the room could hear the two of you. He was jeopardizing his place of work for this. What rumors would fly of people being railed in rooms in the bar. “Fuck me, please! Let me cum!”

Castiel laughed, nipping at your ear. “Angel, you can’t help yourself, can you?”

His speed increased, his hand falling from your face to come to your nub, circling fervently. He praised you, laying sloppy kisses along the side of your head. You whimpered as you came undone beneath his hand, your legs shaking with your orgasm. Castiel held you upright, allowing him access to finish himself.

Panting, you settled against the wall, basking in the coolness of it against your hot skin. Castiel pulled away eventually, leaving you exposed behind. The cool air was welcome, and you continued resting to regain your grounding.

When you had the strength, you reached for a roll of paper towels to clean yourself up. And then pulled your underwear back up, straightening out your clothes.

Turning to face him, you found him looking well put together again, beside his hair. He was trying to tame it, running his hands through it.

He eyed you and informed you, “I’m not losing my temper with him because I know how much you love your job and how important it is to you.”

You took this in, nodding. He was telling you this for a reason. In the past, he would not have hesitated to make a scene without care for consequence.

Coming closer, he cupped your face, pulling you in for a long, deep kiss. “Now that we’ve got that out of our system… we ready to go back out there?”

~~~

CASTIEL FOREVER TAGS: @willowing-love @perseusandmedusa @greenappleeyes @afanofmanystuffs @earthtokace @shikaros-blog @marisayouass @splendidcas @stixnstripesworld

#castiel x reader #spn fanfic #supernatural fic #sam winchester x reader #my shit

10 notes · View notes

ashintheairlikesnow · 4 years

Text

Hunted Down, Part Two

CW: Explicit dubcon (both sides), noncon kissing and touching, drug use (not by our whumpees), violent emotional and physical abuse, emotional manipulation. Kauri is an abuse survivor struggling with self-blame. Stay safe.

Collaborative piece with @spiffythespook. TIMELINE: Takes place after Kauri’s break-up with Derrick, so this is the piece that takes place the farthest in Kauri’s future so far. Jack belongs to @spiffythespook.

Tagging Jack and Kauri’s crews: @maybeawhumpblog, @pepperonyscience, @haro-whumps, @18-toe-beans, @burtlederp, @finder-of-rings, @giggly-evil-puppy, @whimpers-and-whumpers, @moose-teeth, @whump-it, @lumpofwhump, @pumpkinthefangirl, @spiffythespook, @slaintetowhump @castielamigos-whump-side-blog, @rivertamandspike, @iaminamoodymoodtoday, @imagination1reality0

PART ONE

"This didn't have to happen," Owen said quietly. "It wasn't my fault. You did this, Kauri."

Kauri looked defeated. Miserable. Guilty. "I… I know."

It took all of Jack’s willpower to keep his mouth shut, to keep from talking back, from telling Owen Grant what exactly was what. He managed, but not without a visible scowl and glower at the man. Don’t sass. Don’t backtalk. Don’t presume, said the mantra in his head with a shot of pain. Jack winced and grit his teeth together, and then changed his goddamn mind because he could.

“Actually, it’s one-hundred-percent your fault, Mister. You’re the one with the obsession. You’re the one who bought the car, and the thugs, and the illegal room, and the gear, and you’re the fucker who’s about to rape us,” Jack snapped, voice and hand gestures full to the top with anger. “It ain’t his fault that he got stuck with a fucking psycho bitch.”

“Jack, no-” Kauri nearly shouted, wide-eyed, moving towards him with his hands up.

Owen’s eyes flared, a sudden spike of all-consuming rage, and he dropped the manacles - and you couldn’t call them cuffs, they really were just metal manacles - to the ground again. “I am not a psycho!” He nearly shouted back, his voice ragged at the edges, his eyes still wide with fury, raising his hand.

“Yeah you fuckin’ are, psycho!” Jack raised his voice to match - he had a lot of experience in voluminous communication.

Owen moved to backhand him across the face, and Kauri stepped between them - he threw himself between them, really. He took the full force of Owen’s hand, head snapping to the side with a cry as he dropped like a stone to the ground. Owen reached down and grabbed him by the hair, using his grip on those black curls to simply throw Kauri to the side.

“Fuck off, Vince,” He growled, with no sign that he was even aware, this time, that he’d called Kauri by the wrong name. “I’ll deal with you later.”

Oh, fuck- “Kauri, just don’t-” Jack said, even as he backed away from Owen. Man, why did he always not have his pepper spray when the assholes came around? “Whatcha gonna do, huh? Gonna beat me? Taken worse’n you can dish out. Come’n’get me, freak.”

“I had not particularly intended to,” Owen said, voice low and dangerously laced with his anger. “I hadn’t. I don’t… hurting people isn’t fun. I only hurt Kauri because I had to. The same reason I hurt Vince, I had to. That’s not my fault!” The fury in him was in full force now, the jealous rage at the idea that twice in a row, Vince had decided to try and fuck off away from him, and twice he had succeeded.

Not this time.

“I’m not going to hurt him, you fucking slut. You are.” He paused, considered that, twitched a strange, mean smile. “Well, maybe I will hurt him. But you’re going to help.” His hand shot out to grab Jack by the arm and pull him towards the bed.

Jack let himself be grabbed, and moved easily toward the bed with Owen. He held his tongue now - he figured telling the guy that it was his fault again would only end badly. So he switched gears. When they got closer, he pressed against the older man, pressed his free hand over Owen’s stomach and down his waist to his hip, and put on his long-practiced boyish smile. “Look, you know what he can do. Lemme show you what I can do, Mr Owen.”

Owen paused, staring down at him, surprised. There was a beat of time - enough to take in and let out a breath, a few heartbeats - where he genuinely had no idea how to react, as it wasn’t at all what he had expected.

Then he slid an arm around Jack, in a sort of false affection, until his hand caught in the younger man’s hair and pulled his head back, slowly, inexorably, until the angle would hurt.

“I know what you can do,” He said in a low voice. “What I want right now is to see you do Kauri. I want to see what he likes so goddamn much. I want to see you hurt him, you fucking whore. Make him cry. And if you hurt him well enough, I’ll give you a couple grand and let you walk out of here with all your goddamn limbs. Karen didn’t say I couldn’t cut anything off. Understand?”

Kauri, pushing himself back up to standing with a bright red mark lighting up one side of his face, let out a choked-off sob in response.

Jack cringed in pain and his breath hitched at the deal Owen proposed. Not a good hitch - much as a couple grand would help him out, Jack didn’t take fucking blood money from anybody. He blinked quickly, hating himself for how easily the tears came now. He breathed heavily, grit his teeth in the backbend and tried to look at Kauri.

He couldn’t do that. He could fake doing that. Maybe.

“Y-yeah, I can do that,” he said, expression giving away his misery.

"Good. You little shit. I don't know how you got her to protect you, but I am going to go right to the limit of what Renford will let me do. You stole him. Convinced him to stay on the street, like a fucking prostitute, like you. He should have come home to me."

Owen dragged Jack by his hair the rest of the way to the bed, all but throwing him on there. "Sit on the bed and put your fucking wrists up." He looked over his shoulder at Kauri, who flinched at the look on his face.

Jack obeyed, wrists up. He was regretting his mouth.

"Get the chains to tie you up, Kor-Bore."

Kauri nodded, shoulders hunched over, and picked up the chains Owen had been holding before. "Y-yeah, Mr. Owen, j-just, please-" he stumbled over to him and held them out, then flinched again as Owen yanked them out of his hands.

"You on the bed, too. Now." Kauri scrambled onto the bed, next to Jack, and Owen grabbed one wrist and closed the manacle tightly around it, then went to grab Jack and do the same.

When he was done, their wrists were chained together on each side, a little slack chain between them, facing each other. Kauri looked sick with fear.

Jack swallowed tightly, glancing between Kauri and Owen. “You want me to touch him now? You wanna see me show him a good time, or hurt him? Or do ‘em in that order? I’m confused.”

“Honestly, what I want to do would kill you both-” Kauri let out a little whimper and ducked his head, shoulders shaking as he tried to force back a new rush of tears. “Oh, shut up, Kauri. This is your fault. If you hadn’t run away from me, none of this would be happening, would it? Stop acting like such a fucking victim.”

The constant refrain insisting on his responsibility seemed to hit Kauri harder each and every time, made him slump a little more into himself. He twined his fingers through Jack’s with his right hand, and squeezed as hard as he could. An apology, the best he could manage when he was too scared in the moment to trust himself to speak again. Jack squeezed his hand back.

Owen moved, setting a few other things on the bed, and then he went to a side table, dumping a small pile of white powder from a tiny vial he’d had inside his pocket, using his credit card to carefully craft a perfect straight line.

He glanced at them, eyes narrowed. “I like your idea, Jack. Get him feeling good, and then make it fucking hurt. So he understands that he deserves it to hurt when he’s not with me.”

Jack swallowed, glancing to the side with a very angry look in his eyes, lips pursed. Drugged-up assholes were a familiar nightmare. At least the guy wasn’t wasting his precious coke on them.

“Sure, man,” he muttered. He turned to Kauri and cupped the other’s cheek, apology in his eyes as he shuffled forward and pressed against him, guiding Kauri in for a tender kiss, gently seeking access to his mouth.

He slid his hand from Kauri’s cheek to his hair, tipped his head back just enough to bare his neck. Jack kissed along the smooth expanse of skin, over one side and then under the ear that was out of Owen’s view. “When I start fucking you, I need you to scream like you’re in hell. I’m not gonna hurt you if I can help it,” he murmured softly, quickly, and then bit into Kauri’s skin.

Just as Jack started to speak, Owen had leaned over the line of white powder with a bit of rolled-up paper, and the only thing he heard was the sound of the drug snorting up his nose, blasting his mind with a white haze of feeling good and perfectly in control. He took a deep breath, shaking himself a little, and chuckled.

Jack rubbed his cheek against Kauri’s. “He’s wrong. ‘S not your fault. He’s crazy and mean, and it’s not your fault.” Kauri nodded without looking up, making a noise like a strangled sob.

And then his lips were against Kauri’s skin again wetly, seeking out his lips and slipping his tongue messily into the other’s mouth. He knew what looked good.

Kauri lifted his chin for that, but he could barely even try to kiss back. His mouth was trembling, his entire body shaking like a leaf, rattling the chain that bound their wrists together softly. He didn't let go of his death-grip on Jack's hand.

He was terrified, and even more terrified that being scared would keep him from reacting the way Owen wanted, that he would get Jack in even more trouble.

Owen wiped compulsively at his nose and settled himself on the bed, back against the headboard, to watch. If anything, his pupils were even smaller.

Jack guided Kauri gently down onto his back on the bed. He gave up on kissing Kauri’s mouth, instead focusing his lips on the other boy’s neck, on stroking one hand soothingly up and down his waist. He was getting hard, but that was more years of conditioning than the situation itself. He slid down Kauri’s body and kissed his cock, resuming the blowjob he’d been giving earlier. He reached for Kauri’s hands and guided them to his head, so at least he might feel more in control.

Kauri wanted to cling to Jack more than anything, just put his arms around his neck and hold onto him until Owen was done with this stupid game and killed him for leaving. Maybe then he'd let Jack leave. Instead, he felt his wrists move slowly as Jack's hands did, pulled along by the chains that connected them, and he closed his eyes, settling onto his back and trying not to think about the weight of Owen's eyes, the little sniffled snorts he could hear.

Owen had never done drugs - not once - when Kauri had been with him.

The kisses… felt good, at least, and Kauri breathed out slowly at the flutter of pleasure, skim of lips against a cock that had stopped being hard long before they even made it into the elevator.

He took in another breath, let it out, felt Jack's soft short hair against his fingers. Jack's hair, Jack's skin, Jack's smell. If he could be good enough, Owen would let Jack go.

He was sure of it.

So he pushed his hips up, just a little, to encourage Jack to keep going, and Jack did. He sucked on the tip of Kauri’s cock gently, tongued at his slit and popped up to lick wetly over the underside. Appearance was important.

Jack cupped at his sack, rolling it gently in his hand before he licked over it. He pushed Kauri’s legs up so they were bent, and kissed down his thighs, over his perineum, made his way back from down there to Kauri’s tip. Then he took the other’s cock into his mouth, as far as he could, and held still to suck on it.

Training had made sure Kauri's fear never interfered with his ability to get hard at any positive attention and he hitched in his breath at the rush of pleasure, Jack warm and wet and familiar and good around him. He kept his hands buried in his hair, feeling the chains that held them together pull taut or slacken as Jack's own hands moved.

"Th-that's, that's good, right there," He breathed, looking down at Jack's head for just a second, feeling a whole new rush of pleasure just seeing his mouth on him.

Owen's eyes narrowed, and Kauri felt the tension change in the room, closing his eyes again. He knew why Owen shifted around suddenly, even though he didn't say anything. He never really went down on Kauri - and Kauri had his eyes closed most of the time they were together.

Kauri felt a burst of anger and used it, arching his back to thrust himself a little further into Jack's mouth, letting out a soft moan. This was what Owen wanted, right? He wanted a fucking show before he murdered Kauri for leaving? He could give him a fucking show.

"L-little, um, there, little m-more of that…"

Jack moaned around Kauri, enjoying the feeling of his cock at the back of his throat. He was happy that Kauri was initiating a little. He pressed his tongue against the underside, cheeks hollowed out as he sucked, and began to move up and down Kauri’s length.

He kept going until he tasted pre from the tip, and drew off with an obscene, wet noise. He rubbed his cheek over Kauri’s length, then pulled away and looked over at Owen.

“Gonna need a bit of lube if you want me in him. He’s not gonna be any good for you later if he’s torn up. Blood everywhere, infections, trips to the hospital where they tell ya he shouldn’t have anything in him for weeks…”

Owen snorted, his eyes sparkling and overbright, glittering with dangerous intensity. "After what he did, it's not like he deserves it," He snapped. "Besides, Vince healed up just fine."

"Did… did he…?" Kauri asked, a little hesitantly, twisting his head to look at Owen, but he didn't pull his hands back, and ran one gently over the side of Jack's face, who leaned slightly into his palm.

"... I guess I don't fuckin' know, since I haven't… well, fine." Owen snorted and stood, grabbing a bottle out of the pile of accessories he'd brought with him. He dropped it without ceremony, and Kauri flinched as the cold glass bottle landed against his hip. "Don't use too much, this shit is expensive."

“Sure. Thanks, Mister,” Jack said, taking the bottle in hand. He poured a generous amount into his palm and slicked himself first. He made sure the fingers of his one hand were coated well, and set the bottle close to his own leg - easy for his own reach, and if Grant was going to take it, he would risk touching Jack.

He started with a couple fingers rubbing firmly at Kauri’s entrance, watching his face and paying attention to his responses to determine how tense he was.

Kauri kept his eyes on Jack, then - locked on his face, trying to stare long enough to block out everything else. I'm going to get you out of here, he mouthed, trying for a smile. It trembled, but held. Jack wasn’t great at lipreading, but he figured more or less what Kauri said. His brow raised in surprise.

Training was kicking in, and Kauri relaxed almost unconsciously when Jack's fingers touched him, tension drifting out of his body, hands finally falling away from Jack, letting his head fall back.

Jack knew that sort of reaction wasn’t exactly natural - it had to be trained, like Troy had trained his reactions to certain things. He was still relieved about it now, when a normal person might tense up with the fear of the threats Owen had made. He pressed one finger in first, still testing. He leaned over Kauri to kiss him, on his lips and then in a trail down by Kauri’s ear.

Kauri's head was still tipped back, his eyes half-closed, and he was still relaxed - not boneless but not far off - under Jack's touch. He shivered at the lips on his and against his skin, breathing out in a long, slow exhale.

“When I put more in you, try to sound like it hurts,” Jack murmured. Soon, he pressed a second finger in beside the first, more quickly than he usually would so he might surprise Kauri and help with the illusion.

Kauri gasped, caught by surprise, and jerked his head to the side and away from Jack, making a soft sound of pain, clenching his eyes shut and jerking his hands like he would try to push Jack away, before he went lax again.

Owen laughed - barely a sound, really - and settled himself in, relaxing back against the headboard. "That's more like it. Fucking slut. It's going to hurt with anyone who isn't me. Go on, get on with it." He waved a hand dismissively. "You can go faster than that."

Jack grit his teeth together, pushing back his anger at the man for even thinking about shit like this. He pushed in a second finger, but slowly, thankful that Owen couldn’t see exactly what he was doing. He was careful as he scissored them open, making sure Kauri was lax enough before he started to thrust them in roughly, deeply, his entire arm making the motion. It would’ve been painful if he’d gone in dry, or if Kauri had been tense from the situation.

Kauri clenched his eyes shut as tightly as he could, making the upper half of his body as tense as he could without his lower body following suit. He made himself think about Owen hurting Jack, maybe hurting him the way he'd hurt Kauri, choking him until he blacked out and then waiting for him to wake up and choking him again.

About Owen getting so angry he didn't let Jack leave, either.

His head turned to the side, tears leaked out from his closed eyes at the idea of Jack being hurt or killed because he'd been nice to Kauri one night when Kauri just… needed help.

Owen fell for Kauri’s lie, the way he’d fallen for almost all of them.

He leaned forwards, interested in the anguish on Kauri's face, and laughed to himself, leaning over to brush some of the black curls from Kauri's forehead. "Don't like that? He's not so good for you now, huh?"

Kauri shook his head, flinching from Owen's touch. At the same moment, he grabbed Jack's free hand again and squeezed.

I'm lying, you're not hurting me.

Owen looked up at Jack, with a wild, slightly mad grin on his face. "Look at that. He's a pretty crier, isn't he?"

Jack looked briefly at Kauri - how he had managed to make himself cry, he had no idea. He worried for a moment that it was something he’d done… but Kauri had grabbed his hand, and Jack hoped that was meant to reassure. So he looked at Owen and shrugged. “Dunno, buddy. I don’t like crying, I’m just doing my job,” he said, and then crooked his fingers to rub over Kauri’s prostate. He pushed a third in steadily.

"You don't?" Owen tilted his head, watching Kauri's hips jerk and the soft little moan he made, shaky and tear-filled, at the sudden burst of pleasure, melting apart feigned pain. "You should learn. I used to not, either, but he's so goddamn pretty crying. Most people aren't. He is." He petted at Kauri's hair tenderly, almost, except that his hands were shaking and his fingers caught in the tangles, jerking Kauri's head to the side.

"Oh, sorry, Kor-Bore," Owen whispered, with that hint of madness still in his eyes. "Don't get too distracted, huh?"

Kauri winced, but kept his grip tight on Jack's hand, sniffing. He knew he was believable - he'd lied to Owen before and he could do it again.

Jack bit his tongue to keep from talking, to keep from telling Owen how crazy he was, how bullshit this whole thing was. He focused on thrusting the three fingers in - all but slamming them in, really, so Kauri might have a better time faking his pain. He squeezed his other hand in Kauri’s. He focused on the here and now instead of the times they’d held hands in bed - the times Jack had fingered him open before while praising him, while Kauri rode his fingers with freedom and pleasure.

He pulled his fingers out, all at once, knowing he was going to lose his boner if he got distracted with Grant. He lined up to push in, staring down at Kauri… but he thought better of making the breach just yet. “May I, Mister Owen?” he said sweetly, a slight tilt of his head.

Owen's eyes were focused on Kauri's face, reading it, memorizing every detail, every tear track. He flicked them up to look at Jack, smirking, pleased. "Yeah, go for it." He tilted Kauri's chin back, until he had to arch his back a little, looking up at Owen almost upside-down. "He's got manners, Kor-Bore."

Kauri trembled, just a little, feeling a strange mix of needy and frightened, and it felt like training. Like a handler at each end, like it used to be. "J-Jack-"

"Ssssshhhhh," Owen said softly. "No one wants to hear you right now, Kauri."

Jack’s fake-sweet smile disappeared at that. He guided one of Kauri’s legs up toward his chest, settled his body low against Kauri, a hand between them to help guide himself in. Jack stared down at Kauri even though the other’s head was forced back, forced to look at Grant. He kissed at his neck, pressed his cheek to Kauri’s, out of view. “I would wanna hear you. I’m sorry, babe.”

He pushed just the tip in and braced so he could thrust, murmuring, “Remember to scream when I push.”

Jack waited just a moment...and then he thrusted in to the hilt all at once.

Kauri's body was still working hard to continue what it was trained for, and he was relaxed enough that he had to make himself think about losing Jack again, about what it would feel like if Owen really hurt him, to get the right amount of tears.

He let out a whimper, not quite a scream, and pulled his hands up to push at Jack's chest like he would try to push him away.

"No, no," Owen said softly, almost lovingly, and pushed Kauri's hands away. Jack froze, shuddering as Owen spoke like the creep he was. "Let him hurt you. You like that so much, like it when it hurts, too."

For maybe the first time, it became visibly obvious that Owen was also very much enjoying this - but only after Kauri was in visible (if faked) pain.

Jack gave a couple deep thrusts into Kauri before he noticed just how much Grant was enjoying himself. Again, he froze, this time to raise his brows at the other man. “I do have a backdoor if you wanna get in on this.”

At first, Owen, only raised an eyebrow, looking patently disinterested.

“J-Jack, don’t-” Kauri whispered. The look on Owen’s face changed all at once, taking in the way Kauri was shaking his head, trying to get Jack to look back at him. “D-Don’t, don’t do that, don’t-” Owen yanked hard at his hair again, his words cutting off and turning into a soft little cry of pain.

Kauri felt so good with Jack inside of him, everyone always felt good in him, and he was working hard to pretend it hurt when it didn’t. But he didn’t have to pretend when Owen grabbed him like that.

“Shut the fuck up, Kauri.” Owen looked all kinds of interested, now that it was clear Kauri absolutely did not want that to happen. “I’ve always wanted to try that…” His head felt crystal-clear, the cocaine had blown away his uncertainties and left Owen boiled down to his core. He shifted around, hurriedly removing his own clothing, his eyes mostly on Kauri as he did so. On the way he looked fucking miserable, just like he should. “Are you ready? If you’re not, I’m going to fucking hurt you.”

He shuddered at the words and rolled his hips forward, hands coming to smooth over Kauri’s waist. Wouldn’t be the first, jerk, he thought. “Yeah, I’m ready.”

He rolled his hips back again, widened his legs and curved his spine. A clear, blue-tinted glass plug was between his cheeks. Jack figured he’d let Grant take it out.

He looked down at Kauri and smiled - a real smile - and mouthed it’s okay. Then he rolled his head back, too, looking at the other guy. “I’ve been waiting all night for a good fill.”

Owen laughed, a sound that was at once sort of an off-kilter chuckle and also half-crazed. He was probably a little too high for this, but why not - see what Kauri liked so damn much, although Owen Grant had paid a lot of money to make sure Kauri was trained to take, not give.

Which meant this was one thing Owen could have that Kauri hadn’t, and from his own fucking friend, no less.

“Jesus, you weren’t kidding. Well, probably bad for business if you don’t do the work ahead of time.” The statement was surprisingly without his usual parade of judgement for Jack’s work, and he moved with an expert, light touch as he worked to get the plug back out of Jack without causing him too much discomfort. It wasn’t that he cared - muscle memory just took over. It felt pretty good to Jack nonetheless. “Kauri has one like this.”

“I told him about that one already-”

“Kauri, if you don’t shut your fucking mouth, I will stuff it full with the shit I brought in that bag.”

Kauri winced, and he badly wanted to put his arms around Jack’s neck, but the chains that held their hands together wouldn’t allow it. All he could do was look into his face, now that Owen wasn’t jerking his head around, and hope. Jack looked down at him with a warm smile, rubbing his thumbs over Kauri’s skin.

Owen bit his lower lip in concentration, slicking himself up with the lube, and it took maybe a little more work than he thought it would to line himself up before he pushed himself in, groaning, his forehead against Jack’s back. “Jesus fuck.”

The entry was… not the clumsiest Jack had taken. His mouth fell open and eyes shut as Owen pushed in, and he moved his hands to brace on the bed, close to Kauri’s side since they were chained together. He exhaled softly and smiled at Kauri again. Hopefully he was saving the other boy some excess emotional pain.

Jack rolled his hips forward, into Kauri, partially off of Owen. Pleasure burned up his spine. He leaned down and gently kissed Kauri - quick and even a bit playful. This didn’t have to be a nightmare even if they were both forced into it.

“C’mon little guy,” he risked tossing over his shoulder with a smirk.

Owen didn’t dignify Jack with a response - other than to grab him by the neck and push him down, until his head was buried against Kauri’s shoulder, before thrusting deeply into him and picking up a savage rhythm that would push him hard into Kauri, too. Jack moaned wantonly against Kauri’s skin, trying to keep some kind of movement while Owen pounded into him.

When Jack’s head was pushed down, Kauri pressed a quick kiss to the side of his head, then caught Owen staring at him and closed his eyes, trying to avoid that expression, the tiny pupils and the jealous anger there. He couldn’t stop his own noises as Jack was moving - and moved - in and out of him. Noises that were half-feigned pain, and half honest pleasure. He was hard, where he and Jack were pressed together, and his hips kept moving, trying to chase the friction and find more pleasure.

Jack could have easily been content to lie there - did he really give a crap if Grant got off? Nah - but he moved as much as he could into Kauri, working with Owen’s rhythm. He rubbed his cheek against the other, pressed his lips against his neck.

Owen’s eyes had focused on Kauri’s face as he fucked Jack relentlessly, the cocaine giving him plenty of energy. It was exactly what he’d hoped Kauri would look like - terrified and sad and overwhelmed, because this was it, wasn’t it? He’d finally found him. And he’d fuck his stupid whore friend and then shove Jack out of a car somewhere and he’d take Kauri home.

And tie him to the bed so he never left again, just like Vince.

It took Owen a second to realize something wasn’t… working, as well as it should be. He was thrusting but the sensation was… less. He shifted around a little, closed his eyes and tried to really picture Kauri’s face, how he’d look right back where he belonged, but… nothing.

Owen groaned, as he realized he was going limp inside the whore. His face started to burn bright red in humiliation.

Okay, to be fair, people didn’t go limp in Jack very often. Usually the older guys took Viagra before they got out of the car - or Jack got in - and that pretty much took care of that. He could remember...years ago, working for Troy...some of the junkies lost hardons like that. Anyway, the point was, he didn’t recognize what was happening at first.

When he did, though.

Jack tried to muffle his laughter at first, quick little breaths through his nose against Kauri’s neck. Kauri jumped, a little, looking confused and blinking over at Jack and then up at Owen, trying to figure out what was wrong. Jack pushed himself up and looked back, trying to keep his expression neutral… with no luck.

“Man-” nope, he was laughing pretty loudly, now, shaking his head. “Oh man. You got any little blue pills, little guy? That’s gotta suck, hay- hah-” deeeep breath. “Hate-fucking but without a tool in your toolbox, huh? Want a blowie?”

“J-Jack, what’s-” Then Kauri seemed to understand, all at once, and he was torn between a surge of hysterical laughter in his own throat - Owen had spent so long hunting him down, and when he catches him, this happens - and sheer terror at what Owen would do.

Owen’s eyes narrowed to tiny slits in his face, and he jerked back all at once like Jack had burned him. “Isn’t it your fucking job to keep the customer going-... stop laughing, you stupid little shit!” He grabbed Jack to pull him away from Kauri, except he’d forgotten their wrists were restrained together and when he did that, he jerked Kauri up to nearly sitting, too. Then Owen groaned and shoved Jack back again. Jack fell onto Kauri’s chest, but pushed himself off pretty quick, careful to do his best not to hurt him.

“Nah, man. If you can’t stay hard in me, that’s your problem. Nothing I can do fixes...that. That’s on you,” Jack said, laughter trailing off by now. He withdrew from Kauri and stroked a hand up and down his side, slow and gentle, an absent reassurance. “That’s… sleep deprived, maybe not enough food, uh… drugs. That’s all you. You need blue pills. And I don’t have any, ‘cause I take care of m’self.”

Kauri let out a soft exhale, then couldn’t stop himself - he laughed, too, although not directly at Owen. “Jack, you ate ramen packets twice a day for a week once.”

“I sleep, though!” Jack said, pushing at him. “And I don’t do drugs. And I’m not old.”

“Shut up!” Owen half-shouted, interrupting them. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, but the moment was gone and he could damn well feel it. And in front of Kauri, no less, before he was going to take him home… “Just… shut up, both of you. Shut your fucking mouths.”

Owen swallowed, hard, his eyes moving rapidly back and forth, not entirely under his own control. Then he grabbed a key off the side table and undid the restraints holding Kauri and Jack together. “You.” He turned his eyes on Kauri, who cringed back and away from the expression. Owen snorted and grabbed him by the arm, shoving Jack to the side with no gentleness, slapping the manacle back on Kauri’s wrist and threading it through the headboard before he closed the other end around the other one. “You’ll stay right the fuck here.”

Then he turned his eyes on Jack.

“You… you’re going in the bathroom with me.”

“Sure, man. Whatever you say,” Jack nodded. He tried not to be obvious about watching where that key went. He jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “This way, yeah?”

Owen rolled his eyes, leaning over to grab Kauri by the hair and slam his head back, a violent thunk into the headboard, listening to his half-muffled groan - and watching him go a little limp - with a flare of satisfaction. Jack choked back a protest, grit his teeth, looked away.

Who was laughing now, huh? He did it one more time for good measure. This time, Kauri didn’t even make a sound

Then he dropped the key into the drawer of the side table next to the bed. His eyes danced around the room, lighting on everything but struggling to focus, until they landed on a pair of cuffs he'd brought. Clearly bondage cuffs and not exactly torture material, but whatever.

He picked those up and pointed at the bathroom, glaring at Jack. "In. Now."

Jack threw up his hands in a frustrated sort of gesture, or a whatever, and walked to the bathroom. As he stepped in, he placed himself near the side of the counter closest to the electrical outlet. Hairblower would be in the drawer there. Hairpins would be with them. He turned to face Owen. “I do switch, so I could give you a great prostate orgasm if that’s something you’re interested in. Satisfaction guarantee~ Mind if I piss first, though?”

"Shut up," Owen said, but it was half-hearted and clear he didn't actually expect Jack to obey. "Listen to me." He jerked Jack's hand close, buckling the cuff on quickly - he'd had so much practice with Kauri it was nearly second-nature, even now - and twisting the short chain around the leg of the bathroom vanity counter, then grabbed his other wrist. Once he was hooked up, he took a breath, closed his eyes, seemingly trying to calm down.

"Listen to me," he said again. Clearly unaware he'd already said it once.

"He loves me. And he'll remember that soon enough. If I have to knock all his fucking teeth out this time… no, Kauri." He shook his head like a dog shaking off water. "No, I can bash his fucking brains in until he remembers. I paid a lot of fucking money. What are you, a fucking whore for hire."

“... look, man, whoever you’re pining over - maybe you should take this up with Vince instead of Kauri, huh?” he said, remembering the name Owen had called Kauri earlier. “You can make a guy take you up the ass, but you can’t make him love you. Can’t make anybody love you - hell, I couldn’t make my own mom love me and she’s the person who’s supposed to, right? What luck are you gonna have with this poor kid? ‘S not love, ‘s trained responses.”

Owen stared at him, then barked out a strange, bitter laugh. "Well there you go, slut, we have something in common beyond fucking Kauri." He ruffled Jack's hair, but his aim wasn't quite right and his hand slapped down harder on his head than he really meant it to. Jack flinched back. "We both have goddamn mommy issues. No, no he loves me. I know he does, I know… he stays with you, right? What, he's an ass for you to fuck when you get off the, the clock or what the fuck ever, and he gets food and shit in return?"

“No. He’s a friend.”

Owen snorted. He was feeling jagged, embarrassed, and pissed. He wanted more coke but knew he shouldn't, not so soon.

"Box Boys don’t have fucking friends. I'll bet he still goddamn dreams about me. They do good fucking work at WRU. He doesn't remember shit now. Just me. Just a whole goddamn life built around me."

“Oh, sure. A whole life built around you that he spends all his time running from. Man, must feel good to have a guy in your life you scare so bad all he ever wants to do is run and never see you again. Must feel mighty big, huh?”

Owen's eyes narrowed and he discovered, somewhat to his surprise, that his hands were around Jack's throat.

He stopped himself from squeezing the air out of him - a dead hooker in a hotel room was not the Where Are They Now? Owen wanted to be a part of - and forced his fingers to slowly uncurl until he let go.

"I didn't scare him," Owen said, his voice low, "Until he fucked up."

Jack gasped for breath. He always figured he’d die in a situation kinda like this, but man. He’d hoped. And here he was, breathing again! “... fuck,” he said on an exhale, chest still heaving. “You fucking scared him. You put a shock thing on his collarbone after you promised him you wouldn’t. That’s fuckin’ scary. That’s scary to me, and I’m not the one who has to walk around with his goddamn bones aching. Well… one bone, sometimes, but-”

He shook his head at himself with a laugh. “Anyway, you’re scaring the shit outta him now, too. Who gets fucking high to have sex? Wouldn’t be surprised if you tossed him off the roof tellin’ him to love you.”

"You don't know shit about that. All you fucking know is what he tells you. I wouldn't have had to if he hadn't been sending secret goddamn messages-... Jesus Christ, I'm arguing with a fucking prostitute."

Owen tried to make himself take a deep breath, calm down the fury that threatened to carry all his sanity away with it. He turned to stare back at Jack, grabbing him by the chin, narrowing his eyes to stare into him.

"What do you fucking do that I don't?"

Jack hesitated for a moment, eyes going hopeless and empty. And then the answer came.

“I care about him and what I can give him. Not what me and what I can take from him,” he stated calmly, staring up into Grant’s eyes. Then he smirked. “And I can make him come thinking of me while I’m fucking him, ‘cause I don’t beat his heart to shit.”

Owen gave him a stare that said he would very much like to choke Jack again, but this time all he did was shake him by the chin and then let go, dropping his hand.

"Wait right here for me," He said, deadly soft. "I'm going to get some ice, and when I get back, you are going to watch." He took Jack's wrist to rattle the cuffs, emphasizing the predicament he was in, then turned and walked out, leaving him there.

Kauri's eyes were on him the second he came out, and a headache was starting to drift in around the edges of Owen's awareness. "Mr. Owen, j-just, just let Jack go, he didn't do anything wrong-"

"No, he didn't, but you did." Owen closed his eyes, briefly, against the way the world seemed jagged and painful. Couldn't be a comedown already, could it?

"I, I know, I'm s-sorry I left, just let him go and you can, can make me as sorry as you want," Kauri tried. Owen shot him a glare and Kauri flinched back against the headboard.

"Fuck off. I'm getting ice. When I get back, I'm going to make him sorry he ever fucking met you. Just like everyone else should be, you piece of shit." He headed for the door, sweeping up the keycard for the hotel room on the way. "This is your fault, Kauri. Everything I’m going to do to him, that he gets hurt at all, it’s all your fucking fault, you piece of shit slut. This is what knowing shitty people like you and fucking Vince does to people - it turns us fucking crazy and gets us fucking hurt. Don’t you fucking forget it.”

"I… I won't," Kauri said softly, sincerely, and watched Owen leave. He waited until the door clicked shut and he heard the faintest beep from the private elevator before he yelled, "Jack, are you okay? Did he hurt you?!"

Jack definitely heard them talking, but didn’t really pay attention to what they were saying - bit too quiet for that. He was already fishing hairpins out of the drawer.

“Yeah, I’m fine! Moron cuffed me like I can’t pick a fuckin’ simple dipshit lock like this-” snap, and he was out of one cuff. Jack fiddled with the other as he walked out of the bathroom. “That was the most annoying and unsatisfying top I’ve had in years. And I’m a hooker.”

He had the cuffs off by the time he reached the bedside table. He slid the drawer open and took out the key, leaned over Kauri as he unlocked the other’s cuffs. “Bet he’s going to get a little blue pill instead of ice,” he smirked. And then softened. “How’re you doin’?”

Kauri threw his arms around Jack's neck, holding onto him for dear life. "I'm sorry," He whispered, shoulders shaking. "I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry, I'm so sorry…"

Jack froze, not at all used to this response. He and Rory had come to a point eventually where they watched each others’ backs and puffed up to be brave for each other. Jack wasn’t used to the normal emotional responses anymore.

“Hey,” he said softly, hands coming up to pat and smooth over Kauri’s back. “Hey, you’re okay. I know what I’m doing, here. This doesn’t hurt me like it hurts you. ‘S not your fault, Birdie, an’ I’m not hurtin’ at all. Okay?”

“I, I don’t, I didn’t m-mean to get you hurt, I didn’t…” Kauri sniffed, burying his head briefly in the side of Jack’s neck and taking in his smell - still the same, not the way Owen smelled at all. The hand over his back felt good, and comforting, and like it could wipe away a little of the look on Owen’s face. “I’m sorry, I, I should’ve lied and said I didn’t know who you were but he-... when he touches me I just freeze up, I-... I’m trained not to lie to him and I can, and I do, but he just, I just was, was surprised, I didn’t know…”

“That’s okay, Birdie. I’d rather be here getting hurt tryin’a take care of you than turn around and see you gone. Okay?”

Kauri pulled back, looking miserable and pale as he started to scramble around to try and find Jack’s clothing and toss it to him. Owen had tightened the cuffs around his hands too tightly, and there were red marks on his wrists from when they’d been cuffed together. Jack pulled on his pants and made his way over to his boots.

“We, I gotta get you out of here, J-Jack, I’m s-s-sorry, I’m just-... I’m sorry…”

“Kauri, will you fucking listen for a sec?” Jack looked up from tying up his boots. “It’s not your fault. I care enough about you. I'm focused on taking care of you, jus’ like you’re trying to take care of me, okay? Cool it and get your own clothes on. I’ve got me, and we’re both getting outta here before he comes back.”

Kauri stared at him, wild-eyed, before he slowly nodded and slipped back into the clothing he’d been wearing, the cropped shirt and black jeans and checkered shoes. He told himself he was following orders, and that calmed some of the panic which currently threatened to completely derail him. The panic and guilt, slowly eating him alive.

“Are-... are you sure? I can, can stay, so he won’t look for you if I’m here.” Kauri stopped by the side table, looking down at where Owen had left his wallet - taken his credit card on the way out, but left the wallet itself. He reached in and grabbed all the cash in there, turning to shove it into Jack’s hands.

“Jesus Christ, Kauri-” Jack said, but he still took the cash and shoved it into his pocket. “No. You’re gonna come with me, Birdie.”

“I can stay,” Kauri whispered, eyes wide and terrified. “If I’m here he won’t look for you, I can stay.”

“You can, but you’re not gonna.” Jack grabbed his hand and started pulling him along, into the elevator and down to the first floor. What better way to exit than the front doors? “Keep your head down, buddy.”

Kauri nodded, rapidly, pressing himself against Jack. He was shivering all over, shaking like the last leaf on a tree in winter, and his fingers would be freezing cold to the touch from fear. He could feel his heart pounding all over again, just like when Owen choked him and then waited for him to wake up and then choked him and then-

He caught a sob before it made it all the way out, squeezing his eyes shut, trying to breathe as the elevator moved down. “Jack, he’s gonna kill me,” He whispered. “He’s, he’s gonna kill me.”

“You’ll be okay, Birdie,” Jack said, putting his arm around Kauri’s shoulders and pulling him in. “We’re gonna get out, and he’s gonna find out you’re not there and he’s gonna be pissed, but he’s not gonna kill you. Not if I can help it.”

Kauri’s hand came up and started to rub at the scar over his collarbone, pushing back a phantom fire that raced through his nerves, pressing hard against the spot where the thin, metal plate was still bolted into him, the part they couldn’t get out on their own.

He nodded, slowly, shifting back and forth on his feet, nervously fidgeting. The affection was good, though, and he leaned into it, taking a deep breath. Jack still smelled like himself, like the cologne he put on for nights he went out and wasn’t actually working.

“He’s, he’s so angry and he’s not-... he doesn’t… he’s, um.” Kauri swallowed, hard, against a latent sense of disloyalty and why did his mind still want him to be loyal to someone who was trying to kill him? “He’s… crazy, isn’t he?”

“Yeah, man. He’s really fucked in the head. He’s obsessing, like the batshit guy I was bought for. Totally out of it. And he’s on drugs. People don’t stay sane on drugs.”

The elevator dinged at the bottom floor, and Jack guided Kauri quickly out of it and through the halls, away from anybody wearing a hotel uniform.

“He n-never, he never did drugs…” Kauri’s voice was small. “He used to do, um, drugs before me. He told me he went to rehab. He’s never… done drugs around me…”

As they moved through the hallway, there were a few other people up and about, this late at night. Kauri felt their eyes on him and hunched over a little more, his face burning bright red, expecting to be stopped at any second or to hear Owen’s voice yelling for him.

They all looked at him with this angry judgement, looked down their noses. Kauri wasn’t thinking about how he looked - with his mussed-up hair, scruffy shoes, and outfit that flashed a hint of the pale skin at his stomach - or how Jack looked.

“Did me leaving make… make him do drugs again? Did I make him do that?”

“Nah. Junkies take any excuse they can to get back on their poison,” Jack said quietly, shaking his head. He walked Kauri right out of the hotel, and immediately took the shortest way he could find out of the parking lot, too.

Kauri nodded, keeping himself hunched over, trying to look like anyone other than who he was until they were all the way back into the streets. It had to be the middle of the night, and Kauri had no idea where they were and no way to read any signs. He just clung to Jack and let him do the work, to figure it out.

“Jack, um… why did he… why’d he wait til I was out? Why not just come get us at your place?”

“Dunno. I’d say maybe he doesn’t know about my place, but he said he was talking with Renford. Renford knows,” he shrugged. “Maybe it was easier to snatch in public than break into the building.”

Jack looked at the streetsigns at an intersection, slowly read each one. Yeah, he knew this area. He led Kauri across the street and started walking back home. “Don’t have anywhere safer to go, not unless we rent a different hotel with his money. Think we should do that?”

He thought, for a second, that maybe they should go to one of the pet shelters. Kauri belonged in those… but… Jack didn’t. And Renford was watching Jack. If a shelter took them and somehow managed to help, chances were that Jack would drag them under.

“No, but… but it would have been easier for him, for what he wanted to do. If he went to your…” Kauri shuddered at the mention of the Director’s name, shrinking into himself with a bone-deep fear he could never shake. He’d only been directly disciplined by the Director twice - he didn’t clearly remember either time, beyond knowing he never, ever wanted it to happen again.

“What if-... she, um. Mr., um, Mr. Owen said he wasn’t allowed to kill you… what if… she didn’t tell him where you live?”

Jack stopped a moment, staring at Kauri. “Sonofabitch. You think?” He thought, and the more he thought, the more it made sense.

“...she must either really like me or really hate me. I spat on her shoes once, y’know-” he had probably mentioned that before, but he was pretty proud of himself for it. “Kay, well. Better not look a gift horse in the mouth. Let’s go home.”

Kauri nodded and slid his arms around Jack’s waist briefly, squeezing him as hard as he could and burying his head against Jack’s neck. He took a deep breath and then pulled back again and straightened his spine, trying to look stronger than he felt.

“Can… can I sleep in your bed, um, tonight?”

He slept in Jack’s bed whenever he stayed over, but Kauri wanted to ask, this time. Needed the reassurance, needed Jack to understand that what he was really asking was, can I hold onto you until I fall asleep?

“Yeah. You can sleep in my bed anytime, Birdie. You can even kick me onto the couch so you can sleep on my bed,” Jack grinned, leaning down to kiss Kauri’s head. He understood, though. “Or I can stick around and keep you cozy.”

“Stick around,” Kauri said softly. “And you can use that money you stole-”

“That I stole? You took it out of his wallet!”

Kauri’s smile was shaky, but real. “... fine, the money we stole to take a few days off. I, I just…” He stopped, and kissed Jack’s cheek. “I’m glad you’re my best friend. Come on, I know the bus driver who runs the route this late, she’ll let me bring you on without having to pay extra.”

He grabbed Jack’s hand and pulled him towards the bus stop, Owen’s words still echoing inside his head.

None of this would have happened if you hadn’t run away from me.

#whump #emotional abuse #recaptured #captivity #restrained #violent whumper #intimate whumper #creepy whumper #tw: noncon #tw: dubcon #tw: mutual dubcon #blood #degrading language #abuse #tw: domestic abuse #erase to control

67 notes · View notes

pynkhues · 4 years

Note

Ma'am I know you're super busy and have a million asks currently, but may I be so bold as to ask for a fic sneak peek?

Haha, sure! You can have the first scene of the Center & Circumference-verse Valentine’s Day fic! (Fingers crossed I finish it tomorrow ;-) )

“I thought we agreed to take it easy on the glitter?”

The question’s received about as well as she anticipated by Emma, who offers up the sort of scandalised expression she gives Beth a little too often these days. It’s hard to take it seriously though when she’s somehow managed to get a constellation of silver sequins all over her face. Behind her, Rio grins, like he knows exactly what Beth’s seeing, as he uncaps the glue for Marcus.

“It’s Valentine’s Day,” Emma says pointedly, as if the look wasn’t enough, and Beth resists the urge to roll her eyes as she watches Rio’s grin switch to a grimace as Marcus messily ooze glue onto his sheet of bubblegum pink crepe paper.

The family room looks like a fairytale threw up on it – her craft table having been thoroughly raided for the purposes of creating Valentine’s cards for school – ribbons, stickers, markers, paint are sprawled out across the plastic art sheet Rio had thankfully laid down before letting them get started, and all the kids are there across it – even Kenny, who at 14 usually feels too cool for this sort of thing. Beth steps forwards, running her hands through his hair as she looks at his stack of four boyishly decorated cards, each for a different girl – the fact of which makes her sigh.

“How many are you making?” she asks him, and Kenny blinks up at her, rolling one letter up like a scroll and tying it with a ribbon – a sure fire indication it’s for Molly, his much-too-old-for-him math tutor (and an avid fantasy fan).

“Just seven,” he replies with a shrug, and Rio snorts, reaching over to tie Jane’s hair back (he’s taken to wearing hair elastics for both the girls around his wrist lately, hidden among his rope bangles or beneath the strap of his watch) to stop it falling into one of the open paint pots as she crawls across the mat to steal a handful of Emma’s pink sequins.

“Well, don’t pass them out all at once,” Beth huffs, walking forwards to brush Emma’s hair back too, watching as her daughter preens, even as she looks nervously across her single, carefully crafted card.

It really is pretty – a silver-sequined moon raining down silver glitter on a drawing of a couple holding hands. The girl has to be Emma – if the hip-length dark hair is anything to go by, and Beth blinks, squinting a little at the boy. Trying to place Emma’s drawing amidst any of the boys in her class.

“Who’s this?” she asks when she comes up empty, and Emma flushes to the roots of her hair, shaking her head furiously as she pulls the card to her chest, hiding it from view.

“Nobody,” she replies shyly, and even from here, Beth can see Jane’s unimpressed look on the floor beneath them.

“Tyson Wu,” Jane says, and Emma spins on the spot to glare at her sister. Beth blinks, and Rio groans, already gearing up for this fight. “What? Everybody at school knows. You go all purple and your face goes all - -”

She bats her lashes then dramatically, pursing her lips into a pout that has Marcus grinning, and Kenny and Danny both pointedly staying out of it. Emma practically yanks her hair out of Beth’s hands as she collapses down onto the mat in front of Jane, snatching the sequins Jane was attempting to hoard away from her.

“I wouldn’t expect a baby like you to understand,” Emma sniffs, and Rio pinches the bridge of his nose, ready for it when Jane reels up.

“I am not a baby.”

“You wanna know what everyone at school knows? That you still need a baby car seat.”

Jane lets loose a howl as she attempts to spring forwards and tackle her sister, something that Rio easily intercepts, hooking a finger in the belt loop on the back of her jeans and dragging her back to sit beside Marcus. Beth mouths him a quick thank you, before dropping down on the mat beside Emma, crossing her legs in Jane’s newly empty spot.

She glances over at her daughter, reaching out to curl a chunk of dark hair behind her ear, tilting her head, trying to get Emma to meet her gaze.

“Tyson Wu, isn’t he on the baseball team?”

“And the wrestling team,” Danny adds helpfully, carefully crafting a paper flower, and right, Beth thinks, putting it all together in her head.

“You were helping him with his homework for a little bit, right?”

Helping being the operative word.

More like doing it for him.

It had been Rio who’d put a stop to it, about as unsubtly as he ever did anything – lingering after a PTA meeting until the Wu’s stepped out and telling them exactly how quickly that shit would stop. To be fair, they’d been pretty horrified by the news too, and had made sure it stopped, so Beth wasn’t inclined to be too upset about the whole thing.

Now, Emma just shrugs, shaking her head so that her hair falls back over her face, and Beth sighs. God, she still feels too young for this. She’s not even quite 11 yet. She glances over at Rio, who’s turned his attention back to Marcus and Jane, giving them privacy.

“Is he going to the dance?” Beth asks gently, and Emma’s flush deepens. She nods as shortly and sharply as she can, and Beth smiles at her. “That’s going to be fun. With everyone so dressed up too.”

Picking up a silver sequin, Emma shifts it on her finger, and Beth watches as it catches the light, patiently waiting for Emma to continue. It probably shouldn’t be a surprise when she doesn’t, but still, Beth’s shoulders sag, already making a plan to try and catch a look at this boy at the Valentine’s dance on Friday.

As if on cue opposite her, Marcus springs up to his feet, striding purposefully across the art mat towards Beth and thrusting a piece of pink cardboard in her face.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Om!” he tells her, and Beth’s eyebrows leap up her forehead, her gaze dropping to the card in his hands, and she can’t quite help the grin as she takes it from him, even as all the other kids groan and Rio barks on a laugh.

“Yeah, you supposed to give her that on Friday, pop.”

Marcus just shrugs, and Beth takes it with a grin, looking at the big cake on the front – still slightly wet with paint – and she opens it up to Marcus’ unfairly good handwriting (something Beth takes at least partial credit for, and Rio surely deserves none for).

Dear: Om,

Thank you for loving me, I love you too, you’re the best Om I could ever want.

Love from: Marcus

It still surprises her, how much she likes being Om. The name had stuck after Marcus and Jane had had another too-long debate about what Beth and Rio were to the other, and it had only been when Marcus had said Beth was his Om – short for ‘other mom’, and Jane realised that that made Rio Od – short for ‘other daddy’ and descended into giggles, that the names had stuck. Needless to say, Rio still isn’t entirely sold on his nom de plume, the fact of which has only sold her kids on it all the more.

Beth grins, closing the card and reaching up to hook a hand in the neck of Marcus’ t-shirt, pulling him gently towards her and smacking a wet kiss on his cheek just to hear him giggle.

“Thank you, baby boy,” she whispers, and Marcus flushes, reaching out to hug her quickly before standing up straight again.

“Daddy made one for you too,” he says, face flushed with excitement, and - - well. Beth blinks, surprised. Rio and her have never really done anything for Valentine’s Day beyond have - - well, a pretty passionate night of sex (but that doesn’t make it much different from most days), much less made cards for one another, and when she looks past Marcus back to Rio, she pauses at his grin.

He promptly grabs a folded piece of red paper and slides it across the craft mat towards her, ignoring Emma’s squawk of outrage beside her (“Valentine’s day is Friday, Od!”)

The front of the card is probably the gaudiest thing Beth’s ever seen in her life, a mess of mis-matched sequins, paint and glitter to make no picture she can even begin to discern. Like he’s just lazily grabbed whatever was around to muck around with while he kept an eye on the kids which, in hindsight, is probably exactly what he did. Still, she glances back up at him, and he looks innocently back at her as Marcus sits back down beside him. She tentatively flips it open to see only one line in Rio’s familiar chicken scratch – Happy V Day, mami above a profane stick-figure drawing of one stick figure – presumably Rio based on the enormous oblong standing to attention at the stick figure’s crotch, with it’s head between another stick figure’s spread legs – presumably her, based on the enormous circles drawn of the stick figure’s chest.

She looks up at him, deadpan.

“So romantic,” she says dryly, and Rio promptly cackles, throwing his head back, as Beth quickly snaps it shut before any of the kids can see it. “I think your handwriting is getting worse. I’m going to have to start giving you lessons in penmanship.”

And Rio does pop an eyebrow at that, head dropping back to look at her, and he rocks a little – pointedly – on the plastic art mat.

“Oh, you gonna start givin’ me lessons?”

His tone is so thick, so loaded, that it goes straight through her, dips hot between her legs like he actually has licked her there, and god, that’s not fair, how easily he can do that. She opens her mouth to reply with something terse, when Danny reaches over her to grab some of Emma’s sequins.

“Mommy’s the best teacher,” Emma says sweetly, laying the finishing touches on her card, and Rio nods innocently.

“Ain’t she? I know she’s always teachin’ me new things to do with my hands.”

“Mommy’s good with her hands,” Jane chimes in beside him, and Rio nods again, sucking in his lips and looking straight back at Beth.

“Real good,” he hums roughly, and Beth rolls her eyes, mouths stop, and Rio just grins, slapping his hands down on his thighs in reply. “Okay, who wants popcorn?”

The kids all cheer, and Rio bounds easily to his feet, but instead of going around the mat, he strides across it, until she’s eye level with his thighs, and pinches the card he’d made her straight out of her hands to put away or hopefully in the trash – somewhere where the kids won’t find it.

“Aren’t you helpful?” Beth asks him sarcastically, briefly looking up at him, and Rio widens his eyes innocently back down at her.

“Anythin’ for extra credit, Mrs. Boland,” he purrs, voice somehow both light and thick, and Beth flushes to the roots of her hair, remembering the last time he said that to her in their - -

Well.

“Popcorn,” she says quickly, as curtly as she can manage. “And can you take the chicken out of the freezer while you’re there? I want to make it for dinner.”

Even the sounds of the children’s chatter can’t drown out the sounds of his laughter all the way down the hallway.

#beth x rio #the center and circumference #my fic

38 notes · View notes

tisfan · 5 years

Text

Peas in a Pod (Chapter Five)

Title: Chapter 5 of Peas in a Pod Collaborators: @27dragons and @tisfan AO3 Link Square Filled: O1 - In Vino Veritas Ship: Bucky/Tony, Steve/Seb Rating: T Major Tags: confessions, drinking, background Nat/Scott, references to sex that happened Summary: Switching back, Bucky has a new song, Seb is almost late for class, and there’s a whole lot of questions at the after-concert party… Word Count: 3,643 Created for @mcukinkbingo

Seb’s phone -- well, technically, it was Bucky’s phone -- went off at ridiculous o’clock Friday morning. Which was only ridiculous because Steve had been covering for him with the band, and they’d stayed out late Thursday night and partied like… well, like fucking rock stars, and it had been one of the best nights of Seb’s life, ending with an impressively long bout of making out and mutually masturbating.

Speaking of which, Steve was still laying over Seb’s legs. And the phone was still buzzing. Texts.

Meet early for the thing.

We need to switch back before the show. And I fail all your tests.

Also, I’d kinda like to have my credit card back.

And you need new shoes, you are a menace to arches everywhere.

Seb groaned and let his hand fall back to the bed. Tests. Yes. That... that was a thing he was supposed to be doing. And probably he should not go up on stage as Bucky; his impression was pretty good for a couple of rounds of karaoke, but he wasn’t going to be able to maintain it for the duration of a whole show. And he definitely didn’t think he could fake that synergy with the rest of the band that made a Winter Soldier performance so electrifying.

Fuck. He rubbed at his face and then prodded at Steve’s shoulder. He managed to unstick his teeth enough to mumble, “G’off.”

“Again?” Steve said. For a guy with short hair, Steve had some impressive bedhead. He nuzzled sleepily at Seb’s chest. “Thought we did that already?”

(more under the cut)

Seb pushed at Steve a little harder. Jesus, the guy was built like a tank. And nearly as heavy. “Off,” he clarified. “Clock’s striking midnight, time for Cinderella to go back to being a drudge.”

Steve huffed and rolled over, taking most of the blankets with him. “Yeah, I guess I knew this was coming.” He straightened to look at Seb with a wistful gaze. “You’re not gonna go into hiding and make me find you with a shoe, are you?”

“Well, I might,” Seb mused. “Bucky says I need new shoes anyway.” He waved his phone at Steve by way of explanation. “But nah, I mean. School’s right here in town, it’s not hard to find me. If, you know. You wanted to.” He’d halfway expected Steve to declare them done, a temporary road fling, had-a-great-time-let-me-call-you-a-cab sort of thing. Maybe a little more than half.

Steve didn’t really seem like that kind of guy, but he also didn’t seem like the kind of guy who could do that thing with his tongue, and Seb had been proven gloriously wrong on that count. And rock stars, well. Seb had heard stories, even met a few groupies.

“And if I wanted to?” Steve wondered. He was scratching at the back of his neck, making his hair stand out even more wildly. He eyed Seb for a long moment, taking in the suck-marks along Seb’s collarbone. “I mean, I know it’s weird, believe me, it’s-- you look like him, but you’re not him. I hope you don’t think I’m confused about that.”

Seb shook his head. He’d seen the way Steve and Bucky looked at each other on the stage, and during interviews and photoshoots and in fan photos. That wasn’t how Steve looked at Seb. “I’ll put my number in your phone,” he promised. “And, hey, I’ll see you tonight, right? Free tickets and a backstage pass.”

“That’s gonna be a little freaky,” Steve said. “Both of you in the same room? Bet we could convince Scott that we’d made cloning a real thing.” Steve got up, stretching and showing off that glorious body. The way he looked back to make sure Seb was watching -- yeah okay. “Join me in the shower? Or do you need to run?”

Seb glanced at the phone and did some quick calculations in his head. “I have some time.” He tossed it over his shoulder onto the pillows and threw the blankets aside to roll to his feet.

Bucky tapped his pencil against his thigh, impatient. Where the hell was Seb? He checked his watch again-- if Seb didn’t show up in the next fifteen minutes, Bucky was going to end up having to take the test for him, and that wasn’t going to end well for anyone.

He’d already said goodbye to Tony that morning. Tony rolled out of bed with a squeak of dismay, having a morning exam.

Finally, Bucky spotted his own signature look; hell, Seb looked better than he did. Probably had Loki fussing over him for days. Bucky ducked into the nearest unoccupied classroom -- there were lots, since exams were scheduled. “Sebastian! Here!”

Seb spotted him and increased his pace. “Hey,” he said, swinging into the room and closing the door behind him. “Sorry I cut it so close. It was kind of hard to tear myself away.” He stripped off Bucky’s leather jacket and draped it over the back of a chair, then pulled the layered shirts over his head all at once. “Here, give me my tee.”

He had a row of bruises along his collarbone. A couple of them showed distinct teethmarks.

“Taking advantage of the rockstar lifestyle?” Bucky asked. He was almost reluctant to part with the tee -- it still smelled like Tony’s cologne. “You have a good time?”

Sebastian blushed, red splotches that started in his cheeks and spread halfway down his chest. “Uh, yeah. Yeah, I did. You?”

“Yeah, it was--- it was good. Too good, maybe.” He sucked in his gut as he tucked in the shirts. Peggy was going to kill him if he’d put on more than five pounds. But oh, god, it had been nice to eat pizza and ice cream, and sharing popcorn with Tony while they watched stupid movies.

Seb pulled on his own shirt with much less care and grinned as he propped one foot up on a chair to unfasten the boots. “Taking advantage of the hedonistic student lifestyle?” he teased.

The back of his neck heated-- anyone seeing them wouldn’t be able to tell them apart, he imagined. “Yeah. Something like that.” He had beard burn on his thighs, but Seb didn’t need to see that. He’d be short one pair of jeans, and Seb’s wardrobe could use some jazzing up, anyway. Oh, thank god, he’d missed his boots. “Remind me to send you a gift card or something-- you keep doing your Winter Soldier gig in these shitty shoes, you’re going to permanently damage your knees. Jesus, I sound like my mother.”

Seb laughed as he tugged on his sneakers. “You want to finance new shoes for me, be my guest. Shitty cheap shoes are about all I can afford.”

“Consider it a bonus,” Bucky said, lacing up. “I’ll see you tonight for the thing, but-- good luck on your tests, your history prof is kinda a hard-ass.”

“It’s in the bag,” Seb promised. “Shit, I still have to figure out who to bring with me tonight.” He pulled a face. “Everyone’s probably already got plans.”

Bucky made a face. He’s already fucked with Seb’s life enough, the man probably had a prospective, or-- “Bring Tony,” he suggested.

Seb grabbed his bookbag and heaved it up over one shoulder, then raised an eyebrow at Bucky. “Tony, really?” He made a face. “I guess. He’d be over the moon about it, probably.” Seb grinned. “Maybe he’ll do the writeup for our last lab in exchange.”

“The thing with the samples, and crystallization? Yeah, we did it last night,” Bucky said. That wasn’t all they’d done last night, but the actual chem work was probably all that Seb cared about. “Once we got the sample box back from Dum-E.”

“You did it at his place?” Seb’s eyes widened. “Brave of you. I usually make him meet me at the library or something.”

Definitely not the time or place to tell Seb what they’d done in the library stacks. “I like him, he’s funny,” Bucky said with a shrug. “Go, go, you’re gonna be late.” He took Seb’s wallet and phone and put them on the desk to tuck his own possessions back in his pockets.

Seb glanced up at the clock on the wall and yelped. “Right, going now!” He scooped up his stuff and bolted for the door without even pausing to put it away. “See you tonight!”

Bucky stared down at his phone. Steve waved at him from the lock-screen. It had been that picture for years and he hadn’t changed it. The tour would be over soon. Twelve more weeks, forty-one more shows. Ug. He pulled up his call list. “Hey, Luis, can you come get me, I’m over--” He glanced at the building. “By the university, near the quad. Thanks man.”

Bucky shoved his hands into his jacket pockets and headed out the door.

Need to need something-- the last bit of the song fell into place as he slumped across the lawn. There might be time. His thumbs moved over the phone rapidly. “Guys, new song, get your gear together and let’s jam it out, think we might be able to debut it tonight.”

Bucky tucked his phone away, ignoring the multiple buzzes as his band texted back, excited or confused, or just enthusiastic. He looked up into the sky and laughed. Yeah, this had been exactly what he needed.

The concert had been amazing, and only somewhat touched with the melancholy of knowing the band would be gone again tomorrow. Seb had put his number in Steve’s phone, as promised, but hadn’t gotten so much as a “see ya” text. Well, he’d probably been busy getting ready for the show.

Tony, as predicted, had been enthusiastically grateful for the invite, though he’d been a little strange on the subway to the concert hall -- not his usual puppy-like eager-to-please self. Not that he’d been standoffish, just... it seemed like Tony had finally let go of that crush. Which was nice; it felt like Seb could actually breathe properly around the guy now. He wondered what Bucky had said or done to fix that.

And during the concert, when they’d debuted their brand-new song -- first time anywhere, Bucky had told the screaming audience -- Tony had seemed less excited and more... overwhelmed, maybe? Overcome by the song’s sweet longing, maybe a bit more than it really called for. But hey, Seb had never gone to a concert with Tony before; maybe that was just how he was.

By the time the encores had been played and the band had left the stage for the last time, Seb was buzzing with energy and -- he had to admit -- eager to see Steve again. He caught Tony’s eye and nodded toward the stage door, and they started to make their way toward it, backstage passes firmly in hand.

Seb recognized the bodyguard, Luis, who blinked at him, but took the passes. “Come on, right though here, homie, like we gotta check you for weapons an’ stuff, it’s just procedure, you know what it be like, right? My cousin, he--” Luis went through his speech, patting them both down. “All right, come on this way. Tash an’ Scott are in the green room. Soldier’s signing some autographs out back, he should be in soon. There’s beer and food-- do not touch Tash’s cupcakes. She will break your neck.” The way Luis laughed, Seb couldn’t tell if he was kidding or not.

“Where’s Steve?” he couldn’t help asking. He craned his neck, looking around hopefully.

“Gym,” Luis said. “He does that thing, you know, man, when he’s-- thinking?” The bodyguard made a few half-hearted punching motions.

Luis opened the green room door, where Scott was entertaining a laughing Nat by inhaling helium out of the balloons and talking in a squeaky voice.

“Oh, wow--” Nat said, turning in the chair and staring at Seb. “He wasn’t even kidding, was he?”

“Uh.” Seb shoved his hand through his hair. “He told you guys, huh?” He held out a hand. “Sebastian. It’s... it’s just amazing to meet you.” Steve had mostly kept him out of the way of the rest of the band over the last week, lest they figure out the switch, so he was, at least mostly, meeting them for the first time. Sort of.

“Yeah, he said you won a contest,” Nat said. She absently licked icing off the top of her cupcake. “Winter Soldier impersonator. Can’t imagine why anyone would want to be Barnes. Especially not tonight.” She pulled a bottle of vodka out from where she had it tucked between her and the chair. “Drink, boys?”

Scott shook Seb’s hand, several times. “Yeah, you do, you look just like him, this is so cool, so cool, and… I’m shaking your hand too long, sorry, it’s just kinda a mind-fuck, you know, I mean, look at you.” He turned to Tony, still shaking Seb’s hand. “Are you seeing this guy? How does it not-- pooof, just blow your mind?”

Tony laughed good-naturedly. “It kinda did,” he admitted, “but I’ve had a couple of months to get used to it, I guess.” He reached for the offered vodka and took a swig. “What did you mean, not wanting to be Bucky tonight?” he asked Natasha.

“He and Steve are fighting,” Nat said, carelessly. “It will be ugly and long, and we are all, you would say, shoved in a tour bus like sardines for the next two months. I need new headphones.”

Scott finally let go of Seb’s hand. “Happens, when you’re living on top of each other all the time,” Scott said. “So, what’d you think of the new song? Buck was all crazy this afternoon; like he dodged us all week and suddenly he’s back with this amazing song, like, I’m sure I flubbed it-- I am not the best drummer in the world--”

“-- You’re not even the best drummer in the band--” Nat piped up, then laughed as Scott threw a handful of popcorn at her.

“It was good,” Seb said. “I really liked it. Could maybe use a more upbeat bridge, though. I dunno, you guys are the experts. But I’m definitely looking forward to the new album.” He glanced over at Tony, expecting agreement, or maybe an argument about the bridge thing.

Tony was flushing again, and taking another swig of the vodka. “I loved it,” he said softly. “I thought it was perfect.”

Scott started to wax poetic about the song, some of the complicated riff-patterns, because Bucky was obviously some sort of fucking masochist, when the door slammed open, letting in a sweaty Steve Rogers, dressed in form fitting compression shorts, a tank, and his hands taped up for boxing, followed closely by Bucky, who grabbed a handful of Steve’s shirt. “No, you wait-- oh. You’re here.”

Seb’s mouth had gone dry at the sight of Steve dressed like that. “Uh, yes.”

“Seemed pointless to sit around and watch everyone else file out of the hall,” Tony added, cheeky, then bit his lip, looking between Bucky and Steve. “Should we go?”

“Yes-” “-no.” It was hard to tell who had said what, and both Steve and Bucky glared at each other.

“I don’t want to argue in front of--” Steve glanced at Seb, then took in Tony standing there looking stunned. “People who aren’t involved.”

Bucky took a deep breath. “But, uh… he is. Involved, that is.”

“That’s because it was your dumb idea--” Steve burst out, then shut his mouth with a snap.

“What, Steve? What exactly was my dumb idea?” Bucky was right up in Steve’s face. “Is there something you want to tell me?”

Scott glanced at Seb. “Do you know what’s going on, because I don’t know what’s going on.”

Nat snorted. “You never know what’s going on.”

“You don’t have to rub it in--”

“You like it when I rub it in,” Nat teased.

Seb lost track of their bickering, because he had a sinking feeling he did know what was going on. “Shit.” Steve had told him that the relationship with Bucky was in name only, just to keep the fans happy for the rest of the tour, but... what if Bucky didn’t quite feel the same way? What if Bucky was mad at Steve because of Seb? “Oh, hell, is this... is this my fault?”

“Why the hell would it be your fault?” Nat asked, and at that, everyone turned around to look at her. “What? He said it, not me.”

Steve made an exasperated face, throwing his hands up. “We-- you-- what the hell did you go and write a love song for? Did you think I wouldn’t know? I--”

“It was for me,” Tony said breathlessly. His eyes were locked on Bucky. “Wasn’t it? I thought I recognized that riff. It was the one you were humming--” He broke off, glancing around as if only just realizing that other people were in the room.

Scott raised his hand. “Can I ask a question?”

Nat rolled her eyes. “You don’t need to raise your hand, Scott. This isn’t second grade.”

“Wait, what?” Steve whirled on Tony. “Who the hell are you?”

Bucky moved, suddenly between Steve and Tony. “Leave him alone, this-- this is between us.”

“What the hell is happening right now?” Seb asked.

“That’s what I’ve been trying to ask!” Scott complained.

Tony glanced back at Seb and gave him a sheepish shrug. “Cat’s out of the bag,” he said. “Might as well tell the whole truth.”

“You knew?” Seb demanded.

Tony rolled his eyes. “Please. Did you think I wouldn’t be able to tell it wasn’t you when you started being so nice?”

That stung. “I’m... I’m nice,” Seb said.

Steve made a thoughtful, humming noise. “I’ll say…”

Nat’s hand went up. “Now I have a question.”

“Please,” Tony scoffed. “You barely tolerated me. I get it, I do, but you weren’t nice. Not until this week.”

“Besides, I told him,” Bucky said. “He was freaking out about it. You forgot to mention that your lab partner was the hottest thing this side of Venus. So, he, uh, he helped cover for me.”

“So, you’re not--” Steve held up one finger “-- not actually falling in love with me?”

“No!” Bucky looked almost offended by that. “I mean--”

“Yes,” Seb said, and when everyone looked at him again, he just smiled and shrugged. “Might as well admit it, right? Since the cat’s out of the bag?” How much vodka had he had?

“I wrote the song for Tony,” Bucky admitted. “I haven’t… I mean. Steve, you and I--”

“It was never going to work,” Steve finished. “Not enough room in the bed for both of our egos, right?”

Bucky snorted. “I’m amazed you can fit in the room with your ego.” He flashed a glance at Seb. “The bruises? I thought I recognized Steve’s teeth marks.”

Seb felt his face getting hot. “You didn’t ask,” he said defensively.

Scott threw himself on the sofa plaintively, “Why is everyone getting laid around here that’s not me?”

Nat sat up a little in the chair. “You have not asked.”

Bucky held out his hand, like he was offering to waltz with Tony. “I don’t know if I can last out the tour,” he admitted. “It’s not hard to pretend when nothing’s real. But I don’t know if I can do it when something… might be.”

Tony took Bucky’s hand and stepped closer, almost crowding into Bucky’s side.

Seb tried to make that make sense in his head. Bucky fucking Barnes and Tony Stark? What even the hell had happened? He swallowed and looked back at Steve. “He might have a point.”

“I wasn’t-- I wasn’t going to worry about it if it was just me,” Steve said, then corrected himself. “Just us. If someone saw me with you-- no one would know. But--”

“Christ, really?” Bucky demanded. “Did you know--”

“What--”

“Did you know, did you know he wasn’t me, when you-- whatever it is you did?”

“I’m not mooning over you, Buck,” Steve said. “I knew it wasn’t you the instant I kissed him. You don’t… you don’t kiss like that. This man could place in an Olympic event for kissing.”

“You know, this is great, this is wonderful, you’re all very cute, and you’re talking it out, getting your feelings out on the table, that’s… that’s really, really great. I approve. And… while I’m stepping all over your moment here, I’m just going to ask you to excuse us, but it seems like you’ve both found someone new, that’s amazing, Darcy’s going to kill all of us, but--” Scott said, putting one arm around Steve’s shoulders and one around Bucky’s. “Now that we’re all done with the bullshit, fake relationship shit, I think I’m going to ask our keyboardist if she’d like to boink like bunnies with me, and we’ll get out of your hair.”

“‘Boink like bunnies’?” Nat’s eyebrows disappeared into her hair. “Really?”

“I mean, obviously when I actually ask you, I’m going to be all suave and romantic,” Scott told her.

She considered him cooly for a moment, then rolled to her feet. “All right.”

“Well,” Bucky said, watching them leave. “That… was unexpected. So… uh. I’m gathering from all this, that-- he… and you-- and me an’ Tony... did this work out for everyone? I think, it did?”

Seb smiled and tucked himself up under Steve’s arm. “Yeah, I think it did.”

Rolling Stone Magazine

No, You’re Not Seeing Double

Winter Soldier front man, Bucky Barnes, and long term partner, Steve Rogers, have broken up-- not the band, but their relationship. But don’t be sad, we have the latest scoop on their new sweethearts, and a story that’s sure to give you faith that… anything could happen.

#mcukinkbingo #tony stark x bucky barnes #steve rogers x sebastian stan #rock band AU

15 notes · View notes

rememberthattime · 5 years

Text

Chapter 44. New Zealand

Back again! It'd only been three weeks since Chelsay and I returned from New Zealand, and although the South Island was one of our best trips ever, we felt like something was missing. Did we not have enough CookieTimes? Well, duh, but it was something else... Oh. That's right! We forgot to go to the North Island.

Having missed half the country, Chels & I decided we needed a Kiwi Trip Round II, but this time, we wouldn't be exploring alone. Our friends Pete & Megan joined our journey from real-life Hobbiton to Mt Doom. And so it began: the Fellowship of (adventu)Ring

Before getting to the North Island, I want to briefly mention a work trip I’d returned from only 2 days prior. My meetings were in Atlanta, but if I’m flying 17+ hours to the US, I’m stopping in Dallas. Now, my family had been in Sydney only 6 weeks before, but I hadn’t been home since August. That meant this “house (work) money” stopover was a long-awaited oppo for home-cooked meals, QuizTime by Matt, and board games with the whole fam (Mini Monopoly was the game of choice).

It actually worked out that Chelsay wasn’t with me this trip — see, we can’t play Monopoly together. Her strategy is to buy all the property, lose all her money, not allow me to trade her cash for property, then continuously mortgage the properties until I start paying rent. It’s a ruthless, bleed-out strategy! The winner is decided in the first lap around the board, but I think she enjoys watching me slowly die over the next 6 hours.

That was a tangent... Anyway, I had a great time at home, and am actually returning for another work trip in just a few weeks.

Back to NZ now. I returned to Sydney on a Wednesday, and we were flying out to Auckland that same Friday. I basically just stayed at the airport for the day and a half in-between... Actually, this would have been a viable strategy with Megan’s ridiculous credit card benefits: her perks got us ~$200 in free food! I have to admit: we were so distracted by the free food that we nearly missed our flight. Last ones on the plane!

We arrived in Auckland fairly late, and had a 2.5 hour drive to our first destination: scuba diving at Poor Knight’s Island. I was still jet lagged from the US trip, so hardly remember any of the ride up. Actually, the only thing I remember from that night is that we needed to wake up at 7:15 for an 8:15 dive check-in.

7:15 didn’t happen. I awoke to Peter announcing to the room: “It’s 7:47!” I’m not sure why he happened to wake up, but we were so lucky he did. Our phones hadn’t switched timezones, but thank god’s Pete’s internal clock did. Sleeping any later might’ve caused us to literally “miss the boat.”

We somehow made it to the dive shop in time, but this early AM rush was just the start of the day’s excitement. See, Poor Knight’s is considered one of the most diverse, most secluded, and most best (yeah I did) dive spots in the entire world. Don’t believe me? Well, Jacques Cousteau lists Poor Knight’s in his Top 10, which is like cracking Chelsay’s favorite piece of white furniture. My point: he knows what he’s talking about.

As explained by our Welsh skipper, Poor Knight’s is a now-deserted island that was once part of a 25 km-wide caldera (!). For reference, the ring of that volcano was the same distance from Seattle to Sammamish.

As we got closer to the island, our guide Juergen prepped us for the dive. What safety checks we need to do in advance, what different hand signals meant, which animals we’d see, which animals we’d see “doing it”... Wait what? We didn’t say anything at the time, but this was the first instance of Juergen’s weird and repeated references to reproduction.

Some would say Juergen over-prepared us for the dive - we now knew too much. Anyway, we geared up into our 7 mm cold-protection wetsuits, threw on extra vests and a hood for good measure, and hopped in.

A couple things to note here. First, although normally frigid, we had really lucky weather which warmed the island’s water temp to a very reasonable 20 C. This meant our 7 mm wetsuits were overkill, though I think the extra coverage helped avoid Juergen’s objectifying eyes...

Second thing to note: the 7 mm wetsuit is FAR more buoyant than the 2 mm we’re used to wearing in Manly. After our initial dive descent, I quickly experienced this difference, nearly blacking out as the buoyant suit pulled me up from 10m to 3m in just a few seconds.

It actually took most of this first dive to adjust... and to just remember how to scuba dive. It was bizarre, but an absolute blast to be back in the water after not diving since Indonesia 7 months before. The setting lived up to its billing as well, as hundreds of species, thousands of fish, and infinite seaweed swayed back and forth with the current. Specifically, on Dive #1, we saw a sting ray, eagle ray, several camouflaged scorpion fish, a group of orange spotted nudibranch, and one especially playful wrasse.

youtube

I felt far more prepared for the next dive, which was lucky because we spotted all of the big stuff on this trip. It turns out I’m pretty good at spotting things when (A) they’re big, and (B) I’m not blacking out like I did on the first dive. For Dive #2, we saw two eagle rays, a moray eel, and a massive sting ray. Megan, our group’s most experienced diver got pretty close, which provides reference for how big this thing was.

youtube

A few more things I’d like to remember from our dive day:

My scuba learning curve might have been slow, but Chelsay had zero trouble. I think it’s because of her unique technique. First, I’ve never actually seen her swim. Instead, she sort-of floats around like a dead person and let’s the current do the work. Second, she takes EVERYTHING in. Through a combination of the goggle magnification and her already big eyes, it constantly looks like she’s just seen a shark.

Poor Knight’s is really a great spot for diving. Beyond the fish and swaying seaweed, the setting itself is just really cool. 20m tall pillars, underwater ocean caves, and phenomenal visibility to take it all in.

As if the diving wasn’t enough, our boat (“The No Stress Express”) came across a pod of ~15 curious dolphins on our ride back to shore.

youtube

After reaching land, we had a five hour drive to that night’s AirBnB. This seems like a long trek (basically driving from Seattle to Couer d’Alene AFTER a full day of scuba diving), but our entire group was up for the journey. It’s rare but extremely lucky to have travel buddies equally willing to push for the perfect itinerary, but that’s exactly what Chelsay and I had with Pete and Megan: our mirror couple that prioritizes getting the absolute most out of their travels.

How else did we ensure we were maximizing our time on the North Island? Road trip Maccas and Cookie Time McFlurrys. Crumbly chocolate chip cookies coated in caramel sauce and mixed in a creamy “bucket” of soft serve. ...Juergen would’ve made an inappropriate joke about the word creamy.

Thanks to Johnathan van Ness teaching us “How to Treat Our Skin Like the Gorgeous Organ She Is” and Daniel & Jorge explaining “What is a multiverse?”, the five hour drive went quickly and we were at our AirBnB in no time. And what a unique AirBnB it was.

We pulled into the Big Bird BnB, where our lovely host Dotty stayed up late to show us our cottage. Dotty off-handedly mentioned her animals, which gradually led to us discovering she had entire petting zoo. This wasn’t just any petting zoo though... Dotty had a “collection” of MINI cats, dogs, cows, goats, rams, and horses. Note, not all of the aroused horse was tiny... Juergen would’ve been going nuts. This miniature collection went along with normal-sized animals: pigs, ostriches, emus, and snaggle-toothed alpacas. Damn Dotty, where’s the Ark!?

The exclamation mark on our bizarre but very pleasant surprise of a BnB was the breakfast: bacon and (ostrich) egg on toast, with kitten cuddles on the side.

We couldn’t have asked for a better start, but it was only the beginning of an adventurous day. Our first stop was the nearby Waitomo Caves, one of TripAdvisor’s Top 10 highest rated destinations in the world. ...between this and Jacque Cousteau’s dive spot, a lot of Top 10s in this trip already.

We’d signed up to essentially float through an underground cave on an inner tube. The catch: rather than head lamps, the caves are illuminated solely by bioluminescent glow worms.

After a brief introduction, we once again wetty’d up for cold, wet, damp, and unavoidable submersion. We followed our guides through the cave’s entrance, which was really just a crack in the ground barely bigger than my body. Once inside, the walls didn’t get much wider, though they got far taller. Navigating narrow passages towering as high as 40 feet, we sloshed through running water while descending deeper and deeper into the damp dwelling.

Now 50 feet below the surface, we’d escaped all natural light. The cave itself was wet, but we were also soaked after tubing through underground streams and leaping off several waterfalls. After a particularly splashy jump from a 6-foot ‘fall, our guide asked us to form an inner tube-train. Something was happening — we must have arrived.

The group formed a floating line, though with our headlamps on, we couldn’t really tell what the fuss was. This particular cavern looked like each room before: a long, narrow passage, framed be limestone walls and stalactite millennial (i.e. they took a millennium to develop. Not millennial like... instagrammers. No, not funny? I’ll try another millennial reference in a sec).

The guide asked us to turn our headlamps off, and the show began. The limestone walls and entitled millennial stalactites disappeared in the darkness, but the cave hadn’t quite turned pitch black.... Galaxies of tiny blue bioluminescent lights now consumed the cave’s ceiling above us. Layers and layers of overlapping blue light.

It didn’t seem real — more like an attraction at Disney. This is fake right? The rock is just hollowed plastic, and there’s a black light somewhere back there?

Nope, these lights were very real and (uh huh) very natural. See, the light is produced when underground worms create waste. Through evolution, the worm’s waste began to glow, which attracted and trapped more food. Nature!

The amazing thing is that these glow worms had been all around us, but were hidden by the light from our headlamps.

With all other lights off though, the worm’s shit shined. The sharp light from the cave’s ceiling softly reflected off the water below, illuminating the long passage of the otherwise black cave into infinity.

Shockingly, we were underground for almost 90 minutes, so our eyes had really gotten used to the dark. Exiting into the sunlight felt like leaving da clubz after an all-night bender... which I do often.

We were literally stepping out of a hole in the ground, which is a perfect transition to our next destination: Hobbiton. The fictional home to hobbits, where their homes are built directly into holes in the ground. Does a hobbit’s shit glow too?

The ride over was short but entertaining. First, the views. Having now driven through both the North and South Island, New Zealand’s landscape continues to amaze me. I don’t know how such a small country can have such diverse landscapes. It’s like the entire EU packed into a country the size of WYOMING. This particular drive reminded us of Ireland, with vibrant rolling green hills and a population of cows that far outnumbered the local humans.

Second point to note from the ride, our entertainment: Chelsay. Megan hadn’t seen the LotR’s series (c’mon Pete), but Hobbiton wouldn’t be the same experience without context. Don’t worry. There’s no one better to boil down a 9 hour film series than Chelsay. She should have her own show summarizing plot lines. I try to imagine what Tolkien would say if he’d heard Chelsay’s explanation of LotR... I’m sure he’d agree it was an Oxford-level literary lesson.

With our whole team now on the same page (book pun?) re: Hobbiton, we were ready to tour the fictional hamlet. Our guide for the day was Paul, who was truly living his best life. Describing Paul as “a big LotR guy” would be an undersell. There’s a 120% chance he dressed up as Gandalf for the movie premiers. We couldn’t have gotten a better tour guide though, as Paul’s enthusiasm was infectious.

Not only was Paul Middle Earth’s biggest cheerleader, but he clearly knew his stuff. As we perused the Green Dragon Inn or Bag-End, Paul shared insider stories from Hobbiton’s history.

Before filming started, Peter Jackson, LotR’s Oscar-winning director, had flown over this farmland and thought it would be the perfect Hobbiton. He landed his helicopter and approached the owner, asking if the farmer would allow a film set on his property.

Not hip to the fantasy fiction culture, the farmer rejected the offer and told Jackson that “he, his helicopter, and their Harry Potter magic riff raff could bugger off.” I’m paraphrasing.

That night the farmer told his family about the cooky Hollywood director. The farmer’s son (more hip to the fantasy fiction culture) saw LotR’s dollar sign potential and called his dad a “daft sod.” Dad called Jackson the next day and the rest is history.

EXCEPT NOT! After LotR finished filming, they tore the set down! The first trilogy wrapped up in 2003, and without further need for Hobbit holes, the farmer took his land back. Great. Except he was missing out on a huge tourist opportunity.

Luck again saved our fortuitous farmer friend though, as LotR was so successful that Jackson pursued a second trilogy, The Hobbit. The filmset was built back up, but this time, they didn’t tear ‘nuffin down after filming. Instead, they put up a sign that read “Nerds welcome,” and the tourist crowds came in droves. Our group included.

The set is genuinely a fairy tale. What used to be open farmland is now truly Hobbiton, with 39 (!) intricately detailed homes, each etched with hints of the occupant’s occupation. Florist, baker, village drunk. Led by fanatical Phil, we paraded through “precious” pathways (alliterative Golem reference), trying our luck at hobbit games like stilts, and quenching our thirst with brewed-on-site beverages.

The fairy tale hamlet was buzzing and jovial, but we had to get a move on because that night’s AirBnB was about two hours south.

The drive a stark contrast to Hobbiton as it included almost zero humans. I mean that in two ways: there was both a lack of civilization, and also everyone in the car fell asleep during my turn to drive. Daniel & Jorge were the only ones to keep me company, and they rambled on about small-talk-topics like whether the universe is random or chaotic.

Shockingly, we came across a small town closer to our AirBnB. Thank god because we’d finished all the car ride CookieTimes and I was hungry. There appeared to be only one restaurant in this town, and its name was Rust — not the most appealing description. With few alternatives, we shot our shot and the meal was a massive success. Massive is the key descriptor. These burgers needed a butchers knife to stay upright.

It was necessary sustenance though, as our hike the next day, the Tongariro Crossing, required all the energy we could muster (mustard? Burger pun? ...I’m tired and writing this from a 24 hr plane ride to London).

For a bit of extra energy, we slept-in the next morning and took our time with a tasty fried egg breakfast courtesy of Chef Pete. Unfortunately this slower start created a new risk. See, Tongariro is a 19 km one-way hike: you park at the trail-end, then take a shuttle up to the start. However, because it’s such a long hike, most trekkers start early so the shuttle only runs from 5 AM to 10 AM. We pulled into the lot at 10:08. Ohhhhh, pickles.

Luckily there was a man wearing an orange construction vest. He looked official, like a park ranger, but honestly he could’ve been anyone. We asked him if he knew a way to get back to the trailhead, and because he had a truck, asked if he could give us a ride. I don’t want to give this guy too much credit because I’m sure he’s perfected this with hundreds of sleepy-headed tourists, but the savvy SOB responded “You got cash?” Goodonya mate. This burly Maori man is in the middle of nowhere New Zealand, and he’s created his very own Uber for Idiots Who Slept In. I’m immediately recommending him to EY’s Entrepeneur of the Year program.

“Joe”, as he introduced himself, was actually a really nice guy. He offered to pull over for pictures, asked if we needed any sunscreen, and even told us about his family. He was proud that his eldest daughter had just shot three deer... which means he has guns... which means we weren’t pulling over for any pictures... actually we just want to get out of Joe’s truck asap.

The ride was quite long (30 minutes), so upon safe delivery, we thought we were being generous when we offered 40 AUD to Joerotorua (we were skeptical of his white person name so made up our own). Joe really had us by the balls when he responded “That’s all?” We played dumb, sheepishly smiled, and quickly exited.

Woo. I joke about Joerotorua, but he actually saved us. Our day could’ve been seriously sidetracked if he hadn’t helped-a-Hobbit out. Thanks to his entrepreneurial venture though, we ended up right where we needed to be: the Tongariro Crossing trailhead.

Now, Tongariro was actually a tough fit into our initial itinerary. When planning, we struggled to justify forcing this out-of-the-way hike into an already packed agenda... I mean, we’d already been to Poor Knight’s, Waitomo Glow Worm Caves, and Hobbiton. Was it really worth it? Let’s have a Googl-WE’RE GOING! It took about two Google images to realize this other worldly landscape was a must-do.

And so we set off, taking our first steps into the 19.4 km trek. The payoff was essentially immediate. Within the first few Ks, we were navigating towns of bizarre lava formations, trekking through Martian deltas under LotR’s Mt Doom, and conquering what we would later find out is called The Devil’s Staircase.

We were really lucky with the weather. As I write this, I’m not sure I even appreciate how lucky we were. Spoiled brat. This particular weekend, the traditionally hit or miss North Island was hit by and Aussie Heatwave (and I don’t just mean my sexy mid-length socks *wink*). But seriously, it was hot. 90 degrees. No shelter or shade. Walking on an active volcano. Like a desert mirage, the horizon shimmered into a sweltering haze.

Like Frodo and the Fellowship, we fought the dark powers of Mt Doom’s incline before reaching the trail’s saddle. From here, the 360 degree views were unbelievable. I specifically remember looking out at the perfect desolate symmetry of Mt Doom and thinking “This is crazy.” The I turned 180 degrees to see the otherworldly colors of an exploded volcanic crater and thought: “THIS is crazy!” Then I walked 100 yards to find sulfuric steam rising from emerald lakes located between Martian lava fields and I thought: “EVERYTHING is crazy!”

youtube

We stopped for some epic-LotR journey footage on Pete & Megan’s drone (aka Charles Lindbergh), before enjoying potentially the most picturesque picnic of my life. In terms of hard grades, the views were and absolutely unbeatable A+. Our entertainment was also 10/10: a super friendly Kiwi who showed us how to quickly descend the scree via skip (we called it the “graceful little prance”... or was it “graceful little prince”. It works either way). The only F grade: a sulfuric fart smell hanging in the air.

Now, Poor Knight’s, Waitomo, and Hobbiton (+ Dotty’s animal farm) all exceeded expectations. They were dope, but it was this track, the late add to the itinerary, Tongariro Crossing, that I’ll remember most from the North Island.

Mt Doom and our 19km hike through Mordor was truly a full-day activity. Following our eight hours on the trail, we had a two hour drive to our final stop of the trip, Rotorua (yes, of “Joerotorua”). By the time we arrived, the only sensible option was a second round of Maccas. Imagine how badly Frodo and Samwise would’ve wanted a CookieTime McFlurry after their own hike through Mordor.

We passed out *herd* (Chelsay saying “hard” in her hood voice) that night, but were surprising spry the next morning. It was our last day on the North Island, and Rotorua (aka RotoVegas... that’s not a joke) had plenty to offer.

We had three options for the day. First, street luge. Yerp. Second, redwoods. Yerp. Third, geothermal hotspots. Ehhhh. We decided to pass given we’d endured enough fart smells at Tongariro (...I’m also pretty sure Joerotorua let a rage-one rip after we shorted him with 40 AUD). Anyway, we decided to focus on the first two picks.

Stop one was the famous Rotorua Street Luge. This place was another adult playground... I’m surprised Queenstown didn’t have a street luge. Oh wait, they did? Makes sense. But the Rotorua version is bigger and better!

We decided one run wouldn’t be enough, so signed up for three. For the first luge, we went conservative in the intermediate lane. It was good getting a feel for the track, but once we’d raced to the bottom, we were ready for Expert.

It was here that our group became known to the locals. They started calling us the “Bomb Squad”... (They didn’t, but I’m retroactively adding it). Our four-person havoc wreaking, hell raising, Harry Potter magic riff raff group bombed down the track as we passed far more conservative Chinese tourists and liberally braking/highly offended families. They’ll forever remember the Bomb Squad. A couple other notes from the luge:

You actually go quite fast (up to 30 mph), and the Expert track dips to help you power through turns.

My stomach flipped a little as I pulled two wheels off the ground on one particularly hard turn.

I’m not sure Chelsay applied her brakes. Like, not once.

youtube

Like the real Vegas, RotoVegas was toasty, so our next stop was a welcomed reprieve: Rotorua’s redwood forests. After stepping out of the car to the parking lot’s sulfuric smell, we escaped from both the fart scent and the sun into the pine-y shade of the redwoods. It was here that we were able to reflect on what and action-packed four days it had been.

I’ve always said that the sign of a great trip is the ability to point to a memorable activity from each day. Well, damn. One day we went scuba diving in one of the top dive sites in the entire world, spotting horn-tailed sting rays and even hornier-tailed dive instructors. The next day we explored a seemingly fake glow worm cave, followed by a visit to a seemingly real-life Hobbiton. Then we trekked through Tongariro (aka Mordor... aka Mars... aka Joerotorua’s place of business). Finally, we wrapped up with street luge and big ass trees.

This isn’t even to mention the wonderful company Chelsay and I got to share. Sure, the itinerary delivered an amazing four days, but what made this trip truly special was spending it with our mirror couple Manly fam (aka the Bomb Squad).

youtube

0 notes

game-refraction · 7 years

Text

I built a new PC - A Technophile's Journey

There comes a time in every man, women and child’s life when their current computer just isn’t up to the daily tasks you throw at it. It’s time for an upgrade. Recently I did just that, and I want to take you on the journey into my new PC experience.

The FX6802-07c

Let’s go back to where my current system started. Back in Late 2009 (September or October, I don’t recall) I walked into my local FutureShop store and started browsing, like I always did. I loved looking at electronics and I enjoyed ogling all the stuff I wish I had. I don’t recall what computer I had at that time, but I know it was some cobbled together mid spec’d system that did just enough to do what I needed it to do, which was gaming. In the FutureShop Computer section a shiny black and orange motif caught my eye. This was a Gateway FX 6802-07c, a FutureShop exclusive model that had a Core i7 920 CPU, 12GB of memory, and an Nvidia Geforce GTX 260 graphics card. This thing was light years beyond my current system, and the price was amazing. $1,500 +tax, including a 23” wide-screen LCD. I was sold. I wanted it. No – I NEEDED it. After a phone call to the (ex)wife to convince her that I needed this beast of a machine it was decided to go ahead. Lucky for us, the FutureShop employee discussed with me that if I got a FutureShop credit card, I could pay for this computer monthly with no interest. It was as if the stars and planets had aligned and I was destined to get this computer. The transaction processed flawlessly and it was mine. I was giddy as I walked out of the store with my 2 big boxes. I couldn’t drive fast enough to get home and tear into the packages and get this machine running.

Fast forward 7 years and 8 months later, this time it is June 2017. The FX6802-07c sits on my desk, seemingly happy to chug away at my games of World of Tanks or a moderately modded Skyrim. Our video editing from conventions, slow but still get done. This machine, which at the time I named back in 2009 as ‘IX’ (from Dune, the planet of new machines, as I am a huge Dune fan) had been slightly upgraded over the years. A new Asus GTX 560ti in 2014, a 120Gb Kingston SSD in 2014. Everything else was stock, aside from a new 32” LG LCD TV as bigger monitor. The 23” one still worked, and was my transportable screen when I went over to a friend’s house for our Lan parties.

I take good care of my computers, and my family’s computers. Every 6 months they get a decent dusting and maybe a system tune up. I always keep them running as smooth as possible when I can, and always fix any issues with them that arise. IX had been solid and never let me down, but I knew that his age was catching up with him. While windows always ran smooth and fine, and other than video editing and rendering taking a long time, which is normal, things were seeming fine. Skyrim ran decently fine, but did crash from time to time, and I attributed that to the mods, which probably was 99% accurate. I had switched cases from the stock Gateway case a month earlier, needing a visual refresh of the computer. This new case had a small window on the side panel so I could see in. I don’t know exactly how I discovered it, but I was looking in the window one morning while I was killing time before work, and it practically hit me in the face. A puffy capacitor.

Now for those of us not technically savvy like myself, the motherboard has lots and lots of capacitors, they are like little batteries that charge and discharge, and generally help stabilize voltage and signal levels in circuit paths. I won’t go into too much more detail, because it isn’t really that important. Generally, the capacitors (or caps) used in computers are of the electrolytic type. They have an electrode and a dielectric, which is generally a fluid. Over time the fluid dries out or expands, which causes the pressurized can of the cap to bulge or pop. You see this type of failure lots on older motherboards. When this happens, the machine will begin to fail and it’s time for a new computer. Here is a quick video from Linus Tech Tips which explains a little more detail.

Those of us who are capable in electronics have the ability, tools and knowledge to attempt a repair of this type of failure, but a repair shop might charge a lot of money for this repair because it is tricky and time consuming (well not really, it’s more of an annoyance). Since I am one of these people I decided to attempt the repair.

The bad capacitor, it looks puffy

2 Similar caps that are still good

So, after dismantling all the components from the motherboard, and removing the motherboard from the case, I took it to work where my soldering station is located. I won’t go into too much detail of the repair, but I did end up removing and replacing the damaged cap, and when hooking everything back up it continued to work. IX was back to his old self and things were back to normal.

But this isn’t exactly true. You see I am a technophile, and I love tech, which is probably why I work in the R&D department of an Oilfield instrumentation company. I work with electronics every day, and I work on a computer at least 16 hours a day. I used to be a big follower of computer modding, and tried keeping up with the tech back before 2009, but without ever having a budget to spend on these new parts and gear, it was always just a pipe dream to build a monster system. When I purchased IX, which was my first boxed system, I kind of let all that slip away, because this was the monster system (at the time) and it ran every game and task I threw at it without blinking. Now in the months leading up to the cap issue with IX, I was determined to build a new gaming system again, as Skyrim wasn’t running as smoothly as I wanted, and with all the new PC titles out there I wasn’t able to fully enjoy them to their visual glory. I shopped online, looked over specs and prices, compared pre-built systems to base parts and I wasn’t set on any one thing, and I needed money. Due to the age of IX, this was going to be a full upgrade. As a starting point, I know I needed a new video card, but the limitations of my older CPU meant a bottleneck. The CPU, being a 1st generation i7. It would need to be upgraded, and because a new CPU was needed, so was a new motherboard and ram. So, I decided I needed a new CPU, motherboard, ram and video card. I could reuse the power supply and hard drives, since they were still good and I could save a little bit of money, possibly getting me a new system sooner (I hate waiting). I browsed some pre-built system sites, to give me an idea of what the cost would be for a pre-built system, then I went and priced out comparable parts on the main retailers I use (NCIX, Newegg Canada and Memory Express). In any case with just the base 4 components I mentioned above, I was looking at about $1,000CAN or more as a starting point. I would need time to save up and get a budget together to allow me to buy something. Often the pre-built systems seemed the most tempting, as they were complete and tested, and I could also remove parts most of the time like the hard drives to save a little on the price. I had an idea of what I wanted to do, I just needed time to get some funds together. Did I mention I hate waiting?

No Pax – Boo, New House – Yay!

As luck would have it, time was on my side. Every year, Tali and I plan to go to Pax West in Seattle. We “try” to save up for it, but you know how that goes. Now before you get the idea that I spent our vacation money, no, that isn’t what I did, and we cancelled our trip to Seattle for different reasons. You see we bought a house, and we move in August. So, when we were discussing the option of buying a house, or going on a trip to Seattle to take part in the amazing Pax West convention for my 5th time. It was a tough choice, but ultimately, we decided buying a house was better for the long run. Don’t worry Game-Refraction is still going to Pax West, just Tali and I are not going. We will go next year. You see we have also been working diligently on our finances this year, and we’ve made amazing progress on our debt load. Anyway, it seems I went off topic a little. Where was I ……

Oh yes, we decided to buy a house, and to make that possible we cashed out a bit of both our RRSP’s to make the down payment. This is a standard practice with buying a house in Canada, so we decided that if I withdrew a little extra, say $1,000, I could potentially use that to build a new PC. Now as nice as I would love to build a monster system with an unlimited budget, I have always had some sort of financial end cap that would restrict the amount of hardware I would be allowed to purchase. While this makes me financially responsible, it can be restricting in a sense that I won’t be able to get the latest and greatest. I felt this was a challenge, I had a limit of $1,000, let’s see if I could get everything I needed and stay within the budget. Going over the budget meant that item would have to wait until I had saved up a little more funds. Challenge accepted.

I knew a pre-built system was totally out of the question unless I felt I would get lower end stuff, and I wanted to go a little higher end. Did I mention I hate waiting?

I spec’d out the 4 main components over the course of a few hours on a Saturday, tossed the list to a few tech savvy friends to make sure that I wasn’t a fool in my picking. They all said it looked decent. The parts I settled on were as follows:

Motherboard – ASUS ROG STRIX B250H GAMING LGA1151 DDR4 HDMI DVI M.2 USB 3.1 B250 ATX Motherboard

CPU – Intel BX80677I57400 7th Gen Core Desktop Processors

CPU cooler – Corsair Hydro series H60 AiO

Memory – Kingston HyperX FURY Black 16GB Kit (2x8GB) 2133MHz DDR4 Non-ECC CL14 DIMM Desktop Memory (HX421C14FBK2/16)

GPU – ASUS Geforce GTX 1050 Ti 4GB ROG STRIX HDMI 2.0 DP 1.4 Gaming Graphics Card (STRIX-GTX1050TI-4G-GAMING) Graphic Cards

Now the cost on all the items above, including tax and shipping, came to $991.14CAN. Amazingly I stayed within my budget perfectly, with a little to spare. My original plan was to reuse the new-ish case IX was currently occupying. I decided to pick up the following

Case –be quiet! Pure Base 600 ATX Case

the be Quiet base 600 case, fresh out of its box

Now with the case I was over budget, but I had a little cash saved up and I could make it work (it was on sale for $79CAN). I wanted my new system to be as silent as possible, while still performing great, which is partly why I went with the AiO cooling system, plus I know liquid cooling performs so much better, and it was pretty much the same price as a decent high-end air cooler. So, Memory Express shipped my order on the following Monday, and it arrived on Tuesday (I hate waiting) and NCIX shipped the case also on Monday, and it arrived on Wednesday. It was like Christmas to me, and well my Wednesday evening was spent disassembling, and assembling this new system. I think the hardest part for me was the Corsair H60 AiO since I have never worked with one before, but in the end, it worked well and everything went together. The be Quiet base 600 case is a little taller than my old case, and the PSU coming from IX had a little bit of a short motherboard power lead, which I needed to creatively run behind the GTX1050 for it to reach the very top of the Asus motherboard, since they decided to put it at the very top of the board, when all new cases have the power supply at the bottom (not smart). When it came time to power on everything and see if it all worked, I was presently surprised that it fired up on the first try, and everything worked amazingly well. The best part, was I hear nothing. This setup is so quiet I had to check to see if all the fans were working because they are so quiet.

So now that I have new computer, I plan to be good for the next 7 years and 8 months before I begin looking again for upgrades. I am sure I will upgrade a part here and there (new modular power supply?), but in the end this computer will keep me going for the next while. Thank you for joining me on this journey, please browse the gallery of the build, and let me know what you think.

#bwg_container1_0 #bwg_container2_0 .bwg_standart_thumbnails_0 * { -moz-box-sizing: border-box; box-sizing: border-box; } #bwg_container1_0 #bwg_container2_0 .bwg_standart_thumb_spun1_0 { -moz-box-sizing: content-box; box-sizing: content-box; background-color: #FFFFFF; display: inline-block; height: 90px; margin: 4px; padding: 0px; opacity: 1.00; filter: Alpha(opacity=100); text-align: center; vertical-align: middle; transition: all 0.3s ease 0s;-webkit-transition: all 0.3s ease 0s; width: 180px; z-index: 100; } #bwg_container1_0 #bwg_container2_0 .bwg_standart_thumb_spun1_0:hover { -ms-transform: scale(1.1); -webkit-transform: scale(1.1); backface-visibility: hidden; -webkit-backface-visibility: hidden; -moz-backface-visibility: hidden; -ms-backface-visibility: hidden; opacity: 1; filter: Alpha(opacity=100); transform: scale(1.1); z-index: 102; position: relative; } #bwg_container1_0 #bwg_container2_0 .bwg_standart_thumb_spun2_0 { border: 0px none #CCCCCC; border-radius: 0; box-shadow: 0px 0px 0px #888888; display: inline-block; height: 90px; overflow: hidden; width: 180px; } #bwg_container1_0 #bwg_container2_0 .bwg_standart_thumbnails_0 { background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.00); display: inline-block; font-size: 0; max-width: 960px; text-align: center; } #bwg_container1_0 #bwg_container2_0 .bwg_standart_thumb_0 { display: inline-block; text-align: center; } #bwg_container1_0 #bwg_container2_0 .bwg_standart_thumb_spun1_0:hover .bwg_title_spun1_0 { left: 0px; top: 0px; opacity: 1; filter: Alpha(opacity=100); } #bwg_container1_0 #bwg_container2_0 .bwg_title_spun2_0 { color: #CCCCCC; display: table-cell; font-family: segoe ui; font-size: 16px; font-weight: bold; height: inherit; padding: 2px; text-shadow: 0px 0px 0px #888888; vertical-align: middle; width: inherit; word-wrap: break-word; } /*pagination styles*/ #bwg_container1_0 #bwg_container2_0 .tablenav-pages_0 { text-align: center; font-size: 12px; font-family: segoe ui; font-weight: bold; color: #666666; margin: 6px 0 4px; display: block; height: 30px; line-height: 30px; } @media only screen and (max-width : 320px) { #bwg_container1_0 #bwg_container2_0 .displaying-num_0 { display: none; } } #bwg_container1_0 #bwg_container2_0 .displaying-num_0 { font-size: 12px; font-family: segoe ui; font-weight: bold; color: #666666; margin-right: 10px; vertical-align: middle; } #bwg_container1_0 #bwg_container2_0 .paging-input_0 { font-size: 12px; font-family: segoe ui; font-weight: bold; color: #666666; vertical-align: middle; } #bwg_container1_0 #bwg_container2_0 .tablenav-pages_0 a.disabled, #bwg_container1_0 #bwg_container2_0 .tablenav-pages_0 a.disabled:hover, #bwg_container1_0 #bwg_container2_0 .tablenav-pages_0 a.disabled:focus { cursor: default; color: rgba(102, 102, 102, 0.5); } #bwg_container1_0 #bwg_container2_0 .tablenav-pages_0 a { cursor: pointer; font-size: 12px; font-family: segoe ui; font-weight: bold; color: #666666; text-decoration: none; padding: 3px 6px; margin: 0; border-radius: 0; border-style: solid; border-width: 1px; border-color: #E3E3E3; background-color: #FFFFFF; opacity: 1.00; filter: Alpha(opacity=100); box-shadow: 0; transition: all 0.3s ease 0s;-webkit-transition: all 0.3s ease 0s; } #bwg_container1_0 #bwg_container2_0 .bwg_back_0 { background-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); color: #000000 !important; cursor: pointer; display: block; font-family: segoe ui; font-size: 16px; font-weight: bold; text-decoration: none; padding: 0; } #bwg_container1_0 #bwg_container2_0 #spider_popup_overlay_0 { background-color: #000000; opacity: 0.70; filter: Alpha(opacity=70); } .bwg_play_icon_spun_0 { width: inherit; height: inherit; display: table; position: absolute; } .bwg_play_icon_0 { color: #CCCCCC; font-size: 32px; vertical-align: middle; display: table-cell !important; z-index: 1; text-align: center; margin: 0 auto; } #bwg_container1_0 #bwg_container2_0 .bwg_gal_title_0 { background-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); color: #CCCCCC; display: block; font-family: segoe ui; font-size: 16px; font-weight: bold; padding: 2px; text-shadow: 0px 0px 0px #888888; text-align: center; }

« ‹ 1 of 3 › »

I built a new PC – A Technophile’s Journey was originally published on Game-Refraction

0 notes