Hallo, Gast!
Willkommen in Manchester! Zutritt erst ab 18 Jahren, weil unsre Hooligans finden, dass CGI Blut nur auf volljährigen Gesichtern hübsch aussieht. Und mit diesen Anarchos legst du dich besser nicht an, alles, was die tun, ist vollkommen willkürlich, Chaos pur. Die haben sogar unseren Plot verloren. Jetzt sind wir nur noch ein schnödes Real-Life RPG ohne höhere Bestimmung und eventuelle Erleuchtungserfahrungen. Voll langweilig. Und was auch total widerlich ist: diese familiäre Atmosphäre. Was nützt einem die absolute Freiheit im Inplay, wenns außerhalb davon zugeht, wie in nem Pfadfinderferienlager? Hier ist man tatsächlich noch der Meinung Spaß haben zu können, ohne sich gegenseitig auf den Keks zu gehen. Naive Baumkuschler.

God is love, but Satan does that thing you like with his tongue. Season 1x06 AU
Benutzer, die gerade dieses Thema anschauen: 2 Gast/Gäste

alcoHOElic
#1
God is love, but Satan does that
thing you like with his tongue.
„They’re breaking out,“ he whispered, his eyes wide open in disbelief. All thoughts about that guard he’d just hauled into this cell - and at that time he didn’t even know or care whose it was - vanished within a split second. The only thing that mattered now was that hole behind the toilet, gaping open right in front of him. „They’re breaking-“ he was about to repeat, louder this time. Before he knew it, though, his words were cut off as a hard hand clamped over his mouth and shoved him back towards the edge of the cell’s top bunk so he couldn’t back up any further.

John Abruzzi was probably the last person he’d expected behind a plan like that. Then again, now that he saw John there, practically shoving his finger right into his face to silence him, it kinda made sense. Not that he cared, that was none of his concern anyways. No need to scrutinize his motives as long as he got to be in on the whole thing. Which he was totally gonna, now that he knew. No way in hell he’d let them - well, at least he suspected it had to be more than one guy trying to make his way out - fob him off now. Speaking of which, who in the h-e-double hockey sticks was the brain behind it all?

As soon as John let go of him, Theodore cocked his head and eyed the mobster curiously before his lips twisted into an impish grin. „How come I wasn’t invited to the homecomin’ party?“ he asked, pretending to be grievously offended by being excluded from all the fun they were having. Following John’s gaze, he turned to notice the guard in the corner of the cell, which reminded him that he’d still have to deal with him. Well, first things first. Right now, just because he had the chance to, mocking John jumped at the top of his bucket-list. „Oh, really, Johnny-boy, yer jealous now? You’ll get your turn, so cool it. Just wait in line like a good goombah.“ Of course he knew very well that that was far from John’s actual intentions but yanking the Italian’s chain had proven to be fun ever so often. The sardonic grin on his face got even wider. „If ya promise to cultivate genteel manners, I might consider stockin' up my inventory with some fresh Mediterranean flavors, capisce?“ he said, shrugging. While sizing John up as if to add insult to injury by pretending to make up his mind about whether or not he fit the criteria to become his next toyboy. „Look, cuz I'm a generous giver, I've got a pocket for ya to hold,“ he said, smugly, while turning his pocket inside out so that John could grab it.

Doch je tiefer die Nacht
desto besser die Idee
Manchmal frag ich mich ja schon, was machst du wohl grade so. Also nicht das mich das irgendwie beschäftigt, ich bin mittlerweile voll gefestigt. Ob ich die Tage zähle seit du weg bist? Klar, als hätte ich 412 Tage nichts besseres zu tun.
Ich gebe meinem Ego die spezielle Kur.
#2
God is love, but Satan does that
thing you like with his tongue.
The moment he heard those words escaping Theodore’s mouth, a cold shiver ran down his spine, realisation hitting him that out of all people he knew. Without thinking twice he grabbed the other man, pressing a hand over those lips, which wanted to repeat his discovery. He stopped it effectively before anyone else could’ve heard those words, but it didn’t cause the kind of relieve he wanted. There wasn’t even the slightest hint of satisfaction, as he quickly stepped closer, pressed a finger against his own hand, thus showing him in more than one way what exactly he wanted from him. “Shhht,” he whispered and didn’t even pay attention to the guard on the floor. There were far more pressing matters at hand. Quite literally.
This was definitely not going according to plan and he didn’t like it one bit. But there was nothing to be done that, they had to somehow deal with this nuisance now and he was sure Scofield would disagree with his propositions, after all they were quite… delicate. Right now, though, Theodore was silent and not even uttering a simple sound, which lead to John slowly backing up, letting his hand fall down to his side. He was prepared to silence him once again and possibly even knock him out, if he forced him to, but there was none of that. Instead there was this signature grin on his lips, which always annoyed him even from a faraway distance if he by any chance saw it. “There were no invitations left.” he stated coldly, while turning his attention towards the guard and finally looking at his state. This was one of the reasons why he never would have invited someone like Theodore Bagwell if he had a choice.
Another was his way of never shutting up and saying things, he would surely regret at another point in time. But of course this never stopped him and it never held Abruzzi back from letting himself be affected by those words. He could brush it off, though. Or at least he thought he could. His eye twitched dangerously, as he looked at Theodore once again and he tried to rile him up even more in return. Normally he would have laughed it off, since the idea alone had to be some kind of joke and if not, the other certainly had to turn the things around a tiny bit.
He had to breathe and he should remain calm. He probably should be many things, but calm was the furthest away from all the things he was feeling in this particular situation. As the other looked at him like that, he was very, very close to just straight on punching him in the face. But instead he tried to think of something else, even though he had no idea of what. He cocked an eyebrow and simply looked into the other’s eyes with a cold stare, hiding this fire burning inside of him. Theodore was walking on thin ice and if he continued, he would eventually fall into ice cold water.
And the moment he offered him his pocket? He saw red for a second. John forcefully grabbed his throat with one hand and his collar with the other, pressed him once again the bunk behind them and got even closer. The grip, with which he held Theodore’s throat, grew tighter every second, until he remembered that there was a certain guard right next to them and that he couldn’t strangle him to death, no matter how influential he was even in prison. But it didn’t stop him for squeezing his throat once again, to warn him and making him realize, he wasn’t a match for him. “Stop playing with fire, Theodore. You might,” he leaned forward, dangerously close to his ear, “burn a hand or two in the process.” If only the guard wasn’t there. But Theodore should definitely thank that guard. If not for him, Abruzzi was sure this would have turned out differently. Slowly he let go of his throat, didn’t step back again, though, but looked into his eyes. It was meant to be intimidating at least in some way.
He probably would have tried to make even more of an impact on him, at least as much of an impact he could, with those tired eyes from the guard watching him. But there were also sounds coming from the tunnel in the back of the cell. Reluctantly he let go of Theodore’s Collar, as the others emerged from the hole in the wall. Of course they had to show up now. Looking at the other men first and then back to Theodore, he had to hold back a sigh. “Yeah, we- we have a problem,” he answered the silent question lingering in Micheal’s expression.

[Bild: scott-sig-04.png]
Danke, danke, danke, Laura! T_T 38
alcoHOElic
#3
God is love, but Satan does that
thing you like with his tongue.
Oh yes, there it was. He could see it clearly, right there in John’s eyes glaring these sharp daggers at him. If he was trying to shrug his mockery off, he definitely failed to do so. Must’ve been the stress, he thought, or did he just cross that invisible line John had drawn between them? Usually, the Italian just snootily rolled his eyes at him, brushing aside whatever he had to say because he felt oh so superior to him, as if he was dealing with some dirty lowlife trash, not far above the level of some infested sewer rat living on the streets. Now, though, he was practically seething at this challenge to his authority. Inwardly, maybe, but Theodore could’ve sworn he heard those silent vows to get back at him. Uh-oh. And yet that didn’t stop him from taunting John some more, simply because he felt pretty safe now that he knew about their secret.

Maybe, he was wrong about that, he figured, as soon as he found himself pressed against the cold bedstead once again, John’s hand wrapped alarmingly tight around his throat. Knowing what was good for him, he’d always been smart enough to keep a certain distance from the mobster as Abruzzi was undoubtedly one of the most dangerous men behind these walls.

As soon as he saw John glancing over to the guard behind him, however, the overconfident grin came back to his face. Huh, the poor fella prove himself even more useful than he’d expected in the first place. Theodore bit down on his lower lip when he felt that hot breath of a threat whispered right into his ear but continued to eye Abruzzi smugly. „Ah, John, ya know what they say about fire. Can't burn without fuel,“ he replied defiantly.

The rumbling coming from somewhere beneath the broken toilet indicated the return of whosever cell this was and moments later - oh, what a lovely surprise! - Pretty’s head popped out of the hole. Well, that made this entire story even better.



This whole breakout thing had turned out to be way more exhausting and aggravating than expected, so he decided that some kind of stress relief was in order. And, seriously, what better way to get some stress relief behind these goddamn bars than by bending over an innocent, defenceless boy? Cherry’d get used to it, eventually. They all did. But because he’d been in a rather compassionate mood ever since he was presented the prospect of freedom, he’d decided to make things easier for the sweet young thing by granting him a little more privacy. Which translated to having his men drag him into the shed in the yard and leaving them alone for a while, instead of just taking the poor boy in the cellblock, where everyone could watch.

„Hey now, don’t be shy, Cherry,“ he said while stepping into the shed. „No need to hide, Teddy’s gonna be good to ya.“ A promise he wasn’t very likely to keep - not unless the boy was finally willing to give in and stopped fighting back.

Theodore snorted and gave out a little laugh. Was he meant to play hide and seek now, or what? Could’ve been fun, he thought, if he hadn’t turned round to find someone that was clearly not his cellmate behind him. Eyes widened in surprise, his face dropped when John Abruzzi stepped out from the corner. Fuck. Maybe he wasn’t so safe after all.

Doch je tiefer die Nacht
desto besser die Idee
Manchmal frag ich mich ja schon, was machst du wohl grade so. Also nicht das mich das irgendwie beschäftigt, ich bin mittlerweile voll gefestigt. Ob ich die Tage zähle seit du weg bist? Klar, als hätte ich 412 Tage nichts besseres zu tun.
Ich gebe meinem Ego die spezielle Kur.
#4
God is love, but Satan does that
thing you like with his tongue.
John was many things but above all he wasn’t a forgetful man. Blame it on his business or on whatever seemed suitable. However, another thing his life as head of the Abruzzi Family taught him another thing. Patience. And thus he waited to strike and lulled the other in this false sense of security. It amazed him how he seemed to be absolutely oblivious to his surroundings and how some people might hold a grudge. Like John did. It wasn’t for the words he had said. It was because of his offer to a man like him. To a man, who was clearly more powerful than him in more than just one way. But Theodore wasn’t the first one who had tried to take on those, who could crush him without even lifting a finger, so who was John to deny him of a little bit of a… first-hand experience? There would really be no harm done by showing him who had the upper hand.

As soon as he found out that there was an opportunity, he took it. And if he had to be completely honest to himself, he’d have to admit between the hate and despite there was also a spark of excitement. His fingertips were positively tingling, as he folded his arms, leaning against the wall behind him right next to the door and just waited, after his men have taken care of this young boy, who was meant to be Theodore’s boy. He didn’t really care if he recognized whose men it were but who knew, maybe one day it might turn out to be helpful.

There was a smirk and clear amusement seen in his eyes, as he took one step after another. He was surprisingly calm on the outside, enjoying the look the other had on his face and to know it might have finally dawned on him what was about to happen. Or more why it was about to happen. “Well, unfortunately, Cherry couldn’t stay.” He took his time closing the distance between them, showing off how much in control he was and the other couldn’t do a thing.
He got closer and closer and the moment Theodore was in Arm’s reach, he grabbed his neck, pulled him to the table in the middle and pinned him to it. Stepping just a little bit closer but not yet close enough to touch him, he bend over him, put a hand next to him to support himself. “I told you about fire, Theodore,” he whispered and let his tone drop dangerously low. “Don’t assume it’s gone because you stopped pouring.” As if on some weird sort of cue he pushed his hips closer to Theodore’s, as he righted himself once again.

[Bild: scott-sig-04.png]
Danke, danke, danke, Laura! T_T 38
alcoHOElic
#5
God is love, but Satan does that
thing you like with his tongue.
Theodore’s grin was suddenly wiped away, replaced with a savage curling of his lips.

There was this weird tone in the Italian’s voice that sent cold shivers down his spine. He was well aware of the fact that there was no chance in hell he’d win a fist fight against John Abruzzi of all people. It wasn’t that he deemed himself particularly weak, not at all, but John was taller by a head and quite a few pounds heavier than him, which made it practically impossible for Theodore to beat him in a head-on confrontation. He knew that his best chance to bring him down was to strike when he had the element of surprise on his side. Well, would have been. By now, it was definitely too late for that.

He licked his lips before sucking his teeth while slowly backing off, shoulders tensed up to his ears in an attempt to take up a defensive stance. He couldn’t decide whether it was best to keep his eyes focused on John in order to make sure he couldn’t attack him by surprise, or if looking out for anything he could use as a weapon to defend himself was the better option. Bending down to grab the small shank he stuck into his sock for emergencies like this, wasn’t an option - as if John would’ve let him.

Before he knew it, though, he had the wind knocked out of him, literally, and found himself huddling up against the rusty table John had tossed him at. This was bad. He needed to get away from him, now. Theodore’s eyes shifted in fear as his pulse quickened and his palms dampened. Hastily, he tried to think of something that’d get him out of this goddamned shed alive, preferably without John chasing after him to hunt him down.

„It’s a real bummer I left that watering can in my cell. Why don’t ya let me go, so I can get it for ya?“ He clenched his teeth. That was probably not the wisest thing he could’ve said, but the first that came to mind when he heard John’s reference.

It wasn’t until he felt the mobster’s hips pressed against his that he realised what he had in mind. He didn’t mean to kill him, what he wanted was- no, wait, did he really? He’d never heard of Abruzzi being fooled into doing these kinds of things in here - because if he had, Theodore would know, that was for sure.

He didn’t understand. John could’ve just as well lured him into this shed to stab him, which likely would’ve been a relief to the rest of their breakout gang, or at least try to teach him some manners by cutting off a few of his toes, just like he’d done with Pretty. Not that he’d preferred that but… at least that was something he would’ve been prepared for. This situation got out of hand and the fact that he had absolutely no control over it at all frightened him.

Anxiously, he struggled against the firm grip that pushed him down, desperately trying to shove John away from him. He just needed a tiny opening, then he could strike.

Doch je tiefer die Nacht
desto besser die Idee
Manchmal frag ich mich ja schon, was machst du wohl grade so. Also nicht das mich das irgendwie beschäftigt, ich bin mittlerweile voll gefestigt. Ob ich die Tage zähle seit du weg bist? Klar, als hätte ich 412 Tage nichts besseres zu tun.
Ich gebe meinem Ego die spezielle Kur.
#6
God is love, but Satan does that
thing you like with his tongue.
It was clear they were absolutely no match. John knew he was in an entirely different league and as the other stepped back as soon as he wanted to get even a little bit closer, it was more apparent than otherwise. It was true that both of them were holding a certain amount of power in the prison but when it came down to this, it was certain how different these amounts truly were and if he hadn’t had challenged him, he wouldn’t have cared at all. Theodore was merely a little mutt and John never minded him as long as he stayed out of his business and didn’t make any difficulties. Now he started a fight with the big dogs and there is no way he could win that fight.

He could feel the other’s heartbeat under his fingers and there was satisfaction fulfilling him, when he felt how fast it already was and how it seemed to get even faster, as soon as he came a little closer.
“Too bad then,”, he whispered and tried to refrain from biting his earlobe, when his lips touched it, “Seems like you have to deal with it differently.” He let his breath touch the others ear, before he let him have at least a tiny bit of space. And after all, his intentions and plans how to calm this fire were rather obvious, so there was no need to explain it any further.

The way Theodore struggled against his hold and tried to get away was futile, of course, but while others might have been annoyed by such behaviour, it didn’t lessen John’s amusement. In contrary, another smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, as he felt this rush of power mixing with the lingering feeling of amusement.

He was taking his time, after all there was nothing to be rushed. T-Bag didn’t pose even the slightest threat to him, so why should he bother rushing things, if he could make this a rather lasting lesson by using a cruelly slow pace? The other hadn’t quite earned a quick ending to this, so he simply let his other hand, which wasn’t occupied by holding him down, travel down his side and over his back, casually but definitely promising that this was only the beginning.

There was no hesitation at all in the way he let his hand travel further down, after he had let it linger a few more seconds on his smaller back. He should know what was about to come, as John grabbed the fabric between his fingers. Instead of moving them and pulling his pants down, he simply waited because he wanted to see the way he’d react. And to let him know, he was indeed serious and definitely not joking in any kind of way. “Isn’t this what you offered?” One could hear the amusement as he murmured the words. Well, maybe he did turn things around a little bit, however it had been a ridiculous request one way or another.

[Bild: scott-sig-04.png]
Danke, danke, danke, Laura! T_T 38
alcoHOElic
#7
God is love, but Satan does that
thing you like with his tongue.
„Not like this.“ He gritted his teeth. That wasn’t what he’d meant, hell, he hadn’t even been serious about any of this in the first place! He’d just meant to tease him a little. After all, John couldn’t be further away from being his type, considering he was neither a twink nor particularly attractive in general. Seriously, that greasy hair gave him the chills. Just like this entire situation he’d unintentionally blundered into!

He winced at the touch of John’s hand and tried his best to shift around on the table to shake him off. He couldn’t, and yet John paused for a few seconds, which Theodore saw as his only opportunity to get at least some kind of control back. „Get off me!“ He used it to turn around so he could face the taller man and even though he was immediately pinned down again, at least he was on his back and thus had more options to defend himself. And he did, vigorously.

„You don’t have to do this, John!“ he whined. Frankly, he wasn’t sure why he even bothered trying to talk sense into him because deep down he knew that Abruzzi wouldn’t take pity on him, no matter what he did or said.

The shock, panic even, went through his body, sending jolts of fear right down to his toes. He wasn’t able to say how long their wrangling had been going on already but he could tell John wasn’t willing to give up until he got what he wanted. And yet he fought with tooth and nail.

„What’s the Bible say about that?“ Would it help to appeal to John’s beliefs? His honour? „What’d God say? Yer wife?“ Theodore wasn’t religious, never had been, but he knew John was - however the hell he reconciled being the head of a mafia family and brutally murdering people with his conscience. Maybe he thought he brought justice to the guilty or had some other excuse that allowed him to believe he dealt justly. But this? He could twist and wriggle as much as he liked but this wasn’t righteous at all, no matter how you looked at it.

„Don’t do this to me.“ By then he was begging and it was so pathetic. He was at the end of his tether, his heart beating too hard, too fast, almost pounding out of his chest while he repeatedly tried to kick John in the gut, or really just anywhere he could reach. He was pretty sure he’d hit him a few times and yet he wouldn’t let go of him. His hands were still all over him, aggressively tugging on his pants to finally tear them down.

At some point he squinted his eyes and then, all of a sudden, something inside him snapped, triggered by memories that used to be suppressed, locked up in the darkest corners of his head, and now gushed out relentlessly, all at once. For a moment it felt as if he was back at home in Alabama, lying there on that smelly, old, raggedy mattress, fighting not Abruzzi but his own father. He was just a boy, so innocent, and he was about to be hurt in ways he couldn’t’ve imagined up to this point, so he was crying and begging and pleading and praying and-

„Please stop, Daddy!“

There was sheer panic in his voice when the words burst out from his lips and his eyes opened wide again. The sight of John Abruzzi leaning over him brought him back down to earth with a jolt, reality hitting him harder than the punches he’d taken before.

Then there was a moment of silence in which neither of them budged an inch. His heart beating painfully hard against his chest, he just stared at the taller man in complete shock.

That was the second he gave up. He had no more fight left in him. He was defeated.

Theodore dropped his head, closed his eyes, and felt himself slipping into blackness. As the world around him grew dark once more, he leaned back, letting himself sink onto the table, this time without a struggle. He didn’t resist when John turned him around again and roughly pushed him down, banging his head on the table in the process. There was not a single sound escaping his lips - not until he noticed his pants being pulled down to his knees.

He couldn’t help it.

His tears tasted disgustingly salty. He wasn’t sure what felt worst. That all his choked feelings were running high all of a sudden? That he couldn’t keep a stiff upper lip, laid himself open to ridicule by that and showed so much weakness? That John knew? That he was about to get fucked by him? That he was bawling his eyes out right in front of him, giving him even more satisfaction than he already had? He tried to hide it as best as he could but the quiet sobs and his shaking body gave it away.

Doch je tiefer die Nacht
desto besser die Idee
Manchmal frag ich mich ja schon, was machst du wohl grade so. Also nicht das mich das irgendwie beschäftigt, ich bin mittlerweile voll gefestigt. Ob ich die Tage zähle seit du weg bist? Klar, als hätte ich 412 Tage nichts besseres zu tun.
Ich gebe meinem Ego die spezielle Kur.
#8
God is love, but Satan does that
thing you like with his tongue.
It was almost entertaining, how Theodore tried to somehow gain an advantage and how he tried to overpower him. And he didn’t expect to be able to turn around, which is probably why he was indeed successful in doing it. He didn’t get off him though and instead only pinned him down again as soon as he could.

The fear was almost radiating off of him and John felt in absolute control. He knew there is nothing the other could do and to see that he knew only made it even better. And his grip only grew even tighter, as the other man seriously tried to bring God and even his wife into this. “I’m only an emissary for all the pain you’ve caused.” He gritted his teeth, smashed his head once again against the rusty table he was laying on. “And my wife would understand.” He was a paedophile and rapist. He wasn’t expecting some kind of mercy from anyone, was he now? He pressed his hips close once again. There was nothing going to hold him back.

His pleading tone definitely lets his blood rush even more through his body, while his words were simply brushed off. “It’s going to be over soon.” It wasn’t. They both knew that. Otherwise, he would’ve already taken him.

His body ached because of some of the hits he had to take before he tried to pin his legs down, but still, he didn’t waver and simply went on with his plan. He didn’t stop the moment he saw that he had closed his eyes and seemed to drift off to somewhere else

Until it hit him.

Those three words were the first words to not only reaching his ears but bringing him to a sudden halt. His hands didn’t move another inch, as he looked into his eyes and he could see the panic in his eyes mixed with shock from knowing, who was towering over him. And everything seemed a little bit more clear to him, as his obvious surprise of the reaction started to fade.

He had heard the rumours, of course, he did. There were not many things missing John’s ears, thus the past of a rat like Theodore Bagwell didn’t go by unnoticed. But he never put much thought into it, because first of all he never cared and second of all rumours were always a little exaggerated. Up until now, it hadn’t been any use to him, thus he never really bothered to look more into it. Now? He might have to ask one of his men to look for a certain file since this might prove to be useful.

Seeing the other like this though, affected him more than he wanted.

It wasn’t because he didn’t want to imagine who would do something as unsavoury as this. This upcoming guilt for stirring something deep inside of him up and letting him re-experiencing it wasn’t the exact reason either. It was how he stopped fighting once and for all. His spirits seemed broken and even if he wanted to break him a little, he had not planned this. It was meant to be different and John wasn’t meant to feel pity him even the slightest.

The moment Abruzzi regained a little bit of control of himself and wanted to proceed with the things he wanted to do beforehand, he did. He tried to ignore the way Theodore’s body felt, how limp it felt and simply broken. It was an unusual sight but it didn’t stop him from turning him around, letting the hand in his hair smashing his head on the table. Although he could clearly see how broken the other seemed to be he didn’t care. He didn’t want to care that he might have stumbled into something he didn’t quite want to. But there was no going back now.

He pulled down his pants, wanted to relieve himself of his own fabric which confined him when he felt the other one shaking underneath him. It wouldn’t have been a problem if it were only that, but as soon as sobs reached his ears, he stopped moving.

John sighed and pinched his nose. He relaxed his hold on the other man, didn’t quite let him loose though, as he slowly pulled the others pants up again. “Shhh, come on now,” he whispered, drew him by his hair a little more upright and in his direction. He turned him around, put a finger under his chin to make him look into his eyes. He could see the tears in his red eyes and the wet tracks they have left behind on his cheeks but it didn’t bother him as much as it probably should. There was this rush again, an electric current circling through his spine and letting blood flow a little bit quicker through him. He wasn’t sure if it were the tears or the power which they meant he had over him but there was clearly arousal starting to build in his body. And John wasn’t a man who didn’t act upon it.

He let his chin go and pushed him down on his knees with a hand on his shoulder instead. It was probably clear as day what was expected of him and even though it was probably better than what he had in mind only seconds before he had heard these sobs, it still was some kind of punishment. He gripped his hair once again a little harder, pulled his head a little more in his direction and opened his own pants, finally, with his other hand. “You know what you have to do, Theodore,” he said quietly, cocking an eyebrow and waiting. “And believe me, if you bite, you will wish you would’ve died instead.” His tone was rather conversationally, however, it was obviously meant as a threat. And both, he and Theodore knew that.

[Bild: scott-sig-04.png]
Danke, danke, danke, Laura! T_T 38
alcoHOElic
#9
God is love, but Satan does that
thing you like with his tongue.
Still weeping bitterly, he was just lying there, waiting. His face was wet from a mix of blood, sweat and tears. Shivering with anticipation, his pulse quickened while he listened to his own heavy breathing, failing to calm himself down again.

He didn't expect John to go easy on him - what he expected even less, however, was that he’d hesitate instead of just taking what he wanted. Wondering what was going on when a few more seconds passed without anything happening, Theodore opened his eyes again and looked back over his shoulder, trying to catch a glimpse of John as he noticed him fumble around with his pants - not to pull them further down, though, but to dress him again. He knew there was gonna be a fly in the ointment and yet he let out a relieved sigh because, whatever change of plans John had in mind, it could only get better.

Before he managed to sit up himself, John had already pulled him in an upright position and tried to lift his head by putting a finger under his chin. He let him but refused to look him straight in the eye. Hearing him whisper in that almost soothing tone was strange, especially because he couldn’t tell whether or not he was mocking him. He sniffed and pursed his lips when John’s hand let go of his face just to rest on his shoulder and push him down seconds later.

When he sank down on his knees, John’s hand soon found the back of his head and grabbed a hold of the ruffled strands of hair. He had him backed into a corner, literally. There was nothing he could do but obey - and maybe appreciate that Abruzzi’d taken pity on him after all, at least in a way. Right now, though, with his face right in front of the taller man’s crotch, gratitude was really the last thing he had in mind.

John’s friendly reminder had him glance up at him and he swore, if looks could kill, the mobster would’ve dropped dead by now.

He knew he had no other choice than to submit to Abruzzi’s will. Not as long as he practically felt the other man’s eyes locked onto his body, which meant he still couldn’t reach for the shank.

Reluctantly, he palmed the half-hard dick right in front of him, getting a feel for its shape. He gave it a few unenthusiastic strokes, smearing precum around the length. It wasn’t like he hadn’t done this before, but that didn’t mean he’d enjoyed it the few times someone had made him do it. Theodore’s lips parted, hesitantly, as he took the head into his mouth while his hands began to stroke him lightly, up and down, until his tongue knew where to go.

Doch je tiefer die Nacht
desto besser die Idee
Manchmal frag ich mich ja schon, was machst du wohl grade so. Also nicht das mich das irgendwie beschäftigt, ich bin mittlerweile voll gefestigt. Ob ich die Tage zähle seit du weg bist? Klar, als hätte ich 412 Tage nichts besseres zu tun.
Ich gebe meinem Ego die spezielle Kur.
#10
God is love, but Satan does that
thing you like with his tongue.
He saw relieve in Theodore’s eyes and clearly showed that he might have been a little too merciful. But there was nothing to be done about that, instead, he pushed him down on his knees. Now that he somehow owed him, he could at least partly pay his debt by behaving. Maybe what he had in mind now could trigger him, too, but it certainly was the lesser evil. So there was definitely nothing to be complained about.

Theodore looked at him like probably anyone in his position would. Yet it wasn’t like he would have been the one letting his victim go, so John only smiled at him gleefully in a more malicious manner. He knew how much the other man hated him at this particular moment but he also knew he had an upper hand and there was no way of him losing it. Therefore he just waited, simply because he could and well, if Theodore wouldn’t get to work soon, there was nothing holding him back to just break his jaw. After all, he was a rather practical man.

Oh, he could see how reluctantly the other man closed in on him, however, it felt like a triumph and spiked his arousal only further, as he felt his hands on him. Without thinking his grip on the strands of hair between his fingers grew even tighter coaxing him by pulling him a little more in his direction to not only use his hands.

There was a hitch in his breath, as he not only saw those but finally felt them close around him. His eyes darkened with lust as he watched him closely, saw how much he hated him in this particular moment and John wanted to do nothing more than to plunge into his mouth, forcing himself down the throat of the other and showing him how much he belonged on his knees.

John did exactly that.

Or at least he forced him closer relentlessly while moving his hips at the same time. “Just like this,” he whispered and tried to silence a moan, which leads to a slightly choked noise coming out of his throat. It’s been long since he last felt a similar sensation, he only helped himself out with his own hand. Now experiencing this touch once again it, it felt like something he could very well get addicted to.

Not as slow as he probably should, he moved the other man’s head up and down his cock and picked a rather fast pace. He didn’t let him adjust to the sensation but simply pulled him by his hair. There was a quiet moan escaping his throat, as he watched his movements and couldn’t get enough of it. John knew he enjoyed himself too much but at this point, he really didn’t care.

[Bild: scott-sig-04.png]
Danke, danke, danke, Laura! T_T 38


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