Obscure
by Carla Jane
Pairing: A Strange Luck/James Bond-Goldeneye/North of 60 crossover Featuring Chance Harper, Alec Trevelyan (Janus), and Lloyd Hillard
Summary: A plot? No, not really, just some sex with ambiance. Chance Harper's luck fails him and he ends up in a nasty situation with one morally ambiguous man and another, very bad man.
Rated: A for male/male/male (slash) sexual interactions, including NON-CONSENSUAL sex (rape)
Disclaimer: Not mine, Duh!
Author's Notes: Reality is an interesting concept that has no relation whatsoever to this story. Rape is horrible. People should use condoms. I don't even know if ants would eat coffee. This is just a fanfic written to chase some demons out of my head, okay, not life. Oh, and 'Janus' It's pronounced 'Yanus' in this situation.
Beta: Beta reading/comma wrangling courtesy of the most holy Dr Ruthless
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~oo(O)oo~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chance Harper:
Sweat was plastering Chance's hair to his head. The city was especially brutal this weekend. People were acting crazy, even crazier than usual. Twice Chance had been forced to detour around fist-fights and he'd had to jump a fence to avoid a snarling dog that wanted to tear off his right leg.
Emerging from a dreadfully pungent alleyway, he turned to the east and attempted to scope out either a taxi or a telephone. Somehow he'd ended up in an extremely rough section of town. Few of the landmarks were familiar.
Chance's odd luck seemed to be leading him on a stranger path than usual today. The milk in his fridge had gone bad, and there were ants in his coffee tin. Chance had headed down to the diner for a caffeine fix, only to have a jerk slam into him, steal his camera bag, and take off. What kind of mugger was out on the job at seven-thirty in the morning? The day had only gotten worse from there on. About three hours ago Chance had attempted to meet up with a guy that'd been sending him notes and signed himself as 'the True Connection'. The nut-job had left word at the Blue Plate Diner about knowing the location of Chance's heart's desire. 'The True Connection' was a no-show of course.
A body hurtling through the plate-glass window of a bar yanked Chance's full attention back to the present. The flying form landed right across Chance's path, making him jerk back in surprise. A small crowd boiled out of the door of the bar. One of them tossed a non-descript bag at the man who was sprawled on the cement.
"This ain't a freakin' pawnshop."
Chance was only faintly surprised to see that his camera bag was at the centre of the dispute. This wasn't the first time his gear had been taken, only to be tripped over in a strange location. Before he had an opportunity either to speak up or reach out for the camera bag, the excited crowd jostled Chance off the curb and into the street. Something big, shiny, and black toppled him before he could catch his bearings.
Alec Trevelyan/Janus:
When the brakes slammed on, the frigid water in the ice bucket sloshed up onto raw silk trousers. A mild Russian curse escaped the man it had splashed.
"What is it now, Gregor?" Trevelyan demanded of his driver. He was attempting to both test the metal of and impress a new recruit, yet circumstances had been less than ideal all day.
"I seem to have hit someone, Sir." The driver's voice was a bit hesitant. "There's a crowd but it's scattering quickly."
"We don't need the local police bothering us about a hit and run." Trevelyan offered a thin smile at his guest in the back seat. "Gregor. Check on the one you hit. We will convey the person to a hospital if needful," the foreigner instructed. "Sorry for the interruption, Mr Hillard. This won't delay us long."
The driver's door slammed.
"Maybe I should just go." The shabbily dressed man squirmed in his seat. "I think I've made a mistake."
Trevelyan shrugged, as if unconcerned. "It's your choice, of course, but do you really want to spend the rest of your life wiping tables and serving grilled cheese sandwiches to the unwashed masses, when you could be back in the seat of helicopter or a jet soaring above everything?"
Alec's source had thoroughly researched this ex-pilot. Lloyd Hillard had nothing going for him. Having a conviction of statutory rape on his file had turned the former Air Force officer into a social outcast. No one wanted to hire him. Hillard's dishonourable discharge had distanced him from his circle of friends. He had little family, and they were disinterested in the young man. Hillard was a perfect choice for Trevelyan's organization.
"You must realise that no one who needs an honest pilot is ever going to hire you. I know that you were turned down by every major parcel service and even a crop-dusting company." The international gangster cranked up the pressure.
The door to their sanctuary was yanked open, startling the morose expression off Hillard's face.
"Pardon me, sir." Gregor grimaced. "The man we I hit has a bit of a bump on his head. He's not bleeding but he is unconscious. Shall I call an ambulance?"
Trevelyan's attempt to suppress his snarl was only half-successful. "Settle him in here, Gregor."
"Yes, sir."
"I take care of my own and I take care of any problems that may arise for them." Trevelyan decided to turn this mishap into a lesson for Hillard.
The young man's frown creased deeper, and his dark green eyes darted to the other door handle.
"Pity your government didn't stand behind you better after that incident with those native girls up in Canada." Trevelyan offered up another sharp smile. "You never did get your side of the story out in the open."
Hillard collapsed back into the plush seat. "We didn't mean those girls any harm. We were all just having a bit of fun. They could've left anytime. They should've told us how old they were."
A limp form was settled onto the seat beside Hillard, interrupting his pouting justifications.
Lloyd Hillard:
Even as Lloyd looked at the door handle, he knew he wouldn't use that escape. The stranger was offering him the sky, his one true home. It would take a lot to convince himself to turn down this opportunity.
Leaving the country wouldn't be a hardship. No one here cared. His mother had remarried a long time ago and was busy with her second family and his only full-sister was disgusted with him over Lloyd's abuse of a girl who was little more than a child, no matter the extenuating circumstances that Lloyd had attempted to offer up. All of his friends had been Air Force. He had no girlfriend. It seemed that he tripped and faltered whenever he even tried to flirt with a woman lately. It'd been that way since he'd got out of the stockade.
The limp body that Janus' driver had shoved in with them made Lloyd flinch away when it sagged against him. He half wondered if this whole scene was a test that they had planned right from the start. The gangster might be checking Lloyd to see what remained of his moral framework. There was no way all of Janus' activities were above the board.
Lloyd knew enough not to react when the blond foreigner leaned over to search the victim of the accident. Gregor, the driver, was back in his place and the limo pulled away from the curb.
"His name is Chance Harper. Chance?" Janus laughed softly as he sifted through the man's wallet. "Five dollars. No pictures. Few credit cards." A newspaper clipping fluttered to the floor of the car. Janus examined a pass he had discovered. "The Examiner. Ah. It seems that our guest is a member of the press."
Lloyd had always thought there was something especially arrogant about an English accent, and this man was a prime example.
The flip of a button unrolled the window a few inches. One by one, Janus fed the bits of Chance Harper's life out into the street.
Reluctantly Lloyd touched Harper's neck. The man's heartbeat was steady. He pulled his fingers back quickly. "What are you going to do with him?"
The lean blond tipped his head to one side and the scars around his eye crinkled up even further. "I haven't decided yet."
Chance Harper:
The first thing he noticed was how cool and clean he felt. For some reason the plush pillows and finely made sheets felt strange against his skin. He didn't think he was accustomed to this kind of environment.
Two men were seated on the far side of the luxurious suite he was in. Neither of them looked the least bit familiar to his groggy mind, but then again, nothing seemed familiar right now.
The men noticed that he had sat up, and it brought their hushed conversation to a complete halt. The expensively dressed blond rose and paced over to stand beside the bed.
Suddenly all too aware that he was nude under the sheets, the man in the bed gathered what fabric he could feel around himself.
"How are you feeling, Chance?" He even smelled of wealth. An expensive aftershave floated like a miasma around him. The blond bent to brush a thumb over a sore spot on the other man's upper arm.
Wide blue eyes blinked, unresponsive. "I'm feeling a bit disjointed," he admitted. "How did I get here? Who are you? Where are my clothes?" Chance stared up at the blond's face. One side was spider-webbed with scars, the other side was coldly elegant. The man's accent was odd, overpoweringly English, but with a hint of something more. All in all, the man was disturbing.
"You look tense upset, Chance. Would you like a drink perhaps? Or should I fetch you something less organic to lighten your mood? There are a few pills"
"Who the hell are you?" Drugs, this guy was offering him drugs as though they were aspirin.
"That bump on your head messed up your short term memory a bit, didn't it?" The back of the blond's hand brushed across Chance's forehead before shifting to allow long fingers to ruffle brown curls. "Janus. My name is Janus. That's Lloyd over there. You're Chance Harper. It's Friday." A chuckle lightened the sarcasm. "Is any of this striking a cord?"
"Alex." Chance tasted the name, noting that Janus flinched a bit as he spoke it. "I thought for a moment that my name was Alex for some reason, but you're right, it's Chance." His mouth pushed into a frown. "What happened?"
"You met us for lunch." Janus continued to pet the other man's hair. "Someone must have attacked you after you left the restaurant. When we came out, you were lying in the entrance to an alley. I almost missed you, but you groaned as we walked by."
Chance stared up at the foreigner. None of that sounded the least bit familiar to him.
"Lloyd!" Janus called out. "Bring Chance that glass of ginger ale I poured."
The dark-haired man wasn't any more familiar. He was younger than Janus and he had a vaguely hesitant air about him. Lloyd shot a nervous look at Janus before pressing the tall glass into Chance's hand. Ice and a lemon slice jostled in the liquid.
"Thanks." His mouth was as dry as a desert.
Alec Trevelyan/Janus:
Between the shot he had given the newspaperman, and the dose in the drink, Harper should be thoroughly muddled and open to suggestion. He made a perfect toy to test Hillard's ability to follow orders, and his threshold of morality.
Alec had been considering hurting the hapless stranger, perhaps even killing him slowly, but a less messy and just as entertaining idea occurred to the international gangster when Harper's startling blue eyes had lifted.
Half the mixture vanished in a few gulps.
Alec smiled his approval and his strokes lengthened, not just tousling Harper's soft hair, but also smoothing wrinkles from the man's forehead and brushing a cheekbone.
The pupils of Chance's eyes were visibly dilating, and his suspicious expression cleared away. "I don't know you," Harper announced calmly.
"You will." Trevelyan tugged the sheets away from clumsy fingers. "Lay down, Chance. We want to see your body."
"I don't think so," Harper objected, even as he flopped back against the piled pillows.
Harper had nice-looking body. He was only lightly haired, solid enough to please, and wonderfully pliable, which made up for the fact that he wasn't the type Alec normally found attractive. Trevelyan glanced over at Lloyd Hillard. That young man was a different story. He was exactly the kind of playmate that Alec liked.
"Should I wait in the bathroom or I could go downstairs while hang out in the bar."
"No." Alec cut the suggestion off before it got any further. "I want you here too." Reaching over, Trevelyan brushed back the thick dark bangs that had fallen into Hillard's astonished eyes. "You're going to fuck our guest, Lloyd." He may need the kid as a pilot but right at this moment Alec found himself wanting to see the younger man undressed even more.
"I can't," Lloyd objected, sounding appalled. "I don't know how. I've never not with a guy, I mean," he corrected.
Trevelyan's upper lip curled, knowing it made his scarred face even more forbidding. That kind of helplessness completely shattered the faint illusion of an old lover that Alec was attempting to paint over Hillard's pretty face. "It's not that complicated. I don't need stupid men in my organization. What you can't figure it out I can explain for you." Alec wondered if Hillard realized that a bullet in the brain had become the only option to working for Janus from the moment that he had climbed into the limo.
Lloyd Hillard:
The poor guy on the bed was wasted. Totally blasted by whatever shit had been in the needle, and some powder that Janus had spiked the ginger ale with. He couldn't take advantage of the guy. Still, even as that thought was born inside his head another tormented him. How was this different than getting a couple of teenage girls lit on booze and trying to screw them? This was a guy, but at least it wasn't a child this time.
Lloyd looked from Janus to Harper, and then back up again. The job might depend on this crap. Hell, his life might depend on it. Janus was no small time thug. The man needed a pilot that could handle the big stuff. Janus ate nobodies like Lloyd for lunch.
Warm skin could be anonymous, and one hole was the same as another. Lloyd skimmed a hesitant hand over Harper's flat stomach, making Chance moan and squirm.
"No. Don't. No." The protest lacked complete clarity or any force. One arm flailed without direction.
He could do this, Lloyd decided. His hand pressed to one pale shoulder to still Harper and then smoothed down, getting comfortable with the feeling of firm muscle.
Janus moved, settling himself on the far side of the reclining man. "Kiss him, Lloyd. You don't want Chance thinking that he's nothing more than a convenient hole for you to plug even if it's true." Janus smirked. "Then undress. He's nude. It's only fair."
At first glance Lloyd had been simply disturbed by Janus' half ruined face, now it absolutely terrified him. Cold authority radiated from the gangster. Lloyd gave into the spike of dread immediately and bent to press his mouth to another man's for the first time in his life.
It was nothing like he expected. It was soft, warm and sweeter than Lloyd had pictured. Chance's mouth yielded even as faint noises of protest came from low in his throat. There was an undercharge of power in knowing he could take anything he wanted without listening to any of his partner's objections.
"Open your mouth, Lloyd. Taste him." Janus instructed in a gravely whisper. "Taste his fear. It's delicious, isn't it? See how wide his pretty blue eyes are now."
Lloyd's stomach was tight. He followed instructions, discovering along the way that Janus was right. Lloyd dug a thumb into Chance's ribs, making the man below him grunt. Lloyd swallowed the noise. It tasted like spice on his tongue.
"Undress, Lloyd. You'll want to feel his shivers with your whole body." Janus' fingers threaded into Lloyd's dark hair, not pulling, just stroking. "You've the same look about you but you're much prettier than James."
Lloyd frowned in confusion. "What?"
"Never mind." Janus waved the remark away with a flip of his hand. "Strip down. Chance is here for the taking. He can't stop you. He won't likely dare to tell anyone and even if he wanted to you'll be out of the country before he sobers up. All of that is assuming he even remembers your face." Janus leaned over to run a finger across Harper's hip. "Lloyd's going to have at you, Chance, and then I might take a turn after he finishes with you. Is that quite all right with you, Chance?"
Harper's mouth worked uselessly for a few breaths before he managed to speak. "Bastards."
Lloyd tossed his gear aside slowly. His gaze kept flickering nervously in Janus' direction. He was a little uncertain that he could manage this with Janus there on the bed beside them but he was also partially aroused by the things coming out of the blond's mouth.
Chance Harper:
His mind was betraying him, working only sluggishly to process what was being said and done around him. His luck had betrayed him, allowing him to fall into this situation. Even his own body was betraying him, responding all wrong.
Chance wanted to jump up, shove away these strangers, and get the hell out of this place, but instead he was just laying here taking it. Something had stolen control of his body away. Even as Chance willed himself to hit out at the dark haired one, Lloyd, all that happened was that he shivered. A faint moan of complaint escaped him.
Chance had to wonder, in a very distracted manner, what they had given him. It was as if he could feel every individual ridge on each of Lloyd's fingertips when they dragged across his skin. The caress had to be leaving a trail of singed flesh behind. Chance was burning up.
His chin was caught, and his face was turned to one side with undeniable force. The blond man was talking, a slow movement of cruel lips, but Chance's hearing was muffled. The words made little sense. Maybe his name was spoken. The man could be reciting the alphabet for all the sense it made.
There was moist heat against his throat. Chance groaned and arched up into the contact. Who was kissing him? It wasn't fair. If he was going to feel this good, Chance wanted to know who he was with.
Dark hair. It wasn't Westin, not that Audrey would be touching him like this. The little jolts of pain that were interspersed amid the pleasure weren't something she would do to him.
Warm fingers were at his leg, attempting to lift the dead weight of it. Why the hell do that? Why bend his leg up and away from his body? Chance blinked, trying to focus his eyes. His concentration shakily followed a caress over his hip, through the crease of his leg and between the cheeks of his ass. The touch tickled. It felt oddly good.
Chance's head tossed, turning to the side when he heard a voice. How many people were here anyway?
A flash of sharp pain cut through some of the haze. Chance tried to close his legs. "NO! DON'T." He wanted to sit up but he couldn't. "You're hurting me."
A hand pressed heavily onto Chance's head, stroking steadily. A clipped movie-actor accent assured him that everything was going to be all right, that he should lay quietly like a good boy, and he wouldn't get hurt.
It was a lie.
Alec Trevelyan/Janus:
Lloyd had been telling the truth. He had no clue how to go about fucking a man. Normally Alec would have let the kid fumble through it however he could manage, but this was a rather nice hotel, and Trevelyan wanted the option of returning here. Frantic screaming, and a huge bloodstain on the sheets would preclude a return visit.
Alec reached out to press his hand to Hillard's bare chest, not above using the instruction as a chance to lay his hands on the young pilot. "Reach into the drawer and grab a bottle of oil." A few different kinds of massage oil were stashed there.
Alec snatched a couple of pillows and after dropping them down near Harper's hips he encouraged the other to roll over onto his stomach. That position had always been a favourite of his when he was watching rather than doing. The sense of control was greater, and it made it easier to see the expressions on the victim's face when their virginity was shattered.
"Coat your cock with the oil, Lloyd," Alec instructed. "Then pour some into Chance's ass if you can." He ran his own hand possessively up Harper's flank, spine, and into those soft curls. "Don't just ram your way in, Lloyd. See how bloody tight our date is. Virgins need a little tenderness." Trevelyan chuckled to himself. "We want Chance to have a good time, just like us."
"There's no way." Hillard whispered, half to himself, as he ran a finger over the puckered entrance to their captive's body. "It won't fit."
Trevelyan's smile was frightening to behold. He was well aware of how people reacted to it. "You're going to have to trust me, Lloyd." Alec knelt up. Cool, pale eyes caught dark green. Trevelyan held the stare while his fingers skimmed across Chance's bent back, to the curve of his ass and then crossed the gap to circle around Lloyd's erection.
Hillard hissed in a breath of air, and his indecently heavy lashes fluttered in reaction. It was beautiful to behold.
"Nice piece. Good weight to it." Alec smirked, his thumb teasing across the tip. "A fair size, yes, but it will still squeeze in, I assure you." Trevelyan pulled insistently, until Hillard edged into place.
"It means something," Alec murmured as he adjusted the two bodies to suit his sense of aesthetics. "When you penetrate another man's body against his will there's an exchange beyond the physical act. It's a matter of power." Alec's tone took on an air of playful command. "Let's get your ass in the air, Chance." The flat of Trevelyan's free hand smacked down hard. "You don't want Lloyd to think you're a slack fuck."
Harper moaned, straining unsuccessfully to escape the abuse.
"Rock your way in, Lloyd." Alec's lips whispered the command right against the other's ear. His fingers guided the tip of Hillard's cock to the closed bud of Harper's ass. "Slow, steady pressure. Chance can't hold out against you for very long. You're too powerful." Alec inhaled, savouring the scents rising off both the other men's bodies.
Lloyd Hillard:
A shiver tickled up Lloyd's spine. He was all too aware that it was on the sick side to get a jolt out of the situation, but he just couldn't help himself. Janus was handling Lloyd like a pro. His fingers were exerting just the right amount of pressure to keep Lloyd on edge. Where his erection touched against Harper's flesh Lloyd felt the most amazing sensations.
"Don't do this!" Chance groaned, his hands bunching in the sheets. "Please."
"See how Chance shivers in anticipation." Janus' free hand traced over the prone man's body. "He wants it, Lloyd, but still his sweet mouth lies. It's impossible to take his protests seriously." His precise pronunciations overwhelmed Chance's quiet whimpers. "They all lie. Women, girls, Nancy boys like Chance here."
It was too easy to believe Janus' insistent words, which made it even easier for Lloyd to push forward, ignoring Harper's pained whine. Astonishing heat and pressure were his reward. Lloyd's breath hissed out. His eyes squeezed closed. Fingers threaded through Lloyd's sweaty hair.
Janus' whisper was closer. "Feels wonderful, doesn't it? C'mon Lloyd. Give him all of it."
A tongue flicked Hillard's earlobe, and Janus' hand ran down. It coasted over the nape of his neck, down his damp spine and curved over Lloyd's ass.
This was more than some risqu flirtation with immorality. This was honest evil, and it felt so intoxicating that it made Lloyd's head swim.
"No one is ever going to deny you anything ever again. You work for me now, Lloyd. Anything you want, just ask and I'll get it for you. As long as you do what I tell you" Janus qualified. His hand skimmed over Lloyd's sweaty skin. " I won't hold back any reward you desire."
Forget just working for Janus. Lloyd was ready to sign over his immortal soul to the blond at this point.
Chance Harper:
His spine must have been severed somewhere along the line, Chance decided, maybe his brain stem too. There was no other way to explain the contradictions raging through him.
A complete stranger, a male stranger, was screwing him. Definite pain signals had come from his ass not more than a few seconds, or maybe an hour ago. So why the hell was he lifting off these damned pillows the Englishman had shoved under his hips? Why were his legs spreading wider? Who was making those moaning sounds that seemed to be coming from his own damned throat?
Tickles of lightening were sizzling through his body. Chance was hard too, harder than he could recall being in ages. He was leaking drips of pre-come onto his stomach and these expensive pillowcases. He was floating. The only thing tying him to this world was the thick slide of hard flesh in and out of his body. Something deep inside of him was triggered, making Chance shudder and cry out.
They were talking. One of them laughed at Chance's reaction to the stimulation. The stroke was duplicated, becoming almost constant with each thrust. His arms were melting. Chance fell even further forward, resting on his shoulders and one side of his face. The position had to obscene. He panted, his breathing interrupted by moans that his chest couldn't contain.
"What a pretty puppy you are, Chance. You snap and snarl. You growl out your complaints, but now your ass is in the air, and Lloyd is fucking you like the bitch in heat that you are."
Cool fingers insinuated themselves under Chance, worming between the pillows and his body.
A moan, deeper than all the rest tore out of Chance, as his aching cock was captured.
"Isn't this a day for revelations, Chance?" That arrogant, insistent snake's hiss of a voice wouldn't stop. "You're going to come groaning and panting like an animal with Lloyd's cock up your virgin ass. What does that make you, Chance? What does that make this encounter?"
"Stop it! Stop it!" Stop touching me. Stop talking. Stop making me enjoy this. It was all tangled in there and impossible to articulate. "NO!"
"Be quiet, bitch."
A smack landed on one ass cheek at the same time the hand around his erection demanded even more of Chance.
Alec Trevelyan/Janus:
Alec was pleased. Both his pawn and the prop were behaving perfectly. He milked at the prone man while raising his voice to make sure that Hillard was drawn into the weave.
"Chance is going to come now, Lloyd. He can't help himself. You're too fucking good for him to resist," Alec warned. "Have you ever been in someone's ass when they get off? It makes for the most exquisite sensation, like their body is caving in on you."
"Oh fuck!"
Lloyd wasn't exactly the most articulate man when on the verge of orgasm, but then Alec didn't pick him out for his conversational skills. He wanted a pilot, a damned good one, with ambiguous morals. That the young man was a fine looking piece of ass made the find all the sweeter.
Alec felt the twitch in his hand at the same time that Harper let out a broken mewing noise. His fingers coaxed Chance's orgasm along but Trevelyan's eyes were locked on the face of the man above. The look of startled enjoyment, as Lloyd felt the tremors of Chance's orgasm from within needed to be savoured.
Hillard's shoulders shoved back, and longish, dark hair was tossed out of tightly closed eyes, as Lloyd's throat arched into a curve. A stream of obscenities whispered out.
Christ but the boy was beautifully abandoned as he came and grew even more so when he sagged forward over his victim. Lloyd seemed immune to the sobs wracking Chance. He showed no sign of shame but rather scattered a few kisses over the sweaty skin below him.
"Thank you, Chance. That was great." Lloyd murmured.
This was a student Trevelyan wanted to take on. This younger, lovelier version of his traitorous companion James would make a perfect apprentice.
"Leave the toy be, Lloyd," Alec advised. "Poor Chance has just made an astonishing discovery about himself and he needs time to adjust to being a desperate cock-slut." Trevelyan could resist laying hands on his new acquisition. He carefully eased the two men apart, encouraging Lloyd to lie back on the other side of the massive bed. "Now it's your turn."
Lloyd Hillard:
Lost in a lazy sense of satisfaction Lloyd didn't pay much mind to Janus' words. Those skilled hands felt just right on sensitized skin. The kiss Janus pressed on him was kind of strange but 'what the hell', he'd just screwed another man. A kiss was nothing to freak out over. Damn but the blond could kiss too. Janus was ravaging his passive mouth.
Lloyd groaned, his body lax, as Janus' attentions moved lower. Strangely enough, Lloyd found that he missed the stream of obscene, cultured sounding patter that the foreigner had been favouring him with.
Janus cupped Lloyd's balls and let out a pleased noise. Wet moisture teased over tingling skin. His touches then shifted further back and he raised one of Lloyd's long legs off the mattress.
"What are you doing?" His body was well satisfied, and Lloyd didn't really want to be mauled right now.
"Establishing the chain of command." Janus' voice never seemed to lose its arrogance, even though it came from between Lloyd's legs. "You many have fucked over our rather hapless guest but you must never forget"
Slick pressure brushed across the tight entrance to Lloyd's body.
" you work for me."
Being relaxed, the sudden intrusion of what must have been one of Janus' fingers didn't hurt Lloyd so much as it startled him.
"I own you," Janus stated flatly.
Lloyd jolted as the invasion withdrew abruptly only to be repeated with more force. "Fuck!"
The bastard had the nerve to brush his mouth up the underside of Lloyd's leg too.
"You're about to make the most monumental decision of your life, my boy." Janus sounded so blasted calm. "You can either risk your life by fighting me off" The first option was presented. " or you can take this opportunity to prove that you're going to be a loyal and obedient employee." Janus kissed the back of his knee. "I'm hoping you'll choose the second because I'd much rather shower you with money than break your lovely long leg and then kill you."
Warning pressure against Lloyd's leg emphasised the second choice.
More thoughts than he could even begin to process flashed through Lloyd's brain. How the fuck did things get so crazy so fast? It couldn't hurt too much. Harper hadn't bled. Fuck, the man had even come. So, it was only his dignity, and that had been worth piss in a glass from the day he'd left God-damned Lynx River.
Janus' fingers picked that moment to twist inside him. The movement sent an unexpected shock of pleasure through Lloyd. His head slammed back against the mattress.
"Fuck! What the fuck?" The rush of sensation ripped at him again. He could do this. Hell, Lloyd almost wanted to do it right now. He had to swallow twice to make his voice work. "Anything you want Boss."
Christ, even Janus' laugh reeked of overconfidence.
"Excellent choice, my dear boy," Janus praised, his body shifting. "First I'll open your eyes, and then I shall show you the world."
The fingers withdrew; leaving emptiness that made Lloyd groan, but the replacement made him scream.
Chance Harper:
The high cry of pain right beside him made Chance want to curl in on himself, but he turned his aching head to look. Lloyd, his rapist it hurt to even think that word Lloyd was flat on his back with one leg bent out and the other one up in the air. The blond was kneeling between those twisted limbs, still dressed except for the fact that his pants were open and pushed slightly down.
There was no mistaking the movement, not the thrust of the Englishman's hips or the way Lloyd shuddered in reaction. That dark head tossed restlessly. His arms were bent back, grabbing at the headboard. Sweat covered Lloyd, and his clearly defined muscles were bunched with strain.
Chance grimaced, closing his eyes against the glaring light and the obscene view. He couldn't close his ears however. That damned accent continued to whisper out a twisted mixture of endearments and filth. Nor was Chance able to block out the rhythmic way the bed shook underneath him.
He tried to roll away, maybe make himself fall off the damned bed or at least get out of this exposed position, but his limbs were still denying him control. Small mercy that if he vomited right now it wouldn't be all over himself.
The string of words finally trailed off with a strangled gasp and the movement slowed.
As if on cue, the outer door opened. "Excuse me, Sir, but we may have a small problem." A new voice intruded from what sounded like the end of a tunnel. "The CIA, Sir."
"Bloody hell." A sudden flurry of activity erupted, jostling the bed and shoving at the sheets. "Move, Lloyd. This isn't the sort of company that we want to entertain." Janus' commands snapped out. "Gregor! Tend to my laptop. Lloyd, get dressed. Where's my blasted phone? How long have we got?"
"What about Harper, Janus?"
That voice was closer. It had to be Lloyd, Chance decided. He needed to move. He didn't want to die in this position.
"Leave him. He's not important."
The bed rocked again, and it was enough aid to allow Chance to roll off the supporting pillows and onto his side. He could see Lloyd scrambling into clothing, and the other two men tossing things into cases.
Lloyd actually met Chance's unsteady gaze briefly before flushing and turning his face away.
"That's all we've time for. Leave the rest." Janus shoved a briefcase at Lloyd, who was standing at the foot of the bed. "Forget whatever you had in your flat. I'll buy you everything you need when we get to St Petersburg, pet." He pressed a kiss on the younger man. "Just hold onto this and stay close to me."
They were gone a moment later without another look in Chance's direction.
He tried to get up, to cajole his limp limbs into movement. Chance couldn't abide the thought of the police finding him in this state. Unfortunately, shock and the drugs pulled him under once more.
The next time Chance opened his eyes the room was pitch dark. No sunlight brightened the curtains. Strange. He'd expected that the authorities would have discovered him by now. On the other hand, he finally seemed to have regained control over his own body once more.
Chance dragged himself upright. His head spun, but he didn't tip over. Clothes. He had to have some clothing, but his body insisted on something else first.
Chance staggered towards what he hoped was the bathroom. Dropping onto the toilet, he grabbed after the wastebasket, in case his heaving stomach lost control.
Despite his captors' panic it didn't appear as if the CIA was about to crash in the door. The idea of dressing without at least attempting to wash away the signs of what Lloyd had done to him was repulsive.
~~~~~~~oo(O)oo~~~~~~~
When he emerged, reddened and on the edge of raw, from the shower Chance sifted through the clothing scattered about the other room. He found his own pants and shoes, but the rest of the things he had to wear were unfamiliar.
Crawling on the floor in search of his wallet, a folder of papers caught his eye. The sheath had fallen under a chest of drawers. Inside were sheets outlining a germ warfare project. It included distribution plans, a breakdown of the virus and cure, as well as a couple of computer discs.
"Son of a bitch." Chance held them at arm's length in shocked disgust. No wonder the threat of the CIA had sent them running.
Most disturbing of all were the number of times that the name 'Vandenberg' seemed to appear in the papers. That was the last name of Chance's half-brother.
"Oh jeez" Gathering the folder to his chest, Chance climbed painfully to his feet.
He was going to go home, take another shower and then he'd decide what to do about this horror that fate had dropped into his lap. Hell, maybe with a bit of luck he'd manage to bury the memories of this whole day under the avalanche of trouble that these documents were going to cause.
That's it. Milk and cookies time
~~~~~~~oo(O)oo~~~~~~~
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