Archive of Our Own

The last thing he saw was Kat's face when he held onto her. He pleaded for her help as he heard himself scared unlike before, hoping he had listened to her. Regretting ever taking the situation as a joke and then like a challenge. He should have never opened their door, he should have never allowed Kat's boss to drag them into this fucking mess.

He hit his head on the floor of the pit. The pain on his temple came first and then the wetness and the strong scent of iron. The stench of the dirty clothes flooded his senses again. Dizzy and terrified, he reached for the rope around his waist, attempting to untie himself one last time before he was dragged again with so much strength he thought his bottom half was about to be ripped off. He screamed Kat's name and she called back for him. The skin on his back felt on fire with the friction of the dirty floor. Bobby held onto anything that his hands could land on, only to fist moldy fabric that left a nauseous scent on his palms. 

He was going to die because of some fucking loser, not even over something he did.

Bobby closed his eyes to spare himself the suffering of seeing what was going to kill him when he was sucked inside the door. It closed right behind him, hitting him on the top of his head and locking Kat's voice away.

Then there was a whistling noise and the rope became loose again. His breathing was so loud that it was all he could focus on, rushed and shallow, barely filling his lungs with enough air not to vomit with fear. His survival instinct told him to stay still. There wasn't any reason behind it, no logical thinking. Not even the faint memory of that one time he helped a friend, of a friend, of a friend whose father, some crazy hippie naturalist, wanted to edit all the content he filmed during his trip to Maryland.

White-tailed deers froze when they sensed a predator nearby to avoid detection. He knew that but he wasn't thinking. All he did was lay there, on his back, with his cropped shirt pushed up over his ribs and his limbs stretched. He felt the sweat on his temples drip into his hair; blood joined on the left one. The sunglasses that adorned the top of his head were still there, unaware of the commotion and the impending danger he was still in.

It was hard to tell how many minutes passed by or if it was barely more than twenty seconds, Bobby could only count time with his breathing and when it became a little calmer and he wasn't dead, he understood there might be a chance for survival.

The white-tailed deer freezes, but it also flees.

Bobby sat up and looked around. This room was much darker, with black and dark grey all over. He turned to find the door that brought him here only to find a smooth and cold surface. He patted it with his hands and pushed onto it frantically, slapping the white material that wouldn't budge. This time didn't let him in, nor out. It was a real wall.

He leaned back to take a proper look.

Not a wall, but a projection screen. This fucked up place was now a movie theater. Bobby curled his fingers, scratching the screen as he turned around to lean his weight on his shaky knees.

“Bobby!”

“Kat?!” Bobby called. His heart began to speed up even more if possible. “Kat, I'm here! I can't open the door from this side!”

Because there was no fucking door.

“Bobby...!”

“Please, Kat! Open the door! Please, open the door!” he curled his hands into fist, slamming them on the white vinyl. “Don't stop talking to me, please! I can barely hear you!”

“Bo...!”

Was this some sort of elevator? He heard her voice like it was much higher than he was, far. Further every time he heard her voice.

“Fuck me, dude. Fuck! Me!” he cursed under his breath before he turned around.

He was on his own, there was no door on this side but surely there had to be something. Anything. He had seen a few rooms earlier, there were... There were many ways to continue, right? That was how it fucked with your mind. The seats were scattered all over. Literally all over. Some properly placed, others half sinking on the solid ground, climbing up the walls and even a couple on the ceiling. He sniffed and wiped his throbbing temple, cleaning the blood on his shirt. There were a few garments that he brought into the auditorium, but he kicked them out of his way when he got on his feet. His legs barely supported his weight.

Reality hit him hard again when the rope began to tense up a second time. Why didn't he untie it during those minutes when he decided that playing dead was the best thing he could do? Bobby fell right on his ass but this time he held onto the rope with both of his hands. It didn't help but, but the seats between him and whatever that was pulling him were a saving grace. Bobby put his feet between two seats that were fusing one against each other. He snarled and clenched his jaw until it hurt. He was putting all of his strength and weight on top of it and the pain on his lower back was unbearable. It would bruise. If he survived, it would bruise.

By now, he played a vicious tug of war with something he doubted that could be labeled as human. His brain didn't let him dwell on it to avoid going mad. Survival first, insanity second. His eyes still widened when he saw a pair of hands with long, bonny fingers that held onto the rope with an eerie elegance.

Before Bobby could yell, there was a strange reflection on something metallic. Then came a thud, like iron clashing on something hard that became soft and wet with the impact. Almost like someone opened a watermelon with a hammer.

Bobby fell on his back and groaned with the impact. The rope was loose again. He pushed his upper body up, helping himself with his forearms. Some blood got in his eye and it began to itch, making him cry and close it. With vision from only one eye and between the conjoined seats, he saw a large figure approaching. Its footsteps were heavy and rocked from side to side with a clumsiness that came with an overgrown body. Curiously, it didn't trip and his pace was so calm, not rushed at all, that Bobby could barely react for a moment. The sense of fear suspended with uncertainty.

It was something like a moving armor, like that scene of Bedknobs and Broomsticks. Bobby looked around, almost expecting to see a fucked up version of Angela Lansbury casting a spell. He had seen weirder things in that forsaken place.

He didn't wait any longer. His own rationality forced him to put all of his senses into work and escape from that moving armor. The clacking noises after him put him on edge, still as slow but as steady. Bobby decided to go left, running and jumping over a few seats. His hands worked on the tight rope around his waist.

“Motherfucker!”

Why did Clark have to tie the knot like that?! Oh, he hoped that whatever that got him, fucked him up forever. In ways that many would loathe to even think about. He deserved no less than a long, painful death.

In the middle of that frenzy and while being chased by a metallic giant, Bobby spotted a doorknob on the ground. He literally threw himself at it, forgetting about the rope for a second. He landed on his knees in front of it, holding the rounded and golden doorknob with both of his hands, twisting it around with slippery hands.

It wasn't opening.

“Fuuuuck!”

This new tug on the rope was much stronger and brutish. Bobby missed breaking his teeth on the doorknob by an inch when he fell forward. He scratched the carpet with his nails, giving crawling one last try before he was finally trapped.

He was dragged and turned around and for some stupid reason, Bobby thought that he had a chance at defending himself. There was this one time he almost won a bar fight.

A rain of punches landed on the creature hoovering over him. The blows took his mind off the unnerving hum with the pain throb on his knuckles. The hauberk protected his attacker from any harm, covered by a once dirty yellow rag. It draped over its chest, mended and ripped and mended and ripped and mended and ripped until it was a disgusting thing that fell without shape or grace. It was tied around the body with an old rope, too thin in some parts to withstand a sudden move. In others, braided and thick as a thumb.

Bobby only yelped when the figure above him bent its knees to collapse on the ground. The helmet didn't allow any kind of humanity. It was rusted and very long, with a slit at the very top, too high for anyone's eyes to see. The iron around the scattered holes was fogging; whatever it was that lived inside that armor, perhaps a bizarre portrayal of a knight, was panting.

It was when he saw the blood on the gauntlets that Bobby stopped fighting him. His bottom lip trembled as much as his hands did. When those metallic fingers released him from his rope, Bobby only swallowed and looked up. His heart was beating hard and he could feel it right on his throat and his temples.

He stared at the helmet and by the lack of movement, he could tell that The Knight was staring back at him. As soon as the bloody gauntlet was raised, Bobby squeezed his eyes shut, expecting a vicious blow on the head.

Instead, the hard and cold fingers prodded on his cut, mixing his blood with the one who had been its previous victim. Bobby tried not to think too much about, he wouldn't live enough for his cut to be infected.

The curious touching continued and went up to his hair. It pulled onto it, not too viciously, but perhaps almost expecting it would come loose at the tug. What did were his sunglasses that The Knight began to inspect with an otherworldly wonder. It tapped on the lenses and pulled onto the temples. One of them snapped and Bobby flinched.

The Knight continued pressing and forcing them to endure a very rough inspection. Bobby simply looked at it, unable to slow down his breathing. His stomach expanded and sank and it was made clear to him then that The Knight had released him. He was free. The rope was no longer tied around his waist. Bobby doubted for a second before he turned around and tried to escape.

The Knight was faster than him and tossed the sunglasses aside. Instead of the rope, two strong arms wrapped around his waist and forced him down on his stomach.

“Oh, fuck! Oh, God! Please, d-don't!” he stammered. “Kat! Kat!”

The Knight grumbled and huffed, keeping him trapped between a few seats. It weighed a fucking ton on his back and Bobby couldn't move. The filthy fabric was wet and moldy and he could feel it over his skin, where his cropped shirt didn't cover him.

“It... It doesn't have to be that way, you know?” He had tried everything: playing dead, escaping, fighting and now it was time for negotiation. When would be his time to give up? Fuck, Bobby didn't even know if that damn thing could understand him. “I'm sure you just got lost here too, huh? Right, dude? You just... Fuck. Was this shit place even a thing back in your time? Hard to... To understand for me... How crazy it must have been f-for you... huh?!” The tears were welling up in his eyes. He didn't even know what the fuck he was saying.

The Knight grabbed his face and turned it. Bobby had to shift to make sure it wouldn't break his neck. The iron pressed against his cheeks and his lips puckered up. His tears landed on the itchy, black carpet beneath him. The thumb pressed against the seam of his mouth. Bobby moved his head away when it knocked against his teeth.

It tasted awful.

But the rejection wasn't evident enough for The Knight. It used both of its hands; one to hold Bobby's head in place and the other to pry his mouth open. He had little to say on the matter, only hoping that the creature wouldn't start roleplaying as a dentist and pulling his teeth out one by one.

Instead, it caressed his tongue with fascination and even tapped on it, like some sort of switch that could make Bobby make noises. Which he did, but it was not like he was controlling them.

Bobby gagged when the fingers went further than he could take them. The Knight pulled them out and the helmet moved closer when Bobby spat the dirty blood on the floor. It slipped down from his cheek, slippery and thick and he wanted to throw up.

What happened to Kat? Why couldn't he hear her anymore? Bobby furrowed his eyebrows and cried, sobbed. Why did any of this happen? Why did it have to be them? Would he ever see her again?

The Kn|ght bumped its helmet against Bobby's cheek and patted the top of his head. It grunted, resembling a stubborn dog huffing. Was that... Was it trying to comfort him?

“Let me go...” Bobby attempted one last time with a thin voice. “I just wanna go home, man. I'm sorry. I should have never come here...” His voice broke and more tears streamed down his face. “We only wanted to make some money... We w-w... We wanted a new TV for the apartment...”

All of this for a new fucking TV? One that wouldn't start glitching every time they put on Twin Peaks. It added to the experience, sure, but it also made it a bit more complicated to keep with the plot.

He was now living it in the flesh, wasn't he?

The Kn|ght turned him around and Bobby reacted like a doll. He flopped on his back, not very far from where he spat the nasty blood. The Kn|ght set its heavy gauntlets on his shoulders. He squeezed the muscle and caressed down his arms. An eerie feeling told him that wasn't good. It wasn't fucking good.

“Kat...” he sobbed, pressing against The Kn|ght thick waist.

“A-... aaaah...” The Kn|ght said.

“I don't know what you want,” It wasn't going to understand him. It was probably not even capable of speech and was simply trying to copy the sounds he made. “But I can't give it to you. I'm not... I'm not one of those guys, you know?” He laughed, choking on his tears and spit.

What kind of guy would be down to be touched and molested by something that wasn't even a living being? It felt like a nasty, sick joke. Like someone put one of his experiences through the blender, made a nasty paste with it and tried to shape it back as an old memory.

It happened when Bobby and Kat were getting to know each other, before dating. He could tell he liked her almost from the very beginning, but he was drunk that one night and there was this... Fucking rugby player that was big and friendly and Bobby didn't know what happened. He honest to God didn't know what happened, but before he knew it, they were inside of a bathroom stall and the guy was all over him. They kissed, rutted against each other and when they both came, he simply pinched his chin and left. Bobby spent fifteen minutes in that bathroom trying to figure out if he was... gay?

He was weird the following days and Kat asked him if he didn't like her anymore and had changed his mind. Against better judgment, Bobby told her what happened and while she looked a bit hurt about the fact he hooked up with someone else –did that make him look like a cheater? Did she worry whenever he went out with his friends?–, she told him that she understood. That sometimes curiosity got the best of you.

The memory of San Jose's Knights on the guy's jersey made him want to vomit. Where did the movie theater came into play he didn't fucking know, but perhaps Karma existed. If it did, he sure hoped it was good and gentle to Kat. She deserved no less.

The Kn|ght bumped him on the face with the helmet again. Bobby pushed and it pulled onto his t-shirt. The seam snapped and with another sharp pull, it ripped open from top to bottom. His heartbeat sped up again and his breathing got out of control. The Kn|ght didn't let that slow him down as it mapped Bobby's chest with the filthy gauntlets. It scratched his skin and Bobby hissed, moving away from him.

A questioning sound came from inside the helmet.

“You are scratching me, dude,” Bobby sobbed. It was going to happen to him, wasn't it? It was going to happen.

Another sound.

Strong and clumsy but stubborn and demanding. Bobby could use some of that in his favor. If he was smart and he didn't fight, then maybe...? He hyperventilated and The Kn|ght petted his sides with its monstrous gauntlets.

“Take them off, fuck!” Bobby pushed them away from him.

Again, The Kn|ght didn't understand him. Bobby decided to do it for his own sake. If he was going to keep touching and bothering him, then he would rather not have his skin scratched off his body. It let him do it when he saw how Bobby opened the gauntlets with a dexterity it probably didn't possess.

What he discovered were hands that, at the same time... Didn't look like hands. If someone were to describe them, they would probably mention five fingers, knuckles, a palm and a wrist. This was... similar, but not accurate. Those things were there except for the fact that there were seven fingers on its right hand –two of them fused together– and five... No. Bobby turned the left hand up and found something somewhat similar to a thumb coming out from beneath the heel of his hand. Six fingers.

Thirteen fingers instead of ten, not all of them functional. Bobby gaped, blinking and leaving the fear aside for a second. The hands were heavy. So heavy that they weighed Bobby's own down, forcing him to rest on his lap. They turned around and stayed on his waist. The thumbs –the left one bigger than the right but the right more crooked than the left– pressed onto his flesh and forced him down. Bobby couldn't look away from his hands until his head made it back on the carpet. Then he looked up at the helmet and he went straight for it. What the fuck was even that?

The Kn|gh† snarled as he moved out of Bobby's reach. Those hands, odd and deformed, made him slightly more human but at the same time, far from it.

“What are you...?” Bobby whispered.

The Kn|gh† shook his helmet and groaned at Bobby. He had to understand the concept of no if he was using it. Although, he clearly didn't care that Bobby was using it. Did he? Did he say it?

“No.” Bobby mumbled, waiting to see if it would change anything.

But it didn't and the feeling of his rough skin and crooked fingers gave him goosebumps. Bobby's breathing got stuck on his throat as he arched his back, making his necklace fall on his throat. The Kn|gh† continued to map his stomach and chest with his particular hands, making Bobby squirm between ticklish and terrified.

“No, no, no. Oh, please. No, no!” he freaked out when the hands decided to move back down, tugging on his belt. His buckle could barely do anything at the sharp pull of those monstrous hands. “Oh, fuck!” Bobby used his forearms to drag himself away from The Kn|gh† but that only helped the other to pull his trousers down his legs.

The Kn|gh† threw them away and Bobby hated the idea of running around in the place only in his boxers. He could not wear those stinky clothes. He had to be... If he survived... Will he survive? The Kn|gh† didn't bother himself with such tribulations and held his left ankle in his massive hand. He looked at his shoe and poked it a few times with the webbed fingers. He bonked the side of his shoe with the helmet, almost as if something inside of that metallic head recognized the sneaker he was wearing.

They were appreciated but not respected, as The Kn|gh† ripped his sneaker off his foot with his sock. Then the other. Not only almost naked but also barefoot. Part of him almost wished he would be killed soon. That the first thing that got him would have been faster.

The Kn|gh† appreciated Bobby's toes, playing with them by pulling and flicking them with his fingers. Then he moved onto his strong calves. Bobby shivered and tried to shift when the helmet touched the thin skin of the inner part of his knee. Fearing he would try to crawl away again, The Kn|gh† grabbed one of his wrist so he would stay in place.

The holes and the slit on the helmet weren't blunt, the edges of the iron were sharp and scratched Bobby. He complained as he pushed onto the head. The Kn|gh† let out a pitiful noise before he remembered himself and huffed again.

When he saw the red marks on his flesh, he bonked him.

“D-Don't hurt me more than you have to,” Negotiating had turned into begging. “Please.”

This time, Tħe Kn|gh† decided to apologize differently. He left Bobby's leg back on the floor and patted his shin with his hand, almost tenderly if it wasn't for the odd feeling of his far too many fingers. Bobby simply looked at the creature from the ground, with his ripped t-shirt around his arms and in his underwear. His stomach sank each time he exhaled, creating a small gap between his hipbones and the elastic of his boxers.

The petting returned, this time a bit more greedy. The hands spread the fingers all over his flesh, kneading from his thighs all the way to his hips. The fabric was pulled and grabbed, but when the right hand landed on his crotch, Bobby reacted like he had been kicked in the balls. He didn't feel pain but surprise, the trepidation and the certainty of what was about to happen. It was all too much and the air didn't reach his lungs.

Tħe Kn|gh† began fondling him firmly but not harshly. One hand was more than enough to cover his entire groin and maybe Bobby's masculinity was wounded at the thought that his fingers were longer –some even thicker if he thought about the fused fingers– than his own erected cock. He had never seen a very tall guy and when it reached a point where it was blatantly clear that he would never reach 5'7”, he simply decided to work on his personality and use it to his own advantage that shorter guys developed muscle mass faster. Well, not faster, but shorter limbs were easier to fill in with muscle.

Sort of.

The rugby player, taller by a head than Bobby, came to mind and how he barely looked like a guy who ever struggled at the gym.

A shameful moan and a twitch on his cock brought him back to the situation he was facing. His treacherous body had the nerve to find interest in the hand fondling him, but in his defense, he had never experienced being touched by something like that. The thumb on his wrist was poking his balls through the elastic fabric of his boxers. Bobby sobbed and parted his legs a bit as he hated himself for finding the smallest hint of pleasure in such morbid abuse. He had been caught by a fucking monster that didn't speak and only resembled a human being by sheer luck. Still, he raised his hips when Tħe Kn|gh† pulled his underwear down his legs.

A humm came out of the helmet. Bobby sobbed and furrowed his eyebrows. The blood on his temple was starting to dry and cake on his hairline. He focused on that feeling better than on his dick resting on his lower stomach, semihard and wanting to be fondled some more. He shivered when Tħe Kn|gh† touched it properly this time, this time using the right hand. It wasn't long enough to accommodate all those thick seven fingers of his and Bobby suffocated with shame at the first tug. It burnt a bit and Bobby squirmed. Tħe Kn|gh† did it again and Bobby complained a second time, pushing onto his arms.

The tilt of the helmet was almost naive.

“Hurts,” Bobby muttered. Tħe Kn|gh† failed to understand him and attempted a third try. Bobby grabbed his thick wrists and repeated. “Hurts!”

Tħe Kn|gh† released him but nothing came out of the holes or the eye slit. He gestured at his dick with both of his hands, like he honestly didn't know how to proceed. Like he miraculously expected it to work.

“Uh... ursss... -st?”

“Yeah!” Bobby anxiously answered. He would take this poor attempt at communication. “Hurts! It's dry! Spit! Mouth!” he gestured at his own lips repeatedly before frustration, anger and fear got the best of him and gave him a mean smack on the front of his helmet. “Spit, you dumb, fucking armor!”

Tħe Kn|gh† stayed still for a few seconds and Bobby thought that that was it. He managed to anger him and he would die with his dick out and his shirt ripped off his body. He hoped to God that Kat would never find him like this. That she would make it out and at least remember him as that stupid boyfriend she had in college that disappeared.

Tħe Kn|gh† petted Bobby's thighs as he put them over his own legs. The haubert pulled onto the thin hair of the back of his thighs but he cared more about the sense of defenselessness of having a massive monster kneeling between his legs. His cock didn't go down. Then a silence stretched and Tħe Kn|gh† didn't move until he did. His deformed hands moved up to his head, to the helmet. Bobby stopped breathing when he took it off.

Unlike his clothes or his sunglasses, the helmet was set aside with care unlike a predator. One of his hands rested on top of it as he kept his head down. If someone had asked to describe the color of his hair, Bobby was sure there would have been a heated discussion about it. It was blonde, red but also light brown. All three combined but not enough to simply pick one of the three. What was undeniable was that it was short. Perhaps Tħe ⋊n|gh† would have found a greater comfort in hiding himself behind dirty locks of hair.

Bobby was entranced. His mind wasn't meant to comprehend what he was witnessing, but he was trying either way and he felt insane. It wasn't that he was ugly, it was more that he was... all wrong. The nose was big and very straight, quite normal for someone with such hands. It was in his eyes where humanity seemed to get corrupted. Tħe ⋊n|gh† left eye was very big, comically so. Like someone had put a magnifying glass in front of the iris. The color was beautiful, though. A bright, shining teal that glistened even in the darkness of the movie theater. The right one, on the other hand... It was swollen shut and the worst part because he had two eyes more beneath it, all of them closed.

Tħe ⋊n|gh† pressed his reddish lips tightly shut and his chin came out, with wrinkles on it. His jaw didn't shut correctly and Bobby couldn't help but wonder how many teeth he'd have. Part of him wanted to find out, slip his fingers past his lips and count them. He hated himself for that thought and the moisture that gathered at the tip of his cock. Was this place destroying his mind or was that depravity his own?

Tħe ⋊n|gh† huffed and snarled when Bobby set a hand on his left cheek. He caressed the two rows of eyelashes there with his thumb. He couldn't feel an eyeball beneath either of them. Was that like a vestigial limb? Without being a limb? An organ he no longer had a use for, that simply... disappeared? Was this creature born at all? Did he shape himself after the illusion of humanity? Did Tħe ⋊n|gh† dream of being human was that why he became an aberration?

Bobby couldn't tell but the way he finally allowed himself to lean against his touch made him feel a pang of sympathy for him.

Definitely this place was fucking him over and melting his brain from the inside.

“What are you...?”

Tħe ⋊n|gh†'s eye found his own and Bobby licked his lips. He put a hand on his chest and forced him on his back. Bobby didn't fight him and with trembling fingers, he caressed the Tħe ⋊n|gh†'s hair. It wasn't coarse nor too soft. It was a decent texture and perhaps the thing that, if he closed his eyes and stopped thinking, could make him think there was a human between his legs. But Bobby didn’t want to stop looking, not out of horror or distrust, but out of curiosity. Tħe ⋊n|gh† grabbed him by the waist and pulled his lower body up effortlessly. His tongue came out, pink and thick, and licked all over his cock without the concept of shame or skill to stop him.

“Oh, fuuuuck,” Bobby moaned as the slippery tongue didn't leave a thing left to lick.

His toes curled and his inner thighs ached by how much they had to open to accomate the Tħe ⋊n|gh†'s massive shoulders. Bobby grabbed onto his hair and bucked his hips when his lips gave him moist and noisy kisses that sometimes landed on his shaft, other on his stomach and other on his balls. Tħe ⋊n|gh† rubbed his forehead over Bobby's belly button and sneaked his tongue around the head. The tongue was a bit bumpy on the sides and when it rubbed around the corona of his glands, he rolled his eyes so hard that he thought he was going to pass out.

Why did it feel so good? If the situation was dire, was it his survival instinct that told him to give in to pleasure?

His spine curved and tensed as the tongue circled the slit of his cock and to stop him, Tħe ⋊n|gh† grabbed onto the gloves of his ass. Bobby moaned again, lusting after the feeling of submission. He could not escape, even if he tried to, he would not manage and...

“Oh, please. Please!” Bobby babbled when Tħe ⋊n|gh† enguled his cock completely without a struggle. It fit in his mouth, feeling how the fat tongue acted as a warm and wet pillow. Bobby bucked his hips and his feet were no longer touching the ground. Tħe ⋊n|gh† slobbered all over it, drenching his lower stomach in spit. “Just... Yeah. Yes,” Bobby would be so embarrassed of himself he could see what was going on from the outside. He wasn't even horny or pent up before he got here. He had been terrified, haunted and chased like an animal and now he was pitifully trying to fuck the mouth of some messed up thing.

Tħe ⋊n|gh† bobbed his head clumsily, not leaving out enough of his cock to create proper friction. It felt closer to cock warming than a proper blowjob, but it was good. It felt so good that he wanted to scratch his eyes out. Instead, he punished the being for giving him a pleasure that promised to break his psyche if he survived long enough to think about what he did by yanking his hair.

When his dick slipped out of the Tħe ⋊n|gh†'s mouth and fell on his belly, with a wet embarrassing sound, Bobby whimpered and began petting him, almost apologetic.

More, he wanted more. Just a little more. But Tħe ⋊n|gh† didn't budge, as he wouldn't do anything he didn't want to do and would do as much as his heart –if he had one– desired to. The hands on Bobby's waist moved and set on his lower back. He pushed until he was forcing the man to lift his waist in the air and made him fold his legs.

Bobby didn't have to be very clever to figure out what he was planning to do.

“Oh, dude. No, no. No, I've never done any of that, that's... Fuck!”

Tħe ⋊n|gh† parted his buttocks and pressed his tongue against his hole. Bobby had no other option than to let it happen and furrow his eyebrows. The cut throbbed but it wasn't enough to distract him. He held onto his calves and moaned. He licked his lips, stretched his toes and panted as Tħe ⋊n|gh† pressed and pressed on the puckered hole. It was true, he had never done anything there. He only made out a bit with the rugby player, he didn't even... have the time to undo his belt before he shot his load inside of his boxers like a damn loser. Bobby added more scratches to his leg with his own nails and gasped when the tongue was starting to push past the rim.

“U-uh,” he choked in his spit.

Allowing his lower back to rest against his gorget made Bobby shiver. It was freezing. His legs opened a bit more and since Bobby wasn't fighting him anymore, Tħe ⋊n|gh† moved his left hand back to his dick. This one, since it had less fingers, was a better fit even if Bobby would have needed a couple of inches more to see the tip emerge from the purlicue. Now Tħe ⋊n|gh† did what he had attempted to do earlier and began jerking him off at a quick pace. Bobby cursed once again and let his mouth fall open, simply saying breathless oh oh ohs each time the hand pushed the skin up to the head and then back to the base.

It was the thumb. It was the fucking messed up thumb on his wrist what pushed Bobby over the edge. It dragged with the movements and bumped against his sac every time.

“Wait, wha-!” But Bobby could only arch his back and shoot his load all over his chest. Some of his cum landed on his necklace. Tħe ⋊n|gh† continued prodding him with his tongue during the aftershocks, not seeming to understand that Bobby was done and digging his face deeper. He could feel his four pairs of eyelashes against his skin. “S-Stop. Stop...” he gasped, reaching for his forehead and pressing tightly against it.

As Tħe ⋊n|gh† kept going, Bobby huffed and dragged himself the tiniest bit away from him. He whimpered at Bobby, confused and hating that something he enjoyed so much was taken away from him. When he raised his head from between Bobby's legs, he raised one shaky hand at him, showing the palm.

“Stop.”

Did he know that word? They saw a similar sign not so long ago. Bobby regretted laughing.

Tħe ⋊n|gh† finally conceded some space and Bobby rested heavily on his back. He ran his hands through his face, cleaning the dry blood and tears in the best way he could. The slippery sensation on his chest made it obvious that the Tħe ⋊n|gh† wasn't ready to leave him alone. He slurped and licked his cum, making a mess and leaving a spit trail all over his skin. Bobby shivered and breathed heavily when his mouth got close to his left nipple. Tħe ⋊n|gh† seemed to pick on the reaction and brushed his teeth against it. Bobby felt his cock give it a lazy, yet interested twitch. His refractory period was not so damn quick.

Still and against better judgment, he cupped the back of his big head and brought him closer. Tħe ⋊n|gh† sighed deeply and Bobby could almost see how the corners of his red lips went up, somewhat similar to a smile. He sucked on it, using his lips, the tip of his tongue and his teeth. Bobby had his wits with him now, breathing deeply, but noticing that yes. His teeth were also oddly shaped and they were in places where no human ever had teeth before. But it didn't matter because it felt good and it was a wicked thing to enjoy it. The little plop when he let it go was vicious but Bobby had little time to dwell on it when Tħe ⋊n|gh† began to rub his hole with the fingers of his right hand.

Bobby let out a small, scared noise. That, he hasn't done either. Not even with Kat.

Tħe ⋊n|gh† kept his big eye on him, not blinking. Bobby began to wonder if he needed to blink at all. If his eye got dry or if he was capable of crying. The intrusive thought of poking him to see if he would react crossed his mind, but the finger being forced inside of his hole made him all pliant and helpless. He held onto Tħe ⋊n|gh†'s shoulders and rested his forehead against the top of his head. The hair tickled his nose and while it was undeniably dirty and greasy, the scent that came off of it was sweet. Like melted candy on concrete. The temptation to taste it was there and Bobby was given a perfect excuse when the finger went deeper into him, forcing a moan out of his mouth. The hair didn't taste like anything. More than melted candy, it was like a wrapper that once had a candy inside; smells but doesn't taste.

The crooked and thick finger began to move in and out of him, slowly at first. It didn't glide and Bobby doubted lube existed in this fucked up world. Tħe ⋊n|gh† was mindful enough to do it while looking at his face and he felt his cheeks burn at the attention. His cock stirred again, reacting to be touched in a place he had paid no mind until now. It felt... delicate, like one sharp move could ruin him. Bobby scratched his shoulders and only hurt himself with the damn hauberk. Instead he fisted the nasty yellow rag and pulled on it, arching his back and breathing deeply. The finger didn't stop with its inspection, moving in and out and curled up at some point. Bobby felt his core melt and his spine tighten. His dick was hard again.

Perhaps he should have tried this. At home. With Kat.

Missed fucking chance.

“Aaaaah!” But his body enjoyed it nonetheless. His cheek moved against Tħe ⋊n|gh†'s. He blinked rapidly and Bobby felt the flicker of his eyelashes, almost like a nervous butterfly. He did the same trick again and wiggled his finger inside of body. He shivered and had the nerve to wrap one of his legs around the Tħe ⋊n|gh†'s thick waist, rubbing his inner thigh against the rope. His dick was trapped between their bodies, smearing wetness on the already filthy fabric.

A warm puff of air came out of his mouth when Tħe ⋊n|gh† slipped his finger out. He pressed his nose against Bobby's cheek, poking him and cooed a bit. His voice sounded a bit softer.

“Kc... Kc... -iz...” he babbled, slurring the last sound.

Bobby looked at him with an unfocused gaze before Tħe ⋊n|gh† leaned in.

It was a kiss. By definition, it was a kiss but by experience, it was something else. Their lips joined and Bobby suppressed the gasp by exhaling deeply through his nose. It was being smushed against Tħe ⋊n|gh† multiple and hollow eyes. The hand that wasn't between his legs grabbed the back of Bobby's neck, making sure he wouldn't escape. Bobby slipped both of his hands between them and forced the smallest space between so he could breathe and show him how it was done. He opened his mouth and licked the seam of Tħe ⋊n|gh†'s lips. There, he tasted sweet and when his tongue was in touch with the other's, it was even sweeter. Bobby moaned and explored Tħe ⋊n|gh†'s mouth lazily, taking his time and mapping all of his teeth with the tip of his tongue.

He hoped he would never see Kat again. Not after this lustful, delirious thing he was becoming. She deserved better.

He instantly regretted thinking that.

A sob was swallowed by Tħe ⋊n|gh†'s eager mouth as he was picking on the clues on how to kiss. He sucked on the tip of Bobby's tongue and then decided it was his turn to push and explore. Bobby almost choked around it, since it was thicker and wider than a regular human's tongue. He coughed and turned his head to the side. Tħe ⋊n|gh† continued to kiss and licked his jaw, nose and chin. The finger that pushed against his hole was now thicker. Bobby tensed up and thought: the webbed fingers.

He accepted them inside with way less struggle than before. It was so impossibly tight that Bobby squeezed his eyes shut to the point he saw white behind the black. They were as thick as a dick and the sudden fear and a wave of cold sweat washed over him: Did Tħe ⋊n|gh† have a dick? And if he did... How was it shaped? How big was it?

Bobby looked at him from the corner of his eyes as Tħe ⋊n|gh† continued to love on the side of his face, purring and making noise he couldn't even describe anymore. He ignored it as he couldn't do much more than feel of how knees trembled as Tħe ⋊n|gh† fucked him with his fingers. He was pleasantly distracted by the nice feeling of having something warm and alive beneath him. He dug his fingers in and out, twisting them inside and touching Bobby's prostate with each flick. Bobby clenched his teeth, feeling like he was about to come if that didn't stop soon. How could something so ugly and deformed feel so nice? It disgusted him and, at the same time, he wanted more of it.

“Fuck, y-yes...” he heard himself say with a lustful, unrecognizable voice.

Tħe ⋊n|gh† kissed him as he pistoned his fingers in and out of him. His knuckles hit Bobby's buttocks with each thrust and he slammed his fists on his shoulders, groaning deeply.

And without a warning, Tħe ⋊n|gh† took his fingers out of him, leaving Bobby on the ground, sobbing again and so wet on his lower stomach that he was growing slippery and gross. His legs twitched and when Tħe ⋊n|gh† was about to scoot back and simply leave him there, Bobby quickly sat up and threw his arms at him, holding him out of despair. Did he want to come or did he want to stay with someone that could help him survive?

Tħe ⋊n|gh† cooed again and patted Bobby's sides at the desperate affection, understanding the meaning of the gesture but incapable of returning it. He pried Bobby's arms from around him and hummed, nuzzling his face against Bobby's. He observed him, scared and crying.

“D-Don't leave,” Bobby asked. “Don't leave me. I don't know where I am. I-I don't,” he stuttered before Tħe ⋊n|gh† silenced him by gesturing down with his head.

He looked down as Tħe ⋊n|gh† was already lifting his nasty rag. Bobby flushed when he saw the wetness he had left there. His erection didn't flag out of shame. The hauberk fell heavily over Tħe ⋊n|gh† 's lap and Bobby swallowed when that was also lifted. Without thinking, he brought common sense to the action and tucked both the fabric and the haubert on the rope around his waist.

It was big. Of course it was going to be big considering Tħe ⋊n|gh† had to be at least seven feet tall. If his hands looked the way they did, then how could his cock be small? He could already tell and he wasn't seeing it, but the threadbare fabric of his trousers showed that he had it tucked on the left. Like he couldn't just simply let it hang freely as it would bother him while wandering around in that fucking place they found themselves in. Tħe ⋊n|gh† pushed his trousers down with clumsy hands. Bobby could feel his steady gaze on him and he wasn't looking away. His cock wanted to stand straight and touch the mess of fabric, metal and rope around his waist but it sagged under its own weight. His cock aimed at Bobby and the head was curved to the side, uneven in a way he had ever seen before. The skin at the top was wrinkled but allowed a bizarrely human pink shade to be seen. The shaft was darker in color and at some parts it was thicker and not only around the base. Bobby swallowed and noticed that the heavy balls were as intimidating and hung low.

How was that going to fit inside of him?

When Tħe ⋊n|gh† held his waist and the base of his cock, Bobby began to freak out. He leaned over him and gathered as much as spit as his mouth allowed and spat a generous glob on saliva on Tħe ⋊n|gh†'s cock. He tilted his head and frowned a bit not understanding, but instead of questioning it, he decided to do the same.

His saliva was thicker and slimmier than Bobby's.

“T-That's right, spread it...” Bobby was fighting very hard to convince himself that he only was doing this to spare himself the suffering of being torn. He didn't want it. He was still fighting to survive, this was not something any version of him would ever want. The man he was before walking inside of that furniture store was still there, somewhere. The slick noises of Tħe ⋊n|gh† coating his dick in both of their spits broke the illusion of sanity.

Bobby forbade himself from touching it, as tempting as it was. He didn't need to feel it to know this was real, he was going to have it inside of him.

He was silently grateful that once Tħe ⋊n|gh† was tired of touching himself, decided he wanted to have Bobby in another position. He flipped him over until Bobby was on his hands and knees. The position was mortifying, not one he had ever found himself in –no, like ever. Not even at the doctor–, but at least spared him from confronting the situation face to face.

Bobby was startled when Tħe ⋊n|gh† ripped off what was left of his t-shirt but then caressed and patted him between his shoulderblades to relax him again. Bobby took a deep breath, knowing that the other wouldn't be capable of giving him a warning. When he exhaled, Tħe ⋊n|gh† was already pushing in. His face instantly contracted in pain and arousal. His dick almost wanted to punch a hole through his stomach. His knees slid a bit and the carpet promised to give him a burn that the forensics would be quick to decode.

Would they ever find his body? Would his family miss him? He hadn't been the perfect son or brother, but maybe, perhaps...

It wouldn't stop. It had no end and when Bobby could almost feel him in his guts, he had to stop him with a hand on Tħe ⋊n|gh†'s hip. He pressed tightly onto it, so he would understand that was a boundary he could not cross. Not even if he wanted to, his own anatomy would not allow it.

“Until here,” Bobby huffed, sweating profusely. “Not more than this. I can't. Can't. Hurts.”

“Uh... ursst.”

“Yes,” he answered pitifully. Was he crying again? Was that his sweat? Did his cut open again and start bleeding once again? He had no clue but there was something dripping down his face.

“N-No...?”

That was the more human thing he had heard him say since this all began.

Bobby decided to teach him for his own sake. He pushed him back with the hand he had on him. Tħe ⋊n|gh† complained but didn't rebel. Then, before he could turn violent or demanding, Bobby pushed his hips back, fucking himself on his cock by choice. He licked his lips and swallowed the moan that made his heart speed up.

“Like this,” he breathed. “Shallow. Not deep.”

He did it a couple of times more, putting all of his effort in not shooting his cum all over the carpet. Being fucked for the first time while being overstimulated sounded like a nightmare. One that would fit this place just right. Tħe ⋊n|gh† seemed to understand and hummed before he grabbed Bobby's shoulders and pushed him to the ground. He swallowed and noticed that, not very far from them there was a green flickering light. EXIT.

It lead nowhere.

Bobby closed his eyes and scratched the carpet as Tħe ⋊n|gh† began fucking him. He respected the depth that he showed him, but he was much faster and forceful. Bobby attempted to think about anything else, not Kat because he could never relate this experience to her and be able to touch her again. So he thought about that rugby player and the dark bathroom, but it didn't work. The grunting and the deep breathing on top of him brought him to the moment. The thirteen fingers digging on his bare shoulders were too morbid to ignore or hide beneath a flimsy fantasy. One of his thumbs caressed his cheek and wiped away a tear. Bobby was crying because it was good. It was good and he was enjoying it. Too much and a bit more than his body could handle, but he opened his legs and didn't tell him to stop. Bobby wasn't running away and even found himself reaching for his wet cock with his own hand.

He cried openly as he held it and began rubbing it with a fast pace. His tears soaked the carpet and when Tħe ⋊n|gh† leaned over him and pressed his lips against the bloody temple, Bobby whimpered as he found himself liking the gesture. The brush of the dirty fabric gave him goosebumps with the vigor of the thrusting. Tħe ⋊n|gh† wasn't slapping his hips against Bobby's ass because there was still plenty of cock that didn't have a place in Bobby's body, but he wanted it. He wanted his body to change and accommodate and he cried for it.

With one flick of his wrist and deep arch of his back, Bobby came a second time. It was barely two spurts at best but they made his head tingle and he blamed it to his sanity finally leaving his body. Tħe ⋊n|gh† went at it for a few more thrusts until he stilled and fisted Bobby's hair. He whimpered and rolled his eyes back when he felt the load go up his shaft and inside of his body before he felt the wetness coating his walls; thick and warm. 

That left Bobby shivering and gasping on the ground, falling on his stomach when Tħe ⋊n|gh† pulled his dick out. Bobby didn't react when he reached to caress the back of his hair, brushing the locks that he fisted seconds ago. He would have held himself and cried himself to sleep if the situation would have been any less dangerous. So, when he saw the Tħe ⋊n|gh† fixing his clothes with sharp pulls and reaching out for his gauntlets and helmet, he turned around. His entire body hurt but he was especially sore between his legs. Running was no longer an option, nor was standing properly, so Bobby dragged his knees over the carpet, crawling towards Tħe ⋊n|gh†. He held onto his rope, with his eyes full of tears and even leaning into the cold touch when he cupped his chin.

“Don't leave me,” he begged again. He closed his eyes and cried, holding onto the Tħe ⋊n|gh† so tightly that the rope was hurting his fingers. “Help me. Please, keep me with y-”

But Tħe ⋊n|gh† didn't need more from him. He picked him up from the ground and cradled him against his chest before Bobby finally allowed himself to close his eyes and rest.

* * *

Bobby didn't know for how long he had been in that place or if time even existed, there. He grew hungry –and God, please him, never ask him what he had been eating–, but his hair or nails didn't grow anymore. His cut was still on his temple, open but not bleeding. It hurt, but it refused to scar. Everything was suspended and it had been a long time ever since he tried to reunite with Kat and Clark. All he did was walk by Tħe ⋊n|gh†'s side, aimlessly. When Bobby grew tired, he told him and they stopped. When he woke up, Tħe ⋊n|gh† was still there, offering his hand and encouraging to keep moving.

Why did they walk so much? He didn't know and his only companion couldn't talk.

He had given up on hope and maybe it was for the best. Every encounter he had with anything remotely familiar made his mind crack. The clothes he was wearing were a blatant reminder of it. Bobby had found the 84 jersey that Kat used at home in the middle of the street that looked oddly similar to theirs even if it wasn't. Bobby had held onto it and cried for what felt like hours. Tħe ⋊n|gh† picked him up and carried him on his shoulder, refusing to stay there a minute longer.

Everything he was wearing had belonged to Kat, or it was a copy –not perfect, but close enough– of something that she had worn. Bobby avoided thinking about her, as it was too painful to think she was dead. But it was worse to think that maybe she was still here, trying to find him while he simply... wandered, holding the hand of something that was far from human.

And if she made it out... Did she move on with her life? Did she leave him behind? All possibilities were painful and each time that Bobby tried to move on and forget about her, it only took him minutes to go back to the same question: Where was she? Was she okay? Was she dead? Was she still in there? Did she move on with her life? Did she leave him behind?

Over and over and over again.

He bumped into the Tħe ⋊n|gh† when he suddenly stopped walking.

“What is it, big guy?” Bobby sighed tiredly. Sometimes they encountered other... Beings. They had never tried to attack him. Not after Tħe ⋊n|gh† made it clear that Bobby was with him, under his protection. They walked right past him, like he couldn't see him and all Bobby had to do was try not freak out. Curiously, it got easier with time. How long did it take him to overcome the fear of death? Days? Months? Years? Decades?

Tħe ⋊n|gh† pointed ahead of him and Bobby lifted his head.

There was a row of utility poles sinking into the ground, each more deformed than the previous one. Bobby saw his own picture along Kat's under the word MISSING.

He released his hand and ran towards the pole. He touched the paper, Kat's face, as his eyes filled with tears. Missing? She was missing too? Did that mean she never made it out? Was she still here? Bobby felt his breathing quicking up dizzily. He inhaled deeply and exhaled. No. No, no! It was this forsaken place playing tricks on him again. She made it out... Didn't she? She had... She had to be out of here. She had a better job now, a new boyfriend. She was about to finish her degree and.. And...

Tħe ⋊n|gh†'s heavy gauntlet rested on his shoulder as the other one poked at his picture repeatedly.

“β0... β|...?” he stuttered. “β0... β|.”

He parted his lips, his eyes full of tears and resignation. That was the first time he ever heard him saying his name ever since they met. Things only exist after you name them, right? Something comes into existence, when you need it, when you manifest it.

He belonged to this place now more than he did to the real world. Changed from within, now he would have to let it corrupt as much as he had.

“Yeah...” βobby nodded. “That's me.”

Then, Tħe ⋊n|gh†'s offered his hand again and they resumed walking.