I Never Told You What I Do For A Living

8: Gerard Way: Self Proclaimed Queen Of Sass

(Just a really quick note before you start the chapter... There's a slight smut warning in this chapter, it's nothing too serious as it was the first time I've written something like that and I felt and bit awkward but if any of you don't like reading any kind of smut what-so-ever then you might want to stop reading when you get to the '*****'. I'll put some more when it ends so you don't miss any of the story)

Bang. Crash. Smash.

These were the noises that greeted Mikey as he slowly awakened from the forced sleep that Pete put him in. At first, Mikey was very confused, looking around the room he was in with wide eyes, like a scared child. However, as he remembered what had happened to him, he became more aware and observed his surroundings better.

All he could see was shattered glass. He was surrounded by hundreds of shards of glass, both big and small. That, of course, and more fucking blood, only this time, Mikey was pretty sure it wasn't his blood.

He mentally checked his wounds, not feeling anymore pain, and realised there were no fresh wounds on his body. The older wound had stopped bleeding too and Mikey was pretty sure someone had been kind enough to stitch it up for him.

He could hear even more smashing and crashing a distance away from him, possibly in another room and Mikey was glad he was away from it. Before he got too happy, however, the noise was starting to get closer and closer until a certain someone stumbled into the room with a bottle of whisky in his hand.

"Ah, you're awake!" Pete slurred, "good, now I can entertain myself."

"Are you drunk?" Mikey asked stupidly, he was quite obviously drunk but what else was he supposed to say?

"Oooh, did I kidnap the clever brother? That's good." Came the overly-sarcastic reply.

"Ok then," Mikey began, getting ever so slightly annoyed with the man. I mean, he did kidnap Mikey so the least he could do was stay sober, right? "Why are you drunk?"

"I'm always drunk sweetie, it's nothing too personal about it."

"So then what are you running from?" Mikey asked, raising a perfectly trained eyebrow. Pete was slightly shocked with the man's question. He had hit the mark straight away and he wasn't even sugar-coating it. Most people just assumed he drank because they thought he was a heartless bastard who didn't care and was going nowhere. People rarely assumed that there was something more.

"What makes you think I'm running?" Pete asked, playing the defensive card.

"Because I've spent my entire life around people who try desperately to escape and run from their problems using drugs. My parents were alcoholics who would drink to forget about their money problems and affairs. My brother now drinks and takes drugs to run from the memories of my parents. I know what running looks like so don't even try to lie to me."

"Honey, I don't think you're in any position to be interrogating me. Maybe you should try worrying about your own problems before you try to fix mine."

"If you were going to kill me then you would have done so already and, since you took the time to stitch my wounds for me, I doubt you're going to kill me any time soon." Mikey said, enjoying being the smart-ass for once, usually that job was left to none other than Gerard Way: Self Proclaimed Queen Of Sass.

"Well, no that's not part of the plan but, trust me, when the time is right I will kill you. Of course that doesn't mean I can't have a little fun with you beforehand." Pete argued, moving towards Mikey slowly with a malicious grin on his face.

"W-what are you going to do?" Mikey asked, losing his nerve. This man reminded him of his father when he was like this.

"Well first, I'm going to shut that pretty mouth of yours," he said, reaching for some duct tape, before putting some over Mikey's mouth. Mikey's breath sped up when he could no longer cry for help and, soon enough, his eyes were wide and staring again and sweat was forming on his forehead.

"Aww, baby don't be scared," Pete soothed him, stroking his hair softly. Mikey knew it was just a pretence and his assumptions were proven correct when Pete picked up a knife.

"This won't hurt too much, I promise." He continued to sooth Mikey, as he slowly cut the man's shirt off, exposing his chest and toned body. Mikey was super pissed off at that because that was his favourite band shirt. That cost a lot of money for fucks sake!

His anger soon dissipated though, when Pete brought the sharp knife down to his chest and rested the tip over his heart. He trailed the blade softly over his skin, moving it further and further down until it was just below his navel.

The knife stayed there for a moment before Pete pulled away and looked thoughtfully at Mikey. "You know, this would be more fun for the both of us if you couldn't see, don't you agree?" He chuckled, knowing full well that Mikey couldn't disagree with him when he was gagged.

After a moment of rummaging around, Pete came back to Mikey with a blindfold in his hand and a mischievous grin on his face. "That's much better," he said once he had tied to cloth around Mikey's eyes, plunging the poor man into darkness and leaving him even more vulnerable.

"Now, where were we?" He mused to himself, before pressing the knife back to Mikey's skin and trailing it around his body again. When the blade reached Mikey's chest again, more pressure was applied and he felt a small prick of pain before warm liquid ran down him. He whimpered softly and squirmed in his seat, trying desperately to get himself out of the situation he was in.

"Now, now, none of that sweetheart." Pete chided him before undoing Mikey's jeans and pulling them down slightly, exposing his crotch. Soon the pressure of fingers was replaced by the cold feel of the knife as it grazed his dick.

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Oh no! Fucking no way... there's no way this dude is gonna chop my fucking genitals off 'cause that is so not fucking cool Mikey thought to himself, gasping and trying his best to yell out when he had some duct tape clamped over his mouth.

Pete chuckled when he felt and heard Mikey struggling. The man was quite obviously panicking and it made Pete feel great and powerful and in control, which is what he always had to be. Being in control made him feel on top of the world and invincible and there was no way that Pete was a very going to trade that feeling for anything.

"Don't worry baby, I'm not that cruel," he announced as he took away the knife and threw it down. He replaced the blade for his hand again and started groping Mikey, who was now groaning with unwanted pleasure rather then shrieking with rational fear. Soon enough, he started to get harder and was squirming again in the chair, trying desperately to feel more friction.

A small part in the back of Mikey's mind was screaming at him and telling him to stop feeling good about what was happening. This man had kidnapped him, tied him up, and threatened to chop his dick off but now Mikey wanted to be jacked off by him. What the hell is wrong with you? His mind yelled.

But a few moments later, despite his mind's rational objections, he was getting closer and closer to reaching his limit even though nothing had really happened apart from Pete deciding to spontaneously palm him through his boxers. He started moaning and writhing in the seat he was bound to, silently begging for more friction. Pete could tell he was getting closer as him breathing got faster and heavier and he began to pull at the restraints tying him to the chair more, so he stopped.

Mikey moaned in annoyance, hating the burning feeling in his stomach and the throbbing of his dick. Again, this was not cool and now Mikey was left really hard and really wanting the feeling of Pete's hand on his crotch again.

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"Well, I think I've found the perfect method of torture for now," Pete announced, as Mikey heard him stepping back, "please excuse me whilst I go 'run from my problems' though. Maybe we can continue this tomorrow... or the day after." He finished sarcastically, picking up his half-full bottle of whisky.

He was definitely pleased with himself and was confident that he taught the other man a lesson. No one was allowed to try and read him, try and tell him what he was feeling, or try to fix him. There was a reason he cut off his exes hand for fucks sake.

Chuckling to himself at the memory, he left the room, leaving Mikey tied to a chair, blindfolded and gagged and in a serious need to jack the fuck off...