Lovely Bastards (BxB) (MxM)

Chapter 30 - Hurt Me More

"You little - "

"Did that make you angry?"

Zach was still smiling at him, saying nothing, but his eyes were no longer amused. 

"Well," Kit continued, watching for micro expressions on his controlled face. "How about we talk about...parents, then? You said your dad was a deadbeat asshole..." he paused before continuing.

"But where is your mom?"

He felt the grip on his upper arms tighten.

"Is she dead?" He read the flicker of Zach's eyes. "No, okay. Then,"

Rising onto his tip-toes, he breathed onto his lips, almost a kiss.

"Did she leave you?"

Zach threw him down without warning, dipping him and then catching him with a tight grip inches away from the floor, from the sharp glass shards glinting there.

"Oh, doc. You could push the buttons on a statue. But ask yourself - ask yourself - if you really want to."

He shifted one hand away from Kit's upper arm and wrapped his long, tan fingers around his throat, one by one slowly, not exerting any pressure.

"And if you do - pick a safeword right now. Because I've had a pretty long night - "

You're telling me

" - And I find myself a bit short on patience. So if you insist on trying to make me lose my temper, pick one. And if you won't, you had better head on home, little miss."

He sneered the last words, pronouncing them like the collector who'd chased him.

A thrill raced through Kit, a sudden sense of - yes, yes, this is what I was looking for - and he held himself back from pressing into those fingers.

Not yet.

"Red," he bit out. "Stoplight system. I'll say 'red' to stop everything. Yellow to stop what you're doing, but go on in general. Green to keep going. Got it?"

Zach's eyes flashed in the candlelight and he smiled, a wolfish grin. Kit didn't feel like the wolf in the room when the other man looked at him like that - he felt like the lamb.

His stomach swooped as Zach dipped him further towards the mess of razor-sharp shard littering the floor at their feet, holding him so that his balance was off, so that he'd drop if the stronger boy let go.

Would he really do it? Would he press him against the broken glass, let them dig into his skin? Did he want to see him bleed?

Why did that thought send another thrill racing though him?

Is he testing to see if I'll stop him?

One word, one little safeword and Zach wouldn't do this. And Kit might have to apologize for antagonising him, might have to go home right now, alone.

No.

So instead of speaking, he closed his eyes and waited for the sharp cutting press of glass shards, felt the cold radiating off of the floor right next to his cheek.

Then a whoosh of air and he was upright, trapped against the counter again, the grip on his throat moving to the back of his head, winging in his curls again, twisting.

"Hurt me," Kit gasped, eyes opening, commanding him. "I want - hurt me, Zach - "

The older boy dipped down to kiss him, long and hard.

"If that's what you want," he said, licking a long stripe down Kit's neck, mouthing a bruise over his throat, on top of one from earlier that night.