La Maison 5: Darkness (Complete: mxm BDSM)

Chapter 3.3

A/N: Gabe isn't having a good time of it here - further content warning at the bottom

Sawyer waited until Gabriel was down. The attacker wasn't going for his face – he wouldn't have stood for that. It was more as if it was play for the wiry bantam, if his cackles were anything to go by. He'd land a punch, not hard by most people's standards, but enough to knock the air from Gabriel, who clearly had less than no idea how to fight back. That was careless of Henry, but Sawyer was happy anyway. He didn't want someone who did know.

At one point the thief swiped the stolen bag off his own shoulder and used the long, folded strap to strike at Gabriel's thighs and calves. Sawyer could hear the high, pained whimpers, with their edge of something else, something interesting, all the way from his vantage point, and had to adjust himself – with a little surprise, because he usually had himself under far better control than that.

The man's much larger friend was leaning against the rough bricks of the wall, arms folded across his chest, seemingly happy to be a voyeur – only adding the occasional chuckle of his own. That would be where Sawyer would have to start, and not just because he was bigger. It was the casual confidence that would have to be crushed before he could move onto the smaller, more unpredictable guy.

Sawyer waited, listening with interest to the slurs the small man was throwing at Gabriel, that seemed to be having a similar effect on him as the rough strikes. When Gabriel was on the floor, trying to shift away; begging through thick, tear filled sobs for mercy, Sawyer thought about revealing himself, but he held back when he saw the wicked light in the man's eyes as he drew his arm, holding the strap, and brought it down with more force than anything before, right over Gabriel's tented crotch.

Sawyer stepped forward only when Gabriel let go with a traumatized scream, reveling in the looks of surprise on the two men when they saw the fine, glinting stiletto he'd pulled from his boot, and the look of danger in his eyes.

* * * * *

Gabriel didn't know what to do. He no longer cared about his attackers; the man had stopped hitting him as soon as Gabriel had done that – had made such a mess in his underwear. He wrapped his arms around his face and head – in case the man started again, perhaps, but mainly to hide the redness in his cheeks; the deep, mortifying humiliation he felt.

"Hey, shush, it's okay."

Gabriel flinched away from the big hand stroking his back, scraping across the filth-littered ground to get away; still hiding his face, still sobbing.

He pulled himself together as soon as he realized this person wasn't here to hurt him, as quickly as he could; a cold gust of air reminding him that he was too exposed. And Henry would be home. He had to get there first. He pulled himself to sit up, scrubbing the wetness away from his cheeks, yelping when he saw Mr. Montgomery leaning against a green dumpster.

"What...?"

"Are you okay? I'm sorry, you seemed distressed when I tried to soothe you – I didn't want to make it worse."

Gabriel's cheeks burned with the humiliation, and he couldn't look at the man any longer. Though there was nothing judgmental in his look, just kindness; he mustn't have realized-

"There's nothing wrong with it, you know?"

"Wrong with what?"

"Liking some pain."

"What? No. That's not-,"

"Oh, sweet boy, I think that patch of wet in your pants tells a different story."