Fic: Wooly Muffler, Prompt #3 - Wooly
Jul. 29th, 2006 03:45 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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tamingthemuseTitle: Wooly Muffler
Fandom: Harry Potter
Prompt: #3 - Wooly
Pairing: Harry/Ron, Lucius/Ron/Draco
Rating: Mature/Adults Only
Spoilers: Post HBP
Warnings: Torture, rape, insanity, allusions to Malfoycest and a touch of daddy!kink.
Summary: Harry and Ron are captured.
Author's Note: Ron's babbling dialogue comes from the song "Wooly Muffler" by Harvey Danger, hence the title.
Wooly Muffler
Harry sat quietly, his dirty mass of raven hair pressed against the cold stone wall. His legs and ass hurt from sitting on the wooden pallet with only a scratchy, woolen blanket to protect his naked skin.
But Harry didn't dare move, didn't dare speak or cry out. Any protest he made would only make them hurt Ron more.
Just like now. He heard the familiar muffled moan and prayed that all they would do was use him tonight.
Harry should have known better than to insult their tormentors. He should have known better than to spit curses at them. He should have known better than to swear his revenge, beginning with him presenting them with their own dicks on silver platters.
The Malfoys hadn't appreciated that in the least.
A harsh slap of palm against flesh caused Harry to wince in sympathy. He hated this. Hated having to sit and listen. Hated that his friend's torture was his own.
Harry's emerald eyes slid closed as he wished, not for the first time, that he had listened to reason, even if it was just this once. He could have spared himself and his best mate this dreadful torture.
But, like always, he went in full-force, willing to brave everything for a simple belief, a hunch, damn the consequences.
Unfortunately, the consequences this time meant being captured by Lucius and Draco bloody Malfoy.
A sharp cry and a malevolent laugh from the neighboring room had Harry cringing, as if the tormentors knew Harry was thinking of them. The dark-haired boy shuddered at the images playing through his mind of the horrors Ron was living at the hands of his most hated enemies.
"By the Dark Lord, if you could see the picture you make, Ronald," the elder Malfoy's voice rumbled through the dungeon like ominous thunder. "You certainly are turning into a right slut, taking the both of us like this."
Harry's eyes slid closed, trying to block out the unwanted visions from his traitorous mind. Instead, he forced himself to relive that night in his mind. The night they'd been caught. He couldn't believe that it had only been 7, or was it 8 days ago now? He'd lost track somewhere along the way. No windows, no light, no contact with the outside world left him lost and disoriented. He was sure they were being held underground, hidden away were no one could see, but beyond that, he knew no more. All he knew was darkness, except for when they came for him...or Ron.
"Merlin, Weasley," Draco breathlessly complained. "You'd think for someone who was always using his mouth like you would be better at sucking cock."
"Now, now, my little dragon. Perhaps Ronald simply has not had the same amount of experience as you."
Their shared laughter was so eerily similar, they nearly sounded as one being. A single entity violating his friend.
Harry quietly began to bang his head against the solid wall in a vain attempt to block the horrifying sounds from his ears. If only they'd told Hermione their plan, she might have talked them out of it or maybe she'd have come along and they could have held the Malfoys off, having them out numbered three to two. But no, they had gone off alone in the middle of the night, thinking they could save the exceedingly stressed out girl the torturous trip.
It had sounded so simple. Harry and Ron were to sneak off under the protection of the invisibility clock and apparate to Godric's Hollow. The boys had decided that Harry's former home was the perfect hiding place of the final missing Horcrux. It was the last place anyone had seen Voldemort before he had tried to kill Harry as a baby and no one had been there since James and Lily's funeral. It made perfect sense to them.
Apparently they weren't the only ones.
Emerald eyes blinked back tears at the sound of a strangled whimper followed by forceful gagging.
"Now, Draco," Lucius purred. "There's no need to hurt the boy."
"Sorry, Father. He's just so tempting, what with his fumbling. You'd think he'd never done this before."
"Maybe you ought to show him how it's done."
"No."
The choked whisper was so weak, Harry barely heard it. Still, it stung him to the core.
They'd gone to visit Harry's parent's graves first. They had stared quietly at the simple headstones, neither boy really knowing what to say. The house looked so quiet and peaceful; it hardly seemed possible that it had been the scene of several gruesome murders.
They should have known something was wrong from the start. They had both felt the coldness that seemed to surround the house, shivering as every hair on their bodies stood on edge. Neither boy recognized the feelings as a reaction to the protective wards erected on the site until the Malfoy's apparated before them, wands drawn.
Harry and Ron didn't stand a chance.
A shuddering sigh and a low moan made a shiver dart up Harry's spine. He tried to convince himself that it from the cold. It wasn't working.
When he'd woke up from the stunning spell, Harry had found himself alone in the tiny stone room…and heard Ron shrieking in the throws of the Cruciatus curse.
Harry had screamed until he was hoarse, begging the unseen evil to stop hurting his friend. Eventually, the spell ended but Ron's cries didn't, not for a long time. That was the real curse of Crucio. It continued to destroy its victim long after it was done being cast.
They had come to Harry next and he had braced himself for the worst. But the curse he expected never came. Lucius only watched "The Boy Who Lived", simply asking him, "What were you looking for?"
Harry had gaped at him, shocked at the question. He'd huddled in the corner, hiding his nakedness and responded quietly. "I wanted to see my parent's graves before I died. I needed to see the place were I first destroyed Voldemort."
It was the response he and Ron had rehearsed in case they were caught. He never really thought they would need to use it.
"Please," Ron whispered from the neighboring room, his voice breathy and trembling. "Don't."
Harry tried to ignore to pleasure in the shaky voice. Tried and failed.
The elder Malfoy hadn't seemed pleased with Harry's answer, but had turned and left without further comment. Then he went in to Ron.
The voices carried easily into Harry's cell. The walls were solid except for the one adjoining their rooms. Barely wide enough for even a boy as thin for Harry to slip through, the gap in the wall was fortified with bars and was so close to the ceiling, Harry would need a ladder just to reach it.
Lucius had asked Ron the same question and upon receiving the same answer, the elder Malfoy simply laughed. Harry thought that would be the end of it.
It was only the beginning.
Lucius came to Harry again the next day. The second the door opened, the incensed young man launched himself at the elder Malfoy. He was determined to take out his captor, even if he had to do it with his bare hands.
He never got the chance to even touch the arrogant wizard. Lucius froze Harry the flick of his wand, driving the boy to back into his cell with a simple "Imperio".
Normally, Harry would have had no trouble throwing off the Imperius curse, but he was weak and tired and he struggled hard to regain control of his body. He might have eventually been able to break free, but just as he had felt the bonds beginning to break, Draco stepped out from behind his father, strengthening the curse and forcing Harry deeper into his cell.
Once he was pressed to the far wall, Lucius asked his question again before releasing the spell.
Harry answered as he had previously. The Malfoys smiled and left Harry in silence. Then they had gone in to see Ron.
"Don't finish him off too early, Draco," Lucius purred in a way that Harry had learned to both love and hate. Silky smooth and dark like the richest chocolate, that voice haunted Harry's dreams, leaving hard and aching.
The answer was a muffled groan and a strangled whimper. Harry bit back a sob and squeezed his eyes even tighter to try and block the images from his mind.
Every day they came. Every day they asked the same question, wanting a different answer. Every day they left without one.
They never touched Harry with anything more than Imperius. They tortured him with the screams of his friend. He cried and moaned as Ron danced on the end of their wands or on the ends of their cocks.
Both Lucius and Draco had taken great pleasure in tormenting Harry with their seemingly casual conversations that they knew the young Gryffindor could hear. They laughed as they talked about the deaths they'd dealt, the pain they'd caused. Lucius seemed to get great pleasure in recounting the story of how he'd escaped Azkaban once the Dementors had joined the Death Eaters.
Harry could only pray that things really weren't as bleak as his tormentors made it seem.
"Now, Ronald, tell me what you were doing at Godric's Hollow."
Harry held his breath and willed his friend to be strong, just one more time.
"We weren't looking for nothing," Ron panted, his voice raw and brittle. "Please, just...please."
"Oh no, my little whore. You get to come when you tell me the truth."
Ron whimpered and cried and moaned. Harry always heard the pain in his friend's voice when he was being tortured, whether by curse or fist or knife, but the worst was when they pleasured him. Making him want their touch, needing the release they could give him was slowing tearing them both apart.
Ron stuttered and gasped, fighting them, fighting himself until he blurted, "Alright! Alright." Sobbing now, Ron continued, "It was my idea."
Harry started to hyperventilate, panicking at Ron's deviation for the rehearsed lines.
"It was my idea to go there. I wanted to see it. I had to know...to know that Harry could do it…could really beat You-know-who."
The deep, dark laugh of Lucius filled both rooms and Harry waited with baited breath.
"So that's it?" the elder Malfoy asked. "You were doubting your precious Potter and you wanted to go back to the Dark Lord's first defeat to renew your faith?"
"Yes," Ron sobbed, sounding more broken than Harry had ever heard him.
"Shh," Lucius cooed and soothed, comforting the distraught boy. "It's alright, my pretty little toy. Come for me, boy."
Harry clamped his hands over his ears, vainly trying to block the sounds assaulting him. The moans and cries, the slap of flesh against flesh, but he couldn't block out of the strangled cry of Ron's anguished orgasm or the indulgent moan of Lucius.
Hoping he'd heard the end of it, the raven-haired boy collapsed onto the pallet, exhausted as he had been the one violated. He cringed when he heard Draco pitiful whine.
"Father."
"What's the matter, my little dragon? Are you still needy? Come, let Daddy see."
Harry threw his arms over his head, begging for it all to stop. Mercifully, Draco came quickly, whimpering high and wild, little a small animal in pain.
"Very nice, Draco," Lucius praised his only child. "Now you can hardly see all those damned freckles."
The Malfoys shared a hollow, evil laugh. Harry heard them shuffling Ron around before he was dumped onto his own wooden pallet. With a disgusted snort, Lucius ordered, "Draco, make sure the house elves bring Mr. Weasley a new wooly blanket. This one is looking a little rank."
"Sure thing," Draco responded before turning to follow the elder Malfoy out of the room. He made sure to throw a, "Later, Weasel," over his shoulder before the door was slammed shut.
Harry slowly sat up, waiting. It was blessedly silent for several long minutes.
Then the scratching started.
Harry didn't know what Ron was doing, but the scratching inevitably followed the torture. If Ron's torture was Harry's torture then Ron's insanity would surely cause Harry's.
Resting his head against the wall where he expected a redhead one would match on the other side, Harry sighed when the rambling started.
"All I ever wanted to be was a wooly muffler on your naked neck. Double wrap me when it's cold. But you pulled a little tight just now. And I'm afraid, I feel a choke hold coming on."
And the scratching continued.
Harry sighed, trying to hold in the hysterical laughter that was building in his chest and threatening to spill over. Here he was, trapped in a dungeon by his most malicious and hated enemies, reduced to helplessly listening to his best mate being tortured and raped, only to have his friend profess his love through insane, post-traumatic babbling.
Such was the life of Harry Potter.
"All I ever thought it would come to was second dates and flirting eyebrows or maybe even psychic friends. And we could share a secret language and almost definitely make more of this than it was. But everyone around us would know. Everyone watching would know."
Harry often wondered if Ron remembered anything he said once his sanity returned. If he did, the redheaded boy never mentioned it, almost as if it were another person speaking the words through the stone wall. It was almost too much for Harry to hope that Ron meant every confusing, convoluted word he spoke.
He drifted as Ron spoke and scratched, letting the other boy's voice comfort him in a way he could not duplicate. He had to stay sane, had to be strong for both of them. Harry planned. Planned ways to return every torture back on the Malfoys, once for him and once for Ron.
Then he would take Ron away, heal him, mind and body, erasing every touch, every lick, every bite with his hands and lips and tongue.
Harry started when something brushed along his leg. Thinking it was a rat, or something equally horrific, the young boy darted away from the wall. Looking down, he was surprised to see torn and bloody fingers peeking out through a small hole in the wall.
He watched the grasping fingers in awe. Ron had worked through the stone and mortar to reach out to The Boy Who Lived. Harry reached down, slowly entwining their fingers through the wall.
"It's gonna be alright, isn't Harry?"
Harry smiled. He knew that somehow, they would make it through.
"Yeah, Ron. What's the matter? Don't believe in me anymore?"
Ron sounded highly offended. "Of course I do, you git!"
"Berk."
"Pillock."
"Slag."
Laughter filled both rooms as the boys settled down on their makeshift beds, pulling the scratchy woolen blankets around their nakedness. They knew someone was out there, hunting for them, looking for them, just waiting to rescue them. It was just a matter of time.
Until then, they had each other and a small hole in a wall that couldn't keep them apart.
~~~~The End~~~~
Fandom: Harry Potter
Prompt: #3 - Wooly
Pairing: Harry/Ron, Lucius/Ron/Draco
Rating: Mature/Adults Only
Spoilers: Post HBP
Warnings: Torture, rape, insanity, allusions to Malfoycest and a touch of daddy!kink.
Summary: Harry and Ron are captured.
Author's Note: Ron's babbling dialogue comes from the song "Wooly Muffler" by Harvey Danger, hence the title.
Harry sat quietly, his dirty mass of raven hair pressed against the cold stone wall. His legs and ass hurt from sitting on the wooden pallet with only a scratchy, woolen blanket to protect his naked skin.
But Harry didn't dare move, didn't dare speak or cry out. Any protest he made would only make them hurt Ron more.
Just like now. He heard the familiar muffled moan and prayed that all they would do was use him tonight.
Harry should have known better than to insult their tormentors. He should have known better than to spit curses at them. He should have known better than to swear his revenge, beginning with him presenting them with their own dicks on silver platters.
The Malfoys hadn't appreciated that in the least.
A harsh slap of palm against flesh caused Harry to wince in sympathy. He hated this. Hated having to sit and listen. Hated that his friend's torture was his own.
Harry's emerald eyes slid closed as he wished, not for the first time, that he had listened to reason, even if it was just this once. He could have spared himself and his best mate this dreadful torture.
But, like always, he went in full-force, willing to brave everything for a simple belief, a hunch, damn the consequences.
Unfortunately, the consequences this time meant being captured by Lucius and Draco bloody Malfoy.
A sharp cry and a malevolent laugh from the neighboring room had Harry cringing, as if the tormentors knew Harry was thinking of them. The dark-haired boy shuddered at the images playing through his mind of the horrors Ron was living at the hands of his most hated enemies.
"By the Dark Lord, if you could see the picture you make, Ronald," the elder Malfoy's voice rumbled through the dungeon like ominous thunder. "You certainly are turning into a right slut, taking the both of us like this."
Harry's eyes slid closed, trying to block out the unwanted visions from his traitorous mind. Instead, he forced himself to relive that night in his mind. The night they'd been caught. He couldn't believe that it had only been 7, or was it 8 days ago now? He'd lost track somewhere along the way. No windows, no light, no contact with the outside world left him lost and disoriented. He was sure they were being held underground, hidden away were no one could see, but beyond that, he knew no more. All he knew was darkness, except for when they came for him...or Ron.
"Merlin, Weasley," Draco breathlessly complained. "You'd think for someone who was always using his mouth like you would be better at sucking cock."
"Now, now, my little dragon. Perhaps Ronald simply has not had the same amount of experience as you."
Their shared laughter was so eerily similar, they nearly sounded as one being. A single entity violating his friend.
Harry quietly began to bang his head against the solid wall in a vain attempt to block the horrifying sounds from his ears. If only they'd told Hermione their plan, she might have talked them out of it or maybe she'd have come along and they could have held the Malfoys off, having them out numbered three to two. But no, they had gone off alone in the middle of the night, thinking they could save the exceedingly stressed out girl the torturous trip.
It had sounded so simple. Harry and Ron were to sneak off under the protection of the invisibility clock and apparate to Godric's Hollow. The boys had decided that Harry's former home was the perfect hiding place of the final missing Horcrux. It was the last place anyone had seen Voldemort before he had tried to kill Harry as a baby and no one had been there since James and Lily's funeral. It made perfect sense to them.
Apparently they weren't the only ones.
Emerald eyes blinked back tears at the sound of a strangled whimper followed by forceful gagging.
"Now, Draco," Lucius purred. "There's no need to hurt the boy."
"Sorry, Father. He's just so tempting, what with his fumbling. You'd think he'd never done this before."
"Maybe you ought to show him how it's done."
"No."
The choked whisper was so weak, Harry barely heard it. Still, it stung him to the core.
They'd gone to visit Harry's parent's graves first. They had stared quietly at the simple headstones, neither boy really knowing what to say. The house looked so quiet and peaceful; it hardly seemed possible that it had been the scene of several gruesome murders.
They should have known something was wrong from the start. They had both felt the coldness that seemed to surround the house, shivering as every hair on their bodies stood on edge. Neither boy recognized the feelings as a reaction to the protective wards erected on the site until the Malfoy's apparated before them, wands drawn.
Harry and Ron didn't stand a chance.
A shuddering sigh and a low moan made a shiver dart up Harry's spine. He tried to convince himself that it from the cold. It wasn't working.
When he'd woke up from the stunning spell, Harry had found himself alone in the tiny stone room…and heard Ron shrieking in the throws of the Cruciatus curse.
Harry had screamed until he was hoarse, begging the unseen evil to stop hurting his friend. Eventually, the spell ended but Ron's cries didn't, not for a long time. That was the real curse of Crucio. It continued to destroy its victim long after it was done being cast.
They had come to Harry next and he had braced himself for the worst. But the curse he expected never came. Lucius only watched "The Boy Who Lived", simply asking him, "What were you looking for?"
Harry had gaped at him, shocked at the question. He'd huddled in the corner, hiding his nakedness and responded quietly. "I wanted to see my parent's graves before I died. I needed to see the place were I first destroyed Voldemort."
It was the response he and Ron had rehearsed in case they were caught. He never really thought they would need to use it.
"Please," Ron whispered from the neighboring room, his voice breathy and trembling. "Don't."
Harry tried to ignore to pleasure in the shaky voice. Tried and failed.
The elder Malfoy hadn't seemed pleased with Harry's answer, but had turned and left without further comment. Then he went in to Ron.
The voices carried easily into Harry's cell. The walls were solid except for the one adjoining their rooms. Barely wide enough for even a boy as thin for Harry to slip through, the gap in the wall was fortified with bars and was so close to the ceiling, Harry would need a ladder just to reach it.
Lucius had asked Ron the same question and upon receiving the same answer, the elder Malfoy simply laughed. Harry thought that would be the end of it.
It was only the beginning.
Lucius came to Harry again the next day. The second the door opened, the incensed young man launched himself at the elder Malfoy. He was determined to take out his captor, even if he had to do it with his bare hands.
He never got the chance to even touch the arrogant wizard. Lucius froze Harry the flick of his wand, driving the boy to back into his cell with a simple "Imperio".
Normally, Harry would have had no trouble throwing off the Imperius curse, but he was weak and tired and he struggled hard to regain control of his body. He might have eventually been able to break free, but just as he had felt the bonds beginning to break, Draco stepped out from behind his father, strengthening the curse and forcing Harry deeper into his cell.
Once he was pressed to the far wall, Lucius asked his question again before releasing the spell.
Harry answered as he had previously. The Malfoys smiled and left Harry in silence. Then they had gone in to see Ron.
"Don't finish him off too early, Draco," Lucius purred in a way that Harry had learned to both love and hate. Silky smooth and dark like the richest chocolate, that voice haunted Harry's dreams, leaving hard and aching.
The answer was a muffled groan and a strangled whimper. Harry bit back a sob and squeezed his eyes even tighter to try and block the images from his mind.
Every day they came. Every day they asked the same question, wanting a different answer. Every day they left without one.
They never touched Harry with anything more than Imperius. They tortured him with the screams of his friend. He cried and moaned as Ron danced on the end of their wands or on the ends of their cocks.
Both Lucius and Draco had taken great pleasure in tormenting Harry with their seemingly casual conversations that they knew the young Gryffindor could hear. They laughed as they talked about the deaths they'd dealt, the pain they'd caused. Lucius seemed to get great pleasure in recounting the story of how he'd escaped Azkaban once the Dementors had joined the Death Eaters.
Harry could only pray that things really weren't as bleak as his tormentors made it seem.
"Now, Ronald, tell me what you were doing at Godric's Hollow."
Harry held his breath and willed his friend to be strong, just one more time.
"We weren't looking for nothing," Ron panted, his voice raw and brittle. "Please, just...please."
"Oh no, my little whore. You get to come when you tell me the truth."
Ron whimpered and cried and moaned. Harry always heard the pain in his friend's voice when he was being tortured, whether by curse or fist or knife, but the worst was when they pleasured him. Making him want their touch, needing the release they could give him was slowing tearing them both apart.
Ron stuttered and gasped, fighting them, fighting himself until he blurted, "Alright! Alright." Sobbing now, Ron continued, "It was my idea."
Harry started to hyperventilate, panicking at Ron's deviation for the rehearsed lines.
"It was my idea to go there. I wanted to see it. I had to know...to know that Harry could do it…could really beat You-know-who."
The deep, dark laugh of Lucius filled both rooms and Harry waited with baited breath.
"So that's it?" the elder Malfoy asked. "You were doubting your precious Potter and you wanted to go back to the Dark Lord's first defeat to renew your faith?"
"Yes," Ron sobbed, sounding more broken than Harry had ever heard him.
"Shh," Lucius cooed and soothed, comforting the distraught boy. "It's alright, my pretty little toy. Come for me, boy."
Harry clamped his hands over his ears, vainly trying to block the sounds assaulting him. The moans and cries, the slap of flesh against flesh, but he couldn't block out of the strangled cry of Ron's anguished orgasm or the indulgent moan of Lucius.
Hoping he'd heard the end of it, the raven-haired boy collapsed onto the pallet, exhausted as he had been the one violated. He cringed when he heard Draco pitiful whine.
"Father."
"What's the matter, my little dragon? Are you still needy? Come, let Daddy see."
Harry threw his arms over his head, begging for it all to stop. Mercifully, Draco came quickly, whimpering high and wild, little a small animal in pain.
"Very nice, Draco," Lucius praised his only child. "Now you can hardly see all those damned freckles."
The Malfoys shared a hollow, evil laugh. Harry heard them shuffling Ron around before he was dumped onto his own wooden pallet. With a disgusted snort, Lucius ordered, "Draco, make sure the house elves bring Mr. Weasley a new wooly blanket. This one is looking a little rank."
"Sure thing," Draco responded before turning to follow the elder Malfoy out of the room. He made sure to throw a, "Later, Weasel," over his shoulder before the door was slammed shut.
Harry slowly sat up, waiting. It was blessedly silent for several long minutes.
Then the scratching started.
Harry didn't know what Ron was doing, but the scratching inevitably followed the torture. If Ron's torture was Harry's torture then Ron's insanity would surely cause Harry's.
Resting his head against the wall where he expected a redhead one would match on the other side, Harry sighed when the rambling started.
"All I ever wanted to be was a wooly muffler on your naked neck. Double wrap me when it's cold. But you pulled a little tight just now. And I'm afraid, I feel a choke hold coming on."
And the scratching continued.
Harry sighed, trying to hold in the hysterical laughter that was building in his chest and threatening to spill over. Here he was, trapped in a dungeon by his most malicious and hated enemies, reduced to helplessly listening to his best mate being tortured and raped, only to have his friend profess his love through insane, post-traumatic babbling.
Such was the life of Harry Potter.
"All I ever thought it would come to was second dates and flirting eyebrows or maybe even psychic friends. And we could share a secret language and almost definitely make more of this than it was. But everyone around us would know. Everyone watching would know."
Harry often wondered if Ron remembered anything he said once his sanity returned. If he did, the redheaded boy never mentioned it, almost as if it were another person speaking the words through the stone wall. It was almost too much for Harry to hope that Ron meant every confusing, convoluted word he spoke.
He drifted as Ron spoke and scratched, letting the other boy's voice comfort him in a way he could not duplicate. He had to stay sane, had to be strong for both of them. Harry planned. Planned ways to return every torture back on the Malfoys, once for him and once for Ron.
Then he would take Ron away, heal him, mind and body, erasing every touch, every lick, every bite with his hands and lips and tongue.
Harry started when something brushed along his leg. Thinking it was a rat, or something equally horrific, the young boy darted away from the wall. Looking down, he was surprised to see torn and bloody fingers peeking out through a small hole in the wall.
He watched the grasping fingers in awe. Ron had worked through the stone and mortar to reach out to The Boy Who Lived. Harry reached down, slowly entwining their fingers through the wall.
"It's gonna be alright, isn't Harry?"
Harry smiled. He knew that somehow, they would make it through.
"Yeah, Ron. What's the matter? Don't believe in me anymore?"
Ron sounded highly offended. "Of course I do, you git!"
"Berk."
"Pillock."
"Slag."
Laughter filled both rooms as the boys settled down on their makeshift beds, pulling the scratchy woolen blankets around their nakedness. They knew someone was out there, hunting for them, looking for them, just waiting to rescue them. It was just a matter of time.
Until then, they had each other and a small hole in a wall that couldn't keep them apart.
~~~~The End~~~~
Re: well...
Date: 2006-08-01 02:36 am (UTC)I seem to be really writing dark stuff lately but it's working well. I love exploring the darker sides of these characters. Plus I like getting to break the pretty boys just to try and put them back together.
Thanks for the feedback. I really appreciate it.