FIC: Secure in Someone Else's Bonds Part 3
Title: Secure in Someone Else's Bonds
Author: 3988akasha
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Main Character Death, Rape, Child Abuse Non-Con Incest, Self-Mutilation, Graphic Violence... accompanying prison themes. BDSM.
Disclaimer: I don't own them; it never happened.
Summary: A very damaged Chris Pine ends up in prison. His cellmate, for good or evil, is Zach. Zach pretty much runs the whole damn place, and Chris presents him with a fascinating challenge. The warnings ensue, in no particular order.
Beta: bones_2_be <------- (shh, it's all her fault!!) AND I love her for it, but really this fic would not exist without her being all like yeah you should write this...and then she fixed it so it looks pretty and reads like a story. Yep.
Author's Note: The whole story is written, but will be posted in 5 parts.
Part 3
His face hurt. His ass hurt. His neck hurt. His heart did not. Lying on his back to prevent his bloody lip from staining Zach’s sheets, Chris smiled contently. A small part of him was beginning to believe Zach wouldn’t leave him. That small part was tenacious and needy - kept determinedly scratching away at the remainder of the walls Chris had built around the shattered remnants of his soul. He felt Zach climb into bed behind him, warm arms wrapping around him, pulling him close. Chris wiggled back into the embrace, a contented hmmm rumbling from his chest.
“I want to know why you’re not sleeping,” Zach’s voice whispered across his ear.
Childishly, Chris shook his head.
“It bothers me that you aren’t sleeping at night. You need to tell me what keeps you up at night.”
“It was just a nightmare. People have them all the time.”
“I don’t care about what people have, Christopher. I care about the nightmares you have.”
“It’s just a nightmare. I’ve had it most of my life.”
Chris felt Zach’s lips at the base of his neck. They were warm and wet. Zach’s hands traveled his torso, fingers tracing each of his ribs.
“Tell me about it.”
Chris sighed. Clearly, Zach wasn’t going to let this go anytime soon. The nightmare was his though, his secret. Sharp pain zinged through his body when Zach pinched one of his nipples. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to share part of the dream with Zach.
“It’s about my mom.”
Zach’s teeth nibbled up and down the side of Chris’ neck, he felt goose bumps erupt on his skin.
“She died when I was seven.”
Zach’s hand traveled south, his hand wrapped around Chris’ dick, slowly stroking it to life.
“It was hard to lose her. She got sick and - and she never got better.”
Chris felt his earlobe enveloped by Zach’s warm mouth, his teeth tugged on it slightly as it passed his lips.
“After that, it was just me and - ” Chris cut off, unable to go there. Unable to tell Zach about the nightmare part of the dream.
Zach pressed a gentle kiss to the side of Chris’ neck. “It’s okay, Chris. You’ll trust me eventually.”
Chris wanted to cry at the hope in Zach’s voice. He had absolute faith that Chris would grow to trust him. It wasn’t so much about trust - Chris did trust Zach. But, it was his secret. It was the only thing that would always be his. No one needed to know.
Zach’s hand began to move faster up and down his dick. Chris closed his eyes as pleasure snaked through his system. Chris’ breathing became erratic as Zach’s hand did this twist thing on each up stroke. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d become that hard that fast. It might have been embarrassing, if he’d had enough mental energy to devote to such thoughts. As it was, his entire world was focused on Zach’s hand on his dick.
“I want you to come for me, Christopher. I want you to come all over my hand as I pump your dick.”
“Gah!” Chris sputtered, on the brink before Zach whispered in his ear.
“I want you to moan out my name, I want you to know I’m the one allowing you release.”
“Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck, Mr. Quinto.”
The words were barely out of his mouth before he came, spurts of hot come staining Zach’s hand, his chest, the sheet.
“Mmmm,” Zach hummed against his neck. “I knew you had manners trapped in that Neanderthal cranium of yours.”
Chris wanted to snap back something about large words with syllables and such, but he was too sated to do anything more than groan. It bothered him that Zach was still so fucking eloquent after jerking him off, but he’d just had a powerful orgasm - so in the large picture he figured it didn’t really matter. That night, Chris slept without any nightmares.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
As each day passed, Zach found it more and more difficult to avoid touching Chris. It wasn’t the sudden surge of lust like he’d experienced that day in the showers, Zach shuddered at the memory, but it was more a continuous undercurrent of raw need. Each time one of his marks began to fade, he had to force himself to wait until they were once more in the “privacy” of their cell before he could make a new one appear on his skin. Part of him blamed Chris. The boy didn’t make any moves to stop him, and he always remembered the appellation now. Without direction, they had established a routine, pushed their relationship into a new realm. Each night at lights out, Chris would strip out of his clothes and climb into the top bunk, silently waiting for Zach to join him. Some nights, Zach simply held him. Others - Zach grinned lasciviously.
That must be the reason he felt compelled to always be touching the boy. Having constant contact with his warm, pliant body all night made his desire to maintain contact during their conscious hours greater. What worried him though was how passive Chris had become. Zach didn’t mind giving Chris pleasure, but he wondered why Chris wouldn’t want to be a more active participant during their nocturnal activities. The one time Chris had been active in anything remotely sexual between them, Zach had nearly come undone - and it was only a kiss. Perhaps Chris was waiting for some sort of hint from Zach, some form of acknowledgement that he was allowed to touch. At the same time, Zach didn’t want to force Chris to touch him - not yet, not unless it became necessary for them both. He wouldn’t rape the boy; he feared any sort of compromise on his stance would lead to disaster.
He looked over at the desk, Chris sat curled up with another book. The boy read constantly. It seemed to give him solace. Zach smiled. Maybe some subtle hinting would work.
“Chris,” Zach said.
Chris closed his book and looked up expectantly.
“Chris, get up in my bunk. Sleep against the wall tonight.”
The boy looked confused but did as instructed. Zach shook his head before he began his own nightly routine, with one difference. He stripped off all of his clothes. For the first time in too long, he felt Chris’ hot gaze on his body. His eyes closed as warmth spread throughout his body. Languidly, Zach climbed into the bunk and settled himself in front of Chris, careful to make no contact with his body.
In the darkness, they stayed like that for long minutes. Zach felt Chris’ breath tickle his exposed flesh. It took all of Zach’s willpower to remain still. Again, he felt the exquisite torture of waiting for Chris to do something. With his eyes closed, he was able to conjure images of what it would look like for Chris to touch him finally.
The bed shifted, the creek loud in the darkness. Zach had that elusive sixth sense feeling, the one where it was a phantom touch but no one was there. Instinctively, he knew Chris had shifted closer. Silently, Zach urged him on, encouraged him to reach out and touch. It occurred to Zach that Chris was teasing him. The boy was tenacious enough to tease him in such a way. To draw out the anticipation of that first touch. Zach smiled.
There, it was feather light and it danced across his shoulder blades like a whisper. Chris’ fingers were soft, smooth - just as Zach’d imagined they’d feel. Again, Chris trailed the pads of his fingers across the skin of Zach’s shoulders. He felt Chris shift closer, his breath caressing Zach’s skin. Chris trailed his finger down Zach’s spine, he traced the contours of Zach’s back, then back up to outline his shoulders. The touches were light, hesitant, exploratory - and driving Zach mad. He wanted nothing more than to roll over and pin Chris to the mattress, pounding him into oblivion. This was what Chris had reduced him to - this uncontrollable ball of need, a tightly wound coil.
When Chris began placing kisses along Zach’s shoulders, he fisted his hands into the sheets to help remain still. Chris’ lips were as soft and warm as his fingers. Chris splayed his fingers on his shoulders, kneading the flesh while his lips gently kissed the space between them. Zach felt the air leaving Chris’ nose against his skin and the combined feelings made him shiver. He’d forgotten this feeling, this building desire. He’d been too long without a companion. Solidifying power in a place like this didn’t lend itself to intimate interludes, well, not like this. Not this give and take of pleasure, not this exchange. No. It had always been one sided. He’d thought it’d been enough. Until he’d seen Chris Pine inside his cell it had been.
Chris’ hand continued to explore, his movements gaining courage since Zach hadn’t scolded him. The boy’s left hand trailed around the top of his shoulder and down to his chest. Chris molded his body to Zach’s, and Zach could feel Chris dick hardening against his back. It pleased him to know Chris found pleasure in exploring his body. Chris ran his fingers through Zach’s chest hair, occasionally sweeping the pad of his thumb across Zach’s nipple. As it moved up his neck, Chris kept his kisses gentle, his tongue escaping to taste Zach’s skin. Testing the boundaries of his new freedom, Chris took Zach’s nipple between his thumb and first finger squeezing the hardened tip briefly before he released it, soothing it with gentle strokes. As with his verbal defiance, Zach found himself respond to Chris’ sexual assertiveness. It appeared that Chris was learning his place, his role in this relationship.
“Can I kiss you?”
Chris’ request whispered against Zach’s ear. His eyes rolled closed as the entreaty stroked his senses. He pondered the question. While he wanted nothing more than to feel Chris’ lips against his own, he knew it would change the tenor of their encounter.
“I’m sorry,” Chris whispered, “I shouldn’t have asked. You’d tell me if you wanted me to kiss you.”
Zach felt Chris shift away. He clamped his hand around Chris’ wrist, trapping it against his chest. He took a stabilizing breath.
“I want you to be comfortable with my body.”
Chris’ thumb moved absently against Zach’s chest as he waited for Chris to say something. Zach didn’t rape anyone. It was an abhorrent act, one of the few vices in which Zach would never indulge. No one in this prison was a rapist. Rapists didn’t live long enough to become citizens of this prison. None on his block lived through their first night; Zach made sure of it. Chris was safe from him in this single act.
“I’m not - ” Chris broke off, his head burrowed into Zach’s back.
Zach rolled to face Chris. Gently, he lifted Chris’ chin, forcing the boy to look up at him.
“I know you’re not ready, Chris. I won’t until you are.”
“You’re disappointed.”
“Yes.”
Chris looked down, away from Zach’s gaze.
“What are you expecting, Mr. Quinto?”
Zach stomped down the surge of lust that wracked his system when Chris employed the appellation. He expected to have better control of himself. He expected Chris to be less tempting. He expected…it didn’t matter.
“I expect you to enjoy our time together.”
Chris simply nodded and snuggled into Zach’s chest. Zach wrapped his arms around Chris’ body, enjoying the feel of him in his arms. He brushed a kiss to the top of Chris’ head. He would have patience. He would take small steps.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
The nightmares were back. Since the night Zach had decided to sleep naked, Chris had been relegated to his own bunk. He’d grown accustomed to the warmth and security of Zach’s body. Without them, the dreams once more plagued his sleep. Tonight, Chris stared up at the bottom of Zach’s bunk, wishing for x-ray vision. Wishing he knew what had upset Zach so much. At times, things were normal. Zach would launch himself at Chris, forcing his tongue down his throat. Chris lived for those moments. During those times, he still believed Zach wanted him.
“I can’t sleep, Mr. Quinto,” Chris announced.
To his amazement, Zach didn’t respond; he simply raised an eyebrow.
“You suddenly don’t care that I can’t sleep?”
This time, Zach smirked.
Chris looked at his feet, his shoulders slumped. “Let me sleep with you.”
“Are you asking me for a favor?”
“No. I just thought you wanted me to sleep.”
“I do want you to sleep.”
“Then let me sleep with you. It’s the only way I can sleep anymore.”
Zach gave Chris another one of those insufferable smirks. Chris stood from the chair. He had nothing left to lose at this point. Zach was standing in front of the sink, washing his hands. Chris moved up behind him and ran his hands down Zach’s arms. When Zach didn’t shrug him off, Chris situated himself closer to the older man’s body. Chris placed gentle kisses to the exposed skin of Zach’s shoulder. His hands roamed Zach’s broad chest. Slowly, Chris trailed his fingers down to the hem of Zach’s shirt. After taking a fortifying breath, Chris moved his hands under the black material of his wife beater. He felt the way Zach’s muscles clenched and unclenched, enjoying the heady feeling of power - he enjoyed knowing Zach was affected by him.
His mouth moved to Zach’s neck, tasting the skin there. Zach remained still, allowing Chris to explore at his own pace. This was good, if Zach made any sort of aggressive move, Chris feared he’d lose his nerve. He liked the way Zach’s skin tasted, he liked the way his lean muscles felt beneath his fingers. What he liked more was being held in those strong arms. Those arms which were powerful enough to keep his nightmares at bay. With that goal in mind, Chris moved his hands just below the waist of Zach’s jumper.
Zach seized his hands. Chris froze.
“Don’t start something you can’t finish, boy,” Zach’s voice growled, low and dangerous.
“I - I want to make you happy,” Chris managed, throat constricted.
Zach raised an eyebrow.
“You wanted me to be comfortable with your body, Mr. Quinto.”
“I did.”
“Then fucking give me a chance to get there. You randomly deciding you want to shove your goddamned tongue down my throat doesn’t give me a chance to get comfortable with you.”
“I don’t like your tone, Christopher.”
“Please, Mr. Quinto.”
Chris felt the threat of tears. He knew he had no shame. Not here, not in front of Zach. He was begging; he was pathetic. He was weak and he knew it. He’d forgotten what it was like to have someone take care of him, to have someone look out for him. It felt good to have someone else be in charge. It didn’t feel good to be ignored. It didn’t feel good to be neglected by the one he’d become dependent upon, and if he needed to do this to get the attention he craved, then that’s what he’d do.
Zach had turned around, and Chris had been so distracted he hadn’t noticed. Zach peered down at him with a thoughtful look. Chris forgot to breathe.
“You really want to do this?”
“I need to do this. I did something to piss you off - you won’t let me make it right.”
Dropping to his knees, Chris fought down the rising panic. Sure, he’d told himself he was prepared for this, but that was a lie. He wanted to make Zach happy, that wasn’t a lie, but he knew what happened when this went wrong. He knew the consequences if he didn’t do it right. He knew this was his only chance. His hands shook as he reached up and pulled the jumper down, it pooled around Zach’s ankles. Zach’s hand fisted into his hair, yanking his head back painfully to look up at Zach.
“I’m not a patient man, Christopher.”
Chris nodded, causing pain to race across his scalp since Zach still held his hair in his vice grip. He forced himself to calm down, to focus. He’d done this before, successfully. Determined to earn his way back into Zach’s bed, Chris took Zach’s dick in his hand. Zach still held his hair, forcing Chris to watch the man’s face. Chris moved his hand, grip firm, up and down the man’s shaft slowly. The first couple of movements were jerky and unpracticed, his nerves getting the best of him. After a couple of minutes, Chris had established a steady rhythm. Twisting his wrist with the upstroke, Chris watched as Zach’s eyes darkened with arousal.
It was difficult with the way Zach was holding his hair, but Chris moved his face forward, his tongue darting out to lick across the tip of Zach’s cock. The hand in his hair tightened, but then moved so that Chris could more easily reach Zach’s cock. Just like he’d been taught, Chris licked Zach’s dick like it was a lollypop. He was able to read the subtle changes in Zach’s face and knew which actions he liked the most. Zach’s mouth would part when Chris licked the underside of his dick while rolling his balls between his fingers. This part was okay for Chris. He was comfortable with this, but he knew it wouldn’t be enough. Bracing himself, Chris slowly wrapped his mouth around the head of Zach’s dick. He was careful to keep his teeth away as he pushed his mouth further and further down his dick.
Above him, Zach’s eyes rolled up and closed as Chris moved his mouth over Zach’s dick. Each time, Chris tried to take more of Zach’s girth into his mouth, but it became more difficult to do so without gagging. Chris hated gagging; it always made his eyes water. Zach changed the tempo by thrusting his hips forward into Chris’ mouth. Chris placed his hands on Zach’s thighs, kept his mouth open and waited until Zach was done fucking his mouth. It wasn’t so bad. He didn’t thrust too deeply, but it was hard and fast. Chris really had to focus to keep his teeth out of the way. Wanting to speed things up, Chris moved one of his hands down to Zach’s balls and massaged them, tugged on them, rolled them between his fingers.
“I’m going to come, Christopher. I’m going to come on your face.”
The words didn’t process at first. He felt the way Zach’s body tightened; he knew it was coming. He always knew when it was close. When Zach pulled out of his mouth, Chris blinked up at him stupidly. He blinked more when white come splashed across his face. Zach’s guttural, primal sounds of release echoed in his ears.
“I like seeing myself on you, Christopher. To see your face covered in my come.”
Chris remained on his knees, breathing hard. He’d made Zach happy. He couldn’t believe it.
“Take off your clothes. It’s time for bed.”
Legs shaky, Chris stumbled to his feet.
Zach hauled him close to his body. He crushed their mouths together. Chris could feel the other man’s come mix into their kiss. Zach seemed to enjoy the taste of himself because he would lick around Chris’ face before plunging his tongue back into Chris’ mouth. Before long, Chris felt himself respond to the kiss, his body seeking more contact. He moved his arms around Zach’s body, holding onto him tightly, returning the ardor of the kiss, submerging himself in the comfort of Zach’s presence. All too soon, Zach pulled away, his eyes as dark as ever.
“Strip and get into bed, Christopher.”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Zach watched Chris stagger to the bed. He allowed himself a few minutes to recover from Chris’ amazing mouth. It was the first time Chris had initiated any of their intimate encounters, and it made Zach smile to know that Chris was beginning to feel comfortable enough to do so. Zach walked over to the head of the bunks and reached up to the seam of his mattress. He pulled one of the glow sticks out and rolled it around in his hand. Chris deserved a treat. The boy had been excellent about remembering the appellation, and the way his lips wrapped around Zach’s dick in just that way…yes, Chris deserved a treat.
Zach felt Chris’ eyes on him as he climbed into the bed. He smiled gently at the boy; he liked the soft look in his eyes. He moved in behind Chris and felt him melt into him. Zach placed a soft kiss to Chris’ neck as he wrapped his arm around Chris’ torso. He moved his hand up so that it was in front of Chris’ face, the glow stick between his fingers.
“This will help.”
Chris didn’t say anything as he took the glow stick from Zach, but Zach felt the way the boy’s breath hitched and that was answer enough.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Chris resisted the urge to drag his feet mainly because he knew Bruce would simply haul his ass over his shoulder and take Chris to the visiting room anyway. It would be better to walk into the room on his own two feet. Fortunately, Zach hadn’t asked any questions this morning, or during lunch. For once, Chris didn’t want to lie to Zach about what was bothering him, but he wasn’t ready to talk about it either. Bruce crashed into him when he came to a stop in front of the door.
“Come on, Pine. Get a move on. It’s just a visitation,” Bruce grumbled, pushing him forward.
Chris forced his feet to move him into the room. Sitting alone at a round table in the far corner, well, as close to the far corner a person in the visitation room was allowed, the man waited. He swallowed convulsively, forcing the tremors from his body. He felt the man’s assessing gaze travel his body.
“Chris,” the man greeted, not rising from the table.
Mutely, Chris sat down opposite the man. He saw the way the man’s lips twitched in amusement. Sure, the distance was a joke, but he needed time to get his head straight. Things had been going so well in here for him.
“You don’t even have a hello for me?”
“Hi.”
“Well, that’s mature, Chris. I know what you must be thinking, but I came here because I wanted to see you - make sure you were okay.”
Chris snorted. “You’re worried about me? It’s a little late for that, don’t you think?”
“I don’t like your tone, boy.”
“I don’t give a damn whether or not you like my tone. You don’t have to like it anymore. You’ve got - ” Chris broke off abruptly, face red.
“Don’t bring her into this.”
“Why the hell not? She’s the real reason you’re here.”
“She didn’t send me.”
“I know.”
“You do?”
“Yeah, I know. She wouldn’t want you anywhere near me. You’re here because I’m here. I’m here because she wants me here.”
“It’s not like that, Chris.”
Before he could answer, the man stood and sat next to him at the table. From the way Chris shoulders were shaking with anger, hurt, and numerous other emotions he couldn’t name, it would appear the man was merely trying to offer comfort. Damn him. Damn him and the horse he rode in on straight to hell. The arm fell heavy on his shoulder, the warmth of it familiar to him, but somehow different, almost wrong. Instinctively, Chris tried to shrug it off; the fingers bit into his shoulder, forcing him to remain still. He hissed as the fingers bit into some of Zach’s more recent handiwork.
“You didn’t use to be this tender, Chris,” the man murmured, his lips brushing against Chris’ ear.
Chris fought harder to move away as he felt the material of his jumpsuit pull away from his shoulder. He knew what the other man would see. He knew the other man would see the marks on his flesh, the ownership Zach had stamped into his flesh last night, the night before…
“Seems as though I’m not the only one who moved on, hm?”
Chris didn’t answer.
“Does he take care of you? Can he give you what you need?”
Still, Chris didn’t answer. His hands balled into fists at his side as the words flowed over him. Then he felt the man’s lips ghost across his neck. He couldn’t repress the low moan from passing his lips any more than he could stop gravity from working when Zach decided to launch him out of bed. It was too familiar, too intimate - it felt too much like home. A warm tongue snaked out and traveled up and down the side of Chris’ face. The man’s hand moved from his shoulder down his chest before resting softly on top of his crotch. Chris stopped breathing.
At his neck, the lips began to suck on the skin where the neck met the shoulder. At his crotch, the hand began to rub gently. The fingers undid the fastening, moved in and wrapped around Chris’ semi-hard penis. Slowly, the hand moved up and down on his shaft, the lips at his neck pressed more insistently against his flesh.
“Breathe, Chris,” the voice whispered over his hyper-sensitive flesh.
In a woosh the breath Chris had been holding flew out of his body at the whispered command. He felt himself lulled back into the familiar sensation. The hand continued its torturous movements, a steady rhythm. His eyes fluttered closed as pleasure began seeping into his body. No longer controlled by his mind, his body responded to the intimate caresses. Sharp teeth bit into his neck, rolling the skin between them. Chris hissed and the hand at his crotch moved away. He groaned at the lack of contact. He was fully, painfully, erect.
The mouth moved away from his neck. Chris moved his face to look, knowing he shouldn’t. The man smirked triumphantly at him as he stood from the table.
“See if he’ll take you now, Chris. See if he wants my leftovers. See if he cares enough about you to finish you off.”
The man was no more than three steps away when Chris’ brain began to function again. He stood, legs only slightly shaky, and called softly after him.
“Does she let you fuck her in the ass? Does she still look at you with that disgusted look when she catches you looking at your boy porn stash?”
The words were out before he could think better of them and the man was back in front of him before anyone could have done anything. His face stung and throbbed in the wake of the blow. It was the opposite side of his face, the one unused to such abuse and Chris felt blood dripping down his chin. To his shame, his shaft twitched, still hard. With hasty, jerky movements, Chris wiped the blood from his face. He didn’t want Zach to see him like this. He couldn’t let Zach see him like this.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Zach whistled as he walked back to his cell. Things with Chris had been progressing nicely, his meeting with his lawyer had been as good as it ever was and today wasn’t mystery meat Monday. Chris had seemed a little distracted earlier, but it was the first visitation the boy had had since he’d been in here. It made sense he’d be a little nervous about it. Expecting to see him curled up in the chair reading whatever his book of the week was, Zach felt his heart rate accelerate when he didn’t see Chris sitting in the chair, or on the bunk, or on his bunk.
“Chris?” Zach called softly as he rounded the bunk bed.
Zach felt as though he’d been punched in the gut. Sitting in the corner, knees tucked up to his chin, Chris sat, a jagged piece of glass in his hand. Deep crimson drops of blood dripped from the tip of the glass shard. Chris’ eyes held a glazed look Zach didn’t like, and he quickly crouched down in front of the boy. On his left arm, ten symmetrical cuts marred Chris’ skin. Zach took a moment to appreciate the skill with which the cuts were made. Each cut was the same size and was spaced equally along the length of his arm from wrist to elbow. The cuts were shallow enough to not scar, but deep enough to draw blood, which ran freely down the side of his arm. The preciseness bothered Zach; Chris had done this before, many times. Zach pried the piece of glass from Chris’ hand and placed it on the sink. He’d figure out how in the hell the boy had managed to get a piece of glass in this place later.
“Chris, what happened?”
Chris looked at Zach without seeing him. Ice gripped Zach’s heart. Swiftly, he stood, tore off the bottom of his shirt (he really needed to find a better way to make rags) and soaked it in warm water. Crouching back down in front of him, Zach gently took Chris’ abused arm in his hands. He ran the rag over the cuts, watching the blood stain the material pink - Zach was growing to hate the color. Chris didn’t make any movements while Zach cleaned him up; if it weren’t for the rising and falling of his chest, Zach would have thought the boy was dead. He cursed himself for not asking more questions this morning. He knew better than to assume anything when it came to Chris’ emotions. Something must have happened during the visitation.
Gently, he released Chris’ arm and placed the rag in the sink. Chris still hadn’t moved.
“Chris,” Zach said, as he gently lifted the boy’s arms.
He didn’t fight against Zach as he heaved him to his feet, but he didn’t help either. Thankful for his upper body strength, Zach managed to lift Chris from the floor and drag him to the bottom bunk. Carefully, Zach situated Chris in his lap. Once they’d settled, Chris began to shake uncontrollably. Zach ran his fingers through Chris’ hair, rubbing his scalp soothingly. Slowly, he began to rock back and forth, hoping to calm Chris down enough so that they could talk. He noticed the dark, angry bruise on the other side of Chris’ mouth, and a mark on his neck - a mark he didn’t put there. They would talk once he stopped shaking so badly.
For Zach, it was an eternity before Chris stopped shaking. The only sign of life was when Zach felt Chris’ hands unclench before wrapping around his waist. Chris clung to him like a lifeline; Zach could feel the desperation in his embrace.
“Chris, you need to tell me what happened.”
Zach coerced Chris to roll onto his back so that at least he could see the boy’s face. His face was red and blotchy from his silent tears. It was easier to tell when he was being evasive that way.
“I thought you were gone,” Chris whispered, broken.
“Gone? Where was I going to go, Chris?” Zach asked, confused.
“To another cell. Away from me. I thought he - I thought he was right and you’d leave me.”
Anger and jealousy surged through Zach at the word he. He bit down his instinctual anger and focused once more on comforting Chris.
“Who said I was going to leave you?”
“H-he did. Said you wouldn’t w-want me anymore. Said I was leftovers and you wouldn’t want me because I was leftovers. You weren’t here…you didn’t come back, I waited for you to come back. Thought you’d left. You weren’t here.”
Zach caressed the side of Chris’ tearstained face. Daggers stabbed his heart as he heard Chris’ broken confession. He’d been meeting with his lawyer; they’d known each other for years and been sidetracked reminiscing about the days before Zach landed himself in jail. As a result, he’d missed dinner.
“Did he do this to your face, Chris?” Zach asked, a finger trailing lightly over the puffy area.
Chris nodded mutely against Zach’s chest.
“And this?” Zach asked, fingers ghosting over the mark on his neck.
Chris burrowed his head further into Zach’s chest, which he interpreted as “yes” - and Zach forced himself to prioritize his emotions again. The first responsibility he had was to Chris. Revenge would wait.
“I’m here, Chris. I’m not leaving you.”
Chris looked up at him, disbelief etched into his beautiful face.
“He was lying to you. This - ” Zach touched the mark on Chris’ neck, “and this - ” Zach touched the side of Chris’ mouth, “wouldn’t keep me away from you. They wouldn’t make me leave you.”
“He - he,” Chris broke off, unable to finish.
“He what, Chris? What did he do to you?”
“He touched me. It turned me on. He left me like that. Left me wanting and you were gone. He said you wouldn’t care enough to finish me off because I’m just leftovers. His leftovers.”
Zach allowed his anger to simmer below the surface. He would find out who did this to Chris. He would find out and he would ensure it could never happen again. No one touched what was his - no one.
“You’re not leftovers, Chris. You’re mine. I’m not so easy to get rid of, not easy to get rid of at all.”
“Promise?”
Zach looked down at Chris. Saw the pleading desperation in his eyes. He saw the madness lurking in the depths of those blue eyes. No one was going to take Chris away from him. No one.
“Promise.”
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