i'll pretend that i'm missing
Most of the time, Evan hates himself. Most days he can't stand to look in the mirror, and he can't stand for his picture to be taken. There are days where he wants to stay in bed, curled under the covers because Johnny makes him feel like shit, his mother makes him feel like shit, his own reflection makes him feel like shit. The majority are caused by Johnny, poking and prodding and laughing until Evan wants to scream at him until he's hoarse, until he can't breathe and can't see because of the tears in his eyes.
But then there are days when Johnny makes everything worth it. Days when Evan doesn't want to drown himself in the scalding shower are few and far between, but they're frequent enough that he keeps going. He doesn't have anything now that Frank is gone, now that he's stopped training every single day of his life and he feels meaningless. Alone. Which doesn't entirely make sense, because he's surrounded by people constantly, but none of them actually know him.
He sits in his make-up chair, looking down at his ipod as someone brushes blush over his cheekbones. The make-up artist had complained about the circles under his eyes, how he looked dead on his feet. Evan hadn't disagreed. They tell him he's done and he goes to change, the wardrobe people giving him weird looks at the crescent shaped bite marks on his torso. He ignores them, wincing only slightly as he buttons his shirt before sitting in the audience for Dancing With the Stars, wishing he were back, and happy.
---
"Evan, I need you to focus." Johnny's voice is sharp, but Evan's vision is swimming, and he can't really hear all that well. He tries to focus, but it's hard when he's tied to the bed, his arms overextended for much longer than is safe, and the plug twisted so it hits him just right whenever he moves and the ring around his cock incredibly painful.
"I'm sorry," Evan nearly sobs, his eyes closing. It's all just too much.
Johnny shushes him gently, hand trailing down his stomach, but that just makes Evan jump, and the plug dig in to his prostate.
"Please," he begs. He can't even feel the tears on his cheeks anymore. All he can feel is the pleasure mingled with the pain, stretching him too thin, overloading his senses, and he feels like he's going to snap in two.
"Please."
Johnny wraps his hand around Evan's cock, pumping slowly, making him squirm. He reaches down to unhook the ring, and Evan nearly passes out from the force of his orgasm, literally seeing stars. He sags against his bindings, too tired to do anything about the plug that's still pressing in on sensitive areas.
Johnny removes it slowly and lets down his arms, catching him as he collapses onto him. Evan tries to remember how to breathe, and Johnny places kisses into his sweaty hair.
"You're beautiful," he mumbles into it. "You know that? I love when you do this for me." Evan whimpers, curling around Johnny and they lay back on the mattress to fall asleep.
When he wakes the next morning, Evan is alone, all of Johnny's things gone from the room. He flops back on the pillows and breathes slowly through his nose, squeezing his eyes shut as if that will make him return.
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