A Cold Welcome (1/2)
Title: A Cold Welcome
Author: monimi101
Pairing: Beckett/Mikey, with hints of Ville/Mikey (Future Pete/Mikey/Beckett)
Rating: R
Warnings: PWP, mansex, semi-noncon, in a cultverse kind of way, bondage, ice play, general creepishness. (Gets more hardcore in the second chapter.)
Summary: Getting drunk at Pete's parties is never really a good idea. To be honest, they're kind of suspicious. None the less, everyone he knows is there, and what else would he do on a fine Saturday night off like this?
Disclaimer: So totally and completely not real. At all. In any way. It's not even all that realistic or in character, to be honest.
Author's Note's: Not beta'd, regrettably. If you notice any horrible mistakes, please let me know.
1
“Hey there beautiful…” Mikey slurred. “How you doing?” It had to be admitted that getting this drunk at one of Pete’s parties wasn’t quite a good idea. The last time he’d been this drunk in the same room as Pete and all his schemes, he’d ended up tied to a bed, completely immobilized by some Finnish guy he might have seen on Warped a year or two ago. Or some other tour. Which, despite how beautiful the guy was, was kind of a problem. Since you know, Mikey was straight. But that wasn’t the point right now. The point was this wonderfully skinny brunette in front of him.
“I’m doing quite well thank you.” The lanky girl turned around, and draped herself over his shoulder. “What about you, cutie?” Mikey squinted at her. He had kind of expected her tits to be bigger. But she was still pretty hot.
“I’m doing pretty guh-okay…” Saying good and okay at the same time wasn’t very effective, he thought to himself.
“Yeah?” She drawled in his ear. Now that he thought about it, didn’t girls normally have higher voices than this? “Cause I think I can make you feel better than okay.”
“You think?” Mikey replied. In the back of his mind, something was telling him that he’d done something like this before. That something was overruled by the part of him that was drunk enough and horny enough not to pay any attention.
“Mm-hmm…” The brunettes warm breath in his ear was enough to make him follow when she weaved through the crowd towards the stairs. On his way through the room, he saw Pete wink at him. He grinned and started following her up the stairs. He wondered vaguely if she’d had as much to drink as he had.
On his way up the stairs, he tripped over something warm and soft. He fell on his chin, hard, and heard loud swearing under him.
“I fuckin hate you!” The lumpy stair exclaimed at him. He giggled a bit. Where was he going?
“Hey gorgeous.” A sultry voice came from above him. “You still coming?” Oh yeah. He clambered to his feet, stepping on the odd stair, no person, probably… on his way up.
When he got to the top of the stairs, the brunette grabbed the collar of his shirt and dragged him into a room. “Have you ever been in this room before?” The person affixed to his collar asked. He nodded yes on instinct. It did look vaguely familiar.
“Good.” She shut the door behind him and kissed him, hard. For a minute, he thought, wait, I shouldn’t be the one pinned to the door… And then she did this weird thing with her tongue in his mouth and he forgot a lot of things. He almost slid down the door, but she caught him, wrapping one of his legs around her. Which is about the point where he noticed the feeling of something odd against his thigh.
“I dun like your cell phone, lady.” He mumbled at her. She smirked in a very un-feminine way and rolled her hips.
“That’s not a cell phone, honey.” She said, and licked his neck. Waitaminute… He tried to think for a minute, but she was still doing that thing with her tongue on his neck, and he was still kind of grinding against her, so his already mushy-brain didn’t quite grasp it. An unbidden memory of ropes around his wrists flashed into his mind, and left just as quickly as it had come.
“I think you need a wakeup call.” The brunette told him, and carried him to the bed, where he was thrown down harshly. She straddled him, and kissed him hard, and wait a minute, when girls straddle you, that’s not how it’s supposed to feel, and as she grinds against him, he realizes why.
“You’re not a woman at all!” She shouts at her. “You-“
“Of course not.” The not-woman above him says. That makes sense.
Mikey hears a firm sounding click above his head. His hands feel kind of cold, and he moves to hold her… him? But it fails. His hands stop before they can get past his ears, and make a weird metallic sound. He cranes his neck to look upwards, and catches a glimpse of something shiny.
“What kind of witch are you?” He accuses.
“I’m not a witch at all.” The lanky person above him says. “I’m William Beckett.”
“Will…” That name is familiar. He stops moving and thinks for a few minutes. Beckett is that guy from the Academy Is… The one who Gabe is always licking and kissing and biting and stuff. And he’s a guy. Like, the kind with a penis.
“You’re that guy!” He exclaims.
“That guy who’s about to fuck you.” Bill whispers into his ear. “Yeah.”
“No, not that guy!” Mikey argues. “Guys don’t fuck me.”
“I beg to differ.” Bill replies, smirking.
“Well, there was that one time…” he admits. “But that was different! I’m not like. That.” Bill palms his cock twice, exactly how Mikey likes it, and he moans loudly.
“Yes you are.” Bill tells him. “You are like this. Whether you like it or not.”
“Nu-uuuhnnn~” His objection becomes another moan as the taller man continues to fondle him.
“You know this is what you’re like.” Bill says, right into his ear. “You want me to have my way with you. You want me to lick you, and bite you. You want me to control you, to fuck you, fuck you until you’re screaming.” He bites Mikey’s ear-lobe.
“But I’m not…”
“You want me to shove my cock into you, over and over, until you can’t take it any more.”
Now Mikey knew that wasn’t correct. At all. But somehow, he heard himself say, “Yeah, you got me,” and then he hears Bill say, “Oh, I haven’t even started to get you yet.”
“Better get started then.” A voice from the door says. Mikey turns groggily and sees Pete standing in the doorway. While he’s looking over there, trying to remember exactly where he is, Bill opens his shirt and strips him of his pants and boxers.
“Oh, hi Pete.” Mikey says cheerfully. And then something ridiculously cold is touching the bottom of his feet, and he startles.
“Holy fuck that’s cold!” He shouts. Pete saunters over and attaches leather cuffs to his ankles, attaching them to chains which are attached to the bed.
“Hey, no!” He says. Suddenly, he’s feeling a lot more sober. “You can’t just tie me to the bed like this! Not you!” The something cold is still on his foot, and ohmygod is it ever cold, it’s almost burning. He cranes his neck to look up. Again, memories of a similar past night flash into his mind. A memory of tattooed flesh and unbearable pleasure. His cock twitches at the thought, and he blushes.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” He exclaims, starting to get panicked. Somehow, the coldness massaging his foot is way more sensual than it should be, and even though he knows he shouldn’t be enjoying this, whatever this is, he is enjoying it. Possibly even more so because of Pete’s sinister eyes watching him, his detached smirk.
“I believe William already explained the basics.” Pete says. Mikey remembers what his just agreed to, and pales. The cold, probably ice, is suddenly replaced by a hot mouth, and he just barely suppresses a groan at the sudden heat and softness. He’s still enjoying this too much. He’s half hard still, and it’s ridiculous, because Pete is still watching him, and it’s fucking creepy, but something about the idea of this beautiful person taking him, fucking him, while Pete watches, eyes cold and unfeeling, except for the one spark of who-knows-what, something like lust or pride, but so much more sinister…
Bill is sucking on his toes now, and fuck if it wasn’t the most erotic thing he’d ever experienced. But still. They’re guys. And Mikey is still pretty sure he prefers the pussy.
“Pete, no.” He says, and it’s supposed to be forceful somehow, but instead, it’s a whimper, and suddenly, Mikey is feeling pathetic and weak, and more than anything else, scared.
Pete grins. “I’m only watching, Mikey.” His voice is too soft, and it’s majorly creepy. “If you want anything, you’ll have to ask Bill.” Bill is kissing and licking his way up Mikey’s calf now. And he’s scared shitless. He does not want this. He does not want to get fucked by William Beckett. He does not want Pete watching him with his cold, creepy eyes. But no matter how much his mind does not, does not, want it, his body is something entirely different. His body, he has to control very carefully so it doesn’t start writhing and twisting in weird lustful ways that Mikey has never even considered before. Every time Beckett’s mouth moves, he has to suppress a moan or some other, even more embarrassing sound.
He’s not feeling the thick fog of alcohol so much any more. But he knows it’s still there. Because if it wasn’t, there’s no way he’d have to restrain himself this much. There’s no way he wouldn’t just tell them, firmly, no thanks, I’m not so into gay sex. Find someone else. As if to prove to himself the who-knows-how-much alcohol he’d drank hadn’t had such a huge effect, he opened his mouth to say just that.
But by the time he’d thought all of it through and found his words and figured out how to get them in order, Bill was as his inner thigh, just above his knee. So when he opened his mouth to tell them to let him go and find someone else, Bill suddenly bit his thigh. And what came out of his mouth was not a firm but reasonable request at all. It was more of a yelp, followed by an incoherent string of pleas.
As if on a cue, Pete stepped forwards, and drew from a nightstand drawer a bandana, possibly the very one Bill had been wearing when he’d first met the skinny guy. He folded it into a strip of cloth and stepped towards Mikey, putting it over his eyes, and tying it tightly. It was around then that Mikey figured out that he was trapped. No polite request would save him.
He was about to get fucked my William Beckett. And there was not a thing he could do about it.
Author: monimi101
Pairing: Beckett/Mikey, with hints of Ville/Mikey (Future Pete/Mikey/Beckett)
Rating: R
Warnings: PWP, mansex, semi-noncon, in a cultverse kind of way, bondage, ice play, general creepishness. (Gets more hardcore in the second chapter.)
Summary: Getting drunk at Pete's parties is never really a good idea. To be honest, they're kind of suspicious. None the less, everyone he knows is there, and what else would he do on a fine Saturday night off like this?
Disclaimer: So totally and completely not real. At all. In any way. It's not even all that realistic or in character, to be honest.
Author's Note's: Not beta'd, regrettably. If you notice any horrible mistakes, please let me know.
1
“Hey there beautiful…” Mikey slurred. “How you doing?” It had to be admitted that getting this drunk at one of Pete’s parties wasn’t quite a good idea. The last time he’d been this drunk in the same room as Pete and all his schemes, he’d ended up tied to a bed, completely immobilized by some Finnish guy he might have seen on Warped a year or two ago. Or some other tour. Which, despite how beautiful the guy was, was kind of a problem. Since you know, Mikey was straight. But that wasn’t the point right now. The point was this wonderfully skinny brunette in front of him.
“I’m doing quite well thank you.” The lanky girl turned around, and draped herself over his shoulder. “What about you, cutie?” Mikey squinted at her. He had kind of expected her tits to be bigger. But she was still pretty hot.
“I’m doing pretty guh-okay…” Saying good and okay at the same time wasn’t very effective, he thought to himself.
“Yeah?” She drawled in his ear. Now that he thought about it, didn’t girls normally have higher voices than this? “Cause I think I can make you feel better than okay.”
“You think?” Mikey replied. In the back of his mind, something was telling him that he’d done something like this before. That something was overruled by the part of him that was drunk enough and horny enough not to pay any attention.
“Mm-hmm…” The brunettes warm breath in his ear was enough to make him follow when she weaved through the crowd towards the stairs. On his way through the room, he saw Pete wink at him. He grinned and started following her up the stairs. He wondered vaguely if she’d had as much to drink as he had.
On his way up the stairs, he tripped over something warm and soft. He fell on his chin, hard, and heard loud swearing under him.
“I fuckin hate you!” The lumpy stair exclaimed at him. He giggled a bit. Where was he going?
“Hey gorgeous.” A sultry voice came from above him. “You still coming?” Oh yeah. He clambered to his feet, stepping on the odd stair, no person, probably… on his way up.
When he got to the top of the stairs, the brunette grabbed the collar of his shirt and dragged him into a room. “Have you ever been in this room before?” The person affixed to his collar asked. He nodded yes on instinct. It did look vaguely familiar.
“Good.” She shut the door behind him and kissed him, hard. For a minute, he thought, wait, I shouldn’t be the one pinned to the door… And then she did this weird thing with her tongue in his mouth and he forgot a lot of things. He almost slid down the door, but she caught him, wrapping one of his legs around her. Which is about the point where he noticed the feeling of something odd against his thigh.
“I dun like your cell phone, lady.” He mumbled at her. She smirked in a very un-feminine way and rolled her hips.
“That’s not a cell phone, honey.” She said, and licked his neck. Waitaminute… He tried to think for a minute, but she was still doing that thing with her tongue on his neck, and he was still kind of grinding against her, so his already mushy-brain didn’t quite grasp it. An unbidden memory of ropes around his wrists flashed into his mind, and left just as quickly as it had come.
“I think you need a wakeup call.” The brunette told him, and carried him to the bed, where he was thrown down harshly. She straddled him, and kissed him hard, and wait a minute, when girls straddle you, that’s not how it’s supposed to feel, and as she grinds against him, he realizes why.
“You’re not a woman at all!” She shouts at her. “You-“
“Of course not.” The not-woman above him says. That makes sense.
Mikey hears a firm sounding click above his head. His hands feel kind of cold, and he moves to hold her… him? But it fails. His hands stop before they can get past his ears, and make a weird metallic sound. He cranes his neck to look upwards, and catches a glimpse of something shiny.
“What kind of witch are you?” He accuses.
“I’m not a witch at all.” The lanky person above him says. “I’m William Beckett.”
“Will…” That name is familiar. He stops moving and thinks for a few minutes. Beckett is that guy from the Academy Is… The one who Gabe is always licking and kissing and biting and stuff. And he’s a guy. Like, the kind with a penis.
“You’re that guy!” He exclaims.
“That guy who’s about to fuck you.” Bill whispers into his ear. “Yeah.”
“No, not that guy!” Mikey argues. “Guys don’t fuck me.”
“I beg to differ.” Bill replies, smirking.
“Well, there was that one time…” he admits. “But that was different! I’m not like. That.” Bill palms his cock twice, exactly how Mikey likes it, and he moans loudly.
“Yes you are.” Bill tells him. “You are like this. Whether you like it or not.”
“Nu-uuuhnnn~” His objection becomes another moan as the taller man continues to fondle him.
“You know this is what you’re like.” Bill says, right into his ear. “You want me to have my way with you. You want me to lick you, and bite you. You want me to control you, to fuck you, fuck you until you’re screaming.” He bites Mikey’s ear-lobe.
“But I’m not…”
“You want me to shove my cock into you, over and over, until you can’t take it any more.”
Now Mikey knew that wasn’t correct. At all. But somehow, he heard himself say, “Yeah, you got me,” and then he hears Bill say, “Oh, I haven’t even started to get you yet.”
“Better get started then.” A voice from the door says. Mikey turns groggily and sees Pete standing in the doorway. While he’s looking over there, trying to remember exactly where he is, Bill opens his shirt and strips him of his pants and boxers.
“Oh, hi Pete.” Mikey says cheerfully. And then something ridiculously cold is touching the bottom of his feet, and he startles.
“Holy fuck that’s cold!” He shouts. Pete saunters over and attaches leather cuffs to his ankles, attaching them to chains which are attached to the bed.
“Hey, no!” He says. Suddenly, he’s feeling a lot more sober. “You can’t just tie me to the bed like this! Not you!” The something cold is still on his foot, and ohmygod is it ever cold, it’s almost burning. He cranes his neck to look up. Again, memories of a similar past night flash into his mind. A memory of tattooed flesh and unbearable pleasure. His cock twitches at the thought, and he blushes.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” He exclaims, starting to get panicked. Somehow, the coldness massaging his foot is way more sensual than it should be, and even though he knows he shouldn’t be enjoying this, whatever this is, he is enjoying it. Possibly even more so because of Pete’s sinister eyes watching him, his detached smirk.
“I believe William already explained the basics.” Pete says. Mikey remembers what his just agreed to, and pales. The cold, probably ice, is suddenly replaced by a hot mouth, and he just barely suppresses a groan at the sudden heat and softness. He’s still enjoying this too much. He’s half hard still, and it’s ridiculous, because Pete is still watching him, and it’s fucking creepy, but something about the idea of this beautiful person taking him, fucking him, while Pete watches, eyes cold and unfeeling, except for the one spark of who-knows-what, something like lust or pride, but so much more sinister…
Bill is sucking on his toes now, and fuck if it wasn’t the most erotic thing he’d ever experienced. But still. They’re guys. And Mikey is still pretty sure he prefers the pussy.
“Pete, no.” He says, and it’s supposed to be forceful somehow, but instead, it’s a whimper, and suddenly, Mikey is feeling pathetic and weak, and more than anything else, scared.
Pete grins. “I’m only watching, Mikey.” His voice is too soft, and it’s majorly creepy. “If you want anything, you’ll have to ask Bill.” Bill is kissing and licking his way up Mikey’s calf now. And he’s scared shitless. He does not want this. He does not want to get fucked by William Beckett. He does not want Pete watching him with his cold, creepy eyes. But no matter how much his mind does not, does not, want it, his body is something entirely different. His body, he has to control very carefully so it doesn’t start writhing and twisting in weird lustful ways that Mikey has never even considered before. Every time Beckett’s mouth moves, he has to suppress a moan or some other, even more embarrassing sound.
He’s not feeling the thick fog of alcohol so much any more. But he knows it’s still there. Because if it wasn’t, there’s no way he’d have to restrain himself this much. There’s no way he wouldn’t just tell them, firmly, no thanks, I’m not so into gay sex. Find someone else. As if to prove to himself the who-knows-how-much alcohol he’d drank hadn’t had such a huge effect, he opened his mouth to say just that.
But by the time he’d thought all of it through and found his words and figured out how to get them in order, Bill was as his inner thigh, just above his knee. So when he opened his mouth to tell them to let him go and find someone else, Bill suddenly bit his thigh. And what came out of his mouth was not a firm but reasonable request at all. It was more of a yelp, followed by an incoherent string of pleas.
As if on a cue, Pete stepped forwards, and drew from a nightstand drawer a bandana, possibly the very one Bill had been wearing when he’d first met the skinny guy. He folded it into a strip of cloth and stepped towards Mikey, putting it over his eyes, and tying it tightly. It was around then that Mikey figured out that he was trapped. No polite request would save him.
He was about to get fucked my William Beckett. And there was not a thing he could do about it.