"Don't Open That Door," Foo Fighters RPS, Dave/Taylor, Taylor/Chris, Kurt/Dave, Rated Adult17+

[sailorhathor]

Fandom: Foo Fighters RPS
Rating: Adult17+
Word Count: 44,430 so far, 13 of ? chapters completed
Chapters in this Post: 4-6
Category: Slash, Horror
Pairings: Dave Grohl/Taylor Hawkins, Taylor Hawkins/Chris Shiflett, Kurt Cobain/Dave Grohl, Surprise Pairing
Summary: After several scary encounters in his home, Dave is convinced the ghost from his Seattle house followed him to his current one. He enlists the help of Taylor and a Ouija board to try to get to the bottom of things, but it only results in one of them being possessed by the thing in the house. The very dangerous thing in the house.
Warnings: Some of the sex scenes have dubious consent issues because one of the persons involved is possessed by a ghost and not fully in control of himself at the time. At least two sex acts are non-con or attempted non-con. Everyone is married to their real life spouse in a semi-open marriage (this will be discussed in the story). Language (lotsa F-bombs; this is Dave and Taylor we're talking about). Horror elements.
Author's Notes: Will be noted as we go along.
Disclaimer: This story is fictional, which means that while the characters may be loosely based on the public personas of real people, the story itself is completely ungrounded from reality and is in no way meant to reflect the private lives, actual practices, or activities of any persons named. (Modified from the disclaimer at Rockfic.com.)



Chapter 4: Erase/Replace

Words: 3,881

"You're not Taylor, are you?"

The stranger rolled his eyes and giggled. "Duh." He shook his head as if wondering how it took Dave so long to figure it out.

"Motherfucking..." Don't panic, don't panic, don't panic. "You're the ghost. The ghost that was in that statue. I didn't get there in time. You possessed Taylor and you've been in there since..." Things began to fall into place. Horrific, frightening place. "That's what felt off about him. Not even his face looked right, because they were your eyes, not Taylor's."

Placing a finger on his nose, he pointed at Dave said, "Ding, ding, ding, ding, we have a winner."

Now Dave was getting angry. "You're not Taylor, you're Nicky."

Nicky nodded with his stolen body.

"You got me the wine out of the fridge. And... you drugged it, didn't you? I don't know what you put in it, but I passed out too fast. You... you drugged me."

Slow clapping sarcastically, Nicky confessed, "You figured that part out a lot sooner than I thought you would. Yes, I put Morphecil in it. You had some in the medicine cabinet. Score!" Nicky clapped his hands together loudly, making Dave jump. "Strong sleep aid and tranquilizer. Alcohol intensifies the effect. Administer the right dose and it knocks the patient out for several hours."

"Patient?"

Nicky nodded again. "I was a nurse. You know, before..." He ran a finger across his neck.

"Why would you do that?" Dave asked, sounding hurt. This man, whoever he was, had already used Taylor's body to do several fucked up things. Dave could hardly bear the thought.

Repeating himself, Nicky said, "Duh. It's not like you're going to accept me stealing your friend's body." He rubbed Taylor's chest provocatively. "Not at first."

"I would NEVER accept that," Dave said, nearly spitting. "You get the fuck out and go back to Hell where you came from."

Laughing, Nicky leaned in, almost as close as he'd been when they kissed. "Make me."

Dave couldn't do anything but sit there and seethe. As an afterthought, he yanked hard on the handcuffs, making the chain rattle sharply.

Nicky chuckled darkly. "You're sexy when you're angry." He made a show of stretching Taylor's body, letting the pajama top fall off one shoulder and then the other, shifting it around so it still hung loosely from his shoulders. "It's weird. When I was alive, you were so young, and now... if I did my math right, you're nearly fifty! Is that right?"

Dave didn't speak, just gave a curt nod.

"Hmm. You look really different, but still the same." Nicky shook his head. "I can't believe it's early 2017. I was trapped in that mannequin for a long time."

Looking at the statue, Dave could see that its eyes were still black. "If you're in there, then where is Taylor?"

"He's in here, but I put him to sleep."

The reply horrified Dave. Put him to sleep? "How'd you do that? Slip him some Morphecil?"

Nicky just snickered.

Either way, this gave him some hope. Taylor was still in there. If he could be put to sleep, then maybe Dave could wake him up. "What do you think you're going to accomplish here? Do you really think I'm going to let you keep my best friend's body?"

"Is that who he is to you? Besides someone you want to make love to."

Dave winced, closing his eyes for a moment.

Nicky continued. "You could have that, you know. This is Taylor's body." He unfastened a couple of the buttons on the pajama top and put his hand in, stroking his stomach and chest. "You want to touch this body, don't you?"

Trying not to watch, Dave lashed out at the ghost inside his friend. "Shut the fuck up, Nicky."

This made him smile. "You do. And soon, you'll beg me to make love to this body. I'll make you want it. Maybe you might want to make love to me too."

"Don't hold your fucking breath."

"Now you're starting to hurt my feelings. I wouldn't do too much of that." He sat up a little straighter. "Tell me this. You and this guy have plane tickets to Hawaii on Wednesday. Why are you going there?"

So the little fucker had been going through their packed suitcases. Dave wanted to drag this asshole out of Taylor's body and punch him in the face, if a ghost could be punched. "I'm not talking to you."

"Really?" Nicky reached into the back of the pajama pants and brought out a gun. Dave recognized it. It was the handgun he'd bought for Jordyn to use for protection when he was away on tour. The fucker really had been going through their stuff. Nicky surprised him by putting the gun to Taylor's chin. "You cooperate and answer my questions or I'll blow Taylor's head off."

Gasping, Dave babbled, "No, no, DON'T!"

"And don't think I won't do it. I can always find another body to possess."

"God, no, please!" Dave almost began to cry.

"Are you going to answer my questions? Will you behave?"

"Yes, anything!"

"Okay." Nicky lowered the gun. "Now, Hawaii."

"Our families are already there. We stayed here to deal with you and are supposed to join them there for vacation on Wednesday. It's the kids' Spring Break," Dave explained quickly. "Now will you please put that gun away?"

Nicky put the gun back in his waistband. "Alright then. That gives me three days to figure this whole thing out. Three days before anybody misses you." He sat back, thinking.

Looking him over, Dave scowled and said, "I guess this is all really gooch for you, huh?"

"Really what?"

"Wow, you are so not Taylor. Really gooch, really great. You get to live again in a whole new body. All you have to do is steal it."

"Yeah, I lucked out, didn't I? I mean, this guy is Dave Grohl's best friend. And Taylor's loaded! And talented, and kinda handsome. I could've done worse." He touched Dave's chest. "I've searched Taylor's mind a bit since I've been in here. I don't know everything yet, but I'm pretty sure he has feelings for you too. You already knew something about his bisexual tendencies, right?"

Eyes softening with hurt, Dave nodded, not meeting Nicky's gaze.

"I thought so. He could really love you, you know." Nicky traced the tattoo on the left side of Dave's chest, the black tribal design, with his finger. "I already love you, Dave Grohl. We could work something out, the three of us."

The idea made Dave's skin crawl. This nut thought he could stay in Taylor's body and they could all live together in harmony? Dave had to learn who he was dealing with, so he could figure out how to get rid of him. "Who are you, Nicky? You said during the séance that I might recognize your name."

Looking down, Nicky seemed embarrassed and reluctant to explain. "I don't think you're ready for that yet. But I will give you some hints." He thought about what he wanted to say before speaking again. "My trial on Court TV was the sensation of 1993. You might've watched some of it. People looked at my demeanor in court and thought I didn't care about anything, but there were definite things I cared about. The way the media treated my family, for one thing. I heard about it every day from my dad. About how my mother couldn't sleep and my grandmother with Alzheimer's was terrified of all the strangers who kept milling around outside the house. People wouldn't leave them alone. They chased my brother and sister through parking lots when they tried to shop... she had to leave school... people said the most unkind things to them, as if they had done something. My grandmother died in fear. The press and idiot strangers killed her with the stress they caused her. Yes, I have a lot of feelings about that."

"I guess you shouldn't have committed your big sensational crime, then," Dave said. It might be an ill-advised comment to make, but he couldn't help but make it.

Nicky started to get angry. "Oh, so you think people were totally justified in harassing my family?"

Dave shook his head. "I never said that."

"And you better not, if you know what's good for you."

Dave didn't like having to take threats like that and not be able to shoot back a sarcastic barb, but the real person Nicky was threatening was Taylor. Taylor, who would be shot in the head if Dave ran his mouth too much. "I'm sorry people were so cruel to your family."

"Oh right, you don't care." Nicky looked down, digging at a scab on Taylor's finger. He pouted like a small child.

"No, I really do care. It sounds awful. They didn't deserve to be mistreated just because they were related to you."

Considering this for a moment, Nicky finally leaned forward and hugged Dave around the chest, laying his head over the other man's heart. "Thank you for saying that. You're such a good person."

The idea of this man hugging him like that turned his stomach. Dave had to pretend it was Taylor to keep from screaming for him to let go. A sensational trial? Court TV? Throngs of people and press hanging out on the lawn? Who the hell was this guy? What had he done?

And he's possessing Taylor oh God get him out get him out get him out!

Nicky did not sit up, just kept talking into Dave's chest. "I was murdered in prison two years after Kurt killed himself."

Did this asshole measure his entire life by Nirvana?

"Before I died, I got to watch you rise like a phoenix from the ashes of Nirvana and start your career all over again. It was glorious. You were beautiful. And I wanted you." He sat up. "I've been in love with you a lot longer than that, but if a person could fall in love twice, that was my moment. My special moment with you."

Holy crap... "I'm glad I could inspire you."

Nicky looked at him, admiring him, a lovesick look in his eyes.

"So, you were giving me hints?"

Nicky tried to think of more references so Dave would have to give it some thought. He liked the idea of Dave putting a lot of thought into him. "During my trial, a man became very angry and started yelling at me. It made the national news." He positioned his hands as if he was holding onto an invisible podium. "Goddamn you, you bastard! Goddamn you! What you did to my son!"

Dave winced at how loudly he was yelling, but also at the intensity in his voice, the emotion. Something about this sounded familiar.

Nicky continued, "If I could get a hold of you right now, I would rip off your head and shit down your neck, you piece of shit! No, no, don't stop me! Don't hold me back! He deserves to die!" The veins stood out in his neck and his hands had begun to shake.

"Nicky!" Dave cried. "Calm down, okay? I get it." He watched the guy shake, breathing hard, and hoped he wouldn't lose anymore control of himself. "Did this moment upset you?"

Panting, Nicky took a minute to compose himself. "It was a moment of clarity. You don't often have to face people you've hurt like that."

"What did you do to his son?"

Looking down, Nicky shook his head. "I'm not sure I want you to know now. Maybe it's better if you don't. If you figure it out for yourself, then..." He tried to smile. "We'll cross that bridge when we come to it. I don't want to talk about that anymore."

Either way, Dave wanted this ghost out of his friend's body, but he still needed to know what Nicky had done. Could this be as bad as it seemed? Had Nicky murdered someone? Was a murderer possessing his friend? "What do you want to talk about?"

"You," Nicky purred. "I took a little time while you were out to look at what you've done since my death. You've had a long, successful career. In fact, I would say you're pretty amazing. There wasn't time to listen to everything, but what I did hear was so good."

"Thank you." Dave remembered Kurt once saying that he didn't want certain types of people to be fans of his music; he knew exactly how Kurt felt now. "The guy whose body you're trying to steal helped make most of those albums really great."

"He's your drummer, right? And he can sing." Nicky touched Dave's chest again, stroking lightly. Dave looked down at his hand with steely eyes. "Please don't be like that about it. We can all learn to live together."

His head swimming with objections, Dave tried to remember that he was dealing with not only a nutjob, but a dead nutjob. "Nicky... come on..."

He closed his eyes and shook his head. "No, you take some time to think about it. Okay? Just think about it." His demeanor became playful again, hand passing over Dave's right nipple. "I would've never figured you for being so into tattoos. And being such a big fan of bands like Led Zeppelin and Rush. You're practically a closet metalhead," Nicky laughed.

Dave shrugged, eyeing the hand on his chest. "I've been out of that closet for a long time."

"But not the one in which you fantasize about your drummer. Right? Tell me what you want to do to him. If you had the chance, what would you do?"

Now Dave was shaking his head. "No. I don't want to talk about that stuff with you."

"But you have that chance now. I'll let you do whatever you want."

"No!" Dave cried. "Taylor can't consent. It would be rape."

Looking on him with lovesick admiration, eyes soft and vulnerable, Nicky said again, "You are such a good person."

Those eyes. Whenever Taylor gave him a look like that, Dave wanted to give him whatever he wanted.

Nicky leaned forward and kissed Dave's cheek, then moved to kiss his mouth. Reluctant, Dave accepted the kiss, but only a little, pulling back when Nicky tried to make it a deeper one. When he sat up straighter, Dave could see that his eyes were brown.

His heart skipped a beat. "Taylor?!"

He leaned in and kissed Dave again, and this time it felt different. Softer, not as aggressive, as if the person kissing him was unsure if Dave wanted to kiss him. Dave melted into the kiss. It came from Taylor. Somehow, it came from Taylor! Taylor ran his hands down Dave's sides, caressing him, and for a moment, they shared a passionate kiss, with no one else there.

When Taylor sat back, Dave quickly said, "Taylor, are you awake? You have to uncuff me! Quick, before..." He trailed off as his heart sank. The other man's eyes were blue again. "What... what just happened?"

"I wanted to show you how I can let Taylor out for a short time without losing control. He doesn't really know what's happening. He thinks it's a dream, a fantasy. As you can see, this is something Taylor really wants with you."

Nicky's explanation should have made him at least a little happy, but all Dave could think about was Taylor, shackled up in his own mind, living a nightmare he wasn't even aware of. This monster was stealing not only Taylor's body, but intimate moments he and Taylor should have shared alone. This was a thing they could have talked out with their wives, had basically already discussed with them, but this? This they could never get back. "It's not the same. It's not the same and you know it."

Nicky began to rub lightly around Taylor's cock through the pajama pants, already moaning softly. Dave gasped, watching as his eyes continuously and rapidly changed from blue to hazel brown, hazel brown to blue. Like Taylor was also there, masturbating willingly for him. Taylor, Nicky, whoever stroked at himself with more vigour, throwing his head back and moaning, "Dave."

His mouth open, feeling helpless, Dave said, "Don't. Don't, please." Still, he couldn't take his eyes off the hand easing Taylor's cock out of the pajama pants, caressing his balls and stroking his shaft until he began to become hard. Dave whimpered, feeling his dick react to the sights and sounds of Taylor touching himself, the moans and heavy breaths. "God, please stop."

"You don't want me to stop, not really, Dave. Do you?" Taylor/Nicky stroked himself harder, faster. "Do you want to see me cum?"

"Oh fuck yes," Dave breathed. He couldn't help but get aroused by this show. It was Taylor's face flushed with excitement, Taylor's cock, Taylor's hand, Taylor's voice...

"Do you want to get off with me?"

Squirming on the chaise lounge, Dave moaned, "Uh huh." How quickly this had escalated. Just the thought that Taylor might want him...

Taylor/Nicky grinned and pulled Dave's boxer shorts down. He found Dave more than halfway there and started to stroke him fast and with aggression, hoping they could cum together.

"Uhhh!" Dave cried out at that first touch.

They writhed in place, two backs arched, two hands pumping in time, two mouths moaning each other's names. "Oh Taylor, Taylor, mmm..."

"Dave... I love you."

"I love you too, Tee."

Taylor's whole face frowned in hurt, but it was not Taylor who felt that way. He kept both hands going 'til Dave let out a breathy howl and came on his own chest, dotting his tattoos with pearls. Taylor and Nicky came a few seconds later, spraying Dave's side and the chaise with white ropes. They didn't move much for roughly a minute, trying to catch their breath.

His eyes fully blue, Nicky leaned over and licked most of the cum off Dave's chest, lapping it up in broad strokes of his tongue. Then he grabbed either side of Dave's head and forced him into a kiss. Dave wasn't sure who he was kissing, so he kissed back, even accepting the other man's tongue in his mouth. They could both taste the evidence of what they had just done in Nicky's borrowed mouth.

He broke the kiss; they were both still panting a bit. "One day, you will cry out for me instead," Nicky declared. He fixed his pants and then Dave's underwear, covering them both up before pulling out the gun. "You remember I have this." With that, Nicky hurried up the stairs.

Dave watched the white and blonde blur retreat back to the world outside this room. "Wait! We need to talk! ..... Come back!"

He waited, but Nicky did not come back. After a short time, Dave fell asleep. A troubled sleep.

In the dream, this time, he could see.

Dave was starting to realize that these dreams felt different. Like when he saw into Taylor's mindscape, he was really there. There was a strong, real connection between their psyches. How this happened, he didn't know, but he could really reach Taylor here if he could figure out how.

He found Taylor asleep in a large bed with snow white sheets. Taylor slept with no shirt on, blonde hair spread out over the pillows; he looked like an angel. Dave leaned over and kissed him on the forehead. Taylor let out a small groan. "Dave," he said, tossing fitfully in the bed.

"He knows you're in danger," a familiar voice said from nearby.

Dave looked behind him. It was Kurt.

"Kurt..." Dave rushed to him and hugged Kurt to him. Kurt hugged him back. Then they just looked at each other before anyone spoke again. "I haven't dreamed of you in a long time."

"I couldn't let you deal with this alone. You don't know what death is like." Kurt looked behind him to a couch before a television, one of the old tube TVs that predated flat screens. Courtney sat on the couch next to the spot that Kurt would usually occupy, and on the floor Dave saw his younger self, sitting and leaning against the couch, smoking a cigarette. In fact, in the ashtray was three cigarettes; they were all smoking.

"Do you remember this?" Kurt asked. "You need to."

"We were watching something on TV?"

"Yeah. Come see." Kurt vaulted himself over the back of the couch, landing in his spot and picking up his cigarette, taking a drag.

"What a fucking psycho," Courtney remarked, looking at the TV.

Dave moved toward the couch, but stopped at the sight of two young boys sitting behind it. They were hunched over some Hot Wheels cars and something else, something that wriggled in pain, flailing its six legs. It was a beetle, and one of the boys had impaled it with a stick.

"Aw, let it go, Nicky. You're hurting it," one boy said to the other.

"That's the point," Nicky said with a snicker. Then he leaned back, an apprehensive look on his face. "You won't tell my dad, will you?"

There were at least three minds linked here. Taylor's, Dave's, and the ghost's. Dave could see Nicky's memories as well as his own.

A voice stole his attention from the two boys. Dave heard his younger self say, "Can you believe how he's just sitting there like he can't even hear all these people ragging on him?"

"He's a fucking psycho," Courtney repeated.

Shaking his head, Kurt said, "I usually like gay people, but for this asshole, I'll make an exception."

Older Dave covered his mouth. He remembered this now. No, no, no, it couldn't be. He had been watching a trial on Court TV with Kurt and Courtney. The families of the criminal's victims were reading statements to him as he sat there, showing little emotion. Statements of how he had impacted their lives.

Kurt looked back at older Dave. "You gotta figure out how to wake that guy up," he said, gesturing with his head toward Taylor sleeping in the bed. "Otherwise..." Kurt ran a finger over his neck, making a cutting noise.

On the television, the father of one of the victims held onto the podium with a death grip. "BLEEP you, you bastard! BLEEP you! What you did to my son! If I could get a hold of you right now, I would rip off your head and BLEEP down your neck, you piece of BLEEP!" He started to charge at the man who had murdered his son; the bailiffs held him back. "No, no, don't stop me! Don't hold me back! He deserves to die!"

Dave woke up with a start. The family cat Oogly had been sleeping, curled up, on his chest; now the pretty calico meowed, startled, and ran from the room. Dave couldn't move for a minute, just laid there panting as he tried to keep control of his rising, blind panic.

He knew who was possessing Taylor. It was far, far worse than he could have imagined.

The ghost inside his best friend was Austin Nicholas Kelly.

The serial killer.

Author's Notes: I'm recycling my own title here; I originally used this title for a piece of fanart for a "Supernatural" reverse big bang. In that case, the door was literal. This time, it's symbolic. I just really like the title. :D It has a certain amount of action and command to it.

The spelling "Baub" has a story behind it. I met actress Brooke Theiss at Texas Frightmare Weekend. That year, they had started having you write your name on a Post-It so the celebs would be sure to spell your name right on your autograph. Brooke was very friendly and talkative, so I said to her that I thought it was a great idea that they were having us write our names on the sticky notes, especially since I have a name like Laurel, which people often misspell. She said she hates to misspell fans' names so much that she will even ask them how they spell "Bob." I replied, "Excuse me, my name is not spelled B-O-B, I spell it B-A-U-B." The guy behind me thought it was pretty funny. ;) At that moment, I vowed I would have a pretentious character in a story who insisted on spelling his name that way because it's just too funny. I honestly think spelling it Baub is halfway between cool and insufferable. :D

If you watch any interviews and live footage of Dave and Taylor, you may notice that they sometimes call each other by the nicknames D and T, the initials of their names. Awww! ^_^ I used that in this story, but I spell them out as Dee and Tee because I think it looks better, especially in dialogue.

Austin Nicholas Kelly does not really exist. I made him up. He's not named after anyone I know in real life; I was playing off the idea that serial killers seem to often be called by all three names and it sounds best to my ear if the middle name has three syllables. I also wanted a middle name that could be shortened into a cutesy nickname. That's how I chose Nicholas/Nicky.

Many things about Nicky were inspired by real life serial killer Jeffrey Dahmer. Originally, it was going to actually be Dahmer possessing Taylor in this story, but I decided that would be waaaay too much.

The phrase "Soothing, black, and warm" comes from one of my favorite shows of all time, "Degrassi High." A pretentious character named Claude (pronounced Clode *eye roll*) has been writing suicidal poems about death which contain this phrase. There was something about the phrase that I found funny and interesting at the same time, and I love to include references to things I love in my stories, so I'm going to fit the phrase in wherever I can. :D

Also made up Morphecil. When you need a drug to affect a character a certain way, sometimes it's just easier to create one.

Oogly is the name of a cat seen on the reality show "Ghost Brothers." Oogly, awwwww! So cute! I had to use it.

The chapter titles will all be titles of Foo songs and songs by Taylor Hawkins and the Coattail Riders.

All title/chapter cards made at Picjoke.com, because my laptop is dead and this is the best I can do on a tablet.



Chapter 5: How I Miss You

Word Count: 2,922

The mantra that repeated itself over and over in Dave's head, don't panic, don't panic, don't panic, simply wasn't working. Taylor was possessed by the ghost of a serial killer. A very disturbed serial killer (Was there any other kind?) who had walked out of the house in the middle of the night and bought supplies to hold Dave captive. Where else had the handcuffs come from? What other stuff had he purchased with Taylor's money?

Did he encounter anyone while out and about, besides the sales clerks? Had Nicky... did he already feel the itch to... to kill again? What if... and who would be blamed for that?

Dave couldn't help it; he panicked. He began to pull at the handcuffs as hard as he could until he was panting with the effort. No matter how hard he tried, Dave could not slip his hands out or get the chain to break. The metal bar in the chaise lounge's framework wouldn't even begin to bend or budge. Something popped in one of Dave's wrists and it hurt too much to continue. His wrists were already aching and rubbed raw anyway, so he finally gave up with an angry cry, struggling and kicking his legs in frustration.

"Goddamn motherfucking bastard damn you to hell suck my motherfucking cock you limpdick asshole! Grrrrrraaaaaarrrrgh!" Dave yanked at the handcuffs and flailed on the chaise angrily, screaming, until he collapsed in tears, sobbing bitterly for the situation he was in. And for Taylor. He wanted Taylor back... especially before Nicky used his body to hurt someone.

Oogly came back, walking up Dave's chest and rubbing her face against his chin, then licking at his tears, purring. Dave, sniffling, had to laugh. "Hey Oogly. What's that, girl? Timmy's trapped in the well?" The cat continued to rub against Dave's beard with content, rumbling purrs. Dave suddenly remembered the dream, and the two kids with the impaled beetle. "Hey Oogly, if Taylor does anything weird, like try to hurt you, I want you to run and hide, okay? He's not himself right now." He wished he could pet the cat and scratch her behind the ears, but a very strong pair of handcuffs kept him from doing so.

Spent and tired, Dave laid his head back and he and Oogly fell asleep together. He encountered the snow white bed again with Taylor out cold in the middle, nothing else there but a field of white light. Oogly jumped up on the bed just as Dave sat down on the edge and padded up to him. "Meow!"

Now he could pet her properly. Dave took a little time to do that, looking at Taylor with a sigh. "How do I wake you up? Taylor? Are you Sleeping Studly?" Leaning over, he kissed Taylor softly on the lips.

Nothing. Taylor inhaled sharply, but he did not wake up. The deep breath seemed to be more of a reaction to a nightmare he was having than the kiss, as he tossed in the bed right after. "Uh, no... don't..."

"Didn't like the kiss, huh? I can do better."

Taylor rolled back the other way and whimpered. "Leave him alone... stop it..." His breathing became more erratic.

"Taylor, I think you're having a nightmare. Wake up. Wake up, please!" Dave took him by the shoulders and shook him. "If you don't wake up, I'm either going to wind up the sex slave of an insane killer or dead, and he's going to use your body to do it! Please, Taylor, what do I have to do?"

Taylor gasped as he was shaken, but he remained limp and unresponsive. Although he hated to do it, Dave backhanded him across the face. In reaction, Taylor grunted, but still did not wake up.

Dave's face crumpled into tears again. He held Taylor close to his chest, stroking his hair and sobbing in fear and frustration. "I'm sorry I had to hit you, I'm sorry, I'm sorry." Kissing the younger man's face a few times, Dave tried to think of a way out of this. "If I can just get Nicky to uncuff me and subdue him, I can get some help and we can exorcise that bastard from your body. Then I'll have my Taylor back. Right?" He sniffled. "If I can get the gun away from - "

Somewhere nearby, there was a screechy little giggle. Dave looked around. No one else there. "Hello?"

Taylor almost whispered, "No, please, I don't want to see that. Don't, don't..." He winced in his sleep. Dave stroked his hair.

Oogly suddenly hissed and arched her back. Dave followed her line of sight to the bright red handprint on the corner of the bed, the handprint he knew hadn't been there before. A strange four-fingered handprint with claws.

There was another giggle.

His breathing quickening, Dave laid Taylor back down and slowly stood up next to the bed, looking all around. He wished Kurt was there. Someone to talk to. Not only was there serious danger in the waking world, but in the mindscape too.

"Kurt? I need your help." Dave crept away from the bed. He looked at that handprint again. Was that blood? "Kurt, please, I'm scared."

"You still want it, don't you? The heroin? It feels good."

Dave whirled around. Some sort of creature had snuck in behind him and was speaking quietly in Taylor's ear. "What would it hurt if you just had a little bit?"

Oogly hissed at the thing. It hissed back and giggled, snickery.

Dave would have described it as some sort of hairy monster. It was short, barrel-chested, and covered with black hair, small horns sticking out of its temples, with feet like a goat. Its hands were just like the handprint, with four fingers and black claws. It turned to look at Dave with yellow eyes and massive buck teeth coming out of its snickering mouth. "Don't you want to escape this nightmare, Taylor?"

"What the fuck? Get away from him!" Dave kicked it in the shin.

"Owww! Oh!" The creature moved away, circling him. "That wasn't very nice. You need everyone to like you. How will you get me to like you now?" It giggled.

"Get the fuck out of here!" When Dave ran at it, the thing retreated, scurrying away.

"Maybe a beer with breakfast would taste good, yes?" it called as it ran off, passing Kurt on its way.

"Kurt!" Confused and heartsick, Dave hurried to Kurt's side. He seemed to have some sort of link to those with greater knowledge of the afterlife and what Dave was dealing with here; maybe he could help sort some things out. "I'm so glad you came back."

"Huh?" Kurt turned from the scene he'd been watching, a couple fingers to his lips. His expression was troubled. "Oh, yeah. Hey."

Dave noticed what Kurt was looking at all at once. A scene from Dave's memories had been inserted in the middle of this field of white; the edges blended into the light like an unfinished painting barely reaching the edge of a canvas. Center stage was Taylor, younger Taylor, with shorter hair, unconscious in a hospital bed. An IV and various types of monitors were hooked up to his body.

It was the overdose. Taylor's coma, when he overdosed on heroin in 2001. Almost two weeks of hell, keeping a bedside vigil, until Taylor woke up. Dave gaped at the scene. How did this work, that Kurt could access such a thing as his memories? "Kurt... what are you doing?"

Kurt looked over at him and broke out in an embarrassed grin. "I'm sorry, Dave. I... I shouldn't be snooping. It's just that there are greater powers than you and me at work here, trying to help me help you get out of this alive. They suggested that I could try to distract Nicholas Kelly in the mindscape with some of your memories. I know you don't want that guy rooting around in your mind, but it could occupy him long enough for us to get the jump on him. I was looking for some good shit to show him and I kinda... stumbled on some painful memories. I'm sorry, I shouldn't be watching this. I'm an asshole." Scratching his head, Kurt looked away, growing sheepish.

Dave looked, watching the nurse checking vitals and writing things on a clipboard full of papers. "It's okay," he said. "You can look."

Kurt did. He sighed. "I had no idea. Taylor had a problem with heroin too?"

Nodding, Dave wondered if he had ever heard Kurt refer to his own habit as a "problem" before now. "He's been clean ever since this happened."

Kurt nodded too, and they watched the scene in silence for a short time. Dave remembered the hairy creature and what it had said. "Kurt, what the hell was that ugly thing that just ran by here?"

"Imp."

"Huh?"

"It's an imp. A type of demon, very low on the totem pole."

"Demons are real?!"

"Shit yeah." Glancing at Dave, Kurt flashed him a little smile. "They try to bring out our most self-destructive urges and weaknesses. Everybody's got at least one working on 'em." He suddenly became more serious. "Kelly had a bunch. Really big ones, badder demons, talking in his ear. All serial killers do."

Dave shivered. "Why?"

"Demons feed on pain. They want as much destruction as possible. Most of them, anyway." Kurt looked to one side with his cobalt blue eyes, thinking. Then he looked back at Dave with a determined seriousness. "You have to be careful. Those demons are here in the mindscape. Kelly's demons."

Wincing, Dave groaned, "Oh God. Those things are here, with Taylor out cold?"

Kurt, biting his bottom lip, made a promise that got Dave to relax a bit with relief. "I won't let them hurt Taylor. I'll keep them away as long as I can."

"You will? But, will you be okay?"

"They can't hurt me," Kurt laughed. He didn't explain any more.

"That's good to hear." Dave, full of questions, started to say, "Kurt, how does the 'mindscape' work? Why are we all linked together - "

But he was interrupted by the entrance of himself, his younger self, also with much shorter hair, to the hospital room. "Good morning," he said to the nurse.

"Good morning," she replied, speaking with a British accent.

Young Dave surveyed the scene before him. "Where's the ventilator?"

"We started breathing on our own last night," she said, patting Taylor's shoulder.

A grateful, almost happy smile came to Dave's face. "Really? That's a good sign."

"It's a very good sign." The nurse went to leave the room, patting Dave's shoulder on her way by too. "I'll be back, love. I have more rounds to make."

"I'll be right here." Dave watched her go, then pulled up a chair and sat by Taylor's bed. "Hey Tee. Breathing on your own, huh? Good going." He nudged Taylor's chin with his fist as if to say way to go, champ.

Taylor did not respond.

Dave took Taylor's hand out from under the sheet and kissed it, then rubbed it against his cheek. "Come on, Tee. You gotta wake up so you can catch me doing this and laugh at me. I'm a big fool. I went and fell in love with you." His voice broke with threatening tears. "I knew I cared about you a great deal, but I didn't realize that... that I loved you like this until I almost lost you." He began to cry. "Please wake up and tell me I haven't lost you for good. I'm afraid this is all just false hope, that you're never going to wake up, and the doctors will say you're brain dead, and..." Dave was crying harder now, almost unable to speak. He choked out, "Oh God, I love you, Taylor," and wept against the back of Taylor's hand, holding it between his two. "Please don't die."

Visibly saddened by what he saw, Kurt swallowed hard and asked, "You've been in love with him that long?"

Older Dave, sheepish, embarrassed, just nodded, looking down.

"Why haven't you told him?"

Shrugging, he said, "He calls me his brother. I didn't think he wanted me, and I was afraid if I told him the truth, he would leave the band."

"Now how do you feel, knowing Taylor thinks of you that way too?" Kurt asked.

With a deep breath, Dave ran his hands through his hair and replied, "I want the chance for me and Taylor to talk about it and explore these feelings without some insane murderer ruining the whole thing. I want Nicholas Kelly gone."

"Then we'll figure it out, together." Kurt moved a little closer to him. "Dave, I'm sorry for everything I put you through with the heroin and all. I've had a lot of years to reflect on the pain I caused everybody, and it was really selfish of me. Can you accept my apology?"

Astonished, Dave pulled him in for a hug. "Of course, Kurt. Of course. It's so good to hear you say that."

Kurt's breath quavered, and he stroked Dave's hair. "Do you know what kind of memories I'm looking for to distract Kelly?"

Dave pulled away far enough to see Kurt's face. He opened his mouth to take an educated guess, but noticed something he hadn't seen before. Kurt had a spiked leather collar around his neck. Attached to it was a chain, a chain that trailed off into the white field of light 'til Dave couldn't see it anymore. It occasionally rattled with a musical, metallic sound as whatever was on the other end gave the chain a little tug.

Dave's face grew concerned. "Kurt, what's with the collar? Have you been hiding it from me?"

Kurt shook his head to say he wasn't going to talk about that right now. "You've got enough to worry about without thinking of me. Let's talk about it after this is all over. Okay?"

"But..."

Shaking his head again, Kurt said, "I'm okay. Just remember, try not to upset the crazy bastard. You may have to do some things you don't want to do to keep Kelly from flying off the handle. Just pretend he's Taylor, that it's only Taylor in there, when he asks for sex. I'll do what I can from in here." A little grin touched Kurt's lips. "If you want to, you could pretend he's someone else when he asks for sex."

Dave almost blushed. "You?"

With a nod, Kurt took Dave's head in his hands and pulled him in for a deep kiss, a kiss Dave hadn't felt for over twenty years.

He woke up from the dream with a small moan. Dave could still feel the feathery touch of Kurt's lips for several long, sensual moments; he didn't realize how much he had missed those intimate experiences until now. Of course, Kurt was right. If Nicky was shown some of the memories of Kurt and Dave making out, touching, pressed against the wall, hands madly groping his ass... well, he'd become just as lost in them as Dave was right now.

"Meow!"

Dave looked down at the warm, furry weight on his chest. Oogly laid on her back on his chest and stomach, front paws hovering as she twisted her head up to look at him. "Mrow?"

"Hey Oogly. Oh... you're hungry, aren't you?" Dave shook his wrist, rattling the chain of the handcuffs. "Unfortunately, I'm a bit tied up right now. Maybe we can get..." He looked up the stairs.

The door into the kitchen was open. Daylight from the kitchen windows streamed in through the doorway. Dave listened and heard sizzling, and realized he could smell bacon frying. If he hadn't found himself still shackled up, he would have thought the whole Taylor being possessed thing had all been a horrible nightmare.

But that wasn't Taylor up there cooking breakfast. Taylor was sedated.

There came the sound of the can opener. Oogly sharply raised her head and looked at the stairs.

"Kitty kitty kitty?" Nicky called.

Oogly jumped off the chaise and raced up the stairs.

"Oogly, wait!" Dave frantically whispered. But Oogly was already gone. Beginning to pant with fear, he waited to face Nicky, now knowing what he was and what he was capable of.



Chapter 6: Walking a Line

Word Count: 3,304

Shortly after, Nicky bounded down the stairs with a full plate in one hand and a lap tray in the other. "Hey, you're awake," he said, and set the tray over Dave's midsection. It barely touched his stomach, and the chaise lounge was just wide enough to accommodate its sides. Nicky put the plate of scrambled eggs, sausage, bacon, and two slices of toast on the tray. "I'll be right back," he said, and hurried back up the stairs.

Dave eyed the breakfast suspiciously. It smelled good, but it was made by the ghost of a fucking serial killer. One good thing, though - Nicky would have to uncuff him so he could eat it. Maybe he could book it up the stairs and -

Nicky came back with another plate and a TV tray. He unfolded the tray's stand with a flick of the wrist, set it up, and put the plate on the tray. The food on it was identical to Dave's plate except that Nicky's toast and eggs had grape jelly on them. "One last thing and we can eat."

Back up the stairs and then down and he had two glasses of orange juice in his hands. "I assume you'll like it since it came from your fridge." Nicky set the glasses down and pulled himself up a chair as close to the chaise as he could get. "Now... how's it look? I had to make assumptions based on what all you had..."

He realized Dave was staring at him, a little wide-eyed, body shaking lightly. His breathing was also a little quick. "You okay?"

Swallowing hard, Dave tried to find his voice. "You're Nicholas Kelly. You murdered people. I think it was twelve."

Nicky looked down at the floor for a few quiet moments. "Eleven," he said. "It was eleven." He looked back up. "But that can't happen to you. I wasn't in love with any of them. They were attractive, and I wanted to keep them, but all they wanted was to leave. Even if you could get free, you would never run, because you know you'd have to leave Taylor behind with me. And who knows where I'd be when you got back."

The look on Dave's face showed how upset he would be if this scenario ever did happen. Of course Nicky wouldn't stick around. Taylor would be recognized by some people, but not most, and that would give Nicky all the chances in the world to use Taylor's money to run and hide.

Cocking his head, Nicky said, "You look like you're going to cry." He reached out to touch Dave's face, but Dave jerked away from it, almost tipping over the tray. Surprised, Nicky pulled his hand back. "Hey... hey, you don't have to be afraid. Look, your food is getting cold." Nicky brought a forkful of eggs to Dave's mouth.

"Did you poison it?" Dave asked, voice shaking.

Blinking in disbelief, Nicky put the eggs in his own mouth and chewed them, spreading out his arms as if to say, "Are you serious?" He swallowed them down and said, "See? No poison." Then he jokingly grabbed his throat and hollered, "Gaaaak!" Nicky laughed at his own joke.

Dave did not laugh.

"Dave, come on. If I wanted to kill you, I would have done it already. I don't want to kill you." Nicky offered him another forkful of eggs.

After a short pause, Dave accepted the food and chewed it carefully. He wrinkled up his nose. "Can I have some salt on it?"

"Sure." Nicky salted the eggs, chopped them up a little finer with the fork, and mixed in the salt. Dave took another forkful. "Better?"

"Uh huh." Dave watched him feed himself some of his own eggs, which were mixed with grape jelly. His daughter's grape jelly. Dave wanted to get angry about this psycho eating his kid's food, but he couldn't afford that now. He needed to try to gain Nicky's trust. "Can I be uncuffed so I can feed myself?"

Nicky simply replied, "No," and offered him a piece of bacon.

With an angry sigh, Dave ripped off a mouthful of bacon with his teeth.

Nicky, holding up the glass of orange juice, said, "Let me know when you're thirsty."

"Did you drug it?" His tone came out bitter and sarcastic.

Nicky just grinned and shook his head. "No, I want you awake."

Why, thank you for allowing me to stay awake! That's so thoughtful of you! Dave scowled a little before accepting a bite of sausage.

Nicky furrowed his brow while staring at Dave's face. He sighed. "Did I hear you screaming and crying after I left you last night?"

After a reluctant pause, Dave admitted, "Yeah."

"Is that because you figured out who I was?"

Again, Dave said, "Yeah."

Nicky produced a wet rag from beside his plate and began to clean Dave's face with it, especially under his nose. It wasn't like Dave had been able to do it himself, what with his hands being cuffed up. At first, Dave recoiled from the touch, shuddering visibly, but soon he was able to calm himself enough to deal with Nicky acting upon him without permission. It wasn't like he had a choice, and his moustache did feel pretty gross. Still, he said, "You don't have to do that."

"I'm used to it," Nicky said with a fond grin. "Remember, I was a nurse."

How horrifying, to think of you taking care of helpless people.

"I thought about coming down here to comfort you, but I knew you wouldn't want me to do that once you realized who I am." Nicky sadly looked down at the floor. "You needed time away from me."

Dave's stomach growled. "You were right to give me some time. I'll be alright, okay?" He nodded to the food. "Let's get back to it before it gets cold. You went to all that trouble to make it."

Nicky smiled softly. It felt nice when Dave acknowledged something he did.

They continued eating like that, Nicky switching between feeding Dave and feeding himself, until they were almost done.

Oogly came up to both men then, jumping up on the chaise lounge and sniffing at a small piece of bacon on Dave's plate. "Mreow."

"Awww. Can he have some or are you against table scraps?" Nicky asked.

"She. She can have that piece."

Nicky offered the bacon to Oogly, who licked it before taking it in her mouth and laying down with it between her paws, licking and biting off smaller pieces of it to chew.

Nicky seemed delighted with the cat, giggling at the way she ate. "You should've seen her eat her canned food up in the kitchen. She puts her paw in and scoops up some food and eats it off her paw. That is so cute."

Dave nodded. "My daughters love to watch her do that." His face serious and eyes pleading, he begged, "Please don't hurt my cat."

"What?" Nicky scratched Oogly behind the ears. She purred, eyes closed. "I don't want to hurt the kitty. I had a cat. My sister took him in when I was arrested. He's dead by now. But I loved my kitty. He was a tuxedo cat, and you're a calico, yeah." Nicky rubbed Oogly's back.

Oogly leaned over and cheeked Nicky's knee with enthusiasm. Purr, purr.

"Huh, I always thought cats were good judges of people." Dave made a show of looking Nicky up and down. "I guess not."

Nicky actually frowned, like his feelings were hurt. He retorted, "Well maybe she thinks I'm Taylor."

Uh oh. Dave could not afford to piss this guy off. "I'm sorry, Nicky. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings. But you have to admit, I have reason to be wary of you. You killed people."

In response, Nicky actually shrugged. "I had my reasons."

Sure. They had tried to escape. Nicky didn't enjoy the power he had over his victims at all, of course not. It wasn't bothersome at all that he helped himself to Dave's bed, food, other belongings, and his body as well. Nicky just had boundary issues.

Dave wanted to say all of these things, but he knew it was a bad idea. Instead, he said, "I've really got to go to the bathroom. You're not going to make me use a fucking bedpan, are you?"

"No." Nicky started to clean up the dishes, making a couple trips up and down the stairs. Dave heard the dishwasher start up. When Nicky came back, he reached into the waistband of Taylor's jeans, behind his back, and pulled the gun. "Now this is how this is going to go."



Dave thought about all the instructions he'd been given while sitting on the toilet. Occasionally, he stretched his shoulders again. It felt so good to be able to move his arms. Looking down at his red, sore wrists, he recalled every word Nicky had said.

"I'm going to uncuff you. At all times that you are free, you're going to stay far enough away that I feel you can't try to overpower me. If you come at me, I will shoot Taylor in the face. Don't think you can get to me before I do it; I'll be watching your every move. Don't even risk it. If you run out the door or try to signal someone for help, I will either leave and hide myself away from you or just shoot Taylor in the head. It's your choice.

"If I ask you for your wrist, you will present it for recuffing, no arguments. I'm going to let you take a shower too. Would you like that?"

Dave had nodded, grateful for the chance to get off the damn chaise. Now here he sat, his warden deigning to allow him to take a crap and a shower... a lovely, hot shower. It would probably feel good, so good on his sore shoulders. He could hardly wait.

Nicky sat on the floor by the bathroom door, spinning the gun on his finger by the trigger guard. When Dave flushed the toilet and stood up, he was back on alert, holding it to Taylor's chin.

What he didn't know is that Dave had decided to take a cue from Kurt and distract this asshole wherever he could, in hopes that it would cause Nicky to let his guard down. What better way to do it than by seducing him. Instead of pulling up his boxer shorts, Dave simply stepped out of them, standing before the other man naked.

Nicky practically drooled. Swallowing hard, he said, "Turn around. Show me it all."

Dave did, looking back over his shoulder and grinning.

"Now, turn back around and close the toilet so you can sit on it. I want you to play with yourself a bit."

Instead of arguing, Dave just did it, sitting down and parting his legs, his hand going to his crotch and promptly beginning to massage his balls. Dave closed his eyes to slits and opened his mouth just a little, enough to look alluring. He put an arm behind his head, other hand moving to his cock and stroking it slowly. "Uhhh..." he moaned.

Although he lowered the gun, Nicky kept his distance, watching eagerly. He did wonder why Dave was being so obedient. After about thirty seconds of watching him get harder and harder and listening to him pant and moan, Nicky commanded him to stop. "Stop, stop, stop. Shew, you are getting me going."

Coquettish, Dave batted his eyes and said, "You're not going to leave me hanging, are you?"

"No, I will not leave you hanging. We are going to finish this game. But first, you are going to take your shower. Damn, I wish I could get in there with you. You can't be trusted with that yet, though. Maybe next time, I can find a way to truss you up so I can wash you. God, that would be hot as hell." Nicky gestured to the shower with the gun. "Get in there before I throw you to the floor and fuck you right here."

Dave, smirking, stood up and opened the shower door.

Nicky watched him step in and added, "And don't you finish yourself off in there either. I want you hard and ready when you come out."

Dave smiled to himself. Kurt, it's working.

He could see Nicky sitting in the doorway through the frosted shower door. Dave washed his hair, soaped up his body, everything he would normally do during a shower, except he also kept himself hard by occasionally stroking his cock. He knew this would lead to some form of sex, but it would only help him gain Nicky's trust. Dave didn't like the idea of spending another day with the ghost. This couldn't be helped. Maybe all of this would lead to an escape sooner than later.

When he stepped out of the shower, towelling off his hair, Nicky looked at his hard cock and breathed out a shaky breath. "Oh, Dave... I want to fuck you. I really need to chain you to your bed and fuck you real good."

In that moment, Dave realized he couldn't do it. The first time he and Taylor did that, Dave wanted it, needed it, to be just him and Taylor, alone. "I don't want to," he said, and added, "not yet. I'm not ready."

Nicky stood up. "Have you ever been fucked before?"

With a long sigh, Dave decided that he had to tell the truth. It would help gain Nicky's trust, and serve to seduce him, give him things to fantasize about and look forward to. The more Nicky focused on such distracting things, the more chances Dave had to overpower him. "Yes. It was Kurt."

Dave didn't think that Nicky's eyes could get any wider in reaction. He couldn't speak for a few seconds, mouth gaping like a dying fish. "You and Kurt, you... oh, that's the hottest thing ever. He... he fucked you... how many times?"

"Several." Looking down, pretending that this was hard to talk about, Dave sighed and said, "We did other things too." He was, honestly, a little surprised at his own candidness, how easy this was to admit, but once he got started, Dave found it a cathartic thing to confess. So few people knew. He had once told Jordyn, but Taylor... Taylor did not know.

Would he know now? Was he hearing this?

Swallowing down a lump in his throat, Nicky asked, "Did you ever fuck Kurt?"

"No," Dave replied, shaking his head. "I was submissive to him. It turned him on."

A sexually excited shudder visibly passed up Nicky's back, so hard that he moaned involuntarily. "I can't believe this is true. The whole time I was listening to Nirvana, you guys were... holy shit, Dave, please let me fuck you."

Again, he shook his head. "Please try to understand, it's too emotional for me right now. You brought up all these feelings I had buried and... I need time. Please give me time."

Holding out the handcuffs, Nicky said, "You have to let me do other things."

"Of course," Dave assured, blinking coyly, like there had never been a question.

Smiling suddenly, excited that Dave wasn't fighting him on some things, Nicky tossed him the handcuffs. "Put one wrist into the cuffs."

Dave did as he was told.

"Get those towels and bring them with you."

Dave's hunch was right, Nicky had been sleeping in the bed he shared with Jordyn, a king size with an ornate brass headboard. Nicky took him to that bed now. "Dry yourself off as much as you can."

Dave did.

"Now spread that towel on the bed, and put the other one over the pillows. You're hair is still wet. Once you've done all that, lay down on the towels and put your arms up."

Once Dave was lying down, he watched Nicky put the handcuff key on the bedside table and then lean over him to grab the cuff that had not yet been locked down on his free wrist. He made a split second decision. Dave didn't want to hurt Taylor, but he had no choice. He had to get them both out of this.

Dave's hand shot up and grabbed hold of Taylor's hair, yanking him down and slamming his head into the headboard. His skull made a loud CLANG sound, and he grunted in pain and surprise. Dave scrambled over him, going for the handcuff key. His plan was to get the cuff off so he could use the handcuffs to subdue Nicky, chaining him to the bed instead, and then he could go for help.

But Nicky wasn't even half as dazed as Dave thought he was. Nicky had dealt with how to hold a grown man captive many times, and this wasn't the first time one had tried to escape. As Dave rolled over him, he quickly turned over and grabbed Dave's hair as he had done to him, pulling him back as Dave still tried to get a hold of the handcuff key. His concern for saving Taylor would be his undoing. Nicky reached around and took hold of Dave's balls, squeezing them as hard as he could. At first, Dave still tried to fight, but after a few seconds of the pain, he crumpled, screaming angrily. Nicky didn't wait for Dave to recover or start using his hands at all; he used Dave's hair to pivot him around, swinging him down on his stomach, and pinned him down with a knee in his back.

"Fucking bastard... you motherfucker..." Dave was growling. He still panted and groaned in pain, much more dazed than Nicky had been after the strike to the head.

"Always go for the balls," Nicky taunted. He grabbed the other end of the handcuffs, wound the chain around the brass bars in the headboard, and slapped the other cuff over Dave's free wrist. Then he got up, panting, and put a hand to his head. "Fuck, that hurt!"

When Dave realized what had happened, he whimpered. He was a prisoner again, and all the trust he had been trying to build was gone. "No, no, I'm sorry, it was a spur of the moment decision, it was wrong. Please, please don't hurt Taylor."

"Taylor?" Nicky picked up the gun. He got on top of Dave's back and leaned down into his face, putting the barrel against his nose. "You should be worried about yourself."

Dave breathed hard, saying nothing at first, wondering if he had just screwed himself into a bullet in the head. "You said you loved me, you wouldn't be able to kill me."

"Hm. I guess you've got me there." Nicky put the gun on the bedside table, where Dave could see it. "But I do have to punish you for what you just did, so you will majorly think twice before you do it again." He opened the top drawer in the bedside table, like he knew exactly what was in there. Dave realized he probably did, as he'd gone through these drawers before to find the gun. Nicky pulled out a tube colored blue, with the word 'His' printed on it. "You and the missus have His and Hers lube, huh? You have a lot of fun with it? You get real kinky with it?" He licked his finger, then reached between Dave's round cheeks, massaging his puckered entrance with the wet fingertip.

Dave whimpered again. "Don't, please, don't."

Nicky hissed into Dave's ear. "Your punishment is I'm going to be Kurt."


CHAPTER 7 AND MORE