Work Text:
He was pretty, if Nigel stopped to think about it. Pale skin, not much body hair, soft muscles straining as rope pressed into flesh. But Nigel wasn't there to think, and he wasn't there to appreciate. He had a job to do, and he had to focus.
"It's honestly very simple. You saw something that you weren't supposed to see, and that leaves me with very limited options when it comes to dealing with this situation." He stretched his arms out in front of himself, fingers intertwined as he cracked his knuckles, the sound loud enough to almost echo in the cold warehouse.
He shook out his limbs, taking a few steps around his victim. The man had stopped struggling; the poor thing probably wore himself out after Darko's men had tackled him and stripped him down to his underwear. So he was just sitting still on the metal chair that Nigel had tied him to, nostrils occasionally flaring as he took deep breaths.
"So y'see, kid, I have to make sure that you don't go crying to the cops, and I'm going to be straight with you, chances are you won't be leaving this—" Nigel was interrupted by the man muffling something incomprehensible against the makeshift gag stuffed into his mouth, the fabric damp with saliva.
Nigel tilted his head. "Kid, listen—" There was that muffled protesting again, louder this time, the man wriggling slightly against his restraints. Nigel narrowed his eyes. He briefly considered removing the kid's blindfold, given that it didn't matter too much at this stage whether he saw his captor or not, but instead he reached out for the gag, roughly tugging the twisted-up shirt until it came free and pressed against the man's chin instead.
The man inhaled loudly through his mouth and then declared, "I'm twenty-nine."
Nigel blinked.
"What? I don't give a fuck—"
"I'm twenty-nine. I'm not a kid. I pay taxes," the man stated through slightly uneven breaths.
Nigel almost did a double-take. "I'm trying to tell you that you're likely to leave here in a hearse, and you think that it's appropriate to correct me? You've seen my men kill a guy—"
"I don't appreciate being spoken to like a child—"
CRACK.
The sound of Nigel's hand meeting the man's face reverberated off of concrete walls; a swift, backhanded strike across his cheek. He let out a sigh as he flexed his fingers, watching red blossom rapidly across white skin.
"I don't think that you quite understand the severity of your predicament," Nigel said as he watched the younger man's lips twitch.
"No, no, I— I understand," he replied, his voice a little quieter, less steady. "That man was outnumbered. It wasn't fair."
"Fair?" Nigel scoffed. "He owed us a lot of money, now that's not very fair, is it? Where's your moral indignation for me?"
The man sucked his bottom lip between his teeth, chewing on it in silence. Nigel couldn't tell if it was a nervous gesture or a thoughtful one.
"I'll tell you a secret," he said, leaning in closer. He could smell the perspiration on the other man's body, slightly acrid and musky. "I don't give two shits about what you think is fair or just. I need you to reassure me that you have an ounce of common sense up in that little head of yours, that you understand that if you want to live, you'll promise me that you won't tell a soul. That you didn't see anything. I had a long night; I may still be slightly hungover. So, if I can avoid smashing in your skull and smearing your brains across the floor and get back to my day, I might just be willing to grant you that mercy."
There was a tense silence, and Nigel felt so certain that no one could be stupid enough to try and rebut such a kind offer. And yet.
"But I did see—"
CRACK.
The man's head shot to the side with the weight of the impact as Nigel struck another harsh slap against his other cheek, and intermingled with the sound was a rough, agonising moan that Nigel could feel in the tingling sensation that crept up his spine. He loved that sound.
"You're really fucking infuriating. Has anybody ever told you that?" Nigel asked with a resigned sigh. He took slow steps around the chair, the fine hairs on the back of his neck prickling slightly at the sound of soft, whimpering noises coming from the man's throat. He grabbed a handful of his dark curls, tugging his head back. "You know what? I'm going to let you see this; you don't deserve to be kept in the dark."
He swiftly pulled at the knotted blindfold, removing the fabric from around the man's eyes, discarding it carelessly onto the floor. When he walked back around to the front of the chair, what he saw took him by surprise.
Wide, cerulean eyes, made brighter by the wetness gathered in them, filled to the brim with unshed tears. He swallowed, and a single word came to mind: gorgeous. Then his vision drifted lower, saw how the younger man's throat had started to turn pink and, lower still, something caught him off guard.
"…The fuck?" Nigel muttered, furrowing his brow in confusion at the sight of something that simply couldn't be mistaken. "You got a hard-on? You a little freak or something?"
"No!" the man protested, shifting against the metal seat, but the rope restraining his wrists behind his back and his ankles to the chair legs meant that the motion was completely useless. There was simply no way of disguising how the white fabric of his boxers was tented outwards, and shit; the kid wasn't small, either. "It's a— a reflexogenic— reflexogenic reaction."
"A reflexowhatnow?"
The brunette's Adam's apple bobbed with a swallow. "Pain can cause a physiological, uhm, reaction. You hit me!"
"I've never gotten a boner from a slap in the face, and you talk like someone who has had to Google, 'hey, why did pain give me a boner'?"
The lack of a response made Nigel's lips pull into a smirk. Got it in one. "Right okay, so, what's your name, pervert? I want to remember this."
"Adam— I'm not a pervert!"
"Yeah, you are. Okay, Adam the pervert, let's see how much it takes to get the blood out of your dick and back into your head." Nigel gave him a pleased little nod before reaching for his waistband. He'd never considered himself a sadist; pain had always just been part of the job, but he couldn't deny that he got a little thrill out of the way that Adam's muscles visibly tensed when Nigel pulled the expensive leather free from his belt loops.
"I'm not a pervert," Adam repeated, those bright eyes now glaring daggers at Nigel, and damn if that didn't do a little something for him too.
Nigel hummed, giving Adam a patronising little nod as if to say, 'sure you're not', as he started to wrap his belt around his palm, tightly gripping the leather until he was happy with the length he had dangling free from his fist.
"Shall we test that theory?" Nigel asked and, before Adam could attempt to intervene, he struck the belt down across the tops of Adam's thighs, the fierce clap of leather against skin ringing out like a cruel bell through the large expanse of the warehouse.
Adam sucked in a sharp gasp, the chair legs scraping against the floor as his entire body jerked against his restraints. That was when his tears fell, full and heavy as they rolled down his cheeks, which by this point were slightly swollen from their beating, adding to the youthfulness of his reddened features.
"Still hard?" Nigel struck the belt down again, this time prompting a sharp cry to escape Adam's lips, his eyes tightly squeezing shut as he tried to brace himself against the impact. "Still can't keep your mouth shut?" A third hit, Nigel's heels bouncing slightly with the severity of the thrash, and he paused only to survey the welts that started to form across the tops of Adam's legs.
"A-ah…" Adam was panting, his limbs shaking slightly against the ropes, but his erection hadn't flagged in the slightest.
Nigel clicked his tongue. "Tough for a little thing, aren't you?" he almost cooed. He reached out then, pressing the blunt material of the belt against the bulge that strained against Adam's boxers. He mockingly rubbed it against the cotton, tutting loudly as he watched the material darken as the man's cock leaked in its confines.
"I— I do like it," Adam muttered suddenly, blinking up at Nigel with a slightly dazed expression. "I think that you're mean, but— I watch videos sometimes. Like this."
Nigel's brows shot up. "Yeah? You think this is like some kinky porno?"
Adam seemed to hesitate before shaking his head. "No, you're not dressed like the actors in the videos I like."
"What? You want me to be decked out in some rubber gimp suit?"
Those blue eyes peered at him in silence before Adam slowly nodded his head.
The fourth strike wasn't across Adam's thighs; it was higher, precisely aimed. The leather swiped through the air fast enough to whistle before crashing down between the man's legs, the bulk of the material colliding with muscle, but the firm tip flicked savagely across his groin, hitting the base of his cock and the centre of his balls.
The sound that Adam made was loud enough to make Nigel almost wince, and it was combined with a rough convulsion, like he wanted to fold in on himself, but the ropes prevented it. All he could do was spasm in place on the chair, the movements slowly easing into jittery tremors.
Nigel pursed his lips together. Adam was still hard. "I'm going to be honest with you, this is not how I expected my day to go."
"Nnn…"
Nigel let out a sigh, dropping the belt to the floor with a 'thunk'. He stepped closer, legs almost touching Adam's knees, and leaned down to place his fingertips against one of the darkening welts, watching as Adam jolted at the touch.
"Are you going to kill me now?" Adam croaked, blinking away tears as he looked back at Nigel studying him.
That was the question, wasn't it? Nigel felt an unexpected little ache in his chest at the dawning realisation that he didn't want to kill Adam. The boy was weird, and didn't know when to shut up, and undoubtedly a pervert, but he was also just someone who was in the wrong place at the wrong time, another stupid American getting mixed up in something that went way above their head.
He looked at Adam, really looked at him, those pretty eyes and delicately bowed lips, the makeshift gag still pressing into his chin. Then he looked south.
"Adam, have you ever fucked a man?" he asked without looking up.
"N— no…"
"Have you ever wanted to?" He glanced back up, and he could practically see the cogs turning inside Adam's head as his brow creased, lips tilted into a little frown.
"Well, I— it's supposed to be with the right person," Adam said slowly, sniffling a little. "When you meet another adult, and you like each other, and you discuss consent."
"This conversation is a fucking consent discussion, Adam," Nigel said slowly.
"Oh, right," Adam murmured. "Well, I'm not sure if you can really adequately discuss consent when one person is tied to a chair—"
"Adam, do you want to fuck me or not? Answer the question, I'm not going to wait all fucking day."
Adam's lips parted, and then he glanced down at his own erection. "Uh, yes—"
"Right, well, I have a cunt, you should probably know that, in the spirit of consent," Nigel stated bluntly as he straightened up and started to unbutton his trousers whilst the other man gawped at him.
"Oh, you have— oh, okay."
Nigel paused, fixing Adam with a look. "You don't have crabs or HIV or some shit, do you?"
Adam rapidly shook his head. "I've never— I don't—"
Nigel sighed. "You're a virgin, of course you're a virgin, I think we covered that. You know what? That's on me, that's my bad."
He started to tug his trousers and underwear down his thighs, awkwardly hopping backwards to slip his shoes off at the same time. Okay, so what he was doing wasn't exactly moral by any means, but there's only so long that you can be forced to stare at a dick that big and not be at least a little curious.
"Do you— do you have condoms?" Adam asked meekly.
Nigel stared at him. "Are you accusing me of unsanitary behaviour?"
Adam quickly shook his head again, then glanced down at Nigel's briefs (silk, leopard print, thank you very much)
"Don't worry, you're not going to knock me up," he huffed with a roll of his eyes. "Am I going to need to keep hurting you to keep you hard, or what?"
"N-no, I don't think so."
"Grand."
Nigel went to pull down Adam's boxers before stopping in his tracks, clicking his tongue as he realised that spread legs from tied ankles didn't make for easy undressing, but there were workarounds. When he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small flick knife, Adam groaned. That was something he'd need to explore at a later date. (A voice in the back of his head niggled about the fact that he was thinking of future arrangements.)
"I'm not going to cut you, you degenerate," Nigel muttered as he grabbed the side of Adam's boxers and, with a few awkward tugs and some choice cuts, he was able to decimate the garment enough to free Adam's— "Jesus Christ."
"Is everything okay?" Adam asked and, bless him, he sounded genuinely concerned.
In truth, Nigel was also concerned, but for a different reason entirely; namely, whether or not he'd be torn in two. "You're built like a fucking elephant." When he looked up at Adam, his face was even redder, his blush managing to overpower the palm marks on his cheeks, spreading to the tips of his ears.
Luckily for Nigel, the entire ordeal had made him wetter than he was willing to admit. When he stripped off his own underwear, he tried to ignore how Adam stared down at him, how that fascinated look in his eye made Nigel's stomach do a strange little flip. "Stop fucking staring, or I'll change my mind."
"Sorry!" Adam quickly averted his eyes, and Nigel struggled to resist the small smile that tugged at his lips as he climbed onto Adam's lap. Ridiculous, alluring boy.
Nigel had to spread his legs wide to get himself comfortably situated, thankful that his larger frame didn't make it too much of a struggle to straddle the bound man's thighs. He drew in a slow breath, just taking a moment to adjust to the position. He shifted forward slightly, and the brush of his own, small but engorged cock against the base of Adam's length caused the other man to inhale a gasp.
"Shit, Adam, you're something, aren't you?" he murmured as he rocked his hips forward again, his eyelids fluttering at the friction. He repeated the motion with a small groan, swaying himself back and forth against Adam's lap, lifting his hips just enough to really feel how hard Adam was against him.
"Wh-what is your name?" Adam blurted out, and Nigel momentarily froze, having to bite back a laugh.
"You need to know whose name to cry out, gorgeous?" he asked with a smirk, lifting himself higher and rocking himself into position so that he could feel the blunt head of Adam's cock against his entrance, teasing the both of them with the position. "It's Nigel."
"Nigel," Adam echoed, his eyelashes fluttering, the name leaving his mouth like something sacred.
"Fuck, I like how that sounds," Nigel moaned, closing his eyes as he bore down, slowly impaling himself on Adam's girth, the sheer thickness of it meaning that he had to brace himself and lower himself down in increments, each gradual adjustment stealing a breath from his lungs.
"Nigel, Nigel," Adam chanted softly, his body quivering slightly as his arms pulled against his restraints. "That's— oh God, you feel so good!"
"Yeah? You like that?" Nigel breathed. As he finally settled down fully on Adam's lap, he couldn't help but bite his lip hard enough that he was sure the skin would break. "Christ, I can feel you everywhere."
Adam let out a small whine, another tear rolling down his cheek. He seemed utterly overwhelmed, and the fact that he so clearly wanted to be free from the confines of the rope caused Nigel to clench and flex around his cock.
"Well—" he breathed through gritted teeth, "—now we're equal. I hurt you, you hurt me."
Adam's eyes flickered open with a look of concern, but Nigel quickly spoke up, "Don't you worry, baby, it's a good pain. You're just so fucking big. It'll settle."
"O-okay," Adam murmured, and God, that sweetness was going to kill Nigel. It felt like he could have truly brought Adam to the brink of death, and the boy still would have been ready to apologise at the drop of a hat, and fuck if that wasn't enough to make Nigel's heart ache.
"You're perfect, you know that?" Nigel whispered as he lifted his hips just enough to lower them back down in a shallow thrust, a rough grunt escaping his throat as the motion sent shocks of pleasure all through his belly, hips and thighs.
"I am?" Adam asked, and there was a genuine note of wonder in his voice.
"Mmhm, fucking perfect," Nigel replied, lifting his hips again. It was slow at first, a gradual rocking of his hips as he got used to the size, the fullness. That throbbing, burning pain from being so stretched open slowly eased and faded into a dull ache as he started to move in earnest. His breathing came out in short, soft pants as he rode Adam, fucking himself with deep thrusts.
"I want— I want to hold you," Adam whined, squirming slightly against the chair even as Nigel moved against him.
"Well, ain't that tough shit?" Nigel huffed a laugh, and the loud, petulant sound that Adam made in response went straight to his groin. He pressed in close, tilting his head to tuck it just under Adam's face, nipping at the side of his jaw with his teeth.
"Ah— your teeth are sharp—"
"Yeah?" Nigel tilted his head the other way, giving Adam's bottom lip a quick, sharp bite, causing his cock to jerk a little inside Nigel's body. "Fuck—"
Before Nigel could even react, he felt Adam's lips press against his own. The kiss was clumsy, full of inexperience, but Nigel was more than willing to accommodate. He placed a hand against Adam's cheek, guiding him into position until their lips slotted perfectly together and, before he knew it, he was rutting faster and harder against the younger man's lap with an eager, rhythmic bounce.
He felt a tentative tongue licking curiously at his lips, prompting him to mumble a shaky, "Christ, you're going to make me come."
"Please," was all Adam needed to say to push Nigel over the edge, a sharp cry punched out of his lungs as shocks of pleasure coursed through him. In the hazy whiteness of orgasm, he could feel how Adam's body reacted, twitching against his own contracting muscles, until he was being filled with a pulsating heat that seemed to trigger waves of warmth to spread throughout his limbs.
"F-fuck," Nigel mumbled after what felt like an eternity, his entire body oversensitive as he trembled on Adam's lap, sagging against the bound man as his muscles started to ache. "Big and you come a lot, I think it's up to my god damn eyeballs."
"That's— that's not physically possible, Nigel," Adam mumbled, and Nigel couldn't stop a slightly delirious laugh from bubbling out of his chest.
"Mm, weirder things have happened today," he replied, wincing slightly as he tried to shift himself off of Adam's softening cock, cringing a little as he felt the evidence of their debauchery slipping down his thighs.
"M-my arms hurt," Adam said softly, and Nigel gave his bicep a small pat.
"Yeah? I can make you hurt more later if you behave."
Adam blinked at him, his mouth opening and closing again.
"You're a tourist. Did you just travel into Bucharest for the day, or are you staying in a hotel or hostel near here?"
Adam pulled a little face at the mention of a 'hostel'. "A hotel," he answered.
"You're checking out today."
"I am?"
"You are. I can't have you ratting us out, can I? So you're going to check out of your hotel, and you're going to come and stay with me, where I can keep an eye on you."
Nigel studied Adam's face, bracing himself for the inevitable refusal. Of course, Adam wouldn't go willingly, but he was prepared to deal with that, by any means necessary. He was in deep, and once Nigel got his claws into someone, he didn't let go.
But Adam surprised him, not for the first time that afternoon.
"Can— can we have sex again? Uhm, without the ropes?" Adam asked meekly.
Nigel wasn't sure if he had heard correctly. "Uh, yeah, we can do that."
"…Okay." Adam nodded his head. Like it was as simple as that.
Maybe it was.

