(no subject)

[rockabillyboy]

Poison knows where he is, where he's gone, why he's there. Jillie's gone and Cassie's gone and Jack feels like he can't breath, because of the weight of his sorrow. And Poison is getting him through the worst of it, though the crying and the loss, but he needs some help with the black and tarry anger, the hurt and the loss. And there's nobody in Darrow that Jack trusts to get him out of his head like he knows Bull can.

So he knocks, and he waits, and he tries not to cry again.
There can't be anymore tears left.

Comments

[shok_ebasit_hissra]

Bull asked Jack to meet him at his apartment. He'd let the lease run out, but might as well keep it until then. The place was more bare, now, looking more like it had when he moved in.

He answered the door for Jack and let him in. He had hot water for tea ready, like he always did, either for before they got started or after they were finished. He wasn't sure what Jack needed, but he was already starting to pick it apart when he walked in.

"What happened?"

[rockabillyboy]

"My sister's gone. And my best friend. But mostly Jillie right now." It makes him feel like shit to admit that, to admit that, somehow, Cassie's loss hurts less, but there it is. "Jillie's gone and I need to...I need to feel something other than that."

[shok_ebasit_hissra]

Bull knew disappeared. It happened to Cassandra; he knew it could happen to anyone. He was grateful that everyone he'd gotten close to was still here.

"And you think what we do is going to take that away?"

Give your enemies what they want; give your friends what they need. Bull wanted to be sure he knew what Jack needed, even if Jack didn't know it himself, before he went too far.

"You want some tea?"

[rockabillyboy]

"I think that what we do is going to make me think something else for a while," he says. "I think it'll give me reason to stop thinking for a while."

Sometimes, when they're done, he feels like he's been wiped clean. And that, right now? That's what he needs most.

[shok_ebasit_hissra]

Bull had to consider for a moment before he asked his next question. Part of him didn't want to give Jack the option - not because he was worried about Jack, necessarily. Whether he liked to admit it or not, something was happening in this place and it was effecting him.

He didn't want to lose control, and it was feeling tenuous these days. But Jack had come here seeking help.

Finally he asked, "Restrained or unrestrained?"

[rockabillyboy]

"I honestly don't care," says Jack, rubbing his hands over his face. "But I want it to hurt."

[shok_ebasit_hissra]

Bull moved his head, tipping it toward the bedroom to get Jack moving in that direction.

"I may have to stop before you want me to," he warned. It was only fair to let Jack know, to give him the head's up. Bull felt confident in his control, otherwise he would have flat out told Jack that it needed to happen another time. But he didn't know how long that confidence would last when faced with any opportunity for violence.

"Whatever happens, you know the word."

He wouldn't gag Jack this time.

[rockabillyboy]

"Yeah," says Jack, nodding, as he walks in the direction of Bull's bedroom. "I know the word." Jack doesn't undress, not without being told, but he does sink down onto his knees on the floor, assuming the position.

On 23 October 2017 at 21:47, shok_ebasit_hissra - DW Comment < dw_null@dreamwidth.org> wrote:

[shok_ebasit_hissra]

Bull closed the bedroom door, even if they were the only ones here. He considered what to do with Jack, what he would allow himself to do. He was aware, more than usual at the moment, of how badly he could hurt a human without trying.

And Jack wanted him to try. To an extent.

"Down to your underwear," he said, because the exposure meant helplessness. "Then on the bed, kneeling, away from me."

He debated tying him. Would it be better - would he feel better if Jack was free to defend himself, if necessary? No, he told himself. He had control, he would remain in control. Jack needed it; he could give it. He found the ropes he used and put Jack in a tight harness, making sure his arms were secure behind his back.

[rockabillyboy]

He follows instructions. He strips down to his black boxers and kneels on the bed, moves where Bull wants him to move, bends where he wants him to bend. The tighter the ropes get, the quieter his head gets and it's good. It's what he needs. He flexes his fingers and he waits for what's coming next. He knows his safe park if he needs it.

[shok_ebasit_hissra]

Bull hoped that if he stuck to his bare hands, he'd remain more aware of what he was doing to Jack. He pushed Jack's shoulders down and smacked the inside of each thigh to get him to slide them further apart.

He waited a moment before the first, hard blow. It was meant to take Jack off guard - there was no build up, little warning, and the next few blows came in quick succession.

[rockabillyboy]

Jack lets Bull shove him into the position he wants him in - head down, ass up, thighs spread. The blow takes him by surprise and he has to bite back a yelp that Bull hasn't told him he can make. He finds a rhythm with the next few, though. He can feel subspace calling and that blissful blankness is all he wants.