aut_nihil | (no subject)

It only takes a minute more before he's spilling into Carver, groaning, a fist twisting in the sheets as he shudders with it.

He forgets completely where he is, just for that moment.

For a moment, they're just breathing together. Carver cups a hand to the back of Pope's neck, just holding him. He feels almost boneless, beyond pain.

Then someone wolf-whistles. "Damn."

Carver stiffens.

He's going to get them out of this. He has to get Carver strong, has to have him able to fight. If they fuck him again, at least it won't be like it was yesterday.

"You know how to survive this," he says softly, before he looks over his shoulder. He doesn't get off Carver, not yet. "Satisfied?"

The leader tsks, stepping in closer. There's no avoiding his gaze as he leans in, examine both of them. Looking almost thoughtful, though this time he doesn't reach for either of them. Doesn't try to grab Carver by the hair or slap him. Doesn't try to touch him at all. Why? Because Pope's in the way?

Maybe. Carver thinks. Maybe they've got more power here than they thought.

"He was sweet for you," the leader observes. "What was that like?"

"You wanted a show," Pope grunts. That's what this was for them, a show. But they gave them the lube and they aren't touching Carver and maybe, maybe, he can keep it that way. "We gave you one."

"Mhmm."

The leader cocks his head, almost thoughtful. His eyes are very blue, but there's something hungry behind them. Something ugly, and sharp.

"You're fun when you're worked up. Make him beg for it next time." The leader smiles. "Or I will. How's that sound?"

Carver would never beg for you, he thinks, but is too wise to say. He smirks as he thinks about slitting this man's throat.

"And when is next time? How often are you going to be horny for us, huh?"

"That's the fun of it! You don't know."

The leader smiles again. It doesn't meet his eyes. But there's something here, Carver thinks, even as he holds very still under Pope and doesn't breathe. They haven't been killed. Maybe the leader's trying to sell Pope as a hostage, get something for him, but the games they're playing aren't leading to information or even much in the way of control. It feels like sadism for its own sake, or a distraction. A beating would accomplish the same with much less effort, though.

Maybe they just want to do it. Maybe they're just sadists and rapists and that's as complicated as it gets. Carver breathes out slow and he hates himself but he prays that's the answer. Because sadists get stupid, and they can be manipulated.

"It's as often as I say it is, exactly how I say it is. You're more valuable in one piece, my man, but him?" The leader tsks. "I know you're fond of that one but grunts are a dime a dozen. So play along before I have to get really fucking nasty on you, okay?"

"You think he's a grunt?" Pope barks a laugh and rolls off of Carver, facing the man more head on. "You people didn't do your research."

Slowly, Carver pulls his pants back up and redoes his belt. Watching the room warily, trying to feel out his body. How much strength he has. He's still hurting, but the endorphins from the sex - because it did feel like sex this time, and not just a beating he took - have him calmer, looser. Maybe he can't fight for long but he thinks he could back Pope if there's an opening.

There's too many guards, though. They have to get those fuckers distracted. Maybe get the leader to come in alone, or send them away.

"You're going to a whole lot of trouble for an enlisted soldier," the leader murmurs, shifting to face Pope more fully. "It's admirable, really."

Pope's men aren't disposable. That's the difference between him and these people, he thinks, and he watches them and doesn't waver.

"If you knew the things this enlisted soldier could do you'd be begging him for help."

"Oh, but I know how nice he bends," the leader drawls, and Carver can hear the leer. The implications there, not even hidden.

He stands up, holding very still.

"Takes a beating like a champ, too," the leader muses. "Your handiwork, I'm assuming?"

"I know all his strengths," Pope grunts, watching the leader. "You're hot for him, huh?"

The leader laughs at that, sounding genuinely amused instead of angry. "Did have to teach him a little lesson. He killed a whole bunch of my guys. You understand that, don't you?"

Carver's fingers twitch.

"Cause if you don't," the leader continues, cocking his head. "Then I think we'll have to repeat some things. Really make sure it sticks."

"You think your lessons don't stick? What kind of leader are you if you can't get it right the first time?" Pope scoffs.

"Or maybe I'm petty and like watching you two squirm," the leader replies, tone going colder. A warning. "Six of one, half a dozen of the other. I think we're gonna go again, Pope. Yeah, I think we're gonna go again."

It's a game. It's a balancing act. He doesn't know if he can keep Carver safe but he's trying.

"I just fucked him," he retorts. "You want me to go again? You better make him fuck me, you'll have better luck." Like they will never do that because it's that absurd.

"Well, now that you mention it..."

Carver goes very still. Barely breathing. He can't do that to Pope. He can't.

The leader laughs ever so softly. "I'll make it your call. How's that? He's pretty young, I bet he can go again. So, let's see him fuck you. Or I'll hold him down and have some more fun with him while you watch. That's fair, right? You got options. What's it gonna be?"

"He fucks me," Pope grunts. "He's good to go again."

He won't be, he knows, but he can't stomach throwing Carver to these men again.

He is terrified.

Carver swallows hard. "I can take it, sir," he manages, eyes ahead, even though his throat is almost painfully tight. "I can-"

"Loyal," the leader observes. "I wonder how long that'll hold. I'm gonna make you scream, kid."

"He's giving you a show," Pope snaps. "You think this is easy for him? Fucking a commander?"

He's sweating. He's afraid. All he has is control of his breathing, nothing else.

"Chain of command's a bitch to go again," the leader agrees, sounding almost sympathetic. He steps closer, walking up to Carver and trailing his fingers up Carver's arm. Daring a reaction. "You don't wanna, do you?"

Carver keeps his eyes straight ahead. He holds very still, barely breathing.

The leader tsks, and then abruptly backhands him. Carver staggers back, reeling.

"Give us a show, kid. Or we'll run a game on both of you next time."

Carver doesn't reach to touch his stinging face, even though he can taste blood in his mouth. There's no choice here, is there? No choice.

"Sir," he murmurs, trying to meet Pope's eyes. Desperate for guidance.

He's afraid.

He cannot, at any cost, show it.

"Fortitudo salutis," he says. They will find strength from this battle.

He has to get Carver out of this alive. No matter what.

"Get over here, show me what you know."

There's no hesitation in Pope's tone. A good, familiar mask. Carver breathes in through his nose, out through his mouth. They've got to war together. Pope's fucked him twice now. The second time made him come. The second time didn't feel like a wound. Maybe -

Maybe it can be like that.

Carver moves stiffly, going to Pope's side. "Fortitudo salutis," he murmurs. "Sir."

The respect is automatic.

"It'll-" he swallows. "It'll be easier if you lie down."

He's relying on Carver for tips now. He's out of his depth.

He lays back down, one knee brought up protectively, and he watches Carver. Ignores the others. Time to ignore them entirely.