Status: My problem is that I think I'm funny but I'm also lowkey ***ed up. enjoy<3


chapter eight.


“Wouldn't surprise me if this place was haunted.”

Chuck let out a wry chuckle while the group of men laughed at Jeff’s comment. This was the third time he’s heard the floorboards creak above them and felt the need to point it out.

Chuck slid a look to his right, shifting stares with the forty year old at the other end of the couch. Miguel licked his lips with a sigh and brought the bottle of Bud Light to his mouth.

“Hey, Jeffy,” he said, “shut the fuck up.”

The simple eloquent remark silenced the man as the other three stifled their laughs.

One of the three, Brian, sunk back into the recliner and quipped, “Yeah, can't hear the damn game over your bitching. But knowing Chuck, it probably is ghosts.”

Their laughs rang out again.

Jeff changed his theory, a wicked grin appearing.

“Knowing Chuck,” he interjected, “he's probably got someone up there.”

Brian raised his beer bottle in agreement.

Tipping it back, he said, “Good point. I didn't think about that.”

Chuck gulped the rest of his beer down in one mouthful. “Ding-ding,” he said through gritted teeth. “We have a winner.”

The group laughed. Jeff inquired, “Who's the fox?”

Chuck stood, empty beer bottle in hand. Waiting for the Cowboys to score on the Eagles, he thought up an answer. “Amber and Danny went away for their anniversary so I'm stuck watching her kid.” He disappeared into the kitchen to grab another Bud Light, coming back into more questions.

Brian furrowed his brows, smiling.

“Oh, little Lexi is here?” Chuck's six year old niece.

He shook his head and Brian's smile fell.

“Lexi’s with our mom. She's got a son - from that fuckface before Danny. His name’s Kiran.”

Hearing that name, Miguel’s head shot up and he immediately stared at the ceiling. He knew Chuck bought himself a new toy, but he didn't tell him who it was. Miguel felt his jeans tighten and he smirked, taking a sip of his beer.

He knew if he paid Chuck the right amount, he'd get to fuck Kiran. If he offered him drugs, he could have sex with him whenever he wanted.

Even seven months later, Kiran still put up a fight with Miguel, and he loved that challenge. He could just imagine the complete look of horror on Kiran's face when he sees him here at Chuck's house.

Miguel smirked to himself again. He began to peel the label off the beer bottle.

He faded back into reality to hear, “I didn't know she had a son.”

“Well, she's not your sister, Brian,” Chuck snapped. “She has a son. I don't just have some random ass kid staying in my house.”

Miguel abruptly got up from the couch. “I gotta piss.” Getting mumbles in response, Miguel headed towards the staircase. He glimpsed over his shoulder to see they had all finally shutted themselves up and immersed themselves back into the televised football game.

Instead of going into the bathroom, he crept as silently as he could up the carpeted staircase, biting his lip at the sleeping figure he found huddled up in the guest bedroom.

He stole one last cautious look over both his shoulders before shutting the door behind him.

He eagerly undid his jeans.


A sudden blood curdling shriek tore throughout the house.

That should've been all it took for the five men to run towards the cry, but they remained seated, shifting confused looks with one another.

Then the words “Stop! Get out, get out!” were screamed and Chuck quickly stood at attention. The spot at the end of the couch was empty and the ideas of what Miguel could be doing got Chuck's blood boiling.

Not my toy.

Chuck got up the stairs as fast as he could, the anger amping up at the sight of the closed door and the hellish screams of agony that came from the other side.

He gripped the handle and cussed loudly when he couldn't get it to turn.

His jaw clenched, Chuck seethed, “I'm gonna fucking kill you! Get the fuck off my -- !” He stopped himself from saying ‘toy’, feeling bodies crowd behind him. Chuck took a step back and threw his body weight against the locked door. Hearing it buckle, he tried two more times before lifting his foot and successfully kicking it open.

He flicked the lights on but his sudden entrance did nothing to stop Miguel. He continued to grunt loudly, lost in the pure ecstasy, his nails digging into the boy's backside. He was fully clothed with his jeans around his knees. The same was for Kiran.

Kiran almost seemed to disappear under the two hundred pound man. The only indication that he was even there was his brash sobs for help and his hands as they clutched the bed sheet under him. Chuck ripped the plug from the wall and cracked the lamp over Miguel's head. He tumbled back with a yelp after being thrown to the ground.

Kiran stayed kneeling on the bed. He buried his face into the pillows and sobbed.

“What the fuck is going on?” Chuck finally said. He was beyond angry, there was no mistaking that. He felt betrayed. He snatched Miguel by the neck of his shirt only to send him hurdling back down with a satisfying kick to the side of his skull.

“You don't touch him!” he snarled. “Don't ever touch him again.” The kick was a gateway. The anger fueled him to stomp, and a retching sound came from Miguel's mouth when Chuck's steel-toed boot crushed down on his throat.

Kiran cried out. He gripped his ears to block out Chuck's cursing and Miguel's groans of pain.

Chuck yanked Miguel up from the ground.

“Get your fucking pants on, Ramirez. Get the fuck out of here.” He shoved the man towards the door and glowered at the four others lingering out in the hall, watching in horror.

“All of you, get the hell out of here - now.”

They didn’t need to be told more than once.

Brian snatched Miguel up from his hunched over position on the ground. “We'll take care of him,” he nodded, grimacing at the thought of Miguel had just done. He forced himself on a teenage boy, who he thought was Chuck’s nephew.

Miguel muttered angrily to himself as the men hauled him from the room.

Even after the front door slammed shut, Chuck stood still, trying to calm his nerves. He wanted to kill Miguel. That was his toy. If he wanted to have sex with him, all he had to do was ask and provide a form of payment.

Instead he went behind Chuck's back.

That pissed him off beyond belief.

Kiran's quiet cries broke Chuck from his fixated anger. He turned back to look at him, crouched down on the bed, his pajama bottoms still around his knees. His whole body was shaking. Chuck’s demeanor changed instantly and he unintentionally softened his expression. It took him a second to realize what else had happened. Miguel didn't just have sex with Kiran without Chuck's permission but Kiran's. Kiran was raped. He attacked him when he was sound asleep, his first night in a new house where he already didn't feel safe.

He wasn't that much of an asshole that he wouldn't acknowledge it.

He knelt down, getting eye level with him. He ruffled his fingers through Kiran's hair, murmuring, “Shh, shh. It's okay. It's gonna be okay.” Kiran still clutched the sheets between his fingers, briefly loosening his grip when Chuck placed a hand over his and gave it a soft squeeze.

“It's gonna be okay,” he continued softly, running his thumb under Kiran's eyes to wipe the tears. “Here. Let's get you covered up.” He pulled the cotton bottoms back on Kiran, his hand tracing over his shoulders. He leaned forward to gently kiss Kiran's forehead.

“I'm here now. No one's gonna hurt you. It's okay. It's gonna be okay.”

Kiran was slowly regaining control of himself. He took a deep breath to steady his breathing. Closing his eyes, he sighed when Chuck's hands gently stroked the side of his face. Kiran slowly wrapped his arms around Chuck's neck and pressed his tear streaked face into his shoulder.

He felt so safe. He's never been consoled after something like this happened. He felt safe. He felt...loved.

Chuck tensed at his touch but cautiously draped his arm over Kiran's shoulder, leaning in for a hug.

“Don’t leave,” Kiran murmured into his shirt. The only response he got was Chuck standing to walk over to the other side of the bed. He picked the blanket up from the ground. Without another word, his eyes trained on Kiran's, he slipped in next to him, tugging the covers over them.

He pulled Kiran close to him and sighed into his hair.

“I'm here,” he said again, tightening his hold on Kiran, feeling him relax into the embrace. Kiran's eyes began to water again. He squeezed his eyes shut and nodded, letting out a shaky breath before he could respond.

“Thank you,” he whispered and Chuck tightened his hug.

He knew that this meant he was one step closer to having Kiran's total trust.

He almost smiled at the thought.


Kiran shut the faucet off and stepped out of the bath tub. Drawing the towel over his shivering body, he stopped to run his hand over the fogged up mirror, and stared at his reflection.

His eyes went right to the fading yellow bruise on his jawline and the reminder of Miguel's assault made him sigh. On the exhale he couldn't stop the sudden coughing fit. He cleared his sore throat, although there wasn’t a ball of mucus to cough up. Retrieving the container marked ‘Azithromycin’ from the medicine cabinet, he shook the correct dosage out and popped the last two remaining red pills into his mouth, swallowing them with the help of tap water.

He had no idea what the a-word meant but Chuck said they'd cure whatever sickness had been bothering him for the last three weeks.

Kiran quickly changed into his newest outfit and planted himself down into the couch cushions, the TV remote in his hand. He flicked aimlessly through the channels until he heard the familiar sound of a truck door slamming shut. He sat at the edge of the couch, heart fluttering at the shadowed figure he saw on the other side of the curtains.

Kiran sat back casually, chin resting on his palm, but he grinned widely at Chuck once he shut the front door behind him, peeling his jean jacket off.

Chuck returned the smile, greeting, “Well, hello, angel.” He bent to press a soft kiss onto Kiran's hairline, tossing his jacket over the back of the couch.

He disappeared into the kitchen, returning with a beer. It wasn't even five o’clock.

Cracking it open, he joined Kiran on the couch, instinctively dropping his arm over the back so Kiran could nuzzle in next to him. He chugged half of it down with the first sip. He offered some to Kiran and bit back his smirk when Kiran accepted, letting the cold bubbly liquid soothe his throat.

“You feeling any better?”

Kiran nodded, handing the bottle back. “I took the rest of the pills. Might have to get some more for you.”

Chuck only nodded. Kiran tipped his head to rest it on Chuck's shoulder. He batted his eyes up at him, feeling a smile touch his lips.

“I'm probably not contagious anymore,” he hinted, eyes locking with Chuck's. He fed that smirk right back at Kiran.

“Sounds like you've got something you wanna do.”

“Maybe I do.”

Chuck shook his head, though he wanted to pounce on him. “You're still sick.” Chuck had taken all his antibiotics. He no longer had the disease, and neither did Jamie. Kiran still felt the illness. He didn't want to keep swapping the STD between the three of them.

That didn't stop him from dragging his fingertips down the length of Kiran's thigh. He gripped his hands around his hips and pulled Kiran's legs into his lap, continuing to brush his fingers along the lining of his jeans.

The urge was quickly becoming too much to ignore. Fucking Kiran was all he thought about today, not to mention, the entirety of the past month. Jamie just got off his meds last week and he was back to work but with a client when Chuck stopped by during his lunch break for their routine quickie.

Without Jamie, he was forced to come home to a sexless, STD-ridden house, and so far all Kiran's done was give him blue balls.

Kiran didn't exactly know what had suddenly gotten into him. He has yet to act this way towards Chuck. He really liked the little relationship they had built in the past month but as he had said, this was nothing like what he expected to happen. He didn't think he'd get to stay in this house for more than an hour without being used for sex. It was something he had grown accustomed to.

He almost didn't know what to do with himself if he wasn't servicing a client.

He could easily see the desire in Chuck's eyes. He knew he wanted to, but Kiran had to go and get himself sick.

He bit at his lip and shrugged as a response before kissing softly along Chuck's jawline, squeezing in a few nips here and there. Kiran pulled away only slightly. Chuck's knuckles grazed his stomach and continued tracing patterns on his hips. Their lips hovered over each others, and Chuck was tempted to just attack him with all he had, and let go of everything that was holding him back.

He's waited a month for sex with Kiran.

Sex was why he spent so much damn money on him. He got him for sex, and so far the only sex he's been having has been with Jamie.

He craved to feel Kiran’s touch, hear him moan, feel his nails dig into his skin. He needed to. His eyes gazed longingly at the bruise on his cheek. He wished he was the one who had caused it.

Most of all, he wanted to hear him cry, scream, beg - whether it was in pleasure or terror. Although he preferred the latter, he could get off either way.

Kiran's lips were so utterly perfect from this perspective - light pink, perfectly plump… practically begging for contact. He wanted to feel them around his cock.

The thought of his warm, wet mouth - fuck.

As soon as Kiran's dark brown eyes closed, Chuck’s hands were everywhere at once, greedy yet gentle. He groaned against Kiran's soft, plump lips as they kissed each other hungrily. Kiran felt perfect - no words did him justice, and Chuck found it unusually hard to stop himself. He remembered he was still clutching the beer bottle. He carefully set it to the ground and pressed himself forward get Kiran to lie back onto the couch.

Kiran's legs wrapped desperately around his hips.

He groaned as Chuck tore his lips away from his, hastily ending the kiss before they took it too far. They were both tense again. His fingers stopped. Kiran's fingers stopped. Their breathing slowed. Chuck's dark eyes had glazed over and Kiran could only imagine how his looked.

The word lust came to mind as Chuck smirked again and his eyes darted to the boy’s lips.

Kiran wanted his mouth on his again. And just as it seemed like his wish was about to be granted, Chuck stopped short. His hands dropped to Kiran's hips and Kiran's legs loosened limply.

His throat felt incredibly dry.

“Kiran,” he murmured hoarsely. Kiran's pulse accelerate all over again. His finger trailed along his jawline once more before their eyes convened.

“Charles,” Kiran's voice cracked and Chuck grinned. He went in for one last kiss.

“You need to get better before we can even thinking about having sex.”

Kiran blushed at his words. Sex. Consensual sex that he genuinely wanted. He never thought he'd live to see the day where he'd get to have that.

Kiran scrunched his nose before he sighed over-dramatically. “Well, fine then.” He pushed on Chuck's shoulders and they both sat up, but he stood and headed for the kitchen.

Chuck downed the rest of his beer, eyes enticed, watching as Kiran left the room.

He called after him, “Thinking about having a cookout for the fourth. Gotta do some grocery shopping before then. It's on Tuesday.”

Kiran popped open the fridge and grabbed a Gatorade. He came back in through the revolving doors.

He snootily asked, “Cool, can I come or do I have to hide out in the attic?”

Chuck sent a snarky smile his way.

“You can come if you stick to the story that you're my nephew, yeah.”

“Easy,” he said, clocking the lid off as he plunked down next to him. “Uh, what's my mom’s name again?”

“Amber. Her husband is Danny. Your real dad is an abusive scumbag. We don't talk about him.”

Kiran set the bottle on the ground and moved to perch his feet up on Chuck's lap. Tipping the drink back, he scoffed a sneer.


♠ ♠ ♠
lookie a relationship is forming
It ain't gonna last