Hustler

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Kiran groggily slumped his way into the dark, empty kitchen, and felt a little disappointed when he didn't find Chuck lounging at the dinner table. Sometimes Chuck sits out here in the middle of the night, getting high all by himself. Most of the times he'd offer Kiran some, and on nearly every occasion, Kiran would accept.

Scratching at his bare arms, he picked lightly at scabs the track marks left behind. He slouched to peer into the fridge, hoping to find some type of drink. There were bottles everywhere, mainly ones to get sloshed with, but a few were PG.

He blindly grabbed one, shutting the refrigerator's door when he seemed to have gotten someone's attention.

A couple light taps startled him and he looked in the direction of the sound, relaxing at the sight of Chuck. He sat out on the back porch, knuckles drumming against the glass window. The porch light was on, making Kiran wonder how long he had been outside and with no drapes over the windows to block his view, Kiran understandably wondered if he had been silently creeping on him ever since he walked into the dining room.

The two met eyes and a sly grin took over Chuck's face as he held a small ziploc baggie in the air for Kiran to see, a blurred substance inside it, but he knew it to either be cocaine or heroin. Chuck's a big fan of both. He pressed it against the glass and motioned for Kiran to come outside. Kiran rushed to quietly join him outback and onto the patio couch, coming to see Chuck had an entire set up out here.

Bongs, hookahs, various pipes, a couple razor blades to make equal doses of cocaine and heroin, and so much more.

Heaven.

In Chuck's lap, on top of a large dinner plate, was a scrap of foil. The small bag was there, too – heroin – along with a lighter and a pipe. As Kiran sat down next to him, Chuck tipped him a smile, and Kiran laughed out, getting a look at the man's face. The whites of his eyes were bloodshot red, his pupils dilated. He had that cute drunken smile Kiran adored.

Who knows what all he was on right now. Kiran also spotted bags of weed and coke. There was a crack pipe sticking out from between the cushion and the arm of the sofa.

"Half the people coming by tomorrow have kids," Chuck began to explain, regarding the Fourth of July cookout. He paused to swap out the baggie of heroin for the marijuana. "I don't want the house smelling like weed, or else I'd be in the kitchen instead of out here, hanging with the mosquitoes."

Kiran smiled at him as he tapped out a bit of the leaves from the little baggie into the bowl.

"That's sweet of you," he said, leaning forward to put his chin on Chuck's shoulder. He gave him a quick peck on the cheek, then asked with a hinting tone, "You know what'd make you even sweeter?"

Chuck looked at him with a growing smile.

"Why don't you tell me, baby?"

He pointed his finger at the hand pipe Chuck now hovered the flame of a lighter over.

"Sharing is caring."

"But of course." Chuck took a brief break from burning the weed to gesture at the clear glass bong that sat on the table in front of them. "There's another lighter right there. Help yourself."

As he took a hit from the pipe, Kiran brought the bong onto his lap, grabbing the lighter off the table. He flicked out a flame and was stopped by Chuck leaning forward to shake some more weed into the bong's bowl. They covered the slightly charred bits left behind from earlier.

He packed the bowl, lit up, and breathed in the cloud of smoke, feeling his throat burn against the fumes and his mind get hazy within seconds. A couple more hits and he was good.

Kiran set the bong on the table and lounged back onto the sofa. He just wanted to lie down and sleep, but was made to flutter open his eyes when Chuck took his hand in his and put it palm up on his lap. Kiran looked to see he had a syringe in his hand. There was a metal spoon with a brown liquid in it on the table that he hadn't noticed before. That same brown liquid filled the needle.

Kiran suddenly had a rubber band pushed up around his wrist, and he sat up to move it across his bicep. He smacked at his inner forearm until the faint indentation of his veins started to appear and put his arm back into Chuck's lap.

Chuck flicked his finger against the needle's body a few times to get rid of any air bubbles before angling the needle at the bulging blue vein. It pierced the skin, making Kiran cringe. Chuck noticed the facial expression and murmured, "Shh, I know, angel. Hold on...there you go." When he pushed the plunger and the warm liquid entered Kiran's veins, he forgot all about the uncomfortable disgust.

Chuck withdrew the needle and wiped gingerly at the bead of blood that had popped out of the injection site. He then repeated the same process several times on himself.

It wasn’t long before they both lolled back onto the sofa, content and high. Kiran knew what was next after they took their second shot of whisky, and though he first tensed at Chuck's fingers as they traced his hairline and tapered down the side of his face, he didn't voice any protests.

Then Chuck's lips softly touched his neck, and the rank stench of various alcoholic beverages wafted into his nose. He was suddenly at an impasse of his own. An impasse of grogginess and horniness. He felt the same eagerness Chuck did -- the shots of liquor they took fueled his hormones, but the mixture of drugs left a hazy film over his eyes. He desperately wanted to sleep.

He couldn't deny that giving in to Chuck would be good; that's why he hasn't rejected any of Chuck's advances in the past week, but now that they have had sex, it seemed to be all they ever did. It was what Chuck wanted to do first thing in the morning before he left for work, when he got home; he even stopped by the house during his lunch breaks for a quickie, something he has never done before now. He'd wake Kiran in the middle of the night, that same stench of alcohol radiating off of each breath, his clothes smelling heavily of weed, and usually after they did some shots and took a few hits, they'd be at each other's heels for hours after.

Chuck knew damn well how the drugs and alcohol affected Kiran. The high never failed to heighten his senses. His touch sent bolts of electricity through the boy and his lips tingled against his skin.

Kiran closed his eyes and bit at his bottom lip to keep the sigh from rolling out.

Despite how good it felt, he made himself laugh out, "Chuck..." putting his hands on Chuck's shoulders in attempt to get him to stop, but he continued to kiss at his neck, biting down roughly in between kisses.

"Hmm, baby?"

Kiran smiled at the pet name. "I'm tired," he said sleepily, shifting himself back so they could briefly meet eyes. Chuck smirked as he shook his head.

"Let me wake you up, angel."

He trailed his lips up to Kiran's jaw before locking their mouths together, quickly picking up the pace. His hands were at the waistband of Kiran's pajama bottoms and he let Chuck untie the string. He gripped his hands through his hair as Chuck lifted his shirt to his chest and dragged his kiss down the bare, exposed skin, continuing to as he worked Kiran's boxers down his hips.

Kiran instantly dropped his head over the back of the couch and buckled his hips to push himself deeper into Chuck's mouth. He groaned as his tongue glided back and forth along the base and he bobbed his head up and down, up and down until he abruptly pulled away to lock his mouth onto Kiran's.

They made out for what felt like years until Kiran suddenly tensed, anxiously laughing as he broke the kiss. Chuck was too absorbed in leaving hickeys on his neck to care.

"Chuck," he whined playfully again. "I'm tired. I wanna go to bed." He really wanted to let him continue kissing his neck, but what he needed more was sleep. At the sight of Chuck fumbling with his own jeans, Kiran knew he was too caught in the moment to listen to him.

He quickly put his hands on Chuck's shoulders and said, "Chuck, stop." He had to say it several times before he finally did, sitting back in confusion.

"What, baby? What's wrong?"

"I don't..." Kiran sighed, having to shy his eyes away. "I don't...want to...anymore. I don't want...that...right now."

Chuck stared at him, furrowing his brows. He didn't want to have sex with him? The rejection started to register to him and his mouth went from a straight line to a fabricated frown. "Well, why not, baby?" he asked, leaning to tower back over Kiran marginally. His eyes went from his to his neck and he dragged his fingers teasingly over the collar of Kiran's shirt.

Kiran didn't realise that he had held in his breath at some point, letting it out when he attempted to scoot back, only moving an inch. He moved Chuck's hands and watched him draw them to his lap.

"It's just..." He laughed nervously. "I wanna cuddle. I'm tired."

"You wanna cuddle?" Chuck repeated, like he was talking to a child, which...he was. Chuck laughed. "We always cuddle after we have sex. We'll cuddle then."

"But I don't..." want to have sex.

Kiran didn't finish his sentence out loud. He was suddenly fearful of telling Chuck 'no', how he'd react, how the word would affect his self-esteem. He felt like he didn't even have the right to tell him 'no.'

Chuck smiled and slipped his hand from Kiran's neck to his jaw, running his thumb over Kiran's lip.

"We'll cuddle after, okay, angel? I'll let you sleep in my room with me. Would you like that?"

Kiran hesitated but he nodded. Chuck smiled again, pushing his lips onto Kiran's sealed-shut mouth, kissing him twice. He stiffly let Chuck take his kiss down to his waist. Kiran grimaced as Chuck worked his hands and mouth to keep the erection up, but it didn't feel the way it did before. It wasn't good. It just made his skin crawl.

The way Chuck responded -- Kiran may not have said a definite 'no', but anyone with a brain could tell it was what he meant.

Chuck just didn't listen.

He felt sick to his stomach. If he wanted that feeling to go away, he knew he had to give in, make himself believe this was what he wanted, too.

He sighed, resting his hands on Chuck's shoulders. He could feel a smile form on Chuck's face. Kiran whispered to him, telling him to, "Come here."

Chuck replaced his mouth with his hands, leaning up to kiss Kiran. His hands let go, shifting to grope under Kiran's shirt. He gently pushed Kiran so that they were laying down, Kiran's back pressing firmly against the arm of the couch.

The kiss deepened and Kiran felt himself give in more and more, just enjoying the feeling of being wanted. Chuck grinded his hips against the back of Kiran's thighs, his hands gripping tightly around Kiran's waist. When he started to get rougher, Kiran placed a hand on his chest, pushing him away gently. His eyes were heavy and burning for sleep. Each second that passed, the urge to pass out grew greatly.

Along with amping his sex drive, drugs and alcohol exhausted him beyond belief. Chuck knew that yet he still gets this way.

Chuck tried desperately to keep the kiss going, and immediately groaned when Kiran pulled his lips away each time.

"Really," Kiran laughed, "I think that's enough."

Chuck wanted more. He shook his head right back at him, going to close in on his lips, but Kiran laughed, pulling back again.

"I'm so tired. First thing in the morning," he promised, curving his arms around Chuck's neck, hooking his fingers together. "I promise we will."

Chuck held his stare, but didn't convey a hint of acceptance. A fire had sparked in his glazed-over eyes. An uneasy feeling rippled through Kiran's stomach, a chill crept up his spine. Chuck abruptly sat up, startling Kiran. He tore Kiran's hands from his shoulders, scowling at his wide, shocked stare.

"Am I supposed to just listen to you?"

Kiran sat still for a moment, his furrowed brows causing a crease to form on his forehead.

He looked at him completely dumbfounded.

"Well, yeah," he laughed humorlessly. "What do you -- ?" he started to say but was immediately cut off.

"Why do you always get what you want?" Chuck continued. He fumbled slightly to pluck the pack of cigarettes from the table, clumsily knocking one out. Flicking the lighter on, his tone dripped with sarcasm as he mocked shrilly, "'I wanna cuddle' -- 'I wanna watch this, not that, even though that's what you want to watch' -- 'I'm tired' -- we always do what you want. Never what Chuck wants."

The bridge of Kiran's nose twitched and his jaw hung open. He sprang up into a sitting position and glowered at the, dare he say, ‘man’ in front of him.

"Literally all we've done this whole week is have sex!" he reminded Chuck with a short, unimpressed laugh. “What the fuck do you mean: 'Never what Chuck wants'? Shut the fuck up!"

"Well, what the fuck suddenly changed?" he snarled back at him, puffing at the end of the cigarette. "Why are you suddenly saying 'no'? I don't even have to ask if you want to. You're the one who starts it. Why are you saying 'no' now?"

"I'm fucking tired!" Kiran just about shouted. "It's three in the goddamn morning! I came down here to get something to drink. If your drunk ass wasn't out here, I'd still be in bed."

"Then go!"

"What is your fucking problem?" Kiran snapped. "Why are you getting all pissy? I get that you're drunk so naturally you're gonna be a bit more of ass than usual, but this is just fucking stupid. This is the first time I've said 'no' this entire week. Get the fuck over it."

“Oh, you stupid --” The attitude on this kid! Chuck wandered momentarily in a circle, whipping around suddenly to stared at him as if the reason couldn't be more obvious. "I want - to have - sex! That's what this whole goddamn conversation's about. You get what you want. I never do."

"What are you -- fifteen? What I want and what you want are completely different things. I want to go to sleep. You want sex -- completely different."

Chuck rolled his eyes, stuck the cigarette between his lips, and started his stumbling stomp towards the back door. Seconds before disappearing into the dark kitchen, he lost his footing and cursed out as it all went to shit right then and there. He stumbled back, arms flailing over dramatically. His knee caught the edge of the coffee table and he continued to curse as he tumbled around before finally landing hard on his butt.

The simple fall dragged out for an entertaining ten seconds and Kiran somehow managed to not even crack a smile the entire time, but the sight of Chuck’s feet poking up over the end of the table as he laid squarely on the ground, continuing to cuss, a small snort escaped his nose and he couldn't stop himself from cackling.

“God -- dramatic much? God damn!”

Chuck sat up with a glare, the cigarette still lit between his teeth. He scoffed, placing his hand on the ledge of the table to prop himself up. “You're not even gonna ask if I'm okay? Fuck you!” he scoffed again, looking back at Kiran with a narrowed glare.

“No, you're right -- Chuck, I'm sorry. Are you okay?” But just as he had asked it, the fall replayed in his head and he was snorting again. “You shoulda fuckin’ seen that!” Kiran exclaimed, doubling over as he continued to laugh.

That was all it took for Chuck’s vision to begin to blur out. He stood now, teeth clenched, fists balled as he chucked the cigarette to the ground.

“You shut your goddamn mouth, whore!” He bent at the knees and got a firm grip on the lip of the table. In one fluid motion, he lifted it from the ground at an angle. Kiran quickly stopped laughing to snap at him to stop, but all the bongs and pipes that were once sitting on the table’s surface now slid off and went crashing to the concrete flooring.

Once everything found a new home on the ground, Chuck gave one good shove and sent the table flying off the edge of the patio, letting it topple over into the yard.

Kiran was now standing. “Are you fucking kidding me?! What's your fucking problem?”

“Oh,” Chuck closed the distance between them in one step. “It’s not so funny now, huh?”

Kiran instinctively put his hands up when Chuck got too close, and though he didn't touch Chuck, it was enough to make Chuck grimace down at him.

“Go ahead,” Chuck challenged, pushing him back slightly. “Put your fucking hands on me and see what happens.”

“Stop being an asshole!” Kiran side-stepped away, but Chuck gripped him by the wrist.

"How did it feel," Chuck gritted through his teeth, "when you said you wanted to go to sleep and I didn't want you to? How did it feel when I finally started to get my way?"

Fucking terrifying. Borderline rapey.

Kiran gave him a look of utter disbelief, his brows knotted closer together. Before Kiran could answer, Chuck kept talking.

"It wasn't a good feeling, was it?" he slurred smugly. "Didn't feel good to be told 'no,' huh?"

There was another long moment of tense silence, then Kiran scoffed exasperated. He pulled his arm from Chuck’s hand, flinging his arms up in astonishment. "Completely different!" he shouted shrewdly into the night air. "Sex and sleep -- not the same thing, you fucking dickhead! Don't try to manipulate me. Go jack off if you're that damn horny."

Chuck's eyes narrowed and his brows went at an angle.

In an instant, his demeanor changed and that devilish smirk overtook his face once more as he dug around his back pocket. He withdrew another cigarette and pushed it back into his mouth, lighting it.
He drooped his shoulders, taking a long drag.

He scoffed out a dark chuckle, wagging his finger.

"We're having sex," he stated and grinned at the sight of Kiran's pale face. "Tomorrow, before the cookout. I don't give a fuck if you don't want to. I'm not asking. We will have sex. I will get what I want."

The words took a few seconds to really hit Kiran, but once his intentions fully registered to him, Kiran's mouth went numb and a cold sweat hit him. A prickling sensation slowly etched through his body. He could've swore his heart stopped.

He clenched his jaw, his eyes beginning to burn.

"What...?" He stopped to close his eyes and shake his head, taking this chance to get further away from Chuck, stopping as he reached the end of the patio. He made himself laugh. "What is wrong with you?" he sneered. "Seriously, Chuck. This is why I hate when you drink. You always have to say some fucked up shit like this. Just go to bed. Jack off. Hire another prostitute. I really don't care."

"You know exactly what I want."

He wanted to...assault him, in ways Kiran wouldn't let himself think about.

"If that's what you want," Kiran's voice struggled to croak out, "then why wait? If you're so angry...why don't you just do whatever it is you have planned right now? Why wait until tomorrow? That makes no sense. You're just being a dick."

The embers of the cigarette burned a bright orange that Chuck snubbed against the doorframe. He flicked the barely-smoked cigarette to the ground, never once taking his eyes from Kiran.

With a tilt of his head and a smirk on his face, he said simply, "Anticipation, baby boy. I want it to fester in the back of your mind all night. I want you to cry yourself to sleep and beg to God that I'll change my mind by morning, but that's one thing I can guarantee -- my mind is set. I have waited too long to hear you scream."

He's drunk, Kiran reminded himself, squeezing his eyes shut briefly, opening them to stare out into the backyard, at the acres of farmland. Chuck did a shit-ton of drugs tonight and drank an entire bottle of 46-proof bourbon whiskey, and that was just when Kiran was out here with him. He spotted a half empty bottle of gin he knew had a seventy alcohol percentage.

He's gotten like this one other time before, but never kept up on his threats. The next morning, he had blamed his behavior on the hard liquor and crack cocaine.

Kiran took in a deep breath to steady his heart rate. He feared that one day Chuck would follow through with the threat of...Kiran couldn't even get himself to say the word -- the threat of assaulting him. He glanced around the yard. He had the tempting thought to run for his life, bolt it out and risk getting himself lost in the literal corn maze.

He'll be sober by morning. He probably won't even remember any of this. He never does.

"Go ahead," a stone cold voice urged him. Kiran hesitantly looked at Chuck. "Try to run," he said, "Davide will bring you right back to me."

The microchip. It was a tracking device.

Kiran dug his nails at the bump. He was more than willing to dig it free from his flesh. That was the reason he still had it -- how could he be so oblivious? If he pissed Chuck off or tried to run, Davide would easily deal with him.

The tears were building quickly and threatened to run down his cheeks, but he forced himself to hold them in, knowing that seeing him breakdown was Chuck's main wish.

It was so hard to stay strong. He felt utterly worthless and terrified.

Kiran shook his head. Chuck's blood boiled at the faint smile forming on the young boy's face. Kiran was laughing impassively again. He shut his eyes and shook his head.

"This is fucking ridiculous," he finally said and sighed heavily. He chuckled, mumbling to himself as he grabbed his shot glass that he thankfully didn't put on the coffee table but the end table. He had also sat a bottle of Crown Royal on the ground. He poured the remaining bit of whisky into the tiny glass, filling it to the brim before he tipped his eyes to the night sky. He raised the glass, toasting with the heavens, then knocked it back, grimacing it down his throat.

He groaned, continuing to shake his head, swiping his unfinished beer from the table. He took a big gulp.

"I'm going to bed," he mumbled, slumping passed Chuck, walking right through the door he had left wide open. "Talk to me when you sober up. I'm so tired of you."

Chuck stood motionless, his brows raised, bemused, as he watched Kiran mumble that he was hungry and grab himself a slice of cold leftover pizza from the fridge.

"Where do you think you're going?" Chuck snapped gravely, following him through the doorway. He snatched the screen door before it shut, letting it slam hard against the frame.

Kiran shrugged back at him, shoveling a bite into his mouth.

"I'm going to bed. I just said that."

Chuck's jaw was now trembling with anger. He continued to watch Kiran with a narrowed glare.

"That's funny," Chuck said with a bitter smile. "You think I'm joking. I'm not."

Kiran rolled his eyes, muttering something under his breath. He stopped short of walking through the revolving doors to slant a look back at Chuck.

"Oh, of course you're not," he mocked. "I'm so fucking scared."

Chuck's jaw twitched and he clenched his fists, drawing his left back. He stopped himself from swinging it through the air, even though his hand ached to land a hit. In order to satisfy some of the anger he felt, he whipped his hands across the surface of the island’s countertop, sending the papers and empty beer bottles flying.

Kiran snarled back at him to grow up.

Kiran was only able to take a few steps out of the kitchen before he was snatched at the wrist, dropping his food in the process.

"I'm not done with you," Chuck snapped, yanking him to his chest. Kiran stared back at him in shock. Chuck towered over him. He huffed, "You really are something else, you know that?"

Kiran ripped his arm out of Chuck's grip. "Yeah, so I've heard." He headed for the stairs, sneering, "Fuck off. I'm going to bed. We’ll talk in the morning." Chuck balled both his fists. He had the impulse to grab the boy by his throat and smash his head against the wall until he saw blood. Make him think twice before he ever disrespected him again.

He wanted to kill him.

Kiran got halfway up the stairs and cried out in shock when a set of hands snaked around his waist and he was knocked hard against the railing. He scowled up at Chuck, snapping, "Don't fucking touch me, you -- !" Chuck tightened his hold when Kiran hit his chest, making him regret it instantly. Chuck centered his weight onto Kiran's shoulders, pushing him until his back bent and touched open air.

For a second, the look of 'Oh, shit' painted itself across Kiran's face and Chuck grinned at the sight.

His wide eyes looked from Chuck to over his own shoulder and he stared down at the sofa positioned a good five feet under him. He'd survive the shortfall, but he'd still rather not fall at all.

"Chuck, stop," he whimpered back at his dead eyes and, getting no response, he screamed this time, “Fucking stop!” making the brash decision to slap the ever living shit out of Chuck. The first two hits twisted a scowl on his face but the third and fourth made him cuss and he loosened his grip. Kiran smacked him hard and pushed him away, booting it up the flight of stairs, stumbling into the dark hallway.

Hearing hasty footsteps hit the staircase, he sprinted to his room and ripped open the door, running inside. He slammed the door shut and felt the knob for a lock, but he didn't twist it fast enough.

The door suddenly buckled and he was knocked back.

“Stop!” he screamed but the word had only angered Chuck more.

“What did you fucking say to me?” He backed Kiran into the center of the room until he stumbled into the dresser. The flat screen TV swayed slightly, and again when he shoved Kiran hard on the shoulders. Kiran suddenly lost all his nerve, seeing how mad Chuck was getting and how violent it was making him get. He cowered back, clutching his arms to his chest.

“I'm sorry,” he whispered.

Chuck continued to taunt him. “You wanna do that again? Huh -- you wanna put your hands on me again? You think that's gonna do anything?” No answer. He pushed him again. “Huh? Fucking answer me -- if you're so big and bad, fucking do something.”

Chuck’s hand suddenly connected with the side of Kiran's face, and it took a second for him to realize Chuck had hit him. The tears welled in his eyes as he remained stiff, dropping his head to the ground.

“Chuck, stop.”

Chuck cupped his hand around his ear, leaning down.

“Fucking say it again. Tell me to stop. Go ahead.”

Kiran let his eyes glance quickly up at Chuck. It was almost as if he was looking at a completely different person. He was acting so different.

He had hit him.

Just like that -- he found himself once again in an abusive situation. Didn’t take long, did it?

Kiran suddenly gasped and the tears began to rush out.

“Please, stop -- what's happening?” he started to wail. “What's wrong with you? What's happening?”

“What's happening?” Chuck mocked, then suddenly he took a step back and furrowed his brows at Kiran. “Why the fuck are you crying?”

He sounded more annoyed than anything.

When Kiran looked up and gave him a confused look right back, Chuck’s eyes darkened and he scowled down at him.

“What's my problem?” Chuck laughed grimly. “What's your damn problem? You're the one over here fucking bawling. You want something to cry about?”

“Please, stop,” he whispered again, the tears building, the gasps starting to climb back up his throat. He was sobbing brashly again when Chuck gripped him by his shoulders, pushing him off the the side. Chuck snatched the flat screen TV into his hands and yanked it from atop the dresser. The cord connected to the back ripped out and he easily chucked it across the room like it was nothing.

He watched it land with a loud crack! against the closet door and grinned back at Kiran. He still stood huddle with his hands clutched under his chin.

“Oh, is that not enough?” Chuck scoffed. “Here, lemme just…” He came around to the right side of the dresser, and repeated the same act he had on the coffee table. He got a firm grip on the edge and struggled to lift it at an angle.

Kiran quickly cowered back towards the other side of the bed, wincing each time a drawer came tumbling out and landed loudly on the hardwood floor.

“Chuck, stop. Please -- just stop it!”

Chuck tipped it onto its side. “Shut your fuckin’ mouth! Stop crying -- god! No, you know what I'm gonna do?”

“What is wrong with you?”

Chuck picked up one of the drawers and flipped it so that the clothes that had yet to fall out tumbled to the ground. Once it was empty, he flung it off to the side. He picked up the second drawer but didn't empty it this time. He chucked it across the room, cursing out when it collided with the wall and smacked down on the flatscreen TV, ensuing another loud crack!

Chuck suddenly seemed to calm down again as he looked from the more than likely broken TV to Kiran. He was smiling, looking somewhat impressed with himself.

“Damn, did you hear that? Shit broke!”

He slapped his knees, continuing to laugh. Kiran stared at him, his crying slowly stopping. Chuck titled his head as Kiran lifting his hand, pointing his finger towards the bedroom door.

“Get out.”

Chuck raised his brow. “Excuse me?”

“Get the fuck out! Wait until you see this shit tomorrow.” He shook his head. “Get out.”

Chuck was taken back. “Oh,” he said, and Kiran could already feel the impending tantrum he was about to throw. “Oh,” he said again, turning his back to Kiran. He went over towards the other side of the room where the TV laid on under the mountain of clothing that spilled from the dresser drawer.

He repeated again, “Oh, I can't wait to see this!” He hiked his foot up and stomped it down, right through the center of the screen. The shards of glass went off like an explosion. Pieces landed in the bed.

“Stop!”

“And...this!”

He hurled his fist at the lamp sitting on the bedside table. It toppled over onto the floor, but was still alight. He grabbed it by the neck and yanked it from the wall, engulfing the corner in a dim darkness.

Kiran pressed his fingers to his temples, the panting breaths returning to him as his chest felt hollow with anger. He gritted his teeth, watching Chuck through tears.

Chuck threw the lamp to the ground and with another hefty stomp, the cover shattered and the light bulb exploded out of the opening. Chuck grinded his steel-toe boot down, making eye contact with Kiran.

“I'm excited to see all this shit tomorrow!” he grinned like a psychopath. “Lookin’ forward to it!”

“You…” Kiran could barely speak. His chest heaved as he tried to catch his breath.

“I what?” Chuck asked, striding back towards him. He bent slightly to get eye-level with Kiran, a big fake pout on his face. “Am I making you mad, baby? Huh? Oh, I'm sorry. Here, I'll leave.” He started towards the bedroom door only to grip it by the handle and slam it shut.

“Oops!” he exclaimed, holding his hands up in fake-surrender. “It was an accident! I swear!”

Kiran dropped his hands to his side, then gripped them through his hair.

“Get out!”

“This is my house!” Chuck snapped back at him. “All of this is mine. You are a guest. No. You...are mine. You don't tell me what to do.”

“Chuck,” Kiran tried to calm himself, squeezing his eyes shut. “Just get out. Please. We’ll talk tomorrow. We’ll be better tomorrow. Everything will be better tomorrow.”

“Oh, you want me to leave? Fine. Fine!”

Kiran watched quietly as Chuck went for the door again. He turned the knob and pulled the door open, stopping to smile back at Kiran.

“Bye-bye!”

He closed the door behind him. Kiran stood there in shock, preparing himself for Chuck to come barging back in, but there was only silence. He bolted towards the door, twisting the lock quickly.

Just seconds after the lock clicked, Chuck snapped, “Shit!” and the door buckled again. Kiran pushed his weight against it to make sure it stayed shut. Chuck persisted until suddenly the pressure from the other side stopped and all was silent.

Then Chuck grunted loudly, giving a final kick to the closed door.

"Open the goddamn door or I swear to God, Kiran, I will fucking kill you when I get in there."

Kiran kept his back pressed flush against the door, his chest heaving with each panting panic-filled breath. The sudden adrenaline had clouded his mind and he was in denial about everything at first, but as soon as the night's events replayed in his mind, he felt such a physical ache in his bones from disbelief.

Chuck hit him. He shoved him. He wrecked the fucking room, the kitchen, the patio.

He was such a douche.

Kiran's whole world felt like it was crumbling. His throat was tensing.

Kiran stared straight ahead at the window, tears stinging his eyes. This wasn't going to be the last time this happened. He knew that. He wanted to run through the window and take off, but the microchip...it'd all be for nothing. No matter how far he ran, Davide would find him, and what the two of them would do to punish him -- Kiran pushed the thought from his head.

He stared out the window with a new desire -- he wanted to jump and end his life.

Why was he acting like this? Everytime he drinks, sure he gets a little relentless, but he's usually all talk, no show. He hadn't gotten physically violent. Kiran knew that Chuck wanted nothing more than to hurt him, and God knows how.

It scared Kiran how quickly he was able to switch back and forth between a drunk asshole and now this more sober, remorseful asshole.

Chuck was grunting in anguish again and Kiran gasped, cowering towards the end of bed as Chuck barreled his fists against the door, punching and kicking it until his tantrum quickly wore him out, and there was silence again.

"Kiran," he chuckled, pushing his forehead against the door, hand gripping the knob. "Open the door, baby. Please let me in. I want to talk. I'm sorry."

Kiran stayed still and quiet.

"Please, angel," Chuck now pleaded. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have gotten like that. I'm sorry. Let me in."

"Well, no shit you shouldn't have acted like that."

Chuck didn't respond -- with anything. He sighed, leaning against the other side of the door, shoving his face into his hands. He fucked up. He was suddenly aware enough to acknowledge that. All the work he did to gain Kiran's trust, it was all gone in an instant. It was going to take time to gain even a fraction of it back.

Unbeknownst to Chuck, at some point he actually started to feel something for Kiran. There was a part of him that felt remorse. Kiran didn't trust him anymore. He was scared of him.

He hit him. Fuck. He hit him.

That's hard to come back from.

He shifted to press his forehead onto the wall.

"Baby, please," he said. "I'm sorry. Please -- can we just talk?"

"Leave."

"Angel –"

"Now."

A rush of anger fled through Chuck suddenly and he stepped back to kick at the door again.

"You shouldn't have told me 'no,' you stupid whore! You don't get to -- I shouldn't even have to ask. You're mine! I should fucking kill you for doing that!”

Then, as quickly as the anger came, it left, taking his self-control with it. Chuck's throat tensed and he groaned.

"Come on, Kiran," he whimpered, slurring slightly. "Let me in, baby. I'm so sorry. Please."

Kiran was going through the same rollercoaster of emotions. He was pissed and annoyed at how childish Chuck was being -- not to mention terrified. And what he had said, he was right. Kiran didn't get to object to what he wanted. He paid a shit-ton of money for him. Although not legally, he was his property. He has nowhere else to go, no one else to run to. He was stuck here with him.

He was his.

Maybe he should've just given in. None of this would have happened if he had just learned his place and stayed there.

The fear welled tears in his eyes and though he tried to hold them in, it took one gasp and then they started to fall.

"Please, leave," he whispered quietly. When Chuck immediately began to protest at the sound of Kiran sniffling, he continued with, "No, Chuck. Please go."

Kiran braced himself for the door to be forced open or at the very least Chuck voicing his displeasure, but at first there was nothing, and then there was a sigh and he heard feet shuffle against the carpet as he finally walked away. Kiran stayed put until he heard the door at the end of the hall click shut, but even then, he wasn't sure if it was safe to relax.

His lips quivered, and he fell back against the door. He crouched over trying to hold in his loud sobs, desperate to not make any noise. He didn't want Chuck to know how much his behavior killed him, but it hurt too much to keep it in. He dropped to the ground and let out a sob. He crouched over again.

He couldn't breathe; he gasped for air, but he never seemed to get a full breath.

He felt dumb for crying, for trying to hold it in and for letting it out, but he was so scared and confused.

How things had been, he had completely forgotten his original purpose in Chuck's life -- he was a toy. He overstayed his welcome by thinking he could refuse Chuck's advances, and now he was going to pay for it. He was stupid for thinking he meant anything to him. He was stupid for thinking he was finally safe, that all this bullshit was behind him and Chuck was something solid he could lean on, depend on.

He knew Chuck would be sober by morning, therefore forgetful of tonight's events. There was still that nagging thought in the back of his mind that told him the floodgates had opened, and things were never going back to how they were before tonight.

He was lost again. He was worthless; his life...it would never get better. He was always going to be treated like shit.

The reality settled numbly in the pit of his stomach and he slumped himself to the bed. The second he hit the mattress, he curled into a ball, disappearing under the covers.

He was supposed to take care of him. He promised.

Kiran remained huddled, crying until he couldn't cry anymore, and eventually fell asleep.

An hour passed before a loud noise startled him awake and he poked his head out to stare at the door. The knob turned slowly making the same rattling sound as before, then suddenly, with one final click, the door knob went still.

It began to turn slowly and the door creaked open. Kiran snapped his eyes shut and pulled the blanket back over his face. He could see through the sheet the outrageously bright light from the hallway and the shadowed figure that crept into the room. The light went off with a flick of the switch, engulfing the room once again in total darkness.

Feet shuffled over and stopped once they reached the side of the bed. Kiran tensed as the mattress shifted and Chuck's rough hand came up to lace through the tuff of his hair that stuck out from under the covers. He was gentle about it, moving his fringes to the side before slowly pinching the corner of the blanket between his fingers, edging it down.

His calloused fingertips traced along his jawline and then Chuck sighed.

Kiran waited for him to stand, leaving quietly, but Kiran's eyes fluttered open when Chuck's rough lips gently touched his forehead. He kissed him twice before pulling away.

Seeing that he had awoken Kiran, Chuck smiled softly down at him, but shied his eyes from his.

"I'm sorry, angel," he murmured quietly, caressing his thumb along Kiran's forehead. "I really am."

His breath reeked of liquor and his glossy eyes were still droopy from the high, but he came across very sincere. He was slowly coming down from being intoxicated, seemingly going back to his sober self.

Kiran laid there a moment in thought, wondering if he was being truthful or if it was just another facade. He could snap in an instant and then they'd be back at square one.

He placed his hand over Chuck's and squeezed it softly.

"I know," he began to say but Chuck sat back suddenly, yanking his hand out from under Kiran’s.

He attempted to stand but lost his footing on the pile of clothes that littered the ground, thanks to his dumb ass. “Fucking shit!” He tumbled back to half-lie on the bed, balling his fist. The f-word continued to be barked until Kiran sighed and Chuck went silent as they looked at each other.

“Ya done?”

Chuck took a second to nod, and in that second, he found another distraction.

He rushed to the bedroom door, gripping it so tight, he almost flew into the wall when he slammed it shut. As Chuck stood there, repeatedly opening and slamming the door, Kiran’s jaw started to shake from holding back the tears. He sighed to try and relax, but the tears started to pour again.

He was surprised to hear the same gasp for air come from Chuck. Kiran opened his eyes to see tears of frustration streaming down Chuck’s face...as he continued to slam the bedroom door.

Chuck finally seemed to lose momentum. He sluggishly yanked open the door, took a second, then slammed it shut. Took a second, pulled open the door, another second, he slammed it. He was now sobbing.

“I’m so angry,” he whimpered. “I’m just so angry -- all the fucking time. I’m so angry.” He opened the door and leaned against it, the blubbering cries continuing softly.

Kiran murmured back. "It's okay. I forgive you."

Chuck shook his head. "No.” He strided back over to kneel down next to the edge of the bed. “I shouldn't have done that. I'm sorry, angel," his voice crumbled into a sigh. He buried his face into Kiran's neck. Kiran didn't know why, but he couldn't move. He was kind of scared to. Under Chuck's weight, he wanted to crawl into a ball and cry, but he didn't want Chuck to know he was actually starting to be scared of him. Imagine how that would make him feel. Clearly, there’s already a few bolts loose in Chuck’s brain; he didn’t want to add to his list of problems.

Kiran hesitantly wrapped his arms around Chuck, pulling him in closer.

"It's okay," he said again, rubbing Chuck's back as reassurance.

Chuck whispered that he was sorry, he'd never act that way again -- and Kiran knew better than to believe him.