.

.

Torture is just a rawer form of sexual dominance, Klaus contemplates this to himself. Something done without rules and restrictions. He hurls out a mouthful of dark, shiny red fluid oozing in warm spit.

It's a damn shame these two lightweights aren't getting into it as much as he is.

"What's the point?" Hazel groans, dropping the heavy, steel pliers he twisted Klaus's nipple with. So far they've tried waterboarding, striking, burning, cutting him with knives. Lightweights. Klaus giggles, breathy and soft, and then whining distressed as Cha Cha's fist hits him in the face.

"The point is we got a job to do, Hazel…"

Ben gazes at Klaus's abductors from the television stand, dangling his legs over the edge, and then gazing pointedly at Klaus. His creamy, nude skin glistening and slightly tacky with perspiration. Blood dries up in Klaus's goatee and his sideburns, even against the thick bristle of underarm hair. It flecks like an artistic, grotesque splatter of paint against Klaus's broad and heaving chest.

"Enjoying the show?" Klaus whispers to Ben, avoiding eye contact, rocking his head from side to side. As if to an invisible, super-slow beat. Ben's features unmoved, but he sighs out an irritated noise.

"It's pathetic."

Klaus glances up through his lashes, scrunching his eyes. His lips twitching in amusement.

"Feels kinda good, to be honest…"

He should probably shut the ever-loving fuck up about his personal kinks, to Ben of all people, but Klaus can feel his arms prickling and his balls tightening a little, when the other man loses the decision to be reproachful, for once, smirking in Klaus's direction. Ben's dark eyes curious.

"Yeah?" he whispers back. "How good?"

"Like…" Klaus gulps, daze-eyed. Fuck. His voice rises and falls, dipping down, coming out in a state of euphoric lethargy. "Like everything's… swimming around in cotton candy."

Ben nods. "Just focus on me."

"Kay…"

Cha Cha stomps over from the bathroom's entrance, interrupting the divine moment and Klaus's too-long, admiring stare by whacking the top of his skull. "Man, shut the hell up!" she hollers. A furious scowl.

"Forget about them," Ben tells him immediately.

And, oh boyyyyy, Klaus likes very much to be ordered around. He can admit that. Between his instinct of running from danger blaring in Klaus's nerve-ends, to escape his female captor and her lackey, and the quick-flare heat pooling in his gut from Ben's sudden show of… prowess

Klaus squirms in his blood-stained towel, impatiently, twisting his confined wrists.

"G'dumnn… I'm hard as hellllllllllll…"

Apparently that's the wrong thing to say. Cha Cha snatches up the rope, slinging it around Klaus's throat and pulling with all of her weight. He chokes loudly, silently, his tongue wriggling out.

"Imagine it's me, Klaus." Ben reappears, nearer to him. Keeping the other man concentrating on anything else but the lack of precious oxygen. "My hand throttling around your neck. You can feel it when I'm breathing in your ear," he coaxes. "And you know all I wanna do is fuck you up against this chair."

He's never heard Ben say fuck before. Ohhhh.

"Peeeesse…" Klaus wheezes. The veins in his forehead bulging.

"You'd let me do it… 'cause that is the kind of guy you are, Klaus." Ben glances down momentarily at the lump in Klaus's towel. A glimpse of wet, ruddy tongue separating Ben's lips. "Perpetually horny."

"Iwunnnnettt…"

God, more than anything, Klaus wants to be in the ring of Ben's arms, groping hot, muscular thighs. He hasn't felt anyone inside him in weeks. Too-empty. He wants, needs, the sensation of Ben's cock slip-sliding over Klaus's ass, thrusting and filling Klaus to the brim, their fingers pinned together.

The rope jerks away from Klaus's throat. He gasps, wrenching violently for air, nearly rocking the motel's chair onto the ground. "This is a certified freak," Hazel comments idly from behind them.

"Yeah, he is," Ben says, but grinning affectionately.

Klaus's eyes clear up. He lets out a deep, guttural moan, straining and lifting his hips.

"Baby…"

"I'm not your baby." He's standing right next to him, looking like a goddamn snack in comfortable, dark layers, and Klaus cannot believe that it's possible to even get a friggin' kiss from the guy he has secretly daydreamed about and masturbated to. For years. "You're mine though," Ben adds conversationally. "Every second of every day, as long as I'm still around."

Oh, fuck. Klaus pants, and then gets strangled again, this time with Hazel grunting over him.

Ben's mouth drifts over his.

"Let go, Klaus."

The orgasm rips from him, spurting warm, dribbling cum all over Klaus's upper legs and ruining the inside of the sand dollar-colored towel. Klaus screams out, reaching a high octave, arching himself.

Cha Cha swears, grabbing the back of Hazel's white-collar shirt and dragging him out of view.

By the time Klaus realizes this, he's alone. His mouth slackened with pleasure. Klaus's head dangling backwards. "Shitting fuck…" Klaus declares, quivering, every muscle aching painfully. Goddamn withdrawal. He attempts to shake it off, noisily, flapping the skin of his cheeks and lips.

When he peers around for Ben is when Klaus discovers he is truly alone.

"Aw, fuck me."

.

.


TUA isn't mine. I'M A LITTLE OBSESSED WITH THESE CHARACTERS. DON'T LOOK AT ME. Prompt this time is "Klaus/Ben. The torturing/strangling scene from Klaus's POV and Ben talking him through his orgasm." and I took the opportunity to have fun with it ehehehe! Let me know if you liked! Any thoughts/commented welcomed!