Title: Highly Classified Information
Chapter: Valentine's day isn't mentioned in prisons (for good reason).
Rating: R Adult content
Pairing: James Bond(2012movie) X Renard (1995?)
Summary: V-Day! It would appear that Renard still has info on future plans, and 007 intends to use all means necessary to gather said info. However, what's a tape recorder and possibly hidden emotions have to do with all of this? Rape. MXM. Prison. ADULT.
Warning: Male to Male contact. Rape. Violence. bondage. Force. 007 from 2013 movie version. Renard's already caught and in jail. Alternate universe. This is Adult content, do not read if you get easily offended by mxm, sex, rape or anything that has made you cringe in the above or below mentioned paragraphs. I like to write about rape, and what's better is that in fiction, I can do it to anyone I fucking want to. Especially if I'm asked really nicely! Blood!
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from any of the James Bond movies, and I do not make any profit from this story. The only thing that I mostly own anymore is my own mind. Other than that…It's pretty much everyone else around me…
Other: Created for the 2013 V-Day challenge. Hoping that I'll be able to post, and hoping that other's actually read and review this story…I hope that you all enjoy this piece of work, and have a disgusting Valentine's day.
Renard gave another scoff, and his side was suddenly forcing his knees to buckle out from under him. Although he's aware that he cannot feel the pain, simply because his body had finally refused to continue standing upright, Renard was able to deduce that maybe his body had finally met its limits. Glaring again, he leaned back on his calves, looking tiredly up at the man before him. "Is this the only reason you've come here?" He shoots out, and realizes that the man in front of him is glistening with a slight curiosity.
"I need to know about those documents, Renard…And M has given me permission to retrieve the information by ANY means necessary." James Bond is always as stern and smooth no matter what situation he is in. However, this new look of worry and something else seem to distract Renard only momentarily.
"Mr. Bond." He scoffed out, and leaned forward slightly, his shackled hands firmly pinned against his body by the leather restraints that keep them there. "You're more than welcome to torture me…But you'll find I've nothing left to say…My plans died with Elektra…Just as you'll die when I get my revenge on you." His eyes narrowed at the blue eyed man as he straightened up in front of him.
"I do not believe that there is any amount of torture I could put you through…However, Renard…I've not fully run out of ideas. I'm capable of improvising with what I'm given…" James Bond's voice held a rather low, suddenly husky voice to it, and Renard found himself listening intently as the man suddenly smirked down at him, his half lidded eyes causing a shiver of curiosity to develop within his head. "And you do provoke some very…Interesting improvised ideas…"
Renard watched as Bond rubbed his hands together quickly, the man slowly taking a few steps towards him. His crisp looking suit was slowly being removed, Bond taking the time to hang it up on the back of a lone chair in the room. His slender body easily shifted out of the coat, and his short dirty blond hair shagged slightly as he swung back towards Renard, those blue eyes glistening with something that forced Renard to bite his tongue against.
A table positioned itself perfectly adjacent to a single door, a light covered in a dingy coat of dead bugs and mold cascaded down and allowed the only rays of light in the small room. There were no windows, and no two way glass mirror that Renard would normally recognize in an interrogation room. This room was more like a solitary confinement cell, exempt from padded walls and adorned with at least one light. Why the hell were the two men here? "This is getting redun-"
"I- hope you don't mind…But this conversation is going to be recorded. This way, at any point in time, if you wish to state any sort of condemning information about future-"
"What the hell is going on?" Renard seethed out when he watched Bond set the recorder on the table, and turn back to him, removing his clothes and once more starting his descent towards the hunched over man. One of Bond's eyebrows were arched up, as if curious about something. "I've told you…My intentions di-"
"But it's not what I'm looking for. A criminal bent on control and domination isn't going to simply stop with such chaotic ambitions simply because his girlfriend died." Bond said, his blue eyes shining down onto Renard's body.
The slightly smaller man glared up at him, then quirked his lips into a rather devilish smile, "By my account, she was your girlfriend too Mr. Bond…Tell me, does every one you fuck end up dieing or going to jail…" His eyes narrowed dangerously when he saw Bond's lips twitch slightly, an aggressive action by Renard's account, and this realization only caused him to continue with his jeer, "Perhaps it's all recompense for the constant betrayal you so easily fall for by your little…One night stands? Can they be called that much?" He laughed slightly, yet cautiously listened to the sound of the small exhale of breath the other man gave out.
"Well Renard…I suppose we'll find out…"His words were muttered, and when large brown eyes suddenly watched shining blue ones, there seemed to grow an uneasy tension in the room. "Unless of course you feel that you have valuable information to disclose to me…In which case we can both by pass this entire…situation." The sidedness in the voice gave no indication that Bond wasn't interested in his new found idea, yet the man on his knees found nothing clear of what the other was talking about. Renard shuddered again in considering the idea that maybe he had said a little too much to the other man.
"What are you talking about?" He asked, his voice snapping suddenly.
Bond simply smiled, allowing one of his hands to fall onto his belt strap while the other began to loosen the leather and buckle. Slowly, Renard watched as Bond began to unbutton the first barrier, soon following with his zipper, the only sound a light scoff and the sound of metal separating metal. Renard chewed his lower lip, his eyes narrowing suddenly at the other man, "What the fuc-"
"Restrain yourself from such vulgar language Renard…We are being recorded after all." Bond's voice was hard, and yet held a very thick accent of humor and enthusiasm over the worried expression suddenly consuming Renard's face.
"I demand to know what's going on." Renard hissed out with a bitter anger, leaning further back from Bond's approaching body.
"I need valuable information…You're the only person who knows what Electra's other plans may have been…Or your own…I'll get it from you, Renard, one way…or another." His hand was already fumbling within his pants for something, and Renard, fully aware of Bond's human anatomy, gave a shudder at what the man was fumbling for.
Shifting completely back, Renard rocked himself off of his feet, his ass falling into the hard cement ground underneath him. "Keep away Bond." He growled with a warning, and he pressed his nose back in an aggressive manner. The double 0 agent seemed to pay no heed to the man's threat, but rather took it in a delighted manner, taking the extra time to pull his already half hard organ free from his pants.
"I mean it!" Renard yelled out, his back pressing painfully against the wall as he did so in an attempt to keep himself from getting any closer to Bond. The man only shifted his hand forward, grabbing for Renard's slightly long hair, the man's head no longer bare, and allowing Bond to grasp a good amount of it in order to yank him forward. "Fuck…" The ex- criminal seethed, though it was more or less out of frustration then it was from pain. The tug caused his body to jerk forward, and Renard guessed that Bond's strength was going to get rougher if he didn't comply further. "I don't know anything- I was meant to die…Remember! For her!" He yelled out when he saw that Bond's cock was now being aimed towards his face. He kept his glare towards the man's face, watching those blue eyes gaze down at him.
"I remember…" The man seemed to lower his voice with a hint of curious danger tinting it, and Renard was once again reminded of how he hated James Bond. The man was nothing more than an old washed up pervert, stealing his ambitions, his girlfriend, and even his physical ability to feel. Now the man was trying to take away what little pride he had left. Why did Bond hate him so much?
"If you feel at any time Renard, that you're suddenly more compliant to relay to me the information that I need to know, you simply need to slap my thigh three times-" He laughed suddenly and rolled his eyes, "Well… I imagine that it'll be hard for you to slap my thigh with your hands bound up so tightly but I think-"
"I swear to God, I'll bite your dick off if you put it in my mouth." The man seethed out dangerously, his brown eyes shooting invisible flames at the other.
"I guarantee that if you do any such actions, I will further your 'involvement' with my 'dick.'" James Bond stated out with an amused air about him. His eyebrow quirked up and he seemed highly intent on either one of the ideas. Renard watched as those blue eyes seemed to seek a lower area along his body, as if seeking out something hidden away. The blush along Renard's face only seemed to cause James Bond to smirk back, a few teeth appearing in order to glisten in the dull light of the room.
Renard glared up at him, and once more was forced to lean his head back, this time incapable of keeping his mouth closed due to the jerking action Bond was forcing onto his body. His lips parted, he nearly gagged when a thick organ was suddenly thrust into his mouth. Trying to draw back, Renard shoved his tongue against the tip of Bond's cock, trying hard to close his eyes and not gag against the taste. The tip of Bond's cock only thrust deeper in, Renard desperately yanking his head back and being met with another thrust forward by Bond's hips.
His teeth scraped delicately against Bond's member, and Renard was met with a harsh hiss that passed over Bond's lips. The cock in his throat was pulled from his mouth, and Renard leaned forward, shoulder leaning against Bond's strong thighs. The man braced against the agent, and Renard couldn't help but spit the salty saliva from his mouth. Gasping, he tried hard to hold back the hot tears tearing at his sockets. "Have something to tell me, Renard?" Bond's voice above was harsh, a sarcastic velvet encasing his tone.
Renard began pulling himself back up, the action slightly difficult due to Bond's hands still enclosed around his hair. "Th-This is pathetic." He shot out, once more curving his eyes into orbs of anger and frustration. Growling lowly, he watched Bond's lips curl into a contorted smirk, as if the man were completely consumed in the activity. "You're enjoying this." Renard shot out. "This isn't about any fucking pla-" His hair was pulled back once more, and he was silenced when his neck was suddenly grabbed by Bond, air being cut off.
The man's blue eyes shimmered for a second, Renard watching as they looked over his face as the man struggled to breath. His parted lips and gasping breaths only hindered his worry about the other's intentions. "Yet if you feel that you need to inform me of anything…criminal going on…Do share." His snarky tone only sent another shiver up Renard's spine, and the man was frozen in place when the leaner man moved in closer, his eyes sliding shut as his awkwardly soft lips crashing against his own.
Bond deepened the kiss by slowly licking his tongue over Renard's already forcibly parted ones. Incapable of pulling his face away, Renard took the kiss and regretfully allowed for Bond's tongue to slip deeper down his throat. He was tentatively aware of Bond's hand shifting ever so slightly next to his sides, however, he was unable to feel exactly what they were doing behind himself.
The hand around his neck was no longer there, and Renard leaned back at another attempt to get free. He found no fight when he finally fell once more onto his ass, chest heaving and clutching for air. "Th-" His breath caught against as he watched Bond start to move towards him again, this time his hand stroking over his cock again. Renard shifted backwards, his bound hands and back landing against the dingy wall. There, he chewed his lip, cursing himself for not trying to roll under the table and make a run for the door. Not that it would be open, but at least he may be able to get someone's attention…
He dragged a deep breath into his lungs, and with a husky shout, began to scream. "Stop!" His voice reverberated out, not sure if he wanted anything more to be erupted from his lips, in case someone were to actually catch onto the situation. His eyes were steadily placed on Bond though, watching as the man seemed to stop in all of his actions in order to stare curiously back at him. When there was a moment of silence, where Renard seemed to pause in worry, he saw a rather dark look stream over Bond's eyes. In a second, Renard's lips were once more parted, and he was trying hard to let out another wave of verbal dislike when he saw the flash of growing intensity erupt within the agent's body.
Bond was faster though, and was once more upon Renard before the man could flinch out of the way. "Let's help you with that screaming issue then…" His voice was sarcastic and filled with something close to anger. Renard could do nothing as the organ was pushed into his mouth again, this time his head being slammed into the wall in back of him. He could hear ringing, his vision blurred for a moment as he shivered himself back awake.
Rocking forward, Renard slowly looked up to see Bond pulling his chin closer to his organ, his lips lazily parted due to the impact from behind. Being unable to break free, Renard once more was forced to accept the organ into his mouth. He glared at nothing, his eyes once more squeezing shut as Bond slid himself deeper into his mouth, Renard's stomach shivering with anticipation to throw up should Bond shove any deeper into his body.
Bond's force was overwhelming, Renard's head finally falling free and being met with a wild thrust of Bond's hips bucking into his face. Renard tried to pull back, a weak attempt at alleviating some of the wild actions. "Come now Renard…Not all so unfeeling now…are you?" The words were muted, and Renard wasn't sure if he heard them the correct way or even in the right order. He was positive that the man's hand was moved back behind his head though, the thrusts suddenly much slower and more shallow.
Eyes parted when Renard realized that his chin was being picked up, along with the thick member still within his mouth. "Eyes up Renard…" The tone was nearly lost, and when Renard tried to glare up at the blue eyed devil, there was a light blush that suddenly pushed its way onto Bond's face. The double oh agent's cum was spilling into his mouth and down his chin as the ex-criminal watched the way Bond kept at least one eye open in order to watch his release into the other's moist cave.
When Bond was spent, and the grip released his head, Renard pushed forward again, spitting out anything that was still in his mouth. He gasped and grimaced when he saw the thick white globs of cum drip onto the ground. He shivered when he choked again, slightly relieved that his throat was contorting in order to gag up the vile fluids. Renard curled over, his body shaking when he glared at his knees. "You shouldn't waste such good things now, Renard." Bond's voice was heavy, and the villain looked up in order to see the man bending down, lowering himself to his own level.
Renard saw two fingers gingerly dab a puddle of fallen cum. As they lifted from the ground, a thin trail followed them before glistening a moment and then breaking off. Renard glared at the two fingers that were now moving slowly towards his mouth, a good mound of cum still sticking torturously to them. "Open." Bond's voice was as demanding as ever, a thick suaveness still dwelling over the word as was Bond's verbal custom.
Flinching back, Renard kept his glare on the fingers. Knowing that if he said anything, Bond would more than likely force them in, the ex-criminal was content with staring him down.
However, Bond's blue eyes seemed to twist with delight, a smirk crossing over his face and causing Renard to grimace once more. "So it is then…" He said, and began to stand up. "I'll not allow it to go to waste…If you wont take it through your mouth, another way can be offered…" His voice was as deep as his sneering face, "I'm sure of it."
"Wait!" Renard hissed out, watching as Bond began to use the slickened fingers to coat his cock with the liquid. He saw the way the organ began to tense again, and a fear shook it's way to the top of his body, causing Renard to widen his eyes, "What- What do you want me to do?" He asked, catching the other man's attention, "What can I say? Huh? What words, what meaningless jumble of phrases do you want me to yell out to you in order to stop these pitiful actions?" He saw Bond begin to raise an eyebrow, absently stroking his cock in the process. "What can I do to make you leave me the fuck alone?" He growled, as if it would be enough to make Bond stop with the intense gaze he was suddenly giving him.
"Tell the information Electra gave to you before her death…Before you two parted ways." He said, his voice suddenly dropping to a low whisper, "Tell me the confidential list of names-"
"What names? What file?" Renard could not feel his face warming, but he was well aware of what he currently was portraying facial feature wise. Red was more than likely streaming over his cheeks, anger brimming to the top of his body as he began to fumble into a standing position. Bond gave no indication of helping him up, simply watched as the man slowly managed to get to his feet without the use of his hands. "You and I both know you're making this up…I don't know why, Bond, but this is some sort of a game to you…" His eyes narrowed, and Renard knew that his voice was dangerously close to a vengeful threat.
"This is a very serious mission that I'm on." Bond's voice was deathly cold, and his eyes flashed with a steely blue, one that Renard could have mistaken for pure hurt and anger. He felt his throat dry though, the feeling of frustration filling his body.
"Mission?" Renard asked, feeling his shoulders slump slight, his gaze falling quickly over to the recorder sitting on the table in the room. "This is a mission? THE James Bond is on such a mission? One that consists of not only assaulting me, after everything I've already done…As well as do a decent job at humiliating yourself? Is this what the MI6 has finally molded you into-" Renard's face was hit violently, the impact from Bond's fist making sure to leave a rather vivid looking bruise along the man's face. Taking the hit, Renard drew backwards, once more coming to lean against the back wall. He paused, eyes watching over a rather flustered looking Bond, the man's eyes burning and his face tinted with a light blush. Renard laughed lowly, a small chuckle escaping his lips. "Have I offended the oh-great Bond? Remember, I can't feel such shallow things." He growled out, feeling the weight of his body sudden grow heavier.
"Don't you ever speak about MI6 or myself like you know either one. You have no right in the category." Bond began to lean back, straightening the cuffs of his shirt and running a hand through his hair. His blue eyes quickly skimmed over to the recorder, but Renard saw him quickly draw his attention back in his direction. "As for information, it seems that you're as ever reluctant to keep it to yourself. I'll take more drastic measures, Renard…" A thin smile crept onto his face, and Renard leaned backwards into the wall as if it would hide him. "So, what do you say we see if you're as soft on the inside as you are on the outside?" Those white teeth gleamed in the dimly lit room.
"I don't wa-" Bond moved forward, grabbing at Renard's neck and yanking him forwards. Renard gasped, trying desperately to pull back.
"I think now would be a bad time for you to begin talking." Bond's voice was sharp as Renard's body was pulled towards the table, his feet stumbling as he tried to fight against Bond's grasp. Bond's reluctant tugging proved to be much more than the bound man could handle. Soon enough, Renard was being bent over the table, his face inches away from the recorder. Trying to pull up on his body, Renard found that at least one of Bond's hands was pressing his lower back into the table, securing no escape for the other man.
He felt his body shifting, and soon enough, Bond was laughing lightly from above him somewhere. "It's too back you couldn't at least properly clean me up before we did this." Renard arched his back, trying to look behind himself. His gaze caught the image of Bond's hand holding the cuffs on his hands firmly, and two white mounds that were currently being eyed up by the blue eyed agent.
"Wh-" Renard didn't finish his sentence. Instead he leaned his head against the table, his breathing hitched. He closed his eyes and knew Bond was kicking his knees apart, more than likely in order to make sure he was fully exposed.
"What? You're not going to protest anymore? No more snarky remarks? No more complaining…No false accusations against Elektra to try and get out of this one last time?" Bond's voice was heavy and so close to Renard's ear, the man was almost tempted to try and lean his head up in order to bust the other's lip. He gave no such action though, simply braced himself against the table, keeping his eyes closed and trying to calm his body.
Bond's hand pulled up on the chain bounding Renard's hands together, yet even as the man was pulled off of the table slightly, he still ignored the other's attempts at trying to get his attention. "Oh well, I'll just have to entertain myself I suppose." Bond's voice was hard, holding scorn and a little bit of arrogance to it.
Renard angled his head so that his chin was resting against the table, reluctant to let Bond see his face. He was aware of the other making wet sounds against his hand, wondering if he was maybe coating his dick in an extra layer of saliva before he did whatever he desired. A few more minutes and Bond was whispering out a few muffled words, probably beginning to enter Renard's body.
Renard was forced forward into the table, his hip bones hitting against the metal, but otherwise going unnoticed. "Huh!" Renard gasped out, unable to keep his words hidden. His eye lids parted and he was surprised by the tiny amount of feeling Bond's cock had caused within his body. The man, having shoved in so deep, was now hitting against his prostate, and although Renard was sure Bond was being more aggressive, the dulled feeling his mind was receiving was that of a pleasant one. He rocked his hips back, forcing more of the organ deep into his body, Bond allowing a small chuckle of scorn to pass over his lips.
Renard ignored it though, taking more of a relish in the feeling he thought he had forever lost. He was consumed by the idea that even this feeling and course of action was slightly wanted, given the outcome it was currently delivering to his body. "Looks like my cock's just right for your tight entrance…By the sounds your making, I can assume you've never done this with another man before?" Bond's voice was tight, and Renard was barely listening to him as he panted against the table, his eye just opened enough to see the recorder lying right next to himself.
Shame filling his body, Renard tried to aim his head the other way. "Please- Bond…Turn off- the- the recorder." He huffed out, listening to the small 'tsk tsk' sound that Bond gave off.
"It's evidence Renard. What if you decide-" He kept delivering powerful thrusts to the other's body while speaking, Renard hearing the labored breathing hanging over his words, "-to confess."
"Damn it- Bond." He gasped out, his body suddenly rising off of the table. Bond was pulling back on his restraints, causing Renard's body to shift in its angle. The ex-criminal was well aware of the small throbbing in his ass, boiling with warmth and ecstasy. He closed his eyes and tried to drag more of that feeling out of his current situation.
"So needy all of a sudden. If you could hear the way you're panting…The way you're body's shivering against my cock…Renard…You would be so ashamed of yourself." Bond's deepened tone was ragged, and Renard tried to angle his head downwards, catching a glimpse of his own cock.
Bond was pumping him in time with his own thrusts, his cock thick and solid within Bond's grasp. He saw the pre-cum leaking from the tip, and gave a shuddered gasp when he saw Bond's thumb dancing over the head of the mushroomed tip. "That's right…I still owe you some 'sweets.' Although it's not my own, seeing as how I'm currently buried deep in your ass right now…I don't assume you have a deep issue with tasting yourself." Bond's hand released his cock and drew the slickened thumb up to Renard's lips. The man's mouth was dry, but for the life of him, he was too tired to try and actually fight against the digit.
It slipped into his mouth, more than likely pressing against his tongue. "You can't feel it, can you Renard? The way you're sucking on my finger, is a lot like the way your ass is sucking on my cock." His words were hard, and finally, Renard was dully aware of his body shivering and rocking him forward. Instantly, he was let go of, his shoulders hitting against the solid top of the table, supporting his body as Bond continued to drive himself into it relentlessly.
Renard's cock dripped puddles onto the ground, the cum spotting around his knees and legs in some areas. "I'm going to fill you up Renard…Please do remember the feeling, and who made sure that it happened." Bond said, and Renard was met with another rush of sensation. It only lasted a second, yet Renard's mind burned the feeling into his head, as if it were a very long and forgotten thing. He laughed lightly against the table, waiting for Bond to relax himself out of his entrance. The man was breathing heavily, hands more than likely on either sides of his body. He did nothing to try and stand though, simply laid there against the table in order to think over the situation.
"Allowing petty emotions like jealousy and sought-after ideas to cloud and control your life Bond…It's not becoming of you at all." Renard's words seemed tired, and his body was already refusing to move again. He knew that if he wanted to simply stand up and fight off the physical command to sleep, he could. However, he withheld the urge to stand up, but continued with his words. "This is what you've become…" He whispered out, looking over at the recorder. "This will never reach your darling little MI6 headquarters, will it? I imagine it'll sit in a drawer besides your bed…or nestled next to a secret compartment on a microchip…" Renard laughed again, feeling his body being slumped over.
Bond was shifting him so that he was seated in a chair. "I don't know what you're talking about-"
"You can't trick a trickster, Bond." Renard said, feeling his breathing hitch for a second before he watched Bond put himself away and then continue to pick up the recorder.
"Whatever you think this is…It's not. You didn't give me the information I needed, I'll just have to-"
"Come back again another day?" Renard cut him off, glaring up with a slight hint of mockery. His lip curled up to the side in a sneering fashion and saw the rather confused look coming over Bond's face. "If you're going to come back just to fuck with me, or rather fuck me…Don't. Bond, you can't have everything you want-"
"If this were an ideal world I could." Bond said, taking his turn to cut him off. "You're just contained to a cell, a very modern, very containing cell…Don't you forget that Renard. You've no life outside of here." Bond's blue eyes seemed to look away. "I'll question you if I want to. Until you decide to give me the information I'm looking for Renard, you can bet on it…You can bet I'll be coming back." His voice was suddenly deeper as he moved towards the door and knocking five times. "And I'll be coming back in about five days, maybe sooner depending on how much your body has healed after todays 'interrogation.'"
Renard glanced down to his thighs, noticing a small pool of cum and blood leaking lightly over the edge of the chair. He took a second to feel repulsed by the image, but soon found it less notable when he heard the door to the vault like room open and shut locked again.
Bond was once again gone, and Renard leaned back in the chair, gritting his teeth as the previous sequence of events rush through him again. He thought desperately for a reason as to why Bond hated him so much, or rather why the man was in so much denial over his concealed emotions. Biting his lip, Renard wondered dully why he felt like he was the man with more feelings than the double 0 agent.
Began: Unknown- Sorry
Finished: 2/10/13 3:54pm
End! Or is it? I feel that if this had a sequel, it would have something to do with Renard managing to break out, or Bond visiting him again, depending on the reviews that is! Tell me some 'wish list' ideas you'd all like to see! Thank you so much to those of you who are still following me and went through the hassle of actually reading this all of the way through. As always, if you make requests, I enjoy seeing and hearing about them. Thank you, Goodnight. Hope that you all enjoy your Valentine's day!
-D. D. Darkwriter
A few years late, but when I heard you were coming home, I made sure I would be around, gun in my hand, to greet you with a smile on my face.