-1Disclaimer: I don't own Secret Window. I never will, but I still love to think I make these stories up and they are a part of my brain.

Haha. Review. I love to hear reviews about how sick and twisted I am. Oh, the end isn't that happy, but there isn't anything like death. Just a little reminder that life is not always happy. So read, and enjoy, it won't take that long anyway.

Chapter 1: Sea Breeze Bath

Mort gave a heavy sigh. It had been sometime since he had last taken the time to just sit and relax in the bath.

He gave a small smile as he closed his eyes and heaved a deep breath of Sea Breeze soap that he was soaking in now. Shooter hadn't shown up for a while, which had given him extra time to write, which ended up being finished in a few months, thanks to the lack of distractions.

Mort gave a gentle laugh, his eyes still closed, and leaned back against the bath's back.

The water shifted slightly and Mort's face could feel a breath of cold air swim around him. His eyes shot open.

Shooter stood over the tub, making sure his gaze and Mort's gaze were looking at the same thing.

Mort stifled a scream by forcing his breath from coming out.

"Miss me?" Said Shooter with a cold tone.

Mort said nothing, still keeping in mind that Shooter's gaze was looking over his body from under the hat.

"Ya' didn't go an' think that I was gone, gone for good, now did ya?" His accent seeping into Mort's ears like a sponge.

"No…It…It was just…" He stammered. He wasn't really sure of what he could say7 to Shooter that wouldn't make him angry.

"Well sonny," He leaned in closer, his warm breath causing odd vibrations along his body, "Spit it out." He finished.

"I only thought that it was nice that you were gone." Mort said in a flurry of swift tongue movements.

Shooter leaned back, thinking for a second, then gave a wild smile, "That makes me fell sad. Ya goin' an sayen' such hurtful things." Shooter gave another smile, "Get up."

"Beg your pardon?" mort questioned him.

Shooter brought his hand to the side of his body then brought it back, holding a carving knife in hand.

Mort gave a shaky laugh, "Oh, I see." Then he stood up, not really caring that he was naked now.

"Good boy." He smiled at Mort. Shooter locked the bathroom door after motioning to Mort to get out of the tub.

Mort obeyed, not really wanting to die tonight. The worst thing Shooter could do was tell him to kill someone. But then again, he could also have him bend over. He gave a little whimper at the thought.

Shooter laughed, "Calm down. I wont be haven' ya' kill anyone…Today." He gave a thoughtful nod, "Though the second idea may not be that bad." He began to walk over to Mort, "If I told ya' at' bend over for me, would ya do it?" he asked.

Mort frowned, "As long as you hold that knife, maybe." He took a step back as Shooter drew up to him, almost touching his nose to his.

"Well now. I guess I'll be keeping the knife then." He chuckled a little then stepped next to the toilet seat.

Mort gave a little waver as he felt the heat of Shooter pass him.

Shooter turned to Mort, "Kiss me." He said in a gentle tone.

Mort began tot take a step back. When he felt the blade on his upper arm though, he stopped. "Kiss me." Shooter said again. There was force in his voice.

Mort felt the pressure deepen. Then he drew up to Shooter, their lips coming together so that they were planted firmly on the other man's.

Shooter gave a small smile under the kiss. Mort's scent drifted u to him and he groaned into the kiss a little.

Shooter noticed that Mort was pressing his lips down firmly so that no tongue could pass. Mort was acting very foolish.

Shooter bit down hard on his images' bottom lip. He sucked on it violently so that he drew blood. He groaned again when the taste of Mort's blood sailed through his mouth.

Mort had then been forced to open his mouth, the pain was too much for him. As soon as he opened his mouth to scream though, Shooter's tongue forced it's way in.

Their tongues slid past and over one another. There was no way that Mort was not enjoying the kiss, and when he groaned and pressed into the kiss more, Shooter smiled.

Shooter broke the kiss first. He looked at Mort's naked form and began to feel the growing bulge in his pants.

Mort gave a whimper when Shooter pressed it against his own.

Shooter took a moment to realize that Mort had been growing hard and seemed to be enjoying this. Shooter did not have the want to go over the whole process of anal sex with Mort just yet. He guessed that he would just force him to give him a blow job instead.

Mort gave a small cry when he saw Shooter begin to remove his own pants, the bulge coming out when Shooter slid down his boxers as well. He had not taken off his pants and boxers all of the way though, he figured this wasn't going to last too long.

He sat down on the toilet, "Give me a blow." He said. He couldn't help but smile a little at the way it sounded and how the words came out as Mort gave him a scared look. He watched as Mort shook his head in a 'no' motion. He rose again and quickly pierced the shoulder skin on Mort's body.

Mort gave a cry of pain then shot his hand up to hold the cut. "Why did you cut me?"

"Because, ya' were bein' a dumb ass." Shooter said with a calm tone. He glanced at Mort's groin. His hard on was becoming thicker. Shooter silently began to think, 'is he really getting a rise out of the pain I'm giving him?'

Shooter took his knife to Mort's cheek, "Down on all fours. If ya don't want me at do anything to ya, then be a good boy."

Mort's glare of hate caused Shooter to smile. Yet Mort got down on all fours.

Shooter sat back down on the seat and repeated his demands, "Suck me off, and play with yourself."

Mort bowed his head, trying to hide the dark red blush on his face as he crawled over to Shooter.

Shooter watched the cut in Mort's shoulder bleed as he crawled over to him. He could tell the cut was going to scar. Well, at least Mort was going to think twice before disobeying him again.

Shooter opened his legs and let his cock sit there, waiting for attention.

Mort took a deep breath before he opened his mouth and took it in.

Shooter gave him an encouraging pat when Mort began to groan on the shaft, which sent vibrations down it, and up into Shooter's body.

Shooter moaned when Mort wrapped a free hand around his balls. The other hand of Mort's was still doing nothing though.

"Touch yourself." Demanded Shooter.

Mort gave a groan and whimper through the mouth full of cock, "Mffinmm…"

"What?" Shooter asked. He grew mad because he then had to take Mort off of his cock.

"If I do…I'll explode." Mort said. His voice was faded.

Shooter laughed, "That's what we're here for." He shoved Mort back onto his cock.

Mort grabbed himself and began to pump. He pumped in time with his movements as his speed increased.

Mort released first, getting most of it on his hands and the floor.

Shooter released into Mort's mouth. As he did, Mort tried to pull away. Shooter prevented it by holding his hand in place, "Swallow it."

Mort obeyed when he felt the knife once again press against his cheek, "Good boy." Shooter said as he let go of Mort.

Mort backed away from him at once, cum dripping from a corner of his mouth. Shooter laughed, he would have licked it off, had he not been so tired.

Shooter got up and then but his pants on. As he walked out of the room through the door he caste one last glance at Mort. He smirked and said with a hint of malice, "I'll never be gone. I even believe I found a new reason to stay." His laugh could be heard as he walked down the long hall, away from the hurtful Mort.

End.

That's it. There is nothing more. If you want more of these kind of fanfics, then review this friggen story. Yeah! See you later. No flamers. Thanks. Bye.

-D.D.Darkwriter