A/N: Ze aftermath. Did I break Kyle or keep him strong? Only time will teellllll. (I'm super tired right now don't ask)
Enjoy~
He couldn't help but wonder if he'd lose his hands in all this, if the constant loss of circulation would get to the point where his fingers would be completely useless. The redhead sniffled, blinded head hanging down as he sat, wrists secured behind him to the headboard. He was exhausted, body damp with sweat, tears, and Craig's fucking bodily fluid. He could smell it leaking off of him; staining his skin, an awful reminder that what he'd thought to be his universal truth had not come to fruition: Kenny was not the last person he'd ever smell like. The muscles of his legs were throbbing, utterly worn from being pushed up to his shoulders, spread on his knees, trying constantly to keep his balance as Craig threw him wherever he wanted to. He bit his lip, feeling a strong twinge in his right ankle from when Craig had thrown him onto the floor and he'd landed awkwardly enough to slam into the nightstand.
He didn't know what time it was, how much time he'd spent in this room, naked and bruised by Craig's possessive grip. He could only guess it'd been a few hours, the only kind of time check he'd been able to gather being how many rounds Craig went. He'd forced himself to stop doing that after the third time. He hissed as he shifted on the sides of his legs, lower back and ass begging for him to lie down and rest. The chill of the bars against his back only furthered the discomfort, reminded him just where he was: A prison.
He flinched as he heard slow footsteps approaching him once more, mind trying to fuel him with adrenaline, but reasoning beating the instinct down. He'd completely tired himself out going through the motions time and again. Fingers touched his chin and Kyle groaned, weakly pulling from the ridges of their prints, skin extra sensitive to every unwanted sensation. He whined under his breath as the blindfold was finally peeled off of him, a phantom feeling of the cloth lingering around his heavy eyes. Slowly and carefully, he let them flutter open. The world was blurry from darkness and tears, face pained as he scrunched them shut time and again to force himself to adjust.
"Come on, open up," Craig's voice called out with an eerie soothingness. Kyle gritted his teeth, facing away from him as he tried to open back to the world. His chin was caught and pulled back around, the redhead seeing enough to catch the clear sign of Craig's freshly showered naked form in front of him. He let out a sigh of disgust, glancing meekly at his captor's face. "There you go," he cooed.
He blinked as the fuzziness began to subside, looking to the clock on Craig's nightstand and feeling himself shaking. Five o'clock. He'd been chained like this for nearly seven hours. He jerked back as something pressed against his lips, nose flooded with the smell of a sweetly brewed coffee. He grunted as Craig sat next to him on the bed, petting his hair softly. "Come on, drink," he urged, tipping the mug against his lips still tinged with the other's saliva. Kyle blinked, allowing the beverage to cross the chapped threshold, throat painfully working to let the sustenance worm its way down. He did his best to ignore the fingers still twiddling through his curls, letting his body focus on the warmth rushing through him.
"You were so good today," Craig said, hand dropping to stroke his fingers along Kyle's collar, fixing it from its disheveled, turned state. He watched the name tag drop back to the middle of his clavicle, glimmering brightly in the lamp light beside of him. Kyle pulled back from the mug, taking long, deep breaths. Craig looked at the coffee half gone and chuckled, setting it on the nightstand and watching the boy. His eyes drifted to the array of hickeys and bite marks littering his skin, a collection that even McCormick would find to be overkill. Pride swelled in his stomach, hunger already rebuilding. He leaned forward and kissed his forehead, grinning against his skin. "So good."
Nowhere in his heart was there the temptation to speak to the boy, but Kyle's tongue betrayed him, voice rasped from screaming and pleading for so long. "Eighth...grade..." he panted softly.
"Hm?" Craig asked, brushing his bangs from his sweated face.
"You said...you...started this shit...in eighth grade. Why?" he whispered.
Craig smirked, fiddling with a curl and shrugging. "You helped me with my history report."
"Huh?" he blinked.
"The Intolerable Acts," he relayed simply. "You stayed behind from lunch to help me get why it was such a big deal," he shrugged again. "You were the only person who'd taken the time to help me." Kyle narrowed his eyes. This couldn't be happening. He seriously did not get fucked over by the goddamn British government of all people. Craig shook his head softly, "You kept fucking teasing me," he murmured.
He raised his brow, "Teasing you?" he repeated.
"Kept playing with your hair, biting your fucking pen. That stupid green pen that you always had tucked behind your ear," he stroked behind said ear genially. "You were always ready for things to happen," he said almost dreamily, lost in his eighth grade wanderings once more. "You were always the only one ready to deal with shit. I hated you for that."
He stared at him haltingly, wishing he could back up through the headboard and wall and away from the maniac holding him like a precious doll. None of it seemed to click, he just couldn't understand the extreme spectrum of emotion that every syllable and linger of his fingers bounced between. Kenny always called Kyle's feelings fickle, but this just seemed on an entirely different plane. "Why did you hate me for that? And if you hated me...why are you doing this?" he emphasized.
"I hated how you had control," he said, voice dropping dangerously. "You didn't deserve to be the one to have it. Everyone else was drowning and you were fucking floating along, only dropping lifesavers to whoever you felt was worthy."
Kyle blinked, "I wasn't fucking 'floating'," he protested. "I...I just-"
"Had everything planned to the letter for your life," he interrupted coldly. "Everything you wanted you got."
"I earned what I got," he hissed, panic steadily being replaced by flares of anger.
He narrowed his eyes, "You think you earned McCormick?"
"Yes," he bit. "I worked to get us to the point where we finally happened. Don't fucking sit here and tell me that you kidnapped me because I know how to make a fucking schedule!" he shouted.
"The problem was you never let anything else work into your fucking schedule!" he snapped back, Kyle recoiling against the bars and gulping as Craig's hands tightened around his throat and hair. "Even your fucking social interactions were planned," he rolled his eyes. "Couldn't get a fucking conversation with you if I ripped off your fucking ear and beat you with it. Or, maybe I would have if you weren't so busy chasing your little blonde prick."
Kyle sneered, "So that's it? I didn't give you a chance and so you think I owe you?"
"Yes," he said plainly. "You let me in once, but that was it. But it was all I needed," he scoffed dryly. "You need someone who can make your actual priorities apparent."
He looked at him uncertainly, "What priorities?"
He looked at him and smirked, "Do you know just what kind of person you are, Broflovski?"
"A really pissed off one," he growled.
"Exactly," he replied thickly. "You're an emotional wreck. If your plans go to shit, you go to shit. You're a sickly little scrawny fuck who wants to be the bull. You haven't figured out your place yet, under someone with actual control." he cocked his brow.
He glared at him, green flashing with danger that didn't phase Craig in the least. "If you want someone to be your subservient little housewife, you're fucking with the wrong person," he hissed.
"Seems to be working in my favor so far," he taunted.
"I'm smart enough to know how to survive, Tucker," he scoffed. "Surviving bides me time. And time is going to send Kenny crashing through your door and shooting your fucking head off."
"And there it is," he said superiorly, Kyle blinking in confusion. "You need someone. You can't get out of here by yourself," he stated sharply. "I'm not too fond of people who act like bigger shits than they are. And you're the worst of them all."
"Then why am I here?" he challenged furiously.
He shook his head, "Because, stubborn little omega dogs need shoved down into their place."
"Oh, talk about someone who thinks they're better than they are," he rolled his eyes. "You think you're some kind of alpha? You're just a rapist piece of shit," he spat. He yelped as Craig slammed him back against the bars, leaning down towards his face.
He shook his head disapprovingly, "When are you going to fucking learn to keep your mouth shut?"
"When I'm dead," he snarled.
He cocked his brow, "Oh really? Because I've seen you lose hope and go fucking catatonic, Broflovski. You think it'll take long to get you there?" Kyle frowned and he continued, "Remember where you are. Remember where McCormick is. He's under such high scrutiny right now he won't be able to get near me and you damn well know it. Who the fuck do you think is going to come for you? Marsh? Fatass?"
Kyle's shoulders sank and he looked back to the nightstand. If Kenny was under watch, there was no doubt Stan was right there with him. Anyone else wouldn't be willing to risk arrest for the 'possibility' of being him being trapped here. Shit. "They'll let up on him eventually," Kyle murmured.
"Think about how little goes on that the police get involved in around here," he rolled his eyes. "You think that the story of you vanishing is going to clear up anytime soon? With your mother?" Kyle cringed. He had a point. No doubt Sheila would find a way to keep interest in finding him high. Shit. Craig stroked over his temple and smirked as he watched the rage subsiding and the defeated exhaustion settling back onto Kyle's face. "You're staying with me for a long time," he promised, cupping his chin and pulling him back to look at him. "Get used to it."
"I'll never be 'used to it'," he said wearily.
Craig scoffed, "Then you better get used to having the shit beaten out of you."
He winced as the boy pressed into a bruise riding along his throat. He was so tired, he just couldn't seem to handle the information piling on top of him. Craig's lips brushed his brow and he grunted, jerking back slightly from the fire spitting from the touch. "You're fucking crazy," he whispered.
Craig rolled his eyes, cutting the tie connecting the redhead's wrists to the bed and lifting under him, smiling at Kyle's weak attempt to struggle before he simmered down, muscles rebelling too much to get enough energy to do anything but wriggle. He slowly carried him into the bathroom and set him down in the tub, Kyle staring at the porcelain with muggy eyes. Craig chuckled, switching the shower back on, watching him flinch at the water beating down onto his back and head. "Good boy," he said, getting up and walking out of the room.
Kyle continued staring in front of him, trying to ignore the disgusting state of his left leg as the balmy water continued to parade onto his beaten tender skin. He closed his eyes for a moment, feeling evidence of Craig's doing washing away and breathing in relief. He could take smelling like over-chlorinated water, it was definitely preferred between the options. He leaned his head back, feeling his curls becoming weighed down, the pureness running down his face in little trails, racing past his bruises, cascading over the damnable collar. This was what he needed: A fresh start. A reminder that he wasn't just Craig's fucking plaything, he was a human. A very stubborn human. With clean skin came a clean mind, a mantra that he'd held to for years. Fights with his mother or Kenny always sent him into the shower, letting the steam rising through his nostrils fill him with clarity as the issues of his day slid off of him, mere dust in the torrent of liquid swept away in the tide.
He just had to figure out the balance. How much he could get away with, how much he could 'earn' through Craig's trust before knocking him over and making his escape. There had to be something he could do. He grimaced at the zip ties reminding him staunchly that they were becoming part of his fucking wardrobe, and getting anything done with being trapped like this would be near impossible.
"Shit!" Craig said from the other room. Kyle's heart leapt with hope. It could be Kenny. He could be storming up the hill ready to whisk him out of here. He watched as Craig came back in and shut off the shower, ripping his half-cleaned form out and tossing him down onto the tiled floor. Kyle hissed, flinching as Craig quickly rubbed him as dry as he could manage. "We have some visitors coming," he murmured, running the cotton through his curls and shaking his head. The guys wanted to 'see him'. Which meant they wanted to look again for Kyle under the guise of 'hanging out'.
He sighed, seeing the hope flashing through Kyle's eyes and shaking his head. He grabbed under him and pulled him onto his feet, smirking at Kyle unable to keep his weight upright and crashing back onto the floor. "So much for fighting your way out," he murmured, picking him up under his legs and back. "You can't even walk."
"Fuck you," Kyle rasped, head leaning back and eyes shut in pain. The heat of the shower had awoken aches he didn't know he had. He hissed as he was thrown onto the bed now stripped of its sheets, shifting uncomfortably as Craig went to his closet, reaching in and up to the doorframe concealed in darkness. He grabbed the bottle and needle stashed carefully away, quickly filling his dosage and making way back to the redhead.
"Gotta make this quick," he murmured, shoving him over onto his stomach and injecting the serum before Kyle could even think of a protest. The redhead groaned, legs sliding on the mattress listlessly as he tried to find the sense to attack. Craig merely placed his materials back into their space and grabbed him once more, snagging the bungee cords along the way. "You'll be fine," he cooed.
"You fuck," he croaked, the pounding of his head subsiding, a sensation that filled him with dread. He'd miss his rescue. Again. He wriggled as best he could, groaning as Craig let him tumble into the couch compartment. The Jew hissed as Craig began to fasten him down, the feeling of cords once more wrapping around his bared legs sending him into an instinctual fit.
"Behave," Craig said sternly, slapping his ass sharply.
"Let me gooo," he whined.
Craig rolled his eyes, finishing tying him down and making way back into his room. Kyle hissed, feeling the world starting to fade and panicking. He couldn't lose his chance. Not again. He couldn't.
He didn't even notice as Craig came back, the noirette laughing softly at the conflicting storm raging in Kyle's acidic eyes; Fighting between his mindful self and the drugs spreading through his system. He reached in and refastened Kyle's gag in his mouth, seeing his jaw quiver with the need to bite on the invasive material. Craig quickly tossed in a blanket over his naked, secured form, tucking it in around him and petting his wet hair. "You'll come out as soon as they're gone," he assured him, shutting and latching the lid.
Kyle took long breaths through his nose, fighting so hard to keep himself grounded as he lied in the dark. He couldn't do this. He couldn't lose his opportunity with whoever was coming to the house. He heard the muffled sound of the cushions being situated on top of his wooden cage, eyes hazily focused on the minute airholes in front of him. 'Stay awake,' he weakly ordered himself. 'For you. For Kenny. Stay awake.' The mantra stayed strong for nearly five minutes before Kyle finally fell slack, eyes slipping closed as his body fell prey to the medication. He didn't hear Craig throwing the sheets and towel into the washer. He didn't hear the checklist that he went over aloud as he made sure he'd hidden all evidence of Kyle's existence. Lila's barking never stirred him. He never heard a mere fifteen minutes later when three separate new voices appeared, all of them sitting above him, not even a foot away from his innocent, restless slumber.
A/N: So close to being saved, Sweetie. So close. Craig is a crazy motherfucker and I love him for it. Getting obsessed over the littlest things he's out of his goddamn mind he's so much fun.
Thanks for R&Ring!