Title: Heaven's A lie
Author: Reno
Fandom: Resident Evil 7: Biohazard
Setting: Baker Family Estate
Pairing: Lucas Baker/Ethan Winters
Characters: Lucas Baker, Ethan Winters, Mia Winters, Zoe Baker, Jack Baker
Genre: Hurt/Comfort/Romance
Rating: M
Chapters: 1/1
Word Count: 1376
Type Of Work: One-Shot, Part of the For All These Times series, Whump Fic Bingo fill #1
Status: Complete
Warnings: Gay, Slash, Yaoi, MLM, Non-Con Kissing, Gore, Blood, Vomit, Sick Fic, Comfort From Whumper, Whump Fic Bingo, Trauma, Traumatic Experiences, Canon-Typical Violence, Mostly Canon Compliant
Disclaimer: I don't own anything.
Summary: The last thing that Ethan needed was Lucas's comfort, but that didn't mean he was going to deny him. He didn't have it in him to fight right now.
AN: Hey guys, it's me again! Just thought I ought to say, if you want vague updates and to talk to me more, I have a writing Tumblr, too! Twitter is Sunshinecackle, and Tumblr is Writteninsunshine! I also have a writing Discord that is currently pretty dead. xD If you want it, please contact me on Twitter!
So, I was looking for a good whump fic bingo I could use for Ethan, since that man can take a beating like no one else. I didn't find one I liked, so I made one myself. Requests are open for it, and only three slots are taken out of twenty-five, so please give it a look? People on FFN can PM me for the link or search HimboHungry on Twitter. It's under my pinned! Warning, it's a NSFW twitter.
Here we go: /HimboHungry/status/1391276875415269379
With that, here goes nothing!
Heaven's A Lie
There was no fighting it, now. Fatigue crept into every fiber of his being, and his eyes could barely stay focused and open. Pain wracked his body, and there was a distinct collection of saliva in his mouth, leaving him nearly drooling as he gasped for air like a man drowning, lost at sea.
Heaving shoulders and a lurch in his stomach had Ethan crumpling to the grass, hands and knees bracing him against the dewy turf. The humidity of the swamp around them didn't help the sweat dripping from his face, broken pants bursting from his nose. Soon, he wouldn't be able to breathe out of that. With a painful heave, he gagged, coughed impossibly hard, and spilled the contents of his stomach all over the ground in front of him. It splashed against his arms, staining the sleeves of his shirt and hitting his face; he would have grimaced if he wasn't otherwise occupied. Nothing but acid left him, as he hadn't eaten in God knew how long. Dehydration was going to set in soon and only make the pounding in his head that much worse. Blood pumped loud and harsh in his ears, his vision swam and he felt another dry heave coming on.
For a moment, he begged any God listening to end this torture, but his ardent pleading fell on deaf ears. Nothing reached out to save him, and death was still lightyears away. How could he still be kicking after all of this? Every injury, every removal of his limbs. Jack had seen to it that he wouldn't die, he thought, and that was the most shocking education he'd ever had.
Eyes watery and nose dripping over his lips after six more emissions, he staggered back to his feet. Swaying for a few seconds, he scrubbed at his face, smearing the tears and mucus up his cheeks, trying to regain control over himself. He had to get to the barn that Lucas was hiding away in, he had to save Mia, himself, and Zoe. That was his main focus, the only driving force to keep him going right now. A one-track mind helped in this situation, and he stumbled forward, the light peeking out from under the door a beacon showing him where to go next. Would this kill him? Maybe. The heaviness in his arms wasn't helped by the gun in his hand, his arms nearly limp as he fought against the weakness in his knees.
Not paying attention to where he was going, lumbering ever forward, a sudden shout left him and he plummeted to the ground hard. No time to catch himself, the biting pain in his leg too much for him to handle on such short notice, his face hit the mud hard enough to bruise his cheek. With the wind knocked from his lungs, he lay there in agony for a long moment, eyes screwed shut as he tried to catch his breath.
Once he could wrap his mind around filling his lungs again, his eyelids lifted and fell sluggishly as he pushed himself up off the ground halfway, hips still glued down. Turning to look at his right leg, Ethan winced at the sight of barbed wire looped around his ankle, a thin, short leash of it tied to a stake in the ground. It looked like the kind screwed down, meant to keep a dog in the yard. That was him, now, wasn't it? A dog trapped in a yard that wasn't his, kept by someone intent on keeping him. Tears leaked down his face again, his nose a snot faucet, the fire in his face unable to compare to the tight grip ripping into his flesh.
Footsteps alerted him to a presence, and he grabbed the shotgun not far from his hands. They quivered as he looked up, expecting a molded to be coming for him in his hour of darkness. Forcing himself to sit up on his hip, he leveled the gun on Lucas, surprised to see the other man out of his control room.
"Aw, look at you, Ethan…" Lucas chuckled, his grin splitting his face nearly in half, "Caught like a coyote in a trap."
Ethan was hyper-aware of Lucas' southern drawl, 'cai-yote' leaving his lips, and he clicked another bullet into the gun in his hands.
"Now, now, no need for that," Sauntering over, Lucas pried the shotgun from Ethan's hands with more ease than the injured man wanted to admit to, and he watched as Lucas set it aside. Apparently, he had more sense than to simply throw it, and Ethan recognized that all too well. Self-preservation, at best, but at least Ethan wasn't going to get shot.
"Fuck off." Ethan managed, his voice wavering, cracking as Lucas kneeled down to take Ethan's chin in his filthy hands.
"You ain't in any position to tell me what to do, now, are ya, Ethan?" Lucas shook his head with a happy chortle, leaning in quickly enough that Ethan was stunned, stuck in place.
Dry, cracked lips met his in a violent kiss, and he tasted blood, snot, salt, and bile as Lucas' tongue strong-armed its way into his mouth. A disgusted grunt left him as Lucas plundered his mouth, taking from him what he wanted and leaving no room to struggle against his advances. Ethan was exhausted, in too much pain to fight him as Lucas tugged him forward by his armpits, straining the limited reach of the barbed wire lacerating his skin. Another cry of pain left him when Lucas bit into his lip hard enough to split his plump, chapped flesh, leaving a trail of blood down his chin.
"There you go, Ethan… Look so good like this." Lucas was nearly purring in excitement, blood thrumming through his system, "Want to make you mine." His whispers against Ethan's lips almost left him bereft, but he was sure he was past that point, now.
"Wh-wh-what do you want, Lucas?" His tone wasn't as rough, wasn't as spiteful as he'd wanted, but Ethan had to take whatever he could get at this point. Spitting at him, Ethan glared as hard as he could with= his wet eyes and watery, almost stern frown.
"Don't go playing hard to get, now, Ethan. It's unbecomin'. You're dependent on me to get you outta this, ain'tcha? You oughta be nicer to me." Lucas's smarmy smile almost made Ethan sick again, he felt his stomach railing against his insides, bile rising in his throat.
Another rough kiss met his mouth, his blood mingling with Lucas's saliva, staining both of their teeth pink. Suddenly, Ethan shoved at him, unsure when he cared not to give him his ire. God knew Lucas deserved it. Turning just enough to feel safe in this moment of weakness, a few dry heaves soon produced more stomach acid to slap on the ground, splattering more against his chest and arms.
"Can't handle yourself no more?" Lucas asked, absently rubbing Ethan's back as he spilled his stomach contents again, eyes red and puffy from tears and throat hoarse. Quivering, he leaned into Lucas's touch, hating himself for wanting the comfort he provided. Elbows buckling, he did his best to fall to the side that his vomit wasn't on, shocked to find Lucas scooting forward and sitting down cross legged.
Yanking Ethan into his lap, he held him close, wiping at his face and sweaty forehead.
"Pushin' you too far, baby boy?" Lucas asked softly, his voice almost tender and eyes soft as he took in the sheer amount of pain in his face. Ethan nodded vaguely, eyelashes fluttering against his bruised cheekbones. Lucas was right. If he'd stayed away, he wouldn't be suffering like this. On the other hand, Mia would have been, and he couldn't find it in himself to give up on her. Eyes sunken in, he looked like he might pass out, and Lucas took pity on him. Reaching for the shotgun, he held it up above Ethan's oblivious head, his eyes closed to the world, before slamming it down against his temple as hard as he could.
The world swam for a moment, Ethan's vision hot and white for just a second before everything went dark.
AN: Welp, I feel like this vaguely covers another part of the whump bingo, but I'm not going to count it because the theme is still being caught in a snare. At any rate, I hope you guys enjoyed the ouchies. I had fun writing this! It's partially a vent piece, as a lot has been happening lately and it's driving me crazy not getting it out.
Prompt: Caught In A Snare