Chapter Text
Aaron Hotchner “When you grow up in an environment like that; an extremely abusive household it's not surprising that some people grow up to become killers.
Unsub - “You said some people grow up to become killers . . ."
Hotchner - “and some people grow up to catch them.”
Prologue - September 1979, England.
'Tian curled up as small as he could get, huddling under the bed covers and wishing he could disappear. He had been holding himself together all day, trying to be brave in front of these strange, English boys. Everything about them was wrong, so loud, so smelly! He had stared at them with scared, blue eyes as they rampaged around greeting each other with loud halloos and tales of holidays and treats they'd brought for tuck. Tuck! What a stupid word, it was as though they had their own language, fag, Mater, Pater, senior and juniors. He'd heard someone call him fresh meat and he had no idea what it meant. To his ear, so used to listening to the musical sound of the Parisian French that was spoken at home, it sounded harsh and ugly.
But still he had studied them all very carefully, these strange, wild boys. He knew that he would have to be able to imitate them and sound natural doing it if he was going to blend in and become part of the crowd. He knew instinctively that it would be so much easier to be here if he didn't put his head above the parapet.
Jean-Paul, his tutor had tried to tell him what to expect, had given a disdainful little sneer as he'd told 'Tian about the English boys who were like pack animals, how he would have to make sure he was part of the pack or he would end up as the little fox being torn to death. "Barbarians!" the man had concluded with a shudder and Seb had taken it all in, staring with his strange pale eyes.
Maman had been distraught at their parting, sobbing and having to go and lie down in her room, "Mon petit 'Tian!" she'd cried. "Do not go, do not leave me!" and Grandpere had tutted his disapproval. "This is why he has to go, you are too indulgent with him, he has to go to his father's school, it will make a man of him." And 'Tian had wanted to hide in his mother's arms, to climb in to the vast satin covered bed beside her and refuse to leave but one look at Grandpere's face, so harsh and full of disdain had persuaded him that this was a bad idea. All too often Grandpere had beaten him for some supposed transgression, he had learned his lesson early not to provoke the old man deliberately.
They had lived with Grandpere since his father's death five years before and the man was a fast fading memory. 'Tian supposed he should be grateful that his father had left provision for him to go to a select English Boarding School. that he should appreciate the tradition of going to the same place that his family had done for generations but he wasn't.
Seb loved being French, had loved the life of luxury that he lived in their Paris house. Although only six when they had left his native England for France he had adapted quickly, he was bilingual because his mother had always spoken her native language at home. His Maman was delicate and beautiful and he adored spending time with her, surrounded by her sweet perfumes and dainty things that were all around her suite. Merde! but he didn't want to go to back to England, land of the barbarians! Jean Paul could teach him everything he needed to know, and he had tried to explain that to Grandpere but the old man wouldn't listen. "This is a house of women and old people, boy." he'd said gruffly. "You need to find people you're own age, you need playmates." And that had been the end of it, Maman had begged and pleaded on his behalf but to no avail.
Jean Paul had made the journey with him, 'Tian hadn't been allowed to take his favourite clothes and toys. The school had sent a list and the meager possessions were packed into a trunk, all the items of uniform marked neatly with his name. Toinette had cried as she'd stitched in the labels. The uniform was gray and boring, although he actually rather fancied himself in the smart black blazer with the gold stitched crest on the pocket.
He was allowed to take a small amount of treats packed into a special box and pocket money to last the term in a new wallet. Most important of all as far as 'Tian was concerned was the little package of writing paper and envelopes tucked into his satchel with his fountain pen, Jean-Paul had helped him buy English stamps at the station. He would need to be able to write to Maman, he wouldn't be able to see her again now for twelve whole weeks. The time stretched like an eternity before him.
He had started writing his first letter home at the earliest opportunity, which finally came when he was in bed before lights out.
Chere Maman,
It is very big here and raining, the food is very strange. The meat had no sauce and the potatoes are called spuds and they serve a blancmange that tastes of nothing for dessert. There is a photograph of Daddy's football team in the Entrance Hall. The Prefect (that means a bigger boy) who was showing me around said I should be very proud of him. It was the best team in years and he hopes I will be as good at it as him. I do not think I will like football, Daddy looked very muddy, I do not like to get dirty.
He didn't know what else to say, he wanted to pour out his heart to her, about how very strange everything was here and how very much he missed her and longed to be back with her again but he knew that would only make her sad. He sucked on the end of his pen and looked surreptitiously at the other boys in his dormitory. "Dorm", he must call it if he was to sound like them. Three were new like him, they were reading books or writing letters and two had been there the previous term. They'd shown the new boys where to put their belongings ("Stuff"), now they were sitting together on one bed and playing cards, calling "Go fish!" at each other as they put down and snatched up cards. 'Tian looked at them with a wistful little pang, it actually looked quite fun.
An older boy, the same one who had shown him round earlier, opened the door and called "lights out". The other boys scurried to put their things away and settle under the covers so he followed their example, carefully stowing his letter writing set in the bedside locker. Then the lights were turned off and the door pulled closed and the room was plunged into darkness.
'Tian lay on his back, the scratchy sheet pulled up to his chin, the feeling on his skin was so very different to the soft blankets and warm eiderdowns of home. He had always had a night light at home too and the inky darkness was scary and oppressive. The feeling of unbearable homesickness getting worse and worse the longer he lay awake. He urged himself to be brave but he could hear by their breathing that the others were all asleep now and he felt so very alone.
Toinette, his nurse had slept in his room for as long as he could remember and it had been easy to fall asleep as she sat with a little light and stitched at her embroidery or read stories. If she was in a good mood she read bits of the stories to him as he dozed off, thrilling tales of handsome men who carried away their chosen brides and ravished them until the grateful girls fell in love with them forever.
It was too quiet and too dark and too scratchy and he wanted his maman, and he missed Toinette and he missed Jean Paul and he'd traveled so very far from home and suddenly it was all too much for the eleven year old. Tears were rolling down his cheeks and he buried his face in his pillow as he tried to cry quietly. Grandpere would be so cross if he knew, he didn't like it when 'Tian cried, said it was another example of Maman turning him into a baby. Valiantly he fought against it but eventually he gave in to the luxury of his misery and sobbed.
He was crying so hard he was barely aware of the snick as the door opened and a beam of light shone in from the corridor. 'Tian looked up with a sniffle as the Prefect who'd shown him round earlier looked in. "Roche isn't it? Come on you, you'll wake the others." He beckoned to 'Tian who scrambled out of bed and followed the older boy out into the corridor.
The older boy's had the luxury of rooms to themselves and 'Tian stared with big eyes as the prefect switched on an electric kettle and pulled two mugs from a small cupboard. He spooned in cocoa powder and heaped spoonfuls of sugar. "This'll put the heart back in you," he offered jovially as he handed over the mug. 'Tian sniffed it doubtfully, he'd never encountered a beverage like this before, his new friend just laughed and took a big gulp from his own mug. The boy was dark haired and stocky, his hair hung in long shaggy curls to his shoulders, he looked like the English football player whose picture had been in the newspaper he and Jean-Paul had read on the ferry.
"I went to France in the hols, it was wizard." the older boy admitted. "But pretty weird too, different food and all that. I guess you must be finding it all a bit odd here. "
'Tian nodded, "It is very different," he said quietly.
"Hmm, what's you name, kid? I'm Halloran Senior, that means I've got a kid brother in the school but my actual name is Steve."
"I'm Tian, it is short for Sebastian."
"Huh? Sorry kid, sounds a bit girly, you'll get the shit kicked out of you for sure with a moniker like that. You're Seb now ok?" It was more of a command than a suggestion and if 'Tian was annoyed at someone else telling him what to do he was too grateful for the other boy's kindness to mention it.
'Tian nodded, "ok" he whispered.
"It's ok, kid," Steve soothed, "I'll look out for you; you're like my little bro, he'll be here next year. You can be my fag if you like, stick with me and I'll show you the ropes."
"Merci, Steven, that is very kind." He took a hesitant swallow of the gloopy drink and found that it was actually quite pleasant, strong and sweet and very comforting. As Steve had promised 'Tian could indeed feel the heart coming back into him as he drained his mug.
"Steven, what is fag?" he asked hesitantly.
"It means you're my boy now, no one will mess with you and in return . . . well, I'm sure we can find things you can do for me in return. First off you can drop the French crap outside lessons."
'Tian focused his startlingly blue eyes on the older boy, something akin to hero worship already glowing in them.
"Okey dokie, Steve."
Steve laughed as the younger boy struggled to suppress a yawn.
"You'll do, kid. Now wash up the mugs and you'd better toddle back to bed before the masters do their rounds. You'll lose us house points if you're out of bed then."
Back in his room 'Tian climbed quickly under the covers feeling so much better that he had before. In his hand he clutched the treasure that his new friend had given him, a small but powerful torch. With it's light he got out his letter and hurried to finish it so he could post it in the morning.
I have made a new friend, he is very nice. His moniker is Steve. He is going to teach me to make toast tomorrow.
I miss you Maman but I am going to be okay.
love Seb XX
***********************
Portland, Oregon. June 2011
Karla gave the guy her most winning smile, just one more and she could go home for the night, she could see he was dithering and she smiled again, trying to look appealing rather than predatory. Just twenty two years old and with a failed marriage behind her she had never imagined her life would turn out like this, turning tricks on a street corner to make the rent. She was tired and the weather was freakin' cold for the time of year and she wanted to get back to her kids; her mother was supposed to be looking after them but the old bat would be stone drunk by now.
"I'll be the best blow job you ever got," she said confidently, angling forward so that her low cut boob tube emphasized her small breasts, the dark rim of her nipples teasing the lacy edging on the tube top. She knew she looked awesome tonight, her latte colored skin fresh and glowing, her lips full and enhanced by the peachy colored lip-gloss she'd liberally applied. She wasn’t a user like many of the skanks out here and she always exposed her arms so the guys could see she wasn’t a junkie. She knew it brought her a lot of trade and meant she could keep her prices up. Especially with nervous little newbie's like the stuttering blonde dude in front of her. It was almost comical the way his eyes darted round as if he expected Vice to drag his ass to jail at any minute. As if they cared enough to bother coming to this part of town anyway.
Finally the guy nodded and cleared his throat. "Where?" he asked abruptly. She could tell by the way he moved that he was nervous, not used to doing this sort of thing. That suited Karla just fine, it was the confident ones who were more likely to cause trouble. She took the money from his trembling hands and tucked it safely into her top. Taking her time so he got a good eyeful of her small but pretty breasts as she did so.
"Over here, hun." she jerked her thumb in the direction of the alley, she had a place in the shadows under the fire escape where she'd squashed a couple of cardboard boxes flat to protect her knees. Still nervously casting around for Cops the guy trotted obediently after her into the dim space.
"That's right, honey," she purred, backing him up against the wall. She let her fingers trail slowly down his chest and towards his groin, listening to the way his breath hitched as his eyes followed the downward progression of her hand. Her nails, long and painted deep blue gleamed softly in the dull glow from barred windows way above them. She was looking at the varnish, appreciating the effect and thinking how she might get Taneesha to do them hot pink next time as she unzipped his trousers and reached for his cock. When he started to scream she thought maybe she'd caught him with her nail or something but that didn't explain the way he'd gone so pale.
"shut up, dude! What the fuck?" She hissed through clenched teeth. The last thing she needed tonight was for the cops to show up.
"Look, l . . l . . . look!" he stammered.
She turned round and peered into the gloom, "Oh fuck!" she'd seen dead bodies before, junkies who'd OD'd and a girlfriend who'd been hit by a car in front of her; but none like this. Face down, the skin carved in ribbons from his back, no blood though, the corpse was bluer than her nails in the gloom.
"Oh fuck!" she repeated, glad that she'd already got the money as she turned and fled as fast as was possible on her four inch heels. She rapidly vanished into the night, leaving her shocked customer to tremble and swear as he stumbled back onto the street and tried to dial 911 from his cell phone while his fingers were shaking so badly he could barely hold the phone. He threw up three times before the first police car got there.
***********************
The living room where most of the party was happening was typical of cheap, student housing the world over. It sported a dated paint job and bulk buy fixtures, the worst parts of the walls were covered by band posters and a couple of large body diagrams which had been embellished over time to have bizarrely oversized and technicolored portions of their anatomy.
At the moment the room contained very little in the way of furniture other than a grungy beige couch and a couple of easy chairs, anything of value or import had been put away in readiness for the event. It was dimly lit, just a single up-lighter and a lamp in the corner to illuminate what was going on. Someone, probably Chad, had smashed the main light trying to juggle beer bottles earlier on in the evening and no one had been bothered to replace it. After a particularly gruelling set of semester finals, the want-to-be-doctors were ready to kick back and let their hair down. They wanted to, as Chad so eloquently put it, "PAAARRRRTTTYYYY!"
After a couple of hours of too much drink and not enough food, the party was in full swing. Forty odd people crammed into a space meant to hold four, loud music blared from a stereo and a few people were dancing. There was a couple making out on the stairs and another in the hallway to the kitchen. Outside the bathroom door a pair of young men were arguing heatedly about the benefits of the beer versus the tequila. Although the guests were mainly male those women that were there were enjoying themselves dancing and drinking as heartily as the men.
Parties at the house shared by Chad, Alex, Steve and Christian always tended to get pretty wild anyway and they were a pretty frequent occurrence. The four men were dedicated party goers at the best of times, Steve and Chris were damned good musicians in their limited spare time and were always ready to party hard. However with Chad and Misha banding together to organize the event which they'd dubbed Partypocalypse™; tonight was always going to be epic!
They'd cajoled, wheedled and downright bullied everyone into pooling their resources to buy an outsize keg of the locally brewed specialty beer. The price of entry was a bottle of Tequila and there was also some really hot shit weed that Chad had got from a friend who'd been growing it in a specially lit room hidden in the roof! And all to be shared between the elite group of med students and their personally invited friends. Well, that had been the initial plan and maybe Chad had got a little carried away in inviting extras but as he said, they needed a few women for variety and they all brought their own drink with them so it was all good.
Misha, at twenty five was slightly older than the majority of his friends; he'd spent a gap year doing aid work after pre-med. Dark haired with intense blue eyes, Misha was thoughtful and quirky but popular with the other students. Since moving out of the dorms the group had been forced to split into smaller units but they all still socialized regularly and Misha had been looking forward to catching up - they hadn't had a chance to really get together since before the exam revision period had started. Even he and Chad who had the lowest grades of the group had understood the need to get these exams under their belts; scores now could affect their choice of hospital when it came to being allocated placements and internships.
Misha had grown up as part of a close knit family of Russian immigrants with a particularly strong bond with his identical twin brother. The boys had been typical twins, sharing their own language and content to be best friends as well as siblings. They had grown even closer following their parents death six years ago and originally Yuri had moved to Portland with Misha, although he had chosen to work in a bar rather than go to University.
A couple of walk on parts in TV shows had made Yuri reassess his life and he’d moved to California two years previously where he now lived with his actress girlfriend, Stephanie. Misha still found it hard that he was separated from Yuri now, although he had understood his brothers Hollywood dream and the resulting move to LA that had come with it. Misha had instead poured all his affections into his closest friends, looking after them and becoming reliant on them in the same way he had been used to doing with Yuri.
As Partypocalypse™ got into it's full swing he scanned the room to check up on all his friends, something they'd all been doing lately. Since the third victim, when the term serial killer had started being bandied around, the students had all started being a lot more careful. The finding of a fourth body the previous weekend had added fuel to the flames of paranoia. All of the young male students phoned to check in with roommates if there was a change of plan and they always walked round in groups or pairs at the very least. Even tonight's party had been arranged around the fact that no strangers were to be invited and anyone who wasn't staying had someone to walk home with. Misha guessed it kind of put a damper on things but it was better to be safe than sorry. And still, even here in the safety of his friend's home, Misha felt the need to keep making sure everyone was safe and so far had only drunk a sedate couple of beers.
Steve, a stocky blonde was the oldest of their group but also one of the biggest party animals. He was bragging loudly that he was counting tonight a win because he'd just gotten head from one of the blonde freshmen he'd invited. Chris, if possible was usually even wilder than his friend. His dark hair and predilection for turquoise jewelery betrayed his Cherokee heritage. Tonight he'd added to the exotic effect by rimming his eyes with smoky black eyeliner. Despite the attention it was getting him from the girls and some of the guys who'd come along, he was at the moment, more interested in joining in the drinking discussion with Chad and Alex.
Chad was one of the closest friends Misha had made since coming to school. Misha found him an interesting and loyal companion although many people found it was hard to get beneath the surface image that Chad portrayed. The blonde played on the fact that he was the youngest of the group and always acted the clown but Misha knew that the kid had a heart of gold and was always ready to help out a friend - even if he did sometimes act like a douche while he was doing it!
Alex was a different kettle of fish entirely, a work out freak and adrenaline junkie he alternated between being too laid back for his own good and getting carried away on moralistic crusades. He was Hawaiian and scheduled his life around his fitness regime and his passion for extreme sports. How their group had come to be such a melting pot was anybody's guess but it worked for them. They were all easy going and many of them had blurred the lines with their sexuality. Alex was as tall and dark and classically handsome as it was possible to get, sadly he was one of the totally straight ones, which Misha thought was a real shame because he would totally like to tap that! Tribal tattoos traced over his upper arms, accenting the chiseled cut of his biceps. Misha also knew that he had the most amazing tramp stamp spread across his back, one day he was totally going to let Alex talk him into getting ink of his own.
The only person he needed to find now was Jared. Misha's totally best friend, house mate, lab partner and partner in crime. The crazy shit they had got up to was almost beyond believable in their first couple of years, everything from hood surfing to putting a lab skeleton in the Dean's car and calling it in to the Police as a suspected murder!
They'd mellowed a bit this year as they settled in to make sure that their social lives didn't affect their studies. Jared in particular had been steadied down by his boyfriend, Jensen and tried to persuade Misha that It was getting closer to the serious part of their studying now, it wasn't going to be long before they were let loose on actual patients after all. Misha had sort of agreed but he was never one to let too much study get in the way of a good party.
Misha prowled the house, he was pleased to see how well the party was going. He was a popular guy and his progress was slow because he had to keep stopping to chat with friends and acquaintances as he searched. He finally found Jared with Jensen, his boyfriend. They were have a sneaky make out session in the kitchen, half hidden in the shadowed end of the room by the back door. Jared looked up from sucking a sloppy hickey into Jensen's neck long enough to grin and say "chill, bro' it's all cool."
Reassured that everyone was here and happy, Misha allowed himself to finally knock back a couple of Tequila's, no reason why he shouldn't enjoy the party too. He wandered off to join Chad's game, a sure fire way of catching up with everyone else in the drinking stakes.
The party continued unabated until the early hours of the morning. Now the beers had long gone but the tequila was still flowing a little faster than was healthy. At least someone had had the munchies bad enough to order in several large pizza's, judging by the fact that they all contained pineapple it was probably Alex although whose Credit Card he'd charged it too was anyone's guess. This had gone a little way towards soaking up the alcohol and slowing down the pace a little. Misha had snagged a slice as he finally made his way back to the living room to mellow out and listen to the music.
Those of the students who were still conscious were all feeling more than a little reckless. The alcohol and weed was combining to make a heady mix with their general giddy sense of relief about the exams being over. Their recent sleep deprivation was beginning to tell, as they had all slept very little in the past week as they crammed for the hated tests. Misha himself held the record of staying awake for over forty eight hours in a row although he had caught up a bit recently. In some like Misha, this manifested itself as a air of happy lethargy while in others, like Chad, it lead to an almost manic state of hyperactivity.
As the night turned to early morning most of the extras had drifted off, back to their dorm rooms or frat houses. Leaving in small groups as the girls chose to chaperone the guys in a strange reversal of roles to get them safely home. The guys joked and teased about it but their humor was a thin veneer that overlaid their deeper discomfort. Finally only the core group of friends were left with just a few additional classmates who had decided to stay the distance.
Misha wasn't sure who started it, Chad maybe or Steve; both were totally wasted and although a number of drinking games had been suggested the one that seemed to meet with universal approval was a game of Chad's invention which was a devious combination of spin the bottle and gay chicken. The rules were fairly fluid but on the whole resulted in everyone consuming silly amounts of alcohol regardless of whether they were Chicken or not. It was a pretty obvious option because all the women had left by this point.
Jared was lolling on one end of the couch and watching Jensen playing his guitar over the other side of the room, Misha had snagged a cushion and was sitting on the floor in front of his friend, he was feeling too wasted to be bothered with anything right now. Misha took another draw on his joint before passing it up to Jared, "You up for it?" His face felt like it had fixed into a permanent grin, he could feel his eyes were hooded. The weed was strong and although he had a good buzz on it was making him strangely sleepy too. Jared took the joint and had a token drag before passing it onto Chad. "I totally ace this game every time," Jared whispered loudly. "See the whole point of gay chicken? it only really works if you're not actually gay!"
Misha grinned lazily as he lolled against Jared's legs, Jared was his best friend in the whole world, and big. Really, really big. he made an awesome thing to lean on when Misha was too stoned or too drunk to stand up by himself. Jared had an awesome boyfriend too, Jensen; but he wasn't big on party games so he was with Chris in the corner, singing softly as Chris played his guitar. They were mellow as . . . as . . .as really mellow things. The music was making little warm squiggles on his skin and maybe Misha had been smoking and drinking more than a little too much tonight; he couldn't remember the last time he'd felt this wasted.
Jared was idly running his fingers through Misha's hair as they waited to see who would get the game started, it made Misha feel like purring, he could totally understand now why cats did. When one of his friend’s was affectionate with him like this Misha felt all warm and fuzzy inside, cared for; the ever present awareness of his twins absence receded to a distant place.
It seemed like there were about eight or ten of them playing, Misha wasn't really awake enough to be bothered with counting. Happy that he had all his guys together in one place, all sprawled in the living room; over the couch and chairs, or sitting on the rug to make an untidy sort of circle. Himself and Jared, Chad, Steve, Riley, Dave, Alex, a couple of guys he didn't really know but recognized from round campus, and Seb.
Misha had met Seb a couple of times lately, chatted to him after a couple of lectures, bumped into him in the bar on campus. He was quite a bit older than the rest of them obviously but he'd been really interesting to chat to that time in class. He'd proved to be just as interesting a social companion too. Witty and dry with a tinge of sarcasm all delivered deadpan with his formal English accent which was actually pretty sexy. It didn't hurt that he was easy on the eye either. Cornflower blue eyes and tanned skin, his mouth was small but had a sexy little curve to it that Misha was able to appreciate. Misha had felt sorry for the guy because he didn't seem to know many people in the area yet which was mainly why he'd invited him to the party. The fact that he had felt a growing spark of attraction for the older man had nothing to do with it at all.
Chad started the game off which really was no surprise, he was masterminding this whole thing after all and had been in the thick of things the whole night. His bottle spin won him Jared who he gave a very decorous peck on the cheek, much to the derision of the rest of the group. Jensen looked over and grinned fondly, "Keep it above the waist Jared okay? Anything lower than that is mine." Misha loved his best friend but not like that, he wasn't jealous of the relationship with Jensen. He smiled sleepily back and said, "Don't worry, lover; I'll keep your boy toy safe for you." Jensen laughed and flipped him the finger before suggesting another song to Chris and losing himself in their little musical bubble once more.
Jared spun the bottle again and laughed as it ended up facing towards them. "At least I don't have to go anywhere, he chuckled softly. leaning in close and goddamn purring in Misha's ear as he licked a stripe up his neck, finishing with a gentle bite to Misha's earlobe. Misha squirmed as Chad whooped and yelled. "Watch out, Jenny boy, these two are gonna be trouble."
"Your turn, Mish." Jared grinned saucily, "Or are you gonna forfeit?"
Always up for the challenge Misha spun the bottle, watching as it revolved around to come to a halt in front of Seb. Misha grinned, taking a deep toke on the joint that had somehow made its way back to him, or maybe it was a new one, he was getting a little bit hazy on things now. "Ah man, "he groused, cheerfully, comfortable where he was leaning against Jared for support.
"hey, Misha, you're not going to go chicken on me are you?" Seb taunted and there was a strange edge to his voice that sounded a lot like jealousy.
And that was kind of a little weird considering where they'd met but a game was a game and why the hell not? As Misha started to move, Sebastian pulled him forward, away from Jared until they were both kneeling in the middle of the group, it was almost as though Sebastian was putting on a show for the onlookers. There was a definite challenge in the older mans eyes as he let just the tip of his tongue appear to moisten his lower lip.
Oh that was it! Misha was up to meet any challenge that could be thrown at him, he grabbed Sebastian and pulled the blonde man in for an open mouthed kiss, mashing their lips together, letting his tongue probe just a little way into Seb's mouth.. Misha's mouth felt sloppy and loose from the weed, teeth crashing a little because Misha was too spun out to try and be careful. He gave a little gasp as Sebastian matched him, pulling Misha's body flush against his and using his tongue to probe deep into Misha's mouth, taking over and taking control until Misha felt helpless to do anything but be manipulated by the man in front of him.
The other students were still laughing and cheering but suddenly Misha felt really uncomfortable. Sebastian seemed to be getting into this a little too much for just a game and he was beginning to feel almost claustrophobic. Just when he was about to push the taller man away, Sebastian pulled back with a grin and tossed back another shot of tequila before spinning the bottle with a flourish and moving on to Alex who chose to forfeit, chugging a whole tumbler of Tequila with barely a grimace.
Misha lost track of the game for a while; he had resettled himself with Jared and could feel himself drifting as his friend began to play with his hair again. He forfeited his next turn, opting to drink rather than play. He was feeling so good, warm and sleepy and he didn't want to move when Jared suggested it was time to head home, he shook his head. "S'cool, man. I'll just stay here." And indeed he was already more asleep than awake, sliding over to curl up on the floor as Jared extricated himself.
"Sure," Chad called, looking up from the make out session with Seb that was his current forfeit. "he can crash on the couch, don't sweat it Jare'."
Misha muttered something unintelligible as Jared lifted him up onto the couch and dozed for a while. When he woke up there was more drinking and another joint and suddenly Misha was feeling more than a little hot and giddy and he woozily got to his feet. He headed to the head, laughing at his own pun; he peed and then splashed cold water onto his hands and face. The cool liquid running over his skin felt good and he wandered out to the yard to get some fresh air. He suddenly felt the need to be in his own bed, maybe it was time to follow Jared home.
He wasn't too steady on his feet as he walked, realizing dimly that he was so much more out of it that he'd thought. He stumbled often and once he found himself on his knees on the sidewalk with no memory of how he got there. He felt like a little kid as he rolled up the knee of his jeans to look at the scraped patch of reddened skin. He realized blearily that perhaps this wasn't such a good idea, he should have done as Chad suggested and slept on the couch. He swayed and somehow ended up leaning on a wall, fuck! How did he get here? He slumped back and closed his eyes, he just needed a few minutes to get himself together, then maybe he'd call a cab or something, or try and find his way back to the party. If only he didn't feel so sick and confused, if only everything would just stop spinning for a while. He longed for his brother, Yuri, the sensible one. Always there to have Misha's back. Where was Yuri?
Dean Koontz wrote “Of all the things we can feel with our minds and bodies, severe pain is the purest, for it drives everything else from our awareness and focuses us as perfectly as we can ever be focused.”
Misha wasn't sure how long he leaned there, dazed and drifting. Although being outside in the cool, early morning air had cleared his head a little he still felt foggy and out of it. For about the first time ever he wished he hadn't partied quite so hard. He patted his pockets, trying to find his cell phone, calling a cab seemed like a really good idea now, even waking up Jared and begging him to come would be better than staying here. Fuck! He’d left the phone in his jacket which was currently hanging in Chad’s closet. He let himself drift away again, everything felt like too much trouble. Street sounds seemed oddly far away, the traffic just a distant hum.
He was shocked awake by a hand on his shoulder. "Ready to go home now sleepyhead?" The familiar European accent was gentle, even teasing.
"Feel . . . feel so tired, need to get back." Misha mumbled.
"It's all fine, everything's okay," Seb reassured. "I'll take you home with me."
"Nah," Misha replied, shaking his head, he didn't want to got back with Seb, he wanted to be at the house with his Chad and Alex, or be home safe with Jared and Jensen. "I wanna go home, Seb, wanna sleep in my bed." he slurred.
Seb's face darkened, something angry and threatening marring his handsome features. "You're a tease, Misha," he spat out. "I could feel you wanting it, so hot and hard at the party, too late to back out now."
"Hey, chill out, man!" Misha was genuinely confused, he felt suddenly sober, this situation was seriously fucked up. "It was a game, it was only a game!" He pleaded. His only answer was the other man pressing his knee between Misha's legs; grinding into him too hard, so that it was verging on painful and Misha was helpless, pinned against the wall.
Misha tried to struggle but Sebastian overpowered him easily; he was shocked as Sebastian pulled a hip flask from his jacket pocket, forcing the neck between Misha's lips. Misha gagged and choked as the spirit burned its way down his throat. Only when Sebastian seemed satisfied that it was all gone did he release his grip on the younger man.
"You're a fucking lunatic!" Misha spat out the words along with a mouthful of blood, the metal rim of the flask had cut his lip. He twisted again, desperate now to get away, his ears ringing and he could feel his blood pounding but even as he started to run, the lights of the street seemed to dim and the world lurched alarmingly. He could hear Sebastian behind him, and found himself swaying back into the older mans arms. He was vaguely aware of being lifted, carried to God knows where. Everything was so dark and so far away, his grip on consciousness a mere thread.
He sensed rather than saw the car, dropped like a stone to the ground as Sebastian let him go and then maneuvered him into the back seat. Sebastian was talking but Misha couldn't make out the words.
Misha listened to the drone of Sebastian's voice, not able to process what he was even saying any more, he groaned a little with the pain, and tried to lick his blood stained lips. "Help . . . help me!" he gasped.
"Hush now, sweetheart, I've got you," and Sebastian's words held no hint of comfort , even as he spoke he was moving in, lips getting closer and just when Misha thought the older man was going to kiss him again he instead let his tongue swipe over Misha's bloodstained lips. Misha retched a little but managed not to be sick, his head was spinning again and he was aware of dark shapes beginning to dance in front of his eyes before everything went black as his eyes rolled up in his head.
********************
Jensen doubled over the sink in Jared’s bathroom and retched as he tried to wrangle out his contacts. Jared rubbed soothing circles on his back and helped him throw the disposable lenses away before he handed him the pain meds he'd got ready.
"Thanks, Jare', I'm really sorry to drag you away from the party so early." Jensen whispered quietly.
Jared hated seeing his lover looking so pained and miserable, they‘d been together properly for nearly six months now and Jared felt that their relationship was growing stronger all the time. Jensen stayed over at Jared’s most of the time now and especially when he was ill like this Jared wanted to take care of him however sappy that made him sound.
"Hey, Jensen, it's cool, man. For a start 2am isn't early and secondly you did not drag me away. I chose to bring you home."
Jensen nodded weakly, “yeah you did. Thank you.”
"So, migraine, huh? Bad one?"
Jensen was still gripping the cool porcelain of the sink as though his life depended on it. "Yeah, pretty bad and no warning this time, I was having such a good time at the party and I usually get a warning."
“Well now, that's not fair,” Jared teased gently but he continued to soothe Jensen as they sat together in the cool of the bathroom. Jared had propped the door open and turned out the light so that they were sitting in the dim light thrown in from the hallway.
The floor was patterned with big old fashioned black and white tiles, they made Jared's eyes go funny on the best of days. He didn't know how Jensen could bear to be in here with a headache. Jared figured his lover's fear of throwing up was probably outweighing all other considerations at the moment.
Jensen let out a little huff, "You know what I mean, douche! If I'd had more warning it wouldn't have got this bad before I took my Imitrix."
Jared was immediately contrite, "I'm sorry, I wish I'd remembered to check you had it with you before we went out."
Jensen lolled against him for a while in silence. “You're not my mom,” Jensen pointed out gently. “I can manage to take care of my own meds.”
“Except when you cant!” Jared teased.
“You and Misha seemed pretty snugly tonight,” Jensen observed quietly.
"Jealous?" Jared asked softly, "Because dude, he's my best friend but I haven't, wouldn't . . . you know there's been no one else since we became exclusive, right? Hell! There's been no one else for me since the day you transferred in."
Jensen smiled weakly, "You're such a sap. Nah, I was more worried about him actually, it must be hard for him seeing us all happy and shit. I wish he had someone special. He's a good guy."
“Yeah,” Jared agreed he deserves that. “I got my hopes up for a while when Daneel started hanging around a lot but he seemed more taken with Gen. I don't think he knows what he wants really."
“Nah,” Jensen said softly. “I think maybe chicks aren't really his thing, he's just not ready to admit it yet.”
“You're full of useful insights tonight aren't you.” Jared observed. It was a thought that had crossed his own mind more than once.
“Being the only, mostly sober one at a party does that to you,” Jensen said wryly. “It gives you lots of time for people watching.” He turned his head experimentally from side to side. "I think I'm good to go, wanna help me to bed now? Not that I'm gonna be any use tonight."
Jared snorted as he helped Jensen to his feet. "I can wait till the morning, besides I think I'm ready to sleep for a week now anyway."
"At least we get the whole weekend in bed, can't imagine anyone we left at the party being sober before Monday anyway."
"Mmmm! A whole weekend in bed with you, can't imagine anywhere I'd rather be." Jared pressed a kiss to his boyfriends temple as they headed into the bedroom.
"Jensen grinned weakly, "Sounds like we have a plan then."
It didn't take them long to undress and then Jensen climbed into bed, with Jared soon there too. Jared curled round his lover, holding him protectively and they were asleep within minutes.