#fuck this (HOMOPHOBIC SLUR) i'm burning him alive

[buryingoranges]

💖elijah fanart for a friend last month

will post an art dump GUYS I'M SORRY i have like an out of sight out of mind mentality so because i've been using the web version of tumblr i just. forget it ever existed

[lonewhumper]

contains: very brief not-really-descriptive assault at the end, smoking/cigarettes, something briefly like suffocation, mentions of past noncon, nonspecified flashbacks of past abuse where there's use of a homophobic slur, PTSD symptoms + a panic attack, pet whump, starvation, isolation, creepy Whumper, defiant Whumpee and then...not so much.

[8. PART 2]

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Asa hates the smell of cigarettes.

His father smoked. And...

And he smoked. The one that Asa thinks about more than he wants to. Always had the lingering smell on his clothes, just a little, along with something else Asa hadn't known but had thought he might have even liked—

He'd thought he liked...

A lot of things. He's been confused about a lot of things. So many fucking things.

'Asa...what does your heart want?'

'Asa...what does your body want?'

No, no, no...he wants that staying buried. Hayes is trying to break him. The alcohol on his wounds nearly had.

He needs to stay with himself. Stay present. Never, ever past, or the only thing he'll do is beg to make this all stop and he can't do that. He won't.

Now Hayes just teases him, tortures him in little ways just for fun. Along with the starvation and lack of water, when once again Hayes lights one right outside the door, trying to coax him into submitting with just his predatory cooing, it only takes Asa coughing once, more from just how dry his throat is than the smell at all, for Hayes to hum and chuckle softly and then stick the end of it under the door.

"St-stop," Asa mumbles, grimacing as he winces away, and then he shields his mouth and nose with a hand.

'Fucking little faggot, come here—'

He opens his mouth to curse, and only ends up coughing again. "Fuc—stop!"

"Is it getting stuffy in there, love?"

'Asa...I've missed you...have you been avoiding me?'

Asa holds his breath, eyes watering, and finally grits his teeth and kicks out at the cigarette with his foot. It burns him, and makes him gasp out a cry because he's felt that before, and Hayes grumbles in annoyance and takes it back out.

"Hey. That wasn't nice...I wasn't done with it."

It's still too much. He can't see. Can't breathe. He can't breathe he can't breathe—

'After keeping you alive this long—'

'—the least you can do—'

'—you're a mistake, Asa. You're already going to hell. Why stop now? Play nice for him.'

Asa sobs, reaching up to press his hands against the door, to punch and claw at the wood until his fingertips and knuckles are numb and raw. "I need—open door—please! Can't—breathe!"

He's suffocating, it's too much—

Hayes laughs softly. He sounds perfectly content to let it happen. "Are you having a panic attack?"

"Help!"

"I'm trying to help you! I've been trying!"

Asa kicks at the door, and then curls into himself, yanking at the collar he can't get off because it's too tight and it's wrong, unable to keep himself calm, unable to even pretend when his mind is racing this much with things he doesn't want to—

'Asa, it's okay...nothing's changed, it's still me...don't be afraid, you were ready, it's okay—'

"I wasn't," Asa chokes, "I wasn't, I wasn't, no. Don't. Don't. Don't. Please. No more. No more."

"Ask nice," Hayes says, and Asa buries his face in his arms and chokes, coughs and hacks until he dry-heaves, and still, Hayes doesn't open the door.

"You're a dumb little whore," Hayes tells him, after a few minutes, when Asa's finally able to wheeze in a bit more air and keep himself steady even when he's shaking this badly. "So many dumb little whores in this world. So damn pretty, though. And you're the prettiest, in my humble opinion. I want you to behave and come out so we can play, Asa. I have even more things to play with now. I think you'll love them. I'll make sure you do."

Asa grits his teeth. He thinks his lip is bleeding, and he doesn't know how that happened, an old or new wound, but the sting of it along with Hayes' echoing taunts brings him slowly back to the present.

And he won't. He won't. He won't beg to be fucked again. He won't beg for Hayes' touch or his mercy. And he sure as fuck won't call him Sir or Master.

He's so damn thirsty, though. And so damn cold.

Still, his response is a quick, "Fuck you," and then nothing else, even as Hayes goes on and on about what Asa tunes out, cupping his hands over his ears until it's quiet again.

At least it's quiet.

And quiet.

And quiet, for so, so long.

Until Asa doesn't know what the fuck to do, and it's not so much a relief anymore. Until he's barely able to move, stuck curled on his side as his back throbs and burns and his head aches and feels like it might explode and his body protests the cramped position that he can't get out of. Until he's heaving from unbearable hunger pangs, and too weak to do anything but sleep.

Until he's laying on his stomach on the filthy floor, staring out into the hall, desperate for the only light he's seen in what feels like years, reaching his fingers out the bottom towards it.

And then it shuts off, like it always does when Hayes goes to bed for the night, tossing out a gentle, "Goodnight, love," as he passes.

Asa has to bite his tongue, because this time he almost begs for Hayes to keep it on.

—x—

Hayes is heading to bed on the fifth night—so long without his poor boy, but ultimately necessary—when he finally hears Asa mumble something so small and so quiet he nearly misses it completely.

"Please..."

The boy's fingers are curled under the doorway, like maybe he's reaching out for him.

For Hayes. Knowing he's the only one who can help.

"Asa," Hayes replies, just as quiet, sitting down. He runs his fingers over Asa's, gently, and Asa whimpers.

He doesn't even pull away. He just...lets Hayes touch.

"Do you have something to say to me, baby?"

"Please," Asa repeats, maybe even softer, and he sounds like he's dying. After so long without food, without water and without warmth, maybe he's a little closer to that than Hayes would like. His fingers are freezing...

But...

"That's not it, love," Hayes says. He presses his hand over Asa's fingers, trying to warm them, and Asa gasps softly. It makes Hayes shiver. "Please what?"

Nothing. God, Hayes doesn't want to spend another night alone. He doesn't know if Asa will even be alive when he wakes up.

"Come on," he encourages. "Just one word. I can hear you shivering. Let me let you out, Asa. Let me get you warm. Let me feed you. Let me help you. Please. Please...what?"

Asa doesn't reply. Not for so long that Hayes is sighing and heaving himself to his feet again, when the boy finally sobs, and his fingers twitch and reach out again, and he whispers, "Sir."

Hayes actually has to brace himself against the wall. He has to take a moment, because the rush of relief and satisfaction and adoration that washes over him is nearly debilitating.

Finally. Finally.

After a week, at last they've gotten somewhere.

He can't imagine anything feeling this good. This is a special, special moment he won't forget.

And of course, there's so much more to do. But for now...

"Fuck," he breathes out, closing his eyes. "Asa. My perfect boy. Oh, my perfect boy."

Asa deserves a reward, for this. So he knows just how good things can be when he obeys.

He unlocks the closet door, opening it, and Asa doesn't move. He heaves for the fresh air, but he doesn't raise his head or uncurl. Maybe he can't.

That's okay. That's why Hayes is here. To take care of him. It's time he knows that.

Asa doesn't make a sound as Hayes picks him up, eyes closed, lips parted as he breathes. He doesn't move at all as Hayes carries his perfect boy to the bedroom.

No bath. As near-hypothermic as he is, it would be too much of a shock. But he's filthy, and needs to be clean again.

So instead, Hayes lays his boy on the bed. Asa cries out as his back touches the sheets, but they can be tended to, now. They won't hurt much longer.

Hayes looks him over, bruised and broken, and then leans to kiss his frozen lips. He relishes the way Asa doesn't even seem to care, shuddering violently and—trying to get closer? Reaching up to him, even if he's too weak to succeed.

He knows it's only because of his body heat. But he'll pretend otherwise, for now, that his boy loves him like he's meant to. "Ssh, ssh. Relax. Here."

He kisses down that pretty neck, and then pulls away, grabbing for the half-empty glass of water on his nightstand and holding it to Asa's lips, watching his throat work as he swallows down every drop without even pausing to breathe.

He's perfect. When he's doing that for the right reason...God, he'll be fucking perfect.

He sets the glass back down, and licks up a droplet that spilled down Asa's chin.

"You're...so...beautiful..." he murmurs, pressing a kiss down between each word, up and up until he's at Asa's mouth again. "So...damn...perfect."

He thinks Asa lets out a sound of protest when he at last gets up again and starts to leave, and he reassures Asa he'll be right back before heading into the bathroom to grab a few washcloths, being sure they're thoroughly warmed with water before taking them back to his boy.

The second one makes contact with him, Asa gasps and then moans, so damn beautifully. He arches and then curls into the warmth like Hayes is doing something very different to him, and then he goes limp, completely, slumped back against the bed with his eyes closed, shallow, shivering breaths his only sound.

"You poor baby," Hayes murmurs, wiping down his thighs, his legs, while Asa starts to cry again, so softly. "It's okay. It's okay now. Isn't it? It's okay?"

He grasps Asa's chin, squeezing his cheeks to get his eyes open again. "Say yes sir."

It takes a second. Possibly just a wait for the words to sink into a delirious mind. And then...

"Y-yes s-sir," Asa mumbles, nearly incoherent but there.

Hayes kisses him again, gentle and loving as he can. He praises Asa as he washes him, changing to different cloth when one gets too dirty, and then eventually eases him onto his stomach.

"Let's take care of these, now..."

"Nn..." Asa says into the pillow, and Hayes rests his head in a better position for him to speak, to breathe.

"What, love?"

"Nn...not...more..."

Hayes frowns, rubbing his shoulder. "But you like this, baby. You like me taking care of you. It feels good."

And then he looks down at the angry red of the gashes, and he realizes Asa thinks he's going to hurt them again.

Oh, perfect boy.

"No, no," he says. "No more alcohol. No, just hold on."

He gets up again, and returns to tears soaking into the pillow as Asa cries, trembling, watching him as he sits back down.

"Ssh. See? To help." He unscrews the top to a tube of ointment, stripes it along a finger, and then gently rubs it into the nearest wound.

Asa cries out, choked, and then quiets. He grunts every time Hayes touches somewhere open, but eventually he's less tense, his eyes closed again.

"Good boy...isn't that better? Doesn't that feel good?"

He runs his fingers through Asa's hair, tugging once. "Doesn't it?"

"Yes...sir..." comes the exhausted reply. The boy sounds like he's falling asleep, and isn't it just adorable?

"How about Master?" Hayes asks, knowing he's pushing his luck, but willing to try.

He truly doesn't think Asa will actually lick his lips and mumble out, "Ms't'r."

It does something good to Hayes. He starts kissing over every inch of Asa's skin, moaning softly as he does.

"I'm going to treat you so good," he promises. "I'm going to do everything for you. You're going to have food. You're going to have water. You'll sleep in bed. You're going to have pleasure, Asa...so much of it."

He can't fuck the boy now. He knows that. He's just too fragile.

But he's hard, desperate, and he lays right beside Asa much like their first night together, pulling himself free of his pants to pleasure himself while he kisses at Asa's shoulder.

"Mine," he whispers, and Asa looks right at him, eyes distant and dazed, only half-open, but aware. "Yeah. Hi, baby. Look how good you make me feel."

He smiles, and runs his hand down Asa's arm before taking Asa's hand—not as cold as it was before—and holding it in his own.

He's too weak to pull away.

Hayes chooses to think of it as he wants to help, though. Because of course he does. Hayes had just saved him. Given him water. Care.

The least he can do is show how grateful he is for it.

"Asa," Hayes gasps, as he pulls both of their hands back to himself. "Asa, I love you. I promise, I'm going to give you everything. I'm going to—give you—everything—oh, fuck, Asa—"

Asa flinches, when it's done. It's barely noticeable, just the tiniest jerk of his body as Hayes spills over their hands, and Hayes pants and grins over at his boy, kissing him hard as he recovers.

Asa's eyes are closed when he pulls back. They don't open again, even as he cleans his boy's hand off, and tucks him under the blanket, and curls up beside him.

"I love you," he tells his boy. "I love you."

Asa doesn't respond, unaware of it at all.

But he touches over those lips, pretty pink again instead of tinged blue, and imagines him saying it back.

Soon. God, so soon.

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