toxicbaes | I want your love and I want your revenge

"Nah, mate. No tip needed. It's my job and it's, uh, it's all free of charge." Bill got out of the tesla and handed the keys back to Barty, trying not to touch his fingers or anything. "Real nice car, hope you had a good time here."

He nervously shuffled back so he was standing by Alfie, unsure what to think about any of this. What sort of guy had a secret dungeon like that? It was so weird. Why not go to a club or something? That was way more normal.

"Have a good evening, sir." Hopefully the card was worth the trouble.

"Thank you, Bill." Barty considered his play for a moment here, palming the keys and then he decided that he couldn't resist. Not with how spooked and freaked out the boy looked. He gestured to the car with a nod of his head. "Make it a better evening, huh? Come with me."

Alfie's eyes widened even more and he interjected. "Er, he can't! He's still gotta work, shift's not over. Also, he... He has a boyfriend." So there. Was that believable? Alfie wasn't sure, so he took Bill's hand in his. "It's me."

Barty looked from one to the other, unconvinced. "Shame."

"Yeah, sorry mate. Gotta work... with my lover." Alfie, apparently. He looked Barty up and down. If he hadn't been someone he was robbing and also dude with a weird dungeon, he might have considered going back with him but nope, he was not going back there. The lock, the likely ass print he left on the bed, the card he still had in his jacket.

"I hope you have a good evening without me, sir. All the best." Bill put on a smile and let go of Alfie's hand because it was strangely moist and kind of weird to hold his mates hand.

"See you," Barty said, giving a nod again and finally getting in the car. He had some preparations to make. By the time he reached home, he'd found Bill Nash and was loading up all information that could be found about him.

He could make his move tomorrow. See where it'd lead.

Bill was used to doing drugs, passing out and waking up in weird places with a headache and sore eyes. It was basically his favourite pass time. At first, he didn't think much of waking up until he realised he was upright, which was weird. He pried his eyes open and the first thing he saw was the car.

The beautiful, black Tesla. There it was. Right in front of him. The fucking guy from the restaurant. Barty. It was his fucking car.

Which meant...

Eyes wide, Bill snapped himself away and looked up. Holy shit, he was tied up in a garage.

Having anticipated that this boy must have built up a certain resistance to drugs, Barty had used a higher dose than would have been necessary given his slight build. He noticed his movement from the corner of his eye, having the camera feed up on one of his screens. It made him stop what he was currently doing to watch instead, so he could witness the panic set in.

He hadn't done much yet. Taken all of his items away, obviously, and handcuffed him, both wrists, to the rack on the side wall of the garage. Many more things he could do, but his garage was soundproof. No need to go overboard too soon, he could wait a little. See what the boy would do, if he'd even try to get out, simply have a panic attack or what else.

"Okay, okay, okay. It's fine. You've gotten out of worse." Bill reminded himself as he felt along the handcuff to see what the key size was. Damn it, if he had his picks, he could have been out of this by now. He tried to see how much give they hand and pulled against them. Maybe if he pulled his thumb out of joint? But he fucking hated doing that.

He looked ahead at the car and wondered how the hell this guy got him? He didn't remember seeing him. How did he get so close? He tried to check for his phone but his pants were flat. No phone, no hands and a psycho on the loose. Great. "Fuck."

Squirmy little bloke, wasn't he? Barty watched him for a little while longer, just out of curiosity and to heighten his own anticipation. Then, finally, he made his way down to the garage. He opened the door and took the steps slowly, knowing that the sound would be heard in the garage.

Finally, he stepped through the door into the garage and walked over to stand in front of Bill, looking at him. "Nice seeing you again."

It was, overall. "I'm sorry. I really don't like rejection. Or little twinks touching my stuff without permission."

"Are you fucking kidding me?"

Well, how else did he respond to this shit? He was right, this bloke was a serial killer. Hopefully Alfie took him seriously when he said that if he didn't hear from him in the coming weeks, call the cops on this asshole. He looked Barty up and down and then yanked his hands more.

"I'm sorry I have a boyfriend and you told me to touch your car!" Bill defended, ready to fight with his feet if he had to.

"Uh-huh." Barty agreed, leaning back against said car now and pulling the padlock Bill had opened and left open when he'd broken in out of his pocket. He dangled it off his finger, raising his eyebrows. "I guess no one's explained to you yet how padlocks work. We can work on that."

A lot of education possibilities in that area. He had a lot of ideas already. "Do you like my house, Bill? You got to take a tour. Liked the automatic lights? So much fancy technology here."

He put the padlock back into his pocket for now, holding up his phone instead. And showing Bill the screen, playing the footage of Bill discovering the dungeon. "Hasn't it occurred to you that a house like this would have cameras?"

Oh. Well. Fuck.

"Nah." Fuck. His eyes widened and he looked at Barty for a while before eyeing up the ceiling, trying to work out how to worm his way out of this one. "Right, so, I can give you the stuff back. I didn't take anything much, honest. Like a pair of socks and ... stupid card didn't even work." He didn't know how to activate it so it was just in his jacket pocket. "You can call the cops, if you fancy."

Then he could warn them about psycho serial killer man who drugged him and tied him up. "Cause-Cause you don't wanna, like, you know, do this sort of thing. Then we're both in trouble..."

"I don't see why I'd be in trouble. No one's seen me take you." Barty shrugged, not overly worried. He also turned his phone around, put it into camera mode and took a few pictures of Bill right now. Negotiating phase. It was fun to witness.

"I'm not the biggest fan of cops. I prefer sorting things out personally. Man to man." He pushed away from the car and stepped closer to Bill, looking down at him. He ran his fingers through Bill's hair, then grabbed it to force his head back. Pretty boy, admittedly.

"You'll look cute when you're scared. I like that."

"If you're settling it man to man than you should let me go." Wasn't that usually a fight. Cause he was an alright fighter and maybe he could outrun this bastard after a few good hits and get to the cops. No way did this guy not have a murder basement somewhere or a creepy cabin in the woods he used to torture people. Maybe he was a fucking gangster! Fucker had Tesla money, he had to be corrupt somehow.

He gritted his teeth and glared at Barty, his pride wounded. "I'm not scared. This is just fucking stupid." He tried the cuffs again and then huffed in annoyance. "If you wanna settle it like men, let me go."

So he had an honest chance at winning.

"Well, I was thinking of a different kind of exercise, but sure." Barty shrugged his shoulders and then put his hand into the other pocket, fishing out the keys for the handcuffs. He handed them to Bill and stepped back again, leaning against the car and calmly watching.

Scrawny little boy. No, he was not worried about taking him in a fight. "Shame you want to do it the hard way."

Bill wasted little time taking the cuffs off. Well, he definitely called his bluff but come on, he stood a better chance. He was tall, thin and rich. Probably never had a fight in his poncy little life. "Come on, mate. 'Ave at it then."

He raised his fists and partially circled Barty, eyes on the front of the garage and then the door to the house. Probably the door to the house he wanted, then he could leave by the front door. He doubted the garage would open for him. "What? You scared to fight me. Pussy." He moved closer and spat at Barty, smirking a little before he surged forward and decked the bloody bastard in the face.

Ugh. How gross was that? Barty was relieved the spit didn't actually hit him, not that he liked it on his floor either, even if this was the garage. He didn't have time to obsess over that right now, he had a twink punching above his weight to deal with.

Barty was faster, for one thing. He moved his arm to keep Bill's hand from actually connecting with his face, then snatched his wrist. A moment later and he had thrown him over his shoulder onto the ground, hard.

He had a feeling that hard was the only way Bill would learn, so he was on top of him immediately, punching him in the face twice. Then he used a grip on his shoulder to bodily turn Bill around, so he was lying face down under him. He kept him pinned, sitting on his thighs and twisting his arms behind his back, sure to be painful.

"I suggest you give up."

Jesus, where the fuck did that come from? Bill groaned in pain and struggled under Barty, happy to play as unfair as he could as he tried to scratch at Barty and knock him off but nothing seemed to work. Barty was actually strong - who would have thought that? The posh bloke had him pinned.

"Get off me!"

He tried his best to get up but it was useless. He just needed a second. A fucking second of him releasing his weight and then he was legging it to the door. Should have just done that to begin with. "I'm gonna kick your teeth in, you arse!"

"Somehow I doubt that." Someone was slow about learning a lesson, it seemed. Barty took his wrists in one hand - they were slim enough - and forced them high up on his back, wanting it to hurt. With his free hand, he reached inside his inner jacket pocket and got his knife out. He'd come prepared, after all.

He held the blade against the side of Bill's face, wondering whether reality would sink in enough for him to hold still. "Don't move now. Show me you can be a good boy, Bill, or we will have to do this the hard way."

There was a knife against him and he had no idea what to do but he didn't stop struggling at first because why would he? The first reaction to have is not stay still, it's to panic... right? That was normal. Eventually he did finally still, lying on the floor with his face against the garage floor, eyeing up the knife from the side.

"You're a lunatic, you are. You can't fucking kill me, I told people about you. I told them you were dodgy and if I'm missing, it's you! I'm not an idiot." Not entirely, at least. "People will know." Well. Alfie knew. And maybe Tommy but Tommy was dead clever.

"Right. I think I can deal with your not so much boyfriend just fine. Read your messages. Very illuminating." Mostly reminded him of how gross twenty-something year olds could be.

Barty didn't cut him much, but he did cut him. On his cheek, just below the eye. To make it more real. To make him understand. "Anyway. I have no intention of killing you. You're much more fun alive."

He leaned over to grab the handcuffs and put them on Bill's wrists. "You broke into my house. I'll break you."

He hissed at the cut and closed his eyes, terrified this fucked would go up and try to stab his eye out. He couldn't predict him at all, he just knew he was bad news. Rich, strong and had a fucking torture dungeon. "It's not just my mate, I told other people!" Well, worth a try, maybe it would scare Barty into thinking twice.

God, he hoped Alfie was smart and told Tommy so he'd call the cops. That was his best odds. "Come on, mate. This is just nuts. I can pay you back and-and I'll not tell anyone about this, yeah?"

Barty simply didn't reply now, he kept a hold of the boy's cuffed hands and got off the floor, pulling Bill with him. Then, holding him close with an arm around him, he spoke near his ear as he gestured to the door. "Do you want to go up or down?"

He could terrify him either way, which was what he was really after. For a start. "You should stop arguing. Just gives me more incentive to shut you up."

So that was his options then? Murder basement or kinky dungeon. Fucking hell. "I-I wanna stay here." The garage was okay, not a lot of things in here and he was pretty sure if he had to, he could yell and someone might hear. If he got into that house, he was never getting back out. Fuck. "Let's stay, yeah?"

He closed his eyes, cursing whatever bad luck he had, wondering if he was really dodgy or just kind of freaky. "Come on, mate, I can make it worth your time to let me go. I'll ... suck you off? I'm good at it, promise. Then we call it quits."

"Of course you'll suck me off. I'm sure you'll do well. If you don't, I'm not feeding you." Seemed simple enough. Barty marched Bill along with him as he approached the door, which opened automatically once they were close enough.

He walked through the narrow hallway, Bill in front of him, then pressed the button on his keys that made the door to the basement open. Down worked for him. Gave Bill something to work towards.

It was dark here, brick walls and wooden stairs. And, once they started walking down and the light came out, the basement was clean. Clean, with a cage standing in it. Some rings on the wall, and a door leading to another room. Simple was best sometimes.

"Nah, I said garage. If it ain't an option, I should get to pick!" Bill insisted because that wasn't fair, he didn't want to pick the murder basement. He wanted to resist but he knew it was pointless to fight him. He had to think fast or he was going to be stuck in the murder basement.

What were the odds that yelling would work? The door was still open. What other tool did he have? Had to be somewhere nearby or maybe someone else had access to the cameras. "HELP!"

Worth a shot. He swung his leg back and kicked Barty as hard as he could, fighting against him to try and get back up those stairs. "THERE'S A MAD FUCKER HERE!"

I want your love and I want your revenge

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject