Log in

No account? Create an account
25 April 2013 @ 10:08 am
Original (Tomorrow Trilogy): In Due Time: Prompt #9: Fuck or Die, Table F  
Title: In Due Time
Author: theun4givables
Fandom: Original (Tomorrow Trilogy)
Characters/Pairing: Savin/Mitchel
Word Count: 5245
Genre: Slash
Rating: NC-17
Warning: Nature of the prompt lends itself to dubious consent, language, mentions of death and mild violence
Summary: The Resistance captures Savin and Mitchel and forces them to do unspeakable things to one another. Unspeakable, sexy things.
Disclaimer: I own these idiots.
Author's Notes: I write smut when I want to comfort myself, what can I say? This time it was because my child fractured his skull and my husband had a seizure.
Prompt: Table F, 09. Fuck or Die

This is certainly... Well, I would love to say unexpected, but as I explained to Bates before, sparing my life could be dangerous. I knew that no matter how thoroughly he designed a protective detail, it wouldn’t be enough.

I’d let him know of my displeasure, but he’s currently elsewhere. Likely still knocked out from the blow he received to the back of his head. My own head aches and feels clouded. Instead of focusing on the pain, I study my surroundings and take in every bit of the drab walls and filthy floors.

An interrogation room of sorts, no doubt. Whether Bates will join me or not is still up for debate. I know how the Resistance likes to play with its newest captures. How should the Emperor and his newest advisor be any different?

So when the door swings open and a disoriented and clamoring Bates is thrown into the room with me moments later, I’m not at all surprised. Bates doesn’t even seem to notice me, swiveling on his unsteady feet to run at and pound on the unwavering door.

Bates,” I say, giving my voice just enough volume for him to hear. Bates’s fists stop their relentless hammering, his shoulders tensing at the sound of my voice.

“Mitchel?” he dares to breathe. He lowers his fists, keeping them tightly clenched at his sides. He must have come to more recently than I; he sounds so unsure of himself. As if he can’t believe that he really heard my voice.

“Yes,” I answer, shifting my weight on the cold concrete floor. I look around once more. There must be a mirror in here somewhere, designed to blend in perfectly with the walls. They would want to watch us, study our behaviors -- see how we interact with one another.

For that reason alone, I keep my distance from Bates. The sound of my voice will have to be enough for now. “Where the fuck are we?” Bates snaps, causing me to turn my head towards him. He’s since moved away from the door. His glasses are cracked and his frames obviously bent, but still he refuses to just take them off his face.

“I don’t know,” I answer, keeping my voice short and even. The way his eyes flash, I know he knows I’m lying. I turn my eyes away from his and move towards one of the walls. “I’m assuming we’re in an interrogation room,” I say after a while, and I hope it’s enough for him to get the hint.

I can’t see his eyes behind those shattered frames, but the way he clenches his jaw says it all: he understood me. I watch as his fists return to his sides, as his thin body trembles. When he then swears under his breath and moves to the darkest corner of the room, I do my best to keep my face expressionless.

We’re enemies, after all. Always have been, even if we have been forced to rely on each other’s company. We may still be enemies, but we have an understanding.

And neither of us wants to give that fact away.



Bates’s voice is anything but calm. I look over at him, arching an eyebrow. “Yes, Emperor?” I prompt him, keeping my voice devoid of emotion. Bates removes useless frames from in front of his eyes. No doubt he’s trying to keep his hands busy, just like he always does when he’s nervous.

And he has every right to be. Judging by the growling made by my own stomach, we’ve been sitting here for several hours. The whole time, we haven’t so much as let a word pass our lips. Didn’t want to give any indication that we are far more comfortable with one another than either one of us would like to admit.

Bates looks up at me, his lips pressed together in a very thin line. Nervous, and aware that he must be careful of whatever he says. His eyes never leave mine, and his fingers never stop turning over the crumpled frames in his hands. Obviously he’s considering his next words very carefully. “Do you remember anything about your attack?”

He must not remember his own, then. And as I think back on it, the only thing I know is the radiating pain at the base of my skull. “I do not,” I answer honestly.

Bates nods, his hand tightening around his glasses. Then he releases them entirely, throwing them against the nearest wall and putting his head in his hands. His fingers are gripping his scalp so tightly I wouldn’t be surprised if he were drawing his own blood. I look away from him and force myself to remain relaxed.

The man was never in control of his emotions. It’s why I’ve always been successful at pushing him. Always succeeded in bringing forth his anger. In confronting it. It amazes me, that a man with such a renowned medical career can hardly keep his own emotions in check.

And as Bates begins to sob quietly, that’s the exact moment the lights of the room switch on, illuminating the both of us. I let my eyes adjust, refusing to move until I hear the inevitable announcement.

“Mitchel Foraker. It’s so good to see you,” a disembodied voice intones from above. Bates jumps and looks about the room wildly. “Emperor Bates, it’s good to see that you’re paying attention. Please, settle down. We’ll explain what we want from you both shortly.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Bates snaps, raising his eyes to the low ceiling. He pushes himself up from his corner, crossing his arms over his chest. Judging by how he stumbles, he’s still disoriented. His blow to the head must have been harder than mine. “Just tell us what you want from us already and get it over with.”

“Ah, there’s no need to be so impatient, Emperor,” I murmur, trying to pull his attention onto me. I stand up from the ground as well, taking care to dust myself off even if it is pointless. “They will tell us what they want in good time.”

Bates narrows his eyes at me. “This is all your fucking fault, isn’t it?” he growls. In a blink of an eye he’s on top of me, hands gripping the front of my shirt like vices, pulling me close to him. “You fucking set this all up, didn’t you?”

“Please, Savin,” I mutter, wrapping my fingers around his wrists. The touch soothes him, causes him to let me go. Or maybe it was my tone. No matter, either way, he’s backed off, and that’s what I wanted. “Why would I have them capture me, as well, if this was all part of some elaborate plan?”

“Because that’s exactly the sort of shit you’d pull!” Savin spits. He clenches his jaw and purses his lips, as if he were going to say something else. I know better. I could feel his hands shake as I pulled them away from me -- could hear the slight quake in his voice. He’s frightened.

And he’s currently looking towards me for guidance. I turn my nose up towards the ceiling, keeping my expression neutral. “I can assure you, Bates, I had no hand in this turn of events.”

“He has not,” the voice from earlier continues. Savin jumps again. The poor man’s nerves are shot. “We have a deal to make with you both.”

Savin crosses his arms over his chest and closes his eyes. When his hand moves to his face and pinches the bridge of his nose, I turn away from him. It’s not like I can stop him from speaking, even though I know he shouldn’t. “I’m not doing anything that would pose a threat to my Empire.”

The voice snorts, then erupts into uproarious laughter. “Your Empire has already fallen apart, Emperor. No, this deal requires something a little...different for you both.”

There’s a pause. I can feel Savin’s gaze bore holes into the back of my skull, but I refuse to look at him, now. Then he can’t see the way I’m clenching my own jaw. If they don’t want information from either one of us, then it’s obvious they want something else. Sometimes they simply like to break their captives in unique and...unusual ways.

“Please keep in mind, if the two of you won’t cooperate, we will kill you both,” the voice continues eventually. There’s a laziness to it, one that I’m certain Savin doesn’t take seriously. It’s difficult to keep my expression neutral as I wait for the inevitable.

“So what is it that you want us to do?” Savin asks.

“We’ll move you both to a different room, first,” the voice answers, just as the door swings open a second time. I don’t recognize the man that stands before us -- nor do I recognize the hired muscle that steps in immediately after him.

Even if I did, it’s not as if there were a single thing we could do. They’re on top of us in seconds, wrenching our arms behind our backs and plunging needles into our arms.

The grin on the unnamed man’s face is the last thing I focus on as the world fades out around me.


Regaining consciousness seems to take a lengthy period of time, but I’m sure it’s only been a matter of minutes. Maybe hours. My head feels as if it’s being shredded into several smaller pieces, and I can hardly open my eyes.

Christ,” a voice spits beside me. I have to snort, shaking my head just a fraction and noticing the immediate increase in pain. “They didn’t have to fucking drug us.”

The fog from earlier has returned tenfold, blurring my vision just as much as my thoughts. The voice next to me sounds familiar. “Bates?”

“Mitchel?” There’s a groan and the ground -- is that the ground? -- shifts underneath me. “Where the fuck are we?”

“You’re in one of our...special interrogation rooms.” Another voice. Familiar, but not in the same way as Bates. Memories begin to filter through like the pinpricks of light shining from above. That would be the voice of our captor.

“Special” interrogation room. I snap my eyes open and look around, noticing quickly that the “ground” isn’t ground at all. I set my lips into a thin line and glance over at Bates.

“Mitchel, I’m sure you’re aware of what we’re about to ask of the two of you,” the voice continues. He must have seen the way my expression changed as realization overtook it.

“Yes,” I answer, feeling my lips barely move as I speak. Bates glares over at me, his arms tightly crossing over his chest. To be quite honest, it’s difficult to tell if he’s glaring, or if he’s simply squinting. He purses his lips together and even bites his bottom lip -- a habit I think he picked up from his late husband.

“What do they want us to do?” he asks, his voice quiet. It doesn’t shake, but there’s a hint of uncertainty to it. He’s still frightened, then.

I gesture to the bed we’re both on top of with a slight raise of my shoulder and wave of my hand. “It’s -- a form of torture,” I murmur. “And they will kill us if we don’t.”

Savin’s eyebrows knit so close together it’s difficult to see that there are two of them. His mouth falls open as he looks behind me, noticing that we seem to be in a bedroom. One that’s sparsely furnished and has no windows, but a bedroom all the same.

“You’re fucking kidding me,” is his delayed response. He shuffles off of the bed, nearly falling flat on his face as he moves away from me as quickly as possible. “I don’t care if this really is my last night on fucking Earth, I’m not doing that with you.”

“You’ll have to,” the voice replies, its tone thick with amusement. “You have twenty-four hours to cooperate. If not, we’ll start with a certain Dr. Hadley.”

“Start what with Mari?” Savin snaps, his eyes darting around the room. The fear is all too evident in his voice now. He’s playing right into their hands, and I am unsure of how to get him to calm down.

Callahan would know how to. Unfortunately for the both of us, Callahan is no longer here with us. Either way, I find that I’m pushing myself off the bed with ease. My hand moves to my throat -- there’s no tie there, though we both are certainly still clothed. Savin doesn’t notice as I come up from behind him, lightly placing a hand on his arm.

“They won’t answer you,” I say, forcing Savin to focus all of his attention on me again. He snaps his arm out from under my hand quickly, backing away. “It’s futile to even ask.”

Savin clenches his jaw, his nails gripping his upper arms so tightly I’m sure he’s leaving bruises on himself. He eyes me warily, his gaze trailing the length of my body as a thoughtful look crosses his features, but only briefly. “They really will kill us if we don’t...?” he trails off. His cheeks redden. Interesting.

“They will,” is my succinct answer. I clear my throat. “And the more we hesitate, the more threats they will pile on.”

“Empty ones?” Savin asks, and for a moment, hope flashes in his eyes.

I hate to squash it, but I must. “Unfortunately, no.”

The hope dies, and I allow myself to frown. Savin covers his face with his hands and moans into them. Empire aside, the man has more to lose than I. Family. Friends. Things I no longer have; things I haven’t had in years.

“Then we don’t really have a fucking choice, do we?” he mumbles through his fingers. His shoulders tremble and he buries his fingers in his hair, raking it back. Savin doesn’t look at me as he sniffs.

“It’s just sex,” I reassure him, shrugging my shoulder. “As much as we despise each other, surely we can put that aside long enough to protect our own lives and the people we care about?”

Savin’s eyes widen and he finally looks over at me. Studies me, as if he were trying to determine if I were completely serious. I am. It is just sex. “You can’t be serious,” he mutters, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“Is the idea truly that repulsive?” I ask him, snorting. “I’ve walked in on you and Callahan quite a few times, Emperor. I know how much you actually enjoy the activity.”

“I --” he falters, stumbling over his own words. “It’s -- that’s fucking different. He was my husband, you’re --” He cuts himself off with a huff, shaking his head. “You’re you.”

His face turns an even deeper shade of scarlet than a moment ago. I don’t fight the smirk fighting for dominance over my features, either, as I move closer to him. “The longer you fight it, Bates, the more damage they can do,” I murmur, daring to brush my fingers against his cheek.

Savin flinches, but otherwise remains where he is, his arms folded over his chest so tightly I’m uncertain he’s allowing himself to breathe. He blinks away this shimmering in his eyes and looks away from me, his chest heaving. “What the fuck do they want?” he whines, squeezing his eyes shut as he pinches the bridge of his nose.

“I don’t know,” I whisper, withdrawing my hand.

I have a feeling it’ll be several hours before Savin even remotely agrees to follow their orders. It would be all too easy to overpower him and accomplish meeting their demands, but...

I’d rather wait until he’s ready -- given that there’s still time.


Hours have passed. I’m not sure how many, but both of our stomachs are rumbling, sometimes in unison. Considering Bates’s preferred profession, it must be more than twelve since we’ve been abducted. He lies in the bed, flexing his fingers and staring at the ceiling. The sheets are a plain white, and he shivers with the chill of the room.

No words pass through his lips. Not ones I can understand, anyway. I suspect his parents taught him a forgotten language, one his tongue is still clumsy at. It amazes me, sometimes, the random bits of knowledge this man has. How easily he acquires others. As much as I have never liked his temperament, his ability to learn has served him well. Made him a decent politician, even if his late husband was better suited for the role.

And I know he’s thinking. Turning each possible scenario over in his mind. And I wait. I’ve already asked myself what I would do, if I found myself in one of these rooms with another person. I’ve already arrived at the answer, months and months ago, when I first considered defecting to the Resistance and taking the Empire down from the inside.

“...desu ka?” Bates asks, turning his head towards me. He gives me this expectant look and waits for my response.

“Hm?” I spread my legs out before me and stretch my back against the wall. “I’m afraid I don’t speak that language,” I clarify when his eyebrows knit together again.

“Oh,” he grunts, sitting up. He frowns, his eyes focusing on some point beyond my head. “I asked if you were alright.”

“Splendiferous,” I answer, allowing a tight smile to grace my lips. I study the room yet again, trying to discern where the cameras might be. “You?”

“Fantastic,” he mutters sardonically. “I’m about to be forced to have sex with my least favorite person in existence. How the hell do you think I’m doing?”

“No one’s forcing you,” I return, gathering myself up from the ground. I dust off my clothes again and straighten my sleeves.

“Threatening our lives and the lives of those we care about if we don’t doesn’t exactly make it consensual, either,” Bates growls, his frown deepening. He traces several shapes into the bedspread with his finger.

I arch an eyebrow. “I figured one as ah, eager as you would have already given in to their demands. It’s just sex, after all.”

“If it’s that simple then you make the first move, asshole,” Bates snaps, crossing his arms over his chest. Irritation builds at the base of my skull, but I ignore that in favor of smirking at him.

“Are you sure you want me to, Savin?” I prompt, approaching the bed with quiet footsteps. Savin’s finger stops tracing those shapes as his whole body tenses. He then scrambles backward, pressing himself against the wall beside the bed.

“The fuck do you think you’re doing, Mitchel?” he hisses as I climb onto the bed in front of him.

“You told me to make the first move, Emperor,” I murmur. Despite how easy it would be for him to move away from me, he doesn’t. Savin remains directly in front of me and only flinches as I grip his chin. Those emerald eyes narrow at me, flashing in warning.

But there’s also a hint of interest, buried deep inside them. My hand never leaves his chin as I close the distance between us. “So I am,” I breathe against his lips as I pull away. Hardly a kiss at all, really, but I know he needs to be comfortable.

His jaw relaxes and clenches again as he wrenches his head away from me. “I can’t,” he gasps, pushing me away from him. His fingers desperately move to push his non-existent glasses back in front of his eyes. “You’re not -- I can’t.”

“Callahan would understand,” I state simply, grabbing his wrist and holding him in place. “It’s to save your life, Savin. Dr. Hadley’s life.”

Savin’s lips press themselves into a thin line, his eyes hard again as he studies me. “What about yourself?”

I scoff, shaking my head. “My life doesn’t mean anything to you. I killed your precious husband. But do you really want your friends to suffer? Or your remaining family?”

I can hear Savin grind his teeth together as he pulls himself free of my grip. He glares at me, his lips twitching. After a moment, his eyes soften and his shoulders sag. It’s possibly the most defeated I’ve seen him since we’ve been captured.

Fine,” he spits, his nostrils flaring with anger. “Just -- no more fucking kissing me, okay?”

“Fine,” I answer, smirking half-heartedly at him. Savin rolls his eyes, tugging off his own shirt quickly. Every little motion is filled with frustration and contempt as he continues to disrobe. After a moment, I follow his lead. There’s a small pile of clothes at the bottom edge of the bed by the time Savin pulls his knees up to his chest, wrapping an arm around his legs loosely.

Shy, is he? Unlike him, but given the circumstances, I can’t say I blame him. There is at least one pair of eyes watching our every move -- if not more than that. His eyes meet mine and he lets his arm fall away from around his legs. “Who’s gonna --” his voice cracks and he clears his throat, the sound just as nervous as his body language, “Who’s gonna be on top?”

“Does it matter?” I respond, raising an eyebrow. “You’re taller than I am. But it’s my preference to be in control.”

“Same here,” Savin admits quietly, turning his gaze away from me. His face turns a paler shade of green than his eyes. “I don’t -- I’m not sure I can even get it up, like this.”

Ah. “Well then, it may be best if I get things started, then,” I murmur, moving in close to him. I drag a tentative finger along his collarbone, relishing in the way his eyes immediately flutter closed. I know he asked me to no longer kiss him, but I lean in so that my lips brush against his neck as I speak. “You can stop me at any time,” I breathe, “but they will make us have sex, and it’s better for everyone if we do it sooner rather than later.”

Savin nods, tilting his chin to give my lips better access to his throat. “Just -- make it fucking quick,” he orders, a quiet gasp escaping him as my hand travels down the length of his torso.

“Of course, Emperor,” I mutter. He doesn’t dare open his eyes as my hand moves even lower. He’s still soft, but when my tongue trails the edge of his collarbone, it doesn’t take long for him to become aroused.

He’s compliant as I push him down onto the bed, my mouth moving down his chest slowly. Despite his request for this to be quick, I’m not certain I can oblige. I know my past associates are watching. Part of me does want to put on a bit of a show for them. Either way, Savin doesn’t stop me or request for me to hasten my pace.

There’s another quiet gasp as I tease the head of his shaft. Savin even writhes as I swallow him. I keep each bob of my head shallow, careful not to take too much of him in my mouth at once. I need him to be comfortable, relaxed.

They never leave lube in the rooms. Not even when two men are subjected to this particular brand of torture. Savin’s fingers thread themselves through my hair, pushing me further down his length, and those thoughts vanish. The way his nails dig into my scalp causes me to moan around him.

“M-Mitchel,” he gasps, his hips rolling underneath my hands. “S-Stop.”

I just dip my head lower before tracing the underside of his shaft with my tongue on the way back up. He shivers under my hands, a moan escaping his lips. “Any particular reason why?” I ask, flicking my tongue along the slit of his head.

“Don’t wanna -- don’t wanna come yet,” he manages, his breathing far more ragged already than I thought. “Been a while,” he continues, glancing down at me. His face is flushed and just darkens as I pull my mouth away from him entirely. I position myself better, letting my fingers press against the tight ring of muscle slowly.

“You can take some pain, can’t you, Bates?” I breathe, bending forward to swirl my tongue around the head of his arousal again. He jumps, then relaxes against my fingers as they continue to work their way inside him.

Savin writhes against my fingers, bearing down on me as he frantically nods his head. “I can,” he moans. “Just -- just need time.”

“Of course,” I murmur, smirking as I then move my fingers. My thrusts with them are shallow as I try to curl my fingers. I should be able to strike his spot with them, with the way my hand is positioned. When I do, this yelp bursts past his lips.

My own breath catches in my throat. For the first time since we’ve started, I take a moment to truly look at him. Savin responds to each movement of my fingers enthusiastically, bucking his hips and gripping the sheets of the bed so tightly his knuckles have lost all their color. But it’s the way he throws his head back that causes my thin patience to snap.

He whimpers when my fingers leave him, his whole body heaving with need. He even claws at me, pulling me closer to him when I spread his legs and slip between them. I press against his backside, chuckling as he wraps his legs around my waist. “Thought you didn’t want this, Emperor?” I murmur as I lean forward to catch a nipple with my teeth. I’m not in him yet, but the way he squirms against me is quite telling.

Savin just rolls his eyes and his hips. “I don’t,” he mutters, his sentence punctuated with a rather loud gasp as I push into him. Pain registers on his face, his features screwing up into a tight grimace. But he doesn’t stop me, not even as he whimpers and digs his nails into whatever parts of me he can reach.

I ghost my fingers along his torso and down the inside of his parted thighs, hoping the extra touches will garner more of his attention than my own arousal burying itself deep inside him. We remain that way for a moment, his face slowly relaxing as he moves his hips against me, shifting his weight -- no doubt in an effort to make himself more comfortable.

“Ready?” I purr, dragging a finger along his length. His breath hitches at the small touch. Beautiful, really, the way his hair still manages to cover part of his face as he nods his head.

I shake my head, vanquishing that thought away as I roll my hips once. Savin pushes me away reflexively, but my grip on his hips keeps him in place. He even chews his lip as his eyes pinch shut again.

I almost stop, but his hands are on me, running along my chest and shoulders, as if they were trying to memorize every inch of me. “Keep -- keep going,” he groans, arching his back as I thrust into him once again. I can actually move inside him now -- a sign that he’s relaxed enough for this to work.

It’s all the permission I need as I continue to move my hips at a steady pace. Each thrust is punctuated with a quiet noise of pleasure escaping Savin’s lips. They only grow louder the harder I thrust into him, the more I let my lips brush against his skin. I know he said no more kissing. I know he did. But he meant just kissing his lips -- not every other inch of his body, right?

I shift my weight on my knees, burying myself so deeply in him that he yelps, his whole body jumping and writhing. Nails claw at my back, digging in deeper as I grow more and more impatient. When my teeth graze his throat, he just turns his head and gives me more access.

Our bodies move in unison and I can feel his begin to tighten around me, the cries leaving his lips growing louder, more desperate. Distracting me from the task at hand. I want to draw them out, possibly want him to remain this way underneath me for hours, inhibitions obviously forgotten as he just spreads his legs even wider to give me greater access.

When his hand begins to stroke his own arousal, I wrap my hand around his and halt him. “Not yet,” I grunt. “I’m not -- not done yet.”

Savin whimpers, throwing his head back as he reaches behind his head to grasp the pillow. “Need to,” he manages, his cheeks turning scarlet. “Gonna -- gonna explode.”

I smirk at him. “You won’t,” I murmur, leaning forward to watch his ear with my teeth. My own control is slipping, though, as he tenses around me. As he gasps and writhes. Just a little further. I’m not necessarily teasing him -- I’m giving him everything I have, slamming my body against his, filling and stretching him as much as I can. I just want one more thing before I give him release.

My hand grips his chin as I bend him nearly in half, my lips hungrily claiming his. Instead of moving away from me, his tongue responds eagerly to mine, a moan rising from deep in his throat. I chuckle into the kiss, taking it as deep as I can just as I pound into him.

We break apart, his lips still parted and his eyes half-lidded, clouded with pleasure and every bit as desperate as they were a moment ago. I shift again, reaching down and stroking him in time with my thrusts. The rhythm of our bodies never relent, not even as he tenses one final time and cries out the loudest he has yet, coming into my hand. I keep stroking him, relishing in his whimpers and increased thrashing as his sensitivity reaches its peak.

I come a moment later, a strangled moan escaping my lips as I do. I don’t want to stop. I just want to keep going, but after a few more thrusts, it’s too much and I have to. We pull apart entirely, both desperate to catch our breath and neither one of us willing to meet the other’s eyes, first.

I don’t have the heart to tell him that we’re going to have to do this multiple times, and that they likely will never let us go, no matter how much we talk. Not yet. Not as his eyes drift closed, his breathing evening out.

He’ll find out, soon enough.