A/N: A somewhat creepy one-shot that's been sitting on my computer for almost two years. I remember starting it off with a thief caught by the owner of the house and being forced to submit, but yeah, it doesn't quite go that way…

Warnings: Bondage, threats of torture, underage sex/non-con (at first..), and some bloodsucking (no-one's a vampire, it's just a fetish)

P.S: I didn't know which Category to put this in (it ain't exactly a romance), but I felt horror was the best one. I guess it's okay here?

X

This isn't how it's supposed to be.

That was the only thing going through Mali's brain as a warm tongue brushed casually over his sensitive right nipple. Like any normal human being, his back leapt up the bed and a guttural groan issued from between his chewed lips. His eyes were shuttered closed against the dimly lit ceiling, making his other senses work extra hard to pick out every single detail of his situation.

There was the lovingly used pillow under his head. The hum of the A/C pushing chilled air over his flushed skin. He tingled all over like a raw nerve, and his vaguely suppressed groans covered the dull rumble of any outside noise. The body hovering over him was warm and large, almost sheltering. A rigid penis dug into his thigh and coaxed an indecent desire into his quivering frame. Warm cum drew over his skin slowly as an equally wet and pleasant tongue ghosted over his collarbone and up to his neckline. Teeth replaced it to nip gently at his jaw as forefinger and thumb pinched and tugged on his previously teased nipple.

"Oh," he murmured, rolling his hips up to make more contact, though his poor, rational brain struggled to remind him that this wasn't supposed to be happening. This wasn't right. He shouldn't be in this predicament. It was all wrong.

But it felt too, too good.

"I don't know who you are," the man above him spoke into his ear, "or what you want-"

"I told you, I don't want anything!" he pleaded, but was quickly hushed with an open mouthed kiss that he couldn't help but react to. His arms strained in their bonds to wrap tightly around the other's broader shoulders and he squeezed his eyes more, needy and wanting all over.

The man broke away from him, leaving him to pant roughly. "You're a thief," he hissed lowly, "a rotten, dirty thief! You know what people used to do to those who stole? They chopped off their hands. You like your hands where they are, don't you?"

Against his best wishes, Mali could feel tears curling about his lashes. "I wasn't trying to steal anything," he whispered, "please don't hurt me, please… I'm only sixteen, please…"

If he had hoped to get any sympathy by throwing his age out there, he was sorely mistaken.

"Sixteen's old enough to know right from wrong. Thief."

Mali whimpered as his tears broke loose. In a mocking attempt at comfort, the man kissed them away and migrated back to his mouth to give him a sweet, closed mouthed kiss.

That time Mali didn't react. He laid as still as possible, praying that he was elsewhere. Back on the street, sleeping under bridges, begging for a little money on the corner. If he had known that this was how his life would end, he never would've listened to those teenagers who fed him empty promises if he showed that he was man enough to live. They sent him to his death knowingly.

The man continued thumbing away his tears and moved his face down to suckle on Mali's thin shoulder. The teen turned his head to the side in faint disgust, confused over the man's strange behavior.

He'd been doing it ever since he caught Mali ducking behind one of the armchairs in the living room, first dragging him up to his bedroom, then once there, he had touched him all over. At first he thought he'd just get raped and set free, but after a few nips to the neck and gropes to the groin, he was forced down onto the bed, stripped, and tied in place with leather belts by his wrists.

And then it got dodgy, as the man alternated equally between loving and distrustful. He didn't believe Mali when he told him that he'd only been challenged to break in and flick lights to show he had done it, and had been threatening him in earnest. But after he had his say, he'd caress his cheek or fondle the inside of his soft thigh, all without a word. It was scary, and he didn't know if he'd ever see the light of day again.

"Tell me your name."

Mali kept his face angled away as hot breath ghosted over his ear. When he didn't answer right away, sharp teeth pricked at his lobe.

"It-it's Mali…"

"Weird name."

"It's short f-for M-Malakai."

"Still weird." Without saying anything more, the man crawled off him and stood up. His footsteps went across the carpeted floor and out the door, allowing, for the first time, Mali to take in a breath of much needed air and let out an earnest sob.

With no one there to wipe them away, his tears cascaded rapidly over his sunken in cheeks and soaked into his unkempt dark hair and the pillow under it. He refrained from looking down at himself and at all the various hickeys dotting his chest and stomach, knowing that if he did he'd probably throw up.

When the man was being quiet, the pleasure he had bestowed upon the teen had been nice, and almost welcomed, but he didn't want to be there. It wasn't the first time he'd been another man's plaything, wasn't the first time he'd been touched or threatened with a beating if he didn't obey, but it was the first time one of them had talked about taking his hands. And now that he had left, it became all too real and entirely too possible that he went to retrieve a knife to make due of his promises.

Fruitlessly, he tugged on his bindings, but they were on too tight and he had virtually no strength to do much of anything. Except take it.

When the footsteps returned, Mali whimpered loudly and began breathing faster, his nose running with sniffles, his heart thumping in his ears and a small puddle of urine forming under him. He had no dignity left, hadn't really had any in years, and begged for his life as the bed dipped.

"Shh, shh, Mali," he man soothed, and wiped his sweaty brow.

He jerked away, close to hyperventilating.

He hoped he wouldn't be slow about it, hoped that he wouldn't take his time to hear him scream and attempt calming him down like a child waking from a nightmare. He didn't want to feel that pain. He didn't want to feel it wash over and drown him into a dull haze; it'd follow him all the way to the grave.

"Malakai," the man tisked and leaned away. The crinkly sound of a packet opening instantly caught the teen's attention, and for the first time since he'd been tied down, he opened his eyes and took a small peek.

Right away, he recognized the square packet as being a condom wrapper, and couldn't help but notice that positioned between the man's muscular thighs was a small, unscrewed bottle. There wasn't a knife of any sort in sight.

"Wh-what are you doing?" he blubbered.

Light green eyes shot up and met his, instantly stunning him in place. With his unusual, borderline schizo behavior, Mali expected him to look like a monster under the dim lights. He wanted to hate his handsome smile and finely combed blonde locks, but couldn't. He was too nice looking, too human. Why did he have to be so ugly on the inside?

The man smiled at the eye contact. "What does it look like?" He made sure the teen was watching him closely before raising the slip of rubber up into sight. He held it delicately between his index and thumb, then slid it firmly over his well-developed erection. He took the bottle, held it up as well, and squirted a healthy dose onto his fingers.

Mali seized up as the man grabbed his thighs and drew them apart, his breathing turning harsher as the man probed his anus gently. He stared quickly between the man's serene face and what he was doing, a question burning on the tip of his tongue, but nothing came out except a shuddering gasp as the slicked fingers entered him. He expected the lube to be nothing more than cold lotion, only to be surprised as it smeared hot and thickly against his unsure muscles.

Amidst the fear his arousal returned tenfold, causing him to moan and lean his head back in pleasure. He tugged unconsciously on his restraints and spread his legs wider, urging him on. The man chuckled and scissored his two fingers, confusing and startling Mali into near submission.

His first time with a man hadn't been like this. He was treated like an object and penetrated without any preparation. He wasn't even allowed to voice his opinion on the matter or even allowed to moan once it started to feel good. All that was required of him was to lie there and shut up, never mind letting the other man know if he liked it or not.

But not this man.

He encouraged Mali to squirm with desire, and he liked it when he panted and shuddered with need. And as though to reward him, he leant over and wrapped his tongue about his hard penis, much like a snake to its prey, and lovingly took him into his mouth with no heed of what it just emitted.

The idea that the man was a homicidal maniac whisked away. Any moment he could snap, as Mali was well aware, but nothing of that sort happened and sweet, sweet pleasure gelled up his groin and to his heaving stomach, swelling in his veins and turning his face a ripe red. He made an attempt to wrap his legs about the man's head to urge him closer, but the blonde ignored him and began withdrawing his fingers, prompting a hearty murr of disappointment, until he eased them back in along with a rough massage from his tongue.

Mali buckled again, the sounds escaping his mouth a plethora of heaves and mewls. The man kept doing it and began bobbing his head, sucking more of the teen into his mouth until his head brushed up against the back of his throat. When he swallowed, it was like nothing Mali had ever felt before. The warm caress and constraint of the man's mouth gave power and suggestion, and after just a few sucks and swallows, the teen gladly went rigid and released. To his inner pleasure, the man drank him down.

Once done, he leaned back and used his free hand to wipe his lips, a quirky smile to them. "Yum yum."

Mali blushed and looked away.

"Mali, I want to ask you something."

The teen looked about slowly, not saying a word, even as the man withdrew from his malnourished body completely. More lube was squeezed into his hand, but instead he massaged it onto the condom, making it glisten. With ease, he crawled back over the teen and pushed back strands of his hair before reaching down for his long legs and wrapping them one at a time around his waist. Mali held on with his ankles hooked, the organ in his thin chest pattering in anticipation.

"Now, I don't want you, freaking out or anything," he chuckled, rubbing his protected head against the puckered rim, "but I have a proposition for you."

He pushed himself inside leisurely, causing Mali to squirm and choke, liking and hating the wide girth and the nearly forced sex. Nothing more was said as he entered all the way, ground against the boy a few times then pulled out. He returned in a matter of seconds with a smart snap of his hips, enticing a cry of confliction and a renewed struggle against his bonds. The lube was doing its job of heightening the craving to its max, and as the man thrust rhythmically, Mali found no shame in empty mutters.

"Ah… ah… harder… harder!"

The man gave it to him with a sneaky grin, not once moaning at the sinfully tight heat he was pounding into. The lack of that nearly drove Mali crazy. For some unknown reason, he wanted to hear the man pant, wanted to hear or see him give a sign of liking their non-consensual sex. He just wanted a hint of emotion!

"Fuck me!" he cried, seeking out the jaded eyes, "Please!"

The man just grinned at him with a flash of pointed canines. Mali didn't think anything of it, too wrapped up in lust to really care, and only found it erotic as those same teeth punctured the strained skin of his neck. He bucked his hips up to slam into the man's, his head rolling to allow more room for the tickling lap of moist tongue.

As blood was sucked from his veins, a hint of renewed vigor almost had him reeling. Adrenaline urged him to fight back, to not allow himself to be the plaything of whatever he was, but…

"Mali, be mine," the man murmured in between the slamming of their bodies, "stay with me."

They locked eyes.

"Stay with me…"

Mali watched, entranced, as the green shifted darker, solemn in emotion. It didn't sit right that he seemed so desensitized to the situation, and for a second he thought it all had something to do with age and experience.

"Malakai…"

His body stiffened at the whisper, and he nodded, though he had no idea what he was agreeing to. The man didn't seem to care to elaborate and merely lowered his head to suckle earnestly on his wound, and for the first time, moaned.

Mali winced and attempted shrugging him off, but his puny strength depleted faster than he could blink, and as the black edges of unconsciousness drifted in tendrils into his sight, he knew, without a doubt, that he would die in the throes of passion.

X

A/N: Ah, cliffhangers… and no, I won't be continuing this. Use yo' imaginations!