Notes:  AJ is very, very stoned on the tranq.  Had a cat experience
PCP once.  I still have the scar on my nose.  Unbeta'ed suggestions
more than welcome.

Feedback: I crave it. It's my favorite high.
 

****
Perspectives
2001 Angelia Sparrow
****
 
 

Rick deposited AJ on the bed and watched him sleep.
PCP was nasty stuff, especially in animal-sedating doses.
Damn the kid anyhow for getting in the way of the tranq dart.

"Rick, honey?"

He went to the top of the stairs.  Cecelia was at the door
with her coat on.  She looked up.

"AJ's going to be OK?"

"Yeah, Mom."

"Good.  Then I'll go home.  You boys stay out of trouble."

"Night, Mom."

The door shut behind her and Rick went back to the bedroom,
blessing his unflappable mother.  She'd never batted an eye when he'd
walked in with his brother draped over his shoulder.  He looked at AJ, unconscious
on the bed, still in a coat and tie, even over his jeans.

Oh, yeah, his jeans.  They had felt so good under his.  The way
the kid had fought and squirmed and tried to bite his hand had been a
real turn-on, even if he knew it was only the drugs.  He sat and thought
about this for a long time, wondering and worrying.

Why did he turn on to the fight?  Did this mean he was a sadist or even
a rapist?  The memory of his brother writhing beneath him chased
the worries from his mind.

AJ couldn't be comfortable in the tie, and it was probably dangerous
to let him sleep in it.  Rick loosened it, and took it off, letting the
silk slide through his fingers.  He wrapped it around one wrist,
and pulled it tight.  That wouldn't hurt a bit.

When the PCP wore off, there was a chance that AJ would have a psychotic episode,
a frenzy or even a seizure.  It might be best if he couldn't hurt himself.

Rick sat AJ up and eased him out of his jacket.  It was harder than he thought
it would be.  His brother was 180 pounds of dead weight as he took off the shirt
and opened the jeans.  He laid AJ down gently and tugged the jeans and socks off.
All that was left were the black cotton briefs.

AJ looked so hot like that, all blond and pale with the black underwear setting
off his skin.  Rick swallowed hard and went to AJ's closet.  There was no need
to rummage, since his brother was obsessively neat.  All the ties were hung
according to color on a motorized tie rack.  He felt each in turn, wanting
the smoothest, the softest, the strongest.  Finally selecting the four,
he walked back to the bed, and spread AJ's limbs.  The ankles were easy, since
AJ's long legs spread almost to the corners of the bed.

Rick tied the first tie around one ankle, and then paused.
If the kid threw up, tied on his back, he'd aspirate for sure.
Carefully, he rolled his brother onto his stomach, and then restrained him.

"Always knew being a boy scout would come in handy someday, kid," he told
the unconscious AJ.  "That should hold you against the worst seizure.
Now, I need some sleep."  He made himself comfortable in the chair and
was gone.

Swimming up out of the blackness, AJ tried to make sense of his
surroundings.  He was on his stomach and couldn't move.  He took as
careful stock as his fuddled brain would let him.  He felt smooth,
strong bonds at his wrists, holding him prone and spread-eagle.

He was naked.

That fact registered with sharp suddenness, and a spike of fear.
Whose hands had he fallen into?  Rick wouldn't have tied him
up, he had no reason.  Naked, spread-eagle, tied and prone added
up to one ugly word in his mind: rape.

If he listened, yes, he could hear the voices, a drone from
far away, sounding a little like his mother's sewing machine.
Probably calling Rick and arranging a ransom, or maybe just arguing
about who got first dibs on his non-virgin ass.

In fact, the more he thought about it, the more he remembered
a big guy at the zoo, holding him down, stopping him from screaming
while he dry-humped as if trying to fuck his way through
two layers of denim.  And the guy had felt big, too, as big as Rick,
easily.

He opened one eye, to see the headboard wavering in and out, covered
with sparkles.  OK, PCP, visual hallucination.  And some fools took this
stuff on purpose!  He slid back into the darkness, letting his body remove
the tranquilizer.

Rick stirred, his butt asleep from the chair and a crick in his neck.
He stood up and checked the kid.  AJ was still down for the count,
and that was good.  Let him sleep it off.  The kid was so hot like that
that Rick couldn't resist running a slow hand down his brother's back,
tracing shoulderblade, spine and buttock cleft until two fingers came
to rest just where Rick knew the tight, sweet asshole he coveted would be.

Very gently, he tapped at the pucker he could feel through the soft black cotton.
AJ stirred under his fingers and pressed back, before surging and squirming away.
Rick pursued him, and slid a single finger up the leghole to see if he could touch
it again.  Not like he hadn't screwed AJ awake before.

AJ came awake all at once.  It was exactly as bad as he had feared it would
be.  He did his best to get away, but he was still tied, and someone was still
touching him in ways he only allowed Rick to touch him.  He tried to protest,
but his voice wasn't working, and he only managed a croak.  The hand left him alone
and vanished.

"AJ, kid?  You Ok?"  Surely Rick's voice was just another hallucination,
but the cool glass of water wasn't.  Apparently his captors wanted him in
good condition.

The water left and the hands were back, stroking his back, his rear, his
legs.  He thrashed, trying to throw them off.  Now they were, oh God no, easing
his underwear down his legs.  He could feel the elastic getting tighter as
his spread legs stretched it.  Then there was a sudden snap and cool metal breezed
past his thigh.  A knife.  Shit!  He held perfectly still, hoping his captor was
a run-of-the-mill rapist and not a serial killer or sadist.

Rick couldn't hold out anymore.  AJ looked too good, but the briefs had to go.
He eased them down, but quickly realized that he'd never get them off the spread,
tied legs.  His pocket knife made short work of the underwear.

"I'll buy you a new pair," he promised.

AJ decided not to take his kidnapper up on that offer.  He didn't plan to be around that
long.  Where was Rick?  Why was this rescue taking so long?

Rick scooped the bottle from the bedside drawer and coated himself
 before running one slick finger down the tempting crevice to prod
the object of his desire.  AJ was as tense as he could be with
the dose of tranq he still had in him.  A little loosening would be ideal.
A second finger joined the first, and he knew there was no turning back.
Carefully positioning himself, Rick thrust in, making a tangible pop as the
first sphincter clutched him just under the head.  He waited, knowing
that a too-rapid entrance would only hurt his AJ.  When things loosened up, he
sheathed the full length of himself in the tight, pulsating depths of his brother.

AJ knew he was dying.  The intruder was huge, splitting him apart,
burning cold, tearing.  He suspected the icy cold and the flexible spines
were a tactile hallucination, but it still hurt .  He tried to scream and
only managed a weak moan.  His assailant took it for encouragement and
moved faster.

"You feel so good," a rough voice told him.  He wished on everything
he could think of that it was Rick's.  He moaned again.

Rick stepped up his pace again.  AJ was apparently enjoying this as
well, moaning encouragement every now and again, and testing the bonds
that held him.  They would definitely try this again, maybe with something
sexier than silk paisley ties...

AJ moaned again, this time trying for words.

"That's it, baby, come on back to me.  Come for me."

AJ tried again to open his eyes, and this time the headboard looked
normal.  But he had to still be hallucinating, because it looked like
his own.  His rapist's voice was also clearer, and there he knew he
was hallucinating because it sounded like Rick.  Maybe he'd finish
quickly and let AJ slip back into the darkness.

Rick plunged deeper and faster, wanting all of AJ, wanting to feel him
tight along the whole length of his cock. Shattering, earth shaking,
magnificent were words not ordinarily in Rick Simon's vocabulary, but
they described the orgasms his brother gave him perfectly.  He held
perfectly still, allowing the waves of climax to roll over and through him,
and out into AJ.  He leaned back, pulling out.  He'd almost thought the
sex was bringing AJ around, but he was wrong.

AJ felt the hard pulses and then the gaping vacancy when his attacker withdrew.
The kind darkness was there to swallow him in its lying, drugged arms
and he plunged into them without a second thought.

"Sleep well, kid.  I'll stay on watch until you come out of it."

Four hours later, AJ began stirring for real, and opened his eyes to see
Rick dozing in the chair beside the bed: his bed, his own room,
and his four best silk ties holding him spread eagle on his bed.
Morning sun streamed through the curtains and he had to pee.
He was stiff from being tied down.

"Rick," he said.  It came out a whisper.  "Rick!" he tried again.

His brother, still the Marine, jerked awake and reached for a non-existant
rifle before rememebering where he was.  "AJ!  You're awake.  How do you feel?"

"Rotten.  How many?"

"How many what?"

"How many raped me?  Did you kill them all?  Did they do it right here?"
He forced the words out, not wanting to ask, but needing to know.

"AJ, I tied you down to stop you having a seizure if I dozed.  You got hit
with a tranq dart at the zoo.  You've been crazy since
then.  Must have been hallucinating."

"Let me up?  I gotta go."

"Sure."  Rick addressed the knots in the ties.  He knew then that he'd never
tell his brother just how much advantage he'd taken while he was
semiconscious.

"Why am I naked?" came the query from the bedroom.  "All you needed
to take off was my coat and tie."

"Uh..."  Rick realized he didn't have a good answer, and hastily
picked up the shredded briefs before AJ could register them.  "Take a shower.
We need to get going."  Maybe, just maybe, if AJ was still fuzzy enough,
he wouldn't notice the dried stickiness on his body before the shower washed it
away.

Guilt gnawing at his gut, Rick put the ties away and started changing the sheets.
 

*end*