Are You Loathsome Tonight?

By Juli

June 2000

A challenge story


"But I don't see why I can't go. It's not like we'd be outside or doing anything dangerous..."

Derek Rayne fished his trench coat out of the hall closet and turned back to face his lover. That comment had sounded suspiciously like Nick was whining. Sure enough, the Security Chief was standing defiantly behind him, jaw set in his characteristically determined way, glaring at him.

"Now, Nick," the Precept placated. "Pneumonia is nothing to mess with. Rachel said you're not to leave the castle until the fever's been gone for two days. Weren't you running a temperature this afternoon?"

The young man broke eye contact, answering the question with body language. "I still think Rachel's overreacting..."

"I'll admit that in her time as a member of the Legacy, that Dr. Corrigan has overreacted a time or two," Derek said, draping the coat over a nearby chair and pulling the ex-SEAL into his arms. "But not this time. We nearly had to hospitalize you." He waiting until he felt the athletic body pressed up against him relax before he continued. "What's this really all about, Nick? I know these museum openings bore you to tears. Why are you so set on going to this one?"

The answer, when it came, was muffled as his companion nuzzled his face in the older man's chest. "Just wanted to be with you."

Derek sighed. He was one of the Legacy's premier psychics, yet he could be completely blind when it came to interpersonal relationships. Of *course* Nick wanted to be with him. The normally active young man must be going about stir crazy, what with all of the enforced bed rest brought on by his recent illness. To make matters worse, all of Derek's spare time had been taken up being a guest curator for San Francisco Museum's latest exhibit.

"I tell you what," he compromised, dropping a light kiss on top of Nick's bent head. "You stay here and take care of yourself tonight and I promise that if Rachel keeps you in bed all day tomorrow, I'll snuggle right in with you."

"Promise?"

"Cross my heart. Here," the Precept said, leaning forward, "I'll even seal it with a kiss."

The way that Nick eagerly leaned into the kiss confirmed that Derek had been right. The ex- SEAL was affection hungry. But, considering the fire building in his own loins, the older man reflected, so was he. Derek cupped his hands behind his lover's head, pulling Nick deeper into their embrace.

As he reflexively shifted to accommodate the smaller man's change in position, the Precept felt his foot trod on something soft. Pulling back quickly, he apologized. "Nick, I'm sorry! Did I step on your foot?"

The ex-SEAL chuckled. "Nah, I'm wearing my Rayne-proof footwear..." Lifting his leg, Nick proudly displayed his large, fluffy bunny slippers. "See?"

"I don't see why you insist on wearing those infernal things," Derek groused. The slippers always reminded him of his maiden aunt, Sofia, a sure libido killer. "Katherine's not even at the castle as much anymore, she won't notice if you don't use her gift."

"I like 'em." Nick asserted.

Derek grinned at his younger lover's attitude, but couldn't help but goad him. "They aren't the most... masculine... apparel, hardly worthy of your SEAL training."

"Are you kiddin?" Boyle grinned up at him, eyes twinkling at the mischievous interplay. He'd missed their bantering as much as Derek's physical presence. "Haven't you ever heard of the phrase 'boff like bunnies'?" The ex-SEAL wraggled his eyebrows lecherously. "Trust me, boss, rabbits are one of the most masculine critters around."

"Really...?"

Derek's retort was cut off by an impatient horn sounding outside the door. "Damn! We'll have to finish this later." He hastily grabbed his coat and reached down to steal a quick kiss. "I expect you to prove that boffing statement later on."

"You can count on it, babe."

The Precept was almost out the door before he turned for one last admonishment. "And Rachel said you were to get a lot of rest. Promise me - no watching television in the bedroom until the wee hours in the morning."

Nick blew his breath out in an explosive sigh. Rolling his eyes to the ceiling he capitulated. "All right, I promise. No television in the bedroom."

"Thanks, love," Derek said gratefully. He blew the younger man a quick kiss before heading out of the door.

"Besides," Nick said to the empty foyer. "The reception's better in the control room anyway..." Grinning despite having a chest that felt like it was full of soggy Kleenix, the Security Chief headed towards his intended viewing spot.

**********************************************

"I still don't think you're supposed to suck on his toes like that. See how they're doing it, bottom screen on the left? You should be working on one toe at a time, not sticking his whole foot down your throat. "

At first, Nick didn't think that the voice was referring to him. Groggily, he tried to make his way back to the fleecy darkness of sleep but, sure enough, a strange tickling sensation was originating in general direction of his feet.

"Stop that," he sleepily protested. "Wanna sleep. Promised Derek I'd rest."

The tickling sensation stopped, only to start up again immediately. Only, this time, it was twice as strong.

"I said to stop," the ex-SEAL repeated, opening his eyes and attempting to get up.

To his dismay, Nick found himself bound to one of the control rooms swivel chairs. The rope was soft and non-binding, but was colored the most disturbing shade of pink. "What the hell...?"

"Right on the first guess, Mr. Boyle," laughed a pleased voice off to his right. "Hell *is* responsible for your current predicament."

As Nick became more awake, he was better able to take stock of his surroundings. He was still in the control room, but instead of lounging in his sweats like he last remembered, he was stark naked and tied to his chair.

Well, not quite naked. One bunny slipper was still in place. The other was gone, giving a kneeling Winston Rayne complete access to his toes. Considering that his lover's father currently had his mouth full with Nick's foot, he couldn't have been the one taunting the ex- SEAL. Logic dictated that there had to be at least one more person in the room. Cautiously looking over his shoulder, the ex-SEAL searched for his remaining tormentor.

Immediately, he wished that he hadn't.

"Welcome to the party, Mr. Boyle," Reed Horton greeted him, his form flickering back and forth from his own tall, blonde appearance to that of Franklin Cross, the interim Precept that he'd impersonated during his last devious plot.

Nick's mouth went dry. Reed Horton and Winston Rayne. Both were ex-members of the House, but both had turned to the Dark Side. This was not good.

"Pardon me if I don't get up," he quipped, determined that the others not see him distressed.

"Oh, you're going to get *something* up," Reed purred, dipping his hand towards Nick's groin.

Winston popped Nick's big toe out of his mouth in order to join the conversation. "That's the plan. You're the most important thing in the world to Derek."

"You couldn't tell it lately," Nick muttered, thinking of how his lover had neglected him recently. And while he was sick too.

"Oh, but you are," Winston said earnestly. "So, we're going to seduce you, Reed and I. We're going to use your body to turn your soul to the Dark Side. That'll get to Derek like nothing else."

He moved to take Nick's toes into his mouth again, but the ex-SEAL quickly moved them out of reach.

"Na-uh, that's not the way to do it. Jeez, where'd you guys learn your seduction techniques, the wall in the men's bathroom?"

"You think we'd leave something like that to chance?" Reed sniffed distainfully. "We procured some instructional tapes."

The flickering form made a grand gesture towards the wall of video monitors, the same bank of television sets that Nick had been watching baseball on earlier. Instead of baseballs, though, now the multiple screen showed a different type of balls. Pornographic movies showed men together in all types of configuations, pleasuring each other in every possible way and even some that had yet to be invented.

"Ah, cripes!" Nick moaned in frustration as he got a good look at what was being played out onscreen. "No wonder you're goin' about it all wrong. Don't you know you're supposed to go for erotica, not this porno crap?"

"I beg to differ young man," Winston sat back, thoroughly annoyed at their victim's cheekiness. "The tapes have been most educational. I never knew that toe suckling was such a provocative act until I saw it on one of the movies..."

Nick snorted. "Winnie, ol' pal, you suckle with all the subtly of a Hoover vacuum. C'mon, untie me."

Reed and Winston Rayne looked at each other. This was not going as they had anticipated. In silence, both men transferred their gaze to the bound young man.

"Fer cryin' out loud," the ex-SEAL said. "You've already said you're gonna seduce me, I might as well enjoy it. Lord knows that Derek's left me high and dry lately..."

"Well," Horton finally said, "Derek *will* find it more traumatic if his little toy came to us willingly..." Fingers twitching, he reached to untie their prey.

"Don't be a fool, Reed," Winston said, slapping the other man's hands away. "He wants you to be complacent. He's trained as a Navy SEAL. Once you untie him, he'd snap you in two like a dry old twig. No, let's stick to the plan. We need to tease his body until its out of control, only then will he surrender to us to ease the blissful torment."

Damn!

Nick bit his tongue to keep from saying it out loud. There for a minute, he'd thought he'd actually be able to convince them to untie him and then, pardon the pun, there would have been hell to pay.

Winston Rayne went back to his toe sucking, while Reed bent his blonde head towards Nick's groin. The ex-SEAL thrashed his head from side to side, hoping that, despite the distractions, he'd be able to remember his military training long enough to extract himself from the rope.

His penis had just been engulfed in the velvet moistness of Horton's aristocratic mouth when Nick heard the characteristic hum that meant that someone was coming through the control room's holographic entrance. Hoping that Derek was back from the museum reception, he eagerly turned towards the glittering passage.

But instead of finding the beloved countenance of his lover, he found three surprised feminine faces. Alex. Rachel. Kristen.

"Ummm... sorry, Nick," Alex apologized, quickly backpedaling. "Didn't realize you were busy."

"Just don't exert yourself too hard, dear," Rachel said as the ladies turned to go. "Wouldn't want you to exasperate your pneumonia."

"Wait, don't leave me like this," Nick pleaded.

"Hmmph," was Kristen's only response, as she flounced out in a twirl of blonde hair.

Then they were gone, leaving him with the two hellspawn intent on thoroughly debauching him.

"Nick," Horton called, "keep your mind to the task at hand..."

Winston moved up from his position at Nick's feet and started shaking the ex-SEAL by the shoulders. "Nick, answer me...."

"Nick!"

**********************************************

"Nick!"

The security chief bolted upright in the chair, his swift movement stabilized by the warm grip of Derek Rayne's big hands on his shoulders. "Nick, are you all right?"

The young man blearily blinked, gazing furtively around the control room. The television sets were on, but showed the baseball game, not visions of men frantically coupling. He was clothed back in his sweats, both bunny slippers firmly on his feet. Best yet, Horton was gone and the only Rayne in the room was Derek, worriedly trying to get an answer from him.

Realizing that he'd yet to respond to his lover, Nick tilted his head up to look the man crouching before him. "Derek? Aren't you supposed to be at the party?"

The Precept sighed in relief as the ex-SEAL finally spoke. He'd been worried about delirium with the way young man had been twisting in his sleep, not to mention that Nick had been unusually hard to wake. "Aren't *you* supposed to be in bed, resting?" He countered, concern making his voice rough.

Nick bit his lip. Busted. "I promised not to watch television in the bedroom. Not that I wouldn't watch at all." He didn't trust himself to say anything else. Even if it had only been a dream, he'd almost been sucked down into the Dark Side. Toes and all.

Derek couldn't decide whether to laugh or cry. Trust Nick to find a way to obey and disobey at the same time. "All right," he said decisively. "I guess if I want you in a bed, I shall have to tuck you in myself."

The older man slipped his arm around Nick's waist, helping his lover to his feet. Nick snuggled into the embrace, allowing Derek to support him. He wasn't that sick, but the contact felt good. He knew that Derek's museum work was important, but he'd missed the other man of late...

"Hey, wait a minute." Nick said, realizing from the televisions that the game had only progressed an inning or two. "Why did you come back so early?"

Derek stopped, digging around in his coat pocket. "Because of this. What did you think I'd do when I found it?" Smiling, he handed his inquisitive lover a folder piece of parchment.

Nick took the paper carefully from the older man's fingers and, opening it, began to read it aloud. "My love, my ache for you is so deep, that it feeds on my soul..."

Incredulous, the ex-SEAL stopped. "Derek, where did you get this?"

The Precept frowned. "In my coat pocket, where you left it."

"Derek," Nick said. "I didn't write this."

"Don't tease," his lover chastised him. "Who else would have left such a thing in my pocket for me to find?"

"I didn't write it," the ex-SEAL firmly repeated.

"All right, if you insist," Derek capitulated, not liking the glazed look in the younger man's eyes. They'd have to discuss it in the morning, when his love was feeling better. What had he been thinking, leaving Nick alone when he obviously didn't feel well? It was a good thing his romantic mate had left him a love letter in his coat, to remind him of what was important.

But as they made their careful way from the room, neither man noticed the fragment of pink rope that dangled from Nick's chair.

~the end~


Blaze Deverox's challenge to the Poltergeist slash list required the following elements:

Any three members of the house, get caught having a threesome by the others. It can be M/M/M, M/M/F, M/F/F, F/F/F .

Must have a love letter written by some unknown person, a pare of fuzzy house shoes, rope, a porn video, and trying out some thing they see on the video.

 

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