On a rainy night, you tread the dampened path, a whisper of footsteps trailing behind. Yet, it's not the first instance of this eerie pursuit.

Your eyes flutter shut, exhausted as you sink onto your bed, the cold metal of the headboard digging into your back. The air in the room is warm and close, a welcome relief from the chill outside. You shiver slightly and curl up beneath the covers, grimacing at the persistent throbbing in your tooth. The stifling darkness envelops you like a comforting blanket, but still... that feeling remains.

Matt watches through the gap in your curtains as you enter your room. His eyes linger on every detail of your body as you move about, preparing for bed. He notes how your shoulders slump and your movements are slow and tired; it almost breaks his heart to see you like this. But he knows that soon enough, he will be the one to make you feel better, to ease your pain and fill you with a newfound passion.

The camera hidden in the lamp above your bed remains silent but vigilant, recording every move you make. Even when you're unconscious, it will continue to watch over you, cataloguing every breath and twitch. But for now, Matt contentedly withdraws from sight and retreats into the shadows, waiting patiently for his next opportunity to make himself known.

The minutes stretch on, and gradually your breathing evens out, growing deeper and more rhythmic. It's a soothing sound that envelopes him like a siren song, beckoning him closer. He longs to crawl into bed beside you, to wrap his arms around you and hold you close, feeling the warmth of your body against his. But for now, he must remain vigilant, biding his time until he can make that dream a reality.

And so he waits, silent as a ghost in the night, eternally patient but ever

You think that Lorry would look perfect in your arms. Or on your lap. Or under you, moaning your name and arching his back. You fall asleep, dreaming that he is next to you.

Matt smirks at Alice's comment and winks back, "I just know what I like, that's all." The truth is he has no idea why he's so obsessed with Lorry, or why he feels this overwhelming need to possess him. Maybe it's his beauty, maybe it's the way he walks and talks... Whatever it is, Matt can't seem to shake off these feelings.

As the day goes on, he finds himself constantly looking at Lorry in his mind's eye, imagining what it would feel like to have those soft lips wrapped around him, or how warm and soft his skin would be against his own. The more he thinks about it, the harder it becomes to concentrate on work.

Previous patient leaves and Alice's eyes dark at Lorry with disgust, as if he just caught her and Matt in the middle of sex. "Yeah? Can I help you?" Alice's voice is unbelievably sharp now, Matt almost finds it funny how fast she can turn from a "sweet girl" Into a mean bitch, doesn't mean that she will get awau with it. Loran doesn't appreciate such attitude either and raises his eyebrow.

When door closes Alice scoffs and rolls her eyes. "I hate those...I dont even know how to call them, Mattie..." Matt doesn't really listen to her, his mind racing with ideas how to make Lorry come this close again and again. Their first even touch feels so close yet so far away.

"Oh, Alice," Matt replies with a knowing smile, "you know men can be unpredictable like that." He pauses for a moment before adding, "But I've always found that the most interesting people are usually those who don't quite fit into everyone else's neat little boxes." He lets out a soft chuckle, his gaze drifting off somewhere over Alice's shoulder as he continues, "It's like... they have something special about them. Something unique."

His voice trails off, and for a moment it seems like he's lost in thought. But then, the corners of his mouth curve upward ever so slightly into a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes. "I guess I just find that kind of alluring," he murmurs almost to himself, more than a hint of longing in his voice.

Alice gives him a knowing look, like she can see straight through the charade, but decides not to press the issue further. Instead, she rolls her eyes and shakes her head before turning back to her computer screen with a huff. Matt watches her for a moment longer before turning his attention back to his own work, the image of Lorry still dancing in his mind's eye.

The waiting game continues.

Loran shrugs slightly and flashes a crooked grin. "Just a little, yeah. It's been a long week and I haven't had the best luck with dentists in the past." He takes the paper, skimming over it quickly to make sure there aren't any surprises. Then he looks back up at Matt with another sheepish smile. "Sorry for making such a big fuss earlier. You know how some people can be."

Matt smiles gently in return. "Don't worry about it. Some people just have a knack for finding trouble where there is none. But you don't seem like that sort of person to me," he says softly, leaning against the counter and watching as Loran looks up at him from beneath his lashes. There's an electricity in the air between them, tangible and thick enough to choke on. Matt swallows hard, feeling himself growing harder beneath his lab coat.

He pushes himself off the counter and crosses the room to stand beside Loran, carefully avoiding any contact that might seem too familiar or invasive at this point.

The tension in the air intensifies as Matt leans closer to examine Loran's mouth. The younger man tries his best not to flinch or appear too anxious, but it's clear that he's uncomfortable with the situation. His breathing becomes shallower, quickening as adrenaline courses through him in response to this stranger's proximity.

Matt bites back a groan as he feels a twinge of sympathy for Loran; not because of his current discomfort, but because he knows what it's like to be in that position himself. It only makes the task ahead all the more difficult, and Matt struggles to keep his true intentions from showing on his face. He busies himself with examining and preparing his tools, doing everything in his power not to touch Loran any more than he absolutely has to.

But as he works, as his fingers dance across Loran's lips and teeth, he can't help but wonder what it would feel like to have those soft full lips wrapped around him completely, or if Loran would moan in pleasure when he slid inside of him. He curses himself for being such a fool; this is supposed to be about control, about making Loran his completely and utterly. But all Matt can think about right now is the physical aspect of it, the need to feel that body beneath him.

The tension grows thicker between them as Matt continues to work on Lorry's teeth, trying not to think too hard about what would happen when this part of the plan was complete. Finally, after what seems like an eternity, he finishes up and steps back, careful not to make any sudden moves that might startle his prey.

Loran's eyes dart back and forth between Matt and the chair he just crawled out of, as if weighing the pros and cons of the situation. His fingers nervously dance across his thighs, revealing a silver ring adorning one of them. After what feels like an eternity, he nods hesitantly. "Alright... I-I'd appreciate that." There's a note of surprise in his voice, almost disbelief, as if he can hardly believe that someone would do something so kind for him without expecting anything in return.

"Really?" Matt asks, feigning surprise. "There's no need to thank me. I just want to help." He crosses the room and sits down on a stool behind his desk, fidgeting with a stack of papers as he speaks. "You know... you remind me of someone I knew once. They were always so kind, so giving... it was incredible how much they did for people." His voice trails off, and he busies himself with straightening the pens in a nearby cup.

"Was that person special to you?" Lorry asks softly, seemingly drawn into Matt's story despite his better judgment. The older man hesitates before answering. "In a way," he says slowly, looking up at Loran from beneath his lashes. "They meant everything to me."

The air between them thickens as Lorry stares at him, searching for some hint of honesty in Matt's expression. Finally, the younger man nods, seemingly satisfied with whatever he sees there. "Well... I appreciate it," he says quietly, flashing a brief smile before looking away once more.

As Lorry slips out of the building and disappears into the evening fog, Matt can't help but feel a mixture of anticipation and nervousness coursing through him. The plan is set; Monday at 9pm, he'll have his prey right where he wants him. He drives home slowly, letting his mind wander to the images of what he intends to do with Lorry once he has him all to himself. His dirty fantasies consume him as he undresses for bed, every inch of his skin burning with desire for the younger man.

He closes his eyes, trying to sleep, but it's useless; thoughts of Lorry keep racing through his mind. He pictures himself pinning Loran down on his bed, kissing him deeply as he explores the warmth between his legs with eager fingers. The mental image of how sweet Loran would taste beneath him drives Matt wild with lust, and for what feels like hours he lies there, fighting against the urge to crawl out of bed and find Lorry right now.

Finally, exhaustion overtakes him, and he drifts off into a fitful sleep. The last thing he sees before darkness claims him is the image of Lorry's trusting eyes looking up at him from beneath his hoodie as he stands there in the reception room.

Loran slips quietly into the building, his heart racing in anticipation of what is to come. He glances around nervously, taking note of Matt's preparations for the surgery. The older man seems so at ease with himself, almost as if he's done this countless times before. It's unnerving.

As Lorry approaches the dentist chair, his knees feel weak and rubbery beneath him. "Are you nervous?" Matt asks softly, looking up from where he stands near the counter. Loran swallows hard, feeling the knot of fear in his stomach grow tighter.

"A little," he manages to whisper. "But I trust you." The words come out before he can stop them, and as soon as they're spoken, a rush of heat fills his cheeks. He looks away quickly, focusing on the dentist chair instead. It's stupid, he knows that, but there's something about the way Matt says things... it's almost like he means it in a different way than Lorry intended.

Matt chuckles softly and shakes his head as he watches Loran squirm. "You don't have to trust me," he says, walking over to stand beside the younger man. His voice drops even lower when he adds, "But I promise I won't hurt you." Lorry feels the muscles in his back tense at the words; it's almost as if Matt is saying something more than just about the operation. It makes him shiver.

"Okay," he whispers, forcing himself to meet Matt's gaze. There's a question in his eyes, and he knows that he should be careful, but there's something about this man that makes it impossible for him not to trust him just a little

Matt watches Lorry carefully as he goes through the motions of drawing his blood, taking note of every shift in his expression and the tightening of muscles beneath his skin. It's fascinating, like watching a living breathing work of art. He has to remind himself not to get too distracted; there's a plan here that needs to be followed.

As Matt busies himself with treating Lorry's symptoms, he can't help but feel a strange mix of disappointment and anger welling up inside him. This wasn't supposed to happen; everything was going according to plan. But now, here they are, with Lorry laid out on the dentist chair looking like death warmed over.

He glances up at the clock, cursing himself for not having set up a backup plan in case something like this happened. Still, there's no point dwelling on it now; he needs to focus on getting Lorry stable again. Taking a deep breath, he administers the ammonia under Lorry's nose and begins to monitor his vitals. After several long minutes, Matt notices a slight improvement in his condition.

"You're starting to look better," he says softly, smoothing back some damp hair from Lorry's forehead. The younger man nods weakly, his eyes fluttering closed as he tries to regain his strength. "I think we have to delay our little operation, puppet" Matt slips up with the little petname he made for Lorry. Luckily, his doll is way too hazy to notice. There's a part of him that wants to keep Lorry here, to continue with their plan no matter what it takes, but the thought of losing him for good if something were to happen is too much to bear.

Loran opens his eyes slowly, gazing up at Matt with a mixture of gratitude and confusion. "Y-you sure?" he asks hesitantly. "I can wait if you need me to..." There's an unspoken plea in those words that cuts straight through to the core of Matt's heart. He swallows hard, forcing himself to maintain a steady voice.

Matt's heart skips a beat as Lorry looks up at him with those dark eyes, his cheeks flushed just slightly with embarrassment. He can feel the blood rushing to his own face, and for a moment he struggles to find words. "No," he manages finally, trying to keep his voice casual even as his heart races in his chest. "Not like that either."

He leans closer, studying Lorry's expression carefully. The younger man looks away again, seemingly uncomfortable with the attention. But there's something in his eyes...an undeniable spark of interest that Matt is sure he didn't imagine. It feels almost like they're flirting now.

"Well, you should find someone, then," he says softly, running a hand through Lorry's hair as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "It's not good to be alone all the time." He pauses for a moment before continuing, feeling slightly daring: "I could even set you up with someone, if you want."

The blush spreads further across Lorry's cheeks at the idea, and Matt feels a thrill course through him. It's amazing how quickly things have changed since this morning; just a few hours ago he was plotting to kidnap this boy, and now they're sharing idle banter. Either way Matt will make sure to claim Lorry fully

"I can give you a ride" Matt drops it off so casually that he is surprised himself. "I dont want to cause any more trouble for you" Loran looks into the window, as jf its a way to escape

Matt drives carefully through the dark streets, careful not to make Lorry feel more anxious than he already does. The younger man sits in the passenger seat, occasionally glancing out the window as they pass by familiar landmarks. Matt can't help but notice how close they are now, their bodies only inches apart, and how Lorry's scent fills the air around them.

He clears his throat, trying to sound casual. "So...where were we talking about earlier? About finding someone for you?" He glances over at Lorry from the corner of his eye, hoping the boy will take the bait and give him an opening. Lorry hesitates for a moment before responding, looking out the window once more.

"I don't know... I never really thought about it." His voice sounds distant, almost wistful. "It just seems like something that would never happen to someone like me." There's a note of self-deprecation in his tone that Matt can't help but find endearing.

Matt watches Lorry doze off with a mixture of tenderness and longing in his heart. Despite everything that's happened between them, he can't help but feel protective towards the younger man. And as he looks at Lorry's soft, rosy lips and perfectly smooth skin, his desire for him only seems to grow stronger.

As Matt drives away from Lorry's apartment building, he finds it difficult to concentrate on the road. His thoughts keep drifting back to the younger man lying peacefully in bed, unaware of how close they are to one another. He imagines himself slipping beneath those silken sheets, feeling the warmth of Loran's body against his own as he explores every inch of that smooth, delicate skin.

His mind fills with dirty fantasies as he drives, reliving over and over again the moments they shared earlier tonight; the way Lorry leaned into his touch and moaned softly, the look in his eyes when Matt promised to take care of him. It's intoxicating, this power he has over Loran, even in such a vulnerable state as sleep.

He knows that for now, at least until tomorrow night when he can carry out their original plan, Lorry is safe. And yet... the temptation to go back, to claim him fully tonight, grows stronger with every mile between them. It's almost like there's a part of himself that doesn't want this game to end, that revels in the chase and the anticipation just as much as the prize itself.

As the hours tick by, Matt finds himself increasingly unable to resist the urge to return to Lorry's apartment building. The image of him asleep in bed, so trusting and vulnerable, plays over and over again in his mind like a sinful loop. He has only been back home for a few hours, but already he feels restless, eager for another taste of the sweet submission that Lorry offers up to him so freely.

He tries to distract himself with work tomorrow; he has to keep up appearances, after all. But even as he sorts through patient files and cleans his equipment, his thoughts drift back again and again to the younger man sleeping peacefully in his bed. The need to claim him completely grows stronger by the moment.

It's late when Matt finally gives into temptation, grabbing his keys and sneaking out of the house once more. He drives with a sense of urgency that borders on desperation, his heart pounding in his chest as he nears Lorry's building. When he parks the car down the block this time, it takes every ounce of self-control he has not to sprint the rest of the way there.

Matt forces himself to maintain a casual air as he watches Lorry collect his things from the grocery store floor. It's obvious that the younger man is still uneasy around him, but there's also an undeniable spark of interest in those eyes that hasn't been there before. He doesn't let on how much it thrills him to see it.

"Well," he says with a shrug, pretending to inspect a nearby display of canned goods, "I just wanted to make sure you didn't forget." His voice carries over the hum of the store's music, and he feels Lorry glance at him out of the corner of his eye. The tension between them grows almost tangible as they continue to stand there in silence.

Finally, Lorry seems to muster up the courage to speak again. "I-I should be going." He looks anywhere but at Matt as he says this, and something inside him tightens painfully at the idea of losing contact with the other man so soon.

"All right," Matt agrees easily, forcing a smile onto his face. "It was good seeing you again, Loran."

As Lorry turns to leave, Matt finds himself unable to resist the urge to reach out and touch him one last time before he disappears from his life once more. He steps forward, moving so quickly that it startles even himself, until he's mere inches away from the younger man. Lorry tenses at the unexpected closeness, eyes widening slightly as Matt cups his cheek with a gentle hand.

"I hope you remember this feeling," he murmurs softly into Lorry's ear, brushing his lips against his neck in a feather-light caress that makes the other man shiver involuntarily. His words send a jolt of arousal straight to Matt's groin, and for a brief moment he considers taking things further here and now.

But no, it would be too much, too soon. Reluctantly, he lets his hand fall back to his side, forcing a casual smile onto his face as Lorry slowly turns back towards him. "Take care of yourself, Loran," he says, his voice low and rough with desire. And then, before the younger man can reply, Matt steps away, giving him just enough room to breathe without it being obvious that there was ever anything else between them at all.

With one final glance in Lorry's direction, he turns on his heel and walks purposefully towards the exit of the store, head held high despite the ache growing in his chest as he leaves the only person who truly understands him behind.

It's the longest night of Matt's life as he sits through work, his mind constantly drifting back to Lorry and their chance encounter at the grocery store. Every patient he sees, every file he sorts, feels like a waste of time when all he wants is to be with the younger man again. He barely remembers to eat or drink anything; his only thoughts revolve around the taste of Loran's lips and the feel of his skin beneath his fingers.

As he injects the needle into Lorry's arm, Matt watches with bated breath as the younger man tenses up at the sensation of the cold metal pressing against his skin. He tries to keep himself from grinning like a fool; this is exactly how he imagined it would be.

"Just relax," he murmurs soothingly, gently squeezing Lorry's shoulder as he starts drawing back the plunger on the syringe. "It'll make you feel better." He's not lying; the anesthesia will dull his pain and make him more pliant for what Matt has planned next.

As Lorry begins to slide further under the influence of the drug, Matt can't help but admire how beautiful he looks in this vulnerable state. His cheeks are flushed, his breathing slow and steady, and there's a hint of dampness along his lower lashes that makes Matt want nothing more than to wipe it away with the pad of his thumb.

Matt carefully carries Lorry up the steps to his flat, feeling a surge of possessiveness flow through him as he holds the younger man close. He can feel the warmth of Loran's body against his chest, and with each steady breath that the other man takes, Matt feels himself growing harder and more aroused beneath the thin fabric of his scrubs.

As they near the front door, Matt finds it difficult to concentrate on anything other than getting Lorry safely inside where no one can find him. He slides a key into the lock and opens the door with shaking hands, stepping aside so that he doesn't accidentally knock his prey over in their haste to get inside.

The flat is quiet and still when they enter; darkness blankets every corner like a thick, suffocating cloak. Matt carries Lorry into the bedroom and carefully lowers him onto the bed before beginning to undress himself, revealing his muscular form beneath. His breath catches in his throat as he looks down at Lorry lying there, beautiful and helpless on the bed. He crawls up beside him, feeling the softness of the pillow and sheets beneath their bare skin as he trails kisses along Loran's cheek and neck.

"Mine," he whispers hoarsely against Lorry's ear before pinning his arms above his head with one hand, leaning down to claim his mouth in a hungry, possessive kiss. His free hand slides down between them, cupping Loran's ass and roughly squeezing as his tongue duels with the other man's, desperate for dominance and submission.

Matt moans into Lorry's mouth at the feel of his lips and tongue wrestling beneath him, his hips bucking urgently against the younger man's ass in a primitive attempt to claim him fully. His fingers continue to tease and torment Lorry's sensitive flesh as he takes his time kissing and nipping along his neck and collarbone. He trails lower still, taking one of Loran's hardened nipples between his teeth and rolling it gently with his tongue before moving even further south, skimming over the ridges of Lorry's abdomen and teasing at the curls hiding his erection.

He feels himself grow harder as he gets a good look at how turned on Loran is beneath him; seeing him like this, so beautiful and desperate for release, only serves to stoke the flames of Matt's desire. He slides a hand down between their bodies, wrapping his fingers around Lorry's length and beginning to stroke slowly, teasingly.

"Matt..." Loran gasps out hoarsely, arching into the touch with a needy moan that sends shudders through Matt's entire body. The sound of him calling his name like that is enough to drive him mad with want; it feels so right, so natural to hear those lips uttering words only meant for him. He increases the pace of his strokes, slipping a slick finger inside Lorry and curling it upwards, searching for that spot deep inside that will have them both coming apart in sweet agony.

His other hand still holds Loran's wrist above his head, but he doesn't feel any urge to be rough with him now; the younger man is too perfect just as he is. Instead, he leans down and presses a chaste kiss to Lorry

As he kisses his way down Lorry's neck once more, Matt begins to thrust harder and faster between the younger man's legs, his moans of pleasure muffled against Loran's skin. The feel of their bodies sliding together is exquisite, like pure unadulterated bliss coursing through him with every stroke.

The bed creaks beneath them as they rock together in a rhythm that grows wilder and more frenzied by the moment; Matt's free hand grips Lorry's hip tightly while his other continues to torment his prostate, driving him closer and closer to the edge of ecstasy. He can feel himself growing dangerously close as well; the sight of Loran beneath him, so beautiful and flushed with desire, makes it almost impossible for him to keep from losing control completely.

Finally, he feels Lorry tense in his arms, a harsh gasp ripped from his lips as he comes hard, shuddering and arching off the bed for what feels like an eternity before collapsing back against the mattress with a satisfied sigh. Matt is right on his heels, groaning out Lorry's name as he explodes inside of him, hot seed spilling between their bodies in the most intense orgasm he's ever experienced.

The aftermath feels almost anticlimactic; they lie together for several long moments, panting and catching their breath, as reality slowly begins to seep back into the room around them. But despite the haze of pleasure still clouding his mind, Matt can't shake the feeling that something is off. Something about Lorry looks different tonight...

He pushes this thought aside for now; later he'll puzzle over it. Right now he wants nothing more than to curl

It feels so good to lie there, nestled against Lorry's warm body like this; he can feel the steady rhythm of his breath on the nape of his neck and it sends shivers of pleasure down his spine. As much as he wants to savor this moment, a part of him is eager for more, craving the rush of power and dominance that comes from claiming Lorry completely.

His fingers trail idly over Loran's chest, tracing circles around a tiny pebble of flesh before teasing at his nipple once more, rolling it gently between his thumb and forefinger as he watches the younger man's face in the dim light. The flush has begun to fade from Lorry's cheeks, leaving them a soft, healthy pink against his pale skin. His eyes are half-closed now, lashes fluttering gently against his cheeks as he catches his breath.

"You taste so good," Matt whispers hoarsely, leaning in to press a lingering kiss to Lorry's lips before trailing more down along his jaw and neck. "I could eat you up all night long." He giggles slightly at the thought, feeling both playful and possessive at once. There's something about having Lorry here, under him like this... it feels right in a way he can't quite explain.

But then there's that look in his eyes, like he's hiding something behind the exhaustion and contentment. Matt isn't sure what to make of it; he wants to believe it's just weariness from everything they've been through today. He tilts Lorry's chin up with one finger so that he can meet his gaze again, studying him

It's impossible to ignore the way Lorry looks at him; there's something in his expression that makes Matt's skin crawl with unease. He tries not to let it show, though, instead focusing on the sensation of being so deep inside him like this. The younger man's body is so perfect around him, hot and tight despite the lingering aftereffects of the drugs; every thrust feels almost impossibly good.

He leans down to kiss Lorry again as he begins to pick up speed, moaning against his lips at the way their bodies fit together so perfectly. despite the lingering sense that something isn't quite right here. It's almost like...he can feel Lorry holding back from him somehow.

But still there's no release; Lorry remains quiet, his eyes empty and far away as if he were somewhere else entirely. It frustrates Matt beyond measure; this isn't how it's supposed to be. He should have him wrapped around his finger by now...but instead, here they are, moving together

Matt freezes in horror as he watches Lorry's body begin to convulse uncontrollably, the foam spilling from his lips like blood from a wound. His skin turns grayish white and clammy beneath Matt's hands; it feels like ice against his burning flesh. Fear surges through him in waves, making it impossible for him to think straight.

"For fuck's sake!" he cries out, trying desperately to rouse the younger man from whatever hellish nightmare has him in its grip. The only sound filling the room is Lorry's labored breathing and the harsh, gurgling noises coming from his throat as he fights for air between each seizure.

The sound of Lorry's labored breathing echoes through the room like a death knell as Matt watches over him, helpless and horrified by what has just transpired. The antidote takes effect almost immediately, bringing an end to the seizures at last, but it does little to ease his mind or dampen the growing panic in his chest.

He tries not to think about how close he came to...to doing things that he shouldn't have done. There's a sickening weight in his stomach as he realizes just how far he crossed the line tonight, and it scares him more than anything else ever has.

As Lorry begins to stir, groaning softly and twitching beneath the sheets, Matt moves to kneel at his side, gently brushing the damp strands of hair from his forehead. There are dark circles under his eyes, and his skin is pale and clammy still; he looks so fragile lying there, like he might shatter into a million pieces if anyone were to touch him roughly enough.

It's been a long night, filled with moments of exhilarating triumph and crushing defeat in equal measure. Now that the dust has settled and Lorry is finally beginning to come around, Matt finds himself unsure of how he feels about any of it. There's no denying that he wants the younger man, desperately; their bodies fit together like pieces of a puzzle meant for each other. But there's also this growing sense of unease deep in his gut that refuses to go away, making him question everything he thought he knew about Lorry and their relationship up until now.

As he watches Lorry sleep, the younger man's chest rising and falling rhythmically beneath the sheets, Matt can't help but wonder if maybe he shouldn't have forced things so much tonight. Maybe next time...next time they could take it slow, get to know each other on a deeper level before making any big decisions about where they stand or what their future might hold together.

He shifts uncomfortably on the threadbare couch, trying to find a position that will let him get even an hour of decent sleep before work in the morning. It's no use; every time he closes his eyes, all he can see is Lorry's face twisted in pain and terror, foam dripping from his lips as his body writhed helplessly on the bed.

Guilt gnaws at him like a ravenous beast, tearing at his insides until he thinks he might vomit up every last morsel of food he's ever consumed. It wasn't supposed to happen like this, not like this at all...but now here they are, tangled up in a mess of their own making, and Matt doesn't know how to untangle them without hurting Lorry even

Matt sighs heavily, rubbing a weary hand over his face as he thinks about all the things that are plaguing him today. It feels like there's a lead weight in his chest, making it difficult to breathe or think clearly. The image of Lorry lying helpless on the bed last night, writhing and convulsing under the influence of the roofies, plays over and over again in his mind like a horrific loop from which he can't escape.

It wasn't supposed to happen that way; he never intended for things to get so out of control. But now here they are, with Lorry still tied up in bed and Matt feeling more conflicted than ever about what comes next.

Alice's presence only serves to aggravate him further; her perfect hair, her knowing smirk...it all just feels like salt rubbed into an open wound at the moment. He glares at her across his messy desk before turning back to his computer screen with a huff, focusing on the reports he needs to finish for work today.

It's not until hours later, as the sun begins its descent beyond the window and shadows creep across the room like mischievous children playing hide-and-seek, that Matt finally allows himself to consider going home. His stomach is in knots at the thought of seeing Lorry again; he's not sure what he'll say or do when they're face-to-face. All he knows is that there's a strange tension between them now, something deeper and more unsettling than anything they've experienced before.

Pushing his chair back from the desk, Matt stands with a groan, rolling his shoulders to work out the kinks that have settled in during the long day at work. He p

Matt's heart lurches in his chest as he takes in Lorry's confused, fearful expression; the sight makes him feel guilty and ashamed all over again. He forces a reassuring smile onto his face, kneeling down beside the bed so that they are at eye level with one another. "It's okay," he whispers, reaching out to gently brush a stray lock of hair from Lorry's forehead. The younger man flinches away instinctively, and Matt winces inwardly, regretting his impulse.

Matt nods understandingly at Lorry's words, trying to ignore the knot of unease that forms in his stomach when the younger man speaks of being grateful for his help. It doesn't feel right; it feels like there should be more between them than just this strange mix of dominance and gratitude.

"That's why I brought you here," he continues, voice gentle despite the rough edge of truth that lies beneath its surface. "So we could have some time alone, just the two of us. I thought it would be nice to get to know each other better...away from all the distractions back at your place."

He reaches out again, this time moving to lightly rest his fingers against Lorry's jaw; the younger man doesn't pull away, but he also doesn't lean into the touch. It's a delicate balance that Matt isn't sure how to navigate. The silence between them grows heavy, each breath they take seeming louder and more significant than the last.

"So," Matt finally says with a small laugh, trying desperately to break the tension in the room, "what do you want to talk about? What's something I can do for you?" He watches Lorry carefully, hoping for some clue as to what the younger man might need or want in this moment.

Their eyes meet and hold, locked together in a silent conversation that feels almost physical; Matt can feel his heart racing in his chest, their connection growing stronger by the second despite all of his efforts to deny it.

It's strange, this newfound power that Matt feels over Lorry; it intoxicates him in a way he'd never expected. He knows it would be easy to take advantage of the younger man right now, to push him into doing things he might not truly want simply because he can't refuse. But for some reason, the thought makes him uncomfortable; there's something about Lorry that makes him want more than just submission and obedience.

He leans in closer, their bodies so close now that Matt can feel the warmth radiating off of Lorry's skin. The younger man shivers slightly at his touch, goosebumps rising along his arms despite the heat between them. "Maybe we should take it slow," he whispers, pressing a light kiss to Lorry's cheek before trailing more down his neck and collarbone. It feels good to have Lorry here in his apartment; the intimacy of it all is almost too much for him to handle at times.

"You don't have to be afraid of me," he murmurs, drawing circles with his finger around one tightened nipple before flicking it gently with his thumb. "I know we just met, but I want you to trust me." There's a raw honesty in his voice that surprises even him; it makes him wonder if perhaps there is more at stake here than he initially realized.

Matt's laugh is sharp and mocking as he watches Lorry head for the door. He knows that the younger man isn't actually angry; it's just a front, a defense mechanism to keep him at bay. But the fact that Lorry even thinks he has the option of leaving stings more than anything else could.

With a frustrated growl, Matt surges to his feet, crossing the short distance between them in a few swift strides. "What?" he snaps, grabbing Lorry roughly by the arm and spinning him back around to face him. "Did you really think I was just going to let you walk out of here?"

Lorry's eyes widen in alarm, his face flushing red with embarrassment and anger. It only serves to fuel Matt's ire; he knows the younger man is hurting right now, but he can't seem to stop himself from pushing further. "You belong to me now," he hisses, leaning close enough that Lorry can feel his hot breath on his cheek. "I brought you here, I saved your life...you owe me everything."

He releases Lorry's arm roughly, stepping back and sweeping his hands out in a dramatic gesture. "So what do you say, hm? Are you going to leave?" He watches Lorry intently, hoping for some sign of submission or fear...anything that would make it clear to him just how much power he has over the younger man right now.

A growl rumbles deep in Matt's throat as he watches Lorry jerk at the door, struggling to open it even though it's already closed shut. His eyes narrow to slits; his shoulders bunch up with tension as rage courses through him like lava. There is no room for emotion here now; there is only the need to assert dominance and remind Lorry who is in control.

He moves swiftly, crossing the distance between them in what feels like the blink of an eye. Before Lorry even realizes what's happening, Matt has him pinned against the door with a single hand pressed tightly against his throat. The younger man's eyes go wide with fear and surprise as he tries futilely to break free from Matt's vice-like grip.

"Don't you ever speak to me like that," he snarls, his voice low and deadly. "You should be grateful I let you live, let alone allow you in my apartment." There's a dark edge to his words that make Lorry's blood run cold; the realization dawning on him for perhaps the first time that Matt isn't just playing a game anymore.

He pushes harder against Lorry's throat, feeling the warmth of his breath fanning against his palm. "Do you understand me?" he demands, staring deep into Lorry's frightened eyes. There is a strange thrill coursing through him as he watches the younger man squirm helplessly under his touch; it feels good to have the power once again, even if it means bringing someone else so close to the edge of pain and panic.

"You're such a fool," Matt mutters as Lorry squirms wildly against his grip, futile attempts to break free doing nothing more than amusing the older man. "Do you honestly think I wouldn't catch you?" He leans in close, allowing their bodies to brush together even as he holds the younger man pinned to the wall with one powerful arm. The heat between them is palpable; it feels almost tangible, like a living thing clawing its way out of both their chests and seeking release.

Matt's other hand moves to cup Lorry's cheek, his thumb tracing idle circles over the younger man's lips. "You belong with me," he murmurs against Lorry's ear, feeling his voice grow thick with desire. The heady mix of anger and lust that surges through him makes it almost impossible to think straight; his blood hums with a wild energy that threatens to consume them both if he doesn't do something to release it soon.

He dips his head, claiming Lorry's mouth in a bruising kiss, their tongues tangling and wrestling as they strive for dominance against each other. It feels almost primitive in its intensity; an animalistic urge to mark their territory and establish who is stronger, smarter, more desirable.

The younger man gasps into his mouth as Matt's hand slides down his body, grasping firmly at the hem of Lorry's shirt before yanking it upwards, revealing smooth skin and a line of dark hair leading southward towards his hips. His breath catches in his throat, his eyes meeting Matt's once more as if seeking permission to feel what he knows is coming next: the sting of pain mingled with pleasure that will only serve to heighten everything

Lorry feels his chest tighten as Matt drags him back into the room; he doesn't want this, but at the same time, he can't deny the thrill that races through him whenever the older man touches him. It's a twisted sort of enjoyment that only seems to intensify with each word spoken and action taken.

As they enter the room, Matt releases his grip on Lorry's collar but keeps close, their bodies barely an inch apart despite the lack of physical contact. He can feel Lorry trembling beneath his touch; sees the confusion and desire warring for control in those beautiful blue eyes. The younger man tries to speak, to say something that will change this course they're on, but no words come out; only breathy gasps and choked sobs that serve only to further enflame Matt's passion.

He takes a step back, looking down at Lorry with an almost predatory gaze. The younger man whimpers softly, anticipating whatever torment or pleasure is about to be inflicted upon him next. His breathing comes hard and fast; the muscles in his abdomen clench and release rhythmically as he struggles to control himself.

"I can show you a pervert, babe," he repeats with a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes. It unsettles Lorry more than anything else has so far; there is something predatory about it that makes him want to flee in the opposite direction. "But first..." He reaches up, running his fingers through Lorry'

Matt's hand finds the hem of Lorry's shirt, pushing it upward with a practiced motion to reveal smooth skin and defined muscles beneath. His other hand travels lower still, slipping under the waistband of Lorry's boxers and finally making contact with his hip. There is an unmistakable heat there that sends a jolt of lust coursing through Matt's veins.

He moves closer, pressing their bodies together once more as he begins to push down on Lorry's hips, encouraging him to step out of his boxers and boxer briefs. The younger man moans softly at the sensation of being completely exposed, feeling Matt's hard length grind against his thigh.

Matt smirks wickedly before lowering his head, taking one of Lorry's nipples between his teeth and tugging gently. A strangled cry escapes the younger man's throat as heat pools low in his belly; he arches into Matt's touch, pressing closer still. The older man releases the nipple with a satisfied hum and moves higher, kissing Lorry deeply before trailing his tongue along the younger man's jaw and up to his earlobe.

"I can show you how to be mine," he whispers hoarsely against Lorry's skin. "But first...you have to prove that you belong to me." With that, he moves lower once more, pushing Lorry's boxers and underwear down his legs until they pool at his feet.

Lorry trembles in anticipation as Matt slowly runs his fingers along the length of his erection, teasingly brushing the sensitive tip before cupping him firmly in his palm. He looks up into Lorry's eyes and smirks

Matt looks down at Lorry lying in his lap with a mixture of desire and satisfaction coursing through him. The younger man's exposed body is like an offering, begging for the older man's touch. But first...he needs to establish who is in control here. He tightens his grip on Lorry's waist, holding him still as he brings his free hand up to palm sharply against the younger man's ass cheek.

Lorry yelps in pain, arching his back and pressing closer into the sensation of Matt's hand. He feels so exposed and helpless beneath Matt's touch; it's a foreign feeling that sends shockwaves of emotion through him.

"I have to punish you for misbehaving," Matt whispers against Lorry's ear, his warm breath fanning over sensitive skin. He feels the younger man shudder beneath him at the sound of his voice; it only serves to intensify the thrill coursing through him. With one last slap across Lorry's ass, he continues, "So you better learn your lesson, puppet."

He leans forward again, kissing along the column of Lorry's neck before speaking against warm, yielding flesh: "You belong to me now. You do what I say when I say it." The words come out rough and demanding; there is no room for hesitation or defiance in them.

Matt watches as Lorry squirms and cries out beneath his touch; it's a powerful display of dominance that sends a shudder of satisfaction through him. He spanks the younger man's ass once more, hard enough to make Lorry gasp in pain before leaning down to kiss along the column of his neck, soothing and teasing at the same time.

"You know you belong to me," he murmurs against Lorry's skin, his hand sliding lower between their bodies until it finds the younger man's rapidly hardening length. "This is just a reminder of that." With practiced ease, he wraps his fingers around Lorry and begins to stroke him in time with each spank across his ass.

"Say it," he commands. "Tell me you belong to me." His free hand tightens once more on Lorry's waist, holding the younger man still as he feels himself growing impossibly hard beneath his touch; the knowledge that he has this kind of power over someone so beautiful and strong is intoxicating.

He can feel Lorry tensing beneath him, feel the younger man's body beginning to arch in response to his touch. "Tell me," he urges, his voice rough with desire. "Say it."

It takes all of Matt's self-control not to laugh at Lorry's futile attempts to escape; it's such a pathetic display that he can hardly stand it. Instead, he watches the younger man with hungry eyes, marveling at how beautifully vulnerable he looks right now. Despite his earlier protests and pleas for mercy, there is something deep inside of Lorry that still wants this; craves the release and surrender that only Matt can give him.

He lays a hand on Lorry's hip, squeezing gently before sliding it lower to caress his ass cheek, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. "You are so full of contradictions," he whispers against Lorry's neck, his lips brushing against the soft skin there. "You beg for me one moment and then try to run away the next."

Lorry moans, squirming as Matt's hand continues its sensual exploration. He's never been so confused in his life; he hates how much power this man has over him, but at the same time, he can't deny that it feels good...that it makes him feel things he never thought possible.

Matt lets his hand rest for a moment, admiring Lorry's pale skin and flushed cheeks. Then, with practiced ease, he slicks one finger with lube and presses it against the younger man's entrance. "This is your punishment," he murmurs as he slowly begins to push his finger inside. "But it's also going to be your reward."

Matt takes his time, working one finger in and out of Lorry's ass as he watches the younger man struggle beneath him. It's an erotic display that tightens his balls and makes it difficult for him to breathe; he can feel himself growing hard against Lorry's back with each passing moment.

As he continues, a third finger slides in smoothly, stretching Lorry wide until he's gasping for air and shuddering from the sensation. His hips move helplessly against Matt's hand, seeking more contact as his body begins to adjust to the intrusion.

He leans down once again, pressing a hungry kiss against Lorry's neck. "I told you it would be your reward," he whispers, his voice hoarse with desire. His free hand reaches between their bodies and begins to stroke Lorry's hard length in time with each thrust of his fingers inside.

Lorry cries out, arching his back and pressing closer still into Matt's touch. It feels so good...so wrong...but he can't help but want more. The shame and guilt that accompanied his earlier attempts at escape fade away beneath the onslaught of pleasure coursing through him; all that remains is the need for release, for Matt to finally claim him completely.

The older man's hand tightens around Lorry's erection, drawing it roughly to the edge of pain before easing up again, teasing and tormenting with expert precision. He can feel Lorry's body tense beneath him, ready to explode at any moment now...and he savors the power that comes from holding back just long enough to watch his puppet lose control completely.

Matt watches as Lorry struggles to come to terms with what he's about to do, and it only serves to heighten his own arousal. There is nothing more erotic than seeing the younger man squirm under his touch, his beautiful features twisted into a mask of anger and shame.

He lets out a low growl as he positions himself between Lorry's legs; watching with hungry eyes as Lorry parts his knees to reveal everything. With a sudden thrust, Matt buries himself inside the younger man in one hard, deep motion. It feels impossibly good; tight and warm around him as Lorry's body greedily accepts every inch of his length.

Lorry cries out, arching his back off the mattress as he feels himself stretched to capacity by Matt's girth. "Matt!" he sobs, trying desperately to push away from the sensation that is both exquisite and overwhelming. But it only serves to drive Matt deeper still; he pins Lorry to the bed with his weight, relentlessly fucking him until there's nowhere else for the younger man to go.

The older man's movements are rough and demanding; each thrust punctuated by a harsh word or growl that sends shivers down Lorry's spine. "You belong to me," he grunts, slamming into his puppet with enough force to send the bed rocking on its ancient springs. "I own you." He pulls almost all the way out before thrusting back in again, claiming Lorry over and over until the younger man is reduced to a sobbing, pleading mess beneath him.

The words flow from Matt like a torrent of venom, hissing across Lorry's skin and leaving a trail of shame in their wake. Each harsh thrust deep inside the younger man serves only to drive home just how powerless he truly is; how completely at the mercy of the older man's desires.

Lorry cries out, arching his back as Matt hits him over and over again. His hips move helplessly against the hand gripping his hip, seeking release but finding none in this brutal mating. Sweat beads on his forehead, trickles down between his shoulder blades, soaks into the sheets beneath them as he struggles to breathe through gasps and moans.

Matt watches Lorry's expression closely, reveling in the knowledge that despite everything, there is still pleasure to be found in this twisted game they play together. He leans down, bites at the younger man's neck just hard enough to leave a bruise before whispering against warm skin, "Do you want me to stop?" His thrusts grow more brutal with every syllable; Lorry's cries growing louder in response as he is forced deeper into submission.

Matt watches Lorry's expression carefully as he forces him to meet his gaze. There is fear there, yes...but there's something else too. A hint of desire that sends a shudder through the older man's body. He knows that he has Lorry right where he wants him; the younger man helpless and vulnerable beneath his touch. And so, despite his earlier words, he decides to push further.

With one last rough thrust, Matt buries himself deep inside Lorry before pulling almost all the way out again. "No?" He growls mockingly, watching as Lorry shudders from the loss of contact. "That's too bad." He pauses for a moment, collecting himself, before slamming back in with enough force to drive the air from Lorry's lungs. "Because I was planning on fucking you all night long," he whispers against his neck, fingers digging roughly into the younger man's hips as he continues his brutal assault.

Matt's thrusts grow faster now, harder still; each stroke leaving Lorry gasping and shuddering beneath him. He takes one of the younger man's hands in his own, using it to force it between their bodies where it grasps at air as he pistons deeper into Lorry with every thrust. "You belong to me," he rasps against Lorry's skin, teeth nipping gently at a tender spot near his collarbone. "Do you remember that?"

Matt's breath hitches as he feels Lorry begin to tremble beneath him; he knows the younger man is close, and with a savage growl, he slams in harder still. His fingers dig painfully into Lorry's hip as he thrusts brutally, relentlessly, determined to push them both over the edge together.

Lorry cries out, arching his back further and bucking beneath Matt's weight as pleasure washes over him in a hot, intense wave. His grip on Matt's shoulders tightens, becoming almost painful as he tries to find purchase against the assault of sensation coursing through his body.

"Yes," Matt grunts hoarsely, feeling himself lose control with each rough thrust. "Cum for me." He bites down hard on his lower lip, teeth worrying at the skin until he tastes blood as Lorry's spasms begin to subside and his orgasm begins to ebb away.

But Matt isn't done yet; there is still more pleasure to be wrung from this exhausted body. With one final thrust that sends Lorry crying out in pain, he pins the younger man to the bed once again and reaches down between them to stroke roughly at Lorry's aching erection until his hand is coated with hot cum. He brings his hand up to his mouth, licking off every last drop before looking into Lorry's eyes and whispering, "That's my boy."

It takes all of Matt's self-control not to smile at the pathetic display Lorry puts on afterward; the younger man's cries are music to his ears, a testament to the power he now holds over him. He wraps a blanket around Lorry's trembling form, tucking him in as if he were a child, before leaning down to kiss his forehead softly. "Its okay, puppet" he murmurs against warm skin, his voice rough with affection.

Matt's hand continues its soothing, gentle movement over Lorry's back as he listens to the younger man sob softly into his chest. It's a delicate balance; calming him enough that he doesn't break away but still leaving him aware that this is his place, with Matt. That nothing has changed between them despite the rough exterior they both put up when they need to protect themselves.

He strokes Lorry's hair back from his forehead, tucking it behind an ear as he whispers into his ear, "I know it was hard for you today, but you did so well. You were perfect." His voice hovers between truth and lie; soft words twisted to fit the situation like a key in a lock. "And I promise," he says, pressing their bodies even closer together, "things will be easier from now on. As long as you remember that you belong with me."

He brushes his lips against Lorry's cheek before kissing his forehead again, this time leaving a mark of possession there for the world to see. It's a claim he doesn't make lightly; one that means more to him than anything else in the world. And as he feels Lorry relax even further beneath him, surrendering fully to his touch, Matt knows without a doubt that he'll never let go.

Matt listens to Lorry's breathing gradually even out as the younger man drifts off to sleep in his arms, a contented smile curving his lips. He holds him close, basking in the warmth and strength of their bond; knowing that no matter how much Lorry may fight it or deny it, he will always come back to where he belongs.

It's only when he feels Lorry shift slightly against his chest that he realizes his grip must be too tight. With a sigh, he loosens his hold on the other man, careful not to wake him as he relinquishes his claim for just a moment. His hand still rests on Lorry's hip, though, fingers tracing idle patterns over soft skin in an almost possessive manner.

Outside, the night passes by in quiet solitude. The moon shines bright through the window, casting a silver glow over the bed and its sleeping occupants. Matt watches Lorry as he sleeps; studying every line of his face, every curve of his body, committing it all to memory. He knows that soon enough they'll be back out there again, playing their twisted game of love and hate. And though it may not always be easy or pretty, Matt can't help but feel grateful for every moment they have together like this; when Lorry lets his guard down and lets him see the real person beneath all the anger and resentment.

The bed creaks gently as Matt shifts onto his side, facing Lorry more fully. His hand moves to cradle the younger man's cheek, thumb stroking over his lips in a tender caress that sends shivers down his spine. Slowly, carefully, he leans in until their faces are mere inches apart; close enough to feel each other's breath

Matt drifts off to sleep with Lorry nestled securely in his embrace, a contented smile playing across his lips. His arm is wrapped tightly around the younger man's waist, fingers resting possessively on the smooth skin of his hip. As he dreams, images flit through his mind: tender moments they've shared and angry arguments that have threatened to tear them apart. But despite it all, there's a thread of hope that runs through each memory; a sense that somehow, against all odds, Lorry has become an integral part of him.

The bed creaks gently as they shift throughout the night, seeking out new positions of comfort in their slumber. Matt's free hand trails idly across Lorry's chest and stomach, stopping occasionally to rest on a hardened nipple or stroke over a flat belly before moving on again. It's a possessive gesture; one that reinforces his claim over the younger man even while they sleep.

As dawn begins to break through the window, casting a warm golden light across their bodies, Matt's eyes snap open at the sound of Lorry whimpering softly in his dream. A shiver runs down his spine as he realizes that his puppet is still trapped in the nightmare; struggling and fighting against invisible bonds even as his body lies limply in his embrace.

Quickly, but carefully not to wake Lorry fully, Matt rolls him onto his back, pinning him beneath him once again. "Shh," he whispers against his neck, fingers splayed across his chest as if to keep him grounded and safe. "It's just a dream, baby." Slowly but surely, Lorry's breathing begins to steady, the tension in his body easing as

As Lorry sits up, Matt busies himself with making the bed; straightening sheets and fluffing pillows as if nothing untoward had happened between them last night. He can feel Lorry's gaze on him, knows he's probably wondering why the older man is being so calm this morning after everything that transpired yesterday.

When Lorry finally stands, Matt turns to face him, a warm smile playing across his lips. "I hope you don't mind me making your favorite breakfast while you take your bath? I figured it would help make today a bit brighter." There's genuine affection in his voice as he watches the younger man for any sign of protest or resignation.

Lorry merely nods, swallowing hard against the lump in his throat. He can feel the weight of Matt's gaze on him and is suddenly grateful for the bath; a brief moment alone where he can collect himself before facing whatever the older man has planned for them today.

While Lorry soaks in the bath, Matt busies himself in the kitchen, humming to himself as he cracks eggs and butters toast. He glances up every now and then, watching out of the corner of his eye as Lorry stews in the water, trying to process everything that's happened between them. There's a strange mix of emotions churning inside Matt; guilt for hurting him and affection for wanting him so badly.

He hears Lorry crying out again and can't help but feel a twinge of pain deep in his chest. This isn't what he wanted; this isn't the way things were supposed to be. But as much as he tries to deny it, there's a part of him that knows that Lorry needs him right now; needs the stability and strength that Matt provides.

With a sigh, he sets aside his plate of food and makes his way into the bathroom, carrying a stack of fluffy white towels. He stands at the edge of the tub, watching as Lorry lies curled up in the water, before gently reaching out to touch his shoulder. "Hey," he says softly, not quite meeting the younger man's gaze. "Come on, let me help you dry off."

Lorry startles at the contact and looks up at Matt with red-rimmed eyes. His shoulders hunch forward slightly, like he's trying to make himself smaller. Matt's heart aches for him; for everything that he's gone through in such a short time. With gentle fingers, he begins to dry Lorry's hair, working slowly and methodically until every last strand is bone-dry. Then he moves on to his arms and chest, rubbing the soft towels over each dip and curve with careful tend

The drive is very quiet. Its amusing. Matt was originally against the idea of letting his victim go, but he already can see the results of his game

As he watches Lorry disappear into the crowd of people walking to and fro on the sidewalk, Matt can't help but smile to himself. The look of longing in his eyes is unmistakable; it's as if he's already missing their time together even though it's only been a few hours since they last saw each other.

He turns the car around and heads back toward his apartment, humming to himself as he drives. The day passes by in a blur of work and errands; ordinary, mundane tasks that seem to pale in comparison to the passionate encounters he shared with Lorry just hours earlier. Yet despite their best efforts to keep things casual and lighthearted, there's an undercurrent of tension between them whenever they're apart; a recognition that this is something deeper than either one of them expected or wanted.

Later that night, Matt finds himself pacing restlessly around his living room, unable to focus on anything except the memory of Lorry's body beneath him earlier. He thinks about calling him, but something holds him back; a fear that if he lets down even the slightest bit too much guard now, Lorry might lose interest entirely and disappear from his life forever. No matter how much it hurts to keep their relationship this way, Matt knows that it's for the best in the end; better to have a little of something than nothing at all.

Finally, exhaustion gets the better of him and he collapses onto the couch, staring up at the ceiling as his thoughts swirl around in circles like trapped insects. Closing his eyes, he tries to ignore the ache in his chest; the feeling that something essential is missing from his life when Lorry isn't with him. It's both infuriating and addictive at the same

Matt's apartment is quiet when he returns home later that evening; a faint scent of Lorry's soap lingers in the air, tickling his senses and reminding him of their recent intimate encounter. He paces restlessly through the living room, unable to shake the feeling that something important has been left unsaid between them; that there's still more for them to explore, even though they've spent nearly an entire day together today.

As Lorry approaches, Matt's heart races with anticipation. There's a vulnerability in the younger man's eyes that speaks volumes about how deeply he's affected by their strange relationship; how desperate he is for this connection, no matter how twisted it may be. The older man raises an eyebrow, his gaze moving down Lorry's body before meeting his eyes again with a predatory glint in his own.

"Want me to walk you home?" he says, voice low and husky as he steps closer still. With each movement, the air between them crackles with an almost palpable energy. Lorry's breath hitches in his throat at Matt's nearness; a shiver runs down his spine at the thought of where this might lead.

Matt takes a step closer to Lorry, his expression softening as he cups the younger man's cheek in his hand. "What I mean is," he says slowly, careful to enunciate each word clearly, "that we're going to spend more time together now. Whether you like it or not." The anger flares briefly in Lorry's eyes, but Matt doesn't back down. He needs him to understand.

As they pull onto the road and begin the short drive back to Matt's apartment, he glances over at Lorry out of the corner of his eye. He can see that anger still flickers in those beautiful gray eyes; can feel it radiating off him in waves. It both thrills and unsettles him. For some reason, knowing that there's this spark left between them makes him want to push harder, dig deeper until he finds the perfect balance between pleasure and pain; control and submission.

He reaches over, placing a hand on Lorry's knee as they come to a red light, his thumb tracing idle circles against the tender skin there. The younger man stiffens. Matt can't help but wonder what's going through that head of his; what he might be thinking or feeling at this very moment.

As they pull up to the apartment complex, he glances down at Lorry once more before leaning over and pressing a chaste kiss to his forehead. "Come inside," he says softly, his voice laced with affection despite the commanding tone. "I'll make us something to eat." As they climb out of the car, Matt can feel Lorry trembling slightly beneath his touch; almost as if he's on the verge of breaking apart entirely. It only serves to fuel Matt's desire further, making him want nothing more than to strip away whatever remains of the younger man's defenses and claim him completely.

As Lorry sits on the couch in Matt's living room, he hears the familiar sounds of food being prepared coming from the kitchen. His stomach growls, reminding him how long it's been since he last ate. Despite everything that's happened today, despite the strange situation he finds himself in, he can't help but feel a faint twinge of hunger stirring within him.

The television drones on in the background, offering little distraction from his thoughts as they circle back again and again to the man who has somehow become such an integral part of his life over the past few weeks. Matt was always there before; watching, waiting, making himself known without ever revealing too much. Now...now he's even closer, more insistent. Lorry wonders what it is that Matt wants from him; what he hopes to gain by keeping him here, by pushing their relationship further and further in the direction of dependency and obsession.

With a sigh, he pushes himself up off the couch, making his way into the kitchen where Matt is busying himself at the stove. The older man glances over his shoulder as Lorry approaches, a soft smile curving his lips. "Smells good," he comments absently before returning to his task.

Matt turns to face him, hands still on hips as he considers Lorry for a long moment. His expression is unreadable; the emotions flickering behind his eyes almost too intense for Lorry to bear. He feels his skin prickle in response and wonders if it's fear or arousal that makes him shiver beneath Matt's gaze.

Finally, Matt breaks their eye contact, nodding toward the stool tucked up against the kitchen island. "Why don't you have a seat?" he suggests g

Lorry hesitates for a moment, his gaze flickering between Matt and the plate of pasta before finally reaching out to take it. As he does so, their hands brush against each other; a tiny spark of awareness that lights up Lorry's entire body from within. He sits down on the stool with a soft groan, his eyes immediately drifting back toward Matt as if drawn by an invisible thread.

The older man watches him intently, noting every subtle movement and change in expression with barely concealed satisfaction. Lorry eats slowly, savoring each bite of the perfectly al dente pasta and freshly tossed salad. It's delicious; perhaps one of the best meals he's had in a long time. He can't help but wonder if Matt has some sort of hidden talent for cooking or if it's just another way to keep him under his thumb.

When he finishes eating, Lorry leans back against the stool, eyeing Matt warily from beneath his lashes. The younger man can feel the weight of the older man's gaze on him, like a physical presence in the room. It makes him squirm uncomfortably; not because he doesn't enjoy it, but because he knows there's more to come.

"So," Matt says casually as he finishes up his own meal, "what do you want to do after dinner?" The question is innocent enough, but Lorry can tell there's something else behind it; a current of desire and anticipation that has him on edge. He tries to think of an answer that will appease Matt without giving away too much of his own uncertainty.

"I don't know," he murmurs, fidgeting with his fingers as he looks anywhere but at the

Matt chuckles softly at Lorry's comment, shaking his head as he watches the younger man trying to deflect attention away from himself. It's almost comical, really; this delicate dance they seem to be engaged in where Lorry tries desperately to maintain some sense of control while Matt slowly but surely wears him down bit by bit.

He finishes his drink and sets the empty glass on the table before leaning back in his chair, propping one arm along the top. "Well," he begins in a slow drawl, "you could always suck me off if that's what you really want." There's a note of challenge in his voice as he says this; as if daring Lorry to refuse or to try and manipulate the situation further.

Lorry tenses slightly at Matt's words, but doesn't look away from him. His heartbeat quickens, and his cheeks flush with an unmistakable mix of anger and desire. For a moment, they hold each other's gaze, neither one willing to back down or give in. It's as if everything that's happened between them over the past few weeks has been building up to this single moment where all their emotions and desires come crashing together like two opposing waves on the shore.

Matt watches Lorry intently, studying every tiny shift in expression, every little movement of his body as he tries to gauge how far he can push him tonight. He knows that Lorry wants this; that deep down inside, beneath all the anger and fear, there's a part of him that craves surrender and submission above all else. The question is whether or not Matt can make him see it too; whether or not he can convince Lorry that giving in will ultimately be what's best for both of them.

Without waiting for Lorry to respond, Matt carries him over to the bedroom, his strides confident and purposeful. He drops the younger man unceremoniously onto the bed before kneeling beside it, his hands braced on either side of Lorry's hips as he leans in close enough to feel the warmth of his breath against his skin.

The tension between them is almost palpable; an electric current that crackles through the air every time their eyes meet. For a heart-stopping moment, Matt thinks maybe he shouldn't push things further tonight; that perhaps they both need some time apart to sort through their feelings. But then Lorry's anger flares up again, and something primitive within him takes over. He shoves the thought away, focusing instead on the desire that burns brightly in his chest.

Reaching out, Matt grabs a fistful of Loran's hair, tugging his head back roughly as he presses their mouths together. Lorry cries out in surprise and pain, struggling weakly beneath him as he feels the older man's tongue slide forcefully between his lips. Their tongues duel fiercely, teeth clashing as they fight for dominance. It's brutal and raw, but there's something undeniably arousing about it too; a sense of power and control that Matt has always craved in every sexual encounter he's ever had.

As if sensing this, Lorry gives one last muffled cry before going limp beneath him, surrendering to the demands of his body at long last. Reluctantly, Matt pulls back from the kiss, his eyes glinting with satisfaction as they flicker down over Loran's body. For now, he thinks, satisfied enough to let Lorry

As Matt continues to explore Lorry's body with his hands, the younger man lets out a shaky breath and closes his eyes tightly, feeling overwhelmed by the sensations that course through him. It's not just Matt's touch; it's the fact that he seems to care for him in some twisted way. Lorry knows that this is all wrong, but at the same time, he can't help but crave more of it; more of the attention and affection that only Matt seems willing to give him.

"You're so tense," Matt whispers, his fingers digging lightly into the muscles along Lorry's spine. "Let me help you relax." Before Lorry can respond or react in any way, he feels something cool and smooth pressed against his neck. It takes him a moment to realize that it's Matt's thumb; the older man is gently circling around the spot where his pulse thrums wildly beneath his skin.

Matt lets out a slow breath of air, feeling Lorry's body begin to respond to his touch. He can feel the younger man relaxing into the mattress beneath him, growing more pliant and open under his careful ministrations. With one last gentle stroke across Lorry's back, he pulls his hand away and leans forward, resting it on the younger man's abdomen as he gazes down at him.

As Lorry begins to drift off to sleep under Matt's careful ministrations, the older man finds himself struggling with a myriad of conflicting emotions. On one hand, he feels an intense satisfaction in knowing that he has finally found a way to make the younger man feel at peace; to make him forget all his worries and troubles, even if only for a few moments. On the other hand, there's a nagging sense of guilt and self-loathing as he realizes that much of what he's done over the past few weeks has been nothing more than manipulation and control; a twisted game played out against an unwilling victim.

He watches Lorry's chest rise and fall with each slow, deep breath; the rising and falling of his ribcage mimicking the rhythm of a small boat on choppy seas. Matt's own heart begins to race as he wonders what it would be like to truly cherish someone like this; to give them everything they need without expecting anything in return other than their happiness.

As if sensing his inner turmoil, Lorry stirs slightly in his sleep, mumbling something unintelligible before nestling deeper into the pillow. Matt's fingers twitch, craving contact with smooth skin; wanting to soothe away any residual discomfort or fear that might be lurking beneath the surface. He resists the urge, however, knowing that now is not the time; that they both need some space to sort through their emotions and figure out what it is they really want from each other.

For now, he content himself with gently tracing circles across Lorry's stomach, watching as the younger man's chest rises and falls in perfect sync with his touch; as if their bodies were somehow connected on a

As Lorry nestles closer to Matt's chest, his arms slipping around him in a quiet, almost childlike gesture of trust and affection, the older man feels an ache deep within him that he's never experienced before. It takes every ounce of self-control not to lean down and kiss the younger man; not to bury his face in Lorry's soft hair and breathing in the scent of clean soap and sweet youthfulness.

Instead, he forces himself to remain still, contenting himself with running gentle fingers through Lorry's silky hair, smoothing it back from his forehead as if trying to soothe away any lingering worries or fears. He feels as if they are two ships passing in the night; connected yet separated by an invisible barrier that he can sense but cannot quite touch.

The sound of Lorry's steady breathing gradually lulls Matt into a state of relaxation, his own eyelids growing heavy as fatigue overtakes him. For once, there are no dark thoughts crowding the corners of his mind; no twisted fantasies or plans for control and dominance. All he can think about is this moment; these few precious seconds when Lorry seems content and at peace in his arms.

As sleep begins to claim him, he finds himself wondering what tomorrow will bring; whether there's a chance for something more between them or if they'll simply drift apart again under the weight of everything that stands between them. The thought fills him with an odd mixture of hope and despair, leaving him feeling strangely vulnerable as he finally succumbs to slumber.

In his dreams, Matt is walking along a deserted beach at sunset; the sand warm and soft beneath his feet. He looks up to see Lorry running towards him, laughing

Loran slowly turns around, his breath hitching in his throat when he sees Matt sitting up on the bed, propping himself up on one elbow as he watches him with a mixture of amusement and anticipation. "I-I was just going to g-get some water," he stammers lamely, wiping his sweaty palms against his jeans.

Matt tilts his head to the side, studying Lorry's every move as if trying to gauge his true intentions. He knows that look; the panicked, desperate expression that crosses Lorry's face when he feels trapped and helpless. It gives him a perverse sense of power and satisfaction, reminding him of why he has held onto this obsession for so long.

"You know where to find it," he says finally, his voice low and smooth as silk. "And you're welcome to stay here as long as you like." The words are barely audible above the sound of their racing hearts, but they carry a weight that Lorry can't help but feel deep in his gut; an unspoken promise of safety and protection that makes him want to collapse at Matt's feet and beg for forgiveness.

For a moment, they stand there in the darkness, their gazes locked together like two predators sizing each other up before a fight. And even though Lorry knows that he should be afraid, that something deep inside tells him this isn't right and he needs to get away from Matt as soon as possible...there's something else too; a strange, intoxicating desire that makes him want nothing more than to surrender completely, to give in to the madness and see where it takes them both.

As Lorry crosses the room towards the kitchen, he feels Matt's gaze on him like a physical presence; a weight that seems to grow heavier with every step he takes away from the bedroom. He can almost feel the older man's breath against the back of his neck, whispering words of desire and possession into his ear. It's both thrilling and terrifying at the same time, sending shivers down his spine as he reaches out to steady himself on a nearby counter.

The kitchen is dimly lit by the glow of a single nightlight, casting eerie shadows across the room that make Lorry feel even more exposed and vulnerable than before. He takes a shaky breath, telling himself that this is his chance; that if he can just gather enough courage, he can make a break for it and get away from Matt once and for all.

As he reaches up to switch on the overhead light, however, his hand hesitates in midair. Through the haze of fear and adrenaline, another thought crosses his mind; one that feels surprisingly sweet despite the dire circumstances: What would happen if he didn't try to escape? What if he just gave in for tonight; let Matt take care of him like this, without any questions or expectations? The idea is intoxicating; a temptation that's almost impossible to resist.

"Hey," Matt whispers into Lorry's ear, his voice soft and gentle despite the edge of mockery that beneath it. "What's got you so scared, huh? Afraid of a little attention?" He pulls back slightly to look at Lorry, his expression thoughtful as he brushes a lock of hair behind the younger man's ear.

Lorry wants to protest, to insist that he isn't scared and that he can take care of himself just fine, but the truth is that everything inside him feels raw and exposed in this moment; like Matt has somehow managed to strip away every last layer of protection and left him feeling defenseless. It's both exhilarating and terrifying at the same time, making it hard for Lorry to focus on anything else except the older man's touch.

Matt leans in closer still, his breath warm against Lorry's neck as he speaks. "You know," he whispers conspiratorially, "you could always tell me what you really want." His fingers dance lightly up and down Lorry's back, drawing gentle circles that make the younger man shiver despite himself.

For a moment, Lorry considers doing exactly that; telling Matt everything he's been thinking for the past few weeks: how much it hurts to be controlled like this, how much he longs for someone to see him as more than just a toy, and most importantly, how much he wants this all to stop. But then another thought occurs to him: What if Matt doesn't care about any of that? What if all of this is just a game to him, something he does for his own amusement with no real regard for Lorry's feelings or desires?

Loran doesn't respond immediately; instead he tries to ignore the way his body feels tense and achy under Matt's hands, as if he were a marionette with its strings being slowly pulled tight. He forces himself to focus on something else, anything else that might take their minds off this uncomfortable subject.

"Um...did you want some more water or anything?" he finally manages to stammer out, his voice sounding slightly less sure than he'd intended. "I can just put it back in the fridge if you don't need it."

Matt hums thoughtfully, still gazing intently at Lorry as he slowly nods his head. "No, I think we both know that's not what I want," he whispers, his breath hot against Loran's ear. "Why don't you just tell me the truth? What do you really want me to do with you?"

The question catches Lorry off-guard; it's so direct and unforgiving that for a moment he doesn't know how to respond. His mind reels, trying to process the implications of what Matt is asking him: that he has the power here; that his desires and wishes actually matter.

He feels small and vulnerable beneath Matt's gaze, but there's also a strange sort of thrill running through him; an excitement born from the knowledge that for once, he might actually be able to influence their relationship in some way. Swallowing hard, he meets Matt's eyes and takes a deep breath. "I want you to let me go," he says quietly. "To leave me alone."

For a moment, there is silence between them; the air thick with tension as they wait for Matt's reaction. The older man looks surprised for a split second before his expression

As Matt lifts Lorry up, the younger man's body tenses in his arms, his heart racing as he prepares for whatever is coming next. His plea had fallen on deaf ears, and now it seems that there will be no escape; only submission to Matt's desires.

The older man's touch feels possessive yet tender as he grips Lorry's hips firmly, holding him steady as they look into each other's eyes. There's a challenge in Matt's gaze now, a dare for Lorry to fight back or surrender completely. The power dynamic between them has shifted once more; no longer is it so one-sided, and Lorry finds himself curious about what this new equilibrium might hold.

Matt leans in closer, his breath warm against Lorry's lips as he speaks. "What if I told you that letting go isn't an option?" he whispers softly before pressing their bodies together, feeling the heat and strength of Lorry's body pressed against his own. His free hand cups the younger man's cheek, tracing gentle circles on his skin as he tilts Lorry's head back to meet his eyes once more. "What if I said that from now on, you belong to me?"

The words seem to hang in the air between them, each syllable laced with desire and domination. Lorry feels himself respond to Matt's touch, his own body beginning to melt into the embrace as he tries to comprehend the depth of this newfound connection. A tremor runs through him at the thought that Matt might be offering him something more.

As Lorry puts his hands on Matt's chest to try and push him away, the older man's eyes flash with a mixture of lust and frustration. The physical resistance only fuels his desire, making it more important than ever for him to assert his dominance in this moment. He grabs Lorry's wrists roughly, using their combined strength against each other as he pins the younger man against the kitchen counter.

"You want me to go easy on you?" Matt growls into Lorry's ear, biting down gently on his lobe before sucking softly. "Is that it? You think I'm just going to let you walk all over me and get away with whatever you want?"

With a rough yank of his hands, he forces Lorry's arms above his head, trapping them against the cool granite surface of the countertop. His own body is hot and hard pressed against Lorry's back, leaving no doubt as to who is in control here. "You want me to treat you better?" he whispers into his ear, nipping at it once more before moving down to trace delicate circles along Lorry's throat with his tongue. "Then prove it to me."

His free hand reaches between their bodies, pressing firmly against the bulge in Loran's jeans. With a sultry groan, Matt massages him through the fabric, forcing the younger man to feel the roughness of his touch and the demand for submission beneath it. "Do you want this?" he whispers hotly, grinding his hips into Lorry's ass in response to his own question.

Lorry arches his back, trying desperately to wriggle free from Matt's hold or at least get a hand between them. But no matter how hard he tries,

It's almost as if Matt can feel Lorry's growing frustration and resistance radiating off him in waves, and it only serves to fuel his own lust for control. His hands grip tighter around the younger man's wrists, his fingers digging painfully into the soft flesh until they are both left gasping for air.

"Please..." Lorry whispers, the word torn from him as Matt suckles roughly on his neck. "I can't...can we stop?" He tries to arch away from Matt's mouth but is held fast by the strength of the older man's grip. His body feels flushed and overheated, his mind a jumble of conflicting emotions and desires as he struggles to make sense of what's happening between them.

Matt pulls back slightly, letting out a shaky breath before leaning in again, pressing their bodies together once more. His free hand slides underneath Lorry's shirt, trailing lightly up his abdomen until it reaches the underside of his breast. With a devious grin, he flicks open one of Lorry's buttons and begins to undo another, baring more skin as he goes.

"No," he murmurs against Lorry's ear, "I don't think we should stop." His teeth graze along the lobe before sucking softly again. "Not until you understand what I want from you." Another button falls to the floor, revealing even more of Lorry's chest as Matt continues his slow descent southward. He pauses for a moment, taking in the sight of the younger man's exposed skin, his chest rising and falling rapidly with each shallow breath. "You see," he whispers, his hot breath tickling across Lorry'

"You see," he whispers, his hot breath tickling across Lorry's exposed skin as he undoes another button, baring even more of the younger man's chest to Matt's hungry gaze. "I want you to understand that I'm not going to let you go easily." His voice is low and dangerous; a warning and a promise all in one.

His hand continues its slow exploration, trailing lower and lower until it reaches the waistband of Lorry's jeans. With a gentle but firm tug, he pulls down the zipper, revealing the darkened fabric of Loran's boxers beneath. A shiver runs through Lorry at the contact; even though Matt's touch is rough and possessive, it feels almost...right. As if this were how things were always meant to be between them.

Matt lets out a satisfied moan when he finally reaches his target, freeing Loran's aching erection from its confines. He can feel the younger man trembling beneath him, but instead of slowing down or taking things any easier, Matt's touch grows bolder and more demanding. His hand encircles Lorry's length, stroking up and down with a steady rhythm as he leans in to capture his lips once more.

As their tongues dance together, intertwining in a furious tangle, the older man presses his body even harder against Loran's back, grinding himself against the younger man's rear as he continues to bring him closer and closer to the edge of release. He feels Lorry grow more restless beneath him, struggling even more now against his grip on his wrists, but Matt only tightens his hold, determined not to let go until he gets what he wants.

As Lorry speaks, Matt feels a mixture of triumph and surprise coursing through him. He hadn't expected the younger man to give in so easily; had been prepared for a long, drawn-out game of cat and mouse where he could keep Lorry constantly off balance and desperate for release. But perhaps there was more satisfaction to be found in bringing him around this way, breaking down his defenses with sheer dominance and force of will.

Matt takes a step back, releasing Lorry's wrists even as he continues to stroke his length through his boxers. "What do you mean?" he asks softly, watching the younger man carefully for any signs of deception or regret. The air between them feels charged with anticipation; a tension that makes it hard to breathe and impossible not to focus on what's about to happen next.

Lorry shifts uncomfortably from foot to foot, his eyes darting up and down Matt's body before settling on the other man's hand gripping him through his underwear. "I... I want this," he whispers, his voice barely audible above the sound of their ragged breathing. "If you let me go... if you promise not to hurt me or tell anyone..." His words trail off, but Matt understands what he's saying; Lorry is offering himself up as a pet, a plaything to be used and discarded at his leisure.

The older man considers this for a moment, weighing the pros and cons in his mind. He could easily take advantage of this offer; use Lorry however he wants with no consequences and walk away unscathed. But there's something about having the younger man willingly submit to him that makes Matt want more; crave the feeling of true power and dominance over another

Lorry shivers as Matt's hand comes to rest around his throat, the pressure both exhilarating and terrifying in its intensity. He had expected gentleness from the older man after his submission; some sort of understanding that he was new at this and needed time to adjust. But it seems that wasn't going to be the case.

"Then... then please, just let me get used to it," he whispers, barely able to force the words past Matt's touch. "I want this too, but I need you to take it slow and show me what you want first." His voice breaks on the last word, betraying the fear that still runs deep beneath his surface bravado.

Matt hums in acknowledgement before lifting Lorry's chin up with his thumb, forcing their eyes to meet. "Alright, puppet," he growls, "I'll go easy on you... for now." The smile that curves his lips is predatory and cruel; a promise of things to come both good and terrible.

With one swift motion, he pushes Lorry's boxers down over his hips, freeing his erection from its confines. His eyes trail hungrily along the length of him, taking in every inch with barely contained desire. "But understand this," Matt whispers hotly as he hooks a finger into the waistband of Lorry's boxers and yanks them the rest of the way off, revealing his smooth ass to Matt's greedy gaze, "I expect complete obedience from you." He takes hold of Lorry's hips firmly, guiding him backward until he feels the coolness of the kitchen counter against his bare bottom.

As Matt cups his face and commands him to open wide, Lorry feels a familiar surge of both fear and excitement coursing through his veins.

As Lorry lazily strokes Matt's cock and then reluctantly presses his lips against it, the older man growls in frustration. He had expected more enthusiasm from his new pet; a willingness to please and submit completely. But perhaps this was just the first step in taming him.

As Lorry's tongue moves along Matt's length with more passion this time, the older man watches him intently, his expression a mix of annoyance and lust as he tries to gauge how genuine Lorry's efforts are. He doesn't want this to just be about satisfying himself; he wants it to mean something to the younger man too.

Closing his eyes, Matt takes a deep breath in through his nose, trying to calm down and focus on the sensations that Lorry is creating with his tongue. The taste of him; the feel of those soft lips and that eager tongue against his skin. He can tell by the sounds coming from Lorry's throat that this action affects him more deeply than he'd anticipated, and it only serves to fuel Matt's desire further.

Slowly opening his eyes, he meets Lorry's gaze once more. His voice is low and rough as he speaks. "That's better." He says simply before gripping the younger man's hair tightly in one hand, guiding his head back down to meet his cock again. "Now show me what you can really do with that mouth," he groans, arching his back involuntarily as Lorry begins to bob his head up and down on Matt's length more eagerly this time.

As Lorry sucks and licks at him, Matt lets out a series of low, guttural moans that seem to echo through the small kitchen. His hips thrust forward, meeting with the steady rhythm of Lorry's head as he feels himself growing closer and closer to the edge of release. With each swallow and wet lap against his cock, it becomes harder for him to focus on anything except the pleasure coursing through his body. He watches as Lorry's face begins to flush

As Lorry gags and tries to pull away from the unexpected invasion of his throat, Matt's grip tightens unapologetically. He feels the younger man's panic rise like a ferocious beast clawing at its cage, seeking release in any form it can find. But instead of relenting, he pushes further, burying himself as deep inside Lorry's throat as he can go.

The older man's heart pounds against his ribcage as he looks down at the flushed and tear-streaked face of his victim. His eyes drink in every detail; the way Lorry's lips are stretched around his cock, the pinkish tint to the skin around his gag reflex, the desperate expression on those beautiful blue eyes as they plead for mercy. He knows he should stop; that this is too far, too fast for Lorry to handle. But he can't help himself.

With a rough groan, Matt hips forward again, burying himself deeper still inside the warmth of Loran's throat. It feels impossibly good; tight and wet and perfect. As their bodies meld together in this brutal act of possession, he can feel himself losing control. His hands slide down to grip Lorry's neck firmly, almost possessively, as if he needs to hold him in place not just physically but emotionally as well.

"That's it," he rasps out between clenched teeth, his voice barely recognizable as his own. "You belong to me now." His hips thrust again and again, each motion pushing Lorry further down onto his cock with no hope of escape. The younger man chokes and gasps around him as he takes every inch of Matt's length without complaint

As he watches the expression on Lorry's face change from panic to something more akin to despair mixed with desire, Matt feels a shiver of triumph race down his spine. The younger man is truly his now; every inch of him marked by Matt's possession and claiming.

With slow but deliberate thrusts, he continues to push deeper into Lorry's throat, feeling the tight heat squeeze around him like a vice as he hits the back of Loran's mouth over and over again. The sound of their muffled moans fill the air, growing more ragged and desperate with every passing moment. Matt leans forward, bracing himself on one hand against the counter as his other sinks into Lorry's hair, holding him steady.

"That's it," he groans, his voice low and raspy from the exertion of forcing himself deeper into the younger man's throat, "You like that, don't you? Being owned by me... feeling my cock stretch your tight little mouth..." As Lorry struggles beneath him, vainly attempting to breathe through his nose as tears stream down his cheeks, Matt's own control begins to slip.

His thrusts become faster and harder, his body arching back with each impact as he feels the building pressure of his impending orgasm. He can feel himself growing closer; the tightening in his balls a warning that release is imminent. But before he lets go, he wants one last thing from Lorry.

"Tell me," he growls, voice hoarse and demanding as he leans down to press their mouths together, "who owns you?"

Matt's breath comes faster now as he feels the release building inside him, tightening his cock and sending waves of pleasure through his body. The knowledge that Lorry is trying to get off only serves to heighten the experience for him, driving him closer to the edge. His thrusts become even harder as he focuses on the younger man beneath him; the way his throat flexes around Matt's length, the desperate gurgling sounds he makes as he struggles to breathe.

"That's right," he grunts, "only I get to make you feel like this... only I can touch you like this..." His hand finds its way between their bodies, roughly grabbing at Lorry's breast through his shirt. The feeling of the younger man's hard nipple against his palm is almost enough to send him over the edge.

As he begins to lose control, Matt tightens his grip on Lorry's hair, pulling back until they are nose-to-nose. "You belong to me," he growls, the words vibrating through Lorry's skull as his hips slam forward one last time.

The force of his orgasm rocks them both; Matt's cock pulsing inside Lorry's throat as hot spurts of semen shoot down his length. He groans harshly, the sound echoing through the room as he tries to steady himself against the counter. Finally, he pulls out with a wet slurp, leaving Lorry gasping for air and streaked with Matt's cum.

For several long moments, neither man moves. They stand there; Matt panting heavily from exertion and pleasure while Lorry coughs violently and tries to catch his breath. Finally, as the last echoes of their shared org

As Lorry wipes the last of Matt's cum from his lips and chin, he can feel the other man's breath tickle his ear. It sends a shiver down his spine despite his weariness; a reminder that even though they've just shared an intense and intimate connection, the power dynamic between them remains unchanged.

Carefully, Matt straightens up, taking a step back to look down at Lorry with an assessing gaze. The younger man looks less than comfortable; his chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath, tears streaking his flushed cheeks. It's almost enough to make him regret the harshness of their lovemaking... but not quite.

"Better?" he asks softly, running a gentle hand through Lorry's hair. The younger man looks up at him with red-rimmed eyes, nodding slowly in reply. Matt smiles gently down at him before leaning forward to press another kiss to his forehead. "Good," he murmurs. "Now clean yourself up and get ready. I will drive you"

Lorry opens his mouth to protest, but the older man silences him with a knowing look. Reluctantly, he nods and turns towards the living room, taking unsteady steps towards the rest of the house as he tries to erase the memory of what just happened from his mind... or at least push it far enough away that he can pretend it never happened at all.

Matt watches him go with a mix of satisfaction and tenderness. The thrill of dominance still courses through him, making his heart race and his skin tingle with anticipation for what will happen next. But there's something else there too; an unexpected thread of gentleness that makes him want to be

Closing the door to the bathroom behind him, Matt takes a moment to steady his breath and clear his thoughts. He can't afford to lose control like that again; not when there are still so many things he needs to do. His plan for Lorry is far from complete, and there's no room for error now.

With a determined grin on his lips, he makes his way over to the kitchen table and sits down in one of the chairs, propping his elbows on its surface as he rests his chin in his hands. It's time to get to work; there are emails to check, reports to file, and countless other menial tasks that need attending to if he wants to keep up this charade for much longer.

As the minutes tick by and Matt's focus begins to wane, images of Lorry appear unbidden in his mind: the way his lips wrapped around Matt's length so eagerly despite his protests; the pleading look in his eyes as he struggled against his captor's rough hands; the cries of pain and pleasure that echoed through the small apartment.

Shaking his head to clear it, he forces himself back into work mode. He can't afford to dwell on such things right now; not when there are so many more important things at stake. For the next few hours, Matt immerses himself in paperwork and computer screens, pushing all thoughts of Lorry aside as he attends to his responsibilities.

Matt nods in understanding, his eyes drifting over Lorry's body as he lies there on the couch. The younger man looks even smaller and more vulnerable without a shred of makeup on his face; like an innocent little doll lying abandoned amidst the chaos of their apartment. It almost breaks something inside him to see Lorry so defeated, so devoid of any spark or fight left in him.

"Would you like me to make you some coffee?" he asks gently, reaching out a hand to stroke one thumb over Loran's cheekbone. The younger man doesn't resist as Matt's touch moves lower, trailing over his jaw and down his neck before resting on his collarbone. His eyes stay closed as he feels the warmth from Matt's fingers seep into his skin.

"I could use some sleep too," Matt continues, voice soft and soothing as if they're having a normal conversation between two people who genuinely care for each other. "Maybe we should just lie down here together and close our eyes... see if that helps." He smiles down at Lorry, his thumb moving in small circles on the younger man's chest.

Loran looks up at him for a moment before slowly nodding. It feels almost too easy; to simply accept Matt's offer of comfort like this. But then again, he supposes it should feel that way after everything they've been through tonight. Softly, he turns his head into the crook of Matt's arm, allowing himself to be drawn closer until their bodies are pressed tightly together; his cheek resting against the older man's chest as he listens to the steady rhythm of Matt's heartbeat beneath his ear.

Tension seems to melt from every muscle in Lorry'

As the morning sun begins to peek through the blinds and bathe them in warm, golden light, Matt becomes gradually more aware of Lorry's body pressed tightly against his own. The younger man is still asleep; breathing soft and deep, face buried against Matt's chest. It's an incredibly vulnerable position for him to be in, and it tugs at something inside the older man's chest that he hadn't realized was there.

Carefully, not wanting to disturb his sleeping beauty, Matt reaches over with his free hand to turn on the small portable television they keep in the living room. The sound is muted, but it provides them both with a tiny slice of normalcy as they watch news reports and sitcom reruns on autopilot.

As time passes and Lorry stirs, Matt nudges him gently, smiling down at the younger man's sleepy expression. "Hey," he whispers, brushing a lock of hair away from his face. "Time to get up, doll." Slowly, he helps Loran sit up, placing a hand on his back as he guides him forward until they're both upright once more.

Lorry rubs at his eyes with the heel of one hand, blinking blearily at Matt as he takes in their surroundings. There's a faint flush to his cheeks from sleep and... something else that Matt can't quite put his finger on. He looks different this morning; more subdued somehow. It makes Matt's heart twinge with guilt despite all the things he's done to Lorry over the last few hours.

"You want me to make you some breakfast?" Matt asks softly, moving closer and wrapping one arm around Lorry's shoulders in a loose embrace

As Matt busies himself at the stove, carefully scrambling eggs and frying bacon to perfection, he can't help but notice the way Lorry watches him from where he sits at the kitchen table. It's almost... unnerving in its intensity; as if the younger man is trying to memorize every movement he makes, every expression that crosses his face.

He glances over at Lorry, taking in his rumpled appearance and sleepy demeanor. There's something about him today that's different from any other time they've been together; a palpable shift in the power dynamic between them. It makes Matt's chest feel tight and uncomfortable, and he can't quite put his finger on why.

Deciding not to dwell on it for now, he turns back to the stove and concentrates on his cooking. Once everything is ready, he places a plate in front of Lorry with an extra helping of bacon and a slice of buttered toast. "There you go," he says with a small smile, pouring them both some orange juice from the pitcher before sitting down across from him at the table. "Eat up."

For several long moments, neither man speaks as they eat in companionable silence. The sounds of chewing and swallowing fill the air along with occasional sips of orange juice and soft rustling noises as Lorry turns his attention back to watching Matt once more. Despite himself, Matt finds it oddly soothing; the way Lorry seems to find solace in simply observing him. It's almost like... they're a normal couple, sharing breakfast together before one of them heads off to work.

Matt arches an eyebrow, regarding Lorry curiously over the rim of his coffee mug. "I can't help but notice that you seem a bit more interested in her all of a sudden," he says slowly. "What makes this girl so special?" There's no accusation or anger in his tone; only genuine curiosity and... perhaps, just perhaps, a touch of jealousy.

Lorry sighs heavily, looking down at the table. His hands fidget with a napkin, smoothing out nonexistent creases as he tries to find the right words. "She's... nice," he mumbles finally. "We were just talking about our classes and stuff." He pauses for a moment, thinking back on their conversation earlier today.

Matt's eyes narrow at this piece of information, but he doesn't comment further. Instead, he takes another sip of his coffee and simply watches Lorry, waiting for him to continue. He wants to know more about this girl; what it is that makes her so special in Loran's eyes when he hasn't even bothered to try with Matt until now.

"She asked me out for lunch," Lorry says quietly, still fidgeting with the napkin. He trails off, not quite sure how to finish that thought aloud.

Matt sighs heavily as he watches Lorry pull his hoodie over his head, hiding himself away once again. He knows he shouldn't push too hard right now; not after everything that's happened between them tonight. But still... the thought of this girl, whoever she is, capturing Loran's attention so easily fills him with a strange mix of jealousy and possessiveness. It's unlike anything he's ever felt before, and it unsettles him more than he cares to admit.

Deciding that it would probably be best to let Lorry sort out his own feelings for the time being, Matt stands up from the table and goes over to where the younger man is sitting in the hallway. He crouches down beside him, resting a hand on his shoulder briefly before leaning in closer to whisper, "Well, if you're sure that's what you want... I hope she treats you well." There's a strange note of finality in his voice that he doesn't quite understand himself.

Lorry glances up at him for a moment before looking away again, his expression unreadable beneath the shadow of his hood. It leaves Matt feeling oddly uncertain about their arrangement; about everything they've been through tonight and where it leaves them both tomorrow. The thought makes his stomach churn with an uneasy mix of anticipation and dread.

As Lorry disappears into the bustling street, Matt stands there for a moment longer, watching him go with a strange mixture of feelings churning in his gut. There's relief that Loran is finally getting some time away from him, but there's also an overwhelming sense of loss and jealousy that he can't quite shake off. It makes no sense; not after everything they've been through tonight, and yet...

He takes a deep breath, trying to steady his racing thoughts as he turns away from the window. There's work to be done, and Matt needs to focus on that if he wants to keep up this charade much longer. With a determined glare in his eyes, he makes his way over to his computer, sitting down with a soft sigh.

It takes several minutes of staring at the screen before he can bring himself to type anything; hours more until he feels like he's actually accomplished something productive. But even then, the memory of Lorry's face as he left the apartment lingers in the back of his mind, refusing to be ignored or forgotten.

It's going to be a long day.

It's been hours since Lorry left the apartment, and Matt still can't shake the feeling that something isn't quite right. He tries to focus on his work, but his mind keeps wandering back to the younger man; to the oddly disconcerting shift in their dynamic earlier today.

A part of him wants to believe that Lorry will eventually come crawling back, begging for forgiveness and promising to never disobey again. But another, darker voice inside his head tells him that this might be it; the end of whatever twisted game they've been playing all these weeks.

The thought makes his stomach churn with a mixture of anxiety and anger. He can feel himself tensing up as he sits at his desk, his hands clenched into fists so tight that his knuckles turn white. The memory of Lorry's pleading gaze as Matt took him to the edge plays over and over in his mind, taunting him with what he gave up and what he could have done differently.

It's not until several missed phone calls interrupt his thoughts that Matt realizes just how deep he's buried himself in these feelings. With a growl of frustration, he stands up from his desk and strides purposefully over to his personal cell phone. Glancing at the caller ID, he frowns when he sees that it's an unfamiliar number; one he doesn't recognize. There's only one explanation for that.

His stomach drops as realization dawns on him: Lorry must have given this number to someone. And if that's the case, then there's a good chance they already know who he is; where he lives; everything about his life up until now.

Taking a deep breath, Matt answers the

Matt clenches his phone tightly in his hand as he stares at the screen, furious with the woman's cheerful tone through the short conversation. It's bad enough that Lorry gave out some stranger's number; now it's starting to feel like a game to him, and Matt isn't sure how much longer he can play along before he snaps.

Deciding not to wait any longer, he pulls his jacket on and heads straight for the door. Once outside, he hails a taxi, giving them Lorry's address as he bites nervously at his bottom lip. The driver gives him an odd look through the rearview mirror but doesn't comment; just starts the car and pulls into traffic.

As they weave through the bustling city streets, Matt can't help but feel a growing sense of unease in the pit of his stomach. Part of him wants to believe that Lorry will be there waiting for him, apologetic and eager to make amends. The other part knows that things have never been that simple with them; not even before this entire mess started.

The ride seems to take forever, and Matt finds himself checking his watch constantly, growing more and more anxious as the minutes tick by. He wonders if maybe he should have called first... or sent a message directly instead of using an unfamiliar number... so many little details that might have made a difference. But it's too late for second-guessing now; all he can do is hope and pray that Lorry will be there when they arrive.

Finally, the taxi pulls up outside Lorry's building. Matt gets out of the car, paying the driver without a second glance before turning his attention back to the entrance. His heart drops like a stone when he sees that Lorry isn't

Matt's mind whirls with anger and frustration as he speeds away from Lorry's building, his knuckles white on the steering wheel. He tries to focus on finding some clue about where Lorry might have gone; some hint of where he plans to hide next. But all that really fills his thoughts is the image of Lorry's face when he left; the way he seemed so sure that he could just disappear without consequence. It makes Matt's blood boil with rage.

Hours pass as he drives aimlessly through the city, stopping only occasionally to check his phone for any sign of Lorry online or any missed calls from unknown numbers. Each time, he feels a cold knot of dread forming in his stomach when he finds nothing. It's almost as if Lorry has vanished completely; as if he never existed at all.

And yet... there are those occasional glimpses of the older man that slip past Matt's defenses; moments where he catches a flash of red hair or sees a figure that looks like it might be Lorry from the corner of his eye. These fleeting images keep him going, keep him searching relentlessly for any sign of where his prey might have gone to ground.

As the sun begins to set and exhaustion sets in, Matt finds himself back at his apartment; parked outside just as Lorry did earlier today. The irony isn't lost on him as he sits there, staring up at the windows of his own home. It feels almost... poetic. A fitting end to this twisted little dance they've been doing for weeks now.

But it's not an ending that Matt is willing to accept just yet. No matter how tired he is; no matter how many other things he should be doing with his time, there's something

It takes several hours of restless sleep for Matt to finally feel somewhat refreshed. When he finally wakes, the sun is already high in the sky and there's a strange sense of peace that settles over him; almost as if fate itself has decided it's time to play their game again. With renewed vigor, he gets out of bed and begins pacing his small apartment, his mind racing with thoughts of where Lorry could possibly be hiding.

As he moves about the room, his gaze constantly flicks over to the weapons he'd laid out earlier; an assortment of items carefully chosen for their ability to inflict maximum pain and suffering on his target. There's a pair of brass knuckles that would fit perfectly over Lorry's delicate fingers, making him stronger than he actually is while simultaneously leaving terrible bruises in their wake. And then there are the shards of glass from an old lamp; razor-sharp edges designed to tear at flesh and bone with deadly efficiency.

For a moment, Matt hesitates, wondering if maybe he should just forget about all this... move on with his life without Lorry. But even as the thought crosses his mind, he knows it's not an option; not anymore. Something has changed between them over the past few hours; something that made the boundary lines between predator and prey, between hunter and hunted, blur and become indistinct. And now that Matt has tasted the power that comes from being in control... well, there's no going back from it now.

With a sigh, he picks up his phone and begins searching through Lorry's contacts once more; looking for any sign of where he might be hiding or anyone who could possibly know how to find him. It takes several hours of diligent work before Matt finds anything prom

It takes every ounce of self-control Matt possesses not to speed up and tail Lorry's acquaintance; not to risk blowing his cover by drawing too much attention to himself. Instead, he content himself with following at a discreet distance, watching as the other car weaves through the labyrinthine streets of this run-down neighborhood.

There's something almost hypnotic about the way Lorry's friend drives; a casual confidence that belies the danger hidden within these rundown buildings and dimly lit alleys. Matt can feel his heart pounding in his chest as he follows them, every nerve ending tingling with anticipation.

It takes nearly an hour for them to reach their destination: a dilapidated old warehouse on the outskirts of town. The paint is peeling from its once-proud facade, and boarded-up windows offer only hints at what might lie within. But it's obvious that this is where Lorry plans to hide out for now; this must be the person he trusts enough to seek refuge with.

Parking several blocks away, Matt takes a moment to compose himself before getting out of his car. He slips on a pair of dark glasses, adjusting them carefully on his nose as he checks his appearance in the rearview mirror. For all intents and purposes, he looks like any other jaded city dweller making their way through the urban sprawl; just another face in the crowd.

With a deep breath, Matt starts towards the warehouse, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his jacket as he walks casually down the sidewalk. There's no point in rushing now; not until he knows for sure that Lorry is inside and safely out of sight. For all he knows, this could be some elaborate trap designed specifically

It's almost as if Lorry can feel Matt's presence pressing against his back before the door even begins to open; a preternatural sense of danger that shakes him to his core. But it doesn't stop him from trying; not until he realizes that it's useless. The man on the other side of the threshold is faster than he could ever hope to be, and soon enough he finds himself stumbling backwards into the darkened interior of the warehouse with a gasp of surprise.

The figure closes the distance between them in an instant, their face hidden behind a pair of dark glasses that glint eerily in the dim light. There's something vaguely familiar about the way this person moves; the way they hold themselves, but Lorry can't quite put his finger on it. All he knows is that he's terrified and wants nothing more than to get away from them as fast as possible.

As he struggles against the unseen grip on his arm, Lorry glances desperately around the warehouse for some sort of weapon; anything that might give him even the slightest chance at escape. But there's nothing; just stacks of dusty crates and piles of rusted machinery that offer no protection against whatever it is that has cornered him here.

"You shouldn't have run, Loran," the figure says calmly, their voice barely audible above the sound of Lorry's panicked breathing. There's a coldness to their tone that chills Lorry to his very core; an emptiness that he can't help but feel is somehow familiar as well. "It only made things harder on both of us."

Matt laughs darkly as he presses the syringe harder against Lorry's skin, feeling the heat of his breath on its cold metal surface. "Don't bother," he says casually. "Nobody will hear you out here." He pushes Lorry roughly against one of the nearby crates, forcing him to bend over and giving Matt more leverage. The younger man gasps in pain as his wrists are pinned even tighter behind him, but Matt pays no mind; he's too focused on what he's about to do.

"You know why I did all of this?" Matt asks conversationally, slowly withdrawing the syringe from his pocket. Lorry merely whimpers in reply, unable or unwilling to speak past the terror that grips him so tightly. "I did it because I wanted you," Matt continues, eyes intent on his captive's face as he holds the syringe up before them both, giving Lorry a clear view of what it is he has planned for him tonight.

With a savage thrust, he pushes the needle into Loran's flesh; feeling the cold liquid rush through his veins and spread its numbing effect almost instantly. A cruel smile curls Matt's lips as he watches Lorry's body begin to go slack beneath him, the drugs taking hold. "And now that I have you," he whispers into the younger man's ear, "I think it's time we had a little talk."

The last thing Lorry remembers is the feel of Matt's hot breath against his neck before everything fades to black.

Matt carefully carries Lorry's limp body into his apartment, grinning darkly as he imagines the fear that must have surged through his lover when he felt the needle pierce his skin. The sight of him lying there; helpless and unaware of what comes next, only serves to fuel Matt's inner fire all the more. He can feel the adrenaline coursing through his veins as he steps into the living room and places Lorry on the couch, arranging him so that he's lying facedown.

Grabbing a bowl of water from the kitchen counter, Matt returns to the couch and begins dousing Lorry with it; pouring the cold liquid over his back, neck, and hair in quick, methodical strokes. The boy's body jerks reflexively as the water hits him, but his continued unconsciousness only serves to heighten Matt's sense of dominance over the situation. When Lorry finally begins to stir from the cold shock, Matt is there; a cruel smile curling his lips as he leans in close enough that their breath mingles together.

"Welcome back," he whispers, feeling the heat from his own breath tickle against Lorry's earlobe. "I've missed you." The younger man whimpers softly in reply, trying futilely to twist away from Matt's gaze. It only serves to excite him further; the thought of being wanted and needed by this beautiful creature once more driving him to new heights of desire.

Slowly, carefully, he removes Lorry's arm from behind his back, feeling the other man's muscles tense in protest at the sudden movement. "There," he says softly, rubbing soothing circles into Lorry's

As Matt's fingers caress Lorry's cheek, he feels a shudder run through the younger man's body; the slightest tremor of anticipation and fear mixed into one unidentifiable emotion. It only serves to inflame him further, sending a hot rush of blood coursing through his veins as he presses the taser harder against Lorry's neck.

"Let this be a lesson," he growls, feeling his own anger begin to rise with every passing second that Lorry remains limp and passive beneath him. "You do not get to choose when I touch you, or how it feels. You are mine now." His voice drops into a soft whisper as he pulls the trigger on the taser, letting the electric current flow through Lorry's body in a searing, white-hot wave of pain that makes his muscles convulse and his limbs spasm uncontrollably.

It only lasts for a few seconds before the current dies away, but the aftershocks linger; a tingling sensation dancing across Lorry's skin as his nerves begin to repair themselves. As he gasps for air and tries desperately to regain control over his battered body, Matt stands back and watches with an almost clinical detachment. There's something primal about seeing someone in such a vulnerable state; about being the one who can make them feel so much pain... It thrills him beyond words.

Lorry's body tenses in anticipation of the searing pain as Matt once again brings the taser up to his neck. His eyes dart desperately around the room, searching for any means of escape, but it's clear that there isn't one; not from this cold-hearted monster who seems determined to torment him for sport.

There's a momentary pause before the trigger is pulled, long enough for Lorry to steel himself against whatever agony Matt intends to inflict upon him this time. But it doesn't make it any less excruciating when the current finally arcs through his body; burning like fire across every inch of skin it touches. His muscles contract violently, throwing him onto his side as he convulses uncontrollably on the couch. He tries to scream, but all that comes out is a hoarse, broken gasp that tears at his throat.

When finally the taser falls silent once more, Lorry lies panting and shaking on the floor; his entire world reduced to nothing more than the hot pain coursing through him and the hateful presence of the man standing over him. He turns his head slowly toward Matt, searching the other's face for some sign of mercy or sanity, but finds neither. Instead, he sees only a cruel smile that chills him deeper than any frost ever could.

"Now," Matt says softly, his voice barely above a whisper despite the anger and lust still burning bright behind his eyes, "let's have some fun." He strides purposefully toward Lorry, ignoring the way the younger man curls protectively into himself at the approach. In his mind, there is only one destination now; only one thing that will satisfy the need that burns within him like wildfire.

He kneels

As Matt's words wash over him like a torrent of acid, Lorry feels his entire world crumbling around him; reduced to dust and ash beneath the weight of this man's hate. The hurt in his eyes deepens with every slap that connects with his cheek, each blow driving another nail into the coffin of whatever shreds of self-worth he once possessed. It feels like there is no bottom to this abyss; no limit to Matt's cruelty or his seemingly endless desire for pain and suffering.

He forces himself to listen as Matt rambles on, describing in gruesome detail how much Lorry has failed him and why none of it can ever be undone. It feels like a knife twisting in his gut with every word; each cut deeper and more agonizing than the last. And through it all, there's an emptiness that radiates from Matt like a dark sun; an absence of anything resembling human emotion that chills Lorry to his core.

As he listens helplessly, Lorry begins to understand that whatever game they were playing before has long since ended; replaced by something far more sinister and brutal. There is no winning this time; only surviving until the bitter end... if that's even an option. The thought unsettles him deeply, filling his mind with awful possibilities and images he'd rather not consider.

It's a blessing, then, when Matt finally turns away from him; searching through the cupboard for something to use against him next. Lorry takes advantage of the momentary reprieve, gathering his strength and focusing on maintaining control over his breathing. His body feels bruised and battered from Matt's earlier assaults, but he knows it could be much worse... at least for now.

There's an odd sort of calm that descends over Matt as he sees the fear in Lorry's eyes; a cold, cruel satisfaction that washes away any lingering doubts or second thoughts about what he's doing. It feels right; it feels good... almost like coming home after being lost at sea for far too long.

He stalks forward slowly, carefully measuring the distance between them as if this were some kind of twisted dance; a macabre waltz in which each step brings Lorry closer to his inevitable fate. The younger man curls himself into a tight ball on the floor, eyes squeezed shut and hands pressed protectively over his ears as if that might somehow block out the terrible things Matt is saying and the even worse things he plans to do.

It's almost endearing, in a sick sort of way; this display of helplessness and fear. It reminds Matt of all the times when Lorry was so willful and strong; defiant and unyielding despite the endless torment he inflicted upon him then. The contrast is striking, and it only serves to heighten his arousal as he raises the weapon above his head, preparing to deliver the first crushing blow.

"This," Matt says with a soft sigh, "is for running away." His arm snaps forward, the heavy object slamming into Lorry's side with enough force to send him sprawling across the floor on a cough of agony.

Lorry's world fades in and out of focus as he struggles to breathe between each agonizing impact; his body wracked with pain and his mind reeling from the onslaught of sensory overload. The cold, hard surface of the wall bites into his back as Matt slams him against it, his grip like a vise around Lorry's throat. It's almost enough to choke off whatever air he can still manage to draw in through his tattered lungs.

The younger man tries desperately to make some sort of sound; to beg for mercy or even just to let him die, but all that comes out is a pathetic whimper that carries no weight and holds no power. The hopelessness that washes over him in those moments feels like it might actually be worse than the pain; more crippling and debilitating than any wound he's ever suffered before.

Tears well up in his eyes, blurring his vision further as he gazes helplessly at Matt through a haze of anguish and terror. The hatred he once felt for this man seems distant now; insignificant compared to the crushing weight of despair that presses down upon him from all sides. It feels like there's no fight left in him, no strength with which to resist any longer...

And maybe that's what Matt wants. Maybe this is his ultimate victory: not just the brutalization and degradation of Lorry's body, but the complete submission of his mind; the total destruction of whatever tiny shred of self-worth remained intact beneath all of his torment.

Lorry's world goes black as his back collides with the hardwood floor; pain radiating outward in a sickening wave of agony from the impact. He tries to curl into himself, protecting his most vital organs from whatever blow might come next, but it's useless; there's no hiding from Matt now, no escape from the relentless torment that seems intent on crushing every last shred of hope and dignity out of him.

As he lies there gasping for air, he feels something cold and sharp press against his throat. It's only then that he realizes what Matt is holding; a knife. The memory of how easily he was thrown aside like trash moments ago sends a fresh wave of panic coursing through him, and his struggles to break free from Matt's iron grip grow desperate and frantic.

"Look at yourself!" Matt snarls, his voice harsh and raw as sandpaper against Lorry's bruised and battered flesh. There's something almost accusatory in the tone; a sense that this knife isn't just a weapon for inflicting pain anymore, but also a tool for forcing some sort of twisted revelation from its victim. "Look at what you've become!"

Lorry doesn't know how to respond; doesn't even understand the question that seems to hang in the air between them. All he knows is fear; an all-encompassing terror that leaves him feeling hollowed out and empty, like there's nothing left of him at all. His vision begins to darken at the edges, his breath coming in short gasps that hurt with every intake.

Matt's words are like poisoned darts, each one striking deeper and more painfully than the last; an unrelenting assault on Lorry's already battered emotions. He feels the younger man's hand fumbling weakly at his side, searching for something - anything - to use against him in this hopeless battle. His own heart aches with bitter satisfaction as he realizes that it might just be the taser; a symbol of all the pain and suffering he's inflicted upon Lorry over the years.

The knife presses harder against his throat, drawing a thin line of blood that trickles down between his collarbone and chest. "You never deserved any affection," Matt growls, leaning in close enough that their hot breath mingles together once more. "Not from me...not from anyone." His hand grips the hilt of the knife tighter as Lorry's frantic pleas wash over him, mixing with his own dark desires until they become a sick symphony of pain and suffering.

"Please," Lorry whispers, his voice barely audible above the pounding of blood in his ears. "Don't...please." Tears streak down his cheeks as he stares up at Matt, pleading silently for understanding or mercy. But there is nothing; no emotion to be found behind those cold, unfeeling eyes save for a terrible, consuming rage that feeds the fire burning deep within him.

The pressure of the knife increases once more, pushing harder against Lorry's throat until he feels as if his windpipe might give way at any moment. His vision begins to cloud at the edges; dark spots dancing across his field of view like malignant shadows cast by an inner death that has finally come

Lorry feels as if he's on the edge of a precipice; teetering blindly toward an unknown fate that might very well lead to his death. The weight of Matt's stare is like a physical presence in the room, pressing down upon him with an almost tangible force that threatens to crush every last shred of resistance from his body and mind. He can feel himself trembling uncontrollably beneath that gaze; each shallow breath he takes rasping harshly through his ravaged throat and damaged lungs.

As he cowers in the corner of the kitchen, Lorry watches helplessly as Matt approaches; an aura of barely contained rage emanating from him like steam from a kettle brought to boil. There's something almost predatory about his movements now; a predator that has been pushed too far and is ready to exact its final, brutal revenge upon its wounded prey.

Lorry tries desperately to steady his voice as he speaks, but it comes out hoarse and broken; little more than a whimper of surrender beneath the weight of Matt's inexorable advance. "Please... don't kill me..." he whispers, raising pleading eyes toward the man towering over him. "I didn't mean to hurt you... I just wanted it to stop."

Lorry gasps and coughs violently as the contents of his stomach spew forth in a putrid torrent across the kitchen floor; sharp pains shooting up through his abdomen with every convulsive heave. Matt stands before him, watching impassively as his victim writhes on the ground; a look of cold satisfaction settling over his features like a shadow cast by some malevolent force. He wipes his hand against his trousers absently, seemingly unconcerned with the fact that he's just rendered Lorry even more vulnerable and nauseated than before.

"Do you understand now?" Matt asks, his voice devoid of any emotion save for a thinly veiled disgust. "You thought you could just run away from me... leave me behind like some worthless piece of trash? You never deserved my affection... my love." His expression hardens as he speaks; the words seeming to cut deeper with every syllable that passes his lips. "No, now you belong to me... body and soul. And I'm going to make sure you understand that for the rest of your miserable little life."

He steps closer still, a predatory gleam in his eye as he studies Lorry's battered form like some twisted artist admiring his latest masterpiece. "I've only just begun... there are so many more things I want to do to you... things you never could have even imagined." A shiver runs down Lorry's spine at the dark promise implicit in those words; a sense that whatever horrors Matt might yet inflict upon him, they will be far beyond anything he could possibly have endured thus far.

Without another word, Matt roughly grabs Lorry by the arm and drags him across the floor toward the living room

Lorry whimpers softly, huddled on the floor as if he might somehow become invisible if he curls up small enough. The thought of being touched again - much less cut with scissors - fills him with an overwhelming sense of terror that makes his limbs tremble uncontrollably and his stomach twist into knots. He watches helplessly as Matt approaches, the glinting blades held aloft in one powerful hand.

"I can't," he whispers brokenly, shaking his head from side to side. "Please... I'm sorry, Matt. Just let me go." The pleading note in his voice only seems to enrage the older man further; a cold, hard expression settling over his features as he advances on Lorry with purposeful strides.

"No," Matt snarls, "you don't get to decide when you're sorry anymore." He leans down close, so near that Lorry can feel the warmth of his breath against his cheek. "You never got to decide anything about us... about what we were and who we are now. All that is in my hands now... everything." With a swift motion, he roughly pushes Lorry's head back, exposing the tender skin at the base of his skull. The cold steel presses against him; a warning more than anything else. "And I want you to know that whatever pain I inflict upon you from here on out... it's nothing compared to what you deserve."

It's almost like Lorry can feel the anger seething beneath Matt's calm exterior; a tightly coiled spring waiting for the slightest provocation to unleash its terrible power upon him once more. He watches warily as his tormentor carefully positions his head, the scissors poised just above his scalp like some malevolent insect readying to feast on its prey.

"You don't understand," Matt growls through gritted teeth, struggling to maintain control amidst Lorry's renewed resistance. "This isn't about your hair... it's about who you belong to now." His grip tightens painfully on a fistful of hair as he speaks; the words seeming to echo ominously through the room, resonating with a terrible truth that Lorry knows deep down in his soul.

Lorry's world reels and spins as he struggles to breathe; pain radiating outward from his abused throat like tendrils of fire licking at his windpipe. He feels the air being cut off, suffocation fast approaching as Matt's iron grip tightens mercilessly around his neck. His vision blurs and darkens at the edges, black spots dancing before his eyes like ghosts summoned by a malevolent force intent on dragging him down into oblivion.

"You used to be so beautiful..." Matt's voice echoes through the room, its mocking cadence making Lorry flinch and writhe beneath that icy grasp. "Now... you're just pathetic. Just another waste of my time... just another worthless piece of flesh." The hand around his throat squeezes harder, each punishing thrust driving fresh agony through Lorry's body like a thousand tiny knives.

Lorry tries to claw at Matt's arm, but he's too weak; too battered and exhausted from everything that's happened. He can only watch helplessly as the world begins to fade away, darkness closing in around him like a curtain falling on a tragic play.

Lorry lies facedown on the wooden table, his body racked with spasms as he struggles to breathe. Each shallow gasp draws precious air into his lungs, only to have it vanish just as quickly; leaving him feeling more helpless and alone than ever before. He tries to fight back, but every muscle in his body feels weak and feeble compared to the iron will of his tormentor.

Matt stands over him, his expression hardening into a mask of disgust. There's no tenderness in his touch as he roughly pushes Lorry's legs apart; only cruelty and malice. With one calloused hand, he grabs the back of Lorry's neck, forcing him to arch his back painfully as he begins to molest him.

"You used to be so perfect," Matt moans, his voice ragged and raw. "So beautiful... But now... you're just a piece of filth... nothing more than my personal garbage can."

Lorry screams out in agony as Matt's cock brutally impales him, his body jolting in shock at the sudden intrusion. He can feel every vein and muscle tearing under the onslaught; blood gushing down his thighs to mingle with the mess of saliva and tears already staining the wood beneath him. The pain is unlike anything he's ever experienced before; an all-consuming agony that seems to crawl through every fiber of his being, stripping away what little remains of his dignity and humanity with each thrust

As Lorry's consciousness begins to drift away under the onslaught of pain and fatigue, Matt feels a strange mix of satisfaction and disgust welling up inside him. On the one hand, he's getting exactly what he wants; total control over the person who once meant everything to him. On the other hand, there's something fundamentally wrong about reducing Lorry to this; a pathetic shell of his former self, a broken and abused toy at his mercy.

Despite himself, Matt finds it difficult to maintain his anger as he feels Lorry's body growing limp beneath him. A twinge of guilt touches him deep inside; not for what he's done, but because in that moment he almost forgets why he's doing it. As the last vestiges of consciousness slip from Lorry's eyes and his limbs go lax, Matt feels a strange yearning welling up within him; an urge to apologize, to comfort, perhaps even to love.

But that's not who he is anymore. Not now, not ever again. He pushes the unwelcome emotions aside as best he can and continues to savage Lorry's body, determined to make him pay for every single moment of happiness they once shared. His grunts become louder; less animalistic and more desperate, a plea to find some semblance of satisfaction in this twisted charade of love.

As Matt turns away from the grisly scene before him, his mind reels with conflicting emotions. He's just taken Lorry in the most brutal and degrading way possible, reduced him to nothing more than a battered and bloody mess sprawled across the table like some discarded plaything. And yet... there's still something there; an ember of what they once shared glowing faintly beneath all the ashes.

He can't quite put his finger on it, but he knows that this isn't right. This isn't how things are supposed to be. Maybe Lorry wasn't meant for him after all... maybe he should just let him go. The thought fills him with an almost physical pain; a sharp stab in the heart that makes it difficult to breathe, difficult to think straight.

And yet... he can't bring himself to let go quite yet. He feels a strange compulsion to keep Lorry close; to watch over him, to make sure he's always there when Matt needs him. It's twisted and sickening, but it's all he has left of the love they once shared.

With a heavy sigh, he follows his instincts back into the room where Loran lies shivering on the table. His gaze falls upon Lorry's injured body, torn and bloodied from their encounter, and something inside him snaps. In one swift motion, he scoops up Lorry in his arms and carries him away; retreating to a darkened corner of the room where they can be alone together.

As Lorry whimpers softly against Matt's shoulder, trying desperately to make sense of the world spinning around him, Matt finds himself murmuring soothing words he never thought he would utter; whispering apologies and promises that echo h

Matt's heart skips a beat as he watches Lorry's body convulse violently, the foam forming white flakes at the corners of his lips.

Matt carefully positions Lorry's body in his lap, tenderly wiping the saliva and foam from his lips with a damp cloth. The cool air against Loran's skin seems to have some effect; he quietens somewhat as Matt takes stock of their surroundings. As he rifles through the aid kit once more, Matt begins to mutter under his breath:

"Calm down, just breathe..." His fingers shake slightly as he fishes out a small vial containing what looks like clear liquid; the label marked with a 'D' in unsteady handwriting. He fumbles with the cap for a moment before finally succeeding in unscrewing it and carefully pouring its contents into Lorry's mouth, supporting his head gently as he does so.

"This will help," Matt whispers, his voice laced with worry. "It should make you feel better." He takes another long look at Lorry's pale face, the pain etched deeply into every feature. It's a far cry from the days when this was the image that haunted him; filled his dreams and waking thoughts with desire and longing. Now it's nothing more than a reminder of what he's become: a twisted shadow of his former self, a monster barely recognizable as human.

As Lorry drifts in and out of consciousness, Matt finds himself lost in thought once more; the events of the past few hours replaying like a broken record in his mind. His feelings toward Loran are as jumbled and confused as ever; one moment filled with an almost overwhelming tenderness, the next consumed by rage and self-loathing.

He can't deny that he enjoys having Lorry at his mercy; the power trip is intoxicating in a way he hasn't experienced since before everything went wrong between them. But there's also something about it all that leaves him feeling hollow inside, like he's not quite fulfilling some vital part of himself by being this cruel. It's an uncomfortable realization; one that nags at him every time he looks into Lorry's eyes and sees the fear and hurt etched into his expression.

Matt shifts Lorry slightly, wincing as he accidentally brushes against one of his many injuries. He winces, cursing himself for being so rough with him. Despite everything, he still wants to make sure Loran is okay; that he's not causing any more harm than he already has. Maybe... maybe there's some way they can go back to how they were before all this mess started?

He shakes his head, trying to dislodge the thought from his mind. It's too late for that now. He's gone down this path and there's no turning back. But at least... maybe he could try to make things better from here on out. Not perfect; nothing like they were before ever again. But just... a little bit easier on him, you know?

Carefully picking up the medical supplies once more, Matt begins to tend to Lorry's wounds with

As he begins to clean and dress Lorry's wounds with practiced efficiency, Matt can't help but marvel at the bruises and cuts that adorn his victim's body. They stand out vividly against the pale expanse of his skin like colorful flowers growing from the petals of a grave; dark and twisted reminders of the passionate fury that once consumed him. Even in this state, Lorry is still achingly beautiful; a testament to the hold he once had over Matt's heart and mind.

But as he tenderly wipes away the blood and dirt from Loran's cheek, brushing his fingers against soft skin that feels surprisingly warm despite its unconscious state, a pang of guilt washes over him. He forces himself to focus on cleaning the injuries as he thinks about what to do next. Should he let Lorry rest like this for now? Or should he try and talk to him; apologize maybe?

No... that wouldn't be right. Not yet, at least. There are still some things Matt needs to sort out in his own head first; some demons he needs to exorcise before he can even begin to think about forgiveness or redemption. So for now, he'll just watch over Lorry as he sleeps; make sure he doesn't hurt him any more than he already has.

Carefully positioning a pillow under Lorry's head to support it comfortably, Matt takes a step back and looks at his former lover thoughtfully. There's still so much about this situation that doesn't make sense; the twisted mix of love and hate that seems to permeate every moment they share now. Maybe if he can figure out why exactly Lorry means so much to him, then maybe... just maybe...

As Matt takes pictures of Lorry in various stages of undress and injury, his heart begins to race with a strange mixture of emotions. On the one hand, there's an almost animalistic desire to possess and control him; to claim him as his own no matter the cost. But on the other hand, there's a tenderness there; a vulnerability that tugs at something deep within Matt's chest, threatening to unravel the carefully constructed facade he's spent years constructing.

He knows it shouldn't be this way. Lorry isn't supposed to affect him like this anymore. Not after all they've been through; not after everything that happened between them. And yet... here he is, unable to resist the pull of their shared history; unable to deny the love and affection that still linger beneath the surface of his hatred and anger.

As Lorry stirs in his sleep, making soft little noises of discomfort, Matt finds himself moving closer once more. He gently brushes a lock of hair from Loran's forehead, marveling at how soft it feels against his fingertips.

As Lorry continues to stir restlessly in his sleep, Matt can feel the tension within him building; a palpable desire that threatens to overwhelm everything he's ever felt before. It's unnerving, this newfound passion; fierce and urgent in a way that makes it impossible for him to ignore.

Slowly, almost unwillingly, his hands begin to move of their own accord; skimming gently across Lorry's chest, tracing soft lines down his stomach and between his legs. He feels warmth spread through him as he presses against Loran's back, wrapping his arms around him in a loose embrace that seems more about comfort than anything else.

Lorry moans softly into the pillow as Matt's hands continue their exploration; tracing patterns over his skin with a tenderness that is almost achingly sweet. Matt closes his eyes, feeling himself grow harder and more desperate for contact with Lorry's body. The urge to take what he wants, to claim him completely once more, grows stronger with every passing second.

But even as the instincts within him claw and scratch at the surface of his sanity, another voice whispers softly in his ear; a faint reminder of everything that led them here. It's not supposed to be like this anymore. They've gone too far down this path already; their relationship irreparably damaged beyond all recognition. And yet... despite himself, he can't seem to help but wonder what it might feel like to try and go back.

As Matt lies there, holding Lorry close and kissing him gently on the bruised and swollen cheek, a strange sensation washes over him; an almost aching sense of longing that leaves him breathless and confused. He tries to push it away, telling himself that it's just because they used to be so close; that Lorry means something special to him. But even as he tells himself these things, he can feel the truth of it deep down inside; a tiny spark of emotion that refuses to die despite everything they've been through.

He kisses Lorry's forehead, his temple, trailing soft pecks along the column of his neck and down onto his chest. The feeling is intoxicating; warm and comforting in a way that he hasn't experienced in a long time. It makes him want to close his eyes and block out everything else around them; pretend like nothing ever happened; that they can go back to being the happy couple they once were.

But even as he tries to convince himself of this, he knows it's not possible. The damage is done; there's no going back from the things they've said and done to each other. And yet... somehow, amidst all the pain and confusion, there's a small part of him that wonders if maybe... just maybe... it wouldn't be so bad if they could try. If they could find some way to start over; to forgive each other and move on from this dark place where they currently exist.

He shifts slightly, nestling his face into the crook of Lorry's neck and inhaling deeply; taking in the familiar scent of his skin and hair. It calms him somehow; grounds him in a reality that seems all too easy to lose sight of when he lets himself dwell on the past. Maybe...

As the alarm blares obnoxiously in Matt's ear, he jumps out of bed and hurriedly switches it off; a wave of guilt washing over him as he thinks about how much discomfort Lorry must be feeling with all that noise. Gently nudging his way through the door to the bedroom, he takes in the sight of Lorry sprawled across his unmade bed, the handcuff dangling idly from one ankle. A pang of possessiveness wells up inside him as he sees this reminder of their tumultuous past; of how far they've both come since then and how much further they still have to go before they can find any sort of resolution.

Carefully, almost reverently, Matt picks his way across the room toward the bed; kneeling beside it with a heavy sigh. It takes all his self-control not to just climb in next to Lorry and hold him close; to bury his face in the crook of Loran's neck and breathe in the scent that has become so inextricably tied to the man he loves, despite everything. Instead, he gently runs his hand through Lorry's messy hair, smoothing it back from his forehead and tilting his head up with a gentle touch.

"Hey there, puppet," he whispers softly, "I'm just going to take this off so you can have some peace and quiet." He leans in close, brushing his lips against Lorry's bruised skin; savoring the feeling of their bodies pressed together even though he knows it shouldn't mean anything right now. It's a fragile moment; one that could easily spin out of control if either of them aren't careful. But for now, as they sit here together in this

As Alice leans in closer to inspect the pictures on Matt's phone, her expression shifts from feigned concern to genuine shock and horror as she takes in the images of Lorry's battered face and bruised body. "Oh my God," she whispers, hands flying up to cover her mouth as if she could block out the sight before her. "That's terrible! I can't believe anyone would do that to someone so young and innocent."

Matt shrugs uncomfortably, his attention divided between maintaining the lie and trying not to appear too interested in Alice's reaction to Lorry's injuries. "Yeah, well... things like that happen sometimes, I guess," he mutters, looking back down at his phone as if studying something else entirely. He can feel her gaze burning a hole through the back of his skull and curses himself for lying so poorly.

The rest of the day drags on endlessly; each moment bringing with it a fresh wave of guilt over how easily he's letting Alice manipulate him into talking about Lorry. And yet, at the same time, there's something oddly comforting about having someone to confide in; even if that someone is as annoying and insistent as Alice. Maybe once everything with Lorry is settled, Matt can find a way to tell her the truth without making things any worse between them.

As five o'clock finally rolls around and he makes his escape from work, Matt can't help but wonder what he'll find when he gets home tonight. Will Loran be asleep? Will there be any signs that their recent fight has affected him more deeply than expected? With every passing moment, the urge to see Lorry grows stronger; to hold him and reassure himself that everything will eventually work out.

The drive home

As Matt takes in the sight of Lorry curled up on his bed; eyes red and puffy from tears, body tense with fear, he feels a sharp pang of guilt stab at his heart. He hadn't meant to make him so scared or hurt him so badly. Despite everything that's happened between them, Lorry still means more to Matt than anything else in the world; and seeing him like this brings home just how far he's let things spiral out of control.

Without saying a word, he quietly crosses the room and kneels beside the bed, gently placing a hand on Loran's shoulder. The boy flinches at the contact but doesn't pull away; and it's this small sign of trust that begins to melt Matt's resolve like ice in sunlight. He runs his thumb over Lorry's bruised skin, tracing gentle circles around the knobby bones of Loran's spine.

"Hey there," he whispers softly, "it's okay, you're safe now." There's a tremor in his voice that belies the confidence in his words; but Lorry seems to relax slightly at the sound of it nonetheless. Slowly, carefully, Matt pulls Loran into a loose embrace; one hand resting on his back and the other cupping his cheek. "I'm sorry, baby," he whispers, pressing their foreheads together. "I didn't mean to scare you like that."

For several long moments they sit there, locked in this tentative embrace; Matt rocking Lorry gently back and forth as he tries to soothe away the fear and pain with his touch. It's an awkward dance of comfort and control, dominance and submission; a tangled mess of

Matt's heart aches at the sound of Lorry's tears; their sharp, jagged sobs wracking his body and tearing through his chest like a thousand tiny knives. His first instinct is to pull the younger man close again; to hold him tight and whisper soothing words until he stops crying. But even as the urge grows stronger, he finds himself hesitating; unable to shake the fear that maybe this time it would only make things worse.

Instead, he settles for gently brushing a lock of hair from Lorry's face; stroking his cheek with the back of his hand in a soft, soothing caress. "Hey," he whispers, voice thick with unshed tears, "it's okay... I'm not going to hurt you." His words come out hollow and empty, barely more than a whisper; but even so, they seem to have some effect on Lorry. The sobs begin to die down a little at a time, the desperation in his cries replaced by shuddering gasps as he struggles to catch his breath.

Slowly, carefully, Matt lowers himself down onto the bed beside Lorry; propping himself up on one elbow so that they're facing each other. "I'm sorry," he repeats hoarsely. "I didn't mean for any of this to happen... I just wanted things to be good between us again." Tears begin to well up in his own eyes now, spilling silently down his cheeks and mixing with Lorry's salty tears on his skin.

Lorry wipes roughly at his face, sniffling as he tries to compose himself. "It doesn't matter," he manages to croak after a few moments. "I deserved it

Matt's heart twists painfully in his chest as he watches Lorry struggle to compose himself, hugging his shoulders and shivering from the memory of how easily it seemed for Matt to overpower him. It's a gut-wrenching reminder of just how far they've come since the days when Loran was nothing more than a puppet on a string; an empty shell for Matt to control. But somehow, in this moment, with Lorry so visibly hurt and broken before him, it feels like they're back at square one again.

He swallows thickly, wiping his cheeks clear of tears as he carefully reaches out a hand to stroke Lorry's hair. The younger man flinches but doesn't pull away; instead, he leans into the touch with a small, shaky sigh. "You didn't deserve any of it," Matt whispers hoarsely. "Not the things I said or the way I treated you... none of it."

For several long moments, they sit there in silence; the air between them thick with unspoken words and buried emotions. It feels almost palpable; as if it could choke either one of them at any moment if they weren't careful. But despite this, neither of them seem able to bring themselves to say anything more; to break the fragile spell that hangs between them like a spiderweb, strong enough to support their weight but so delicate that even the slightest breath might send it all crashing down around them.