heroeswork | Walk, come with me now, I'm gonna take you down

Mike is smart. Mike is very, very smart and able to do a lot of things. He can play the Crowders against the Bennetts against the cops in Kentucky easily, he can swiftly dodge Briggs looking for him, and he can collect money from everyone all the while.

Shit, he'd even gotten a fucking deputy US marshal hooked. That's half the reason he's here, the other half being that in order to get him hooked--in order to get Billy hooked--means he'd run out. Misery loves company and Mike needs to drag people down to his level in order to enjoy himself. That, and he's insatiable nowadays. He blames that on Billy.

Come to think of it, Tim's little spy friend looked an awful lot like Mikes hookup. But he chalks that up to himself being completely obliterated, and climbs into the truck.

There's no duct tape this time, and that's probably because Mike's not resisting. Hell, he's not talking, either. If Billy wants it quiet, he wants it quiet, and Mike knows that by now. The house is new but not surprising, either, and Mike rubs at his face.

Finally, he breaks the silence. Billys' grabbing a drink and Mike's leaning on the door frame, arms crossed, beanie covering his usual mess of greasy hair as he decides to speak. He also knows better not to try to outplay Billy like he can everyone else.

"So, uh--I was wondering if you had any more stuff."

First thing's first. He presses his lips into a thin line, watching the other carefully.

Liam took his time getting his beer open, and he didn't have one to offer Mike. It wasn't for a lack of beverages, the fridge was stocked. But rather offering such a thing would be some sort of signal that they were any way on the same level. He did toy with the idea of offering it, then putting it in a bowl on the floor. Just to show how he still thought of the junkie.

"Is that the real reason you're here?" Confident. Smooth. Arrogant.

He leaned his shoulder against the wall, one hand in his pocket, sipping his beer. The only light was from the kitchen behind him, keeping him back lit. It would have been rather dark in the rest of the house, if not for the street lights outside. Still, it cast deep, dark shadows across everything.

He wondered if Mike knew just how dangerous it was to be here. How risky it was to have been shown where Liam lived. Would he tread carefully or blunder through it?

"Yes," Mike answers automatically, and for a split second he wonders if it's because he's an obedient plaything like Liam wanted all along. The thought only lasts for a second, because he shakes his head.

"No," He states truthfully, keeping his voice level. Liam is silhouetted and all Mike thinks is that it would be pretty if it weren't for the person behind it. There's a metaphor in here, being in Liam's shadow. Especially with what he wants.

What he wants is Billy and Tim and whips and chains and cuffs and control and fun, the same kind Liam has showed him over and over again. It took him a while to appreciate it--sometimes he's not sure he does--but at the end? There's a weird part of him that's thankful.

He needs to keep his mind clear. Carefully--and slowly, so as no to disturb Liam--he takes a pack of cigarettes out from the front of his jeans.

"The sort of things you do, I don't know anyone else who does it," he says carefully. He taps the pack to let the tobacco settle and pulls one of them out with his mouth, digging for his lighter as he talks. "Your things, too. It's a huge collection."

Liam stepped forward, reaching into his pocket as Mike dug in his own. The question Mike asked was really quite broad. It could apply to a number of things. Of course, he knew exactly what was being implied, and he could barely contain the wicked smile that wanted to stretch over his face.

He'd managed to not only get Mike to respond to their little games, but to embrace the overall methods. Leather and ropes and toys could produce so much more pleasure than anyone thought. And pleasure was just such a wonderful teaching method.

He, of course, wanted Mike to say it outright. He would not tolerate him evading it. So he pulled out his lighter and flared it to life, offering it to Mike. At the same time he put on his most convincing mask of confusion. "You mean you want something other than Oxy?"

"I need the oxy." That comes out way too fast, way too rushed, so Mike busies himself with leaning in and lighting the cigarette. He's not surprised Liam has a lighter. He's not sure he's ever smoked in front of the other--it's a rare sight--but he's glad. He takes a pull and blows smoke away from Billy's face, buying him time to phrase it properly.

Besides, Liam was confused. That's what he told himself--Liam was just confused and wants clarification. This can't be a mind game. They're past those, now.

Right?

"I meant your kinky stuff," he finally admits. "There's ways to sterilize it--I've seen you do it. I want to know if I could use it." That was easier than he thought.

Then again, Liam is anything but. Mike watches him carefully.

It took all Liam had to not laugh at the request as he slipped the lighter back into his pocket. Mike wanted to borrow his toys. With anyone else, he would have worried it was some heavy-handed attempt to gather evidence. Match the weapon to the wound pattern, in a way. But he'd kept Mike for far too long and not left enough marks on him for that to be possible.

"I take it you've never heard of Amazon," Liam said with a faint laugh in his voice. "Or...any other various and scandalous websites."

He brought his beer back up for another sip, but stopped. Something ticking over in his mind. Trying to see the angle that Mike had here. He was a resourceful man. Of course he'd know other ways of getting such things. Was it that he'd grown attached to these specific items? Or was it something else?

"Tell you want," he added. "You tell me what, or rather who, these are intended for, and I'll let you have your pick." He was starting to wonder if maybe Mike had been pushed further than he'd first thought. Wanting to relive some of what he'd felt before, some twisted attempt to inflict it upon himself. Now there was a thought to get Liam riled.

He has. He has and he knows better to talk back to Liam but he does shoot a glare in the other's direction. Of course he knows about amazon, and of course he knows about all of that shit. That wasn't the point, though.

Mike's never been into art or any of that poetic justice shit. He thinks it's crap and if he weren't tripping at the moment he'd probably have walked out and said never mind, took his chances and cabbed home (not that he has the cash).

But Liam is Liam and Mike isn't sure he knows what to do without the other anymore. Liam provides him with what he needs--surely, this, too? He's the only person he knows of like this.

Mike is quiet for what seems to him like a very, very long time. Eventually, though, he opens his mouth to speak. He mumbles something, inaudible, and his gaze drops to the floor. He doesn't really want Liam to know.

He wants to keep Tim for himself. He wants to be as possessive of Tim as possible, especially after seeing Tim and Billy the other night. How they clung to each other, threesome or not. There was something special there.

Part of Mike hopes that doing something like this will help him get that same response from him.

Liam would gladly explain that such adoration between two people could not be achieved this way. That he found it sappy and flimsy at best. Find the pressure points and it all fell apart. But what he and Mike had, what he'd instilled in the junkie, that was much harder to break. When you broke someone down so completely and built them back up, it made for far stronger bonds than those formed of two people simply crashing together. Better yet, it could be consciously created where the other could only happen by chance.

Instead of getting an answer from Mike, however, he only gets a glare. A spark of defiance still lurking deep inside the man. Something that intrigued Liam because no matter how hard he'd tried he couldn't wipe it out. It made him wonder about what Mike could have been if he'd had a better start. If the drugs had never happened. It also makes him wonder just what this person means to Mike. It couldn't possibly be sentimentality, could it?

Liam leaned closer, lifting Mike's chin to force the man to look at him. Liam doesn't exactly look irritated, but he certainly looks displeased. "Speak clearly," he said, a warning note in his voice. He wasn't opposed to finding an excuse to get Mike on his knees right here.

Mike knows the warning note. He's weighing his options, now--not speak at all or come clean and let Liam know everything about Tim. That hand is on his chin and Mike doesn't bother to hide the spark of a glare that's still there.

This is how they work.

He's tempted, selfishly, to keep saying nothing and just take the punishment, and it shows in his eyes. He can't, though. He can't because there's some part of him still wants to please Liam and make sure he's happy and content and fulfilled so he can get what he wants.

"Tim." His voice is barely audible, and he licks his lips, worried, as his gaze slips to the side, unable to look Liam in the eye.

"His name is Tim."

That look sends a thrill through Liam. Never before has he been able to break someone twice. They were too different after, and often never recovered at all. But Mike was different. Resilient and strong. The idea of getting to do it again, of needing to apply as much force as possible until just that first tear was shed, thrilled Liam more than he could imagine.

They weren't quite there yet. Because in the end Mike lowers his gaze and answers. Still so well trained. But the start of something was there. A sign that perhaps, once it had time to take root, he would need that behavior ground out of him once again. It was a day Liam would look forward to with each passing moment.

His expression softened, and his hand fell from Mike's chin to his neck. A gentle, warm touch. A reward of sorts, a subtle way of indicating there would be no violence and no punishment. His other arm draped elegantly over the man's shoulder. An intimate sort of gesture.

"Tell me about Tim," he implored. Keeping his tone level and almost sweet. Nothing to indicate the sudden flare of bitter jealousy in his chest. Mike wasn't allowed to have anyone else, not when Mike was his.

Just a simple hand on his neck and Mike breathes out, audibly pleased. Liam wasn't upset that he'd mentioned another guy--so maybe this was alright. Maybe this could happen.

He's cautiously optimistic, and he leans into the other's touch, gaze going back to Liam. His voice rises to it's normal tone, and he's still trying to keep it casual as he brings a hand up to touch the arm around his shoulder, thumb rubbing it sensually.

"He's a veteran," he says softly, looking at Liam with a careful warmness. He needs to make sure Liam knows that Mike knows his place, so he shifts a little closer, face inches away from the other. There's no way he's saying that he's a CI, even though his criminal juggling has nothing to do with Liam.

"I gave him Oxy. He likes it, now." He's addicted. Mike still can't quite say that word. "So I thought it could be the same like with us."

The bitter jealousy doesn't so much fade as it gets masked by something else. Something that's half a step away from pride. The same, like with us. The closest approximation to a warm smile spread over Liam's face. This wasn't some tart coming to woo Mike away from him. This was something vastly better. He could see now just how well he'd taught Mike. To the point that he wanted to pass it on to someone new.

"Oh, Mikey..." he breathed out, leaning his forehead against the other's. He couldn't find a way to convey just what he felt. A junkie getting a veteran hooked on Oxy. That was either incredibly easy or a massive accomplishment. But still, he was proud.

But there were concerns. So very many concerns. He lifted his gaze, looking Mike in the eye at such an incredibly close proximity. "Do you think you're ready to handle that on your own, with someone else?" A ploy. He waned an excuse to meet this supposed veteran. To see just what Mike had accomplished.

It's working. Mike moves his hands up to cup the other's face as they touch foreheads, and he breathes out, visibly relieved. Liam trusts him. Liam knows he can do the right thing.

Part of him kind of does want to kidnap Tim. To keep him in a warehouse, to deprive him just so he can get Tim's love. Just like Liam did with him.

Did Mike love Liam?

He thinks so, but it's hard to tell sometimes. He's scared of Liam, sure. But right now he's still comfortably numb thanks to the oxy, and his smile widens. "He had a nightmare and I gave him a pipe," he explains. "And he's been with me--us--ever since." He doesn't talk about the punches, or the rough parts where Tim vets his frustration on him with a hand on his throat. Doesn't talk about how Tim hates him when he's sober. That's what he's trying to fix.

"I think I can do it," he tells Liam. Keeps the fact that he doesn't want to do it exactly like Liam, though, doesn't want to kidnap him and wants Tim to want it for the most part. "He was fucking someone that looked like you and I thought it was a perfect idea." He pauses.

"Do you think I'm ready?"

Liam pulled his head back, blinking. Almost startled. Someone that looked like him. Here? In Kentucky? No, it couldn't be. The pills had clearly warped Mike's perceptions, or it was someone who merely looked vaguely similar. There was no way it could actually be who he thought.

He settled slightly, with a faint, almost sympathetic smile. He patted Mike's cheek before pulling back. He'd never actually think Mike was ready, because thinking he was ready meant Mike had progressed beyond his control. And that was something he would never allow to happen.

"That's not an easy answer," he said, sounding troubled and torn, as he retrieved his drink. "Veterans are...well, they're tricky. Tough as nails in almost everything, but they've always got this trigger. You hit that and you never quite know what's gonna happen." He moved back to where he'd been a moment before, so very close to Mike. "But what I'd like to know, is how you came to see him fucking another man." Because that comment 'that looked like you' was still nagging at him. He needed proof it wasn't who he thought it was.

Liam pulls back and Mike is sure he's fucked up-just that action alone. He leans forward, trying to follow him with his body, but it's too late and Liam is talking. He's trying to memorize all of his words, or as much as he can while he's still in a state, pupils blown wide.

Hit Tim's trigger. The nightmares? The booze? He'd never, ever been sober enough to pay attention, thinking this was just their thing. How it was different. Turns out it wasn't so different at all.

Liam touches him and Mike forgets to watch his mouth. Mostly because Liam is so close and as defiant as Mike always is to some extent, Liam has the ability to strip him bare in terms of psychology.

"We rented a hotel room to smoke and fuck around. His boyfriend found us." And, quickly-- "It's okay. I gave him some, too. That's why I'm out so early, I needed to placate him like you did me."

It was all part of the game. Keep Mike on his toes. Just a little unbalanced. Just a little unsure of himself. Allowing him too much confidence would without a doubt lead to problems. Like thinking he can do to someone else what was done to him. Finding his own form of control and wandering too far from Liam.

There was a word in there that certainly had his attention. Placate. Was this boyfriend demanding the pills, or was he involuntary in this? Curiosity burned white-hot inside him, but he couldn't appear too interested. That would give Mike too much control in the situation.

"So he was already hooked?" Liam asked, as if more concerned about clarity of information than the actual events.

"No." It comes out quick, correcting Liam before he can come to any conclusions. He's proud of this--eerily proud, and it shows on his face. He smiles, wide, crow's feet around his eyes more pronounced, dimples surfacing.

He can't help himself--he grabs Liam by the upper shoulders, squeezing tightly, and nods.

"I did it. To two people, I did it." His smile only widens as he steps forward again, body close against Liam. Liam will be happy to hear that, he's sure of it. "I didn't think--I mean, you've got all the pills in the world. That's why I knew it would be okay if I came back early, and then the more I thought about it, the more I want to do what you do but to Tim."

The quickness of the response seemed to startle Liam, an eyebrow raising. That smile, however, would have been unsettling to anyone else. But to Liam it was a mark of absolute triumph. Mike came to him as a junkie in denial about his problem. And now he was proud to drag others down into it. An aspect that Liam had never actively tried to inspire, and yet it was happening.

To show just how much he appreciated this, his hand found Mike's chin again. But only to keep him there as he leaned in to kiss the man. Kiss him in a way he hadn't ever done before. There was such tenderness to it. Deep and loving. He was very good at mimicking such heartfelt things.

However, it didn't last long at all. Only a few seconds. He pulled back, just enough to speak and said softly. "Let's sit down. I want you to tell me all about how you did it." And about this mysterious boyfriend.

It's amazing. It's the same way he and Tim kiss, soft and tender and beautiful. Mike wants to kiss Liam more like that, and just take his time with the other. He's learned to enjoy the bruises and the restraints and the gags and the welts, but Liam's said before that their time was all about different experiences. Why couldn't this be one, too? He'd been good.

It's obvious he wants to continue, moving up to catch the other's lip but the other stops him and speaks softly and nicely and Mike suddenly wants another hit of Oxy, just to make this even better than it already was.

He reaches over to the sink to tap ashes out and grabs a used cup for an ashtray, and it's then that he sits down. He doesn't know where to begin, and it shows, so he settles for sitting just a little out of reach of Liam, closing himself off physically as he thinks.

"Me and Tim met each other and rented a hotel room. He slept before me, and then started having some weird nightmare or something about living in the army." He doesn't care that's not the proper wording, not right now. "So I woke him up and told him I know what would help him forget all of that and fix it."

Liam wants to keep giving Mike more. Keep him wanting more. Just for that look alone, that reaching for it once its gone. But this is a reward, or rather a hint of a reward that's to come once he tells the story. It can only be given out in small pieces. And already Liam was thinking of so much more that could be done to further that reward, if the story was good enough.

He let Mike pull away, distance himself as he sat down. Liam himself finished off the last of his drink and set the bottle beside the sink. He maintained that distance, leaning against the wall, watching and listening.

Starting with Tim, not the boyfriend. Not exactly what he'd asked, but he couldn't fault Mike for that. Yet. It was a matter of interpretation on the request, filtered through the fogged mind of a junkie. But still, his fingers itched to grab Mike by the hair, yank his head back, and demand a concise answer. He made himself wait.

"It was that easy?" His tone was neutral, almost bland. Masking just how interested he really was.

Mike murmurs yes, leaning back once he knows Liam's not going into the couch. He's a little more comfortable, but not much. He's used to not being comfortable. He's used to not being used to anything, and that in and of itself is a dichotomy.

He takes a small breath before he starts again. "Yeah. But Tim--he knows the other guy. So we went to the hotel room, he came on, too, wanting to meet him. I was there, too." His lips curl up into a smirk.

"He was so fucking pissed, man. He had been trying to get Tim clean, I thought he was gonna just punch me. But he didn't. He didn't and I just knew what would make it better. I took a hit and shot gunned it, and then Tim and I got Billy cuffed to the bed so we could just duck around and let it happen."

Oh, Liam wanted to be right there with Mike. On top of him. Not letting him forget for an instant who was in control here. But part of this was catching him off guard. Letting him think it was all fine, then tearing the rug out from under his feet. So he let Mike be comfortable. Probably the only time he'd allow it in his presence. Because he needed that comfort. Comfort loosened tongues. It would allow the story to flow more smoothly, to let certain details slip out.

It was going so well, and Liam actually looked impressed. Then a name slipped out. That's all it took. A name. And his face went completely blank. A mask sliding into place to hide a strange mix of eagerness and irritation. After a moment, he nodded, as if thinking it all over.

"Billy," he repeated finally. "He's the one who you mentioned before. That you saw Tim with." No questions, just repeating facts. "So it was all three of you at once, then."

Mike is calm, now. Riding out the last of his haze. He wasn't joking about needing more, though, and for all the noises about wanting Liam's stuff--and if he's honest with himself Liam's expertise--he needs oxy, too. That was just plain simple.

He's halfway done his cigarette now, off-guard, and he nods.

"Yeah, I think that was his name. Looked a bit like you." Looked exactly, but Mike is never sure when he's that high. He spends most of his tim with Tim extra fucked up, just because it makes it more special. His face curls up into another smile, different--he's unable to hide it from his face.

It was the best threesome in his life. Hell it was one of the best weekends of his life. "All that was there was drugs and fucking. You woulda been proud," he comments, because he's sure he would. Mike learned a lot under the other's tutelage.

What business would Billy have in Kentucky? That was the question Liam kept returning to. It must be a coincidence, it had to be. Sure, they were a day's driving away from the DC area, so it wasn't completely out of the question. But the odds were astronomical that after six years they'd end up not only in the same city, but connected to the same people. It couldn't be. There was no way little straight-laced, do-gooder Billy was popping Oxy and having a kinky threesome while handcuffed to a bed a seedy hotel room.

"It sounds like it..." he said, just a little softer than usual.

He needed to know, for certain, if it was him. But he couldn't trust a junkie's memories. For all he knew this guy just happened to be of a vaguely similar build with the same color hair. The drug haze made it easy to sketch in the wrong details. The name was a mere coincidence. That made a great deal more sense.

Pushing off the wall, he moved over to Mike. He leaned over the man, just so he could pluck the cigarette from his fingers. Everything that belonged to the junkie belonged to him. He took a slow drag from it, watching Mike intently. Not until now did it cross his mind that this could be intentional. Maybe not on Mike's part, but on someone's. If it really was HIS Billy.

"Do you know anything about him beside his name?" Something to settle this one way or another.

"No," Mike says, and the entire time he's staring enviously at those lips. The fact Liam has his cigarette doesn't bother him at all. It's a reminder of his place, and he's not exactly happy about it, but he understands why. It's a part of Liam.

mike doesn't kid himself, he knows he doesn't know all about Liam and how he works. Sometimes, though, he thinks he knows some of it.

"I wasn't exactly asking about his life story, Liam, I was fucking horny and Tim was there."

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Tagging while waiting for the couple.