"No more!" he cried. "S-stop it - e-enough!"

For one second, Hunter stared at him.

Then he dropped the riding crop and crowded him back against the wall, pressing his firm body up against Charles's trembling one.

The blond couldn't hold himself up any more - when Hunter lifted his arms, winding them about his neck, he buried his face in his shoulder, crying softly.

"There, there. Was it too much for you?"

Charles nodded. He felt weak and tired, limbs like jelly.

But he was still hard, his body betraying him, clenching around the toy that kept stimulating him.

"Shall I reward you now?"

He whimpered as Hunter reached down and tugged the plug out of him with an obscene, slick 'pop'.

"Well?"

There was clinking as the other man undid his belt with one hand and then a faint sound as he rolled on a condom, but Hunter kissed him again, demanding entrance, forcing his tongue into his mouth and keeping him from looking down. 

The distinctive scent of latex reached Charles's nostrils, while Hunter still held him pressed up against the wall with his body, and lined himself up.

Aching for release, high on endorphins and adrenaline after being whipped, Charles needed some comfort, gentleness, something, anything... more tears welled up in his eyes, spilling over, and he was ready to give in. 

A hand gripped his length, squeezing.

"Well?"

"Ah..." the tears dripped from the tip of his nose and he couldn't - he needed - 

"Yes..." he whispered.

The stretch and pain when Hunter breached him was so slight compared to his back that it almost didn't register.

"Aaaah...ngh...hngh, haa..."

He moaned, feeling himself being filled, being full.

Hunter kissed his tear-streaked face, licking into his mouth as he rocked into him, grabbing Charles's legs and hooking them over his hips while he pressed the younger man's smarting back against the cool wall.

He pinched his nipple hard, dragging a surprised shout out of Charles, who bucked and felt Hunter slide even deeper.

The taller man smirked into his surprised face, winding his fingers into the waves at the nape of his neck and rolling his hips.

"Oh...!"

Charles gasped, feeling a bead of precome slide down his cock.

Hunter rubbed his nipples between his thumb and forefinger, tugging, and then dragged his hand down his pale belly, ghosting it around his base, up his shaft, as he started thrusting up into him.

"Ah, oh, God..."

Hunter pressed his palm against Charles's lower stomach, eyes dark with lust, and another whimper escaped the blond's throat in response.

He shoved him back into the wall and Charles cried out, pain shooting through him.

"Does it hurt?" 

It sounded like he knew the answer.

"Y-yes!" the chemist managed, and Hunter wound both arms around his waist, pulling him out from the wall and kissing him, tongue invading his mouth.

He pulled back an inch. "Turn around, then."

Without waiting for him to comply, he dragged Charles off him, spun him around, and pushed him down on his hands and knees.

The blond could feel Hunter move in behind him, feel the heat of his skin through his open trousers as he moved in between his legs, roughly dragging him back up to meet him.

His eyes widened when he felt Hunter spread him wide, before nudging his slick hole with the head of his cock.

Hunter shoved back into him and at this angle Charles could feel everything, so deep, each thrust grinding against his prostate.

"Mmph...! Haa...ah...!!"

He could feel his cock throb and his insides twitching and squeezing as Hunter fucked him into the plush rug.

"That's right...moan for me, Charles. Now you're being a good... You were made to get fucked like this."

Heat was building up everywhere, his back on fire, his ass burning, muscles screaming, and his cock aching for release. 

Finally, Hunter reached around him, stroking him roughly, and after keeping him on edge for so long, that was all it took. 

When Charles came it stole the last of his dwindling strength. His arms buckled as he fell forward into the rug, Hunter still pounding into him, pulling his hips back onto his cock, fucking into his body with a quiet grunt as the younger man spasmed around him.

"That's right, I like it when you come around me...Just relax until I'm done with you."

Charles didn't have the strength to do anything else. He felt completely wrung dry, emotionally and physically.

He'd failed to resist Hunter. He had liked it, pleasure still coursing him, little cries still spilling from his lips as Hunter took him, his come striping the expensive rug, smearing across his belly, losing his sense of time passing.

"Just take what I give you."

Charles turned his face into the rug, feeling Hunter push deeper inside, stretching him further, finally filling him up.

His weight covering him, holding him down. 

"Good boy," Hunter breathed smugly, sucking a hickey into the back of his neck.

"Now you're mine again."

He'd lost his sense of how much time had passed, how long the drive had been, how long Hunter had whipped him, fucked him...how long they had been lying here. 

At last, Hunter got up, kicked off his own suit pants, and brought Charles a glass of water. He lifted his head into his lap and helped him drink it. 

"Are you tired?"

"Yes," Charles whispered, feeling his wet cheek against Hunter's thigh, slick with tears, hair plastered to his forehead.

"Well, let's get you washed up and into bed. You'll feel better."

Hunter walked away to start the shower, leaving Charles lying on the floor. The blond dragged himself over to his discarded trousers and pulled his phone out of them, fingers shaking, pressing 'call'.

Please...I need to know you're alright. 

It rang and rang. The minute it clicked to voicemail he tried again, another sob wracking through him.

"Please pick up..."

Suddenly, the microphone turned on, seconds counting. He had answered!

"Please, Kit," Charles begged, and he knew his voice sounded wrecked, "I need you to - "

"What's this?"

Hunter pulled the mobile from his fingers and tossed it down on top of his discarded clothes, ending the call as he drew Charles up, almost carrying him.

"Leave that alone and let me clean you up. You're a mess."

He hushed his protests, shushing him like a child and herding him into the shower.

Charles leaned his head against the tiles, too exhausted to argue, feeling water run over his puffy eyelids. He had run out of tears.

It had always been like this. Hunter, controlling him. Charles, giving in, letting him. Going along. Being grateful that he was allowed.

In college, Charles had felt lost and alone and Hunter had seemed like the answer to everything. If he obeyed him, trusted him, then everything would be okay.

You know I never want to hurt you.

But that wasn't true. Hunter had hurt him, used him. And Charles had let him take him away from Kit, who was alone now - at night, on the streets, in this city where he was still a stranger.

It was wrong. Kit deserved a guardian who was better than this. Someone who kept his promises, instead of crossing his fingers behind his back. Someone who didn't give in to his possessive, pushy boss... Someone brave and strong. 

Charles couldn't give up responsibility over his life, over his choices and actions, to someone else - to Hunter - they way he had done.

He had to take responsibility. He had to get control back. Over his body, his life, his career.

It was time to make a choice.

But at the thought of defying Hunter, limbs started trembling, like a conditioned response, and he struggled to breathe evenly. 

I'm just not brave, he thought. I'm just not strong...

How was he supposed to...? But he had to. Somehow. He had to find the strength, because Kit needed him. Charles couldn't let him run away and disappear on the streets or into the system, he couldn't.

And not just for his sister's sake. For his Kit's sake. His wonderful, sharp, capable, sarcastic, compassionate, impulsive nephew.

How had he managed to screw things up so badly?

It didn't matter what it took, or how afraid or weak-willed Charles was - he had to fix this. He had to get Kit back.

Charles thought about his little nephew's stricken, furious face. And he thought - really thought -about the words he's said.

You hurt people. You bring misery into their lives - for money.

That's not what Charles had wanted. He'd just wanted to - to please Hunter, and to focus on his pretty molecules. To understand them and shape them and stay inside that little world where no-one could hurt him!

The microcosmos of electron pairs and calculating molecular mass and balancing complicated chemical formulas - that was where he felt safe and confident and how could that hurt anyone?

Except it could. It had hurt people. His sister. His nephew.

I can't do it any more.

"Hunter, I - I want to resign." 

He hadn't meant to say the words, but when he did, they felt right. 

They came out breathless, barely a sentence, just as Hunter moved to shampoo his hair, sandalwood-scented gel in his hands.

His former college senior turned his head slowly towards him.

"What did you say?"

Charles gulped. "I - I'm resigning. I don't - I can't do this anymore."

"You don't mean that, Charles. Resign? You can't resign."

Hunter shook his head, incredulous. "You're lying."

The disbelief was plain on his face. Hunter always seemed to be in his element, at ease they way people were when they were born to a place in the world, born with everything they needed. He had always been competitive, had loved winning, being right. 

"You must be lying."

"I'm not. I don't - I want to leave now. Hunter, l-let me out - " he tried to move past him, but the other man paid him no heed.

"Charles...you like this. Weren't we happy?"

"I don't know, I - maybe I was, or thought I was - maybe I just wanted to make you happy but now - I don't want to." 

It came out in a rush, straight from his tired, fucked-out, addled brain to his mouth. And it felt like a relief to know what he wanted. And what he didn't want. Finally, he knew. 

"Tonight showed me - I don't want this anymore."

At last, Charles felt sure of what he wanted. 

"I want to find my nephew."

I want to be with my family. With Kit. 

If he could ever earn his trust back, if he could find him and convince him to return, to give Charles another chance to shape up. 

And he wanted to date someone who made him feel precious and beautiful and cared for and adored, asked what he wanted and listened to his answers -

Someone like Amos.

Compared to that - to family, to trust, and respect - his job and his old, twisted sense of obligation to Hunter didn't matter at all. 

He tried to push past the other man again, but this time his boss crowded closer, shoving him back against the tiles.

Charles's breath caught in his throat as Hunter smiled, slick fingers coming up to wrap around the weaker man's throat, thumb rubbing over his Adam's apple.

"You're lying to me." 

Eyes widening, Charles tried to shy away, and suddenly Hunter slammed him back, replacing one hand with his forearm and applying pressure, cutting off his air. 

"No - guh - Hu-Hunter - !" 

"You'll feel differently in the morning." 

Fighting to pry his hands off, he clawed at them, gasping for air, feet slipping on the tiles, head spinning, black and white static crowding in to fill his vision.

Muscles already exhausted, Charles soon collapsed - and as he did, he felt those same hard, relentless arms catch him, cradle his naked body.

"You're not going anywhere."