Not In This Lifetime Ch. 06

This is crazy. I'm an idiot. I'm about to be arrested or murdered in the streets.

They made it to a stretch of secluded hallway and before Mile could take in his surroundings, Symond had slammed him into the wall, pinning him up against it. Mile gasped at the sudden rough treatment and looked up at the officer, anxiety creeping over him once again. The man gazed down upon him with a deadpan expression.

"You really fucked up, Domarc. Your latest stunt has me in a bind. The king is livid." He paused, before adding, "the only silver lining is that he has completely forsaken you as his son."

Mile stared up at Symond, not following.

The other man shook his head, never letting up on his grip on the rebel's arms. "It's not out just yet, but you are now a wanted man. Dead or alive." Mile winced, the man's fingers digging into his arms painfully. Symond reached down with one hand to grasp his jaw, forcing the other to look directly into his face.

"You know what that means, Domarc?" The cold spike of dread surged up Mile's spine. He struggled against the older man in vain. "It means you're fair game."

Symond leaned down and captured Mile's lips in a rough kiss. Mile stiffened in surprise and tried to push the man away so he could flee. He felt very unsafe. Symond had a firm hold on him and never broke the kiss, smashing his lips aggressively against the other's mouth, his tongue exploring extensively.

He rested one hand on Mile's hip, the other still pinning his left arm to the wall, and pressed his body up against Mile, grinding his hips into the other's. Mile groaned into the older man's mouth. The kiss was invasive and powerful -- much like the man himself. Mile mustered up all his strength and threw a punch at the other to the best of his ability with one side of his body being held in place. Symond stumbled back slightly and raised an eyebrow.

"Very nice... You're stronger than last time." Mile thought he almost sounded pleased. "You're going to have to work harder, though." With that, he winked and returned the punch, hitting Mile in the stomach. Mile grunted and fell to his knees, the wind having been knocked out of him. Before he could recover, Symond pulled him to his feet again.

"You want to keep fighting?"

"Fuck you," Mile sputtered, now fraught with hostility. "Piece of shit --"

Symond smacked him across the face.

"Fucking --"

He smacked him again, harder this time. Mile groaned and desperately tried to pull away.

"Stop fighting."

"Fuck you."

Symond backhanded him across the face. Mile whimpered and slumped against the wall.

"You done?"

"Piss off."

Symond sighed and punched him in the stomach again. Mile grunted in pain and fell forward, his hands and knees hitting the cool floor beneath him. He stayed there, panting and attempting to catch his breath at the other man's feet. Symond kneeled on one knee in front of him.

"Done?"

After a moment, Mile gave a single nod. He couldn't take anymore.

"Oh, good."

Symond grabbed his jaw again, craning his head upward, and captured his lips in another kiss. Mile didn't struggle this time. He gazed at the other's face through half lidded eyes and tried to recover from the onslaught he had just experienced. After a moment Symond pulled away, much to Mile's relief; his neck was beginning to ache from the extreme angle.

"Good boy," he patted Mile's cheek. "You did well, baby." Mile was annoyed to find himself blushing at the bizarre show of affection the older man was suddenly bestowing upon him -- and right after the beating he gave him. This was turning into a mindfuck.

Symond smiled at the quizzical look on the rebel's face. He himself wasn't sure what the praise was for exactly -- withstanding the beating he dished out, or perhaps managing to steal his goddamn laptop right out from under his nose last tuesday. Perhaps both. Symond was impressed with him. He was also annoyed as all hell, but impressed nonetheless. He stood and offered a hand to Mile.

"Come."

Mile ignored the gesture and struggled to his feet. Once upright, Symond grabbed his wrist and led him the rest of the way down the hall. They came to a door, which the officer opened and they stepped out into the crisp night.

"Oh..." Mile hadn't even realized how hot it had gotten in the club. The cool air on his hot and freshly bruised skin felt amazing. He blinked a few times, his eyes straining to adjust to the darkness. Once they had, he gazed up at the sky, admiring the sea of stars above. Wishing he was anywhere but here. Symond, confident that Mile wouldn't try to run again, let go of his wrist to light up a cigarette. He looked at Mile, and followed his gaze up to the sky.

"I've always loved how many stars you can see from out here versus in the city," he mused. He took another drag, then offered the cigarette to Mile. Mile paused for a moment but then accepted it from him and took a drag from it before handing it back. He realized that if he was to be arrested tonight, it might be one of the last pleasures he would ever experience. Symond smiled and took another drag before flicking it onto the ground and smashing it out. Then he turned to face Mile.

"Domarc."

Mile swallowed hard and found himself shrinking back from the menacing officer. The man knew how to make him feel small. Symond had him backed up against the wall of the building. He reached out and tenderly stroked his hair.

"I'm going to fuck your brains out."

Mile blinked in surprise at the bluntness of the man. Before he could reply, Symond was pushing him to the ground and unbuckling his pants. Mile grunted when he hit the ground, inwardly cursing him for being so aggressive. Symond jerked Mile's pants down to his knees and turned him onto his stomach. Mile heard the rustling of the other man's pants sliding off his hips and he tried to prepare himself for what was about to come.

"So tell me, Domarc," Symond began as he tugged Mile's boxers down to join the pants that had bunched around his knees. "Which one of them sent you?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Believe me when I say I intend to cut off the head of the snake -- but first I need to pinpoint who exactly of the three that is. It's Thiled -- he sent you on the mission, did he not?"

Mile laughed despite himself. "It was all me, officer Welles." Symond stopped moving to look at him. Mile continued. "I coordinated the entire thing. I recruited Malla Broggs to offer his assistance to you again knowing that you'd have him place one of your cameras in our headquarters. I convinced Eros and Bere to pitch a fake takeover of Kilead to lure you away from the Eastrun base. And then I personally infiltrated your base and stole your technology. I wasn't expecting the amount of soldiers you had stationed there, and I still succeeded."

Symond stared at the back of Mile's head in nonplussed silence. After a few moments he snaked an arm under Mile's stomach and leaned over his back to speak directly into his ear.

"You are incredibly smug considering the position I have you in."

The officer wasted no more time. Mile gasped when he felt the man roughly spreading his cheeks and the head of his cock pressing up against his asshole, adding pressure to the tight ring already. He tensed and felt a pang of panic when he realized he wasn't planning on using any sort of lube. Symond spoke quietly, "this is not going to feel good for you."

Mile bit the inside of his bottom lip but was unable to stifle a small, anxious whimper. The officer paused briefly before seemingly deciding to take a small measure of pity on him, and spit in his hand a few times before smearing it on the head of his cock. He pulled Mile's hips back a bit while holding his rock-hard cock steady and then impaled himself fully with one vigorous thrust. Mile screamed at the forced entry that felt as though it had torn his sphincter in two -- and then was immediately followed by burning friction from the lack of lube and preparation. Symond clamped a hand over his mouth to stifle the noise.

Mile tried to scramble away from the other man, but Symond leaned back over him, placing his forearm horizontally across his shoulder blades and driving his weight down onto him. Mile found his torso pinned to the the ground, face pressing into the hard concrete below. Symond had his other arm securely under his stomach, holding his hips up. He immediately began thrusting into him, again and again. The young man's body felt amazing around him, and it had been such a long time since he allowed himself the pleasure of another. The pleasure was all the more sweet since he was able to unload his frustrations into the very person who had caused them.

Mile's experience was the opposite of Symond's. It was certainly not good, as the older man had promised it wouldn't be. The dry fuck was agonizing, and the officer's thrusts were aggressive as he sought his release. Symond was making it very clear that this was not about sex -- Mile was being punished for his transgressions.

"You piece of shit," the man growled into his ear as he mercilessly fucked his ass. "You know how far back you've set me?"

He pushed up from where he had been pinning Mile's back, and tightly grasped a fistful of hair at the base of his skull, craning his head to the side so he could see his face.

"How foolish and weak you've made me look?"

Symond spit in Mile's face, the wad of saliva landing right between his eyes. Mile gasped and flinched in surprise.

"You want to be an enemy of the kingdom so fucking bad? Then I'll treat you as such." Another wad of spit landed just under his eye.

"Fucking -- treacherous -- lowlife -- scum." He seemed to punctuate each word with a rough thrust of his hips. He placed a hand on the back of Mile's head, holding his face into the ground as he took him. "How does it feel," he growled, "to have eight inches of man buried in your guts, you worthless fucking rebel whore?"

Mile whimpered. He didn't know if it was from blood or precum and he was honestly afraid to think too hard about that, but the other man was sliding in with much less resistance now, and he couldn't help but begin to enjoy the fullness inside of him.

Symond felt the younger man's body start to relax beneath him despite his rough treatment and virulent words, and he reached underneath Mile and grasped his shaft. He smirked against the back of Mile's neck when he felt how hard the younger man was.

"Well now," Symond commented, "how am I supposed to teach you a lesson about respect when you enjoy my methods of discipline so much?" He leaned down and kissed along Mile's jawline before lowering his mouth to just under his jaw and biting him hard, a small bruise forming almost immediately. Mile gasped at the sharp pain and clenched his eyes shut.

"You're a fucking disgrace. An embarrassment of a royal; an embarrassment of a soldier."

Mile's lower jaw tensed. "Fuck you."

Without warning, Symond pulled out of him and flipped him onto his back effortlessly. Mile let out a surprised grunt when he landed on his back, immediately followed by a cry of pain as Symond's palm connected with his cheek. Symond yanked Mile's pants and boxers off the rest of the way and spread his legs, raising one ankle to rest against his shoulder, and hiking his hips up before guiding his erection back into Mile's abused hole. Mile winced at the reentry, his insides now swollen and sore from the previous pummeling, and he struggled to re-accommodate the man's girth. He threw his head back at the biting pain and pressed both hands up against the officer's navel in an effort to deny the man further entry.

"Please," Mile gasped out through gritted teeth. "Hurts."

"Good."

Symond gazed down at Mile's pained expression as he pushed through the resistance and reestablished his rhythm. He took a moment to admire the looks of the man beneath him. Mile had gotten a haircut since they had last crossed paths -- his dark brown hair now shorter at the back but a mess of longer curly fringe remaining atop his head. The facial resemblance to his father and older brother was striking. The Domarc genes were strong.

He couldn't believe he was hate-fucking one of the sons of the king. The thought brought Symond so close to the edge. It was truly a shame that he would have to dispense of him one way or another, but the young man had made his bed by crossing his father.

Symond snaked a hand down to Mile's throat before grasping it tightly, causing the other to gasp in surprise. He squeezed even tighter, closing off his windpipe. When Mile realized he could no longer breathe, he began to struggle beneath the other man. Symond thrust deeply into the rebel, enjoying the look of anxiety in his eyes as he deprived him of air. Mile grasped at the hand around his throat, desperately trying to pull it off of him. The other made no indication that he would let up. Mile began to panic as he felt lightheaded from the oxygen deprivation.

At last Symond released his grip on the young man's airway and Mile took in a shaky, gasping breath. Symond smacked his face before he had time to recover, and then again.

Mile was taking Symond's brutality like a champ, as the officer was learning to expect from him. The young rebel's face was twisted in pain, but he was glaring up at Symond defiantly. Symond enjoyed how much fight he had in him. Anyone else surely would have stopped fighting much sooner in self preservation. Symond wasn't sure if that was stupidity from being raised privileged, bravery, or just indifference on the part of Mile, but my god the obstinate little shit turned him on. And despite his resistance, Mile certainly didn't seem too opposed to the officer's manhandling of him. His body betrayed him.

Symond finally slowed his thrusts, wanting to prolong the experience. It had been way too long since it'd been this good, he wanted to relish it. The head of his cock suddenly hit Mile's prostate, causing the other man to gasp and his cock to jump. The officer noticed this and continued the slow, deep thrusts, intentionally rubbing against his prostate. Mile finally broke his death glare to clench his eyes shut and moan. He reached up with one hand, grasping Symond's bicep to steady himself. He had had no idea that sex with a man could feel so good.

"Oh fuck," Mile practically whispered, his throat both parched from thirst and sore from the earlier strangulation.

"Heh, there we go."

Symond kept the pace, staring down at the rebel through half lidded eyes, admiring his face as he experienced pure ecstasy from the way the officer moved inside of him. Symond hadn't intended to pleasure the other -- the fact that the young royal was getting off on being dominated and roughed up had come as a bit of a surprise -- but Symond found that he enjoyed watching the younger man lose himself in the pleasure he inflicted.

Eventually he started picking up speed again, tightly holding his body against the figure beneath him, pressing his legs up against his chest as they derived pleasure from each other. Mile reached up now with both hands and grasped the older man's sides, desperate for something to cling to as the pressure in his loins grew with each thrust against his prostrate. Symond couldn't help but smile at this. He snaked an arm under the small of Mile's back and pulled him somehow even closer to himself.

Symond felt his orgasm building as he continued his thrusts into Mile.

"You feel so fucking good," he panted into the other's ear. Then he closed his eyes and let out a guttural moan as his orgasm washed over him, flooding the other man's insides with his seed. Mile reached down between them to grasp his own aching cock, but Symond quickly swatted his hand away.

"No."

Mile raised an eyebrow indignantly and again tried to grab himself. The officer grabbed his wrist roughly, pinning it above his head, causing the younger man to wince.

"I said no." Symond wanted to leave the rebel unsatisfied and hungry for more. If he couldn't punish the younger man with pain and domination, he would have to try something else, and this seemed fitting.

Both men were breathing heavily as they lay there, Symond still recovering from his orgasm, and Mile still desperate for his own release. Finally, Symond extracted himself from the other, Mile grunting slightly at the sensation and feeling of loss. His cock was still painfully hard. Symond stood, pulling up his boxers and pants and tucking himself away. He gazed down at Mile the entire time. Once he had fastened his pants and belt, he gently nudged Mile with his boot and spoke.

"Pull yourself together, Domarc."

Mile opened his eyes and looked up at him warily, unsure of what to expect from the other at this point. Symond noticed his hesitation and added, "this is a neutral zone. I have no intention of arresting you. I am not a monster," he said with a wink.

Mile raised his eyebrows incredulously, clearly recalling the beating he had just taken. Symond grinned at his expression and squatted down as Mile propped himself up. He grabbed the younger man's chin and turned his face to the side, observing the bruise that had formed there.

"You bruise easily." He gently stroked the area with his thumb. Mile frowned.

"You hit hard."

The officer laughed a little and Mile thought he actually looked a bit apologetic.

"I'd say maybe it will teach you to obey more readily and drop the attitude, but I hope for your sake we never meet again. If we do, I'm afraid things will go very differently." Mile pulled his head away from Symond's hand and started to stand, reaching for his discarded clothes. Symond stood as well and observed the other as he stepped into his boxers and pants.

"Make yourself scarce, Domarc. I don't want to see or hear word of your existence around here. This is a neutral zone, but you will find that not everyone is as willing to respect that as I am." Mile turned to leave before Symond grabbed his wrist.

"Hey."

Mile stopped moving and looked at the other man, worried he had changed his mind about letting him leave. Symond stepped forward, pulling Mile close to him and cupped his face, causing the other man to blush furiously at the sudden intimacy.

"You're a really good boy. It's a shame." Symond smiled remorsefully and patted his face before gently pushing him away.

"Get out of here."

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Mile laid on his back in the dark following his second encounter with Symond Welles. He kept replaying the scene in his mind as he lay on the small cot in the crowded living space that had become his home. His fellow rebel soldiers in the cots nearby were sleeping, and Mile had promptly jerked himself to completion upon arriving home. Even so, he couldn't stop thinking about the officer and the brutality he had inflicted that was juxtaposed but evenly matched by the tender affection he provided. Mile was intrigued by the man, and sleep didn't come easily that night. Cerys stumbled in during the wee hours of the morning and fumbled himself into the cot closest to Mile's and they slept.

That morning, Mile awoke to the red headed man shaking him from his slumber.

"Yo -- the fuck happened to you?"

Cerys was standing above him looking concerned, and poked at the bruise on Mile's cheek. Mile grunted and swatted his friend's hand away before pushing himself upright to sit on the edge of his cot. He rubbed his eyes and his thoughts went back to the night before.

"Seriously Mile, what the fuck happened?" Mile sighed and looked at his friend.

"Cerys, is there something about me that makes people want to beat the shit out of me?" Cerys looked taken aback for a moment before laughing.

"Are you serious? Are you seriously asking me that -- because I don't think you want to know the answer." Mile groaned. "Did Dego do this to you?" Cerys pressed.