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Yassen sips tea from a thimble-sized teacup and tries to keep a straight face.
The bigger the villain, the smaller the teacups. Always. It’s like they think a veneer of refinement will somehow elevate their run-of-the-mill, killing lots of people and world domination plot, but Yassen’s seen it all.
Still, negotiations are negotiations, so he plasters on a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes and continues discussing uranium supplies with their latest potential customer while his pet refills their teacups.
Said pet is wearing an absolutely ridiculous getup, nothing but pants of a sheer blue tulle that leave little to the imagination: beneath them, the boy is naked, his cock locked in a cage. A key bounces on a gold chain around his chest, matching the golden bracelets – cuffs, really – around his wrists. The only other adornments are on his eyes, lined with kohl and glittering blue eyeshadow. Other than that, he is a vast expanse of pale skin.
Yassen had recognized him instantly the moment he’d entered.
Alex Rider, looking surprisingly suited to this position. He moves with grace, eyes downcast as he pours tea, docility in every gesture. For a moment, Yassen fears that Alex has been truly broken. But no, Yassen is intimately familiar with servility himself, and he thinks that Alex has merely learned to temper his instincts and swallow his pride.
“My newest pet,” Anton Howarditz says, catching Yassen’s gaze. “Isn’t he lovely?”
“Quite,” Yassen agrees, and it’s not a lie.
Alex’s eyes only widen slightly in surprise as he hears Yassen’s voice and recognizes him. The boy really has gotten better, or perhaps they’ve finally given him some training.
“Since you’ve been so generous, I gift him to you for the night. I hope you will enjoy this small gesture of my hospitality. He’s quite new, so you’ll be the first to enjoy him.”
Oh. Oh, but that’s even better.
Howarditz gestures with a hand, and obediently Alex walks over and kneels, resting his head against Yassen’s knee.
“He’s lovely,” Yassen says. “So docile. I must wonder why you haven’t collared him, though.”
He says it half out of curiosity, and he feels Alex tense slightly against him at the words.
“That would be covering up the best part,” Howarditz says. “See how perfect his neck is for a hand around it.”
“Hmmm.” Yassen reaches experimentally forward, placing his hand at Alex’s throat. The boy tenses even more, but it is a credit to him that he remains still. His pulse thunders beneath Yassen’s hand, like a bird beating its wings against its cage. “I see what you mean.”
“I’m truly delighted,” Yassen says. The men doing business with Scorpia have often tried to get on his good side, but this one is one of the few who has actually succeeded.
Mostly. He’s still feeling judgy about the teacups, though.
“I will send him to you tonight, then, yes? After we’ve finalized our business?”
Yassen allows a hand to slip down and toy with the boy’s hair.
“That is more than acceptable.”
….
“Come in!” he calls several hours later, when he hears the knock on his door.
Alex enters tentatively, still wearing the same getup. He’s grown and filled out in the time since Yassen has seen him last, Yassen notices. Certainly no longer a child, even if he is still more boy than man, slender where he will likely be muscular in a few years.
“Alex,” he says, letting his delight inflect his voice with a slight purr. “I must say, it’s a lovely surprise to see you here. We will have a wonderful time together tonight, I’m sure.”
He can see the moment Alex understands. It’s like watching a cat suddenly arch its back and hiss as it notices a new danger.
“You – but you – “ Alex seems at a loss for words, his usual snappy comebacks utterly absent.
Yassen has to resist the urge to laugh outright at his naiveté.
“What, did you think that because I refused to take your life, that I have a similar concern for your virtue? Perhaps even for your chastity?” It had been a guess, but he can see from the way Alex trembles – only slightly, the boy really is improving – that his suspicions are likely correct. The boy is a virgin.
Oh, he will enjoy that.
Yassen reaches for him, thinking only to trail a finger over the curve of his jawline, but Alex flinches from him, swatting his hand away. That is what the boy had thought, then. Oh, but he still has so much to learn.
Yassen grabs his wrists in a punishing grip that Alex struggles uselessly against.
“I can make this good for you, if you cooperate,” he tells the boy. “Or I can tie you down and take what I want from you. Either way, you will be mine tonight.”
Alex glares at him. There is still so much fight in him, and Yassen is glad. He had feared that Alex might have finally been broken, but no, he is still a young colt, untamed. Yassen’s to dominate, and he will enjoy that resistance. He would have taken no pleasure in perfect obedience.
Yassen sees the moment when Alex surrenders, though. The fight doesn’t go out of him – oh no, nothing like that. It is still there, a fire in his eyes. He merely bows to the necessity of the situation, slumping slightly, and when Yassen releases his wrists, he lets himself be gathered close and kissed.
He even kisses back, and in Yassen’s embrace, their bodies press against each other. Alex seems to get lost in it, moaning, and tries to rub himself against Yassen. It makes him curious.
He parts their lips gently.
“How old are you, Alex?” he asks.
“Sixteen.”
Sixteen. So much older than Yassen, when this had been taken from him.
“Now, take off that ridiculous getup.”
Alex lets fall the pants, revealing a caged cock that awaits Yassen like a giftwrapped present. Alex colors as he sees Yassen’s gaze, but says nothing.
“The bed, Alex,” he says softly.
There’s that moment when Alex considers resistance, but again he surrenders to necessity. He walks tentatively forward, but stands in front of the bed uncertainly. Yassen is starting to think he really will have to hold him down when Alex asks, “how do you want me?”
“On your back, please,” Yassen instructs.
Alex obeys, crawling onto the covers and turning over. “There are supplies in the top drawer,” he informs Yassen in a monotone.
“We’ll get there,” Yassen says, crawling over Alex.
The boy’s eyes widen.
“Relax, Alex. I told you, I’ll make this good for you. So long as you cooperate.” He runs his knuckles up the inside of Alex’s thigh as he says that. Alex’s leg jerks, and he sees the act of willpower it takes him to remain still, his legs spread so Yassen can kneel between them.
“Good boy,” he says. “Lie back.”
Tension radiates from Alex, but he holds himself still, staring unblinking at the ceiling. Perhaps he thinks to make the affair unpleasant for Yassen by being cold and unresponsive.
That’s not how Yassen wants him. He wants Alex willing, and it looks like he will simply have to make that happen.
He leans forward to trail kisses over the crook of Alex’s neck and lave the hollow of his throat with his tongue. Alex makes a valiant effort to stay still, but as Yassen’s mouth moves to his nipples, flicking at them with his tongue, gasps begin to escape from the boy, though he tries to hold them back by biting his lip. Yassen redoubles his efforts, sucking on the delicate nubs until the stand ready, before sliding down even further.
Alex tenses again, but Yassen thoroughly ignores his cock, straining against its cage, to plant more kisses on the insides of Alex’s thighs, leaving little bites that make the boy gasp with pleasure. He continues his attentions until Alex is relaxed and trembling with anticipation, which is when Yassen reaches for the lube and hands it over.
“Get yourself ready for me,” he orders.
Alex takes it hesitantly, but once he lies back down, it becomes clear to Yassen that he’s done this before, what with the way he warms the liquid with his hands before reaching between his legs, the way his body seems to know what to expect when he inserts the first finger. His eyes are closed, as if he thinks that his eyelids will offer him an escape from Yassen and the entire situation, and as his own fingers continue to work himself open, his body is relaxed. Pliant. Just like Yassen wants him, and he stands still for a few minutes, watching the mesmerizing movement of Alex’s hand, the way he shifts for a better angle and bites his lip. He fails to bite back a whimper, his movements growing desperate as he inserts a third finger and his body still clearly longs for more.
Or perhaps the whimper is frustration at his caged cock, straining against the clear plastic.
Well, Yassen will give him more.
“Enough,” Yassen orders, and Alex freezes. His eyes snap open, and his face acquires the expression of a deer in the headlights as reality comes flooding back.
Yassen had undressed efficiently while watching Alex, and now he sprawls in a plush chair and gives his cock a few leisurely strokes.
“Have you done this before, Alex?” he asks. “Have you touched yourself?”
Alex squeezes his eyes shut and nods with clear reluctance.
“Say it,” Yassen orders.
“Yes.” The word is quiet.
“I thought so. Not quite as innocent as you pretend, are you?” Yassen muses. “Come here, Alex.”
Slowly, Alex rises and pads over to settle in his lap. It makes their cocks brush against each other – or, rather, Yassen’s cock brushes against Alex’s caged one, and Alex grabs for Yassen’s shoulders for balance.
“Don’t worry. I won’t let you fall. Continue.”
One hand still on Yassen’s shoulder, Alex continues what he began, reaching behind himself and riding his fingers. A flush is spreading over his beautiful skin, his lips bitten red, and he pants with exertion and, doubtless, need. Yassen strokes his own cock with tantalizing slowness, enough to take the edge off of his own need as he watches the boy.
“How long have you been here, Alex?” he inquires.
“Two weeks,” Alex admits.
Two weeks, locked up and unable to assuage his desires. Yassen is the first he’s been gifted to, and he’s sixteen, arousal constantly raging through his blood. Oh, but he will fall apart in Yassen’s hands, and Yassen will relish every moment of it.
Yassen toys with the key at his chest.
“As I said, Alex, I can make this good for you. Do you promise to do as I say?”
Alex nods desperately. “Yes. Please.”
The first please of the night. There will be many more, but this one deserves a reward of its own.
Yassen takes the key off his neck and unlocks the cage. Alex’s cock springs free, filling so quickly it must make Alex dizzy, with the way he grabs for Yassen, fingers leaving imprints in skin.
Yassen laughs softly, charmed.
“Would you prefer to be bent over, or would you like to – how is it that you English say? Lie back and think of England?” he asks.
He had deliberately offered two options that Alex would likely find the most demeaning – he could choose to be bent over a piece of furniture and taken, or willingly spread his legs for Yassen.
There is a perversity in that impulse to give Alex this choice. But what he had told Alex was true. He is not a good man. And besides, Yassen already intends to have his pleasure from Alex tonight. What does it matter, if he seeks a slight bit more by subjecting Alex to what, he thinks, is really quite a minor humiliation?
Alex appears to consider it.
“The bed,” he says finally. Yassen wonders if he has some notion of lying back, cold and unresponsive as stone, as he had done earlier. Perhaps he thinks that will turn Yassen off. Had he not already learned that Yassen will simply bend reality to his will?
This time, Yassen picks him up and carries him, depositing him atop the silky covers. A waste of money, Yassen thinks, for surely the guests regularly stain them while enjoying their host’s ….hospitality.
Once on the bed, Alex blinks at him, wide-eyed, though Yassen notes with satisfaction that he’s parted his legs for Yassen to settle between them. Which he does.
But again Alex is tense, and Yassen settles a hand on his flank, meant to be reassuring.
“Relax,” he coaxes. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
That does not mean, of course, that he won’t. If this is indeed the boy’s first time, as Yassen so strongly suspects, there will be pain. But Yassen will take no pleasure in inflicting it. And he intends to keep his word: he will compensate the boy for it with pleasure.
He rubs a hand up and down his flank, and the boy does relax marginally beneath his touch. Yassen takes advantage of that to slide inside, and oh, Alex’s young body is tight and perfect around it. He cries out slightly, grabbing for Yassen. Remarkable, how after everything, he is what the boy clings to in this moment of vulnerability.
“Hush,” Yassen soothes. He slides in and out slowly, attempting different angles until he hits upon the one that makes Alex cry out, nails digging into Yassen’s back. He continues at that angle, and Alex’s nails must be drawing blood by now as they scratch down Yassen’s back. He wraps his legs around Yassen and clings tight, letting fall gorgeous little gasps. They are almost as good as the feel of Alex around him, the heat and tightness of his hole.
“Please,” he lets slip. His hand tries to sneak down to touch himself, and Yassen isn’t having that; he grabs it and pins it above Alex’s head as he speeds up his thrusts.
“Please. Yassen, please.”
Oh, but the boy must be truly desperate, to use his first name like a lover’s.
Yassen continues his punishing pace, staring mesmerized all the while at the expressions that flit over Alex’s face – need, desperation – and the struggles against Yassen’s grip. Finally, he takes mercy on him, giving the boy’s cock a few quick strokes that send his release splattering over the beautiful body that lies beneath him. But Yassen’s attention is fixed on Alex’s face, as need morphs into shock, then pleasure. Alex clenches around him as he climaxes, and there, that.
That’s the moment he had waited for, and now, he spills freely inside Alex, who whimpers, doubtless at the feel of the remnants of Yassen inside him in that way.
Yassen chuckles. He relishes the thought of Alex feeling his touch for days to come, haunted by the memories of tonight as if by a phantom.
After Yassen pulls out, Alex merely lies there, head turned to his side, as if by avoiding Yassen’s gaze he can avoid the reality of what they have just done.
Yassen can’t quite hold it against him. He remembers the way that shame settles, after, once the pleasure dissipates.
Instead, Yassen merely admires. Alex lies still, pale limbs against dark sheets. His eyes had brimmed with tears of need, smearing the dark pencil that lined his eyes, and now it runs over his cheeks, while the blue glitter of his eyeshadow dusts his skin.
He looks perfectly debauched, and it is clear to Yassen in that moment that he has taken a piece of Alex’s innocence. Alex had already lost so many, but, remarkably, not this one. This one will be Yassen’s forever.
It is better this way, perhaps. If Alex kept on in this line of work, this outcome was an inevitability. Better, perhaps, that Yassen took this piece rather than anyone else.
(They had almost sent Zeldjan Kurst to do this negotiation, Yassen recalls).
But all those are justifications. Excuses. He had invented dozens of them, when he had started out in this line of work. But now he has learned not to indulge himself. He is what he is. Decidedly not a good man. He has taken this piece of Alex, and he has enjoyed it.
That is that.
“You will sleep in my bed tonight,” Yassen instructs. Again Alex tenses, the bliss of pleasure evaporating off of him.
“Sleep,” Yassen says firmly, unsure why he feels the need to reassure Alex. “Nothing more.”
Alex nods and goes to get cleaned up in the bathroom as Yassen settles under the covers and stretches, feeling loose and pliant and thoroughly content.
…..
Yassen wakes first, and as the rays of sunlight spill through the window, he allows himself the indulgence of watching Alex’s sleep. It’s the most peaceful he’s ever seen the boy look, stealing a few hours of reprieve before the rest of his mission and whatever harebrained escape he’ll have devised to get out of here.
But soon enough, Alex is stirring, and Yassen forces himself to rise rather than allowing himself to be caught in a moment of vulnerability.
“Since you came here for intelligence, have some,” he says as soon as the boy has blinked his eyes open. His tone is cool and precise as a knife. “I won’t tell you what the uranium is for, but suffice it to say that Scorpia wants MI6 to know we have it. Do with that what you will.”
Alex jerks back. “You knew I’d be here?”
“I didn’t know that I’d find you in such a compromising position” – Alex colors as he obviously remembers what position he was in on the bed last night – “but yes. I knew I’d find you here.”
“Fuck you, Yassen,” Alex spits at him.
Ah, there’s that fire again. He hopes Alex never loses it.
“No, I think what happened is that I fucked you,” he corrects, and watches Alex’s dawning comprehension, followed by fury.
“You – I’ll – “
“Kill me?” Yassen supplies.
Alex straightens himself up. “No. But I will ensure that you end up in a deep, dark hole from which no pardon and no negotiation can ever save you.”
Truly, Alex is growing up to become a remarkable agent. Soon, he will surpass even John Rider.
Although, in one important way, he already has.