Work Text:
There have been a number of times that Henry had been injured to the point of bleeding or something broken. The first few times in his adolescence involved playing too rough with the other kids, later a sprained wrist when he punched the bigger, meaner senior who kept picking on May Stillwater in high school. College and his time in Prudhoe Bay added to that list, as well as a few stints and bar fights when he first opened The Red Pony. Henry would not call himself accident prone, more so violence prone especially as of late. His time in jail and navigating the environment was an acceleration of all types of injuries he could possibly sustain in such a small space, tormented every day of getting it worse if he stepped out of line.
Operating as Hector did not stop the violent streaks in his life either. He faced dangerous men, and would not stop until those who hurt his people were eradicated from the Rez, even if it meant facing men twice his size, with more money and power, Henry would find a way around them.
Still, owning a bar that was now under Malachi’s hand did not mean his responsibilities were lifted. No, instead Malachi, who held his payments over his head, worked him on longer shifts, catering jobs the Red Pony never offered before, and serving his rough and sketchy men whenever they felt like it.
Tonight the men were celebrating, and for what he had no idea. He just served the beer they asked, and kept himself busy with washing glasses and cleaning when one of them, young, probably early 20s, wearing an odd amount of leather and a cocky grin, approached Henry and demanded a keg . Over at his table were some other young folk, college age probably, and they were not locals. They were watching with smiles and snickers at his boldness, asking ‘Marco’ if he was getting the beer or not.
Henry informed he did not serve by the keg, and even Malachi agreed with that rule. The kid must have been new, or maybe in his drunken stupierior just arrogant, as he went to demand Henry for that keg, and when he said no a second time, the kid came around the bar and shoved him.
Henry just gave him a deadpan stare. “Please return to your table, I will be out with another round in just a moment.”
“I said the keg, old man.”
“ No .”
Clearly undisciplined, the kid took a swing at Henry and missed. But in the crowded bar space Henry did not have enough room to move. The next punch was to his stomach, and when he clutched in pain an elbow to his shoulder brought him down. Dazed and exhausted from the long work day, Henry barely got his hands on the kid before a glass bottle smashed into his head.
Beer and something sticky dripped down. He barely registered the kid was off of him, being held back by another one of Malachi’s men as Henry blindly reached for a dish towel to place at his wound.
“You are out . ” Henry yelled, pointing at the double doors. If the kid was trying to fight back, the other goon would not allow him.
“Get that clean, Standing Bear.” The man commanded, and unfortunately Henry had to take that advice as his head throbbed in pain.
In the comforts of his apartment, Henry tended to his wounds, but he only had alcohol wipes and stick-on bandages. He had been meaning to buy an actual first aid kit with supplies, especially if he were to continue as Hector, so he made a note to go shopping tomorrow.
He could not hear the chatter from downstairs, so maybe the men had finally left, leaving him to clean after them before tomorrow’s breakfast shift. Henry sighed, ready to go back when he opened his door, only to be met with a broad chest, covered in plaid and a leather jacket. Darius Burns stood in front of him, one hand holding a plastic bag from the convenience store, the other raised as if ready to knock. They were both surprised, Henry because he was not expecting company so late, and Darius…
Well, he was unsure why the man would be surprised.
Clearly he came up here for a reason, but maybe he did not expect Henry to answer before he could knock.
“The bar is unattended.” Henry simply said, trying to move past him.
“I cleared it out. Staff should be almost done cleaning.” Darius simply said, staying by the door. “You didn’t clean that well.” He pointed his chin up, gesturing to Henry’s head wound.
“I do not have enough supplies.” Henry shrugged.
“Well I do, are you going to let me in?”
Henry looked down at the plastic bag, making out some label that could be bandages, and something rattled like a pill bottle.
Sighing, Henry stepped back, holding the door open to let his captor in.
Having Darius in his space was not something new, but it always amazed Henry how much smaller his apartment was with the other man in there, not just because of his big statue, but because his home was really meant for one person. The bed barely fit two people, his kitchenette with enough burners to cook two things at once, and his bathroom door was still not fixed, because if he was alone what was the purpose of it?
Darius set his bag on the table, shrugging off his leather coat and hanging it on Henry’s coat rack. He even politely removed his blue ostrich boots, placing it by the shoe rack next to Henry’s own boots and tennis shoes. He went through his bag, pulling out an unopened container of hydrogen peroxide, clean cotton pads, and gauze. “Show me.” Darius said.
There was a lot to show, which was the problem. Besides the punches he took to the gut Henry only got most of the glass out of his skin and head. He touched the side of his head, pulling away to see a thin veil of blood staining his fingers.
Henry approached him, tilting his head slightly and moving his hair back to show the wound. Darius took a deep breath, his hand hesitantly moving up to feel it for himself. Henry closed his eyes, trying not to wince when Darius did touch it. He knew the man was not trying to hurt him, this time, but it stung nonetheless.
“You don’t have enough light in here.” Darius commented, taking Henry’s hand to lead him to his bed. His nightstand lamp was a dull yellow, but was also the brightest bulb in the room.
Darius sat on his bed, knees hanging over the edge, giving Henry enough room to sit where he would be closer to the light.
It was already presumptuous for Darius to invade his space and his bed uninvited, so instead of sharing the bed, Henry swung his legs over his lap, sitting rightfully in place. Darius was shocked, at first, hands frozen with the supplies, so Henry carded his hand through his hair, exposing the wound. “Can you see it now?”
He watched closely as Darius inhaled slowly, trying to focus his eyes on Henry’s head but found them wandering around his body. After a moment, he nodded and got to cleaning.
With one hand holding his hair back, Henry used the other to balance himself on Darius’ shoulder, taking in just how broad the other man was compared to him.
His nails clawed in his shoulders when the chemicals hit his head. Gritting his teeth, Henry just let Darius clean him off. Any open wound was treated, until there was a pile of dirty cotton pads growing on his nightstand.
“You won’t need stitches.” Darius said, taking the over the counter medication dab it on each shallow cut.
“I did not think I would.”
Finally, Darius covered the biggest wound with cotton, and wrapped it with the gauze. It went under his bangs and around his head, making Henry look more injured than he actually was. The other cuts only had neosporin or a regular bandaid.
When he finished, Darius made no moves to sit up. Instead he let his hands wander on Henry’s thigh covered jeans, touching the wet spot where the beer spilled on him earlier.
“Who did this?”
Henry raised an eyebrow. “Why do you care?”
He was no longer his own person. When he turned over his bar to Malachi, he essentially sold himself to the extortionist, with Darius as his jailor. Every movement, every time Henry stepped out of the imaginary boundary lines, he would be questioned and watched. If Malachi’s men wanted to be rough with him, push him around, he would let them, otherwise it was a deducted paycheck for Henry, or one of his own staff would be punished.
Henry stayed in line, at least towards Malachi’s men. He let them push, call him names, even offered more beer or food, and Malachi did not care, so long as he was alive.
Darius was the main perpetrator of the attacks he received. The bigger man had no problem man handling him, cornering him in tight spaces to feel him up and put his mouth on him. Henry could fight as much as he wanted, but in the end he had to give in, otherwise he would be in trouble with Malachi.
He was only a plaything to him. And if that’s all he was, well, Henry could play as well.
“Because they’re not supposed to touch you.” Darius answered, gently running his fingers through his hair.
Henry snorted. “Malachi’s men are not allowed to play with each other’s toys?”
He felt Darius’ hands tighten. “You’re not a toy.”
“No?” He asked, voice filled with skepticism.
“No.” Darius said, pulling Henry by his hips to keep him in his lap. His voice was practically a growl when he said, “You’re mine .”
Henry shuddered at his words, keeping his eyes on Darius as he lazily draped his arms over his shoulders. “If I am yours, why were bruises from other men left on me?”
With steady hands, Darius reached up to Henry’s flannel and began unbuttoning it, one by one until he was met with just skin. Henry usually wore an undershirt, but the night was warm, so he did not put one on before his shift.
Darius pushed it over his shoulders, and Henry dropped his arms just to let the fabric fall off his shoulders. He watched closely, Darius’ breath trying to maintain a steady pace, as he observed the dark bruises forming on his body.
Henry touched the one on his shoulder, where he was elbowed down. However, the new bruise there was not what bothered him. His hand trailed up to his neck, unmarked. “A few weeks before, one of your men found me in the storage room.”
“What?” Darius asked, clearly unaware of this occurrence.
“He was drunk and got lost trying to find the bathroom,” Henry continued, keeping his hand in place. “Called me Malachi’s pretty toy, and said he wanted a turn. He kissed me here, but I managed to push him off.”
Darius was leering now, but not at him per say, but rather the invisible lips that once ghosted his skin. The man did not even bite, so nothing expect his saliva was left. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
“I did not know I was supposed to.” Henry admitted. He thought all efforts of the men’s abuse would fall on deaf ears. “Plus, you were in a meeting. By the time it was over he was pissed drunk on my bar floor.”
Darius was still not satisfied with that. By this point Henry had only revealed two incidents of being touched without permission, implying others have tried to rough house it with him before. Some have, but none ever got what they wanted, not what Darius already had. The others were not interested in sex, however, just a punching bag who could not fight back.
Large hands explored his exposed chest, carefully touching the forming bruises with the pads of his fingers. Henry tried to steady his breath when Darius found a particularly sensitive spot where he was hit several times. But when he flinched back, Darius shook his head, and Henry swore he heard a growl.
“Next time any of them touch you, you tell me right away.” His voice dripped with possession, clearly angry the other men had their chance to even lay a hand on him. Somewhere in there was genuine anger, however, at his own men. Henry soaked that in, as it was the only way Darius would be on Henry’s side in their fucked up arrangement. “Who did this tonight?”
“Marco. I think I have seen him driving supplies in and out of the casino.” Henry said. “Younger, likes to wear that leather wrist cuff and smells like cigarettes?”
“Fucking christ.” Darius swore, clearly recognizing who Henry was talking about. “He’s never even looked at you.”
He was not doubting Henry’s accusation, but it was clear he did not know his men as well as he thought. “He usually does not. But he had a few too many and wanted more for his friends.”
Darius’ hand rested on the small of his back. Henry quite liked being held like this.
“What friends?”
“I believe they were just vacationers from the casino. I did not recognize them as regulars.” Henry supplied, resting in his captor’s touch. “But then your other man, Han I think, pulled him off after the bottle.”
Henry did not believe any of the men working under Malachi were good. None were forced or coerced, choosing to side with the devil himself. But Henry could recognize the better ones of the group. Han was quiet, keeping his head down and only responded when spoken to. He had never looked at Henry with interest or disdain. Henry now had the power to punish any of these men, but reward them as well.
Darius took in the information, squeezing Henry’s hips as if to pull him impossibly closer in his lap. Henry placed his hands on Darius’ face, and pressed their foreheads together. The other man smelled like cedar and pines. Before he had the smell of cigarettes, but he had quit around the time he decided to start their...relationship. Henry hated the smell, so he was appreciative of that small gesture.
Henry moved his head, just barely ghosting his lips over Darius, but not daring to touch. If Darius wanted him, he would have to take him for himself, as he always did.
Instead, a large hand carded through the unwounded side of his head. “You have a head injury.”
Henry mentally rolled his eyes, anger building in him at Darius’ odd change of behavior this entire night. If he really thought about it, their last few encounters bordered on intimate rather than their game of captor and captive. It was as if he cared.
He ignored that voice in his head, rationally gathering all behavioral evidence that he does care.
In some fucked up way, he cared about his war bride.
Henry was not about to admit that maybe, a lonely part of him, loved that attention too.
“I know, I was there.” Henry said, moving his lips to Darius’ cheek instead. “But I do not want to go to sleep, knowing their touch is still on me.”
Finally Darius closed the gap between them, surging up to capture Henry’s lips in a hungry, angry kiss. Henry smiled into it, wrapping his arms around the other man’s neck to keep him as close as possible, all the while grinding his hips down to indicate what he wanted--what he needed hours ago.
Darius pushed his flannel off his shoulders, and helped him out of his white tank top by pulling it over his head, only breaking the kiss then.
Henry’s hands were no longer idle either, blindly grasping and pushing back Darius’ leather jacket onto his bed, and desperately trying to get his shirt off.
All the times they have had sex, Darius kept his clothes on. It must have been some power move on his part, to have Henry always vulnerable while he kept most of his composure. The most he’d ever taken off was his jacket--even the dumb blue ostrict boots stayed on.
Not this time. Henry wanted more and if Darius could take from him, he could take a little back.
Once his shirt was off, Henry was finally able to take a nice long look at his captor’s muscled and toned chest. Henry ran his hands down from his neck, fingers just slightly brushing over Darius’ nipple, before landing right at his waistband. He was staring for a while, because soon Darius huffed, though it was not out of annoying. Probably impatience.
When Henry met his eyes, he was smirking. “Like what you see?”
“Yes.” Henry admitted. “You never let me see you like this.”
“I like watching you more.” Darius said, only confirming Henry’s suspicions. “Get your pants off, Henry, if you want this to go further.”
His name on Darius’ lips caused him to shudder, which only added to the man’s ego. But Henry was not going to argue with him now. He slid off his lap just to remove his pants, cursing he chose this cut of jeans that hugged too tightly around his body. Darius chuckled, helping him by pulling them down past his thighs. Henry haphazardly stepped out, and then slid his briefs off next. Darius leaned back on the bed, taking in Henry’s naked form as he licked his lips.
Henry blushed, suddenly feeling too exposed despite wanting to be exactly where he was now. Wanting to be a pretty trophy.
Henry returned to Darius’ lap, his erection in full view and needing to be touched. For now, he went for Darius’ belt, sliding the leather through each belt loop and let it hit the floor with a clank. Taking the top button off, Henry leaned in for another kiss as he unzipped his pants to finally pull out his own prize.
Darius sighed contently into their kiss, his own hand going down Henry’s back and squeezing his ass. His fingers were close to his hole, but he would not dare breach him dry. Henry pulled back to take out the lube that was stashed in his night stand, and when he passed it to Darius, the other man gave him a shark-like smile.
“I like you desperate.” Darius said. The pop of the cap echoed in his tiny apartment. “You really want to be fucked tonight huh? Despite being hurt.”
Henry bit his lower lip as Darius’ fingers slid between him, lightly circling his rim before gently inserting the first finger in. Used to his own fingers too, the stretch was in no way uncomfortable, but Henry still trembled from his touch. Darius held him still with his other hand on his hip, rubbing his thumb in a circular motion that was either unconscious of him, or to keep him relaxed. It worked regardless of the intent, and Henry let out a whimper when a second, and then a third entered him.
Darius opened him up thoroughly and with care, kissing his jaw and nipping at his skin as he scissored him. The man was teasing him, however, as he would only touch his prostate every few thrusts, to have Henry begging him to go deeper and faster. Henry’s cock was leaking now, a dribble of come leaking from his slit. When he looked down, he could see Darius’s cock was also hard and interested. He tried to reach down to grab it, but Darius took his wrist and kissed it.
“No, let me do this.”
That was different from their previous encounters. Henry was there to serve Darius’ needs, to be on his knees or his back taking his cock for this captor’s pleasure, only to get off if Darius wanted him too. To turn the tables made it feel like he cared. Maybe he did in his own twisted way, and Henry was going to take it.
He did not stop Henry from riding his fingers, watching with an intense gaze. They both knew his fingers would not be enough, and as of late the only way for Henry to truly get off was if Darius was pounding into him.
Henry pressed their foreheads together, pleading in a low voice. “Please, please fuck me Darius.”
Darius inhaled sharply, blindly reaching for the lube to coat his own cock. He did it with less grace and teasing for himself, just getting wet enough for Henry. Once he was ready, he helped guide Henry down onto him.
The stretch was glorious to Henry, finally being filled the way he had grown to love. His legs trembled as he tried to keep balance, before he was finally seated on his throne. He held onto Darius tighter, trying to steady his breathing. But every movement reminded of what was inside him, sending waves of pleasure all over his body.
Darius stroked his back with his knuckles. “What a good cockwarmer,” he teased. “I should have you like this when I’m working.”
Henry could not help but moan at the thought: to be completely naked and seated in the office, keeping Darius pleased while he worked on the books. He wondered how long the two could just stay like that, if Darius would be able to concentrate, or if Henry were to test the waters and try to ride him. Would Darius just use him, come inside him and leave Henry to help himself? Or would he spank him for disobeying?
So many choices, something to possibly explore.
Darius continued to guide him, lifting his hips and then letting Henry drop back down on his cock. It did not take long for a rhythm to start, and soon enough Henry used the muscles of his legs, and Darius’ shoulders as leverage, to ride his cock at his own pace.
The tingling from his head wound was still present, but he completely ignored it in favor of the warm pleasure he felt from his lower half. Darius was warm and slick, his cock stretching him and hitting his sweet spot over and over. Henry had his head thrown back, completely lost in himself, and giving Darius a spot to kiss and bite at his neck. The bite of his teeth only added to the sensations around Henry, and he felt his cock leak more and more until he figured he may come untouched.
Darius seemed to have other plans as he wrapped his large hand around him, and pumped with Henry’s movements. Henry gasped at his touch, and the quiet noises he was trying to keep to himself spilled out, loud enough that maybe someone outside The Pony could hear, and he did not care.
“Y-ees-- Darius please .”
“That’s right, ride my cock darling.”
The nickname was what caused him to come undone, one Darius never used on him before. With a cry he spilled in his hand and between their stomachs, but he was not ready to stop. Darius had yet to come, and he needed to be filled, bred .
Henry tried to keep the pace yet felt himself slowing down. His fingernails dug into Darius’ shoulders, and he noticed how Darius bit his lips from that contact. Did he like it when Henry clawed back at him? He was always too afraid in the past, but this here said otherwise.
“God, you’re so fucking slutty. Riding me like this--you feel fucking amazing .”
Darius was now meeting his thrusts, making up for the lost movement. Henry pushed their lips together, silencing his own moans with Darius until he felt the man still. The cock inside his ass twitched and pumped deep, so much so Henry already felt his come drip out of him.
He pulled away to take a breath, just feeling everything at once. He was still high from his own orgasm, but feeling Darius finish in him was another sensation that made him feel like he was on cloud nine. Darius seemed to be on the same level, his eyes closed and resting on the crook of Henry’s neck and shoulder.
Once Darius softened, he finally slipped out and more come dripped down Henry’s thighs. With two fingers, he scooped what was left and put them in his mouth, licking himself clean while maintaining eye contact. He smirked, watching Darius’ eyes go wide with shock and arousal.
“Dirty old man.” Darius growled.
Henry expected another rough kiss, maybe some manhandling, but he was instead gently laid back on his bed. Darius ran the back of his hand down his face, and Henry leaned into his touch.
“Do you want a bath?”
Henry had to blink himself awake, just in case he misheard that. “What?”
“You haven’t bathed yet, yeah? I can draw you one up.”
Now that he was lying down, Henry felt completely exhausted, but still sweaty and sticky not just from sex, but from the beer that ran down his body after being hit with the bottle. He could shower in the morning, but sleeping like this would only make him restless. “Yes.”
Removing his pants, and now only in his boxers, Darius walked over to the bathroom and began filling the tub. Henry closed his eyes, just listening to the man work around his bathroom until a light shake of his shoulder told him it was ready. He let Darius lead him to the bathtub, and he sank down, and rested his head on the rim.
He startled awake again when a washcloth scrubbed his shoulders and down to his chest. Darius sat behind Henry and on the edge of the tub, his legs on both sides of Henry’s body as he leaned down to clean him. “You do not have to.”
“Shut up. Your skin is sticky.”
Henry shrugged, knowing that was definitely true. There was no reason to argue with Darius, so he let the man wash his upper half, leaning forward as Darius scrubbed his back. Once the water turned cold, Henry pulled the plug to drain it, and Darius stepped out so Henry could rinse himself off with the shower head.
He was not sure if he wrapped the towel around himself, or if Darius did, but once dried he was back in bed, naked, but with his blanket over him. Henry watched through sleepy eyes as Darius re-dressed himself.
“You can stay. It is late.” Henry murmured.
“I have to be at the casino.” Darius said with regret in his voice. “Get some rest. Your shift in the morning will be taken care of.”
Henry asked how, or at least he thought he did. But then his apartment was dark, and his front door closed. Completely worn, he finally fell asleep to the sound of a car starting, and the crickets from the wilderness.
Henry awoke the next morning with a slight headache, shivering, and somehow refreshed. He had gone to bed completely naked, but his clothes from the night were placed in his hamper.
It took him a second to remember what put him here, and why he slept until almost ten when he naturally woke up at six. The extra hours did wonders for him, and once he stretched, he was ready to start his day.
He swallowed the painkillers as he made his breakfast and went through his texts. There was one from Mathias, asking to meet him sometime that week, one from Cady with questions regarding potential Rez clients, and one from Darius, saying that he also had his afternoon shift cover, so Henry could rest.
That only reminded him who was on the morning shift now. Once he was dressed, Henry made his way down to the bar just to take a peek, finding Han serving customers.
This must have been the reward for saving him that night. Henry watched with a raised eyebrow, and Han noticed. Throwing a towel over his shoulder, he simply said, “Boss said not to let you here.”
“I cannot work at my bar?” Henry asked, curious.
“His words, not mine.”
Henry glanced at his former office, noticing it was closed. “Is he alone?” Han nodded.
He decided, then, that if Darius was still working at the casino, and then came in the morning, that he barely had enough sleep. Henry walked towards the kitchen, but turned back when he heard Han following him. “I am making him breakfast. I will not work.”
He did not want to get him in trouble, after all. If he could have another person on his side, maybe Malachi’s plan could fall apart.
Han hesitated, but then gestured for him to go in. Henry greeted his morning cook as he worked beside him, making a simple bacon, eggs, and toast, while brewing a fresh cup of coffee. Once the plate was neat, he carried it over to the office, and opened the door.
Darius was in his chair, hunched over the desk as his head bobbed up and down as if trying to stay awake. He looked up when Henry closed the door, and his brows behind his glasses furrowed. “What are you doing up?”
Henry placed the plate and mug down. “You have had a long night.”
The smell of coffee must have woken him up, because he looked at Henry like he was crazy for even being there. “Is your head okay?”
“A few painkillers have made it manageable.”
Darius eyed him, as if he was trying to make out his lie. At the moment it did not feel like a lie, Henry felt mostly fine, and in a few hours another set of pills would get him through his errands in the afternoon. He had a few Hector letters to answer, and now with his afternoon free he could scout for his target.
“I will be upstairs if you need me.” Henry said, ready to leave Darius to his work when his wrist was pulled, and Henry tumbled clumsily into the man’s lap, facing him.
His face naturally heated from the contact, noticing how Darius kept a hold on his wrist. It was not tight, but clearly he was meant to stay in place.
“I didn’t have time to make it nice.” Darius said.
Henry raised an eyebrow, confused until Darius pulled something out of his pocket. He held it to the desk light for Henry to see.
It was a braided leather bracelet, simple but clearly handmade. But what was strung on the leather were two teeth. From the size, shape, and different discoloration, Henry could tell they were not from the same person.
He kept his wrist out as Darius clasped it around him. It fit perfectly.
“Should I be concerned?” Henry asked, knowing Malachi’s men had no problem with retaliation.
“No,” Darius reassured. He lifted Henry’s jeweled hand and kissed every knuckle. “This is a sign. They will know now.”
Know who he belonged to, know that Henry was already claimed, and that his captor was territorial. This was the consequence for touching what was clearly his. His war bride.
Henry leaned in, resting his forehead against Darius’. A smile formed on his face but it did not feel like happiness, not exactly. It was something darker that unlocked once it was clasped on him, and it was a darkness Henry quickly accepted. He no longer felt like a captive, or a war bride. The teeth had more symbolism than just a jewel, because it was Hector’s signature.
Whether or not Darius knew of his off-hour activities, Henry could not bring himself to care. He gave Henry a present, based on a secret only a few knew.
Darius must have liked the violence in him too. Because a captive bride would not fight like this. No, he had just as much anger in himself as Darius had. Maybe that was Henry’s way in for safety. Or maybe Darius had opened something in him. Two violent men, and the amazing sex between them.
Henry held the bracelet to the light, liking how the teeth clattered when he moved. He suddenly understood why women loved matching jewelry, because he did not feel complete with just the bracelet alone.
He shifted in Darius’s lap, smile still shining dark. “I am on my throne, so where is my crown?”
Darius returned his own wicked smile.