Twinsensibility Part Fifty Five

[dysonrules]

Late again, but it all came to me this morning, FINALLY.  Um... no, the boys aren't quite out of hot water, yet.  LOL!

There were simply too many of them.  Seven, if Lorcan counted correctly.  Despite a good showing from James, who seemed to have picked up a good bit of his father’s heroic nature, and a few well-played hexes of his own, they were both Stunned and trussed up like chickens before they could Disapparate, which they should have done immediately.  Lorcan cursed himself mentally; hindsight was always so clear and yet so bloody useless.

 He could barely concentrate through the after-effects of the Stunner; his head felt stuffed with fuzz.  He tried to focus on James, who was awake and glaring at their captors.

 “What are we going to do with two kids?” one man demanded in a low tone.  He was rail thin, with stringy hair and a nervous twitch.  His robes seemed to shift on his body, as though he had once been larger and had not bothered to acquire new clothing to fit his shrunken frame.

 “I say we kill them,” another said, leaning against the wall and smoking a filthy Muggle cigarette.  The smoke curled around his dark head and he had a bored mien that made Lorcan swallow hard—it was obvious he meant his words.

 “Now don’t be hasty!”  This one was blond and mousy, short and furtive like a rodent.  A tuft of pale beard decorated his chin.  Lorcan stared at them all, trying to commit them to memory.  “We don’t even know who they are.”

 A fourth man crouched before James and frowned at him.  “Who are you, boy?  What you doing ‘ere?”  He was larger than the others, with a thick black beard and a curly mop of hair.  With an eye patch, he would have made a fine pirate, especially since several of his teeth were missing.

 “Hey, now!  Look how pretty they are.  Especially the blondie.”  Lorcan’s attention shifted to the speaker, a dark-haired man with sharp features and a mean look in his black eyes.  Lorcan suppressed a shiver, suspecting the path of the man’s thoughts.  The wizard licked his lips and took a step forward.

 The man against the wall snorted.  “Keep it in your pants, Kirby, if you can.”

 “No names, Digger!”

 “Fuck off; we’re going to kill them, anyway.”

 “Wait, Kirby might have something here, for once.”  The new speaker had a soft-edged voice and Lorcan reluctantly took his eyes from Kirby, who was visibly dangerous, to the other man, who was far more deceptive in looks.  He was leonine in appearance, with cascading blond locks and features that would not have looked out of place on Father Christmas.  Heavy robes concealed much of his frame, but Lorcan was willing to wager most of his supposed bulk was pure muscle.  Of all of them, Lorcan thought he might be the most formidable, although he had only instinct to guide him.

 Kirby smirked and then his features took on a shifty look.  “I get the blondie.”

 “Perhaps,” the leonine man said smoothly.  “And then we can sell them to the Carnelian.”

 Lorcan heard James draw in a startled breath, apparently recognizing the name, which made the sharp-faced man chuckle wickedly.

 “The Carnelian, yeah.  But after.”

 The pirate-like one crouched before James huffed a laugh.  “Mind you don’t damage the merchandise too much.  These two will bring a pretty penny.”

 Kirby strode forward and bent down to reach out a hand and touch Lorcan’s face.  He jerked away and glared at the man, for a moment considering spitting on him, but bound as he was, he assumed it would only earn him sharp punishment.  And from the look of him, the man would enjoy delivering it.

 “They’ll be well-used at the Carnelian,” Kirby said.  “I want a taste first.  A taste of this sweet, sweet meat.”  Lorcan had recoiled as far as his bonds would allow; if willpower alone could accomplish it, he would have gone completely through the wall at his back.  He thought the man might actually drool as he leaned forward as if to kiss Lorcan, who turned his head sharply away from the cabbage-scented breath.

 “Leave him alone,” James said in a voice like iron.

 Kirby’s attention shifted to him and the bearded one laughed.  “Oh ho, this one is feisty.  What you planning to do about it, pretty?”

 James shrugged.  “It’s not me you have to worry about.”

 Lorcan tried to focus on James’ words and slow the frantic pounding of his heart.  He seldom felt fear, unless Lysander was involved, and he didn’t care for it.

 “Then who?” one demanded.

 “Wait, that one looks bloody familiar,” someone said.  “I can’t put my finger on it.”

 The piratical one glared at James again.  “Answer me, boy.  Who are you?”

 “Fuck you,” James said calmly.

 For a moment, Lorcan thought the man would strike James, but then another loud laugh rang out.  “Merlin, we might have to drug this one or they won’t take him at the Carnelian.  They don’t care for the ones they have to break.”

 “Some do,” Digger commented.  “I say we should just kill them.  They’re boys; someone is bound to look for them.”

 “Unless they’re runnin’ away.”

 “You running away from home, boy?” Kirby asked.  His hand was in Lorcan’s hair and he leaned even closer, hot breath panting against Lorcan’s jaw as he murmured, “Did daddy abuse you?”

 Lorcan wondered which one had their wands.  He would give anything to have it in his hand in order to hex the foul vermin into oblivion.  The man put his other hand on Lorcan’s thigh.

 “I don’t think they’ll talk,” someone commented.

 “Give them to me for an hour,” Kirby said in a voice dripping with suppressed excitement.  “They’ll talk.”  His hand moved up Lorcan’s leg to cup his cock, which Lorcan suspected might never get hard again due to the level of disgust he currently felt.  Despite himself, he made a noise that mortifyingly resembled a whimper.

 “I said leave him alone!” James growled.

 While Lorcan appreciated the brave show of support, he thought James might have been better off not to have spoken at all.  Kirby painfully squeezed Lorcan’s cock and the others only laughed.

 “Wait a tick, I know who ‘e looks like!  Cor, ‘e’s the spittin’ image o’ Harry Potter!”

 Stunned silence met that pronouncement and all eyes turned to James, whose defiant glare only cemented the resemblance.

 Fuck, Lorcan thought.



Cliffie, what cliffie? *runs away*

Oh and in case you guys haven't been following the Albus/Scorpius Last Drabble Writer Standing Competition, (ass_ldws ) our lovely byaghro has been kicking some serious hiney and is in the FINAL THREE! WOOT! CLICKY HERE TO READ (and to just admire the artwork on her journal, because DAYUM I never get tired of that pic)! And many *glomps of love* to her for the speed-beta.  :D