Disobedience (Zakhar and Evgeni)

Evgeni lay sprawled out on the bed, tending to his healing wounds. A quiet hiss escaped him as the cotton bud touched his old burns. He had largely recovered from the wounding that the vampire and that elf had inflicted on him, but he still had to keep it clean. Which was mildly irritating.

He had been avoiding going back to the room recently. The hospital wing beds were comfortable enough, and he was trying to avoid contact with Zakhar. The whole "slave" deal was starting to irritate him a bit.

Throwing the cotton wool bud in the bin, he packed the disinfecting kit away, stretching out on the bed.

Zakhar gave a moan, rolling his shoulders as he pushed open the bedroom door and strolled in.

He had finished fucking Tyrael and left him just minutes before.

Sweat still slicked his body and his shirt clung to his damn skin.

The shirt was flung in the direction of his bed a moment later, followed close by one boot then the other.

His slacks and boxers dropped to the floor just outside the bathroom door.

He hadn't even paused to greet Evgeni. He wanted a shower desperately. His hands were covered in blood and semen and he felt unpleasantly wet soaked in sweat.

He didn't close the door behind him, just stepped straight into the shower.

Evgeni didn't bother to greet Zakhar either, but didn't get up to leave like he might have done a couple of days before. Zakhar wasn't worth the effort and he was exhausted. He hadn't slept for about three nights, since his wounds hurt and he was avoiding coming back to the room, and now he just wanted to sleep.

He hadn't even checked whose bed he was lying on before he started to doze off, curling into himself as he listened to the sound of the water running.

The shower was quick and left the Lycan feeling much cleaner than he was previously.

He stalked towards his bed, towel drying his hair.

His eyes narrowed when he saw Evgeni curled up in his bed. Without his permission.

The Lycan stalked forwards and gave Evgeni's hair a sharp yank, pulling him off the bed. "Untrained Slaves sleep on the floor," he said as he stepped over the older man and laid out on the bed himself, tossing the wet towel at the Bulgarian.

He yelped in suprise, jolting out of his dreams as he was yanked off the bed. Realising what had just happened, his teeth bared in a snarl, climbing to his feet.

"I am not your fucking slave and I will sleep wherever the fuck I want."

His hand fisted in the man's hair, happily returning the gesture as he threw Zakhar onto the floor. He gave the man's stomach a satisfying stamp before resuming his spot on the bed, a growl rumbling in his chest.

He knew he shouldn't have come back here. All he wanted was to curl up and sleep on a bed. Was that so difficult?

The Lycan growled.

In moments he was on the bed, pushing Evgeni to lie on his stomach, pulling his arms behind his back mercilessly.

"Do not disobey your Master, slave."

He was not in the mood to be defied.

"I said, I'm not your slave." he snarled, legs thrashing out to kick Zakhar in the side.

Evgeni twisted under the man's grip, managing to wrench one arm out of Zakhar's grasp to hit him in the stomach.

He was not in the mood to be fucked with. Sleep deprived, burned, cut up and pumped full of painkillers which made him even more tired and grumpy. Booting him off the bed now was not a good idea.

His free arm launched up to punch Zakhar in the face, feeling the crack of his nose breaking under his fist.

"Synshlyukha!" he yelled when Evgeni struck his already broken nose.

Holy shit, was it break Zakhar's nose day or something? He wished he had gotten the memo.

Now he was not happy.

His hand struck Evgeni's face harshly and he gave a loud growl.

Zakhar pulled away from the man long enough to pull a few leather strips from his drawer before descending on him with an angry snarl.

He was not happy and this Wolf was going to learn that disobeying him was never a good thing. Never.

The Lycan yanked at Evgeni's arms and legs mercilessly, tying them together tightly in a hogtie that he wouldn't be able to escape from any time this century. The Bulgarian was bound and vulnerable. His legs were spread and his arms tied to them.

___________
Son of a whore

He yelped in shock as Zakhar slapped him, not feeling the pain at first, but soon the burning sensation kicked in. Tasting blood, he realised that he had bitten his cheek and let out a growl fighting to get up.

"Da eba!"

His legs lashed out again, managing to land another kick and a punch to the man's stomach before finding himself fully bound.

"Untie me. Now."

"Not a chance on your miserable little life."

He was pissed and he was sporting a very painful broken nose. If Evgeni thought he was getting out of this any time soon, he was in for a rude awakening.

His hand came down upon Evgeni's backside harshly, leaving being a burning hand print on a cheek.

"You will learn not to disobey Master."

His teeth bared up at the man, twisting in his bonds to growl up at him.

"When I get out of this I'll..."

He hissed a breath between his teeth, cursing as a hand came down on his behind, jerking in his bonds. His movements slowed down a little as he panted on the bed, mouth hanging open.

A low growl rumbled in his chest.

"Master, my ass."

"You'll? I wont be rolling over this time around, Evgeni."

He arched a brow, deliberately misinterpreting what the older Lycan had said.

"Your ass?" He gripped a cheek through the man's jeans then slapped it again. "What about it? Do you want to be fucked?"

He jerked Ev's head up by his hair and stared down at him. "Well? DO you want me to fuck you?"

"You think I'd give you the choice?"

Another hiss slipped from his lips as the man's palm collided with his behind again. He caught the man's earlobe between his teeth as Zakhar jerked his head upwards, pulling on it roughly, his teeth drawing blood as he felt the skin tear between his jaws.

Spitting the blood out onto the sheet, his lip curled.

"Go fuck yourself."

He knew he was most likely making matters worse for himself, but he would rather that than admit submission to Zakhar.

"Disobedient little cur," he hissed, backhanding the man again.

Now was not the time for him to be trying to piss Zakhar off. He was in a foul mood and doing anything to tip the scales of his delicate self control was a dangerous and stupid thing to do.

He curled his curly hair around his palm and yanked his head backwards again.

He was expecting the hit this time, so only let out a quiet grunt as Zakhar backhanded him, recoiling as much as the man's grip would allow.

His jaws snapped up at him with a snarl as his head was wrenched backwards, twisting on the sheets in pain.

"Why should I obey you?" he growled.

Zakhar was younger than him. Zakhar hadn't had the training that he had, nor his experience. If anything, Zakhar should be obeying him.

"Ebi se."

He spat up at him.


(Translation: "Fuck you")

"Because you are the one bound up bared to me, not the other way around."

He bent to kiss the man roughly, tugging sharply at his hair.

His anger was quickly shifting to another emotion. A much worse emotion for Evgeni. He was getting aroused again.

And Evgeni was set out for him so perfectly that he couldn't not take advantage of it.

His teeth bit down on the man's lip roughly, splitting the skin as he tried to writhe away from the hand gripping his hair.

The snarl turned into a low groan as his hair was tugged again, forcing himself not to let his head roll backwards. That would mean that he had submitted. Never would he submit to Zakhar so willingly.

"We'll see about that later." he promised, eyes flashing blackly.

The leather creaked as he tried to snap the bonds, legs and arms flexing, only to find that he couldn't. A frustrated growl ripped through the back of his throat, scowling up at the man.

"You shouldn't have tried to piss me off."

He stroked Evgeni's cheek before slapping him again.

"Now you're in for a world of pain and I don't give a shit who sees us. For all I care they can join in," he growled softly.

He was in a bad mood and he was taking it out on Evgeni.

"Try to piss you off? You're not worth the effort."

He yelped as his cheek was slapped again, the skin really starting to sting now from the abuse. Of course he was scared of how Zakhar was going to treat him, but he was just too damn stubborn to shut his mouth and obey the man. And the way Zakhar treated him really got to the proud side of him and riled him up.

It was something he just couldn't ignore.

"See if I care." he snarled back.

"For not being worth the effort, you sure put a lot of it into annoying me."

He smirked when the man yelped. He loved sounds of pain and shock. They were amazing; music to his ears.

"Oh~ Perhaps I should get someone else in here. Watch them fuck you here." He gripped Ev's chin and stroked his lower lip. "While I fuck you here." He slapped the Lycan's ass again. Hard.

The thought made his stomach twist, and he was unsure whether it was in disgust at the thought of being degraded that way, or arousal at the idea. Perhaps it was a bit of both.

He let out a sharp yelp as the hand hit him again, jerking forwards. And quickly recovered again to glare up at Zakhar defiantly, regaining his control.

"Talk, talk, talk. When will you shut up and actually do something?" he forced a confident smirk onto his face.

"Mental torture is always fun to start a session. Words are the most powerful weapon I have."

He manipulate so many with just words alone.

"I can scare people; arouse them." His hand slid from Evgeni's ass to grip him through his jeans.

"Have I aroused you talking about me and someone else fucking you at the same time?" Zakhar arched a brow as he waited for a reply.

He sucked in a breath as a hand gripped him through his jeans, holding back a low, drawn-out groan.

"No." he lied.

Truth be told, Zakhar's words had affected him. But he didn't want Zakhar to have the satisfaction of knowing that. Nor did he want Zakhar to have the power to be able to make him admit that.

"If that's the best you've got, you'll have to try harder."

"You shouldn't lie to Master."

He hummed and opened his drawer, rifling through it until he found his penknife. He flicked the blade out and admired it, running it along the older Lycan's clothed skin.

"I plan to do much better."

He cut a slit along the crotch seam of his jeans.

His eyes widened as Zakhar pulled out the penknife, a panicked growl cracking in his throat as he writhed in dread.

"What-!"

He paled as Zakhar lowered the knife, stilling suddenly, the blood rushing from his face. As the knife cut along the crotch seam, his eyes screwed shut in panic, biting down on his lip.

Now he was completely and utterly vulnerable.