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Kowboys Drink Sarsaparilla

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Johnny wondered long, hard, and often – oh, how often since he had nothing left to do nowadays except wonder – if he was in hell. He really had never thought hell would be quite like this. Then again, he hadn't expected to die so young. Sure, he'd expected to die this handsome, this amazing, and pretty damn epically, just not so young.

He'd expected less iron bars in death, maybe less corporeal things like the plain, stiff-sheeted bed in the corner of his cage, the pot that served as his bathroom, and the cave he was pretty much trapped in. He'd expected less… medieval times type of hell. In fact, ladder hell of the Netherrealm would've been more preferable to this, but since when had he ever been so lucky? That tease of natural light and fresh air from the crack high above him was torture. He couldn't climb the walls; they were too smooth. And, he couldn't get his blankets to catch on anything up there. It was evil.

Being trapped inside this cave was hardly his biggest problem though. His biggest problem was the yellow-clad ninja who was his captor and who stared at him expectedly, who had been staring at him as he ordered him to remove his pants and underwear. Johnny believed the exact phrasing of his next order had been, "Do it or I'll get rid of it," leaving no question as to what it was when he made quite a violent gesture towards 'little Johnny,' his pride and joy.

He wondered what he'd done that was so bad in life that had led him to this point – well, save for the fact that he could name several things off the top of his head that might be categorized as pretty bad. But this was a whole new level of torture. While his face was definitely his 'money maker,' he liked to think that his penis was the 'people pleaser,' and he definitely couldn't lose that.

And really, the gesture towards it had wholly been unnecessary since they'd been stuck in this particularly disturbing song and dance for weeks now. It was never quite the same thing every time the ninja visited, although it usually involved him in various states of undress, and it was always sporadic so Johnny was rarely prepared when the ninja suddenly appeared, yelling "Get over here!" or "Come here!" or some variant thereof. There were only so many things the ninja could possibly expect from him.

This was, however, the first time Scorpion had threatened dismemberment and Johnny wondered if he was in a rush or maybe he'd been having a hard day. Oh, Johnny was going to do everything in his power to make his day so much worse.

"Attendant," Scorpion warned.

He really couldn't help his knee-jerk reaction to that moniker. "I'm not your damn attendant and you can't keep me here forever." Distantly, he knew his retort probably lost much of its impact merely from the fact that he was sitting loosely cross-legged on the floor at the foot of his bed, sitting on a rug that was made of who knew what, trapped in a cave with no pants and no underwear on.

Expectedly, Scorpion was unfazed and he responded with an obvious jab, "I bartered for your soul after you died."

It was a sore spot because Johnny didn't quite understand what had happened after he'd been killed. Oh, he remembered dying. That had been… unpleasant – he was working on his understatements. He tried not to remember those last moments, which meant that he didn't know how Scorpion managed to get him back in his body when by all rights, he should have been one of those floaty, see-through ghosts that they'd seen when Liu had defeated Shang Tsung. He wasn't. He was fairly certain he was alive and had the ninja to thank for that. Honest to goodness, Johnny didn't know how he got himself in these situations.

Scorpion looked to be keeping his distance this time around, but there was little consolation in that when the ninja had that sentient snake in his hand. He'd been surprised one too many times by that; it was a whole 'fool me twice' situation.

So, Johnny did what any sane person would do at that moment. He touched himself. He thought of everything disgusting and unattractive that came to mind from animal entrails to some of his previous co-stars. He thought of the tournament and tried doing algorithmic math in his head. He failed at the math part. Instead, he thought of other tournaments and the gyms he used to go to, of dirty shower stalls, body odors that were often a mix of skunk and expensive cheese. It was never pleasant in those gyms, and despite the fact that he was slowly and surely stroking himself, he remained limp.

Trying to look disappointed – and succeeding because he was that incredible of an actor even the after-afterlife – he shrugged. "It's not going to work. I think you might have injured me the last time you visited." Inwardly, he was cheering. He hated to think that the main skill he'd learned in death was to not get hard, but he would take victories where he could get them.

He glanced past the ninja to the cave entrance; it was only ever open when Scorpion came to visit. Freedom always looked so close, but he had enough bruises and scars to show that he was nowhere near or fast enough to get out. There was also the fact that he was sure they weren't even in the right realm – not that that had stopped him from trying to escape. Even if he had made it out though, he didn't know if he could make it that far without any pants on. He'd learned that removing his pants completely when these sessions started was always the better option in case he needed to make a run for it or fight. Having to pull his pants up always put him at a disadvantage, and there was no way he'd be stupid enough to try running with them down at his ankles again.

He had a sneaking suspicion Scorpion left the gates open on purpose. The sneaky ninja wanted him to try to escape and found great enjoyment in coming up with new, painful, and embarrassingly pleasurable ways of punishing him. Not this time though. Johnny refused to play his game, a game that was designed so that he'd lose.

Scorpion, the bastard, looked completely unaffected by the lack of cooperation on his part. But Johnny refused to believe anything other than the fact that he was winning. He was totally winning because even though he touched himself, he wasn't getting hard and the ninja totally couldn't make him. He'd been practicing.

The masked ninja stalked closer and the motion was menacing enough that Johnny could feel himself tense despite the nonchalance he presented. He would normally fight. Oh, he wanted to punch his face again, but he stifled all the instincts that screamed at him to lash out. He simply sat there, placed his hands on his knees and tried to stare the ninja down.

He refused to react when Scorpion crouched down in front of him and grabbed his penis like he had every right in the world to do so. Well, he was the only one besides himself who'd touched it for only God knew how long. Time ran differently here – rather, he guessed it did. Maybe it just felt like an eternity.

He pictured what was beneath that mask of his, a skull, a flaming skull that spat out lava of some sort. He didn't look down at the twist of the ninja's wrist, the thumb rubbing the head of his penis in the way that usually had him biting his bottom lip as his body betrayed him. He stared at the ridges of the mask in front of him, grit his teeth and let his mind wander to his worst memories, to tabloids that only pissed him off and when he felt dangerously close to giving in to the pleasure that Scorpion knew all too well how give, he was forced to think of how he had clearly seen his friends as he jumped headlong into the last fight he would ever have. He thought of his last moments alive, grimacing at the memory.

Seeing the expression, Scorpion stopped. It was only then that Johnny realized he had closed his eyes. He opened them to milky white eyes mere inches from his own eyes. He jerked back but hit the bed before he could get too far. He swallowed with some effort, glancing down at his lap. Scorpion had released him, and he tried to feel smug about his success but only felt faintly ill from the memory that lingered like a bad taste in his mouth. The cave was gone and fresh air had never felt so stale, freedom of choice, freedom to attack had never felt so foreboding. He'd never felt so out matched, so weak, so…

The slap not only whipped his head to the side, it also emptied his mind of everything, everything except the sting on his cheek, the twinge in his neck that he was sure meant he'd actually gotten whiplash, and pure disbelief.

The words came slowly, just as slowly as he turned to face Scorpion. Every word was its own question. "Did you just pimp slap me?"

The ninja had an impeccable poker face because Johnny never saw nor did he expect the next slap, an actual backhand across his face. One moment he was looking at Scorpion, the next he was staring at the cave wall. His eyes widened and he worked his jaw open and closed. His face had actually gone numb.

"You just pimp slapped me!" he stated again. Saying it a second time made it no easier to comprehend.

Scorpion looked pleased with himself even when Johnny caught his wrist, stopping him from getting a third slap to connect.

"Bull. Shit." Johnny punched him with everything he had. There was a crunch that he hoped meant he'd somehow broken the ninja's face but figured he hadn't been that lucky when they ended up grappling on the floor instead of with Scorpion hunched over a broken nose. Johnny made sure to keep the ninja's hands preoccupied and away from 'little Johnny' because that was always a concern when fighting half-nude. It meant there was considerably less fighting than there was rolling on the ground while basically free-form arm wrestling.

Scorpion flipped him onto his back and before Johnny could even get his bearings, the ninja stepped on his groin, the heel of his boot squashing his balls with a purpose, a purpose which had to be killing him in the most painful way possible. Johnny immediately curled towards his foot, trying his best to relieve the pressure to no avail. "Oh, God!" He couldn't think for the all the pain.

Scorpion bent forward and whispered in his ear. "I'll just have to get rid of it then."

"No," he groaned and it sounded more like a series of consonants featuring the letter 'g' more than anything. He was going to pass out. He wanted to pass out. Anything was better than the unbelievable pressure. His balls were going to pop. He was just about to force himself to black out when Scorpion reduced the pressure.

Johnny squirmed and Scorpion gave him the illusion of escape before he repositioned his foot and focused on his penis instead of his balls. "This is worse! This is worse!"

"This is useless." The gravelly voice seemed to move through his chest.

"Shit, I'll get hard. Just stop fucking crushing my jewels." He knew Scorpion was going easy on him when he had enough presence of mind to wonder what his life meant that that was not the first time he had spoken that particular phrase. He doubted he had the courtesy of a safe word this time around. He doubted that the ninja would stop. It didn't hurt to try though. Nothing could hurt any more than this.

"Cowboys drink sarsaparilla!"

That series of words had its origins in a complicated story that dealt with role-playing, a bit of pony play, words he'd never thought to say, three women – not at the same time of course; the twins refused to let another woman in on the fun – the friend of an old elementary teacher and as with most things, an idea and a challenge Johnny refused to back down from.

"Cowboys drink sarsaparilla." He hated to admit that he sobbed the words out, but his eyes were watering and his body felt like one big exposed nerve that Scorpion was currently poking or rather, crushing with his boot. It did get the ninja off his penis though if only to better give him a blank stare, but with those eyes, Johnny rarely got anything but milky blank stares. He was sure two out of those three words went right over the ninja's head, not that he looked like he particularly cared.

Johnny curled into a ball as quickly as possible, hands held protectively over his groin, as he tried to remember how to breathe. His hands were batted away easily and he blamed panic for the way his hands refused to listen to him.

Scorpion merely grabbed him rougher for his defiance. "It works now."

Johnny stared down at what he was talking about, and God, he was hard. He didn't know how, and it was like accidentally looking at some guy's junk in a porno because he sure as hell didn't think that erection belonged to him. He was sure, however, that he could see the tread from the ninja's boot, and there was definitely going to be bruising later.

Scorpion stroked him roughly once and his whole body jerked at the motion. Now that the panic had lessened, he could see how the edge of pain bordered on pleasure, how the pain was the pleasure. Johnny refused to look at the other man's expression, but he did grab his hand with both of his own, not quite sure if his plan was to actually stop him. He knew he should be trying to.

The decision was taken from him when the familiar feel of leathery skin wrapped around his wrists and ripped them away from his groin. One of the snakes had been loosed from Scorpion's free hand to pin him to the ground while said free hand grabbed a handful of Johnny's hair and jerked it back so that he was forced to meet his captor's eyes. Only when he did did Scorpion restart his ministrations.

Johnny didn't dare look away even when it felt like the ninja's glove was going to rub him raw. His hips were jerking upwards in time already and his chest was heaving. He tried to free his hands, but the snake only tangled itself around him more. Scorpion ducked his head a little; Johnny's vision blurred at his closeness, but he struggled to stay focused. The grip on his hair tightened as well and he moaned when the pain in his scalp seemed to send an impulse of pleasure all the way to his cock. He was so close, but he needed something more.

"Next time-" Scorpion's voice was breathy, breathier than normal. "- you will do as I say." He released his erection long enough to tug and squeeze his balls to the edge of pain. Johnny gasped and his back arched at the sudden change. "Or else," the ninja warned as he took him in hand once and pinched the tip of his cock, "I'll do more than step on it."

Johnny choked out a gasp and bucked his hips, and when Scorpion finally got with the program and tightened his grip more than should have been comfortable, he came, thighs shaking from the effort of straining upwards into his hand. He jerked several more times before the pressure finally did become unbearably tight and he fell bonelessly to the ground. His hands were released and the familiar pins and needles sensation overtook them as blood rushed back. The hand tangled in his hair was removed as well and Johnny finally let himself close his eyes to bask in the addictive buzz of relief and release that flowed through his body.

Distantly, through the dizzying pleasure of the afterglow, he worried that Scorpion was not done with him yet, but the hand that was still on his now softening cock did nothing but hold him. If he let himself think on it, he could already feel an ache in his groin that he knew he would be recuperating from for days.


Johnny didn't have the energy to do anything but glare balefully at him before closing his eyes.

"Next time…" he started, but Johnny cut him off, "Next time won't be an issue."

He figured the answer was vague enough for both of them.


End ficlet

A/N: Don't forget to R/R (Read and Review)!
Fic Review: Sexy!adventures? Yes. Just. Yes. This went on longer than I'd expected although I was tempted to actually make the scene longer. Johnny's a sucker for pain; or at least, Scorpion's making him one.