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Frustrated tears pricked at the corners of Ethan’s eyes. “I just want my daughter back. I’ll do anything to keep her safe.”
Across from him, the scruffy man, Karl Heisenberg, grinned. It wasn’t a nice smile, slimy and a little gross. It made Ethan shiver. “We’ll keep her safe, Ethan. I promise, if you think we can do this without her, then we’ll do it without her.”
Ethan didn’t trust him for a second, but what fucking choice did he have? This was the first somewhat friendly face he’d seen—even if the way Heisenberg looked at him made him feel weird, like he was vivisected, exposed, somehow. “Fine. Then we have a deal.”
Heisenberg held out his gloved hand, and Ethan took it. His grip was a little too strong, a little too threatening, and Ethan’s fingers creaked under the pressure. “Deal, papa. Just you and me.”
After that, he lead Ethan to his living quarters, a studio-apartment type set-up that was nicer than Ethan was expecting. It was old, that much was clear, and the furniture was mismatched, but that was fine. He looked around, taking note of the little kitchen, a side door that must be to a bathroom, a small twin bed tucked in one of the corners.
“Mi casa es su casa, Ethan. Make yourself at home,” Heisenberg said, emerging from the bathroom with a first aid kit. “But let’s get those injuries treated, huh. Don’t want you dying of sepsis.”
Ethan nodded, “Yeah, thanks.” He let the man help him clean and bandage his mangled fingers, wrapping them in a fresh, clean roll of gauze.
“Strip, papa,” Heisenberg commanded, and Ethan balked, shooting a frown at the man.
“Why the hell would I do that?”
Heisenberg looked at him like he was a moron. “I distinctly remember impaling you when we first met. I think that probably needs some TLC.”
Ethan had had such a shit day, he’d honestly forgotten the man had stabbed him with a pipe. He couldn’t even feel where the injury should be, but shrugged, taking off his jacket and stripping off the hoodie and tee he was wearing underneath it. He felt a little self-conscious, his scrawny, soft torso revealed to a man who clearly had a lot of physical power behind his form, if his stocky build didn’t make it obvious.
“My, my, Ethan, you’re just full of surprises,” the man commented, and he felt warm, gloved hands skimming over the flesh of his midsection. Ethan jumped away from him, looking down, before he went over to the full-length mirror in the corner of the room. There was no sign of him having been impaled at all, not even a scar. The flesh that had been pierced was as soft and smooth as it had been before. He ran a hand over the area, incredulous.
“What the fuck.”
“Heh, you have such an interesting body,” Heisenberg said, coming up behind him in the full-length mirror. “I just wanna take you apart and study you.”
Ethan felt something hot coil in his stomach at the way Heisenberg said study , his brain supplying other words that might fit there better, like fuck. “Sick freak.”
“Mm, yeah, call me names,” Heisenberg teased. Ethan was rigid as his hands alighted on Ethan’s bare torso, feeling over the area where he’d been stabbed.
He wanted to pull away, but he couldn't, he was frozen, stuck, staring in the mirror, making eye contact with Heisenberg’s stupid fucking glasses. “Fuck you,” he spat.
Heisenberg smiled, the grin curling the edges of his lips, it made him look handsome, and Ethan cursed himself for noticing it. “How about this. We play together for a little bit, since you’re so riled up, and as long as you don't say stop , I won’t stop.” His big, hot hands squeezed Ethan’s sides, making his heart race. “Think you can do that, Ethan? Just don’t say stop. Just don’t fight me.”
“I-I…Jesus.”
“You look like you need to relax, papa,” Heisenberg purred in his ear. Ethan stiffened as his questing fingers smoothed down his torso, looping in his jeans and pulling him back against the man’s broad, strong frame. He was hot, like a furnace, and Ethan burned for him.
“You’re fucking digusting,” he spat instead. He tried to ignore the way his cock plumped up in his boxers in response to the man’s hands. It had just been so long , since he and Mia were trying for a baby. God, Mia. What would she say if she could see him now? He looked at himself in the old, full-length mirror. He looked pathetic. Taller than Heisenberg, but he felt so much smaller in the man’s presence, like he was an insect underneath his boot.
“Mmm, if I’m sick, what does that make you, papa?” Heisenberg shot back, one hand coming forward to cup Ethan’s cock through his jeans. It made his traitorous dick harden further. He tried to quell the blush that was sliding down his throat, staining his bare chest red with embarrassment. “Because—and tell me if I’m wrong—I think you like this.” He could see Heisenberg’s wicked grin from over his shoulder, the flash of too-sharp teeth. The hand on his dick squeezed, and Ethan’s knees threatened to buckle. “You like it when I call you nasty little names—you can play at being normal all you want, Ethan, but I’ve seen the look in your eyes. You’re a depraved little thing, aren’t you?” A moan broke free of Ethan’s throat, cock twitching. “Yeah, I thought so, sweetheart,” Heisenberg sighed like he was enjoying himself immensely, like he loved taking Ethan apart piece by traitorous piece. His mouth landed on Ethan’s neck, teeth scraping over his pulse point, a sharp counterpoint to the gentle touch of his hand as it undid his belt and unbuttoned his pants. His fingers scratched through Ethan’s blond pubic hair, taking hold of his cock and stroking.
“Fuck,” Ethan breathed out, wanting nothing more than to sit down and think for a second, but his head was so cloudy. Heisenberg didn’t afford him any time to pause and take a breather, though, biting down hard enough that Ethan shouted in surprised pain, arching away from the other man. It felt horrible, he loved it. God, what did he even have to lose? Mia was…Mia was…fuck, she was dead. She didn’t give a damn who he fucked now. “Fuck me, you bastard,” he forced out, watching blood pool in his collarbone from the bite.
He felt the man grin against his neck before he saw it. He kicked the backs of Ethan’s legs, sending him to his knees, cracking against the concrete. Ethan grunted, but he was glad he didn’t have to stand anymore, it was one less thing to focus on. “Get your fuckin’ shoes off, darlin’, I want you to strip for me.” He did as he was told, watching Heisenberg in the mirror as he stroked himself through his pants, a hungry grin on his face. His glasses hid his eyes, but the tilt of his head implied his gaze was fixated on Ethan. It made him feel bad, to have the man looking at him like that. Ethan kicked off his shoes, wiggling out of his pants and underwear, toeing off his socks until he was bare and kneeling on the ground. Heisenberg, however, was still fully dressed in his silly cartoon villain outfit, ridiculous and repulsively attractive. “Good job—knew you’d be good at following orders, Ethan. Mm, now stroke your cock for me, that’s it, sweetheart, nice and slow.”
Ethan blushed a deeper shade of red as he did as he was told, stroking himself off and trying to feel less like a fucking disgusting piece of shit. He bit his lip, trying to hold in his little noises of pleasure as he worked the head of his cock, twisting on the upstroke the way he loved.
“Hm, just like that,” Heisenberg growled, and Ethan cracked his eyes open—when had they fallen shut?—just in time to see the man unbuttoning his own pants, pulling out a cock that, frankly, was a little terrifying. Apparently, the man’s big personality matched his stupid fucking cock. Ethan hated himself for how much he suddenly wanted it inside him. Mia had refused to fuck him with a strap-on, so he hadn’t had a thorough fucking since his college days; he could already feel how much it was going to hurt, god, he was aching for it. Ethan turned away from the mirror, mouth watering as he took in the sight of one of Heisenberg’s gloved hands giving his cock a firm stroke. It was thick and long, unsurprisingly uncut. He was desperate to know what he tasted like, and shame burning in his cheeks, leaned forward to rub his face against it like a fucking dog. Heisenberg just shot him a nasty little grin, slapping it against his cheek and smiling as he rubbed his cock along Ethan’s lips, the salty, bitter taste of precum slipping into his mouth when he licked his lips. Disgusting. Delicious. He tasted like the fucking cigars he’d been smoking nonstop since Ethan had met him, the taste searing itself into his brain, clouding his thoughts further.
Heisenberg shoved a gloved thumb into Ethan’s mouth, leveraging his teeth apart. “You wanna suck my cock, sweetheart? Open up for me, then,” He shoved more of his fingers into Ethan’s mouth, the leather tasting like motor oil against his tongue, and forced his jaw down, until he could fit his cock in too. He waited for a moment, stroking Ethan’s tongue with his gloved fingers, feeling along his teeth. Drool escaped Ethan’s mouth, making the leather shiny, dripping down his chin, messy in the worst way. “Mm, I knew you were gonna look good on your knees, buttercup. Saw your little face in that hallway and knew you were gonna be a good cocksucker. Go ahead, then, show me what a fucking slut you can be.”
His fingers left Ethan’s mouth, and Ethan pounced on his cock like he was ravenous for it. He swallowed down the head, lips stretched as he worked his way down further. He tasted bitter and musky, with a tang of salt that he was sure was never going to leave his tastebuds alone. One of his hands fisted in Heisenberg’s shirt, the other going down to his own cock and giving it a pathetic little squeeze. He moaned around the man’s dick, trying to force himself further onto it. His college experiences weren’t quick to return to him, however, and he gagged, nearly choking when one of Heisenberg’s hands landed on the back of his head and forced him down further, despite his protests. “That’s it, baby, choke on me,” Heisenberg groaned, fisting a hand in Ethan’s hair and tugging him forward. Ethan desperately tried not to throw up, acidic bile rising up his throat as he was fed more of that fat cock, throat constricting and fighting against it.
He gagged again, throat convulsing, and Heisenberg let him up, finally, just in time for Ethan to pull off and retch, spitting up bile and emptying his stomach onto the ground next to them. Ethan coughed, eyes watering, trying to get the disgusting taste of vomit and cock out of his mouth, but Heisenberg had grabbed him and pulled him close again, rutting against his cheek. “Wait, wait,” he pleaded, pushing against the man’s hip.
“Oh, I don’t think so, Ethan, I think you’ve kept me waiting long enough,” Heisenberg shot back, pulling him by the hair until he obediently opened his mouth and let the man guide his cock back in. Ethan gagged again, but he had nothing left to throw up, so it went ignored by both of them. He was crying now, tears streaming down his face, trails of clean lines through the grime on his cheeks. He forced himself deeper on the man’s cock. Swallowing him down until his lips stung with the stretch, his throat working around the intrusion. “Fuck, yes, Ethan, you look fuckin’ perfect like this,” he growled out, and Ethan moaned around his cock, teasing his tongue around the underside as it slid deeper until his nose was buried in coarse salt-and-pepper pubic hair. “I’m gonna ruin you, sweetheart,” he told Ethan conversationally, staring down at him.
Ethan hummed around his cock, choking when Heisenberg thrust his hips forward, working himself somehow deeper . Ethan’s throat was raw and screaming for a break, his lungs empty of air but showing no signs of getting more any time soon. He felt lightheaded, vision blurry as he looked up at Heisenberg, staring at his smarmy grin, the way he bit the corner of his lip. Ethan’s fist worked his own cock harder, determined to get off as much as the other man clearly was. He startled when the man’s hands landed in his hair, holding his head steady, but he cottoned on to what Heisenberg wanted quickly enough, relaxing his jaw and letting the man fuck his throat. It hurt, god, it did, and the taste was awful, like a fucking ashtray, but fuck, it was making him so hard , getting used like that. He worked himself as hard as he dared, fist flying on his own cock as he moaned and gulped and swallowed like a fucking whore. Something in Ethan broke, probably because of the lack of air, so great now that his vision was going dark at the edges. It must have shown on his lax face, because Heisenberg pulled back, let him take deep, gasping breaths, oxygen flooding his cells and making him burn . He dove back for he man’s cock, swallowing him down again until his throat ached with the strain of it, but he ignored it in favor of groaning, tasting precum and vomit and musky sweat as he took Heisenberg in, drool running down his chin and neck as the man fucked his throat has hard as he could without permanently damaging something.
“Mm, Ethan ,” Heisenberg gasped out, hands fisting in his hair, pulling at the blond strands. Ethan moaned in response, hand a blur as he jacked himself off. “Fuck, Ethan, I’m gonna cum,” the man groaned, grinding his hips into Ethan’s face, smashing the man’s nose into his abdomen. “Gonna make you take it all, sweetheart,” he said by way of warning. Ethan redoubled his efforts, tongue teasing the underside of the man’s cock as best as he could, catching the tip every time it pulled back from his poor, abused throat. Heisenberg’s fist was painful in his hair, gripping hard, and suddenly he was pulling back, one of his hands flying to his cock to stroke himself off, a deep, satisfied moan leaving his throat as he came all over Ethan’s face, marking the man. Ethan’s mouth was still open, catching his seed, salty and bitter and disgusting, and he swallowed it down eagerly, cumming into his own fist at the taste of it. He moaned weakly, throat aching, and tried to summon up some disgust at his actions in the wake of his orgasm. He was still a little fuzzy, though, probably due to the lack of oxygen to his brain.
“That was perfect, darlin’,” Heisenberg told him, the fist still in his hair dragging his head to the side so he could rub the last string of cum off against his dirty cheek. He looked down, seeing Ethan’s fist around his cock, the cum that dripped down over his fingers. “Knew you would get off on that, you dirty little slut. Say it. Tell me you’re a disgusting fucking whore.” The fingers tightened in his hair, tugging him around to look in the mirror again.
God, he was a wreck. Spit trailed down his chin and neck, his lips were raw and swollen and red—well fucked. Ethan’s remaining sense of pride balked, but was beaten down by the fresh well of arousal that the man’s words summoned up. This was what he needed, someone to treat him the way he deserved, like fucking garbage—like the lowest scum of the earth. That’s what he was, after all. For doing this when he’d just seen his wife get murdered, while his baby girl was in pieces . “I-I’m a disgusting fucking w-whore,” he parroted, leaning against the man’s hand where it rested on his head. He tried not to look himself in the eyes in the mirror, looking up at Heisenberg’s strong, strong frame instead.
“I’m gonna fuck you good and hard, Ethan,” he told the man. “Gonna make you wish you hadn’t agreed to this,” that nasty, slimy grin was back, spitting his face, pulling at the scar on his lips. It sent heat pooling in Ethan’s gut despite the recent orgasm.
“Fuck me,” he pleaded, and Heisenberg dropped to his knees behind Ethan, taking him by the neck and tugging him until the pale flesh was exposed.
Heisenberg laughed, the noise low and dark. “You’re fucking perfect, sweetheart,” he said, squeezing Ethan’s throat before letting him go. The way that made his dick jump was not lost on either one of them, and Ethan flushed red. “Mm, you like that, do you? Don’t give me a fuckin’ excuse to wring your neck, baby.”
“S-shut up, Heisenberg,” Ethan replied, his voice scratchy, throat raw and scraped, still stinging with the acidic aftertaste of vomit. Heisenberg grinned at him and shoved him forward. The unexpected move had Ethan’s cheek crashing into the dirt, one hand planting firmly on his back and keeping him from getting back up.
“Mm, I don’t think I will, buttercup,” Heisenberg said, and Ethan watched him strip off one of his gloves in the mirror, tossing it to the side. “See, I have a theory. I think you like it when I talk bad about you. I see the way your cute little prick jumps, don’t bother lying to me.” he grabbed Ethan by the hips, tugging him up until his ass was on display. It was humiliating, and Ethan tried to turn his head away from the mirror so he didn’t have to watch, but Heisenberg’s fingers twisted themselves in his hair, tugging his head up and forcing him to watch. “Keep looking,” he ordered. “Or we’re going to stop right here.”
Ethan obeyed, and the man’s hand left his hair, then he left altogether, getting up and going to rifle through a drawer. Ethan sat there, ass up, face scraping the concrete floor, and felt so fucking used that tears burned in his eyes. He’d never felt so bad in all his life. He’d never felt so good, either. Heisenberg came back, kneeling next to him, a modern-looking bottle of lube in his hands—Ethan almost laughed imagining him purchasing it from the Duke, but all that came out was a hysterical little noise, breathy and gasping, as the man covered two fingers in lube and roughly spread it around his asshole.
It was cold, and he winced, making Heisenberg laugh. “Ready, Ethan?” the man asked, “I’m not going to go easy on you.” Ethan nodded, cheek scraping the ground, and Heisenberg hummed, “Good boy.” Ethan’s cock jumped pathetically at the praise, already fully hard despite the recent orgasm. He was shocked out of his embarrassment by Heisenberg slipping both of those calloused fingers inside him, rough and perfect. He didn’t waste any time, working them in and out, dragging the digits along his oversensitive walls until Ethan was panting, open-mouthed, his hips pushing back into the sensation despite the stinging pain that came with it.
“You take it well, Ethan,” Heisenberg commented, grinning at Ethan in the mirror before his eyes were drawn back to the way Ethan’s body clutched at him every time he tried to draw his fingers back. “I can’t wait to be inside you, you’re so fuckin’ tight, gonna feel amazing around my cock.” Ethan moaned, clenching around the man’s fingers as he speared him with a third. Ethan’s body convulsed when he curled the digits down, thumb pressing into his taint and nailing his prostate dead-on.
“Fuck, oh god, again!” he moaned out, fingers scrabbling at the floor as Heisenberg massaged his prostate, “Please don’t stop.”
“You’re fuckin’ perfect, Ethan,” Heisenberg told him, pressing harder against his prostate until pleasure bled into pain and he was squirming beneath the man’s hands, trying to escape the confusing onslaught of sensation. His cock spurted weakly, cum dripping down onto the concrete floor, and Heisenberg laughed at him, making humiliated tears spring in his eyes, running down his cheeks and onto the floor. “Knew you would sound so fuckin’ pretty, singing for me.” He flexed his fingers in Ethan’s ass, stretching him out. “That’s as much as you’re getting, sweetheart,” he warned. “Gonna fuck you now.”
“Please, please,” Ethan begged, though he didn’t know what he was begging for. Heisenberg’s fingers withdrew, leaving him feeling hollowed out and empty. He groaned at the loss, but the man was back just as quickly, the lubed-up head of his cock teasing at Ethan’s hole.
“Don’t forget to scream for me, Ethan,” Heisenberg ordered, and then he was slipping in and settling deep in Ethan’s guts. He obeyed the order, a choked scream leaving his mouth as he arched under the man’s hold, insides clenching and roiling as the man’s cock forced its way further in. He felt like he was being split in half, it was awful, it was perfect. Tears ran down his face where it was pressed into the ground, his arms limp, unable to take his weight. His dick gave a confused twitch, his body taking the pain and transforming it into pleasure, a delicious, overly full feeling radiating through him. “Fuckin’ perfect,” Heisenberg breathed, slipping in the last few critical inches until his hips met the soft, yielding flesh of Ethan’s ass.
Ethan clawed at the floor as he started to thrust, building up a rhythm that was too hard too fast. It left Ethan reeling, scrabbling for something to cling to. Heisenberg’s nails cut into the supple flesh of his hips, his fingers leaving red marks that were surely going to bruise. The man leveraged himself up over Ethan, trailing kisses and bites down his back, leaving him bloody and marked up. It was raw and it hurt and Ethan wanted more. Fuck, he needed more. He needed it so bad-
“Hush, sweetheart,” Heisenberg soothed, only sounding a little bit mocking. “I’ve got you, Ethan, you can trust me.” Ethan choked on a sob, shoulders shaking at the man fucked him faster, harder, meaner. His thoughts were swirling, caught in an endless march of overstimulated pleasure as Heisenberg’s cock speared past his prostate with every thrust, settling so deep he could feel the strain in his guts to take the man in. He’d never been fucked like this before, like it was going to kill him, oh god he was going to die. “Shh, Ethan,” Heisenberg shushed him, seeming unsurprised at Ethan’s breakdown. “Gonna fuck you good, sweetheart.” Something that wasn’t as rough or as mean as he’d been before was shining through, like he was genuinely worried about him. It was almost sweet that Heisenberg had taken him all the way to the edge of his breaking point with masterful hands, but now that he’d gotten him there, he seemed well equipped to soothe him with the same hands that had riled him up. Ethan didn’t want it soft, though.
“Be gentle with me after,” he forced out through another sob, “I need you to h-hurt me.”
“Yeah, Ethan?” the man asked, crooking a brow at him. “I’ve got you, sweet thing. You need me rough?” he slapped Ethan’s ass, hard, making him jolt and tighten up, “I’ll give it to you rough.”
“Yes, yes,” Ethan cried as Heisenberg’s thrusts picked up, punishing and painful. He could hardly keep his body up, the sheer force of the man’s hips hitting his ass so hard it actually hurt. He felt pinned beneath Heisenberg, the man’s jacket falling over him like a shroud, the rough material of his pants grazing the backs of Ethan’s soft thighs. It was perfect, exactly what he needed, what he’d been craving. His eyes slipped shut, focusing on the stretch, the impossible fullness of it.
He was brought back to himself by a hand closing around his throat. His cock jumped as Heisenberg’s hand squeezed , cutting off his air with ease. The man’s hand was big and hot around his throat, forcing the breath from his lungs as he planted the other hand next to Ethan’s head, leveraging himself for some truly brutal thrusts that had Ethan crying out in high-pitched “ah, ah, ah!”s of pleasure, leaving his lungs aching with the strain. His vision went spotty, eyes slipping shut, and the hand loosened up, leaving him to drag in great gulps of air, desperate. His cock was twitching, precum dripping liberally, god, he’d never been so hard. The force of Heisenberg’s hand around his throat was amazing , transcendent, almost. He felt exposed, on that knife’s edge of consciousness, and the man’s hand tightened again, constricting around his throat, tugging him up so he could stare at his own ruined face in the mirror.
Ethan was red in the face, purpling with lack of air, his mouth open and gasping, eyes wet and swollen and pathetic looking. “Look at you, Ethan,” Heisenberg teased. “Such a cute look you’ve got on your face. Gettin’ a little cock-drunk, maybe? Seems like it’s been a while since your tight little ass has gotten any action.” Ethan could only nod desperately, feeling the man’s hand crush his windpipe, bruising the sensitive flesh of his throat. He squeezed harder, his grin turning dangerous, “You’ve delivered yourself on a silver platter, Ethan. I could kill you right now, and I bet you’d thank me, wouldn’t you, you little whore?” He spit the question out, squeezing tighter and tighter, and for a terrifying second, Ethan thought he was actually going to kill him—it made his cock jump, his body betraying what his mind thought of that prospect. He brought one of his shaking hands to his cock, giving it desperate, quick strokes, feeling like he was on pins and needles. He was making eye contact with his reflection, watching teats spill in his dull, glazed-over eyes. He was pathetic, he was perfect . Heisenberg squeezed a little tighter, thrust just right , and Ethan was falling over the edge with a soundless shout, cumming into his fist with a pitiful little shiver. He could hardly keep his eyes open, his lungs felt like they were collapsing, but he kept stroking his oversensitive dick until it hurt so bad he couldn’t stand it. As he pulled his hand away from his cock, Heisenberg finally let his throat go and he collapsed to the floor, falling on his face with a wordless whimper.
“Fuck, Ethan, you’re so perfect,” Heisenberg growled out, following him down and gnawing on his shoulder, leaving bleeding, crescent-shaped impressions of his too-sharp teeth. His hips were still working, rough where he forced his cock into Ethan, but Ethan took it without complaint, mewling as he tried to move his hips back into the thrusts. His cock was spent, but there was a numb, hypnotically open feeling spreading through him, turning his brain into mush. All he knew was that Heisenberg’s cock felt amazing, forced deep into his guts, rutting into him like an animal. Ethan’s mangled left hand reached out, grasping at Heisenberg’s where it was planted next to his head. He needed to ground himself, and he was surprised when the man flipped his hand over, lacing their fingers together.
It was soft, a stark difference from the mean way his hips slammed into Ethan’s, rubbing his guts raw. He felt tears prick at his eyes again. How could a man so mean be so nice ? Ethan’s free hand came up to tangle in Heisenberg’s hair, pulling him tight to his body, “Cum for me,” he whispered, his voice reedy and wrecked, throat protesting every word.
Ah, shit, Ethan ,” Heisenberg moaned, thrusting hard once, twice, three times, before he was pulling out and coming, shooting a line of semen up Ethan’s spent back. With his free hand, he stroked himself through it, marking Ethan up as fully as he could, with bites and bruises and his seed.
“Fuck, you’re really something,” he panted, trying to catch his breath. Underneath him, Ethan moaned, finally getting his tears under control. He sniffled, feeling aching and bruised and hurt, but oh-so satiated. “C’mere, Ethan,” Heisenberg said, hauling the man into a hug, seeming not to care that he was sticky with their various fluids. “My poor papa, you’ve been through so much. Did it feel good to let go?”
“Yes,” Ethan replied, his voice scratchy.
Heisenberg nodded, like that had been what he was expecting. “Knew that’s what you needed. Sometimes we need a good hard reset, a good cry.” He was a totally different person from the man he’d started fucking, and if Ethan had more energy, he’d have been more surprised at the transformation. Instead, he buried his face in the man’s neck, breathing in the scent of heavy machinery and smoke.
“Thank you.”
“Don’t have to thank me, sweet thing,” Heisenberg said with a laugh, “I got just as much out of that as you did.” He let Ethan go briefly, tucking himself back into his pants and doing up the button before he lifted Ethan like he weighed nothing. “Let’s get you cleaned up, papa, and then we can talk game plans for taking down Miranda and getting little Rose back. I think I’ve got something for you to eat in the kitchen, too…”
The man kept talking, but Ethan didn’t focus on what he was saying, wrapping an arm around the man’s neck and pulling him into a kiss that tasted like smoke and vomit and salt. Heisenberg took it without complaint, returning the kiss with a grin that wasn’t nearly as slimy as the first one he’d given Ethan.
“Yeah? Let’s add some mouthwash to that list of things to do.”
Ethan punched him in the chest. “Shut up.”