|Territory Extra: Back in the Confessional
Author: Guede Mazaka
"Okay. I'm the least crazy one of any of us, so why the fuck am I in the goddamn confessional? Again!" For emphasis, Seth whacked his wrist tether into the side until the links had made a nice little row of dents.
Fucking El and his fucking kinks. Which were goddamn contagious as herpes, because Seth hadn't been in here more than ten minutes, and he was already getting hard. Fuck. Not even stupid cat-bastard Sands to snap at, because the other man had gotten himself chained up in the other compartment.
Speak of the feline. Sands' grin popped up by the grating-El must have given the fucker a little more tether slack-and he sniffed like a lady who'd just stomped Prada into dog shit. "What makes you think sanity's a good thing? Maybe we're trying to make you match, square peg."
"Fuck off. It's your fault we're here-yours and Miguel's, and where is that goddamned son of a bitch?" Seth jabbed wildly at the cross-shaped holes, trying to…well, he couldn't poke the other man's eyes out since they were already gone, but he could get that grinning shit down where he couldn't see him. And yeah, maybe he was feeling a bit peeved about Miguel apparently getting out of the shitpile, scot-free.
"El's…" Sands tilted his head. "Coming with the mangy fuck right now, in point of fact. Oh, great."
A moment later, the door on Seth's side slid open and a squirming, cursing Miguel was shoved in and chained to the bench. He flinched when Seth's hands accidentally whacked his hip. Which was interesting.
The door locked, and Seth could hear the epic struggle of El trying to pry Sands out of a small space, but he was a little too preoccupied to care. "Hey. What happened?"
Slipped fingers down Miguel's waistband and watched his eyes go comically wide. "Don't you…oh, Christ, that's good…oh…Mary, Mother of…ah…"
Sensitive bruising. And Miguel was already licking along Seth's tattoos. Okay, this Seth could very happily take.