Rescue? Is it really happening? [AC] (Tag Dillon)

Marcus was already on duty for the night. His shift normally started early as he was a greatly requested toy for the underground BDSM. Tonight he only had one job, but it was a high paying one...and not to mention big group. From what he had understand it was going to be a mixture of male and female, some of the best kinds in his opinion. He was currently laying out on the bed fully naked. A leather collar around his neck, a leather band around his wrists with a single hook on them, and two similar bands on his ankles. The room's bed was so large that some have named it the orgy bed. Which is an accurate name considering the room size.

Upon the ceiling of the room were four larger loops with a strip of leather coming down from each one with a clasp at the end. One for each of the loops on the bands on Marcus appendages. To the left hand side of the room as the person entered would be a walk in closet where with in would be a wide variety of toys that the customers would be able to use on him. His eyes were slightly glossed over as he was preparing himself for the events.

A few moments later, he would hear a large group outside of his door. Some of the voices seemed to be arguing, and as the door opened he would hear it was an argument about who would be taking him first. As they entered he felt they were a variety of shifter species, and even one vampire tonight. All alpha's, and the vampire held himself like a Master. He licked his lips slowly to moisten them as he waited for the group to be ready to use him as they wanted. The group was about six in total, and that meant three at a time or five at a time...depending on how they were going to set him up.

"I say let Veronica use his cock first. She hasn't had anything longer then the rest of us, and she really does enjoy them thick like this one's suppose to be," one male said that felt like a wolf in Marcus head. Another one growled and as he focused on the direction the feel of another lion filled his head. His own lion stretched a bit as it sensed another of it's kind, having been some time since he had felt another lion about.

"I should get it first as a fellow lion," he growled out before licking his lips, "young Beta lion is so good on the tongue." He said as a desire filled his voice.

"If anyone gets his dick first," spoke up the vampire in a rich french accent, "it will be our dear rat. He did the best job out of all of you on getting the deal." He said in a mild tone, but it held power with in. The others fell quiet at that, and then the vampire walked over to him. He turned Marcus head this way and that as he examined, "Mmmm...such a clean body...only the one scar...perhaps we'll change that tonight." He said with a smirk as he let Marcus head go, and then walked away.

"Set him up. I'm sure his ass and mouth will be eager for two more of you other than the rat playing with him," he said with a wave of his hand. The group moved forward as one almost as they started to hook him up and then pull the straps to lift him off the bed a bit. The vampire had taken the only seat with in the room to watch as the shifters began to strip for the fun.

For the first time in a very long time, Dillon was angry. Not irked, not annoyed, but well and truly pissed off. He'd come home to rejoin the pride after a couple years of studying all over Greece and Rome only to find that not only was his Rex dead because of the ridiculous war -replaced by his long ago lover- but that the Pride itself had scattered. Thus far he and Alaric had done alright rounding up the lost members, giving them shelter and letting them know they would be taken care of and protected. But there were still a few unaccounted for. The most important of which for Dillon was Marcus; the cub he'd taken under his paw those years ago. Helped him get out of the bad crap he'd been in and taught him safer ways to get his kinks.

But when the Pride had crumbled, he'd apparently been left to his own devices. No one to keep him safe and keep him grounded. He'd fallen back in with a bad crowd, to let himself be used and abused in the worst ways. It had taken some hard tracking to find out just where in the city he was and where all of this mess took place but he'd located him all on his own and he was on his way right now to drag him out by his hair if he had to. And kick a few heads in while he was at it. Did these people not know that Marcus was unable to say when enough was enough? Did they know he couldn't say no? Or did they just not fucking care? He was betting on the latter and it fueled his anger all he more.

He'd told Alaric vaguely what he was up to. That he'd found a lead on one of their lost kittens and was following it. But he hadn't told him where or anything else. This one he needed to bring in alone. He'd dressed the part too. Poured-on leather pants, under which were sturdy black leather motorcycle boots. A wide, heavy black leather belt from which hung a custom made flogger that few knew he could actually wield quite well; even with its uncustomary long length. The suede strands slid and flicked against his leg as he walked and trailed all the way to his ankle. Over the whole ensemble, despite the current heat, was a fitted and full-length black leather trench with Celtic knotwork done down the back and on the lapels in emerald green. He was very proud of his coat, he'd designed it himself. His hair was slicked back and in one hand he carried a thick leather collar that looked well-worn but well taken care of. He'd had to condition it to look that way but so long as it was convincing it was worth the effort.

He was ready and raring to go. And, tonight, he didn't give a damn what went down so long as he got Marcus back. He wanted him safe. It was his own damned fault that the kid had had nowehere to turn when everything went down. If he'd still been around instead of off chasing myths... maybe things would have turned out differently. And he hoped that Marcus could forgive him. But first, to get him back. The only way he could right now. And that was to play the cuckold of a Master. To reclaim and punish he unfaithful slave boy. The things he did for this kid...

What Dillon would walk in on would not be a pleasant site. Marcus back was clawed up with three long gashes, and the blood oozed and trickled down his side. His jagged scar on the front was also re-opened following the pattern exactly. There were white splotches scattered over his back, and on the wounds as well as over his ass...his face, and hair. The wounds weren't healing that great...being a standard Beta, when it came to other shifter wounds it was just a little faster then human rate healing.

His breathing was jagged from a combination of pain, and pleasure. His brown eyes were glazed over, and his head was currently being held up by the rat shifter as he forced his cock down his throat. The Vampire had finally come to take his turn as he had his hips pressed firmly into his ass for just a moment before he was pulling out of him. The female was underneath Marcus, enjoying the subtle drips of his blood falling onto her own nude body as she took in his large 9.5" length, and about 2.5 inches wide. The whole group had been pleased at how well sized he was. They had been afraid that for his good looks, he'd be puny. As she pulled off the length, anyone at the door would see that his cock had been cut enough to bleed decently while he was hard. Not too much, but enough to enjoy while he was in one's mouth.

The other three were laying around and under his body, enjoying the blood that dripped into their mouth's as they stroke themselves to give them added pleasure. In the midst of this all, Marcus felt a familiar rush. A familiar aura that he had privately missed. Dillon. Is he really coming? Marcus asked himself as he worked his mouth over the hard flesh in his mouth, Dillon... he thought before quickly pushing it out of his mind. He had hoped so much in the past that he would come, he had imagined that same aura multiple times only to be disappointed. He wasn't going to let himself get built up again...not again. He could not handle the agony of being wrong once again...

The scents of sex and blood were all around him as he made his way toward the room that he knew would hold Marcus and who knew how many others. The nearer he came, the stronger the scent of the kitten's blood alone and that made him positively furious. Reaching the door he didn't even bother to knock. He kicked it open, tearing it from its hinges, and stepped inside; letting his power flare to the surface and letting everyone in the room know that he had the status to back him. Had the power to take them on.

Under other circumstances, seeing Marcus all torn up like that might have made him feel sick to his stomach. Disgusted at the ones who'd done it to him and disgusted with himself for letting it happen by being absent from the kitten's life. But there was no room for that right now. He let his raw fury fill him and spill over so that they would know damn well he wasn't to be trifled with. His eyes surveyed the room as he ignored the shouts and protests of his presence and he pinned every single one of them in turn with a piercing glare. "I believe," he said coldly. "That you are damaging my property without my consent."

Before anyone could say a word of protest he lifted a hand to silence them and held out the leather collar that would be a perfect fit to Marcus' neck. "It seems he's decided to play with others in my absence and for that he will be severely punished. If you try to stop me from taking back what is mine, then you will have the Rex to contend with; as he will no doubt be furious to find that one of his Pride has been so abused." His cold eyes flicked to the other lion in the room aside from himself and Marcus and he pinned him with his gaze. "As his Second, I could very well have you brought in to be tried as a rogue. And for not only consorting with what I can only assume are other rogues, but vampires. As well as knowingly subjecting one of your own species, protected by the pride, to harm at their hands and your own." Again he looked at them all menacingly. "So. Do you give me what's mine or do you force my hand? I could very well have the Rex whisper in the ears of the other clan leaders and have them hunt the rest of you down. Quite easily, in fact."

He was dreaming. He was dreaming that Dillon was there...that he was claiming to be his master. That he just looked so damn hot right then in those pour on leather pants, and his outfit. He couldn't recall if he had ever seen him like that before in his life...so of course it was a dream. Then he noticed how the others were stopping what they were doing to him, and pulling away. His body was literally vibrating from the sensitivity of pain and pleasure.

"D-Dillon?" he croaked out in what easily passed as fear as he started to realize that he wasn't dreaming. He then looked at him better, looked at the collar, and then the situation. It was then that he realized he really was being rescued. Rescue from both heaven and hell. Before he knew it, he felt hot tears running down his face. His hand, despite being hooked up at the moment, was desperately trying to reach him. He just wanted to feel his mentor's arms around him right then. To break down, to kiss him...to show him how grateful he was that he was there.

He had always thought he'd be angry when he saw Dillon again. Maybe he would be later, but right now he wanted out there. His face for the most part was still blank...schooled and trained to only show the emotion that his 'masters' wanted. However his eyes were pleading. Begging to be taken away as his blood continued to drip beneath him and on the bed.

The female of the group however didn't seem to be as afraid. "We paid for his use tonight. You can have him back when we are done," she said. Everyone in the room felt weaker than Dillon himself, except for her. She was probably closer to it and she tasted like Heyna. She then stared him down to show she wasn't going to be that easy of a person to back down from.

Dillon was glad to see that the other shifters seemed to have enough sense in their heads to see that he was dead serious and a hell of a lot more powerful than they. But this female... she was trouble. While it was normally his policy to be a gentleman when it came to females, this one was no lady and she was outright challenging his claim; which just was not done unless you wanted a solid beatdown. He wouldn't beat her up but he would most definitely exert his dominance and put her in her place right in front of the others to show that he wasn't messing around.

Ignoring Marcus' hoarse vocalizations he strode forward into the room and grabbed the wayward female by the hair, jerking her from the bed. He tossed the heavy leather collar onto Marcus' back and, with a curt glance from him, the other shifters and even the vampire began the process of freeing the kitten from his bonds. Which, of course, the female seemed to take umbrage to. "You paid for something that was not yours so it is no fault of mine if you don't get your money's worth." She started to claw at him and his other hand was suddenly at her throat, shifted so that the razor sharp claws dug into her tender flesh; just barely breaking skin.

She stilled thankfully. He would not have enjoyed having to tear her throat out. "The Oba would not take kindly to you trying to start an outright war with the Pride, now would she?" he hissed. "I don't care if you are part of her Cackle or not, she will hunt you down for this if she gets wind of it. The only reason I do not kill you now is because I would not deprive her of the privilege." His claws dug in more so that small rivulets of blood began to trickle down her chest and he growled. "And since you seem to have volunteered yourself, you can take his place for the evening." he said, cocking his head in Marcus' direction.

The Hyena struggled but with another increase of pressure from his claws she froze and Dillon turned his head to look at Marcus. "Get up." he commanded curtly. "And be sure you don't misplace your collar again." Once he complied, he looked to the others as he forced the Hyena down onto the bed where Marcus had been. "Bind her," he ordered and it was done despite the wench's protests and threats. "She is your entertainment for the rest of the night." he said, wiping his hands on a clean corner of the sheets and retracting his claws. "However soiled she may be, you deserve no better."

Turning to Marcus, he made a show of forcing the younger male to his knees and holding out a hand for the collar. Once it was placed in his hand, he fastened it securely around the kitten's neck and looped a finger through the steel ring at the front, dragging him to his feet and marching out the door with him. He would have loved to gently clean him off and clothe him before just dragging him out but that would give the game away and he couldn't do that just yet. He needed them to be safely away from this place before he could do anything of the sort.

Luckily, he'd had the foresight to bring extra clothes and a towel because he'd expected some kind of mess. He hadn't brought bandages, unfortunately, but they'd be able to properly clean and tend to him once they reached his apartment. And he would apologize adamantly for having to treat him this way...

Once they reached his car, he let go of the loop and opened the back passenger door to retrieve the towel and the jeans and tee he'd brought. They would probably be a bit big on Marcus but he didn't think he'd mind. "Clean off as best you can..." he said softly. "Then get dressed. I'm taking you home to my place and I don't want to hear any lip about it. You can lie down in the back seat if it'll be more comfortable. But you will be getting in the car if I have to throw you in. We are getting the hell out of here."

Marcus collapsed on the bed as he was taken off the straps. He crawled out of bed slowly, wincing as his muscles were stiff from the position. He watched as Dillon asserted his dominance, and the show frightened him. It was rougher then he had seen with his alpha, and he shrank in a little as the scent of fear rose up off of him a little.

When he was ordered to Dillon's feet, he quickly complied. He didn't want that anger directed at him. He winced a bit as he was forcefully shoved down, and he handed the collar up to him that he had grabbed on instinct earlier. The leather collar around his neck felt comforting, but he nearly yelped out as he was forced to his feet.

He was glad that the bitch was the one to get used now. She had been the one to slice him where he was most tender. He was still rock hard, but at least he wasn't bleeding as badly now. He followed after Dillon, not that he had much choice at this point, and kept his eyes down.

Upon reaching his car, he was a little surprised at the sudden change of attitude. "Y-you aren't really mad?" He asked a bit surprised as he then began to carefully clean himself up. He would have to shower to get his injuries cleaned out, and the mess in his hair. However he did wipe down enough so that he wouldn't cover the clothing in blood. They were too big, but he was glad they were. Just the bits that touched his wounds stung and caused him to wince.

He then flinched a bit as Dillon said he was getting in to the car one way or another. "Alright," he said, eyes still lowered as he then slipped into the passenger side of the car. He leaned forward a bit, and to the side. Trying to keep as much pressure off his back and chest. His eyes were still glazed but not as badly as before now that the rush was going down. He listened as Dillon walked around and took the drivers seat of the car. He remained silent as he wasn't sure what he wanted to do first. Thank him, cry, or beg for a kiss so he could forget the taste of the the men from back in the club.

It had pained the Alpha to see and scent the fear in Marcus as he'd put on his little show. He'd wanted to pull the kitten to him and cuddle him to let him know it was all okay. But doing so would have blown his cover and he'd needed to get him out of there as efficiently as possible. Alaric was probably aware by now where he had gone and would doubtless be wanting an explanation. If he wasn't already waiting at Dillon's apartment he had no delusions that he wouldn't soon make an appearance. If he didn't, it would be a small miracle. The Alpha wasn't sure just how fragile Marcus was at the moment. Or how well he would be able to handle the presence of the Rex just yet. But he would call the domineering German to at least let him know all was well. Aside from the rogue he'd seen down there in the club.

A tawny brow quirked at Marcus' query and he shook his head. "Oh, I'm angry as hell. Mainly at myself for not being there to ensure that this shit didn't happen to you... But we'll talk about that when we get home." he said quietly and stood by as the younger cat cleaned himself. Just in case he needed help. But he pulled it off on his own and dressed without issue. Dillon tossed the dirty towel in the back seat and closed the door as Marcus opted to sit up front with him. He made his way to the driver's seat and gave the boy's hand a slight squeeze to let him know without words that it was going to be okay and he started the engine up.

Luckily he lived in an area of town where cars weren't a nuisance to drive. There still weren't many but he wouldn't be without one. Especially not when he'd been half expecting to have to haul an unconscious body around. Or maybe even a crippled one. He'd had no way of knowing what condition Marcus would be in so he'd driven. Right now he picked his phone up from the console and flipped it open, speed dialing Alaric as he drove. He didn't really like to phone and drive but he didn't live far anyway and he sooner he called his Rex he better. He didn't know how angry -if at all- he would be and he didn't want to make anything worse on Marcus. He himself could take it but not Marcus.

Much to his dismay, the Rex did indeed pick up and he sighed into the phone. He always answered like he knew he'd be calling and it irked him. "Yes, Alaric, it's me." he said, speaking in English so that Marcus would understand and not have any assumptions about being in trouble. Marcus had always liked his accent. "And I think you already know what I've been up to so let's cut the crap. I've got him, safe and sound. Had to claim him as my property and throw your title around to manage it without a bloodbath but I've got him, he's safe if not unharmed, and I'm taking him to my place tonight whether you like it or not."

There was a pause as the Rex responded and he snarled softly. "Absolutely not. He's in no condition to meet ya right now and that's a piss-poor excuse to use for barging inta my apartment. Ye're not comin' over tonight and that's foocking that, d'ya hear me?" he spat. His accent was thicker now as he was getting a bit riled by the conversation. "If I seeya tonight I'm kickin' your arse!" With that he flipped the phone closed and dropped it back into the center console. "That was the Rex." he said quietly. "You'll meet him later."

Marcus squirmed in his seat as he listened to Dillon's side of the conversation. He could have eaves dropped if he wanted, but he felt like he was in enough trouble as it was. He did however listen to Dillon's voice. Hearing that Irish accent helped relax him so he wasn't so tense. He looked over as he got off the phone, and when he learned that was the Rex he had been talking to, his mouth fell open in a large O of shock. The tension he had lost jumped right back up. "T-that was the Rex?! And you spoke to him like that?!" Marcus asked nearly squeaking it out. He then began to feel panic start up with in him.

"T-tonight?" he asked, not wanting to meet him tonight, but he would if that was how it would be. He'd take it. He could say no to the Rex. Though...he supposed it was good knowing they had a new Rex now. Maybe that meant the pride was getting back together too? Some would be happy to see him back he was sure...and not because they were his friends.

His hand had gripped at Dillon's from squeeze, but when he started the call up and made the phone call he had clasped his hands together and shoved them between his legs. "What's going to happen to me?" he asked quietly and looking out the window. His hair was sticking up a little like a slight case of bed hair. It would fall into place with that light curl after he washed it up.

Dillon had to choke back a laugh as Marcus damn near panicked over how he'd talked to the Rex. Though amusement was plain to see on his face. As was the fact that he was trying to contain it. But hey, letting that much show would probably alleviate some of Marcus' worries which was what he wanted. "Yes, that was the Rex. Alaric. We go way back actually so I can get away with talking to him like that." He paused a moment then gave Marcus a sideways grin. "Remember the punk I told you about that took my virginity? And infected me? Well. That's the new Rex."

He knew Marcus would remember the stories he'd told about him and the older lion. Fond and amusing stories about how they'd met, how Alaric had dominated him and taken him, staking his claim then and there. His efforts to resist falling for the German's arrogant charms that had failed so miserably. Alaric had been his first and thusfar only love. At least in the sense of mates. But damned if he'd admit to it. He'd even told him of he night Alaric had shifted on him during sex, resulting in his infection... and in being forbidden to ever see him again. Not that he could have if he'd been able to. Alaric had gone back home and he was left with only memories. Part of why he was so sore over everything.

However at Marcus' frantic query as to when he would meet Alaric, Dillon sobered and shook his head. "No, you're not meeting him tonight. He wanted to come over to meet you," bullshit if ever Dillon heard it. "But I told him no. You need a decent night's rest first." He looked over at Marcus as they pulled up to his apartment and reached over to give his hand another squeeze. "What's going to happen is that you're going to be taken care of and protected. And this time I'm not going anywhere. You've got my solemn promise on that one, lad. I'll keep you safe this time."

When he learned that the new Rex was Alaric....THE Alaric his mouth fell open yet again. He did relax upon seeing Dillon not worry so much about what would happen for it, and further relaxed when he assured him he would not be meeting the Rex that night. When he mentioned a good rest, he suddenly felt achy, and the wounds seemed to flare up. He groaned a bit as he hugged himself and swallowed a bit. "Alright...though...could we hurry? I need out of these clothes. They're really irritation the cuts..." he said using a mild word for what was on him.

He opened the door slowly as he gritted his teeth. He couldn't wait to shower...to crawl into bed, and press up against Dillon again. Cuddle with the one person he trusted most other then his twin. He then groaned a bit, this time more in horror then pain. His brother was going to kill him for not talking to him in any way. He shoved his hands into the pockets of the large pants that were barely hanging onto his waist. He was waiting for Dillon to lead the way.

"Um...Dillon...could you...possibly help me clean up? I don't think I can get my back well enough," he asked once they had reached his door and before they had stepped inside. He didn't want to loose his never of asking for the favor later.

Dillon chuckled and reached over to carefully ruffle Marcus' hair. "Hold your horses, Piscín Kayt." he said softly, using his old nickname for the cub. It was Gaelic for Kitten. "Can't very well jump out of the car while like a rabbit while you're all hurt now can you? Unless you fancy yourself an even bigger masochist than you've been letting on." The last was said teasingly but deep down he did worry that such might be the case. He really seemed to have no sense of self preservation.

He killed the engine and slipped out of the car, walking around to help Marcus out, but the kitten was already stumbling out and he tsked with a soft growl. "You're going to get yourself hurt worse if you're not careful..." he muttered and very carefully guided Marcus by the shoulders to his front door. He stepped away long enough to unlock and open the door, then guiding him inside.

At his question he laughed softly and began steering him toward the bathroom. "Well you didn't think I was going to make you wash yourself now did you? Come on, just because I was passing myself off as a bastard back there doesn't mean I am one. I'm here to take care of you, Piscín. Now let's peel those clothes off. Carefully. I don't care if they get dirty or torn, I don't want to worsen your wounds."

Marcus blushed, blood stains on the front and the back of the shirt showed through, and he looked down. "You were so angry..." he whispered to show he really had thought that, "and...they had always made me clean myself up..." he said quietly giving more of a glimpse of how bad he had had it down there. As they entered into the bathroom, he looked back to Dillon to make sure he was still following, and then stripped off the pants as those were not going to be a problem.

He then looked down to the shirt however, and reached up to slowly pull it away from his skin. He shuddered as there was a slight sucking sound as it pulled away from the wet chest, and a slight whimper escaped him as he felt the material tug at his skin. He stopped at that point, panting a little as it both hurt and felt good. On the car ride over and he dwindle to half his size, but with the slight pain it had started to swell up again.

He looked back up to Dillon as he got his breathing under control again, "Could you get the back?" he asked as his hand rose up to work on his front again. Wincing a bit as the material tugged at his skin again.

Dillon felt like an absolute schmuck. His little act had really scared the beta lion. He really felt ten kinds of awful... Sighing, he followed the taller man into the bathroom; gritting his teeth as he heard how the poor kid was treated. He kicked the jeans aside as Marc stepped out of them and flinched as he began stripping off the shirt slowly. It looked painful and each wince tugged at Dillon's heartstrings.

He stepped forward and stilled Marcus' hands, lifting them away and bringing them down to his sides. "Here... I'll get it..." he said softly. He shifted one of his hand partially so that the fingernails were extended into claws and dragged one of said claws carefully down the front of the shirt, slicing it open so that he could begin to gently peel the fabric away. "Piscín..." he whispered. "I wasn't angry at you. I was angry at them." he looked away. "And myself. I was angry that I wasn't here to protect you. To protect everyone. And... and maybe Alfredo would still be alive...."

He paused in his task and cupped he younger man's face in his hands, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "I'm so sorry, Marcus... if I hadn't been so wrapped up in studying I could have been here for you."

He tried to protest when it appeared Dillon was going to slice the shirt off of him. It might have been big on him, but it was still a good shirt. However as Dillon persisted in it, he fell silent and allowed the alpha to do as he wished. Upon hearing his nickname again he looked down at his mentor and secret crush. He never thought of himself as taller then Dillon. He had a feel about him that always made Marcus think he was looking at him eye level.

"If you had stayed you wouldn't be as happy," he said looking down some, "and...we didn't know things would have gotten so bad..." he said thinking up excuses for Dillon to accept so he wouldn't be in pain because of him. He didn't want to see pain on his face because of something he had done.

Marcus raised his eyes again to Dillon's, the only person he ever could do that with, and he saw the pain in there that he had not wanted to cause him. He also saw guilt and regret. Where his lips had pressed into his forehead, the skin still seemed to sear with heat. "Could...we talk about this later? I really want to clean up..." he said as his eyes lowered again so he wouldn't have to see such raw emotion from him. It was odd to see it out of him. Dillon was strong and confident...some one like him should never have been able to phase him like that...so why him?

Dillon sighed and ran his fingers through the kitten's hair as he pressed his forehead to his. "Sorry," he said, clearing his throat. "Not trying to embarrass you or anything. I just... I really care about you. Breaks my heart to see you so mistreated." He cleared his throat again and and sighed, nuzzling his nose against Marcus' before going back to the task of gently peeling away the shirt. He managed it quite nicely and soon the fabric was on the floor in a bloodstained pile. "Now... we need to get you cleaned up and patched up. Sound good?"

It was probably sounding both good and bad. He'd be clean and be smelling of aloe vera but the process would be a little painful. Hell he'd need to strip down himself in order to keep his leathers from getting ruined. Not really thinking anything of it, he removed the heavy coat with an easy grace and tossed it out the bathroom door to land in a heap on the floor. He shucked off his boots which followed and, after leaning around Marc to turn on the shower, he slipped out of his leather pants and his socks which joined the pile of heavy leather beyond the portal.

Next he reached up and removed the collar from around the kitten's neck. Wouldn't do to be wearing it in the shower now would it? Not to mention it'd be harder to clean him with it on. It, too, joined the pile and then he reached a hand under the spray to test the heat. Warm enough that it would easily clean but not so much that it would hurt him too badly. "You want to be in there alone and just have me help you from here or do you want me in there with you? "He chucked the younger lion under the chin and smiled warmly, reassuringly. "Your choice."

Hearing Dillon admit that he actually cared about him. When before it was just good buddies who had some awesome benefits. However hearing that Dillon actually hurt when he saw him like this...it now made him feel like shit for taking him for granted. Here he probably has the best guy he could have and now...now his old lover, their Rex, was now back, and he'd no doubt hook back up with him and he'd loose that part of their relationship.

He soon found himself naked again, and was fine with but was surprised when Dillon stripped down as well. He then scolded himself as it was obvious getting the leather was a bad idea. He was only looking out for the clothes. When he received a playful chuck at the chin and was asked the question, his eyes widened a bit. He then looked down some as he debated. He was never given a choice and he was at odds with himself.

"Well..I..." he started and looked back up to him a little, "I don't know...I just know that...I don't want you to leave." He answered after a moment and looked down again. His hands clenching and un-clenching now and then as he resisted the urge to cling to Dillon.

"I...I suppose it would be easier for the cleaning if you were in there with me," he said after a moment, and in just a whisper as he didn't want to get hit for being so bold. He still even flinched a bit as if he were expecting to get hit for telling what he wanted instead of just waiting to see what would happen.

The Alpha could see the emotions crossing the younger cat's face. The tension in his body as he fought his urges. The fear that his answer may have displeased the older lion. Every little bit of it yanked at Dillon's heartstrings and he felt the insatiable need to comfort the kitten. Reassure him that he was among family. That he wouldn't be hurt. The flinch was what did him in and he reached to cup Marcus' chin, drawing it upward so that those downcast eyes met his, and kissed him gently. Marcus may have been the taller of the two but his height and his attitude were very drastically different. The way he behaved, one couldn't help but see him as smaller than he was. "In it is then." he said softly.

Carefully he helped Marcus into the shower and followed in after him, grabbing the fresh wash cloth that hung from the bar inside and getting it soaked thoroughly. "I'm not going to use soap," he explained gently. "That'll just hurt you right now and I'd rather not be the source of any more discomfort." He chuckled softly to lighten the comment and, gesturing for the younger kitty to turn around, he began to gently wash his back and neck. "If it hurts too much, let me know okay?"

Marcus was a little surprised when Dillon kissed him instead of hit him for being so bold. His lips moved to kiss him back for that brief moment of joining before Dillon pulled away. Marcus resisted to whine out from him pulling away, but the way he stood with his eyes closed for a moment showed clearly enough that he hadn't wanted that. He always did enjoy the fact that Dillon was shorter, but it wasn't because of that. It was because of their difference in level and roles that it was more like they looked each other in the eye, and he rarely had that sense.

"Ok..." Marcus said softly as Dillon said he'd join him. He was glad that he was there to help him in. He wasn't sure how much he would have succeeded getting in on his own. The water stung at his open wounds, but it felt so good to feel the hot water. He was lucky if he had ever gotten a warm shower in the ring. He felt Dillon move in behind him, and he looked back at the other lion. The stinging of the water was already getting him some what aroused as it was some pain.

"Alright...I'll let you know," Marcus promised him. As he felt the cloth move on his back, he shivered a bit as it felt both good, and slightly painful, "No go ahead and use the soap if you want. I'll be able to handle it...and the wounds need to be cleaned..." he said as he knew better then to not make sure they had gotten sterile. He leaned against the wall a bit, and the water cascaded down his back more directly. His fingers curling just slightly against the wall as the stinging increased with direct contact.

Very lightly, Dillon ruffled Marcus' hair when he stood there in silent protest after the kiss had broken. Dillon loved the kid. Who was hardly a kid anymore but... well. Old images died hard. He still saw Marcus as a kitten and wanted to do everything he could to protect him. Like his... semi-incestuous big brother. Okay so maybe it was a little twisted but they'd always been like that together and were both content. Though he knew Marcus needed more... he had his own mess to sort out and didn't want the kitten getting dragged along for the ride.

He quirked a golden brow at Marcus' suggestion as he opted for the soap... he knew it would sting like a bitch and had tried to spare Marcus any more pain. But he was right, it did need proper cleaning. And... part of him knew that Marcus would enjoy it. But at the moment he was't sure if that was really a good thing to be getting his patient riled up. Every little reaction Marcus made did not go unnoticed by the older cat. He kew what the sting of the water was doing to him. And he had to firmly reprimand himself for even contemplating catering to it.

Still cursing mentally, he rinsed the cloth and wrung it out before reaching for the citrus scented body wash he had. He liked the scent of oranges and tangerines, and didn't really care who knew it. He poured some onto the cloth and worked it into a lather before very gently beginning to properly clean the wounds on the younger man's back, starting at the top. "Let me know if you can't take anymore okay, Marcus?" he said in a gentle but firm tone. "I know it may feel kind of good for you but I don't want you having to take any more than you can handle right now. If you start to feel overwhelmed, sick, dizzy, or anything unpleasant or out of the ordinary, you will say your safe word."

No questions of whether or not that was okay with the kid, no hint of uncertainty. He knew that Marcus would respond better right now and be safer if he asserted his authority and commanded, however gently, for him to do what was needed to be safe. He kissed the top of the kitten's head -only made easy by the fact that Marcus was leaning against the shower wall- and nuzzled. "Do you remember your safe word? tell me what it is."

As Dillon buckled down. Got firm and dominate with him, another shiver couldn't help but run through his body. He missed Dillon. He missed him so much and the way he had always taken control of him. Now that he was back, he wanted it again. He hoped to have it again. When he felt the sting of the soap on his back, a hiss of sharp breath going in, escaped him. It hurt, but it felt good too. Just like Dillon knew it would. It hurt, but it wasn't bad.

When he was asked if he remembered his safe word, he told himself of course he knew it. Dillon liked the smell of Tangerines, and Marcus liked the smell of it on him. It was also something that would be easy for him to remember, and always got Dillon to listen to him. He leaned over to nuzzle into Dillon's neck lightly, his lips moving along his skin and to his ear. A reaction that he was so use to doing with the dominates on him he didn't really think about it.

"Tangerines," Marcus whispered into Dillon's ear before he nuzzled into his neck again. What was he doing?! He was hurt, marred up, and bleeding and he was making moves on Dillon. He was so messed up, and he only realized it right then how messed up he was. Dillon was trying to clean him and tend to him, and all he could think about was that he was a dominate and sex.

As it sank in fully that he was sick...some how...mentally he was, he slowly slipped to his knee's and just started to cry. The water might have hid the tears, but the sound of running water could not hide the sounds of his sobs or the uncontrolled shake of his body as he broke down.

Dillon was very careful as he cleaned Marcus' wounds. He knew the pain would feel good to the kitten but he didn't want to overdo it. The boy had a hard time differentiating between good pain and dangerous pain. He always had. But he had a feeling that now it was much worse.

He stopped and gritted his teeth, shivering as Marcus leaned back to tease his neck with his lips. Then his ear. The little minx! He'd learned how to tease.... okay so not good right now. Not good at all. He had to keep his head on straight -and not the one between his legs. He sucked in a short breath when the teasing kitten whispered the safe word. Ordinarily he would have chuckled and swatted his rump lightly but now was not the time for games.

And then he felt the lad stop. Tense. Just before he was sliding to the shower floor sobbing. Alarmed beyond belief, Dillon dropped the wash cloth and knelt by him, pulling him into his arms and cradling him. It would probably hurt him a bit but he needed to give him comfort. He stroked his sopping wet hair, massaged the back of his neck, kissed his forehead... "Shh... kitten, it's all right. You're safe, no one is ever going to hurt you again. I'll make damned sure of it, you hear me? Shh... shh... it's okay, love. It's okay. I'm here. Dillon's here."

As soon as Dillon had his arms wrapped around Marcus, he was clinging to him with an iron clad grip. Marcus had toned out a lot since Dillon had left, and the grip was stronger then before. However he was still the gentle, submissive kitten that Dillon always knew...and if anything just more submissive. "I'm sorry Dillon...I'm sorry," he whispered in between his sobs, "I'm so messed up...a-a-aren't I?" he gasped out as he tried to breath again.

Feeling Dillon as near as he was now was like a wave of easement. He still wanted to cry, but he felt like he was home again. Home that he hadn't seen or heard from in so long both with his family or his Pride. He whimpered as he curled around Dillon the best he could. He wanted as much non-damaging physical contact as he could get right now. His wounds were already healing. Not as deep as before, and the bleeding had stopped all together.

A few moments after curling into the alpha, Marcus fell silent though still felt numb. He was hard...hard and ready to go but for once Marcus didn't feel like doing anything unless Dillon wanted to. He wasn't going to start anything...hint at anything. He just wanted to be held at that moment.

Dillon rocked with the kitten in his arms, laying gentle kisses on his sodden hair and his cheeks. Anywhere he could reach. "You're not messed up, Piscín Kayt," he whispered. "You've just been through a hell of a lot of trauma. Sometimes it can change a person in ways that scare the livin' daylights outta them. But I don't think you're messed up at all. You can get through this. I'll be here to help you."

He sat with him for a while, continuing to rock him and hum soothingly. But it was rather hard not to notice that the poor thing was still rock hard and yet was keeping the fact to himself. He needed release of some kind. Very gently, Dillon slipped a hand down the front of his kitten's body, caressing his chest and belly before his hand circled the hard flesh between his legs and began stroking firmly. "And right now... I'm going to help you feel good. You've been a very good, very brave kitten. You deserve a reward."

Marcus took comfort that Dillion did not see him as a messed up person. That he still saw him as a person. It also helped that his nickname was used. No one had even come close to the same one, and he had missed it. Just hearing his words, feeling his touch, and his aura around him caused him to slowly stop shaking from his tears. He still felt numb, but that would take time all on it's own.

They sat there in silence for a good while as the water poured onto them, and slowly got a little cooler. After a moment he felt Dillon's hand moving down his body, caressing at his body, and Marcus relaxed as he didn't think anything of it. That is until he felt Dillon wrap around him, and start to stroke him. It wasn't a gentle one either. It was firm and very clear that Dillon was not going to stop until Marcus was relieved. A whimper escaped him, but this time it sounded happy instead of in pain or shame.

His body uncurled a little again, and he pushed his hips up towards Dillon's hand. His body was reacting to the pleasure, and Marcus leaned in to nuzzle at his neck. "Dillon...can we move out of the shower?" he asked softly. Even before he was kidnapped, Dillon was the only one that Marcus had the courage to ask something. Any other dominant he would just follow their lead. However he trusted Dillon enough to do so with out consequence after all their time together. His length starting to lightly throb with in his first masters hand.