You love your sister? You make any noise, you know what happens?
I'm gonna kill her instead of you. You make any noise, I'm gonna kill her. You understand?
He killed them with they love, they love for each other.
Now you see how it is. That's the way it is every day.
That's the way it is all over the world.
-Stephen King's The Green Mile-
The Greatest Price
He was hiding, hiding and ducking around, shivering like the prey that he had come to realize he was. He didn't want what they did to him, yet he allowed them to find him, and once found he didn't struggle to take what they gave him, no matter how hard it was. He had to.
His father had once told him, in a rare moment of wisdom, that love requires the greatest price to pay out, but also the greatest reward. He never imagined any price tag this high, and yet his father's words must have been truth, because he paid every bloody, tearful penny for it.
One other thing his father had told him once, right before he'd got into the industry his family name leaned on. His dad had sat his big frame next to his small one, and took his hand. He'd gotten a strange feeling, as if he just knew this was going to be one of those awkward parental lessons—like the dreaded Sex Talk. That's just what it was, a special Sex Talk reserved for those who step into the ring and make their life a wrestling match. There are too many lonely nights on the road, away from family, away from the ones you love, and there are many temptations, so said The Wise Dusty Rhodes. There are some who have been around longer, some who may be bigger than you, some who are higher than you and can hang their rank over your head like a title dangling by its strap in a ladder match. There are those, Cody, who will try to take advantage of you. Don't let them.
His father's words made his nose crinkle. They made him squirm, it was only natural. These were things he really didn't want to hear from father to son. He managed to blank out most of the conversation so he could get through it without looking too distraught, remembering to throw in the occasional head nod just to keep up the appearances of attention.
He should have listened better.
He should have taken his father's words to heart.
Now he was nothing more but this terrified pawn of their sexual chess game.
He turned to scamper around a corner, and yelped when he plastered himself into one of his leering searchers. The bigger man laughed, but it sounded more like the rumble of an oncoming storm. The large hand usurped his wrist and bit it, making clear what Cody already knew: that he wouldn't escape. Not this time. Not any time because they had the perfect price to bargain with, the highest price, that price that Dusty had spoken of: love.
His captor dragged him to the room with the number on it where the dance would take place. He tossed him to the floor, so carelessly. The others gathered around him, from his crumpled position on the floor they seemed to loom over him like giants over that stupid Jack who climbed the beanstalk. He gathered enough courage to look up, his fearful, teary eyes touching briefly on each sneering, lust-filled gaze. What made it so much worse, was that he worked with these people. He traveled with them. He had once thought that these people were supposed to be like his surrogate family. Families don't play these kind of sadistic games.
They handled him roughly, the always did. Sometimes they bickered over who got first, but this night they seemed to have it already planned out. They stripped him, they did what they wanted, they put their raging maleness anywhere they wanted, they covered him with the product of their climaxes, and his thighs dripped with his own blood and their juices that tainted him. His face wore it too, like a shameful mask that he couldn't ever seem to really remove, and his tears cut slow, hot, pathways through the mess.
"Good boy." One of them said, patting his head as though he was no more than a dog.
They left him all alone, deciding they could all go down to the hotel bar for a drink. Celebrate another easy victory, so to speak. They trickled out, one by one until it was just Cody and his tears trying to find his discarded clothing.
He hated this.
He hated this never ending cat-and-mouse fuck.
The cats always win, the mouse always ends up squeaking on his back.
And he would continue to lay himself in that position—or any position they wanted--as long as it protected the one he loved.
Don't you dare think about ratting us out, Rhodes. We'll get him, if you tell a soul.
They didn't go to the bar, but there was no way for Cody to know that. They'd laughed, as they made their way to a different floor, and the room of their other plaything. It never failed to entertain them, to get them all off, to know just what they were doing, while the two victims to their horny cruelty were clueless.
He opened the door to a crack, the one eye that peeked out widened when he caught sight of the group gathered in the hallway like a lynch mob. He tried to shut the door, but a foot was caught in the way and the door was pushed, and the group spilled in.
They locked the door.
They pushed him onto the bed.
He tried to struggle against them, unlike the other one—Ted always struggled.
"You know you have to give us what we want, DiBiase, or else we'll get it from Cody."
That always made the fight wither out of him, he couldn't let them have Cody.
They parted his strong thighs, they forced his jaw down, his lips and ass both prettily parted to allow for intrusion after intrusion. It hurt, fuck it always hurt so bad, both his body and his pride, but he knew the pain he'd have to bear in his heart if Cody was ever made to suffer at his unwilling hands would be far worse than any other. After what seemed like a nightmarish life time, they all finished with him, and left with laughter in their wake. For a moment, he just laid on the messy bed, feeling too sick to move. He finally did though, rolling sluggishly off the bed. He dragged his feet to the bathroom and stood under the shower, leaning his sore, battered frame against the tiles. He closed his eyes and let the steamy water rush over his trembling flesh, and he pictured that face over and over on the backs of his dark eyelids: Cody, Cody, Cody.
The shower helped a little, but it couldn't ever make everything go away. He knew what he wanted, he wanted to see the dark haired boy that he loved, and hold him in his arms to be able to feel close to someone, without feeling weak. He pulled on a sweat shirt to hide the bite marks on his shoulders and arms, and hoped that Cody wouldn't mind if they skipped the love making tonight. It bothered him that he couldn't perform for Cody sometimes, but he was just too wrecked. Cody was so good about it though, he always seemed to understand when the night was passed better by just holding each other close.
Ted stood at the door for a good five minutes, and he almost thought about leaving because his knocking wasn't rousing anything. Maybe Cody was sleeping, or in the shower, or maybe he was out having a lot more fun than Ted had tonight. He stared at the numbers on the door, and the tiny peep-hole, before deciding to touch his knuckles to the wood grain one last time.
He was glad he did.
The door was opened cautiously, but once Cody saw who it was, his frown was swept up into wide grin. He pulled Ted into the room, and wrapped around him.
"I'm so glad to see you." He cried, nuzzling into the letters across the chest of Ted's sweatshirt.
"What's wrong baby?" Ted asked, gently stroking Cody's back.
"N-nothing." Cody stuttered, as he pulled away from Ted, and sniffled as he tried to put his emotions back where they belonged. "I just missed my best friend." Cody finally said, wiping the last of the tears away from his pretty dark eyes.
"I missed you too Coddles. God, come back over here you." He pulled Cody back to him, and they just stood there holding each other, each trying hard not to cry over what they'd sacrificed for the other, never knowing that each man held the same horrible secret. "I love you so much, Cody." Ted sniffled.
"I love you too Teddy, always."