A Change In The Status Quo

by HauntedShadows

Summary:

Dwight was never popular with the ladies, or with the guys. He was shy, he couldn't flirt to save his life, and he had low self-esteem. So, why in god's name was he suddenly the hottest commodity in their pseudo purgatory, and why the hell was it some of the killers that wanted him so badly?

- Or -

The Entity spits Dwight out at the wrong place without his glasses, and then watches the ensuing chaos with popcorn at the ready.

Chapter 1: We're Not In Kansas Anymore

Dwight woke up with a start from his fleeting nightmare. That the contents of said dream eluded him was a blessing, since his battles for survival whilst awake were nightmares in and of themselves. Case in point- the last thing that he remembered was being brutally murdered for the nth time before he appeared back at camp and stumbled off to take a long nap.

He stretched out on top of his sleeping bag and let out a quiet sigh as he returned to his curled-up position. His sleeve brushed against his cheek in that moment, and the sheer softness of the fabric felt wonderful to the half-asleep survivor. He wasn't used to such comforts anymore, so he gladly nuzzled his face into his new plush sleeve with a light blush and closed eyes.

The small, pleased smile faded from his face as soon as a bright light pierced his eyelids.

He yawned and reluctantly sat up to check it out. When his eyes slowly opened, it was only to see blurry shapes and the telltale glow of a burning fire. Confused, he muttered, "Didn't I pass out back in my tent?"

He gently rubbed his right eye with his sleeve and startled when another flash went off somewhere in front of him. "Feng, is that you?" He bit his lip when she didn't answer him, and flinched when he was blinded by another, slightly closer, flash. He frowned at their actions and said, "This isn't funny, guys..."

When nothing but silence greeted him once again, he closed his eyes and released a loud sigh. Then he blindly groped the ground around him in the hopes that his glasses were nearby. He was more than sick of this one-sided conversation, and he was starting to get pissed off at the fact that everyone at camp seemed to be going along with her plan.

When his glasses weren't in his immediate vicinity, he grit his teeth and sternly said, "Feng, you know that I can't see shit without my glasses. Give them back."

At her continued silence, Dwight's frustration boiled over, and to his humiliation, he felt his eyes begin to water. He managed to keep the waterworks at bay as he weakly said, "Guys? Why aren't you answering me? O-or saying anything?"

At the sight of another goddamn flash, he lost his tentative control over his emotions, and a tear began to drip down his face. He quickly brought his knees up to his chest and hid his face behind his arms so that Feng, or whoever the fuck that stole her phone, wouldn't get a picture of that too.

Dwight took a shaky breath, and tried to calm down now that they couldn't see him. He knew that he utterly failed at that once he started trembling, and he hated that he was showing weakness in front of the other survivors.

It wasn't even that bad of a prank. It could have been a lot worse. Hell, he's had a lot worse done to him before. By his coworkers no less, and right before the Entity kidnapped him to participate in the trials.

He just had to look at the bright side. It's not like they dumped him in the woods somewhere without his glasses or broke them right in front of him. No, they just took the only thing that he truly needed in this fucked up hellscape... Kept it out of his grasp... And then took pictures of him the whole time...

Okay, the fact that it went on for this long without anyone stepping in to stop her, or them, was admittedly very hurtful. They were all supposed to be a team, and if he got sent into a trial like this, he knew that he'd be a sitting duck. While it was only an irritating prank for now, it would be a fucking nightmare for their whole team if he was forced into a trial like this. But none of them seemed to give a shit about his wellbeing, or care about his feelings on the matter.

He gripped his sleeves tightly before he let out another shaky breath. He thought that they'd be more considerate since they knew he was mori'd in his last trial, but he guessed not if this was how they were acting.

At the sight of a dimmed flash, he let out a low groan. Then he lifted his head and yelled out, "Stop taking my goddamn picture!" He slumped in defeat right after and closed his eyes. "You win, okay... Just give me my glasses and call me a fucking loser, already."

Dwight felt a slight breeze and opened his eyes to see a blurry shape crouched down a couple feet in front of him. The only thing he could tell was that they were wearing black clothing and had dark hair. Which narrowed his guessing by some, but not enough.

He bitterly muttered, "What, you want to get a closer look at the blind guy? Maybe dangle my glasses just out of reach so I miss and look even more pathetic in front of everyone?"

Dwight frowned when the person simply tilted their head and continued to stare at him. He gripped his sleeves tighter, and then flinched when a hand reached out and grabbed his chin. He could feel that the person was wearing gloves, so he whispered out a pained, "Jake? I-I thought we were f-friends..."

A lone tear slid down his cheek when Jake didn't say anything, and he gasped when he was suddenly hauled onto the other survivor's lap. Then arms snaked around and quickly pulled Dwight closer until he was fully pressed against him. His head was nestled in Jake's neck once the younger man tightened his grip, and his face turned a flustered red at their new position.

"Jake, w-what are you doing?"

"You're coming with me," a man purred out. He had a low, raspy voice, and he sounded nothing like his friend Jake.

Dwight panicked and cried out, "Who are you?! L-let me go!" He tried to push back against the man, but his grip was iron tight. There was no getting away from him. When the guy didn't even budge from his struggles, he started to tremble. "Please... Put me down," he pleaded before his tears spilled over and began to coat the stranger's neck.

He felt the man's hand rub small circles into his back. "Aww, don't cry, cutie pie. I'm just taking you back to my place." At his admission, Dwight paled and tried to get away again. The man simply sighed at his sad attempt, and said, "You can struggle all you want, hot stuff, but you're not getting away from me." He emphasized his point by tightening his hold and nuzzled his cheek into Dwight's soft hair with a pleased sigh.

Dwight whimpered at the feeling, but he stopped trying to escape after one final, desperate push. By that point, he was shaking like a leaf in his hold, and barely mustered up the courage to whisper, "W-why are you doing this?"

The man let out a low laugh. "Why do people do anything? I wanted to take you home, so now I am. It's as simple as that."

He took off his gloves before he reached one hand up and began to pet Dwight's head. The added contact made him tremble even more, but the stranger didn't comment on it, and was content to continue slowly running his fingers through his hair.

They stayed like that for well over a minute, with Dwight gradually growing less tense, and hating that the man's fingers felt so good as they gently threaded through his locks with practiced ease. His eyes became half-lidded as the touching continued, and he didn't realize that he was making soft, appreciative sounds until the man held him closer and said, "How are you this fucking cute? You're like a cat that doesn't want to admit that it likes being pet, but the purring gives you away."

Dwight tensed and said, "W-what? I-I wasn't..." His breath hitched when the man returned to petting him, and he shuddered with a quiet moan once he started ghosting his nails over his scalp. He unconsciously gripped his captor's clothing even tighter at the feeling as he secretly hoped for more of that, but the fingers paused in their movements completely.

Dwight barely stopped himself from begging, and hesitantly asked, "W-why did you s-stop?"

His captor was quiet for a moment, before he loudly swallowed. Then the pitch of his voice was slightly higher as he said, "Okay, it's time to go now! Yep, we really should get going..." He sounded flustered for the first time since they met, and while it was a welcome change compared to his almost smug confidence, Dwight was feeling frustrated more than anything else.

He never felt anywhere near that good before from a simple touch, and he desperately wanted to feel it again. Not that he'd ever voice that out loud to the man. He already had enough trouble asking for normal things from the people that he trusted, and this wasn't a normal thing, nor was this guy someone that he trusted- like, at all. Plus, "Please, touch me with your nails again," sounded way too embarrassing, and not to mention needy, to ask anyone even in his scared, extremely sleep-deprived state.

So, he kept quiet and was pulled out of his thoughts once his captor cleared his throat and said, "Right, so... I'm going to stand up now. Feel free to wrap your legs around me- or don't. I really wouldn't mind grabbing your ass for the entire walk back." 

A second later, the man stood up, and true to his word, his hand quickly glided down Dwight's back until it settled over his ass. Once he took a firm grip of the survivor's left cheek, Dwight let out a surprised squeak and hurried to do what the guy said. When the man didn't immediately release his bottom, he squirmed and yelled out, "Y-you didn't give me any time! S-stop it!"

At his plea, the perv let out an amused laugh. Then his butt was given a gentle squeeze before the man rumbled out a pleased, "Good boy. Now, let's go home." He let go of Dwight's ass right after, so he could support his back instead. Then he carried him off into the darkness with a happy hum.

It took some time for Dwight to calm down after the sudden ass grab, but once he did, the man's words finally sunk in. "I-I'm not a dog..." Dwight's cheeks grew rosy as he unwillingly clung to his kidnapper, though his face burned a lot more when the man's hand swiftly returned to his hair and began to gently pet him again.

That his captor started petting him right after his denial was definitely not lost on him.

"You're right, sweetheart. You're definitely more like a cat than a dog." He briefly let a fingernail gently brush against Dwight's scalp and cooed at the muffled whine that he released. "And I'm definitely more of a cat person, myself. So, this works out wonderfully for me." His fingers continued to carefully thread through Dwight's locks as he walked in silence, and that left the survivor with nothing to do except to think about his extremely weird situation.

Dwight really didn't know why the new guy took such an intense interest in him. The other survivors were much more interesting, and not to mention far more attractive, than he was... Not that he wanted someone else to have to go through this either, but still, there were a lot better options out there than him back at camp.

After a couple more minutes of pleasant touches and many self-depreciating thoughts, Dwight turned his head to the side and muttered, "H-how far away is your... Home... From the fire?"

The man let out a low laugh and gently brushed his nails over Dwight's head. "So curious~ Don't worry, kitten. We're almost there."

After shuddering with a soft gasp, Dwight sputtered at the new nickname and quickly hid his face against the guy's neck without a word. His cheeks were dark from the pet name alone, and once again, he wished to know why this was happening to him, out of all the survivors. He wasn't anything special, but he guessed that he'd find out what the man wanted from him soon enough.

Chapter 2: I'm Just A Survivor With No Self-Esteem

Summary:

Thank you all so much for the lovely hits, kudos, and comments! Here's a big dollop of plot and some spice to tide you over until the next chapter ;)

The rest of their walk was silent save for the jaunty whistles that came from his captor. When the man slowed down his pace a couple minutes later, Dwight looked up to see a warm light in front of them. He blinked in surprise, and watched as the man fumbled with something before he unlocked a door. He strolled on in without a care in the world and gently kicked the door shut with his foot. The sound of a lock was heard, and then he moved further into the room.

The man turned a light on and called out, "Honey, we're home!" But no one responded to his words, and by the quiet chuckle that he released right after, he was expecting that.

So, they were still alone, but now no one would know where they are. Dwight's stomach churned at the thought. This guy was a lot stronger than him after all, and his calls for help wouldn't reach anyone if the man started to hurt him.

Even though he was scared, Dwight swallowed and said, "U-um... Could you m-maybe put me down, now? Please?"

He heard a sigh, before the guy said, "As much as I love holding you like this, I do need to shower..." The man briefly tightened his grip before he walked over to something, and promptly dropped the nervous survivor. He let out a gasp as he fell, and blinked in surprise when he bounced off of a soft surface.

Dwight felt around and whispered an awed, "Y-you have a bed?"  He fell onto his back and let out a pleased sigh at how nice it felt to just lay there. The moment of peace didn't last long though, because he quickly remembered that he had an audience- one that felt up his ass earlier. In his panic, he hurried to sit up with a burning face and then looked down at his lap. Once he worriedly clasped his hands together, he said, "Sorry, it's b-been a long time since I've laid on one of these..."

The man quickly replied, "Aww, that's a shame. You look adorable when you're spread out on mine."

Dwight bit his lip hard before he twisted his fingers into the soft fabric of his sweater. His face burned even more as he muttered, "S-stop doing that."

The man merely tilted his head. His tone was casual as he asked, "Doing what, dollface?" 

Dwight frowned and felt what was left of his patience snap at the guy's nonchalant answer. "That! Th-the pet names a-and the flirting!" He let out a sharp sigh. "I don't know you! I don't even know your name, and yet you somehow convinced the others to let you carry me out to your secret cabin in the woods! And why would you take me out of everyone here?! It doesn't make any sense!" Dwight brought his legs up so he could wrap his shaking arms around his knees, and slowly curled into himself. "N-none of this makes any sense..."

"It makes perfect sense to me, Dwight. And the name's Jed, by the way." The man paused for a second before he teasingly said, "Hey, I know that you like soft things, and you know that I like cats, touching your hair, and holding you, so we aren't exactly strangers anymore."

Dwight paled at hearing his name come out of the stranger's- out of Jed's mouth, and moved to scramble backwards when Jed took a step closer to him. His legs were grabbed as soon as his back hit the headboard.

He cried out when he was dragged down to the center of the bed, and whimpered when his hands were pulled above his head by something that he couldn't see. He bit his lip and felt tears spring to his eyes as he desperately tried to force them apart, but he flinched and stopped moving entirely when Jed's right hand slid up from his shoe to gently grab his knee.

"Fucking Christ, Fairfield... Now you're just playing dirty."

Dwight grit his teeth and said, "I-I'm playing dirty?! You k-kidnapped me and tied me to your bed! What the hell am I doing that's unfair?!"

Jed rubbed his thumb over Dwight's knee as he calmly stated, "You're acting all cute after your sweater rode up. It's fucking distracting."

Dwight narrowed his eyes into a glare. "Y-you made it ride up, asshole! And how am I being fucking cute?!"

In that moment, he pieced it all together.

How Feng somehow lent this guy her phone when she wouldn't normally let anyone even touch it. How no one else spoke up the entire time that they were at the campsite. And how no one stopped Jed, a complete stranger, from taking him away to his literal house, while Dwight was stuck with a small tent and a thick sleeping bag as his biggest comfort rewards, and he was here the longest.

None of it was right. None of it should have happened, but it could if one key thing changed.

Dwight didn't wake up at his usual campsite.

Which meant that it was easy pickings to just scoop him up and take him away. Who knew how far away he actually was from his friends... And if it was only Jed there, then that could mean a few things, but the most obvious one made him pale.

He was trapped with a killer.

Dwight's glare instantly slid off of his face and his eyes widened in pure terror. He couldn't help but to tremble at that revelation and tried to shy away from the hand that still rested on his knee. He inevitably failed, and his eyes filled with tears when Jed's other hand slowly slid up to his right thigh in response.

He shakily said, "I-if you usually wear a mask, I can't s-see much like this. J-just your dark hair, r-really! So, y-you really don't need to torture me, Mr. Killer! Please, just m-make my death quick..." Then he squeezed his eyes shut and his tears began to slide down his face in droves.

There was a tense moment of silence, before Jed started to rub soothing circles into his thigh. "Oh, Dwight, sweet cheeks, the apple of my eye... You really are something else." He let out a loud sigh before he continued. "So, what gave me away?"

Dwight swallowed and asked, "A-are you going t-to hurt me once I tell you?"

"Nope. Just curious, is all." His tone was light, and his thumb continued to gently rub into Dwight's thigh.

Dwight bit his lip. He was wary of Jed's intentions- how could he not be? But he wasn't in any kind of position right now to lie to him. After a short pause, he decided to tell the bare minimum. "O-okay. There were a l-lot of things that were off at the fire, but the biggest tell was this house, cabin, or w-whatever we're inside right now."

Jed interjected, "It's a small cabin."

"Okay, th-then the small cabin is what gave you away."

The killer tilted his head. "Really, now? I like the place myself, but is a one room, one bathroom cabin really that much of an eye opener?"

"Y-yes. Most of us only have a thin sleeping bag back at our camp, s-so having a one-person cabin with a soft bed is a luxury." He briefly looked off to the side after he finished speaking, and worried his lower lip when he was reminded of the position that he was in. Blinded and tied to a bed with a killer standing over him...

Jed's voice grew thoughtful. "And what are you working with, back at camp?"

"W-well... I've been given other rewards from the Entity, b-but a tent, a pillow, and a thicker sleeping bag were the biggest ones that I've gotten from them. And so far, I'm the only one who has all three of those things. Though, I guess it makes sense," he trailed off with a furrowed brow.

At another head tilt, Dwight continued. "A-ah, it wasn't by much, but I was the first to arrive here, out of all of the survivors. A-and I've been in the most trials out of everyone here, too. The Entity seems to like making me suffer the most..."

Dwight looked off to the side with a frown and jolted when Jed suddenly jumped onto the bed. He was on his hands and knees now, with his legs hugging both sides of Dwight's thighs, and his face was hovering just above his own. "Hey, don't look so glum, sugarplum. I'm willing to share my bed with you, anytime."

The survivor grimaced at the new nickname, but his face turned scarlet at the man's offer. He tried to turn his face away to hide it, despite knowing that it was a lost cause from the start. "S-stop saying shit like that. It's not funny."

He didn't realize that he just bared his neck to the killer above him. Or that Jed was now staring hungrily at his newly exposed skin. His eyes were quickly darkening at the lovely picture that Dwight painted for him. So sweet, so innocent, and all his for the night.

Jed couldn't help himself- he just had to have a taste.

He leaned in close enough to brush his lips against Dwight's ear. Then his voice deepened as he growled out, "I'm dead serious," before he gently bit his ear lobe. He grinned at the hitched breath from the man underneath him, and gave the lobe a slow, soothing lick. Then he lightly blew on it before he pushed himself up and settled all of his weight on his knees. He needed to see his handiwork.

Dwight certainly didn't disappoint with his clenched hands, dazed eyes, and dark red cheeks. And all while shaky breaths passed through his slightly parted, pink lips. The survivor was acting as if he's never felt anything like that before, and to be honest, the idea of being Dwight's first was very appealing to the turned-on killer.

Seeing that he was sufficiently distracted, Jed took his chance and got to work. He grabbed the soft rope that he set aside earlier, and gently wound it around the man's already trapped wrists. Once he made the correct shape, he completely removed his shroud's tendrils from the survivor, and carefully tightened the rope in their place before he securely bound him to the head of his bed. Switching them out was practically seamless, as Dwight's arms didn't so much as twitch out of place during the smooth transition.

Then he moved off of the mattress and quickly untied both of Dwight's shoelaces. The survivor must have snapped out of his daze by then, since he startled once Jed flung off his first shoe, and then frantically tried to keep his other foot away from him.

"W-what are you doing?! S-stop it!"

Jed easily captured his other foot and then pulled his second shoe off in one simple movement. With his footwear out of the way, Jed hopped back onto the bed and settled himself on top of Dwight's thighs. The man's whole body was shaking now, so Jed leaned forwards and booped his nose. "Hey now, don't be scared, little red. I'm not trying to get in your pants. I'm just trying to take them off."

As Jed undid a button, Dwight panicked and tried to buck him off. The survivor squirmed for all that he was worth, but Jed still managed to unzip his jeans right after without much trouble. He hooked his pointer fingers on the inside of his pants before he said, "There, now for the last step, and then I can finally get out of these sweaty ass clothes..."

He tugged them down a couple inches before Dwight pleaded with him. "Please... Don't do this. Y-you said that you wouldn't hurt me..." His cheeks were flushed, his lower lip trembled slightly, and his eyes were glistening with unshed tears that threatened to fall down at any moment.

Jed cleared his throat at the unfairly adorable look on the survivor's terrified face. "And I meant it." He pushed himself off of Dwight to stand in front of his bed. "It'll take me some time to clean up, so I wanted to make you more comfortable while I was gone." He didn't wait for a response and took that time to quickly tug Dwight's pants off the rest of the way. "Plus, I like the view."

Oh boy, did he like the view. Dwight was strung up and tied to his bed, with his sweater riding up just enough to show off his pale stomach. His thick thighs were on display now that his pants were off, and his dark boxers hugged them perfectly while hinting at something that would be a very good time for Jed. It seemed like the nerd was hiding quite the gift under his clothes, and Jed was more than ready to unwrap him.

Dwight's face burned at his words, before he hurriedly planted his feet on the bed and then pushed his legs together to block Jed's sight. "W-wait! You can't leave me like this! What if I'm called f-for another trial?" He clenched his eyes shut before he said, "Please, Jed! I-I'm already blind... I don't want to go without pants too..."

"Hmm, good point, babe. I don't want anyone else to see you like this. I don't want them getting any ideas..."

Dwight flinched when his left ankle was grabbed and then pulled down until his leg laid flat on the bed again. A moment later, that foot was guided back into his pant leg until it reached just under his knee.

"There, that should do it. Now, just lay back and relax. I'll be back before you know it." At Dwight's weak nod, Jed hurried out of the room and closed a door behind him.

Dwight listened hard for any muffled sounds, and relaxed with a shaky sigh once he was sure that he was alone. Without Jed's presence as a constant stressor, he felt exhausted- to the point that he was struggling to keep his eyes open. The soft bed lying beneath him helped to speed up the process, and he knew without a doubt that he'd pass out before Jed got back.

He fought against the feeling for as long as he could, but it wasn't enough. His eyes eventually shut against his will, and he could open them no longer. Morpheus took a hold of him, and soon he was fast asleep with a killer in the next room over.

Chapter 3: His Latest Obsession

Notes:

Oh boy, I was so excited to post this one! Hope you all have as great of a time reading it as I did with writing it ;)

Dwight's eyes cracked open to a dark room and a soft bed lying beneath him.

He was still half asleep, and very confused about where he was and what woke him up. When his body was grabbed and slid over, he groaned at the sudden movement, but he was gently shushed before he was pushed onto his side, and his back was pressed against a soft pillow. Then the person eagerly enclosed him in an embrace, and moved their legs until they were intertwined with his.

Dwight let out a soft sigh at being moved again, but he wrapped his arms around their waist, pressed his face against their neck, and gently nuzzled into them at the warmth they provided. He heard a shuddering breath before their face settled in his hair and slowly nuzzled him back, and he let himself drift off with a small smile at their cozy position.

The second time Dwight woke up, he was still groggy, and not in the best state of mind. He also felt surprisingly warm and comfortable. Two things that he wasn't used to during his time as a survivor.

It had been a long time since he felt this nice, and he didn't want the feeling to end. He snuggled his face into his pillow with a pleased sigh, and he let out a happy hum when he felt a hand begin to gently card through his hair. He ignored the feeling that he was forgetting something important, and instead, he kept his eyes closed while he simply basked in the feeling of safety.

The sudden sensation of nails lightly trailing along his bare skin caused him to shudder and release a soft moan. He pressed his face further into his pillow while the fingers continued to explore his back, and it was in that moment, that Dwight finally became aware of his situation. He was laying on top of someone, and his pants and shoes were nowhere to be found.

At that realization, Dwight turned bright red and tried to push himself up. The keyword being tried, because whoever was under him noticed what he was doing right away. An arm slipped around his waist and pulled him down with no problems once they felt him move.

When he started trembling, a hand went back to his hair and began to pet him again. While it still felt nice, being held down and forced to receive it scared him enough that it greatly detracted his enjoyment from the otherwise pleasant experience. His hands gripped the fabric of his captor's shirt in fear, and he hid his face with a quiet gasp when their fingers renewed their gentle exploration along his back.

After a minute of silence on his warden's part, and scared trembling on his, Dwight slid his face to the side and said, "Jed, i-is that you?" While their hands paused in their motions for a second, his captor didn't give him a verbal response. Dwight bit his lip, undeterred, as he said, "I a-already told you that I need my pants on since you r-refuse to let me up. I don't want to go into a trial without them..."

When he was finished speaking, Dwight whimpered as his hair was grabbed, and he was gently urged to lift his head enough to face his captor. He couldn't tell who was holding him, just that whoever he was, he had a very pale face and brown hair.

Dwight's eyes widened as he breathed out, "Y-you're not Jed..." The man gripped his hair a little tighter, but he loosened his hold once Dwight said, "U-um... How did you break me out of his cabin? I thought that I'd be stuck there until my next trial..." Dwight bit his lip in thought before the grip on his hair was suddenly gone, and he wasn't prepared for it. He let out a startled yelp when his face fell and hit the stranger's chest. 

Then the hand on his back stopped moving nonsensically across his skin and began to make specific patterns. The man went slow enough for Dwight to realize that they were all upside-down capital letters.

"IN TRIAL."

Dwight paled. "W-wait, we're in a trial? Right n-now?"

"YES," he wrote. Straight to the point, and with no hesitation.

Dwight lowered his voice. "Fuck. W-why are you wasting your time with me? Is it your first trial?" When he didn't get an answer right away, he continued whispering, "Without my glasses, I'm a huge liability. I wouldn't be able to tell i-if the killer is a foot away from me right now..." He frowned hard and continued, "Have you seen the other survivors yet? There should be four of us here along with a killer."

"YES."

Dwight let out a shaky breath, before he hesitantly asked, "Are they s-still alive?"

The man pressed his finger against Dwight's skin, but hesitated for a moment before he wrote a simple, "NO."

Dwight wilted at his answer, and muttered, "D-did you guys manage to power enough gens to open a gate?"

This time the man immediately scrawled, "NO. ONLY TWO."

"Dammit, so we're out of options." The survivor harshly worried his lip, before he sighed and said, "Well, if we're the last ones, then y-you should be the one to get the hatch. I didn't do jack shit in this trial, so if you know where it is, then I could take one for the team and let you escape."

Dwight got an emphatic, "NO," written on his back while the man's other hand began to run his fingers through his hair again. He shivered at the pleasant touch. "U-um, I don't understand. Th-there's no way for me to get to the hatch, let alone a single gen, without the killer catching me first..."

The guy underneath him shook a little like he was holding in a laugh.

"Dude, this isn't funny! Everything is blurred out to the point that I could walk right into the killer and still not realize that it was them! And I can't even think about running away. I'd probably smack straight into a wall or break my leg or something..."

The man then pat his head and slowly wrote, "SAFE WITH MICHAEL," on his back before he moved to sit them both up.

Dwight felt a lot more awkward in their new position. Now he was sitting in the man's lap with his legs curled underneath him, and they were both hugging the outside of the stranger's thighs. Meanwhile, he still wasn't wearing any pants...

He moved his hands to push himself up and off of the guy, but he was pulled flush to the man's broad chest before he could. He felt his cheeks burn as he said, "Y-your name's Michael? I'm Dwight. C-could you let go of me, please? I'd feel a l-lot more comfortable w-with my pants back on..." 

Dwight heard a huff before he was lifted up and then set down on the edge of a bed. He quickly fixed his sweater and smoothed it down so that it covered his lap, and startled when he heard a loud thump on the floor directly in front of him. Then he tensed when his foot was grabbed and guided into his left pant leg. When he moved to grab the fabric and take over from there, his hand was gently swatted away.

His face flushed a dark red as he said, "Y-you really don't need to do that. I can put them on m-myself..."

Michael's response was to simply grab his other foot, place it inside the right pant leg, and begin to pull both sides up. Dwight carefully stood up and made to grab it again, but the man completely ignored him and pulled his pants up the rest of the way. Dwight quickly brought his hands down to zip them up, and managed to button it too before he could be stopped. Then he looked away from the kneeling man and muttered a nervous, "Thanks," before he was pulled back into an embrace.

He shivered when the man's hand snuck underneath his sweater for the third time to write, "FOUND HATCH," and flinched when he was easily lifted and then draped over Michael's shoulder in one easy motion.

When the man stood up to his full height and started a leisurely pace without bothering to hide, well, that was when Dwight completely tensed up. It took him some time to drum up the courage to ask, "Michael, w-what's your last name?"

He didn't answer.

Dwight started trembling at the lack of a response, and he hesitantly activated his Bond perk. When he looked down, Michael was as blurry as ever, and he wasn't encased in a gold aura. Dwight let out a shaky breath before he timidly asked, "A-are you taking me to a hook?"

His last question made the man underneath him tense up as well. "Please, j-just make it quick." He swallowed heavily and said, "I- I won't fight the Entity this time..." Dwight closed his eyes in defeat and yelped when he was manhandled into the same position that he was in with Jed. His legs were placed around the man's waist while Michael's arm trapped him in place against his chest.

His breath hitched when Michael began to write on him again. "MYERS. TAKE TO HATCH."

Dwight grabbed the killer's shirt in a tight grip and said, "I want to believe you, but you've n-never just given one of us the hatch before..."

Michael hesitated, but he eventually scrawled, "UNFAIR TRIAL. WON'T KILL YOU."

"I've had a f-few matches where my glasses were lost or broken early on, and the killers didn't care at all. They actually s-seemed to enjoy hurting me even more when I couldn't see their attacks or r-run away..." Dwight let out a shaky sigh. "So, please, i-if this is just another way to toy with me before you kill me, then I'd rather you just get it over with..."

Dwight tensed when a large hand rested on the nape of his neck. He was sure that Michael was done playing around, and that he was finally ready to smash his head in. He closed his eyes tight and trembled in anxious anticipation, and he had a full body shiver when those fingers began to lightly trail over his scalp.

He gripped Michael's shirt even tighter, and he let out a quiet, shaky moan when Michael's other hand returned to gently ghost his nails over his back at the same time. The sound made him blush and feel embarrassed as hell, but it seemed to urge on the killer who kept him hostage. Michael ran his nails over Dwight's head, back, and even dipped down to his hips at varying pressures until the man was shivering, panting, and constantly letting out soft moans from the sheer amount of pleasure that he was in.

Dwight was so distracted by his hands that he didn't realize that Michael had stopped walking over a few minutes ago. Though, he immediately noticed when Michael stopped touching him. He slumped further against his chest with a tired sigh and felt like his face was on fire from how warm it felt. "Holy... Fuck... Michael... What... Was that?"

His light panting just made him feel more embarrassed, and he hoped like hell that the killer didn't realize that his dick took an interest with what was being done to him. It wasn't that hard yet, but if Michael kept up with his constant touching for another minute or two, then Dwight was sure that his growing hard on would be noticed pretty quickly.

Michael huffed out what might have been a laugh before he wrote, "YOU FEEL BETTER NOW. SO EASY TO PLEASE."

Dwight was still in a daze from what was done to him. He didn't think through his words before he stammered out, "I-I've never had someone make me feel th-that good before..." His breath hitched when both of Michael's arms tightened slightly around him. When he didn't move to hurt him afterwards, Dwight relaxed again.

They stayed still for a while until Dwight realized that The Shape was stalling. "U-um, Michael? Are we close to the hatch?" He didn't hear the haunting sound that came from the escape route, but he didn't want to think about the alternative- that Michael was messing with him the whole time, and that they were standing right in front of a hook. He didn't think that the man would stoop that low considering just how much time that he spent on not hurting him, but he never claimed to know how the killer thinks.

When Michael simply wrote, "ALMOST," Dwight held his breath until the man started to move again. He was beyond relieved that he wasn't about to get skewered on a hook.

After another minute or so of walking, he could barely hear the creepy tune that rang out from the bloodied hatch. The sound made him feel both hope and dread, because he didn't know where he would end up once he made it through the damned thing.

When Michael came to a stop in front of the hatch, Dwight shakily asked, "Hey, d-do the killers have their o-own campfire after trials?"

"YES."

He bit his lip and said, "I m-must have been there when Jed found me. And he still has my shoes..." He flinched when the arms around him wound tighter. "Y-you wouldn't kill me at your campfire if I happened to appear there again, right?"

There was a tense moment where Michael didn't respond, until he eventually scrawled, "NO. BUT OTHERS MIGHT."

"Oh, joy. Then I guess we'll find out what happens to a s-survivor that dies outside of a trial..." He sighed and muttered, "I hate being the guinea pig every goddamn time in this place..."

Michael ran a soothing hand through his hair as he wrote, "WE DON'T STAY NEAR CAMPFIRE. I'LL BE THERE SOON." It was the most that he said in one go, and the fact that he only did so to sooth his worries made him feel happy, despite his constant anxiety around the man.

"O-okay. That's good to hear." He worried his lip and said, "Yeah, I... I think I'm as ready as I can be. Could you just drop me in? I'd rather not trip over the damn thing if I can help it."

The Shape hesitated, but eventually he picked up Dwight by the armpits and slowly lowered him into the hatch. The survivor looked up at him with a nervous smile, and said, "I've been having a really hard time without my glasses. So, thank you, for sparing me. It really means a lot to me." He was grateful that he didn't stutter that time, and closed his eyes when Michael's hands released him and let him fall into the void.

Dwight hoped that he would get to see his old friends soon, but if he couldn't, at least he had someone that would protect him back at the killer camp.

Chapter 4: Lust, Obsession, And Fear

Notes:

We're quickly treading into Rated E territory now. Happy reading ;)

Dwight felt weightless as he plummeted further down into the dark, swirling depths of the hatch.

He was only in there for but a moment, but he was relieved when the inky black air that encircled him parted into a brilliant light, and he finally exited the passageway. The experience always left him cold, and with the feeling that something was watching him very closely. So, while he was happy to escape certain death by utilizing them, he also felt an ingrained sense of unease every time he used one.

He landed on his stomach with a quiet, "Oof," as his breath was knocked out of him. Thankfully, he fell onto a surface that was softer than the ground, because he's already been bruised an embarrassing number of times from doing that already. A quick feel around him led him to believe that the thing he landed on was a sleeping bag. And by the silence that currently enveloped him, it was safe to say that he wasn't back at his old camp.

He sighed and hurried to place his hands underneath himself. Then he pushed himself up onto his hands and knees before he quickly settled onto his bottom. He worried his lower lip before he forced himself to look up, and his eyes widened comically when he noticed someone was literally less than a foot away from him. The person was crouched down and had dark hair like Jed, but their skin was slightly tanner than his.

Dwight had no clue who they were. All he knew was that the person wasn't Jed or Michael, and that terrified him. He couldn't see their weapon, their expressions, or their body language... For all he knew, the killer was gearing up to gut him, and he'd have no idea until his blood was already spilling past his skin to stain his clothes and the ground beneath him.

Dwight felt himself start to tremble while whoever was present stayed completely silent as they continued to stare him down. After some time passed without a knife in his gut, he swallowed nervously, and whispered, "H-hello?" When the killer didn't respond, Dwight felt his nerves skyrocket. He fidgeted with the end of his sleeve and looked away for a moment, before he looked back and said, "A-are you able to speak? I-if you're using ASL- I'm sorry, but I can't r-read it right now..."

He lifted his right hand and curled his pointer and middle finger before he pressed them both just under his eyes with his nose separating them. Then he slowly dropped his hand back down to his lap and frowned down at his clasped hands. "I can't see much of anything right now, but I'm sorry if my appearance scared you."

The silence was deafening after Dwight finished speaking. He forced himself to stay quiet for the time being by biting his lip and absently fidgeting with his hands while he gave the person some time to answer him.

After a minute of nothing but more staring, Dwight gave into the urge to bite one of his fingernails, and slowly brought it up to his mouth. Right as he put it in between his teeth, his wrist was grabbed in a tight grip. He couldn't help but to start trembling again, and let the person bring his arm down and away from his mouth. The killer didn't release his arm once it was settled back on his leg, which only set him on edge even more.

He flinched when the person loudly snapped their fingers and couldn't help but to flinch again when a man's voice broke the silence. "It took me some time, but the nail biting jogged my memory. You're the nerd that wore a red PizzaWhat shirt, right? Along with a hat and gloves?" At Dwight's hesitant nod, he said, "You clean up pretty nice."

Dwight briefly looked away and felt his cheeks warm at the compliment. "Th-thanks. I haven't seen it yet, s-so I'll just have to take your word for it." Then a flash of irritation crossed his face before he muttered, "A-and it's not like I get to choose what clothing the Entity r-rewards me with. I only wore my old pizza uniform because I was s-sick of wearing my intern outfit..."

"Right, the white button up with the pocket protector. Oh, and the red striped tie..." The man trailed off as if he was lost in thought. Maybe even picturing the outfit that he so creepily helpfully described. "I wish you'd wear that outfit again. Your ass looked so good in those fitted pants." Yep, he was totally picturing it.

Dwight swallowed and looked off to the side with closed eyes as he tried not to panic. It was concerning that the killer showed enough interest in him to remember past outfits of his. And both outfits were ones that he hasn't worn in a very long time. It would've been one thing if he only vaguely remembered them, but to know specific details about both of them after this long didn't sound good to Dwight. He didn't know who the person in front of him could be, but the thought of continuing this particular conversation made him beyond anxious.

And how was Dwight supposed to respond to that comment about his ass? He sure as hell wasn't going to thank him, and now he was even less inclined to wear his old intern outfit. He still didn't know how to proceed, but if he didn't say anything at all would that make him angry-

He startled when the man snapped his fingers right next to his ear, and hesitantly opened his eyes to look back at him. "There we go. That was real nice of you to tune me out." Thankfully the killer's tone was merely teasing, because Dwight was terrified of pissing him off.

He blushed and stammered out, "I-I'm sorry, I d-didn't mean to! It's just really hard for me to focus on a-anything right n-now." When the killer didn't interrupt him, he hurried to say, "The l-longer I don't have my glasses, the w-worse my eye strain gets." He clenched his hands and muttered, "E-even with the trial resetting me, this is the longest that I've gone without them in years. A-and I can't do anything about the pain besides closing my eyes..."

While the pain was there, it wasn't to the point where he'd actually shut out any conversations around him in an attempt to ease it yet, but what the killer didn't know wouldn't hurt him. And it's not like he could just come out and ask, "Why are you paying so much attention to my clothes?" Because he knew that he wouldn't like the answer. Yeah, it was better to just avoid that ticking time bomb for as long as possible.

Dwight's eyes slowly fell shut after he trailed off, and he was glad that the man didn't take offense. He murmured, "I-It doesn't help that I'm exhausted on top of that," before he started to slump forwards a bit. "If you're n-not gonna kill me, could you at least let me sleep? I've been in three back-to-back trials with m-maybe a half hour of sleep after my second-" He broke off into a loud yawn, which he covered with his free hand, before he rubbed the resulting tears from his eyes with his sleeve.

The man let out an incredulous, "You think you can fall asleep right next to me? A guy that's killed you more times than he can count?"

Dwight hesitated as he thought of what to say. His face colored slightly as he settled on, "Th-though the circumstances were very... Different... I've a-already passed out today with a killer n-nearby. I can probably do it again."

His wrist was gripped tighter as the man asked, "And just how different were these circumstances of yours?" When all Dwight did was blush more and look away, the killer took a different approach.

The man suddenly went from crouching next to Dwight, to kneeling into his space, and quickly pushed the survivor onto his back. Then he straddled Dwight with ease and caged him in with a hand on each side of his head. His voice deepened slightly as he cockily asked, "Is this jogging any memories?"

Dwight hesitated for a moment, before he quietly said, "O-one..."

The killer took in Dwight's wide eyes and burning face with a smirk before he lowered his arms just enough for their lips to brush against each other. His voice deepened further as he asked, "And how about now?"

Unbidden, the memory of Jed straddling him and slowly licking his ear replayed in his mind. Dwight trembled with a dark blush as he whispered, "Y-yes, but he-" The rest of his words were lost when the killer's lips firmly settled against his own. He froze in shock at the action, but jolted back to awareness when his bottom lip was bitten. His gasp made it all too easy for the man to slide his tongue inside, and the killer made a pleased sound as he started to explore every inch of Dwight's mouth like his life depended on it.

Dwight let out a muffled squeak and tried to push back against the man's chest to no avail as he took in quick, panicked breaths through his nose. He could only tremble as he felt the man pull him closer until one hand gently grasped his hair, while the other snaked its way under his sweater to spread out along his lower back.

He shivered when that hand began to travel across his bare skin, and the killer picked up on it right away. He ended the kiss to growl out, "You like that?" and dragged his nails along the survivor's back. When Dwight arched upwards with a loud gasp, he grinned before he quickly slipped his tongue right back inside. Dwight's whine of protest was muffled as the killer passionately twined their tongues together.

He didn't know when he closed his eyes, but they flew wide open when he felt something deliberately press against his crotch. After another nudge, he realized that it was a knee, and he tightly gripped the man's shirt with a moan that was eagerly swallowed by the killer when the pace began to pick up.

Once Dwight was constantly releasing muffled moans from the special attention, the killer snapped out of his lust filled haze and stopped touching him altogether. He pushed himself back onto his knees, and tried to catch his breath as he looked down at the panting man beneath him. Dwight's cheeks were flushed a pretty shade of red, and his dark brown eyes were dazed and blown nearly black with desire. His pink lips were swollen and shiny, and his fluffy black hair was thoroughly ruffled. All in all, he looked out of it, and so, completely desirable to the killer above him.

As he stood up, he sighed and said, "Fucking hell, Dwight. I should've hauled your ass back to my place as soon as you showed up. Someone could walk in at any time- I know that, and yet I still want to ride you like a fuckin' horse right here at the fire." Then the man let out a sharp breath before he suddenly went quiet.

Dwight tensed at his name, and after hearing the rest, he blushed heavily and stated, "Y-you knew who I was the wh-whole time." Then he fisted his sweater with closed eyes as he pleaded, "A-and please don't do that! I-I don't even know who you are, and I've n-never done any of... Th-this... Before..." He frowned as he trailed off in embarrassment. Hoping that his inexperience in anything sexual would make the killer lose interest in him.

When nobody answered him after a short while, Dwight frowned again and shakily brought himself up into a sitting position. He bit his lip at the slight friction that gave him and continued to ignore the uncomfortable pressure in his jeans. "H-hello? Are you s-still there... Ah!" He screamed when large hands hooked under his armpits from behind and suddenly dangled him high up into the air. Then those hands turned him around and pressed him against a toned chest.

His body was quickly guided into an unfortunately familiar position with his hands grasping at the back of a shirt while his legs were moved to wrap around the man's slim waist. What little amount of room that was in between his dick and the man's stomach was lost when an arm securely wrapped around his hips and pressed him even closer. Meanwhile, the killer's other arm wrapped around Dwight's upper back while his hand slid up to hold his head in place. Once he was fully secured, the man silently took off away from the camp at a brisk walk.

The pace he set was steady. Not quite jogging, but close to it. And each step caused Dwight's body to bounce slightly, which gave his trapped cock constant, delicious friction. His trembling hands gripped the man's shirt tighter and tighter the longer they went on.

He tried to keep quiet even as the feeling started to overwhelm him, but he couldn't stay silent forever. His hitched breathing eventually became quiet panting, and after a slightly bigger bounce, he let out a soft moan. The sound caused the man holding him to falter, but he picked his pace back up without comment, until he was nearly running.

Dwight was too turned on by then to quiet himself, and he let out a surprisingly high-pitched sound once the bouncing came a lot faster. Then he deliriously breathed out, "Holy... Shit... Please... Don't stop," and began to let out loud, breathy moans as he went from slightly turned on, to horny as hell.

His hard cock was constantly being rubbed for a couple more minutes before he whimpered and cried out, "Please! Please, I-I'm so close!" The hand on his head spasmed at that and grabbed a thick handful of his fluffy hair in response. A moment later he was given a much bigger bounce, and that finally pushed him over the edge. He let out a loud, desperate moan before he climaxed, and all of the tension left his body as he sagged further against his captor.

The constant bouncing didn't magically stop after he orgasmed, so he began to let out soft gasps and needy whines as he rode out his afterglow. Tears clung to his eyes at the overwhelming pleasure he was given, and he let out a low, pitiful whine right before they started running down.

He endured the endless rocking for a long while until his body couldn't handle it anymore. "I- I can't... Please... It's too much," he gasped out when the pleasure suddenly became painful. His hands desperately scratched at the man's back as his cock continued to be rubbed at a punishing pace, and he let out a loud sob when the pain spiked a bit higher. "Set me down! Please, just set me down!"

The hand on his head began to run soothingly through his hair, and thankfully, the man slowed his pace down. He went from jogging to a slow walk, and that severely reduced the amount of bouncing, and therefore friction, against his now painfully stimulated cock. He shook helplessly as they still continued on, and each pained whine caused his captor to run a soothing hand through his hair again.

Dwight nearly sobbed with relief when they finally stopped, and he took in shaky breaths as the man unlocked a door. He flinched when they started moving again, and immediately failed to hold back his pained sounds.

Once they stopped for the second time, he weakly muttered, "Please, let me go... I-It hurts so much." He buried his face into the guy's chest after speaking, and clenched his fists even harder around the man's shirt when he still didn't answer him. When the silence continued, he turned his face just enough to bitterly say, "W-why aren't you talking a-anymore? You had a lot to s-say before and after practically r-raping me at the fire..."

When the man merely held him tighter and gave his head a shaky, but still soothing, pet, he tensed up as it hit him. He wasn't being held by that killer right now.

No, this was someone else.

Chapter 5: Crossing So Many Boundaries

Notes:

Oh, man! You folks are in for a treat! This chapter just kept getting longer and longer, but it didn't make sense to break it up into two parts. I hope you all enjoy the extra length. Happy reading :)

Dwight thought hard about who could possibly be holding him. He went through what little he could tell in his blinded state, and it certainly painted a picture. The hand on his head was a lot bigger than the guy had at the fire, and the man's body was a lot larger than Jed's since he can't even press his face into his neck. Then there was the complete silence, the constant hair touching, and a near obsessive urge to keep holding him.

From his limited observations, all of the signs were pointing to one person- Michael Myers. If he was being held by The Shape... That meant that...

He tensed and panicked. "O-oh my god! Michael, I-I'm so sorry! Th-the guy at the fire... He h-held me down and... K-kept touching me..." He blushed hard and audibly swallowed before continuing. "Y-you pressed me a-against your stomach and trapped me there. I th-thought you were him, a-and that you did it on purpose..." His face burned even hotter as he mumbled, "T-to make me come on you..."

He trembled against the silent killer and hoped that he didn't piss the man off. "I'm s-sorry if it got on y-your clothes! I-I didn't mean f-for any o-of that to happen... P-please don't hurt me." He squeezed his eyes shut as the man stood stock still, and whimpered in pain when he began to move again.

Michael told him nothing as he carried him up a flight of stairs and took him through a door on the second floor. He stopped once he took a few steps in, and gently rubbed Dwight's back before he lifted the man by his armpits. Dwight grasped Michael's forearms in fear, and tensed up completely once he was laid down and felt his back touch a soft, comfortable surface.

The killer had just placed him on a bed, and he became a panicking mess again.

Dwight shook even more as he scooted back as far as he could go on the plush surface, and then curled up and hid his face behind his arms and knees. He was completely at the mercy of the much larger killer already, but Michael placing him here- after the day he's had... Well, it was no wonder that Dwight immediately thought the worst about his new situation.

"No, no, no, no, no..." Dwight didn't realize he was frantically repeating that same word over and over as he tried, and failed, to hold in his tears. He whimpered at the sound of movement and curled around himself even tighter when a large hand settled on top of his head. The prolonged touch made him panic even more, and he blurted out, "P-please don't do th-this! I-I'm still a v-virgin! I'm n-not worth sleeping with!"

Dwight bit his lip hard when Michael took to running his fingers through his hair, and he let out a sob when his arms were pulled away from his face. He closed his eyes in terror and let out a quiet, "Please," before he felt a large thumb brush against his cheek. Michael gently swiped away a tear that was rolling down his face. Then he picked up the distressed survivor and held him against his chest. A mask free chin settled on top of his head right after, while one hand soothingly rubbed his back over his clothes.

When Dwight's trembling still didn't stop, Michael gently set him down on the edge of the bed and took the man's hand in his. Then he quickly wrote, "DIDN'T MEAN TO SCARE. NEED TO SHOWER. WAIT HERE FOR YOURS," onto his palm.

Dwight let out a shuddering breath. "Th-then you're not m-mad at me?"

"NO. HELD YOU CLOSE TO ESCAPE. WASN'T YOUR FAULT."

Dwight slowly opened his eyes and breathed out, "O-okay, that's good. I-I'm sorry I overreacted..."

A thumb gently slid across his cheek again before he scrawled, "YOU DIDN'T. FROM WHAT I SAW I SHOULD HAVE WARNED YOU."

Dwight looked away with a blush. "H-how much of it d-did you see?"

Michael quickly wrote, "ENOUGH," before he paused. "SINCE YOU TRIED TO PUSH HIM AWAY."

Dwight's face burned darker. "O-oh..." He opened his mouth to ask something, but he hesitated to speak his mind. In the end, he closed his mouth with a small frown and fiddled with his sleeve instead.

Thankfully, Michael answered the question that Dwight was too scared to ask. "STAYED HIDDEN AND SNAPPED HIS NECK WHEN CLOSE. GOT AWAY BEFORE HE CAME BACK."

"S-so, he really didn't see y-you?"

"NO."

"Th-then he doesn't know where I am..."

The mere thought of being safe from that killer brought a huge smile to his face. A few more tears escaped from his eyes as he gently grasped Michael's hand, and then stood up to hug the gigantic man. He was careful to avoid pressing his lower body against him, as he tearfully exclaimed, "Thank you! He didn't ask if I w-wanted any of that. He just took and took. I-I thought he was going to rape me right there, a-and that he wouldn't care if he hurt me..."

Michael slowly untensed from the sudden contact and was carefully rubbing Dwight's back in soothing circles by the end of his speech. After a long moment of silence, he gently pried Dwight's arms off of him, and guided him back to sit on the bed. Then he wrote, "BACK SOON," on Dwight's palm again, before he left and shut the door behind him.

When Dwight heard the sound of something being dragged in front of the door, he let out a quiet sigh. Why would he try to escape from the one killer that hasn't purposefully tried to molest him so far? Yes, he was touched a lot more than he expected by the much taller man, but he wasn't tied to a bed with his pants taken off or straddled with the man's tongue down his throat. He could handle the gentle touches to his head and back.

With that being said- Dwight hoped that The Shape wouldn't change his mind and force himself on him after his shower. He didn't think that Michael was even attracted to him in that way, but rape wasn't always about attraction. It could simply be about feeling control and power over another person, and that person could easily be Dwight...

He bit his lip and tried to tell himself that the killer wouldn't do that to him. Michael put a stop to that kind of behavior before, so hopefully that extended to not doing that to Dwight, himself.

Dwight dug his fingers into the soft fabric of his sweater and tried not to think about his tentative situation anymore. There wasn't a whole lot for the blind man to distract himself with though, so he laid further back onto the plush covers and rested his eyes while he waited for Michael to return. He was grateful for the reprieve, since his eyestrain was starting to give him a pretty bad headache, and crying only made it worse.

---

He wasn't sure how much time had passed, but Michael was gone long enough for Dwight to drift off into a light doze. He didn't hear the killer unblock the door or even come back into the room. He just went from sleeping, to gently being shaken awake by the man, and blinked dazedly before he did a full body stretch. A satisfied moan left his body at the delightful feeling, and he slowly rubbed one eye as he sleepily muttered, "Michael? I didn't hear you come in."

Michael released a huff of air before he gently ran his fingers through Dwight's locks. He didn't bother with responding to the survivor. Instead, he simply placed his arms under the man's back and knees, and then lifted him up to cradle him against his chest. Dwight was too tired to protest, so he let his head rest against the killer with closed eyes as he was taken out of the bedroom.

His impromptu ride lasted for less than a minute before they reached their destination. The feeling of hot steam hitting his skin was a dead giveaway, and he could honestly say that he was excited to have his first shower in over two years. Yeah, the Entity got rid of any blood, sweat, and dirt every time they were brought to and from trials, but that was nowhere near the same as feeling the hot spray of a shower relaxing your tense muscles and getting rid of any lingering stress from the day.

He wouldn't refuse a hot bath either, but he knew that he'd probably pass out again if he was laying in one alone. And the thought of appearing back with Mr. Bad Touch after he drowned wasn't high on his to-do list.

Michael set down his half-asleep guest and put a steadying hand on his lower back when the man immediately stumbled backwards. Seeing him struggle to keep his eyes open was a welcome sight, as it made him feel a little better for what he was about to do. What he felt an overwhelming urge to do.

When Dwight regained his balance, he covered a yawn before he said, "U-Um, Michael? Is there a towel for me to use? I really need to get out of these clothes, but I don't want to walk around naked until my n-next trial..." At that, Dwight looked down with an embarrassed blush, and he hoped like hell that the killer had an extra towel.

Michael simply wrote, "YES," on Dwight's hand before he tucked his pointer fingers under the man's sweater and started to slowly pull it up.

"W-what are you doing?! I can undress m-myself-"

Dwight gasped as those fingers lightly dragged along his sides, and he tried to back away from him. His back hit the wall after one step, and he closed his eyes with bright red cheeks as the man easily pulled his sweater up and over his head.

Dwight wrapped his arms around himself with a whimper, and trembled when Michael quickly undid his jeans and then settled his fingers inside of his waistband. "Please d-don't..." He buried his face in his hands when the man ignored him to pull them down in one go, and he let out a muffled, "No," when his dirty boxers quickly followed.

He was sure that he looked like a mess after what happened on their way to the killer's house, and he wrongly thought that he would get some much-needed privacy to clean it all up. But now his boxers were pulled down to his ankles, and he's never felt so exposed in his life. His shaky hands quickly went from covering his face, to hovering over his groin, as he tried and failed to keep what was left of his dignity intact.

"W-why are you d-doing this?!"

He felt a thump from the floor right in front of him, and tears came to his eyes when he realized that Michael was kneeling in front of him now.

"D-don't!"

Dwight's plea was ignored as the man got a lot closer to him, and carefully lifted his feet to remove his socks along with his bunched-up clothing. He whimpered at the feeling of Michael's hot breath on his stomach, and squeezed his eyes shut even tighter when both of his hands were suddenly grabbed and lifted away from his crotch.

"N-no! Please don't do th-this!" A few tears fell down his face as he became even more exposed by the killer, and he let out a pitiful whine when a warm, wet towel pressed against his still sensitive dick.

The man's other hand took to rubbing his thumb in small circles over one of Dwight's captured wrists as he carefully wiped up the survivor's mess. After a mortifying minute of gentle, thorough cleaning, Dwight's hands were released, and the killer backed away just far enough for him to safely stand back up. Dwight was a crying, trembling mess by then, and quickly covered his manhood with shaking hands once he was able.

All Dwight could get out was a shaken, "Why," as he leaned as far back against the wall as he could. Michael didn't answer him, and instead moved away to turn the shower on.

Dwight let out a shaky breath, as he thought that Michael was finally giving him some privacy. He hesitantly moved towards the sound of the shower but paused when he realized that he never heard Michael leave the room. He bit his lip hard enough to bleed, and forced himself to ask, "Are you still here to sh-show me where the soap a-and the shampoo are? I-I'm sure that I can f-figure that out on my own..."

He stood still as he waited for the door to close and cried out when arms suddenly wrapped around his chest from behind. Then he was pulled backwards against a fucking wall of muscle, and he let out a horrified squeak at feeling a dick press against the middle of his back. Thankfully it wasn't hard, but the experience was still terrifying for the blind virgin.

"W-why are you naked?! You already showered!" He was sure that his face was somehow blushing like mad and paling at the same time, as he struggled to free himself from the brick wall behind him. Sadly, his struggles were in vain, as the arms around him didn't let him budge even an inch out of place.

He was lifted a little bit off of the ground before the killer walked them closer to the shower. Then he was set down and let go once he was fully under the hot spray. He let out an involuntary moan at the wonderful feeling that he's been denied for years, but he immediately covered his crotch right after, and quickly turned around to face his captor. 

Dwight cleared his throat and stuttered out, "Th-that sound wasn't an i-invitation to t-touch me. N-now please leave the bathroom. I can't wash myself i-if you're watching me." He really tried, but his stern voice faltered into a scared tone almost right away. The giant of a man was just too intimidating.

Dwight didn't need his glasses to know that Michael was standing completely still in what must have been his walk-in shower, or that Michael hasn't stopped staring at him in silence ever since he set him down. The images alone were unnerving by themselves, but the fact that both of them were naked scared him a lot more.

Dwight bit his lip hard when Michael didn't leave, and he took a quick step back when the man walked towards him instead. Then the same thing happened again, but that time Michael boxed him in against a wall. Dwight shook as he held up his hands in defense. "Please, don't touch m-me!"

He whimpered when both of his arms were grabbed and then he was pulled against the killer's chest. Feeling the front of the man's naked body fully pressed against his own made him shake even more, and he started crying as he realized that this killer wasn't all that different than the other two. He just had more patience to wait for what he wanted.

He sagged against Michael in defeat, and cried even harder as his breathing became ragged. "W-why does this keep h-happening t-to me? I-I don't w-want-" He barely got the words out before he broke down and started to sob. Michael's arms securely wrapped around him right after, and one hand gently massaged the back of his neck as he cried himself into exhaustion. Eventually, Dwight's sobbing turned into pitiful sniffling as he loosely held onto his captor.

Michael waited for a while, and then lifted him up and walked them out of the shower. His feet were placed back on the ground once they stopped, and something that felt like a tissue was suddenly pressed against his face. He took it with a shaky hand and blew his nose into it a few times before he grimaced. He had no clue what to do with it now.

The killer quickly took the dirty tissue and dealt with it himself before he lifted him again and walked them both back under the hot spray of the shower. By that point, Dwight didn't have any fight left in him, and was tiredly leaning most of his weight against Michael. His eyes were closed as he waited for his next move.

Dwight heard what sounded like a cap opening, before both of Michael's hands left him. He gasped and clung tighter to the man, as he didn't have any faith in his legs to hold himself up right now.

A moment later, Michael's hands settled in his hair and lightly ran over his scalp. He tightened his grip at the initial touch, but soon found himself going boneless as the killer continued to rub the shampoo carefully into his skin. He let out soft sighs and felt his breathing begin to deepen as the hot water hit his back and mixed perfectly with the gentle touches to his head. His hair was rinsed with the same amount of careful precision, and Dwight couldn't help but to enjoy the care that he was forced to receive.

When he was moved out of the spray of the water, those skilled fingers left his hair, and he let out a quiet whine before he pressed his face against the man's chest in embarrassment. Michael gently rubbed his back in consolation, but his hands returned to Dwight's hair soon enough with what must have been conditioner. The pleasant-smelling moisturizer was applied to his locks with the same skill as the shampoo, and after some time, it was washed away just the same.

And that left only one thing- applying the soap. Dwight lightly trembled at the thought of the killer's hands gliding over even more of his exposed skin. He knew there was no stopping Michael from his sudden obsession with cleaning him, so he went back to hiding his face against the man's chest as he waited to see what he would do.

The killer wasted no time in grabbing what he needed in order to finish washing his new house guest. Some liquid soap was quickly applied to a shower sponge before he began to lather it over most of Dwight's body. The survivor in question took to the sponge better than he expected, so he was able to maneuver him as he pleased without any resistance. The only place he really avoided was Dwight's groin, as it would be cruel of him to irritate his skin again, and especially when he already cleaned there earlier.

Once he was completely done with cleaning and rinsing off Dwight, Michael continued to hold him against his chest, and simply let him enjoy the soothing water running down his skin. He started to gently massage the back of Dwight's neck again as the man leaned completely against him, and he was finally content for the first time in a long, long while.

Now that he knew survivors could somehow cross into their territory, Michael was prepared to do whatever it took to keep him here. He knew that Dwight would probably be dragged into another trial before he found out how, but he could always get him back.

He was sure that what happened earlier wasn't a fluke. Dwight would likely appear at the killer campsite after every trial he took part in, and if he wasn't in one himself, then Michael would be patiently waiting there for his little one to return. The blind survivor was too sweet to leave at the hands of his fellow killers, after all.

He looked down at his innocent boy's face at that thought and saw that he was fast asleep with his head nestled against his chest.

Yes, Dwight will be much better off staying with him.

Chapter 6: Clueless Seduction

Notes:

My god, this chapter kicked my ass with how much editing I needed to do. The smut (yes, there be smut here) and general wording kept needing to be tweaked, but I'm finally done now. Hope you all enjoy ;)

Dwight came to with a soft groan and stayed still as he tried to lift the fog from his eyes. He had no idea where he was. He vaguely remembered taking a shower of all things, but he didn't remember anything afterwards.

His body was warmer than he thought it would be, given the circumstances. Dwight was aware enough now to feel that there wasn't a blanket covering him, but someone had completely wrapped themselves around him as he slept. His back was pressed against a toned body, and one of their legs was thrown over him to keep him in place. Meanwhile, he felt arms wrapped around his side and hips, and large hands were fully splayed over his chest and stomach.

He trembled when he realized that he was feeling skin to skin contact practically everywhere, as he was completely naked in the man's bed, while the other guy was only wearing boxers as he cuddled with him. His face heated up at the intimate position that he found himself in, and his breath hitched when the man behind him adjusted his arms to hold him even closer.

They laid there in silence for a while before anything else changed. Unsurprisingly, it was his captor that decided to switch things up again.

Dwight barely held back a whine when the killer suddenly buried his face into the nape of his neck and began to nuzzle it. He felt their nose start to wander over his skin, and he closed his eyes tight once their lips rested against his neck. His face heated up even more when a thumb began to gently rub around his belly button in a slow, sensual motion.

Dwight bit his lip when the hand on his chest was suddenly replaced by wandering fingers. The feeling of nails trailing over his skin made him pale at the mere thought of this man being Michael, and his eyes flew wide open when those fingers carefully wrote, "GOOD MORNING," before they returned to gently traveling every which way over his torso.

"Good morning, Michael..." His voice was quiet as he tried to process that The Shape was right behind him, and that he was wrapped around him like a possessive lover.

The killer let out a hum at his response, before he quickly wrote, "SLEEP WELL?"

"Y-yes. I-I think so..." Dwight didn't know what to say after that. He was honestly overwhelmed by Michael acting like this.

From what Laurie shared about The Shape, none of this should be happening.

She told him that Michael didn't discriminate in who he marked for death. How his face was always blank, but his eyes held a darkness in them. That he didn't speak, and that he only cared about stalking and killing people- usually around Halloween.

After talking with her later, Laurie told him that Michael hated to take his mask off, and that he was only obsessed with her because they were related, and because she wasn't easy prey. She put up a good fight and managed to get away from the killer multiple times before they were both dragged here into the Entity's realm.

Well, that definitely wasn't Michael's mask that was pressing into his neck right now, and Dwight was sure as hell not a badass like Laurie Strode, or even related to her. Nor was he able to escape from the man without his glasses. He knew that he was helpless without them, and that even if he had them on right now, there still wasn't anything that he could do to get away from him.

Dwight was brought out of his thoughts when Michael nuzzled his neck again with a pleased sigh. He blushed and stuttered out, "H-how long was I asleep? I don't r-remember passing out-" His voice went a lot higher at the end, but that was fairly understandable. At the time, one of Michael's fingers circled around and then right over his nipple. When it gently trailed away, only to go right back over it again, Dwight moaned and said, "Please s-stop..." He tried to break out of his hold, and whimpered when the arms around him merely held him a little tighter.

"STOP WHAT?" Those damn fingers went right back to gliding over his chest, and Dwight moaned a little louder when one suddenly grazed his other nipple.

He shakily cried out, "P-please stop! Th-they're sensitive!"

He arched his back and practically screamed out a surprised moan when a fingernail suddenly circled over his entire nipple instead of briefly skimming it. The finger retreated almost immediately after, like it was burned, and then Michael lowered both of his hands so that the one on his chest went to his stomach, while the other one gently rested over his hip. Dwight panted hard as he tried to calm down, but it was so difficult to do that.

Not being able to see heightened his awareness of certain things. Sounds, smells, but currently, it was touch.

And he could feel so many things right now.

The heat seeping into his skin from the hot, muscular body that surrounded him. Michael's toned chest and stomach pressing firmly against his back along with the strong, sinewy arms that securely wrapped around him. The man's large hands that curled around Dwight's hip and splayed over his stomach. And to top it all off, Michael's long leg rested over both of Dwight's own, which caged him in even further.

Dwight could clearly picture just how naked they both were, and how completely trapped he was by the unfairly attractive man. And he couldn't stop thinking that those large hands were both so close to touching and curling around something else.

He squirmed with a heavy blush when his dick started to rise. Michael nuzzling his neck and rubbing gentle circles over his hip certainly didn't help things, and he bit his lip when he felt his arousal grow even stronger.

Dwight swallowed hard, and timidly said, "Please l-let me go. I-I'd like to take a shower by myself, i-if that's okay..." He squeezed his eyes shut and prayed that the man wouldn't keep him here.

Michael stilled, before he slowly wrote, "OKAY," on his stomach. He carefully extracted his leg from Dwight's. Then before the survivor could react, Michael sat up and quickly brought his right arm underneath Dwight's legs while his left one wrapped around his back. The smaller man stiffened at the contact, and cried out when he was lifted up and cradled against Michael's chest. 

With how the killer picked him up, there was no way that he didn't see it. Even so, Dwight panicked and tried to cover up his erection as much as he could. His face burned hot, and tears came to his eyes as he stuttered out, "Y-you wouldn't s-stop touching me! I couldn't h-help it..."

Dwight closed his eyes and let out a shaky breath. He wanted to cover himself with his hands and follow after the killer to the bathroom, but he should've known that Michael would want to carry him...

At Dwight's words, Michael held him closer, and then fully stood up to take him outside of the bedroom. He was careful not to jostle him, and gently set him down once they made it to their destination. Dwight stood with hunched shoulders and trembled as he did his best to cover himself. He bit his lip before he hesitantly asked, "C-can you please turn on the shower before you go?"

When Michael went and did just that, Dwight stayed in place for a moment, before he gulped and then took small steps towards the sound of running water. Thankfully he made it inside of the open shower without tripping over anything, and at the sound of a door closing, he stepped into the spray.

The water was just as hot as it was last night, and it felt heavenly on his already flushed skin. He fully walked under the spray just to relax and get his hair wet, and then he stepped backwards until he was pressed against a wall. His fists clenched as he debated on if he was really going to do this, but he was already here, and his aching cock was so very desperate for some contact.

Dwight let out a deep sigh before he got to work. His left hand trailed down his side and hip while his right hand took a firm grip of his shaft. He slowly ghosted his fingers back up to his chest and gently rubbed his hardening nipple with two of them while he gave his needy cock one slow pump. 

He moaned into the empty room as he continued to rub and pinch his sensitive nipple while his other hand moved down to cup his balls. He fondled them for a bit before he switched back to gripping his hard length, and he gave it a gentle squeeze before he ran his hand up his shaft and swirled his thumb over the tip. His back arched as he cried out in pleasure, and loud panting filled the room when he rubbed over his sensitive tip once again.

Dwight leaned against the wall heavily as he forced himself to stop and brought his left hand up to his lips. He placed his pointer and middle finger into his mouth without hesitation and twirled his tongue over the warm digits with gusto. Then he went back to fondling his balls while he sucked and licked his fingers, and he moaned around them when he thought of just how good this was going to feel.

He hasn't touched himself like this since before he was taken by the Entity. There was never enough privacy for him to feel safe enough to do it, so he was only left with quick, unsatisfying hand jobs when he rarely ventured out into the woods alone.

Well, he was finally safe and alone in a closed room, so today he was going to take his time and fuck himself until he saw some goddamn stars.

After his fingers were coated with enough saliva, Dwight popped them out of his mouth and trailed them down his stomach. He shivered at the sensation and bit his lip in nervous excitement. Then he made sure his legs were locked and far enough apart before he swirled his pointer finger around his hole and gasped at the pleasant sensation.

Dwight began to pump his neglected cock as he continued to tease his tight, eager hole. He gently prodded it with a moan, and started to slowly slide it in once his cock's pleasure grew distracting enough.

Once it was pushed up to the knuckle, Dwight stopped moving it, and stopped stroking himself as well. He waited for a short time before he started to move them again, and began to search for his prize with slow, gentle thrusts.

It took him some time, but the wait was worth it. Once he found the little bundle of nerves, he jerked his hips forwards with a loud, strangled moan.

"Fuck."

Dwight eagerly thrusted his finger at that angle over and over as he stroked himself at the same time. His eyes closed as he lost himself in the feeling, and after some time, did he stop thrusting to adjust his legs and then add a second finger. His mouth opened slightly at how tight his ass felt around them, and he started to drool once he picked up the pace again. His slick fingers firmly pressed up against his sweet spot every time, and he couldn't help but to moan constantly as he finally began to satisfy his sexual needs.

Then he really got into it and started begging, "Please, go faster... Yes, fuck me harder! Please... Please!" He devolved into a moaning, drooling mess after that, but his fantasy of getting absolutely railed by someone continued on in his head undeterred. The lewd sound of his balls slapping against his hand as he stroked himself only turned him on even more, and he knew that he wasn't going to last for much longer.

Dwight whimpered when his arousal began to build up to its peak. He desperately chased his orgasm with faster and faster thrusts against his prostate, and picked up the pace on stroking his aching cock until he clenched hard over his fingers and came with a loud, desperate cry. He shuddered when he felt his cum splatter over his stomach and chest, but he didn't stop there.

He continued to stroke his leaking cock and milked his prostate with high, breathy moans as his hips jerked shakily from the stimulation. His legs began to tremble from trying to hold his position, and after a much shorter time, did his ass clench before he cried out and sprayed another load of cum all over his stomach.

The survivor panted before he muttered, "Fuck, I can't keep this up..."

Standing in a shower while he fingerfucked himself was a new and fun experience, but his legs were protesting too much for him to try for round three.

Before the Entity took him, he usually fucked himself on his bed so that he could lay back, relax, and squirm around as much as he wanted to. Unfortunately, there was no way in hell that he'd ever get his own bed in this place. Or at least, not for a very long time. It took him a year, or at least what felt like a year, just to get his small tent, so he wasn't holding his breath any time soon.

Dwight knew his body's limits, so he gradually slowed his pace down until he stopped moving both hands with a long, satisfied sigh. Then he eased his fingers out of himself and leaned fully against the wall with a small, dreamy smile as he basked in the afterglow.

Once he caught his breath, he decided that he should probably start washing up before the water ran cold. He wasn't sure just how much warm water the killer was allowed, but he didn't want to find that out the hard way...

Dwight pushed off the wall with shaky legs and stepped back under the still pleasantly hot spray. He moaned in appreciation at how delightful it felt right after an orgasm, and simply stood there with his eyes closed as the water ran down his neck and began to clean everything below it.

He hummed happily before he dunked his head under the water, but once he stepped back, he gasped as he ran into a hard wall of muscle. An arm loosely wrapped around his waist to keep him there, and he flinched and let out a scared whine at the contact.

His attempt at leaving the man's side caused the arm around him to tighten, so he gave up and swallowed before he nervously said, "W-why are you in here? I d-didn't hear you come in..."

"NEED TO WASH YOU. NEVER LEFT." The words were written on his chest, but his fingers thankfully avoided anything sensitive.

Dwight felt his jaw drop at that. "What the fuck, Michael!"

The killer's arm held him even closer. "YOU COULD FALL. SO STAYED NEAR."

Dwight trembled as he took in what Michael wasn't saying. "I-I thought I was a-alone, but you were in here th-the whole time..." He closed his eyes with a groan before he bitterly asked, "Well, d-did you enjoy the show I didn't know I was putting on?"  He kept his eyes closed in mortification as he waited for him to say something.

After a long pause, the man's large finger slowly wrote, "YES."

Dwight's breath hitched at the confession. He didn't expect for Michael to admit to watching him, let alone to tell him that he liked it.

The killer's letters came quickly now. "DIDN'T PLAN TO. GOT CURIOUS." He hesitated for a bit, but eventually wrote, "NEVER SAW SOMEONE TOUCHED LIKE THAT. COULDN'T LOOK AWAY."

Dwight's face was burning at the bomb Michael just dropped. Potentially multiple bombs by the looks of it, since what he told him could be taken a few different ways...

He cleared his throat before he quietly asked, "W-when did you start looking?" He shouldn't have asked that question, but that was the first thing that came to mind, and he had to say something after all of that. 

Michael waited a moment, before he wrote, "YOU WERE RUBBING YOUR CHEST."

Dwight felt his ears start to burn and squirmed at the killer's answer. He was rubbing his nipple practically right away. So, Michael did actually watch him the whole time...

He opened his mouth, but he couldn't get any words out as he floundered for something to say. Then he realized something. Michael's dick was soft against his back, and if he watched the whole show and liked it, then... He tensed up.

His mouth ran dry as he said, "Y-you got off from w-watching me..." He trembled harder when all Michael did was curl further around him.

"YES. COPIED YOU. NOW CLEAN UP."

Michael copied him?

The killer didn't give him any time to process that bit of information before he looped a shower sponge over his wrist and squirted some soap onto it. Then he finally let Dwight go so he could lather and then slowly glide the sponge over his back. 

Dwight bit his lip but stayed quiet since Michael's done this before without getting handsy. He kept his eyes shut and just let the killer maneuver him around as he diligently cleaned his skin. The survivor let out a relieved sigh when he was done, and dunked his head under the water one more time before Michael guided him out of the way.

The killer took far less time cleaning himself off before he turned off the water. Then he turned Dwight around, lifted him up by the armpits, and carried him out of the shower.

Dwight felt like a small child for all of five seconds before he was carefully set down, and his wrists were gently pulled until his elbows rested against a solid surface. He trembled and swallowed nervously as the man crowded against him and he closed his eyes tight at feeling a dick fully press against his back again.

"P-please d-don't-" was all he was able to squeak out before he heard running water. He tentatively opened his eyes at the sound, and flinched when his hands were engulfed by Michael's much larger, soapy ones. He blushed heavily at what they must look like- Michael was pressed up against him and washing both of their hands while they were completely nude. He couldn't help but to duck his head and closed his eyes in embarrassment.

Once Michael deemed their hands clean enough, he completely toweled off Dwight's body before he did the same for himself. Then Michael stepped away and scared the hell out of him by picking him up and cradling him against his chest. Dwight was shaking from the sudden movement and hid his crotch behind his hands as the killer casually walked them both out of the bathroom.

He let out a soft, "Oof," when he was dropped onto the edge of a bed, and then wrapped his arms around himself with a frown. "Michael? I-I thought you said that I could keep a towel on..." Dwight shivered both from fear, and from losing precious body heat as he waited for the killer to answer him.

He flinched when he felt legs press against the outside of his and cried out when the man grabbed his arms, switched to holding them both in one of his hands, and then easily brought his wrists above his head. "N-no, please s-stop!" He closed his eyes with a whimper before the man stopped moving, and simply held him in place. He trembled harder when nothing else happened and flinched again when the man dropped one of his hands, only to guide the other through something soft.

The survivor slowly opened his teary eyes once he realized that Michael was just trying to dress him. Because of course he had to do it in the scariest way possible.

Dwight bit his lip before he slowly raised his other hand up on his own. He still startled when the man suddenly touched that hand, but at least he knew why it was happening now.

The fabric was carefully moved over his arms before the killer pulled the shirt over his head and let it cover the rest of his torso. Then Michael stepped away and dropped to his knees with a quiet thump. Dwight immediately covered his groin as best as he could at the sound, and flinched when his feet were quickly grabbed and guided into a soft pair of shorts. He blushed hard when he was grabbed by his hips and pulled up into a standing position, and failed to even attempt to lift the clothing before Michael took them in hand and pulled them up himself.

It only took a moment for Dwight to realize that he was now completely dressed in the killer's clothes. The short-sleeved shirt pooled low over his lap and hung off of his shoulder, while the shorts were loose on his hips and definitely needed to be tied. They were way too big for him, and he only hoped that they wouldn't randomly fall off whenever Michael decided to pick him up again. The man in question seemed to realize that problem, because his hands darted to tie his shorts before he could even check if that was possible.

Once Dwight's modesty was restored, Michael quickly threw on a pair of boxers and some comfy sweatpants. Then he picked him up and placed him in the tried-and-true happy ending position before he set off for the first floor.

He knew that his little one would want to spend some time away from the bed after what just happened, and he was more than happy to sit with him on the couch. Dwight would be wrapped in his arms either way.

Notes:

So, Michael finally showed his pervy side in this one. Though he immediately flipped the switch right back to caretaking mode afterwards...

I'll be honest, I wasn't expecting to write some solo Dwight sexy time until the chapter suddenly went in that direction, lol. And that Michael was totally into it and told him straight up that he watched was also not in the plans, but I love how this turned out ;)

Chapter 7: Through The Eyes Of Another

Notes:

* Let's sum up what happened with Dwight's three very horny boys so far.

The first guy took a bunch of pictures of him, trapped him in his lap and pet him, groped his ass, took him home against his will, tied him up on his bed, teased his ear, stripped him, and most likely took more than a few pictures of him sleeping before he held him close as they both slept...

The second guy saved Dwight from the third one, but he still held him against his will and pet him, completely stripped him, washed him, held him naked and close as they both slept, and secretly watched and got off to Dwight fucking himself in the shower...

And the third guy didn't give out his name, and barely had a conversation with him before he shoved his tongue in Dwight's mouth, rubbed him off through his jeans, and confessed that he was more than tempted to fuck him right there at the campfire...

Jesus, they're all thirsty as hell 😏🤭

* Also, there's a nice little treat at the end of this chapter :)

Michael took them both down to the first floor in no time before he lifted Dwight up and set him down on the couch. His little one sunk into the soft cushions without any protest, but he started to shiver soon after, and wrapped his arms around his middle as he tried to warm himself up. Michael couldn't have that, so he quickly wrote, "STAY HERE," on Dwight's arm before he moved away to get what he needed.

He came back a couple minutes later to find that the survivor had curled his legs underneath himself for warmth, and he had a small frown as he still trembled from the cold. Michael set both of his items down nearby before he picked Dwight up, turned him around, and then sat down on the couch with his companion seated comfortably on his lap. Then he loosely wrapped his arm around the man before he relaxed and simply enjoyed his presence.

Dwight tensed up at their new position at first, but eventually leaned back against his chest when he didn't do anything further. The survivor's small squeak when he nosed the side of his neck right after was too adorable to ignore, so he wrapped his other arm around Dwight's stomach and held him even closer while he continued to nuzzle the soft, warm skin that was before him.

Feeling that lovely neck swallow hard had him briefly look up, and he contentedly went back to nuzzling him once he saw the dark blush that took over his little one's face. That both of his eyes were closed only made him cuter, and he was happy to let him know by nuzzling his flushed cheek before he went back down to focus on his neck.

Now, Michael knew that he was coming on way too strong, but he couldn't seem to tone it down now that he truly had the smaller man all to himself.

He's always had a growing interest in Dwight ever since he first saw him, but he dismissed it as mere excitement at facing off against a tricky opponent. That his feelings always became a lot more intense whenever he managed to grab the survivor was also written off as a healthy dose of bloodlust. Dwight was a lot harder to track down than most, after all, so Michael didn't realize what those feelings truly meant until he saw the leader in his last trial. 

---

It took less than a minute before he found Dwight laying on a dirty mattress, curled up on his side, and shivering with a frown on his face as he was passed out cold. His jeans were pulled almost all the way off of him, and they barely hung off the edge of his light gray, socked foot.

He's never seen a survivor spawn in such a state before, and the fact that it happened to the anxious and careful little man woke up something in him. Concern, and a surprising amount of possessiveness something else that he couldn't quite put into words.

A quick glance around the room confirmed that Dwight didn't spawn here with his glasses or shoes, and the concern that he felt for the survivor practically overwhelmed him with how strong it was. He clenched his fist hard around his kitchen knife as he wondered who did something to him. Because surely, someone must have done something for him to be in this state of undress. And once he found out who, he was going to gut them. Slowly.

That Dwight slept through the summoning was a huge red flag by itself. He's never done that before. Hell, no one but The Dreamwalker has ever done that before. So, for the survivor to keep sleeping even when he was so uncomfortably cold... Well, it suggested that he was so exhausted that he simply couldn't wake up to answer the call.

He could feel his anger come back in full force as he furiously thought about which of Dwight's allies could've hurt him. Any bruising or other injuries would've faded once he was brought here, so he couldn't compare lingering handprints or other evidence. Though he could still get an answer out of the man once he woke up. Which reminded him...

Michael took a long look at his shivering obsession before he tore himself away with a frustrated huff. He needed to kill the others so that he could tend to the unconscious man. Yes... Any one of them could've put Dwight in this state, so he had to work fast. There was no way that he would let any of them escape. Not this time.

He set off with a determined stride as he felt his rage bubble up to new heights.

They'd better be ready for him.

---

Michael rested his cheek against Dwight's slightly damp hair and sighed at yesterday's memory. He did manage to seek out and hook all three of the other survivors to death, and their faces were seared into his memory. The Soldier, The Scrapper, and The Gambler... He didn't care for their true names, but he knew that none of them were called Jed.

And wasn't that the real kicker. That after killing all three of them, it turned out that the one person who hurt Dwight that day was one of his fellow killers. How that was possible was a mystery, considering their total separation after trials... Well, until now. Poor Dwight seemed to be stuck on their side of the veil.

Michael didn't know why that happened, but he was beyond happy that he could keep his little one close. Though, if he ever found out who "Jed" was, then they would be getting a surprise house call in the near future. But not before he got a hold of that unnamed killer that he saw back at the fire. Oh, how he was looking forward to wringing that man's fucking neck. Tighter and tighter until he popped like a fucking grape-

He was brought out of his violent thoughts by a pained whimper. Immediately after, Dwight cried out, "M-Michael!" The survivor's voice was high pitched and desperate, and once Michael heard it, he quickly loosened his hold. He didn't mean to take his rage out on his smaller companion, so he rubbed his hip through his shirt and gave his neck a chaste kiss before he gently nuzzled it again in apology.

Then he spread Dwight's palm out on his lap so he could write, "DIDN'T MEAN TO HURT. WHO WAS WITH YOU AT THE FIRE?"

Hopefully Dwight could give him some answers, because Michael knew that he wouldn't recognize the prick if he saw him later, and that pissed him off to no end.

He didn't know who the man was at all. The killers that wore masks tended to leave them on until they were safe inside their homes, and he was never interested in remembering them before all of this.

Because of that, all he had eyes for was Dwight's trembling form as his aggressor bore down on him. And once Michael got close enough, the killer was swiftly dragged away from behind and dealt with. Then he promptly scooped up Dwight right as the man's cooling corpse hit the ground.

They needed to get far enough away so that the killer couldn't track them once he came back. Michael knew that, so instead of getting a better look at him, he booked it back home immediately after he picked up Dwight.

Now, he was almost regretting that decision. Almost.

"Umm, I-I don't know... That was the first time I talked to him, and he didn't say his name. All I could tell was that he had black hair just like Jed. O-oh, and I know he isn't one of the newer killers. He really liked my old intern outfit..."

Michael silently seethed at that answer.

The killer didn't bother to even introduce himself before he tried to take Dwight's virginity. When they were in public... Even though Dwight was the shyest person that he's ever seen...

He clenched his jaw tight at the thought of his survivor being defiled out in the open. That his little one could've been ogled by anyone throughout that encounter was unacceptable. He should be treasured and carefully taken in a comfortable and private environment. Especially during his first time with another person.

Which wouldn't have happened if he hadn't stepped in and stopped him. The killer himself had admitted that he was ready to ride him like a horse, and Michael could honestly say that he saw red once he heard that.

Fuck that guy. The mystery killer was easily bumped up to number one on his shit list after pulling a stunt like that.

His hand was shaking slightly as he wrote, "I'M GOING TO KILL HIM AGAIN," on Dwight's open palm.

Dwight's breath hitched at his declaration, and he quietly said, "O-okay," with hunched shoulders. He knew that the killer wasn't lying to him. He hasn't lied to him at all yet, so why would he start now?

It was just more than a little overwhelming that Michael went from ruthlessly trying to kill him and his friends to ruthlessly trying to kill another killer for trying to hurt him in a different way. The only reason he could think of for the sudden change of heart was that he was completely vulnerable during their last trial.

He shuddered at the thought of his friends getting brutally murdered as he took a goddamn nap of all things...

Michael felt the smaller man's shudder wrack through his frame, and quickly picked up one of the objects he set aside earlier. He draped a black, fluffy blanket over Dwight's lap before he delved underneath it to rewrap his left arm around his hips. Then he pressed a warm mug against his mouth with his right hand.

His fingers slipped under Dwight's shirt to write, "DRINK," on his hip, and he waited for his delicate pink lips to part before he slowly tilted the cup. He was careful not to pour too much, and he tilted his cup backwards once his little one had a mouth full.

He waited until the warm liquid was swallowed, and then wrote, "GOOD?" He hoped that the man liked hot chocolate, but if he didn't, then Michael was perfectly fine with finishing it off himself.

Dwight squirmed a bit before he quietly said, "Y-yeah..."

Michael could tell that Dwight's cheeks took on a rosy hue, but he didn't tell him to stop. The killer took that as a sign to keep going and pressed his mug back against Dwight's mouth for a second time.

Another mouthful of hot chocolate passed between his parted lips and was swallowed without a problem. But as the third helping splashed against his tongue, Dwight couldn't hold back the wave of emotion that surged through him. He swallowed with a lot more difficulty and felt a lump in his throat as his eyes began to water. They spilled over his cheeks after his fourth serving, and even though he was trying to be quiet, he couldn't hold in his sniffle.

Dwight didn't hear the mug being set down, so he startled when Michael suddenly lifted him up and turned him around on his lap. He was facing the man now, and the grip under his arms prevented him from curling up and hiding his face. Tears were still lazily rolling down his cheeks, and his pained expression was as clear as day to the killer that held him.

Michael immediately brought him closer, and tucked his head underneath his chin before both of his arms wrapped securely around him. Dwight was leaning heavily against the killer now, and flinched when he moved them so that he was on his back, while the survivor was laying completely on top of him.

He once again snuck his fingers underneath the man's shirt. "DID I BURN YOU?"

The survivor let out a shaky breath before he slowly shook his head.

"ARE YOU STILL HURT FROM WHEN I SQUEEZED YOU?"

Dwight sniffled before he shook his head again. Michael could feel that his tears were still coming down since they were all pooling onto his bare skin.

"I CAN WAIT. YOU'RE TELLING ME WHAT'S WRONG."

Dwight didn't give a vocal answer, but he fully wrapped his arms around Michael until his fingers were lightly pressing into the killer's shoulder blades.

They laid there for a few minutes, with Dwight silently crying on him while Michael was rubbing soothing circles over the survivor's trembling back. Eventually, Dwight's breathing deepened, and his whole body untensed.

Michael let out a soft, amused huff at that and simply moved the blanket so that it covered them up. He figured that they both could use some more rest since they only got a few hours of sleep back in the bedroom. With that in mind, Michael closed his eyes and held his little one close as he slowly drifted off. He could get an answer out of him later.

 

---

 

Notes:

Many thanks to the talented Mintiroix for drawing this lovely fanart! :D It's so cute, I love it! 💜💙

Chapter 8: A Desire To Please

Notes:

Hey, hey! This took way longer than I planned, but I'm finally back with a new chapter. I hope you enjoy it 😉

Dwight woke up gradually, but it didn't take long for him to realize that he still wasn't back at camp. The soft, warm blanket that was pulled up to his shoulders and that his comfortable bed was slightly rising and falling were both pretty hard for him to ignore. He sleepily stretched his legs with a small yawn and was fully prepared to go back to sleep, but the person underneath him had other plans.

The man slowly sat them up despite his groan of protest, turned and scooted forward so he could sit comfortably in his lap, and then offered a tissue by gently pressing it against his cheek. He took it with a muttered, "Thank you," and used it right away since his nose was stuffy. The used kleenex was whisked away by the killer a moment later, and then one of his hands slowly threaded through his locks while his other one slid underneath his shirt and rubbed soothing circles over his back.

Dwight let out a small, happy hum as he enjoyed the pleasant touches, and would've passed out right then and there if the hand on his back didn't stop rubbing him in order to write, "HOW DID I HURT YOU LAST NIGHT?" After a moment of silence on his part, Michael grasped his hair and gently tilted his head back in order to look at him. "I TRIED TO BE CAREFUL. DIDN'T MEAN TO HURT YOU."

The survivor bit his lip as he attempted to organize his thoughts. Once he did, he opened his eyes and quietly said, "Besides squeezing me last night, y-you didn't hurt me. I just felt overwhelmed and guilty about things..."

After speaking, he realized just how close he was to the killer's face, and eagerly tried to take in his appearance. Although Michael was still blurry, his longer, dark blond hair was fairly noticeable up close, and his deep blue eyes were easily spotted with the better lighting.

Not wanting to be caught staring, he quickly looked off to the side with a small frown, and that prompted Michael to write, "ABOUT WHAT?"

Dwight blinked a bit as he tried to remember what they were talking about. It took him a little while, but once he did, he cleared his throat and said, "I'm not used to being cared for here in the realm. None of the survivors are. We're all trapped together in a small clearing with the bare minimum of what we need. A-and I know that there's not a lot that we actually need anymore, but we still need sleep, comfort, and something to fend off the cold..."

After a moment of indecision, Dwight let out a long sigh before he said, "I haven't actually seen your home or Jed's without my glasses, but I still know that both of your living conditions are way better than anything we've ever gotten. You guys have hot showers, warm, soft beds, and actual, fucking, walls to separate you from the others..." Dwight hugged Michael a little tighter as he said, "Most of us are stuck outside with just a thin sleeping bag, and the only things we've tasted in who knows how long were some swigs of David's alcohol, and a few cigarettes here and there from Bill. Neither of which I've really enjoyed, but it's all we have, so I accepted them if they were offered..."

Michael began to rub his back again, and he closed his eyes with another sigh. "You don't know how good it felt for me to taste something different, something nice, after what felt like years with nothing but those bitter things. So, yes. I felt- no, I still feel guilty over how you chose to take me here, went out of your way to make me comfortable, and you haven't tried to stab me even once while my friends are either being hunted down in a trial right now or trying to make the best of our shitty camp life."

The Shape kept up his soothing motions for a while before he wrote, "I GOT A SMALL EMPTY HOUSE AFTER FIRST TRIAL WITH THREE KILLS. IT SLOWLY GOT BETTER. USUALLY AFTER FEW MORE THREE OR FOUR KILL TRIALS."

Dwight looked down and couldn't stop a frown from forming. "You were gifted a house practically right away? Goddamn..." Dwight found himself bitter at the Entity's blatant favoritism. He wasn't all that surprised, though. The spider god basically treated his side like cattle that needed to be culled, while the killers were literally rewarded for murdering them, and rewarded generously by the sound of it. There was no question of who the golden children were in this scenario...

The survivor was broken out of his brooding once Michael let go of his hair to lightly pet him. Then the killer tapped Dwight's back a few times and let out a soft, thoughtful hum before he asked, "IS YOUR SYSTEM NOT LIKE OURS? THE BETTER YOU DO IN A TRIAL = BETTER REWARDS AFTER?"

His frown deepened before he muttered, "We do get rewards, but they're pretty rare. Most of us only have a few outfits, but some of us also have small comfort items."

"LIKE?"

Dwight's eyes narrowed in thought. "Let's see... Jake got a thicker sleeping bag and a wooden chest that he made before the fog. He keeps all of his extra clothes in it.... Claudette got her personal journal and pen back, and now it has unlimited pages. She also has a pillow... Oh, and Meg got her favorite slippers back, which never seem to get dirty. She has a pillow too."

He bit his lip as he thought harder. "Then there's Feng, who only has one gift, but it's pretty damn good. It took a long time, but she managed to get her phone back. She can't make any calls or text anyone back home, but she can still look at her old pictures and play any games that she already downloaded- well, the ones that don't need internet, and it's always charged."

A second passed before Dwight said, "Oh, and Nancy and Steve just earned a pair of really old walkie-talkies. I think she said they were her little brother's. We were supposed to test them out soon, but I was taken to your camp before we could..."

After Dwight trailed off with another frown, Michael slid his hand down from the survivor's hair to cradle his face. "AND WHAT ABOUT YOU?" He caressed Dwight's cheek with his thumb and delighted in making him turn a lovely shade of red. He kept up the soft motion and watched on as his little companion closed his eyes from shyness and his face flushed even further.

While Dwight was still flustered, he swallowed and hesitantly said, "I-I don't have anything from back home that I really want. And I don't even like m-most of my gifted outfits since all they do is remind me of my old, shitty jobs."

He let out a deep breath to calm himself, and then muttered, "I swear it took over twenty trials where at least three of us- including me, survived just to get my pillow, maybe thirty more for my thicker sleeping bag, and who the hell knows how many more for my small tent." Dwight bit his lip as guilt bubbled up within him. "And I know that I earned all of them, but I still feel bad for wanting more comfort when the others have so much less. But seeing how you and Jed live has only made me crave things even more..." He let out a small sigh and frowned at how pitiful he sounded.

"SO SWEET. IT'S OKAY TO WANT MORE," Michael wrote before his thumb moved down Dwight's cheek and brushed over his lower lip.

The survivor startled and opened his eyes at the killer's touch, only to see Michael's blurry face inch impossibly closer. He let out a faint sound when Michael wrapped an arm around his waist and gently rubbed their cheeks together, and he felt his face burn hot when Michael moved down to softly nose at his neck.

The killer was content to keep nuzzling into him for far longer than last time, and despite his best wishes, Dwight began to respond to Michael's touch. He felt like his whole body was getting warmer the longer the man showered him with affection, and he wanted to hide his face after he let out a small whimper.

Michael pressed a soft kiss to his neck at the sound before he went back to nuzzling him, but that only made his face burn even more, and he started to squirm lightly in his hold. The killer was only spurred on by his survivor's shy reactions, and it didn't take long before he moved his hand up to Dwight's hair and ghosted his nails over his scalp.

"Michael, please-" He let out a quiet moan when he tried to tell him to stop- that it was too much, and he shivered at feeling the killer's fingers move from his waist and slip underneath his shirt. From there he began to gently trail his nails over the expanse of Dwight's back. Michael softly ran them up and down his sensitive skin as he continued to nuzzle his neck, and Dwight felt like putty in his hands as the pleasure clouded his mind.

Only a few minutes had passed, but it felt like an eternity before Dwight had a clear thought again. He let out a shaky breath once Michael pressed his face into the crook of his neck with a hum and went back to lightly petting his hair and rubbing his back. Then the survivor found himself quietly panting as he leaned further against the man that held him.

After a short time of rest, Dwight swallowed nervously when Michael started rubbing small circles into his hip while he peppered the bottom of his neck with featherlight kisses. He thought that the killer would stop right away, like last time, but when he started adding more pressure as he slowly kissed his way up towards his mouth, Dwight panicked and tried to lean away. The killer's hand was still spread out over the back of his head though, which meant that he wasn't going anywhere anytime soon.

With escape not an option, he quickly covered his burning face with his hands to stop the man's quickening approach. Then he breathed out a timid, "P-please d-don't-" and flinched when Michael's hand settled on top of his head and started playing with his hair.

The killer gently ran his fingers through Dwight's hair for a while before he wrote, "I'M NOT GOING TO HURT YOU," with his other hand. Then he started to rub soft circles over Dwight's back and continued to toy with his hair while he waited for him to uncover himself. Michael kept up both ministrations even as his nervous survivor gradually peeked out through his fingers, hesitated for a long moment, and then finally revealed his lovely, scared face.

"THERE'S MY LITTLE ONE." He let out an amused huff when Dwight's cheeks immediately turned red again at the endearment, and he continued to gently comfort him until he wrote, "IT'S TIME FOR YOUR REWARD."

Dwight swallowed nervously before he said, "Y-you really don't have t-to..."

The killer lightly thumbed over Dwight's lower lip again as he wrote, "YES I DO. YOU DESERVE MORE."

Dwight's nerves skyrocketed when the Shape kissed his forehead, slowly moved down to kiss both of his cheeks, and then claimed Dwight's lips with his own. At first, his eyes went wide in shock at the contact, but they quickly closed again, and his face flushed a lot darker.

Michael moved his lips gently against the survivor's, like he was scared of spooking him. He made sure to keep giving Dwight soothing rubs on his back, while his other hand went back to caressing his cheek as he gave him soft, sweet kisses.

The survivor didn't know how long they spent like that- with him sitting in the man's lap and trembling while he received his latest reward. He tried to push the killer away at first, and when that inevitably failed, he kept his shaking hands pressed against Michael's chest to try and keep some space between them.

After a while, the killer released a low moan and tilted his head so he could kiss Dwight deeper. He immediately let out a quiet whine and tried to back his head away, but Michael slid his hand to the back of Dwight's head to stop him. Then he used his other hand to easily pull Dwight's arms down, and he held him a lot closer as he quickly gave him kiss after hungry kiss.

Dwight trembled even harder as Michael became more aggressive, but he gave a positive reaction once Michael stopped doing that and sensually licked his lower lip. His sweet one gave him a muffled moan and shivered at the sensation, and the killer hummed in thought before he gripped him a bit tighter. Then he carefully laid Dwight down on his back, and Dwight tensed up and grasped the blanket beneath him with trembling hands when the killer hovered over him and pressed lightly against his chest. He was careful enough to hold him down without restricting his breathing, but Dwight still let out a muffled whimper as he was trapped between Michael and a soft place.

Michael had repositioned the both of them while keeping his lips pressed against Dwight's the whole time, and he pushed his tongue past Dwight's soft, sensuous lips once the man was completely underneath him. The killer slowly explored Dwight's mouth before he started twirling his tongue around the survivor's. It didn't take long before his nervous leader moaned and hesitantly slid his tongue against Michael's one time, which made him let out a low groan and run his hand through Dwight's hair. Then he coaxed Dwight's tongue into his mouth and started to suck on it lightly with a satisfied rumble. The new sensation made Dwight start to shudder underneath him and release muffled moans, which greatly encouraged the killer to keep going.

Seeing that Dwight started to relax a bit, Michael brought his hand down to palm Dwight's dick through his thin shorts. The initial touch let him know that his survivor was already starting to get hard, so he hummed in delight before he sucked on his tongue a little harder and began to slowly but firmly rub his cock through his clothing. His sweet little survivor whimpered and started to lightly buck into his touch before long, and the killer rewarded his good behavior by invading his shorts with his hand.

Michael grasped onto Dwight's hardening cock with a pleased hum and guided it out of his clothing. He gave it a gentle squeeze before he slowly spread the man's precum down it, and then he went back to swirling his tongue around Dwight's as he eagerly began to stroke him to full hardness. His little one cried out from the sudden uptick in pleasure and started breathing a lot heavier as he moaned softly into his mouth.

Michael was relieved that his nervous lover was enjoying his touch, because he honestly couldn't hold back his urges anymore. He thought that holding the smaller man close and tending to him would've been enough to quell his very new, very strong desire to please him. And it actually was enough for a while, but once Dwight started talking about his friends, and about Jake and Jed, he felt an overwhelming urge to pleasure him until he was the only person his shy survivor could think about. That his sweet one was talking about the others for such a long time only made that urge a lot stronger.

The Shape found himself jealous that his little survivor seemed so fond of the people in his camp. Fond enough to remember which of his friends were gifted things, what they were, and that The Saboteur even built the wooden chest that he was given... It made the killer think that his nervous leader probably liked a lot of them more than him- which pushed Michael to do whatever he could to please him further, and which led them to right now.

Michael's hand was steadily stroking Dwight's cock like a man on a mission, and he easily spread more of the man's precum over his shaft as he pumped him. Dwight was constantly bucking by that point, and Michael eagerly met his thrusts every time. When the sound of Michael's wet hand slapping against Dwight's balls started getting louder, Michael felt Dwight's whole body briefly shiver before he started bucking into his hand a little harder. He filed that information away for later, released the survivor's mouth from his own, and quickly pushed himself up onto his knees to see Dwight's face. Then he put his free hand around his sweet one's neck and lightly squeezed it as he began to stroke Dwight's cock like his life depended on it.

Dwight shuddered and loudly cried out, "Yes! Yes! Michael!" Then his mouth opened slightly, and he panted out high, breathy moans as he frantically thrusted up into the killer's hand.

Michael felt euphoric at hearing his name come out of those pretty, swollen lips and began to twist his hand over the head of Dwight's cock during every downstroke. The motion caused Dwight to shiver and moan even louder, and it wasn't long before Dwight tensed up and came all over his shirt with a high-pitched cry.

Then his little survivor went boneless and tiredly panted as he continued to stroke his spent cock at a much slower pace. After a while of slow pumping, Dwight whimpered and weakly writhed from the endless stimulation, and Michael had to hold down his hip with one hand so he could keep his slow pace steady.

Once Dwight was secured, he eagerly took in the sight of his sweet one's body and felt a new wave of lust pass over him. Dwight's hips were shaking as he failed to writhe and buck, his eyes were closed tight, and his soft, swollen lips were parted to let out the most lovely sounds as his slick cock began to fully harden again.

"H-hah... Michael..." Dwight breathlessly panted out before the killer hummed in delight and stroked him a little faster. He gasped and tried to buck into Michael's hand at the sensation, but he wasn't allowed to as the killer continued to hold his hip in place while he diligently pumped his cock.

Dwight could only lay back and moan as Michael gradually upped his pace, and he heavily trembled and panted as his leaking cock continued to lube up Michael's hand. The killer only seemed to feed off of all of his sounds, and happily went right back to pumping him at an extremely fast pace.

"Oh my god... Yes! Yes!" Dwight let out a high pitched moan and writhed as much as he could as Michael eagerly tried to make him come again.

The killer went back to twisting his hand over Dwight's cock on every downstroke, and that threw him over the edge.  "A-ah... H-hah...." He couldn't speak as his body desperately tried to buck up into the killer's touch. Loud whimpers and moans fell out of his open mouth as he was securely held in place, and Michael continued to quickly pump and twist over his slick cock with a single-minded focus. It didn't take long for Dwight to succumb to the overwhelming pleasure. He felt his orgasm build up fast and his balls tightened right before he came with a loud cry.

Despite that being his second orgasm, Michael didn't stop pumping him or even slow down, and Dwight felt tears quickly build up as he was truly overwhelmed by pleasure. Dwight's mouth was open in a small o as Michael diligently pumped his sensitive cock. His eyes were shut tight and tears slowly slid down his cheeks as he was forced to endure the endless pleasure. Despite his usual experience, it felt like it took no time at all had passed before his dick was hard again and he was weakly trying to buck into Michael's hand.

Michael obsessively worked Dwight's needy cock over until his toes curled, and the survivor practically screamed as he came for the third time. Then he stopped his never-ending handjob and leaned down to cage Dwight in and give him one last deep, sensual kiss. His sweet one whimpered softly into his mouth when he licked his lower lip and eagerly plunged his tongue back inside, and he rumbled out a deep groan and passionately twirled their tongues together once Dwight's tongue met his and started sliding against him.

Michael wasn't planning on doing anything further, but seeing his sweet one's enthusiasm whittled away at his restraint, and after hearing a muffled moan, he couldn't stop himself. Michael quickly pulled his sweatpants and boxers down to his knees to release his aching cock. He's been hard without any stimulation for so long that wrapping his hand around himself made him whimper. When he heard an answering moan right after, he quickly coaxed his survivor's tongue into his mouth and gently sucked on it as he started to stroke himself.

Dwight shivered underneath Michael at the sensation and he quietly moaned at hearing the unmistakable sound of a slick cock starting to be pumped. When Michael reacted to his noise and started jerking himself off a bit faster, Dwight moaned a little louder and carefully brought his arms up to wrap around him. He managed to slide his hands up to the man's shoulder blades without any trouble, and held on tight with a whimper when Michael let go of his tongue, quickly latched onto his neck, and then sucked.

The stealth killer really ramped up his pumping once he got his mouth on his neck, and Dwight dug his nails into Michael's back with a loud groan in response. He knew that if he wasn't so exhausted that his own dick would've been rock hard by now, but he didn't want Michael to think that he wanted to go even further, so it was definitely for the best that he wasn't.

Despite that fleeting thought, Dwight whined when his spent cock began to harden just enough for it to press insistently against Michael's stomach. It was just shy of painful for it to be hard again so soon, and Dwight would be more than okay if Michael would ignore his dick and let him take a cold shower after he got himself off.

Michael definitely noticed his erection. In fact, he began to suck and lick at his neck in a frenzy after that, and Dwight could only moan and hold on for the ride. From the sound of things, the killer was frantically pumping his slick cock, so he must have been getting close.

Dwight hoped that running his nails over Michael's back would help speed him along, but he wasn't prepared for the killer to give him a full body shiver before he latched onto an unblemished part of his neck and harshly sucked on it. He gasped and dug his nails deeper into the man's shoulder blades as the tingling pain mixed with a burst of pleasure, which built and built until he let out a sharp moan and came on the spot. The survivor released a faint sound when Michael tensed up right after and shot his load onto him with a muffled cry.

Black spots filled his already shitty vision as he laid limp on the man's couch, completely spent while the killer took to kissing and gently lapping at the new marks on his neck in between his harsh breaths. Then there was nothing but heavy breathing between them for a while, as the killer stayed put over his lax body while they both recovered.

Michael caught his breath soon enough and gave Dwight a sweet peck on his parted lips before he reluctantly pulled away. Then he carefully lifted his exhausted lover up into a princess carry, and he took him upstairs. After all that had just occurred, they both were in dire need of a long, hot shower.

Notes:

Refractory period? Never heard of her. 🤭

All joking aside, this chapter took a hell of a long time to edit and post, but you guys gave me the motivation to finish it. Thank you so much! 💜💙