Chapter Text
simon pulled his hoodie further around himself as the engine rumbled, driving through unfamiliar backroads further outside of the city. it was frigid outside, his fingers numb. the passenger side window no longer could roll up entirely, stuck halfway open, throwing cold air into his face.
his father hadn't said a single word to him since he had shaken him awake. it was a recurring trend, especially after he had come out to surprisingly better acceptance than he had ever hoped for. it came at the cost of his father wanting to teach him how to be a man in his cruel ways, accepting nothing less.
he knew this was going to be another lesson. especially when the man had simply looked at his pathetic, beaten form when he had gotten home and had not said a word as simon's mother rushed to tend to him. he had lost a fight, plain and simple. his nose hadn't been broken, but bruised and bloodied. a shiner on his cheekbone and more than enough yellowing bruises underneath his clothes to make just standing upright a chore.
the silence was what was messing with his head. his father was a loud, brash man. he spoke every thought, acting like every man and god had to hear his words. especially the drunker he got.
simon didn't try to break it. he kept his lips shut, knowing he wasn't to speak unless spoken to, in trouble without his father having to say a word. he could easily convince himself that this was how he dies, getting driven to a far off place. even the raves held in abandoned warehouses and lots didn't usually go out this far into the hillside. planes of grass framed either side of the road, farms stretching further than he could see in the dark. no animals left out to graze, with only the dim headlights to light up the road.
his entire body is tense in a way that makes every bruise and scratch on him ache horribly by the time they pull up to a farm house. it's quiet, only two downstairs windows lit up in the front despite this time of the night. a single truck is parked there already.
"out," his father barks at him. he jumps, despite his best effort not to. ignores the hard stare he gets for it, knowing it was another strike against him. his father hated weakness. any display of it was shameful, something to be beaten out.
simon is quick to comply, unbuckling his seatbelt and sliding out of the car. he hears the door rattle as he slams it shut behind himself, the rusted frame creaking from the movement. his father gets out as well, and starts toward the house. wordlessly, he follows, keeping his head ducked down. the hoodie he's wearing is awkwardly stretched on his gangly form as he was starting to outgrow it. against the freezing night air, it does nothing to protect him.
he watches him pull open the rusting screendoor and bang on the door the moment they reach it. he stays a few feet back, on the stairs of the porch. not with the intention of bolting, but simply to make him feel not so trapped. he knows he wouldn't get very far if he ran, his father faster than one would expect from a drunk druggie.
after a moment, there's heavy footsteps on the otherside. the sound of the bolt and the handle unlocking can be heard before the door opens with a whine of the hinges. it's an older man, about his father's age if he hadn't been withered by constant drug use and alcohol, with lighter hair and slightly taller than him.
"thomas," the man greets with a nod. glances briefly at simon before back to his father who was already pulling a cigarette out. "got the back ready."
simon can feel the pull of anxiety in his chest. he has no idea what could possibly be planned. his mind tries to run through every horrific scenario he can, but he ends up short of logical ideas.
"right," his father grunts. he gives a hard stare at simon, and steps inside. simon ducks his head and follows him in, uttering a quiet word of gratitude to the man for holding the door open.
the inside is about as one would expect for a farmhouse with a lone man living in it. rugged but comfortable. almost scalding to his freezing skin. he shivers, hands flexing at his sides to get the blood running in his pale fingers. tries not to bask too long in the warmth, not expecting to be very comfortable for long.
he follows the two older men through the house, passing a few rooms and down a hallway to what is revealed to be the garage door once it's opened. he can hear his heart pounding now, having to fight himself through every step to ignore the impulse to stop or turn around. he knew his father was capable of anything, often surprising him with worse actions. letting that prostitute die, forcing simon to take anything given to him, fucking an unconscious, drunk girl. anything.
the door shuts heavily behind him, the single light being a washed out, white strip hanging from the ceiling. he's surprised as a dog stands from the corner from where it had been laying on a worn looking dog bed. it yawns, taking its time to stretch before coming to sniff his father and him with a wagging tail.
timidly, he pets it. running his hands through its soft fur. the only dogs he comes across on his own are the ragged strays that are distrustful of humans, lured by fresh cuts of meat from his work. this one is healthy looking, some farm dog mix and graying around the muzzle.
"ye wanna know why ye're here, simon?" his father asks, leering at him as he pets the dog as it sits in front of him, seeming content to stay there.
"because i lost that fight?" he asks, voice quiet and hoarse from disuse. the shiner on his cheek and his nose hurts when he does.
"ye were made a feckin' bitch." his father's voice is nearly a snarl. often, such as when it comes to fighting, the man can take it personal if simon were to lose. "and comin' home with yer tail between yer legs and gettin' pampered by that whore."
he flinches. swallows the burst of rage that comes up when his father speaks about his mum like that.
his father is suddenly approaching, causing the dog to have to rush to get out of the way, only looking slightly disgruntled than as scared as simon felt. the other man had moved to stand somewhere further back, silently watching. simon, on instinct, scrambles back until he's hitting the door. a bony hand is coming up, a surprisingly strong grip curling over his nape like a scruff.
"ye came to me, askin' to be a man. how am i supposed to believe that when ye're acting like a bitch that's only good for gettin' knocked around and fucked? hm, simon?"
he cringes, avoiding his father's intense eyes. he can feel his own traitorously watering, stinging as his vision blurs. his father shakes him by the hold he has on the back of his neck, knocking those tears lose as he waits on an answer.
"i- i'm sorry, i'll try harder," he tries, his voice only raising just barely above a whisper. "i'll fight 'im again and win, i swear."
the older man barks out a laugh, mocking and cruel as he steps aside to shove simon forward and out of the corner he had backed himself into against the door. he finds himself stumbling forward, barely managing to catch himself before he falls. having the stranger there and the dog watching makes his face flush in shame.
"no, ye have to learn a lesson. and if ye're gonna act like a bitch, ye get treated like one."
simon stares, confused. his eyes are still watering, despite his best efforts. the dog had come to him again, sniffing at his hands hanging at his sides and his thighs. "what?" he asks, his heart racing too wildly and nerves too frayed for him to wait for his father to explain.
"drop your pants," it's the man who speaks up, words said so casually. simon's head swivels around, eyes wide. his hands are starting to shake even as he curls them into fists in an attempt to stop them.
the longer the silence stretches, the more he feels himself panic. disgust curls in his gut, and terror over what would happen if he resists pinning him to the spot like a bug under a microscope. more tears are pushed forward, falling in fat drops quickly.
"dad-" he croaks out, turning back to him.
his father stays near the door, his arms crossed over his chest, cigarette hanging from his lips. reluctantly, he turns his gaze down to the dog, who sits at his feet, staring at him with a look of innocence. ears pinned back and forehead scrunched as if concerned.
trembling hands lift, working at the drawstring of his sweatpants he had thrown on before following his father out. his mother had been passed out on the sofa, a pill bottle spilled on the coffee table in front of her like how she ended most nights. tommy had watched him go from the top bunk, always jealous of his outings with their father, oblivious to what simon had to endure. he used to be frustrated with him, knowing he couldn't describe what he saw. now he was glad his brother had some inkling of childish hope that there was something to want.
he pushes them down to his thighs, feeling the way his leg hairs stand up as his skin breaks out in goosebumps, exposed to the colder air. only some of the heat had crept out from the house, but it wasn't nearly as cold as it was outside.
the dog stands, tail starting to wag again as it watches him with interest. he's still silently crying, face scrunched as if physically trying to hold the tears back, as his pants drop to his ankles.
a wet nose makes contact with the skin of his thighs, and he steps back without thinking. he's followed, the dog sniffing him intensely until it snuffles up between his thighs suddenly, pressing into the cotton of his briefs. he jolts, shoving its snout away as gently as he could. it seems to take this as something playful, as it only pulls its muzzle over his hand to back to his boxers.
when he goes to push it away again, he's interrupted by a sharp, "don't." from the stranger. his hand flinches back, giving the dog room to nose at him. the cotton is thin, and he feels it growing humid with the exhales of the dog. he's shaking with how tense he is, fighting himself from moving back again.
"take those off and get on the ground."
"please, i- i'm sorry. it won't happen again, i swear," he tries, once more. begging. his words are interrupted with a quiet sob.
"listen to him or i swear to feckin' god ye'll wish ye did," his father growls.
simon squeezes his eyes shut, pushing out more tears consequently as his shaking hands lift again. his thumbs hook under the elastic of his briefs, and slowly, he slides them down his thighs. the dog is eager to get at what was beneath them before he even has them down, and he gasps as he feels it brush against his clit. it had been sensitive and sore since he had started using testosterone gel a few months ago, an effect he had read about. and it's already unbearable as he feels that wet nose press against it, a hot tongue startling him immediately after.
it causes sparks of hot pleasure amidst the sensitivity and disgust that keeps him from enjoying it. his hips try to flinch back, feeling it lap over and between his lips, rasping against the pubes there.
he's sobbing for real now, and he nearly forgets to follow the commands entirely until he's remembering what else he was told. he has to step back to give himself room to lower to his knees, getting at what the man had been insinuating.
the concrete of the garage is hard and cold against his knees and shins. he falls forward onto his hands, and keeps his head hanging forward. he hears as the dog rounds him, nails tapping against the ground. he feels it lick over his ass cheeks and against the backs of his thighs before going right for his lips again.
he whimpers in discomfort as he feels the drag firmly against his entrance. simon can't help but think about how he's going to lose his virginity to a dog, all because he had gotten his ass kicked for a fight he didn't even instigate, nor did he get in trouble with his school like last time. mentally, he begs it to stop. to lose interest. to get its damn tongue out of his cunt and go lay back in that dog bed in the corner. he knows neither the stranger or his father will stop this.
he feels it pull back then. but it's not long enough for him to have any hope his prayers will be answered. because then he feels its weight coming down over his ass and lower back, paws wrapping around his waist as it rears up on its hindlegs to mount him. he sobs, a new wave of tears pushing to his eyes.
its hips drag against his in slow jerks until something slippery and hot is poking at him. he tries to lean forward and away, but it only follows. he feels as a wet trail is left against him until its sliding between his lips. "no-" he yelps out, almost falling flat on his face as he leans forward far enough that he's out of reach.
a hand is curling harshly into his hair, then. pushed down, it's the cheek with the shiner that grinds painfully into the concrete, the entire side of his face lighting up with pain. with a whimper, he corrects his hips, pushing up and back in hopes he'd be let go, but the hand doesn't leave his hair for it.
the dog is quick to try again. paws tightening around his waist, it slides in with one thrust. his mouth opens in a silent scream, the first push inside nothing more than a surprising wet slide of the tapered tip slipping in. but its hips immediately pick up a frenzied, brutal pace, its cock pushing further in with each thrust.
he can feel as it pushes his tight walls open, fitting itself into him where he had never dared more than a finger in curiosity. it hurts, feeling like he was being ripped from the thickening intrusion forcings it way in. his thighs are tensed, only making the stretch worse as they shake, that animal need in the back of his mind desperate to get away.
it's overwhelming, happening all so fast that he can't keep up. he hears the wet sucking noises as its hips thump against him, the dog leaking into him horribly and causing it to dribble out around it. the hand leaves his hair, but all he does is simply adjust so the uninjured side of his face is against the cold, rough floor.
he can feel the scratch of its nails on his hips and waist, where it kept a firm hold on him. hot lines that turn into a stinging pain that he tries his best to focus on, along with the concrete against his knees and face. pained grunts are forced out each time it fucks in, deeper than when it started as it seemed to grow inside of him.
it's easy to ignore the thicker part that just barely slips into him, more focused on how far inside of him it felt. but his train of thought is entirely derailed as the next pound of its hips into his own forces it that much deeper, and something rapidly expands inside of him.
this time it does wring a scream out of him, entire body trying to jolt forward yet even without the hand on him, he's stuck. he feels the pain deep, throbbing hot and he wouldn't be surprised if he was bleeding. it successfully locks the dog inside of him, something he had seen with the strays that wandered along the route between his school and work.
it still tries to hump him, fucking deeper but unable to pull out any further. each yank sends another cold spark of pain through him, and his sobbing starts anew, tears dried up this time around. it throbs in him, hot sprays of semen quickly being pumped into him. he swears he can feel the stretch in his lungs, achingly full as though it was trying to carve a shape solely for itself in his unused walls.
simon whines as it slowly dismounts, clambering off of him but only able to go so far with the way they were stuck together. the movement pulls at him, and his body is firmly stuck between wanting to clamp down to avoid the painful tugging or force it out entirely. he still doesn't try to lift his head, not wanting to see the way his father and that stranger are staring at him. watching him. shame makes his blood hot, wanting nothing more than to go home and into the arms of his mother. he knows he can never tell her about this. it'd break her heart.
he's tired. it had taken him forever to fall asleep earlier, too uncomfortable with all of the aches and pains, even after his mother had given him something to take the edge off. he was supposed to go to school in the morning, but that was becoming further out of reach. he'd probably just have to drop tommy off and head back home.
all he can hear is the heavy panting of the dog and his own pounding heart. he could almost convince himself he was alone, that the two men had stepped back into the house. not watching as he's filled pulse after pulse with the watery cum that was already attempting to leak out from where his entrance was pulled taut.
suddenly it was starting to move, shifting slightly, impatient. it tries to step forward, and he grunts, feeling himself get dragged a little with it as the knot stayed firmly lodged in his tight cunt. it's clear it wasn't going to come out the easy way -- if there was one, but at the same time he didn't know if he could take the effort of pulling it out of him.
and simon is aware he has hardly any say in the matter, as the dog is pulling harder. for a split second, he can't help but wonder if it hurts for it too. it's gone as quick as it went, the slow shifting inside of him making it hard for any thoughts but panic and hurt to stick. he can feel it moving in small increments, and his entrance can feel the thickest part of it catching against it. straining and quivering as the muscles struggled.
with a yelp, the knot slips out with a wet pop. the rest of its cock follows with a gush of spend and slimy precum that splatters on the concrete below him. he can feel himself trying to clench down, but he's kept firmly open, a hollow space made.
simon has to give himself a moment to rest. breathing hard, he knows he'll feel the ache of the stretch the moment he moves. he can hear the low murmur of the stranger and his father talking, but can't pick up on any of the words. not that he cares. if it concerns him, he'd know. he just hopes that this was it, that he'd get to go home and lay down. maybe grab one of his father's beers or a loose pill his mum had spilled.
he almost wants to reach between his thighs to feel the gape, to feel how far he was kept open. but he doesn't, thoughts interrupted by the swipe of that hot tongue returning. it licks over his folds and lips, seemingly cleaning him up. when it dips into the gape, the gentle licks are soothing to his sore muscles in a way that has him relaxing into it despite how gross it made him feel to get any modicum of enjoyment out of any of this. the repetitive lap, flicking against his fluttering walls, occasionally catching the sensitive, swollen bud that makes him gasp each time.
simon is given a few moments of this, the languid wet drag of the dog's tongue, before he hears his father clear his throat. the disappointment he finds himself feeling startles him, and he pushes himself to sit up, effectively shaking the dog off from where it had been focused between his legs.
"get up," his father is saying. pulling out another stick of tobacco. "that whore'll get mad if i don't get ye back 'fore she wakes up."
simon doesn't have to be told twice. it takes effort to get his legs under him, feeling the sharp pulse of pain in his core as he puts weight on his still shaking thighs. he drags his briefs and sweatpants up, tying the drawstring in mechanical movements.
the dog lingers, tail wagging as it sniffs at him before finally losing interest in favor of the water bowl near the dog bed. the stranger leads the way out of the garage, and once again he's plunged into the warmth of the house. far warmer than his own ever was kept.
he walks with a limp, unable to correct it without that sharp pain shooting through him. it'll feel worse when he wakes up in a few hours. he'll have to figure it out himself, or blame the pain on the bruises from the fight. his gaze stays on the ground, simply following the two to the front door.
they stop there, the bitter cold right on the other side of the wood. he pulls his hoodie tighter on his frame. wishes it fit better, not showing his bony wrists nor riding up too high on his waist. wishes the material was thicker, or padded. it'd be given to tommy soon, but his brother was already catching up in height despite being 3 years younger.
"well?" his father asks, and he glances up to see him staring back. "don't ye have any feckin' manners, simon?"
he flounders. unsure of what was being asked. he was still sniffling, nose snotty from crying and face still drying with tears and sweat. he looks to the stranger, and forces himself to find his voice no matter how much he wanted the floor to swallow him whole.
"thank you," he rasps. doesn't flinch when a firm hand claps his shoulder before being gone once more.
"win that fight, kid," the man says, too warmly for what had just happened. he nods anyway, and follows his father out to their beaten up little truck.
the ride home is silent, and simon has to walk tommy to school by the time they make it back. his brother stares at him the entire time, with the same soft, blue eyes their mother had. he doesn't count on him staying the entire day, knowing he was starting to skip classes and hang out with older kids. but he sees him off at the gate, and makes the walk back home.
his mum is already at work and his father is already passed out in his bedroom rather than the sofa for once. he snags a pill left on the coffee table, recognizing the engraved numbers and color for an oxy.
simon takes it, and dreams of nothing.