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After decades of working in his… field, if Hell on Earth could be called a career, Leon had learned to take his pleasures where he could find them. It was unfortunate that the tender petting of the sick fuck playing with his hair was one such thing.
Leon did not flutter his eyelids. He supposed the display was meant to rattle him, but then again, he couldn't claim to know the intentions of a madman. He put on his own display: bored and unimpressed.
“Are the answers to your disease here?” Gideon asked in that oddly soft tone of his, tugging Leon's collar aside.
He did not shiver at the large fingers that stroked the tender curve of his neck and shoulder, but the bare skin lit up with tingling nerves.
“Yes,” Gideon breathed, leaning so close that his cheek could nearly rest against Leon’s hair.
Leon caught a whiff of warm, damp, rotten breath and quipped: “You know, I do have a question. When was the last time you brushed your teeth?”
Gideon straightened up and withdrew his hand, circling around to regard Leon with a tilted head, analyzing. Leon met him head-on with a stubbornly hateful glare. Gideon had another thing coming if he thought he could manipulate him with half-baked tactics like pretending they could have a “civilized” discussion, threatening him with a tiny scalpel, or trying to cow him with creepy touching. Leon had been through it all. He would not give him any satisfaction.
Gideon shook the scalpel at him. “You…” He circled back to Leon's side, “are an ignorant fool.”
The scalpel bit into the side of Leon's neck. He grunted as vulnerable skin slitted open and dripped. He braced himself for more, but Gideon stepped away and crossed the room. An opportunity.
“Do you believe in human evolution?”
Leon took his tool from his belt and began to saw at the ropes tying his wrists together behind his back.
Gideon came to his front, leaning over condescendingly. “I have devoted my entire life to studying it, while you have devoted your life to failure.”
The rope gave way and Leon kicked out, boots slamming into Gideon's midsection.
As the man staggered back from the blow, Leon leapt out of the chair.
Gideon wasn't reeling for long. Huge hands engulfed Leon's elbow and shoulder as he made to shove Gideon back. With his arms caught, Leon kicked again and hit Gideon's knee.
Gideon stumbled but kept Leon in his grasp, wrenching him backward into his arms and hooking a forearm around his throat.
Not again.
Leon kicked, struggled, clawed, and attempted to stomp on Gideon's foot. He might as well have been fighting a brick wall. The pressure around his throat kept tightening. Leon grunted feebly. Dark spots hovered around his vision.
Can't breathe.
Just before the dark could completely tunnel in, Gideon's chokehold loosened enough to let Leon suck in a gasp of air. His limbs were becoming leaden, refusing to obey him.
Again, his air was cut off. Again, Gideon let him gasp in a breath, too weak to struggle or even think.
Firm pressure stroking down Leon's chest and belly. He wasn't fully aware of his body’s involuntary response until a hand engulfed the front of his pants and squeezed.
“Shh, shh,” Gideon whispered, barely audible above the roaring of blood in Leon's ears.
It was an out of body experience, watching Gideon's fingers undo his belt and his pants, pushing them down with his underwear to mid-thigh.
Gideon petted down his trail of hair and teased a finger along his underside, base to tip. Leon could do nothing but take the numbing pleasure and occasionally gasp in a breath before Gideon denied him the next. His head was filled with cottony fuzz and he couldn't feel his hands.
Shockingly gentle, Gideon's perverted fingers dipped lower, finding Leon's perineum and pressing.
Someone moaned. Was it himself? Leon couldn't tell. Everything felt like a movie on screen.
Gideon's thumb and forefinger circled around his base and stroked tightly up from the root, wringing a pathetic dribble out of his slit that slicked the way for the next stroke.
“Failures,” Gideon rasped, “are only good for a few things.”
Leon heard the words, but couldn't make sense of them in his oxygen-deprived brain. He might as well have been a doll being played with.
The rest were dream-like snippets he would not remember later.