Purify Me

Author’s Note: This is in response to Rosemary’s challenge, which I shall reproduce here:

[The plot is Will during his first official solo mission, gets attack by some super villain (make one up or one from the movie, your choice), during the time Will is kidnap tortured and raped (graphic or non, your choice). The kidnappers let him go/or he escapes, which ever he goes home and tries to hide what happened. But slowly he’s withdrawing from the world all his friends and his parents are worried about him. Anyway, finally Warren gets the story out of him, blah, blah …you can figure out the rest. (^. ^)

Rules:

(1) Has to slash, no hetero please
(2) Will has to be bottom/uke
(3) Will’s parents can’t be totally clueless idiots]

This story is tangentially related to the story War and Peace In Mind that I’m writing on FanFiction.net, though it is unrelated to Heat, which I’m writing on here. Things you need to know that I don’t otherwise explain in the story are basically when Warren powers up when he’s mad, he creates regular fire and burns stuff. When he powers up when he’s trying to help, he can heal people. Other than that everything else is explained therein. I tapped a bit of my dark side for this, you’re been warned.

I would adore any reviews that let me know what you think about, what you liked, didn't like, or what could make it better.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Ah, awake now Guardian? It’s such a pity you conceal your identity in the reverse. If you had been wearing a mask, I could have finally figured out who you really are. Not that it bothers me much; I just wanted to call you by your name while we play our little games. No matter, I’m sure I’ll recover from that disappointment. I won’t pry in that part of your head, never fear. I have much more interesting places in your mind to investigate.”

Will slowly tried to raise his aching head, cautiously opening his eyes. A few feet below him was a concrete floor, dimly lit from above. He tried to move, and found his hands caught up short. Fear surged through his body as he looked wildly around. His wrists and ankles were chained to some kind of metal frame held a few feet horizontally off the floor, with one metal bar running under his hips, and one under his chest. Twisting to get a closer look at his bonds, Will realized they were glowing a bright, warm white.

Power neutralizer shackles, he realized, the blood draining from his face. He tried pulling anyway, and felt the metal from the cuffs digging into his skin. He couldn’t break them, and terror began to flood through his system. Other sensations began to prick through his fear; the fact that it was cold, and there was a faint chill breeze on his naked skin. Naked skin? he thought wildly, quickly taking stock. Yes, his red, white, and blue super-suit was thrown in one dimly-lit corner, while he was chained to this metal frame, naked as a babe.

“You know struggling is useless. Even if those shackles weren’t on, the alloy they and the frame are made out of is incredibly tough. Adamantium laced with diamond; it’s nearly as impervious to damage as you are. Or were, before I turned the shackles on. I like to keep a little insurance, just in case. I’m a rather cautious fellow, and I have waited such a long time for someone like you to fall into my trap,” the aged, whining voice continued.

Will twisted again, finally spying the voice’s owner. A wizened, elderly man, short, with a slightly oversized bald head and beady yellow eyes stood in one corner. His pale, wrinkled skin was dotted with age spots, and his claw-like hands trembled very slightly as he began to walk forward. Mastermind, Will realized, recognizing him from the briefing he had gotten from the Bureau.

Mastermind gave a twisted grin as he stepped up next to the frame, his pale eyes boring into Will’s. Casually he reached out one hand and stroked Will’s ass.

“Such a tight, sweet, firm young boy,” he said cheerfully, as absolute revulsion wracked Will’s body. He tried to wrench himself away from that horrible hand, but between the tightness of the shackles and the bar under his hips, he could only flinch a few inches away.

“Don’t touch me!” he snarled, almost shaking with disgust. Mastermind only smiled wider, showing twisted and rotting teeth. Will suddenly felt someone digging in his head, and belatedly tried to strengthen his mental walls. He had no psychic powers, so the best he could do was that, but between his disorientation from being captured and his own emotions, his walls were weak. There was an almost audible crumble as his walls broke, and Mastermind began to pick through his brain.

Shame flooded his body as he could feel the memories Mastermind was examining. His friends, his family, Layla… things he had done with Layla, things he hadn’t done with Layla, things he only daydreamed about, and not necessarily including Layla… Mastermind chuckled cruelly as he finally withdrew his mental powers.

“A red-headed goddess like that hanging on your arm for nearly three years and you haven’t done more than a simple kiss? Good heavens boy, with your powers you could have held her down and fucked her brains out a thousand times by now, and trust me, she would have enjoyed it. Oh but of course, you’re a good boy, you’d never think of doing that to your girlfriend. Or is it just because she’s a girl?” he asked, laughing. Will was feeling literally ill, as Mastermind continued his relentless litany of Will’s innermost desires.

“No, no, when you jerk off in the shower, and by the way, that’s quite a fine piece of equipment you have there…” he licked his lips and Will felt his gorge rise, “You aren’t thinking about her. When you cum, you’re thinking about someone else. And not even another girl; that might almost be acceptable to you. You’re thinking about your best friend. That very tasty young man in leather, Warren Peace, isn’t it?”

“No!” Will protested, his eyes closed as he felt tears begin to fill them. He was trapped God-knows-where, chained facedown and naked to a bed frame, powerless to free himself, his mind completely open to a perverted and psychotic supervillain genius. Helpless didn’t even begin to cover what he felt like right now.

“Really? Let’s try an experiment, shall we?” Mastermind put on hand on Will’s head, and suddenly his mind was filled with potent images of Layla. Everything from back when they were little, up through the farewell kiss she had given him before he had flown off to fight Mastermind’s Destructo-Bots. He could feel her lips on his, a dozen, a hundred times over. The scent of honeysuckle and roses that came from her skin and hair, the soft feel of her body when he had carried her during training, or just when they had flown together for fun… A hundred thousand images, sensations, and scents of Layla paraded through his memory in the span of a few moments, and for a brief instant, he could almost feel her next to him.

“Hmm… nothing going on down there.” Mastermind’s grating voice cut through the memory-stream, and the images of Layla abruptly vanished. The lecherous old man was leaning over to get a clear view of Will’s groin, and clucked his tongue at its flaccid state. “Even if images themselves wouldn’t do it, usually sensation or certainly scent will trigger some kind of reaction. But you… nothing. Not even a twitch. Hmm… well, let’s move on to Subject Two.”

Now images of Warren flooded Will’s mind; from their first meeting and fight in the cafeteria, to the dozens of training sessions they had run with the group. Laughter from the few times Warren had unbent enough to laugh, Will’s breath catching as he saw how amazingly beautiful Warren was when he smiled. The feel of his body the few times he had flown Warren during training, or once during a very rare hug when Warren had had a very bad day.

Then one glorious image of Warren in swim trunks the single time they had coaxed him into the hot tub at Ethan’s house during a Fourth of July party. Will had never been so grateful that he had been already sitting in the water, or that the water had been churning so hard that the froth hid his unexpected reaction. Will had gotten an immediate erection just from seeing Warren in the unexpected state of dishabille, and became nearly unable to control himself when Warren had sat down next to him. He remembered the scent of ginger Warren always seemed to carry with him, oddly intensified by the humid air. And when Warren had jokingly pushed him under (Will remembered Warren’s hands seemed even hotter than the water), Will completely lost it and came right there. It had surprised him so much; he had stayed under long enough to worry the rest of his friends, trying to suppress his shock and completely unacceptable desires for his best friend…

“’Unacceptable desires?’ Oh, I don’t think so. They’re more than acceptable to me,” Mastermind’s voice ended the memories again and Will opened his eyes. “My, you’re a big boy, aren’t you?”

Will realized he was completely, achingly erect after that little trip down memory lane. It’s Warren I really want? And not Layla? He was shaking with as much confusion as shame, wondering if Mastermind was actually manipulating his thoughts.

“Oh no, just reading them. I wouldn’t change a thing in that pretty head of yours; your shame is just delicious on its own,” Mastermind said casually, reaching out to stroke Will with his thin hand. Will abruptly deflated, disgusted by the man’s touch, and Mastermind made a disapproving snort.

“Take away my fun will you? After I just helped you realize where your true feelings lie? Certainly that’s worth a little cooperation from you?” he asked in a mock-pouting tone. Will was simply struggling not to throw up.

“Don’t touch me,” he repeated weakly.

“Well, then, if you don’t want me to touch you, then I won’t,” he said simply, and retreated back two steps to sit in a chair. “He’ll do it instead.”

Wild panic filled Will as he heard heavy footsteps behind him, and realized what was going to happen. He thrashed and pulled against his bonds, ignoring the sawing pain from his wrists and ankles, and the bruises he was inflicting on his chest and hips. Mastermind simply smiled, watching Will struggle with great interest. It took several minutes before Will finally had to stop and hung, exhausted, in his bonds.

“I’m sure the Bureau told you that I can control all my robots with my mind. That is, by the way, how I was able to capture you. Enhanced stun-ray from one my spy-drones as you imprudently tried to find my lair. Now, I also discovered, mostly by accident, that I can actually feel what my robots feel as well, provided there’s some kind of organic tissue involved. Cyborgs work fairly well, but there’s always the will of another to contend with. This, however, is my latest and greatest creation, a perfect compromise. Meet Zom-Bot.”

The heavy footsteps continued around the bed frame, and a tall and broad figure came into view. At first it looked like the preserved corpse of a tall and broad young man, the skin gray, leathery, and somewhat moist, the eyes dry and staring. It accordance with Mastermind’s newly apparent preferences, the walking corpse was also muscular, naked, and well endowed. Looking closer, a metal mesh ran under every inch of its preserved skin, showing its robotic enhancements.

“Zom-Bot has plenty of flesh for me to feel, though his perceptions are a little dim. No matter, he can keep going long enough to satisfy even me. The only question is if my toys can hold out as long as it takes. You see, I’m a bit too old to do this myself these days; no lead left in the old pencil I’m afraid. So Zom-Bot does all the hard work for me, and I just enjoy the rewards. You can scream if you want to, this place is quite soundproof, and I always enjoy a good scream…”

Will was too frightened to scream at first, both of the depths of Mastermind’s insanity, and of his ultimate fate. Then Zom-Bot put his slimy, strong hand on Will’s shoulder, and the other his hip, the scent of decay now thick in the hero’s nostrils. With no preamble, Zom-Bot suddenly thrust his metal-enhanced cock deep into Will’s bowels. Then Will could do nothing but scream.

The endless pistoning in and out never seemed to stop, nor did the pain. It came in surges, times where it was a bit less than the others, but other times, when Zom-Bot would pick up the pace or the force, when he could only scream hoarsely. The rest of the time he simply whimpered, occasionally begging for him to stop.

Mastermind was there every time Will opened his eyes, his legs crossed elegantly, his eyes glittering every time Will’s face would twist in new pain. What was even worse was that a time or two Zom-Bot had actually hit some bundle of nerves that had sent thrills of pleasure down Will’s spine and groin, all the more intense and unexpected because of the pain he was experiencing. Each time that had happened, he had longed unbearably for Warren, and somehow he knew Mastermind had noticed.

The humiliation was possibly even worse than the pain, and more than once Will had simply lost it and vomited. Now he could only dry heave, which made the whole disgusting experience just that much more unbearable. He was so sunk in his own misery and despair that it took him several minutes to notice when he passed into unconsciousness. Or rather, when he passed out of unconsciousness.

His backside, hips, and chest hurt horribly, barely eclipsing the pain of his raw wrists and ankles. His head throbbed; a distant third in pain, probably a side effect of Mastermind’s mental meddling. Cautiously he raised his head and looked around, realizing that the room was empty for once. Almost unbelieving, he saw that the shackles were no longer glowing white, which meant their power-neutralizing properties were gone. A sudden hope for freedom penetrated Will’s despair, and strength surged back through his body. Will tightened his muscles, feeling the stubborn shackles resisting back, but refusing to give up.

Mastermind hadn’t lied when he said they were tough, but Will was the strongest superhero on the entire planet, and there wasn’t a chain made that could hold him! Will could feel the metal begin to creak and protest, and redoubled his efforts again and again. Maybe Mastermind had thought Will would be passed out longer, maybe he thought he had broken Will so thoroughly that he wouldn’t be able to move. He had been wrong, and with a roar, the shackles finally snapped. Panting and sobbing, Will reached first for his super-suit, refusing to face anyone until he had on the armor of clothing.

A tiny trickle of confidence came back into him as he finally tugged on his gauntlets as the last bit of his costume, and he took a few deeps breaths to try to get himself calm. He was going to pay for this later, he knew it, but right now if he bothered to let himself think and feel what he had just been through, he was going to curl up on the floor and never move again. Now drained of emotion, feeling cold as ice, Will gave the door a single punch. It flew down the corridor outside, narrowly missing the approaching Mastermind and Zom-Bot.

“Back for another round?” Will growled and flew at them. Mastermind didn’t even have a chance to respond; Will grabbed him by the face and slammed his skull into the wall behind him, smashing his head open like an egg. He whirled on the now inert Zom-Bot, rage flooding him, and he began to pound the cyborg zombie with unnatural fury. When he finally stood up, Zom-Bot was nothing more than a pile of rotting meat, entangled with wires and tubing.

Will stood for a moment, staring at the bodies of his two tormentors. Well Guardian, you just had complete and total revenge on them for what they did to you. Mastermind is dead beyond all reason of a doubt, and nothing is going to be able to put Zom-Bot back together again, his conscience told him with heavy sarcasm. Will’s stomach began to churn when he realized what he had just done. I killed him. I didn’t take him in for justice, I just killed him, I… He had killed, and killed horribly. His first solo mission, his first real official venture into the world of superheroes, and he had been captured, raped, and then killed someone in cold blood.

Will collapsed on the floor again, his body convulsing as he tried to bring something up from his empty stomach. It took several minutes before he could even stand again, and by that point he was longing, with all of his heart, for home.

I have to get out of here… I just need someplace safe… Maybe Warren can, oh God! His thoughts were stopped short when he thought of Warren. Warren was his best friend, and Warren also was the one people went to for advice but… It killed him inside to think that Mastermind had been in any way right, but he didn’t know how he could even face Warren right now. It was true, he loved Layla, but whenever it came to anything sexual, he kept thinking of Warren. What did that say about him? Was he actually into guys? Had he been stringing Layla along?

God, what could he tell Layla? She was so innocent, so pure, so sweet, so good. He couldn’t imagine telling her about this, about rape and murder. The thought of Layla knowing about this made him physically ill again. It was like Layla was the guardian of all things that were good in this world, and it would be sacrilege to sully her mind and heart with his own burden. And even if he didn’t tell her that, how could he tell her that he could never be with her intimately? That nothing about her excited him as much as the bare thought of Warren did? He had been her boyfriend for three years, how could he explain that he had just come to this conclusion?

The scent of fresh blood and rotting flesh was filling his nostrils again, and Will suddenly couldn’t stand it anymore. He flew straight up, pounding through the ceiling, then the one above that, and soon found himself in open air, somewhere high above the mountains. Taking deep, greedy breaths of the sweet, fresh air, Will consulted the GPS built into the watch on his gauntlet. Surprisingly, he was only a few miles north of Denver, where he had fought the Destructo-Bots. More surprisingly, he found it was Sunday. He had left to fight the ‘Bots on Friday afternoon, and now it was Sunday morning. He had been gone almost two days.

It feels like it might have been two weeks, or two months, he thought, glancing downward. He was supposed to go back to the Denver field office of the Bureau of Superpowered Affairs to make his report… but right now he just couldn’t do it. Taking another deep breath, he punched in the coordinates for Maxville and headed back home.

Somehow he managed to sneak back into the Secret Sanctum without his parents noticing, hung up his super-suit and get back into regular clothes before they knew he was home. He was lucky he had kept an extra jacket down here, because he had to wear something to cover the damage to his wrists. He had just managed to tug them down to cover them properly when his dad came sliding down the pole. Steve Stronghold looked at Will, surprised for a half second, then ran right over to him and gave him a huge bear-hug.

“Will! My God, where have you been? Josie! Will’s back!” he called, then turned his attention back to his son. He had been so glad to see him he hadn’t noticed Will’s initial flinch or repressed panic when he hugged him. Josie Stronghold came sliding down a few seconds later and joined in the family group hug, laughing and smiling. Will had a sudden feeling of claustrophobia that was growing with each passing second, and finally he used a bit of his super-strength to break his father’s grip. He clamped down hard on his lip for control, not wanting to cry.

“Will… honey, how did it go? What’s been going on? The Denver branch of the Bureau wouldn’t tell us anything, just that you had defeated the Destructo-Bots and had gone hunting Mastermind in his lair,” his mom asked, stepping forward again to brush his hair out of his eyes. Will couldn’t help himself; he flinched back before she could touch him.

“I… got into his lair. I defeated him,” he said simply. “I need to go take a shower and go to bed.” With that he abruptly flew upstairs, heedless of the danger of being seen, and into the bathroom. Shudders wracked his body as he shoved off his clothes and stepped into the shower. He turned the heat up as much as he could stand, despite the stinging in his wrists and ankles. The heat seemed to help the bruises on his chest and hips a little, but as for a little further down…

Will felt filthy, cold, the stink of Zom-Bot’s rotting flesh still in his nose, the cold of that room, the filthy looks Mastermind had been giving him all making him feel like no amount of soap or water was even going to get him clean again. That didn’t stop him from trying though, and he only stopped when he realized he had used up most of the hot water. Reluctantly he turned off the shower and toweled himself off gingerly. He rubbed the condensation off the mirror and looked at himself soberly. The heavy purple-black bands of bruising on his torso looked horrible, and his wrists and ankles were raw in almost two-inch strips, a bare hair way from freely bleeding. Will couldn’t even bear to try to look at the damage to his backside, and so didn’t.

Now that his super-strength wasn’t being repressed, Will wasn’t sure what would happen next. He hadn’t even had a scrape since he first powered up three years ago. Sure, he could still feel pain if he got hit, but it was always transitory. He hadn’t had to deal with an actual injury in far too long. He fished out the first aid kit from the medicine cabinet and gingerly applied some antibiotic ointment and bandages to his wrists and ankles.

Next he pulled out a bottle of painkillers and shook out a few. He considered the bottle very carefully for a very long minute. Suicide was generally not something that had ever crossed his mind, but right now a permanent escape had a lot of appeal. He took a shuddering breath as he abruptly swallowed a couple and resolutely put the bottle back in the cabinet. He wasn’t even sure if it would work, considering his powers. Or if it actually did affect him, it might not kill him. That would land him in the hospital, and his parents would figure out what had happened to him. He couldn’t handle that, not at all. And finally, he couldn’t stand to think of people believing Mastermind had truly defeated him. He was Guardian, the strongest superhero on the planet!

Will actually laughed bitterly out loud when that thought cross his mind, and took a second to get himself back under control.

“Will? Honey? Are you ok?” his mom called from the other side of the door.

“Yeah, I’m fine! I’ll be out in a minute, and then I’m going to bed!” he called back.

Behind the door, Josie Stronghold exchanged a troubled glance with her husband. Will had been in the shower for over an hour, which was more than enough time to do a little investigating of their own. The Bureau had told them that after Will had destroyed the Destructo-Bots, he had found a tracking device within one of them. Taking that device, he had flown off into the Rockies to hunt down Mastermind in his lair. After that, the Bureau had lost contact with him for almost two days. Two days in which they had claimed he was simply “mopping up.” Two days in which they had lied to the Commander and Jetstream about the location of their son, because they hadn’t known themselves.

Right now, Josie and Steve thought they might understand the Bureau’s reluctance to talk. Because Josie held in her hand the bloodstained gauntlet from Will’s super-suit.

Will emerged from the bathroom and went straight to his bed, ignoring his parents and closing the door behind him. His parents crept silently to the door and listened carefully, and Josie thought she heard a very faint sob, heavily muffled as if from a pillow. Her heart contracted, and she hugged Steve close for a very long time.

Two days later, Will still hadn’t come out from his bedroom, and both his parents had gone past worried into near panic. Each time one or the other of them had asked how he was doing, he had simply said, “Fine! I’m tired, go away!” He hadn’t eaten anything since he came home, and every time his parents had tried to tempt him with his friends, he had refused all callers. In desperation, Steve had finally forced Will’s door open so Layla could get in to talk to him.

Will was lying in bed, dressed in long-sleeved winter pajamas despite the fact that it was July, staring at the wall. Steve had the horrible suspicion that he had been that way for two days.

“Go away,” he said tiredly when his door opened.

“Will? It’s Layla,” she said cautiously, stepping into the room. Will didn’t even react, and Steve shut the door again to give them some privacy.

“Go away Layla, I’m tired,” he said again.

“Will, you haven’t come out in two days!” she exclaimed. “Please, what’s going on? I want to help you, we all do…”

She sat on the bed and put out her hand to rest on Will’s shoulder. His reaction was immediate and violent; he jerked away so hard he actually dumped her on the floor.

“Go away!” he screamed, sitting up in bed. Layla was shocked at how he looked, pale and thin, with dark circles under his eyes like he hadn’t slept in a week. His eyes were nearly dead, which scared Layla white. Choking, she scrambled to her feet and stumbled out the door, shutting it behind her. Steve Stronghold looked at her, startled, and put an encouraging arm around her shoulder.

“He… he needs help,” she said softly. “And I… I can’t do it. I’m sorry, I just can’t!” With that, she pushed away from him and ran out of the house, crying nearly the whole way. Josie stepped out of her own bedroom and gave Steve a significant glance.

“That does it, we’re going to Denver and seeing Mastermind’s lair for ourselves,” she said firmly. “Something happened when Will was tracking him, something horrible.”

Steve looked as if he were going to protest, then looked back at Will’s door and nodded.

“You saw the gauntlet. And the Bureau’s being coy about the whole affair. I think we both know that can only add up to one thing,” she said, and raised an eyebrow.

“Will killed Mastermind,” Steve said reluctantly. It was horrible to think that their son could have murdered someone, but in their line of work, it was not only possible, it was actually very probable that they would have to kill a supervillain in order to get them to stop. Steve had killed over a dozen supervillains, and he regretted each and every one. Each time, there had been no other choice, but it made it no easier. Will was punishing himself for his crime, and he refused to talk about it. So the Strongholds had to find out for themselves.

“We better bring in the Peaces after we learn what we can,” Josie added. “Even if he won’t talk to Joy, at least she can give us some better idea of what to say. And maybe it would be easier for him to talk to Warren. Warren… understands pain.”

Warren’s mother, Joy Peace, a.k.a. the Peacemaker, was a powerful empath, able to read, project, and manipulate emotion. She helped stop wars and negotiate treaties, but she also was the counselor and psychiatrist for the whole superhero community. She was extremely ethical though, and never forced her powers on the unwilling. If Will refused her help, there was only so much she could do.

But Warren, a.k.a. Phoenix, had been on active hero duty for a year already. Several times he had been forced to hurt people, burn them, to get them to surrender. Twice already he had killed, a pair of evil twin telepaths that had been intent on ripping apart a nuclear power station. It had been either kill them or watch Maxville and most of the state go up in a nuclear holocaust. He had spent a lot of time with his mother getting over the guilt that had caused. Perhaps Warren would be able to crack the shell of Will’s pain better than his parents’ concern or his girlfriend’s sympathy.

“Should we get someone to stay here in case Will gets up?” Steve asked as the two got into costume for their trip to Denver. Josie sighed.

“Steve, I think the house could catch on fire right now and Will wouldn’t even care. Nothing is getting him out of that room,” she said with resignation. Then her face abruptly crumpled and Steve folded her into his arms.

A bare hour later, the Commander and Jetstream touched down at the Denver field office of the Bureau of Superpowered Affairs. Their fame had gotten them an immediate meeting with the director, Sebastian Corbett, a.k.a. Agent Astral, a powerful psychic.

“I believe I can understand why you’re here,” he said simply.

“Mastermind’s lair, what did you find?” the Commander demanded. Corbett looked very thoughtful for a minute.

“Are you sure you want to know?” he asked finally. They both looked at him incredulously.

“Our son hadn’t spoken, eaten, or left his room in two days. Yes, we want to know!” Jetstream snapped. Corbett rocked back in his seat at her fury, and quickly dialed up the holocam images they had taken.

“We found his lair by the hole Guardian had left in it. When we went in… we found this. It’s rather gory,” he warned, as he switched the images. Both of them gasped when the body came into focus, the head completely crushed, the wall smeared with blood and brains.

“Is that-?” the Commander got out.

“Yes, it’s Mastermind. It took some fairly extensive reconstructive work, but we finally confirmed it was him. That other pile of stuff on the floor is apparently one of Mastermind’s creations. We found the plans in his computer, this is what it looked like when it was whole,” he said, and flipped the holocam to a new image, showing Zom-Bot in its original form.

“It was a cyborg zombie,” Corbett explained. “Now, apparently Guardian was being held in this room.” The view switched again, and the Strongholds could see how Will had smashed the door open from the inside. When they caught sight of the frame and shackles, their breath caught. “The restraints were power-neutralizer shackles, and both them and the frame were made of adamantium-diamond composite. Apparently once the shackles had been turned off, Guardian was able to break them. That’s a very impressive feat, by the way. I’m not sure even you could do that, Commander.”

“What… happened in that room?” Jetstream asked, starting to shake. Corbett looked at her with sympathy, but didn’t stop.

“With the DNA evidence, it was apparent Guardian had been bound at the wrists and ankles, probably face-down, naked, on that frame. Mastermind had been sitting in the chair at the head of the frame. The cyborg zombie had been standing at the foot of the bed. We know that at least three times, Guardian vomited during his ordeal. There were no cameras in this room, and unfortunately there is no further hard evidence to suggest what else might have happened,” Corbett stated simply.

Jetstream burst into tears and the Commander looked quite ready to kill something.

“It’s a damn good thing Mastermind is already dead,” he said simply, cracking his knuckles. “You already know what happened though, don’t you?”

“One of my powers is pyschometry, object reading. For me, walls do talk. Mastermind was known to the Bureau to have several unsavory and illegal habits, pedophilia amongst them. He could also feel what his robots felt, particularly if they had some kind of flesh incorporated into them. He brought all of that to bear when he tortured Guardian,” Corbett explained obliquely.

“He raped him,” Jetstream said it first through her tears.

“By proxy of the cyborg zombie, yes. I believe he attempted some kind of mental torture as well, by using his powers against Guardian. And I have not the slightest qualm about Guardian’s treatment of Mastermind. He deserved far worse,” Corbett said, his jaw clenched tightly. The Commander was sitting back heavily in his chair, mentally reeling at the news, anger and disbelief a hard tangle within him.

“And when,” he asked, “were you going to tell us this? Another week? Two? Never?”

“When you came to us and were ready to hear. We had hoped that perhaps at home he might be able to recover,” the director explained.

“What are we going to do? He’s going to starve himself to death before he comes out of his room!” the Commander said, glaring at Corbett.

“We… we…” Jetstream tried to calm herself, “We’re going to bring in the Peacemaker and Phoenix. She could at least try to help him… and Phoenix is his best friend. Phoenix might understand at least.”

Corbett nodded solemnly, but had little further to add. Guardian was still living at home, and with his own parents standing by to make sure he didn’t either attempt suicide or go crazy, there wasn’t too much else the Bureau was willing to do at this point. No hospital could hold Guardian if he didn’t want to be held, so right now home was the best place for him.

The Strongholds flew back to Maxville in a very disturbed frame of mind, but no less determined to help their son. Josie got on the phone to Joy and Warren the minute they reached the Sanctum, her tears and hysteria long-since dried up on the flight back. She didn’t want to tell them the details; it was really up to Will what he wanted to say, and she had no right to spill something so private, not even to his best friend. But the concern in her tone was more than enough to alarm both of them, and the description of Will’s odd behavior prompted Joy to say that they would be right over.

Warren could hardly believe when his mom told him what was going on. He had been gone most of the week on a mission against the Brotherhood of Frost, and had been looking forward to celebrating Will’s first solo mission together with him when he got home. But to hear Will had been missing for two days and hadn’t left his room in nearly three… And by the odd hints his mom was throwing out, she had picked up the situation was a lot worse.

At the Stronghold house, the whole place had an air of gloom. Both Mr. and Mrs. Stronghold looked worn, showing their age in a way that shocked Warren. Whatever had happened to Will, they already knew about it, and it had completely floored them. The minute his mom had crossed the threshold, he had seen the faint crease on her forehead that meant she was picking up something very strong, emotion-wise.

“I’ll do what I can, but if Will’s cutting himself off, there’s only so much I can do through resistance. There may be something or someone that can help break him out of his shell, but it might not be me. What I think I can do, though, is to at least get him out of his room and eating again. But if he doesn’t start talking about this to someone… Well I can’t say for sure what will happen, but it’s not going to be good. Josie, get some soup ready in about fifteen minutes or so. And stay downstairs. If I manage to get him down here, do not talk to him unless I say it’s ok,” the Peacemaker warned. The Strongholds looked at each other with trepidation, but finally nodded in agreement.

Warren waited downstairs with the Strongholds as his mother went up to try to pry Will out of the worst of his shell. He wasn’t sure if Will’s parents were even breathing as they watched the stairs, jumping at every little sound. They both finally went into the kitchen when Warren nudged them to prepare Will some food, so Warren was the only one there when Will finally walked down the steps, the Peacemaker trailing behind.

Warren was shocked by Will’s appearance, and almost said something, but was hushed by his mom before he could get a word out. Will looked almost shrunken, folded in on himself. He was pale, with dark circles under his eyes, draped in pajamas that looked a size too big for him, his blanket wrapped around his shoulders and head. He stared straight ahead; not looking at anything in particular, and finally stumbled down the steps and into the kitchen. Warren heard a quickly choked-off gasp from Will’s mom, and snuck a little closer to see what was going on.

Will took the bowl of soup from the table and gulped it down in a few swallows. Then he resumed his staring at the table. Joy Peace quickly gestured Warren off to the side for a quick conference.

“Honey, I don’t know exactly what happened to Will, but I think you’ll be able to help him. He’s hurting inside in more ways than one, but somehow everything is tangled up with you. I think he’ll listen to you, and maybe he’ll be willing to talk. It doesn’t matter if his parents know what really happened to him if Will can’t acknowledge it to himself. If he doesn’t talk about it soon…” she trailed off and Warren put a hand on her shoulder.

“He’s my best friend. I’ll do whatever I can, you know that,” he whispered, and she gave him a sad smile.

“I’m going to try to get Will outside. You go out there and sit where he can see you. I think he needs some kind of open space around him when he talks,” she murmured.

Warren waited outside on one of the benches next to the fishpond. He had a horrible feeling in the pit of his stomach that whatever he said out here was either going to heal Will completely, or shatter him for life. What on earth could have driven Will, happy-go-lucky Will, to become a complete recluse in two days? Only a few things came to mind, all of them quite terrible enough that he wouldn’t have inflicted them on his worst enemies.

He was thinking so hard, he nearly missed Will’s exit from the house, and jumped a bit when Will sat down on the opposite side of the bench. He was still wrapped in his blanket, slouched over as if trying to hide within it. He didn’t even look at Warren, just continued that blank stare straight ahead.

“It’s like eighty degrees out here,” Warren commented, looking at Will sideways.

“I’m still cold. You’re wearing your jacket,” Will whispered with the faintest hint of humor. Warren smiled back at him, and he watched Will’s expression do the oddest little jig, as if trying to be startled, embarrassed, angry, and deliriously happy all at the same time.

“If you’re still cold under all that, then I think you need professional help,” Warren said, deciding to play it very casually. “Why’re you cold? Are you sick?”

Will stiffened up a bit, and then forcibly seemed to relax himself.

“No, I’m not sick, I’m pretty sure,” he said softly.

“Good, how would that look, go on your first mission and catch a cold? Lame,” Warren said with a quiet smile.

“Yeah… lame,” Will murmured. Warren watched as Will moved a bare two inches closer to him on the bench. Very, very slowly, Warren stretched out his hand; letting Will see him the entire way. It was like trying to get a wary cat to accept a petting, you had to let them see every movement, and let them know there was nothing to fear. Will started to shiver faintly, as if both flinching and trying to stop himself from doing the same. Slower and slower, Warren carefully let his hand settle softly on Will’s forearm.

Then everything came apart. A feeling of wrongness clamped in around Warren, the wrongness that told him when someone was physically hurt, when he needed to use his healing power. The ember-red fire sprang up involuntarily on his hands, and Will tried to jerk away again. Only tried, because Warren clamped down on Will’s wrist in a reflexive (though usually futile) attempt to keep him there. When Warren increased his grip, Will gasped in pain and sagged in his seat.

Astonished that anything he could have done could have hurt Will, Warren shoved back the sleeve of Will’s shirt, revealing the bandaged wrist. Frantically Warren ripped the bandage free, revealing the raw, red marks from the shackles. His mouth hanging open, and his healing senses spurring him on, he shoved back the suddenly-compliant Will’s other sleeve, then both pant legs, finally revealing the extent of the binding marks.

Will stared at him, his eyes bright with tears, his face flushed with shame.

“My God Stronghold, what did he do to you?” Warren asked finally. Will burst into tears, relief suffusing his face when he flung himself into Warren’s arms, and Warren held him close instead of shoving him away, as he was sure Will was expecting him to do. He hadn’t seen anyone in a breakdown like this… ever. Sobs wracked Will’s body and tears streamed down his face. He clutched at Warren desperately even as Warren folded his arms around him, sheltering him from the storm of his own emotions.

He didn’t know how long it took for Will to cry himself out, but the sun was starting to set by the time Will finally relaxed a little. Even then he wouldn’t pull himself away from Warren, but instead just seemed to sag tiredly into his arms, displaying an innocent trust that shook Warren to the core. Will’s parents couldn’t get him to cry, his girlfriend couldn’t get him to say anything, even his own mother, an expert in all kinds of emotional trauma, couldn’t bring him to any kind of release. Why was Will so trusting with him?

“Will… what happened? He tied you down? How did he do that?” Warren asked, ducking his head a bit to look Will in the eyes. Will simply tipped his head back from his position on Warren’s chest, and Warren had to take a hard swallow. Will looked so vulnerable, so open, his eyes huge and dark in the fading sunlight. Warren had a very powerful urge to kiss away the remains of his tears, and he felt his body begin to heat up at the thought.

Warren liked Will; he liked him a lot. They had been best friends for the past three years, ever since Homecoming Will’s freshman year. But Will had Layla, and Warren… Well he had his few friends with benefits. The curse of being a pyrokinetic with powers linked to his emotions meant that whenever things got intense, he flamed up. So everyone he had ever had sex with had to be fireproof. Melissa Frost had been the first person to point that out, that first Homecoming he had attended. She couldn’t have sex without freezing someone; he couldn’t without burning. Together, the two of them could scratch their mutual itches without hurting anyone.

Unfortunately, they both knew there wasn’t much more in a relationship for them than sex. They really didn’t have any common interests besides that, and had finally agreed to keep things on the oddly distant/intimate level they had achieved. But once that particular tiger had been unleashed, there hadn’t been any stopping it. Warren had wanted more, and he tried to find ways to fill his needs. He found a few more pyrokinetics and cryokinetics in the same boat as him; the only problem was that several of them were guys.

Maybe he had been sex-crazed; losing his virginity at sixteen had triggered a back-flood of repressed sexual longings, but he hadn’t been averse to experimenting. He was glad he had, finding pleasure with all of his partners, though all of them had kept things extremely discrete. Pyrokinetics and cryokinetics probably weren’t the only ones in the superhero community with intimacy issues, but it just wasn’t something people talked about. Warren certainly hadn’t, nor had he ever mentioned to Will that he might consider his best friend in that particular context. Will obviously had no idea the affect his vulnerability was having on him.

This is sick, Peace. You can read between the lines and you know damn well what he just went through. Stop thinking with your pants and get your head back in the game. He feels safe with you, and if you can get him to talk about what happened, then do it. Just don’t do anything stupid, like kiss him right now, his brain yammered at him. Warren took in a deep, slow breath, carefully getting himself back under control, as Will hesitantly began to talk.

“He, Mastermind, he-,” Will began, and then took a shuddering breath. “Power-neutralizer shackles. He used a stun-ray on me, got me into a… room. There was a… frame. He strapped me to it with the shackles.”

“That’s how you got hurt,” Warren said quietly. With Will’s powers suppressed, he was as fragile as a normal person, and took wounds just as easily. “Will you let me…?” Warren trailed off, and let one hand begin to glow with his healing ember-flames.

“Wait,” Will whispered, “I’m not done yet.” Warren froze, not daring barely to breathe.

“He made me remember things… he was digging through my head. Sex stuff, mostly. Wanted to humiliate me. He did,” Will said, his hands fitfully kneading Warren’s shirt as he spoke. Will’s hands were also unintentionally caressing Warren’s nipples, and Warren was a little hard-pressed to keep his objectivity.

You are a sick, sick, sick man Warren Peace. He’s spilling his heart to you about the most horrible experience you can imagine and all you can thing about is how much nicer this would feel if your shirt was off! You’re a pervert, his conscience snapped at him. Warren mentally gritted his teeth and resolutely concentrated on what Will was saying. Keeping anger in his mind against Mastermind helped, because imaging drawing and quartering the supervillain over a slow fire was the only way he was going to keep from powering up in anger and burning the Stronghold’s bench.

“Made me remember Layla, called me a ‘good boy’ and laughed at me ‘cause I haven’t had sex with her yet,” Will was saying. Will’s a virgin? The hell? Warren thought idly.

“Said he didn’t see a reaction from me,” Will paused and swallowed hard, and took several long breaths in and out. “Then… he… made me remember you. That time… last Fourth of July; you pushed me under in the hot tub. I came, because you were so beautiful.”

He… what?! Warren’s thoughts came to an abrupt halt. He came because I touched him? He thinks I’m beautiful? Will kept plunging on though, words tumbling out of him in an unending stream, no longer looking at Warren, his eyes squeezed tightly shut.

“He had some cyborg zombie, Zom-Bot, said he would touch me. God, he pushed into me, over and over and over and he wouldn’t stop! Mastermind was watching me, watching me scream, and it hurt so much... I cried and I puked and I begged him, begged him to stop and he wouldn’t and then I finally passed out. And when I woke up the shackles were off, and I broke them.

“I went and broke out of the room, and they were coming back and I flew at Mastermind and I killed him, cracked his head like an egg, destroyed Zom-Bot and then got out of there and came home. And I can’t sleep because every time I try I keep seeing them, and feeling them. I smell that God-awful stench. And I’m freezing all the time and I feel dirty and I don’t know what Layla is going to say when I tell her that I love her but I really just want you,” Will finally ran out of words, or breath, and was quiet for several minutes, giving Warren the time he needed to try to process all of this.

It’s a damn good thing Mastermind is already dead, had been Warren’s first thought. His second had consisted mostly of a combination of profound disbelief mixed with intense, sexual joy. His third was that now was the worst possible time for him to make any kind of overture towards Will until he had had a chance to think this through on his own.

“Warren, why did you pick Phoenix for your superhero name?” Will asked after a second. Warren was startled at the non sequitur, but answered anyway.

“Rising from the ashes, something good coming out of something bad. I thought it was appropriate, given who my dad is,” Warren explained.

“Fire is used to burn the bad things out, isn’t it? To take out impurities?” Will asked. Warren wasn’t quite sure where Will was going with this, but nodded anyway. Will turned a bit to face him, looking at him frankly in the eyes.

“Purify me,” he whispered. “Heal me. Please.”

“God Stronghold, you don’t ever have to ask me,” Warren said. “Look, I… shouldn’t do this out in the open. Where do you want to go?” Warren was very reluctant to use his healing power in public, as it was something he liked to keep out of the media. Will looked around quickly and pointed to his dad’s workshop. More than just a place for Mr. Stronghold to work, it also had a couple couches and a TV for big game days, and a kitchenette and bathroom for guests, if the Strongholds ever had so many they couldn’t fit them in the house. And it gave the men of the family their own little “boy’s clubhouse.”

“That’ll work. Come on,” Warren said, and stood, keeping one arm around Will’s shoulders. As he walked him to the workshop, Warren looked over Will’s back to the house. He could see the faint silhouettes of the Strongholds and his mom in the fading light through the dining room windows, and gave them a faint nod, confirming what had happened to Will. The Strongholds turned to comfort each other while Joy Peace stepped forward to help them how she could.

Will flipped on the lights in the workshop and let Warren steer him onto the nearest couch. He was still shaking a little as he finally let the blanket drop from his shoulders. Warren sat down next to him and called up the healing ember flames, holding out his hands and letting Will put his own wrists in his palms. In his mind’s eye, Warren could see the faint shadows across the fire of Will’s life, the shadows that told him he was hurt.

As the raw flesh on his wrists slowly healed over, Warren leaned over and did the same to the bands on his ankles. Sitting up again, he nearly choked when Will tugged off his shirt. One, because of the horrible bands of bruising across his chest, and two, because he’d be willing to be half-naked in front of anyone right now. But he did say he wanted you, didn’t he? his brain pointed out. He can’t know what he wants right now. He could just want to feel good after all that’s been done to him. He could want to take a little back for what just happened to him.

Will hadn’t been the first rape victim Warren had ever seen. His mom worked in a crisis center as her cover job, and Warren had joined her there as a volunteer more than once. Sometimes they acted like Will had, withdrawing from all contact. A few reached out for sex from any friendly party just so they could try to feel something good for once. And some tried to take revenge, either in the simple way of a gun, or, in a few extreme cases, trying to rape their rapist, or failing, that anyone they could overpower.

If Will decided to plunge off either of those deep ends, better that it be with Warren than someone else. Warren was indestructible as well as pyrokinetic; Will couldn’t hurt him. In a very private part of his mind, Warren thought he might actually enjoy it if Will decided to jump him, though it definitely wouldn’t be his first choice. Not to mention what would happen to Will’s fragile mind once he came back to his senses.

“What happened there?” Warren asked, looking at the bruising, his hands gently settling on Will’s ribs as the ember fire began its work.

“A bar on the frame. There was one there, and one under my hips…” Will said softly.

“You’re stronger than them. You know that,” Warren said firmly, his eyes closed in concentration as the shadows of the bruising began to fade in his mind’s eye. He heard a faint gasp and felt Will move under his hands. His eyes flew open in astonishment. Will had turned his body so Warren’s hot fingertips were now brushing his naked nipples, Will’s expression one of intense pleasure. Warren was so completely surprised that he jerked his hands back as if burned.

Will’s eyes opened wide, filling with tears, his face crumpling into an expression of utter devastation.

“Oh no you don’t,” Warren said, grabbing Will up in a hug before he could fly away. Warren cursed himself for his reflexive action, realizing that any kind of rejection was going to send Will down a spiral of feeling utterly worthless.

“You don’t… God, I’m sorry,” Will sobbed into Warren’s leather-covered shoulder. “I didn’t mean… If we can just be friends, I won’t ever do that again, I swear, I just…”

“Wait… Wait Stronghold,” Warren said, pulling back a bit to look him in the face. “You think I don’t want you?” Will nodded miserably.

“If I had had any idea… You’ve been with Layla for the past three years, I thought you were happy with her,” Warren said softly, one ember-flamed hand sliding down to Will’s hip, beginning the healing of the remaining bruising and raw flesh from Will’s ordeal. Mentally, he suddenly realized why Mastermind had to turn off the power-neutralizer shackles. If he hadn’t, Will would have bled to death from the internal injuries Zom-Bot had inflicted on him. Only his super-strength had stabilized him, saving him from dying in the depths of Mastermind’s lair. Will shuddered and finally relaxed as the last of the pain left his body.

“I thought I was too. But I’ve been thinking over the last few days. That’s what I’ve been doing, just thinking. And I’ve never even thought about… ya know, doing anything with her. Not ever. I realized… Every single time I’ve cum, I’ve been thinking about you,” he whispered.

That’s really, really hot, Warren thought, his body temperature rising and blood starting to rush to his groin. Calm, be cool Peace. He’s sincere about this, that’s for sure, but he doesn’t know everything about you yet. He needs to make a decision knowing all the facts.

“Will, I’m not a virgin. I’ve had a lot of partners,” Warren began. Will looked surprised, not disgusted though, so that was a good sign.

“But I’ve never seen you with anyone,” he said, confused.

“That’s the point. They weren’t exactly my girlfriends or boyfriends; we were all just sex partners. They were other pyrokinetics and cryokinetics, people that couldn’t have sex with just anyone because they’d kill them by accident. We just all kept things really discrete,” Warren explained, and then took a deep breath. “But I’ve never had any of them say that they wanted me before.”

Will’s expression took an upswing, but Warren wasn’t finished yet.

“I just didn’t realize that after all you’ve been through that you could even think about having sex right now. I don’t want you to do this just because you need to feel good. Think about what you want, don’t just feel it,” Warren said carefully. Will looked at him, his face flushed and his eyes bright. Then he lunged in for a kiss. There was no other way to describe it, Will damn near tackled him back on the couch and pressed his lips hard into him. Warren made a surprised sound and struggled to get free. Will only stopped when he had to pull back for air, and Warren made the most of the opportunity, gritting his teeth, as he knew this was going to hurt Will.

“Stronghold! You don’t have to force me,” he snapped. The words were like a bucket of cold water thrown in Will’s face, and Warren found himself quickly released. Before Will could retreat again, Warren captured his hand and his eyes, trying to put something of what he was feeling into his own expression.

“I’m sorry,” Will whispered, flushed with shame now instead of desire.

“Look, don’t think I’m not interested,” Warren corrected. “You’re my best friend and I love you, you idiot! If you hadn’t been so involved with Layla, I would have tried to make a move years ago. I just don’t think we need to go so fast.”

Will’s expression whipped back to deliriously happy, and Warren idly wondered if it was possible to get whiplash of the face.

“How do you want to go?” he asked.

“It’s your first time, right?” Warren asked gently, and Will nodded, blushing again. “Then I think we need to go real slow.”

“I love you,” he whispered. “I’m sorry I jumped at you, I just couldn’t… I didn’t want to let you walk away. I’ve been thinking about this for days and…”

“Shh… I get it,” Warren said, running his hands through Will’s hair and down his neck.

“And… I think… If it hadn’t been them, if it had been you down there… I think I might have liked it,” Will added in a rush, flushing a painful shade of crimson. Warren pulled back just a little so he could look Will in the face when he said that. Then he gave a wicked smile and leaned in carefully, giving Will a deep and expert kiss that left him gasping. Warren grinned as he let his hands flow all over Will’s naked torso, tracing down his spine, defining the curves of his muscles, and flicking over his nipples. Since all Warren had had before today was simple sex with his partners, he had learned to be very, very good at it, because that was all he had.

“I’m going to make you feel so good…” he rumbled in his chest as his hands slipped down to Will’s pants and underwear, sliding them off and dropping them on the floor. Will’s chest had started heaving a bit as Warren’s hands caressed and pinched his nipples, drawing faint cries out of him. Warren shifted himself a little further down, his hands trailing behind him, gently pushing Will down on the couch.

“Damn Will, you’re like iron down here,” Warren murmured in appreciation as he came level with Will’s cock. The boy was gifted in that department, that was for sure, silky smooth skin covering an impressive shaft of near-metallic hardness. Warren gently caressed the head; his hot hands and touch causing Will to moan. Abandoning all pretenses, his own lust rising at the sight of Will’s firm body, Warren leaned down to trace his tongue where his fingers had just been, then engulf the shaft further, sucking it hard down his hot throat.

His boyfriends had always loved it when Warren went down on them, even when he was just learning, the heat from his body making up for any lack of skill. But judging from the head-thrashing Will was doing, Warren’s skill was more than enough.

“Warren! God, please, more…” he moaned, his hands knotted into fists at his side. Warren smiled inside and began to move his head and hands together, his tongue caressing the underside of Will’s cock. Will’s comments degenerated into incoherent moaning, and when he spasmed and let out a high keening wail, Warren was ready for him. His throat worked as he swallowed, and Warren spared a glance upward as he gently let go of Will.

Will’s whole body was shaking with the aftermath of his orgasm, his body flushed and his eyes bright. Warren smiled broadly at him, shifting up to lay alongside him, one hand propping up his head, the other draped over Will’s hip. Warren’s own lust was rising hard within him, but he wanted to make this as good for Will as he could, and kept control. It took Will a few minutes to get his powers of speech back, time in which Warren spent gently tickling down Will’s hip, slowly bringing that magnificent cock back to life.

“Warren… wow,” Will said finally.

“Up for round two?” Warren asked mischievously, and Will nodded vigorously.

“I want to touch you,” Will whispered, and Warren realized that while Will was quite entirely naked, Warren still had all his clothes on. Laughing at the realization, he let Will pull his jacket, then shirt off, closing his eyes in appreciation as Will tentatively ran his hands over Warren’s bulging muscles.

“You’re so beautiful…” he said softly, and Warren opened his eyes again, warmed in more ways than one at the expression on Will’s face. None of his other partners had looked at him this way; none of them had loved him for him, rather than his powers, his body, or his skill. The expression on Will’s face was more satisfying, in some odd way, than the most spine-tingling sex in the world. Warren leaned in to kiss Will again, prolonging it, his tongue caressing Will’s mouth, his lips almost devouring Will’s, leaving Will trembling.

Will’s hands tugged fitfully at Warren’s jeans, and Warren quickly leaned down and unbuckled his boots, kicking them off, his jeans and boxers following swiftly. Warren got Will in a full-body hug, their groins pressing together hard, both of them gasping a little at the sensation. Warren felt his body heating up again and let it. The hotter he got, the better Will seemed to like it, until Will was practically boneless with relaxation in Warren’s arms.

The naked trust at that was amazing to Warren, and he lavished kisses on Will as his hands trailed down Will’s shoulders and back. Warren hesitated a second before going lower, but Will thrust his pelvis into him with near-bruising strength.

“Please, I want it,” he whispered in Warren’s ear.

“I guess,” Warren murmured, chuckling. Leaning over, he fished into his jacket pocket for a small tube of lube he kept on hand for emergencies. Will flushed crimson when Warren brought that out, and Warren gave him a crooked smile that sent Will laughing at the absurdity of the situation. Warren gently tried to turn Will over, but Will suddenly braced himself and resisted, a flash of blind panic washing over his face.

“Wait, wait…” he said, panting a bit and getting himself back under control as Warren stopped.

“Not that way?” Warren asked softly.

“No… I… I want to see your face,” Will said, the panic fading as Warren eased him around the other way.

“It’s ok, I can’t do anything to you you don’t want me to. You’re stronger than me,” Warren said, leaning in for another kiss. It took another few minutes to get Will calmed down again, but Warren didn’t mind. He wanted all the fears to leave Will’s mind before he went any farther. Slowly he moved down the couch, raising and separating Will’s legs, draping them over his shoulders so he could have easy access. Taking the tube, he greased up a few fingers and slowly began to run his other hand under Will’s back, stroking down to his ass.

Will began to relax again, Warren’s warm touch working its own magic, as he slipped his other hand in. Will tensed a little, then relaxed and began to moan when Warren massaged around his back passage, then slipped a finger inside. Will’s breath hitched and gasped as Warren slowly slid his finger around, adding another, and then a third. Warren was enjoying this at least as much as Will, reveling in the fact that Will’s super-strength was keeping him from the kind of discomfort that he usually had to deal with with his other partners. Also not to mention Will was tight, and Warren could hardly wait to plunge into him. Heat began to gather along his hands and fingers, and Will let out a small moan at the increase in temperature.

He waited though, working his fingers in thoroughly, going further and further in, until he finally found the spot he was looking for and stroked very carefully. Will screamed and arced his back, his legs tightening around Warren’s body, his cock suddenly leaping to attention. He clamped hard on Warren’s fingers, and Warren nearly went cross-eyed when he imagined that around his own cock. Which was painfully hard at this point, and not taking his delayed gratification very easily.

“Warren, what…?” Will gasped out, relaxing a bit as he came down.

“You want more?” Warren asked, lowering Will’s body so his own hard cock made contact with Will’s firm ass.

“God… yes,” he managed, and Warren slowly pushed in. Will’s breath came in tiny gasps as he felt Warren’s cock entering him, inch by slow, careful inch. This was nothing like what Mastermind had done to him, nothing at all. The sensations couldn’t have been more different if he had tried, ginger instead of decay, heat instead cold, and pleasure instead of pain.

Warren closed his eyes as Will’s body closed in around him, unbelievably tight and close, gripping him hard, almost possessively. Faint, almost ghostly flames were flickering along his hands now, but invulnerable Will only kept pressing into his touch.

“God Will, you feel great,” he murmured, one hand reaching out to slide across Will’s stomach.

“Please… move. Want you,” Will gasped out, and Warren, nothing loath, slid out slowly and eased in again, hitting well again, as Will screamed out his appreciation. Control slowly slipped away as he began to pick up speed, spurred on by Will’s voice.

“Please, more, love you Warren, harder, Warren, take me!” Will screamed. The last of Warren’s control evaporated at those last two words, and he grabbed onto Will’s hips and slammed into him over and over with all the strength he possessed, which was not nearly enough to hurt Will in any way, but easily enough to wring new cries out pleasure out of him. Fire burst furiously from Warren’s hands and arms, enveloping them both in a blanket of warmth as intense as their passion.

Warren shouted his climax as Will’s body clamped down around him, Will’s own cock pulsing out his seed all over their stomachs. Warren waited, Will’s powerful muscles drawing out his orgasm, as he put his fiery hand on Will’s cock to help finish him off. Will moaned a bit, a few more pulses shooting out before finally collapsing, Warren following with him, his flames finally dying. After several long minutes, Warren finally was able to lift his head and slowly pulled out of Will. Will whimpered at the loss, and Warren entwined his hand with Will’s.

“Come on, we need a shower,” he said, pulling Will to his feet and into the bathroom. Smiling at the slightly slack, contented expression on Will’s face, he turned up the water as hot as he dared and pulled them both into it. Together the two soaped each other off, Will nearly losing his balance a few times when Warren turned a simple scrubbing into a rather expert groping.

“Feeling better?” he murmured into Will’s ear some time later, pressed up behind his new lover as the hot water poured down on both of them.

“Yeah… I feel warm again,” Will said, pushing back into Warren’s body.

“I noticed,” Warren said with a smirk, wrapping one hand around Will’s waist. “How are you doing?” There were several minutes of warm, humid silence as Will thought over his answer.

“I’m doing ok. I don’t think I’ll have nightmares as much…”

“I’ll be there to chase them away,” Warren murmured, and Will smiled.

“I have to tell my parents… and I have to tell Layla something,” Will continued, sobering again.

“Your parents already know, Stronghold,” Warren told him. “It was just important that you were able to say anything about it.”

“They… do? And…” Will’s voice was full of questions he couldn’t ask.

“They called my mom and me, because they love you and knew we could help,” Warren explained.

“They weren’t expecting this,” Will said softly, snaking a hand around to clutch rather possessively at Warren’s ass.

“Nice…” Warren murmured appreciatively for a second. “No they weren’t. But they’ll be fine with it. Mom already knows what’s going on.”

“What?! She does?” Will almost squawked, whirling around to face Warren and nearly losing his balance.

“My mom’s an empath, she probably was picking up most of what was going on in here. She’ll smooth the way for your parents,” Warren promised, and watched Will’s face redden with embarrassment.

“I had no idea…” he said, hanging his head. Warren lifted Will’s chin and kissed him softly.

“Don’t be embarrassed. Mom isn’t afraid of love, and she knows that what went on in here was just between you and me, because we both wanted it. Besides, she’s been trying to get me together with a nice somebody for years. And you’re very, very nice,” Warren rumbled, hugging Will close and dropping a kiss on his forehead.

“Nice? I’m… nice? That’s it?” Will asked, looking a little indignant. Warren raised an eyebrow.

“That and a few other adjectives, but I’m going to have to show you rather than tell you,” Warren explained.

“Please,” Will said, and soon found himself folded in the arms of his lover and savior.