Just Like Animals

№ 8

Although Ricky was generally put off by Chris' presence, all the care and attention was nice.  He had someone to talk to, food brought to him whenever he was hungry, and all his basic needs met.  It was just a bonus that if he asked politely and played up his injuries a bit, Chris would even carry him to the bathroom.

After about a week of consistent rest, he was starting to feel better but he had yet to return to the basement.  He had been spending his days on the sofa, Chris usually joining him for a couple of hours here or there.  They ate together and occasionally Chris would turn on the news, but Ricky spent a lot of time reading.  It distracted him from the situation he was in and more importantly, it kept his mind off Jaime.

"Could I have another book please?" Ricky wondered, setting the one he had finished to the side.  Chris got up off the sofa and went to the bookshelves, looking for something suitable.

"I like mysteries." Ricky suggested, hoping Chris would have something in the genre.  Chris sighed and moved to a different shelf, trying to find anything that was fiction.

When he had checked all of titles, he picked up a book that wasn't a mystery but it was at least fiction so he hoped it would suffice. "How about 'the fantastical disappearance of a missing person: Ricky Olson'?" He joked, chuckling softly and bringing the book over to where Ricky was laying.

Ricky didn't find the joke funny though, face turning pale and eyes welling up.  Chris noticed the change in Ricky and set the book down on the coffee table.

"Hey, how about I go grab some of your stuff from your house?" Chris offered, "Then you could have any book you want." While Ricky didn't want Chris in his home unsupervised, he did need something to do and would appreciate to have some of his personal affects.

"Could you bring me art supplies too? Then I could do some work." Ricky wondered.  He had been working on a commission for a bit and now it was just sitting on his desk, waiting to be finished and shipped out.

Chris agreed and began to gather himself to go out. The first time Ricky was unconscious and covered in blood, Chris had cleaned him up and plucked his keys off him, moving Ricky's car into his garage before tucking the keys away just in case he needed them again

He opened the cookie jar, finding the keychain that featured a picture of Jaime, tugging out the attached jumble of keys. It was about a half-hour drive to Ricky's house, so he grabbed a bottle of water for himself before poking his head back into the den.

"Anything specific?" Chris wondered, grabbing a pad of paper and a pen off the kitchen counter and handing them over to Ricky.

Ricky didn't respond but rather started writing a list out, eventually handing it over to Chris when he was done. Chris quickly scanned the paper and double checked that Ricky didn't need the bathroom or anything before he left, quickly heading out. 

The drive was quiet and quick, there being almost no traffic and the roads being snow-free for once.  It was a fairly nice day for mid-January and if it weren't for Ricky being left at home like a needy dog, Chris would've most likely spent some time out and about, either just driving around or sitting somewhere and people watching.

Before he knew it, Chris was in a neighborhood, pulling into Ricky's driveway and parking in the shade.  Because Ricky's house was in a more exposed area than Chris', he did everything possible to minimize his known presence.  It started with carefully closing his car door rather than slamming it shut, then beelining to the back of the house where no prying eyes could see.  He found the appropriate key, letting himself in through the kitchen door and suppressing the urge to flick on the lights since it would immediately alert everyone that someone was home.

After a bit of wandering, observing the state of the messy house, he made his way to the little mud room and opened up the closet. As expected, he found plenty of bags, picking out two backpacks and a duffle bag before going to load them full of stuff. 

There were clothes, art supplies, books, and a few other random items along with a couple of things Chris thought would be appreciated, such as some framed photos of Ricky and Jaime together and a personalized candle that also featured a picture of the former couple. 

In the search to find a few particular clothing items, Chris had stumbled upon some adult-themed items that surprised him quite a bit.  He knew Ricky was straight, but was pegging really a 'straight' activity?

Just about everything that Ricky requested had been hunted down and packed up when Chris heard a siren in the distance.  He knew that there was a slim chance it was the police coming for him, but out of an abundance of caution, he decided it was time to leave.  With bags in hand, he made sure to leave everything as he had found it, locking the door behind himself on the way out.

As the siren got closer, he loaded all of Ricky's stuff into his car, getting in the driver's seat and waiting to see what would happen.  After a few minutes of watching the road, an ambulance and a police car went rattling by, completely unaware of Chris and the situation at hand.

The drive back home took slightly longer but the difference was negligible, the only thing that mattered was Chris not getting caught.  As they say, "don't commit a crime while you're commiting a crime." When he was safe and sound at home again, he brought the bags in to Ricky, finding him asleep on the sofa. 

"Did you get my black pencil pouch?" Ricky asked, voice raspy as he stirred in Chris' presence.  Truthfully, Chris wasn't quite sure. He grabbed what he could and if it wasn't on the list, it most likely wasn't in the bags.

"You can check for it." He sighed, taking a seat on the sofa and kicking his feet up on the coffee table.  He relaxed while Ricky dug through all the items, desperately searching.

When every little pocket had been turned inside out to no avail, Ricky burst into tears, throwing the empty bags onto the floor.

"Hey!" Chris snapped, sitting up.  The last thing he wanted was more attitude from Ricky after already doing him a favor.

Ricky cowered, knowing Chris wouldn't hesitate to hit him again. "I really wanted the engagement ring." He blubbered, wiping his eyes.  No matter how emotional Ricky was, Chris didn't want to deal with his whining, not when it was about Jaime and especially not when he brought him so many other items with a similar sentiment.

"Get up." He demanded, going behind the sofa and unlocking the chain. 

Perhaps it was defiance or Ricky just didn't care to listen, but he stayed seated.  Chris had done it several times before when Ricky was unconscious: he picked him up and laid him over his shoulder.  Previously he didn't fight back, but since he was awake this time, he started to throw a fit.  Chris held Ricky's legs tight, stopping his attempts to kick, but he could still feel Ricky punching and pounding on his back.

"If you don't fucking behave, I swear to God, Ricky." Chris huffed, hauling him down the stairs and into the basement.  The threat made Ricky calm down a bit but he was still upset, even more so when Chris tethered him to the beam again and left him alone with not a single extra blanket or book.

Like a pouty baby in time out, Ricky turned to face the wall and curled up, cursing his captor.

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