guy in a chiffon skirt《brallon》

Chapter 49

*one week later*

The police hadn't managed to find the vehicle that Brendon left the bar in, and Dallon was extremely pissed to see that they were beginning to give up.

"Sir, there's just not much more we can do as far as actively searching goes. We'll still have people looking for him, but we don't have the resources to keep this up." Officer Cannon said to Dallon.

"You can't tell me you're giving up. There's got to be something else to go off of." Dallon pleaded.

"We've looked into every lead. We haven't found anything." Officer Cannon said.

**

Pete had, like he said, begun to take matters into his own hands. He'd planned a lunch get-together with Ray and Brent, who were still friends with Ryan. As far as Pete knew, neither of them had any idea that Brendon was missing.

After they had all finished eating and were just talking at the table, Pete brought up the subject he'd been itching to bring up the entire time.

"Have you guys heard from Ryan recently? I haven't seen him in so long." Pete said.

Ray shrugged. "Nah, not much. He moved in with some guy called Travis about a month ago, and ever since then he only ever really hangs with him. Him and Jon."

Brent nodded. "Yeah, last I heard he was working part time at the dollar store on the east side. But that was a couple weeks ago. I haven't talked to him since then."

Pete had to force himself not to smile as he memorized all of the information. "Well, maybe we'll see him around. It was nice talking to you guys."

When Pete got back to Dallon's house, he was practically bouncing as he told Dallon and Spencer about what he'd learned.

"So I think I'm gonna see if I can follow him home from work tomorrow, see where he's staying. I'll just ride by, and later on we can call the cops with the address." Pete said.

Dallon was excited and hopeful, finally they were getting somewhere. Maybe.

**

-explicit-

"Good morning, Brendon."

Brendon opened his eyes, locking them in on Ryan, who was standing at the foot of the bed. He didn't respond, he just closed his eyes again, wishing that all of this was just another nightmare. He heard Ryan walk closer, coming around to the side of the bed, before he felt a dip in the mattress.

Ryan was sitting beside him on the bed, and he let one of his hands come down to rest on Brendon's exposed chest. Brendon wanted to shove him off, but making Ryan mad wasn't a good idea.

Ryan slid his fingers down Brendon's chest, all the way to where it was covered by the blanket. Then he began to slide the blanket down.

"They aren't looking for you anymore, you know." Ryan mumbled.

Brendon didn't respond.

"Your boyfriend, and all. They gave up. Police told him you probably left with me willingly. So he doesn't care anymore."

Brendon shook his head.

"It's true, babe." Ryan said, leaning down closer to Brendon's face. "But it's okay. You have me now."

Then Ryan pulled the blanket all the way off, staring down at Brendon's naked body. He didn't move, he only looked. His eyes trailed down Brendon's body, and he smiled. "Don't move." He said.

He stood up from the bed and left the room for only a few seconds, but he soon returned. Brendon didn't look at him. But he wanted to cry when he heard the shutter sound of a camera.

He looked up then, to see Ryan holding an expensive looking camera in his hands, taking pictures of Brendon. It was humiliating and degrading, and Brendon wanted nothing more than to pull the blankets back over himself, but he didn't. He sat still.

"Flip over." Ryan said.

No. Brendon ignored the request.

"Brendon." Ryan said, moving closer. "Flip. Over."

Brendon's eyes filled up with tears, but he did as he was told. He flipped over onto his stomach, his ass on display for the camera as Ryan stood above him, and he could practically hear Ryan's smirk.

"Hands and knees, babe." Ryan said.

Brendon held back a sob, and did as he was told. He lifted himself onto his hands and knees. Then he felt a hand between his shoulder blades, pushing down.

"Put your face into the mattress." Ryan whispered. Brendon did, his ass sticking up as Ryan snapped more pictures. He cried, the sounds muffled by the bed.

He heard Ryan set the camera down on the floor. Then he felt Ryan's hand on the small of his back, heard Ryan unzip his pants and pull them off, felt Ryan climb up onto the bed behind him.

Ryan reached around Brendon's body and wrapped his hand around the shorter man's dick. Brendon shook his head.

Ryan began to stroke him slowly, holding his hips against the shorter boy's ass as he tried to get Brendon hard for him.

"Come on, babe." Ryan mumbled. "You want this."

It took several minutes, but Brendon's body soon began to respond in the way Ryan wanted.

"Ryan, no. Please." Brendon begged, turning to face Ryan. "Please no."

"But babe, I feel you getting hard." Ryan purred. "I know you want this."

Brendon shook his head, burying his face in the blanket and crying. This was worse than anything Ryan had done yet. His body was acting on its own accord, against what he wanted. It was the ultimate power play; Ryan was in control, not him.

When Brendon was fully hard, Ryan used spit as lube and pushed in harshly. Brendon cried out, into the mattress.

Ryan continued stroking Brendon as he began to thrust shallowly, and pleasure shot through Brendon's body despite his mind willing it to go away. Ryan picked up the pace, and Brendon could feel himself getting close. He wanted to throw up.

When he finally came, he sobbed through it, his hands balled in fists as Ryan kept going, until he also finished inside Brendon. Then Ryan laughed a little, climbing off of the bed.

"I knew you wanted this." He whispered to Brnedon. "You liked it."

Brendon shook his head, crying and rolling over, pulling the blankets over himself as Ryan left him. As soon as Ryan was out of the room, Brendon ran into the bathroom and bent over the toilet, vomiting up what little food he had eaten and still wretching into the toilet after there was nothing left.

He turned on the shower, as hot as he could get it, and sat on the floor, letting the hot water pound down on him, heating up his skin until it was red. He stayed there, crying, until the water turned cold. Then he stood up and walked back to the bedroom, climbing into the bed again and crying into the pillows.