A Drowned Whelp

Chapter 9

"Hill, time to get up," Coen said loudly, shaking Hill's shoulder roughly. "Phase one of your adoption is underway," he said almost cheerfully. 

"Piss off. I was dreaming of being far from your ugly mug," Hill grumbled, hitting Coen's hand away and burying deeper into the pillows. His sleep-fogged mind not really comprehending words at that moment, instead of trying to get more rest. His body ached. His shoulders especially felt tight and he just wanted to stay in a comfortable bed. It was so much nicer than the cots he slept in while on service.  

"Liar. You already told me you think I'm good looking," Coen chuckled. Hill groaned again as Coen straddled him and began running his hands up Hill's sides, pushing his t-shirt up revealing his back. His hands actually felt pretty nice, Coen's fingers dug into his shoulders and into his muscles. Hill's grumbled but didn't fight, drifting in fog as Coen rubbed over his him. "Well, if you want to stay here, I can think of some fun things we could get up to," Coen purred into Hill's ear, grinding into his arse. Hill growled, and reached up to bat Coen's shoulder. Coen chuckled and caught his wrist, pinning it down before pressing a kiss to the back of Hill's ear.

"I'll get up, I'll get up," Hill complained.  

Coen chuckled before getting off him and slapping Hill's arse. "Come on, it's time to get your stinky ass tattooed," Coen said.

"I got enough already," Hill muttered, as a hand trailed up his back, following a dragon tattoo as it spiralled down. He forced himself to shift up on his elbows and yawned widely, pushing his shoulder's back to click them. He fell back down to the bed and grumbled again, fingers digging into the pillow he was using. 

"Well, now its time for one more. Shift already," Coen complained. 

Hill turned over and flipped Coen off, yawning again as he looked over at the window. It was dark out. He could smell cigarette smoke and hear a rumble of voices. "What time is it?" he asked, idly wondering if he had lost another day or only been asleep a short time. 

"About ten? Ma said to let you sleep as long as possible but Kai wants this done tonight," Coen shrugged, finally giving up and just yanked Hill out of the bed. "And now," he added. 

"I get it," Hill rolled his eyes, pushing back slightly but going where Coen was pulling him. The chains around his legs were unlocked and Coen gave him some trainers to put on. Rather quickly, he was pushed into the corridors of the house and guided through.  Coen's hands on his shoulders, steering him ad they went. Acting as both guide and guard dog as he kept the grunts from coming close.

There was no shortage of glares as they moved. The more loyal of the men not impressed with Hill's continuing pain-free existence. Hill knew in his blood they wanted retribution. A few looked almost gleeful. They were all faces Hill recognised as ones more in the know than the average grunt. The look in their eyes was almost sadistically so. Hill shivered. 

He was led by a very busy kitchen, through the backdoor and into the courtyard behind the restaurant. Hill tensed as he entered, the courtyard not a good place to be. Only Coen was quick to push him few, yelling a few greeting at people as he did so. Suddenly he was at a door, where a grunt he didn't know was opening it up for them. Coen fist bumped the man as they passed. They passed through a curtain and Hill found himself in a tattoo parlour that was surprisingly clean.