Slash, non-con/dub-con
“Well, well, well, if this isn't my old buddy...”
Billy's remark took Moist away from his phone and coffee. He looked at his roommate, puzzled by an odd tenderness in Billy's words, a cadence clearly missing from his voice in the last five years since that... well, that day when Death Ray misfired. Any warmth felt somewhat out of character for red-coated Dr. Horrible, the most feared super villain of the E.L.E. in recent history. But one look at his friend turned these warm notes on their heads (did notes even have heads, thought Moist for a second), as Billy was sitting on a couch with his laptop, lazily dressed in a t-shirt and faded sweatpants, yet even without his formal villain getup managed to look more sinister than ever. He was smirking at some news website, his eyes like cold glistening shards of ice, hands clutching the laptop, so what sounded at first like genuine joy now struck Moist as borderline psychotic.
Those borders were probably crossed long ago, though, thought Moist.
“What is it?” said Moist.
“Captain Motherfucking Hammer, my friend,” replied Billy, still not taking his eyes off the screen. “The city issued an official press release stating Captain is coming back to his duties as our savior. What a perfect timing, don't you think?”
“So he's, what, out of therapy?”
“It appears so. Hammer's back and supposedly ready for action. Didn't lose all the weight he gained in last years, though. But we have to admit, he doesn't look like a bloated walrus anymore, just like a regular one.”
The grainy surveillance photo taken around eighteen months ago served as a new dartboard in their apartment. Captain was caught on camera sneaking into grocery store, baseball cap and sunglasses not really concealing the identity of who was once the city's most praised protector. This black and white still captured Hammer stupidly looking up directly at camera, unmistakable behind big shades, but hardly his former hunky self. Captain was huge, not morbidly enough obese, if you asked Billy, but still a pile of chins atop one clumsy, slow, sad memory of former buff self.
“The press release has his old publicity shot attached to it,” chuckled Moist, browsing the news on his phone. “Tabloids are already making fun of him, someone from E.L.E. leaked Cap's actual pics.”
“Well, someone must have glued the guy to the treadmill after all, there are photos from a press conference, and I hate to say it, but you can almost see Captain Hammer somewhere inside the fat suit he's become. Oh, what wonders science performs.”
“It's not much of a science to gag him and weld the fridge, really.”
“I can sooo see the mayor giving this order! 'Gag him and weld his fridge until our city gets back the hero it deserves!' Captain Fat Douche to the rescue!” laughed Billy a little too heartily, sending shivers down Moist's spine.
Moist knew this was what made his roommate such an unstoppable villain, but he couldn't help but wish Billy had a therapy session every once in a while, or at the very least talked to him about anything besides his nefarious plans. Being aspiring villains used to be fun, but not since Billy swapped his white lab coat for a red one. Although, come to think of it, now Billy finally changed the subject, and it felt even creepier, so maybe he was better off brooding and not sharing thoughts with his friend. As much as Moist wanted to help Billy, he was also scared of what may lurk beneath this recent supervillain persona: supervillains were fine, but emotionally twisted, traumatized nerds underneath those could be too much for Moist to handle. He was not a therapist, just a guy who makes things soggy and happens to share an apartment with the world's most renowned evil doctor, after all.
Furthermore, one broken hearted nerd supervillain AND one wrecked back-from-the-therapist's-couch jock vigilante was most definitely more than Moist has ever signed up for.
“So, where is my webcam?” said Billy, breaking Moist's train of thought.
“In 2009, I guess. Because, you know, iPhone?”
“Look who's snarky. Fine, to hell with nostalgia, I'll record a welcome back video with my phone, just need to somehow not make it look like Instagram selfie. Or do I post that short looped video on Vine? Nah, that's just ridiculous. Oh, I'm so inviting Captain to tonight's operation. I have just the welcoming gift for him.”
Moist looked at what Billy nodded at and saw a ball full of purple liquid casually laying on a coffee table. And for the first time in years he suddenly heard Billy utter his best maniacal laugh.
* * *
Once great at deceiving himself and averting his eyes from inconvenient truths, now Captain Hammer could not fool himself into thinking he'd look good on his motorcycle or, moreover, in the Hamjet. He wasn't even sure the Hamjet was still able to fly with him on board, but was too ashamed to check. He lost weight all right, but self-loathing, uncertainty and that constant dash of hunger he gained in previous five years were not that easy to leave behind, and, most importantly, so was fear. That girl, who was hit by shards of Death Ray, it was tragic and all, but what kept Captain's therapist busy was the fact that on that day his patient felt vulnerable for the first time – and that one time was, apparently, enough to break the seemingly solid shell around Captain Hammer's insecurities.
Well, at least that was what Captain kept saying at his sessions.
So Captain was driving his SUV, which surely fit his stature the most these days, reviewing the details in Dr. Horrible's latest blog entry.
“...and so, Captain, I'll be waiting for you at the charity auction, and be sure I'll come prepared,” said Dr. Horrible once again as the clip played back on the loop. “Mwa-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!”
Hammer grinned, getting his villain-fighting groove back, or at least trying to tell himself that, and tried to remember those days when he was on top of the crime-fighting game. That felt like another life now, hidden behind years of fear and self-loathing, indulging himself in comfort food to quiet his anxieties, gaining weight and loathing himself even more. At first he thought he'd take a short break from heroics, but than the break suddenly spanned years, when Captain Hammer became just another unemployed guy next door. He was living off the rewards received during his vigilante career, which sufficed for his now more than modest lifestyle, only big expense being the occasional therapy session. At times he had the consulting gig for a bank or a gallery, but slowly the bar fell lower to the level of mall security – well, that payed the bills, anyway.
The bedroom Captain was always so proud of turned lonely, only seeing an occasional groupie hookup every once in a while, and even those were becoming rare and somewhat uninspired. Sturdy bed, custom-made for superpowered ladies man, now stood empty, as its owner mostly slept on the couch, lulled to sleep by Netflix marathon, in his oversized t-shirt and boxers, and not naked on red silk sheets under blinding white faux fur blanket. One sleepless night he took off his underwear and crawled under the soft welcoming furs, only to feel grossly out of place and get back to the couch. The mirror ball stopped spinning long ago, handcuffs dangled idly from the headboard, and the drawer with toys, lubes and harnesses stood undisturbed – but tissues were resupplied regularly, since when Netflix failed to soothe Captain, he had to seek help from Redtube.
“Oh, Captain, my Captain...” began Dr. Horrible again, more sarcastic than ever.
Okay, he was the Captain, and he was going back no matter what. He parked his car next to the mansion that held an auction and went in, hastily suppressing his shame of being the only fat guy in a t-shirt among these people in tailored tuxes and cocktail dresses and one fleeting thought that this slob of a man will be what meets Doctor Horrible for the first time in years. He wasn't fat anymore, come on, get over it. And what of Billy seeing him like this. That is, Doctor. Doctor Horrible. Oh, and here go the scared tuxes and dresses, running from bright flashes of light that engulfed the mansion. Right on time, then.
* * *
It happened a few months after the Death Ray incident.
Captain was at his therapist's office, which he has been visiting for quite some time now without much effect. He was whining about these newly found ideas of pain and defeat, fresh concepts introduced to him by one Doctor, the man who was, apparently, haunting Captain's dreams – nightmares, Captain corrected himself hastily. This slip might have caught therapist's attention, but at this point he had already learned to filter out Captain's constant complaints, and had written “Whiny bitch” in his pad, cursing himself for being so unprofessional, but unable to come up with a better diagnosis for the guy who was all talk and no progress.
Hammer's rant went on and on, carefully positioning Captain at the center of the Universe, the first person to ever experience humiliation and either barely able to grasp such a bizarre idea or really desperate to go through this experience once again. He closed his eyes visualizing the source of his unease, as doctor suggested, but it only brought back all the confusing feelings and made Hammer's ears burn red, so Captain repeated again his go-to story of Death Ray and defeat – but no response came.
Captain Hammer opened his eyes and froze in shock on the couch. His bespectacled old therapist laid frozen on the floor, grimace of disgust on his face, and in his armchair there was the person Captain has just hastily unvisualized – red lab coat, goggles, gloves and a glowing gun in his hand.
“So, you're feeling vulnerable, is that right?” said Dr. Horrible calmly with a faint smile on his face.
Captain was at a loss for words, eyes fixed at a blue spark ready to emit from Doctor Horrible's sleek new handgun.
“I hope you were not making any progress here, since I thought we could make your situation somewhat more sour today. You see, it came to me that there's one more line of defense I didn't breach, and as much as I'm repulsed by the idea, you'll have it so much worse, so, naturally, I can't resist. But enough monologues.”
Before Captain managed to utter a single squeak, Doctor pointed his gun at him and zapped Captain with a bright ray of energy. Captain Hammer was expecting his death at the moment, but what came was even scarier. His whole body went numb for a second, and then he felt all his limbs again, but wasn't able to move a muscle. He laid on the couch terrified, only slightly turning his head, barely able to move his lips – yet no sound came out – and able to close his eyes but too scared to do so.
“Don't worry, we're alone in the whole building,” said Doctor Horrible, sitting down next to paralyzed Captain. “We can keep it all between us. You like cherries, don't you?”
Doctor pulled a small bottle from his pocket and brought it to Captain's nose. Captain's wildest nightmares, the ones he woke up from both in cold sweat and sticky jizz, were coming to life. Now they smelled of fake cherries and Doctor Horrible's aftershave, his nemesis leaning closer to have a better look at Hammer's petrified grimace. He felt Doctor's heavy rubber glove on his neck, squeezing a little, then Doctor gave him a broad smile, loosened his grip and turned Captain's face directly at himself. Doctor looked him in the eyes and leaned even closer, so suddenly Captain felt his foe's lips on his own. The touch was oddly careful and tender, and Doctor's lips felt soft and gentle against Captain's. One gloved hand held Captain's head in place, while the other slowly stroked his body, and what Captain only heard was the thumping of his racing heart.
“Oh please, don't get into it, really,” said Doctor, finally breaking the kiss.
Captain opened his eyes, only then realizing he has closed them when Doctor kissed him.
“I mean, I planned this more as a mind fuck, than actual, you know, fuck – don't you worry, though, you're getting your butt stuffed anyway – and you, what, wanted this all along? To be fair, it's hard to read people, even as dumb as you are, when they can only move their eyes, but seriously, you liked me kissing you. Who even makes couches so small, gosh,” said Doctor, laying down next to Captain, one leg thrown over him and one arm resting on Hammer's chest. He was speaking directly in Captain's ear now. “But come to think of it, maybe you'll just enjoy this more than you've ever thought you would, and that will send you down a spiral of self-doubt! That would be fun, right? One blink for yes.”
Captain blinked twice.
“That's denial talking,” whispered Doctor, his lips lightly brushing Captain's ear.
Unable to even flinch, Captain felt Doctor's glove sliding into his pants, slowly sneaking into his boxers and resting on his most prized possessions.
“Can you even get it up these days?” asked Doctor. “Don't bother blinking, I can feel you're loving this.”
In a moment Doctor got off the couch and pulled Captain Hammer's pants down. Wet glove slid between his legs, going further down, reaching for Captain's rear entrance, and in no time he felt a finger thrusting into his tightly clenched hole. It barely hurt the superhero, but the humiliating idea of him playing a fucking life-sized cherry-scented sex doll for his arch-enemy was too much for Captain to handle – and even less so was the anticipation building deep inside him. It seemed like Doctor knew his way with dolls, deliberate moves stretching Captain's hole, and now Doctor turned him on his side in one swift move, as cold sweat covered Captain's forehead.
“Oh, just so you know, I don't do it for any badges or the League. Think of it as a payback. Or a date, if you like,” said Doctor, unzipping his pants. “Time to nail the hammer.”
* * *
There wasn't much left of the mansion's lush interiors now. Doctor Horrible was giving Captain Hammer a really tough time, ray-guns blazing and balls of some weird purple goo flying around, but nothing a few well-timed dives and human shields couldn't help with. Captain was getting closer to his enemy, feeling better about himself with every instant, his bravado returning after years of absence, when one of the balls finally hit him. The purple goo spilled all over Captain Hammer, holding him in place stronger with every Captain's move. Hammer felt it burn like a whole lot of jellyfish when the goo touched his bare skin, and now the room around him was slowly spinning and getting brighter, flashes of day-glo surrounding him. Day-glo was not a good sign.
Captain Hammer fell on his knees unable to stand straight in the middle of spinning room, when he heard someone coming at him from behind, and in an instant Captain was put in a chokehold, tied by purple tentacles and unable to resist.
“Hello, chunky,” said Doctor's voice right above Captain's ear as a grip on his throat tightened. “I see you were going to march in victorious, saving the day and such, but oh well.” The room stopped spinning, but now Captain started shrinking against Doctor, who grew into a giant all of a sudden. “It's not how it works these days, you see. You don't march in unless I let you. And I don't let anyone do that.”
Doctor's voice was now a sound of thunder booming from the sky above tiny Captain.
“I wonder what nightmares you experience now. I just thought the toxins in this nice purple stuff will help me drive the point home, the point being you are my bitch now, Captain. Have been for a long time.”
Captain felt every word crawling under his skin, body growing weak and pants suddenly being too tight, heat rising inside of him and strands of purple wrapping around him even stronger, but still not as strong as Doctor's hands around his throat.
“Well, it was lovely to meet you again. You can hand all this stuff to the mayor, or whatever, I don't really need it. I just wanted to make sure you'd come to see me, Captain. Think of it as my way of taking you someplace fancy, okay. See you.”
Captain felt air coming through into his lungs, took a deep breath and gladly saw everything around him starting to turn its natural boring colors, his sticky skin not burning so badly anymore. Doctor's voice still echoed in his head, when he finally managed to get up and get out of mansion into the sea of flashing cameras, smiling at another day saved, but dizzy and barely there. He needed to go home, now, to the secret place where he was safe from outside world till this day.
* * *
Captain's place was even cheesier than Doctor imagined.
Doctor's been looking for Captain Hammer's hideout for quite some time with zero results. Captain might have let himself go from a hero to a slob, but he still knew how to keep his place private. But now a little help from Time Science Blood Cloud, who hacked a military satellite, let Doctor trace any specific radiation signatures, so the tiniest amount of thorium was a perfect ingredient for the purple goo. As Captain fled the scene covered in drying purple remnants, there was no place for him to go other than home, and the whole route from the wrecked mansion and right to Captain's shower was transmitted from the satellite to Doctor's phone.
“Good luck washing my goo off your hair,” mumbled Doctor, walking into the apartment, when Captain ran into the bathroom. “That didn't come out right.”
He was standing in a dimly lit living room, a messy place with clothes, magazines and a couple of empty takeout boxes scattered around. A nearly full bottle of vodka was sitting on a coffee table, and after a second of hesitation Doctor grabbed it and took a large swig. “Oh, now this is just cute,” said Doctor, noticing a tissue box on the floor. “Crying, or jerking off, or hopefully both.”
He listened closely to the sounds coming from the bathroom. Was that sobbing? He sure hoped it was.
“Man, I knew you had a bad taste, but this?”
Doctor walked around Captain's bedroom, a much cleaner place than his living room with a slight air of being abandoned. Red sheets, fur, candles and handcuffs, everything looked untouched for a long time.
“This is ridiculous. It's not a bedroom, it's a damn porn set, and not even a good one,” Doctor looked around and saw a tripod standing idly in a corner. “Well, naturally.”
A shadow crossed Doctor's mind, but before he could even realize what it was, he got distracted by the sounds coming from the bathroom. Steady noise of running water was now accompanied by what seemed like moans and heavy breathing. Doctor grinned and made himself comfortable in one of Captain's armchairs with his new friend, vodka. “So, crying, or jerking off?” In a minute moaning got louder, and it definitely didn't sound like Captain was sobbing in the shower.
“Billy!” Captain's voice was muffled, but there was no doubt he said Doctor's name.
“Huh.”
Doctor Horrible didn't expect Captain to take the title of Doctor's bitch so literally and with such enthusiasm. In a minute the bathroom door opened, and Captain entered the room in clouds of steam, a towel quickly wrapped around his thighs for lack of a waist at the moment. There wasn't even that much of a belly hanging on top of it, though, to Doctor's surprise.
“Isn't this a lovely view.”
Doctor Horrible chuckled at Captain's confused face as he was blinded by the phone's camera flash.
“Don't look so stunned, I didn't shoot you yet, Captain. Come take a sit, let's have a nice chat like civilized men, without neurotoxins or throwing cars at each other, what do you think?”
Captain walked slowly to the couch and took a seat, trying to not take his eyes off Doctor. The mixture of shame, anxiety and excruciating anticipation overwhelmed him as he sat in front of his nemesis, painfully aware of a damp towel barely covering only his crotch, exposed and most likely disgusting.
Doctor tried hard to keep a straight face and not ogle Captain's naked body, sad, ridiculous, yet oddly comforting in its softness. This guy really let himself go, and whatever torture he was put through to get back in shape didn't quite work, leaving just enough to please Doctor Horrible's desire to see his arch-enemy turn into a mockery of himself. The man could probably still throw a car at Doctor, only now it would come at a price of a heart attack and a ripped pair of pants. And still there was something more to the man sitting uncomfortably in front of Doctor, a hint at another life, when he was still Billy, a beaten up nerd with a dream and not an actual supervillain, which turned out way less fun. There was once a dream, a nemesis to destroy, a friend and a girl, however fleeting her presence was, and now with great power came a job, a friend who avoided him lately, a broken heart and not a single chance to overthrow the system – Doctor was now a part of it, a cog in the machine routinely balancing crime and justice. So, yeah, this was his past sitting in front of him, his pathetic, fat and scared wreck of a past he wasn't able to admit he missed.
Doctor Horrible suddenly realized he was sitting silent all this time, basking in shadenfreude and staring at Captain with misty eyes from the shadow.
“You know, I missed you.”
Fuck, did he just say it sincerely? It was meant to be menacing when he thought of breaking the silence, and also wasn't going to sound so slurred. Did he get drunk already?
“I mean, it would be so much more fun with you around, all fat and traumatized. It's curious how tables turn sometimes, don't you think?”
“Why are you here?”
“I said I miss you! Wanna drink?” Doctor offered a bottle to Captain. He stalled for a moment, then grabbed it and took a gulp. “Can't I just come to see my old buddy, to make sure he's still a wimpy douchebag with an overblown ego who can't take a punch, yet is so eager to give them? Maybe I just want to hang out and keep you company for awhile as you descend deeper into obesity and irrelevance? It's what friends do, come on.”
“I didn't know you were now everyone's darling superstar, Doctor”, said Captain, looking more confident now that he had a bottle of booze in his hand. “Oh wait, you're not. So, what were you saying about tables, again?”
“I'm not a fame whore that you once were, Captain. I'm fine alone.”
“And yet, here you are.”
“Don't fatter... ha... flatter yourself, Captain Hammer!” This exchange started to annoy Doctor.
“Don't fool yourself, Doctor.” Captain kept his voice calm, but his cheeks were blushing now and eyes sparkled more with every drink he took from the bottle. “The city loved me. Women loved me. A lot of men loved me, too, if Tumblr is any indication. But nobody ever liked you, Doctor. Not even those girls who drew porn with me and supervillains, they didn't care about you either, and they drew me doing it with everyone. And I mean, everyone. You barely registered then, and you barely register now.”
“You know shit about me, Captain Tightpants. Captain No Pants. Ha.”
“I know enough, Doctor. You're an average nerd a dime a dozen who can't speak to girls and invents stuff that doesn't work, but you're hellbent on turning yourself into a supervillain, only having seen supervillains in Saturday morning cartoons, and you can't get over a girl who slept with me and not you.”
Doctor froze in his place, clenching fists and breathing heavily, squinting at Captain who only seemed more satisfied with every word that got under Doctor's skin. Was this fucker asking for a fight? Doctor's obvious lack of strength and muscles didn't bother him now thanks to alcohol, and Captain Hammer's face looked more and more punchable.
“Oh, I almost forgot!” chuckled Captain. “Me and your girlfriend, we made a movie that night. Well, she wasn't aware of it, but she gave a delightful performance on top of me. Wanna hear her scream my name along God's? It's short... I mean... Not that I...”
Doctor jumped from the armchair, face burning red, and aimed a fist at Captain's mocking smile, only to have it caught in his enemy's large hand and find himself placed in one move flat on a couch, a t-shirt falling from its back on Doctor's face to complete this humiliating manoeuvre. Captain's hand on his chest held him firmly in place, legs thrown over Hammer's. His other hand rested on Doc's inner thigh, and a t-shirt smelled of stale sweat and something nasty Doctor couldn't quite figure out, yet now he didn't want to make any other move or leave this degrading position. Just a couple hours before he held his nemesis in his hands, scared shitless and tripping balls on neurotoxins, and now what? The tables did indeed turn in mysterious ways.
“You know what?” said Doctor from under a t-shirt, voice suddenly shaking. “I think you've really worked hard to earn these last five years, and your efforts finally paid off handsomely. You did so much to achieve all this. Your morbid obesity, loneliness, your pathetic attempts to boost your ego at my expense, and nobody but a bunch of homemade sex tapes to keep you company. You deserve all this, Captain Jerk-Off, congratulations.”
“Didn't you just describe yourself, Doc? Only, like, fat? Oh, and this stings so badly coming from a loser homicidal psychopath, a joke even for his fellow villains, a nobody who has nobody, a sloppy drunk and, last but not least, a guy who raped me to make a point.”
“And you enjoyed every minute of it!”
Doctor felt Captain moving on the couch, placing himself on top of him. He didn't care if Hammer was going to smother him or beat into a bloody mess. Who gives a fuck anyway.
“Just like you seem to enjoy having my old cum-drenched t-shirt all over your face.”
Doctor Horrible hastily threw it on the floor and saw Captain's face a few inches above his.
“Get off me.”
“No way.”
“The hell do you want? Revenge? Break my neck and don't waste my time.”
“No. It's you I want, little buddy. All to myself. I don't like sharing, you see. Couldn't let you settle with that girl that time. Ever wondered why no other superhero bothered to fight you? I always told them you're mine. I didn't even realize this until some time ago. I blame my therapist, really. It was easier just getting my hands on you without understanding that I want to get my hands on you. And your hands on my hammer.” Captain leaned closer and whispered into Doctor Horrible's ear. “And yes, Billy, I love cherries.”
“There's no Billy anymore.”
“Well, it's worth taking a look, maybe you're just hiding him somewhere.”
Doctor laid there petrified and barely able to grasp what's going on. Proverbial tables turned, spun a little, hit him on the head and flew away in a flock, leaving him seriously confused. As tables gracefully soared into the setting sun, Captain was undoing the buttons on his lab coat.
“How sweet,” smiled Captain, as he revealed a well-worn t-shirt with a yellow hammer logo under Doctor's red coat.
“Laundry day,” grumbled Doctor Horrible.
Captain's large hand slipped under Doctor's t-shirt.
“Missing a human touch for some time now, are we?”
“I hate you. You're an asshole,” said Doctor trying to suppress his whole body shivering.
“Then use me like one. They say it's better the second time.”
* * *
Nothing made any sense anymore, as Doctor laid on a couch, suddenly feeling his lips part, welcoming Captain's kiss, and his tongue eagerly entwine with the Captain's. Hammer's tongue was very deliberate in entering Doctor's mouth, rough and hungry, and his hand was exploring Doctor's body under that damn t-shirt, generously stroking his skin, caressing his chest and playing with nipples. Doctor was pretty sure his erection has never felt so painful, ready to release any moment.
As Captain broke the kiss, Doctor instinctively raised his head, following the other man's mouth, but had a finger seal his lips.
“We shall get back to that in a moment, Doc. Now, there's other business to attend to.”
Captain started hastily pulling off Doctor's clothes, t-shirt and lab coat the first to go, then he pulled off his boots and unzipped his pants. Horrible's tightie whities barely managed to hold his hard-on in place, and Doctor made a loud gasp as Captain laid his hand on a bulge, slowly rubbing it. One stronger stroke, and he pulled down Doctor's underwear, revealing his cock leaking onto the stomach.
“Man, a nice mess you got here,” said Captain, running his fingers up and down Horrible's shaft, balls and pubes damp with pre-cum. “Let's take a peek at the head, now shall we.”
Captain's fingers gently held Doctor's cock and slowly pulled back his uncut foreskin. This move was too much for Doctor to handle, as he felt his abs clench, balls tighten and a thick spurt of semen rush from his penis, splattering all over his body. The first one was followed by a few more, less strong but still making a puddle of hot jizz on his stomach. He didn't even manage a scream and just breathed heavily, his chest heaving and mouth agape, face burning red with shame and arousal. He was afraid to open his eyes.
“Damn, that was quick. And hot,” said Captain's voice.
Doctor looked at Captain with one eye. Hammer was kneeling between his legs on the couch, smoldering look on his face, and towel gone, revealing his throbbing erection.
“Go on, Captain, I know you want to,” said Doctor, his voice hoarse from panting. He stretched on the couch, placing his arms behind his head, and looked Captain directly in the eye.
Captain put his left hand behind him and arched forward as he stuck a thumb in his ass, thrusting hard into his clenched fist. He kept stroking his dick and pushing fingers deeper inside to rub a prostate. Eyes fixed on Doctor's blushing face, he felt the approaching orgasm in his whole body, and his movements lost their rhythm, harder strokes on his penis bringing him sooner release. Captain's whole body tightened and with a long moan he spilled his cum on Doctor's stomach. Breathing loudly, he collapsed on top of him, spreading sticky puddle of semen all over their bodies.
Everything that just happened seemed completely wrong to Doctor, yet he couldn't help but feel satisfied and, of all things, relaxed and secure, lying here covered in cum under the weight of his supposedly still arch-nemesis. There was a dash of self-deprecation somewhere below all this, but Doctor was genuinely surprised how simply good it felt right now. His sober and drunk self suddenly changed their parts, and now his drunk self, who felt used, spent and humiliated, was giving up to the sober part of his brain, however small, telling him to go for it and have some messy fun. He'll kill the guy later, if there's a problem, no big deal.
Captain silently sat up and grabbed his old t-shirt from the floor. He carefully wiped Doctor's body clean with it and then cleaned his chest and stomach as well. He dropped it back on a floor and stood up. He then took Doctor in his arms and, still silent, carried him to the bedroom. Doctor felt Captain's heart beating rapidly and chest heaving with heavy breathing. In a moment they were both in a spacious Captain's bed, under his ridiculous fur blanket, warm and quiet. The blanket felt really nice, though, thought Doctor.
Captain Hammer turned to Doctor and wrapped him in his arms, smiling.
“Keep in mind, I can still break all you limbs and crush your windpipe in a matter of seconds.”
“I've never heard a sweeter thing.”
“Shut up and let me finish. But you should not be afraid of anyone if you're still mine. Anyone looks at you funny, I'll rip their heads off. You're my nemesis, and nobody messes with my pronounced enemies. Especially little cute ones. As long as they don't leave me.”
“Are you saying we should give up our lives of crime and crime-fighting and engage in an abusive relationship?”
“Pretty much. Is there a problem?”
“None at all. Have you always been so cuddly? I wasted years not knowing it,” Doctor moved closer, holding tight onto Captain's huge body, one leg wrapped around his thigh. “Do you mind if I fuck you later, it's so warm here I'm all sleepy. And also please don't turn it into a trap and kill me while I sleep, okay?”
“Okay. I won't kill you, and you can fuck the hell out of me later.”
“Pinky promise?”
“Don't be ridiculous, dude.”
“Oh, I need to ask one thing. Like, really badly. Your fans drew porn with you and every supervillain ever, right? So... Bad Horse?”
Now Doctor's persona has finally faded away, and it was Billy breathing into Captain's neck. He was smiling at the idea of Captain having his own army of porn-drawing fans, not grinning in an evil fashion, but just being genuinely amused by the fact.
“You have no idea.”
Captain smiled back at Billy.
“Well, well, well, if this isn't my old buddy...”
Billy's remark took Moist away from his phone and coffee. He looked at his roommate, puzzled by an odd tenderness in Billy's words, a cadence clearly missing from his voice in the last five years since that... well, that day when Death Ray misfired. Any warmth felt somewhat out of character for red-coated Dr. Horrible, the most feared super villain of the E.L.E. in recent history. But one look at his friend turned these warm notes on their heads (did notes even have heads, thought Moist for a second), as Billy was sitting on a couch with his laptop, lazily dressed in a t-shirt and faded sweatpants, yet even without his formal villain getup managed to look more sinister than ever. He was smirking at some news website, his eyes like cold glistening shards of ice, hands clutching the laptop, so what sounded at first like genuine joy now struck Moist as borderline psychotic.
Those borders were probably crossed long ago, though, thought Moist.
“What is it?” said Moist.
“Captain Motherfucking Hammer, my friend,” replied Billy, still not taking his eyes off the screen. “The city issued an official press release stating Captain is coming back to his duties as our savior. What a perfect timing, don't you think?”
“So he's, what, out of therapy?”
“It appears so. Hammer's back and supposedly ready for action. Didn't lose all the weight he gained in last years, though. But we have to admit, he doesn't look like a bloated walrus anymore, just like a regular one.”
The grainy surveillance photo taken around eighteen months ago served as a new dartboard in their apartment. Captain was caught on camera sneaking into grocery store, baseball cap and sunglasses not really concealing the identity of who was once the city's most praised protector. This black and white still captured Hammer stupidly looking up directly at camera, unmistakable behind big shades, but hardly his former hunky self. Captain was huge, not morbidly enough obese, if you asked Billy, but still a pile of chins atop one clumsy, slow, sad memory of former buff self.
“The press release has his old publicity shot attached to it,” chuckled Moist, browsing the news on his phone. “Tabloids are already making fun of him, someone from E.L.E. leaked Cap's actual pics.”
“Well, someone must have glued the guy to the treadmill after all, there are photos from a press conference, and I hate to say it, but you can almost see Captain Hammer somewhere inside the fat suit he's become. Oh, what wonders science performs.”
“It's not much of a science to gag him and weld the fridge, really.”
“I can sooo see the mayor giving this order! 'Gag him and weld his fridge until our city gets back the hero it deserves!' Captain Fat Douche to the rescue!” laughed Billy a little too heartily, sending shivers down Moist's spine.
Moist knew this was what made his roommate such an unstoppable villain, but he couldn't help but wish Billy had a therapy session every once in a while, or at the very least talked to him about anything besides his nefarious plans. Being aspiring villains used to be fun, but not since Billy swapped his white lab coat for a red one. Although, come to think of it, now Billy finally changed the subject, and it felt even creepier, so maybe he was better off brooding and not sharing thoughts with his friend. As much as Moist wanted to help Billy, he was also scared of what may lurk beneath this recent supervillain persona: supervillains were fine, but emotionally twisted, traumatized nerds underneath those could be too much for Moist to handle. He was not a therapist, just a guy who makes things soggy and happens to share an apartment with the world's most renowned evil doctor, after all.
Furthermore, one broken hearted nerd supervillain AND one wrecked back-from-the-therapist's-couch jock vigilante was most definitely more than Moist has ever signed up for.
“So, where is my webcam?” said Billy, breaking Moist's train of thought.
“In 2009, I guess. Because, you know, iPhone?”
“Look who's snarky. Fine, to hell with nostalgia, I'll record a welcome back video with my phone, just need to somehow not make it look like Instagram selfie. Or do I post that short looped video on Vine? Nah, that's just ridiculous. Oh, I'm so inviting Captain to tonight's operation. I have just the welcoming gift for him.”
Moist looked at what Billy nodded at and saw a ball full of purple liquid casually laying on a coffee table. And for the first time in years he suddenly heard Billy utter his best maniacal laugh.
* * *
Once great at deceiving himself and averting his eyes from inconvenient truths, now Captain Hammer could not fool himself into thinking he'd look good on his motorcycle or, moreover, in the Hamjet. He wasn't even sure the Hamjet was still able to fly with him on board, but was too ashamed to check. He lost weight all right, but self-loathing, uncertainty and that constant dash of hunger he gained in previous five years were not that easy to leave behind, and, most importantly, so was fear. That girl, who was hit by shards of Death Ray, it was tragic and all, but what kept Captain's therapist busy was the fact that on that day his patient felt vulnerable for the first time – and that one time was, apparently, enough to break the seemingly solid shell around Captain Hammer's insecurities.
Well, at least that was what Captain kept saying at his sessions.
So Captain was driving his SUV, which surely fit his stature the most these days, reviewing the details in Dr. Horrible's latest blog entry.
“...and so, Captain, I'll be waiting for you at the charity auction, and be sure I'll come prepared,” said Dr. Horrible once again as the clip played back on the loop. “Mwa-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!”
Hammer grinned, getting his villain-fighting groove back, or at least trying to tell himself that, and tried to remember those days when he was on top of the crime-fighting game. That felt like another life now, hidden behind years of fear and self-loathing, indulging himself in comfort food to quiet his anxieties, gaining weight and loathing himself even more. At first he thought he'd take a short break from heroics, but than the break suddenly spanned years, when Captain Hammer became just another unemployed guy next door. He was living off the rewards received during his vigilante career, which sufficed for his now more than modest lifestyle, only big expense being the occasional therapy session. At times he had the consulting gig for a bank or a gallery, but slowly the bar fell lower to the level of mall security – well, that payed the bills, anyway.
The bedroom Captain was always so proud of turned lonely, only seeing an occasional groupie hookup every once in a while, and even those were becoming rare and somewhat uninspired. Sturdy bed, custom-made for superpowered ladies man, now stood empty, as its owner mostly slept on the couch, lulled to sleep by Netflix marathon, in his oversized t-shirt and boxers, and not naked on red silk sheets under blinding white faux fur blanket. One sleepless night he took off his underwear and crawled under the soft welcoming furs, only to feel grossly out of place and get back to the couch. The mirror ball stopped spinning long ago, handcuffs dangled idly from the headboard, and the drawer with toys, lubes and harnesses stood undisturbed – but tissues were resupplied regularly, since when Netflix failed to soothe Captain, he had to seek help from Redtube.
“Oh, Captain, my Captain...” began Dr. Horrible again, more sarcastic than ever.
Okay, he was the Captain, and he was going back no matter what. He parked his car next to the mansion that held an auction and went in, hastily suppressing his shame of being the only fat guy in a t-shirt among these people in tailored tuxes and cocktail dresses and one fleeting thought that this slob of a man will be what meets Doctor Horrible for the first time in years. He wasn't fat anymore, come on, get over it. And what of Billy seeing him like this. That is, Doctor. Doctor Horrible. Oh, and here go the scared tuxes and dresses, running from bright flashes of light that engulfed the mansion. Right on time, then.
* * *
It happened a few months after the Death Ray incident.
Captain was at his therapist's office, which he has been visiting for quite some time now without much effect. He was whining about these newly found ideas of pain and defeat, fresh concepts introduced to him by one Doctor, the man who was, apparently, haunting Captain's dreams – nightmares, Captain corrected himself hastily. This slip might have caught therapist's attention, but at this point he had already learned to filter out Captain's constant complaints, and had written “Whiny bitch” in his pad, cursing himself for being so unprofessional, but unable to come up with a better diagnosis for the guy who was all talk and no progress.
Hammer's rant went on and on, carefully positioning Captain at the center of the Universe, the first person to ever experience humiliation and either barely able to grasp such a bizarre idea or really desperate to go through this experience once again. He closed his eyes visualizing the source of his unease, as doctor suggested, but it only brought back all the confusing feelings and made Hammer's ears burn red, so Captain repeated again his go-to story of Death Ray and defeat – but no response came.
Captain Hammer opened his eyes and froze in shock on the couch. His bespectacled old therapist laid frozen on the floor, grimace of disgust on his face, and in his armchair there was the person Captain has just hastily unvisualized – red lab coat, goggles, gloves and a glowing gun in his hand.
“So, you're feeling vulnerable, is that right?” said Dr. Horrible calmly with a faint smile on his face.
Captain was at a loss for words, eyes fixed at a blue spark ready to emit from Doctor Horrible's sleek new handgun.
“I hope you were not making any progress here, since I thought we could make your situation somewhat more sour today. You see, it came to me that there's one more line of defense I didn't breach, and as much as I'm repulsed by the idea, you'll have it so much worse, so, naturally, I can't resist. But enough monologues.”
Before Captain managed to utter a single squeak, Doctor pointed his gun at him and zapped Captain with a bright ray of energy. Captain Hammer was expecting his death at the moment, but what came was even scarier. His whole body went numb for a second, and then he felt all his limbs again, but wasn't able to move a muscle. He laid on the couch terrified, only slightly turning his head, barely able to move his lips – yet no sound came out – and able to close his eyes but too scared to do so.
“Don't worry, we're alone in the whole building,” said Doctor Horrible, sitting down next to paralyzed Captain. “We can keep it all between us. You like cherries, don't you?”
Doctor pulled a small bottle from his pocket and brought it to Captain's nose. Captain's wildest nightmares, the ones he woke up from both in cold sweat and sticky jizz, were coming to life. Now they smelled of fake cherries and Doctor Horrible's aftershave, his nemesis leaning closer to have a better look at Hammer's petrified grimace. He felt Doctor's heavy rubber glove on his neck, squeezing a little, then Doctor gave him a broad smile, loosened his grip and turned Captain's face directly at himself. Doctor looked him in the eyes and leaned even closer, so suddenly Captain felt his foe's lips on his own. The touch was oddly careful and tender, and Doctor's lips felt soft and gentle against Captain's. One gloved hand held Captain's head in place, while the other slowly stroked his body, and what Captain only heard was the thumping of his racing heart.
“Oh please, don't get into it, really,” said Doctor, finally breaking the kiss.
Captain opened his eyes, only then realizing he has closed them when Doctor kissed him.
“I mean, I planned this more as a mind fuck, than actual, you know, fuck – don't you worry, though, you're getting your butt stuffed anyway – and you, what, wanted this all along? To be fair, it's hard to read people, even as dumb as you are, when they can only move their eyes, but seriously, you liked me kissing you. Who even makes couches so small, gosh,” said Doctor, laying down next to Captain, one leg thrown over him and one arm resting on Hammer's chest. He was speaking directly in Captain's ear now. “But come to think of it, maybe you'll just enjoy this more than you've ever thought you would, and that will send you down a spiral of self-doubt! That would be fun, right? One blink for yes.”
Captain blinked twice.
“That's denial talking,” whispered Doctor, his lips lightly brushing Captain's ear.
Unable to even flinch, Captain felt Doctor's glove sliding into his pants, slowly sneaking into his boxers and resting on his most prized possessions.
“Can you even get it up these days?” asked Doctor. “Don't bother blinking, I can feel you're loving this.”
In a moment Doctor got off the couch and pulled Captain Hammer's pants down. Wet glove slid between his legs, going further down, reaching for Captain's rear entrance, and in no time he felt a finger thrusting into his tightly clenched hole. It barely hurt the superhero, but the humiliating idea of him playing a fucking life-sized cherry-scented sex doll for his arch-enemy was too much for Captain to handle – and even less so was the anticipation building deep inside him. It seemed like Doctor knew his way with dolls, deliberate moves stretching Captain's hole, and now Doctor turned him on his side in one swift move, as cold sweat covered Captain's forehead.
“Oh, just so you know, I don't do it for any badges or the League. Think of it as a payback. Or a date, if you like,” said Doctor, unzipping his pants. “Time to nail the hammer.”
* * *
There wasn't much left of the mansion's lush interiors now. Doctor Horrible was giving Captain Hammer a really tough time, ray-guns blazing and balls of some weird purple goo flying around, but nothing a few well-timed dives and human shields couldn't help with. Captain was getting closer to his enemy, feeling better about himself with every instant, his bravado returning after years of absence, when one of the balls finally hit him. The purple goo spilled all over Captain Hammer, holding him in place stronger with every Captain's move. Hammer felt it burn like a whole lot of jellyfish when the goo touched his bare skin, and now the room around him was slowly spinning and getting brighter, flashes of day-glo surrounding him. Day-glo was not a good sign.
Captain Hammer fell on his knees unable to stand straight in the middle of spinning room, when he heard someone coming at him from behind, and in an instant Captain was put in a chokehold, tied by purple tentacles and unable to resist.
“Hello, chunky,” said Doctor's voice right above Captain's ear as a grip on his throat tightened. “I see you were going to march in victorious, saving the day and such, but oh well.” The room stopped spinning, but now Captain started shrinking against Doctor, who grew into a giant all of a sudden. “It's not how it works these days, you see. You don't march in unless I let you. And I don't let anyone do that.”
Doctor's voice was now a sound of thunder booming from the sky above tiny Captain.
“I wonder what nightmares you experience now. I just thought the toxins in this nice purple stuff will help me drive the point home, the point being you are my bitch now, Captain. Have been for a long time.”
Captain felt every word crawling under his skin, body growing weak and pants suddenly being too tight, heat rising inside of him and strands of purple wrapping around him even stronger, but still not as strong as Doctor's hands around his throat.
“Well, it was lovely to meet you again. You can hand all this stuff to the mayor, or whatever, I don't really need it. I just wanted to make sure you'd come to see me, Captain. Think of it as my way of taking you someplace fancy, okay. See you.”
Captain felt air coming through into his lungs, took a deep breath and gladly saw everything around him starting to turn its natural boring colors, his sticky skin not burning so badly anymore. Doctor's voice still echoed in his head, when he finally managed to get up and get out of mansion into the sea of flashing cameras, smiling at another day saved, but dizzy and barely there. He needed to go home, now, to the secret place where he was safe from outside world till this day.
* * *
Captain's place was even cheesier than Doctor imagined.
Doctor's been looking for Captain Hammer's hideout for quite some time with zero results. Captain might have let himself go from a hero to a slob, but he still knew how to keep his place private. But now a little help from Time Science Blood Cloud, who hacked a military satellite, let Doctor trace any specific radiation signatures, so the tiniest amount of thorium was a perfect ingredient for the purple goo. As Captain fled the scene covered in drying purple remnants, there was no place for him to go other than home, and the whole route from the wrecked mansion and right to Captain's shower was transmitted from the satellite to Doctor's phone.
“Good luck washing my goo off your hair,” mumbled Doctor, walking into the apartment, when Captain ran into the bathroom. “That didn't come out right.”
He was standing in a dimly lit living room, a messy place with clothes, magazines and a couple of empty takeout boxes scattered around. A nearly full bottle of vodka was sitting on a coffee table, and after a second of hesitation Doctor grabbed it and took a large swig. “Oh, now this is just cute,” said Doctor, noticing a tissue box on the floor. “Crying, or jerking off, or hopefully both.”
He listened closely to the sounds coming from the bathroom. Was that sobbing? He sure hoped it was.
“Man, I knew you had a bad taste, but this?”
Doctor walked around Captain's bedroom, a much cleaner place than his living room with a slight air of being abandoned. Red sheets, fur, candles and handcuffs, everything looked untouched for a long time.
“This is ridiculous. It's not a bedroom, it's a damn porn set, and not even a good one,” Doctor looked around and saw a tripod standing idly in a corner. “Well, naturally.”
A shadow crossed Doctor's mind, but before he could even realize what it was, he got distracted by the sounds coming from the bathroom. Steady noise of running water was now accompanied by what seemed like moans and heavy breathing. Doctor grinned and made himself comfortable in one of Captain's armchairs with his new friend, vodka. “So, crying, or jerking off?” In a minute moaning got louder, and it definitely didn't sound like Captain was sobbing in the shower.
“Billy!” Captain's voice was muffled, but there was no doubt he said Doctor's name.
“Huh.”
Doctor Horrible didn't expect Captain to take the title of Doctor's bitch so literally and with such enthusiasm. In a minute the bathroom door opened, and Captain entered the room in clouds of steam, a towel quickly wrapped around his thighs for lack of a waist at the moment. There wasn't even that much of a belly hanging on top of it, though, to Doctor's surprise.
“Isn't this a lovely view.”
Doctor Horrible chuckled at Captain's confused face as he was blinded by the phone's camera flash.
“Don't look so stunned, I didn't shoot you yet, Captain. Come take a sit, let's have a nice chat like civilized men, without neurotoxins or throwing cars at each other, what do you think?”
Captain walked slowly to the couch and took a seat, trying to not take his eyes off Doctor. The mixture of shame, anxiety and excruciating anticipation overwhelmed him as he sat in front of his nemesis, painfully aware of a damp towel barely covering only his crotch, exposed and most likely disgusting.
Doctor tried hard to keep a straight face and not ogle Captain's naked body, sad, ridiculous, yet oddly comforting in its softness. This guy really let himself go, and whatever torture he was put through to get back in shape didn't quite work, leaving just enough to please Doctor Horrible's desire to see his arch-enemy turn into a mockery of himself. The man could probably still throw a car at Doctor, only now it would come at a price of a heart attack and a ripped pair of pants. And still there was something more to the man sitting uncomfortably in front of Doctor, a hint at another life, when he was still Billy, a beaten up nerd with a dream and not an actual supervillain, which turned out way less fun. There was once a dream, a nemesis to destroy, a friend and a girl, however fleeting her presence was, and now with great power came a job, a friend who avoided him lately, a broken heart and not a single chance to overthrow the system – Doctor was now a part of it, a cog in the machine routinely balancing crime and justice. So, yeah, this was his past sitting in front of him, his pathetic, fat and scared wreck of a past he wasn't able to admit he missed.
Doctor Horrible suddenly realized he was sitting silent all this time, basking in shadenfreude and staring at Captain with misty eyes from the shadow.
“You know, I missed you.”
Fuck, did he just say it sincerely? It was meant to be menacing when he thought of breaking the silence, and also wasn't going to sound so slurred. Did he get drunk already?
“I mean, it would be so much more fun with you around, all fat and traumatized. It's curious how tables turn sometimes, don't you think?”
“Why are you here?”
“I said I miss you! Wanna drink?” Doctor offered a bottle to Captain. He stalled for a moment, then grabbed it and took a gulp. “Can't I just come to see my old buddy, to make sure he's still a wimpy douchebag with an overblown ego who can't take a punch, yet is so eager to give them? Maybe I just want to hang out and keep you company for awhile as you descend deeper into obesity and irrelevance? It's what friends do, come on.”
“I didn't know you were now everyone's darling superstar, Doctor”, said Captain, looking more confident now that he had a bottle of booze in his hand. “Oh wait, you're not. So, what were you saying about tables, again?”
“I'm not a fame whore that you once were, Captain. I'm fine alone.”
“And yet, here you are.”
“Don't fatter... ha... flatter yourself, Captain Hammer!” This exchange started to annoy Doctor.
“Don't fool yourself, Doctor.” Captain kept his voice calm, but his cheeks were blushing now and eyes sparkled more with every drink he took from the bottle. “The city loved me. Women loved me. A lot of men loved me, too, if Tumblr is any indication. But nobody ever liked you, Doctor. Not even those girls who drew porn with me and supervillains, they didn't care about you either, and they drew me doing it with everyone. And I mean, everyone. You barely registered then, and you barely register now.”
“You know shit about me, Captain Tightpants. Captain No Pants. Ha.”
“I know enough, Doctor. You're an average nerd a dime a dozen who can't speak to girls and invents stuff that doesn't work, but you're hellbent on turning yourself into a supervillain, only having seen supervillains in Saturday morning cartoons, and you can't get over a girl who slept with me and not you.”
Doctor froze in his place, clenching fists and breathing heavily, squinting at Captain who only seemed more satisfied with every word that got under Doctor's skin. Was this fucker asking for a fight? Doctor's obvious lack of strength and muscles didn't bother him now thanks to alcohol, and Captain Hammer's face looked more and more punchable.
“Oh, I almost forgot!” chuckled Captain. “Me and your girlfriend, we made a movie that night. Well, she wasn't aware of it, but she gave a delightful performance on top of me. Wanna hear her scream my name along God's? It's short... I mean... Not that I...”
Doctor jumped from the armchair, face burning red, and aimed a fist at Captain's mocking smile, only to have it caught in his enemy's large hand and find himself placed in one move flat on a couch, a t-shirt falling from its back on Doctor's face to complete this humiliating manoeuvre. Captain's hand on his chest held him firmly in place, legs thrown over Hammer's. His other hand rested on Doc's inner thigh, and a t-shirt smelled of stale sweat and something nasty Doctor couldn't quite figure out, yet now he didn't want to make any other move or leave this degrading position. Just a couple hours before he held his nemesis in his hands, scared shitless and tripping balls on neurotoxins, and now what? The tables did indeed turn in mysterious ways.
“You know what?” said Doctor from under a t-shirt, voice suddenly shaking. “I think you've really worked hard to earn these last five years, and your efforts finally paid off handsomely. You did so much to achieve all this. Your morbid obesity, loneliness, your pathetic attempts to boost your ego at my expense, and nobody but a bunch of homemade sex tapes to keep you company. You deserve all this, Captain Jerk-Off, congratulations.”
“Didn't you just describe yourself, Doc? Only, like, fat? Oh, and this stings so badly coming from a loser homicidal psychopath, a joke even for his fellow villains, a nobody who has nobody, a sloppy drunk and, last but not least, a guy who raped me to make a point.”
“And you enjoyed every minute of it!”
Doctor felt Captain moving on the couch, placing himself on top of him. He didn't care if Hammer was going to smother him or beat into a bloody mess. Who gives a fuck anyway.
“Just like you seem to enjoy having my old cum-drenched t-shirt all over your face.”
Doctor Horrible hastily threw it on the floor and saw Captain's face a few inches above his.
“Get off me.”
“No way.”
“The hell do you want? Revenge? Break my neck and don't waste my time.”
“No. It's you I want, little buddy. All to myself. I don't like sharing, you see. Couldn't let you settle with that girl that time. Ever wondered why no other superhero bothered to fight you? I always told them you're mine. I didn't even realize this until some time ago. I blame my therapist, really. It was easier just getting my hands on you without understanding that I want to get my hands on you. And your hands on my hammer.” Captain leaned closer and whispered into Doctor Horrible's ear. “And yes, Billy, I love cherries.”
“There's no Billy anymore.”
“Well, it's worth taking a look, maybe you're just hiding him somewhere.”
Doctor laid there petrified and barely able to grasp what's going on. Proverbial tables turned, spun a little, hit him on the head and flew away in a flock, leaving him seriously confused. As tables gracefully soared into the setting sun, Captain was undoing the buttons on his lab coat.
“How sweet,” smiled Captain, as he revealed a well-worn t-shirt with a yellow hammer logo under Doctor's red coat.
“Laundry day,” grumbled Doctor Horrible.
Captain's large hand slipped under Doctor's t-shirt.
“Missing a human touch for some time now, are we?”
“I hate you. You're an asshole,” said Doctor trying to suppress his whole body shivering.
“Then use me like one. They say it's better the second time.”
* * *
Nothing made any sense anymore, as Doctor laid on a couch, suddenly feeling his lips part, welcoming Captain's kiss, and his tongue eagerly entwine with the Captain's. Hammer's tongue was very deliberate in entering Doctor's mouth, rough and hungry, and his hand was exploring Doctor's body under that damn t-shirt, generously stroking his skin, caressing his chest and playing with nipples. Doctor was pretty sure his erection has never felt so painful, ready to release any moment.
As Captain broke the kiss, Doctor instinctively raised his head, following the other man's mouth, but had a finger seal his lips.
“We shall get back to that in a moment, Doc. Now, there's other business to attend to.”
Captain started hastily pulling off Doctor's clothes, t-shirt and lab coat the first to go, then he pulled off his boots and unzipped his pants. Horrible's tightie whities barely managed to hold his hard-on in place, and Doctor made a loud gasp as Captain laid his hand on a bulge, slowly rubbing it. One stronger stroke, and he pulled down Doctor's underwear, revealing his cock leaking onto the stomach.
“Man, a nice mess you got here,” said Captain, running his fingers up and down Horrible's shaft, balls and pubes damp with pre-cum. “Let's take a peek at the head, now shall we.”
Captain's fingers gently held Doctor's cock and slowly pulled back his uncut foreskin. This move was too much for Doctor to handle, as he felt his abs clench, balls tighten and a thick spurt of semen rush from his penis, splattering all over his body. The first one was followed by a few more, less strong but still making a puddle of hot jizz on his stomach. He didn't even manage a scream and just breathed heavily, his chest heaving and mouth agape, face burning red with shame and arousal. He was afraid to open his eyes.
“Damn, that was quick. And hot,” said Captain's voice.
Doctor looked at Captain with one eye. Hammer was kneeling between his legs on the couch, smoldering look on his face, and towel gone, revealing his throbbing erection.
“Go on, Captain, I know you want to,” said Doctor, his voice hoarse from panting. He stretched on the couch, placing his arms behind his head, and looked Captain directly in the eye.
Captain put his left hand behind him and arched forward as he stuck a thumb in his ass, thrusting hard into his clenched fist. He kept stroking his dick and pushing fingers deeper inside to rub a prostate. Eyes fixed on Doctor's blushing face, he felt the approaching orgasm in his whole body, and his movements lost their rhythm, harder strokes on his penis bringing him sooner release. Captain's whole body tightened and with a long moan he spilled his cum on Doctor's stomach. Breathing loudly, he collapsed on top of him, spreading sticky puddle of semen all over their bodies.
Everything that just happened seemed completely wrong to Doctor, yet he couldn't help but feel satisfied and, of all things, relaxed and secure, lying here covered in cum under the weight of his supposedly still arch-nemesis. There was a dash of self-deprecation somewhere below all this, but Doctor was genuinely surprised how simply good it felt right now. His sober and drunk self suddenly changed their parts, and now his drunk self, who felt used, spent and humiliated, was giving up to the sober part of his brain, however small, telling him to go for it and have some messy fun. He'll kill the guy later, if there's a problem, no big deal.
Captain silently sat up and grabbed his old t-shirt from the floor. He carefully wiped Doctor's body clean with it and then cleaned his chest and stomach as well. He dropped it back on a floor and stood up. He then took Doctor in his arms and, still silent, carried him to the bedroom. Doctor felt Captain's heart beating rapidly and chest heaving with heavy breathing. In a moment they were both in a spacious Captain's bed, under his ridiculous fur blanket, warm and quiet. The blanket felt really nice, though, thought Doctor.
Captain Hammer turned to Doctor and wrapped him in his arms, smiling.
“Keep in mind, I can still break all you limbs and crush your windpipe in a matter of seconds.”
“I've never heard a sweeter thing.”
“Shut up and let me finish. But you should not be afraid of anyone if you're still mine. Anyone looks at you funny, I'll rip their heads off. You're my nemesis, and nobody messes with my pronounced enemies. Especially little cute ones. As long as they don't leave me.”
“Are you saying we should give up our lives of crime and crime-fighting and engage in an abusive relationship?”
“Pretty much. Is there a problem?”
“None at all. Have you always been so cuddly? I wasted years not knowing it,” Doctor moved closer, holding tight onto Captain's huge body, one leg wrapped around his thigh. “Do you mind if I fuck you later, it's so warm here I'm all sleepy. And also please don't turn it into a trap and kill me while I sleep, okay?”
“Okay. I won't kill you, and you can fuck the hell out of me later.”
“Pinky promise?”
“Don't be ridiculous, dude.”
“Oh, I need to ask one thing. Like, really badly. Your fans drew porn with you and every supervillain ever, right? So... Bad Horse?”
Now Doctor's persona has finally faded away, and it was Billy breathing into Captain's neck. He was smiling at the idea of Captain having his own army of porn-drawing fans, not grinning in an evil fashion, but just being genuinely amused by the fact.
“You have no idea.”
Captain smiled back at Billy.
No comments:
Post a Comment