Chapter Text
It was supposed to be a quiet morning. In retrospect he thought it might have been too quiet. But then he didn't know if it had really been or if he thought that now because he knew. Ilya had taken Anya for her morning walk. He had given him a kiss and promised to bring him one of these "disgusting healthy smoothies" with spinach (or grass, like Ilya called it) from the new place down the street.
"I'll be back in around 30 minutes, please rest, solnyshko", he had said.
It had been a tiring week for Shane; he had gone through several shootings with Rolex and since it was already preseason the training had come on top.
Normally he would have gotten up to do yoga or at least some light stretching to get ready for the day, but he was simply too tired for it. Also, he could do it later. Ilya and he had nothing scheduled for today, and after all his husband always liked to watch him do his yoga, while he was running on the treadmill in their home gym. He apparently liked the view.
Shane remembered how he'd heard the front door close, then open a few minutes later. He'd thought Ilya had forgotten something. He hadn't thought much about it until he heard heavy footsteps climbing the stairs to their bedroom. It didn't sound like Ilya, who always took two steps at a time, even though Shane always told him not to. It didn't even sound like one person.
He heard silent whispers. The voices sounded rough, hard. Unfamiliar.
He'd scrambled out of bed, phone in hand, ready to call the police. But then it had already been too late. The bedroom door had sprung open, and he'd found himself face to face with three masked men. They had a gun; they told him to drop the phone. He did. He was only wearing his boxer shorts.
He thought they'd ask him for money or jewelry, for one of his Rolex or even take their laptops or something. But they didn't. They just stood there and looked at him, gun still pointed. He felt a slight tremor in his legs. He didn't know what they wanted, but it became evident quite fast.
"Come on faggot," they said, "don't look so scared. Don't you like having three muscular guys in your house?"
They had laughed, he had said nothing.
"I bet your sissy of a husband will like it too when he comes back."
At this his heart had started to race. Ilya, they couldn't hurt Ilya. Ilya was strong, but they had a gun, he would walk back into the house with Shane’s breakfast smoothie and Anya and they would...
No, he couldn't let that happen.
"Do whatever you want to me, but leave Ilya out of it.", he had said voice as firm as he could muster. This was the only thing he could offer them. "I'll comply, I won't cause any problems."
They had chuckled, then one of them said. "No, I don't believe you will." He hadn't seen the fist coming after that, it had happened so fast. One moment, he'd been standing there, the next he was on the floor, a protective hand over his face. His eye was throbbing, his whole head was throbbing. They didn't leave him on the floor for long. Hands grabbed him and tied him to the nearest chair. They laughed as he winced when they hit his eye again. They laughed when they called him a faggot, a sissy, a disgusting queer. Then the worst part came. They started to ask him questions. One of them came face to face with him and put a hand under his jaw, the touch would have been almost gentle, almost soft, hadn't it been for those eyes who looked so predatory behind the mask, dark brown with a hint of green in them. "So...", the man said, getting his mouth close to his ear, but still speaking loud enough so the other two could hear. "So do you like taking it up the ass?"
He didn't answer. The man slapped him. Hard.
"Answer me you fucking faggot or we will wait for your husband downstairs after we are done with you."
"Yes.", he said quietly.
"Yes, what?"
"Yes, I like taking it up the ass."
"Good boy." The man chuckled and ruffled his hair. His glove slipped and he saw a hint, just a glimpse of bare skin. The tire of a car was tattooed on the man’s wrist. The man saw his glance and slapped him again. "Don’t fucking look. Fucking pervert, yearning for every kind of naked skin he can get." He looked at Shane again. "Isn't that right, aren't you all perverts?"
"No."
This time one of the other men slapped him. He gritted his teeth. It hurt so fucking much, one side of his face was burning, but at the same time it felt so numb that he wasn't even sure it was there anymore.
Now the other man lowered himself to his ear and even though he was wearing a mask, Shane could still feel a light streak of alcohol emanating from his breath. "So, do you want us to wait downstairs for your husband? He looks strong, but everyone breaks at some point. If you ask me, it's even more fun to make the strong ones break. It takes a good amount of time, but it's always so rewarding in the end."
Shane inhaled. This time he gave them a whole sentence right away.
"Yes, we are all perverts."
The slap came anyways. He felt a tear slip down his cheek. He didn't know if it was because of the slap or because of what he had said.
They laughed.
After they left him in peace for a few minutes. The first man with the predatory eyes watched him, while the other two searched for valuables. They took his Rolex from the nightstand and the laptop on the desk, as well as his phone, even though he assumed that that served as a precaution since it wasn't one of the newest models and it had surely cracked when he'd dropped it to the floor. They didn't want him to call for help after they'd left, that's why they took it, it must have been, surely, they needed to leave eventually. He would still be tied to the chair, but Ilya would find him and call the police.
They wouldn't...they couldn't... logically he knew that there were a whole range of other possibilities, but he wouldn't let his mind go there. They would leave, Ilya would come home and find him. They were in the walk-in closet now. Shane could hear them rummaging, could hear how things were dropped to the floor. They would surely take the watches, he also had some cash laying around, surely the golden cufflinks and the jewelry. They didn't have that much, but Ilya possessed some chain necklaces and brushed silver rings. Shane was really glad he'd been wearing his mother’s cross when he left with Anya. He took a deep breath, they would be finished soon surely and they would leave, they needed to leave.
He heard a loud chuckle, then they came back. One of them was carrying a black card box. A black card box Shane knew very well.
"Care to explain what we have here faggot?"
He didn't answer, he didn't need to. The one carrying the box crouched down in front of him. His eyes were of an icy blue.
He opened the box and revealed the dildo and the handcuffs inside.
"So you and your husband really are perverts huh?"
"No.", he said and expected to be slapped again. But they just chuckled. The man in front of him rose and put the black box on the nightstand. Then he looked at him again. "Don't worry, we'll make sure to leave your husband a nice welcome present."
He didn't know what this meant until they got him out of the chair and began to beat him until he couldn't stand anymore. He tried to fight back in the beginning, but then he was alone and they were in three and had a gun. It was no use. He tried to protect himself as best as he could. He felt his vision blacken at the sides, but he never went unconscious. He knew that was supposed to be a good thing, but he would have preferred to be actually. He would have preferred to be unconscious. Everything hurt so fucking much.
They kicked him in the stomach multiple times, kicked him until he couldn't take it anymore and his stomach released its contents onto the floor. It wasn't much, since he still hadn't eaten anything today. They just laughed and didn't even give him time to wipe the bile from his face, when they dragged him up to the bed.
He almost passed out from the pain, as they forced him to lay on his stomach. His breaths came shakingly, he couldn't even scream, it felt like his airways were closing, like there wasn't enough air in the room. He was dying, he was certain of it.
But the worst part hadn't come yet.
His hands were handcuffed to the bed like Ilya had done so many times, but it felt wrong, it felt all so wrong. That was when he began to tremble uncontrollably.
He squirmed as they were slipping their hands under his waistband to remove his underwear, he tried to kick them, but his movement was limited. And it was no use since it only took seconds until gloved hands pressed him down hard into the mattress and this time he did scream, because it hurt so much, he felt like he was blacking out from it.
"Hold still little faggot.", one of them said, he couldn't tell who. He complied.
Ilya would come soon, Ilya would find him. He clutched to these thoughts, while they removed his underwear, while they chuckled as his naked skin was revealed, as he lay in front of them, bare, helpless and exposed.
Tears streamed down his face. He couldn't hide them for long, since they rounded the bed, now coming to where his head lay. They laughed as they took the dildo from his nightstand and propped his jaw up.
Gloved hands forced his mouth open.
"If you bite, we'll insert it into your ass and make your husband watch. Do you understand faggot?"
He nodded.
They shoved the dildo into his mouth from underneath. He gagged on it and they shoved his head down even more. "You like that, don't you?"
He wanted to gasp for air, but he couldn't. He was filled. His jaw hurt, everything hurt.
He continued to tremble and felt more tears streaming down his cheeks.
Ilya would come home, Ilya would find him. Ilya needed to come home, needed to find him. They would leave, they needed to leave.
They went back into the walk-in closet. He heard more rummaging, then they came back. One of them slapped his ass when they passed. He flinched, but they didn't do anything more. They left the room and closed the door behind them.