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He pads quietly to Lloyd's office. Empty. The kitchen? He eats at odd hours. But no, empty. He even checks the foyer, as if it's within Lloyd's habits to sit on the couch and watch TV. It's from there that he peers out the window and finally sees Lloyd on the balcony. Ah, smoking, he should've thought of it sooner.
He calls out his name as he slides open the door, but any further words are choked from his throat like pinching the end of a cigarette. The smell stings his lungs and makes him frown.
"Yes, there is a reason why I don't usually invite you out here," he says, scathing.
"I didn't know you smoked… that," the boy replies, keeping a few feet away.
Eyeing his distant demeanor, he walks closer and puffs a cloud of smoke right into the boy's face. "Who doesn't?"
He steps away, but struggles from the coughing fit clutching his lungs. Lloyd scoffs. "I-I'm not against it!" he chokes between coughs, "I just never really considered it."
"That's the least suprising thing I've ever heard." He thumbs out a small tin box from his pants pockets and pops it open, pulling the joint and dropping it in the boy's hands. "Maybe if you smoked once in a while, you wouldn't be so..." He gestures flippantly at the boy.
He holds the item precariously, like it might blow up with one wrong move. "Er... what do I..." He jumps when he looks up and realizes Lloyd is hovering right above him, lighter inches from his face.
"You're a lost cause," he says, shaking his head. Then he smiles, eyes completely narrow, sending shivers down the boy's spine. He takes the joint from his hands and parts his lips with it. "Put the tip in your mouth." The boy obliges with a shakey breath. "Now suck."
He flushes, of course he does. It's only worse when he does suck and Lloyd puts a hand to his face as his clicks the lighter to life. The glow of his face in spark is so warm and inviting for once, completely unlike the sterile lighting of the lab. But, before he can memorize every nook and cranny, his eyes squeeze shut as he coughs out the smoke that just shot down his lungs.
It tastes completely vile and all too strong and the boy tears up, but he sees Lloyd taking a draw of his joint through blurry eyes and tries to copy him. "Good boy," he calls, patting him on the head in an uncharacteristically soothing manner.
His hands shake as he fights his way through the next few minutes in stone silence. His throat burns from suppressing coughs, but he finishes not long after Lloyd and drops the end of the joint off the side of the balcony. "W-what's supposed to happen now?" he mumbles towards his superior.
"I'm going back inside," he says, completely ignoring the boy. He can only follow him like a lost puppy, anxiety and fear growing within him as the weight of uncertainty sets in. All of a sudden they're in front of the bedroom, and Lloyd walks in towards his dresser.
The boy tries to follow, but is hit with blaring pain in his forehead as he walks straight into the wall next to the door. He hears snickering from Lloyd, but doesn't know where to look to find him. Everything's... blurry. He can't tell if he's standing or on the ground. It might've taken him seconds or minutes or hours to make contact with the bed and collapse, but eventually he makes it.
"This is... how are. You standing," he half yells from across the room. His ass is on the bed, but his legs still dangle off the side. Trying to move them feels like trying to move massive weights. He hears the dresser shut before Lloyd makes his way to him.
"You're as naive as ever. I didn't think you were actually so stupid as to take drugs from someone who's built up a tolerance for a decade longer than you," he says with a sharp hyena laugh.
He wants to be embaressed, but there's no system to process the shock. He's just... okay. Whatever. He can't feel his hands. His eyes fall shut.
A heavy weight pins him down, not the same as the feeling he has in his limbs. He blinks up to see Lloyd. "You don't get to sleep this off. I'm going to teach you your lesson," he says smiling. His hands hover down the sides of his body, reaching the bottom of his dress shirt and slowly unbuttoning it. The boy knows, logically, he should be scared, but all he can do is stay limp and let it happen. The feeling is so... interesting, honestly. Feeling Lloyd straddle him and fingers brush against his skin sends sparks in the back of his brain.
He whines when his torso is exposed, the cold stabbing into his skin. He whines again when Lloyd flicks his hardened nipple, the rush pulsating through his whole body up and down. Lloyd laughs.
"I knew this would happen. I knew drugging you would turn you into an even needier sensitive bitch," he coos, grasping his chest with a clawed hand and squeezing hard. The boy arches his back reflexively. "You're not even looking at me with those big scared eyes of yours anymore. You don't know what's happening to you."
His hands trail down to the boy's pants and he tugs them off easily, revealing a dripping cunt and a swollen clit. "Agh... no..." he tries to vocalize beyond that, but to no avail. The weight pushing down on him is gone as he slowly realizes Lloyd has gone over the edge of the bed, face pushing between his thighs.
A loud moan breaks through his lips the second he feels Lloyd's tongue push against his clit, followed immediately by a gargled yell as he clenches his thighs and realizes the sensation is far too much. Lloyd laps against him so hard it's painful, like he can feel every bump of his tongue scraping against him. He wriggles around in an attempt to escape, but Lloyd pins down his thighs steady and refuses to stop his assault. Similarly, neither can the boy stop the half-moans, half-screams that escape his throat either as he feels his world drowning in the sensation.
"Lloyd- agh, Lloyd, please," he chokes. "No, no more." The words are so difficult to get out. He feels trapped, like everything outside is pounding water and so painfully slow to get through. Yet, somehow, when everything is just at it's worst and he feels 9 miles away from his body, Lloyd flicks his tongue just right and the overwhelming pain is turned into overwhelming pleasure. He seizes up and gasps and clenches his thighs around Lloyd's head as his sensitive body is left defenseless to the electricity dancing up and down his spine. He pants hard, almost heaving, until all of a sudden he feels he could just melt into gooey honey. He tries to force his body to relax when he can feel Lloyd moving.
"You're so fucked up from just one little orgasm," he says from far away, annoyingly playful. "How're you going to take any more?" Warm fingers move to his sensitive clit, and he wants to scream. He tries to kick Lloyd away, but can barely move his legs a few inches. He's limp under Lloyd's touch.
It's somehow all the worse and better this time. He's so, so, sensitive, even more than before, it's so arduous to get him anywhere close. Yet, at the same time he's completely desperate for more. Lloyd's fingers rub him hard and rhythmically, and it's all he can do to mewl and grind into his hand. His mind screams no, but his body is seemingly on autopilot. He squeezes his thighs and humps Lloyd's fingers like a dog.
"Such a stupid drugged out whore," he calls. "Completely overstimulated, yet you can't resist a chance to get off anyways." Lloyd jerks him off even harder, like he's trying to test how much until the boy short-circuits.
And his estimate seems not too far off - the boy is sent over the edge again, twitching and moaning and crying out with tears in his eyes. His mouth is open wide, but only strangled noises come out. After a few moments, he finally remembers to breathe and heaves until it feels like his lungs are going to escape his body. "Eno-enough!" he whimpers out between sobs.
"Enough? But what about me?" says Lloyd with a faux innocence. The boy is far too gone to register the sound of the man's voice. He stands up and fidgets for a moment, while the boy stays twitching and sobbing in his own little world.
It's like he's floating and being crushed all at once. The tears coming from his eyes don't feel like his. Yet somewhere, in a moment of clarity, he feels so warm and fuzzy that Lloyd is here with him. He can only see his figure through blurry, blurry eyes, but it seizes his heart. He wants to reach out and touch him.
Suddenly, he realizes he is. Somehow his legs are on Lloyd's shoulders, Lloyd bent over and hovering so close to him. When Lloyd pushes inside, it's like his guts are actually rearranging to accommodate him. He wants to giggle at the fluttery sensation, but he's too preoccupied realizing his sensitivity is enough to send him reeling on just the first thrust- he's so, so, so full and warm and fuzzy and it feels so good...
He can't help it as clenches down on Lloyd's cock and his third successive orgasm wrecks him. He moans, and then moans again when Lloyd starts to thrust despite what's happening to him, and somehow that just compounds into everything being all the better. Drool trickles out the side of his mouth as his body is rocked over and over again with the force of Lloyd fucking him. Words babble out of him that he doesn't even know of. "Fuck, Lloyd- fuck me, agh, use me, please!" But, Lloyd gives no response, only staying ruthless in his movements as the sickening slapping of their skin fills the room. Lloyd pays no mind to his begs at all, and somehow that's all the more exciting to his drugged out mind and body, eager to play fleshlight for his superior. His cunt is all he feels right now, he might as well be just good for that.
Lloyd grunts and cums inside him and it feels like time stops as the hot ropes fill him up. He wants nothing more than to be completely swollen with his seed, and the thought alone sends him down one last time, clenching his cock again like he's going to milk every last drop out himself. For once, they're both panting, as he manages to make some kind of eye contact with Lloyd for the first time in a long time.
He realizes, belatedly, his hands clawing into his back, with blood etched into his fingernails. Lloyd glares back at him. He smiles back sheepishly, and circles his arms around like something almost resembling a hug. Lloyd doesn't make the effort to move away.
The cloud that had been hanging over his head seems to have dissipated a bit, to both his relief and disappointment.
Yet, he's still gone enough to be unable to filter his words. "I-I like... it," he says softly. "This feeling."
Lloyd falls to the side and scoffs. "You're never getting high again. I didn't it was possible for you to get even louder and needier."
The boy draws a hand to his face and flexes it slowly. Repeatedly. Minutes pass before he looks back at the figure laying next to him. "Why do you take it?"
"Huh?" he grunts, annoyed.
"W-well, I imagine you don't get the same affect I do."
He stays quiet for a moment, before sitting up to stand. The boy watches carefully as he grabs a sleep shirt from his dresser and turns the lights off. Finally, sitting back on his side of the bed, he answers. "It helps with muscle pain. And sleep. It doesn't have much of an effect on me beyond that."
The boy lays sprawled on the bed, staring at the dark ceiling. He smiles. In a temporary gap between incapacitation and clarity that he's sure to forget tomorrow, he sees through Lloyd. 'Doesn't have much of an effect on me...'
Tonight, Lloyd didn't hurt him once.