Unexpected Love

*warning: violence and rape in this chapter!

Chapter 3

Days passed, but Charles couldn’t forget the young prostitute he’d chosen to take home. Whenever he closed his eyes it was the image of Erik he saw. He knew now that what he feared was true; he had fallen in love with Erik, and there was nothing he could do to help it. The lost and abused young man had captured his heart and it didn’t seem like he’d return it anytime soon.

Charles knew he would go crazy if he couldn’t see Erik again. He had to see him, if only from a distance, so he’d know he was alright… Charles knew prostitutes easily got themselves into trouble and he wasn’t sure Erik would be able to defend himself.

Six days after the night they’d shared, Charles got into his car, and drove to the house where he’d left Erik. He watched the building for some minutes, trying to decide if he should go inside and ask for Erik. He chose not to, but he was going to stay in his car and watch the entrance carefully; sooner or later Erik would come out – or in – through it.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Erik hadn’t been able to keep his promise to Charles. After three days, when his bottom had started to feel better, he had no choice but to start working again. Fortunately none of his customers had been over-rough now, so there was a chance his anus might heal, after all.

Six days had passed since his stay at Charles’ house, and he was again standing by the same street where Charles picked him up, secretly hoping it would happen again.

It didn’t. Instead he got himself another customer. The man was about 40, tall and broad, with an untidy face, black stubble and small, glaring eyes. Erik cringed at the mere thought of lying under him, but as always he put on the business-like, friendly smile he used on every potential customer.

“Hello sir, are you looking for some…”

“You’re a pretty little whore,” the man interrupted, measuring Erik from head to toe. “How much?” His breath stank of liquor.

“Seven dollars for one hour, fifty for the whole…”

“A couple of hours should do it,” he muttered. “Come with me.”

He grabbed Erik’s arm not too gently, and started dragging him toward a car some yards away. When they reached it he shoved Erik into the passenger seat.

He’s rough, Erik thought with dismay. He started to think he shouldn’t have gone with this man, but it was too late now. If he backed out the man would demand an explanation and he couldn’t come up with hinghing plausible. Besides he could get violent, and that was really the last thing Erik wanted.

“Where are we going?” Erik asked carefully. He thought he at least was entitled to know *that*.

“A hotel,” the man replied gruffly. “I can’t take you to my place, my wife’s there.”

Of course, Erik thought. Your wife can’t know you’re going to whores, and male ones, for that matter.

When they got to the hotel, and the man went to check in, he told the receptionist Erik was his son. Erik almost sighed. Really, how plausible was that? The clerk however asked him no questions but assumed he was telling the truth. Or then she didn’t care. Erik believed it was the latter.

“Take your clothes off,” the man said as soon as they had gotten upstairs to the hotel room. “I want to look at you.”

Erik, of course, did what he was told and stripped without modesty. He had given that up long ago. When he was naked he could literally feel the man’s eyes on him, and he also couldn’t help noticing the prominent bulge grg ing in his pants. The man watched him like a predator watching its prey.

“Nice body,” he said grinning. “A little more meat on your bones would’ve been nice, but okay. Now come here and give me a blowjob.”

Erik carefully approached his customer and obediently kneeled before him when he was motioned to do so. The man opened his pants and took out his already hardening member. He probably hadn’t showered in a while, because he was stinking, but despite this Erik took his member down his throat without showing hesitation. The first time he did this he nearly threw up, but practice makes perfect. By now he was so used to it that it didn’t really bother him.

The taste was bitter, but he endured that too. He knew he was fairly good at this, and wanted to prove that, as he didn’t want to give the man a reason to be mean. When he felt the man’s hand tangling in his hair he allowed it to happen, despite that he was afraid of being choked.

Suddenly though, he was told to stop. The man firmly held his head still, glaring down at him with his small eyes. Then he grinned. “That was good! My wife never does that, ya know.” Then he winked at Erik, as though they shared a secret.

“Now lie on the bed!”

Erik crawled up from the floor and sat down on the bed and watched as the man took his pants off. He didn’t bother taking off the rest of his clothes, because it simply wasn’t necessary.

“Lie down on your back,” were his next instructions.

Erik followed them and settled on his back, already spreading his legs, assuming that’s how he wanted him.

“There is lubricant in my…”

The man snorted at him. “Nah, forget it! I don’t like getting my cock all messed up.”

Afraid of being torn again, Erik tried, “But please sir, I would like to…”

“Shut up!” the man snapped. “Before we get started I’ll give you something, though.”

He stuck his hand inside his briefcase and pulled something up. Erik glanced in his direction, and to his dismay he saw it was a syringe of some kind. Instantly he felt strong terror, recalling the sadistic doctors that did all kinds of strange medical experiments on him at Hitler’s death camp.

“W-hat is th-that…?” he stuttered in fear.

“This…” the man said, tapping the syringe, “is something that’ll make you relax, dear boy. You see, it’s so much more fun if you’re high.”

“I don’t want it!” Erik called reflexively. “Take it away!”

“Of course you want it. It’s first class heroin. All little whores want it. Now keep still!”

The man started to approach the bed – and Erik – with the syringe ready in his hand. Erik started to panic. No matter what; he couldn’t let the man inject that into him. He just couldn’t. Not again.

“No! Keep that thing away! I don’t want to!” he screamed and raised his arms to shield himself.

But the man paid no attention to Erik’s cries, but kept coming closer with a stern look on his face.

When he was close enough he lunged for Erik’s arm, but this time Erik didn’t wait for it to happen. He managed to surprise the man, who wasn’t prepared for such resistance, and tore himself loose. He rolled off the bed but got to his feet quickly, heading for the door. He was naked, and there was no time to put on any clothes, but that didn’t matter, as long as the evil man didn’t give him the heroin injection.

But Erik never reached the door. His attacker recovered quickly, and before Erik could reach the door the man grabbed him and slammed his head into the nearest wall, brutally and aggressively. Stunned, Erik sank to the f and and almost lost consciousness.

Before he could recover the least he was torn up and thrown onto the bed, and soon felt a heavy weight pressing him into the mattress. The man was much bigger than him, and many times stronger. Erik didn’t stand a chance against him. To stun him further, tan van viciously backhanded the young prostitute across the jaw. His arm was pulled out from under him, and despite his current daze he could feel the thin needle being stuck into his vein.

“That’s it, bitch!” the man hissed. “Get high!”

The drug almost rendered Erik unconscious but he could still feel it when the man flipped him over, spread his legs and drove into him without any lubricant or preparation. It hurt like never before and Erik screamed, drugged and helpless, pinned under a man twice his weight. His agony only seemed to excite the brute and he kept thrusting hard and fast into the almost limp body underneath his own.

Erik thought it would never end. He ceased screaming eventually, when he simply had no more strength to do it. Somewhere in his foggy mind he wondered whether this man would kill him, and by the end of it he almost hoped that he would.

The man finally came with a roar, shooting his seed into Erik’s torn, abused little body. He pulled out his penis, which was smeared with blood and his own semen, and used Er whi white shirt to wipe it off.

When he was finished dressing, he roughly shoved Erik off the bed. When he landed on the floor, blood from Erik’s bleeding nose stained the hotel carpet.

“Get dressed and get out of here, you whore!” was the first thing the man said to him after the brutal rape. “I have to get home to my wife! Get your ass out of here!”

Erik kind of woke up from his semi-unconscious state when the heard the rough voice, and almost like a zombie he managed to pull on what remained of his clothes and then rose to his feet, but had to lean against the wall for support. His head was spinning violently, and he didn’t know how badly he was hurt; only that this time it was bad. Maybe he wouldn’t survive.

Beaten, bloody and drugged Erik made his way out of the hotel. Every step he took hurt, despite the numbness of his body. He could hardly see anything and felt like he’d faint every ten seconds.

Slowly, but desperate to get home, Erik staggered toward the house where he rented a room. He wasn’t sure how he even knew where to go, but right then it didn’t matter. He didn’t believe he would survive anyway.

When he finally reached the stairs of the house, the blood loss and the obvious overdose of heroin made Erik collapse into a small trembling heap on the ground.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Having waited for five hours, Charles had almost fallen asleep in his car when he finally heard steps approaching the entrance. His eyes snapped open and right when he looked in the direction of the sound, he could see a staggering dark shape collapse onto the ground before it reached the door.

Erik. Charles knew it was him before he even saw him properly.

He bounced out of his car in half a second, and despite that Erik was only some ten yards away it felt like an eternity to get to him. When Charles reached him all doubts vanished. It was Erik, alright. But when Charles crouched to have a look at him, he was terrified.

Erik looked like he was dying. He was alarmingly cold, covered in cold-sweat, and his face was smeared in blood; both dried and fresh. Charles could also not help noticing the blood that soaked through Erik’s thin pants.

“Oh my God… Erik?” he whispered in shock. “What…?”

As carefully as he could, Charles tried to tuck his arms in under Erik’s thin trembling body. The young man’s head lolled over his arm and Erik could not find the strength – or focus – to keep it upright. He tried to speak, but all that left his mouth were a series of moans and incoherent murmurs. His breathing was ragged, and when Charles checked for his pulse, he discovered it was much slower than it should be.

Charles began to realize what had happened. Dizzy, unclear images of a man holding a syringe reached his head, and even though Erik’s thoughts didn’t make one bit of sense, he knew.

Erik had been drugged and raped. He had lost a lot of blood, and the narcotic had rendered him almost unconscious. It was possible he would go into shock any second.

Charles felt almost like he’d faint himself. What was he supposed to do now? What Erik really needed was medical attendance, but what would the hospital do about him? Erik had no insurance; he was a prostitute, and there was a risk he wasn’t even here legally. If the authorities got their hands on him he could end up being sent back to Germany. No, that couldn’t happen.

After some conferring with himself, Charles decided to take Erik to the Xavier-estate. He was no doctor, but his father had been one, and he wasn’t a complete stranger to medicine.

“Erik, dear, you’re coming with me,” he said, trying to soothe the boy. “I’m going to make you okay. I promise. Come here…”

He lifted Erik into his arms and carried him back to his car. The poor thing was even lighter than he looked, and Charles thought he had to do something about that. He wrapped Erik into a blanket he found in his trunk, and laid him down in the backseat.

During the drive back to the mansion only one thought filled Charles head. Please, let him make it… Oh please, let him make it!

When he got home Charles watualtually glad his parents were no longer around. He couldn’t imagine what they had done if he’d come home in the middle of the night with a bloody bundle in his arms. That’s what Erik was now; a bloody bundle.

Charles realized that he first and foremost had to get Erik’s body temperature up. He only knew one way, and that was to get him into a hot bath. Almost in frenzy he filled his large bathtub with hot, steaming water, hoping it wasn’t hot enough to burn Erik’s skin.

He carefully removed Erik’s blood-soaked clothes and then lowered him into the water. He had regained some consciousness now, and with some help could keep his head upright. Charles held him firmly though, to make sure he wouldn’t slip too far down and drown, and tried to make his tremors go away with gentle caresses.

It *was* necessary to get Erik warm, but the hot water only furthered his bleeding, and dismayed Charles could see the water quickly turning crimson with Erik’s blood. Because he couldn’t afford to lose much more blood, Charles decided to end the bath.

His tremors had ceased, or at least diminished, so he thought it was safe. Wrapping Erik into a large towel, he carried him to his own bedroom and put him on the bed, knowing the hardest part remained. Charles already knew Erik had been raped, but he had yet to check how badly injured he was. Perhaps he even required stitches.

Erik’s breathing was still ragged, but his pulse was faster than before, and that was a good sign. The narcotic effect of the heroin dose had started to diminish, and therefore he’d also begun to feel stronger pain again. Erik whimpered at first, but burst into tears when he tried to move and discovered the horrible, body-racking pain between his legs.

Charles was instantly there, to place his warm soothing hand on his forehead and assure him everything was going to be fine. Erik recognized his voice and though his memories of Charles were blurred at the moment, he knew he was safe. The pain was still there, of course, and he couldn’t stop crying.

“My dear, you are bleeding,” Charles said softly. “I have to check how bad it is. Don’t worry, alright? I’ll try not to hurt you.”

To Erik it felt like his rectum had been torn to shreds, and he wasn’t exactly looking forward to having it examined. Charles was very gentle though, and was careful not to make any hasty movements that would cause him more pain.

Very slowly, Charles spread Erik’s legs to assess the hurt down there. He sighed when he saw the deal. It was like he’d suspected, or even worse. Erik was badly torn, and new fresh blood still poured out of him onto Charles’ sheets. The sheets were made of expensive silk, and most likely they were ruined now, asodstodstains didn’t go away easily, but that didn’t matter. Charles gladly would have sacrificed all his silk sheets just to ease Erik’s pain a little.

Yes, this needed to be stitched. Charles was sure of that now. It was worse now than last time. A lot worse. Erik was bleeding, and it didn’t seem like it would stop anytime soon.

Realizing he didn’t have a choice, Charles asked gravely, “Erik, listen to me. You need to be stitched, and I believe a hospital could help you better than I can. Would you like to go to a hospital, Erik? Please tell me.”

Erik’s mind may have been distorted with pain and narcotic, but he was still clear enough to decide that for himself. He would *never* go to a hospital. Not if he could help it. Never.

“No…n-no h-h-hos-p-pital…” he sobbed desperately. “Please… d-don’t…take me there…”

“Are you sure? The tearing is…”

“Please! Charles, I don’t want to!” Despite his current weakness Erik took a firm hold of Charles’ forearm. The thought of all those doctors examining him and sticking him with needles was just too much. He’d rather endure the pain than that.

“Alright, I won’t,” Charles said calmingly. “I just wanted to ask. But in that case…” he sighed, knowing there was no alternative, “I’ll have to stitch you myself.”

Erik just nodded. He didn’t want to think about it, and the sooner it was over the better. Rather Charles than a team of cynical white-coats.

Charles knew he had to leave Erik for a moment to get the “right equipment” so to speak. He still had his father’s med-kit here somewhere, and was suddenly glad he hadn’t thrown it away, because it was truly needed now.

“I’ll go get some things, but I will be back in a minute,” he promised the abused young man. He knew he also had to deal with Erik’s facial injuries, but not right now. Stitching his bottom was the top priority.

“Don’t leave me, please…” Erik whispered, closing his eyes. One was swollen and discoloured, and Charles doubted he could see well right now.

“It’s only for a minute, dear. I’ll be back before you kno.”
.”

It took him about three minutes to find the med-kit in the wardrobe of his parents’ bedroom, but there it was, and it was intact.

When he returned to his bedroom, Erik’s cries had been reduced into miserable sobs, and he barely heard Charles entering. The pain was just getting worse, and had really started to dread being stitched. He almost thought about asking Charles to leave him as he was, but that wasn’t good either, since his bleeding had to be stopped.

“Hey dear,” Charles murmured. “How are you feeling? Any better at all?”

Erik shook his head almost imperceptibly. No, he was not better, anyway. Rather the opposite.

Charles sighed. Erik’s pain was one problem. Charles had no anaesthetic, and even though he’d had it, it would have been dangerous giving it to Erik, as he was no doctor and knew very little of the right dosage.

There was one thing he could do though, and decided it was worth the risk. Being stitched without anaesthesia in his current condition would drive Erik mad.

He kneeled by the bed and put his hand on Erik’s sweaty forehead. Erik opened his good eye and gave him a blurry yet pained look. Old tears were still gleaming in the corners of his eyes, and new ones had begun to form.

“Now I want you to relax, dear,” Charles said gently. “I won’t hurt you, but I need you to relax. Can you do that?”

“I will try…” whispered Erik.

He closed his eyes, and so did Charles, who now used his telepathic mind to “shut Erik off”, so to speak, as it was the only way for him to go through this without feeling any pain. When it was done, Erik’s head lolled sideways and he exhaled slowly, sounding almost like a sigh. His pulse was slow but steady, and finally he was breathing soundly.

“I’m sorry…” Charles murmured and pressed a kiss to Erik’s forehead. “But I did it for your own good…”

Now when Erik was unconscious Charles figured he might get started. He could feel a bile rise in his throat when he looked at the gaping wound between the other’s legs that he was about to stitch, but managed to fight it down.

He started by cleaning Erik’s anus and the area around it with disinfectant fris ois own medicine cupboard, and then sterilized the needle he would use. Just to be sure, he also held it in the flame of a lighter, making sure all bacteria were killed.

Charles had never stitched a wound before, so he was very afraid he’d hurt Erik more than he’d help him. It was a very finical task that required a large amount of self-control and steady hands.

Charles decided to turn Erik onto his side for better access. His hands were trembling considerately when he started to stitch the young prostitute’s backside together, using suture thread from his father’s med-kit and a bent suture needle. Beads of sweat poured down his bald head and landed on his arms and next to the bloodstains originating from Erik.

It required four stitches. The blood flow had decreased dramatically when he was done, and though some still trickled from Erik’s now-stitched opening, it was no longer a problem. It would cease as soon as his blood coagulated.

Erik was still unconscious, and seemed to have noticed nothing throughout the whole procedure. Charles smiled in relief. timetimes his mind-bending ability could be an asset. He finished by putting ointment on the wound; careful not to use his fingernails to do any more damage.

After examining his face, Charcoulcould state that Erik’s nose was not broken, and his split lower lip would heal in a few days. He gently wiped the blood away; sad to see that beautiful face all black and blue. But there was no real worry. The injuries weren’t serious and Erik’s face would not remain permanently distorted. CharCharles bent down to kiss his smooth forehead, stroking the dark hair back while murmuring consoling things. “You are going to be alright, love…” he said. “Trust me. It’s a promise.”

Then Charles undressed himself, but kept his briefs on; figuring Erik didn’t want – or need – to feel a man’s naked member against his body right now, despite that it wasn’t going to hurt him.

He then crawled down into bed, and pulled Erik’s limp frame into his arms. Charles believed Erik wanted the warmth and comfort a human embrace could offer, in spite that he wasn’t conscious.

“I really love you…” he murmured with Erik’s dark head resting on his chest. “I can’t help it, but I do…”