FicWad

We didn't see Bill for a few weeks after he caught us at it in the park. It was quite nice to not look out of the window and seeing him standing beneath the orange street light. It was nice not to see him sneering at me as I left the building to go to work.

It was on my way home from work that I had the bright idea. Bill wanted Izzy as his own, but Izzy wanted to be with me. It was something that made my heart swell when he purred it in my ear, purred that it was me and me only that he wanted. Izzy seemed to purr a lot. Every time I touched him, he'd smile and purr. Just like a cat. And what do cats wear? Collars of course. I smiled as I took a detour past a pet store.

The store had an array of collars, different colours and styles. It was so hard to pick one but eventually I settled on a slim black leather one. Studs and crystal stars alternated around it, a little metal plaque by the buckle. Perfect! I spied a matching leash and I couldn't resist it. Now, I'm the master of lifting things, everything from cassettes to snakes and there was no way I was going to pay thirty bucks for it. Even if it was for Izzy. I quickly looked around before dropping them into the pocket of my coat and confidently walking out.

Now I'm sitting on our dirty mattress, a small screwdriver in my hand as I scratch Izzy onto the little plaque. I've pretty much moved into his apartment. My mom doesn't mind, in fact I think she's glad to be shot of me. Most of my stuff is here except for my cats and snakes. There's no room and Izzy's not really a cat person. Which is a shame because they're extremely friendly. A little too friendly, it seems, for Izzy. Still, I go and visit them when I can. I do miss them but now I have Izzy to pet. My lovely, nail-polished, hair-dyed boyfriend. I finish and lie back, looking at the collar, smiling. It's a bit messy but it'll do. I've even managed to scratch a little heart next to his name. My porcelain doll boyfriend.

Suddenly I hear the familiar sound of footsteps and I quickly push the collar and leash under the bed. The door creaks open and he's standing there, looking tired, hair messy and straggling his face. He sighs and walks in, kicking the door shut as he does before flopping beside me on the bed.

"Hey." He smiles, turning to his face to mine.

"Hey." I lean in and gently kiss him, savouring the feel of his pouting lips against mine. "How was work?"

He shakes his head, eyes closing and sighing. "Shit as always."

Gently I stroke his hair, brushing it away from his forehead and pressing a kiss to the pale skin.

"Anything I can do to make it better?" I quietly ask, covering his face with little kisses.

He sighs, seeming to be a little happier as he drapes his arms around my shoulders, moving his mouth to mine. God, I love these moments, quiet and serene, slow and loving. I can feel warmth radiating from him, crawling under my skin and going straight to my heart. A drug that costs nothing but gives the ultimate high.

My hands stroke through his softly curled hair, gently kissing him, my tongue licking over his lips. Izzy sighs into my mouth, a leg wrapping around my waist, pulling me close.

"I've got something for you," I say into his mouth.

He pulls back and looks at me, forehead knitted into a frown. I smile and sit up, pulling him with me

Gently I brush my fingers over his eyes. "Close your eyes."

He sits, hands in his lap and eyes closed, a small frown still buckling his forehead. Reaching beneath the mattress, I pull out the collar. Brushing the hair from Izzy's throat, I carefully buckle it around the milky soft skin. It looks gorgeous sitting around his throat, enhancing the gentle curve of his collarbone that peeks out from beneath his shirt. Izzy's eyes snap open and his hands go to his throat.

"What the hell?" His eyes go wide as his fingers slip beneath it. "Why the fuck have you brought me a collar?"

I smile and gently stroke his hair, moving to kiss him.

"Because," I begin, "you purr all the time. And." I kiss him again. "Bill wants to own you so I thought I'd get you something to show that you're mine."

He pulls away and stares me, his hands still feeling the collar.

"I'm not sure I like this," he says. "I don't want to be owned any anyone. I hate that Bill thinks I belong to him and I'm not sure I want you taking the same mentality."

He reaches around and begins to undo it. Sighing, I sit and sadly watch him. I've fucked up, really fucked up. The collar falls away, landing in Izzy's lap. He picks it up and stares at it, eyes studying the tough leather and the glittering stars. Like the stars I see in his eyes, the ones that sparkle when he talks of following his dreams. Like the stars I see in on Hollywood Boulevard, the place Izzy deserves to be immortalised on. It slides through his hands, fingers brushing over the metal plaque. He holds it up, letting the light catch it as he sees his name. I feel bad, so bad for misreading what he wants. I honestly thought he wanted to belong to someone, wanted to be cared for.

"I'm sorry," I whisper, hanging my head.

"Slash." He sighs. "This relationship, you and me, it's not about who owns who. It's a partnership. We're equals. You don't own me and I don't own you." His fingers brush over my cheek, gently lifting my eyes to his. "I know you're new to this. You have to learn and so do I. I'm learning how to love again and you're learning how to be in love." He smiles and wraps his hand into my hair, pulling me into a kiss. "But this is a beautiful collar."

I watch as he releases me and wraps the collar back around his neck, closing and buckling it.

"I'm going to wear it," he continues. "But I want you to understand that it's not an representation of ownership." He smiles. "I like that you put my name on it though. That's quite cool." He purrs at me. "Besides, cats don't have owners. They just have slaves."

Again he smiles, kissing me and nipping at my lower lip. As he does, I reach back under the mattress and pull out the leash. I hide it at my side for a moment.

"If you're going to wear it, while we're in here am I allowed to do this?" I bring out the black strip of leather and clip it to the collar.

He cautiously looks at it and I can see his mind processing. Gently I pull on it, pulling his mouth to mine. I feel a purr begin in his throat, vibrating up into my mouth. He seems to be happy to play along with me as he pushes me to the bed, slinking up my body. A catlike smile graces his lips and he nips at my lips, rubbing his crotch against mine. I moan and close my eyes, feeling myself harden as he moves over me, licking and nipping, fingernails gently clawing at my clothes and skin.

"Is there something you want?" I hiss.

His tongue deftly licks along my throat and to my ear, making me shiver as his fingers scrape at my neck.

"Kitty needs a slave," he purrs into my ear. "Kitty needs to be kept happy."

He shoves a hand down my jeans and I groan as his nails gently scrape along my hardening cock.

"And if he's not happy?" I ask, my mouth quickly drying out.

His nails dig into my cock and I let out a yell. "I'll scratch."

I tug on the leash and pull his mouth to mine, kissing him hard, his cock digging into mine. Holding onto the leather, I roll him over and lavish his mouth with kisses, listening to him purr.

"Scratch me too much and I'll have you spayed." I grin and pull at his lower lip with my teeth.

He looks at me, eyes wide, face set in mock shock. "Don't spay me!"

Laughing, I sit up and strip my off my t-shirt, letting it drop to the floor before setting to work on Izzy. Pushing my hand through the loop of the leash, my fingers race down the shirt, pulling at the buttons and pushing the cheap material away from his thin frame. I bend and lick at the soft skin, my eyes on his, watching that feline grin widen. His nails rake down my back, clawing and scratching. It'll leave welts but I don't care. A little abuse; that's what I want.

I nip and bite at his chest, leaving tiny teeth marks as I move down to his jeans. I love his pants; they're always tight, outlining certain parts of his body perfectly. There's nothing I like more than walking behind him and watching his cute ass. He knows I like watching and I've caught him swinging his hips on more than one occasion. I do hate how he waits until we're miles from home and in the middle of a crowd before doing it. One day I will wind up throwing him against a wall and fucking his brains out in front of a crowd.

Pulling his pants down I hear a happy hiss as I suck and lick at his strained erection. My tongue traces the throbbing vein on the underside, making Izzy squirm and moan. Letting go of the leash, I stand and drag off my own clothes, throwing them into a pile before kneeling between Izzy's spread legs. I quickly lube two fingers and push them into him, hearing him groan and feeling him force himself onto them. Looking up at him, I see that he's grinning, his eyes squeezed shut. He really does look like the cat that's got the cream.

As I stretch him, I give my aching cock the same attention, preparing for what I imagine is going to be some fairly rough sex. He seems to want to abuse me and, if he's going to be a bad kitty, he's going to get the same treatment. Grabbing the leash, I pull out my fingers and push my cock in, draping Izzy's slender legs over my shoulders as I do. His fingers flex and scratch at me as I begin to push into him, aiming for his prostate. His back arches from the bed and his voice bounces off the walls as I hit it, nails finding and digging into my thighs. I let out a low hiss and carry on, pulling the leash to force him into a sitting position. With his legs still over my shoulders, I push him up against the wall, leaving my hands free to crawl over his body, leaving tiny scratches and dribbles of blood. Izzy snarls at me, a vicious "stop and I'll cut your balls off" snarl, eyes gleaming and glazed. He grabs one of my hands and forces it to his cock, demanding, like the minx he is, that I pleasure him before I pleasure myself. I'm more than happy to oblige, roughly jerking him in time to my frantic thrusts. Sweat and blood mix as our bodies slide against each other, voices joined as we cry out for each other. I can feel my orgasm building but I know that I have to wait, wait until he's finished.

It doesn't take long. I simultaneously sweep my fingers over the head of his cock and hit his prostate, causing him to scream my name in a voice I've never heard before. It's filled with pleasure and pain, euphoria and agony, the pain of rough sex and the pleasure of orgasm joined in one scream. His come covers both of us as he his head snaps back, the leash pulling tight. At the same time, his muscles contract around my cock, driving me to the edge. I scream his name, coming deep inside of him.

I thrust into him a few more times before gently lowering him back to the bed. He looks up at me, hair plastered to his face, eyes wide and a Cheshire Cat like grin on his lips. Panting, I smile, sweat dripping down my back and into the wounds he's left in my skin. It stings but I don't care. Coating my fingers with his come, I offer it to him, holding my hand in front of his face. His tongue darts out, deftly licking my fingers, eyes never leaving mine.

He puts one of my fingers in his mouth and sucks on it, smiling around it. "Yummy."

I can't help put grin and kiss him, his legs wrapping around my waist and pulling me to him.

~~~~

The next morning, Izzy went to work wearing the collar. It looked great sitting just above the neckline of his shirt. Izzy has a kind of asexualness that made his new accessory not look at all sexual. It just looked like another piece of jewellery. It accentuated his face and set off the bit of collarbone that poked through his shirt, deadly dark against that snow white skin. I bent and kissed his bony chest before he left. I couldn't help it. He's sensual and beautiful, halfway between male and female. Halfway between the gutter and the stars. Higher than me, slightly lower than God, an angel that fell to earth.

~~~~

A single red rose. That's what I bring when I meet him from work. Normally I don't bother because I'm working myself. Working to keep Izzy in some kind of life that's slightly better than being out on the street.

I sit on the wall outside his workplace, patiently waiting, the flower cradled in my lap. My eyes dart back and forth, watching as people come and go. I know that what Izzy does isn't entirely legal, but I don't care. Most of what we do isn't legal so who am I to care? Eventually, my dark haired sweetheart steps out from a side alley and begins his walk home. Stepping from the wall, I walk up behind him.

"Boo," I whisper.

He jumps and turns, eyes on fire as he glares, his face and hands screwed up, ready to fight. His face softens and he sighs when he sees me.

"You fucker." He presses a kiss to my lips before continuing walking.

I take his hand, holding out the rose to him with the other. Izzy takes it and admires it for a moment.

"Thank you." He doesn't look at me when he speaks but I can see his smile. "I don't think I've ever been given flowers before."

He sighs, obviously remembering bygone times.

"Did anyone ever give you gifts?" I quietly ask, not wanting to intrude too much into his thoughts.

He shrugs. "Not really. Only my family at Christmas and on birthdays. I remember some girl at school gave me a cupcake once. I don't know what for but it tasted really good. Chocolate I think."

"What about Bill?" I decide to probe a little deeper.

Izzy shudders and a dark cloud seems to descend over us. "He gave me nothing but heartache and left nothing but bruises."

I whisper, "I thought you loved him?"

Izzy's grip loosens on my hand and I feel him pull away slightly, as if his body is following his mind back to moment in time. That moment when Bill was his world.

"I did." His voice is quiet, hissing. "I really loved him. But I was just a toy to him. He made that very obvious when he told the whole school."

I decide that's enough for one day and pull him a little closer, my fingers brushing against his waist. He leans into my touch and my arm slides around his waist. I hold my breath, waiting for him to pull away. But he doesn't. He rests his head on my shoulder and I bend my head to kiss his hair, the gentle scent of strawberry shampoo wafting into my nose. He sighs and I feel happy and loved. Needed almost.

A shadow flits out from a side alley, catching my eye as it moves. A shudder crawls up my body and Izzy squeezes my hand. It's nothing, probably just a cat. Then I notice Izzy's body stiffen and the hackles on my neck rise. Izzy drops my hand and he snaps round.

"JUST FUCK OFF!" he screams. "FUCK OFF AND LEAVE ME ALONE!"

Quickly I swing round and there he is, in all his glory. Bill, the stalker of Hollywood. My muscles snap to attention and my hands ball into fists. But Izzy's already there, yelling into that smirking face.

"LEAVE ME ALONE BILL!" Izzy's hands come up and push Bill square in the chest.

Bill stumbles but stays standing, still smiling in that sinister way. His fingers reach out and brush over the collar.

"I see you're his pet now." That voice, so like Izzy's but so different, grates against my brain.

Izzy just sneers at him. "It's more than I ever was to you."

"You were everything to me Izz, fuckin' everything." Bill's eyes blaze as they stand nose to nose.

Izzy shakes his head, the sneer staying in place. "So why did you do what did, huh? You painted "Izzy's gay" in five foot high letters along the side of the gym. And you call me your everything?" Izzy spits in his face and I can't help but crack a smile. "How fuckin' dare you, Bill?! How dare you call me anything. How dare you touch me! How dare you come near me!"

I can't tear my eyes away as Izzy pulls his arm back and punches Axl in the face. It's nice, square hit, the evil bastard's head snapping to one side.

I can't help punching the air and yelling. "NICE ONE IZZY!"

Bill hits the ground and I wonder how much abuse it's going to take before he finally gives up. Not easily it looks as he drags himself to his feet, glaring at Izzy.

"You little shit," he hisses, hands clawing to grab hold of Izzy.

Izzy takes a practised step back, eyes never leaving Bill, never leaving his hands. He knows what's coming and knows how to avoid it. He knows that those fists hurt, that they leave marks and pain. Not just physical pain, but emotional pain. The pain of rejection, the pain of the other pupil's mocking laughter. Prodding and poking him, jeering, their comments cutting deeper than any knife could.

"Step away from me Bill." Izzy's hands come up defensively but it's not enough as Bill's fingers slip beneath the collar, dragging Izzy to him.

In a flash, Izzy's hands come and grab at Bill's hair, tearing clumps from his scalp. Bill's fingers tighten in the collar, as he desperately tries to drag Izzy with him. I want to jump in, want to help. I'm about to when Izzy lays the mother of all kicks into Bill's groin. Instantly, Bill lets go, howling in pain as he clutches his balls. His face turns red as he snarls at Izzy. Stepping back, Izzy takes my hand, leaning protectively against me. Tendrils of red hair hang limply from his fingers.

"I'm with Slash now Bill." His voice is oddly calm. "So just leave me alone."

Bill stares at us, still doubled over, venom in his eyes. "You're mine Izzy and I will have you back. You can keep your little pet for now but you'd better watch your fuckin' back Isbell. 'Cause I'm going to come for you. And when I do..."

The threat lingers as he slinks back into the shadows, a menace that won't disappear.