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He coughed through his mouth, blood trickling from his nose as he covered it with his arms. He touched his teeth with his tongue, as if trying to confirm that he still had them all, that the blow hadn't knocked any out.
He had Viktor on the floor of his house. His parents? They were on vacation. They had money and didn't mind going away every now and then. Viktor, on the other hand, was poorer.
Igor would describe him as inferior to himself. He felt pleasure every time Viktor asked him for money. He genuinely needed it to live. He had argued with his parents and worked a low-paying, part-time security guard job.
Igor raised his leg, kicking Viktor in the stomach. Viktor quickly moved his arms, which were still covering his face to his belly, his body buckling forward as he whimpered in pain.
"Did I tell you that you could cover your face?" He asked, grabbing the dark-haired man's curly hair and punching him again in the nose, but his arms remained across his stomach, his eyes closed and bruised.
Igor waited for an answer but only heard small moans, the same as those of his first victim, the man they killed with a hammer who groaned in pain.
"Hold your hands behind your back," Suprunyuk ordered. He wasn't playing games, he knew Viktor would do it instantly. Sometimes he took too long, sometimes he hesitated, and he didn't like it when people doubted his orders.
His arms moved slowly, and he grabbed one wrist with one hand, keeping the other tightly closed, his eyes squeezed shut like a battered dog.
Igor's dirty sneakers pressed hard against his stomach. Viktor leaned forward onto his friend's leg. It was too much pressure, too much, but his hands didn't move. He wasn't trying to push him away, he knew he had to endure it but he couldn't even understand why.
Why not another victim? Ever since that old man was killed in the woods, Igor changed. Before, he extended his violence to animals, but once he killed a person, he began to abuse Viktor.
Viktor let out a noticeable groan when Igor released the pressure and then reapplied it, this time harder, pulling him from his thoughts.
Vomiting burned his throat and spilled from his mouth, landing on Igor's pants, which quickly moved his leg away.
"Fuck! What the fuck?!" He screamed and lifted Viktor's head again. His gaze was empty, tears still streaming from his eyes, as he struggled to breathe through his broken nose.
Igor punched him again in the face, this time finally sending him crashing to the ground. His hands gave out, and he clutched his head again.
Viktor opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out, only more moans. He wanted to apologize for vomiting on Igor, but his vision was blurry.
When he tried to rub his eyes to see through his tears, he felt Igor grab his hair again and force him to his knees.
He forced his face into his shoe, which was covered in vomit, a mixture of poorly digested lentils and rice. Words were rarely spoken, but Igor's hands made his intentions obvious, revealing what he wanted.
He stuck out his tongue and began licking the shoe. Already thinking about how Igor would surely remind him how expensive his pants were later while hitting him on the car
Igor loved reminding him how he always rode in his car, ate his food, lived off his money, lived off Igor, and it was hard for Sayenko to admit it.
He had to endure the shame of going to buy makeup because of the bruises he left on his skin, bruises he saw in the mirror every time he showered.
Bruises that now covered his face.
Viktor started taking off his work uniform. He'd almost gone on sick leave. He didn't know how many times he'd used the excuse of being ill, but the truth was his body ached so much that moving was torture in the mornings.
"Your girlfriend needs to chill out, man" a coworker said, looking at his neck. Sayenko quickly covered the bruise with his hand and looked down. Had he forgotten to cover up a bruise on his neck?
"Yeah," Viktor replied with an awkward laugh, grabbing his backpack and hurrying to the exit.
He arrived home after walking for a while and, with tears in his eyes, stared at himself in the mirror as he began removing his makeup with a wet wipe.
He knew he had to tell Igor to stop. It was only getting worse. It had gone from slaps for not wanting to clean the new garage he'd bought to outright torture where he was kicked so many times he ended up vomiting.
But instead of blocking Igor, or telling him to go to hell, he found himself opening the drawer where he hid his pills.
He started taking them one by one. At first, he had a brief feeling of happiness, which quickly turned into a mental breakdown in which he began to cry intensely. He didn't want to live, he didn't want to face Igor, he couldn't take it anymore.
Minutes or maybe hours passed, but all he could remember was that he ended up opening his phone and calling Igor, crying.
"I hate you... I hate you. I wish you were dead," Viktor said, sobbing, while Igor asked him why the fuck was he saying all of this on call, confused. Viktor was barely understandable. How many pills had he ended up taking? Was it 20 or more?
He hung up and curled up in a ball on the floor. He closed his eyes, waking up a little while later. He checked the time, barely 20 minutes had passed since he called Igor.
He got on his knees trembling and eventually crawled to the pills, taking two more along with a bottle of water, and heard the door open. He completely forgot that Igor had a copy of his house key.
He moved his hands to try and hide the pills in the drawer, several of them falling to the floor, it was too hard to do it being so high.
He felt a hand grab his hair and pull him to the floor onto his back. Igor was picking up one of the pill boxes from the floor. “Benzos? Is this what made you call me screaming?”
Call him screaming? Viktor couldn't remember that, nothing he had done before.
"Get up, we're going to make you throw up," Igor said, grabbing his weak arm and leading him to the bathroom. He watched as Viktor stumbled and almost fell, but Igor's strength held him up.
"You're going to tell me now why you took that," he whispered in his ear as he placed him in front of the toilet and squeezed his cheeks with one hand, forcing his mouth open. "When you're done throwing up."
His fingers entered Viktor's mouth, they were salty and dirty. His eyes began to water again once the tips of the fingers touched the end of his tongue.
The vomit began to burn his throat, and finally, he started to vomit. Igor's hand moved to hold Viktor's forehead as he vomited, a rare display of affection from Igor.
Viktor's consciousness slipped away again without warning. When he opened his eyes, he saw Igor running his tongue along his chin, up to his lips, and licking them.
He moved his hands, pressing them against Igor's chest, pulling him back until they were close enough to look each other in the face. Igor licked his own lips.
"Did you kiss me? What happened?" Viktor asked, confused. His nose hurt terribly, and he didn't understand why, what had happened. His life was a complete chaos at that moment.
“Don’t touch me,” Igor repeated, raising his arm and punching him in the nose again. Blood trickled down, and Viktor winced, his back pressed against the old bathroom wall.
“How many times have I told you already? Put your hands behind your back,” Igor instructed again, and Viktor obeyed automatically, clutching his wrists. “I’m not being harsh with you right now because you’re a fucking drug addict.”
Viktor wasn’t a drug addict, he truly believed that, but deep down he could remember those trembling nights wanting to take pills. It was a clear sign of his addiction.
Viktor’s girlfriend had tried to help him quit before… Rita. They barely spoke of her, Igor hated her.
“Vitya, your blood tastes so good,” he said, caressing his cheek and slightly slapping him every time Viktor closed his eyes, not wanting him to drift back to unconsciousness.
Sayenko opened his eyes nervously when his friend leaned in again and licked his lips once more, but he didn't stop there. His tongue slipped inside his lips, licking his teeth.
In Viktor's mind, this had to be the drugs. Maybe he'd died of an overdose, and this was hell.
His mouth gave way, his teeth slowly parting, and their tongues meeting. Viktor closed his eyes, seeing that Igor's were closed too. The taste of his own blood in Igor's mouth was different from other times he'd tasted it.
His arms remained behind his back, unable to move. He didn't understand why Igor was so obsessed with forcing him to keep his hands away from whatever it was he was doing to him. He wasn't even tying him up.
Igor stepped back after a few seconds and looked at Sayenko in the eyes, both hands on his shoulders, preventing him from falling to the side or forward. He was still affected by the pills.
He licked his upper lip and put his tongue back in his mouth, their tongues meeting again. The air was silent, heavy. The taste of blood had faded several seconds ago, but there they were, still together.
…
“He saved me,” Viktor whispered to himself while eating breakfast the morning after the bathroom incident.
Viktor’s head was still spinning, it ached terribly. When he woke up that morning, Igor had vanished. He barely remembered what had happened, only how Igor had forced him to vomit the 50 pills he’d taken and then kissed him on his blood-filled mouth.
Viktor had wanted to separate from Igor ever since they killed each other that first time. He never understood why Igor did all this to him, but this time was different. Igor had saved his life, he probably would have died if it hadn’t been for him.
Igor paid for his food, for half of his monthly rent. Igor wasn’t so bad, he just hit him, right? at least he was not alone, at least he had someone, he didn't wanted to be alone
Viktor opened his phone to send Igor a text message. He was too embarrassed to ask if what had happened yesterday was real.
The rest of the day was normal. He went back to work and had to continue hiding the new bruises he found on his body.
but then the night arrived. As he was leaving, a car honked, making him jump. He looked back and saw an arm sticking out of a window, Igor.
“You’ve never picked me up from work,” Viktor said, getting into the passenger seat. Igor wasn’t looking at him, his gaze was fixed on driving.
“I’ve been feeling generous tonight,” Igor replied, noticing that Viktor’s face wasn’t bruised at all. he concealed them with makeup. “You should quit your job.”
Sayenko looked up when he heard his friend say that. “I won’t have the money to pay my part of the apartment,” he replied.
“I’ll pay everything for you. We’ll live together.”
Viktor fell silent after hearing those words from his best friend. Living together, Igor always talked about how much he hated that, how much he hated the idea of ending up living with a girl. Why was it different now?
They arrived at Viktor’s house, and he noticed some boxes on the floor. Igor had already started moving things around before picking him up from work.
Somehow, he had grown accustomed to all of this, so much so that he watched Igor wander around the house unpacking his things, wondering when he would start hitting him, when he would start abusing him.
“Will we sleep on the same bed?” Viktor asked after several minutes of Igor just wandering around the house and now putting clothes in the closet. He was making a mess inside.
There was no response from the blond hair man, and Viktor fell silent, picking up his phone and starting to text Rita.
"Is that Rita?" Igor asked when he saw him typing, approaching the bed where Viktor was sitting.
He didn't wait for a reply, he grabbed Viktor's hair and dragged him to the closet, throwing him inside and watching as Viktor quickly sat down and looked up at him, confused.
"You're staying here until I open the door again," Igor said, closing the door and walking out of the room.
The silence grew heavy after several minutes. Curiosity began to get the better of him. He had always obeyed Igor in everything, never resisted when he started abusing him. but now he wanted to get out, he felt the withdrawals starting, he needed to get high.
He stretched out his arm and opened the door just enough to peek outside. He wasn't in the room, but he was at the kitchen table, so close. Viktor was only thinking about the pills in his drawer. If only he could take ten, he'd forget everything again, like that day. He wanted to feel that way again.
Slowly, he crawled out of the closet and went to the drawer. Opening it, sweat dripped from his forehead as he moved the books inside, trying to find the pills, but there was nothing. He needed to get high right then and there, he felt like he was out of breath.
Without warning, Viktor felt a hammer hit his head, making him fall to the floor in pain. The spot where he'd been hit was bleeding. Before he could even look up
"Can't you follow basic orders?" Igor asked as he raised the hammer again.
"Every time you"
The hammer fell, striking Viktor's ankle. The bones broke, it sounded like shattering glass.
Viktor opened his mouth to scream, but the pain was so intense that only vomit came out, he began coughing, choking on it.
“Do this shit”
He raised the hammer again and struck Viktor’s already broken ankle once more, pushing it away and gripping the other one tightly.
“I feel like you don’t really love me.”
He delivered another heavy blow, breaking the other ankle. He turned his head to check on Viktor. He was trembling and crying from the pain. There had been many times before, but never like this.
“Because I do love you very much,” Igor said with a smile as he leaned closer to Viktor’s face and cupped it in his hand, licking his cheek and eye, tasting his salty tears.
Viktor opened his eyes and looked at him, still crying uncontrollably. Then he saw them, a packet of pills in Igor’s hand. Instinctively, he reached for them.
He already needed them, but now, with the pain, it was torture not being drugged until he had a blackout.
"Ah, ah, you want them?" Igor asked, taking them away from his sight and out of his hands. He moved his free hand to Viktor's forehead to force him to stay lying on the floor. "How bad?"
“BAD, REAL BAD!” he screamed from the bottom of his lungs, causing a hard punch to his already broken nose, but it wasn't as if the pain of the punch was any greater than the pain in his ankles.
Igor finally got up and threw the pills on the floor. It took him no more than two seconds to start opening the packets and chewing the pills without a drop of water.
Igor approached where several pills were laying on the floor that Viktor was trying to eat and stepped on them, crushing them to dust. He watched as Viktor crawled around in tears, licking the dust from the floor. It tasted so bad it made him want to vomit again.
“Does it hurt that much?” He asked sarcastically as he pulled a pack from his back pocket and lit a cigarette.
Viktor finished swallowing the pills, his mind beginning to feel the effect, the pain in his ankles subsiding significantly.
He looked up at Igor, who was still smoking while staring at his ankles.
"Now you really won't be able to work again," he said proudly as he slowly got on his knees and gently stroked one of the broken ankles, making Sayenko groan in pain.
Viktor was still replaying the blows with the hammer... Did Igor love him? Someone like him? Why would anyone want someone like him?
“I do love you too,” Viktor said between sobs, instantly capturing Igor’s attention. Igor moved closer to his face and cupped it in his hands.
At that moment, he noticed the blond man moving closer to his face, to his mouth. He wondered if he was going to kiss him like that time in the bathroom. Part of him hated the mere thought of any physical contact with Igor, but the other part strangely wanted it.
He closed his eyes, thinking he would kiss him again, and opened his mouth, only to feel an overwhelming heat on his tongue. He quickly turned his head and spat out the cigarette ash, looking at Igor through his tears.
“I’m not lying!” He said between sobs as he watched Igor laugh at his reaction to thinking he was going to be kissed. his tongue still burning. “I’m not-”
suddenly viktor felt him grab his head again and force it to the ground, then lean in and kiss him.
“Don’t open your mouth. I’m not going to kiss you after putting the cigarette out on your tongue” Suprunyuk whispered once he noticed the dark haired boy opening his mouth, intending to join their tongues once again.
“Please,” Viktor begged, clutching Igor’s shirt tightly. He hadn’t taken enough pills to have a blackout, so why was he begging to kiss him?
The two stared at each other for a few seconds, and Igor finally gave in and their lips met again. Viktor was easy to break.
Saliva trickled down Viktor's chin as he remained lost in the kiss.
Igor pulled away after a few seconds to catch his breath. He seemed a little disgusted by the kiss, and Viktor could see it in his eyes.
"I'm not gay, Vitya. I just enjoy hurting you" he said, wiping the saliva from his lips with his wrist.
Those words felt like a knife to Viktor's gut. His mind tried to ignore them at the time, as if he wanted to believe Igor was simply in denial, as if he truly loved him.
His mind raced as he stared blankly into the closet. Several hours had passed since Igor had broken his ankles and spoken those words. His wrists were tied behind his back with rope, too tightly bound, and it hurt.
Tears began to fall from his eyes, not from the still-shaking pain in his ankles, not from the pain of the bruises on his arms or wrists, but from the words Igor had spoken to him.
A part of him was beginning to grasp a fundamental truth within his mind:
"I will only be loved if I am hurt." And when those words took hold of Viktor's mind, he began to genuinely believe it, that Igor would stop loving him if he didn't abuse him.
So he simply accepted his fate, the fate of knowing that Igor would end up killing him someday. Maybe he would hit him too hard on the head, or maybe he would suffocate him.
He would accept it if it meant he could be with Igor longer two months, two years, it didn't matter as long as he was loved after each act of abuse, as a reward for having endured it.he did not wanted to be left alone
It was true love.