Title: Dream Of The Raven.

Author: Kristina Q.

Disclaimer: Not mine! Life is so unfair! I want Roadie… such a pwetty man!

Distribution: Please ask. I’m very nice :)

Couple: Jesse James/Billy Gunn.

Warning: Profanity, male/male slash situations, violence, torture.

Rating: NC-17.

Notes: *** changes POV. This fic follows Fear Of The Raven and Return Of The Raven and is the third chapter for The Raven series.

***Jesse***

I slowly open my eyes. Everything is blurry. Darkness surrounds me. Only a dim light shining from a single candle not far from where I am lying. Where the hell am I? I’m unable to recognize this place.

I have a stinging pain in my forehead. I can feel little droplets of blood trickling down my temple. I try to reach and touch the cut, but that’s when I realize my hands have been cuffed. I try to get up; free myself, but it’s not possible.

I blink many times to make my vision clear while I desperately try to escape. I’m lying on some sort of wooden table. My arms are along my sides, cold metal fastened around my wrists. After a few minutes of struggling I hear something in the darkness. It sounds like a faint laughter… Someone’s there! Watching me. Amused.

I glance into the darkness, unable to see anything. After searching the darkened room I manage to see a shade. I can’t make out what it is exactly!

I hear the laughter again. Wicked and it’s coming from the shadow in the darkness! My chest is heaving quicker; my heartbeat has increased. A chill crawls down my spine. The laughter sounds familiar! But it can’t be…? Oh, God please don’t let it be true!

The shade takes a step towards me, revealing itself in the dim light. I close my eyes as I inhale a shuddering breath, hoping for him to be gone when I open my eyes again. He’s not. He’s still there, watching me with a strange gleam in his eyes. A sick twisted grin smeared across his face.

Another chill runs through me when he speaks to me, “Poor little Jesse…” he shakes his head and steps closer to me, “You look so frightened. But you don’t have to fear me… Oh no” again he laughs. He winks and run his fingertips over my right arm.

My body jerks at the sudden touch, instantly trying to get away from his prying touches. A protesting whimper escapes my lips. I wanna yell and scream at him, but I know it won’t do me any good!

“I won’t hurt you… very much” he smiles at me. I swallow hard and try to speak coherent but the fear is overwhelming me and all I manage is a strangled “Please…?”

“Is it possible? Has the ever so loud-mouthed Road Dogg gone silent?” his voice is like the sickest sound I’ve ever heard. Playing over and over again. Echoing in my head. Reminding me of all the pain he has put me, and the ones I love through.

I gasp when I can feel his fingers trailing over my clothed abdomen before moving further down to play with the button in my jeans. I swallow hard and I’m finally able to protest verbally.

“Leave me the fuck alone! Let me go and I swear I’ll kill you!” he doesn’t even react to my curses. Still just staring at me. Sick bastard!

“Jesse… you should know by now that I won’t just let you go… I like to play and you know what? I’m in the mood to play a little with you right now!” he whispers the last part of the sentence and I can feel my body tensing. He’s gonna kill me this time!

I feel a sharp pain on my jaw when he abruptly backhands me, my head snapping back. The back of my head hits the hard surface of the table and I nearly lose consciousness.

I can taste my own blood now.

The coppery taste is somewhat nauseating, reminding me of pain and fear. I dart my tongue out slowly. My lower lip has cracked.

***Scott***

He looks so beautiful like this. So vulnerable. Bleeding and in complete despair. Irresistible. I can only think of the many things I would like to do to him now! Probably too many to even mention. A few of the things are more appealing than the rest.

I glance over his beautiful form. So delicate. His bleeding lip. So alluring. It makes me wanna reach out to collect a drop of his sweet addictive blood with my finger. Or even better… lean down and kiss his tempting lips. Run my tongue over his throbbing lip.

I decide not to do any of the things. Instead I go to get a few things to have fun with. Just a few things to play with!

He doesn’t glance after me when I walk away from him. He is just lying there with his eyes closed. He’s trying to keep himself conscious. Poor Jesse. He doesn’t know what’s gonna happen to him. If I was him I’d rather be unconscious right now. On the other hand then I’d miss the pain!

I find my bag on the floor and kneel down to search through its contents. It should be here somewhere… oh, there it is. I pull my hand out again, holding a little sharp knife between my fingers. This knife can bring a lot of pain and pleasure!

I rise, turn and look at him again. Now he has opened his ocean blue eyes. Staring directly at me. Does he even know how beautiful he is? I slowly return to his side. Step by step. The fear is building in him. I can almost smell it. The sweet scent of fear.

I smile before I lay the knife on his chest. He glares down at it, eyes wide. He then looks at me, shaking his head, “No…” he swallows “Please… you can’t do this to me…” his voice is low and pleading. He’s begging for mercy. He’s already begging for mercy and I haven’t even begun yet! This could be interesting!

He looks so fucking hot like this!

I instinctively smile and reach out to trace my fingertips along his collarbone. I can feel him shudder beneath me. I know it’s caused by his fear, but I’m allowed to pretend it’s caused by a completely different reason. I get such a pleasure by watching him like this!

Without warning I move in to capture his sweet lips. Been so long since I’ve tasted him. I roughly dart my tongue out, parting his lips. Savoring the taste of blood mixed with his indefinable flavor. I enjoy the moment until it abruptly ends. The sound of metal connecting with the tiled floor.

I feel a sudden pain in my stomach. I stumble backwards, slightly gasping for air. The bastard somehow managed to knock his knee into my gut! He’s so desperate. I like it. But maybe I should have tied his legs. Oh, well… forget that. I’ll just do it now instead!

I slowly make my way down to the other end of the table, my eyes never leaving his gorgeous body. I try to grab his legs, but he’s constantly kicking after me, desperately trying to get me away from him. I laugh at this.

After a few failed tries I conclude that tying his legs when he’s like this would be impossible. Only one thing left for me to do then!

I move back, looking down at him. His eyes are so full of hatred. This hatred he feels towards me. I love it. I love him like this.

I circle around him for a long moment before I finally stop. I am now standing right next to his shoulder. I take a few seconds to admire him again before reach out to touch him again. He tries to avoid my touch by turning his face away from me. Instead of touching him, I use the opportunity to do something else.

His head snaps back once again, a loud cracking noise echoing through the room. Sickening. I look at my hand and then at his face. A large pink welt is developing on his cheekbone now. The punch has silenced him for a while. He isn’t moving. He’s blinking, trying to stay conscious.

I quickly move down to his feet again, this time managing to successfully tie him up. He’s all mine now. He can’t escape. Can’t fight.

I trail my hand up his leg, listening to his sharp intake of breath. My fingers travel over his thigh with an almost ghostly touch, moving further up. Across his crotch. I suddenly feel a bit disappointed now. He’s not even hard for me. Not that I expected him to be. He doesn’t like pain. He needs to enjoy the pain and then it will feel like the greatest pleasure on Earth. Such a shame he dislikes pain.

I kneel to pick up the knife from the floor. It fell to the floor when he kicked me.

He tenses again, his eyes wide. A sudden thought hits me. I need to make him silent! As much as I enjoy listening to his beautiful voice, I really don’t want anyone to hear him! I’ve gotta finish what I’ve started. And I’ll do it this time.

I return to my bag. I know I brought something to silence him. I pull out some duct tape. This can definitely be used! I turn around. He’s watching me. But what is that? His eyes are glassy. I think he’s on the verge of tears. Poor thing. If I had owned just a bit of sympathy for him then I might would have sedated him. But I really want to do this to him. I need to do this!

I rip off a nice piece of the tape and return to him. I stand for a long moment just to admire his face for the last time before I roughly cup his chin, forcing him not to move away again. I put the tape over his mouth to shut him up.

A protesting whimper escapes his throat. I can barely hear it. But I hear it.

I gently stroke my thumb over his cheekbone, savoring the sound of his breathing. Ragged with fear. My touch only makes it heavier. He’s so scared. So much fear. It makes him seem so cute.

Cute. A word I rarely use. But right now I think it suits him perfectly.

One final time I travel my fingertips across his clothed chest, drawing small whimpers from him. I stop when I reach the collar of his shirt. I tangle my fingers in the collar, lowering the little sharp knife. He holds his breath, closing his eyes preparing for the pain.

But instead of connecting the blade with his skin I cut through the fabric of his shirt. I watch him as he opens his eyes again, realizing that there is no pain. I can practically see the relief in his eyes. Don’t worry, Jesse. The pain will come. Just let me play now.

It takes me a brief minute to successfully cut his shirt open, pushing the fabric away from his exposed chest and stomach. His skin is so pale. Tattoos decorating his flesh various places. He’s so fucking sexy!

The temptation is too much for me. I’m drawn to his hot flesh. I bend towards him, gently kissing the area just above his navel. He flinches under the touch from my lips. I dart my tongue out to taste him. Addicting. I trail the tip of my tongue up to one pink nipple, lightly lapping at it. It hardens involuntary. He whimpers again.

I close my lips around the tight nipple, sucking at it carefully, almost lovingly. But that soon changes. His body jerks, a strangled moan ripping from his throat when I harshly sink my teeth into his flesh. I can taste the coppery liquid and I greedily suck on his throbbing nipple, desperate to taste his sweet blood.

I withdraw, gazing down at him. Eyes closed, fists clenched. I want to play some more. I know exactly how.

“Which word do you prefer, Jess?” his eyes flashes open, staring directly at me. He’s confused. I smile. “Which word, Jesse? Love? Or hate?” I don’t expect him to answer my question. I know he’s not able to. I made him silent. So I’ll choose for him.

“Hmmm… I bet you’d prefer love, right?” I grin at him before finally connecting the cold blade of the knife with his heated flesh. He tenses, shaking his head. I put pressure on the knife, moving it slowly.

His entire body twists on the wooden table. He’s instinctively pulling in the handcuffs, desperately trying to free himself. His attempt of escaping fails and I listen to his muffled screams as I cut through his skin. Blood trickles down his chest, silently dripping onto the table.

I continue, tearing through the pale skin on his chest. The muffled screams have been replaced with loud strangled whimpers, his body trembling violently against the pain. Several minutes of pain and pleasure passes. I watch. He bleeds. I indulge. He suffers.

“Love”

It suits him. But there’s something missing.

I place the bloodstained knife on his heaving chest again. Just below the newly created word. I start again, causing his body to twinge again. He’s sobbing now. Tears escaping his reddened eyes. Running like the blood.

He squeezes his eyes shut, banging his head back against the table when I push the knife deeper into his flesh. I carve the letters slowly in him, watching his body become more and more weak. He is lightly quivering now. I believe the pain has overwhelmed him.

I remove the knife. His eyes half lid. His chest is heaving heavily.

“Hate”

He can’t even focus his eyes on me anymore, blinking. Holding on. He closes his eyes. Before I can make myself stop I raise the knife, holding it tightly in my hand. And let it fall with all my strength. It pierces right through his throat, his eyes snapping open. He makes a noise. Something that sounds like a mixture of a sob and a groan. The blood spraying from his throat drowns his cries. One final attempt to struggle before his body slumps back. Lifeless.

Death suits him…

***

Billy Gunn was sitting by the hospital bed, looking at the sleeping form of his lover. A light stinging pain reminded Billy about the happenings the day before.

Jesse still hadn’t woken up. He should soon. That was what the doctors had said. Billy was hoping. Watching his lover and best friend like this was unbearable. The blood was boiling in Billy’s veins. The need to get revenge for everything Scott had put them all through. He was gonna kill Scott if he ever saw him again!

Little jerking moves from the still sleeping man brought Billy back to reality. The younger man was obviously dreaming. About what, Billy could only guess. Small whimpers escaping Jesse was a pure sign that he was not enjoying the dreams. He was having a nightmare. Billy winced mentally, not surprised why he would be having nightmares.

Billy reached out for the smaller man’s hand, holding it tightly. He carefully played with his limp fingers, waiting only for him to wake up. He was willing to sit by his side and wait forever.