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Ricky was spread out on the man's pure white bedsheets, and it wouldn't be the last time he would be. The best he could do anymore was lean his head back and moan, for he didn't feel the pleasure or the adrenaline from Justin's hands trailing up and down his body like a snake hidden in sand, or from the cool air of the bedroom hitting his small, fragile frame as the other man undressed him — he was in that same position so much that he became used to those feelings, those feelings of what was once satisfaction that was now pain, those feelings that brought him his darker thoughts nearly every night with the man that he had to call his bandmate.
Ricky choked out a little whine between the tears falling from his eyes, tilting his head to the side and adjusting to the feeling of Justin's lips sliding down his neck to his chest, to his stomach, to his cock that was slowly exposed from its clothing in hunger to hear him scream. Despite everything being done to him, the submissive boy just couldn't bring himself to enjoy it, for he didn't long for the one about to fuck him at all and nor has he ever. A shaky breath slipped from his lips as Justin slowly licked the tip to tease, though those efforts never made him hard or even react much anymore, making it clear that he was done with it all.
The times where Justin used Rick's body were the times that Ricky's memory reminded him of many things, for thinking about said things made the moments with Justin pass faster, and the faster Justin was done with him, the faster Rick could leave from the backdoor to be picked up by Ryan — by Ryan, his other bandmate, his other bandmate that he actually wanted to be with.
Ricky had bitten down on the skin of his knuckle as he thought about Ryan, wishing that it was him that was sucking on his cock right now rather than Justin, and wishing that he would one day save him from the bassist licking him there without even asking for consent — the word consent made the boy cry in front of Justin more than he wanted to just because of that.
The little moans he let out were almost lifeless due to how much he didn't mean them, but he had to make some sort of noise to satisfy Justin to be let go for another day or two. Justin liked to call him his "little prince" just for ownership purposes, and every time he said it made Rick's blood boil.
He didn't want to be Justin's prince, but he wanted to be Ryan's kitten.
"How did I even get myself into this mess..?" was what the boy asked himself every time he was against Justin's mattress, which was a question he probably couldn't ever answer for himself — he never found himself attracted to Justin the way Justin thought he was, and he also never even made any gesture that even slightlysuggested that he wanted to be railed the way he always was.
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