<span style="font-size: 15px"><span style="font-family:Open Sans">Niegel tasted Chrys without abandon, wishing for only a second that things could be different. Of course, he knew that they couldn't be. There were no other ways. His life was so fucked up at that point Niegel couldn't be happy with himself, much less give someone else a chance to love him in return. The next thing in return was getting revenge, regardless of if he felt sympathetic in some ways to the young man beneath him. It wouldn't save Chrys. He pulled away, trying to refocus and remember his purpose. It wasn't for pleasure, his own or any one elses. He wasn't here to make the young man like, or respond tenderly to him.<br/>
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“The first thing they did after our capture was humiliate us,” Niegel spoke evenly, wiping the spit from his lips, staring again with that faraway expression.<br/>
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“Be still,” Niegel warned, hoping his last bit of rage had spooked Chrys into compliance, more so for the boy's own well being. He didn't know what might set him off again. “I don't want to hurt you badly too soon.” Which alluded to him wanting to hurt him badly in the future.<br/>
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Still straddling Chrys, he unzipped the hoodie he was wearing as he watched the boy's face and all of his reactions. Realizing short of cutting the fabric off, it wasn't going to come easily, he lifted up to create space between his thighs where he could flip the young man onto his stomach and reach his bindings. He'd became hard after kissing Chrys, and that was painfully obvious even between both their layers of clothing. He pressed back down into him, against the young man's ass and pulled his hair back.<br/>
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“They never raped me in Afghanistan. They don't rape men. They prefer boys over there, but I'd seen it done, with young, attractive soldiers. I bet they would have liked you. Could you imagine what it was like for them, to know their brothers in arms were forced to watch?” Niegel petted his hand down the line of Chrys' back, liking the uncomfortable arch of it where he had his head wrenched back.<br/>
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“You met one of them. That handsome, happy blond with a crater in his face where someone carved out part of his cheek. He's older now, of course. You wouldn't have known anything had happened to him in not for the scar. He'd only been twenty or so, but he was a good kid. Just wanted to serve his country. He was one of the ones taken with me; one of the ones lucky, or unlucky enough to survive depending on how someone looked at it. They did awful things to him, all things your father is responsible for because he chose to hide when the going got rough. The kid tried not to cry, for our benefit.” Niegel wondered if Chrys would cry as he began pulling the fabric back. He had to let to of Chrys' hair to start undoing the ties at his back, and once finished, he attempted to pull the remaining clothing the rest of the way off, and over his head.</span></span>