Six Thousand Five Hundred Miles

"It's hard to lighten up when your being kidnapped." Mike said, glaring over at Harris. "And I'm not a buttercup..." He grumbled with a roll of his eyes.

"I told yeh, yer not bein' kidnapped!" Harris frustratedly said. "Yeh and I are travelin' buddies!"

Mike gave him a look. "You threatened to take my legs if I didn't cooperate!" He exclaimed with a glare. He huffed and crossed his arm, his shirt riding up a little to reveal a little skin of his abdomen and gorgeous hips.

Harris found his eyes drawn to Mike's stomach but looked away. This kid was his sons age, to young for Harris to do anything with. Besides, what would Mike see in an old assassin like him. Compared to many on the job he was old.

When they arrived at their hotel room, Mike looked at Harris. "I'm taking a shower." he murmured and slipped off his shirt, not caring if Harris saw him naked or not. He was used to it.

Harris' eyes about buldged out of his head. He had been with multiple people but something about Mike was more gorgeous than any of them. He cleared his throat and nodded, "I'll...uh...be here..."

"Uh huh." Mike murmured as he unbuttoned his figure hugging jeans and struggled to get the zipper undone. He went over to Harris. "Wanna undo the zipper, I think it's stuck." He said, pointing to the zipper of his jeans.

Harris took a gulp, helping Mike unzip his jeans. He wanted nothing more than to fondle the young man, have him begging to be underneath him. But he knew that in Mike's mind, he was kidnapped. Doing anything like that would constitute as rape and while he was dumb enough to kidnap one of Orton's boys, he was not dumb enough to rape one.

"Thanks." Mike murmured before stepping back and shimming the pants off, revealing his little thong that he wore for easy access when he had clients. He slipped off the thong and tossed it else wear, he lacy garment unknowingly landing at Harris's feet. He wrapped a towel around his waist before going into the bathroom.

As soon as he was out of the room, Harris practically dove to grab his thong. He tucked it in with his things, knowing he would be making a trip to the bathroom later to make sure Mike couldn't accidentally walk in on him relieving hismelf.

Mike finished his shower and came back out to the room. He slipped on his cloths, not even noticing his thong was missing. He was used to sometimes not wearing underwear so he didn't even notice. When he finished he sat on the bed and filed his nails quietly.

Harris was silent, unsure of what to say before finally speaking up. "How did a hot piece a' ass like yerself become one of Orton's bitches?"

Mike blinked up at him, a little taken aback by the question. He shook his head an recomposed himself. "Long story." He murmured, going back to work on his nails.

"Answer the question," smirked Harris, sitting back against the headboard on teh other bed.

Mike glared. "Long story short, I ran away as a kid and here I am." He said bluntly before paying attention to his nails.

Harris nodded, realizing his company wasn't wanted so he sat on the bed, trying to understand the television station that was playing.

After a while, Mike glanced at Harris. "I fought with my father a lot." He finally said, his eyes glue to his nails and the filer.

"Doesn't every man," Harris laughed, "Usually most men have a love/hate relationship with their father..."

Mike shook his head. "My father loathed me. He caught me kissing another boy in my room when I was 14... And he just hated me." He sighed, still looking down at his nails. "So, he started to hit me." He said lowly, not looking up at the other man.

"Well that's low. And this is coming from the man who left his kids because he was afraid that they would turn out ot be like him."

Mike nodded. "Yeah.. So when I was 15, my father got really drunk. He sexually assaulted me and uh, I ran away from home before he could go any further." He whispered, still looking down.

Harris shook his head, crossing over to where Mike was sitting and patting him on the shoulder, "Hey, what he did ain't yer fault. He was a sick freak who probably couldn't admit his own feelin's about men."

Mike scoffed. "I'd just rather forget he ever existed." he muttered, putting his nail filer away. "So I became a prostitute to earn money. And here I am. Kidnapped." He said with a flat look.

Harris sighed, "Look, I'm sorry. But I dunno if yeh were tellin' the truth about Carter or not..."

Mike just rolled this eyes. "Whatever. I just wanna get this over with..." He sighed, laying down on the bed. There was only one bed, so they'd have to share, much to Mike's dismay.