Five Finger Death Punch

Chapter Thirty-Two: Surprise

The anticipation was killing him. Chris waited for Ivan to tell him what he was going to do to him, but Ivan seemed too deep in thought and careful consideration.

“So, I can do whatever I want to you? Just have a field day with you, right?” the singer asked him, stroking his goatee.

“I remember saying sexual act, as in a singular act – not several.”

“Well that just makes it harder to decide!” he laughed, “There’s so many things I want to do to you!”

“Like what?”

“You’ll find out – when I decide,” he teased.

“You’re killing me, Ivan.”

Ivan hummed, picked the pug dog up off the floor in front of him, and put it in his lap. The dog immediately walked from his lap to Chris’s and he scoffed.

“So what are you into?” he asked the older man.

“I think the question is what are you into? It doesn’t matter what I’m into, because you won the bet,” Chris replied, “and honestly I’m scared. Heh-heh, ‘cause you’re nasty as hell in bed.”

The singer laughed. “Oh, I know you like it nasty.”

Chris shook his head and scratched the dog behind its ears. “You’re a cute puppy, aren’t you?” he said to it. The pug yawned. “Aw-ah-ah… So cute.”

Ivan leaned into him and kissed his cheek, so the bassist turned his head and let him kiss his mouth. “Are you vying for attention with a dog?”

“Do you like humiliation?” Ivan asked, ignoring his comment.

“Humiliation? Not really.”

“Hm.” Ivan sat back. “It’s at the bottom of the list of things I want to do anyways.” They sat quietly a second. “What about watersports?”

A smile broke out on the older man’s face. “Like pissing?”

“Yeah.” He smiled. Chris looked at him out of the corners of his eyes. “I wanna piss on your beard – just soak that thing.”

He hummed in consideration and scratched his facial hair.

“I’ve got crazier things in mind, though,” Ivan said, a peculiar smugness in his voice as he leaned back arrogantly.

“Like what?”

“You might just find out.”

“Come on…”

“Yeah…” Ivan nodded to himself. “I think I know what I wanna do.”

“What?”

“It’s a surprise!” He smirked at him.

“Fuck you, Ivan.” Chris shook his head.

“Come on now, crab cake.” He kissed his cheek again and stood up. “Don’t be sour. When do you wanna do this?”

“Anytime is good,” the bassist mumbled.

“Well I gotta get supplies first,” he said, “And finish polishing the details in my mind.”

“Supplies? What the hell are you gonna be doing that you need ‘supplies’ for? Bondage?” He asked.

“Nope.” Ivan strolled dramatically towards the door and plucked up his car keys. “I’m going to the store. I’ll be back shortly,” his voice dropped low, “and you better be ready when I get back.”

“Ivan, you better tell me what you’re gonna do,” Chris commanded.

“Toodle-oo!” He said happily, and then he exited the house with a cartoonish walk.