“who the fuck did this to you?”
Mick glanced down at the dark marks on his body, the welts that still throbbed, the sharp red marks that ached with every passing second.
“My Master did,” Mick smiled, his fingers moving to the bruise on his throat, fingers slowly grazing over the hickey, pressing into the bruise, feeling the warm ache spread through his body.
It had been a long time since they’d been together - him and Quinn. Master had granted him permission to spend his evening how he liked, and he could think of no better way than getting high with his Babe. It had been a long time since he’d been in Toronto, since he’d been high. New York was a different life completely. Mickey had to be polite and respectful, act like someone he wasn’t.
“They make me feel better,” He said softly, “Like I’m alive, like I’m not some pathetic sub who can’t stand up for himself.” His fingers moved to a dark red mark on his chest, running over the whip line softly.
“I still fight sometimes,” He smirked, hand moving over the red mark firmly. “I don’t make it easy,” He chuckled, glancing up to her eyes, to her blonde hair, blue eyes. Gorgeous.
“You don’t make it easy either.” He pointed out softly, his hand moving to push her blonde her behind her ear.
“I love you, Babe.” He’d never said those words before. Never said them to anyone but his Master. He didn’t know where they’d come from. She could never be his. He could never be hers. But they’d always had a connection. The Mouse and the Babe. Mouse and Babe.
Once upon a time, they’d nearly had a child.
Maybe once upon a time they would.
Mick never wanted his DNA passed on. Quinn was as close to him as he’d ever find.
Quinn smiled back at him. She hesitated for a moment, nervous.
“I love you, Mouse,”
And everything was right with the world.
Mick drew her in for an embrace, kissing the top of her head.
“Don’t forget it,” He smirked.
