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Lyle tried to swallow around the lump of guilt and regret in his throat.
“I… umm…” Lyle stuttered to a halt. He didn’t know what to say. He let out a long, low sigh, and tipped his head back with his eyes closed.
“Let’s just figure out how the fuck we get out of this mess and we can go from there, hey?” Colt’s voice cut through his burning, tumbling, sinking shame.
He lowered his head and dared to shoot a gaze to his Prez. The man who had come after him, despite the number of times Lyle had pushed him away, gone against his wishes, talked back, undermined him in public. The man who had rescued him and sent him to rehab, the man who had first called out the ill treatment against him. The only man to stop and see Lyle. To say, hey, need a hand, buddy? Colt. And Lyle had treated him with nothing but derision. Lyle had been nothing but an ungrateful little shit. But there he was. Colt’s brown eyes staring straight back at him. His face beaten up, but hope in his eyes. Always, fucking ridiculous, against all odds type of hope.
Oh fuck it. Once more, into the fray then. With Colt by his side this time. Maybe things would actually work out better if Lyle stopped fighting Colt. Huh, it didn't take a genius. He should have figured that out ages ago. He resigned himself to let go. Let go of the ropes that held him captured in his own anger and rage. His own hurt. To let go of his own hell. And join Colt.
“I… yeah,” Lyle managed to croak back.
Colt didn’t smile but something on his face changed. A warmth, a softening. Lyle felt the sudden urge to cry.
He cleared his throat instead, and sniffed his runny nose.
“Any ideas?” Colt asked, all business again.
Lyle’s eyes gazed around the room, at Colt, also bound, also wearing his cut.
“You have your phone on you?” Lyle asked, assuming the answer would be no.
Colt winced but his eyes sparkled. Lyle frowned.
“Not my phone, but in the punch up Titan’s phone slipped out of his pocket… I took my eye off his fists to grab it…”
Lyle’s eyes went wide. “You got it?”
Colt smirked now. “Sure thing, Big Papa Bear, I got it. Though it’s in my briefs, but-”
“Fucking perfect!” Lyle said jubilantly. His spirit soared.
“Shhh!” Colt hissed and threw a glance at the door.
Lyle scrunched up his face, which ached a lot less now. “Right, sorry-”
“Now, I know April’s number, we could call her, get her to mobilize the rest of the MC-”
Lyle shook his head. “Colt… I’ve got a better idea… who to call.” Lyle bit his lip and looked down. He almost laughed at how this had all played out. How had he gotten here?
Colt shrugged. “Okay, well, who? ‘Cause I thought April could tell Blue and maybe get Carmelo involved then, too…” he trailed off when he saw Lyle almost laughing. “What’s so funny?”
Lyle sighed. “Okay… if you weren’t going to kill me before, you will now.”
Colt’s face went thunderous. “Fucking what?”
“Give me the phone,” Lyle said.
Colt pursed his lips, clearly debating whether he should. Lyle looked on, holding his hand out.
Colt blinked. “Get it yourself. It’s in my briefs next to my cock.” Colt raised his eyebrows. Almost challenging Lyle.
Well fucking fine, Lyle had seen enough cocks recently, what was one more?
With his bound hands, he shuffled closer to Colt, who gave him a wary look, before also bum-shuffling himself closer to Lyle, giving him easier access.
Lyle had to jam both hands down Colt’s trousers. Colt flinched involuntarily when Lyle skimmed past his cock.
“Fuck me, if you’d have told me a week ago I’d be on the floor, tied up, with my hands down your pants-”
