#because vincent really likes strawberries

Happy (very belated) Toxin Day everyone! You remember Toxin Dayby@whump-of-the-month? ;) Yes, it was in April. Yes, I also know it’s June now. But I’m glad I got something done in the end, so… enjoy, whatever this is XD

A huge thank you goes to @b0amagination for their help in so many ways, their inspiration, motivation - everything, actually. Without you, this chapter wouldn’t exist <3

CW: alcohol (and the consequences of drinking too much of it), implied emeto, poisoning, mention of broken bones and jaw wired shut, implied mouth sewn shut, and the usual creepy/intimate whumper 

masterlist

~*~

“That’s enough for today,” Vincent purred as he entered the study. His hands snuck under Jonah’s armpits to hug him from behind, making him tense up immediately.

“Don’t…”

“Oh, you don’t want me to remove your handcuffs…?” he teased, tugging at the short chain threaded through the ring in the middle of the tabletop. “Alright, didn’t know you were up for that again yet, but I definitely remember the way your eyes glazed over that first night you came over to visit me… and decided to stay…”

“I didn’t decide to stay, you-”

“Playing coy again, aren’t you? Darling, you don’t need to put on a show for me, I love you just the way you are…”

“Get your hands off me!”

“No….no, I think I won’t…”

And indeed, Vincent’s hands kept exploring Jonah’s body, slipped under his shirt, pulled it up so he could touch his chest, his protruding ribs, his nipples… All the while, the younger one kept fighting the cuffs in a desperate attempt to fight him off.

“Anyway,” Vincent suddenly relented, stretched out his arm to unlock the handcuffs, and stepped back with his hand held out for Jonah to take. “Let’s have dinner, shall we?”

“If you say so…”

Vincent’s hand remained empty.

“Come on. Don’t you want to eat?”

“You’re not going to give me something decent anyway, are you?”

“Have I ever not given you something decent?”

“Do you want me to recall every single time you did?”

“No. I’ll just give you a perfect example now.”

“Yeah, I’m already so excited to find out what that might be…”

“Are you fucking kidding me???”

Jonah stopped dead in his tracks and stared at the kitchen table which was empty except for a large bowl of strawberries.

“Sit down.”

“Where’s our actual dinner?”

“I’ll grab it later. Have a few strawberries while we wait,” Vincent smiled, picked up the bowl, and set it down right in front of him.

Jonah kept staring at the bowl as if it was going to bite him. 

“I’ve had my fill of those–at least for the rest of my life.”

“Oh, maybe it won’t be too long till we reach that point,” Vincent grinned and turned around to leave the room.

“Wait-what?!”

“I’ll tell you if you try some of the strawberries.”

“No, thank you. I still remember the last time I had them.”

“Yeah, you got kidnapped, or that’s what your stupid brain keeps telling you anyway,” the older man laughed.

“Because that’s exactly what happened. And I didn’t like it. At all.”

“I had the impression you liked what I did to you… a lot.”

“Shut- shut it, you-”

“Strawberry?” Vincent smiled innocently, holding one of them out to Jonah, close to his lips.

“NO!”

“Eat it, or I’ll shove it down your throat.”

“You better n- hmpffffff!”

“Tasty, isn’t it? Want another one?”

“What is this all about?!”

“You earning your dinner!”

“If I have to earn it by eating strawberries I’d rather skip dinner…”

“Let’s see if we can get you to change your mind…”

He turned around to see Vincent leave the room just to return a few minutes later, carrying a large tray with 5 different drinks on it–long drinks, fancy cocktails, and something that looked a lot like the cookies and cream frappuccino they had at the coffee shop he used to work at. 

“You’ll get dinner if you manage to find out which one of these is poisoned.”

“I’ll stick to my first decision: I’m skipping dinner.”

“Oh, come onnnnnn… stop being such a killjoy! It’s really easy; you just have to close your eyes and rely on your sense of taste. That’s something I absolutely trust you with, so the risk you’re taking is rather small…”

“Are you actually trying to convince me to drink something you literally poisoned?”

“Yes!” Vincent beamed and put the tray down in front of Jonah.

“What if I refuse?”

He pulled a small vial out of his pocket and held it up so Jonah could see it; he wasn’t able to make out the tiny inscription, but the hazard symbol was unmistakable.

“If you refuse, I will add a few drops of this to every meal you get in the future.”

“So I basically have the choice between starving and being poisoned?”

“No, my lovely turtledove - you’ve got the choice between starving, being poisoned, and enjoying some fancy drinks.”

“Fancy drinks that are poisoned as well.”

“Just a little. And only one of them.”

“Wow, I’m so relieved…”

“Hey! You’re the one who keeps complaining about the food and drinks I give you, but now that I want to give you a little treat you’re still whining…”

“Poisoned drinks can’t be considered treats.”

“Only one of them is poisoned.”

“That’s one too many.”

“Listen: if I give you a treat, I want you to cherish that. Taste the ingredients. Feel the texture. Be mindful.”

“I’ll do that. You don’t need to poison me,” Jonah tried to convince him, nodding eagerly. Maybe being a bit more compliant would help…

“I want to make sure you will. See if I can trust you next time.”

“You- you can trust me, really, you can-”

“Hey, hey, hey! Hey. Breathe. Can you do that for me?”

He leaned back, closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths.

“Good boy.”

“Don’t‘good boy’ me!” he hissed.

“Oh, believe me when I say you want to be a good boy for me, darling. If you’re not, I’m going to punish you and you don’t want that either, do you?”

Before Jonah could even react, another strawberry was unceremoniously shoved into his mouth making him choke.

“Stop that!” he coughed, gasping for air.

“Want a drink?” Vincent grinned nonchalantly. 

Jonah finally managed to catch his breath and leaned back in the chair.

“Not gonna happen,” he rasped.

“Okay Jonah,” the older man purred, leaning over the table so his and Jonah’s noses almost touched. “I gave you a choice - I actually still do. You’ll either pick one of the drinks now, or I’ll have to remind you of what I am capable of… You remember what happened to you in the past whenever you disobeyed me, don’t you? And you don’t want these things to happen again, hm?”

Two fingers lifted the younger one’s chin, forcing him to look up into the dark eyes of his captor.

“Do you remember having your jaw wired shut? Do you remember how that felt?”

His fingers traced Jonah’s jawline as he spoke, applying the tiniest bit of pressure.

“You weren’t able to tell me, of course, but judging by how often you cried and pressed your hand against your jaw you must’ve been in a lot of pain… I can do that to you again if you keep being so stubborn…”

Vincent’s fingertips moved on to Jonah’s lips.

“I could even make it worse, my sweet turtledove… I could sew your mouth shut, just like Domenic did… I’d take my time though, placing each stitch exactly where I want it to be, wipe the blood off your lips whenever I push the needle through your sensitive skin, omitting only a tiny spot in the middle, just big enough for a straw to pass through so you can enjoy those tasty protein shakes you love so much… I’d be way more considerate than Domenic of course, I could never disfigure you the way he did… And I’d make sure you’d look absolutely cute… I think I’d use a light blue thread to seal your lips, arranging the stitches in a beautiful pattern while your blood keeps turning the blue into a deep dark red-”

“Stop it!”

Jonah clenched his fists and turned his head around to finally get out of Vincent’s grip.

“All you have to do is choose a drink and describe what it tastes like,” the other man replied, raising an eyebrow.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yes, for fuck’s sake, it can’t get worse anyway.”

With that, he reached for the glass right in front of him which contained a clear liquid, crushed ice, mint leaves, and lime and took a sip.

“Go on,” Vincent encouraged him.

Putting the glass down, Jonah looked up.

“What do you mean, go on? I did what you wanted me to.”

“What does it taste like?”

“It tastes like a goddamn mojito!”

Vincent sighed and put his hands on Jonah’s shoulders, applying just enough pressure to hold him down.

“Be more specific, please?”

“Rum, sugar cane juice, lime juice, soda, mint - also known as mojito.”

“Anything else?”

“What do you mean?”

“Are you sure you didn’t miss any ingredients?”

“Did I miss the poison?” Jonah snarled and pushed the glass aside.

“Who knows? If you don’t want to finish your drink, why don’t you try another one? The frappuccino, maybe?”

“Absolutely not!”

He aggressively reached for another cocktail glass and took a big gulp that left him coughing.

“..the hell is that?!”

“I think you are the one who’s going to tell me,” Vincent smirked.

“You really want to kill me, don’t you?”

“Of course not! As long as you do what I say, you won’t get harmed. Well, not more than necessary…”

“Harming me has never been necessary.”

“Jonah, we both know this isn’t true. You need me to correct you. And I’ve never done anything that’s been uncalled for.”

“Yeah, everything you did was entirely justified, just a shock here and there, a little poisoning now and then…”

“Maybe it is poisoned, maybe it’s not..,” Vincent chanted.

“Stop that!”

“You haven’t completed your task yet.”

“I don’t know what it is.”

“Take another sip and be mindful this time.”

“I’m not gonna drink that again!” he spat, pointing at the reddish cocktail in front of him.

“Yes, you will.”

“NO!”

Vincent dashed forward, grabbed Jonah’s jaw and pressed his thumb, his index and his middle finger into the younger one’s cheeks until he opened his mouth reluctantly just to have Vincent apply a few droplets of whatever the tiny bottle with the skull and crossbones contained to his tongue.

The taste was awful, it was incredibly bitter and made Jonah cough again. He didn’t want to swallow it but he wasn’t able to get it out of his mouth either.

“Drink up,” the older man ordered sternly and placed the glass in front of his captive who reached out and took a gulp, if only to get rid of the taste in his mouth.

Instead of swallowing what was in his mouth though, he bent over to disgorge the potentially poisonous beverage; what he didn’t expect was Vincent’s hand over his mouth.

“Don’t you dare,” he hissed, wrapped his other hand around Jonah’s throat and forced his head back until he felt him swallow.

“You’ll take whatever I give you, without complaining.”

Tearing at Vincent’s arm to make him take his hands off his mouth and throat, Jonah struggled and almost knocked the glass over.

“No, no, no, young man, you’re not finished yet.”

He bent over the chair, his hands wrapped around the younger one’s wrists, pressing them against the armrests. 

“You don’t want me to get my sewing kit, do you?”

Jonah’s lips started to tremble.

“N-no, I… I don’t want that…”

“Good. Have a drink, then.”

With shaking hands, he reached for the glass he set down a few minutes ago and took a tiny sip.

“Go on.”

“It’s… too strong, I don’t want to get drunk.”

“Why not?”

“I… because… I just don’t want to.”

“Better drunk than poisoned, right?”

“Please, why do I have to?”

“I already told you. Drink and tell me what it is.”

“I know what it is, I don’t need to try it again.”

“Tell me.”

“What?”

“You said you knew what it was. Tell me.”

Jonah looked away, but Vincent still noticed his jaws tightening; he drew closer.

“Tell me, Jonah.”

“We both know what it is, we both know that I don’t like it and-”

“Why don’t you like it?”

“Because I don’t like peach liqueur.”

“That’s it? Just the peach liqueur?”

“I just hate Sex on the Beach, okay?”

Vincent burst into laughter and slapped him on the back in a friendly manner.

“I’m so sorry you do,” he chuckled, “I thought that might be something we could try…”

“Shut the fuck up!!!”

“You are the one who’s supposed to shut up and drink, young man.”

Jonah stared daggers at the drinks. There were three of them left, the frappuccino-like beverage, something yellowish in a smaller glass and one of his worst nightmares when it came to cocktails. For some reason, he had always assumed that Vincent hated tomatoes just as much as he did… Uttering a low sigh, he grabbed the glass with the yellow liquid in the middle, downed it in one huge gulp, and fell into another coughing fit right away.

“Goddammit, you’re really trying to kill me, huh?”

The other man smirked and sat down in the chair next to him, reached for Jonah’s wrist and ran his thumb over the back of his hand.

“I’m not trying to kill you,” he whispered, bending over to kiss his knuckles. “I could never kill you, you know that, don’t you?”

“But you just said..,” he interjected; his voice sounded slurred.

“What did I say, sweetheart?”

Jonah flinched when he felt the warm hand on his cheek, caressing him and eventually tilting his chin up until their eyes met.

“You s-saiddddd…”

The young man furrowed his brow, blinked and tried to focus on his captor.

“Darling, you sound miserable… have a drink, will you? You need to stay hydrated, get some vitamins… here.”

As soon as the glass with the dark red liquid and the celery stalk sticking out of it appeared in his field of vision, he made a face.

“Noooo, not that,” he whined, “Tha’s disgusting…”

“On the contrary, it’s good for you. Come on, darling, drink up…”

When he felt the rim of the glass being pressed against his mouth, parting his lips just enough for the tomato juice to touch his tongue, he gagged and jumped to his feet. He didn’t stay there for long, though.

Mere seconds after getting up, he found himself lying on the floor, with Vincent towering over him, one arm around his shoulders, steadying his head.

“You shouldn’t have gotten up so fast, silly boy,” he chided, a blatant smile on his face. “Let’s get you back up, shall we?”

“No..,” Jonah moaned as he felt the hands sneaking under his armpits. 

“Yes!” 

His captor downright beamed with joy as he pulled him back up into the chair.

“There are still two drinks to go, my sweet turtledove. You better get started if you want to have dinner tonight.”

At the mention of food, the young man’s face seemed to turn slightly green and he looked away in disgust.

“Hey, I thought you were hungry! Strawberry?”

He smelled the fruit before it even touched his lips - disgustingly sweet, the pedicel a bit tangy… had he not covered his mouth with both hands, he would’ve thrown up right away.

“Jonah - eat!”

“No!” he whined and tried to bat Vincent’s arm away; it only prompted him to tighten his grip, forcefully shove the fruit into his mouth, and seal it with his hand once more to keep Jonah from spitting it out.

He eventually swallowed the strawberry, but that didn’t end his struggle at all - instead of giving in, Jonah kept fighting against the hands holding him down.

“Take your hands off me!”

“Not until you drink up.”

“I won’t! Lemme go!”

“I made every effort to spoil you, I’m not going to watch you disgorge all the fancy drinks I prepared especially for you.”

“Jus’ lemme go to the bathroom then, ssso you don’ have to watch..,” the younger one hissed; it was getting harder to understand what he was saying.

“You would like that, wouldn’t you?” Vincent sneered, “Too sad it’s not going to happen. Drink. Up.”

“You havvve wha’ you want!”

“Nope, I don’t. I certainly didn’t miss hearing you make an assumption, so I guess we’ll have to continue until you found the right answer to my question.”

“Assumpt-whahhh..?”

“The poison. Did you find out already?”

He gaped at him.

“Did I- did, errrrr…”

“Tell me,” Vincent smiled smugly.

“‘twas the last one, right?”

“Let’s find out! What exactly did you drink there, darling?”

“I… dunno…”

“Wrong answer. Next beverage. Choose one. You’re going to drink both of them anyway, but I’ll let you choose which one to try first, isn’t that nice? I think you should be a little more grateful.”

“Grateful for being… mmmurdered…”

“Stop complaining, you’re still alive. And if you want to keep it that way, you better drink now.”

The dark red cocktail still stood in front of him, but Vincent placed the frappuccino right next to it.

“Make a choice. You might want to consider that one of them only tastes good when served chilled, but I don’t need to tell you that, hm?”

Jonah’s vision was blurred, but the fact that Vincent had been so keen on making him choose a specific drink all the time led him into grabbing the other one, even though he hated everything about it. He removed the celery stick and put it on the table, smiling contentedly as he noticed the stains the red liquid left on the light wood. Oh, how tempting it was to dip his finger into the tiny puddle and draw a funky little pattern… He raised his hand but felt fingers wrapping around his wrist immediately.

“Don’t even think about it.”

But he did. He wanted to touch the wet spot, wanted to paint the whole table with it, wanted to-

As Vincent tightened his grip and twisted his arm behind his back, he cried out in pain.

“None of that now, drink or I’ll make you regret it!”

“Whatcha gonna do about it, huh?”

Vincent pulled him up, twisting his arm even further, and dragged him over into the living room. 

“You don’t want to drink? Okay, you’re not going to drink anything for quite some time, my darling…”

He finally let go and pushed Jonah onto the couch before vanishing into the bathroom.

“Don’t even think about getting up!” he shouted, but even if he wanted to, Jonah couldn’t move at all.

His limbs felt as if they were filled with lead and all he could do was lean back and close his eyes, a wave of relief washing over him - until Vincent returned, a sewing kit in one hand, a hammer in the other.

“I said that I am going to give you a choice and I will stand by my word. Since you don’t want any of the drinks I prepared for you, I’m going to let you choose your punishment now.”

Jonah looked up with glazed eyes.

“Wh-…what?”

“You heard me.”

He raised the hammer and a single needle.

“Do you prefer having your mouth sewn shut or your left wrist smashed?”

The young man crawled away to the other end of the couch, grabbed a pillow and pressed it against his chest.

“N-n-n-nooooo, none of th-that…please…”

“Jonah, I’m so sick and tired of this attitude of yours… I only want what’s best for you, but you keep making things so much harder for both of us… Do you think I like punishing you? I’d be so much happier if I didn’t have to do that all the time, but you leave me no choice with your constant disobedience.”

“I- I will do what you want, I’ll drink the cocktails, all of them, even if… if they’re going to kill me, but pleaaaasssse….”

“Mouth or wrist?”

“No, I’ll…”

He stumbled to his feet and staggered back into the kitchen, his arms swinging back and forth in a desperate attempt to keep his balance. As soon as he sat down in his chair again, he reached for the glass in front of him and emptied it in one go. 

“Jonah, what are you doing there?”

He ignored the irritated tone in his captor’s voice and reached for the other glass - it was the only one left. If he managed to drain it without throwing up, he would be okay. Vincent wouldn’t punish him. He wouldn’t hurt him, wouldn’t smash his wrist, would sew his mouth sh-

“What do you think you’re doing there?!”

“‘m doin’ what you want,” Jonah slurred and tried to pry the frappuccino from Vincent’s hands.

The older one was fast enough to hide it behind his back and take a step back though.

“This is not what I wanted. I wanted you to be mindful, instead, you’re getting mindlessly drunk!”

“Are you r-r-really worried about that?”

“Of course I am! You mean a lot to me! Just as much as my furniture does by the way, so you better stop drinking this fast if you’re already feeling sick…”

“I could jus’ ssssstop drinking altogether!”

“Not until you answered my initial question - which one of these beverages is poisoned?”

“Tis the frappuccino, obviously,” Jonah hissed, looked up at Vincent and tried to stare him down - unsuccessfully.

“You haven’t even tried it yet.”

“Is the only one left and seee others didn’ killlll me.”

“I told you that it’s not going to kill you - you have to look for something more subtle.”

“You can shove your subtlety up your a-hhhhhhhhhhhhhh!”

He was pulled up from his seat, the hand in his hair tightening its grip even more as he stumbled to his feet.

“At least you made a decision now,” Vincent proclaimed, “Try not to throw up for the next few hours, I don’t want you to choke on your own vomit.”

“What? Vincennnn’, no, Vin…”

He tripped over his own feet and fell flat on his face; when he looked up again, his lower lip was bleeding.

“Don’t ruin that pretty mouth before I get the chance to do it,” his captor smirked and pulled him back up.

“No, nonononononono…”

“YES, my love! I’ll teach you a lesson you won’t forget.”

As soon as he saw the sewing kit in Vincent’s hands, Jonah lashed out at him but missed him time and time again. When he felt the hands around his wrists, keeping him from defending himself, he started to scream mindlessly, his voice hoarse and slurred; he wasn’t able to express a single word anymore. Instead, he defended himself as best he could, struggling and fighting tooth and nail in a desperate attempt to get free, but he only knocked over the glass, spilling the frappuccino all over the table. 

“Ohhhh, that’s too sad,” Vincent mocked, “I think you failed…What are we going to do with you now, hm?”

The very second he loosened his grip, Jonah got up, bent over the table - and started licking up the remains of the drink.

“What the fucking hell are you doing there?!” Vincent yelled in disgust, grabbed him by his collar and pulled him away from the table - well, at least he tried but Jonah attempted to get back immediately.

“Stop that!!!”

He slapped him across the face. Once. Twice. Three times. As if waking from a dream, the younger one looked up at him.

“..is the fra…the frappuccino..,” he mumbled, holding on to the edge of the table.

“What is?”

“The- the poison.”

“Do you really think I still care about that?”

“I didddd…wha’ you wanted me toooo…”

“You actually didn’t. But it doesn’t matter, since you’re wrong anyway.”

“Wh-?”

“The poison. It wasn’t in there.”

“It mus’ve been, the other drinksss were… jus’ alcohol an’…whatever. Stuff.”

“And what do you think alcohol is?”

“I… what?”

“Silly boy, so confused… Alcohol, my dear Jonah, is a toxin that’s destroying cells and microorganisms… that’s why it’s used to disinfect wounds, sterilise needles… you know all that, don’t you? And still, you didn’t figure it out…”

“Figured it out…?”

He didn’t understand. Maybe it was the alcohol. Or maybe it was just Vincent’s way of talking to him; whatever it was, it didn’t make sense.

“Don’t look at me like this. You had your chance, you failed, and now you’re going to suffer the consequences.”

With a wide grin on his face, he picked up the sewing kit.

~*~

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