Peter groaned, having been beaten to the ground. He couldn't seem to call for help as the other stood above him, eyes slowly opening despite the pain he was in. But he wished his eyes stayed closed. His enemy was beginning to unmask him, a gasp passing his lips. "No--- no, stop!" His voice cracked in fear, how could this be happening??? His body hurt too much to fight back, especially as the others hand went to slam him back to the ground when he did try to get up. "Let me go!!"

     “I-I know you don’t like it when I tell you what to do, ‘cause — ‘cause it’s not my job in this relationship, but …. I don’t want to do anything tonight Daddy. I don’t feel that good.” 

"You don't mind if I ask you a few questions, do you? I'm filming a documentary-- it's about the Flash, and you were just face to face with the guy, but -- if you don't want to say anything that's fine too! Just wondering."

wendy: i havent touched my princess parts all day just to save them for you!

"I will do anything you want," Beau said, not looking at the other. "No limits, expect murder. Won't murder anyone. But anything else! I will do a-anything."

Henry was new to all of this. He’s only recently gotten out of a three month relationship with someone only a year older, but he was definitely not what he was looking for. Henry needed someone to get him out of his shell a little. He needed someone to be adventurous with him, not always suggesting fucking netflix and chill. God he’s so annoyed by that phrase. No, he needed someone older. Hence, his appearance at a bar he is too young to be in. Three years too young to be exact. He says he doesn’t care though, not until he gets in and is surrounded by older men. An almost foreign species to him. Did he really think this through? Not really. But he’s going through with it, as he moves to the bar and sits, trying to figure out what the hell he’s actually doing. This isn’t like him. He doesn’t go to bars, he doesn’t usually throw a second glance to an older man — he’s a goody two shoes. That’s just his thing. Even his name sounds goody goody. But here he is. Sitting at a bar. Surrounded by older men & women. With a drink in front of him. – Wait. A drink? He hadn’t ordered one yet. Looking uo and shaking out of hid thoughts, Henry takes note of the other who happens to be looking his way. They’d bought him the drink. He offers a shy smile, nodding in thanks and too shy and nervous to actually approach them. Or even take a sip of the drink.