
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/9871964.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      A_Series_of_Unfortunate_Events_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Klaus_Baudelaire/Original_Male_Character(s)
  Character:
      Klaus_Baudelaire, Original_Male_Character(s)
  Additional Tags:
      Underage_Drinking, Mutual_Masturbation, Intercrural_Sex, Voyeurism
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-02-22 Words: 3496
****** A Singular, Obscene & Ugly Escapade ******
by twitchtipthegnawer
Summary
     “Unfortunate” was insufficient to describe the events of that night.
     Unfortunate would imply that there was a level of luck, or lack
     thereof, involved in what occurred. The truth was that luck had
     nothing to do with it - the events were entirely the fault of human
     nature and underage drinking.
     Thus we have come to the word “obscene,” which explains both the
     irredeemably negative effects and the child-inappropriate actions
     perfectly. Luckily the night was only a dream, or perhaps a
     nightmare, and not in fact a piece of the Baudelaires’ story; if it
     had been otherwise, then “tragedy” would have become a wholly
     insufficient word as well, and where would we be then?
Notes
See the end of the work for notes
By the end of his first week, Klaus was  done  with Prufrock Preparatory
School. He was tired and sore and, for the first time in his life, he didn’t
want to read another book for at  least  a day. To make matters worse, he’d
been kept out later than Violet and Sunny, and now he was stuck running back to
the Orphan’s Shack alone.
Knowing his luck, of  course  he ran into some older students. They were bigger
boys, and muscular, which explained why they were out near the track field so
late at night. Klaus tried to duck around them before they noticed him, but it
was too late.
With a sneer in his voice, the largest of the strangers said, “Hey look, it’s
the Boudelaire bitch!”
Surprised, Klaus tripped over a rock in his path and nearly fell. One of the
others caught him by the arm, and Klaus was left reeling. He’d hardly heard the
other kids swear at all, let alone at  him . He didn’t understand why.
“Sorry,” muttered the boy holding Klaus’ skinny shoulder. “I think they snuck
out some alcohol. I’m Tim, by the way.”
“Alcohol?” Klaus asked, eyes wide.
“Yeah,” said Tim. “The lunch ladies have lots of bottles. You didn’t know?”
He shook his head, then pulled away from Tim, who was  still  holding his arm.
Tim let go somewhat reluctantly, and Klaus considered telling him that they’d
all be in a lot of trouble if they got caught.
Then again, Klaus didn’t have much faith in his teachers that they might
actually be competent for once. Shaking his head, he tried to walk away and
leave the three idiots to their illicit activities.
The first boy, however, wasn’t done with him yet. “Aw, little Klaus is scared!
You’ve never had a  grown up  drink before, have you bitch boy?”
“Bill,” Tim said wearily.
“Insulting my manliness would only be an effective way of goading me if I cared
in the slightest what you think,” Klaus said, still walking away. “And I really
don’t.”
Before he could get very far, Bill was catching him around the middle. His arms
were solid, much stronger than Klaus’, who wasn’t used to lifting anything
heavier than a dictionary. Klaus struggled a bit, but he didn’t have very much
hope.
“Can’t insult what isn’t there!” Crowed Bill, who was currently grabbing at
Klaus’ sides in an ironically ticklish way. “How about we give the little baby
a hand? Put some hair on his chest!”
Quietly, the boy who hadn’t spoken yet slipped around in front of Klaus. Tim
was saying something exasperated about, “Lewis, really, we shouldn’t be doing
this.” Klaus would’ve thanked him for sharing all their names, but he was
rather preoccupied worrying about the bottle Lewis was holding.
Of course, the one thing Klaus most wanted them  not  to do was what they did.
Tim protested half-heartedly as Bill forced Klaus’ mouth open, and then Lewis
was sticking the neck of the bottle between his teeth and tilting it. His mouth
gushed with sour, burning liquid, and Klaus coughed and choked for a moment
before accidentally swallowing some.
It stained his front in sticky, brown fluid, thoroughly ruining his shirt and
making his blazer rather uncomfortable. He squirmed, swallowing involuntarily
again, hating the way his nose and throat felt like they’d been set on fire.
Finally, Lewis pulled away, and then Bill jerked to the side.
Blinking away tears, Klaus looked up to see that Tim had forced Bill to let go.
Finally, he does something useful,  Klaus thought. Then he coughed, but it
didn’t lessen the pain at all.
“Lay off,” Bill was saying, smacking the back of Tim’s head. “It’s no big deal.
We’re just loosening him up a bit!”
“I would ask why you seem to think forcing someone to drink would be a friendly
gesture, but that would imply that you were thinking,” Klaus said. Tim only
looked at him blankly, and Lewis sneered. He didn’t know why he bothered trying
to insult them.
Bill was wrapping his arm around Klaus’ shoulders as if they were the best of
friends. “You’ll thank me later baby,” he said. “Here, sit with us! Maybe
you’ll learn something.”
With the way Bill was holding onto him, Klaus didn’t have much choice. He was
crushed to the larger boy’s side, so he wiped his nose on his sleeve and waited
for the drunken idiot to forget about him.
They ended up sitting in a circle, Lewis and Tim passing the bottle back and
forth while Tim snuck glances at Klaus and Bill rambled. He was talking about
sports, Klaus thought, but it was even harder to pay attention to than normal
with the way Tim was flushing brighter and brighter.
And was it Klaus’ imagination, or was his head getting fuzzier? He coughed, and
his head moved just a bit, but it seemed like more than usual. Was this because
he’d been forced to drink?
“Hey, you okay?” Tim asked, getting on his hands and knees and crawling through
the grass to get closer to Klaus.
“I’m fine,” Klaus said, careful to enunciate just in case he wasn’t.
Considering the calculating look Lewis gave him, he wasn’t sure he succeeded.
Bill’s arm slipped from around his shoulders to his waist, and Tim got so close
Klaus could smell the sour drink on his breath. “Hey,” he said again. “Your
clothes don’t look too comfortable.”
“They’re f-fine,” Klaus replied, biting his lip. He didn’t know why he
stuttered. He’d faced down Count Olaf before, and compared to him these boys
were  nothing.
“Here, lemme -”
“Got it!” Bill grabbed both sides of Klaus’ blazer and pulled them apart,
popping off the buttons.
He laughed loudly as Klaus scrambled to pick them up and put them in his
pockets. It wouldn’t do to lose them, since he and his sisters could hardly
afford extra buttons. He was so preoccupied he didn’t notice the way Tim was
staring at his soaked, clinging shirt, licking his lips.
“God, you’re so fucking skinny,” Bill was saying. He poked Klaus’s side,
forcing him to stifle a squeak.
Klaus mustered up as much of a glare as he could. “Well, I’m  sorry  for not
living up to your -”
A hand reached up and caught in Klaus’ hair, making him turn his head abruptly.
He opened his mouth to make a surprised noise, and instead found wet muscle
swiping over his lips.
Shocked sounds were muffled against Tim’s lips as he kissed Klaus. The smaller
boy was squirming, trying to get away, but Bill was right behind him  hooting
and cheering Tim on and it felt gross and slimy and there was drool down his
chin and, and,  and.
When Tim pulled away at last he was panting, and Klaus was trying to ignore the
renewed burning in his eyes. “What was  that?”  He asked, his voice too shaky
to sound cutting.
“Sorry, I just, you looked really cute so…”
“Cute? Look at this!” Bill reached around to grope at Klaus’ chest. “Nothing
here dude, the kid’s a twig. How can he be cute?”
Fear began to curl in Klaus’ gut, and he remembered the way Olaf looked at
Violet. Tim didn’t look nearly as sinister (that seemed to be Lewis’ thing; he
was really creeping Klaus out with the way he was just  watching ) but he had
the same heat, and an even more intense draw, as though Klaus were a magnet.
His hands were reaching out, fumbling with Klaus’ shirt.
The buttons fell open one at a time, terribly slowly. Tim seemed to run out of
patience halfway down and simply left the shirt partially done up, but that
didn’t help at all. “See, here, he’s cute. Bill, move your damn hands.”
Unexpectedly, Bill did what Tim said.  Of course he’d listen now,  Klaus
thought. His stomach sank when he realized he sounded terrified instead of
bitter, even in his own head. Surprisingly gentle hands were cupping his chest
now, Tim’s thumbs rubbing over his nipples until Klaus squeaked at the unusual
sensation.
“See?” Tim said again.
“You repeat yourself so o-often, I have to wonder how many words you actually
know.”
Sudden pain bloomed in Klaus’ scalp, and he arched his back to try to lean into
the grip on his hair. Bill shook his head abruptly, tutting. “Don’t be so mean!
Tim’s the nice one, if you’re mean to him then we’ll have to be mean back.”
“That’s right,” said a voice from very close to Klaus’ shoulder. He jerked, and
saw Lewis’ cold, grey eyes staring at him. “We can be  very  mean, Klaus.”
“C’mon guys,” Tim said, whiny and breathless. “He’s so small, he can’t defend
himself.”
“Got that right!” Bill replied as he shook Klaus’ head again.
Not wanting to risk more retaliation, Klaus simply lay there, his back bowed
between Bill and Tim’s bodies. His nipples were pebbled from the cold, but his
shivering could have been any number of things: chill, fear, tension. Tim’s
eyes were almost glazed as he leaned forwards and licked at Klaus’ chest.
Whispering, Klaus gave one final, futile plea. “Stop.”
No one responded. He hadn’t expected them to.
“Hey, he tastes like the whiskey,” Tim slurred. “C’mere!”
Lewis leaned forward, locking his gaze with Klaus’ again as he took the pink
nub in his mouth.
As much as Klaus hated it, it didn’t feel bad; it was new, and he didn’t know
how to respond, but his body pushed his chest forward for him.
“Think he likes it?” Bill said, sounding delighted. “Like a girl?”
Then Tim was kissing down Klaus’ belly, murmuring agreement, and it suddenly
occurred to Klaus that  this was really happening.
Thrashing wildly, Klaus managed to free himself for a moment. He stood only to
find the world spinning around him, but he needed to escape,  needed to,  so he
ran anyway. He made it two steps before a solid weight slammed into his back,
knocking the breath from him and driving him into the ground. He sniffled
against the dirt, at first afraid that his nose had started running.
He tasted copper on his tongue, realized his nose was bleeding, and decided
that was worse. Lewis breathed heavily into Klaus’ ear. His chest was plastered
to Klaus’ back, and his legs were caging Klaus’ hips. “You’re not gonna get
away,” he growled. “So don’t bother trying.”
It wasn’t fair; he was a kid too. Klaus wanted to say as much, but he was still
trying to get his diaphragm to cooperate when Lewis yanked him back onto his
feet. Tim seemed concerned, but as Bill looked down Klaus’ body he howled with
laughter.
“I think we gave the poor lil’ baby his first boner!” Tim colored even brighter
red at that, and covered his face with his hands. Klaus looked down at his own
body and felt himself flushing as well, though he didn’t think it was for the
same reason. Humiliation was settling in his gut, and he doubted he would’ve
had a physical reaction were it not for his age.
For not the first time, Klaus thought that he hated being a child. But he
couldn’t change his age, any more than he could change the fact that Lewis was
making Klaus  sit in his lap.  Tim crawled forward again, seeming to have no
dignity, and resumed kissing Klaus’ belly.
“Maybe we should make him cum for the first time, too,” Bill said. “If he can.
Itty bitty baby Baudelaire might not be able to yet.” Pinching Klaus’ aching
nose, he said, “Can you cum little boy? It’s when white, sticky stuff comes
outta your dick.”
“Sh-shut up,” Klaus said. Bill and Lewis both laughed, at that, but Tim was
preoccupied pulling down Klaus’ pants. When they slipped past his hips, taking
his underwear with them, he yelped at the sudden cold.
Tim pressed one slightly trembling fingertip against the head of Klaus’ dick.
Bill was cooing mockingly, which was the only reason the boys didn’t hear
Klaus’ whimper. It felt good, but he didn’t want it to. He didn’t want it to at
all. “He’s circumcised,” Bill pointed out. “Too bad. I heard circumcised boys
don’t get to feel as good.”
Circumcise  was an unfamiliar word to Klaus, and he couldn’t help the wide-eyed
stare he gave Bill in response. It wasn’t often that idiot boys went around
saying words Klaus didn’t know, unless those words were profanity, which Klaus
had no interest in knowing anyway.
“Oh, I think Mr. Know-it-all is surprised!” Bill scooted away, undoing his own
pants. “Here’s what a  real  dick looks like,” he said proudly.
Ironically, Bill’s dick didn’t look much different from Klaus’. It was slightly
larger and had extra skin partially covering the head, but that was about it.
For some reason, though, it made Klaus’ terror spike again, and he jerked away
when Bill leaned closer to his face. Lewis caught him, forced him to still, and
then Klaus felt something pressing into the small of his back.
Both Lewis and Bill were hard, and they didn’t even have the excuse of being
touched that Klaus had. It made his mouth taste sour, that he still felt
humiliated even knowing they had no basis to mock him.
All at once Tim drew Klaus’ attention again. His light, exploring touches had
firmed into a grip around Klaus’ dick, and he was jerking him off (at least,
that was what Klaus thought he was doing, considering the lewd conversations
he’d heard older boys have in the past). Bill was touching himself much the
same way, moving his hand quickly.
Klaus didn’t know where to look. Everything smelled of crushed grass and sour
drink and musk. He blamed the last on Bill, but he couldn’t escape the smell no
matter the cause with Lewis’ arms around him. And Lewis was grinding against
him, too, he felt queasy, he  wanted it to end.
The unrelenting hand on him made it worse, not better. Klaus felt drawn tight
as a piano string. His balls ached, his toes curled, and he knew he was making
sounds.
“So cute,” whispered Tim. Lewis chuckled in Klaus’ ear, a puff of breath that
made him shiver.
On the next upstroke Tim did something with his wrist that had Klaus crying
out. His muscles spasmed, legs kicking hard enough that Tim squealed and pulled
away.
Bill appeared to tip over the same invisible edge the next moment, his whole
face scrunching up unattractively. Unlike Klaus, however, ropes of white fluid
spurted out - directly onto Klaus’ face. He was left staring in shock, still
shaking hard and unsure what had happened.
If there was anything in this world Klaus hated more than the cruelty of
others, it was not understanding what was happening.
“See, this here is cum!” Bill said once he’d gotten his breath back. He dragged
his fingers through the cooling streaks on Klaus’ face, gathering up sticky
fluid.
Behind his back, Klaus heard, “Make him eat it.”
“Ew!” Bill exclaimed. “That’s  so  gross. Fits for a bitch though.”
Reeling and overwhelmed, Klaus couldn’t stop him before he shoved his fingers
in Klaus’ mouth. The bitter taste made him gag, and the pressure against his
throat forced him to swallow. He tried to bite down and force Bill to back off,
but the fingers were already retreating.
“Lay off,” Tim was saying. Klaus only got a moment of relief before he
continued, “It’s my turn now.”
“What’re you gonna do? He already came, he’ll be boring now. Just as pathetic
as usual.”
I am not pathetic,  Klaus wanted to say. His mouth felt glued together.
“I know what we should do,” Lewis said, shoving Klaus out of his lap. He went
sprawling, and then Lewis was wrestling his pants and briefs entirely off of
him.
“We can’t do  that,”  Tim said, aghast.
Giving Tim a scornful look, Lewis said, “Use his thighs. Idiot.”
“Oh.” Tim gave a breathy moan at just the thought of it, then switched places
with Lewis so that Klaus was left staring at his cold eyes.
Maneuvering Klaus so that he was on his hands and knees, Tim squeezed his
thighs. “You’re nice and soft,” he said happily. “Can you squeeze them together
for me?”
Rebellion sounded very, very good right about now. So what if his limbs were
weak and his mind tired and wobbly? Klaus could probably escape two of the
three bullies, no problem.
That left Lewis, though, and… Those broad hands were sliding under Klaus’ chin,
the barest ghost of pressure. Klaus shuddered, but did as Tim said. He didn’t
want to find out what Lewis was capable of.
There was a rustle, and then Tim was pressing his dick between Klaus’ thighs.
At least, Klaus assumed it was his dick. He wasn’t going to look down and
double-check, but Tim’s pleased sound was fairly expressive. The hot, heavy
thing between Klaus’ thighs moved back and forth slowly at first, as if getting
a feeling for him.
“Move faster,” Lewis said sharply. “We haven’t got all night.”
“He’s so soft though,” Tim said, almost reverently. “I don’t wanna speed up.”
Suddenly Lewis’ grip on Klaus’ face turned harsh, and forced him to tilt his
head back at a painful angle. “Tighten your thighs. If the idiot doesn’t ‘wanna
speed up,’ then we have to make him cum faster some other way.”
With no other end in sight, Klaus complied. Tim squawked at the feeling, but
Klaus couldn’t even muster a sardonic grin at the sound. Even Bill was silent,
and when Klaus looked over he saw that he’d fallen asleep on the ground.
This didn’t matter to him at all,  Klaus realized dully.  I feel so horrible,
and he just goes and takes a nap.
If he’d had a mean bone in his body, Klaus would’ve wished to beat Bill up in
that moment. But that wasn’t who Klaus Baudelaire was, and so he sat there
while Tim rocked his frail frame and kneaded his thighs, and tried to turn off
his considerable brain power. He wouldn’t have succeeded on his own, and this
is why Lewis was, perhaps, not the worst thing that could’ve happened to him.
“Look at me.” Klaus didn’t respond immediately. His eyes had fallen shut, and
he didn’t know when, and damnit, he was tired too.  “Look at me.”
Abruptly a blow hit the side of his head, and then another on the opposite
side. They left his ears ringing, and he opened bleary eyes to see Lewis’ hand
raised to backhand him. “That’s better,” Lewis said, sounding entirely
insincere. “Keep looking at me, or I’ll hit you again.”
“B-be-be,  ngh.”
“Shut up, Tim. I don’t need to hear your disgusting moaning.”
“You don’t mind  his  moaning.”
“Neither do you.” The hand under his chin gentled into a petting motion again.
“It’s cute.”
In the lull Klaus’ eyes had closed again. He forced them open in a panic,
hoping Lewis hadn’t noticed. He didn’t seem to have.
Tim did finish, eventually. He splattered Klaus’ thighs with the same liquid
Bill had, leaving them uncomfortable and sore. Then he and Lewis helped Klaus
back into his clothes, and Lewis said, “I’ll walk him home.” Tim murmured
agreement. He was busy waking Bill, now.
Halfway through stumbling back to the Orphan’s Shack, however, Klaus realized
something was wrong. Lewis was watching him like a hawk. He barely even
blinked.
Never one to back down when faced with evil, Klaus stopped and said, “Alright,
out with it. What do you want me to do to you?”
For a split second Lewis looked surprised, then his face smoothed out again.
“Nothing right now. You’re swaying.”
“True, but irrelevant. I’d rather get it out of the way.”
“That’s the thing, though.” Lewis stepped forward, looming over Klaus
threateningly. “It’s not up to you, and I say  not now.”
Fear curdled in Klaus’ stomach. He  was  tired. He wanted the day to be over.
Maybe that was why he didn’t argue too much longer, and meekly followed Lewis
back to the Shack.
Or maybe it was because he knew, even then, that he and his siblings would be
gone before Lewis could enact whatever plan he’d come up with. After all, none
of their other homes had lasted very long.
So Klaus cleaned himself with a sink and a dirty rag, and thought very hard
about not thinking. If he didn’t sleep that night it didn’t matter much anyway.
The Baudelaires were used to not sleeping well. Truthfully, the thing that
bothered him most in the morning was the way Violet didn’t ask too much about
his bruises.
Then again, he didn’t know what he would say if she had been more adamant about
getting answers. Probably something he would regret even more than the alcohol
that left him headachy.
End Notes
     I’ve never read the ASoUE books and I’ve watched like… four episodes.
     This is a commission fic for anonymous who wanted to see Klaus
     Baudelaire beaten and upset, okay, it’s completely shameless and
     unrelated to the plot of the series. I hope y’all like it anyway :””)
Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed
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