Bolton Rising Part 74 - Ramsay & Gregor

"Come on, you damn pussy. That's all you got?" Gregor prodded with a dark laced humor, talking over the death metal playing on the sound system and the repetitive clanking of heavy weights. "You're never going to get any better with everyone babying your pale ass. What would your father say if he saw you this weak?" The Bastard's only reply was the fury building behind a pair of ice blue eyes. "Yeah... that's what I thought. Give me ten more and then you can stop for today. This basic routine is hardly even a warm up for myself."

Gregor smirked, boastfully as Ramsay gritted his teeth, beads of sweat dotting his forehead, while the bastard pushed through a final set of leg lifts that had his muscles burning with fire and screaming in agony. “Fuck…You... Asshole!" He spat out curses with the final thud of the weights, wondering why in the seven Hells he had ever agreed to let Clegane be his physical therapist. "You're the sadistic prick everyone should fear, not me." 

"Maybe… but I’m not holding you against your will. You’re free to be a quitter at any time." Gregor held out a cold water bottle which his best friend happily took and gulped down, feeling instant relief upon his parched throat. "Because you're going to be feeling that a lot worse tomorrow, sweetheart, and I'll still expect you to show up for another session." 

"You're having way too much fun at my expense," the Bastard of Bolton replied sourly, before wiping his face off with a towel and standing up from the weight machine, reaching for his walking cane with an annoyed glare, hoping to be rid of the thing soon.

"Perhaps, but it was an amusing suggestion from your devoted pet. Especially at dinner, with Melly and I present. You would never say no and lose face in front of us," Gregor chuckled, walking along with Ramsay as they headed for the steam room. "You might have your hands full with such a clever girl and you don’t even know it, bastard."

"Don't think I won't make her pay for that sudden insolence... and I blame your wife for being such a bad influence," Bolton shot back, tossing his soaked gym clothes in the laundry chute, then wrapping a clean white towel around his waist and stepping into the spacious steam room. He relaxed with relief, taking a comfortable bench seat, and listened to the sizzling hiss of water splashing over hot lava rocks as Gregor worked the controls. 

"Leave the women alone, you ungrateful bastard. They're just concerned about you. Clegane changed and tucked his towel into place, before settling his large frame and filling up the empty space. "It's not like you can go walking into any hospital, and I seriously doubt you want Qyburn giving you daily rub downs… unless you're into another sick weird fetish I don't know about." He raised a suspicious brow, giving the Bastard of Bolton a look of 'please don't tell me if you are.'

"Now that's just vile, but I do like to punish the slaves at the Dreadfort Club with his visits. I should show you the videos sometime, man. Now that's true horror." Ramsay laughed deeply with amusement, glad to spend so much time with the Mountain, but still missing his establishment and Bastard Boys. "I should go to Winterfell today and see what's going on. Damon won't stop calling me. I think he's ready to kill Skinner and Luton if he hasn’t already."

"I would imagine so. A trio of idle Bastard Boys and no pussy around. I'm surprised no one has gotten their dick stuck somewhere." 

"True... I should make some arrangements for them. It's the least I can do. I owe you all for sticking by me. Watching after my pet and coming to my aid are both debts I mean to repay."

"We've always been in this together, bastard. Nothing is ever going to change that." Gregor reached out and squeezed Ramsay's shoulder. "Just don't get killed."

"Never! I've still got plenty of revenge to dish out," Bolton replied with his devilish grin, his eyes lit with determination. "But there must be something I can repay you with? You know nothing is off the table."

Gregor sighed and rubbed his strong chin, feeling a little uncomfortable as Ramsay kept staring at him waiting for a reply, his smile growing bigger. "You're really going to make me say it out loud?"

"Of course. Nothing would please me more than hearing your wishlist." The Bastard tormented his friend, already having an idea want the Mountain was longing for. He had caught Gregor’s intense staring on more than one occasion, tuning out all other distractions, a predator eyeing a pair of fawns, lost in their innocence as they played.

“Fine. If you say nothing is off limits, then..." Clegane grumbled, clenching his hand into a fist. "I want your pet and my wife together to do with as I please. And no, I don't want you there watching. So make it happen, bastard."

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