The next time the flame was lit, they were still in the bathroom, but the light through the tiny window had dimmed considerably. He found himself still in the tub, but this time his captor was not on top of him. Instead, he stood, looming over him the lighter in one hand and a silver baseball bat over his shoulder, and Forrest finally got a chance to have a good look at him. He was lean and tall, as he'd originally thought, probably a few inches taller than his own five foot nine, though not as heavily built as Forrest himself was. He had olive-toned skin, and those stormy grey eyes were absurdly embedded in a face dusted heavily with freckles. There was a cruel twist to his mouth that stopped it from being sensual. His hair was nothing more than a thin layer of stubble over his skull. Silver earrings glinted in both ears. The overall effect was striking and Forrest stared. He'd never seen a man like this before in his entire life. 

"Not going to pop off this time?" the man asked, tilting his head in a way that made it obvious he was looking at Forrest's currently soft cock. Forrest covered himself with his hands, fighting another angry blush. The man raised his eyebrows and nudged something towards him with a foot, and Forrest realized it was a towel. Absurdly grateful, he grabbed it and used it to cover his lap. 

"So the pervert Genie is shy," He said, "Can't say I expected that." Forrest gaped at him like a fish

"I'm not a Genie, I'm a person, My name is Forrest Davidson, I'm from Seattle - " he started to reply before being cut off again.

"But you are a pervert though?" The man grinned, and Forrest felt, if possible redder than before.

"I'm not!" He sputtered, then decided to change tack "Listen, this wasn't my idea," He said and gestured at his current state. 

"The nudity or the..." The man trailed off, and before Forrest could stop him, he snapped the lid of the lighter closed, extinguishing the flame. He was only gone for a moment though, because he was abruptly back in the bathtub again, this time on top of his towel. His head spun with the rapidity of the transition, and he had to clutch at the sides of the tub to stop from swaying.

"Gah!" he protested and awkwardly struggled to pull the towel back up out from under his ass to cover himself again, "Please I - I'm not here to hurt you, I'm a victim here"  He noticed that the man had stopped looking at him, and was staring at the little flame. 

"Are you ignoring me?" Forrest asked, incredulous.

"What?" The man asked, a little dazed as if suddenly coming too, "You're not really in a position to be making demands, little Forrest Fire" He said and grinned his canine grin again. Forrest felt something stir in him at that grin and was suddenly intensely aware that he could somehow still feel the heat of the man's hand wrapped around his metal body. He couldn't help but wonder what that hand would feel like wrapped around other parts of him. He was glad of the towel as his body reacted despite the tension of the situation. He cursed himself. This was a sadistic, cruel man that was threating him with a baseball bat for gods sake. He needed to get his thoughts out of the gutter and back on the right track, back to solving his current problem, on to things that were moral and good and ... He swallowed against the spiral that churned through his head.

"What do you want from me? " Forrest asked feeling a little desperate. 

"Hmmm. You said earlier that you'd do anything, but you and I both know that's not true now don't we?" The man replied and then used the baseball bat to lift the corner of Forrest's towel. Blushing, he yanked it back down. "You don't seem like the giving type either, considering earlier you came all over me and didn't even offer to return the favour," He continued, and then he cupped his crotch lewdly, making it impossible to miss his meaning. Forrest felt red all the way to his ears. 

"I- I'm not some kind of nancy boy" He stammered, trying to sound offended. 

"Could have fooled me." The words were still said in that teasing tone, but he frowned as he said them, eyebrows drawn down

"I don't even know your name," He protested instead

"Cyrus," the man responded. The name suited him. "Cy, if I like you" 

"Cyrus, Cy" 

"Ahh ah ah, I didn't say I liked you, Forrest Fire" He didn't do anything but shift his weight, but Forrest immediately detected the threat in the change of stance. 

"Sir, I am asking you man, to man, to help me. I've been... cursed or something. I don't know what. I've been trapped for so long. I have money, I'm sure its still all there, I can get money,"  He said and tried not to look at the crotch of Cyrus' jeans again. How the hell were they that tight? 

"Maybe not..." Cyrus trailed off, eyes narrowing, "How long have you been in there exactly?"

"It was December, the fifteenth I think" 

"What year?" Forrest's stomach filled with dread. 

"Nineteen sixty-seven," He said slowly, meeting Cyrus' eyes. He didn't like what he saw, "Why, what year is it now?" 

"Twenty twenty four," Cyrus replied, and shut the lighter.