Frayed Ties

Sleep came slowly and never quite felt like it claimed him, so it was a surprise when Danya woke to find the glow of morning light illuminating the now empty tent. Not only was Simon gone, but so too were his bag and the bedding he had slept on the night before.

Cold dread settled into Danya’s gut. Simon had left him. After a good night’s sleep, Simon had thought over his options and decided that simply abandoning his burden was the simplest way out of the situation.

How long would it take for someone to find him? Would they treat him as a runaway, or would they believe that this situation had not been his choice?

Danya let out a shaky scoff. Of course the blame would be placed solely at his feet. Why would anybody even consider that Simon could be at fault when it was so much simpler to just punish Danya?

By the time Hamish poked his head into the tent, Danya had just about worked himself up into a state of panic. “Time to go, pup.”

As Danya hurried to follow Hamish outside and down now crowded rows of tents, he kept his head down and did his best to simply breathe. For now, for this moment, everything was okay. He hadn’t been abandoned — yet.

Simon waited to the side of the main gate on the back of his dark mare, the reins of Hamish’s paint gelding in his hand. His gaze paused and held on Danya, then jumped to Hamish with eyebrows raised in question.

Hamish shrugged. “He woke up alone in your tent. Of course he looks worried.”

Simon nodded, all interest immediately evaporating now that he knew Danya’s distress had been his own doing. Still, for a moment there he had looked at Danya, noticed he was upset, and cared. Maybe only because he thought somebody had disrespected him by proxy by messing with his property, but it was something.

Hamish did all the work of getting Danya up onto the horse behind Simon, because by that point Simon had decided to go back to pretending Danya didn’t exist.

Danya shifted, trying to get into a position that didn’t feel awkward, but that was impossible. The entire situation was awkward. He tried resting his hands on his thighs, but quickly grabbed for Simon’s waist when the horse started moving.

It didn’t help that, the moment Danya was distracted, he found himself leaning into Simon much more closely than he needed to. Forcing himself to lean back again was physically uncomfortable.

Simon just felt so… solid. As though even when being in proximity with him was the source of Danya’s current discomfort, getting closer to him could somehow nullify it. The energy of every living thing had a different feel to it, and Simon’s was more than anything one of strength and safety. Danya wanted to drown himself in it, but he felt like he could barely get his feet wet.

The area surrounding the camp was all farmland, fields of corn stretching out endless and identical. It came as almost a relief when it finally gave way to scrubby, untended grassland.

The first long wooden pole Danya saw, laying flat in a ditch along the side of the road, he assumed was simply a fallen tree. It was only when he saw a second, resting diagonally against a crest of rocks, that he noticed the torn wires rusting from the crossbeam attached to the top and realised what he was looking at: pre-war electricity poles. They had been left where they had fallen to be slowly reclaimed by nature.

Where Danya had grown up everything had either been cleaned up and restored or destroyed and cleared away, but out here nobody had ever bothered with such things. A car sat abandoned along the roadside, its doors removed for salvage long ago and grass growing along the top of it. Danya had always known the war had happened, of course, but seeing the reality of the past made it feel so much closer.

“Are you hungry?”

Danya had been so distracted that Simon’s voice almost made him jump, and then it took him another moment to realise that Simon was addressing him, not Hamish. “No thank you, sir.”

He would need to eat eventually, but any energy he took in from a source other than Simon would only bring him further out of balance. Simon’s energy was slowly feeding into him, and he was hoping it would be enough to at least temporarily return him to a state of inner stability. He was already feeling calmer and a bit more able to resist the urge to cling to Simon.

“You don’t have to call me ‘sir’ when we’re alone together,” Simon said. “Or when it’s just us and Hamish. He doesn’t count as another person in regards to any rules I give you.”

“Wow, rude,” Hamish commented. “You see how rude he is to me, Danya? I don’t count as a person.”

“As another person,” Simon clarified. “We’ve been friends so long that you’re basically an extension of myself.”

“Hmm…” Hamish leant forward in his saddle and tapped his chin. “Okay, that’s acceptable. We have known each other a fucking long time. It’s been, mm…”

“Eight years.”

“Yup, eight years now.”

“Did you know one another before you joined the military?” Danya asked.

“Nah, we both joined up at sixteen, and that’s when we met,” Hamish explained. “Let me tell you, the military life didn’t really match up with my expectations.”

“Oh?”

“Simon’s whole family has been in the military, but me? I just thought it would be the best way to fuck men.”

Simon shot Hamish a look. “Should you really be telling him this?”

“He’s not gonna tell anyone.”

“I won’t,” Danya confirmed. “We’re trained to respect the privacy of our masters and their associates. After all, many men obtain a slave specifically because their desires are… unconventional.”

Simon scoffed. “Most of them just want to unconventionally have sex with a thirteen year old.”

“Anyway,” Hamish continued. “I was wrong. See, military camps are segregated by sex. You can’t even bring a female slave into a male military camp, so male slaves are used for all purposes. Everyone knows this means that men have sex with male slaves, and that’s fine. But—”

“And butts are the crux of the issue.”

“Yes, thank you, Simon. But when a slave is involved, the assumption is that he’ll be on the receptive side of things and that makes it okay.”

Danya didn’t even realise that he’d made a small sound in the back of his throat until Hamish raised expectant eyebrows at him. “Well, I— that isn’t always the ways things go, sir. We do whatever our masters ask of us.”

He was thinking specifically of Duran and his master. They had tried doing things more conventionally for the first few months until Duran’s master had brought up the idea of switching their roles. They had fit together so much more comfortably that way that Duran had realised his master had wanted that from him all along, but had been too embarrassed to ask for it even from his own slave.

“Oh, yeah, I bet a good half of them are switching roles at least sometimes, but it’s all part of this fiction we collectively maintain. We only have sex with men because women aren’t available. We only take a penetrative role because nobody would ever want to be penetrated. And so forth. So here I am, sixteen years old and still waiting on a growth spurt, making it pretty fucking clear that I will suck any dick that gets within arms reach of me—”

“Hamish,” Simon cut in again. “Have you considered that he might not want to hear about this?”

“Oh, no, I don’t mind at all,” Danya assured him. “The better I understand the culture of military life, the more quickly I can adapt to my new circumstances.”

Also, although it would be improper to say so, he was enjoying the story. It wasn’t half as crude as some of the tales Duran had shared with he and Fanner, and it was nice to feel like Hamish liked him well enough to share such personal information.

“See? He’s fine,” Hamish said. “So anyway, I wasn’t very popular, and I was small, and I barely knew which end of a sword to hold. I honestly think I might not have survived. But then Simon, who has his family’s reputation, who was nearly full grown by the time he was sixteen, who’d been learning to fight since before he could walk… Fucking Simon tells them to knock it off and focus on more important things, and they do! And he didn’t even want me to suck his dick.”

“You probably would have told the whole camp about it in vivid detail.”

“Not true! I only tell you that shit,” Hamish objected. “Anyway, that’s the story of how me and Simon became friends. I don’t get to tell the full version very often.”

“Do you really wish you had more opportunity to tell people about how much of an idiot you were?”

“In the past! That was past me. Present me is completely fine with laughing at past me.”

“How about I punch you in the dick, and then in a few minutes time we can bond over how much of an asshole past me was?”

“Oh, yeah, ‘cause in a few minutes time present you won’t be an asshole.”

“I’m not an asshole.”

“Yeah?” Hamish turned back to look at Danya. “What do you think, pup? Is he an asshole?”

“Uh—” Danya’s eyes went wide and his arms tensed around Simon’s waist. “No, sir, of course not.”

Hamish scoffed. “I’m sure that’s absolutely your honest assessment. You don’t have to call me sir when nobody else is around either, by the way. We like to keep things casual, but you know. Gotta maintain a certain appearance in public.”

“I understand. Perception is important.” Danya was silent for a moment. “I apologise if this is too bold… but is the intention that I will be given to Hamish, in an informal sense? I realise I’m more to his... tastes.”

Hamish laughed. Simon didn’t. The silence between them stretched for just a little too long.

“No,” Simon said flatly. “The situation is more complicated than you understand, which is fine, because I intended it to be. Don’t worry about it.”

“Simon, that’s not fair,” Hamish cut in. “Of course he’s going to worry about this stuff.”

“No, it’s fine,” Danya said quickly. “Really. I only wanted to know so that I could behave appropriately. It’s not his job to worry about me.”

Simon was silent for a long moment before he finally let out a sigh. When he spoke, his voice was gentler this time. “I’m not going to give you to anyone else. Last night, when Hamish offered to take you, it was because he knew I wanted some time alone.”

“I’m sorry that I was disruptive.”

“You apologise too much.”

“I— will take that criticism on board.”

Hamish laughed and smoothed sweat-damp curls away from his face. “Ugh, it’s hot. Danya, aren’t you hot in that?”

Danya looked down at his robe. It covered just about everything other than his head, hands, and feet, and the fabric was fairly thick. “No. Mages are better at regulating their body temperature than humans.”

“That sounds nice,” Simon commented. “I’m already getting gross and sweaty.”

“Maybe I could…” Danya held his hand out in front of him and focussed on cold, wiggling his fingers as he felt heat being drawn out of them. He pressed his palm against the back of Simon’s neck.

Simon made a startled sound and jerked away from Danya’s touch, bringing his own hand up to cover his neck. “What the fuck was that?”

“His hand,” Hamish said.

Danya’s stomach clenched and he felt like he was going to be sick. He’d messed up, again, in the same way he always did. He was too bold, too independent, too presumptuous. He was no different from Fanner, really — they both knew their faults, but neither of them could keep themselves from repeating them.

“Well, it felt weird,” Simon said. “Like ice.”

He needed to apologise. He could barely breathe. Even when he tried his best he kept slipping up because he was a fraud. He could never be what he pretended.

“Sorry,” Danya managed. He sounded like a child.

Simon rubbed his hand against the back of his neck again and twisted back to glance at Danya. “It’s fine. You just caught me by surprise.”

Danya’s throat ached. He wished he could bury his face against Simon’s back without it being weird.

“Here.” Simon reached his hand back and held it out for Danya. “Necks are a bit sensitive.”

Danya took his hand and for a moment all he could do was hold it in his own and savour the contact. He didn’t deserve it, but he did need it. He took a steadily breath and slowly, carefully began to draw heat away from Simon’s skin.

“Huh,” Simon said, his fingers wiggling curiously against Danya’s. “It feels strange, but nice.”

Danya’s chest swelled with pride even though it was barely a compliment. It was the first thing he had done that Simon had even vaguely approved of.

“Let me feel,” Hamish said, reaching out for Danya’s other hand.

Simon didn’t show any signs of objection, so Danya let him take it. He shut his eyes as he focussed on drawing heat away from the two men’s skin.

It wasn’t long before Simon swatted Hamish away and claimed Danya’s other hand for himself as well. He lifted his shirt and wrapped both of Danya’s arms back around him, pressing one of Danya’s palms against his stomach and the other against his chest.

A few minutes ago Danya would have been perfectly happy if Simon had told him he would be serving Hamish instead. Now he could feel the damp warmth of Simon’s bare skin under his fingers, the steady pulse of his heartbeat, and energy flowing strong between them, and he wanted nothing more than to wholly give himself over to this man and nobody else. It took almost more self control than he possessed to keep his hands still and focus on the task he had been given.

He would never be a perfect slave, or even a particularly good one, but perhaps if he could find enough moments like this where he could make himself useful he could at least be an adequate one.

#

They kept a steady pace for most of the day, but as the sun sunk lower towards the horizon they pushed the horses harder to make it to their destination before dark. Empty scrub turned to farmer’s fields once more, and then gave way to streets packed more and more densely with crumbling, long abandoned pre-war houses.

The sun was setting by the time they reached the centre of the city where tall, inhabited buildings still stood. There was nobody on the streets, but Danya could feel the press of human life at the edge of his mind.

“Lainton’s infested with vampires,” Hamish explained as they followed the road around a collapsed building. “Me and Simon are going to be working to fix that once we finish getting his new unit together, but first we have to do diplomatic stuff with the mayor.”

“Hopefully it goes better than our last diplomatic obligation.” Simon’s gaze traced the outline of the building next to them, his body straight and rigid.

Hamish laughed. “Well, it could hardly be worse.”

“You have too much faith in me.”

Their destination was a beautiful old sandstone building that stood far shorter than the buildings surrounding it. The heavy columns along its front and the ornate carvings around the windows suggested it had been old even before the war. The newer buildings were far more utilitarian in their simplicity.

As servants took the horses away, a slightly portly older man stepped down from the stoop to greet them. His gaze held on Danya for a moment before cutting back to Simon as he forced a smile onto his face. “Welcome! I was starting to worry you might not make it before dark.”

Simon hoisted his bag over his shoulder and stepped towards the man. “I wouldn’t come within an hour’s ride of this place with only two men if I didn’t think I could make it inside before dark, Augustus.”

Augustus’ gaze cut back to Danya again. “Looks like you’ve picked up an extra.”

“He’s mine,” Simon said, some of the warmth fading from his voice. “I apologise for the lack of notice. I know mages can be a bit of a hazard in cities like these.”

Augustus dismissed the concern with a wave of his hand. “No worries, no worries. The building is secure.” He tapped one of the servants on the shoulder as she passed. “Lilly, could you make up a bed for the Captain’s slave in the servant’s quarters.”

“He’ll share my room, actually,” Simon interjected.

“Ah.” Augustus licked his lips, his gaze jumping between Simon and Danya. “Well, of course, yes, but the beds are a bit small for two I would think, so—”

“Make a cot for him on the floor, then.”

Augustus hesitated.

Before the tension could grow any further, Hamish stepped forward. “He’s a Companion, Augustus. Fine breeding. Not the sort you send off with the servants.”

“Ah, I apologise! I misunderstood the situation.” Augustus clapped his hands together. “I will make arrangements for a cot, of course.”

Simon gave a stoic nod of appreciation.

“Anyway, let’s get inside before it gets dark, shall we?” Augustus said as he lead them towards the main entrance. “I’ll have someone show you to your rooms. There’s hot water, so take your time getting ready for dinner. I’ll make sure there’s an extra seat made up for your slave.”

Simon and Hamish exchanged a look, but they didn’t comment. Having Danya sit at the table was an unconventional choice.

“Thank you,” Simon said.

The closest servant was given the job of showing them up the wide, ornate staircase. Simon thanked her stiffly once they were inside his room and then shut the door as Hamish flopped down on the bed.

“That was weird,” Hamish commented.

Simon made a sound of agreement and sat down on the edge of the bed, his brow pinched tight. He ran a hand over his hair. “Danya, go wash up for dinner.”

“Yes, sir,” Danya said. Ordinarily he should have been the last one to wash, but Simon clearly just wanted him out of the way.

“Just there and back,” Simon said as Danya’s hand closed around the doorknob. “Don’t go anywhere with anyone.”

Hamish rolled onto his side. “You don’t think anyone would mess with him, do you?”

“No,” Simon answered quickly. “Most likely Augustus just isn’t used to dealing with slaves and found the idea of me with a male slave uncomfortable. But it was weird and I don’t like it. So, Danya…”

Danya nodded. “There and back. Don’t go anywhere with anyone.”

“Good. You can go now.”

Despite Simon’s concern — or perhaps because of it — Danya felt light as he headed towards the washroom. Simon worried about him. Simon cared. Simon wanted to keep Danya with him enough to make it a point of insistence. Maybe it wasn’t the relationship Danya had always dreamt of having with his master, but it was something. It was better than he deserved.

Danya could wash himself magically so he didn’t really need to bathe, but he permitted himself the novelty of a few minutes splashing around in a bit of water before he set to properly cleaning himself and his robe. After a full day of riding with Simon, he felt fantastic. Not just properly balanced, but also stronger than he had ever felt before. It was hard to imagine how amazing he would feel if they ever connected deeply enough to have sex.

As soon as Danya was clean he headed back to Simon’s room. He paused outside and leant against the door, listening to the murmured conversation inside to determine whether it was okay to come back now or if they needed more time alone.

His back stiffened when he realised he was the topic of conversation.

“I can’t have a slave,” Simon said. He sounded tired. “You know I can’t. With everything we had planned…”

“I know, I know,” Hamish said. “What can we do about it, though?”

Simon let out a long sigh. “We’ll deal with it after we leave.”

Danya carefully stepped away from the door. His legs felt so weak he was worried he would trip over them and give himself away. Deal with it. Deal with him. He knew what that meant.

He could barely breathe as he headed back to the washroom and shut the door. Tears filled his eyes and ran hot down his cheeks. This wasn’t fair. Everything was supposed to be okay now.

Danya sat down on the floor and wrapped his arms around himself, digging his fingernails into his palms. He felt foolish and naive. He had let himself fall prey to childish fantasy. He was not wanted. He had never been and would never be wanted. Finally the day was about to arrive when he would be killed for it.

Danya wiped the tears away with the back of his sleeve. Well, not if he could help it. He needed to run away.

If he could get hold of something sharp, he could try to cut the tracking chip out of his wrist. He knew it was in there somewhere. He couldn’t run away tonight, in this city infested with vampires, but he had enough magic on hand from a full day of contact with Simon that he could probably heal any damage he did to himself removing the chip and clean up the evidence. Once it was out, he would just have to hope he found an opportunity to escape.

And then… Danya felt tears starting to fill his eyes again and rubbed at them angrily. He knew he was going to die, one way or another. Because there was nowhere to go. He would head up into the woods hoping to find someone or something that would take him in and protect him — the fae, maybe, or whatever else had hidden itself away from human civilisation.

He wouldn’t. He would be caught or he would die alone in the woods. He knew that. His only other option was to willingly surrender to death, though, and he couldn’t do that. He was a poorly bred, defiant slave. An accident. A fraud. And he was not going to die quietly.

Danya took a deep breath, wiped his eyes again, and stood up. He’d been gone too long already. He needed to get back. He took another few deep breaths until they no longer came out shaky, and then headed for the door.

He could do this. He had been trained to play a role and not let his own feelings intrude upon it. Of course, he had never been very good at that, but… he could do this.

He knocked, paused for a moment, and then entered Simon’s room. He couldn’t even look at him.

“We were about to go see where you’d gotten to,” Simon said. He was still sitting on the edge of the bed that Hamish was laying on.

Danya knew he should make an excuse, apologise, but his throat felt tight and his mind felt numb and then the silence had stretched too long. He sat down in the corner and pretended to be smoothing out his robe.

Simon stood and took a step towards him. “Did someone bother you?”

Danya swallowed hard and fought to keep his expression neutral. He had expected anger, but the faux concern hurt more. He wanted more than anything to give himself over to it, to believe in it, but he knew it wasn’t real.

He forced himself to look up at Simon. “No, sir. I didn’t see anyone else.”

Simon’s brow wrinkled as he held Danya’s gaze. Danya was the first to look away.

“Okay.” Simon turned away and went to get clean clothes from his bag. “Well, I’m going to go wash up.”

Hamish stood to follow Simon out of the room, but he paused in the doorway after Simon was gone and turned back to Danya. “You okay?”

“Yes, sir,” Danya said in his best steady, neutral tone. “I’m fine.”