A Good Servant – Ch. 14
By Laura S. Fox
Copyright © 2018 Laura S. Fox
All Rights Reserved
Intended for Mature Audiences Only
This story contains graphic depictions of sexual intercourse, strong language and it is not meant for readers who are less than 18 years of age.
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The last thing he wanted was to draw the others' attention. He was glad he had been given a larger helmet, so his forehead and half his eyes were shadowed from view. He pulled the collar of the coarse miner's uniform he was wearing a bit higher, to hide his face. His worries, however, had proved in vain so far. The hard work in the mines left little time for workers to chat up others, or even look around.
He knew from Lucas that someone was going to wait outside for him every Tuesday. He had used the time so far to explore the galleries, each time going a bit further. Trying to read the small map by the small beam generated by the flashlight on his helmet had proved tedious. And it was a different thing to make up a sense of how long the galleries were supposed to be, and where the map was actually starting.
There were no free days for miners, unlike there were for others. A small detail Cory noticed was that everyone seemed a bit older than the rest of the men toiling over their machineries in the factories located outside of Drena. They seemed to be made of harder stuff, too, and they had to be to make sure that they could survive working inside the mines. The night shift was supposed to be the worst, but Cory found quickly that night and day didn't have any meaning down there, in the pits. Keeping track of time was getting more and more difficult.
"Hey, you," he heard someone calling behind him. "It's dangerous to go that way. Come back."
He turned and moved back. No point in pursuing his explorations for now. The man who called for him turned and left, before he could reach him. He turned again to look at the gallery left behind and then he noticed a small fading light at the end of the corridor. He hesitated for a moment. At any point, he could get lost if he was to continuously roam the convoluted labyrinth. But curiosity got the best of him. Taking a last look to see if anyone else was still around, he increased his pace while heading for the small light.
It was strange. It didn't look like there was a clear source of the light, and now it was fading more and more. He hurried, trying to catch it, feeling somewhere deep inside his gut that it was important to track the light now sweeping along the walls, leaving nothing but the deepest darkness behind.
He took one corner, then another. An eerie silence was falling, surrounding him with its embrace. It felt colder, too. And, suddenly, it was all darkness. It felt as if the temperature was falling fast and he felt panic assaulting him in the pit of his stomach. He wanted to run, but his feet were like lead; his breathing became ragged, his lungs striving for air. He could feel small crystals of ice forming on his eyelids. Soon, it became harder even to blink.
He fell to his knees, his hands searching for something, anything he could hold on to. Was he going to die there? He thought of Lucas, of his warm embrace, and collapsed.
~A Good Servant~
He groaned, moving in his sleep. His eyes opened slowly, with difficulty, and he had to close them quickly. There was too much light. As he was waking up, he realized one thing. He was no longer cold. He opened his eyes again, blinking often, to adjust. The source of the light was right in front of his eyes; there, inside the wall, there was a square room encased in the solid ground. He rose to his feet and moved closer. The room itself was not the source of the incandescent light; inside the room, floating in the air, there was someone.
Frightened, Cory took a step back. His eyes were now starting to adapt, and the light no longer seemed so harsh.
He looked again. There was no doubt; the individual inside the strange casing was a woman. He had seen too few of them to know exactly how they looked like, but he could tell.
Stunned, he took in the image in front of him. The woman seemed soundly asleep, her eyes closed, with a serene expression on her face. She had long, golden hair, running to her bare feet, and she was very beautiful. The white garment she was wearing looked ethereal, as if it was made of waves and thin air. One of her hands was closed over her womb, as she was trying to protect it. The other was placed over her chest. Between her thin fingers, she held a delicate lily flower.
Cory felt a sudden sting. He grabbed his right shoulder, squeezing it, trying to ignore the pain. His brand seemed as painful now, as it did when the iron first connected with his flesh. Soon enough, the pain subsided. The light grew dim, again. Cory hurried to touch the glass, but the casing was turning into the same gallery wall surrounding him from all sides. A final glimpse of the woman inside the strange room and it was over. Cory could swear he could see the hint of a small smile on the woman's lips.
He searched with his hands for a crack in the earthy wall, but to no avail. The woman had disappeared.
He turned to face the corridor stretching in front of him. Suddenly, he knew where he was going. Steadily, he started walking. A strange, warm sensation was filling his chest. Everything was going to be all right.
~A Good Servant~
It was breaking dawn when he reached the surface. He breathed in the clean crisp air and almost felt like laughing. The white walls of Drena were standing tall in the distance. For a short moment, he imagined Lucas still there, and it felt unjust to be happy leaving his lover behind. Yet it felt so strange, so new and so amazing to realize that for his 22 years of life, he had never set foot outside of Drena, the Institution or the area that served only to supply the city with goods and labor force. It was like walking out of prison.
He watched around for any sign of a human being. It looked like he was alone. The sun was barely climbing over the horizon line. In front of him, the desert stretched, unyielding. By contrast, Drena was a geometrical wonder.
After what felt like hours, he finally saw the small black truck moving slowly in his direction. If that was not the person sent by Lucas, it could be the end for him. He steeled himself, waiting.
Finally, the truck stopped and a man who looked to be at least twice Cory's age, came out. He moved with difficulty, most probably because of his generous belly, but he went straight towards Cory. The servant watched him, then he carefully took the L shaped sigil out of his boot. Without a word, he showed it to the man.
"Come," the man gestured for him to follow.
The man fiddled with the doors at the back. He pointed out a long, dark box.
"In there," he spoke, and Cory hesitated for a fraction of a second.
The man seemed to register his unease. "You don't expect me to parade you riding next to me, do you?"
The servant no longer needed another encouragement. The man helped him get inside the box, and then unceremoniously started to drop what looked like piles of old books over him.
"Hey," he said annoyed. "Are you trying to suffocate me?"
"No, just saving your sorry ass," the man grunted as he threw another pile of books over him. "You have a hole to breathe, in that corner," he pointed out. "Special book delivery is nothing conspicuous compared to taking a miner out of Drena, don't you think?"
Cory remained silent. So the man thought he was a miner. As if he was reading thoughts, the man spoke again.
"Except that you're not a miner, are you? The most beautiful slaves of Drena don't seem to come close to you in importance," he talked as if he was trying to make sense of things for himself, more than for Cory. "Somehow you're special," he stopped to look at Cory's face, covered for the most part in soot and dirt.
The servant felt his heart growing small. Was the man going to turn him in? If he was a wise man, that was most recommended. But the man shrugged and continued with his endeavor of covering Cory in books.
"Not my business. My business is to take you to Aeria and deliver you to your destination. This is what I got paid for. And Vacchiari is a man you can trust."
Vacchiari, Cory registered. Maybe it was a good idea to remember that name.
He turned his head to one side and shielded his face, so his nose could be close to the hole in the box. When the man called Vacchiari closed the lid, he knew he was going to leave for real this time.
~A Good Servant~
"What do you have here, pops?" he heard some young men's voices outside.
"Nothing, nothing, it's nothing but books in the back," he heard Vacchiari complaining.
"So, business got slow," Cory heard a thumping sound, sign that someone was climbing in the back.
"You took everything from me last time, you dirty weasels," Vacchiari spoke.
"Watch that mouth. You don't want me to take that gold tooth from you."
"What gold tooth?"
"Don't play games with me, old man."
Vacchiari seemed to have realized it was better to shut his mouth. The lid was open and then closed again. Cory didn't even have time to panic.
"All right, it seems like you really have nothing. Just say thanks we won't take you for ransom."
"Who would pay for me?" Vacchiari's voice whined.
"Exactly. Although ..." the man seemed to ponder.
Cory strained to hear. The doors were closed again and the man seemed to have stopped just outside to talk some more to Vacchiari.
"Ayn still holds a grudge. He would love to beat the shit out of you."
"Who's Ayn?" Vacchiari questioned, visibly annoyed with the prospect of having an enemy he knew nothing about.
Ayn, Cory thought. Maybe that was just a coincidence and nothing more.
"Just someone you took like an animal and sold in the white city," the man continued.
Cory could barely refrain the wish to jump out of his box and go to that man and ask him about Ayn. There could only be one Ayn.
"Don't remember," Vacchiari faked a sudden memory loss.
"Don't worry, he does," the man laughed.
Cory's mind was in turmoil. He had to respect Lucas's wish, though. And who was to say if this man who claimed to know Ayn was friend or foe? The fact that Vacchiari had been the one to sell Ayn to Xavier was not very settling, either. The man was nothing but a merchant, so his loyalties were dictated by nothing else but cold hard cash.
They moved again, and Cory thought he might have just missed his only chance to meet Ayn again.
~A Good Servant~
The box was lifted by strong hands and carried outside the truck. Cory hoped he was now at his destination. His limbs had gone all numb and he could really use a bathroom. It was strange how he could think of such mundane things while he was basically on the run for his life. He had no doubts the Trainers could not be pleased with his escape.
Eventually, all movement stopped and he heard someone moving around, lifting the lid. Books were taken from the pile on top of his body.
"How to Behave in Polite Society, The 10 Most Common Rules of Baccarat, ..." he heard someone reading random titles.
Was the guy for real? He was going to register each and every book, totally ignoring what lay below the pile? Or better said, who? Was he even where he was supposed to be? Without thinking further, he moved energetically, making books and broken pages fly around. He breathed deeply and looked at a man who seemed to be in his early 30s.
His so called host was looking at him amused through what looked like circles made of glass. Cory watched his face carefully. The strange contraption on his nose was making him look older, but he could not be more than 27 or 28 years of age. He was very thin, wearing a tweed suit that had definitely seen better days, and his lips were twisting in amusement.
"Who are you?" Cory eventually managed.
"That is a question I should ask you, young man," the host spoke pompously.
For some reason, Cory felt like laughing. Normally, he should have been mad or scared seeing that the man showed no signs of knowing who he was.
"I'm just joking," the man waved and hurried to help Cory out of the box. "I'm Edgar, Lucas's friend. Welcome to Aeria, Cory."
~A Good Servant~
After a shower, a good meal and dressed in clean clothes, Cory felt as good as new. It felt so strange to be far away from home, and yet feel so comfortable. In Edgar's home, there seemed to be nothing but books everywhere, but basic living features like chairs and tables were still present.
He went to the window and looked outside. He withdrew right away.
"What's wrong?" Edgar looked up from his reading.
"I'm not supposed to be seen, right?"
"Relax," Edgar waved. "We're all a bunch of mad scientists around. No one will notice you."
"Really? No one?" Cory asked, visibly surprised.
"Well, you are really aesthetically pleasing, and that may have some of my lady friends talking. I will tell them you are someone I know from Bluesilver."
"What's Bluesilver?" Cory asked.
"A city state up north. Don't worry. After the novelty will wear off, no one is going to pay you any attention. I hope you don't feel affronted, do you?" Edgar asked, quirking an eyebrow.
Cory shrugged. "I am totally fine with that. But wouldn't it be strange for me to appear like this, out of nowhere?"
"I won't parade you everywhere. But I won't hide you, either. That would be too conspicuous. Hiding things in plain view is the best strategy."
"How come?" Cory sat on a chair and pressed his palms against his knees.
"I used to play all kinds of games with Lucas. It is just a rule we came up with for hide and seek."
"Lucas played hide and seek?" Cory wished he could know Lucas from that age, when such games were normal.
"A special kind of hide and seek. It was more like treasure hunting, I think," Edgar pondered. "All right, maybe a bit of disguising wouldn't hurt ... Let's see. Maybe make you wear a hat. Or glasses. Or both."
"What are glasses?" Cory asked, feeling that his question might seem a bit dumb.
Edgar didn't seem surprised with Cory's question. He took the contraption off his nose and showed it to Cory. "These are."
Cory took them and studied them. He tried to put them on, as he had seen Edgar doing, and he scrunched his nose.
"My eyes," he complained as he took the glasses off. "Why do you force yourself to hurt your eyes?" he questioned.
Edgar laughed this time. "They help me see better. I heard from Lucas that everyone in Drena is perfect. So I assume no one needs glasses there. In my case, I would not be able to go from my bedroom to the bathroom without them. I'm as blind as a bat," he joked, scratching one of his ears.
"Unfortunately, I won't be able to wear them. I think I will end up smashing my head around."
"I won't give you mine. I'll give you some fake ones. They will be nothing but ordinary glass. They won't hurt your eyes."
"Edgar, you know so many things," Cory expressed his admiration.
Edgar coughed, a bit embarrassed. "That's nothing. You just didn't have the chance to see anyone with glasses in Drena. The Trainers are promising us all the other cities will be that way one day. Perfect."
Cory shook, feeling a chill traveling down his spine. "I doubt Drena is perfect," he murmured, and unconsciously grabbed his right shoulder.
Edgar smiled at him. "I doubt it, too. Plus, where would people like me and my friends be in that perfect world?"
There was a small exchange between them; they could understand each other. Cory felt his chest growing warmer.
"It's ok if I look out the window?"
"Go ahead. Ah, I have an idea. What color do you want your hair dyed? Do you want to change eye color, too? That's a bit more difficult, but still doable. If we make a few changes, you will no longer be able to recognize yourself in the mirror."
"I'm counting on that," Cory spoke with a smile, and he went to the window.
The cobblestone street looked pretty animated at that hour. Men in high hats, walking in groups of two or three, were conversing vividly. Sometimes, women dressed in what looked like terribly convoluted outfits, with all kinds of ruffles and frills, were joining them. Cory could hear them laughing.
"The people here seem happy."
"Aren't people in Drena happy, as well? I heard from Lucas that it's a permanent party down there. Everyone is beautiful and there is nothing people could wish for."
"By people do you mean the Masters?" Cory asked, a genuine expression on his face.
Edgar coughed, a bit embarrassed. "I suppose ... I didn't mean it to sound like ..."
Cory came to his aid. "That's no problem. I think this is how everyone looks at things anyway."
"Not everyone," Edgar seemed to ponder, while pushing his glasses back, a small habit Cory was starting to notice when the man was thinking whether he should speak or not. "Lucas sent you here. He didn't tell me much ... but I gathered that you were ... his lover?"
Edgar's cheeks seemed a little pink. Cory thought the small change in his demeanor was making him look younger.
"Yes," he said without hesitation. "I hope so, I mean. What I want to say is ..." he stopped for a brief second to find the right words, "it was more than sex. It still is."
Edgar shook his head a little, like some nasty insects were bugging him. Cory read the situation right away.
"Are you ... embarrassed with this subject, Edgar?"
"What subject?" the man murmured, this time taking his glasses off to fiddle with them.
"You know ... sex."
"Coitus," Edgar spoke. "This is how it is called here. It is a scientific term," he explained as Cory quirked an eyebrow questioningly.
"That sounds terrible," the former servant spoke. "This is how people here refer to when ... you know ..."
Somehow, Edgar's embarrassment was transferring to him. He wished they weren't having that conversation.
"Oh, no, we do not indulge in such acts here. It is strictly forbidden. And unnecessary," Edgar almost shouted while raising his hands in defense.
Cory's eyes grew wide. "But Lucas ..."
"He left for Drena when he was really young. We used to question ourselves about it ... he told me on more than one occasion that he found the approach in Drena on the matter more natural, but in the same time more bothersome for some reason he didn't care to elaborate. I didn't press the matter, either," Edgar put his glasses back on.
"And ... what do people do ..."
"We have a special machine built to sublimate our inappropriate thoughts into more brain power," Edgar answered promptly. "Too bad the machine seems to fry our brains, but that is not something you heard from me," he continued.
Cory didn't hide his shock. "You get killed for feeling sexual desire towards someone?"
"Well, ... eventually. But it's not a problem. Frankly, after the age of 35, one can barely come up with something new in mathematics or physics, so their utility ends anyway. I suppose it's not a bad way to go, wrapped in a stimulus of ideas swarming in your brain."
Something in Edgar's voice sounded off; Cory was no fool to believe the lie the man was basically telling himself.
Cory looked towards the window, thinking of the men and women conversing in the street.
"Men and women, too?"
"Yes, every one. We have a very clear role that we need to comply with. Of course, if you manage to keep yourself away of any desire, you get to live longer."
"Have you been using this sublimation machine a lot of times?" Cory inquired.
"A few times," Edgar averted his eyes.
A strange sensation was creeping in, Cory could tell. "Is my presence here a problem?" he blurted out. Back in Drena, there had been quite a few men to express their sexual interest in him.
Edgar looked at him surprised. "Oh, no, Cory, no, please, do not misunderstand! Besides being Lucas's lover, I am also not at all attracted by men. But," he sighed, "there is a lady ... She's called Lena. Her equations are so ... perfect," he whispered. "I have to steer clear of her. Each time we met, we have such a wonderful time, completing each other's research ... but, each time after that, I have to go use the machine, and it's embarrassing and ..."
Edgar shook his head gently. "She doesn't understand why I do not seek her companionship. I would not dream of telling her that."
Cory mumbled. "So sorry to hear that. But, if you are all here scientists, why don't you perfect the machine? Or find another way?"
"The machine was sent here by the Trainers. We are not allowed to fiddle with it. And there are certain things even a mad scientist doesn't touch."
The threat was there, floating in the air, left unspoken. Aeria was no shelter after all, Cory thought.
"But enough about such depressing things," Edgar linked his fingers and looked at Cory. "Do you know how to read and write?"
"Yes," Cory answered, without feeling insulted in any way.
"Good. We have a lot of research to do, besides my usual work. Actually, I cannot slack off or everyone will notice. I am afraid a lot will fall on your shoulders," Edgar smiled and lifted a heavy tome from the table, handing it to Cory.
"What are we looking for?" the former servant asked, without hiding his excitement.
"Our beginnings," Edgar said plainly and Cory nodded.
To learn where they had to go, they had to learn where they came from. He thought about telling Edgar about the woman he saw in the depths of Drena's mines, but the man seemed so engrossed in his work that he decided to postpone that conversation for a later date.
~A Good Servant~
Xavier rolled from one side to another, almost crashing into Ayn's hard chest. He wished he could pretend he was still asleep, but Ayn's right hand immediately started to travel on his flank, going down and moving on the back to grab his ass. He groaned.
"Really? There is nothing else on your mind?" he said through his teeth.
"And why wouldn't it be?" Ayn's black eyes snapped open, to stare at him. "Should I remind you this was the only thing you wanted to do with me when we were in your shitty city?"
"Shitty city? Oh, we must be living in paradise then!" Xavier had the nerve to look affronted.
"Sorry, Mr. Pompous Ass, not everyone is born with a silver spoon in his mouth like you," Ayn retorted, and squeezed the man's ass tighter.
"I was not!" Xavier protested. "I'll have you know that I worked my ass off to become who I was in Drena. And you basically took everything ..."
Ayn stopped Xavier's torrent of words with a kiss. Grey eyes stared at him in anger, making him laugh.
"C'mon, Xav, you hated it there. You almost always had a sour expression on your face, like you had only lemons for breakfast, lunch and dinner."
"I was definitely not!" Xavier wanted to protest, anything just to contradict the uncouth man he was currently sharing a bed with.
"Oh, yeah?" Ayn left Xavier's ass alone to stretch and yawn. "I felt you would be good at taking me and enjoying it. Yet, you could not just submit and let yourself go... If you were so free there, how come you didn't wiggle your tail more to show me how much you wanted me to mount you?"
Annoyed with Ayn's bawdy words, Xavier bolted from the bed.
"Where are you going?" Ayn looked after him, visibly curious.
"I'm taking a shower," Xavier threw back over his shoulder.
"Again? Too bad. I wanted to take you outside," the man spoke casually.
Xavier made a one eighty in a split of a second. "Really? Aren't you afraid I'm going to run?" he cocked his head to one side and stared at Ayn in disbelief.
The other man shrugged. "Frankly, I think you are well adjusted. And where would you run?"
"My clothes are dirty," Xavier crossed his arms over his chest.
"Do I fucking look like a laundry machine? And those rags?" Ayn snorted. "I burned them."
"You what?" Xavier's eyes grew wide. "I hope you don't intend to parade me naked all over the place. I will not have it!"
"Chillax, dude," Ayn laughed. "I got you some normal clothes. Here, only those who bury the dead wear black. I am not keeping you around looking like the harbinger of death. Now, don't you want to get into your new clothes?"
Ayn didn't wait for an answer and moved to rummage through the only closet present in the room. He eventually threw a pair of jeans, a white shirt and a leather jacket, together with a pair of combat boots, on the bed. He gestured to Xavier.
"Come, dress up. Don't make me do it for you. My job is only to undress you," he joked, earning a venomous look from Xavier.
The former Ruler of Drena moved and took the clothes from the bed. It was better than nothing. After wearing nothing but silk all his life, the new clothes felt coarse against his skin. But they were not bad. After inspecting himself as much as he could, he raised his eyes to see Ayn watching him with renewed interest.
"Well?" he hooked his thumbs in the waistband of his jeans.
"Well, I think I'll have to chase a bunch of girls and guys away with a stick, because you look absolutely fuckable," Ayn said with admiration.
Xavier could not admit the remark made him feel good. Instead, he pursed his lips in annoyance.
"Are we going or not?"
"Not so fast," Ayn closed the distance between them. "First, suck my dick."
Xavier rolled his eyes. Ayn smirked and grabbed Xavier's cock through his jeans. "I'll suck yours, too," he promised and stuck his tongue out, provoking the other.
That was not something Xavier could simply overlook. He suddenly closed his mouth over Ayn, sucking the other's tongue in, showing that he was not afraid to take on the challenge. It was a short battle of wills, with no definite victor.
He was the one to interrupt the kiss. Ayn's lips glistened, and the thought of having the guy's mouth wrapped around his cock, sucking him dry, drove him to speak.
"Get on your knees then," he looked at the guy, his eyes at half mast.
There was a short moment of hesitation in deep black pools, and Xavier steeled himself for a fight. But Ayn slowly descended, his eyes glued to Xavier's grey ones.
His cock freed from the constraints of his jeans, Xavier threw his head back, breaking eye contact. There was heat and there was moisture, as his organ was engulfed by the other's greedy mouth. Just a small hint of teeth grazing over the sensitive skin made him hiss.
"Watch it," he warned.
A tongue wrapping around his member silenced him. It looked like Ayn had learned a thing or two during the times when Xavier had sucked him dry. He didn't find it suitable to let the man know he was coming. Instead, he grabbed at raven strands, and pushed his cock deeper, relishing in hearing the other's labored breath, as he struggled to take all of him.
He could feel his toes curling inside his boots, as pleasure washed over him, as Ayn swallowed. He didn't have time to enjoy the aftermath for too long, though. He was unceremoniously pushed on the bed; hurriedly, Ayn straddled him and took his own engorged cock out of his pants.
"Open," Ayn commanded in a strained voice. Xavier could see a few droplets of white fluid still hanging on the man's lips. The view was more than satisfactory. He didn't have to be told twice. He let the meaty organ pass through his lips. The entrance was a bit forceful, but he could take it. It was a good sensation to feel Ayn's cock hitting the back of his throat. He moved enough to adjust the position, so that the guy's organ could slide back and forth with ease. Ayn was fucking his mouth, whispering dirty words.
Their eyes met briefly when Ayn looked down.
"Fucking wonderful cocksucker, you're the best," the man praised him and let his essence flow inside his lover's mouth.
He tasted Ayn fully. It felt so deeply familiar, that he could not recall anything else. It was like Ayn was pouring himself inside him, permeating his very being, until there was a connection being built between them that neither of them could escape.
Ayn withdrew and plopped himself next to Xavier. They were both sweaty and breathing heavily. Ayn turned and grabbed his neck, forcing him into a kiss.
"I love your taste," Ayn murmured. "I love your mouth."
Xavier thought briefly, as their tastes mixed, that if he were to enumerate the things he loved about Ayn, it would take him days and nights to finish. He loved everything about Ayn.
~A Good Servant~
Dion looked up the sky. It was going to rain. He had had to leave earlier from work, due to a temporary outage, but he was glad. He had enough time to cook something for him and John. If they had come back from work together, Dion would have doubted having time to cook anything. John seemed to have only one thing on his mind, and it was always a miracle that they managed to open the door to their small home and get inside. After that, it was all about John getting inside Dion, and nothing else mattered.
He fiddled for his keys.
"Hi," he heard a voice, a bit unsteady.
He raised his eyes to see Andreas huddled on the steps, right in front of the entrance. The clothes he wore looked thin, totally unfit for the kind of rain that was going to pour soon from the darkening sky.
The blond looked thin, too.
"Hi," Dion answered. "Are you looking for John?" he asked hesitantly.
He had no reason to fear Andreas. Something more akin to pity nestled in his chest.
"No, actually ... I was looking for you," Andreas spoke softly. "I wanted to ask you something."
"All right," Dion nodded. "Come inside, I'll make some tea."
Andreas looked around, balancing his weight on one leg, than the other. "I shouldn't. It's just a small question."
Dion waved. "Nonsense. It's going to rain soon. Come inside and you can warm up a bit."
He didn't wait for Andreas's response this time. He opened the door and let the other follow.
He started making tea, while encouraging Andreas to take a seat in the small, clean kitchen.
"How did you make John care so much about you?" Andreas asked, as Dion placed a hot cup of tea in front of him.
Dion shrugged. "I don't know. I really liked him, right from the start. I thought he hated me," he chuckled softly. "I think because of you," he looked at Andreas questioningly.
The blond made himself little in his chair. "Yes, I guess," he sighed. "Have you ever, you know, lost something, and didn't realize you wanted it until it wasn't yours anymore?"
Dion rested his chin in his right palm. "You made the wrong choice, is this what you want to say?"
Andreas nodded slowly. He made a move to rise.
"Wait, don't go," Dion stopped him. "Say it to me straight. Do you still like John?"
The blond averted his eyes.
"It's all right to be honest," Dion continued.
"You won't get mad?" Andreas asked.
Dion shrugged. "Well, he went to see you plenty of times, while I was waiting for him here."
"And I was used to seeing him all the time. It was like our ... thing was continuing in a fucked up way. But you came, and this changed. And it wasn't until recently that I understood that I really lost him."
Silence followed, as the two ex servants looked at each other, in understanding.
"I really have to go. Thank you for the tea," Andreas rose. "Good luck, Dion. You really have a good man. Take good care of him."
Dion wanted to stop Andreas again, but this time, the blond hurried to the door, ignoring him.
~A Good Servant~
"That smells terrific," John spoke happily, as he entered the kitchen and grabbed Dion's waist, making him turn and kissing him deeply. "I heard your unit was in outage, so I knew you must be home, cooking."
"It's one of my favorite pastimes, you know that," Dion chirped and kissed John shortly. "Take a seat, it's almost ready."
Dion waited until after dinner to tell his lover about the visit from earlier. As John measured him up and down with burning eyes, he knew he had one small window of opportunity, before the man was going to jump him, and there was not going to be any conversation possible.
"Andreas came by today."
John frowned. "What did he want?"
"He just wanted to know how I managed to make you like me," Dion said plainly, gauging John's every reaction.
The man shifted in his place. "You did it by not being a dirty little whore, like him," John muttered.
John's anger was palpable. But there was something else there, and Dion wanted to know all about it.
"You never told me about what happened between you two," he said gently, while taking a seat across from John.
"There's nothing to tell."
"Come on, John. Don't let this get between us. Did you like him?"
"Not as much as I like you," John answered, looking straight at Dion.
"That's good to know," Dion smiled. "But don't worry. This conversation is not some kind of trap. Even when you went to ... relieve yourself, you still picked him. Why?"
John looked sideways and shook his head in annoyance. "I don't know. He was there. Nothing but convenience."
"Truly?" Dion pressed.
John's jaw tensed. "Yeah! What do you want me to say?"
"I want nothing but the truth, John, that's all. He still likes you."
There was a small sign of surprise in John's black eyes, but it died right away.
"I don't think so. I think he has regrets," Dion spoke.
"That's his fucking business. Look, Dion, he's just playing, all right? He just lost a paying customer!"
"Admit it, John. You never let go, either. Not for good. You went to see him," Dion explained.
Apparently, that was not the right thing to say. John rose from his place and started pacing the room.
"Are you fucking jealous, Dion? You're the one here, aren't you? Are you not satisfied? I cannot wipe away the past, all right?"
Dion watched him, pondering. "I'm not jealous," he said plainly.
John snorted. "Then what do you want?"
"I want you to admit you still like Andreas, too."
Dion's hazel eyes were glued to John's every move.
"I cannot believe this," John stopped and crossed his strong arms over his chest, staring Dion down. "Tell me, Dion, what's the right answer to this? Either way, I'm fucked, right? I say `yes', and you'll bolt out through that door. I say `no', and you'll call me a liar."
"You're wrong," Dion said, shaking his head slowly.
"Am I?" John leaned in slightly. "Look, Dion, he's there, you're here. There's no other thing to say."
"I don't want you to have any regrets," Dion continued.
"What regrets?" John threw his arms to the sides in an exasperated gesture.
"Are you telling me you do not care that he's there, doing what he is doing?"
John huffed. "It's not my fucking fault, is it?"
"I am not asking you this. But you are asking yourself, aren't you?" Dion didn't look intimidated.
"Yeah, all right, I am! I am wondering why I didn't keep him, ok? Why didn't I insist that he didn't leave? I have no idea! Satisfied now?"
Dion sighed. "As you can see, nothing you say surprises me."
"Oh, so you don't care!" John accused. "Fuck it! There wasn't going to be any sex for me tonight anyway, right?"
Dion's eyes grew wide. "Why on earth ..." he tried to express his indignation over John's accusation, but the large man stormed the room, slamming the door to the bedroom behind him.
The redhead scratched his head. Actually, things weren't so complicated. John might have thought so, but they weren't.
They didn't speak much on their way to work the next day. Since the outage was ongoing, and they were reassigned to other departments, Dion had the chance to leave early again. This time, he knew what he was going to do.
~A Good Servant~
John entered his home, moving slowly this time. He had made too much of a scene the other day to continue to stay angry at Dion. When he looked up, he froze.
"Hi, John," Andreas waved at him.
He looked at the blond, than at Dion, than back at Andreas.
He closed the door behind him, just to gain more time. Eventually, he had to face his two lovers.
"All right, can someone please explain what is going on?" he asked. He looked insistently at Dion. The redhead sustained his gaze, completely imperturbable.
"What is going on, John," Dion spoke, "is that you need to be shown a few things. I will tell you just this. That what will happen here will not have to change anything between us. That you and you alone can decide what you really want, and whatever you choose, Andreas and I will understand and support your decision. All right?"
John frowned. Dion was obviously trying to give him a serious headache.
"What?" was the only thing he managed to say.
Dion smiled and took Andreas's hand. He slowly moved and cupped the blond's cheek with his other hand, bringing him closer to kiss him gently on the lips.
John gasped and blinked. In front of him, the only two guys who had ever managed to rock his world, were kissing slowly. Dion was now slowly removing Andreas's shirt, and the blond was also trying to get the redhead out of his clothes.
Soon enough, they were both naked, and it made John feel the familiar strain inside his pants. Dion and Andreas were caressing each other's naked backs and butts, and watching felt like too much. Or too little.
Dion broke the kiss and challenged John. "Are you going to stay there all day or are you going to join us?"
He almost tore off the buttons of his shirt, as he started to undress. If someone had told him he was going to have his biggest fantasy happening in front of his eyes, he would have sent that someone straight to the mental house. He grabbed the two thin waists forcefully, and made Dion and Andreas almost crash against his hairy chest.
"Are you trying to make me lose my mind, Dion?" he murmured, as he bit the redhead's lips. "You know there's no coming back from it," he warned.
"I'm betting on it. Kiss Andreas now," Dion encouraged him. "We're dying to suck your cock."
That earned him a murderous look from John, but the man complied, and brought Andreas closer to kiss him roughly. The blond mewled into the kiss, surprised by John's determination.
"It's not going to be roses and soft kisses this time, Andreas," he warned the blond, and Andreas just nodded. "You two, you have no idea what you have gotten yourselves in," he looked into Andreas's blue eyes, then into Dion's warm brown ones.
Dion giggled. "Scary," he commented breathily and winked at Andreas.
Both got on their knees and Dion grabbed John's huge cock, giving it a tentative lick. He guided Andreas to take John's cock in his mouth, while he started to lavish the guy's heavy ball sac with kisses. The blond wanted to be generous, too, as he withdrew a little and helped Dion taste the guy's cock, too. Their soft lips wrapped over the long shaft, pushing it through their kisses, playing with it.
"You two are going to be the death of me," John murmured. "I want an ass to fuck and I want it now."
Dion rose and dragged Andreas with him.
"Let's go to the bedroom then," he spoke and John hurried after them.
Andreas was placed on his fours by the redhead who quickly proceeded at licking the guy's ass. Small soft grunts escaped the blond's lips, while John was watching them with dark eyes.
"Are you sure about this, Andreas?" he moved to kneel between the long legs, as Dion wrapped his thin fingers around his shaft to help him maintain his erection.
He didn't really need any help with that, but Dion's intentions were more than laudable.
"Yes, John, fuck me," Andreas pushed his ass back.
John looked at Dion. "Are you really ok with this?" he asked. "One word from you is enough."
"Yes, I am," Dion admitted. "Let's see now if you have enough stamina for the both of us," he joked and winked at John. He leaned over Andreas's prone body to quickly prepare the guy. John was not going to be patient.
A hard slap over his ass made him yelp. "Hold Andreas's ass. He won't be able to walk after this, so remember you two asked for it," John added and plunged deep in the sexy hole presented to him.
Andreas gasped loudly, but pushed back to meet the assault. John slammed hard inside him, grunting. "You always said I was too big," he managed to say, while pumping deep.
"You are, but it feels so good to have my ass destroyed like this by you," Andreas moaned and threw his head back. "Dion, please," he begged and the redhead moved to position himself in front of Andreas.
John was beginning to feel that he was going into a veritable sensory overload, as he saw Dion pushing his delicate cock through Andreas's rosy lips. He could not see much from where he stood, but the expression of pure bliss on the redhead's face was telling him Andreas was doing a pretty good job with him.
"Thank you," he dragged Dion in for a kiss, over Andreas's arching back, as he released himself deep in the pliant body he was riding.
Dion kissed him back passionately. Making his lover happy was the one thing that could make him happy beyond his words, too.
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