I has been a while, and since I have gotten unbelievably busy I decided to write something longer and more contained (I hope), I hope you enjoy! And thank you to the wonderful Keket Gipsy for helping me :)
Ian knelt on the bathroom floor. This was not how he had first imagined his first sexual experience. But what he really didn't expect was the slap against his cheek. He looked up slowly when the sting began to fade.
"You dirty slut. I told you to take out my dick." Ian looked up at the man in front of him and wondered why he had chosen this day to go to the seedy bar on the edge of town. What had made him think there would be any gay guys there, let alone any his age. The man above him wavered in Ian's eyes. The man had bought Ian a drink, and Ian had drunk it, and the next, and the next. And now he was kneeling on the bathroom floor looking up at a man who had to be at least 15 years older than him. A mad that had the worst of intentions. A man Ian should have know to stay away from.
"The fuck are you waiting for slut? Get to work." Ian couldn't seem to make himself move. He gazed up at the man and considered all the decisions that brought him to this place and cursed each one.
"Stupid slut." The man hit Ian again- this time with his fist.
Ian opened his eyes slowly. The man had beaten him steadily until he lay on the floor unmoving. It seemed quiet so Ian sat up, his head was pounding and he felt disgusting inside and out. He felt hands in his hair pulling him slowly to his knees.
"There you go, now open that pretty little mouth." Ian closed his eyes, and opened his mouth.
"What are you doing?" There was another voice in the room; Ian was pushed to the floor, his teeth clicked shut on his mouth and fresh blood seemed down his chin. He let his eyes close and listened to the sound of someone else being battered with fists stronger than his own.
Ian felt warm and safe. The fear that had haunted him for years had faded. He had slept without dreams.
"Good afternoon." Ian's eyes shot open, well one of them did. Nothing hurt but he was aware of all the places he had been hit. His swollen left eye one of them.
"Who are you?" Ian tried to push himself away but his limbs moved as if he were swimming through Jell-O.
"My name is Luke." The man's voice was soft; it didn't seem to fit his features. His dark wavy hair fell into his eyes and his dark eyes betrayed no emotion.
"My name is Ian. Where am I?" Once his surprise wore off the feeling of safety and comfort returned.
"You are in my home. I have to leave soon but feel free to stay here until you feel better. You took quite a beating." Ian nodded, he was remembering now. He blushed slowly when he imagined what he had looked like on the floor, what he had obviously been planning.
"There is no need to be embarrassed. The only one at fault is the one who meant to harm you, who struck you. You could have died and he cared not."
"Well if I hadn't gone, I could have said no, I could have run away..." Ian trailed off; there were so many decisions he had made. And any one of them could have prevented the incident.
"Ian, it is not your fault. I do not want you to speak- or think this way any more. You can be angry, upset, whatever- just as long as what you are feeling is not guilt." Luke's soft voice sounded almost angry. Ian nodded and slid down under the covers. Luke smiled slightly and tucked the covers around him.
"Sleep a bit more, then we'll have lunch."
Lunch? Ian wondered, it had been early evening when he left for the bar- now it was nearly time for lunch? There was little light in the room, and none of it natural. Ian also didn't see any clocks. Figuring it would all work out Ian let himself slip back into sleep, and dreams of comfort and warmth.
Bennet pulled his arm away from the doctor for the third time. Ever since his 18th birthday he had gone through this each year. And this year he could barely stand to feel the doctors warm dry skin on his. He couldn't stand for anyone to touch him.
"Bennet, you are only making this harder for yourself." Dr. Stevens had a point, but the logic didn't help Bennet relax. "Your father will be very upset if this isn't finished in the next 15 minutes."
"Just say you did it, and leave." Bennet suggested. No one needed a tetanus shot every year whether they worked with rusted metal routinely or not. It was excessive, just like everything else Bennet's father insisted on.
"Bennet you know that is not an option. Just sit still for one minute." The doctor's unnaturally strong hand clamped around Bennet's elbow and slid the needle home. The burn of the injection was more painful than Bennet remembered, and it seemed to spread slowly even as the Dr. Stevens pulled out the needle.
"That wasn't so bad was it? " Bennet glared and slipped out of the chair. "Your father wishes to see you." Stevens called after him. Bennet flipped him the bird.
"Son, your attitude has to improve." Bennet stood in front of his father's desk in his study. His hands rested behind his back. He didn't answer. "It has to improve today as you will be helping your mother host a business dinner later this evening. You will be dressed and downstairs at eight sharp. You will be civil to all the guests." Bennet stared at his father.
"It is six now. I have to shower and I planned on taking a nap, or going to bed early. You know I just saw Dr. Stevens and-"
"You will do as I say." Bennet considered continuing to argue but knew it would do no good.
"May I take your coat?" Bennet asked for the seeming millionth time.
"No thank you." Bennet looked up. The blond man looked nothing like his father's usual associates. His blond hair hung in his eyes and the hint of stubble graced his cheeks. And he was under the age of 60; in fact he couldn't have been more than five years older than Bennet.
"Uhh hi." Bennet was at a loss. Usually these events and the small talk that went with them were easy for him, but his tiredness and this man's beauty threw him.
"Hello. You must be Bennet. Pleased to meet you." The man turned and walked away. Bennet would have followed but there were more guests to attend to, more coats to store, more middle aged associates to impress.
"Do we have to go?" Ryder crawled back under the covers and looked up at his lover. "I just want to stay here with you." He reached a hand out to brush down Tove's coat tails.
"Yes we have to go. Get up." Ryder pulled the covers over his head and squirmed down to the center of the bed, sighing as the silk brushed against his naked body.
"Ryder get up and get dressed. Stalling will get you nothing but punishment, and you will still have to go, only with a sore ass." Ryder considered then slipped out of bed at the foot. He stalked across the room to the closet where his suit hung on the door. He shot is most enticing look over his shoulder and slipped on his pants- sans underwear. Tove groaned and left the room.
"I'll bring the car around."
Ryder listened to Tove's footsteps leave the room. When he was sure he was gone he sighed and flopped back on the bed. He guessed he had about ten minutes until Tove came looking for him. After watching the fan spin lazily for what he estimated was seven minutes, Ryder put on his shirt and coat and made his way as slowly as he could to the drive.
The party was just as Ryder expected. Boring, stuffy and with no one he wanted to talk to. The son of the host looked like he might be interesting but he disappeared early in the evening leaving Ryder to follow after Tove like a very bored puppy.
"This is Ryder." For the millionth time Ryder smiled at another important businessman as Tove introduced him.
"Hello, pleased to meet you." Ryder said it in one breath and stuck out his hand. When the man didn't take it Ryder raised his eyes to the man's. He was tall, solid without being bulky- and looked the faintest bit familiar.
"If only I could get my son to behave as well as you." The man had gloves on his hands and did not take Ryder's. Ryder lowered his hand and blushed. What was he supposed to say to that?
"You make me feel old Daire! I hope your son isn't quite as old as Ryder." The man laughed and Tove pulled Ryder into a one armed hug. Ryder eyed the man. He didn't look old enough to have a son his age. Then Ryder looked at Tove and realized he didn't know how old his boyfriend was. Feeling vaguely uncomfortable Ryder slipped from under Tove's arm in search for a drink.
"Are you old enough to be drinking that?" Ryder gripped his appletini protectively. He needed it. Especially if people he didn't know kept talking to him.
"Umm, I just- yes I am old enough." And he was, worst came to worst and he would just have to put the drink back, he should have brought ID. Well even if someone took it could always drink Tove's. The other boy laughed quietly.
"Don't worry, these parties are awful. I would never come, but seeing as it is my house they are rather difficult avoid." So this was the ill behaved son.
"I met your father." Ryder smiled as he spoke, maybe something interesting would happen, the other boy flinched.
"Oh, well I guess giving you a fake name won't work then. I'm Bennet Daire. And you are?"
"Oh umm Ryder. Ryder Sionn. I came with Leo Torvald. I am not nearly important enough to rate an invitation." Ryder leaned against the wall. He was glad he wasn't required to participate in the actual dinner that was to follow, and especially the discussion. He always got the impression that everything was a code for something else. He usually just played games on his phone under the table. Well until Tove noticed. Then he just had to wait till the dinner ended.
"I've never heard of him. Does he have another name? It seems all my father's associates call themselves something other than their Christian name." Bennet mimicked Ryder's position, then slowly slid down to the floor, Ryder followed.
"Umm, some people call him Tove, if that is what you mean." Bennet went very still.
"That name I have definitely heard."
"Why do you say it like that, is he mentioned in a bad way? Anyway do you know anything about what this dinner is about? Tove never tells me, he just drags me along and I am always more confused after."
Bennet let his head fall back against the wall.
"I try to stay out of it, I probably know even less than you." The two looked at each other, wondering what to say next. They didn't need to worry.
"Dinner is ready. Everyone is invited to make his or her way to the dining room." A woman in a black dress and white belt walked through the room ringing a small bell.
"Well maybe we will talk later? If I 'lollygag' my father will have my head, maybe we will be seated next to each other." Ryder nodded, and the two walked, rather quickly, to the dining room.
It turned out that Ryder and Bennet were nowhere near each other on the massive oak table, but Bennet was just across from the golden hired man.
When Ian woke again he knew where he was, and he was comfortable with it. He wasn't worried about hurrying home; his mother couldn't care less where he was. It wasn't entirely her fault, when Ian's father had been killed she had never recovered. No matter what drugs the doctors gave her, she would never come back. And is brother had never cared for him and probably never would. He knew his family could be worse, but he couldn't help but resent them. Now, somehow, it didn't matter. He felt like he was out of time, he knew it was passing. He had felt rested, and sharp pains were fading into bone deep aches.
Ian rolled out of the bed slowly. His pants and shirt were gone, he still wore his purple briefs, but they were- rather brief. He wrapped himself in a blanket from the bed. It smelled safe and he wrapped it around him tightly breathing in deeply before he ventured from the room.
The house was small but cozy. Ian had no trouble finding the kitchen. The smell of tomato soup and toasting bread lead him right to it.
"Awake again, how do you feel?" Luke's soft voice seemed to draw Ian in, he walked to the island and slid into a chair, but really he just wanted to walk into Luke's arms. Ian shook himself telling himself it was only because Luke had saved him, and he hadn't had many hugs, or saviors since his dad died, but deep inside he knew it was something more.
"I feel like-" Ian tried to think of a good analogy, one that wasn't overused as 'hit by a Mac truck' but "-like I was hit by a really big car." Was not better. Luke smiled.
"I guess that is slightly less bad than a truck?" Ian felt his cheeks heating and he curled the blanket tighter around him. When he looked up again he found himself looking into a bowl of soup with delicious crusty bread next to it.
"I know you aren't sick, but comfort food seemed to be in order." It was perfect. Ian didn't want to appear rude, or like he had been raised by wolves but it was too good to eat slowly. The fact that someone cared enough to make him food, and wonder if it was the right kind of food was overwhelming.
Ian put down the spoon and pulled his right hand back inside the blanket, he shivered once then began to cry. He never cried. Startled by his own reaction, Ian hiccupped, then began crying harder. He had finally found a place he felt safe enough to show what the past years had done to him, and it was in a stranger's house dressed in only in a blanket.
Luke stared at Ian for a moment. The beautiful boy looked beyond miserable, but Luke didn't know what to do. He had been alone for a long time; he had been restless and had only gone to the bar for something to do. Usually he would never think of going to such a place, but driving by hadn't seemed an option. And it had lead him to Ian.
"Shh, you are safe now." Ian was soft and warm in Luke's arms, but he shivered beneath the blanket. Luke could smell the boy's scent mixing with his own and was disgusted with himself as he began to harden under his soft sweats. Ian was hurt, he had just been assaulted, and he was sobbing. And yet he was the most beautiful, sexy thing Luke had ever see, and by far the most beautiful thing he had ever held in his arms.
Luke pressed his lips to Ian's hair, partially to keep himself from kissing anything else, partially because he just couldn't resist burying his face in Ian's soft, sweet smelling hair.
"Why are you doing this?" Ian's sobs had faded into soft snuffles and occasional shivers. Luke had pulled him onto the couch and held the younger man curled in his arms.
"Doing what?" Luke looked down at Ian and loosened his arms, did he not want to be touched. "Don't". Ian burrowed deeper in the blanket and closer to Luke's heartbeat, almost as if he was determined to make himself a part of his heart. "Why are you being so nice to me, you already rescued me?" Ian paused as if he were going to continue, but instead pulled the blanket to his nose.
"I don't really know." Luke blinked and realized he spoke the truth. "I couldn't just leave you even after- that man was gone, I couldn't let you go." Luke cut off his words. He didn't talk about feelings, he didn't have feelings, but here he was cradling another man in his arms, one that had been crying a minute ago.
"I just couldn't let you go." Words that Ian had never heard, and had needed to hear for years.
Bennet couldn't keep his eyes off the golden haired man. It was a good thing he wasn't expected to participate in the conversation, because he was not following it. He also was not eating. All he could do was watch every move the man made. Each trip his fork took to his mouth held Bennet in rapture.
"Hello?" Bennet snapped out of imagining the man's lips wrapped around something much closer and more personal than his fork.
"Huh?" Bennet looked around, he wasn't even sure who had spoken.
"Are you alright you seem a bit out of sorts." It was the man that was speaking. He was talking to Bennet.
"Umm." The man had a perfect voice, each syllable made Bennet's spine tingle and nerves sing, it was like it was traveling through him.
"Do you need to go lie down?" Bennet nodded, he did need to lie down, with the golden haired man, sans clothing, preferably soon.
"Do you want me to walk you there?"
"Oh, umm where?" Bennet took a breath, he had to think, what had the man asked, what was he saying. "Oh no, I'm fine, here I mean I don't have to sex-sleep now... I have, need hungry." Bennet finished his speech and grabbed the first available thing on his plate, it was an artfully arranged tossed Caesar salad, Bennet picked up the anchovy.
"Food, to eat." He said and put it in his mouth. The golden haired man watched with a concerned expression.
"I think you do need to lie down." Bennet was silent, still possessing enough mindfulness to avoid speaking with his mouth full, or spitting out the less than appetizing bit of food in him mouth. He watched as the man walked to the head of the table, past Ryder who was watching intently, and whisper in his father's ear. His father frowned, blanched, and then nodded slowly. After another agonizing minute of whispers the golden haired man came around the table and gently pulled Bennet to his feet.
"I wish we had more time, and that you hadn't drunk so much." Bennet nodded, not really understanding the man's words, but knowing he would agree with anything he said.
Bennet stood in the shower stunned. The cold water had shaken him from his trancelike state. He finished washing himself and wrapped a fluffy soft towel around his waist.
"What the hell is going on?" The golden haired man was sitting on Bennet's bed looking through his journal. "Put that down!" Bennet hurried to grab the journal but the man was too fast. Bennet ended up sprawled at the foot of the bed, his towel barely holding on, the man, wisely handed him the journal.
"Well, as I believe beginning at the beginning is always the course of action, that is where I will start. But first I think it would be wise if you dressed yourself." Bennet put on his comfiest jammies, then sat, as patiently as he could, and waited for the man to continue.
"My name is Sawyer, and I have known you father for many years, we went to school together and now are members of the Indigo Hour, it is the society that I meeting today, it is a bit business, a bit club, and mostly a council of behavior. A ruling body if you will."
"What does this have to do with me, or whatever is happening? Get to the point." Bennet crossed his arms and began to pace.
"If you will be still I will tell you." Bennet looked at the man and considered for a moment. He no longer wanted to fall at the man's feet, but he did want his approval. Bennet sat in his desk chair, and was still.
"The Indigo Hour is an old organization, and one that while not hidden, is not flaunted. Only a very special group of people know of our existence."
"Don't lie to me. I'm not completely stupid." Bennet moved to stand, but a look from Sawyer stopped him, it did not, however, stop his pout.
"I will not lie, if you will be still and let me tell you." Sawyer paused to gage Bennet's agreement, then after nearly a minute, continued.
"We are quiet about our group because of the secrets we hold, secrets that are not only ours, but that are many peoples." Bennet wanted to ask what secrets, but stopped himself, something told him another offence would make getting the story much harder.
"Your father was planning on telling you when you were poised to take his place, but time is moving in a pattern that will not allow that. The Indigo Hour protects, and to do that as few people as possible know about us. Just knowing brings danger. As your father's son you were already a bit at a risk; as my consort the danger will more than double." Bennet couldn't stay quiet after a pronouncement like that.