A Good Servant Ch. 10

"Welcome to Haven," Ayn spoke. "My little corner of paradise," he added smugly, as he let the window down and took his head out to speak to the people passing by and laugh with them. "Now, keep that smart mouth of yours shut, ok?"

Xavier stood in the car after Ayn told him to stop. He watched as Ayn spoke to a few young men, all dressed almost in the same fashion as his former slave. They were all stealing glances in Xavier's direction, and he could bet they were asking what was up with him.

Ayn came to the car and opened the door.

"Come, out," he gestured and Xavier executed.

He had no idea he could feel so much peace inside to let himself in someone else's hands. Of course, that didn't mean he didn't keep his head high as he got out of the car. Ayn grabbed him by the shoulders and dragged him along.

"So, that's him?" one of the guys asked.

"He's fucking gorgeous," a younger man commented and they all laughed.

"Hands off, he's mine," Ayn said and Xavier felt the sensation in his chest growing warmer.

"He'd be good to sell back to those Drena fuckers," an older one spoke this time, seemingly annoyed with the attention the stranger was getting.

"No," Ayn said sternly. "I said he's mine," he added, as he looked at the others with something fierce in his eyes.

Xavier stared at his ex slave. It all seemed strange, like in a dream.

"Come on, Ayn, it's not like you swing that way," the young one teased. "Give him to me. Just one time."

"No way, fucker," Ayn flipped him.

"You're letting that nice ass go to waste?" another asked and shamelessly slapped Xavier's ass.

Ayn pushed him with his free hand. "What the hell dude? I told you hands off!"

"Wow, chill, man, you surely got freaky," the man raised his hands in surrender.

"My house, still everything there?" Ayn questioned. "No one touched my stuff?"

"No one would be fool enough. Although you were gone like half a year or something," one reproached.

Ayn shrugged. "Good to know you're not forgetting who I am. Scrap the car."

"But it's a nice car," the young one complained.

"Too nice. You don't want anyone on your ass for that. Scrap it. Also, here is a small souvenir," he threw the gun he had used to threaten Xavier. "Sell it at the market in Aeria. You'll get enough to buy yourself a stiff drink. Or charm a girl," he joked.

"Wow, this is for me, Ayn?" the youngster's eyes were shining.

"Yeah, kiddo," Ayn ruffled his hair in passing, while he dragged Xavier after him.

"Why did you give him the gun?" Xavier asked.

"It's useless. No bullets. Ammo for that kind of shit is hard to come by. But it's flashy and it can get the girls all wet and ready."

"No bullets?" Xavier asked, dumbfounded.

"Yeah. I was lucky enough to steal that, though. It surely made you piss your pants," Ayn commented gleefully, as he pushed Xavier through the door to a house that didn't look any worse or better than the others. "Here it is, my home," he spoke and Xavier looked around.

It was basically just a room with a bed and a small kitchenette next to it. Another door was probably leading to the bathroom. That was all. It looked desolating.

"Am I supposed to say anything?" Xavier asked. "About ... this?" he waved his right hand, derisively.

His irony was not lost on Ayn.

"Feeling almighty all of a sudden?" Ayn pushed him and pushed him to take a sit on the bed. "I could always let the guys have a bit of fun with you, you know?" he said, a dark expression on his face.

"You told them I'm yours," grey eyes rose to meet dark pools.

"That you are," Ayn agreed.

"And what is that supposed to mean?" Xavier asked, while crossing his legs and looking at Ayn with no sign of feeling intimidated.

"It means that," Ayn closed the distance and pushed Xavier onto the bed, "I will be top dog now."

Xavier didn't back down and pushed back on his elbows to get up. "In your dreams."

"Really?" Ayn challenged. "Wanna bet?"

"Bet on what? You have nothing," Xavier threw a look around, to make his insinuation clearer.

"You're so full of it," Ayn huffed. "I can do what I want with you."

"What? Kill me? You had the chance, you didn't," Xavier pointed out the obvious.

"I still can. Whenever I want," Ayn took a step back and let his eyes linger on Xavier's body with intent.

"Then why don't you?" Xavier looked him dead in the eyes.

"Because I don't think fucking a corpse would be any fun," Ayn grinned wildly, making that thing growing inside Xavier make summersaults.

~A Good Servant~

Dion was sure more and more he liked John's small home. The bathroom was sparkling clean, clinical even, given the outside conditions, and, although small, it had everything. He decided for a quick shower. There was a long day ahead, so he let the hot stream hit his body and started to wash.

He did not hear the door opening. Only when someone climbed into the small bathtub next to him, he realized he was not alone.

He was not so ceremoniously pushed a bit aside, as John started to wash next to him.

"Hot water is a luxury around here, princess," he commented, and Dion felt a bit guilty.

He grabbed a few hands full of water to rinse whatever parts were still covered in soap and got out quickly, avoiding to brush against John, but failing a few times. He took a towel to dry and wrap around his waist, then he began brushing his teeth, while stealing glances at the man in the shower. John's body was hard, muscles everywhere, but the kind obtained through hard work, not running a treadmill. He could not help look at the man's organ as he turned.

Dion gulped unconsciously. The man was big in every department, including that. One could not tell without seeing that cock in its aroused state, but even half asleep, it looked pretty impressive. Antoine was truly gifted, and it had always hurt when he had fucked Dion, but this guy looked even bigger. He continued to stare, the toothbrush still in his mouth. Was that thing growing?

"Hey, quit staring," he heard John speaking and he shook his head quickly. "If you wanted cock, you should have taken the guys on their offer."

He pretended not to hear. He finished his grooming and got out. After getting dressed, he waited for John. It was to be expected for them to go to work together. He doubted they had more time than for eating a sandwich and grab a cup of coffee, which he had already prepared.

When John came back, they ate in silence. He waited for the man to get up from his chair and head to the door, then followed.

As soon as they were out the door, John grabbed him by the shoulders, taking him by surprise. Startled, he looked up. John didn't even grace him with as much as a glance.

"To the outside world, we're supposed to be all lovey-dovey," the morose guy offered an explanation.

Dion looked ahead. It felt good to have that large, heavy and warm hand on his shoulder. It almost made him feel wanted.

As they met others, John waved at them, and Dion politely exchanged a few words. Most guys were congratulating John for landing such a beauty to be his partner. Dion could tell his cheeks were red from embarrassment. Even if some of the comments were a bit racy, they were genuine, and he did not feel humiliated.

When they were supposed to part ways, to go about their work, John dragged him into a warm embrace and kissed him on the lips.

"Take care, darling," he drawled out the words, making Dion feel a bit strange in the pit of the stomach.

There had been just a small brush of their lips, but it made Dion want to suddenly grab the man by the neck and show him a real kiss. A real kiss? What did Dion know about that? Antoine had taught him everything. Including that. He suddenly felt ill.

John frowned. "Well, I'm afraid you will have to put up with these little things when in public, princess," he whispered in Dion's ear, so no one could hear them. "Otherwise, you know I would not touch you with a stick."

He walked away, and Dion felt deserted. He didn't want John to think like this about him. John's kiss had felt nice, it had felt as Dion was sure a kiss was supposed to feel, but he had just stood there, with a stricken expression on his face that had made the man walk away.

He had to put some things in order. For some reason, he wanted John to really appreciate him, to ... what? Want him?

It was not until afternoon, when they had to have lunch, when he saw John again. He took his tray and sat next to the man and started talking. He talked about what had happened at work so far, about some gossip he heard, anything, just to prevent the silence that was bothering him so much to creep between them.

"What are you? A chatterbox?" John stopped him, obviously annoyed.

"I thought ... maybe you wanted a little conversation?" Dion spoke.

"I only want to eat," the man gestured towards his plate.

"Alright," Dion agreed and focused on eating, too.

"Hey, John," he heard someone talking and saw a worker approaching.

John just nodded.

"Heard you got yourself another cutie," the man commented, and Dion suddenly became all ears.

Another?

"Yeah, what do you know," John offered an ambiguous answer.

"Andreas is a big hit down at Venusville," the man commented. "He's like the biggest earner and stuff."

"No doubt," John spoke.

Dion was looking at the man who had taken a seat across from them.

"How could you let that sweet piece of ass go, John?"

"None of your business," came another quick reply.

"Well, at least, you got another. Just keep him on a tighter leash," the man joked and walked away, obviously dissatisfied with John's lack of interest in any kind of conversation.

"Who's Andreas?" Dion commented.

"My ex," John answered, and offered nothing else more.

"Ex? Aren't partnerships supposed to be ... forever?"

"Guys change their mind. It's not unusual. Did you hear me saying any vows? Did you? Don't get your hopes high with me. I know I don't. Eventually you'll leave, at some point."

"Why would I?" Dion demanded, a bit exasperated and, admittedly, a bit afraid, too. "Will you kick me out?"

For a brief second, John turned to look into Dion's beautiful hazel eyes. "No. But know that the door is open. And the sooner you go, the better. For both of us."

"I won't go," Dion said, determined.

"We'll see. In the meantime, stop getting on my nerves. Be grateful I took you in."

"I am grateful," Dion protested.

"Just throwing me a 'thank you' like you would throw a bone to a dog is not enough, princess," John continued, his voice becoming frostier and frostier. "You stay in my house, eat my food, steal my hot water, and no one bothers you. So I'm afraid a little 'thank you' is too small a pay. Even for a guy like me, coming from a guy like you."

Dion gulped, feeling nervous. All in all, John was right. Sort of. "What do you mean? How are you and me different?"

John stopped again and frowned, while their eyes clashed again. "I've lived here all my life. I'll die here, too. You came here down from cloud number nine and expect the fairytale to continue. If you want it to keep up, though, you'll have to offer something in return. It's a small price, and you have plenty."

Dion grabbed his temples, feeling them pulsing. "Plenty of what? What are you saying?"

John suddenly reached for him, grabbing a handful of red strands. What he said afterwards made Dion gasp. "You're fucking beautiful. Out of my league. Like you are out of anyone's league around here. But a bunch of guys to worship your every step ... offering you everything you want, that may work. And you only need to be willing to take some cocks in your mouth and ass. Seeing where you're coming from, I suppose you are used to it, so what's the problem?"

The former servant felt the world spinning around them. John had just managed to compliment him and insult him in just a few phrases. He blushed, mostly because he felt angered.

"I'm not like that."

John let go of his hair. "Yes, you are. You just don't know it yet."

"What happened with Andreas that made so mean?" Dion blurted out.

"None of your business," John turned to see about his food.

"Well, it is. Because I am your partner and I need to know," the redhead said stubbornly.

John laughed. "Really? My partner? We sleep in different beds. We only touch in public. That's not much of a partnership."

"Then come sleep with me at night," Dion found himself talking.

"Darling," John suddenly got dangerously close and grabbed Dion's waist. Their lips got so close, Dion hoped for a kiss. "I am not talking about sleeping," he added, and then, just like that, he was back at what he was doing before, leaving Dion stand there, mouth slightly parted, feeling like a fool.

The alarm blared.

"Now you'll have to go hungry," John gestured towards Dion's almost untouched plate. "That will teach you to run your mouth while you're supposed to eat."

Dion said nothing back. He was in no mood for eating, anyway.

~A Good Servant~

In several days, he started to become more confident to walk outside, without John. There was little to no conversation between them, and Dion wanted, needed that to stop. He had thought about what John had said about him not being grateful. So he was trying his best to tidy up the house and cook, but it didn't look like John was impressed.

With his first paycheck in his pocket, he went shopping.

The small stores located in the main area didn't look like much, but they had all the necessities. He counted the money in his pocket mentally. He purchased general stuff he knew they were missing or starting to deplete, and then he walked around, in search of something special. He had to say a proper 'thank you'. John was right.

"What are looking for, sugar?" the shopkeeper asked him.

"Alcohol," Dion said, after a short moment of hesitation. "But something ... a bit better."

The shopkeeper nodded, all knowingly. He stole a quick glance towards the door, and then he took something from under his desk.

Dion took the small bottle. He recognized the brand.

"Drena stuff. Top shelf. 500 credits, it's all yours, hun," the man rubbed his hands.

500? Dion shook his head. That was half of what he got. And he hadn't dare asking, but most probably he was not going to get any more money until next month. Whatever, he had to. He placed the money on the table, and the man grinned. It was strange to think about money, when back in Drena, he could spend it on anything he wanted - or actually, his master wanted - without worrying about it.

Together with the rest of the groceries, he ended up without much in his pocket. He was going to have to think this better next time.

He entered the house and started to cook. He even made dessert and he began feeling happy. The kitchen had always been a happy place for him. Antoine hadn't care about coming there to torment him, a brief thought touched him.

He heard John coming in, and he blushed a little. Was he going to enjoy Dion's small gift?

John nodded at him in passing, while going to the bathroom to wash. Dion just nodded back. It was their way of greeting. Without words, since John was seemingly allergic to hearing Dion talking.

John came back in home clothes and sat at the table.

"What's the occasion?" he asked, eyeing the exquisite food on the plate.

"My first pay," Dion offered an explanation as he took a seat, as well.

"Congratulations," John said and started eating.

Dion was looking at him from time to time to gauge the man's reactions. Eventually, John raised his eyes to look at him.

"What?" he snapped.

"How do you like the food?" Dion asked, counting to three in his mind to avoid getting snappy, too.

"It's good," John said shortly, and Dion's face fell. "Alright, it's great. You're a great cook," John added. "Better now?"

"Yes, thank you," Dion got back to his food, trying to hide a small smile.

The look in John's eyes when he brought the dessert, though, was better than words. The man practically devoured the éclair and smacked his lips in satisfaction. When they looked at one another again, Dion could not help feeling a bit smug.

"Alright, princess, as far as cooking skills are concerned, you're a keeper," John winked at him, and rose.

Dion took care of the dishes, while John went to his room. Although the man had insisted against Dion always taking care of the chores, the former servant had been so fierce about it, that John had finally given up.

He took the bottle from the place he kept it hidden and then took a deep breath. He knocked softly, waiting for John's morose 'come in' to enter the room.

As always, John didn't spare him a glance. Dion placed himself between John and the TV and quietly handed him the bottle.

John looked up, annoyed. His eyes grew wide when he saw the gift. He took it slowly and stared at it. "Brandy, huh?"

"I thought you'd like it," Dion spoke.

"I do. Thanks," the man looked a bit embarrassed. "You spent a fortune on this, didn't you?"

"Don't bother," Dion shook his head.

There was a moment of silence, and John looked up to him, while putting the bottle aside. The light in the room was growing dim.

Dion suddenly knelt next to the couch, to be on eye level with John. The man didn't move, as Dion hesitantly placed a hand on John's chest that was now rising and falling more rapidly.

Dion felt lost, too. He was no good at this. He wasn't even sure he wanted it. He had seen the man naked. It was going to hurt. But at least he was not going to be humiliated. That he knew.

Antoine had always taken everything from him. So, now, being the one to initiate, he felt awkward. He half closed his eyes and placed his lips on John's. Feeling no resistance, he grew a bit bolder and started to kiss the man. He tasted the man's lips, a bit sweet and salty; he swiped his tongue over them, making them part to gain access inside and tentatively he pushed.

Suddenly, there were strong hands grabbing him, and he was manipulated like a doll, as John managed in record time to turn the tables and have Dion placed on the couch, with the other on top of him.

Dion could feel the man's erection, pushing at the inside of his thigh.

It will hurt; don't think about it. He thought in his head. But no matter what he tried to say in his mind didn't work. He froze and unconsciously pushed against the hard body on top of him.

John interrupted the kiss and they looked into each other's eyes. Dion's eyes were moist. John pushed himself up.

"What a fucking cocktease," he spat as he went to a nearby drawer to pull some clothes out.

"Where are you going?" Dion rose.

"Out," John said curtly and, dressed in record time, he walked out the door, not forgetting, of course, to slam it behind him.

Dion circled his knees with his long arms, and buried his head in them. He could feel John's smell everywhere in that room. It was comforting, but Dion felt pain burrowing deep inside his chest telling him it was not going to last. Not if he wasn't willing to let go of his demons.

*****

Author's Note:

Hi, guys, sorry it took so long to come up with the next chappie. RL gets in the way sometimes. I am so glad many of you like the story that you care to leave such great comments. I hope I will continue to surprise you and that you will consider the story to be hot, plot wise and everything. Making the Hall of Fame? He, he, I'd be a liar to say I would not like that.

Cannd, wow, that was the greatest comment I've ever got in my life! Whenever I feel down, I go back and read everything you and the rest of the guys are saying and I can face the world again. I will try to insert more in the story about the world, so you can all imagine it better. I hope you will like the new chapter. Ayn and Xavier ... well, that will go down hot and dirty ;) I hope. Good point about what's happening between Cory and Lucas. Your input helps me a great deal. And, as for Dion ... his story will unfold, as well.