Not In This Lifetime Ch. 03-04

"I don't want to."

He gasped in pain and doubled over when the general lunged at him, kneeing him in the stomach.

"Fucking hell," he spat out, clutching his stomach. The general came at him again, fist clenched, and Mile had just enough time to evade the punch.

This went on for a while longer, the general attacking and Mile evading. Growing annoyed with the game of chase, Symond knocked Mile off his feet and onto his back, dropping down to grasp his throat and cutting off his airflow.

"Fight me, bitch," he growled down at the other.

Mile gasped in pain, struggling with the lack of air, and reached up to slam his right palm against the underside of Symond's jaw, forcing his head back with a snap. Symond released his grip on the other and looked down at him.

"Good."

He stood and pulled Mile to his feet.

"Again."

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Chapter Four: culture shock

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Eight years before the fall of the rebellion.

Mile was frustrated. Frustrated with himself, and frustrated with the situation he had found himself in. Things weren't going as he expected them too. He was not settling in well with his fellow rebels. He sensed a lot of tension between himself and the others, despite his best efforts to contribute and support the cause. He had already butted heads with a number of them. He didn't understand where the animosity toward him was coming from.

Today, the three rebel leaders had called for their weekly meeting to discuss their progress and plans. Mile sat among the group of soldiers and watched as the room filled and the three men took a seat at a table at the front of the room. He idly scanned the crowd, noting how many more people were present than there had been over the past few weeks. He was beginning to recognize the ones who had been here longer. He always noticed a red headed man -- perhaps because his hair was so vibrant, but also because the man seemed to be the only one who acknowledged his existence with small nods of greeting.

Eros Thiled began to speak, jumping right to business as Mile had learned was typical of him.

"We have been doing well with recruitment. Our numbers have nearly tripled, and our scouts have reported a great deal of support amongst the people. We are continually moving in the right direction."

Eros paused before motioning toward a young woman sitting near him. "We've been extremely fortunate this past week with the addition of Ryfrid to our team. She's trained in the science of computer technology. We're optimistic that we can begin incorporating more tech into our cause with her help."

There were cheers from the group of rebels. Computer technology, having once been on its way to becoming a booming industry promising great advancements in overall life, had become something of a lost science when Oppius Domarc had become king. He had recognized the power that could be wielded with it, and had thought it best to keep it away from the majority of society. Only a select few were allowed access to computers -- namely nobles and the royal army -- and an even more select few were permitted to be trained in the science. There were hefty punishments for those who practiced, learned, and taught computer science without permission.

Eros continued. "Having that said, the plan remains the same this week. Scouting and recruitment. Please talk to one of us if you are interested in becoming a scout."

Mile spoke suddenly. "We should storm the base in Eastrun. It is currently unmanned, save for a single officer or two. We could easily steal supplies and tech to aid us."

The room went quiet and all eyes were on Mile. Bere Rancis spoke next.

"That's too risky a move for us at this point in time. Our numbers are improved, but we can't yet take on the royal army."

"The presence of the the royal army is grossly lacking within the kingdom," Mile continued. "I know for a fact that the king has the bulk of his army fighting up North to procure more territory, and that he does not take the rebellion seriously."

Eros frowned. "Even so --"

"Shut the fuck up, Domarc."

Mile blinked in surprise, staring at the short, angry man that was Dego Arcus.

"I'm tired of you coming in here, disrespecting us and shoving your opinion where it's not wanted."

Degos stood, emboldened now that everyone was looking at him.

"Do you not realize how insignificant and expendable you are to us? This isn't the goddamn Mile Domarc show with us as the supporting cast."

The man that was once so small in stature seemed to grow bigger as he let loose.

"I know you think you're some big hot shot -- the heroic and righteous wayward son of the king, here to save us all."

"Dego ..." Eros interjected, a hint of warning to his voice.

"You're not fucking god's gift to the rebellion."

Mile was taken aback by the outburst. He didn't know what to say.

"I -- I do not think of myself as such."

Dego rolled his eyes. "You very clearly DO. You know, we almost didn't take you in. Eros only agreed to because we figured you'd make a great bargaining chip for the royal army should the need ever arise."

"Dego, that's enough." Eros stood, glaring at the other man.

Mile frowned. A bargaining chip? That's all they saw him as?

"It's fucking true," Dego continued, as if reading Mile's thoughts. "We would have reconsidered letting you join had we known you were such an insufferable twat, but at least we always have that option."

Eros sternly placed a hand on his friend's shoulder and ushered him to the door.

"Meeting adjourned, for now," he called to the room. "Same time next week."

The two of them exited, followed by Bere Rancis, who was just shaking his head slowly as he walked, and the rest of the rebel soldiers followed suit. Mile frowned and stared at the ground, trying to come to terms with this development.

The red-headed man Mile had noticed before was the last to leave the building. He met Mile's gaze, and shrugged sheepishly.

"Look, man, everyone just needs some time to adjust to you."

Mile frowned, still shaken from the confrontation. "Adjust to me?"

"I mean, yeah, you have to admit it's weird that you're here. It looks weird. I mean, suspicious. One minute you were in the Royal Army and the next thing we know, you show up here looking to join. You could easily be a spy for the king."

"Do you think it likely that the Royal Army would send the son of the king into a volatile situation for such a mission, when there are plenty of more disposable soldiers available?"

"I don't know. I guess not. But it's not me you have to convince."

"You believe me, then?"

The redhead shrugged again. "I want to. Look, I'm going to give you the benefit of doubt and trust you. I know what it's like to be alone, so I'm offering you an olive branch. I think I can help you, but you're going to have to reel it in and actually listen to me if you want to fit in here."

Mile looked bemused. "Reel it in?"

The other man nodded. "Yeah. This whole royalty shtick you've got going on. I know that's all you know, but you can't be that person here. You're not that person anymore. You gave that up when you joined the rebellion."

Mile stared at him.

"Like, I know you want to help, but you can't talk to those guys like that. This whole movement only exists because of them. Stop trying to tell them what they need to do or not do."

Mile looked like he was about to argue, but the redhead held up his hand and continued.

"Even if you're right, how can they -- how can any of us -- trust the things you say at this point in time? We don't know you. You haven't done anything of value for us. You could be leading us into a trap. Think about it. We'd be stupid to trust you."

Mile turned to look at the wall. Of course the man was right. He felt foolish for not thinking this through before -- for assuming he'd be accepted with open arms.

"I am sorry," Mile said quietly. "I had not realized my behavior was offensive."

Now the red headed man was grinning. "Yeah, no kidding, Mile. Like I said, I realize it's all you know." He paused and looked the other over. Mile looked defeated. "It's okay. We can work with this. That is, if you're willing to put in the time and effort."

"We?"

"Well yeah -- I'm going to help you, of course!"

Mile smiled appreciatively at the man's enthusiasm. "Thank you ... sorry, I don't even know your name."

"Cerys." The man held out his hand. Mile looked down. Nobles didn't shake. Inviting another person into one's personal space was considered boorish and reserved for the common folk.

Mile realized his new friend was providing him with an opportunity to show his willingness to conform. He reached out and shook his hand.

"Cerys. Thank you for your insights. I truly appreciate the help. I need it."

Cerys laughed. "Okay, we gotta work on that limp fish handshake. You'll get there." He winked. "Second order of business -- your accent."

"My accent?" Mile asked, feeling entirely self-conscious now.

"Yeah, it makes you stand out like a sore thumb and just serves to single you out as a noble. Makes people uncomfortable. Plus, I'm sure you don't want to be immediately recognizable as the king's son, that seems dangerous. The accent's gotta go."

Mile looked aghast. "Easier said than done, Cerys!"

Cerys grinned. "I know, I know. We'll work on it. Look, the most important thing for you to do right now is keep your head down. Observe the others and learn from them. Keep your focus small for now -- like on learning to conform -- and work your way up. Once the guys see that you are taking these things seriously, they'll start to trust you with more and then you can focus on the bigger picture stuff. Make sense?"

"Yes," Mile nodded. "You are right."

"You're right," Cerys corrected him.

Mile looked at him, confused.

"Use more contractions."

Mile laughed and shook his head. "You're right, Cerys."

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Things seemed to be improving now that Cerys had taken Mile under his wing. He took the red headed man's advice and kept a low profile, using the time to instead focus on improving himself and on observing the other rebels. He quickly noticed that after their meetings, various people would jump into action and tidy up after everyone. Stacking chairs, wiping tables, sweeping. He had never noticed how clean they kept their headquarters, nor had he ever questioned who exactly was doing so. It seemed to be on a volunteer basis, and so he decided that he would help out after every meeting. At least then he could feel like he was contributing in some way, even if it was not the way in which he wanted to be contributing.

After about six weeks of following Cerys' advice, Mile was finishing up cleaning after a meeting. A couple of women had stayed to help today, and the three of them made short work of the task. He stacked the last chair and returned a wave to the two women as they left.

"Domarc."

Mile turned around, surprised to see Dego Arcus standing there. His hands were in his pockets and he looked a bit menacing standing there with a scowl upon his face. He hoped the man didn't want trouble; he couldn't imagine what he might've done to piss off the rebel leader -- he'd been doing his best to stay small and inoffensive.

Mile said nothing, just stared at him.

Finally, Dego spoke again.

"I fucking hate you."

Surprised by the blunt honesty, Mile didn't know what to say. "Why?" Was all he managed.

"You are everything we are fighting against. A privileged, spoiled, piece of shit royal. You have no business being here."

Mile frowned at his words. "I am trying to adjust to your standards. I'm not like them," he said, referring to the rest of his family.

"Cerys has been directing you. We've noticed the changes."

Mile felt a prick of hope from the acknowledgment. "He's helped me immensely."

Dego smirked. "He fucking you?"

"What?" Mile was taken aback by the question and laughed uncomfortably.

Dego's face became serious and he stepped closer to Mile. "Is he fucking you?"

"He certainly is not," Mile swallowed, feeling alarmed by the man's odd behavior.

Dego shrugged. "Hm. Shame. For him."

He stepped closer to the other man and roughly grasped the front of his shirt, pulling him down so their faces were close.

"I'm going to fuck you, Domarc. It'll go better for you if you don't try to fight it."

Mile scowled at the other and shoved him away. "Like hell you are."

Dego smirked and grabbed Mile by the hair at the nape of his neck.

"Just think of it as an initiation fee." He dragged Mile by his hair to the front of the room, Mile stumbling along behind him.

"Fuck you," Mile spat, and tried to push the shorter man off of him. He found that despite his short stature, the man was solid muscle.

"Yes, that's the idea," Dego smirked again and pushed Mile's back up against the wall and began to remove his belt, a firm hand holding him to the wall.

"Turn around."

"Are you really fucking serious?" He wondered if the man was just trying to scare him.

"Dead serious. Turn around." Dego didn't wait for the other to respond, he grabbed Mile's shoulders and turned him. Mile started to move away from him.

"Fuck off, Arcus."

Dego shoved him against the wall and Mile gasped when he felt the cold steel of a blade at his throat.

"Jesus Christ," he sputtered, anxiety flooding through him. Dego pressed up against his back as he held the knife to his throat. Mile could feel the other man's hard cock pressing into his thigh.

"Just don't fucking move and I won't hurt you."

Mile nodded his understanding and Dego placed the knife back into its sheath on his belt. Then he pulled one of Mile's hands behind his back, followed by the other. Mile felt him wrap his belt around his wrists a few times before tightly securing it -- effectively immobilizing his hands behind him.

"Please don't do this."

"Shut up."

Dego pulled him away from the wall by the shoulder and then pushed him to lay flat on the ground on his stomach. He undid Mile's pants and pulled them down, followed by his boxers.

Mile couldn't believe the position he found himself in. Was this really what life was like outside of his secure bubble of privilege?

He heard Dego pull something from his pocket and then squirt it on his hand.

"Have you taken a man before?" Dego asked.

"No."

"Good." Mile swore he could *hear* the bastard's smirk this time.

He gasped in surprise when he felt the other's fingers pressing against his ass. They were cold from being coated with lube, and seeking entrance. He grunted as one finger probed into him, and then a second. Dego began sliding the two fingers into Mile's ass and back out again, stretching him out, preparing him for what was next.

Mile clenched his eyes shut at the new sensation of something foreign inside of him, moving in and out. Dego added a third finger and continued with the fucking motion. Mile grunted in discomfort, still in disbelief that this was really happening.

Dego then removed his fingers suddenly, satisfied with his prep job, and undid his own belt, pulling his pants and underwear down together.

Mile lay motionless, apparently resigned to his fate. He heard the squirt of lube again as Dego squeezed the bottle into his hand and rubbed some onto his cock. Mile tensed when he felt pressure back against his hole, presumably the other man's cock this time.

"It will hurt less if you relax."

He didn't know how he was expected to do so as he was forcibly about to lose his anal virginity to the man. Dego didn't seem to care and pressed forward, the tip of his penis stalling briefly before pushing past the ring of resistance. Mile yelped in pain as the head of Dego's cock slid the rest of the way inside.

"OH, FUCK. Shit. Fuck." He barely noticed he was cursing aloud. He had no idea how large the other man was since he was face down, but he noted that the man's cock felt entirely disproportionate to the rest of his body. Then again, he'd never had another cock inside of him to compare. It honestly felt like the man was shoving an arm into him.

Dego paused, giving him a moment.

"Hard part is over, it only gets better from here."

With that he began pushing his cock the rest of the way inside, bottoming out into Mile. He moaned in pleasure, sucking air through his teeth. "Shit, that's good." He gazed down upon the other man who was laying impassively beneath him, staring at the wall and looking defeated. He no longer appeared to be in pain at least.

Dego began to move, thrusting his cock in and out of the other man, deriving pleasure from his body. Mile closed his eyes and grunted at the sensation of being fucked. Dego hadn't lied -- the initial pain of penetration had faded and was replaced by a feeling of fullness. He couldn't say he was enjoying it, though.

That is, he wasn't enjoying it until Dego paused his thrusting to hoist Mile's hips off the ground and grab his flaccid cock, squeezing and stroking and bringing it to life.

Mile gasped and pressed his face into the ground, jaw clenched tight.

"Fuck."

He found his body responding almost immediately to the touch from the other and unconsciously began rocking his hips into Dego's hand, his ass pressing back against the other's embedded cock as an unintended result. Dego stopped stroking and starting thrusting his hips again, still tightly grasping Mile in his fist, the thrusting motion pushing Mile's cock back and forth in the vice-like grip of Dego's hand. Mile moaned, the dual sensation felt amazing. They continued this way for some time, both men panting out their pleasure as they fucked.

Mile was the first to cum, a particularly deep thrust from the man on top of him pushed him over the edge and he moaned and erupted into the other's hand as his orgasm overcame him. Dego took this as his cue, and released Mile's cock to refocus his energies on reaching his own orgasm. He hugged Mile tightly around the waist and turned up the intensity of his thrusts, going fast and deep into the other. After a moment he began to shudder and then moaned, releasing waves of semen into Mile.

They both collapsed in a heap. After a few minutes, Dego stirred, pulling out of the man beneath him. He wiped the semen off of his hand onto Mile's boxers, then he removed the belt from Mile's wrists and relocated next to him, reclining onto his side, head propped on his hand. He gazed upon Mile as he slowly rolled onto his side and then his back, rubbing his wrists where the belt had been.

"Why are you here, Mile?"

Mile turned his head to look at Dego.

"Did someone send you to infiltrate us?"

"No, of course not."

"Then, why?"

Mile thought about the question for a moment before answering.

"Because I don't agree with the systems of oppression that are in place to benefit only those at the top of the societal ladder. Because I hate the fact that we enslave other humans in this day and age. Because I have seen first hand how selfish the king is, and there is nothing he has done in his years as ruler that I can agree with."

He paused, his brow furrowed as he thought about his father.

"He oversees so much territory but still he is not satisfied. He will not be until there is nothing left to claim. So many lives are lost and destroyed as a result of his greed."

He looked at Dego, who hadn't moved from his relaxed position on the floor, but the man's eyebrows were raised in surprise at the answer he was provided.

"Huh. Okay, then."

Dego stood up and put his pants back on. Mile pushed himself off the ground and pulled his boxers and pants up as he stood, zipping up and replacing the belt.

Dego walked to the door and gave Mile a small salute-like wave.