November

November 10

It hadn't been a particularly good day, and it hadn't been a particularly bad day. Just a day, not much unlike any other. He'd eaten, he'd bathed, he'd gone to drills and work and been generally himself. He'd not had any trouble getting a private shower, he'd dressed without incident, and met his friends for dinner and had the waterfowl. After dinner, he'd gone to work out - weights to try to get his strength back, and running, which came easier now; he was lighter on his feet. After a half hour, he came panting to a stop. It was ten-forty two. He went to go into the showers.

When he came out, Yavisk was sitting in the locker room, straddling the bench that was between him and his locker. Havar felt his heart stop. Then it was pounding, and he clenched one hand spastically around the knot holding up his towel and looked expectantly at his CO. He could have sworn he'd locked the door. Had he forgotten? It wasn't safe to forget. Yavisk smiled to see him, twirled a set of keys around one hand and set them down.
"Hello, Havar."
Havar swallowed.
"Sir."
"How was your workout?"
Havar tensed.
"Fine, sir."
"Did you lift?"
"Yes, sir."
"That's good. Good." Yavisk seemed to find some point of interest on the wall in front of him. "How much did you lift?"
Havar flushed.
"I pressed 180, sir." he lied. It had been 150 and it hurt.
Yavisk mulled this over for a moment.
"Used to be 200."
Havar's heart picked up.
"And you wouldn't even struggle. Never used to get sick, either, did you? And yet you've been sick twice this month alone."
"Once, sir."
Yavisk looked at him pityingly. Havar gritted his teeth.
"I've been sick once this month, sir."
"Ah. Once, then."
Havar shifted his position; the muscles in his stomach flexed and Yavisk let his eyes drift to them. Havar tensed and held the towel tighter.
"You look flushed, private."
"My shower was hot, sir."
"You've been flushed a lot lately."
"I was sick."
"Mmm."
Yavisk swung his leg over the bench, faced Havar completely. Havar shifted in annoyance.
"Have I offended you in some way, sir? Because if so, I would appreciate knowing what you think I've -"
"What I think, Private Granger? I think you've been keeping secrets from me."
The world spinning out and upside down couldn't have frightened him more. He took a step back, already running in his mind. Where could he go to get out of here? Into the showers was a dead end - could he make it past Yavisk, to the door, to the hall? What then? Where could he hide with a man like this after him? He would have to seek sanctuary, find a chaplain or a doctor or the office and just admit, make a full confession. What if no one was here? He bit down the fear. He didn't know. Yavisk had no idea, was just trying to frighten him. Maybe he was referencing something else. Hadn't some files gone missing lately? Maybe they thought it was him. He stood still.
"I don't know what you mean, sir."
Yavisk chuckled, knocked the wood of the bench with one hand.
"Oh."
Then he was on him like a snake, faster than Havar's feet could move to take him away, faster than he could contemplate where to run. Yavisk had him in a tight grip, and then suddenly his face was in the lockers and Yavisk was behind him, one hand knotted viciously in his hair and the other pushing the towel up around his waist. Then there were fingers seeking him, prodding, and he heard a voice screaming and distantly, knew it as his own and then Yavisk's fingers were in him and it hurt and it felt weird and disgusting and he felt stuck between two moments in time. Then Yavisk withdrew, and Havar began to cry - great, stupid, heaving sobs that were mostly him just trying to take in a breath. He couldn't see anymore; his eyes were too wet and his world was ending because he knew - Yavisk knew and he would destroy him. The pressure on his head released and his face felt sore when he moved it off the lockers and there were hands guiding him and he found himself on the bench, cradled in Yavisk's arms with the man stroking his hair while he cried that it was over, it was over, it was all of it over.

Then he was being helped to his feet, and Havar went blindly - he couldn't think, couldn't see, couldn't taste or feel or breathe. He felt foggy, lost. He was grateful for the guidance. In the next room, he almost tripped over something and Yavisk guided him gently around it, led him beside it and urged him to sit down. When he came back to himself, he was sitting wet and naked in the middle of a makeshift bed and Yavisk was undoing his zipper.
He got up immediately, bolted for the door, even made it, but it was locked utterly and completely and so Yavisk caught him by the arm and yanked him back, knocked him to the floor. Then he was rubbing something in his hand and he touched it to Havar's back and he had a moment to recognize the device he'd seen go into Yavisk's locker days ago and then there was indescribable pain shooting through his back and all his muscles tensed together and he felt like his skin was on fire. Yavisk released him, let him seize out on the floor for a minute. When he had mostly gotten control of his muscles back and he was gasping for breath on the ground, Yavisk came and stood over him.
"No running."
Havar couldn't respond, was too busy trying to make the burning stop. Yavisk stripped free of his shirt and kicked his boots off. Havar turned his head a little as the first went flying by, but it made shooting pains go up his neck, so he just laid quietly still and tried not to get hurt. Then Yavisk was just in his fatigue bottoms and his tags dangling around his neck and he was bending over Havar with his arms on either side. He lifted Havar bodily from the floor, ignoring how he flinched because his skin still hurt, and laid him in the middle of the pile of mats on his makeshift bed.

When Havar could move his head without screaming again, Yavisk was kneeling nude at the end of the bed, his dick hard and heavy in his hand, emerging proudly from the end of the fist he had wrapped around it. If Havar had had any voice left to protest, he would have. As it was, all he could feel was tired. He was tired of hiding, tired of lying, tired of being on his toes all the time, tired of reworking his schedule, tired of jumping at every little shadow. He felt like he was dying, but at least it was over. Yavisk was between his legs. He leaned over to look him in the eyes. Havar couldn't quite seem to focus. Yavisk furrowed his brow, looked worried. The zap had hit him harder than he'd thought, but at least he'd stopped shaking now. He rubbed the carrier's forehead - Havar made a face, but didn't cringe away from his touch. He felt a bit of relief. Havar whispered something. He leaned closer. The boy had a beautiful face - all planes and soft lighting. Yavisk felt his dick get thicker. He brushed one hand between two tawny thighs. Havar flinched a little, moved one hand out to grip the edge of the mats. Yavisk touched him more firmly then, spreading his legs roughly and wedging his own between to keep them open. The zap was almost completely worn down by then, and Havar felt panic bite at him when Yavisk's weight came down partially on his own. Yavisk must have sensed this.
"No. Running." Havar tried to shift just a little, to close his legs and gain some semblance of control.
"Please, I - "
"No. Keep them open."
Yavisk palmed his own cock, which was red and swollen with arousal.
"Sir, please, I - "
the rest got choked on at that point, because Yavisk roughly shoved his cock into Havar's mostly-dry and still virgin entrance and it hurt all over again. Then Yavisk was above him, making a cage over his head with his body, heaving in and out of his Havar's moist entrance, slapping his balls noisily against Havar's ass. It was over mercifully quick and Yavisk pulled out of him and rolled off the mat. Havar lay still, trying to catch his breath and process the fact that only two hours ago, he'd been at dinner, in the caf, with his friends. He didn't have any friends now. They'd have him at the Institute by morning; he'd be lucky if he got to say goodbye. Yavisk touched him and he jumped, then stared at the hand on his leg. If they asked at the Institute who discovered him...what would he say? Should he lie? If he told the truth, would Yavisk be angry with him? Why should he care? But if he told the truth, it might mean that Yavisk had a piece of him, was irreversibly tied to his life, in this horrible way that he couldn't undo. Tears bit at the back of his eyes. He couldn't think, he needed to think. Yavisk's hands were pushing him, moving him into place.
"What are you doing?"
"Legs up. Here, hold them to your chest. Right. Like this." Yavisk moved him into position and he complied, unsure why other than that he didn't really want another taste of that zap, and also he was very tired of fighting. Yavisk made him lie like that for a few minutes while he got up, got the room together, picked up some of the things Havar had knocked over in his panic, and brought back his clothes from his locker and his towel from where it had been dropped.

He disappeared into the other room while Havar dressed, came back with the zap device and the set of keys from earlier dangling from his hand. Havar looked suspiciously at it, tried to angle his body away.
"Don't worry." Yavisk flicked a few buttons on it, wrapped it around his wrist. "No more zaps. I won't hurt you again. The difficult part is over."

~:~

In the infirmary, the night doctor put his legs apart and made him tell exactly why it had taken him so long to confess. He choked on his words a few times, when all the questions got too much, and Yavisk stepped in to tell the doctor in a severe tone that he'd better take it easy. The doctor sighed as he took his gloves off and let Havar get down and get dressed. He would have to call the Centre immediately, he informed them, and they most certainly would not be happy. It wouldn't reflect well on him, he deliberated, that this sort of thing had gone unnoticed. Yavisk assured him that it would be taken care of. The doctor sniffed and kept one eye on Havar. The Centre, he informed them, had very strict policies about this kind of deception. But if Yavisk was willing to testify that Havar's treachery (because it was treachery, the doctor assured him, and a crime against his country) was only some misguided attempt on his part to stay close to the man he loved (Yavisk), then perhaps the Centre might look more kindly on his case. Yavisk suggested that perhaps if the results of Havar's examination leaned a bit more in Yavisk's favor, then he might be able to arrange for the Centre to look more kindly on the doctor as well. The doctor went off to his office to draft a letter. Havar sat quietly on the edge of the examination table, afraid to leave the room or pace or even move. He stared at his boots, trying simultaneously to process and also not to think. Yavisk was breathing calmly, sitting in a chair behind him. The sound made him angry and sick. The doctor reappeared.

The letter said that Havar, upon falling ill, had arrived in the infirmary. His keen sense of human behavior told the doctor that something was amiss, and after Havar had undergone some questioning, he quickly confessed. The doctor noted that although Yavisk had professed innocence in the entire situation, he suspected that the two were pursuing a romantic relationship, and insisted on examining Havar. Evidence indicated he was correct, and the behavior of both parties suggested to him that the relationship was ongoing. Given that, Havar might already be pregnant, and the best recourse for the Centre would be to simply let nature take its course, but to scold Havar seriously and commit him to intense classes as a punishment for his disrespect. Yavisk, naturally, would be offered full rights of pursuit and allowed to continue the relationship. Adjustments should be made accordingly.

Yavisk nodded his approval, and the doctor told him that although he would have future access to Havar, his carrier would have to be sent away, tonight, to avoid any further complications his presence in the barracks might cause. Yavisk said that he understood, asked the doctor for a few moments alone to say goodbye to his new bride. The doctor left them, glancing only once at Havar, and when he was gone, Yavisk took him again, on the examination table.