57-38

Title: 57-38
Chapter: Five
Word Count: 7154


Aaaaand here’s the next bit. I… seriously don’t know how it ended up being so long. It just sort of, um, you know, happened.

Also, if you’re getting all impatient-like, no worries - smut’s coming up in the next chapter. Nurf-durf.

And a big thanks to everyone who left feedback! You guys are all dolls. It’s much enjoyed and appreciated. :D

Alrighty then, enjoy!

Chapter Five: Darryl

Despite the day’s odd start, by the time dinner rolled around, it seemed to Darryl that things had smoothed out a little.

The new boy - Kenneth, he’d said his name was - had mostly kept himself cooped up in the master bedroom for the first half of the day. Darryl and Zavian had brought him some food, a light late-afternoon affair of fruit and a sandwich with some tea, and that had seemed to do a great deal for easing the poor lad’s nerves and restoring his energy. It’d been nearly fourteen years since Darryl had last gone through the confusion and shock of having to adjust to a new owner’s home, but he still remembered with perfect clarity every frightening detail of the experience. It was just a lucky thing for him, (and for Zavian, and now Kenneth, too, for that matter,) that the owner had happened to be Alex.

They’d managed to convince the boy to join them in the kitchen while Darryl set to preparing the evening meal, so that everything would be in order by the time Alex arrived home from his work. Kenneth was a quiet fellow, still shy and new, unsure of the people that now surrounded him, and of how to act around them. Darryl could tell. He’d always gotten the impression that pleasure slaves were skittish folks, but, then again, he supposed that they probably often had good reason to be.

Together, Darryl and Zavian had managed to eke some conversation out of Kenneth, but for the most part the boy just took his tentative seat at the far end of the kitchen island and simply listened in on whatever the two of them chatted about. Zavian was his usual quirky self, sometimes trying to prod Kenneth into speaking with a little joke or silly statement, but for the most part Kenneth just smiled politely at the humorous words and offered up quiet laughs with varying levels of sincerity.

The boy was trying to be well-adjusted, at least, which Darryl supposed was a good sign.

Mostly, though, Darryl was just eager for Alex to return home and meet the little lad for himself. Even though the boy had been bought as a gift to the two of them, Alex had done such a good job of finding him, and the boy’s temperament was exemplary, and his face stunning, and Darryl was positive that Alex was aching to see a smile on it. That was just the sort of person Alex was. Steady figures were few in his owner’s life, and Darryl knew that Alex liked to make happy those precious few that he did have.

As he was chopping the vegetables, Darryl made a silent bet to himself that Alex would return home with a gift for the new lad. He’d wage his evening martini on it - no gift, no drink.

The dinner preparations had gone just as smoothly as they always did, and soon enough the finished meal was sitting on the stovetop, keeping warm in wait for Alex’s arrival. Darryl eyed Kenneth from across the granite counter of the island. The boy definitely had his nose turned to the meal, whiffing in the temping scents, and he certainly had his eyes on the gently bubbling pots. The kid was probably still starving.

Darryl was just beginning to consider breaking their nightly tradition of waiting for Alex and simply serving the meal, for the sake Kenneth’s poor belly, when he suddenly heard soft footsteps approaching, walking down the hall. The others probably hadn’t heard it, Zavian chatting away, but Darryl had been listening for it, and he couldn’t help the smile that suddenly spread across his face at the sound.

They all looked up as Alex stepped into the kitchen, but Kenneth was the only one who got to his feet. He scuttled clumsily off his stool and stood, arms at his side, chin tiled down a little, respectfully acknowledging his owner’s arrival.

Neither Darryl or Zavian bothered with the formality. Together they offered a causal, “Welcome home, sir,” and stayed seated where they were, smiling like goons.

Alex was smiling, too. “Hello,” he said to the room in general, stepping further into the room and settling onto a stool of his own. Darryl noticed him pull something out from one of the inner pockets of his jacket, and watched as he placed a book-sized white box on the countertop and folded his hands over it, offhandedly, like it wasn’t something worth paying any attention to. The smile on Darryl’s face grew just a little wider. “How is everyone?”

“Pretty good,” Zavian replied, resting his head in his hand, lazily. “New kid here was all anxious about meeting you,” added, with a smile.

Darryl watched as Kenneth momentarily shot Zavian a startled, betrayed look - probably worried he’d just been tattled on, that he was going to get punished or something - and then threw his eyes respectfully back to the floor, going red. Darryl nearly sighed. He was going to have to bop Zavian one, later, for scaring the kid.

Alex only chuckled at Zavian’s claim. “I can imagine,” he said, warmly, and Darryl’s eyes immediately went back to his owner, “just bought, wakes up in a strange place where he doesn’t know anyone - I can bet that’s pretty worrying.” Alex leaned forward a little then, and addressed his new slave directly. “How are you feeling? I understand the residual effects of those drugs they pump you full of can be quite unpleasant. Are you doing well?”

Kenneth, unsurely, lifted his eyes until he was looking his new owner in the face, his fingers curling into the canvas of his tunic as he did so. “I’m-” he began shakily, then stopped, swallowed, and tried again in a much more controlled voice. “Yes, sir,” he said, “I’m feeling very well. Thank you, sir.”

Alex let escape and amused breath. “That’s wonderful,” he said, softly. “Wont you come here?”

Dutifully, Kenneth rounded the island, his bare feet making little padding noises on the cold tiles of the floor, and stopped when he was only a few feet from where Alex was sitting. His arms were still at his sides, his head tilted downward. Alex regarded him.

“Look at me,” he said, and Kenneth promptly raised his eyes. He just let Kenneth stare at him for a few long moments, let the intimidation slowly ease out of his features, let him get used to looking Alex in the eye without being reprimanded for it.

At last, Alex spoke again. “As you might have noticed, I run a very informal household. I don’t really see a need for any fussy formalities. So you needn’t worry so much about any of that etiquette hogwash I’m sure they taught you at the complex. All I ask of you is that you be kind and respectful of everyone here, and that they do the same for you.” Alex’s eyes flicked both to Darryl and Zavian, briefly. “I’m sure they will. Darryl and Zavian are both very considerate. I trust they were good hosts to you today?”

Darryl took Zavian’s queue and rested his own head in his hands. “The very best we could be,” he answered, with a little humor in his voice. Alex hardly even needed to ask in the first place.

“Thank you, Darryl,” Alex replied flatly, with just as much humor, “but I was, in fact, asking the young fellow. You imp.”

Kenneth licked his lips nervously before answering. “They were very kind to me, sir,” he answered dutifully. His eyes were still locked directly onto Alex, as he’d been ordered.

“Wonderful,” Alex said, smiling warmly. “So, then. Now that I know you haven’t been mistreated by these vagrants-” to that Zavian snorted “-I have to wonder: has a lovely thing like you got a name? Something you’d like to be called? I’m not in the habit of choosing names for my slaves, not when they usually have ones that already belong to them.”

Kenneth’s fingers fussed nervously with the hem of his canvas tunic and his eyes twitched back and fourth worriedly in their sockets, (Darryl could tell he was struggling not to look away,) but, in the end, he loyally kept his eyes trained on Alex’s handsome face, and answered. “Kenneth, sir,” he spoke, meekly, like he was unsure as to weather or not the words would get him into trouble. “I’m called Kenneth.”

“Kenneth,” Alex spoke in a low, comforting voice, like he was purring the word out. “What a sweet name.”

Suddenly he reached out and gently carded his fingers through Kenneth’s honey-colored hair, and Kenneth immediately tilted his head into the touch like he was hungry for it. Darryl was sure it was something the boy had been taught at the slave complex, one of the silly little rules of etiquette they ground into the memories of their pleasure slaves. He could just hear the words coming out of some gruff trainer’s mouth: Always seem eager for your owner’s touch.

Eager was certainly what Kenneth seemed in that moment. Darryl just wasn’t sure how authentic it was.

Alex finished stroking the boy’s hair and then moved to stroke his cheek, brushing his fingertips down along the curved plane from Kenneth’s temple to chin, and finally allowed his hand to drop again, into his lap. “You’re so delicious,” he said, quietly, and a little color appeared high on Kenneth’s cheeks. Then Alex redirected his attention back to the room in general, looking from Zavian to Darryl. “And speaking of delicious,” he toned, good-naturedly, “what has Darryl prepared for us, tonight?”

“A light poultry stew,” Darryl answered, rising from his seat and traveling to one of the cabinets that housed the china as he spoke, “salad with a sherry dressing, and spiced leeks and potatoes. Also, since I think this is a night that deserves a little festivity,” he smiled as he placed a dish in front of Alex, “I made sauto for desert.”

“Well!” Alex answered. “Festive indeed.” He turned his head back to Kenneth, who was still standing beside him. “You hear that? You just inspire the best from people, I suppose. I can’t even remember the last time Darryl made sauto.”

As Darryl set a dish at his own place and moved to put another in front of Zavian, Alex granted Kenneth permission to go back to his own place at the island to sit for the meal. “Then I think your memory may be starting to go, old man,” Darryl spoke, sarcastically, “I made it for last year’s Halcyon supper. Goodness, next thing you know, he’s going to forget my name, yeah?” He said this last part to Kenneth as he set a dish in front of him. The boy’s expression was absolutely hilarious - he looked entirely appalled at the words coming out of Darryl’s mouth. He probably couldn’t believe a slave was speaking about his owner that way, and in the presence of the owner, at that.

“Old man!” Alex repeated, feigning offense. “Do you hear this, Zavian? Isn’t it your job to defend me? You wouldn’t possibly allow him to speak that way.”

Zavian just shrugged, his trademark toothy grin smeared across his face. “Sorry, sir,” he answered, the grin just as much in his words as it was on his face. “I’m afraid I can’t aim a punch as his words.”

“Blast,” Alex replied. “I suppose you’ve got a point, there.” He smiled goofily and rose to remove his jacket, hanging it on one of the hooks by the kitchen door.

Next Darryl laid some hot-sheets on the granite of the counter top, then, slipping on some oven mitts, went to the stove and began to transfer the bubbling pots to the island they were all seated around.

Kenneth, despite sitting quietly with a general air of apprehension around him, instantly perked up a bit as the pots were set down. He leaned forward a fraction of an inch, taking long whiffs of the delicious scents that rose from their piping interiors.

As Alex returned to the table and sat down, Darryl began to serve the food out, first spooning the stew into bowls and placing them before everyone, then portioning out the salad and leeks and potatoes onto everyone’s plates. Despite Kenneth’s obvious eagerness, he sat patiently and waited until everyone was served and Darryl had taken his place at the table, beside Alex.

“Well, I think it seems appropriate to dedicate this meal to our newest edition, don’t you all think?” said Alex.

“Here, here!” Zavian said, raising his drink and turning a huge and toothy grin onto Kenneth, seated beside him. The boy looked sheepish and awkward.

Darryl followed suit, and lifted his own glass. “To a new life,” he said to the boy, whose cheeks once again filled with color. “And new friends.”

Alex also lifted his glass. “I can certainly drink to that.”

After a stiff moment, Kenneth realized that he, too, was supposed to raise his glass, and so he did, quickly, nearly spilling a few drops of his wine but saving them at the last moment. Zavian chuckled, and his cheeks went from pink to red. “Th-thank you,” he said, and added hastily after a second or so, “sirs.”

They all drank, smiles on most of their faces and a confused frown on one, and then started into their meal, Alex complimenting Darryl on the exceptional job just like he always did.

It wasn’t until Darryl was clearing away the dishes from dinner and spooning the warm, bubbling sauto into dessert saucers that Alex directly addressed Kenneth again.

“Are you normally such a quiet fellow, Kenneth?” he said in a voice that was entirely pleasant and casual, not abrasive in the least. Despite that, though, Kenneth still shied away from the question a little, eyes turned respectfully down to the granite counter top.

“Sir?” he answered, sounding a little confused.

“It’s just that you’re so quiet. You’ve hardly said a word. Are you sure you’re feeling alright? No more after-effects from the drugs I should be worried about?”

“Oh, no, sir. I’m feeling very well, and I thank you for your concern.”

“Well, that’s good, then. But still. You’re so quiet - I suppose I may just be accustomed to these two loud mouths, over here.” He gestured in the general direction of his two other slaves.

“Yeah, we’ve corrupted you, sir,” Zavian piped in, with mirth.

“I think they train them to be that way at the complex,” Darryl added, setting Alex’s dessert in front of him and laying a silver spoon beside it. “Not to speak unless directly addressed. At least, I seem to remember that being one of the things they taught me. Been a while since I observed that rule, though.” He set down Zavian’s dish and spoon, and concluded with “sir,” as an afterthought.

“Huh,” Alex said, thoughtfully. “I suppose I really am out of touch. So many of the rules just seem so unnecessary. I mean, I live with you people, for the gods’ sakes, you’d think the desire to speak would be only natural.”

“But according to the complex slaves aren’t people, their possessions,” Zavian quipped. “And stuff doesn’t talk.”

“Don’t remind me,” Alex replied, rolling his eyes. Then he looked back to Kenneth, whose eyes were still on the countertop. “At any rate,” he said kindly, “you needn’t be so quiet, if you don’t want to be.”

“Sir would… like me to speak?” Kenneth asked, a little confused.

“Like I said, only if you want.”

As Darryl set Kenneth’s dessert in front of him, he caught a glimpse of the worried and perplexed expression that hung on the lad’s face. “Sir…?” the boy asked, quietly. Darryl could tell that he was a little ashamed of his own confusion.

“Sir,” he said quickly, interjecting himself before Alex could reply, “perhaps it would be best for him to just stay quiet for now. He seems happy enough that way, as it is.”

Alex looked a touch inquisitive at those words, but then he seemed to catch the meaningful glance Darryl was sending his way, (Darryl had always thought himself rather skillful at the art of silent communication, and it seemed that Alex was getting his message of just leave it be loud and clear,) and fell silent. Instead the owner took a sip from his dwindling glass of wine and set it back on the table with care.

“Of course,” he said sagely, after a few moments, “this is all still very new to you. I suppose I shouldn’t push you very far out of your comfort zone, should I? I apologize.”

This only seemed to confuse Kenneth more. The thought that an owner ever might apologize to him had probably never crossed the lad’s mind. Darryl finally took his seat back at the island, having supplied everyone with their sauto, and eased out a sympathetic breath for the boy. His world was probably turned completely on its side, right about now.

“All right,” Darryl said, tidily changing the subject. “In honor of our newest member-”

“-Welcome to the club!” Zavian shouted boisterously.

“-yes, thank you, Zavian. As I was saying, in honor of our newest… addition, I thought I’d make a special treat. Usually I only make sauto once a year, but this seemed a good reason to break my little tradition. Have you ever had sauto before, Kenneth?” Darryl was smiling at the boy, and Alex was smiling as well, clearly enjoying the friendly little show, and Zavian wasn’t so much smiling as he was grinning like a huge idiot.

Kenneth only shook his head. “No, sir,” he said, and then as he remembered what he’d been told earlier, he amended it to: “Or, uh, Darryl, I mean. No, Darryl.”

“It’s the traditional dessert made for Halcyon,” Darryl continued. “And since Halcyon’s all about the celebration of peacefulness and the hope for future contentment, I thought it might be appropriate. It’s a pretty simple thing, just cooked fruit with custard and rice. I thought you might enjoy it.” He lifted his spoon. “Shall we dig in?” he asked, the question directed at Alex.

“By all means,” Alex said, still smiling. “Lets.”

Alex waited until after meal was properly over - plenty of compliments offered to Darryl over his sauto and the dishes all cleared away and placed into the sink - to finally address the small white box he’d placed on the counter top when he’d first arrived.

They were all sitting about and chatting idly, (although Kenneth continued to remain mostly quiet, unless directly addressed,) finishing off the last sips left in their wineglasses when Darryl noticed Alex stir at a lull in the conversation. His eyes immediately leapt to his owner, suspecting he was about to broach a subject of interest. As Alex spoke, Darryl quickly learned that he was, in fact, correct.

“Kenneth,” Alex said pleasantly, hands folded over the small box. “When was the last time you were given a gift?”

Kenneth seemed so taken aback by the question that he failed to give any kind of response for several seconds. At last, though, he mustered his wits. “I haven’t ever, sir,” he said, humbly. “Unless, you mean like a reward? Sometimes, if I was very well behaved, one of my previous owners would reward me with an extra spoonful of food, at supper.”

Darryl crinkled his brows. “An extra spoonful…?” he began, but trailed off, sharing an apprehensive glance with both Alex and Zavian. He decided to let the matter simply pass by, though, and allow Alex to continue what he’d been saying.

“No, I didn’t mean like a reward,” he answered, “I meant like a gift. Though I suppose you haven’t. Well! I think it’s time we changed that, don’t you?” he lifted his eyebrows in a friendly gesture.

Kenneth, confused, only blinked in response. “Sir?”

Alex smiled. “Come here,” he said, warmly. Kenneth immediately obeyed, though Darryl detected some hesitance in his step. The boy walked around the island once more, stopping a few feet from where Alex was seated, and waited quietly to hear what his owner had to say.

Once there, Alex reached his hand out and poked mildly at the hem of Kenneth’s off-white canvas tunic. Kenneth went a little rigid, Darryl noticed, but after a brief moment during which he closed his eyes and let out a smooth breath, he relaxed again, his shoulders lowering themselves from the stiff line they’d momentarily set themselves in.

“Now, I don’t know about Zavian and Darryl over there,” Alex started again, bringing his hand up to Kenneth’s face and gently lifting the boy’s chin until he was looking him in the eye, “but I’m certainly of the opinion that this complex tunic here doesn’t do you the proper amount of justice that you deserve.” He looked over to the other two. “Don’t you guys think so?”

“Aw, no kidding, sir,” Zavian said. “Thing’s a total piece of crap.”

Darryl offered a small, lop-sided grin. “What he said.”

“Good,” Alex said, looking back to Kenneth. “We’re all in agreement, then. I picked you up a little something on my way home from work. Something I thought you might like.” He lifted the box and offered it to Kenneth, grinning like a fool. “For my newest boy.”

I knew it, Darryl thought, triumphantly. Looks like I get my drink, after all. He really is an old rascal.

Kenneth only stared at the box with large, round eyes for several long moments, then looked back up to Alex, like he was afraid to take it, or like he thought that Alex had perhaps made some kind of mistake. In the end, Alex had to nudge the box a little closer to the lad and offer a soft utterance of encouragement before he accepted, with shaking hands. Even then, though, he only held it, unopened, running the thumb of one hand over the smooth surface of the package.

“Go ahead and open it,” Zavian said, at last, obviously growing a little antsy with all the waiting. Typical Zavian, of course.

Kenneth gave a little start and then, with one last reassuring glance at Alex, carefully pried the lid from the box. He placed that gently on the countertop beside him, then thoughtfully examined what was folded inside the box. Whatever it was, it was made of some kind of smooth, soft, white fabric. Kenneth next laid the box on the counter and pulled the fabric from its innards, which unfolded as he held it aloft, revealing itself as a simple but elegant pleasure slave’s tunic, of a much higher quality than the one he was currently wearing.

Darryl snorted, quietly. Wasn’t that just like Alex, to do something like that. He sighed, affectionately.

Kenneth, meanwhile, was utterly speechless. He ran his fingers over the soft fabric, eyes still wide and, now, mouth a little ajar.

“Do you like it?” Alex inquired, his smile in his voice.

“Sir,” Kenneth said, the surprise that was clearly apparent on his face leaking into his small words. “But it seems so… expensive.”

“I thought you deserved something nice,” Alex answered, in a matter-of-fact sort of way. “To match your lovely face.”

Kenneth’s cheeks went a little pink again, just like they always did whenever he received a compliment. Darryl thought it was rather adorable. “Thank you, sir,” he said quietly, bowing his head again. “I’ve never… it’s very nice. I thank you very much.”

Alex reached his hand out again, and once more kindly lifted the boy’s chin until he was looking into the round green-hazel eyes. “You’re very welcome, and you needn’t be so bashful. It’s the very least I could have done for you.” He brushed the pad of his thumb over Kenneth’s cheek, then drew his hand away and turned to Zavian. “Zavian, wont you show Kenneth to the bathroom? If I were him, I know I’d want to get out of that horrible canvas abomination as soon as possible.”

Zavian practically leapt to his feet, like he had little springs coiled about his toes, and threw back the very last sip of his wine. “Course, sir!” he said, cheerfully. He circled the island quickly, then placed a guiding hand on Kenneth’s back, between his shoulder blades. “It’s just this way, then, just down the hall here-” he booted the kitchen door open and trotted out into the hall, Kenneth following meekly in his wake, clutching his hew garment to his chest like a shield.

In the silence that followed, Alex took another sip of his wine.

“Oh, dear,” Darryl finally said, chuckling a little. “I hope he doesn’t frighten the poor lad too much.”

“Hmm,” Alex said, distractedly. Darryl turned his gaze to his owner. The man was sitting beside him at the island, staring at the door Zavian and Kenneth had just disappeared through, twirling his empty wineglass between his fingers, thoughtfully. His brow was a little furrowed, which caused Darryl, in turn, to furrow his own brow.

“Something wrong, sir?” he asked.

“Not really,” Alex said, and left it at that.

Somehow, Darryl wasn’t convinced. “Not really? Not to be rude, sir, but that doesn’t sound particularly compelling.”

“It’s nothing. I’m just thinking about what he said before. What Kenneth said, that is.” He placed his glass on the counter top with a quiet, glassy sound. “That extra-spoonful-of-food bit.”

“Oh, yes,” Darryl said, easing out a sigh. “I thought that sounded rather strange, myself. I mean, honestly? If his old owner was portioning his food out by the spoonful, then he must have been some kind of, oh, I don’t know, some kind of-”

“Sleazy low-life tyrant? Yes, I rather thought so myself.”

Despite the somewhat heavy subject matter, Darryl found he had to quickly stifle a small laugh.

“I’m sorry. I know it doesn’t really matter, since he’s here now, and all that. It’s just that I can’t help but wonder what his past was like, when I hear him say things like that. I do know that pleasure slaves tend to have a harder time than most others, given the… somewhat sensitive nature of their duties.”

Darryl nodded sagely. “Yes. The thought crossed my mind, too.”

“Why did you want me to shut up, before?” Alex asked suddenly, inquisitive.

“What? When?”

“When I was talking to him about being aloud to speak. I was just trying to encourage him, a little.”

“Oh, I know.” Darryl took the last sip from his own glass. “It’s just… well, I remember from my training, all those years ago, being told not to ever speak unless directly addressed.”

Now it was Alex’s turn to chuckle. “I suppose I went ahead and ruined that one for you, then.”

“Yes. And thank the gods for it, too,” Darryl offered a brief smirk. “At any rate, all I mean is, he’s still so confused about this new situation he’s in. He’s still got all the complex’s rule lists hammered into his head. I suspect it’ll be a while before he truly realizes he’s allowed to throw most of those silly rules out the window without being punished for it.”

“So you’re saying not to push him at all,” Alex concluded.

“Well, perhaps not at all, I think a little friendly encouragement now and then wont frighten him too much. But asking him to speak whenever he wants? Completely unaddressed? Without being given a direct order to do so? It’s far too soon, for that. That might be asking a bit much for a while. He just needs time to adjust, is all.”

“Ah. I see.” Alex turned a warm smile on Darryl. “When did you get so smart on me?”

“It’s common sense, you dolt,” Darryl sniffed, comically. “You just have to remember that not all slaves are as experienced with your methods as Zaiv and I are. Especially not jumpy little pleasure pets, straight out of the complex.”

Alex chuckled, again. “‘Jumpy.’ He is a bit jumpy, isn’t he? Oh dear, maybe Zavian wasn’t the best choice, just now.”

Darryl smiled and shrugged. “Maybe. But we both know he’s harmless. Kenneth will learn that too, soon enough. I rather suspect the kid’s going to get a crash-course in Zavian eventually, anyways. Just think of this as the first lesson.”

Alex smiled a little wider, elbowing Darryl in the ribs.

By the time the kitchen door was once again booted open, spewing a widely grinning Zavian into the room, (the old canvas tunic clasped loosely in his huge hand,) closely followed by an exponentially more flustered-looking Kenneth, Alex and Darryl had fallen onto much lighter conversation. They fell quiet, though, once they caught sight of Kenneth.

“Isn’t it great?” Zavian asked, bouncing on his toes, his smile all toothy and amused. “Like a gods-damned piece or artistry, or something.”

Darryl had to agree with Zavian, and, from the look of the satisfied grin on Alex’s face, he thought his owner did, too.

Kenneth stood just like he had before, arms at his sides, chin tilted down, only now his slim, short form was sheathed in the much nicer material of his new tunic. The garment had all the standard aspects that pleasure slave tunics usually had - it was white, and high-collared, and ended a bit above his knees - but this one, though simple, hinted subtly at the high quality of its making through subtle details. Thin lines of gold stitching lined all the hems, which matched the boy’s honey and pale-gold complexion like clouds might match the blue sky, and the material that the garment itself was made from was smooth and silky, and reflected the light of the kitchen in a soft, pearlescent sort of way. Darryl noticed that Kenneth flushed as everyone took in the lovely sight of him.

“My,” Alex said, the smallest hint of reverence in his pleasant voice. “Aren’t you a sight, indeed.”

“Thank you, sir,” Kenneth offered, respectfully and quietly.

“Could you come a little closer, perhaps?” Alex questioned. Kenneth dutifully did as he was told, crossing the distance between the kitchen’s entrance and where Alex was seated. Darryl watched the boy move in the tunic, and he had to agree that it was quite a striking sight. The way the garment moved over the lad’s hips when he walked, it really was like looking at a piece of art - spectacular.

Zavian, meanwhile, appreciated the view from the back.

“Do you like it?” Alex asked as the boy neared him, and came to a halt.

“Yes, sir,” he said courteously. “It’s much more comfortable than the last one was.” Darryl watched as the blush on Kenneth’s cheeks grew a little darker, just before he asked: “Does it please sir?”

“Of course,” Alex answered, right away. “And not just to look at, either. I’m also very pleased that you’re more comfortable in it. Believe it or not, that was actually the main reason for my buying it. Though I know that’s hard to believe when you look so good in it.”

“With all due respect, I think he’s going to make a liar out of you, sir,” Zavian offered with a little smirk.

“Oh, hush up, you.” Alex quirked a humorous smile of his own at Zavian. “Anyways, yes, I’m very happy with it, and I’m glad you are, too. Now, I’ve been meaning to ask-” Alex suddenly turned his attention to Darryl, who listened right up. “When you three were spending time together today, exactly how much did you tell Kenneth here about his new… situation?”

“Well,” Darryl began, thoughtfully, “only that he’d been purchased yesterday while he was at market, and that this was his new home. Oh, yes, and also that the man who’d purchased him was absolutely the most daft fool on this half of the globe.” He finished in such a serious tone that it must’ve taken Kenneth a moment to actually hear what Darryl had said, because Darryl noticed with a little stab of amusement that it was several seconds before the boy’s eyes widened at those insubordinate words.

“You’ve always been a stickler for the truth, haven’t you, Darryl?”

“Unquestionably, sir.”

“Hmm. Yes. Well.” Alex turned his eyes back to Kenneth. “Be a good boy, would you, and don’t follow this punk’s poor example,” he stabbed his thumb accusingly in Darryl’s direction. Both Zavian and Darryl chuckled. “Anyways,” Alex continued, “it sounds like Darryl just about told you the gist of the situation. But he didn’t tell you the whole story, it seems.”

Kenneth’s brows furrowed, even though his face was, once again, tilted respectfully down towards the floor. Alex again corrected him with an easy hand, lifting his head.

“The truth of the matter,” Alex persisted, “is that I actually purchased you as a gift.”

Kenneth’s eyes immediately went round and worried, a little of the color draining from his face. The poor lad looked as though he’d just had a throw rug pulled from underneath his feet. Darryl was about to say something reassuring, but Alex quickly rushed in to fill the space.

“No worries,” he said hastily, “you’re not leaving here. You are mine. But it was just that Darryl and Zavian had been pestering me for a new companion and, well, Halcyon is coming up, and the three of us had been discussing it a lot lately, and I thought, why wait for Halcyon to come anyways, when all the prices will go up…?” He paused suddenly, like he realized he’d been rambling, and then started again, more purposefully. “I suppose the long and short of it is just, well, even though I’m your owner, I actually purchased you as a gift for Darryl and Zavian here. So, ultimately, you duties…” Alex sighed. “You duties will include serving all three of us.”

That revelation didn’t seem to lessen Kenneth’s saucer-eyes very much. Or much at all, really. Instead, his gaze just jumped twitchily between Alex and Darryl, who were in front of him, and his head swiveled around once for a very brief, frightened glance at Zavian, who was behind him, before it turned back around to land on Alex once again.

“I think you just scared him a little more, sir,” Zavian stated, rather unnecessarily.

Darryl eased out a sigh of his own. Oh, his poor owner. It’d been so long since he’d had a new slave.

“I’m afraid you might be right.” Alex looked at Kenneth, apologetically. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to intimidate you. I just thought…” he lifted his own hand to his chin, thinking for a moment, then allowed the hand to drop back down into his lap, an air of decision about him. “I’ll tell you what. Do you remember how to get to the master bedroom from here? The room you woke up in this morning, that is.”

Kenneth nodded, apparently glad to have been given a definitive question he could answer confidently. “Yes, sir, I do.”

“Alright then. Go there,” Alex smiled at him, kindly. “I’m just going to talk to Zavian and Darryl here for a bit. Discuss a couple things with them. You just go on ahead and wait for me in the master bedroom, and I’ll join you there in a little while to have a little talk with you, too. Does that sound agreeable, to you?”

Again, Kenneth nodded. “Yes, of course, as it please you, sir.”

“Good boy. Go on ahead then, I’ll meet you there in a bit.”

Kenneth placed his hand to his forehead and bowed respectfully, then quickly departed from the room, stepping carefully around Zavian and sliding unobtrusively out into the hallway. The kitchen remained silent in his wake, no one speaking as they listened to the soft padding of the boy’s bare feet make its way down the hall, towards the bedroom.

“Oh, good lords,” Alex finally said, dropping his head into his hands, comically. “I’m going to give the poor lad an anxiety attack before any of us even get a chance to lay with him.”

Zavian folded up the old canvas tunic that was still in his hands, and laid it on the counter top. He shrugged. “Nah, I don’t think so. By the sounds of it, kid’s had worse scares in his life than the one you just gave him.”

“Still, though.” Alex lifted his head. “I’d rather not add to the list.”

“I wouldn’t worry too much over it, sir,” Darryl assured his owner. “I think Zaiv’s right. He’ll recover soon enough. Besides, it’s only a matter of time before he realizes he’s perfectly safe here, and I’m sure you’ll also grow used to him yourself, soon enough. It’s just a matter of adjustment, for both of you.”

From his place, Zavian nodded sagely, apparently in agreement.

Alex rested his chin in his hand, thoughtfully. “You’re probably right. But, nevertheless. Sounds like he’s had a rough past. I just don’t want to scare him unduly.”

“Hmm.” Just then, Darryl thought of something. “Speaking of his past, sir - would you happen to… know anything about it? Did they tell you anything at the complex?”

“Well. They said that his number was entered into the system two years ago. Also, that he’s Sav, which explains the coloring.”

“Sav?” Darryl said, surprised.

He watched Alex nod. “Yes. I had much the same reaction when they told me at the complex, myself.”

Everyone was quiet for a long moment, as the room filled with a somewhat pensive air. Then: “Well. That’s odd,” Zavian said, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Yes,” Darryl replied. “Certainly unusual to see Sav down this far south. Gods, the transition must have been a shock to his system. I wonder if he’ll be well…?” He trailed off there, deep in thought.

“The complex mentioned that, too. Since he’s Sav, we’re going to have to keep a close watch on his health. Take good care of him. He was listed as ‘immune deficient,’ although I’ve been assured he has an absolutely clean bill of health.”

“Not what I meant,” Zavian chimed in again, interrupting the other two. “I mean, well, yeah, that part’s odd, too. But the odd thing I was talking about was the fact that he was only entered into the system two years ago.”

“So?” Alex questioned, a bit confused.

“Kid said he was brought here about five years ago.” Darryl watched Zavian hold up a hand, displaying all five of his long, dexterous fingers. “Said he was captured and brought here. Not born a slave.”

“Oh, dear,” Alex said, looking worried, but not surprised. “Yes. I was afraid something like that might have been the situation.”

“Might help to explain why he’s such a jumpy little fellow, too,” Zavian continued. “Someone owned him for three years and didn’t register him? Sounds like an illegal capture to me, not a proper over-the-boarder sale at all. I’m willing to bet that someone who’s willing to do that isn’t likely to be the kindest of owners. Kid probably had a rough time of it.”

Darryl thought on this for a moment, and then added, sullenly, “Gods, Zaiv, you’re probably right. And what he was saying before about the whole ‘extra spoonful of food’ thing - whoever owned him was likely abusive as all hell. Damn.” He shook his head, mournfully, and bit at his knuckles. “Poor kid. He’s sweet as a dove, he doesn’t deserve anything like that. Not in the least.”

Zavian also shook his head. “Nope. Damn shame.”

“It’s been my experience that matters such as these often aren’t fair,” Alex pinched the bridge of his nose, slowly massaging the skin there, digging the tips of his fingers into the corners of his eyes. “I suppose we just ought to try to make his transition as easy as possible. The shorter the amount of time he’s wary of us, the better. I want him to be happy, here. Comfortable.”

“Of course, sir,” Darryl said, his voice soft and sympathetic. “We want the same for him. Don’t we, Zavian?” He turned to look at Zavian, who still had his arms crossed over his chest.

“‘Course,” he answered, his own voice deep with sincerity. “‘Course we do.”

Alex nodded, slightly, just a slow up-and-down movement in his neck that just barely jittered the short hairs of his bangs. “Good. That’ll make it easier for him, then.” Suddenly Alex dropped his probing hand and blinked a few times, like he was getting rid of the lingering feeling of his own fingers. Darryl thought the action was rather endearing. “Lords. What would I do without you two?”

“Yeah, seriously. We’re clearly the brains of this operation, over here.” Zavian offered a lop-sided grin, and tilted his head a little to the side. Darryl got the impression that he was trying to lighten the mood.

Alex raised his dark eyebrows. “That so?”

“Absolutely.” Darryl, following Zavian’s example, also pounced on the opportunity to lift the atmosphere. “Without us, you’d surely just fall to pieces.”

“Yeah. And no one would even be here to sweep up the mess!”

“Hey, now,” Alex said, a small smile pulling at the corners of his lips. Darryl was glad to see it. “Give me a least a little credit.”

“Nah,” Zavian replied, “as a general rule, I usually like to give myself as much credit as possible.”

“Well, in that case,” Darryl jabbed his finger towards the sink, “perhaps you’d like to credit yourself to some of those dishes, then? They can’t just sit there all night, after all.”

“Aw, c’mon Darryl, that’s your job!”

“Have you got a more productive way to spend you time, tonight? I’d be surprised if you did.” Darryl rested his chin in his hand and smirked.

Zavian gave a great, woeful moan, (one that rather satisfied Darryl a great deal,) but before he could give a proper retort Alex cut back into the conversation, amusement crawling back into the edges of his voice.

“Actually, before you get to that, Zavian, have a seat,” he said, gesturing to the stool Zavian had been sitting at before, on the other side of the island. Zavian did so. “I do want to have a quick chat with you guys. I’ve got some rules, concerning the new fellow.”

“Sure thing, sir,” Zavian said. “Rules I can handle. Dishes, not so much.”

“You’re a huge child,” Darryl chided, affectionately.

“They’re simple rules, really,” Alex continued, like nothing at all had happened. He rested his elbows on the countertop. “You guys shouldn’t have a problem with them, I wouldn’t think.”

“Alright,” Darryl said, finally settling down and paying attention. He placed his own elbows on the counter. “What do we need to know?”



That’s it for now. Next chapter’s well on its way to being done. Let me know what you think!