Fate - 5
"Over," Ray commands as soon as he enters the room. He pauses just long enough to lock the door before taking four long strides to the bed, tossing aside the bedclothes and grabbing Florian's leg.
His arrival wakes Florian from a sound sleep, but the blond barely has time to open his eyes before he is roughly turned on his stomach. His nightshirt is pushed up and Ray is inside him before Florian has time to understand what is happening.
He is still sore from the last time, just a few hours before, and the harsh, uneven rhythm does nothing to ease the pain. He presses his face into the damp pillow and sheds more silent tears. It will be fast, as every other joining has been since Ray received that letter from his old friend.
The initial excitement over traveling to exotic lands in such luxurious accommodations faded quickly. Florian is spending most of the long trip confined to their cabin, held there by his seasickness and Ray's demands. Florian tried to please him at first, now he simply waits for it to be over and for Ray to leave again. Nights are the worst, with Ray too drunk or uncaring to notice Florian's misery.
They're six days away from their destination and Florian wonders if he'll make it. He grips the sheet and bites his lip hard to keep from screaming when Ray presses especially deep and spends himself. The usually welcome warmth of Ray's body atop his own is one more burden Florian must bear. He holds himself as limp as possible and waits, knowing there will be no tender caress, no soft words. There is only pain as Ray withdraws and walks away. Florian remains still, listening to Ray clean himself and change into his formalwear for dinner with the captain. It's only when the door closes that Florian moves, shifting to the side of the bed and leaning over the waiting bucket where he is violently ill.
Breathing raggedly and barely able to stand, Florian carries the bucket into the bathroom where he cleans it, then cleans himself, taking special care with his teeth and breath. He's light-headed when he returns to the bed setting aside his sweat-soaked nightshirt and drawing on a clean one, along with some loose trousers. He calls for housekeeping to take the laundry and remake the bed with fresh linens. The two women who arrive work efficiently and give him only motherly looks of concern, not the condemning, disdainful looks he's become used to since being sold to Ray. The older of the two women hesitates on her way out, then looks directly at him. She gives him a sympathetic smile and hurries away, leaving a bit of comfort in her wake.
Florian settles into the stiff armchair slowly and takes up his book. Ray assigned him an entire pile to be read by the end of the journey and Florian's afraid of what will happen if he doesn't finish them. It's dry reading, full of politics and history and Florian struggles with every page, but he persists, hoping that it will soften Ray's current mood.
Florian's half-asleep when a quiet knock startles him. He sets the book down and rises as quickly as he can. He doesn't expect to find Laila on the other side, her face lined with concern.
"Let me in," she demands, pushing him aside and closing the door quickly. She locks it, leaning back against it and breathing rapidly. "I'm not allowed in first class without Ray, but he's in the bar, drinking, again. I..." She can't meet his eyes and Florian knows she isn't here out of concern for him. "He booked me and the others in third class. I barely see him and he's... there's something wrong and he won't talk to me."
Florian motions her towards a chair and offers tea from the service that had been delivered hours ago. It is cold, but it is all he has to offer. She accepts gratefully and drinks without protest.
"He's not actually talking to me either," Florian eases himself into the opposite chair and tries not to wince, knowing she is watching. She nods, with perhaps a hint of understanding, knowing full well what Florian isn't saying.
"I thought things had changed... between you."
"They had until that letter arrived. Do you know anything about this friend we're going to see?"
"No, Ray never mentioned him before. Although…" she looks away, frowning, as if making a difficult decision. After an awkward silence, she turns back to him. "I've only seen him drink like this once before. I don't know what caused it, but I found him in his study with the empty bottle. When I helped him to bed he called me Azura." She closes her eyes as if in pain, but continues. "He asked me if I regretted saving his life."
Florian leans forward, ignoring his own pain and places a gentle hand on Laila's arm. "Ray's strong, Laila. Your support will help him through this, whatever this is. You just have to be patient."
Laila opens her eyes, blinking away the moisture as she regards Florian with surprise and curiosity. "I… thank you." She stands abruptly, her expression softer than usual. She straightens her clothing to avoid looking at Florian again, then walks to the door quickly. She half-turns back towards him where he now stands in front of his chair watching her. "I'll have soup sent down. You need to eat to keep up your strength."
Without waiting for his startled thanks, she eases the door open and peers out before making a quick exit.
Florian looks down at the pile of books and shakes his head. His mind is too full to concentrate anyway. He'll try again later. Perhaps he'll even risk a walk on deck before Ray comes back.
A few minutes later, Florian is still wandering around the cabin, tidying up, when a knock sounds on the door. To his surprise, it is a waiter pushing a service cart with soup, tea and an array of crackers and a basket of fruit, breads and cheese.
"The lady requested something light for you, sir. I understand you're a bit under the weather." The waiter is a thin, older man with a lined face and ruddy skin, but he has a pleasant voice and works efficiently as he talks. "Not to worry, sir. It's common for our first-time travelers to have a bit of trouble adjusting. This food will fix you right up - not too heavy, but it will give you strength. There you go sir. Call if you need anything. Good evening sir."
The man bows and exits, leaving a nicely laid out table, complete with tablecloth and flowers in a vase. The sight gives Florian comfort and the soup smells wonderful. He settles into the chair and takes a cautious sip, waiting several long moments to see how it settles before deciding it will be all right to continue.
The light broth is delicious and the crackers are just salty enough to help settle the unease in his stomach. Before he realizes, the dishes are empty and he is comfortably full for the first time in days.
Feeling revived, he clears the small table and places the dishes back on the cart, draping the cloth napkin over them before placing the cart outside the cabin door. He checks his pocketwatch for the time and dismisses the idea of going on deck. It's later than he thought and he doesn't want Ray returning to an empty cabin.
Taking up his book again, he settles into the chair, determined to finish the chapter at least. He manages to finish two before fatigue has his eyes closing. He's weak from his illness and Ray's demands and tires easily. Despite that, he resolves to prepare for his patron's arrival.
Indulging in another bath, he uses lightly scented oils to soften his skin and prepare for Ray's attentions. He towels his hair dry and combs it smooth. He brushes his teeth again, and sweetens his breath. Still naked, he walks to the wardrobe and selects one of his silk robes, tying it loosely. The silk slides sensuously over his skin as he moves.
With a smile, Florian reclaims the book and settles on the bed, arranging the robes and himself carefully. He'll remain like this until Ray returns, and then he'll try once more to please his master.
XXXXX
Ray staggers into the cabin nearly an hour later, nearly numb from hours of drinking. He sees Florian immediately, reclining on the bed and smiling.
Stomach lurching, Ray dashes for the bathroom where he is violently ill. He pushes away Florian's comforting hands and offers of cool water while he clings to the toilet and wishes for death.
When those hands touch him again, so gently but tentatively, Ray explodes. He rises, shoving Florian hard enough to send him out of the bathroom, onto the cabin floor. Ray sees Florian's pained expression but it doesn't stop his rampage. He reaches for his whip where it lays, coiled and waiting.
The first lash catches Florian across his bared chest. The second parallels it. The whip is raised for a third strike when, instead of cowering, Florian tugs his robe open and prostrates himself, flat on his back and fully exposed.
Ray leaves a stripe across his belly and one across his right thigh. Florian flinches, but holds his position without a sound.
"Damn you." A stripe across the left thigh.
Damn you." Another stripe across the belly.
"Damn you!!" A cross-stripe on the chest.
Ray raises his whip again, his whole body trembling. Without striking he throws the whip down next to Florian's body and falls to his knees, chest heaving.
"Ray?" Florian sits up with a groan. He enfolds the younger man in his arms, tears filling his eyes, not for his own pain but for that of his master.
"Don't," Ray protests brokenly. "Don't treat me with kindness." He reaches up and grabs Florian's hair, forcing his head back painfully so he can look directly into those violet depths. "Break, damn you."
Ray shifts without warning, still gripping Florian's hair, he uses that hold to force Florian down onto his back. Ray presses him down with his body, covering Florian, taking him brutally. "Break," he demands as he thrusts. "Break."
Unsure of how to react, Florian wraps his arms and legs around Ray and holds him close, aiding in his own destruction. When Ray finally collapses, spent, Florian continues to hold him until Ray drifts into sleep.
Florian shifts Ray aside and rises slowly. He turns down the bedding and lifts Ray up, struggling, but finally managing to get the man into bed. He removes Ray's outer layer of clothing and straightens his undergarments as well as he can.
Casting aside his robe, Florian checks his wounds, thankful that none of them are really bleeding. He staggers into the bathroom and wipes away the blood. His vision is darkening and he feels like he might faint, but he's thankful that the nausea has settled, at least for now. Without bothering to dress, he returns to the main cabin and slides into bed. He hopes to rest and gain a little strength for whatever comes next.
XXXXX
"I can't do this," Ray whispers into his pillow, his voice breaking. He's gripping the fine linen of the pillowcase hard enough that his knuckles are white, but Florian doesn't dare say anything. Instead, he remains on his side of the bed, frozen by indecision.
Ray's made it clear that he doesn't want Florian's touch, yet every rigid line in his body cries out for comfort. Casting up a silent plea to whatever deity might listen to a damned soul, Florian moves a hand to his master's back, placing it lightly. When Ray doesn't object, Florian strokes Ray's back like he would a frightened child's. Ray buries his head in the pillow and his shoulders tremble.
Florian spends the next twenty minutes offering silent comfort until the rigid shoulders finally ease and Ray drifts into sleep. Florian curls up close, but slightly apart and finally rests.
He wakes to a once-familiar caress, calloused fingers stroking his face and toying softly with his hair. He has to force himself to open his eyes, half-afraid he's dreaming.
"Ray?" he breathes the name like a prayer.
"It's 'master'," Ray corrects mildly. "For now and until I tell you otherwise, you must call me master."
"Yes, master." Florian is more than happy to comply, although he doesn't understand. It wasn't so long ago that Ray had told him not to call him that.
"I should have told you sooner." Ray shakes his head and looks away. "No, I should not have brought you at all, but it can't be helped. He wouldn't have spared you either way."
Ray's voice changes and he presses his hand against Florian's face. "We'll be in Morocco soon. Azura demanded that I come, and bring my servants. He knew about you, of course. He keeps track of all his pets, including me."
Ray shifts uncomfortably and finally stands. "He saved my life, years ago when I was a child. He owns me because of it. And now he owns you as well. He's a cruel master, Florian. He won't indulge you like I do. He'll do his best to break you and he'll enjoy every minute of it. The things I've done to you these last few weeks are nothing compared to his smallest cruelties."
Ray leans forward, cupping Florian's face in his hands and looking into those amethyst eyes. "Deities help me, there's nothing I can do to save you. There's nothing I can do to save either of us."
"Then I will have to save us both." Florian reaches up and mirrors Ray's touch. The fear and weakness will come later, and will have to be overcome, but right now he feels only strength, drawn from the love of his master.
:::end part 5:::