For You I Suffer Part 42
I came to slowly as someone gently shook my shoulder. I moaned and turned away, denying the attempt and snuggling further into a warm, firm surface. The structure moved as a sound rumbled deep below. It sounded suspiciously like a chuckle and I awoke with as gasp as I realized that the comfortable surface I had been sleeping so comfortably against was none other than Sergeant Bruce's chest. My cheeks colored from my heedlessness, though a quick glance up at his face told me that he was far from offended at the familiarity.
"Wake up, little kitten. Your master has come for you."
For a heart-pounding moment, I thought he meant that the baron, himself, had appeared in the modest inn. My gaze flew to where Wufei stood in the middle of the room, surrounded by men in various states of satiated dozing. But my heartbeat calmed even as disappointment rose foolishly my breast. The young captain was, indeed, talking to my master, as Quatre was well deserving of that appellation. My sudden movement had caught the blond's attention, and the sergeant stood up as Quatre turned toward us, disturbing my purchase and forcing me to do likewise. He beamed at me as he made his way through the maze of snoring bodies. I tried to go to him, but still exhausted from my previous exertions, I stumbled on unsteady legs. I was glad that the large sergeant had remained close by as I landed against his sturdy form. His arms curved around me as though to keep me at his side, causing the blood to rush to my cheeks once more.
"Duo," Quatre said in a soft undertone so as not to disturb the slumbering men. "I trust you enjoyed your evening." Now that he was closer, I could see that his expression was tempered by worry, so I smiled shyly in return in an attempt to ease his concern.
"Yes, my lord. My evening was, um, quite well." My blush deepened as both the captain as his second laughed at my circumspect response.
"Duo provided us ample entertainment, my lord," the captain said, gallantly covering for my obvious humiliation. Quatre's smile grew more genuine, comforted by our combined reassurances.
"Very good! Very good!" He reached out and took my hand in his and used the connection to pull me to his side. Bruce's hand clung to my bare skin for a moment. I glanced back at him, surprised to see genuine regret in his expression as he finally released me. I went to Quatre unhesitatingly, glad that the night's adventures had come to an end even though they had not been nearly as bad as I had feared. Quatre looked me up and down, nodding slightly as though satisfied with what he saw.
"I thank you, captain," he continued, "for taking such good care of Duo. I shall be sure to inform the baron of your continued loyalty." Wufei and Bruce bowed their heads and spoke their gratitude. With that, the interview was done and Quatre pulled me after him as he left the inn. I glanced back over my shoulder one last time only to regret the action immediately as I saw the sergeant smile and wink. I was heartily grateful for the cool evening air as I feared my face might catch flame from the heat that scalded my already tortured cheeks at his unexpected playfulness.
Quatre led me to the horse he had used to travel between the castle and the inn. He turned to watch me as I mounted behind him and frowned as he noticed that was moving more gingerly than was my wont. He clicked his tongue and lifted the reigns, prompting the horse to begin its journey home. He kept the pace slow, for which I was very glad for my hind regions were protesting the motion horse's back as he went along. At first I thought that we would make the trip in silence, but Quatre waited only until we were out of the courtyard before he spoke.
"Duo, tell me the truth. Are you alright? Did the soldiers treat you harshly? I was very concerned for you the entire time you were there. I knew that it was too soon for you to attempt something so strenuous after what happened with that damnable ambassador. But Heero authorized it and the soldiers were most deserving of the honor what with how they have practically saved trade within Calderash. But still, I was most stressed from the moment I left you at the inn until the moment I saw you again. Duo, can you not speak? Are you alright? Please answer me!"
I laughed despite myself, amused and somehow relieved at his garrulous nervousness. I wrapped my arms around his waist in a fond embrace and rested my chin upon his shoulder.
"I assure you, my lord, I am perfectly well. The soldiers were kind and...lively companions. I found no reason to detest the experience."
In fact, I was quite horrified at just how much I had not minded what had occurred at the inn. Though I was loath to admit it to myself, I had rather enjoyed my time with the uncouth band of fighting men. After the drama and intrigue of my more recent experiences acting as the baron's personal thank you card, I had found myself appreciating the soldiers' forthright attentions. I was ashamed at how much I had liked being fawned over, at how pleased I had been to help satiate their honest, uncomplicated desires.
Quatre accepted my reply at face value. I felt his slight body relax as the tension left him. A friend of his whom I had not met had had a birthday several days before, and there had apparently been a small gathering in celebration. Quatre had been obligated to attend during one of the afternoons I had spent at Trowa's. He chatted about the party for the remainder the way back to Windshire. My mind and body, still lethargic from the amazing rush of delayed release I had experience, were not up to the task of follow the endless stream of words and I slipped easily into sleep.
Quatre awoke me with some difficultly once we finally arrived at the castle's stable yard. I followed the blond heedlessly as he led me to the baron's quarters. It was all I could do to put one foot in front of the other, and it wasn't until I felt soft carpet beneath them that I bothered to take notice of my surroundings. A fire had been laid in the main hearth, but it was evident that the master of the house was not in residence. The air did not prick my skin as it did whenever I was in Heero's presence and the room seemed quite still and dull in comparison.
"It is rather late, but shall I call Helen for you?" Quatre gave me a swift once over. "I would imagine you would appreciate a bath." I nodded but was unwilling to drag Helen from her bed at such an advanced hour.
"A quick wash will suffice for now, my lord. I do not wish to disturb Helen if it can be avoided." Quatre smiled, agreeing with my solicitous gesture.
"The tub should be full. I am just going to put these away," he said, opening his hand to reveal my clamps and cockring. Wufei had returned them at some point without my knowledge. "I will wait for you here."
I was deathly tired and made quick work of my bath lest I be lured into drowning by the pleasantly steamy water. I was reluctant to go to sleep with wet hair, but the mass desperately needed a wash and I figured one night sleeping thus would not kill me. Quarter was, indeed, waiting for me as I came back into the main sitting room, a towel wrapped around my hair and I tried to rid it of the bulk of the water trapped within it.
The baron had still not returned, but the only emotion I could manage was disappointment rather than the heartbreak that would usually accompany the knowledge that I was, once more, to go to bed alone. Still, Quatre must have notice the brief sweep my gaze gave the room, for his smooth brow was disturbed by a brooding line when he caught my eye.
"It appears that the baron will be away working late, I fear." His lips were tight with anger. I simply nodded, dropping the towel to the floor as I made my way to the bed chamber. How my mother would scold me for my sloppiness. But no thoughts of her or my acute loneliness long survived after my head hit the pillow. The covers had been pulled back, but I did not have the energy to pull them over me. I registered the chill of the air before a soft warmth chased it away; then I knew no more.
~*~
The next day saw the return of the daily treks to Trowa's cottage for what had become my routine. Argent was progressing quite well in his recovery and I was able to lend Trowa more of a hand with his other chores. The season was advancing and the earliest crops were becoming ready to harvest. The days blended slowly into weeks in this manner, my time at Trowa's interspersed with only minor events such as public dinners, during which I was occasionally put on display. But I had become rather used to being an object and those moments that had caused me such torment in the past now caused only the obligatory blush. I had become quite convinced that the few remaining months of my contract would continue in the same unfulfilling vain.
For my master remained aloof as ever and everything seemed to take on a featureless paleness in the wake of his neglect. He still took his enjoyment of my body most nights, but any hints of a more tender regard were almost completely absent in his interactions with me. Yet despite my best intentions, my body and my heart remained at his mercy. I tried desperately to accept the unbearable truth, that Heero's heart would forever remain closed to me.
But every time he came to me, he demolished my resolve. Even the smallest touch of his hands brought me to the heights of pleasure until I was once again helpless beneath the weight of my desire and love for him. Every time I succumbed, I called myself the veriest fool. I forced myself to put away all of the dreams I had dared to indulge when Heero had first made me that incredible offer and I had so willingly become his slave. But then my master would touch me again, and I was his once more.
Though the baron's manner became ever cooler, the gamesman continued his relentless assault on my heart. I tried to resist him as earnestly as I strove to quell my love for Heero, and my attempts were equally fruitless. Each kindness bestowed by the emerald-eyed gameskeeper was like the sweetest fruit, tempting me beyond all reason and loyalty.
Through it all, the wolf remained my dearest confidant, listening to me with attentive incomprehension day after day. Eventually Trowa had deemed him well enough to get some exercise, convinced that it would only aid his recovery. Argent had become almost tame during our long hours together, and neither of us showed any wariness as I tied a length of rope loosely about his neck to serve as a leash. I urged him out of the shed that had been his home during his convalescence. He moved slowly and stiffly at first, as though worried that his wound would pain him still. But he was strong and his energy soon returned along with his youth, it seemed. I could only laugh at his puppy-like antics as he fair pulled me hither and yon about the courtyard in front of Trowa's cottage. He leapt and yelped and ran with his tongue lolling in a wolfy grin doubtlessly delighted to be on his feet at long last. He tired quickly that first day, but after several more of the same, his strength and stamina returned a pace.
When the day finally arrived that Trowa deemed Argent well enough to be released, I was thoroughly sad to see him go. I was overjoyed that the wolf was finally healthy enough to once again live as he should and that our hard work had paid off so wonderfully. But I could not help the tear that escaped as Trowa and I watched Argent lope off into the woods, pausing to spare us only a brief backward glance before the shadows swallowed him whole.
"You've done well," the gamesman offered.
Trowa's arm slid comfortingly about my shoulders and I leaned against him, grateful for his silent acceptance of my sadness. His chest was warm and his heartbeat steady and I could not help just taking a moment to enjoy his nearness. As had become my habit while tending Argent, I was wearing a borrowed tunic and breaches as a ward against the wolf's sharp claws and frisky playfulness. One might think that being clothed would have made me less sensitive than my habitual nakedness, but the feel of a double layer of cloth between Trowa's body and my own only seemed to augment the sensation of his muscles and warm skin even as it concealed them.
I began to feel unsettled as my awareness of him increased. I started to pull away from him, trying to hide my sudden nervousness, but what had been a comforting embrace instantly became a prison. I glanced up at Trowa, my lips parting to form the obvious question. But the sound and my senses were captured by the heat of his lips as he laid claim to my mouth.
What began as gentle wooing soon became a determined siege. Strong hands held me fast, one kept my head in place while the other was positioned on my lower back to hinder any attempts at escape. But any such thoughts were not immediately to be found in my head as I was overwhelmed by the gamesman's uncharacteristic show of unrestrained passion. My hands moved helplessly to his shoulders as his tongue began to thrust slowly into my mouth, a marked contrast to the ferocity with which he held me. His tongued swept over the sensitive surfaces of my mouth, leaving nothing unexplored and reducing my knees to water.
The heat radiating from his tall, strong form prompted my own temperature to respond in kind. His hand moved from my back to my ass, kneading the firm mound and causing my cock to swell helplessly. Soon my clothes seemed naught but a stifling torment. Sweat began to bead upon my skin and I desperately wanted to be rid of my confinement so that the breeze might lend me some relief.
In the end it was that desire which lent me some much needed clarity. I would later swear that it was the weight of my borrowed garments that had confounded my reason. They had lent me the false impression that I had returned to my old self, that I had no other obligations than to fulfill my own wishes. I foolishly believed that my heart was controlled by my own will alone. And it was only when I realized that I had allowed myself to be seduced by my mistaken sense of self that I was able to pull away from Trowa's fervent embrace.
Such a difference was Trowa's determination from my master's frigid demeanor that I can scarcely put my impression of it into words. Although both men were similarly loathe to waste breath on needless words, the gamesman smelled of field and beast while the baron radiated the power and majesty that was his birthright. And yet, both stirred a fire in my belly that refused to be quenched. Where my baron held my heart firmly in his iron fist, the gamesman wooed me with quiet purpose.
But though Trowa had marred it with the tiniest of cracks, Heero's hold had not yet broken. My chest heaved as I backed away from the gameskeeper. I pressed the back of my hand to my mouth, though I am uncertain whether it was to preserve the feel of his mouth or to wipe it away. Perhaps he saw the pained confusion in my eyes, but Trowa said nothing as I retreated. He remained motionless except for the tiny smile that twitched wryly at the corner of his lips. He continued to watch as I increased the distance between us, his direct gaze promising me that I would not be able to run away forever. I spun and fled to the shed where Argent had spent his recuperation, refusing to give credence to his impudent certainty.
I shed my clothing immediately upon reaching the shed, the feel of the air against my bare skin serving to remind me of just who's creature I yet remained. Call me a coward, but I hid there, cleaning away the lingering reminders of the wolf's residence until I could hear the rhythmic clopping approach of Quatre and his borrowed mount. I told myself that I just needed time away from Trowa's tempting presence so that my equilibrium might be restored. As I peered cautiously out of the shed only to see Trowa's back as he returned to his cabin after greeting Quatre, leaving us to our own devices, I narrowly avoided calling out my own lie.
TBC...
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