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Alex had gotten the invitation in a text message, and despite his efforts to keep a clean reputation on campus.... it was Mark. And he was disastrously weak for Mark. As the text suggested, they drove separately, and met up a town away from Orlin, and Alex discovered the address Mark had sent him to be a planetarium.

"Mark, what an inspired idea." he said with a warm smile, meeting up with his student in the lobby, where the brunette was waiting for him. They'd barely spoken since the raquetball injury and subsequent uproar with the faculty inquisition. Alex had had to force himself to stay away from the young man, or risk destroying his career. But they were two hours- almost a hundred miles- away from campus. Nobody was going to see them here, and the blonde's heart ached to spend time with his partner. The inquiry had left Alex feeling horribly alone and estranged, and he craved comfort.

"I have to admit, Astronomy isn't my strong suit. It'll be nice to experience something new."

"You want to.... what?" he asked, certain he'd misheard.

He was standing at his bedroom door, leaning against the doorframe and looking down at his roommate with a stunned expression. They had been chatting about work-life balance, hobbies, habits, and all that. The stuff that kept them sane in between studying and taking tests. Mark had teased him that his hobby was collecting sex toys, which Ian had brushed aside, arguing that at least it was better than talking to his fish.

And then Mark had taken a half-step closer. only a few inches but Ian had felt the distance close between them- shifting from something casual to something... else, and the brunette told him he wanted to see his collection, leading to the present moment, and Ian's stupefied expression.

"You... want to... fuck. Um... okay. Give..... Give me a few minutes? Like, go make a pop-tart or something." Ian said, gently closing the door between them.

His heart was racing. Mark.... wanted to come in his room? And talk about sex? About toys? The dark-haired boy tried to keep his breathing in check as he darted around his room, trying to clean up. He was a slob and a half, never having a good enough reason to keep his personal space tidy, but Mark... Mark was that reason. Hell, Mark was his reason for a lot of things. If Mark wanted to come inside, he wanted him to like being in his room. Maybe enough to you know, stay... hang out....

"Slow down, Ian... you're getting ahead of yourself..." He muttered as he collected all his trash from around the room and shoved it all into a large trash sack. "He's probably not interested in you. That can't be it. He's just... well, he's new to this whole sex thing, so he wants you to teach him the basics, right? That's gotta be it. Just a general rundown of what's out there.... yep. Totally normal chat between two bros. Entirely platonic."

Ian put his face in his hands. It was burning up. Why did his chest feel so tight? Talking to himself usually kept him from getting too worked up, but there were some non-platonic thoughts that were creeping into his brain and it was getting him riled

"Settle down.... Take it slow...." he whispered to himself, wondering if he should change the sheets on his bed. He had a bad habit of snacking in his bed while he studied, so there were crumbs... That would bother Mark, right? He didn't want him to be bothered. Fucking hell, why did he even think that Mark would be in between his bedsheets anyway?? Shit. Don't think about that, Ian. If you let him in here with a boner it's gonna be weird.

He changed the sheets anyway. He really did just want things to be nice. He even made the bed. Sorta. Not like he had a lot of practice but at least it didn't look like a gremlin nest anymore. What to do with the trash, though.... he'd filled up an entire 10-liter bag, and if he brought it outside mark would realize just how much filth there had been in his room. He wanted to make a good impression.... So, he opened his window, took off the screen, and tossed the trashbag out, down two stories to the lawn below. He'd go put it in the dumpster later. But for now, his room actually looked nice. Nice enough for Mark.

Wait, one last thing....

Ian went over to his trunk full of.... 'stuff,' and opened the lid. If Mark saw some of this stuff, the bondage gear, the chastity cage, the sounding rod, the sex swing... you know, the really kinky stuff, it would probably freak him out, right? Ian grabbed his breakfast-in-bed-tray (a totally worthwhile investment) and carefully put his tamer toys on there. Anal plugs, dildos, vibrators, pretty basic stuff. He closed the chest and placed the tray on top. Yeah, that seemed good. A nice little introduction to toys, to very platonically help educate his crush with. Mark wouldn't know this was only like.... a fraction of what he owned, right?

Now that he was done cleaning and preparing, he went back to his bedroom door and stuck his head out. "Okay Mark, you can come in now."

The heat was punishing. The work was backbreaking. The hours were long and cruel, but his masters were crueler. Still, not a day went by that Hanzo didn't wonder if his life might be bearable if he wasn't so completely alone. The Chinese had one another, as did the black-skinned men, but Hanzo had nothing. Nothing and no one. They'd taken him from his home, from his brother, and forced him into a cramped boat in order to be taken across the sea to this dry, desolate hell, where nothing existed but sand, sun, and the wood and steel of the railroad.

He had no choice but to bear his misery in silence since no one understood him anyway, the ink on his arm glossy with sweat as he lifted up the next hot steel bar with the other men, gritting his teeth in pain as the scalding metal burned his hands through the cotton gloves, tears watering in his eyes by the time they threw it down onto the gravel in relief, kicking and moving it into place before going back to get the other one, Hanzo pausing to dig a pebble out of his shoe so it didn't tear open one of the blisters on his feet.

Dinner was disgusting. As usual. Some muddy bean brew that reminded Hanzo of Natto, though he'd give anything to be eating that bitter dish at home than to sit beneath unfamiliar stars trying to swallow the sticky flavorless slop.

While foreign dogs howled and cried shrilly in the night as if trying to keep Hanzo from getting any rest, the kid found a stray twig on the ground by his bed-mat and slid it under his iron handcuffs, using it to scratch and soothe the swollen skin underneath while he tried not to cry. They'd take them off if he'd stop running away, he knew, but how could he.... how could he just stay in a hell like this....

All the same, there was no point in running if you didn't have a horse. And he couldn't even steal a horse because his legs were chained two feet apart and the sound spooked the animals even in their sleep. There weren't any forests for miles from what Hanzo knew of their surroundings. He'd have to just wait... and work.... and hope that someday the railroad might pass through some woods he could melt into. Maybe by then he would be thin enough to slip out of his shackles. As he rose at dawn the next day to the sound of harsh yelling and the crack of whips, it was the only thing he could hope for. Trees and near-starvation.

For Panzersoldat~

It wasn't the first time she'd visited his quarters, but this time, when she let herself in the huge guilded doors, she looked less like a soldier awaiting the command of her officer and more like a child looking guilty over something they had broken that afternoon.

It was her fault.
She'd been stupid.
She'd overstepped her boundaries by a wide mile, and.....

She had kissed him.

The King of Eichenwalde.

To be honest, she'd thought him still asleep (not that that made it better- in fact that was probably worse) under the soporific effects of the localized anesthesia she'd given him for the injury he'd sustained last night when he'd fought the Reaper away from the castle steps, earning a dagger in his side. After healing the could-have-been-lethal wound from the inside out and stitching him up, the Alchemist-medic had leaned in to kiss him, grateful beyond words that he would live, while he was still unconscious.

Or so she thought. It seemed that even with the generous estimations she had made (given his giant stature), she still hadn't used enough anesthetic to keep him out cold as long as she thought she could. And so, he woke to find her with her mouth pressed sweetly against his own heavenly, soft lips.....

Realizing her mistake the moment she pulled away to see his blue gaze staring up at her- very much awake- she had run, embarrassed to the point of mortified. Only to be summoned to his quarters later that day. And her options were to either face what she'd done and its consequences- or flee like a coward. And she'd already fled once and that was once more than she'd ever run from anything in her life.

She was no coward.

So there she stood before him, her spine straight as a rod. "You wanted to see me, Your Excellency."

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