Episode 4 #3
Rei said nothing but he got up and fetched the medication and lube.
Lisa was quiet and still during the undignified process.
Rei went to the bathroom and washed his hands.
He made a note of the time and fetched the second bag of saline that Sevastyan had indicated would be used next.
He had to stand on the bed over Lisa’s head to hook it up, but at least Lisa was lucid and held still.
There were a few emergency skills Sevastyan had insisted he learn over the years.
IV’s, blood transfusions, and basic medications like painkillers, stimulants, and wound care had been part of them.
“Cold.” Lisa blinked at his arm.
“You have a fever.” Rei helped Lisa settle between his legs again, offering a little warmth. “You’re so warm everything feels cold. At least it’s better than before.”
“How bad was it?”
“Almost thirty-nine degrees Celsius.”
Lisa grunted. “I’ve had worse. I think.”
Rei mimed slapping him on the shoulder. Lisa pulled a half smile.
Rei
Sevastyan woke a little later but didn’t get up. Rei handed him his phone. Lisa watched him from where he still lay between Rei’s legs. “I’ll be fine, soon,” he said. “Please don’t bother Master Alexi.”
Sevastyan’s eyes moved to Lisa and stayed there for a long moment. “Your master should know how you are.”
Lisa stared back.
“It doesn’t make a difference,” Sevastyan sighed. “You can’t travel in this state. You’re here for the foreseeable future.”
With the help of Zofran for the nausea, Lisa was able to keep warm water down and then a cup of water with a little honey inside.
He didn’t throw up his medication at midnight when Sevastyan was willing to let him try to take it in oral form.
He was still warm, but the fever had reduced significantly.
Rei stole a moment in the kitchen by himself and ate a stale croissant, eyes closed, letting the dry butter and pastry flakes coat the top of his mouth.
The world was dark and everyone else was asleep, but he wanted to stay here, in the silence and the darkness, and simply exist.
Sevastyan
Morning came with the smell of sweat, illness, and the acrid digital smoke of phone calls.
Sevastyan rolled out of bed with phone in hand and shuffled to the living room in nothing but a pair of sweats—his last pair, as his second and third had been sacrificed for Lisa.
He put the phone to his ear and grunted. “Speaking.”
The person on the other end was not one of his usual contacts, but they weren’t unknown. He’d interfaced with them once or twice when doing business with the Californian arm of the Merchari. They started speaking in Spanish.
Sevastyan sank down on the couch and put a hand over his eyes. “English, please.”
“Sorry.” The man on the other end switched. He spoke English like a Filipino. “Last time we met was in Mexico.”
“Si, but my Spanish isn’t good. Please repeat.
“Bak Sahyuk was just arrested by United States Border Patrol.”
Fuck. On some level he was pleased with the news but also . . .fuck. No wonder the guy’s second was shivering in his boots.
“I’m not linked to him.”
“In his last brief he was informed about your operation in Chicago.”
“That should have been need to know.” Sevastyan stood up. This was a security breach. His assignment was straight from the Yadro. The Californian region had no reason to know about his movements.
The guy on the other end of the phone swallowed. “I know. This is . . . how do I say . . . a courtesy call. Off record.”
Sevastyan rubbed his hands over his eyes and tried to think of why this man he barely knew was sticking his neck out.
“How many more security breaches might we have, besides the fact that Bak is the West Coast boss?”
“A few.” The man hesitated. “I’m not in California right now. My assignment to Bak by the Yadro was . . . contentious.”
“Where are you now?”
“Bolivia.”
Sevastyan rubbed his forehead. “Ja, okay. Right. So, who do you trust on the ground?” The unsaid, Who’s loyal to the Yadro and the Merchari? hung in the air.
“Bak Sahyuk has . . . privileges. And powerful patrons,” the man said. My assignment was a compromise among people higher up than me.”
“How much do you think Bak is going to talk?”
“Maybe not much? I’ve dispatched his lawyer and a representative of his business. They are trying to meet with him now.”
Sevastyan stood and woke Rei’s computer, typing passwords one-handed and getting into his database to look up Bak Sahyuk.
He hadn’t been a major figure on Sevastyan’s radar beyond being in the database and the necessary amount of criminal evidence being collected.
Sevastyan scanned Rei’s meticulous notes: Bak Sahyuk was forty-three years old.
He had a Korean wife and two daughters who were both in their teens.
The wife did not work but served as a socialite for her husband.
The daughters were both United States citizens by birth, but their parents were in the United States on green cards, the wife’s linked to her husband’s.
Within the Merchari, Bak Sahyuk specialized in business intelligence and sabotage.
He also oversaw a good amount of trafficking in drugs and humans, besides being the West Coast boss.
“Is there any relation between Bak Gyeong and Bak Sahyuk?” Sevastyan questioned, the back of his brain tingling. Bak was one of the most common family names for people of Korean descent. Just sharing the name meant nothing.
The man on the other end of the phone hesitated too long. When he did speak, it was carefully. “I’ve never inquired about Bak Sahyuk’s family relations.
Except family relations were everything. Especially in crime. Sevastyan narrowed his eyes.
“It is possible that Bak Sahyuk had incriminating evidence on him for at least two operations here,” the man on the other end of the phone went on after a pause. “It’s said you prefer cleaning house over letting fabric unravel.”
“It’s best to keep the street clean, yes,” Sevastyan responded.
“Your assistance may be useful.”
“My assignment is from the Yadro. I can’t leave Chicago unless released.”
“But perhaps you would be willing.”
“Arrangements could possibly be made.”
“Thank you.” The man hung up.
Sevastyan slumped back against the couch. Bak Sahyuk had terrible timing. But then again, perhaps it was the entire situation that was moving in sync. Coincidences were rare. Usually there was an invisible string. So, what was the string?
Rei stumbled out of the bedroom beautifully bare and tousled from sleep. Sevastyan opened his arms and beckoned him over. His slave came willingly, sliding his knees onto the cushions on either side of Sevastyan’s thighs and sitting his rear on Sevastyan’s knees. “Morning, master.”
“Morning, precious.” Sevastyan nuzzled Rei’s nose, closing his eyes and letting himself sink into the moment of just him and his slave. “We have a puzzle to solve.”
Rei drew back a little. “Master?”
“Let’s do your discipline now.” He nibbled on the side of Rei’s jaw and drew him close.
Rei groaned softly and leaned into Sevastyan, accepting the ravishment. Sevastyan tapped his fingers against Rei’s bare ass. “Over my knees, little one. This won’t be long.”
His slave moved gracefully, rearranging himself chest down against the couch cushions, his rear raised at a perfect spanking angle over Sevastyan’s thighs.
One leg fell open, towards the floor, giving the option to strike at Rei’s cleft or balls if Sevastyan chose.
It was Rei’s role to make the options readily available and Sevastyan’s to choose.
Sevastyan stroked his hand over Rei’s legs, feeling the weight of Rei’s body.
He knew what Rei had felt like once—tight, scared, clinging to his courage.
Rei, now, was heavy, soft, and his head was turned towards the back of the couch, his attention on Sevastyan but his demeanor waiting and unafraid.
The weight of all that trust tugged on Sevastyan’s shoulders. Even though he worked every day to be worthy of it, there were things he could never make up for. Rei was the angel who forgave him, again and again. And he was the devil who had no right but continued taking.
He dragged his finger down the valley of Rei’s ass and weighed Rei’s balls in his palm, jiggling them lightly.
Rei’s body became even heavier as he worked to not react, to just give.
Sevastyan released his balls gently, letting them hang free again, and lightly slapped one of Rei’s thighs.
He worked his way up to his ass and then went harder, spanking Rei for real, bringing pink to the surface of his golden skin.
Ten hard strikes. That was all. This was discipline and connection.
He counted them out in his head, measuring each into the deep tissue of Rei’s buttocks, avoiding the base of his spine and the sides where bones or kidneys could be injured.
Rei’s breath changed and one of his hands gripped the side of the couch cushion, but that was all he moved.
Accepting. Rei was always accepting. Somewhere inside him there had to be an ocean of everything he had swallowed, because no one could just absorb everything. And yet Rei seemed capable. From a gun in his throat to Sevastyan’s cock in his ass, he was a vastness that swallowed Sevastyan’s heat.
It almost made him want to tear Rei apart and find the plug inside him, the one that would let things run out.
But instead, he hauled Rei up with both hands and wrapped him in a hug, breaking protocol entirely.
If he were a proper master, if he followed Alexi’s training, he should have let Rei lie there and absorb the experience, let him be on display, and then ordered him to his knees to either suck cock or sit in reverence.
That was asking too much of Sevastyan this morning. He needed more. He needed Rei’s brightness and his wit, and perhaps even his anger, though he’d rarely seen it. There was only one thing that reliably brought that to the surface.
But today would be one of those days.