Onyx
Why did he of all people need tutoring? He didn’t need to know how to use algebra or wax poetic about great literature.
He was a goddamn sex slave, and the only lessons he wanted were the ones he had with Shane.
He spoke the language of violence, and he spoke it well, and the preliminary interviews with potential tutors of other subjects had left him in a shitty mood.
Whether they’d come because of the novelty of potentially teaching the Rayne slave or the money, it didn’t matter. As soon as they realized just how little he knew, they’d turned condescending, and he’d wanted nothing more than to punch them all in their smug faces.
He’d been eleven during the takeover. Eleven. Then he’d spent the next ten years training to learn how to kill supes. Everything he’d learned at school, he’d long since forgotten, and that hadn’t included the sort of classical training Dominic seemed keen on him learning.
He hated it.
He hated the tutors, he hated the way they made him feel, and most of all, he hated Dominic for making him feel stupid.
That wasn’t anything new; he was used to hating Dominic, even if he wasn’t used to the reason being so utterly mundane.
Well. Sort of.
Maybe Dominic had just gotten tired of Onyx not understanding his obscure references. Or maybe he was just curious to find out how stupid Onyx really was. Maybe if he’d had a normal life, he would’ve been smarter.
But he wasn’t.
Even sitting on the floor by Dominic’s feet with music or a book was better than participating in an initial “evaluation” by someone who saw him as lesser.
“I’m not doing this again,” Onyx announced to Dominic at the end of the third day. “You’re insane, which we already knew, but this only makes you seem more insane. This isn’t going to work.”
Whatever this was.
Dominic put down the pen that he was using to mark up a series of documents and glanced up at Onyx with an arched eyebrow. “What isn’t going to work?” he asked mildly.
“This bullshit with the teachers,” Onyx replied sullenly. “I don’t need to learn anything they’re trying to teach me. I’m just here for you to use; why do I need to know history and whatever for that?” He made a face. “It’s like you’re trying to torture me.”
Not that this was worse than what Dominic had done in the past, but even so. He didn’t like it.
Dominic’s lips twitched in slight amusement. “More torturous than boredom?” He lifted his hand in the familiar “come here” gesture.
Onyx huffed out an aggrieved sigh, but he went closer to Dominic’s side without having to be verbally told to approach.
“Yeah,” he said. “But I mean, if you’d just let me go to the rec room, I wouldn’t have that problem either.
” He glared at Dominic. He knew that technically it was his own fault that Dominic wouldn’t leave him alone anywhere, but it was Shane’s fault that he couldn’t have the werewolf around.
Because he’d had to decide that Onyx needed to understand how lucky he was to have ended up in Dominic Bancroft’s possession. Fuck him. Fuck all of that.
Even if he wasn’t entirely wrong, these days. If the worst torment he got was to have to learn things, well…
He guessed he was lucky, a thought that continued to haunt and taunt him.
“Why are you wanting me to learn that shit, anyway?” he demanded.
Dominic turned his chair away from his desk when Onyx approached, tugging him closer by the hips when he stopped, as he always did, just beyond where Dominic wanted him to stand. “Knowledge sharpens the mind." He chuckled. “Boredom dulls it. As do endless games and entertainment.”
“Playing games and listening to books isn’t dull,” Onyx grumbled. “And it’s definitely better than dry old history books. Why should I care what happened three thousand years ago? It’s irrelevant now.”
“What are we all if not products of our history? But if not history, what would you wish to learn?” Dominic inquired.
Onyx didn’t really have to think about the answer to that question. “Magic,” he said promptly. “Even if it’s just theory, even if I can’t ever use it, I want to learn more about magic.”
Dominic made a noncommittal hum. “I could be persuaded on the topic.”
Onyx eyed Dominic. It was a stupid thing to ask, really, and he knew it; without being able to practice, he wouldn’t fully catch on. But he’d never learned much beyond the bare basics, and he craved that knowledge. He always had, even when he’d been learning scraps from Archie.
He wondered how the witch was doing. Had he gotten caught helping the rebellion? Or was he out there thriving, away from the cause that could’ve cost him everything? Onyx would never know.
“Uh-huh,” Onyx said skeptically, “and how could you be persuaded? I’m not doing anything crazy; it’s not like you’re gonna bring a magic teacher out to the warehouse and let me learn live.”
Dominic hummed again, surprising Onyx with the not entirely disagreeable noise. “I’m open to negotiation.”
Onyx’s mouth went dry.
What would he do to earn the right to use his magic? To learn how to wield it better, to use anything he learned?
Almost anything, and he hated that because it meant his mind went to places that he wasn’t entirely comfortable with. He stepped in closer to Dominic, between his legs, gingerly leaning down to press a kiss to his lips.
“This isn’t fair,” Onyx whispered against Dominic’s mouth, letting himself be drawn deeper into the kiss when the other witch pressed for more.
He wanted this so badly. He didn’t want to feel like a whore, to know that he’d give himself up for his magic, but Dominic hadn’t shut down the ideas he’d proposed.
If there was one thing he’d learned about Dominic Bancroft, it was that the witch kept his promises. He was deceptive and manipulative, but if he gave his word, he meant it. Onyx would get what he wanted.
The question, though, was what it would cost. What he wanted was insane, and he knew it.
His heart thudded wildly in his chest. He didn’t want to give up one more thing. But to have his magic…
Dominic chuckled softly. “What’s not fair about it?” he asked, amusement threaded through the words.
“I know what you want, and you know what I want,” Onyx mumbled. “And you’re fucking crazy enough to offer me the world to get me to… to…” He faltered, unable to say the words.
“Say it,” Dominic murmured, stroking Onyx’s hips with his thumbs. “What do I want from you, Onyx Rayne?”
Onyx swallowed hard. He didn’t want to say the words. He didn’t want to make any of this reality. If he said it…
He bit his lip, his eyes searching Dominic’s expression as anxiety filled him to the brim. “You want to fuck me,” he finally said. “And if I let you, you might give me what I want, too.”
He was not a whore.
He was not going to give up so much of himself, even for his magic.
His throat was dry.
Dominic continued to stroke his hips, studying Onyx’s expression every bit as much as Onyx was studying his. “I want to fuck you,” he agreed, his voice soft and encouraging. “I want to bring you pleasure, show you how good things can be.”
Onyx wasn’t sure what to make of Dominic’s tone, the way he spoke almost soothingly of something that had been so violent and painful in the past — except for when Dominic had turned his pleasure against him, and that had been equally traumatic and terrible.
Dominic hummed again. “You will pick two subjects, and magic can be one of them. And for your lessons, you will wear a plug,” he offered.
A plug. Could he do that?
Despite everything, he found himself actually considering Dominic’s offer.
Why?
Onyx knew that witches went insane without their magic. He had already cracked; was this just another facet of that? He shouldn’t have been willing to entertain any of this. Months ago, he wouldn’t have.
But that had been before.
“I want to practice,” Onyx said, not quite disagreeing even as his mind fucking screamed at him to stop. “I want to be able to try the things I’m learning.”
“You will still have the times in the warehouse with access to your magic,” Dominic pointed out. “I have already told you that you will have those. But if you want lessons in the warehouse, then that is something that we can negotiate for later.”
If he was already going to have time in the warehouse, what was the point of wearing a plug just to get magic lessons at all?
He didn’t think it was worth the humiliation.
But then, he was already suffering through the indignation — and unwanted pleasure — of having Dominic’s fingers inside of him, knowing what they were slowly but inexorably working toward.
“I’m not wearing a plug just to get magic lessons, especially if I have to do other lessons, too,” Onyx replied, shaking his head.
He was rattled, though; he’d been willing to offer more than a plug to get the chance to learn, properly learn.
Maybe part of him just wanted to get the inevitable over with — for the right price. If he could get magic lessons in the warehouse, would it be worth it? Moreover, was he ready for that? Could he even handle it if Dominic made the offer?
“Very well,” Dominic said. “Then we can discuss magic lessons at some future time. What would you like for dinner?”
Onyx stared down at Dominic, his eyes narrowing. He wasn’t ready to abandon this particular discussion just yet, but at the same time, what price was he willing to pay? “Magic lessons and the plug,” he countered. “No other lessons. You have to bribe me to take lessons, not the other way around.”
Dominic chuckled. “And what is your price to take lessons in an additional subject?”
“Not having to wear the plug,” Onyx countered. “You want me to cooperate; I want magic lessons. I don’t want the plug. Your fingers are bad enough.”
At least those — sort of — felt good, though. The plug was just humiliating even though the thought of it had his body threatening to respond uncomfortably, and he shifted restlessly from one foot to the other.