Chapter Text
Cold suffused through Time’s body.
Open the relationship? What did that mean? No. No. He didn’t want to do that. He didn’t want Tay to be with anyone else.
He shuddered, his scalp tingling where Tay’s hands pulled at his hair. It wasn’t forceful enough to hurt, but it was menacing nonetheless, a constant threat that it could. Tay, his sweet Tay, was looking down at him with the intent to hurt him.
He deserved it. He knew he did. He was a good for nothing, someone to look down upon. Time’s father’s words rang in his head, over and over. You are good for only one thing, may as well put it to good use.
He hadn’t wanted to be this way, he hadn’t wanted it at all. This world they had fallen into was a cold hard one, and Tay had been his only escape.
He had struggled hard against his binds, but his father had been stronger. His greedy, selfish father, who wanted in with the head mafias, one way or another. But being included required connections, and money. Time’s family did not have the first, and not enough of the second. What they had was a beautiful son who also happened to be gay.
“You piece of shit,” his father had sneered at him. “My only son, turned into a faggot!” He had stalked through the room, throwing things across it and at Time. He had beat Time, had him dragged out and left to heal on his own within his quarters.
He had been so young, a mere fifteen. He hadn’t known then how to defend himself, always the apple of his father’s eye until the moment he had been forced to come out. He had wept for the first time in a long time, hurt at his father’s treatment of him. But above all, he had been afraid. His fear had been justified with the events thereafter.
Soon, they had come for him again, and thrown him into a sumptuous guest room. He had been stripped of his clothes, tied to a bed, and left. What had followed had been the most horrific experience to Time. It left him shattered and broken beyond belief. There had been no one to hear his cries, speak on his behalf.
That night, Time’s father had acquired the coveted connection.
Time had no one to turn to. In one fell swoop, his world had crumbled around him. The person meant to keep him safe had sold him to the highest bidder, and would continue to do so as long as he was worth something.
The nights dragged on, the horrors continued. Clammy hands that pawed at him, mouths that stank, and pain, pain, so much pain.
Time no longer cried. No one heard him, and if someone did, no one came to his rescue. There was no longer any need for bindings, for a mouthguard. He didn’t run away, he no longer begged. He was a deadened version of himself. It was during another night of humiliation that something sparked within him.
That night’s guest, besides having a disgusting inclination towards pedophilia, had taken to voyeurism. Another male had been brought, older than Time, but not much. His frame was that of a teenager, but his face belied his age; definitely an adult.
This other man fawned and smiled at their guest, talking sweetly in his ear, hands fluttering delicately. The guest had been charmed, and smiled beatifically back. When the young man moved towards Time, he could feel himself shaking, wondering if he was supposed to please two men at once.
The young man had looked at Time with sadness, sensing his fear, feeling the tremors. He had softly caressed Time’s face, and leaning in had whispered two words- “It’s okay.”
Time gulped back tears. No one had bothered to look onto his well being, nor had bothered to ask how he was doing. The friends he’d thought he had, were non-existent. His father, no better than a pimp. He had no mother, no other family. No one to turn to. For the first time since his coming out, he was comforted.
It was ludicrous to feel safe in this place, in this time while being leered at, but he was. It didn’t stop nor delay the assault, but for once, Time had not cowered. The other man had been gentle, easing Time into their activity, offering his own body instead of taking Time. It was fortuitous that the geezer did no more than watch, preferring to let the young men play as he touched his own self.
It was disgusting, and Time had a hard time making himself take the other man, but had been brought to hardness, and then climax. Shame had followed, as he had not felt pleasure until then, always being the one to be taken, feeling nothing but pain. He found it humiliating to find pleasure in it now. Was he as horrible as the men that had forced themselves upon him?
Their guest had left, and Time waited with bated breath until he was sure he was truly gone, to get up and gather his clothes.
“You can call me Chai,” the other man had said. He looked Time over, eyes taking in every detail. “You are not used to this, are you?”
Time had remained silent.
“Who sold you?”
The question slammed into Time. Sold. He had been sold. “My pa,” he croaked.
“Ah,” Chai breathed in pity.
Time hurried to put on his clothes, wanting to run. He stalled as a hand landed on his shoulder. He had not noticed when the other male had gotten up. “You know..it's not over,” Chai said reassuringly, eyes full of compassion. “You still have choices. Whether you stay here or not, you can still choose how it happens. You write how the story will go.”
Time had been shocked into realization. Just when he had thought it was over, life came at him to tell him it was not.
After that night, he learned more tricks. His vibrant demeanor never returned, but instead it was replaced with a braggadocio, a bitterness he encloaked himself with. He learned that showing confidence deterred glances and unruly hands. He began to work out, hardening his body, promising himself to never be at the mercy of anyone’s fists or under anyone else's body. His knowledge was further expanded by Chai, who returned often after that night. They became companions, working together to avoid the lust of their guests.
“Be the narrator of your story,” Chai would say when it became too much.
His compliance earned him more freedoms, and soon, he was moved to a different school. He had no friends there, but his father had gleefully told him he would be rubbing elbows with the sons of important men. “Connections,” he often crowed.
Tay had been a ray of light in his otherwise dark world. He’d arrived when Time had least expected it, but needed him most.. So sweet, so kind, so small…everything so unlike him. Untainted. When Tay had come out, Time had been so afraid for him. Afraid he would be hurt, humiliated. But he’d had nothing to worry about; Tay’s family was not like his. Tay had prestige, money, and a father who loved him unconditionally.
Kinn had joined them not shortly after, and the three became inseparable. It was only when Kinn had shown an interest in Tay as something more than friends that Time had come to realize he too had fallen. Fear ran through him to think he would lose Tay, lose Kinn.
Be the narrator of your story.
And his story included Tay in it.
Tay had not rejected his confession, and his elation had been insurmountable. The acceptance of Tay’s father had cooled whatever protests Time’s father would have had. His and Tay’s relationship had flourished, and Kinn remained their friend.
Though the relationship had grown, his and his father’s had not. His father still had a tight rein on Time, demanding he bring in allies. And though Time tried, his father often overruled him. The scared fifteen year old returned, and he had a difficult time going against his father’s wishes.
Chai was long gone, but he had taught Time a thing or two. Time no longer offered his own body, instead bringing in professionals to spend the night. While these men would often start the night on Time’s arm, they were aware they needed to end it on the guest’s bed. They used their wiles on the men, Time sometimes staying to ensure no one was hurt, though he never participated. “I like to watch,” he said as an excuse. Nights like those were exhausting, playing the part of playboy, while attempting to keep his distaste to himself.
It was all dispelled upon his return home, to always find Tay there, waiting with love in his eyes.
Yet, now those eyes had been turned away from him. They held no anger, no love. They no longer looked at him.
As he looked up at Tay now, panic filled his heart. He couldn’t lose Tay. He couldn’t. He was the narrator of his story. So why was his story falling apart?
He was always given half choices, made to make a decision between the lesser of two evils. He didn’t wish to accept Tay’s proposal, but not accepting meant he chose to lose him. That was not an option.
“If that is what you want, I will do it.”
Shock ran through Tay at the acquiesce.
He hadn’t expected Time to agree. He had said it out of spite, in an effort to hurt Time just a tiny bit of the hurt he always caused Tay. He’d expected anger, defiance. Not this.
His fingers loosened the hold he had on Time, and he stepped back. Time lurched forward, clutching desperately back at his waist. “I’ll do it,” he begged into his stomach. “I will. Whatever you want, I will do. I will accept anything. Just don’t leave me,” he begged over and over.
Tay swallowed, once again confused. He couldn’t handle this anymore. Time’s arms around him suffocated him, caged him in, and all he wished to do was run away. He struggled out of Time’s hold, and without a word, he turned and swiftly left the room.
Time was left still on his knees, long ago having gone numb. He didn’t know if this was a rejection. He only knew he had meant it with all his heart. If it was possible, he would do it for Tay. Hunching down into the ground, he let his tears flow, the silence of the room enveloping him.