Chapter 1: The laws of this world (edited)
LunaWood wasn't a very big town. Actually, it was pretty small compared to most towns you would find on any map of the USA; had you been able to find it on the map at all. If anyone did happen to look, it would be that little greenish blue speck you would find off the coast of LA. Although, all things considered, it was but an island; a silly tourist attraction for those crossing the seas from the south. Nothing important, which was proved by the lack of said tourists every year. It was pretty sad when the whole town and the people of it depended on it. As you could tell, this meant that, while LunaWood appeared to be well kept and devoid of damages, the town was very poor despite appearance.
LunaWood was a simple, homey kind of place where there were colorful houses, white fences, neat buildings, clean streets, and a strict curfew at midnight. Most of those who, for some reason, found and chose to visit visit come from the North Ironically enough, spending little money on shops but found themselves drawn to the other, more colorful attractions the town offered, such as the small festivals that were held every year. The attractions weren't very big and extravagant. Instead, they were simple things for this simple town. While struggling to gain the attention of those that barely kept their home afloat from poverty, small businesses were able to stay alive by the inhabitants of LunaWood.
Like the toy shop owned by Dell Conagher, or the boot camp that was run by Jane Doe. The whole island was open to the world except for the forest that was located away from the entire population of the town. It was a forbidden place for many of the residents of the island, if not all besides those with the proper authority. Only those permitted were allowed there, be they high praised citizens, medical officials, or the military. In other words, no papers, no entry to the forest. Which was just fine since no one actually wanted to go there, knowing what it was used for, they stayed clear away from the mass of vegetation that took over half the island. That was where all the unwanted were sent, those who were a taint to their way of life for simply possessing two genders. The creature, as they were referred as, were called Inservire or Submissives. But that was only if they survived; those who didn't, died as infants since that's where they were sent when they were discovered. It was a mystery to everyone, how those....CREATURES, were able to survive and grow, but many suspect the grown Inservires raise the young left to die by the town.
Inservire were considered a curse and should one be born to your family, you would be doomed or shamed. Killing them or abandoning them were the only ways that a family could redeem themselves of this sin and were cleansed, so said the town's Prophet. Unlike most places, even though LunaWood had a Mayor, the town was ruled by their church and what the Prophet said, then it was so. For most families, it was a relief each time that a child was born normal, especially the most respected families, like Misha's. Being born into a wealthy and Highly regarded family, the Russian never felt the need to worry about anything. Not only did his status keep him in the good books of the Prophet, but his size and voice kept anyone from trying to pick a fight with him; not that anyone would, him being that of a large size with a booming, rumbling voice to match.
He lived with his mother and three sisters; father having been killed long ago. With being the oldest child, Misha was left to care for his family and the company he worked in to support them. While they were fairly well off, especially when you allign him with the rest of the citizens of the small town, their money could only go so far. But work didn't take as much of his time as many thought it had. When he had free time, Misha spent those moments with his family, making sure they could travel and enjoy themselves as much as they wished. However, One of the few things that separated him from his family was that he liked to stay on the island while his mother and four sisters traveled the world. Misha honestly would rather stay in one place and being the only man of his family with his father buried on the hill of the graveyard, he felt protective of his home, which also meant, he would be guarding the house while his family traveled with their bodyguards, of his own free will.
Stretched out on the lawn chair that sat on the neatly trimmed lawn of the humongous mansion he had called home, Misha yawned, pressing a hand to cover his mouth until said yawn was over. Hand falling to rest on his gut, he gave his lips a tired slap as he blinked his eyes open to free them of sleep from his recent nap, ignoring the sound of chattering children and teens that passed by outside his property. The Demidovsky Mansion, being one of three, was the one closest to the local high school and was often gawked at by many of the tourists and Native children that had been mentioned earlier. It was a common enough sight and hadn't bothered him or his family in the slightest, so they hadn't bothered to do anything about it. Yawning once more, Misha covered his mouth again as he rested his other arm behind his head, enjoying the warm tropical sun against his skin. As a cool breeze blew by, rattling the trees and carrying the sweet sent of peaches that Mrs. Benny harvested to his nose, the man could keep the smile that crept to his face off. As he lay there with his mind usually a blank, he allowed one thought to enter his mind as his hand dropped to his belly.
"Nothing could ruin this day." He found himself musing mentally with a smile on his face. It had been relaxing to lounge about and do nothing. One of the few things he normally would be able to do on any of his days off. If it hadn't been work, then it was his family. And since they were on their trip, he could be as lazy as he wished.
"Yo, tons of fun!"
Or at least for half the day.
"Or maybe Scott can." Misha growled mutely to himself, responding to his own earlier mental statement and opened his eyes, spotting the said teenager, leaning against the white fence nearby; a baseball bat resting on the boy's shoulder as he gripped the bat with one hand and a baseball in the other that lay on the fence between the pickets. On his face, Scott had a mischievous grin on his face. "Da?" Misha called dully to the boy who had disturbed him. Not happy in the slightest at having his relaxation ruined by the younger man, he gave a discontented groan. The boy had the nerve to chuckle when he noticed the annoyance in the giant's voice and stood up straight, tossing the ball in the air and catching it casually.
"You hear about the party that Tez is throwing?" Scott questioned, not ceasing in his movements. Groaning, Misha rubbed his hand over his face. He knew where this was going and he wasn't sure if he wanted to partake in any festivity that someone was having, especially not Tez. No offence to the kid but the young man was important to the people of the island and him doing something like this was reckless. Tez was one of the teens that went to Scott's high school with him and was known for the trouble he causes people. "He's throwing it while his parents are away and everyone's invited." Scott continued, finally catching his ball for the last time, giving Misha a knowing sideways glance. "You going?"
Misha frowned, standing up after a while of staring the boy down; figuring that Scott wasn't going to back off with a simple look. "нет." He answered as he folded the chair up and tossed it over his shoulder, convinced that whatever time he could manage for himself, was officially over. Noticing his friends behavior, Scott pumped his fist with a grin with a gleeful hiss escaping through his teeth. "Great! So when should I pick you up?"
"It means 'no'." Misha stated bluntly, giving an irritated stare to the boy momentarily. Seeing the smile fall from Scotts face, made him feel slightly guilty about his answer. Scott had few friends and a boy his age should be doing stupid things like this, with other kids his age. Unfortunately for both of them, Scott was considered a loser, and Misha was all he had. Normally, this wouldn't really be a problem for either of them. Misha enjoyed parties well enough but they were mostly to get him away from home and to keep an eye on his younger friend so nothing happened to him. But Misha had made up his mind that he wasn't going to go to anymore parties for a while after bailing Scott out of jail last time. Turning, he walked to the shed that sat to the side of the house. As he walked on, he heard an extra pair of hurried steps behind him.
"You know you are not allowed on the lawn. Blair just had the gardener cut it and would not be happy to have you on it." opening the shed, he stepped inside and sat the chair in it's respectful place. Scott scoffed from the doorway, brushing some imaginary dirt off his shoulder, swaying cockily. "Oh, yeah. What's that old Brit gonna do? Send that dog on me again? Not a chance." Misha snorted as he stood up and turned to the boy who blocked his exit.
"Just because family took Vasha with them doesn't mean that Blair can not send you off forcefully." The Giant supplied, crossing his arms, waiting for the teen to get the hint and move.
Waving his hand, he shooed the notion away like one would a fly and smirked, knowing he had the giant trapped. "So why won't you go to the party? It's the biggest thing of the year. Everyone will be there!"
"Every teenager you mean. I am too old to be going to a party thrown by children." Shoving his way past the boy, he headed for the mansion when Scott jumped in front of him again, blocking his path. No longer did he have that arrogant smirk, instead, he had on a pitiful and beaten frown. "C'mon man. You've been cooped up here for days and you need to get out more." The boy looked down at his feet. "Plus, you're my best friend. It would really mean much to me if you could be there."
If there was anything that could get Misha's blood boiling and nose flaring was when Scott pulled at his guilt that the boy clearly knew he had when he would reject him and his crazy ideas. It didn't help that the teen clasped his two hands together and looked up with that hopeful smile. "Please?"
When the giant looked down at the boy with a sigh, Scott knew he had won the battle. And in such, he gave a cheer.
Chapter 2: Getting Ready
Chapter two is longer and has slightly dark themes if you squint.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
There were few stores that one could go to for the basic essentials that they needed, such as food, and toiletries. The closest one around that Misha even bothered to go to was often where one heard most of the gossip going around the island. Typically, he tended to drown out the chattering of clucking females until they became nothing but white noise while he pondered if he should have chicken or steak for dinner, both of which the cook made to taste excellent. However, the incident regarding Scott had his mind in a tizzy. The thought of going to the social gathering of the local teenagers at the Mayor's house even, was enough to make his head spin. He wasn't sure why he was hesitant to go. A few years ago, he would have normally leapt at the chance to go to a party such as that. Shaking his head, Misha willed those thoughts away as he wondered aimlessly around the store, occasionally picking things off their shelf and investigating them before placing them back where he had grabbed them. As he did so, people seemed to brush past him, not even making the move to look at him for fear of encouraging his wrath as last years gossip had stated. Stopping at an isle of cereal, he grabbed a box to inspect it when he heard two women from further down the isle, whispering loudly to each other.
“Did you hear? Miranda finally gave birth.” Clucked the first woman, who was wearing bright red clothing. Typically, the chattering that loitered around every inch of town didn't interest Misha much. Of course, everyone knew about the impending birth of Miranda Closser's infant. It was the biggest news to most people since the massive storm two years ago. The second woman gasped in delight as she held a hand to her mouth and bounced her toddler on her hip. “Oh really? Did she name it yet?” The second woman questioned happily, her child speaking incoherently to herself. There was a snort from the first woman and an air of disgust clouded around her and laced her words with it's poison. "Hardly. It was an inservire." The second woman gasped once again as she held her toddler closer to her.
"What did she do with the beast?" Inquired the second woman, hand to her mouth in shock. Woman number one huffed. "What else?" She chirped sadistically. "It was sent into the forest to be with the other beasts there." She tutted bitterly.
"Poor, Miranda." Pitied Woman number two. "To have fallen to such a state. At least she's doing fine now."
"Indeed." The first woman chirped again. "She was more than willing to rid herself of the thing. Just the other day, I heard her talking about it with her husband. He was quite pleased himself. They're trying for another child. A normal child."
Disgusted, Misha set the box back on the shelf and continued on, brushing passed the women lightly as he did so; not content with hearing anymore of the women's chatter. He wasn't really sure why he was in the store. There was nothing he really needed. Walking down the candy isle with children running passed him in a game of tag with their mothers yelling for them to stop and fathers laughing at the behavior, he scanned through the selection on the shelves and stopped at the row of gummy candy. Crossing his arms, he stared, feeling his mouth water at the sugary treats that sat in their own individual packages and hung on the wall of the shelves. Very few knew that Misha had a love for gummy candy, and he rather liked that information to stay that way.
Giving in, he grabbed a packet of blue gummy sharks, grinning to himself as he looked the packet over, making sure that there was no damage; an experience that he never hoped to relive when he found a bag of gummies with chewed pot stuck inside. There was a light bump on his leg, snapping his attention from the bag in his hand and to a little boy around three who had apparently ran into him by mistake. The boy sat there on the floor as if surprised he had hit something while running around. It wasn't until the boy looked up to meet Misha's eyes did he finally stand up and run off to his mother in fear that the giant "monster" could get him. Misha just rolled his eyes as the boys mother tutted at him and wagged a finger as if lecturing him on manners. But he ignored this. Misha had found that there was a lot that he had to ignore from his time living in LunaWood.
Paying for his treat, Misha wasted no time in leaving the store and chose to drive to the park nearby where he can enjoy his candy in peace. The park was relatively empty at this time which was one of the things that Misha was grateful for. No one to be there to gawk at him or try to converse with him. Just him sitting on a bench that had trees and bushes nearby it as he enjoyed his snack, or he would if the packet would open. Tugging on the tough plastic, he couldn't hide the scowl or the soft growl that left his mouth; bringing the packet to his teeth and tearing it open.
"Misha!" The giant groaned, hearing the voice of Scott call out to him from where he stood a few yards away as he waved. Seeing that he had the other man's attention, Scott jogged over to where Misha sat and plopped down right beside him just as Misha took the leftover plastic from his mouth from tearing the bag. "What do you want, Scott?" He asked, not even looking to the boy as he asked. Instead, he chose to pull out a gummy shark and eating it. He loved the blueberry taste in his mouth.
The teen frowned and crossed his leg over his other, and trowing his arm over the back of the wooden bench. "Sure," quipped the boy, looking away. "Don't sound so ecstatic to see me or nothin'." He faced the larger man once again. "The party is at ten. When do ya' want me to pick you up? You never answered."
"Was busy." Misha answered, eating another gummy, chewing. "Had a lot to do and not a lot of time." He sighed contently, staring at the bright sun that was beginning to lower. Coughing into his arm, he brought his wrist up to his face to look at his watch. 6:30. He had time to finish his chores if he hurried. He stuffed the rest of his gummy candy into his pants pockets, praying that they don't melt before he can get them home or finish them off, and stood, brushing his hands on his jeans before walking away without so much as a farewell, something he normally did if his mind wasn't so busy. Scott looked irritated as he jumped to his feet and ran after the giant. Catching up with him, he grabbed the man's arm angrily, gaining the man's attention once again as they stopped where they stood.
"What's your deal?" Scott demanded, waving his arms out to exaggerate his anger. "You've been avoiding me all week and brushing me off. I thought we were friends." Misha felt his irritated gaze soften as he stared at the boy. What the teen had said was true. He had been avoiding him and had tried to ignore the kid everywhere he went for the past week. Problem was, Misha didn't have a clue why. It wasn't like he had a reason too. Other than his depression, the giant simply never even gave any thought to his actions. In a way, he still questioned why the boy bothered to hang around someone as old as Misha when he should be spending his time with people his own age.
The boy had a strange attachment to him, this Misha knew. It was one he knew very well. Always trying to gain the giants attention, bragging his achievements to the older man in hopes to get praise for his deeds. Looking to the Russian for advice. Scott looked up to him, probably because Misha was one of the few who people who gave him notice. If he thought about it, Misha was more of a father figure and an idle to Scott than anyone else. Maybe the thought of all that responsibility of altering the future of another person, be it intentional or not, frightened him. Looking down at Scott's hurt expression, it all probably explained why he always invited the giant to places with him. Rubbing his face to ease his tiredness, he gave a weak, apologetic smile. "I am sorry, Scott." The boy's expression did not change. "I admit I am avoiding you. But it's not because of you or anything you did." A spark of curiosity lit in the boy's eyes as he lowered his arms. "Then why do ya do it?"
That was a question that the giant could not answer. Instead, Misha forced a smile and ruffled the teen's hair laughing as the boy objected and shoved his large arm away to fix his hair. "Is nothing for one so young to worry about. Leave this man to deal with his own problems." Misha chuckled and wrapped an arm around the boy's thin shoulders. "How about we walk to the party. Is not far from my home. I have bills I need to pay and drop off important paperwork to Dell's before I do anything."
"Dell?" the youth probed, no longer angry, as they walked side by side out of the park and to Misha's large red SUV. Casually hopping into the passenger seat of the vehicle while Misha got in the driver's side, he buckled after slamming the door closed. "What could you possibly need to do at the toy maker's?" Putting his key in the ignition and starting the engine, Misha carefully pulled out of the parking lot and out onto the road, heading the direction of Dell's.
"Is no business of mine. The Mayor had asked me to give them to him. I never had time until now." The youth snorted at this. "Not even when you were lounging on your lawn earlier?" the Russian chortled lightly as he stopped at a stoplight. "Especially then. I have to rest too. Spent all morning painting my room."
Scott rolled his eyes, resting his head on his hand as it was propped on the arm rest. "Don't you have servants to do that for you?" he questioned, glancing over at the giant expectantly. Misha hummed. "Yes but it is my room. Would be lazy for me to have them do it when I have time." The adolescent made no comment to that, finding that logic rater dull but subconsciously storing that information away. "Anyway," The older man continued. "Won't your mother worry about you being away at the party today?" He questioned, driving again when the light changed green and making a turn.
"Nah." Retorted Scott; lifting his head from his hand and slouching in his seat, gripping the seat belt tightly in his hands. "She's got a double shift today and then she's meeting with this French dude called Beal Lebeau or whatever." The boy sighed, practically strangling the seat belt by now but remained silent. "You are..." Hesitated Misha, not taking his eyes off the road. "Okay with this?" Scott snorted lightly. "No." He bit bitterly. "I hate the guy. But this is my ma I'm talking about here." He groaned sadly, letting his hands drop to his sides in defeat. "What can I do? Nothing." There was a pause. "I asked her a few times to try to go out with you but she just laughed and pinched my cheek like I was being cute. And said that it wouldn't work out."
Misha felt the blood rush to his face and felt the warmth that came with it. "Would not be the best move." he agreed. "Neither one of us would have been happy." Pulling into Dell's parking lot. The teen sighed. "I know." He said glumly, unbuckling and sliding out of the car as Misha did. Rounding the other side of the vehicle, he walked by the giant's side once again with his arms crossed and pouting.
The ringing of the little bell that Dell had on his door, alerted the Texan to his two visitors as he came out from the back room, wiping his hands on an oil stained rag. The American never failed to amuse Misha, mostly because of his height. Dell Conagher was smaller than most men that the giant had ever seen, standing around 5'8, while the Russian himself was 6'5. His amusement faded when he saw the bloody bandage wrapped around the man's head while the American tried to hide it with his helmet as his goggles hung around his neck instead of on his eyes like they normally were. Dell, spotting them and ignoring Misha's frown, grinned cheerfully and set his rag on a nearby counter and held his arms out wide. "Howdy, Fellas. Was just about to close up. Somethin' you need before I do? Look a bit too old for toys though."
It was a joke of course. The smaller man knew why they had come. Pulling out an envelop from his back pocket, he held it out to the Texan, whose smile wavered as he took it and opened it. "Is a payment." Misha stated sadly as he watched Dell's eyes scan over the paper, smile long replaced by a troubled frown. "The Mayor states that the bank want's their money." Scott remained quiet, looking between the two men with worry written all over him; his eyes lingering on the Texan.
"Ah," Dell scoffed lightly and put the paperwork and envelop in the front of his overalls. "I get one or two of these a year. The bank'll get their money. Just that, not everyone is buying my things, not since the IRC raided around here when there was rumors of a inservire prowling around here."
"IRC?" Scott piped in, looking to Misha to supply him with the answer but was instead, ignored. "This is different, my friend." His face was solemn and his voice was sorrowful. Dell noticed and sat on his work stood, complete attention focused on the giant who stepped further into the shop and up to the American to rest his hand on the smaller man's shoulder. "You only have a month to pay back all the money." Misha swallowed. "Otherwise the bank will repossess this place. No exceptions. I am sorry." And it was true. He was sorry. Sorry he ever had to give that letter to Dell. Sorry that he had to see the heartbroken look on his face. Sorry that he had to be the one to break it to him. It was like a pin had dropped in this dead silence. Despite his expression, Misha could tell that the man was thinking.
"What am I going to tell Jane?" He asked, more or less to himself than to anybody else. "I can't make three million dollars in a month!" He stood up from his stood and was now pacing the building. "I barely make a few thousand as it is and I need to pay three million in a single month?" He removed his helmet and rubbed his head, being gentle on the bandages. "I..." Dell faced them again, with watering eyes. "I need to be alone now." Then he turned and went back into the back room he had come from. Without a word, Misha and Scott left the building and returned to the car.
It wasn't until they were halfway down the road and away from Dell's store did Scott break the silence. "This sucks." It was quiet and Misha had to strain to hear it but the understanding was clear. "Yes." The giant agreed. Dell and Jane were lovers and spent their lifes savings to get that building. With their house right above it, when the bank takes that place, they'll be out on the street. Of course, when they were in a slightly better mood, Misha would extend the invitation for them to stay with him. He wouldn't let his friends be out on the street.
"What's the IRC?" Scott's question snapped him out of his thoughts and risked a quick look to the teen who was staring at him from the passenger seat. "It stands for the Inservire Removal Committee. They're in charge of either capturing killing any inservire that wonder into the town. Depending on how feral the inservire is, depends on how they're taken care of. Most of them get tossed in the ocean."
Scott stared at him with a defeated look. "I don't understand." As the youth looked away, Misha knew that was a sign he didn't want to talk about it anymore and took a quick glance at the clock on the dash bored. 8:55. "Is almost time for the party." He piped in, hoping to lighten the boys mood. "You still want to go?" From the corner f his eye, he saw Scott nod slowly. "Yeah. I'm still going." It was then that Misha's forced smile became slightly genuine. "Then let's stop by my home." He stated. "We can get ready there."
"What about your bills?" The giant remained silent for a moment as he looked to the depressed youth. "Bills can wait. It's time for some fun."
AHHH! My Hands hurt! Sorry, no medic yet. But we did see a few characters already
Chapter 3: With a case of Inservire
The party was boring. That was to be Misha's excuse to leave early while Scott was falling down, dog tired. But in all honestly, the party was amazing. The Mayor's home was bigger on the inside than the out and it was so nicely decorated that everyone was afraid to touch anything in case something broke. The whole building was packed from head to toe with people of different races, snacks, activities, and even a dance area right in the middle of the room with music blaring so loudly that it shook Misha's very being just by standing at the door. Servants went around the room, cleaning anything that caused a mess and even offered to gather the party goers refreshments. If only Misha had been a few years younger, he'd be able to appreciate the noise more but as he got older, it seemed like his hearing had gotten sharper. Tez, having spotting them as they entered, hopped up to them with arms wide, skin bandaged fro where he had burnt himself while experimenting with fire earlier in the week. Unfortunately, the kid's face was also covered in gaze save for his eyes so the only noise from him came as mumbles. But his body language said it all as he led them to the back of the room to where the refreshments were.
"Hey, Tez!" Scott yelled over the loud music, a can of soda in his hand that he had grabbed once they had arrived at the table of beverages, a finger in his ear to block out the noise somewhat. "I thought your ma didn't like you having parties!" At this, Tez clapped his bandaged hands lightly before mumbling and waving his hands exasperatingly before stopping and looking at them with bright green eyes. "Hey, that's awesome!" Scott answered with a thumbs up. The other teen laughed and wondered off. Amusement clearly shown on his face, Misha grinned. "What did he say?" He asked, barley able to contain a chuckle.
The boy turned and faced him, shrugging with his hands out to his sides, level with his shoulders. "Not a clue." Scott plainly stated, moving to open his can. "I just figured it had something ta do with his ma's moment of kindness." All the while he was speaking, he lightly tugged on the can's tab before yanking it hard, opening it. "Geeze!!!" He yelled as the soda fizzed out of the can and onto his hand and floor. "Did not expect that." griped the boy as he hurried to grab some napkins that sat in a neat pile on the table. Misha guffawed loudly, hand on his belly which bounced with each echoed laugh that erupted from him. Hearing this, Scott shot a glare at the giant.
"Not funny," The teen snipped angrily, doing what he could to clean the mess from his hands and the floor; a trait he had gotten from living with a low financial income along side his mother. "Ah, man. It's all sticky now." he whined and stood up fully before turning to the Russian who just grinned and patted the youths back. Facing the giant's grinning face, he scowled. "Shut up."
Misha raised his hands in mock surrender as he grabbed a can of his own. Opening it with ease, Scott marveled at the can; hidden jealousy and disappointment that Misha's can did not spew as his own did earlier. He gave a snort and turned, leaning his back against the firm table, sipping what was left of soda in his can. "No fair."
Misha just patted the boy's back lightly once again. "Life is not fair." he pointed out, taking a large gulp of his drink, grimacing at the scratchy feeling that went down his throat and the nasty taste of blue raspberry flooded his senses. This time, it was Scott's turn to laugh. "Ain't so high and mighty now, are ya?" He quipped and grinned, bringing his drink back to his lips. "Hey," He exclaimed suddenly and elbowed Misha in the ribs who was taking a slower drink. Confused, he looked down to the teen. "That chick's eyeballin' ya. Think she wants ta dance." the boy supplied and pointed with the hand that held his drink. Following Scott's finger, sure enough, there was a red haired standing there in a semi decent dress that stopped at her knees and showed a bit of cleavage. The dress hugged her frame pretty well but Misha found himself uninterested on multiple levels. The girl could have been no more than sixteen and Misha himself was in his late twenties; the notion of going out with a girl that young was something he frowned upon.
She had on the most charming smile that the giant was sure that she had. Her hands were behind her back, twiddling with the lace of her light yellow dress and tapped her heeled shoes tenderly against the ground. Knowing she had his attention, she waved. Not knowing what else to do, Misha waved back, doing what he could to looked bored as he scanned the area for those around his own age. "Is there no one over the age of eighteen here?" He muttered to himself. Scott gave a hum and scanned the room, tapping his chin lightly in thought.
"Where's DeGroot?!" A teenager called out from a crowed of people. Pushing his way passed a swarm of girls, a good sized boy that was close to Misha's built with short brown hair and a football jacket wrapped around his frame. He caught sight of Scott and Misha the second he did and a grin crept on his face as he strode over. "Yo, Snot." The teen mocked when he got close to the two of them. "Where's Tavish? He's supposed to be here, man." The name rang familiar in Misha's mind. Tavish DeGroot was a black Scottish man who owned an advertising business further in town. He was also a man that the giant could call friend, having met up in collage. He was pretty popular and was often the one to go to for help on any matter, be it his business or a campaign of any sort. The man had power, especially over the people here. But that did not stop him from joining any party that was around; much like Misha himself.
Scott growled and rounding to the taller youth, slamming his now empty can on the table, which couldn't be heard passed the music that blared all around. "First off, my name's Scott. And second, how the fuck should I know?! I'm not his keeper!" The jock wasn't pleased at being spoken to like that and took a menacing step toward Scott. Stiffening, Misha puffed himself out to warn off the jock in hopes of defusing the situation, scrutinizing them both carefully. Noticing this, the jock backed off hesitantly. "I'd watch my tongue if I were you." He growled before storming off to find others. Once the other teen was out of sight, Scott threw his hands in the air and yelled loudly, having his voice get drowned out by the music as did most sound. He whirled to Misha, a face of disbelief.
"I can't believe my own brotha' sometimes. Micheal thinks he can walk all over me!" As the youth ranted, Misha felt himself slowly relax his muscles. As they ached dully at the lack of use; it had been years since the giant had gotten into a fight or had to use his body to protect his family. Not since they left Russia. "I need some air." The boy grumbled exasperated as he held a hand to his head and rubbed his temple before leaving without another word. Stretching out his arm, the giant made to go after him when a smaller, feminine arm wrapped around his and began tugging him to the dance floor. Looking at who it was, it was the girl from earlier. She smiled sweetly at him as they reached the dance floor, surrounded by a whole swarm of other teenagers dancing in multiple ways. "Dance with me." She had said. It had not been a question; but a request. Sighing, he gave in.
Dancing had made him feel free, that he couldn't deny. But he was clumsy and the room was too little for a man of his size and stature to work with, content to be a good arms length away from the girl that had dragged him there. But he made do. As the music got more wilder and more energetic, he found himself interacting with her more with the dance. Nothing vulgar or nasty. He found himself twirling her and flipping her in the air, making them look like professionals as he did so, causing those around him to point and whisper amazed. He could tell that she was fine with this. With each twirl, each spin, each toss he gave her, she laughed with the biggest smile on her face. She felt like she could fly and he could see that. He could also see how free she must have felt, being in the air; like she could fly away and nothing could stop her. It made him feel good to give her that feeling. The feeling of flight and freedom like he used to do to his youngest sister; back before she had grown up into the respectable woman she was today. It felt like they had been dancing for an eternity rather than the measly few minutes it had actually been. As the rest of the hyped up music ended, so did the feeling of being free and flying. But it never took the smile from their faces as they faced each other.
"That was fun!" She exclaimed wildly, panting from the exercise earlier as she wiped her sweaty brow. "We should do that again sometime." Misha nodded, having a grin of his own on his face. "Another time." He agreed, taking her small hand into his larger one. "But I must find someone now." With a giggle, she waved goodby to him as he left, going off to find another dance partner; never finding one like she had just had earlier.
"He wasn't sure how long he had been looking for Scott. Worry flooding his entire being. Out of all the people he had asked, none of them knew where he had gone. It wasn't long before he spotted the familiar swaying that only alcohol could give to a person. It was just one or two people at first but the longer he stayed and hunted for Scott, the more drunken teenagers he found. It wasn't until he saw Tez standing by the door did he see Scott. The boy was standing there, completely sober and happily talking to a blonde girl nearby who giggled at his jokes. Smiling in his relief, he took a look at his watch and saw that it was already two in the morning. He had work to do the next day so he figured he had to leave about now. Stepping up to the boy, he tapped his shoulder, interrupting the conversation, seeing the funny irritating twitch in Scott's eyebrow when he was trying to be nice to the one interrupting. He smirked when he saw it was just Misha.
"I am leaving now." Informed the giant, smiling at the younger man who nodded. "Yeah, alright. I'm gonna crash here at Tez." Scott answered, looking over at Tez who clapped his hands gleefully. With this said, Misha said his goodbye and took his jacket from the closet that he had stuffed it into earlier. He wasn't much for long farewells and much rather get what he wanted said out in the open. Stepping out into the night air, he took a deep breath, closing the door behind him. The air outside felt nice in his lungs compared to the musty stench of sweat and bodies from the party. Taking his brown jacket in his hands, he tossed it over his shoulder and began to walk home, enjoying the nice cool breeze as he passed by the houses and businesses that were spread apart a decent distance, leaving small ally ways with trashcans and bin to sit in until the garbage man got them in the morning.
As he walked, Misha sang a tune quietly that he remembered from his childhood, happy that he seemed to be the only one on the streets at the moment, looking up at the starry night sky with a smile. Passing by a streetlight, he marveled at the full moon; the streetlights doing very little to brighten the areas. Step by step, he walked slowly in the direction of his residence. The party had been fun, but he didn't go to them as often anymore, starting to find them slightly boring in a way. Smiling remaining on his face, he thought back to the dance he had with the teenage girl and remembered his sisters and mother who would be back in a month or so. The thought of the upcoming month brought his mind back to Dell and Jane and he frowned. Those two had come so far in their life to get where they were today and now they had to start all over. It was a sad thought but it was the cold truth. The Mayor, Tez's mother could only do so much for the people. If she did much more and the Prophet disagreed with it, it would end the whole incident all together.
Speaking of the prophet; Misha looked to his left to the nice house that the man lived in. The Prophet was a gangly elderly man with graying skin and white hair. The man himself was tall and lanky, and often times held a sort of air of disapproval for those who disagreed with him. He was the true ruler of this town. He had a daughter of possibly around four or five, which didn't seem right considering his age.
There was a clatter to Misha's right and it brought his attention away from the house and to an alleyway just across the street and upward away from the Prophet's house. He paused for a moment, waiting to see if more noise would erupt from the area. His ears strained to hear as he stood there, eyes focused on the ally opening. Sure enough, the clattering of metal trashcans and broken glass filled the air, followed by whimpering of what sounded to be a man. He should have walked away; abandoned the notion of something being there. But he couldn't. If he even tried, his feet would freeze in place. The only direction they seemed to want to go to was the ally where the noise came from. Finally, after what felt like an hour, Misha headed toward the area, not looking as he stepped onto the empty street.
Doing his best to remain quiet, he stopped just at the opening and leaned against the brick wall of a building. Slowly, he peaked around the corner to see in the dark ally. There, a man close to his age, squatted, naked as the day he was born, hair long, wild and oily as his eyes seemed a bit shrunken just like his cheeks. His ribs were poking out of his skin and he was completely filthy with dirt and mud, mass of clumps and tangles were visible in the stranger's hair as he scavenged through a trashcan that he no undoubtedly had knocked over. As Misha scanned over the hunkered form of the man, he spotted his foot bleeding from the glass that had broken nearby.
Taking in a breath, he felt his heart throb for the man. This concerned him, for he should not be feeling this for a man which could very well be from an asylum or could be a murderer. It was the look on the stranger's clean shaven face of hunger that drew Misha out from behind the building and squatted in front of the man with a good amount of distance between them, hand instantly going to his jacket pocket for his gummy sharks that he had stuffed in there. The being spotted him and froze where he was bent over, eyes judging Misha with each move he made.
"Are you hungry?" Misha felt foolish by his question as he took out his pack of candy. The man backed up a bit, watching his hands curiously as the giant took one of the sharks from the pack and tossed it to the nude man who jumped away as it landed on the asphalt. When the candy didn't move, the wild man crawled closer to it and poked it before jumping away, analyzing it. Still, the gummy shark made no move. Misha was pleased as he saw the man lift the candy up hesitantly and lick it, cooing at the taste, he ate it with savagely and with vigor. His teeth tearing into the candy like an animal alerted Misha and it clicked in his mind. This was no man, but a inservire. He wanted to slap himself. The lack of beard should have told him exactly what this beast was. Submissives had no facial hair, containing very little testosterone to produce a beard but just enough to label them male outwardly. On the inside, the creatures had the parts of women, something that the Prophet claimed was a sin.
Misha stared at the inservire apprehensively as it relaxed slightly, giving off weak squeaks and coos with its unnaturally male voice. It was against the law to even interact with the creatures, let alone feed it. It was considered a sin, unclean. By feeding it, Misha could go to prison. But the more he stared at the submissive's face and innocent eyes, the more he felt drawn to the creature. It-no, it was clearly a he. He was rather handsome to Misha and the giant couldn't keep the smile from reappearing on his face. The action was a positive thing to the inservire as it clumsily worked to repeat the action and brought a hand to his face, pleasantly. Chuckling, Misha grabbed another shark. "Is called a smile." He found himself informing the smaller man as he tossed the candy to him.
The inservire looked up when he had heard the giant's voice and smiled again, grabbing the candy an eating it, crawling closer to Misha as it did so, hesitantly. Staring at him, the inservire opened his mouth and let out a series of noises, a warped attempt at recreating his words. Misha laughed lightly which brought another smile to the submissive's lips. Another shark was thrown and eaten, another few inches closer. It wasn't long before Misha had gotten the man face to face with him. By then, the inservire was getting timid and looked like he was thinking if he should back off or not.
Even though he was tired and no longer able to feel his feet or legs from squatting so long, Misha felt that this experience was worth it. Despite the smell and the filth, the man was beautiful and the giant felt himself captured by the image that stared at him right in the face. Now thoughts strayed in his head. What did this man look like without all that hair and dirt? If he wasn't a inservire, what would he do? Would they have ever met? In that small instant, Misha imagined a time where they could stand side by side, not crouched as they were. This man had the face of a highly intelligence man and eyes that should have matched instead of those bright yet simple blue eyes that remained hidden behind those black locks. Breaking out o his thoughts, Misha paid no mind to the discomfort and hesitation the other man was suffering as the giant brought out the last gummy shark and held it in the palm of his hand, awaiting to see if the inservire would reach for it.
It was a test. Even the submissive knew it. The creature whined pitifully as he shifted where he sat, occasionally lifting a hand to grab it, only to pull away to see if Misha would grab him. When the giant didn't, the inservire lifted his hand, and pulled away. This tense chain of actions lasted for a good few minutes before finally the smaller man grabbed it, chirping happily when he wasn't harmed as the tips of his fingers grazed Misha's soft palm. The submissive must have liked the feeling of touch for he left his hand there longer than he should have, staring at the skin as if in a trance, slowly trailing his index finger lightly around the candy before he snatched the treat and tore into it, his free hand remained on Misha's hand, tracing it lightly still.
Curiously, Misha slowly flipped his hand over, making sure he still had skin contact with the creature as he kept his eyes on Misha. Slowly, the giant let his hand trail lightly over the arm of the submissive, earning innocent pleased sound from him as he did so until he got to the neck, pausing as the inservire stopped eating and stiffened, frozen in place like he was going to be harmed. Eyes flickering around wildly as Misha softly whispered comforting words to him as he raised his hand and angled it, going passed the younger man's neck and settled on the side of his face, brushing the dirty skin lightly. All the while, the inservire had his eyes tightly shut, but feeling the comforting feeling on his face, relaxed him as he pushed his face further into the hand, nuzzling it.
Smiling softly, he pressed his face into the other man's, daringly. Resting his forehead against the others he felt the other breath softly as he finished chewing the snack and swallowing before pressing himself against Misha's bulk to protect himself against the cool wind that started to blow through. Rubbing his thumb lightly over the submissive's face, he whispered. "I won't let them hurt you." knowing full well that if either Misha or the inservire were found out, they both would be beaten, or worse. Killed.
He only prayed that he wouldn't get caught.
He never really thought through how he was going to get the inservire without getting seen. Although it was early morning and the streets were currently bare, there was always a chance of someone waking up and stepping out of their cozy houses to see a giant man being followed by a naked man, wearing a large brown jacket that hung over his smaller frame with the sleeves dragging along the sidewalk. It was easy for Misha to coax the creature into covering himself in the jacket, it being warm compared to the night air and finding that the creature could stand upright as he galloped behind Misha and his huge strides. It was even easier to get the submissive to follow him; being the one who had fed the poor, starving thing, the inservire found himself attached to the larger man who supplied delicious food. No longer afraid of the giant's touch, it seemed that all Misha had to do was walk away and the creature would follow, chirping happily when the giant would turn to make sure he was still there, playfully hiding his face into the soft leather of the jacket. As he lured the beast to his home, he kept a weary eye open, focusing in every direction to make sure he wasn't spotted. The journey seemed to take hours but they reached the gates of the Demidovsky family estate. Quickly, he punched in the code to open the heavy metal bars of the enterance and scanned around for any of the servants that might have woken up at the sound of the gate opening.
The noise of the ratting metal started the inservire as he jumped and backed away, whimpering and ducking down to slowly crawl away. Cursing under his breath, Misha bent down and hushed the startled creature, rubbing his back as he did so through the material of the jacket. The second he made contact with the frightened submissive, the man ran to him and snuggled into the giant's bulk, whimpering loudly in what Misha assumed was the creatures way of begging for protection. This behavior was understandable since this beast grew up in the forest and without anything related to the noisy gate. To the small being, the metal could be just another monster come to harm him. Hushing the shivering inservire, he wrapped his arms around the small frame and led him up the slightly lit path to the mansion, taking care to avoid the sights of the hidden cameras he knew were about. Stopping just at the front door, he heard the sound of voices; knowing it was Blair, asking about Misha's whereabouts. Snarling, the giant quickly guided the submissive around the side of the mansion to the servants entrance and grabbed the door, pulling it open.
Poking his head in the room, he felt his heart pound and could hear each beat in his ears. It was the kitchen store room, where all the food was placed until they were to be used. Although it was dark, Misha's eyes adjusted well into the room and he sighed in relief when he found it empty. Doing his best to remain quiet, he lightly shoved the shivering form of the submissive in and removed his arms from him to close the door as softly and quietly as he was able too. By this point, the inservire had frozen on the spot, glancing over at Misha and wondering why is protector was leaving him alone in this big, dark, and cold room. It wasn't until he saw the garlic gloves that hung on the wall beside the archway of the door did he give a squeal of excitement and hurry around happily, plucking a nearby apple from a bowl and grabbed another with his other hand, causing the jacket to fall to the floor. Hungrily, he bit into the juicy apple and squealed in delight. He had chosen his protector well. The giant had food, more so than he could ever imagine existed. And all in one room. He munched on the fruit noisily and purred at the taste, loving the fact that he could fill his empty belly.
Misha had jumped at the loud noise that had erupted throughout the room the second the door had shut. He spun on the balls of his feet, ready to fend off anyone who had popped in unannounced and sucked in air when he realized it was the inservire that had made the loud noise that had no doubt, alarmed any servant passing by. He walked to the creature that was stuffing his face, piercingly loud with each bite and chew that he made from the apple he ate, holding another apple protectively in his other arm. Misha hurried over to the smaller man and bent down to grab the jacket and in a hurry, covered the submissive with his, causing it to hang over his head. The inservire groaned disapprovingly but made no attempt to shake the jacket off and continued to eat. Heart pounding and nerves making his hands shake, he went to grabbed the beats' wrist, making the being pull his arm away and look at him with a hurt expression. Grumbling, Misha picked him up like he was a child, legs wrapping around his torso and his hand with the spare apple, wrapped around his neck, realizing that Misha wasn't going to take his food, but wanted him to move.
The inservire cooed loudly as he took a look around at all the food in the room as Misha carried him to the door, pausing to press his large back to the door and listened closely through the wood. Doing what he could to ignore the sounds the submissive was making, he was relieved to hear nothing passed the wood and let out the air he was holding. Gripping the door handle, Misha frowned as the man in his free arm froze briefly before sighing contently and the giant felt his front suddenly get warm. Clenching his eyes, he frowned as the smell of urine had touched his nose. Mentally he counted in his head, ignoring the wetness that slowly leaked through and down his shirt; the inservire went back to making his loud coos and chirps like he had done no wrong as he finished the first apple and dropped the core on the ground.
Ignoring the core, it was now or never. He opened the door to the kitchen and stepped out, feeling the creature yawn bend down to rest against Misha's shoulder as he slowly fell asleep as the giant slunk through the kitchen and out into the hallway. They were lucky as all the servants in the area were asleep and tucked away in their beds as Misha made it to his room with his snoozing passenger. Shutting his bedroom door, he locked it quickly, thankful that his room had extremely thick walls and door, so noise was reduced drastically. Not bothering to turn the lights on, he didn't hesitate to take care in setting the inservire on his large, clean, and comfortable bed and take off of his pee stained red shirt and looking at it repulsed. That had been his favorite shirt, one that his mother had knitted before they had made it to LunaWood.
His room was moderately big to fit a man of his size with equally big, custom made furniture so he wouldn't break as he used them. His large, king sized bed was just the right size and took up a good portioned area of his room. A nice and professional mahogany bookshelf sat at the side of the room with plush chairs for when he felt like reading and an equally professional mahogany desk sat nearby with mounds of papers, files and books from where he did all his paperwork and business from. Strong gray file cabinets sat side by side beside his desk along with shelves that held unfinished paperwork. A lap sat between his desk and the bookshelf, giving a warm light and feeling to the entire work area. A television hung on the wall, opposite of the bed so if he couldn't sleep, he had something to do as he lay in bed in the middle of the night. The cream colored carpet of the room was neat and mess-free, covered by a round rug.
Grumbling, he threw it down the laundry chute that connected to the wall near his bed, praying that the maids could get the smell out from his shirt and not ask questions on how he got urine there to begin with. Watching the man sleep on his bed, Misha rubbed his balled head and sat down on the bed beside the sleeping form, making a mental list on caring for the creature. The man needed to be toilet trained. That was the first thing on his mind. He couldn't go to work and come home with urine and feces all over. Crossing his arms, he tapped his chin in thought. He had no knowledge of how to potty train anyone. Huffing, he made a shopping list. He'd need some adult diapers to start it out with when he went to train the inservire. Then there was the matter of his hair. Half turning, he scanned the clumps and mats in the dark locks that otherwise would have been beautiful on the man. There was no way he would be able to comb out that tangled mess without the submissive yelling an screaming like he was being murdered. The only option was to cut what he could, off. Looking to his desk that sat in the corner, covered in messed financial papers and schedule books from his work earlier, his eyes landed on the pair of scissors that sat on the dark, polished mahogany. Taking a quick look back at the sleeping man, he hummed.
He could go ahead and get the hair issue over and done with while the creature slept. It would be less stressful for both of them if he did that now rather than when he was awake. Misha was sure that once the sleeping man was up, there was no way he was letting the giant near him with a potential weapon that he had no knowledge of how to fight back. Settling on that idea, he got up and strode to his desk. Grabbing the red handled scissors, he winced as he knocked over a manilla folder by accident and watched as it fell from the edge of his desk and onto the floor with a soft, yet seemingly loud plop to the floor. Turning his head back to the bed, he smiled, seeing the inservire still fast asleep, none the wiser about his planned grooming. Wasting no time, the giant did what he could to remain silent as he tip-toed back to the side of his bed and gently flipped the man on his stomach. Taking the scissors, he got to work. The submissive made no move other than to scratch his face from there his cut hair had landed every few moments.
Misha was never very good when it came to cutting things; hair especially. He had to get pretty close to the man's head and luckily, he never gave the inservire any bald spots. But his work was sloppy. There was nothing neat about this new hair style but at least the tangles and clumps were gone. Taking the mass of hair, which resembled more of a dead animal, he tossed it in the trash bin and looked down at the sleeping man, who scratched his nose a little too roughly in his sleep, wincing as he left a small cut where his nail dug into his skin. Taking the hand, Misha himself flinched at the sight of the long and broken nails the man had, a few looking to be infected as his nails on the other hand, left marks in the apple he held tucked close to his chest.
It was a good thing that Misha had a bathroom connected to his bedroom; for reasons being that he was the only man of the group and his mother felt that he should have a bathroom to himself so his mother and sisters could have all their womanly products of all sorts in the one in the hallway without having to hide them away. He grabbed the nail clippers and did what he could with his large hands. By the time he had gotten that done, the giant had felt exhausted beyond belief, looking at his bedside clock, it had turned four in the morning and he had around three hours before he had to get to work. Grumbling tiredly, he rubbed his eyes and set the clipper beside the clock and laid down beside the smaller man, leaving a good amount of room between him and the submissive. His tired state making him too exhausted to even remove his boots, he closed his eyes and relaxed in the bed, feeling the inservire snuggled up close to his side, he snored.
It felt as if he had just shut his eyes when he felt the bed move and the frightened cry of the submissive echo off the walls of his room as his alarm clock went off at seven thirty. Groaning, he opened his eyes to see the inservire hopping lowly on the floor, crying out as the alarm went off before seeing Misha wake and jumping on the bed, opposite of the loud machine to hide behind the giant as he sat up, stretching. His body felt heavy. That was the first thing he had noticed as he turned the clock off, making the submissive quiet down and purr into his back. He gave a pat to the smaller man as stood, hearing his bones pop as he did so, and stumble to the bathroom. He barley paid any mind to the squeaking man that followed him as he did what he could to get ready for the day. Stumbling over the man a few times, he attempted to shoo the inservire away, lightly pushing him away. This did little to deter the smaller man as he thought this to be a game and would jump away and run around cackling before running back to the giant.
In the end, Misha resorted to turning the television on, switching the channel to a random station which ended up being a children's show. Instantly, the inservire was hooked, staring blankly at the screen as he sat on the bed, hand fingering his now short hair absentmindedly. Content that he now was able to finish getting ready, he grabbed his dress suit that hung on his bathroom door, newly ironed and bagged to keep it nice for work. Teeth brushed, shaved, dressed and slightly awake, he stopped at the full body mirror to make sure nothing was out of place before looking at the inservire from the mirror. There was little he could do for the smaller man. The submissive couldn't understand language. It was like having a dog, only able to understand the concept of food and affection of the owner. Staring at the dirt smudges littering the man, Misha made another mental note to bathe him when he got back. Stepping away from the mirror and up to the man, he rubbed his forehead against the creatures, earning a smile and a small laugh. As far as he could tell, that was a way of reassurance.
The submissives eyes remained glued to the images on the screen as Misha left, worried about the smaller man as he did so, making sure to leave a do-not-disturb sign on his door, hoping that the maids would finally learn to obey it. Not once had they regarded the sign in the past, finding Misha was too kind to doc their pay or fire them to instead, frowning his disapproval quietly as they went about their business. The staff bustled by as he trailed down the stairs tiredly, snatching the bagel from the tray that Blair held out, knowingly with a plain face. Trailing behind him, Blair handed the tray off to a passing maid and took a neatly folded cloth napkin. "Take care, young sir." Blair said as he stopped Misha to tuck the cloth in his pocket as the giant ate his small breakfast.
"You as well." replied the Russian as he finished off his food and left the large doors to the path that Misha and the inservire had taken earlier. Three steps outside, he stepped back in to find his middle aged butler holding out his briefcase, hidden amusement fluttered in Blair's eyes. "Thank you." Thanked Misha as he took the briefcase, shaking his head tiredly. "Also, do you know where-" His business cellphone and pager was handed to him before he could finish his question. "Here you are, sir." Blair responded coyly, the tiniest hint of a smirk touched the sides of the butler's mouth. Feeling his face go red, the giant took them and put them in his pockets before stepping back out side and to his car.
His mother had wanted him to ride in their limo when he had gotten his father's job but he had refused, finding himself more comfortable to drive around with his SUV. He loved the way his vehicle came to life as he started it and buckled, taking only one look at his bedroom window at the top of the beautiful mansion, his thoughts lingering on his guest, in hopes that the inservire would remain hidden. There wasn't much he could do with hiding the creature as he couldn't lock the door without locking himself out and needing to call a locksmith to let him back in. Shaking his head, he could not rid himself of the worry he felt as he went off to work. He had to play everything off as if it were normal. No one should notice even a small thing off. He couldn't afford bringing any attention to himself in fear of having people question him and investigating on what had the large man so spooked.
It wasn't until he made it to the tall building he worked at did he start to ease up. He worked in retailing, and was really high on the ladder; it had taken him years to get there and he wasn't going to lose his position because his mind was distracted. Getting out of his car, he locked it before trudging tiredly to the building. Work was relatively normal aside from a few mishaps of lost paperwork and stock market issues. He had all but forgotten about his recent house guest that he was concerned about. By the time he got out around six-fourteen, his back had been aching, his head throbbed, and his eyes burned. The three hours of sleep and the eleven hours of working, almost cause him to forget about dropping by the store like he had planned on doing.
It was very strange to be looking for adult diapers. Having never needed to before now, Misha wasn't sure where he should even start his search. He had been too embarrassed to ask a worker where they could possibly be located and ended up wondering around the small store for about twenty minutes until he finally found them around the baby selection, unsure why they were there to begin with. All the selections that were in one section made his head spin as he settled for one that was the most durable. Grabbing a package, he went to pay for it until passerby stopped him.
"Are you caring for someone?" They asked. This made him pause and stare at the woman that had asked. She was a petit woman with brown hair twisted up into a messy bun on the top of her head. Her clothes were a little wrinkly; a bright blue shirt with a chick on it that said "I have my Peeps" and baggy gray sweat pants. She was pushing a cart full of groceries while her ten year old son stood behind her, looking up at Misha in amazement. Feeling his face go red at being caught with diapers, he nodded. "Yes. They can not care for themselves." which technically was true. The inservire couldn't actually care for himself in Misha's home with things, much more complex for the simple minded man to come to grips with. "I am not sure what I am to do." The woman smiled and nodded, pushing her cart of groceries to the side so the people behind her could pass by. Walking to Misha's side, she reached up and grabbed a bottle of powder. "Use this." She supplied nicely and handed him the bottle. Grabbing it, he looked at it puzzled before turning back to her.
"It keeps it from rubbing absorbs moisture." She chirped at seeing his expression. "The wearer also won't get rashes so they won't be uncomfortable." This made since and he nodded with a thanks. She giggled slightly as she waved her hand as if to shoo the notion. "I'm a nurse." She stated. "It's my job to help. Would it be impolite to ask what is wrong with them, whoever they are?"
He could have said that it would be impolite. But he felt as if he owed her for her small help. But there was no way he could tell her that he was housing a inservire. So what else could he do? Lie. Looking from side to side, he thought. "He is....uhh...." Stumbling over his thoughts, he blurted out what he first had in mind. "Mentally challenged. Has problem with the bathroom." Seeing her nod, he felt himself relax. The lie felt thick in his heart but it also had relieved him of the guilt earlier. "I understand." She hummed and rubbed her arm. As she did so, her son, who had her hair color and a red cap on his head, tugged on her shirt.
"Mooooooom." He whined pitifully, reminding the giant much of Scott. "Can we go now?" His mother tutted and looked down at her impatient child with a tap to his nose. "In a minute, Greg. Mommy is talking."
"It is alright." Misha assured before the child could start whining again. "I really should be leaving. My friend really needs these." He held the package up, explaining what he meant. Her attention drawn back to him, she nodded once again in realization. "Oh, yes. I'm sorry." She apologized quickly, going red herself from embarrassment as her hands picked at her pants. "I get to talking and I want to keep going." Misha just grinned. "It is okay." looking down at the boy, who was now pouting, he looked back up to the woman who, if he looked closer at, looked really familiar. "Maybe we can talk again?" He asked, if only to relieve her of her shame.
Seeing the blush flee from her face, she nodded. "I'd like that. My name is Jennifer Pauling." Jennifer introduced and held out her hand. He almost dropped his things in shock. How could he forget her, she was the Mayor's niece who was in her early sixteen when she had gotten pregnant. Now at twenty-six years old, she was a single mother in a nice apartment in town. "Miss Pauling?" He cried, doing what he could to keep his stuff from falling to the floor. Taking her hand with his large one, his grim became a full blown smile. "You were just a young thing when we met. Remember, I am Misha Demidovsky."
She gasped and laughed, bending over slightly as realization struck her. "Now I remember you!" She squealed happily. "I was sixteen when we met." She gave him a quick hug in which he returned. "It's been ten years!" He just chuckled. When they pulled away, she grabbed her cart. "If you're going to pay now, I'd suggest you grab some wipes. You're going to need them. Come, We have so much to talk about." When she and her son turned to leave, he followed, grabbing a box of wipes as he went.
Seeing Jennifer again was one of the best times of his life. They had been the best of friends those ten years ago before she moved and almost had to drop out of high school. Though, thankfully, her son was born late so she got to graduate that year and went back after he was born. Her son, Greg, was the son of Simon Static, who had left when he had found out that he was going to be a father, leaving Jennifer to the wrath of her Aunt. Trent had been excited about the new arrival that his cousin carried and would often buy her gifts or make them. Catching up with her, Misha found, would take much longer than a day, or less than one in this case, and they agreed to schedule a day when they would get together again.
Driving back to his estate, the giant was ecstatic about meeting his old friend that he never would have anticipated what he would find. When he stepped into the mansion, he had stepped into the kitchen where his cook resided, standing over a large boiling pot. His cook was a stickily man who was graying slightly and had a slight stubble on his face. An ashtray sat on a table, far away from where food was being prepped and cooked. His father, before he had passed, met up with their cook while in France. The man had loved to cook and he was excellent at everything he made, so Misha's father hired him.
Francis, feeling eyes on him, turned irritably and spotted the giant standing in the door. "Can I help you?" That was the thing that Misha liked about this man. He wasted no time on pleasantries and was blunt and to the point. Coughing into his arm, the giant leaned against the doorway slightly, adjusting the bags he carried in his arms. "I request my usual portions for dinner, only an extra plate." He snorted plainly in response. "Leave the tray outside my door." Without waiting for a response, he turned and left the kitchen, wasting no time to head on up the stairs and to his room. Opening the door, he was in for a shock. The room was wrecked and ranked of stale urine; stains on his bed and in the carpet told him where the smell came from. The television was on but instead of the children shows from earlier, they had a horror movie marathon on. It was no wonder of what had happened in the room. The bed was a mess as the blankets were thrown about and dirt littered the sheets as well as the urine, the pillows stone across the floor, the lap had been knocked over but intact and still functioning, and a pale foot stuck out from under the bed.
Closing and locking the door behind him, Misha calmly went over to his bed and set the objects that he had bought earlier on it, grabbing the remote that lay on the side table and turned the television off just as a werewolf popped on the screen. Setting the remote back down, he grabbed the adult diapers and opened the package to grab one out before pulling the wipes, powder, and gummy sharks that he had gotten last minute, setting them on the bed. "It is understandable why you were scared." He cooed softly to no one as he calmly stepped into his open bathroom and grabbed a few towels and wash cloths. Getting everything ready to bathe the inservire. Hearing a confused squeak from under the bed, he set the towels out. Turning on the water, he made sure it was the right temperature before filling the tub. When it was full, he turned it off.
"Werewolf's are very scary." He agreed mostly to himself as he stepped out of the bathroom, seeing the submissive poking his head out from under the bed to investigate who was speaking. "Would hate to run into one myself." Making the connection as he spotted his protector, the submissive crawled out from under the bed and quickly ran to Misha, who caught him as he landed in his arms, sobbing. Holding the crying man, he held him closely and slowly rocked a bit as he looked at the mess he was going to have the maids clean. He wasn't sure where he was going to hide his inservire until then but he had no choice. He smiled reassuringly at the whimpering man in his arms and spoke like he was talking to a child. "You know what I do when I am scared?" of course the submissive gave no response as he buried his face in Misha's neck as he clung to him. Carrying the smaller male into the bathroom. "I take a warm bath."
Honestly, if you asked Misha, he was terrified of the thought of putting his inservire into the warm water, for fear of him overreacting. To his surprise, the smaller male relaxed once his bare skin touched the warm water and he stopped crying and removed himself from Misha in favor of playing in the water happily, forgetting his earlier fear. Seeing this, the giant left the room to change out of his work suit and changed into a pair of clothes he normally wore to lounge in, which was just a white tank top and pajama bottom. As quickly as he could, he shuffled back into the bathroom, to find the submissive looking around for him, alert and fright clearly shown on his face.
Seeing Misha return, he held out his arms and squeaked excitedly. It wasn't until Misha was kneeling by the tub did the man calm down and grab his tank top to keep him from leaving again with one hand and splashed the water lightly with the other hand. Finding this amusing, Misha ignored the hand that held onto him and took the wash cloth, wetting it in the water and lathering it with soap, he began to wash the submissive's face, meeting very little resistance as he did so. Even though the smaller male's arm was in the way, he managed to get his face clean. Misha was completely amazed by how pale his face was. Those strong features really stuck out with the dirt and long hair gone. If it weren't for the childish behavior and innocent eyes, you never would have known that this was an inservire he was washing.
He rinsed the cloth and lathered it with soap once again, washing the submissive's body, starting with the arm that held onto him. Although, the creature-no, man shivered as the air touched his now wet skin, Misha was still met with little resistance, even when washing the man's privates; although the inservire did stiffen at the touch and seemed to purr. Finishing as quickly as he could, he finally got to the hair. Washing the man's hair as uneventful other than him almost falling asleep in the tub from the soothing motions the giant had made when washing his head, only to wake up with a jolt, purring happily at Misha's soft, rumbling laugh. Throughout this, Misha spoke to him, softly and calmly. Telling him the names of the things that were littered around. The other male seemed to understand somewhat and made crude attempts at repeating the words but gave up for laughing. There were a few instances of the inservire trying to eat the soap, shampoo, and conditioner; in which Misha stopped him gently but did not stop the man as he licked the soap and spat it out, leaving his tongue dangling from his mouth until Misha laughed and removed the soap from the appendage as best he could.
When the washing was done, Misha could have sworn the smaller male growled at him when he was pulled from the warm water. But nothing much else happened as he grabbed the towel he had set nearby. As he rubbed the now clean skin dry, happy squeals and calls escaped Misha's guest as thin hands grabbed onto the towel and wrapper it around him, chirping and laughing as he let Misha go to roll on the floor happily in the plush soft fabric. Seeing his chance, Misha quickly stood up and left the bathroom, but he apparently was not quick enough for the submissive sprinted after him as if frightened that he would be separated from the larger man again. This suited the giant just fine as he grabbed the diaper he had removed from the package earlier and powdering it up like he remembered Jennifer had told him earlier.
Setting it on a clean spot on the floor, he reached over and gently grabbed the smaller man before he could crawl away and set him on the diaper. "Until I can teach you otherwise." He muttered calmly to the man who was now trying to wiggle away as the adult diaper was fastened on him. The man wiggled and pinched at Misha's hand as he secured it on him. Only until the giant was sure that the submissive wouldn't remove it, he released him. "There." He cooed, rubbing the man's face as he often found himself doing lately. The inservire was uncomfortable and he made sure Misha knew it too by his expression and his vocalizations. Netherless, the submissive leaned into the giant's touch and crawled into his lap, protesting softly.
Misha chuckled and wrapped his arms around the small frame and rocked him again. "I know it feels strange." He comforted, rubbing his head against the other's, earning a coo from the submissive and a snuggle in responce. "I must give you a name. What shall I call you?" He hummed as he looked to the ceiling. His submissive smiled, having perfected the action overnight, he shoved his nose into Misha's neck and purred again. Laughing lightly, the giant grinned widely. "You are like a kitten." He paused and snorted at that. "Well, until I figure out what to call you, I will call you котёнок." He looked down at the man in his arms. "Yes." He agreed to himself. "Kitten sounds just right for now. My little котёнок"
Sorry it got sloppy around the end. I got pretty tired and it takes me all day to write just one chapter. I hope it's still good though.
If there was one thing that Misha was glad for, it was the lack of questions his maids gave him as they went in his room to clean the mess up. In a way, the giant felt sorry for have them cleaning that up instead of him. Normally, he wouldn't have them do something unless he couldn't do it himself. But since he had the inservire, it took all he could do to keep the active man quiet. During the time they had before the Russian had called the maids, Misha had moved Kitten, as he had gotten used to calling the submissive, to a guest room which was more suited to be a small apartment rather than a space for a resident. The room had a small kitchen for when the guest got hungry and didn't feel up to making the trip to the mansions kitchen. He was tempted to lock the smaller man in the bathroom as he went back to retrieve the food tray that the staff had left shortly before he called for clean up. Kitten had gotten more active, that was for sure. In the single day that Misha had left, aside from watching childish cartoons and literally getting the piss scared of him by the horror marathon, the submissive must have had a few naps here and there because there was no way the giant could get the inservire to calm down; as the man would just run and hop around the room and on furniture like a child at Christmas, successfully knocking over another lamp. Luckily, it was undamaged. It was also lucky for them that the floor that they resided on typically remained empty aside from the entire Demidovsky family who had a room for each individual person.
As he brought the food cart closer to the guest room, he braced himself as he stopped at the door, grabbing the handle. There was no doubt that Kitten was hungry; having forgotten to feed the submissive as he rushed to get to work, he knew that the smaller man's stomach was empty with the exception of the two apples that the man had eaten last night. As he dragged the cart and closing the door behind him, he looked up just in time to see Kitten run right at him. Any other time seeing a grown man that wore a diaper running at him would have amused him had the man in question not been his secret charge, on his way to a tray of burning hot food. It took all the agility he had to grabbed the inservire in a gentle grip to keep him from knocking the food over and burning himself on it. Letting out a breath of relief, he gazed at the man in his arms to see the submissive wiggling in his grasp as he looked to Misha and pointed at the tray, squeaking as his expression pleaded for the food the surface held.
"It is very hot." He pointed out, rubbing Kitten's thigh soothingly. "You will burn yourself." Of course, Kitten made no move to show he understood the words his host had uttered and continued to wiggle in the strong arms of his captor, this time, whining as he reached out, only for the giant to turn his body slightly away from the hot food. This action caused the inservire to give a hurt expression and stopped his struggling, he now lay limp in the arms, crying as he held onto Misha's shirt. This felt like a weight in his heart. He wasn't doing this to hurt Kitten. He only wanted to keep his submissive from hurting himself. the giant was planning to feed the smaller man after he had gotten him settled down. Looking down to the food, he scanned multiple bits of it, working out in his mind on how he could show the weeping man it would hurt him if he wasn't careful. Sighing, he picked up a hot fry, feeling his fingers burn from the heat that came off of it, and holding it up to the submissive. Well, Misha figured that the best way to show him, was for Kitten to learn the hard way.
When he spotted the fry, the inservire gave no hesitation as he grabbed it and popped it in his mouth, only to spit it back out and hold his mouth with his hands, looking at the giant as if what he had experienced was utter torture. Kitten gave no noise as he looked at the offending fry that now lay on the floor, before hiding his face in his hosts neck as if frightened. Guilt riddled him but Misha knew he had done the right thing. The giant's very own mother had often remarked of his experiences as a stubborn child; and if the man in his arms was anything like the giant, there would be much he would have to learn very similar like this. Going over to the small dining table that sat close to the mini kitchen, he set Kitten on one of the dining chairs. The man was content to remain there as he held his mouth with his hands, whimpering as Misha left him to grab the plates off the tray and set them on the table. This silence was unnerving to the giant but he thought that once the smaller man had gotten food in his belly, he would be back to the happy, squeaky submissive he had brought home last night. Unfortunately, when the plate was set in front of Kitten, the man flinched and bent away from the plate like it was on fire. Frowning, Misha grabbed his chair and brought it right beside the inservire as he set his own plate beside him and grabbed a fry on the other man's plate that had cooled a bit. Holding it up, Kitten stiffened, as Misha bit into it.
The smaller man was curious; the giant could see it on his face. Curious as to why Misha hadn't gotten burnt. It wasn't until the giant gently took Kitten's shaking hand to use the thin index finger the smaller man had to tap the bit he had remaining. At first, there was resistance as he brought the hand closer but once Kitten realized that he wasn't being hurt, he cooed, relaxing as Misha held the fry to the submissives mouth. The look that Kitten had given was questionable. The giant hadn't known if the man hated it or liked it, but due to hunger, the inservire ate with no complaint, gently touching the food before he ate it to make sure it wasn't hot. "See?" Misha snorted proudly. "Not so bad is it?" he questioned as he held up a fry, this time, with chili on it. Kitten just cooed and ate it gladly. This process was slow and Misha was glad that it wasn't soup he was trying to feed Kitten because it had gotten messy. Good thing the chili of the chili fries only got on the table rather than the floor or any other questionable areas.
With how well the man was sitting in the chair, Misha could only praise him, rubbing the top of the inservire's head which made the submissive squeak, proud that Misha approved of whatever he was doing. After food was done and dishes sent out for a servant to pick up later, Misha could only mentally complain about all the paper work and phone calls he had to make before tomorrow. Going back to his room wasn't a pleasant experience. As he stepped in to see about three maids doing what they could about the floor and his bed, having cleaned most of the mess up including the broken glass from the lamp's bulb, he grabbed his briefcase and cell phone without a word and headed back to the room he and his guest were staying in.
And there posed another problem. He wasn't sure how he was going to keep the man calm and quiet while he worked? He couldn't leave the room, should Kitten freak out again when he noticed Misha's absence. No, he was stuck to the man like glue at this point and the giant didn't want him getting hurt on any of the devices in the room, like he was about to now. "котёнок, no!" Roaring out, he immediately dropped his items to the floor in time to grab Kitten before he could stick a fork into a light socket. Sighing, he took the utensil from the man's hand, earning a protest squeak in retaliation and a pinch to his arm as he put the fork on the counter and dragged the man to the bed. "That would have hurt you." He scolded, wagging a finger at the submissive, reminding himself of the mother of the child he had seen in the store yesterday. Groaning, he gave a hard look to the smaller man as he lifted him to set him on the bed. Kitten, on the other hand, just ducked down to make himself appear small, not knowing why he had done to anger the larger man.
Sighing, his expression softened as he grabbed the submissives face and pressed his forehead to Kitten's comfortingly. "I am sorry, my котёнок." He apologized, earning a soft hesitant purr from the man. "I wish you knew what I was saying. It would be a lot easier to care for you." releasing the smaller man, got an idea as he reached to the night stand and turned on the television again, switching it to Sesame Street that played a few episodes at this time of night. It wasn't enough for Misha to get his work done but maybe it was enough to get Kitten familiar with the language. Instantly, the inservire was drawn to it like a moth to a flame. Whipping his head around, he crawled from the bed to kneel in front of the television, ignoring the giant as his face was practically pushed to the screen. Chuckling lightly, Misha pushed him back a bit, earning angry squawks and a glare. A short push to the floor slightly away from the screen was apparently enough to keep him planted there as he watched the show. Smiling at this, the Russian now had quiet and time to do his work. Picking his phone and briefcase from the floor, he set the case on the table and got to work.
If there was anything more tie consuming and required multitasking, it was doing work at home with another person in the room, making an attempt to copy the words from the show they were watching. As he made his calls, Misha found he had to keep a good eye on Kitten, least he look over and squeak to show off what he had just attempted. A smile and a wave from the giant was all he needed. In a way, the giant found that it was a lot like caring for a child while being a single parent. Staring at the papers in front of him, he held his phone pressed to the side of his face. "So what is the monthly drop shipping?" He questioned. Flipping the paper a little to look at the one under it, the person on the other end replied.
"Yes, but that doesn't match what the report says." He stated, scanning the paper again. There was a flitter of comments on the other end and he blinked. "This is no problem, have a few more flashes." The was a grumbled reply on the other end. "That way we don't have any more dead stock. Do you want that? Because I sure don't." There was a squeak from Kitten and he looked over to the smaller man, who made the letter 'W' with his hands. The giant smiled and nodded, feeling proud of his ward's small achievement and getting a large smile from the submissive as the man went back to his show while Misha frowned, quickly reminded of his work. "Well, what s the revenue from our rented space? Did they pay?"
By the time most of that had been cleared up, Kitten's show had long ended and the man was once again, jumping around the room, getting into everything he could. It got to the point where Misha had to actually get up while mid call with his boss as he pried the submissive away from his object of interest and plop him back in front of the television and find the man a new show to watch. With it being extremely late, there wasn't much that Misha could choose from that wouldn't scare Kitten into another fit. He had gone as far as to putting on his sister's Twilight movie in for the man but apparently, sparkling vampires didn't hold the inservire's attention for very long and after ten minutes into the show, Kitten was up and about again. This time, digging into the drawers that had cloths for the guests should they find they had to have an extended stay.
It wasn't until after he had gotten off the phone with his boss did he have to change Kitten's first diaper. The experience was strange and awkward for the giant and stressful for the submissive since the giant had to hold him down on his back to keep him from getting up. Through many trials and errors, he managed to complete the task without so much of a struggle and Misha had vowed never to feed the man chili again and the Russian quickly realized he'd need to toilet train the man when he had gotten time or be forced with changing adult diapers for the remainder of his life. Which gave him a reminder to pick more adult diapers and the like up so he wouldn't run out seeing as his time off wouldn't be until another few days or possibly weeks. One good thing about the entire changing process was that it tired Kitten out and the smaller man fell asleep on the bed with a purr, after hours of running about the room, screaming and yelling.
It was very much like caring for a child. In a way, Misha should have expected it. The man grew in the woods without parents or any other human alike other than fellow inservires that had managed to survive. It was rare for them to grow up and make it to adulthood. The more he thought about it, the more questions seemed to pile up. How did Kitten survive anyway? The man was left to die in the forest at birth. There was no way he could have survived on his own. Shaking his head, he looked down at the sleeping man, pride filling his heart. Other than having a female reproductive system and the lack of beard, the man was no different than Misha himself. He had two arms and legs like Misha. Kitten had a dick like Misha, and everything along with it. The man even smelled a bit like the giant. They were the same. It saddened the giant to know that perfectly able people were left to fend for themselves at birth just for having two genders. If a female was born with a dick and balls, she was either abandoned or killed, depending on what her parents wished. A male with a vagina, womb and ovaries was no different when it came to their fate. Surprisingly, the numbers of being born with two genders had become more increasingly now and the inservires in the forest had been proven to be breeding with each other.
Sighing, Misha rubbed Kitten's soft hair. He felt depressed from these thoughts and saw his eyes trace the submissives jaw. But Kitten, being fast asleep on the bed, paid it no mind as he smiled and snuggled into the sheets. The giant managed to crack a grin as the small amount of humor lightened his mood slightly. As he left Kitten's side to get ready for bed, he yawn, grabbing the large pajamas from the dresser. Putting them on and carefully hanging his suit on the hanger that hung in the empty closet, he went to the bathroom and brushed his teeth, staring at himself in the mirror tiredly. He could see dark circles around his eyes from lack of sleep. Grumbling, he spat out the toothpaste in the sink and wiped his mouth. Washing the brush, he set it in its toothbrush slot before leaving the room and turning off the light.
Kitten hadn't moved much from his position other than to stretch his legs out a bit; his bones giving a pop as he did so. Quietly as to not wake the sleeping man on the bed, he turned off the room light and paused to let his eyes adjust before heading to the bed and sinking into the soft mattress. The bed was smaller than what the giant was used to and practically had to hang onto the submissive to keep him from falling off from lack of room. That didn't bother Kitten or Misha though as the smaller one of the two just purred and snuggled closely to the warm body that held him. Closing his eyes, he lay ready to drift into sleep when his phone vibrated. Groaning quietly, he blindly reached to the night stand where he had set the device earlier and brought it to his head, pressing the answer button as he did so.
"Hey, big guy!" Scott...
"Scott, do you not know what time it is right now? I have work tomorrow." He muttered tiredly. There was an embarrassed cough from the other end.
"Yeah, well...I wanted ta talk ta ya." the boy on the other end was dead serious as he said this but Misha could also hear a hint of defeat and sadness. The giant sighed. "And this couldn't wait until later?" he questioned. Kitten whimpered and jolted slightly in his sleep from a nightmare he was currently having. Misha rubbed the man's back, hearing a relaxed sigh and the man stopped his movements now that he was back in a peaceful slumber.
There was silence on the other end for a while. "Please. It's important."
Misha sighed. "Fine, what is it?"
Scott gave a nervous laugh from the other end. "Can't talk now. I'll meet'chu at yer place before ya head ta work."
"Only work I have tomorrow is paperwork here at the mansion. I have a few chorse to do though." He supplied, reminding himself to go back to the store for more adult diapers, wipes and powder as well as a few things to keep Kitten occupied and a few books on child care. Scoot sighed with releif. ""Great, see you then.
The blood drained from his face as his tired mind quickly connected the information together. "Scott, wait-!" But it was too late. The boy had hung up and was coming over when the sun was in the sky. Kitten heard his outburst and woke up, staring tiredly at the giant, too sleepy to utter a confused sound. Misha mustered a fake smile and rubbed the man's head, slowly making him fall back asleep,leaving Misha to look at the ceiling in horror. How was he going to keep Kitten away from Scott?
I know not much happened in this chapter. I meant to update earlier in the day but Borderlands 2 didn't let me. I will work harder on making the chapters longer and more eventful. Or at least, I will make an attempt.
Chapter 6: The Magical World of "Ooh"
There are some mistakes and for that, I apologize. I wrote this really late and in a tired state. Plus, I also don't have a beta. Immight correct them later but for now, please bear with them. Thank you and enjoy.
The morning was stressful for the giant. Wait for the inevitable was all he could do as he woke up the next morning after a fitful sleep as he woke up to dry eyes and aching back, he left the bed and sleeping submissive along with it to prepare himself for the troubles he was sure to have later. As he showered, dressed and brushed his teeth, his thoughts were consumed with plotting out how to hide the inservire from Scott, who had an abnormally large mouth and tended to blab sensitive information to the next willing and tentative ear. Leaving the bathroom, he woke his ward up with a gentle shake and soft whispers, refusing to stop until the body came to life from his slumber. After changing Kitten for the morning, the giant was able to tug one of his spare red shirts that came slightly passed the man's waist and set the inservire at the table without a hassle. Seeing as the smaller man was still sleepy and rubbing his eye, completely comfortable with letting Misha do what he wanted. Fixing two bowls of cereal for their breakfast, he opened a nearby drawer and took out two spoons before closing the drawer with a dull thud and stepped up to the dining table as Kitten began playing with the shirt that he just realized he was wearing.
Pulling the shirt over his head and off his being, he giggled, ignoring the clatter of bowls being set on the surface of the table. It wasn't until his protector took the shirt from his hands and patiently put it back on him, buttoning the collar of the fabric so he wouldn't remove it again. The sight of Kitten's messy, choppy hair as he dragged the shirt over his head was a bit amusing to the giant for a moment. But reason overcame his senses. Buttoning the shirt with his nervous hands was difficult with how much they shook. The fear he felt for both Kitten and himself felt like it was consuming him. He couldn't afford to be caught with his inservire and he had mentally promised the submissive he would care for him. Forcing a smile on his face as Kitten flashed him with a cheerful grin that flooded his eyes with playfulness. The man seemed immune to Misha's fear yet the giant couldn't blame him for his obliviousness. Rubbing the already messy hair, he resigned himself to feed the smaller man before he ate himself, hoping to wear the submissive down enough to put him down for a nap before the boy could get here.
Placing himself in the chair closest to Kitten, he lifted up the man's spoon, watching as the submissives eyes followed the object as well as inspecting how Misha held the object closely. "I am going to teach you how to eat with a spoon." the giant supplied, showing Kitten the spoon and moved his hand in multiple angles in hopes that he could teach the sleepy man. His hand ceased moving when Kitten's colder hands gripped onto his as he pulled the hand and spoon to his face, looking at it with curiosity. Interested, Misha spun the spoon to hold the handle out, hoping that the man would take it.
Kitten's hands dropped, looking from the utensil to his protector, bewildered. What was the man wanting him to do? What was he supposed to do with the shiny object? This worried the smaller man and he frowned; as he had often seen his protector do lately. He guessed it meant a negative emotion. The last time he tried to play with a shiny object, the lager man had gotten mad at him and roared at him. Was this a test?
Misha could see the warped frown on Kitten's face. He could feel confusion radiating off the man as he looked to the spoon before looking to him as if asking for approval. "Go ahead, little котёнок." The giant ushered gently, using a soft coo as he spoke, seeing as that often assured the inservire of a good intention. Hesitantly, with this, Kitten raised his hand and slowly grasped the handle, twisting his long, scarred fingers around the metal and as Misha let go of the spoon, the submissive held onto the object tightly, grabbing it with his other hand as well like he was given some holy relic. A small smile crept on his face as he looked to Misha with a squeak, raising the spoon in the air like a knight with a sword. "Very good." Misha praised, chuckling. The giant then pushed the bowl of cereal to Kitten and sat back, watching intently to see if the man could figure this puzzle out.
The second he had seen the strange looking food, the inservire had forgotten all about the object in his hands. Removing one hand from the object, he went to reach in to grab a handful of the food when, from the corner of his eye, caught another shiny thing in Misha's hand that looked very much like the one Kitten himself was holding. Looking at his other hand to confirm that the giant hadn't taken his shiny toy from him, he chirped, satisfied that he still had his own. Thinking his protector was going to hand him the other toy, he grumbled when he saw that the other man made no move to give it to him but was in fact, dipping the shiny object into the food that resembled his own. When the giant took the tip of the shiny thing from his food, Kitten marveled at how he had gotten food to stay on it. Was it a trick. Chirping excitedly, with wide eyes, he had decided that he wanted to learn this trick too. It looked easy enough. Splatting his own shiny object into the food, he pulled it out and whined as not a single bit of the strange food had stayed on. Instead, it all dribbled back into the bowl. Confused, he watched his protector put the food in his mouth, chew, and swallow before doing it all over again. Watching the movements, Kitten tried again, this time, only a little stuck to the object. Squawking, he held the object to the other man, who had been watching Kitten as he tried to copy the act.
It amused Misha slightly to see the inservire try to copy what the giant had been doing, only to attempt it with the round part of the spoon, upwards. Thinking back, he probably should have tried showing the submissive before he started eating his own but he was curious to see if the smaller man could figure it out alone. Hearing the man cry out for the second time, the giant gave in and stood up to stand behind Kitten and gently holding the hand that the man used to wield the spoon. "You are holding it the wrong way." He instructed softly, grabbing the spoon, and without taking it from the frustrated man, he spun it the right way, making sure Kitten had a good grip on it before letting the other hand drop to the table. While this had been going on, Kitten was staring at the spoon with rapt attention, fully focused on learning this trick.
"Now you don't dip it in the cereal. You scoop it, like this." He stated with plain words as he used the inservire's hand to scoop some cereal into the spoon, hearing Kitten cheer happily. "Now you bring it to your mouth." Misha whispered, bringing the hand that held the spoon up to his mouth, feeling a sense of accomplishment as Kitten put the spoon full of food in his mouth and using his lip to drag it off the spoon as he pulled the utensil away. Watching with wonder and pride as the submissive did it again without the giant's help, Misha gave a real smile, momentarily forgetting about Scott as he sat down in his own chair and ate his breakfast, watching as Kitten ate, messy but successfully. Watching this achievement was worth all the cleaning he's have to do to wash the table from spilled milk. Food eaten, Kitten hopped away from the table and up to Misha, wrapping his arms around the large frame of his protector as he chirped excitedly and appreciatively, earning a nuzzle from the larger man as a way of rewarding the good behavior.
When Kitten had felt like letting him go, Misha got up to turn the television on to the inservire's current favorite show, Sesame Street, yet again, hoping that it would help with his language. "There you go, котёнок." Misha grinned as he set the remote on top of the TV, watching as Kitten immediately sat on the floor to view his show, his large shirt hung around his folded legs like a skirt. "Now I need you to be a little quiet while I clean up the dishes." with that said, he went to turn around to head back to the dining area when Kitten surprised him by grabbing his hand suddenly. Looking down at the sitting man, he gazed at the man's face as he smiled up at him from his spot. Blinking in confusion, he asked "What is it, котёнок? Need another change?" As soon as he asked, the submissive held up a hand, raising his index and middle finger. "Ooh." Chirped Kitten. Misha was floored.
"W-what?" He couldn't help but stutter out, staring at the man in shock. Color lit Kittens face as he lowered his eyes, thinking he had done something wrong. He repeated the action, this time, timidly. "Ooh?" Misha stared a while longer, his mind blank before he shook his head, snapping himself out of his shock and a huge grin covered his face. "Yes, yeas, very good!" He cheered, gently grasping the inservire to nuzzle his face in praise. Kitten giggled, deciding that what he had done was a good thing rather than a bad one, he lowered his hand, pleased at the praise he had gotten at his newest skill.
After a while, Misha had managed to get to work on cleaning the dishes at the small kitchen sink of the room while Kitten went back to his show, happily chanting "Ooh." Over and over. As he listened to this while he stood at the sink, he chuckled to himself. Of course the man hadn't said it right but it was a huge step from his normal squeaking and chirping. Only been here two days and the inservire had taken his first steps to speaking and feeding himself. And those were some remarkable feats considering the man's age. Even in his twenties, it was difficult for one to learn new things. At least, the giant assumed that Kitten was in his twenties. The man sure looked like it. He even sounded like it with his deep yet honey coated voice that sung each time he chanted out his new found "Ooh." Misha found he rather liked how the voice sounded to his ears, closing his eyes as he imagined that voice belonging to a much more advanced man that resembled Kitten.
"You are daydreaming again." he could hear the inservire's voice say, full of humor and a deep chuckled followed after the words in his head. "It is very unbecoming of you. What would people say?" But as he opened his eyes and was thrust back into reality with a very innocent and mentally underdeveloped submissive, he couldn't help but feel a pang of loneliness in his heart for the man he wished for Kitten to be. A man that didn't exist yet should have with a masculine but also soothing voice. Sighing to himself, he put the last bowl in the strainer to drain leftover water and went to grab his laptop and folders from where he had left them on the dresser; his laptop he had gone to grab from his room in the middle of the night. He had placed them both there before he had gone to bed last night to keep them from being misplaced. Sitting down at the now clean table, he opened his laptop and folder and continued his work.
For hours, he sat there, doing nothing but messing around with numbers and rearranging papers to try to get everything sorted and where they should be in both his business and the work on the table. Not once had Kitten called for his attention, focused on learning new things to show off to the giant, and leaving the giant to his job. Misha kept this up, not once taking a break from what he was doing except to either change Kitten or to use the restroom. Before he knew it, where it had once been 8:15 am, was now 3:30 pm. Rubbing his eyes, he looked over to the clock on his laptop. Staring at a screen full of numbers for hours on end gave him a slight headache and messed with his sight for a few minutes. Blinking the spots away, he had just caught sight of Kitten, who was no longer watching the television which was now showing the weather, the man was covered head to toe in flour and was playing in the white powder on the kitchen floor.
Blinking, he scowled at the sight. "When had that happened?" he questioned and looked behind the inservire to see the metal container that held the flour, on it's side, resting on the floor. "How did I not hear that?!" He exclaimed, scratching the back of his head, gaining Kitten's attention, who, when he spotted Misha looking over that way, waved, making a wave of four soar around in the air, covering the submissive even more efficiently with the white powder. Groaning, he stood up, hearing his back pop as he did so from not moving for a long period of time and walked over to the man, who had returned to playing in the flour, patting it into the wood flooring and tossing some up in the air.
"котёнок!" He cried, frowning, showing his disapproval to the submissive who stared at him confused. "Look what you have done. You have made a mess." he spread his arms out to the entire kitchen. There were very few places that the flour had gotten. Kitten looked around the now white kitchen, chirping his happiness that slowly ebbed away when he noticed the giant's frown. "Now I have to clean all this up." He eyed the inservire tiredly. "And you as well. You are covered in this as well." Grumbling, he bent down and lifted the man, who was now frowning and giving large sad eyes, into his arms like a child and carried him from the room. The kitchen would have to wait. The culprit had to be washed first with a new diaper and shirt.
Kitten's second bath wasn't much different than the first. The second he touched the warm water, he forgot about his shame and played in the water, splashing and chirping. Mentally Misha wondered if he should wash the man in cold water next time as punishment. But he pushed the idea away as quickly as it came. He wasn't cruel enough to freeze a man that trusted him and had no idea he had given the giant more work to do. After all, the giant shouldn't have been so engrossed in his work. He should have kept an eye on the man. Like raising a child, the giant was supposed to remain alert.
"Yes," Misha mumbled to himself as he watched the man play in the water. "Very much like raising a child."
Kitten didn't like being forced into an adult diaper, the giant learned that when he first put one one. Luckily he could tolerate the screaming that Kitten let out as he wiggled under Misha's hand and the pinches didn't hurt that same hand all that much. The shirt was another matter. The submissive loved it and the giant knew why. Compared to how cold the smaller man was when he had found him, the clothing provided warmth. Misha could only wonder how Kitten would react when the giant got around to putting pants on him, giving him that same warmth to his legs. With that done, Misha went over to the television that had still been running and flipped through the channels, hoping to land on a show that would keep Kitten busy while he cleaned the kitchen. Eventually he decided to leave the Fairy Odd Parents show on, not fully comfortable about having the man watching something even remotely violent. He wasn't happy about it but it kept the inservire's attention and so, he went on to clean.
It took him an hour to clean the entire kitchen and the show that Kitten was watching went from fairies and their godson with a walking talking yellow sponge. Rolling his eyes, he went to the bed and fell on it, intending to rest when a loud knock banged on the room's door. This startled Kitten as the man shot to his feet and stared at the door. Pushing himself to his elbows, the giant stared at the door, waiting for the person to speak as his heart pounded in his chest so fast that he could feel it in his throat. Another round of banging frightened Kitten enough to cause the submissive to run to his large protector, silently whimpering as he hid behind the giant. "Who is it?!" Misha called out, wrapping an arm around the frightened man and rub his back, feeling Kitten push himself into his side.
"It's Blair, sir. You have a guest." Chimed the butler from the other side of the door, a polite yet irritated tone echoing passed the wooden barrier. Silently shushing the whimpering inservire, the giant removed his arm and stood up from the bed, leaving the smaller man to grab the sheets and watch him worriedly. As he made it to the door and turn the handle, there was one thing that relieved Misha was the fact that his large and wide frame blocked Blair's sight from the silent submissive on the bed. Mentally, the giant begged that Kitten not make a sound as he stood there with the door halfway ajar with his girth in the way, facing his butler. Blair was an aging man, not yet in his sixties but barely touching his late fifties with graying hair and a few wrinkles here and there on his once handsome face. The man had been working in his family for years but the giant always guessed that Blair was quite the looker in his youth.
"A guest?" He asked, doing what he could to keep his fear from showing. The butler stood straighter as he stiffened up. "Yes sir." He confirmed tensely. This was strange since Blair was rarely tense. "Young Master Scott has arrived and has been pestering the staff to get-as he put it- you're -if you don't mind me quoting- "fat ass down there before I go up there and bang his head in."-If you will sir." It took all the giant had not to bust out laughing then and there. No wonder Blair was irritated and all stuffy at the moment. The man couldn't stand Scott, since the youth was the only one who could make a menace of himself simply by storming in and demanding thing. This irked the butler and Misha knew that all too well of all the years of knowing him. Blair hated snobbery and Scott was just full of it when there was something he wanted.
"Da, thank you Blair. I had forgotten he was coming over, otherwise I would have informed you." He apologized. All throughout working and cleaning after Kitten, who was silently sitting on the bed as he watched the giant closely for any signs of a fight, Scoot coming over had completely slipped his mind. Blair seemed to relax slightly. "Yes, well. Shall I inform him you will be down shortly?" Misha nodded. "Da, please, Blair. I will need a moment to clean up."
Blair bowed slightly, manners getting in the way of the older man showing his irritation. "Very well, sir. By the way, the maids say that you're room will take a bit longer than they expected." He informed the Russian. "They are having quite a bit of trouble removing the stench." The way Blair stared at him with such a soft expression reminded the giant of a fatherly gaze that was begging to be told of any problems but wouldn't push. With his face going red, the giant nodded. "Thank you, Blair." The butler just nodded before leaving, allowing Misha to close the door and turning to face Kitten, who now finally began to relax.
Scott came to his mind and the giant groaned. He hadn't had time to wear Kitten down and the man was riled up from the surprise visit Blair had made. Looking around, he went into the bathroom and grabbed an clean yet old torn rag from the closet that was often used to clean your body when you went into the tub. Tearing it into strips, he tied them together tightly just enough to resemble a small octopus before rushing back out into the main room where the bed sat and handed the new "toy" to the submissive who immediately took it and began to play with it, tossing it in the air and catching it before waving it around by one of its "legs".
"Now keep quiet." Misha cooed, rubbing their foreheads together like he does before he left. The man had yet to learn that this meant a temporary separation and chirped at the attention but continued playing with his toy that smelled really good. "I have a friend to meet." and with one last look at the inservire, he went out the door, shutting it quietly.
Chapter 7: Caught: A new Guardian
It took all he had in him not to go back to the room where the inservire resided, playing with his washcloth toy like it was the most exciting thing he had discovered. The worry that flooded his body at the risk of being found out went hand in hand with the tug in his heart that begged him to go back and hold the smaller man closely. Shaking these thoughts away, Misha knew he couldn't do what he so desperately wanted to do. Going to the waiting room where Scott no doubt sat and waited for the giant, was difficult to do since the boy was the last person he wanted to meet at the moment. The fact that the youth decided to arrive so late was an annoyance enough without him popping in suddenly with a last minute call. The mood was dark when he arrived at the room where Scott sat on the couch, knees drawn up to his chest with his stick like arms wrapped wound them like some sort of self hug as his head sat on top of them with a glum expression as he stared down at the red patterned carpet. Sensing the boy's distress, Misha calmly walked up to him and sat beside Scott on the sofa. Neither spoke for what seemed like hours. The silence had an odd calmness in it with a subtle twist of anxiety. It wasn't until the giant gave a deep sigh did the boy speak, not looking up from his view of the carpet.
"Sorry I came here so late." Apologized the youth. The giant turned his head and stared at the slumped form beside him with a soft yet irritated gaze. "It is alright." He lied, not wanting to throw his anger to his youngest friend. The boy, even though he was causing Misha anxiety just by being in the mansion, did not deserve the ire he felt. Setting a hand on the boy's back, he forced a smile. "What is with that face? It can't be that bad." He inquired with a soft laugh, thinking that maybe Scott was just having a typical teenager problem. Yet the youth didn't join in the laughter. Instead, he brought his head from his knees to stare at the fireplace in front of him. "I got kicked out."
The smile fell from Misha's face as he ceased laughing. What could Scott have done to force his loving and doting mother to kick him from his own house? "What happened?" There was a sneer, instantly lighting the youth's face as he bore his teeth to the floor before facing the giant with the nastiest look on his face that the giant had ever seen.
"She want's ta marry him!!" The boy roared, his face going red in his anger as he stood up and paced the room, waving his arms around angrily. "I mean, I guess I should have expected it eventually. She's been dating him for months now!" He stopped his pacing to turn and face Misha who just sat there quietly with his hands in his lap, a thoughtful look on his face. "But it's like she's betraying dad or somethin'! I know it's stupid but he hadn't been dead that long! She shouldn't be dating anyway!" With arms crossed, the boy sulked, staring at the nearby wall. The giant gave a hum. Scott's dad had died in a car crash ten years ago when he was only seven. The youth had been very close to his father and being the youngest of three, it was hard for him to get over the man's death while his brothers and mother where busy mourning, leaving him to grieve alone.
"Ten years is a long time, Scott. You know that your mother loved your father very much." sympathized the Giant with a soft tone. Misha knew all too well what it was like to lose a parent; his own father buried on a hill nearby, having died from a sickness. As he said this, the youth just grunted, the only sign the Russian had gotten that told him that the boy was listening. "But she's moved on. Not because she didn't care about your father, but because she wants to be happy." He paused and studied the boy before him intensely. "Don't you want her to be happy?"
"Of course I do!" Bellowed the teenager as he finally turned his head and glared at the giant. "Of course I want her happy!" Holding one arm out to his side, he let the other drop. "But can't she be happy with me and my brothers?! He children?! Why does she need another man in her life?!" Scott sighed and let the arm he had raised drop. "And what about my happiness?" After this, the boy went back to the couch, slumping on the furniture where he sat, his eyes shining with unshed tears. As he scanned over the words the teen had spoken, it finally clicked. "And you told your mother this?"
Scott nodded slowly. "Yeah..." he admitted bitterly, crossing his arms as he shifted uncomfortably. "I...Kind of said somethings that Ma didn't agree with." Misha hummed again, leaning back against the sofa and crossing his own arms as he crossed his legs, a trait that he had gotten from his father when the man was still alive when he would listen to Misha's mother about her problems. "And what were those? What did you say, Scott?" The boy remained silent as he sat there sulking. "Scott..." Warned the giant, sounding very much like a father scolding a child at that moment. His tone made the teen flinch and look away shamefully.
"I, sort of......Compared the man to a female dog and a small rodent." He paused, the silence telling the Russian that there was more. "And told Ma that she was a moron for tainting pa's memory." Looking to the giant sheepishly, he awaited the man's response. And response he got at Misha closed his eyes, groaning as he uncrossed his arms to rub his face exasperatedly. "Scott, you didn't?!" The giant begged, looking at the boy beside him with an abashed expression. The youth sputtered as he stood up quickly. "Yeah, I did!" He wailed, the tears he held in were now falling down his cheeks. "I know it wasn't the right thing to say! Ma and I got into an argument after I called ya. She wanted me ta apologize but I couldn't. I just couldn't!" His tears stung his eyes as he looked to the giant who sat there, expression softening. "The fight was just so bad! I told her that unless she declined the proposal than I never would speak ta her again and she kicked me out. Said I was being ungrateful." He gave a bitter hollow laugh as he wiped his eyes with his wrist.
Sniffing, Scott paced the room again. Misha said nothing as he listened to the boy rant. Having lost his anger, he felt only sympathy for his young friend. Scott was only seventeen and has a lot to learn. His mother remarrying was one of the challenges that Misha knew that Scott had to face on his own. After a while of pacing, the youth turned back to the giant, secretly glad that his friend was listening without a word. "He was there too, ya know. The entire time, looking smug. It burned me ta no end." He sniffed, his nose as red as the color around his year stained eyes. "He had the gall to look to Ma and say something about military school. I started yelling at him. He just kept on provoking me. I can't remember what I said, but next thing I know, I'm out on the streets." the youth slumped where he stood, finally finishing his rant.
Standing up, Misha went over to Scott and pulled his small thin frame to his own, hugging the teen. "I am sorry, Scott." the boy replied with another hollow laugh that was muffled by his face being pressed in the giant's body. "You have nothin' ta be sorry for." He brought his arms up and shoved himself away from the giant, a small smile adjourned his face. "Ma just needs time. She'll come around." Then he pause, losing his smile. "Can I stay here until then though? I have no where else ta go."
Misha gave no answer, his mind instantly going to the submissive that resided in the guest room. That was the room that Scott normally stayed in when he spent a few nights or so. He knew that if he said yes, the boy would go to that room instantly, having been more familiar with it. His eyes drifted to Scott, who stood there nervously, waiting for an answer from the giant. On the other hand, he couldn't let the boy out on the streets. It was much like Dell and Jane, who would be homeless by the end of the month. Which Misha felt, should call or visit them before that happens To see how they were doing after a couple of days. Looking down at the boy, he frowned. He'd need to give Scott a different room and work harder to keep Kitten a secret if he did allow him to stay at the mansion. But then again, if he really thought about it, Scott was an active teenager who would be outside playing sports, hang out with his other friends somewhere or be at school. There was a very little chance of the teenager staying inside the mansion at all hours of the day, let alone the week. This thought calmed the giant's pounding heart and he smiled.
"Of course you can." He said, finally. With this answer, Scott gave off a bright grin and almost ran to the room where the inservire played but was stopped by the giants hand that gripped the back of his shirt as he bolted. Noticing the grip the giant had on him, he looked behind him at his friend. "But." Misha drawled out, watching the boy's face dropping, expecting bad news. "You will need to use another room. The one you normally stay in is a mess at the moment."
As his shirt was released, Scott spun on his heel to face the giant, looking at him questioningly. "A mess? Why? Who else has been in there?" The giant opened his mouth to answer when a loud bang echoed above them and a faint shriek of pain followed after with quiet sobbing. Misha never got the chance to stop the boy again as his shock prevented him from moving for a few seconds, leaving Scott to dash out of the room and up the stairs to investigate where the noise came from. Cursing profoundly, The giant charged after the teen when he could move again, heart pounded in his ears as his fear feeding adrenaline through his veins. No! He refused to let Scott find Kitten! He couldn't have that! As he hurried after the boy, he mentally cursed himself for not being able to run any faster.
Reaching the floor, he caught sight of Scott gripping the doorknob tightly as he listened to the sounds of Kitten crying from the inside of the room. Rushing toward the teen, he cried out "Scott! No!" just as the youth turned the knob and opened the door, revealing the submissuve on the floor, crying and holding his makeshift toy to him as his forehead bled from hitting the corner of the nightstand beside the bed. Time seemed to slow as Kitten stopped his crying to stare fearfully at Scott who stared back in horror, standing frozen, ready to flee at any moment.
Misha, too, watched in horror as he positioned himself behind the teen, blocking the doorway, intending to keep him from running away. Scott gulped as he stared at the man before him on the floor. There was no question in his mind what his giant friend was harboring, the creature he was keeping in his mansion, in his room. Fearing the inservire, the worry for his friend, and the questioning doubt in his mind at the risk Misha has done. The man had broken the law. And by that same law, required Scott to turn him in to the authorities. But could he really do that to the man he looked up to?
"Misha," He stammered, eyes never leaving the frightened form of the submissive. "What is that thing doing here?" he asked, stammering as his heart began to beat wildly in his chest. "Why do you have it here?!" In a flash, the giant had not only closed and locked the door, but he grabbed the youth and pushed him to the farther back corner of the room between the bed and the bathroom, blocking his only exit. "He is not an it." He stated as calmly as he could despite the fear that tore at him from the inside. Kitten moved crawling on the floor to hide behind the giant and hug one of his legs that shook. "And he will not hurt you."
There was a disbelieving scoff from the teen who had his back pressed into the wall with his nails digging into the wallpaper. "Hurt me?! I'm not worried about it hurting me!" He cried, looking down at the man that was using the Russian as a shield. Frowning he snarled. "He!" roared the giant, clinching his hands into fists. The boy sputtered. "Whatever man!" His voice wavered at he watched the two cautiously as his body trembled. "You know the law, Misha! Anyone associating with those things are sentenced to death! You gave yourself a death wish man!" The anger on Misha's face softened slightly but his eyes remained locked on the youths.
"I am aware of that, Scott. I know what I am risking." He looked down at Kitten who held his toy to his mouth as he bit into it in hopes of quieting his whimpers. Rubbing the man's soft hair calmly, avoiding the bloody scrape on his forehead, Misha turned back to the boy. "Scott, please. I need you to keep this quiet."
The boy blinked. "Quiet?! You want me to keep this to myself?! What if you get found out?! It'll be me next! You just signed both of our death warrents."
"It is not like I will mention you if I ever was caught. And if you are somehow discovered, you can always say that I held you against your will until you agreed."
The teen gave him a hard look as he stiffened. "Like you arn't doing that now, huh?" Misha flinched, his fingers holding Kitten's soft locks of hair gently in his hand. The inservire seemed to purr at this but quickly went back to hiding behind his protectors legs. "Scott, you know I have no choice." He looked back down to the submissive who looked back up at him with wide, pleading eyes. "He needs me. If I hadn't of found him, he would have starved or killed by the IRC." Kitten calmed slightly as Misha's large hand rubbed his scalp soothingly. At this, the giant failed to notice Scott relax and stare at this abashed.
"This is the inservire that Dell mentioned isn't i-he." He corrected quickly after seeing the harsh look his friend sent him. "The one that had been lurking around his shop." The giant shrugged. Honestly, he never made that connection. He had been so lost in thoughts about how to care for Kitten that the conversation with Dell two nights prior to now was all but forgotten. "I am not sure." The giant admitted, watching the boy closely for any hostile movements. "That is a possibility about that." He sighed, as both of them slowly relaxed in that tense atmosphere.
"Scott...." Misha began, staring at the youth, begging. "Will you keep this to yourself?" The teen didn't answer as his gaze was fixated on the submissive, almost like he was silently blaming the poor creature for putting them in danger. Finally, he sighed and relaxed hopelessly. "Yeah, but Misha...If you're caught..." He didn't finish as he shook his head. He couldn't finish. The thought off seeing him stand in the crowed, watching the public hanging of not only the submissive, but the giant as well, it felt like a weight in his chest.
A hand on his shoulder had him staring into the understanding eyes of his giant friend. "I will be alright." the Russian chimed. "I will not take any risks." With a nod, Scott sighed. Scanning the Submissive who sat huddled in the spot he sat as he chewed on the rag toy, the teen found the sight to be humorous. Since Misha liked the creature, the baseball player figured he could learn to as well. With a smile he grinned cheekily at the giant. "So, am I still living here?" The sudden question had Misha laughing in disbelief ad relief.
Neither of the three men could sleep that night. With the giant calling his boss, he requested time off in hopes of getting Kitten used to the idea that Scott was going to be living with them for a while. It was strange for them, with the teen watching baseball to keep his mind from wondering, he pulled up a dining chair to the television while Kitten sat on the floor, a good distance away, curious about the show the youth had on. Hanging up his phone, a week off of work starting that Monday felt like a great burden was removed from his shoulders as he stepped into the television area to see Kitten glancing from the television to Scott, who began to cheer for his favorite team. Hearing the giant's heavy footsteps, Scott turned halfway in his seat.
"Hey, jumbo! The Dodgers are on! Pull up a seat." The boy called out happily, gaining the attention of the submissive who stared curiously. Giving a weary smile, he waved his hand. "I am afraid that I am too exhausted." He lied, still feeling stressed from their earlier situation. "I am going to lay down." He looked intensely at the two, an idea popping in his head. "Why don't you tell котёнок all about them? I am sure he is interested." Hearing his name, Kitten turned to Misha with a smile as he held up two fingers. "Ooh!" He chimed in happily as he heard the familiar word. This made the giant smile.
Scott, on the other hand, gave a doubtful look. "Tell him?" He pointed his thumb at Kitten. "I don't think he'd understand. What did you call him again?" Misha chuckled as he slipped his shirt off over his head. "I called him котёнок. In English, it means kitten." At this, with his shirt bunched in his hands,he laughed when he saw the youth scrunch his nose in disgust. "You call him a kitten? What happened when he finds out what that is? I doubt he's appreciate it later." At this, Kitten chirped happily as one of the players made a home run. Happily bouncing where he sat, the inservire pointed at the screen as he looked to Misha in a way that asked "Did you see that?!" This brought a grin to the Russian's face. "I saw it, котёнок. He was running very fast."
"Don't call him that!" Exclaimed Scott, who whined at the name Misha had given the man. "He needs to have a cool name. Something that he'd wear with pride!" Holding a fist up determinedly, he smirked. "Like Willie Keeler. One of the best Dogers hitters in 1872." The giant groaned as if the name pained him. "We are not naming him Willie, Scott. The name is trouble to itself." The was a snort from the boy.
"True that. But I was thinking of calling him Keeler. It sound's like a warped way of saying 'Killer'." This caused the giant to frown. Not liking the idea, he gave a blank stared to the boy who just stared back obliviously. "I mean," the teen continued as he stared at Kitten. "It's a great name for dogs, not that this guy is a mutt, mind you. I think he looks like a 'Killer.'" Scott grinned. "Ain't that right, Keeler?" to the giant's surprise, Kitten looked to Scott and chirped happily as he went back to the show. Smugly, the youth turned back to the giant as the man looked at the submissive like he was betrayed. "See, he likes it!"
Much to Misha's disapproval, that's how Kitten got the name Keeler.
Chapter 8: Secrets Discovered
This chapter will flip between Scott's view and Misha's view as each go about the day.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
"Yo! Wake up!" Misha jumped with a start at Scott's shout and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. Having fallen asleep in the middle of feeding Keeler, who had once been called Kitten, once the giant had shut his eyes, the inservire had wasted no time in messing the room up all over again. As he lowered his arms, he watched as the teen wrestle with the submissive, laughing as Keeler managed to pin him to the floor with his extra muscle that he had gained over the past few days. Cheering happily that he had won the game, Keeler laughed. Only when did the teen roll them over to pin the inservire down did the man squirm away and run off to hide under the table. Getting a good look at Scott, the giant had to bite his lip to keep from laughing. The boy's hair was a mess, his clothes were wrinkles, untidy and covered in stains, none of which Misha could identify of what they were, and his face was red with sweat dripping down his brow. As the boy wiped his brow, he dropped to the seat that was normally occupied by the submissive, who had removed himself from the couch to grab his octopus which, Misha frowned at, was now all chewed up and falling apart.
"Man," The boy beside him began as the Russian stood up and went off to clean the mess that Scott, no doubtingly, helped make. "He has a lot of energy." he laughed. As a thought came to his head, he swirled to face his friend as a grin flooded his face. "Ya know, we need to take him out somewhere! Let off some steam."
Misha snorted as he bent down and grabbed the bowl that once held today's breakfast. Holding the yellow plastic in his hands, he grumbled at the leftover oatmeal that once sat at the bottom of the bowl, now painted a small portion of the carpet. Standing to full height, he couldn't hide the glare he had cast at the boy irritatedly. "You know as well as I do that he can't leave this room. If he gets caught-" His remark was interrupted by Scott, who waved his hand nonchalantly. "Yeah. yeah. We both know that." The youth responded with a hefty sized sigh. "And I ain't talkin' about anywhere in town. There's an old baseball court that Ma used to take me to that was abandoned five years ago. No one goes there anymore, perfect to take this guy for a bit of exercise."
The offer was tempting. Keeler did have to get out of the house and run around so he would stop ruining the room that they all resided in. Misha's rooms had been clean for around the week and yet he stayed in the guest room with Scott and the submissive, mainly because he didn't honestly think the boy could handle caring for a man. And there was the diaper issue. There was only three left and the giant had to get to the store. Since Scott flat out refused to go shopping for diapers and the like because he deemed it "embarrassing", it turned out that he would eventually have to leave Keeler with the youth sometime.
It was as if the boy could read his mind. Not long as those few thoughts scraped his mind, did Scott grin and poke the giant's arm as he washed the dishes. "Look, Misha. It'll do him good and you won't have to stress about getting things done. I can watch Keeler for a while, I mean, how hard can it be? No different than it has been-"
In the back of his skull, Misha bitterly recalled the passed two weeks since the youth had moved in. All he did was keep Keeler entertained while the Russian did all the clean up and repairs by himself, all the while working and fixing problems around the mansion. "Very well." The words brushed by his lips so quietly, he was almost worried that the boy hadn't heard them, almost.
"-AW come on! I can care for him to-What?" Scott silenced himself in mid protest. Bewildered at what he had heard, grabbing the giant's shirt. "Really? I can?"
Drying his hands on the towel that hung on the stove, he patted the youth's shoulder with a knowing smirk. "Da. After a few lessons. You can't do this blind." This had the boy staring up at the giant puzzled, letting the shirt slip from his fingers that had suddenly gone lax. "Blind?" He asked softly, still mentally blown that he had finally gotten his way. For the amount of time he had known Misha, there was very little the large man would let him do that required any sort of work and effort if it was in the Russian's power to deny him.
Just as Misha opened his mouth to reply, there was an all too familiar shout from the inservire in the next room, bringing an evil grin to his face, making the boy before him shiver. "First lesson," He began, grabbing the teen's arm and dragging him to the living area and grabbing the diaper bag that sat on the dresser as they passed by it. "Changing." It would be cruel to admit it, but it was sadly true, Misha loved how pale the boy went as he was being forcefully dragged to the submissive, who obediantly rolled on his back, having given up on the fight with Misha when it came to the diapers forced on him.
The man had tried to hide, he really did. But Misha always caught him. Even when Scott had come around, the youth would help Misha in hunting Keeler down. Hiding and running did no good. Fascinatingly enough, the submissive found how fast the process went if he didn't fuss, hide, or fight. He's be back on his feet before he knew it and it pleased him so much.
After changing the inservire and putting him into a new shirt, the diaper bag was thrown over Misha's large shoulders. Scot had turned a nice shade of green and looking as if he regretted not shopping instead. Heading out into the hallway, there was a curse from the boy as Keeler hopped and chirped excitedly. At the moment, the noise from the submissive didn't concern the giant. Since his room had gotten cleaned, there were no need for the maids to be up on the second floor.
"Tell me again. Why is he wearing this anyway? I mean, what is he? a dog?" Stopping in his tracks, Misha turned to look back at the teen who was holding the end of the leash that was attached to an over sized child holster. Scott had his heels digging in the floor carpet to keep from being dragged off by an overexcited submissive who was chirping and running around. The man would run forward, fighting against the leash that held onto his holster without release, making the man groan when he couldn't get any further before giving in and running to the railing that signaled the approaching stairs that Misha had chased the boy up once before. Scott, on the other hand was having a difficult time to keep the leash in his hands, hands that were now red and raw from the leash rubbing against the skin, wrist also red from the loop wrapped around it.
"That is for little children, not dogs, Scott. And he is wearing it because he would run off if we didn't." He informed, adjusting the bad that hung from his shoulder, looking in it to make sure that they had enough supplies, including Keeler's chewed up octopus. The submissive chose that moment to jolt forward in hopes of getting free from the contraption that held him back. Gripping the leas tightly, Scott strained, growling in the process to keep a hold of the object, pulling back so he wouldn't be dragged along. When Keeler sat on the floor with a huff, the youth allowed himself to relax, face red from the strain. "Children...Yeah...Why's it so big anyway? I don't think kids get this big."
Misha just thew a knowing at his young friend, continuing on, followed by Scott, who struggled against the submissive who bounded when the giant began to walk away. The Russian didn't say anything after that, not telling him that the leash was once for Misha himself when he was just a toddler. The rest of the way to the SUV was uneventful other than Scott having to annoy Blair away, happily shoving the leash in the giants hands to run off cheerfully to do his job. Keeler didn't give Misha much trouble. If anything, the inservire was more content around the giant rather than the teen who was keeping him back before. The few moments he did try to get away were futile. Keeler's strength was nothing compared to the giant who held him back. Having more strength than most in LunaWood. With Blair gone and Scott back in their party, they made it to the vehicle. It was difficult, to say the least, to get Keeler in the car. It wasn't until Misha and Scott both climbed in did he hesitatingly follow in, giving Scott enough time to hop out and close him in.
The inservire was not happy. The entire ride consisted of him yelling, screaming, and crying before he slowly relaxed and fell asleep in the back seat. Just this once, Misha hadn't forced a seat belt on the man, believing that would stress the submissive out more than he already was. The ride was about thirty minutes but to the giant's pleasant surprise, the ride was worth it. The driveway was surrounded by foliage and slightly difficult to find but with the help of the youth beside him, he found it. Putting the SUV in park, he hopped out to scan the area. It was an old field that still held signs of it's passed, the bleachers and the areas where the players would sit were easily spotted despite the vines and leaves that covered them. The metal chain fence that surrounded the entire field were also covered in vines and leaves. As he followed along the fence, he could see thick trees and bushes blocked the view of the field from the road. Not a peep from the road and the cars that drove on it reached the area, which spoke how far from the asphalt the place was.
"Ya done, Private eye Inspector?" Scott questioned as he appeared beside the giant, leash in hand and with a smug grin. Keeler trailed behind him tiredly but looking around the new area, excited to run around. Misha could only nod, pleased. Scott was right, this area was perfect for the inservire to let loose all his energy. Despite it being thirty minutes away from town, it would be the best spot for the man. "It is perfect. You can let him go now." He stated with bright eyes as the boy continued to grin as he unlatched the leash, watching as the man took off like a bolt with his new found freedom in the new area, stopping occasionally to make sure he hadn't been left, only to run around once again fully assured that he wasn't abandoned. He would do tricks that Misha never knew he was capable of doing. Somersaults, flips and twists, Keeler did them all with such grace, it was like they had been drilled into him. Fully satisfied that he could get away with the behavior, he would lay on the grass and roll around, laughing as leaves and grass brushed his bare skin. After watching the amusing act, Misha turned back to the youth beside him, who was also watching. Poking the boy to catch his eye, he handed the bag to him before looking back to the inservire who gave him no notice with a worried glance.
"Don't worry, Misha." Scott assured, pinching the giants arm. "I'm here with him. What could happen?" Misha looked at him blandly, suddenly regretting this decision.
Eventually he did leave, making that thirty minute drive back to town. Doing very little other than driving, he turned on the radio, switching from station, hearing mostly static as he came across a familiar station.
"-would feel pity for those commonly known as inservire. Those people are fools to believe such blasphemy that those beasts could be tamed and trained to be one of us. Of course you could teach them to mimic and behave in normal behavior, but they are not people. Inservire are mindless animals that were created by God for punishment for their past sins. For attacking their brothers and sisters. In the Imortam tome, it says clearly that in a past life, the animals were once human, attacking gays, women, children, for being who they are. They are living with their sins, to be mindless. The only relief they have is death, which is a pity for those who do not understand, we are doing the monsters a fav-"
Misha switched stations with a bitter taste in his mouth. The words of the Prophet sickened him. He never believed those words but there are many in town that did, and would waste not time in ridding the world of innocent humans like Keeler, whose only crime was to be born in a society like this. He kept flipping through stations, hoping to flush away the nasty words that touched his ears moments before.
Town seemed erily quiet as he drove in. It was like the place had no life in it. But that was no surprise on this day. It was a church day. There were very few who remained home from church, Misha being one of them. He only went when it was necessary, which was more often than he liked it to be. He was coming upon Dell's shop, spotting a red Ford in the driveway. He didn't recognize it. Normally this wouldn't concern the giant but when he saw the shop's door open with the "Closed" sign swinging on the door. Pulling to the curb, Misha parked the SUV and climbed out, locking it as he did so. He would admit, he was worried but only a little. Very few would tangle with a man of his size and a robber would be no different, with a gun or none. He strode through the doorway and around the shop, keeping his eyes steeled as he hunted for the burglar. The further in he went, the more boxes he found, stacked on top of each other and taped closed as he passed them. His heart felt heavy. It was a depressing sight. He never thought that Dell would leave the building. It never seemed right. The fact the man owed so much money didn't help how he felt. There was no way that the Texan would accept money. Misha learned that long ago.
"Where are you?" The giant growled as he turned a corner, almost running into Jane, Dell's lover, who held up a small, taped up box that he then set on the counter, not looking even remotely upset or concern that Misha had appeared from around the corner, returning to packing up the items in the building. Now Misha felt foolish as he scratched at his arm and the back of his neck. "Sorry, Jane. Did not know it was you." He apologized, watching the American. Jane Doe was a nicely built man who was gruff in both appearance and vocal wise. The man looked like a very stereotypical soldier with his body and buzzed haircut. Hair, which was always covered. The man always wore hats that went down over his eyes that it was a surprise that he could see anything. Today, Jane was wearing his orange Jack-o-lantern beanie on that grinned with black painted triangles. Clothes wise, Jane wore a white tank top and blue navy pants that were held up by a belt and hugged his legs and waist nicely. Army boots tied tightly to his feet and banged noisily across the floor as he walked.
Jane didn't say anything to him but made enough time to half turn to Misha and nod before going back to packing, taking care to wrap glass cups in newspaper. There was a lot about Jane that made Misha feel like he was walking on eggshells. The man didn't speak much and when he did, he was obnoxiously loud. The Russian had once asked Dell if Jane was deaf but the Texan only grin and stated that Jane could hear more than what people wanted him too. Also, when he did speak. Jane would often pause as if searching for the words he wanted. This worried the giant at times. The man wasn't stupid, nor was he foreign. So why did he have to think about his words? That was another question he had asked Dell. But the toymaker just went pale and played it off with a joke, saying that Jane often got lost in thought before changing the conversation entirely with the offer off Misha's favorite dish that he had made earlier that day. Misha took care and tried to not be offended by the Texans lies. He knew there was something off but the man was one of his closest friends that he chose not to push, for both of Dell and Jane's sakes.
But now that he was alone with the army man, he began to spot things he normally wouldn't when the other American was around. The facial hair wasn't real hair, he notice as Jane wiped some away with a sweaty palm by mistake, leaving a pure bare spot on the side of his chin and leaving his hand dark and smudged with the makeup that he rubbed off. Sitting on a nearby stool, Misha just kept watch on the American as he taped the box up and setting it on top with the others and grabbing another box to resume his work.
"So, you got a new car?" His question was innocent enough other than the fact that the car looked bright and new. Jane halted in his movements as if to ponder the words spoken to him. "Dells." He stated, returning to his work, back to the giant Russian that sat and observed him. "Going to sell it. Need money." Misha just hummed at this and closed his eyes as he came to realize what he had discovered from his past experiences with Jane and Dell. All the questions and behavior made scene now. "Oh Dell." he thought with a hand to his brow, sorrow flooded him. "You've been in the same boat I'm in much longer , haven't you?" It was then, a car engine echoed in the parking lot died, followed by a car door opening and slamming closed with the follow of a quiet "Shit!" as Misha's car had been spotted. The giant made no noise as Dell's figure appeared right in the doorway.
It was clear to the teen that Keeler was not happy about the lack of Misha. The giant had only had been gone around twenty minutes when the submissive noticed he was gone. Scott being the only one else there apparently didn't ease the inservire's mind as he bawled out, yelling out "Ooh!" hoping that the warped word would bring Misha back to praise him like he usually did. But as the giant made no appearance, Keeler cried out with tears streaming down his face and dripping off his chin. Panicking, Scott opened the bag and shifted through it, hoping there was something he could use to calm the man down. He pulled out the rag that the submissive seemed so fond of and forced a smile as he sat beside the crying man and held the rag in front of Keeler's face.
"Hey," He whispered with a fake cheeriness that he had often heard the French bastard say to his mother when she was sad. The thought of his Ma brought tears to his eyes and the thought of that man that wanted to marry her burned his gut, but he squashed the feelings and wiggled the rag. "Look. It's Squiddy!" He had no idea where the name came from, but it caught the inservire's attention and the man stopped sobbing to stare from the rag to the teen. "Skiddy?" Relief flooded his body and pride. Out of all his time being around the man, Keeler couldn't say anything but "Ooh." The fact that he, Scott, had just taught him a new word felt amazing. Grabbing onto the moment, he leaned forward and wiggled the rag again, making the legs of if shake.
"Yeah, Squiddy. See?" He wiggled it up to poke Keeler's neck, making the submissive laugh and squeal as the cloth tickled his neck, setting his hand there to keep Scott from doing it again, he giggled as the youth wiggled it again in a mock attempt to tease him. "Squiddy wants to play." The youth chortled as he stood up and waved it out of Keeler's reached when he went to grab it. Getting an irritated groan from the submissive, he tutted, waving a finger. "No, no." He chided. "You have to catch it first." And with that, he jogged off, wiggling the rag.
Now, even though Keeler knew very little about verbal language, he could tell when he was being teased and when someone wanted to play. Smiling, he chased after the small boy that his protector took in. Determined to catch the toy that the giant gave him, he momentarily forgot why he was so upset to begin with. This game was fun. Very much like the wrestling game he played with earlier with the teen. Running around the grassy area with the smaller man pleased him as he could finally let off all that energy that had built up. Keeler liked it here. He liked running around and playing in the grass. It was a lot less dangerous like his life before his protector brought him to that small space and introduced to him all those interesting things like the stuff he wore and the toy he played with. The big flat square was his favorite so far, it showed many things. Scary things and fun things. Keeler didn't like the scary ones. They could hurt you. Luckily the giant was there to chase them away. He was glad he went with the man. At least he didn't try to hurt him.
It was like a stare down when Dell appeared. It wasn't until the man closed the door and locked it without taking his eyes from the giant. Grinning despite how pale and nervous he had gotten, Dell had held his arms out wide in an offer for a hug. The clattering of items fell to the ground as Jane dropped them to run into those arms. Dell looked annoyed but sighed and hugged his lover tightly, looking over the man's shoulder so see Misha's sorrowful look. "Ya know don't ya?" the giant just nodded. This just made Dell's smile fall as he held the man in his arms tighter and shoved his face in Jane's shoulder. After a few moments, he looked up from his lovers skin and back to the giant that remained seated. "How long do I have?" the Texan questioned as tears leaked out from behind his goggles and his hands gripped Jane's shirt tightly.
Misha sighed and crossed his legs, looking him in the eyes. "All the time in the world. I'm not telling anyone." The sharp intake of breath followed Dell's words as he pulled away from Jane to stomp up to Misha and grab his shirt with both hands. Pulling him forward, Dell's nose flared as a scowl crossed his features. "Yeah, you are! Anyone with any sense would!" The Russian couldn't stop the snort that came from him. "I would be a hypocrite to turn you in." This shocked the Texan slightly as the man wasn't sure of what he had just heard. "Run that by me again, partner."
He wasted no time. Telling Dell his story after what he discovered about Jane felt like a relief to him. To know that he wasn't alone when it came to housing a inservire. Not once had the American interrupted or butted in. Throughout this, Jane just went back to boxing objects like nothing was wrong. But it was clear to anyone who looked his way, he knew exactly what the problem was and he had stiffened up, secretly listening in to this story that Misha was telling.
As he finished his story, he could see Dell relax to the point where he was hiding his face in his hands and using the counter to support his weight as he bent down and leaned on it. It wasn't until he had gotten his bearings did he face the giant again. "I see..." He muttered. "Keeler, That sounds like something Scott would call him." the toymaker chuckled out weakly. Misha gave his own soft chuckle. "Yes. He even got Keeler to agree to the name. I was just content with calling him Kitten."
Dell snorted in good humor, grinning from ear to ear as he went in his memories when he found Jane. "The boy was right though." He pointed out, pulling over another stool and placed himself on it, getting comfortable, he continued. "The man defiantly wouldn't take kind to being called that when he found out what that meant. Take Jane for example. I used to call him Sally, since he looked like it with his long hair." He pointed to the other American who just glared at the name. Dell saw this and laughed. "It wasn't long until he figured out that the name I gave him was a woman's name. He insisted I call him Jane though."
Misha blinked as he tried to hide his smile. "But Jane is a-"
"Not necessarily." The toymaker butted in. "Names in the south are a bit different. Some men have names that sound feminine. One of my University professors there was named Jodie. I knew this since I live in the south but most of the people there were from the north and didn't know. Imagine their confusion when the professor ended up being a guy." He stretched and groaned. "You were saying that he's learning fast?" The giant nodded, blinking at the sudden topic change. "Da. He is also becoming very active. Which makes it hard to change him. At least no he lets me put the diapers on him without much of a fuss."
Dell nodded in agreement, looking lost in thought. "I know what you mean. At least you have strength on your side. Jane here is stronger than me and I couldn't get the darn things on him half the time. The man could punch like a mule." His gloved hand rubbed his lower jaw in memory. "Had to toilet train him before I did anything else."
"Know how I can do that? I have to admit, I am clueless about it."
The Texan nodded. "I have a few things that I used for Jane. Toys books, etc. Keeps him entertained and helps him learn. Plus, you can read to him. I find that helps a lot when you do that. Follow me."
WAHH! Another chapter! *falls onto the ground*
Chapter 9: Help from Dell, Keeler runs off
"Few things" as Dell had put it, turned out to be an entire storage room full of books, toys, and the like that he had used for Jane back before the man had managed to camouflage into this quiet town. It was a wonder that, with the lack of paperwork or identification Jane had, he had made it to get a license at all. As he dug through a box that Dell had set in front of him to go through, Misha had voiced his concerns and just got a wheezy laugh in return. "It hadn't been easy." The Texan stated bluntly as he dragged a box half his size from behind the closet stack. "Had to pull a lot of strings and make a lot of connections to make the papers sound legit." As the smaller man lifted the box, he resumed speaking. As he limped over to the giant with his luggage. "Had to fight to get in touch with Tavish. Ever since he became the CEO of his company, it's been hard to get hide or hair close to him without all of his lackeys trailing behind." Setting the box down, he flopped to the ground, crossing one leg under him as he relaxed on the wooden flooring of the room.
The storage was musty and damp from water damage it had sustained months ago. The money he used to repair what he could was added to the amount he now owed the bank, not having any insurance on the place. Looking down as his hand knocked a cardboard book out of the box, he sniffed, breathing in the dampness. Grabbing a random item, he lifted it out and smiled, seeing a rubber duck. "That was one of Jane's favorites." The toymaker interrupted which a chuckle, leaning back to relax on his arms. "He had a strange fascination with the color yellow." Misha said nothing. Keeler didn't have a color he was keen on at the moment, then again, most of what he saw was white, yellow, blue, tan, red, and brown, also with the occasional color of silver from the metal utensils.
"How did you get Jane to drive?" He asked, staring at the toy in his hand as he turned it around to examine every area of the object. "Why? Planning to get yours behind the wheel?" Joked the American before he became all stoic and serious, looking down at the box that sat at the end of the giant's knees. "It wasn't easy. He panicked at first. Took him out back in the dust area. Ya know? Where all the dirt bike racing is held during the fair." Leaning forward and off his arms, he brought his hands to rest in his lap as he sighed, staring off into space, lost in a memory. "Harder to teach a inservire than a child. A kid at least knows what you're saying and knows what can hurt them for the most part." He took a deep inhale and released it shakily. "I lost my temper at Jane one night and he ran off, bare as the day I found him. People caught sight of him and called the IRC." Dell's voice began to shake as he brought his gloved hand to cover his eyes.
"If I hadn't of convened them that he was mentally incapacitated, I might have lost him. Luckily I had managed to get a hold of Tavish and he approved Jane's documents. That morning." As Misha's eyes left the toy, he peeked over at the smaller man who sat there, sniffling on the dirty floor at the memory he was apparently experiencing. It was a little uncomfortable to experience the Texan crying. Dell was the strongest person he knew when it came to emotions. To see him break down like this felt as if he had stumbled upon a Pandoras box, something to never have been seen or known about.
"Tell me how you found him." He allowed himself to ask, more or less to fill his curiosity on how Jane had come to be with the toymaker. A laugh shuttered quietly from between Dell's sobs as his hand left his face to reveal a weak grin. "Was that a demand or a question?" the American asked as he wiped the tears away with both hands, giving another sniff as he dragged his hands down his cheeks to hang at his jaw for a few seconds before falling back into his lap. Looking to the ceiling, he gave a shuddering breath of air. "Well..." He started, biting his lip. "If I remember correctly, it was around two years ago." his voice broke with each word he had uttered past his lips. One of the hands that he had resting in his lap came up to grab the upper part of his opposite arm unconsciously. "I ran him over." his silent confession caused Misha to lower the duck back to the box, letting it fall and clatter amongst the other objects occupying the cardboard. His face showed only interest and curiosity as he leaned forward with his own hands in his lap.
The sudden unexpected bark of a laugh from the toymaker startled the giant after a few minutes of silence. Dell's free hand came up and covered his mouth. "I shouldn't laugh at this." he chided to himself. "The poor bastard was so terrified and hurt. I guess in the end, my heart outweighed logic." The hand on his mouth fell back near his crotch as the one on his arm came to rub the nape of his neck. "It was like I was drawn to him, all helpless and screaming in fury at my face like a wild animal."
"He was beautiful." The giant butted in, remembering when he found Keeler two weeks ago, rather than Jane, like Dell had been speaking about. It was like the two had a strange connection. A lost and frightened man in the middle of town, hunted simply for trying to survive. There was a noise from the Texan in which had Misha looking over at him in a whole new light. The smaller man was relaxed, hands in his crossed legs and a smile so warm that you could feel how at peace he was as the man once again, drifted back into his memories. "Yeah." agreed the toymaker. "They always are, aren't they?" That last question seemed ominous, the way he had said it, like there was something he wasn't saying, leaving the giant to peer at him quizzically. Halfway throughout the conversation, Jane quietly stepped into the room with a large empty box, just big enough for Misha to carry it without problems no matter how heavy it was. The man glanced from his lover to the giant and with a loud irritated grunt, he dropped the box where he stood, letting it slam loudly, the noise echoing and bouncing off the stacked boxes nearby, snapping the two out of their foreign peace.
Dell had the decency to jump at the noise and half turned to face his lover with a glare. "Damn it, Jane!" the toymaker snapped as he gripped his chest before he stood to his feet with a grunt. "Why'd you have to do that for?!" His gaze landed on the box the man had brought. "And what's this for?" Jane shrugged nonchalantly as he shoved his hands in his pants pockets and leaned against the wall nearby. "To carry stuff." He voiced gruffly, like what Dell had asked was trivial. The Texan's mood lightened as realization dawned on him. Removing his arm from his chest, he grumbled. "Good thinking. Misha will, indeed, need that." Stretching his limps, he groaned. "Why don't ya go finish packing what you can today. I'm going to stay and help this guy." The army man's only response was to nod before he brought Dell in his arms and kissed him lightly on the lips, eyes landing on Misha as if he was making a claim. The action felt intimate and the Russian couldn't help but look away with a red face, thoughts of Keeler as he should have been flashing briefly through his head, causing him to shake his head in confusion at what he had just thought. The smaller man was oblivious to his mates protectiveness and traced Jane's jaw as he broke the kiss. Stepping out of the taller man's hold, he rubbed Jane's face tenderly.
"Ya goof." Dell snickered with a smirk; pulling away. "Get going. We have a lot of work to do." Jane obeyed, grumbling as he left but a wolfish grin on his face as he did so. As the army man departed, Dell sighed contently; sitting back down where he had been before. "That man I swear." But there was no accusation in his voice as he slumped where he sat. Misha went back to sorting through the things in the box. This gave Dell the invitation to continue. "Anyway, off of me and Jane. I know you have questions. You'd be stupid not to. What do you want to know."
Pleased to be off on a conversation away from Dell and Jane, he grinned, gratefully. "Where do I start?" he quipped lightly, hearing the man laugh in response. "The beginning would be a good start." The American joked back, pointing at him as he spoke. The giant hummed, rummaging though the box and pulled out a baby bottle. "I need to toilet train him. How did you manage it with Jane?"
This question caused Dell to grimice and flinch. "Jane was a special case. The man, once he learned what a toilet was used for, he insisted on learning how to use it, especially since I use it rather than diapers." The toymaker shuddered in horror. "Let's just say, he was overeager to learn. You don't want to teach yours how I taught Jane." He paused to tap his chin lightly, eyes looking to the sky as he thought. "Does your fella do anything to alert you of needing to go? Typically there are signs so you can rush him to the toilet if need be."
To be honest, Misha never paid any attention. He was normally busy with work or cleaning after the inservire to notice any signs of having to go to the bathroom. All he knew was that if Keeler needed a change, he would cry out and roll on his back, waiting for the giant to come and take care of him. If the Russian hadn't heard him, or was too slow to react, the submissive had a tendency of crawling to him and falling into his lap with his stomach neatly set on the giant's legs until he moved to take care of his problem. Apparently, with how Dell was glancing at him, the look on Misha's face told it all. The man let out an agonized groan. "Mishaaaaa!" Never before had the Russian heard the Texan whine as he did now.
"Okay. Lesson one: Learn the signs." the man commanded, holding out his index finger. "When you learn that, then you can move on to step two: Which is introducing him to the toilet. Does he know what it looks like, sounds like, even feels like?" Shaking his head negatively, Misha felt like he was being scolded by his mother. With the shake of his head, Dell grumbled. "Look, if he doesn't know anything about it, he'll panic and freak out. He needs to know it won't hurt him or all your work will be wasted." Pausing, the toymaker inhaled. "Look. Here's what you can do. Sort through the box while we do this. It'll be quicker."
This was an experience that the teen never wanted to live. Kneeling on the grass while holding a diaper in his hand was one thing. But when the man he was supposed to be changing had run off after Scott had taken the old one off, was another all together. Never in a million years had the youth ever imagined he'd be putting a diaper on a man older than him. It sort of left a scar on the boys mind. One minute, Keeler and him were having a great time, running around with the rag octopus when the man gave a disgusted expression, cried out and promptly fell to the ground on his back, looking over at the boy expectantly. Much to his surprise and relief, the diaper was clean and empty. The downside was that the submissive had put on a rouse to escape the clutches of the powdered diaper and was now on the other end of the field with only Misha's oversize red shirt as he sprinted around the fence. It was only when Scott had gotten his bearings did the events click in his brain and he stood up, glaring at the inservire as he held tightly to a unused diaper. Oh that was it. That innocent smile seemed to mock him. Oh, the teen wasn't fooled by those sweet eyes that Misha seemed to fall for.
"Koot!" Keeler cried from where he stood, cupping his hands around his mouth. Scott's eyebrow twitched. The submissive had started calling him that when he discovered the letter 'K' earlier when he and the youth had been jogging and tumbling around. "Koot!"
"That's it!" Howled the teen, holding the diaper in the air threateningly. "You are getting in ta this thing even if I have ta force ya!" And with that, he flew across the feild, feeling the wind brush passed his head in a gentle caress as his legs zoomed so fast that if anyone saw them, they looked like a blur. The smell of dirt and grass filled his nose as he kicked up the ground, charging toward the inservire at an amazing speed. Sensing that he was the target for this new kind of game, Keeler sped off as he raced around the fence, laughing crazily, feeling his heart pound at the fun he was having. The open space, bright sky and the cooling breeze encouraged him. He never wanted to go back to that small space that his protector held him in. Or at least, he wanted to be here a bit longer.
As the submissive ran from Scott, he failed to look back. Keeler never saw the teen trip and land with his face skidding across the ground. He never saw the boy lay motionless in the grass with the diaper flying from his hand to land on the patch of dirt beside him. All he knew was that he saw an opening through this strange metal barrier, and his curiosity got the better of him as he slipped through, vanishing in the foliage.
Scott's face ached as he pushed his upper half off the ground, mouth bleeding from where he lost a tooth from his fall and feeling the pain of his skin being scraped against the rocks and blades of grass. It didn't take him long to realize how quiet the area had become and he quickly got to his feet and scan the entire field, running around and calling Keeler's name, forgetting all about the diaper he had dropped. The youth was in a state of panic as he pushed apart every bush, patch of vines and hanging branches of nearby trees. The man was nowhere to be found. Whimpering his fear, he ran back to retreave the diaper back that lay on the grass when he spotted the fence gate, wide open and with a piece of red fabric that once had been apart of the shirt Keeler was wearing. Dumping the bag to the ground, he ran out the gate, shouting out curses to Misha for not closing the gate like the youth had commanded he do before he left while they were in the car.
"Bless you." Dell said after the giant had sneezed. Nodding his thanks, Misha rubbed his nose along his sleeve, a habit he had while he was growing up. Satisfied that his nose wasn't running, he grabbed a purple stuffed rabbit from the box. "What about this?" He inquired, wiggling the rabbit.
"Ah, ya don't want that. Jane's been driving himself crazy, hunting for that for years. I better set it out for him to find. Plum forgot it was here."
"And this?" a book about a yellow duck this time. Made of thick cardboard, it was the perfect baby's toy. Dell nodded. "Yeah, we don't use that anymore. Rememeber, when you're training him, reading to him sometimes helps."
He had been searching as far around the baseball field as he dared. Having nothing to go by as to where Keeler would have run off to, he called out to the man, hoping to hear a answer. Nothing. Groaning sadly, he stepped over a log, only to trip and land in a small creak on the other side, landing butt first, getting his butt all wet from the cold water he fell it. He bit and shouted his anger as he stood, walking funny caused by the effects of wet jeans. Scanning the area he was, he called for Keeler again, only hearing birds call back. The area wasn't a forest but it had a good amount of plant and animal life that it could almost be categorized as such. Almost. Scott had no idea how long he trecked through the woods, begging that he was going the way that the inservire had.
After about an hour into the woods, he was beginning to doubt the area he was heading when he heard crying and a soft "Koot." Call out to him with such sadness and desperation that it broke his heart. Feeling the tug in his chest at the broken voice, he ran to where he thought he had heard Keeler's voice.
"Keeler!" He called out desperately. "C'mon man, keep yelling out to me!" The submissive must have heard him for there was a more hopeful cry of "Koot!" which sounded a lot closer. The voice called him over and over, fueling his legs as he ran, only to stop at a fallen tree, where, right at the base, sat Keeler, weeping as he curled into a ball and his shirt in tatters and covered in dirt. The man was filthy, but that didn't keep the youth from running over and grabbing a hold of the shivering form of the frightened man, who held on even tighter as he cried in the teen's shirt, yelling his name for Scott over and over in relief. Shoving his face in what little hair the Submissive had left from Misha's handiwork, he sighed in the dirty locks.
"Don't you run away again!" He yelled angrily, Pulling the sobbing man away from him, with one hand on Keeler's arm, he waved a finger at the submissive. "Do you know what would have happened if I hadn't of found you?! You could have been hurt!" He glared. "I have half a mind ta-" He stopped there, overcome with shock at how much he sounded like his Ma right then and there. How many times has it been for the past few years, did his mother yell that at him for running off? Now here he was, scolding someone for doing what he had done as a child. Tears weld in his eyes at the thought of his mother but he brushed them away. He couldn't go back. Obviously his mother thought her fiance was more important than her son so why should he care. Looking at the man who stared back at him with a sorrow felt eyes, Scott sighed and blinked calmly.
"Don't do that again." The order was deathly quiet and as much as a shock as it was, Keeler nodded, as if he had understood. Oh sure, he didn't know what the boy was saying, but there was a good chance of him understanding the situation and the meaning behind those words. It didn't satisfy the youth, but it was better than nothing. Wrapping his arms around the man in a hug, he lifted Keeler to his feet. "Lets go back now." and with that, he led the inservire back to the field.
Chapter 10: The Riot
I had a better written version a few days ago but my browser decided to be stupid and exited this page, deleting the chapter all together so I had to rewrite from memory which was a pain. I hope you like it.
He had been standing in a dark room silently, sensing nothing, seeing nothing, tasting nothing, hearing NOTHING. Yet he felt something. Pain. Misha hurt everywhere on his body. Standing was painful for him as he stood in that spotlight that blinded him. His chest hurt as his heart beat slowly. With each beat, pain throbbed through his veins and it took all he could not to vocalize his pain aloud. Blinking, he found himself in another area, this time, laying down on what looked like an operating table, a strange gun hovered over him that sent a red beam down onto him. The room was cold and resembled an infirmary, x-ray images on a white light that hung on the wall to reveal a man's ribcage. All his senses came back to him in a rush that it made him dizzy, yet he felt paralyzed as he lay there on the operating table. "Ah, you are awake." He heard, and as he turned his head to view the man, he gasped. There stood none other than Keeler, but oddly dressed. His hair was neat on his head and graying as small circular glasses sat on his face, showing off his strong, handsome features. The outfit he wore was a long medic's coat with a red tie neatly tucked in a white dress shirt that was barely visible passed his coat. Brown pants and black boots covered his lower half and as he held up his blood stained red gloves, he gave a dark grin, rubbing his hands together that squished with the fresh blood on them.
"Keeler." He found himself gasping out horrified at the sight before him. The sight of the man who once had been cowing at his legs, now stood before him as a well dressed doctor with a dark look and feel about him that he could not recognize. The man gave a laugh as he nonchalantly wiped his hands on his coat, leaving blood stains along his front as he did so. "Ja, mein camarade. It is me." He responded, stepping up to the giant's side. Grabbing Misha's hand he gave a soft smile. "Do not worry, mein leibe." He cooed as a dove flew from above to rest on his shoulder, looking down at the giant man as it cooed, twisting its blood stained head. "The surgery will be over soon. The pain will be gone."
Misha opened his mouth, flabbergasted and was about to ask what Keeler had meant when the bird flew from the submissives shoulder and on the giants stomach, or what should have been. Instead of the mound of flesh that had once been his stomach, was now an open ribcage and guts open to the world. He opened his mouth and screamed.
Misha woke with a start, nearly falling out of the chair he found himself in. Dell, who had been stuffing clothes in the box for Misha to take with him, looked up from where he knelt on the floor. “Ya alright, Misha?” he voiced his concern. “You look like you saw a ghost.”
“What happened?” Misha grumbled as he rubbed his face, getting what sleep he could from his eyes, turning to see Jane standing beside him with a mug of coffee in his hands, holding it out for the giant to take it in which he did gratefully. Giving his thanks, the giant sipped the steaming liquid slowly as to not burn himself. The man just nodded before leaving the room without a word. Dell stood up, brushing what dirt and dust his on his hands, on his overalls. “Ya fell asleep while packing.” The Texan supplied. Rubbing his hands together, frowning at how dry and cracked they were. “So Jane and I set you in my granddaddy's chair seeing that it was more comfortable than the floor.” Once again, the Russian announced his thanks as he took another sip of his drink, pleased at the warmth it gave him.
It was then that the storage room door was slammed open to reveal Jane, who held a blank expression as he stood up with discipline. Dell jumped at the noise and turned with a flash. “Jane! What is wrong with you today?!” He exclaimed, hand going to his chest once again. The Texan's lover didn't respond to the question thrown at him. Instead, the man stiffened. “They're doing it again.” He growled out with a snarl as he turned and left the room. Going pale, Dell chased after him, stopping only to say, “I'll be right back, Misha.”
With a frown, the giant finished his drink and set the glass on the floor as he got up and left the room to step in the shop, hearing a loud commotion and glass shattering from outside as he stepped in the room. Looking over near the door, Jane and Dell were both looking through the blinds with care, staring at whatever was going outside. Following their lead with curiosity, he pulled the blinds away slightly, he peeked out and stared in horror. There was around forty men and woman, ages rounding from adult to teenager. They wore black suits that covered them from head to toe, holding what weapons they could get their hands on other than guns.
Ganging up on people, they would shout words at them that Misha couldn't decipher through the glass. The same people were also running around and vandalizing people's property, including the giants SUV which now was dented, scratched, and with windows and mirrors broken. “What's happening out there?” He asked, watching as three of the people outside sprayed the words on Jane's car “Inservire Hater” which was funny in a way since the man himself was a inservire. Dell stepped away from the window and grabbed a can of nails, a hammer, and multiple planks of wood that had been propped up against the wall in the back.
“Protesters.” Jane answered, pulling away from the window with a sad look on his face. “Violent ones.” Then he started crying, apparently having seen what was written on his car. Returning to his mate's side, Dell gave the man a one armed hug, nails and boards taking up his free one. “It's alright, Jane.” He hushed, bringing his tall lovers head to his to place a kiss to his temple. “It can be fixed.”
“Keesawn!” The noise escaped Jane's lips as he cried out. “That was our money! Our insurance won't fix that! Not with our income and debt!” in which the Texan just rubbed the military man's back and handed the things he held to him. “Here, go board up the windows for me.” The taller American said nothing as he took the boards and nail with gruff bitter snort. The second his lover got to work, Dell pulled the blinds with care to see outside. “These guys normally spread out.” He stated as sirens reached their ears. Turning his head to face Misha, he said “You said that your boys are in the west, right?” Misha answered this with a nod, frowning as he realized the danger Scott and Keeler would be in if the protesters went down that way. Worry for the both of them sent his heart racing at the thought of them being caught and killed by these protesters.
"Ya might want to call Scott then. Hopefully he has his phone on him. These guys get pretty nasty." The pure bluntness of Dell's words echoed in his mind as he went to the back of the shop and pulled out his phone. Begging that the teen had his cell on him, he dialed the number and put the phone to his ear. One ring. Two rings. Three rings. "Come on, Scott." Misha mentally begged. "Pick up."
The youth had heard his phone. Heard it ringing from where he and the submissive hid. The youth had spotted a man and a woman, covered from head to toe in black. Fearing it was the IRC, he grabbed everything and hurried to hide Keeler and himself in one of the dugouts of the field. Holding the man close to him, he felt the submissive whimper as he shoved his face in the collarbone of the younger male as he heard the voices of the two intruders.
The grass and dirt that Scott and Keeler had kicked up was fresh and there's no doubt that the two knew that. Risking a peek, the youth popped his head to peer out of the dugout and saw the male of the two, holding the phone like some sort of Egyptian treasure while the woman voiced her question about it. Swallowing was difficult as he ducked back in the dugout, mind racing as fact as his heart pounded in his chest. Holding the submissive close to his chest, he felt the man grab his hand to suckle on the teens thumb in an effort to comfort himself, grossing the boy out. Yet Scott said nothing as he allowed it, too busy to think of a way out of their situation. The woman spoke again, tone demanding as the male muttered a confirmation. Hearing the sound of shuffling feet along grass and dirt, he tensed as the sounds grew closer to the dugout where they hid. Closing his eyes tightly, he shoved his face in Keeler's hair, knocking his hat from his head, dreading the worst.
And the worst came in the form of a thin male figure looking down into the area in which the two hid in, freezing as he caught sight of the teen and the inservire that the youth held. Looking up in dread, realizing the stupid mistake he had done by showing the enemy his face, watching as the figure stiffened and gave a sharp intake before whispering a quiet "Mon dieu..." as if he couldn't believe what he saw. Scott took his hand away from Keeler, hearing a soft "Koot." that begged for the teen to keep him safe as he shook violently as he clung tighter to the boy's shirt. Using that hand, he searched blindly to his side, bumping into a cold, metal object. Jerking his head to see what he hit, he grinned coldly and took the handle of the bat tightly in his hand. Quickly, and without thinking, he swung it upward at the man in black.
The bat struck the male's face with a sickening crunch. Falling backwards, the man clutched his face, crying and cursing in French as Scott wasted no time in grabbing Keeler's wrists and dragging him from the dugout and onto the field, racing by the woman who was too stunned to react at the sudden situation, rushing out of the gate, he gasped for air as adrenaline surged him forward, practically carrying the submissive who was red in the face from running. The teen heard shouts from the quickly fading baseball field. He heard his name called out but he bit his lip in stunned silence, not stopping for a moment, hearing Keeler gasp behind him as the older male faltered where he ran.
He didn't know how long they had been running. But they had made it to the road, where a police car had passed them by, sirens blaring as it raced to LunaWood with alarming speed. Pushing a gasping submissive to hide in a bush nearby, he heard the man gag and throw up the oatmeal that Misha had fed him earlier. It wasn't long before the man finished puking to dry heave where he knelt behind the bush and out of view with Scott. Letting out a gross whine, Keeler's face screwed up as he hollared out a sob, crying loudly as he sat done, away from his vomit, grabbing onto the youth's shirt and dragged himself to snuggle up to the body, who just held him close, if only to silence the man by shoving his face into his green shirt. The sound of footsteps hitting the dirt quieted them both as they pressed themselves closer to the foliage, remaining as silent as mice. Apparently Keeler had heard them as well for his sobbing vanished as if it had never erupted in the first place.
"Find them!" The male of the two ordered to the woman who nodded in response. "The boy must be unharmed!" As the woman ran off in a direction she had thought the two had gone, the man's tone changed from demanding to worried as he whispered "s'il vous plait." He then patted himself down as if he was searching for something before giving up and turning. "Let him be alright." he begged as he ran off the opposite way that the woman had gone, completely missing the two that his in the bush.
Misha cursed as he hung up for the fourth time. The boy hadn't picked up and it sent shivers down his spine to think of the danger the two could be in. He wanted to open the door and hunt down Scott and Keeler, but the words Dell had told him earlier as he made the third call to the boy, kept him from leaving the building. "The people out there are likely ta kill you if you're not careful." the toymaker had said, earning an agreed grunt from Jane as they both finished boarding the windows up, blocking the door with one of the store shelves; Misha's help with moving it.
With little to do as the police arrived to confront the protesters outside, Misha just sat on the floor, eating a bowl of soup that Dell fixed for the three of them as they waited the war outside to end. Now as all three sat there on the wooden floor, eating in a circle, they did what they could to ignore the sounds of gunfire and the screaming of men and women outside. Never before had Misha experienced something like this, having only needed to deal with peaceful protesters. Thinking about Scott and Keeler, he kept himself distracted with memories of his dream. It had felt so real to the giant that it sent shivers down his body and he almost couldn't finish his meal. Setting the bowl down, he made one last attempt at hope for his friend and wards safety. Picking up his phone, he called the mansion.
"Demidovsky residents." The dull tone of Blair's voice held an edge of worry for the giant, no doubt.
"Blair," Began the Russian, pleased to have gotten an answer so quickly, glad that the Butler had picked up the phone as quickly as he had. There was a breathy gasp from the other end as a clatter of objects were carelessly placed on the table that the phone sat on. "Young master?! Is that you? Oh thank heavens that you're alright. I heard what was happening in town and I have been worrying this entire time since you had told me earlier where you were going. Is young Scott there with you?" Misha frowned. So the two hadn't made it back to the mansion.
"No." The giant denied, bitterly. "Was hoping he had made it back. I see that is not the case."
"I'm sorry sir." Blair apologized, sounding a bit like he regretted letting them go. "I will keep my eye out for him though. Shall I got fetch you?"
"Stay where it is safe." He demanded sternly. "I will be fine. Will call you when I am able to come back. Relax Blair. I will find them." He hung up quickly as the butler began to protest, not wanting to hear it. He knew Blair would stay at the mansion if it was an order. And it clearly had been just that. Knowing that Scott and Keeler were both out there where they could be harmed or worse, killed, sent his hope into his stomach. He his his face in his hands, feeling helpless for once.
Dell and Jane had watched the exchange in silence, eating their food in hopes of ignoring the issue at hand. It wasn't until the giant had covered his face did the two lovers stop eating to give each other similar looks. Turning to the man, Dell said reassuringly "Don't worry too much about it, Misha." He shifted uncomfortably where he sat, his face giving away his own worry. "Scott's a smart boy and Keeler had to live on his own for years so he should know how to get out of a jam like this."
Jane snorted humorously as he shoved a spoonful of soup in his mouth and swallowed before muttering "Unless he goes in heat." The giant's head came up from his hands in high alert, peering at the army man with alarm. "Heat?" Dell shot a look that should have told his lover to shut up, but Jane ignored it, rebelling. A wicked grin formed on his face as he adjusted his hat and sat the bowl in his lap. "Yeah." He muttered gruffly, showing off his teeth in a pleasure like he held some hidden knowledge.
"Shut up Jane. He doesn't need to know about that." Dell's voice was harsh and angry as he glared at the man beside him. Losing his grin, Jane copied the expression with his own snarl. "He lives with a inservire. He DOES need to know." That silenced the toymaker as the Texan just frowned as the notion dawned on him, looking at his own bowl in shame of forgetting that little fact. Satisfied that the smaller man wouldn't say anymore, he turned back to the giant.
"inservire's go into heat once a month. It lasts about a week but it kind of.......draws you in. The smell." He supplied, tapping his nose with a finger to liberate. Misha frowned as he listened to the other man. "It's when a submissive is most fertile." Dell chimed in the second his lover opened his mouth. Jane frowned at being interrupted but remained silent as he figured that his lover would have more experience with being Jane's target during his own heat cycle. He took a bite of his soup.
The Texan continued. "It's a hard time for them. Basically, their bodies burn up and it feels like they're on fire, or so Solly tells me." He sighed and scratched his arm. "They will whine, cry and writhe, laying anywhere to get comfortable. It's like torture to them." He paused to stare at his lover while just slurped his left over food. Looking back to Misha who had his entire attention on the two. "The prophet claims that it's their cure, to be able to carry a child. Some past life thing I suppose. That's where I was today, at the church. Hoping I could learn something new to prove him wrong." He shook his head negatively. "More and more people are believing him. Which is bringing more and more of these protesters like today." He waved his hand to the door. "Obviously, not everyone agrees with the man. They feel like they've been lied to all their lives, which they have." Dell picked his bowl out of his lap. "Helen does what she can to keep all this under control so people don't get hurt and do stupid things. But despite being mayor, there's little she can do that doesn't effect the prophets beliefs."
There was a snort from Jane. "Bastard." The man muttered as he ate, finishing off the last bite. The toymaker groaned. "I also stopped by the bank to see what I could do about the loan. But they're set in their ways."
Misha looked down sadly. "Is there anything I could do?" He asks. "I can lend you a room until you can get on your feet. Pay the loan for you." Dell reeled back as if he'd been struck across the face. "Mercy no!" He cried, frowning sternly. "I appreciate the offer, Misha, I really do." He looked to his lap for a second. "Jane and I have been saving up for an apartment the last couple of weeks, figure we can survive on his income until I can get another job."
The giant blinked sadly, scanning the Texan's face. "But, your dream..." The smaller American just gave a bitter, dry laugh. "Boy, that dream's been dead for years. I have to make me a new one." He wrapped a arm around his lover, who relaxed in the embrace. "As long as I have this guy with me, I don't care anymore." Giving the man a quick peck on the lips, he smiled weakly. Misha hummed, thinking back on his sisters and mother who would return to the mansion with their dog Vasha in a couple of days. There was no way he's be able to explain Keeler to them. They wouldn't understand. But Dell, bringing up an apartment sounded like a great idea for caring for Keeler.....if they were alright. Should he manage to find them, he'd talk to the boy about it. But one question remained. "Dell," He began, gaining the man's undivided attention. "How can I stop Keeler when he goes into heat?" He asked, remembering the signs that the man had mentioned earlier without meaning to.
"You mean aside from impregnating them?" He questioned, blinking. "Nothing really. Just try to keep them comfortable for the time." Mentally, the Russian cursed. He was afraid of that. "So is that what you do or Jane?" The two before him froze, both going red as Jane coughed in his hand and stood up, makng the excuse he needed more soup in his bowl as he left the room. Dell fidgeted where he sat, playing with the strings on his shirt. "Kind of." He muttered quietly. "Jane tops me. Not the other way around. I don't daare risk getting him pregnant. Not with our society. Maybe if it were different, we might have kids. But with how they are, there's no question." He looks at the floor, finding it to be more interesting than his large friend before him.
"Jane does want kids. He told me before. But we can't. People will question where it came from. Solly's papers were relatively easy for Tavish to forge. But it would be nearly impossible for him to do it for our newborn and more expensive for him to do to the point where his missing funds would be noticed." The Texan's sad eyes lingered at the door frame where his lover had gone through. "I wish I could give him what he wants." With a sigh, he looks at the giant in the eyes. "And if you were smart, you won't fall for Keeler like I did to Jane." Standing up, he took Misha's now empty bowl. Leaving the room, the Russian could barely hear the American say mournfully "The pain it too much to bear for one man."
Chapter 11: Time goes on
Sorry for the long wait. This chapter is going to be more of a time sequence than anything to get the story on a roll. Hope you enjoy it.
The riot lasted the entire day and all night. Through that entire time, Misha worriedly, would call Scott's phone, only to receive the same answer. A machine. The boy hadn't picked up his phone at all and it had made his nerves skyrocket, thinking of all the things that could have happened to both the youth and the inservire. He could only imagine the fear running through them, especially Keeler, who would no doubt be having a heart attack. Dell did what he could to reassure the giant that the two were alright, only to have Jane shake his head at the toymaker in an attempt to stop the false hope his lover was giving the man. Jane, Misha found, often looked at the negative side of things and tended to keep to himself when the Texan would try to keep him thinking positive. That was one of the many times where the two were so different that you could never understand how they lasted in a relationship for six years. It wasn't until morning did the authorities catch the last of the protesters. With the arrival of the ambulances to care for the injured and dead with the help of firefighters to help rescue them from where some had gotten trapped behind broken rubble, Misha finally got to his SUV; scraping the broken glass from his windows as he did so. He searched for hours, calling out Scott and Keeler's names, hoping that they heard him.
Eventually he found them wondering the side of the road, covered from head to foot in mud, twigs, leaves, and dirt; looking worse for wear with their torn clothes and ruffled hair. They were ready to pass out from running away from the two people that had found them and hadn't stopped. Keeler was the first to spot Misha as the giant quickly got out of his vehicle and knelt in time to catch the submissive as he ran in to the giants arms, crying and babbling nonsense as he held tightly to his protector, smelling strongly of urine from the adult diaper he wore. The red shirt that Keeler wore was useless now and would have to be thrown out once they had gotten home sadly. Scott's relieve was visible on the boy's face as his eyes glistened from tears he refused to shed. As he drove them back to the mansion, Misha threw out the idea of living in an apartment. In answer, the boy bitterly brought up the fact of the risk they'd face with other tenants of the building. Reluctantly, they settled on purchasing the beach house that sat on a private beach. Blair would never show it, but the man was pleased that he and Scott arrived back safely. Tucking Keeler safely in the bedroom before they went to him.
Buying that beach house proved to have more paperwork than he thought he'd ever have to sign or review. As he worked on the papers, he assigned Scott to help train their submissive, seeing as how the giant couldn't so it himself at the moment. It was amusing to hear the boy crying out as he attempted to teach Keeler how to use the toilet. It was no question, from the amount of time the youth spent scrubbing the bathroom floor that the inservire had been making quite the mess. But the man was smart and had learned in a matter of two days; with a little help of Scott's persistence and determination. As much as they could figure, the only time he needed adult diapers was when he was asleep. Just until he mastered the task of using the bathroom completely.
Once all the paperwork and payment was finished, Misha had the deed firmly in his hands and they were off. Packing was quite easy considering there was little other than the necessities that they could take. Keeler had found the entire packing and moving to be an adventure and a game all wrapped into one. When either Scott or Misha would put something in a box, the man would take them out and put them where they were. Incorrectly but they'd be in the same spot. Scott found this funny and his laughter only encouraged the submissive to do it even more. Keeping his temper in check, he tried not to holler at the youth. Instead, he turned the television on before they packed it. It was like a moth to a flame. Once that was on, they could finally do the work in peace.
The beach house was small and homely. It made the giant think of all those surfing movies he had seen. But the walls were wooden planks and the roof was tiled. It was a decent sized place. Two bedrooms, one kitchen, one bathroom, a study (in which they turned into a playroom for Keeler where he can watch television and play with his toy octopus), a nice living room, and a pantry. The furniture and appliances they had were brought from the mansion to keep purchasing down. Dell and Jane found out about the move before Misha could tell them. But since this was the only beach house for miles, the two found them instantly, bringing along the few boxes that the giant had forgotten to grab. Dell and Jane's arrival freaked Keeler out but the boxes of goodies they brought were tempting and the inservire wanted to know what were in them.
Jane was the first of the two to spot Keeler and it felt like time had frozen as they stared at each other. What the soldier man did next surprised Misha as the buff American got on all four and made some strange grunt noises in which Keeler responded with a happy squeak and the two shoved their faces close to each other like some sort of right of acceptance. Misha's inservire looked joyous as another of his kind was around and he and Jane ended up rolling on the floor in some kind of play fight. Scott was confused at all this but nodded in understanding and surprise as Dell explained the circumstances. After they were done Playing, Keeler crawled up to the open box on the floor and cried out happily as he bounced on his knees at all the goodies that he somehow knew were for him. This action pleased Jane at the fact that his hand-me-downs were going to another inservire like himself.
That night, after Jane and Dell left, Scott had gotten Keeler to wear some shorts after the man's bath that Misha had given him. The man understood well enough that the shorts were not for bathroom purposes and so, no accidents happened for the shorts.
Days passed and Misha's mother and three sisters arrived home with many stories to tell. Needless to say that they were sad that their son and brother had moved out but they understood, in a way, about his need to be on his own. Leaving Scott and keeler back at the house, he went to the mansion to greet his family, who were glad to see him. Hearing their stories of their travels brought a smile to his face, happy that they had so much fun now. As he was returning to the beach house, he was stopped by Jennifer who stood on the sidewalk with her son Greg, who just got out of school, if his backpack was anything to go by. She had flagged him down from the side of the school and he ended up parked on the side and out of the road.
"Are you going to the Harvest Moon festival?" She had asked. This surprised him since he hadn't realized it was fall. Being a tropical island, one could not tell from the weather alone. "No." He had told her. "I am very busy." He never liked attending that festival, considering the Prophet normally wondered around the festival grounds with his five year old daughter and the cold look on his face at anyone who looked at them funny. The man had a tendency to preach to everyone he met and old let those who agreed with him to go about their business. Those who didn't, like Misha, got stuck listening to him for most of the night. Not only that, but before the festival could even start, you had to listen to a three hour lecture on the war against inservires during the prayers. The look she gave him made him feel like he had said the wrong thing as he handed him a flyer. Scanning it over, he sucked in a breath. It was required to attend the church, it didn't matter if you went to the festival or not. And Misha had a suspicion it was because of the riot that transpired days ago. Scott wasn't happy when the giant told him the news.
"This is bullshit!" The boy had exclaimed, slamming his bottle of Pepsi down, startling Keeler who was watching the television from the living room. From time to time, the submissive would watch TV out in the living room when Misha or Scott where nearby. "I mean, what happened to freedom?! Don't we have that anymore! Where are my rights?!" Misha's answer was a deadpanned look as he explained to the youth "This island is not part of America. Your American rights do not apply here." That shut the boy up. Misha was right. The island may be near America but it was by no right American. It was its own self controlled country that was ruled by religion. Personally, Misha felt that when Scott and his mother moved here, they made a mistake, as did all who moved here.
Scott had gone to his room and never came out for the entire day. It was well after dinner did anything really exciting happen. Once Keeler was done eating the last of his meal that consisted of chicken, mashed potatoes and gravy with peas to the side, the submissive looked over to the giant with a smile and said "Heavy." with a sweet tone that brought visions of the handsome man that the submissive should have been from his dream. The inservire's language had been improving over the past few days. It was a surprise and a pleasant one. The new word had earned Keeler an extra slice of chocolate cake, which made the man squeak in happiness.
When night came around, Misha fastened the adult diaper to Keeler for the night, slipping the soft pajamas on the submissive who purred at the silky touch of the fabric. The sound was cute and a smile grew on the giant's face as he took out one of the hard cardboard books from the bookshelf that sat nearby and laid down on his bed, his own pajamas caressing his skin as he did so, relaxing with one arm stretched out, inviting Keeler to snuggle in there for the story. This was the first time he was going to read to the man. Dell said it would help him with his language and spelling. The submissive stared at the book curiously, snuggling into the giant's side.
"Once there were five little bunnies." Misha began. The story seemed childish but it was cute. The book held Keeler's attention the entire time and once the story was over, he closed the book softly and looked to the inservire, who's eyes were drooping from his exhaustion. But it was clear on how hard he was trying to stay awake, head drooping to relax on the giant's muscular arm. With a soft chuckle, Misha set the book to the side on the nightstand and covered them both with the blanket, rubbing Keeler's face tenderly with his thumb to prompt the man to sleep. "Sleep now," The giant cooed softly in a sing-song voice, mimicking a lullaby. "Have much to do in the morning." and so the submissive lost the fight against sleep.
The morning had Keeler and Scott running around on the beach and playing in the water before the youth and the giant had to go to the Harvest Moon mass. In their swimsuit gear and skin slick with sunscreen that Misha had them wear, they splashed and played in the water and on the hot sand that surrounded them. The wind was nice and slightly cool. Not enough to keep the heat off them but enough to keep the temperature from being unbearable. Misha planted himself in the nice, cool shade of one of the palm trees that sat nearby, reading a book from his chair, facing the two who played, watching should something happen.
He got drawn deeper in his book but with a cry from Scott and a "Heavy!" from Keeler, had the giant looking up and froze. Jennier Pauling stood there in front of her car that sat in the driveway, staring down at them, her eyes focused on Scott and Keeler more than the giant. Her son sat in the car, looking at his mother in confusion at what was happening. Finally, after a moment, she smiled. "I knew it!" she chirped with a cry.
Chapter 12: Sneak Peak
A Sneak peak
Because I love you people so much and since it's so late here and I have no idea what to write right now, I thought I'd give you a little sneak peak to a future chapter. Only a little. I don't want to spoil to much.
"You have the power! You can get me those papers! I know you can! Please!" He had resorted to his anger, looking down at the Scotsman, whom sat in his chair. The office seemed to creep in as they stared each other down in some sort of stand off. Finally, the man sighed. "Look, Misha. I ca' give you what you want. Unless you plan ta put me in danger too, I just ca' do it. I need to save my resources for others like him. You understand lad."
At this point, his hurt and anger was boiling over as he slammed his hands on the desk before him, rattling the objects that sat on it such as the pencil holder. "He is with child!"
"And a foolish mistake on your part innit it?" He arched a brow with a inquisitive expression as he crossed his fingers in front of his face, relaxing deeper in his chair. Looking down, Misha frowned as he clinched his fists tightly closed on the desk. He needed to make Tavish understand. He needed his old friend to help his lover as he did him. Looking back up, he stared deeply in the Scotsman's eyes. "I saved your life." It was a low blow for him to pull. But he was desperate.
It was like a stare down. As a flash of hurt flicker in Tavish's eyes. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Tavish sighed and infolded his hands to set them in his lap. Rubbing his eyes tiredly, he stood up, palms flat on the desk. "Look. I ca'ne give ya papers for your inservire and your babe." He paused to raise a hand to silence the giant before him just as he went to interrupt. "But, I can get ya two off the island. When you get ta America, I can suggest ya ta a man or two there. What ya do from there is your business."
His gratefulness must have shown in the way he smiled. Misha felt his heart swell and he could have cried then and there. "You don't know how much that means to me, Tavish. Thank you." The Scotsman gave a tight smile and nodded, watching as the giant turned to leave when he stopped the man. "Misha, you're my friend. Ya know tha'." The Russian paused, awaiting for the next reply as he nodded in an answer. "Don' make meh regret it, lad."
Chapter 13: Heat of the Inservire
The moment everyone has waited for.
Ah, a new update. Dragon Age Inquisition has me addicted. XD Here's the chapter. sorry for the long wait.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Not a single person moved other than Keeler who ran to hide behind Misha, who had stood up earlier. Jennifer stood there with a grin and her arms crossed, looking completely harmless. Harmless was a funny word to the Russian. It was something that should be defined as deceiving; at least in the same category as he had experiences with underestimating one he had thought 'harmless' before. Scott, looked to have the same idea as his eyes shifted around wildly.
"I knew someone moved in here!" Pauling had chirped as she placed her hands at her waist. "I saw the car from the hill where I live and it surprised me. So I had to come see for myself." She smiled kindly, eyes landing on Keeler for a second before turning to look back at the youth. This answer had Misha staring at her suspiciously. He had seen a strange gleam in her eye and felt oddly unsettled with his old friend at that moment. Scott, on the other hand, fell for this concealed lie and gave a sigh of relief, as he gave a chuckle and a look to the giant as if to say "can you believe our luck?!" But the Russian wasn't so easily fooled. "Don't worry." Jennifer chimed happily, looking right into Misha's eyes. "I won't tell." And then it felt like the giant's heart had stopped. He knew that look in her eyes. Had seen it many times before he moved to the island.
She had left not long after that, which relieved the Giant greatly, being in her presence unnerved him holding the bag of goodies that she had brought for them, tightly in his hands. It wasn't until Scott tried to pry the bag from him did he realize he had crushed a large handful of cookies that were in the bag. He and the youth had agreed to remain inside for the rest of the day. The submissive wasn't happy about being cooped up inside the shack but his language lessons from Misha cheered him up immensely and he soon forgot about the outside.
Throughout the rest of the month and half of the next, things went in pretty much, a routine. Scott had to go back to school, leaving Misha to drop Keeler off to Dell's while the giant went to work. Keeler loved spending time with Jane, finding another inservire to be exciting. After work, he would come home to find that Scott had just arrived from school and passed out on the couch while Dell dropped the submissive back to the shack, where he'd be teaching Keeler about cooking. It was a small feat. The inservire could now make his own bowl of oatmeal each morning as he woke and could speak short sentences, thanks to Misha's lessons and Dell's teachings.
Keeler no longer needed the diaper and learned to dress himself. Despite getting the colors clashed, he at least knew what a shirt and pants were for and could put them on correctly. This was all thanks to Scott, who got tired of changing the submissive every morning before school. "It was a shame," Misha had mused one morning to Keeler, who was nibbling on a stalk of celery while the giant did his paperwork. "He was becoming adept at changing you." At least the Russian knew that if the boy had kids of his own, he knew how to change them.
Even though the place they lived was mostly a remote area and away from town, they still had those who lived nearby. They had a neibor that lived quite a bit away, her name was Abby Lease, and she had a very noticeable crush on the large Russian. She had no idea who he was or what he did which ruled out any love for money on her part. She would come over to the beach house every once in a while as the giant was out on the beach relaxing while Scott played with Keeler, who had hollered out happily "Scout! Stop!" Scout had been Scott's new nickname. The youth found he rather liked it as opposed to "Koot!"
Abby was around 28, being two years older than Misha yet tiny compared to the large man, with long brown hair that she always tied into a ponytail and hazel eyes. Scott would often claim that she was a Bella reincarnation. To that, Misha would look at him blankly, causing the boy to wave him away and muttering about how the giant was lucky to not know a thing about Twilight. She would ignore Scott, who would constantly try and get into a conversation with her. When Keeler came over to Misha, looking very sweet and naive with his new-found ability at speech, would speak softly to the giant, getting a nasty glare from the woman who felt angry that the Russian's attention had been taken from her. Misha was always glad when she eventually left around sunset each week.
Keeler, Misha found out, had developed an accent when he was learning to speak. It was very subtle but there nether-less. It was a very botched up accent that couldn't be placed no matter where you would go. For the most part, he had a Russian accent. But thanks to Scott and Dell both, he had, not only, a southern twang to it, but also a little bit of the Brooklyn accent to it. Regardless, the sound was sweet to his ears and he wouldn't have it any other way.
As Keeler's behavior improved, Misha risked taking the submissive to the museum, hoping to teach the man more than just language and how to care for himself. The inservire loved every moment of it, finding all this old stuff to be excitingly new and impressive as he looked to barely being able to contain himself from shoving his face to the glass to see old medical tools. Scott had found it funny, bluntly stating that should Keeler ever become a doctor, the youth would be running away because the submissive would want to know how a human body worked. Misha agreed with him, laughing humorously, letting his loud laughter echo around the room. Hearing all that, Keeler kept inquiring on what echoes were and what they did. Misha promised him that one day, he'd take him to the Science dome that explained all that in one setting.
Two more months had passed and so had the festival and the Meeting. They had left Keeler at home, not wanting the man to hear what was being said about his kind, as they went to church to hear the Prophet. The way the graying old man spoke was knew and his speeches were getting more and more insistant, it riled more and more people up as the church got louder and louder by his supporters. Those who did not agree, intelligently, remained silent. Refusing to be baited in something they knew was wrong. Taking a shaky breath once it was all over, He spotted Dell and Jane, whose heads remained down as the toymaker held his lover close to him as he whispered comfortingly in his ear while taking time to kiss his cheek.
As the two passed the giant without a word, Misha felt his heart break as he heard the strong and proud man he knew Jane was, break down sobbing in the car they had rented. The day after that, Misha took the time to take his car to the shop, tired of seeing the broken windows. Those same broken windows almost got him pulled over by a policeman as he was driving one night. Renting a jeep, he drove home bitterly, seeing Scott with Keeler at the kitchen table; the youth was teaching the submissive math. As he continued to learn, absorbing knowledge like a sponge, they turned Keeler's play area to a bedroom, feeling very much like there had been a child that grew into a handsome man that lived with them. The submissive was very striking. The thought had Misha shaking. yes, Keeler was very attractive. Misha would be the first to admit that. The man had always been attractive. Even when he couldn't say anything at all. The giant had always thought this. No matter how many adult diapers he had to change. No matter how many chirps, cheeps, squeaks, and squawks the inservire had uttered his entire time with them as he learned and continued to do so, there was something about the man that he liked more than a companion.
Looking over to Keeler, who was now finally allowed to watch Lord of the Rings, even with its violance, the Russian smiled, thinking of the German man he had seen in his dream many months ago, and tried to picture the submissive with the glasses and accent. He couldn't.
Their peace was temporary though.
It was early spring now, even though the tropical weather prevented anyone from knowing by it alone. The nights were cool the first few weeks and as he lay down to sleep one night, he smiled tiredly. His bed rested right at the window, in which he opened up each night since spring had hit, letting the cool breeze pass through the window screen and touch his skin that was not covered by his blankets. He loved the feeling and easily fell asleep to it. Scott was in his room just a few doors away, snorting softly in his bed with his legs spread, on on top of his covers and one wrapped in them. His arms in the same condition as he gave a twitch every once in a while.
Sleep would not come to him that night. No matter how much the giant tossed and turned, he could not get comfortable. In fact, instead of being tired, he felt energized and oddly aroused. This had confused him and had hoped it would go away. Going to bed with a limp erection was a mistake. He knew that. But he hadn't felt the need to take care of it. But he needed to, so badly. It was like being stuck in limbo, trying to figure out if he should remain or go to the afterlife.
Throwing off the covers, he got to his feet, angry over the fact that he could not fall into the abyss that his bed should have provided. Stepping out into the dark hallway, he was aided only by the stars and full moon that shone through the windows as his bare feet padded against the polished wood of the floor. He had intended to head outside to walk around in hopes of removing the access energy he had acquired but found himself standing in front of Keeler's room. The door was imposing, yet, he found himself eager to open the door. And he did. His body had been on autopilot as the door opened slowly. It felt a bit wrong to go into the submissives room, but he couldn't stop himself from at least, stepping inside. Eyes widening as he froze on the spot after getting his own will back, he stared at the bed before him.
Keeler was gasping as his fist was shoved to his mouth, sweat glistened from his body as the moon reflected off of it, making him look well oiled. Gasping and struggling not to cry out, Keeler gripped the blankets under him as he laid on top, bare of any clothes and with his legs wide open, giving Misha a clear view of what was going on below. In all his studying of inservires, he stupidly, never knew that right below the genitals, was an extra hole that was now leaking wildly. The giant gulped at the sight, feeling his mind begin to fog up as Jane and Dells's words bounced around in his head. How stupid was he to forget about Keeler's heat. This was, no doubt, the man's first, and he had no idea what to do about it. But his thoughts began to fade as a sweet smell perfumed the air. "No, No!" he chided himself mentally. "This is Keeler! He is too innocent!". But the giant's eyes raked the body that was writhing on the bed and his pants grew tighter and his need grew along with it.
Looking up, the inservire finally spotted Misha. The giant stood at the door and had noticed that the submissive was watching him from between his own legs. Instantly, he felt calmer as he fear washed away. Misha would make it better. He always made things better. "Heavy." He croaked out the nickname for the man, feeling a burn somewhere between his legs, a want filled him. But it was foreign to him. What was he supposed to do? "Help me..."
Closing the door behind him, the giant stepped to Keeler's side; the smell getting stronger as he did so. He reached the bed and leaned over it, not having any will to stop himself as he caressed the submissive's face, who sighed in contentment at the contact. "You do not want this." the words from Misha were hollow and forced out as the man's large body climbed on the bed fully, hearing the bed creak violently and the mattress dip. Closing his eyes, the inservire let out a soft moan. This felt good. The giant hand on him was cool and his body was warm. Too warm. "Do." He muttered. "Do." Then he kissed the giant, not really knowing why. His own mind left him after he had spoken. He nearly wept in joy as the large man climbed on top of him.
Misha couldn't recall a lot from what was going on. He could smell the sweet honeyed sent that filled his nose. He could feel the willing and aching body under his as Keeler called out happily. Could feel those soft lips on his own as they kissed. This had been their first kiss as he climbed over the inservire and let his covered erection roam over the submissives heat, loving the feeling as it made contact despite the pants he wore. The body below him was beautiful. It felt beautiful, smelt beautiful, it even tasted beautiful as he licked up and down the submissives neck, gaining a sigh. His mind was blank. Driving by his need, he could not think. The man below him had wrapped his legs around Misha as the Russian quickly took off his pajamas, loving the skin on skin contact as Misha did what he could to rest what weight he could on the submissive without squishing him.
Licking everywhere he could, the giant couldn't remember when his member slowly sunk into the warm, leaking hole that only women and male inservire had. It had felt wonderful and had been years since he had taken a lover. Having enough mind not to thrust into the mewling body under him, he slowly pushed all the way into the heat and pulled out before repeating the action. The giant's hands roamed everywhere he could, grabbing what he could on his smaller lover, who in turn, did the same, raking his nails on Misha's back.
Keeler felt like he had died and gone to heaven. The burning pain he had felt was being replaced by such pleasure that he couldn't describe. Feeling his own hardened member being pressed between both of their bodies, he threw his head back and moaned loudly. Yes, Misha was making it right. He could feel it. It felt so right.
Misha was glowing in his own pleasure as he began to speed up. Grabbing his smaller lover around his waist, he hoisted Keeler until they both were sitting, making the submissive slide onto the weeping member of the giant. Throwing his head back, Misha groaned loudly as his pleasure began to build. The inservire had replied with licks and kisses of his own, licking the giant's earlobe and biting it gently. "Heavy." he whined and held tightly to the Russian who groaned once again in pleasure. Although, despite all this, despite the pleasure, the heat, the love he felt for this man he kept it hidden from, Misha could not help but feel that small twinge of shame and disgust that coiled in his stomach as his speed picked up.
"Heavy," that was what he called me. That was the word he had learned from his time watching the television.
"Heavy." oh how he hated to hear the Inservire mewl this word in his ear as the giant rubbed his back so tenderly. It was wrong. It was Immoral. It went against everything he knew. But it had felt so good. Unfortunately for him, society deemed it no better than sleeping with a dog.
But it wasn't Keeler that made him feel like this. Nor was it the pleasure he was giving and receiving. He felt very much like he was taking advantage of the inservire as he started to thrust wildly as Keeler bit into his shoulder, determined not to scream and wake Scott up. Misha's hand sunk lower and cupped Keeler's rear softly, pressing his own face in the smaller man's soft neck, bucking hurriedly as Keeler's pleased whines rung in his ear. He loved seeing the man pant and call out the nickname he gave the giant. It brought a small smile to Misha's face. The bed creaked with each move they made and shook to imitate the sound as the two made love there on the bed. Bending down, Misha felt himself tiring, setting the man on his back, the giant held on the Inservire's hips and hid his face in the milky white skin of his new lover. Pounding heavily, the loud, bellowing moans that left Keeler's mouth stirred him on as he came, releasing his seed into the body below him, freezing as he did so. Once he could move, he didn't hesitated to thrust into the smaller man again to milk his orgasm feeling Keeler tighten around him and came with his own cry and froze himself.'
It was later that night did the fog lift from Misha's mind and he nearly wept. "What have I done?!" and sobbed, holding Keeler close to him and sobbing into the man's short, scruffy hair. Keeler slept the whole night.
My writing skills are a little rusty. I might fix this later but for now, enjoy this.
Chapter 14: He's having a Baby?!
.........I'm not happy with this chapter. I will probably change or edit it in the future since this whole story is basically a rough draft. We'll see how this goes.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Misha was gone by morning. Not able to look Keeler in the eye, he did what he could to avoid the man each time he came around, which was difficult, seeing as they lived in the same house. He had resorted to spending time with Abby; which, on a normal day, he would ignore. Using his free time away from home to sneak back into the house at night, leaving Scott alone with the submissive who probably did what he could to ask the giant's whereabouts with what little language skills he had. Scott had been annoyed at Misha and Keeler both from this and had often shouted about how they needed to fix their shit or he'll throw rocks at him. In the end, the boy resorted to going over to random places with friends he recently made from school. This left the inservire alone to his own devices, finding himself lonely without his two friends; crying to himself as quietly as he could at night.
This continued on for three months. Keeler had been getting more and more ill and often was found snoozing around the house or throwing up in the bathroom before he went back to watch the History channel. At first, the Russian hadn't noticed; too busy mauling over his troubled mind on what had happened months ago. Abby, it turns out, was the prophet's niece and had taken to inviting the man when her and Misha went out anywhere. The giant would pale and stiffen every time he was around the man, earning a look that could peel his skin. Gray, the prophet's chosen name, had disapproved of the large man Abby had been attracted to and he despised at how little the giant thought about the growing problem with inservire lovers and had taken it upon himself to converting the man; Misha took notice of this, and would lie through his teeth, eyes shifting around as he prayed to disappear from there.
"So, what do you think of my uncle? I know you two never actually met." Abby had asked one day with a sidelong glance and a perky smile on her face. Misha hadn't known what to say at the time, frowning as he struggled to think of a response. Walking along the sidewalk and passed some stores, he frowned and his brows furrowed. "He is..." He paused and saw with mild amusement, as she looked up at him, interested. "Not what I had expected."
She gave a laugh and flipped her hair from her shoulder without care. "I know right?! He's not. Everyone thinks he's some sort of hateful, disgusting monster!" She giggled behind her hand. "He gets a lot of hate and threats for what he thinks." She paused, looking very empty in the head as she gave a dreamy look. "He's right though. Inservire's are abominations." Misha frowned harder, suddenly not liking where the conversation was headed.
"What do you mean?" He asked, hoping he had heard wrong. She scoffed and rested her hands on her hips as she stopped right in front of the giant and turned to face him, making Misha stop in his tracks. "They're disgusting!" She squealed unpleasently. "Men having babies?! Women siring them?! Gross!" She gave a shiver and pretended to throw up as she shook her hands wildly. "The mere thought of them make me sick! If anything, I'm glad that no one I know care for them."
Misha shifted on his feet, keepng silent. His mind drifted to Keeler, wondering what his life would have been like if he had never met the man, never felt the soft, smooth skin, or even heard his singing voice when he spoke. He relaxed and nearly smiled at the memory of the man, happily chirping when Misha first introduced him to ice cream with chocolate syrup. The man had made a mess, getting the kitchen messy like he always used to do.
"Uncle was wrong about one thing." Her lips tightened together bitterly, snapping the giant from his pleasant memory. His weak smile slipping from his face easily as he was brought back to the present. "They should be killed on the spot." She had continued, not noticing that the Russian hadn't been paying to much attention to her. "Not sent away. That's why I'm joining the IRC in a few days."
"T-The IRC?" He questioned, paling as he imagined Keeler being dragged out of the shack by his hair by large armored figures that beat and killed him, throwing his body in the ocean as they tended to do. Then he imagined Scott hand he being beheaded in the most medieval way as was tradition to those who harbored inservire, while Dell and Jane stood by, future victims of the IRC.
She nodded excitedly. "Yes. I've been training to join them for two years now. By Tuesday I'll be one of them. Hunting those beasts down." He could not speak, swallowing heavily, mentally thankful that she could not see his fear with his mask of confusion he held on his face. She seemed to sigh happily. "Maybe one day, I could take you on one of my hunts." She chimed. "We're allowed to do that, for the nonviolent cases of course." She looked him in the eyes that had a gleam in them. "I'm so glad you came with me today."
But her happiness was one sided as she practically climbed on him to kiss him. A kiss, he did not return, not that she noticed.
Finally, around month five, he eventually took notice of how sick Keeler had been. His shame finally vanishing long enough for him to hear the man vomiting as the giant snuck through the door that night when he thought Scott and the submissive were asleep. The sound was disgusting and made his stomach churn the closer he got to the bathroom as he heard the toilet flush and Keeler giving out a very toddler like whine.
"It's alright." Scott's voice broke out from the bathroom, barely heard over the submissives crying. "It's just a little puke. Everyone does it. You might have eaten something bad. Hey! How about I take you to see Jane. I'm sure he'd like to see you. And hopefully you can lose some weight."
"Noooooooo!" The cry was mournful as it shook out in response from Keeler. "Want Misha! Want Misha!"
"Misha's not here-"
"WANT MISHA! I want him! Why he not here?!"
Scott hadn't answered, and the giant hadn't expected him too. He wouldn't know what to say if he had been the boy. With the nights events on his mind, he went to bed, shoving his past shame to the back of his mind, refusing to give in anymore.
The next morning, he had seen what Scott had meant. Misha had been sitting on the couch in the living area, a space that you had to pass to get to the kitchen when Keeler had stepped from the hallway, looking beautiful as Misha always thought. Hair all messed up and his striped pajamas looking a bit tight around his midsection, the man saw him and stopped in mid yawn, instantly running to him and hopping on the giant's lap, finding himself engulfed in Misha's large arms as he whimpered nonexistent words. "I a sorry." Misha had whispered to him mournfully as he buried his face in the inservire's soft hair, being concerned about how firm the smaller man's stomach was against his own. "I will not leave you again."
That same day, he took Keeler with him to Dell's, leaving Scott a note for when he got back from school. Misha was helping the toymaker finish unpacking. This had been the third time the two lovers had to move since their building was taken by the bank, still refusing money each time the Giant offered. When Misha had brought up his concern to Dell, the Texan frowned and insistant he inspected the submissive. With Keeler on his back on the dining table, stomach bare and loosing smooth and firm as it felt, Dell felt around and would often pause and hum in confirmation before going back.
Having been a farmer as a child and a teenager, Dell was familiar with this, having witnessed and gaining a hands on experience from his time helping his father with the animals. Although, people were a lot different from the cattle and horses his father raised along with hogs and hens, this was something he knew for a fact. He knew what was wrong almost instantly. He had a suspicion when the man came after Scott had dropped him off the last time. The bump was small and barely noticeable; easily covered up by any shirt he wore.
Taking his hands from Keeler's stomach as the man slept lightly on the wooden table, Dell turned to Misha, who sat on a chair nearby, with a disappointed frown. "You're a damn fool, Misha! You just got yourself in some deep shit!" At the giant's concerned look, the Texan growled. "You got him pregnant! You damn fool!"
Yep, defiantly not happy with this but I might fix it later, as I said.
Chapter 15: Trauma that Time Brings
WARNING: Cursing! I don't care if it is in another language, it is cursing. And Descriptive death.
I'm updating this story! Whoo! I missed you people and I missed this story.
Fun Fact: Francis is the Blue Spy (My OC. It's not cannon.) :D
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
"Of all the wonders that I yet have heard, It seems to me most strange that men should fear; Seeing that death, a necessary end, Will come when it will come."
The news Dell had given him left him cold as he drove Keeler and himself back to the cottage. When they arrived, Misha wasted no time in digging through all his papers, searching for a single number that would, no doubt, be the salvation he needed. The man whose number he was hunting for had helped the Texan and his lover, maybe he could also help him. Time had passed as he went through folder after folder, leaving papers scattered around. Keeler had been watching this all unfold for a while but eventually left after a few failed attempts to get the giant's attention.
Scott had got home from school late, eyes bruised and cut up from the fights he had gotten into. The boy was often teased and made fun of for living in a house with an older man. Not that it bothered the youth. But those teasing had often resulted in physical torment. Slamming his back pack on the floor by the door, he shuffled to the couch tiredly and fell on it belly first as he buried his aching face into the scratchy cushion. The noise Misha was making irritated the boy and he sat up, removing his face from the couch to throw his hands in the air. "What are you doing?!" he exclaimed.
Quickly, Misha hushed the boy as he flipped a document over to view the words on the other side. With a huff, Scott grabbed the remote and turned on the television. With an elated cry, the Russian pulled out his cell phone and dialed the number, leaving the shack as he did so to gain some privacy.
“Freak.” The youth muttered from the sofa as he watched the older man leave through the door.
It had been difficult to gain an audience with Tavish and even harder to acquire an appointment. It had taken him days to get passed the secretary before DeGroot finally picked up himself. On the day of his appointment, Misha sped out of the house and parked right in front of the tall building that the man owned. From the door to his office was a blur as his mind raced with ways he could explain the situation to the man he had not spoken to in years.
He felt numb as his hand grabbed a hold of the door nob. His hand felt cold as it touched the metal. Stepping in the office, he could not recognize the man in front of him. From the filthy, young orphan that lived and stole off the street, Tavish had morphed a lot from his past self, not standing as a respectable man with clean cut hair and a nicely trimmed goatee. It only took a second for the Scottsman to see him as he tossed his pen to the other side of the room to stand up and envelope the giant in his arms the best he could, in which the Russian returned gladly.
“Aye! Misha! Ya daft bastard! Whacha doin' keepin' meh waitin' tha' long!?” Pulling away, he slapped his large friend on the arm teasingly. “Ah've been waitin' AGES!” Misha chortled lightly from where he stood as Degroot wandered back to his desk to pull out a bottle.
“Fer a momen' Ah thought you were Jamie. Lass takes meh alcohol away ya know.” Rolling his eyes, Misha watched the black man take a large gulp of his alcohol before slamming it down with a belch. Despite his job and look, Tavish was the same man the giant knew as a boy. Quickly, he waved Misha to the seat in front of the desk as he sat in his own chair. The giant was careful as he took a seat, knowing that any wrong move could break it because of his weight. “So,” began Tavish as he leaned back in his seat to toss his feet on the desk; muddy boots landing on, what looked to be, important paperwork. “Where have ya been?”
“Ah, here and there. Mostly on the island.” Misha answered with a sad grin, Resting his arms on his knees in a feeble attempt to get comfortable. “Is tha' so?” Tavish took another large guzzle from his bottle, not making a move to offer any. “How come ya never visit then?”
“Has not been easy.” Supplied Misha, shifting in his seat as the arms bit into his sides, making him grimace. “Your secretary isn't the best to get past.” DeGroot froze with the bottle to his lips in thought before chuckling and lowering the alcohol. “Ah, yer right. Have ta fix tha.” His grin went coy. “But tha' can't be the only reason. Got a lass? Caroline doing good.”
Misha winced at the name of his Ex. Before Tavish and him went their separate ways, the giant had been going out with a woman named Caroline who had silky red hair and was slightly overweight. Despite that, she was an angel to him before she broke it off with Misha. She hadn't been harsh about it. The ordeal had been sweet and understanding but the whole thing stung him to this day. Later on, she went off and got married to another woman in England.
“I haven't seen her in almost five years. She married a long time ago.” He answered with a grim expression.
“Take it tha' yer not happy about tha'.”
“Нет. I am happy about it. I am glad she found love. But....” He paused, thinking. “It still stings to think about.”
Tavish nodded. “So, what kept ya then. Aside from Marline?”
With large breathe of air, Misha tapped his fingers on his knee since his nerves were rattling. “I found myself in a.....compromising situation.”
The grin was off of Tavish's face as his feet slipped from the desk and onto the floor, bringing the muddy papers with them. DeGroot was dead quiet as he stared at the giant with a trained gaze. “What did ya do, lad?”
The look his younger friend was giving him brought back memories of his youth. That wasn't helping his nerves as he avoided the man's eye. “You know Dell and Jane.”
“They're nice people.”
“Aye, tha' they are. Wha' are yeh getting at?”
Scratching the back of his head, he let out an uneasy breath. “I know about Jane.” Tavish's expression had not changed aside from his shoulders stiffening slightly. “And wha' are ya going ta do aboot tha'?”
It was a challenge. Misha knew. A challenge to see if the giant would dare rat them out. To blackmail him. It wasn't that the Scottsman didn't trust the Russia. It just meant that he needed to be weary.
Finally Misha snagged the courage to stare into Tavishs only eye. “I am in the same predicament.”
Like a knife through butter, the black man relaxed instantly as he leaned back and gave a bellowing laugh. “For fooks sake! Ya had meh worried! Was tha' all?! If yeh wan' me ta make him papers, ya just could have just told meh. No issue.” With that said, he brought his bottle to his lips and began drinking again to ease his rattled body. Misha cleared his throat. Later he would wonder to himself why he didn't just keep it at that. Why he didn't just keep the fact of Keeler's pregnancy to himself? But he felt compelled to tell his oldest friend. If anything, in hopes of something being done about it.
Almost like in the movies, Tavish doubled over and spat the alcohol like some sort of comical spit take. Coughing as he pounded his chest before staring wide eyed at the giant before him. “Whot was tha'?! Pregnant?! Oh lad.” He covered his face with his hand. “Please tell me ya didn't.” When the Russian made no reply, he groaned and set his bottle on the desk and ran his fingers through his hair, tugging the curly locks. “Ya damned fool, ya are.”
Groaning loudly, he looked up to Misha with a defeated look. “Makin' papers fer one man is no problem. But for a babe.” He sighed. “That's a lot ta ask fer. I canne do it. Ah am sorry.”
Misha went pale as he sat up straight. Desperation was beginning to run through him. “Why not?! You have enough wealth!”
A sorrowful and agonized look crossed Tavish's features as he grabbed the bottle again and leaned back once more. “Do yeh know what all papers are needed for a babe here? A grown man or woman could easily blend in. They could be claimed ta' move from across the sea. A child, not so much. And we would no be able ta make the same claim for them. People do their math here.”
Misha was quick to get to his feet. Their happy reunion was turning sour really fast and the giant was desperate to protect his lover and his unborn child....Lover. He had to stop and think about that. Did he really consider Keeler his lover? Spending only one heated night under the influence of Keeler's heat?
"You have the power! You can get me those papers! I know you can! Please!" He had resorted to his anger, looking down at the Scotsman, whom sat in his chair. The office seemed to creep in as they stared each other down in some sort of stand off. Finally, the man sighed. "Look, Misha. I ca' give you what you want. Unless you plan ta put me in danger too, I just ca' do it. I need to save my resources for others like him. You understand lad."
At this point, his hurt and anger was boiling over as he slammed his hands on the desk before him, rattling the objects that sat on it such as the pencil holder. "He is with child!"
"And a foolish mistake on your part innit it?" He arched a brow with a inquisitive expression as he crossed his fingers in front of his face, relaxing deeper in his chair. Looking down, Misha frowned as he clinched his fists tightly closed on the desk. He needed to make Tavish understand. He needed his old friend to help his lover as he did him. Looking back up, he stared deeply in the Scotsman's eyes. "I saved your life." It was a low blow for him to pull. But he was desperate.
It was like a stare down. As a flash of hurt flicker in Tavish's eyes. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Tavish sighed and infolded his hands to set them in his lap. Rubbing his eyes tiredly, he stood up, palms flat on the desk. "Look. I ca'ne give ya papers for your inservire and your babe." He paused to raise a hand to silence the giant before him just as he went to interrupt. "But, I can get ya two off the island. When you get ta America, I can suggest ya ta a man or two there. What ya do from there is your business."
His gratefulness must have shown in the way he smiled. Misha felt his heart swell and he could have cried then and there. "You don't know how much that means to me, Tavish. Thank you." The Scotsman gave a tight smile and nodded, watching as the giant turned to leave when he stopped the man. "Misha, you're my friend. Ya know tha'." The Russian paused, awaiting for the next reply as he nodded in an answer. "Don' make meh regret it, lad."
It was a tense moment as they exchange information. Tavish made it very clear on how and when they would leave the island. Leaving room for Scott to come should the boy desire to. The only problem with the whole plan was that there was no way that Misha and Keeler could leave before the Giving festival. Keeler would be heavy with child by then and would have difficulty moving but that was the only time that the coast was clear enough from the IRC and coast guards long enough for them to get to America. The trip would be illegal and they'd be with smugglers but once they get there, they could acquire citizenship from another country.
Misha felt exhausted by the whole ordeal. The sun was high in the sky by the time he managed to leave. It was much longer than the note he left said he'd be. At first, he hadn't noticed how empty or bare the streets were as he drove. He paid no attention on the lack of people who normally roamed the sidewalks. Eventually he did notice and puzzled on any festivities that might me going on at this time. Realizing that none were being held on this day, he kept look out. Further along the road, he saw multiple cars parked randomly on both sides of the road and a crowed of people stood right in front of the courthouse, blocking any view Misha had any hopes of catching.
Finding a spot nearby, he parked and quickly hopped out of the SUV, scrambling to the crowed. Blending into the gaggle of people, he finally caught sight of the old noose platform that the courthouse had for years. Four nooses hung from a beam overhead and the other ends of the ropes were tied around very skittish people. Three men and one woman. One man had caught Misha's eye. He was no other than his family's cook, Francis.
“Misha! Misha!” The voice of his oldest sister, Zhanna, cried as she ran to his side as his other two sisters, Yana and Bronislav followed behind. Bronislav hugging him tightly to cry into his chest. “They're going to kill Francis!” Yana hollered over the roaring of the angry crowed who booed at the people on stage.
“What is happening?!” Misha questioned, wrapping an arm around his sobbing sister who clung to him. “Where is mama?!” Yana shrugged nonchalantly, angry eyes glaring at the noose around the cooks neck. Zhanna was the one to answer. “Mama is home. And he was caught harboring inservires just outside the forest.” Her lips tightened as her eyes scanned his stunned expression. “He wasn't careful.” This statement of hers didn't register in his mind. He was in too much shock to see his cold, French cook standing proudly with his chest puffed out and no expression on his face as he waited for his execution with the rope around his neck and arms tied behind his back.
Out of all the people on the island, he never thought that Francis would be a supporter of submissives. But it would explain why the other two men and woman cowered near him as he would wisper words to them that the giant could not make out. He was probably attempting to console them. Trying to give them false assurance that they would be alright.
It was that moment that Gray, the Prophet, had stepped up on the stage with another man who held a letter in his hands. On the other side of the stage, stood another man with a mask over his face in the shape of a skull with a long black cloak that covered the rest of him. A symbol of death for anyone who dared to harbor a creature such as this. Handing the letter to Gray, the elder coughed in his hand, successfully hushing the crowed with the act, everyone anxious to hear.
“This man is wanted for a crime worse than murder!” He projected for everyone to hear. Everyone within the radius. “He has been caring for a creature of sin! A monstrosity among our kind. Creatures that attack and assault us when we turn our back!” Movement from the corner of his eye made him look over to see Dell. The man didn't have Jane with him, which was probably the best action he could have taken. The toy maker was clenching his fist tightly as he bit his lip to keep from shouting out. Scot stood in the crowed, frozen where he stood with his backpack casually slung over his shoulder as he paled, no doubt coming home from school. Turning back to Gray, he could only stand there and watch. Gray rambled on.
“Resisting arrest and assaulting an officer of the law and an unarmed IRC guard.” He stood in front of Francis, face close to the Frenchman's as he spoke the next few words. “Repent and your life with be spared.
The world seemed to stop as Francis instantly spat in Gray's face and shouted out “Nique ta mere!” which made many of the French immigrants to gasp and the rest snort in disdain. Casually, Gray just wiped the saliva off with his handkerchief and gave one order.
“Pull the lever.”
Keeler had grown bored in the shack. Misha's note had told him that the giant would be back soon. But it was late in the afternoon and the man had yet to return. The submissive's heard had twisted at the loss of the larger man. It worried him that Scott was not here as well. Normally the youth hurried back to the shack to watch his baseball game. He couldn't wait any longer. Stomach churning, he did his best to put on his shoes and tie them before going out the door. He had been outside on his own many times before but it had always been on the property. He knew because Scott had made rope boundaries around where Keeler was allowed to go.
The driveway was somewhere he wasn't supposed to be without Misha or Keeler. But he was worried. What if something happened to his mate and the youth? He could not stand by and wait for them to return. It was something in the back of his head that was pestering him to go out. Leaving the area was terrifying. Not knowing where he was going or what he would expect. But his memories of his time before Misha found him pushed him forward. His instincts from his time as a wild man stuck with him as he continued on. Following the road, his stomach got queasier the further he went.
Throwing up every once in a while, he followed the road in town, recognizing landmarks as he went. Specific plants, shops, statues, or signs. Anything he saw that was familiar, he followed. Joy erupted in him when he saw the town but fear squashed it the closer he got as he noticed a crowed in the center of it. Everyone was watching these people on a wooden platform with rope around their necks. Even Misha was watching. He could see him surrounded by females. Pain etched in his heart. Did his mate reject him for females? He bit his lip. It wasn't uncommon for submissives in the wild to have multiple mates. He knew this. But why did it sting to see Misha with others? A yell from the stage caught his attention and he forgot his pain just in time to see a lever beng pulled and the people on stage fall though square holes below them with the ropes tightening around their necks.
He didn't need Misha to tell him that they were being killed.
The scene was barbaric and brutal to Misha. It was such an old fashion way of execution. Lowering his head, he mourned Francis who would be dead once he stopped wiggling and writhing from where he hung, in complete view for everyone to see. His face going blue as he gasped for air. The other two men suffered the slow fate as Francis. The woman was the exception of this whole ordeal, her neck having snapped by the rope as she fell. It was unpleasant to hear as it was to see. To watch life drain from any creature was a cold thing. Misha found that he could no longer look as he turned his head and went to clinch his eyes shut when he saw, from a distance, Keeler, on the ground, throwing up as he cried and hollared, holding himself as he rocked back and fourth on his knees, having, no doubt, seen what had happened.
The giant's heart broke that day. He stepped from the crowed and pulled away from his sisters, and headed right for the submissive. Only when he reached him, he took the man into his arms and cried along with the man.
Nique ta mere! - (French) "Fuck your mother" this term is very rude and extremely offensive. Just so you know.
Zhanna, Yana, and Bronislav (In the TF2 comic, these were the actual names that Valve gave the Red Heavy's sisters. Zhanna being the oldest, Yana is the middle, and Bronislav being the youngest. Or so I believe that is how their ages are. But it is a fact they are all younger than the Heavy. Read about them here: https://wiki.teamfortress.com/wiki/Non-player_characters#Wheatley
They sat there on the cold road for hours. Slowly, the crowd from earlier, evaporated until not a single person remained other than Dell, who stayed behind to pay his respects as the bodies of the inservires were casually tossed into a fire. His sisters were quick to claim Francis' body, wrapping him in the blanket he had loved during his time in the mansion. Misha couldn't bear to look; the man's face twisted in horror and desperation as they covered his face with the soft blanket. Keeler's smaller body had stopped it's movements and now remained slumped against the giants own, his cries and whimpers now silly little hiccups that made his body jolt every once in a while. Keeler had stopped vomiting and his comforting rocking and now relaxed in the the Russian's arms, staring ahead. He was empty to the world as he held himself loosely, basking in the comfort of Misha's arms.
A bandaged hand fell on Misha's shoulder, making the giant look up and spot Scott. The boy had a mournful expression on his face as he held his phone in his other hand tightly. His lips trembled slightly and his shoulders shook as if he was holding back anger. “My ma called me.” The youth had said. That was all it took for the giant to know something was wrong. “She wants me ta come home. Says we need to talk.” He looked at the ground with blank and empty eyes.
“Francis was that bastards brother. His twin. Ma says that Beal has been worrying 'bout me ever since the riot.” With a snort, he crossed his arms and glared at the road they sat on. “Dunno why.” Looking back up, he grunted. “I gotta go.”
Misha nodded and grabbed the boy's arm with a light reassuring squeeze. “Be safe then. You're stuff with be at the shack for you.”
“Yeah.” Scott had muttered, giving the giant a pat on his own arm with a thankful expression before leaving the two there on the road; vanishing in the small crowd of people on the sidewalk. Once the youth was gone, he turned his attention back to the inservire in his arms. He gave a sad sigh as he looked up at the sky, now orange from the setting sun before bending down enough to give a tender kiss to Keeler's temple, surprised at the simple action of the submissive looking up at him with glossy eyes.
“Are you hungry?” Misha asked in a hush whisper, rubbing the submissive's back. “It is past dinner time and I am not up to cooking. I doubt you are.” Keeler just stared at him. The man made no indication that he had heard the giant for what felt like an eternity. Finally, he nodded slowly, hand moving to rest on his stomach subconsciously. Misha wasted no time to usher the smaller man to his feet and led him to the SUV he had parked a short ways away.
Not once had he taken Keeler to a restaurant. If you asked him, Misha never felt like Keeler was ready for the pressure of behaving in public. The museum trips had been another story. His child like innocence and abnormal behavior could have been mistaken as excitement. Keeler really didn't know how to behave, something that Scott and Misha should have worked more on teaching him about.
Behavior aside, table manners was lacking somewhat. Any other day, he would worry over if someone, anyone, would suspect anything. It was mostly Misha's paranoia, but that kept him and his family alive growing up. But for tonight, tonight he would allow it.
After what Keeler had just witness from the people here, he would allow the man to act however he wanted.........with some supervision. It was with that thought, that he found himself in a small restaurant with very few people in it aside from each other. Sitting in a booth, across from Keeler, who was examining the menu that the waitress had brought them when she took them to their seat. After the submissives fifth time flipping the laminated paper over, Misha grabbed it to halt the movements, getting Keeler's attention.
“I know it is interesting. But you need to find what you want to eat. You remember your lessons right?” He questioned lightly, forcing a small smile on his face, ignoring the laughing and cheery chatter around them as the event earlier brushed his mind. A slow nod from the inservire answered him as he removed his hand to look at his own menu in front of him. All the words looked to blend together. Shift into one big blur, he couldn't make much out. The papers with dates, times, places, and the names of people he was to meet eventually, dug in his side from his pocket.
“Why?” The sudden question from Keeler startled him slightly as he looked up from the menu. “Why what, котёнок?” The old name he had for Keeler slipped from his tongue like an old friend. The name made the submissive smile so small that it was barely there. But it was gone as soon as it arrived as the smaller man continued on. “Why they do it?” The question sounded adorable with Keeler's mixed accents and lack of vocabulary but the words spoken couldn't have been more deathly serious.
“You mean, why did they hang them?” Misha stated, the answer was clear in his head. But a way of voicing it was another issue all together. Keeler just looked back down to his menu like he had done something wrong. Picking up his glass of water that was provided, Misha imagined the water being weak vodka as he gulped it down. “Francis had done something that people here view as a sin.”
Keeler's beautiful blue eyes slowly glanced up at the giant before him. “Sin.” he whispered. “What is that?”
The giant wracked his brain for an explanation as he rubbed his bald head. “An evil deed.” He supplied, praying that the submissuve knew what that was. The smaller man nodded, but it was obvious that he didn't understand. “Our Prophet claims that it is a sin to harbor, or hide in other words, an inservire.” Misha paused with a frown. “Which is you.”
Keeler stiffened in his seat as his hands clinched under the table. His mouth moving slightly to form the words “me”. He gave a sniff and fiddled with the menu. “What happened to them...Happen to you?”
As he inhaled, he berated himself mentally. This wasn't a question Misha wanted to answer. He feared that the answer to it would frighten the skittish male. But Keeler was waiting for a response. And one he would have to receive eventually. Looking around to make sure he wouldn't be heard, he bent closer to Keeler and whispered.
“да. I mean, yes.” He coughed in his hand. “Yes, it could. As long as no one finds out.” The submissives lips were quivering as his eyes glistened with unshed tears at the thought. A quiet whimper escaped from those soft lips as he brought a fist to his mouth and bit his knuckle. “I no want you die.” A warm feeling filled his chest at hearing this and the giant reached over and gripped Keeler's shaking hand that was curled into a fist on the table.
“I won't die.” He assured, rubbing a thumb over those pale knuckles that felt really smooth. “But we must keep this quiet. Alright?” There was another nod from the inservire and Misha removed his hand with a real smile on his lips. Taking his fist away, Keeler spotted the Russian's smile and gave one of his own, giggling at a goofy thought he had. The atmosphere had gone soft and lax, allowing the two to relax where they resided with their forbidden bond.
And that was all it took to ruin the friendly feeling as Abby came over to the booth, sporting a brand new IRC uniform with matching radio and tazer gun attached to her belt. Keeler paled instantly, knowing the outfit by heart since Scott had taken it onto himself to teach the inservire how to spot an IRC from a mile away. Misha sat up straight with his shoulders tense. Once joyful smile was replaced with a false grin as he greeted the woman with an outstretched arm.
“Good afternoon Abby.” He greeted, lowering his arm. “What brings you here?” Inside he was screaming, hoping that his voice lacked the true words he tried to hide. 'What are you doing here?! Dressed like that?!' She took this as an invitation to sit as she plopped down beside Keeler, who sat as still as a statue, not making eye contact with the brunette beside him.
“I'm celebrating my sucess for my first capture.” She chirped, giving a proud smirk to herself. Misha blanket, feeling Keeler's hands grip his pants leg in his desperation to get out from between the wall and the new IRC officer. “Success? Capture?”
Abby nodded as she leaned forward, clasping her hands together excitedly. “Yeah! The hanging earlier, that was from my first inservire hunt. The captain was so surprised that I had managed to find one. Imagine the shock he suffered when I brought three and a traitor.” Her hands reached over the table and grasped Misha's large hand and stoked his own knuckles.
“I was so scared. The others tell me it'll get better.” Misha felt sick and wanted to desperately pull his hand away from her grasp. But he knew in doing so, would cause a scene. Abby had a tendency do that when she wanted something. So he let her hold his hand. He wouldn't say a word since his other hand took a hold of Keeler's under the table and squeezing it, feeling a frightened squeeze in return.
“That's......great.” What else could he say? Nothing. He couldn't say what he wanted for fear of being hanged himself. As dramatic as that sounded, most of what he wanted to say had to do with the man in front of him. She giggled and gave him a coy grin. “Are you proud of me? I was thinking of you during the hunt. Kept me strong.” He felt sick. Her attraction to him made his skin crawl and her lips, red with lipstick, made him think of the blood that dripped from the female inservire from earlier when her neck snapped.
But he swallowed down his disgust and kept up his smile and gripped her hand tightly. “Yes, I am. I am glad I do that for you.” It was easy to lie. He could see that Keeler knew it wasn't true, what he was saying.
“Yeah. When I was near that wooden shack, it reminded me of you. Of when we would walk in town. You haven't been around town lately. I missed you.”
“Murderer.” The soft word slipped from Keeler's mouth so suddenly as he glared at the table. The accusation was so silent that it sounded like a harsh and bitter hiss. The air was thick as Abby turned to face him as if she had just noticed him, giving him a sharp, inspecting look as she examined him, the submissive, looking back at her, blank faced.
“Ah,” The giant cleared his throat. “This is Keeler. He is new to the country. An old friend of mine from.....Russia.” Both people across from him just held their staring match as this was said. Instantly, Abby's eyes brightened with a strained smile on her face. “Oh.” She gasped, bringing a hand to her heart. “Really? Misha's never mentioned you.”
“I not surprised.” Keeler had exaggerated his accent, making it sound thicker than it actually was. “Russia not......Real home?” He looked to the Giant, obviously uncomfortable with speaking to her, not knowing what to say next.
The real Russian had to break in there, fearing for the smaller man. “He was not born in Russia. He moved there when we were in highschool.” Her head switched between them, glancing back and forth as they spoke before turning back to Keeler.
“Then where are you from?” She asked, leaning closer to him, clearly interested. Upon closer examination, Misha could see his breath quicken but had to force himself to remain in his seat. Inhaling deeply, the submissive responded sitting up straighter. “Is small place between Russian and....” He paused, eyes shifting to Misha, but only for a moment. “And Germany. Called Nunya.” Covering his mouth, Misha quickly coughed to dispel his laughter at the prank the man had risked. Another thing Scott had taught him. Yet it sounded legit. With his Russian/bostian accent and slight southern twang, the way he said “Nunya” sounded more like “Noonhiah”, which, if you really think about it, sounded like an actual place.
She gasped and held her hands together. “Really?” She exclaimed. “That sounds lovely. So it's between the borders then?” Not knowing how to answer, Keeler gave a stiff nod, gripping the giants hand tighter who, once again, squeezed back. Before more could be said between the IRC and the inservire, The waitress had returned, giving a confused look at the extra customer that had appeared. Noticing her, Abby quickly excused herself back to her table, leaving the two to order.
“What will you two have?” She asked pleasantly, flipping her blonde hair over her shoulder as she held a notepad in front of her. “Ah.” Misha flipped through the menu quickly. “Uh, fish sandwich, please.” then handed the laminated paper to her. Taking it, she nodded and wrote it down and turned to Keeler, who was shaking where he sat, looking like death had just passed. “And you, sweetly?” This startled the inservire a little as he jumped and looked at her with wide eyes.
“Hun, you ok there?” Relaxing at the sweet tone of her voice, he gulped. “Yes.” croaked the submissive as he handed her the menu as Misha did. “Number five please.” writing it down, she gave a charming smile. “Alright, it will be out in a few minutes.
Once she left, Misha arched an eyebrow. “Number five? Why that?” He questioned, stroking the hand he held under the table. Risking a glance over at the table where Abby sat, He chuckled, gaining a confused look from Keeler.
“I wonder how long it will take her to realize that Germany and Russia are not connected to each other.” He chuckled. The submissive blinked. “They not?” the giant laughed at the question. “Poland is in between them, among other countries. Territory is another thing altogether though.”
Keeler stared down at the table in thought.
They went home after the meal. They hadn't said a word to each other during the ride. When they got there, it was uncomfortably silent without Scott. Normally the youth would be playing his games and screaming at the screen, whether in joy or anger. The darkness that creeped in the beach shack was ominus. It was because of that did Misha turn on the light and sat down on the couch. He'd have to hire another cook for his mother and sisters.
While he was thinking of that, he went over to where the phone sat on the table next to the couch and saw the recorder. He had five unheard messages. He groaned and rested his head against the back of the couch. He'd listen to them tomorrow.
“You not want me?” Keeler asked suddenly, stepping hesitantly in front of him where the giant sat. Bringing his head up, he gave the smaller man a puzzling look. Saw the sad look the man held. “What do you mean by that? Do I not want you here?”
Shaking his head negatively, the submissive played with his shaggy hair, the short locks glistening from the light. “No. Not want me. Mate.” He supplied. The giant could only blink as he brought his arms up to hold himself up on the couch. His throat went dry.
“I see the.....females. You want them?” with each word, Keeler stepped closer tentatively until he was right at Misha's legs and knelt down to rest his chin on the giant's knees. “Don't leave me.”
Quickly, Misha sat up and took the inservire's head, cradling his face tenderly. “Those are my sisters.” He stated. “You are not making since. Mate?” Then it clicked in his mind as he gave a frown. “Keeler. What happened that night wasn't supposed to happen. We weren't supposed to....sleep together.” He looked at the small form at his knees sadly. “This pregnancy was forced on you. You did not want it.”
“I did! I did!” Exclaimed Keeler, grabbing the Russian's pants with a glare. “Did want! Chose you! My mate!”
Misha sighed and traced the chin he held in his hands. Marveling at the, as always, handsome features the man held. He felt his heart flutter at the sight, at the words. But he would not bring himself to force this on the smaller man. If the giant had been a selfish man, he would have accepted this without question. But Misha wasn't selfish. Not normally.
Keeler, sensing the large male's distress, placed one hand on the large one on his face. “Chose you.” He insisted. Sighing again, the giant took his free hand and rubbed his face. “Fine, you chose me.” He stated, playing along. “Why?”
The submissives eyes brightened as he grinned, letting out a chirp that he hadn't uttered in nearly a year. “Saw you before. Tracked you. Heart pained for you. Made choice. Got lost. You find.” He purred and nuzzled into the warm palm on his face. “Wanted you. My mate. I am claimed.”
Removing his hand, he stared down at the inservire before him, feeling his own heart squeeze painfully in his chest. “What are you saying?” He leaned forward, mind racing at what he was hearing. Keeler's blue eyes sparkled in mischief as he purred, hugging the giant's waist and inhaled his large mates sent.
“Was fifteen hot suns. Saw you on floating house. Bark digging in my skin. Felt connection.” He looked up to meet the Russian's eyes. “Horse man says that I had crush. He my age at time. Horse man got his mate.”
“Horse man?” Misha questioned, mind racing, trying to place an image of anyone that resembled a horse. Nodding enthusiastically, Keeler squeaked. “Horse man taught me to hunt. I track you. For years not find. Then that night. I find. You feed.” His eyes warmed and gleamed. “Love you. Horse man said it was.” He went back to nuzzling the stomach, feeling Misha caress his hair as the giant stared down at him fondly. He finally connected what the submissive had said. Understood that Keeler had found him because of his attraction. And for once, Misha accepted it without question. For he found himself fighting the same attraction, busying himself with chores and work.
“I....hesitate to say I feel the same.” He admitted shamefully. The inservire said nothing as he stood up and kissed Misha on the lips, wrapping his arms around the giant's thick throat. “Then we are mates.” He whispered and crawled to sit on Misha's lap, feeling and enjoying the giant's arms wrapping around him. He sighed in content. Closing his eyes and enjoying the moment.
Minutes passed as they held each other, feeling very much like they had just married one another. It only broken when Misha broke away with a question. “Who is 'Horse man'?”
Giving a knowing grin, the smaller male gave a small giggle. “He cared for me. I take you to him tomorrow?”
The giant nodded with a smile. That sounds like a plan.”
The man set his drink down with a loud clatter. "Ya come inta' my van and demand answers. And all the while, I'm left to mourn the death of the love of me life." Quickly, the Australian spun on the heels of his boots and glared at the giant of a man before him. "I lost me best mate! Nothing you could do ta me could be worse than the pain I feel now!"
Chapter 17: NOTE! Please read!
Nobody panic. This story is still being worked on. I am just having trouble finding the energy and the motivation to write but some of my stories already have been started on their next chapters. Please be patient and Know I am still working on them.
Chapter 18: Horse Man
Sorry for the long wait. But I can not tell you how much I appreciate your patience for this story and I am sorry it is so short. With working and other stuff, it's hard to get motivated but I managed to get another chapter out. Sorry about the sloppy work, I'm a little rusty. now all I have to do is write another chapter for my other stories.
To this day, I am surprised at the amount of positive feedback I get from these. If you spoke to me about my stories over five years ago, you'd be surprised at all the negative comments I had gotten and I almost stopped writing all together. But I am glad I stuck with it. I hope you all continue to read and love the story.
Oh, and thank you May for your fanart for this story. I know it was a long time ago but I still look at it and my heart swells. Thank you again and thank you to my readers.
To say that he wasn't terrified out his mind would have been a complete lie. One would never have believed it if they didn't know Misha. In truth, there were many thing that frightened him and this was one of them. Turns out, Keeler's "Horse Man" lived out in the middle of the forest where every known and reported inservire were inhabited. According to Keeler, Horse Man lived in a trailer that was well hidden if you didn't know the location. Keeler was excited as Misha drove closer to the forest; the submissive was practically hopping in his seat the closer they got. They had to leave at night, so it would be easier to hide should any IRC appear, scouting the forest line like they tended to do. It didn't take brains to know that Misha would have to park a good distance away so as to not bring suspision upon him. The last thing he wanted was for him and his family to get in trouble by the law; among other things suck as Keeler being taken away and killed, the unborn child the submissive carried being murdered along with him. No...that was not a choice he was going to make for a simple risk, such as this was. Pulling along an old shoe store, Misha practically had to hold the submissive back from rushing to the woods the second he got out of the SUV.
"We mustn't be hasty котёнок."He scolded gently. " Do not want to get caught." Keeler gave a pout but agreed silently with a nod of his head, knowing the dangers. The giant sighed, letting go of the back of Keeler's hoodie. He hadn't wanted to hold him back but he obviously couldn't let him go either. With a sigh, he took Keeler's hand in his own, trying to calm his heart and slow his breathing. He was not one for stealth, neither was his smaller lover; both well known for stumbling over their own feet if they were careless. So they'd have to take extra care in moving slower than need be.
It took over a couple hours, or at least, it felt like it. They had barely managed to avoid the light of a couple IRC, hiding behind bushes and cars until they were able to slip into the forest, unnoticed. Throughout all this, their hands squeezed each others tighter, their hearts beating so loudly that Misha feared the IRC officers could hear them. It wasn't until they were a good distance away from the scouting IRC, did Keeler relax his tense grip and giggle happily, his chest moving quickly from his frantic gasping.
"Made it, Heavy..." Keeler had squeaked softly, his voice shaking from his fear, another nervous chuckle escaped his lips. Misha nodded, mentally soothing himself that they had escaped danger for the moment, and was able to finally relax.
"Is this man nearby?" He managed to force out, his body shaking from adrenaline. Keeler looked around, sniffing and humming before chirping with a grin on his face.
"Yes, yes." He confirmed, pulling the giant further into the woods. "Close. Is close." The submissive was beaming in his excitement. "I show." And at that joyful look that the inservire threw him, Misha could only smile and follow.
Pushing past branches, leaves and stepping over rocks and holes, Keeler had managed to lead them to the area in which the "Horse Man" resided. It was not what the giant had expected. He would have thought that there would have been a small shack or a campsite, cleverly hidden in the foliage; so hard to see if not by the trained eye. Instead, what he saw was a crudely decorated camper that had simple camouflage and a few branches attached to it. Granted it was hard to spot until Keeler had pointed it out, but then it was painstakingly obvious where the vehicle resided. Honestly, Misha wondered how no one knew where it was to begin with.
The sight of the camper seemed to almost revert the inservire back to when Misha had first found him as he let out a squeak and ran over to the vehicle and pushing the door open. The door made no noise and was surprisingly quiet and well oiled. Frowning, the Russian could only follow his pregnant lover and step inside. This proved to be a poor decision on his account. The camper was crowded; too crowded for his large frame and he just barely made it inside. He had no choice but to step out of the van with a groan from the camper itself as his heavy weight was removed from it. Keeler, on the other hand, remained inside, chirping and squeaking as he cuddled on the blanket the “Horse Man” had on his bed. It was actually a cute sight and the giant found a smile tugging on his lips when he found a blade at the edge of his neck.
“Yeh got three seconds ta tell me wot yer doing here before Oi gut yeh and sever yer head from yer body.” That was a voise he didn't know and found himself frozen on the spot. The blade of the machete on his neck was cold and he could hear his heart pounding. He opened his mouth but found, to his horror, that he could not form words that he needed. So he just settled for the growl that escaped him. The man apparently didn't like that and pressed it deeper, making a thin cut along Misha's throat, a trickle of blood slid down his skin and onto the blade in a crimson trail and it would have been followed by the rest of his blood if Keeler didn't squeak loudly and jump in front of Misha like a frantic deer.
“No! No! Mate! My chosen! No hurt him, Horse man!” The blade fell limp slightly before there was a sputter and a laugh as the machete was removed all together, allowing Misha to turn to see the lankiest man he had ever seen. The Australian didn't look like he ever ate with how thin he was and Keeler had it right. He did look like a horse with his long face and shaggy hair which was neatly covered with a rugged hat.
“Squeaker!!!” The man had called out and opened his arms, allowing Keeler to chirp and jump in them, nuzzling in the mans arms. “Since when could you talk?!” He smiles and cuddled the inservire, rubbing his face in the smaller man's hair. “And yeh smell so noice!”
Keeler let out a giggle. “Heavy took good care of me!” he had chirped out with a smile, looking over at Misha's form and pulling away to cuddle close to the giant, who was more than happy to hold his lover close. The interactions surprised the thin man as he took his hat off to scratch his head and look over the towering giant wearily.
"Heavy, huh? Strange name fer a man loike yeh." He put the hat back on his head. " Yet it oddly fits." Misha just gave a grunt at that before he speaks.
"My name is Misha Demidovsky, not Heavy." The giant looked down at his small inservire who just looked up at him with a cheeky grin and nuzzle in the Russian's arms. "Although I have no problems responding to it. The nickname sounds familiar."
The Australian gave a snort as he eyed Misha with a snarl that suddenly appeared on his face. "Demidovsky.." The way the thin man said his name turned Misha's stomach. It was laced with acid and hatred. Oddly enough, it made the giant sick and it was clear that the second he had mentioned his last name, he had made an enemy. Pushing his sick feelings aside, he couldn't help but hold his lover tighter.
"He's.... pregnant... We need your help to escape the city. Keeler here," He nodded his head to the inservire in his arms. "Said that you smuggled him in and out of the city often...."
The man just gave him a heated look and step inside his van, closing the door, not saying a word as the smell of coffee wafted out of the van. Keeler gave a whine in the giant's arms and pulled away, going to the door and tapping it weakly as he let out soft squeaks. Crossing his arms, Misha stood on the side of the van, waiting to see if the man decided to come out.
After a few minutes, his patients have been worn thin and he didn't wait in taking the door handle; allowing Keeler enough time to run off, before he opened the door, surprised that it wasn't locked, to see the Australian sitting there at his table, nursing a mug of coffee and raising a brow as if he was waiting for the giant to do that.
"A little extreme, mate." He spat out and gave a snarl. With a flaring nose, Misha pushed what he could of himself in the van and slams his hand on the table, making it rattle.
"What you see as 'extreme', I call necessity! We need your help! Both of our heads are on the chopping block if we're caught! You are the only man I can trust! DeGroot already got us papers and someone on the mainland but we need you to get us there! I don't know what it is about me that turned the sight of me sour but I need you to push it away for Keeler's sake."
The man just took an annoyingly long sip of his coffee as he watched the giant. Finally lowering the mug, he grumbled. "Francis had been working fer yer family fer over ten years... He was under yer care...." He glared at the giant. "And yeh let him hang. Oi won't help you." The Australian looked ready to snap with how red he went. His eyes were flooded with anguish that he had refused to show on his face. This threw the giant for a loop but he remained strong.
Sighing, Misha rubbed his face and looked the smaller man in the eye. "What happened to Francis was unfortunate. He was a good man and a good cook. But he was foolish and got caught. He was harboring inservires and lacked care-"
The Australian snarled, cutting Misha off. "Shut the fuck up! Yer' doing the same bloody thing! Harboring Squeaker, a inservire, and have the nerve ta accuse Francis of being in the wrong!"
With a frown, The Russian took deep breaths and waited until the Australian was done before he continued. "And that is why we need your help. So we don't end up like him. For the sake of the baby. I do not want to have to force you... Please..." Misha pleaded, turning his head. He looked over at Keeler who was oddly quiet, holding himself and shaking. His belly slightly round from where he was just faintly getting ready to show. With a smile, Misha couldn't hide the smile from his face at how beautiful the man looked at that moment. Seeing the giant's smile, Keeler gave his own smile back. It was such a beautiful sight, he was afraid to turn back to the "horse man" who looked outraged.
The man set his drink down with a loud clatter. "Ya come inta' my van and demand answers. And all the while, I'm left to mourn the death of the love of me life." Quickly, the Australian spun on the heels of his boots and glared at the giant of a man before him. "I lost me best mate! Nothing you could do ta me could be worse than the pain I feel now!"
Misha said nothing as he stared opened mouthed at the man. Looking down in thought, he couldn't stop the feeling of guilt from flooding through him. The Australian was breathing heavily though his teeth as he held his mug tightly in his hands as tears poured down his face.
"I had no idea," the Russian admitted. "I had no idea that you were a couple... He said nothing to me....I am sorry, for your loss. I really am..."
There was a long pause before the man managed to calm down to speak. "Because Oi'm wanted by the bloody Prophet. They want me dead fer taking care of the inservires here..." He looked over to the side of the van, followed by Misha's gaze and he was so surprised. He had never noticed the crib that housed the baby inservire inside that slept so peacefully though the yelling. The man gave a weak smile as a few more tears poured from his eyes.
"He named that one Claude..... He was rather fond of that little one....." He turned and looked back to Misha. "Oi.... Accept yer apology... But the pain will be with me fer me entire loife...." Quickly rubbing his face he stood up straight. "Oi will help yeh.. But yeh have ta do exactly wot oi tell yeh."
Misha nodded, giving a weak smile and pulled out of the van, followed by the man. "Thank you.... I can't tell you how much I appreciate this." He held out his hand to the Australian who just slapped it away with a glare at him.
"Oi'm not doing it fer you! Oi'm doing it fer Francis!......And the squeaker." He stated and smiled at Keeler who ran and hugged him again. The man chuckled and rubbed Keeler's hair. "If it does go wrong, well... At leat Oi'll get ta see me love again." He held his hand to Misha. "Kindle Mundy... At yer service. And no cracks at me name. Ma loved it."
He didn't comment on the name and he wasn't going to. Instead, the giant just clasped the Kindle's hand in his own with a smile. "It is a pleasure to work with you."
Kindle hummed and snorted. "We'll see how much of a pleasure it'll be when yeh find out wot yeh have ta do."
The crate was crowded and made him jump every time it moved. The men carrying grunted and Misha was surprised at how well they held his weight. He only hoped that Keeler would remain quiet when they got to his crate. The last thing they needed was to be spotted.
Chapter 19: Important Imports
Ahhah.. HAHAHAHA!! Don't kill me please!!! So, new chapter aside, This was a surprise. It took me so long to find my love for TF2 back. So much has happened and Two of those things almost made me fall out of love with the game. They were hard blows and I almost didn't recover. But if you're still reading this, then I can't tell you how sorry I am that it took this long to get another chapter made. I am so happy and so fortunate to have wonderful people who have waited and loved for this story to update.
On another note, I am going through some of my stories and fixing them up. The fixes won't be quick or right away. But going back, I feel like I should. I need to read this story again to get back into the plot I gave it. But I'm reminded why I fell in love with this story. It was the best story I had written at the time and I was so fortunate to have loving people who offered to beta and even to have someone draw a picture for me of it. I still have it and it was drawn so beautifully. I'm back to working on this story. I am so sorry for the long hiatus. I never abandon a story without telling you guys.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
The crate was crowded and made him jump every time it moved. The men carrying grunted and Misha was surprised at how well they held his weight. He only hoped that Keeler would remain quiet when they got to his crate. The last thing they needed was to be spotted. It was a hard enough feat for Kindle to sneak them into crates to begin with. But with the right people and the correct amount of bribery, they were on their way to freedom. Or at least, the first step. Misha still had to get citizenship for Keeler and an id. The difficult part would be to explain on how he had remained "hidden" for long. Kindle had assured him that the people he was sending them to would be able to help in regards to Keeler and his identity, but that hadn't stopped the giant from worrying.
And where had worrying gotten him? In a wooden crate that was currently being carried by two disgruntled sailors with Keeler's being carried behind them. Sure, Misha wasn't exactly required to be smuggled, but had he gone the legal way, it would have put his family in danger of the IRC and the Protesters that had been plaguing the streets. It worried him. Even with the note telling them that he had gone on a business trip and would be back once his work was done, he knew they would worry. Since the death of his father, they feared for him despite Misha being the care taker of his mother and sisters. But they would be safe, they had to be.
It was fortunate that Tavish's papers had gotten them this far. Being labeled as important and fragile imports to the mainland was the best thing the man could do for them on short notice. But they had done the job. Now it was up to Kindle to play the part of escort. Misha only hoped that the hope he placed on the Australians shoulders would be enough. With a jostle, the crate gave a creek as it was set down with a loud CLANG, almost electing a grunt of pain from him.
"Careful, mate!" Misha could hear Kindle exclaim disapprovingly. "These are the town's only hope fer getting any koind of coinage around here! Yeh Tryin' ta bankrupt us!"
"Calm down, drifter. It was hardly on purpose. Next time we'll be sure to use the EXTRA special hands next time." While the sarcasm was thick as frozen clay, Kindle was professional smuggler and obviously, he hadn't missed a beat in the slightest.
"Make sure yeh do! Any damage would be on yer head AND yer wallet."
"Alright, alright. I get it... god" And with that, the sailor went on his way, footsteps clinking with the metal of the ships haul as he faded in the distance."
Hearing Kindle hiss under his breath, Misha could barely hear the muttering of "drifter, me arse. they can bite the left soide of me arsecheek." the Australian uttered as he strode to the crate the Russian was boxed in. Kneeling next to the crate, the man's knuckled rapped on them, a sign of the all clear as he awaited the giant man to knock back; a knock that the giant was more than willing to return.
"It'll be only a few more hours until oi can let yeh out of the crate. Oi have ta wait fer me insider ta give the all clear. And then all yeh have ta do it wait until we reach land."
"What about the men who brought us on board?" Misha questioned, moving as slowly and as carefully as he could as to not make the crate move in his efforts to get comfortable and to nurse his injured shoulder from the fall.
"They're shoremen. Won't leave the dock until their actual ship arrives. They're stationed fer loading and unloading. Yeh'd be foine once we're in motion." Was the quick response Kindle supplied, grinding his teeth on the toothpick between his lips. "Don't worry, bubble. Yer old uncle has things under control. Been doing this fer years." Hearing the quiet poke at his current pride, even if it was for amusement, was hardly anything to brighten his mood.
"Funny." He grumbled from where he was curled in the crate. "What about Keeler? Has he been brought aboard yet?"
Kindle snorted. "They brought him on board before you. Whoile they were busy with yeh, Oi went ahead and let him out and hid him in the room yeh both are sharing."
"Wha-!" Keeler was let out? While that had made things easier, why was he let out and Misha was still in the crate, left to be in the heat and small, enclosed space.
"Look, mate!" At hearing the giant was about to make an argument, the smuggler was quick to defend himself. "He's smaller than yeh and can easily pass off as a new recruit to those on the docks. Yer bloody MASSIVE! There was no way Oi could have covered fer yeh!. Besoide, the squeaker had ta pee."
"Had to go bad! Heavy okay?" The wood of the crate gave a soft noise as Keeler placed his hands on it, concerned for his mate; an action that evaporated all of Misha's anger away. As long as Keeler was alright, then Misha would endure his small enclosure.
"So, yeh... We'll see yeh in foive hours."
Son of a-
The ships horn was currently his only friend besides Keeler.
Sorry this is so short! The chapters will get longer. This one was not only an update, but also served as a way for me to tell you all that I'm still alive and this story is still alive!! AHHH!!