Lee chapter 37

[maculategiraffe]

Note: Chapter 36 went thattaway.


Bran did tell Jer about their trip, in detail, while he mixed a bunch of things together in various bowls, rubbed some greasy stuff in some pans, and filled them with a gooey brown mixture. Jer listened and commented, though he didn't make as many ribald remarks about Lee's part in everything as might have been expected. When Bran put on a pair of large, shapeless padded gloves from a rack near the stove, he and Jer both stopped talking; Bran opened the oven, from which a rush of heat emerged, put the pans carefully inside, then closed it, pulled off the gloves and came to sit back down, smiling, and started talking again. Jer grinned at him, but said nothing.

Lee tuned in and out, hearing bits and pieces; he was suddenly feeling very tired, though he felt less in danger of falling asleep then simply happy to be sitting still with no one paying much attention to him. He did prick his ears briefly at the mention of the phone call from the person named Jesse, but Jer and Bran both sent quick glances at Lee and didn't discuss that any further. Lee didn't really mind that; the idea that there were things that were healthier for him not to know wasn't exactly a new one to him. It was considerate of Jer and Bran to refrain from discussing sensitive matters in front of him, instead of taking his former master's approach and punishing him afterwards for having heard what he hadn't been able to help hearing.

He was startled from a half-daze by Jer's guffaw when Bran got to the part about the girl on the train who had given him her phone number.

"Are you going to call her?" Jer asked, still laughing. "Seems rude to just leave her hanging."

"Very funny," said Bran. "Is that something free people do a lot, do you think? Just hand people their phone numbers? I mean, for all she knows, I'm married with a kid."

"Or your owner is." Jer winked at Lee, but looked away before Lee could decide what facial expression to have. "She probably wouldn't care if you were. Married people sleep around all the time. If they can't afford sex slaves, they do it with each other."

Bran, who was watching the clock intently and had gotten up a few times to check the pans in the oven, did so again, but he and Jer chattered for a while longer before Bran finally put the gloves on again to take the pans out and put them on a wire rack. He carefully turned the oven off, took off the gloves, picked up the paring knife, and slid it into one of the loaves; after he'd inspected the knife and put it back down, Bran turned around and focused, suddenly, on Lee.

"Oh, Lee, you're exhausted!" he said, and Lee smiled vaguely, wondering why Bran sounded so guilty. "Jer, I'm going to take him upstairs, okay? Let him have a nap before dinner."

"Okay," said Jer, looking amused. "Just leave these here?"

"Yeah, they need to cool anyway," said Bran, and helped Lee to his feet, more than he really needed to be helped. "If the master asks, tell him we're in Lee's room?"

"Sure thing, kid," said Jer, and Bran led Lee from the room.

Lee had been a little worried they would run into Miss Valor on the way up the stairs, but they didn't run into anybody. Bran was solicitous in helping Lee lie down on the bed and settling a pillow under his head before he lay down next to him and kissed him softly. Lee wondered if Bran wanted to have sex now, but he didn't seem to, or at least he didn't say anything or touch Lee suggestively.

"I wasn't thinking how tired out you'd be by all this traveling," said Bran remorsefully, and Lee smiled at him.

"It's okay," he said. "I guess I didn't get much sleep last night, either."

"You didn't?" Bran looked surprised, but not displeased, as he added, "Wait-- why not? Did you and he-- do anything, last night? While I was with her ladyship?"

"I--" Lee found himself trembling again, not sure how Bran would react to this. He didn't know what had possessed him, himself. "No-- but-- I--" His throat constricted, but he managed to croak, "--put my hand. On his--"

"On his--?" Bran stared. "His cock?"

Lee hid his face against the pillow, and felt Bran stroke his back reassuringly.

"It's okay," Bran said, and pressed a kiss to Lee's hair, and it sounded as if he were trying not to laugh when he added, "I was just-- surprised. What did he do?"

"Nothing," said Lee, relieved and a little embarrassed. "I mean, he didn't get angry, but he didn't use me, either. He just-- I don't know-- he held me, and he said some things. About-- he said I was good, and sweet, and-- but he just-- he said he was tired. I don't-- and he said something-- before, about a-- about there not being a-- spark..." Lee took a deep breath. "Bran, I don't think he-- w-wants me."

"Maybe not," said Bran thoughtfully. "That could be for the best, though, Lee. I mean, I know you said you didn't mind if he wanted to take you again, but--"

"I don't mind anything," said Lee, tears springing to his eyes. "I thought-- I thought he liked it, when he took me. Why doesn't he want me?"

"Oh, Lee." Bran reached out and pulled him close. "It's okay. It's okay for him not to want you. He's still going to take care of you, and find you a good home. It's like how he still lets us have orgasms, even if we haven't-- even if he hasn't taken us."

"I don't understand," Lee almost wailed. "We're slaves. We have to-- earn--"

"No, sweetheart," said Bran softly. "We can't earn anything, because we're slaves. Free people earn things, and own the things they earn, but we only get what our masters decide we get. Whether we deserve it or not. I mean, do you really think you deserved everything bad Lord Dunaev did to you? Do you think I deserved what he did to me?"

"No," Lee whispered, "not-- not you--"

"Not you, either," said Bran. "You and I had bad luck for a while, and now we've got good luck. But neither of us deserved to get sold into slavery in the first place. Nobody deserves--"

Lee squeaked in pain as Bran's tightening arms crushed him. Bran loosened his grip immediately, whispering, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, are you okay?"

Lee couldn't do any more than nod and look up at Bran, who had moved away slightly to overcompensate. After a moment, he whispered, "Bran, do you think-- then do you think-- you deserve what you get-- here?"

Bran was quiet for a while, and then he laughed a little.

"I don't know," he said. "I'm only still here because I was bad-- because I ran away. I don't think he would have kept me if I'd just kept on being good. And this morning, when I argued with him about Miss Valor, that wasn't-- being good. But it-- it was good, you know? That I did it. Sometimes being a good slave isn't being a good-- a good person-- Lee, we're still people, you know? You and me."

After another long silence, during which Lee's mind was racing, Bran added pensively, "Lee, you know how you call sex-- being used?"

"Is that wrong?" Lee asked, alarmed. "To call it that?"

Bran smiled. "It's okay. But notice he doesn't call it that?"

"He calls it fucking," Lee agreed. "Should I say that too?"

"It doesn't matter," said Bran, rubbing his palm along Lee's back. "I'm just saying, he doesn't think of it as just-- making use of us. Of me, or you, either. Remember how careful he was, when he took you? Not to make it hurt?"

Lee nodded. "I-- thought it must please him, to-- to be-- gentle."

"Because he wanted it to be good for you," said Bran. "Not just for him. And not just because... Lee, you know how Lord Dunaev got so angry when we cried? And hit us for it? Did you ever think about why that was?"

"I thought it was because it was wrong, not to want what the master did to us," said Lee, and then remembered, and blurted, "But that's not right-- your mind, your mind is your own, nobody can tell you what to want--"

"Right," said Bran, smiling his beautiful smile. "But he didn't like that we even-- existed, outside of what he wanted us to be. He wanted us to enjoy being used because he thought that was what we were for, so if he fucked us and we cried, that meant there was something wrong with us, you know? Like we were malfunctioning. Except," he added, struck, "he was the kind of person who kicks a thing when it malfunctions, instead of actually trying to fix it, you know? And then trades it in."

Now that his own bruises from the kickings in question had healed, Lee couldn't help smiling a little at the analogy, since he had witnessed his former master kicking and swearing at things other than Lee before, never to very good effect.

"But we weren't malfunctioning, anyway," Bran continued. "We were just-- being us. I mean, when you cried when the master fucked you, it wasn't because anything was wrong. So it was okay. He understands that we-- feel things. Besides just what he does to us. Lee? Are you okay?"

"Bran," said Lee, and realized he was trembling. "I-- when we were all in the bed-- when you were both touching me-- he touched me, he made me come-- and I said--"

"You said 'I love,'" Bran supplied gently. "And then you stopped. What were you going to say? That you love him? Or me?"

Now that Bran had said it, and was still touching him tenderly, Lee could say, though it cost him another shiver, "I-- was going to say-- him."

Bran nodded, his expression grave and sweet, and Lee took a breath. "But-- and-- you."

Bran smiled.

"I love you too, sweetheart," he said simply. "And so does he."

Lee stared. "You-- he-- what?"

"Don't tell him that, though," said Bran, smiling at Lee as if inviting him to share a joke. "He's a little squirrely about the word. But you can tell, can't you?"

"I don't know," said Lee honestly. "I never-- nobody ever--" He took a breath. "What-- what does it mean?"

"Well," said Bran thoughtfully, "what does it mean when you say you love him? Not the same thing it did when I realized I loved him-- I don't think. You don't hate the idea of being sold, do you?"

"I-- don't think I'm ready," said Lee tentatively, and Bran nodded agreement.

"I don't either," he said, "but you really like Lord Taganov and Mona, don't you? I mean, eventually, you wouldn't mind the idea of belonging to his lordship, as long as you could still visit with the master and me sometimes. Would you?"

Lee shook his head, and Bran continued, "So when you say you love him-- what do you mean?"

That was a good question.

"I just--" Lee began. "He's so-- you're both so-- good."

"And so are you," said Bran, smiling at Lee, "so we love you too."

Lee gave Bran a skeptical look. "What am I good for?"

"For me," said Bran, and kissed Lee's forehead, clasping him close; Lee snuggled closer, pleased, even if he didn't entirely understand in what sense he was actually good for Bran. "And for him. And for the whole country and all slaves, if this article goes through and does what Miss Valor and Mr. Harper want it to do."

Lee didn't know what to say to that. He had a lot of thoughts about it, though, and thinking must have been more tiring than even a second train trip disguised as a free citizen, because before either of them broke the long silence that followed, Lee had drifted off to sleep in Bran's arms.

Club 8 – Baby, I'm Not Sure If This Is Love