Uncontrollable | Eagle Big Bang (2/2)
Title: Uncontrollable
Author: kenshincha
Artist: ladytiferet
Fandom: The Eagle
Pairing: Esca/Marcus
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 15k
Warnings: slavery, D/s, bondage, rough sex, foodplay
Summary: Marcus is the literary agent to Esca, an eccentric writer who works him like a slave. That all changes when Marcus finds stories where he isn't the slave anymore. Based on this prompt.
Author's Notes: This is by far the longest story I have ever written. I'm pretty proud that I made it, though! HUGE thanks to my beta marlee813 who listened to me rant about it forever and never told me to shut up. Also a big thanks to Tif for her amazing art!
Art Masterpost
Masterpost | AO3 | Part 1 | Part 2
Three in the afternoon was thankfully a more reasonable time to be called.
"You're not going to push me over a couch again, are you?"
"Just be happy I didn't try to go for complete realism and stick an axe in your sternum."
"What do you want me to do?"
"Come here wearing soft-soled shoes, slacks and a dinner jacket."
"Why? Are we going somewhere?"
"You wouldn't happen to have a top hat would you?"
"What? No."
"A bowler?"
"No! The only hats I own are beanies and baseball caps."
"Figures," Esca muttered. "Fine. But wear the clothing and come over."
"Where are we--" he started but was interrupted by the dial tone.
Having no idea what Esca was planning, he wore some of his better clothing. He knew Esca hated those sort of affairs, one of the only positive things about him in one of these moods; the Eagle's PR would need to employ miracles workers if Esca ever left the house.
Esca was in the kitchen and looking grumpy by the time Marcus got there, a large frown under his large sunglasses. Marcus glanced down to see him wearing a strange bright red sweater, torn skinny jeans and untied boots. Clearly not formal wear.
"What's going on?"
Esca turned and headed towards the backyard. "I want to see if you can climb a tree."
"What?"
Esca lead him over to one side of the house and to a large tree that stood close to it. Marcus didn't know anything about trees so he couldn't name it. All he knew was it was tall with thick lined bark and branches with thin, fat leaves.
They stopped bellow it, looking up into the branches. "I need see if you can climb this tree."
"Why?" Marcus did not whine. "Especially in these clothes."
Esca looked up and down Marcus' body, which stiffened in the scrutiny. "I have a character that's your height and build. I need to know if a guy like you can climb a tree."
"Why couldn't you just get Geste to do this for you? He's my build."
"Does he know how to climb a tree?" he asked expectantly.
"I have no idea." How was Marcus supposed to know?
"Do you know how to climb a tree?"
"No!"
"Well, that's the point." Esca looked away, satisfied to have apparently made a very good argument.
Which was bullshit. "What?"
"Fine! You want your motivation?" Esca moved to Marcus' back to try to push him towards the tree. Unlike the shove over the couch, Marcus was ready for it this time and didn't let himself be budged. Esca slammed his shoulder against Marcus like he was trying to get through a locked door. "You are a respectable Victorian gentleman who has lived in the city your entire life. The one you love broke into a solicitor's office to get evidence." Esca grunted as he leaned against Marcus, panting from his lack of endurance. "You see the solicitors suspicious" - pant - "secretary come into the building. You" - pant - "need to warn her before she gets shot."
Marcus' eyes followed up the trunk of the tree, along branches until he finally looked to the window of Esca's office. He had to admit he could picture it all, and could feel anxiety from the imaginary situation settle in his stomach.
"Can't you just assume he can make it?"
Esca shifted against Marcus' back, confidence returning in knowing that he'd won. "This is the closest I've ever been to a tree. I've never seen a squirrel climb a tree, let alone a man."
Marcus sighed and approached the trunk.
"Well, it wasn't exactly what I had been hoping," Esca remarked later, clearly more put out that his original idea hadn't worked than that Marcus had fallen to the ground just as he was reaching for the sill of the second story window. The only thing that saved him from a broken back was all the branches he hit on the way down. He landed on the ground intact with only scrapes and bruises. His nice clothing wasn't so lucky.
Marcus winced at the sting of the alcohol being dabbed on a long cut on his cheek. Esca's hands were surprisingly gentle as he disinfected Marcus' scratches. At first, Marcus thought Esca just wanted to inflict more pain on him.
But here Marcus sat on a dining room chair with Esca standing between his knees, holding his head up with a hand on his jaw. Marcus' eyes darted around, determined to look anywhere but Esca's face.
"Sorry," Marcus said, unfortunately sounding more apologetic and less sarcastic that he wanted, but what could he do with Esca so close and acting so unusually caring? Marcus wasn't about to break this weird spell Esca had slipped into with a challenging remark. Esca would only get angry, and his fingers were in a good position to scratch Marcus' eyes out.
Esca sighed. "I guess his plummet to earth is loud enough to gain both her and the secretary’s attention and will give her a chance to escape."
Esca tilted Marcus' head up higher so he could look at a deep cut under Marcus' chin. He put down the cotton ball and picked up the damp wash cloth. "This might need stitches."
Marcus remembered his chin slamming onto a hard branch. He was just glad he hadn't bitten his tongue clean off. "I'm not letting you anywhere near me with a needle and thread," Marcus said. It was more of a mumble since he couldn't move his jaw with Esca holding it.
Esca gave an amused smile. "Probably for the better. I'd end up sewing your mouth shut instead."
Marcus felt a tension in his body begin to loosen at the playful banter. He had no idea what had gotten into Esca but he didn't want to stop it.
Unfortunately, someone else decided to with the bang of the front door.
"Esca!" Geste shouted into the house before freezing mid-step, finally noticing Esca and Marcus.
Esca didn't step away from being so close to Marcus.
Geste and Esca seemed to exchange some angry eye conversation. Marcus had no idea what was going on, other than that Geste was pissed at Esca and that was nothing new, although it normally didn't seem to ever happen so quickly.
"I'd better go to the doctor," Marcus said, breaking the silence. Geste glared at Marcus. He stood, mindful of the ache in his back and his thigh, accidentally bumping his body against Esca's. "I'll give you a call tomorrow, then." He limped towards the door, Geste stepping back and circling towards Esca like he was ready for a fight.
"Send me the bill," Esca said in a weird sing-song voice.
Marcus looked back. "For the medical services or for the clothing?"
"Both," Esca said dismissively, grabbing the first aid kit and heading for the kitchen.
Marcus left before Geste decided to go after him. He had enough bruises as it was.
Esca could barely keep his hands from shaking as he gently wiped at the dried blood on his Master’s face. He couldn’t blame it on being cold since the bath water Marcus sat in as Esca knelt next to him was warm and steaming. He brought the reddened cloth down to the water to rinse it before bringing it back up.
Esca does not know what happened, as it was not his place to know. He only knew that his Master came home bruised and cut with a large gash in his thigh. Esca had been terrified to see his Master so hurt, and when he was instructed to hold him down so that his cut could be searched, Esca kept himself sobbing, knowing he needed to be strong for his master.
“You look so sad,” Marcus murmured. “Like I am already dead.”
“No, Master!” he said, more denying that Marcus was dead than that he was upset.
His Master smiled and ruffled Esca’s damp hair affectionately. Esca couldn’t help but lean into the touch. “It will take more than that to kill me.”
More than what? Esca wanted to know, but it was clear Marcus was dismissing the subject with his vagueness. Marcus hummed as Esca carefully tilted his Master’s head back so that he could clean under his chin, rubbing the blood away from the scar he got in his days in the army from the helmets.
They were both quiet for a while as Esca worked. Esca paused when Marcus put his large hands on Esca’s hips. “You are too far away.”
Esca gave a surprised squawk as Marcus pulled him over to straddle his injured thigh. “Master, your wounds!” A normal Master would smack Esca for a scolding tone coming from a slave, but Marcus just grinned tiredly.
“It is fine. You weigh little.”
Esca still frowned, trying to slip away.
Marcus laughed and put a large arm around Esca’s waist, holding him tightly against him. “I will feel better with my pretty little slave on my lap.”
Esca wasn’t convinced. He was not that little and he did not want to harm his Master.
Marcus just smiled and took a hold of Esca’s wrist. He brought the washcloth that was clutched in Esca’s fingers to his face. The other hand that had been resting on his hip moved back and down. Esca whimpered as he felt the pad of a large finger rub against his hole. “The sooner you clean me, the sooner I can make you dirty, little one.”
Esca began to clean his face quickly, probably too rough for his Master’s injuries. Marcus just laughed at his eagerness.
“You look awful!” Cottia said as she sat down across from him. Starbuck’s tables were always so tiny that she had to sit sideways since there was no room under the table for her with his large legs in the way. “What in the world happened?”
Marcus rubbed his hand through his hair. It had been a week ago, but that just gave his bruises time to turn dark, green and sickly. “I fell from a tree.”
“What?!” she squawked, gaining many glances from the people around them. “Why in the world were you in a tree?”
Marcus tried to think up a lie, but Cottia was good at jumping to the right conclusions.
“It was Esca, wasn’t it?”
Marcus shrugged a shoulder before wincing. “Yeah.”
“Oh my god,” she said. “Why did he force you up a tree?”
“He didn’t force me up a tree,” he said, indignant of the idea of a man of Esca’s size pushing him up a tree. Actually, the image was rather amusing and he had to hold back a smile.
“Why did he get you up a tree?”
“Writing research?”
Cottia rolled her eyes dramatically and sat back with a huff. “Isn’t that what the internet is for? If he wanted to see an idiot fall out of a tree, I’m sure there are a bunch of videos on the web.” She paused and seemed to realize what she just said. “No offense,” she added.
“I wasn’t supposed to fall out of it.”
Cottia sighed. “We need a union or something to stop this kind of thing from happening. Do you think Rowling or King is that crazy? Did Rowling make kids on wires fly with brooms? Maybe King really kills people.”
“I hope not,” Marcus said, although honestly, he had never read a Stephen King novel, but he heard enough about them to know he wouldn’t want them to really happen.
“You’re not going to quit, are you?”
Marcus shook his head. He still couldn’t explain it, especially after that last story Esca posted. Marcus was so conflicted. It hadn’t been the rough sex and domination the other ones were. It had been… sweet. Had Esca been fighting back shaking when he cleaned Marcus up? Had he really been terrified when he saw Marcus fall to the ground, covering it up with apathy afterwards?
Cottia seemed to know it was better to change the subject, and she brought Marcus out of his musings when she spoke. “You’re the only guy I know who would ever think of getting a Frappuccino.”
Marcus looked over to the business man who had been in front of them and took a minute to rattle off his complicated order. “How is this worse than asking for three kinds of milk?”
Cottia smiled. “People are so judgmental about what coffee you drink,” she said dismissively, as if she hadn’t just been judging him.
“It’s already been a really hot morning. Why would I want to drink something hot?” he asked, and they thankfully did not talk again about Esca the rest of the day.
It was a month after Marcus fell out of a tree. He was five miles away from Esca’s house when he was nearly sideswiped by another car going double the speed limit in the opposite direction. Marcus swerved over in surprise and slammed on his brakes, stopping just inches from a parked minivan.
He looked in the rear view mirror just in time to catch the back of a little blue sports car before it made a sharp left turn and disappeared behind the trees.
Little blue sports car. Speeding away from the direction of Esca’s house.
Geste’s car.
Marcus cringed. For a long moment he debated turning around and just going home, not wanting to deal with what he was sure to find if he continued to Esca’s. But it couldn’t be that bad, right?
It was so much worse. The entire house was trashed. In the dining room, half of the chairs were broken and the cabinet of china was knocked over; the whole ground was covered in broken glass. In the living room, there were rips in all the furniture, the blade that was probably used to cut it stuck in the back of a sofa (and thankfully not the back of Esca). In the kitchen, the fridge was literally lying on its side, food and silverware scattered on the ground. Even the foyer was somehow trashed with clothing tossed down from the top of the stairs. And that was only what Marcus could see from the front door.
Fear suddenly gripped him. “Esca?” he called out. Was he okay? Was he dying? Was he lying on the floor bleeding to death? Marcus only got to the bottom of the stairs before Esca suddenly appeared at the top thankfully looking untouched. Marcus let out a sigh of relief.
“Marcus,” Esca said, his voice more annoyed than anything else. Only when he started down the stairs did Marcus notice he was carrying a laptop without a screen or half of its keys anymore. Esca held it up, and Marcus stared at it wide-eyed. “Fix it.”
“Where’s the screen?” Marcus asked weakly. Not that he could do anything even if he had the screen.
“The office,” Esca said, waving his hand vaguely behind him.
Marcus had no idea if the wrecked laptop was salvageable. “Please. Please tell me you recently backed up your new manuscript,” he all but begged.
“It doesn’t matter. That hard drive thing was thrown into the pool,” Esca said dismissively, like it didn’t matter.
Like losing months of writing didn’t matter at all.
Marcus didn’t know where it came from; he had always been a fairly passive person. Maybe it was the babysitting of a grown man. Maybe it was the coffee bar. Maybe it was being made to get up at early hours for stupid things. Maybe it was that blog full of stories all about him taking control. Whatever the reason, Marcus snapped.
“God damn it, Esca!” Marcus shouted.
Esca recoiled back, eyes wide with shock.
Marcus snatched the laptop from Esca’s hand. He gripped it hard enough that the edges of the broken plastic were digging into his palm and fingers. He wanted to smash the thing to the ground. He had no idea how he kept from doing it. “You can’t do things like this! What if your latest manuscript is gone?”
Rather than Esca shouting and pushing back like Marcus had seen him do with all of his boyfriends, Esca was almost timid. “I could rewrite it?”
“Rewrite it? You have almost fifty thousand words written! How would you expect to rewrite all of that? It would take you twice as long! What then?”
Esca didn’t seem to have an answer to that.
“I can’t believe you let this latest asshole do this! Did you just stand and watch while he destroyed everything? You didn’t think to call the cops or run for help? What if he turned on you next?”
Esca continued to stare at him, expression still shocked but shifted somehow.
It was pure willpower that kept Marcus from reaching forward and trying to shake some sense into Esca. “I should whip you!”
Esca’s mouth hung open and suddenly Marcus realized it. That was what Esca’s expression was: lust. He was actually turned on by this, by Marcus shouting at him and threatening him with punishment.
Marcus became dominant, and Esca instantly became submissive.
Not about to miss out on this opportunity, Marcus grabbed Esca’s arm and dragged him outside and towards his car, only stopping to lock the front door, why he had no idea.
“Where are we going?” Esca asked, but didn’t show any signs of resistance as Marcus shoved him into the passenger seat of his Jeep and placed the busted computer in his lap.
“We’re going to the police so you can file a report against Geste for trashing your fucking house. Then we’re going to a computer geek place to see if they can salvage any of your hard drive.”
Esca didn’t complain that he could just stay home.
Esca was quiet and passive the entire trip, doing everything Marcus told him to do. It was actually refreshing, to be the one giving the commands. Esca talked to the computer experts who thankfully said the hard drive was undamaged, and he even filed charged on Geste, something he had refused to do against all of his past boyfriends who had done something wrong (and there were more who did than didn’t). Marcus thankfully didn’t need to clean up the whole house either as Esca easily agreed to a cleaning service.
The best part of all was Esca didn’t seem upset with the sudden change in power. In his mind, Marcus had always unconsciously paired submission to being solemn. On the contrary, Esca almost seemed content, even happy to take on this role. Marcus knew he shouldn’t have been surprised, but he was. He knew Esca must have liked the idea at some level or he wouldn’t have placed himself in that role in his stories, but he couldn’t believe Esca actually enjoyed it in real life.
It felt so strange, having the power. Marcus wasn’t sure if he liked it; most of the time he felt more like a bully than a proud Roman soldier. He wondered what Esca saw.
“This office is mess,” Marcus said.
Esca lowered his head, as if he were actually ashamed of it. Marcus couldn’t tell if Esca was just acting or if he really felt that way now.
“It needs to be cleaned,” Marcus decided. “All of this stuff needs to get off the floor or one of us will end up tripping and getting hurt.”
Esca nodded and bent down to begin to pick up the large stacks of papers and started to actually use the filing cabinets he had. Marcus could only stand there for so long watching before he felt bad and started to help.
This was the first time Marcus ever got to actually touch any of these papers, and he had been too curious over the past year to not take the opportunity to see what they were. Most were research, facts and figures about certain areas or jobs, building layouts, pictures and designs of clothing, foreign language grammar and vocabulary. Some seemed to be ideas Esca wrote down for the sake of writing down; many papers only had one line written on them. The rest, Marcus had no idea what they were; they just seemed like pages of gibberish.
Esca, who normally wouldn’t allow him to even glance at the papers, let him help without a bat of his eyelashes. It was all a surprising insight into how Esca’s mind worked while writing a novel.
Marcus had known this side of Esca wouldn’t last very long, but he had hoped for more than just two weeks. He knew it was over when he found Esca in a kitchen eating cereal. He didn’t know how he knew, but there was something about the line in his back and tension around his eyes.
Marcus’ suspicions were confirmed when Esca suddenly put his hand down and knocked the half-full bowl off the island, broken glass, milk and frosted flakes going everywhere.
Marcus gawked at the mess. “Esca!” Marcus grabbed a dish cloth and squatted to start carefully gathering the glass pieces into a pile and sop up most of the milk. Marcus looked up. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
Esca’s face was tightening with a mixture of emotion Marcus couldn’t decipher. Esca took the juice he also had and threw it hard on the ground, right in front of Marcus, splashing him with orange juice and glass.
Marcus yelled and jerked away, falling onto his ass before scrambling up. He felt anger build in him like he’d never felt it before. “What the fuck are you doing?! Why would you do that?!”
Esca stood and walked over to a cabinet before opening it, revealing rows of glasses. Before Marcus could tell him to stop, Esca started grabbing glasses and tossing them over his shoulders.
Marcus started shouting and dodged the glasses being thrown. “Stop it! STOP IT!” he bellowed. When Esca moved to the next cabinet over, Marcus lunged forward and grabbed Esca by his wrists. “Stop it! What the hell has gotten into you?!”
Esca jerked and twisted until his arms were crossed and he faced Marcus with wild eyes, his irises almost completely engulfed with the black of his pupils.
Holy hell, Esca was turned on. Marcus couldn’t help but glance down, seeing a bulge in Esca’s skinny jeans.
Esca struggled again but it was more for show than to get away. “Then maybe you should punish me,” he murmured, leaning forward into Marcus’ space.
That was Esca’s game. He wanted more than shouting. He wanted to be manhandled. He wanted- Marcus leaned forward and captured Esca’s mouth, forcing his lips open with his tongue and tasting him. Esca stopped struggling and yielded with a moan, becoming suddenly pliant under Marcus’ force. It was a hard kiss, full of teeth and biting.
God, did Marcus want to punish Esca for this. He wanted to grab Esca by the hair and push him to the ground. He wanted to shut up that mouth with his cock, and then he would pull him up and slam him against that desk of his. He would bend him over and fuck him until Esca was crying for release. He wouldn’t give it to him, though; he would grip the base of his cock to keep him from coming. He wouldn’t let him come until-
Oh God. Marcus’ eyes widened and he shot backwards until the island counter hit his back, letting go of Esca and leaving him standing there, dazed with reddened lips. Where were these thoughts coming from? When had he started thinking of sex as a punishment and a power play? When had he started wanting a slave instead of a lover? What the hell was happening to him?
Esca. Esca and his stories were poisoning him.
“I’m done,” Marcus said with a croak. His nose itched with the start of tears. “I’m fucking done. I quit.”
“What?” Esca shouted, snapping out of his trance; the seduction and lust in his face disappearing in an instant.
Marcus turned and stumbled out of the kitchen, almost running down the hall to the front door.
“You can’t- you can’t quit!” Esca’s voice followed him. If Marcus didn’t know better, he’d say he sounded almost panicked.
Marcus stopped and turned, almost causing Esca to run right into him. “Yes, I can. I don’t want to do this. I’m tired of it. I can’t stand the manipulation anymore. I don’t want to be like that.”
Esca’s brows drew together. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
“Those stories.”
“What about my books? I thought you liked them.”
“No! Not your books! Your stories. The Centurion’s Hound.”
If Esca looked surprised before, it was nothing compared to the look on his face now. “You…?”
“That’s what you’re trying to do, right? Turning me into your Centurion? To get you off and punish you? Fuck that. I’m not doing it.”
Marcus turned and went out the door. When Esca called to him, he didn’t reply. He just ran out and jumped into his jeep and didn’t look back.
Marcus was glad he forgot his cell at Esca’s. The way his home phone had been going off, he had to disconnect it. After a quick email turning in his resignation to his boss, he disconnected his computer too.
Marcus didn’t even know what to do with himself. He felt so dirty. All of the books he loved to read, the romances, sat on his shelves like scorned religious texts. Marcus felt like he betrayed some part of himself. The ideal of love that he had almost worshiped all his life, he tossed aside for some fetish porn and a crush on an immature jackass.
There were a couple times when there was a knock on the door, but after a little while, they gave up. Marcus had been close to letting Cottia in, but he really didn’t want to explain what happened, and he knew Cottia would be able to get it out of him. It wasn’t until someone started knocking and didn’t stop for almost ten whole minutes that he finally relented. Only one person could be so stubborn, and even though Esca was the last person Marcus wanted to see, the knocking was grating on his nerves. If Marcus’ hair had been long enough, he would have pulled it out.
Marcus unlocked the door and opened it only enough to poke his head through.
Esca stood there looking a strange mixture of nervous and chastised. When Marcus didn’t move, Esca’s expression turned a more familiar annoyed. “Are you going to let me in, or are we going to have this conversation in the hall?”
“Who says we’re going to have a conversation?” Marcus asked.
“You opened the door, and you’re talking to me, right?”
Marcus glanced at the door and had the urge to slam it shut.
Esca must have had the same thought because he stiffened as if readying himself for a door to the face. “I’m going to keep coming back. You might as well get this over with.”
Marcus hung his head and took a deep breath before opening the door wide enough for Esca to come in. Esca slipped in as quick as a shot, as if he thought Marcus was going to close the door if he took too long. Hell, he probably would have.
Usually when someone entered a home they’d never been to before, they’d stand there awkwardly, as if unsure what they would be allowed to do or look at. Esca, of course, wandered around the first floor of the town house like he owned the place. His eyes darted from one thing to another, taking it all in as if he were memorizing it and setting up a scene in his head (hopefully there wouldn’t be a murder today, reenactment or not). They finally lingered on Marcus’ bookshelf. He walked over and looked at the books, obviously reading the titles by the tilt of his head.
“Did you want to say something, or do you want to wander around some more?” Marcus asked, losing patience.
Esca looked over and his mouth quirked into a grin. When Marcus didn’t grin back, his face grew more serious again. “How long have you known about those stories?”
“A while,” Marcus said. “You saved one on the USB with your manuscript of The Purloined Susan.” Now that Marcus thought about it, that had been over six months ago. Had it really been that long?
Esca seemed confused for a long moment before realization seemed to dawn on him. “The face-fuck one I lost, right?”
Marcus cringed at the name, but nodded. “Yeah. I found the other ones on your blog later.”
Esca grinned slyly. “They turned you on, didn’t they?”
“Why would you write those?” Marcus had to know. The question had been gnawing in the back of his mind for months.
Esca shrugged, as if Marcus had asked him why he preferred macaroni instead of penne. “Why else? They were arousing, and I couldn’t exactly put any of those scenes into one of my published books. Too hardcore for most readers.”
“Why me?”
Esca looked him up and down. “You’re hot. I have a thing for big guys and you’re one of the most attractive I’ve met. So I used your body to put my ‘Master’ into.”
Something in Marcus sank. Was that it? He only liked how Marcus looked? It was nothing more?
Esca’s expression became serious. “Come back.”
“No.” He didn’t even need time to think about it.
“Why not?”
“You’re an asshole. I’m tired of being your nanny. I’m a literary agent, not a housekeeper. And I’m tired of all the manipulation.”
“You said that before. What do you mean?”
“I don’t want to be turned into your Master, and I don’t want a slave. I want a normal relationship between two people who care about each other.”
Esca snorted. “You do know how naïve that sounds, right?”
“I don’t care! I like romance novels, and I want a relationship like that. Is it that strange for you to understand?” Marcus was almost pleading for an answer. “You must have some idea; those romances in your books are the most real love I’ve ever read.”
Esca rolled his eyes but didn’t look as sure of himself as he had been before. “My characters are anything but normal. They’re flawed and needy.”
“True,” Marcus conceded. “But that’s what makes them real.”
“There are a lot of terrible things that are real.”
Marcus clenched his hands into fists and herded Esca to the door with his larger body. “You’re right. There are. Like how you treat me. And how you look down on me for wanting an equal I can love instead of some fuck toy.”
Esca scowled. “That isn’t what I meant-“
Marcus slammed the door in his face, and he wished it made him feel more satisfied than it did. When he went back to his living room he saw his cell phone on the table next to the sofa.
Esca seemed to back off for a while, and Marcus decided not to hole himself in his home anymore. He wasn’t going to become a hermit because of some patronizing asshole. Marcus thought he had seen a more personal side to Esca, but he was beginning to think they were just freak anomalies. He had thought -hoped- there had been more to it, but maybe it was just him fooling himself. If Esca just wanted him for some bedroom games, he wasn’t going to get him.
The publisher wouldn’t leave him alone since Marcus had been the longest to last and Esca apparently had become even worse than before it that was possible. They constantly offered him more and more money to sign his soul away to the devil.
Damn he became dramatic when he was depressed.
Marcus ended up figuratively shoving Cottia away when she kept hounding him for answers, wanting to know what Esca had done. He’d shouted at her and refused to answer her calls anymore, though he did accept her apology through text. He had to promise that he would tell her when he could if she stopped pushing it. It wasn’t exactly a lie since he knew he’d want to talk about it eventually.
After quick trip to the store, Marcus didn’t know why he was surprised when he found Esca sitting on his front steps. He was even more surprised when Esca helped him carry his bags in. He let him in, too tired to build his aggression back up to keep him out.
Neither of them spoke for almost fifteen minutes as Marcus put away his groceries and went to the living room. They stood there awkwardly. Marcus wanted to kick Esca out again, but he couldn’t. He had a shifting expression on his face Marcus wasn’t sure he’d seen before: conflict, hesitation and frustration.
“In the beginning, it was just because you were hot,” Esca suddenly said, not looking him in the eye. “You’re my type, and the first time I saw you, I thought you would be this dominating, forceful personality that would put me in line.”
Marcus swallowed. He was used to that. “And afterwards?”
Esca frowned, stopping to think. “After I found out you were as passive as a mouse, I was disgruntled. I thought you were just another one of those brown-nosing agents who wanted the large pay cut my books would make.”
Marcus couldn’t help but continue to hear a ‘but’. “And then?”
Esca made a frustrated noise, as if he was hoping Marcus wouldn’t keep asking for more. He got up and went back to Marcus’ shelf of romances. Marcus was sure he was imagining it when Esca’s shoulders seemed to relax when he saw his own books still there. “And then when you started to back off because of your other authors contracts, I thought it was just because you just wanted more money until I found out they were some nobodies that only pulled in change.”
Marcus felt indignant on their behalf. All of those authors were very good. When Esca didn’t continue, Marcus knew what it felt like to be pulling teeth. “And?”
“And I realized you were just compassionate,” Esca said as if shoving the words out as quickly as possible. “You wanted to give the same service to them as you did to me, and I… I was jealous.”
“Jealous?”
“I wanted you for myself. I wanted to be your only concern.”
Marcus groaned. “That’s why you were such a…. so insistent about that coffee bar?”
Esca seemed amused at Marcus’ self-censorship. “Yes.”
“You really didn’t give a damn about that thing, did you?”
“No, I did. Most of the changes though? No, not really.” Esca suddenly reached up and took one of the books from the shelf, a small paperback that was written as a remix to the classic Cinderella story. “I couldn’t believe you really cared that much about everyone. I wanted that from you, but then… I was envious of your ability to be able to do that.”
“It’s not that hard to care about people.”
“I think it is. So after that first story I wrote, I wanted to try and find some dominant personality that could make me passive, make me care about what they wanted and what they thought.”
Marcus’ heart leapt into his throat. “Is that why you were dating all of those guys? You wanted one of them to… make you care?”
“Yes,” Esca said. “But none of them could do it. They were all just assholes that pissed me off.”
“It’s not fear that creates compassion; it’s respect!”
Esca looked at him confused.
Marcus shook his head. “For a man who can write such emotional stories, you don’t understand them at all.”
Esca was suddenly very close, and Marcus stepped back until he stood between the wall and Esca’s gaze. “You’re right. I don’t.”
Marcus felt very tense. “What do you want from me, Esca? I can’t be your master.”
Esca searched his face for a long moment, as if deciding whether that was true. “No,” he finally said. “I don’t think you can.” Esca still hadn’t moved away. Marcus could swear he was moving closer…
Lips brushed against his own, and Marcus couldn’t help but gasp quietly. It was nothing like the devouring kiss before. It was soft and easy and chaste. It was over far too soon and Marcus made a noise to express that opinion.
Esca pulled back and his eyes began searching Marcus’ face again, as if still trying to solve a complex puzzle.
“What?” Marcus asked breathless.
“Come back,” Esca said quietly. “I… we’ll work it out.”
“Work what out?”
This kiss was even shorter than the last. “This thing between us. I’m too stubborn not to pursue it.”
Marcus frowned. “Am I just a curiosity or…”
This kiss was thankfully longer.
“No, you’re not,” Esca promised.
“I don’t…”
“I really do want to understand, Marcus. The people in my stories are imperfect and weak, but they’re happy.”
“No one is perfect.”
Esca gave a wry smile. “No, they aren’t.”
Marcus studied Esca a long moment. For the first time in a while he thought back to the days when Esca finished a book and was happy, how Marcus even managed somehow to coax some of it out of him, even though it took him falling out of a tree to do it. Those things had kept him going, but would Esca be able to let himself relax enough for it to happen all the time?
Marcus looked away. “I don’t want to give you my time and attention because you demand it of me anymore.”
“Then I’ll just have to earn it,” Esca replied, bending to try and catch Marcus’ eyes.
Marcus met them, and they were filled with tentative hope. “I can’t be your literary agent anymore.”
Esca’s face fell instantly.
“We can… We can try to start over, but just as equals. Not agent and writer. Or master or slave.”
Esca looked confused, as if the thought of Marcus being willing to just spend time with him without extra obligations was foreign to him. Marcus suddenly really wanted to give all of his love and attention to Esca, because no one should think love is conditional.
“Yeah,” Esca finally said, his voice determined, though a little dubious as well. “Alright.”
Marcus let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.
“So, what do we do now?” Esca asked.
“What would we do if we were main characters in one of your books?” Marcus asked, curious to know.
“I’d like to say they’d run off to have lots of sex.” Esca grinned. “But more likely I’d probably say something insulting and you’d slap me.”
Laughter bubbled out of Marcus, and Esca seemed to look thrilled to cause such a reaction. “Maybe we can skip that part.
Esca and Cottia were glaring at each other over the table. Their food sat before them, untouched. Marcus felt a little helpless. He wasn’t sure what to do. He tried to coax them both into talking, but neither seemed to grab the bait. There was only so long that Marcus could essentially talk to himself and he eventually gave up.
Both were too busy sizing each other up.
Marcus knew Cottia was still angry at Esca over Marcus’ ‘breakdown’, as he decided to call it because there was no way he was going to tell people he let slave porn get into his head and it freaked him out. Marcus had managed to hold back the parts about the stories from Cottia, although barely. Cottia still believed that Esca was using and manipulating Marcus and his too-big heart. Marcus didn’t let on, but in the beginning, he was a little worried too.
Esca didn’t know too much about Cottia. They only really started to get to know each other. It was unusual, the friendship coming after the relationship, but when had anything with Esca been normal? All Esca knew was that Cottia was a close friend, and in his eyes, that meant she was a competitor for Marcus’ attentions.
Marcus decided the both of them should meet (granted, this was done under a lot of prodding by Cottia). He set up a lunch date, and so the glaring match started.
Marcus poked at his own food, unsure if he should just eat. He felt weird eating alone, so he mostly just took a bite when the smell was getting too irresistible. One or both of them would break at some point. Marcus just hoped all of the glassware stayed intact.
“So,” Cottia said suddenly, stopping the silence. “From what Marcus tells me, you’re a vindictive jerk.”
Marcus put his hand to his face. This might be ending worse than he expected.
Esca seemed completely unfazed. “Marcus hasn’t told me much about you; so you must not be very important.”
So much worse.
Cottia gave a high-pitched huff. “The Purloined Susan was such a great book. Who wrote it?”
“And who was it you represented again? That man who writes dog porn?”
“Do you get blown over when Marcus sneezes?”
“How many rats have gotten caught and died in your hair?”
They stopped and glared at each other some more.
Marcus raised his hand as their waiter passed them. “Check please. And some to-go boxes?”
“Esca.”
Esca shifted. The furs under him were soft on his skin. The hand that smoothed down his back was warm and pleasant but uncovered his back, exposing it to the cool room air. He made a displeased noise.
“If you sleep in too late, we won’t be able to find anything to hunt.”
Esca blinked his eyes open, the room was a murky blue, meaning the sun had yet to risen, but would do so soon. He rolled over and found Marcus standing over him. His simple tunic was layered over an undershirt, and he wore his thicker braccae.
“Being a freedman does not mean you can be so lazy,” Marcus said.
Esca grinned. “What is the point of being free if I am not free to sleep in?”
“Being free means getting your own food, and unless you want bland oats again for dinner, I suggest we start looking for meat now.”
Esca stretched and rolled from the bed, and out of the warm covers. He quickly dressed to stop the chill from biting into his skin. He grabbed his bow, a simple thing, but strong and accurate.
The land and the hills surrounding their small farm were darkening as summer was drawing to a close.
The air outside was cool crisp. If it was any colder, there would be snow, but it would not come so early in the fall.
Esca hoped Marcus did not want to go back to Rome, where it was crowded and smelled of dung and animals and people who stayed dirty no matter how often they took baths. Out here there was so much space. Esca could run for an hour and never find a single soul. He might be able to run for days.
By the time he found Marcus in the barn saddling their horses, the sun was peeking out from the horizon. Esca pressed against him. The warmth from Marcus, the horse and the sun at his back took away the morning chill that had settled in his bones.
Marcus looked down at him and grinned. “Come, Esca, while the hunting is good.”
Esca returned his grin. “Yes, Marcus.”
Author: kenshincha
Artist: ladytiferet
Fandom: The Eagle
Pairing: Esca/Marcus
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 15k
Warnings: slavery, D/s, bondage, rough sex, foodplay
Summary: Marcus is the literary agent to Esca, an eccentric writer who works him like a slave. That all changes when Marcus finds stories where he isn't the slave anymore. Based on this prompt.
Author's Notes: This is by far the longest story I have ever written. I'm pretty proud that I made it, though! HUGE thanks to my beta marlee813 who listened to me rant about it forever and never told me to shut up. Also a big thanks to Tif for her amazing art!
Art Masterpost
Masterpost | AO3 | Part 1 | Part 2
Three in the afternoon was thankfully a more reasonable time to be called.
"You're not going to push me over a couch again, are you?"
"Just be happy I didn't try to go for complete realism and stick an axe in your sternum."
"What do you want me to do?"
"Come here wearing soft-soled shoes, slacks and a dinner jacket."
"Why? Are we going somewhere?"
"You wouldn't happen to have a top hat would you?"
"What? No."
"A bowler?"
"No! The only hats I own are beanies and baseball caps."
"Figures," Esca muttered. "Fine. But wear the clothing and come over."
"Where are we--" he started but was interrupted by the dial tone.
Having no idea what Esca was planning, he wore some of his better clothing. He knew Esca hated those sort of affairs, one of the only positive things about him in one of these moods; the Eagle's PR would need to employ miracles workers if Esca ever left the house.
Esca was in the kitchen and looking grumpy by the time Marcus got there, a large frown under his large sunglasses. Marcus glanced down to see him wearing a strange bright red sweater, torn skinny jeans and untied boots. Clearly not formal wear.
"What's going on?"
Esca turned and headed towards the backyard. "I want to see if you can climb a tree."
"What?"
Esca lead him over to one side of the house and to a large tree that stood close to it. Marcus didn't know anything about trees so he couldn't name it. All he knew was it was tall with thick lined bark and branches with thin, fat leaves.
They stopped bellow it, looking up into the branches. "I need see if you can climb this tree."
"Why?" Marcus did not whine. "Especially in these clothes."
Esca looked up and down Marcus' body, which stiffened in the scrutiny. "I have a character that's your height and build. I need to know if a guy like you can climb a tree."
"Why couldn't you just get Geste to do this for you? He's my build."
"Does he know how to climb a tree?" he asked expectantly.
"I have no idea." How was Marcus supposed to know?
"Do you know how to climb a tree?"
"No!"
"Well, that's the point." Esca looked away, satisfied to have apparently made a very good argument.
Which was bullshit. "What?"
"Fine! You want your motivation?" Esca moved to Marcus' back to try to push him towards the tree. Unlike the shove over the couch, Marcus was ready for it this time and didn't let himself be budged. Esca slammed his shoulder against Marcus like he was trying to get through a locked door. "You are a respectable Victorian gentleman who has lived in the city your entire life. The one you love broke into a solicitor's office to get evidence." Esca grunted as he leaned against Marcus, panting from his lack of endurance. "You see the solicitors suspicious" - pant - "secretary come into the building. You" - pant - "need to warn her before she gets shot."
Marcus' eyes followed up the trunk of the tree, along branches until he finally looked to the window of Esca's office. He had to admit he could picture it all, and could feel anxiety from the imaginary situation settle in his stomach.
"Can't you just assume he can make it?"
Esca shifted against Marcus' back, confidence returning in knowing that he'd won. "This is the closest I've ever been to a tree. I've never seen a squirrel climb a tree, let alone a man."
Marcus sighed and approached the trunk.
"Well, it wasn't exactly what I had been hoping," Esca remarked later, clearly more put out that his original idea hadn't worked than that Marcus had fallen to the ground just as he was reaching for the sill of the second story window. The only thing that saved him from a broken back was all the branches he hit on the way down. He landed on the ground intact with only scrapes and bruises. His nice clothing wasn't so lucky.
Marcus winced at the sting of the alcohol being dabbed on a long cut on his cheek. Esca's hands were surprisingly gentle as he disinfected Marcus' scratches. At first, Marcus thought Esca just wanted to inflict more pain on him.
But here Marcus sat on a dining room chair with Esca standing between his knees, holding his head up with a hand on his jaw. Marcus' eyes darted around, determined to look anywhere but Esca's face.
"Sorry," Marcus said, unfortunately sounding more apologetic and less sarcastic that he wanted, but what could he do with Esca so close and acting so unusually caring? Marcus wasn't about to break this weird spell Esca had slipped into with a challenging remark. Esca would only get angry, and his fingers were in a good position to scratch Marcus' eyes out.
Esca sighed. "I guess his plummet to earth is loud enough to gain both her and the secretary’s attention and will give her a chance to escape."
Esca tilted Marcus' head up higher so he could look at a deep cut under Marcus' chin. He put down the cotton ball and picked up the damp wash cloth. "This might need stitches."
Marcus remembered his chin slamming onto a hard branch. He was just glad he hadn't bitten his tongue clean off. "I'm not letting you anywhere near me with a needle and thread," Marcus said. It was more of a mumble since he couldn't move his jaw with Esca holding it.
Esca gave an amused smile. "Probably for the better. I'd end up sewing your mouth shut instead."
Marcus felt a tension in his body begin to loosen at the playful banter. He had no idea what had gotten into Esca but he didn't want to stop it.
Unfortunately, someone else decided to with the bang of the front door.
"Esca!" Geste shouted into the house before freezing mid-step, finally noticing Esca and Marcus.
Esca didn't step away from being so close to Marcus.
Geste and Esca seemed to exchange some angry eye conversation. Marcus had no idea what was going on, other than that Geste was pissed at Esca and that was nothing new, although it normally didn't seem to ever happen so quickly.
"I'd better go to the doctor," Marcus said, breaking the silence. Geste glared at Marcus. He stood, mindful of the ache in his back and his thigh, accidentally bumping his body against Esca's. "I'll give you a call tomorrow, then." He limped towards the door, Geste stepping back and circling towards Esca like he was ready for a fight.
"Send me the bill," Esca said in a weird sing-song voice.
Marcus looked back. "For the medical services or for the clothing?"
"Both," Esca said dismissively, grabbing the first aid kit and heading for the kitchen.
Marcus left before Geste decided to go after him. He had enough bruises as it was.
Esca could barely keep his hands from shaking as he gently wiped at the dried blood on his Master’s face. He couldn’t blame it on being cold since the bath water Marcus sat in as Esca knelt next to him was warm and steaming. He brought the reddened cloth down to the water to rinse it before bringing it back up.
Esca does not know what happened, as it was not his place to know. He only knew that his Master came home bruised and cut with a large gash in his thigh. Esca had been terrified to see his Master so hurt, and when he was instructed to hold him down so that his cut could be searched, Esca kept himself sobbing, knowing he needed to be strong for his master.
“You look so sad,” Marcus murmured. “Like I am already dead.”
“No, Master!” he said, more denying that Marcus was dead than that he was upset.
His Master smiled and ruffled Esca’s damp hair affectionately. Esca couldn’t help but lean into the touch. “It will take more than that to kill me.”
More than what? Esca wanted to know, but it was clear Marcus was dismissing the subject with his vagueness. Marcus hummed as Esca carefully tilted his Master’s head back so that he could clean under his chin, rubbing the blood away from the scar he got in his days in the army from the helmets.
They were both quiet for a while as Esca worked. Esca paused when Marcus put his large hands on Esca’s hips. “You are too far away.”
Esca gave a surprised squawk as Marcus pulled him over to straddle his injured thigh. “Master, your wounds!” A normal Master would smack Esca for a scolding tone coming from a slave, but Marcus just grinned tiredly.
“It is fine. You weigh little.”
Esca still frowned, trying to slip away.
Marcus laughed and put a large arm around Esca’s waist, holding him tightly against him. “I will feel better with my pretty little slave on my lap.”
Esca wasn’t convinced. He was not that little and he did not want to harm his Master.
Marcus just smiled and took a hold of Esca’s wrist. He brought the washcloth that was clutched in Esca’s fingers to his face. The other hand that had been resting on his hip moved back and down. Esca whimpered as he felt the pad of a large finger rub against his hole. “The sooner you clean me, the sooner I can make you dirty, little one.”
Esca began to clean his face quickly, probably too rough for his Master’s injuries. Marcus just laughed at his eagerness.
“You look awful!” Cottia said as she sat down across from him. Starbuck’s tables were always so tiny that she had to sit sideways since there was no room under the table for her with his large legs in the way. “What in the world happened?”
Marcus rubbed his hand through his hair. It had been a week ago, but that just gave his bruises time to turn dark, green and sickly. “I fell from a tree.”
“What?!” she squawked, gaining many glances from the people around them. “Why in the world were you in a tree?”
Marcus tried to think up a lie, but Cottia was good at jumping to the right conclusions.
“It was Esca, wasn’t it?”
Marcus shrugged a shoulder before wincing. “Yeah.”
“Oh my god,” she said. “Why did he force you up a tree?”
“He didn’t force me up a tree,” he said, indignant of the idea of a man of Esca’s size pushing him up a tree. Actually, the image was rather amusing and he had to hold back a smile.
“Why did he get you up a tree?”
“Writing research?”
Cottia rolled her eyes dramatically and sat back with a huff. “Isn’t that what the internet is for? If he wanted to see an idiot fall out of a tree, I’m sure there are a bunch of videos on the web.” She paused and seemed to realize what she just said. “No offense,” she added.
“I wasn’t supposed to fall out of it.”
Cottia sighed. “We need a union or something to stop this kind of thing from happening. Do you think Rowling or King is that crazy? Did Rowling make kids on wires fly with brooms? Maybe King really kills people.”
“I hope not,” Marcus said, although honestly, he had never read a Stephen King novel, but he heard enough about them to know he wouldn’t want them to really happen.
“You’re not going to quit, are you?”
Marcus shook his head. He still couldn’t explain it, especially after that last story Esca posted. Marcus was so conflicted. It hadn’t been the rough sex and domination the other ones were. It had been… sweet. Had Esca been fighting back shaking when he cleaned Marcus up? Had he really been terrified when he saw Marcus fall to the ground, covering it up with apathy afterwards?
Cottia seemed to know it was better to change the subject, and she brought Marcus out of his musings when she spoke. “You’re the only guy I know who would ever think of getting a Frappuccino.”
Marcus looked over to the business man who had been in front of them and took a minute to rattle off his complicated order. “How is this worse than asking for three kinds of milk?”
Cottia smiled. “People are so judgmental about what coffee you drink,” she said dismissively, as if she hadn’t just been judging him.
“It’s already been a really hot morning. Why would I want to drink something hot?” he asked, and they thankfully did not talk again about Esca the rest of the day.
It was a month after Marcus fell out of a tree. He was five miles away from Esca’s house when he was nearly sideswiped by another car going double the speed limit in the opposite direction. Marcus swerved over in surprise and slammed on his brakes, stopping just inches from a parked minivan.
He looked in the rear view mirror just in time to catch the back of a little blue sports car before it made a sharp left turn and disappeared behind the trees.
Little blue sports car. Speeding away from the direction of Esca’s house.
Geste’s car.
Marcus cringed. For a long moment he debated turning around and just going home, not wanting to deal with what he was sure to find if he continued to Esca’s. But it couldn’t be that bad, right?
It was so much worse. The entire house was trashed. In the dining room, half of the chairs were broken and the cabinet of china was knocked over; the whole ground was covered in broken glass. In the living room, there were rips in all the furniture, the blade that was probably used to cut it stuck in the back of a sofa (and thankfully not the back of Esca). In the kitchen, the fridge was literally lying on its side, food and silverware scattered on the ground. Even the foyer was somehow trashed with clothing tossed down from the top of the stairs. And that was only what Marcus could see from the front door.
Fear suddenly gripped him. “Esca?” he called out. Was he okay? Was he dying? Was he lying on the floor bleeding to death? Marcus only got to the bottom of the stairs before Esca suddenly appeared at the top thankfully looking untouched. Marcus let out a sigh of relief.
“Marcus,” Esca said, his voice more annoyed than anything else. Only when he started down the stairs did Marcus notice he was carrying a laptop without a screen or half of its keys anymore. Esca held it up, and Marcus stared at it wide-eyed. “Fix it.”
“Where’s the screen?” Marcus asked weakly. Not that he could do anything even if he had the screen.
“The office,” Esca said, waving his hand vaguely behind him.
Marcus had no idea if the wrecked laptop was salvageable. “Please. Please tell me you recently backed up your new manuscript,” he all but begged.
“It doesn’t matter. That hard drive thing was thrown into the pool,” Esca said dismissively, like it didn’t matter.
Like losing months of writing didn’t matter at all.
Marcus didn’t know where it came from; he had always been a fairly passive person. Maybe it was the babysitting of a grown man. Maybe it was the coffee bar. Maybe it was being made to get up at early hours for stupid things. Maybe it was that blog full of stories all about him taking control. Whatever the reason, Marcus snapped.
“God damn it, Esca!” Marcus shouted.
Esca recoiled back, eyes wide with shock.
Marcus snatched the laptop from Esca’s hand. He gripped it hard enough that the edges of the broken plastic were digging into his palm and fingers. He wanted to smash the thing to the ground. He had no idea how he kept from doing it. “You can’t do things like this! What if your latest manuscript is gone?”
Rather than Esca shouting and pushing back like Marcus had seen him do with all of his boyfriends, Esca was almost timid. “I could rewrite it?”
“Rewrite it? You have almost fifty thousand words written! How would you expect to rewrite all of that? It would take you twice as long! What then?”
Esca didn’t seem to have an answer to that.
“I can’t believe you let this latest asshole do this! Did you just stand and watch while he destroyed everything? You didn’t think to call the cops or run for help? What if he turned on you next?”
Esca continued to stare at him, expression still shocked but shifted somehow.
It was pure willpower that kept Marcus from reaching forward and trying to shake some sense into Esca. “I should whip you!”
Esca’s mouth hung open and suddenly Marcus realized it. That was what Esca’s expression was: lust. He was actually turned on by this, by Marcus shouting at him and threatening him with punishment.
Marcus became dominant, and Esca instantly became submissive.
Not about to miss out on this opportunity, Marcus grabbed Esca’s arm and dragged him outside and towards his car, only stopping to lock the front door, why he had no idea.
“Where are we going?” Esca asked, but didn’t show any signs of resistance as Marcus shoved him into the passenger seat of his Jeep and placed the busted computer in his lap.
“We’re going to the police so you can file a report against Geste for trashing your fucking house. Then we’re going to a computer geek place to see if they can salvage any of your hard drive.”
Esca didn’t complain that he could just stay home.
Esca was quiet and passive the entire trip, doing everything Marcus told him to do. It was actually refreshing, to be the one giving the commands. Esca talked to the computer experts who thankfully said the hard drive was undamaged, and he even filed charged on Geste, something he had refused to do against all of his past boyfriends who had done something wrong (and there were more who did than didn’t). Marcus thankfully didn’t need to clean up the whole house either as Esca easily agreed to a cleaning service.
The best part of all was Esca didn’t seem upset with the sudden change in power. In his mind, Marcus had always unconsciously paired submission to being solemn. On the contrary, Esca almost seemed content, even happy to take on this role. Marcus knew he shouldn’t have been surprised, but he was. He knew Esca must have liked the idea at some level or he wouldn’t have placed himself in that role in his stories, but he couldn’t believe Esca actually enjoyed it in real life.
It felt so strange, having the power. Marcus wasn’t sure if he liked it; most of the time he felt more like a bully than a proud Roman soldier. He wondered what Esca saw.
“This office is mess,” Marcus said.
Esca lowered his head, as if he were actually ashamed of it. Marcus couldn’t tell if Esca was just acting or if he really felt that way now.
“It needs to be cleaned,” Marcus decided. “All of this stuff needs to get off the floor or one of us will end up tripping and getting hurt.”
Esca nodded and bent down to begin to pick up the large stacks of papers and started to actually use the filing cabinets he had. Marcus could only stand there for so long watching before he felt bad and started to help.
This was the first time Marcus ever got to actually touch any of these papers, and he had been too curious over the past year to not take the opportunity to see what they were. Most were research, facts and figures about certain areas or jobs, building layouts, pictures and designs of clothing, foreign language grammar and vocabulary. Some seemed to be ideas Esca wrote down for the sake of writing down; many papers only had one line written on them. The rest, Marcus had no idea what they were; they just seemed like pages of gibberish.
Esca, who normally wouldn’t allow him to even glance at the papers, let him help without a bat of his eyelashes. It was all a surprising insight into how Esca’s mind worked while writing a novel.
Marcus had known this side of Esca wouldn’t last very long, but he had hoped for more than just two weeks. He knew it was over when he found Esca in a kitchen eating cereal. He didn’t know how he knew, but there was something about the line in his back and tension around his eyes.
Marcus’ suspicions were confirmed when Esca suddenly put his hand down and knocked the half-full bowl off the island, broken glass, milk and frosted flakes going everywhere.
Marcus gawked at the mess. “Esca!” Marcus grabbed a dish cloth and squatted to start carefully gathering the glass pieces into a pile and sop up most of the milk. Marcus looked up. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
Esca’s face was tightening with a mixture of emotion Marcus couldn’t decipher. Esca took the juice he also had and threw it hard on the ground, right in front of Marcus, splashing him with orange juice and glass.
Marcus yelled and jerked away, falling onto his ass before scrambling up. He felt anger build in him like he’d never felt it before. “What the fuck are you doing?! Why would you do that?!”
Esca stood and walked over to a cabinet before opening it, revealing rows of glasses. Before Marcus could tell him to stop, Esca started grabbing glasses and tossing them over his shoulders.
Marcus started shouting and dodged the glasses being thrown. “Stop it! STOP IT!” he bellowed. When Esca moved to the next cabinet over, Marcus lunged forward and grabbed Esca by his wrists. “Stop it! What the hell has gotten into you?!”
Esca jerked and twisted until his arms were crossed and he faced Marcus with wild eyes, his irises almost completely engulfed with the black of his pupils.
Holy hell, Esca was turned on. Marcus couldn’t help but glance down, seeing a bulge in Esca’s skinny jeans.
Esca struggled again but it was more for show than to get away. “Then maybe you should punish me,” he murmured, leaning forward into Marcus’ space.
That was Esca’s game. He wanted more than shouting. He wanted to be manhandled. He wanted- Marcus leaned forward and captured Esca’s mouth, forcing his lips open with his tongue and tasting him. Esca stopped struggling and yielded with a moan, becoming suddenly pliant under Marcus’ force. It was a hard kiss, full of teeth and biting.
God, did Marcus want to punish Esca for this. He wanted to grab Esca by the hair and push him to the ground. He wanted to shut up that mouth with his cock, and then he would pull him up and slam him against that desk of his. He would bend him over and fuck him until Esca was crying for release. He wouldn’t give it to him, though; he would grip the base of his cock to keep him from coming. He wouldn’t let him come until-
Oh God. Marcus’ eyes widened and he shot backwards until the island counter hit his back, letting go of Esca and leaving him standing there, dazed with reddened lips. Where were these thoughts coming from? When had he started thinking of sex as a punishment and a power play? When had he started wanting a slave instead of a lover? What the hell was happening to him?
Esca. Esca and his stories were poisoning him.
“I’m done,” Marcus said with a croak. His nose itched with the start of tears. “I’m fucking done. I quit.”
“What?” Esca shouted, snapping out of his trance; the seduction and lust in his face disappearing in an instant.
Marcus turned and stumbled out of the kitchen, almost running down the hall to the front door.
“You can’t- you can’t quit!” Esca’s voice followed him. If Marcus didn’t know better, he’d say he sounded almost panicked.
Marcus stopped and turned, almost causing Esca to run right into him. “Yes, I can. I don’t want to do this. I’m tired of it. I can’t stand the manipulation anymore. I don’t want to be like that.”
Esca’s brows drew together. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
“Those stories.”
“What about my books? I thought you liked them.”
“No! Not your books! Your stories. The Centurion’s Hound.”
If Esca looked surprised before, it was nothing compared to the look on his face now. “You…?”
“That’s what you’re trying to do, right? Turning me into your Centurion? To get you off and punish you? Fuck that. I’m not doing it.”
Marcus turned and went out the door. When Esca called to him, he didn’t reply. He just ran out and jumped into his jeep and didn’t look back.
Marcus was glad he forgot his cell at Esca’s. The way his home phone had been going off, he had to disconnect it. After a quick email turning in his resignation to his boss, he disconnected his computer too.
Marcus didn’t even know what to do with himself. He felt so dirty. All of the books he loved to read, the romances, sat on his shelves like scorned religious texts. Marcus felt like he betrayed some part of himself. The ideal of love that he had almost worshiped all his life, he tossed aside for some fetish porn and a crush on an immature jackass.
There were a couple times when there was a knock on the door, but after a little while, they gave up. Marcus had been close to letting Cottia in, but he really didn’t want to explain what happened, and he knew Cottia would be able to get it out of him. It wasn’t until someone started knocking and didn’t stop for almost ten whole minutes that he finally relented. Only one person could be so stubborn, and even though Esca was the last person Marcus wanted to see, the knocking was grating on his nerves. If Marcus’ hair had been long enough, he would have pulled it out.
Marcus unlocked the door and opened it only enough to poke his head through.
Esca stood there looking a strange mixture of nervous and chastised. When Marcus didn’t move, Esca’s expression turned a more familiar annoyed. “Are you going to let me in, or are we going to have this conversation in the hall?”
“Who says we’re going to have a conversation?” Marcus asked.
“You opened the door, and you’re talking to me, right?”
Marcus glanced at the door and had the urge to slam it shut.
Esca must have had the same thought because he stiffened as if readying himself for a door to the face. “I’m going to keep coming back. You might as well get this over with.”
Marcus hung his head and took a deep breath before opening the door wide enough for Esca to come in. Esca slipped in as quick as a shot, as if he thought Marcus was going to close the door if he took too long. Hell, he probably would have.
Usually when someone entered a home they’d never been to before, they’d stand there awkwardly, as if unsure what they would be allowed to do or look at. Esca, of course, wandered around the first floor of the town house like he owned the place. His eyes darted from one thing to another, taking it all in as if he were memorizing it and setting up a scene in his head (hopefully there wouldn’t be a murder today, reenactment or not). They finally lingered on Marcus’ bookshelf. He walked over and looked at the books, obviously reading the titles by the tilt of his head.
“Did you want to say something, or do you want to wander around some more?” Marcus asked, losing patience.
Esca looked over and his mouth quirked into a grin. When Marcus didn’t grin back, his face grew more serious again. “How long have you known about those stories?”
“A while,” Marcus said. “You saved one on the USB with your manuscript of The Purloined Susan.” Now that Marcus thought about it, that had been over six months ago. Had it really been that long?
Esca seemed confused for a long moment before realization seemed to dawn on him. “The face-fuck one I lost, right?”
Marcus cringed at the name, but nodded. “Yeah. I found the other ones on your blog later.”
Esca grinned slyly. “They turned you on, didn’t they?”
“Why would you write those?” Marcus had to know. The question had been gnawing in the back of his mind for months.
Esca shrugged, as if Marcus had asked him why he preferred macaroni instead of penne. “Why else? They were arousing, and I couldn’t exactly put any of those scenes into one of my published books. Too hardcore for most readers.”
“Why me?”
Esca looked him up and down. “You’re hot. I have a thing for big guys and you’re one of the most attractive I’ve met. So I used your body to put my ‘Master’ into.”
Something in Marcus sank. Was that it? He only liked how Marcus looked? It was nothing more?
Esca’s expression became serious. “Come back.”
“No.” He didn’t even need time to think about it.
“Why not?”
“You’re an asshole. I’m tired of being your nanny. I’m a literary agent, not a housekeeper. And I’m tired of all the manipulation.”
“You said that before. What do you mean?”
“I don’t want to be turned into your Master, and I don’t want a slave. I want a normal relationship between two people who care about each other.”
Esca snorted. “You do know how naïve that sounds, right?”
“I don’t care! I like romance novels, and I want a relationship like that. Is it that strange for you to understand?” Marcus was almost pleading for an answer. “You must have some idea; those romances in your books are the most real love I’ve ever read.”
Esca rolled his eyes but didn’t look as sure of himself as he had been before. “My characters are anything but normal. They’re flawed and needy.”
“True,” Marcus conceded. “But that’s what makes them real.”
“There are a lot of terrible things that are real.”
Marcus clenched his hands into fists and herded Esca to the door with his larger body. “You’re right. There are. Like how you treat me. And how you look down on me for wanting an equal I can love instead of some fuck toy.”
Esca scowled. “That isn’t what I meant-“
Marcus slammed the door in his face, and he wished it made him feel more satisfied than it did. When he went back to his living room he saw his cell phone on the table next to the sofa.
Esca seemed to back off for a while, and Marcus decided not to hole himself in his home anymore. He wasn’t going to become a hermit because of some patronizing asshole. Marcus thought he had seen a more personal side to Esca, but he was beginning to think they were just freak anomalies. He had thought -hoped- there had been more to it, but maybe it was just him fooling himself. If Esca just wanted him for some bedroom games, he wasn’t going to get him.
The publisher wouldn’t leave him alone since Marcus had been the longest to last and Esca apparently had become even worse than before it that was possible. They constantly offered him more and more money to sign his soul away to the devil.
Damn he became dramatic when he was depressed.
Marcus ended up figuratively shoving Cottia away when she kept hounding him for answers, wanting to know what Esca had done. He’d shouted at her and refused to answer her calls anymore, though he did accept her apology through text. He had to promise that he would tell her when he could if she stopped pushing it. It wasn’t exactly a lie since he knew he’d want to talk about it eventually.
After quick trip to the store, Marcus didn’t know why he was surprised when he found Esca sitting on his front steps. He was even more surprised when Esca helped him carry his bags in. He let him in, too tired to build his aggression back up to keep him out.
Neither of them spoke for almost fifteen minutes as Marcus put away his groceries and went to the living room. They stood there awkwardly. Marcus wanted to kick Esca out again, but he couldn’t. He had a shifting expression on his face Marcus wasn’t sure he’d seen before: conflict, hesitation and frustration.
“In the beginning, it was just because you were hot,” Esca suddenly said, not looking him in the eye. “You’re my type, and the first time I saw you, I thought you would be this dominating, forceful personality that would put me in line.”
Marcus swallowed. He was used to that. “And afterwards?”
Esca frowned, stopping to think. “After I found out you were as passive as a mouse, I was disgruntled. I thought you were just another one of those brown-nosing agents who wanted the large pay cut my books would make.”
Marcus couldn’t help but continue to hear a ‘but’. “And then?”
Esca made a frustrated noise, as if he was hoping Marcus wouldn’t keep asking for more. He got up and went back to Marcus’ shelf of romances. Marcus was sure he was imagining it when Esca’s shoulders seemed to relax when he saw his own books still there. “And then when you started to back off because of your other authors contracts, I thought it was just because you just wanted more money until I found out they were some nobodies that only pulled in change.”
Marcus felt indignant on their behalf. All of those authors were very good. When Esca didn’t continue, Marcus knew what it felt like to be pulling teeth. “And?”
“And I realized you were just compassionate,” Esca said as if shoving the words out as quickly as possible. “You wanted to give the same service to them as you did to me, and I… I was jealous.”
“Jealous?”
“I wanted you for myself. I wanted to be your only concern.”
Marcus groaned. “That’s why you were such a…. so insistent about that coffee bar?”
Esca seemed amused at Marcus’ self-censorship. “Yes.”
“You really didn’t give a damn about that thing, did you?”
“No, I did. Most of the changes though? No, not really.” Esca suddenly reached up and took one of the books from the shelf, a small paperback that was written as a remix to the classic Cinderella story. “I couldn’t believe you really cared that much about everyone. I wanted that from you, but then… I was envious of your ability to be able to do that.”
“It’s not that hard to care about people.”
“I think it is. So after that first story I wrote, I wanted to try and find some dominant personality that could make me passive, make me care about what they wanted and what they thought.”
Marcus’ heart leapt into his throat. “Is that why you were dating all of those guys? You wanted one of them to… make you care?”
“Yes,” Esca said. “But none of them could do it. They were all just assholes that pissed me off.”
“It’s not fear that creates compassion; it’s respect!”
Esca looked at him confused.
Marcus shook his head. “For a man who can write such emotional stories, you don’t understand them at all.”
Esca was suddenly very close, and Marcus stepped back until he stood between the wall and Esca’s gaze. “You’re right. I don’t.”
Marcus felt very tense. “What do you want from me, Esca? I can’t be your master.”
Esca searched his face for a long moment, as if deciding whether that was true. “No,” he finally said. “I don’t think you can.” Esca still hadn’t moved away. Marcus could swear he was moving closer…
Lips brushed against his own, and Marcus couldn’t help but gasp quietly. It was nothing like the devouring kiss before. It was soft and easy and chaste. It was over far too soon and Marcus made a noise to express that opinion.
Esca pulled back and his eyes began searching Marcus’ face again, as if still trying to solve a complex puzzle.
“What?” Marcus asked breathless.
“Come back,” Esca said quietly. “I… we’ll work it out.”
“Work what out?”
This kiss was even shorter than the last. “This thing between us. I’m too stubborn not to pursue it.”
Marcus frowned. “Am I just a curiosity or…”
This kiss was thankfully longer.
“No, you’re not,” Esca promised.
“I don’t…”
“I really do want to understand, Marcus. The people in my stories are imperfect and weak, but they’re happy.”
“No one is perfect.”
Esca gave a wry smile. “No, they aren’t.”
Marcus studied Esca a long moment. For the first time in a while he thought back to the days when Esca finished a book and was happy, how Marcus even managed somehow to coax some of it out of him, even though it took him falling out of a tree to do it. Those things had kept him going, but would Esca be able to let himself relax enough for it to happen all the time?
Marcus looked away. “I don’t want to give you my time and attention because you demand it of me anymore.”
“Then I’ll just have to earn it,” Esca replied, bending to try and catch Marcus’ eyes.
Marcus met them, and they were filled with tentative hope. “I can’t be your literary agent anymore.”
Esca’s face fell instantly.
“We can… We can try to start over, but just as equals. Not agent and writer. Or master or slave.”
Esca looked confused, as if the thought of Marcus being willing to just spend time with him without extra obligations was foreign to him. Marcus suddenly really wanted to give all of his love and attention to Esca, because no one should think love is conditional.
“Yeah,” Esca finally said, his voice determined, though a little dubious as well. “Alright.”
Marcus let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.
“So, what do we do now?” Esca asked.
“What would we do if we were main characters in one of your books?” Marcus asked, curious to know.
“I’d like to say they’d run off to have lots of sex.” Esca grinned. “But more likely I’d probably say something insulting and you’d slap me.”
Laughter bubbled out of Marcus, and Esca seemed to look thrilled to cause such a reaction. “Maybe we can skip that part.
Esca and Cottia were glaring at each other over the table. Their food sat before them, untouched. Marcus felt a little helpless. He wasn’t sure what to do. He tried to coax them both into talking, but neither seemed to grab the bait. There was only so long that Marcus could essentially talk to himself and he eventually gave up.
Both were too busy sizing each other up.
Marcus knew Cottia was still angry at Esca over Marcus’ ‘breakdown’, as he decided to call it because there was no way he was going to tell people he let slave porn get into his head and it freaked him out. Marcus had managed to hold back the parts about the stories from Cottia, although barely. Cottia still believed that Esca was using and manipulating Marcus and his too-big heart. Marcus didn’t let on, but in the beginning, he was a little worried too.
Esca didn’t know too much about Cottia. They only really started to get to know each other. It was unusual, the friendship coming after the relationship, but when had anything with Esca been normal? All Esca knew was that Cottia was a close friend, and in his eyes, that meant she was a competitor for Marcus’ attentions.
Marcus decided the both of them should meet (granted, this was done under a lot of prodding by Cottia). He set up a lunch date, and so the glaring match started.
Marcus poked at his own food, unsure if he should just eat. He felt weird eating alone, so he mostly just took a bite when the smell was getting too irresistible. One or both of them would break at some point. Marcus just hoped all of the glassware stayed intact.
“So,” Cottia said suddenly, stopping the silence. “From what Marcus tells me, you’re a vindictive jerk.”
Marcus put his hand to his face. This might be ending worse than he expected.
Esca seemed completely unfazed. “Marcus hasn’t told me much about you; so you must not be very important.”
So much worse.
Cottia gave a high-pitched huff. “The Purloined Susan was such a great book. Who wrote it?”
“And who was it you represented again? That man who writes dog porn?”
“Do you get blown over when Marcus sneezes?”
“How many rats have gotten caught and died in your hair?”
They stopped and glared at each other some more.
Marcus raised his hand as their waiter passed them. “Check please. And some to-go boxes?”
“Esca.”
Esca shifted. The furs under him were soft on his skin. The hand that smoothed down his back was warm and pleasant but uncovered his back, exposing it to the cool room air. He made a displeased noise.
“If you sleep in too late, we won’t be able to find anything to hunt.”
Esca blinked his eyes open, the room was a murky blue, meaning the sun had yet to risen, but would do so soon. He rolled over and found Marcus standing over him. His simple tunic was layered over an undershirt, and he wore his thicker braccae.
“Being a freedman does not mean you can be so lazy,” Marcus said.
Esca grinned. “What is the point of being free if I am not free to sleep in?”
“Being free means getting your own food, and unless you want bland oats again for dinner, I suggest we start looking for meat now.”
Esca stretched and rolled from the bed, and out of the warm covers. He quickly dressed to stop the chill from biting into his skin. He grabbed his bow, a simple thing, but strong and accurate.
The land and the hills surrounding their small farm were darkening as summer was drawing to a close.
The air outside was cool crisp. If it was any colder, there would be snow, but it would not come so early in the fall.
Esca hoped Marcus did not want to go back to Rome, where it was crowded and smelled of dung and animals and people who stayed dirty no matter how often they took baths. Out here there was so much space. Esca could run for an hour and never find a single soul. He might be able to run for days.
By the time he found Marcus in the barn saddling their horses, the sun was peeking out from the horizon. Esca pressed against him. The warmth from Marcus, the horse and the sun at his back took away the morning chill that had settled in his bones.
Marcus looked down at him and grinned. “Come, Esca, while the hunting is good.”
Esca returned his grin. “Yes, Marcus.”