Anything But Love - Chapter Ten

Phoenix stirred his spoon around in what was left of his soup, watching the remaining vegetables and pieces of chicken swirl as if caught in a whirlpool. The television was on and tuned into the local news, but he was no better informed than he'd been upon flipping to that channel. His mind was elsewhere, in a different time and place.

More specifically, the next room over, three hours ago.

Somehow, the memory was both too good to be true and too real to deny. Had he really just gone through with that? Would it happen again? God, he hoped it would, but felt awful for it. Yet, he still wasn't sure if he should feel guilty. The whole situation was gray and confusing and so complicated that it was twisting and tangling his emotions like a kitten with a ball of yarn.

Miles had enjoyed it. He had said so himself, even though his reaction afterward had been a bit... off. Nevertheless, he'd been relaxed and had fallen asleep rather quickly. He was still sleeping, resting contently in Phoenix's bed, satisfied and secure.

So... should he not feel as though he'd done the right thing? Somehow, that just seemed like a 'the end justifies the means' type argument, but again he was left to wonder what other options he'd had. The return of all these doubts was frustrating, as he'd felt so free when they had abandoned him during his time in bed with that beautiful man who had complied with his every whim, molded to his touch, left him wondering how he could have ever thought he might not enjoy taking on such a role.

Perhaps that was why he felt so guilty: he'd gone through with all of this to save Miles, but he himself had gotten so much personal enjoyment out of it.

With a heavy sigh, Phoenix leaned forward and set his bowl down on the coffee table; he didn't really feel like eating anything more. He needed moral guidance, because his own thoughts were getting him nowhere, going in circles and stressing him out. He wondered if he could talk to Mia about this... She had always seemed like such an intelligent and wise woman to him, despite being only a few years older than himself. He had never discussed something so personal with her before, and he didn't even know if she'd want to learn such things about him, much less try to give him advice. What if telling her about what he'd done made her think less of him, made her question whether or not she wanted him representing her law firm while being such a depraved man?

"...Sir?"

Phoenix nearly jumped out of his skin at the sound of the tiny, meek voice off to his right, and he whipped his head around to see Miles standing just outside the hallway, having dressed and apparently finger-combed his hair. Phoenix saw him in time to watch a startled look come over his face as well and he retreated a step, bowing his head. "I-I'm sorry, Sir! I d-didn't mean to-"

"No, no, it's okay!" Phoenix interjected quickly, his heart breaking all over again at the sight of Miles cowering and apologizing for something like this. "It's not your fault. I just zoned out is all. Is everything okay?" Phoenix leaned toward him a little, laying his palm open in a vague gesture of beckoning, an invitation more than an order. He didn't want Miles to fear and recoil from him! He had to separate himself from that monster Von Karma, even while giving Miles the controlling hand he needed.

Miles had partially covered his face - whether in shame, fear of being stricken, or both, Phoenix wasn't sure - but he slowly drew his hand away and lifted his chin a bit. Phoenix saw his lower lip tremble and was terrified the poor man was about to start crying, but instead Miles stepped forward, coming slowly toward him. Phoenix expected him to sit on the couch, but Miles came to stand right in front of him and then descended to his knees.

Pity and arousal weren't usually things Phoenix felt simultaneously.

Miles bowed his head. "...You looked upset, Sir. I only wished to know if it was... my fault... Did I displease you?"

Now Phoenix was afraid he was going to start crying! "Oh, Miles..." He reaching out with both hands to cup the other man's face, bringing it up so that he could gaze into those worried gray eyes. "I just have a lot on my mind right now. You don't have anything to apologize for, believe me."

Miles closed his eyes. "...Thank you, Sir."

Phoenix swallowed the lump in his throat. "Miles, come up here." Gently, he guided the other man up from the floor and onto his lap. He had Miles sit sideways with his back to the armrest, one arm encircling his waist. He then guided Miles' right arm over his own shoulders and clasped his other hand. It was the same position they had been in that first day in the empty classroom, and Phoenix hoped Miles would remember, make some sort of connection.

Phoenix looked up at the man in his lap, keeping eye-contact while he spoke. "I want to tell you what things will be like if you stay here with me." His heart was picking up speed; everything hinged on what Miles thought about the offer he was making. "I understand that you want - need someone to be dominant, to exert control over you and guide you, make you feel secure and stable. I'm willing to be that for you, and I hope I've proven that. However..." He trailed off momentarily, watching Miles' expression; he saw quite a bit of apprehension in this moment.

"I will not be cruel to you. You won't be denied meals or things to drink or sleep or... anything else you need or that would make you comfortable. I'm fresh out of law school and pretty broke, but I make do and I've never gone hungry. You won't either, even if the choices aren't as... varied as you're used to. Also, I will never - under any circumstances - hurt you out of anger. You... told me you want pain, and I know it can be used to enhance please. That's the only context in which I'll ever hurt you, and it will only ever be with your consent and never more than you can handle. I'll always make sure you have a way to tell me if it's too much and you want it to stop. I care about you, Miles; I'm never going to enjoy seeing you truly suffering and miserable. I don't just want to satisfy you: I want to make you happy."

Miles gazed at him for a long time, and Phoenix could see that he was trying to process all of this. Miles had always been so intelligent, but the only relationship this man had ever really known had been nothing but poison that had left his mind warped and broken in so many ways. "I-is there... a-anything else... Sir...?" he asked, stumbling over his words as if he still hadn't fully committed to asking the question even as it left his lips.

"Yes," Phoenix answered. He unlaced his fingers from Miles' and instead gently caressed his face. "If you stay here with me, I don't want you to just be my sub: I want you to be my friend. When we're just... hanging out in the living room or having a casual meal or... going out somewhere, I want you to get to a point where you can drop all that 'Sir' stuff and just treat me like a peer, an equal, like couples are supposed to be. I want you to call me Phoenix and make those little sarcastic, snarky quips you used to, even if they're at my expense. I want you to get back to being yourself again, not just all meek and submissive and thinking you're only good for sex. I know it'll take some time, but that's my goal for you. I'm not going to treat you like a possession, because you're a person - a human being."

It was at this point that Miles broke eye-contact and dropped his head, turning his face away as his body shook. Phoenix knew the tears were coming now, shed out of fear and frustration. "Th-that doesn't make any sense..." Miles whispered, voice quivering. "I don't understand, Sir. Y-you... contradict yourself... You say you will give me what I need... a-and then denounce each individual aspect of... wh-what that entails..."

"No, it's not a contradiction," Phoenix insisted, though he kept his voice calm and soft, wanting to sound firm but not forceful. "Look, I know you don't understand right now. Von Karma has done awful things to you and made you believe that being treated like dirt is what you need. Miles, can you... tell me how you felt after what we did earlier today?"

Miles' head came up with a look of surprise, clearly not having expected such a question. "I-I..." He dropped his chin to his chest, trying to sort out the best way to answer the question. Phoenix waited patiently, certain that what he'd done earlier was like nothing his old friend had ever experienced. "...I-I don't know..." he finally stammered out, still sounding a bit choked with his struggle against the tears. "...I-I don't understand... what you were doing... H-how... could you have enjoyed that if... if you were focusing on... my pleasure nearly the entire time?"

Phoenix slowly began to comb his fingers through disheveled silver locks, hoping to sooth the distraught man so that he might be more susceptible to reason. "Miles, you have no idea how gorgeous you are, do you? Seeing you like that... just so... enraptured... It's amazing! Call me sentimental if you want, but the idea of just... using your body to satisfy myself sounds so pointless and empty. I don't wanna' be with someone who isn't enjoying themselves, too. That'd just make me feel like an awful person, especially if it's someone I really care about, like you."

Miles continued to stare at his own lap where his hand lay idly. He was apparently still having trouble coming to terms with the fact that he had enjoyed what had happened earlier, despite the lack of brutality that had defined the last... how many years of his life?

"I know it's hard to see how I could be both your Dom and your partner right now, but I know you'll get more comfortable with the idea over time," Phoenix assured him. "You just have to give me a chance to teach you, to show you what a real relationship is supposed to be like. All you have to do is agree to let me, because if I try to force you into this, I'm no better than him."

Miles said nothing, nor did he look up. How many times had this man left Phoenix waiting on pins and needles for an answer or even just a reaction? It was admirable for someone to consider their decisions carefully, not to act rashly on raw emotion, but he knew there was more to this - there had always been more to this. Miles had much more to consider than just a possible change of heart when the heat of the moment passed. Phoenix could tell he was not just uncertain - he was terrified. Von Karma was a frightening man to any normal person, but after what he'd been doing to Miles for so many years, the young attorney could not even imagine the unbridled dread the thought of betraying him must be causing Miles.

"I... I-I..." With Miles sitting in his lap, there was no way Phoenix could miss the trembling. He only wished he knew a way to make this easier, but that simply was not possible. Nothing about this situation was going to be easy or simple, even though the choice to run away from an abuser should have been obvious. Things just weren't going to work that way this time. "I... w-want... I w-want to... b-but... I..." Miles swallowed thickly, and Phoenix knew that he was still holding back tears. "I-I'm... I'm scared..."

"I know." Gently, Phoenix guided Miles' head onto his shoulder, holding him just a little tighter. "I'll be honest with you: I'm scared, too, but I'm a hell of a lot more determined to get you away from him. I've got friends that will help us. None of them are really as influential as he is, but there's safety in numbers, as they say."

Miles took in a shaky breath that sounded suspiciously like a sob. "...I-I've already betrayed Master... I-if I go back... h-he'll know. H-he'll m-make me tell him, and then... O-oh god..." His body shuddered violently and the sob that escaped him was unmistakable this time. "A-and you... Y-you'll be..."

"Shh..." Phoenix hushed him, squeezing even tighter and rubbing Miles' shoulder in an attempt to sooth him. "You don't have to go back, Miles. I would be so happy if you decided to stay, and I would make sure you'd be happy, too. All you have to do is say the word and this will be your new home. You'll never have to go back to him and endure another second of his sadistic cruelty."

It was a long time before he received an answer, an amount of time he made no attempt to measure. During that span, Miles wept on his shoulder, that facade of ice and concrete nowhere in sight. Phoenix wasn't even being stern with him any longer, yet the barriers had stayed down, broken and useless in the wake of what had seemed a flimsy battering ram at the time. Now, Phoenix could only wait, could only provide comfort and security in hopes that it would benefit his case. He would be patient while Miles collected himself, not caring in the slightest that his dress shirt was getting thoroughly soaked in tears.

At some point, Miles' sobbing died away and he became silent save for an occasional hitch of breath, leaving Phoenix to half-listen to the chatter from the television. He had his chin resting on the top of Miles' head, keeping as many points of contact between them as possible. It was in the middle of some commercial about fancy haircare products that he heard a tiny voice from just below him.

"...I-I will... have to go back and retrieve my belongings..."

Phoenix felt his heart skip a beat and he leaned back a little to look down at Miles. "So... You're saying you want to stay?"

The man in his arms shivered and swallowed hard before working up the nerve to give a more direct answer. "...Yes, Sir..."

At such confirmation, Phoenix's face lit up with a soft smile and he put a finger under Miles' chin to coax his head up, at which point he placed a kiss on his forehead. "Thank you, Miles. I've been waiting four long years for you to make that decision. You won't regret this, I promise." He began to help Miles sit up straighter and then shifted a little as if preparing to stand up. This prompted Miles to get up in order to allow it. "Now, let's get this done quick before he gets home and notices you're gone."

Miles only nodded, looking absolutely drained and still so meek and frightened. Phoenix went into the bedroom to retrieve his tie and then came back to put on his suit jacket and shoes. Then, he opened the tiny closet near the front door and pulled out an old dark blue vinyl jacket he hadn't worn since high school. It was a bit too snug on him now, but it would fit Miles just fine. "Here. It's old, but it's still got warm lining inside. Should be comfortable," he explained as he handed it over. Miles hesitantly took the coat, looked at it a moment, and then silently donned it. It most certainly was not his style, but Miles offered no complaint and Phoenix didn't want him out in the cold without a coat again.

Seeing how apprehensive Miles became as soon as they stepped over the threshold to head outside, Phoenix reached back and took his hand as he had earlier that day. This time around, Miles clutched the offered hand instead of merely allowing himself to be led. Phoenix chose to take that as a positive sign, perhaps signifying trust - that Miles was actively seeking him for security. Not once during their journey did Phoenix allow that contact to be broken.

He leaned against the door frame, watching Miles move about his tiny room/cell. He was taking the few outfits he had from the chest of drawers and packing them into a small suitcase he'd had underneath his bed. He was moving quickly, but he was also ensuring that the clothing was still neatly folded by the time it lay in its new place. Everything Miles owned was formal-looking but plain, all solid colors with nothing excess beyond collars, buttons, and sleeve cuffs. It was also all long-sleeved: Phoenix didn't see a single t-shirt or pair of shorts among his wardrobe.

Once all of his clothes were packed, Miles retrieved what appeared to be a small jewelry case that had been snugly tucked under the upper-back corner of his mattress. Phoenix raised an eyebrow, not even having suspected that something might have been there. "What's that?" he asked, eying the worn red velvet that covered the box.

Miles faced him but his head was down and turned to the side as he clutched the box to his chest. "It... it contains sentimental possessions, Sir. I... I have had to hide it from Master, or he would have taken it from me... b-because they are foolish things that have n-no real value..." He watched Miles slowly raise his head, and the expression of worry and pleading in his eyes as he clutched the box made Phoenix want to burst into tears.

"Oh, Miles, you don't even have to ask!" he exclaimed, knowing exactly what his old friend feared. "Of course you can keep it! I'm not going to take stuff away from you, especially if it's important to you."

Miles dropped his chin again, sagging with relief. "Th-Thank you, Sir..." With that, he turned to nestle the box in amongst his clothing and the small toiletry bag from the nearby bathroom, then flipped the suitcase closed and guided the zipper around to seal it.

"That's everything you own?" Phoenix asked, a little surprised even though he realized he probably should not have been.

"Yes, Sir," Miles answered as he picked up the suitcase. "I had no need for anything else... since my life was to be spent down here where Master could always find me..."

"Miles."

"Y-yes, Sir?" The silver-haired man looked up timidly at the stern tone of Phoenix's voice.

"I would like you to stop calling him 'Master.' You're not his anymore." Realistically, Phoenix knew that the habit would be difficult to break, but hearing that form of address bothered him on a deep level. Getting Miles to stop using it would be another crucial part of breaking that demon's hold over his mind.

Miles bowed his head, beginning to tremble once more with a white-knuckled grip on the handle of his luggage. "I-I'm sorry, Sir," he whispered, and Phoenix could see just how tense he was becoming.

"If that's everything, we need to go," the young attorney stated, coming forward to take Miles' free hand. "I'd rather not get caught down here." He started moving back toward the door, but it was then that he felt resistance. He looked back to see that Miles wasn't moving, rooted and rigid as an oak. "Miles?"

A little sound like a whimper came from Miles' throat, his eyes darting back to his bed, then out the doorway where he likely had a clear view of the shackles and perhaps part of the weapons display. The abject terror Phoenix could now see in his eyes spoke volumes about just how awfully he had been treated in this place - physically, mentally, and emotionally raped for years while allowed no contact with the outside world. Miles' urge to leave it was obvious, but the chains that bound him here - while figurative - were strong; Phoenix just had to hope the former was stronger.

"...P-please... Sir, please... t-take me... from this place... I-I can't..."

Phoenix understood, and with a sense of purpose and determination, he stepped closer to Miles and wrapped an arm around his waist. With that hold firmly in place, he kept his grip on Miles' free hand and started walking. He felt the resistance, but this time he just kept moving. Miles stumbled, but held Phoenix's hand in a death grip. A few steps and Miles was finally moving with him, which was a relief as they were approaching the stairs. Every so often as they made their way out, Miles would falter as if being pulled back by some invisible force, but as he'd requested, Phoenix took him onward, right out the front door.

As soon as they stood outside, Miles took in a deep breath of the frigid air and Phoenix felt him relax as he let it go. They stopped for only a few seconds on the porch before descending the steps, and this time, Miles didn't once look back.