Leo had asked him once where chains go, when they're not called. Elliot hadn't known, and had said as much. Now, even after being a chain, he still has no idea.

He just is, with only the vaguest awareness of the real world, Leo's world, and it's mostly limited to Leo-a whiff of scent occasionally, or the blurry sight of those deep dark eyes, or a flicker of motion. That's fine, really. Time doesn't seem to bother him as it had before, and boredom isn't pressing.

That said, he's beyond relieved when he hears his name, that slightly awkward, "White Knight?" after Leo says his real name, and he draws his sword as he enters the world, just in case.

Then again, it doesn't look like Leo's in danger this time, either. Elliot swallows hard, sheathing his sword in a fluid motion from long years of practice rather than attention, because all his focus is on the man-the vision-splayed out on the bed.

Lace and silk and sturdy boning swath his master's figure, clinging to shapely thighs, cinching the already-slender waist, enough finery to make any lady of the noble houses jealous under her ballgown-and Leo certainly isn't wearing one of those.

For form's sake-and because it feels right-Elliot kneels, bowing his head, looking up again at those mysterious eyes. His throat is dry, the blood pounding in his ear, and his voice rasps and quavers as he asks, "Y-you called?"

It's a good thing indeed that Elliot's tastes haven't changed now that he is a chain.

Leo likes the reaction he gets, the way Elliot's mouth obviously goes dry, the way he can't keep his eyes off of Leo no matter how hard he tries. He has the mind to unfasten the latch of his cloak, heavy red velvet sliding away down his skin and into a puddle on the bed that he arranges himself upon. "It seems," he murmurs, a black-stockinged leg stretching out, off of the bed to gently tap his foot against Elliot's shoulder, "that I can't quite tighten my corset strings by myself."

There's really no need for shame, not when it means enjoying Elliot and the time he now has with him to the fullest.

Leo is cheating.

Elliot has half a mind to tell him that this isn't what chains are for, that he's supposed to be called when Leo needs to be defended, that this is another abuse of power-but after all, it's not like he wants Leo to stop. Instead, he just wraps a reverent hand around one ankle, drawing it up to his mouth to kiss, making his way up that smooth shin, brushing his lips across the soft, sensitive inside of one porcelain thigh. "As my lady commands," he breathes, hoping he'll be able to do as Leo's asking before he comes in his pants like he hasn't done since he was fourteen. "Care to turn over?"

"Not quite yet."

Leo's own breath hitches, a hand slipping down to curl beneath Elliot's chin, coaxing his head up. It's easy, far too easy, to surrender to the touch of the man's lips, ghosting over his flesh and obviously so worshipful, but this isn't the time for it-not yet. "You know, I got you a little something. Wouldn't you like to see what that is before you become otherwise… distracted?"

Elliot swallows hard. Part of him wants to just flip Leo over and shove him into the mattress, thrusting hard inside him until he squeals and pleads, but he masters that urge-barely. He finds himself nodding, leaning into Leo's touch, trying to keep his breath steady. "It's asking a little much of me not to be distracted when you look like this, though."

"Try," Leo coaxes on a purr, his fingers tickling beneath Elliot's chin before drawing back, reaching back into the puddle of his cloak. It's simple thing that he produces-white leather, supple beneath his fingertips, and as he dangles it before Elliot's face, it becomes very clear exactly what it is. "I need you to be quite obedient if you're going to wear this for me, you know."

Initially, Elliot balks.

They're odd words to hear in Leo's unchanged, cheerful little voice, no matter how he modulates it, and the idea is something that his birthright, his pride, denies vehemently. Then again...

Leo is his master, in body and soul, his sole reason for existing. And if there is any sort of chain that would bind him more tightly still, well, then Elliot wants to wear that too, no matter his pride.

His breath is still short when he takes the collar, hesitant as he asks, "Is seeing this on me going to please you half as much as seeing that on you does for me?"

"Yes."

There's no stopping the little shudder in his voice, the way Leo's tongue flicks out to wet his lips as he watches Elliot take the collar from him. "There's a leash, too," he murmurs, leaning back once more to retrieve it. "I want to be able to hold it, to yank on it when you're shoving me down and fucking me into this bed."

Elliot can't stop the flush in his cheeks as he threads the collar underneath his hair, fingers trembling a bit as he fastens it-not too tight, but not too loose either. Somehow it accents the beat of his pulse, making him all the more conscious of how fast his heart is going, embarrassed at how he must look, not to mention at Leo's lewd words. "As if you're going to be able to when I'm taking you that hard," he returns, eyes raking over Leo's recumbent form.

"Try me," Leo breathes, lurching forward to snap the leash in question into place, an experimental tug following. It's light enough only to coax Elliot forward, and Leo leaves the leash loosely wrapped about his wrist as he obligingly shifts to turn, no matter how he wants to keep watching Elliot-the way he blushes, the way his breath quickens. "Aren't you going to see to what I originally asked for now?"

Elliot's chest is tight with anticipation, his eyes alight as he's tugged forward, shucking his trousers before crawling on top of his master. He takes his time running his hands up Leo's thighs, snapping the tops of his stockings before squeezing the supple flesh of his ass. The candlelight glints of something shiny, and Elliot grins. He reaches for the corset strings-already plenty tight, from the little he knows about women's clothing-and hooks a few fingers around the knots, jerking them far tighter as he rests the head of his cock against that slick, prepared little hole. "You got so tight last time I did this," he murmurs, placing a soft kiss between Leo's shoulderblades.

It's already too much.

Leo remembers the first time he found himself coaxed into a corset-embarrassed, anxious, so afraid that he'd be found out and that he wouldn't be convincing enough as a woman. That was in public, though; this is the privacy of a bedroom, where he's instigating this sort of play himself and left gasping sharply for it, the breath squeezed from his lungs as Elliot yanks on his corset strings, constricting even further and leaving him outright dizzy.

"Tried to… make it easier, this time," Leo pants as he sinks down into the bed, pressing his head into his arms as his fingers twitch, grasp nearly white-knuckled about the leash already. He bites his lip, trying not to whimper at even the sensation of Elliot's cock pressing against his hole, but not sliding inside, not yet. Leo knows well how slick he's left his body, how empty he feels without his fingers buried inside of himself, because even that isn't enough when he's thinking of Elliot.

Elliot nods, no matter that Leo can't see him, and runs his hands up the sides of the corset, the shapely figure it creates feeling somehow new despite how well he's explored it many times before. "Nice and ready," he agrees. "It's a shame I missed watching that."

He can imagine it, Leo crouched on all fours, slick oil coating his fingers as he thrusts them in, maybe biting his lip at the stretch of it, and that image alone is enough to make Elliot pant, pressing forward-

Only to not quite make it in, to his chagrin. "Sorry," he mutters, grabbing the strings again for leverage this time. "If you don't relax, I'm going to have to really push. Do you have more oil?"

Leo groans, scrabbling over the bedsheets to fumble beneath a pillow, dragging out the bottle of oil he had been using not to long ago. "Trying," is his whine, nuzzling his cheek down into the bed as his hips rut back no matter how he trembles, his thighs quivering from tension, his back a sharp arc as he pants for a full breath. God, it almost feels good enough like this, with Elliot just rubbing against him, and Leo twists his hips, all to better rub his ass along the hard length of Elliot's cock.

Elliot can't catch his breath, hand sloppy as he slicks it, slicks himself, and with the way Leo's writhing, it almost doesn't matter. He grinds down, sliding his cock along the cleft of Leo's ass, dripping with oil and so hard it aches with every slide, and his hips snap forward, so slick that he rubs up between Leo's thighs instead.

God, that's almost as good, and for a moment Elliot forgets that he's ever intended anything else, rubbing up between Leo's legs, sliding along his cock and balls, feeling just how hard he is. "God," he groans, burying his face in Leo's neck.

The sensation is enough to make him gasp for breath anew, his chest heaving as he shifts, wriggles to close his thighs, to encourage that slick, heated slide as he muffles a groan down into the mattress. Leo's own cock twitches, throbs as Elliot drags against him, and his fingers clench, the yank on Elliot's leash that follows near involuntary because he's so eager. "K-keep… doing that," he manages to pant out, eyes fluttering shut as he rocks back, trying his best to keep his thighs tight, because god, it feels sinfully good to have Elliot's cock sliding between them, hard and thick and pulsing against him.

Elliot hardly needs to be told, not with how good it feels, even-or especially-with the yank at the collar around his neck. He moves his hands down to Leo's thighs, pressing them hard together as he thrusts, every motion bringing him into contact with that sinful soft silk even as he makes it sticky and filthy, rutting between Leo's thighs like an animal.

It somehow feels dirtier like this, so frantic that he'd had no patience for a proper fuck, but Leo doesn't seem to mind with the way he's gasping and wiggling, and Elliot only has ears for those breathy little sounds as he curls one hand around, wrapping it around both their cocks. "God. You fit so perfectly in my hand," he mutters, squeezing, running his thumb over the slick leaking tip of Leo's cock.

Leo mewls, bucking down into Elliot's grasp, rutting his hips down into those perfect, talented fingers just as much as he does the hard, dripping line of Elliot's cock that drags against his own. It's obscenely good, even if he's not being fucked into the bed like he had originally planned-it's just as overstimulating for that matter, enough to leave him shivering, trembling, every muscle a tense thing and every sharp breath he tries to draw in making it that much more difficult to think-

He comes with a sob, surprising even himself with how soon, how hard he spills, dripping over Elliot's hand with desperate, mindless wriggles and bucks of his hips, his eyes rolling into the back of his head as his chest heaves.

Elliot lets out a startled huff, feeling the splatter of hot liquid over his fingers, and he draws back, mouth drier than ever. One hand moves, sticky and insistent, to press at Leo's lips. The other drops to those same strings, as Elliot breathes, "I bet you're nice and relaxed now, hmm?"

That's all the warning he gives before he shoves inside, the thick blunt head popping in after a moment of resistance, and Elliot yanks hard on the strings, dragging Leo back onto his cock with all his strength.

It with a broken sob that Leo's body sags, his knees buckling and hands weakly clawing into the bed as he's helplessly held in place-not just by the hand tangled in his corset strings, but by the big, thick cock shoved deep inside of him. Each breath is a shaky, quick gasp, his lips parting mindlessly to suck at Elliot's fingers, moaning around them as his tongue messily swipes along the length of them, sucking them as eagerly as he would the other man's cock.

God, god it's too much. Everything is too tense, too hot, and Leo's mind blurs, hazy, desperate little squeaks and whimpers tearing from his throat with each shove of Elliot's cock inside of him, filling up until he can't take anymore.

It's simply too much.

Elliot's fingers curl against Leo's tongue, dragging along that sweet wetness as he slides inside, each movement a tense, exquisite thing with how ridiculously tight Leo is like this, shuddering and writhing and breathless like he is. Elliot twists the corset strings around his hand for better leverage, using them as reins as much as a leash, yanking Leo back with every near-brutal thrust inside him.

He looks down, and swears under his breath at the positively obscene sight of Leo's ass, stretched wide around the thickness of his cock, his legs forced wider apart by the girth of it, and Elliot's breath comes in shuddering pants at the sight.

Leo can only twist and squirm, moaning against Elliot's fingers as he's caught between the pull of his hands, the pull of those strings, the way Elliot's cock stuffs him so full, so perfectly, achingly full that even if he didn't have that corset wrenching the breath out of him, he wouldn't be able to breathe. His vision blurs and Leo sobs, trying desperately to wriggle back, to feel even more of Elliot, no matter how he already twitches and spasms around him, muscles drawn so tight that it hurts, no matter how slick and perfect it all is.

"P-please-" His toes curl, and Leo involuntarily arches back when Elliot shoves in deep, leaving Leo to gasp and pant and sloppily drag his lips along Elliot's fingers, tongue flicking out with each ragged breath. "I-" Don't even know what I want, just fuck me, please, please, please-

There's nothing Elliot's ever wanted more than to fill that plea.

The way Leo clenches down on him is maddening, and not without the knife's-edge between pleasure and pain. It's too much, and he doesn't feel like a person able to make decisions any longer, just a base animal of carnal desire and primal urge, mouth fastening over the flutter of Leo's pulse in his neck, careless of whether it'll show a bruise in the morning. His world narrows to the place where they're joined, to every tiny bit of the slick drag and pull of his cock in and out of his master, unable to help himself from getting a bit too rough, pulling too hard, biting too deep when the world explodes behind his eyes, leaving him buried deep inside Leo as he comes with a ragged, desperate noise.

God, his body wants, so badly, to come a second time, to rut down into the bed until he's entirely sated, entirely useless and spent beneath Elliot. Instead, though, Leo can only tremble, focus on breathing, every inch of him sweat-soaked and aching, his face burying its way into the sheets as he groans, a mindless little wriggle of his hips backwards making him bite his lip, reminding him of how deep Elliot still is inside of him, how he's filled with the man's come and will be for hours yet.

His fingers uselessly twitch around the leash still wound up within his hold, and he thinks, belatedly, to ask for one favor. "Loosen it… j-just a bit," Leo rasps out, shifting a little, as much as he can so Elliot will hopefully realize he's talking about that corset, cinched so tightly that Leo knows his ribs will be bruised.

It takes a second for the blood to recede enough from Elliot's head for words to penetrate, and when he moves it's with a core of stiffness, an aching sore thing from the intensity of the orgasm that shuddered its way through his body. He hauls himself up onto his knees, groaning under his breath, enough to tug on the right strings, guiding sturdy thread through the grommets, giving Leo's ribs room to expand again. "Sorry," he mumbles, almost incoherently. "I...sorry, you just looked so-did I hurt you?"

Leo's next breath is deep, gratefully so, even though he makes no attempt to lift his head or to otherwise rise. "No," he lies-not that he cares either way-and twists his head just enough to look over his shoulder. "'m fine. That was…" His skin heats, no matter how he tries to stop it otherwise. "The way you feel when you're just-rubbing against me like that…"

Elliot grins, reaching back to scratch his neck where the hair has stuck to the back with sweat. "I, uh, didn't think you'd like it. You know, it just seems like something that would be good for me, but probably not do too much for you. I guess I know different now, huh?"

That sort of reasoning is really sort of cute. "… By that logic… do you have any idea how much I like it when you're in my mouth?"

That question, out of the blue, is enough to startle Elliot, enough to make him pull back, disentangling them as his face burns bright red. "I-well, yeah, but-oh." He clears his throat, wondering why anything Leo says surprises him anymore. If he can summon Elliot wearing a getup like this, he can certainly say such lewd things with a straight face, after all. "I...I always thought you just liked...you know, making me happy."

"Well," Leo breathes, hissing as he stretches out, limbs still periodically trembling from residual stimulation, "yes. But I also like it. Otherwise, I wouldn't do it." He flops facedown onto the bed with a little shudder. "I'm not getting up…"

Elliot laughs, a bit startled at how cute Leo is all of a sudden. As much as he loves the way Leo seems confident, powerful, and of course is a couple years older-this, this floppy ball of contented, wriggling Leo is what he's missed. He lies down next to the other man, draping a strong arm over his back, playing with his hair. "I missed your bright smile."

"Sappy and romantic while I'm drenched in sweat and still in women's clothing," Leo mildly retorts, even as he sighs and settles down comfortably, eyes lidding in pleasure at that soft, subtle touch to his hair. Only Elliot-just Elliot can manage that and make him content and not annoyed. "I just missed you."

"The clothes were your idea," Elliot points out, burrowing that much closer, brushing a kiss across one bare shoulder. "I hope you didn't miss me too much. You know...before I died...I mean, I would have wanted you to be happy. I still do."

Leo decides not to mention exactly how much he did miss Elliot, how many times he had broken down and asked Vincent to kill him, how many times he had simply curled up in bed at night, unable to start crying and unable to sleep all the same.

"… There's no one that could ever replace you, you know," he settles for instead, resting his head atop his arms, letting his eyes slide shut entirely.

"Well, I never said that," Elliot mutters, then hooks a finger in the corset strings, tugging gently. As cute as Leo is like this, as much as Elliot wants nothing more than to watch him relax into sleep, he can't, not quite. "You can't fall asleep in that. It'll crush your liver. Vanessa told me."

"What?" Leo's eyes crack open again at that, unable to stop a short laugh. "What does my liver have to do with this? You just want to see me naked."

"You have to get a sleeping corset," Elliot insists, using fingernails and teeth as he goes to work on the tightly-knotted strings. "This kind has stiffer boning, and the...the liver things won't get to your liver properly and you'll hurt yourself. It...something like that." He can't quite repress a grin. "If you don't want to be naked, you can always leave the stockings on. I'm sure your liver won't mind that."

"Pervert," Leo blithely accuses, settling back down for the moment to allow Elliot to work. If he wants the corset off, he wants it off; there's no denying it would be much more comfortable without it, anyway. "And you used to say I was bad. If I leave them on, I bet I'll wake up to you being rather inappropriate."

"You are bad," Elliot points out, deftly unlacing the strings. It's the sort of thing one learns growing up in a noble house, especially with an elder sister who hadn't trusted her other brothers to help her out of the things. "You're the one who put this stuff on before summoning me. And you used to read me those stories, too!"

A thought strikes him, and he eyeballs the bookshelves. "It makes me wonder if you've been reading them to keep you company while I was dead."

Leo's mouth twists at that, and he squirms to push himself up right, heaving out a short breath as he feels the corset fully loosen from his body. His ribs do hurt-he can only imagine how it would have felt to actually sleep in the thing. Not comfortable. "I haven't exactly had time to read lately."

"Right, right," Elliot says vaguely, folding the corset lengthwise and setting it away on the bed. "Busy being a Baskerville, of all things. Please tell me you at least spent some time working on your aim with a gun. I hate to think about you going into danger with only the skills you used to have." His mouth twists sourly. "I'm sure Vincent could give you lots of lessons."

"… It isn't exactly necessary, all things considered," Leo drawls, all sorts of amused that Elliot worries about his aim when he has already done a dozen things that Elliot probably thinks him entirely incapable of. Slowly, he rolls onto his side, staring up at Elliot with a slow, sleepy blink. "You're not the only chain I have, you know."

Elliot flinches at that, flopping down onto his back on the bed, letting out a little huff. "Don't remind me. Whatever that thing is? With the eyes? And the wings?" He shakes his head slowly, a frown creasing his brow at how much fun it is to be "the new guy." "I just can't see someone like you having a chain like that."

"It isn't just mine, it's Glen's," he points out on a murmur, stretching with an easy sigh. God, he hurts, but pleasantly so-down to his bones and all through his muscles. With a wriggle, Leo sinks himself deeper into the bed, peering up at Elliot. "His name is Jabberwock, by the way. Make sure you play nice."

"I thought you were-oh, never mind," Elliot grumbles, raking a hand back through his hair. He softens at the look in those sleepy, swirling eyes, and instead of demanding explanations, asks, "Is Holy Knight finished yet? I meant to ask last time but...well, you're distracting."

"Dunno." Leo stretches out a leg, absently flexing his toes before gently poking at Elliot's ankle. "I didn't want to read it, once you were gone."

Elliot reaches out and flicks Leo in the arm, somewhere on the verge of playful and annoyed. "You're an idiot. Now how am I supposed to know what's happened? You...you weren't supposed to just stop living." The weight of guilt settles over him, heavy across his shoulders. Even with everything he'd done, tried to do, he'd still let that damned Humpty Dumpty ruin everything. Not just his family, but Leo, too. "I...I'm sorry."

A sort of vague, weary irritation flickers over Leo's face. "Don't apologize. You didn't do anything wrong. I… was the one that did everything, after all. It was my fault you were caught up in any of this in the first place-" His lips twist into a sardonic smile. "And now I've dragged you back into it. Sorry in advance, but everything's awful here."

Elliot shrugs. "Better here and able to do something than back in the Abyss. You know I hate being useless."

Even if that's what he's been. Even if there hasn't been a single person he could save, even by giving his life. The silence of Nightray Manor is oppressive, taunting him with its emptiness. "I don't know how you can stand to stay here," he says quietly. "All I can think about is how they're all dead."

"The only person I cared about was dead for two years," Leo dully reminds him. "Everything else is sort of…"

Less than, not even close to being important-

Leo sighs a bit, shaking off the urge to depress himself just thinking about it all. "This place is better than most, but if you really want me to leave, we could go to Pandora."

"I..." Elliot buries his head in Leo's shoulder, nuzzling to make up for the fact that he really, honestly doesn't know what to say. "I want to be wherever I can protect you. And at least here there's only Vincent to worry about instead of..."

He trails off, caught in that old web of wanting to know who's left, being terrified to know who's gone.

A wry smile tugs at Leo's lips, and he lifts a hand, absently dragging his fingers through Elliot's hair. "Truth be told, there's not much left to protect me from-not when the main problem is sitting in a dungeon in Pandora. This place, at least, is quiet and easier to deal with than most, so…"

It feels good to be petted, and Elliot closes his eyes, relaxing into the touch. "I never thought you'd let me touch you."

The words come to his lips seemingly of their own volition, maybe because there's nothing to be afraid of any longer, nothing to be ashamed of. "When I met you. You were so...prickly. And I don't just mean your hair." Nightray Manor feels a bit like the House of Fianna now, empty except for those who might as well be ghosts.

"… You were an obnoxious, bratty noble kid," Leo dryly points out, his fingers slowly slipping down to thumb the collar still wrapped about Elliot's neck. "Still kind of are; I've just learned to find it cute in some ways."

"I'm not a child anymore." He hadn't thought he was a child then, but time has showed him just how wrong he was. "And you'd better like it," he mutters, letting his head fall back, exposing his throat. "I don't think I'm ever going to change, even if you want me to."

Not like you changed.

"Good. Don't." If nothing else, Elliot is the one thing that is static, even after these two years, even after being without him for all that time. Leo swallows, throat suddenly tight, and he drags his fingers away, hand slipping further down to rest against Elliot's chest. It's more distressing than it should be that he had-apparently-thought to have this chain mimic a heartbeat, no matter how Leo knows it's not real, and that Elliot still is quite dead, no matter his form. "I won't let anyone hurt you again, Elliot."

"You never did."

Elliot closes his eyes, leaning forward to rest his forehead against Leo's, one hand coming to rest on his chest as well, feeling that steady thump that lets him know that at least one of them is really, truly alive. "I never said it because I didn't think it needed saying, but...I never blamed you. For Humpty Dumpty."

Even the name is enough to make Leo tense and flinch, no matter how time has passed. "You should," he mumbles. "You should, because if you hadn't been there-protecting me, and trying to help those other kids-"

"What, you think it would have been better if I left those kids to die?" Elliot's hand presses harder against Leo's chest, as if he could hold him there, just like this. "I...I couldn't. I know-I know they died anyway, and I know how it turned out, but..." It's hard to say, but it needs to be done. "Look, I'm just not that kind of person. Even knowing how it went, I'd probably do the same thing all over again."

"… You're an idiot," Leo rather helplessly settles upon, shaking his head as he scoots that much closer to Elliot, wrapping his fingers about Elliot's hand to keep it close. "A really big one. You're not allowed to disappear again, all right?"

"All right," Elliot agrees easily, but he doesn't put much conviction behind it. What's happened once can happen again, after all. And Leo's always been able to tell when he's lying.