DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of the characters from Guardians of the Galaxy, either in its movie or comic incarnation. I own any OC I can invent, though. I am not making a £ out of this. It is just for shits and giggles.

Warnings: some language, mentions of Sane, Safe and Consensual (SSC) BDSM, and, quite obviously, Ronan's confused boner.

Sorry about the delay in posting, I was abroad with little internet access.

Enjoy!

The mercenaries who have tried to capture Star-Lord on Shit Prime attack again, a couple of times in the following months. They think they have a tactical advantage over them thanks to their interference generator. They are wrong.
Rocket has managed to re-tune Star-Lord's implants and shield them. He is no longer in any pain when subjected to the machine, but the mercs don't know it and that affords them the occasion to ambush them and capture a couple of them.
Gamora proves to be the most convincing of the team and, left to her care, the mercenaries reveal the identity of the person who commissioned the hit.
It is a certain K'se We'al, a businessman they say.
Ronan has never heard of him before, but Star-Lord seems to recall the name. A quick comm to Yondu solves the conundrum.

"You are looking for We'al? - the centaurian asks - What has the perplexing bastard gotten himself into, this time?" he asks.
Ronan has the impression that he is saying far less than he knows.
"He paid for a hit on me." Star-Lord reveals, and immediately Yondu's expression darkens.
"What?! Are you sure?! That is not We'al's usual gig, he is a professional thief and fence. He doesn't do hits! And he wouldn't do that, I mean, you're my kid!" he objects. Ronan has the impression that Yondu's relationship with their quarry wasn't a strictly professional one. Star-Lord does not look entirely pleased.

"Well, Da, sorry to break your heart, but he did. The intel is pretty solid. - Star-Lord confirms - So pretty please, we need to know where to find him." he adds with his most endearing expression.
Yondu still hesitates. That We'al must have been a very good lay.

"We're not gonna hurt him, much. - Star-Lord promises, trying to assuage him - He's a middleman, right? We just want to know who is he working for." he adds.
The Ravager Captain sighs and rolls his eyes.
"I don't know where he bunks anymore, these days, but he has opened an artsy club, the Silk Den. It's on K'soth, in the Spartax quadrant." he reveals.
"Ha! Thanks, Da! You are awesome!" Star-Lord exclaims.
Yondu ends up smiling in spite of himself. "Take care, kid. Things might not be as they seem. We'al is... peculiar, but he was never a bad person. It might be a misunderstanding. - he says, but he doesn't sound so convinced anymore - Try to talk to him before your buddies break him. Please. Do it for me." he adds, making almost puppy eyes.
"Is he so important to you?" Star-Lord asks, tilting his head in confusion.
Yondu sighs and rubs his crest implant wearily. "He helped me in a difficult moment. I owe him much." he confesses.
"I can't promise anything, Da. If he comes after me I'll stop him, whatever it takes, but if he doesn't... I'll be cautious." Star-Lord declares.
"Can't ask for more. - Yondu acquiesces - Good hunting, kid." he adds wistfully, switching off the call.
"Thanks, Da..." Star-Lord adds in a whisper. If he had not been so close to almost touch him, Ronan would have missed it.

As soon as the call is closed, they set their course for K'soth, and soon find the place indicated by Yondu. Things start getting complicated, then.
"It's a dungeon." Star-Lord reveals after a round of scouting.
"Meaning?" Drax asks. From the expression on Gamora's face ot doesn't bode well.
"It's a club for practitioners of BDSM." she explains.
"Pama help us!" Ronan thinks. He knows what that means, he has heard about it before in Hala. Back then it was one of those baffling barbarian practices which were frowned upon by everyone, now it is something very real and close.
Rocket groans too. Only Groot seems to be still oblivious. It is better that way, he is still in his early adolescence. That is not something he should know about until he reaches the age of consent, whatever it might be for plant people.

"And we need to infiltrate it, because We'al is the owner of the place." Star-Lord adds.
"I'll go with you." Gamora offers straight away.
"You can't. - Star-Lord replies grimly - It's for gay men only." he reveals.
Rocket erupts into a hysterical giggle, Drax goes deep brown in a second.

"No. Just no. Don't even think about asking me." Rocket declares. His fur is standing on end.
"I wasn't going to. - Star-Lord reassures him - And not even you, Drax. This requires subtlety." he adds. The Destroyer almost deflates in obvious relief.
Ronan feels his heart starting to beat harder and harder with anticipation. Or fear. Or excitement. Hard to tell.

"I am afraid it will have to be you, Ronan." Star-Lord says.
Ronan somehow manages to remain almost impassive.
"Of course. - he says - It is the most logical course of action. I even have the perfect disguise..." he adds, making the ring in his collar tinkle in an attempt to make light of the situation.
"I wouldn't ask this of you in other circumstances..." Star-Lord adds, looking a bit desolate
Ronan smiles at him and pats his shoulder in reassurance.
"I know. - he says - I trust you." he adds and Star-Lord loses a bit of his lost look and smiles. Ronan would do just about anything to make him smile like that.
"Let's get this done, then. - he says - What do we have to do?" he asks.

"Right..." Star Lord exhales nervously. They are hiding behind a street corner across the road from the Silk Den, dressed, or rather undressed, in his case, for their roles.
Ronan is wearing his leather jacket with no shirt of jumper underneath, and, upon Star-Lord's insistence, his Xandarian trousers. A thin chain is attached to his collar. So far he is holding it himself, but soon he will have to give it to the Terran.
Of the whole situation, that is the aspect that worries him the least. No matter how much their relationship might have deepened and evolved since its inception, he is still Star-Lord's haaq and the Terran is still his master. He feels no shame in admitting it.

"So that's the plan. - Star-Lord continues - Step one: we try to blend in and look out for that We'al guy. Step two: we corner him. Step three: we make him tell us who is his boss. Step four: we bash his head in, and, step five, we run for it. Step four is optional." he adds sheepishly.
Ronan nods. "It sounds like a good plan." he declares.

Star-Lord sighs again. Something bothers him.
"Once we get in there you are my slave." he says.
"In case you have forgotten, Star-Lord, I am your slave." Ronan points out, rather piqued.
"You're my retainer. It's different. - Star-Lord objects - What I mean is that they will expect me to... to do things to you..." he tries to explain. Ronan stays silent, waiting for him to continue.
"I'll try to steer us away from... situations, that we have no interest in joining, but..." he hesitates still.
"It might come to the point when I have to do something to you or risk blowing our cover to hell, do you understand?" he finally blurts out, growing bright pink in the face.
"I do. I know it is a possibility, but I trust you. I know you won't cause me undue harm." Ronan replies, feeling his own face heat up at the idea of Star-Lord doing things to him. He nearly wishes that it would be the case.

"Is there anything you would absolutely avoid, if it comes to that?" Star-Lord asks with a sigh. He raises a hand to ruffle his hair and pauses mid-motion. He is impeccably groomed and dressed in his best leathers, all buttoned up with no extra skin on display, as befits a dom.
"Anything you wouldn't be comfortable with?" he adds.
"I'll take off my jacket, but no extra clothes. No nudity." Ronan replies. There is a part of him that wants to be naked in front of Star-Lord, but not even that bit of him wants an audience when it happens.
"Fair enough. - Star-Lord agrees - I'll try to keep the humiliation and the sexual content to the min. That might mean pain, though." he warns.
Ronan tries to stifle a chuckle. "I am no stranger to pain, I think I can handle it." he declares.
Star-Lord huffs and rolls his eyes. "Don't be a hero. You are allowed to bail out in these plays. - he explains - We need to agree on a safe word. When you say it, it's over. That's how it works."
"You've done this before..." Ronan says.
Star-Lord nods. "One of my partners was into it. She taught me the basics. - he narrates - Now for the safe word...?" he prompts.
"Milano." Ronan replies straight away. That ship represents home and safety for him, now.
Star-Lord catches his meaning and smiles softly.
"Let's go then. The sooner we're in, the sooner we can get out." he declares.
Ronan nods and offers the end of the chain to him with a curt bow.
"Of course, my Lord..." he drawls, grinning and winking.
Star-Lord chuckles and grabs the chain, then activates the holomorphic resonator Rocket has added to his implants. His face blurs for a moment, then returns sharp and defined.
Ronan is now looking into the face of a stranger, a dark-haired, pale-skinned, blue-blooded Xandarian, his features fine and aristocratic, his expression schooled into a mask of composure and arrogance.
It would fool any stranger but Ronan sees the smile at the corner of his mouth and the softness in his eyes.
That is still his Star-Lord, he has nothing to fear or worry from him, so when he starts walking to the front door of the club, leading him by the chain, he follows without protest, straight into the enemy's den.

And from next chapter... sexytimes! (took me long enough, didn't it?)