Gus' feet ached almost as much as his head when they finally returned to the dorm. Between classes and letting Shawn burn off his energy, he'd walked more today than in the last two weeks combined. And he had no idea if Shawn needed to walk further, because other than saying thank you for the food, he'd barely said a word since their talk.

Since their fight.

At least Shawn had stayed next to Gus for the whole walk, even while staying quiet. The optimistic part of Gus' mind hoped it was a silent confirmation that they were still friends. The less optimistic part wondered if it was just Shawn doing what his master wanted after Gus had essentially pulled rank on him.

His leg muscles complained as he circumvented the elevators and climbed the stairs. He'd had to tell Shawn no, the janitorial program had trouble written all over it. The whole point of getting out of their house was to get away from Shawn having to be in slave-mode constantly. And for Gus to get a college degree, but he wasn't worried about that right now. He had bigger things to figure out.

Mainly how he could make it up to Shawn while also convincing him that there were better options. Finding those options was an important step too.

The ache behind his temples pulsed in time with his heartbeat once they reached the third floor. The hallway was the busiest he'd seen as people went in and out of their rooms, relaxing and hanging out as the first day of classes wound down. Gus felt a stab of jealousy at the easy laughter coming from one of the open doors. Why couldn't it ever be that easy for him?

Which was so selfish. He should be asking why it couldn't ever be that easy for Shawn.

Gus glanced over as he reached their room, taking in Shawn's blank face and slumped shoulders. It had been a long day for both of them. Hopefully they could get a good night's sleep and be able to actually figure things out tomorrow. Assuming Shawn would actually talk to him tomorrow when they were stuck together all day…

The mess in the room wasn't any easier to take in the second time around, and Shawn knelt to start cleaning as soon as Gus took off the leash. Gus pulled out his trash can before realizing his desk was the only place the mess hadn't touched. It was wrong.

He rescued the lopsided butterfly from the pile of papers Shawn had already added to the trash and took a couple of cranes from his bed, setting them up neatly on his desk. They would be his reminders to not push Shawn too far again.

Gus caught Shawn's reaction as he turned around, the slave-mask breaking into a conflicted look. There wasn't any way he'd understand Gus' reasoning, not when he was surprised to still be able to pick his food. Gus shrugged at the look and gave him a half-truth instead. "They looked good; I liked the designs."

Shawn didn't seem to completely buy the answer, but his expression stayed softer as he dumped another handful of papers into the trash. Gus walked to his bed to clean it off, keeping an eye on Shawn out of the corner of his eye. His guilt grew when he saw Shawn pick up the crane with the ink chain around its neck and carefully settle it in his basket. It wasn't Gus'; he couldn't say anything. It was Shawn's choice.

Between the two of them, it didn't take long for the rest of the mess to be cleaned up. Shawn's hands twitched as they looked over the room, like he wanted to clasp them together but was fighting it. "I c-can do better. I can stay here tomorrow."

Gus eyed up the paper animals on his desk. "If you really want to try, we can. My biggest stretch of classes is only three hours tomorrow. But I'd really prefer if you stayed with me. For my own peace of mind, if nothing else."

His guilt as the words left his mouth grew, making him regret his second taco, but his resolve shoved it back down. He was abusing his master privilege again by telling Shawn what he wanted, but only because Shawn was letting his slave-thoughts make the wrong choice. There wasn't any reason to think that he'd be able to handle tomorrow any better than he had today.

"I don't… You're here to learn." Shawn kept his head bowed. Had he met Gus' eyes at all today? "You're not here to worry about your slave."

"I'm here to help my friend," Gus corrected gently. "And my friend is having a hard time right now and deserves to be helped."

"Just because we're friends doesn't mean I'm not also your slave," Shawn said in a surprisingly harsh voice.

"No, it doesn't," Gus agreed. It would be nice if the curse of slavery could be lifted by true friendship's hug, but this wasn't a fairy tale. "It also doesn't change the fact that I'm a weird master, and you're expected and allowed to be a weird slave. I'm not going to stop treating you like a person because we're friends…"

Shawn's fingers clenched into a fist as he said in frustration, "That's what you're doing. What am I supposed to do?"

Gus' mind ground to a halt at the unexpected question and he had to stop himself from not immediately blurting out, 'Get better.'

It was entirely the wrong thing to say, but there wasn't any right thing to say. There weren't any tangible chores to give Shawn to make him more comfortable with acting less like a slave. Gus finally shrugged and admitted, "I don't know what you're supposed to do. But I know you're already doing it." At Shawn's confused look, Gus elaborated. "You can make choices now without hesitating. You barely ever accidentally call me 'sir' anymore. And earlier you were freaked out and still able to tell me what you wanted." Which Gus had promptly ignored, but it didn't change the fact that Shawn had said it.

The explanation only made Shawn look more lost, like a balloon who'd just discovered its last tether had snapped. They'd clearly pushed as far as they could tonight. Maybe even too far.

Gus slowly walked over to Shawn and held out his hand. Would Shawn still accept comfort from him, or would he only see him as a master again? Shawn hesitated for several long seconds before nodding, and his flinch seemed worse than usual when Gus clasped his shoulder. But his tight expression did loosen at the touch, and he took several deep breaths as they stood together.

Gus gave him a minute before saying, "You can wait until tomorrow to decide whether to come with or not. We'll both be able to think better after some rest."

Shawn gave a hesitant nod before leaning further into the touch. "I really am sorry."

"I know. Me too." Hopefully Shawn would know he was talking about more than just the mess.

Shawn took a deep breath and held it before letting it out. "Do you have homework?"

"A bit, yeah." That was something new too. Homework on the first day. "But I can do it later if you need something."

"I actually didn't get a chance to read the comics earlier," Shawn admitted with a small wince.

"Quiet night it is." Gus squeezed Shawn's shoulder and waited another few seconds before letting go and picking up his backpack. It was oddly soothing to dig out his laptop as he heard the bed creak and a comic flip open. This was normal. It made sense.

He just had one thing to do before relaxing in the familiar actions. He opened up his class schedule and sent several emails to his professors and teaching assistants, asking each one whether slaves were allowed in their classrooms.

He wouldn't be caught off guard again.

That night, Gus woke to the sound of scuffling cloth. It only took him a second to realize what was happening; it would have been weirder for Shawn to not have a nightmare after the day they'd had. He mentally braced himself before reaching for the small lamp on his desk. "Hey, Shawn, you're ok. You're not there."

The light clicked on, revealing Shawn pressing himself into the corner of the room, his eyes fixed on his nightlight. Gus moved slowly, staying on the bed as he sat up and assessed the situation. Shawn was frozen in a defensive position, his knees pulled up to his chest with his shoulders wedged into the corner, and he was breathing too fast. But his eyes seemed to be seeing the actual room instead of the past, and he wasn't kneeling. Not a great wake-up, but better than it could have been.

The rules of comfort were different for nightmares, and the first step was figuring out how far away Shawn's mind was. Gus stayed still with his hands clenched in his lap to keep himself from reaching out. "Shawn, you're ok, you're safe. If you're able, it'd be helpful to know if you're with me."

He still hadn't figured out a non-awkward phrasing for that… Shawn swallowed nervously before his eyes darted around the room. "D-Dorm room. You're my master. Eighteen shirts, seven pants, twenty pairs of socks."

Gus' eyebrows rose at the numbers; that was new. And did he really have that many socks?

The counting seemed to be helping; Shawn took a deep breath as he looked at the nightlight again. He added quietly, "Fourteen lines, fifteen leaves, thirty-six connections. Not there."

Gus' heart warmed in pride as Shawn took another calming breath. He asked without asking, "It would be good to know if you can hear me."

Shawn nodded, even as he stayed tightly curled up. "I can hear you."

He didn't even say 'sir'. Gus imagined giving him a tight hug before he said, "We can talk about it, or you can tell me what your favorite line from Home Alone was."

Shawn huffed a microscopic laugh. "Is th-there any other answer than 'Keep your change, ya filthy animal'?"

"I like the macaroni line myself," Gus said, trying to keep his voice light.

Shawn's lips twitched up in an attempt at a smile. The expression faded as he sighed and leaned his head into the wall. "You're never too old to be afraid."

"Yeah… That's a good one too."

The room grew quiet as Shawn continued to take deep breaths. Gus waited, wanting to offer comfort but knowing how risky it was to try anything but talking. Sometimes touch helped; a lot of times it made things worse. He couldn't risk making Shawn see one of his other masters.

"M-My mistress; she didn't do discipline," Shawn said suddenly, breaking the silence. "Not much, anyway. Not the stuff that left marks. Her f-father did those."

Gus stayed quiet, giving Shawn his full attention. It hurt, every time Shawn opened up about the abuse in his past. But he needed to get it out. And it was important for Gus to remember just how much his friend had gone through before they'd met.

Shawn thought hard before continuing. "One night I messed up. I kept talking when I knew I shouldn't. She was hurting, I tried to help, she didn't want it, so I made her hurt worse. It was… the first time I was whipped."

Gus had seen the scars; it didn't make it any easier to hear. He quietly asked, "That was what you dreamed about?"

"No," Shawn said with a dry chuckle. "It was after. Missy wanted me back; she knew I was hurt. I guess… she wanted to take care of me or something. She gave me extra pillows to lay on, a nice blanket, and she didn't even leash me to her bed."

Gus' knuckles creaked with how tightly he was clenching them. Shawn shouldn't say that –nobody should say that– with such a calm tone.

"Problem was, she didn't know how I was hurt. Her father made me put on a clean shirt before I went back. She screamed when she saw the pillows in the morning; they looked like a crime scene. Her father came running in and… he wasn't happy." Shawn shrugged, his face blank as he quoted, "A slave doesn't make messes."

"He punished you for that?" Bile filled Gus' mouth as he remembered blood on his wall the first night he'd brought Shawn home. He'd known it had scared Shawn, but he'd never let himself wonder if there'd been a history behind that fear.

Shawn nodded. "I had to clean it up the best I could, then he took me back to the shed. He made sure I knew I'd messed up and left me there until I wasn't bleeding anymore."

"Son of a fucking bitch." Gus spat out, barely able to keep himself from snarling. "And I'm guessing it didn't occur to him that bandages might help with that?"

Shawn's lips twitched up in a humorless smirk. "I didn't earn the privilege. And I think he liked having a punching bag attached to his desk." He let out a long breath before finally looking up to meet Gus' eyes. "Then we're here, and I mess up, and I make a mess… and you apologize."

Gus took his anger and channeled it into conviction as he said, "Because it wasn't your fault. Not back then and not now."

"I messed up," Shawn repeated, like he was trying to make Gus understand.

"You didn't have a choice."

"There's always a choice…"

Gus sighed at the broken logic and slowly stood up to walk over to Shawn's corner. The worst of the danger was over now. He still didn't reach out as he sat on the floor, leaving enough space between them so Shawn wouldn't feel trapped. "What would you have done today, if you were free?"

Shawn frowned, looking caught off guard. "I don't understand the question."

Gus rephrased, "If you were free, and I went to class, would you have made that mess?"

"I wouldn't be here if I was free."

Gus winced at the matter-of-fact tone, even if Shawn was right. "Fine, in some alternate universe, where everything was the same, except you could hide you were a slave… What would you have done when you started freaking out?"

For a long moment it looked like Shawn wasn't going to answer as he clenched his jaw and stared into the distance. Gus was just about to take back the question when Shawn said, "I wouldn't have stayed in the room."

Gus nodded; it was the same thing he'd thought. "But you had to stay in the room, because you're a slave."

Shawn gave a jerky nod in agreement.

"And that's why you didn't have a choice." Gus inspected his hands, unable to look at Shawn as he admitted, "And that's why I apologized. It was my fault for putting you in a situation where you didn't have a choice."

Shawn let out a breath and his legs moved, stretching out next to Gus'. "I don't… w-want to make things harder."

"I know." Gus didn't want to ask; he didn't want to know the answer. He still had to ask, "Do you actually want to do the janitor program? And I'm not talking 'the lesser evil' kind of want. I mean actually want to spend your time being ordered to do stuff."

"I… I don't know." Shawn shrugged, his arms still wrapped tight around himself. He sounded lost, like he wasn't just talking about the slave program when he repeated, "I don't know."

"If it makes you feel any better, I don't know either," Gus admitted, giving a small wave to indicate their room. "About any of this."

Shawn looked him over before making a small movement so he was sitting with his back to the wall instead of the corner. "It actually does."

Gus nodded in understanding, and they sat together in the silence.

Gus' laptop played a notification, letting him know he had a new email. He glanced over to double check on Shawn as he clicked it. Neither of them had gotten any more sleep, but the tension that had been in the room before the nightmare was gone now. Shawn was sitting on the bed and reading his second comic book, though the lack of sleep seemed to be catching up to him. His eyes kept unfocusing every page turn, and he'd stare off into space for a minute or more before focusing back on the story.

Would he be alright staying with Gus all day? Or would he actually be able to sleep if his master wasn't in the room? Gus sighed at the day that was already starting with worries and read his email.

[Thanks for reaching out with your question. As per the university's rules, slaves are allowed in the classroom. However, to reduce any distractions or disruptions, I do ask that they stay in the slave corral in the back of the room instead of being with their owners. Unless your slave is needed for accommodations (which your email didn't indicate), in which case I'm happy to make an exception. See you in class!]

All of his professors had answered his question surprisingly fast, and nearly all of them had said variations on wanting to 'reduce any distractions'. Which begged the question of how much more distracting a person could be if they were kneeling quietly next to a desk instead of the back of the room. Though, in hindsight, maybe he didn't want to know the answer. Slaves weren't the only people in the equation…

Gus turned away from the disturbing thoughts and told Shawn, "Well, good news. You're allowed in all of the classes today. So far, the chemistry lab on Monday is the only one you can't go to. The TA said there wasn't enough room and that it's better to not deal with the fumes if you don't have to."

That email had actually been the friendliest out of the batch. It was the only one that seemed to take the slaves' comfort and safety into account.

Shawn slowly closed the comic and put it on the bed. "I'm still coming with you?"

"I think it would be better, but I meant it when I said it was your choice." Gus mentally crossed his fingers, praying that Shawn would agree with him. "There'll be plenty of people to watch, and you'll get to be out of the room and moving. Who knows, maybe you'll even like the lectures."

Shawn raised his eyebrow in a judgmental look; a clear reminder that he hadn't been in school since seventh grade.

"...Or not. Don't worry about what I want; make whatever choice you think is best for you." The chance of Shawn actually thinking about himself was slim to none, but Gus still had to try.

"I can…" Shawn looked around the room as his thumb rubbed his knuckles. He sighed and continued, "I can go with you."

"Ok," Gus said as relief rushed over him. He went back to his computer, giving Shawn space. "We still have a few hours; let me know if you want to do anything besides read."

Shawn's only answer was to pick up the comic and flip back to his place. Gus nodded and started typing, 'Tips for teaching yourself how to not be busy.'

It was time for more research.

The hallway was bustling as they made their way to the stairs. Dozens of people walked by, wearing anything from pajamas with towels on their head to regular street clothes with backpacks slung over their shoulders. A cute girl wrote on a whiteboard, her tongue sticking out in concentration, and a boy in a letterman jacket swaggered past her like he owned the floor. An alarm clock beeped through one door as another door slammed closed on the other side of the hall, its resident already jogging towards the stairs.

Gus looked back, checking to see how Shawn was doing with the chaos. It'd suck if he became overwhelmed before they even left the dorm.

Surprisingly, Shawn seemed to be handling it well. He was holding himself in the proper slave position, his hands clasped in front of him due to the backpack he'd asked to carry. But he wasn't hiding behind his slave-mask yet, and Gus caught him glancing around quickly before ducking his head back down. It was a promising start.

A door opened in front of them as a teen with green hair walked out, and Gus couldn't help but do a double-take as his brain tried to figure out if they were a girl or a boy. Another person followed, a female slave with brunette hair.

The teen met Gus' eyes and smiled like they'd known each other for forever. Their voice was upbeat and didn't give away any hints to their gender. "Hi there! How's it going?"

"Hi," Gus answered automatically. He didn't really want a conversation, but apparently he was stuck with one. "It's going good. I'm just heading to class."

"Awesome, we are too! Want to walk together?" The teen asked excitedly.

Gus took a second to look the slave over again, noting the lack of bruises, the easy way she held herself, and the way that her leash had slack in it. Would it really be that bad to get to know someone else? And maybe Shawn and the other slave could-

He cut off the thought at the memory of being asked if he was setting up a playdate. He wasn't doing that.

Gus tried to cover up the awkward pause with a large smile. "Sorry, but we're kind of in a hurry. Late start."

"We won't slow you down." The teen started walking towards the elevators. "I'm Rowan, by the way." They jerked their head back, indicating the slave. "And she's Penny, because she's pretty as a penny."

It seemed like they were hanging out, whether Gus wanted to or not… "I'm Gus." He glanced behind him. Shawn looked the same as a minute ago, though his eyes were staying down now that a free person was paying attention to him. "And this is Shawn. Because he's… Shawn."

"Nice to meet you. What are you studying?"

"Business."

"Dang. I'm Engineering. I'm pretty sure we're not supposed to get along." Rowan shot him a bright grin. "Though I've never really been one to go with the flow."

Somehow, that didn't surprise Gus. He nodded towards the door next to the elevators. "We usually take the stairs. Don't feel like you have to-"

"Exercise is good for me," Rowan interrupted him cheerfully. "Lead the way."

Rowan kept up a steady stream of chatter down the stairs, their free hand waving in an almost-flamboyant way. They'd just reached the bottom of the stairs when Penny tripped and nearly fell down the last few steps. She regained her balance at the same time Rowan reached out for her, and Gus noticed how she froze when her master touched her. Rowan kept both of their hands on her shoulders as they asked, "Are you alright?"

"I'm sorry, yes," Penny answered quietly.

"Try to be a bit more careful, yeah?" Rowan ran a hand lightly over her hair. She answered an affirmative as they turned back around. "New place, new expectations… Makes them a bit skittish, huh."

"...Sure," Gus answered as he looked between them. Rowan had been friendly with their slave, but there was still something off about the interaction. Shawn seemed to think so as well, as he looked up for much longer, studying the slave.

"So, you said you were running late, right?" Rowan asked as the group continued to stand in the stairwell.

Gus shook himself at the reminder and started walking again. "Right, sorry. You two seem close, have you had Penny for long?"

"My parents bought her… four years ago? Got her for cheap too; the family selling her needed cash fast." Rowan shrugged, not seeming too concerned with why Penny had needed to be sold. "Their loss. She's been absolutely perfect. What about you and… you said his name was Shawn?"

"Yeah, I actually only bought him a few months ago." This really wasn't a conversation he wanted to have. Especially not in front of Shawn. Why had he started it?

"You bought him?" Rowan asked in surprise. "Not too many people our age can afford that…"

"Well, it was more like I bought him with my parent's money without asking." Gus opened the front door and welcomed the warmth of the sun. "Which way is your class?"

Rowan stared at him for several seconds, their mouth gaping before they pointed off to the right. Gus nodded and turned to the left. "Our class is this way. We'll see you around."

"Yeah… See you," they answered as Gus walked away.

He couldn't help but smirk at the reaction, even as he mentally rerouted to his class since they'd turned the wrong direction. He looked over his shoulder to say, "Sorry I couldn't get rid of them earlier. You ok?"

Shawn looked over his own shoulder, watching the teen and slave walk away. "Yeah, I'm ok."

"Think you'll be able to tell me if that changes?"

"...Probably not," Shawn reluctantly admitted.

"Alright. I'll just check in more often." Gus turned and led them down a new sidewalk, his shoulders feeling wrong without a bag hanging from them. "Let's see what you think of English Lit."

Gus wrote on the back of the syllabus as the professor said the same things every other professor had said yesterday. He kept an ear out for anything important, but most of his attention was on the short list in front of him.

One of the few useful things he'd found in his morning research was the question 'What actually relaxes you?' It wasn't something he'd really thought about before; everyone always just said they were relaxing, and that was all there was to it. But now that he was trying to break it down to its simplest form for Shawn to learn, he actually had to figure out what relaxation was.

The dictionary defined it as 'The state of being free from tension and anxiety', which he'd written at the top of the page. The word 'free' was now bold and indented into the paper from how many times he'd traced over it while thinking.

"...most of your grade will be from the quarterly papers…" the professor said, her voice phasing in and out as she said things of interest.

Gus flipped his paper over and quickly underlined the header talking about papers before going back to his assignment. Shawn was anxious about everything; it was a state of being for him. There'd only been a few times Gus had seen him not be at least a little hesitant about what he was doing. Unless he was in slave-mode, but those things didn't count right now.

Should they count?

Gus shook his head and focused on the short list of activities he knew helped Shawn calm down when he was anxious: going for walks, playing games, reading comics, Gus telling him something made him happy… He debated crossing the last one off; it was still slave-related. But it was also one of the fastest ways to ease Shawn's mind. It was also a distressingly short list, and the only things Shawn was allowed to do by himself involved sitting still. Which he obviously couldn't do for long amounts of time without orders.

He needed more options. He needed something that Shawn would think was useful without it being tied to being a slave. He needed to understand what actually drove Shawn's need to move, if it was only slave-related or something else as well. There were too many unknowns to be able to solve the equation.

In math, that just meant he needed to find another equation to compare the variables, but how did that translate to real life?

"... we'll be starting with Shakespeare, but not the typical ones you've probably already read. For your discussion groups, you'll be reading The Taming of the Shrew. This classic play-within-a-play forces us to look at social hierarchy, expected roles, and what it can look like when we either follow or defy those roles…"

Gus immediately tuned into the lecture, listening until she started droning on about why Shakespeare was still applicable in the present day. He usually hated reading classic plays –things made more sense when they were stated plainly– but the current assignment actually sounded useful. Maybe he should read ahead of his homework schedule…

He glanced back, checking on the few slaves who were kneeling along the back wall. Apparently, 'slave corral' was just the official term for the area in a room that had the hooks for the leashes. Which was better than he'd envisioned, but it still set his teeth on edge on how everything regarding slaves seemed to be designed to make them less than human.

Shawn was at the end of the row, looking like the typical slave with his blank face turned to the ground. Gus held his breath and waited, praying for a sign that he was ok. His chest was prickling for air when Shawn finally moved, his eyes glancing up to scan the room quickly. His roaming gaze met Gus' and held the look for a second before his eyes dropped to the ground again.

Gus let out his breath and turned back around. Shawn was doing ok, Gus was doing ok, this could work. This had to work.

He couldn't mess things up again.

A/N: I'm a bit of a theatre nerd, so here's a fun fact about The Taming of the Shrew. Not only is it a play-within-a-play, but a musical was written about it, Kiss Me Kate. It's about a theatre group putting on a production of The Taming of the Shrew. So… A play-within-a-play-within-a-play-within-a-play, hah! Kiss Me Kate is also the inspiration for one of Shawn's previous names, coming from the song lyrics, "Any Tom, Dick, or Harry," which was name-dropped in one of the first chapters.