A Jewel in the Dirt - 17. Somewhere between Lover, Brother and Slave

"Hey!" Dante protested with a laugh, ducking under the crumb TJ threw at him before taking a crumb himself and aiming it at TJ. The puff pastry, while delicious, had left quite a mess on the table and underneath.

"You throw so bad-" began TJ with a sardonic grin, but Miss Carolyn barked in between:

"Really! Worse than the little kids!"

"Mistress, I-" It was probably just Dante's luck to be on the wrong side of the table, because TJ got a hard slap in the face.

"You clean the dining room! By yourself! Dante, Alice called for you."

"Yes, Miss Carolyn." Hastily he dropped his rag on the dining room table and made to get away; in the background Miss Carolyn continued to nag.

The rushing of water came from Mistress Alice's bathroom and he knocked on the closed door. "Mistress?"

"Come in!"

He slipped through the door and closed it behind him before leaning against it; his Mistress stood under the shower and faint cherry scent hung in the warm humid air. "You just saved me from a telling off from your mother. Thanks for that."

She snorted. "You're welcome." The shower walls were wet and fogged, but her silhouette was still clearly visible, and Dante caught himself letting his gaze wander along her. "I've been talking to Frank. He'd really like it if you stayed over at his place on a regular basis. And you know what? You'll get a chance to do that right away: I'll go over to Maggie's and stay there." As she spoke, she turned off the water and then stepped out of the shower.

Dante nodded and handed her her towel, fleetingly thinking that he'd rather sleep in her bed than Frank's, but he pushed the thought aside and remarked with careful amusement: "Maggie won't be the only one delighted."

She sighed and gave him a stern look. "No boys at the sleepover."

"Poor Matthew..."

With a roll of her eyes, she began to towel herself off.

"What's up with the rumors about him, anyway?" he then followed up.

"Nothing." she replied promptly.

"Nothing?"

"Nothing. Since he's very obviously interested in me, he's hardly gay, at most bi, and even that's nobody's business. And his potency really doesn't need discussion now."

"Oh, do you know from personal experience?"

"No."

"Then why do you defend him so vehemently?"

"Because he's a good guy."

"Yes, but-"

"Anne left him because, unlike many others here, he takes his membership in the Brotherhood very seriously."

"What kind-"

"But I wasn't going to gossip with you about Matthew now. Be a good slave and take care of Frank." Mistress Alice was clearly annoyed, and so Dante nodded hastily, his head lowered.

"Yes, Mistress. I beg your pardon." He could be cheeky and insolent all he wanted, but as soon as she was in a bad mood, he'd just get himself in trouble and maybe even damage the good relationship- and he certainly didn't want that. "Is there anything I can do for you first?" he wanted to know quietly.

"No."

~

Frank was in the process of putting freshly washed clothes into his closet and had to pull up his sweatpants, which were slipping alarmingly, after almost every move. "Hey..." he said a little absently.

"Hey... your pants are slipping."

"No kidding. The ribbon broke earlier." Frank made an annoyed sound. "Alice is with Maggie?"

"She's probably leaving in the next few minutes, yeah..." Dante nodded and put down the things he'd brought with him. "Speaking of... she mentioned Matthew belongs to a brotherhood. Do you know anything about that?" To his surprise, Frank gave a grunt, half snide, half offended.

"The Brotherhood of the Thorn Rose. It's a religious thing. But I don't really know anything either, except that they all have some tattoo down there somewhere."

"Hmm." Dante sauntered over to Frank and leaned against the closet. "Must be important, though, if Anne left him for that."

Frank's reply was a shrug, and as he stretched to stow a pair of jeans somewhere further up, his pants made a final descent. Only in his long-sleeved shirt and socks- why wasn't he wearing any underpants anyway?- he looked a little ridiculous and Dante grinned. With an annoyed growl, Frank shook his pants off his feet and then said: "Stop laughing."

"I'm not laughing, I'm just grinning."

Something in Frank's face twitched and then Dante squealed as Frank lunged and tickled him. "I'll give you a real reason to laugh..."

"Oh! Hey... stop it... that's not... not fair... I..." Dante squirmed, chuckling, and tried to counterattack several times, but Frank's hands seemed to be everywhere and, not being used to such attacks, he was quickly completely out of breath and slipped under Frank's renewed attack with the last of his strength- only to stumble against the doorframe of the bathroom door.

Frank grinned broadly. "Had enough laughs?"

"I surrender!" gasped Dante, face contorted under a maniacal grin.

"Excuse me?" Frank braced himself against the wall beside him, which might have been threatening in another moment, but still looked rather silly considering the lack of pants.

"I..." Dante gasped, his abs aching from laughing. "I surrender, sir." Great Mother, the last time he'd been tickled like this had to have been at the Children's Home. He looked up, saw Frank's suddenly thoughtful expression, and was about to say that this had been really fun when Frank suddenly leaned over and kissed him hard. The kiss was over faster than he could react from surprise, though, and then Frank had turned away and entered the bathroom.

"About the brotherhood, you could ask Pa..."

"Yeah..." mumbled Dante, caught off guard.

Dante had made himself comfortable, the blanket up to his chin, when Frank quietly said:

“I was thinking…”

“… yeah? About what?”

“About what you said.”

“I think I said a lot…”

“Yeah, but… I mean the kissing.”

“Oh…?”

“I like it.”, Frank said shyly. “And I would like to kiss you a bit more…”

“Oh, um…” Dante didn’t know what to say, was asking himself again if he should say no, if he was supposed to say no or… what if Mistress Alice had had exactly this in mind? He couldn’t imagine for real, but still…

Frank’s hand was moving over his arm to his shoulder and to his face, cupping his cheek and the next moment warm lips pressed on his. It felt like a shy request and Dante was annoyed at himself for not hesitating before kissing back- yes, he liked kissing, no doubt about it, but Frank was for sure not the best choice. Or the wisest.

As much as Frank’s tongue pushed into his mouth it pushed into his thoughts, slowly and anew as a request, and the second Dante opened his mouth the timeframe for stopping all this snapped shut. The kissing was slow but intense, way more than any kiss of Tom ever had been, and when Frank’s hand slowly crept under Dante’s pajama top to caress his belly and chest, his dick sprang to life. This was something completely different from Tom's stolen kisses, somewhere in the cold basement with the fear of being caught unpleasantly in the back of his neck.

Gently, almost tenderly, Frank caressed Dante's back, running his fingertips along the whip scars which had turned into palpable welts, and just as Dante had convinced himself to return the gesture, Frank's careful movements beckoned him to take off his top. Nervous excitement shot through his limbs as he pulled the shirt over his head and noticed Frank doing the same. How far would Frank go? How far would he let Frank go? Would he even say stop at any point?

But first he sank back into the soft bed and realized how good warm naked skin felt on warm naked skin. Frank's erection pressed through their pants into his lap, stirring up a certain fear and slight reluctance of what might be coming, but it was also strangely arousing. And most of all, it was a strangely invigorating, arousing, exciting feeling to feel Frank getting goosebumps and shuddering under his touch, his whole body twitching and a low moan escaping him as Dante gently played with his nipple. He straightened up a little to have more freedom for movements and brushed his lips over Frank's cheek up to his neck. When he kissed him just below the ear, Frank shuddered again. He had learned a bit from Tom and so he nibbled gently on Frank's earlobe, drew patterns on his neck with the tip of his tongue and bit gently into his collarbone.

With a low moan, Frank grabbed Dante by the waist, pulled him half on top of him and with the intoxicating feeling of being wanted, Dante placed sucking kisses on Frank's chest before turning to his nipples. Frank's body shook and his warm rough hands slid under the waistband of Dante's pants, grabbing his butt and fondling it. Dante could feel Frank's dick twitching, sucked on his nipple and smiled as he let out a lustful whimper. With touches and kisses Dante elicited sweet little sounds from him and again and again a shudder or a twitch and it felt awesome. He slid a hand between them and into Frank's pants, just enough to tease his tip a little, and Frank jerked his hips and moaned.

"Dante..."

With a smile, Dante leaned over, kissed Frank's neck, sucked on his earlobe, and noticed casually how Frank was kneading his ass with twitching fingers. He opened his mouth, but the words on the tip of his tongue died away. They were words Tom had whispered to him while he had jerked him off, and that felt wrong. More than that, he realized now that he had let himself get carried away by the power Frank's lust was giving him, and he suddenly felt pretty sleazy. Was it actually punishable to seduce a man considered mentally retarded?

Frank, however, interpreted Dante's hesitation differently and turned the tables.

Dante gasped for air, which was cut off by a hard greedy kiss. Now Frank was lying half on top of him, literally pressing him into the mattress; the sensuality Dante attributed to himself was obviously completely lost on Frank. Still, a moan escaped Dante's lips as Frank's mouth moved along his neck, sucking and kissing, and Frank's hands pulled down his pants. Of course, this didn't leave him cold, but the arousal his body felt only partially reached his mind, which was rather busy sorting right and wrong, forbidden and allowed, wanted and forced. He heard himself moan, he squirmed and dug his fingernails into Frank's back as his gentle bite into Dante's nipple sent an electric shock through his entire body. Suddenly he wished Frank's mouth would move further down, but it moved up, back to his neck, while Frank's fingertips began to caress his dick.

Dante couldn't have told how his hand had come to the back of Frank's neck, pulling him down so he wouldn't stop kissing- somewhere in the back of his mind there was a worry he would have to explain any red marks, but he pushed it aside for now. Frank's fingers gently caressed and brushed over his dick, far too lightly and yet most tantalizingly. There was no comparison to Tom's hard quick strokes, which had turned all the pleasure and satisfaction into something disappointingly short-lived; it only now really struck him.

"Show me how to do it right," Frank whispered, and before Dante could give the words any real meaning, his hand was guided. Frank's dick felt even bigger and more impressive than it looked.

And then Dante lost himself in the overwhelming mix of kisses and touches and lust, they moved, shuddered, moaned, and somehow there was barely room for their hands. He wanted more- but not like this- though his confusion, his inner turmoil to what he actually wanted was drowning in his lust.

"Dan-" Frank made a surprisingly shrill sound which turned into a low rumble, and came all over Dante's belly. His moans and hot breath made Dante shudder.

Dante's hand, having done its job, slid to his balls and caressed them as he jerked his hips needily, for Frank had paused for a moment.

Frank gasped and turned his attention back to Dante, but the brief interruption seemed to have done something, because two heartbeats later Dante's mouth opened in a silent scream and his orgasm literally tore him apart.

"This," Frank murmured as if from afar, "was incredible."

"Yeah..." Dante muttered back out of breath. In the darkness he saw mere shadows, but he turned his head in Frank's direction anyway and was a little surprised when Frank sought his mouth and kissed him gently. And he was even more surprised when Frank placed a kiss on his shoulder afterwards; it seemed to him- no matter how intimate they had just been- a strangely intimate gesture.

"I think we should wash," Frank whispered, and Dante, who was starting to feel uncomfortable with the sticky stuff on his chest and belly, agreed wholeheartedly.

~

After the alarm clock rang, the morning began with far too many, far too intense kisses on the part of Frank, which Dante had to stop with more vehemence than was good. Therefore, much too late, a disgruntled Dante and a slightly offended Frank reached the kitchen and hadn't even started eating when Seth and Daniel already came in.

"Did something happen? You guys are so late..." Seth immediately asked with a worried undertone.

Frank beamed at him with a childlike enthusiasm which belied what they had done last night. "Dante was telling stories from Denser's Port yesterday."

Dante got into the story and made a guilty face. "Maybe I am a little homesick after all."

Almost immediately loving, compassionate smiles appeared on the faces of the two slaves. "But please don't keep yourselves overly awake. There's always something to do." Seth said, and Dante nodded in time with Frank; he found it almost frightening how convincing Frank's childlike innocence was, though it was almost as frightening that apparently no one expected anything else of him.

And the contrast between the two sides, which Dante now knew of Frank, was also damn strange.

~

"Tell me... did they throw the riddles of the world at your feet, or why have you been pulling such a brooding face for the last three days?"

Dante shoved the shovel into the frozen ground and then looked over at Tom, who was standing a few feet away, leaning on his own shovel. "Can't I even think?"

"Slaves don't think."

Dante snorted. He knew what Tom was getting at, but he certainly wasn't going to blurt out this delicate truth to the world. "I had a talk with Frank," he began instead. "And... damn it, he's not stupid, but everyone treats him like a stupid kid. Nobody bothers to question anything, nobody-"

"Because it's convenient.", Tom interrupted him, strangely disgusted. "Outwardly Mistress Carolyn would do anything for her son, poor little damaged thing, but basically he's just a frugal worker. Invisible as long as he doesn't open his mouth."

Dante was about to say something, but Tom shook his head.

"You see it. Your mistress is the only one who halfway cares about him, but even she has other priorities at heart. It used to be Blaise, but I think the whole story is hurting him too much. It's eating him up."

"Is that why he seeks comfort from you?" Dante asked with bitter derision and Tom shrugged.

"Possibly. I mean, what does a freed slave have to look forward to when his own family is so broken up?"

Dante had no answer to that and with an uneasy feeling in his stomach, he turned back to his work. Unfortunately, digging damaged fence posts out of frozen ground wasn't very mentally challenging, so his thoughts drifted to Blaise and Frank and Tom. A freed slave who loved his wife and children... And then Dante frowned as something occurred to him. Blaise had said he loved Tom like a son- but should you really say that about a man you have sex with?

The low rumble of a jeep snapped Dante out of his thoughts and he raised his eyes; Valentine was obviously in a hurry and roared past them. "Do you think something happened?", he wanted to know worried and Tom rolled his shoulders uneasily.

"I hope not..."

Frank, who arrived a minute later with other tools, also looked worried. "Val was in quite a hurry," he said quietly.

"As long as Doc Willers doesn't come with flying colors, too, it won't be too bad," Tom said reassuringly.

It didn't take an inordinate amount of time for Valentine to leave at an equally high speed, which clearly reassured Frank and Tom, but Dante, for some reason, wasn't. As soon as they finished their work, he nodded to Tom and went to check.

~

Inside the house nothing spoke of a catastrophe- Mikey was singing to a song at the radio while preparing something in the kitchen- and therefore Dante hurried up the stairs. He heard one of the girls reciting some poem, but stopped dead in front of his mistress door. If he hadn’t seen Valentine leaving the farm, he would assume Mistress Alice was yelling at her fiancé. After a shrill angry scream there was a thud and carefully Dante opened the door to poke in his head.

What he saw was a mess. The room was a mess with clothes and books and a lot of other stuff thrown around and his mistress was a mess as well, the personification of helpless, angry desperation. “Mistress…?”

With another scream she spun around. “Go away!”

“Mistress, I-”

“Fuck off! Leave! Go!”

When he didn't react immediately, she threw a whole series of insults at him - under other circumstances he would have run away with a bright red head, but his mistress wasn't quite in her right mind. In all the chaos, there were shards on the floor- two teacups and a picture frame had been broken- and the completely distraught way she was behaving made Dante fear for her. It didn't take a genius to imagine what had happened between her and Valentine.

"Get the hell out of here!"

"No." His answer wasn't quite as firm as he would have liked.

"No?" A hint of puzzlement flitted across her tear-streaked face.

"No." He stepped fully into the room, closed the door behind him, then knelt beside it. For a moment he thought her anger would now be directed at him, but after a frustrated cry she continued to throw things around, though nowhere near as raging as before- Dante had been quite successful in breaking through her whirlwind of emotions.

Finally, she just stood there, sobbing, tugging her hair, and Dante slowly rose. Carefully, he approached her - she backed away from him, but when she was about to step into the broken glass, he grabbed her and pulled her to him. She resisted, punching and kicking, but he held her firmly, taking full advantage of his physical superiority, and after a while she gave up.

Her head sank against his shoulder and she sobbed in exhaustion.

Gently he caressed her back and her hair and slowly the fear that she might hurt herself ebbed away, giving way to the desire to help her feel better. He wanted to protect her- from herself, from Valentine, from the whole world if he had to- and so he lifted her up and carried her to her bed. She just let it happen, her limbs will-less like a doll's as he set her down and, driven by a sudden wave of affection, sat down beside her and pulled her again to him.

Her head rested against his chest, her hand curled into his shirt, and as he wrapped his arms around her and rubbed her back soothingly, she once again began to cry.

He didn't say anything, didn't know what he should have said, just leaned his cheek against her head at one point, wishing he could do more than that.

And so they sat there while time passed and it went dark in the room. From time to time, muffled voices came in from the hallway, and after a while Dante was glad that he had been straight to the bathroom after taking off his dirty work clothes. Mistress Alice practically didn't move, only stopped crying at some point. Finally, when there was a knock, she minimally raised her head.

"Alice...?" It was Blaise. "Alice, it's Pa, are you all right?"

She didn't respond.

"Alice, please open the door!"

"Mistress?" whispered Dante, but by then Blaise was already opening the door himself and turning on the overhead light. Blinded, Dante blinked, then suppressed a sorrowed smile as Blaise looked at the mess, completely stunned.

"I..." he cleared his throat, "I'll bring you some food up," he said quietly, and disappeared.

"I don't want anything to eat.", Mistress Alice muttered when the door had closed.

Dante sighed; he could understand her, but it wasn't good. "Do you want me to fake-eat for you?"

She lifted her head and looked at him, and following a feeling, he wiped her cheeks with his sleeve, even though her tears had long since dried. It felt good. "Why not..." She slid out of bed and disappeared into the bathroom, staying there until Blaise returned with a tray and two plates.

Dante set it down on the desk and frowned. His stomach reported hunger, but appetite was not there, so he forced himself to eat.

When Mistress Alice returned from the bathroom, there was still enough left for her to get sated as well, but she didn't dignify him with a glance and instead put on her pajamas as if he wasn't even there.

He watched her and thought to himself that she was too thin and needed to eat more, wondered why Valentine had left her (if that was even the case), and again felt an urgent desire to hold her comfortingly in his arms.

"Go away." she said half-heartedly as she slipped under her covers.

"No." he returned quietly. She didn't elaborate, so he stepped up to her bedside, turned on the bedside lamp and turned off the overhead light, and began cleaning up the mess.

He was far from finished when she sighed deeply. "Dante..."

"Yes, mistress?" He slid a dress onto a hanger and hung it in the closet.

"Change your clothes... and come here..."

"Yes, mistress." A little puzzled, he closed the closet and complied with her request; when he hesitantly slipped into her bed, she turned her face away, almost ashamed.

"Don't leave me alone." she whispered, turning out the light.

"No, mistress." he assured her, and was little surprised when she snuggled into his arms. Instead, he was happy that she trusted him, and he held her until she fell asleep, though the position was not exactly comfortable for him. Listening for her quiet breaths, he kissed her gently on the crown. "If you don't sell me, I won't leave you alone..."

~

Dante was awakened by a hand sliding under his pajamas and caressing his belly.

Mistress Alice had snuggled against his back, her face pressed between his shoulder blades, making a sound that sounded like a purr.

She's dreaming, Dante told himself, but turned to face her, wondering briefly what his morning wood had to say about it- though her hand slid upward, the answer was an expectant twitch.

She stretched, her lips brushing over his chin and just reaching his mouth as her fingertips brushed against his collar. Immediately she paused, then jerked back. "Damn!"

"Mistress...?" Dante sat up and couldn't help but touch the stupid slave collar himself.

"Oh, damn it!" Her angry exclamation turned into a sob.

"Mistress..." He reached out to touch her, but no sooner had he made contact with her back than she hissed:

"Don't touch me!"

He backed away, raising his hands apologetically. "I was just trying to comfort you." In return, he got a deadly stare that actually hurt.

She sank down, quivering and trembling, and softly, slowly, he repeated his words:

"I only want to comfort you."

"I don't need comforting." she said barely louder and almost bitterly. "I let him go."

"... let him go?"

"His aunt, the High Priestess, has set up a sponsorship program. For men in the medical field. He's allowed to participate, of course." She snorted quietly. "A year at the training hospital in Denser's Port..."

"But-"

"He asked me to go with him."

"Why did you say no?" Dante wanted to know, completely dumbfounded; the decision was utterly incomprehensible to him.

"I can't leave Frank alone."

Flabbergasted, Dante blinked at the back of her head. "You... you're leaving the man you love for your brother?"

"Maybe you haven't noticed," she began venomously, "but I'm the only one here who cares about him, and I know I'm not doing enough." She gave him a look that made him flinch. "But do you have any idea how hard it is sometimes to even look at him? No? How could you, you have no family..."

Confused, caught off guard, and even a little offended, Dante sat there and swallowed hard.

"Ma would never let me take him, and on top of that, he wouldn't want to go at all."

"And that's why you flush your own happiness down the toilet?" He saw the slap coming, but it still stung.

"My twin brother is dead and Frank is-"

Don't say anything wrong now or I'll hit you back! it flashed through Dante's mind as hot anger rose inside him. If she really wanted to help Frank, there were other, better ways to do it, even he knew that.

Maybe she could read those thoughts on his face, because suddenly her anger died away. "Go." she said quietly. "I don't want to see you again until bedtime."

Obediently, he slid out of bed and bowed. "Yes, mistress." The near future would be interesting...