Sex in C Major

They caught the bus, which felt crowded and oppressive. Stefan tucked himself under Daz's arm, as there were no seats available, and wondered if he really wanted this reward. He didn't have any money anyway. And to be outside of the house felt as though it was tempting fate. What if he accidentally wandered off? Or they ran into Dean, or that stranger from the dirty flat?

He found himself rubbing his hand against his thigh repeatedly, touching the cuff, and went against his own instincts when they got off the bus. He didn't like to hold hands-men didn't, even gay ones, not in Leeds-but Stefan found himself suddenly exploiting his femininity, and slipping his fingers between Daz's as they got off the bus again near Briggate.

"Alright?"

Stefan hummed.

"You seem a bit jumpy."

"Bit nervous."

"Why?"

Stefan wanted to fob it off and not talk about it. But not talking had got him into trouble before. So...

"I've gotten used to just being in the house, I think."

"Yeah, well, that's not exactly healthy."

"I like it there."

"But you shouldn't be a shut-in. Slave or not."

The casual use of his position gave Stefan an odd, warm rush in his stomach.

"I guess not..."

"Absolute slavery is bad for you as well, you know," Daz said casually, as though they weren't walking down the middle of a busy shopping street. "You need to be able to make decisions. Think for yourself. Live day-to-day without us."

"Why? Where are you g―"

"We're not going anywhere," Daz interrupted. Smooth. Calm.

Stefan squeezed his hand, and it squeezed right back.

"But you need to be able to function independently. Without blowing drug dealers for smack."

Stefan coloured. "It wasn't smack."

"The state of you and your flat, it might as well have been."

The flush deepened, and Stefan ducked his head.

"As long as you behave, do as you're told, and obey the rules, then you can do whatever else you like. And you need to be able to."

Part of Stefan wanted to deny it and forever let Daz make every single decision for him. The other part, cruelly, saw the sense in it. Daz couldn't be around all of the time. He had work. Parents in Birmingham. And Stefan was increasingly sure, with his distaste for Daz's affection, he wasn't interested in a boyfriend or a lover or a partner. He wanted an owner.

And owners, sometimes, went away.

"When will the rules stop changing?"

"When I can trust you," Daz said vaguely, and tugged Stefan by the hand towards Trinity Walk. "Come on. It's Yannis' birthday next month, and we need to get something special. It's the big three-zero. Might take him away for the weekend somewhere, if I can trust you on your own by then."

Stefan licked his lips. "When?"

"The twelfth."

Be trusted by the twelfth. He could do that. He could.

"So...what are we going to get him?"

Stefan didn't like shopping, usually. But with his hand caught in Daz's, it...wasn't so bad. He'd lose this, he knew. If he started to pass, then he'd lose the ability to hold Daz's hand in public. He'd not be able to put their joined fingers in a pocket. Daz wouldn't kiss him for finding a good birthday card-that was rather cruel on the age front, actually-and maybe even hugs would go out of the window.

But it would be worth it, he figured, when his skin crawled at the jaunty, "Gift for your girlfriend, dear?" in the Lindt store.

"For the boyfriend, actually," Daz returned blandly, but she obviously thought he was joking, and tittered.

Stefan hunched his shoulders as they walked out of the shop.

Daz squeezed Stefan's fingers.

"Take it you're not keen on people calling you a girlfriend?"

"No."

"One day, eh?"

"What if I never pass?"

"You will. Yannis thought the same."

"But some people never do."

"You're also quite tall, for a former girl, and your voice is a lot deeper than it used to be. A couple of months, you won't be mistaken on the phone anymore."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"But-"

"Are you arguing with me?"

The suddenly cool tone sliced through Stefan's doubt, and he shivered.

"No, Sir."

"Better," Daz said, glancing at his watch. "Come on. Corn Exchange."

The walk to the Corn Exchange an impressive old building filled with expensive boutiques that Stefan had never had the money to be able to dream of before was a weave amongst thick crowds and women with buggies, and Stefan found himself once again exploiting his body for what it was, rather than what he wanted it to be, slipping his hand into Daz's and allowing himself to be towed.