Roman and Eli were waiting for them on the road, Eli with his cheeks pink from the cold and dimpled with a smile and Roman with hungry, lingering eyes. 

“You’re joining us too, are you, Duran?” Roman asked.

“If I’m welcome,” Duran said.

“You are very welcome,” Roman assured him. “Come on. My cabin is just a bit further down the road.”

As they walked, Duran gravitated to Eli’s side. He was simpler. So excited he had a bounce to his step. So excited he was already tenting his pants. 

Roman led them to a small cabin a bit back off the road and, as soon as they were inside, Duran grabbed Eli and kissed him on the lips. He heard Hamish laugh.

Duran stripped Eli out of his shirt, replacing its warmth with his own body heat as he removed his own as well. He made sure to keep his back to Roman as he sat Eli down on the edge of the bed and started tugging his pants off. He didn’t need any questions about his scars just then.

Not that Roman’s attention was on him just then. He and Hamish had already found their way onto the bed halfway and they were busy undressing one another.

Eli helped Duran get his pants the rest of the way off and then leant his head back, his mouth going wide as Duran swallowed him down. Someone’s pants were tossed onto the floor next to Duran and he heard Hamish ask about oil, but all he cared about was watching Eli’s beautifully expressive face. It turned out more than just the cold made Eli’s cheeks flush.

Hamish was making sounds and begging to be fucked and Eli was twisting his head to watch what was happening behind him. Duran shoved Eli down so that his back hit the bed without taking his mouth off of him and his eyes locked with Hamish’s as Roman lifted his hips and drove in deep.

Hamish had said he wanted to learn from Duran’s blowjob skills, so Duran took the opportunity to show off just how dexterous his tongue was, just how well he could coordinate it with his lips. Eli was wriggling beneath him, so he swallowed him down deep again, setting a quicker rhythm now as Hamish slammed back against Roman’s every thrust.

Eli came with a cry, back arching and hands tangled in the bedsheets, sending an electric rush through Duran. He had barely finished riding that wave when he was hit with a second. When he looked up, Hamish’s stomach was painted with a milky white splatter and Roman had pulled out, still hard.

Roman’s eyes raked over Duran’s body as he stroked his cock. “How about we finish each other off?”

Duran considered Roman. He was a tough, older man. The kind of guy his master would have brought home. Duran stood up, his fingers playing with the button on his pants. “Can I fuck you?”

Roman clearly hadn’t expected that question. His eyes tracked over Duran’s body again, a different kind of assessment in his eyes. “Okay.”

“Ooh!” Eli said, rolling onto his stomach and crawling further onto the bed.

Duran stripped out of his pants and climbed onto the bed to grab the discarded bottle of oil. He poured some onto his fingers.

Roman’s chuckle held a nervous edge. “How do you want me?”

“Head down, ass in the air..” Duran glanced up from his oily fingers. “Unless you have other preferences?”

“No, that’s fine.”

“This is hot,” Hamish murmured into Eli’s ear, and Eli nodded excitedly. They’d wrapped up in the blankets on the end of the bed.

Roman got into the position Duran had instructed, but he was clearly new to this. Duran had to tap his thigh until he spread his legs further to allow proper access, and his whole ass clenched at the first touch from Duran’s oiled fingers.

Duran gave him a moment to see if he would change his mind about the whole thing, but Roman just shifted his position and made himself relax. Duran gave the curve on his back a rub with his non-oily hand. There were certain things about the way he looked, the way he’d acted, that had put Duran on alert, but he didn’t actually seem to be like the men he reminded Duran of. Duran pushed an oiled finger into him.

Roman let out a breath. Not pained, just surprised. It was a rather confronting sensation the first time.

Duran had experienced it with his own fingers before anyone else’s body had gotten involved. They were taught that their sexual innocence was part of their value, but he’d had no intention of going into something like that unprepared. At first he’d thought he didn’t like it, but once he’d gotten used to it, he’d realised sex didn’t have to be a one-sided pleasure.

He looked over at Hamish and held eye contact as he pressed a second finger into Roman and then curled them upwards, finding that little nub that could be not enough and too much all at once. It was almost funny how hard Roman fought to stay still as Duran’s fingers brushed against it. He’d lose that control soon enough.

Duran pulled his fingers out, oiled his cock, and pressed it up against Roman’s entrance. “Any second thoughts?”

Roman shook his head. “Do it.”

Roman tensed as Duran pushed inside. He was tight, still not fully relaxed. Duran stroked his hip as he gave him time to adjust to the intrusion.

It had been a while since he’d done this. When you looked the way Duran did, everyone wanted you in a certain way, and when you were a slave, there was no room for compromise. You were whatever someone else wanted you to be.

He didn’t think he could explain to anyone else why this mattered so much, why sexual identity and expression were such an important part of who he was. He supposed he didn’t know the ‘why’ of it himself, but to him that didn’t really matter.

Sex was an art and Duran was an artist. He slowly moved his hips, getting Roman used to the new sensation as he gently readjusted the angles of their bodies. When Roman drew in a sharp breath, he knew he’d found the right spot. 

As Duran picked up the pace, he turned his head and caught Hamish’s gaze again. It was hard to tell what he was thinking, but he was certainly paying attention. There was something here, something within Duran, that he desperately wanted Hamish to see and understand, but he didn’t think that was possible.

Roman stayed quiet at first, a single, stray moan surprised out of his lips quickly cut off, but as Duran sped up, Roman’s control started to slip more and more until he was making sounds with every inward thrust. Duran reached under Roman, his hand barely having a chance to encircle him before Roman let out a cry, his body clenching tight and pushing Duran out. Duran shut his eyes as a dizzying flush of energy ran through him. When his head stopped spinning, he pushed Roman forward onto his stomach and then stroked himself until he came over his back.

Duran lay down on his back next to Roman and shut his eyes. There was a special kind of inner content he’d only ever been able to get through human orgasm, and it felt even better now that he didn’t have to hush away dark thoughts around how they’d been achieved. 

Someone moved closer to them and Duran cracked open his eyes. Eli had gotten a rag to clean up Roman’s back with.

Duran swept his hand out and brushed the mess away with his magic. Roman and Hamish had gotten their seed all over the bedsheets, but he’d clean that up later.

“Wow!” Eli exclaimed. “You’re so cool.”

Roman rolled over so that he could look at Duran. “That was a new experience for me. You certainly know what you’re doing.”

Duran liked the way he said that, liked that it probably hadn’t even occurred to him how Duran had come to have that knowledge. He deliberately hadn’t turned his back to any of them since he’d taken his shirt off. He hated that his past had to taint everything, that it claimed these parts of him as its own.

He made eye contact with Hamish and then tilted his head towards where he’d discarded his shirt. Hamish got it for him and he put it back on. He doubted Roman or Eli would question the exchange when they were all huddling against the cold.

Duran finished cleaning everyone and everything up and then they all bundled together under the blankets, Duran at the edge next to Hamish and Roman on the opposite side with Eli next to him. Hamish had a contented smile on his face as he pressed a kiss against Eli’s cheek, another against Duran’s, and then snuggled down deeper in the blankets and shut his eyes.

Duran shut his eyes as well as Roman put the lights out, and then opened them again and stared up at the dark ceiling. He really wasn’t tired. The sex had been good, but this was pushing what he was comfortable with. He’d fuck a stranger, but cuddling up and sleeping with one was a different matter.

It was hard to tell that to three men who seemed so happy to do just that, though. Telling them he was leaving felt so mean, so dramatic. So he didn’t tell them.

Being a slave taught you many skills, such as patience and how to tell from the sounds of someone’s breathing how deeply asleep they are. Duran lay there, still and silent, until everyone else was asleep, and then he slipped out of bed, got dressed, and left the cabin.

#

Duran wandered aimlessly down the road, not really knowing where he was going. He didn’t have a plan for where he would spend the night. He probably should have just stayed put, but he was wary about putting ‘shoulds’ over what his instincts told him. The only reason he’d been so good at resisting the training he’d been put through as a slave was his unwavering trust in himself, and he wasn’t about to lose sight of that now. Of course, maybe that became more complicated when you could actually do anything you wanted. There were more, or at least different, things that needed to be considered when your world extended beyond the walls of a single house.

As the sound of a whistle reached his ears, Duran lifted his gaze to see a figure seated in the shadows on the grass, waving at him. Slone. There was something about the way he moved that always seemed laid-back. His size also set him apart. Duran walked across the grass to join him.

“Everything good?” Slone asked. He had their bags with him and had taken off his shoes, but was still fully clothed.

"Yeah, just needed some space," Duran replied as he knelt down next to his bag and unstrapped his sleeping bag.

“Ah. Me callin’ you over here counterproductive to that?”

Duran shook his head. “You’re fine. Just… strangers. They’re a bit much. Is it weird that I’ll fuck someone I hardly know, but I’ll draw the line at sharing a bed with them?”

“Nah. Everyone’s different, right?”

"I guess I'm just wondering if I should ignore my own feelings and preferences in order to conform to social norms and gain acceptance," Duran explained, adding with a hint of cynicism, "I don't want to sound negative, but sometimes doing what we want isn't the best option. If part of our role here is to act as diplomats, maybe I should try harder to make a good impression."

“I reckon you make a pretty good one when you’re just you.”

“Hm. Thank you.”

Duran settled onto his sleeping bag and gazed up at the stars overhead. While the bed had been more comfortable, he rather enjoyed the idea of spending the night outdoors under the open sky.

#

Half asleep, Hamish reached out for Duran, but his hand only found empty space. He squinted his eyes into the darkness and patted around, but Duran was definitely gone.

Hamish got up and found his clothes, as well as a lack of Duran’s. He dressed before the cold could seep in too deep and left the cabin. A chittering sound next to him had him reaching for the knife, but it was just Cookie. When she started walking, he followed.

He didn’t have to walk far before he saw Duran and Slone laying out on the grass, a ball of magelight making them a beacon in the darkness. He headed out towards them, and by the time he got close, Cookie had disappeared again. Slone waved.

“What are you doing out of bed?” Duran asked.

“I could ask you the same,” Hamish countered. “I woke up and you were gone.”

“Too crowded.”

“Fair.”

“You may as well enjoy having a bed for the night if you were comfortable there, though.”

“Nah.” Hamish knelt next to his bag and unstrapped his sleeping bag. “If I cared that much about comfortable beds, I’d have stayed home. Not that I have a home right now, or a bed for that matter, but I've never had much trouble finding someone willing to share."

Hamish spread out his sleeping bag between Duran and Slone, took off his boots and coat, and settled in. It wasn't as warm as a bed full of naked men, but it was cosy enough.

Duran spun his magelight in the air above himself as he let it slowly fade out.

“Goodnight, my sweet boys,” Hamish said into the darkness.

“G’night,” Slone said.

Duran let out a soft laugh. “Goodnight, Hamish.”