A Small Piece of Heaven - Part 3

Milliardo didn't want to wake up. He was warm and comfortable, and the sedatives in his blood had reduced the pain in his muscles to little more than a dull ache. He just wanted to go back to sleep and hold on to that feeling for a little longer.

Suddenly he felt a pair of hands on his body, warm and soft. His sweatshirt was pushed up and carefully pulled over his head.

Slowly, cautiously Milliardo opened his eyes, his mind still foggy from the painkillers, and he found himself stretched out on a soft bed. Somebody was untying and removing his shoes. When his eyes focused he recognized the man who was undressing him as the same who had first foiled his escape attempt and later intervened when Phillips was tormenting the hell out of him.
What had he said his name was? Treize Khushe…Khushre…something. The young man stifled a yawn. It was still too difficult to think clearly or even to keep his eyes open.
Milliardo did faintly remember that the man had talked about buying him. So he had been sold, once again. That would explain why he wasn't at the S.A.U station anymore. The young slave shuddered as he felt an ice-cold shiver running down his spine. What - aside from uncertainty- did that mean for him? Was he in for more pain and suffering? Or could he dare hope that his new master was going to treat him better than most? The man did stop Commander Phillips and his men, true. But he had also lied to him when he promised that he wasn't going to be punished in the first place.

His thoughts were interrupted as a pair of slender hands moved deeper, down to his hips, slid under the waistband of his pants slipping them off. He didn't wear any underwear. The officers at the station considered one layer of clothes enough to deal with when they came to him for quick…whatever they called it.

Okay, so his new master had helped him and now he was taking his "reward" for it. Not that Milliardo had expected anything else. He had learned a long time ago that kindness always came with a price.

Milliardo tensed involuntarily, unable to suppress a slight shudder.

Treize raised his head and looked at him.

"You are awake?!" His voice matched the tenderness in his sapphire-blue eyes. "This will make things easier."

I wouldn't be so sure about that.

"Relax, I'm not going to hurt you," the duke added, at the hint of panic in the blond's eyes. "I prepared a bath for you. It should help to ease the tension in your muscles. Do you think you can walk?"

A bath? Milliardo blinked sheepishly, staring for a moment at the man. Then, remembering that he had been asked a question, he quickly nodded.
"Yes, Master." His voice was hoarse, his throat still sore.

He sat up, swinging his long legs over the edge of the bed and rose, only to find that he still had little control over his body and his legs felt like they were made of rubber. But before he collapsed a pair of strong arms encircled him, steadying him, and helped him to sit back down.

"Easy now," Treize whispered. "It looks like you aren't quite ready yet to do this on your own. Let me help you."
Milliardo tensed but didn't protest when his master scooped him up, carried him into a luxurious bathroom and placed him gently into the large marble tub.

The young slave closed his eyes as he slowly slipped into the warm water until he was submerged all the way to his neck. It had been so long since he was able to enjoy the luxury of a hot bath. A quick shower was the best he could hope for at the S.A.U. office, and only when he got lucky a shower with warm water.

I had almost forgotten how good this feels. Milliardo couldn't stop the small moan of content from escaping his lips. His master had been right; the warm water did wonders on his sore muscles.

Mistaking the sound for discomfort, Treize looked at him in concern:
"The water isn't too hot is it?"
Milliardo shook his head.
"It's perfect, Master."
The ginger-blond man gave him a soft smile. "Excellent, then try to relax and enjoy this while I take care of you."

***

The duke settled down on the wide rim of the bathtub. The tub was large enough to accommodate two grown men comfortably, and Treize could imagine himself joining his blond slave for a bath. But that would have to wait. For now he was more concerned with putting the young man at ease. He wanted to make Milliardo realize that he was safe and that he wasn't going to be forced to do anything he wasn't ready for.
As Treize explored the young slave's slender figure, soaking in every hidden detail, adoring its sensuous beauty, his eyes fell upon a bruise on the blonde's chest, where Phillips had kicked him. The dark purple mark stood in heavy contrast to the otherwise peach-colored skin. The ex-colonel's brows narrowed in anger.
How can anybody mistreat such a lovely creature? Might as well torture an angel. I will be damned if I'll ever let anybody hurt him again, he swore himself.

When he reached out to soak Milliardo's hair the young man's eyes flew open, startled.

"Relax! I'm not going to hurt you" the duke assured him once again. "I was just going to wash your hair."
The young man nodded and slowly closed his eyes again.

Treize cupped his hands in the water and doused Milliardo's head a few times to get it wet. Taking a bottle of shampoo from the corner edge, he poured a generous amount into his hand before working it into the young man's hair. He almost became lost in the task as his hands delicately lathered and massaged his slave's scalp. The pale-blond strands glistened in the light as he tenderly cleansed them. The ex-colonel noted in satisfaction that Milliardo started to slowly relax under his massaging hands.

"Lean back some." He gently nudged the young man backward.

Milliardo inclined backward, allowing his master to rinse out the suds and dirt. Treize lathered and rinsed the young slave's hair a few more times till it was silky and soft, then went on to cleanse the young slave's body.

Although he seemed tense and somewhat wary, Milliardo was surprisingly compliant. Of course, Treize realized that this was largely a result of the sedatives still in his blood. The real challenge would come tomorrow, when the young man's mind had cleared.

"Do you think you can stand up yet?" the duke asked once he was finished bathing his slave.
Milliardo nodded. "Yes, Master."
Treize helped him out of the bathtub, reached for a large soft towel and put it around the young man's shoulders.
"Let me go see if I can find something for you to wear."

***

The older man left, and when he returned a few minutes later Milliardo was standing, towel around his hips, in front of the mirror working a few tangles out of his long hair.
"Take these." Treize handed the young slave a pair of silk pajama pants. "They are probably a little short for you but it will have to do for tonight. Tomorrow we will get you something that fits better."
"Thank you, Master," Milliardo replied subdued.
He finished drying himself off, dropped the towel and slipped the pants on. All the while his eyes remained cast down, not looking up at his master even once.
Treize waited for him to get dressed then led him back into the guestroom. He walked over to the wide bed, pulled the ivory colored comforter aside and gestured for Milliardo to get in. The young man followed the unspoken order obediently. He pulled the covers up to his chest and waited, warily, not sure what his new master was planning to do next. He had a pretty good idea though - or so he thought.
Milliardo had to force himself not to cringe away when the older man reached out to touch him. Treize brushed his knuckles softly over the young man's cheek, then leaned down slowly and placed a ghost of a kiss onto his forehead. "Sleep well. I'll see you in the morning."

Milliardo blinked in quiet amazement as his master simply walked away and left the room.
For the longest time the young man just lay in the dark, marveling about the softness and warmth of the bed he was allowed to sleep in. His towel-dried hair was still damp and as he burrowed his head into the soft pillows the sweet fragrance of the shampoo started to mix with the smell of freshness radiating from the sheets.
When sleep threatened to overwhelm him Milliardo fought to stay awake, afraid that he might wake up in his cell at the S.A.U. office and find that it had been all but a dream.

***

Milliardo woke at the sound of a door being opened. As if somebody hit a switch in his brain he went instantly from deep slumber to being fully awake. He could hear footsteps approaching the bed, but the young man didn't open his eyes yet. There was no reason for him to give away that he wasn't asleep anymore.
I must be still dreaming, he thought. I can smell food. I'm hungry alright, but not that starving that I'm already starting to hallucinate, am I?
"Milliardo, wake up," a soft voice whispered close to his ear.
The young man cracked his eyes open slowly to see his master standing over him, a tray with dishes and food in his hands. Milliardo's mouth watered at the delicious smell.
"Sit up," Treize commanded. "You must be starving."
The young slave pushed himself up against the pillows and his master set the breakfast tray in front of him.
Milliardo stared at a large plate filled with scrambled eggs and bacon and a basket with freshly baked rolls.
"Eat," the duke told him. "I'll send somebody to fetch the dishes later." He turned to leave, but stopped at the door for a moment. "I want you to drink all of the orange juice, Milliardo."
The young man nodded as he picked up the fork. "Yes, Master."
Milliardo ate slowly, savoring every morsel of the tasty meal. He couldn't be sure if his master was going to feed him again any time soon, so it was best not to waste a single bite.
When he was finished the young man set the tray with the empty dishes down on the nightstand and stifled a yawn. He was full, comfortable, and although he had only woken up a short while ago he was starting to feel sleepy again.

***

Treize was sitting on the terrace, reading the morning paper when Evans informed him that Dr. Parker had just arrived.
"Thank you, Evans." The ex-colonel nodded in acknowledgement. "How is Milliardo doing?"
"When I went to retrieve his dishes he was asleep, Sir."
"That's good." Treize rose and walked into the house to greet the doctor. He had called his personal physician the night before, because he wanted the man to examine his new slave. Considering what Milliardo had been through he wanted the young man to be thoroughly checked over. Treize had decided that it was probably best, as much for Milliardo's own good as for the doctor's protection if the blond slept through most of the somewhat invasive and probably also a little painful procedures, and he has slipped a light sedative into the young man's breakfast juice.

*****

A few hours later Treize went to check on Milliardo. He assumed that the young man was awake by now. As he walked into his room with a cup of tea, he found the blond slave standing by the window staring into the garden below. Milliardo was wearing a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. He was so lost in thought that he didn't even hear his master walk up to him. When Treize touched his shoulder the young man jerked around and moved away from the touch so fast that he almost knocked the cup out of the man's hand.

"I'm sorry, Master," he apologized as he recognized the duke. "You startled me."

"It's alright," Treize replied, backing of a couple of steps to give the blond some room. "I want you to drink this."

"More drugs?" Milliardo asked quietly as he accepted the tea.
Treize shook his head. "It's just something to sooth your throat."

The young man looked down at the cup in his hand with suspicion.

"I assure you there are no drugs in the tea. You've got my word on it".
"You also gave me your word yesterday when you said that I wouldn't be punished if I gave myself up," Milliardo stated quietly.
The trace of accusation in the young man's voice was hard to miss. It stung, but Treize couldn't really blame him. He sighed. "I wasn't lying when I said that, Milliardo. I never expected things to happen the way they did. I'm sorry about it and if I had had the slightest idea I would not have let it happen, that you have to believe."
Milliardo didn't answer, but took a sip from his tea. It was sweet and tasted a little like wild berries.

"You like my garden?" Treize changed the subject, gesturing to the window.
"It's beautiful," Milliardo answered, and then in a wistful voice continued. "It's been a long time since I have seen grass and flowers."
"You do not have to stay in this room, Milliardo. You are free to go outside whenever you feel like it," the ex colonel told him. "I have no intention of treating you like a prisoner."

Milliardo gave him a surprised look; obviously he hadn't expected that he was free to roam the premises.

"Thank you, Master."

"You are welcome. " Treize smiled softly. "I just got an excellent idea. The tailor will be here shortly to take your measurements, so we can get a few decent outfits made for you. But that should take no longer than 30 minutes or so. I'll instruct the kitchen to prepare a picnic basket in the meantime, so that we can have lunch outside by the lake."

***

Treize had spread out a thick blanket on the grass underneath a large oak tree. He was dressed in loose tan colored cotton pants and a white shirt. Both he and Milliardo had taken their shoes off and walked around barefoot.

The large picnic basket they had brought along was filled with meat and cheese, bread, fruits, desserts, a bottle of wine for Treize and juice for the Milliardo. The blond slave was eating a piece of fried chicken, savoring the delicious flavor. This was so different from the tasteless rations he was used to.

Treize, who had only eaten a few pieces of bread and cheese, sipped on a glass of dark red wine. When Milliardo looked up and found his master's eyes trained on him he quickly averted his gaze and stared out onto the large lake. The autumn sun was breaking on the water surface, creating little pools of light. The temperature was warm for late October and the light breeze felt rather pleasant.
"It's beautiful out here, isn't it?" the older man suddenly said.
"Yes, Master," the blond slave agreed.
For a while neither of them spoke. Milliardo stretched out on his back, his head resting in his hands and looked up into the blue sky. Yes, it really was beautiful and so very peaceful.
He could hear his master rummaging in the picnic basket, but he didn't turn his head.

"Do you like strawberries?" the duke asked.

"Um…yes, Master," Milliardo nodded as he propped himself up on his elbows. But before he was able to fully sit up Treize put his hand on the young man's chest, stopping him

"Stay right where you are. Open your mouth!"

The blond hesitated for just the fraction of a second before obeying without a question.

A moment later something juicy and fresh was placed in his mouth. He swirled it around on his tongue for a moment, relishing the sweetness, before he chewed it and swallowed.

"Hmm…this is good," Milliardo gave an appreciative sound. He couldn't remember the last time he had eaten something so delicious.

Gods, I've got to be dreaming. This is way too good to be real. If it is a dream, I don't ever want to wake up.
Beside him, his master chuckled quietly. It was a low and very pleasant sound.
"Just wait, it's getting even better," he said as he removed the lid from a bowl filled with whipped cream.

***

Treize sighed almost regretfully as he took the last strawberry and dipped it into the whipped cream.
"Last one, sorry," he told Milliardo who was already waiting, mouth open in anticipation.
When he slipped the sweet fruit between those sensual lips, the young man's tongue darted out, licking the last of the sweet cream from his master's fingers. Although it was a very innocent and probably unintentional action, it sent a prickling jolt of heat into Treize's groin.
Oh, god, does he even realize what he does to me?

Milliardo's eyes closed as he relished the delicate fruit. A small drip of juice escaped his lips, trickling slowly from the corner of his mouth. Almost without thinking the ex-colonel leaned froward and licked the liquid from the young man's lips.
Amid the sweet flavor of strawberries he could make out Milliardo's personal scent. A taste that was very unique and - in Treize's opinion - very addicting.

The blond slave's eyes flew open at the unexpected change of events, but he didn't pull away. When Treize didn't feel any resistance he smiled inwardly. He lifted a hand to cup the back of the young man's head and covered Milliardo's mouth with his own in a slow, drawn-out kiss. His tongue traced the blonde's full lips, playfully asking for entrance. His mind was too clouded with desire to notice right away that Milliardo had turned rigid in his arms. But once he did, he pulled away at once.
Milliardo's blue eyes were wide with panic; his fist clutched the blanket beneath him.
Treize was stunned to say the least.
Great god, what have they done to him? What has he been through to make him react like this to something as innocent as a kiss?

"I'm sorry, Master." Milliardo sat up and pulled his knees against his chest. He dropped his gaze, but his master caught his chin, lifting it till their eyes met.
"Milliardo, you have done nothing to be sorry about," he spoke softly. "If anybody should apologize it should be me. I did not mean to frighten you. I suppose I got carried away. If I ever do anything you are uncomfortable with, I need you to tell me, Milliardo. The last thing I ever want is for you to fear me. Do you understand me?"
"Yes, Master."
The reply came too quick, and Treize knew the young man was only given him the answer he thought he wanted to hear. The duke sighed inwardly. There was a moment of awkward silence before he suggested.

"Maybe we should head back. Would you like to accompany me later this afternoon to the stables? I have to check up on some of my horses?"

"Horses?" Milliardo echoed. "I think I would love that, Master."

"Do you know how to ride?"
The blond nodded. "My fa…, one of my masters used to have horses."

Treize looked at Milliardo. He could have sworn that for a moment the young man wanted to say something else.