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_ Chapter 5: _

Othello saw the first blow driven squarely into The Duke's smirk. Duke's cheeks puffed for a split second with unexpelled breath before his head flew back. It was just like watching his own fight with Angel but from the outside.

Duke's brows furrowed as a fount of blood spurt, then dribbled, from his lips. The pain didn't seem to register yet, leaving him looking confused instead of hurt.

Angel gripped the front of Duke's letter-jacket and hit him again. His eyes were that strange black-purple again and Othello watched as the shard gorged itself on Angel's rage. It began to heal itself with each blow, becoming brighter.

"Angel, that's enough." Othello's voice came out soft, as if it didn't want to be heard after all, but Othello cleared his throat and tried again. "Angel!"

Angel turned dark, pleading eyes to him. "'Thello!" He begged, "Please, Othello. I want to hit him again! I really, REALLY want to hit him some more!"

Something about this plea pissed Othello off.

"No." He said, this time successfully putting that echo in his voice.

Angel's eyes went back to blue immediately, flooding with defeat. He dropped the Duke, who fell backwards, dazed. Angel sat back down, shaking.

"Don't send me away..." Angel muttered. "I choose you, please don't send me with him, okay...? Stay my man."

Othello listened to the words, but couldn't believe he'd heard them. He watched Angel, watched the bogey that had him. "Can you convince me that ALL of you wants that, Angel?"

Before Angel had a chance to answer, he was dragged from his seat by Ames. "Callihan! Melbourne! Montague!"

Oh, goddammit...

Another teacher was hauling Duke to his feet, and walking him out of the cafeteria.

"Ames!" Othello jumped from his seat, unsure of what to say next.

Ames just looked at him before marching a compliantly silent Angel from the room.

Othello started after them, but Jean grabbed his hand. When he turned to look at her, she let go of him as if she realized he had thorns. She looked at him with confusion. In that same moment, Niel was on his feet. When Othello glanced away from Jean to look at Neil, he saw the halo of theorems around his head swarm angrily, apparently from the strange dull glow that was building just under his skin. Still, the look on his face was one of alarm.

He's possessed too? He's coming for me too?! Othello reacted; muscles tensed and a frustrated sound clawed its way past bared teeth. Jean, who was about to reach for him again, pulled her hand back and Othello made his escape, chasing after Ames and Angel.

He caught up to them just as the reached the Principal's office.

"Ames! Ames, stop!" Othello jogged to catch up. "Let him be."

"I'm still your teacher, Montague. Watch your tone." Ames started for the door handle.

"Ames!" Get bent, you sack of shit and "Let Angel go!" Othello managed to gnaw up the disrespectful parts before they came out of his mouth.

"You know I can't do that." Ames said. "Two fights in one week-- And don't think I don't know how you got banged up!"

Angel looked up at Othello, regret shining in his eyes.

"What's going to happen to him...?" Othello asked.

"I'll be expelled..." Angel said sullenly.

"We have a no tolerance policy, which he's already violated more than a few times..." There was no other word for Ames' expression, but disappointment. "I really am sorry, boys..."

"Why...?" Othello said, anger rising to an acrid boil. "Ames, you knew what's wrong with him! Why did you let it get here!?"

"Better here than when he gets out in the world." Ames said, eyes narrowing.

Othello's anger was undercut by curiosity, but then, when curiosity became bewilderment, it only just added to his frothy rage.

"What the HELL?!" Othello snapped.

"That's my line!" Ames said frustrated. "What do you WANT me to do?"

"Give him another shot. Shit's different now!"

"Why should I?" It was almost petulant, the way Ames smirked as he asked.

"Because he's MINE!" Othello said, bluntly. It felt good to day it so plainly. "I'll keep an eye on him."

Ames sort of gaped at him, before starting to giggle. "Yours? How?"

That stumped Othello cold. Something was off... No... Off-kilter... Yeah! That's it... What was his usual answer for being unbalanced...?

Angel grasped his hand, and in that moment, the world righted itself. More than that, his place in it righted itself.

He squeezed Angel's hand and sighed. "He's important to me. I see something him... I see a lot in him, actually." Othello never once looked away from Ames' eyes. "I want him. He wants me. His... transgression came from someone trying to cheapen that... Does that make sense?"

"Sure it does." Ames' said, eyes growing intent. "Do you have any idea at all what you're asking? What this would mean to you, in particular?"

Othello guessed that this might have something to do with his gift... And then he thought about Be Tempted and the last guy who was... "connected with his gift"... Would Angel influence that somehow...?

Or will he just BE influenced...? The Conquer-Beast licked his chops. Othello ignored it.

"I don't know..." He finally answered Ames' question. "... I just know that he needs me. And I want him. I can handle the rest as it comes. Just let me speak for him." Othello spoke, saying the words as soon as they were formed in his head. He'd never been able to speak this way before! And he liked it! "Let me protect my boy."

Angel gave his hand a tight squeeze. "Thanks..." He whispered sheepishly.

Don't thank me yet... There's no way that Ames is going to--

"Fine," Ames said, smirking.

Othello felt his jaw drop. "Just like that?"

"Not 'just like that'," Ames mouth set in a hard line. "I'm placing a wager on you. This won't be an easy test, but I believe in you. Kaard."

Othello felt a tingle in his ears as they perked at the familiar name. "What's the bet? What're the stakes?"

"What's the game?" Angel piped. Othello glanced at him.

"The game," Ames smiled. "Is too big for you to know right now... Trust me, but more than that, trust yourself. That's the only rule you need to know."

Othello hesitated, hating that Ames was talking over his head at him. But then he gave a short nod. Fine. I will... ugh... be a piece in this game... For Angel. The Conquer-Beast shook himself at the thought.

"Now, on to the subject of punishment for Angel's... 'transgression', you called it?"

"What!?" Both boys demanded.

"Well?" Ames said as if it should be obvious. "We can't have this happening again. Right?"

Angel let go of Othello's hand. "But you just said--"

"That I'd let Othello accept responsibility for you." Ames' look silenced Angel, "That means that he'll be in charge of your punishments."

The boys were silent as the bell rang, signalling the end of the boys' lunch period. Ames moved away from the Principal's door and began ushering them into the tide of student bodies. They were herded into Ames' classroom and each took a seat in the front. Ames sat on his desk.

"Let me tell you what is about to happen." Ames said softly. "You're going to continue your classes. Then you will both meet with me - make up whatever excuses home you must!" Ames cut in, just as each boy opened his mouth. " - We will go to Be Tempted, where you will both be made ready for Angel's chastisement. If this does not happen, neither of you will have any backing at all when Mr. Melbourne goes to his parents and then they go directly to the Super-Attendant. You'll be shit in milk. Got me?"

Angel snickered at the clever shit-milk expression.

Othello only glowered. "At what point," He began, "Will this lead me to some sort of straight answers from you? About me?"

"Your condition?" Angel asked. Othello shot him a look, but this time, Angel didn't look away. "Othello, is something wrong with you...?"

"Othello..." Ames looked back and forth between the two. "Othello hasn't been completely born yet."

"Not born?" Othello let out a breath. He looked for disbelief, but couldn't find it... It made no sense, but somewhere in that statement was a whisper of a satisfying answer... "In what sense?" His more logical self asked aloud. "What in me hasn't been totally born yet?"

"Your soul." Ames said.

Othello gulped and the world spun a bit faster than it should have. "I have no soul...?"

"Eh, that's not quite it." Ames said quickly. "It's there, inside you, but it is still developing."

"Developing?" Angel asked, squinting at Othello, as if actually trying to look at his soul. "What's that mean?"

"Short answer: We don't know yet. We've done all kinds of research, and the closest we can figure is that what is, for the rest of humanity, a soul, is, for Othello, a sort of egg, or womb..." Ames leaned forward. "Your soul is still developing... Into what we believe is an incarnation of some... spiritual entity." Ames was specifically avoiding saying something, a word with a lot of weight behind it... Othello thought he might know, but he couldn't bring himself to even think it. Still...

"It must be something special, apparently..." Othello whispered. "That's what They want from me... Out of me...?" He didn't realize he was clutching his chest in both hands, as if his soul was in his heart or something. "That's what the Lost Crown is..." "Lost Crown?" Ames eyes sharpened somehow. "Where did you hear that?"

"From a Kama... Kamaitachi?" He said, not sure he was pronouncing that right. It was odd to hear it outside of its anime/manga context. "A weasel-spirit-thing."

"You were attacked by a sickle-weasel?" Ames asked. "You used the charm?"

"Yes. And I go nowhere without it." Othello fingered it in his pocket.

"You were lucky." Ames sighed, combing a hand through his hair. "That was a powerful enough spirit to break that ward... If it finds you again, it might not work so well twice."

"So... What now...?" Othello stroked his beard, staring into space.

"Like I said," Ames said, watching Othello contemplatively. "Go about your day. Then we will meet up. I'll have more for you then. I promise. Until then... try not to, uh listen to that bit in you... You know the one. The Conquer-Beast, is what you call it."

"Stay out of my head!" Othello was on his feet, snarling.

"Othello, stop! Do you WANT to attract these things!?" Ames snapped back.

"Othello..." Until he spoke, Angel's presence was nearly forgotten by Othello entirely. He touched Othello's sleeve. Othello calmed, the Conquer-Beast appeased.

"I'll cool it..." Othello promised. "Anything else I should know?"

"Not now, no." Ames said, grabbing tardy-slips from his desk. He signed two and sent the boys on their way.

* * *

The rest of the school day would later be remembered as a dull blur to Othello. Nothing about that time really mattered. Not even with everyone whispering about him, Angel, and the Duke. He simply had too many more important things to think about. His connection to the spirits... It was growing stronger, apparently... Why? Why him? Why was it that he was going to have to fight and dominate for any sense of peace? What did his personal kinks have to do with any of this?

He was told that his family was involved somehow... Were they in any danger? Did they have any idea what was happening? Of course his parents didn't, but if he'd inherited this sensetivity, then maybe...?

And then there was Angel. Why was he even bothering with the meat head with all of this going on? A worry he hadn't yet considered was starting to creep up on him: What if he was endangering Angel, with all of this...?

Well... Othello thought, as he packed up after the final bell, That one is fairly easy to answer, methinks...

Angel just sparked something in him. It was a hard thing to admit, but Othello really was growing attracted to him. He knew better than to question the attraction itself, but as long as Angel wanted him, Othello... Well, he felt motivated. He felt connected.

He felt selfish. He was about to be dragged into something he couldn't hope to fathom, and was about to drag Angel down with him, just because he was lonely.

Othello was at his locker, gathering his books and things. He put on his beret, and leather jacket. He closed his locker and saw that Angel was quietly waiting for him, watching him with unasked questions burning behind the baby-blue of his eyes. The look of consternation was cute enough to make Othello smile gently.

"What?" Othello asked.

"Are you sick or something?" Angel blurted. Then he looked away, apparently not intending to sound so rude.

Othello laughed an ironic sort of laugh. "More than you know, my friend. Why do you ask?"

"you have some sort of condition, right?" Angel prodded more gently. "I just... Wanna make sure you're alright..."

"I'm crazy." Othello said, hoping for a shocked reaction.

"Nuh-uh!" Angel scowled, thinking he was being made fun of.

"Oh it's true! Paranoid-Schizophrenia. I'm certified and everything." Othello smirked at the unexpected reaction of disbelief.

"What's that...?" Angel's eyebrows knit.

"It means I hallucinate that boogie-men are out to get me."

Angel scowled more deeply. "That's dumb. Stop fuckin' with me."

"When I was nine, I supposedly teased a dog, and when it bit me, I claimed that it was a monster."

"Quit it, 'Thello."

"When I was twelve, I jumped out of a tree and told me parents that it threw me." Something in Othello loved watching Angel's reactions; disgust, disbelief, and growing fear/pity. Another felt the need to tell these stories, in all of their bullshit glory, to someone who'll actually listen and maybe try to sympathize.

"Seriously, quit it!" Angel said louder.

"Of course, after that, I crawled under the bend and... What was it? Oh, yes! Scratched myself all over!" Othello gave a harsh, bitter laugh. "Now THAT was interesting! I remember it differently."

"Othello!" Angel grabbed Othello's shoulders. "Stop already... I get it..."

Othello tensed, feeling like Angel's touch was sand-paper abrasive. "Get your hands off of me." Othello said softly. Angel obeyed confused, hurt and worried by Othello's reaction.

"'Thello..." Angel looked for something to say and Othello held his breath. "I'm sorry, 'Thello. This was a bad idea. Let's... Let's not hang out anymore, okay?"

Everything in Othello told him that those would be Angel's next words. If he were smart, he'd get away now. Othello almost prayed for it to go that way.

"I'm sorry, 'Thello..." Angel started. The bottom dropped out of Othello's belly. "But it isn't true, right? Tell me what really happened..." He touched a fingertip to Othello's beard, careful not to touch his chin.

Othello heard the words, but more than that, he felt the intent. It was hard to put words for what it was yet. In Angel's eyes... There was something in them. Something Angel usually kept hidden. Othello saw only himself reflected back in those eyes, but it the visage was strange somehow... Othello blinked and tried to reign himself in before answering.

"I used to think it was true, not anymore, though." Othello said, once he was in control of their connection, "But no. You don't get to know what happened to me. Not yet." He reached up and placed a hand on Angel's chest, allowing his little finger to brush over his nipple in the brief second of contact. The Conquer-Beast opened a restless eye when Angel gulped.

Othello turned away.

"'Thello... I..." Angel said in a soft voice. "When your nostrils flare like that... Well, it's hot for some reason..."

"That meant to be a compliment?" Othello said with a snort.

"Just a statement." Angel said.

"That's the most intelligent thing you've said to me."

"That's the first time anyone's called me intelligent." Angel smiled behind him.

"Stay humble." Othello said, chuckling. "At least until you surprise me again."

"Okay." Angel said softly, but Othello could feel him smiling a few steps behind. "But, um... Why are we doing what Ames says?"

Othello stopped in his tracks. "What do you mean?"

"Well..." Angel tried to put his thoughts into words, taking a moment to do so. "It's just, do we got any proof? I mean, of anything he's said?"

"Angel? You have just surprised me again..."

* * *

They arrived at Be Tempted hours before it opened. To Othello, it was a drastically different being during the day. It was a dusty, great hollow thing. Their steps echoed though it like soft breaths of slumber, made more so fitting by the sounds of brooms sweeping the bare concrete floors. Sunlight filtered smokily through the high windows as the trio made their way up to the conference room. Even the hall leading up to the conference room was different. Without the flourescent lighting, with fust the sun, the hall seemed gloomy and stuffy. Foreboding. The double doors themselves were imposing, and stately. But they opened to the very same scene that welcomed him that first night.

Norn sat amongst her adorers on the same couch. But instead of black leather with her silk, she wore a pearly-pink sort of kimono. The way its sleeves and hem cascaded flamboyantly over the couch, it looked as if it'd be ponderous to move in, but she seemed in no great hurry to move anywhere.

"Kaard. Ames. Welcome back." She inclined her head to each of them, ignoring Angel entirely.

"Welcome back, Lord Ames. Welcome back, Sir Kaard..." The chorus rang cheerily.

"This is Angel." Othello said loudly, wanting him to be acknowledged. "He's my--"

Norn grinned and clapped her hands, twice. Nine men rose. Three to Ames' side, three to Othello's. But the others crowded Angel, with happy smiles and mischievous giggles. Angel, behaving himself and under the eye of Othello, didn't fight him off. Angel looked up at him lost, and began stumbling backwards, hoping to escape their grasps. The three ended up herding him through a side door, hidden by silks.

"'Thello...?" Angel called, just before disappearing.

"NORN!" Othello had waited to act, hoping Norn might have called off her game before this part. As the door closed behind them, however, he knew he had to put a stop to this himself, if he could. "Bring him back! Now!"

"Calm, my lord..." Norn said teasingly, "He'll be back shortly, I promise."

"I want him back, Norn!" Othello said, anger rising in him.

"Please stop being so unreasonable." Ames sighed. "I promise, he'll be back, and you'll like what they do with him."

Othello flexed his fingers, and his knuckles made an audible crackling pop, but Otherwise, Othello didn't fight. However, the look he gave the two Magi could have withered flowers.

"That's a good boy." Norn smiled. "Sit. We need to talk, without your big puppy-eyed ogre."

Othello tensed. He felt an itch in his nose that made his lip curl. He sat next to Norn, not looking at her. He glanced and saw that he'd blown off the three attendants. They looked let down, like dogs, waiting to be petted. When Othello looked away, all three of them bowed and backed off, fading into the silken background, figuratively, of course.

"What have you learned, my love...?" Norn purred.

Othello's anger abated a little. He pondered the question before answering. "Kamaitachi." Othello answered.

"What about it...?" Her smile vanished.

"It's..." Othello looked up as he tried to remember. "... A youkai? Spirits... Gods... Fairies... mythic creatures... They're all the same thing."

Norn smiled again, eyes twinkling.

Othello continued. "Western spiritualism is so very passive... It's all about appeasement or banishment... It's not what I need."

"Why not?" Ames frowned. He looked almost offended. He looked as if maybe he wanted to say more, but Norn held him off So Othello could answer.

"These Things are out to kill me... They don't deserve my cooperation. They need to be..." Othello's train of thought derailed, so he faded out, falling silent.

"Go on, my love..." Norn touched his cheek. He reacted and grabbed her fingers. When he glanced at her, her eyes widened and, for just an instant, Othello literally smelled fear. It was sweet, and it opened all of his senses at once, focusing them on her...

But then she was on top of him, pinning him down but between his legs, holding them open with her own. "Watch those fangs, my love..." She bore into his eyes with her own. "You're not the only one who has them." Suddenly, it was Othello who was afraid. Not for his life, but for his manhood. His pride.

"They want to kill me. I doubt the'd even WANT my... my fealty, even if I wanted to give it!" Othello choked out. "They won't get me begging for my life ever again. I won't beg you either, bitch. Get off."

She smiled then. A hungry, lustful grin. "Answer my question. What do these Creatures need?"

Othello knew the answer, but was slow to say it. Again, that damn...

Pride... Othello thought, a light-bulb going off in his head. Pride had done absolutely nothing for him. Not now, anyways. It didn't even feel good, playing tough. It was... Inappropriate her, dealing with thhese people. So he answered. "They need to either be controlled, or crushed." He stated. "Now get off..."

"Ooh... Love, I think I just did..." She giggled. Othello's stomach flipped. Ew.

"Madam?" A familiar voice asked. Norn made a face like child told she had to wait for dessert, even after she'd eaten her veggies... "Done already?" She sighed, "It was just getting good..."

She sat back on the couch to reveal J and Angel. J wore a silk wrapping like the others, but his was wrapped around his hips and groin, with the remaining cloth trailing to the floor from the front. He wore nothing else. Not even the collar the others sported.

Angel had been stripped and rewrapped similarly. Instead of the excess trailing loosely, it was draped over his shoulder, a little like a toga. His body was smaller, and less defined than J's meaty bulk, but Othello had to check him out... Either one of these could be subs in queensguard... Othello's nostrils flared, he'd become conscious of it after Angel mentioned it.

"Much better, J!" Norn jumped up and through arms around the big man. J accepted the hug, with a small smle, but didn't really return it.

"Anything, Lady..." J said, with a slight nod, but then looked past her. "If you'll excuse me?"

"Oh." She blinked and followed his gaze to where Ames waited. "Oh!" Norn repeated, clapping. "Oh, of course, little love!"

As soon as she released him, J flopped next to Ames and pulled the smaller man into his lap, enveloping Ames in affection. Ames let J hold him and bathe his neck and hair in kisses, but only until Ames raised a hand. Then J just cradled him, calming.

Othello watched them... That sort of closeness. This level of affection was shameless. It was something he'd never seen before. Not between married people, or new lovers... The closest comparison his mind could come up with was something shared between a boy and his dog.

A sound took Othello's attention away from the two men. It was Angel, taking a shuffling step forward. He froze when Othello looked up. Looking lost and more than a little scared, Othello was reminded of a kicked dog. Reacting on instinct, Othello held out his hand, palm-down. Angel looked up, and slowly, keeping wary eyes on everyone but Othello, shuffled forward. When Angel stood at arm's length away he reached out and touched Othello's fingertips with his own. Othello waited and watched. He really is like a stray puppy...

"Angel. Come." Othello said softly.

Something in Angel broke. His eyes went wide and he snatched Othello's hand. He held onto it as if for life. When Othello pulled, Angel fell forward almost weightlessly. Angel hugged him, breathing hard. It wasn't kisses like J gave Ames, but it was all there; the unabashed affection, the abrupt honesty.

It threatened to overtake and drown Othello.

"Angel. Down."

Angel stiffened. He hesitated, but then his hold loosened, and he settled into Othello's lap. He was blushing and his breathing was still fast and shallow. He looked so light-headed.

"Tell him what you told me," J prodded gently.

Dear God... What fresh hell is this...? Othello looked up just as Angel shook his head, making his blonde curls bounce and whip around.

"Angel," J pressed. "He needs to hear it..." As if to emphasize some point, he nuzzled into Ames, and Ames responded, stroking J's cheek.

Angel shook his head again, looking defeated. Envy was plain as he watched the older men. "He... Already knows..." Angel spake in a voice that was hardly more than a whisper. He glanced at Othello, who never took eyes off of him, but then looked away again. "He knows I... love him..."

J sighed, trying once more. "Angel. Now is the time for candor - honesty, son - between you and your Man..."

Angel was silent for a long time, but Othello knew he was working up to something.... But Othello was losing patience. "You have something to say to me? Stop being a coward and speak!" Othello dropped his hands away from Angel.

Angel whipped around to face Othello and frustration made him fidget. His eyes were misty and something gave in him again. "'Thello... I need you!"

"Yeah, I got that-" Othello began.

"No you DON'T!" Angel barked, much to Othello's surprise. "I need to be yours... Whatever that takes. Whatever that means... If you don't tell me what I should be doing, I get lost... I'm fucked up. I should be able to... to LIVE for myself, but I can't! I never COULD! But I can live for you. If you let me. I can be good. No, I can be great! For you! Just show me how... I wanna... I wanna protect you, Othello. I wanna... I dunno... I want to see anything you want happen. I want to MAKE it happen. I want to make you happy. I want you to be my Man, because I can't be one. Not really."

"You want to be my slave."

Angel was silenced by the cold response.

"Slave...?" Angel asked, aghast. But then his face went lax, his mind working for a moment.

"Oh yes." Othello stared into Angel. "Butler. Body-guard. Retainer. Attendant. Ward... And Bitch. How far are you willing to go to be with me?"

Angel sat, stunned into silence. So Othello continued.

"I would hurt you, Angel. In ways you may have only dreamed of... You will bleed and bruise and cry. Just because I'd like you to. You will suffer Callihan. I promise you, you will suffer." If everything Norn and Ames had said up until now was true, he couldn't give Angel a happy, normal life. Frankly, Othello had never imagined sharing any kind of life with another human being at all... But now his life was far more complicated than it had ever been before. No. Better if Angel leaves now.

Angel stared into space before taking a shaky breath. "I know... I know because you say so... It will all happen, just like you said... But that doesn't stop me from wanting you--"

Othello slapped him across the face, and watched his eyes roll for a few seconds. When he recovered, there was shock, but Angel still looked at Othello with need.

So Othello hit him again, hard enough to make his palms sting and tingle. Angel recovered faster this time. "Again..." He breatthed.

Othello bared his teeth and slapped Angel again, then again, then again. He hit the other boy until he split his lip. Angel looked at him with cheeks wet from tears and a lip wet from blood.

"You're about to leap into hell, because you find the devil beautiful!" Othello snarled. He watched the clever wordplay sore over Angel's head. "You idiotic APE!" Othello stood, tumbling Angel to the floor.

Othello looked between Angel's legs and saw that the boy was at full-mast. His cock strained against the veil of silk he wore. Just from Othello slapping him around, he'd become totally aroused! The conquer-Beast snuck up on him, and pinned a compliant Angel to that floor. Othello took Angel's split lip in his own and started to lick blood from the fresh wound. Angel squirmed and whimpered, but also kissed back, never actually resisting. If he had, Othello had little doubt that Angel could have freed himself.

When Angel began to mutter again, Othello broke the kiss.

"See? If I can... If I can take it, then I can be with you, right?" Split lip, out of breath, on his back under someone who just swore to humiliate and thrash him, Angel smiled. "As long as I can take it, I can be yours. Right?"

The Conquer-Beast had no answer to this, so Othello reigned himself in. He felt he owed Angel an answer. "No, Angel... You have to want THIS! Not just because it's ME! You have to want to live like this, or it will break you!"

At the last word, Othello caught that scent of fear, but he was in control. Of Angel, AND the Conquer-Beast. He ran fingers through Angel's curls, before gripping a fistful and pulling. Angel winced as he was hauled into a sitting position.

"It can only be you!" Angel cried out as Othello intentionally hurt him. "I love it when you touch me! E-even like this!!! Oh, God... More... More..." His eyes were starting to glaze and Othello's logic-braib took over again, dropping Angel back to the floor.

"Angel..." But even as he started to speak his words died. Angel was clawing at him, using Othello to get ack to his feet. Then the bigger boy wrapped arms around him... And Othello got a heady dose of fear, arousal and satisfaction from Angel's sweat. Othello didn't want to believe it, but he could tell Angel was telling the truth. He wanted Othello to be brutal, because he knew Othello wasn't cruel. Othello didn't know how he knew these things about Angel, but there was no doubt in his mind that he was correct.

He also understood that he wanted to dominate Angel just as badly as Angel wanted to submit. It was perfect, but made no sense. It was all inconcievible. Too good to be true...

"'Thello?" Angel whispered, "Please be something good for me... If you do, I know I can be something good for you, too...."

Othello growled, and it wasn't totally out of frustration either. "Fine, Callihan..." He pulled on angel's hair, putting space between them. "But understand," Othello said, touching his forehead to Angel's. The bigger boy's brow was warm. Angel shook in his grip. "When you had enough, walk away. If you can't walk, run. If you can't run, fight. Understand?"

"New rule?" Angel asked, reaching up, but not quite touching Othello.

Othello (and his Conquer-Beast) smiled. "Yeah. New Rule."

A sniffle behind him reminded him where he was. Norn was theatrically dabbing at her eyes, while Ames and J just smiled. Othello let Angel go and stood up.

"Angel?" Norn called. "What are you to Othello?"

Angel glanced up at Othello, but then down, blushing in embarrassment again. "I'm his slave?"

"Good boy." Norn said softly, "What then is Othello to you?"

"I guess he'd be... Umm... My Master?" Angel said, trying on the word.

"You hear that, Kaard?" Ames said. "You're his Master. Do you understand what that means?"

Othello shook his head. If he was being honest, the thought of "slavery" was immoral. He used the word trying to scare Angel away. But now, these people were tossing it around like a point of pride! Racial sensitivities aside, the thought of being treated as only property rankled him...

Of course... OWNING someone... Someone who's asking for it... That might be fun...

Othello shook himself, and fell into an internal argument; his modern morals versus the Conquer-Beast. It was a fight that he knew he was going to have to have a lot in the future. Philosophical, psychological, and primal arguments were raging between each side.

"Kaard." Norn's unexpected close proximity startled him. "Try not to over-think it. Take it one step at a time... And remember your duties in this relationship." She added, offering him the crop again.

"You mean his punishment..." Othello fingere the crop without taking it. Angel saw it and nearly pissed himself.

"Of course." Norn lilted, "He's done bad. He should be made to understand that. He needs to know that you're taking charge."

Othello smirked, petting Angel. He wanted to hit Angel more, but this time, he'd enjoy himself doing it. Maybe they both would. Still, he waved away the crop. "But not here."

Norn opened her mouth as if to argue, but stopped. "As you wish, Lord Kaard..."

The two men, who had been for the most part silent, stood. Ames knelt next to Othello and J crouched next to Angel. The two gently pried the boys apart.

"What is it?" Othello demanded, growing annoyed again.

"We still have a lot to discuss," Ames said, "About your soul-situation..."

"... Do you want him here for this?" J asked, both hands resting on Angel's shoulders.

"I want to be here!" Angel protested. "I want to know you... the real you, Othello... Or is it Kaard?"

"No." Othello said without hesitation. "No, you don't need to know everything about me right now."

"Teach him some manners, J," Norn said.

"Yes, Lady." J bowed his head, for a second.

"Ah, uh, S-Sir..." Angel jerkily imitated J before the two left together.

"When you said 'teach him some manners'..."

"Basic etiquette for a new slave. I promise." Norn nodded.

"He was acting strange..." Othello muttered. "Why?"

"A little trick. No, nothing magical." Norn said, smiling at the sharp way Othello glanced at her. "Simple suggestion technique. We needed to lower his inhibitions to make him honest."

Othello sat quiet, waiting for someone to say something. When they didn't, Othello's magnificently short attention span allowed his mind to wander. He dwelled on everything he'd learned and figured out, and started filling in some of the blanks himself.

"Why do you call me Kaard?" He asked softly.

"That is what They call you, my little love..." Norn said. But upon seeing the look on Othello's face, she went on. "It was your name in another life."

Her response seemed to surprise Ames. He looked up, wide-eyed, but it only lasted a moment before his features smoothed to a mask of indifference, ut he never looked away from Norn. Othello saw it, but went on as if he hadn't.

"Did They tell you that?" Othello muttered.

"They did."

"So you can see Them." He went on.

"With a simple spell."

"Prove it." Othello said, feeling his lip curl.

"Prove it?" Norn frowned. "You're doubting me pretty suddenly."

"There's a lot you're not telling me." Othello frowned. Information I can only seem to get from you."

Norn sort of smiled at him, but it didn't touch her eyes the way it usually did.

"If Ames knew my name was Kaard, he'd probably have a lot more to tell before we came here." Othello said, pondering the implications even as the words came out of his mouth. "He trusts me, or at least thinks I can handle more than you're giving me... But he's not the one I need approval from, is it? It's pretty clear you're pulling all of our strings." ...And I fucking hate it! He realized.

That brought chiming laughter from the woman. Ames remained stone-faced. Still, neither answered.

"I need to know." Othello felt a growl in the back of his throat. "I need to know that you're not just toying with me!"

"Oh, baby..." Norn said in a motherly way. "... Of course I'm toying with you!"

Othello was on his feet suddenly, as was Ames.

"Norn!" Ames snapped.

"What? I am!" She shrugged.

"You... You..." Othello was at a loss for words, and then he felt that prickle in the nose heralded tears. His vision blurred and started to fog. He felt himself plummet into despair. Every milisecond that passed saw him sinking deeper with increasing speed. His knees went weak and the world tipped. He was sinking toawrds the ground.

"S-Sir!" Othello heard the cry, but paid it no attention. He shook as arms wrapped around him and he felt himself anchored, the falling sensation stopped. "You- You cunt! What've you done you... you... If you hurt him, I'll..."

"Shut up." Othello said. Angel stopped talking. "You happy? Breaking a broken mind more make you feel good...?" "self-pity was quickly tainting the black, tarry dispair, making it viscous and briny, and something that Othello knew he'd never want to climb out of again if he didn't get a grip soon. Of course, Othello wasn't sure he wanted even that much.

"Kaard," when Othello glanced at her, she was giving him a steely look. "You can no longer afford to doubt yourself. The Spirits will capitalize on that, and will use that weakness to destroy you." She cupped his chin, and he jerked away from her touch, now thoroughly confused. "If I prove this to you, will you finally start believing in yourself, my young Lord?"

It was good she didn't wait for him to respond. He wasn't sure he even could. She stood up and pulled back a curtain, revealing a door marked "roof access". She gave one last glance to Othello, but then continued up the shadowy stairs, shedding her robes as she walked. Othello started pushing himself to his feet, embarrassed that he had to use Angel to keep steady. As soon as he was sure he could stand under his own power, he pushed away from Angel, keepimg physical contact with Angel's chest with his hands until the last possible second. He followed Norn up the stairs.

* * *

Once on the roof, it had taken only a moment for Norn to cast her Vision spell. Reality shuddered around her as a soft glow was sparked into life behind her eyes. Watching that shiver gave Othello a sense of fragility... like someone hitting a mirror, but not quite hard enough to break it. It seemed to have been done with only a thought. Othello was disappointed by the decided lack of ritual to it. And ultimately unimpressed because this spell was cast in vain: there were no spirits immediately present. Norn glanced around.

Othello did as well, but instead of looking for bogeys, he watched Ames cross himself in a catholic fashion and mutter a prayer that he couldn't catch but doing so achieved the same glow in his eyes, and J dabbed something on his eyes - actually touching the eye_balls!_ - to ignite his own faint glow. Neither Ames nor J made their proximity shiver, and yet Othello knew they'd achieved the same sort of results.

A small clap from Norn brought Othello's attention back to her. Several of her attendants responded, appearing from the entrance door, each carrying an incense pot of ornate, brightly polished bronze. Othello recognized the body of his whipping boy, but noted that the other attendants were similarly bulky. Each of these men wore a leather hood, the kind of disturbing, dehumanizing things hardcore kinksters wear. Some had zippers, some were stitched shut, one was mostly metal, looking like a cage, and one was utterly featureless, just smooth black leather. Angel shivered next to him.

The men placed a pot in each of the roof's corners, but even before they were finished Othello saw the effects of the exotic, malty-smelling potpourri: At first they were just little motes, like dust in the late afternoon sunlight, but they had their own internal glow. Othello could hear the soft echoes of far away music in each one that floated past his ear. He was glade that there was only a gentle dusting of them, or their combined music would be a deafening roar of noise.

But as he watched, larger ones began to arrive. More like tiny insects; now he could see a little more detail: a few flickered as they moved, becoming nearly invisible before burning brightly again for an instant, then clicking off again. Some simply moved in beat to their own music, these drew clusters of others around itself.

The next to arrive were the bubbles and ribbons that he'd seen the other night. Their music was cohesive, if unearthly, and with them they added laughter and cheering to the noise. It was like listening to a dance-club from outside its walls. Othello was starting to feel their effects again but resisted, biting back the ecstatic jubilation they were trying to force on him.

They didn't flock to him this time, and after Othello swallowed his fear of them, he wondered why that was. Then a thought occurred to him.

"Norn... Lady Norn..." He began in a cautious whisper. "If people can't see Them... Can They see us...?"

"Yes, they can." Her voice felt too loud, a bit like she'd just blown their hiding place. However, none of the spirits shifted or missed a beat. They continued to revel obliviously. "What they see, however, aren't individuals. If you see a line of ants, would you be able to pick out a special individual?"

"We're... Ants to them?" Othello watched them, with a cold lump forming in his throat.

"Mmm... Bad analogy..." Norn said after a moment's thougt.

"Look at it this way:" Ames interjected. "Do you see any one of them as an individual?"

Othello looked into the lights, but he couldn't really distinguish one as prettier, or describe anything special to make any one unique to its fellows.

"Hmm..." Othello's brows furrowed as he kept trying. At first, there was nothing more than twinking patterns and mad music... but then he started looking deeper at one. One that he noticed did more than shimmer and sing. It was a bubble, like so many others, except that there was an extra shimmer inside. Othello stepped towards it, disregarding the others entirely. He reached up for it and it danced away as if on a twirling breath of wind. Othello's brow furrowed even deeper in concentration.

"Come..." Othello muttered under his breath. He held out his hand to it. "Come on... Come..."

The bubble stopped, ans Othello had the distinct impression that it was looking at him, really looking at him. Othello remembered back to Lothario - good ol' Lothario... - who accused him of of looking through people... _I guess They look through people, too..._He tried again.

"Come here, now!" The force of his order surprised not only him, but seemed to be a party-stopper. All of the other spirits froze, the lights suspended.

"Stay focused, young Kaard..." Norn said in a clear voice. "Concentrate on the one you want..." It almost sounded like she was talking him off of a ledge. Othello swallowed a renewing fear and looked only at the shimmering bubble he wanted.

"Come. Sit in my hand." He said in a voice just as clear as Norn's. "I want to see you better."

The bauble, slowly at first, drifted over to him. It bypassed his hand and came to a stop a few inches in front of his nose. It was bigger than Othello had anticipated; it must have been further away than perceived. It was about as big around as a basketball. Othello peered inside it and saw a tiny, almost humanoid figure, made totally of light. It stared at him with eyes that sparkled even more brightly. Othello cupped both hands around it without touching it. The figure in the bubble suddenly shifted and changed, and suddenly, Othello was looking into just its mostly featureless face. No mouth, no eyes, no real skeletal structure, just two brightly sparkling points of light about where eyes would be.

Othello giggled, and he felt a genuine joy totally unlike anything They could make him feel. This sort of happiness was something that eluded him since he was a much younger child. He'd almost forgotten that They weren't all scary, and They weren't all trying to murder him. He remembered the joy he felt that came just from playing with them.

He leaned in and kissed the bubble. It gave a squeal and popped in a flash of light. Othello stumbled back in fright, and was surprised that he wasn't blinded. He fell backwards into Angel's waiting arms. Othello had never heard him arrive. He was back in his street clothes.

Othello looked up and saw that the bubble hadn't popped; it had blown up! It was now a cage of epilepsy-inducing light, and the figure inside was just a head shorter than himself and with enough detail now to be a decidedly masculine image. It danced ecstatically and the others all flocked around it, as if in celebration.

"'Thello?" Angel said in a near panic watered down only with disbelief. "What's happening? What IS that thing?!"

Othello looked at Angel, dumbfounded. How can you see THAT!?

"It's Manifested... He made it Manifest!?" Ames said, awestruck. He stared at the orb-dancer.

"Give it a name, little love..." Norn whispered urgently in his ear.

"A name?!" Othello looked at it. One came to his mind instantly. "A-Arcadia! I'll call it Arcadia!"

The bubble vibrated, and the figure inside stopped dancing and instead threw out its limbs. From where its chest should be, another light flared to life. It illuminated features that the creature never had. A mouth, muscled definition, glowing hair. It was starting to look more and more human! Then it was over. A male, humanoid form, composed entirely of light of different intensities stood before him. It smiled... and then fell to its knees!

"Mine Master..." It muttered in an androgynistically high voice. The voice vibrated brokenly, as if filtered through auto-tune.

Othello pushed away from Angel, who let go only reluctantly. He reached out and touched the bubble. It took Othello a moment to realized that and he jerked his hand away. Normally, They couldn't be touched! Why now? Othello touched it again, and he saw the figure inside shudder.

"Push... Harder... Enter... Me..." Though the plea was confusing but it got the Conquer-Beast's attention. Othello did push his hand forward, into the sphere. And it moaned. Othello realized then what he'd done. He wasn't touching the spirit's "cage" he was touching its SKIN! Othello pulled his hand out of the creature's membrane.

"Master. Wilt thou enter me?" The anticipation could be seen in softening patterns of the lights. When Othello shook his head, the lights' movements slowed. "As mine Master pleaseth..." It said sullenly.

"Norn...? What the hell happened...?" Othello asked, flexing his fingers. The skin of his hand tingled with static from touching Arcadia.

"My boy, you've just gained a Familiar." Norn said proudly.

"Familiar...?" Othello said breathlessly. "How?"

"You dominated it, blessed it, and named it." Ames said eyeing Othello in a less than friendly way.

"I said I wanted to see it. I tried to kiss it. I thought Arcadia was a good name for it!" Othello looked desperately from one Mage o the other. "Help me out here!"

"Simply put," Norn began, "this spiritual being has recognized a stronger one. That stronger being recognized the weaker as desirable. The weaker made itself into an offering, taking a form it hoped was more pleasing to the stronger, and the stronger accepted the offering by giving it a title."

Othello ran through the processes in his head, relating them to what just transpired. It all had happened so fast...

"Why can Angel see it now?" Othello gulped.

"Because the creature has Manifested, so it can better interact with you." Norn explained. "You've seen this sort of thing before, I presume? When they've attacked you in the past?"

Othello nodded. Not just when They attacked, but also when they played, or when Othello fed a few as a child. They could touch things then too... but afterward, they'd vanish.

"It takes a lot of energy to Manifest." Norn said, answering his half-answered question's. "When that energy is used up, They're transported back to Their Realm. So they do it only when it is sure to bring Them more of that energy."

"And where does this one plan to get it...?" Othello asked, dreading the answer.

"From you," Norn said with a smirk. "Of course."

Othello stumbled back into Angel, who held him jealously.

"Stop thinking like a human!" Norn said. "It need not take what you can easily spare."

"SPARE she says!" Othello barked out a laugh. He turned to the entity Arcadia, unknowingly with teeth bared. "My life is not something I can 'spare'! You can't have it!"

Arcadia gave a bizarre, buzzing, anguished howl before burning blindingly bright and vanishing, leaving Othello dazzled.

Othello tried to blink the spots from his eyes before he realized that they were the other spirits. They didn't dance or sing now, now they drifted like dead fish in a tank. After the brightness of Arcadia, the early night sky seemed inky, but Othello could see that these lesser spirits were dimmed, and that there were far fewer of them than there had been a second before.

"Oh dear..." Norn spoke as if she'd just watched a child accidentally break something. She continued her matronly manner as she bustled through the door again. "I'll go find it! No one worry! No one move!"

"Bitch!" When Othello had muttered it, Angel had barked it. The boys turned to each other and Angel even dared a smile. Othello stood and walked around the roof for a moment until he saw the fire-escape to the entrance. He hopped over the ledge and began to descend. Angel was just behind him. They shoved their way through the early-bird patrons and reached the parking lot.

"And where are you two going?" Ames said, somehow standing in the parking lot already.

"Home!" Othello snapped.

"How?" Ames asked.

"We can hitch a ride." Angel suggested.

"Ain't that a little dangerous?"

"Clearly not as risky as waiting around here!" Othello pushed past his teacher and started scanning for cars trying to leave. He immediately noted that, this early, the crowd was only just arriving, so the chances of finding what he was looking for right now was slim.

"Hey..." Ames called. When the two ignored him he tried louder. "Hey! Cut that out! I'll get you a ride home!"

Othello stopped and looked at Ames. Angel reached over and gripped Othello's hand and squeezed.

"I'm sick of this, Ames! All of it!" Othello said.

"I know. Trust me, I know. Things got out of hand tonight,"Ames said softly. "But, don't walk away from this without taking away some important lessons."

"She tried to feed me to a laser-show!" Othello screamed, panic nd anger mixing into a volatile molotov.

"No, I promise you, she did not." Ames stated.

"Take. Me. Home!" Othello demanded.

Ames sighed and produced a cell phone. He speed-dialed and was soon ordering J to bring the car 'round. J appeared with Ames' jeep in less than a minute. And none too soon. Othello was starting to feel vulnerable out in the open.

As they got into the car, Angel tried to put together all that had just happened. But he couldn't. He just knew that Othello was freaking out. He placed hands on his Man's shhoulders and felt him shake. It made Angel queasy to see him like this. If Othello was scared, then shouldn't he be too? Angel wrapped arms around the shorter boy in an attempt to stop his shakes. When Othello stilled, a sense of accomplishment calmed his own heart.

"Angel..." J started quietly. "You okay, son?"

"Dunno." Angel said, putting on his tough guy act.

"You've learned a lot today." Ames said. "About yourself and about Mr. Montague, here. Do you still want to be with him?"

Angel looked down and saw that Othello was asleep. He felt free to answer candidly.

"I'll save him." Angel muttered quietly. Then he glared at the twop men and spoke up: "I'll protect him! From you, from Them, from whoever I gotta! No one hurts my Man!"

"If you mean that," J began, "then you must understand. Othello is more than human. He can't escape his fate. At some point, soon, the Othello you're holding will be no more. He will either die, or become something grand--"

"He already is!" Angel snarled. It was starting to creep him out, the way they were talking about him...

"Of course he is... but he's becoming even grander." Ames said. "He's about to step into a world that was never meant for you."

"Not alone... I can't let him do it alone. Stop trying to change my mind goddamit!" It's starting to work!! Angel squeezed Othello tight.

"Alright. Serve your Man well... Protect him. We need him." J said softly.

"Fuck you..." Angel growled. How dare they! Who are they to need Othello... After scaring him like that...

* * *

Othello felt himself shaken awake. He opened his eyes and found himself looking into Angel's.

"Hey..." Othello said wearily.

"Yo." Angel snickered.

It took a moment for Othello to realize that he was being carried bridal-style in Angel's arms. He swung a leg, breaking Angel's grip and stepped on to the grass in his front yard. He looked around just in time to see the jeep leave.

Othello turned and a few seconds later was entering the house. "I'm home!" He called. Angel followed Othello to his room, hauling both of their things through the hall. They passed Vee and Harc and Hero but didn't stop to chat. Soon They were behind Othello's locked door.

Just as Othello was getting settled, there was a knock on the door. "Othello?" His moogie called through the door. "We're going out to eat, are you coming with?"

"No, ma." Othello replied. "We ate already." That, of course, was a lie. One he promptly regretted.

"You went out? To eat. With your boyfriend?" His mother said. "Do you not understand the meaning of the word 'grounded'?"

"I'm too old to ground, moogie!" Othello called.

"Not for another month you're not!" Officer Montague called back. "Angel! Go home."

"Ma!"

"Now."

Angel put a hand on Othello's shoulder. "I won't go far. I'll come back, after they leave."

Othello raised an eyebrow at Angel, impressed yet again. "Good thinking..."

Othello and his mother continued to argue while the rest of the Montagues pulled on coats and caps. Angel watched them all, but noticed that Lothario was sitting on the couch. In his undies. Angel's face felt a touch warmer. Montagues sure aren't shy about their bodies, are they...?

"Rio." Angel said, sitting in the room's recliner. "You're not going out too?" Angel's heart sank.

"Nope. I'm grounded, too..." Rio said pouting, but then he leaned forward. "I'll make you a deal, though: Distract Tell after they leave, then I'll let you two have the house all to yourself."

Angel nodded, but then grinned, relieved. "Deal!"

Angel made his escape just as Officer Montague finished subduing her son. She gave a warning glance to her third eldest before ushering her younger children through the door.

Watching from a short ways up the street, tucked out of sight, Angel watched the group leave. He quickly finished his cigarette as he walked. Soon he was back at the front door just in time to meet Rio as he was sneaking out. He stopped Rio with a hand on the younger Montague's shoulder.

"Why are you doing this...?" Angel asked. It was all too perfect. He knew Rio hated him. Why would he leave them alone together?

Rio thumbed his nose and shifted in his sneakers. "Look. I got my own blonde-bombshell to tend to. I'm using you to keep my brother off my back, so don't fuck this up!" With that, he was opening the garage and a minute after that, he was driving off in a blue Honda.

Angel, left without a chance to question his good fortune further. Once inside, he heard the shower running. Angel received a brief vision of himself joining Othello... But found he just didn't have the stones. Instead he opted to wait outside the door, and his mind settled on what he'd learned. He couldn't comprehend most of it, and he wasn't sure he could take any of what was said literally at all. "Master and slave"....

"Souls"....

And what was that thing, that "Familiar"? Nothing familiar about that thing!!

What did any of it mean? How did Othello - his man - fit into it? How would Angel?

He didn't know how long he spent trying to make shit make sense... But then he heard the shower stop and the curtain drawn. With sweaty palms, he reached for the doorknob...

* * *

The water was renewing, and the searing temperatures he set it to scoured the negativity from his skin. Old fears, congealed despair, and the frosty remains of what was once panic all sloughed off like mud. He rinsed it all away in the pain of too hot water.

Just as his every nerve was starting to scream in pain, Othello added some cool water. As the spray became comfortable, Othello felt entirely refreshed. His skin was sore enough that he started to wonder what constituted a first-degree burn. He felt raw enough that every caress of the flowing water was distracting, and even the soap felt a little harsher. He washed quickly, remembering to scrub out his beard. Then he stepped out and wrapped himself in a towel before he opened the door.

There stood Angel. He just stood over Othello, staring. Othello watched, but Angel was unresponsive. He was getting redder by the second. Then he slowly reached up and slowly started to stroke the water from his beard, gently starting to wring it dry. He twisted it in his fingers carefully. It felt good, better than he'd expected. Othello sighed, purring before he could stop himself. Angel started to lean in, whimpering softly.

Othello considered giving in to him, in to Angel's needs, his own... But he couldn't give up that control.

Angel's lips were an inch away from his own. He could smell the tobacco smoke on Angel's breath. Just as their lips brushed each other, Othello snapped: "Braid it."

It was loud enough to ruin the moment. Angel leaned back, going even more flushed. His shaky fingers started to work. Angel finished his task quickly and when Othello looked in the fogged-over mirror, he was impressed by the straight, evenly done braid. "When did you learn to braid hair...?"

"Ah... Yeah..." Angel stammered. "I braid my little sister's hair sometimes..."

"Ew." Othello grimaced. "What are you, their man-servant...?" He watched Angel in the mirror.

"Yeah... Kinda..." Angel looked down and fidgeted. "Can I stay here, again...?"

"Will you be MY man-servant, instead?" Othello asked. He turned and leaned on the sink and folded his arms over his chest. He stared at Angel, wondering how'd he react. Stumping him with this question made him smirk. He stroked the beard, liking the feel of it sliding over his fingers.

Angel stared, this time in surprise. Then he gulped. "What would I-I have ta do?"

My god, he's actually considering this! Othello's smirk widened. He stroked his beard again. "This is enough... For tonight." Othello's Conquer-Beast added the last bit. Best to leave it open-ended, it growled. "I have homework. Stay in my room and stay quiet. Understand?"

"Yes..." Angel nodded happily.

"'Yes' what, Angel?"

Angel gulped again. "Yes... S-Sir..."

And there it was; the connection was in place. Angel was his again. Othello smirked and brushed past him.

* * *

Othello worked on his studies and Angel was obediently quiet at first. But then, after Othello put away his school things and had begun his "mythic-studies", Angel spoke up.

"'Thello?" Angel yawned. "It's so late.... Come, er... come lie down, okay?"

Othello glanced at his alarm clock: 2 A.M...

He pushed away from his desk and stood, still in just his towel. He'd forgotten he was wearing it. It didn't bother him that he was almost naked in front of Angel, so he paid it no mind as he slipped into bed, between Angel and the wall.

Angel noticed, though. He stiffened in every sense as he rolled onto his belly. Othello rested his head between Angel's shoulder blades and felt the tension there. He began combing fingers through his curls. It relaxed him last time.

"'Thello..." Angel said as it started to work. "Will you go out with me...?"

It was Othello's turn to freeze. He considered his answer for a moment. "I don't know that I CAN go out... Besides, you're already my slave--"

"Don't give me that, man... Yes, or no..." Angel pressed.

Othello propped himself up to look down at Angel. "And where are you getting all this courage?" He asked. "I'd never expect to be asked out by you, of all people."

"I figured something out." Angel answered. "You're strong... Really, really strong. On the inside, I mean. You see those things and still try to act normal! I hope... Maybe if I stay near you, it'll make me strong too... And... And you're hot. I want you. So please, go out with me?"

Othello almost laughed. "I have so much going on right now, and most of it you'll never understand..."

"Please. Yes, or no?" Angel's pleas were turning into whimpers.

Poor thing... this question's eating him up... "Alright," Othello said. "I'll go out with you as long as you can stomach it."

Angel rolled onto his back and sat up, forcing Othello to do the same.

The two stared at each other through the near-dark. Neither of them moved, not wanting damage the moment with any sudden moves.

Finally Angel spoke: "Othello... Please put some clothes on. I can't think with you all... naked like that..."

"Then don't think..." Othello smirked again and propped up on hands and knees. He crawled forward, startling Angel into falling backwards. "... just do as I say."

A fine balance of terror and excitement mixed in Angel's eyes, and both boys knew that Angel would obey Othello, no matter what was asked.

"Are you nervous because I'm naked?" Othello rested his forehead on Angel's. Angel nodded. "So then strip down. Then we'll both be naked..."

Angel didn't answer, but Othello felt him shunt out of his clothes. Soon, Othello was laying over him, skin to skin.

Angel had a fine coat of soft hair on his chest and belly. Othello, by comparison was naturally smooth. Angel's bulk was soft, but there was muscle underneath. The sensation of chest to chest contact was sweet and intoxicating. Angel spread his legs and Othello felt his heat warming his own crotch as he slid in to fill the space. Othello pressed his hips forward and pressed himself against Angel's balls.

"Feels good... Right, Angel...?" Othello purred. Angel was far more aroused than Othello, but Othello was eagerly catching up. Soon Othello was rubbing his full nine inches along Angel's fat six.

"Good... feels... so good..." Angel was at a loss. This was HAPPENING! He had so many visions and fantasies of how his first time with another guy would go, but he couldn't remember any of them! He was too caught up in disbelief of this to resist any part of it!

"That's right, Angel... I'm in control. Your Top-Man is in control, so just do as I say... Okay?" Othello cooed.

"Yes... My... M-my Top-Man..." Angel simpered. His body responded on its own, humping back at his new Top-Man. His brain was shut off, and all he could do was feel and comply.

Othello lay his head on Angel's shoulder and breathed him in. It all came so naturally! Angel was his, mind and body! Every part of Othello loved Angel just then. Treasured him like Angel was only an extension of himself. Soon, it wasn't enough to just smell and touch his skin; Othello needed to taste and hear him too. He bit into Angel's shoulder, just where it became neck.

Angel yelped and tensed, but then began moaning lewdly as Othello maintained his grip. Othello felt Angel's whole body swell and heave as it tried to process these wild new sensations. Just as it looked like he might be coming down, Othello began to suck and lick the flesh clamped between his teeth, sending Angel into a fresh fit of ecstatic mewling.

"'Thello! 'Thello, Oh my god, stop! I can't... I can't take it!... St-stop!" But Angel didn't push him away. Othello let him go and smiled down at his pet bully. His cheeks were flushed and those blue eyes were glassy. His bountiful pecs heaved with every breath. Othello leaned in and nuzzled Angel's cheek before biting in to the right side of his neck, repeating the process and driving Angel wild. "N-No! Not th-that!" Angel writhed against Othello.

Othello finally let him go and admired his handiwork: twin hickeys settled just above each collar-bone.

Angel stared back and saw the gleam in Othello's eyes. It looked a lot like that same sadistic glee of victory from his fight with Eli. "I can do anything I want to you, Angel," Those eyes told him, "I can hurt, humiliate, and destroy you... And you beg me to do it, relish every second..." And Angel knew they were right.

Angel wanted this, wanted Othello, no matter how Othello wanted him. Othello could do anything, just so long as Angel got two things in return: "Fuck... Me..."

Othello froze. Angel, ashamed of what he'd just said, threw his arms up over his face, trying to hide hrom the man on top of him.

Othello tugged at the arms, but shame won out. Angel couldn't face him.

Othello gave up after a bit, and watched Angel quiver under him. "Angel... Do you want me to?"

Angel just whimpered, unable to summon actual words, but Othello understood:

"You want me to, but you don't want to WANT me to..." Othello smirked, but he felt sorry for Angel. "It's okay... I'll rape you. It won't be your fault, okay?"

One blue eye peeked from behind the barrier and Angel gave the barest of nods.

Othello sat up, exposing Angel's burly body. The crevice between his pecs was sculpted and deep, but so was the crease between them and his rounded tummy. Angel was growing into a beautiful blonde bear, and Othello found himself feeling very, very lucky.

He lifted Angel's legs and took in the view of a pale, ample ass. The cheeks were as meaty as the rest of him, but Othello could still see a pink, puckering hole glistening in the lamp-light. He touched it, and found it wet.

Huh... He thought. Guys do get wet down there...

Angel shuddered and moaned at the touch. He'd gone back to hiding behind his arms. His anal muscles flexed invitingly at the brush of fingertips.

Othello slowly slipped one finger in. Every bit that slid in formed angel's lips into more of an O-shape. He shivered hard and the hole sucked at Othello's finger.

"Well, I'll be!" Othello purred. "You finger yourself..."

Angel gritted his teeth and didn't respond.

"How many have you gotten in?" Othello curled the finger and stroked at Angel's insides, making him whine. "Answer, or I'm stopping."

"T-two!" Angel gasped out. "Three h-hurts..."

"Really, now...?" Othello added a second finger and shoved it in deep.

Angel gasped and gritted his teeth, biting back louder noises.

Othello felt something throb against his fingertips, and softly clawed back at it. That sent Angel moaning with with a lot less reservation. Othello found his spot!

Othello slipped in a third, and Angel's reactions changed. He gave a long, high whine and tensed. "'Th-Thelloooo..."

"I know, baby... I know..." Othello cooed. "But you're tough, baby... you can take it... Right?"

Angel, panting out pained breaths, nodded. "For you... For mt Top-Man..."

"Good! GOOD boy!" Othello cheered softly. "I'll reward you now..."

He used all three fingers to massage and probe Angel's G-spot. Angel ate up every single drop of that electricity. Pain and pleasure, it was making him very, very high. High enough that he asked again: "Fuuuck me..."

"Okay, baby," Othello smiled. "I'm going to fuck you now..." He pulled out the fingers, leaving angel feeling hollow for a few moments, but then rubbed the tip of his cock against the now red, slightly swollen, slightly gaping entrance.

Angel stopped breathing, waiting, anticipation building, but Othello hesitated.

"You want me, baby boy? Need me inside?" Othello whispered in the near-silence.

"I need it, Top-Man!" Angel gasped quietly. "I need it. From you!"

There was no resisting a plea like that. The Conquer-Beast roared triumphantly in Othello's head as Othello pushed forward, burrowing himself into Angel's ass. He sunk in about half way on the first thrust, but then pushed and ground all nine inches into Angel.

Angel started to cry out after about the sixth. "T-too big! Take it out! It's too m-much!"

"Oh? But your body wants more... Feel how your ass swallows my meat, Callihan?" The Conquer-Beast taunted. "This is what giving yourself to me means, Angel!"

Othello began to thrust, riding Angel's ass and high, taking care to use his G-spot. Angel cried out loudly, still hiding his face. His chute milked at Othello's cock, gripping whenever he drew back. Othello moaned and gripped one of angel's nipples, pulling and twisting it in his fingers.

"'Thello! 'Thello, you gotta st-stop!!!" the cry was so vehement, that Othello actually thought maybe he should, but then: "You'll m-make me cum!!!"

Othello grinned the Conquer-Beast's fangy grin and rode Angel harder, faster. Angel's arms fell away and he gripped his swollen, knobby head. He appeared to try to stymie the flow of cum that erupted from him a moment later. He threw his head back as he was swept away by tide after tide of orgasmic, thought-obliterating, bliss.

Angell came from the inside, too, gripping hard with each shot of cum. Dragging Othello into the surge with him. Othello loosed a roar, so much more, and so much less than human as he dumped his own load into Angel.

When Othello had collected himself, he looked down at Angel. Angel looked back up at him, panting, eyes watering.

"Othello..."Angel croaked hoarsely, "Let me be yours..."

"Oh, sweetness..." Othello collapsed over him, truly and deeply exhausted. "...Be careful what you wish for..."

The two fell asleep, in each other's arms. Neither able remember his worries. Worries that each would never willingly share with the other.

Worries that neither knew would try to drag them apart later that very day.