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Chapter Text

Kalim paced relentlessly, heart racing.  If he couldn’t figure this out, if he couldn’t prove he was adaptable, if he couldn’t prove he could work with people so different from himself…  He was the heir; he had to figure this out.  His father was on a business trip; he was depending on Kalim to get this right.

“These people are so difficult,” Kalim whined.  “Why can’t they just meet me in the middle?”

Jamil laughed, bustling about the room, picking up after Kalim even though the room was already fairly clean.  “That’s rather uncharitable of you.  They’re really getting to you this badly?”

“They aren’t reacting the way they’re supposed to.”  Kalim threw himself backward onto his bed, sprawling out gracelessly.  “I was so sure I’d figured out what they wanted, but it’s like everything I say is the wrong thing.  We practiced for days!  This isn’t how it was supposed to go.”

“No,” Jamil acknowledged.  He touched his chin, eyes going distant as he thought deeply.  “They’ve so far proven immune to your usual charms.  It’s almost like they’re making it difficult for you on purpose.”

Kalim lifted up on one arm, watching Jamil as he continued tidying the room, mulling over the events of the evening.  They’d been cold to Kalim, no matter what he said or did, but Jamil hadn’t had the same reception.  The points he made, even through Kalim, had gone over perfectly well.

Jamil always knew just how to make people do what he wanted.  Why was it so hard for Kalim to do the same?  He was meant to be his father’s heir, but if he couldn’t figure out how to make business deals without him, how was he supposed to take over when he retired?

It wasn’t like he could ask Jamil to inherit for him.  His father would never allow a servant, not even Jamil, to serve as his heir.  No matter how much easier it would be.

Kalim closed his eyes and tapped out an aimless rhythm on the bedspread.  If he were allowed to claim Jamil as his partner, if they could openly work together, this sort of thing wouldn’t be so difficult.  People who were suspicious and untrusting almost always preferred to work with Jamil; Kalim didn’t mind handing the reins over and letting Jamil take the lead with those negotiaitions.

Maybe this was why his father was constantly on his case about getting married.  Having a partner who was naturally suspicious of others would always make it easier for Kalim to handle people who weren’t willing to trust his good intentions.  If his father would let him marry Jamil…  But Kalim needed to be realistic.

Surely there was another way over this hurdle.  Even when his father left things in place as a test, there was always a way for Kalim to figure out a way through.  Or maybe… around?  He might not be allowed to let Jamil take point when he was clearly better suited to the task, but if he could just find another way to channel Jamil, they would be…

Channel Jamil?

“Ah!”

Jamil startled, mage pen out and searching the room for threats instantly.  “Kalim?”

“No, sorry, I’m fine, but!  If I channel you!”  Kalim sat back up, bouncing once and pointing at Jamil.  “They’ll definitely listen, right?  They liked your way of doing things, so I just need to be more like you!”

Jamil’s shoulders dropped back down, even as he gave the room one last check.  “Sure, I guess.  But how exactly are you going to be more like me?”  He rolled his eyes like the very idea was foolishness itself, but Kalim knew he was on to something here.

“That’s the thing!  Remember in school, that winter you overblotted?” Kalim asked.  Maybe if they got through the unpleasant part quickly, Jamil wouldn’t be too mad Kalim was bringing it up.

Jamil winced, lip pulling to one side.  “I try not to.”

“No, no, see, I only fought your magic then because we were making people upset!  This time, you’d barely need to do anything, since I want you to do it, right?  I’d be cooperating.”  Kalim beamed.  “I want you to hypnotize me and then control my every move.  Just for the negotiations!  You could do it, right?”

Jamil’s brow furrowed, and he turned away, thumb touching his lip again.  “I see.  You want…  That would use less magic, and it would be less risky than… but you…”  He turned back around.  “Are you sure?  You’re basically asking me to stand in for you for the duration.  What if you change your mind?”

“I won’t.”  Kalim bounced and hopped to his feet.  “Isn’t it brilliant?  If it’s you, I’m sure the negotiations will run perfectly!  You understand how to communicate with these people much better than I do, and this way, you’ll have total control over the proceedings from start to finish.”

Jamil crossed his arms and began to pace.  He tapped at his arm, like he was jittery.  Kalim couldn’t tell if it was nerves or excitement, but he suspected it was the latter.  “Kalim, this is crazy, even for you.  Do you have any idea what you’re asking me to do to you?”

Kalim rolled his eyes.  “Like you’ve never used your magic on me again since then.  I know you still use it sometimes to nudge me into doing the things you think are best for me.”

Jamil blanched.  “What?”

It wasn’t anywhere near as often as it used to be.  Honestly, Kalim missed it sometimes.  Jamil was always looking out for him, and nothing ever made it more clear than feeling his control tugging him toward doing whatever Jamil thought was best.  And because it was Jamil, it usually was the right call anyway.  The hypnosis just moved things along a little faster.

Kalim waved off Jamil’s concerns with an easy laugh.  “It’s okay, Jamil!  It’s you, so it’s fine.  You’d never make me do something that would hurt me.”

Jamil covered his face with both hands.  “Gods help me.  Your self-preservation instincts, or rather, your lack of self preservation instincts…”

“Which is exactly why I trust you!  With that and with this.”  Kalim closed the distance between them and pulled Jamil’s hands away from his eyes, holding them both between his own.  “Please, Jamil?  Will you at least think about it?  I really think this might work, and we’ve already tried everything else.”

Jamil’s scowl wavered as he met Kalim’s eyes.  He sighed, turning to the side.  “I never can say no to you, can I?”  He took one of his hands back to pinch the bridge of his nose.  “Okay, fine, but we’re doing this my way if we’re doing this at all.  I’ll put you under in the mornings, and I’ll release you in the evenings.”  His foot tapped restlessly.  “I’ll see if I can make it so you remember what’s happening while you’re under my control.  It would be best you don’t forget what happens during our meetings.”

“Yes!” Kalim cheered.  “This is going to work perfectly, Jamil.  You’ll see!  If we work together, there’s nothing we can’t do, I’m sure of it!”

Jamil shook his head.  “For now, get some sleep.  I want you well rested for tomorrow.”

“Don’t stay up too late either,” Kalim countered.  “You need plenty of rest to keep blot from accumulating, right?”

Jamil laughed softly.  “Right.”  He shook his head and squeezed his hand once before letting go.  “I’ll see you in the morning, Kalim.”

Kalim woke earlier than usual, surprised to see Jamil already in his quarters.  “Jamil?”

“I thought we should get you settled early, make sure everything works the way we want it to,” Jamil said, spinning his pen so the light flashed red off its gem.  Kalim’s eyes followed the movement.  “I want to set my instructions to a trigger phrase so we don’t need to rush in the mornings.”

Kalim yawned and sat up.  “Okay.  What do I need to do?”

Jamil smiled, slow and dangerous, every inch the snake.  Kalim settled back against his headboard, blinking slower as he approached.  Jamil would take care of everything.  Jamil always took care of everything.

“Just look into my eyes.”  Jamil sat down beside him, his dark eyes all Kalim could see, all he could focus on.  This early in the morning, Jamil smelled of the incense he used in his bedroom, a smell Kalim had always entirely associated with Jamil.  “That’s it, Kalim.  Relax.  The one reflected in your eyes is your master.”

Everything turned warm and hazy, magic blanketing him.  Kalim sighed.  Already his vision was losing focus.  “Answer when asked.”  Jamil’s voice curled around him, twining around each limb, one by one, before weaving through his mind.  “Bow your head when commanded.  Snake Whisper.”

Kalim lost track of time, floating there, cradled in Jamil’s power.  Jamil must have been giving orders, and Kalim was sure he was responding, but none of it held any urgency or any deeper meaning.  Jamil would protect him.  Jamil would take care of him.

“Can you hear me, Kalim?” he asked softly, a hand cupping Kalim’s cheek.

“Yes, Master.”

Jamil smiled, a sadistic glint in his eyes.  “Only in private, remember.  When we leave this room, you are to call me Jamil.  Aside from your instructions, I want you to behave as you normally do.”

“Yes, Master.”  Kalim normally didn’t remember this much.  It felt familiar, well worn, like he’d done this hundreds of times, but the lack of corresponding memory felt disorienting, disjointed.  “As you command.”

His memory couldn’t be trusted, but Jamil would know.  Jamil would remember for him.

Jamil stroked a hand over his head, running fingers through his hair.  “Don’t forget, Kalim.  I want you to remember this time.  Remember what we accomplish, and remember what I make you do.  I want you to remember that you asked me for this.”

When it felt this good, how could he forget?

“Yes, Master.”

Kalim wanted to lean into his touch, wanted to tell Jamil that this was exactly what he wanted, what he’d always wanted, but he couldn’t move, and he couldn’t speak for himself.

All he could do was trust Jamil.

Chapter Text

“I release you.”

Kalim stumbled, blinking hard as the world rushed back into clarity.  For a dizzying moment, he missed the peace of Jamil’s control, but he shook that off.  “Oh.  Hi, Jamil.”  He looked up, surprised by the arm around his waist.  “Was I falling?”

“A little.”  Jamil frowned.  “Come sit down.  We have a little time before we need to return for dinner.”

Kalim went easily, sitting down on the edge of his bed.  He could remember most of the day, but it was murky, almost like a particularly vivid dream.  “Did it work?  I can remember chunks, but it’s a bit muffled.”

“Muffled?”  Jamil hummed.  “It shouldn’t be.  I’ll work on that tomorrow morning.  Aside from that, yes, it went very well.  They listened to our arguments, and they did seem more receptive.  They also didn’t suspect anything, nor did the staff.  You spoke very much like your usual self, so I doubt anyone but me could have noticed a difference.”

Kalim beamed.  “See?  I told you this was a great idea!”

Jamil rolled his eyes.  “Sure, sure.  Now how are you feeling?  That’s the longest I’ve kept you under before; usually my control breaks long before now.  You’re not in any pain?”

“No, not at all.”  Kalim felt a little warm, but not feverishly so.  Not unlike how he usually felt when Jamil was particularly cool around him.  “Honestly, I feel good, even.”

“Good?  Why?”

Kalim shrugged.  “I guess you’ve never felt your own power before.  When you’re not fighting it, it feels nice.  Like taking a long nap, although normally I don’t remember this much, so it’s a little different.”

“You’re telling me I let you nap all day while I did all the work and took care of everything?” Jamil drawled, unimpressed.

“Sorry?”  Kalim laughed.  “If you want, when this is over, you could always use your power another day to put me to work for you.  Then you could take a nap too.”

“Tempting as that is, I’ll have to decline.”  Jamil sighed.  “You’re really feeling all right?”

“Really really.”  Kalim tipped his head to one side.  “Why?”

“You look flushed, but I guess it’s nothing.”  Jamil rolled his shoulders.  “Unless you have any questions about today, we should probably get to dinner.  I’ll signal you if you’re about to misstep, but we left them in a good mood, so I think they’ll be more responsive tonight.”

“Okay.  Should I change?  I don’t remember what excuse we gave for my coming back to my rooms,” Kalim admitted.

Jamil smiled.  “Yes, let’s change you into something a little less formal for dinner.  They might be interested in dancing.”

Kalim grinned.  “Will you dance with me if they are?”

“I’m much too busy, you know that.”  Jamil rolled his eyes before he stepped away to pick out Kalim’s change of clothes.

Kalim watched him and stifled his sigh.  “Yeah, but still.  If I don’t check periodically, I’ll miss the day you’re not too busy to join me for a dance.”

“Sure, Kalim.”  Jamil gave his new outfit a little shake.  “Let’s get you changed.”

Kalim obeyed, letting the familiar routine wash over him.  He would need to stay focused for a little longer, and then he could actually process the rest of the day.

Jamil’s words coming out of his throat, his mouth, so smoothly that Kalim could still feel the echo of them even now.  He held his throat lightly while Jamil fixed his headband for him, hiding the motion behind readjusting his necklace and shuddering to his toes.

When he realized what he was doing, the effect it was having on him, Kalim shook himself before Jamil could notice.  Feelings like that were inappropriate.  He couldn’t—wouldn’t give them any of his attention.  Besides, he still had a dinner to host.

“Kalim?” Jamil’s hand curled around his shoulder, warm and firm.  “It’s time to get up.”

Kalim yawned.  “Jamil?  Good morning.”  He gave him a sleepy smile.  “Should I get dressed first, or…”  He trailed off as his eyes caught Jamil’s, dark and captivating.  His thoughts began to quiet.

“Do you want to?”  Jamil leaned down, the scent of his incense wafting over Kalim.  There was something almost mean in his expression, but it only made Kalim’s heart race.  “It doesn’t seem like you do, though.  It seems like you want me to get started first.”

Kalim bit his lip.  “Does it?” he asked breathlessly.  For some reason, it was a struggle even to keep his eyes open.

“I haven’t started yet,” Jamil taunted, voice low and intimate between them.  “You could always look away.  You look like I’d barely need magic at all for you to fold for me.  Look away, Kalim, or I’m going to take advantage.”

Kalim could, but he knew he wouldn’t.  He’d never managed it before.  Not when Jamil’s eyes were so arresting.  Not when he wanted to feel the warm embrace of Jamil’s magic again.

Jamil’s hand tightened on his shoulder.  “You’re playing a dangerous game, Kalim.”  Kalim opened his mouth, about to protest that Jamil was perfectly safe, that he was exactly where he wanted to be, when Jamil continued, “The one reflected in your eyes is your master.”

Kalim slumped with a soft sigh, eyes falling shut as the rest of Jamil’s spell washed over him, warm and sweet and addictive.

“Wake up, puppet,” Jamil cooed.

“Yes, Master.”

“You remember your orders from yesterday?”  Jamil stroked a hand over his head, tugging lightly at a longer strand of hair.

“Yes, Master.”  Kalim wanted to lean into his hand, wanted to ask why he was more affectionate when Kalim was under his control, but he couldn’t move and couldn’t speak freely.  “I remember.”

“Good puppet.”  Jamil tilted Kalim’s face up by his chin.  “You fall into this so easily,” he murmured, “like you’re meant to be controlled.  I wonder why.”

Because it’s you, Kalim wanted to say.  Because I trust you.  Because I like to be under your control.

“Well, no matter.  No rest for the wicked.  Come along.  We have a long day ahead of us, and no time to dawdle, and today, you’re going to remember it even better than you did yesterday.”  Jamil stood, and Kalim followed him.  He was always surprised by how smooth his own movements felt, even without his will behind them.

Jamil made Kalim’s hands strip himself, slow and clumsy, clumsier than Jamil certainly.  Jamil stood behind him, perpetually in his blindspot.

“Unfortunately, we don’t quite have the time to linger like this,” Jamil murmured, a strange note to his voice.  “Too bad.  Hold still for me.”

Jamil’s hands were sure and certain where they stripped him of his pajamas.  He dressed him efficiently, his expression focused but detached, like he was handling an object and not Kalim’s body.  If he wasn’t already under his spell, Kalim thought being treated like he was no more or less than Jamil’s doll might have pushed him over the edge on its own.

“There.”  Jamil turned him around with a critical eye and then nodded.  “Perfect.  Now, let’s get you to breakfast, hm, puppet?”

“Yes, Master.”

Jamil smiled, eyes fathomless.  “Be good, and I might even make your favorite dessert tonight.”

Kalim wanted to perk up or thank him, remind him that his behavior was up to Jamil, ask him if he intended for Kalim to be good for him or not, but all he said was, of course, “Yes, Master.”

“I release you.”  Jamil caught Kalim when he stumbled, steadying him easily.  “There now, sit down.”

“Hi, Jamil,” Kalim said.  He felt warm all over, but this time, his memory of the day was crystal clear.  He could remember every press of Jamil’s control, every word not his own, every encouraging nudge urging him forward.

“Hello, Kalim.  How are you feeling?  Any pain?”  Jamil took him by the chin and turned his head to either side, peering into his eyes as if looking for signs of injury or strain.

“No pain.”  Even just coming back up, Jamil’s eyes felt dangerously compelling, like if Kalim looked for too long, he might fall back in.  “And I remember everything this time.  Whatever you changed this morning really worked.”

“Good, good.”  Jamil pressed his chin back so Kalim’s face was tilted toward the ceiling.  “There don’t seem to be any ill effects, but we’ll have to see how things develop long term.  Aside from when I overblotted, I’ve never used my power like this before.”

Kalim swallowed thickly.  He could pull away, he could move, but somehow, being manhandled like this, he felt more like Jamil’s doll than before.  “It can be an experiment!” he chirped to cover up how flustered he was getting.

Jamil laughed under his breath.  “Sure,” he agreed.  “The lingering effects of long-term hypnosis on one Kalim al-Asim.”

Kalim laughed, but it came out a little breathless.  “So far I don’t feel any different.”

“Tell me if you do.”  Jamil released his chin and stepped away; Kalim wished he’d stay closer.

“Did you have fun today?” Kalim asked.

Jamil rifled through his wardrobe for a change of clothes for dinner.  “Fun?”  He shot him a puzzled look over his shoulder.  “We were working.”

Kalim shrugged.  “It’s fun getting to use your Unique Magic though, right?”

Kalim still remembered how great it felt to use his Unique Magic during the overblot incident, how wonderful it felt for Azul to call it useful.  Since moving back home, he hadn’t been offered any similar opportunities.

His father didn’t find it nearly so useful.

“And I know you like being totally in charge of things like this,” Kalim continued.  Totally in charge of me, he didn’t say.

Jamil looked away, thumb pressed beside his lip.  “Well,” he mumbled, “that’s certainly true.”  He sighed.  “It has been enjoyable, I suppose.”

Kalim grinned.  “See?  That’s great!”

Jamil shook his head, but his lip pulled in the slightest hint of a smile.  Kalim relaxed to see it.  Jamil was in a good mood.  Jamil was happy.  Jamil was pleased with him.

“Was I good today?” he asked.

Jamil jolted, nearly dropping the hanger he’d pulled out.  “What?”

“You said if I was good, you’d make my favorite for dessert.  So was I?” Kalim asked.  His cheeks felt warm, and he wondered if maybe asking was going too far, but then Jamil’s expression resolved, his dark eyes catching Kalim’s again.

He smirked.  “You’ll just have to see for yourself, won’t you?”  He gave the hanger a shake.  “Let’s get going.  Don’t want you to be late.”

Kalim went easily, helping Jamil make him presentable again.  And when dessert came out, Kalim was pleased to find his favorite presented before him.  He shot a quick grateful look to Jamil, but Jamil pretended not to see.

Still, he couldn’t hide the way his lip curled, and that filled Kalim with as much warmth and satisfaction as the dessert.  He slept easily that night, dreaming of Jamil and his cruel grin and gentle control and sweet rewards.

Chapter Text

Kalim whimpered, hard and pent up and—he shouldn’t.  It would be crossing a line, and it would be wrong.  Jamil was his friend.  Jamil was everything.  Something like this could ruin them, and Kalim would never be able to live with himself if it did.

But it hurt.  And all he could think about was Jamil’s control, sweet and suffocating, pulling him this way and that.  And every thought of that power wrapping him up only served to drive him that little bit crazier, his temperature spiking with each.

He’d resisted for two weeks so far as the negotiations stretched on and on, but how much longer would he be able to last?

Kalim clawed at his bedsheets, moaning pitifully.  Jamil was so handsome and so powerful, and he was Kalim’s best and most trusted friend.  It wasn’t fair.

He forced himself back out of bed, and into his bathroom to splash cold water on his face.

Focus, Kalim.  Be good.  You can’t do this to Jamil.

Kalim forced himself back to bed, but sleep was slow to come.

Kalim sat up straight and smiled brightly all through dinner.  Even after a few weeks of it, sitting at the head of the table felt strange.  Normally his father took this seat, leaving him to sit beside his mother, but so long as his father was gone, Kalim was technically the host.

Jamil stood ever at his side, his sharp eyes focused on the middle distance to hide exactly how much he noticed.  Kalim kept himself still in his seat despite the urge to check over his shoulder, to bring Jamil into the conversation, to ask him about the topic at hand, whatever it might be.

Luckily, he’d been practicing hosting since he was small, barely able to babble out complete sentences, his mother guiding him through elaborate play pretend banquets with Jamil and a horde of plush toys.  Banquets and parties were second nature, his hosting smile easy and natural no matter how much his thoughts wandered.

Hosting at school had really driven home exactly how much more fun banquets could be when he was hosting them with Jamil.  It was hard to go back to how things used to be, knowing how much better it could be (and had been).  But his father’s rules were absolute, and Jamil was a servant.

Kalim resisted the urge to look up at him again, forcing himself to keep engaged with the people around him.  The woman sitting to his left had been talking about her experience in the city, the sights and sounds and so on.

It was lucky her father seemed to be engaged in conversation with one of his father’s employees, seated next to him, or else he might have a harder time hiding how little he’d been paying attention.  As it was, sightseeing was another thing he knew all too well.

“Did you find the market okay?  I know it can be a little hard to find, tucked away as it is,” Kalim said.  “Worth the search, of course.  You can find almost anything down those alleys.”

“Oh, yes!  It was absolutely wonderful, exactly as you described!  It’s too bad you couldn’t come with us, but your servant’s directions were very good.”  She smiled warmly.  “We found it easily.”

Jamil bowed beside him, but otherwise remained silent.

Kalim only kept smiling from the strength of his training.  “I’m glad to hear it.  Jamil is always making sure I don’t get lost; I have a terrible sense of direction,” Kalim joked.

She laughed lightly behind her hand.  Her servant, a beastman named Deeana, refilled her glass, eyes respectfully lowered.

Come to think of it, what was the young lady’s name again?

Jamil bent his head.  “Master, it looks like it’s about time to begin the entertainment.”

Kalim nodded.  He hated the way that sounded in Jamil’s voice, hated the way his eyes went cold whenever he said it.  “Thank you.  See it done, please.”

Jamil bowed before slipping away.

The young woman tilted her head to one side, eyes curious.  “You’re a strange one, aren’t you?  Isn’t he a servant?  You don’t need to be so polite.”

Kalim barely kept from wrinkling his nose, hiding his discomfort behind a laugh.  “I prefer to be sure everyone knows that I appreciate their hard work, that’s all.  Please and thank you is the least I can do.”

Deeana met his eyes in her surprise before they darted away again.  Her hands tightened on the decanter of wine she held in such a way that Kalim wondered how her mistress treated her.

The young lady laughed with him.  “How funny!  You really are very interesting, Kalim.  I wish I didn’t need to leave tomorrow so we might get to know one another better.”

“It’s too bad,” Kalim agreed politely.

Music began to play from the small area cleared to serve as a stage.  The dancers stood just off of it, eyes on him and waiting for their cue.  Kalim stood, tapping the back of his knife against his wine glass to get everyone’s attention.

“Everyone, it is my pleasure to present to you dancers from our very own Adder Troupe, performing a new dance arranged special for this banquet!  I hope you will all sit back and enjoy!”

The assembled group clapped politely, and the music rose in volume as the dancers took to the stage.  Jamil returned shortly thereafter, collecting Kalim’s plate and refilling his cup.

Before he left again, he bent his head to Kalim’s ear and whispered, “Catarina.”

Kalim shot him a grateful smile, one of the few he’d allowed himself all night.  “Thanks.”

“Did you need anything else, Master?”

Kalim shook his head.  “I should be good for a while.  Thank you.  Dinner was delicious.”

Jamil shook his head.  “Send for me if you need me.”  He bowed, all for show, and disappeared again.  Kalim had to force his eyes back to the dancers to avoid watching him leave.  He missed him already.

Luckily, watching the dance was a perfect excuse not to speak with the people sitting nearest to him, including Catarina and her father.  Her father was exactly the reason he’d had Jamil take over for him during the day, quick to suspect ulterior motives where there were none, at least until he had several glasses of wine in him.

He was much easier to deal with once their business had been attended to, although the way he kept bowing out of conversations after setting Kalim and his daughter on a particular topic made it clear exactly why she’d been invited to negotiations she wasn’t otherwise participating in.

She might have an eye for business, but she wasn’t here to make a deal; she was the deal to be made.  Kalim sympathized, but he knew he’d be perfectly miserable with a woman like her on his arm.  She would never be willing to acknowledge Jamil, and Kalim would resent her for it.

Unfortunately, when the dance floor opened up, there was no polite excuse not to dance with her.  Aside from her views on servants, there was nothing actually wrong with the girl.  Kalim just didn’t want to marry her.

She was a good dancer, at least, and she was a natural conversationalist.  It didn’t stop Kalim from wondering about how Jamil’s hands would feel on his waist, or wondering what they might talk about while they danced.  Then again, Jamil took dancing so seriously, maybe they’d spend the dance looking into each other’s eyes and—

Kalim shook the thought off.  Dangerous.  He needed to be more careful.  There were things he wasn’t allowed to have, and Jamil was the absolute top of that list.

When the dance ended, Kalim gave her a gallant bow.  “I’ll be back shortly.  There’s something that requires my attention,” he lied.

“Of course.”  Catarina smiled, but she looked disappointed beneath it.  “I’ve probably monopolized you far too much already.”

Yes.  “Not at all.”  Kalim smiled.  “But I do believe I see a few young men who would like a turn dancing with you, if you’ll have them.”

“They have large shoes to fill,” she teased.  “I’ve already danced with the best dancer here.”

Kalim laughed politely.  Second best, he thought.  Without question.

Kalim slipped down one of the side halls and into the kitchen.  He kept off to the side where Jamil had cleared him to stand, tucked out of the way where he wouldn’t be a problem.

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly.  Jamil pressed a glass of water into his hand.

“Thanks,” Kalim murmured.

Jamil leaned against the wall beside him, eyes surveying the kitchen critically.  “Don’t keep her waiting too long.”

“Catarina?  I told her not to wait for me.”  Kalim took another drink.  “I’m sorry she spoke like that about you.  She was very rude.”

“Hardly.”  Jamil shook his head.  “You are weird, you know.  She was more or less polite to me.”

“She spoke about you like you weren’t there,” he complained quietly.  “That’s rude.”

Jamil sighed, but didn’t argue.  “Dance with her again anyway.  She really isn’t that bad.  Her staff is well paid, even if she can be a bit demanding.”

Kalim drank his water to keep himself from saying something stupid.  Dance with me yourself.  Do you think I could consider someone who doesn’t see you as a person?  Do you really think I can consider anyone but you?

“Thanks again for the water.”  Kalim smiled weakly.  “Back into the fray.  Wish me luck?”

“You don’t need it.”  Jamil took the cup from him.  “Party to your heart’s content.”

I can’t without you there with me.  “I will.  They haven’t even played my favorite song yet.”

Jamil laughed under his breath.  “The night’s still young, but you’ll definitely miss it if you wait in here too long.”

“I’ll get out of your hair, don’t worry.”  Kalim forced his smile back on.  “Thanks for letting me take breaks in here.  I really appreciate it.”

“Yes, yes, now get going.”  Jamil pushed him toward the door.  “I have work to do.”

Kalim returned to the party, but not without a last look at Jamil, in his element and absolutely untouchable.  Kalim clenched his hands at his sides and forced himself to keep walking.  It was harder than it used to be, but he could finish out the night without obviously clinging to Jamil.

He just wished he didn’t have to.

Chapter Text

After three weeks of grueling negotiations, they were finally done.  The contracts were signed, handshakes exchanged, and their guests out the door after a late lunch that rivaled their banquet the night before in scale.

Kalim blithely ignored the disappointed looks exchanged between the young lady (Katrina?) and her father.  Jamil had him bid them safe travels only after they insisted on leaving, engaging briefly in the requisite back and forth inviting them to extend their stay.

With their guests gone, the rhythms of the house finally began returning to normal.  Jamil had Kalim thank his staff as usual for their hard work, gave out some orders himself, and finally took them both away and back to his rooms to ‘work.’

Jamil closed the door behind them with a quiet sigh.  “It’s too bad, this was our last day.”  He cupped Kalim’s cheek.  “You are so very compliant.  I almost wish I could keep you like this.”

“Yes, Master.”  Kalim’s voice came out in the same even tone it always did, but for a moment, he wished his desperation would show, that Jamil would notice and do something about his feelings.  Make the move that Kalim wouldn’t.  Couldn’t.

Jamil laughed quietly.  “If only.  Now, then.  I release you.”

Kalim stumbled back into his body, all the sensations from the day filling him up and overwhelming him in a rush.  Jamil’s hand was still holding his cheek, close and affectionate and too much.  His smell, like warm bread and spices, kept Kalim’s head spinning.

He let out a shuddering breath and tried to keep his smile casual and friendly.  “Hi, Jamil.”

“Are you feeling okay?”  Jamil peered at him curiously.  Kalim averted his eyes.  “You sound a little breathless.  You’re not feeling ill?”

“No, no, I’m fine.  I just, um,” Kalim faltered.  What was he supposed to say?

I’m more attracted to you than ever.  Just looking into your eyes makes me feel like you’re hypnotizing me.  I want you to keep hypnotizing me.  I want you to take advantage of me while I can’t tell you no.  I want to do whatever you tell me to do.

“You just… what?  Kalim, what is it?”  He paused, and Kalim shuddered under his gaze.  “You’re avoiding my eyes.”  Jamil observed flatly, but there was something hurt in the tone.  Or maybe disppointed.  He pulled his hand away.  “Did we go too far today?  It was a shorter day and I thought things went well, but if I crossed a line…”

“No!”  Kalim met his eyes again, and his stomach flipped.  For a moment, he wondered if Jamil might take him over again.  Just because he could.  Because Kalim would let him.  “No, that isn’t it.  I, um.”  He swayed in place, eyes caught.  “I…”  His thoughts stalled.

Jamil’s eyes were so very dark.

“If I didn’t cross a line…”  Jamil didn’t move away, still standing so close that Kalim could feel his body heat.  He took Kalim’s chin in hand, turning his head to get a better look at his eyes.

Kalim fought to keep them open and alert, but Jamil must have seen something of his feelings despite his admittedly weak efforts.  He held his chin tighter.

“Could it be,” Jamil asked, lips curling into a smirk Kalim hadn’t seen since he overblotted, “that you’re worried you won’t be able to look away?  Are you having trouble staying up for me, Kalim?”

Kalim shuddered, swallowing down the noise that threatened to escape him.  “I-I—Of course not.  Why would I, when we’re done with our plan?”

“Why indeed?”  Jamil’s grip stayed firm, too strong for Kalim to turn his head.  If he wanted to look away, he’d need to struggle or pull, and Kalim didn’t know if he could do that.

He would need to want to escape first.

“Tell me, Kalim, how did it make you feel?  Weeks of being my pretty little doll, dressed up and made to perform, wholly at my mercy; did you enjoy it?”  Jamil’s fingers stroked over his skin, proprietary.

Kalim whimpered.  “I-I-I don’t know what you mean?”  He forced an awkward and uncomfortable laugh.  “It was relaxing, like I said.”

“Nothing more?”

Kalim shivered, eyelashes fluttering.  “N-Nothing more,” he lied.  “Just relaxing.”

“So you aren’t hard right now?” Jamil asked smoothly.

Kalim reeled back, breaking eye contact in his surprise.  “What?  I—I’m sorry, I—”  Mortification dropped heavily into his stomach.

Jamil was relentless, reeling Kalim back in, eyes darkly inviting.  “You’re not in trouble, Kalim.  I’m only gathering data.  This is an experiment, isn’t it?  The long-term effects of hypnosis, remember?”  Jamil’s smile grew warm and sweet, coaxing.  “Tell me the truth.  Have you masturbated to the thought of what I’ve been doing to you?” he pressed.

Kalim shook his head urgently.  “N-No!  I—I wouldn’t!  That would be—You’re my friend, so I shouldn’t—!”

Jamil grinned, sharp and cruel, but Kalim couldn’t look away.  “Shouldn’t?  Does that mean you wanted to, Kalim?”

Kalim tried to take a step back, but Jamil’s grip on his chin held him in place.  “I—I wouldn’t, honest!”

“So you did want to.”  Jamil chuckled under his breath.  His eyes seemed to glitter in the lamp light.  “Shall I tell you a secret, Kalim?”

Kalim held his breath as Jamil came even closer, eye contact breaking as his lips nearly brushed Kalim’s ear.  He squeezed his eyes shut as Jamil’s breath ghosted over his skin.

“I’ve done it.  I’ve masturbated while I thought of what I’ve been doing to you.”  Jamil touched his nose to Kalim’s ear, dragging it up the shell.  “Nearly every night, in fact.  You’ve been missing out.”

“You—What?”  Kalim tried to pull back to see Jamil’s face, but again he was held fast.  “You have?”

“Certainly.  Does that bother you?  Do you think I shouldn’t have done it?”  Jamil finally pulled back, but Kalim instantly wished he could hide his face again.  Jamil’s eyes were more intense than ever, captivating and overpowering.

Kalim couldn’t find the words, and even if he could, his throat was suddenly too dry to form any sound at all.  Jamil had touched himself to thoughts of Kalim?  Jamil wanted him like that?  Jamil also found his Unique Magic erotic?

“Or are you now imagining it?”  Jamil released his chin in favor of holding him by the side of his face, fingers brushing over his temple.  “How I looked, how I sounded, what specifically I might have been thinking about when I…”

Kalim whimpered.  “Jamil, I—”

“Yes or no, Kalim.  Are you thinking about it?”

“Yes.”  Kalim swallowed down the ‘master’ that threatened to leave him on instinct alone.  “Jamil, please, I—”

“Do you want me to tell you about it?” Jamil asked sweetly, not giving him a moment to collect himself.  “Or do you want me to help you with your little problem?”

Kalim blushed hot.  He could hardly deny it.  If he hadn’t been hard before, he was certainly aching now.  “I-I don’t know.”

Jamil thought about him, not just as a friend.  Jamil wanted him, wanted to touch him, wanted to—wanted to have sex with him.  Kalim’s face burned, heart pounding.  It was too much to adjust to all at once, every inch a paradigm shift.  Jamil really wanted him back?

“Hm, that’s not the answer I want, Kalim.”  Jamil shook his head.  “Be a good boy and tell me the truth.  Which do you want more?  Do you want to know?  Or do you want to come?”

Kalim opened his mouth, but Jamil’s hand landed over it.

“Before you answer, let me be clear.  If you choose to know, I don’t want you to come tonight.  And if you choose to come, I’ll never tell you what I thought about.”  Jamil’s eyes glinted like polished onyx.

Kalim shuddered, eyes fluttering nearly shut.  When Jamil pulled his hand away, Kalim whined.  “If you keep talking like this, I might not have a choice.”

“Oh?”  Jamil’s grin stretched.  “Already?  My, my.  What are we to do about that?  You wouldn’t want to break the rules, would you?”

Kalim bit his lip.  “If I—That is, if I choose to know…  Would you let me come tomorrow?” he asked hesitantly.

Jamil straightened, eager.  “I might, but I might not.  It depends on how I’m feeling.”

Kalim’s eyes fluttered shut.  “Oh.  I-I see.”  He squirmed in place.

Going without wouldn’t be fun, but never getting to know exactly what Jamil had been fantasizing about…  That might actually be intolerable.  And if Jamil said never, he meant it.  No amount of begging or whining would get Kalim what he wanted.  Not when Jamil was like this.

What was another couple days when he’d been holding himself back for weeks already?

“Would you—I don’t want to break the rules, so I-I want to know, but would you…  Would you use your spell on me again?  To keep me from, um…”

Jamil raised his eyebrows.  “Even though I might not let you come tomorrow?”

Kalim nodded.

“Even though it means you definitely won’t come tonight?”

Kalim nodded again.  “I want to be good.  I want—I want to make you happy.”

Jamil’s expression softened.  He stroked Kalim’s cheek with a fond smile; Kalim’s stomach flipped.  “That’s a very good answer, Kalim.  I’ll help you be good.  The one reflected in your eyes is your master.”

Kalim slumped forward with a relieved moan, eyes all but slamming shut, barely processing the rest of Jamil’s spell, as usual.  Jamil caught him around the waist and steadied him, laughing softly in his ear.

“Let’s get you comfortable.”  Jamil eased him back upright.  “Strip for me, Kalim.”

Kalim’s body moved obediently.  As he took off one layer at a time, Jamil stepped back and circled him, eyes trailing up and down each bit of newly exposed skin.

“I thought about this, for starters.  I’ve helped you dress and undress countless times, but I’ve never gotten to sit back and watch you undress.  It’s more erotic than I was expecting it to be.”  Jamil trailed a hand across his bare shoulders.  “I had to start stripping you myself again to keep from succumbing to temptation.”

Kalim’s hands slowed as he came to his underthings.  He wanted to obey, but he also wanted…  And Jamil had always let him voice questions about his orders.  Did this count?  Could he ask?

“Do you have a concern?”

Kalim relaxed.  Jamil would take care of everything.  “Yes, Master.”

“Speak it.”

“It’s embarassing to be the only one naked.”  Kalim wanted to voice his request, but Jamil hadn’t asked for any requests or even questions.

Jamil traced a hand down Kalim’s spine, drawing a pleasing shiver with it.  “I’ll take off a few layers, then.  How’s that?”

Kalim wanted to pout, wanted to whine and complain and beg for more, but he couldn’t do more than answer plainly, “Thank you, Master.”

Jamil stepped back around and, true to his word, pulled off his top layers until he was only wearing his (tight) black trousers.  Jamil’s chest and arms were toned and firm, his shoulders broad, his skin golden in the light.  Kalim wanted to put his hands on him, his mouth, wanted to finally feel that warm skin for himself.

“Now then, finish undressing.”

Kalim’s hands obeyed, and then he was bare.

He’d been naked in front of Jamil before, many times even, but it had never been like this.  Jamil looked his fill, shameless and eager, turning him this way and that, as if Kalim really were little more than a doll.  A toy for him to admire at his leisure and nothing more.

“I was always the most tempted first thing in the morning.  That initial moment, right when you woke up, when you met my eyes and almost started to fall into obedience without even waiting for my spell?”  Jamil sighed.  “The amount of times I needed to restrain myself from ravishing you then and there.”

Kalim wanted to moan, wanted to beg, wanted to promise he could do whatever he wanted whenever he wanted.

“Would you like that Kalim?”  Jamil’s voice dropped, seductive and dangerous.  “I wouldn’t wait for you to finish waking up before bringing you under my control.  And then, I would take you however I wanted you.”

“Yes, please, Master.  However you want me.”

Jamil urged him back toward the bed, and Kalim’s feet carried him there obediently.  He crawled up onto it and sprawled across his pillows, legs spread obscenely.  Kalim’s dick was harder than before, bobbing against his stomach and leaking from the tip.

“Later, Kalim.  When I fuck you, you’re going to come,” he threatened.  Promised.  When, not if.

Jamil sat down at the foot of the bed, eyes intent on him.  “I also thought about how easily you took to my control.  I thought about what I could make you do, and I thought about what it would take to make you fight me again.  You never have, did you know that?”

“No, Master.  But I have no reason to fight.  Master is Jamil, and Jamil is Jamil.”  Kalim wanted to cover his mouth or squirm away or cover his face, but he was forced to remain right where he was, open and exposed.

“You’ve indicated as much before, but you really trust me that much?”

“Yes, Master.”

“And is there anything you wouldn’t let me do to you?”

Kalim thought that through, thought about the things Jamil might want to do to him, thought about the things Kalim wanted him to do, and came up blank.  “I don’t know,” he admitted.

Jamil licked his lips.  “Well, now.  Isn’t that interesting?”

Kalim wanted to moan, wanted to beg, wanted to touch himself, but all he could do was blithely agree, “Yes, Master,” falling easily from his lips.

“You really are so easy for me, Kalim.  It’s a pleasure to control you.”  Jamil’s eyelids drooped low as he gazed at Kalim.  “Touch yourself, but don’t let yourself come.  I want you to move slowly.  Make it a tease.”

Kalim’s hands moved over his chest, his stomach, his neck.

“Go ahead and make whatever noise you want.”  Jamil smirked.  “I want to hear you.”

As if torn from his throat, Kalim moaned helplessly.  “Jamil,” he panted.  “Master!”  His hands were made to wander, slow and sensual, rubbing at his nipples before one slipped further down, stroking lightly over his cock.  “Please!”

“Good boy.  Keep going.”  Jamil lounged across Kalim’s bed, drinking in the sight with visible relish.  “I thought about this, too.  Making you do things to yourself for my pleasure, my enjoyment.”  He trailed a hand from the top of Kalim’s foot along his shin before pulling away too soon.

“More, please, Master!”

“And risk you coming before you’re allowed?  No, I don’t think so.”  Jamil hummed to himself.  “Now, I know we discussed my kindly considering allowing you to come tomorrow, but we haven’t discussed the details.”  Jamil placed a hand on Kalim’s bare knee.  “Stop,” he commanded.

Kalim’s body held perfectly still.  He moaned helplessly.

“Tell me the truth, Kalim; answer when asked.”  Jamil sat up to be sure their eyes met.  “Do you want this to continue?”

“More than anything,” Kalim answered.

Jamil stroked his knee absentmindedly.  “I see.  Do you want me to continue hypnotizing you?”

“Yes, Master.”

“And do you want me to let you come tomorrow night?”

“Yes, please, Master.”

Jamil smirked, leaning closer.  His hand tightened its hold.  “But do you deserve to come tomorrow night?”

Kalim’s breath caught.  Did he?  Was there something he had to do to earn it?  Was he not good enough?  Not obedient enough?  Was there more he could do?  “I don’t know, Master.”

“Who gets to decide whether or not you deserve to come?”

Kalim relaxed to be given such an easy question.  “You do, Master.”

“Go ahead and ask.”

“Do I deserve to come tomorrow night, Master?”

Jamil shuddered, eyes shutting and lips parting for a breathless beat.  And then his mouth curved cruelly.  “No,” he said smoothly.  “I don’t think you do.”

Kalim whimpered.  “Yes, Master.”

“But since I’m such a generous master, I’ll play with you again, and we’ll see if you can’t earn it after all, hm?”

“Yes, Master.  Thank you, Master.”  Kalim gazed up at Jamil with what he was sure was open longing.

He’d watched Jamil bossing people around often enough, and now that he remembered most of his time hypnotized, he could remember the looks on Jamil’s face while Kalim answered him obediently.

And Kalim was still allowed to say whatever he wanted.  “Master, is there anything I can do to service you?” he asked.

Jamil faltered, eyes widening.  “You—”  His shoulders tensed and his hand tightened to near pain.  “Sleep, Kalim.”

And Kalim had no choice but to obey.

“Kalim?” Jamil’s voice was gentle, hesitant.  Apologetic?  “It’s about time for dinner.  Come on, up you get.”

Kalim scrunched up his nose, fighting through the seductive pull of sleep to blink up at him.  Jamil was standing close, but he wasn’t meeting Kalim’s eyes.  “Good morning, Jamil,” he mumbled around a yawn.

“Evening, actually.”  Jamil winced.  “I, uh, shouldn’t have…  Um…”

“Are you apologizing for making me touch myself or making me sleep afterward?” Kalim asked, feeling bold.  Jamil wanted him.

“Both?”

Kalim shook his head.  “Don’t.  I liked it.  All of it.”

Jamil had been so flustered by his question, he had to immediately hide from him.  Kalim barely kept himself from preening.  Jamil really had been holding back for those three weeks, though, hadn’t he?

The possessive touches, the fond looks, the open affection—Jamil didn’t just want him.  He liked him.  He didn’t just like Kalim as a friend, but as more.  He liked Kalim the way Kalim liked Jamil.

“What’s with that look?” Jamil asked, eyes narrowed.

Kalim couldn’t suppress his smile.  “Nothing.  I’m just happy.  I thought you’d be mad at me that I was getting turned on when you hypnotized me.”  And instead, Jamil liked him.  Even better, Jamil was getting turned on too.

Jamil scoffed.  “As if I could.”  He pushed a hand through his braids with a heavy sigh.  “You really…  That wasn’t uh…  Too far?  You know, you don’t actually have to, uh…”

“I want to.”  Kalim leaned closer.  “You said not to, so I won’t come until you say I can.”

Jamil shuddered.  “You’re kind of a pervert, you know that?”

“Is that meant to be a deterrant?”  Kalim barely kept from laughing.  “I mean, coming from you…”

“Oh, shut up.”  Jamil turned to hide his face, shy despite the way he’d been talking earlier.  “Don’t come to me later and say you regret this, okay?  I gave you an out.”

“Mm,” Kalim agreed.  “Thank you for always thinking of me, but I won’t need it.”  He hesitated.  “Do you…  That is, do you not want to continue?  If this is all we do, that’s fine, I’ll just, um—”

Jamil covered his mouth with his hand.  “I want this.  If you have no objections, then I’m going to do what I want.  And I won’t hold back.”

Kalim relaxed and kissed his palm; Jamil yanked his hand back, eyes wide.  “Please do.  I’ll look forward to it.”

Jamil met his eyes for a long enough moment that Kalim’s head started to get a little spacy before he finally nodded once.  “Right, we should get you dressed properly.  Dinner’s soon, and I’m sure your mother will want to talk about the negotiations with you before your father gets home.”

Kalim sighed.  Back to business.  “Yeah, probably.”

As Jamil helped him dress for dinner, Kalim wondered at the possibility of asking him for a kiss.  But with the way Jamil was steadfastly avoiding looking too closely at him, he thought it might need to wait.

That was okay.  Kalim could be patient.

When Kalim made it to the smaller room where his family tended to eat dinner when they were all available, his mother stood gracefully from her seat and kissed both his cheeks.

“Kalim, sweetheart, you did so well.”  She cupped his cheeks, smiling warmly, red eyes shining in the lamplight.  “I’m so proud of you.  Come, sit.  And you, too, of course, Jamil.  Please, I insist.”  She drew them both forward.

“I’ll help Aadila bring the food out,” Jamil said.  “And then I’ll sit, ma’am.”

“Oh, very well.”  She took his hand.  “Thank you for working so hard these last weeks.  I’m sure it can’t have been easy.  Wadi told me all about how well you handled things.”

Jamil looked away, cheeks darkening.  “It was nothing, ma’am.  Kalim did all the heavy lifting, really.”

“Wasn’t he amazing?” Kalim asked brightly, ignoring Jamil’s deflection entirely.  “I don’t know how he keeps track of everything, but I couldn’t have done any of it without him.”

Jamil bowed quickly and hurried away.

Kalim laughed and sat beside his mother.  When the door shut behind him, his mom leaned closer, eyes twinkling and smile conspiratorial.  “He gets so flustered.  It really is charming, isn’t it?  What a sweet boy.”

Sweet wasn’t the word Kalim would use, but he was certainly charming.  “I think it is.  Don’t tell him, though, or he might never come back out of the kitchen.”

His mother smiled and stirred her tea.  “Now, I told your father I would ask.  What did you think of Catarina?”

Kalim sighed.  “I don’t like the way she talks about her staff or ours.  She talked about Jamil like he wasn’t standing right there, and she acted like it was weird to say please and thank you.  I just don’t think we’d be a good fit.”

His mother nodded.  “That’s what I thought you’d say.”  She shook her head.  “Well, I told him I’d ask, and I have.”

“Are you disappointed in me?” Kalim asked.

“No.”  She took his hand.  “You should choose a partner carefully.  They will be your constant companion and a parent to your children.  That’s not a match to be entered into lightly.  You should take as much time as you need to decide.”

Kalim sighed, this time with relief.  “Will you talk to Father?  Maybe you can convince him that I’ve got plenty of time and he doesn’t need to rush?”

“I’ll try.  He should at least let me try to pick someone for you next time, but you know how he gets.  He thinks he knows best, and heaven forbid someone correct him.”  She shook her head.  “Now, then, enough of business!  Let’s discuss the latest performance from our resident troupe, hm?”

“Yes!  Finally.”  Kalim sat forward, eagerly breaking down the performance beat for beat, critiquing and praising in equal measure.

By the time Jamil and Aadila returned, they were in full swing, and it was no effort at all to drag Jamil into the discussion.  Aadila remained quiet, but her eyes followed the conversation, and Kalim knew from experience that she was listening intently.

How many hours had he spent sitting at her knee while she was working on something, rambling away about whatever he was interested in at the time?  How many times had he started to apologize before she asked a thoughtful question and started him off again?

As was her habit, Aadila chimed in once or twice, comparing one of the dancers to his mother as a young woman, and observing that one of the young men wasn’t truly playing to his strengths.

But as with all good things, someone waved from a side door, catching Jamil and Aadila’s attention at once.  “Mistress,” Aadila murmured, “final preparations for your husband’s return need your approval.”

Kalim’s mother sighed.  “Is it time already?  How disappointing.”  She leaned in and kissed Kalim’s cheeks again.  “Aadila will take the dishes today.  You boys enjoy the rest of your evening, hm?  And I’ll see you both tomorrow.  Or, perhaps the day after.  Whenever your father actually arrives,” she decided.  “Well done these last weeks, my darling.  I’m very proud of you.”

“Thanks, Mom.  Good luck with everything, and let us know if there’s anything we can do to help.”

Jamil bowed his head as she and Aadila stood to leave with the quiet swish of silk and a few more pleasant goodbyes.  Kalim sighed.

“Don’t worry, you’ll see her soon.”  Jamil stood and straightened his clothes.  “You’ll likely even be seated beside her for the next banquet.”

But you won’t be allowed to sit with us.  Kalim shook himself and forced a more cheerful smile.  “Yeah, that’s true.  And we’ll have a family dinner when Father gets home.  That should be nice.”  Not as nice as this, but at least Mom will be there, even if you aren’t allowed to sit with us.

“Plenty to look forward to,” Jamil said mildly.

Kalim could agree with that at least.  He and Jamil had barely gotten started playing with his hypnosis.  Kalim was excited to see what Jamil might try on him next.

Chapter Text

“Kalim,” Jamil’s voice curled sweetly through his ears, the scent of incense and spices fresh in his nose.  “It’s time to wake up.”

Kalim yawned.  “Jamil?  Good morning.”  He blinked a few times to clear his eyes before lifting his gaze.

Jamil’s were there waiting for him this time, dark and inviting.  “Let’s see what we can do, shall we?” he asked.  His voice was low, like he intended to let Kalim fall back asleep, like he wanted…  “You’ve gotten so much practice, I wonder if you even need the spell now.”

Kalim couldn’t look away, and even as his eyelids drooped and threatened to close, he couldn’t so much as blink.

Jamil held his chin and shook his head for him.  “I don’t think you need the spell either.”  He chuckled.  “Still, there is something to be said for repetition, so let’s try the words without the magic, hm?”

Jamil nodded his head for him.

“Good boy.  The one reflected in your eyes is your master.”  Jamil lifted him by his chin, forcing his chin up at a strange angle until Kalim’s head felt heavy and his eyes strained to maintain contact with Jamil’s.

“Answer when asked.”  His mind felt strange and fuzzy, floaty, like it always did when Jamil’s magic was working on him.  Could Jamil really hypnotize him without so much as casting a spell?

Kalim’s dick stirred in his pajamas.

“Bow your head when commanded.  Drop, puppet.”  Jamil released the hold he had on Kalim’s chin, and in that instant, Kalim’s head hit the pillow and his eyes fell shut and his mind went totally silent.

“Are you hypnotized, Kalim?”

“Yes, Master,” Kalim mumbled, voice slow and lethargic.

“Fuck,” Jamil breathed softly.  “You were made for this.  Made for me.”  Jamil’s hands held his face.  “The things I want to do to you…  But this was just a test.  We have work to do today before your father gets home, and I need you awake for it.”  He sighed, hands stroking his cheeks and pushing through his hair.  Covetous.  Possessive.  “Now then, be a good boy for me today, and we’ll play more tonight.”

“Yes, Master.”

“Open your eyes, Kalim.”

Kalim obeyed.  He’d never seen that look on Jamil’s face before.  It looked like victory, and it looked like ownership.  It might look off-putting on someone else, but on Jamil, Kalim didn’t dislike it.

“Beautiful,” Jamil praised.  “When I look into your eyes and tell you to drop, you will return to this state for me.  Do you understand?”

“Yes, Master.”

“Repeat it for me.”

“When you look into my eyes and tell me to drop, I will return to this state for you, Master.”

“Good boy.  We’ll practice that one more later.”  Jamil sighed.  “I hate to wake you, but we do have work that needs doing, and one of us needs to be responsible.”  Jamil pet his head again, fingers firm where they dragged over his scalp.  “When I count to five and say wake, you will wake completely, no longer hypnotized.  You will not forget what we’ve done, and you will remember your instructions.”

Kalim watched him, eyes fluttering the longer they maintained their stare.

“One,” Jamil counted.  “Two.”

Kalim could feel the fog beginning to clear.

“Three.”

Kalim was aware enough to wish they could stay in bed all morning.  Longing tore through him.  What work could possibly need doing?  It really couldn’t wait?

“Four.”

Jamil looked reluctant, dark eyes fixed on Kalim.  He was still playing with Kalim’s hair, a frown etching itself deeper and deeper into his features.

“Five.”

Kalim teetered on the precipice.  He was so close to waking, but the longer Jamil delayed it, the more certain Kalim was that Jamil wasn’t going to wake him after all, that Jamil was going to let go and let Kalim tumble down again.  And maybe this time, he’d keep him there a while.

He could, so easily and for as long as he wanted.  Kalim was his after all.  His to play with, his to take care of, his to—

“Wake.”

Kalim jolted, shivering down to his toes.  His thoughts snapped back into focus.  “O-Oh, shit.  I didn’t know you could—did you know?  How long have you been able to—?”

“I didn’t know for sure,” Jamil said.  He sat up and turned away, pressing a hand over his mouth.  “I’d hoped, but fuck.”

“So, you really do like it?” Kalim pressed.  “It’s not weird?”

“Of course it’s weird,” Jamil muttered into his hand.  “But if we stop…”  He shook his head.  “No, at this point, I won’t be able to stop myself.”

Kalim let his eyes shut with sheer relief.  “Good.  Don’t stop, please don’t.”

Jamil shook his head instead of replying.  “Now then, let’s get you dressed and fed.  We have a lot to do today if we want time to play after dinner.”  Jamil stood and rolled his shoulders.

“We really have to work?” Kalim complained.  He got out of bed reluctantly, and let Jamil undress him, redressing him in something he’d already set aside.  “We can’t have a little fun first?”

“No.”  Jamil straightened Kalim’s headscarf, eyes critical and detached.  “But if you behave, I might make an allowance for your lunch break.”

Kalim perked up.

“Might.”  Jamil tugged lightly at his earlobe.  “No slacking in the meantime.”

“Yessir!”  Kalim grinned.

Jamil rolled his eyes and sighed, but the curve of his lips spoke volumes.  “Let’s go, Kalim.  And I better not hear any complaining about how much work has piled up, when someone tied his own hands for three weeks.”

Jamil crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair.  His legs were spread wide, but Kalim was exercising restraint.  Even though he really wanted to kneel between them, he was sitting in his own desk chair and being very, very good.

“Is it time for lunch?” Kalim asked carefully, glancing at the clock on the wall.

“It is.”  Jamil narrowed his eyes.  “You’ve been surprisingly cooperative.”

“You said if I behave…”  Kalim bit his lip.  “Was I good enough?  Can we?”

Jamil sighed.  “I should have known you’d be like this.  You have a tendency for pleasure seeking.  Did you know that?”

“Is that a bad thing?”  He shrugged.  “Isn’t that just what everyone does?”

“Not like you do.”  Jamil pinched the bridge of his nose.  “You didn’t complain even once all morning, and you have been working very hard…  That said, I’m not sure what exactly you want as a reward.”

“Whatever you’ll give me,” Kalim answered easily.  “Whatever you think I’ve earned.”

Jamil’s eyes snapped open.  “You should be very careful, Kalim.  I’m not as fair-minded as you seem to think.”

“But if I’m pleasure seeking like you say, then a good reward is all the motivation I need to be more obedient and cause less trouble for you, right?”  Kalim smiled.  “You’re very efficient, and you’d hate to waste an opportunity like this one, right?”

Jamil glared, but there was no real heat in it.  “You’re a menace.”  He tipped his head back, baring the line of his throat to Kalim’s gaze.  “But you’re not wrong.  All right, what exactly do you like about my hypnosis?”

Kalim blinked.  “What do you mean?”

“Well, what about being hypnotized would qualify as a reward to you?”  Jamil gestured vaguely.  “I can’t see how being controlled at all would be a positive.”

Kalim snorted.  “No, you probably wouldn’t.”  Jamil would hate being under someone’s control.  He would fight it at every step, unwilling and unable to relax and let it wash over him.  “I don’t really know what to say.  It just feels nice.”

Jamil huffed.  “Fine.  Come here.”

Kalim bounced to his feet and stepped between Jamil’s legs.  Jamil curled a finger through his tunic and pulled Kalim down until he was bent at an awkward angle.  Their eyes met and held.

“That’s it, look deeper.  Good boy.”  Jamil smirked, but Kalim was already feeling hazy and indistinct, eyes fixed on Jamil’s.  “Drop.”

Kalim went boneless, eyes falling shut, only prevented from toppling over by Jamil’s hands guiding him to his knees.  His breathing was slow and even, and everything felt soft and warm and muzzy.

“Good boy, Kalim.  That’s it.”  Jamil unwrapped his headscarf and began playing with his hair.  “Nice and easy for me, aren’t you?”

“Yes, Master.”  His head was guided to rest against Jamil’s thigh.

“Now, do you really not know what you like about this?” Jamil asked.

“It’s difficult to describe, Master.”  Kalim’s voice explained.  Kalim wanted to pout or complain that Jamil didn’t take him at his word, but as usual, his complaints remained internal.  “Your control and your will feel good.  It’s like being wrapped in a blanket, safe and warm.”

Jamil kept petting him.  “Really?  You feel safe like this?”

“Jamil would never let me come to harm.  There’s nowhere safer in the world.”

Jamil’s hand paused for a moment before continuing.  “I see.  That’s good to know.  So this is all you want?”

“I’d also like to come, Master,” Kalim pointed out, the words tumbling out without his permission.  He wasn’t hard yet, but the slightest push was all it would take.

Jamil laughed.  “I bet you would.  This will have to do for now though.  I don’t want to rush this.”

“Yes, Master.”

Kalim basked in Jamil’s attention and affection, soaking it up through the physical contact like a particularly dry sponge.  Kalim was fed lunch at some point, but Jamil let him stay under until it was time to get back to work.

Kalim sat on the end of his bed, barely refraining from bouncing in place.  Jamil closed and locked the bedroom door behind him.

“I’m going to give you another choice,” Jamil said carefully.  “I could let you come, or we could experiment with hypnotizing you.  There are some techniques I’ve considered trying, but they’ve always seemed like overkill if I’m already using my Unique Magic.”

Kalim licked his lips.  “So I can either have permission to come or you’ll hypnotize me lots?  You won’t hypnotize me and let me come?”

“I won’t.  One or the other.”  Jamil tipped his head to one side.  “What will it be?”

“Please hypnotize me,” Kalim said, folding his hands in his lap.

“You don’t want to think about it?” Jamil asked.

“No need.”  Kalim shrugged.  “If I can only have one, it’s no contest.”

“Then look at me.”  Jamil tilted Kalim’s head back.  “The one reflected in your eyes is your master.”  As had happened that morning, the words had a strength all their own, but there was no spark of magic behind it.  “Answer when asked.”

Kalim struggled to maintain eye contact, eyelids fluttering and threatening to close.  His mind grew hazy and his thoughts clouded.

“Bow your head when commanded.  Drop, puppet.”  Jamil released his chin, and at once, Kalim’s head lolled forward as though he’d gone partially boneless.  Whatever thoughts he’d been having went quiet, mind empty but for the presence and nearness of Jamil.

“Are you hypnotized, Kalim?”

“Yes, Master.”

“Good boy.”  Jamil stroked up and down Kalim’s arms.  “Now then, like we did this morning, as I count to five, you’re going to come back up for me.  And when I say ‘wake,’ you will.  Do you understand?”

“Yes, Master.”

“One.”  Jamil’s voice was low, like he was still hypnotizing Kalim, not at all like he wanted him to wake up.

“Two.”  But even with the mixed signal of his tone, the counting won out, his head clearing slightly as the number went up.

“Three.”  A little higher, and a little more awake.

“Four.”  Getting even closer, Kalim could just about twitch his fingers.

“Three.”  Kalim faltered like he’d missed a step on the stairs, head fuzzing back over slightly.  What was Jamil doing?

“Four.”  Jamil’s voice was so soothing and so easy to obey.  Kalim wanted to bury himself in the sound until there was nothing but Jamil’s voice.

“Two.”  Kalim’s stomach swooped as he dropped back down, head spinning and thoughts stumbling to a clumsy halt.  Even though he should be waking up, somehow he felt like he was edging deeper than before.

“Four.”  Kalim almost whimpered at the abrupt jump toward clarity.

“Five.”  He was so close to surfacing, just waiting on that one little word.  Kalim’s eyes fluttered with the urge to open, but he waited for Jamil’s order.

And waited.  And waited.  Kalim could feel himself starting to slip backward again, like the ground beneath him was shaky and unstable.

And then Jamil let out a soft breath.  “Good boy.  Wake.”

Kalim opened his eyes, only to be met immediately with Jamil’s penetrating gaze, intent and too close and—Kalim’s breath caught.  His head reeled.

Jamil didn’t look away.  “That’s it, Kalim.  You’re doing well.  Now, drop.”

Kalim slumped at once, and this time, even his usual passing thoughts were quiet.  He was definitely deeper than before, deeper and safer under Jamil’s power.

“One two three four five, wake.”

Kalim gasped softly as he forced his eyes open.

Jamil was still there waiting for him, eyes too close for Kalim to look anywhere else.  “Good boy.  Drop.”

This time, Kalim moaned as he sank back down.  Deeper and deeper, and each time he surfaced, he felt less and less awake, and Jamil kept going, taunting him with the promise of a deep trance before bringing him back into a short-lived and shallow wakefulness.

“Wake.”  Jamil turned his head from side to side, inspecting him.  “How do you feel, Kalim?  Be specific.”

“Weird.  Floaty.”  Kalim blinked hard, thoughts swimming.  “Am I really awake?”

Jamil met his eyes and Kalim immediately listed slightly, thoughts stalling.  “Why do you ask?”

Kalim swayed closer, eyelashes fluttering.  “Um,” he tried.  “Ask what?”

“Interesting.”  Jamil forced his head back, and Kalim’s eyes began to close.  “Wake,” Jamil said again.

Kalim tried to straighten and his eyes snapped back open, but Jamil was still looking and Kalim couldn’t look away, couldn’t fight the effect he had, not now, maybe not ever.

“Are you awake, Kalim?”

“I-I don’t know.”  He blinked hard, struggling to pay attention, to focus.  “I think so?  Or maybe not?  My head’s all fuzzy, and you keep looking at me.”

“Good boy,” Jamil praised.  “Look deeper, that’s it.  Now, drop, drop, drop for me, Kalim.”

Kalim slumped forward into his Master’s waiting arms, mind blissfully empty.

“There you are.”  Master pet his hair, gentle and warm.  “Good boy, Kalim.  Now, stay just like this, nice and deep for me.”

“Yes, Master,” he sighed.

“Good.  I’m going to ask you some questions.  Go ahead and sit up a little and open your eyes, but stay nice and deep for me.”  Master maneuvered him upright, and Kalim found some hidden reserve of strength through which to open his eyes.

Master’s face was all he could see, and it seemed to be glowing or maybe sparkling?  Kalim smiled dreamily.  So handsome.  Maybe if he was good, Master would let him stay like this forever.

“Gorgeous,” Master praised.  He touched underneath Kalim’s eyes, staring intently.  “Have you ever been this deep before?” he asked.

“No, Master.”

“Your other trances, this morning and this afternoon, what would you rate their depth on a scale of one to ten?” Master asked.  He was still touching him, petting and stroking like he couldn’t stop.

“Morning was a four, and afternoon was a six.”

“And on average, how deep do you usually go?”  Master lifted his hand and released, watching as it fell limply back down.

“Six or seven.”  Kalim paused.  “The winter you overblotted, I was usually at an eight or a nine.”

“Interesting,” Master murmured.  “I suppose I’ve been holding back since I didn’t want to go too far again.  Not that I’ve accumulated any blot.  How deep are you now on the same scale?”

If this afternoon was a six…  “Thirty.”

Master pulled back, eyes wide.  “Out of what?”

“Ten, Master.  Like you said.”

Master covered his mouth.  “Five times deeper than this afternoon?  I suppose fractionation does more than I was expecting.  Or perhaps Kalim is just especially susceptible?”  Master met his eyes again.  “How did it feel?  The way I dropped you this time?”

“Good,” Kalim answered.  “Confusing.  It made my head spin, but now it’s all quiet and good.”

Master hummed to himself.  “I see.  How much deeper do you think you can go?”

“I don’t know, Master.”

“Do you think you’ll still remember this when I bring you back up?”

“I’ll try, Master.”

“Thank you, Kalim.  You’re doing very well.  Now then, let’s see what else we can do.”  Master cupped his cheek, smile turning wicked, and when Kalim woke up the next morning, that was where his memories ended.

Chapter Text

“You really can’t remember any of it?” Jamil asked him over breakfast taken in his rooms.

“No.  I can’t remember anything after you told me how well I was doing.”  Kalim shrugged, digging into his food.  “Did I go much deeper then?”

“Quite a bit.  This really doesn’t unsettle you?” Jamil pressed.

“No?”  Kalim swallowed his bite, puzzling over Jamil’s insistence.  Jamil sounded worried, but Kalim felt perfectly fine.  Great, even.  “Why would it?”

Jamil frowned.  “I could have done anything to you, and you’d have no way of knowing.  You’ll just have to take my word for it.”

Kalim shivered.  Anything sounded wonderful, too good to be true even.

Had Master touched him after he went deeper?  Would Kalim ever be able to know?  Would Master even tell him?  What if Master decided to only let him come while he couldn’t remember it?

Kalim bit his lip, cheeks hot and thoughts drifting.  “Master would never hurt me, so it’s all fine.  I was perfectly safe.”

Jamil straightened.

“Ah, I mean, you—Jamil—wouldn’t, um…”  Kalim blushed and sighed.  “Sorry.  After a certain point last night I started thinking of you as Master, and I guess that carried forward.”

Jamil looked away, a hand pressed tightly over his mouth.  “It’s fine.”

“I don’t know how many times I need to say it, but I trust you, Jamil.  If I didn’t, do you think I’d enjoy this as much as I do?”  Kalim smiled.  “It’s only fun because it’s you.”

Jamil stood and began fussing over the teapot.  “Good to know,” he mumbled.

Kalim rolled his eyes.  Jamil could be so funny sometimes.  He really didn’t seem to understand how much Kalim liked him.

It was cute, though, how easily flustered he could get.  Kalim smiled to himself and let Jamil save face, waiting patiently until he was ready to stop hiding and keep talking.

Kalim stood at attention as his father returned home with all the pomp and circumstance of a reigning king.  Jamil stood at his back, head bowed deeply.

“Kalim, my boy,” he bellowed.  “I’ve heard good things about your negotiations in my absence.  Come!  Let us discuss over lunch!  I’m half-starved,” he laughed.  “Nothing beats the taste of home cooking, you know.”

Kalim leaned into his father’s side as he wrapped a heavy arm around his shoulders.  Jamil disappeared without a word, off to the kitchens to finish making Kalim’s food, if he had to guess.

“Welcome home, Father,” Kalim said with a warm smile.  “How was your trip?”

“Productive, my boy, quite productive.”  He squeezed Kalim’s shoulder a little too hard.  “I’ve invited some new associates to hammer out a business deal; they’ll be here tomorrow.”

Kalim hid his surprise.  “Yes, Father.”

“And what of the people who just left?  No one caught your eye while I was gone?” he asked pointedly.  “No wives or husbands among their number?”

“No, Father.”  Kalim did not sigh, though it was a near thing.  They’d had this conversation dozens of times now, and Kalim’s answer was always the same.

“Well, no matter.  Perhaps someone from the conglomerate will catch your eye.”  Kalim’s father shot him a narrow look.  “You understand, of course, that a match between you and someone from this group would be good for the family, don’t you?”

“I understand, Father.”

His father sighed.  “No, you don’t, but you will.”  He squeezed Kalim’s shoulder again, and this time, Kalim couldn’t hide his wince.  His father didn’t comment, only loosened his grip slightly.  “I need you to think of more than just yourself, Kalim.  You’re my heir, and you need to act accordingly.”

Kalim glanced up at him, hurt by the implicit accusation.  Hadn’t he been sacrificing himself for the family this whole time?  How often had he actually chosen to do something for himself?  Following Jamil to school, for one, but after that?  Had he ever done it again?

He and Jamil had been working so hard to make Kalim into the heir his father wanted.  Kalim had been studying business textbooks with Jamil until late in the night when they had nothing else going on, all to make Kalim a better negotiator and a better successor.

Had his father not noticed any of his hard work?  Aside from the group who just left, hadn’t his negotiations gone well?  Even without Jamil’s direct intervention, he’d closed more than one deal while his father was away on business.  Did that count for nothing just because Kalim wasn’t willing to be sold off like cattle?

“Yes, Father,” Kalim muttered meekly.

Without guests, they ate again at the smaller table they used for family meals.  Kalim sat down between his parents at the small round table where he’d eaten with his mother and Jamil and Aadila, no one but their respective personal attendants joining them.

Jamil served his food without a word, but his hand did brush Kalim’s arm as he pulled away.  Kalim only barely kept from leaning into the touch, conscious of his parents’ watchful eyes.

“Hello, darling,” his mother greeted his father, offering her hand for a kiss.  He gave it readily.  “How was your trip?”

“Productive, quite productive.”

Kalim and his mother waited until his father began to eat before following suit.  “That’s good to hear.  Is it true there’s going to be another weekend of banquets starting tomorrow?”

“Well informed as always, my dear,” his father chuckled.  “As Raafiah made the initial introduction, I thought it fitting to invite the assembly back here to celebrate the deals we struck, and perhaps strike one or two more.”

His mother hid her displeasure well, but Kalim caught the way her hand tightened around her spoon.  “Of course.  And am I still to be hostess?”

“Why wouldn’t you be?” his father asked.

She shook her head, and tucked a strand of long, dark hair behind her ear.  “No reason.  I was only asking.  We’ll have everything ready in time, I’m sure.  When are the guests set to arrive?”

“Tomorrow morning.  We’ll start with at least one of those deals I’d like to get hammered out, and once that’s done, we’ll be ready to feast the weekend away.”  His father smirked.  “Perhaps a parade, as well.”

“Of course.”  His mother bowed her head.  “You need only name the day, darling.”

“Let’s plan for Sunday.  End the weekend with a bang.”  He laughed lightly.

Without looking, Kalim knew Jamil’s hands were gripping his own arms tightly behind his back.  No doubt Aadila was doing the same.  He’d never managed to get a read on any of his father’s personal attendants.  His mother only smiled with his father, holding her tongue no matter how frustrating the short notice must be for her as hostess.

Kalim wondered if his father knew how much work went into hosting behind the scenes, or if he even cared.  Truthfully, if Jamil hadn’t made him walk through every step of the process with him after his overblot, Kalim might not have thought anything of it either.

Knowing the truth only made his father seem thoughtless at best and callous at worst.  It wasn’t something Kalim liked thinking about.

“Did you read over the deal Kalim struck in your absence?” his mother asked.

“Oh, yes,” his father agreed.  “Quite impressive.  It’s just too bad young Catarina didn’t catch his eye.  I had hoped, you know.”

“Kalim is still so young, darling.  You were ten years older when we married.”  Her smile was gentle.  “Why the rush?”

“If he’d show some willingness to look on his own, perhaps I wouldn’t worry so much,” his father said as though Kalim weren’t sitting right beside him.  “But as he hasn’t taken any initiative, I’ll simply have to find a suitable match for him myself.”

His tone brooked no argument, though his mother frowned to hear it.

Kalim followed his mother’s example and held his tongue.  How he was expected to date casually when he had a poison taster and an armed guard with him whenever he left the house, he would never understand.  Not to mention his feelings for Jamil.

Lunch was tense, and the silence that periodically fell over the table was an awkward one.  Kalim ate quietly and wished he could go back to school where everything, overblots included, had been so much simpler.

With his father back home, Kalim’s evening freed up.  Jamil would be needed over the course of the banquet days, but the initial planning was still his mother’s domain, so his evening was free as well.  Kalim hoped they might continue where they’d left off, but instead, Jamil paced back and forth across Kalim’s bedroom.

Kalim kicked his feet, watching Jamil with interest.  Whatever this was about, Kalim still hadn’t a clue.  Jamil kept glancing back at him, brow furrowed, before resuming his pacing, so it was probably something about Kalim himself, although that hardly narrowed it down.

“Jamil, really, are you all right?  What are you so stressed about?” Kalim asked.

“Your father is hosting that banquet tomorrow night.”  Jamil didn’t stop pacing, thumb pressed just beside his lip.

“Yes,” Kalim agreed.  “Members from that new conglomerate or whatever.  They’re probably looking for some kind of special deal.  That or they were lured in by promises of food and entertainment.”  He tipped his head back.  “One of them had a connection to…  Uh, which of my father’s wives was it again… Raafiah?”

“It was Raafiah, yes.”  Jamil didn’t look up, tapping his foot restlessly.  “Your father hasn’t said anything else to you?”

Kalim shrugged.  “Nothing new, no.”

I need you to think of more than just yourself, Kalim.  You’re my heir, and you need to act accordingly.

Act accordingly, think of more than himself.  In other words, be quiet, and marry someone his father presented to him.  Whatever he told his mother, Kalim’s father had begun thinking about marriage for him when Kalim was still only 16, searching out a suitable match that he said would both make Kalim happy and advance their family’s various goals.

He’d started out with the young women related to his various business partners before branching out into young men as well when that didn’t bear any fruit.

Kalim had been happily ignoring his father’s matchmaking attempts for exactly as long as he’d been making them.  It wasn’t as though his heart’s desire wasn’t an obvious one.  His father knew exactly why none of his attempts landed, even if they never talked about it openly.

Had he finally said something about it to Jamil in an effort to sway Kalim after six years of failure?  His father didn’t tend to consult with servants for family matters, but maybe Kalim had finally been difficult enough to make it necessary?

But no, his father was just as stubborn as Kalim and Jamil both.  Kalim dismissed the idea.  Besides, Jamil seemed seriously worried about whatever this was, so it must be something else.  Jamil knew how Kalim felt about him, so there was nothing for him to worry about on that front.

Kalim would never marry someone who didn’t already hold his heart, and his heart had been held by Jamil alone since they were children.

Maybe his father had said something else?  Was this a more important deal than Kalim realized?

Jamil finally shook his head and closed the distance between them again, interrupting Kalim’s musing.  “Time for another choice.”

“If it’s between hypnosis and an orgasm, I’m still picking hypnosis,” Kalim told him.  It hadn’t been that long.  What was a few weeks when he finally had Jamil like this?  He could wait forever if he needed to.

“Even without knowing what I want to do to you?” Jamil asked.  “What if I want to do something you won’t remember?”

“Again?”  Kalim raised his eyebrows.  “Okay.”

“Just like that?”

“Jamil, seriously.”

“Yes, yes, you trust me, but anyone else would have some limits about that.”  Jamil shook his head.  “You really don’t have any?  There are no lines I should avoid crossing?”

Kalim shrugged.  “I don’t know.  There might be, I guess, but we haven’t actually stumbled over one yet.  I mean, what would you even want to do to me that you think I’d refuse?”

“What if I finally let you come, but it’s while you can’t remember it?” Jamil suggested.

Kalim licked his lips.  “And you won’t tell me that’s what you did?”

“I wouldn’t, no.”

“I actually thought about that this morning,” he admitted.

Jamil’s eyebrows rose.  “And?”

Kalim squirmed, stomach flipping.  “And I’m okay with that.”  Okay was probably an understatement, honestly.

“What if I mess with your waking memories?” Jamil tried.

Kalim shuddered.  “Could you?”

“I don’t know.  Do you want me to?”  Jamil’s dark eyes scanned his face as if searching out a lie.

“Maybe.  I’d want you to put me back to normal after, but I wouldn’t mind that.”  He bit his lip.  “Could you make me believe things that aren’t true?”

“I don’t know,” Jamil said again.  He hesitated.  “Probably.  If I used my Unique Magic as well, almost definitely.”

“Wow.”  Kalim squeezed his thighs together.  “I, um.”  He nodded quickly.  “That’s okay, too.”

Jamil pursed his lips.  “What if I give you a trigger phrase, something you aren’t aware of, and use it to control your waking self?”

Kalim clenched his hands in his bedspread.  “Jamil, please, definitely do that.  Don’t, like, let me bring shame to my family name or anything, but yes, please, definitely make me do things without my awareness.”

Jamil pinched the bridge of his nose.  “You’re ridiculous.”  He shook his head.  “I don’t know why I bother checking.  Drop, puppet.”

Kalim blinked hard, thoughts going muzzy and then silent as he slumped forward.  Jamil caught him, the scent of him curling around Kalim before even that awareness faded out.

Jamil resituated him, maneuvering him bodily until he was positioned how he wanted him.  “Right, let’s get you nice and deep again.”

Kalim was already pretty deep, he thought, but not as deep as last time, definitely.  His eyes were still shut tight, and even trying to open them wasn’t working.  He felt so good, so lethargic, and he couldn’t move at all, but Jamil had him.  Jamil always took such good care of him.

“Let my words become your thoughts,” Jamil murmured.  “That’s it, you’re already doing so well, listening so closely without thinking at all about what I’m saying.”

Kalim shivered, but he relaxed even further.  He was safe with Jamil, so he didn’t need to hold onto anything that wasn’t important.  Kalim was a good boy, so he could obey even without processing anything Jamil was telling him.

Kalim sighed.  “Yes, Master,” he agreed thoughtlessly.  “Twenty.”  He swayed in place.  He was conscious of speaking, of answering, but he couldn’t remember actually hearing a question.

“Good boy,” Master praised.  “Deeper and deeper for me, just like that.  I wonder if you can even tell what you’ve started to forget.”

Not at all, Kalim realized.  He was sure Master was speaking to him, but the rhythmic patter of his voice only lulled him deeper and deeper, thoughts growing as sluggish and lethargic as his body.  His chest felt light and tingly, and his mind scattered sweetly beneath Master’s tender ministrations.

“That’s it, Kalim, nice and easy, focusing back in on my voice.  Go ahead and open your eyes for me.”  Master turned his head this way and that, smiling down at him with something both fond and prideful.  “Now then, how deep are you, Kalim?”

“Thirty, Master.”

“Good.  And what is my name?”

“Master?” Kalim tried.

“That’s right,” Master said, eyes dark.  “Time for an experiment.  I want you to repeat after me.  Please, Master, let me serve you.”

“Please, Master, let me serve you.”

Master leaned closer until their eyes met.  “Good boy.  Now, you’re going to forget that sentence for me.  You’ll remember I asked you to say something, but even now, you’ll find the details of the sentence itself are getting fuzzy and indistinct.”

Kalim’s brow furrowed as the words did become harder to hold on to.  What had they been?  Please… what?

“Now, come up a bit for me, nice and easy, one, two, three, four, five,” Jamil said, still holding Kalim’s face.

Kalim swayed in place.

“What’s my name, Kalim?”

“Jamil?”

“Good boy.”  Jamil scanned his face.  “What did I just do to you?”

Kalim struggled to think against the heavy weight of Jamil’s gaze.  “Um, you told me to say something, right?”

“Very good.”  Jamil’s thumb dragged under his lip, distracting him thoroughly.  “What exactly did I just ask you to say?”

Kalim opened his mouth, but…  What had it been again?  His brow furrowed with effort.  “You asked me to repeat after you… and then you said…”  But there was nothing there, no memory of anything until he was told to forget.  “You said…”

“What did I say, Kalim?”

“You told me to forget,” Kalim answered.  “I—I don’t remember the rest.”

Jamil leaned even closer.  “You can’t remember a thing?”

“No.”  Kalim whimpered, thoughts whirling and hazy at the same time.  What else could Jamil make him forget?  What else could he make him remember?  “How did you…?”

“Drop for me, Kalim,” Jamil purred, lips brushing over his cheek.

Kalim slumped back into his arms, Master’s hold sure and proprietary.

“From now,” Master said.  “Remember that for me, and we’ll use the information again later, okay?”

“Yes, Master.”  He blinked his eyes open again as Master positioned him to his liking.

“Good.  Now, let’s have a little fun, shall we?”  Master moved around him and climbed up onto the bed, spreading his legs.  “Come here, Kalim.  Crawl.”

“Yes, Master.”  Kalim obeyed, crawling until he was kneeling between Master’s legs.

Master undid his fly and pulled out his cock, hard and heavy in Master’s pretty hands.  They’d been naked in front of each other before, but this was the first time he’d seen Jamil erect.  Kalim licked his lips, eyes fixing there as Master stroked the length slowly.

“That’s it.  Eyes on me, Kalim.”  Master’s voice was low and relaxing.  “We have a banquet tomorrow night, do you remember?”

“Yes, Master.”

“During the banquet, you are going to feel compelled to seek me out.”  Master’s hand kept moving, up and down.

“Yes, Master.”  Kalim spent every banquet wanting to see him, so this would be an easy instruction to follow.

“You won’t worry about bothering me, and you won’t hold back for propriety’s sake, to the extent you feel is safe.  When you want to see me, you will come find me.  And you are going to want to see me any time one of the guests begins speaking with you.”  Up and down, up and down.

“Yes, Master.”  It still didn’t sound any different from how he normally felt, but Master knew best.

“Good boy.  Repeat your instructions back to me.”  Up and down.

“I’m going to feel compelled to seek Master out during the banquet, especially when guests are talking to me.”  Kalim licked his lips.  “When I want to see Master, I won’t hold back.  I’ll just go see him without worrying about anything else, within reason.”

“That’s right, Kalim.  Good boy.”  Up and down.  “Would you like your reward now?”

“Yes, Master.”

“Even though I’m not going to let you remember this reward?” Master confirmed.

Kalim moaned.  “Yes, Master.  Especially then.”

“You really aren’t afraid?” Master asked.

“I could never be afraid of Master or anything he does.”  Kalim didn’t lift his gaze from Master’s hand, still wrapped around himself.  “Master knows best.  Master can remember things for me.”

“You’re a wonder, Kalim.”  Master sighed.  “Now, come here.  You’re going to use your mouth.  Have you done this before?”

“No, Master.  Never.”

Master shuddered.  “Then I’ll guide you.”  He curled a gentle hand around the back of Kalim’s head and guided him closer.  “First, go ahead and explore.  Use your hands and your mouth.  Do whatever feels best to you.  Follow your curiosity.”

Kalim slid a hand down his length, pleased by the weight of Master’s cock, the heat.  The skin was soft beneath Kalim’s hand, and had a slight give to it.  His cock was mostly fairly dry, but there was moisture beading at the tip.

Kalim bent his head lower and licked at the head.  A little bitter and salty, but not a bad taste by any means.  He licked again, dragging his tongue up the underside.

Master’s breathing went shaky.  “Fuck, good boy.”

Kalim preened, wrapping his lips around the head and sucking thoughtfully, rubbing his tongue against the head, testing its give.  He worked his hand absently over the part that wasn’t in his mouth, enjoying the texture under his fingers, and especially enjoying the way Master gasped and shifted beneath his touch.

Kalim hummed happily when Master’s grip tightened at the back of his head, guiding him into that same up and down movement from before, his head bobbing in time.

“Good boy,” Master praised.  “Keep using your tongue, and—fuck—your hands.”

Kalim reached lower to touch more than the shaft, but Master’s clothes were mostly in the way.  Master kept his head moving in rhythm, so Kalim let that be his focus, swallowing around his drool when he remembered, but otherwise letting it wet Master’s cock, smoothing the motion of his hand.

“Kalim, fuck,” Master murmured.

Kalim looked up at Master from under his eyelashes, pleased to see him visibly affected.  Kalim must be doing a good job.  Master must be pleased with him.  His cheeks were dark with their flush, and he was biting his lip.  As Kalim watched, Master covered his face with his arm for a beat, groaning as he rocked his hips.

Master’s hand tightened its hold at the back of Kalim’s head.  “Tell me you love me,” he commanded as he pulled Kalim’s mouth off his dick.

Kalim licked his lips and met his eyes, dark and frantic where they found Kalim’s.  “I love you, Master.”

Master gasped softly, hand curling around himself and resuming his stroking.  “Call me Jamil, and say it again.”

“I love you, Jamil.”

“Again.”

“I love you.”  Kalim blinked slowly up at him.  Did Master want to hear it a specific way or just as many ways as Kalim could say it?  And why did he seem like he was in pain?  He knew how Kalim felt about him, didn’t he?  “I’ve always loved Jamil most of all,” Kalim said honestly.

“Shit,” Master hissed.  Come landed on Kalim’s cheek and lips.  Kalim bent and licked at the head again, cleaning him up happily.

“I love you so much, Jamil.”  Kalim pulled back so he could keep looking up at Master.  Was that what he wanted to hear?

But Master had an arm over his eyes again, and his other hand was clenched in the bedspread instead of in Kalim’s hair.  Master looked unhappy, even though usually he praised Kalim for obeying his commands.  Even the easy ones, like this one.

Had he done something wrong?  Jamil… did know how he felt, didn’t he?  He knew Kalim loved him?  Had loved him?  Would always love him?

Kalim’s brow furrowed.

“Do you remember, I told you, ‘from now,’ before?” Master asked.

“Yes, Master.”

“From that point on, I want you to forget everything.  I’ll remember it for you, so you can just let it all go.  Forget all of it.  You don’t need to remember my instructions to follow them, and you don’t need to remember your reward either.”  Master lowered his hand; he looked miserable.

“Yes, Master.”  Kalim wanted to object, wanted to argue, wanted to ask why he looked so hurt, but the words stayed trapped in his throat.

“Forget everything from your mark, follow my instructions tomorrow, and sleep, Kalim.”

And Kalim did.

When he woke in the middle of the night, alone in his bed, Kalim’s pillow smelled like Jamil, even though Jamil never touched his bed long enough to leave his scent behind.

Kalim pressed his nose to the fabric.  He’d forgotten something, then, something Jamil asked him to forget.  Whatever it was, Jamil had been in bed with him for it, and…  It felt like he had tried to remember some part of it, like there was something he wanted to keep hold of, something…  Something Jamil needed to know…

But whatever it was, it was gone now, as surely as Jamil himself.  Kalim pressed his face into his pillow, took a deep breath, and let himself drift back off to sleep.  He couldn’t do anything about something he’d forgotten, after all.

And Master knew best.

Chapter Text

Kalim really did work very hard to be a good heir for his father.  He paid attention during the meetings he was allowed to attend, and he was always polite and attentive to their various guests and business partners.  When his father asked him to run point on a particular client or partner or on closing a deal, he and Jamil always gave it their all.

So he didn’t think it was too much to ask that the one thing Kalim refused to bend on was the subject of his eventual marriage.

If his father wanted to force a marriage, there was little Kalim could do to stop him without taking drastic measures, but his father would be forced to do the same before Kalim would ever cooperate.

Especially now, after…

Kalim glanced surreptitiously over his shoulder where he could see the edge of one of Jamil’s sleeves.

“My son will handle all tours.  He’s an incredible host,” his father bragged with a bellowing laugh.  “Takes after his old man, of course.”

Kalim turned his smile on the rest of the room and bowed his head politely.  “I would be honored to, of course, Father.”

Jamil’s eyes rested on him for a beat before they returned to the room at large.  Whoever he was meant to be touring, Jamil would make sure he was there on time.

“Moving forward, I believe it’s about time for a coffee break.”  Kalim’s father clapped his hands twice and a host of servants poured into the room with the coffee service.

Jamil bent beside his ear.  “I’ll return shortly.”

Kalim glanced up at him, nodding as he watched him go.  Jamil didn’t normally announce his departure, but today Kalim was grateful for it.  He felt restless and antsy, like he was waiting for Jamil to acknowledge him or speak with him, as if this were the time or place to be concerned with that.

“I must say,” the man beside him said, leaning closer, “I wasn’t expecting the attendance of an heir still so young.  Most heirs at your age are out living their reckless youth.”

Kalim smiled politely.  He was hardly much older than Kalim’s ‘reckless youth,’ if Kalim was any judge.  He’d guess no older than late 20s, for all that he certainly held more power and respect at the table than Kalim himself.

This might be the man his father wanted him to consider as a marriage candidate, but he couldn’t for the life of him remember his name.  He’d ask Jamil if he knew it later.  “I want to be worthy of the position.  I can’t expect to take over for my father someday if I’m unwilling to put in the work.”

“I heard you were in a band in school; why not find someone else to handle the business while you pursue your music?” he asked.  His eyes trailed down, slow and sticky in a way Kalim disliked.

If he were to leave his family’s business in any hands but his own, they would be Jamil’s.

Kalim kept smiling.  “I’d much rather do the work myself, as it happens.  But I’m sure there are many who feel as you do.”

“You wouldn’t rather let someone with more experience take the reins?” he pressed.  Someone like me, he meant.

“Master, your coffee,” Jamil interrupted lowly.

Kalim accepted it gratefully.  He took a long, bracing drink.  Jamil always made it perfectly.  Neither too bitter, nor too sweet.  The flavor of the coffee beans always sang their best when Jamil brewed them.

He let out a soft sigh and smiled up at his savior.  “Thank you, Jamil.”  He turned back to the man he’d been talking with.  “I thought we just established that I’m working under my father now in order to gain that experience.”

Jamil narrowed his eyes, just shy of a full glare.  “I do believe our break is almost over, Master,” Jamil said lowly.

“So it is.”  Kalim shuffled the papers in front of him.  “Excuse me, I must review a few of my notes.”

“By all means,” the man agreed with a genteel half-bow.

Kalim barely held himself back from rolling his eyes or glaring.  Whatever else he was, the man was irritating at least.  At most, something about him creeped Kalim out.

But it would all be okay; Kalim had Jamil with him.

By the time the meeting ended, Kalim was exhausted.  All that was left of the evening was the first night of the banquet itself, so all Kalim needed to do was eat and dance the night away.  As long as he could keep smiling, he could get through it.  And as long as he had Jamil nearby, he could keep smiling.

Jamil glanced through Kalim’s notes, while they were tucked into a spare room together for a rare and indulgent moment of privacy.  Kalim wanted to stand closer, but Jamil was obviously still in work mode, and he hated being distracted in the middle of things.

“These notes are well done, Kalim.”  Jamil looked up finally, and gave Kalim a precious smile.  “Good work.”

Kalim beamed.  “You think so?  I didn’t miss anything, did I?” he asked.

“No, but I’ll add everyone’s names before you meet with your father about it.”  Jamil tapped one of the many descriptions he’d written out in lieu of the names he’d already forgotten.

Kalim let out a sigh.  “You’re a lifesaver, Jamil.”

“You’d be lost without me,” he drawled, but his smile was pleased in spite of his tone.

“I really would be.”  Kalim sighed again.  “I know it’s selfish, but I wish we could run off a little early, just the two of us.”

“Really?”  Jamil’s brow furrowed.  “But we’ve finally reached your favorite part of the night.”

Second favorite.  Kalim liked letting loose, but not as much as he liked winding down with Jamil afterward.

“I know.”  Kalim leaned back and closed his eyes.  “I don’t know what it is.  I’m just… more drained than usual tonight, I guess.”  It felt like it was getting harder to lie.

Pretending to have fun should be easier when he was actually having fun on his off hours, shouldn’t it?  Why was it suddenly so much harder?

Kalim glanced up at Jamil helplessly.  “I almost wish I could ask you to steer for me for the next couple hours.  Selfish, right?”

Jamil’s brow furrowed.

A knock sounded at the door, too polite to be anyone but staff.  “Mr. Viper, we need you in the kitchen.  The banquet is about to start.”

Jamil shook his head.  “I’ll be right there.”  He looked down at Kalim.  “Get through this, and we can play when it’s over, all right?”

“Promise?”

“I promise.  Now get to the dining room.  I’ll be right there with your drink.”  Jamil touched the top of his head, massaging his scalp for just a moment before he headed out the door to get back to work.

As had been the case since Kalim was eight and first realized the differences between he and Jamil, Kalim missed him terribly from the moment he left his side.  More than a decade of practice helped him shake off the loneliness and get back to his own role, but for the first time since he was young, the feeling lingered in the tightness of his chest.

Kalim pasted his smile back on, easy and casual like he was just happy to be there, and not already thinking longingly of uninterrupted time alone with Jamil.

The only real benefit to formal dining arrangements was that when he wasn’t playing host himself, Kalim was always seated to his mother’s left.  He didn’t often get to see her anymore, busy as they both were, but for banquets, they were always seated close, meant to entertain whoever his father’s most honored man of the night was.

His mother gave him a private smile as he sat beside her.  “Kalim,” she murmured.  “You were almost late.  Where is Jamil?”

“He was called to the kitchen.”  Kalim took the hand she offered him.  “We were taking a moment to go over my notes from the meeting.”

“Such a diligent boy,” she praised.

“He really is,” the man who sat beside him at the meeting said, eyes still making themselves far too familiar with his person.  “And that attendant of his is something else.  Does he not permit you to eat with the rest of us?”

Kalim and his mother exchanged a private look, one that communicated exactly how foolish a question that was, coming from a relative of one of the other wives.

“Jamil is only doing the job we pay him for,” his mother said, her cool voice brooking no argument.  “Now, enough talk of business!  Tell me more about yourself, Mr. Khatib.”

Kalim lost track of what they were saying as the servants entered with drinks.  His mother’s personal attendant Aadila placed a wineglass unobtrusively at her left, disappearing back where she’d come from with only a brief look exchanged between them.

And even that was more than most of the servants were permitted.  Jamil was supposed to be that quick at his most indulgent, but tonight, he allowed a pause whenever he came and went, letting Kalim acknowledge him, even when the rest of the table, his mother aside, seemed not to see the servants at all.

Jamil placed his own glass on his left.  “You’ll be pleased with dessert tonight,” he murmured.  “Your father must be trying to butter you up.”

Kalim glanced up.  “Really?”

Jamil’s eyes glinted.  “Really.”

Kalim watched as Jamil’s gaze slipped from person to person, assessing for threats, before lighting on the guest of honor.  Kha-whatever.  His eyes narrowed, but only for a moment, before he was called away again by a secret sign Kalim had never managed to distiguish.

Not for the first time, Kalim wished Jamil had a seat at the table, that he could talk with him all night, the way they did when it was just the two of them.

At the other end of the table, his father’s food was tested by a slate of poison testers, though Kalim privately wondered if their assailants wouldn’t prefer to wait to kill his father until he was out of the way first.  His mother’s food and drink were always tested by her personal attendant like Kalim’s, though it too was only a precaution.

They’d never bothered trying to kill her either.

Sometimes, Kalim wondered if his father most feared an attempt on his life from Kalim’s mother.  They never slept in the same room, and in fact, his father’s wives all slept in a different wing of the manor entirely.

Until he was seven or so, Kalim had slept there as well; when his first brother was born, he was moved away from his mother without any warning or explanation, and a guard was posted outside his rooms.  Now he had Jamil and an incredibly complex series of magical locks keeping him safe.

“Is it true you sing, Kalim?” Kh-whatever asked him.

“Hm?  That’s right.”  Kalim refocused on the conversation.  His mother shot him a chiding look.  “Why do you ask?”

“I wondered if I might request a demonstration.”

“Right now?”  Kalim laughed, aiming for warm and easy.  “I don’t know.  Maybe after dinner, if I’m feeling up to it.”

“I’ll have to look forward to it, then.  I’ve also heard you’re an incredible dancer.”  He leered.

Kalim barely refrained from wrinkling his nose.  His father wanted him to consider this man?  Enough he was willing to offer bribes via the kitchen staff?  What kind of connection could this smarmy bastard possibly provide?

“I get by,” Kalim allowed.

“Our Kalim is only being modest,” his mother cut in.  “He’s won many a competition for his dancing after all.”

Competitions sponsored by his father.  Competitions where Jamil wasn’t allowed to truly compete.  If Kalim was a good dancer—and Vil and Rook had made sure that was true—then it was in spite of his victories, not because of them.

And Jamil was still the better dancer by far.

“Impressive!  When I was being raised by my uncle—the cultural minister, now—I often took dance classes, but I’m afraid I never quite had the knack for remembering all the steps.  Traditional dances can be so complicated, can’t they?  And for what?  I must admit, I quite prefer the more modern forms.”  Kh-whatever gave a simpering smile.

Kalim glanced at his mother in disbelief.  She had caught his father’s eye doing exactly the same type of dancing he so casually denigrated.

What was it Ruggie had called this technique?  Negging?  Why couldn’t people just say what they meant when they meant it?  Why was he constantly left wading through hidden meanings and secret motives?

“Is that so?  I’ve never found them all that difficult to remember.  What about you, Mother?” Kalim asked sweetly.

“Oh, it’s all in the music.  When you let it flow through you, the steps start to come naturally.”  She hid her expression behind her wineglass.  “It takes a great deal of practice, but the results speak for themselves.”

“Oh, truly,” Kh-whatever agreed.  “I suppose I was always too busy to truly commit myself to learning to dance.  There were so many other lessons my uncle had to teach me.”

Kalim took a long drink from his own glass.  Wine wasn’t his favorite, but at least it was something to do with his hands.  Food and dancing and then he could be with Jamil.

He just had to get through this.

Chapter Text

As soon as the dessert plates were taken away, his father announced the start of the real festivities, summoning musicians and dancers with a clap of his hands.  Kh-whatever leaned across the table.

“Will you be gracing us with that performance, Kalim?” he asked.

“I don’t think so, no.  But do enjoy the dancers; they’re all incredibly skilled.”  Kalim gave a smile that approximated warmth as best he could.

Jamil returned to his place just behind and to the left of Kalim.  Kalim glanced back and waved Jamil closer.

“Did you see?  There’s been a promotion,” he murmured, nodding toward the dancers.  “Will you congratulate Naganika for me?  She’s worked so hard for this.”

Jamil’s expression softened.  “I will.  How was dessert?”

“Delicious.  Not as good as yours, but still excellent.”  Kalim beamed.

Jamil hid his laugh behind his hand.  “You flatter me, Master,” he purred, all teasing.

“Kalim, do you know the dance they’re performing?” Kh-whatever interrupted.

Kalim didn’t turn right away, struggling to remove the irritation from his face.  Once he could make a more pleasant expression, he turned and launched into a speech on the history and story of the dance, hoping to bore him into losing interest.

Unfortunately, his plan failed.

“Jamil, what year was this dance first performed again?” he asked, desperate not to do this song and dance alone.

Jamil raised an eyebrow, expression plainly asking why Kalim needed his assistance when they both knew he knew perfectly well the exact year and the exact occasion.

Still, Kalim kept roping Jamil in whenever he could, ignoring his mother’s quelling glances and clinging to whatever fleeting connection he could have with Jamil.

When the performances were over, and the floor opened up for dancing, Kalim’s father came over to offer his mother a hand up and a dance.

She smiled warmly up at him, but his own smile was distant.  Kalim watched them walk to the dance floor and begin the first dance of the night.  After the first circle around the floor, others were allowed to join, but for that first round, it was only the two of them.

Kalim couldn’t imagine dancing so cautiously with Jamil.  The thought of so much distance building between them, the chasm between them yawning wide with their roles dragging them apart…  It was unthinkable.

Why were they even married?  What was the point if the love had gone?  Had there ever been any love at all?

“Oh dear,” he murmured to himself, pretending to inspect part of his shirt.  “Jamil, can you help me for a moment?  I think a part of my shirt may have torn earlier.  I believe it caught on something.”  Kalim shot Jamil a desperate look, eager to flee long enough to avoid dancing with whatever his name was.

“Of course, Master.”  Jamil stood and followed him out of the room.

Once they were alone in a side room, Kalim stepped closer and dropped his head on Jamil’s shoulder.  “Sorry, just for a minute,” he mumbled.  “Is this okay?”

Jamil sighed.  “For a minute, it’s fine.”  His hand rested between his shoulderblades, gentle and firm.  He stroked lightly, soothing.

Kalim nuzzled closer, breathing in the spicy scent of the kitchen lingering on Jamil’s clothes.  Jamil never usually indulged him this much, too busy working, and Kalim hated to make his work harder for him, but he couldn’t worry about that tonight.  He felt needy and unmoored in a way he hadn’t in a long time, like he’d left the floodgates open by mistake.

“Are you all right?” Jamil asked quietly.

“Just being a bit dramatic.”  Kalim tentatively rested a hand on Jamil’s hip, relaxing when he didn’t shoo it away.  “I’ll be fine.  I just need a minute.”  He let out a breath.  “It’s not polite for the host’s son to be the first to leave, but it is… so tempting.”

Jamil’s other hand came up to pet his head.  “Halfway there.  You’re doing very well.”

Kalim relaxed further at the acknowledgment.  Halfway.  Home stretch.  “Will you dance with me tonight?” he asked.

“Dance?”  Jamil sounded puzzled.  “Kalim, you know I’m too busy for that.”

“Not even one?”  Kalim pulled back, beseeching.

Jamil startled and then looked away before he rolled his eyes.  “Maybe one.  Maybe.”

“Yes!”  Kalim pressed back in, stealing the hug he’d been craving all night.  Jamil didn’t push him away.  “I’ll be waiting, so don’t forget, okay?”

“I didn’t actually agree,” Jamil complained lightly, but he continued petting Kalim’s hair, so Kalim knew better than to take his scold too seriously.

“I wish we could stay like this forever,” Kalim admitted.

“Kalim…”  Jamil started to pull away.

He tightened his hold.  “I know, I know, just—a little more.  Sorry, I know, I just…  I usually keep a better handle on this, but I just…  I miss you.”

“You’ve seen me all day,” Jamil pointed out.

Kalim shook his head.  “It’s different.  You know it’s different.”  He curled his hands against Jamil’s back.  “Sometimes, I wish…”

“Mr. Viper, are you here?”

Kalim sighed and let Jamil go.

Jamil shot him a funny look, brow furrowed.  “I’ll be right there.”

“Oh, thank goodness.  We have a situation in the cellar.”  Footsteps hurried off, back to the fray now that their message was delivered.

“Don’t forget, you owe me a dance.”  Kalim forced a smile, but the edges felt wobbly.  Sometimes I wish I’d never been born an Asim.  Sometimes I wish we could just run away from it all.  Sometimes I wish we were free to be whoever we want to be.

Jamil turned his head and brought their faces close together.  Kalim’s thoughts calmed under his steady gaze, not quite mesmerizing yet, but just as relaxing.  “I’ll see what I can do.  Try to have fun.  Dance with your mom if you can.”

Kalim perked up.  That sounded like a good idea.  A great one even.  “Okay.  I’ll try.  I’ll be waiting for you, though, so don’t keep me waiting too long after the latest crisis is averted.”  He rubbed his cheek against Jamil’s as he stole one last embrace.

“Go on then, now that your clothes are all ‘mended,’ hm?”  Jamil gave him a light push toward the door once he let go.

“Oh, right, that was my excuse.  Thanks for reminding me.”  Kalim beamed.  “I’d be lost without you!”

“Yes, yes, now get going.”

Kalim nodded and hurried off back toward the party.  As Jamil had suggested, he made a beeline for his mother, pulling her hand lightly and tugging in the direction of the dance floor.  “Come dance with me,” he begged, giving her his cutest smile.

She laughed.  “What has gotten into you?”  But she went willingly, silk rustling softly with every step.  She allowed him to guide her into a more traditional partnered dance, one she’d taught him when he could barely walk.

“What, a boy isn’t allowed to dance with his mother?” Kalim asked.

“He is,” she said, eyes shrewd even as her smile was warm.  “But you, dearest one, haven’t for quite some time.  Not during a formal banquet like this one.  Are you not feeling well?”

Kalim hesitated.  The music was loud, and there were many other conversations going on around them.  “Father is… growing impatient with me, isn’t he.”  It wasn’t a question.

She sighed, looking away as the dance parted them for several steps.  When they came back together, her expression was more stern and serious than he usually saw it.  “Do you enjoy your father’s work?” she asked.

Kalim wrinkled his nose and shrugged.  “Parts of it?”

She shook her head.  “Kalim, don’t lie to spare my feelings.  The choices I have made for my life need not inform yours.”

“It’s so boring,” Kalim told her earnestly.  “I like talking to so many new and different people, but…”  Meeting new people and being forced to discuss money over and over again, it had already gotten old.

“Mm-hmm.”  His mother gave a graceful turn, her face tilting toward the heavens, her gaze thoughtful.  When she returned to him again, she gave him a conspiratorial look.  “Be a little more selfish.”

“What?”

She smiled.  “You’re a very sweet boy, Kalim, and I am so proud of the man you’re becoming, but you could be a little more selfish about chasing your own happiness.”  She broke form to cup his cheek.  “You make me worry.”

“I don’t mean to,” Kalim tried to apologize.  How could his parents view him so differently?  Did his father truly not know him at all?

“None of that now.”  His mother chided.  “Your decisions will not impact me.  I’ve secured my own future as best I can, so you can choose yours freely.  Do you understand?”

Kalim blinked.  His eyes burned hot with unshed tears.  “I, um, yes.  I understand.”  Whatever power his father held, whatever temper he decided to show, his mother was equipped to handle it.

Be a little more selfish.

“Good.”  His mother twirled, skirts flaring out like a flower, resplendent in the warm lamplight.  “Take your time.  I don’t know what your father wants from all this, but I do know your mother wants most of all for you to be happy.  Whatever that might look like.”

Kalim laughed, shaky and a little off balance.  How different were his mother’s wishes from his father’s, and how much more tempting.  Be a little more selfish.

“Father wants me to consider marrying that man that was sat with us,” Kalim murmured.

She rolled her eyes, shocking a real laugh out of Kalim.  “He has terrible taste in men, I swear.  I asked him to leave it to me, but he always insists he knows best.”  She huffed.  “I’ll try to delay him a while so you can enjoy yourself a little, hm?  And maybe Jamil will turn up with an excuse for you before I’m forced to let him go.”

Kalim twirled her into the final notes of the song.  People applauded as they held their final pose.  “Thank you, Mom.  I love you.”

“I love you, too.”  She ruffled his hair.  “Now, make yourself scarce; he’s heading right for us.”

Kalim did as he was bid with a parting kiss to her cheek, disappearing among the throng of dancers as the next song began.  And then, Kalim danced.

He never stayed in one place for too long, moving to and fro among the other dancers with a smile and a laugh for anyone who stayed near him a little while.  He exchanged pleasantries and compliments and finally started to enjoy himself, even if only a little.

The swirl of silks enveloped him, protecting him for a time from the outside world and its problems.  The only thing that could make it better would be Jamil, but based on the quietly frantic movements of the staff Kalim could see, he suspected it might be a little while yet.

But Jamil promised him a dance, so he would be back at Kalim’s side.  Eventually.  Kalim just had to be patient, and he’d been so patient already.  He could wait for Jamil for as long as it took.  Forever maybe, as long as he could do the waiting at his side.

A wide hand, too wide, caught him by the waist and tugged him into a clumsy flourish.  Kalim nearly groaned aloud.  As he turned, he caught his mother’s apologetic expression.

And he still didn’t remember his name.  Had it started with an A?

Whatever his father had been telling him had made the man bold; he dragged Kalim around the dance floor like he had a right to do it.  Kalim forced a bright smile to hide the way he was gritting his teeth.

“I was actually just about to take a break,” Kalim said lightly.

“Oh, come now,” the man countered, speaking low enough Kalim had to lean closer to hear him at all.  “You’ve been hiding from me all night.  Just one dance.  You dance so beautifully; surely you can’t begrudge me the desire to watch you from up close?”

Kalim forced a laugh, but on his next spin, he searched for Jamil.  Maybe he could get his attention and Jamil could get him out of this?  Maybe the crisis had been averted?  Or maybe someone else would notice he was looking and send for Jamil anyway?

The man’s hands were too possessive by far, firm and almost painful as they caught and held his waist.  Kalim winced, shifting back.

“Am I being too rough?”  The man leered.  “Sweet thing like you, I thought you might prefer it hard.”

And then, a smaller hand found Kalim’s, spinning him out of the man’s arms and into Jamil’s chest.  Kalim let out a relieved sigh, smiling easier.

“Sorry to interrupt, Master,” Jamil said coolly, “but you’re needed elsewhere.”

“Oh, what a shame,” Kalim said.  He shot the man a parting smile from his new position of absolute safety.  “Enjoy the rest of the dance.  There are many talented dancers here tonight; I’m hardly the only one.”

Jamil led him off the dance floor without waiting for a reply.  Normally, Jamil would scold him about being a little rude, but neither of them made any comment about it.  As they walked, Jamil kept holding his hand.

Kalim squeezed it, savoring the connection between them.

Jamil paused in the hallway outside the main hall.  “You aren’t actually needed anywhere,” he admitted.

“I know.”  Kalim squeezed his hand again.  “Thanks for the save.  That guy sucks.”

Jamil was looking down at his feet, brow furrowed.

“Jamil?”

“Can I steal you away?  Has it been long enough?”  Jamil’s eyes met his, intent as ever and just as hypnotic.

Kalim sighed.  “I thought you’d never ask.”

Jamil dragged him down the hall, and the twists and turns faded from Kalim’s mind until he finally registered which room they were in.  All this time, they’d been playing in Kalim’s rooms; for the first time, Jamil locked his own door behind them.

The room smelled spicy, thick with the scent of the incense Jamil preferred.  Kalim breathed it in gladly.

Jamil paced back and forth, restless.  Kalim took a step toward him, and then Jamil was in his space, eyes fever bright as he held his gaze.  Even worried as he was, Kalim could feel muscle memory taking over and sending his thoughts scattering.

“Drop,” Jamil said firmly.

Kalim’s knees gave out, but Jamil caught him and guided him over to sit on the edge of his bed.

“There, that’s better.”  But Jamil didn’t look relaxed.  It didn’t look like things were better at all.  “Maybe I need to go further.  If I push him deep enough, I can make sure he’ll never even think about choosing someone else.”

Someone else?  Kalim shifted, mind struggling to free itself.  What is he talking about?  We’re not going to talk before he hypnotizes me tonight?

“When his father was only looking at women, I could have lived with that.  She’d bear him a couple kids, and we could continue on as we are, maybe a little less intimately, but still close.  But if he’s going to consider men for Kalim, then there’s no reason it couldn’t be me.  No reason it shouldn’t be me.”  Jamil was pacing again, posture tight.

“His father still seems to care about Kalim making a choice in the matter, so I just need to convince him that I’m the only choice.  My power might just be a fun toy, a new amusement, but maybe I can make it a need, maybe then he won’t toss me aside when he’s done with me.”

The words were like ice water over his head; Kalim shot to his feet, heart pounding.  “Jamil, what are you saying?”

“You—You’re resisting me?”

Kalim shook his head.  “I like when you bully me, but this is different.  That—Do you really think that about me?  That I could be so cruel?  So faithless?”  His lip wobbled, and his eyes stung.  “Jamil, that’s so mean.”

Had Kalim given him the impression that he could ever just throw Jamil away like he was nothing?  Had he ever been so dismissive of Jamil?

Jamil flinched.  “No, no, no.  I’m going to fix this.  I’m going to make everything better.”  He grabbed Kalim by the shirt, holding him close, eyes wild.  “The one reflected in your eyes is your master.”

Kalim grabbed his wrist.  “No, Jamil, I want to talk to you about this.  Why would you say something so horrible?  Don’t you know how I feel?”

“Answer when asked.  Bow your head when commanded.  Snake Whisper.”

Kalim gasped as the power crashed over him, stronger than he’d ever felt it.  He shook his head, trying to dispel the seductive pull of Jamil’s magic, but it hurt.  Every shift, every blink, every breath was agony.

“Stop resisting,” Jamil snapped.  “It only hurts when you resist me.  It’ll be okay, Kalim, you’ll see.  I’m going to fix everything.  You just have to let me.”

“N-No!  You can be,” he gasped around his pain, “such an asshole.”  He panted, eyes squeezed shut against a blinding headache, tears streaming down his cheeks.  “Your magic isn’t a game to me,” he forced out.  “And I would never toss you aside, not for anything, not ever.”

“Stop fighting me.”  Jamil held his face between desperate hands.  “Please.”

“I only ever want to dance with you.  I always want to be near you.”  Kalim forced his eyes open, and even meeting Jamil’s didn’t shake his resolve.  “I thought it was obvious.  I thought you knew how I felt.  You always know everything.”

Jamil tried to back away, but Kalim caught him by the front of his shirt and held him close.

“I love you.”

Jamil’s magic shattered, the pain and pressure vanishing instantly.  “What?”

“You’re so stupid.”  Kalim yanked him into a tight hug, crying into his shirt.  “You don’t have to trick me into staying, and you don’t need to—to worry about me marrying someone else.  I don’t want to.  I only want you.”

“Kalim, no, I’m a servant, you can’t—”

“Shut up!”  Kalim pressed closer.  “You don’t get to try to force me to choose you and then tell me I can’t.  That’s not fair.”  He tugged lightly at one of Jamil’s braids.  “I’ve been telling people since I was three years old that I want to marry you.  I am sick of everyone telling me I can’t.  If you didn’t want to keep me, that would be different,” he muttered, “but I know you do, so don’t you do it too.”

Jamil’s shoulders shook under his hands.  “Fuck,” he hissed.  “I hate seeing you dance with other people.  It’s why I always keep myself busy in the kitchen, even when there aren’t emergencies to handle.”

“Dance with me yourself then.”  Kalim let out a quiet breath.  “I told you I’d be waiting for you tonight, and I was.  I was still waiting for you when that guy grabbed me.”

“That guy,” Jamil muttered.  “You can use his name.”

“I’d have to know it first.”

Jamil pulled back, incredulous.  His eyes were red-rimmed and his cheeks were damp.

Kalim had never in their entire lives together seen Jamil cry.

“You don’t know his name?”

Kalim shook his head.  “He sucks.  I didn’t catch his name when he was first introduced, and I meant to ask you for it, but I kept forgetting.  He was so terrible, I didn’t really want to think about him when I didn’t have to.  If Father hadn’t forced our nearness, I would have avoided him all day, but he has connections to some minister or another.”  He waved a dismissive hand.  “I can’t stand him.”

Jamil suddenly laughed, loud and shameless, covering his eyes with his arm.  “I almost—!  And you!  You—You didn’t even know his name!  You hate him!”

Kalim tucked himself back against Jamil and rested his head on his shoulder.  His eyes shut as he let Jamil keep laughing.  Eventually, the hand against Kalim’s back fisted in his shirt.

“The truth is,” Jamil muttered, “I gave you an instruction last night, one I made you forget.  I compelled you to seek me out tonight.  So that was all my doing.”

Kalim pulled back.  “Wait, really?”

Jamil nodded miserably.  “You wouldn’t normally be feeling like this, right?  Your mind is rationalizing my instruction.  I wasn’t sure what that would look like until now.”

“So that’s why I was feeling so needy.”  Kalim pursed his lips.  “You really aren’t listening to me at all, though, are you?”  He sighed.  “Yes, you’re right, I don’t normally feel like this exactly.”  He poked hard at Jamil’s chest.  “Because I compartmentalize how much I wish I could be hanging out with you somewhere else.  It was like I couldn’t tuck how badly I wanted to see you away for the night, when normally I feel all of that and don’t do anything about it.”

“What?”  Jamil frowned.  “You only felt needy?”

“Yeah.  Everything else was normal.”  Kalim rolled his eyes.  “You seriously didn’t notice?  What else did you have me do, not realizing how I feel?”

Jamil looked away.  “And you still like me?  Even after what I’ve done?  What I tried to do?”

“Yes, I still like you.”  Kalim gave an exasperated sigh.  “Why is this so hard to grasp?  I love you.  I’ve always loved you most of all.”

Jamil tore himself away and covered his face with his arms, his back to Kalim.  “Fuck.”

Something tugged at the back of Kalim’s mind, something forgotten, but he couldn’t quite tug it free.  Kalim frowned and crossed his arms.  “You did ask me to do something else, then.  Did it hurt you this much?  Why would you ask me to do something that upsets you?”  Kalim touched his back lightly, but Jamil pulled away.

“I wanted to hear it, but I—”  Jamil broke off, voice cracking.  “You don’t really feel that way for me, I’m sure of it.”

“What?  Still?  How many different ways do I need to say it?” Kalim asked, impatience building.  “Do you think I’d let just anyone hypnotize me?  I’ve never done anything like this before.  I’ve never even dated!  Why do you think my father is in such a hurry to marry me off?”

“What?”

“My father didn’t marry until he was in his late 30s.  I’m only in my early 20s.”  Kalim watched, but at least Jamil wasn’t pulling any further away.  “He would rather I choose my spouse—first spouse, maybe, I guess—but if I won’t even start looking, then he’ll do it for me.  Or that’s what he’s said at least.”

Jamil turned back around.  His eyes were red, and his cheeks were still wet.  “So, why is he so worried?”

“Because he knows I want to marry you.  I haven’t grown out of it like he always hoped.”  Kalim pulled his sleeves over his palms to dab under Jamil’s eyes.  “His son marrying a servant would be bad, I guess.  Which is stupid, by the way.”

Jamil let out a slow breath.  “You’re serious, then.  You really…  You love me, even though I just tried to…”

“But you didn’t!”  Kalim smiled.  “I stopped you before you went too far this time.  And anyway, it’s not like it matters.  You wouldn’t have actually changed anything.”

“What do you mean?” Jamil asked cautiously.

Kalim rolled his eyes.  “Well, you wanted to stop me from choosing someone else and make what we do together a need instead of a passing fancy, right?”

Jamil nodded, brows furrowed.

“Well, it was never a passing fancy for me, and I would never choose to spend my life with someone that isn’t you.”  Kalim shrugged.  “See?  It would be like your instructions from before, just reaffirming things that are already true.”

“I see.”  Jamil looked down, intent on studying their shoes.  “So you…  You really…”

Kalim huffed.  “Let me spell it out for you.  I’m in love with you, and I thought we’d been in a relationship this whole time.  I’m not disloyal, just because I might be a bit of a hedonist, and I have never once wanted to marry anyone but you, not even for a moment.”

Jamil winced.  “I…  I shouldn’t have implied… any of that.  I,” he sighed.  “I find it difficult to believe you when you’re always so shamelessly open about your feelings.  I don’t know why, but it never feels like I can really trust what you tell me.”

“My actions haven’t been enough?  That’s how I know how you feel.”  Kalim sat back down on his bed, tugging Jamil by the hand until he sat beside him.  Kalim linked their fingers together.

“How I feel?” Jamil muttered dubiously.

“Sure.”  Kalim kicked his feet.  “When you overblotted, the thing you wanted most was freedom, so I’ve spent years making sure you don’t feel trapped here with me.  I’ve even given you opportunities to leave, but you always turn them down.”  He smiled.  “So, I know you want to stay with me.”

Jamil stared at him, wide-eyed.  His grip tightened around Kalim’s hand, something nervous in his face, like he wanted to run but couldn’t seem to move.

Kalim continued gently.  “When I’m under your hypnosis, you’re always so careful with me, and the way you touch me and look at me makes my heart skip.  You’re always so worried about crossing a line that I’m not convinced exists, and you check in with me all the time just to make sure I’m still enjoying myself.”  He glanced at Jamil out of the corner of his eye.  “So, I know you care about me and my enjoyment of our time together.”

Jamil looked down, thumb worrying over the back of Kalim’s hand.  He tapped his foot restlessly.

“And then—most recently—you went into a jealous rage just because some guy I think sucks but who my father really approves of put his hands on my waist.”  Kalim smiled, relaxed and easy.  “So, I know you want to keep me all to yourself.”  He laughed a little.  “Which all adds up to say—unless you’re a really good actor—I think you just might like me back.  Just a little,” he teased.

Jamil covered his mouth with his free hand and looked away, hiding again as best he could while he was held in place.

“And there’s that, the way you sometimes hide your face from me when we’re together.”  Kalim leaned into him.  “You get so flustered.  It’s super cute, and you only ever do it around me.”

“Because you keep insisting on saying such embarrassing things!” Jamil complained.  He moved his hand up over his eyes.  “You’re too friendly with everyone.  It drives me crazy.  How was I supposed to know I’m that special?”

Kalim shook his head.  “What are you talking about?  You couldn’t see how badly I was gritting my teeth all day?  Maybe I’m a better actor than I thought.”  He wrinkled his nose.  “But, no, Jamil, being friendly and a good host is one thing, but how often do you think I talk so frankly with people like this?”

Jamil thought for a beat and then two, glancing over at Kalim, chagrined.  “Not often.”

“Almost never,” he corrected.  “I know I make friends more easily than you, but I do still play favorites.  I might have a lot of friends, but I only have one best friend.”  He paused.  “You, by the way, in case that wasn’t obvious.  I’ve always been the most myself when I’m with you.”  Kalim let his smile soften.  “Do you get it now?”

Jamil sighed.  “Yeah.  Probably.  I might need some reminding.”  He looked down at their hands, turning them back and forth.  “I didn’t know you could resist my hypnosis.”

“Me either.”  Kalim squeezed his hand.  “But it was important.  You were being stupid.”

“You could have done that when I was hypnotizing you before I overblotted,” Jamil pointed out.

“I mean, maybe?”  Kalim hesitated.  “I am stronger now than I was then, but…  I guess it didn’t really occur to me to fight it.  I knew you had our best interests in mind.”

“Even if I was using you to do it?”  Jamil frowned.  “I really did want you gone.”

“But never dead.  You were only trying to kick me out of school.  Besides, I already forgave you for that.”  Kalim smiled.

“So if I hypnotized you again right now?” he pressed.

“Instant drop, yeah.  I’m not worried about you anymore.”  Kalim leaned closer.  “Although, you haven’t actually told me how you feel.  And considering how far you were about to go, I think I deserve to hear it once.  Don’t you?”

Jamil sighed, but he was smiling again, however small the pull to his lips.  “I—It’s—hard to put it in words.  But I—I do feel the same way.”

Kalim waited to see if more was forthcoming.  When it wasn’t, he laughed, unable to help himself.  “That’s terrible.  Hardly even a confession at all!  We’ll just have to practice.  We’ll get you there, though, don’t worry.”  He kissed Jamil’s cheek and was about to stand up when Jamil pulled him back, hands on his face.

Their lips slotted together easily, warm and soft and perfect.  Kalim let his eyes shut on a sigh, winding his arms around Jamil’s neck.  Even if his words were pretty weak, as always, Jamil’s actions spoke his piece with perfect eloquence.

Between one kiss and the next, Jamil tipped Kalim backward, lifting him the rest of the way onto the bed.  Jamil’s pillow smelled like the oils he used for his hair.  Kalim breathed it in, and then Jamil was back over him and licking into his mouth.

His hair fell like a curtain blocking the rest of the room from view, soft against Kalim’s face and neck.

“Please tell me you don’t want to go back to that stupid party,” Jamil said against his cheek.

Kalim laughed.  “When you’re finally kissing me?  No way.”  He hooked a leg around Jamil’s thighs, sliding his fingers into the hair at the nape of Jamil’s neck.  “I can dance with you next time.”

With a roll of his eyes and a soft smile, Jamil bent his head further to keep kissing him.  Their tongues met, Jamil licking into his mouth until Kalim thought he might go crazy.

Kalim shifted his legs apart to make room for Jamil between them.  Jamil’s thigh slotted between his legs, brushing up against his already hard dick.

Jamil pulled back and looked down.  He licked his lips.  “That was fast.”

Kalim huffed.  “And whose fault is that?  I know I’ve been pretty happy with just the hypnosis this far, but I do still want to come, you know?”

Jamil laughed.  “Oh, I bet.  You really haven’t touched yourself at all?”

He shook his head.  “You said I wasn’t allowed.”

“You weren’t.  Maybe today I might let you.  If you’re good.”  His smirk was mean, but it sent a shiver up Kalim’s spine.  “Will you be good for me, Kalim?”

“So good.  Please.”

“We’ll see about that.”  Jamil held his face again.  “One more choice.  Do you want to have sex while you’re fully awake, or do you want to have sex where I hypnotize you?”

Kalim laughed shakily.  “Either way, you’ll have sex with me?”

Jamil nodded.  “That’s right.”

“Then hypnotize me, too.”  Kalim met his eyes.  “You’re still worried, right?  Lemme prove that I meant every word.”

Jamil startled, but it quickly evened out into a chagrined smile.  “Guess I can’t hide anything from you, huh?”  He traced his thumb under Kalim’s eye.  “The one reflected in your eyes is your master,” Jamil murmured, low and warm.

Kalim sighed, thoughts already scattering.  Surrounded by Jamil’s scent, pinned beneath him, with nowhere to look but Jamil’s eyes…  Kalim almost laughed; there was nowhere for him to go but down.

“Answer when asked.  Bow your head when commanded.”  Jamil smiled.  “Drop, Kalim.”

Kalim sighed happily, eyes falling shut as his body went limp.  “Yes, Master.”

Master groaned.  “Fuck, that never gets old.  Out of ten, how deep are you?”

“Mm, thirty.”  Maybe a little more, but he’d already answered, so he kept that to himself.

“Thirty?  With just your usual induction?”

“Yes, Master.”

“Why?” Master sounded adorably baffled.

“Master is on top of me in Master’s room, and Master’s smell is filling my head even more than usual.”  Kalim took a deep breath in.

“If you could describe how you feel in one word…?” Master prompted.

“Safe.”

Master let out a shaky breath.  “Oh, Kalim.”  His hands pet his face and hair, gentle and affectionate.  “Open your eyes.”

Kalim looked up at Master, and he seemed to be glowing or maybe sparkling.  Kaleidoscopic colors bloomed in and out around him.  Kalim almost reached out to touch them, but moving would take too much effort, and he was so relaxed.

“Fuck, that’s hot.”  Master shuddered.  “I hardly know where to start,” he admitted softly.  “I’ve thought a lot about this, but…  Tell me, Kalim, what do you want most?”

“Touch me, Master,” Kalim sighed.  “Please.”

“Keep talking.  I want to hear you,” Master coaxed.  “What else?”

Kalim wanted to move, wanted to pull Master closer, but his body refused to respond.  “I want to come.”

Master undid his sash and slid his hands under his shirt.  He stroked up and down his sides and chest.  “It’s feeling more intense now, isn’t it?” Master asked, voice low and lilting.  “How badly you need it, what you’d give to get permission.”

And it was.  Kalim couldn’t move, not even to squirm.  His dick was trapped in his pants, and Master refused to give him any pressure.  “I want you to fuck me, like you said you would,” Kalim begged.  “I tried not to think about it, but I want it so bad.  I wanna feel you inside me, splitting me open.”

Master groaned quietly.  “Fuck, Kalim.”

“Master, please,” he whined.  “Kiss me again.”

Master leaned down and sealed their mouths together.  Kalim couldn’t reciprocate well, but something about that only made it better.  He was at Master’s mercy, unable to do anything more or less than take whatever he was willing to give.  Kalim’s head spun as the scent of his master and the taste on his tongue forced his eyes closed, thoughts scattering in their wake.

“Kalim,” Master murmured, “what do you feel for me?”

“I love you,” Kalim breathed.  “I love you, I love you, I love you.  I wanna stay with you forever.  I want you to sit with me at every banquet and sleep beside me in our bed, and I want to spend every day at your side.”

Master sighed softly.  “Such a sweet puppet,” he praised.  “I want that too,” he admitted.  “I want you to be mine.”

“I am,” Kalim insisted.  “Yours, always yours, forever and ever.  I love you so much.  Please, Master.”

Master kissed him again.  “Put your hands above your head, wrists together.”  When Kalim obeyed, he cooed, “That’s perfect.  Good boy.”

Kalim flushed with the praise.

Master sat higher on his chest and wrapped a hand around both his wrists.  “I’m going to tie you up,” Master explained.  “Right here.”  He squeezed his wrists.  “Can you feel the rope, silky smooth against your skin?”

Kalim shivered.  “Yes, Master.  It feels cool.”  It pulled back and forth across his wrists in a delicious tease.

Master made his first loop.  “Can you feel that?  Not too tight, but not too loose, either.  I’m going to give you a little room to struggle if you want, but not so much give you can free yourself.  Can you feel that?  Give a little tug for me.”

Kalim tugged at the restraints, moaning softly at the feel.  Pinned and trapped beneath Master, bound in place for him to use as he pleased…  “It feels good, Master.  Not too tight at all.”

“Good boy.”  Master’s smile was wicked when Kalim looked up at him, and still he was surrounded by those kaleidoscopic colors.  “I’m going to tie you to the headboard, so your hands will be able to move side to side, but you can’t lower them.”

He raised his hands higher to tie the rope above Kalim’s head.  Kalim could feel that he was stuck fast to the headboard.  He would need Master to free him before he could leave the bed.

“Give that a tug for me.  Does it feel secure, puppet?  Is it tight enough for you?” Master coaxed.

Kalim nodded, tugging side to side.  “Yes, Master.  I’m really at your mercy now.”

“And you like that?” Master asked.

“I love it,” Kalim corrected.  “I love being Master’s doll, his to command and play with, dress and undress, pamper and punish…”  He moaned.

Master kissed him again.  “Fuck, Kalim, there’s so much I want to do with you, to you.”

“Yes,” Kalim sighed, “yes, yes, yes!”

Master undressed him, quick and efficient, doing something funny with his arms that Kalim’s muddled thoughts couldn’t follow to get his shirt off.  He kissed his way down Kalim’s chest, his mouth hot against Kalim’s skin.  He paused at Kalim’s hip to suck hard at the sensitive skin just beside his hipbone.

Kalim whined and squirmed beneath him, the sensation enough to inspire movement.  Master bit down lightly.

“Hold still, Kalim.”  Master paused.  “In fact, when I snap my fingers, just for tonight, you won’t be able to help yourself.  You will be completely unable to move until I snap them again.  Do you understand?”

“Y-Yes, Master.”  Kalim moaned.  “Please, more!”

Master snapped his fingers, and Kalim’s hips and legs came to an absolute stop.  Kalim tried to shift, tried to move, but there was nothing he could do.

“Oh, good boy,” Master purred.  “That’s perfect.”  He pulled back and stripped Kalim bare before arranging him to his liking.  Kalim’s thoughts spiralled down and away again, heart pounding and dick aching as Master posed his naked body, arms still tied above his head, and legs spread wide for Master to lie between.

“Master, please,” Kalim begged.

“Don’t worry, puppet.”  Master stroked his hands up both of Kalim’s thighs.  “I take good care of my things.”

That thought held firm at the front of Kalim’s mind, powerful and compelling and comforting.  Master did take good care of his things, and Kalim counted as one of them now.  Kalim was one of Master’s things.  His puppet, his plaything, and whatever he wanted Kalim to be next.

“What I want from you next,” Master said with a warm amusement lacing his tone, “is for you to come back up for me.  But when you do, you’ll still freeze and unfreeze when I snap, and your hands will still be bound above your head.”

Kalim would nod if he were allowed to move.  “Yes, Master.”

Master began counting Kalim back up, slow and steady, until Master became Jamil in his mind again.  Kalim’s thoughts cleared, and when he opened his eyes again, Jamil looked as handsome as ever, even without the strange glow he took on while Kalim was deeply hypnotized.

“Hi, Jamil.”

Jamil snorted.  “Hello, Kalim.”

Kalim tried to wriggle or shift his weight, but he couldn’t, still stuck fast.  His dick throbbed.  “Jamil, I—fuck—I still can’t move.”

Jamil grinned, wide and devilish.  “No?”  He snapped his fingers.  “How about now?”

Kalim moaned as his body relaxed and responded to him again.  “Jamil, please,” he begged.

“Do me a favor,” Jamil said.  His eyes were so dark and compelling, Kalim could almost fall back down just from looking, he thought.  “Look up.”

“Up where?” Kalim asked, casting his gaze toward the ceiling and then above his head, where—where he wasn’t bound by anything at all.  “Oh,” he breathed.  “I kind of wondered where you got the rope, but I…  There’s no rope.”

“There’s no rope,” Jamil agreed.  “Try to free your hands for me.”

“Free them from what?” Kalim asked.  But when he pulled, they were still held fast.  He couldn’t separate them or lower them.  He may as well be bound with real rope for all the give it left him.  He licked his lips, squirming beneath Jamil, hot beneath his skin.

“Even awake,” Jamil murmured, “you obey me.  Even aware of the tricks and traps I’ve laid, you submit.”

Kalim rocked his hips upward, seeking friction, and he was stopped by a snap of Jamil’s fingers as his body obeyed again, automatic and devastatingly effective.

“Master, please fuck me, please,” he begged.

“Good boy, Kalim.”  Jamil opened the nightstand beside the bed and pulled out a small bottle of lube.  “First things first.  It’s been a month since you touched yourself, so I’m going to make sure you’re loose.  I don’t want this to hurt.”

Kalim babbled eagerly.  “Yes, please, anything, just please, stop teasing me!”

Jamil shook his head and cupped Kalim’s cheek.  “Kalim, I will never stop teasing you, not when you respond so wonderfully to it.”

But whatever he said, he mercifully slicked up his fingers and slid them behind Kalim’s dick.  He rubbed firm circles around Kalim’s hole until Kalim thought he might sob with it, slick and hot and throbbing, until he finally let a single finger slip inside.

Jamil groaned.  “Fuck, you feel—”  He shuddered.  “You feel perfect, Kalim, so perfect.”

Kalim couldn’t speak, too keyed up and overwhelmed to find words for how good Jamil’s hands felt, firm and possessive as they worked him over.  Jamil focused his attention on the tight ring of muscle, massaging until it was slick and relaxed.

Jamil bent Kalim’s legs up toward his chest until Kalim was even more exposed, and still frozen, he was forced to hold the position, unable to shift or hide himself at all from Jamil’s watchful eyes.

“Gods, look at you.”  He let out a quiet breath, like he couldn’t believe it.

And then, slow, methodical, he finally took his own clothes off.  Jamil actually folded them, one by one, as he set them aside, until Kalim felt like he might shake out of his skin.

“Do you remember what I said before, Kalim?” Jamil asked.  He settled back between his thighs, hard cock drawing almost all of Kalim’s attention.

He licked his lips.  “When?”

“When are you allowed to come?” Jamil asked.

Kalim moaned.  “W-When you fuck me.”

“Right.”  Jamil stroked his hips.  “As soon as I’m inside you, you have permission to come, but I’m not going to stop fucking you until I come.”

“Yes, Master.”

Jamil groaned.  “Fuck, that never gets old.”  He shifted his hips forward, guiding his cock until it slid back and down, catching on Kalim’s rim.  “What do you think, Kalim?  Should I make you come once the tip is in?  Just the tip should be fine, right?”

“Don’t you dare,” Kalim gasped.  “Fuck me properly!”

Jamil laughed.  “Is that any way to talk to your Master?  I thought you said you’d be good?”

Kalim licked his lips.  “Is that any kind of reward to encourage good behavior from your hedonist of a puppet?” he countered.

“You don’t think you can come twice?” Jamil asked.

Kalim shook his head.  “Try that next time.  I wanna get to feel you properly our first time.”

“Next time, huh?”  Jamil smiled, eyes softening.  “Yeah, all right.  I suppose I can save some teasing for next time.”  He rocked his hips forward and sank inside.

Kalim felt distinctly like his breath had been knocked out of him.  Jamil’s cock was hot and thick, filling him up perfectly.  Kalim’s toys might be bigger, but they didn’t compare to the slick slide of Jamil’s body against his own, the intimate press of skin against skin, the way Jamil’s mouth found his just after he gave a snap of his fingers.

Kalim wrapped his legs around Jamil at once and kissed him back fervently.  “Feels so good,” he panted.  “Fuck, Jamil, I love you so much.  Don’t stop!”

Jamil kissed him again and again, hands cradling his face even as his hips maintained a delicious rhythm.  Kalim rocked in time, meeting him thrust for thrust, thoughts fading into a perfect static even without any hypnosis.

Jamil’s hand closed around his dick, firm and perfect, and that was all it took.  A few thrusts more, and Kalim was toppling over the edge with a cry, body tensing and writhing with the force of his orgasm, before falling slack beneath Jamil.

Jamil ducked his head against Kalim’s shoulder.  “You’re perfect,” he murmured into his skin.  “I’m never letting you go.  You’re mine, Kalim.”

“Yes,” Kalim sighed.  “I’m all yours, Jamil.”

Jamil lifted his head, eyes feverish but just as hypnotic as ever.  Lethargic and relaxed, Kalim’s mind began to drift immediately.  “Drop, puppet.”

Kalim’s eyes rolled back with a low moan.  Jamil’s hands tightened against his face, and with a few more thrusts, he came with a quiet groan, muffled into Kalim’s shoulder.

They stayed like that for an amount of time that slipped like sand through Kalim’s fingers, and then Jamil ‘untied’ him, fingers massaging his wrists and arms and hands as he lowered them back to Kalim’s chest.

Kalim sighed happily.

Jamil kissed his temple, his cheek, his mouth.  “One,” he said softly, and Kalim’s thoughts stirred obediently.  “Two.  Three.”  Jamil kept his count steady and even, his voice soft, but not like he planned to trick Kalim back down again.  “Four.  Five.”  Jamil kissed him again.  “Wake up, Kalim.”

Kalim wrapped his arms around Jamil and drew him down into another kiss.  “Wow.”  He kissed him again.  “That felt amazing.  Please don’t make me wait another month before we do that again.”

Jamil laughed.  “I won’t.  That was okay then?  Worth the wait?”

Kalim held on tighter, rubbing his cheek against Jamil’s chest as he snuggled close.  “More than okay.  I can’t believe you tied me up!  With my own brain!”

Jamil pet his hair.  “You’re a very talented hypnotic subject,” he praised.  “You have a very strong imagination.”

Kalim preened.  “What about you?  Did you like it?”

“I might be ruined for normal sex forever.”  Jamil ran fingers through his hair, massaging his scalp.  “The look on your face when you drop back into trance for me is—extremely erotic.”

“Is it?”  Kalim licked his lips.  “You should film me sometime.”

“What?” Jamil tried to pull away, so Kalim clung tighter.

“What?  I wanna see what I look like.  I’ve never gotten to see it for myself.  I just know how hot you look while you’re messing with my head.”  Kalim sighed happily, and then his jaw cracked on a yawn.

“You’re such a pervert,” Jamil muttered.

For being the one who’d just hypnotized Kalim and driven him to new and incredible heights of pleasure, Jamil sounded adorably prudish.  Kalim snorted.  “Pot, kettle.”

“Yeah, yeah.”  He tapped at Kalim’s shoulder.  “Let me up.  I want to clean you up before we fall asleep like this.”

Kalim pouted.  “Oh, I guess that’s a good idea.”  He shifted his hips, aware again of how slick and wet he was.  Jamil’s come was still inside him.  “We can’t just plug me up and leave it for morning?”

Jamil covered his face and made an incoherent noise.  Kalim supposed that was a no.  At least, for now.  There was time.  Kalim would convince him next time.

He yawned again.

By the time Jamil had them both cleaned up, and by the time he’d climbed back into bed, pulling the comforter over them both, Kalim’s eyes felt too heavy to keep open.

“I love you,” he mumbled against Jamil’s chest.  “I love you so much.”

“I, um.”  Jamil’s hand tightened against Kalim’s back.

“You can say it when you’re ready.”  Kalim squeezed him once more.  “No rush.”

Jamil kissed the crown of his head, hands gentle and adoring.  Safe and sound, wrapped up in the love of his life, Kalim understood what his mom meant.  If being selfless and putting the family first meant giving up Jamil, giving up this, he’d never be able to do it.

This, he thought as he was drifting off, might be the happiest I’ve ever been.  I never want this dream to end.

Chapter Text

Kalim blinked awake slowly, warmer and comfier than ever.  When he looked up, Jamil was sitting up against the headboard with his magical pen in one hand as he did his hair for the day, eyes on his phone in the other.

Kalim pressed his face into his bare hip with an irrepressible smile.  “Good morning,” he mumbled.

Jamil ruffled his hair, all affection, pen carefully kept from knocking against him.  “Good morning.  It’s a little earlier than I usually wake you up, which is good.  I hoped to get you back to your room before too many people are up and about.”

“Oh, yeah,” Kalim yawned into his hip.  “I guess I probably should have slept in my own room.”

Jamil’s hand tightened in his hair.  “I don’t think I would have let you if you tried.  I would have taken us there in the first place if I could stomach it.”

Kalim peeked up at him, grin stretching across his face.  “Oh?  And why is that?”

Jamil narrowed his eyes and glared down at him.  “Because I wanted you to be in my room when I finally made you mine.”

Kalim nuzzled closer with a happy sigh.  “Such a romantic.”

Jamil huffed.  “Come on, no more stalling.  You’re too comfy for your own good.  Honestly, to be really safe, we probably should have gotten up for this an hour ago.”

Kalim shrugged, but obeyed happily enough.  Once he was dressed, Jamil used magic to change what he was wearing.  Kalim’s attempts at the same spell were always too flashy for everyday use.

If Jamil wanted to keep what happened between them quiet, Kalim was happy to continue doing so for a little while longer.  He wasn’t ashamed of Jamil, and he didn’t intend to hide their relationship forever, but there was value in discretion.  Especially with his father home and angling for him to marry.

They were nearly at Kalim’s rooms when a servant approached them and bowed quickly.  He glanced nervously between them.  “Your father requests your presence in his office, Master Kalim.  Alone.”

Kalim glanced at Jamil.  “Um.  Okay.  Sounds like breakfast will have to wait for after?”

“I’ll have something made for you,” Jamil promised.

“Thank you, Jamil.”  Kalim turned around and changed course.  There was more he wanted to say, but anything else would have to wait for when they were alone again.

Kalim focused on keeping his breathing even on his walk.  He wouldn’t rush, and he wouldn’t assume the worst.  He was the heir.  There were certain things he was allowed to do.  Allowances could and had been made before.

He’d done nothing wrong.

Too soon, Kalim knocked on his father’s office door.

“Enter.”

Kalim closed the door behind himself and stood a careful distance from his father’s desk, arms folded behind his back.  “You asked for me, Father?”

His father finished signing something and set his fountain pen down slowly.  He folded his hands in front of himself and stared, stern and disapproving, at Kalim.  “Where did you disappear to last night?”

“Disappear?”  Kalim shook his head.  “I wasn’t feeling well, that’s all.”

“Do not think me a fool, Kalim.”  His father frowned, lines etched deeply into his forehead.  “I know you left with Jamil, and you did not return to your own rooms last night.  Considering how you feel about him, and the way you were acting last night, the only conclusion is an obvious one.”

Kalim tightened his hands behind his back.  “What is this really about, Father?”

“You were unspeakably rude to an honored guest.  You and your mother both.  I cannot imagine what he could have done to earn your disdain, but I will not stand for such disrespect.  Not from you, and not from your mother.”  His voice rose as he spoke, ending on a sharp bark.

“Rude?  I was perfectly courteous.”  Kalim frowned.  “What did I do that was so disrespectful?”

His father stood and turned to the window, arms folded behind his back in a match to Kalim’s.  “You spurned Azlan in favor of bedding a servant.  There is no greater insult to a man of his standing.”

Kalim’s eyes widened.  “Spurned—!” he choked, unable to repeat the rest.  “Father, I had no intention of ever entertaining his suit, not for a second.  My feelings for Jamil have nothing to do with your guest.”

“He doesn’t see it that way, and neither do I.”

“Excuse me?”  Kalim took a half step back.  “And how is it any of his business what I do in private?”

His father turned.  “Because we were already in talks.”

Kalim’s blood ran cold.  “Talks?  About what?”

“Kalim, don’t play dumb.  You know the answer to that already.”  He pinched the bridge of his nose.  “You knew this was coming.  I’ve given you ample opportunity to choose someone for yourself.”

He could appeal to his father’s love for him, to his decency, to his desire to see Kalim happy, remind him of how young Kalim still was, but he knew none of those things would sway him once his mind was made up.  But to think, there was a price for which selling his own heir could be considered good business.

“What did he offer you?” Kalim asked flatly.

“Hm?”

“How much am I being sold for?” he clarified.

“Kalim, don’t be that way.  You’re not being sold,” his father said simply, scolding.  “More importantly, it is long past time that you grew up.  No more childish reliance on your comfort object.  I should have put a stop to this years ago, but I was too soft on you.  I see that now.”

Kalim took a step back.  “What are you talking about?”

“Jamil.”  His father’s voice was flat, disinterested.  “I don’t know how long this has been going on for, and I don’t care.  It ends now.  Jamil’s a smart boy.  He’ll understand.”

“No!  That isn’t fair,” Kalim protested.

“Fair?  Would it be more fair for Jamil to be punished for your mistakes?”  His father leaned across his desk.  “Jamil knows his place, even if you seem to have forgotten yours.  If I need to do this for you…”

Kalim’s heart raced, and his hands shook at his sides.  “No!  No, I—Don’t—At least let me be the one to—I’ll do it, I swear, just don’t—”  Don’t send him away.  At least let him be my friend.

“I can see you’re remorseful, so I’ll permit it.  Do not abuse my lenience.  I expect to see this taken care of immediately.”  His father picked back up whatever he was working on and his pen.  “Dismissed.”

Kalim bowed and fled the room.  As soon as the door was shut behind him, tears began to fall.  By the time he was safe in his own room, his legs gave out.

“Kalim?” Jamil exclaimed.

Kalim wailed, too miserable to speak.  Jamil helped him to his feet, hushing him gently and leading him over to his loveseat.  Breakfast was on the coffee table, as promised, but Kalim doubted he’d be able to stomach anything all day.

It took a while to explain between hiccuping sobs, but eventually, Kalim haltingly relayed everything his father had said.  And then he got back to crying.

Jamil pet his hair and arms and back, still making absentminded comfort noises, but Kalim could tell he was thinking hard.

Kalim sniffled miserably, lip wobbling as Jamil distractedly dried his eyes with his sleeve before pressing a tissue box into his hands.

“What are we going to do?” Kalim asked.  He blew his nose.

Jamil’s expression was serious, but not at all despairing.  “That depends on you.”

“Huh?”

Jamil shrugged.  “The easiest option is we use my Unique Magic on your father.”

“What?”  Kalim frowned.

“That said, he’s extremely strong willed.  I’d probably be redoing the spell for the rest of his life.”  Jamil wrinkled his nose.  “Doable, but not ideal.  And I suspect you’d rather we not take that route?”

Kalim shook his head.  “Is there anything else we can do?”

Jamil leaned closer.  “Exactly how attached are you to your position as the Asim heir?”

Kalim blinked.  “I…  What do you mean?”

“As long as you’re the heir, even if we get around this now, some way or another, it could always happen again.  There are always more Azlans and Catarinas for your father to throw at you.  But if you weren’t the heir, your father would have no say or control over how you live your life.”  Jamil leaned in and took Kalim’s hands.  “What kind of life do you want to live?”

Kalim blinked.  “If I wasn’t the heir?”  He squeezed Jamil’s hands desperately.  “Is that allowed?” he asked, voice dropping to something small and fragile.  The idea had never once occurred to him, but now that it had, it almost seemed too good to be true.

Jamil nodded.  “It won’t be easy, but it can be done.”

“What happens if I…  If I’m not…?”

“We leave together.  We’ll lose access to your father’s limitless wealth, and we’ll need to provide for ourselves.”  Jamil smiled.  “I’ve got some money tucked away to start us out, but we won’t want to rely on that forever.”

Kalim blinked.  “You—Were you planning for this?”

Jamil waved a hand.  “Not important right now.  Are we staying, or are we leaving?”

Us.  We.  Kalim felt tears gather in his eyes again.  “You’ll really come with me?”

“You were right last night.  I want to stay by your side.”  Jamil gave him a determined smile.  “If you want that too, I won’t let them separate us without a fight.”

Kalim threw his arms around his neck, clinging with all he had.  “Leaving,” he answered into Jamil’s shoulder.  “I want to stay with you.  I told you, you’re the one I want to marry.  I love you.”

Jamil pulled back and cupped Kalim’s cheek, smile smug and a little cheeky.  “Do you trust me?”

Kalim nodded.  “Yes, of course.”

“Then leave this to me.”  He laughed, a little rueful.  “You remember how all I wanted was my freedom?”

Kalim nodded.

“To answer your question, I’ve been planning out how to run away since I was about twelve.”  Jamil held Kalim’s face between his hands, petting him slowly, reflexively, until Kalim’s eyes threatened to close.  “At first, I planned to go alone, but after I overblotted, after Styx, after Malleus, I…  I added you to the plan.  Just in case.”

“You did?”

“I did.”

For once, Kalim couldn’t find words strong enough to express his relief, his love, his hope.  Instead, he took a page from Jamil’s book and kissed him, chaste and desperate both.

Jamil held his face between gentle hands.  “I won’t leave you behind, but this won’t be easy.  This isn’t the worst case I planned for, but it isn’t good, either.  We’ll need to be careful, and I’ll need to speak with your father.”  He let out a soft breath.  “And after this, I might have less direct access to you, but we’ll see what we can do with what we have.”

He kissed him again, grateful beyond speech.  “Just tell me what you need me to do,” Kalim agreed.

“For now?  Sit tight here.  Don’t go anywhere.”

“Okay,” he nodded.  “I can do that.”

“Good.  Leave the rest to me.”  Jamil grinned, small and quick, his eyes sharp as obsidian.  “I’ll be back soon with more information.  Eat your breakfast, and after I get back, we’ll keep to your normal routine.  That’s what I would have told you to do if we’d decided to submit, so that should be our holding pattern for now.”

“And if it gets too hard to hide what we’re doing?” Kalim checked.

“Tell me, and I’ll take care of it one way or another.”  Jamil kissed him again, long and lingering, cradling the back of his head.  “Be good for me.  I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

Kalim nodded and picked up his breakfast plate obediently before waving him off.  And then, Jamil was gone, off to face his father and the possibility of their total destruction single-handed.  Jamil might just be Kalim’s hero on top of everything else.

What kind of life do you want to live?

Kalim ate slowly and mulled the question over, but no matter how many angles he tried, he kept coming up with the same answer: any kind, so long as it was one spent with Jamil.  With nothing else to do, Kalim hoped against hope that Jamil really did have this all figured out.

Chapter Text

Jamil knocked lightly on the Master’s office door.  He took a slow deep breath and schooled his face into one of his better masks: perfect indifference, not too far from boredom.

Another whim, another inconvenience, another of Kalim’s messes to clean up, he reminded himself.

“Enter,” Master al-Asim called.

Jamil stepped inside, head preemptively bowed.  “Sir, I wished to speak with you about last night and this morning.”

He set his papers down and waved Jamil forward.  “In truth, I was expecting you.  By all means,” he agreed magnanimously.

Master al-Asim was a tall and broad man, stern with a foreboding presence, at least when among staff.  With guests and clients, the man was as gregarious and affable as even Kalim at his absolute brightest and sweetest.

His hair and neatly maintained beard were greying now, but it was a scant change from the striking platinum of his youth.  He was truly a handsome and charismatic man, beyond what he gained from being rich and powerful, and he carried himself like his influence on others was nothing more or less than a fact.

“I wished to apologize for what was never intended to be anything other than a momentary indiscretion, nothing more or less than entertaining an adolescent whim.”  He kept his head bowed, but he could see the corner of Master al-Asim’s mouth tilt upward.

Hook, line, and sinker.  And Kalim wondered why Jamil still refused to openly behave as his friend when they were home.

Jamil continued, “If I knew he was already spoken for, I would not have indulged him.  I knew you intended him to marry, but I did not realize your plans had already progressed to the point of negotiations.  Had I known, of course I would have done more to prepare Kalim for the change.”

“Raise your head, Jamil; you are not to blame for my son’s childish mistakes.”  Master al-Asim was smiling, certain victory glowing behind his dark eyes.  “I don’t intend to punish you for his bad behavior, not when you have shown us nothing but loyalty.”

Jamil bowed again, but only briefly.  “Thank you, sir.  You honor me.”  He hesitated, as if he were weighing the consequences of asking his question directly, as if he didn’t already know he intended to press.  “If you do not intend to punish me, may I ask if I am to be relocated?  Or am I to continue my work with Kalim?  It would be difficult for me to train a replacement on such short notice, but not impossible.”

Master al-Asim leaned on one hand.  “If you speak with my son and convince him of the suitability of the match, you may of course continue your work in your current position.  If my son refuses to be swayed from his feelings for you, I’m afraid we will need to consider reassignment.”

“Yes, sir.  I’ll need time, but I’ll see what I can do to change his mind.”  He bowed again.

“Of course you will.”  He turned back to his papers.  “You’re such a smart boy, Jamil.  I knew you would understand what needed to be done.  You’ve always been so reliable.  If only my son could be more like you.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“You’re dismissed.”

Jamil bowed and backed out of the room, closing the door silently behind himself.  He kept his face bored as he stopped off in his own room to pick up a few things they’d be needing for their plan to move forward.

You’re a smart boy.  You understand.

Jamil lifted the loose tile he’d pried free when he was 13, and rifled through the small backpack stashed inside for the first pair in a series of burner phones.

He needed to get Kalim’s passport and birth certificate, as well as a few other important documents if they could manage it, vaccination records and so on.  They’d need to start packing tonight, and while they did that, Jamil would prepare the last bit of paperwork to finish things off and ensure no one could take Kalim back against his will.

He pulled the small file folder out of the niche as well before closing it back up.  He hid the folder in one of his larger binders, kept in use for exactly this reason, long past the time he needed so many written reminders to keep up with Kalim’s schedule and needs.

If only my son could be more like you.

Kalim was nothing like Jamil, and that was a good thing.  Kalim was kind and gentle.  He was generous and trusting, no matter how many times the world tried to force him to harden or freeze over.

Kalim was the best person Jamil knew, and Jamil would protect him from this if it was the last thing he did.  This was exactly what all his hard work was for.

Jamil was smart, and he understood perfectly.  It really was a shame that no one but Kalim had taken the time to understand him.  If they had, they would have known Jamil only had one course of action ahead of him.

His only regret was that he couldn’t be here to see the look on Master al-Asim’s face at the exact moment he realized how much he’d lost and to whom.  Jamil grinned to himself, heart racing.  A lowly servant was going to steal away the young master, heir to the Asim empire, and there was nothing anyone could do to get in their way.  Jamil wouldn’t let them, and he refused to lose.

It had been a long time since he threw a match, and he wasn’t about to fall back into bad habits now.

Jamil shook himself and refocused.  So much to do, and so little time.  At least Kalim had shown remorse and an intent to cooperate.  If they’d locked Kalim up and kept him away from Jamil, this could have been much more difficult.

Jamil walked back to Kalim’s rooms, exchanging polite nods with other members of staff, all of whom were staring at him with clear apprehension.  Nothing in the world moved faster than a rumor mill.

Kalim jumped to his feet as Jamil stepped back inside, closing the door and locking it behind him.

“We’ll need to be careful not to be seen together in private too much.  We have a bit of leeway, but not a lot.”  Jamil pressed one of the burner phones into Kalim’s hands.  “Press and hold 1, and it will call me.  Keep it on you, just in case.”

Kalim nodded.  “How long have you had this?”

“Not important.”  Jamil pocketed the second phone and pulled the file folder back out.  “We have two available roads ahead of us to make sure your father can’t take you back by force.”  He placed the two forms, both mostly filled out, side by side.

“Power of attorney,” Kalim read quietly, “and… application for marriage license?”  His head snapped up, eyes wide.  “Jamil?”

“They accomplish the same thing.  Instead of your father having default control if you’re deemed unstable or unwell, that power would transfer to me.  Either through power of attorney or…”

“Or as my husband,” Kalim breathed.  “Jamil, when did you fill this out?  You—You didn’t know I loved you back until last night.”

“This is practicality, not romance,” Jamil insisted.  “I filled these out after you turned 18.”

Kalim looked down.  “You say that, but I don’t know, I’m feeling a little swept off my feet.”  When he looked up, his smile was gentle and embarrassed, but untainted by fear or sadness for the first time since he spoke with his father.  “I always knew you were amazing, but you’re kind of my hero right now.”

Jamil shook his head.  “Which am I filing?  Or, I suppose I could always file both.  Both might be better.”

Kalim picked up the marriage license application.  “This says we both need to be present to turn it in.”

“Yes.  Luckily, we can proceed with the marriage in the same day, provided we have witnesses.”  Jamil bit his lip.  “It might be best to leave immediately after we file the marriage certificate.”

“Okay.  How soon can we be ready?” Kalim set the paper down.  “And what do I need to do next?”

“I need a few days to get some final affairs in order.  You don’t need to do anything yet, just keep to your routine, like I said.  Tonight, you’ll pack your keepsakes.  Leave nothing behind you want to keep or can’t replace.”  Jamil would handle picking up his documents, and there were a few other arrangements he needed to make before that.

“What about clothes?”

“Don’t worry about that just yet.”  Jamil pulled a pen out of his pocket and finished the last blanks on both forms (ages and so on).  They would need to be signed before witnesses at the clerk’s office, so they would handle both forms on the day they left.  “I have a lot of errands to run, so I need you to stay here and be visibly sad.  Mope somewhere your father won’t bother you.”

Kalim nodded.  “Okay.”  He let out a breath.  “You really do have a plan.”

“I always do.”

Kalim caught his hand and smiled shyly.  “You’ll seriously let me marry you?”

Jamil blushed.  “It’s practical,” he complained.  “Spouses have rights that supplant familial rights.”

“Mm-hm, sure.”  He squeezed Jamil’s hand.  “Does this mean I get to be Kalim Viper?”

Jamil’s eyes went wide.  Kalim Viper.  Not—Not the other way around, like he’d always—of course, if Kalim was leaving his family, he would—but Jamil hadn’t stopped to think about—

Kalim Viper.

“Jamil?”

“I have to—I have a lot to do.  I need to go.”  Jamil turned around, but didn’t quite let go of Kalim’s hand.  “You need to stop saying things like that until we’re out of here.”

“Do I?”

Jamil glared over his shoulder; Kalim was still smiling, something mischievous in his eyes now.  “You do.  We don’t have time for me to give that the response it deserves.”

Kalim laughed.  “Guess you’ll owe me one.”  He tugged Jamil close again and kissed his hand.  “You’ll be safe, won’t you?”

Jamil tipped Kalim’s head up and kissed his forehead.  “Safe as I can be.  I’ll be careful.”

“Okay.”  Kalim kissed his cheek.  “I’ll be miserable here without you,” he promised, the bright smile on his face at odds with his words.

“Make sure you actually look despairing.  We want your father to think he’s winning.”  Jamil tapped his forehead and put his folder away.  “Now, shall we?”

“Yeah.”  Kalim stood and gave himself a little shake before tears visibly began to well up in his eyes.  He sniffled.  “Okay.  I’m ready.”

What was he thinking about that worked so quickly?  Kalim was a terrible liar when push came to shove, but this was pretty damn convincing.  Jamil shook his head and put his own mask back on, cool indifference slotting neatly back into place.

And then they were off.

Jamil’s first stop after dropping Kalim off with a few other trusted servants nearby was the current head of staff, Wadi.  Middle-aged and career staff, he’d been working for the Asim family for longer than Jamil had been alive.  He worked directly under the head of house, but recently, when he was alone with Jamil, he’d quietly expressed more loyalty to Kalim than to Kalim’s father.

More staff than not had been eagerly awaiting the day that Kalim took over from his father, anticipating the positive changes that could come from having such a kind and thoughtful master.

Not that that would come to pass now.  Jamil almost felt bad about it, but not bad enough.  They wouldn’t be backing down now.

When he saw Jamil, Wadi slumped.  “Aw, shit,” he mumbled.  He scrubbed a hand over his face.  “So the rumors are true.  What happened?”

“He intends to marry Kalim off without Kalim’s full consent.”  Jamil shrugged.  “I won’t let him.”

“No, of course not.”  Wadi dropped his head back.  “I hate job hunting,” he mumbled to himself.  But then he straightened back up and leaned forward.  “Okay.  What do you need?”

Jamil nearly relaxed.  “We need to start packing some of Kalim’s clothes.  Not all of them, but a normal amount for him to own.  The clothes are nice, so it would be better to upkeep them as we go instead of wholly replacing his entire wardrobe with worse and less lasting fabrics.”

“Consider it done.  Shall we pack yours as well?” Wadi asked, already glancing over the notebook he kept shift and coverage notes written down in.

“Yes, please.  I’d really appreciate that.”

“Jamil Viper saying please?” Wadi teased.  “This must have you rattled.”

“A bit.”  But that wasn’t entirely accurate.  Jamil felt energized.  It was all finally falling into place, all his plans and preparations were coming to fruition after years and years of scheming.

Jamil had never felt better.  Even overblotting hadn’t given him a rush like this one.

“Are you sure you want to help us?  If Master al-Asim finds out…”  Jamil raised his eyebrows pointedly.

Wadi rolled his eyes and waved a dismissive hand.  “That’s why I’m giving you my number.”  He ripped out a page at the back of his notebook and pressed it into Jamil’s hands.  “You ever have need of me, you call.  I’d much rather work for you and the young master than stay here for whatever in-fighting is about to go down.”

Jamil stared down at the paper.  Sure enough, it held Wadi’s contact information, including an address outside of the estate.  He looked back up.  “I’ll let you know.”

Wadi clapped him on the shoulder.  “Good man.”

“Oh, one other thing,” Jamil said, tucking the paper into his binder for safe keeping.  “Can you make sure to keep someone we trust near Kalim all day?  I’m not going to be able to stay by his side, especially with his father’s attention on me.  The man he wants Kalim to marry has been… pushy already.  I don’t want them alone together.”

“Consider it done.”  Wadi’s eyes narrowed.  “We didn’t like the way he was talking to the young master.  Don’t worry.  We’ll keep him safe.”

Jamil nodded.  “Thank you.  I’ll be back in an hour, but I have things to do in town.  If you need me urgently, tell Kalim to call me.”

“Understood.”  Wadi squeezed his shoulder.  “Sorceror protect you.”

Jamil bowed.

There wouldn’t be much he could do for the people they left behind, but he would do what he could.  Not that they’d be allowed to manage their new home.  Jamil was rather looking forward to having Kalim all to himself for a good long while.

Chapter Text

With his actual cell phone left charging in his bedroom, Jamil waited until he was well off the estate grounds to make his first call.  Luck was with him; Rook picked up on the third ring.

“Hello, Rook Hunt speaking,” he answered.

“Rook, it’s Jamil.”

“Monsieur Pyramide!  What a wonderful surprise!” Rook crowed.  “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

Jamil rolled his eyes, but needs must.  “It’s Kalim.  We need… a place to leave from quickly, one that doesn’t have any connection to his father.  I seem to remember you saying your family had a house in Silk City?”

“Indeed we do!”  Rook’s voice lowered, conspiratorial.  “I’m not sure I’ll be able to lend it to you and Monsieur d’Or on such short notice, however.  I’m not the only member of the Hunt clan who makes use of these houses, you know.”

Jamil closed his eyes.  He’d planned for this too, but he’d hoped to avoid this exact conversation.  “We’re eloping.”

“What?”

“Kalim’s father found out about us, and he doesn’t approve.  He knows too many people for us to be able to leave the country by conventional means.  Whatever you can do to help, we would really appreciate it.”

“Jamil!  You mean to say that you and Kalim have finally come together at last?  Merveilleux!  Beauté!”  Rook’s voice became briefly muffled.  “Vil, my darling!  Excellent news!  Jamil and Kalim are eloping!”

Jamil wasn’t sure, but he thought he heard Vil’s voice say, “They hadn’t already?”

He wrinkled his nose.

“Oh, Jamil, you know I could never ignore the heartfelt plea of an imperiled lover.  I will see what I can do!  May I call you again at this number?” he asked.

Jamil let out a breath.  “Thank you.  Yes.  I’ll let you know if I change numbers before then.”

“I am sure you have much to prepare.  I will inquire as to the property’s availability posthaste!”  Rook said with his usual exuberance.  “Au revoir!”

“Until later.  And thank you again.”

Jamil tucked the phone away and groaned loudly.  Rook always had to be Rook about everything, of course, but at least his help would be reliable.  The trade off was, of course, that the snake was now out of the basket.  Rook wasn’t too notorious a gossip, but once one of their former classmates knew, it was only a matter of time before the rest found out.

After everything they’d gone through together that year, the group chat among the involved parties had never actually disbanded.  Mostly people used it to brag about their latest accomplishments or talk shit about other people, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t also used to gossip about each other.

Still, the connections he and Kalim made were valuable, even if the people themselves were annoying, unreliable, or simply too much to deal with regularly.

Jamil shook his head.  He had more work to do before he returned home, and he didn’t want to leave Kalim on his own too long.

Jamil made two appointments in two days’ time, one to finish the paperwork and get it filed with a clerk with whom Jamil had spent the last several years building a rapport, and another with an honest and trustworthy justice of the peace to get the marriage ceremony performed and finalized.

And then he made a stop in a seldom visited wing of the estate.  He tended not to come this way, leaving Kalim to visit his mother in privacy, but he still knew the exact route to her spacious and luxurious rooms by heart.

He knocked lightly on her door.

“Enter,” she called.

“Excuse me, ma’am,” Jamil said, entering with his head bowed.

“Jamil?” Kalim asked.  “What are you doing here?”

Jamil raised his head.  Kalim and his mother were sitting at a low table, tea service between them.  Side by side, their resemblence wasn’t an immediate one—Kalim had his father’s platinum hair instead of his mother’s jet black—but their eyes were that same striking ruby, and Kalim held all of his mother’s beauty without his father’s more rugged handsomeness interfering.

Aadila, Mistress al-Asim’s personal attendant, was sitting nearby, a book open on her lap.

“I have a request for your mother,” Jamil answered.

“Please, have a seat, Jamil.”  She indicated the cushion nearest Kalim.  “Would you like some tea?”

“No, thank you. I won’t be long.”  Jamil sat down across from her, beside Kalim, and folded his hands in his lap.  “Will you help us willingly?”

She arched an eyebrow.  “How bold,” she murmured.  “You would threaten me?”

“Jamil!” Kalim scolded.

“I don’t see it as a threat.”  Jamil kept his head held high.  “I’ll do what I must if it means Kalim gets to be free.”

Mistress al-Asim sipped her tea, expression hidden behind the cup.  Kalim tugged urgently at Jamil’s sleeve, brow furrowed, but Jamil could always apologize later.  This was more important than politeness.

If he had to hypnotize her, Jamil wanted to know now.

When Mistress al-Asim set her cup down, she was smiling.  “Tell me, Jamil, do you love my son?  I know you’ll keep him safe as you always have, but will you make him happy?”

“Mom!”  Kalim frowned at her next, but Jamil knew a test when he saw it.  These people were always giving him tests.  It would be a relief to finally be free of them.

“I’ll try.  And if I don’t, he’ll be free to find someone else who can.  I won’t keep him against his will.”  No matter how tempting it might be to take that choice out of Kalim’s hands forever.  That wouldn’t be fair.

Jamil wanted Kalim to choose him, freely and under his own power for the rest of their lives.  He wondered if some part of that showed on his face, because Kalim’s lower lip wobbled tellingly, and his mother looked pleased.

“I am not allowed to keep any of my son’s documents.  I was deemed a flight risk shortly after Kalim was born, around the time my husband began taking other wives and mistresses.”  Mistress al-Asim smiled a serpent’s smile.  “That being said, I can get them for you from my husband’s safe tonight, but I do have a request in exchange.”

“What do you want?” Jamil asked.

“You’ll need two witnesses.  Let me be one.”  Her smile gentled, and she cupped Kalim’s cheek.  “These aren’t the circumstances I would have chosen for this, but I am happy for you both.”

Jamil blinked.  That solved an issue he hadn’t settled on a solution for yet.  “Very well.  You will need to meet us at the courthouse on Monday at 9 a.m.”

“Wonderful.  Aadila?” she called.

“It has been noted.”

“Perfect.  Then I’ll bring you the documents.”  She poured herself a new cup of tea.  “I have a few preparations of my own to make before then.  With my dear Kalim leaving the nest with you, I do believe I have some paperwork of my own to finally file.”

She hummed softly to herself.  Kalim took her hand, eyes wide.  “Mom, you—I hope you’ll be happier when you leave,” he breathed earnestly.  “Aunt Aadila, you’ll keep looking after her, won’t you?”

Aadila’s eyes were fond when they fell on Kalim.  “Yes, Kalim.  Always.”

Kalim beamed.  “And we can still—this won’t be goodbye?”

“No, darling, of course not.”  She drew him close and pet his head gently.  “Only a brief ‘until we meet again.’  I promise.”

Kalim tucked his head under her chin, folding himself up against her in order to fit.  Jamil would need to speak with Najma today to make sure she could make time on Monday morning.  And before he left, he’d need to leave a letter with her for their parents.

Unlike Mistress al-Asim, Jamil’s parents were loyal to their master first, and to the mistress and the heir second.  If he told them anything, it would certainly be reported back.

He set his feelings about that aside to be dealt with later.  When they were safe somewhere far away, he could feel however it was he felt about that.

“Thank you for your cooperation, Mistress al-Asim.”  Jamil bowed his head.  “We’ll be relying upon your support.”

It rankled to have to, but Jamil didn’t know where or how to access the documents in question.  If he didn’t have to hypnotize her, he’d rather not; so for now, and only for now, he would have to let the issue leave his hands.

“If you have nothing else to ask of me, I have other matters to attend to.”  Jamil glanced between them both, but when neither seemed to have more to say, he stood and bowed again.  “Let me know if I may be of service.”

Mistress al-Asim chuckled behind her hand.  “Certainly, Jamil.  I hope your errands go smoothly.”

“I’ll see you at lunch?” Kalim asked, eyes bright.

“See you then,” Jamil agreed.  He left the room and closed the door behind him.

The banquet would continue tonight, so he would be needed in the kitchens until later in the afternoon.  He’d take a break to speak with Najma, but Kalim would need to give his tours without Jamil by his side.

Would Kalim be expected to participate in the next phase of meetings, or was he grounded for his ‘indiscretions’?

“Mr. Viper!” a chorus went up as he stepped into the kitchen and put on his apron.

He glanced around, but a path was cleared for him to wash his hands.  The faces looking back at him were all either curious or apprehensive, but no one had the courage to ask the question.

Jamil let out a soft breath.  “Speak with Wadi if you have concerns,” he said.  “We have too much work ahead of us to make time for idle gossip.”

“Yes, sir!”  The kitchen snapped back into movement, and the head chef, a beastwoman named Nyoka, pulled him aside.

“I believe Wadi already spoke to you,” Nyoka said quietly, “but should you need help when you leave, please give me a call.  And if you know of anyone who needs the services of a professional chef, I believe I’ll be in the market for a new position sometime very soon.”  She tucked a scrap of paper into his apron pocket.

“I’ll remember that.”  Jamil smiled.  “I do actually know someone in the restaurant business who’d probably welcome such a reliable and consummate professional in one of his kitchens.”

“Sounds just fine to me.”  She winked.  “Now then, back to work.”

“Yes, Chef.”

Kalim, true to his word, did look absolutely miserable at lunch.  He was seated, as before, across from Azlan Khatib and beside his mother who seemed to be set on selling their story, trying to drag Kalim into conversation with the irritating and insistent Azlan.

Based on the periodic hesitations, Kalim still had no idea what the man’s name was, and Jamil wasn’t about to help, not when it was the only bright point of lunch.  Besides, he wasn’t supposed to be showing such blatant favor to his charge in case people got the wrong (right) idea about them.

Whenever Kalim turned to look at him, Jamil made a point of turning his face away.  It hurt to reject Kalim so constantly, but Kalim never stopped looking, like he couldn’t help himself.

“Oh,” Kalim said as lunch was winding down.  He patted himself down, brow furrowed.  “I forgot my notebook.  I’m sorry, but I won’t be able to walk with you to the meeting after all.”  He forced a smile, chagrined and charming even in spite of the red still lining his eyes.

“I can walk you to your rooms,” Azlan offered.

“I must insist otherwise,” Mistress al-Asim cut in.  “No unauthorized visitors are permitted in that wing of the residence under any circumstances.  They will be swift, and you will see Kalim when he returns.”

Kalim shrugged.  “There you have it.  I’ll be right back.  You’ll hardly know I’m gone.”

“And his… servant will be joining him?” Azlan asked, eyes narrowed.

“If you wish this to be done quickly, I must join him.”  Jamil glanced at Kalim.  “Do you remember where you put your notebook?”

Kalim paused, brow furrowing.  “Where…”  He pressed a hand to his mouth.  “Oh no.  Jamil, I know I set it down someplace safe so I wouldn’t lose it, but…?”

“There you have it.”  Jamil folded his arms behind his back.  “I know the three places it’s likeliest to be, and it would be faster for me to check them myself.”

“Hurry back,” Mistress al-Asim dismissed.  “And while we wait, Mr. Khatib, tell me more about your work.”

Jamil followed Kalim out the door, walking a short distance behind him, following the exact bounds of propriety in a way he hadn’t ever bothered with.  Kalim didn’t look back, but his steps were quick, and he was fidgeting.

Jamil kept his face impassive, but inside he felt indescribably smug.  Kalim could not be more obvious about what he wanted, and it was up to Jamil to decide whether or not he’d be allowed to have it.

When they closed the door behind themselves, Kalim surged forward, mouth meeting Jamil’s with a quiet whimper.  “Jamil,” he gasped, “How much longer do we have to stay?”

Jamil held his face, stroking his thumbs over Kalim’s cheeks.  He deserved a little reward, Jamil decided.  “Until the banquets are over and done with.”  He kissed Kalim again.  “If we embarrass your father, he’ll be much less reasonable and more likely to take drastic measures.  If we can avoid that, I’d like to.”

Kalim pouted.  “Okay.  But I can only handle so much more of that guy.  What if he expects to dance with me tonight?”

Jamil wrinkled his nose.  He didn’t want that either.  “I’ll see what I can do.”

“You know his name, right?”

“Sure.”  Jamil kissed Kalim once more, deep and lingering, before he slipped around him to grab his notebook.  “You look fine, if a bit dazed.  We might need to do something about that.”

Kalim sighed.  “Yeah, okay.  One more kiss?”

Jamil rolled his eyes, but he’d been good too.  “Fine.  One more.”  He kept it short; no matter how many times he kissed him, it never felt like enough.

Kalim sighed and held onto Jamil’s waist.  “Okay.  If I brought you back here, and you rejected me in the name of your duty to the Asim family again, even though I love you so much and I want to be with you…”  He took a deep breath, and then he began to cry.

Jamil blinked.  The tears were big and wet where they poured down his cheeks.  Kalim sniffled miserably as he openly wept, leaning otherwise calmly against the door.

Kalim looked up at him, eyes shining like rubies.  The misery etched into his features—and because of an imagined rejection from Jamil—sent something stirring in Jamil’s gut.  He licked his lips.

Kalim pressed a hand to Jamil’s face.  “No, no, don’t look at me like that,” he wailed, “I have to—have to really feel like—like you don’t want me back!”

Jamil turned his face away.  “Sorry.  I’ll try to keep a lid on it.  But we’re going to revisit this later.”

Kalim nodded eagerly, but kept the tears falling.  After another moment, he scrubbed hastily at his eyes.  His makeup didn’t smudge, but his cheeks darkened where he’d rubbed, and his eyelids swelled slightly.

No one would doubt what had happened behind closed doors now.

Jamil waited until Kalim gave a firm nod to open the door again, passing the notebook to Kalim as they left.  Kalim led the way down the hall, still rubbing half-heartedly at his eyes, lips pressed tightly together.

If Jamil didn’t know any better, if he didn’t still have the taste of Kalim on his tongue, he would be hard pressed to catch Kalim in his lie.  His performance was an incredible one, beyond anything Jamil thought to expect when he’d told Kalim what he would need to do.

Jamil half-expected to need to hypnotize Kalim again to make sure they made it through without drawing further attention, but… so far, so good.

When they returned to Kalim’s mother and Azlan, Mistress al-Asim sighed as she cupped Kalim’s cheek.  “Oh, darling,” she murmured, “Again?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Kalim mumbled.  He turned his face to one side.  He let out a breath before he forcibly perked back up, the enthusiasm obviously feigned.

Jamil maintained an appropriate distance and a watchful eye.  Whatever else they claimed, Jamil would not allow Azlan Khatib to take liberties with Kalim.  He could speak with him, but that was already approaching the limit of what Jamil was willing to tolerate.

Master al-Asim glanced between Jamil and Kalim as they entered the meeting room; his smile was pleased as Kalim sat down.  Jamil maintained an indifferent mask as the meeting progressed, eyes wandering over the collected group and only periodically lingering on Kalim.

Kalim diligently took notes and participated in the meeting as if nothing had changed, as if he still intended to perform his duties as the Asim heir, and Jamil was again struck by the skill of his performance.

There was much to be done, but as long as Kalim could keep up the act, Jamil would be able to move freely.