Page 8 of Under His Skin

“There’s all that shit with the anti-bondservant groups going around, and Mom’s been super stressed with some political things at her work. She loves it when Uncle Hannes is here so she can argue. Dad doesn’t put up with it. He just leaves the room if she’s spoiling for a fight.”

Alex remembered the news and the punchable-face-guy who had pissed Tracht off, but he hadn’t known any of the rest of it. Anna was always on Tracht’s case to be more friendly and sociable and part of the family.

“I hate it,” Johan said quietly, drawing attention to himself. “Mom pretends she’s so much more mature than Uncle Hannes and that he’s the weirdo and she’s doing him huge favors by including him in the family. But she doesn’t really care about him.”

“Whoa, that’s not true,” Markus interrupted. He put his pen and tablet down and turned his chair to face Johan. “Mom likes arguing, but she doesn’t hate Hannes. If she did, it’d be way easier to never invite him. Because…” He looked over his shoulder at Alex briefly. “Because Hannes would love nothing more than to just stay in space indefinitely.”

That was true enough. Alex wasn’t going to argue with Markus. He didn’t mention that he’d love it if he didn’t have to come over and have these awkward dinners either. It would save him having to sit still with crusty underwear.

Johan scowled at Markus. “You’re wrong. Uncle Hannes is… He’s just really strict and particular. But you weren’t there when he… when he saved me. He got his hands dirty, in a way Mom never would. The kidnappers had scalpels and laser pens.”

“Are you going to bring that up every fucking time?” Markus scoffed loudly. “We get it; you’re traumatized. Plenty of people go through shit and don’t feel the need to rub into other’s faces. Like Alex. He’s fine.”

“Who says Alex is fine? You don’t know what it was like!” By this point, Johan was yelling, his face red.

Alex bit down hard on his lip and felt his fists clench up. Markus couldn’t know, but Alex could. Alex remembered getting his tooth ripped out. He remembered the cuts. He remembered his hand getting broken. What he didn’t remember was the actual rescue. He knew Tracht had come for them, but between the tooth and the hospital, his memories were a hazy mess.

He stood up, ignoring the uncomfortable way everything pulled on his crotch, and left the room.

“Alex? Hey! Alex!” Markus shouted after him, but Alex kept walking.

He ended up in the large room that Anna called the lounge, which was somehow different from the study where he’d been with Markus and Johan.

Tracht, Anna, and Vasilis were all there, glasses of wine in their hands and the vid screen playing the news.

The fucking news again. Alex didn’t want Tracht to lose his good humor from earlier, but he didn’t know what to do either.

Tracht looked over at him. “Is Markus done painting you already? Because I thought that was going to take a while longer yet.”

“Can we go?” Alex said. He wasn’t sure what he was trying to accomplish, asking like this. Tracht was going to say no. Tracht was going to make him stay even longer. Tracht was going to punish him for this. Tracht was going to—

Tracht stood up and walked over to him, his eyebrows furrowed lightly. After a few moments, he said, “I was done here anyway. Good night, Anna, Vasilis.”

Alex was so relieved that he didn’t hear what Anna said. Tracht put his hand on the back of Alex’s neck and led him toward the front door.

“What’s the matter with you now?” Tracht asked quietly. “I’m having a hard time believing a little discomfort sent you spiraling like this.”

“I’m not—” Alex stopped when he realized how loud he was. “I’m not spiraling.”

“You might not know your feelings, Alex, but I do.”

The hand on the back of Alex’s neck was warm, and once they were outside, Tracht started massaging too. It was… nice. It was really nice, and Alex felt himself relaxing a fraction.

Even better: when they got into the cab, Tracht told Alex to kneel and put his head on Tracht’s thigh. Alex sighed in relief and let himself let go. He enjoyed Tracht’s fingers on his scalp and even the itch on his crotch didn’t feel as immediate.

“So? What happened?” Tracht asked, scratching a bit harder. “Did Markus proposition you?”

“No. He and Johan started fighting. About that time… that time I rescued Johan…”

“Ah. I suppose some level of trauma is to be expected.” Tracht gripped Alex’s hair hard and pulled, making Alex wince, but after a few seconds he loosened his grip again. “It’s just as well. I think Vasilis was getting annoyed with both of us.”

Alex was about to ask what he’d done to Vasilis, then he realized Tracht meant himself and Anna. “Markus said Anna takes her work stress out on you.”

“I am well aware. She knows I am forced to make nice with her and that I am unlikely to be overly insulted by argumentativeness.” Tracht sat back and closed his eyes. “She does seem to be in worse form than usual, but with all the agitators and now the press interest, she’s probably feeling a lot of pressure.”

The cab ride continued all the way to the harbor, with Alex’s knees starting to ache and the fabric of his underwear clinging disgustingly to his skin. It was lucky, probably, that the cock cage protected his junk. He didn’t even want to imagine how much worse it could have been.

Tracht let go of him when they arrived at the docks. Alex hated how clingy he felt, desperate to touch Tracht even while they walked the ramps on foot and made their way to the ship.

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