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Rory.
Kay locked the door and hid his key under the doormat.
I want to thank you for everything you’ve done for me.
It had been nearly a year since he’d moved in, after Rory had called the police and saved him from Alistair.
I know you’ll disagree with this choice, but I hope you can accept that it’s my choice, and that I’m doing this for both of us.
He pushed the back of his hand against his eyes, refusing to allow tears to escape. A whole year and he still hadn’t been able to settle down. The constant tension left after everything that happened last spring was enough to drive him insane, and Rory’s coddling wasn’t helping. It was exhausting, really, the way he kept insisting on treating Kay as if he was made of glass.
I’m leaving so we can both have the life we want.
This was for the best. It had to be. Kay entered the bus, a duffel bag with some clothes slung over his shoulder. Rory would feel sad, betrayed, even, but he’d get over it. He’d get to move on with his life. Kay… couldn’t.
Both of us.
He stepped off the bus and walked the last stretch to Andrew’s place. It wasn’t the first time. Kay needed something Rory refused to give him, and one desperate moment, several months ago, Kay had come here, not sure what to expect. After losing Sky, Andrew had become more tired, sullen, but still with that same anger Kay had seen so many times before. Kay couldn’t be Sky, but they could both pretend for a moment that the other was what they needed.
I’m sorry.
It had become a regular thing. Kay would wait for Rory to go to work, then take the bus to go see Andrew. He started hiding bruises, avoided taking off his clothes around Rory. Andrew was scary and violent, but he had that same tension, and it somehow felt right. And when Andrew had a softer moment, when he let Kay rest at his feet, body aching with fresh new bruises, Kay could finally relax, head empty, for just a moment.
I love you.
That was the truth. Kay loved Rory with an intensity he could barely bear, and sometimes he almost thought Rory felt the same way, but it was probably just his imagination. And even if it was true, this wasn’t fair on Rory. It was too much to ask, for Rory to give him what he wanted, needed, craved.
Kay.
Andrew opened the door, and the moment their eyes met, Kay was no longer there. Jett knelt on the floor inside the door. “Please, Sir, let me stay.”
Andrew slapped him for talking, but put the duffle bag in the cupboard, and that was as good as a yes. They went into the bathroom and did the morning routine, like they always did when Jett arrived. Andrew helped Jett shower and brush his teeth, Jett stood still and allowed it to happen. Any protest was rewarded with a smack to the nearest body part, and Jett allowed himself to sink deeper into that almost calm headspace.
The rest of the day was almost nice. Andrew had him eat kibble for dinner, but allowed him to beg a few pieces of human food. He had to crawl on the floor, but for the most part he was allowed to sit by Andrew’s feet, with Andrew’s hand in his hair, and to not think.
There were no new bruises yet when he was locked in the cupboard to sleep.
Jett was half asleep when there was a knock on the entrance door. He could hear Andrew cross the floor and open the door.
“Oh, so you decided to come, huh? What a surprise,” Andrew’s voice said.
“Shut up Andrew,” came Rory’s voice, and Kay was suddenly wide awake. “Go sit on the couch and don’t interfere.”
There was nearly a minute more before the door to the cupboard opened. “What are you-”
“Get out,” Rory ordered, his voice almost unrecognizable with demand, making Kay, Jett, scramble to obey.
Rory slapped him. Kay’s heart was racing.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Rory demanded. “You’re leaving me? For Andrew?”
“I, uh.” Jett’s mouth was dry. “I left you a letter.”
“I know, Kay. I read your little letter. Are you really so desperate to be abused that you’d rather run back to him than stay with me?” Rory took a firm grip on Jett’s hair and pulled down. “Kneel.”
His knees buckled. He wasn’t sure if he even was Kay any more, but he had to be. He always had to be Kay with Rory. “You don’t want this. I can’t ask this of you.”
“Oh, I don’t want this, is that how it is?” Rory scoffed, taking Jett’s chin in his hand to tilt his face up. “I have been so, so patient with you, Kay. If you decided you wanted to leave, I might even have let you. But not for this. He doesn’t get you. No one gets you. Only I can have you.”
“What-” Jett whispered.
“I ignored it when you started coming here, and that was a mistake. We’re leaving.”
“I- no, I-” Jett was barely even sure what he was saying. This was a new side of Rory he hadn’t seen before, and it resonated with the tension in him, but was this Rory pretending? Was this Rory going against his own wishes for Jett’s sake? “You don’t need to. I’ll stay.”
“Oh, you wanna stay? Fine.”
There was a click. Jett followed the line of Rory’s arm, and oh. When did Rory get a gun?
“You can come home with me, or I can kill Andrew. He doesn’t get you.”
Jett couldn’t speak.
“Tell me. Kay. Do you want to get away from me that desperately? Do you want to be free?”
He shook his head. “You don’t want me like this.”
“Oh, but I do,” Rory said, a hand stroking the side of Jett’s face. “I’ve given you time to process, to get better, to heal. I wanted you to be able to make your own choice. But I realize now that you never wanted that. That you can’t be trusted to make your own choices. There’s only one choice left to make now, Kay. Come home with me or leave. But I’m done playing nice.”
Andrew’s words from so long ago flashed through Jett’s mind. He doesn’t really care about consent. He wants you on your knees. The idea was dizzying.
“So?”
Jett could barely hear over the rush in his ears. He nodded. “You.”
When they left, he threw one last glance at Andrew, who sat there with a smirk saying I told you so.