It had been six months since Starbuck had found Troy, and four since their relationship ended. It had been a mutual separation, both agreeing the age difference was too much. Starbuck had his suspicions about Troy and Dillon being together, but no real proof. The boys were good friends, and always at one another's quarters. Whenever the Captain walked in on them, they would immediately stop talking and start laughing.
He was pulled from his reverie when the comm sounded. "Captain Starbuck to the bridge."
Starbuck couldn't help remember that this was how his day had started when Troy had been found, but couldn't figure out why. He walked up the control steps, and greeted Commander Tigh and Lt. Boomer.
He knew something was up when Boomer just nodded his acknowledgement. Tigh got straight down to business. "We received this communication from Sire Besley ten centons ago."
As Starbuck watched the distress comm, he tried to remember where he'd heard the name 'Besley' before. His eyes widened as the screen shot did to reveal the pilot; Apollo. His heart fell as he saw the look in the once lively green eyes. He turned to Tigh. "When do they land?"
"We just sent the reply before you arrived. They should be in the launch bay in a few microns," Tigh replied.
Starbuck all but ran to the launch bay, with Boomer hot on his heels.
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Sire Besley yanked Apollo's head back by his long hair. The former Captain didn't even flinch, he had learned long ago that that was a mistake. Besley leaned down and licked his slave's ear before whispering into it. "Same as always. You speak to no one, go nowhere unless I approve." He yanked the dark head back again. "I still have my suspicions about you tampering with the engines. You are safe, until I figure out why you chose this fleet."
Apollo nodded, knowing he would be struck if he did not. He feared opening the doors to the ship. His friends and family would be too eager and overjoyed at seeing him, and would not understand the consequences of their outbursts.
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Starbuck and Boomer waited patiently for the occupants of the ship. Well, that's what they told themselves, realistically they were two heaps of nervous wrecks. When the doors finally slid open, Boomer leapt forward.
Starbuck, seeing the terror in Apollo's eyes, hauled Boomer back. He stepped forward more calmly, remembering the same look from Troy. He smiled at their visitors. "Sire Besley. I am Captain Starbuck." He glanced at Apollo, silently apologizing for taking his place, and wishing he could now. "The Commander has informed me of your troubles. We'll know how long repairs take once our techs have a look."
Besley grinned like a serpent. "Very good, Captain. My pilot and I will enjoy your hospitality." He turned to Apollo. "Come along."
Starbuck had to physically restrain himself from grabbing Apollo. "Actually, Sire. The techs would probably move a lot faster if your pilot was able to help them with the configurations. Also the Commander has instructed me to debrief him on the incidents surrounding the malfunction."
Boomer smiled inwardly, {Atta boy, Bucko!}
Besley on the contrary was none too pleased. He eyed Starbuck, but had no reason to confront the Captain's seemingly legitimate request. "Very well, Captain. Have him brought to me the moment you release him . . . We have to calculate the metrons we've lost, and the centares it will take to regain them."
If Starbuck had his way, this boray would never see Apollo again. He gestured to his silent friend to follow, while Boomer escorted the Sire to the prepared quarters. Once he heard the lift ascend, Starbuck turned to Apollo. "'Pollo, can you talk?" he asked, remembering the state Troy was in when he found him.
"Yeah," Apollo replied, meekly. "But I'm not supposed to. Thanks for not giving me away."
Satrbuck smiled. "I thought that's what the look was for. How long have you been with *Besley*?" the name dripping in contempt.
For a micron Apollo wondered about the implications of the question. He frowned as he remembered. "Two yahrens. I heard a rumor he had Boxey, but when I got there . . ."
Starbuck's anger turned to rage as he remembered he'd heard of Besley from Troy. He tentatively placed a hand on his friend's shoulder, not wanting to hurt or startle him. "Troy, er, Boxey is safe, Apollo. He's been here for the past half yahren. He's fine, like a regular teenager."
Apollo began to sob in joy. "Thank the Lords! Starbuck, how was he when you found him?"
Starbuck didn't hesitate to explain, hoping it would give Apollo ideas. "Troy, as he likes to be called now, was basically catatonic when I found him. He had murdered the last Sire he was enslaved to, and left on a planet to die. It took nearly a month, but I got him out of it."
The Captain was shocked when Apollo pulled him into a fierce hug. For a micron he wondered if Apollo would have had the same reaction if he told him of their relationship. Apollo pulled away as abruptly as he'd made the contact. "Thank you, my friend. I owe you so much."
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Three centares later, Apollo headed to Sire Besley's quarters. He had had a lengthy conversation with Starbuck, including the faux debriefing. He hoped his plan would work, more for his sanity's sake than his life's. He entered the quarters and was instantly met with a backhand across the face, that sent him against the closed door.
"What did you tell that Captain?" Besley demanded, as he sent his fist into Apollo's face. When the reply was not immediate, he punched his slave in the gut. "Answer me!!"
Apollo gasped for air. "He wanted to know where we were heading, and I told him a remote agro base, Master."
"You're lying!" Besley raged. He upper cut Apollo, sending his head snapping back. "Do what I bought you for, slave," he demanded. When Apollo knelt before him, facing him, Besley drop-kicked him in the mid-section. "Daggit style, slave!"
Apollo obeyed, never once crying out, knowing it would be worse if he uttered a sound.
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The next morning Tigh decided to pay a personal visit to the Sire. He wasn't doing it for relations, but for his old and dear friend. He had heard from Starbuck that Apollo had asked for anonymity. Tigh had only heard about people like Besley, but could understand his friend's son's wishes.
He came to the door, and knocked. A few moments later the door was opened with a flourish. The well-muscled, middle aged man glared at Tigh. "Yes, Commander? Has my craft been repaired?"
Tigh couldn't understand why a man as deceivingly handsome as this would resort to slaves, when he could obviously have any partner he wished. "I'm sorry, Sire Besley. It will take the technicians and engineers a secton to make all the repairs. Five days, if you wish to run on minimal capacity."
Besley sneered. "I'm honored you came to inform me yourself, Commander. Is there anything else?"
{Yeah, would you mind returning Apollo, and taking a shuttle to the prison barge} Tigh bit back, barely. "Actually, I would like a word with your pilot. It seems my team in having some problems with jerry-rigging in the weapons system."
Rage played in the dark eyes. Besley tossed his head back. "Come here!!" he barked, doing nothing to hide his ferosity.
Apollo emerged as quickly as he could, just stopping himself from kneeling, the way he had been trained. Tigh swallowed a gasp at seeing the handsome features hidden behind a mask of bruises and healing cuts. He wanted to weep at the images that came to mind while he watched Apollo's gait. It was as if the former Captain had spent an entire furlon on horseback, and never stepped down.
Besley curbed his need to punish Apollo, and chose to repremand verbally. "The Commander informs me his techs are having trouble with the weapons system. Care to elaborate."
Apollo was thankful for Tigh's presence, but knew what was in store for him when next the door closed. "Do you remember when we went through Slaanica territory? You asked me to upgrade the system, M - sir." He flinched, knowing Besley had caught the slip. It would be added to his punishment.
The Sire noticed Tigh staring at Apollo's condition. He thought quickly. "My pilot was thrown from the console, and a heavy panel fell on him. He's quite lucky to be alive."
Apollo knew the last sentence was also meant for his ears. Tigh knew better than to believe Besley's lame excuses. It was the old 'I walked into a door' line, but he didn't reveal himself. "As long as you weren't seriously injured."
The Sire placed his hand proprietarily on the door. "Thank you for the personal touch, Commander," he stated, before slamming the door in Tigh's face.
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"Felgercarb!" Starbuck cried, when Tigh regailed Apollo's stated, and the story Besley had told. "He was in perfect physical condition in the launch bay!"
The Commander gripped the Captain's arm as he tried to leave. "Starbuck, do not interfere."
The pilot spun around, and stared at him. "We can't let that son of a daggit get away with this."
"I understand that. But if you confront Besley, he'll suspect Apollo had something to do with it."
Starbuck hadn't thought about that. Tigh watched the war waging in his young friend's eyes. "Also, you have to remember that Besley is a Sire. He could have you kicked out of the fleet, or residing on the prison barge. Whatever we do has to be done without his knowing and seeing."
Starbuck nodded his understanding. "Can I leave now, sir?"
Tigh released him. He wondered what was going on behind those con artist eyes, and only wished he had the courage to help.
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Apollo heard the door close, but didn't try to move. Last night's session, combined with the beating and such he had just received, had left him momentarily paralyzed. He hated times like this, not because of the pain, but because the only thing he could do was think.
His mind wandered back to the encounter with Tigh. If he was Commander, where was Adama? Ill? Dead? Why hadn't Starbuck said anything? "Maybe because he didn't want to concern me," Apollo stated aloud.
Thinking of Starbuck made him wonder what his friend thought of him. Boxey was just a boy, and had been able to escape. Was that the now Captain's way of showing his disappointment? Why couldn't a mighty warrior, the son of the fleet Commander, do the same? Would Starbuck ever accept his friendship again? Probably not. Who'd befriend a whore?
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Starbuck finished off the last of the bottle of ambrosia. To his surprise it had taken him almost a centare. Anyone who attempted to join him at his table in the Officer's Lounge gave wide berth when they saw the expression on his face. He was not in the mood.
He lit a fumerello, and glanced up as the door slid open. His wonderful state of euphoria instantly disappeared when he saw Sire Besley stroll in. Starbuck felt rage and fury that he could do nothing, but then remembered Tigh's words, "'Whatever' we do has to be done without his knowing and 'seeing'."
Starbuck finished his fumerello, and slowly got to his feet. He was thankful that Besley hadn't seen him. Wandering through the corridors the way Besley would have to go, he found what he wanted. He waited, and planned his next move. He would have preferred an airlock, but this was much better. Starbuck didn't have long to wait before he heard the hatefully familiar, sickeningly jovial sound of his prey whistling down the corridor.
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Sire Besley had quite enjoyed himself, it had been far too long since he'd had a glass of passible ambrosia. He planned the rest of his night with Apollo. No need to waste a perfectly good erection. Tonight he would have his pilot suck him dry. The talents of this slave in that capacity - the lips, the tongue, the teeth - surpassed all of his previous slaves. Even that delicious child of several yahrens ago.
He was just passing a supply storage, when someone gripped Besley's shoulders and threw him inside. The lights were out, and he couldn't see his attacker. He swung back, hoping to catch the man, but felt something cold lock around his wrist. Besley's other arm was pulled back viciously, and an extra sharp tug nearly wrenched it from its socket.
Starbuck smiled at his luck in choosing a sentry storage, and finding the shackles. He would have left Besley's legs, but the man kicked out and caught him in the shin. Grunting, he brought his fists down simultaneously on both kidneys. The man fell to his knees, and Starbuck restrained his ankles. He was surprised that the Sire didn't cry out. {He probably enjoys it} Starbuck thought in disgust.
Besley felt the man pull him sharply to his feet. Taking a chance. he threw his head back and connected with the other's. He heard a muffled cry, and was whipped around. A knee came up twice, once to his gut and then to his very aroused groin. The second shot made him cry out and nearly lose consciousness. He was then slammed face first into the wall again.
{Enough is enough} Starbuck decided. A fight was one thing, but that's not what he wanted this time. Save that for another day, when he could let Besley see him, and know exactly who was beating the frak out of him. This was for Apollo, not him. That thought brought another.
Starbuck shoved his shoulder against Besley's back so he wouldn't move, and undid his trousers. Bringing himself to erecton, he quickly wiped it dry. Turning, he grabbed Besley's pants and yanked them down, driving his cock in all the way. He quickly got release, and wasted no time in pulling out.
Sire Besley sank to the floor in a heap. No one did this to him, and got away with it! He looked up in the general direction of the other. "You will pay for this!" he cried, just before shooting his own seed into the air.
Starbuck repeatedly kicked the man's ribs, back, ass, and gut. It was then that he heard the clatter of metal hit the floor. Bending, he groped around until his fingers closed on a utility knife. In the darkness he examined the weapon, and happened upon a steel spike, much like a toothpick.
Grinning sardonically, he knelt beside his prone victim. Fumbling around, he quickly found Besley's flaccid organ. Laughing maniacally he grabbed hold of it. And drove the spike all the way into the tiny slit. Besley cried out it agony, and passed out.
"You won't be hurting Apollo anytime soon," Starbuck stated triumphantly, before making a hasty retreat.
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Dr. Salik came out of the surgical area to the waiting Commander Tigh and Apollo, just as Starbuck entered Life Center. The Captain had been ordered there by Tigh. Starbuck understood that the Commander knew it was him, and also that a small part of the man was proud.
Apollo was on his feet before Salik was in the room. A voice in his head hoped Besley was dead. Salik noted the worry on his face. "Sire Besley was beaten severely, raped, and . . . Well, I'll just say it'll be a good quarter yahren before he attempts sexual activity."
Starbuck wanted to whoop with joy, he had saved Apollo. Tigh caught the look in his eye. "Can I see you outside, Captain?"
Once in the corridor, the Commander turned blazing dark eyes on him. "What the frak did you do, Starbuck?"
The Captain met his glare. "I did what needed doing . . . Sir."
"Well, you just better hope no one saw you. I thought I told you to do *nothing*."
"No, sir," Starbuck countered. "You said to make sure he didn't know who it was."
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Starbuck had been sent to his quarters, like a child who had been bad. What was wrong with Tigh? He had freed Apollo, *and* made Besley see what he was doing. The Sire never knew it was him. Apollo was the only thing that mattered, the only one who ever mattered.
The Captain was still thinking about his best friend when the door chime sounded. He got up and answered it. A high wattage smile formed when he saw who his visitor was. "Apollo!"
"Can I see you for a few centons?" he asked in all seriousness.
Starbuck happily ushered him inside, only to be shoved when the door closed.
Apollo's green eyes read fury as he shoved him again. "What have you done? Don't lie to me, Bucko. I know it was you." Another shove. "Did you think you were helping me? Doing me a favor??"
"Yes!" Starbuck hollered, his own rage ignited. He shoved Apollo back. "I thought you'd be happy to be out of Besley's reach. He can't hurt you anymore. You should thank me for doing something you didn't even have the balls to try!"
He immediately regretted his outburst when he saw the shame in Apollo's eyes. He'd never never meant to say it, but frak, someone had to. This revelation sparked the need to continue. "Sagan, Apollo! Even Troy was able to escape and he was seventeen! You're a frakkin' warrior, and you didn't even try . . . At least you used to be."
Apollo sent a punch to his best friend's eye. Starbuck staggered, recovered, and stopped himself before sending an answering blow. It enraged Apollo that Starbuck wouldn't give him what he wanted; the chance to brawl with someone on even ground. "What's the matter, *Captain*? Afraid a whore will kick your ass?"
Starbuck realized just how much his best friend wanted this, but was not about to oblige. "Shut up, Apollo. I'm not going to fight you, and that's final. So, beat the frak out of me if you want, but I won't hurt you."
The taller man slumped on the longseat, all the rage and adrenalin drained from him. "Do you have any idea how long it's been since I was in a good brawl? Almost a yahren, and Besley killed the slave who'd picked the fight." He sighed. "I am grateful for what you've done, Starbuck. It's just that I've been a slave for so long, I don't know if I remember how not to be."
Starbuck was beside him in an instant, and gathered his best friend into his arms. "Hush, 'Pollo. Everything will be alright. I'm here for you, and I'll help you through this."
Apollo so wanted to kiss Starbuck, to feel and taste his tongue, but he knew he'd be rejected. The new Captain was straight as they come, the fact being proven with Apollo's own sister. He could feel his arousal heighten with every beat of his heart, and pushed his friend away. "Thanks, Bucko. I better go pack my stuff and move, before Besley is released from Life Center."
Starbuck's eyes lit up, here was his chance at something he'd always dreamed of. "If you need a place to stay -"
"No!" Apollo replied harshly, and a little too fast. "Tigh's already arranged some quarters." He knew if he stayed another moment his desire would be more than obvious to Starbuck. Another quick hug, and he was out the door.
"Frak," Starbuck exclaimed, once he was alone. Why had he pushed? Even if Apollo knew he wouldn't force him, the tension would have been there. If he wanted this as much as he dreamed, he would have to take it slow. He didn't want to chance losing Apollo, like he had Troy.
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Two sectons later, Sire Besley was released from Life Center. The first thing he did was go to his quarters. He knew Apollo had done this to him, and he was more than ready to exact punishment. Of course he wouldn't give Apollo what he deserved, but Besley was content with a severe beating . . . and perhaps a nice whipping.
The Sire roared in frustrated rage, when he realized his slave had escaped. Now the whip was definitely in order. He could always buy another play toy. He punched at the comm, and feigned control when requesting the whereabouts of his pilot. Besley received the number of Apollo's quarters, and prepared to leave, leather whip hidden under his shirt.
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Apollo ran to answer the insistant door chime, thinking it was Starbuck. They had spent a good portion of his freedom together, and catching Apollo up on the fleet activity for the past ten yahrens. The talks about their past always upset Apollo. He had enjoyed their time together, but it just reminded him of all the missed opportunities. Especially when Starbuck mentioned their planet missions and Triad games. Oh, the showers alone were enough to make him groan in regret.
Apollo nearly screamed when he saw Sire Besley standing before him. The other was silent until he closed the door. Once inside, Besley let loose his rage with a backhand to Apollo's face. "I should kill you for what you've done. Did you really think you could stop me, slave?"
Apollo backpedalled in fear. "I'm sorry, Master. I didn't t-t-think you'd want me staying t-t-there in your absence," he stammered.
Besley slammed his fist into his slave's chest, winding him. "Do you think me a fool?" he raged, removing the whip. "Oh, you will be punished for trying to leave me, but this is for the attack. You coward, you didn't even face me. Is that the only way you could beat me? I was pleased to see you got off on it."
Apollo's eyes widened. Damn Starbuck. Wait, get off on it? Starbuck raped him? He had thought his friend had used a foreign object for that part, but to actually sex this man . . . Apollo was brought out of his reverie, when he felt hard leather wrap tightly around his neck, cutting off his air.
Besley tugged on the whip, causing Apollo to come within centi-metrons of him. "You will come with me now, slave. I'll wait until we're off this ship, and then give you what you deserve."
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Starbuck rang the chime for Apollo's quarters. There was no answer, and per previous visits he let himself in. "Hey, 'Pollo! Troy and Dillon want me to play Triad, and I thought -"
He stopped instantly when he realized he was alone. Something was wrong, Apollo never left his quarters. A quick comm to Dr. Salik gave Starbuck the answer he had been fearing.
He ran through the corridors to Sire Besley's quarters, nearly mowing down a few cadets in his path. Not only was there no one in the quarters, but their belongings had been vacated. Where the frak had he taken Apollo?
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Apollo was just finishing the outer hull check, when he heard someone calling him. He turned, and frowned. "Starbuck, you have to get out of here. If Besley sees you . . ."
The Captain stopped dead in his tracks when he saw the angry red and blue ring around his best friend's neck. "'Pollo, did he do that to you?" he demanded.
Apollo's face tried to match his neck, as Starbuck's tender fingers touched him softly. "He thinks I was the one who attacked him." Seeing his best friend's rage he quickly added, "It's better this way. He won't hurt you."
Starbuck stiffened. "Where is he?" he snarled.
"Looking for me, Captain?" Besley asked, as he came from the shuttle. "It's good of you to see us off."
Starbuck placed himself between the Sire and Apollo. "I can't let you leave, Sire. It appears you're trying to take something that belongs to me."
"And what would that be?" Besley asked, with arrogance.
The Captain silently apologized before reaching back and grabbing Apollo's cock. He felt it stir, and his own twitched in response. Recovering, he leered at Besley. "This."
The Sire glared at Apollo. "It appears you've been busy in my absence."
"Wrong, Besley," Starbuck countered. "In your 'absence' I have re-claimed what is rightfully mine. This slave was taken from me, and I want him back."
Apollo wasn't too uncomfortable in Starbuck's grip, since his friend's fingers were lovingly stroking his organ, unseen by Besley. It was the implication of the Captain's words that unsettled him. He might just as well have been one of Starbuck's fumarellos for the way he talked. Could his best friend really mean what he was saying? Did he now only view Apollo as a possession? Why not? That's all he would ever be now.
Besley pulled out his knife and flicked the blade. "Care to fight for what's yours?"
Starbuck stroked Apollo's length, and released him, reluctantly. How he wanted to just take his best friend back to his quarters right now. He suddenly felt Apollo grab for his hand. Turning, love in his eyes, he wretched his hand away. "You'll be calling me 'Master' soon enough."
"Starbuck!" Apollo screamed, as Besley sliced across his friend's uniform. The Captain jumped back reflexively, and punched Besley in the face. When the Sire came in for another swing, Starbuck brought the side of his hand down on his wrist, and the knife clattered to the floor. Starbuck shoved Apollo out of the way, and received a vicious blow to the gut.
Growling the Captain launched himself at his opponent. Limbs flew as they battered one another. Besley got Starbuck pinned against the shuttle, and the other drove both fists into his kidneys. The Sire's eyes widened as he recognized the move. "You!?!"
Besley attacked with renewed fury. This was the boray who thought he could humiliate him. He kicked Starbuck's legs out from under him, and jumped on the younger man. He moved like a man possessed as he pummelled his opponent.
Apollo saw Starbuck hit the ground, and even though he was getting in a few good shots, Apollo thought he was finished. He didn't even think as he grabbed the knife. To ask him, Apollo would never remember burying the weapon into Sire Besley's back.
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When Apollo next awoke, he realized his was in a warm, comfortable bed. He opened his eyes, rolled over, and almost landed on a sleeping, naked Starbuck. As his eyes travelled down the beautiful body, he noted the bruises from when his best friend tried to save him. His green orbs locked onto a magnificent erection. {Is he dreaming of me?} Apollo wondered.
Deciding he better not wait until the man woke up, Apollo bent down and licked the steel hard cock. If only this had happened before, when he was at least Starbuck's equal. He pulled the organ into his mouth, and tugged lovingly.
Starbuck murmured his appreciation, then realized this was not part of his dream. His eyes shot open, and he watched Apollo administering to him. Without hesitation, he sat up and pulled away. "What are you doing?"
Apollo looked up in terror. "I'm sorry, Master. I was trying to relieve you."
The Captain reached up and tenderly stroked Apollo's jaw. "You don't have to." It then dawned on him exactly what his best friend had said. "Apollo, why are you calling me 'Master'?"
The other bowed in shame. "You told me to. You said once you beat Besley, you would be my new master."
Starbuck pulled him close and held him. "'Pollo, I said that for Besley's benefit, I didn't mean it. You're free now, you can do what *you* want."
Apollo wanted to believe him, but he had been fed this line before. They would lull you into believing you made your own choices, but the first time you denied them . . . Lifting his head he kissed Starbuck, wanting to get passed the false promises. His fears were justified when he felt his friend's tongue slip into his mouth.
"He likes it when you take his ass," a young voice stated from the doorway.
Starbuck broke away, and stared at the intruder. If there was ever something so ill timed. "Troy? How'd you get in here?"
The young man grinned at the annoyance in his ex-lover's voice. "You really should change your passcode, Bucko." He turned to the other, ran, and hugged him. "Father. It's good to see you."
Apollo had tears in his eyes as he recognized the man holding him. "Boxey," he cried, never wanting to let go.
In the midst of the family reunion, Starbuck felt out of place in his own bedroom. Coughing for attention, he smiled. "So, what brings ya by, kid?"
Troy disentangled himself, feeling the reluctance from his father. "Don't you remember? Dillon and I are playing Triad today." He rolled his eyes. "You forgot, didn't you?" he whined, in true teen form.
Starbuck laughed. "Of course I didn't. You up for it, Apollo?"
He knew he had no real choice, but he didn't want Troy to know how passive and submissive he was. He turned to the expressive, hopeful brown eyes. "How could I refuse?"
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Apollo and Starbuck nearly fell into the locker room after the game. Starbuck turned and grinned at his teammate. "Feels good to wear the blue again, doesn't it?" he gasped. "Do you ever remember having as much energy as those two?"
Apollo shook his head. He noticed how tired Starbuck looked, and sat his friend on the bench. The Captain watched as Apollo removed his boots, and leaned back unconsciously when he began massaging his feet. "That feels good, 'Pol."
The other smiled in gratitude. The one thing he could say about Starbuck was that he wasn't a vengeful or violent master. Apollo feared the day he would anger Starbuck. His ministrations proved pleasing as Starbuck writhed when he began licking the foot clean.
The Captain began to giggle just as Apollo's tongue reached his toes. "Stop, that tickles!" His best friend instantly ceased. Starbuck looked down and saw the green fear. "Sagan, Apollo. I'm not mad at you. It's just that you don't have to do this. I can get a turbowash."
"I'm sorry," Apollo replied, meekly. Now he'd done it. Who would Starbuck give him to now that he'd displeased him? No one wanted a slave with independent thought.
Starbuck fell to his knees next to his friend. He didn't know what he was thinking, but he knew Apollo was scared. Getting an idea, he smiled. "Take off the top of your suit, and lay on the bench."
{Oh, Lords. Here it comes} Apollo thought. He did so without a sound, not wanting to further anger his master. He had to bite back a moan when he felt strong, gentle hands kneading his shoulders.
Starbuck smiled as he saw Apollo's eyes close. {Maybe this will convince him} he hoped. He kneaded and rubbed the tension and knots out of his best friend, working his way down Apollo's long, muscular back. Try as he might, his body wouldn't listen. Having his hands on this bare back was more than he could handle. Still massaging with one hand, he removed his own restrictive cup, to ease the pain.
Apollo didn't have to open his eyes to know what Starbuck was doing. Blindly, he reached out and took hold of the organ. He heard Starbuck groan when he began fondling him. Sitting up, he pulled the man's lower uniform down, and took the shaft into his mouth.
Even if he wanted to, Starbuck's will power wasn't strong enough to pull back this time. Instead he found himself moving forward into the hot mouth, feeling the velvet muscle lashing around him. He gripped Apollo's shoulders, and hoped to all that was holy that he wasn't hurting his best friend. His very talented best friend.
Apollo let his tongue travel the length as he took the entire cock into his mouth. He gently grazed his bottom teeth along the underside, elliciting a satisfied groan. Remembering Troy's words, he gripped the smooth, muscled buttocks, and waited.
When Starbuck couldn't hold on any longer, he thrust against Apollo. At that moment he felt a finger penetrate him and graze his prostate. It forced him still forward, and he heard Apollo's head hit the wall. He didn't have time to react as his orgasm ripped through him. Starbuck let out a primal roar, and would have collapsed if it weren't for Apollo's digit still impaling him.
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When they got back to his quarters, Staruck went straight to his desk to finish off the reports of secton's end. A few microns passed and a drink was placed before him, a few more and a plate of protein and mushies sat beside it. He looked up in time to see Apollo sit at his feet, awaiting the next command. Starbuck looked from the food to his friend. "Aren't you having anything?"
Apollo refused to meet his eyes. "I'm not hungry," he replied, quietly.
The Captain picked up a mushie cube and held it out. "Don't tell me that. You haven't eaten since I did, and I'm hungry."
Without touching the cube, Apollo knelt up and took it with his teeth. He sat back on his heels, and chewed thankfully. Starbuck stared in awe as he passed him another one. He wondered if Apollo would have waited until he fell asleep to eat something. Since that was a good ten centares away, he hoped he was wrong. He saw Apollo had resumed his cross-legged position, and realized it was because he hadn't offered any more food. He quickly handed him another, and got up from his desk. Going to the kitchen area, he fixed a plate for his best friend.
Upon returning he noticed that Apollo was rapidly turning red. He dropped the plate on the desk, and crouched beside him. "'Pollo, what's wrong?"
He didn't answer, or rather couldn't as he began to turn purple. Starbuck hauled him to his feet, grabbed him from behind, and tugged once, hard. A piece of mushie flew across the room as Apollo gasped for air. Recovering, he ran to the piece of mushie, and without wiping it off, popped it back in his mouth.
Starbuck was disgusted by the display. "You could've left it, I brought you a plate of unchewed food."
Apollo hurried over, and made short work of the plate's contents. He wanted to get as much of it put away, before Starbuck changed his mind. The Captain noticed the fleeting glance at his drink, and handed it to him. "Why didn't you take a sip when you were choking?"
Apollo took the smallest sip possible to wet his dry pipes, and replaced the glass. "You didn't want me to drink."
Starbuck was angered by the sudden submission his best friend had taken. "Sagan, Apollo! You were choking! What if I'd gone to the turbowash, you could've *at least* passed out. Damn it, take a drink if you have to!"
{Now I've done it} Apollo realized. {He'll beat me for sure now. His only slave almost dies, of course he's angry.} He knelt before his master, and awaited punishment. When Starbuck just stood there staring at him, Apollo reached up and began massaging him through his trousers. He heard the subtle moan, and took his cue to continue. Still fondling him, he began to pull the pants down with his other hand.
Coming back to his sense, Starbuck grabbed Apollo's wrists and wrenched him to his feet. "I told you, I don't want that!!" He realized he was being hypocritical from a centare ago, when his friend began to nuzzle his neck. "I said no!" Starbuck growled as he shoved Apollo away.
The other skidded against the wall, and lay in a heap. He didn't dare move. He may not look it, but Starbuck was strong. He had after all attacked Besley. Apollo closed his eyes to push away the images that thought arose. He had seen Sire Besley in the Life Center, and knew the same fate now awaited him. When nothing was forth coming, he opened his eyes slowly and realized he was alone. {Of course you're alone, slave} he chided himself. {You're not even worthy of punishment.}
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Starbuck found the boys in Dillon's quarters, laying in bed together. He shook his head at their seemingly endless energy. The boys dressed quickly, and Dillon made a lame excuse and get away. He knew he shouldn't, but sometimes he felt uneasy around Starbuck, being the old boyfriend and all.
Starbuck explained the incident in the locker room, and the one in his quarters. "I just don't get it, Troy. With you, it was so easy."
Troy nodded in sympathy. "You have to remember I'm a kid, Bucko. Statistically, we bounce back easier than adults."
"I know, but this is ridiculous. I understand letting him do what he did was probably not a good idea, but he's changed in the past few centares. He won't do anything without my say so, and he cringes at the slightest change in my tone."
"You're his master now," Troy said, matter-of-factly. He placed a hand on the older man's shoulder. "Maybe the best thing is to play the role he expects."
Starbuck looked mortified. "I can't do that! It would hurt me almost as much as him. I'm not going to strike him, Troy!"
The young man pulled him into a hug. "I'm not asking you to. Be yourself, but more aggressive. He expects to be ordered around, so do it. Just make sure that when you get him into bed or wherever, that he understands that you're equals. Eventually, he will come around, Starbuck."
The Captain let the words sink in, knowing it was his only option. He badly needed to change the subject. "So, how are things with you and Dillon?" The younger man rolled his eyes. "That bad?"
Troy shook his head. "No. It's just that he's still trying to talk me into enlisting with him. We had a fight about it earlier."
Starbuck smiled, knowingly. "Aah. So that's what I saw when I walked in. You always gave the best sex after a fight."
Troy's eyebrows raised. "Knowing that, maybe I should fight with him more often." Starbuck laughed, but frowned. Troy rubbed his arm. "I'm sorry."
"No, it's alright. I know we can't be together."
Troy looked at him. "Do you love my father, Starbuck?" he asked in all sincerity.
The Captain smiled. "I always have. Now, I just have to convince him of that."
"Just let your heart do the talking when the time comes," Troy said as he opened the door.
Starbuck turned to him before leaving. "If I'm the older one, how come you've got all the advice?"
@@@@@
Starbuck went back to his quarters, his conversation with Troy running through his head. How was he expected to play 'Master'? He barely liked ordering his warrior subordinates around. The first thing Apollo did, when the Captain walked through the door, was fall to his knees.
It took him a micron, but Starbuck realized as slave, Apollo wasn't permitted to be taller than him. "Very good," he forced out. "Now, pour me a drink."
It broke his heart to see how quickly Apollo complied with his wishes. He sat down, sipping at the ambrosia. He watched as his best friend sat on the floor by his feet. Remembering the IFB report was on, he made to grab the controller from the table. Apollo was faster, and clicked on the viewer.
The Captain quickly realized just how fast he could get used to this; someone waiting on him hand and foot. He pushed the thought away with a shudder. This was his best friend acting like this, there had to be a way to get his confidence back.
He smiled down at him. "What'd you do while I was gone?"
"Nothing," Apollo replied quickly, hearing an unintended accusation.
Starbuck sighed, how he wished he could have a real conversation. At least he could try. "Come here." Apollo quickly did as he was told, slouching just enough. "Did you have fun playing Triad today?"
"Yes."
"You made some good shots. I think the old moves really surprised Troy and Dillon."
"Thank you, Master."
Starbuck cringed. He hated that word even more than having to talk to his best friend as if he were a child. But if Troy was right, this would be how things would go for awhile yet.
@@@@@
Starbuck awoke in the middle of the night. He glanced down to see Apollo sleeping beside the bed. He didn't care what Troy said, he wasn't going to let his best friend sleep naked on the floor. Leaning over the side, he nudged the unconscious form. "'Pollo, come up here."
Apollo's eyes opened, and he sleepily obeyed. As Starbuck attempted to cover him, Apollo reached over and grabbed his master's cock. The Captain's first reaction was to pull away, but maybe this was a good time to start. He gently pushed Apollo onto his back, and leaned in to kiss him.
The slave's mind reeled at the tenderness of the gesture. He tried once again to stroke Starbuck, but he was pushed away. The Captain looked down at him. "This is your time."
Starbuck made his way down Apollo's body with mouth and hands. It was almost impossible for him to know what was pleasuring his best friend, except for the occasional twitch of his shaft. Starbuck tried to concentrate on areas that got a reaction from that region, since his lover refused to make a sound.
Apollo couldn't understand what was happening. He had done this to various masters over the yahrens, but they had never pleasured him. Why was Starbuck teasing him like this? He went over the day's events and couldn't find anything he'd done to warrant punishment. Would his old best friend finish what he was doing? Or was this some torture he had never been victim of? His mind was torn between the pleasure and the images of what this could become.
Usually Starbuck would tease his lovers at this point with tiny licks on the head, waiting until they were writhing and begging him, but he couldn't do that this time. Apollo still seemed to be confused by his actions, and direct was the best approach. Locking eyes with his lover one last time, Starbuck dove down on the engorged organ, taking it nearly to the hilt.
Apollo's head fell back against the pillow, he wanted desparately to cry out, but feared his master would realize he was more than enjoying this and stop. He couldn't believe it, Starbuck was actually going through with it. He began to shudder with pleasure, and his eyes widened in fear. What would his master want in return? Surely such an act warranted more than a turn in his ass.
Starbuck massaged his lover's sac while thrusting his mouth on the shaft. He felt the scrotum tighten under his hand, and was amazed that Apollo had enough control not to thrust up. It was then that he realized that is wasn't control, but fear. The same fear that was keeping him from climaxing. Well, if he wasn't going to do it on his own, Starbuck was just going to have to help him.
Apollo felt the nip at his base, but he held on. Maybe if he didn't cum, his master wouldn't expect him to reciprocate. Then again, if he didn't, would that anger Starbuck? The choice was taken away from him when he felt the finger enter him. He felt it repeatedly graze his prostate, and was barely able to hold on. He lost the battle when the Captain grazed him, at the same time as another nip to the base.
Tears welled in Starbuck's eyes as he swallowed Apollo's seed. It wasn't that he'd finally been able to give his best friend release, but the scream of ecstasy that accompanied it. He crawled up and lay beside his lover.
When he was able to move, Apollo made yet another grab for Starbuck's hard shaft. The Captain took his hands. "'Pollo, no. You don't understand. Watch." As he watched, Starbuck willed himself to relax. "You see. Tonight was for you. From now on, it'll always be about you."
@@@@@
A secton later things hadn't changed. Starbuck had tried everything he could think of, and nothing worked. He stood outside Dillon's quarters, and waited. The Captain had been told as an after thought that Troy was now living there. {He moves fast when he wants to} Starbuck thought.
He almost thought he had the wrong quarters when a handsome young man in a cadet uniform opened the door, and did a double take. "Troy??"
The boy smiled. "Yeah. Don't ask me how it happened. I woke up this morning and this thing seems to be glued to me."
The Captain saluted him. "You look good, Cadet."
Troy waved him away. "Please don't. I'm not used to it yet . . . *Sir*." He moved, and his superior walked in. "What brings you by, Sir?"
Starbuck rolled his eyes. "Cool the 'sir' stuff until you have to. What else would bring me by? Troy, Apollo's not getting any better."
The Cadet poured two drinks and joined him on the longseat. "Did you do what I suggested?"
"I've been doing nothing else," he answered, testily. "I've made love to him every night without letting him reciprocate. Everytime I think he's starting to come around, he's back to being the slave by morning."
Troy nodded, even he hadn't thought it would take this long. "Have you tried talking to him? About this or anything?"
The Captain stared at him. "Of course I have. He gives clipped answers, and I feel like I'm interrogating a prisoner. If he calls me 'Master' one more time, I swear I'm going to lose it!"
Troy placed a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Don't do that. You'll lose him, for sure."
When Starbuck looked up he had tears streaming down his face. "What am I supposed to do, Troy? I just want my best friend back."
The younger man pulled him into an embrace. "I know, Starbuck." He thought for a centon. "I have an idea."
Starbuck looked up at him. "Why do you have that look?"
"What look?" Troy asked, innocently.
The Captain shook his head. "That look that makes me say 'I don't even want to know.'"
Troy grinned, boyishly. "Okay, then I won't tell you. You'll know when it comes. Just remember to play it up. Keep thinking 'I'm the victim.'"
@@@@@
It had been three days since Troy's 'warning'. Starbuck was beginning to get paranoid. He was jumping at the slightest things, even when the door chime sounded. He opened the door and blinked. "Dillon?"
The young man silently asked if Apollo was in, and the Captain nodded. "I need to talk to you, *Sir*," Dillon hissed, loud enough for his audience.
Starbuck instantly realized that this was whatever Troy had planned, and quickly ushered the boy in. Dillon silently apologized before shoving the Captain. "I've told you to leave my boyfriend alone. He's not yours anymore." He shoved him again. "Now I'm gonna make sure."
{Frak, this kid is good} Starbuck thought half a micron before he was eating Dillon's knuckles. He dramatically fell back onto the floor. "Dillon, no! I'm s-sorry, I'll stay away. I-I p-promise," he pleaded, urgently.
The younger man wanted to laugh at Starbuck's performance, he'd have to tell Troy about it. "It's too late for that! I'm gonna put you in your place."
Apollo appeared in the bedroom doorway. His eyes widened at the sight of his son's friend attacking his master. Starbuck seemed to be genuinely afraid of the boy. So much so that he wasn't even trying to fight back. Apollo wanted to jump in and help him, but he remembered a time much like this. His then master had been furious at his intervention, even though the man would have been killed.
Dillon flipped Starbuck onto his stomach, and lay atop. A glance to their audience gave him pause. He leaned into the older man's ear. "He's not moving," he whispered.
The Captain couldn't help but notice his faux opponent's arousal. "Do it," he hissed.
"I'm sorry," Dillon whispered as he grabbed Starbuck's trousers and hauled them around his knees. {Sagan, he's beautiful} he thought, and faltered for a micron. Too bad he couldn't do this for real sometime.
Dillon was brought back to reality when Starbuck pleaded, "No, don't please. I promise I'll stay away."
"It's too late for that," the young man scoffed. He pulled his own pants down half way, and readied himself over his 'victim'.
Apollo didn't care what Starbuck did to him, he wasn't going to let this kid hurt his best friend. He charged and, throwing Dillon off of the Captain, they rolled into the wall. All Apollo saw was red as he repeatedly drove his fists into the little daggit.
{Frak, he's gonna kill him} Starbuck realized. Getting to his hands and knees, he crawled over and pulled Apollo off of the already bleeding Dillon. He wrapped his arms around his lover's neck and sobbed. "Oh, Apollo. You saved me."
Dillon levered himself off the floor, and nodded to Starbuck before staggering out. Troy would hear about this! Especially after Apollo tried to kick the shit out of him!
Apollo held protectively to Starbuck. "It's okay. He didn't hurt you."
@@@@@
Troy threw the damp cloth on the floor and gathered Dillon into his arms. "You done good, lover."
Dillon scoffed. "You could've warned me that your father's a Hades-felix! I was against the wall before I knew what hit me."
Troy kissed the blonde head. "Well, now you know where I get it from." He softly poked his man in the ribs. "Don't you remember calling me a 'cheat'?"
How could he forget? They had just met, and were playing pyramid. One micron they were fine and the next Troy was trying to turn him inside out. He turned in the darker boy's arms and pulled him into a laying position. Kissing him passionately, Dillon smiled. "You know what violence does to me."
Troy laughed and stroked his lover's erection. "Do I ever!" In a blinding micron he had Dillon naked, underneath him. "How'd you control yourself with Starbuck?"
Dillon lowered his partner's trousers, licked his finger, and inserted it. He smiled as Troy thrust against him when he grazed the prostate. A few more passes and his lover shot out between them. The blonde gathered the limp body into his arms and waited for reality to return to Troy.
Kissing him, he smiled. "I almost didn't. Sagan, kid, you didn't tell me he was so beautiful." Dillon ran his fingers through the dark hair, hesitating. "If you don't want to, I'll understand . . . Do you think when everything's alright with your father that Starbuck might want to join us sometime?"
Troy kissed him, ravenously. "Two beautiful blondes to myself? Why wouldn't I want to?" He licked his way down the lean body, stopping just before the crucial point; a tiny, teasing lick to the head. "But once you've had the Captain, how do I know you'll come back to me?" he asked jokingly, knowing full well the answer.
Dillon seemed to hem and haw before an impish grin formed. "Do that thing I like, and I'm yours forever."
Without a word Troy flipped him onto his stomach. Laying between the parted legs, he thrust his tongue into his lover's hole. Dillon writhed and gripped the pillow. Troy reached up, taking hold of the sac, he massaged it until it tightened. Dillon came screaming, "FOR-EVER!!"
@@@@@
Apollo carried an exhausted Starbuck to his bed. Laying him down, he pulled the covers up and attempted to leave. Starbuck grabbed his wrist. "Don't go," he pleaded.
Smiling down into the concerned eyes, he climbed in and pulled him close. "You don't have to worry. He won't be back."
The Captain leaned into the muscled shoulder and wrapped his arms around the slim waist. "I love you, 'Pol."
Apollo's eyes filled. If only it were true. "Ssh. You're tired, Starbuck."
His head snapped up. "That's the first time you've used my name," he stated the obvious.
The taller man frowned. "Do you not want me to? I thought -"
His words were cut off as Starbuck kissed him tenderly. He stroked his best friend's face, hoping this was a good sign. "Love, do you remember what I told you after you caught Ortega's killer?"
How could he forget? Apollo nodded, then shook his head. "You're wrong," he whispered. "It's me who owes you my life."
It was Starbuck's turn to be teary eyed. "Let's just say we're even." He hesitated, but needed to ask. "Will you stay with me, Apollo?"
He frowned. Had Starbuck gotten too used to it? Would he be angered if he left? He couldn't risk that. "I belong to you, Starbuck. I won't leave." . . . {Even if I could} he thought.
The Captain didn't catch the double meaning, and kissed his equal. Leaning against is best friend's chest, he fell into a contented, and finally relaxed, sleep.
THE END