Danse Macabre (Sanders Sides)

Chapter 3

When Janus finally comes for him, it's with blinding light spilling from the open door and a shadowy figure bending before him. Virgil blinks and whines as his eyes adjust and Janus' face comes gradually into focus. He brushes his thumb along Virgil's cheekbone, ever so gently, and Virgil shatters beneath his hands.
"Please, master," he begs, words catching on the sob building in his throat. "Please take me with you, please, I'll do anything you want."
"But Virgil," Janus replies, mismatched eyes gazing shrewdly into his. "What if you're already doing exactly what I want?"
Virgil's racing mind grinds to a halt. In all his time here, all the awful scenarios he conjured, he never imagined that Janus might simply keep him locked away in the dark like this. Janus snickers nastily at the look of horror on Virgil's face.
"Only teasing, dearie, don't be so dramatic. Up you get, now." Virgil stumbles to his feet and manages a solid half-step before promptly collapsing into Janus' arms, dehydration and starvation making him weak and dizzy. The touch is almost too much after so long spent deprived, but at the same time it's nowhere near enough to quell the shudders racking Virgil's body. Janus carries him easily back to the chaise Virgil first woke up on, tugging him into his lap when he sits down.
He feeds Virgil fruit and nuts by hand, crooning his approval when Virgil licks his fingers clean after every bite. Virgil is so hungry the humiliation of the act barely registers. Water is next, slow sips from a crystal goblet. When Virgil tries to grab it Janus only tuts and pulls away, so he resigns himself to opening his mouth when Janus tilts the glass. He feels like a baby being bottlefed, which is probably mostly the point.
Their faces are far too close together and Virgil starts to prepare himself for what is bound to come next, but it doesn't happen.
Instead Janus sets the empty cup back down and lets Virgil slide off his lap. He cuddles him against his side, probably enjoying the warmth of the contact as much as Virgil is beginning to hate the faint cold-blooded chill of Janus' skin on his. But if Janus is touching him that means he's not alone, so Virgil melts into the embrace and does his best to enjoy it. It's certainly much better than the alternative, which is nothing at all.
He flushes at the moan that slips out of his mouth when Janus starts scratching his head. The fae smiles fondly at Virgil's embarrassment and does it again, enjoying Virgil's sensitivity to even the most chaste touches.
"Does that feel good, pretty pet?" He asks, and Virgil doesn't want to answer, because if he knows Virgil likes it then he might take it away just to watch him cry. But if he makes his master annoyed at him then it's back in the dark for Virgil and he wants that even less.
"Yes, master," Virgil admits, hating himself. He clamps a hand over his mouth to muffle the whimper he feels rising in his throat, but Janus pries it away with a inexorably gentle grip.
"None of that, darkling," he chides. "I want to hear all the needy little noises you make for me." Virgil's face goes impossibly redder, but Janus' hand in his hair is just firm enough that he can't turn his head.
"Yes, master," he says quietly, and then yelps as Janus' other hand lets go of his and slides beneath his shirt.
"That's it, baby boy, just like that," Janus coos, gently stroking his bare waist with cold fingers. Virgil wants to tell him to stop, to get his hands off him, but he doesn't say either of those things. He hates himself for acting this way, soft and docile like the pet he swore he would never become, but Janus is a force of nature he can't hope to resist. He makes pathetic little grunting noises and squirms under Janus' touch, but he doesn't dare move away as those chill hands explore his body.
"It's alright," Janus soothes him absently, eyes following the path of his own fingers beneath Virgil's clothes. It's strangely intimate for all its chasteness, more violating than anything Virgil has ever felt, but it's so, so much better than the doorless room. Janus finally withdraws, and Virgil is ashamed to hear the cry that escapes his lips when he does. He hadn't realized how much he craved the touch until it was taken away.
"Don't stop," he begs, breath hitching with the beginnings of a sob. "Please, master, keep going."
"Poor baby, of course," Janus says sweetly. "All you had to do was ask." One hand steadying Virgil's waist, he gently rubs his back beneath his shirt, the touch of his fingertips sending sparks up his spine. Virgil shudders and relaxes, making breathy sighs of pleasure at the touch.
"Good boy," croons Janus. "So long as you behave yourself you'll never have to go back in the dark again, now doesn't that sound nice?"
"Yes," says Virgil, hands fisting themselves in Janus' shirt of their own accord. "Yes, please. Anything." Janus' eyes narrow.
"Say that again," he breathes.
"Anything for you, anything." He's dimly aware of the embarrassment of begging, but Virgil can't bring himself to care. He's just been handed a foolproof guide to "Not Ending Up Back In The Doorless Room For Dummies" and he is not going to mess this up. Janus' answering smile makes it worthwhile anyway.
They sit like that for a while, Virgil tucked up under Janus' arm, before he realizes how exhausted he is. He hasn't slept since the day he was taken, too afraid of the empty darkness of his prison to relax. Now, faced with the barest modicum of safety, his body is shutting down.
"Are you tired, darkling?" Janus asks, noticing the yawn Virgil stifles against his shoulder.
"Yes, master."
"Aww, let's get you to bed." When Janus stands he takes Virgil with him, and Virgil lets himself be cradled. It's easy to lose himself in the rhythmic sway of Janus' gait. He's laid out on a soft bed and is fully prepared to fall asleep. Then cold hands start unzipping his sweatshirt.
"What are you doing?" Virgil tries to sound indignant, but it comes out as a squeak instead. He squirms, but Janus easily holds him down with one hand while he works the jacket off with the other.
"Don't be ridiculous; you can hardly sleep in these clothes."
"Yes I can! I can get changed by myself. Please just let me?" Virgil is already breaking his rule but he can't just say nothing in the face of this violation. Janus pauses and tilts his head, considering. He might actually back off.
"Hmm, no," he says. "You did promise anything Virgil; is it now so much to merely let me take care of you?" The threat of the doorless room is clear. Virgil deflates, letting Janus remove his dirty outfit and dress him in loose silk nightclothes. Janus changes similarly, a simple shirt and pants, and slides into bed beside him. Virgil braces himself for the worst, but Janus just says,
"There now, that wasn't so hard," and presses a quick kiss to his forehead. Virgil curls up in Janus' arms and lets the contact comfort him. It isn't as if he could sleep alone anymore besides.