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There was a moment where Ctirad thought that he’d given the wrong answer, that Sir was going to be irritated with him or, worse, dismissive. Then the arms around him shifted until a hand was patting his shoulder. “You know, Ermenrich sold you far too cheaply. You’re a treasure.”

The praise filled him with warmth, the way it always did. Ctirad let himself stay as he was, leaned against Sir’s chest. It was nice, while it lasted. And it was a drug, but it wasn’t a drug he had any control over, so there was no point in worrying about it. “I’m glad you approve, sir.”

“All right. Keep your eyes closed, and I’m going to lead you out to my car. It’s not that far from here. Tell – no. Can you tell me something about yourself, while we walk?”

Sir moved until his arm was around Ctirad’s waist, and, feeling daring, Ctirad moved his own arm lightly around Sir’s waist. “Well.” He coughed, a little amused despite the situation. “I’m not straight. And I knew that before I got collared. But there’s uh. Something different about it when you’re not pretending for anyone but your Owner, you know?”

“I have some idea. All right, it’s level for a bit here, so we’re just walking forward. Easy, there you go.”

Ctirad’s legs had woken up, but he let himself lean on Sir anyway. It felt warm and easy, and he was going to take it while it lasted.

“So, pretending for your Owner?” Sir’s voice was quiet, kinda thoughtful. “You do a lot of that?”

“…Fuck, don’t order me not to. Please. Sir.” He knew he didn’t sound submissive. He couldn’t make himself sound submissive about that. He cleared his throat and tried for explanation instead. “Orders like that, they fuck with your head.”

Sir’s chuckle was low and warm. “I won’t. But I might ask you, a few times over the first months, if you’re pretending.”

“…In private? Sir.” Ctirad swallowed. The public humiliations had been the worst. The part where he knew he couldn’t go back to being who he was, that was a ship long sailed. But the part where he had to work with those people and he was made to grovel…

“In private.” Sir squeezed Ctirad’s hip lightly. “In public, I’m not going to give you orders. I’m going to treat you as something between a bodyguard, an assistant, and a boyfriend. We’ll worry about the orders for that later. In private – well, in private, you’re mine.”

His voice was warm and throaty. Ctirad thought that Sir was very pleased with the idea. “I’m yours, sir.” At the moment, he thought he was pretty pleased with the notion, too.

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