{Somewhere he belongs}
     He heard the metal creak as the key pressed into the lock to free him and Aoba wiped his face. Despite his sorriness moments prior, he couldnât bring himself to show his tears soaked face to Virus or Trip. Showing them that much would be admitting to weakness, which he was not ready to give. The satisfaction on their features alone would be enough to anger him anyway. He was thirsty, angry and hungry, the stench inside the box reminding him he had spent 3 days in there restraining his own body to not soil himself. The skin of his stomach was slightly swollen and visibly tensed and once his gaze locked with Virus, he felt that cold rain wash over his back once more. Sweaty and disgusting, he allowed himself to lower his head for now.
Donât think. Donât tremble. Donât give in.
     Aoba gritted his teeth and got on his knees inside the box, sandy eyes locking up on Virus first. The smile on the blondâs face was disgusting but he quickly nodded at him to let him know he had understood his lesson. âYes, Virus. Iâm sorry I acted up.ââ This wouldnât be the only time he would do in the box and he knew it. Despite knowing heâd try his best to avoid this punishment at all cost, heâd probably end up locked again. His claustrophobia would be showing and assuredly, it would be a tool the men wouldnât think twice about using against him. That and the fact that his hair was sensitive. He was probably going to be in for a lot of hair pulling and torture.
     But then his gaze locked with Trip and he could feel something churn in his stomach. If he thought that Virus smirk was disgusting, the cold and detached look Trip was giving him was absolutely frightening. He had always feared Trip more than he did Virus, but his suspicions now confirmed themselves upon the glass free gaze of the blond. He couldnât bear looking at him for too long and after maybe half a minute of staring, he lowered his head again. Tentatively, he crawled out of the box but remained on his knees, unsure whether or not he had the right to take the initiative too. All he knew is that he wanted out of it.
      And now he had to beg to receive the basic needs of his body.
âIâm..thirsty.ââ
     Three days without food or water does soften up the man.
â Fear permeated the air. Virus could taste the salty tang of it in their slowed breathing, their haunting stares, their bloodless mouths. Wordlessly, they spoke to each other about disgust and frustration and his smile could only widen.
  Let them.
Placed on either side of him, they were a pair of cornered animals; a predator staring down his prey, as both struggled to swallow the bile rising in their throats. So very different, but in their shared loathing for him they might find a measure of comfort.
  Let them.
Kneeling down to Aobaâs eye level, he took his handkerchief out and gently patted at the teary grime; fingers moving to push aside a wet lock of hair, light enough that the boy should feel neither cold nor pain from his touch.
"Aoba-san," Virus spoke and his voice was soaked in counterfeit concern, "promise you wonât make me do this again."
Behind his back, he could imagine Tripâs shoulders tensing; lips pressed together to conceal teeth already covered in the scent of death. The lion was aroused and not in a good way. Thinly veiled lies could not hide what he had in mind for Aoba when he demanded to have him for the night.
Do not harm his body, do not return him bruised -the rules had already been broken when Virus took away their beloved for three days, so why would his partner comply? Where Aoba feared for his life, Trip feared change, and the beast was more than ready to carve his feelings on the object of Virusâ affection.
  Let him.
In the end, Virus had enough patience to outlast the stars.
"There is tea and a warm bath waiting for you," he leaned in to kiss Aobaâs hands where his nails had bled from scratching against the iron. "Trip will carry you and I will wash your hair. Would you be happy with that?"
A token couple of seconds passed while he pretended to wait for an answer.
"As much as Iâd love to have you all to myself, Trip missed you terribly, so you will be sleeping in his bed tonight."
  I do not intend to miss a thing.
âWe know it must be painful,â Trip elaborated, his bored drawling decidedly less electric than he felt. It was always the same, current running beneath skin, fire blossoming in his chest, poison brewing in his belly, but his mask was exquisitely carved from ice, reflected in his eyes.
âAoba has been in the box a long time. His legs must be sore and his body must be weak. We will take him to the bath and clean him up, then itâs off to the fresh sheets.â
We, as Trip could not and would not bear such sweetness to Aoba after such words from Virus. He could only speak of their concern without it being a lie, of how they wished to make up for his own bad behaviour and the assigned punishment. The punishment he had decided that they obeyed.Â
âIâll make sure youâre well fed,â he promised with the vaguest curve of his lip. âWeâll spend the whole evening in bed, catching up and eating, relaxing with Welter...â
His voice dipped, just shy of a growl as the ghost of his sneer bled into his smile.
â...everything youâve missed these three days.â
