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“Trapped.”

“No,” he shook his head after only a moment’s hesitation, glancing down at his plate before changing his mind. “Well, yes, but not by you, and not really any more so than I was before I came here. Before, I lived on the streets. I was trapped by the constant threat of death and violence and starvation. I slept with one eye open. Each bite of food was stolen and guarded. There was never enough, I was always hungry and I was always afraid. Here, I’m trapped by these four walls, but I’m also protected by them.”

He gestured with his hands, “Outside, the death, violence and hunger waits just the same. But in here, even though I’m a prisoner, I’m also free in a way that I never was before. I have everything I need, and it's all thanks to you.”

It was the most Toran had ever heard him say, and with each word, he felt something in his chest growing and expanding, becoming something bright, burning, as he struggled to keep his emotions contained.

Jesse looked shyly up at him, “You know, the doctor told me I was lucky to have caught your eye. Back then, I couldn’t understand that. But now, I get it. You are a good man, as good as you can be in a place like this. You’ve never hurt me or forced me. You could beat me, rape me, keep me tied to the bed like a dog, feed me your scraps and there’d be nothing I could do about it. The other men probably would. Instead, you make sure I’m warm and comfortable, that I have nice clothes and books to read and all the delicious food I could ever want. And you ask for nothing in return. I don’t understand it, but I’m so grateful. I kept waiting for the other shoe to drop, but….”

His voice trailed off and he shook his head, “I thought you were a monster, but instead...you’re kind and gentle…and you care about me, I think.”

Jesse’s voice caught on the last words because his throat had closed with tears. He didn’t know why he’d suddenly said all that, except that it had been weighing on his mind for weeks. When he finally flicked his gaze back to Toran, he was looking back at him so intensely his breath stopped. His black eyes shone brightly, searching his face like he was memorizing it. He reached up with his free hand and then leaned in over the table slowly, giving Jesse plenty of opportunity to pull away before their lips would meet. Jesse realized he was giving him a choice.

He didn’t move. He didn’t even breathe.

The kiss was so heartbreakingly tender. His heart beat like a bird’s wings against his ribs at the soft brush of Toran’s mouth and the way his fingers trailed along his neck. Those strong, calloused hands touched him like he was made of glass.

Toran’s mouth moved near his temple and he could feel his hair stir as the man gently kissed across the soft skin there. Jesse waited patiently for him to say something. When Toran finally pulled back, Jesse felt breathless.

“I do care,” Toran said finally.

He continued to wait but it soon became clear that was all Toran intended to say in response to Jesse’s impassioned speech. He was a man of few words. A laugh welled in his chest and burst out, loud and happy. Toran looked at him in surprise. “What is so amusing?”

Jesse dissolved into snickering giggles.

Toran scowled and Jesse only laughed harder. He felt silly and lightheaded and hysterical. It was because he’d just put into words the realization that had been slowly coming into his mind over the past few weeks. And now that he’d finally voiced it, he realized how true it was. Toran genuinely cared about him. Whether it was as an object or a person, that remained to be seen; regardless, Jesse belonged to Toran and the one thing that Jesse had learned about Toran was that he took care of his possessions. Like a dragon hoarding his treasures, he was protective of them and meticulous in the upkeep. If there was so much as a squeaky hinge in their cabin, Toran fixed it immediately. The antique books and magazines looked untouched, without so much as a curled page, and he handled them with the utmost of care- the same way he handled Jesse.

The fact that he was ‘owned’ still rankled in Jesse’s heart, but he had accepted the fact that if he had to be owned by someone, he would want it to be Toran. If given a choice, he would choose Toran. So, maybe, that was almost as good as free choice.

Toran’s frown of concern turned to one of confusion, which didn't help the bout of mirth, and Jesse finally calmed down enough to wipe the dampness from his eyes. Toran took his face in his large hands, examining it with a frown.

“Why are you crying?" he rumbled softly.

"I don’t know," Jesse murmured back. The frown only darkened. He sighed and shook his head, trying to explain, “I guess I just, I was afraid for so long, even before I came here. And I realized that I’m not...anymore. And I’m not unhappy either. And, I didn’t expect it. But it's true.”

“You aren’t unhappy?” Toran’s expression cleared.

“No.”

“Then that means you are happy. And that I’m a good husband,” his smile was proud.

Jesse rolled his eyes at the look of smug satisfaction on Toran’s face, but he couldn’t hide his own smile, “Yes, I guess it does.”

“Hmm,” Toran grunted. His arm caught Jesse about the waist, pulled him up from his seat, and then down on top of his lap. The boy wriggled to get free, but it was useless. There was no escaping that grip. Even one of his massive arms was enough to easily encircle his waist and keep him pinned. He poked at the thick bicep which pressed against his ribs. Instead of giving, it flexed and crushed him even tighter against Toran’s chest.

Toran ignored his struggles and took a forkful of buttered potatoes from his own plate and held it up to Jesse’s mouth. Never one to turn down food, he opened his mouth obediently and let Toran spoon feed him like a child. He fed him several bites of steak and held up his cup so Jesse could wash it down.

“You’re a good wife too. You make me very happy.”

“I don’t do very much,” Jesse said softly.

“You don’t have to. Your presence is enjoyable. And you are soft to touch and beautiful to look at...and responsive to me. ”

Toran’s mouth closed and his lips firmed as if he’d revealed too much. Jesse knew that emotions were hard for Toran to vocalize. He knew instinctively that what he’d said was just the tip of the iceberg. He softened against him and gave in with a sigh. He turned and adjusted so that he was leaning into him, his cheek now against Toran’s chest and his head tucked beneath his chin.

“I’d like to do more for you.”

“You could wear your red lipstick again,” Toran growled huskily into his ear.