das Nachspiel

xxi.

The moment Evan awoke, the first thing he became aware of was the itchy carpet beneath his aching body, how it was sticking to his sweat drenched face and how it wasn't there last night.

In a short jiffy, he ridiculously wondered if everything was just a big, horrendous nightmare. A hallucination probably caused by the drug gasses he was able to take a fast sniff as he unfortunately passed by it. That in reality, he was actually inside a cell somewhere deep in the new city, locked in with other inmates he couldn't see just yet.

But as he gently rolled over on his back, the cream coloured ceiling and other expensive paraphernalia screamed to him that this place wasn't even close to what a jail should look like.

He sat up a bit, elbows supporting his weak and straining upper half, when his peripheral vision suddenly caught a very familiar man sitting a few metres from where he was pathetically displayed; busy transferring and scanning papers after papers.

Evan gasped and on impulse, reversed away from Lieutenant Jones to curl up into a protective ball (to maybe hide away his embarrassment and retain what was left of his finger sized dignity) but abruptly stopped when his neck was suddenly pulled back in a jerk.

He blinked momentarily, dazed, and then his hands shoot up to confirm the object of his nightmares, and yes, there it was. The belt. Leather and black, and wicked. Secured around his neck, enough to prevent it from sagging down and let it sit there proudly. His mortified eyes followed the extended trail of dark cloth he just noticed and he guzzled down a good amount of spit when he realised there was a leash attached to it, the other end expertly hooked around a desk's handle.

"You're awake." Danveur suddenly spoke and spared him a brief glance before going back to his own mountain of paperwork.

Evan secretly finds that unfair and the short uncaring gesture left him with a pang of bitterness. Not even a short question of how he was doing or any 'sleep well?' after what he had done last night. But what was he expecting from an opposite side, really?

"Stop making that face."

He tensed for a bit but complied anyhow, shuffling around to give himself a considerable amount of limited space away from Danveur, though it wasn't really that necessary considering that Danveur was too absorbed with his job he could barely lift his head up to meet his gaze.

Minutes passed away with the slow ticking of the clock and Evan just sat there, wondering what the hell he should be doing other than sulk and mentally complain of how his arse still hurt. He was in the middle of scratching his arm repeatedly in frustration when a loud thud of a book cover being slammed shut startled him and prompted him to look up in Danveur's direction, albeit cautiously and shyly.

"You stink," He said, tone serious with his face placid and blank.

Evan has no reply to that. What could he say? Thank you? I'm sorry? He clandestinely tried to smell himself and the scent of his sweat mixed with something else... something thick and mildly strong (from last night's activity) hit his nose. He grimaced. He cringed.

Danveur huffed, turned away to stash his papers into one corner and rose to his feet, eyes then turned half lidded and now trained on Evan. "You smelled yourself," He noted with an amused tone, one eyebrow arched upwards.

The boy turned beet red. Danveur continues as he untied the knot from the handle, "Now that was funny. You look just like Braun after he pisses. Don't know why he does that, not all dogs do that, yes?"

Der hund. So the leash was actually from a dog, Evan thought, and he meekly nodded his head to what Danveur had said though he also has no idea why Braun does that.

"Now come." Danveur commanded, tugging the leash not so gently, making Evan slightly stumble forward, his face nearly crashing onto the side of the desk. "Now that you've borrowed Braun's leash, and you smelled yourself like him, why don't you crawl instead of walking for a complete and perfect effect?"

And crawl he did as he was told, knees scraping awkwardly along the hard floor until they reached the bathroom where Danveur slightly pulled him into the tub, scooping him under his armpits and placing him in as if his weight didn't matter. Not that he had any extra weight on him anyway.

"Ah, I should get you a proper collar. Not some stupid belt that I've randomly stolen." Danveur mumbled, mostly to himself as he unbutton the button of his cuffs and rolled them upwards to his elbows. "This isn't actually that fit."

The click and clack, then his neck felt bare and free as the object was removed and placed somewhere behind the Lieutenant. Away from where he was half lying in an empty tub.

The cold water came next and it splashed right on his feet when Danveur turned the tap on. The older man's eyes were set so hard on the top of his bowed head he could feel daggers stabbing him there.

"A-ah! The shirt, sir!" Evan yelped quickly as the water rushed and began soaking the only garment he was wearing. Didn't Danveur warned him last night not to ever wet it? Would he be really naked top to toe from now on after simply forgetting that?

His teeth chattered at the idea of walking around bare as a newborn child, scars and bruises littering everywhere.

Danveur, thankfully though, ignored this and continued to stare at whatever the hell he was staring at. A second after, he grabbed the hem and yanked it up, his dark gloves soaking as it momentarily dipped down and Evan quickly complied to make the job easier.

The shirt was tossed out of sight.

"You, uh..." Danveur, again, gave him a scrutinising gaze, head tipped to one side as if he was staring at a new specimen that made Evan think Danveur was... harmless, just interested. He thought other wise when a flash of mischief glimmered through his emerald eyes.

Danveur's palm slowly went up and laid flat on Evan's nape, gently squeezing it, feeling it. He then suddenly shoved him down into the water, bend his waist in half, laughed for a good twenty or so seconds at the gurgling noise he was making, and let him go as soon he began to thrash around a little more violently.

Evan was mortified, he couldn't think straight.

"You are highly amusing." Danveur stood up, wiping his face and dusting off water droplets from his uniform with a wicked grin etched on his face.

He turned, rummaged through a small closet and then tossed Evan a bottle of soap for his hair. The boy barely caught it with slippery hands and poor coordination, causing for the lid to pop open when the bottle hit against the wall. Then there was a smell that was so sweet, it reminded him of fresh green apples from home.

"You should use that," Another bottle and the label read apricot, for his skin maybe. "And that, too."

Evan felt awkward and didn't know what to do so he uttered a quiet and hurried thank you with his eyes cast down, staring at his distorted body beneath the water. He felt, rather than see, Danveur moved out and a soft click indicated to him that he was locked in.

He took his time cleaning himself down to every bit. Especially the insides of his backside and his mouth.