Elias stopped pretending he didn't know what he was doing.
The realization came quietly, without drama, as he stood in front of his mirror adjusting his cuffs for the third time. He had chosen the shirt deliberately. soft fabric, dark color, fitted just enough to hint rather than reveal. He told himself it was confidence. He knew better.
He was preparing.
Not for a meeting.
For Damien.
The thought sent a slow, dangerous thrill through him.
When he arrived at Blackwood Tower, no one stopped him. They never did anymore. The guards nodded. The elevator opened without question. Elias felt it then the subtle shift, the sense that he had crossed into territory that was no longer neutral.
The penthouse doors opened.
Damien was seated this time, reading, one leg crossed casually over the other. He looked relaxed. Too relaxed. As if he had been expecting Elias long before he arrived.
"You came early," Damien said without looking up.
Elias exhaled. "You didn't summon me."
"No," Damien replied. "I didn't."
The silence that followed was heavy, deliberate. Elias stood there, waiting. He hated how natural it felt.
Damien finally lifted his gaze, eyes sharp and unreadable. His attention moved slowly taking in Elias's posture, the way his shoulders were tense but not defensive, the way his hands were relaxed at his sides.
"You look… different," Damien said.
Elias bristled. "I didn't do this for you."
Damien smiled faintly. "No. You did it because you're curious what it feels like to be seen."
Damien rose, unhurried, closing the distance one measured step at a time. Elias didn't move. He felt the familiar tightening in his chest, the pull that had begun to feel inevitable.
"Sit," Damien said.
Elias obeyed.
The chair faced the desk, but Damien didn't move behind it. Instead, he leaned against the edge, close enough that Elias felt the shift in the air.
"This is not submission," Damien said calmly. "Not yet. This is awareness."
Elias lifted his chin. "You talk like you're teaching me something."
"I am," Damien replied. "You're learning the difference between control taken and control offered."
Damien reached out not touching Elias, but placing his hand on the desk beside him. The position framed Elias without trapping him. It was intentional.
"You could leave," Damien continued. "Right now. Stand up. Walk out."
Elias didn't.
Damien's eyes darkened slightly. "That," he said, "is choice."
Elias swallowed. "You're manipulating me."
"Yes," Damien said. "And you're letting me."
The words struck deeper than Elias wanted to admit.
Damien straightened and walked slowly around the desk, circling Elias with deliberate precision. Every step felt like pressure, like a test of endurance.
"You've spent your life fighting," Damien said. "Proving yourself. Resisting authority. You wear defiance like armor."
Damien stopped behind him.
"But armor is heavy," he continued. "And you're tired."
Elias closed his eyes. Just for a moment.
Damien noticed.
He leaned closer, voice low. "Tell me to stop."
Elias's fingers curled against the armrest. His heart pounded.
"…No," he said.
Damien smiled.
The smile wasn't cruel. It was satisfied.
"That," Damien said softly, "is the first honest thing you've given me."
Damien stepped back, giving Elias space that suddenly felt wrong.
"Stand," he said.
Elias rose.
Damien approached him again, this time face-to-face. He didn't touch. He didn't need to. The tension between them was almost unbearable.
"Look at me," Damien said.
Elias did.
"Good," Damien murmured. "You're learning."
"What happens next?" Elias asked quietly.
Damien considered him. "Next, you test yourself."
"How?"
"By obeying something small."
Elias's breath caught. "You said you wouldn't force me."
"I won't," Damien agreed. "You'll choose."
Damien stepped aside, gesturing toward the window.
"Go stand there," he said.
It was simple. Harmless.
Elias hesitated then moved.
The city stretched beneath him, glowing and distant. He felt exposed, his back to Damien, his body aware in a way that made his pulse race.
"Don't turn around," Damien said.
Elias didn't.
He felt Damien approach. Close. Too close.
"Feel that?" Damien asked softly. "The way your body listens even when I haven't touched you."
Elias nodded once.
"Good," Damien murmured. "That awareness that's obedience beginning."
Damien stopped just behind him, close enough that Elias felt warmth, felt presence, felt claimed without contact.
"Stay," Damien said.
Time stretched.
Elias stood there, breathing slowly, heart racing, every nerve alive. He realized something then he wasn't afraid.
He was calm.
Centered.
When Damien finally stepped away, the absence was almost painful.
"You may turn around now," Damien said.
Elias did.
Damien studied him intently. "You did well."
The praise hit harder than any command.
"I didn't do much," Elias said.
Damien stepped closer, gaze intent. "You did exactly what I asked."
Silence settled between them, thick and intimate.
"This doesn't mean I belong to you," Elias said.
"No," Damien agreed. "It means you're learning how."
Damien moved past him, opening the door.
"You're dismissed," he said. "For tonight."
Elias paused, hand on the doorframe.
"Damien," he said.
Damien turned.
Elias hesitated then asked the question that had been burning in his chest.
"When I finally ask… what will you do?"
Damien's gaze darkened, a slow, dangerous promise flickering behind his eyes.
"I will take responsibility," he said. "For everything you give me."
Elias left before he could say anything else.
That night, for the first time, he slept.
And for the first time, the dreams weren't about resisting.
They were about choosing.