Sekka shifted his bag to his other shoulder as he stared at the timetable, not making much sense of it. After a few minutes, he gave up and joined the ticket queue, toying with the address card absently, the crisp white rectangle slowly becoming dog-eared and creased as he waited.

When he reached the front of the queue, Sekka named his destination, and the tired-looking girl behind the desk gave him a list of departure times. Fortunately, there was a bus leaving within the hour that would take him close enough to where he wanted to go. And the price was within his range, as well. He hadn't counted his emergency stash recently, but he was sure he had at least that amount.

He scrabbled in his bag for his cocoa tin, in which he kept his emergency cash, a roll of rumpled notes. He’d vowed never to touch it, not unless it was his very last option. He popped off the plastic lid. The tin was empty.

Oh, Shit! Dale must have discovered his stash. He’d been so rattled when he left, that he'd forgotten to check it. He’d just assumed that since Dale had always claimed that chocolate milk was no fucking substitute for coffee, his asshole of a boyfriend would never have bothered to open it. How could he have been so stupid?

He jammed the tin back into the bag and straightened up. The girl was peering at him expectantly.

He looked down at his toes in embarrassment. "Shit, I must have forgotten to get some money out. Sorry for the hassle." He grabbed the handles of his bag and swung it back onto his shoulder, stepping out of line.

"Wait a moment." A strong hand closed over his shoulder. He stopped, turning to peer at the man who had stood behind him in line. He was tall, broad, dressed in a sportsjacket, as if he’d just been to the gym. The man turned back to the girl, and placed a wad of cash down on the desk. "He’ll have that ticket."

Sekka stared at the man in astonishment, hope suddenly blossoming anew. Was some fairy godfather of a stranger really buying him a ticket? "Hey, man... thanks... but I can’t pay you back for a couple of days, at least."

The man ignored him, gathering up the change, folding it neatly into his wallet and then slipping both the wallet and ticket into his pocket. The other hand, returning to Sekka’s shoulder, guided him away from the line.

"Thanks a heap. I can pay you back, just give me a few days to get where I’m going and make a bit of money. I’ll send it back to you, swear to God." Sekka peered over his shoulder, trying to get a good look at the guy pushing him along.

The man finally let go of his shoulder and turned to face him. Sekka had to look up to meet his gaze.

"Oh... I think we might be able to find some kind of more immediate payment, don’t you?"; The man’s eyes ran down his body to his crotch, lingering there a few moments before returning to his face. The leer was unmistakable.

Sekka stiffened in shock and took a step backwards. What the fuck? Did he have the word ‘WHORE’ tattooed on his forehead or something? Why did everyone assume he was just begging to be screwed up against a wall?

"What?"

The man stepped closer, letting the back of his hand brush Sekka’s thigh. "You know what I want. You give it to me, you get your ticket. If not, I rip it up, and you’re stuck in this dead-end hellhole of a town. What’ll it be, kid?"

Fuck. Although he hadn’t actually made any decisions, there had been the faint idea at the back of his mind that finding the key meant the end to his rent-boy days. But now he was homeless and penniless, and without that bus ticket, the damn key was all but useless. A sick feeling formed in the pit of his stomach. He tried to tell himself it was just one more time, one more jerk, what did it matter, after all the times he’d been taken?

"Sure. Whatever you want." He heard himself say the words as if from a distance. He was somewhat amazed that he sounded so confident, arrogant. "Just make sure you’re finished by the time my bus leaves."

The man laughed a nasty laugh. "Smart choice," he said. He flicked his heavy-lidded gaze to the nearby restrooms and then back.

Sekka just shrugged. Didn't make a hell of a lot of difference to him where he was screwed. "Fine." He took the initiative, one small freedom left to him, and led the way over, feeling the man's bulky presence hovering directly behind him.

He was faintly relieved to find that the bathroom was empty. "Got a name?" Sekka inquired as he walked past the urinals towards the stalls. He didn't particularly care, but silence made him jumpy, and it was the first thing that came to mind.

"Rod. And I don't give a fuck what yours is." Rod pushed him towards the end of the row, the hand on the back of his neck none too gentle. "Move it."

"Yeah, yeah," Sekka muttered, slipping into the confines of the cubicle. Rod followed close behind, closing and snibbing the door behind them. Sekka flattened himself against the side wall, hating being trapped in such close quarters.

"Oh your knees," Rod growled. Well, at least it was obvious what he wanted, Sekka thought, his knees bruising as they hit the tiles. The hand that had shoved him down didn't seem inclined to move from the back of his neck, either, and he had to resist the temptation to try and jerk away from it. In a few moments, Rob's pants were around his ankles, and Sekka was coaxing the man's half-erect penis into full hardness with his tongue. Rod grunted appreciatively at his efforts, leaning back against the opposite wall, eyes half-lidded.

Sekka employed every trick he knew to enhance the effect of his mouth, his tongue. He wanted this over with as soon as possible, wanted to get on with his life, free of the need to have someone's cock shoved down his throat or up his ass. But the hand on his neck tightened as he increased his pace, forcing him to go slower, to draw out the process.

"Enough." Rod grunted after a few minutes of near-silence, save for the occasional wet suckling sound. "I wanna fuck you." The hand moved from his neck to his shoulder, clamping around his upper arm and dragging him to his feet.

"Fine by me." Again, Sekka wondered how he could sound so casual. Years of habit, he supposed, of cultivating a cool, uncaring exterior, even as he kept himself buried deeply within his shell. He stumbled slightly, trying to keep his balance as he was forcibly turned to face the back wall, legs spread and planted on either side of the grimy bowl.

The hand on his neck was back, forcing him to bed at the waist. He reached out to flatten his palms against the chipped tiles in front of him. They were cool under his touch, and smooth, between the cracks.

His jeans were yanked down roughly, and he felt hands on him, spreading him, probing.

"I have lube in my bag," he suggested.

He could feel Rod shaking his head. "I like it better this way."

"Whatever." Despite his uncaring response, he couldn’t help but stiffen in anticipation of the pain. And pain there was, a burning roughness as Rod shoved into him, not pausing to let him adjust, but simply taking what he wanted. Hard, and fast.

Sekka closed his eyes. After the initial tearing, the pain subsided to a tolerable ache. Rod thrust rhythmically, arousing Sekka even against his will. Automatically, one hand went to his own shaft.

Immediately, it was yanked away, a fist closing around his wrist and dragging his arm behind his own back.

"Please yourself on your own time, punk."

Sekka felt his shoulder protest at the angle it was being held. He attempted to pull away, but stopped abruptly as the arm was twisted further. He could feel his shoulder threatening to dislocate. "Fucking hell... shimatta... k'so!" He hissed, held immobile.

"Speak English, Chinaboy!"

"I'm not Chinese--" That was as far as he got before being caught across the side of the head with the man's fist. The blow set his head spinning and his left ear ringing, and if he wasn't still being held tightly by one arm, he might well have fallen.

"Shut up!" Rod slammed into him even harder, taking him with vicious thrusts. "Just keep your mouth shut, you little slut!"

Sekka ground his teeth together and forced himself to remain silent, unwilling to provoke another cuff. Mouthing off had never brought him anything but trouble, but he so often found himself tempted. For now, though, he kept his mouth shut, the room silent but for the rhythmic slap of flesh against flesh, as he was rocked by forceful movements.

Eventually, Rod shoved into him and remained there, and Sekka was aware of hotness being spilt into him. At that particular stage of things, he didn't really care about anything but the fact that it meant that the grip on his arm was loosened, and he managed to drag his wrist from the lax fist, and cradle it against his chest.

His body was abandoned with a quick movement, and it stung, and he was never more glad in his life. Over, done with, finished, thank Christ. There was movement behind him, and he straightened and half-turned, still a little dazed, to watch Rod tuck himself neatly back into his pants, and do up the zipper.

Sekka felt slick wetness begin to trail down the inside of his leg as he stood there, and he hurriedly reached down to drag up his jeans, not bothering to take the time to clean himself up. He had to get out of there. The man's solid presence beside him was stifling, and he thought he'd throw up if he had to remain near him for much longer.

Rod seemed to be in no such hurry to leave the small cubicle, however, and remained blocking the doorway until his clothes had been refastened and neatened. Then he unsnibbed the latch, and sidled out into the bathroom itself. Sekka followed as quickly as he could without actually coming into contact with the man.

"My ticket?" Sekka paused at the bathroom door, holding out his hand, not wanting to risk the jerk just walking off as soon as they were outside. Not that there was a thing he could do about it even if Rod did decide to just push past him without fulfilling his half of the bargain, but it was second nature to act like had some kind of control, even when helpless.

Rod just sneered at Sekka's anxiousness, pulled the folded wad of paper out of his pocket and threw it in Sekka's general direction. Sekka only just managed to catch it, but by that time, Rod was already walking past him, back out into the station.

Sekka stared at the ticket with something like disbelief. It hadn't quite seemed real, until he was actually able to hold the scant weight of it between his fingers. He had the key, and the ticket, and he'd never have to do this again.

Half an hour later, Sekka was sitting next to the window, his bag on the seat beside him, daring anybody to ask him to move it. He stared out the window into the darkness, impatient for the bus to be moving. His head ached and his ear was still ringing faintly, his shoulder felt jarred and his ass still hurt. The really pathetic thing was that he was used to the pain; he'd been taken unprepared, and sometimes against his will, far too often.

Well, it wouldn't happen again, he thought to himself, with steely resolve. Never again. He'd never sell himself to anyone, not for anything. He had the key, held safely in his lap, the key to his freedom. He wouldn't let anyone use him, ever again. From now on, he'd be the one with the power. He'd have control. He'd make other people lick his boots, and be afraid of him.

The engine cranked to life, and the bus pulled slowly out of the depot.

Ice Angel had read his way through a wedge of pages, and was deeply absorbed in the life and reign of Tutankhamen, when he suddenly paused, marking his place on the page with a tapered finger, and turned towards the doorway.

A moment later there was a quick tapping, and the door was cracked open a few inches. A dark, slender figure slipped through.

"Shadow!" Ice Angel broke into a delighted smile. The presence of his young attendant never failed to inspire flickers of warmth inside him. It was the only thing that ever had, in all the time that he'd been here.

"Hey, Ice Angel!" Shadow clicked the door closed behind him and scampered over to snuggle up beside him on the couch.

"What are you doing here so late?" Ice Angel slipped an arm around Shadow's shoulders. "You know it isn't safe to be here."

"Wanted to come see you. Won't get caught. Whatcha reading?"

"A book about a Mummy," Ice Angel turned the book so that Shadow could see the cover. The boy tucked his long, straight hair behind his one ear and peered at it earnestly.

"Ohhhh." Shadow looked briefly impressed, but Ice Angel knew that books could never hold his attention for long.

"Well, what's been happening today?" Ice Angel knew that Shadow was dying to tell him all the news.

Shadow came instantly alive. "Oh, the Turquoise Key is going behind his Master's back! He knows that his Master is insanely jealous, but he crept out anyhow, when his Master was asleep today. And you'll never believe who he went to be with! Dancing Blade! Apparently it's been going on for some time, and none of us ever noticed! It's so neat - a clandestine romance, that's what Sulien called it! But there'll be hell to pay if they're caught at it, that's what Sulien says, and he should know, after what happened with Sapphire, you know, the Key that he used to serve."

Ice Angel watched as the emotions passed over Shadow's face in rapid succession, gaze distant and dreamy at the thought of forbidden romance, then going wide and frightened as he contemplated the consequences, if the Keys were discovered.

Ice Angel loved to listen to Shadow more than anything. The soft patter of his voice was like a balm to Ice Angel's soul. After a while he simply tuned out the words. The people Shadow spoke of were nothing but names to him; only Shadow seemed real and alive, a warm, squirming bundle pressed against his side.

In mid-sentence, Shadow paused, and peered at him with big brown eyes. "Ice Angel, can I stay here tonight?"

It was so tempting to say yes, the thought of snuggling under the blankets curled around the serving boy one of the few things he looked forward to. But some sixth sense was tingling, warning him of something that was going to happen all too soon, and he had learned long ago to trust his instincts.

"I'm sorry, Shadow. I don't think that it's a good idea. I think it's likely that a new Master will arrive this week, since I haven't had one for many days."

Shadow's face fell, and Ice Angel squeezed his shoulder consolingly. "As soon as he's gone, you can sleep in here, how about that?"

Shadow nodded, brightening again. He never remained subdued for long. "Okay! Hey, want me to tell you what the Ivywood Key has been doing?"

Ice Angel nodded, a soft smile on his face. "All right. You tell me what he's been doing, and then you’d better scoot off back to the servant's quarters, hmm?"

Shadow nodded obediently, and launched into his next tale with gusto. Ice Angel savoured the warm, cheerful presence, not hearing a word.