Holy stared at himself in the mirror. He was perfectly flat, still wearing the binder from surgery, with the drains attached. Slowly, he turned this way and that, taking in the flatness that he could never achieve with a binder, and his heart stuttered in his chest. It was hard to believe this was him. That the rest of his life would look like this. Flat. He wouldn’t have to worry about breaking his ribs anymore, unless a dungeon got particularly nasty. His collarbones would no longer ache, and it would no longer hurt between his shoulder blades. He was… good to go.

He stared at the phone on the counter. The screen was black, and it hadn’t vibrated in a hot second. He had gotten a lot of requests for interviews through his business email. It had been completely overwhelmed, actually, and he didn’t think he was going to do an interview. It felt like a bad idea. He wasn’t good on camera, and he didn’t think he would be able to confidently deliver answers. He was forced to lie about the situation, and he just…

No. An interview was a bad idea. He wasn’t going to do that.

He flexed his hand and then he picked up his phone. With the press of a few numbers, he unlocked it and studied it in silence. He was one day out of top surgery, and he had extra money for a few weeks and rent for the upcoming month, but…

He scrolled through his contacts and hesitated over the name there. Luc Acerbi. He almost didn’t want to, but he needed to join a guild. He couldn’t be on his own. He needed the protection, and he didn’t know how to run a guild, nor did he have the funds to set one up on his own. He didn’t even have the funds to pay for D-rank gates. He tended to just hop on parties where the reservation was already paid for.

He studied the name for a long, long moment before he hit the call button and put it on speaker. It rang once, twice, three times, before the person on the other end picked up.

“Luc speaking,” Luc said, and Holy swallowed.

“H… hi,” he stammered. “It’s Holy.”

“Oh?” Luc asked, a lilt in his voice. “Have you made your decision?”

“I’d… like to move to Boston, please,” Holy said, and there was the sound of someone moving in an office chair.

“And?” Luc prompted, forcing Holy to say it.

“I’d like to join Morningstar Guild,” Holy said, and there was silence on the other end.

“You won’t regret it?” Luc asked, and Holy swallowed.

“Only if you make me,” he said, and Luc let out a huff of laughter.

“Alright, then. You can join my guild,” he said, and Holy leaned against the counter.

“You… you said housing is included?” he asked, and Luc hummed.

“All members of Team A live on site,” he said, and Holy blinked.

“I’m going to be on Team A?” he asked, and Luc let out a laugh.

“You are, yes,” he replied, and Holy opened his mouth and shut it. That was… Luc’s team. He was going to be training with Luc, then. And living with him. That was… scary, actually? That was very scary.

“Oh,” he said softly, and there was the sound of Luc standing.

“When do your drains come out?” he asked, and Holy hesitated.

“Well, when I’m at thirty milliliters of liquid a day, so maybe a week? Four days, probably?”

“I’ll be flying out with Killian in four days, then,” Luc said, and Holy flushed. “And I’ll hire the movers for you. You won’t have to do anything.”

“Oh… Okay,” Holy murmured, and there was the sound of a door opening and shutting in the background.

“Send me your address,” Luc ordered. “We’ll get you moved in sometime next week.”

“Alright, then,” Holy said, and wondered if he was making a mistake here. “I’ll be ready.”

“Don’t sleep on your drains,” Luc added. “They’ll bruise.”

“I know,” Holy said, because he had seen TikToks of the insane bruising that happened when you slept on your drains. “I have the pillow and everything.”

He had a mastectomy pillow, which kept his arms off of his body. And shower wipes, which he was about to use to get cleaned up. It was nearly time for bed, and he was utterly exhausted. Healing from major surgery took a lot out of you, even if you were a hunter. He hadn’t had such a major surgery since he was 15 and his appendix burst. He was tired, and he needed to go to bed.

“I’ll see you in a week, then,” Luc said, and Holy swallowed. Right. This was happening. Okay, then. He was moving to Boston.

“I don’t have any winter clothes,” Holy muttered, and there was a pause on the other end.

“We’ll get you something,” Luc said, and Holy blinked. “Go to bed. It’s late.”

“Okay,” Holy said, and then paused. “Thanks for taking my call.”

“Mhm,” Luc hummed, and Holy abruptly hung up the phone, too embarrassed to say ‘buh-bye’. With a sigh, he leaned on the counter and stared up at the ceiling before he opened up Telegram to message Kara.

Holy: I told Luc yes. I’m moving to Boston next week.

Kara: How are you gonna move when you’re still healing??

Holy: He’s bringing Killian Dross to heal me.

Kara: ??? How are you going to afford that?

Holy: I’m officially on the team, so I don’t need to pay for healing.

Kara: Oh.

Kara: So, that’s it? Just up and moving to Boston?

Holy: Yeah.

Holy looked around the apartment that he had made his home over the past two years. He didn’t have to check in with his parents, didn’t have to run anything by them. He had been homeless for the first three months of hunting before he managed to get housing, and he… Felt a little melancholy, if he was being honest. There had been so many milestones reached in this apartment. His first dose of T, countless hookups, his first injuries as a D-ranked hunter, the way his streaming career exploded. He had laughed and cried and lived in this apartment, and he…

He was going to miss it.

His heart felt heavy. He wouldn’t have to pay for housing anymore. Wouldn’t even have to worry about food. But… His eyes casted over the things in the bathroom, the things he had chosen for himself. He had earned this place with blood, sweat, and tears. He had earned it, and now he was letting it go.

His eyes fell back on his flat chest, and his gut wrenched. At least he had gotten his top surgery here, too.

What milestones would he reach in Boston? He had never even traveled to Boston before. He knew nothing about the city except the Boston Tea Party. Though, with the amount of dungeons Luc’s A team cleared, he doubted that he would have much time to experience the city. He would mostly just be going from point A to point B and barely managing his streaming career on top of it.

Wait, would he be allowed to record in the dungeons? That was the bulk of his income---

Wait.

He didn’t have to worry about making rent anymore. Feeding himself. Clothing himself. His eyes fell on the beat up, ratty Converse next to the front door, and he swallowed. This was…

He hoped his life changed for the better.

….

Luc sat on his bed and studied his phone. He had Holy’s number now. It was kind of amusing to him that he had called the day he got his top surgery done. He had wasted no time in getting things set up. He had moved swiftly, and the decision had probably been made weeks ago. He just waited just for the sake of waiting.

A smile twitched at Luc’s lips, and he locked his phone and plugged it in to charge before he started to strip. He didn’t like working with S-ranks, so how much more trouble would a SSS-rank be? Luc would have to train him relentlessly.

Luc’s fingers drew over his scars on his chest, and then he crawled into bed, dressed in nothing but boxer briefs. He would have to book the flight, and he needed to text Killian that they were leaving for Phoenix in a week. He unlocked his phone and shot off the text, and then his eyes fell on the closet.

Holy would look good in red rope, he thought to himself. It would be an exercise in restraint to keep his hands off of him. He wasn’t going to fuck him, but damn, if he wasn’t thinking about it. He hadn’t had a sub in a while, and Holy was perfectly submissive in a way that was intoxicating. His nervous energy…

Luc couldn’t deny that he wanted to wreck him. He did, in fact, want to wreck him. But, he would keep his hands to himself. Of course, he would use subtle BDSM methods to keep Holy in line. He could see all over him that he had a praise kink, and he would be ruthlessly exploiting that to keep him well behaved. But, he wouldn’t fuck him. Getting involved with him would be a disaster. Especially if they broke up, and were still contractually bound to deal with each other until Holy left.

No, Luc would keep his hands to himself, as much as he itched to pin Holy down to the bed and eat him out until he cried. Even so… He would still tease him. He looked fun to tease.

Thoughts swirling, he glanced again to the closet in the corner. There was a grinder in there he’d love to see Holy rocking on, to test out if he could take a sybian, but…

Ever since he was young, he wanted to defile the holy. There was something about Holy that begged to be dominated, begged to be defiled, and he wanted to do it. Maybe it was in the name. He loved that name. Holy. He couldn’t help but wonder what made him choose to name himself that. What strange thought process prompted choosing a name like Holy. He wanted to ask, wanted to dissect, wanted to know.

There was something divine about the trans form. Luc had always been t4t, and while it started because cis men did not want to be dominated by trans men, and cis women were typically not the allies they professed to be, it had evolved from there. Luc had always wanted to to take that holy, divine form, the closest humans could get to godhood, and dominate it, sully it, press it into the ground and watch it struggle against his grip in the mud.

There was also the fact that Holy was simply more powerful than him. He was, in fact, more powerful than him, and Luc would love to see him struggle against him, but ultimately give in. The rush of commanding someone who could eviscerate him in a second--- Now, that was something he wanted to see, wanted to experience for himself.

And that was part of the reason he was definitely not going to have sex with Holy.

He thought it might be too addictive, too dangerous. He had always struggled with his possessive tendencies, and the thought of Holy submitting to him and then walking away… He might actually lose his mind, and he could not afford to lose his mind. He didn’t want to fall into the trap of considering Holy his. He was, after all, barely 21. He likely wouldn’t consider Luc the love of his life at the age of 21. There was a whole other world out there waiting to be explored, and Luc would only limit him. He wouldn’t set him free. He’d chain him down, pretty as a bird and in an equally pretty cage.

But… Gods. The thought of Holy choosing to stay in that pretty cage.

No.

No.

He simply couldn’t.

He wouldn’t do that.

He would simply maintain his distance, but…

The closet was still calling to him.