switched by Desconhecido(a)

Coby’d almost forgotten about that.
    He sighed. “I hope so. I want my own self back.”
    Gus nodded, eyes sad, face tender as the stroking at his ear continued. “I do not wish to war with you, Jacob. We have the same goal.”
    “Gus? I have been fucked. I have your seed inside me. I have been plugged. Before tonight I had never...” He sighed, stepped away. “I need to shower and sleep. Tomorrow we have to figure out what to do. Where is Sebastian’s bed?”
    Gus’ hand slid over his cheek. “Bastian and I sleep together, Jacob. And I would never abandon him after a scene. I won’t abandon you either; I will hold you through the night. Never? You should have said so, I would have been more gentle, though Bastian’s body knew my touch well enough.”
    That same betraying body leaned into the touch, and Jacob had to force himself to stop.
    “Come to bed, Jacob. Let us find solace in sleep.”
    He nodded, sighed. “My poor Walt.”
    All alone.
    With Sebastian.
    “Yes. My poor Bastian, as well. At least they have each other. As do we.”
    Gus took his hand and led him down the hall to a room with an enormous bed. The covers were pulled back, bed unmade.
    “My bed is smaller. Walt likes to snuggle...”
    “I usually curl around Bastian. The size is merely to accommodate both my girth and our tendency to... roll about when we aren’t sleeping.”
    Jacob nodded, moving slowly, feeling suddenly fragile, frightened. Gus put him in the bed and turned off the lights, climbing in and wrapping around him before pulling up the covers. It was oddly comforting, having Gus’ weight and heat around him.
    He sighed, closed his eyes, then opened them. “The plug...”
    “Leave it in until morning.” Gus kissed the back of his neck, hand heavy on his hip.
    “I...” He sighed, relaxed into the mattress, mind on his Walt, on his lover.
    Gus’ hand petted him, the touch reassuring. “Sleep.”
    He nodded, heart pounding, everything slowing.

Chapter Six
    T’ven
    Bastian cried until he felt empty, then he showered, washing Jacob’s body carefully. He didn’t know what to do.
    He didn’t know this man Jacob lived with.
    He didn’t know Jacob’s job.
    He didn’t know anything.
    Exhaustion finally drove him out of the bathroom and back into Jacob’s flat.
    The scent of bleach hit him right away, and he found Walt on his hands and knees in the kitchen, scrubbing the cleanest tiles he’d ever seen, hands red and raw, muttering to himself.
    “I. Uh. Hello? Do... Do you need help?”
    Walt jumped, nearly knocking over his bucket. “Oh! Hi. I... No.” Walt shook his head, eyes red-rimmed. “No, I clean. It’s what I do. I keep the place clean for my Master. Um. Coby.”
    “I know how to clean. Do you work? I mean, outside?” He bent down, took a sponge and started helping.
    Walt eeped. “You need to wash your hands first!”
    The sponge was taken from him, Walt putting it into the disposal and getting rid of it.
    “There’s enough bleach in here to kill anything and I just got out of the shower.”
    Jacob’s lover was insane.
    Walt shook his head and lined up the clean sponges on the counter. “You wash your hands and then you pick up the sponge. That’s the way it works. Wash. Pick up. Scrub. It’s simple really. If you can’t do it right, I don’t need your help. I don’t need your help anyway, you know. I take care of Coby, I clean.”
    “Okay.” He backed away, hands up. “Is there a guest room where I can sleep tonight?”
    Walt nodded. “We have a guest room, yes. We’ve never had a guest before, though.”
    Walt started rubbing the nails of one hand along the back of his other hand, as if scrubbing. “But it’s there. At the end of the hall. Behind our room. Coby’s and mine. I don’t like sleeping alone.” Walt’s eyes filled with tears and he blinked hard.
    “Me either. You’re hurting yourself.”
    “What?” Walt looked at him, frowning.
    “Your hand. You’re hurting yourself.