We Sexualize Zander Here

He’d been writing in that journal every day since Warren gave it to him. He found immense comfort in continuing the routine he’d kept at home, writing a little about his day, his thoughts, making notes of positive things that happened to him. He used to make a list every day, marking down every single positive thing he could think of, everything that might remind him life was worth living, and as his mental health improved he started listing only one thing for each day. He no longer felt like he was clinging to a lifeline made up of tiny positive moments, but he still wanted to keep track of the notable ones.

-Monday, Warren brought me dessert. Blueberry cheesecake. Still unsure whether he makes these himself or buys them.

-Tuesday, I made 26 paper stars in total. Will need to ask Warren for a jar to store them.

-Wednesday, Warren brought me thicker blankets to deal with the cold. One of them has a beautiful floral pattern.

-Thursday, we watched a movie with dinner, The Last Unicorn. My favorite.

-Friday, Warren let me sleep in. I don’t mind skipping breakfast if it means I get to sleep alone once he’s left me.

He still had bruises from the night before, the usual around his wrists from struggling, on his hips, but this time around his neck as well. Warren didn’t usually strangle him, but he seemed to want to try something different last night- with no warning to Aster, of course. He’d hated it, in fact he’d already told Warren once that he did not like it during sex, but Aster suspected that’s exactly why he did it.

I’ve been alone all day today. It’s been nice, relaxing really. I’ve watched every movie I own ten times now. I think I’ll need to ask Warren for more soon, but I need a break first. He always wants something in return and last night was too rough for me.

He looked up as he heard footsteps above him, Warren must’ve gotten home. Aster didn’t look forward to his arrival, but he knew it was inevitable. He didn’t find it as fear inducing as he once did, these days it was more like disappointment. He knew what to expect, Warren would probably bring him dinner, he’d sit and talk with him, sometimes he’d even stay and watch a movie with him. After that, more often than not, he would expect more. Aster considered himself lucky if he only had to put up with being fondled all evening. Any peace he’d found in the last several hours would be ruined, Warren always made sure of that.

With the weather getting colder, I keep thinking about the holidays. I don’t think we’ve gotten to Christmas quite yet, but we will. I keep thinking about my family, I didn’t think that last Christmas would be the last that I got to spend with them. It makes me feel guilty, as if any of this is my fault, but I just can’t stand the idea that they may be suffering during the holiday season because of me. I wish I could tell them I was okay… well, I’m not okay. But I am alive, and I think that would ease their nerves somewhat. I would tell them that I’m okay anyway. There’s no point in making them worry even more.

He continued writing, even as he heard the door finally being unlocked. There were three locks in total, he still wasn’t sure if they were meant to keep him in or to keep anybody else besides Warren out. He stayed focused on his journal, he wanted to at least finish up today’s entry before having to deal with Warren. He never felt he could rest until he’d gotten his thoughts, his feelings down into words. The door opened, and Warren shut it behind himself as he walked in.

“Aster, darling.” He said, but Aster stayed focused on his journal, hastily trying to write down the last of his thoughts. “Aster,” He said again, but he still didn’t look up, he was almost done- and then the journal was suddenly ripped from his hands, his pen leaving a line of ink down the page.

“Hey!” He cried, looking up at Warren. “I was almost done with that!”

“You were being rude.” Warren said simply, closing the book. “I haven’t seen you since this morning, surely it would not kill you to put your pen down for a second.”

“Well surely it wouldn’t fucking kill you to give me a few more minutes!” He got on his knees on the couch, trying to take it back from him, but Warren held it out of reach. “It’s not like I’m fucking going anywhere!” He growled, and Warren took the pen from him as well.

“Stop swearing so much, it’s unflattering.” He told him, which only made Aster angrier.

“Oh I’m so fucking sorry.” He said sarcastically, rolling his eyes. “I forgot my one purpose in life is to make myself appealing to you.”

“You have a lot of attitude tonight.” Warren said. “I’m sorry for coming back so late, I told you-“

“Yes, I know. I just don’t care.” He said bluntly. “Can I just have the damn journal back now?” He asked, reaching for it again, but Warren took a step back. He looked at the journal briefly, before giving Aster that look he dreaded, that hint of a smile that told him Warren was going to ruin his night.

“No.” He said, and Aster’s heart sunk. “I think it’s too much of a distraction. You could use some time apart from it.”

“What- a distraction?! Of course it’s a fucking distraction, you’d want a distraction too if you were locked in a basement all damn day!”

“What did I just say about swearing?” Warren asked him, and Aster groaned in frustration, he made one last effort to snatch it back but Warren pushed him backwards so he fell back onto the couch. “I understand that you must be restless, but if having it taken away makes you this much of a brat, then clearly you’re too dependent on it,” He said, taking the pen Aster was still holding as well, “You can have it back when I decide.”

“Warren- you can’t do this.” He insisted, sitting up and looking at him pleadingly, hoping if he just bat his eyelashes enough Warren would give in. “It’s not like I have much else to do down here, I sure as hell don’t have anyone else to talk to-“

“You have me.” Warren reminded him. “It would be nice to hear your thoughts when I come home, rather than you trying to keep them to yourself in this book.”

“But that’s-“

“Aster,” Warren said sternly, like he was talking to a whining child, “I’ve already made up my mind.” He told him. Aster hated it, but his eyes welled up with tears, he felt like he was having something as fundamentally necessary as food or water taken from him. Warren crossed the basement, over to his bed and nightstand, and Aster scrambled off the couch to follow after him, his chain dragging on the cement floor.

“Warren, please, I- I’m sorry, I’m really sorry.” He said, hoping that if he begged nicely enough the man might take pity on him. “I promise, I-I won’t ignore you again, I swear it, I’ll be good!” He insisted, but Warren was unmoved, opening the drawer to his nightstand and taking the other notebook he had as well.

“You will be good, once you’ve learned your lesson.” He told him, giving him a cold look before he turned and started walking away, leaving Aster standing there, desperately wracking his brain for any way he could think to convince him. “Honestly darling, you need to learn to accept the consequences of your actions, you’ve been acting incredibly immature.” He said, a few steps away from him. For some reason, that word, immature, flipped a switch for Aster. His fear and dread quickly turned to rage, his chest hurt as his heart hammered away.

“Are you serious- of course I’m fucking immature!” He yelled at him, snatching the nearest stuffed animal off his bed and throwing it at Warren’s back. Warren tried to ignore it, which only made Aster angrier. “Maybe you shouldn’t kidnap a fucking twenty year old if you wanted somebody more fucking mature,” His voice raised even more, he was practically screaming at him, begging for a reaction as he threw a pillow at the back of his head, “But you like this, don’t you? You get off to this childish bullshit? I know you like ‘em young, just admit it you fucking freak!” He finally got Warren’s attention with that, he dropped the books right there on the floor and whipped around, storming over to him.

Usually this would’ve terrified Aster, but he was too angry to even care, trying to throw more things off his bed at him before Warren reached him. Aster had reached across his bed, grabbing a throw pillow to hit him with next, but as he stood up Warren swung his fist, punching him so hard he fell back into the nightstand, knocking the lamp to the floor. The glass flower shaped lampshade shattered on impact, but neither of them even registered the noise. He dropped to the floor, disoriented, he tried to brace his hand on the bed frame so he could get up but Warren grabbed a fistful of his hair, hauling him up so he could force him onto the bed. He climbed on top of him, straddling his legs so Aster couldn’t kick him away.

“Get off of me!” He screamed, somehow still angry after that hit. He was hardly thinking anymore, consumed entirely by the rage he felt. “Get the fuck off me! I fucking hate you!”

“Enough, Aster!” Warren yelled at him, he slapped him across the face, again when he continued to struggle, and finally he drew back and punched him again, the sickening sound of his nose breaking under his fist drowned out by Aster wailing in pain. He finally went limp beneath him, sobbing and gasping as he gagged on the blood running down his throat.

“Ha-hate you, I fuck-fucking hate you.” He sobbed, his chest heaving as he struggled to breathe. Warren roughly grabbed him by the face, leaning down so Aster was forced to look him in the eyes.

“You need to stop being such an ungrateful fucking bitch.” He snarled. “Remember- everything you own is because of me. I’ve given you everything, and I can take it away. I thought you would’ve learned this lesson after the kennel. Is that what you want- do you want me to put you back in the kennel?” He asked, it was more a threat than a question, and when Aster was crying too hard to reply, he dug his nails into his jaw. “Answer me.”

“N-No!” He cried. “No- no I don’t- I don’t want that, I’ll be good I- I swear, I don’t want to go back there!”

“Then stop acting like you do.” He growled at him. “You’re a smart boy, I know you know better than this. You know that too, don’t you?” He said, and Aster nodded frantically.

“I-I do- I know better, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’ll behave!” He insisted. Warren was still holding him tightly, studying his face with that cruel look in his eyes.

“I’ll believe you when I see it.” He finally said, and he got off of him, leaving Aster to curl up on his side, still crying his heart out as he listened to Warren’s footsteps retreat, only pausing once to snatch the journal and notebook off the floor on his way out.

***

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