Only the silence

“There do seem to be a lack of options as far as quiet spaces” Julien inclined his head in a slight nod. It did seem rather noisy down here, probably due to the fact that the assets were packed in rather like sardines, with four to a room. It hardly seemed like anyone would get any peace and quiet down here, let alone be able to take a nap in the space. Then again there were some that seemed to be able to nap anywhere. 

Riley tried hard not to snort. ‘Lack of options’ was the theme of his life as a whole, so why should he expect it to be any different when it came to the hope for some peace and quiet on his day off? It would be simpler to do away with all expectations of improvement, but he was an idiot that was, secretly hoping for things to get better even when all signs pointed at them getting worse, ot at least staying the same.

From watching Riley he could tell that the man didn’t seem to find anything that would help him get unlocked from these handcuffs. As he listened to the male he kind of had hoped that Riley had been sent to have sex with him. He would be able to make it work with someone he knew better than he could do a stranger. He licked his lips and looked away for a moment.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he said, a response that went against his every instinct. But, strangely enough, Riley felt certain of his choice, even if he knew that the odds were high it would end up in disaster for both himself and Oliver. But he had been playing the quiet observer for a while now, keeping hid distance and trying not to get involved when someone else was in trouble. Usually the guilt he felt over doing nothing was minimal—he couldn’t imagine it would be the same this time, not when the victim of his inaction was someone he actually knew.

“Well then, come on,” Gunner said, smiling and motioning for the asset to stand up. “And as for the sandwich, I’m pretty sure there are leftovers in my fridge that I can offer you,” he said. He paused slightly, thinking. “Well, so long as the twins haven’t eaten all of them.”

Riley gave Gunner a small shrug as he rose to his feet, taking his time at stretching, though not to stall, something he usually did when an associate took a more than passing interest in him—he just really needed the stretch. His whole body felt heavy and awkward, but he wasn’t really that tired, and he didn’t feel even slightly sick. It was just plain lethargy, he figured, the lack of activity holding him back almost as a form of inertia.

The long silence didn’t shake the doctor, he was pretty good at those himself. He just lifted his shoulder in a shrug and kept his face even and expressionless. “While that might be true, you’re finding me in the middle of a serious struggle to care one way or the other. "Just don’t let it be said that I didn’t warn you.”

Riley pushed out another sigh. So that answered that question. At least the guy didn’t look like a psychopath, but appearances could be deceiving. He didn’t expect much in the way of empathy from anybody he met in the tower anyway, so if nothing else, having his thoughts confirmed filled him with an odd sense of safety. “Noted,” he droned and went back to slouching.

“You don’t look not sick,” Gunner said, shrugging. “Mainly, you look like you need a sandwich, a nap, and some time to yourself. Which I’m pretty sure celebrities use as an excuse to go to rehab all the time, so…Technically, yes. You look sick.”

“Yeah well, I’m indifferent to the sandwich, a nap would be okay, and that’s just an everyday thing—I’m not exactly a social butterfly, you see.” Riley bit back a chuckle. “I don’t think I look worse than anyone else in the build, but your concern is noted,” he observed, more as a way to get the subject pushed out of the way than to concede the point.

“Yep. I’m sure they do that for a very specific reason, like, you know, not losing money. They sure do like to wring the life clear out of people here, don’t they?” How little he cared was probably evident in his voice.

Riley’s gaze sat uneasily on the doctor’s expression for a few long seconds. Then he shook his head and sighed. “You know… I know this place isn’t a vacation resort, especially for people in my position, so the grim talk is something I can do without.” His voice a deadpan, his expression was no different. “A simple ‘be there on time’ would be just as effective, really.” He was still afraid of what people might do to him, but Riley was tired of acting like it. He was tired of looking over his shoulder, keeping everyone at arm’s length. He wondered if this guy didn’t get that, or he just didn’t care.

Oliver was not sure if silence was a good thing or not. He wondered if the person just looking at him was going to do something to him or just leave. When he heard the footsteps move closer to him his heart raced, not sure what to expect. The blindfold came off and he blinked a couple of times before looking Riley in the eyes. He smiled softly. “I am okay, a little uncomfortable but okay,” he assured his friend. He looked around the room and sighed. “I don’t know what I am doing here,” he said, licking his lips.

“I can think of a few answers to that…” Riley muttered darkly under his breath as he looked around. The room wasn’t as well-lit as he would have liked, but at the moment that didn’t matter. Mostly he kept his eyes darting from one corner to the next as a way to keep them from wandering over to Oliver’s naked body. It wasn’t that he didn’t find him attractive, or that he wasn’t curious—he did, and he was—but under the current circumstances looking just felt wrong.

Gunner nodded, the corners of his mouth turning down slightly as he took in the asset’s appearance. “Are you feeling okay? Any headaches, nausea, anything like that?” He was tempted to reach out and feel the boy’s forehead, but he knew that it probably wasn’t the best idea to just haul off and feel someone’s face. “Well, even if it’s just laziness, you’re welcome to come watch my TV. So long as you won’t be missing work, or anything like that, obviously,” he added. “Plus, that gives Ramsey time to win you over to the greatness that is the squeaky Yoda.”

Riley couldn’t help but bristle a little, ill-at-ease with the notion that he was being observed so keenly by someone he hardly knew. “I’m not sick… Do I look sick?” It was meant as a protest, but Riley’s voice was close enough to brittle to make him sound more concerned than aggravated. Either way, he just wasn’t comfortable with being fussed over. “I don’t work today,” he offered, then cast his glance on the dog still biting on the chew toy. As tense as he felt, the dog’s—Ramsey’s upbeat demeanor proved disarming. He reached down and scratched behind his ear, smiling a little as the dog shifted his head’s weight onto his hand. “Okay,” he said, looking up at the associate and sighing. “I guess I could use a break from… this…” Riley cast a cursory glance at their vicinity and putting on a thin smile.

Open~

Riley didn’t know what he’d been expecting when he stepped through the door, but this was definitely nothing his mind could have conjured up. At the same time, though, it shouldn’t surprise him that a scene like this would be staged in the tower: a fellow asset stripped naked and stretched out over a table, bound in place and waiting to be… A chill ran up his spine and he had to shake his head, shoving away the thought.

This was all still rather strange. The whole system they’d put in place here seemed to cater to people like him, and yet not. Julien had lived this life, being thought of as a pet, being the docile boy and having sex with whoever would give him the most leverage. It was different here, while the system of slavery the MacNamara had set up seemed to cater to those in that position, being a pet and indulging in another man’s whims, it also prevented the social climbing Julien did. Of course, you could probably still do it, if you gained favor in enough places, but it was certainly a lot harder. 

Riley pushed out a sigh, wondering whether he had expected too much in hoping to be left alone if only for a while. But there was always something or someone that got in the way of him just having some much needed alone time. It was plainly too busy in here, and no, he wasn’t merely referring to the commons. “Well… I guess that’s just my luck,” he muttered, looking up at meeting the man’s gaze. The fact that he had just called him darling hadn’t gone unnoticed. He didn’t like the implications of that word.

“Sorry,” Gunner said, picking Ramsey up from where he was bounding around on the floor. “He got a new toy, he wants to show it off to everyone before he destroys it.” He smiled at the squirming puppy for a moment before shushing him. “I know your squeaky Yoda is exciting, but no one else is interested right now. Pipe down.” He looked down at where Riley was stretched out, considering the boy for a few minutes. He then nodded to the elevator. “If you want someplace to sleep with actual quiet, you’re welcome to use my couch.”

Riley looked down at the dog, jaws clamped down on the chew toy he held up high with all the pride of a quarry. He didn’t have a great deal of experience with pets, but he knew enough to make out the behavior. It almost made him smile. Perhaps if he hadn’t been feeling so low on energy at that moment he would have. He looked up at the associate, pensively staring while weighing his offer. “Uhm… thanks, but I don’t think that’s necessary. I’m not really tired per se. Just… feeling lazy, I guess.”

“I have never understood why some people find silence necessary for relaxation,” came the voice of Dr. Keaton O'Leary. He hadn’t been the cause of the noise, in fact he hadn’t even been in the commons for more than a full thirty seconds, but it was long enough to hear the mostly gentle plea for quiet.

“Yeah, well…” Riley had to think about that for a moment, mostly because his mind wasn’t working full-throttle yet—something about lazy days or whathaveyou. For someone who had spent the better part of his life living in a city—New York, not his native Chicago—one would think he should have grown used to living surrounded by noise, but silence was still what he preferred at the end of the day. Silence, and music. Music wasn’t noise.

Dmitri very seldom had days off, let alone ones he didn’t wind up taking a shift for someone anyway. So instead of hiding away in his room where he could easily be found, he laid on a ledge in the garden, smoking his usual cigarette with a cup of coffee. As he heard slow steps approaching, he looked over with the smallest of smiles. “Come to join me for brunch? I’m afraid I’ve only got nicotine and caffeine to serve.” He joked. “It’s my day off, though. So the day is young and you look like you wanna get out of here. So…” He swung his long legs over, smiling. “Let’s get out of here. What do you say?”

He should’ve known better than to expect he’d have the place to himself, but had woken up feeling stupidly hopeful that morning. At least that nonsense was over with. He eyed the man warily for a long moment and then sauntered to a bench that added a generous amount of distance between himself and the stranger. He sat down, cast his longing gaze across the city’s skyline and sighed. The man was talking to him. He tried not to pay attention to the words; they sounded amiable enough, but he wasn’t so stupid to trust that. He gathered his thoughts, and then, very diplomatically, he said: “I would rather stay here, but thanks for the offer.”