The Submissive Assassin

Chapter 5 - “I own you.”

Nate couldn't stop staring at his palms, wondering what had just happened. One minute, he was pouring shots with Aunt Judy, excited for the day spent drinking and exploring the new town. The next, he was back in his apartment overpowering a man who begged for more, taking pleasure in being subdued. He had never even done that before, not even with his old partners.

The strangest part was that they hadn't even touched one another intimately; Dante had reached his peak by words and hits to his face, then threatening him with a knife caused all his hormones to explode at once. Nate had no idea that could even happen and he had no idea what to do next, not even what to think. Did that make him a bad person?

Although for Dante it had been lustful s****l pleasure, for Nate, it was almost rage from the way Dante had spoken to his aunt. The power Dante gave him, to be able to smack him and menace him without any retaliation, made him feel...better.

And he wanted to do it again.

Nate shook his head, sending his quivering fingers through his curls. He had never been in a situation such as this before and he was frightened to turn into a horrible monster if this continued any further. However, he was not going to throw away his own life nor Aunt Judy's if all he had to do was destroy Dante as s****l pleasure.

His thoughts stopped when he heard the shower turn off. There were a few shuffles heard inside the bathroom before the lights flickered off and the door opened. Nathan stood from the bed, uneasily standing by the door as he waited for Dante to meet his gaze. He was even unconsciously itching the side of his thumb, to which Dante noticed.

Dante had the towel around his shoulders and he was wearing a pair of Nate's sweatpants and plain t-shirts. The shirt was a bit small on him, squeezing every single muscle fibre that Nate couldn't help but study. His sweatpants were not long enough, reaching right above his ankle but it was a look he didn't mind. "Your clothes smell nice," he even said, Nate slowly nodding his head in response.

When Dante finally met the worried blue irises, he snorted and shook his head. "Don't look at me like that." Nate quickly eyed elsewhere, his sight finding space to feel comfortable. "Do you have any food?"

Dante's voice had returned to how it normally was; there was no sweetness or vulnerability, it sounded ruthless and condescending, as if he was superior to anyone who even caught his eye. He tilted his head from side to side, moaning when he heard a little crack and he walked past Nate to leave the bedroom.

"I'm starving. I was supposed to head to a dinner with my grandpa but..." he glanced over his shoulder and then chuckled, eyeing Nate for a second, "I had things to take care of."

Nate did not respond, letting his head nod be the answer and he observed the way Dante's entire right arm flexed as he pulled open the fridge door. He had to lean downwards since he was too tall, his trapezoids pushed out as he kept his grip of one hand onto the top of the fridge door while searching through the products for anything worth to stay a little longer in this apartment.

The first thing he reached for was beer. "At least you got that," he snorted, his eyes still moving from side to side as he studied all the different items. The colours captured his attention, until his sight landed on a plastic container and the moment he saw what was inside, his mouth began to water. "Who made this spaghetti and meatballs; was it you?"

He pulled the container out and eyed the meal, the sauce appearing perfectly creamy and he licked his bottom lip. He leaned in with his nose, a long inhale lifting his chest and he widened his eyes when the scent swirled through his nose and touched every single nerve that made his stomach grumble. "I'm eating this; where are your forks?"

He widened his hands, waiting for a response and realized Nate was not paying attention to him, nor had he responded at all. "Are you going to f*****g answer at all? Jeez..."

Nate shook his head, pulling himself out of his thoughts and he pointed towards one of the cupboards. "They're in there."

"The f**k you thinking about anyway?" he spat nastily, narrowing his eyes with disgust before he reached for the cabinet and pulled a fork.

After a few seconds, Nate shrugged his shoulders. He wasn't really sure what he was thinking nor feelings. All he knew was that he didn't hate what happened, but he felt as if he should. "I said," Dante's tone had shifted, sounded a bit more threatening when he hissed, "what are you thinking about?"

"I'm just..." Nate scratched the side of his neck, frowning as well as he avoided Dante's gaze. "A little confused."

Dante rolled his eyes, mumbling curses under his breath as he shoved the container into the microwave. "Confused he says," he grumbled under his breath, loud enough for Nate to hear. "What the hell are you confused about?"

"Why are you here?" Nate asked bluntly—maybe he was a little dissatisfied at the way Dante had started talking to him, as if he was nothing in his own apartment.

After a few chuckles, Dante pulling the warm container from the microwave, a smirk played on his lips. "Because I want to be."

"That was all you wanted?" Nate's tone caused Dante's face to fall, the narrowed eyes turning into a death glare. "For a man to berate you so that you could cu—?"

"Don't f*****g talk to me like that." That made Nate's breathing halt for a second, even flinching since Dante had taken a step towards him. Dante was much toner than him, and the fact that he was taller didn't make it any better—if they were into a physical fight, Dante would win without any struggle. That was why Nate fell quiet for a moment. He watched as Dante stabbed the spaghetti and rolled it, shaking his head while he did.

"Don't get this confused. I know I'm being chill right now and talking to you as if we're buddies but you don't f*****g know me." Nate raised his eyebrows; Dante was visibly enraged by what he had said. "The only reason I'm not killing you right this second is because you can please me. But if I ever get tired of you," Dante whistled, "you're a ghost in no time."

"Then..." Nate glanced to the side where it had all happened; where Dante had fallen onto the floor and begged for him to tease him with a knife—nothing made any sense and the answers from Dante weren't really helpful. "Then why me? Anyone can do that."

"Because you're not scared of me." Dante paused for a second, chewing his food before he continued, "You told me you'd kill me without knowing who I was. And even after Aunt Judy told you, you still opened the door, told me you'd kill me or that you'd do anything to kill me even after death."

Nate's eyes had widened.

"I don't find that very often. Or when I do, they're either not good or they're boring," he shrugged his shoulders. "They're touches don't make me feel...that thing in me..." He fell quiet, his mind running with old memories of people he had attempted to have this relation with, who had all failed him.

Then, his eyes lifted to Nate, his mind replaying what had happened a little while ago; everything about Nate had been mesmerizing, even his mere voice was enough to cause his entire body to throb and he was uncertain as to why. "You intrigue me, Mr. Kennedy," his tone had been husky, lingering for moment as Nate noticed his eyes divert from their connected gaze and glance at his lips before returning his attention to his meal.

Nate stayed quiet, staring at Dante fully indulged into the spaghetti as he moaned in approval. The entire time that Dante had been there, at that moment, that was when Nate recognized that Dante was quite an attractive man. He had such a threatening but handsome visage, the sharpness of each of his bones appearing to have been handcrafted to perfection. His long hair suited him as well, and the messy appearance was one Nate did find desirable.

But it didn't matter how hot he was since every time he thought about what happened with his aunt, he felt a boiling anger begin to rise in his stomach.

"What's going to happen now?" Nate asked, Dante closing the now empty container and shoving it towards Nate at the other end of the counter.

Dante finished his last bite, throwing the fork into the sink. He poured a few droplets of soap onto his palms and turned on the sink. Nate couldn't stop himself from watched the way his triceps and forearm flexed while he scrubbed and rinsed his hands.

"I own you."

Nate furrowed his brows. "You own me?"

Dante nodded his head, wiping his hands onto his pants. "You follow my orders, you're on my time. If not, then you and your aunt dies." He paused for a second, waiting for the confused contortion on Nate's face to vanish but it didn't. "You help..." his face twitched for a second as he searched for the right word, "...relieve me...and I protect you, that's all." At first, Nate still seemed bemused, glancing towards the marbled counter and keeping a serious stare. But then, he snorted and placed a palm over his mouth to hide his smirk.

That did not amuse Dante who spat, "What's so funny?"

Nate couldn't resist the few chuckles that escaped before he mocked, "Help relieve you." When Dante rolled his eyes and began walking towards the exit, Nate added, "You could've just said help make you c—"

"Oh you got jokes now, huh?"

"I'm sorry," he whispered quickly when he saw Dante's shoulders broadening menacingly.

Dante's glare sharpened for a second before he turned his attention towards the door. "You're annoying me already. Anyhow, I'll be back sometime soon. If you're not home, I'll find you."

Before Dante could leave, he pulled open the door but halted in his steps, turning back to face Nate. "By the way," his eyes narrowed, "you probably know this but you can't tell anyone about this. Not your aunt, not random people on the streets, not your friends, don't even write it in your diary. No one can know."

Nate raised an eyebrow. "What do I tell my aunt when she asks how I'm still alive?"

"Your a smart guy," Dante rolled his eyes, "figure that s**t out."