A New Beginning [M/M 18+, Oneshot]

A New Beginning [Oneshot]

But the slim, tall figure passed without hesitation, robed in the flowing green garments of the High Justice. Jewels gleamed on his fingers from his rings of office, and over his shoulder, Eryk carried a leather bag. The unlatched flap seemed designed to tempt a thief's quick fingers.

Cris clenched his fists and breathed, willing the fluttering in his belly to quiet. Act now, emotions later. He let Eryk get a few more steps away from him, so he'd have space to make an entrance. His heart began to thud, but this was nothing new. He ran toward the man, making each step loud and heavy as his boots pounded dust into the road. The High Justice turned, a look of mild alarm on his refined features.

Cris lowered his head, cleared his throat, and prepared to growl give me the bag in his best thuggish tones. Eryk raised his slender hand, the tip of his index finger glowing.

And Cris could not talk or move his head, frozen in mid-stride like a statue. Very creative. But why the flashy magic? Eryk usually didn't--

"Who is it, High Justice?" a young woman's solemn voice asked.

Ah, that's why. Cris could move his eyes, and he tracked a tall woman coming into his field of view. Her tightly-braided hair fell over her uniformed shoulder, and while her face was mostly in shadow, he didn't need to see it. He knew that she wore that concerned, righteous expression that all of them did. Especially the new ones.

He wanted to sigh, but couldn't, trapped by Eryk's holding spell. It was bad luck that an Enforcer had seen them, but it happened often enough for the High Justice not to lose his composure. Which Eryk will I see tonight?

The High Justice's kind, grave voice came from Cris's left as the robed man crossed behind him. "We've seen this one before, haven't we, Raquel?" He put a light hand on Cris's arm as he circled the entrapped man.

"I believe we have, Sir," the female Enforcer said.

She wore her uniform well, Cris had to admit. He could not imagine her giving into softness over the years.

Eryk stood face-to-face with Cris, only inches away. The High Justice peered at his face, as though he were looking for a cattle brand. "Let's see." With unhurried fingers, Eryk unbuckled Cris's plated leather coat, and then slipped the first button of his overshirt out of its hole. And then, another.

What do you think you are doing? This elaborate scene was not necessary. Eryk was giving this Enforcer time to get a good look at him, and observation was the last thing they needed. It was a good thing Cris couldn't make any sound. Just arrest me and be done.

But Eryk showed no reaction to Cris's distress. The High Justice reached into his bag and withdrew a tiny silver knife. Its hilt glinted with clear green stones as the High Justice brought it to the edge of Cris's undershirt and slowly cut into it, exposing the flesh beneath.

Cris closed his eyes. It had been a few weeks, longer than they were used to, and this close, Cris just knew he would have given them away somehow. He could not feel the brush of Eryk's fingers over his skin, but he knew what Eryk touched: two shining, straight scars on Cris's shoulder, each the length of Eryk's finger.

"We have a thief," the High Justice said. "He has two strikes upon him."

Strikes that you put there. The pain had been surprisingly brief; then again, Cris had endured far worse in his life. Even pain from the High Justice is a blessing.

"You must bring him in, Sir," Raquel said.

She sounds eager. It must have been a slow week.