(I would love to write this properly, but I wrote a tiny fill instead, sorry!)

It’s nothing, he tells himself. A simple exchange of favours. They both get something they want and it wasn’t so bad, just a quick hand-job. He can deal with that once in awhile, a small price to pay. He washes his hands over and over, doesn’t realise they’re bleeding.

It’s nothing, he tells himself. His patron had landed him an excellent promotion, it was only fair to do something for him in return. Sucking him off hadn’t been that bad, he can make himself do it occasionally. He’ll get used to the taste, to feeling like he’s choking. He throws up again, leans his forehead on the toilet seat.

It’s nothing, he tells himself. The new command he had received was worth it and his patron deserved compensation for getting it for him. Being held down and fucked wasn’t too bad, he can take it sometimes, it’ll stop hurting eventually. He doesn’t want to think about how much he screamed, how much blood there was. He curls up in the bottom of his shower and starts to cry.