Work Text:
When Benjamin gets summoned to headquarters in the evening, he is nervous. General George Washington has promoted him recently, which leads to them working together closely. While the appointment makes Ben feel honored and proud, he’s also afraid of becoming a disappointment. Washington promoted him because he sees something in the young man and now it’s Ben’s job to meet those expectations.
Ben hurries to Washington’s office, noting that the guards abandon their post as he steps in. He’s going to be alone with His Excellency. It makes him excited. Yet, he remains composed and professional when he stands in front of Washington’s desk. Suppresses the itch in his fingers by clasping them behind his back.
The general looks up from his work and Ben feels pierced. Even a short glance from this man makes you think that he knows everything about you, can read you like an open book, already evaluating its content. Washington’s gaze has always been intense, layered with experience, but the eyes on him now are dark, turning the pages in search for something – for what? Ben almost starts to fidget under its weight.
Washington addresses him: “Glad you came so quickly, Major. Did the guards retire for the night?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Good,” he hums and stands up. Attentively, Ben watches him stride around the table and past him. Washington has his hands folded behind his back. He goes to the door, closes and locks it. The click raises Ben’s hackles. It must be more than classified information.
“You see, Benjamin, there is something troubling me…”
The use of his Christian name adds to Ben’s nervousness, making his breath hitch.
As Washington continues, he approaches Ben from behind with slow but alarming footsteps: “You are the problem, Major,” he places a hand on Ben’s shoulder and leans in to whisper into his ear, “You are far too handsome for your own good.”
Then, the hand on his shoulder wanders to caress Ben's cheek. A foreign weight appears on his hip and he tenses up. The major isn’t stupid. He knows where the older man wants this to go. But he is so shocked that the man in question is General Washington. The man he would risk everything for.
The hands on him get bolder, wander to his neck and crotch. A warm breath tickles his ear.
He gathers his voice in the hope he can appeal to Washington’s conscience. It is not too late. Maybe Washington doesn’t intend to ignore his boundaries. Maybe Washington will stick to his pride and this is a result of a huge misunderstanding.
“This compliment given by you means a lot to me, Sir, but I prefer you’d not express it up so close.” His voice smells of uncertainty and fear.
“I believe my needs are superior to yours.”
Ben’s eyes widen. Desperation grows exponentially when Washington’s hand slides into his breeches and grabs his cock. Ben gasps.
“Sir, I-I think of you as a great, honorable man. There’s no need to change that.”
“I apologize for shattering your beliefs,” Washington responds, “but, tonight, your opinion isn’t my concern.”
“No!" Ben tries to jerk away but the grip around him tightens. He gasps and takes a step back, pressing against Washington. “Sir, let me go! Don't touch me!”
“I am the one giving the orders here.”
Ben grits his teeth. “I won't let you get away with this.”
“Oh, you will,” Washington says with a smoothness that shouldn’t be possible in this situation and it riles Ben up even more, “Let me unfold to you why, though I’m sure a boy as smart as you are has already figured it out.”
Ben almost sobs. He closes his eyes and slumps back. Of course, he’s aware of his own misery. He just refuses to accept it. Despite everything he has experienced in this war, he’s never felt so helpless.
Washington holds him close, an obvious bulge pressing against Ben’s backside, and explains: “No matter what you say, your word means nothing against mine. I am the commander of the entire army, I have money and high standing, I am friends with the most powerful men on this continent. I am one of the most powerful men on this continent. Who do you think they would rather believe? Me or an unknown boy from Setauket who intends to frame me, by this, sabotaging the revolution?”
It hurts Benjamin so much. Everything he believes in, he suffers, fights, and nearly dies for would be turned against him. A shadow on the entire Tallmadge family. Would his father believe him, he wonders, or would he abandon him as a sinner?
“Of course,” Washington muses, “some would use it against me, rumors would float for a while, however, at the end of the day, it is your name which ends up in a bad light, Tallmadge, not mine. Oh, let’s not forget the fact that I can get you executed at any time.”
First, Ben hears the smug smirk in the voice that once accompanied his favorite dreams of glory but will now become the protagonist of his worst nightmares. Then, he feels that wolfish smile pressed to his neck. Washington’s hand on his cock starts to stroke him and what usually would be a soft touch bringing pleasure is now scorching agony.
“Sir, please, cease this. Think about your honor!” Ben tries again, panic seeping into his voice.
Washington sneers: “Honor has no value in a one-on-one. When we leave this office, it’ll still be intact. What happens here stays here.”
Further protest is useless. No words are going to bring him to his senses. The man clearly has no morals.
Before Ben can react, he gets turned around to face his general. One hand entangles in his hair and guides him to meet Washington’s lips. Their mouths clash together and Ben tries his best to escape it but the grip in his hair is painful. Washington is unfazed by the struggle and continues to move his lips and taste the boy.
The other hand grabs Ben’s jaw. With it, Washington forces his mouth open and slips his tongue inside. Ben strains against the hold but the taller man jerks harder in response, making his scalp sting like hell. The foreign body in his mouth nearly makes him retch as it tastes and claims him.
That’s what the kiss is about. Washington demonstrating his power, that he is in control, and that he owns Benjamin from now on. And looking into the future, instead of victory, glory, and freedom, Ben only sees despair.
Eventually, the assault on his lips ends. When he opens his eyes, he wishes he hadn’t. Washington smirks and, in the reflection of his eyes, Ben sees the reason for his delight. Ben’s eyes are red and glassy. The fear in them is undeniable. And Ben is so ashamed while, at the same time, he couldn’t care less about it.
Though, the true horror begins when Washington’s hands press down on his shoulders. The amusement is replaced with sternness. Shaking, Ben sinks to his knees. Of course, he knows what is expected of him.
Washington wastes no time and pulls his cock out. It hangs right in front of Ben’s face whose mouth falls open in shock. Washington’s size and girth are intimidating. When Ben looks up, he’s met with demand.
He looks up to a person he once revered like a miracle – in fact, only a few minutes ago. A statue of a man who’s so legendary that many children will be named after him. Someone who seems to understand the world around him perfectly and knows to use it, wield it with the same skill as his weapon. Ben would have always knelt for that version.
But now he is humiliated by the very same thing he is fighting against. An oppressor and tyrant. He feels something shatter deep inside of him. If even General Washington isn’t real, what can he believe in?
He folds his hands and pleads: “Please, Sir, please, don't make me do this.”
The general only rolls his eyes. “I expected you to last longer.”
But Ben ignores the taunt. He really has other concerns. He doesn’t care about his dignity anymore and doesn’t hold back his tears. “Please, spare me. I won't tell anyone.”
“You won’t tell no matter what I do.”
To accentuate his words, Washington grabs Ben’s head and shoves his cock against those beautiful lips. Ben presses them tightly together though it’s a lost cause. He knows he doesn’t have the power to fight back. It’s inevitable. So, when his eyes meet Washington’s and fail to detect a single doubt, he succumbs, knowing when he has lost.
Only the tip is in his mouth yet and it’s already the most disgusting experience in his life. More slides in and lays heavy on his tongue. Its salty and unpleasant taste makes Ben squint his eyes. Keeping his teeth away becomes a hard task as his body naturally wants to repulse the intruding length. Yet, it fills him out more until it bumps against the back of his throat. His gag reflex sets in and – God bless – Washington lets go.
Ben jerks away and coughs several times. Automatically, his hand shoots to his throat to find that everything is intact. He recovers quickly though the phantom feeling still lingers.
Washington speaks up: “I want you to do it yourself. Show me what you got. It’s not in your interest to disappoint me.” His lips curl into a small smile which grows wider and wider as if unconsciously.
The boy feels like a lamb hunted down by a wolf who isn’t even animalistic enough to end it quickly. Washington plays with him; something he would never do in battle. He’s usually so consequent, reprimands those who aren’t, and Ben can’t comprehend where this monster is hidden.
Nonetheless, he gathers enough strength to situate himself in front of the general’s cock. Just as he intended to take it into his hand and give an experimental lick, Washington already cuts in: “No hands.” Ben swallows hard and lets his arms sink. His hopes for any kind of mercy tonight are fading by the second.
Now, he has to change his strategy, so he swallows as much of the cock as he can without gagging – which is only the half. After a couple of seconds of habituation, he begins to suck and bop his head up and down slowly. This alone is such a difficult task, even without any experience he knows it would be easier if he could support himself on Washington. Instead, he manages a position in which he can plant his hands on the ground for at least some balance.
It’s still uncomfortable, however, he gives his best and increases the pace. The slide becomes easier as he gets the cock all wet with saliva. A big amount dribbles down his chin as he forgets to swallow regularly. He is focused on bringing his general to completion as soon as possible.
Meanwhile, the latter rolls his eyes in growing frustration, patience running low. Although he expected Ben to be inexperienced, it doesn’t make the sloppy, unmethodical work more enjoyable. A hot and wet cave isn’t everything, after all.
“Even for your first time you’re horrible at it,” he grunts, “We won’t get anywhere like this.”
In the next moment, Washington buries both of his hands in Benjamin’s hair and pushes him down onto his cock until the whole thing is buried deep inside. The boy’s eyes look like they’re about to pop out and his face is pressed flush against Washington’s abdomen. Washington feels the throat flutter around him and, yes, this is rather to his liking.
He loosens his grip enough so Ben’s lips stay sealed around his glans, and he gives him time to breathe a few times through his nose before he thrusts back in to the hilt. He establishes a relentless rhythm where he pulls out almost completely only to spear Ben’s throat in a split second. Wet and gross noises fill the room.
The major tries to push Washington away but the veteran is too strong. It’s not even enough to draw his attention. Ben struggles for breath and tries to cough but gets denied both. His throat is on fire, his neck hurts, and just everything is torture. Streams of unrestrained tears redden his eyes and make his long lashes sticky. He didn’t even know a man is able to cry this much. The physical and inner pain brings him to his limits. He doesn’t dare to look up, afraid of what might be waiting for him. All he can do now is to wait for the telltale stutter of hips which shall mark the end of this endeavor.
Washington, on the other hand, gets lost in the feeling for different reasons. Ben’s mouth – and his struggles – feel incredible, he almost feels high. Though, he could be high on power, as well. It doesn’t matter as long as it’s there and feels how it does. He has craved this young man from the second he laid his eyes on him and he plans to indulge in him.
“Such a good boy,” he murmurs, “My golden boy.”
And Ben does his absolute best to ignore it. The last he wants to be is this person’s anything.
When low groans and grunts are audible, Ben closes his eyes in both hope and fear. It won’t be long until Washington comes. Just a little longer. Then, this will be over.
Half a minute later and Washington’s hips come to a final stop, tip pressing hard against the back of Ben’s throat. Ben would sigh in relief if he could. It’s over, it’s over, it’s over, Ben repeats in his head like a mantra to stay calm until he is pulled off and granted unrestricted oxygen. As the hold on him disappears, he collapses onto the floor. His face is a mess and his throat is so sore that heaving in the air is painful, though not as painful as the following coughing fit. “Fuck,” he croaks, curling in on himself.
“Language,” Washington shoots back, regaining Ben’s attention.
When Ben sees that Washington is still hard, it dawns upon him. Now he remembers that the other hasn’t spilled in his mouth. Washington has used his iron control to prolong Ben’s suffering. Horror freezes his blood.
Washington grins at the realization in Ben’s eyes. “You’re right. We’re just getting to the main event.”
No. Ben has endured enough till now. He noticed early that he likes men the same way as women, but he has never done this. Never even considered it because he knows it’s bad. It’s filth and against what God wants. And he won’t do it now.
Just as Washington bends down to pick him up, Benjamin jumps up and gets out of reach thanks to newfound adrenaline. He only manages one step in the direction of the door before Washington catches up and grabs his arm. With his free hand, Ben reaches for the doorknob. His last hopes are crushed when he realizes it’s still locked, with this, sealing his destiny.
One mighty pull is enough to throw him into the taller man’s arms who immediately manhandles him to the desk. Ben kicks and struggles but, despite his age, Washington is so much stronger than him. Maybe it turns out that he is a superhuman after all.
“No, please, God!” Ben cries out when he gets bent over the furniture.
“He won’t help you,” his commander replies casually. Then, he leans over Ben and whispers into his ear: “Now, be obedient and don’t move. We don’t want to make this worse for you than necessary, do we?”
As much as Ben is repulsed by the idea of accepting this fate, he also doesn’t want any more pain. He presses his lips together and convinces himself to nod. Shame and guilt weigh down on him though he knows it’s not his fault. Submitting feels so wrong. But fighting would be stupid.
Washington hums, approving, and steps back. He yanks Ben’s breeches and underwear down, baring his ass to his greedy stare. The humming continues as he runs his palms over the well-formed cheeks. He spreads them experimentally and releases them.
“As perfect as I imagined,” the older man comments and Ben shudders and gets nauseous at the thought of being the protagonist of a rapist’s perverse fantasies.
Pleased with his prize, Washington sinks to his knees and spreads Ben’s legs apart. He grabs and spreads his cheeks again. A hot breath against his skin is the only warning Ben gets before a nose presses into his crack and a wet tongue laps at his entrance. He shudders at the sensation, goosebumps covering his body.
The greedy tongue finds its way into his ass and it’s such a strange sensation he grabs the edge of the desk out of reflex just to occupy his hands somehow. It wiggles inside of him and licks and tastes his walls. It costs all his self-control not to attempt an escape again.
Eventually, Washington is satisfied and stands up. “You taste like a virgin,” he taunts and gives Ben’s backside a playful slap.
Ben takes a deep breath as blood runs into his face. His eyes are fixed on a random spot on the wall to his right despite his vision being blurred by tears of anger.
Washington leans over him, presses himself close to Ben’s back so that they feel each other’s heat through the clothing.
The major has no idea what Washington is doing behind him but the latter warns: “Expect it to sting.”
Afterward, something passes his rim. It glides in slowly. Ben identifies it as a finger. While it goes in knuckle after knuckle, Washington’s breath ghosts over his neck, like a constant threat hanging in the air.
The finger enters to the last knuckle. Soon, Washington starts moving it in and out, producing the promised sting. Ben gasps but remains still. The drag against his insides is biting, though the burn ebbs away with every motion.
Just as he got used to it, a second finger joins, igniting a harsher pain. He groans and tenses up, by this, clenching around the fingers and making it worse. It hurts and he wants them out. As he reflexively shifts away, his body is covered in cold sweat.
With his free hand, Washington grabs him by the hip and holds him still. “Shh,” he coos, “Don’t tense up. It hurts less when you relax. Trust me.”
Trust. Ben snorts with disbelief. Like there is any way that he could trust Washington ever again. As the head of intelligence, Ben knows what trust means. For God’s sake, he even taught Washington. Nevertheless, Washington used his eagerness and loyalty to lure him into his trap. Ben is going to wear this betrayal as a scar on his heart until his very last breath. Though his heart still beats for the revolution, the fact that he as the spymaster got betrayed and is used by someone with a fake face will cast a shadow over his work. And he isn’t sure if he’s grateful or forlorn that this shadow is invisible to others.
At least, Washington ignores the snort – Ben was already prepared for chastisement. Instead, he resumes working the boy open. Ben manages to relax and, indeed, the pain fades. Washington rotates and scissors his fingers which yet makes Ben grimace in discomfort.
Suddenly, he curls his fingers and deliberately presses against a spot that lets Ben see stars. Unwelcome jolts of pleasure ignite his nerves and it’s too sudden to suppress a moan.
Washington, the sadist, grins, showing his canines. He muses sardonically: “Are we having fun?”
“I have fun imagining your decapitation,” Ben spits back, full of spite.
Washington only laughs. “Not broken yet? I’m impressed.”
Ben’s fear spikes and his eyes widen. His heart beats so loud it’s deafening. He is afraid of the implied threat, wrapping around his neck like a noose. Does Washington particularly get off to this? If his intention is to wreck Benjamin to his core, then the worst is yet to come.
His worry comes true because, indeed, Washington wasn’t finished and adds in a dark tone: “We can change that.”
In the next moment, Ben’s ass is empty. The grip on his hips turns painful and Washington steps closer so that something different is poking against Ben’s entrance now.
The major doesn’t need experience to know that that thing will tear him apart and it triggers his instinct for self-preservation. His efforts to straighten up and run end in vain as Washington predicted the escape attempt, catches Ben’s arms, and secures them on his back. The boy thrashes against the hold though, still trapped between Washington’s strong thighs and the sharp edge of the table, he’s clearly at a disadvantage.
Washington hoists Ben’s arms, causing pain, and forces his upper body back flush against the oak desk. Benjamin grunts and grimaces in pain. His shoulders hurt and his lungs are squeezed since the giant uses his weight to pin him down.
Pathetic, both men think about Ben at the same time, whereas Washington’s chest fills with glee and Ben’s with self-loathing. How can he call himself a soldier when he’s so easy to subdue?
The ache in one of his shoulders fades because Washington needs his right hand to guide his cock to Ben’s hole. The muscles there are already squeezing in resistance.
Sobbing and crying but holding onto the last rebellious flame in him, Ben prompts: “Do you do this to others against their will, too? Your aides for example?” He plants his released hand next to his face.
A faint smile playing about his lips, Washington’s voice is deep and smooth when he counter questions: “You’re hoping to find someone you can entrust with this? Someone’s shoulder to cry on and someone to plot something against me that’s doomed to fail spectacularly?”
The young man neither moves nor responds. Out of Washington’s sight, his eyes are trembling. He hates how well the general understands him. Only a psychopath can comprehend a human’s emotions so well without empathizing a bit. He blinks away a fresh film of water.
At Ben’s reaction, Washington knows he’s hit home. A maniacal grin appears on his face but he wills it away. He leans over Benjamin, breathes against his neck like a predator before indulging in the still warm flesh of its prey, and says: “But I must disappoint you. You’re alone, Benjamin. You’re alone.”
Ben clenches his eyes shut.
Then, Washington straightens and pushes in by which he brings back life into Ben. The boy screams in pain and immediately struggles against his captor’s cruel hold, not caring about how he makes it worse, especially for his arm. The internal damage is the worst feeling he’s ever experienced.
Afraid of being discovered, Washington presses his right hand to Benjamin’s mouth, muffling the noises enough to be safe. He sinks deeper into the tight heat, eyes fluttering shut from pleasure, while his victim screams into his palm. By the time he’s fully seated, that hand is moistened from two salty trails.
Now, Ben is sobbing so hard that his whole body shakes violently. His eyeballs forgot what the shade white is, his ass feels like it’s tearing apart, his walls can barely capacitate the intruder. His body tries to squeeze him out – or off, he’s not sure – and it hurts, it hurts so much.
Eventually, Washington starts moving, a sharp snap of hips to begin with. Ben struggles, his free arm flailing around uselessly as he either tries to grab onto something or to push Washington off of him – which their positions don’t allow.
The next thrust hits deep and the agony in that intimate place gets mirrored on his soul. Every memory carved into his mind. It has just begun and he already doubts he’ll ever recover from this night. And he doubts Washington will leave it at one night.
However, Washington won’t let him suffer in silence. “Your arse is so tight I should recommend you to my friends,” the assaulter grunts before adding in a deceivingly soft tone: “Though we know I would never do that, right? I’d become jealous and do terrible things. I can’t share you because you’re mine. My pretty soldier. My precious, golden boy.”
The addressee winces at the statement. Washington openly claims him as his own, like a thing you can write your name on. The worst thing, Washington is right. If not since the moment he made the boy surrender the first time, then since the moment he entered him and connected their bodies by sin, his name is engraved into Ben’s skin, into his body. And the marks on his hips and wrists, like obscene embroidery, the sore throat, and the ache in his ass will remind him of this fact during every waking moment for days.
This day will haunt him to the gates of heaven where the judgment shall fall upon his head. His last hope: that he won’t end up burning with that devil together forever.
Benjamin won’t leave this room as he entered it but as a puppet. A spineless, broken creature that makes a perfect marionette for the general.
He’s exhausted and hoarse. The pain decreases to a point where he can blend it out. His psyche tries to pull him out of the situation to prevent more damage. Slowly, the wall in front of him gets painted with new images. His consciousness drags him deeper, turning the pounding into a numb feeling at the back of his mind until it disappears completely.
At some point – he lost track of time long ago – Ben recognizes the moving pictures he sees. He’s back in Setauket, playing hide and seek with his friends during their childhood years. The forest is explored to its last corner and gives him a feeling of safety. He finds Abraham first who never was the best at hiding. Together, they search for Caleb and curse about his superior hiding skills.
The scene switches. He’s sitting on a bench in their church with his father who teaches him the lessons of the Bible. Ben doesn’t understand the exact words but he looks up to him and they smile at each other.
The moment fades to be replaced with a candlelit room he recognizes immediately. Just as expected, he’s sitting in his dorm room in Yale, nose buried in a philosophy book, until Nate engages him in a conversation. Shortly after, their lips are connected – the first kiss for both of them – and they land on the bed together, though too shy to move far. Eventually, his memories lead him to the glorious soon to be regrettable moment he joined the army.
Meanwhile, Washington thrusts into Ben in a fast rhythm. He gets alarmed when both the screams and sobs cease and the boy stops moving at all. A glance at the boy’s empty eyes tells him that Ben is still awake, but Washington knows he’s crowding him out. The general will not accept such offense.
“Hey!” he shouts and presses himself to Ben’s back. The hand holding his arm now moves to Ben’s throat. The threat pulls him back into the cruel reality and his eyes jump around in fear. New tears appear in their corners. “Stay with me,” Washington breathes into his ear at which the tears drop.
Without a warning, Washington thrusts harder and deeper than before. He changed the angle to hit Ben’s prostate every time. The screaming resumes and, even muffled, it is music to his ears. More tears than before, more tears than Washington thought possible spill onto his hand.
The taller man chuckles before he withdraws the hand on Ben’s throat and wraps it around his half-hard cock instead. At the contact, the boy screeches as if scorched and tries to fight Washington off. The attempt is just as fruitless and pathetic as all previous ones but it spurs Washington on. He starts pumping Ben’s cock in time with his thrusts and the result is delicious. Besides the sweet, pained noises he elicits, Ben’s ass squeezes him so perfectly.
The major feels horrible. Every roll of hips is torture though now it’s mixed with pleasure he wasn’t asking for. Washington just can’t let him suffer on his own. He has to control and abuse every part of his body and mind. Ben squeals and cries as he feels his cock filling out. Nobody has ever inflicted such humiliation on him. His hopes for redemption shrink with the growing tension in his groin. Still, he cites prayers in his mind.
Washington, on the other hand, feels fantastic. This is working out better than imagined, and Ben does his best to keep it interesting. Washington can’t comprehend his luck for having such a sweet, beautiful boy under him. The moment he saw him in his headquarters, he knew he’s a gift to be unwrapped. When Ben turned out to be cunning, eager, and loyal, Washington’s heart sang in the happiest notes. His rebellious passion only adds to the fun.
Gradually, Washington comes closer to his climax. The heat around him nearly drives him insane. His grunts and groans get louder. But he won’t let it end without tainting Ben one last time.
“Let’s come together, Benjamin,” he rasps into his ear, “you’ll feel better and make me a very happy man.”
Ben doesn’t want to make him happy. Never again. If he ever finds a way to make Washington pay, he will seize the chance.
He is disgusted by the man and he is disgusted by himself as his cock doesn’t obey him. Washington stimulates him, causing blissful sparks with every motion along with the pain. Since it hurts significantly less by now, the pleasure is more prominent and Ben can barely hold it back.
No, please, no, he pleads against Washington’s palm but nothing coherent is audible, not like this. Don’t force me to this. Don’t pull me into your pit. However, neither heaven nor Washington hear him. And he realizes he’s alone. Forever alone with this. The only thing embracing him is darkness.
His peak creeps closer and he can tell by Washington’s ragged breath that the older man will finish at any moment. Washington’s eyes are closed. His pounding becomes more desperate though the hand on Ben’s cock doesn’t neglect its mission, flicking the wrist just right. A few more thrusts and Washington releases inside of him, pressing exactly into his prostate. Ben can’t resist any longer and gets forced over the edge as well, coating Washinton’s hand and staining the floor. It’s the most unsatisfying orgasm he’s ever had.
Washington stays motionless while his heartbeat calms down, panting against Ben’s sweaty skin and making him shiver. He stays like this deliberately long enough for Ben to feel him softening inside of him. Ben feels so gross. His ass is still full of things that don’t belong there.
When Washington finally releases him and takes a step back, Ben slumps to the floor where he curls in on himself. He’s probably lying right on top of the sperm stain, smearing it into his uniform, but he doesn’t care a single bit. Sticky fluids are moving inside and out of him. Quiet sobs and whimpers fill the silent room. His eyes already hurt from crying. They can’t properly produce more tears anymore.
He hears heavy footsteps until Washington steps into his eyesight – clothes already rearranged. The man acts like he doesn’t care about Ben, too focused on his soiled left hand, but Ben knows better. He can feel the attention on him and it’s driving him mad. His head is throbbing.
Then, Washington guides the hand to his lips and begins to lick it clean. Ben wants to throw up at the sight. Even after everything that happened today, Washington finds a new way to disgust him.
By cleaning his hand, Washington reveals something: his wedding ring. Ben remembers that this man is married to a woman. Suddenly, he feels so bad for Martha. He can’t help but wonder how Washington acts around her. Maybe he’s used to being cruel to her in private so the long time apart made him search for other options. Or maybe he spares her but has a specific interest in young men he has to hide from her just like from the rest of the world. Or maybe he didn’t even hide it from her as she can’t do anything against it anyway. Ben’s last prayer is dedicated to her soul and welfare. And that Washington won’t live much longer. At wartime, you never know what’s going to happen.
When Washington is satisfied with his work, his gaze lands on Ben, and he grins. The major feels horrified.
Washington moves towards him and Ben’s heart beats stronger. He tries to crawl away but the trousers around his ankles impair his movement. He’s weak and everything hurts. The man squats next to him and his arms move towards Ben who tries to outdistance him under the table.
“No, please. Don’t come closer.” The words come out as a croak, voice wrecked from the abuse of his throat earlier and all the screaming. But Washington doesn’t listen and wraps his arms around his shoulders. “No! Go away, don’t touch me!” Ben gets louder and more desperate, eyes wide. He tries to push the monster off, unsuccessful as always.
The arms around him pull him close. Washington is warm against him. “Please, don’t,” the boy whispers one last time into Washington’s shoulder.
In the end, he succumbs to his desire for comfort and clings to the veteran. In his head, he keeps cursing the man. Despite his thoughts, his shaking, treacherous body lets itself get settled down by the soothing hands stroking his back. He clasps Washington’s uniform and sniffs into it, eyes shut and lips trembling. He feels so small and right now Washington is the only one to offer him security, no matter how paradoxical it is. Sometimes… the most paradoxical thing is acceptable when nothing else is on offer.
“Shh… It’s over now,” Washington says softly into his hair, “It’s over. You’re safe now.” Ben flinches and sobs, but isn’t in the state to protest the irony. So, Washington continues: “I’ve got you, Benjamin. You’ve been so good. My beautiful Benjamin. My golden boy.”
Ben can feel the words in that horrid voice settling deep in his mind to be played over and over until the day his brain stops working. The praise only adding to his self-hatred. He is broken and shattered into a thousand pieces. He cries anew. From now on, an invisible chain links him to Washington. And its weight is the worst torture.