-1-

“I don’t believe in safe words,” Kenneth Maxwell explains, his breath catching in his throat. “But I’ll use one with you. It will be your first name.”

“I understand sir,” Haley responds. His fingers absently tracing the RLA tattoos on Maxwell’s bare muscled chest.

Maxwell closes his eyes and groans in pleasure as he strokes himself harder.

“Now,” Maxwell says in a stilted command. “Do it now.”

Maxwell lays supine on  his bed in only his uniform pants which were pulled down just enough so he could pleasure himself.  Haley sat fully dressed on top of his superior, straddling Maxwell’s waist and staring down as the older man’s face  contorted in anticipation.

Haley picks up Maxwell’s discarded leather belt and carefully loops it around Maxwell’s neck. He puts the strap through the buckle and pulls it until the leather is kissing the skin of Maxwell’s clean shaven neck.

“Pull,” Maxwell commands.

Haley tightens the belt until the leather is digging  deeper into Maxwell’s skin. Maxwell’s  reaches for his neck on instinct, but he quickly  grips the side of the bed instead.

“Harder,” Maxwell orders in a raspy voice.

“I’m scared,” Haley says.

Maxwell reaches up and grips Haley’s undone hair and forces his eyes to meet his.

“I said harder,” Maxwell orders again.

Haley gives the belt a hard tug and Maxwell’s face flits between terror and pleasure before his dark pupils roll into the back of his head. His grip on Haley’s hair releases and his entire body goes slack as he slips into  unconsciousness.

Haley quickly loosens the belt and leans his head down to Maxwell’s hard chest. He can hear Maxwell’s faint heartbeat, but it feels slower than it should be.

Haley leans close to Maxwell’s body and presses his lips to his. He doesn’t know what he expects to happen—Maxwell stays unconscious.

Haley still didn’t know what he was doing with Maxwell and he was ashamed of the sudden attraction he felt. He’d been sharing Maxwell’s bed since the night he’d blacked out, but it hadn’t made Maxwell less of a mystery. He still never spoke to him about anything other than the camp, but submitting to pain seemed to be Maxwell’s secret pleasure.

Haley was glad for that.

A light flashed in Haley’s peripheral vision and he turned to see Maxwell’s abandoned syndicate flashing blue on the bedside table.

The RLA Syndicates flashed green when they had a message, yellow  if the message was urgent and red if the Syndicate had been compromised.

Never blue.

Haley considers projecting the message to see if it is important. It was still mid-day afterall and the camp was running at full capacity. Maxwell had slipped away by telling  Corp. Strange and Corp. St. John he was on a confidential conference call.

Before Haley can reach for the Syndicate the flashing stops.

“Sgt. Maxwell,” Haley whispers into his ear. “Sir ? ”

When he doesn’t respond he roughly shakes Maxwell’s shoulder.

“Maxwell ?,” he says.

Climbing off the bed, Haley walks to the small  desk and  pulls open a cluttered drawer and  takes out the pocket sized leather case. Maxwell had told Haley to stick the syringe with the clear liquid in his heart if it seemed like he wasn’t waking up

Opening the case, Haley isn’t surprised to see it the case is lined with dozens of syringes and pipes. But he is caught off guard by the single syringe that is the tell-tale violet color of Clarity.  As Haley pulls out the syringe he is suddenly yanked back by his waist.

“I--”

Before he can get a word out Maxwell  pushes his tongue into his mouth. His kiss is rough and desperate and mostly teeth. Haley can feel Maxwell’s new erection pressing hard against his body.

 “Next time you’ll handcuff me. And you’ll tighten the noose quicker, ” Maxwell growls.

“I thought I’d killed you--”

 “Thought or wanted ?,” Maxwell asks.

Maxwell laughs at Haley pause, slowly running his tongue over Haley’s mouth.

“If I honestly thought you would have the balls to kill me like I know you want to I’d never trust you to do this,”

“I don’t want to kill you—“

 “Yes, you do--”

“No I--”

 “You should.” Maxwell smiles.

Fisting Haley’s collar Maxwell forces Haley close to him.

“I’m going to fuck you over my desk,” Maxwell tells him reaching for Haley’s zipper.

Haley’s hands go to Maxwell’s to stop him.

“I don’t think I can do that sober--”

“I can fix that.”

“I don’t--”

“It’s too late play innocent,” Maxwell argues.

Before Haley can respond Maxwell forces him over the desk. The moment Haley’s stomach slams into the hard surface of the desk a sharp pain radiates from his stomach followed by a warm sensation in his belly.

 “…..My stitches,” Haley hisses

He stands and Maxwell watches as a small patch of Haley’s shirt turns dark as blood pools from the re-opened wound.

“Shit,” Maxwell says distracted.

“Should I go to--”

“Shut up,” Maxwell barks.

Maxwell’s  attention hadn’t been on Haley’s re-opened wound, but on the floor, where his Sydnicate had fallen in their struggle.

It was flashing blue again, this time the blue flashes closer together.

Maxwell puts the Syndicate to his ear and his eyes wander across the message waiting for him.

 “Fucking Winthrop,” Maxwell whispers before throwing the Syndicate on the bed and quickly  throwing on his undershirt.

“Wait…Senator Winthrop ?,” Haley asks.

Maxwell stops in the middle of hastily buttoning of his dress shirt.

“No. Lieutenant Winthrop. How the fuck do you know that name ?”

“I—um, it’s always on the news you listen to”

“You’re still lying to me,” Maxwell says looping his tie and shrugging on his jacket. “But I don’t have time for your bullshit.”

“Um, sir, can I go to the infirmary--”

“Where the fuck is my belt!,” Maxwell yells in frustration, tossing everything off the bed.

“It’s still around your neck, sir,” Haley says quickly.

Maxwell pauses and amused he reaches  for the belt hanging loosely over his neck and loops it through his waist as he heads for the door.

“I think I broke a stitch from my gunshot wound. Can I go to the infirmary ?,” Haley asks again.

“Not yet,” Maxwell says. “Walk with me.”

He walks in step with Maxwell. They pace through the halls and towards the corporal barracks.

“Did something bad happen, sir ?,”  Haley asks, referencing the message from Winthrop.

“I honestly don’t know yet,” Maxwell says.

They turn the hallway past the  corporal’s barracks and out of the front door of the barracks. Once they are outside Maxwell shoves Haley hard to the ground and he lands with a hard smack on the barren earth.. A group of wandering corporals witness it. Most of them advert their eyes but a few curse in shocked  amusement.

“Now you may go the infirmary,” Maxwell says. “Tell Audrina you broke you stitches from falling.”

He nods, even though they both know she won’t believe it.

As Maxwell makes his way to his office he is cut off by St. John jogging up to him.

“Sir, I just received a order direct from Headquarters. They said they couldn’t reach you---”

“Who is with the privates ?,”

“Corp. Strange, sir,” St. John responds. “Sir, headquarters is asking that we offload 30% of our inmate population. They’ve sent a list of who they recommend. I’ve already asked Halloran to begin arranging the transport--”

“I got the message,” Maxwell says. “I’ll take it from here.”

“Yes, sir.” St. John said with a nod. “And sir--”

“What ?,”

“Um..Nothing, sir.”

“What corporal ? ”

“I was just going to ask you, sir…..Why are they doing this, sir ? Did we do something ?”

Maxwell had no fucking clue, but in lieu of answering he turns his back on St. John and slams his office door. St. John couldn’t be too far from the truth.

 He had either done something very good. Or something very bad.

---

-2-

“You didn’t fall,” Audrina says, her hands on her hips.

Her usually pristine black scrubs were stained  and wrinkled. She looked like she hadn’t slept in a week, which could be close to the truth

An resistant flu virus has been going around among the privates and they had quickly filled the beds in the infirmary with high fevers and uncontrollable vomiting. Much to her chagrin Sgt. Maxwell only allowed the privates one day of rest from the flu before they were put back out into boot camp—which only seemed to lead to more injuries.

“You can tell me,” Audrina  says as she finishes the last stitch.

Haley doesn’t answer and stares impatiently at the floor.

“Alex, If someone is hurting you, you need to at least tell Maxwell. He may not do it happily, but he’ll protect you.”

Without thinking Haley twists his fingers in his ponytail nervously and he can feel his face heating up.

 “Are you fucking kidding me ?,” Audrina whispers throwing her gloves away violently. “Shit. Tell me if you want me to do something...”

“It’s not like that,” he says. “It’s fine, really.”

“I don’t believe you.” she says. “But be careful.”

He nods his head and the moment the bandage is back on he jumps off the table and heads for the door without another word to her.  

Haley only gets a few steps away from the infirmary when he stops to let Corp. St. John and Corp. Strange pass. They are dressed in their workout clothes just coming from the afternoon PT. Strange stops short and taps St. John on the shoulder.

"What are you staring at ?," Strange asks Haley, his icy eyes pinned on him.

"I--sorry, sir--"

"What was the Sergeant's  private conference call about this morning ?," Strange asks

"I have no idea," Haley says and makes to move only to be stopped by St. John's touch on his arm. His body siffens at the feeling.

"We want to talk to you," St. John says quietly. "Walk with us to the barracks."

Neither of the senior corporals had ever engaged Haley, even though they shared a table at every meal.

"I can't," he lies."Audrina told  Sgt. Maxwell I was on my way and he'll be angry if I'm late."

The men exchanged looks that said they didn't believe him.

"This won't take long," St. John says.

Before he can argue St. John takes Haley's arm and  ushers him around the back of one of the storage sheds. The men take off their Syndicates and Strange practically rips Haley's Syndicate from his ear. Strange puts them all into a clear box.

"Signals should be down," Strange says to St. John.

"Listen, I've decided to put together a formal complaint to headquarters," St. John said. "I want to get Maxwell a court martial."

"Why, sir ?," Haley asks. Although what he really wanted to know was why now.

"Don't play dumb," St. John said. "Look, none of the other corporals have been here long enough to see the shit I've seen. Laurenti hates me, so you're my last shot.  I imagine you've seen some shit."

"Not really," Haley lied. He wasn't sure why he was lying for Maxwell. Maybe because he knew whatever they were trying wouldn't work.

"Maxwell doesn't care about any of us," Strange adds loudly. "His attitude is going to harm the entire camp. This isn't a pissing contest--"

St. John cuts Strange off with a nudge to his arm, both of their Sydnicates are lighting up with report signal.

"I'll come to your cot tonight," St. John says putting his Syndicate in. "We can talk more then."

"No," Haley says. "I'll come to you."

"So you'll do it ?," Strange asks

"I'll think about it," Haley says

----

So, I actually had to look up exactly how erotic asphyxiation works and basically what I found was nothing because you are not supposed to do it ever. Lots of people die from this.