Jolted out of his reverie, Ichabod yelped when Ruin seized his wrist.  Belatedly, he realized that touching someone who’d been molested and abused probably wasn’t the best idea, and he tried to pull away -- more embarrassed by his thoughtless action than afraid of Ruin’s retribution.  But the demon held him with remorseless strength.  “I’m sorry,” Ichabod squeaked as Ruin’s grip tightened, threatening to crush flesh and snap bone.  Part of him wanted to point out that if<span style="font-style: italic">somebody</span>hadn’t terrified the tavern staff, then maybe they could have stayed in town long enough to find Ruin some more suitable clothes.  However, that bit of logic seemed unlikely to make Ruin release him, and being released was currently Ichabod’s primary concern.  “I wasn’t thinking.  It won’t happen again.”<br/><br/>His words seemed to appease the demon, because Ruin finally let go.  Stepping back, Ichabod rubbed his tender wrist, wondering what might be coming next.  Fortunately, it was just a verbal warning.  But when Ruin insinuated that Ichabod had plans to magically rape him, Ichabod’s eyebrows lifted until they disappeared beneath unruly brown curls.<br/><br/>*First of all,” Ichabod corrected, “I’d be<span style="font-style: italic">your</span>bitch.”  As with most things, Ichabod was flexible when it came to sex -- greedily seizing all the opportunities which came his way, eager to try new things and explore unknown territories.  But he did have his preferences.  His first time, the one time he’d really been in love, had been with a man.  And Ichabod had been the submissive in that relationship.  So, without anything pushing him in another direction, he tended to echo those patterns.  Forever searching for something to replace his lost paradise (although he’d never admit that, not even to himself).  “Second of all, do I look like some fat old guy who can’t get screwed without using binding spells?  I’m capable of find willing partners, thank you very much.”<br/><br/>Then the demon revealed an unexpected fact. “So when I’m uncomfortable, that makes you uncomfortable too?”  Ichabod shook his head, feeling genuine sympathy for Ruin.  “I’m afraid this relationship isn’t going to be terribly pleasant for you.  Stuff tends to happen to me, although never anything really serious.  I think the universe would get bored if I died.  But I have a habit of getting thrown into rivers, falling off buildings, being punched by jealous wives -- that sort of thing.”<br/><br/>Ichabod watched while Ruin tore apart the fallen log, once again impressed by the demon’s great strength.  Perhaps there would be advantages to this partnership, if only he could convince Ruin to treat it as a partnership instead of enslavement.  But it looked like that was going to be a difficult task.  Ichabod winced when Ruin called him ‘<span style="font-style: italic">Master</span>’, hating that title more each time he heard it.  Then, before Ichabod could thank Ruin for providing firewood, the demon made a snarky comment about knowing how to use it.  That did it.  Biting back a nasty retort of his own, Ichabod retrieved a flint from his pack and focused on starting a fire.<br/><br/>Soon, flames were leaping and dancing in the kindling Ruin had provided.  After lingering long enough to warm his hands, Ichabod set up his sleeping roll.  It was a narrow pad, stuffed with goose feathers, and covered by a wool blanket.  Not the most luxurious bed in the world, but better than sleeping on the ground.  Speaking of which...Ichabod cast a guilty glance over to where Ruin had lain down.  True, the demon possessed infernal heat to keep him warm, but it still didn’t look very comfortable.<br/><br/>“Listen,” Ichabod began nervously.  He had no idea how Ruin might react to his suggestion, especially considering what had happened earlier.  “I know how this is going to sound.  But there’s room for you on my sleeping mat.  You get a softer bed and I benefit from your warmth.  Nothing creepy, I swear.”  Holding up a hand, Ichabod forestalled any comments Ruin might make.  “However, I’m not ordering you.  Do what you want.”