
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/10675659.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Football_RPF
  Relationship:
      Benedikt_Höwedes/Mats_Hummels
  Character:
      Mats_Hummels, Benedikt_Höwedes, Sven_Bender, Marcel_Schmelzer, Lars
      Unnerstall
  Additional Tags:
      Alternate_Universe, Sexual_Content
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-04-19 Chapters: 1/? Words: 3003
****** [Translation]Prisoner of War ******
by lecitron, moxiao402
Notes
     Hello guys,
     This is a translation for Lecitron's beautiful work
     http://archiveofourown.org/works/5982931/chapters/13749187
     English is my second language, and this work is not beta'd, please
     point out any mistakes in the writing. <3
     Awkward phrasing is a thing, and the original work is amazing!!!
     Thanks
  This work was inspired by
      俘虜 by lecitron
Two of the best things in life during this era is to be able to eat, and the
ability to live. Benedikt always thought this way. It gave him slight comfort
and strength when captured then kept in the war. Along with the others,
Benedikt was kept within a crowded metal cell, but he didn't think like them.
The boy had no time to sob or grief over the longing fear of war.

As long as it he wasn't being hanged or beheaded, Benedikt thought nothing
worse of being a prisoner. The cities has been at each other's neck for what?
He's lost count of time, only just surviving the hell of daylight. Adult men
were seen as extinct creatures. They chose to utilise all people who depicted
some typical male features, strength and size. Even adolescent boys like
Benedikt were recruited by the army. The opposition won, at the near end. They
captured a few thousand people. Useful, they described the prisoners, for both
war recruitment or slaves. Or it was, anything but death.

"My granddad told me, those soldiers are insane... They..... They killed
everyone... God we're going to be dead before the end of the day..." Benedikt
stared at the sobbing boy with pity, shadowed by the light. They were born in
the same year, yet much differ in fate, forced into the army just after turning
seventeen of age.

Shut up. Benedikt opened his mouth, but mind was distracted by the tempting,
thick aroma of food. He gulped the hollowness in his mouth. His stomach
rumbled, acid moving. The hazel eyes lit up, searched for the scent's source, a
cure, eyes shifted past a tent in the distance, then there was a sudden slash.
Straight across his back. The boy's eyes reddened. The skin on his left
shoulder bloomed with scarlet. Pain began to spread, weakening the already
shaken torso.

"Look down!" A voice shouted with anger, possibly was one of those god damn
soldier from the last class. The man behind him then slashed the piece of
leather across a nearby wooden hitching post, startling him. Benedikt lowered
his head, lungs pumped, a drop of tear found its way to the mud puddle next to
his feet.

The surrounding filled with chit chats, escalating. The soldiers from Dortmund
all looked content, he observed the satisfied faces. Food must be ready. May be
they could get thrown some left overs. Benedikt's stomach twitched at the
thought. The scrap from this morning was already digested into a spread mist.
Emptiness.

Especially when the world was blanketed by the familiar scent of home made stew
by his mother. Home.

[There's only hope when one stays alive, Benni... Stay alive and come home.]

Eyes closed together tightly. Water drops followed the thin creases by the
corner of his eyes, tracing the sharp and soft edges of his feature until the
tip of his nose, escalating, then a drop. Pain and hunger, blurring the
multitude images of his past, of home. Benedikt didn't to keep his eyes shut
for any longer, he fears for the loss of memory, a family picture of his sister
and mother.

Or it could be from the longing dizziness within his brain.

He wanted to kneel on the ground for just a short break, but there was the
other case.

The heavy breathing and strong foot steps of horses came nearer and nearer to
the corner, Benedikt lifted his eyes with caution, but was only displayed with
an eye full of dark chestnut-coloured uniform along with a pair of muddy
leather boots. He didn't look up any further, instead he stared hollowly at the
horse's strong hooves and the deep muddy puddles.

The man on the horse, now stood infront of him. Benedikt felt the touch of
leather, held among his neck. Sticky trails of blood was mixed in with the dust
and mud across his face. The man forced him to look at him, straight into the
emotionless expression.

Eyes half lidded, he couldn't catch a glimpse of the other man's appearance,
only remembering the stubbles among his chin and those dark pupils beneath the
distinctive eyebrows. The man freed his hand, but Benedikt was immediately
greeted with the icy foreign touch of metal on his neck. He firstly thought it
to be a blade, the realised the thickness of a chain, and a key attached to the
middle.

Benedikt felt the stained hand upon his cheek again. The strong scent of blood
accompanied by the sticky sensation brushed his long fringe back and forth, as
if checking a farm animal for faults. When the man took his hand away, a finger
brushed away the soft strands of brown hair, again, leaving a trail of blood
upon his eyebrow.

Three days later, they arrived at Dortmund. Benedikt finally realised the
meaning of that chain, still tied around his neck. Other prisoners were still
kept with the rest of the army, except him, was taken away on his own. Tired
legs dragged their way through multitude unknown streets. Feet ached like fire
burning at the bottom. The pack finally stopped in front of the back door of a
mansion. The boy was accepted by one of its servant, like a parcel, then thrown
into a room with only a rat-hole like window and nothing.

He couldn't be bothered to decipher a reason behind all this. The boy was
starving, eating the same amount of a rat's dinner, his growing body acting
like a baby, unable to maintain under extreme hunger. He didn't give a fuck
about manners, being some captured nonsense took away his sense of pride, but
the problem was of the emptiness throughout the cells. Noises echoed within the
hollow corridors, not even providing him with a chance to beg.

Benedikt leaned against the hard concrete wall and took a seat, gazing into the
thin line of light within the cracks, hoping for someone to sent over some
food. As saying, the man who picked him up from the cells, that was probably
some ranked officers in the Dortmund army, wouldn't have brought him here just
for the reason to kill him.

His hand grabbed onto the cool metal around his neck by conscious, it was as
cold and hard as the wall against his back, same as the eyes of that man.
Time passes slowly when one's hungry, that's one realisation for Benedikt
today. The boy tried to force himself into sleeping, but that wasn't the case.
He waited until the surrounding was quiet, then got to his aching feet and
decided to walk around the isolated cell, hoping to fall asleep after wasting
all of his energy, then wake up to food by his side.

Must have been his lucky day. The scratches of metal against metal followed by
a loud clang vibrated in the air as the door opened.

The person came in, without wearing an uniform of any kind, probably a servant
in the mansion. However it was depressing to see the empty hands, the unmoved
lips, only suggesting Benedikt to follow him away.

With the comparison with the building's wide exterior, the decorations within
seemed overly simple, even old fashioned. This didn't stop Benedikt, even being
a country boy he is, to realise the owner's power and title, despite being
wealthy.

Did the owner think to keep him as a slave or something? Benedikt thought, a
sheepish look on his face. It wouldn't be a bad place to stay in anyway.

The man infront curved into a quiet corridor, and opened a indistinctive wooden
door, but moved aside and made a "welcome" gesture to the boy.

Benedikt stood still, a confused look on his face as he contemplated. The
servant wasn't annoyed either, he stood still like a tree, the sturdy look from
his eyes not connected to Benedikt. He could only walk into the blanket of
warmth and dryness from fireplace. The door closed in an instant, startling the
boy.

A plainly decorated bedroom, except the king-size bed in the middle which
looked as it could would be fine for 5 people on top, it made the room see more
spacious. However, Benedikt could see nothing else other than a wooden desk
next to the fireplace.

A basket of breads, and also.... Benedikt swore he saw a pie in the plate
aside, buttery pastry scent alluring him forward.

The boy nearly sprinted towards the table, he suddenly felt energy running
through his body. Hands reached out to the food, but was too scared that his
move would be the end of him. Eyeing the food with disire, his body screamed
for just the slightest amount of deserved luxury.

If I get into trouble, then let it be. Benedikt placed aside his fear, grabbed
the soup spoon and began to consume, stuffing his mouth full of food as if it
would be the end of an era.

This was probably what people called heaven. His mouth moved with trouble, but
felt content.

"Looks like they forgot to feed you again."

Benedikt looked up in an instant, dropping the spoon in his hand and quickly
covered his mouth with both hands. A trail of fear vibrated down his back as he
searched for the sound.

"I defenitely reminded them..." His tone dropped slightly.

He found the another door opposing the entrance, hidden beneath layers of
curtains. A man, in a black casual gown leaned against the door frame, face
seemingly calm.

No... Wait a second....

Benedikt studied the man's features, eyes locked on each other.

The man who chained him....

"Come here," the man said, water dripped from the wet curles of his hair, onto
his chest which stayed exposed, despite the gown, "finish your work today, and
I'll give you everything."
-
The Höwedes family couldn't really embrace the high class luxuries, but still
spoilt Benedikt with a joyful childhood. Over the two years of intense warfare,
the boy has learnt to survive without the usual "needs" of his life, throwing
aside his pride just in exchange for a bite of fresh food.

The boy wiped his greasy hand on the dirty pants nervously as he stepped
towards the man.

"What would you like me to do sir?" He was glad for a steady voice, while his
body trembled.

The house owner fell silent. Benedikt could feel the person's eyes on him, as
if sizing him up, then the man turned around. "Come in."

The boy followed his order and walked in. White tiles blanketed by the floral
scent and hot steam. It was a world of mist, it reminded Benedikt of his
sister's secret space in the back garden, where the girl dried her well-grown
lavender by the window, a beautiful aroma that lingered for days and days—

There was sudden pressure against his back. A loud splash in the water.

He tried to get up again, but stumbled again onto all fours. The black haired
man squatted next to the bath tub, watching the boy. His lips curved with
amusement as Benedikt rubbed his eyes clumsily.

"Look at your self. There's probably gonna be half a swamp out here, " the man
stood up, mumbling some words and placed a navy gown next to the bath tub,
"hurry up."

Benedikt stopped, a confused look on his face. The man caught him with his rear
vision, still walking back to the bedroom, and cringed. "Would you like me to
help you?"

The boy shook his head in embarrassment, face reddened in a flush as he removed
everything except the chains. He grabbed the milk coloured soap by the ledge,
the bubbles removing stains, mud, a burning sensation against the cuts along
his back. His mind was still filled with questions, but at least it wasn't from
some freezing mud puddle.

Benedikt was lightly a clean freak, he couldn't help him self but to smile at
the satisfying result. Steaming water massaged his skin, soothing each inch of
skin and muscle in his body. When the soap rubbed across his scarred back, the
boy felt the eyes studying him again, reading through each movement. The
silence made him uncomfortable.

He moved away his eyes half heartedly, hoping that he could quickly finish and
put on some fresh clothes.

"We're having beef for dinner today," the black haired man said.

So..... Does he need to go and help with the cooking? Benedikt looked up with
questions in his eyes, but only seeing the man loosening his black silk gown.
The material traced around the man's broad shoulders and slipped onto the wet
tiles. He didn't seem to mind, relaxed into the water without a word.

"I said, that you'll only get dinner if you finish work today, " the deep voice
spoke, palms climbed to Benedikt's slip waist, traced their ways back to the
tenderness and gave it a gentle knead.

"Sir—" Benedikt nearly let out a disconcerted shriek, but zipped his mouth when
the hand around his waist applied some pressure.

The man shifted his eyes from the thin lips to his neck, then remained on the
freckles at the back of the boy's neck. Lingering sight studied every trace of
skin. "My name is Mats."

Benedikt has heard of this name before, everyone in then Gelsenkirchen army
has. Only because he was a heir of the wealthiest family in Dortmund, signified
through that jet black curly hair and the detrimental loss in his homeland's
army. Furthermore, a rumour spoke of his fetish towards young boys, often
captured from the prisoners, now a truth known by no one but Benediky himself.

Mats' hands radiated heat like the water, but Benedikt only felt the trembles
of coolness down his spine.

"Sir please..." Benedikt moved back. Mats blinked his eyes lethargically and
leaned forward. The boy felt an unnatural heat touching against him.

"Do I need to teach you basic manners?" Mats' tone remained with its
carelessness. The hands still traced along the edges of Benedikt, but with more
strength. "What should you answer when people introduce themselves to you? Um?"

".......Benedikt," he answered helplessly, a sudden pressure among his waist,
"Benedikt Höwedes..."

Strangely, Mats smiled. "Benni is much easier." He traced the tip of his nose
along the damp crook of the boy's neck.

Benedikt only nodded, he couldn't help his trembling self to speak with more
confidence. "Sir, may I ask——"

Mats lifted his head, hand tugged tightly at the boy's brown hair. Benedikt
squirmed at the pain.

"Do I need to brand my name on you just to make you say my name? Boy, it's
easy."

Misty hazel eyes glanced at the Mats, not with tears. He took few deep breaths
to recover from the smothering hot steam, and squeezed out the single syllable
reluctantly.

"See, simple isn't it? Better than the other stupid name at least." His owner
was satisfied, finally released his hand and was back along Benediky's neck
before he stabilised his breaths.

Benedikt wanted to resist. His body melted within the heat, feeling the
tingling sensation along his neck that travelled down his veins, the tight
skin, and the man's toungue as it lingers around the open wounds. The boy
yelped at the strange feeling, which the man took as an encouragement. Mats
sucked against the exposed flesh, nurturing the metallic taste from the boy,
while Benedikt squirmed in pain under his touch.

"The chain, it suits you." Mats spoke, while his finger circled the surrounding
flesh of the boy, causing him to flinch. He enjoyed the waves of fear in the
bright hazel eyes, smirked and began his hand movement against the part at the
boy's lower abdomen.

Benedikt closed his eyes in distaste, hands gripped against the slippery edge
of the bath, but the stones couldn't take his pain away. He tastes a hint of
salt in his mouth, not sure if it was from his tears, or sweat. He embraced the
rough movements of Mats in exchange for no comfort but a fire of lust, which
awaits him for further intrudes.

"Mats...." Benedikt begged again, but he couldn't decipher whether he was
asking for him to stop, or to finish his doings. His dick reacted to the
touches as predicted, he reached for more as a sign of human instinct, in
search for more friction. The boy did know little of sexual intercourse, but
the distinct touch caressing his thigh had gave him some shock. Mats looked
into his eyes as he pressed one finger gently into his entrance with the help
of warm bath water. Benedikt nearly screamed as if his skin burnt under his
touch, clenching onto the strangeness inside his body as a reflective move.

"It's good...." Mats whispered, he stirred, massaged against that warm tight
skin around his finger, encourage the boy to relax. "You're doing fine Benni—"

He's overly sure of his ways to discover, despite Benedikt being slightly
different to his usual taste. To be honest, he doesn't know why this
Gilsenkirchen boy with a freckled cheek has caught his attention. May be he was
overworked from war and the society, to end up this recklessly. The poor boy
already had to endure the pain and unrealised harshness put towards him.

The beautiful sight in front of him was quite surprising. His unique structure
wasn't affected by the fear on his face. Slim body perfectly displayed with the
slender legs of the boy. But the slashes and bruises across his back captured
Mats' sight, as they glowed wildly beaneath the light.
 
He wanted to bite, to taste the flesh beaneath such captivating sight. Mats
grinned, his toungue teased over Bendikt's ear, nibbling gently. "I'd put that
thing down Benni." Benedikt froze, but his hand still gripped tightly to the
bottle.
 
"You'll need to find something heavier if you want to kill me, it's my
favourite one too. Don't ruin it." Mats breathed into his ear, his hand now
pulled away from its warmth, was replaced with a sudden thrust.
 
TBC
 
 
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