#also if youre wondering: Noct didn't slap him cause he doesnt want to “damage” River

[echo-goes-mmm]

Hoarding Behavior #4

Masterpost

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Warnings: non-graphic processing of an animal (dead deer)

River woke up with purring in his ear and warmth against his cheek. What? His eyes flew open. He was on the opposite side of where he started, pressed into Master’s chest. He looked around wildly, and Master’s arms were loosely cradling him close. 

It wasn’t the worst feeling in the world, but there were better places to be than in the arms of a Master who could tear him apart. He slipped out from the hold. Noct cracked open an eye, but said nothing. He curled up on himself, and went back to sleep.

Now what?

He gazed around the den. His eyes landed on the cooking fire. Pots and pans hung on hooks from the wall. Breakfast sounded good.

He grabbed some eggs from a carton on the counter. He took a pan off the wall, and ran straight into a problem. How would he light the fire? It had long since gone out, and there were no matches or any flint. Of course there wouldn’t be; why would a dragon keep those around?

“Need a light?” He jumped. Master was right behind him.

“Yes, please.”

Master leaned over the wood and puffed a ball of flames. It lit instantly, a low heat perfect for eggs. 

“Thank you, Master.” He began to crack the eggs into the pan.

“I am going hunting,” Noct informed him, “I must kill all the bears in the wood to appease the village.”

“What about the wolves?”

“There are no wolves in the forest. I implied there was to make a better deal,” admitted Master, “Wolves are clever, and would not bother sharing territory with a dragon.”

“Oh. Um, have fun?” Noct cocked his head.

“I suppose I will. I do not care for bears. They dig up my garden and steal honey from the nearby hives.”

“You have a garden?” asked River as he scrambled his eggs.

“Of course. Why would I not?”

“I just… thought dragons ate only meat.” It seemed silly in hindsight. He had just eaten the dragon's food last night, and that had potatoes.

“Mostly. But I am fond of many things. I would not buy from humans when I can hunt and grow it myself. Aside from bread, of course.”

“Right.” River imagined Noct kneading bread and getting dough caught on his claws and the patches of scales on his hands.

“I will be back.”

“Okay.”

River ate breakfast slowly. Noct would be gone for at least a few hours. He washed the pan in the marble sink and hung it back on the wall. What to do now? He supposed he could just go back to sleep and wait for him to come back.

River laid back down. He sighed, staring at the ceiling. Even that was clean. Everything was clean. There wasn’t even a cobweb to dust away.

River wasn’t used to just lounging around. Even the servants at his old owners’ houses left messes for him to clean. There was always something to do. But Noct was incredibly tidy.

He sat up, already bored. He eyed Master’s collections on the shelves and displays. A tour of Noct’s things couldn’t hurt.

___________________

He was so fucked. 

River stared at the remains of the glass statue. He’d tripped over that damn chain and his elbow knocked it off the shelf.

He heard the distant whoosh of air in the tunnel. 

Of course Master would come home now, when he had no time to clean it up.

He watched, petrified, while Master carried in a deer on his shoulder. Noct glanced around the cave as he dumped the deer on the stone. His eyes landed on River and he must have seen something on his face, because he frowned and made his way over.

“What troubles you, my treas-” Master stopped dead in his tracks, staring at the shattered glass. 

“I- I’m sorry, it was an accident-” Master whirled on him, snarling. River stepped back, but Noct grabbed his wrist in a bruising grip. He raised a hand-

But the slap never came. Noct’s hold loosened.

River opened his eyes. Master was still clearly pissed, but he dropped River’s wrist and turned back to the shattered statue. 

“Go away,” he said, his voice oddly upset, “I will punish you later.”

River left him by the glass, and he sat in the nest. He grabbed a pillow, clutching it tight to his stomach and burying his face into it.

A faint sniffling reached his ears. He looked over. Noct was sitting on the floor, a piece of glass in his claws. He saw Master wipe his eyes. 

River couldn’t imagine that a small statue of a horse was sentimental or especially valuable, but dragons were different from humans. They were hoarders, drawn to certain items. Maybe it didn’t matter the object, everything they deemed important was worth crying over.

He really messed up.

Noct cleaned up the glass. But instead of coming over and punishing River as promised, he dragged his catch of deer to the kitchen. He began to butcher it, skinning it and portioning out cuts of meat.

River stewed in anticipation as he watched Noct get up to his elbows in viscera. It made sense to punish him after salting and wrapping the meat. He couldn’t let the dead deer linger in the warm room, but he hated waiting like this.

Noct opened a stone door in the wall, and disappeared behind it. That must be where Master stored most of his food.

He waited as Master returned and cleaned up the blood and gore.

He waited as Master went to dispose of the excess.

He waited as Master washed the pelt.

He waited as Master went to clean himself up.

He waited as Master set the skin aside for tanning.

Until finally, Master turned to him. His face was stern and impassive, and River shrank under his gaze. He took the pillow from River and tossed it aside. 

Master hauled him up and dragged him to another part of the nest. He forced River to his knees, sat in front of him, and then pulled River over his lap. 

River flushed. He whimpered when Master yanked down his pants and pinned his wrists with one hand.

The first smack surprised him. He gasped, jolting forward in Master’s lap.

His face burned and he tugged involuntarily against Master’s grip. Master barely noticed, his hold like stone as each measured smack landed on his ass. Soon the dull ache of each blow turned into a stinging pain when his hand landed on him. Again. And again. And again.

It was humiliating.

His whines turned to sobs, but Master did not let up. He wasn’t hitting him any harder than before, but it felt worse with each strike.

Until finally he was finished. River lay limp, and he pulled his arms close to bury his head in them. He didn’t have the energy to move off of Master’s lap.

Master rubbed his back and let him cry.

As far as punishments went, it wasn’t… the worst. His ass hurt like hell and he was completely drained. But a spanking was vastly preferable to the cutting torture of a whip. It was more embarrassing, somehow, even though Master had left him nearly dressed. When River got the whip, he had to strip to his boxers and everyone saw everything. But here he was strangely more flushed and ashamed while covered up with only Master to see.

After a few minutes, he could breathe properly again. He sat up and wiped his face with his hand.

“Here,” said Master, handing him a pillow. River pulled it close in a tight hug.  Master draped a blanket around him.

Master got up, glancing towards him with pity as he passed. It was over, and he wasn’t mad anymore. His expression puzzled River. Did he regret punishing him?

Noct began to make a meal, and River didn’t know if it was supposed to be lunch or dinner. Either way, he was grateful when Master handed him a plate of roasted vegetables and a tender cut of seared meat. 

Master had given him a knife with his food, but clearly he was supposed to use his hands to eat. 

River still felt miserable, a headache forming, but it was a little funny when Noct used the claw on his finger as a fork to stab the veggies. He supposed he wouldn’t bother with a fork either if his hands had naturally pointy bits.

But the way Noct ate his venison- sharp teeth flashing and the steak quickly disappearing down his throat- reminded River that he was trapped with a predator. The most dangerous, lethal predator in the world, and River belonged to him. Even if his idea of a punishment was far more gentle than he was used to, Noct was still deadly.

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