#its convenient if theres vamps tho

[echo-goes-mmm]

Silas and Wren #4

Masterpost

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Warnings: past forced body mod

After a while, Wren felt a little more settled. He knew where each room was now, and the ‘new master’ jitters had mostly gone. In record time, too. Master Silas had a routine, and the predictableness soothed him. 

There were a few things he hadn’t gotten used to yet. The bed was nice, but strange to sleep in. The first night he dragged the covers off and slept underneath instead. The second night, he toughed it out, tossing and turning. It just felt wrong to sleep on something softer than the floor. But it was growing on him. 

Mornings were the best part of the day. He would roll out of bed (or crawl out from underneath) and instead of dreading the day, he made his own breakfast. So far berries and yogurt was his favorite, but he tried something different every morning.

He learned that Master Silas liked to sleep in late, whereas Wren got up around dawn. It was quiet and peaceful, and Wren liked it. Compared to the cramped noisiness of the market, it was paradise.

After Master got up, he ate for the day. Usually he drank from a preportioned blood pack. They came in fun varieties. Yesterday, he saw Silas sip from what looked like a juice box, straw and everything. Wren still smiled thinking about it. He wondered what package shape Master Silas had today. 

“Wren,” called Master, “can I drink from you today?”

“Of course, Master.”

Master Silas led him into the drawing room. He sat on the couch and beckoned him to sit.

“I don’t think you’ll faint,” he said, “but this way you won’t fall if you do.” Obediently, Wren sat next to Silas.

“Here, let me just…” Master took his chin in hand, soft as a feather. He guided him to tilt his neck, just so.

Silas numbed the little patch of skin with one of his vampire kisses. It was just a brush of his lips, really, but Wren secretly liked to call them kisses. 

Silas sank his fangs into his skin. There was a warm, tugging feel to it, and it was strange but not unpleasant. He drank in long, deep pulls, and Wren could feel the pulse of blood leaving him.

It only took a moment or two, and Silas was finished. He ‘kissed’ the tender part of Wren’s skin, closing the wound. He took a handkerchief out of his pocket, wiping off his neck.

“Thank you, Wren. How do you feel? Okay?”

“Yes, Master, I feel fine.” 

He actually felt pretty good. It was nice to be thanked, and it was an easy job. It gave him a warm fuzzy feeling, and it wasn’t just the blood loss speaking.

“That’s great. Let me get you some water, just in case.” 

After Master was finished with his breakfast- was it ‘breakfast’ if it was his only meal? Or did that make it more breakfast?- he got out a flat wooden box and a little cloth bag.

“You don’t have to, but would you like to have a game of mancala with me?” 

“I’m not sure how, Master,” he said, apologetic.

“Well, that’s easily fixed.” Silas explained the rules to him while setting up the board. It seemed simple enough, and Wren liked the sound the little marbles made.

After the first game, he could feel Master Silas’s eyes on him. He looked up from the board.

“Is there something wrong, Master?”

“Sorry, it’s just… What is that? Under your shirt?” Wren looked down. He couldn’t see anything, aside from his- oh.

He flushed, heat rising in his face.

“They’re, um. My piercings.”

“You have nipple piercings?” He felt his face flush even more. He must look ridiculous.

“My- my previous Mistress liked the look, so she had them done.” Silas’s face screwed up in disgust. 

“Take them out,” he ordered.

“Yes, Master.” He reached under his shirt, and began to unscrew the left one.

“Wait, I mean. You can keep them if you want to,” said Master, looking away. “Sorry.”

“I uh. I don’t really like them,” he explained. “So I don’t mind.”

“Oh.”

Wren carefully pulled out the bars. In truth, he hated them. He’d only left them because he’d been sold with them in. Slaves were sold "as is".

If he had a choice, he might like an earring, but that was up to Silas.

“What do you want me to do with the metal, Master?”

“Here,” said Master, holding out his hand. “I’ll get rid of them.” Good. He’d never have to see those awful things again.

But when he dropped the pieces in Master Silas’s palm, he hissed and jerked away, the bars sent flying.

“Are those silver?” said Master, shaking his palm. 

“I- I’m sorry!” said Wren, lunging for the jewelry as it rolled away. He scooped up the pieces. “I didn’t know, I swear!”

“It’s fine,” growled Master, blowing air on his hand. There was a red spot in the center, like he’d scalded himself with hot water. Silas glanced towards Wren, and he couldn’t stop himself from trembling.

“Really,” he said, his voice calmer, “I’m fine. Not your fault.”

Wren let out a shaky breath. Silas had said it himself, it wasn’t his fault.

Master got out his handkerchief. He used the cloth to pluck the body jewelry from Wren. He got up, and grabbed an envelope from the desk in the corner. He shook the silver into the envelope, and sealed it. 

“There,” he said. “No harm done. I’ll dispose of it later.”

Silas sat back down.

“I don’t suppose you remember whose turn it was?” he asked, as casual as anything. Wren felt his heartbeat settle a bit.

“Um, yours? I think?”

Master picked up the marbles with his left instead of his right. Guilt swirled in Wren’s gut. He never would have given Silas his piercings if he had known.

Master Silas glanced up at him. “It’s really okay. It’ll be gone by tomorrow,” he reassured him, voice soft.

Well, as long as Master wasn’t too bothered, he supposed it was alright. At least he wasn’t being punished.

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