bakerstreet | The Slave Auction Meme

The Slave Auction Meme

â§ Leave a comment with the character's name, fandom, and whether your character will be playing the part of 'slave' or 'master', plus preferences for scenarios if you have any.
â§ Respond to others with one of the scenarios below or feel free to make up your own.
â§ Please remember to be respectful of others while you play

Warning: Be aware that this meme deals with dark subjects like slavery and may also contain non-consensual/dubiously consensual sex, violence, and kink.

SLAVES

1. The Newbie - This is your very first auction and you don't quite know what to expect. Hopefully you remember your training and don't disgrace yourself in front of your new master. Hopefully someone thinks you're worth buying at all.

2. The Oldtimer - You've been bought and sold and bought again so many times. You've seen it all before and don't think this time is going to be much different. In fact, the only real anxiety you've got is whether or not someone's going to pay for a more than slightly used slave.

3. The Pet - You're a pleasure slave. A bed warmer. A decorative piece of artwork. You're meant to look pretty and be pleasing and not much else.

4. The Guard - Your master hired you because of your ability to swing a sword or shoot a gun, not your looks.

5. The Escape Artist - Somehow you always manage to squirm out of your master's chains. Too bad you seem to get caught after a while. Maybe your next daring escape will be permanent. Then again, maybe your next master has special ways of keeping you locked up.

6. The Undercover - You aren't a slave at all, you're just pretending to be one. Why? Well that's up to you. Either way, your cover is blown if you don't act the part.

7. The Specialist - You have a skill that no one else has. Something rare and valuable. Something your master needs more than anything else.

MASTERS

1. The Customer - You've owned slaves before and this trip to the market is nothing new to you. Still, you're hoping to find something worth your while.

2. The Gift - Someone bought a pet for you, isn't that nice of them? Or maybe it isn't so nice. Did you even want a slave in the first place? Well you're stuck with one now.

3. The Giver - You're selecting a slave for someone else, and they need to be perfect. Perhaps you'd better test them out first to make sure you're getting your money's worth.

4. The Trainer - You specialize in taming unruly slaves and making them over into perfect, obedient, well-trained pets.

5. The Rebel - You hate the idea of slavery, but the system isn't going to go away any time soon, so the next best thing is to buy up any slave you can get your hands on and free them, right?

6. The Companion - You want someone to be with you always, someone you can talk to and depend on, someone who will never leave your side. It's a good thing that money can buy that these days.

7. The Undercover - You're not actually a Master. You're at the auction for an entirely different reason. Maybe it's special policework, maybe you're trying to hunt down a certain someone. Either way, your cover is blown unless you act the part.

As always, feel free to use a combination of scenarios or make up your own if you have other ideas.

Snagged from here.

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By the time Fae comes to the end of the hallway, he still hasn't found anywhere that he can hide, but the path does curve into another staircase leading down to the first floor. There's a pause where he looks over his shoulder, debating whether he should go back for Keelan before descending, but the arguing voices of the guards looming closer push him to abandon the thought and quickly hurry down the stairs on his own.

At the bottom, his feet pad onto the cool linoleum floor of a kitchen, moonlight gleaming silver over various pots and other utensils scattered about. One glint in particular that catches his attention is a set of knives hanging on a far wall. Fae is immediately stalking towards it, tucking the pins through a fold in his pants to hold them as he takes one of the larger knives from its perch. The close of his knuckles around the handle earns a wince and so he switches hands, tossing the knife lightly so it turns in the air before catching it again. It's not his dominant hand, but the weight of a weapon makes him feel better regardless.

He's about to search for anything else he can use when the sound of a door opening freezes him. His heart jumps into his throat, pounding with adrenaline, until he realizes it wasn't the kitchen door that opened - it was the front entrance.

"Boss!"

Fae stiffens, his grip tightening around the knife as he hurries to the swaying kitchen door. He pushes it without making a sound, just enough to peek out, and finds two men stepping into the foyer from outside before being met by the guards who were tailing him and Keelan, rushing down the main stairs towards the new arrivals.

Good, he thinks briefly, they didn't find Keelan.

One of the men wears an expression like he's being forced to look upon something offensive. He's slim but not delicate-looking, there's clearly muscle beneath his suit and with his hair slicked back, there's a confidence in his eyes that pierces through the two men bumbling towards him.

Fae remembers him - he was the one at the auction who raised his card.

So that's big boss, huh?

Again, Fae's fingers squeeze around the knife's handle. He's taller with a tad more brawn than Fae but nothing to be scared of on a one-on-one. He could kill him - right now. It would be so easy. What gives Fae pause isn't his injuries, it isn't even the disadvantage of the guards being there with him - it's the hulking mammoth Zeke walked in with. Fae doesn't know who he is but he's easily twice Fae's size, with a stern face and thick hands he can't imagine are not always balled into fists like that, ready to fight.

Even in peak condition, Fae would have trouble with him. Fae's strong but his fighting prowess relies mostly on skill, speed, and luck - he's not built for brute force, nor drawn-out fights. Cleverness will only get him so far. There's no way he can get to Zeke with that monster to deal with first.

Frustrated, he simply watches and listens to the exchange.

"What do you two think you're doing?" Zeke glances over the man with the mangled face. "Something I should be concerned about?"

The man quickly covers his nose. "N-no..."

A raised brow, and the man's partner steps in, nonchalantly clicking his tongue, yet somehow seeming equally as nervous.

"The new one got a good hit on him while we were bringin' 'im back, that's all."

"I just got distracted!"

"Well, I'm not paying you to be distracted and certainly not to get blood on my carpet. I didn't think you could possibly be any more disgusting to look at, but I suppose I've been known to be wrong on occasion. Clean up."

"Fucking..." The man glowers, obviously offended, but then turns away with a low, "Yes, sir."

Fae's shoulders lose a bit of tension as one of the men leaves the room. He watches as Zeke raises his hands and lowers his gaze to them, pulling at the fingertips of a satin glove as he speaks to the guard that's been left behind.

"Has my prettiest pet finished with my latest investment then? This is the only reason I can think to excuse you being away from your post."

"He..."

Fae's heart pounds, uncertain if the guard will spill everything about their escape.

"He passed out - the new one."

Oh?

Fae snorts. Apparently these men are so terrified of their employer, they're willing to gamble on finding the two slaves before Zeke finds out they even escaped in the first place.

The man is clearly sweating bullets, but for his part, Zeke seems almost too composed at the information.

"...Pity." He smoothly pulls his glove from his hand and starts working on the second one. "After such a spirited display following his purchase, I expected a bit more in terms of entertainment. If he's truly reached his limit already, then I'd like to hear the details from his trainer's lips - not yours. Bruce," he turns his head to the hulking man behind him, "bring me Keelan."

"NO!" The smaller guard nearly jumps forward, and the movement is enough to cause alarm to skitter across Zeke's face before falling to a sharp suspicion. The guard holds his hands out as he explains, attempting to hide how flustered he is behind a veil of confidence, "I mean, Boss, I'll get 'im. Bruce gets him nervous, don't he? He's in a good mood after breakin' the other one, maybe he'd be easier to talk to if I bring 'im, yeah?"

Zeke's eyes narrow as his second glove comes off - a motion that's much sharper than the removal of the first one. "That's unusually perceptive of you, Maurice, but you have a point. Though I can't imagine why, it is rare to catch him in good spirits." He folds both gloves and passes them to Bruce without looking away from Maurice. "Bring him to my office. Bruce, once Maurice has retrieved Keelan, see what you can do with the pink one. I'm doubtful he could be so used up already." The sharp edge in his voice smooths out with his next words, lips curling into a small smirk, "As determined to obey his orders as Keelan might be, he is a sweet thing and can be easily fooled by cunning opponents."

He should know.

Bruce nods in understanding, and Fae's eyes widen as all three men proceed up the stairs. He peels out from the kitchen, gaze darting towards the door.

He can leave. Right now.

But...

Again his determination falters as temptation baits him. Fae's eyes flick towards the staircase, to the door, and the staircase again, his knuckles burning white from his grip on the knife's handle.

[LONG TAG i hope i didn't murder Zeke's character lmao...anyway I have a thought for Keelan's pov! he probably doesn't know Fae is downstairs, he can only hear Zeke and everyone talking, so maybe when someone approaches the curtain (it's Fae ofc) he thinks it's Zeke? if this were animated the cut between Fae deciding whether or not to leave on his own and Keelan not knowing who's about to rip the curtain back would be very dramatic uou!]

Edited 2016-10-09 21:08 (UTC)

Behind the curtain, Keelan's breathing was even. He moved into the same calm state of mind and body he tended to move into when something unpleasant was happening. It kept him from panicking, and usually kept him from focusing on pain. This time, there was no pain to keep at bay. Just the overwhelming dread that one or both of them would be captured.

He had overcome the guards, listening to their conversation. There was even a spark of triumph at having done so. Now he waited, on the verge of impatience but never crossing, for Fae to come back for him and them to finish their escape.

Then, there was one word that pierced through the almost deafening silence the guards left in their wake. Boss.

Keelan's eyes opened wide, shock and fear twisting his expression. His loose grip on the bundle in his arms tightened, the slightest noise of shifting trinkets catching his own ears. Fear even made his knees slacken, and had his back not been pressed to the barred window behind himself, he may have fallen to his knees. Determination and the cold, rough metal digging into his back kept him upright, though his hope was dwindling by the second with Zeke in the building.

How had he forgotten about Zeke?

Keelan had known there was a very real possibility that his master was around. That if they were caught they would have to deal with the bastard. Hell, he had even known that if he had to sacrifice himself Zeke would be there to dole out the punishment with cruel glee. But for whatever reason, he had thought of the man in such a distant manner that to know he was within reach was terrifying. What was worse, was that he heard another name, his mind instantly flashing to the hulking man mercilessly ramming his cock into Keelan's ass, sobs being ripped from between his gagged mouth with each thrust. Zeke and Bruce. They were both there. It had a lump of dread winding its way through Keelan's core, threatening to make the rest of his body as cold as a block of ice.

Despite that, he strained to hear what was going on. What the guards were saying. Fortunately his better judgement kept him in his hiding spot as he listened, his heart hammering in his chest. All he could hear was the distant murmur of talking. Only a sparse few clear words in the bunch.

One thing was for sure, though. There was no outburst from his master. No sudden declaration that his guards were useless and if they didn't find either slave running free, they were dead. That served to quell some of his nerves, but not all of them. Especially as he soon heard footsteps once again, each mingling to make it sound more as if there were a herd of men, and not a small handful.

How much longer could he hide behind the curtain? How much before he was discovered and punished?

Could Keelan even bear being back in that room again, knowing that he was almost free? That all it would have taken was to find Fae and be faster than anything chasing them. To run further so they weren't caught. He could bear the life of a runner, but he couldn't face another day in that room. Not without a purpose.

That was the truth of it all.

His mind was so fixated on the doom, that he hadn't heard footsteps coming his way. He hadn't realized how close they were to him and there was no way of telling who it was. Whether it was Fae or Zeke himself. The later of the two being the cleverest in the bunch downstairs, and the only one who would have thought to look behind the curtain. Had he been caught?

His body tensed, hand balling into a fist as the curtain pulled back so rapidly he didn't have time to think, let alone recognize who was on the other side. Fist already flying, he couldn't pull back even if he wanted to, landing squarely on the other man as he let instinct guide him.

[ obviously I liked that idea lol. I just hope Fae doesn't mind being punched... ]

Fae staggers back from surprise more than anything else, the knife nearly slipping from his grasp. There's not a lot of power behind the hit, but it's enough that his cheek is left throbbing, that he feels the warm run of blood touch his lip. He straightens himself a bit and his fingers smear just beneath his nose, golden eyes narrowing in confusion when they come back tipped with red. "Nice to see you, too," he murmurs, and then, suddenly, he chuckles. It's soft at first, but grows into genuine, surprised laughter, his gaze flicking up to Keelan. "I'll be honest - I didn't think you had it in you." He wipes his nose, brows furrowed but he's grinning, "Shit if that didn't stop you from gettin' it out of me, though."

Maybe he should be more angry, but he has a feeling he knows who that punch was meant for, and the thought makes him smile with a sliver of pride.

Also, he might deserve it, for the choice he'd nearly made mere moments ago.

Not wanting to waste their miraculous opportunity on jokes or pointless apologies, Fae grabs at Keelan's hand and pulls him from the window. "Tighten your fist a little more next time," he tells him easily, as if they aren't bolting back down the hallway and then the central staircase - literal steps from their goal.

First, shock spears through him, the light of recognition in his gaze once he saw it wasn't Zeke pulling the curtain back. Second, pain blooms vibrant in his hand, which he snapped back with a hiss. He shook his hand, like fanning it would make the ache go away.

It didn't.

"You should have warned me it was you," Keelan chastized, a little aggrivated despite Fae's laughter. It was good to hear, though. Instead of the deafaning silence and the sounds of heavy footsteps surely looking for them still. Or the rush of blood in his ears from the overwhelming fear of being caught.

His aggrivation melted the more he heard that laugh turn light, leaving him to sigh and flex his fingers, brows furrowed. A simple punch that did so little shouldn't have stung so much. How was he ever going to watch Fae's back, being as weak as he was? How could he ever fend off Zeke - or god forbid, Bruce - with how he was now?

One thing was for certain, though. Keelan wasn't going to apologize for trying to defend himself against someone that might have been an attacker. That had been a small triumph in itself, alongside trusting Fae to to take him and escape together. To apologize would ruin any sense of personal strength he'd gotten in the mere hours they'd known each other.

Soon, their feet were rapidly running down the stairs and once again Keelan pushed himself fast. He threw himself against the door at first, one hand cradling the bundle he still carried, the other tearing from Fae's grip to grab at the handle. A swift twist and a jerk, and--

"It's open!" He threw the door open wide, a cascade of moonlight falling on his face and for the briefest of moments he looked up to see the night's sky without bars for the first time in a long while. A smile slid across his features, and this time it was him grabbing Fae, pulling him out the door and down the dirt road to their freedom. Away from Zeke. Away from captivity. Away from pain and solitude.

They were free.

No matter how many times he feels it, the sudden rush of cool night air against his face will never get old to Fae. He shouldn't need to give reasons for wanting this, for why he has the right to feel and enjoy the same simple pleasures that anyone else does, but it's nice to have such a gentle reminder. You've done it. You're out again. This is where you belong.

Ah, but this time-

A light squeeze around his fingers not only reminds him that he isn't alone, but also that his his fingers should not be squeezed right now. Pain shreds through his hand and in the moment he bristles, his brow shiny with sweat, blood dripping from their clasped hands - and yet he lets a rare, true smile brighten his face as he turns to Keelan. "I told you," he laughs, and pulls their bloody hands up betweeen them, "don't underestimate me in a shitty situation."

He's burning to ask how Keelan feels. Fae remembers the trill of his first escape in crisp, vivid detail. Terror stitched through hope and exhilaration. It's an addictive feeling, one that Fae's very existence has become almost entirely focused on chasing. He wonders if Keelan regrets anything now that he's outside, or if the triumph of coming this far has only stoked the fire Fae set alight inside of him.

Still, despite their success, they aren't quite out of trouble yet. So Fae holds off questions in favor of pulling them further away from the estate. Even if those idiot guards have managed to keep up their ruse until now, he's certain they won't be out-thinking someone like Zeke for long. It's only a matter of time until he realizes what he's lost.

Or rather, what's been taken.

Being so late at night, the city is sparse - no crowd to disappear in - but they do have the advantage of darkness. He doesn't imagine Keelan knows the streets of Hightown particularly well, but luckily for them, Fae's past made certain he knew every crook and crevice intimately well. He dips them expertly in and out of alleyways, around the hot spill of lamplight and through the thick cover of shadows - a world he's all too familiar with.

The ease of his movements might seem suspicious to Keelan, but Fae hopes he'll attribute it to the fact that he's succeed in escape before. Getting too deep into his past can get messy, and he has no reason to allow the other man in that far regardless.

At the moment though, Keelan is his concern, as well as finding someplace safe so he can recover from his injuries. He has an idea in mind that he's guiding them towards, one that becomes sharply obvious when they enter the red light district and Fae is pulling them towards a building draped with rose-embroidered tapestries.

The Blooming Rose.

Hightown's brothel.

"I know people here," Fae explains, though he isn't looking at Keelan, too busy keeping his eyes out for bystanders as he trails along the side of the building, towards a back entrance. "They'll help," he does look back now, to tap Keelan's silk bag, "but they'll probably want something in return."

The ground is anything but even as they run, dirt sliding between his toes and sharp pebbles and rocks jabbing into his delicate feet. More than once he hissed in his pain, but the feeling that could happen in the first place while he was running away exhilarated him.

And the fact that Fae took the lead didn't surprise him. There was something about the pink haired man that told Keelan he wasn't always a slave, that misfortune had found him in such a position in the first place. Otherwise he probably wouldn't still have that savagery and strong will to take his freedom back for himself. That will had been beaten out of most slaves he met, including himself. For someone who had a broken will, it was satisfying enough to still be alive the next day. Keelan couldn't say he wasn't glad that Fae had been captured, though. It lead to his own freedom, and now that he was out he would do whatever it took to stay that way. He would likely stay by Fae's side as well, both in his debt and because he was grateful and didn't want to see him captured again.

But even still, he wasn't as unfamiliar with Hightown as it may seem. Sure, things had changed in the time he was locked in that room, but things could only change so much. Some buildings were easier to pick out than others - like the ones he'd been inside under Zeke's 'employment' - while others seemed more benign like the betting houses and taverns.

None of them made him want to stop running. Or let go of Fae's hand, the strength of knowing he wasn't alone making it easier not to throw rocks into windows on their way past.

The embroidered tapestry he knew, but it was something of a shock when they went toward the back entrance. Fortunately, any confusion he had was eased without having to ask.

"The silks are off limits," He said, holding his bundle. "At least until we get further out of town. It would be safer for the people you know, and for our wherabouts, if they weren't parading around in the things we stole."

Not that he was entirely enthusiastic about hiding in a brothel, but there was a bitter amusement in the fact that Zeke probably wouldn't think to look in a whorehouse for his escaped whores. It was likely the safest place they could be without leaving town immediately. That allowed him to step back, Fae taking the lead once again and the back entrance giving way with some prompting.

Loud boisterous voices and laughter carried through the doorway behind a tall, bucksome woman that Keelan couldn't make out her face in the dark.

"Oi what do ya-- FAE?!"

"Leona," Fae throws back, not sparing a moment for her surprise. "I'm lookin' for Cynthia."

Leona raises one arm against the doorframe, looking past Faerin to the slightly taller man trailing behind him. "Cynthia ain't gonna be pleased 'bout you comin' in th'back way."

"Last I heard, the back way's fair game if you can pay enough to come in."

She snorts, a grin cutting between her red lips before she waves her hand in a yeah, yeah manner and tells them to wait.

Fae exhales, keenly aware now of the way his knee and his hand are pulsing for attention. He's not sure where they can go if this doesn't work, but now isn't the time to think like that. He'll make it work.

Less than minutes later, another woman is blocking the doorway. Just like Leona, she looks a sneeze away from popping out of her dress, but with her grey-streaked hair piled neatly atop her head and all the jewelry hanging from her ears and wrapped around her throat, she gives off an air of higher authority. "Well, well," her blood-red lips stretch into an amused smile, "look who's stopped by for a visit after two years. None of your friends around to frighten off my patrons this time?" She cast a dubious glance to Keelan, and Fae is quick to step in front of him.

"Nice to see you too, Cynthia. You're looking much more haggish than usual. New wrinkles?" He smirks, eyes sliding off the side. "I'm surprised you could fit more in there."

"Charming as ever." Not bothered by his rudeness, Cynthia again allows her gaze to fall to Keelan, though this time they unabashedly rake him over. "And who's this?"

"He's off limits," Fae snaps, not appreciating the calculating look in her eyes. He didn't free Keelan just to have an old hag think she could put him under her thumb next. "We need a room."

"My rooms aren't for hiding."

"'Course not," Fae reaches down to his pants and rips out the jeweled pins he'd pierced through them earlier, "they're for fucking the gold right out of men's pockets, yeah?" He holds them out to her, golden eyes scrunched a bit over his grin. "Let us in and skip a step."

"Hm..." Cynthia's own eyes narrow, her arms folding over her chest as she seems to consider his proposal, but then suddenly snatches the pins out of his palm. "It'll do for now - friendly discount. But I'll be looking for more if you're planning to stay longer." She steps aside, opening the door further to allow them through. "You and off-limits can get yourselves washed upstairs."

To say that Keelan was aghast by Fae and Cynthia's exchange was probably putting it mildly. His mouth fell open, eyes wide. How could two people talk to each other like this and still remain amicable? Though he was fairly glad that Fae stepped in front of him, because the woman's look was nothing short of appraising and he knew that look. He didn't want to fall into her grasp any more than Fae did, but he was also no stranger to using his body as currency either. Fortunately, there was a small bag of trinkets to run through before he would have to resort to his former profession.

For his part, he stayed silent while they exchanged hands and words. This was Fae's friend(?) and he wasn't sure if his speaking would help or hurt, and he definitely didn't want to undermine what was going on. So, he followed Fae and Cynthia inside the brothel.

The first thing that hit Keelan's senses was the sickeningly sweet smell of perfume and incense to mask the musk of sex. It was a familiar scent that had him wrinkling his nose as he followed Fae upstairs. The first open door they found, they ducked into.

The second thing he noticed, was how quiet things were once they got into the room and closed the door. He could just barely make out the murmured sounds of merriment downstairs. The rooms were insulated well for discrete privacy. And looking around, it wasn't at all similar to his own. His had looked more like a torture chamber that someone slept in. Yes, the bed was big and cushy, the silks fine, and pillows fluffy, but it had been obvious what people went to his room for. This new space looked more like a bedroom and it had a calming effect on Keelan.

He now knew that they were as safe as could be, despite the mournful feeling of being indoors again after so long. The fact that he knew they could walk out of the building of their own free will was... satisfying.

Setting his small bundle on a chair, he moved to the window and peeked out into the night. The streets looked less ominous now than they had, and there were no familiar figures chasing them. It allowed him to smile, the light hitting his eyes as he turned toward Fae.

"Thank you," Keelan said smoothly. But upon seeing Fae, there laid a problem. Now they were in proper light and he wasn't following his pink haired savior, he saw just how badly injured he really was. "I hope you don't mind me saying this, but you look like hell. Sit down."

Keelan moved to a small basin and picked the pitcher up, dropping some water into the bowl. After a moment, he rang a piece of cloth out and moved toward the other man, taking his hand and dabbing the cloth over his busted knuckles as gently as he could. "But I do mean it. Thank you."

Keelan says sit but Fae is already far ahead of him, flopping onto the bed and inhaling deeply as he smothers his face into the silk sheets. He does look like hell, he feels like hell, his body is sore and his knuckles are throbbing but aside from the actual discomfort of it he can't say he minds the pain. It's a good kind of hurt. The kind that makes you feel like you've accomplished something.

Keelan thanks him, and the first time, Fae pretends not to hear. Not because he doesn't appreciate the acknowledgement, but he's just...not sure how to respond. You're welcome feels awkward, even just sitting behind his lips. He doesn't feel like he should be thanked for doing something that anyone should have done, especially when once or twice he might have considered leaving the other man behind.

Keelan didn't need to feel indebted to him. Fae just helped him take back what was already his to begin with.

Rolling onto his back, Fae lifts his hand over his face. He tries to flex his fingers and winces when his muscles sharply protest the movement. The chain really did a number on him - it's definitely fractured - but bashing that meathead's face in was worth it. His knee pulses in agreement.

The bed suddenly dips with Keelan's weight, pulling Fae's attention. He takes his hand and Fae flinches as he presses a cool cloth to his sore knuckles. Then he thanks him. Again. He can't ignore it this time. Warmth colors Fae's cheeks, both from the earnest gratitude and the gentle treatment. He swallows. "Yeah..." It's all he can think to say, and then he's turning his face away and tugging his hand - lightly, not nearly enough to rip it from Keelan's. "You don't need to do that, y'know," he mumbles.

"I don't," Keelan agreed, smiling at Fae. Before tonight, smiles were rare. Yet in the other man's presence it seemed hard not to. Where his life had been bleak and colorless before, now it was vivid and bright. Fae gave him that just by warming a part of Keelan that hadn't been touched in a long time. Just by amusing him and setting him free. "but I want to."

His grip is firm enough not to let Fae's hand go, continuing to dab at the man's knuckles to clean them. Fae's knuckles already looked red and angry, pulling the smile from Keelan's lips. The more intelligent part of him knew that after that fight in his old room, it would be hard to escape without any scratches. But the part of him that disliked violence wished that kind of sacrifice hadn't needed to be made in order to free them.

On a whim, he leaned down to brush his lips lightly against the injury in a gentle kiss. As if to apologize, perhaps.

"You freed me and injured yourself in the process, at least let me take care of your wounds." Keelan leg then swung over to straddle Fae's waist, his ass coming to rest in the other man's lap and hands on either side of his head. Leaning down, he smirked. "Besides, I believe I owe you and I'm willing to pay up once I know you won't bleed all over the place."

Keelan won't let go, and though it bothers him, Fae's too stubborn to admit it also feels nice. His fingers are much softer than Fae's, and the firm enclosure of Keelan's palm around his is warmer and more secure than anything Fae's used to. That's a strange thought, and Fae badly wants to suppress the sudden, nervous roiling in the pit of his stomach, but for the moment he lets it go. If only to placate Keelan (and maybe, quietly, because he's too tired to properly take care of himself right now). "Whatever," he mutters, head still turned away. "Do what you want."

Fae is relieved when a few moments later, Keelan releases him and moves to straddle his waist. The tension loosens in his shoulders as Keelan's weight settles in his lap, a small smirk curling Fae's lips as a flirty and mildly vulgar retort sits on his tongue - only to crumble suddenly when Keelan finishes speaking.

Fae knows Keelan is being playful. That's a good thing, really. It means he's comfortable and his spirits are high, and for that Fae is absolutely glad. But the persistent gratitude sets him on edge - not just because he doesn't feel like it's necessary, but also because he wonders if Keelan really understands how unnecessary it is.

"Hey," Fae calls, lids falling halfway over his golden eyes, brow furrowed. "Not that I don't want to, but..." His hands hover over Keelan's waist, but he seems hesitant to grab and settles for placing them lightly over his thighs instead. "It's yours now. Again. I mean," he snorts a small laugh, "your body never stops being yours, but what I'm saying..." His eyes flick up, catching Keelan's with a serious look. "It's not all you're good for, and you shouldn't feel like you have to use it to pay me back or nothin'."

After being used for other people's pleasure for so long, it's easy to forget it's not all you have to offer. Fae doesn't want him to think this is the trade-off - Keelan might not even realize he's thinking that way himself. The behavior can be so ingrained it's difficult to parse obligation from actual desire.

"If you wanna do that, I only wanna hear it's because I'm such a good lay. Amazing. Talented. Best fuck this side of Thedas." Fae grins with a little half-shrug, trying to lighten the mood with his confidence, but after a moment, he's serious again. He grabs Keelan's face, which is already hovering over him. It's not really meant to be intimate, it's more that he wants all of Keelan's attention on his next words - because Fae means them, "You don't owe me. We're equal."

If Keelan wants to sleep with him, Fae is fine with that. If Keelan wants to leave, Fae is fine with that too. All that matters to him is that it's Keelan's choice.

At first there was a note of confusion on Keelan's features, unsure of what Fae was getting at. Then, it sank in when he went into further elaboration, leaving him more amused than ever. That was something basic that Keelan should have understood, and he did. He was very much still under the mentality that he was good for little more than sex, but that wasn't why he was on Fae's lap. It wasn't even why he was saying he wanted to nurse the other man before they screwed again.

But neither was Fae being a good lay the reason, either.

With his face in Fae's hands, he couldn't shake his head, so instead his amusement softened his face. "I think you're misunderstanding me here."

Saying that, Keelan did appreciate that he had to be reminded. That there was a line drawn saying he wasn't trading one master for another. He wasn't just giving himself to Fae because he was indebted now, he was doing it because he promised already and because he didn't think there was any better way to celebrate freedom without being caught again. To fuck for pleasure and not be fucked for pleasure seemed perfect.

Shifting his weight to one arm, he lowered the other to slide his hand along the smooth skin of Fae's side, thumb pressing into the dips between lithe muscle. He turned his head in the other man's hands, teeth nipping at the fleshy bit of one of his palms, though his eyes never left the amber pair in front of him.

"As much as I appreciate you telling me that we're equal," He chuckled softly, not laughing at Fae but laughing because this was funny. "I told you I owe you because I promised that I would screw you back in that room when we were free. I want to be a man of my word." Keelan winked then, an amused smile on his lips. "But if you need an ego stroking so bad, I'll own up to the fact I'm having a hard time imagining my dick in you, and not riding yours right now."

Fae shifts awkwardly under Keelan's mouth, beneath the slow caress of his fingers, but a soft puff of relief does escape him as Keelan chuckles at his words.

His concern came from a genuine place, but somehow Keelan laughing off that concern is more reassuring than having it acknowledged. Fae loves to be right, but he would never want to be right about this. If Keelan has managed to keep what makes him Keelan, then that's something to admire. Keelan may struggle to throw a decent punch, but there are certainly more ways to show strength than through a fist.

"Ah," Fae smirks, cocking his head slightly, "you did promise." He doesn't think he's ever met someone so similar to him in this way, and the thought amuses him. How often do you have an argument to bottom? His shoulders shake with a soft chuckle as he draws his knees up, bumping them against Keelan's back. "Did my dick leave that deep of an impression after just one time?" He tilts his head up in a cocky manner, flattening his uninjured hand against his chest. "Fae, you've outdone yourself, you extraordinary pink bastard." His arms flop over his head as his eyes slip shut, a small grin curling his lips. "We should talk more about how great I am when we don't smell like blood and piss."

In Keelan's defense, bottoming was more familiar territory. He just didn't particularly fight against it nor try too hard to, given his job for the last years had been to seduce clientele and let them use him how they saw fit. It was in his blood now and came as second nature. Not something easily washed away in just a few short hours.

"Don't pat yourself on the back too hard," He shook his head, grabbing the cloth again and set about dabbing at the blood on Fae's face. "I wouldn't want you to dislocate your shoulder from it."

Sarcasm, pure and unfiltered. It felt so nice not to have to keep it, or the roll of his eyes, inside anymore. He wondered how much more would be a new, refreshing experience tonight. How much more in the coming future. That alone tugged the corners of his lips up. To think that one man won him over so thoroughly that not only had he changed his initial plan of brutality to compassion, but that man also gave him hope and freedom. Keelan wondered if Fae realized the kind of power he had over others, or if he was the only one affected this much.

"If we paid someone here, would they get us clothes from a merchant?" He asked, sidetracking himself with something that seemed necessary for their running further away from Zeke and his wrath. "We can't continue wearing these on the run. You only have pants, and a silk robe would draw too much attention."

Though Fae wasn't going to have those pants for long, given Keelan's shift off his lap and the gentle slip of fingers beneath the waistband. He began to tug and was thankful when the other man raised his hips to help, letting them fall to the floor in a heap. But instead of making any sexual advances, though his eyes did unabashedly catch an eye full of his dick, he set about cleaning his feet. Blood and piss was not attractive, he would have to agree with that, and bathing was the remedy.

Keelan wouldn't be the first one to feel that way about Fae. It's amazing how keeping your distance from people can give such a clear view into how they work. Fae was trained in the art of persuasion, he knows how to get what he wants. Lies. Manipulation. Sex. Violence. He knows exactly how to exert power over people - with the way he can box up his emotions, it makes doing so almost too easy.

His awkwardness comes when he isn't trying to work that power. There's a Fae that's likeable, that's carefully crafted to be so tooth-achingly sweet and compliant you feel bad for looking at him the wrong way, you give him anything he wants. He doesn't actually exist, and Keelan doesn't know that Fae. The Fae Keelan knows is vulgar, arrogant, and quick to throw a fist - he's made for keeping people at a distance. He's still attractive and will open his legs for nearly anything that shows interest, so any shallow contact is fine, but at his core, Fae is built for solitude.

He wouldn't understand how this Fae - the real Fae - has any kind of long-term appeal to someone.

So he never thinks in the long-term.

Which is probably why he hasn't thought about their clothes, and feels a little ridiculous when Keelan brings it up. Well, more ridiculous, since the man is cleaning his feet and Fae is literally struggling to keep his focus on the ceiling and not jerk his leg away.

An idea sparks though, and he sits up on his elbows to look down at Keelan. "That's not all we can pay for." He presses a hand to Keelan's shoulder to stop his cleaning, gaze flicking over to the sack they brought with them. "Show me what you've got in there."

He found himself following Fae's gaze to the silk bundle and wondered if they were on the same page. They could purchase weapons and food as well, but clothing seemed fairly important to get them into those shops themselves. But either way, Keelan wasn't naive enough to think they could leave right away. It would take days before the heat was cooled off enough for them to smuggle themselves out of town.

Before he moved, though, he finished cleaning Fae's feet. Keelan stood and reached for the silk bundle, tossing it on the bed beside the other man. Most of what was inside would require a smith's forge to melt down into coin - small gold trinkets, jeweled figurines, a pure gold cock ring. After the first few months, Zeke had started giving him more lavish decorations and tools to bolster the room. Keelan was sure that Zeke had been charging more the fancier his room got.

"There's probably a small fortune in there." Keelan shrugged. Nothing from that room held sentimental value.

Moving back to the basin, he soaked the cloth to loose any dirt and wrung it out for himself. A quick tug of the knot at his robe, and soon it was sliding back off of his shoulders, slipping onto the floor in a pile that he would bother washing later. For now, Keelan crossed the room again and sat on the edge of the bed, taking the cloth to the parts of himself that were dirtiest. Mainly his feet and calves, despising how the dirt felt between his toes.

"We might want to persuade a smith to melt them down before we start bartering. The coin will last us longer and we won't have to take what we can get from some shrewd businessman."

Again, Fae stops him, this time pulling the rag from Keelan's fingers entirely. He balls it up and tosses it across the room, where it splashes into the basin, and then he's turning to undo the silk knot and inspect what's been laid out for him.

"You think a lot," Fae muses, chuckling. It's not a bad thing - actually, he thinks with Keelan around to fill in the spaces Fae doesn't bother to even look at, he might find himself in fewer shitty situations. He's good at thinking on his feet, but he could stand to think things through once in a while.

Right now though, he's not thinking about anything as important as the list Keelan just drew out for them. His hand hurts. They're naked in a building that reeks of sex. Keelan still hasn't fucked him nor continued to postpone that promise with more flattery.

His needs are much more basic right now.

After sifting through the items, Fae decides on a small, egg-shaped trinket that glitters gold and rainbows when it's turned in the light. He tosses it up and catches it out of the air before hurrying over to the door.

From inside, Keelan can only see that he pokes his head out and calls a young girl over - not a courtesan, probably a hand-maiden - and after a small conversation and handing her the trinket, Fae comes back to Keelan spinning a bath token on his finger.

"Clothes are on the way," he proclaims, grinning. "We can think more later." He stops spinning the token by catching it between his first two fingers. "Right now, I'm in the mood for a bath."

"He--" The moment that Fae took the cloth from him and threw it across the room was the moment he gave a very, very dirty look. Did he not just complain of them smelling like piss and blood? The most logical step was to wash that off, hence the basin and cloth. Keelan's toes flexed, the miserable feeling of dirt and mud still between his toes making him feel a little gross and frustrated.

Keelan could argue that thinking was one of the few activities that kept him sane in his captivity, but at the moment he was so affronted he didn't feel like trading barbs. Apparently being dirty would be an adjustment for the future.

He was still giving Fae that dirty look, even as he watched the other man cross the room and spoke to someone outside the door. Even as he toyed with the bath token and grinned at him. However, with the proclamation of a bath, he finally understood. His features smoothed out and he looked far less agitated, even calm now. "I wasn't aware they had a bath in a place like this."

The irritation that scrunches Keelan's expression both surprises and amuses Fae. He didn't realize he hadn't seen such a face on him since he was first thrown into his room back at the manor. Not that he wants Keelan to be upset with him, not really, but he gets a kick out of needling people, and Keelan's dirty looks are as attractive to Fae as his smoldering ones. He wonders what else can make him pout like that.

"They've got bunches of baths. You can't really run a place like this without a bath." He chuckles, pulling Keelan from the bed. "And Big Boss just paid out a nice one for us."

After grabbing towels from a cherry-wood wardrobe in the room, Fae leads them down the hallway and deeper into the brothel house. The boisterous laughter and occasional bout of moaning seem dull and smothered the further they walk, until they've come to an elaborate double-door room that Fae presses the token into and twists to open.

Inside is a washroom that looks far too decorated to be called by such a simple name. Red silks hang on the walls from which protrude several low-lit lamps, giving the room a soft, warm glow. There are oils and bath salts layered alongside a narrow, but decently sized tub, already filled with steaming water. There are also wrappings and cleaners set aside on a counter for Fae's wound, as well as sponges for bathing.

"Fancy, huh? Too much for my tastes, but," Fae shrugs, pulling his towel from around his waist and tossing it aside. That egg bought them a luxury night, clothes, and two days of lodging, so for now they could rest easy. He picks up one of the sponges on his way to the tub, and then he's throwing a leg over the rim and sinking into the water. He grins as his arms hang over the edge and jerks his head in a motion for Keelan to join him. "Since you were so intent on bathing me, I thought I'd make it a group activity." He lifts the sponge. "I'm a fair guy."

Allowing himself to be pulled to his feet, he suddenly felt very grateful that Fae knew so much about the brothel they were staying at. It not only allowed them a safe haven, but was providing comforts he was familiar with. Probably the last ones he would experience for some time once they started making their way away from town.

"I kept clean mostly by basin," Keelan admitted, not particularly ashamed of this. "But every once in a while he would reward me by bringing in a metal tub to soak in."

Nevermind that each time he'd been 'rewarded' with a bath, it was for one of two reasons. To sleep with Zeke or clean himself after the man's parties. A shiver ran through him with the memory and he found himself walking a little closer to Fae, his protective presence soothing to Keelan's nerves.

As the doors to the washroom opened, he found himself practically floored with its opulence. Silks and finely decorated rooms he was used to, but this felt a little too decadent. Not particularly being a deterrent, he padded into the room and let the door shut behind himself, his own towel slipping from around his hips.

"More than fair," His lips curved, and soon he was slipping into the water opposite Fae, a long sigh following. "But I did bathe you twice, so this more than makes up for that." Keelan cheekily winked, though it might seem more dopey than intended. The water felt very nice, and was threatening to melt him.

It is dopey, and that's what makes Fae's shoulders shake with soft laughter. He shoves his sponge into the water, making sure the movement causes enough of a splash that stray droplets force Keelan to shut both eyes against the assault. "Are you sayin' that since you been there you haven't sat in a real bathtub?" He sits back, folding his legs up so his knees stick out of the water as his hand drags down one of Keelan's legs. "He must've been a real asshole, not to let you have even that. I've gotten assholes, too." His hand hooks beneath Keelan's ankle before he's pulling it from the water and settling the dirty foot he'd been making such a face about against his chest. "Maybe some of them weren't as bad if you look from the outside, but to me, they're all assholes. Every one." Fae snorts and snatches a soap bar from the sill by the tub, lathering the sponge before using his good hand to start scrubbing at Keelan's foot as he speaks. "Doesn't matter if they tear you up or never touch you at all, at the end of it, they still think you're property. They still think you're less than them. Tch."

Because he was an elf, a lot of his buyers would often hesitate to rough him up too much, even when his mouth would push them to the edge of patience. His value goes down if you fuck up his pretty face, discolor his unusual hair, or ruin the pointed tips of his ears. He never made things easy though, being as violent as he is, especially since elves have a reputation for usually being frail, delicate things - his aggression adds to his "rarity", which sounds nice on paper, but once they get a hold of him they understand why he's being sold for pennies now.

None of that matters to him though, there isn't a nuance to this type of thing and middle-ground is a seldom used word in Fae's vocabulary. Whether you're buying a person just to feed it and show it off to others or using it solely as a hole to shove your dick into - both situations are equally revolting to Fae, but at least you can get some fun out of one.

As he thinks, Fae absently washes the dirt from between Keelan's toes. Then, suddenly, his eyes flick up to meet Keelan's. "He seemed extra fuckin' proud to have you on a leash though. How'd you get mixed up with him anyway?"

A chuckle slipped from his lips, his hands coming up to shield himself from the splash. They weren't there in time, but that was fine. It was only water and a nice lightheartedness that seemed to tug at his chest and warm him through.

"A bath like this?" He asked, his fingers running along the porcelain side. "No."

Keelan's sentiment wasn't as black and white as Fae's, though. There were times where clients were gentle with him, wanting only his company and not the warmth of a willing hole. They were few and far between, and often it lead him to wonder if that was his master's scheduling to be nice to him, or they just paid coin for the sake of being in the room with someone easy on the eyes.

His toes spread easily for the other man to clean, any ticklishness teased out of him long ago. It was nice being bathed like this. Being taken care of, rather than having to do the work. He wondered if Fae would ever realize how grateful he was for the entire night and whatever would come in the future.

But then Fae is asking him how he came into Zeke's service, and he looks rather defeated. "Before, I had been a free man. My means weren't much, but even so I had a gambling problem. Zeke bought my debt and locked me away, forcing me to pay him back by servicing clients."

One day he may tell the whole story, but for now that one sufficed.

It's enough for Fae, who cocks his head with a small hum. "A gambling shopkeep, hm?" That's so mundane he can't help but smile. Fae doesn't waste his time lamenting about his past, but he'll still be the first to tell you it was rough. It was a lot harder than a lot of people have it. But he doesn't complain, because as traumatic or awful as his experiences may have been, they also equipped him with the skills he needs to fight, to take care of himself. He's been doing it for so long that being in the presence of someone who can't really do the same on the level that he can is...surreal.

Maybe he did help him more than he wants to give himself credit for, but he won't let Keelan deny that he's capable. Even more so than Fae, in a way, since Keelan had so much more to lose.

"It's a shitty thing, to feel like you can't get yourself out of your own problems," Fae murmurs, dragging the sponge down the length of Keelan's leg, "especially when you're the one who caused them." Then, Fae's smiling again, his hand stopping at the crease where Keelan's thigh meets his hip. "But I'd say your luck's on the rise now." He crawls forward, droplets of water raining from his body before he sinks down again, settled in Keelan's lap. It's a provocative position, but his expression isn't suggesting anything lewd - it's bright, interested. "What are you planning to do with it?"

"Don't say that." Keelan's expression twisted to seriousness, a hint of pain lurking in his golden eyes. Gambling... He had absolutely learned his lesson and knew the full extent of the consequences to his actions. If he could help it, which he was sure that he could, he wasn't about to make those mistakes again. Not when he knew it would cost him freedom. Especially if he knew it would cost them both freedom. Keelan had never been someone who would risk another person's safety for selfish gain. "Luck doesn't exist, only poor choices and good ones."

Despite his words, he was more than comfortable with Fae in his lap, shifting so that they could both relax freely. He even slid his arms around the other man easily, holding onto him with a light grip. And, perhaps, unabashedly his hands rested on his ass. Just because he wanted to.

"But if you're asking me what kind of choices I'll make, I hope good ones that benefit the both of us." Keelan tipped his head slightly to better look at Fae, his lips curving a fraction. It didn't slip his notice that Fae was asking him what he would do while escaping with a stranger. Though, admittedly, Fae had already started feeling less and less like a stranger before they even left the mansion.

Leaning forward a little, he placed his lips against Fae's throat, a gentle kiss before he trailed up to nibble on Fae's adam's apple. "I promise I won't be useless to you, though."

the tension t h i c c

but oh so delicious

mind? he's impressed (¬‿¬)

he'll be more impressed later when they make it to safety ^_~

1/2 _(ᐛ 」∠)_

2/2

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i've been thirsting over this tag ALL DAY

oh, this is great haha

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slow DOWN Keelan i'm gonna trick him into WOOING YOU

lmfao sorry but that is the best subject line. also sorry! he's definitely a thinker

don't be sorry i love his thinking (*´艸`*) ONE of them has to be lmao

haha true that

Keelan is so cute....please...this poor boy hasn't got to sit in a bathtub for years...

No, he's not cute. I'm just awful. >w>

IT'S BOTH (and i love it)

I'm glad you do~

don't be sorry i love his thinking (´艸`) ONE of them has to be lmao