"Spoon full of sugar to the medicine"

Mar 10, 2012 04:30

Title: Spoon full of sugar to the medicine
Fandom: X-Men: First Class
Pairing: None
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen
Rating: PG (for the mentions of violence)
Word Count: 572
Warnings: None
Summary: At least the man didn't look like he would enjoy using a whip

Disclaimer: Don't own. Writing for fun, not profit.
Author's note: The title taken from "Slaves" by Kano, which has no link whatsoever to the story actually. *SOBS* The longer I don't sleep the shorter these get and the more senseless the titles get. I'm sorry, I'll go to bed now. Written for the au_bingofor the prompt "Slavery". Additionally it also fills my prompts "Collars" down at the Kink Lottery at bdsm_fandom


He tugs at his collar ineffectively. It has no metal in it; there is no use in trying to get it off. And still he does. Erik is a fighter. He wouldn’t survive for this long if he wasn’t. He doesn’t care what the other slaves are saying; he is not going to give up.

Slaves.

That’s what he is now, a slave. All because someone became too greedy for the lands of his people.

He watched soldiers slay his father and then his mother when she tried to protect him. His village was burnt to the ground and all the youth gathered in a square. To be tied and transported, like animals, to the city.

It took them six broken collars before they figured to stop using metal on him.

Now he doesn’t have a choice, but stand, almost naked, helpless to gaze of people going around the marketplace. He hopes he won’t be bought. He hopes he will.

It’s hard to decide when your alternatives aren’t very different from each other. What he really wants is to go back in time and have family and home again. He hopes that at least his new master won’t be fond of whips. The merchant selling them is.

There is a man standing near the platform, eying Erik with interest. He has short brown hair and there is something in his face that sends shivers down Erik’s spine. God, he really hopes he won’t be bought.

His rope is yanked and he almost falls from the surprise before regaining his balance. The man in the crowd looks displeased and Erik wonders what’s going on.

He’s been bought. He’s not sure if he’s happy about it.

The man waiting for him doesn’t look like someone who would use whips. He’s shorter than Erik, even if he looks older, but then his Mama always repeated that Erik was tall for his age. His new owner has a head full of brown locks, curving gently around man’s ears and Erik has to blink to get the image out of his head. He doesn’t know why he noticed it.

He is supposed to be bowed, but he forgot, unused to it as he is. His owner doesn’t seem to mind too much, even if the merchant is furiously hissing at Erik to stop looking the man in the eye.

He can’t. He’s never seen such a vibrant shade of blue; these eyes seem to be almost glowing. The man smiles as if he picked on Erik’s ridiculous thoughts and dismissed the seller with a flick of his wrist.

Erik can feel his binds falling away and he isn’t quick enough to curb the reflex to massage his wrists. The man doesn’t seem to mind. Even more, he takes Erik’s wrist in his hand and starts caressing the abusing skin himself.

“We’ll put some aloe oil on this when we get home.” He says and Erik relaxes his shoulders, irrationally soothed by the soft baritone. “What is your name?”

No one asked his name till now.

“Erik.”

“Hello, Erik. My name is Charles and from now on, you’re mine. I’ll take good care of you if you’ll take care of me.”

Erik can’t find it in himself to be angry at this. He could do much worse. He nods and follows Charles to the carriage that will take them to the man’s home.

Now also his, he supposes.

fandom: x-men, form: fanfiction, challenge: lottery - kink, challenge: bingo - au

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