(no subject)
Title: Maybe Not Just a Pet
Character/Pairing: Scud, Deacon Frost, OC unnamed vampire.
Word Count: 542
Rating: K+
Warnings: Master/slave themes.
Summary: On an excursion with his master, Scud meets someone...interesting.
Notes: I drank the kool aid. Can't help it.
Rules when he was taken along with his master to the various places he owned were always the same - don’t talk to anyone unless spoken to, keep your eyes down, and if someone tells you to do something you do it. They were easy to follow though not by choice. Scud much preferred the idea of being able to make his own choices, his own decisions when out. But that was never the case, not for a familiar like him.
He sighed and kept his eyes downcast where he sat in the corner of the club two spots over from his master. Once in a while, the door would open and he would get a little curious and glance up quickly to see who was entering. There hadn’t been anyone of interest or that he recognized from the ones that were in and out usually. That could have something to do with it being an unusual club, one of his mater’s friends - if vampires even had friends.
Hearing the soft sound of the door, Scud looked up and brushed his hair away from his face to catch a man entering. He looked…confident, different from the posture everyone else had. The man looked at the few of them sitting there, settling on Scud only for him to quickly look down and silently curse himself.
The footsteps of the man drew and he listened from his seat. This was the man who owned the place - Deacon Frost. Words of formalities were exchanged between Frost and his master before suddenly he heard himself addressed.
“Scud,” his master snapped, “are you listening?!”
Scud looked up, brow knotting with an apologetic look. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly.
The man, Frost, had his icy blue eyes set on him and he said, “I hope all your familiars don’t look so pitiful.” He shot a pointed look at Scud. “Cheer up a little. You look like someone killed your puppy.” His voice was smooth, accented like he was from maybe Boston or a nearby area. It was almost mesmerizing to Scud, much better than his master’s gravely and rough voice. “What’s your name?”
Clearing his throat, Scud told him, “Josh. But I go by Scud.”
“What, you don’t like your own name?”
He fell silent, not really wanting to explain that he didn’t like his name because of the way his master or his master’s friends used it. Scud almost shivered, but held the tremor back. Apparently, his answer didn’t come fast enough because Deacon was asking him if he swallowed his tongue. “My name’s fine,” he answered finally. “Scud is just…something I picked up.”
Deacon nodded, eyes looking Scud over once before going back to conversation with his master. They talked for a short time until the two shook hands and his master was telling Scud, along with the other familiar with, to get up. They were leaving. Scud got to his feet, as requested; and looked at Deacon one last time. A smile was flashed at him as he started to follow the others and even though he could see the man’s fangs, it made him feel…appreciated - not just like some pet as he was usually treated.
Something in him hoped he would see this vampire again.
Character/Pairing: Scud, Deacon Frost, OC unnamed vampire.
Word Count: 542
Rating: K+
Warnings: Master/slave themes.
Summary: On an excursion with his master, Scud meets someone...interesting.
Notes: I drank the kool aid. Can't help it.
Rules when he was taken along with his master to the various places he owned were always the same - don’t talk to anyone unless spoken to, keep your eyes down, and if someone tells you to do something you do it. They were easy to follow though not by choice. Scud much preferred the idea of being able to make his own choices, his own decisions when out. But that was never the case, not for a familiar like him.
He sighed and kept his eyes downcast where he sat in the corner of the club two spots over from his master. Once in a while, the door would open and he would get a little curious and glance up quickly to see who was entering. There hadn’t been anyone of interest or that he recognized from the ones that were in and out usually. That could have something to do with it being an unusual club, one of his mater’s friends - if vampires even had friends.
Hearing the soft sound of the door, Scud looked up and brushed his hair away from his face to catch a man entering. He looked…confident, different from the posture everyone else had. The man looked at the few of them sitting there, settling on Scud only for him to quickly look down and silently curse himself.
The footsteps of the man drew and he listened from his seat. This was the man who owned the place - Deacon Frost. Words of formalities were exchanged between Frost and his master before suddenly he heard himself addressed.
“Scud,” his master snapped, “are you listening?!”
Scud looked up, brow knotting with an apologetic look. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly.
The man, Frost, had his icy blue eyes set on him and he said, “I hope all your familiars don’t look so pitiful.” He shot a pointed look at Scud. “Cheer up a little. You look like someone killed your puppy.” His voice was smooth, accented like he was from maybe Boston or a nearby area. It was almost mesmerizing to Scud, much better than his master’s gravely and rough voice. “What’s your name?”
Clearing his throat, Scud told him, “Josh. But I go by Scud.”
“What, you don’t like your own name?”
He fell silent, not really wanting to explain that he didn’t like his name because of the way his master or his master’s friends used it. Scud almost shivered, but held the tremor back. Apparently, his answer didn’t come fast enough because Deacon was asking him if he swallowed his tongue. “My name’s fine,” he answered finally. “Scud is just…something I picked up.”
Deacon nodded, eyes looking Scud over once before going back to conversation with his master. They talked for a short time until the two shook hands and his master was telling Scud, along with the other familiar with, to get up. They were leaving. Scud got to his feet, as requested; and looked at Deacon one last time. A smile was flashed at him as he started to follow the others and even though he could see the man’s fangs, it made him feel…appreciated - not just like some pet as he was usually treated.
Something in him hoped he would see this vampire again.