[ Basch was normally so careful to respect Sylvain's autonomy, and the skittishness he knew the other could have in being claimed too directly. Maybe especially because those rules were so often bent for Basch; he didn't want to take that vulnerability for granted.
But when he spots the man -- his lover -- napping peacefully in the shade, he can't help the swell of pride and affection. Or the jealousy, louder than it's ever been, that others on this beach have a claim to Sylvain, that they may be the one he wakes up to and goes home with. Not today. Maybe not ever. Maybe he shouldn't share anymore.
He settles beside him in the shade, watching, daydreaming, until sleep take him too.
He doesn't remember the transition to this place, or the beach he's left behind, nor is his mind hazy. He'd come here for a reason, this port that deals in men and secrets and darkness. A rumor had brought him, a series of gambles and payments well-played and carefully executed building up to this.
Sylvain was his. Legally, indefinitely. Soon to be bodily as well. He forces himself to make rounds while he waits for the preparations, having a celebratory drink at the tavern, where men congratulate him on his purchase, and sailors whisper about the why of it. It isn't Basch's typical style, though they know he spent some time in bondage in his younger years. A fantasy? And attraction? An old grudge?
All of them.
He sees to the innkeeper then, and his men. He is not to be disturbed until the following evening, and he keeps only his best servants on for needs like food and errands. And sends one out to make purchases. Outfits, to dress the new pet in. It will take time to break him in, and he will not leave Basch's side until he is good and trained.
With enough time passed, he finally ascends to the airy third floor residence. His own clothing has been selected for power, contrast: ceremonial regalia, a flaring cloak, belts and jewelry, and of course loudly clicking heels. His chest, though, is bare near to the navel.
He's sure Sylvain hears him before he arrives. Still, he takes his time opening the door, letting his eyes sweep over his prize as he enters.
The drug is unfortunate, but necessary. It eased his own time, so there is some little kindness in it. But he also doesn't want his toy broken today, not that way anyway. Otherwise, the man is beautiful, stubborn and defiant even like this. What little clothing he wears is more scandalous than if he'd been naked. ]
I see you've settled in nicely already.
[ He closes the door behind him, making it clear he is locking the heavy wooden door. ]
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2024-06-16 07:13 pm (UTC)But when he spots the man -- his lover -- napping peacefully in the shade, he can't help the swell of pride and affection. Or the jealousy, louder than it's ever been, that others on this beach have a claim to Sylvain, that they may be the one he wakes up to and goes home with. Not today. Maybe not ever. Maybe he shouldn't share anymore.
He settles beside him in the shade, watching, daydreaming, until sleep take him too.
He doesn't remember the transition to this place, or the beach he's left behind, nor is his mind hazy. He'd come here for a reason, this port that deals in men and secrets and darkness. A rumor had brought him, a series of gambles and payments well-played and carefully executed building up to this.
Sylvain was his. Legally, indefinitely. Soon to be bodily as well. He forces himself to make rounds while he waits for the preparations, having a celebratory drink at the tavern, where men congratulate him on his purchase, and sailors whisper about the why of it. It isn't Basch's typical style, though they know he spent some time in bondage in his younger years. A fantasy? And attraction? An old grudge?
All of them.
He sees to the innkeeper then, and his men. He is not to be disturbed until the following evening, and he keeps only his best servants on for needs like food and errands. And sends one out to make purchases. Outfits, to dress the new pet in. It will take time to break him in, and he will not leave Basch's side until he is good and trained.
With enough time passed, he finally ascends to the airy third floor residence. His own clothing has been selected for power, contrast: ceremonial regalia, a flaring cloak, belts and jewelry, and of course loudly clicking heels. His chest, though, is bare near to the navel.
He's sure Sylvain hears him before he arrives. Still, he takes his time opening the door, letting his eyes sweep over his prize as he enters.
The drug is unfortunate, but necessary. It eased his own time, so there is some little kindness in it. But he also doesn't want his toy broken today, not that way anyway. Otherwise, the man is beautiful, stubborn and defiant even like this. What little clothing he wears is more scandalous than if he'd been naked. ]
I see you've settled in nicely already.
[ He closes the door behind him, making it clear he is locking the heavy wooden door. ]