Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Crowley glared at him as he trudged into the kitchen, looked longingly at their well-stocked liquor selection, and made a mostly straight beeline for the coffee maker with fresh coffee.

Benny sipped his own mug of coffee, smiling into it as he read through the newspaper at the island counter. He didn’t look at his partner as the shorter man carried his mug and the entire pot of coffee over to the island and sat in his chair opposite him.

Crowley sipped his coffee and glared over the rim at Benny who ignored him and just turned the page of the paper.

Crowley didn’t speak until he was halfway through his second cup of coffee, although the glare only somewhat abated. “What is the point of having a live-in partner if they leave the bed cold at hellish hours of the morning?”

“Good morning to you too, cher.” he said, smiling a little again.

“The sun wasn’t even up yet.”

“It was, actually.”

“No one can prove that, because everyone was asleep.” he hissed.

Benny turned the page and finished his mug of coffee. “I wasn’t.”

Crowley looked murderous.

He set his mug down and closed the newspaper, shifting to look at his husband. “i’ve stayed in bed with you often enough to know it doesn’t make a difference to how you sleep, cher.” he pointed out.

“I woke up alone.” he muttered.

“You could wake up with me.”

He looked insulted by the mere suggestion.

Benny laughed a little.

“You don’t even set an alarm!” he complained.

“No. I don’t.” he reached for the coffee pot.

Crowley glared again, wrapping an arm around it.

Benny raised an eyebrow, and Crowley reluctantly let go, pushing it towards him. He filled his mug and got up. “There’s an estate sale downtown – I’ll be going later.”

On his third cup of coffee, Crowley was starting to wake up. “Are you?”

He nodded. “They have some...exquisite pieces in the collection – should take up that wall nicely.”

Crowley looked at the wall in the living room that Benny had designated the nautical wall. There were collections of ropes, glass, bottles, instruments, antiques and reproductions… “Wonderful. More eyesores.”

“You sure are a peach in the morning, ain’t you cher.” he teased, reaching over to take Crowley’s hand.

He glared at him and finished his third cup of coffee, setting the mug aside. “You proposed.” he retorted.

“But I didn’t propose to morning you, cher.”

Crowley snorted at that, amused. “Fine. Yes, honey – have fun with your abominable decorating skills.”

“Your decorating skills are ‘black’ and ‘whiskey’.”

“and that is why I hire people, Benny.”

“so you say.”

Crowley rolled his eyes. “where is breakfast?”

“Pushy this morning, aren’t we.” he got up.

“someone ought to earn the money he will undoubtedly be spending later.” he muttered, pouring the rest of the coffee into his mug and leaning onto the counter to watch his husband cook.

“Thought I earned that last night, cher.” he grabbed his apron and tied it on, smirking at Crowley.

“You were bossy.”

“Mmm, yes. Because you prefer the submissive ones.”

Crowley looked profoundly disgusted. “I am getting dressed.” he announced, getting up and stomping out of the kitchen.

Benny just laughed, turning on the stove.

Estate sales were...interesting, to say the least. One tended to meet a specific group of people when one attended them regularly – especially when attending for certain collectibles and not just for vague antique store reasons. So when Benny showed up at the building, he met a few acquaintances, said hello, and moved on. He gave his information to the clerk, got his number, and went to go wait in the auction room.

“Benjamin… Fancy seeing you here.”

He sighed. “Miss Talbot. Never quite sure whether or not it’s a pleasure to see you.” he got up and held his hand out to the beta.

She smirked, the smile not quite reaching her eyes. “Oh relax – I’m not here for your precious nautical things this time. I’ve been sent to procure lot 666.”

“Ironic number.” he commented.

Her smile widened. “Sold my soul to the devil a long time ago – might as well win him back in an auction.” she joked.

“What’s your budget, cher?” he asked curiously.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” she slid a hand into the coat of her jacket. “Have you seen the wares?”

He shrugged, sitting back down. “I know what I’m here for – not really interested in seeing what else was collected.”

“Care to share?”

He smiled back with one of his own that didn’t reach his own eyes. “Think I keep my cards close to my chest, don’t you reckon.”

“Have it your way.” she purred before spinning on her heel to leave. He watched her leave before cracking his neck, sliding his peacoat off his arms and hanging it off the back of his chair as he settled in to wait.

Auctions were boring until there was something to be invested in. People bid, some things went cheaper than he thought they would, and others went for much higher rates that he would have ever paid even if Crowley wouldn’t skin him for wasting the money when he got home. He fanned himself with his pamphlet and watched the people as they bid for dish sets and furniture and paintings.

Bela looked as uninterested as he did, but he knew hers was an act. She was never unaware – never dissociated from whatever situation she found herself in. He didn’t envy her whatever had happened to train that vigilance into her. He had instincts too, sure – but being a civilian for so long had let them grown rather soft.

For instance, she caught the movement near the front of the room before he did. She had laser focused in on something near the stage before he even heard the crack of someone faceplanting into something hard and unyeilding.

Like the steps of the dias.

Focused on something like the barely human figure with its arms bound immoveably behind its back, as it struggled to regain it’s feet while the man holding the leash tried to drag him up by the collar around its neck.

“Lot 666 – perhaps in need of some...training, but still with many years of use left in it.” the auctioneer promised dryly as the man holding the leash finally managed to drag the slave to its feet and pull it up to the center of the stage at the front of the room.

Everything snapped back into focus suddenly, and Benny suddenly regretted not reading the entire list of things to be sold at this auction.

He opened the pamphlet a little too roughly, tearing it halfway down the spine as he flipped through pages until he found the description he wanted. Lot 666: male omega, five feet ten inches tall, barren, trained pleasure slave, thirty-six years old…

He looked back up at the naked man trembling in the spotlight. He was staring at a fixed point on the floor, the blood pouring from his mouth and nose doing nothing to hide the ugly and extensive scars and barely healed bruises covering every square inch of his emaciated body. Benny watched the blood drip down his chest, over his thigh, and nearly to his knee before he realised people were actually bidding on this thing – this man, he corrected himself. People were looking at this broken, terrified human and were trying to buy him.

He raised his hand before he realised it, feeling like he was standing on the deck of a sailboat in the middle of the deep ocean and not seated in a luxurious seat watching the scene from outside his body.

There was a harpoon here. There were antique cat of nine tails.

He saw whip marks on the slave’s body and knew he didn’t have a choice. It wasn’t like he would be able to touch those ‘nautical’ acquisitions anyway after this. He had to win the slave.

Had to outbid Bela Talbot.

He felt his stomach instantly tie itself into knots.

Fuck.

He looked at the slave who was now watching the blood flow down his own calf with terror as it neared the floor and made up his mind: he would win, no matter what.

Crowley was a damned good lawyer – if he had to kidnap the poor man, his husband would get him off, he told himself, raising his hand again.

He didn’t even know where the bidding had reached. He prayed to a heaven he didn’t believe in that it wasn’t too far out of his unspoken allowance for these sales. He watched Bela raise her hand with a vicious look in his direction and tried to will some empathy in her direction – tried to ask her to just let h im have this one. She didn’t need whatever money she was promised, he knew that. Everyone knew that. Everyone at these things knew that if Bela Talbot wanted an item, she had the money to get it.

But he needed this one, this one time.

He raised his hand again.

“Going, going….”

he held his breath.

“Gone! Congratulations – I hear this particular unit is extremely well broken in.” the auctioneer said suggestively.

He grit his teeth and ignored him, twisting to look sharply at Bela.

She met his eyes, her expression unreadable. Then she looked away, and the spell was broken.

He looked back, watching as the – as his – omega was jerked off the stage and out of sight through a side door.

He heard noise pick up again as the auction continued, and he robotically grabbed his coat and got to his feet. He carefully moved out of his row of seats, walked down the side of the room and made his way blindly towards the processing clerk. Glancing back as the door shut, he realised Bela was already gone too.

The door slammed shut and everything seemed to click back into focus again.

The clerk looked up with a pleasant smile. “Did you find what you were looking for, Mr. Lafitte?”

“I made a purchase.” he said flatly.

“Oh, how wonderful. I am sure you will enjoy it.” Her smile widened as she looked him up in her computers. “Lot 666?” she glanced up to confirm.

He grit his teeth. The man had a name, had a past, probably had a family. He wanted to insist upon that, but he just nodded.

“I do apologise on behalf of the auction house for the state he is in.” she wasn’t lookin at him, running his account as she finalised the sale. “There was no will or relatives, so everything defaulted to the state.” she chatted. “Apparently he was found in a secret room nearly a week after his owner died!” she pulled the printed receipt out of her desk and handed it to him with a cheerful smile. “The rest of his paperwork will be in his crate – do have a good day!”

He took the receipt a little rougher than necessary and strode off towards the claiming area.

There were boxes, and packing supplies, and employees, and noise and all it did was further irritate him. He looked around, and reached out to grab the arm of a passing employee.

She looked up, confused and annoyed. “Yeah? You’re in the wrong place, whatever you want.”

“I am here for lo- for the omega.” he let go of her.

“what, now?” she wrinkled her nose. “The auction isn’t even over, and I’m not sure it’s been sedated-”

He grit his teeth and she paled.

“Uh. Right. Yeah. Sir. Um...right this way.” she stammered, scurrying off through the staging room.

He strode after her, trying to get control of himself as the employees cleared a path for them. He took a deep breath, trying to remind himself of how terrified the omega would be.

That emphatically did not work and he resolved to just fix it later when they were out of here, preferably after clothes and medical treatment.

“...uh. Sir?” the girl says hesitantly, and he barely avoids walking into her. “If...if you can just show me the receipt-”

He shoved it at her, looking around for the omega.

She glanced over it perfunctorily and handed it back, barely shaking. “Okay, yeah – all yours. Uh...do you need help transporting him?”

“No. Where is he?”

She looked sideways at him and gestured at the large dog crate in the corner of the room.

He looked for the omega, and it was only when he didn’t see anyone that he realised with horror that the man was in the crate. “Excuse me?” he said dangerously.

“Uh – state policy. It’s what he came in.” she rushed to say, stepping back from him, and going on about the slave being sedated and no trouble and barely any weight at all currently and he tuned her out.

The crate was made for a large dog sure, and there were air holes along the top; but the omega was a tall, human, man. Even as emaciated as he was, there was no way he fit comfortably in that box.

The girl fell silent, and he realised he had snapped that part out loud as he strode forward and started unclasping the top of the crate. He lifted the top off, and looked inside.

The man looked even worse up close. His back was layered with years of whip scars, and some were less than two weeks old and barely healing. He was covered in bruises from canes and fists, and there were impressions from the top of the crate pressing into his back. Benny could see tiny tremors running through his body, and realised he couldn’t smell him. He turned sharply to the girl. “Where is his scent?”

She swallowed. “Suppressed it for the auction – he can’t control it.” she said quickly.

He grit his teeth and turned back to the man in the crate. Even though the crate was open, the omega hadn’t moved. He breathed in slowly, a little disquieted that even though the omega was terrified, he couldn’t smell him. “I’ve got it from here – I know how to get out.” he told her tightly, crouching down by the crate. “hey, cher. Know you don’t have much reason to trust me but...you’re gonna be safe now, cher.” he said as soothingly as he could. He realised the omega was still naked, and quickly pulled his coat off. “Come on, cher. Let’s sit up now – ain’t that uncomfortable folded up like that?”

there wasn’t any movement for a moment, and he wondered if the omega’s hearing had been a victim of the abuse he had obviously suffered; but then the slave slowly uncurls.

Benny took a moment to actually look at his new charge. Even knowing the omega was only a few years younger than him, he had somehow decided he was barely an adult from how small he looked. Looking at the face hidden under hair that was probably meant to be a light and curly blonde, but just looked lank and dead, he was hit with the realisation that this man was nearly middle age. He kept his eyes firmly on the ground, trying to lick up the blood still trickling from his mouth so it didn’t make a mess. He swayed a little as he sat up, his mouth hanging open from the sedative. His skeletal arms were pinned behind his back in a position that made Benny wince in sympathetic pain, but he didn’t make a move of discomfort.

Perhaps too late, he abruptly reached forward and unclipped the restraint that held his permanent cuffs bound behind his back. He tossed the simple clip aside like the garbage it was and draped the coat around the omega’s shoulders. “Better, cher?”

The omega tried in vain to swallow a mouthful of blood, but the red saliva just dripped out of his mouth onto his chest. Still keeping his eyes lowered as far as he could, he reached forward with hands that trembled more violently than the rest of him.

Benny waited in confusion, hopeful that the omega was more lucid than he appeared, until the shaking hands landed on his chest and stroked suggestively down his body until they reached his fly- “Well no. That won’t do, cher. Ain’t gonna want none of that.”

The man froze, and then slowly folded his hands back behind his back. “As you wish, Master.” he got out, his rough voice making his accent unrecogniseable.

“Don’t call me that, cher – just Benny will do.” he told him as gently as he could to hide his disgust.

A shudder ran through his body, and he nodded as quickly as he could. “Yes, sir- Benny. Yes, Benny.” he stammered, paling.

“Can you stand, cherie?”

He struggled to get to his feet immediately, to obey; and just as quickly faceplanted into Benny’s chest, leaving a mouthful of blood all over his white Henley.

Benny looked down and nodded, coming to a decision. “You shouldn’t still be bleeding, cher – I’ll have to get a doctor to look at you.” he said conversationally, looking through the crate and grabbing the thick folder in a sleeve on the outside. He straightened the omega and looked him over.

The omega had his eyes squeezed shut, and Benny assumed that the sedative was taking hold.

“Alright, cher. Gonna take you home – I’m just gonna carry you.” he warned, gathering the unresisting, and not much younger man into his arms and lifted him. He shifted him in his arms, and then started striding out of the auction house.

Chapter Text

He didn’t really remember the event that started this all.

That wasn’t true – he remembered that event. Sometimes, whatever Master had his papers would remind him of it; make him watch the news and thank them for taking care of him and reminding him of his place. No, he remembered that just fine. What he didn’t remembered was how he got locked up on the table with the dead body slumped over him.

Of course, he wasn’t lucky enough to forget remembering that either.

He just wanted to remember the sound of the bastard Kubrick dying. He wanted to remember the sound of him choking and dying and hopefully being in agony. But no such luck. All he remembered when the IV ran out was coming back to awareness in pain, cuffed to the sterile table, and with that waste of life cold and stiff on top of him and inside of him. Restrained as he was, he hadn’t even been able to dislodge him.

He heard later at what was basically a vet’s A&E that Kubrick had been dead for a week when they were found. He knew that it was two days after he woke up when some long dormant survival instinct made him start screaming for help - he also knew that no one had heard him.

No one ever heard him.

No one had even asked how he was. No, he had been left on the table for another day after Kubrick was removed before a clean up crew came to evaluate the house and he was finally transported to a medical office. No one had stopped to think that he had literally been fucked by a dead man, and was nearly dead with dehydration when he was released, and he hated them. He wanted to rip them to pieces with his teeth.

Instead, he folded himself to the ground, folded his hands behind his back, and waited for instructions.

And he hated himself for it.

Not that it mattered – nothing he thought mattered.

The people who perfunctorily treated his dehydration and starvation by just hooking him up to yet another IV and leaving him in a kennel talked over his head. They pumped him full of a suppressent and a sedative, folded him into a crate, and put him in the back of a truck to be transported to the sale of Kubrick’s belongings. Because that’s all he was – a belonging.

Part of him felt desperately glad that he wasn’t just willed away. There was no family who wanted him, maybe no one would want him.

Of course, that would depend on whether or not Gordon was back in town.

He begged the universe that that particularly sadistic bugger was occupied somewhere on the opposite side of the fucking world.

Struggling to focus through the drugs and scan the audience, he lost his footing as his temporary keeper jerked him along up to the stage. He dragged in a breath and instinctively tried to put his hands out to catch himself. His wrists with his welded shut cuffs that no one had bothered to even treat jerked painfully against each other, and he face planted directly into the wooden edge of the dais. His mouth and throat filled with blood and he choked for a moment. He felt the leather collar drag up against his throat, cutting off what little air he could get around the blood, and he started to panic. His bare feet scrambled against the soft rug as he struggled to get to his feet before he passed out, thoughts of who was in the audience long forgotten.

He somehow managed to get to his feet, his air cut off for several more moments as he teetered on his tip toes before his keeper took pity on him and released the pressure. He dragged in a sobbing breath, stumbling after him and curling in on himself in the center of the stage. At first, out of habit, he went to fold himself to the floor; but the yank on his collar from his keeper made him freeze in place.

With the spotlight on him, he couldn’t see the audience even if he dared raise his gaze; so he focused on the expensive rug that he had tripped on. He heard the auctioneer say something, heard some polite laughs among the audience, and he tried to focus on the designs in the rug. He could smell several Alphas in the audience, some Betas and absolutely no Omegas. No one who would stand up for him even if it would work. He felt something trickling down his chest, and stopped breathing as he watched blood flowing slowly but surely toward the floor. The beautiful, expensive floor. The floor – he jerked his gaze back to the rug, desperately searching it. He finally managed to breathe again when he didn’t see any bloodstains left behind by his mistake. He looked back at the blood now flowing down his thigh; and he tried to clamp his mouth shut to stop the flow. He swallowed a mouthful of blood, feeling his stomach heave; and suddenly he was being yanked away again.

Pathetically grateful to not be made to make a mess on the floor, he hurried after his keeper and to the much less expensive floors of the storage room. It wasn’t until they reached the back corner where his transport crate was that it sank in that the reason he was spared was because he had been sold. Again. Someone owned him.

He started shaking again. It felt like he was always shaking. He wondered if his new owner would want him to control his scents, or would enjoy his uncontrollable fear and despair. He wondered with a sinking feeling in his empty stomach if whoever they were would just keep him drugged on suppressants to remove the choice from him entirely.

It wasn’t like his biology was good for anything anymore anyway, he thought bitterly.

His head was yanked to the side and he flinched, startled. He felt the familiar pinch of an injection and hated himself for how relieved he was for the familiarity. At least he wouldn’t ever have to worry about knowing how to get away from wherever he would be kept. At least he wouldn’t be awake for the initial inspection.

When the needle was pulled free and his head was released, he docilely stepped into the crate, folding himself down into it and pressing his forehead to the floor. He couldn’t help tensing as his keeper lifted the top of the crate and settled it down over him, clamping it shut. He squeezed his eyes shut, begging the sedative to work faster than his claustrophobia was. The cover held him immobile in the crate, and he could hear his breath rasping in his ears.

He tried to calm himself down, tried to dissociate himself enough to not fruitlessly panic. The last thing he wanted to do was shame his new owner and start his new existence with a punishment. He tried to convince himself that he could be good – that it was possible to be good. That he could have at least a couple more weeks to heal and recover before he was put through his paces.

He nearly convinced himself when the cover unlocked and he could breath in fully for the first time since he had been pressed inside.

He immediately scented a furious Alpha standing over him, and he froze instinctively. He heard the people standing over him exchange words and he tried to focus, tried to will the sedative to hold off a little longer. He wanted to make a good impression – wanted a few weeks to rest before he started making mistakes again. The Alpha suddenly crouched down beside the crate and he struggled to remember how to breathe.

He heard the Alpha talk in a gentle voice and tried to scent anyone nearby that he was talking to. Maybe he was a gift for a young woman? Some shy Alpha woman who needed a submissive Omega to live up to expectations?

He ruthlessly murdered that faint hope and tried to focus on the voice. He flinched again when he felt fabric – rough but blessedly warm fabric – settle over his shoulders and back. He grit his teeth and ordered himself to focus, and the gentle voice abruptly translated in his head: “-sit up now – ain’t that uncomfortable folded up like that?”

He froze, trying to listen for anyone else moving. A child maybe? This Alpha needed a caregiver for an orphan child and only saw his designation?

No one moved and no one spoke and his hope died in confusion. The Alpha’s scent changed and he flinched, carefully uncurling himself as he realised the man – his Master – must have been talking to him. He was careful to keep his eyes focused on the floor, not even daring to look around or at his Master’s feet. A slave never looked around or tried to gather information – a slave was an extension of its master’s desires. He knew that. He would be good.

He felt drool pool on his chin and tried to swallow it – tried to control his mouth enough to close it and swallow the blood still oozing from when he bit his tongue. He didn’t realise the Alpha was moving until he was already retracting his hand, releasing his restraints.

He heard something clink on the floor, and then the Alpha was pulling the coat more firmly over his shoulders. Maybe this man didn’t find his mistreatment appealing?

His breath caught in his throat as he realised why the Alpha had freed him: maybe he wanted a trial run of his skills first before he finalised the sale. The Alpha didn’t move and he reached out himself, keeping his eyes respectfully lowered. He rested his violently shaking hands on the Alpha’s chest and tried not to think about the firm muscles he could feel under the shirt. This man was bigger and stronger than Kubrik or Gordon put together – if he, no. When he wanted to hurt him, he might not heal right in the aftermath.

He shoved that thought away, sliding his hands as enticingly as he could down the man’s chest until he reached his trousers. He fumbled with the zipper at his fly for a moment when suddenly the Alpha took his hands and gently pushed them away.

“Well no. That won’t do, cher. Ain’t gonna want none of that.”

Cher. French – no. the man wasn’t French. Louisiana? He wasn’t as good with accents anymore, and settled for wondering if the pet name was going to be his new name. It wasn’t as bad as some of the other names he had been called and he mentally ordered himself to remember to answer to that name now.

He shakily folded his hands back behind his back, resuming his trained position. “As you wish, Master.” Polite, submissive, biddable – that is what he would be now.

Disappointment filled the Alpha’s scent and his stomach twisted as he realised he had already fucked up.

“Don’t call me that, cher – just Benny will do.”

The voice was still soft and soothing and he didn’t have time to wonder why. He was getting a second chance to be good now – he couldn’t fuck up again. Masters never had much patience for that. He nodded quickly, desperately grateful and wished the Alpha could scent him right now and know he wasn’t being intentionally difficult. “Yes, sir- Benny. Yes, Benny.” he cringed at his immediately mistake.

He realised the Alpha was talking again, and scrambled to focus just in time to register his Master asking if he could stand.

He nodded, or thought he did, and immediately struggled to get to his feet.

He blacked out as he hurried to move, and came back in control with his face buried in his Alpha’s chest.

He was pushed gently back, and he realised in horror that he had smeared blood and spit all over his owner’s white shirt.

Fucked. He was fucked. He hadn’t even made it five minutes. He couldn’t even manage that. He wanted to cry, wanted to beg, but he didn’t know how Benny wanted him to beg so he couldn’t even untie his tongue to make a sound. He felt himself moved, and the coat wrapped tighter around him, and distantly heard someone mention a doctor before he was bodily picked up.

He tried to stay awake, tried to do anything to appease his new owner.

He felt his head getting woozy, and recognised the familiar feeling of the sedative finally taking hold.

As he drifted off, he let himself feel held – feel safe. This is what he had dreamed off when he was young, being held and protected by someone who wanted him. Never by anyone better than him, just someone who wanted him as he was with all of his brusque, sarcastic edges and arrogance.

That dream was long since dead. Now all he wanted was to be what his owner wanted – all he wanted was to be good enough to be left alone. Or at least fed a couple times a day if he couldn’t do that.

He wondered what this man would be like. He wondered if he would be like Kubrick, or Gordon, or Zachariah…

His head sagged back as his body went fully limp, and then he felt his head adjusted so it leaned against the Alpha’s chest and didn’t just hang backwards. He felt pathetically grateful for this moment of kindness and wondered how he would be expected to repay it later.

As he passed out, all that he could imagine was Benny raping him gently until the image changed into a nightmare about getting violently fucked by the corpse of Kubrick again.

Chapter Text

The Omega passed out before they even made it out of the auction building, and Benny held him protectively closer. He kept his heavy peacoat wrapped around the entirely too small body he held, and tried to tamp down his anger just in case the man wasn’t entirely out yet and could still scent him.

He unlocked his car and opened the door of the backseat. He leaned in, settling his new person on the bench. He buckled the seat belts over him before slowly straightening up. He stared through the window at the unconscious Omega, and he kicked the back wheel.

Taking a deep calming breath, he pulled his key fob out of his trouser pocket and opening the driver door. He got into the seat and closed the door as he started the car. He gripped the steering wheel and realised he had absolutely no idea where to even start. He didn’t know if the man in his backseat was even salvageable by this point. He didn’t know how to fix him – didn’t know how to be responsible for another human being.

He blinked as he realised his husband was going to kill him, and he had to laugh at himself. “I’ll be making this up to you for quite a long time, ain’t I cher….” he muttered to himself, putting the car into gear.

There was a ding on his phone and he picked it up as he pulled out onto the street. His smile softened as he read his husband’s text complaining about the new arsehole that was trying to intimidate him, understanding it was really a check in to see how the auction was doing.

Leaving the auction now, cherie. He texted back.

How much lighter in the wallet am I finding myself this time?

Yes…

there was the blinking texting bubble for a couple of minutes before Crowley’s text came through: Whatever you got had better be a bloody delight or I will torture you with tortures that no one in the history of torture has ever been tortured with before.

He rolled his eyes at the familiar and empty threat, and then winced as he realised that the Omega unconscious behind him would not recognise it as a bluff.

I’ll see you when you get home, he sent before turning the screen over and placing it face down.

He would figure this out when he got home. They both would – they all would.

*****

He was lying on something soft, and covered up with something else soft. He didn’t move right away, just enjoying the blissful feeling of lying down on something comfortable without any pressure of assuming a correct position. Whatever was covering him was pulled up to his chin and he wanted to curl up under it, pulling it over his head. It felt like before. Felt like a Saturday morning when he didn’t have to wake up early for school. It felt like he could feel the sun peeking in through the curtains, and like he could stay in bed all day and nothing would happen.

Bed.

He was in a bed.

Fuck.

He woke up from the lingering dregs of the sedative in an immediate panic, freezing under the soft blanket. He scented the room, trying to figure out what was going on before he got hurt. He waited for the weight of someone to crawl onto the bed next to him, waited for someone to pin him down, waited for someone to rip the softness away…. He slowly realised he didn’t sense anyone else at all in the room with him.

His breathing settled more, and he gingerly sat up.

He wasn’t even tied up, wasn’t restrained at all. He wasn’t stuffed or covered in cum or…

He was confused.

He sat in the bed for a while, the warm duvet pooled around his waist. He stared blindly at the foot of the bed, until he dared to raise his gaze and look around the room. His heart was pounding in his chest at the risky move but when no one burst through the closed door of the bedroom, he continued to look around.

The room was expensive. Expensive, but not gaudy. It was tasteful. The bedding he was wrapped in was of a ridiculously high quality, probably silk; and he ran the sheet through his fingers as he looked around the room. There was an open closet filled with expensive suits hanging in rows, and a couple of shelves he couldn’t see the contents of from his angle. There were several pieces of exquisite, solid wood furniture and he couldn’t help but notice that the edges were all round – they wouldn’t cut into his skin when he was bent or thrown over them.

He wondered what was in the drawers – wondered what toys he would become intimately familiar with.

As he sat on the soft bed and the last vestiges of drugs faded from his system, the memories came back. The nice memories. The soft memories. The memories of a man who uncuffed him, who wrapped him in his coat, who didn’t make him suck him off or worse.

He remembered the anger too, and he swallowed hard. He looked nervously at the door, but couldn’t make himself kneel on the hard wooden floors yet. He didn’t want to think about the anger yet – didn’t want to think about ruining his shirt with his clumsiness. He didn’t know the Alpha, and that should be a good thing, right? He wasn’t a friend of Kubrick’s, or of Gordon’s. He was...a stranger. Yes, he was angry, and so much stronger than any of his previous masters, and taller and-

He cut that train of panicked thought off before he threw up the bile in his stomach and instead focused on the fact that the Alpha had carried him out of the storage rooms instead of having the crate transported to his...house, and that he had been put in a real bed rather than a crate at best, and a training center at worst. It was nice. It wouldn’t last of course – only mates or breeding slaves got treated like this. If he had to guess – if he was allowed to guess – the Alpha must of come to the auction for something else, and had jumped at the chance to own a pre-broken Omega. If he had to guess, the Alpha didn’t know he was barren yet.

His breath hitched and he buried his face in one hand before wrapping the other around his stomach. After a moment, he gave in and collapsed back onto the bed, curling up and pulling the duvet over his head. Here he was safe. Here he could hide and rest and he should be sleeping now. Gathering his strength, learning everything he could so he could perhaps be kept as a domestic slave. He wasn’t trained for that of course but...surely he could learn? He would take any punishment he just...he wanted to rest. Surely he was still good for that, right? He could cook once, surely he could still wash floors at least. Wash toilets even. He didn’t care. He’d clean the bloody sex dungeon with his tongue if it meant he got a meal a day and an uninterrupted, natural nights sleep.

Which was pathetic. He was pathetic.

He could feel tears welling in his eyes and he squeezed them shut.

The Alpha – Benny. He had to be different, he had to be nice. And everyone knew that Omegas conceived best when they weren’t starving so...maybe he had some time. Benny had looked at his...incredibly unattractive figure and had still bought him. Had still carried him out of the auction house himself. Surely that had to count for something, right?

It was still pathetic. Latching on to the bare minimum of decency and he hated with everything that was left in him of himself that he knew with certainty that he would give up the last vestiges of himself just to keep it.

He couldn’t stop the tears from leaking out of his eyes, and he dismally thought that ruining the bedsheets with tears usually didn’t happen until the third date at least.

The door slammed open and an Alpha swaggered into the room.

An Alpha who was decidedly not Benny.

He froze in terror and wondered if he had been out long enough for the suppressant to wear off too, or if he stayed still enough if no one would find him.

Was he in a brothel? Had he been bought for public use?!

There was a thump on the end of the bed and he still couldn’t move. He should be uncovering, prostrating himself on the floor – at the very least presenting his holes to the Alpha like Benny would want.

No wonder he was in a bed – nice clients probably liked doing it in beds.

The part of his brain that wasn’t frozen in sheer panic wondered if one day he would have the same viscerally disgusted reaction to beds as he did to medical exam tables because of this.

“Benny?”

The Alpha’s voice was higher than Benny’s, but not by much. There was the rustle of cloth, and he could imagine the Alpha stripping. From the quality of the brothel, he could see it was high end – maybe the clients wanted the illusion of lovemaking? Maybe it didn’t matter that he was barren – maybe it was just a bonus. Maybe he could keep the bed and the blankets and the room and-

And he told himself not to get his hopes up. He didn’t deserve luxuries like that.

And he still couldn’t make himself move.

“if you slept in in the morning, like I tell you to every day, honey…” the man – Scottish his panicking brain supplied – drawled, his voice getting closer. “You wouldn’t need to take a nap in the middle of the bloody day.” his voice sharpened and then he was standing over him.

The blanket was suddenly gone and then there was silence, followed by the scent of surprise and then the quickly rising flood of anger. He met the Alpha’s dark eyes for what felt like an eternity before reality came crashing down on him.

He finally dragged in a full breath and practically threw himself off the bed and to the ground. He clasped his wrists behind his back and pressed his forehead to the floor in front of the dark Alpha’s Italian shoes and tried to formulate words.

The anger was rising, and then there was a slow exhale through clenched teeth.

The dam broke and his mouth finally started obeying the panic signals in his brain again. “I am so sorry, Master. Please forgive me, master. I didn’t – I swear-” he broke off his babbling as he realised he genuinely had no idea how he really got on the bed. He had assumed the other – that Benny had done it but...what if he had crawled in while he was drugged and alone? “Please, punish me as you see fit, Ma-”

“If you say Master one more time I-” he broke off and exhaled through his teeth again.

There was movement above him, and he stared at the shiny floor under his eyes. Suddenly, there were footsteps walking away from him, and out of the room and he slumped in his position.

“Benjamin Lafitte! I swear, when I find you…” The yelling trailed off, but the scent of furious Alpha lingered in its absence.

He stayed where he was, too terrified to move, and too lost to even begin to prepare for whatever might be coming. He wondered if the Scotsman had been expecting someone pretty, or even female, and he cringed as he realised he would be punished for what was never even his choice before or during his life.

Suddenly the yelling was back, and he tensed up once again.

“You did what?” the Sctosman yelled.

There was something unintelligible, but he could tell that it was Benny speaking.

“do you even have the first beginning clue what a moronic idea that was? Have you seen him-” he broke off. “Yes I saw him, you simpleton.” even while hissing, the Scotsman voice carried very well. “He is in our bed!”

“I couldn’t just leave him there, cher!” This time, Benny’s reply was understandable.

“do I look like I run a charity to you?”

His reply was sarcastic and once again too low to pick up on.

“That was my money, you moron!”

there was silence where he waited, desperately trying to hear anything.

“...I won’t apologise for that.” The Scotsman finally said in a softer tone.

Benny snorted. “you never do, cherie.”

He realised the voices were moving a little closer to him, and he ducked his head, trying not to look as if he had been trying to listen.

“why’d you even look in the bed? You can’t scent him yet.”

That would explain a lot, he realised.

This time the Scot said something sarcastic in a voice too low to pick up on, but Benny chuckled at whatever it was.

“You saw him, Crowley. I couldn’t bring myself to just leave him there.” The voices were just outside his door now, which he realised hadn’t been closed behind the Scot. Behind Crowley.

There was an exasperated sigh. “he will probably die within a week, and I am not taking part in your little pity project.”

He stopped breathing, wondering what sort of monster Benny was that he wanted an already broken slave to finish killing.

“I know you cry at ASPCA ads, cherie.” he retorted, amused.

“And I’m not sleeping in that bed until it’s cleaned. I don’t know what that thing has- ow!”

he heard flesh hit flesh and couldn’t hide his flinch.

“His name is Balthazar.” there was a steel edge in Benny’s normally soft voice.

There was another rustle of cloth, and when Crowley spoke it was almost apologetic. “...alright. I don’t know what Balthazar has – you are taking him to a doctor, correct?”

There was silence.

“I didn’t know if you were going to add itinerant general physician to your resume.” He snarked.

“I could think of some activities that could be spiced up-”

There was the sudden smell of disgust, and Balthazar was suddenly terrified the suppressants had worn off abruptly until Benny chuckled and there was the sound of kissing.

“Ain’t nothing in need of spicing up, cherie.” he promised, his drawl deepening. “Plenty happy with the arrangement we got now.”

“Right.” Someone smelled like arousal and Balthazar tried to melt through the floor, knowing where this led – where this always led. First the flirting and slow arousal if he was lucky before there were looks and touches and hands and cocks and holes that were barely prepped and – he dragged his attention violently back to the men in the room with him. “is that why you bought a new pet? Is someone nesting?”

“if you ain’t careful, cherie, I’ll teach you a whole new meaning to the word dry spell.” Benny said in a casual but threatening voice.

Crowley laughed and there was the sound of kissing again. “He is certainly a better decoration than a new collection of knots for your wall.”

“Crowley, for pity’s sake…” he sounded fond and exasperated.

“You are spooning me in bed for the foreseeable future, and making me delicious three course meals.” he demanded.

“Course, your highness,” He said, now firmly amused.

“Wonderful. I...am going to go get drunk, and then research permits for this.” Crowley said. There was a pause as he turned to leave. “...I don’t care how you figure it out, but I want my bedroom back, or there will be consequences.” he hissed before angrily stomping down the hall and going to wherever else the property extended.

Benny laughed a little to himself, and Balthazar prayed and begged and folded himself down further as he desperately hoped for the other Alpha to walk away too. The second Alpha – Crowley – was mad, and he was the cause. He had been in the bed and in the private bedroom and it didn’t matter that he hadn’t meant to be – it was obviously his fault and he couldn’t even make excuses for himself.

He felt eyes settle on him and knew it was a vain hope. He just hoped that maybe there would be some tenderness in whatever twisted punishment he was about to endure.

“...Cherie?”

He flinched. “I – the slave apologises for...for using – for sullying the bed, master. I...Please punish me so that I know my place.” he managed to get out in a broken sob.

There was silence for a moment, and then footsteps across the room and he tried to stay still – he did! - but he couldn’t help flinching when the Alpha crouched down beside him.

“Can you stand, cher?”

That gentle, soothing, so preciously kind tone was back and Balthazar wanted to cry. But the drugs had worn off and they both knew that, so he nodded. “May I – the slave have permission to – to stand? Master?” he tacked on quickly after a moment.

There was disappointment in his scent again. “Just Benny, cher. Ain’t nobody’s master – never been too good at taking care of myself, let alone others. Just...let’s get you up and I’ll get you set up in the office.” he said, still in that gentle tone, before he smiled. “Crowley can either have his office or his bed, and I know which one he ain’t gonna miss much with some persuasion.”

Whatever it took, Balthazar reminded himself. He would be whatever they wanted him to be, and he would be good at it this time.

Chapter Text

“Damn, cher, but you’re a mess…”

Balthazar stood without shifting on the cold floor, his chin tucked to his chest and his eyes focused on a random spot on the ground where he had no chance of glimpsing anything his master was doing. He had gotten good at it over the years, learning not to watch his periphery. It started with Zachariah and his use of blindfolds and hoods to train him not to look, and eventually it just became rote. If he couldn’t see what was coming, he wouldn’t shy away from it and make his situation worse.

Like now. Benny was speaking softly as he walked away from him, opening one of the dresser drawers. He was probably getting something horrible out – or something that would be used horribly. He was used to that. He was a sadist’s toy after all. Once a slave fell to that level, once they became broken and scarred, there was no going back. He wasn’t good for anything else.

“Let’s just focus on getting you cleaned up.”

His breath caught as Benny spoke near him again, and he tensed up as he waited for...for something. Anything. He didn’t know what, he wasn’t allowed to know what.

There was something just outside of his range of vision, and he swallowed.

There was silence as Benny waited for something, and Balthazar felt dread twist inside of him.

He was one of those types. The ones who pretended to be nice and good, only giving you what you ask for. The ones who wanted you to beg to be hurt.

He got his tongue working again: “Please. Please sir. Play-” his voice broke. “Play with your toy, sir.”

There was an overwhelming scent of disgust in the air, and Balthazar fell to his knees as he realised he had done it wrong. His knees cracked against the floor, but he didn’t feel them. “Please, sir! I don’t...how shall I..please sir, teach me how to behave!” he begged, exhausted. “Please I don’t know what you want – I want to please you, sir! Please just-” his voice broke again, and he felt his chest twist in tears.

He was never good enough, never what they wanted. Of course, he realised that was part of the game for them – Gordon had been more than glad to tell him that one time when he had screamed to just be told what Gordon wanted – but it still made him feel worthless. Made him feel like a failure. Made him feel pathetic – made him feel like everything he really was.

So he curled up on his knees on the floor again where he belonged, and waited for hell to start one more time.

Crowley had estimated it would only be a week and, heaven help him, he clung to that hope.

There was a gentle touch on his arm, and he flinched.

“That’s alright, cher. Gotta have a better handle on my emotions right now – that ain’t aimed at you. Come on, let’s get you on your feet again.”

he blinked in confusion at the floor, and then scrambled to his feet when Benny started to lift him.

“We’re just going to start with a shower right now. Get you cleaned up and presentable, and then we will get you to bed.”

The crushing pressure around his chest was back. The only thing that was saving him right now was how disgusting he was, and he didn’t even have the strength to speak up for himself. “yes, sir,” he whispered.

“Just Benny, cher.”

He didn’t want to call him Benny. He didn’t want to think of him as a person – he wanted to think of him as a monster, a demon of some sort. Because if he started thinking of masters as people who could do the things to him that they had done well...he stopped being a person, didn’t he. “yes, sir.”

There was a sigh and then those big hands gently guided him across the floor. He watched the carpet turn into hardwood and then into tile and then Benny’s hand left his arm.

He froze in place, still looking down at the floor. He heard the water turned on and he squeezed his eyes shut. He swallowed and tried to think of the good things about this. He would be clean. Really clean again. Maybe even allowed soap. Maybe he would be allowed to clean inside of himself – scrub every trace of Kubrick off his person. Maybe he could start fresh, maybe he could be good enough for Benny.

Benny who had Crowley. Two alphas.

Two alphas who now had him.

He started shaking again – or shaking more violently. He tried to imagine what would happen, how they would use him, hurt him…

“Are you ready?”

He flinched at the sound of Benny’s voice in front of him again and ordered himself to pay attention. He ought to hear him coming, anticipate him – he nodded jerkily.

“then let’s just get you cleaned up.” he took his arm, gently guiding him across the tile.

Gentle. Always so gentle. His fingers weren’t bruising his arm – they didn’t even hold him tightly. If Balthazar was brave enough, he could pull free with just a twitch of his arm. He didn’t of course – he wasn’t stupid. He wanted the gentleness to continue, so he didn’t say a thing as he was led into the spray of water. He tensed up, waiting for the ice and the needles and and…

“Is it too hot?” There was a movement suddenly for the faucet.

“No!” it was warm. Blessedly warm – borderline hot – water pouring over his skin and he hadn’t had a hot water...anything since… “Please. Please-”

The hand was withdrawn slowly. “Take your time, cher.” he patted his arm. “Use any of the soaps you like.”

Balthazar stood under the water, barely able to process it. He heard the door of the bathroom close and he carefully opened his eyes. He was shivering again, the temperature of the water making his body react. But it was amazing, and as he blinked water out of his eyes he realised he was crying.

It was so nice. It was so kind and gentle and...nice. He wanted to keep it. Wanted to stay like this forever.

He shouldn’t. He wasn’t allowed to. He...cold showers, cold water, pain, suffering – he was a fucking sex toy. He should turn off the water, clean off perfunctorily and just…

he couldn’t do that either. He couldn’t voluntarily subject himself to that.

He stood in the heavy spray of the hot water and slowly lifted his hands. He ran his hands over his face, feeling the stubble and cuts brush his palms before he ran his hands through his hair and then suddenly he was frantically moving, driven by the need to be clean, really clean. He looked around the shower quickly. He saw a bar of soap and grabbed it, lathering it up in his hands. He scrubbed his soapy hands over his face and his hair and his chest. He scrubbed it over his arms, rubbing the soap into the scabs that were starting to heal. He dug his fingernails into the soap, scratching out anything that remained beneath them. He scrubbed his legs, his feet – every inch of his skin he scrubbed until it was red and he finally felt clean again, if just for a little while.

He looked up at the shower head, blinking in the spray, and breathed out as he realised it was detachable. He reached up, taking it out of its socket and fiddling with it until he got it to come out in a jet and not a spray. He held his breath, waiting for some sort of punishment for his initiative, but he still couldn’t make himself stop. With some more maneuvering and stretching, he got the water going inside of him; and he reached out to clean out his arse as best he could. He knew it didn’t really do anything – traces of his masters were erased the quickest from his arse after they used him but...it was the act. The choice of doing it himself and not pinned to the floor by his neck until they deemed him clean enough.

He slowly sank to his knees again, exhausted. He held the shower nozzle over his shoulder so the hot water continued to pour over him, and he just sat there on the floor.

He wasn’t a planned purchase, he knew that. There hadn’t been an inspection or transportation – the short Alpha’s reaction especially had given that away. He wouldn’t be surprised if Benny had never owned a slave – if that was why he was so nice. He just didn’t know what to do, didn’t understand the absolute power he had. He would eventually of course – it wasn’t like Balthazar could or even would stand up for himself – but maybe…

He reached back and turned the water off, cold again suddenly.

He stayed on his knees, barely feeling the tile beneath him as he blinked in the silence. He couldn’t hear anyone, couldn’t hear alphas waiting for him to be done – bursting in to demand obedience. He could barely even scent them from in here. Not that he couldn’t scent them – their smell lingered everywhere – but here it was obvious that the scents were faded and old, not present. No, here, against all odds, he felt safe. Untouched.

It wouldn’t last, he told himself viciously. Benny had already said as soon as he was cleaned up that he would fuck him. This wouldn’t last.

He wondered if Crowley was going to join in the first time, or if he wasn’t his type. Not that it tended to matter – everyone liked the allure of a helpless slave once they had the opportunity. He wondered if Benny would still be nice and gentle. Crowley said he would last a week, but Benny was so...patient. Balthazar didn’t know what to think, what to expect. He shouldn’t be trying to figure it out of course, but knowing what was coming...he thought it made it a little easier sometimes.

He shifted on the floor, spreading his legs a little and settling back so that the air would dry him off; and he waited, like a proper slave.

Benny leaned against the wall outside of the bathroom for a moment after he shut the door, the echo of the Omega’s broken begging still bouncing around in his head. He heaved a sigh and trudged down the hall to find his husband.

Crowley was sitting at the kitchen island, his laptop in front of him and a bottle of Scotch beside it. He heard Benny come in and glanced over.

He sat down beside him, resting a hand on Crowley’s thigh.

Crowley filled his glass and pushed it over to Benny. “...you and your pity projects.”

He huffed a laugh, drinking the Scotch. “You didn’t see him there, cher…”

“Did he look better than he did in bed?” he retorted.

“Nah. Faceplanted and was covered in blood.” He drained the glass. “They didn’t even care, Crowley. They looked up at that poor man and they…” he grit his teeth in anger.

“And you rode in and saved the day.” He said dryly.

“Couldn’t really buy cat o’ nine tails after seeing his scars.” he poured another glass. “I ain’t got a clue what to do next, cher.” he said quietly.

Crowley moved his hand, taking Benny’s. “You’re taking him to the doctor. That is what you are doing next.”

Benny shook his head at Crowley’s annoyed tone, understanding the teasing underneath it. “Got any recommendations, chief? Know a doctor good with traumatised Omegas?”

“Do I look like I run a hospital?” he sputtered.

Benny smiled a little. “I’ll...find someone. Got him to take a shower. Gonna get some food in him next – think he’ll survive without a checkup for a few days.”

“If he dies here, I am making you fill out every piece of paperwork by hand.” he muttered.

“Ain’t nobody gonna die, cher.” he leaned over, turning Crowley’s face to him so he could kiss him. “We’ll handle this just fine.”

“We? This is not a ‘we’ problem, honey. This is a ‘you’ problem.”

Benny chuckled, getting up. “That’s why you’ve been reading up on the paperwork needed to keep him safe and ours, right?” he finished his second glass of Scotch and set the cup down by the bottle again.

Crowley flipped him off. “I’d rather not have to bail you out of jail. That is all.”

“Sure it is… I’m thinking breakfast for dinner.” he started getting out the eggs and sausage.

He narrowed his eyes.

“Eggs, sausage, pancakes – should be easy enough to eat.”

“It is dinner time.”

“And?”

“I deserve a proper dinner.”

“You gonna keep complaining, or eat what I give you?”

“I deserve meat! And potatoes! And-”

“And you never moved past the potato famine, I get it.” he dropped the sausage in a fry pan.

Crowley looked more offended. “That was in Ireland!”

He smiled slowly. “More or less the same, ain’t it?”

Crowley was sputtering in outrage, and Benny laughed.

“I will make you regret everything.” he hissed.

“Sure you will, chief. I’m sure you will.” he started mixing the pancake batter as another pan heated up. “I am putting Balthazar in your office.”

There was silence, and then a clink as the glass or the bottle was set down on the counter again. “...I beg your pardon?”

“He needs a room, and you don’t have a guest room.”

“This is your place too!”

“I wasn’t in charge of picking out the flat, cher – just happy enough to be here for the ride.” he looked back, amused. “So it’s the bedroom, or your office.”

He grit his teeth. “No one, in the history of torture, has been tortured with the torture you will be tortured with.”

“Mm. I’m sure that can be arrange, cherie.” he drawled.

“You...heathen!”

“figured you wanted our bedroom more than you wanted your office.”

Crowley was still glaring at him, unwilling to capitulate yet.

“I’ll drag out my army cot, set it up in there. He...he needs a room of his own. His own space.” Benny said in a quieter, more serious tone.

“...you still have that damned cot?”

“More comfortable to sleep on than your expensive couch.” he flipped the sausage.

“You and your...plebian tastes… fine! Fine. I will clear out what I need, but it is moving into our bedroom.” he sounded annoyed.

“Thanks, cher. Knew you’d understand.” he smiled at his husband.

Crowley rolled his eyes at him. “You’re making me soft.”

“Good thing ain’t no one gonna believe me then, hm?”

“Get your arse over here and kiss me.” he snapped, closing the laptop.

“Why, I’m in the middle of cooking you food – didn’t you demand fresh food in payment?” he said in an overly innocent voice.

“Benjamin…”

“I wouldn’t want to burn this...waste more of your hard earned money…” he was trying to hide a smile.

“Bugger the money!” the chair scraped against the floor and Crowley stomped over to him. He crowded into his space, bumping the handle of a fry pan before yanking Benny’s head down to kiss him. “You bastard.”

Benny wrapped an arm around his husband’s waist, kissing him back. “You know I love you, cher.”

Crowley huffed, and kissed him again.

Chapter Text

Balthazar was half asleep when he finally heard the door to the bathroom open. He jerked back to wakefulness, pulling himself into the proper position and bowing down until his forehead nearly touched the floor.

“You done already?”

He swallowed and nodded jerkily. “yes. Yes, sir. I...I used the bar soap.” that way Benny knew which soap to throw away. “I cleaned everything,” he promised.

There was a moment of silence, and then Benny stepped closer. “I brought you some clothes, cher.”

He startled at the feeling of a hand at his elbow, and scrambled to his feet. He swallowed. “thank you, sir.”

the alpha sighed. “Just Benny, please.”

He weighed his options – trying to decide how bad it would be if he kept trying to use the proper honorifics instead of the name his master insisted on. “Yes, Benny.” he said quietly, giving in.

The Alpha seemed to relax. “Okay. Just...here. The clothes are on the counter – I’ll wait outside. Just come out when you’re dressed, cher.”

He nodded silently, feeling Benny step away and hearing him shut the door behind him. He stood there for a moment before cautiously raising his head and letting his hands fall back to his side.

There was no one in the bathroom as promised, and a pile of clothes on the counter. He stepped towards it with dread in his stomach, wondering what he would be dressed up as this time. He stood in front of the clothes, trying to steel himself, and reached out with a shaking hand.

The clothes were soft with use, and as he lifted it up, he frowned at what turned out to just be a sweatshirt. It looked like it would fit Benny, and would drown his own figure, and his mind couldn’t come up with a single situation or fetish where he would look appealing in this.

He searched through the rest of the clothes in the pile – a pair of sweatpants that luckily had a draw string, a pair of boxers, thick socks – looking for the lingerie, the lace that itched and drew attention to his body rather than hiding it. He looked for the costume and the latex and the prison that was just as binding as bars, and found just warm clothes.

He swallowed the lump in his throat, and quickly pulled on the clothes. He looked in the mirror, and all he saw was his face. He didn’t see scars, or his cock, or...anything. Everything was covered, and he wanted to cry. If this was what he got to wear when he wasn’t being used, he would do anything.

He brushed at his eyes to make sure there were no tears, and told himself to be good for Benny. To go to bed with him, and thank him in the only way he could.

He looked at himself once more, and then opened the bathroom door. He kept his head down, and clasped his hands behind his back as soon as the door was opened.

Benny straightened up from the wall and turned to look at him, smelling relieved when he saw him. “We’ll have to get you some better fitting clothes – for now that’s all we have.”

The relief at being covered turned to dread inside of him at the thought of ‘better fitting clothes’ and what that could mean for a whore like himself. But he nodded obediently. “Thank you, m-Benny.”

“I made some food, cher. I’d like you to eat a little before you go back to bed.”

He almost looked up in his surprise, almost broke one of the cardinal rules of being a slave. “...food? Benny.” he tacked on.

“Yes. Food – You look thin enough to blow away in the first wind that comes along.” he sounded amused.

He blinked at the floor, trying to figure out what the catch was. “I – thank you? Benny?”

He nodded. “You good to follow me, cher?”

He nodded quickly, stepping out into the hallway.

Benny started walking, leading him over the floors until they reached the kitchen. He was quiet as they walked, and Balthazar didn’t know if that was better or not. He didn’t mind the lack of gloating, taunting, or humiliation; but he didn’t know Benny yet, and he needed to learn fast. Especially if he wanted to keep being good enough to be treated so kindly.

He blinked in surprise when he walked into Benny’s back, not noticing he had stopped walking, and he cringed as he waited for the inevitable hit for such stupidity.

“Sorry about that, cher.” Benny said softly, stepping out of the way. “Just take a seat and I’ll get you your plate.”

He slowly relaxed, confused but not about to correct his master. He darted a quick look around the room, seeing Crowley sitting at the dining table and watching him; and immediately dropped his gaze again. He didn’t see a spot for a slave, and waited for Benny to take his own seat.

His master made his way around the island a moment later, and Balthazar fell into step behind him.

“Well. That’s just creepy.”

“Crowley.”

Balthazar flinched and Benny took a deep breath as he sat down opposite his husband. Balthazar immediately folded himself to his knees on the floor beside him.

“What in the world are you doing, cher?”

Balthazar blinked, and couldn’t think of how to answer that. “I...know my place? Benny.”

“I – we have chairs. You can sit in them. I don’t...you don’t have to kneel on the floor.”

He started shaking at the anger he could scent from the Alpha beside him, and he carefully got off the floor and pulled out a chair. He perched on it, the nausea getting worse as he sat where he was never supposed to sit. He felt like he was going to break down or throw up, and he couldn’t even scent the Alphas anymore over his overwhelming panic. He was going to be beaten, flogged, starved, raped into unconsciousness and then have it all done over again – slaves. Don’t. Sit. on. Furniture.

He knew that. He knew that in his bones. It didn’t matter if he was ordered to, it was always a trap and he shouldn’t be here – shouldn’t be on here, he didn’t know what to do, this wasn’t good, he was going to be hurt, why couldn’t-

There was a hand on his arm and he was being pulled away. He let out a broken sob, but went willingly. He cringed, waiting for the beating to start, and he was being pushed to the floor. He folded himself into position without any thoughts, and as he felt the floor beneath his knees he calmed a little. At least he was back where he belonged – at least he wouldn’t get punished for longer.

He waited, and noise slowly started filtering back in through the panic-fueled haze his world had faded into.

“...deserves better!”

“He doesn’t know that.” Crowley said dryly.

“He should. He...he is a human. He doesn’t-” Benny broke off, angry.

“One day at a time.”

there was silence for a moment, and Balthazar realised no one was hurting him. He blinked at the floor, confused; and then there was a plate of food under his face.

“Eat. Please, cher.”

Food. Food he could do. He took the plate and straightened slightly to hold it. He startled as a fork appeared in his line of sight next.

“Do you want syrup, cher?” Benny’s voice was still so gentle, even after his transgression, and Balthazar shook his head.

“No thank you, Benny.” he said quietly. He didn’t want to make a mess with syrup – didn’t want to risk it.

“Let me know if you want more food.” Benny said.

He nodded again, sure that he wouldn’t dare risk that. He held the fork in a still trembling hand and looked at the food, wondering what was in it. Sedatives? Aphrodisiacs? Heat inducers? Regular run of the mill illegal drugs?

He could smell the hot, fresh food, and decided he didn’t really care anymore. He could eat the food and have a full stomach for whatever was coming; or he could refuse and be drugged the painful way. He breathed in deeply and cut off a small piece of pancake. He put it in his mouth and...it really was good. Fresh, hot, homemade… He ate it quickly and took another bite, and then another, and another. He didn’t know when he stopped paying attention, but soon the plate was empty and his starved stomach felt painfully full. He reluctantly put the plate down and clasped his hands behind his back.

He was clean, he was warm, and he was full.

It wouldn’t last, he reminded himself – but for now, it was enough.

Benny envied Crowley’s control of his scent, and knew it was mostly due to growing up with Rowena. He could tell from the way that his husband was watching Balthazar that he was angry – could tell from the tightness in his jaw as he ate – but couldn’t scent a single thing.

He knew his own scent was all over the place, and took a deep breath to try to steady it in something resembling calm. He could hear Balthazar eating as if the food would disappear if he didn’t swallow it, and he did not want to think about how often that might have been true in his life.

He cut a bite of his pancake and chewed it robotically. He hissed as Crowley kicked his shin.

“Talk. About anything. You’re brewing your own personal thunderstorm over there, pet.”

He rolled his eyes at him. “I’m fine.”

“You’re lucky he’s so focused on his food he can’t scent you right now,” he said dryly.

He sighed. “I know…” He glanced down at Balthazar. “I don’t...maybe I should try to find resources or...his family – something.”

“And tell them what?”

“I’m not qualified to deal with this.”

“And they would be? We have the advantage of being strangers.” he took a bite, chewed it, and swallowed it. “How would you find them? ‘Male Omega, approximately mid-thirties, raped until he is little better than a dog’?”

“His name is Balthazar…”

“Is that his real name?”

Benny blinked. “I hadn’t…”

Crowley sighed. “Your bleeding heart is all the qualification you need in this instance, I believe. Just…” he grimaced. “Do what you do best.”

“Cook trashy food?”

He narrowed his eyes. “No, moron. Weasel your way into his heart.”

“I’m not-”

He rolled his eyes. “Just be yourself, Mr. Lafitte – don’t overthink this.”

He huffed and took another bite, actually tasting it this time.

Crowley looked smug as he ate his own food.

“Don’t start that, cher – it ain’t nothing to be proud of.”

“You don’t smell like wet dog anymore so…”

He flipped him off and realised the sound of Balthazar bolting his food had stopped. He glanced down and winced to see him back in what Benny assumed was a slave’s resting position.

Mentally, he named it ‘fuck that’ and also decided to never say the name out loud around Balthazar.

His chest tightened and he wondered if it was even possible for the Omega to recover from this. He didn’t know what his personality had been before, but it was blindingly obvious that it had been trained out of him extremely thoroughly. It was almost graceful how he moved, and knelt, and bowed – and Benny was sick at the thought of how he had to have learned it to make it second nature.

Even now, with no chain holding his wrist cuffs together, his hands were still clasped behind his back.

Benny slowly unclenched his teeth.

“Hey, cher.” he kept his voice calm. “You hungry for more?”

The Omega stiffened at being addressed, and shook his head. “No, thank you, m-Benny.”

He nodded. “Alright. There’s more than enough food around, if you get hungry later.”

Balthazar didn’t react and also didn’t relax.

Benny looked at his husband for help, but Crowley just shrugged.

“You...are you ready for bed?” he asked awkwardly.

Balthazar somehow went even more still. “I am, Benny.”

“Alright.” He pushed his half-full plate back and stood up. “I’ll show you where your room is if…”

Balthazar stood up from the floor with a fluid movement that Benny wasn’t quite sure how he managed and wasn’t about to ask.

He glared at his still unhelpful husband and gestured for Balthazar to follow him, making himself not react to how the slave fell into a practised half-step behind him. He kept his mouth shut as they walked through the flat, not sure how to give Balthazar a tour of the place when he wouldn’t even look up from the floor. He pushed open the door of the office and entered, grabbing the folded up cot from beside the door. He started unfolding the cot, on a hunch setting it up behind the desk so it was shielded from the door’s sight. He could sense Balthazar behind him, coming into the room with a wave of anxiety so strong that he didn’t even need to scent the Omega to know about it.

He snapped the last legs in place, and grabbed the pile of blankets from atop the desk. “Alright, cher. This will be your room. It ain’t much but...we’ll clean it out better later. For now, this will have to-” he broke off as he turned around to see Balthazar stepping out of his trousers and boxers. “What are you doing?” he asked, a little sharper than he meant to.

Balthazar didn’t move to cover himself, his hands folded behind his back as always. “I am ready for you, Benny.”

He was starting to wish he hadn’t insisted on his name. “...cher. I don’t need anything from you.”

He swallowed. “You...you said that...I am ready for bed, Benny.”

He stared at him, and felt the realisation hit like a ton of bricks. He took a breath and made himself count to ten before he spoke again. “...I ain’t going to sleep with you, Balthazar. I’m not...I’m married.” he said, hoping that made things clear.

Balthazar listened, his eyes still on the floor. “You can’t cheat with a slave, Benny – it’s like a dildo.”

Benny wanted to be sick, or shake the man until he really listened. “No. I...you ain’t my type, cher. Just...please. Put your clothes back on,” he said quietly. “You look freezing.”

He didn’t move and Benny wondered if he was going to at all, and then he slowly started pulling his trousers back on.

He relaxed. “I’ve got six different blankets for you, if you need more just...ask. Whatever you need – just ask.”

Balthazar nodded mutely, pulling on his sweatshirt again.

Benny ran a hand through his hair and decided he had done enough. “good night, cher.” he said quickly, trying not to look like he was fleeing as he skirted his way out of the room, shutting the door behind him.

He blinked in the corridor, and then groaned to himself, trudging off to find his husband and go to sleep.

Tomorrow was tomorrow’s problem.

Balthazar heard the door shut behind him, and all he felt was confusion. Benny had said – he had said, clean up, and then bed. It was very clear – even an idiot like him could understand that! Instead...instead he had gotten normal clothes, and fresh food, and…

And no sex.

No sex.

He couldn’t believe it, waiting for the door to open again and Benny or Crowley to come in and try out their new toy. He wasn’t so lucky as to get to eat and sleep for nothing. He couldn’t even feel any drugs working from the food. He…

He slowly raised his head and cautiously looked around the room.

It was understated. The furnishing were obviously expensive – besides the cot that looked like it was stolen from a war zone – and it looked like an office. It was an office. When Benny had said he was going to have a room of his own, all Balthazar could picture was a sex dungeon where he would be chained up until he was ready for use.

He shuddered at the memory and shook his head sharply. He carefully walked over to the cot, reaching out to touch the blankets. His blankets. All of them. For tonight at least. He would be warm, and soft, and…

If Benny was trying to win his loyalty, he was doing a good job.

He slowly unfolded the blankets, laying them out on the cot. He should stay up, wait until they decided it was time to use him, prepare himself so he wasn’t as tight when they inevitably came…

But he was so tired. He was warm, and clothed, and fed, and he just wanted to sleep. A natural sleep – not drugged or unconscious. Just asleep. He wasn’t going to waste his chance to get that, even if it was going to be a mistake.

He laid down, pulling five of the blankets over him and tucking them in.

His throat was tight, and as he blinked his eyes he realised he was crying again.

He didn’t understand. He didn’t. He didn’t know why Benny was being so nice, and gentle – he didn’t know how much this would cost later. He had to know, had to prepare!

His eyes were heavy, and he felt himself drifting off.

As he passed out, he wondered if maybe Gordon would have been better than this uncertain kindness.

Chapter Text

If Benny slept at all after falling into their bed that night, after making it with fresh sheets – he didn’t remember. It felt like he tossed at turned all night, dreadful dreams dragging him out of sleep every hour. When he did wake up in the morning as the sun peeked in through the windows, he didn’t feel rested. He stared at the ceiling above the bed and listened to Crowley snoring lightly beside him as he tried to gather his thoughts.

There wasn’t much to gather – he didn’t have enough information to make a decision. All he knew was that he was responsible for someone, and he wished he had just gotten a dog like Crowley had wanted. Instead, he was responsible for a human and he didn’t have the first clue how to start helping him.

A dog was supposed to follow at his heel, avoid sitting on furniture, and watch him as though Benny controlled the moon and the sun . When dogs did puppy dog eyes it was endearing and made you want to cuddle and pet them and love them – when humans did it...

He still couldn’t scent the omega, and he tried to tell himself that it was because he felt safe and calm.

He was lying to himself, but it was a nice lie for now. If he lied hard enough, he could forget that he hadn’t bought a dog. He had bought a human. Bought and paid for a human person that he was trying to convince – and himself – that he was finally safe.

As if Balthazar would feel safe right now.

He closed his eyes and tried to put himself in Balthazar’s place, to imagine what he was going through.

He couldn’t. He genuinely couldn’t. He was sure it was awful, and it was literally torture, and definitely way too much rape and he couldn’t imagine still being alive after all of that. The man was terrified obviously. Balthazar had begged to be hurt – had thought that was what Benny wanted. He offered sex because he thought of himself like a dildo, and he had scars on nearly every inch of his body, and Benny couldn’t even start somewhere. He couldn’t imagine how the Omega slept at night, how he faced every day knowing what was in store. He didn’t have a clue how the Omega hadn’t just killed himself to escape. He didn’t think he would ever be able to look at other humans the same way, knowing what they had been able to do - how they had been able to forget Balthazar was a human. He didn’t think Balthazar would be able to either.

He didn’t know if there was any coming back from this for him.

Weasel his way into his heart, that was Crowley’s advice.

Benny sighed and sat up, swinging his legs of the side of the bed. He glanced back at his husband.

“don’t know if I’m the right person for this, cher.” he whispered. “But you know I’m gonna try.” he promised, getting up and going to their bathroom.

“….cher? Balthazar?”

There was a hand on his shoulder and Balthazar murmured something even he didn’t understand. He pulled the warm blankets a little tighter around him and ignored the voice.

“Come on – it’s time to get up. Made you some breakfast – really more of what we had last night but...seemed to like it at least.”

The words filtered in through the warmth Balthazar was floating in and he longed to ignore it.

But he couldn’t, and he jerked awake. He tried to shove the blankets back, to get into the position he should have been waiting in, but he had managed to tangle them around himself in the night and he rolled off the cot and fell to the floor.

He could feel his throat closing up in fear, could hear the blood roaring in his ears and he felt sick.

A hand brushed the back of his neck and he went completely limp.

He waited to be dragged up, to be hurt – and then the hand was gone.

“sorry – was just trying to get you unraveled. You sure managed to get yourself tied up.” Benny chuckled.

Balthazar tried to help, tried to scent his master to anticipate what he wanted, but all he smelled was the same damp disgust that followed him whenever he showed up. He supposed that disgust was better than anger, but he couldn’t imagine why he had been bought if his owner was disgusted with him. He felt the blankets loosen around him, and he got an arm free to help get himself out.

As soon as he wriggled out of the cocoon, he knelt on the ground and clasped his hands behind his back. “I am sorry, Mas- Benny.”

The smell of disgust deepened. “That – you haven’t done anything wrong, cher. Nothing at all. Did you sleep well?”

He swallowed, but obediently answered. “Yes, Benny. I am prepared for you.”

The disgust shifted to anger, and Balthazar flinched. He didn’t dare look up at his master, but he couldn’t help but notice that the anger was slowly stifled.

“...no one is going to touch you, Balthazar.”

His breath caught in his throat at the sound of his name and he squeezed his eyes closed. He was sure the Alpha had probably already used it, but now that he was clean, fed, and rested… He didn’t know if he even wanted his name to be used again. His name belonged to happier times – times before he was ruined for anything worthwhile. His name belonged to a family that had long since moved on, and to hear it now when he didn’t even know what was expected of him…

He flinched again when he felt a hand resting gently on his shoulder.

“Breathe,. Breathe – take a breath, cher.”

He obediently dragged in a breath that seemed to catch in his throat. He was shaking slightly and he wondered if he was in a tall enough building to throw himself out of a window.

He just as quickly buried that thought, remembering the feeling of the collar that had been welded on him once for just the thought of escape.

He focused on breathing.

“there. There you go.” Benny sounded relieved.

He settled a little bit as the alpha relaxed and realised Benny was kneeling on the floor next to him, his calming hand still on his shoulder.

“Are you – I mean…” Benny sighed. “I made some food. I’d like you to eat something, cher.”

he swallowed, unclasping his hands and reaching for Benny’s fly.

“What – no! Not...not that. Not ever.”

He kept reaching, stilling when Benny caught both of his hands in his one hand. “I can make it good, Benny. Let me pay you back.” he purred, pouring as much of his seductive training into his voice as he could without it breaking.

The disgust was back in the air, mixed with anger and sorrow. “Balthazar. Cher. I...I’m not going to rape you. I’m not going to touch you. I...you don’t have any reason to believe me, but...you’re safe now. I swear.”

He was right about that at least, Balthazar thought bitterly: he didn’t believe him. But the Omega let his hands fall back to his side and nodded slowly, keeping his eyes down at the ground.

Benny sighed. “Can you get up?”

“Yes, sir.” he said, bringing a knee up and using it to gracefully leverage himself off the floor.

He kept his chin tucked to his chest and his arms behind his back as Benny got off the floor with a grunt.

“...made more pancakes.”

His stomach rumbled at the thought of food and he tried to smother his hunger.

“Should be plenty for you to eat. Made some sausage and bacon too, and some scrambled eggs.”

Balthazar fell into step behind him as they left the office he had slept in and followed the carpet back to the dining room.

“Not sure what your food preferences are but...you seemed to like it last night.”

He listened as they walked and started to hope he would be allowed to eat again, for no reason except...to eat. Of course, there could be drugs in it this time but….

He didn’t care. He didn’t care at all – he just wanted this over with now. He wanted the dread done with – he didn’t care what happened to him, he just wanted to be done with the waiting.

He blinked hard and swallowed to keep from crying, and nearly walked into Benny’s back.

He cringed, but nothing happened.

“Just...settle down anywhere. I’ll get you a plate.”

He blinked at the floor, and then hesitantly stepped forward. He stopped by a chair that smelled most like Benny and sank down to the floor beside it. He winced as the cuffs he still had on rubbed against his wrists, and his knees ached on the floor. He seemed to hurt more after a long night of restful sleep, but he clamped his mouth shut.

Better to hurt in silence than anger his owner.

A plate appeared in front of him, and he stared at the amount of food heaped onto it. As he stared, a huge glass of orange juice and an equally large glass of water was set down beside it.

“Eat what you can, cher.”

He stared for a moment more, and then slowly unclasped his hands and let them rest in his lap. He swallowed, and reached out for a pancake.

Nothing happened.

No one hit him, or screamed at him, or even laughed at him. There was only the sound of Benny making another plate, and the smell of the food in front of him.

He swallowed the lump in his throat again and started eating.

Benny tried not to stare at the Omega. He still couldn’t scent him, but he knew his own scent was all over the place and not helping the situation at all. He took a deep breath and tried to settle. He glanced sideways at Balthazar who was eating his food as fast as he could chew it and made himself turn back to his own food. He took a bite and mechanically chewed it.

Balthazar looked better today. At least, he thought he did. The skin he could see that wasn’t covered in the baggy clothes he had given him was still covered in scars and bruises, and his hair still hung in his face in matted lengths. He was still kneeling on the ground, and looked like he was waiting to get beaten at any moment.

But he was clean. And he was clothed. And he was eating.

Baby steps, Benny reminded himself.

He sighed and pulled his phone to him, turning on the screen and putting in his pin code. He took another bite and started searching for any good clinics near him that would be qualified to deal with Balthazar. He ruled out a few immediately that were literally just veterinarians who also treated omegas, and tried to stifle his disgust at everything that said about society. He ruled out a few more that were more suited for Omegas that were trying to conceive or had already conceived.

He remembered the auctioneer saying Balthazar was barren and he winced. He hated to say it, but he hoped the Omega hadn’t wanted kids. He had gotten everything else ripped away from him – he didn’t deserve to lose that as well. He didn’t deserve anything that had happened to him.

He scrolled further down the search results and then stopped. He clicked on the link to the website and opened it in a new tab. He clicked on it and started reading.

Lenore Benson. She was a trauma surgeon that transferred to GP, and was working in a domestic violence center that specialised in Omegas.

It didn’t say anything about slaves, but… domestic violence was close enough. And Benny had a feeling.

He found the contact information and called the phone number.

“This is the Nest, how can we help you?” a matter of fact answered the phone.

“Yeah. My name is Benny Lafitte-Crowley. I’ve got...well.” he rubbed the back of his neck and looked at Balthazar again. “I have a friend who needs medical treatment.”

There was a moment of silence. “Friend?”

He hesitated. “...new slave?”

“Ah.” the voice sounded displeased. “Well, we will certainly do our best. When would you like to bring them by?”

“As soon as possible.” he said, relieved and trying not to be defensive. He had bought a slave – he did own another human being, however complicated the situation was.

“We have a...one o’clock opening this afternoon, will that be acceptable?”

“That will be great – that will be perfect.”

“Mm. We will see you then, Mr. Lafitte-Crowley.”

He nodded and hung up the call.

He glanced down to see that Balthazar had finished everything he had been given and was back in his resting position, and he sighed. “Do you want some more, cher?”

“No, sir. Benny – no, benny.” he stammared.

“Okay.” he said, turning back to his own food. “Uh – would you like to go back to your room?” maybe he wouldn’t have to kneel if he was alone – maybe he could relax there in his personal space.

The Omega froze and hunched down more.

He saw him move out of the corner of his eye and turned to him in concern. “Balthazar?”

“I – I will do what you want, Benny.” he sounded more pleading than certain.

Now it was Benny’s turn to freeze with indecision. “I...want you to be comfortable.”

He could see Balthazar frown at the floor.

“I want you to do what you want.” he said earnestly. “I want you to be okay.”

He swallowed, and the room was silent and tense for nearly a minute. “I...May I go back to my...room, Benny?” he asked haltingly.

“Yeah. Of course. Can you make your way back on your own?”

Balthazar nodded jerkily and got to his feet with the same grace he always had when he moved.

Benny wondered if he was always graceful – if maybe he was a dancer once. He didn’t want to think about all of that grace being beaten into him until it was part of his core – he wanted to believe that parts of Balthazar before he was broken were still there. Were still able to recover.

He realised Balthazar was still waiting, and shifted awkwardly. “You...can go?”

Balthazar nodded and quickly retreated, vanishing out of the kitchen.

Benny watched him go and tried not to worry too much.

He reminded himself they had to go shopping for better fitting clothes for Balthazar too, turning back to finish his breakfast.

Balthazar left the kitchen with carefully measured steps to not make it look like he was running. He continued walking down the hall with the same measured steps until he felt like he was far enough away. Then he let his hands drop to his side and he ran to his room. He shut the door behind him and slid into bed, pulling the blankets over him and around him. He curled up and closed his eyes and breathed shaky breaths until he felt his stomach loosen up and he could relax again.

It helped that Benny didn’t come after him. He didn’t chase him when he ran, didn’t hit him for stating a desire, didn’t punish him for wanting to be alone, didn’t hurt him for being full…

He didn’t understand. He was trying to, and the food and the sleep made it easier to think but…he didn’t understand. Benny wasn’t acting like a master! And he knew it was because Benny had never owned a slave before but...neither had Gordon, and he was perfectly capable of the horrific abuse he inflicted.

So why wasn’t Benny? What was he waiting for?

Balthazar didn’t know. He was clean now, but Benny had insisted he wasn’t going to sleep with him ever. That was a lie of course – but he still didn’t understand.

He traced his fingers over the edge of the metal cuffs welded onto his wrists and closed his eyes.

He shouldn’t be trying to understand, but he also was supposed to anticipate. He didn’t know what was allowed here, or what was a heinous crime.

He pulled the blankets over his head and sighed.

The food rested heavy in his stomach and he yawned.

He froze, listening for any approach out of habit before he remembered he was alone.

He shifted down in his blankets, and pulled the sweatshirt he was wearing up to his nose, scenting it without thinking about it.

The room was quiet except for the central air blowing through the vents, and he was warm and full.

He was asleep before he even realised it, dreaming of Benny holding him and keeping him safe.

Chapter Text

“You little bitch.”

Balthazar trembled, struggling to get off the floor and onto his knees – to get into position.

Kubrick was circling around him, and kicked him hard in the side.

He whimpered and fell onto his back.

“You pathetic, cock-sucking little bitch.”

He couldn’t think – couldn’t think of what he needed to do.

“Get on your feet.”

His stomach sank at the order when he could barely muster the strength to get to his knees, but obediently he started trying to get to his feet and stand.

“I said, get. on. Your. Feet.” Kubrick hissed, crouching down beside him.

Balthazar broke, starting to sob as he hung his head. “master I...I’m so sorry – please…”

“Please what?”

“Please punish me for disobeying you.”

He sneered and backhanded Balthazar who collapsed to the ground again. “Such a waste of air – no wonder you got sold. Too useless to make your own decisions.” he got to his feet, grabbing balthazar by the nape of the neck and starting to drag him across the room.

Balthazar went limp as soon as he was scruffed, unable to fight even if he wanted to. He felt like he couldn’t breathe, felt as if his world was closing in on him.

He dragged in a deep breath when Kubrick dropped him again, lying on the floor as he struggled to remember how to breathe on his own again.

A moment later, Kubrick clicked a chain to the cuffs on his wrist, and hit a lever to lift Balthazar up off the floor.

He keened as he was dragged to his feet, unable to support himself enough to take the weight off his shoulders. He wanted to know what was going to happen, how he was going to be punished this time. He wanted to ask for mercy, to explain that if you beat someone half to death they weren’t likely to be able to stand on their own. He wanted to promise to be good but...he wasn’t being good, was he. He wasn’t standing. He wasn’t taking or sucking dick good enough, he just wasn’t good enough. He deserved the pain – deserved the punishment-

He whimpered as he felt someone grab his chin and yank his head to look at them.

“Now you’re just getting what you deserve, cher.” Benny said coldly. “If you were good enough, I wouldn’t have to do this, would I.”

He shivered in fear and hurried to answer. “No – no master. It’s my fault – it’s your toy’s fault. Please, teach me to be-” he cried out as he was backhanded again.

“Did I tell you to speak?”

he kept quiet, and tried to double over as he was punched in the stomach.

“I asked you a question, bitch!”

“I – I’m sorry. Please – I’m so sorry-” he stammered when he got his breath back, coughing.

“Pathetic.” Benny said, stepping away.

Balthazar hung from his wrists, swaying slightly as he struggled to stay upright. He heard Benny get something from the rack, and squeezed his eyes closed.

If he pretended not to see it, maybe it would go away. Maybe it would all go away and he would be safe.

Or dead. Maybe he would be dead.

There was a crack behind him, and he screamed as the whip tore open his back. There was another crack before he even had time to draw in a breath, and another line of fire across his back. His feet scrabbled uselessly against the cement floor as he tried to get away – to go anywhere – and he could hear Benny laughing as he swung the whip again, and again, and again-

Balthazar woke up with a start, bile in his mouth and his stomach violently protesting. He barely had time to throw the covers off his head before he was vomiting, all the food he had eaten too fast coming up half digested. He froze in panic, unsure where to throw up to minimise the coming punishment, and he ended up with half of the vomit covering his front and the other half covering the blankets and the floor by the time his stomach settled again.

He stared down at himself and started crying. He picked at the ruined sweatshirt he was wearing and let his hand fall down, unsure how to even begin to clean it up.

He thought about eating it like he probably should, and gagged again, throwing up bile.

He pressed his hands to his eyes and cried in despair.

He had been clean, and fed, and had started to heal maybe. Now he wouldn’t get food again, and he would be hosed down and he was so tired…

He sniffed, looking at the window that lit up the office he was sleeping in. he stared at it until the glass seemed to disappear and it was just him and the open air. Him, and the birds, and the pollen – floating free in the breeze with no pain or sex or anything else that defined his lift now.

He was standing at the window almost without making a decision, looking out at the road that seemed to be miles below him.

He rested his head against the cool glass and sniffed again, tears still tracking down his face.

He opened the window with some effort, and stuck his head out, breathing in the fresh air.

This wasn’t an escape attempt. He didn’t want to be free – he just wanted it to be over. Heaven, hell – whatever came next, it couldn’t be worse that his life now. Maybe he would be lucky and it would just be the great void after death. Restful nothingness.

He was leaning halfway out the window now, barely holding on to the sill that kept him inside the office and off the pavement below him. The wind blew through his matted hair and he closed his eyes and let go.

“Balthazar!”

Someone grabbed him by the waist, dragging him back across the sill painfully.

“What the – are you okay?”

he crumpled in Benny’s hands, sobbing as he looked longingly at the window.

It would be gone soon, boarded up or barred so he could never use it again – if he was even allowed to stay in this room. His only chance at peace, stolen from him again.

“hey, hey – okay. I need you to breathe, cher. I need you to breathe, please. Come on, breathe with me.”

He dragged in a breath and let it out in a scream, struggling against Benny. He screamed again and against, fighting against Benny with a strength he didn’t know he had.

The hands were gone and he stumbled back, still screaming with every breath he took in.

The world was tunneling and going black, and he dimly felt himself collapse as he lost consciousness.

Benny stared at the collapsed Omega in shock for longer than he would like to admit. He didn’t know exactly what he had expected when the alarm on the window was triggered – but it certainly wasn’t….that.

He rubbed a hand over his face and sighed, grimacing at the smell of vomit in the room. Looking at Balthazar, he could see a lot of it was covering the omega, and he decided to clean him up first, and deal with his panic later.

He crossed his fingers and prayed that the doctor he was taking Balthazar to later had any ideas how to help him. Maybe they could take him in, rehabilitate him, reunite him with his family…

He made himself stop thinking about that, and focus on the moment and stop counting chickens.

He bent down and lifted up Balthazar, holding him close and ignoring how the vomit smeared on his own shirt as he held the Omega close. He carried him out of the office and down the hall to the bathroom.

He made a mental note to have Crowley order a proper bathtub as he set Balthazar down in the shower, leaning him against the wall. He crouched down beside him, carefully pulling the soiled clothes off Balthazar. He could feel when he woke up, because he immediately started helping get undressed, even as his breath sped up in panic.

“hey, cher. Nothing’s wrong – I’m not angry at you.” he said gently, knowing his scent was probably not helping Balthazar. “Can you tell me what happened?”

He sniffed and his hands moved a little before he left them lying on the floor of the shower. “I...i threw up and made a mess, Benny. I..I fought you. I...I am sorry. Benny. I am so sorry.”

He sounded like he was about to cry again and benny rubbed his arm as comfortingly as he could. He reached up and turned the water on as hot as it would safely go, testing the temp with his wrist.

Balthazar flinched violently as the water was turned on, and Benny realised with panic of his own that the Omega was definitely crying now.

“I’m not going to hurt you – I just need to clean you up.”

“yes, Benny.” he said mechanically, trembling.

He hesitated, and then carefully splashed Balthazar with the water.

He flinched and then looked at Benny with wide eyes before he caught himself and looked back at the floor.

“Is that too hot – I can-”

“It is...please.” he said helplessly, leaning into the spray.

Benny hesitated, and then left the temperature where it was, slowly running the water over Balthazar.

The omega relaxed in the heat, his eyes drifting closed as he almost seemed to forget Benny was there.

He watched him as he ran the hot water over him, willing to stay as long as Balthazar wanted.

Seeing the man in the water, relaxed with his face tilted up into the spray, was almost a glimpse of what he was before. He had a small smile on his lips, one corner tilted up more than the other, and the tension that he carried with him all the time was finally released from his posture. He was sitting up against the wall, just like the person he was, and not as the slave he was trained to be.

And Benny suddenly knew there was hope. It wouldn’t be easy, it wouldn’t be fast – but one day Balthazar would be himself again. He swore that for both of them. He would do everything to help Balthazar see himself as a human being with the same rights as everyone else, and he would keep him safe. He would find his family, and everything would be set right one day.

One day.

Balthazar suddenly started as if remembering his place, and the moment was gone.

Balthazar was going to get addicted to hot water, and he still couldn’t believe he was still being allowed to use it, even after his awful actions in the office.

He knew he would be punished for that eventually, but he didn’t want to think about that yet.

He supposed that vomit wasn’t very arousing, except for maybe a sadist – which he was reasonably sure that Benny wasn’t at least. So it made sense that before whatever happened he needed to be cleaned up.

He wondered what his punishment would be. A flogging? A caning? Maybe just a good old fashioned rape? More inventive – drugs? Whoring out?

There were so many options and he didn’t know Benny well enough to start to guess.

Or maybe...Crowley would do it? He seemed the more… well, he seemed like he would enjoy it more. And Balthazar still hadn’t paid him back for the use of his office – that was still coming.

He shivered under the hot water, wanting to ask why. He obviously wasn’t what Benny wanted in a slave – so why didn’t he let him just fall? It would have been easier than selling him, certainly easier than fixing him up – so why?

He kept his mouth shut however, not wanting to make things worse.

He swallowed, and then hesitated, unsure how to even talk to Benny when he hadn’t been addressed.

“alright – you’re pretty clean as far as I can see. How do you feel, cher?”

He nodded jerkily. “yes, mas- Benny. I am clean.”

He hummed and got up to shut the water off. “I’ve got to go get you some fresh clothes.”

Balthazar cringed at the reminder and then blinked as a towel appeared before him.

“-dry off, and I’ll be right back.”

He took the towel in confusion, before realising Benny was waiting for an answer. “yes, Benny.” he hurried to say, starting to dry himself off with the soft towel.

Benny hesitated a moment more before leaving.

Balthazar thought longingly of that window again as he dried off, of the fresh air he had breathed for the first time in months at least. He thought of the sound of cars and people and birds, and his chest tightened in wistfulness, and he took the memory and locked it away with everything he couldn’t think about it anymore or risk breaking.

He was still trying to dry his hair when the bathroom door opened again, and he jumped before he could control himself.

He automatically went to kneel on the floor, but was stopped by a hand on his elbow.

“Don’t...that’s not necessary.”

He kept his eyes on the floor, his mind feeling fuzzy as the adrenaline started to leave his system.

“Here, I got you a few more things to wear. I promise we’ll go shopping soon, cher – get you your own clothes.”

He wanted to tell him it was okay, that he was happy with the warm clothes that covered everything and hid his body from everyone’s eyes. But instead he nodded obediently. “Yes, Master.”

“Benny.”

He flinched. “Benny. Yes, benny. I’m sorry, Benny.”

The anger was in his scent again, and Balthazar hunched in on himself in renewed despair.

“Look. I...I’ll just step outside the door. You get dressed and come out when you’re ready, yeah?”

“yes, Benny.”

His master sighed, and then left the room just like he said.

Balthazar stared at the ground for a moment more before slowly lifting his head. He looked for the clothes and found them on the counter – yet another plain pair of sweats, and a pair of heavy socks on top of them.

He took the socks first, unfolding them and pulling them onto his feet. He pulled the trousers on next, covering his privates again before he pulled the sweatshirt on over his head. He wrapped his arms around himself for a moment and closed his eyes.

Everything hurt now, and he was so tired. He wanted to go to sleep – just curl up in another bundle of blankets and rest.

Of course, he probably wasn’t going to get blankets again, not after he ruined the ones he had been given.

But it was a nice dream, he thought as he opened the bathroom door.

Chapter Text

Benny closed the bathroom door gently behind him and stood in the hallway for a moment without moving. He stared at the wall in front of him and tried to parse out what had just happened.

He wasn’t exactly sure what had happened. Everything had been fine, Balthazar was looking better, and then he was just...falling out of a window.

Maybe he slipped. Maybe he wasn’t falling on purpose.

Benny bent over, putting his hands on his knees and making himself take several deep, slow breaths.

Thank god for Crowley’s permanent paranoia and the alarm system he had installed. Although, Benny wasn’t sure reality was better than what he had assumed what was happening. That split second terror when the alarm dinged on his phone, the fear that someone had come to hurt Balthazar again – that whomever Bela had been working for had decided to take a more direct route. That terror that then side-stepped into terror that he was going to have to clean Balthazar off the sidewalk. That terror that turned into confusion when Balthazar just started to scream.

He heard the bathroom door open behind him and straightened up, shoving his own feelings away to deal with later. He looked back at Balthazar, who was every inch the submissive, meek slave again. His head was bowed, and his hands were clasped behind his back again, and Benny couldn’t stop his sigh.

“Alright. I...suppose I shouldn’t leave you alone right now.”

Balthazar swallowed, but didn’t say anything.

Benny ran a hand over his head and tried to think. He suddenly remembered he had gotten vomit on his shirt, and he frowned before pulling it off carefully.

Balthazar started shivering.

“Are you cold?”

he swallowed again. “No, Benny.”

He wanted to say his name wasn’t an honorific – that it didn’t have to be tacked on to the end of every single sentence. He had a feeling it wouldn’t work, so he didn’t say anything. “Let’s clean up the office.” he said, feeling helpless, and also feeling like he wasn’t allowed to feel helpless – not compared to Balthazar.

He started walking, feeling Balthazar fall into a carefully position step behind him.

He wanted his husband. He hated to admit it, but he wanted to just fix this, and wanted Crowley to help.

Of course, Crowley was helping – as aloof as he seemed. And Crowley’s brand of love tended to be caustic at best – hardly something that would help Balthazar right then.

But Benny felt like he was swimming alone on the open ocean, and hadn’t the foggiest idea where to start swimming.

They reached the office and the first thing Benny did was shut the window. When he turned back, Balthazar had knelt on the floor and was scooping up a handful of vomit with shaking hands.

“Hey – cher, what are you-” he broke off when Balthazar went to bring it to his mouth. “Stop!”

Balthazar froze obediently, and Benny hated himself a little more.

He softened his voice and tried to make his scent as calm as possible. “Cher you...I don’t know what you’ve had to do before, but we’re just gonna take everything to the laundry. You don’t...you aren’t in trouble.”

Balthazar stared at the floor with a blank expression, vomit dripping off the side of his hand.

Benny walked back and crouched down beside him. He grabbed one of the cleaner blankets, taking Balthazar’s hand and gently wiping it off. “I’m sorry, cher.”

Balthazar blinked rapidly, but still didn’t say anything, letting Benny move him wherever he wanted.

Benny sighed again when Balthazar was clean and he looked around the office and makeshift bedroom. “Go ahead and sit over there.” he pointed at the chair, and then remembered the Omega’s reaction the night before at dinner. “Or kneel. Whatever makes you comfortable.”

“yes, Benny.” he said quietly with the same blank expression he had before. He got up from the floor in a fluid movement that Benny still couldn’t figure out how it worked so gracefully, and he moved to the chair Benny had indicated. As expected, he knelt down beside it, folding himself into a slave’s resting position.

Benny rubbed his hand over his face and shook his head.

Then he started cleaning up the mess.

******

Balthazar was exhausted suddenly, the adrenaline crash hitting him all at once. He was having trouble staying tethered to his body, and he wished Benny would just get the punishment over already while he was disasociated.

But he wasn’t that lucky, and he was sent to the corner to wait until he was worth paying attention to again.

Balthazar stared at the floor, blinking slowly and feeling like he had been drugged.

He wondered if he had been drugged – if while he had been unconscious, Benny had injected him with something.

He stiffened, scared suddenly.

He hated the drugs. Hated the helplessness, and the humiliation, and the things he did while he was drugged. He hated how some drugs would make him beg for things he never wanted, and he hated how other drugs made him so sluggish that he was little more than a living doll. He hated how some drugs were a synthetic form of scruffing that left him helpless and limp and open to whatever his masters wanted. He hated how some drugs mimicked his heat, and left him begging for any sort relief that he was never going to get because they just liked to see him desperate.

A drop of water splashed on the floor under his face, and he realised he was crying again.

He was pathetic. He was a worthless piece of trash, a broken toy that no one wanted.

No one but Benny, and even Benny would get sick of him sooner or later. Sooner rather than later.

And yet Benny was the one on his knees cleaning up the vomit on the floor. Benny was the one gathering up the soiled blankets and wrapping them up so the vomit was on the inside. Benny was the one carrying the basket out of the room and coming back in a few minutes with a new shirt on and...more blankets?

Balthazar realised he was watching his master, and jerked his gaze back down to the floor where it was supposed to be before he got reminded to do so.

Maybe the blankets were for Benny – to make a soft surface before he took what he wanted from Balthazar.

He wondered what he wanted. He wondered what sort of sex Benny liked. He wondered whether Benny or Crowley topped. He wondered what they would do with him.

He could imagine all sorts of horrors, some that had happened, and some that he just hadn’t experienced yet.

But he still didn’t know Benny yet. The alpha hadn’t done anything he had expected yet and...he didn’t know what to do with that. He didn’t know how to act for that – didn’t know what it cost yet. He had to know the cost, had to know what to expect. It was the only way he had survived so long, knowing what was expected of him and doing his best to fulfill it.

Although ‘survival’ was perhaps stretching it.

He thought longingly of warm baths, and picked locks, and people who cared; and he thought about a window and a type of freedom.

There was a gentle hand on his shoulder and he jumped.

“Sorry – that’s on me.” Benny said apologetically, crouching beside him. “Just checking in to see how you are doing, cher.”

“What would you have of me, Benny?”

He grimaced, and Balthazar struggled to think of what he was supposed to say – tried to figure out how he had messed up.

“Nothing. Just – well. We have to leave to see the doctor. Get you checked out.”

The world dropped out from beneath him and he understood suddenly. Benny just wasn’t sure how far he could go – that was why he hadn’t done anything yet. He hadn’t had his posession inspected, and didn’t know where the slave’s limits were. He didn’t know how much he could hurt it before it died, and didn’t want to lose his toy too early.

And Balthazar realised his thinking was slipping into third person, but all he could focus on was the panic.

Of course this wasn’t going to last – nothing good ever lasted. The kindness, the blessedly hot water, the fresh food, the blankets, the solitary room…

He didn’t deserve anything good anymore.

“Yes, Benny.”

He was a pleasure slave. His body was his master’s to use. That was his purpose now – that was all that mattered. The sooner he made his fucking peace with that and murdered what was left of his soul, the sooner he could fade away and stop registering the pain and fear and humiliation that was his existence.

Benny was frowning again, and Balthazar could scent something like concern in the air.

He didn’t know what he would be concerned again, and decided his nose wasn’t working.

“Can you stand?”

He dragged in a breath and nodded. He stood up, keeping his head bowed as he waited.

Benny got to his feet with much less grace and nodded. “I don’t have shoes so the socks will have to do – but tell me if it hurts?”

He tried to ignore the dread twisting in his stomach and nodded. “Yes, Benny.”

There was anger in the scent now, and his stomach dropped. “I – I’m sorry. Benny. Please – I’m so sorry-”

“Ain’t nothing to apologise for.” he said sharply. “It...I’m not angry at you.” he said in a gentler tone.

He didn’t believe him, but he nodded anyway.

What else could he do?

Benny watched him for a moment more and Balthazar tensed, and then his master seemed to let it go, turning to leave the office.

Balthazar fell into step behind him, keeping his eyes trained on the floor and Benny’s feet, watching the hardwood of the office turn into the carpet of the hallway and then the tile of the kitchen and then the hardwood of something new, and then the door opened and they stepped through onto hardwood again. They paused for a moment as Benny locked the door, and then they were walking again and they were in the lift and the doors closed and suddenly the world was closing in on him.

He folded himself to the floor properly, trying to ignore the sickening feeling of the lift going downstairs.

He wondered how many floors up they were – and then the doors opened, and Benny was reaching down to pull him up.

He got up quickly before Benny could yank him off the floor, swallowing his apologies for being slow. In public, slaves were seen and not heard – and preferably not seen either. He knew the rules. He could apologise later if Benny would allow him to.

For now, he kept his mouth shut and kept his pleas locked inside his throat.

They were crossing a tiled floor now, and Balthazar could hear other people walking and talking around them. He could scent several alphas and even a few omegas, and he wondered how many slaves were in the building. Wondered if the place was classy enough to have its own dedicated punishment floor. Mistress Sands had lived in a place like that. All classy flats and elegant settings, and a concrete basement to keep the blood off the hardwood and carpets.

He shivered at the memories that were both literally and physically carved into him before he could stop himself. He tensed for a moment, but Benny didn’t say or do anything except open the doors and gesture him through, and he relaxed for the moment. He stepped out onto the sidewalk and froze.

He...he was outside. There wasn’t a leash, he wasn’t cuffed, he...he was outside.

He whimpered.

The dirty sidewalk under his feet seemed to swirl and he tried to think – tried to make himself move.

He folded down to the ground, pressing his forehead to the sidewalk in a show of surrender.

He wasn’t trying to escape – he would never run again. He would never ever try – he learned. He promised, he learned. Please, he wasn’t trying to escape. Please, master, I would never try. I know my place – your slave knows their place. Please take your toy back. Please don’t hurt me – I wasn’t trying to run-

*****

Benny stared at the babbling Balthazar in horror. He had opened the doors of the apartment complex for Balthazar, not sure how much he could see with his gaze perpetually focused on the floor; and when he had turned to lead the way to his truck, Balthazar was on his knees in the middle of a panic attack.

He was selfishly guilty that Balthazar’s voice was barely audible, so no one else heard the desperate begging the Omega was doing.

He crouched down beside him. “Hey. Hey, Balthazar.” He hesitated and then put his hand on the Omega’s shoulder, feeling him shaking under his touch. “Can you hear me? You’re okay. Nothing is wrong – you aren’t doing anything wrong.”

“Please, please, please, please, please-”

He winced, and weighed the likelihood of getting through to Balthazar here in the open.

The open.

Balthazar broke down when they came outside.

His stomach twisted in the realisation and he closed his eyes. “I am...so sorry, cher.” He siad, before just picking the omega up in his arms.

Balthazar didn’t fight him, still shaking, and Benny hurried to where his truck was parked. He braced Balthazar against the truck as he opened the back door, and then he maneuvered the Omega into the back seat, lying him down on the bench as he did when he brought him home.

Balthazar seemed to come back to himself a little, and slid off the bench before Benny could buckle him in place. He knelt on the floor and seemed to calm down.

Benny considered trying to get him back on the bench – on trying to get him to properly buckle up.

But Balthazar was still grey with fear, and Benny decided it wasn’t worth it and that he could just drive a little slower.

He shut the door and went around to the driver’s seat, climbing into the truck. He turned the vehicle on and slowly pulled out, glancing back down to check on Balthazar one more time before he turned the GPS on his phone on, and started driving.

Chapter Text

Balthazar had recovered enough to walk into the clinic on his own by the time Benny parked in the front lot. They entered the nondescript building together without another panic attack, and Benny led the way up to the reception desk.

“Lafitte-Crowley. We had an appointment at one?”

The receptionist checked her computer and then nodded. She pulled out a packet of papers and handed them to Benny with a pen. “Take a seat and fill this out.” she said flatly.

He nodded, turning to find a seat. He made h is way to a set in the corner, sitting down.

Balthazar predictably folded himself to the floor by his feet, and Benny stifled a sigh at the action.

He opened the packet and couldn’t hide that sigh at the amount of questions that were on the page. He gripped his pen and started to fill out what he could. The questions about Balthazar were...mostly blank. Benny didn’t know what his allergies were, or when his last heat was, or even if he needed any medications.

He rubbed his forehead, feeling overwhelmed and glanced over at the omega who seemed dazed. “...Balthazar?”

He flinched and tried to assume a more correct position.

“Can...can you read?”

He was still for a moment, and then nodded. “Yes, Benny.” He sounded confused.

“Can...Look. I;m really sorry but I don’t know anything about you – can...you fill this out?”

Balthazar was frowning at the floor, but nodded.

He hesitated a moment more, and then handed the packet and the pen over to him.

Balthazar sat up, taking the items with shaking hands. He settled back on his heels and Benny wanted to tell him to sit on a chair, wanted to ask him to please make himself comfortable. But he let him stay kneeling on the floor and read over his shoulder as he slowly filled out the paperwork.

Allergies, none. Gender, male. Sex, Omega. Medical history…

Balthazar was shaking, but he slowly started filling it out, taking up the page and the margins. He started with family history – a few mental illnesses, but otherwise largely healthy. What made Benny’s heart sink was the illnesses and broken bones and general torture he listed afteward.

When he moved on to the next questions, Benny wanted to punch something.

Age, 34.

“What?” Benny said, surprised.

Balthazar flinched, his hands shaking more. “I...I am thirty-four, Benny.”

“You...you’re not.” he said softly. “You’re thirty-six.”

Balthazar stared at the paperwork, and then slowly started to scribble out his age and correct it.

A tear dropped on the paper and Balthazar jerked, brushing his face.

“...it’s okay.” Benny said on instinct. “You’re not in trouble, cher.”

“Mr. Lafitte-Crowley?”

He looked up at the sound of his name.

Dr. Lenore Benson was standing in from of him with a blank expression. “if you will come with me.” She said, turning to leave.

He got up, and reached down to help Balthazar to his feet again.

Balthazar was already standing, falling into step behind him and clutching the paperwork close as they followed the doctor to an exam room.

Benny looked back at Balthazar, trying to think of how to make him relax – to look less like he was made of brittle ice.

“What is….the omega’s name?” she asked, closing the door behind them.

“His papers said he was called Balthazar.” he gently took the paperwork from him and handed them to her. “I don’t...know much about him, really. I bought him two days ago at an auction – I just...I couldn’t leave him.”

she hummed and flipped through the paperwork, her face carefully blank. Benny could scent that she was an alpha too, and he tried to stand close to Balthazar – hoping that maybe it had sunk in enough that he at least was not going to hurt him. Hoping that he knew he wouldn’t let anyone else hurt him either.

He could tell when she reached the part that listed Balthazar’s horrific medical history, as her hands clenched around the paper and wrinkled it.

She took a deep breath and put the paperwork aside, looking at him fully. “this is more than a bit out of my usual wheelhouse, you understand.”

Benny looked at Balthazar who looked much smaller than he was, hunched in on himself as he stood next to Benny. “I don’t know where else to go. I don’t know what else to do. I just...he needs help.”

“And you’re the one to do it?” she asked without any emotion.

He sensed it was a test, and hoped he answered correctly: “right now I’m the only one who wanted to. But I’m not giving up on him – not now, not ever.”

She eyed him. “Why not?”

He stiffened and glared back at her. “Because he’s a fucking human being, being sold like a piece of furniture.” he snapped.

Balthazar hunched further in on himself, and Benny took a deep breath, trying to calm his scent.

Lenore eyed him, and then smiled a little. “Sorry. We got off on the wrong foot here, I can see.”

“...I’m just trying to help him.”

“I can see that. And...I wish you the best. Whatever I can do – I’ll help.”

“Thank you.” He said sincerely.

She nodded, and grabbed a pair of gloves. “Balthazar, I’m not going to hurt you, okay? I just need to...make sure you’re okay. Make sure you’re healthy.”

Balthazar got smaller, making a noise in the back of his throat.

“Can you get on the table?”

Balthazar stepped closer to Benny – and further away from the table – without seeming to realise it.

Benny frowned. “Cher?”

She hesitated. “Can….have you tried giving him orders?”

He stiffened. “What? No – of course not!”

she looked sympathetic. “I get that you mean well, but…it’s not going to be a cut and dry process of healing. It never is.” she sighed. “Trauma is...it’s not a straight line of healing – sometimes you have to meet them where they’re at.”

He had a sinking feeling about where she was going.

She nodded apologetically at him, and then took a deep breath before speaking to Balthazar sternly. “Balthazar. Get on the table.”

The omega started shaking and he leaned towards Benny helplessly before he forced himself to move to the table. He sat on the edge and then laid down on the table.

Both alphas watched him in confusion, watching him stare at the ceiling with tears in his eyes and a face that was barely hiding his terror and sickness.

And it hit them both at the same time.

“no – No!” Lenore hurried to his side. “No – sit up. No, nothing is going to happen.”

Benny was already helping him sit up. “You – no, cher. Nothing like that is ever going to happen to you ever again.”

Lenore looked as sick as Benny felt. “You...oh my god.”

Now it was Benny’s turn to be sympathetic.

There were still tears in Balthazar’s eyes, but he had relaxed a little bit – or Benny thought he had.

Lenore took a steadying breath and finished pulling on her gloves. She took the blood pressure cuff out of the basket and put it on Balthazar’s arms. “Relax – just keep your hand by your side.”

The omega kept his head ducked.

“why doesn’t he have a scent?”

“Scent suppressors from the auction.” He was suddenly overwhelmed by everything that had and would happen. “They’re supposed to wear off soon.

She nodded. “ah. Yes – they usually last a week. A few patients have taken them to...hide their designation. They have options for Alphas too.” she said. “Your blood pressure and pulse are good enough – well, they’re actually high, but given you’re terrified…” she trailed off. “I’d like to take some blood, Balthazar. Is that okay?”

Balthazar blinked. “yes, ma’am?”

Benny winced.

She just nodded, rolling up his sleeve, stopping when she saw the cuff welded onto his wrist. She frowned, taking his hand gently and turning it from side to side. She gently tried to turn it, stopping when Balthazar flinched. “You have got to get these off.”

Benny nodded. “yeah – of course.”

“I know someone – Ash. I’ll give you his number. And I’ll send you home with a list of suppplies – his skin is probably rubbed raw under these-” she pressed her lips together in anger, and Balthazar whimpered. “...I’m sorry, Balthazar. I am not angry at you.” she said gently.

He didn’t look convinced, and Benny watched helplessly.

“do you have any help? Anyone to help with him?”

“My husband.”

“You’re married? Oh, that’s good – that should help.”

“He’s an alpha too,” he said wryly.

“...oh. That might be less helpful. Helpful for you – you will need the support – but….”

“yeah.”

they both watched Balthazar for a moment, and then she started rolling up his sleeve again. She frowned at some of the cuts she saw and finally stopped. “I’m...I’m going to have to take off his shirt. I need...if he has more injuries I want to treat them before they get infected.”

Balthazar started shaking again and Benny just wanted to wrap him in safety until he believed he was safe now. “...she’s just a doctor, Balthazar. She isn’t going to do anything.”

She looked apologetic, but started helping Balthazar out of the sweatshirt.

As soon as she started pulling the shirt over his head, Balthazar wiggled out of it. His heard was pounding in his chest and he could barely hear anything over the blood roaring in his ear. Locked in a room with two alphas, he knew what was coming. Doctor visits only ended in one thing: showing off his skills. And he had a lot of skills.

He hadn’t noticed that in the paperwork – the usual listing of his skills. He had nearly laughed at the ‘are you sexually active’ question when he saw it. Of course he was. He always was. Held down, tied down, forced again and again and again and again-

There was a prick in his arm and he cringed.

Now it was the drugs. Now they’d make him senseless and helpless and He wasn’t going to fight – he wouldn’t dare fight. He knew better.

But he kept his mouth shut and let them do what they wanted.

“-have to know, he isn’t just going to bounce back, no matter how kind you are.”

He wasn’t going to bounce back? What were they planning? What were they going to do to him?

“You’ll need to give him structure, rules. You have to lay out what you expect.”

“But I don’t expect anything – I don’t what anything. Especially not from him.”

“he doesn’t know that. Especially as it’s been..what?”

It had been ten years. Ten years. He...he had lost track of time. He had lost an entire two years somewhere along the way and he….ten years. He was thirty-six now.

Ten years wasn’t much longer than eight – not really. He was still a slave, he was still going to die a slave, and no one cared. But...somehow. Somehow knowing that he had lost track of time when he thought he was doing so well…. He wasn’t even sure how he had lost track of time – he still remembered his birthday, could still do math reasonably well. He...he just….

There was some sense of horror in the reality that he had been so out of it that he had lost two years.

He tried to focus on what was going on around him again – tried not to listen to the chaos that was in his head.

“-Needs structure. Needs a job – it will help. Having structure, knowing what to expect and what is expected – it helps trauma recovery. Just...I imagine the structure he is used to isn’t something you plan on continuing.”

“what, being punished for every single thing he ever does?” Benny sounded annoyed. “No. I hadn’t planned on it.” there was silence for a moment, and Benny spoke again, sounding tired. “Is there anything I can do? Medically?”

“Get the cuffs off. Get the collar off if you can – the skin is pretty raw there too. Change and clean his bandages often – and food. Feed him. Start off with small, soft meals many times a day, and build up from there.” She finished taping a bandage to his back. “don’t let him bolt it – he will just end up throwing it back up.”

Balthazar flinched at the memory.

She squeezed his shoulder, and Balthazar froze obediently.

There was silence again, and then the doctor moved away. A moment later, he could hear the clacking of computer keys.

Balthazar tried to take a deep breath. He tried to tell himself that the doctor hadn’t hurt him yet. That she hadn’t done anything out of ordinary for a normal doctor’s visit. She hadn’t even told him to beg for her, to show her how thankful he was for her kindness.

He didn’t even think he had been drugged. He had somehow gone the whole visit without being fondled or being drugged and he still felt on the verge of a panic attack. All she had done was treat and bandage his injuries that surely didn’t need it, talk to Benny about his care, and he was still so pathetic as to be scared. He should be grateful – he should be on his knees begging to be allowed to thank them for their kindness, not trembling like a leaf.

His sweatshirt reappeared under his nose and he took it mechanically, unable to stop waiting for the other shirt to job. He pulled it over his head, settling a little as he was once again fully dressed.

“-blood test will come back in a few days. I recommend doing something about the hair soon to avoid a problem with lice or a skin condition but...with food and rest he should recover.”

“Alright.” Benny said, the scent of anger and disappointment thick in the air from both alphas.

“I’ll send a few scripts over when the blood tests come back – I’m sure he’s deficient in more than one vitamin.”

“You should take him home – let him rest.” she said. “This is probably a lot for him.”

“If...I’ll call. I’m sure.”

There was silence, and Balthazar didn’t know how she answered – if she answered. What was Benny calling about? Was he already lining up clients for him? Was she going to come over to use him after he rested? Or after the blood tests came back clean? Was she going to punish him?”

There was a hand on his elbow and he flinched.

“We’re going home, cher.” Benny said gently.

He slid off the table, folding his hands behind his back.

“Thank you so much, Dr. Benson.”

“Just call me Lenore. It’s literally what you pay me to do. It’s...the least I can do.”

There was silence for a moment and then Benny was moving.

They were leaving the exam room, and leaving the foyer, and then they were outside and walking to the truck and he wasn’t getting yelled at or dragged around or slapped; and he climbed into the back of the truck and folded himself down to the ground.

There was fresh disappointment in the air, and Balthazar didn’t know how to explain that he didn’t know what else to do besides what he was trained in. So he stayed silent, pressed himself to the floor, and let his mind wander as the vehicle started moving.

the drive home was uneventful, and Benny was able to get Balthazar all the way back up to the flat without any more breakdowns. He let the door close behind it and leaned against it for a moment, exhausted.

“I’m mighty sorry, cher – I’m not the right person for this job but…” he was the only one he had.

He had so much to think about – so much to do. He had to take care of the cuffs, had to do something with his hair, had to get him clothes… Had to deal with the ramifications of Balthazar’s reaction to the exam room, and the revelations of the list of medical history he had listed, and the fact Balthazar hadn’t even known his age...

Balthazar stood beside him silently.

Benny dragged in a breath and straightened up. “Alright. Let’s make you some food, cher”

Balthazar made a jerky movement, and then stilled again.

“Just a little – doctor’s orders.” he said wryly. “Gotta work up to big meals again.” he kicked off his shoes and started walking towards the kitchen, feeling Balthazar fall into step beside him. “chicken soup sound good, cher?”

there was silence, and he wondered if Balthazar was going to even answer, until he finally did: “Yes, Benny.”

He nodded, stepping into the kitchen.

“have a good outing?” Crowley asked.

Benny relaxed a little at the sight of his husband, glad he was home early. “You’re a sight for sore eyes.” he said, stepping around the island and kissing Crowley.

“Maybe I should leave for my daily job more often if this is the greeting I get in return.” he said sarcastically as he continued tossing his salad.

Benny rolled his eyes. “I took him to the doctor.”

“Oh?” he said pouring dressing over his salad.

“We need to...give him structure. Somehow. Give him rules.” Benny knew his disgust was colouring his scent and made an effort to control it again. “Says the suppressant will wear off in a couple of days.”

“ah yes. That is what I am looking forward to.”

Benny slapped his arm and looked at him disapprovingly.

“that was unnecessary.”

“He doesn’t know that.” he hissed.

Crowley looked back at the doorway where Balthazar was still waiting quietly. “About that…” he took a bite of salad, and then stepped away, leaving the kitchen.

Benny frowned in confusion and went to fetch the emergency cans of chicken noodle soup from the pantry. When he came back, Crowley was carrying a large pillow.

“Here. Balthazar. Kneel on this.”

the omega immediately folded to the floor, his knees cushioned by the pillow.

“This is yours. You are not to kneel if you do not have this pillow to kneel on.” Crowley said sternly.

Balthazar was nodding quickly. “yes, master. Thank you, Master.”

Crowley looked disgusted and walked back to Benny. “that is…”

Benny was looking at him with a soft smile. He wrapped his arm around Crowley’s waist and pulled him close to kiss him deeply. “You’re a fucking genius, cher.”

“Of course I am.” he said with a sniff. “are you making that heinous soup?”

He sighed. “He...i fed him too much and he threw it up.”

Balthazar flinched on the ground, starting to shake.

Benny glanced at him in concern. “I cleaned it up, but Lenore says to feed him several small meals a day.”

“Do we need to get a nanny?” he joked, picking up his salad to start eating it again.

He rolled his eyes. “I’ll just stay home, and I’ll work on the weekends when you can stay home.”

“...excuse me? Do I look like a nursemaid to you?”

“You’d be handsome in a nurse uniform.” he said with a smirk.

Crowley glared at him. “don’t make me stab you.”

Benny chuckled and turned to start cooking the soup.

“we will...negotiate the weekends.” Crowley said.

“Will we?”

“Or I will tie you to the bed.”

“I could be convinced…”

“see? Negotiating.”

Benny shook his head fondly at him and turned the stove on. He put the pan of soup on, and then went to fill a glass with cold water.

He carried it to Balthazar, setting it down in front of him. “Drink this. Slowly, please.” he said gently.

The omega obediently picked it up and started sipping the water.

Benny watched him for a moment and then trudged back to Crowley.

“...are you alright, pet?”

He nodded quietly. “He tried to jump out of the window today.” he said in a soft voice.

Crowley processed that. “Benjamin…”

“He’s fine now. I just...I don’t know if I can leave him alone and…” he leaned against the counter and watched the soup.

“we can find someone else to help him. You don’t owe him anything.”

“No.” he said sharply, and then softened his tone when Balthazar flinched. “No. We...we can’t. We...we’re in this together now. We have to be there for him.”

“We?”

Benny looked at him in amusement. “Oh. You’re saying you want me to do this all on my own?”

“...no. You will probably fuck it up.”

He laughed a little, and leaned up against his husband. “...so we can order him to kneel on a pillow – can we order him to stop taking orders?”

“this isn’t a fairy tale – I doubt it’s that simple.”

“Yeah, I know…”

Balthazar set the empty glass down and clasped his hands behind his back.

“Start small.” Crowley advised. “Start with a pillow and….maybe a proper bed. Work up to not taking orders.”

“That’s what the doctor said.”

“Oh?”

He nodded. “What if...what if we can’t help him?”

“he is still alive, so there is still a chance.” he said plainly. “Perhaps start with clothes.”

“And a haircut.”

Crowley grimaced and nodded. “Those locks are too far gone.”

“yeah.” he glanced over at the soup that had started to boil, and took it off the heat.

They would figure it out, one day at a time.

Chapter Text

Balthazar stared at the red cushion under his knees. It was a large cushion – it looked like it had been pulled off a couch or an ottoman. It was comfortable under him – under his knees and shins and all of the way to his feet. Every bone that had rough callouses on it from his constant kneeling on hard or sharp surfaces was supported on the cushion and he didn’t understand.

He had to keep it. Had to kneel on it. He had to make sure he carried it with him everywhere. It was the first order he had been given from his new masters, the first concrete thing he had been told, and he had to do it. Had to be good. He didn’t understand the order but...it wasn’t his place to understand, was it. It was just his place to obey.

And he could obey. He knew he could.

He would prove it.

There was a bowl on the ground in front of the cushions and he jerked himself back to awareness. He blinked at the bowl, and blinked again as a spoon was placed in the bowl.

Benny crouched down beside him. “Are you okay?”

He took a quick breath and nodded, scenting the other alpha in the room still. “yes, Benny. Thank you.”

There was still disappointment in Benny’s scent but the alpha seemed willing to let it go. “Eat your soup. Please. Slowly.”

“yes Benny.” he said, quickly picking up the bowl. It was warm, and it smelled delicious and like safety, and tears welled in his eyes again. He felt the alpha watching him, and took a bite, sipping it slowly.

There were rules finally. Kneel on the cushion. Eat slowly. Things he could do, things he understood.

He dared to hope that maybe he could have a chance here. That maybe he could be good enough.

He wanted to understand. Against all sense and against all training he wanted to understand. He wanted to understand why they did the things they did but…nothing he could think of made sense.

So he sipped his soup and tried to just...be. To take the moment and just enjoy the respite.

He had no idea how long it was going to last, but he was sure it wouldn’t be long enough.

“You’re tired.”

Benny didn’t even bother looking at his husband, just nodding.

Crowley leaned against the counter, watching him. “Long day?”

“There is just...there’s so much left to do and…”

Crowley took his hand and turned him towards him, turning him away from Balthazar. “Go to bed.”

“I can’t yet. I-”

“Go. To bed.” He said firmly.

“Be careful!” Benny said, glancing back towards Balthazar who hadn’t seemed to noticed.

Crowley sighed. “If you don’t march yourself to bed right now, I swear-”

“You’ll what, spank me?” he said dryly.

“don’t tempt me.” Crowley said. “go to bed. I’ll finish up here and be in shortly.”

“I don’t know… I mean – should we, cher? With...him?”

“I’m not giving up sex just because you made an unplanned purchase.” Crowley said sharply, and then softened. “Just...let me take care of you.”

Benny hesitated. “...it feels like…”

“You can’t deprive yourself out of guilt. You haven’t done anything.” he pointed out.

He sighed. “No. You’re right, cher…” He ran a hand over his head. “Alright – I’m going to bed now. I’ll be waiting.” he smiled a little.

Crowley smirked, pulling him down to kiss him deeply. “I love you, sentimental fool.”

Benny snorted and trudged out of the kitchen. He hesitated by Balthazar, and made himself keep walking. He knew Crowley – knew that for all his sharp edges he wasn’t going to hurt the Omega. Right now, he might even be able to help him. All Benny had managed to do was work him into a panic several times over.

He left the kitchen and walked down the hallway and opened the door to their bedroom and sank onto the bed. He bent down to untie his boots, kicking them off and setting them up beside the nightstand. He stared at the floor for a moment more before standing up and pulling off his shirt. He grabbed his pyjama trousers from under his pillow and undid his fly, dropping his own trousers before pulling on the pyjamas. He pulled the duvet back and got into the bed, pulling the covers back up over him and leaning against the headboard.

He shouldn’t feel this helpless. He shouldn’t feel so burdened. The worst thing he had in his life was having to hide his sexuality while in the navy, and really. Compared to the bare minimum that Balthazar had experienced…

“would you snap out of it?”

He looked up and saw Crowley already dressed in pyjamas, and realised he must have been more lost in thought than he thought. He smiled ruefully. “sorry.”

He got into bed. “I ordered him to leave the window alone. Ordered him to sleep. That should keep him safe until we can bolt the window shut or something.”

He winced.

“i’m not letting him swan dive out of our property because you have a soft side.” Crowley said, irritated. “the paperwork alone…”

Benny chuckled. “ah. Right. The important things.” He relaxed a little.

“...sex?”

“what, no foreplay?” he said, smiling a little as he turned toward his husband.

Crowley shrugged unrepentently. “I don’t have all the time in the world.”

Benny snorted. “Oh that’s not true. We just don’t have compatible foreplay desires.” he reached out, pulling Crowley towards him, kissing him. “I suppose we could skip it.”

He hummed into the kiss, sliding his hand around the back of Benny’s neck. “glad you see reason. Top or bottom?”

benny thought about it, sliding a hand down Crowley’s chest and reaching into his trousers, grasping his cock and slowly stroking it.

Crowley pressed against him, his eyes darkening.

He twisted him, pushing Crowley to the side and rolling over to straddle him.

“Seems you made up your mind.” Crowley said with a rough voice.

Benny smirked. “I think I’ll give you a taste of your own medicine.”

Crowley tried to look annoyed, but Benny was slowly unbuttoning his pyjama top, and grinding against his hard-on, and he was having trouble thinking. “Moron…”

“Your moron.” he said, bending down to take Crowley’s mouth in another kiss as he slid him out of his pyjama shirt. “what did I ever do to deserve you…”

“Had a fucking delicious arse.” he breathed.

He hummed, sliding down Crowley’s body. He started working the pyjama trousers off as he sucked on and then bit one of Crowley’s nipples.

He hissed, trying to help kick his pants off. “would you – ah….would you get on with it?”

“Oh no. No I think I need a long period of decompression.” he said, pinching and tugging on the other nipple as he spoke.

Crowley groaned. “You’re a bloody sadist.”

Benny shrugged and finally managed to get Crowley completely naked. He looked him over, taking a deep breath at the sight of Crowley’s thick cock, and shook his head in appreciation. He slid further down the bed, in between his husband’s legs and positioned himself to swallow as much of Crowley’s cock as he could.

Crowley made a strangled noise, his hips bucking up into Benny’s throat. “Jesus fucking-” his hands went down, gripping Benny’s short hair. “Don’t stop.” he ordered.

Benny chuckled around the cock he was sucking, and Crowley moaned. He didn’t say anything else, just focused on giving him the best blowjob he could at the moment. He bobbed his head, and sucked on the head, and swirled his tongue around every ridge he could find, and when he could feel Crowley tensing up to cum, he pulled off and sat up. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, smirking as he watched his husband pant.

“...I fucking hate you right now.”

“How many times did you edge me the last time?” he asked innocently.

Crowley narrowed his eyes at him, the thick arousal in his scent and the way his cock jumped belying his irritation. “...too many.”

“I think it was twelve times.” he said cheerfully.

“for fucks sake – I tied you down at least!”

he shrugged and leaned in. “If you touch yourself or cum before I say you can…” he kissed him again. “I’ll put a cock ring on you for the rest of the night and spank you until you cum dry.”

Crowley shivered, moaning into the kiss.

Benny grinned and slid back down to settle between Crowley’s legs.

Crowley spread them willingly, putting an arm behind his head so he could watch Benny work. “Just remember that turnabout is fair play.”

“I know.” he said simply. He reached into the pocket by the footboard that held the lube and pulled out the bottle. He spread Crowley’s legs open further and poured a generous amount of lube over his fingers. He met Crowley’s eyes and slowly pressed one finger into him.

Crowley, breathed out slowly, pressing down on the slim intrusion. “You’d better make this good.”

“My goal is to make your silver tongue break.”

He shivered.

“I want to break you so thoroughly that every smart remark you have on the tip of your tongue is out of your reach again.” he pumped his finger in and out of him, staring into his eyes. “I want to take you to the edge again and again, just the way you love.”

“I don’t love it-” he broke off as Benny pressed in a second finger.

“Just a little too fast, just the way you like.” Benny said with a smirk.

“You little…” his eyes fell closed and his head fell back as he just enjoyed the sensations for a moment.

He was quiet, content to slowly work Crowley’s arsehole open and watch as his husband slowly relaxed into the sensations. He worked him open slowly, knowing Crowley very rarely could cum untouched, and knowing that pumping in and out of him and stretching him out to nearly three fingers was just an experience in edging and nothing close enough to get him off.

Crowley didn’t complain, breathing heavily and letting Benny take the reins, like they each did when the other topped. His skin was flushed, and rolled his hips down to meet Benny’s fingers.

When Benny judged he was stretched out enough, he bent down to swallow his cock again, reaching inside his arse until he found his prostate and stroking that in time with his blowjob.

Crowley groaned and cursed, his hands fisting in the sheets.

Benny let his cock slide into his throat, cutting off his breath for a moment.

Crowley arched off the bed, and Benny suddenly pulled off him. He sat back, not touching his husband at all.

“Fuck!” he reached for his cock, and then forced himself to put his hands by his head, trying to breathe through it as the edge faded away. “You fucking little…”

“You love me.” he said, rubbing his ankle soothingly.

Crowley slowly relaxed again, his cock still achingly hard. He slumped back onto the bed with a shiver. “...okay. Okay, go ahead.”

“are you sure you want me to?” he asked, already reaching to stroke his cock.

“don’t push your luck.” he growled.

Benny laughed and sat forward. He played with Crowley’s nipples for a moment with both hands, before letting go of one to stroke his cock.

His own cock was straining against his trousers, and he knew they were already wet with precum. He bent down to kiss his husband as he stroked him faster, biting his lip before sitting back just as Crowley reached the edge.

“Before I let you cum, I’m going to fuck you.” he said conversationally. “I’m going to pin your knees to your chest, and I’m going to pound into your ass until you know who it belongs to.”

“Oh yes…” Crowley breathed. “I’ll return the favour.”

“Will you?’ he slid his fingers back into his arse, and Crowley moaned as he brushed against his prostate again. “I look forward to it.” he said honestly. “the nights you pin me to the mattress and forget everything but your name are some of the best I’ve ever had.” he breathed, his own cock jumping in his trousers. “Fuck…”

Crowley smirked knowingly, breathing heavily and looking seconds away from coming untouched himself.

“Ever cum like this?”

“You – you know I haven’t, pet.”

“Maybe we should try.”

Crowley’s eyes widened and he stared at him.

Benny swallowed and then pulled his hands out of his arse, leaning forward to kiss it. “fuck it I just...I can’t,” he breathed, shoving down his pyjama trousers.

Crowley wrapped his arms around Benny’s neck. “Fuck me like you mean it.”

He moaned, bracing himself over Crowley and sliding his own cock into him as slowly as he could.

Both alphas shivered as he bottomed out, taking a moment to settle when he was fully in him.

Benny slowly started thrusting, pulling nearly all of the way out and slamming back in.

Crowley arched off the bed with a cry of pleasure, digging his nails into Benny’s back. “Oh yes-!”

“Fucking perfect. Fucking love you. You’re just...don’t deserve you.” he grunted as he fucked him. “You’re so handsome, so perfect...couldn’t ask for anything better...feel so good.” he started stroking his cock. “Cum, cum with me.”

they both tensed up together, cumming with two cries of pleasure.

Benny collapsed to the bed beside Crowley, closing his eyes and just breathing.

“...what did I ever do to deserve you?” he murmured.

“had deviant tastes.” crowley mumbled back.

They lay there for a moment more, and then crowley rolled over and grabbed the wipes from the nightstand. He took one out and then threw the packet at Benny.

It smacked him in his face and he laughed softly. “And all the tenderness is gone, cher?”

“Clean up, and then cuddle me.”

“You just threw something at my face.” he said, starting to wipe himself off.

“I still deserve love.” he sniffed.

Benny groaned and sat up. He gathered up the pyjamas spread on the bed and tossed them to the floor.

“those are silk.”

“buy new ones.” he mumbled, gathering Crowley in his arms and pulling him close.

“Alexa, turn off the lights.” Crowley called.

Benny breathed in the dark room for a moment, scenting his husband. “...thank you.”

“don’t mistake this for kindness, I was horny.” he lied.

Benny laughed, and fell asleep shortly after.

Chapter Text

When Benny left the kitchen, leaving him alone with Crowley, Balthazar had frozen.

“Keep eating.” The other alpha had said, his tone brooking no hesitation.

He had immediatley kept eating – swallowing the soup as quickly as he could while still being careful to not make himself sick again – and tried to ignore the rising scent of arousal in the room. He had set the bowl of soup down as soon as he was finished, returning to a slave’s resting position and waiting for his next order.

“Get up – bring your pillow.”

Crowley was firm. He gave orders. Benny was nice but...the lack of rules was terrifying.

Maybe it was time for his punishments now – all of the mistakes he had made up until this point. Maybe it was finally time to pay them back.

He smothered the whimper in his throat and kept his gaze focused on the ground as they walked back to the room that had once been an office – an office he had yet to pay Crowley for allowing him to use.

He was shaking when they reached the room, clutching the pillow to his chest.

He stopped when Crowley stopped, staring at the floor through tears. He hoped Crowley didn’t want to scent his terror before his punishment – hoped that he wouldn’t be punished more for needing the suppressors in the first place.

“Balthazar. Stay away from that window – do not even think about touching it.”

right. The window.

He nodded quickly. “Yes, Master.”

“go to sleep. Stay in this room.”

He nodded, walking to the bed and lying down on it. He stared at the ceiling, leaving the pillow on the floor beside him as he waited for...whatever Crowley wanted.

The door shut, and he looked over in its direction in shock.

He looked around the room – looked for the aroused alpha that had been in charge of him and found….no one.

He looked at the window, and just as quickly looked away.

He looked at the door, and then at himself. He hesitated, and then quickly stripped off his clothes. He folded them in a pile near the head of the bed and then knelt on the cushion.

Crowley would be back, and he wasn’t going to make it worse by not being ready. He would take his punishment, and he would follow the rules, and he would show his owners how grateful he was to be owned by them. He kept his hands clasped behind his back and tried not to shiver in the open air, and he waited for the door to open again.

And he waited.

And he waited until his legs started going numb and the scent of arousal and sex started leaking through the house.

And his shivering got worse as he smelled it.

He hated them. Hated them for getting off on this. He hated them for being able to use him like they did – for not even caring. He hated them for pretending to be nice, just to hurt him later.

And he hated himself for being too broken to be any use anymore. A real man wouldn’t take orders. A real man would run away – would take advantage of the moment he was left alone with no restraints and not even a locked door and…

He was crying again.

A real man wouldn’t cry so much over nothing.

But then, he wasn’t a man anymore was he. He was a slave. A thing to be bought and sold and used at his owner’s pleasures. He was a sex toy, to be put back in the box when he wasn’t being used.

Maybe a sex toy could be allowed to cry – he wasn’t a real man after all.

“Oh you little pathetic thing…”

Balthazar cringed away from Zachariah, and cried out as the cane came down over his shoulders.

“Don’t worry – I’ll train you right.”

he kept his eyes on the floor, trying to swallow the bile in his throat.

“She didn’t know what she was doing, did she.” he trailed a hand over Balthazar’s shoulders, smiling as he hunched in more on himself. He slid his hand up Balthazar’s spine, digging his fingers into his nape.

Balthazar let out a small breath and went boneless, crumpling forward until his face touched the floor. He was helpless, unable to speak or move or do anything to fight back.

“This – this is what you’re supposed to be. A vessel – no thoughts, no opinions.”

He stared blindly at the floor, trying to remember how to breathe regularly instead of the hitching breaths he was taking.

“Your training is...abysmally lacking – she really should have invested more time into you.”

he wanted to beg, to promise that he hadn’t asked to be freed – that he would be good!

Zachariah’s nails were digging into his nape, and Balthazar felt sicker. He held him there for a moment more, and then he let go and Balthazar dragged in a deep breath again only to immediately vomit up everything he had in his stomach. He stared in horror at the white stuff mixed with bile and slowly looked at his master.

Benny looked back at him in disappointment, shaking his head. “You’re just too stupid to do the bare minimum aren’t you, cher.”

he jerked his head, redirecting his eyes back to the floor. “Please – please, master, I didn’t mean to-”

He could feel the cane tracing over the back of his neck – dangerously close to his nape.

“Eat it.” he said casually.

He stared at the pile of vomit. “What?”

“Eat it.” he repeated sharply.

Balthazar flinched and unclasped his hands from behind his back. He reached out, feeling his stomach roll again at just the thought of it. He gagged, bracing himself against the floor. “No, Master – please-”

there was a hand in his hair, shoving his head down, and then there was fire everywhere as the cane cracked directly on his nape.

He went boneless, screaming.

There was another hit and then another, and he managed to get his hands up – to cover his nape.

“Stop! Stop please, master! I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”

“Not sorry enough, ami.” Benny growled. He dragged him by the hair to the bench, dragging him up and over it.

Balthazar struggled to get his feet under him, his hands going to grab Benny’s in an attempt to take the strain off his scalp.

Benny grabbed his hands, And Balthazar started shaking as he was chained down to the bench.

“Master – master, please. Please, I’m sorry. I – I’ll eat it. Please don’t-” His words died in a whimper as a blindfold was tied over his eyes.

“You never look at your betters – your eyes stay on the fucking ground.”

He nodded jerkily.

“And you never tell me to fucking stop. Your body is mine, and I’ll do what I fucking please.”

he nodded again, and then Benny’s hand was on his head, pinning it down to the bench.

He felt his master move and he screamed as he felt the cane come down over his already abused nape. He jerked against the restraints, screaming again with each new hit.

Benny woke to someone shaking him. “Wha-” he mumbled.

“Your pet project is screaming.” Crowley snapped.

He lifted his head, suddenly hearing the desperate screams. He sat up with a yawn. “Why don’t you go?”

Crowley rolled onto his side and pulled the blanket back up. “Because my irritation at being woken is not going to calm him down.”

Benny rolled his eyes and got out of bed. He grabbed the pyjama pants that lay on the floor and rubbed his face before pulling them on. He trudged out of the bedroom towards the office, following the sounds of screams.

He was awake by the time he reached the office, and he opened the door.

He took in the sight of a naked Balthazar kneeling on the pillow and half collapsed against the cot, and frowned as he realised the omega was still asleep.

He walked to him quickly, crouching down in front of him. He took him by the shoulders, gently shaking him. “Hey. Hey, Balthazar – it’s over. It’s just a dream – you’re safe.”

Balthazar woke with surprising suddenness, and for a moment the two of them locked eyes. Benny had a moment to think that he had some of the bluest eyes he had ever seen, before Balthazar whimpered and immediately folded himself to the floor.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Master – please, please don’t…” he trailed off with a sob.

Benny still had a hand on his shoulder and he stared at him helplessly for a moment. “...Balthazar, I need you to take a deep breath.”

He shuddered and tried to obey.

“Good, let it out.”

he let it out, and Benny hated to feel how tense he was under his hand.

“Okay. You’re doing great – can you take another deep breath?”

He did, but didn’t seem to be calming down.

“Alright. Alright. Can – can we get you dressed again?”

He stilled for a moment before nodding.

“Great.” he looked around and found the neatly folded pile of clothes. He handed them to Balthazar, who slowly took them. “Here, put these back on.”

He stared at the clothes for a moment. “….can I help you with your problem, Benny?”

Now it was Benny’s turn to stare. “What problem, cher?”

He put the clothes down, and reached out for Benny’s crouch, straightening up from his knees a little.

Benny caught his hand. “No. No – I’m fine. I’m married.” he repeated.

Balthazar breathed out a noise that almost sounded bitter. “No one cares, master.”

“I do.” he said firmly. “And you...you don’t want this. I...you don’t want to.”

“I want to make you feel good, Benny.” he purred, his whole appearance turning to something almost seductive.

“I feel plenty good without your help – just...put the clothes back on. Please.”

he was still for a moment more, and then he was quickly getting dressed. As soon as he was finished, he knelt on the cushion again; and Benny was glad to see that that at least was sticking.

“Alright. Back into bed – to sleep. Back to sleep.” he hurried to correct himself.

Balthazar didn’t move for a moment, and then he was standing up and getting onto the cot, pulling the blankets over him.

Benny got to his own feet with a groan. “Alright… just...sleep well, Balthazar.”

He didn’t wait for an answer, trudging out of the office and back to his bedroom.

He pulled the already asleep Crowley back into his arms and yawned.

He closed his eyes and tried not to think about what Balthazar was dreaming that would make him scream like that.

“Did you die?”

Balthazar woke up to someone poking him, and grabbed for the hand.

“ah. It lives.” Crowley said.

He grumbled and pulled the blankets higher.

“Oh no – I’m slightly concerned about you still being asleep. Wake up and reassure me.”

“Crowley, I swear to god…”

“I made coffee.”

“And drank it all?”

“...I made a new pot.”

Benny smiled a little and sighed, pushing the covers back. “Alright, I’m awake.” he rubbed his face. “Something happen?”

“No. You just...slept in. Doesn’t it feel good?” Crowley handed him a mug of black coffee.

“Feels like I’ve got sand in my joints.” He took the coffee and sipped it. “thanks, cher.”

“Balthazar is awake. I gave him some more soup.”

“You did?”

“don’t expect it every time.”

Benny chuckled and got out of bed, stretching. “don’t worry – I won’t.”

Crowley nodded. “I made breakfast.”

“You did?”

“Just potatoes – nothing special.”

“You cooking is always special.” he said quietly, kissing Crowley.

“Hmph.” he said, turning away to hide his blush.

Benny chuckled and shoved off his pyjama pants again. “Oh for fuck’s-” he rubbed his hand over his face.

“What?”

“Wore these to check on Balthazar last night – these are the ones I wore to bed.” He sighed. “I’m sure that helped…” he muttered.

“Flannel.” Crowley said disparagingly.

He chuckled at that remark. “yes, flannel – it’s comfortable and doesn’t have to be dry cleaned.”

“Not everything has to be dry cleaned.”

“No. But most of your stuff does.”

“I buy quality.”

“Mmm. Is that so.”

Crowley glared at him and then stomped out of the bedroom.

“I love you, cherie!” Benny called, laughing.

He was still amused when he left the bedroom fully dressed and entered the kitchen.

There was a plate of fried potatoes on the table and he slid it towards him. He took the katsup and shook it over the potatoes.

Crowley grimaced and sat down beside him with another cup of coffee.

Balthazar was kneeling on the cushion in the corner of the room, but he looked calmer, so Benny tried to ignore him. He started eating his food. “I’ve got some errands to run today. I’ll be taking your card.”

“Of course you will be – another auction?”

He shook his head, wincing. “Probably not for a while. No, I need to get him his own clothes, and fix his hair, and probably do something about those cuffs. I don’t know how much it is all going to be…”

Crowley watched him, and reached out and took his hand. “what’s mine is yours – you know that.”

He nodded. “Thanks, cher.”

“Don’t get sentimental about it.”

He grinned. “I love you.”

“I know.” he said primly.

Balthazar kept his eyes on the ground, but he listened to his two owners talking to each other at the island as if he wasn’t there.

He should be glad they were ignoring him – were still allowing him to cushion his knees after his performance last night. He had woken them up – or at least had woken up Benny. He had forced them to have to calm him down, had looked him in the eyes…

he ought to be beaten for that. He ought to be reminded of his place and told how grateful he ought to be. That’s what should be happening, but it still wasn’t. He was given a cushion, and given food, and ignored while he sat in the corner. He was given a room of his own with blankets and clothes and Balthazar didn’t even know how to tally up what he owed anymore.

He heard Benny talking about plans for the day and he straightened up to listen. His heart sank at the mention of clothes specifically for him, and he curled up in his sweats as he mourned the loss of clothes covering all of his body. He heard Benny talk about fixing his hair, and he wanted to throw up again. He knew his hair was a mess – had never been allowed to take care of it – but he wanted to beg to keep it, wanted to beg not to lose control to yet another part of him. He heard him talk about the cuffs, and felt...confusion. They were there for convenience – so he could be restrained at a moment’s notice. Removing those...he didn’t understand why they would.

He heard the alphas talk about loving each other and he wondered again why they had bought them. They seemed...to fit. He was just...a third wheel in the worst way.

He curled back up on his cushion, closed his eyes, and decided he had done enough listening for the moment.

When they were ready for him, they would let him know.

Chapter Text

Crowley left to get dressed, came back to kiss Benny goodbye, and left for work – all the while Benny tried to figure out how to go about his day. He sipped his coffee and picked at the potatoes on his plate, and watched Balthazar out of the corner of his eye.

The omega seemed to be relaxed. He was still on the cushion, and still in that awful position with his hands behind his back – but he seemed to be relaxed and Benny tried to remind himself that it had barely been three days.

“Can’t expect monumental progress overnight.” he muttered to himself, getting up and finishing his coffee. He carried his plate to the trash, scraping the cold potatoes into the bin before putting his plate in the sink. He stared at the sink for a moment more before straightening and stretching with a yawn. “Can’t put it off forever.”

He pulled his phone out of his pocket, opening the photos and finding the one he had taken of Ash’s contact info. He entered the phone number and hit “call”, putting the phone to his ear.

“You got this number you get fast service. How can I help you?”

“I...Dr. Benson recommended you to me. I have...a friend who has cuffs welded onto his wrists.”

“Ah sure. Right. One of those recs. Sure, I can do something about that. When you thinking about doing this?”

“As soon as possible.” he said firmly. “Whatever it costs.”

“Usually do this sort of thing for free. But I’ll take a donation to my college fund if you’re amenable.”

“...college fund?”

“Sure. Never too old to go to school!”

Benny smiled a little. “I would be...amenable.”

“Great! I’ll text you the address. Come on over in...an hour?”

“yes.” he agreed.

There was a ding as the text came through.

“See you then.” he said before hanging up.

Benny set the phone down on the counter again, feeling a little relieved. He had one thing done – he was doing something. He looked at Balthazar again, and picked the phone up, getting ready to call some hair salons.

The warm soup settled in his stomach, and the water glass was refilled and still no one had done anything or asked for anything. Balthazar was feeling dangerously safe and content and he didn’t want to feel that way – to let his guard down. The cuffs were going to be taken off, and his hair was going to be dealt with, and he was being fed and watered and he just didn’t understand. He wanted to understand. Understanding what was happening kept him alive. Understanding his place kept him alive.

He listened to Benny make phone call after phone call, describing Balthazar’s hair and trying to find a place that would de-mat it, no matter the cost. Salon after salon recommended shaving it all off and starting over and Balthazar cringed every time. But every time Benny thanked them for their time and hung up, and Balthazar didn’t understand. It was just hair – it wasn’t anything special or irreplaceable. It definitely wasn’t good looking either – it wasn’t attractive. It was lank and unhealthy and thin and probably didn’t even have curl in it anymore.

And yet he wanted to keep it, and somehow Benny also wanted him to keep it. Balthazar didn’t know why he was trying to when every professional he called told him it would be easier and less stressful to just shave it off. Balthazar certainly wasn’t going to protest – so why did he care?

Again. He didn’t understand.

“You can?” Benny sounded surprised and Balthazar tried to focus.

“No – no. Of course – whatever your price is. We...yes. We will be there. Three this afternoon? Yes, I know it will probably take a while – whatever you have to do.” Benny was smiling. “yeah – thanks, cher.”

It sounded like he put his phone down on the counter again.

Balthazar made sure his position was perfect just in case Benny was looking at him.

There was silence, and then he could hear Benny get up and walk across the kitchen. A cabinet was opened and something was gotten out, and Balthazar couldn’t keep himself relaxed as the dread built up.

He heard Benny walk back across the kitchen toward him, and flinched when his master suddenly sat on the floor beside him. He watched his knees out of the corner of his eye, confused.

There was a notebook in Benny’s lap, and he wrote something across the top of it.

“We have to go shopping today – get you some clothes of your own.”

Balthazar’s heart sank and he curled in on himself – curled up in the warm pair of sweats he had been loaned and tried to savour the feeling. He wondered what his new masters would prefer he wear. He wondered if he would have to model options in the store in front of strangers – and he tried to stop thinking about it as his stomach twisted in revolt.

“What’s your favourite colours?”

he blinked at the floor under his face, trying to understand the question. Did Benny want to know his favourite colours so he could refuse to give him anything in that colour? Or did he want to know what he looked best in?

He realised he had hesitated for too long and spat out an answer: “Blue.”

Benny wrote it down on the notepad without a comment. “We’ll need some socks and underwear – do you prefer briefs or boxers?”

His chest was tightening as he tried to understand the purpose of the questions. He didn’t think thongs and lacy straps around his junk counted as either briefs or boxers – so how was he supposed to answer? He wanted to say boxers, wanted to stay in soft and loose clothes, he wanted to beg to have his own clothes that would cover him up fully when he wasn’t being used and he flinched when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

“Breathe, ami – take a breath.”

He dragged in a shaky breath.

“There. That’s it. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Benny was apologising. Yet again. He was apologising for something he didn’t do and Balthazar focused on breathing for a moment.

“Master, I...I don’t understand. I don’t understand the question.” he whispered. “Please – please help me understand.”

the hand was still on his shoulder – was still holding him gently as if to comfort and ground him. “there...there ain’t no trick to it, Balthazar. Just a question of preferences. You’ll be the one in the clothes, I want you to be comfortable. Just...tell me what you want.”

He whimpered.

Benny set the notebook aside, shifting towards him. “Balthazar. Balthazar, please…” he sounded frustrated.

He started to shake, and he was ashamed of himself. Benny hadn’t even done anything – had promised time and time again to be kind and gentle. And maybe he meant it. Crowley seemed to be one in charge, the one laying down the rules. Maybe that was their the relationship – maybe Crowley got the rights of punishment in the house and Benny was the caretaker and Balthazar was…

So he still couldn’t figure out why they would want him.

“I’m barren.” he blurted, trying to get it over with – trying to make the world go back to what he was used to. “I can’t have children. I won’t...i won’t ever be able to give you children, sir.”

Benny smelled sad. “I know that, cher – read your file while you were sleeping. That’s not...that’s not-” he broke off and took a breath. “Doesn’t make a difference, I don’t want anything from you. Nothing at all – just want you to be safe and happy.”

It didn’t work. Benny was still pretending to care and be nice and Balthazar didn’t know how to fix the world around him so it made sense again.

So he curled in on himself and answered the last question he could remember: “I like boxers, Benny.”

It wasn’t like taunting him with clothes he liked and then taking them away again would really be a punishment when he was so used to waiting naked to be used. He might as well just tell the truth and leave the mind games up to his masters.

Benny didn’t have the first clue what had upset Balthazar in the kitchen, and didn’t know how else to reassure him that he was safe – and he settled for finishing his shopping list of supplies. More pairs of sweats, in shades of blue. Boxers. Warm socks. Some more blankets – blue, if he could find them. Scentless soap. Shoes. Perhaps some prepackaged snacks to put in Balthazar’s room so he could eat when he wanted to – Benny wished there was a list on Google somewhere on “how to shop for your new slave that you want to remind of their humanity”.

He didn’t think it would be that easy.

“here.” he held out two more pairs of socks to Balthazar. “Still don’t have shoes for you – but if you layer these up they should be good enough to last ‘til we can get you properly shod.”

Balthazar took them cautiously, shifting to sit on the cushion and pull the two pairs of socks on over the socks he was already wearing.

Benny nodded, pulling on his coat and hat. “alright, chief. We’re gonna go get that metal off you first. Ready?”

he nodded.

“If...if you’re uncomfortable at all. At any point today. You...let me know. Okay?”

His brow wrinkled for a moment before he smoothed it out and nodded, getting to his feet easily and folding his hands behind his back.

“You can relax you know.” he tired to make it sound light-hearted instead of sad. “No one’s making you stand like that.”

Balthazar didn’t say anything in response to that, and Benny sighed, starting for the door again.

“You gonna be okay to walk to the truck again?” he asked, locking the door of the flat behind them. He looked over at Balthazar who was hunched in on himself and standing both right on top of him and as far away from him as he could manage.

Benny wanted to comment on it – make a joke about it – but even he knew better, so he kept his mouth shut.

Their walk down the hallway to the lift was quiet and uneventful; and except for Balthazar’s hesitation at the doors of the lift, nothing went wrong. They road the lift to the ground floor, crossed the foyer, made it through the doors of the complex, and even made it out to the street without anything happening.

When they reached the street, Benny kept an eye on Balthazar, watching him for any signs of distress that would end in a full blown panic attack; and both he and the Omega were visibly relieved when they reached his truck and Balthazar could climb into the back.

“Here. Uh...sit on the bench – got to buckle up properly.” he said, grabbing Balthazar’s arm before he could fold himself down into the footwell.

Balthazar was tense under his hand.

“I’m just looking to avoid a ticket, is all. There’s no trick here. Just trying to obey the laws.”

Balthazar hesitated for a moment more, and then reluctantly sat on the seat and buckled himself up. “thank you, Benny.”

He winced. “Ain’t nothing to thank me for either, Balthazar.”

They both were still in silence for a moment before Benny closed the doors and walked around the truck to climb in the driver’s seat and start the vehicle.

He was shaking, folded up in the footwell of the passenger seat and trying not to throw up as Gordon accelerated his sports car around another hairpin curve. He whimpered as they reached a straight-away, feeling like they were going ever faster and faster. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried not to think about what would happen if they got into any sort of accident right then. He vaugely remembered hearing something about the test dummies for car safety not being rated for the female gender, and he could only imagine that the damn footwell of a car wasn’t rated for safety either. How many people had crushed legs during accidents, and his whole body was folded down in-

His panicked train of thought cut off abruptly as Gordon reached over and grabbed the nape of his neck.

“Are you thinking about what I’m going to do to you later? Are you thinking of how I’m going to carve my name into you so everyone knows who made you best?”

He shuddered, gagging.

His fingers dug deeper into his nape and he dragged him up out of the footwell and over the gear shift.

Balthazar couldn’t fight back, couldn’t even move. The gear shift dug into his stomach, which didn’t help his nausea, and he wanted to beg to be allowed to curl back up in his footwell where at least he wouldn’t be touched – but all he could do was whimper.

“such pathetic noises. It’s no wonder that you’re just a free use toy.” he let go of his nape, and Balthazar was finally able to breathe again.

“Sorry – sorry master. I’ll do better, master. Please, please let – let me apologise, master.” he whispered, not daring to change his position without permission.

“I suppose you should be given the chance…”

the car finally started to slow down as Gordon pulled over to the side of the road; and Balthazar tried to hide his relief.

“Get out of the car. I don’t want you to soil my property when I make you beg for me to fuck you.”

He shivered and was reminded that there really was no silver lining when it came to Gordon. He reached behind him and opened up the car door, sliding out of the sports car while trying to touch as little of the interior as he could.

He had a momentary thought that if Gordon hurt him enough, maybe he would be allowed to pass out in the trunk – safely out of reach for however long the rest of this drive was.

“Balthazar – Balthazar!”

Someone was shaking his shoulder, and he startled awake. There was drool running down his cheek and he hurried to wipe it off, trying to gather himself enough to get into position. He realised he was sitting down normally, and stopped breathing entirely. He made a helpless sound and tried to slide off the chair – to get to the floor where he belonged, god damn it he knew better.

“No – no, Balthazar, it’s okay – it’s okay!”

something was wrapped around him, holding him back and he was trying to shove it off – trying to get free, to get to his knees…

there was noise from in front of him, and a shadow fell across him, and then there were two hands holding his head still.

He froze on instinct, making sure his eyes were downcast.

“there. Okay. Okay, can you breathe with me? Breathe with me, cher.” there was an exagerrated breath in, and and a loud exhale.

His chest was heaving, and he tried to obey and match his breaths to his master’s.

“That’s it. That’s it. Good. Good.”

He felt himself slowly calming down, and tried to figure out how to pull away without making Benny angry.

Because he was in Benny’s truck. He must have fallen asleep. He was sitting on the seat because Benny wanted him to buckle up.

“You good there, cher?”

He nodded jerkily, and benny let go of him and slowly clambered back over the front seat to settle behind the wheel again.

“I’m sorry I had to wake you – but you were having a nightmare again.”

He didn’t know why Benny cared – he would probably get new nightmares just from his two new owners. “I am sorry, Benny.”

“Don’t be, please. You..you’ve got the reason for it.” he finished quietly, unlocking the doors. “We’re here at our first stop.”

He blinked at the floor, stroking the fabric of his seat with nervous fingers as he listened to Benny get out of the truck and shut his door. The fabric was old and stiff, worn through in places with age and use. This interior was stained with grease and oil, and Balthazar could hardly soil it with his presence.

He relaxed a little at that realisation, and unbuckled his seat belt as Benny opened his door.

“Ready to get those cuffs off?”

He hesitated, and then nodded. “Thank you, Benny.”

the alpha smelt of disappointment again, and Balthazar slipped out of the truck and waited behind him as Benny locked the vehicle. He clasped his hands behind his back and fell into step behind him, walking across the dirt lot until they reached a pair of wooden steps.

Benny knocked on the door, and they waited.

Balthazar carefully traced the rim of the cuff on one wrist, wondering what it would be replaced with when it was taken off. The pain was old, and the edges rarely cut him anymore – he wondered if the replacements would be better or worse. Benny and Crowley seemed to live in opulance – maybe the rough steel his cuffs were currently made of were just not fit to be seen.

There was a hand at his elbow and he flinched.

“Sorry – Ash was just asking us to come in, and you were distracted.”

He hunched in on himself, the tally of wrongs he had committed that day adding up in his head. “I’m sorry, Mast- Benny.”

“...Master Benny?” asked a new man.

Benny sighed. “I tried getting him to just use my name, and now it’s just an honorific itself…”

Ash snorted. “Miscalculation – well, come on in. Let’s get this done with. Lenore said the skin might be raw, so I got some bandages out too.”

“Oh that – thanks, chief.”

“Just part of my services.”

Benny guided Balthazar into the house, over the wooden floors. “Balthazar, can...can you sit-”

“Oh no, that’s not necessary.” Ash said, interrupting Benny before Balthazar had a chance to start panicking. “I work better on the floor.”

Balthazar saw the new man drop down onto the floor in front of him, and took a breath to hesitantly scent the room.

He scented an Omega. He saw another omega fold down to the ground with artful casualness and realised he was with another slave.

He relaxed, folding himself to his knees opposite the new man. He didn’t understand the way Ash talked to Benny – as if they were equals – but he felt a little safer now, among those that understood him.

“go on and run me some hot water, will ya, Benny?”

The alpha hesitated, and Balthazar cringed before Benny just walked away.

“There. Lenore said you were pretty unsure of everything but as I’m sure you’ve noticed: I was a slave once too.” he said. “Hand?”

He hesitated for a moment more, and then brought his hands around to rest in his lap.

Ash took one, working a shield slowly between the metal and the skin. “I won’t take it personally – I remember the training.”

Balthazar was listening for Benny, tense as a rod.

Ash fell silent, and then picked up the cutter. “Okay well. No time for chit-chat, let’s get this done!”

Chapter Text

Benny twisted in place, trying to pop his back into alignment again after the stunt he had pulled leaning over the back of the front seat to reach Balthazar. He groaned to himself. “Getting too old…” he muttered, turning on the sink in the one room house and trying not to stare at Ash and Balthazar. He knew he was being sent away just to give the omegas some space, and he didn’t mind. It wasn’t like his Prescence calmed Balthazar down anyway – as much as he wished it would.

Ash was working in silence, cutting through the cuffs on one side first and then turning Balthazar’s wrist so he could cut the other side and take the metal off.

Balthazar was stiff as usual, but he didn’t make a move to pull away.

Benny held his breath when the first cuff was lifted completely off Balthazar’s wrist, and he clenched his fist when he saw the raw and blackened skin that was revealed.

“Just like we expected.” Ash commented. “How’s that water coming?”

He blinked and turned back, grabbing the basin that was waiting and filling it with hot water. “Ready.”

“Great. Bring it on over – we’ll get this one cleaned up while I get the other one off.”

Benny walked over slowly. “Are you sure that-”

“Unless you’re planning to do it cruelly, it’s fine.”

He nodded quickly, setting the basin down on the floor beside Balthazar, and lowering himself to the floor with a grunt.

Balthazar stiffened more, and Benny looked at Ash.

“Just be calm and gentle. Right, Balthazar?”

He swallowed, but didn’t respond except to hold his free wrist out to Benny.

He sighed and took a washcloth from the stack on the table, dunking it in the basin. He wrung it out and took Balthazar’s hand carefully. “I’m not going to hurt you.” he promised, hoping it was believable this time.

Balthazar’s hand was limp in his, and Benny slowly washed the skin that had been under the cuff. Up close, it smelled terrible, like a piercing that hadn’t been cleaned and wasn’t quite healed yet. Up close, he could see the top layer of skin that was caked in dirt and layers of dead skin peel off as he washed it.

His stomach turned in anger and horror, and he looked at Ash.

Ash glanced over and nodded with a bitter smile. “Yeah. They make the cuffs tight enough so they don’t rub the skin raw by moving, but then they’re nearly impossible to clean good enough underneath.”

Benny tried to keep his hands gentle.

“Calm down. No one here is responsible for this.” Ash snapped at him.

He looked at him sharply, and then remembered his scent. He took a deep breath and tried to calm down. “...you do this often?”

he shrugged, done with one side of Balthazar’s other cuff. “Went to welding school before they took me. Got lucky when my masters found out – they made a pretty penny off me being able to install these things. And the other slaves were always calmer having an omega do it.”

Benny stared at him. “How...what happened?”

He shrugged. “Ran away one day. Popped my collar in the night, cut off the cuffs with my tools and booked it. Got lucky at a homeless shelter when I ran into some...people, and took a bus out here where my owners would never be able to find me.”

He nodded, leaving the soiled washcloth on the floor next to him, and picking up another one. He wet it and washed Balthazar’s wrist one more time. “...good for you.” he said seriously.

“I know.” he took the other cuff off and tossed it aside. “Now I use my skills to...help others.”

Benny wet another washcloth and handed it to him. “and you recovered…”

“No one heals the same – and I didn’t go through half of what he has.” he said warningly, washing the dead skin off the other wrist. “The box of bandages is on the bench over there.”

Benny nodded, getting up off the floor with a wince. He walked across the room and picked up the box, trying to imagine Balthazar as healed as Ash was. He wondered what he would be like – was he quiet? Sarcastic? Kind? Did he have family somewhere?

“Do you have family?” He asked Ash.

“I do now.” he said simply, picking up the tub of cream from the box. “I’m sending these back with you. Change the bandages once a day – use the cream liberally. These are going to scar horribly but...should ward of infection.”

He grit his teeth at the thought of yet another scar on the man that had already been through so much, but he took some of the cream and rubbed it in as gently as he could.

Balthazar didn’t seem to react or relax.

“Are you okay, Balthazar?” he asked.

He was quiet for a moment and then nodded. “yes, Benny.”

he sighed.

Ash was already wrapping the bandages around his wrist, securing them in place with a generous amount of tape.

“Can...you said you popped your collar – can you take his off too?”

“shit – no-”

Benny looked confused for a moment before he realised that Balthazar was scrambling back away from both of them, his hands wrapped around the lock on his collar to cover it.

“No. No. No. No. No No – no, I’m good. I’m good. I don’t want it off – I won’t run. I swear – I know better. Please don’t – please don’t- I’m good – I’m good-” he begged, sobbing in terror.

Benny stared at him, his mouth hanging open.

Ash heaved a sigh. “...can’t pop a collar before they’re ready.” he said sadly. “it’s drilled in pretty deep.”

He felt terrible, and said so.

“You’re pretty new at this.”

Balthazar had hit the wall and was curling up against it as small as he could go, begging desperately in a stream of words that was barely intelligible above the gasping sobs.

Ash was getting up to move, and Benny sat back to let him help Balthazar.

Ash picked up the basin and went to dump it out. “He’s your responsibility – get on in there and help him.” he said.

“But you-”

“He’s living with you, not me.” he turned back to stare at Benny. “He has to understand you’re not going to hurt him. Doesn’t make a difference if he thinks I won’t – I’m not gonna be around.”

He winced and nodded, getting off the floor again. He carefully walked over to Balthazar, still disconcerted by the fact that he couldn’t scent him.

“Hey. Hey, cher. It’s okay.” he sat down beside him. “I’m...I’m not going to take it off – you’re not in trouble.” he carefully put a hand on his shoulder, ignoring the flinch he got in return. “You’re safe. You’re okay. Breathe. Breathe with me, okay?” he took an exagerrated breath in and let it out. “Just take a breath okay? Nothing is going to happen – no one is going to hurt you.”

Balthazar slowly stopped babbling.

“Good. Good job. Thank you. You’re okay.” he promised, continuing to exagerrate his breathing, until Balthazar started to copy it.

He never thought he would be relieved to see Balthazar move into the proper slave resting position, but he was.

“...I’m sorry, Benny.” he whispered, tears still tracking down his face.

He winced. “It ain’t your fault, ami. I...I should have known better.” he squeezed his shoulder reassuringly. “ain’t never going to hurt you on purpose, you’re safe now.”

“yes, Benny.” he whispered.

He sighed. “I’ll take it…” he muttered to himself.

Balthazar could still feel his heart racing in his chest, and he still had the urge to wrap his hands around his collar so they couldn’t take it off. The collar had to stay on, he knew that. That had been very thoroughly beaten into him after Naomi – he knew better now. He knew his place. He hoped Benny believed him when he promised that. He would take any punishment he was given for his outburst of course – but he’d rather be punished for wanting to keep the collar than any punishment he would get for wanting it off.

So he knelt on the ground beside his master and tried to calm down.

The floor was hard against his knees and his stomach sank further as he realised he didn’t have his cushion.

The tears had barely dried on his face, and he was crying again. He had been given one order, and he had already failed.

“I...I am sorry, Master. I...I forgot my cushion – Please…” he trailed off, unsure what to say to lessen the anger when Benny realised he had disobeyed.

There was silence, and then Benny sighed. “It...it’s okay. Really. I...do you want a cushion?”

He blinked at the floor in confusion. His knees hurt – but they always hurt. Maybe it was a trap – maybe his punishment was that he wouldn’t get a cushion again. So he answered honestly: “Yes, Benny.”

“Okay. Uh – Ash? Do you...have a pillow we can borrow?”

there was silence, and then the omega was walking closer and a moment later there was a pillow being handed to him.

He took it carefully, and got half off the floor so he could slide the pillow under his knees.

“thank you, Benny.”

“Of course.” he said kindly, and Balthazar nearly started crying again.

“Can...can I finish bandaging your wrist?”

He swallowed the lump in his throat and held out the unfinished hand. He felt Benny take it and put on some more cream. He felt him wrap gauze around it, and then tape it on him. He felt him let go of him, and he put his hands behind his back where they belonged.

He stared at the wooden floor under his face and let the confusion fill his mind as he tried to understand the purpose of this entire outing.

Benny got to his feet beside him and turned to the Omega. “Thanks. I...what do I owe you?”

“Nothing. Just make sure you change those bandages.”

“I insist – as a tip then, if not payment.”

“...really? These are just hundreds.”

Benny laughed a little. “Crowley doesn’t believe in carrying anything smaller for tipping.”

“Well. That’s mighty generous.”

“it’s the least I can do. I’m way out of my depth here.”

“You’re trying. That’s important. Now. I’d like my house back.”

“Right. Yeah – of course. Balthazar?”

he got off the floor quickly, holding the pillow out after he stood. “Thank you, sir.”

“…right. Take care.”

There was a gentle hand on his elbow for a moment, and then he was following Benny across the wooden floor and out of the one room house. They walked down the steps and across the gravel driveway until they reached the truck, and Balthazar waited as Benny opened the back door again. He hesitated, unsure where he was supposed to sit.

“On the seat, ami.” he said gently.

Balthazar swallowed the lump in his throat again. He climbed into the back of the truck, sitting on the bench seat and buckling himself in.

Benny shut the door and walked around the truck to the driver’s seat, and Balthazar took the moment to look at his wrists. His hands felt extremely light, compared to the last several years, and he wondered how long they were going to leave the cuffs off. The omega had even put a skin protector under the metal when he had cut it, instead of just letting him burn. It had been so easy to sit still and let him work – it was like they didn’t want to cause him pain.

He didn’t understand it.

He wondered if he ever would.

Chapter Text

Benny barely made it out of of the gravel driveway before his phone rang. He frowned, shifting and digging in his pocket. He pulled the phone out, thumbing it on to see who was calling. He smiled softly when he saw his husband’s number, and he accepted the call.

“hello, pet.”

“Hey there. Worried about your pocketbook already?”

“No. More worried about your state of mind. How did your first appointment go?”

He drove with one hand, merging onto the roadway and heading back toward the city. “The cuffs are off. His wrists...they look awful, Crowley.”

“I imagine so.” there was a clink of glass on the other end of the phone.

“Are you drinking? Already?”

“I require a substantial amount of alcohol to get me through every day with these morons.” he said primly.

“You’re going to need a new liver.”

“Trust me pet. If that’s what kills me, I’ll be lucky.”

He laughed a little and relaxed. “Went fine. Got the cuffs off, tried...well. Put him in a panic attack again over his collar,” he whispered. “Got him bandaged up – I just…”

“why are we whispering?”

“I don’t want to set him off again.”

Crowley sighed.

“That’s really helpful.”

“What am I – your therapist?”

“You couldn’t make a profit – you’d curse everyone out.”

He could hear him drinking before he answered. “I know my strengths. They certainly aren’t sitting in a chair in a plush office listening to people whine.”

“...right.”

“How is the outing going otherwise? Going to have to cut it short?”

“I...don’t think so. Unless I get arrested for being an abusive ass.”

“...that won’t happen.”

“Are you sure? If you get a call from an unknown number, just know it’s me calling from a jail cell.”

“Don’t sulk. It won’t happen – it can’t happen as long as you have that collar on.”

he stared in confusion. “You...I’m sorry?” he asked flatly.

Crowley took another sip of his drink. “You’re legally his owner – his collar is coded to your ID. You can do whatever you want and no one can do anything about it.”

Benny gripped his phone tighter, sickened at the thought. “Oh I...I can’t-”

“You could shoot him in broad daylight on the sidewalk in front of the coppers, and no one would do a thing except perhaps make sure you have a proper license to carry the weapon.”

He felt like he was going to throw up.

“...Benjamin. Take a breath. I know you aren’t going to.”

“But...but he doesn’t. Is...is this why he is so scared of me?” he hissed into the phone, resisting the urge to look back at Balthazar and promise yet again that he was safe now.

“I would imagine that is an excellent reason.”

Benny closed his eyes for a brief second and breathed out, trying to force himself to relax. “Well. I won’t...end up in jail. For Balthazar’s sake at least.”

“don’t kill anyone else, please. I’m not a criminal lawyer.” Crowley sounded just as tired as Benny felt.

“else?” He relaxed a little. “do you imagine I kill people in my free time?”

“You were in the Navy.” he retorted.

“yeah. I was a cook. The only killing I did was palates.”

“you certainly didn’t kill libidos...I’ve seen you in your dress blues.”

He laughed. “Hedonistic bastard.”

“well. You sound less freaked out, so I’ve done my job. Clothes or hair next?”

“clothes. We’re going to stop at a target on the way back into the city.”

“a target?” he sounded disgusted.

“what? Do you want me to go to Saville Row and buy him a three-piece suit? Something in wool, or in silk?”

“don’t be idiotic. Get him something practical.”

“...that’s why we’re going to a target, cher.”

He sniffed. “A hopeless case.”

“and you stick around.”

“Out of my own free will even.”

“You know I’ll make it worth your while.”

He paused, and when he spoke again his voice was soft. “Have you tried talking to him?”

“...no. I don’t...he agrees with whatever he thinks I want and I just...how can I have a conversation with someone who doesn’t believe he’s a real person?”

“again. Not a therapist.”

Benny huffed in frustration and glanced back in the back seat. Balthazar was slowly stroking the clean gauze around his wrists and Benny sighed. “yeah well...don’t think he’d take well to a therapist appointment – even if there was one qualified.” He shook his head. “I feel bad – talking about him as if he isn’t even here with me.”

“By all means, pet. Feel free to bring him into the conversation.”

“don’t be an asshole.”

“It’s my only virtue.”

he shook his head. “I’m letting you go – I’m taking this exit.”

“Target already? Cheers.”

“Goodbye.” he said, hanging up with a smile. He slid his phone back into the pocket and turned on his signal, slowing down.

Balthazar was almost relaxed as they drove. Being in the back seat, buckled in safely, his wrists bandaged and numb from whatever was in the cream… For the first time in a long time he was almost feeling safe.

So of course the car started slowing down and he was reminded this was only temporary.

He dropped his hands to his side and looked at the floorboard, trying to listen and get any clue of what was happening. It didn’t feel as long of a drive as it had taken to get to Ash’s, but he had been asleep the last time, and it wasn’t as if he could keep track of time normally.

He tried to keep his breathing steady.

“Hey, Balthazar?” Benny sounded hesitant.

He swallowed. “yes, sir? Benny – yes, benny?” he stammared.

“We – I’m just stopping to shop. At Target. To get you some clothes.”

His heart sank as he was reminded that they were getting him clothes today, and he tried to remember what sort of clothing Target sold. He knew what Sensations sold, what the Cage sold, what Heaven and Hell sold...Target was a new one. He didn’t remember being taken to a place like that – he didn’t know if they specialised in lace or leather, or some other horrible set dressing. Maybe they sold toys and tools and accessories-

He felt someone touch his arm, and he flinched. He jerked his head in an abortive movement to see who it was, keeping his eyes down at the last moment.

He let out a shaky breath of relief at the near fatal mistake. “yes – yes, Benny?”

“You okay? Do...are you okay?”

“Yes, Benny.” he quickly unbuckled himself, moving to get out of the truck before he was dragged out.

Benny reached out to stabilise him, helping him to stand on the ground.

He clasped his hands behind him and waited patiently in his place.

He heard Benny sighed and winced.

“Okay. Uh...look. Few...rules.”

He breathed in sharply and focused. Rules were important. Rules he had to obey – he had to listen.

“No kneeling. Okay? I don’t want you to kneel at all.”

He stared at the ground in front of his stocking feet and tried to understand that order.

“And...I will not hurt you at all while we are here so – please don’t break down?”

He nodded quickly. “yes, Benny.”

Benny sighed. “alright...might as well get this over with. Can...put your hands in your pockets? Instead of behind your back? Just…” he breathed in deeply and spoke in a sterner voice. “Balthazar. Put your hands at your side when you are at ease.”

he quickly unclasped his hands, and relaxed when he scented relief in Benny’s scent. “Thank you, sir.”

“yeah, of course.”

He kept his hands awkwardly by his side, before carefully putting them in the pockets of his trousers. He stretched his hands and clenched them into fists, the anxiety for being out of position warring with the need to follow orders.

He kept his hands in his pockets and swallowed hard.

“...ready, chief?”

he nodded quickly.

Benny stood beside him for a moment longer, hesitating, before he turned and started walking across the parking lot towards the store.

It was a large parking lot, larger than he was used to being walked across. There were cars everywhere, coming and going all of the time. They stopped walking several times to let cars pull in or back out, and Balthazar had to get closer to Benny than his training dictated, just so he didn’t get lost while he kept his eyes on the ground.

They crossed a pedestiran crosswalk with several other groups of people – some children even, and Balthazar slowly realised they were at a supermarket.

He let out a shuddering breath of relief and blinked hard to get the tears out of his eyes. He wanted to get on his knees right then, he would have worshipped Benny – done anything he had asked.

But instead he kept his hands in his pockets, kept his eyes on the ground, and resolved to serve his new master the best he could.

For a brief moment, he had the thought that maybe supermarkets had changed – that maybe they carried slave clothes in them.

But even he didn’t believe that, so he walked behind Benny as he got a cart and started walking into the store.

“We’re going to get you shoes first before someone finds us and kicks us out.” Benny told him in a low voice as they walked.

“I’m sorry, Mast-”

“No. don’t apologise. You didn’t come with a stitch of clothing – this is so far from being your fault.”

Benny didn’t sound angry and he relaxed again.

“Just gonna get you some sneakers – no point in getting you anything fancy. Can’t imagine you’ll want to go outside much.”

He shook his head in agreement. He was well aware of his purpose in life now – pleasure slaves couldn’t expect to see the outside often unless they were some sort of special art piece. Even when he got normal clothes, he probably wouldn’t get to wear them much at the flat – but just the fact that he would get them at all…

“Do...you know what size shoe you wear?”

He hesitated and tried to remember. Eventually he shook his head, cringing. “No, Benny.”

“It’s alright. It’s been a while, I bet.” He sounded irritated.

The relief and gratitude was slowly dissolving back into the dread he felt all of the time.

“Here. Just…” Balthazar nearly walked into his back when he stopped moving. “Can you...sit on this bench?”

Balthazar stopped breathing.

“Okay, okay. No benches – no sitting. Just...stand here.” he amended, leaving the cart.

He clenched his hands in his pockets and looked longingly at the ground beneath his feet, wishing he could sink down onto his knees and wait to be used.

He heard someone walking back, and ducked his head further to his chest.

“Here,” benny said again. “got you some options. I guessed you’re about an eleven or twelve.” he knelt on the ground by his feet and Balthazar whimpered. Benny looked up in concern, and Balthazar clenched his eyes shut so he wouldn’t look at him. “...you good?”

He made an unintelligible noise of discomfort, unsure how to ask to be allowed to kneel.

Benny waited. “Uh...okay. We’re going to start with the size eleven – let me know if it’s uncomfortable, cher.”

He let Benny lift his foot, pulling two of the socks off and maneuvering a shoe onto his foot before setting it down. He slowly put weight on the foot, stretching and wiggling his toes out of old habit. They were a little short and he winced. “Benny, I...they are...too short.” he whispered.

He scented like relief again. “Okay. How about the width? Is that okay?”

He nodded jerkily. “yes, Benny.”

He lifted his foot again, pulling the shoe off, and putting on a new one after a moment.

Balthazar put his foot down again, testing it. He nodded again. “yes. This...fits. Sir – Benny.”

“so you’e a size twelve…” Benny murmured, getting to his feet with a grunt. “How are these – do you like these?”

He cautiously opened his eyes and looked down at his foot in the blue sneaker. It was neon coloured and hideous, but it was blue; and all he could think about was that he had said he preferred the colour blue. He wanted to ask if there was anything else, or if Benny had actually just chosen the first blue shoe he could see – but he didn’t. He nodded. “yes, Benny.”

“Good.” He held out the other shoe in the pair. “Here – you can wear them around the store and I’ll pay for them at the end with everything else.”

He swallowed and took the sneaker. He balanced on one foot, pulling the socks off and putting the shoe on, tying it loosely. He set his foot down and looked at his feet – looked at the shoes on his feet. Slaves didn’t get shoes – especially not slaves that were labeled as escape risks. He didn’t get shoes. He got his feet beaten and his bones broken so he had to crawl everywhere. And here was his master just...giving him shoes. Sensible shoes even – not heels or anything else designed to show off his body. Just regular sneakers as if it wasn’t a bad idea to give them to a slave – as if it didn’t invite the option of running.

If Balthazar hadn’t realised already that Benny had never had a slave before, this would have made it obvious.

Benny walked past him back to the cart, and he hurriedly turned to follow after him. He tired to ignore the feeling of sensible shoes on his feet, and how it felt weird after so long without them.

“Boxers.”

He almost looked up in surprise when Benny suddenly spoke again.

“Won’t ask you what your pant size is, pretty sure I won’t like the answer…”

He heard plastic being moved around, and after a few seconds, a pack of six boxers was shoved under his face.

“Are these okay?”

He blinked, and nodded in confusion.

“Can...can you feel them?” he gestured toward the window in the packaging. “Make sure they’re something you’d be okay wearing long term?”

He tried to think of any situation where he would be wearing boxers long term that wouldn’t be uncomfortable for many other reasons, but obediently reached out and touched the blue fabric. It was a soft jersey, and he did think it would be comfortable. He nodded again, putting his hand back in his pocket.

“Okay.” He threw the packet into the cart, and then Balthazar could hear him grab at least two more and throw them in too.

They walked further up the aisle, and Balthazar could see socks hanging off the hooks. He heard Benny grab a few packs of socks and throw them into the cart as well.

They walked to the end of the aisle, and circled around. Balthazar followed Benny’s feet blindly, his mind buzzing with anxiety as they walked.

They stopped down another aisle, and Balthazar stopped, waiting.

Benny was quiet for a moment, and eventually spoke ruefully. “Well. We know what size you ain’t, don’t we.”

He stroked the inside of the pockets on his trousers, unsure how to answer that.

“Can...Can you hold these up? Will they fit?”

there was a bundle of blue fabric under his nose and he mechanically took his hands out of his pockets to take it. He let it unfold itself, hanging from his hands. The sweat shirt was a bright blue, and felt soft under his fingers. He held it up to his shoulders with one hand, pressing the sides around him to judge its size. He licked his lips before speaking: “It...it won’t fit tightly, Benny.”

“Doesn’t have to – just don’t want it to swallow you whole. Do...is that right?”

He hesitated, and thought about what he wanted. The clothes he was getting – they seemed to be for his sake, for him to wear when he wasn’t being used. Or at least for him to wear until his body was healed enough to be attractive again – he couldn’t blame his masters for wanting to cover him up. His skeleton was nearly visible at the moment, and no one but a sadist could find him appealing. So he thought about it and held the sweat shirt up to his torso and imagined wearing it and eventually nodded. “Yes. I...yes, Benny.”

“Alright, cher. Go ahead and put it in the cart then, yeah?”

he reluctantly let go of the piece of clothing, dropping it into the cart.

As he stepped back, he saw Benny drop in an armful of more of the same fabric into the cart as well; and he let himself stare in confusion before he returned his eyes respectfully to the floor.

Benny walked through the store and tried not to imagine everyone’s eyes on him and Balthazar. He had at least managed to get him in shoes so he looked less pitiful – but he still didn’t look good, by any means. He tried to remind himself of what Crowley had said, and had settled for just focusing on his shopping list when that didn’t help either.

He crossed off shoes and the boxers and the sweats, and he grabbed a few packages of t-shirts to throw in the cart as they passed. He had managed to find everything in a shade of blue, and hoped that Balthazar didn’t have a super specific shade of blue that he preferred. He got him several pairs of flannel pyjamas in blue plaid, holding them out for Balthazar to approve before dropping them into the cart that was rapidly filling up. He tried to think of anything he had missed – any basic necessities that needed to be gotten that had been missed.

He took them on a detour through the furniture section to get a dresser, loading the box into the top of the cart and hoping it didn’t tip the whole thing over. He took a picture of it after it was loaded, texting it to Crowley with a smiley face before putting his phone away to ignore his husband’s outraged rant that quickly followed.

They stopped by the hygeine section, throwing several unscented soaps, and three new sets of towels and wash clothes – all in blue – for the omega. They stopped in the bedding section, and Benny finally admitted he needed a second cart. He stared at the blankets he wanted to pile into the cart, and the cart that was already full, and let out a sigh.

“I’ll be right back, ami – I’ve got to get another cart.” He waited for Balthazar to nod, before starting back for the entrance of the store.

He worried the whole way, worried someone would see Balthazar, would try to talk to him, would try to touch him.

And he knew Balthazar wouldn’t stop them – couldn’t stop them.

When he got back to the bedding aisle and saw nothing, his heart dropped through the floor until he heard the whimpering.

“….Balthazar?”

he slowly approached, leaving the cart at the opening of the aisle, and peeked around the original cart. He was almost relieved to see Balthazar sitting on the ground beside it, his knees pulled to his chest and his arms wrapped around them. He startled when he heard Benny, and quickly shifted, crawling over to him on his hands and knees before Benny could get closer.

“Please. Please, Master. I...please-” he was sobbing so hard he could barely speak, but they were so silent.

Benny stared at him in horror and confusion. “Balthazar? What...what happened?”

He wrapped his hands around Benny’s ankle, pressing his forehead to his shoe as he just repeated his pleading.

Chapter Text

He waited as long as he could, kneeling on the cold cement floor in the proper pose. He waited until he was shivering, until his stomach was growling from hunger and he couldn’t ignore the aches and pains anymore. He waited until he wondered if he had been forgotten, left alone for the moment. He waited until he couldn’t anymore, and then he slowly got to his feet.

He didn’t know why he did – he could have told himself that was a monumentally stupid idea – and yet…

He took a single faltering step, and his heart sank when he heard Zachariah laugh. “Trying to run?”

He froze, unable to even take a breath.

“Look at the little slut, trying to make a break for it.”

He shuddered, hearing his master walk over to him. He should be kneeling, should be begging forgiveness, should be swearing up and down that he wasn’t trying to run – not ever.

He didn’t get the chance to. Zachariah swung his baton, kicking his knees in so he hit the floor with a crack.

“I’m going to make you regret every thought you ever had, slut.”

He was crawling across the floor, trying to get away out of some panic driven need. He should be begging for mercy now – trying his best to offer himself up to please his master. He shouldn’t be infuriating him further – and yet he crawled, his tongue still frozen in his mouth. He knew he was making it worse and yet...ti didn’t seem to matter anymore.

“I leave you alone, and like every pathetic cockroach, you try to makea break for it. That’s what you all do, the second you’re alone. You can’t be trusted. Need to be reminded of your place.”

Zachariah caught his foot and did something to it, and Balthazar twisted onto his side with a scream as his leg was broken. He tried to pull his leg away on instinct – to do something to protect himself, but his master dug his fingers into his skin.

“You know what they do to unruly animals?”

He wasn’t an animal – he was a person. He was just like Zachariah – he was a person.

He screamed again as Zachariah broke his other leg, and he lay on the floor sobbing.

“Roll over and fucking present yourself. If you do a good job, I might not kill you for trying to escape.”

He couldn’t move, all he could feel was pain – agonising pain. He wasn’t going to walk again – he was never going to be able to do more than crawl. He was crippled, and who wanted a crippled slave? He was pretty much dead.

And yet…

He dragged himself to his knees, keening in pain. His hands were shaking as he tried to give Zachariah a blowjob, and he couldn’t tell if the salty taste in his mouth was from precum or from his tears. He tried his best, covered his teeth, went down until he couldn’t breathe and gagged around his cock. He wrapped his hands around his thighs, moaning as if he was enjoying it while he cried.he tried to make it good for his master, knowing that if he didn’t, Zachariah would just break something else until he got it right.

By the time he was shoved down onto the floor to be fucked, he wondered if it wouldn’t be easier to just die already; and he was ashamed at what he would rather let happen to him instead because of his cowardice.

Balthazar almost wished they had gone to a sex shop to get lingerie or test out toys. At least then he knew what to expect and how to act. Here, in a regular supermarket, being ordered not to stand properly at rest…

Well. Nothing happened. No one yelled at him, sneered at him, or even looked twice at him. No one cared.

And yet there were so many people – so many strangers. People came and went: alphas, omegas, and betas. Adults and children. So many people all at once – he didn’t realise how much there was until Benny was gone. He didn’t realise how loud it was until he no longer had to focus on following Benny’s feet so he didn’t get lost.

No, Benny left and he was suddenly lost.

He focused on the cart at first, holding on to the edge of it as if someone was going to try to push it away. He kept both hands on the edge, looking into the cart, and all he saw was blue. There were so many shades of blue – some tasteful and some looking like some alien had vomitted all over it but...everything was blue. When he risked a glance up at his surroundings to look for Benny’s return, all he could see was more blue – bedding this time – and it made something break inside of him and all of a sudden the world was too loud and too big and too cruel.

He crumpled to the floor without realising it, seeking the sanity of his trained place – only remembering at the last second that he wasn’t allowed to kneel here. He sat on his arse, pulling his knees to his chest and rocking slightly as he made a panicked noise in the back of his throat. He curled up beside the cart – just another bit of abandoned property – and told himself he wasn’t going to run. He knew it was a test and he wasn’t going to fail, not this time. He was going to stay here, on the ground, by the cart until he was dragged away or-

He thought about the slip collars the trainers used, thought about the zip-tie cuffs and the leashes and the cold water and those horrible groaning lifts and he thought of the dark basements that meant pain and traps and so many lessons on where his place was and where he belonged and – and Benny had never owned a slave before. He was obviously uncomfortable with Balthazar and his training and – and maybe he had gotten sick of him already. He...he had picked out all the blue, warm clothes and...and maybe he wasn’t coming back. Maybe he was just going to leave him here for the slave catchers to find, leave him to be dragged down in a basement and punished for not being good enough. Maybe he wasn’t good enough to deserve Benny. Maybe he should have tried harder to not be scared. Benny didn’t seem like a sadist – why did he always ruin good things? He was warm, and dry, and clean – he had bloody shoes on for Christ’s sake! Why was he never good enough? Why couldn’t he just be good?

“...Balthazar?”

He was moving before he properly even processed the voice, desperate for whomever knew him to take him under control again. He crawled towards the voice, begging desperately. He didn’t want to go to the basements – didn’t want to be dragged away to be trained again. He was good – he was good! He wasn’t going to run – he knew better!

“Balthazar? What...what happened?”

He knew he wasn’t begging properly – was vaguely aware that what was coming out of his mouth wasn’t the panicked assurances clamouring in his head but...he couldn’t stop. He curled up at Benny’s feet, trying to make him understand that he wanted to stay – that he would be so good and he was so tired of being trained, of being a failure. He tried to tell him that he learned fast – that he wasn’t stupid. He tried to tell him he would be good.

Hands were on his shoulders, pushing him back, and he shook his head. “No, No! Please – please. I-”

“Okay. Okay. Whatever it is. Whatever it is, cher – okay. I’ll make it happen.”

Benny’s voice was calm, but his scent was all over the place and Balthazar didn’t know what to believe.

“Okay uh...shit.”

he flinched and clamped his mouth shut – forced himself to shut up. Whatever happened next...it was always going to happen. He was never going to be able to avoid it no matter what he did.

He gasped as he was suddenly lifted off the ground, carried in a bridal carry with his head tucked into Benny’s chest. He didn’t struggle or stiffen, letting himself be moved.

He could hear Benny’s heart beating in his chest, could feel him breathing as he carried him somewhere. He kept his eyes closed and slowly started breathing with Benny. He folded his hands across his stomach as he felt the sun shine on his skin, and he let himself enjoy it for a moment.

He used to dream of this – being carried by an alpha to their bedroom, or into their home or just for fun sometimes. That was when he was young and stupid – back when he was oh so arrogant and proud.

Now he was old and still stupid, and there was no one that cared anymore.

He felt himself laid down on something soft and he distantly thought that it was nice to not get fucked on the hot asphalt.

He heard the door shut as he passed out and fell asleep.

“Okay – okay. I’m just going to lift you up, okay? I’m just going to…” He grit his teeth and pushed the still panicked omega back. He slid a hand under his knees and picked him up as he said he would, getting to his feet.

Balthazar was still too damn light for his height, and Benny tried not to think about that. He held him close, making sure his head fell against his chest instead of hanging backward, and breathed out in relief when Balthazar seemed to outwardly calm down again.

“sir? Do you need help? Do you need me to call an ambulance?”

He shook his head, thankful and disgusted with himself for being thankful that the scent suppressors hadn’t worn off yet. “No thanks. Just got a little worked up – I’m taking him outside and I’ll be right back in to pay.

The employee nodded quickly. “Of course. I will just hold your cart.”

“Thank you, cher – much obliged.” he said, hurrying to leave the building.

Balthazar turned his face slightly when they stepped out into the sun, and Benny looked down. “You doing okay?”

Balthazar didn’t answer, but didn’t seem to register that he had spoken at all.

“alright. Alright, cher – just gonna get you in the car, okay? Get you in the car, and you’ll be okay. You ain’t in trouble.” he promised.

He fumbled with the door knob when he reached his truck, getting it open without dropping his load. He half climbed into the back of the truck, laying Balthazar down in the back seat.

He thought he looked calmer at least, and Benny sighed and got back out of the truck. “Just got to finish the shopping – I’ll be right back. Just...stay.” he said, desperately hoping this wouldn’t set Balthazar off again.

He shut the door and locked the truck up, dropping the keys into the pocket of his pants as he ran back inside the store.

“Hey! Sir!”

he slowed by the cashiers, looking for who was calling him.

The employee from before waved at him, gesturing at his full cart.

“Oh. Thanks.” He strode over to him. “I’m...ready to check out.”

He nodded, turning on the register again. “Is...I hope your friend is going to be okay.” he said, starting to ring up the cart.

“yeah. Me too.” he agreed softly.

They worked in silence both trying to ignore Benny’s nervous glances to the doors.

“Okay – yeah, your total is...card?” he asked as Benny had already shoved the card into the reader.

“Yeah. Sorry.”

“No, I get it. You’ve got something more important.”

He smiled apologetically. “yeah…”

the employee nodded, handing him his receipt. “Good luck, sir!”

He nodded, pushing the cart quickly out to his vehicle,

He unlocked it first, opening the back door to check on Balthazar.

His entire body slumped in relief when he saw the Omega was sleeping.

He rested his head against the door frame and focused on breathing for a few seconds. “Good gravy…” he muttered before straightening. He shut the door quietly, and got to work throwing all of his purchases into the back of the truck and securing them down so they didn’t fly away. He focused on putting the cart back in a nearby corral, and then climbed into his truck and started it. He gripped his steering wheel and stared out of the windscreen. He checked the clock in the radio and breathed out.

“We...Let’s get some food.” he said to no one in particular as he put the truck in gear and started driving.

One day. One day it will be okay.

That’s what he told himself. One day it would be okay.

He didn’t know what okay was anymore. He didn’t know if ‘okay’ was ‘alright’ or ‘over’. He didn’t know if it really mattered. Maybe ‘okay’ was just ‘brain dead’. Then he wouldn’t have to feel anything.

He wondered if anyone missed him. He wondered how long they looked before they gave up and moved on with their lives. He wondered if they found mates, or had children – he wondered what had happened to them when he became yet another cautionary tale that was told to young omegas that dared to want to move beyond the gender stereotype.

He wondered if he would ever reach a point where he stopped wondering.

He was thirty years old today. It was his birthday.

Not that anyone cared of course but...he tried to find out when it was at least. Tried to mark the passage of time somehow.

He didn’t dream of being rescued anymore. Those dreams were dead. No one would want him back, not when he bent over on instinct, and was most comfortable kneeling on the ground. He wasn’t human anymore, not really.

Of course, he wasn’t an animal, or an item yet either – not entirely – but they were making progress in that direction.

He wondered if pets wondered about things. He wondered if animals that were abused tried to rationalise away why they were being hurt. He wondered if they ever forgot what it was like to hate someone and just...existed.

He wondered when he stopped hating his owners. He wondered if he wanted to stop.

He wondered if One Day would ever come again.

He wondered if he would ever be Okay.

Balthazar woke up with a start, the sinking feeling that something was wrong seizing him as he struggled to sit up.

“Hey – hey, you awake?”

He shook his head to clear the cobwebs out, trying to figure out what happened and where he was. His hands smoothed over the old fabric on the bench seat and he realised he was back in the car.

The car was slowing down, and Balthazar heard the turn signals turn on as they stopped on the side of the road. He heard movement in the front seat, and he started to try to get up – to get into something resembling a proper position.

“don’t move too fast, cher – you’re mighty tired and...well. We’ve still got one more stop.

The memories of the supermarket filtered back in as he woke up, and his heart sank as he realised they had left all of the clothes behind. His eyes watered, and he gripped the edge of the seat as he finally sat up properly.

“You okay? What’s – well. Nothing’s wrong. You haven’t done anything – I’m not made at you.” Benny hurried to say for some reason.

He wanted to apologise for ruining the shopping trip, wanted to ask for a second chance but...whores didn’t get to ask for anything besides getting fucked. So he nodded his head and kept his eyes down. “yes, Benny. I...thank you for helping me.”

His master was silent for a moment, and then there was a rustle of a paper bag. “I wasn’t sure when you would wake up, or what you like, so I got you a couple of baskets of fries, and some Sprite.” There was silence for a moment, and then the bag and bottle of soda was moved into his line of sight.

He blinked at the fast food, and slowly took it.

“Eat slowly, but..yeah. Eat up, cher.” Benny sounded relieved as he shifted back into his seat and turned the blinkers off.

Balthazar slowly opened the bag, smelling the hot fries.

His eyes watered again, and he wondered if maybe Okay might still happen one day.

Chapter Text

Benny hesitated outside of the door to the salon. He looked around the empty parking lot, and peered inside the window.

The only person he saw inside was sitting in a salon chair, one foot tucked up underneath her while she scrolled on her phone. As she glanced up at the clock on the wall, he tried the door.

It opened and he walked inside. “Uh...I’m sorry – I was supposed to be here at three?”

she looked at him and hopped off the chair. “right – Benny, yeah? I’m Molly. We spoke on the phone.”

He nodded, looking around at the mostly darkened salon. “do – should I come back? Has something happened?”

she shook her head quickly. “No. I sent the rest of the stylists home early – paid them the difference. You said your friend just got out of an abusive situation and...I didn’t want to overwhelm him.” she smiled a little. “I..I know what it’s like.”

“You do?”

She nodded. “Yeah. Had a...bad ex. Not important anymore. Now, where’s your friend?” she looked around behind him. “No offense – but your hair isn’t in need of dematting.” she said wryly.

He laughed a little. “Yeah, the services ain’t for me.” he hesitated.

“Is your friend alright?”

He sighed. “In all openness. He...he’s a slave.” He swallowed and pressed on. “I bought him and I don’t want to keep him – but I just got him and there hasn’t been any progress made-”

she put a hand on his arm. “...and you’re trying to help him.”

He felt exhausted. “Don’t think I’m doing much, if any good.”

she nodded sympathetically. “At least you’re trying.”

He nodded. After a moment he straightened up. “Alright uh...His name is Balthazar and..”

She nodded. “I understand – go ahead and get him. I’ll do what I can.” she promised.

He left the salon and headed back to his truck.

The ride in the truck had been peaceful. The food had been good, and the company...well, it hadn’t been awful. Benny never tried to touch him, or talk to him – or anything. Balthazar was almost coming to expect to be left alone by now.

Almost. He wasn’t that stupid.

When they stopped he stiffened. He unbuckled himself and waited for the door to open and it..didn’t. He dared a glance up, and saw Benny walking away from the truck before he looked back at his feet. He clasped his hands together in his lap, trying to find his center and stay calm. His mistakes from earlier in the day – every time he had made a pathetic mess of himself – played over in his mind and he wondered if he was being dropped off for retraining.

Every shred of safety fled his mind, and he suddenly knew that was what was happening. He wasn’t good enough and they were going to fix him so he didn’t shame his masters. He was going to be dragged underground and hosed down and it was going to be so cold-

And he wasn’t going to fight it.

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, telling himself he wasn’t going to fight it. Training wasn’t meant to break someone physically – only mentally, and that wasn’t as bad. His training was lapsed – he was so used to fighting for survival that he didn’t remember how to serve properly. He wanted to be reminded – he wanted to be good.

Benny deserved that. And Benny would get a sort of training too. He would get videos and brochures and pamphlets – and by the time Balthazar was released, he would know how to act and what to expect. His existance would have purpose again.

The door opened and he couldn’t hide his flinch.

“Hey. They’re still open – ready to get your hair fixed?” Benny asked.

He nodded. He supposed mangy, matted hair wasn’t fit for the likes of his new owners – it would only make sense that they would shave it off.

He hoped that his hair wasn’t the only reason he was being sent back to the basements, and he climbed out of the truck. He landed on the pavement and folded his hands behind his back, moving to the side so Benny could shut the door.

“She seems really nice. She closed up the whole salon just for us, and she’s going to do her best to save your hair. Really don’t want to have to do anything you ain’t consenting to, and since you can’t really consent to anything…” he started walking away, and Balthazar hurried to keep up.

“But...if you’re uncomfortable – we stop, okay?” he was quiet for a moment. “Okay, cher?” he pressed.

He nodded. “yes, Benny.”

His master smelled disappointed, but opened the door of the salon and walked in.

Balthazar walked close behind him, watching Benny’s feet.

“Is this…” a woman’s voice spoke. “Hello, Balthazar. Here, sit in this chair – wait, no.” she said, as if interrupted.

“...can we sit on the floor?” Benny asked.

“Sure – of course!” she said, walking quickly away.

Balthazar listened to her footsteps, not even having a moment to panic about the chair before the plans had changed.

The footsteps came back, and a chair cushion was put on the floor.

Balthazar immediately folded down onto it, relieved. He breathed out and felt calm again – felt safe even.

“Oh, you poor thing…” the woman said softly, and knelt beside him. “I’m Molly. I’m going to...try to fix your hair, is that okay?”

he tilted his head slightly to listen for Benny, feeling him settle onto the ground on the other side of him. He hesitantly nodded.

“alright.”

He felt hands in his hair, lifting and testing the matts.

The three of them sat in silence as she assessed his hair, and eventually she was the first to speak again. “the hair...i don’t...I don’t think it can be saved.” she sounded apologetic.

“But-”

“I know. And I understand. But hair like yours, Balthazar – it’s not meant to be caught up like this. And with the lack of cleaning, and the mistreatment…”

She sat back and put her hands in her own lap. “it will be incredibly unhealthy if I do fix it – and sparse. I can already see balding patches. It...it would be easier – and kinder – to just shave it off.”

Balthazar thought he should be scared about the prospect of losing control of another aspect of his life.

But his hair was disgusting. Even he knew that. There was cum and piss and blood and dirt caked into it and it would be more efficient to just chop it off.

“No. No – we will just go somewhere else.” Benny said.

Maybe if they chopped it off it could grow back nicely – maybe he would be allowed to take care of it. He was getting regular meals again, maybe he could be allowed to take care of himself properly. Maybe he could dress himself up and make himself feel human again, even if he wasn’t allowed to act like it.

“Benny. It’s not….”

“Benny?” he asked in a rough voice.

He could scent the concern and worry, and feel the sudden attention on him. He could feel the panic rising in his chest again and he tried to unlock his tongue.

“Yeah? What is it, Balthazar? What’s wrong?”

he tensed his muscles to hide his trembling. “Please. Cut it off. Just...get it over with.” he begged.

Benny tensed.

“are you sure, Balthazar?” Molly asked.

He nodded quickly. “yes. Yes – please.”

she got up from the floor, going away to get her tools.

Benny got up too. “I won’t let you cut it off – he doesn’t know…”

she was walking back. “Benny. I know you mean well but...the start of healing is to listen to what he says. If he wants it shaved off, then I will do what he wants.”

Balthazar stopped breathing as she spoke to Benny – his master. He was shaking his head before he realised it. “No. No – I – I swear. I swear, master. I didn’t mean – I didn’t mean to …” there was a lump in his throat and he felt like he still couldn’t breathe. He was stammering words, pleas – begging Benny to believe that he would never do anything he wanted. “I’ll always obey you – I swear. Please, master-”

Benny was kneeling beside him, resting a hand on his shoulder; and Balthazar finally clamped his mouth shut. He let out a shuddering breath and tried to listen to his master.

“Okay. Okay – we will shave it off.” Benny said softly. “I’m sorry, cherie.”

Balthazar blinked at the floor, confusion taking over his panic.

Benny dropped his hand again, and Balthazar heard the clippers start.

He felt them move over his head, cutting off the matts one at a time. He let out his tension in a breath of relief, sinking in on himself as he let everything wash over him.

Benny crouched on the floor beside Balthazar and tried to let Balthazar’s words – Balthazar’s begging – bounce off his mind and not be committed to memory.

He felt disgusted by himself. The whole time he had been so focused on doing what Balthazar wanted – and then when Balthazar expressed an opinion, he had just bulldozed past it like an asshole. How was that any better than the men who had raped him for the last ten years?

Molly glanced over at him. “...it’s not your fault.”

He looked at her.

“Really. It’s not. I don’t think he freaked out about you.” she moved around so she could reach the back of his head. “Halfway done, Balthazar.”

“It’s not even the first time it’s happened today.”

“You could have rescheduled-!”

He sighed. “We were already out…”

He looked at Balthazar kneeling on the cushion, and felt ill at how relaxed he looked now. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“Does anyone?”

“Someone should – someone who-”

“But there isn’t anyone else. Is there.”

“Surely there’s...resources. Somewhere.”

She shook her head, moving over to Balthazar’s unfinished side. “Hard enough to find resources for domestic violence victims – it’s got to be even harder for trafficked victims. You’ve got a good heart.” she looked at him. “Just listen to him. When he says something, listen.”

He watched her, quiet.

“Oh! And healing isn’t linear,” she recited. “There’s...one step forward, two steps back – you’re going to cover ground a lot of times before it sinks in.”

Balthazar almost looked peaceful, with his hands behind his back and his face leaning towards the floor.

“Sounds like you’ve been through this before.”

She shrugged. “something like it, like I said. Abuse is similar in a lot of ways, and different in others. The most important thing is that he has people he can rely on no matter what.”

“I...don’t know if I can do that for him. Be that for him. I’m just...I’m a line cook who doesn’t have the first clue what I’m doing. I’m no therapist or…” he sighed. “He just keeps breaking down, and I only seem to be making it worse.” He laughed a little, rubbing a hand over his face. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“No one ever does.” she shut off her clippers and got to her feet. “But look at him. He trusts you.”

He frowned. “No he – he just begged me in terror. That’s not trust. That...that’s not trust. He’s scared of me – with good reason. I mean-”

“Nonsense.” she was putting several bottles of product into a bag. “He...it’s small. But he trusts you to at least keep him. I think for him...that’s a big thing.”

He sighed, looking at Balthazar. “Yeah…”

She smiled at him. “You’re a good man – you’ll manage.”

“I’ll try…” he admitted.

She nodded, walking back with the bag. “Here. It’s some shampoos and soaps for him. Stuff for dry skin, and skin conditions. I put in some lotions, and some scentless soaps…” she looked in the bag to see if she missed anything.

“thanks.” He got to his feet, pulling out h is wallet. “What do I owe you?”

she shook her head. “Nothing. It was just a haircut.”

“...and the products. And the stylists-” he broke off when he recognised the stuborn set of her jaw. “...at least let me tip you.”

She handed him the bag. “No. thanks, but no. The budget could handle it and...like you said. Resources.”

He tried to think of another tactic.

She patted her arm. “Go home. Eat something with Balthazar, and get better.”

“Alright, ami – I’ll let you win this one.” he said wryly. “Hey, Balthazar?” he asked in a softer voice.

Balthazar straightened immediately, paying attention again.

“We – it’s time to go home, can you stand?”

He nodded, unfolding himself from the ground and standing. He walked over to Benny, standing beside him.

Benny looked at Molly again, nodding at her. “Thank you. For...everything.”

She nodded. “Take care. Both of you.”

He smiled, and led Balthazar out and back to the truck.

Chapter Text

Benny parked in his spot, turning off the truck. He turned in his seat to see Balthazar, but he hesitated when he saw the omega was slumped against the door – sound asleep. He watched him, and gently spoke: “Hey. Balthazar?”

He didn’t move in any way.

“Balthazar, we’re home – can you wake up?”

He mumbled something unintelligible and curled further against the door.

Benny thought about waking him up – either speaking louder, or reaching out to shake him – and just as quickly dismissed the thought. He didn’t have the heart to wake him up when he finally looked relaxed.

He got out of the truck and walked around the front. He carefully opened Balthazar’s door, reaching inside to catch him before he fell out. He paused, expecting Balthazar to wake up at the touch or the movement; and sighed when he didn’t. He opened the door the rest of the way, shifting Balthazar onto his other arm so he could reach around and unbuckle him before picking him up entirely.

He waited again for Balthazar to wake up, but all the Omega did was cuddle against him. He looked down at him, feeling a lump in his throat.

He shoved the door shut and started carrying Balthazar inside, back to the apartment.

Maybe he was making progress. Maybe, on some level, Balthazar was starting to trust him. It wasn’t much but...he hadn’t even been here a week. It would take time. Time for both of them, Benny reminded himself. Maybe when he didn’t have a panic attack every time Benny turned around – maybe that would help too, he thought wryly.

He hoped he was having a good dream – hoped that at least in his subconscious he had good memories.

“It’ll be okay, cher.” he whispered. “I’ll make sure it’s okay.”

“Isn’t this better?” she stroked his hair back from his face, ignoring the sweat that soaked it. “Isn’t this easier?”

He whimpered, turning into her touch.

“If only you were this good all the time, I wouldn’t have to train you…”

“No, please-”

Her hand turned cruel in his hair, yanking his head up to face her. “What did you say to me?”

He was shaking. “Please, please – I’m sorry. I’m sorry – I didn’t mean-”

“You thankless whore.” She dragged him off the floor.

He struggled to get his feet under him, his hands that were cuffed behind his back making an abortive movement to get to his hair. “Please, Mistress – I didn’t mean-”

“Are you saying I didn’t hear right?”

He was shaking violently. “Please, Mistress – have mercy. Please, have mercy.”

she dragged him over to the cabinet, yanking it open and pulling out one of the syringes.

He was crying. “I..I’ll be good – I swear. I’ll do what you want – I’ll do better – you don’t have to-”

She wrenched his head up. “I don’t have to do anything.” Her red-lipped smile was vicious. “I want to.” she uncapped the syringe and injected it into his arm.

He shuddered at the feeling, already knowing what was coming. First there was the fire inside his skin, heating him up so slowly until he wanted to claw his own skin off to relieve the pressure. Then there was the need. There was the sickening feeling in his stomach and he would feel empty until he got filled – he would feel like he was dying if he wasn’t filled. He would beg, he would offer anything, he would do anything. He would cut off his own fucking arm if he could just be fucked until the heat went away, until he was finally full.

He hated it, and he struggled against her hand until she dropped him. His head cracked against the floor, and he lay there limply until his vision cleared.

He whimpered, trying to push himself up. “Make it stop – please, mistress. Please….I can’t do this again-” already the heat was building in him, crawling under his skin.

She was walking away from him, towards her throne.

He tried to get off the floor, tried to crawl after her. “Please – please don’t make me do this again!”

“Make you?” she sat down and crossed her legs, lounging back in her chair. “I don’t have to make you do anything while you’re like this. I don’t even have to scruff you. I just have to…” she inspected her nails, “wait.”

He grit his teeth, curling up into the fetal position on the floor. He wrapped his arms around himself and tried to remember how to breathe.

He just had to breathe.

He was hot – way too hot. He felt like he was burning up. Everything was so hot and tight and….

He woke up with a gasp. He kept his eyes shut, trying to give himself a moment of peace. He was hot and sweaty and...buried under blankets?

He scented the air and when he found himself alone, slowly started to push the blankets off. He waited for the yelling to start, to be dragged out of the bed by his hair and reminded of how grateful he should be to have blankets at all; but the cool air of the room was a relief against his sweat-soaked skin, and he opened his eyes.

He looked around the office, at the bags all over the floor, and looked at all of the blankets that had been double-folded and laid all over him as he slept.

He reached out and hesitatantly touched the blankets, trying to remember how he got onto the cot that was his bed. He dragged in a breath through clenched teeth and tried to take stock of himself – of what new things hurt since he was last conscious.

He felt his stomach turn as he realised he had no idea how long he had been unconscious – the state of his body might have already recovered from what was done to him.

He started shaking again.

They could have had him out for months – they could have done-

He buried his head in his hands as he struggled to takea deep breath, and he felt the stubble-

The stubble. They shaved his head.

He slumped. His hair hadn’t grown and nothing new hurt. And...he was wearing the same clothes.

Nothing had happened. Yet.

Not that he would stop them if they did happen he just...he wanted to know what happened – wanted to know how he had been used. It made it...better. Somehow.

He pushed the blankets the rest of the way off his legs and stopped himself before he knelt on the floor. He twisted around, finding and grabbing the pillow he was supposed to kneel on. He put it down, and slid off the cot to kneel on it. He waited there – listening hard for any sound as he woke up.

He was ready, he was willing – and yet, no one came.

He carefully raised his head again, looking around the room once more. It was still just an ordinary, expensive office. Still filled with dark furniture, and entirely too many grocer’s bags on the floor. It smelt of Crowley, and some old sex – and there were plastic bags on the floor?

He looked sharply back at them, and then looked warily at the door. When no one came in, he cautiously got to his feet. His eyes darted between the bags and the door, and he stood frozen – fear and curiosity warring inside of him.

He whimpered and crumpled back down onto the cushion, curling himself down onto the floor into the proper position.

The tightness in his chest relaxed, and he felt like he could breathe again. He stared at the hardwood floor under his eyes, and again tried to listen to what was going on outside of the room.

There was a knock on the door, and he froze.

“...Balthazar?”

He didn’t move, willing Benny to...walk away – to just give him some time to himself.

“Balthazar, I’m coming in, okay? If you’re awake...I brought you a couple of sandwhiches.” he said, slowly opening the door.

He tried to press himself lower to the floor.

“Okay. You are awake.”

He heard him walk across the floor towards him, and he tried to make himself sit up in the proper pose.

He was standing over him, and Balthazar swallowed and made himself sit up. “How may I serve you, Master…” he trailed off as a plate of sandwhiches appeared below his gaze.

Benny hesitated before putting the plate down, but he only smelt faintly of disappointment. “Sorry – didn’t...well. Didn’t want to wake you. Were you already awake?” He straightened up and fell silent. “...anyway. Those sandwhiches are for you. I’m just...here to fix your dresser.”

He blinked at the sandwhiches, and then reached for one. He ate it slowly, chewing the meat and fighting the urge to moan in pleasure at the taste of actual food. His eyes drifted closed and he savoured the taste of real, substantial, good food.

Benny moved and his eyes flew open. He paused in eating, watching Benny’s feet move across the floor to the pile of plastic bags.

Benny lowered himself to the floor, pulling a box out of the pile.

He took another bite, chewing it carefully – he didn’t want to choke; or god forbid, throw up again.

He carefully looked in Benny’s direction, making sure to only glimpse the minimum of what he was doing – ready to look straight below at the floor the second his master paid attention to him again. He chewed his sandwich to mush, and watched as his master took all of the pieces out of the dresser box and lay them out on the floor before he opened up the instruction.

He worked slowly – he cross checked pieces and screws with the list in the instructions, and he organised everything on the floor in the order it would be used. By the time he set the instruction pamphlet aside and started actually assembling the piece, Balthazar was almost relaxed.

It was nice. It was nice to see muscles being used to build something instead of to break it. Benny was sure of himself – aware of himself when he moved. He didn’t do anything quickly, he was so calm and collected…

Balthazar knew that when Benny punished him, it would be because he deserved it, and not just because he wanted to – or wanted to take it out on the closest piece of property he could.

That surprised him, that realisation. He dropped his gaze back to the floor in front of him and tried to understand. He shouldn’t trust him. Masters were cruel. Masters bent you over in front of their party guests and fucked you bloody, and then invited everyone else to do the same. Masters got turned down at work, and came home and flogged you until your heart stopped working. Masters were cruel, and malicious, and only ever wanted pain and humiliation. Their methods might be different, but they all ended in the same way.

He stared at the sandwhich that was still in his hands and blinked away his tears. He wanted to believe Benny – wanted to believe that the needless pain was over – but he couldn’t. He didn’t dare. He had to believe that the other shoe was going to drop or...or…

“Hey. Hey. You’re okay. You’re okay.”

He flinched, dropping the few bites he had left of a sandwhich. He felt a hand on his arm and froze.

“Take a deep breath. Please? Whatever happened, I’m sorry.”

He smelled panic – all he smelled was panic. He didn’t know what was happening – who was scared. Was Benny scared? Why was Benny scared? He couldn’t do anything1 He didn’t do anything! He promised – it wasn’t him! It wasn’t-

There was a hand on his nape and he collapsed like a puppet with it’s strings cut.

“I’m sorry – I’m so sorry, Balthazar.”

This was it. This was finally it.

“Your scent – it’s come back, that’s all. You’re scared, that’s what you’re scenting. That’s what I scented. Nothing’s wrong, cher – okay? I’m gonna let go of you now…”

This was it, the kindness ended, the food ended, he had to earn his keep, he had to – he dragged in a breath as Benny pulled his hand away.

“Thank you, Master, for showing me my place,” he recited on instinct.

“don’t...don’t do that. Please. Just…” Benny sighed. “You okay there?”

He swallowed, trying to rein in his scent again. The scent he couldn’t control – the scent his last two masters had done their best to train him not to control.

He felt himself starting to panic again, the scent sending him in a spiral of increasing fear that he couldn’t stop and couldn’t control, before he was suddenly pulled around.

He shuddered. “Please, please – no, I’m sorry – I’m sorry, please-” His words were muffled as he was pressed up against Benny, as his nose was pressed to Benny’s scent gland.

Calm. Rain. A little like sandlewood. Something homey – like coming home. Safe – he shouldn’t feel safe, but right then…

He could feel Benny’s chest rising and falling with each breath, and his own slowly matched his masters.

When he eventually put his arms behind his back out of habit, Benny finally let him go.

“...better?”

He blinked at Benny’s chest and nodded in silent confusion.

“Alright. Then I’ll...get back to...that.” he made a gesture at his building project with his arm, and Balthazar hastily redirect his gaze to the floor where it belonged.

“Keep eating. Please.” he said gently, before shifting back and turning away from Balthazar.

Benny felt sick. He moved back to his building project and sat on the floor again, staring at it. He felt sick. Scruffing Balthazar...it was necessary, yes – so was the scenting – but...he still felt horrible. He felt like he was forcing him, felt like he was little better than everyone else who had scruffed him to make him behave. To “know his place”, like he had said. It was disgusting.

He took another deep breath, trying to calm his own scent and ignore the jumble of scents coming from behind him. He could hear Balthazar continue to eat, and he took that as a win.

He picked up his screwdriver, and the piece he was working on; and tried to focus. He bit his lip in concentration and tried not to sit there and analyse Balthazar’s scent.

It was bitter – tainted by the panic and fear and dread that seemed to make up Balthazar’s entire personality now. And there was confusion, so much confusion. Benny could guess why – he doubted that Balthazar had ever been treated nicely in his recent history, so of course basic decency was confusing.

He hoped it got better. He didn’t know what milestones he was looking for but...he hoped they reached them.

He glanced at the window, remembering finding Balthazar falling out of it, and amended himself: he hoped they reached them soon.

Chapter Text

Benny sat back on his heels and looked at the dresser he had finished. He pulled a drawer out and pushed it back, testing it; and he nodded. He braced his hand against the floor and got to his feet, stretching. “Well, that’s done…” He pushed the dresser further back until it sat against the bookshelf. He turned around to look at Balthazar, catching him quickly directing his gaze to the floor when he turned. “You can go ahead and put your things in the dresser, okay? Take your time.” He said, trying to sound calm.

“yes, Benny.”

He watched him, and then left the room.

He went to the kitchen first, grabbing a bottle of beer from the fridge before trudging towards the living room. He sank onto the couch and stretched his legs out in front of him. He popped the cap off his beer and took a long drink. He leaned his head back on the couch, looking up at the ceiling, and closed his eyes.

He dug his phone out of his pocket and unlocked it. He sank a little deeper into the couch and opened up the browser app. He typed in a cursory search for blue blankets and started scrolling through the results.

He heard the door open, looking up with relief.

Crowley hesitated before he slowly closed the door. “...did the suppressors wear off, or did you kidnap someone?” he called.

“They wore off.” he called back, starting to open some of the results for a closer look.

“Is the bedroom safe?” Crowley walked into the living room, and arched an eyebrow at him. “Was it that bad?”

He looked up. “Do I look that bad?”

He shrugged. “You don’t look good.”

“I’m fine – just...been a long day. Had enough panic attacks to fill a week.”

Crowley took his shoes off and walked over to him. He sat down beside him. “Mmm.”

Benny wrapped an arm around him, setting his phone down.

“...are you looking for more blankets?”

He chuckled. “yeah. Didn’t have time to pick them up at the store, so I’m just gonna order some.”

He grimaced. “Ah yes. The store. Where you bought that eyesore from.”

“Just wait til you see what else I got him.”

He narrowed his eyes. “….what else.”

He grinned, relaxing with his husband. “Just some clothes. Blue clothes.”

“Blue?”

“he said he liked blue.” he shrugged.

“ah. So you bought everything in blue.”

“Except for the dresser.”

“Yes…” he looked around. “Where is the blue man group?”

“In his room, I suppose. I just…we both needed a moment.”

he leaned over and kissed him. “Order in tonight, pet?”

He nodded as Crowley got up. “Sounds great.”

His scent was back. They could tell what he was thinking, when he was thinking it, how much he hesitated, and how scared he was. But, they could also tell how sorry he was when he messed up – how much he desperately wanted to please him. It was a double edged blade, scenting.

He heard Benny close the door behind him, and carefully raised his head. He looked around the room, seeing no one was there with him. He wondered if they would finally punish him that night, and reminded himself that he would take whatever they gave him.

He saw the bags by the finished dresser and he stared at them. He slowly got to his feet, glancing at the door again. He waited, waited for someone to come back – to scream at him for his audacity – but no one did. He cautiously walked towards the bags of blue fabric.

Benny had said they were clothes and Balthazar didn’t dare to hope. He had embarrassed Benny in the supermarket, had broken down and messed up so many times today that the clothes…

He reached down and peered inside the nearest bag, seeing the boxers he had touched in the Target looking back at him. He picked up the packet and clutched it close to his chest. He squeezed his eyes shut and hugged it tightly, his chest tight as emotions ran through him.

He got the clothes. The clothes they had gotten at the supermarket – Benny had still bought them for him.

He sank to his knees, digging through the rest of the bag. There were enough boxers to last him three weeks without laundry. There were socks in the next bag – thick, warm, and soft. He found t-shirts next. They were several shades of blue – some navy, and some neon – and they were so soft against his fingers. He didn’t know they made shirts that soft… There were at least seven bags of joggers, and as he looked in each bag, he started to cry with an emotion other than terror.

His debt to Benny was incalculable at this point – he didn’t think he would ever be able to pay his master back for this, for the privilige of warm clothes. Regular clothes. He wondered what he was expected to do to earn them, but he couldn’t find himself to care as he brought a jumper to his cheek and stroked the fabric. Not caring – that was terrifying. He was...he was content here, with his lot here.

It was disgusting. A few days without regular beatings, and clothes to wear when he wasn’t being used and he was geniunely grateful and pathetically willing to do anything they wanted.

He started to slowly unpack the clothes, setting them into the dresser drawers.

They were his, for now. And they were blue, all hideously blue. They were soft, and warm, and he could wear them whenever he wanted.

He glanced back at the door, biting his lip.

He toyed with the hem of the oversize sweatshirt he was wearing, sitting back on his heels. He didn’t know if he was allowed to strip without immediately being used for someone else’s pleasure. The concept of just...changing clothes was…

Well. If this was what got him the beating he deserved, at least the waiting would be over.

He pulled the loose shirt off, grabbing a t-shirt from the drawer and pulling it on. He grabbed one of the new sweatshirts next, pulling it on over his shirt. He stood, pulling at the drawstring and letting the loaned trousers slip to the floor. He pulled on a pair of his own boxers, and then a pair of his new trousers before sitting on the floor and putting on a pair of fuzzy sock.

He stared at his feet, wiggling his toes, and broke down sobbing.

He buried his face in his hands and cried.

It was almost normal. It was almost…

he couldn’t even think about what it was almost like, the scars from the last time aching at the mere thought of it. He didn’t dare to think that he could be cared for, didn’t dare to think that maybe he would be okay here – that he would be treated well. He learned his lesson last time.

So he cried for something he couldn’t think about, surrounded by soft, warm clothes, that were his.

Eventually, Balthazar finished putting away his new clothes. He folded the ones he had been loaned, neatly stacking them up and carrying them as he stood up. He took a breath, trying to settle his scent to something hopefully subtle. He walked to the door of his room, hesitating again when he reached it. His hand was shaking as he reached out for the handle, and he opened the door with his eyes squeezed shut.

Nothing happened, and he cautiously relaxed again.

The hardwood floor of the hallway was under his gaze, and he started walking towards the kitchen. He made himself hold the borrowed clothes away from his body so they absorbed as little of his scent as possible, knowing no one liked his smell.

The kitchen was empty when he reached it, but the alphas were close. He swallowed his whimper of anxiety, and started walking towards the living room.

He stopped when he entered the room, his legs threatening to give out on him. “I...I thank you, sir. Thank you.” he said sincerely. “Whatever you..whatever you want in return, Benny – I will do it.”? He promised, his voice barely shaking.

The scent of the alphas’ immediately soured, and he clutched the clothes close in fear. He started to kneel, and then stopped when he realised he hadn’t grabbed his pillow. He stayed upright, swaying slightly.

“You..don’t have to thank us. For that. For clothes.” Benny said finally.

“Then what...what do I have to thank you for?” he asked, desperately. He had to know – he had to know what the expectations are.

Benny smelled angry.

“Relax, pet. We just want you to be healthy.” Crowley said.

“Healthy, sir?”

There was a pause. “Yes. Healthy. Looking human instead of a walking skeleton.”

“I am...not appealing?” it didn’t matter what he looked like, he knew that – all that mattered was how much pain he could be put through before he passed out. All that mattered was how prettily he begged to get raped. All that mattered was how terrified he smelled. “I can be appealing – I was trained-”

Benny made a sudden movement, and Balthazar flinched violently back from him – again, half going to his knees before he forced himself to keep standing.

Crowley had a hand around Benny’s wrist. “I speak for both of us when I say you could never be attractive to either of us.”

He stared at their feet, longing to believe them – and hurt by the dismissal at the same time.

They loved each other. Two alphas, together alone. It wasn’t impossible – but it was rare enough. Balthazar couldn’t figure out where he fit within their dynamic, and didn’t know how to ask.

“...please. Please – please use me, Master. I...It’s what I’m good for.” he was crying again, still clutching the old clothes to his chest. “I don’t...I don’t understand. I won’t fight – I promsie. I’ll be good. I’ll enjoy it, just like you want – I can’t… please!”

There was silence where the only thing that moved through the air was three panicked scents.

Crowley broke the silence first. “Uh...no. I’ve been called a devil, but even I draw the line at rape.” He got up from the couch, and Balthazar dragged in a breath as Crowley walked over toward him.

He took away the old clothes and held out another decorative pillow. “Here. Kneel before you break something trying not to.”

He didn’t sound upset, and his scent was so calming… Balthazar took the pillow and gracefully folded to the floor at Crowley’s feet. He clasped his hands behind his back and felt his anxiety settle.

“...tomorrow. Tomorrow you will start working.”

He closed his eyes in relief.

“Crowley-”

“He needs something, Benjamin. We can...we will figure something out.”

There was silence again.

“...I think you should go to the cafe tomorrow, pet.” Crowley walked back to Benny.

“You have work.”

Crowley sat down beside his husband. “You need a break. You’re burning out.”

“And what would you suggest I do about…”

“I promise I won’t kill him.” Crowley said dryly.

“...that’s not funny, cher.”

Balthazar listened as the alphas sat in silence above him, and he wondered what his day with Crowley would be like. He wondered what rules would be explained. He thought he should be scared – but all he felt was relief. The waiting was over. He was going to be broken in and put through his paces.

He flinched as the doorbell rang.

Benny got to his feet and was pulled back down by Crowley.

Balthazar heard them kissing each other, and curled further in on himself.

Benny pulled away. “Alright – alright. Just...let me get the food.”

Crowley laughed quietly, getting up from the couch and going to leave the room.

Balthazar retreated to his room the second he was given permission to, a meal and two cups of water better off.

“...did you get him any presentable clothes?” Crowley asked dryly, pouring himself another glass of scotch.

“I got him things he’d be comfortable in, hopefully.”

“what about my eyes?”

Benny raised an eyebrow at him and started gathering up the take-out containers. “So. You said he starts work tomorrow. Conveniently, the day you’re sending me back to work.”

“I don’t plan to sleep with him if that’s what you’re worried about.” he sounded disgusted.

Benny rolled his eyes. “I ain’t stupid, cher.”

“Good. I was worried if I’d been saddled with a nitwit.” he spat before sipping his drink.

“You still ain’t answered the question.” he turned back with a cloth to wipe down the table.

“Simple chores, that’s all. Some dusting, vacuuming – maybe even do the dishes. Nothing strenuous. He just...he needs rules, routine. Omegas always do better with a stable routine, no matter what it is. They feel better when they can rely on the same things to happen every day.”

He frowned slightly.

“Obviously, it’s not going to be the routine he is used to.” Crowley said flatly. “But any routine at all will help.”

He nodded slowly. “Rowena?”

he hummed. “She can be useful for something, ocassionally.”

Benny snorted. “You know you love her.”

“Do I?”

He chuckled, tossing the washcloth back into the sink. “We should invite her over.”

“Now?”

“No, not now! Maybe...I mean – it’s been a while.”

Crowley knocked on the wooden table. “Let’s keep it that way.”

“Your animosity…” he shook his head fondly and sat down, taking Crowley’s hand. “Are...are you sure you want to stay home alone with him tomorrow?”

“I can work from home – I’d rather you don’t have a breakdown, thank you very much.”

“I’m fine.” he said.

“Are you?”

He sighed and looked at the table between them.

“Caretakers get burnout – you need to take care of yourself too.”

“Where’d you learn that from.”

He smiled a little. “Mother dearest used to quote it to me before going to get laid.”

He chuckled and shook his head. “And that’s the advice you want to go with?”

He shrugged. “She wasn’t wrong.”

“...what if he thinks we are just using him for labour? Aren’t there slaves who clean the house and such?”

“I really don’t care, pet. I’d rather he thinks he’s a maid, rather than a sex toy.”

He huffed. “I’d rather he think he’s a human like the rest of us…”

“Yes well. We don’t always get what we want, do we.”

“...seems unfair.” he said softly, thinking of Balthazar alone in his room.

Crowley kissed the back of his hand. “Come, sweetheart. Come sit on the couch with me.”

Chapter Text

Balthazar grit his teeth and yanked as hard as he could against the leather straps that bound him to the metal chair. Water dripped off him from the hosing down he had just gotten, and he shivered as he sat – naked and wet – in the cold air.

He looked around the empty, cement room, blinking at the harsh fluorescent lights overhead – and he screamed in frustration before slumping back in his seat. He was breathing heavily, glaring at the door the attendants had left through with the hose. He twisted his wrists in the straps, unable to just sit still and wait for whatever was coming.

Whatever was coming – he knew what was coming. Every omega knew what came if they got themselves caught.

He struggled against the restraints again, missing the sound of the door opening.

“Balthazar Shurley.”

He looked up sharply at the sound of a voice, and glared at the older beta who walked in. “Fuck you, you hairless ape.” he spat.

“Oh, that’s a pity…” he smiled, walking toward him as Balthazar struggled in vain against the leather straps.

“I will beat your brains in – let. me. go.”

“That’s not going to happen.” he said calmly. “You know that, of course…” He reached out to touch Balthazar’s hair – pulling back sharply when the omega tried to bite him. “My name is Azazel.” He gripped Balthazar’s hair and yanked his head back, baring his throat.

Balthazar tried to keep struggling, but Azazel slipped his other hand behind his neck and gripped his nape. He went limp and still in his chair, panic racing through his veins. Napes were sensitive – everyone knew that. Everyone also knew that one didn’t just...touch them! Not unless you were the parents, and even that stopped at a certain age. He felt like he couldn’t breathe right – he couldn’t even speak.

Azazel was still smiling down at him, stroking his cheek. “I’m going to break you. I am going to break you, and then I am going to remake you, and you can’t do a thing to stop it. Now. You can either give up now…” he let go of Balthazar’s hair, sliding his hand down to his limp cock, starting to stroke it.

He tried to move his muscles – any of them – to put up a protest; but all he could do was stare up into the man’s almost yellow eyes.

“Or you can fight. It’s the last choice you will get and, if you’re smart, you’ll choose to give up. Of course,” he bent down and kissed Balthazar, tongue fucking him while he kept jerking him off, seemingly not put off by how unresponsive the omega was.

A tear leaked out of Balthazar’s eye as he started to get hard, as the heat of desire started to tighten up his insides and make his arse loosen up. He screamed inside of his head, tried to say “no” – tried to do anything other than sit there and take it.

Azazel straightened up. “Of course, I’m hoping you’ll fight. It’s always more satisfying to break the spirit than just collect it. So which will it be, Balthazar?” He let go of his nape, continuing to stroke his cock.

Balthazar immediately yanked his head upright, trying to close his legs. “Get your fucking hands off me, you bastard!” He twisted in the chair, and screamed when nothing moved an inch.

“So fighting it is…” Azazel stopped jerking him off, and Balthazar let out a shuddering breath of relief, his cock already softening without the constant stimulation.

Azazel pulled something out of the back pocket of his jeans. “Open wide.” he said.

“Fuck-” he broke off as Azazel shoved something into his mouth – wedging it behind his teeth so he couldn’t spit it out before buckling it behind his head.

Balthazar yanked his head back and stared at him, shocked at how quickly it was done. He tried to speak, but all that came out was unintelligible words and drool.

His chest was heaving as he tried to breath deeply enough to stave off the panic, and he glared at Azazel.

The beta smiled at him, and hit a button on the bottom of the chair, quick-releasing all of the straps.

Balthazar sat there in shock, and then lunged for his captor.

Azazel tasered him in the chest, letting him fall to the ground. “I know my way around the carousal – there’s nothing you can do to surprise me.”

Balthazar twitched on the cement floor, shivering from more than just the cold now. He felt Azazel stand over him, yanking his hands behind his back and cuffing them together while he couldn’t remember how to breathe, let alone how to struggle. He felt drool pooling in his mouth and he wanted to cry. He wanted to be home, in his nest, with his brothers – he wanted this to be over. He wanted this to be a bad dream.

He heard a belt being undone behind him, and he suddenly remembered how to breathe. He got his knees under him, getting ready to straighten up and...do something, when there was a foot on the nape of his neck and he froze helplessly.

“See, the thing that you cunts never learn – when you think that you can fight your way out of this – is that there is no way out.”

Balthazar heard his jeans fall to the floor and he finally started crying, still frozen in place.

“There is no fighting this, there is no end – there is only your place. And your place,” the foot on his nape was exchanged for a hand, and Balthazar felt a cock at his hole.

He tried again to say something, to do something, but...he couldn’t move.

“It’s always easier when you just do what you’re told the first time.” Azazel removed his hand right as he thrust all of the way in, and Balthazar screamed.

Balthazar woke up when the sun rose, opening his eyes and watching the rays of dawn cross the office floor. He stroked the edge of the blanket that was pulled up over his shoulders, and he thought about where it all started – about the memory he had dreamed about. After Azazel had finished raping him bloody, he had started a train of people ready to fuck his arse and his mouth. It had been a long couple of days before he finally passed out. All he had eaten for the next few weeks – he had lost track – was cum.

He swallowed at the memory and pulled his blankets over his head as he curled into the fetal position. He squeezed his eyes closed and tried to remember something else, anything else. He tried to remember what it was like to fight like that, to keep getting up and fighting no matter how many beatings and fuckings he had gotten...he had just kept fighting. Stupid, stupid, arrogant child. So sure of himself. So determined to die before he gave in. of course, by the end of the year in that awful basement, he was just like everyone else: docile and obedient, ready to be fucked with just a wave of a hand.

He wondered if he was always barren, or if they had broken something in him during that first year of training.

He remembered before Mistress Naomi bought him – he remembered seeing the new acquisitions fight, and wishing them luck. Even then, he knew how pathetic he was.

But then Naomi had grown a conscience, and he had been “freed” and he had woken up in another training center and...well. He still didn’t know if she had sent him there on purpose, or if she had been lied to as well. Not that it mattered – Zachariah was very thorough in his retraining.

And now it was a new master’s turn.

He hoped he would be docile enough, obedient enough. He didn’t want to fight, he knew better. He also knew that submitting didn’t always make it pain free but, sometimes it made it easier to heal from.

Benny wasn’t a sadist, he knew that much. Benny was… He didn’t know what Benny was yet, but he seemed like the metaphorical Omega of the marriage. Crowley was the dominant alpha – he was in charge. Benny was nesting, and Crowley would be the one to train and discipline him.

Balthazar knew how this went. He knew his positions, and knew the training, and he would do anything as long as he wasn’t sent back to a training center again. He would prove it – Crowley just had to give him a chance. He just had to test him – Balthazar would do anything.

He pushed his blankets back suddenly, feeling the urge to get up and get it started. The sooner it was started, the sooner it would be over; and he wouldn’t have to wonder anymore.

He looked down at himself and started pulling off his shirt. He took the sweatshirt off first, folding it and laying it beside the bed. He took his tshirt off next, adding it to the neatly folded pile. He wrapped his arms around himself, shivering in the cool air.

“Come on. It...it’s just clothes. It’s just one day.” he whispered to himself. “Get them off so they don’t get ruined.” he muttered, shoving his trousers and boxers off with jerky movements. He pulled his socks off last, grabbing his pillow and kneeling on it. He folded his hands behind his back and pressed his forehead to the pillow as he settled in to wait.

He felt the goosebumps all over his skin and tried not to shiver, so Crowley didn’t think it was pathetic terror. He didn’t think Crowley would appreciate constant terror – he seemed like the sort who only wanted terror when he inflicted it, and Balthazar had to obey and stifle his terror.

He thought about stretching himself, but he couldn’t bring himself to make such a presumptive move. The minor pain he would relieve from the action wouldn’t come near to the pain that would be inflicted as punishment. No, masters preferred their slaves to be tight, no matter what Balthazar thought.

He felt the warm sunlight shine in through the window onto him, and he wistfully hoped that he wasn’t going to be raped in this room. In the short time he had been there, it had become a safe space of sort – as dangerous as he knew that was. He didn’t want it taken away yet.

But of course. That wasn’t his choice to make. And he would be obedient.

Balthazar stiffened when he heard the door open, feeling panicked when he realised he had dozed off during the wait for his master. He swallowed down the fear and polished up his position so no fault could be found with it. He kept his mouth shut, waiting.

The silence dragged out for nearly a minute, and Balthazar could scent his master’s frustration.

“...are you wearing anything right now?” Crowley sounded annoyed.

All of his careful plans were thrown out on their arse at the question, but he obediently answered. “No, Master.”

“No. Of course not.” He sighed. “Get dressed, I’m not going to bloody rape you.”

He scented the alpha’s anger and he quickly grabbed his pile of clothes and started to pull them on. “I’m – I’m sorry, Master. I wanted, I wanted to be prepared for you – for you to come-”

“shut up.”

Balthazar clamped his mouth shut and cautiously stood. When he wasn’t knocked immediately back to the floor, he started pulling on his pants and trousers again. He balanced on one foot and then the other to put his socks on, and then started to kneel again. He could feel Crowley watching him, and he wished he knew what he wanted.

“This really isn’t an adequate room to live in…” Crowley said thoughtfully.

He blinked at the floor, and distantly remembered what Benny had promised days ago – that Balthazar would have to persuade him to let him stay there. He took a deep breath and steeled himself. He had the training still – he hadn’t done much but beg not to be raped, but he still remembered his training on how to seduce someone to rape you.

He sat back on his heels, smiling a little and resting his hands palm-down on his thighs. He raised his head and dared to look at Crowley’s knees, fighting the panic in his chest at even that forwardness. “Thank you so much for allowing me to stay here – please. Let me make it up to you, darling.”

He waited for a response, keeping his body relaxed and willing as the silence dragged on.

“Mmm. Do you want to have sex with me?” Crowley’s scent was blank and calm – all he could smell was the smoke of a wood fire. There were no emotions in his scent and Balthazar was terrified.

He chuckled. “Who wouldn’t want to have sex with you?”

“That’s not what I asked. Stand up.”

He stood immediately, keeping his gaze on Crowley’s knees and letting his hands hang loosely by his sides.

“Rule number one: you don’t ask for sex. Ever.”

He stared at his master’s knees, confused.

“No more...of whatever that was.” Crowley gestured at him.

He swallowed and curled in on himself, folding his hands behind his back and directing his gaze back at the ground beneath his feet. “Yes, Master.”

“Second rule – you already know about the pillow. No kneeling without it.”

He nodded. “Yes, master.”

“I’ve made a list of tasks for you to do every day.”

There was a paper under his face, and he unclasped his hands to take it. He blinked hard, trying to focus on the words.

Take a shower. Wash the dishes. Vacuum the floors. Dust the living room.

He turned the paper over, looking for the catch – looking for the sex.

“Can you do those things?”

He nearly looked up at Crowley in his confusion. “Master, I…”

“Can you?”

Could he? It had been years – literally – since he had done basic housework. And a shower? Every day?

He thought about before the kidnapping, of when he lived in a flat by himself and paid his own bills. He clutched the paper to his chest and swallowed the lump in his throat. “thank you, master.”

Crowley smelled uncomfortable at best. “Punishments.”

Here it was – here was the catch.

“If you break a rule or fail to complete a task, you will sit on furniture.”

He stopped breathing.

“So don’t fail.” Crowley said simply. “You may come and go from your room whenever you want – but do not leave the flat unaccompanied. And no going in my husband and my bedroom. No matter what.”

He nodded quickly again. “yes, master.”

Crowley was watching him and eventually made up his mind. “Alright – come along. I’ll show you where everything is, Balthazar.”

He nodded again, shoving the paper into his pockets and putting his hands behind his back again as he followed Crowley.

Balthazar stared at the kitchen sink, watching the bubbles and hot water slowly fill it up. He kept one ear open for Crowley but...nothing had happened. He had taken a shower, vacuumed the floors, and had even dusted the living room and nothing had happened. No roleplay, no mistakes discovered for the purpose of punishing him, no mockery...nothing.

Crowley hadn’t even followed him around to correct him as he worked – no, his master had gone to his bedroom and shut the door to work. He had just left him alone.

Balthazar had started to relax as he was left alone through the day, and now he was getting ready to wash the dishes in the kitchen and he still didn’t know what to make of everything. He knew domestic slaves existed, but he also knew he definitely wasn’t one. He was too broken now to do that sort of work – he lacked the grace and beauty.

He shut the water off and slid his hands into the water. He closed his eyes at the feeling bringing relief to the bones of his hands, and he started sliding dishes into the water.

The only thing he could think was that this was just a waiting period – that he wasn’t desireable to sleep with yet for some reason. That they were waiting for something.

He tried to think about what that could be.

He was only good for one thing, all of his masters had been more than glad to drill that into his head.

So if he wasn’t good for that here...what could he be good for?

He shivered as he thought about the auction block again, about being drugged and inspected and trained and sent off to god knows where…

He shook his head sharply.

Eventually they would want to use him – he just had to wait for whenever that was.

Chapter Text

Benny scraped off the grill, pouring some water onto the surface to loosen the debris.

“What’s with you, Benny? That’s the fourth time you’ve cleaned that this hour alone. Everything alright back home?”

He glanced over at the diner’s owner, who was standing next to him with her arms crossed. “Everything’s fine, cher. I’m just...a mite preoccupied.”

“A little? You’ve burnt food today.”

He sighed, scooping the towel off the grill and dropping it into the bucket for used linens. He thought about Crowley back at the flat, about Balthazar and the new rules Crowley was going to give him. They had talked about it the night before, made sure Benny wouldn’t do the tasks and throw Balthazar into confusion. He knew it was for the best, already knew that Balthazar was more relaxed when he had orders – but it still made him sick.

He was glad Crowley was giving him the list of rules, and he was grateful Crowley had kicked him out of the flat for the day. He knew he would have hovered and worried and...well. Here his worrying was only costing him food and not driving Balthazar into another panic attack.

“I’m fine, really. Just...a bit out of sorts. No one’s fault but my own.” he promised, smiling wryly at her.

“If you need the day off-”

“No. No – I need the work. Need the distraction.” he amended. “I’ll focus better.”

“I’m not worried about the food.” she huffed. “Just concerned about you.”

“And that’s why you’re a pleasure to work with.” he grinned.

She shook her head and left the kitchen, going back to the front of the diner.

He looked at the clean grill and sighed, trying to forget about his worries and just cook.

Balthazar re-read the list of tasks he was supposed to do for the tenth time, walking around the house and checking that he had really completed the tasks. He nervously checked for dust, scoured the kitchen for more dishes, and revacuumed the floors to be safe. He didn’t know if he was afraid of being made to sit on furniture as a punishment, or afraid to receive the more traditional beating but...either way he didn’t want to fail on his first day.

Eventually, he grabbed his cushion and knelt down in the living room. He settled then, folding his hands behind his back and just...waiting to be relevant again.

If he tried, he could remember feeling like this before, before everything. He would pour himself a glass of wine, and bring the bottle. It would be raining, and he would make a nest on the couch – gather up every blanket he owned and settle on the couch. That had been the best thing about living in the flat by himself, away from his brothers: he could nest when he wanted without shame because there was no one to prove himself too. He gave in to his omega instincts whenever he wanted, and no one could judge him for it because no one knew about it.

But he would curl up in his nest with his bottle of wine, and would just...be. He would watch the rain pour down the window, and listen to it on the room, and he would relax. He wondered if he really was meant to be a slave – if he was meant to be put back in a cupboard until he was needed again.

He dragged his thoughts away from that, thinking about making pasta. That had always been relaxing too – mixing the dough, making new shapes, making the sauces…

He knelt in the proper resting position and his thoughts drifted.

Before he knew it, he was half asleep.

“There now – isn’t that better?”

Balthazar tried to relax, tried to remember what it felt like to belong on furniture. He looked at the floor and grit his teeth. He was a person – he was allowed to sit her if she – if he wanted to.

If he wanted to.

He looked around the room, trying to ignore the antsy feeling under his skin.

Naomi smiled at him – looked proud of him. “You’re doing so good!”

He half smiled at the praise from his mistress, and reminded himself that she had bought him and raped him. He shouldn’t be trying to please her.

“I want you to sit when you want to, no more kneeling on the ground.” she sounded so sincere – so earnest. “I want you to be whole, Balthazar.”

He swallowed. “Why, mis- why?”

Her smile widened as he dropped the honorific. “Because I am going to free you.”

He stared at her, unable to process that, unable to even begin to understand those words.

“I mean it, Balthazar. I am going to help you – give you a chance.”

“And who will replace me?” he asked bitterly.

She looked affronted. “Why, no one. You are...you have shown me that it was wrong.”

She seemed so sincere. She seemed to mean what she said, but she couldn’t. If she had a shred of decency in her – why would she have bought him in the first place? Why would she have raped him while he sobbed into the mattress? Why would she have punished him for lapses in his training? Why would she do that, and then claim to have some sort of...repentance.

“I see.”

She looked sad now. “I am sorry, Balthazar. You deserve better.”

He looked at the floor, taking the excuse of his training to avoid meeting her eyes.

“So,” she said firmly. “You will not kneel. You will sit on the furniture like a real person. You won’t use honorifics...you will act normally.”

He was normal – he was real.

She smiled. “I want to help you, Balthazar. Trust me.”

Benny let himself in the front door quiet, holding his breath as he shut it. He listened for a moment, hearing nothing but silence in the flat. He hung his coat up in the closet and his keys on the hook. He untied his boots and left them by the door before going to look for his husband.

Crowley was sitting in their bed, reading a book. He looked up with Benny opened the door, arching an eyebrow.

Benny looked around for Balthazar. “Where is…”

“I don’t know.”

He looked back at him sharply.

“Relax – he’s in the flat somewhere.” he bookmarked his page and shut the book, putting it on the nightstand and swinging his legs over the side of the bed. “don’t.” he said sharply as Benny made the slightest movement to go find him. “He’s fine, he’s safe – he definitely doesn’t need you hovering like a mother hen right now.”

Benny hesitated, but he couldn’t scent anything. The flat was quiet and calm, and he finally stepped over to his husband and sat down beside him. “I don’t know how you did it.”

Crowley rolled his eyes and turned to kiss him. “Next week. I hired some people to redo the office.”

He frowned. “But Balthazar-”

“Don’t worry, I’m turning it into a proper bedroom.”

“You are?”

“I refuse to let someone in my home sleep on that blasted army cot you smuggled in here.”

Benny chuckled. “You don’t...I mean – I doubt he minds.”

“I know he doesn’t – I do. It’s a matter of principle.”

“You have those?” he teased.

“When it comes to living quarters, yes. He can’t live in an office – and that’ eyesore of a dresser you got him...that has to go.”

“After all of the work I put into putting it together?”

“You should have known better than to bring it into my house. It is going to the dump.”

Benny chuckled. “Your house?”

“My house, pet.”

He leaned over and kissed him again. “You’re so kind, and generous.”

He grimaced. “don’t say that.”

“Or what, you’ll implode?”

He hummed, as if considering doing that.

Benny sat beside him, taking a moment to just breathe.

Balthazar watched Naomi hand over his papers. He watched her smile at him, and he watched her walk away. He stayed by the balding man and his bodyguard, and watched her drive away without a look back.

“Are...are you going to free me?” he asked, more hesitantly than he wanted to.

The man watched her car disappear down the road and then gestured to his guard.

Balthazar felt his stomach turn sour as the guard walked over to him, and he turned to run on instinct. Naomi said he was being freed that night, that there was a system – but by morning he would be going home. Naomi had said but...his instincts were screaming at him and he turned to run.

It was stupid but...he was normal, right? He was a person – he didn’t have to stay, right?

The guard tripped him to the ground before he made it a foot. He straddled him as he struggled, pinning him face-down on the gravel road and twisting his arms back to cuff them together.

Balthazar was shaking. “Please – please no. Don’t – she said-”

“You’re so stupid, you deserve this. Believing you’d be freed…” The bald man walked over to him, crouching down.

Balthazar tried to jerk away from him – tried to throw the man on top of him off.

The man grabbed his nape, and Balthazar went limp – still feeling as sick as he had the first time it had happened.

“I love the ones like you. The ones that think they will be free one day. I love breaking them.” He turned Balthazar’s head to face him, still keeping him scruffed. “I’m Zachariah.”

He wanted to curse at him, wanted to appeal to his humanity but.. He was sick. He was crying. He was pathetic. He had believed her – had dared to hope.

Zachariah smiled. “There it is…”

He was never getting free. He was never going home. He was nothing. He was a slave.

“Hey – hey! Balthazar!”

Someone was screaming.

“Balthazar! You’re okay, it’s just a dream!”

Everything hurt.

“Wake up – I need you to wake up, cher.”

He was screaming, dragging in breath after breath and screaming while tears ran down his face. He felt hands on him, and he struggled to throw them off – to get away. He pushed himself back until he ran into a wall, and the screams died in his throat as he struggled to remember how to breath around the tightness constricting his chest.

“Okay. Okay – I won’t touch you. Balthazar, can you open your eyes?”

He sounded so nice, he was so kind – but he wasn’t. No one was, not really. They took and they took and they took – and Balthazar carefully opened his eyes.

He was sitting on the cushion still, one leg pulled up to his chest. His eyes landed on Benny’s chest, and he looked at the floor quickly.

“Good. Great – can you take a deep breath?”

He dragged in a shuddering breath.

“Good job. Again. Just breathe – breathe with me.”

He tried to relax, tried to stop his shaking as he breathed: in, and out. In, and out. In, and out…

Benny smelled relieved and Balthazar felt relieved to scent that.

He kept breathing.

“good. Good job – you just had a bad dream. Nothing happened.”

Yet. Nothing happened yet. Eventually, something would happen and he would have nightmares of that – but for now...nothing happened.

Balthazar abruptly realised he wasn’t in position, and shifted to kneel properly on the cushion.

“...have you eaten?” Benny asked after a moment of silence.

“I ate something at lunch, Benny – a sandwhich.” he answered quickly.

“Good. Are you..hungry?”

He nodded slowly.

Benny got to his feet. “Alright – I’ll make some chili for supper.”

He tensed, waiting for what Benny would do – and then blinked at the floor when his master simply walked away. He strained to hear him as he walked away – waited for...whatever would happen. There were so many horrible options about what could happen that he didn’t even know what to wait for. He had been asleep without permission, he had disturbed them with his nightmare, he had struggled away from Benny… Any of those would have gotten him punished at any of his last masters’ places.

But Benny just...walked away. He didn’t even smell angry.

Balthazar swallowed and carefully got to his feet. He picked up his cushion, taking tiny steps to follow Benny.

He scented Crowley already ahead of them in the kitchen and stopped moving. He thought longingly of just going back to his room – to his nest of blankets and hiding there. He forced himself to take another step, following Benny into the kitchen. His feet dragged over the tiled floor, and he dropped the cushion in the corner and folded himself back down on it.

He felt both Alphas look at him, and he held his breath until they looked away. He relaxed, closing his eyes and settling in to wait.

“...can’t we order him to just..not do that?”

“This still isn’t a fairytale.” Crowley answered dryly.

“if it was, do you think it would have a happy ending?”

Balthazar could hear Benny starting to cook.

Crowley snorted. “There’s no such things as happily ever after. Happy endings are what you make of them.”

Balthazar thought that was a nice thought – that life was what you made of it, what you put into it. He didn’t know what he put into life… He certainly hadn’t gotten a happy ending, wasn’t going to get one either.

“You’re so depressing.” Benny sounded fond.

“I’m practical.”

“Are you? Or do you just enjoy crushing hopes and dreams?”

Balthazar thought they sounded happy together. They sounded like a relationship he had hoped for once upon a time. Such a relationship was out of his reach by now but...To be loved and yet still able to snark at his mate – that’s all he had ever hoped for. Maybe if he had had lower standards he would have been safe. Maybe if he had entertained suitors instead of driving them off…

“It’s a hobby of mine.”

Benny laughed and walked toward Crowley. Balthazar could hear them kissing, and tried not to shiver.

There was silence for a moment, and then Benny went back to his cooking.

There was no condemnation, no criticising of his cleaning. There were no reprimands – there was nothing but quiet camraderie as Benny cooked.

Balthazar wanted to relax – he did. He desperately wanted to have peace for once – but he knew better.

He knew better.

Chapter Text

Balthazar woke up slowly. He was warm and wrapped in something soft, and he felt clean, and he could scent contentment in the air. He laid where he was for several minutes, his arms wrapped around his chest and tucked under his chin. He stroked the soft blankets under him with his fingers as he procrastinated opening his eyes.

He couldn’t scent anyone else – no lingering traces of anyone besides him being in the room.

When he opened his eyes and pulled the top of the blankets back a little, he could see the rays of sunlight just beginning to shine in through the window. He swallowed and watched the pink dawn start to brighten into the blue of full day, and he pulled the blankets a little closer to his neck.

He couldn’t remember what dawn used to sound like. He couldn’t remember what it was like to sit out on a dewy hill on the estate and watch the sun come up over the forest as the birds sang. He couldn’t even remember what birds really sounded like. He knew what they sounded like in cartoons but...that didn’t seem right. He could barely remember what it felt like to just bathe in the sun, and he had just been allowed outside a few days ago.

He shoved the blankets back and sat up quickly, looking around the room to clear it before he let himself relax. He rested his elbows on his knees and buried his head in his hands as he closed his eyes.

Balthazar. His name was Balthazar. He was thirty-six now. He was never going to have children. He was a slut and a whore, and he had begged for this to happen to him. He wasn’t allowed to be bitter about his fate. If it was really rape, he wouldn’t have cum from it. If he really wanted to be free, he would have fought harder. He wasn’t allowed to be angry that he couldn’t even remember what birds sounded like – it was too late for that.

He felt the stubble on his head under his hands and felt his stomach twist.

It was too late, and he was being too hard on himself – but he had to be. He had to be hard on himself. Sooner or later they would reach whatever milestone they were waiting for, and he had to be ready to bend over and present himself to be used however they wanted. He couldn’t afford to relax and think he was safe – he wasn’t. Maybe not today, maybe not in a week, maybe not even in a month – but eventually they would want him to show them his paces.

He reached under his pillow and pulled out the wrinkled sheet of chores he was assigned to. Shower, eat, dust, vacuum, eat, dishes...such a benign list.

He wondered if one or both of them had a maid kink.

Balthazar pushed the pile of blankets he slept under the rest of the way off himself, and got to his feet. He clutched his chore list to his chest with one hand as he walked to the dresser, and opened up the drawers with his other hand. He grabbed a fresh outfit from each drawer and held them tightly as he walked towards the door. He hesitated when he walked across the sun-bathed floor, and then he forced himself to keep walking with a sigh.

He wasn’t allowed near the window now.

He hesitated at the door, battling the panicked need to kneel and wait to be useful; but he managed to open the door and step into the hall.

He let out a shaky breath of relief when he heard no one near him in the hall – scented no one nearby to punish him for his forwardness.

He held his stack of clothing tighter and hurried down the hall towards the bathroom.

He closed the door behind him and let himself lean against it once he was inside. He closed his eyes and tried to reason with himself: he was doing what he was told, he was following his rules, he was allowed to go whereever he wanted, he wasn’t trying to escape…

Rational as he was being, it didn’t do much for the knot of dread that lived inside of his chest.

He set his stack of clothes on the counter behind the sink and looked at the mirror.

The last time he had looked in a mirror was when he had been dragged up by the hair and forced to watch himself while they fucked him through his unplanned heat. He had been forced to watch himself pant and mewl and beg to get fucked silly. He had watched the cum drip down his face from one of the many loads unloaded onto him, and he had been forced to see how much he enjoyed it.

He looked different now. Older for one – Kubrick hadn’t been one for mirrors. He didn’t have any hair either – that was different.

He ran his hand over his bald hair, feeling the velvety stubble on his scalp.

There were dark purple bags under his eyes, and his eyes looked cloudy even to him. There were bruises around his throat and trailing down under his jumper, and he suddenly wanted to see everything - needed to see himself as he was. He stripped off the shirt first, and then shoved his trousers down his legs until they fell to the floor. He straightened up and looked back into the mirror.

He didn’t recognise the person that stared back at him – it wasn’t the same person he pictured in his mind’s eye. The man he pictured was young, and handsome, and still remembered how to smile. The one in the mirror…

He took a deep breath and straightened up. He made himself smile, made himself look at his reflection as if he was looking at a mark to be seduced into using him. He made himself push his chest out and rest a hand on his cocked hip and smile.

And he could see it. He could almost see the wisp of what he once was. Add some styled curly hair, and a pair of too tight jeans, and a t-shirt that was open almost to his navel…

He slid his hand up his chest from his hip until he reached the thick collar that wrapped around his throat still. He stuck a finger through the d-ring and pulled.

No wonder they took him – he had been a needy slut even before he went through training.

He let his hand drop back to his side and let the smile slide off his face as he curled in on himself again.

He traced a scar that ran over his stomach and tried not to remember how he got it. He didn’t want to remember how he got any of them.

He frowned at one on his thigh and realised he didn’t actually remember where he got all of them.

He supposed that was a good thing.

He avoided looking at his cock, looking up to meet his own eyes again.

He wondered how much he would be allowed to heal before he was sent down the drain again.

Balthazar sighed and squeezed his eyes closed. He reached for the scissors in the top drawer by memory as he got ready to cut the bandages on his wrists off before his shower.

Ten years. Maybe in another life he would have been married by now. Maybe in another life he would have a kid or two. Maybe in another life he would have been an acclaimed chef by now. Maybe he would have nieces or nephews, maybe he would have smile lines and crows feet…

He had to make peace with his lot. He had to. He didn’t have a sliver of a chance of surviving if he didn’t. And really, Benny and Crowley? Already leagues ahead of Kubrick or Zachariah – totally worth obeying. Sure, they still owned him, and they would eventually rape him but...it could be worse.

It had been worse. Gordon wouldn’t have taken him to a doctor if he had bought him. Zachariah wouldn’t have hesitated to send him back to the training centers for all of his lapses. Josie wouldn’t have let him heal before she started to play with him. This was...this was heaven. He should be grateful – he wished they would let him be grateful to them…

he sighed and turned away from the mirror, walking to the shower. He pulled the bandages off carefully, wincing as they pulled away from the still healing skin before he threw them away. He reached inside the shower and turned the water on as hot as it would go, and then reluctantly turned it back down a notch so he didn’t actually burn himself. He went back to the pile of dirty clothes on the floor and picked them up. He carefully folded all of the dirty clothes and left them in a small pile by the door.

By the time he walked back to the shower, the steam was already filling the bathroom. He hesitated on the divider, and then steeled himself to step under the spray.

He stood in the water for a moment, and then let out a shuddering breath as the water stayed warm and soaked into his skin. He felt the heat wash over his back and the still healing wounds, soothing his tense muscles and washing away the scent of panic that always seeped into his skin.

He let his head fall backwards, taking the water in his face as long as he could before he had to wrench himself away to take a deep breath of air and swipe the water off his face as fast as he could.

He stepped back into the shower spray, keeping his face out of the water.

He looked around the shower until he found his shelf of cleaning products. He ignored the feeling of confusion that the sight brought on and grabbed the three in one soap that had been bought for him – blue, of course.

He squeezed some of the soap onto his blue loofah and put the bottle back into its corner. He shook at his head at the three in one label on the bottle, and then made himself feel grateful for being allowed any soap. He started lathering himself up from his neck to his toes, making sure to scrub every place he had ever been touched. He was gentler with his wrists, washing away the old cream that had dressed them and wincing at the sting of soap in the open skin.

He squeezed soap from the loofah down his neck, under the collar. That piece of equipment was looser than the cuffs had been but...he would rather not have such an awful scar there. Maybe it was just the lingering hope that one day he would be free before he died but…

A stupid dream but one he still had.

He scrubbed the soap over his head and over his face, sticking his head back under the shower and rinsing the soap back off before it could trigger any memories.

He swiped the water off his face again and started rinsing the loofah out. He watched he soap run down his legs and into the drain, and then hung up the loofah.

He stepped fully under the spray of the water again, letting it wash over his skin. He let himself forget for a few minutes, let himself be clean and safe and whole until the guilt at using the water overtook everything else and he was hustling to turn off the water with hands shaking from too much adrenaline.

He stood in the shower stall a moment more, listening for the sounds of anyone coming.

He grabbed the blue towels that hung outside the stall and started drying himself off. He rubbed his skin harshly, trying to erase the memories that clung to him. He started at his head and went down to his feet, scrubbing himself red before he even thought about stepping outside of the stall and trailing water on the floor. He carefully patted his wrists, dropping the towel on the floor to walk on when he felt dry.

He stepped out and hurried to the counter picking up his pile of clean clothes. He pulled on the t-shirt first before stepping in to a pair of boxers. The socks were next, and then he pulled on a pair of trousers and the jumper to match. He felt the tension drain out of him as he was fully clothed again, and he let himself enjoy a few breaths of relief in the steamy bathroom.

He didn’t think he had ever enjoyed bathrooms before – not really. Few of his owners were ever really into shower sex, and he had certainly never taken the time to really enjoy just the luxury of hot water before he was taken – now it was heaven, even if he had to use the abominable soap.

At least it was scentless.

He opened the top drawer and pulled out the basket of medical supplies in there. He set it on the counter and pulled out the cannister of cream first. He started to spread it liberally on his wrists, coating the raw skin with the soothing medicine.

He felt his throat close up with something like tears, and he viciously blinked them away. This was temporary. As soon as his wrists were healed, they would just put another pair of cuffs on him – maybe they would even take him back to the omega who had taken the old ones off. The new ones would probably be blue, if he had to guess – but they would still be just as painful once on.

This wasn’t a safe haven. This was just as much of a prison as every other place had been – this one was just padded more generously.

He wrapped the gauze around his wrists and over the cream, taping it in place. He pulled his sleeves down over the bandages and put the basket back in the drawer.

He looked down at his hands and lifted his head to look into the mirror again.

He couldn’t see himself anymore, the steam smudging him out of existance. It was just like real life: he wasn’t a person anymore, he wasn’t real.

He gathered up his dirty clothes and looked around the bathroom one more time to make sure it was clean before he left the bathroom and the temporary safety in isolation that it afforded.

Chapter Text

Balthazar stopped by his room – Crowley’s office, it wasn’t his – to pick up his kneeling pillow.

Was that his? He supposed the clothes he wore were his… Or maybe they weren’t since he was a possession himself.

He frowned at the floor as he tried to figure out if it was something he should figure out.

He was walking towards the kitchen, his gaze fixed on the floor. He watched the hardwood turn to carpet and then turn into tile, and he raised his gaze a little to see where he should put himself.

“Balthazar?”

He froze without it even being a conscious decision, scenting the panic starting to leak off of himself.

“Hey, sorry – didn’t mean to startle you, cher. Just...good morning?”

He swallowed and tried to release the death grip he had on his-the pillow. “Good...morning, Benny?” he whispered.

The alpha smelled relieved and Balthazar tried to make himself relax.

“Can I...what would you like me to do, Benny?”

“Just...make yourself comfortable, I guess. I’m making eggs and grits this morning. You have a preference for bacon or sausage?”

Preference. Like he was a person. Like he was a guest. Like he was allowed to have preferences.

“Okay – sorry. Don’t worry about it,” Benny said hastily. “I’ll just give you some of both and you can eat all or nothing – ain’t no skin off my back.”

Balthazar finally saw a place by the wall that would be out of Benny’s way while he cooked, and he walked as quickly as he dared over to it and dropped his pillow down before folding down and settling on his knees there.

Even with the cushion under his legs, the pressure on his shins and kneecaps still immediately started hurting. He stared at the scratch in the tile directly in front of him and tried to relax. It was just a little pain – nothing he hadn’t experienced for ten years. He could handle it – what he wasn’t going to do was try to adjust his position until he was comfortable.

He shuddered at the memory before he could control himself.

He knew better than that.

The kitchen smelled delicious, and he could hear Benny moving around on the opposite side of the room while he cooked. Balthazar tried to remember that he wasn’t entitled to food – that he might not get to eat this time. Benny and his mate seemed determined to make him eat regularly, but he wasn’t stupid enough to forget that it could be taken away at any time. Or if it wasn’t taken away, it would soon start requiring payment.

He fought the urge to stretch his jaw to get rid of the ache that appeared at the thought of how he would be required to repay his masters. He kept his hands clasped behind his back and stared at the scratch in the tile and tried to hold onto a thought longer than a second.

He felt...untethered – like he was barely here. It was certainly more present than he had felt in a while - the lack of drugs and constant terror was a blessing he was sure there would be consequences for later – and he wasn’t sure he wouldn’t prefer the disassociation. If he wasn’t aware, then he didn’t have to entertain thoughts about what he was or what he was entitled to, or even the realisation that his owners literally held the power of life and death over him and-

“Hey. Take a breath – it’s okay.”

He flinched at the sound of Benny’s voice right beside him. He cursed himself for not paying attention and realising his master was moving across the room towards him. He tried to make sure his position was flawless, and opened his mouth to apologise before he saw the glass of orange juice being held out to him in his line of sight. He blinked at it.

“Just wanted to bring you some juice.” Benny set the glass down after Balthazar didn’t move to take it. “Nothing’s wrong.” he promised.

He swallowed, eyes fixed on the glass of juice. He wondered if there was anything in it yet – if they were going to start drugging him now.

He grabbed the glass and drank it as fast as he could before he could think better of it.

His master smelled concerned. “...want some more, cher?”

No. He wanted to be left alone. He wanted to be left somewhere where he could smell the rain and touch the grass and feel the sun on his skin-

He flinched as someone – Benny – touched his shoulder.

“Hey. Whatever...it’s okay.” Benny said weakly. “You’re safe now.”

He pressed his lips together to keep from screaming. “Yes, Benny.”

The alpha left his hand on his shoulder for a moment longer before he stood up. “Okay. Well...breakfast is almost done.”

He listened to Benny leave his side, going back to cooking on the opposite side of the room. He felt himself relax as he was left alone, and he tried to remind himself that it wasn’t safe to relax. He always had to be on guard, always had to be ready. It was the only way to survive – just because he hadn’t been hurt yet didn’t mean it wasn’t going to happen sooner or later: it always happened.

“Hey.”

Balthazar stiffened again as his other owner entered the kitchen and walked towards Benny.

“cher…”

Balthazar hunched his shoulders as he heard them making out.

“...well.” Crowley said after a couple of seconds. “That is definitely a bit of a wet shower on that.” he sounded disgusted.

“yeah…” Benny sounded displeased as well.

Balthazar tried to fix his form – tried to reign in his scent and figure out what had upset his owners. He felt his hands shake as he clasped them behind him.

“that has to be exhausting.” Crowley said.

“It’s not his fault.”

They were talking about him – Balthazar couldn’t help his whimper as he folded himself all of the way down and pressed his forehead to the scratch in the tile.

There was a moment of silence that he could barely hear above the roaring in his ear, and then someone was walking towards him.

“Come on – get up.” Crowley stood next to him. “Up, up.”

He scrambled to his feet, stepping off the pillow and keeping his hands behind his back. He realised that he was taller than Crowley – nearly able to glimpse his face as he focused on the floor – and he tried to make himself smaller.

“Go start the dishes.”

He blinked.

“Go on – shoo.”

He dragged in a shaky breath and hurried toward the sink.

“...that’s not-”

“You can smell him as well as I can.” Crowley said dryly. “He was working himself up to yet another panic attack.”

Benny sighed.

Balthazar heard Crowley walk back over to his spouse, and smelled their scents change to fond contentment.

He started running the water in the sink, feeling the tension in his shoulders loosen up. He put the plug in the sink and started putting the dirty dishes he could find into the soapy water. He slid his hands into the water, and couldn’t help his breath of relief at the heat on his bones.

He grabbed the dishcloth and started washing, holding each dish up to the light to make sure that they were perfectly clean before he rinsed them. He scrubbed and rinsed and dried, and lost track of time as he cleaned the kitchen.

He was washing the counters when he found the note and the plate: this plate is for you, Balthazar. Eat it, please.

He stared at the note, and then at the plate of hot food.

He took the plate and the fork and carefully carried it back over to his pillow in the corner. He folded himself down and held the plate carefully.

He stared at it.

He had upset his masters somehow. He had displeased them, and all that had happened was an order to wash the dishes. He even still got to eat. He didn’t understand. He didn’t know what would happen when they got sick of coddling him. What was the cutoff? What was the tipping point? Why didn’t he deserve to know what they wanted from him? It seemed cruel to not tell him, even if he was just an object to be used and bought and sold.

He took one of the pieces of bacon on the plate and took a bite.

He got bacon and sausage. He got hot food that his master cooked himself. He got kindness and gentleness and he just...he didn’t get that. He wasn’t entitled to it – he wasn’t entitled to anything.

He could feel tears welling in his eyes.

He knew he had told it to himself before: but he wasn’t going to fuck up this situation.

He ate faster, knowing what he had to do.

He got up when he was done, rinsing and washing the dishes he had used before he drained the water in the sink. He hesitated, and then forced himself to start walking.

He scented for either of his masters, not daring to look up to find them. He watched the tile turn to hardwood turn to carpet and back to hardwood before he finally found Benny.

He folded himself to the floor beside his owner. “Thank you, Master.” he said as loudly as he dared. “Thank you for everything you have granted me – how can I repay you?” he asked, and he meant it. He wanted to repay them, wanted to earn the kindness somehow.

Benny smelled disappointed, and Balthazar tried to figure out what Benny wanted him to say.

“You don’t owe me anything, cher. Just...nothing.”

He grit his teeth, frustrated and the continuation of things that made no sense. He wanted to insist – wanted to beg for something to do that made sense. But he bowed his head and nodded. “Thank you, Benny.” he said quietly.

Chapter Text

One Week Later

“...Balthazar?”

He blinked burning eyes and didn’t look up from the floor.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes, sir.” He answered automatically.

Benny smelled displeased.

He swallowed. “I’m sorry.”

“No – no. I’m sorry. Look, this won’t be for more than a week at most, cher. I tried telling Crowley that you were fine as is – but he’s more stubborn than a mule. You can set up your...bed in the corner of the living room, and we’ll leave you be. It ain’t perfect but...when we’re finished, you’ll have a proper room for yourself.”

A room. A proper room.

Balthazar shuddered to think about what his safe haven would become. He swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded obediently. “yes, Benny.”

His master sighed. “Let’s...get your stuff. The renovators will be here after lunch.”

He got to his feet, leaving his pillow in the corner of the room that had become de facto his spot, and followed Benny to his – the office he was sleeping in.

He had gotten complacent. After a week of peaceful routine, after a week of being left alone, he had relaxed. He had done what he had sworn to himself that he would never do again, and he had dared to just...relax. And now look what it had gotten him – thrown off his balance by something that he should have expected was coming. Everyone rich enough preferred to have a separate room for their slaves – somewhere to just leave them out of sight and out of mind so they could resume their normal lives. A place to stash away their shame where they wouldn’t have to acknowledge it.

If of course, slaves were human.

He frowned and hissed when he nearly walked into Benny’s back.

“Okay, we can’t take everything with us of course – just the bed, blankets, and probably a few sets of clothes. It’s got to fit in the corner of the living room.”

Balthazar nodded mutely.

“...how about you pick out the clothes, cher?”

He swallowed and nodded again. He wanted to ask where the rest of the clothes would go – wanted to offer to give up the bed and blankets if he could just keep the clothes – but no. He nodded and obediently went to the dresser to pick out a few sets of clothing. Three or four – nothing outrageous, but the warmest things he could find.

He wanted to ask why he had been bought so many different outfits if they were just going to throw them away after a week, but he bit his tongue and knelt on the floor in front of the dresser. He pulled open the middle drawer and looked at the neatly folded rows of blue inside. He ran his hand over the joggers, closing his eyes and enjoying the substantial softness. He could hear Benny clamping up the cot behind him, and he made himself start working. He didn’t bother with colour matching the clothes – he just picked out the warmest articles he could, paired them with a set of boxers, t-shirt, and socks, and piled them beside him. When he had four outfits, he stood up and picked up the stack.

“all done, cher?”

He nodded. “Yes, benny.”

He made a disappointed sound, but picked up the pile of blankets and the folded cot and led the way back to the living room.

Balthazar swallowed hard at the scent of displeasure, and fell into step behind him.

“No, I promise this ain’t forever. And we’ll try to stay out of your way as much as possible – but when it’s done you’ll have a room to yourself.”

Balthazar knew his master was trying to be comforting, he could tell that. He didn’t know how to tell him that he couldn’t be comforting, so he might as well stop trying.

He grit his teeth to keep his own sigh of frustration buried deep inside of him.

“...you good?”

“Yes, sir.”

He sighed again, and then finished leading the way to the living room. He led him to the furthest back corner and then crouched down on the floor to start unfolding the cot again.

Balthazar watched him out of the corner of his eye, standing awkwardly behind him. He watched as he unfolded the creaky cot with ease, before taking the pile of blankets and unroling them onto the cot – and Balthazar realised that Benny had carefully rolled up the existing nest he had on the cot and preserved it during the relocation.

He wished again that he had a way to thank his masters for the kindness they were showing him, and he settled for setting his stack of clothes down behind the cot and swallowing before whispering his inadequate spoken thanks.

“It’s nothing, cher. Just...try to relax. You’re safe here.”

He nodded automatically again, believing none of it.

Benny hesitated, and then Balthazar heard his footsteps walking away and then leaving the room.

He raised his head and looked at his new sleeping quarters. He felt the openness of the room, and felt his stomach twist in dread. He reminded himself that he could be sleeping curled up on the bare floor with nothing on him but his skin, and he...he was sleeping under a window.

He took a step forward.

The sunlight was streaming in through the window – falling in gentle rays over his bed.

He took another step forward and stretched his hand out, putting it in the sunlight.

It was warm, and he relaxed with a shuddering sigh. He took yet another step forward and knelt down on the cot, turning his face up to the sun that shone directly through this window.

It was through glass, it was still from inside his prison but...it was sunlight.

He breathed out and let himself drift away.

There was a knock on the door and Balthazar flinched, jerking back to awareness and looking around the room before training kicked back in and he assumed a proper pose.

He heard footsteps going towards the door, and he relaxed slightly as he remembered that people were there to rennovate his sleeping quarters.

They were just builders. They weren’t guests, or partners, or...anything. With luck, he wouldn’t even have to see any of them until it was done and they were gone and he was introduced to his new cage.

He wondered if it would be as dark as the rest of the flat, or if they would stick with the blue theme.

He hoped if they stuck with blue that for the love of god they chose a better shade than some of the ones Benny had chosen.

His nails dug into the skin of his palm for the thought, and he cringed as he waited for something in retribution.

He got up when nothing happened, nervousness driving him to his feet and making him move. He looked out the window again, longingly before he forced himself to turn away and walk.

He crossed the rug that he vacuumed, crossed the floor that he mopped, reached the kitchen that he cleaned and...realised he didn’t know what he was doing. Everything was clean, everything was done – there was nothing to do.

He looked at the stove, remembered safety and happiness and….

“Balthazar?”

He flinched violently into the counter, smothering the hiss of pain and the new bruise he was definitely going to have there. He folded his hands behind his back and went to get to his knees – to apologise.

“No – I’m sorry, cher. Just – are you hungry? You can make something – or I can make something – don’t kneel, please.”

He froze in place, and then slowly straightened back up.

Such an innocuous question. Was he hungry? Did he want something to eat? There was no trap, there was no danger in answering honestly – not now, at least. Here, for now, they wanted him to eat. They wanted him to be full of real food. They wanted him satiated and comfortable.

Why? He wanted to scream at them. He wanted to know why they would dangle such liberties in front of him when they all knew it meant nothing.

“Can...May I have tea, Benny?”

“Uh, sure? If we have any… Crowley ain’t really the tea and crumpets sort of person…” he laughed a little.

Balthazar swallowed, not sure how to answer that.

“We have some...peach tea?”

He blinked at the floor. “

“And it’s not even in the box, so I don’t know where we got this…” Benny said to himself. “I’ll have to pick up some real tea on the next shopping trip – do you have a preference, cher?”

He tensed up. “I…”

“If you don’t, that’s okay too – I’ll ask Crowley. I’m sure he has opinions on tea too.”

He shifted uncomfortably at the almost frustration in Benny’s tone.

“...not that that’s your fault.” Benny said quickly, filling up a mug at the sink and carrying it to the microwave.

Balthazar couldn’t help the gasp of horror.

“What?” Benny turned back quickly.

He stepped back, barely keeping from throwing his arms up in defense.

“Hey, sorry – I’m not going to hurt you. I’m...you’re okay.”

Balthazar controlled his breathing out of habit. “yes, master.”

“Just Benny. It’s okay.”

It was okay. It was just horrible tea, horribly made, and Benny was American. It wasn’t like he was doing it to be a jerk. He just...he didn’t mean to. Probably.

“Yes, Benny.”

the alpha sighed, but started the microwave. “Okay, do you want any sugar in your tea?”

What would be good in peach tea? What even was peach tea? Was it black, or green? It came in a bag so it definitely wasn’t quality-

Balthazar cut those thoughts off. He was lucky to get tea at all. “No. No sugar, Benny.”

“Alright. Whatever you want.”

Whatever he wanted. As if he had choices.

Balthazar nodded. “I am...going to get my pillow?” he said, more as if he was asking permission than stating anything.

“Yeah, sure.”

He swallowed, and retreated to the living room. He snagged his pillow and hugged it to his chest. The sun was still shining over his bed – albeit at a different angle – and he sighed.

He was so confused – so tangled. Every day he felt more and more tied up inside and he wished it was over with. He knew it would end sooner or later – he just had to hold on to then. He just had to keep reminding himself that this reprieve wasn’t perfect, and he would survive the fall. He always had before, he would again.

All the poorly made tea in the world wasn’t going to make him let down his guard. He knew what he was good for – what he had become. He knew what he would die as. He knew his value.

But…

It was nice, this peace. It was such a relief after so long.

He wondered if it was on purpose – if this happened to every slave. If after so many years they were sold to someone nice and kind just to give them a taste of hope – just so they didn’t become shells of themselves.

He lifted the pillow with shaking hands and pressed it to his face, screaming into it.

The cruelty.

The ridiculousness.

He just wanted it to be over with. He just wanted his normality restored.

“...tea’s ready, cher.”

“yes sir.” he whispered.

Chapter Text

“He’s sleeping in the living room?” Crowley yelled.

Benny slapped a hand over his mouth. “Really? That is your response?”

Crowley glowered at him.

Benny slowly removed his hand from his husband’s mouth.

“If you ever do that again, I will fucking bite you.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“I have taste – and don’t think you’re distracting me, pet. Why is he sleeping in the bloody sitting room?”

“Where else am I supposed to put him? Our bed room is out of the question, and someone made the office off-limits for the present-”

“It’s a matter of principle.” Crowley sniffed, shedding his jacket and going to the closet to hang it up.

“Well, your principles got rid of Balthazar’s sleeping quarters, so I had to figure something out.”

“And you couldn’t have asked?”

“and where would you have put him, chief?” Benny asked, bemused. He walked across the bedroom floor to his husband, wrapping his arms around him.

“...we still could have discussed it.”

“Too late now. He is sleeping in the living room.”

“And what if we would like to relax in the room that I bloody well pay for?”

“No one is stopping us – you just cant rail me on every flat surface.” he grinned.

Crowley rolled his eyes. “Pretty sure that’s off limits regardless for the moment. Unfortunately.” he added.

“Horny bastard.”

“It wasn’t like I hid that, pet.”

Benny pulled him around by his tie, keeping one hand around his waist to hold them close together. “Pity we have company now…” he murmured.

“Do we? I believe there are locks for a reason.”

“Crowley…” he huffed and bent down to kiss his husband.

Crowley broke apart when they needed to breathe, panting. “Ah yes. Excellent points of argument.”

“Sarcastic horny bastard.”

Crowley growled and ground their hips together. “let me show you just how much of a horny wanker I am.”

Benny groaned, dropping his head forward to rest against Crowley’s. “Fucking hell, mate…”

He twisted his head around, kissing Benny again. He slid his hand up around Benny’s neck, gripping the back of it. “We’ll make it quick.”

“You? Quick?”

“...quicker.” he amended before he shoved benny towards the bed and broke away to lock the door. “the world won’t end if we don’t babysit it.”

“I thought we were going to have a discussion about the builders?” Benny protested with a grin as he unbuttoned his jeans.

“Well, somebody had to drain all of the blood from my brain!”

Balthazar knelt in the corner of the kitchen beside the counter, the pillow doing its best to soften the surface beneath his legs. His hands were wrapped around a cold cup of tea, and he couldn’t make himself finish it or set it aside. He stared at the lines of grout between the tiles on the floor and tried for the millionth time to make sense of all of the thoughts and emotions roiling inside of him.

Stockholm Syndrome. That was still a thing, right? Where ones captors shared the barest modicum of kindness with their captor, and one fell in love with them – no matter the abuse. Fawning instead of fight or….

That had to be what was going on, right? He was so used to the likes of Zachariah and Kubrick that he didn’t know what to do with...basic decency. He didn’t know what to do with someone who bought him normal clothes, who made him tea just because he asked for it, who removed his cuffs and got him medical care. It couldn’t be all atruism. It couldn’t be. There had to be a reason for it.

He clenched his fingers tighter around the mug he held and closed his eyes as he tried to think it through.

Logic. He could do logic still.

He took a deep breath and tried to centre himself. He rolled his shoulders back and took another deep breath, letting it out and relaxing his muscles as much as he could. He did it again and again, until the sound of builders in the back room was just white noise and he couldn’t scent anything outside of the kitchen.

The mug was resting on his knees, nearly tipping over from how loosely he held it; but he didn’t notice.

So. Logically. Logically, he was Benny’s first slave. Maybe not Crowley’s – but definitely Benny’s. Benny had bought him. So perhaps he was primarily Benny’s?

Benny said that he knew Balthazar was barren – said he had read the paperwork. So they weren’t waiting on him to get better to birth a child – that was off the tables.

He swallowed hard at the formless emotions he still felt at that thought.

So they weren’t keeping him to breed him – he wasn’t a tool bought to give them the children they couldn’t have. What next?

He was a pleasure slave first – sure he had primarily been used as a sadists toy, but it seemed that they weren’t sadists. But they had bought a pleasure slave, and they weren’t even using him properly for domestic labour – his chores were just busywork. Why weren’t they using him? Why weren’t they fucking him? Why weren’t they raping-

He dragged his thoughts out of the spiral, taking a few shuddering breaths before he made himself realx again. He couldn’t afford to have a breakdown right now – he had to figure this out.

Okay. So they weren’t using him currently – in fact, they were going out of their way to remove even the appearance of sexuality from his existance.

Not that he minded that…

Perhaps they were...not attracted to him?

He wanted to be offended but...he could feel his bones under too-thin skin, and his skin itches where the cuts and bruises were healing still, and he couldn’t really blame them for not being attracted. He didn’t think attraction had much to do with it for normal owners – but they didn’t seem to get off on the power imbalance.

So...maybe attraction had something to do with it for them. Maybe he had to be attractive to them in order for them to-

He huffed a bitter laugh to himself and finally set the cup down on the tile in front of him as he opened his eyes.

So they were waiting for him to get better. They were going to feed him and clean him and doctor him, and when he was attractive again, then they would fuck him. What a pleasant thought.

He pictured for a moment getting better. He imagined being full and healthy and strong again, and taking the chance to make a run for it – to get back to…

Back to where? He knew no one in the United States, other than his abusers. His family was in the UK, and he didn’t even know how to contact them, let alone how to travel all of the way across the pond to get back to them. Escaped slaves were always returned to their owners, no matter how cloudy their procuration process had been – and he had been a slave for ten bloody years. He didn’t have a chance at freedom now. He had been a slave for almost his entire adult life – there wasn’t a happy faery-tale ending for him now.

And maybe this could be enough. When he ate enough that his legs stopped shaking and the dizziness went away – he could practice his training. He could be seductive as hell – he knew this even before he was trained to be literal sex on legs. With enough food, with proper hair care...he could be attractive. And if he was attractive and pleasing enough, well – maybe they would let him stay.

A poor prize that was. Here he was thinking about running to his family across the pond, and he settles for just being allowed to stay here with kind owners until he died.

He buried his face in his hands and resisted the urge to scream with frustration and grief.

He straightened up after a moment and picked up the mug. He stood up and carried the mug over to the sink, dumping the cold tea out and watching it disappear down the drain. He rinsed the mug out and went to set it on the counter when someone touched his shoulder.

He flinched and spun around, the mug flying out of his hands and falling to the floor – barely missing the worker that stood behind him.

Balthazar watched the mug, frozen in horror as he waited for the inevitable shattering of glass – and then the worker caught the mug and was holding it out to him again. He stared at the miraculously unbroken mug, unable to breathe.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.” The worker reached around him to put the mug on the counter and Balthazar crumpled like a puppet with its strings cut.

“Hey, whoa – are you…” the worker trailed off as he watched Balthazar assume his resting pose. “You’re a slave.”

Balthazar swallowed and nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“Ooo, sir. Sounds fancy.” there was silence, and then there was a hesitant touch in his hair.

Balthazar closed his eyes and tried to reason this away. He scented the air but...there was no one nearby. Benny and Crowley were...no where near and...maybe this was a test? Maybe they wanted to see how he could use his skills?

“you’re...pretty enough.” The worker said, gaining confidence when Balthazar didn’t do anything to stop him. He trailed his hand down Balthazar’s cheek and gripped his jaw, guiding his head up until he would have been looking in the worker’s eyes if his own hadn’t been closed. “I can see the appeal. You got a good mouth on you?”

No. No he didn’t. He didn’t want to – please, please don’t-

“Yes, sir.” he murmured.

“Well, since I’m remodelling your little bedroom – how about you give me a taste? Just a little gift. So I don’t tell your masters about this.”

Tell them. Tell them. Surely they can’t be okay with this – surely this isn’t-

Balthazar unclasped his hands from behind his back, sliding them up the worker’s thighs until he reached the fly. “Let me make it so good for you, sir.” he purred, his voice barely cracking.

The worker let go of Balthazar’s chin. “Oh, I bet you will.” He helped undo his fly, helped pull his hardening cock out.

Balthazar stared at it, watched the precum start to bead on the tip, and thought that he should feel relief. This is what he was trained for, wasn’t he? This is what he was made for: to get people off. He should be glad it was just a blowjob, be glad he wasn’t being told to bend over the table and spread himself.

And really. The worker was working on his bedroom – he knew exactly what sort of slave Balthazar was.

So Balthazar opened his mouth. He opened his mouth and swallowed the cock and tried to believe that the salt on the corner of his mouth was from the cock and not from the tears running down his face.

Chapter Text

Good morning. Eggs and sausage?

He knelt on his pillow in the corner of the living room, feeling the sun shine in through the window on his skin.

Good morning, beautiful. Pretty little mouth you got there.

He wished that was all he could feel on his skin. He wished the touch of sunlight was the only thing he could still feel on his skin. Not hands, not feet, not sweat, not tears, not blood, not-

Are you sure you're not hungry? I'm sure I could find something else you'd like.

He wrapped his arms tighter around himself, feeling himself almost able to touch his fingers behind his back. Some masters would have done that for fun - put him in a straitjacket and tightened the arms, pulled and stretched until with a pop his arms would dislocate again. It would be so easy.

Go ahead and swallow it. Every morsel.

Why was it so easy? Was it always so easy? Touching, grabbing squeezing-

“Balthazar.”

He's so worn out already.

He didn't have to be easy. Did he? Didn't he have a choice? Wasn't that what they said?

“Hey, Balthazar?

That's it….that's it - god!

No. They said get down. They said swallow. They said get-

“Balthazar, I'm going to touch you-”

He felt a hand on his shoulder and flinched into the wall.

He corrected himself immediately, clasping his hands behind His back and trying to relax his jaw. “Yes, sir?” He whispered.

“...are you alright, cherie?”

Benny?

“Yes, sir.” He answered automatically.

There was silence for a moment, and the scent Of Benny trying to stifle his scent.

It was an interesting scent - very confused.

“You haven't eaten in a few days. We - I am worried about you. You can't afford to miss many meals, you know.”

The knot in his stomach tightened. Were they going to be taking away his food soon? He had tried so much - he was obeying, doing his job! “Im…sorry, sir.”

“Benny.”

“Yes - sorry. Benny.” He dug his fingernails into his wrist.

The silence lengthened again and Benny shifted. “If…if you need anything. Anything at all, just ask. Please, cher.”

“Yes, Benny.” He felt himself nodding.

After another moment, he felt the Alpha stand up, and finally walk away.

He relaxed again, letting himself crumple inwards almost to the floor. He buried his face in his hands and tried to remember to breathe.

In.

Out.

In.

Out.

In and hold 

Out and hold.

In and hold.

Out and hold.

Just keep breathing.

Just keep breathing

Just keep-

“Hey - look at the pet. Already on its knees.”

He startled awake again, feeling a hand gripping his jaw and pulling his face up.

Were they used to getting payment like this? Knowing to hold just hard enough to eliminate escape without leaving bruises. We're they used to this?

Zip

He ought to be glad it wasn't his trousers getting yanked down. He ought to be glad it was just something shoved into his mouth.

Why did the slave always have to be clean and odourless? Why didn't the master have to shave and moisturize themselves for mutual pleasure?

He shouldn't be so ungrateful. He should-

Rage.

“What the fuck is going on?”

Benny had never understood how an alpha could claim to be in a rage, and be let off with a slap on the wrist. He had never understood how alphas, rich and poor, could literally get away with murder simply by claiming they were raging.

He thought he understood now.

Because he was going to kill them.

“Get your fucking hands off him you pathetic little-” he was yanked back in his stride by a hand on his arm, and he spun to face whomever held him back.

Crowley's fingers dug into his arm, and his face was blank  as he looked on at the scene in front of them.

“You didn't-”

“Don't be a moron .” He drawled, still not moving.

And Balthazar wasn't moving either - no one was moving !

“Do back off before my mate decides to kill you,” Crowley said casually, not loosing his hold on Benny's shoulder.

The construction workers were suddenly stumbling backwards, hands going to their pants and doing up belts and buckles. 

“Sorry.”

“Sorry sir-”

“-just thought-”

“-was just there-"

“-just a slave-”

“ Just a- ” Benny broke off with a grimace as Crowley's hand tightened even more on his shoulder. “Why the fuck are you so fucking calm?”

Crowley just looked at the two workers who were trying to inch away from the omega who hadn't moved an inch from when they had been interrupted but who had finally shut up. “I hope you know that your life will be little better than his from this day on.” He continued when one of them opened his mouth to say something. “Get your things out within the next hour, and I won't make sure your lives are worse than his.” He growled.

They stammered something further, but Benny didn't hear them because Crowley was letting him go and he was at Balthazar's side and the man looked so empty-

“Balthazar?” He crouched in front of the omega, trying to calm his scent down. “Balthazar - they're gone. You're safe.”

He reached out to touch him, and then stilled as he remembered startling him earlier that morning. “Uh…cher? Can….can you open your eyes please? It's just me and…” he looked back and realised Crowley must be supervising the removal of those…

He grit his teeth and turned back to Balthazar. “Just me,” He said as softly as he could. “Just me. I'm not going to touch you - I'm not going to hurt you. I'm just…” he looked around and then settled himself in to sit on the ground, crossing his legs underneath him. “I'm just going to sit her until you want to come out, okay? Just sit here. Just sit here until you're ready.”

Until he was ready.

He was ready.

He was always ready.

They were so angry.

They were angry at him. They were always angry at him. Everyone was angry at him.

The anger was…going away? But the pain wasn't here.

It didn't make sense. Why were things ba ck to not making sense?

It made sense for a while! He was being used, he was giving head, he was doing His job and everything made sense again and now all that was gone? No! No!

“ No!”

“...uh, what?”

“Why won't you use me? That….that's my job! I pay for things, i entertain, i fuck and get fucked and you won’t- you won’t…” he trailed off and stared with wide eyes into the face of his master.

Who was staring back.

Fuck.

He yanked his head down, staring at his knees and trying to remind himself how to breathe.

Well. No better way to restore the natural order than by breaking a cardinal rule. He might as well have bitten the worker's cock off.

“....uh.” there was the sound of Benny scratching his head. “Well. Uh. I don't want to? Have sex with you? Because…because it's wrong. And illegal. And-”

“It's not.”

“What?”

He cringed.

“No, really.” His voice was soft and Balthazar hated himself for relaxing, even a little bit. “What do you mean, ami?”

“...it's not illegal. You own me. Sir. You can't rape a slave.” He said plainly.

Benny didn't move for a moment and then he groaned. “Uh….no. no. Let's…never” He sighed. “look. I dont…”

Footsteps walked into the room and Balthazar could scent Crowley coming nearer.

He curled in on himself and tried to stay relaxed. “Please sir, punish me as you see fit.”

Crowley's measured breathing was directly above him. Balthazar could almost hear his owners having a conversation with looks above him. 

“...new rule.”

Rule. New rule - he could find out what he did wrong. Rules made sense - rules were right. And then he would get punished for his misstep and everything would go back to normal.

“No sex with anyone without an explicit, verbal order from Benny here.”

“ Me? ”

“You're less likely to say something on accident, pet.” 

“But-” Balthazar broke off before he could say something wrong.

“Anyone, Balthazar.” Benny said. “No sex.”

He didn't believe them - of course he didn't. He wasn't so stupid. No, he knew his place. But…now he knew that this would be on their schedule. He knew that when they wanted him to be useful again, they would tell him. Plainly, clearly, verbally. It was almost relieving.

But he wasn't that stupid.

He nodded nonetheless, committing the new order to his memory along with the rest of the short list he had been given.

“Yes, sir.”

The silence was back but…Balthazar didn't feel like he was floating again. He felt relaxed. He sat on his knees, with his hands clasped behind his back and…he just existed.

It was almost like before, when he would watch the rain trickle down his windows while he was bundled up in his nest eating snacks and just being .

Almost.

“Are you….hungry?” Beny asked carefully.

He took a breath in to answer and his stomach growled loudly enough for all of them to hear it.

“...i think that answers your question, honey.” Crowley said as he started to walk away.

“Yeah.” Benny sounded relieved. “It does.” 

Chapter Text

Balthazar dragged in a breath suddenly, sitting up straight. Every muscle felt like it was tied in a knot - as if he was tensed to run even though he knew that was never an option. His head was still bent to stare at the tile floor under his knees, and his hands were still behind his back but…it felt like he had suddenly been dropped here. It felt like he had just been pulled from beneath the water, and just woken up, and his throat burned from bile.

He cautiously raised his head, scanning the familiar kitchen floor until he saw one of his master’s feet at the island. He could smell spices and onions cooking and his stomach growled.

“Sorry - I’m cooking as fast as I can.” Benny said from the island.

“Yes, Master.” he said automatically.

He tucked his chin back against his chest.

He was scared. 

He recognised the symptoms, the stiffness. He knew that taste of bile in his throat and the feeling of his heart racing in his chest. He was scared.

Why was he scared? How did he even get here?

He remembered making tea. He remembered drinking the tea. He remembered dropping the mug. And then he remembered rage.

He shuddered.

Of course he was scared - rage never boded well for him. Rage meant pain and torture and humiliation and…

And nothing hurt. Well, nothing new hurt. His old bones still hurt, his knees hurt against the pillow, his scabs from Kubrick were still aching… But nothing new hurt. He didn’t have any scabs, any newly dislocated bones - nothing .

He frowned at the tile.

So what happened to the anger?

Benny moved across the kitchen and his eyes jerked to follow his feet as he stiffened again.

The thought came and was just as quickly dismissed: he could ask Benny.

He wanted to laugh at his stupidity.

Maybe it was better to forget. He remembered so much - maybe forgetting whatever happened was a stroke of luck after his long line of bad luck. Maybe…maybe…

But.

But what if.

He was shaking, moving before he even knew he had decided.

“Master?”

Benny shifted but his feet turned to face him as he stood up. “Yes, cherie?”

“How did I get here, sir?” 

There was silence and Balthazar cringed. “I..I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Master - benny. Benny. I’m-”

“No, no ami. I’m not angry at you. I’m just…what do you mean?”

Balthazar fought the urge to step back and fold himself back down preferably into the wall as his owner took a step closer to him. “How did I get here? In this room? Benny I…I’m sorry I broke your mug - I’m sorry I forgot my punishment…but how long has it been?” he whispered.

The silence was back again, and Balthazar collapsed back to the floor in an effort to hide his trembling. His nearly nonexistent nails dug into the bandages on his wrist and he tried to keep himself relaxed - things hurt less when he was relaxed.

Benny was suddenly crouched in front of him and he couldn’t stifle his flinch back as he felt the alpha reach for him.

Balthazar cringed again, waiting for the anger and the reprimand.

“...do you remember the renovators?” Benny asked after a moment of nothing happening.

Renovators. What - oh . The bed-the office. The…

Oh.

That’s right.

They were going to make it appropriate for an omega slave.

He nodded tightly.

“They…the workers…” Benny trailed off and then heaved a breath, the scent of his anger rising. “They raped you. And…and we didn’t catch them and…God. I’m so sorry, Balthazar-”

Benny’s voice disappeared in the buzzing that filled his ears as he stared at the pillow, half pressed against the wall.

Sorry? He was sorry? Why was he sorry? He…nothing about that sentence made sense !

He swallowed the growl of frustration in his throat and made himself nod. “I’m sorry, master.”

That must have been what the rage was for - that he was letting himself be used by others without his owner’s permission. 

And that was a strange concept on its own: that his owners didn’t want to whore him out to anything that looked.

The anger was stronger, and Balthazar yanked his wandering attention back to Benny, fixing his own kneeling position. “May…I make it up to you?’

The anger soured abruptly. “Uh…no. No, Balthazar. You don’t owe me anything, ami.”

He swallowed but…he believed him. As fatalistic and as stupid as that was…he believed him. He didn’t know why , couldn’t explain it to save his life… There was no reason he should. Benny was just like all of the others, would end up like all of the others. Everyone ended the same. All the words he used now…

Balthazar nodded and relaxed without trying.

Benny smelled relieved and he stood up. “Do…do you want to come up by the counter?” he asked hesitantly. “Get off…get off your knees?”

He shook his head without thinking about what Benny wanted him to do.

“Alright. Supper will be ready soon, cher.”

He nodded and let his eyes close as he rested.

He could get used to this.

Benny kept looking at Balthazar in the corner whenever he was sure the omega wasn’t paying attention. Balthazar’s question kept repeating in his head as he tried to understand what had happened. On one hand, he was glad that Balthazar was spared yet another traumatic memory. But…was this normal for him? Had he been injured during the assaults? Should he call Lenore?

He scented Crowley coming before he heard him, manufactured calm pouring off of him to smother the anger that still was underneath.

“At least they finished the bloody thing.” he growled as he sank into a chair beside Benny.

He raised an eyebrow at him, sauteing the mushrooms.

“...you’ll have to move the furniture in.” he amended.

He laughed a little and nodded. “Do it tomorrow.” he added more garlic to the pan.

“What are you making?”

“Chicken marsala.” he glanced back at Balthazar who looked half asleep. He leaned towards Crowley, lowering his voice. “He doesn’t remember?”

“Remember what?”

“Any of it. The last week. Something about breaking a mug?”

Crowley hummed and got up. He walked to the liquor cabinet, getting out two glasses and filling them with Scotch. He sipped from one and handed the other to Benny when he reached him again. “Is that normal?” he finally asked.

He sighed and turned the heat down. “I…don’t know.”

“Did you ask him?”

He shot a glare in his direction.

“So…you didn’t.”

“Seemed mean to ask him if he normal forgets being raped.”

“And seemed kinder to let him forget at least once.” Crowley filled in, reading his thoughts.

“Hate it when you do that.”

He smirked and sipped his Scotch. He stood next to Benny, watching him add the flour and then the cream slowly. suddenly , he drained his glass and strode across the kitchen towards Balthazar who sensed him coming and went completely stiff.

“ Crowley -”

His mate held up a hand to hush him and looked down at the omega. “Balthazar?”

“Yes, master?”

Crowley’s disgust was also well hidden by the calm he was projecting. “Do you often forget periods of time? Is that normal?”

Benny watched them, holding his breath.

Slowly Balthazar shook his head. “No, Master. Not normal.”

Crowley nodded. “Good job, Balthazar.” he said as he walked back to Benny.

He sighed. “So I should call the doctor.”

He nodded in agreement and went to pour himself a new glass.

“...did you praise him?”

“Positive reinforcement does wonders, pet.”

“He’s not a dog!” he hissed.

“You know that,” he said calmly, coming back and sliding an arm around his partner’s waist. “I know that. He, does not know that.”

He grimaced and added the broth back into the rue. “Yes, fine, thank you, Fergus - ow!” he slapped Crowley’s hand away after it pinched his side. He glared at his husband. “You’re a bad example.”

He shrugged and smirked. 

Benny shook his head and turned to face Crowley, bending down to kiss him. “Impossible.” he murmured before pushing him off so he could finish cooking.

Balthazar didn’t dare let himself fall asleep again, not with Master Crowley in the room. He kept his eyes on his owners’ feet as they moved around the kitchen and he tried to get himself organised.

Rule number one: don’t ask for sex.

Had he broken that one already? Offering to make it up to Benny? Maybe…maybe it didn’t count. Or maybe Benny wouldn’t say anything… Maybe he was supposed to confess to it?

Maybe he could figure that out later.

Rule number two: always kneel on the pillow.

This rule was ridiculous. There was no reason to it, nothing aesthetic or physical or…anything! Pillows in other positions he could understand. Pillows for his masters, those he could understand. But for him to kneel on? For him to wait on when he was just…out of use? 

Ridiculous.

Rule number three: do his daily chores.

These were easy. He had to take a shower, do the dishes, vacuum the floors, and dust. He even got to take a shower in hot water, every day, with soap. It was a novelty. It was nice. The dishes and the vacuuming and the dusting… Well. Nothing was hard after he spent hours scrubbing blood stains out of wood and tile to try to avoid another flogging. Vacuuming the four rugs and dusting the shelves was easy work.

These were his rules. These were his only routines. 

He hoped nothing had changed during the black out. It didn’t feel like anything had but…his feelings were fallible. He knew that - his own lack of memory of the last week or so was ample proof of that.

His mind drifted to the omega that had cut his cuffs off. He didn’t remember his name - didn’t even know if it had even come up while he was there. He only remembered terror for the entire procedure - a procedure that had ended in lessening his pain instead of increasing it. A procedure carried out by an omega.

Was that omega a slave? Was he owned, or did he just turn a blind eye? Balthazar wished he could see him again, could ask him to explain to his owners that Balthazar needed to be useful. He was strong enough for sex now, surely - sex of some kind. He knew he wasn’t pretty anymore but…he was still a hot, wet hole. Wasn’t that enough? He was owned by two alphas - having a proper omega at their mercy ought to be a godsend.

His head hurt.

He didn’t understand. It wasn’t his place to.

Chapter Text

Benny felt like shit. There wasn’t any other way to describe it. Crowley stayed closer than he usually did, gentle touches on his arm - or his arse - to remind Benny that he wasn’t alone. Little touches to comfort him. 

The phone that didn’t leave Crowley’s hand comforted him more. The signs that Crowley was using his contacts to wreak havoc on those workers - the facts that Crowley was just as angry as he was.

And so he cooked, and Crowley schemed, and Balthazar sat in the corner of the kitchen staring at the floor.

It was…normal.

Benny sighed and rubbed his forehead. He looked over at the Omega, and his hand tightened on the serving spoon he was holding. 

He should have known. He should have known somehow. Five days of no food and no responses - he should have known . 

Shouldn’t he have?

He wanted to apologise. He wanted to get down on his own knees and make Balthazar believe that he had never wanted that to happen - that Balthazar could have come to him or Crowley and they would have stopped it.

And wasn’t that a thorn in and of itself? He hadn’t come to them. He had submitted and suffered without a word, and believed that his masters would allow it. He hadn’t trusted them.

He turned back to the stove, removing the pan from the heat and setting it on a trivet. He grabbed a few plates from the cupboard, setting them on the counter before starting to serve up dinner.

He carried two plates to the prepared table, placing one in front of Crowley who was still working on his phone. He went back to the counter and grabbed the last plate with some silverware and a cup of water, carrying it all back to Balthazar in his corner.

“Here you are, cherie. Try to eat it slowly again.” he said gently, trying to project calm through his scent.

Balthazar carefully reached forward to take the plate and rest it on his thighs. “Thank you, mas- Benny.” he whispered.

Benny couldn’t hide his grimace at the near-drop of the honorific. “Whatever you want, ami. We’re here for you.”

Balthazar’s shoulders tensed, but he nodded.

Benny sighed and straightened up, deciding that was as close as he was going to get. He walked across the kitchen to the dining table. He sat down next to Crowley and groaned.

Crowley reached out blindly and took Benny’s hand, squeezing it. 

He squeezed his hand back, taking a bite of his food. “You’re going to make them pay.”

“Do you know me?” he said dryly, finally setting down his phone and taking a bite himself.

He glanced back at the Omega who was obediently eating slowly. “He didn’t…even trust us to…”

Crowley grimaced. “It’s not your fault, pet.”

“There’s no one to be angry at.”

Crowley frowned, shifting in his seat to better face his husband. “What the bloody hell are you talking about?”

He sighed, looking back. “Whoever first grabbed him, the people who trained him, the people who hurt him… There’s no one to be mad at. Nothing to fix. Just because we can help him doesn’t mean we can help that hundreds of other people in the same position if not worse and..”

Crowley rolled his eyes and squeezed Benny’s hand painfully. “I’m not a bloody therapist, so listen to me: you make a difference where you can, and damn the rest. You can help him. Maybe you can help his family. The point is, that you bloody well try . Doesn’t matter - life isn’t fair, blah, blah, blah. The point is that you care and you try.”

Benny stared at him, and then smiled a little. “...sounds like you care, cherie.”

“I care about you.” he snapped.

He leaned forward. “Just me?”

He ate another bite of food and didn’t answer.

Benny kissed the back of Crowley’s hand. “Thanks.”

“...don’t mention it.”

He laughed a little, and started eating again, still holding on to his husband’s hand.

The food helped. The food and water helped and Balthazar no longer felt so…untethered. It was a relief.

He ate slowly, ate everything, and drank the water, and then settled back onto his pillow. Benny and Crowley had talked through dinner, but Balthazar hadn’t been listening.

He hadn’t been doing much of anything besides eating.

Alpha’s were funny. Mistress Sands wanted him to genuinely want to be fucked - even if she had to force a heat, she preferred the genuine want. Naomi wanted him to act normal, yet obey her. Zachariah just wanted him to break, and Kubrick just wanted him to scream. Every one of them wanted something a little different as long as they had control. The workers had wanted him, had taken what they wanted like any Alpha would. But his masters…they didn’t do anything. They talked of doctors out of concern for his memory. They bought him clothes that covered everything. They gave him rules and structure and food but they didn’t fuck him. They didn’t exploit their power - they didn’t do anything to control him.

Balthazar didn’t understand it.

It was starting to make him angry.

But he wasn’t allowed to be angry.

But he had to know what was expected of him.

But he wasn’t allowed to question his owners.

But, but, but, but…

Balthazar grit his teeth in frustration.

He would start watching them. He would make himself useful . If they weren’t going to use his body for its intended purposes, then he would just…anticipate them. Somehow.

Somehow.

He wanted to yank on his hair, but his hands were clasped behind his back and his head had been shaved. So he sat there on his pillow, half asleep, half frustrated, and half confused.

And relieved.

Because they hadn’t whored him out.

They hadn’t known about it.

Chapter Text

Balthazar opened his eyes to gentle sunlight streaming in the window. From the colours, he guessed it was close to dawn. His blankets were heavy on top of him, and he was warm.

He couldn’t hear anyone else moving in the flat, and he closed his eyes again, enjoying the silence. He could hear the electricity buzzing in the kitchen’s fluorescent lights, and he could hear the quiet creaks of the flat settling around him.

He could lie here forever, lie in this moment of time until time burned down all around him. It was peaceful in a way he could barely remember things being. It was peaceful, if he didn’t think about it.

Balthazar sighed and sat up, pushing the blankets off himself slowly. The living room was still empty and dark beside the dawn’s light, and he sat on the edge of his cot and stared. 

They hadn’t taken him to his room yet. 

He wasn’t in a hurry to see it.

He didn’t want to see something familiar, he wanted to hold on to the peace for as long as he could.

“Hypocrite.” he murmured to himself, flinching at the sound of his rough voice in the quiet.

He wondered if his voice was ever going to recover. He wondered if his throat was just as scarred as the rest of his body was. 

He huffed and finally stood up. He stretched carefully, cracking joints that had stiffened during sleep, and he looked around guiltily. When nothing happened, he bent to remake his cot - neatly tucking the blankets in until it was neat and flat. He reached under the bed and grabbed one of the stacks of clothes that stayed there, straightening up after.

He couldn’t keep himself from listening, from scenting the air for anyone else nearby, and he grimaced at himself.

Pathetic.

Like it would make a difference if there was someone nearby.

He clutched his stack of clothes to his chest and walked across the rug, and the tile, and the hardwood toward the bathroom.

Nothing had changed. He didn’t know why had had expected it to change - but it hadn’t. The tile was still white, the mirror was still clean, the towels were still dry… it was the same. He looked at the mirror slowly - scared of what he would see when he looked at himself again.

It was…the same too. Pasty skin, way too skinny, bags so dark that it looked like he had black eyes, Hair shaved down to the scalp… Nothing had changed. That felt wrong. 

And yet…

Nothing had changed, had it. He was still a slut. He was still a whore. The things that had happened to him were things that were supposed to happen to him. It was normal. Nothing had changed.

He wrapped his arms around himself as he slumped inward. 

He stood there silently, listening to the buzzing of the lights and the creaks of the walls around him. It was…peaceful.

He sighed, and opened the drawer, pulling out the scissors. He carefully slid them between his wrist and the bandages, and cut off the days old gauze. The cream underneath was yellow with puss and he winced.

“Bloody hell…” he muttered, peeling the gauze off and dropping it in the bin. “Fuck.”

He stared at his raw wrists for a moment before walking over to the shower and turning on the hot water. He pulled off his jumper and t-shirt, dropping them in a pile by the door. He shoved his trousers down, kicking them off his feet and then towards the pile by the door. He avoided looking down at his ruined body, stepping into the steaming shower stall and into the spray. He let the water run over him, let it run over his bare head, and down his back, and down his chest. He carefully put his hands under the water, turning them until the cream and puss was washed away. He turned his face into the water for a few moments, letting the heat soften his face before he had to jerk his face out from below the water and calm his breathing.

He hung his head, letting the hot water run over his body and he…he just existed. For a moment in time, nothing mattered except the heat sinking into his muscles and relaxing him.

Eventually, he roused himself, grabbing the liquid soap and squeezing it onto the loofah before starting to scrub his body. He worked in small circles, trying to remember when the last day he had taken a shower was as he scrubbed away layers of sweat and some remaining spots of cum that had stuck to his skin. The water was hot and soothing, and he tried to think - tried to remember.

He got nothing.

Nothing but pain and shame and fuzziness where there should be memories and time. Nothing to tell him what happened, nothing to tell him what else he had skipped during his blackout.

He obviously hadn’t showered - hadn’t cleaned his wrists. He supposed that was easy enough to hide under the baggy joggers he wore, but what about the other tasks? The cleaning? Had he done that?

He had to find out. He would have to tell his master’s about his disobedience - he had to tell them before they discovered it on their own. He had to.

And he would. Right after he searched the rest of the flat to find out what else he had slacked off on.

He started rinsing the soap from the loofah.

He wondered if his mind had finally broken. If this last thing was the straw that broke the camels back. He was too calm about it all. He should be scared, he should be desperate - he had whored himself out without his master’s approval, and he should be terrified. He shouldn’t be…calm.

And yet he was. He was sitting here thinking about how many rules he had broken, and he was...thinking about it. He hadn’t crumpled to the floor like the pathetic creature he was - he was taking accountability for it. 

He must have finally lost it.

He stepped back under the spray and let the water start to rinse him off.

He wondered if he was going to start losing more time. He wondered if he was finally going to be a proper slave - a proper example. He wondered if he was slipping his way to becoming an empty husk of a former man.

That sounded plausible.

He ran his hands over his body, scrubbing his skin again with his hands to get the soap off before he reluctantly shut the water off and reached out for a towel. He scrubbed his head dry, rubbing his eyes, before working down the rest of his body. He scrubbed until his skin was pink and dry, and he could step out of the shower stall without leaving a mess wherever he walked. He hung the towel on its hook, and reached out for his stack of clothes. He pulled on his boxers, and then his t-shirt, grabbing his trousers next and then his jumper on top of everything else.

He relaxed as the warm clothes wrapped around him and covered him, and he took a deep breath and savoured it for a moment. 

He grabbed his socks and hopped on one foot to put them on, the thick and fuzzy socks immediately warming him up more. He wrapped his arms around himself for a moment and tried not to think of anything.

Tried not to think about how precarious his situation was. How quickly it could all be yanked away with a single word. How much he didn’t deserve any of this.

And yet he was here. He was still living. He was still obeying . He was a good little omega and he knew his place.

He almost wished his masters knew theirs.

Benny lay face first in their bed, the blankets pooled at his waist, listening to his husband get ready behind him. He pulled the pillow closer around his face and groaned.

Crowley chuckled. “You’re cute when you’re mad.”

He growled into the pillow again. 

He felt Crowley’s hand on his back and sighed before turning over so he could see his husband. “I still want to kill them.” he muttered.

Crowley nodded.

“Fucking bastards.”

He nodded again.

Benny swiped at him. “Stop that.”

“Stop agreeing with you?”

He glared at him.

He took his hand, kissing it. “What are you doing today, pet?”

“...sleeping.”

Crowley’s laugh was short and harsh. “Try again.”

“Aren’t you the one that wants me to laze around?” he sputtered.

“When I’m in bed, of course. Otherwise, you’ll just be bitchy.”

Benny threw his arm over his head and groaned again.

Cruwley’s hand ran up and down Benny’s side, tracing the muscles under the skin. “It’s alright to be angry, pet.”

He huffed.

“You have a big…heart, and it would be wrong if you didn’t get angry.”

“Whole lot of good it’s done this time…”

“You bought him and kept him safe, didn’t you?” he pinched Benny’s nipple.

He hissed, still not uncovering his face.

“That was a lot of good.” Crowley bent down to bite at his husband’s nipple - just a little too hard and rough. 

“You…bastard.”

He laughed and twisted the other nipple.

Benny arched a little off the bed, groaning. “ Fuck …”

“Yes…such pretty noises.”

“Crow- Crowley !”

“Yes?” he said calmly, sliding one hand down Benny’s stomach and moving himself up the bed until he could kiss his husband.

Benny’s moan as Crowley slid his hand under his waistband and gripped his cock was swallowed as Crowley kissed him. He rolled his hips slowly into his husband’s grip, wrapping an arm around his shoulders to hold him close while he kissed him like the world was ending. Everything was narrowed down to his cock and his mouth and then…and then Crowley was gone, off the bed.

Benny stared at the ceiling for a moment before he started sputtering. “Now you see-”

Crowley’s hand wrapped firmly around his throat. “Be a good boy, and I might finish playing with you later.” he drawled, looking appreciatively at Benny’s kiss-swollen lips.

Benny swallowed, all the blood rushing to his cock again. He coughed when Crowley let go, trying to wet his mouth again.

Crowley smirked and walked away, grabbing his suit coat. “I have a… very long day at the office.” 

Benny whimpered, his cock so hard it hurt as he lifted his head to watch his husband walk out of the bedroom.

Crowley’s smile was sadistic. “Good boy.”

Benny dropped his head back down onto his pillow and groaned.

Balthazar starting in the kitchen. He took his dirty clothes to the hamper, and padded silently down the hall to the kitchen.

It was empty, to his relief, and he cautiously raised his head to properly look around. 

The kitchen was a bright spot in the house. The decor was yellow and sunny, and it illogically reminded Balthazar of sugar.

He cautiously walked toward the sink, dreading what he would see inside. His mind conjured up pictures of moldly plates and rotten bowls. He imagined bugs and gnats and…nothing. The sink looked almost sparkling in the sunlight from the window. The counters were clean, the dishes put away, and everything smelt faintly of the eponymous lemons.

Balthazar breathed out a shuddering sigh of relief. He closed his eyes for a minute, just feeling the relief that he hadn’t skipped all of his tasks, that his punishment might be smaller.

Eventually, when there were no footsteps approaching, and no hand dragging him out of the room, he opened his eyes again.

The cupboards were a light brown walnut, and he carefully opened one. The door swung open on oiled hinges and he looked at the dishes stacked carefully inside. 

He had seen the dishes before, had washed them himself; so he moved to a different cupboard.

He opened another door and found coffee - tins and bags and even a few syrups among the alphabetically organised items.

He also saw the cheap peach tea sitting in the front of the coffee, and he had to swallow hard.

He closed that cupboard quickly and moved on to the next, finding spices in glass jars once again arranged alphabetically. The spices ran the gamut from common table salt to an unimaginable amount of expensive saffron.

Balthazar took that jar out of the cupboard, traced his fingers on the lip of the lid and desperately wished he was brave enough to smell the spice.

He put the jar back quickly, shutting the door to avoid more temptation.

He checked the cabinets, finding pots and pans in steel, copper, and iron - all with bases thicker than he would have ever been able to afford even with the student loans.

He thought about how he had thought his family was rich, and realised his current masters would pauper them by comparison.

Then he stopped thinking about his family - refused to think about his family.

He had seen the bathroom before, but he went in again anyway - feeling the soft towels and feeling the awe that he was allowed to use them.

He avoided the bedroom and the- his room, making his way down to the living room last.

The living room - like the rest of the house - was neatly organised. One wall of the room was used up by a sofa and an armchair. Across from the sofa was the entertainment centre, flanked by bookshelves. The wooden shelves were stained a dark colour - almost black - and had intricate carvings on the edges. The entertainment centre was tastefully high end, with a tv and a sound system that probably sounded better than real life. There was a deep red rug on the floor, warm and thick enough to sink his toes into if he walked anywhere barefoot. The end tables and lamps were similarly dark toned, and fit into the theme flawlessly. In fact, everything fit in except the display above the sofa.

Above the sofa was a nautical display. There were a million different rope knots, some measurement devices, some books, some model ships and….and…

His back was burning, on fire from a million cuts into his skin. He was lucky they’d never taken a bladed lash to him - he was lucky -

The rows of different whips that were used on naval ships stared down at him, pressed him into the ground, until all he could smell was blood and all he could hear was the muffled thud of the leather hitting his back.

There were hands on his shoulder and he sobbed, he begged for it to end - he promised he would be good. He promised - he promised !

There were hands rubbing over his back, carefully avoiding causing pain. There were hands on his hands and he waited for the cut of manacles - for the stretch of the rack. He waited and sobbed and begged and nothing happened: no pain and no relief. 

Nothing happened.

-down.

Nothing was happening.

Please, it’s okay.

He was hot and warm and everything hurt and he just wanted it to stop.

Balthazar - Balthazar. It’s okay, What happened - can you tell me what’s wrong?”

Benny.

“Breathe - that’s good. That’s good, cherie. Nothing’s wrong.”

Benny was talking to him, rubbing his back - that was the end of it. The worst flogging had been years ago - he had healed. It was over.

“Can you hear me?”

He nodded jerkily.

Was he in position? What had happened? Was he doing okay?

“Okay. Okay. Can…can you get up?”

He nodded jerkily  again - realising that he was kneeling. He got his legs under him, got to his feet. He stared at the red rug under his feet and tried to remember how to breathe.

Benny’s hand was hovering near his elbow, and Balthazar wanted to snap at him - wanted to scream at him to take the kid gloves off and treat him how he was supposed to be treated.

Balthazar didn’t say anything.

Benny was saying things, and Balthazar was tired suddenly. 

The whips were antiques - dried out leather and broken cords. They were well-kept of  course, but they were old. They were for decoration, not for function. He knew that.

And yet…

And yet he had broken down again, debased himself again, made a spectacle of himself again .

Over things that would probably crumble before they even hit his skin. 

It was stupid.

He blinked as the rug under his feet seemed to suddenly transform into the tile of the kitchen, and he dared to lift his chin an inch to look around.

Benny was walking away from him, determinedly grabbing a mug from the cupboard and filling it with water. He stuck the mug into the microwave and started the machine, turning back to Balthazar.

“-to make you some tea, cher, alright?”

He nodded jerkily. “Yes, si- Benny.”

His fucking head felt like cotton - soft and fuzzy and completely useless .

He felt sharp pain in his wrists, and realised he had clenched his fingers into the gauze so hard he would surprised if it hadn’t broken open the skin.

He made himself relax, to keep a deferential bow in his head and shoulders - to make sure no part of him could be construed as angry or defensive. He was a vessel now - just a vessel.

It didn’t matter anymore - he just had to keep reminding himself until he believed it.

It didn’t matter.

Chapter Text

Ding.

He was going to kill him.

Ding .

He was going to make it slow and cruel and drag it out and-

Ding.

And he was going to start with crushing his phone.

Ding .

“What the- ” Benny sat up suddenly in bed, grabbing his phone and unlocking the screen. He thumbed open his notifications, frowning at the text messages from Crowley.

Text messages from work - one from the car ride there, one in the elevator, one at the desk, one in the-

Benny swallowed hard and clenched his hand into a fist to keep from touching himself.

It was ten hours at most - he could wait that long. It wasn’t even the longest he had waited! 

He scented Balthazar walking nearby and winced.

He probably shouldn’t even be getting aroused - not when he had a traumatised omega living in the same house as him. Sex could smell pretty overwhelming to him and he didn’t have ten-plus years of PTSD related to it.

Ding .

He grit his teeth as another sexy selfie came through. He texted Crowley back quickly: Knock it off .

Crowley answered just as quickly: Or you’ll what?

I have things to do .

So do them. Nothing’s stopping you, pet.

Can I jerk off?

Nice try .

Benny could easily picture Crowley’s smirk when he sent that text. He texted back: You’re a bastard.

Careful. My plans for tonight could always change.

“Oh they could, could they, ami…” he muttered, getting up and trying to ignore his semi. He left the bedroom, yawning before he headed to the kitchen. He pulled out a bag of coffee, spooning it into the coffee maker and going to fill the machine with water. He moved around the kitchen with more force than he usually did, irritated with how aroused he was with Crowley’s game. He went to the sink to do the dishes - to calm himself - and groaned when he remembered that they had a new house guest who did all of that.

He sat down in a chair and rested his arms on the dining table. He stared at the opposite wall as if he could bore a hole into it with just his gaze and tried not to imagine fingers trailing over his skin, ropes pressing into his skin, the feeling of sweat and oil and the scent of his husband heavy in the air.

He failed.

He startled when the coffee maker went off, getting up and going to pour himself a mug. He breathed in the aroma and closed his eyes, savouring the smell. 

“Damn good stuff.” he murmured, taking a sip and only wincing a little at the temperature. He let the burn spread across his tongue and slide down his throat, letting it distract him from the heat already pooling in his stomach. He closed his eyes and sipped his coffee and relaxed into the feeling of contentment and peace and panic panic fearfearfear-

Benny’s head jerked up, his nostrils flaring as the scent of terror flooded the kitchen. His hands were empty as he half ran out of the kitchen, searching for the origin of the scent, for the omega he was responsible for. “Balthazar? Balthazar!” he almost ran past the living room, sliding to a stop on hardwood floors and clipping the side of the wall as he turned into the room where Balthazar huddled in a ball of neon blue. 

Besides him, the room was empty. There was no enemy to fight, no monster to banish - just a terrified omega and a litany of pleas saturating the room just as much as the scent of fear did.

“Please, please, please - please no. Please no - not again. I’ll be good. I’ll be good. Please don’t plea-please. Please - whatever you want. I’ll be so good. Please-”

Benny took a deep breath and slowly walked towards Balthazar, already certain that Balthazar couldn’t run away no matter how much he wanted to and yet still not wanting to spook him. “...Balthazar?” he said softly. He tried to project safety and peace in his scent, tried to temper the possessive protectiveness raging through him; and he was sure he was failing.

The scent of panic didn’t lesson, and Balthazar didn’t even move. His forehead was pressed to the carpet on the floor, his hands clasped behind his back, and he was begging .

Benny wanted to throw up.

He carefully crouched beside the omega, setting a hand gently on his shoulder. “Hey, Heny, Balthazar. Balthazar - it’s alright. No one is going to hurt you. You…you’re safe now.”

Balthazar was trembling under his hand, whether from fear, or the effort to stay put when he obviously wanted to run.

Benny didn’t if Balthazar even wanted to run anymore - he knew he couldn’t…he hoped he did. “Breathe. Can you breathe? Take a deep breath for me, please. It’s okay.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry-”

You didn’t do anything wrong, ami. You’re okay. You’re safe.” he was rubbing circles on Balthazar’s back, trying not to think about the scars he could still feel through the thick sweatshirt. “You’re safe. Nothing is going to hurt you.”

He was probably imagining that Balthazar’s trembling was lessening, but he kept doing what he was doing - kept projecting calm, kept rubbing Balthazar’s back, kept talking in as calm of a voice as he could, and kept trying not to let his anger get the best of him.

“IT’s okay. It’s okay, Balthazar. Please, calm down.”

“I’ll be good, I swear . Whatever I did, I’m sorry .” his voice was ragged and wet and Benny cringed.

“Please. It’s okay. Really, it is. You’re not in trouble.”

Balthazar’s posture was starting to look like one of defeat and boneless surrender rather than any form of purposefulness, and damp resignation started to overtake the panic.

“Balthazar. Balthazar, it’s okay. What…what happened - can you tell me what’s wrong?” he asked, still rubbing circles on the omega’s back.

Balthazar tilted his head towards him, and Benny’s breath caught in his throat in relief. “Breathe - that’s good. That’s good, cherie. Nothing’s wrong.”

The fight seemed to drain out of Balthazar, and his scent calmed back to his normal mixture of fear and resignation. 

“Can you hear me?” he asked carefully.

He nodded jerkily.

“Okay. Okay. Can…can you get up?”

His head jerked again, and he started to move. He got his foot underhim, and rolled upright, his head tucked to his chest and his hands still clasped behind his back. His breathing was still too fast and too shallow, and Benny couldn’t help but hold his hands out incase Balthazar collapsed again.

“What happened? What…did you remember? The…the workers?” he tried to ask as calmly as possible. “They…they’re going to be punished, I am…I am so sorry that happened to you.” he hoped Balthazar believed it. He didn’t expect Balthazar to forgive him, but he hoped that the omega at least someone felt guilty about how he had been treated.

Someone other than Balthazar.

Balthazar was almost swaying on his feet, exhaustion clear in the lines of his body, and Benny touched his elbow. “Hey. It’s okay. It’s okay, cherie. You…” he cast his mind about to try to think of something that would help - something that would comfort after a breakdown; and he thought of his coffee in the kitchen.

He thought of the sad box of tea in the back of the cupboard. “Hey, let’s go the kitchen, yeah?”

Balthazar nodded jerkily and fell into step behind him when he finally started walking.

He went straight to the cupboards, finding the largest mug he could and going to the sink. He filled it with water and went to stick it in the microwave. “I’m going to make you some tea, cher, alright?”

He was standing in the middle of the kitchen, looking dazed as he stared at the floor.

Benny wondered if it was worse, bringing him into the kitchen were the assault had started.

“Yes, si-Benny.” Balthazar’s voice was soft, and his original accent almost came through the roughness of his voice that belied his treatment.

Benny winced at the correction but let it go. He looked at Balthazar out of the corner of his eye, not wanting to stare directly at him.

Balthazar was still standing where he had stopped in the middle of the kitchen, still staring at the floor. He didn’t seem more upset about the location, so Benny tried not to feel more guilty. He was still trembling, and swaying as if he was about to fall, and Benny hesitated.

“Do…do you want to…stop standing?” he didn’t want to ask him to kneel, didn’t dare to ask him to sit. 

Balthazar didn’t respond right away, and then he nodded again.

Benny pushed off the counter quickly, going to grab the pillow that was in Balthazar’s usual corner of the kitchen. He brought it back to the centre, holding it out to the omega.

No one moved for a moment.

“....I broke the rules.” Balthazar finally said, not moving to take the pillow or anything else. His voice was flat, but Benny knew that didn’t mean he was without fear.

Even Benny could smell the resignation in the air. “It’s okay-”

“No. It’s not. Sir. I…I broke the rules. I…I didn’t shower. And - and I…I didn’t…didn’t change my dressings.” He was stumbling over his words as he spoke faster, the confession seeming to pour out of him once he got going. “I didn’t vacuum and…and I let them…I serviced them…and I…I didn’t - I broke-”

Benny clenched his hands on the pillow to keep from grabbing Balthazar - from trying to comfort him with a touch that was certain to be unwelcome. “I…i don’t care. None…none of that is your fault. Ami, please - it’s okay.”

“But I broke the rules, Benny.”

Benny wanted to punch something, and he wanted to hug Balthazar until that broken tone of voice was something he never had to use again.

But he wasn’t an idiot so he kept his hands on the pillow. 

“...I am your master, correct?”

Balthazar’s head twitched and then he nodded. “Yes, sir.”

Benny didn’t want to consider how relieved Balthazar’s voice sounded. “Then I decide what matters and what deserves punishment. This doesn’t matter. It…it doesn’t deserve punishment, cher.”

Balthazar was still, and then he slumped and nodded, the resignation back.

He reached out and took the pillow from Benny, and Benny felt that he had somehow still made the wrong choice.

Balthazar knelt on his pillow in the middle of the kitchen and held his large mug of peach tea with both hands.

Benny was sitting on the floor opposite him, and Balthazar was careful to keep his eyes focused on his cup as he took a hesitant sip.

Benny had a cup of coffee, and the carafe full sitting next to him also on the floor.

Balthazar was confused.

But he wasn’t suicidal enough to say anything, so he sipped his terrible tea while Benny drank his coffee and nothing could be heard but the buzzing of electricity in the lights.

“....do you…remember what set you off, cher?”

He tried not to immediately tense at the sound of his owner’s voice. He took a sip of tea to stall for time,  and then tensed as he realised what he was doing.

Anyone else would have realised his hesitation, anyone else would have backhanded him across the face with the mug he was holding to teach him better.

Benny just sipped his coffee and waited.

Balthazar still couldn’t stop the fear that lanced through him. “I - it…” he took a deep breath and tried to make the ripples in the surface of the tea stop. “It was the whips, sir.” he whispered.

He didn’t know what he was waiting for, didn’t know what he was bracing for. Mockery? Cruelty? Promises? Threats? Hands and words and teeth and cock and-

Benny was talking again.

“-Get rid of them.”

Get rid of what ?