Challenge #32: Check In #1
Nov. 14th, 2015 11:07 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
swirlsofpurpleTitle: Troy and Larson (Excerpt)
Word Count: 250
Rating: PG-13
Fandom or Original: Original
Pairings (if any): None
Warnings (Non-Con/Dub-Con/etc): Dark themes
Summary: The powerful and the powerless. (This is an excerpt of one of the things I'm writing for Nanowrimo).
Link:
Larson’s feet stumble over each other but the member of The Circle holds him up and leads him away from the vicious mob. He doesn’t understand what’s happening, but can’t help but feel grateful, gasps out,
“Thank you Sir. Thank you, thank you.”
“Hush, that’s okay,” the man says.
Larson knows he should be suspicious and won’t like whatever someone belonging to The Circle wants him for. But he also knows that he can’t disobey and pull away, has to act thankful. It’s not like he’s even pretending.
They enter a building and eventually come to a room with a bed.
“You should rest,” the man says, gesturing to the mattress.
Larson nods. Oh God, a bed, an actual bed. He collapses onto it, already struggling to keep his eyes open. He knows he’ll be expected to earn this gift, which would usually horrify him, but he’s too exhausted to care.
“What do you want?” he asks, reaching to unlace his trousers.
The Circle member stops him. “It’s okay, sleep. We’ll talk in the morning.”
It feels like he’s in a fairy-tale. He might cry. Maybe he’ll even manage to sneak out in the morning without paying. Though making an enemy of a Circle Member would really not be a good move.
Larson feels sleep pulling him under and he allows it. It’s not safe here. But it’s not safe anywhere. Safe is relative. And he’s reached the point of desperation he hoped he’d never come to. He doesn’t care.
Word Count: 250
Rating: PG-13
Fandom or Original: Original
Pairings (if any): None
Warnings (Non-Con/Dub-Con/etc): Dark themes
Summary: The powerful and the powerless. (This is an excerpt of one of the things I'm writing for Nanowrimo).
Link:
Larson’s feet stumble over each other but the member of The Circle holds him up and leads him away from the vicious mob. He doesn’t understand what’s happening, but can’t help but feel grateful, gasps out,
“Thank you Sir. Thank you, thank you.”
“Hush, that’s okay,” the man says.
Larson knows he should be suspicious and won’t like whatever someone belonging to The Circle wants him for. But he also knows that he can’t disobey and pull away, has to act thankful. It’s not like he’s even pretending.
They enter a building and eventually come to a room with a bed.
“You should rest,” the man says, gesturing to the mattress.
Larson nods. Oh God, a bed, an actual bed. He collapses onto it, already struggling to keep his eyes open. He knows he’ll be expected to earn this gift, which would usually horrify him, but he’s too exhausted to care.
“What do you want?” he asks, reaching to unlace his trousers.
The Circle member stops him. “It’s okay, sleep. We’ll talk in the morning.”
It feels like he’s in a fairy-tale. He might cry. Maybe he’ll even manage to sneak out in the morning without paying. Though making an enemy of a Circle Member would really not be a good move.
Larson feels sleep pulling him under and he allows it. It’s not safe here. But it’s not safe anywhere. Safe is relative. And he’s reached the point of desperation he hoped he’d never come to. He doesn’t care.