“Not for everyone, but for me you are,” Bishop murmurs into Sawyers hair. He’s content and relaxes wrapped up and tangled on the couch with his mate.
But, eventually the need to clean up becomes clear and he slowly gathers Sawyer up in his arms and carries him back upstairs to get a shower started. Not once, though does he let go of him, even when he sets him on his own two feet.
Sawyer doesn’t argue. He feels exhausted. He just lightly rubs his
fingertips over the others arm in a nonsensical pattern until Bishop picks
him up. He doesn’t have to question where they’re going. As they leave the
mess and clothes behind he is glad at the idea of getting clean. He’d had
to stay dirty too often and he didn’t like the feeling of it lingering on
his skin.
He wonders if Bishop had sensed it, that he would want to clean up or maybe
Bishop is the same way… he’ll ask him sometime when he has more courage.
For now, his eyes follow his mate, as he gets the shower ready. Never
losing contact completely and there’s some sense of security in that.
“Thank you,” Sawyer says softly and when it looks like the water is ready
he gets in, pulling the other by the hand to join him.
The only time Bishop felt it was acceptable to stay that dirty is during a heat and that was only because it took forever to finish anything. The need was too strong.
But to say he hadn’t sensed or at the very least assumed that about Sawyer would be wrong.
Bishop is tugged easily in behind the other but his brow furrows softly. What was he thanking him for?
“I take care of what’s mine,” he murmurs and reaches out to cradle the others face in his hands. He steals a kiss and then tips his head back to help him wet his hair properly before he moves on to soaping him him everywhere he can reach.
Sawyer bites his lip at being called Bishop’s. It’s true. The other had
claimed him, had completely claimed him. He could feel himself tied more
acutely to the other.
And this time, as Bishop washes him, sawyer returns the favor. His fingers
are curious, exploring the muscles, searching out any scars or marks on the
other and just exploring his mates body a little as he helps clean up.
“I’ve never felt that good before…” Sawyer admits softly, almost inaudible
over the sound of the shower.
The scars aren’t that many. A few from childhood and random accidents but nothing major. Save for one running along his left wrist, it’s a few inches long starting from the base of his palm from an accident where he had broken it.
Bishop slows his washing and just enjoys the feeling of Sawyer willingly exploring him. He lets him and his relaxed state, the way he enjoys it, is evident.
Sawyer may still have his trust issues, for good reason, but in this moment he feels…okay.
Pressing a kiss to the others forehead, he closes his eyes and cleans the rest of the sticky mess, letting it all float down the drain with the bubbles.
“It’ll always feel at least that good in the future,” he promises.
Eventually, Sawyer might ask the stories of those few scars but for now he just enjoys the touch of skin against skin. The fact that this isn't just his body being used. Bishop really is just taking care of him. And when he's clean he feels better, breathes a little easier and looks up to the other after the kiss to his forehead and the promise.
"If it doesn't that would be okay," Sawyer flushes a little. How good it had been is overwhelming, parts of his body still almost too sensitive to have been touched even in the passing cleaning.
“Sensitive?” Bishop asks with a softer smile. He knows. He can tell. And after years of abuse it’s probably overwhelming to feel that good and there not be pain involved.
He wraps his arms around the others waist and keeps him close; letting the water wash over them, “we’re linked. It’s always going to be that good. But you’ll get used to it…”
There’s a pause and he chuckles, “you can always make me sleep on the couch, though if you get sick of me.”
Sawyer nods, biting his lip as he looks up at him before burying his face against his chest as he's wrapped up by him and the water is still hot running over their bodies. He makes a soft noise.
"I won't," Sawyer murmurs softly. Even on the off chance he did he wouldn't ever have that courage he's sure but it doesn't matter because it's unlikely anyway. He looks up at him again, leaning to press a quick kiss to his lips.
“We’ll see. You have options. Choices. Opinions, with me. You can say what’s on your mind no matter what it is,” he shrugs lightly, “you’ll figure that out on your own, though. I could tell you I’m a puppy most of the time but you’re not going to believe it until you’re around enough.”
But. The kiss was nice and he chases the other for one more, “What’re you hungry for?”
Sawyer's not ready to face the fact that he has all those things. It's a little overwhelming, the promise of freedom that's suddenly right here. He's trying to take things in smaller doses. But he doesn't argue with Bishop. He just kisses him again.
A frown slowly forms and Bishop ties his towel around his waist before moving back over to retrieve Sawyer.
“They were really terrible to you….” He murmurs mostly to himself. “It’s okay. Come on…”
He’s quiet the rest of the time it takes to get them both dried abs dressed in comfortable clothes but when they head back downstairs (a cloth in hand along with a bottle of cleaner), he looks at Sawyer again, “okay. Simple choice: rice with beef and vegetables or, I can order pizza. Which one of those sounds better?”
He watches him for a moment and then pads over to the couch to clean up their mess.
Sawyer feels the urge to apologize and he feels the urge to cry. His eyes burn a little but he hides his face until he can blink it away. He helps dry himself off, dressed comfortably as he follows the other downstairs.
"Rice with beef and vegetables," Sawyer says slowly, after a long pause. Then he moves to reach to take the cloth and cleaner. He should clean up the mess. It's mostly his and... and he should just be the one to clean it.
This was going to be difficult for both of them for a while. Bishop knows this. But it still breaks his heart a little to see this beautiful creature so…guarded.
He nods, and reluctantly relinquishes the cloth and the cleaner. But only because he would have to go cook the rest of the food.
“Thank you,” he murmurs affectionately after kissing his temple.
Sawyer blushes and he quietly gets to work after the other moves to go cook. He's never been thanked for doing... well, anything. He diligently works on cleaning up the mess -- that is mostly, if not entirely his fault. He maybe cleans longer than necessary, as if having to be sure it's done perfectly that there's no mistakes that he could be caught making -- no accusations that could be made that he didn't do a thorough job. When he's done he isn't sure what to do with the cloth or the cleaner.
He stares down at them and then hesitantly pads into the kitchen, chewing his lip nervously.
Sawyer nods and he moves into the laundry room, figuring out where to put them in there and then he comes back out. Automatically he moves to the sink to wash his hands and dry them before looking at Bishop.
He's perhaps waiting for the next instruction or... the food -- or a bit of both.
When Sawyer was done washing and drying his hands, he reached out to gently hook his finger into the bottom of the others shirt so he could draw him over to him.
The food would have to sauté for a moment anyway.
“I know the topic isn’t comfortable. But rumors only give so much…detail,” he wrapped himself around the other, “…what did a normal day look like for you there?”
Sawyer let the other pull him close and he lets out a breath as the strong arms wrapped around him. He would have thought it would make him feel trapped but it doesn't even if the question makes him antsy. He lifts his shoulders a little.
"I did whatever they told me to do. If they told me to clean, I did... or cook, or whatever chores needed done. If they wanted to have sex with me then they did any time of the day. In the evenings, I got passed around between them a lot. Sometimes they just... touched me while they did other things or made me do things to them. Some nights they just wanted to beat me."
There was no exact schedule for his days.
"They didn't let me sleep very much... kept me up late and woke me up early to work for them. I... just spent every day trying not to get hurt."
And failing.
"If I was lucky they let me eat whatever was leftover on their plates," if he wasn't then there were times he didn't eat at all or the food was barely edible.
If they had had this talk prior to making the claim official, Bishop probably could have hidden the way he felt as Sawyer went on, and on about how he had been treated. What they’d done to him, made him do, kept him from doing. But they hadn’t and as much as he tried to not let it feed into their bond - he could keep it all out.
Anger. Sorrow. Annoyance. Mostly anger… But none of it came even close to being towards Sawyer.
If anything, his grip on him was harder and yet somehow gentle at the same time.
The decision making made sense now. The way he jumped to clean. The way he worried. The way he almost didn’t know how to think for himself.
And…
“…you can say no to sex,” he says softly, “if you ever don’t feel like it - you can tell me no. I won’t be upset with you. And I won’t just take it from you either.”
That seemed like a big issue.
“I won’t blame you. Not after…everything they did. I’d still keep you safe, even if we never did that again.”
Sawyer swallows and he can sense all the things the other feels and it makes him feel nervous. He can't help it. He doesn't pull away or cower from his touch. Bishop is proving to him he's safe. He hasn't hurt him. He hasn't forced him to do anything really. He turns into him more, pressing his face against him while the other talks. It's a little like hiding but does it really count if he's turning to Bishop to hide?
He wraps his arms around the other and hugs himself to Bishop tightly the more he talks. The reality that he's actually escaped his living hell is starting to feel like it's taking shape as an actual possibility but he's still frightened to trust it. What if Bishop meant what he said now but... something could happen...
He shakes his head and tightens his arms around him, fingers curling into the back of the other's shirt.
Speaking is too hard, his throat is tight and he's sure if he tries to say anything he'll cry and he doesn't want to. He doesn't think Bishop would like it, he wouldn't want him to cry so he just holds onto him tightly.
Doesn’t he realize that hiding from him is pointless? They aren’t just two wolves passing in the streets anymore. They’re connected completely.
Bishop doesn’t move too quickly but he does reach over to turn the burner off and set the pan aside so he can freely grab Sawyers face between his hands and get him to look up.
“You are mine, and I am yours. You can’t hide from me, Sawyer and you can’t lie,” he murmurs, “I’m your mate. Not a captor. You can growl at me. You can tell me no. You can lay around and make a mess. You can eat what you want. And you can cry. You just have to communicate so I understand…” he ducks down and kisses him softly on the mouth and then the nose and finally his forehead, “why do you want to cry…?”
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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But, eventually the need to clean up becomes clear and he slowly gathers Sawyer up in his arms and carries him back upstairs to get a shower started. Not once, though does he let go of him, even when he sets him on his own two feet.
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Sawyer doesn’t argue. He feels exhausted. He just lightly rubs his fingertips over the others arm in a nonsensical pattern until Bishop picks him up. He doesn’t have to question where they’re going. As they leave the mess and clothes behind he is glad at the idea of getting clean. He’d had to stay dirty too often and he didn’t like the feeling of it lingering on his skin.
He wonders if Bishop had sensed it, that he would want to clean up or maybe Bishop is the same way… he’ll ask him sometime when he has more courage. For now, his eyes follow his mate, as he gets the shower ready. Never losing contact completely and there’s some sense of security in that.
“Thank you,” Sawyer says softly and when it looks like the water is ready he gets in, pulling the other by the hand to join him.
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But to say he hadn’t sensed or at the very least assumed that about Sawyer would be wrong.
Bishop is tugged easily in behind the other but his brow furrows softly. What was he thanking him for?
“I take care of what’s mine,” he murmurs and reaches out to cradle the others face in his hands. He steals a kiss and then tips his head back to help him wet his hair properly before he moves on to soaping him him everywhere he can reach.
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Sawyer bites his lip at being called Bishop’s. It’s true. The other had claimed him, had completely claimed him. He could feel himself tied more acutely to the other.
And this time, as Bishop washes him, sawyer returns the favor. His fingers are curious, exploring the muscles, searching out any scars or marks on the other and just exploring his mates body a little as he helps clean up.
“I’ve never felt that good before…” Sawyer admits softly, almost inaudible over the sound of the shower.
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Bishop slows his washing and just enjoys the feeling of Sawyer willingly exploring him. He lets him and his relaxed state, the way he enjoys it, is evident.
Sawyer may still have his trust issues, for good reason, but in this moment he feels…okay.
Pressing a kiss to the others forehead, he closes his eyes and cleans the rest of the sticky mess, letting it all float down the drain with the bubbles.
“It’ll always feel at least that good in the future,” he promises.
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"If it doesn't that would be okay," Sawyer flushes a little. How good it had been is overwhelming, parts of his body still almost too sensitive to have been touched even in the passing cleaning.
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He wraps his arms around the others waist and keeps him close; letting the water wash over them, “we’re linked. It’s always going to be that good. But you’ll get used to it…”
There’s a pause and he chuckles, “you can always make me sleep on the couch, though if you get sick of me.”
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"I won't," Sawyer murmurs softly. Even on the off chance he did he wouldn't ever have that courage he's sure but it doesn't matter because it's unlikely anyway. He looks up at him again, leaning to press a quick kiss to his lips.
"I'm hungry."
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“We’ll see. You have options. Choices. Opinions, with me. You can say what’s on your mind no matter what it is,” he shrugs lightly, “you’ll figure that out on your own, though. I could tell you I’m a puppy most of the time but you’re not going to believe it until you’re around enough.”
But. The kiss was nice and he chases the other for one more, “What’re you hungry for?”
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"You were making rice."
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"Rice?"
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He repeats, “Sawyer….what do you want to eat?”
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Choices. Opinions. He feels a rush of anxiety at being pushed to have an opinion, to make a choice.
"I just want rice," he says meekly.
Being able to make simple decisions about what he gets to eat had been a rare occurrence. Food had been used as a punishment before, as a reward.
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“They were really terrible to you….” He murmurs mostly to himself. “It’s okay. Come on…”
He’s quiet the rest of the time it takes to get them both dried abs dressed in comfortable clothes but when they head back downstairs (a cloth in hand along with a bottle of cleaner), he looks at Sawyer again, “okay. Simple choice: rice with beef and vegetables or, I can order pizza. Which one of those sounds better?”
He watches him for a moment and then pads over to the couch to clean up their mess.
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"Rice with beef and vegetables," Sawyer says slowly, after a long pause. Then he moves to reach to take the cloth and cleaner. He should clean up the mess. It's mostly his and... and he should just be the one to clean it.
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He nods, and reluctantly relinquishes the cloth and the cleaner. But only because he would have to go cook the rest of the food.
“Thank you,” he murmurs affectionately after kissing his temple.
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He stares down at them and then hesitantly pads into the kitchen, chewing his lip nervously.
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“Laundry room,” he nods to the door to Sawyers right, “just put them in there. And come back to me…”
Because he didn’t like not being able to see where he was. At least right now.
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He's perhaps waiting for the next instruction or... the food -- or a bit of both.
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The food would have to sauté for a moment anyway.
“I know the topic isn’t comfortable. But rumors only give so much…detail,” he wrapped himself around the other, “…what did a normal day look like for you there?”
Maybe it would help him understand.
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"I did whatever they told me to do. If they told me to clean, I did... or cook, or whatever chores needed done. If they wanted to have sex with me then they did any time of the day. In the evenings, I got passed around between them a lot. Sometimes they just... touched me while they did other things or made me do things to them. Some nights they just wanted to beat me."
There was no exact schedule for his days.
"They didn't let me sleep very much... kept me up late and woke me up early to work for them. I... just spent every day trying not to get hurt."
And failing.
"If I was lucky they let me eat whatever was leftover on their plates," if he wasn't then there were times he didn't eat at all or the food was barely edible.
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Anger. Sorrow. Annoyance. Mostly anger… But none of it came even close to being towards Sawyer.
If anything, his grip on him was harder and yet somehow gentle at the same time.
The decision making made sense now.
The way he jumped to clean.
The way he worried.
The way he almost didn’t know how to think for himself.
And…
“…you can say no to sex,” he says softly, “if you ever don’t feel like it - you can tell me no. I won’t be upset with you. And I won’t just take it from you either.”
That seemed like a big issue.
“I won’t blame you. Not after…everything they did. I’d still keep you safe, even if we never did that again.”
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He wraps his arms around the other and hugs himself to Bishop tightly the more he talks. The reality that he's actually escaped his living hell is starting to feel like it's taking shape as an actual possibility but he's still frightened to trust it. What if Bishop meant what he said now but... something could happen...
He shakes his head and tightens his arms around him, fingers curling into the back of the other's shirt.
Speaking is too hard, his throat is tight and he's sure if he tries to say anything he'll cry and he doesn't want to. He doesn't think Bishop would like it, he wouldn't want him to cry so he just holds onto him tightly.
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Bishop doesn’t move too quickly but he does reach over to turn the burner off and set the pan aside so he can freely grab Sawyers face between his hands and get him to look up.
“You are mine, and I am yours. You can’t hide from me, Sawyer and you can’t lie,” he murmurs, “I’m your mate. Not a captor. You can growl at me. You can tell me no. You can lay around and make a mess. You can eat what you want. And you can cry. You just have to communicate so I understand…” he ducks down and kisses him softly on the mouth and then the nose and finally his forehead, “why do you want to cry…?”
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