“Yeah,” Bishop nods and stands up, keeping Sawyer held against him while he wanders into the bathroom. Sawyers is carefully set on the counter so he can turn the water on to warm, “bath or shower?”
It feels strange to be taken care of like this, to be held and brought to the bathroom. He worries at his bottom lip some as he stares at the other from the perch on the counter.
"Uhm," he flushes, making decisions is new to him. Even for such simple tasks.
"A bath," he finally says. He quietly pulls his shirt up, starting to get undressed so he can get washed up.
"Did you bring my things?" he asks, he didn't have much. There were worn clothes, a few tattered books and the like.
A bath it was. He flipped the plug into place abs let the water begin to fill before he added some bubbles; nothing severely scented or that would obscure his scent on Sawyer but still something nice.
He nods, “yeah, I did. But I also sent one of mine to pick you up some things, too.” Looking up at him, he takes in the details of him that were hidden beneath his clothes, “tonight you’re wearing something of mine though.”
Bubbles... Sawyer watches, fascinated. He's never had a bubble bath before. He can already start to spell the subtle pleasant scent and he pauses in undressing, his pants undone as he looks up at Bishop when he speaks.
He flushes at the other's comment and he nods. He won't argue that. He slowly pushes his pants down. He still had bruises some fresher than others all over his body, particularly his thighs and his ass. There were some on his stomach and a large one that's ugly and later in the healing stages on one side and around to his back.
He catches sight of them and then shifts nearly wanting to pull his clothes back on suddenly embarrassed of his mate seeing the marks left on him by other wolves. He tries not to dwell, though he doesn't look at the other as he tugs off his socks and then his underwear, letting the clothes drop. The counter is cold against his bare skin but he didn't move from where the other had put him.
The bruises were all mentally cataloged and Bishops jaw clenched at the sight of the large one that seemed to wrap around the others body.
He stands up and moves over to Sawyer, reaching to tip his chin up so he can see his face fully, “After your bath, I want the names of everyone who did that to you.”
Sawyer sensed the change in the other's body language and he seems to curl in on himself some when the other moves to him but he doesn't resist it as his head is tilted up. He swallows.
Sawyer is still nervous. He knew somehow that the other wouldn't have hurt him but he's skittish. He nods, hesitating before reaching to bring the other's hand from his chin up so he can kiss his palm before letting it go, ears pink.
"I was used to this sort of thing," he says, bruises, broken bones, all sorts of things but it doesn't matter here. He might not fully believe he's safe or trust Bishop but so far he hasn't been hurt. So it doesn't matter.
Sawyer climbs in and he doesn't look at Bishop as the other undresses. He sinks into the bubble bath, the scent is nice and so is the heat of the water and he makes a small pleasured sound at the feeling.
Sawyer hesitates a bit and it's hard for him to believe in the idea of something as nice as a bath being his to any degree of the word. He bites his lip and moves once the other is in the bath, pressing close to him and it's easy to settle against him even in the bath he's small enough that the tub doesn't feel too crowded.
There's something instinctual that makes him want to be close, to smell the other's scent to touch him. something instinctual that's trying to trust.
"I don't understand why you're being so nice... why you took me from them." Why you claimed me when no one else has wanted to? The last question, silent.
A funny sort of warmth comes over him when Sawyer moves in against him. It’s like, even though it’s rocky, pieces are starting to fall into place. Missing pieces.
“I knew you were mine,” he murmurs quietly, “and I wasn’t about to leave you there when I realized it.”
That doesn't make any sense. Sawyer just frowns, resting his head against the other's chest and he is more intent to soak and be close to Bishop than he is to worry about anything else in the tub. He closes his eyes.
"You mean you took me because you wanted me to be yours?"
"I don't understand," Sawyer says softly, letting the other get his hair wet. One of his hands idly cups some bubbles, watching them and maybe just a little too in awe.
It's nice to be taken care of. Sawyer doesn't resist it at all, sighing softly as the other starts to wash his hair. He could nearly fall asleep with how calming it is and how the hot water is making him drowsy.
"Your scent... it smells good to me. Is it like that?"
“Yeah,” he nods and squeezes most of the bubbles out before he starts to rinse his hair, “I mean, sort of. I could smell you before I’d even seen you. I’d always be able to find you.”
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"Uhm," he flushes, making decisions is new to him. Even for such simple tasks.
"A bath," he finally says. He quietly pulls his shirt up, starting to get undressed so he can get washed up.
"Did you bring my things?" he asks, he didn't have much. There were worn clothes, a few tattered books and the like.
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He nods, “yeah, I did. But I also sent one of mine to pick you up some things, too.” Looking up at him, he takes in the details of him that were hidden beneath his clothes, “tonight you’re wearing something of mine though.”
It was a subtle show of dominance, he guessed.
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He flushes at the other's comment and he nods. He won't argue that. He slowly pushes his pants down. He still had bruises some fresher than others all over his body, particularly his thighs and his ass. There were some on his stomach and a large one that's ugly and later in the healing stages on one side and around to his back.
He catches sight of them and then shifts nearly wanting to pull his clothes back on suddenly embarrassed of his mate seeing the marks left on him by other wolves. He tries not to dwell, though he doesn't look at the other as he tugs off his socks and then his underwear, letting the clothes drop. The counter is cold against his bare skin but he didn't move from where the other had put him.
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He stands up and moves over to Sawyer, reaching to tip his chin up so he can see his face fully, “After your bath, I want the names of everyone who did that to you.”
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"Why...?"
Why does it matter?
"It doesn't matter anymore."
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It fades when he feels the other start to retreat—
“I’m sorry,” he tries to brush it off a little with a breathy chuckle, “instincts…”
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"I was used to this sort of thing," he says, bruises, broken bones, all sorts of things but it doesn't matter here. He might not fully believe he's safe or trust Bishop but so far he hasn't been hurt. So it doesn't matter.
"They're healing."
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“Do you hurt?” He asks quietly.
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"Join me," he says quietly. "Please?"
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“Sure,” he nods but he still motions to the tub before he starts taking his own clothes off.
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"I've never had a bubble bath."
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Once he’s dropped all of his clothes, he locks the bathroom door and moves to the tub to join him.
“It’s your bath now, take as many as you want.”
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"Mine?"
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There's something instinctual that makes him want to be close, to smell the other's scent to touch him. something instinctual that's trying to trust.
"I don't understand why you're being so nice... why you took me from them." Why you claimed me when no one else has wanted to? The last question, silent.
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“I knew you were mine,” he murmurs quietly, “and I wasn’t about to leave you there when I realized it.”
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"You mean you took me because you wanted me to be yours?"
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His brow furrows as he thinks about it and he abscently cups water in his hand to wet the others hair.
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“It’s hard to explain,” he breathes, “you have a very specific scent.”
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"Your scent... it smells good to me. Is it like that?"
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