#threat of violence
Erik and Carlo AU snippet where they got in some trouble on one of Erik’s many trips abroad. Erik tries to comfort his pet.
Inspired by this promptby@whumpwillow!
CW: captivity, false imprisonment, pet whump, blood, bruising, abuse, beatings, guns, vaguely implied threat of noncon
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Carlo woke afraid, from dreams that seemed real and surroundings that seemed dreamlike.
The floor left him sore and cold. He shivered, tasting blood and noticing the cut on his lip had left a series of stains on the cement.
As he pushed himself gingerly to sitting, his Master’s heavy black coat slid down his shoulder. Holstrom had placed it over him open like a blanket, keeping him from the worst of the cold.
He sat against the wall and clung to it, wincing at a pain in his ribs.
“Look at me,” Erik said from beside him. Carlo turned his head.
A gentle finger brushed his bruised cheek, traced the unhurt part of his lip as of surveying the damage. “Laying hands on another man’s pet. They ought to be shot in their sleep.”
Carlo shivered. He closed his eyes and leaned into his Master’s touch. Far away a dog was barking. A metal door slammed down the hallway, the clanging wound reverberating through the door that kept them trapped.
“What else?”
Carlo opened his eyes. “Sir?” he whispered.
“What else did they do to you? Those men?”
Carlo swallowed the coppery taste in his mouth. “Nothing.”
The familiar, square fingertips slipped up by his ear and Erik’s palm cupped his hurt cheek, so tenderly it did not press on the bruising.
“Are you sure? I heard them talking.”
“One kicked me,” Carlo said. He didn’t want to seem like he was complaining. His Master had a cut on his eyebrow that had bled and bled, and was swollen now, making one eye appear half shut. But he did not want to lie.
Erik searched his eyes a moment longer. “It’s alright, love. You’re going to be alright. You know that, don’t you?”
Carlo swallowed harder, a painful lump rising in his throat. He had been scared before plenty, entire days in the warehouse he’d been afraid and alone, and he’d been scared when he’d first come to his new home and Erik had slapped him.
But he couldn’t think of a time when he had been this afraid. The men who took them from the back of the car had guns— not handguns like Keith carried at his hip but big guns like in movies, and thick green vests on their chests that made Carlo think they might be soldiers.
Erik sighed, and did something he never did— he took Carlo’s cold hands in his big warm ones and squeezed. “You’re with me, pet. I’m here. Remember that.”
Erik and Carlo AU snippet where they got in some trouble on one of Erik’s many trips abroad. Erik tries to comfort his pet.
Inspired by this promptby@whumpwillow!
CW: captivity, false imprisonment, pet whump, blood, bruising, abuse, beatings, guns, vaguely implied threat of noncon
-
Carlo woke afraid, from dreams that seemed real and surroundings that seemed dreamlike.
The floor left him sore and cold. He shivered, tasting blood and noticing the cut on his lip had left a series of stains on the cement.
As he pushed himself gingerly to sitting, his Master’s heavy black coat slid down his shoulder. Holstrom had placed it over him open like a blanket, keeping him from the worst of the cold.
He sat against the wall and clung to it, wincing at a pain in his ribs.
“Look at me,” Erik said from beside him. Carlo turned his head.
A gentle finger brushed his bruised cheek, traced the unhurt part of his lip to survey the damage. “Laying hands on another man’s pet. They ought to be shot in their sleep.”
Carlo shivered. He closed his eyes and leaned into his Master’s touch. Far away a dog was barking. A metal door slammed down the hallway, the clanging reverberating through the door that kept them trapped.
“What else?”
Carlo opened his eyes. “Sir?” he whispered.
“What else did they do to you? Those men?”
Carlo swallowed the coppery taste in his mouth. “Nothing.”
The familiar, square fingertips slipped up by his ear and Erik’s palm cupped his hurt cheek, so tenderly it did not press on the bruising.
“Are you sure? I heard them talking.”
“One kicked me,” Carlo said. He didn’t want to seem like he was complaining. His Master had a cut on his eyebrow that had bled and bled, and was swollen now, making one eye appear half shut. But he did not want to lie.
Erik searched his eyes a moment longer. “It’s alright, love. You’re going to be alright. You know that, don’t you?”
Carlo swallowed harder, a painful lump rising in his throat. He had been scared before plenty, entire days in the warehouse he’d been afraid and alone, and he’d been scared when he’d first come to his new home and Erik had slapped him.
But he couldn’t think of a time when he had been this afraid. The men who took them from the back of the car had guns— not handguns like Keith carried at his hip but big guns like in movies, and thick green vests on their chests that made Carlo think they might be soldiers.
Erik sighed, and did something he never did— he took Carlo’s cold hands in his big warm ones and squeezed. “You’re with me, pet. I’m here. Remember that.”
