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“Oh,” Carter manages to whisper when he realizes sir is waiting for him to respond.
“I’m sorry this situation happened to you, and I’m sorry that I happened to you, but I am not sorry for anything I’ve done to you. The moment those men kidnapped you, you became a part of this world. You became a pleasure slave. If you weren’t here with me, you’d be somewhere else, and I’d be jealous as fuck, and pissed that I missed out on owning you, but I’d get over it, and I’d move on, and you’d be living a very miserable life with god only knows what monster.” Sir cups Carter’s cheek, pushing against his face in an attempt to lift his head so they’re looking at each other. Carter fights it, his eyes remaining downcast. Sir surprisingly gives up. He sighs. “But you’re not somewhere else, sweetheart. You’re here, and you’re mine, and I’m never going to let you go. Never. You make me very happy. As much as I realize that makes me a monster, I don’t care. I’m never going to care. I won’t change my mind or have a flash of consciousness. This is who I am, this is what I want,youare what I want, and I’m not a man who lets go of the things he feels that way about.”
Carter takes a minute to process all of that, his soul still aching, his heart heavy, his eyes burning. Thankfully, sir lets Carter take as much time as he needs, not saying a word as Carter runs his fingers along sir’s skin as he thinks. He maps out the contours of the man’s broad chest before tracing the lines of the broken birdcage. Carter touches a fingertip to each and every bird, his heartbeat feeling as frantic as a hummingbird.Go, hurry, fly, fly, fly.
A tear falls down Carter’s cheek. He flinches when sir lifts a hand to wipe it away. Sir drops the hand before touching his face.
Carter knows he could have it worse. He truly believes that. Hell, he’s seen it himself. Some of the slaves in the house are treated terribly compared to him. He’s seen enough flashes of interactions to know sir treats him very differently than the rest of his men would. He’s seen enough slaves walking around with ribs showing and skin bruised and bleeding. They’re passed around from man to man to be fucked and tortured at whim. Their eyes are always glazed and empty. Even if sir had been lying when he said those awful things about men in this world maiming and drugging and brutalizing their slaves to the point of them forgetting their own names, their ownhumanity, Carter at least has the proof of the slaves in the house to go off of.
Sir is good to him.
All things considered, sir is very, very good to him.
Carter is lucky.
He’s really fucking lucky.
Carter touches sir’s tattoo again, just now noticing that there’s a small black bird tucked away in the corner of the cage, permanently trapped on sir’s skin despite the door being open just inches away.
It’s okay,he tells the bird, his fingertip gentle on its beak.Sometimes it’s better to stay anyway.
“I’m glad you’re who bought me, sir.”
Sir’s breath hitches, his grip on Carter tightening before relaxing. Then he tugs Carter forward until they’re flush against each other, burying his face in the crook of Carter’s neck. He whispers against the sweaty skin there, pouring out a secret of his own. “I’m very glad, too.”
“Because I’m Maison’s brother?”
“No,” sir says without hesitation. He pulls back to rest his forehead against Carter’s, their gazes locking. “Because you’reyou.”
