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Something flashes in his eyes. Something… heated. It's there and gone in a blink, but I see it. "I didn't mind. I liked taking care of you."
I consider analyzing that. Trying to figure out if that's true and what that heat was and what it could all mean for the future, but… I'm so fucking emotionally wrung out and exhausted, and the food smells amazing, and the tequila sounds even better, so I let it go. "Do we get to drink while we eat, or is it our reward?"
"Oh, we're drinking now," he assures, that mischievous smile making another appearance. He opens the bottle and hands it over, not bothering to pour it into a glass. I like his style. “But go easy, please. Your body is still pretty beaten down. It won't take much to get you drunk.”
“Yes, M-” I pause, my face going so hot I lift a hand to my cheek to make sure it's not melting off. I was about to say master. And by the expression on his face just before he quickly looks away, I know he's fully aware of it. Fuck.
I take a swig of tequila. It burns, but it's a good burn. Almost… cleansing. I take a second pull.
Jake nudges the food toward me, completely failing at nonchalance. I put the bottle between my thighs and start piling some food onto my plate, feeling him watch me. I try my best to ignore him. It works for a while, the two of us eating in silence, chasing our food down with our drinks.
I fill up fast, my stomach not entirely sure it's happy with me as I lean against the side of the bed and bring the bottle of tequila back to my lips. I should probably stop drinking too. My head is already swimming and it's not going to make my stomach feel any better. But things are starting to feel warm and fuzzy, like there's a layer of happiness between me and the world, and I'm afraid it'll slip away.
"Time for bed. For real this time," Jake eventually says. I glance over to find that he's already cleaned up our food and stripped down to his boxer briefs again. I eye those briefs. Tight. Black. Encasing thighs that are so fucking muscular and hairy and hot. "Need help getting up, Case?"
"I got it." I force my eyes away from him, the room spinning a little. "Shit…"
"Yeah. I fought with myself on whether I should tell you to stop drinking, but decided it wasn't my place." He sighs like he's regretting that decision now. "You gonna be sick?"
"I don't think so."
"Can I help you into bed?"
I turn my head to look at the bed, but it just makes the spinning worse. I groan and squeeze my eyes shut. "Okay."
The bottle is taken from me a moment before his strong hands are grabbing my body and lifting me up to the edge of the bed. One more lift and a turn and then I'm on my back in my spot, easy as that. "You're good at that…"
"Good at what?"
I sigh. "Being all strong and - and - I dunno. I can’t think of the word. You just swoop in and take care of things. Good at it."
"It's my job."
The comment shouldn't hurt as much as it does. I'm at least sober enough not to ask him if his job is the only reason he takes care of me. Whatever his answer would be, it'd fuck me up one way or another. It's better to not know.
"Is the room spinning?" he asks, suddenly sounding much closer to me.
I snap my eyes open to find him right beside me in the bed, the lamp turned off. I groan as the sight of his dark figure makes the spinning worse, closing my eyes again. "Yes."
"Put your leg over the side of the bed, foot on the ground. It'll help."
It sounds ridiculous, but I'm willing to try. It takes a bit of scooting to get to the edge of the mattress and my legs tangle awkwardly in the blanket, but I eventually manage. I take a deep breath and wait.
"Is it helping?" he asks after a few seconds of silence.
"No."
He chuckles. "Let me get you some water and pills."
"Will that help?"
"Probably not. But it'll at least make tomorrow a little better." The bed dips as he gets up. Time feels elastic and sticky. It seems like he was gone only seconds, but logically I know it can't be true. He pushes a pill past my lips and follows it with a straw. "Drink."
It's the easiest thing to obey him. A relief, really. We repeat the process again for the second pill. Then he tucks me back in and says, "Good boy. Try to sleep now, okay? I put a garbage can beside the bed in case you get sick."
I hear the words, but I don't really register them. I'm stuck on the good boy.
He might not be my master anymore, but damn do those words feel good.
