Pretty Jewels

The smell?

The man arched a brow questioningly.

He didn't smell anything strange. It had all been normal for him; familiar. He had almost missed the bad smells of the slums. Almost.

Asar didn't speak much after, only a few muttered sentences spoken to himself. As they got home to his villa, the smell of the slums was only a lingering scent. Asar took in a deep breath, enjoying the lack of people and the cleanness of it.

He was please to know a bathe was already drawn for him, the slaves anticipating his needs and habits as soon as he came home. He was quick to shoo them away. He left them with the order to leave his slave and to fetch some wine.

Entering the bathroom, he was quick to strip and submerge himself into the water.

Lukewarm. Hot enough to wash off the dirt, but cool enough so he was not sweltering when he was out the bath.

He tugged on his slave's chain, telling him to join him.

They would both easily fit, with it being large enough to hold four fully grown males.

Chanda slid into the bath when his chain was tugged.

The warm water was nice; something that he had slowly been getting used to over the past few weeks. The luxury of hot water was nice.

His golden eyes slid shut as he relaxed against the edge of the bath.

His hair floated in the water as he stretched out.

This was nice.

Asar was quick to press up against the other body, arms sliding around the other males shoulders, and waist between his legs. He liked the feeling of skin against skin. It made his stomach twist and a constant smile appear on his face.

Resting his chin on the slaves chest, he peered up at his curiously, mind flickering back to the events of the market and his unanswered questions.

"So, how do you know how to count?"

His eyes flickered open to glance down at the boy staring up at him.

He gave a soft breath, letting his eyes slide shut again.

Chanda didn't want to talk about it. He wanted to forget about his past. He was a man from the slums that was now slave to a high-standing boy. That was all he needed to know about him.

"It's unimportant."

Bottom lip jutting out, he pouted at the response. More annoyed that his slave dismissed it rather then not getting the answer itself. A frown accompanied the pout.

His fingers easily twisted the hairs at the neck. Pulling on them, rather then yanking.

"Tell." It was a whine, rather then a command.

He gave a soft sigh when Asar tugged at his hair.

It was an annoying little act. Nothing he couldn't handle but annoying all the same. He'd have to attempt to tolerate it for however long it took for Asar to get bored.

"It doesn't matter."

He really didn't want to talk about it.

Hands grabbed for more chunks of hair, pulling harder as annoyance bubbled in him.

Why won't he tell him? It was not that hard. Just a few words to satisfy his curiosity.

He repeated the words, dragging them out at in a tone that he knew irritated people. Even more so now he was older. But if it got him what he wanted, he did't care.

His lip twitched in discomfort as his hair was yanked again.

Asar was getting annoying. He was starting to feel the slow burn of anger in the back of his mind.

"I don't want to talk about it," he ground out, golden eyes flashing open to glare at the boy.

Was it so difficult to understand that he didnt want to talk about it?

The glare did not back him down, but deepened the line between his brow.

Whether he wanted to or not, he still should tell him.

Kneeling so the were eye to eyes, he gave him his own glare, pout dissolving. His grip tightened on the hair, that twist of happiness in his stomach turning into one of annoyance.

"Tell me."

He grit his teeth.

Asar was just an annoying child. He wanted an answer so he'd keep prodding and being annoying until he got said answer.

"I don't want to talk about it," he repeated with a sigh.

It really wasn't something he wanted to talk about with anyone.

He repeated the words again, hissing them out.

Hands pulled harder, forcing the other male to expose his throat and look up at him. As it should be. The slave being completely obedient to the masters needs and wishes. Not disobedient. Not like how the slave behaved now.

He hated his slave was like this.

He gave a low hiss when his head was yanked back.

Forced into submission. He'd been forced to be submissive before. It wasn't anything new, though it wasn't a great feeling.

Either way, he wouldn't be telling the boy about his past.

Instead of giving a retort, this time he just stayed silent.

He raised a hand, only to be interrupted by the soft clank of of cups and a jug being set out. Turning he watched a slave walk out of the room, quietly and efficiently... Almost. On most days, that would annoy him. But, currently, that was aimed at his slave.

"Pour me a glass."

He rolled and sunk into the water, blowing bubbles in the water to release some of his annoyance.

Chanda gave a soft sigh but the distraction was welcome.

He sat up and busied himself with pouring a glass of wine for his Master.

If the boy was focussed on drinking wine, then he wouldn't care about learning his story. A good distraction.

He held up a glass to the boy silently.

Asar was going to gloomily reach for the glass, still blowing bubbles. But his mind slipped to other possibilities on how to drink it.

His mood did another one-eighty, and his lips stretch into a grin. He would of prowled over to the slave if they were back into his room.

"I want you to take some first, then give it me."

He saw one of his brother do it enough times. So it must be enjoyable?

Chanda arched a brow.

He lifted the glass to his own lips and sipped it, eyes sliding shut. It was good wine. Expensive, no doubt.

He passed the glass over to Asar as he had asked.

Asar's face feel as the glass was handed to him.

"No no no. That's not what I meant."

The line between his brows appered again as he tried to sting a sentenced together. Made even harder to do with his limited volcabuary.

"I want you to..." He chewed his lips before sighing.

"Let me show you."

He did't really know how, so he can only guess.

Sipping a small amount of wine (strong, as always, and sweet to his tastes) he then pressed his lips against his slaves. He prided them open, letting the wine flow into his mouth as he kissed him, liking the mixture of his slave and the sweet drink.

Pulling away, he licking his lips, and then the small drops in the corners of his slaves mouth.

Swelling with pride and accomplishment, he grinned.

"See?"