Jacob had avoided Alfred successfully for most of the day. Even when it was time for dinner, he’d managed to sit far away from him.
But it was that night, when he entered his sleeping quarters, that he discovered an awful truth: he had a roommate.
“Hey, the master said we could share your bed. Says it’s sort of big anyway, since, you know, it’s a castoff and all…” Alfred had at least the decency to look a little embarrassed. That quickly faded, though, as he said, “Don’t worry, I’m not handsy!”
Sharing a bed. A shiver went down Jacob’s spine, and he felt already vulnerable sleeping clothes. He threw himself on the bed, turning away towards the wall. “See if I fucking care.”
Just lie down a minute. Share the bed with me.
His eyes flew open, as he realized, no, that was the wrong side to present to Alfred! He tried to turn over, but the bed dipped down next to him and Alfred was there, altogether too close and too smiling, as he said,
“Well, it’s a tight fit, but it’ll be fine! I don’t sprawl or anything! Do you snore?”
He could practically feel his breath on him. And god, he was breaking out in a sweat. He’d barely managed to flip onto his back, but he still felt horribly exposed, like he’d stripped himself naked and offered himself to his fellow slave. “Move the fuck over! Don’t they have personal space where you come from?!
“Um, I’ll fall off the bed. I’m serious, I will.” Alfred turned his baby blues on him, as though he could somehow make his warm eyes cause everything to be better.
He was going to hyperventilate, and then everyone would know, Alfred would tell everyone. Jacob shut his eyes tightly, praying that there would be an end to it.
He nearly screamed when Alfred’s arm fell across him as the other shuffled a bit in bed. “Sorry. Just trying to get comfortable.”
“I’ll sleep on the floor,” Jacob said, sitting up and trying to navigate his way out of the bed without climbing on top of Alfred. That was just an invitation for something, and Jacob was far too wary to take the chance.
“Oh. Okay. You can climb over me, I’m fine,” Alfred said, turning over so he was sprawled on his stomach.
Jacob managed to take a blanket and a pillow with him, gingerly easing his way over Alfred and managing just barely not to touch him. He curled up on the hard floor; it was the servants’ quarters, after all, and not somewhere that deserved a rug. He had no talent to make a rug, nor the good grace to ask someone to make one for him.
He could feel Alfred’s eyes on him, as he tried not to feel the solid surface pressing hard against his back.
“You’re awful young to be giving up the bed, you know… You can’t be more than fifteen.”
You’re so young; you can’t be more than fifteen.
Jacob shuddered, and snarled back, “I’ll give up the bed if I want to! I’m not that young! Shut up!”
Alfred was quiet after that, and soon enough, the room was filled with the sound of his snores.
Jacob shivered, the chill of the floor emanating through him, though it was hardly the only thing keeping him from sleeping. He shut his eyes tightly, and eventually unconsciousness took him.
Mask 2/?
But it was that night, when he entered his sleeping quarters, that he discovered an awful truth: he had a roommate.
“Hey, the master said we could share your bed. Says it’s sort of big anyway, since, you know, it’s a castoff and all…” Alfred had at least the decency to look a little embarrassed. That quickly faded, though, as he said, “Don’t worry, I’m not handsy!”
Sharing a bed. A shiver went down Jacob’s spine, and he felt already vulnerable sleeping clothes. He threw himself on the bed, turning away towards the wall. “See if I fucking care.”
Just lie down a minute. Share the bed with me.
His eyes flew open, as he realized, no, that was the wrong side to present to Alfred! He tried to turn over, but the bed dipped down next to him and Alfred was there, altogether too close and too smiling, as he said,
“Well, it’s a tight fit, but it’ll be fine! I don’t sprawl or anything! Do you snore?”
He could practically feel his breath on him. And god, he was breaking out in a sweat. He’d barely managed to flip onto his back, but he still felt horribly exposed, like he’d stripped himself naked and offered himself to his fellow slave. “Move the fuck over! Don’t they have personal space where you come from?!
“Um, I’ll fall off the bed. I’m serious, I will.” Alfred turned his baby blues on him, as though he could somehow make his warm eyes cause everything to be better.
He was going to hyperventilate, and then everyone would know, Alfred would tell everyone. Jacob shut his eyes tightly, praying that there would be an end to it.
He nearly screamed when Alfred’s arm fell across him as the other shuffled a bit in bed. “Sorry. Just trying to get comfortable.”
“I’ll sleep on the floor,” Jacob said, sitting up and trying to navigate his way out of the bed without climbing on top of Alfred. That was just an invitation for something, and Jacob was far too wary to take the chance.
“Oh. Okay. You can climb over me, I’m fine,” Alfred said, turning over so he was sprawled on his stomach.
Jacob managed to take a blanket and a pillow with him, gingerly easing his way over Alfred and managing just barely not to touch him. He curled up on the hard floor; it was the servants’ quarters, after all, and not somewhere that deserved a rug. He had no talent to make a rug, nor the good grace to ask someone to make one for him.
He could feel Alfred’s eyes on him, as he tried not to feel the solid surface pressing hard against his back.
“You’re awful young to be giving up the bed, you know… You can’t be more than fifteen.”
You’re so young; you can’t be more than fifteen.
Jacob shuddered, and snarled back, “I’ll give up the bed if I want to! I’m not that young! Shut up!”
Alfred was quiet after that, and soon enough, the room was filled with the sound of his snores.
Jacob shivered, the chill of the floor emanating through him, though it was hardly the only thing keeping him from sleeping. He shut his eyes tightly, and eventually unconsciousness took him.