Mini-Comfortember Day 6
Prompt 6: Baby It’s Cold Outside
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A continuation of yesterday's comfortember prompt. Told from the other side of the glass.
TW/CW: captivity whump, slave whump, minor whump (but only because Khaled is sixteen, nothing bad happens to him), carewhumper, conditioning (briefly mentioned)
There’s nothing quite like the quiet calm of the season’s first snowfall. The snowflakes drifting daintily to the frozen ground were accompanied by the roar of the penthouse’s furnace, the ambient music on Thomas’ Bluetooth speakers, and the incessant banging on the sliding door to the rooftop balcony.
Thomas tore his eyes away from the emails he was replying to on his tablet. He looked up at the teenager outside desperately begging to be let in. No less than half an hour ago, the sixteen-year-old stood enraptured by window, saying he’d only ever seen snow on TV before, and then wondering aloud if it felt as soft as it looked. And Thomas, like the gracious master he was, decided to unlock the boy’s ankle cuffs and let him out in his first snow for a bit. It seemed the ungrateful little bastard was already sick of it, as he banged on the door with his reddening hands and shivered in his hoodie and sweatpants.
“Master, please! Let me in, I’m cold!” Khaled’s voice was muffled by the thick glass, which was steadily fogging up with every word.
Thomas rolled his eyes. “Well, that’s what happens when you go out in only a hoodie, sweatpants, and sneakers!” he yelled back. He conveniently ignored the fact that the hoodie and sweatpants were the warmest clothes the boy even had, and he didn’t buy him any boots. “Come on, just weather it out for ten more minutes?” he offered, already turning back to his emails.
“You said that fifteen minutes ago!” Khaled protested. He jammed a finger into the glass door. “I can see the clock on the stove from here!”
Damn, that kid has good eyesight! Thomas took one more look at his emails and groaned, switching off the tablet and rising reluctantly from the warm spot he made on the couch. “Alright, alright, alright already! I’m coming!” he called. He flicked the switch and slid the door open, letting in a frigid gust of air and the fastest teenager he’d ever seen, as Khaled ducked hastily into the warmth.
“F-f-f-f-fuck snow… ‘s too c-cold…” Khaled murmured as he struggled to take off his sodden shoes.
Thomas closed the door and knelt next to Khaled to help him take his shoes off. “You’re soaked through, boy, and freezing, too!” he commented. His warm, broad hands brushed against Khaled’s smaller, colder ones. As he straightened back up from where he knelt, Khaled’s wide brown eyes followed him, with melted snowflakes in his lashes glittering like gems in the living room lights. His face glowed red from the cold, and he clenched his jaw to prevent his teeth from chattering. Even if Thomas didn’t go out in the cold himself, looking at his pathetic boy was almost enough to make him shiver.
“Would you like something to warm you up?” he asked.
Khaled nodded immediately. Thomas placed a hand on his shoulder and gently pushed him towards the couch. “Snuggle up with the electric blanket next to the couch –remember, next to the couch,” he emphasized. “I’ll be with you in a moment.”
He clapped the boy on the shoulder and made his way towards the kitchen. He opened the fridge, then the cupboards above and to the right of the stove, then the drawers below the island countertop, and before long, he was heating a saucepan of milk and decanting powdered hot chocolate mix into two mugs. Once the milk came to a simmer, the man took it off the heat, poured and mixed it carefully with the powder in the mugs, and topped each mug of dark, steamy liquid with mini-marshmallows.
Thomas came back to the living room, mugs of hot chocolate in each hand, and smiled affectionately at the pile of blankets curled at the foot of the couch. Next to the couch, just like he’d said. “Good boy,” he praised.
There was hardly anything of Khaled’s peeking out from underneath that blanket cocoon; the only way he knew the boy was under there, besides the vaguely human shape, were the pair of sock-clad feet poking out near the bottom. “I’m gonna pass you something hot, alright? Be careful.” He extended the mug towards the blanket nest, and a lighthearted feeling fluttered in his chest when a hand darted out to grab it and slowly absorb it back in. “I’m sitting back down.” He carefully treaded around Khaled until he could settle back into his previous spot on the couch. Outside, the snow still silently fell. Thomas took a sip out of his hot chocolate, then picked up his tablet again, balancing it on one knee as he opened the email app again.
A warm, fabric-swaddled weight pressed itself against his shins. “Thank you, Master,” Khaled said from beneath the blankets.
He chuckled. “You’re welcome, Khaled.”
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