His Boy
Ship: Mikael Mikaelson/Pierre de Troyes AN: Doppelganger of Klaus CW: Toxic Relationship, manipulation/abuse/compulsion WC: 871
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Pierre's fingers moved carefully over the keys of the piano, Mikael had taken a liking to the instrument hearing others play it, and his own old instrument had started to fall from the use. He always needed, wanted -he mentally corrected as Mikael would, a creative release. So Piano seemed like a good choice to move onto, especially since he'd learned Mikael did not like when he painted or drew.
There had been a segment of time he couldn't play either because the man had shattered the bones in his hand and didn't let him set it right. Months later he did it again purposefully and fixed it, then 'requested' him play for him.
He hit the wrong key in the tune he was trying to mimic and heard a disappointed sigh from across the room. He tensed immediately. "I thought you were better then making such obvious mistakes." Mikael said dryly.
"I am s-"
"No." He cut him off suddenly at his side and turned him towards him, hand tight on his jaw. "How often do I tell you that a man doesn't Apologise, boy?" He said annoyed.
Pierre's eyebrows drew together for just a moment, he'd been told to apologise just as often as he was told Not to. He nodded best he could with the grip on his jaw.
"Are you going to get it Right now?"
"I-" will do my best, he was going to say, "of course." He said instead.
"Then, Do It." He said, "if my Son could play it, I would hate you Not to be able to." He told her, "it would disappoint me."
Pierre nodded slowly and Mikael let go, smiling as he watched him swallow in worry. Then Mikael stepped back and watched him as he sat down, expression going flat. Then Pierre's hand moved back to the keys and took a slow breath and then restarted the song.
He moved threw the song perfectly, eyes staying on the keys, doing his best to ignore the purposefully watching gaze from Mikael. He finished and looked up at him, hopeful but doing his best Not to show it, "better," Mikael said simply. Not good, not a compliment. Just. 'Better.' Which was about as close to praise as he got about anything. He did his best not to frown and just nodded.
"Anything else you would like for me?" He asked.
"Come here." He said simply and he didn't hesitate and was immediately in front of him. He shifted with almost Nervous energy. Mikael caught his shirt and pulled him down into his lap, only to drag his head to the side and bite into his throat sharply.
Pierre bit the inside of his lip to hold back a slight moan, pain or not, Mikael moved one hand under his shirt to his waist thumb running gently over his skin, the softest thing he ever gets from the man. He was doing all he could not to grip him in return. Mikael rarely liked that.
Mikael pulled back for a moment and Pierre shifted ready to stand again despite his dizziness, but he was held closer instead, "I'm not done." Pierre nodded and tilted his head again, "good boy," he said pleased and he all but melted.
He shifted closer and Mikael bit into his throat again, until he felt him going weak then finally stopped and instead kissed, only one gentle almost apologetically, then he moved to pull him into an actual kiss, teeth still sharp against his lips. Pierre's hand moved into his shirt this time.
.
It was just after one his shows that they left, and Mikael stopped seeing someone familiar across the street. Mikael was suddenly away from his side, Pierre blinked then moments later he followed he got to Mikael just in time to see him rip the heart from a man who looked so like him.
Pierre stilled, eyes wide and fearful as a man who looked like an older version of him, he slowly took a step back feeling his breathing start to go out of his control and Mikaels attention snapped to him.
"Pierre."
"Wh- what-"
"Pierre!" He said again and he snapped to him, then looked to the body then to Mikaels angry glare he turned to run. He had never done that before, but he was so... he was so scared.
His back suddenly hit a rock wall a hand tight on his throat. "Why is it always THIS that gets you to break the words." He all but growled and forced him to keep his eyes locked on his. "You are Not scared, you won't remember seeing the death." He told him in a low but annoyed voice, "you're mine, you don't want to run from me, do you?"
"No." He said in a measured voice, "why would I want to run from you."
"That's what I thought." He said simply, his hand tightened slightly for a moment but Pierre just leaned into it.
"Did I mess up again?" He asked him once he could catch his breath.
"Yes. But I'm sure you'll make it up to me once we're home." He told him.
"Yes, sir." He nodded in agreement.












