This angsty drabble, plays in @deluxewhump boxboy-frat house universe. It takes place more towards the end of my fanstory idea but hey the good thing about this post format is that one doesn’t have to publish in chronological order right?!
I also tried to incorporate the amazing writing tips @haro-whumps @hashtag-anthems @ghostcomit @voidwhump and others gave me. Thank you guys.
TW: fucked up headspace of the boxbuddy, modern slavery, blink and you miss it mention of injury, Boxboy universe stuff,
“Shelter.”
That’s what their master had muttered as he pushed their small body into the passenger seat of his car, all while avoiding the big red rimmed eyes that wandered over his face, searching.
He couldn’t quite stop his teeth from grinding together, jaw locked painfully as his finger dug in the cold leather encased steering wheel, hoping Bambi wouldn’t notice. Wouldn’t startle at the storm brewing behind blue eyes fixed sternly on the barely lit street ahead. Flickering streetlamps flashed by, dancing over Bambis cheekbones, their short dark hair, nearly black where the light couldn’t touch and those big brown eyes never leaving their masters face.
He couldn’t remember the last time that they had been afraid of him. The first time on the other hand seemed to be burned in his mind for all eternity.
His eyes burned for sure as he pressed his foot down on the gas paddle, hard, blinking angrily. Trying to shake off the memory of that day they stood there, in his Livingroom, for the very first time.
Fresh out of the big wooden box. Half naked, shaved head ducked low, whole body trembling like a nearly drowned kitten and just as frail. They were so so incredibly small. Trying to bring their breathing under control as they stared up up up at him.
They didn’t gave him that company guaranteed smile that day, but a real one, weeks later that he had earned and not bought.
He could never quite comprehend how so much courage could fit into such a small body, hide in all the cracks and corners of a shattered soul, life in scars and a missing pinky finger.
The Boxbuddy, however, felt like they lost all their fight on the road as they stood there, next to their master, staring up up up at a grim looking young man in striped Pajama pants.
He must be shelter than. Cold night air cut through their loose knit sweater and creeped right into their heart, beating rabbit fast in its futile attempted to bring some of the warmth back.
The words felt like ice shards as they choked them out: “You’re reselling me?!”
“No! No, I’m not reselling you.” Their master cupped their shoulders in his broad warm palms, looking at them for the first time that night. “I’m letting you go.”
“Go?” Even to them, their voice sounded dead, defeated. “Go where?!”
Their master’s warmth was washed away by the cold terror flooding their body, piercing last bit of their being like ice shards. Numb fingers fisted into soft wool.
“I I don’t want to go. Please. I want to stay with you. You, you, you are safe. “ A shuddering sob burst out, despite their best efforts to keep it sealed behind quivering lips.
“Is it because of the crying yesterday?! I promise I’ll stop! Please I promise! I’ll be good. I won’t- I I’ll be-“
“Stop!”
The word came out harsher than intended, clawing its way out bevor his throat could close up.
His heart tried to twist its way out of his ribcage, getting stuck in between brittle bones and he had to look away from the flinching little body, standing there, shivering, in this rundown street in front of this foreign small house. Everything looked strangely washed out, the young pajama pants man leaning, patiently waiting, against the yellow painted door, studying the dark houses around them.
Finally, masters blue eyes dared to land on his Boxbuddy again.
“Of course it’s not because you cried. How could you- I would never- “
He swallowed the pain behind what he hoped would pass as a reassuring smile, as he rubbed gently at their tear streaked face.
“You didn’t do anything wrong. I just- I was never supposed to have you. No one should ever be supposed to own someone else, okay? That’s just wrong and I- I try to set it right again.”
Their whole world began to turn upside down, at their master’s words, head spinning with all the things they’d learned during training. All the things they learned in the frathouse.
How could this be wrong?! To be there for his master was what they were for! What could be wrong about making others happy?! About being good?! About caring for all of them, caring for Zee.
The Handlers had taught them how the owners were good and save and wanted them and how happy it would make them all to be good for them and how lucky they will be to be cared for and loved and they remembered not believing any of it, not really, deep down, until their master had come and turned all the handlers promises reality. About being loved, being cared for.
The small barley lit houses around them began to start spinning, as their knees gave out and they dropped, with a thud, to their masters feed.
“I don’t care. I don’t care about this, please. Pleasepleaseplease. I just lost Zee. I can’t lose you too.”
Shallow little breaths fogged pristine leather as they pressed their burning forehead against master’s cold shoes.
“Please, please, please don’t abandon me master.”
