"Why is there a twink on my bed?" "Oh, he's your present." / On my crap again x2 / mxm one on one / closed!

“I suppose I will.” That didn’t make it any better, Lucrèce thought to himself. But truthfully it did help, even just a little bit. Especially if he couldn’t find a way to escape until much later. He simply nodded to Daren’s words, and fell silent for the remainder of their walk.

Daren led Lucrèce through the halls and down to the kitchen, falling silent himself. There wasn't really anything to say, after all, that was safe to say. He dipped his head as they started to pass others, keeping his eyes down. Most were other slaves, but others had no collars- the overseers.
"Do you think you can eat? If not, we'll be washing dishes and cleaning the house today."

Lucrèce thought about it for a moment or two, then shook his head. He was hungry, but the chance he might vomit again still hung over his head. “So that leaves the dishes. And house cleaning.” Dishes and housework wouldn’t be so bad, he thought, considering the events of the past couple days. As long as he was staying in a singular spot, at least.
He looked at the overseers curiously, his gaze dancing from them to the other collared slaves, and back again.

Daren nodded some, pulling gently at Lucrèce's hand to lead him to the place where they could get to work. When he noticed Lucrèce looking at the overseers, though, he was quick to shake his head and move to try to get the other to lower his head.
"They don't like to be looked at, please," he said quickly. Everyone else was avoiding meeting the overseers' gazes as well.

Lucrèce noticed, but hadn’t realized the reason yet, just as soon as Daren told him. He swallowed and fell in suit, not very privy to being noticed by an overseer—or anyone, for that matter. “Oh…” He started work slowly, fumbling over the task at hand with inexperienced fingers. Delicate skin not yet worn by labor, and manicured nails. He stared down at his fingers with a frown tugging at his lips.

Daren worked by Lucrèce's side. He was much better at it, after years and years of working in this house. He looked to the other, offering instruction and help where he could.
"What… were you, before this?" he asked softly. Everyone had a past, after all.

Lucrèce accepted the help, making slight adjustments where he needed when instructed. He paused in his work at the question. He hesitated, wondering briefly if it was wise to disclose his past. Who he was. “I’m a noble,” he finally answered, and continued working. “Well, the son of one, actually. My father is a Duke. Since I’m the youngest I got the short end of the stick inheritance-wise… Not that it matters much now, hm?”

"Oh… that explains a lot, then," Daren admitted. He continued to work, looking to Lucrèce as he did. He was curious, how Lucrèce ended up here if he was of such good birth, but he considered it rude to ask at the moment.
"No, I suppose it doesn't. It will make things a bit harder to learn, but hopefully I'll be able to help."

Lucrèce looked over at Daren curiously when he said his past explained a lot, but he decided against asking for clarification, and returned to his task. “I do appreciate the help,” he said. He didn’t want to have to learn these things. He didn’t want his hands to be layered with callouses, and he didn’t want to wear a dress—while he didn’t mind it at first—every night. The dress and everything else that went with it, especially. “I’ll admit that it’s a little easier with you here.”

"Mmh. I'll do my best to help for as long as possible." Daren looked over at Lucrèce for a moment, letting out a small breath. He glanced around once, voice lowering.
"Master doesn't like friendships forming, though. He says it makes us too powerful, too cocky, so… if he or the overseers think we're getting too close, I won't be able to."

“Oh.” Lucrèce frowned, turning his head back to better focus on his work. To make an appearance of it in the slightest, desperate not to catch unwanted attention. “That makes sense.” It really didn’t, he thought all the precautions made no rational sense. Maybe it was just because he wanted to take advantage of them all.

Making friends could mean they trusted enough each other to plan an escape, to think the other wouldn't go directly to an overseer or Alcides to tell them that someone was stepping out of line.
"It's safer to just listen and obey the rules," Daren said softly. "Life becomes better, in the end."

Lucrèce let out a labored sigh, internally knowing that Daren was right. It would be better to lay low, to stay unnoticed. “Right.” In a normal situation, it was better to follow the rules unless the rules were strange and unnecessary. In this case, however, this was nowhere close to a normal situation. “I’m not particularly fond of getting punched in the stomach.”

"That's just the warning," Daren said, not looking up. "Most of the time the punishments are worse. It all depends on what the master feels like…" Daren shuddered some as unwanted memories came to mind. The cages, the beatings, the dark… He hated it.

Lucrèce didn’t look up, but his hands stilled, eyebrows slightly lifted in more shock than he let on. “Damn.” The beating had been a warning? He had expected it to be one of the more severe punishments. Yet considering the place, he was foolish to think there wouldn’t be anything worse.
He sucked in a shaky breath and continued working without another word. He wanted this work to last forever now. It was repetitive. Predictable. It didn’t give him any more injuries.

"Master… is very serious, when it comes to us slaves." Daren still didn't look up, drying off the bowl he had in his hand. He preferred this too. They couldn't mess this up easily other than going too slow, and they were keeping up the speed they needed. So long as an overseer didn't decide to do something to them for just the hell of it, they were okay. They could do this.

“So I’ve seen,” Lucrèce answered no louder than a mutter under his breath. The longer he worked the faster, more efficiently he could wipe the cloth around each dish. It wasn’t hard once he got used to the ritual. He didn’t mind ritualistic tasks. Perhaps that was how he would feel come months later in his position. Maybe it all would become a ritual, like Daren made it seem.
“How long do we work around the house? All day?”

It did for everyone else. Daren had already adjusted well, or as well as one could to this life. Lucrèce would too, in time. Repetitive, meaningless tasks during the day, repetitive, meaningless rooms in the night.
"Usually, unless the master… requires us." Daren let out a soft breath. "It's an honor, for the mater to want us." It was mindless, drilled into Daren, an automated response to any mention of the master wanting to toy with them.

“An honor?” Lucrèce couldn’t help but shudder at the thought. It sure didn’t feel like an honor. He shook his head free of the memories, not wanting to dwell on those thoughts. If he could just keep his head low like Daren said, maybe Alcides would forget about him, and the memories wouldn’t have to mean anything. No fight with Leander, no interactions in the slightest with Alcides. Just dishes and…well, there were still the nights with ‘customers’ to come. Those he couldn’t pass off as a bad dream.

"The greatest honor he could give us," Daren continued. "His favorites are treated the best, and always kept by his side…" The other fell quiet, head low still. "They don't have to work the night, either." He put the current dish down, looking to Lucrèce.

So there was a wrench in his plan now. A little change of perspective, and it jabbed at his sense of dignity. There was no real winning here anyways. Lucrèce stared right back at Daren, almost like he hadn’t heard the other man correctly when he said Alcides’ favorites didn’t have to work nights. “They don’t have to work the night…ever?” He had two options now: avoid Alcides and be expected to let random strangers take him to bed, or crane towards Alcides’ favor and tolerate his advances. He felt sick at either option—and even more disgusted in himself that he would rather take his chances with Alcides.

"Ever," Daren said softly. "Rafael was one of the best of us, but when Alcides came to like him, he never worked another night. And the boy, Malachi, he's… he's the master's absolute favorite." Daren looked down at their work again. He had never been in Alcides's favor, and he couldn't quick bring himself to try to lie and say he wanted it. He enjoyed some… he enjoyed some of his work. When the right man paid for him.

Lucrèce couldn’t stop the disgusted look on his face when Daren mentioned the boy. “That’s…” it took him a while to choose the right word, until he finally decided on “awful.” He went quiet again as he tried to shake the image of Alcides and the boy yesterday from his mind. “Why does Alcides like Rafael so much? What did he do?”

"He lost his tongue. Alcides did it, of course, but he enjoyed the person Rafael became afterward. And with the boy, he was bought with his parents. They… didn't make it through the cages, though. Alcides is the closest to a father he lets the boy have but he's more of a pet than a son." Daren let out a small breath. Malachi deserved better, just like the rest of them.

Lucrèce nodded slowly. “Ah, I…don’t know what to say to that.” It was awful. He didn’t fancy losing his tongue, so perhaps…just maybe there would be another way. He could pretend, though he wasn’t very good at playing a part, and he wasn’t that good at lying. His father always knew when he was lying as a child, and his brothers took advantage of his honesty to tease him like siblings do. It was no wonder Leander never told him about where he went each night. Lucrèce would never be able to keep it a secret if their father ever asked.

"It's what the master likes. Though, it's rumored he likes different things in different people, but I would chalk that up to wishful thinking on some of the other's parts." Daren closed his mouth quickly, falling silent as he realized what he sounded like. Like he was gossiping. If you were gossiping, you were friends, and if you were friends you were punished and separated.
Someone usually ended up sold.

Lucrèce flicked his gaze over to Daren when he stopped talking suddenly, but didn’t outwardly question it. He turned back to his work, but not without sending Daren a final confused sidelong glance. He worked in silence for a while after that, more focused on trying not to think about what was to come later that day. But then because he was trying not to think of it, it was all he could worry about.

Daren worked in silence as well. He didn't look up, but he kept an eye out for the overseers. He had to make sure no one had heard what he had done. He didn't give any response to the confused look, focusing inward. He knew there was no way Alcides would sell Lucrèce so soon, and with the stop in supply, he had been eager to get rid of troublesome slaves. Daren couldn't let that happen…

(Hmm should we skip? Or did you have a plan for while they’re doing housework?)

(I don't have a plan for this time, a skip is good with me!)