The Master [MxMxM+]

13

Pierre woke up to the sound of footsteps padding across the floor, they went left, right, then did it all over again.

He moved, and the footsteps stopped. His eyes were still half closed, groggy from sleep. But he made out the long legs at the foot of the bed, their gazes finally meeting when Pierre turned on his side on the bed.

He was fully dressed like he was ready to go to work, apart from the sleeves he'd rolled up.

"I woke you," his deep voice said. "Good."

The Master looked at him skeptically, almost like he was searching his face for something.

"Bonjour to you too," said Pierre. He hugged the covers tighter, trying to sit up.

That's when he felt the first sort of discomfort, Pierre yelped softly, and in two strides the Master was by his side.

He took Pierre's hand in his. "Can you get up?" He tugged Pierre's hand but he snatched it back immediately, away from the Master's grip.

His jaw ticked. Patience already wearing thin.

Pierre wasn't stupid. The magic of the night before had obviously vanished. For just one night, Pierre had been able to experience what he'd always wanted to, and with someone who was obviously so out of his league. It was too good to be true.

Getting up right now just put a solid air around everything that transpired. The Master would see his disgusting body and look at him with pity or worse.

If he wanted him out the room, he'd go. But he didn't want his eyes fixed on him as he made his escape. At least let me keep my dignity.

The mattress disappeared from beneath Pierre and in an instant he was us up against the Master's arms. He was stunned at the Master's strength. Carrying him like he weighed nothing. His hands automatically fastened onto his neck.

Pierre was shocked to find out that they weren't moving towards the door, but the bathroom instead.

Once inside, the Master set him down by the shower door. "Five minutes," was all he said as Pierre got inside.

The water was welcome as the spray hit him. Running through every patch of skin the Master had touched the night before. The memory was surreal.

Pierre got out to find the Master standing and waiting for him, watching the door. There was no expression on his face, only acknowledgement that Pierre was done.

He immediately got back in. "At least send me a towel first," Pierre stuck his hand out. Waiting for the towel that never came.

The Master sighed then opened the door the rest of the way and stepped before him.

Naked as the day he was born, Pierre was lifted once more and taken to a really big bath. And fancy at that. The outside was encrusted in what looked like cut gemstones contrary to the inside, which looked smoother than a mirror.

The Master slowly lowered Pierre and dipped his feet into the water, getting only his toes in while the man's hands fastened around his neck. "Too hot?"

It was hot, but not that hot, just almost warm.
Pierre wanted nothing more than to get in. He shook his head.

"Good," said the Master. He lowered Pierre gently into the water, his cheeks tinged in embarrassment.

It was unbelievable. A bath? For him?
It felt like one of those movies he watched where you think everything is going well, just for something dreadful to happen immediately after.