Chapter Fourteen

The Giving

All that I see is blackness, accompanied by the swimming mirages of colors splayed over the backs of my eyelids. Those little floating shapes only visible when one can't see a thing.

My blood sounds loud in my veins, and I am all too aware how quickly my breathing becomes any time I sense movement from Master. I am completely at the mercy of my anxiousness, wondering what each change in air flow or small vibration may bring. In the beginning, I am nervous in a way that makes my stomach churn; because I have known the unknown, and because the Master with me now is different from the Master that has been with me up until now.

In the blank space of my vision, my mind clings to the last images it held. The large stain over the floorboards looms before me; unyielding beneath the rough cloth. Why was that stain hidden beneath the rug, and why did Master suddenly call me, demanding it be cleaned? It is clearly very old, and very permanent.

My deep thoughts are interrupted by the abrupt feel of a wooden bead, wet and pressing at my entrance. I relax my muscles and allow the smallest one inside, bracing myself after each larger one is inserted and letting out a long sigh when the last one fits into place; just large enough to almost be too much. I don't feel Master's touch, nor any heat or breath. Only I exist in this space, and it is as if a ghost has come to torment me in the night. I feel my body responding even while my mind is adrift in other things. My Master has the ability to excite me even in this tense atmosphere, and I am both ashamed and overcome with adoration for this broken man. I shouldn't be getting erect when something is so clearly wrong, and yet the anticipation of any small brush of the skin is amplified through me in this solitude he has created for me.

What have I created for him? Master has given me a home, a bed, a new life. I have friends and mentors and all of the books I could ever want, and I can even dare to dream of some day venturing outside without the fear of an enemy looming in the distance.

I want to give him more than just my body; my submission. I want to help him when I know that he is hurting, because it is obvious in the way he fights with himself any time we are together. Yet here I am, merely laying and waiting and unable to offer him anything more than me. This is it. I am just a broken boy without a family; a slave with nothing to my name to give that he can't already gain for himself. I want so badly to tell him something, anything that could ease his tension. Even if it only means he fucks me and we part ways, at least I will know that he is well enough to fuck. His distance is so despairing to me in this moment. I call out, "Master, I-!" The words are choked from me, stolen by the collar around my neck. I feel the velvet on my skin, tight enough that I can't ignore it but never tight enough to cause damage. Master is always careful, even when he is being rough. The silly thought almost brings a tear to my eye beneath the blindfold. Whatever will I had to call out is lost beneath the collar, somehow its presence brings on the feeling that I, although not gagged, may not speak; like an animal.

My blood is loud in my ears and the plugs are making my head ache. I sense no movement from Master for a long time.

"You must call me Master Levi, boy, or just Master is acceptable." The first moment I felt that I could really make a home here.

"What has he done to you?" The way his eyes still never left me, even when faced with such an ugly body.

"Eren is not for sale."It wasn't just acceptance, it was possessive and final; I was his and deep inside, I knew he was mine.

"You pleased me with your performance today, Eren." The praise that captured me completely.

"You've been a bother, a chore, and a nuisance." The reasons for which I was punished.

"That's perfect, Eren. Just like that." The reasons for which I enjoyed it.

"Why don't you cry, Eren?" That piece of him so utterly raw that neither of us could leave it alone.

"I am glad that you are enjoying it. Happy birthday, for what it is worth."It is worth my entire existence that you cared, for even one moment.

"Eren. Are you alright? They didn't find you, did they?"No Master, it was I who found you.

"Perhaps you cannot give me what I want, afterall. It is a shame. I had high hopes for you. Leave, Eren."You're a terrible actor, Master, yet the words still sting so deeply.

"Very good, Eren."Yes, tell me again and again and again! Call my name more and more and more.

"Clean it up, Eren."I…

Yes. That's why I am here. All of the moments of my shitty life have led me to this time, and this place, with this man. More than just an obedient toy, laying still and silent and used, I am Master Levi's servant, who will do anything and everything for the sake of his wellbeing. I must be strong, if I ever want to clean it up.

The heavens I don't believe in are still granting me small miracles.

I hold in a squeal as the beads in my ass are suddenly ripped out; too quick to get a real response. I feel his cold fingertips remove the ring from around my cock; still hard from the trapped blood but quickly becoming soft. Soon, the ropes go slack and I feel my strained body relax into the plush linens beneath me. The bed shifts around me; my hips dip down first and then my shoulders. In the darkness of my blindfold my mind envisions Master there above me, looking deep into my eyes with want and need. The phantom dips his lips close to mine, so close I can feel the warmth of his breath. My own breath stays caught in my chest. I am so utterly shocked and anxious from the sudden change to my previously secluded world that I almost feel dizzy. The phantom Master Levi smirks playfully, teasing my own tingling lips with his perfectly shaped pair.

Then, it shatters.

The bed shakes noticeably around me and something warm and wet lands on my cold cheek. One, two, three small drops splash down and fall over my skin, echoing the hurt I immediately feel in my chest. Master is… crying.

Master is…shit!

My hands are fumbling at the blindfold, still numb from the ghosts of ropes, and despite the long moments it takes me to remove it, Master is still there just inches above me when I peek out. My head falls back again as I take in the sight of Master's stern face, set in his usual scowl as if he can scare the tears away. His silver eyes are looking into mine, almost searching; trying to find words that neither of us know how to say. Without thinking, without caring, I grip his shoulders and pull him into me.

I wrap my arms around his neck, threading fingers into hair and forcing his nose into the crook of my neck where we can't see each other as we fight ourselves. He makes no moves of his own, choosing instead to remain limp and give in without returning any such comforts. I realize in his awkwardness that Master is likely a stranger to such things, and stroke his hair lightly to test my allowances. His head begins moving back and forth, and I feel his breath puff out into my hair and his lips brush my skin. My heart stops beating a moment, two moments, until it dawns on me that he is speaking, not nuzzling, and I'm still wearing those damn earplugs! I rip them out instantly, worried how much I may have missed, but Master's voice is so low and his words are so jumbled that I doubt I've missed anything helpful in figuring out his strange behavior. I gently try to put enough space between us so that I can hear him, and he lets me for a moment.

"It won't go away, Eren. The stain or the filth! I am covered in it." The sound of his voice cracking in sad anger makes my heart twist, and my arms instinctively pull him back into me, where he resumes his previous position without any fight. His voice continues, muffled by my skin and the blankets beneath us. "People who break the law are scum, no better than him." His hands release the cloth of the bedspread and close in on my back and shoulders. I am stunned at this closeness but remind myself to listen, because if I don't, I'll never be able to give Master more like I wanted.

"He killed all of those people, Eren… he hurt them, and me, and her…. He would have…" I shush him quietly, stroking the short hairs of his undercut and piecing together the puzzle. It was obvious from the size and color of the stain that it was blood. The stories of Master Ackerman were always terrible tales. Reeves used to tell them to us slaves and say, 'See? Aren't you glad I'm not like him?', or threaten to send us to his manor if we ever crossed the final line. As if Reeves himself wasn't just as bad.

And that was it, wasn't it? The reason why Master has taken me in despite his disdain for law-breakers, and likely the reason why he seems to hate me and enjoy me all in the same instance.

Master knew that I understood his pain, but has no idea how to do something as simple as connect. Before Reeves, I had a family. They taught me to laugh and to love, and how to tell someone how you feel and how to treat people. Master Levi only had Master Ackerman to teach him how to live, which was no way at all. If I had been given the chance to kill Reeves, would I have done it? In this moment, I want to say, 'Yes! Absolutely!'

Too afraid to move, and too afraid to say the wrong thing, I just whisper, "I know." My own chest is bursting from Master's pain, and my own pain in remembering Reeves' own malicious acts. My eyes sting with hot tears, and it doesn't take long before they are spilling down my cheeks in tickling trails, down into my ears and Master's smooth hair. When he seems content with my response, I dare to move; rolling us to the side without ever loosening my grip on him. His nose remains tucked into my neck, my arm under his head. His hands no longer grip at my back, but rest there calmly as he attempts to calm his breathing. I imagine he isn't very used to crying.

"Listen to my breathing, Master." I whisper it so quietly, still nervous, that I worry he hasn't heard me. Two minutes of deep, rhythmic breathing seems to work as he eventually syncs to me, and his trembling stops. Every now and then, I still hear whispers from him. Tidbits of confessions, or memories of his abuse, until eventually there is just calm breath and quiet. I dry my own eyes and spend minutes basking in the warmth of Master's body, so close to mine and so completely relaxed in sleep. How many times have I come to wake Master in the morning only for him to already be awake? Just once, I want to have this moment with him. I watch his eyelashes flutter, hip lips part slightly, his hair as it waves from my breath on his forehead. Master's confession is shocking, but this moment is somehow much more so.

So, he murdered his predecessor, huh? So what? The man was evil. This man here, in my arms, isn't evil. Just broken. That is my conclusion, and all it takes for me to solidify my desires.

I want Master to know me as more than a Servant, or a toy, or a pet. I want to do more for him than anyone else has ever done. Even if he never returns my feelings, even if I am a servant for life, to me… I will always be more. I will always give my all for him.

I slip away from him gently, replacing my arm with a real pillow and maneuvering some of the blanket over him after getting off his robe. He sleeps in only a pair of black slacks, so I stoke a small fire in the wood stove and clean up the trunk. I untie the ropes from the bed posts, clean off the beads and the ring, and tuck it all away in the closet. I can't help but stop in the doorway, taking a moment to watch the trunk as it sits, frozen in time in this closet. My fingers dance over the collar around my neck, but I close the closet door before I can change my mind about it.

I may not want to be Master's pet, but I do want to be his something. When I wear this, I feel that I can be more, not less, because Master is twisted and so am I; and this is how we will find our way together. I know it.

The stain on the floor stares at me. Or maybe it's the other way around. It seems different now than hours earlier when I'd first seen it. Now, it has a name. Kenny Ackerman. He was easily a stain during life, so I tell myself this is an improvement and roll the rug back over him, willing him to stay buried under our boots where he belongs.

Downstairs, I am suddenly aware that it isn't actually that late in the evening. Although the slaves would be asleep by now along with most of the wait staff, Hanji and a few others remain awake in the staff dining room tucked behind the kitchen. I consider talking to Hanji about the evening's strange events, but don't want to betray any of Maser's trust. Somehow I am certain that even Hanji hasn't seen him like this. I idle in the hall, listening to the rumble of laughter through the door and contemplating. In the end, I decide to just head to my room. I hike the collar of my shirt up to hide the new leather collar beneath, hoping it's not as obvious as I feel it is. As I walk by, Hanji glances up from his hand of cards, a pile of chips and miscellaneous items in front of him as large as his head, and grins devilishly.

"Eren! Come join us! These chumps are running out of bets!" The cook on his side slaps his arm playfully, and one of the maids across the table pouts. I don't miss how the woman on his other side hangs off of one arm, trying desperately to get attention he isn't giving.

"Don't do it, Eren! He's a monster!"

I smile through my tired haze and wave a hand in their direction. "Thanks guys, but maybe next time. What would I bet, anyway? You're not getting any of my books." I keep my body half-turned to the basement stairs, still conscience of my collar but not wanting to be rude.

"Those are all my books, anyway!" His hair is uncharacteristically disheveled and the pout on his face is accented by pink cheeks.

"Not all of them! And have you been drinking!?" I laugh as Hanji attempts to straighten up, and everyone easily joins in. I sneak downstairs with the sound of their teasing behind me. I've never played poker, but my parents did teach me a few card games when I was young. I really would like to join them sometime, but tonight is just not the night.

Tonight, I will crash into bed, Master's birthday gift tucked under my pillow like always, and miss sleep.

A few hours later, I am lying awake as expected. I shower and dress, opting for a slick dark-grey high-necked sweater to help hide the collar. I shine my black shoes and iron out my black slacks, and admire the look in the mirror. The dark colors bring out my green eyes, and make my brown hair seem brighter as well. For the first time, I am not just dressing nicely for Master's approval; I am dressing nicely for Master's attention.

I am the first one in the kitchen, and a glance at the clock tells me that the others won't be up for at least a half-hour. I fire up the large stoves as a token of apology for not staying up with them, and make Master's morning tea. I set the tray perfectly and add a small bowl of fruits and a pastry baked fresh just the night before in preparation for the morning meal. As a final touch, I leave a note for Hanji that I've taken care of Master's breakfast.

I have no idea if Master will be awake. He is usually awake quite early, often waiting for his tray when we arrive as the cooks awaken. Thinking about how he will remember last night leaves me completely anxious. My fingers shake in their grip on the tray and my legs feel numb as I walk up the spiral.

Will he be angry? Will he not want to see me; send me away? I haven't been waking him in the mornings since I started assisting with the slaves, so he would be expecting Hanji. My toe knocks the pristine wooden door, and I receive no answer from within. I take a deep breath and steel myself. Just act normal. Just like always. Nothing has changed.

I expect the door to creak as it opens, but the new hinges are silent and unhelpful. I guess I'll really be waking him myself.

I set the tray on the table, glancing at Master's sleeping form as he hugs a ball of blankets to his chest. When the curtains to the window slide open, his eyes crack grumpily and close immediately in disdain.

"Good morning, Master Levi. I've brought your breakfast." I remove his usual robe from its hook on the wall and bring it over as he sits up and slide it over each arm. On the outside, I am the usual Eren. On the inside, my heart is racing and my lungs are burning with my effort not to even breathe too quickly for fear of somehow scaring him from me.

"Thank you, Eren. I wasn't expecting you yet." His voice is the normal mask of boredom mixed with sleep, and I detect no hint that he remembers or cares about last night. Although this is what I wanted, it hurts.

He glances around the room as he takes a few sips of tea, noting that everything is in its place. With a sigh, he sets the cup down and settles at looking to his feet.

"Can I get you anything else, Master?" I will my pulse to slow down as he looks up at me. I swear that his eyes hover over my neck for just a moment; seeing right through my sweater to the collar beneath it.

He clears his throat and shuffles the robe back off of his shoulders, and hands it to me. I give him a questioning look but place it back on the hook regardless. "Actually, Eren, I'm still very tired. I think I'll sleep some more."

I am visibly taken back and he scoffs. In the months that I have been here, Master has never once requested more sleep, or even been capable of it. Still, I understand the weight of emotional stress and make my way towards the door.

He pauses in his move to settle under the covers once more, looking to me expectantly. "Eren."

"Yes, Master? Was there something else?"

His face doesn't change from passive boredom even as he scoots towards the center and motions to the vacated spot. "Get over here. Take off those shoes."

I fight to keep my eyes in their sockets, tripping over myself as I practically fall out of my shoes and make my way to the bed, closing the curtains again on my way. His eyes are still locked on mine, paused at the edge of the world we know and the world we've created, and I steady myself to take the leap. As I slip under the covers, never looking away, he moves into my arms and tucks his nose back into the crook of my neck where the collar surely presses into his cheek; silently telling me that this is fine, this is good. This is what he wants. My arms wrap tightly around him once again, and I feel him slip back into sleep.

I don't sleep yet; opting instead to study the fairness of his skin and noticing for the first time the small, faint scars adorning his back. As he breathes, I watch his muscles shift and see his ribs peek from beneath. One of them looks a little out of place.

Each part of him that I see and know is beautiful.

VVVV

My apologies for taking so long on this update. It took me some time to really find Eren's voice here, and I hope it came out well. Leave it to me to post an update so close to a Holiday (for those in the USA), but I hope people can still find the time to enjoy! Today, I am thankful for SNK and my wonderful readers. Thank you all!