#legallylibra

"Glad to see you're still there. Give me just a second and then I'll unlock you." He told him, Octavian huffed in annoyance while he watched him carry inside some shopping bags. He set most of them down in the kitchen, but they were a few he set down in the living room. Finally, he came over and unlocked the handcuffs, he left them hanging by the chain around that post, like Octavian could anticipate being locked up there again. "I got you some clothes, why don't you take a look at everything while I put the groceries up?" He suggested, and Octavian nodded warily.

He went and sat down on the couch, beginning to pull things out of the bags he'd brought back. He couldn't help but make a face, his nose scrunched up as he found multiple pairs of shorts he'd never choose to wear on his own. The shirts he'd gotten him were fine for the most part, aside from some crop tops, he didn't understand why he'd gotten him such skimpy clothing. Well, he understood it, but he didn't want to.

"You really expect me to wear this?" He asked, the irritation clear in his voice.

"I bought it for you for a reason." Damien said, putting some food away into the fridge.

"Yeah, but why'd you have to buy this?!" He cried, holding up a pair of shorts he couldn't imagine would cover much of anything, and Damien laughed.

"Because! I knew it would look cute on you! Why don't you go ahead and try them on?"

"No way, I'm not wearing any of this shit." He said. He'd rather wash the clothes he had before every few days than put any of this on, at least what he had now kept him covered.

"Hm, we'll see about that." Damien said, he sounded amused with his attitude, but Octavian paid him no mind for now. Unless Damien was physically going to dress him himself, he fully intended to keep wearing the clothes he'd bought him earlier, anything to avoid having to expose that much of his body to him on a daily basis.

***

Octavian got away with it for a few days. He didn't think Damien would actually notice, why would he pay attention to what clothes he wore? But he did notice, as Octavian was getting dressed that morning, stull trying to wear the old clothes he'd bought him when they were on the road.

"Baby, why aren't you wearing any of the new stuff I got you?" Damien asked, he came up behind him and slipped his arms around him, causing Octavian to freeze. He wasn't even holding him particularly tightly, yet it still scared him half to death.

"I like these better." He said simply.

"Hmm, I really think they oughtta be washed though. Why don't you put on something new and I'll throw these in the laundry?" He suggested.

"No, I'm fine." Octavian sighed. "I'll just wear this." Damien let go of him, just to turn him around and hold him by the shoulders, looking him in the eye.

"Let's try that again," He said sternly, "Why don't you take that off, and put on something new I got you." Octavian knew he wasn't being given a choice, he felt like this was the most stupid hill for either of them to die on, and yet he was choosing to do it anyway, trying to assert any amount of autonomy he possibly could in this situation.

"I said I'm fine." He told him. He tried to look serious, he tried not to let him intimidate him, but it was hard when he was so much smaller than he was, standing there trembling. Damien made sure he regretted his decision immediately, when he drew his hand back just to slap him so hard across the face he sent him sprawling to the floor.

For a brief moment, Octavian thought that was going to be it, but then he heard a drawer open, he sat up in time to see Damien choose a knife from the top drawer, his heart sank at the sight of it. He tried to get up, but Damien kicked him back down. He got down on the floor with him and straddled his hips, tears welling up in Octavian's eyes as soon as the knife got close to him.

"I'm sorry!" He cried, throwing his arms up in an attempt to defend himself. "I'll wear whatever you want me to, I'm sorry for being difficult, please!"

"You have got to learn to be this agreeable before I start threatening you." Damien told him. "Maybe this time you'll learn not to throw a fit when I tell you to do something." He used the knife to hastily cut his shirt off him, he didn't seem to care when he slashed into his chest or his shoulders, or when Octavian sobbed in pain as the blade cut through his skin. He only briefly got off him to cut through the shorts and underwear he wore, slicing up the side of his leg in the process. Octavian had a feeling he was being intentionally careless with that knife.

"Please, I'll be good…" He whimpered, trying to curl up to protect himself, but Damien easily manhandled his body into the position he wanted, climbing on top of him to straddle his hips again.

"If you won't wear what I so nicely went and bought for you, then you don't need to wear anything at all." Damien said, positioning the tip of the blade below his chin.

"I'm sorry…" Octavian tried to tilt his head further back, tried his hardest to escape the blade.

"It's awfully cute when you try to act like a brat, but I've only got so much patience baby." He told him. He trailed the tip of the knife gently down his throat, being careful not to draw blood just yet, down the center of his chest, digging the tip into his stomach, drawing more beads of blood up. Octavian tried his hardest to hold his breath, too scared that any movement would cause Damien to abruptly plunge the knife into him.

Octavian whined, his hands clenched into fists as Damien made slow, shallow cuts across his stomach. They were light, they didn't bleed profusely, yet they still hurt, and he didn't know what would cause him to suddenly get more vicious. Damien was taking his sweet time, savoring each movement, each sound Octavian made, the way tears streamed down his face and his body shook beneath him.

"Goddamn, you're fuckin' gorgeous…" Damien muttered under his breath, more like he was talking to himself rather than to Octavian. He could see it in his eyes, he was almost entranced with what he was doing to him, focused so intently on each cut he made.

"D-Damien, please stop…" He whimpered, and Damien dug the blade in deeper, eliciting a cry of pain from him. Damien held the knife there, watching the way his face contorted in pain, the way he struggled to breathe through it, he was just watching him, a smile on his face the whole time. "Damien…" He begged, and finally, Damien did pull the knife away, taking in the fresh wounds across his stomach.

"Look at that- you went and bled on my floor." He sighed. Octavian wanted to snap at him, to tell him to fuck off, that he was fucking ridiculous, but he kept his comments to himself. "Come on baby," He said, getting off him and standing up, helping him to his feet, "Let's get you cleaned up now." He said, he was suddenly so much calmer. Octavian had no choice but to nod, his legs shaking as he followed him to the bathroom.

***

Damien had meant what he'd said. Even after cleaning him up and dressing his new wounds, he forced him to clean his own blood off the floor, all the while he refused to give him anything to wear.

He also refused to let him hide. He made him stay downstairs with him, he was in the kitchen humming to himself while he prepared dinner, while Octavian stayed in the living room. He'd grabbed a blanket off the back of the couch to wrap around himself, huddled at the end of the couch. Damien smiled at him when he stepped back into the living room to check on him.

"Food's in the oven, should be done in about forty-five minutes- baby. Are you trying to hide?" He asked, looking amused.

"Jus' cold…" He muttered, refusing to look at him. Damien walked over, immediately ripping the blanket away from him.

"If I wanted you to cover up, I would've just let you get dressed." He told him. "Now come on, I want you to step outside with me."

"Excuse me?!" He stared at him like he'd lost his mind, there was no way he was going to go outside naked.

"You heard me, let's go outside. I want a cigarette, and you just said you were cold. It's warmer out there." He said, he grabbed him by the arm and pulled him to his feet, dragging him towards the front door.

"I'm not going out there without clothes on!" He cried, trying to pull back, but Damien just laughed.

"What, do you think somebody might see you?" He asked, opening the door and pulling him outside. "There ain't nobody around here for miles, calm down!"

Damien took a seat in a chair on the front porch, taking a cigarette from the pack and lighting it, while Octavian stood awkwardly beside him. He kept his arms crossed over his chest, his legs pressed tightly together. Despite the warm air, he still felt cold, too exposed for his liking. Damien kept looking at him, looking him up and down, like he was planning something. Octavian hated it, how he looked at him like he was taking in every inch of him.

"Can I go back inside… please?" He asked, trying not to get too upset in the hopes Damien might be nicer.

"Nope." He said simply. Octavian scowled, staring at the wooden floor of the front porch. He watched an ant cross the wood, focusing on it intently so he could try to avoid thinking about his situation too much, the warm air against his naked body, the smell of Damien's cigarette, the bandages over his fresh wounds, even the way the porch felt beneath his bare feet, he just wanted to make it all go away.

Damien snapped him out of that when he suddenly grabbed him by the arm, he yanked him down so he was bent over his knee, his leg painfully digging into the wounds across his stomach. Octavian gasped, his mind racing, he was too exposed, this position was too vulnerable, all he could think about were all the things Damien could do to him in a humiliating position like this. What he wasn't expecting was the sudden, searing pain on his lower back that caused him to let out a cry, he realized Damien had once again put out a cigarette on him.

"If you cry like that every time, I think you might become my new favorite ashtray." Damien snickered, petting Octavian's hair. He hurriedly pushed himself off him, desperate to get away, and Damien let him, watching him as he stumbled back, his legs shaking.

"W-why?!" He cried, he didn't understand what he'd even done to deserve it, but Damien just shrugged, getting to his feet.

"Because you were there, looking awfully tempting." He said, putting a hand on the back of his neck to guide him back inside. "Might have to make use of you more often." He told him, giving him that smile Octavian dreaded.

He found himself wishing there was anything he could do to make himself less tempting to Damien.

***

It was a couple of days before Damien so graciously let him have his clothes back. He'd unlocked the chain around his ankle- he made Octavian sleep chained to the bed post every night, but he found it preferable to the handcuffs- and told him to go ahead and get dressed, he'd left his clothes at the end of the bed. He left him alone in the room, almost like he was testing him to see what he'd actually do.

Octavian spent a while just looking at the clothes. Plain cotton underwear, a T-shirt, and those shorts he'd specifically complained about, starting this whole mess for himself. After thinking it over, he sighed, and he got dressed in the clothes Damien wanted him to wear.

He came downstairs to find Damien preparing breakfast for the two of them, he smiled when Octavian walked into the room, he whistled as he looked him up and down. Octavian knew he liked to do that just to annoy him.

"There ya are! Look at you, I knew you'd look pretty in that!" He said, grinning at him. Octavian chose to ignore him, his face red as he went to sit at the table, careful not to lean against the back of the chair as the burn on his back was still sensitive. "You know, it's polite to say thank you when somebody compliments you." Damien said, that warning edge to his voice that Octavian knew meant he should just do what he was told.

"Thank you, Damien…" He said softly, too tired to argue with him and risk anymore pain.

"You're welcome baby!" He said brightly, his mood lifted instantly. Octavian was too exhausted to try and push back against him, the wounds on his body too fresh to risk adding anymore. He sat there feeling dejected, staring blankly down at the table, once again wondering how his one simple, mundane life had turned into this.

***