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ashintheairlikesnow · 4 years

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Colton/Kauri Fanfiction #1

@shameless-whumper and I ended up basically accidentally creating a challenge in which I promised to reward anyone who drew a specific, amazing fanart idea I was sent in an ask with a fake fanfiction drabble that featured the Colton/Kauri pairing.

You guys took me up on it.

Holy shit did you ever.

I am currently sitting at I believe four fanfic drabbles owed with at least one more soon to be claimed, I think.

I’ve finished the first, and it’s below the cut. I give you... @haro-whumps‘s request for “Colton touches Kauri’s hair”:

Tagging: @maybeawhumpblog, @pepperonyscience, @haro-whumps, @18-toe-beans, @burtlederp, @finder-of-rings, @giggly-evil-puppy, @lump-of-whump, @whimpers-and-whumpers

(Colton is of course @shameless-whumper‘s and this drabble comes with express permission and no small amount of glee)

The fog was deep and my voice was inside and it told me a secret by NotAHowenShipper Youtube Videos - The Host

No Archive Warnings Apply, Colton/Kauri, On the Run, Forbidden Love, All They Do Is Kiss (This Time), I wrote this instead of sleeping, should I write another one where they do more, maybe if I get enough comments lol, omg can you even imagine the Host’s face, Owen Grant is a dick, wouldn’t it be so funny if Vincent Shield saw this

Kauri and Colton are on the run after leaving the Host and Owen Grant. They’re alone in the city with no one to turn to but each other. A cold night in a dark alley changes everything.

I love comments and kudos, you guys!!! Let me know if I should write a chapter two or something that gets a little ~spicier~, if you get my drift! LOL these two were so cute in the Better Box Boy video, I hope we see them again. They are TOTALLY made for each other, right????

This was written after like six Redbulls and at 3 AM so don’t judge!!!

The alley is already dark, the shadows of the buildings on either side closing in over their heads. The footsteps pound past, a flash of darker shadow in the yellow late-afternoon winter sunlight.

Colton’s black hoodie blends in, the hood pulled up to hide as much of his face as possible, and he presses Kauri against the crumbling brick wall behind him to hide the younger man, in his thin white T-shirt, from the handlers pursuing them. He has a hand against the wall on either side of Kauri, boxing him in, his mouth very nearly pressed against Kauri’s ear. “Just be quiet and they won’t see us,” He murmurs, and thinks that Kauri’s ear feels cold where his lips just barely brush along the shell.

Kauri was already shivering long before they made it into the alley, but here out of the weak sunlight the temperature drops even more, and he can hear Kauri’s soft breathing starting to get shallow and panicked.

Or maybe he’s breathing faster because of something else.

“It’s okay,” Colton says softly, low voice pitched deep enough not to carry. Black curls gently graze against his forehead, his cheek, and Kauri is biting his lower lip, his eyes staring to the side, towards the entrance of the alley. “It’s gonna be okay, Kauri, I promise, just wait until they’re gone.”

He can still hear them shouting to each other, trying to find them, and while Kauri nods, Colton chances a direct look and finds his blue eyes are wide, white-rimmed, and frightened.

He can’t stand it; hates the way Kauri looks so scared, even days after running out of the Host’s house. They could be picked up any second, the moment a sleeve rides up enough to show the barcodes and numbers tattooed into their wrists, the second their jittery nervousness is read for what it is by strangers on the street.

Pets on the run, to be rounded up and returned to Owen Grant and the Host - probably sent back to the Facility to be refurbished and sold off like virus-riddled computers. He doesn’t even know why he decided to run when he did. Owen and the Host had been in another room, and he’d just grabbed Kauri’s arm and said, come with me.

The real question was why Kauri had so quickly gone with him.

No argument, no fight. Kauri had only whispered, yes, flashed him a slight, shy smile, and run right after him out the door. The Host and Owen hadn’t even noticed until they were most of the way down the block, and he’d heard them shouting as a distant sound that seemed barely human.

But barely human is what they are, and the only way to stay together now is to never stop moving. They’re hungry - Colton’s been panhandling, making enough to get by but not really enough to live on, even as homeless ex-pet runaways. Kauri’s too distinctive, his looks are too much like Vincent Shield, and so he mostly stays back in shadows while Colton, who looks like no one in particular or at least no one famous, does his best to keep them fed.

They’re hungry, and hunted, and running out of time to figure out another plan. He doesn’t even really know where he is, or why he ran, or what he expects to happen next. The weirdest part is that it doesn’t even matter.

All that matters is who came with him.

Kauri shivers again, and he’s close enough to feel it. Colton lifts a hand to his face, and Kauri’s breathing calms, a little, at the touch. Colton swallows against the urge to keep this up, to never stop doing whatever it took to make Kauri feel just a little safer.

“Hey, are you shaking ‘cause you’re scared, or is this just because of the cold?” His heart is pounding but it feels like it’s less from fear than it was before, now some other feeling creeping its way in.

It’s something he doesn’t want to think about, or to talk about, but it’s still been between them from the moment he’d seen Kauri from behind the camera.

“Can-... do I get to say both?” Kauri whispers, and the two of them laugh, airy and breathless and barely sounds at all. “They almost got us that time, Colton.”

“It doesn’t matter. We got away again. We’ll always get away, I promise, I’ll make sure you always get away.”

Kauri turns his head a little, and they’re barely an inch apart, now. “I don’t want me to always get away, Colton,” Kauri says, and there’s a hitch to his voice. “I want both of us to always get away... together.”

The air is warmer between them than the cold around them, and this time when he feels Kauri shiver, Colton pushes closer to him instead of pulling back. He unzips his sweatshirt - they’d dropped the branded Host’s merchandise as fast as they could, taking a sweatshirt right off the hanger at a convenience store and putting the Host’s sweater in its place - and slides it off his shoulders.

Colton wonders why it is that this is the person he wanted so badly to protect that he’d lose everything - and risk even more - just to end up here. Some sweet guy he’d only barely met, barely spoken to… but here they were.

Together, half-starved and freezing in a dirty alley, and Colton is taking off the only warm clothing he has to slide it over the shoulders of the younger man looking up at him with wide, blue eyes, his face slightly scrunched up with confusion.

“Colton, no,” Kauri says softly, but he pulls the sweatshirt tighter around himself, and Colton swallows against an unfamiliar feeling (but no, it’s not unfamiliar at all) of wanting to see Kauri wearing his clothes - all of them, not just his sweatshirt - one day. “You’ll get cold.”

“You’re already cold,” Colton says softly, and his smile is slight and maybe a little sharp, but softer than it ever was for the Host. And Kauri’s returning smile had none of the nervous fear of every time Colton had seen him look towards Owen Grant when Colton had stood behind the camera.

“I don’t want us to trade off being cold,” Kauri says, and his hands are a little shaky when he reaches out, twisting fingers into the fabric of the thick long-sleeved shirt Colton was wearing under the hoodie. When he pulls Colton forward, he moves easily enough, until they’re touching and Colton can feel Kauri’s heart beating as hard and fast as his own. Kauri shifts, pulling the sides of the hoodie around so they wrapped around behind Colton, too, and Kauri’s shiver was still there but it had changed, too. “We could be warm together, instead.”

Colton’s forehead drops forward, to rest against Kauri’s, breathing a little harder. “We don’t even know who we are,” He whispers, and there’s real pain in that confession. He doesn’t know why he’d signed up for the pet program, what he’d done in his past that was so bad he had given up everything.

But he’s found something else in the process.

“I could be a murderer. I could be something terrible, and you don’t even know.” Even as he speaks the words, Colton’s hands move up to cup Kauri’s face, the cold cheeks against his warm palms. He moved his fingers up into Kauri’s hair, into wild black curls that had gone tangled with days on the run, a little dirty, but still they feel impossibly soft to him.

Kauri melts into the touch, leaning his head back slightly, and he’s so close. He’s so, so close.

“I could be a murderer, too,” Kauri whispers, and Colton can’t stop the huff of laughter. Kauri’s eyes flash with defensiveness and the scrunch of confusion shifts to an attempt at an angry frown, but his hands stay wrapped in Colton’s shirt, and Colton doesn’t pull his hands back from his hair. “I could be a murderer!”

“No offense,” Colton says softly, “But killing someone is genuinely the second-most impossible thing I’ve ever tried to imagine you doing.”

“What’s the most impossible thing?” Kauri asks, and Colton keeps one hand in his hair, sliding around behind his head, while the other moves to take him by the chin, lifting his head just a little bit.

The wide blue eyes are on his, now, and they’re not frightened anymore.

“The most impossible thing I can imagine you doing is this,” Colton whispers, and leans down to kiss him.

#fake fanfiction is surprisingly fun to write #Colton/Kauri #Kauri/Colton #God help me #Cori shippers #shameless-whumper #box boy #somewhere Kauri would really like someone to read it to him like six times #and somewhere else Colton would probably like to punch me in the face

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ashintheairlikesnow · 4 years

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Whumptober Day 27: Extreme Weather

CW: Environmental whump, references to drug and alcohol use, references to Derrick (see: The Break-Up for his last appearance), Kauri’s Bad Life Choices, slut-shaming, trauma response, untreated abuse survivor with fucky headspace, referenced abuse

When Krista opens the door, Kauri stands on the doorstep to her apartment soaked to the bone, water dripping off the flattened curls of his hair, stuck to his forehead. Water runs in rivulets down his cheeks like tears, drips from the sleeves of his sweater onto her doormat.

She’s proud of that doormat. She picked it out at Target and it says Shoes Off, Witches.

Krista decorates for every holiday, because she can, because the holidays belong to her. There are tiny pumpkins, alternately white and orange and painted with little patterns, lined up along the little railing on their concrete patio. She has little witch figurines in the centerpiece of the circular dining table she and Sonya found at a garage sale, and a Halloween wreath made of black and orange leaves hangs on the door.

Mrs. Richardson didn’t celebrate Halloween, because of something to do with celebrating our sinful natures and something something demonic influences hidden in seeming fun and the devil something harry potter witchcraft something, but Krista celebrates every holiday, just because she can.

Sometimes she thinks of Miss Alyssa and wonders if she celebrates Halloween, now, too.

“What are you doing here, Kauri?” Krista squints past him, shivering against the chill air even in her big soft purple sweatshirt. It had cost her six hours of work to pay for it, it was so expensive, but it’s the softest thing she’s ever felt in her life, like wearing a cloud with a hood on it everywhere she goes.

“Can I crash here?” Kauri blinks rainwater out of his eyes.

Behind him, the rainstorm that’s been going for nearly three days continues, pouring water like it’s falling from overturned buckets from the dark gray skies. “Sorry, they shut the buses down, it’d take me like five hours to walk to the shelter from here, and…” He rocks up and down on the balls of his feet, and Krista winces at the squelch from his thin black-and-white checked shoes.

Krista takes a deep breath, looking over her shoulder. Sonya is still in the bedroom, finishing up a call for work, speaking in her Phone Voice, softer and pleasant, with all the edges sanded off. When Krista was a pet, she spoke in a voice like that. Sonya speaks for her job to men who constantly interrupt her, but somehow when she does it, the voice is gentle but commanding, where Krista always felt her voice just sounded… weak. “I don’t know, Kauri, I’m not… I’m not sure.”

“Please?” Kauri’s eyes are huge and blue, and water frames them as it runs from his hair. He shudders, as a winter breeze blows at his back. A spatter of the tiniest water droplets is blown with it, and Krista blinks rapidly against the feeling. “Please? It’s just for tonight, they said the buses should be running tomorrow morning if it doesn’t get worse… please?”

“If it doesn’t get worse,” Krista repeats, her eyes scanning back into the parking lot. Someone drives past, their headlights on, and the rain falls in such thick sheets that Krista can only see their headlights, not even the car.

Who would drive, in something like this?

She looks back at Kauri, and figures maybe someone who would walk in rain like this, someone who doesn’t have a choice. Not every business is closed, after all, and not everyone can work from their laptop like Sonya. Not everyone can afford the days off if they call in. There are people who don’t have the option to stay safe from the floods. There are people who are told to risk their lives or they will not eat.

There are times Krista wonders how anyone doesn’t become a pet. At least she never had to watch a paycheck disappear from a bank account nearly as soon as it was deposited before.

Not that she knows of, anyway.

“It’s just overnight,” Kauri says, softly. “I know she doesn’t like me, but… but it’s just one night.”

She looks at him, in his soaked-up shoes, shivering in the rain and with his backpack dripping as hard as everything else, and then she sighs. The felt leaves on the Halloween wreath rustle against the door as she steps back and to the side. “Take your shoes off and stay on the mat, I’ll get you a towel to get you to the shower. I think you can probably wear some of my sleeping clothes.”

Kauri’s eyes brighten, and he kicks off his sopping shoes and peels off soaked-through white cotton socks. His toes are wrinkled from being wet for so long, and he spreads them with a sigh of relief against the rough doormat.

“Thank you, Krista, thank you so much-”

“Get inside,” She says, but her voice is gentle, and he steps in to stand on the inside doormat (this one just says I hope you brought tacos) while Krista walks away, across the soft beige-gray-nothing-color carpet in the apartment, swinging around the low-slung coffee table by the couch. She ducks into the small bathroom and grabs the towels off the towel rack.

Sonya calls out, “Baby, do I hear someone at the door?”

Krista hesitates, towels in hand - she bought them at Target, too, the bathroom is fall-themed and the towels are a deep saturated pumpkin orange and a hunter green and they have cream-colored stitching that reads thankful and choose joy - and looks towards the closed bedroom door. “Um, yes. You remember Kauri Grant?”

There’s a pause, and then the bedroom door cracks open, and Sonya peeks through. Her short, straight brown hair is pulled back with clips to keep it out of her eyes, and she’s still in her pajama pants and t-shirt from last night. “That druggie friend of yours? The homeless guy?”

Krista shakes her head, nervously twisting the bunched-up towels in her hands. “He’s, he’s not-... he’s not on drugs, Sonya, I told you he’s not on drugs.”

“But he is homeless.”

“... yes.”

Sonya’s lips are a straight line, and the look she gives Krista makes her heart flip unhappily. Kauri always makes Sonya look like this. She doesn’t trust him, thinks he’s going to get Krista arrested, thinks he deals or buys or something, but Krista knows the truth and it’s a truth she can’t tell.

If she told Sonya what Kauri is, there would be questions, and then Krista would have to explain what she is, and she… she can’t.

What if Sonya reported him? Krista would shatter if she were the reason someone had to go back. So… she keeps his secret for him, and it’s just one lie, but it means Sonya only ever believes the worst.

“Well.” Sonya takes a deep breath. “What does he want?”

“They stopped running the buses,” Krista says, keeping her voice low. “Because the roads are so flooded.” The TV is still going, running a show Krista doesn’t even remember turning on, and Kauri is still on the inside doormat, dripping and cold and wet and in need of somewhere to stay. “He just wants to crash overnight, Sonya. Please.”

“I’m tired of you letting this guy take advantage of you, Kris,” Sonya says, and then just sighs, raking a hand through her hair and getting it caught on the clips, frowning and jerking her fingers back out, leaving her hair all mussed and beautiful. Krista wants to kiss her, but this isn’t the time.

“It’s just one night-”

“It’s never just anything with Kauri Grant, Kris, and you know it. Just one night with Kauri Grant means he’ll eat half the food in our kitchen and you’ll end up washing his clothes for him-”

“He shouldn’t have to pay for laundry!”

“How come he can’t stay at a motel or something?”

“I don’t know, probably he hasn’t been making much money, if it’s raining people don’t go walking around to give-”

“Oh but somehow he always has money for drinks when he calls to see if you want to go out, though? You think I haven’t noticed that?”

Krista sets her jaw, at that. “Sonya. Please don’t do this. You know he almost never has to pay for drinks-”

“Because he’s fucking all the bartenders, Kris!”

“He just needs somewhere to crash for a single fucking night. Come on, Sonya, don’t be-... don’t be like this. He’s my fucking friend. It’s not like I have a lot of those.”

She never curses, and the unusual word coming from her lips pulls Sonya up short from whatever she intended to say next. There’s a silence, and then her girlfriend sighs and pushes the door open a little more. She holds out her arms and Krista steps into them, taking the tight embrace and soaking it up.

On the bed, their black cat Pepperjack looks up, gives a soft chirping meow, and lays his head back down again.

“I’m sorry,” Sonya says, softly. “I know you care about him. I just wish I understood why.”

Because we’re the same, in all the ways that made us. Because he needs to know there are places where he is allowed to stay. Because of a million reasons I can’t tell, secrets I have to keep.

Because he’s a ghost, and he wears the face of someone who died for him to be born.

Just like I wear a dead girl’s face, just like Leila does, like Chris and Antoni and all of us, we’re all walking around in someone else’s discarded body.

And I can’t tell you.

“He’s my friend,” Krista says again, more softly, and kisses Sonya’s cheek. Her girlfriend turns her head to turn it to a kiss on the lips, and Krista relaxes into the soft reassurance that comes with the love in that kiss. “One of my first friends, really. He’s just going through some stuff right now-”

“Baby, you always say he’s going through some stuff. When does he finish going through it and get out on the other side of all that stuff?”

Krista sighs, and nuzzles her way back into another kiss. “I don’t know. But he’ll leave as soon as the buses are running again, I promise, okay?”

Sonya nods, and they rest their foreheads together for a moment, let the softer silence stand. Then Sonya says, quietly, “Okay, baby. Just. I feel like Pepper over there is all the strays we need in our life, you know?”

“I know,” Krista murmurs. “But he’ll have somewhere to go once it stops raining, I promise.”

“Yeah. Well, I’ll start making a list for replacing all the goddamn groceries he’s gonna eat.”

“He doesn’t get much good food out there-”

“Kris. He’s a taker. He uses you. And when he’s here, he uses us. I don’t see why you don’t get that.”

“He’s not-”

“Kris, listen to me. Stop trusting some pretty dude who is just going to get you hurt when he pisses the wrong person off. I know you guys met at the same homeless house or whatever, but he’s going nowhere fast and you can’t let him take you with him.”

“Sonya, stop.”

“Kris-”

“I said stop it.” She pulls back and away, grabbing some of her baggy sweatpants and a t-shirt from the pile of ‘clean’ clothes folded on top of the dresser until she has the energy to put them in the dresser - which is never, Krista delights in being able to be messy in her own home - and carries them out. Sonya stands in the doorway watching her go, and then sighs and goes back to her headset, back to work.

Kauri, still just inside the doorway, is lowering his phone from his ear as Krista comes into view. Nat bought him that phone, so she’d know Kauri was alive the weeks he was gone. Nat bought him the phone, he bought his clothes with panhandling money, his sweatshirt is Dustin’s. The backpack he found abandoned at a bus stop.

Nothing Kauri is wearing, or holding, is really his own.

A little plastic ziplock-style sandwich bag sticks out of his pocket. He had his phone in it to keep it dry, Krista thinks, and wonders how long he’s been wandering around out there in the rain. She hesitantly speaks up. “Here, Kauri, I’ve got towels and some clothes to change into-”

“Don’t worry about it,” Kauri says, softly, and glances up at her before he looks down again. Water drips from his hair onto the phone’s screen and he wipes at it with his finger, squinting. “I’ll be gone in a second.”

“What?” Krista goes still, and realizes that she and Sonya were not as quiet as they thought they were. “What do you mean? It's pouring-”

“I called someone,” Kauri says, flat and sharp, without looking at her. “Gonna walk to that bus stop with the little roof and he’ll come get me. Don’t worry about it.”

“Jake? It’s not- Kauri… it’s not safe for Jake to drive all that way across the city, half the roads are flooding-”

“Not Jake.” Kauri isn’t just not looking at her, he can’t. His face is a little red, splotches on his pale cheeks. Is some of the water on his face tears, now, and not from the rain? “I know someone else who lives near here. He’s coming to get me.”

“Kauri…” Krista closes her eyes, guilt twisting around inside of her that he’d heard. He knows Sonya doesn’t like him, but Kauri is so sensitive to being disliked. She should have pulled Sonya into the bedroom and closed the door. “Who is it?”

Kauri blows air through his nose. “It’s Derrick.”

Krista hitches in a breath in surprise. “Your ex? Kauri, didn’t-... didn’t he threaten you when you broke up?”

Kauri shakes his head, gives her a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “No. I misunderstood him, that’s all. I thought, um, I thought he was angry, but he was just… sad. The whole stupid fight was my fault anyway, and I’ve seen him since and he agreed to be friends. It’s fine. I asked, and he wants me there. I’ll sleep on his couch.”

No, you won’t. We both know you won’t.

“He wants you there,” Krista parrots, plaintively. “Kauri, you don’t have to leave, or anything, I swear. I’ll make you a bed up-”

“It’s fine,” Kauri repeats, and gives her another breezy, airy smile. He sticks his phone back into the little clear bag, closes it up, and shoves it back in his pocket. He slips his soaking-wet shoes back on and Krista winces as she hears the way his feet push water around inside them. “I’m fine, Krista, it’s really not a big deal. Derrick always says I can call him, when I run into him-”

“You’re still seeing him?” Krista licks at her lips. She holds the towels and clothes useless in her arms like a child hugging a teddy bear, feeling guilty and useless. Kauri came here for somewhere safe to stay, and felt unwanted, and now…

“No, but he… we show up at the same places sometimes.”

“... Kauri, is he following you?”

Kauri gives a brittle, bright laugh. “What? No! It’s fine.”

“It’s fine,” Krista repeats, and then says softly, “It’s fine, it’s fine, it’s fine. You… you always say it’s fine. How many times can you say it before you just… admit when it’s not, Kauri?”

Kauri’s smile drops, for a second. His blue eyes meet hers, haunted and sad, making the choice to hurt himself rather than be hurt by anyone else. Kauri Grant is a ghost, she thinks, and very nearly says out loud. You don’t have to haunt us, Kauri. You could have a home.

He takes a deep breath, pulls the hood of his zip-up sweatshirt over his head, where it flops, just as soaked-through as everything else, providing no safety from the rainfall at all. Water drips off of it onto his nose. “I’ll say it as many times as it takes to believe it,” He says, heavily.

“For who to believe it? Us, or you?”

“I’ll catch you later, Krista. No big deal. Thanks for letting me hang out for a minute.”

Krista watches, helpless, as Kauri turns and walks back out into the rain, shoulders hunched. The rain is so thick that he disappears from view before he’s even fully across the parking lot. From a man to a shade of the fog to nothing at all.

Sonya wanders out of the bedroom to find Krista still staring outside, through the open door. “Baby? Where’s your friend?”

“Where’s my friend? He heard us talking.” Krista’s voice is thready trembling. “He found someone else to stay with.”

The ex-boyfriend, who told Kauri he was a ditz and kind of dumb, who told him he was lucky someone put up with how difficult he is, who broke up with him while threatening and scaring him, who… who still let him leave, at least.

So it’s better than where he came from, maybe.

But not by much.

“Oh. So he did have somewhere else to go. Probably he just called his dealer, Krista. Nobody looks that strung out without being on something.”

Krista’s fingers tightened on the cloth she held in her hands until the tension hurt, ached up her arms and to her shoulders. “Sonya, he’s just-... he’s messed up, but he’s not-... he’s not on drugs. He’s just had a hard-... a hard life.”

“Yeah, I mean, a lot of us have. But you always let him take advantage of you, Kris. That’s all. That’s all I worry about. I mean, I’m sure he’s a fine guy, but I’m not on Team Kauri, you know? I’m Team Krista. I worry way more about how you get all weird for a couple days every time he’s here.”

“Sonya-”

“He’ll be fine.”

Krista shakes her head, but repeats, “He’ll be fine,” to settle her own nerves. She realizes belatedly that Kauri’s socks are still balled up on the concrete step outside her door, and she moves forward, closes the door, and does up the locks, leaving them there for now.

Maybe he’ll come back for them.

He probably won’t.

Pepperjack meows softly at her, and she turns to see the black cat winding his way around a leg of the coffee table. Something in his eyes looks… reproachful. Pepper likes curling up with Kauri when he stays over, warm against his back or on his chest, just under his chin.

Krista walks past Sonya to hang the towels back up, puts her clothes back in the clean clothes pile, and curls up on the couch with Pepperjack in her lap and Sonya at her side. Warm, dry, and guilty.

She sent the ghost away - or Sonya did - or she did, by not defending him enough… and still, Krista feels haunted. She pulls her own phone out from the pocket in her pants and texts Jake. He went back to Derrick.

She doesn’t have to say who he is. She sees when Jake reads the message, but he doesn’t send anything back right away. Maybe he’ll call Kauri. Maybe he’ll convince Kauri to go somewhere other than his shit ex-boyfriend’s place. Maybe maybe maybe, but it all relies on Kauri not running away.

It all relies on Kauri. Kauri’s a survivor, she tells herself. They all are. She texts Jake again. I’m sure it’s okay. I’m sure he’ll be fine. I’m sure.

Yeah, is all Jake sends back. She can feel the anger through the inconsequential bloodless single-word response. Anger, fear, and worry.

She closes her eyes.

He’ll be fine. He’s fine.

How many times do they tell each other Kauri is fine, when everyone knows it’s not true?

---

@maybeawhumpblog, @pepperonyscience, @haro-whumps, @18-toe-beans, @burtlederp, @finder-of-rings, @giggly-evil-puppy, @whimpers-and-whumpers, @moose-teeth, @whump-it, @lumpofwhump, @pumpkinthefangirl, @slaintetowhump, @astrobly @whumpiary @whump-tr0pes @raigash @cubeswhump

#whumptober2020 #no. 27 #extreme weather #erase to control #environmental whump #rain whump #trauma recovery #trauma response #recovering whumpee #drug references #alcohol references #Kauri's Poor Life Choices #slut-shaming tw #survivor returning to abuser

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ashintheairlikesnow · 4 years

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Box Boy: Kauri

Credit for the whole concept here to @sweetwhumpandhellacomf, plus thanks to @shameless-whumper for being cool with me utilizing their ideas and characters for this!

And of course my thanks to you, you filthy enablers, for always being here to tell me to write the new worst thing I’ve thought of that day. Thanks to @dr-dendritic-trees and @iaminamoodymoodtoday for name choices!

I’ll just tag people who have been asked to be tagged in other things: @bleeding-demon-teeth, @spiffythespook, @special-spicy-chicken, @finder-of-rings, @whumpywhumper

P.S. I’m working on the dubcon Danny drabble too so I may get that up within the next couple of days!

CW: Implied noncon, intimate whumper,

“Shit, I think that’s a new water bottle. Kauri, hold up, do you think this is a new one?”

Kauri drops into a crouch, tilting his head to look at the laptop set up on Owen’s coffee table. “I’m not sure, Mr. Owen.” Owen’s mouth widens a little further into a smile - he likes when Kauri calls him Mr. Owen, like a term of respect. Kauri had known when he left the box that it could be anything - you call them whatever they want to be called - and it could have been different, harder to say out loud, than something as easy as Mr. Owen. “It looks the same as the one you already have?”

He’d been warned his new owner would not want him to talk, but Owen doesn’t seem to care. He lives by himself in this whole big place - a condo, Kauri thinks, but the word doesn’t always stick, it bounces around and dances out and falls right out one ear if he tries to focus on it for too long. Owen lives alone, and that’s why he got Kauri, for companionship.

For company.

Jesus Christ, like my very own combination Martha Stewart and blow-up doll. Except that’d be the grossest fucking blow-up doll in the world. You’re really pretty, though. Are they all pretty?

I d-don’t know, Mr. Owen. I can’t remember-

I bet they are. I wonder how they get so many pretty people to sign up for this.

“No, this one is definitely new. See? I think he changed the logo, since he got his boy.”

Kauri might hesitate - even tense a little - but Owen doesn’t notice. “Right. So you’ll want to get it, then.” He still has the dustrag in one hand, and he nearly moves to stand, but Owen’s hand slides across the back of his neck to hold him, and Kauri instead shifts easily onto his knees on the floor, sitting on his heels. Position Two.

“I might. I don’t know. Do you think it’s worth it? I mean, I know they’re stainless steel, but he’s charging $24 a bottle.”

“You don’t care about money. Plus, you like watching him, Mr. Owen,” Kauri says, voice quiet. Owen’s hand slides up into his hair, catching in the black curls. When they told him he was going to leave, that he had been selected, he’d been told he was a custom order.

Curly black hair, blue eyes, thin build, not tall enough to be intimidating but tall enough to look good if Owen wanted to take him out. He was lucky he’d fit exactly what the customer was searching for.

He’s lucky.

The Roomba is hard at work across the room, and Kauri kind of likes the little thing - it’s like having a pet of his own - a pet with a pet - especially considering he routinely has to fish it out from under the entertainment center when it gets stuck and starts screaming for help.

Man, when they put the active learning language chip in Roombas, that was a game changer for sure, Owen had said when he introduced Kauri to it. The day he got his name. He’d had a number, before…

645898, wake up.

645898 needs more time.

645898, Position Twenty-Three.

645898, lights out.

Was there a name before the number, even? There’s something on the sheet of paper they’d given to Owen - the contract he’d signed. Kauri wasn’t allowed to see it, it was too distressing for Box Boys to see their contracts. Kauri can’t grip a pen super well - he gets shaky.

It’s considered bad form to let a Box Boy see their old handwriting, because they’ll just get upset about how it doesn’t look the same any longer. But it’s not like Kauri even remembers what it looked like before.

Things must have been really bad, for him to sign himself over, so really he’s grateful he has this opportunity. It’s like a fresh start, and all he has to do is whatever Owen tells him to do - and Owen’s one of the good ones, he thinks. Not that he has a comparison… but Owen is really, really nice compared to what Kauri, as 645898, had worried he’d get.

Owen was really concerned about the ethics, had asked Whumpees-R-Us to provide proof that Kauri - whoever he was, once upon a time - had signed himself over willingly and legally. Kauri was kind of proud that his owner cared so much about it being humane and ethical, because even in just the couple of months he’d been here, he’d seen Owen angrily typing posts out on message boards to owners that weren’t very good to their boys, telling them that you can’t buy real loyalty, real affection, you have to treat the pets right.

Other owners, Owen tells him all the time, are cruel.

He could have been sold to someone vicious or violent, but instead, the worst thing Owen does is make him watch the youtube channel for what must the loudest, most annoying human being on earth.

Not that Kauri knows any other human beings. He only knows Owen.

“Hey.” Kauri blinks, looking up at Owen, who is smiling down at him, the hand still in his hair, fingers running again and again through the curls. “You listening, Kauri?”

“I-I’m sorry, Mr. Owen, I got, um, distracted.”

“By what?”

Kauri’s not supposed to think about anything but now, and he feels himself tense, just a little. Even with Owen, who is nicer than he had any right to hope for, he couldn’t admit that he’d been trying to think again.

You’re an investment. You aren’t made to think. That’s not what I got you for, all right? I don’t mind the talking, I want you to talk. I need someone around me, here, I get pretty fucking lonely. But I don’t want you to think.

“The, um, I was thinking about the way your… the Host got a new boy. That’s all. It’s, um, it’s nice to see other ones.”

It really had been. Owen had watched the videos with Kauri as they uploaded, excited that his favorite, absolute favorite YouTuber had picked one up, too.

Lucky bastard got one for free and I had to pay for mine - but fuck it, that’s what the residuals for all that child acting I got pushed into are for, right? Millionaire before sixteen, cover of magazines, all that bullshit.

Had Kauri ever read a magazine? He couldn’t remember.

“Oh, cool. I was just thinking about that, too. You never watched the collar video with me, did you?”

“Um… n-no, Mr. Owen. Remember, we talked about how the, um, the shock collars make me uncomfortable-”

We have a situation with 645898.

645898, you will get in Position Twenty-Six, now, or you will regret it.

Get someone in here, 645898 threw up again.

“Right, right. But I want you to watch it with me, this time. I don’t like that you haven’t, I really want you to be a completionist on this with me.” Owen smiles at him, and Kauri smiles back, automatically. Owen’s smile is warm and wide, and Kauri’s is small and not quite forced, but it’s there.

It could be much worse. Sometimes Owen rants about how the people with pets hurt them, or burn them, in ways they can’t come back from. All Kauri has to do is take care of Owen, every way he wants taken care of. He’s always kind.

It could be so much worse.

Kauri is so grateful to him for being so kind, for caring so, so much about being principled.

He signed himself over to be what he is now - he can’t remember it, but he knows it happened - and part of the risk you take is that you might get one of the owners who needs more than standard care.

Owen pulls Kauri up by one arm, and he moves quickly, unfolding himself and then climbing up onto the couch, sitting with his legs across Owen’s lap and his arms around his shoulders, head tucked into the crook of his neck and turned to look down at the laptop, just the way Owen likes.

Across the room, the Roomba gets briefly trapped underneath a rocking chair, and screams three times - HELP, KAURI HELP, KAURI HELP, KAURI - before it gets itself back out and goes back to work.

There’s a part of Kauri that remembers screaming for help, but he’s not sure when he did it, or why.

Owen finds the video he wants and presses play, sliding his arm around behind Kauri’s back.

Sometimes he thinks he hates that Owen touches him so much, but he can’t think of why he’d hate it, and he puts that hatred away in the dark somewhere else until he can’t find it again. It could be worse. Owen only hurt him sometimes, and then mostly only in ways you couldn’t see.

It could be so much worse.

Kauri watches the Host’s boy, with a hint of familiarity making him feel restless and uncertain. He knows the expressions too well - he probably has a few of them himself. The slight smile and tilt of the head things you don’t have on your own, they’re given to you, trained in. Like the positions, only your owners don’t get to know what the expressions are called.

“Now, see, you already have that one,” Owen says, his voice a low rumble against the side of Kauri’s ear, as he points at the Host’s boy trying on a plain brown leather collar. Kauri swallows hard as he watches the host tighten, and tighten and tighten it.

Then complain that it doesn’t tighten enough.

“Yeah, I didn’t like that one, either,” Owen murmurs, as though he hasn’t watched this video a thousand times already. “Here, look, look at this one - the chain link one.”

Kauri looks, obediently, and tries not to think about the heavy metal weight around his own throat. His didn’t come from the same place - Owen had custom-ordered his collar from a jewelry store and it cost nearly as much as he did, a heavy weighted white gold chain set with dark blue stones that matched the color of his eyes, with his name on a little tag that hung off a small gold ring on the front, Owen’s contact details on the other side.

Look, I’m never letting you out of my sight, you’re a big investment piece and I’m not going to lose all this money. But still. Just in case you get lost, buddy, this will help the cops know how to bring you back home to me.

It unlocks with some kind of key, but Kauri’s never seen the key - he only felt the lock click into place when Owen put it on him, and it’s never come off again.

Kauri’s muscles lock when the Host and his boy try the shock collar - he remembers those, he thinks, the training for those went on and on and blurs together in his mind. 645898, you signed up for this, this was your decision. You legally consented to everything that happens in this building, and you know it.

645898, you are being very disappointing today.

“You okay, Kauri?” Owen murmurs, turning to press a kiss into the top of his head, tightening the arm that goes around his back. Kauri tries to curl himself up on Owen’s lap even further, because that is what he wants him to do, and if he doesn’t have to be commanded sometimes he can sort of fool himself that he wants it, too.

On the screen, the Host’s boy is wearing a collar with small metal prongs that press hard into his neck. “It hurts,” The Host’s boy says, in a stiff voice, every inch of his posture rigid with pain.

Someone get 687371 out of here, he’s causing a scene

Shit, someone get 645898 out of the way, 687371 is having a moment again

687371, lights fucking out for you

The Host pulled on a chain attached to the pronged collar, on the screen, and the boy’s hands snapped up to grab the leash. “Don’t-”

Don’t-… let go of me! Let go! Get your fucking hands off me!

The scene cut to something else.

Kauri froze, staring sightlessly, until Owen finally noticed the tension in him and shifted forward to turn off the video. “Hey, was that too much?” His voice was low, and compassionate.

“I know him,” Kauri whispered, lips barely moving.

“What? Yeah, you’ve seen the other videos with Colton in them, remember?” Owen reached up to take Kauri by the chin, tilting it up to look right at him, to look into his eyes. “What do you mean, you know him?”

“I saw him in training. We were in training together,” Kauri says softly, and it never occurs to him to lie. There are things he lies to Owen about - what he’s thinking, the way he hates how Owen eats spaghetti with about a pound of grated parmesan on it, that he drinks terrible coffee and someone with so much money should at least have better taste than that - but now, in this moment, he doesn’t lie.

He doesn’t have to.

“Shit, really?” Owen’s eyes light up, and he pushes Kauri roughly off of him, nearly knocking him to the ground until he catches himself on the coffee table. “Fuck, that’s great! That’s really great, Kauri! That’s awesome!”

“It… it is?” Kauri stands, warily, but Owen doesn’t tell him not to or order him into any positions.

“Sure! Yes! It gives me an in, Kor-bore, I’ve wanted an in since I started watching this guy. Look, he’s got contact info linked in the video description, maybe I can just… you said you know his boy?”

“I don’t… I’m sorry, I meant that I recognized-”

“No, I get it, you’re not supposed to say you knew each other.”

“We didn’t.” Kauri hesitates, shifting from foot to foot, glancing down at the screen where Owen has paused the video, opened up his email, begun rapidly typing. “We didn’t know each other. There were… faces.”

Let go of me! Please!

“Right, right.” Owen waves one hand. “Here, I’m going to ask if he’d be up for playdates or some shit. I’ll just… I’ll just add in here that I was an actor, that I was in… do you think he’ll remember Swing for the Stars or Toast better? Those were my two really big blockbusters.”

“I, um… Mr. Owen, I don’t-”

“Oh, right, because you don’t remember movies anymore. Got it. I’ll just list ‘em both. Oh, and add Dimmer Switch, that kind of horror didn’t play so well here but it’s kind of a cult movie now and it did fucknuts well overseas… Let’s see what he says.” Owen shoots a smile at him, truly pleased, and Kauri’s shoulders relax, instinctively, automatically.

There’s a pause while Owen finishes his email and sends it.

“Hey, Kor-Bore.”

“Yes, Mr. Owen?” Kauri, already heading back to the bookshelves full of movies to dust, pauses, and looks back. Owen watches him with a look Kauri knows too well, and he swallows against the instinctive sickness that settles into the pit of his stomach, the thing he can’t quite get rid of. The collar sits heavy around his neck, and he thinks, once again, that he’s not sure when he signed that paper that he knew he was signing up for this.

“I know you’re busy cleaning, but let’s take a break, yeah?”

Kauri swallows, and slowly nods, setting the dustrag down on the bookshelf. He turns around, fingertips going to the buttons on his shirt, and waits, his blue eyes settling on Owen’s, thoughtful and empty.

“Position Twenty-Six.”

Kauri’s hands drop from his shirt. “T-Twenty-Six, Mr. Owen?”

“You heard me. You don’t have to deal with the buttons, Kauri, I can handle that.”

“Yes, Mr. Owen.” Kauri shifts onto his knees on the floor, in the middle of Owen’s living room, and slides his arms behind his back, knees spread apart digging into the fibers of the carpet beneath him, and tilts his head back so he’s looking up at the cool brown wood of the ceiling fan, neck exposed.

He doesn’t tense up when Owen’s fingers start undoing the buttons on his shirt.

Owen told him all the time - some owners really hurt their Box Boys. And whatever he had come from - whatever life he’d been living that led him to sign himself over - must have been really, really terrible.

He’s really very lucky.

There won’t even be bruises when Owen is done.

645898, do you know how fortunate you are?

It could have been so much worse for you.

In the corner, the Roomba starts screaming again. Owen throws a shoe at it to shut it up as he gets to his feet but his shoe thumps into the wall instead, and Kauri keeps his eyes focused on the ceiling until the clockwork motion of the ceiling fan is all that he can see.

HELP, KAURI

HELP

KAURI

#whump #box boy #conditioned #youtuber whump #universe #whumpees-r-us universe #shameless-whumper #sweetwhumpandhellacomf #brainwashed #intimate whumper #creepy whumper #brainwashed whumpee #dehumanization #tw: implied noncon #implied noncon #erase to control

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