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Noah II
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Noah knelt on the floor, in the spot he'd been left, completely alone. After another minute or two of this, he settled back into a sitting position and took a moment to review his situation - and his surroundings.
This was, as he'd been telling himself ever since the woman walked out the door the first time, not what he had expected. What he hadexpected was being bought by a nice, well-off woman looking for a good deal on a well-trained sub, complete with a nice house and clothing and - hopefully - all the extras that came from being somebody's pampered pet.
What he'd got... Noah looked around the room. It was the living room of a flat - judging from having been taken up an elevator to get here, at least - and while it wasn't as high-end as he'd hoped, it was nice enough. A big TV and entertainment system, nice leather couch, matching armchairs, comfortable carpet on hardwood floors, a decorative tree in the corner that looked real, some tasteful but minimal decoration. Lots of near-black and off-white. And there was a guest room, so it was at least a two-bedroom.
It was definitely good enough, as far as Noah's needs went. The only problem was Simon.
Not that Noahhad a problem with Simon. He'd been expecting a woman but the possibility of being bought by a man had been something he'd accounted for. Being given to a man or a woman who didn't want him, on the other hand...
He couldn't be returned, not so soon after being bought. It would be a giant black mark on his record, making all of his carefully earned high marks during training completely useless. Forget a nice cushy home with a wealthy lady. But Simon had made it perfectly clear he'd shove Noah back at the shop at the drop of a hat - and Noah doubted he'd think to explain the situation, which left him with metaphorical mud on his face.
The conclusion of all this, Noah decided, was to do something entirely un-sub-like and convince Simon to keep him. Not forever; just long enough to make it look like a reasonable temporary ownership, then Simon could sell him back with good references. A year would be ideal.
Noah looked around the living room again. Yeah, he could handle living here for a year. He could probably even handle Simon for a year. Maybe. Hopefully.
He slowly stood, stretching out his stiff legs, and tried to come up with a plan of attack. None of his training had prepared him for arguing with his Master, and none of his old life was much use for it either. He was going to have to wing it.
Taking a deep breath, Noah followed Simon into the kitchen.
The latter was slicing up some onion, a frozen pizza next to him that had already been adorned with some fresh sliced mushrooms, olives and something that was probably pepperoni. There was a gift bag and card on the opposite end of the counter, too, but those were none of Noah's business.
Simon glanced up at him for a moment as he walked in, then turned his attention back to the onion. "What you're wearing, that's everything you own, right?"
Noah hesitated, weighing the choice between being a good sub and playing to Simon's dislike for the whole thing. "Um... yes. Although technically it's yours now, sir."
Simon gave a noncommittal grunt and sprinkled onion over the pizza.
After watching a moment, Noah cleared his throat. Now or never. "May I be completely honest with you?"
Simon stopped mid-gesture and looked up, frowning. "Of course."
"I know you don't like this whole situation," Noah began with much more confidence than he felt. "But it would look really badly for me if you returned me, especially so soon."
"It would?" Simon returned his attention to the pizza. "Why?"
"They'll assume I was the problem. I'll wind up taking a price cut--" Noah broke off quickly as Simon's frown deepened into a scowl. "I mean, it'll be a lot harder for me to find a good home. If you let me stay..." He took a deep breath. "I don't have to act like a sub, if that's what you want. I can pretend to just be a roommate, or a housekeeper, or a... well, anything else. Please?" To his chagrin, Noah realized his attempt at making an offer had sounded more like begging. (Well, he was.)
Simon didn't reply for a few minutes, rearranging the toppings on the pizza and sliding it into the oven, then setting a timer and sitting down on a stool by the counter. Noah tried not to fidget nervously as his erstwhile Master still didn't reply, instead staring at the gift bag with a frown that might have been thoughtful but might also have just been annoyed.
Finally, Noah cleared his throat again. "Sir--"
"I'm thinking about it," Simon grumbled. "Give me a few, okay?"
"Yes M-- sir, sorry."
next
Noah knelt on the floor, in the spot he'd been left, completely alone. After another minute or two of this, he settled back into a sitting position and took a moment to review his situation - and his surroundings.
This was, as he'd been telling himself ever since the woman walked out the door the first time, not what he had expected. What he hadexpected was being bought by a nice, well-off woman looking for a good deal on a well-trained sub, complete with a nice house and clothing and - hopefully - all the extras that came from being somebody's pampered pet.
What he'd got... Noah looked around the room. It was the living room of a flat - judging from having been taken up an elevator to get here, at least - and while it wasn't as high-end as he'd hoped, it was nice enough. A big TV and entertainment system, nice leather couch, matching armchairs, comfortable carpet on hardwood floors, a decorative tree in the corner that looked real, some tasteful but minimal decoration. Lots of near-black and off-white. And there was a guest room, so it was at least a two-bedroom.
It was definitely good enough, as far as Noah's needs went. The only problem was Simon.
Not that Noahhad a problem with Simon. He'd been expecting a woman but the possibility of being bought by a man had been something he'd accounted for. Being given to a man or a woman who didn't want him, on the other hand...
He couldn't be returned, not so soon after being bought. It would be a giant black mark on his record, making all of his carefully earned high marks during training completely useless. Forget a nice cushy home with a wealthy lady. But Simon had made it perfectly clear he'd shove Noah back at the shop at the drop of a hat - and Noah doubted he'd think to explain the situation, which left him with metaphorical mud on his face.
The conclusion of all this, Noah decided, was to do something entirely un-sub-like and convince Simon to keep him. Not forever; just long enough to make it look like a reasonable temporary ownership, then Simon could sell him back with good references. A year would be ideal.
Noah looked around the living room again. Yeah, he could handle living here for a year. He could probably even handle Simon for a year. Maybe. Hopefully.
He slowly stood, stretching out his stiff legs, and tried to come up with a plan of attack. None of his training had prepared him for arguing with his Master, and none of his old life was much use for it either. He was going to have to wing it.
Taking a deep breath, Noah followed Simon into the kitchen.
The latter was slicing up some onion, a frozen pizza next to him that had already been adorned with some fresh sliced mushrooms, olives and something that was probably pepperoni. There was a gift bag and card on the opposite end of the counter, too, but those were none of Noah's business.
Simon glanced up at him for a moment as he walked in, then turned his attention back to the onion. "What you're wearing, that's everything you own, right?"
Noah hesitated, weighing the choice between being a good sub and playing to Simon's dislike for the whole thing. "Um... yes. Although technically it's yours now, sir."
Simon gave a noncommittal grunt and sprinkled onion over the pizza.
After watching a moment, Noah cleared his throat. Now or never. "May I be completely honest with you?"
Simon stopped mid-gesture and looked up, frowning. "Of course."
"I know you don't like this whole situation," Noah began with much more confidence than he felt. "But it would look really badly for me if you returned me, especially so soon."
"It would?" Simon returned his attention to the pizza. "Why?"
"They'll assume I was the problem. I'll wind up taking a price cut--" Noah broke off quickly as Simon's frown deepened into a scowl. "I mean, it'll be a lot harder for me to find a good home. If you let me stay..." He took a deep breath. "I don't have to act like a sub, if that's what you want. I can pretend to just be a roommate, or a housekeeper, or a... well, anything else. Please?" To his chagrin, Noah realized his attempt at making an offer had sounded more like begging. (Well, he was.)
Simon didn't reply for a few minutes, rearranging the toppings on the pizza and sliding it into the oven, then setting a timer and sitting down on a stool by the counter. Noah tried not to fidget nervously as his erstwhile Master still didn't reply, instead staring at the gift bag with a frown that might have been thoughtful but might also have just been annoyed.
Finally, Noah cleared his throat again. "Sir--"
"I'm thinking about it," Simon grumbled. "Give me a few, okay?"
"Yes M-- sir, sorry."
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