[There was a point in time when Bucky would have refused to purchase a bonded and nobody could have swayed his decision. He's in his thirties, older than the majority to buy a slave for the first time, and his choice to follow through is almost a political move. Work, business, it's what the bosses want. Bucky's employers send him out on missions, he goes home, has a few months off, and then he goes out again. It's a routine he doesn't mind. There's nobody waiting for him back in his two bedroom apartment in the north side of Brooklyn, but it's a good life.
But Bucky got in over his head on one of his last missions. Too deep. Now he's the only operative that his agency has that can go back in. Only problem is that he needs to take his bonded with him. A bonded that he doesn't have. And if he gets one, it's for life.
The issue, for Bucky, surrounding the whole body slave movement is basic human rights. They're people. They shouldn't be sold and bought and kept. He has friends who've purchased a bonded simply to give a person a good home, something he should have done and had the means to do, but never could quite get up the nerve. The slaves were all brainwashed into behaving a certain way. Once he had a bonded in his home, he had to be careful. Anything he said or did could get out. But there was a social standing that one would have once they had a body slave. It meant you were connected enough to get a seat during auction days and wealthy enough to care for a bonded.
He couldn't say no to the mission. So that left him only way option.
The actual purchase is quick. He'd browsed the files before showing up at the warehouse. Had a small list of potential slaves. If he was going to do this, he was doing it his way. He'd pick someone useful. Earn their trust and loyalty, and then he'd let them live the life they wanted. As much as they could given the laws set in place. He picks unnamed #2039944, pays the fees, and takes him home. The man is walking behind him, slightly to his left side, as he shows him around the apartment.]
The rules are simple here. When we're in the apartment, you can do what you want. Use the exercise equipment in the spare bedroom. Eat anything in the fridge or cabinets, just put it on the list if you use the last of something. [He gestures down the hall.] Watch the tv. I'd give you the spare room but that's not safe.
Never know when someone might show up to make sure we're not breaking any rules.
[He turns to look at the man.]
I picked you because you're strong. What name do you go by and do you have any questions?
[Clint has been training for this most of his life. He's on the old side to be sold for the first time, largely because he's stubborn enough to need to be taught some lessons twice, or more. It had started to be something of a joke at the training center that Clint was a lifer. Even after he finally went up for sale, his age made him a difficult sell.
Nobody was more surprised than Clint when he finally got purchased.
As he follows his new master around the apartment, Clint's gaze darts quickly over the space, taking in as many details as possible about how Bucky keeps things, how he prefers his home to be. The more Bucky says, though, the less Clint can pay attention to those details because this is...not at all what he'd been prepared for.
He's wary, and while he hides it well, there are still tells: tensing his shoulders, clenching his jaw.]
Clint. And yeah, I got a few questions. [He pauses for a beat.] Sir.
[He draws back slightly, like he expects to be hit but doesn't want to flinch.]
[Bucky was more comfortable with Clint's age over the usual average that body slaves tended to be. Young, very young, so that they could stay with their masters and mistresses longer. He didn't want a child in his house that would expect certain behaviors from him. This was better. It suited him.
Clenched jaw, tense shoulders. He needed to be careful.]
Take a seat, Clint.
[He moves to the island in the kitchen, pulling out a chair for himself. Bucky waves to one across from him. Distance so that Clint doesn't feel threatened.]
Before you start, call me Bucky. When we're at home.
[Out in public would be different, they'd have to follow the rules, but in this apartment, they got to decide.]
[When Bucky doesn't hit him, Clint relaxes slightly. Still on edge, but not immediately skittish. Just because it didn't happen this time, doesn't mean it won't happen later. That was a fairly minor slip-up.
He keeps his eyes on Bucky as he moves to take the indicated seat, sitting straight-backed, posture drilled into him from his training. He's definitely not going to be calling him Bucky any time soon.
It takes him a moment to respond after he sits. He wants to choose his words carefully, but he also wants a straight answer, and he can't quite figure out how Bucky is likely to respond. Eventually, he decides it's best to know now what kind of master Bucky is going to be.]
What's your deal?
[There's no pulling back this time. If Bucky hits him for that...well, he knew it would be coming.]
[Now, he realizes how that sounds and knows it's best to elaborate. He doesn't want this to start off on the wrong foot.] A body slave, I mean. Any body slave.
People aren't property.
[Trusting Clint to keep what Bucky says to himself is a risk but one he has to take. If anything, his word would be believed over Clint's. He just hoped it never came to that.]
But the people I work for have me going on an assignment soon where I have to rub elbows with the rich and powerful. Having a body slave gives me credibility. You're likely to be older than most of the other slaves there and you'll stand out for it.
[There's a pause and he meets Clint's eyes.]
Which means I'll train you before we go. [He exhales and folds his arms over his chest.] I also need you to make me a promise. You'll never initiate or accept sex, with me, for any reason unless it's something you really want. Got it?
[Clint's eyebrows shoot upward right off. If he were to rank the things he expected Bucky to say just then, "I didn't want you," wouldn't have been at the bottom of the list, but it would have been close. As Bucky continues, Clint's eyebrows drop, and so do the corners of his mouth.
Jesus Christ, what kind of mess did he get himself into?
His instinct is to cross his arms, but he forces himself not to. This is not the time to go on the defensive. By the time Bucky gets to the sex, Clint almost isn't surprised. Almost.]
So, wait. [He holds up a finger in a 'wait a minute' gesture.] You bought a body slave for...for work. And you don't even want to fuck me?
[He's not even sure how to feel about that. It was a possibility that had never entered his head going into this.]
[Clint was attractive. Bucky wasn't blind. But he didn't want to sleep with someone that didn't want him back.]
There's a chance we might have express that we find each other appealing. I picked you so I wouldn't have to lie about that.
But it doesn't change what I've just said.
[Telling some rich asshole that he thinks his body slave is hot isn't the same as fucking them when they weren't into it. He sighs and rests his hands on the table. This wasn't going the way he wanted it to. He needed Clint to give him something to work with. Any kind of reaction or understanding, hell even rules of his own.]
[Clint is still struggling to wrap his head around any of what Bucky said. It's gonna be a moment before he can figure out what his rules might be.
It smoothes his ego a little that Bucky isn't repulsed by him, but the rest of it involves him reconstructing everything he thought his life would be.]
Okay. I mean...yeah, okay. [In the end, he's supposed to do what his master says, and if this is what Bucky wants from him, that's what he'll get.
And if he's a little disappointed at the idea of never actually having sex again, he hides it fairly well.]
You want arm candy that can take care of itself. I can do that.
[Bucky pauses and narrows his eyes, looking for any indication that Clint's displeased with the rules. Good or bad, he can't tell. He sighs and stands up, moving to the fridge to grab a few bottles of coke for them both. He slides one ever and sits back down.]
This is forever. I want us to figure out how to make it work. I won't return you. [He knows what that does to a body slave.] So we have to work this out.
[It'll take time but Bucky was confident that they could at least come out of this as friends. Clint would always have that other bedroom, he'd never be sent back, and Bucky wouldn't ask him to do anything that he wouldn't do himself.]
[Not displeased, no, but he definitely looks confused, his brow furrowed, watching Bucky warily, on the lookout for any signs of displeasure in him. The reassurance that Clint won't be returned does nothing to actually reassure him. Bucky can say anything. It's not like someone's going to hold him to it.
He takes the bottle but doesn't open it, rolling it between his palms instead, feeling the cold against his hands.]
I...I don't know what you want to work out, sir.
[Bucky makes the rules. That's how all this works. Bucky makes the rules, and Clint follows them. Why are they still talking about this?]
[This wasn't going to be easy, he knew that. It was already complicated. Clint didn't trust him and he didn't blame him for not wanting to speak his mind with the person who just purchased him to be a body slave.] Let's start small.
[Yeah, that might be best for now. Bucky could prove that he would honor Clint's rules and build up to more meaningful guidelines.]
Tell me something that you want to have happen and it'll happen. Nobody comes in your room. The left side of the couch is yours only.
[First of all, the idea that he would have a room is...ludicrous. Secondly, what the hell kind of owner lets their slave have a space they're not allowed in?
On the other hand, a rule like this could give him a better idea of who Bucky is. He doesn't actually think Bucky will follow whatever rule Clint gives him, so what could it hurt?
Also, he doesn't care where he sits on the couch, so this one seems like a better choice.]
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no subject
But Bucky got in over his head on one of his last missions. Too deep. Now he's the only operative that his agency has that can go back in. Only problem is that he needs to take his bonded with him. A bonded that he doesn't have. And if he gets one, it's for life.
The issue, for Bucky, surrounding the whole body slave movement is basic human rights. They're people. They shouldn't be sold and bought and kept. He has friends who've purchased a bonded simply to give a person a good home, something he should have done and had the means to do, but never could quite get up the nerve. The slaves were all brainwashed into behaving a certain way. Once he had a bonded in his home, he had to be careful. Anything he said or did could get out. But there was a social standing that one would have once they had a body slave. It meant you were connected enough to get a seat during auction days and wealthy enough to care for a bonded.
He couldn't say no to the mission. So that left him only way option.
The actual purchase is quick. He'd browsed the files before showing up at the warehouse. Had a small list of potential slaves. If he was going to do this, he was doing it his way. He'd pick someone useful. Earn their trust and loyalty, and then he'd let them live the life they wanted. As much as they could given the laws set in place. He picks unnamed #2039944, pays the fees, and takes him home. The man is walking behind him, slightly to his left side, as he shows him around the apartment.]
The rules are simple here. When we're in the apartment, you can do what you want. Use the exercise equipment in the spare bedroom. Eat anything in the fridge or cabinets, just put it on the list if you use the last of something. [He gestures down the hall.] Watch the tv. I'd give you the spare room but that's not safe.
Never know when someone might show up to make sure we're not breaking any rules.
[He turns to look at the man.]
I picked you because you're strong. What name do you go by and do you have any questions?
no subject
Nobody was more surprised than Clint when he finally got purchased.
As he follows his new master around the apartment, Clint's gaze darts quickly over the space, taking in as many details as possible about how Bucky keeps things, how he prefers his home to be. The more Bucky says, though, the less Clint can pay attention to those details because this is...not at all what he'd been prepared for.
He's wary, and while he hides it well, there are still tells: tensing his shoulders, clenching his jaw.]
Clint. And yeah, I got a few questions. [He pauses for a beat.] Sir.
[He draws back slightly, like he expects to be hit but doesn't want to flinch.]
no subject
Clenched jaw, tense shoulders. He needed to be careful.]
Take a seat, Clint.
[He moves to the island in the kitchen, pulling out a chair for himself. Bucky waves to one across from him. Distance so that Clint doesn't feel threatened.]
Before you start, call me Bucky. When we're at home.
[Out in public would be different, they'd have to follow the rules, but in this apartment, they got to decide.]
Now shoot.
no subject
He keeps his eyes on Bucky as he moves to take the indicated seat, sitting straight-backed, posture drilled into him from his training. He's definitely not going to be calling him Bucky any time soon.
It takes him a moment to respond after he sits. He wants to choose his words carefully, but he also wants a straight answer, and he can't quite figure out how Bucky is likely to respond. Eventually, he decides it's best to know now what kind of master Bucky is going to be.]
What's your deal?
[There's no pulling back this time. If Bucky hits him for that...well, he knew it would be coming.]
no subject
[Now, he realizes how that sounds and knows it's best to elaborate. He doesn't want this to start off on the wrong foot.] A body slave, I mean. Any body slave.
People aren't property.
[Trusting Clint to keep what Bucky says to himself is a risk but one he has to take. If anything, his word would be believed over Clint's. He just hoped it never came to that.]
But the people I work for have me going on an assignment soon where I have to rub elbows with the rich and powerful. Having a body slave gives me credibility. You're likely to be older than most of the other slaves there and you'll stand out for it.
[There's a pause and he meets Clint's eyes.]
Which means I'll train you before we go. [He exhales and folds his arms over his chest.] I also need you to make me a promise. You'll never initiate or accept sex, with me, for any reason unless it's something you really want. Got it?
no subject
Jesus Christ, what kind of mess did he get himself into?
His instinct is to cross his arms, but he forces himself not to. This is not the time to go on the defensive. By the time Bucky gets to the sex, Clint almost isn't surprised. Almost.]
So, wait. [He holds up a finger in a 'wait a minute' gesture.] You bought a body slave for...for work. And you don't even want to fuck me?
[He's not even sure how to feel about that. It was a possibility that had never entered his head going into this.]
no subject
[Clint was attractive. Bucky wasn't blind. But he didn't want to sleep with someone that didn't want him back.]
There's a chance we might have express that we find each other appealing. I picked you so I wouldn't have to lie about that.
But it doesn't change what I've just said.
[Telling some rich asshole that he thinks his body slave is hot isn't the same as fucking them when they weren't into it. He sighs and rests his hands on the table. This wasn't going the way he wanted it to. He needed Clint to give him something to work with. Any kind of reaction or understanding, hell even rules of his own.]
Okay?
no subject
It smoothes his ego a little that Bucky isn't repulsed by him, but the rest of it involves him reconstructing everything he thought his life would be.]
Okay. I mean...yeah, okay. [In the end, he's supposed to do what his master says, and if this is what Bucky wants from him, that's what he'll get.
And if he's a little disappointed at the idea of never actually having sex again, he hides it fairly well.]
You want arm candy that can take care of itself. I can do that.
no subject
[Bucky pauses and narrows his eyes, looking for any indication that Clint's displeased with the rules. Good or bad, he can't tell. He sighs and stands up, moving to the fridge to grab a few bottles of coke for them both. He slides one ever and sits back down.]
This is forever. I want us to figure out how to make it work. I won't return you. [He knows what that does to a body slave.] So we have to work this out.
[It'll take time but Bucky was confident that they could at least come out of this as friends. Clint would always have that other bedroom, he'd never be sent back, and Bucky wouldn't ask him to do anything that he wouldn't do himself.]
Talk to me.
no subject
He takes the bottle but doesn't open it, rolling it between his palms instead, feeling the cold against his hands.]
I...I don't know what you want to work out, sir.
[Bucky makes the rules. That's how all this works. Bucky makes the rules, and Clint follows them. Why are they still talking about this?]
no subject
[This wasn't going to be easy, he knew that. It was already complicated. Clint didn't trust him and he didn't blame him for not wanting to speak his mind with the person who just purchased him to be a body slave.] Let's start small.
[Yeah, that might be best for now. Bucky could prove that he would honor Clint's rules and build up to more meaningful guidelines.]
Tell me something that you want to have happen and it'll happen. Nobody comes in your room. The left side of the couch is yours only.
no subject
[First of all, the idea that he would have a room is...ludicrous. Secondly, what the hell kind of owner lets their slave have a space they're not allowed in?
On the other hand, a rule like this could give him a better idea of who Bucky is. He doesn't actually think Bucky will follow whatever rule Clint gives him, so what could it hurt?
Also, he doesn't care where he sits on the couch, so this one seems like a better choice.]
Yeah, okay. Let's do that one.
no subject
[He shrugs. It was a risk they'd have to take given the way society was.]
But I won't go in and if I can help it, neither will anyone else.
[Bucky raises an eyebrow.]
No, we'll do that. But now you pick one of your own.
no subject
You want another rule?
[Having a space that is only his is...huge. He can't really imagine what else he'd ask for.]
Books. [He blurts it out, like he hadn't meant to.] Can I...can I have books?