sued into submission 🌷 tracob

7

Troye Sivan

In-house Mr Bixenman is different.

He's strict, almost domestic. Almost. He's far too professional even in his own home to be domestic. He set rules. Rules. Awfully generous ones. Eat until you're sick, sleep until you're dazed, shower until you feel brand new. It was both a different side of him and the same one I've worked for for years.

He still hasn't set the terms of my stay, which only makes me nervous and fidgety every time I see him. Which has only been twice in the past two days I've been here. He's never here, as expected. He's always off at work just like he used to be. I used to be alongside him. 

It's practically suicide to ever ask for my job back so I just sit tight and enjoy my stay while I have it. 

I didn't understand the catch until I stepped out of the guest washroom later that afternoon in just a towel, expecting to be alone in the house only to find Mr Bixenman in the flesh right in front of me. Jumping back in surprise, I pull the towel up my body, covering my chest. 

"Uh- hi," I mutter, shaking off the shock and stepping forward. 

I walk over to the drawer and pick out another button up and pair of trousers, that being the only thing stored away in the drawer. 

"I scared you... why?" He asks, stepping back and sitting down at the foot of the bed. 

I glance up at him in the mirror, "I just wasn't expecting you is all."

"It's the afternoon, you're usually at work." I add, pushing the drawer shut and setting the clothes on top of it, turning around to the bloke. 

He shrugs, "Was thinking about you. Couldn't concentrate."

"Me?" I ask almost in defence, oddly enough. But why me? That is ridiculous.

"Mhm, don't act so surprised."

I shake my head and lean against the dresser, staring at him in disbelief. 

"Oh, come on Sivan." ... "Don't act as if I haven't seen the way you look at me... Better yet don't act like you haven't seen the way I look at you."

Cursing my cheeks for immediately flushing, I look down and avoid eye-contact. 

"You look at everyone like that. Like prey." I mutter.

Mr Bixenman sighs, "Yeah, but you don't."

"I don't have the power nor right to- why does this matter?" I question, looking up at him with those sickeningly defensive eyes I try my best to never show. It's weakness; the way my pupils dilate and eyes water, obviously holding back the emotion that always follows defence... Despair. 

Or so I thought.

"I've been thinking... and it's about time I inform you of the terms of your stay." He finally speaks up. Finally... the catch. 

I swallow down all emotion and sit down on the freshly polished floor, ready for the worst.

"Go on," I murmur.

 "Sex."

I sputter and my eyes about pop out of my head, "Excuse me?"

His calm, relaxed face stays neutral as if he were expecting this reaction.

"Well not strictly sex, just sexual favours. What I desire, you give, and for that, you can stay here until you get back on your feet." He speaks simply as if it were just another offer on any other day. As if I were a client on a case. For fuck's sake, as if I were his own bloody grandmother. 

"Have you gone mad?!" I exclaim, giving him the most bizarre and shaken look I've ever masked upon my face. 

He blinks with a blank expression, shaking his head no. 

"That's- Jacob- I mean Mr Bixenman- ugh! Whatever the fuck! I-"

He rolls his eyes, "Come on."

"Don't act as if I haven't been in your head, Troye. I know you. You might not admit it to yourself yet but you want me too. You know you do, I know you do. You want me." His words bounce around my head, the words scrambling all around, making my heart pound in my ears. "You want me."

"That's awfully cocky, don't you think?" I retort, hesitating my every thought and action in that moment. The judgement is subsiding and what's to be revealed is right around the corner; it scares me. 

"But it's true, isn't it?"

-

a/n: abrupt ending because you're a tired pup who??? don't know her.

i shall see you s**n, nighty night munchkins xx