Post by wordy on Mar 10, 2011 14:13:24 GMT 10
Title: B is for Browbeat
Rating: PG
Word Count: 278
Pairing: Jon/Zahir – Team Bend-a-lot
Round/Fight: 1A
Summary: (vt) to intimidate with threats, to bully.
“Someone’s moving up in the world,” says Joren slyly. Either he doesn’t notice the way that Zahir’s back tenses at his voice or he chooses to ignore it. Zahir counts to ten before answering.
“I don’t remember inviting you into my room. Go away; I’m trying to pack.”
He doesn’t need to look behind him to know that Joren is still standing there. His knuckles are almost burning with the desire to turn around and wipe the sneer off of the other boy’s pale face, but somehow he controls himself and just hunches his back and continues to pack.
“So you’re going to be the king’s pet, are you? How did you manage that?” Zahir listens to his footsteps move around the room. “The best offer I got was Nond, the old bastard.”
Before he even realises what he’s doing, Zahir is standing up and has his hand around Joren’s throat. He can almost hear his heartbeat pounding in his ears, and he gives the other boy’s throat an experimental squeeze, his thumb pressing into his windpipe. Joren’s eyes are wide with shock; Zahir almost laughs.
It would be so cathartic to just close his fist and cut off Joren’s air, but Zahir isn’t prepared to deal with all the mess that killing his yearmate would involve. So instead he looks him in the eye and says quietly, “I am no one’s pet. I don’t want to see you ever again.” He shoves Joren away from him and the blond boy stumbles, looking up at him with shock and growing anger.
Zahir looks down his nose at him, feeling debased for ever calling Joren ‘friend’. “You’re beneath me.”
QC by: journeycat
Rating: PG
Word Count: 278
Pairing: Jon/Zahir – Team Bend-a-lot
Round/Fight: 1A
Summary: (vt) to intimidate with threats, to bully.
“Someone’s moving up in the world,” says Joren slyly. Either he doesn’t notice the way that Zahir’s back tenses at his voice or he chooses to ignore it. Zahir counts to ten before answering.
“I don’t remember inviting you into my room. Go away; I’m trying to pack.”
He doesn’t need to look behind him to know that Joren is still standing there. His knuckles are almost burning with the desire to turn around and wipe the sneer off of the other boy’s pale face, but somehow he controls himself and just hunches his back and continues to pack.
“So you’re going to be the king’s pet, are you? How did you manage that?” Zahir listens to his footsteps move around the room. “The best offer I got was Nond, the old bastard.”
Before he even realises what he’s doing, Zahir is standing up and has his hand around Joren’s throat. He can almost hear his heartbeat pounding in his ears, and he gives the other boy’s throat an experimental squeeze, his thumb pressing into his windpipe. Joren’s eyes are wide with shock; Zahir almost laughs.
It would be so cathartic to just close his fist and cut off Joren’s air, but Zahir isn’t prepared to deal with all the mess that killing his yearmate would involve. So instead he looks him in the eye and says quietly, “I am no one’s pet. I don’t want to see you ever again.” He shoves Joren away from him and the blond boy stumbles, looking up at him with shock and growing anger.
Zahir looks down his nose at him, feeling debased for ever calling Joren ‘friend’. “You’re beneath me.”
QC by: journeycat