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Handkerchiefs and Mischief

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Harry stared at the bored receptionist dressed in a pretty pale blue blouse for a moment in confusion before he noticed the handkerchiefs sitting in stacks on the shelves behind the woman. “Grey?” he tried hesitantly, picking the first colour he saw on the back.

She handed him a grey square cloth. “That’s twenty.”

For a plain handkerchief? Harry nearly choked. He pulled out bills in his pocket, wrinkled from being stuffed in too quickly, and paid her, glancing behind him one more time to ensure he hadn’t been followed into…whatever the hell this place was.

She waved a hand, and Harry cautiously went through the door to see where he had fled to.

It was a club, he realised. Not a night club of pounding music, flashing lights, and dancing, drunk people crammed on a tiny space, but something else. At first glance, he thought it was some posh place for people to come have a drink or eat a meal, hence the ridiculous price. The atmosphere was calm, the place well-lit and clean. There were people sitting at a bar or lounging in comfortable black chairs, and soft conversations filled the room, but no one seemed drunk.

Then Harry noticed the other things. There were people kneeling on the floor by some of the chairs. Some of them held platters of food in their hands. Others were curled up by someone sitting in a chair, head on a lap as they stared at nothing in particular. Harry met the eyes of one of them and hurriedly looked away, feeling like a voyeur. There were those with hands bound by rope behind their backs. Some had blindfolds over their eyes. Others had a cloth covering their mouth, acting as a gag.

Everyone in the club had a handkerchief tucked into a pocket. He could see every colour of the rainbow and then some. It had to mean something. Harry looked at the grey cloth in his hands and stuffed it into the back, right pocket of his jeans, trying to appear like he belonged. He skimmed his eyes the crowd, trying to see if anyone else had grey. What had he chosen?

“You look new,” a man murmured, coming up beside him. “How did you find this place?”

Harry glanced at the stranger and his mouth dried at the sight of the very pretty man standing a little behind him. He had dark hair, mussed like he had just rolled out of bed, and hazel eyes that stared intently at Harry, almost making Harry wonder if he was a telepath. “I—” thought this place was an abandoned building where he could hide out “—heard about it from a friend.” Before the stranger could ask for the name of the friend, Harry stuck his hand out. “Harry.”

The stranger shook it with a firm grip. “Cedric. Would you like me to show you around?”

“If you wouldn’t mind.”

Cedric walked ahead, and Harry snuck a look at his handkerchief. Black left pocket.

“This is the public space. Only very light play is allowed here. Voyeurism and exhibitionism over there, private rooms on this side and downstairs, implements in that room. DMs wear silver vests. There’s usually at least one combat mage and one healer on site for emergencies and accidents. Red is the club safeword, so using that will immediately get a DM’s attention. Do you have a personal safeword?”

DMs? A safeword? What was this place? “I use red too?” Harry tried.

Cedric nodded like that was normal, and Harry relaxed. “How much have you played before?”

“Not much. I’m new to, um, everything.” New as in he hadn’t thought about playing at all until this moment. He didn’t even know what Cedric meant, but he was sure that Cedric’s definition of the word was very different from his own.

Cedric hummed and looked around the room. He gestured for someone to come over. A man in a well-tailored suit and a navy-blue handkerchief in the left pocket of his trousers made his way through the room.

Harry tore his eyes away after realising he was staring and wiped his suddenly sweaty hands on his jeans.

“This is Tom, my partner. Tom, this is Harry. He’s new.”

“Hi,” Harry managed to say, his brain suddenly filled with images of the two of them together. He forced the thoughts out.

Tom frowned. “How did someone new find this place?”

“A friend of mine recommended it,” Harry said, repeating his earlier lie. “They said it was safe? A nice place to…explore, and…figure out what I like.” The handbook said the trick to lying was to give enough detail to be believable but not too much to sound like he was embellishing a story. Then again, the handbook also said to sound confident, and he was pretty sure that he was anything but.

Tom nodded. “Bondage is nice for a beginner to start with. What kind of bondage are you interested in?”

Bondage? Harry felt as though the air was getting sucked out of his lungs, and any cover story he had been trying to come up with died in its tracks.

“Let’s grab a drink and talk,” Cedric said when Harry didn’t say anything. “What would you like, Harry? We have a two-drink limit on alcoholic drinks for people planning to play.”

“Coffee?” Harry asked.

Cedric eyed him. “Maybe decaf. You look like you’re about to jump out of your skin.” He flashed a mischievous smile. “Don’t worry, we only bite when you ask us to.”

Harry nodded weakly and watched Cedric walk to the bar, leaving him alone with Tom.

“What are you really doing here,” Tom demanded when Cedric was out of earshot.

Harry flinched. “What do you mean?”

“You’re clearly not here because you like kink. You haven’t looked in the direction of any of the private rooms, you haven’t asked any questions about kink, and you went with the least kinky thing possible for your preference.”

“There’s nothing wrong with bondage,” Harry protested even though he didn’t even know if he liked bondage.

“No, but there is something wrong with pretending to like bondage just to enter a place you don’t belong in.”

“I’m not pretending,” Harry snapped. “I’ll prove it.”

“How?” Tom mocked. “You’re going to let us tie you up and have our way with you?”

The reasonable part of his mind was shrieking at him to stop digging himself into a deeper hole, but the rest of him that had always desired to prove the world wrong about him refused to yield. “Yes.”

Tom’s lips curved into a predatory smile. “Tell me what type of bondage you’re into.”

“Ropes?” Harry tried. He needed more detail than that if he wanted it to be believable. “I like it when people use their hands, not magic. I want it tight but not enough to cut off circulation. I’m not into being permanently damaged. I like rope that’s coarse and leaves marks for a few hours.”

“We can work with that, can’t we, Cedric.”

Harry turned and saw Cedric standing behind him with three cups in his hands and felt a mix of terror and anticipation pool in his stomach as he realised what he had just committed to.

“Room three is free,” Cedric said, eyes running over Harry’s body. He handed the drinks to Harry, and Harry accepted them automatically. “I’ll get rope and water and meet you there. You’ll handle negotiations?”

Tom nodded and led the way through the crowd to one of the rooms in the back where Cedric had indicated the location of the private rooms. He opened the third door from the left. “Black means unoccupied,” Tom said, nodding at the square on the wall. “White means occupied.” He flicked a switch and the square flared brightly. “You can back out at any time. Say red and we’ll escort you out and get you a cab, and you can forget this night ever happened.”

“I want this,” Harry said, and he wasn’t too sure if he was lying or not anymore.

Tom nodded at the table on the side. “Set the drinks down there. Tell me what’s on the table for today besides bondage.”

Harry sloshed the liquid in the cups as his hands trembled to obey Tom. “Um,” he said eloquently.

“Would you like some help?”

He nodded.

“Do you want to be kissed? Touched? Fucked?”

Harry let out a strangled sound before he could stop his gods-cursed brain from spitting out images of Cedric and Tom on him, and his cock hardened. “Yes,” he choked out. “To all of it.”

“Good pet.” And then Tom pressed Harry against the wall and kissed the sense out of Harry.

Harry moaned and gripped Tom’s shoulders, trying not to fall to the ground as his knees weakened under Tom’s onslaught. All he could feel was Tom’s mouth on his, harsh and demanding. All he could do was give in to everything Tom wanted to take.

“Starting without me?” Cedric asked lightly, shutting the door behind him.

Tom pulled back. “I got bored waiting. Strip, darling.”

It took Harry a moment to realise Tom was talking to him, and he somehow held himself up on shaky legs. He undid the belt for his jeans and moved to push them down when his hands brushed the package in his front pocket, and he remembered why he was here.

Tom raised an eyebrow when Harry hesitated. “Did you have a question about what I want.”

“No, sir.” The last word dropped out of his mouth without his permission, and Harry’s cheeks burned, but Tom smiled. Warmth spread in Harry’s chest this time, not from embarrassment but from pleasure at the sign of Tom’s approval.

“Then continue.”

Harry pushed his jeans and pants down in a single move and kicked them to the corner, glancing once to make sure the package was hidden safely away. He took off his T-shirt and tossed it on top of the pile.

“Darling, you’re already hard.” Tom shook his head in mock sadness. “Too eager. Cedric, do you think you can fix that?”

“Of course. Lie on the bed, darling.”

Harry swallowed and set himself on top of the covers gingerly. Cedric prowled towards him, the beige ropes coiled in his hands. He watched Cedric wrap the ropes around his body, creating intricate knots across his chest. Cedric wound them around Harry’s ankles, binding his feet together, and then tied Harry’s hands over his head to the bars at the headboard so he couldn’t free himself.

“At our mercy now,” Cedric murmured. “Anything to say?”

He swallowed and kept his silence.

“How do you feel about magic during sex?” Tom asked.

“I, erm, haven’t really thought about it.” Harry’s cheeks burned. He would never tell them, but this was the most action he had seen in months. Since he’d started his job, he had been too tired to even get quality time with his hand, let alone another person.

“Think about it now.”

“It’s…I’m not opposed to it.”

“What if we use it to stop you from coming.”

Harry’s cock hardened even more at the promise in Tom’s voice. “I wouldn’t be opposed to that either,” he managed to say.

Tom sat beside Harry on the bed and traced his finger over Harry’s cock. His touch was too light to give Harry any real friction, but that wasn’t his purpose. His finger left behind silver marks of warm, prickly magic that sent small shocks of sensation through his cock, and Harry tried to arch, torn between getting closer and escaping.

Some people had magic that felt abrasive and rough. Brushing against their magic was an uncomfortable, stifling experience that felt like thousands of needles were being pressed against skin, digging in and drawing blood. Other people had more compatible magic, and being with them was like leaning against a pillow, soft and comfortable. Tom, somehow, had a combination of both. Spiky and soft and good and bad all in one bundle until Harry wasn’t sure of what he was feeling other than arousal.

The lines disappeared as the spell took hold, and Tom released Harry’s cock. He ran cool fingertips up along Harry’s bound body until he reached a nipple and twisted.

Harry jerked and cried out harshly, the pain turning into pulses of desire soon enough. And then he felt the hand on his cock.

Cedric stroked him with a firm grip, playing with the sensitive underside. Harry thrust his hips a little, trying to get Cedric to go faster, but Tom pushed him down.

“Don’t push,” he said. “You’ll take what we give you. However much we decide to give you.”

Harry whimpered and nodded. “Yes, sir,” he whispered.

“Good. Now let Cedric play.”

Harry let out a strangled moan and felt Cedric’s hands work him until he was sweaty and hot and desperate. Tom’s spellwork was impeccable, and though he felt his orgasm approach, it never crested.

“Do you know what the black handkerchief in the left pocket means?” Tom asked like they were having a casual conversation over coffee instead of sharing a bed, Harry almost out of his mind from the need to come.

He found the will in him to shake his head and shudder.

“It means Cedric is a sadist. He likes it when his partners hurt. Preferably with certain implements, but this gets him off too. Do you like that? Knowing your suffering gives him pleasure?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Such a good pet.”

Harry sighed at the praise and tried to curl up closer to Tom while also keeping himself open to Cedric.

Finally, Cedric grew bored of playing and released Harry. “Would you like to come?”

“Please,” Harry begged.

In a sudden move, Cedric cut the ropes binding him the headboard with magic. Before Harry could react, Tom flipped him to his front and inserted two slicked-up fingers in him harshly. “Dark blue left pocket, on the other hand, means I’m interested in fucking you.”

Harry moaned, and his legs tried to open instinctively, but they were still bound together. “More,” he gasped.

Tom found his prostate unerringly and thrust his fingers, causing pleasure to pool in his gut again. His cock, if possible, got even harder. Gods, it had been so long. The fingers disappeared and were replaced by the heavy head of Tom’s latex-covered cock. He pressed in slowly, the stretch almost too much. Tom didn’t wait for Harry to become used to him before withdrawing and thrusting back inside, and the fact he didn’t made it all the better.

His thrusts grew more erratic as he approached his peak and the spell on Harry’s cock vanished. His orgasm swept over him unexpectedly, and he let out a shout as he came. The aftershocks made him shudder as he slumped down on the bed, all his strength gone.

Tom didn’t stop though, and soon the pleasure turned to pain as the man abused his prostate relentlessly, and Harry let out a choked groan. For some reason, despite the pain—or maybe because of the pain—his cock was trying and failing to get hard again. Finally, Tom came and withdrew from Harry. His heavy weight disappeared for a moment as he rolled off to the side to toss the condom away before he came back and held Harry tightly in his arms.

“What about Cedric?” Harry mumbled, gesturing in Cedric’s general direction.

“That’s sweet of you to care, darling, but I don’t need to come. Drink some water.” Cedric pressed the water bottle, and Harry guzzled it gratefully.

He yawned and shut his eyes, allowing the haze in his mind to take over.

The next time Harry opened his eyes, he was tucked under the sheets in between Cedric and Tom, ropes off. The two of them were talking quietly as they sipped the mugs of coffee.

“You’re awake,” Cedric said when Harry stretched in the bed to get the kinks out of his body. “How do you feel?”

“Tired. Sore. Good. What time is it?”

“Around four in the morning.”

“Why are you drinking coffee at four in the morning?” Harry asked incredulously.

Tom ran a soothing hand over Harry’s hair. “We’re going to work soon. Go back to sleep, darling.”

He hesitated. “I should go.” It had been hours since he ducked in here, looking for a place to hide out until he had the magic to complete a teleportation circle back to headquarters, and while he wasn’t at full strength, he had recovered enough to make the trip safely.

“Do you want to?”

No. “I have work,” Harry said reluctantly. He wiggled out of the bed as best as he could without disturbing them and tugged on his clothes. His hand slipped into the pocket to make sure he still had the package. He looked at the two of them, mussed up from sex and too beautiful to be of this world, and fled the room. It would be a memory he would treasure and wank to, but that was all it would be. A memory. He would never see them again.

Outside the building, Harry focused his magic on the concrete ground and created the teleportation circle to whisk him through dimensions to headquarters. He smoothed out his hair and tried to look like he hadn’t just rolled out of bed with two amazing partners before making his way to the handlers’ station. “Hi, Luna,” he said to the blond woman sitting at a desk. “This is for you.” He handed her the package, a thin silver disk carved with runes of old magic.

She took it, blue eyes solemn and big. “Congratulations on the successful op. Are you going to try to become a field agent?”

Harry shuddered. “Not bloody likely. I’m never going in the field again.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”

He paused. “Did you see something?” Luna was one of the best seers in all the dimensions, her accuracy at over ninety percent.

“Just a feeling. We have some field agents getting in tomorrow. They’ve been on forced vacation for a while, and it would be good for you to meet them since you’ll be working closely together.”

“Oh? Have I heard of them?”

Luna shook her head, blond curls bouncing. “They do a lot of deep cover and not many people actually know who they are in order to protect their identities, but they do usually go by Tom and Cedric.”

Harry felt his will to live wither and die inside him. Oh gods. Oh gods. He remembered Cedric saying that Tom was his partner. At the time, he had assumed Cedric meant romantic partner, or maybe kink partner, but could it be agency partner?

There had to be lots of Tom and Cedric partners right?

“I’ve already sent them your contact information,” Luna continued, oblivious to Harry’s internal meltdown. “Just basic details with your badge picture, name, and so on. Do you want theirs?”

He shook his head weakly. “No, I’ll, uh, get it from them tomorrow.”

“Today,” Luna corrected. “They’ll be here in about two hours.”

Harry let out a strangled whimper. “That’s lovely. Going home now. I’ll meet them tomorrow. Bye!” Harry fled before Luna could tell him anything else and ran out. He rued the day he had decided that living in agency assigned housing was easier, and he spent a restless two hours tensing each time he heard footsteps, wondering if it were a certain two agents here to look for him.

When the clock hit six, he finally couldn’t stand it anymore, and he went back to his workstation. There, he found a cup of coffee.

Since you didn’t get a chance to drink yours last night. -C&T