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Honor and Obey

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He chooses his steps carefully, which has nothing to do with any sort of a desire for stealth on his part because the thought of attempting to sneak up on the person he’s looking for is so absurd it would never occur to him. It’s more out of concern for the state of his boots, which are new, and custom made, and he’d spent almost an hour polishing them to the perfect sheen last night. Now here he is, wandering through rough, unkempt woods, with branches and thorny little vines tugging at his hair and coat, dust and underbrush marring the perfect finish on his new boots. It isn’t that Freed Justine is a snob. It’s just that he likes to present himself in the best light possible. Especially for the man he considers his leader, his lord and master...the current reason he’s tromping around out here in the middle of nowhere, actually…

 

“What the hell are you doing, Freed?”

 

That’s the one. Freed flinches and whirls to face the direction from which the annoyed snarl has come, hoping against hope that there’s a chance in hell Laxus hasn’t heard the horribly undignified sound that’s escaped Freed’s lips, which could probably best be described as a squeak of alarm. He’s never going to get used to how someone as big as the lightning dragonslayer can move as quietly as he does when he wants to. It’s a frail hope, as frail as Freed’s hope that Laxus will someday look at him as something more than a follower, or a comrade. The tiny quirk of amusement at the corner of Laxus’ irritated frown puts paid to that hope, and Freed’s fair skin flushes hot with embarrassment.

 

It had been so much easier, carrying this lonely torch, when he’d believed Laxus to be straight. Easier because Freed’s always thought people who imposed their advances upon others who didn’t share their sexual orientation were tacky, and that’s something he’ll never be. Easier too, because he’d known beyond any shadow of a doubt that there was no hope . Then had come that awful night when he’d been sent out to find Laxus with a message from his grandfather (and it’s partly because the two of them are at least communicating again that Freed is here now), finding him at last in one of the out of the way pubs on the edge of Magnolia. Laxus had been drunk, the evidence of his night’s work strewn across the pub table in a disarray of empty rocks glasses that reeked of whiskey. He hadn’t seen Freed come in. He’d been too busy with the individual who was sitting in his lap, his big hand buried in messy locks of tangled hair of some indeterminate darkish color while he busily kissed his chosen companion for the night. Freed doesn’t know who it had been, knows it was someone he’s never met before, and considers it likely that Laxus hadn’t either and probably hasn’t since, but none of those details matter. What matters is that, when he’d approached, and Laxus had finally stopped making out with his flavor-of-the-night long enough to acknowledge his presence (Freed had been absolutely certain Laxus had known he was there from the moment he’d walked in the door whether he’d seen Freed or not, because drunk or sober, Laxus’ sense of smell is just as keen as any dragonslayer’s), Freed had at last been able to see that the person Laxus had been kissing was a young man. Laxus had smirked at him and asked what he wanted. Freed, mortified beyond words, had thrust the rolled up scroll from Makarov in Laxus’ general direction and fled as fast as he could.

 

That had been a couple of weeks ago, some time after they’d all returned from whatever magic had saved them from the evil dragon Acnologia, wrought by Fairy Tail’s founder Mavis Vermillion. He and Evergreen and Bickslow have met with Laxus a few times since then, but it’s only recently they’ve discovered that the man has actually been living out here. The Thunder God, his Thunder God, out here in the woods like some vagrant. Freed swallows his humiliation over unmanly noises and lifts his chin to look Laxus in the eyes.

 

“I’ve come to bring you home,” he says softly.

 

“Ain’t happening,” says Laxus shortly, shoving away from the tree he’s leaning against and turning away from Freed. “I’m still banished, and you know that.”

 

“Your grandfather is going to change his mind, any day now. Everyone wants him to. Even Erza asked,” cries Freed, afraid Laxus is just going to vanish again, afraid that this time he might never return.

 

“Freed,” says Laxus softly, cutting short his protests. “I betrayed the Guild. I hurt a lot of people.”

 

“You saved a lot of people too!”

 

“One good deed doesn’t erase all the laws I broke,” sighs Laxus, eerily parroting the words his grandsire has been repeating to everyone who’s been asking him when Laxus will be allowed to come back to Fairy Tail. Freed’s getting heartily sick of hearing them, when he knows damned well that all the old man is really waiting for is for Laxus to come to him and ask, and all Laxus is waiting for is the old man to do the same thing, but that both of them are so stubborn neither wants to be the one to make the first move.

 

“This is ridiculous. It is...it’s...well, it’s unseemly for the Master of the Thunder God Legion and the grandson and heir of Makarov Dreyar to be skulking about in the forest like a common vagrant,” says Freed angrily, two bright spots of color flagging his cheeks. Laxus turns back to face him, one eyebrow lifting...the one on the side of his face that isn’t scarred.

 

Unseemly ? Freed, do I really look like the kind of guy to you who’s ever gonna give a rat’s ass whether what I do looks unseemly to anyfuckingbody?” he asks, barking out a short, harsh laugh. He doesn’t, which is, in bizarre contrast to almost everything else about Freed’s personality, one of the reasons he loves this man. Laxus doesn’t care what people think of him. He’ll never do anything simply for the purpose of keeping up appearances. He’ll never choose what’s expected over what he really wants unless they happen to coincide anyway.

 

“Even if it doesn’t matter to you, it matters to me ! I cannot bear the thought of you out here in these wretched woods alone, without a roof over your head to protect you if it rains. And it’s going to start getting colder soon...it will be dangerous!”

 

“Not as dangerous as someone like me taking a place in town when I don’t have a guild symbol to protect me. Even if I can’t think of anyone in Magnolia who scares me, I know I...and Fairy Tail...have plenty of enemies. That’s why I’m layin’ low for now,” says Laxus with a sigh. This does make a certain amount of sense. The guild marks they all bear are far more than mere symbols of membership. Freed isn’t sure if it’s precisely the same in all other guilds, but on the island he’d learned that the massive tree there is linked to all of their guild marks, and its enormous magical energy bolsters their own and helps to protect them from death. Laxus is an incredibly powerful wizard, one of the most powerful Freed’s ever seen, but without a guild symbol to protect him, there are indeed people who might try to take advantage of that weakness to hurt him, or to hurt Makarov through Laxus, because even if he is still banished, everyone knows the old man still loves his grandson. Freed raises his chin and looks up at Laxus stubbornly.

 

“You won’t need a guild symbol if you come stay with me,” he says softly.

 

“What are you gonna do, smuggle me into your rooms under your coat?” Laxus snorts with derisive laughter. Freed flushes and clenches his fists.

 

“I’m not talking about my rooms at the guild. I’m talking about my home.

 

Laxus blinks at him in surprise.

 

“You’ve got a place at the guild and a house?”

 

“I have. And no one in the guild has ever been there, or any other mage either, for that matter.”

 

“How the hell’ve you been managing that?” asks Laxus. Freed rolls his eyes.

 

“Are you forgetting that I can teleport? I do stay in my rooms at the guild frequently, of course, but they’re frightfully small, and rather...rustic. When I want to go home, I’ll retire to my rooms, lock the door, and teleport home. I always set some runes on my door at the guild so that if anyone knocks, I’ll hear it at home, and I can teleport back right away.”

 

“Why go to all that trouble? Why haven’t you told anyone you’ve got your own place? It’s not like you’re the only one. I’m pretty sure no one would mind,” says Laxus, scratching his head and staring at Freed, looking a bit baffled. Freed frowns and looks at the dusty, scuffed toes of his boots.

 

“Let’s just say that Lucy isn’t the only one who has a family they’d just as soon the rest of the guild didn’t know about,” he mutters. He glances up and sees that Laxus is staring intently at his hair, putting two and two together and coming up with more than Freed wants him to.

 

“Green hair,” he mutters.

 

“Please,” whispers Freed. “I have worked so hard to become who I am without any help from my lineage, and it is my secret to keep or to tell. I beg you.”

 

Laxus shrugs. If Freed has some kind of family connection to the nobility (and it sure would explain a lot...the way his speech is so proper, the way he carries himself, how he dresses… Freed’s got class , more than anybody else in Fairy Tail...hell, probably more than most of them put together. You’ll never see Freed boozing it up, or whoring, or getting into brawls. It’s like he’s above those things, and yet he’s still one of them, and stands by them. He’s stood by Laxus when nobody else would), it’s his business.

 

“Keep yer shorts on,” he says, then huffs out a short laugh when this makes Freed blush. “So you think you want me for a roommate, huh?”

 

“Just...just until your rightful place in the guild is restored. You’d be….welcome as long as you want...needed a place to stay. I have plenty of room,” Freed says earnestly.

 

“It ain’t a good idea,” says Laxus gruffly.

 

“And sleeping out here in the dirt is ?” demands Freed.

 

“I’m not a good roommate. I like having things my way.”

 

“That’s all right,” Freed says softly. “I like doing things your way.”

 

“You don’t go into another guy’s house and boss him around, Freed. It’s not cool.”

 

“It is if the other guy says it’s okay,” says Freed stubbornly, closing his hands into fists.

 

“You got no idea what you’re asking for,” growls Laxus, and the tone in his voice is absolutely not helping because Freed’s pretty sure he does know exactly what Laxus means and exactly what he’s asking for. Laxus isn’t shy, and on more than one occasion his Raijinshuu have been treated to the sounds of their leader entertaining. Laxus is what Freed would describe as a very Dominant lover, if he were ever able to get the words to come out of his mouth without choking on his own tongue in embarrassment. Laxus has laughed at that embarrassment more than once, on mornings after his assignations. He presumes Freed’s chagrin to be prudery, and while it is true he has no actual experience, he couldn’t possibly be more mistaken. Freed’s had enough. Talking to Laxus is obviously getting him nowhere. And he’s been drowning in the misery of his own loneliness and hopeless worship for so long now that even if things go horribly awry now, it really can’t feel any worse to him.

 

“I am growing sick and tired of you making assumptions about me based on nothing more than a few moments’ observation,” hisses Freed angrily. “And I’m equally sick of having my sincerity called into question when you know...you have to know by now, that there is almost nothing I

would not do for you!”

 

He takes a step back and draws his sword, his right eye going dark purple with magic energy. Laxus’ eyes flash, and his skin is suddenly crackling with electricity. Freed holds out his free hand, hoping he can stop the other man from just frying him to a crisp where he stands, since Laxus has obviously completely misread his intentions.

 

“I’m not challenging you,” he gasps hurriedly, all of the fine hairs on his body standing on end with static electricity. “Please! Laxus...I’d cut off my own arm before I’d try to attack you.”

 

“Then what the fuck do you think you’re doing?” demands Laxus angrily. The power crackling around him backs off a little, but he doesn’t shut it down.

 

“I’m using Jutsu Shiki,” says Freed. “And I’m going to prove to you that I do know exactly what I’m asking for!” There are some people you can explain things to with words, but there are others, and Laxus is definitely one of them, who really learn things much more effectively by being shown. Laxus raises his eyebrow again, but Freed can tell that now he’s intrigued. His tall, muscular body stops crackling with lightning as he shuts down his energy, then crosses his arms and leans up against the tree again to watch as Freed carefully begins using his blade to scribe a detailed series of runes in the air around himself.

 

Of all of Freed’s magic, Jutsu Shiki is probably the least effective for use in combat, despite the fact that it has to be done using his sword. Jutsu Shiki takes time, and it’s pretty rare for an opponent to agree to a time out so he can use it. But aside from that, it is probably Freed’s most powerful form of letter magic. So powerful, in fact, that even Makarov himself hadn’t been able to break it. Jutsu Shiki creates a magical barrier around a space of Freed’s choosing. Inside that space, Freed can create virtually any set of rules he wishes, if he has enough time, and whomever is caught inside the barrier when it activates cannot get out again unless they follow those rules. This particular inscription doesn’t take as long as some others he’s used in the past. The area is small, comprising only of himself, and the rules are simple. There’s only one, actually. Freed activates the enchantment, then has to try a couple of times before he’s able to get his sword back into its sheath, because his hands are shaking so badly with terror. Terror, and excitement too, if he’s honest, even though he feels a little bit as if he’s going to be ill. He glances up at Laxus through his bangs, hating for probably the thousandth time that his skin is so fine and fair that it shows his emotions so easily.

 

“What have you done?” asks Laxus keenly.

 

“I...I have a proposal for you. I’ll prove to you, right now, to your satisfaction that I truly am perfectly all right with obeying your orders...that I...I want to, and you agree to stop living out here all alone in the wilderness and accept the offer of my spare bedroom.”

 

“How’s that gonna work, exactly?” asks Laxus, sounding skeptical, but his interest is definitely piqued, because he pushes away from the tree and takes several steps closer to Freed.

 

“You...you know how Jutsu Shiki works,” says Freed, swallowing hard to get past the lump in his throat. This isn’t a question, of course. Laxus knows perfectly well how this particular enchantment works. Freed has used it for him before.

 

“What are the rules?”

 

“There’s only one. I...I have to obey you.”

 

“It’s your own enchantment,” says Laxus, sounding a little doubtful, but there’s a definite gleam of interest in his eyes.

 

“I’m aware of that. And yes, I have the ability to break it by unwriting it with my sword if I decide I can’t go through with something you tell me to do. Then I’ll have failed the test, and I’ll leave you alone. But unless I unwrite it, as of this moment, I’m literally incapable of disobeying anything you order me to do.” Freed’s honest desire to help Laxus, his outraged sense of propriety, and his endless months of unrequited love may have made him desperate enough to try something this brazen and outrageous, but he’s not stupid either. He does have limits, knows there are things he won’t do, even for Laxus, and besides, if Laxus really is just dead set against taking him up on his offer of hospitality, all he has to do is order Freed to do something impossible. He stands still, waiting for Laxus to decide, trembling in every fiber of his being. He becomes abruptly aware that his cock is so hard it actually hurts, and blushes and even deeper crimson in mortification. Well, since Laxus isn’t interested in him that way, there’s probably nothing to worry about, and Freed’s almost gotten used to walking around more than half-aroused when he’s anywhere close to Laxus by now anyway.

 

Laxus tilts his head to the side and watches Freed for what seems like a very long time, but is probably in reality less than a minute, his eyes tracking lazily up and down the smaller man’s body with predatory interest. Freed wonders desperately if this is how small furry things feel when tossed into cages with large carnivorous things on warm, lazy Summer days when the carnivorous things aren’t quite hungry enough to get up from relaxing in the shade but it’s only a matter of time.

 

“This could be fun,” purrs Laxus. Freed flinches and yelps in terror, realizing to his horror that he’s closed his eyes for a moment to fortify himself and that Laxus has taken the opportunity to step so close to him that his breath tickles the hair around his ear. Laxus chuckles. It’s not a very nice laugh, but it does crazy things to Freed’s insides. He bites his lip and lifts his chin, tilting his head up to look Laxus in the eyes.

 

“So you agree to my proposal?” he asks breathlessly.

 

“What’s the time limit?”

 

Freed bites his lip in chagrin. He hadn’t even thought of a time limit. He stares up at Laxus in a panic, but Laxus grins and pats him reassuringly on the shoulder. At least, he thinks it’s meant to be reassuring. It doesn’t have quite that effect.

 

“How ‘bout we say one hour?” offers Laxus, still grinning. Freed gulps and nods shortly.

 

“Y-yes. Ah...that’s fine. One hour then. S-starting now.”

 

“Take off your jacket,” says Laxus casually. Freed sighs in relief as his fingers fly of their own accord to unbutton his double-breasted walking coat. He draws his arms from the sleeves and folds the tailored garment over his arm, smoothing out the fine fabric. “And drop it on the ground,” continues Laxus. Freed lets out a small cry of dismay even as his arms let go of his lovely coat and it falls to the ground with a whump. At least it hasn’t rained recently, so there isn’t any mud! Laxus laughs at the expression on his face, but then he surprises Freed by bending down, picking up his coat and laying it carefully over a low branch on a nearby tree.

 

“I...thank you,” he whispers.

 

“Just testin’,” grins Laxus. “You really do have to do whatever I say.”

 

“Yes,” agrees Freed. “You’ve seen Jutsu Shiki force best friends to fight each other against their will. My body will obey you automatically, because I’m already pledged to follow you anyway as your Raijinshu.” And because I want to belong to you cries the voice in his head, but he’s not going to say that part out loud.

 

“Alright Freed,” purrs Laxus, walking in a very slow and rather predatory circle around him which does nothing whatsoever to help the condition of Freed’s arousal and he’s desperately, desperately glad he wears loose trousers, “you want to play with the big boys, I’ll play your game. I think you’re gonna be sorry though, and I think you’re gonna back out of this a long time before this hour is up.” Freed swallows hard.

 

“Just because I may not have a lot of experience with...certain things...doesn’t make me a little boy,” whispers Freed. Laxus stops for a second and looks at him sharply.

 

“Freed,” he says softly, “I trust you probably more than I trust anybody, an’ I’d have you at my back. You are a badass fuckin’ wizard, yeah? But the way you look at me, like I’m some kinda knight in fuckin’ armor, like I’m your hero...it’s….you’re all….pure. And I’m not , Freed. I’m not ever gonna be anybody’s knight, and I’m so fuckin’ bent, but you don’t seem to see it, so I’ll show you, and maybe you’ll stop lookin’ at me like that, and see how...never mind. Too late now. You started this game, so we’re gonna play, and you’ll see.”

 

Freed opens his mouth to speak, to tell Laxus how very wrong he is about almost all of that, but Laxus puts his finger on Freed’s lips and shushes him, and then Freed’s not able to speak anymore.

 

“Take off your cravat,” says Laxus, breathes it in his ear. Freed realizes Laxus is doing this to try to scare him off, but as his shaking fingers carefully undo the windsor knot at his throat, it isn’t the kind of fear Laxus imagines it to be that’s making them shake. Though he is pretty sure he might die of embarrassment if this disrobing trend continues for a lot longer. Freed stands still, holding his lace cravat in his hands, waiting for another order. Laxus pulls it gently from his unresisting fingers, brings it to his own face and inhales deeply. Freed, who is trapped inside the sillence Laxus has imposed upon him, is, for this one moment, absurdly grateful, because he’s unable to let out the tiny whimper in his throat at the sight of Laxus taking in his scent.

 

“You always smell good, Freed. Clean and sweet. Innocent. Take off your vest.”

 

Freed obeys him, removing his buff-colored waistcoat and folding it in half. Laxus takes that from him too.

 

“Nothing to say yet? That’s okay, we’re just starting. Unbutton your shirt.”

 

Freed would almost laugh hysterically if he could when he realizes Laxus has taken his silence for bravado rather than obedience, as his fingers fumble a little over the fine, small buttons of his snowy white linen shirt. Laxus has only ordered him to unbutton it, not to untuck it, so it doesn’t gape open very much. Freed lets his hands fall to his sides and waits. His whole body startles violently when Laxus’ hands settle on his hips from behind, again grateful for his (likely temporary) moratorium on making a single sound. Laxus is bound to ask him a question soon, and he’ll have to answer.

 

Laxus is surprisingly dextrous for all his muscle and the size of his hands. His fingers pluck gently at the tails of Freed’s shirt, slowly tugging them free of his breeches. His breath is hot on the back of Freed’s ear, which is scarlet with embarrassment, but he keeps his back straight, and makes no move to stop Laxus, even though he’s perfectly free to, since he hasn’t been given an order.

 

“Why don’t you try to stop me?” asks Laxus curiously, clearly aware of the very same thing.

 

“Because you’re touching me,” admits Freed, blushing deeply and looking fixedly at the ground.

 

“Oh Freed,” growls Laxus softly. “If only you were a little bit naughtier than you are.”

 

Freed turns his head and stares at Laxus in consternation. This isn’t a conversation he knows how to have, and his own sheer inexperience frustrates him almost to tears. He doesn’t know why talking about... intimate things ...is embarrassing for him. Partly he thinks that he doesn’t know if he can bear opening himself up any more to Laxus only to be rejected, but the way Laxus is acting now makes him wonder if Laxus’ rejection isn’t, after all, out of the disinterest or revulsion he’s always assumed, but rather some misguided attempt on Laxus’ part to protect Freed from himself. The small voice inside him wants so badly for him to answer, to tell Laxus, Oh, but I am. I am naughty. But he’s still trying to drum up the courage when Laxus asks him another question.

 

“Do you have to keep your sword on your person the whole time? I mean, can you set it down?”

 

“No. Yes,” replies Freed, answering both questions. Laxus frowns, thinking at first he’s contradicting himself, then he laughs.

 

“Guess I should give you time to answer one before I ask another, huh? Okay, take off your sword belt and sword and hang them on the same branch with your coat.”

 

The way Laxus watches him manages to turn the act of unbuckling his belt into a lascivious act. His blue eyes crackle with tiny sparks. Freed feels a little faint as he walks unsteadily over to the tree a few feet away where his coat hangs, to add his sword and belt on top of it.

 

“No, stay right there near the tree,” says Laxus quickly when he turns to walk back. “You need to be able to reach it….if you decide to. I don’t want to….well, just stay there.”

 

Freed nods, feeling a warm rush of affection for Laxus at the show of concern. Laxus is obviously not above tormenting him a little, but he’s still remaining aware of Freed’s safety, and his ability to choose. Laxus simply doesn’t understand how badly Freed truly wants to not have those choices when it comes to him. Laxus comes over to join him, grinning a little at the wayy Freed shudders when he stops directly in front of the shorter wizard.

 

“Get on your knees, Freed.”

 

Freed drops instantly and gracefully to his knees, folding his hands in his lap and bowing his head. He lets out a soft whimper. He can’t help it. He’s under no more orders to be silent, and this is starting to feel so much like the things he dreams of at night, or thinks of when he’s alone and can pleasure himself to his own fantasies, that he’s starting to be afraid he might simply explode if Laxus happens to touch him. He feels dizzy. This is not what he’d expected with his challenge. Believing Laxus to be truly uninterested in him physically, he’d expected to be made to do embarrassing stunts, or perform odd acrobatics. Not this .

 

“Look at me,” breathes Laxus, and Freed has no choice. His head snaps up instantly and he meets Laxus’ gaze straight on. “God,” whispers the dragonslayer. “I could make you do it. Make you suck me off, right here.” Freed says nothing, as it’s not a question. He stares steadily into Laxus’ eyes, unable to look away. Laxus reaches down and rubs the ball of his thumb over Freed’s bottom lip. It makes him shiver.

 

“Have you ever done that before with anyone?” Laxus’ voice has gone oddly husky. Freed has to swallow past the terror and exhilaration clogging his throat before he can answer.

 

“No.”

 

“I could make you, right now. Open my pants and take out my cock. Make you suck it, lick it with your cute little tongue, get me off with that pretty mouth,” murmurs Laxus. Freed trembles. “Bet that’d make you break the spell.” Freed just keeps looking straight into Laxus’ eyes. Laxus frowns a little, then rolls his eyes at how very literal Freed’s rune magic can be sometimes. “Wouldn’t it?”

 

“No,” says Freed softly. Laxus’ eyebrow shoots up and his mouth opens a little.

 

“You’d whore yourself for me? Just to get me to come in outta the fuckin’ rain?” demands Laxus. He sounds almost angry.

 

“No,” says Freed firmly.

 

“But you just said…”

 

There’s not actually anything stopping Freed from conversing freely with Laxus, he’s just been too captivated by his own spell to feel terribly motivated to do it up until now.

 

“I will never whore myself for anyone,” he says, pleased that his voice doesn’t sound as shaky as the rest of his body feels. “And if you truly asked it of me, I would indeed break the spell and forfeit this bet. But you didn’t mention anything about...sending me off to service some stranger. You asked if I’d break the spell if you asked me to….to….do that with you. I would not.”

 

“Why?” Laxus asks.

 

“Because I wouldn’t want to break it.”

 

“But I’d be humiliating you…”

 

“A little,” whispers Freed, shivering again.

 

“If I ordered you to do it, and you...you did,” Laxus says, taking a deep breath, “why would you, Freed? Why would you obey something like that ?”

 

“Because I’d very much like to,” says Freed honestly.

 

“STAND UP,” yells Laxus suddenly, taking an abrupt step back. Freed leaps instantly to his feet, a little on his guard, because Laxus looks kind of angry. “Okay, hold on here. I’m gonna ask you some more questions now, and these have nothing to do with this…” Laxus waves his hand in the air helplessly, “challenge! But I’m pretty fuckin’ glad you’re spellbound to tell the truth right now too!” He turns abruptly and starts pacing back and forth. Freed tracks his movements with his eyes very closely, because the fine hairs on his body have risen with static again, and he really hopes Laxus isn’t going to attack him or something because he’s clearly managed to upset the man in some way.

 

“You’re a virgin, right?” demands Laxus. Freed flushes.

 

“Yes.”

 

“Have you ever done anything sexual at all, with anyone, male or female?”

 

“I kissed a girl when I was 16,” says Freed. “I didn’t like it.”

 

“That’s all ?” says Laxus incredulously.

 

“Yes.”

 

“Why??”

 

“I met you not long after that,” replies Freed, “and fell in love with you. There hasn’t been anyone else for me since then, and may not ever be, even if you never return my feelings. I’m content to follow you and do your bidding, and to be your strong right arm.”

 

“Geez,” sighs Laxus, swiping a hand over his face. Some of the electricity in the air backs down a little, and the tension between Freed’s shoulder blades lessens. “Okay. I know you and Ever and Bix have been...around….when I’ve brought a few companions back to my rooms, right?”

 

“Yes,” says Freed, tamping down on the flare of bitter jealousy he feels when he recalls those times.

 

“I’ve never tried very hard to be quiet, or too secretive. Or secretive at all. Have you heard things?”

 

“Yes,” nods Freed, his cheeks darkening with awkward embarrassment again.

 

“Tell me some of the things you’ve heard,” orders Laxus harshly, looking keenly at Freed. This is a question he would never answer out loud if he had a choice in the matter, but there’s no way in any kind of hell he’s going to unwrite his spell to save himself this kind of embarrassment when Laxus himself has said that these questions don’t even have anything to do with the challenge. His face, neck and ears burning with shame, Freed recounts the things he can recall overhearing when Laxus has entertained intimate company while his Raijinshuu were in the next room.

 

Slapping sounds, repetitive ones, with Laxus’ partner making noises the whole time while Freed didn’t hear many sounds from Laxus.

 

Laxus’ voice, saying all manner of things along the lines of, “Be a good girl for me,” or “Someone’s been very bad today,” or “I think that calls for some punishment,” or “Is that too tight? No? Good. Mm. You look good like that.”

 

Laxus listens to him recount what he can, a strange expression on his face, ferocious and yet somehow almost eager.

 

“How’d it make you feel, hearing those things?” he asks keenly.

 

“Jealous,” says Freed honestly.

 

“Because I was with someone who wasn’t you?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Is that the only reason?” Laxus presses, abruptly stepping closer to him again. Freed feels like he can’t breathe, as if Laxus’ energy is sucking all of the oxygen out of the immediate vicinity.

 

“No,” he whispers in a tiny voice. He knows Laxus is going to keep asking questions, and tears prick the corners of his eyes in humiliation, knowing his own twisted, perverse desires are about to be made known. He’s mortified down to his toes, and if it weren’t for the fact that Laxus was the one who’d been acting an awful lot like he’d actually wanted to order Freed to...use his mouth on him a few minutes ago, he knows he probably would break the spell and flee as fast as he could, certain Laxus would find him repulsive once he finds out. But Laxus had looked like he wanted to, and Freed also feels a tiny, cautious, terrified wild hope in his chest that maybe they’ve both actually misunderstood a few things about each other. Massively important, huge things which might change everything in an instant.

 

What if Laxus doesn’t actually find Freed repulsive, but has been shielding him from his desires because he thinks Freed would be horrified? What if Laxus hasn’t realized that Freed’s blushing and awkwardness aren’t prudery really...a good portion of inexperienced embarrassment, sure… but aching desire for something he doesn’t know how to put into words and has always been too ashamed to admit, even to himself? But if….oh if Laxus were to want any of those same things...with him?

 

“Tell me the other reason,” growls Laxus sternly.

 

“It was never only that I wanted to be with you in their place,” says Freed in a small voice. “I also wanted so badly for you to be doing those things to me.” A single tear rolls down the side of his face.

 

“Freed,” says Laxus, looking startled and amazed. He reaches out with one finger and catches the tear from Freed’s cheek. Staring into the green-haired mage’s lovely turquoise eyes, he brings his finger to his mouth and licks Freed’s tear off his fingertip. “You’ve got no business being so cute when you cry. Makes me kinda want to make you do it more. But in a dirty way, not a mean way,” he adds.

 

“Okay,” breathes Freed. Laxus blinks.

 

“Wh...what?”

 

“I said okay,” repeats Freed uncertainly, looking up at Laxus in confusion. Laxus swipes a hand over his face.

 

“Fuck,” he whispers. Suddenly he reaches out and grasps Freed by the arms, giving him a tiny shake. “Why didn’t you ever tell me this, Freed??” Freed gapes at him.

 

“At first, because I thought you were straight, so there was never going to be any hope in any case,” he says, feeling confused because he’d sort of thought it was obvious. “And...and then, after I saw you with that other man in the bar that night, and realized you were bisexual at the very least, I realized the reason must be because it was just me. That I...I’m unappealing. Why would I confess a secret f-fantasy to someone I know is never going to fulfill it?”

 

“Unappea….Freed,” cries Laxus, “I’ve been staying the fuck away from you because I didn’t want to hurt you, or scare you, or make you hate me because I’m just this sick bastard! You’re not unappealing to me! Not at all. I didn’t….I didn’t want to break you, want to ruin you and… destroy the best fuckin’ thing that’s ever happened to me! You’re pretty much my best friend, Freed! You’re the only person in the entire world who just...always has fuckin’ faith in me, no matter how bad I screw up, and always stands by me, no matter what!”

 

“Oh,” gasps Freed faintly. His wild hope is how battering itself wildly against the inside of his ribcage as if it might burst forth and leap into the air.

 

Oh ? That’s your response?” Laxus throws back his head and laughs. “Shit, Freed! When you cast this fuckin’ spell, I thought I knew what was gonna happen. I thought you’d get so freaked out when I started ordering you to do sexy things that you’d chicken out, but it was my one chance. My one chance to experience just a taste. A tiny taste of the things I’ve wanted to do to you practically since I found out you were into guys too. Figured it’d be the only taste I’d ever get, so I was gonna push for as much of it as I could until you nope’d the fuck out of here. But you just kept going along. I-I almost did it. God, what an asshole! I almost ordered you to suck my dick, but when you said you’d do it, just as simple as that, I couldn’t go through with it. Couldn’t use you that way. Just because your honor made you obey the rules. It’d be like I was no better than some kinda rapist. And you’re tellin’ me it’s actually what you want ?”

 

“Yes,” agrees Freed simply.

 

“Unwrite the spell, Freed,” says Laxus suddenly. Freed feels as if a massive bucket of ice cold water has been suddenly dashed over his body. Is Laxus angry? He’d been nearly sure that Laxus was actually telling him there might be something between them after all, fulfilling Freed’s largest and most important dream, one he’d never believed could really be possible. But now? Break the spell. His shoulders slump. He’s still under its effects after all, so he has no choice but to turn and reach for his sword. Seeing his world crumbling around him, he wraps cold fingers around its hilt and slowly draws it from its scabbard, moving as slowly as he can, savoring Laxus’ last order for as long as possible,

 

“Will you hurry up?” grits Laxus impatiently, at which Freed has no choice, and begins to move briskly through the motions of banishing Jutsu Shiki.

 

“Why?” he whispers pleadingly, looking up at Laxus miserably as his blade undoes his runes. Laxus gives him a funny look.

 

Why?”  he asks incredulously.

 

“Yes. I thought….I thought you liked ...wh-what we were doing,” says Freed softly. Laxus stares at him blankly for several seconds, then bursts out laughing.

 

“Oh fuck, Freed, you’re priceless. You win .”

 

“I...I..what?” Freed lowers his blade, feeling the magical compulsion to obey Laxus lift from him. It doesn’t actually change how he feels pretty much all the time very much at all.

 

“I’m forfeiting. I’ll come with you, to your house, and stop staying out here in the woods if that’s really what you want, but no matter what, I wanted that spell gone!”

 

“Why?” asks Freed curiously.

 

“Because,” grins Laxus wickedly, “when I really do order you to get down on your knees and suck my cock for me, I want to know you’re choosing to obey me. It’s no fun to punish you for messin’ anything up if magic’s making sure you can’t .”

 

Freed Justine has never cast his teleportation runes so fast in his entire life.

Chapter Text

Appearing just inside his own front door has never been disorienting to Freed before. Now, his head spins a little, the world seeming to tilt alarmingly on its axis as, the moment he feels the floor solid underneath him, he’s spun around and slammed up against the wall. A short, shocked cry is cut off by a large, muscular body crowding against him. Laxus leans down with a crooked smirk on his handsome face and covers Freed’s gasping mouth with his own. Laxus’ lips are warm and dry and firm against his own. He kisses the way he seems to do everything, putting all of himself into it, taking total control of the kiss from the very first moment. All Freed can do is hang on and get swept along for the ride. For the first time, he can actually imagine Laxus doing...other things, dirtier things, with the same intensity and singularity of focus. Doing those things to Freed.

 

Laxus has, of course, been the exclusive star of Freed’s solo fantasies for several years now, but because he’s always believed anything more than friendship to be an impossibility, those fantasies have been limited. Freed’s forced himself to keep them that way, in hopes of possibly not driving himself insane with grief and want. He’s been able to imagine Laxus alone, imagine what he might look like touching himself, and that in and of itself has always been a heady thought. And he’s been able to imagine himself...naked and waiting, about to be ravished. Or tied up and helpless. Or bent over a table, his pants yanked down, because he’s been so awfully bad….and in those fantasies, it’s always been a given that he’s waiting for Laxus, that it’s Laxus who will do terrible, perverted things to him. But he’s never quite been able to picture them together in those fantasies. It would have been too painful. But now…

 

Strong fingers card through his hair, then very slowly tighten into a fist. Freed whimpers helplessly as the tug against his scalp makes his knees tremble. This is actually happening. Laxus is really here. Kissing him. Kissing Freed. On purpose, completely sober, without any magical influence whatsoever, and showing no signs of stopping. Laxus hums deep in his chest.

 

“Yeah, that. I like that sound. I think you’re going to be making a lot more sounds like that.”

 

“Ngh,” whimpers Freed.

 

“Freed,” says Laxus, turning suddenly serious and standing up straight. “Freed, look at me.”

 

Freed blinks up at Laxus in confusion. He’s frowning, and because this already seems unreal to him anyway, Freed’s heart clutches in his chest yet again that Laxus is surely changing his mind. Laxus chuckles softly and shakes his head.

 

“Is there somewhere in this house besides your foyer we could maybe talk for a minute? Because really, as much as I’d like to just be corrupting the hell out of you right now, I think that would make me kind of an asshole.”

 

“No it wouldn’t,” says Freed passionately, then blushes like a complete fool, because of course Laxus is right. So he leads the way into the sitting room with its big, comfortable couches and squashy armchairs, and the fireplace with its lovely green marble mantlepiece he’d found and had to have because some of the tones in the marble are the same color as his hair, and where he keeps a few of his favorite books so that he can curl up beside the fire to read at night. Freed loves this room. It’s nothing like the sitting room in the house where he grew up, cold and formal and terribly correct. It’s a room for actually sitting in, and being comfortable, whether you’re by yourself or receiving company. Except Freed’s never received any company here before. Seeing Laxus stride over and sit in the big red armchair by the fire, Freed’s favorite chair, is almost surreal to him. As though it can’t possibly be real, and Laxus is surely going to vanish at any moment. Freed finds it suddenly overwhelming. Tears sting his eyes again and he sinks abruptly to his knees in front of his thunder god, almost as if there is some part of himself that feels like, through some act of piety he might be found worthy enough for Laxus to not vanish. For this not to be a dream, because surely that’s what it is, and Freed is going to wake up at any moment and none of it will have been real.

 

Except Laxus doesn’t vanish. His fingers stroke through Freed’s hair again, and over his cheek, then lift his chin so that Freed must look up into those electric blue eyes, and he sees the lightning flashing in them, the way it only does when Laxus is very angry or very passionate about something.

 

“Freed,” he says urgently, “I need you to be sure.

 

“I’m sure,” says Freed instantly. God, he’s never been more sure of anything in his life, even if he’s only got a general idea of what it is he’s being sure about. Laxus huffs out a short laugh.

 

“Damn. Just...damn.”

 

“Is...is something wrong?” asks Freed cautiously. Laxus shakes his head.

 

“No. No, it’s not….Guess I just never thought I’d see you this way. On your knees like that. Not that I haven’t thought about it, I just…” Laxus shakes his head.

 

“S-so all this time,” whispers Freed hesitantly, his hands clasped together in his lap so tightly his fingers are bloodless, “you….you didn’t actually think I was….”

 

“Unappealing?” supplies Laxus. Freed nods. “God. No. I just....you’re so elegant, Freed. The way you talk is so proper, and you’re always put together just right. And you turn red the second anybody says anything that sounds even a little bit dirty. I just...it wasn’t worth losing you as my friend, and as my most trusted Raijinshu…”

 

His most trusted? Freed’s not honestly sure his heart can take any more happiness today, even if it’s all been awfully confusing, and he’s still not entirely certain Laxus isn’t going to change his mind and leave any minute. But the person he loves the most finds him appealing. And calls Freed his friend, and says that he trusts Freed the most of all the Thunder Legion! It’s like Christmas and his birthday rolled into one.

 

“You won’t,” he says fiercely. “You couldn’t. No matter what, Laxus, I will never stop being your Raijinshu. I gave you my word of honor, my vow, and I’ll never betray that vow.”

 

“I know, Freed,” says Laxus softly. “And that’s most of why I never let myself touch you before. I just….I really did believe that the things I like….the things I want in a lover….that they’d be way too much for you. And that once I’d fucked things up between us, you’d be stuck by my side anyway, because I know how much your honor means to you. And I never want to make you feel that way. So...I just need to know for sure. That this really is what you want, and you’re not just saying it because you have these feelings for me. Because I don’t hold back, Freed.”

 

Freed blinks up at him in surprise, because this honestly just hadn’t even occurred to him.

 

“No. No matter how much I want...to be with you….” he says haltingly, “I wouldn’t lie. Especially not to you. I...all of those things you said about me are true. I...I like elegant things, and I try to look my best, and I know that the way I speak is generally somewhat more...refined...than the speech of most of our guild mates. But those are surface things. They don’t….that’s not the way I really am. Inside.”

 

“So on the inside,  you’re really just a dirty little boy, is that what you’re trying to tell me?” teases Laxus, smirking a little. Freed’s cheeks turn pink. His hair falls over his face as he ducks his head and nods, unable to even agree out loud. “Then why do you act so horrified and embarrassed about dirty talk?”

 

“O-oh,” says Freed, sighing. “Well...that’s an embarrassing story in and of itself. Y-you see, I think I’ve always known there was something...different...about me. Once when I was smaller… I don’t remember how old I was for sure. Eight? Ten? Anyway...my….my governess caught me looking at a dirty magazine….”

 

“Really? Which one?” asks Laxus with a soft laugh. Freed covers his face with his hands.

 

“I-it was called...S...Schoolboy?” he whispers.

 

“Heh. I know that one. I even think I’ve got a few old issues of it layin’ around somewhere,” says Laxus. “It’s a gay bondage mag, right?”

 

“Oh god,” whimpers Freed, covering his face with his hands. Then he steels himself, drops his hands, and continues. “My governess, she...she took it away, and told my mother. My mother, she...she told me I was filthy. That...that a Justine must never stoop to such a level. She made me take a bath in water so hot it almost burned me, and she...she scrubbed me all over with the burning lye soap. All over. And...and she brought our priest to the house to give me my own special sermon on perverted kinds of sin.”

 

“Freed…” whispers Laxus, sounding genuinely upset, but Freed holds up his hand, because if he’s telling this awful story, he needs to finish it as quickly as possible.

 

“My father, he came to talk to me too. It was a little different. He said...it was all right to have one or two dirty little secrets, but because of who I was, who our family was, the important thing was to make sure no one ever found out. Only people who were well p-paid for their s-services and understood the importance of their silence. So...so in the space of about a week, I learned to be ashamed of my desires, that they were evil, and that no one should ever know. I’m pretty sure that makes it not so surprising that it’s...hard for me to talk about.”

 

“Are you on speaking terms with your family?” Laxus’ question is gritted out between his teeth, and when Freed dares a quick glance up at him, he’s startled to see that Laxus looks genuinely angry.

 

“Well...no. They weren’t happy with me choosing to pursue magic as a career rather than take over the family business. The money I have, this house...it came from my Grandfather, when he died. I received a trust fund I was granted access to when I turned 18. I haven’t seen my parents since I came to Magnolia and joined Fairy Tail when I was 16. Um. Why?”

 

“Good,” says Laxus coldly. “Because if I don’t...completely scare you away in the first day, or week maybe, I really don’t think I could go to a family dinner and sit through it without telling those assholes what I think of them!”

 

Freed completely fails to even register what Laxus is saying, beyond the astonishing, miraculous and thrilling fact that Laxus is mentioning family dinners and doing so in a completely offhand way as if they’re some kind of inevitability.

 

“You won’t have to do that,” breathes Freed.

 

“They were wrong, you know,” Laxus bursts our fiercely. Freed blinks at him in surprise.

 

“I...yes, I do know that. I’m not that….humiliated and ashamed little boy anymore. I know there’s...nothing wrong with me. For...for having these kinds of desires….”

 

“What kinds of desires, Freed?” asks Laxus in a low voice, leaning forward in his chair, his blue eyes very, very intense. Freed swallows hard and blushes even harder.

 

“It...I’m just still not...very good at talking about it,” he gasps. Laxus grins.

 

“It’s sexy,” he growls softly. “Seein’ you all flustered like that. And Freed?”

 

“Y-yes?”

 

“Now that I know what it means when you blush and stammer and rush out of the room? That it’s not because you’re horrified. Oh no...that it’s because your naughty little prick is getting all hard and wet in your pretty, fancy pants?”

 

“Hah…”

 

“Let’s just say you’re not gonna be getting away with that anymore. Like you’re not gonna be backing out of this either, not when you’re this cute when your face is all red and your hands are shaking like that. Tell me, Freed. What kinds. Of desires.”

 

Oh god. Freed wonders desperately if it’s actually possible to just come in his pants on the spot, and whether he’d die of embarrassment if he did. He knows he doesn’t have a choice, not when Laxus has made it an order that way. His face feels so hot it’s like the time he was small and had a fever, his body burning so badly the air around him had felt cold. His lips feel funny, a little bit numb, but buzzing, as if he’s been blowing too hard on a horn for too long a time. Even though he’s already kneeling, Freed sways gently. He feels Laxus’ hands catch him. They’re warm through his shirt, so strong. So much power in those hands. He realizes then that he’s sagged forwards, and that his forehead is resting on Laxus’ knee. He sighs softly. This is better. He’s touching Laxus, and Laxus is touching him, and now he thinks he can find the words. It helps a little, too, that he doesn’t have to look the other man in the eye from this position.

 

“I have known for many years,” he says softly, “that what I really wanted more than anything was to belong to someone. Someone strong, worthy, who would know how to handle me. Who would do with me as they pleased. Corrupt me, make me filthy….I knew I wouldn’t mind, if it was for them. Th...they would….tie me down and use me for their pleasure. And...and they’d. Oh god. They’d p-punish me...sometimes when I was bad, but sometimes just because they wanted to, because it would please them.”

 

Fuck ,” says Laxus fervently. Freed lifts his head and looks up. Laxus’ eyes are the color of a stormy sky at night, flashes of lightning flaring quick and hot before giving way to shadow once more.

 

“The moment I met you, I knew I wanted it to be you,” whispers Freed.

 

“I really am an idiot,” Laxus says with a rueful quirk of his mouth. “All that time wasted.”

 

“You...you’re not...put off, by what I said?”

 

“Put off? Put off ? Goddamn, Freed, the way you talk sometimes.” He reaches down and snatches one of Freed’s wrists out of his lap, and before Freed has time to register what’s happening, Laxus has pressed Freed’s hand hard against his own crotch. Where Freed can feel Laxus’ erection, thick and warm and very solid under his palm. “Do I feel put off to you?”

 

“Oh, I….No?” says Freed, wondering if he’s allowed to move his hand or not, because his fingers are itching to stroke and pet the hardness in Laxus’ trousers. But before he drums up the courage to do it, Laxus stands up abruptly, and holds out his hand to Freed. A tiny, glad cry escapes Freed’s throat before he can think to stop it as he takes his Master’s hand.

 

“Bedroom,” says Laxus gruffly.

 

“I...I’m sorry?”

 

“Your bedroom. Where is it? That’s where I want to go,” says Laxus, chuckling at him again, but Freed doesn’t mind.

 

“Oh. Yes! It’s….upstairs. The first door on the left,” he replies quickly. Laxus leads him there, and Freed doesn’t care that it’s his house, because it feels so much more right this way, for Laxus to lead him there. He stumbles a little on the stairs, but Laxus catches his elbow and doesn’t let him fall.

 

Freed’s bedroom is almost nothing like the one he’d grown up in. Oh, it is luxurious. Freed loves his luxuries, and isn’t sorry he can afford them. His Grandfather had loved him, and they’d shared a love of books and poetry, as well as a love of various arts of sword fighting. Grandfather had given Freed his first sword when he was only seven, a small rapier without a sharp edge so the small boy wouldn’t hurt himself with it, and taught him how to use it. He’d been interested in magic too, and supported Freed’s interest in it. He can remember a conversation they’d had, a couple of months before the old man had died. There’d been a terrible row at home, when he’d drummed up the courage to tell his parents that he had no desire to follow in his father’s footsteps into the world of finance, but planned to seek out a magic guild at which to apprentice himself. Their recriminations and threats of disownment echoing loud in his ears, he’d fled to his Grandfather’s estate and confessed everything.

 

“Good for you,” the old man had said, gripping his shoulder as tightly as his aged hand would allow. “Don’t let them turn you into their puppet, my lad, the way I let my father do to me. Follow your dreams! And don’t you worry about their money. Everything I have is going to you, not to my stuffy snot of a son and his gold digging wife. You’ll be able to do what you want to do. Just you make sure you do it well , Freed. And make sure you do it without regret.”

 

Freed’s house is as much a tribute to his Grandfather’s admonition to live his life well as anything. The carpet on his bedroom’s floor is thick and soft as velvet under one’s toes. It has a beautiful pattern of rich jewel tones that match the rich blue spread on his big four poster bed with its multi-colored fluffy pillows. There’s a fireplace in here too, and shelves filled with books and dozens of odds and ends of pretty or interesting things he’s collected when he’s gone on missions. Laxus is eyeing his bed with approval.

 

He leads Freed to stand beside it, then turns to face him. His fingers on Freed’s face are gentle, tracing the lines and curves of the smaller man’s features with his callused fingertips for a few moments while Freed waits breathlessly. Then one hand slides into the softness of Freed’s long green hair and tugs his head back. He leans down and kisses Freed again, his tongue sweeping in to claim and plunder Freed’s mouth. Freed clutches the front of Laxus’ shirt and kisses his back eagerly, hoping he’s not awful at it, but if the low rumble in Laxus’ chest is any indication he must not be too horrible, even with his lack of experience. When Laxus breaks the kiss, Freed is panting and more than a little dizzy. Laxus steps back and looks him over, his gaze dark and possessive on Freed’s body.

 

“This is your last chance,” he warns, his voice a low, bass growl in his throat.

 

“I won’t,” gasps Freed, lifting his chin and looking Laxus in the eye. Truthfully, he’s terrified, but he’s also never been more certain of anything in his life.

 

“Good,” purrs Laxus. His hands drift to his own waist, where he very slowly begins to unbuckle his own belt. “Then get down on your knees, little boy.”

Chapter Text

Freed has seen penises in his life. For most of his life. Public baths are are common thing, and he’s been to many. He’s pretty sure he’s actually seen every single male member of Fairy Tail naked at least once, most of them a lot more than that. He’s even seen Laxus nude before, and washed his back for him! Of course, out of respect for his idol, he never allowed himself to look directly at Laxus’...er….privates, yes, that’s safe. Respect, and for his own sanity’s sake. And because he’s a private person and easily embarrassed, he realizes he’s also pretty carefully avoided looking directly at anybody else’s genitals either. But he’s damned well acquainted with his own, and what it looks like under pretty much every possible circumstance! So of course he’s prepared when Laxus unbuckles his belt, slowly unfastens his flies, rearranges them a little, and slides his hand inside while staring down at Freed, kneeling obediently in front of him and trying not to shake like a leaf. Of course he’s prepared when Laxus slowly draws his erection free from the confines of his trousers and it’s there, right in front of Freed’s face, dusky red at the tip and shining with moisture and….

 

And….

 

And….

 

Freed’s utterly and completely unprepared. He’s been telling himself for quite some time now that of course Laxus is likely to be….well, proportionate to the rest of his body. Telling himself that, however, has been woefully inadequate to allow him to accurately develop a mental image of Laxus’....er….endowment.

 

There is no way, thinks Freed , that.that THING is fitting inside my body ! Because however inexperienced he is, Freed does have at least theoretical knowledge of how sex between men is supposed to work. He’s certainly spent enough time thinking about it. He hears Laxus chuckle again, and thinks a little wildly that he’s both never going to get used to it and that it’s possibly the best sound in the world, that low, wicked laugh that does crazy things to Freed’s insides, tightening his belly, causing a tremulous golden heat to pool inside him, coiling sinuous and threatening and delicious around his spine. Laxus’ soft, dark laughter alone binds Freed almost as securely as any physical bonds. Oh, escape would be impossible now.

 

“Don’t be afraid.” Laxus’ voice is deep, rumbling in his chest like far off thunder. Freed’s always loved thunderstorms. He loves being wrapped up all cozy and warm at home and listening to them rumble around him. Laxus’ voice wraps him up the same way, and some of his fear abates at the sound alone. “I won’t hurt you more than you can stand, Freed. Okay?” Freed nods breathlessly. “Good. But if I do, all you’ve got to do is say a word to let me know I need to stop. It can be any word, as long as it’s not something you’d ever say when we’re….together like this, right?”

 

“I...I couldn’t just...say stop?” asks Freed, a little confused. Laxus grins crookedly in a way that makes Freed’s already aching cock twitch again in his pants at the things that look promises.

 

“That depends,” he says in a low voice, stepping a little closer so that the head of his cock is nearly brushing Freed’s trembling lips. “If that’s what you want, then that’s fine. But if you want to be able to beg, Freed….to beg me for mercy, to cry and squeal and know that I’m going to do whatever I want to do to you anyway? Then ‘stop’ isn’t going to cut it. Some people like that. It’s okay if you don’t…”

 

Freed closes his eyes and sways alarmingly as the images Laxus’ words evoke fill his brains. He reaches out with one hand and clutches Laxus’ trousers to keep from pitching over face first. Oh god yes, he wants that.

 

“Lightning,” he gasps.

 

“All right,” agrees Laxus, humor warming his voice. “But understand this Freed. I’m going to ignore everything you say except that. You can beg and plead with me to stop, but I won’t. No matter what you say. I’ll just keep going, wrecking you, owning you. Because you’re mine now.”

 

“Oh yes, please,” whispers Freed fervently.

 

“Unless you use that word, and then I’ll stop. I’ll always stop, no matter what I’m doing. Even if I’m two seconds away from coming, I’ll stop. That’s my promise to you, Freed, my word of honor, a vow I’ll never break. So you’ll know you’re always safe, no matter how intense things may get. You always have the power to stop it. My oath on it, Freed. Okay?”

 

“Oh!” This is startling to Freed, who hadn’t ever considered this sort of possibility, that he’d have this kind of power, and for a moment he frowns, not liking it. But then he relaxes, because he’s not stupid. Of course he knows there’s a difference between fantasy and reality, a big difference, and this is only sense. He feels absurdly touched that Laxus is looking out for his safety this way, and trying to make sure he feels secure, to alleviate his worries. What Laxus doesn’t understand is that the only worry Freed has is that Laxus is going to change his mind. As far as Freed’s concerned, Laxus can do anything he wants. Freed is willing to put himself into this man’s hands completely, without hesitation. He’s been dreaming about it for so long.

 

“Freed?”

 

“Oh. Yes. Yes, all right.”

 

“Now let’s see how good you follow orders without your magic to help you. Freed, listen to me. I don’t want you to worry about how good at it you are. It’s hot as hell to me just looking at you like this, on your knees for me. I don’t want to come like this anyway, I just want to feel your mouth on me.”

 

Freed lets out a sigh of relief, because he has been worrying about this, to tell the truth. Worrying about it rather a lot. He knows Laxus has had more than his share of lovers, and there’s no way in hell Freed’s complete lack of any experience whatsoever is going to compare to that. He just knows he’s going to be horribly awkward, and only hopes he’s not going to make Laxus laugh. Or lose interest altogether and go home. Except Laxus doesn’t have a home to go to right now.

 

“Open your mouth, little boy,” purrs Laxus in a low growl, “and suck me.”

 

Freed inhales sharply and swallows hard. He gives a short, quick nod, his eyes darting up to glance at Laxus’ face.

 

“Yes, Master,” he whispers breathlessly, not even considering the weight of his choice of words, but Laxus sucks in air sharply through his nose and lets out a soft hum of pleasure. Freed’s been referring to Laxus this way for a long time now, to the leader of the Thunder Legion...No, if he’s being honest, and they both seem to be trying to do that tonight, in his heart it’s been as excuse to use a title he’s longed to have a different meaning, and it’s a meaning it seems Laxus doesn’t actually mind one bit.

 

Freed leans forward hesitantly and sticks out his tongue. Carefully, tentatively, he licks the broad, fat head of Laxus’ cock, lapping up the small bead of shining moisture gathering at the slit. It coats his tongue with a flavor that is a little salty, slightly bitter, somewhat musky, and entirely Laxus. Freed’s long, dark lashes flutter down to cover his lovely teal green eyes and he can’t hold back the helpless moan of basest need as the taste of this man he’s loved for so long, and he’s thought so in vain, seems to flood his every sense.

 

“Ngh, fuck,” mutters Laxus. “Damn. Don’t do that, Freed. You want me to come all over your face before you even get started?”

 

Freed backs off an inch or two and rolls his eyes up to peek up at Laxus through his bangs, his lips still parted. He blushes at himself for even daring to say what comes to mind, but the thought that he’s actually turning Laxus on so much is a heady thing, so he finds that he dares more than he’s ever dreamed he might.

 

“Would you like to?” he asks shyly. Laxus slams his eyes shut and growls softly. Static crackles along his skin for a few seconds, making Freed’s own skin tingle in response, but Laxus grits his teeth and shuts it down again.

 

“Dirty boy,” he says softly, his voice the low rumble of far-off thunder. His mouth curls up on one side, and the fact that it’s awfully similar to the smile he gets just before a fight he’s particularly looking forward to isn’t lost on Freed. He’s still shivering a little with the illicit thrill of that smile when Laxus’ fingers fist tight in his hair. His head is yanked back and they are nose to nose. Laxus’ eyes have gone the steel-grey of stormy skies, and glitter dangerously as he forces Freed to look at him. The air in his bedroom smells faintly of ozone.

 

“Ah,” gasps Freed.

 

“Little boys who tease,” purrs Laxus, nearly against Freed’s lips, “are punished.”

 

Freed has no idea what to say to this. It’s not a question. That’s probably a good thing anyway, because he’s not entirely sure he could formulate a response at this precise moment anyway. He whimpers again, which doesn’t seem to be a bad choice, as Laxus’ wicked smile widens.

 

“Is that what you want, Freed?”

 

“Ngh,” says Freed eloquently.

 

“I think you’re going to have to do a little better than that.”

 

“Hah...ah…,” gasps Freed, grasping desperately for language skills which have eluded him. “I...I think so? B-but I...I really want to...to t-taste you….too.”

 

Laxus huffs a soft laugh against Freed’s mouth and kisses him once, then lets go of his hair and straightens.

 

“Fuck. I’m so fucked it’s not even funny. Yeah, I really want you to too.”

 

“You do ?”

 

“Been thinkin’ about it for a long time. You look...damn, just as good as I thought you would, on your knees. I want you to, Freed, I….hah!” Laxus stops talking on a short, shocked sounding exclamation when Freed, mostly out of desperation that Laxus not see the ridiculous tears that sting his eyes at these words, leans forwards and sucks the head of the taller man’s cock into his mouth without letting him finish. In reality, he hadn’t really anticipated it being surprising enough or….dare he even hope, nice enough, to have the power to make Laxus stop talking. But it does. Laxus breathes harshly, and one hand gropes behind him to curl into a fist in the soft covering of Freed’s bed. Hoping this is a good sign, Freed closes his eyes and sucks a little harder, opening his jaws as wide as he can and lowering his mouth farther down the thick shaft between his lips. He can’t get very far, honestly, before this starts to ache, so he reaches up tentatively with both hands. One of them curls around the waistband of Laxus’ trousers, while the other closes, with fingers that hopefully only tremble a little bit, around the rather frighteningly broad base of Laxus’ erection. It jumps in his hand, and Freed finds this fascinating. Eventually he has to pull back when his eyes start to water, and he winces when his top teeth scrape a little.

 

“God, I’m sorry,” he whispers.

 

“”S okay,” says Laxus through his teeth. “Some guys. Don’t like it. I’m not. Hn. Not one of them. Freed?”

 

“Oh. Yes?”

 

“Just use your tongue for a minute. No, you can keep your hand there too…”

 

“Please...keep doing that. Telling me what to do. The...the things you like. I want to learn all of them,” whispers Freed, then obediently licks all over Laxus’ erection like it’s his favorite damn flavor of ice cream. Laxus laughs breathlessly.

 

“If you think. I’ve got the patience. For... fuck ...all of them right now, you’re outta your damn mind,” mutters Laxus, but he shows Freed the places where he’s the most sensitive, and the breathless way he curses is one of the best things Freed’s ever heard in his whole life. He’s so intent on his task, has become so lost in it in fact, that he doesn’t hear Laxus at first when he’s told to stop. “Freed! I said stop ,” Laxus growls a little louder. Freed sits back on his heels, blinking up at him a little dazedly. How had he not even noticed Laxus taking off his shirt? He staggers a little when Laxus helps him stand up, but those powerful hands steady him again, and he allows himself the luxury of leaning into that strength just a little. He finds himself blinking again in surprise when his own shirt falls to puddle on the floor around his feet. It feels like a very long time ago now that Laxus had ordered him to unbutton it.

 

The sound he makes when Laxus spins them suddenly and pushes him backwards is probably not at all dignified, but he doesn’t really have time to be embarrassed about it, because Laxus follows him down, and his mouth on Freed’s is hot and hungry. He sucks Freed’s bottom lip softly between his teeth and nips at the plumpness of the flesh he’s captured, his mouth curling again into that dangerous smirk that does insane things to Freed’s insides when Freed whimpers again at the feel of Laxus’ teeth on him. Laxus lets go, his grin widening.

 

“Yeah, need to hear that one a lot more,” he mutters, then he moves a little, and his teeth are scraping down Freed’s throat, nipping bitey kisses into Freed’s collarbone. When his hot mouth closes around the smaller man’s left nipple, Freed definitely makes more of those sounds Laxus seems to like to much. His mouth is gentle at first, the tip of his tongue stroking softly over the tight peak, then sucking softly. Freed’s hands sink helplessly into Laxus’ hair when he feels the edge of those teeth gently meet the puckered nub between his lips. Freed can’t honestly remember if he’s ever paid much attention to his own nipples before, and if he had brain cells to spare for actual thought, he’d probably be wondering what on earth world could have been wrong with him. But he hasn’t, because all he’s really capable of at the moment is feeling. Laxus’ teeth bear down slowly, and even though his eyes are slammed shut tight he can feel the older wizard watching him intently with blazing eyes. Watching him, watching the play of emotion and expression on his face as those teeth tighten, biting harder bit by bit as Freed gasps and squirms beneath him, watching intently until Freed cries out and stiffens a little and pain flickers across his mobile face and his hands flex in Laxus’s hair (and through all of it Freed still manages to be startled by how soft Laxus’s hair feels against the palms of his hands and between his fingers when it turns out it really is just electricity that makes it stick out in mad points like that, and not some kind of magical hair product), and then he holds right there, right at the point of pain. When he finally backs off, they’re both panting. He does the same thing to Freed’s other nipple, only this time his knee slides up between Freed’s legs, forcing them apart roughly, and presses against the fork of his legs, grinding gently while he bites. Freed’s cry this time is frantic.

 

“L-Laxus, please! I...I’m going to….”

 

“Oh no you’re not,” growls Laxus, sitting up on his heels abruptly. Freed pants in confusion and looks up at him, his head spinning a little, aching terribly at being stopped this close to the edge of release. “Let’s see if you can still follow orders when you’re like this,” muses Laxus with another smirk. “Unfasten your pants.”

 

Freed’s hands move instantly to the buttons of his flies and go to work on them, and he throws out a prayer to whatever gods may be listening that the pressure of merely unbuttoning them won’t make him come in his pants before he’s even finished. He’s so hard he hurts, and has been for what seems like hours, and simply being here in his bed with this man is close to enough to bring him off just thinking about it, but with Laxus looking at him like that ? Still, imagining his own humiliation is enough to prevent it, and he manages to yank and tug all the buttons loose.

 

“Good boy,” whispers Laxus. Then yanks them down his legs and off. This would, again, be another of those mortifying moments, but Laxus doesn’t give him time to be embarrassed. “So pretty,” he says softly.

 

“I...wh-what?”

 

“Your cock,” Laxus offers simply. “I knew it would be. Damn. Looks kinda painful though…”

 

Freed moans and covers his face with his hands, because even though every honest thing they’ve managed to say to each other tonight has led from one good thing to the next, he’s still not quite to the point of looking Laxus straight in the eye when he does it.

 

“It is,” he admits, his voice muffled by his hands a bit. “Honestly, I’m not sure how I’ve managed not to completely humiliate myself by now.”

 

“You really that turned on?”

 

“I...I almost came in my pants back in the woods , Master. I’ve….honestly lost count of how many times since then.”

 

“Yeah? Y’know somethin.? I’ve always gotten off on getting my partners as hot as I could get them. It’s part of it for me, I guess,” muses Laxus, which gives Freed a small stab of pain in the middle of his chest. “But nothing, and nobody , has ever turned me on as much as seein’ you want me this much.”

 

“Rea...really?” asks Freed, cracking open one eye to peer at Laxus a little suspiciously.

 

“Yeah, really. But I’ve got a little more practice than you dealing with that, and’ I gotta be honest with you, Freed. You’re not gonna last through everything I wanna do to you.”

 

“I’m sorry,” whispers Freed, flushing in humiliation. Is this the part where Laxus changes his mind and decides he prefers a more experienced lover after all? All of Freed’s self-doubt and recrimination flies out the window on a short-shocked howl when something warm and hot and wet surrounds his quivering, aching flesh. His eyes fly open in shock, but he can only see the top of Laxus’ head. Oh gods, thinks Freed hysterically, that’s. His. MOUTH. “Laxus,” he cries frantically, “s-stop! You….wait! NO!”

 

Laxus backs off, letting Freed’s cock slide out of his mouth with an obscene pop. He raises an eyebrow.

 

“Somethin’ wrong?” he asks with an evil grin, leaning down to lick a slow stripe up the underside of Freed’s erection.

 

“I can’t,” gasps Freed. “Laxus, I…”

 

“Freed, stop. I’m not doing this to be mean to you. I just think...well, I think if you come by accident when we’re….when I’m doing stuff to you that isn’t maybe intended to make you come, then it’d make you feel bad. And unless you’ve got some kinda weird condition I don’t know about, I’m gonna go way out on a limb and bet you’ve probably got more than one shot in you tonight. So if I make you come now on purpose , then you won’t be worrying about it, and maybe you’ll be able to relax a little.”

 

“Oh,” says Freed, because this is actually hard to argue with.

 

“And Freed?”

 

“Y-yes?”

 

“You’re really gonna want to be able to relax when it’s time for me to fuck you.”

 

“Oh god, ” groans Freed, and is too busy being transported by the mental images this brings him to even think about stopping Laxus when he pins Freed’s hips to the bed and sucks him down again. Oh, oh it’s too much. This is something Freed would have never dared to imagine, in all of his wildest imaginings. It seems somehow obscene to him, for Laxus to be doing this to him, and yet it feels too good for him to come up with words to stop Laxus, and moments later he’s too busy letting out a sharp, helpless cry and coming harder than he’s ever come in his life. In Laxus’ mouth , except Laxus doesn’t seem to mind one bit and swallows Freed down whole, humming low in his chest as if it pleases him. He sucks Freed dry at last and lets go, rolling onto his side and leaning on his elbow to grin smugly down at the smaller man, his free hand playing absently with tousled strands of emerald green hair while Freed covers his face with his arm and shivers and flushes with shocked embarrassment.

 

“Hey. You okay?”  

 

“I...I...yes? I don’t know,” admits Freed. Laxus chuckles softly and takes hold of his wrist, the one attached to the arm covering his face. It’s a little depressing how easy it is for Laxus to force him to move it, but it’s thrilling too. Laxus kisses him again, and Freed finds the taste of himself in the other man’s mouth scandalous and exciting at the same time.

 

“What’s wrong then?”

 

“I...I’m not sure if I ought to have en-enjoyed that. So much.”

 

“What? Why not?”

 

“I just….Shouldn’t it be me who….I mean, it’s so….so…” Freed searches for the right words, but his brain still isn’t quite firing on all of its cylinders, so they fail him. Laxus, however, seems to understand.

 

“You were gonna use one of those words like ‘unseemly’ again weren’t you?” When Freed nods, Laxus just laughs at him. “Look, Freed. You may have some...preconceived ideas of how relationships like this work, but you should probably just toss ‘em out, okay? I do what I want. If I wanna suck your dick or...tongue-fuck your asshole, I’m gonna do it, and there’s only one way you can stop me.”

 

Freed can’t think of a single thing to say in reply to this. Laxus glances down and laughs softly.

 

“Two minutes, huh? That’s some pretty impressive recovery time.”

 

“I’m pretty sure it’s only because it’s you,” whispers Freed.

 

“Good,” growls Laxus. “That’s good. Freed?”

 

“Y-yes?”

 

“D’you want to...need to...go clean up a bit?”

 

“I….what?” Laxus’ question confuses him at first. The dragonslayer’s grin at his confusion is amused and wicked.

 

“Well see….I’m gonna put my hands on you again pretty soon. And I’m gonna do something to make sure you can’t get away from me even if you try. And after that, I’m not gonna let you go again until after I’ve come in your ass at least once. So I just thought I’d ask if you…”

 

“Oh!” cries Freed, chagrin bringing yet another blush to his face. Of course he should have known Laxus would be like this, would say such startling and terrifying and exciting things. He hadn’t known though, and he has no defense against it, and even less against Laxus’ surprising candor and how oddly solicitous he’s being of Freed’s feelings and sensibilities. “I...yes. Thank you. I….I’ll...I won’t be a moment.”

 

He slips from the bed, thankful that his legs do actually support him, and hurries to the adjoining restroom. He can hear Laxus moving a little as he splashes water on his face, chanting under his breath and scribing runes with fingers that only shake a little bit. Letter magic is useful for a great many things which have nothing whatsoever to do with combat. Freed doesn’t generally use it for things like personal hygiene, considering that a waste of magic energy under most circumstances, but these are possibly the most special circumstances of his life. He’s desperately grateful to Laxus for thinking of something like this, because how humiliating! He looks at his own face in the mirror as he casts, and is shocked by his own reflection. He almost doesn’t recognize the face staring back at him, so accustomed is he to his own ever-present personal melancholy. The ache in his heart that has been his certainty that Laxus would never be more than comrade to him, more than a leader, a friend….he’d been telling himself every day for the past 4 years that it was enough...he’s grown used to it. It has become such an accepted part of himself that the face staring back at him from the mirror, luminous with happiness, looks almost alien to him. Laxus wants me , he thinks, and it’s so fantastic, so nearly unbelievable except that there is the proof of it written clearly on Freed’s clear, fair skin...redness scraped into his flesh by Laxus’ teeth, his bitten lip and nipples swollen and a little sore, faint blue marks on his hips already showing where Laxus had pinned him down when he...when he...Oh! Freed hastily reworks the spell he’s been creating, horrified at what his still-dazed mental state has almost allowed him to do. Good grief, if I’d cast it like that, I’d have erased all of it!


He hears a creak from the bed in the other room and startles a little, stops staring at himself in the mirror. Mentally checking the runes he’s scribed, he nods to himself and casts them on himself. They glow purple in the air and on his skin, sinking in. He feels a tiny tingle at their passage. Clean, he thinks, blushing at himself, inside and out . But not unblemished. The evidence that Laxus has touched him is still there. He brushes his fingertips over his left nipple, feeling the faint soreness there, and shivers. When he turns to face the door, he shivers again, for different reasons. Everything he’s ever wanted is waiting for him on the other side of that door, and probably a lot more besides. “If I want to tongue fuck your asshole…” Would Laxus really do something like that ? Laxus will do anything he want to do. And you’ll let him. Well, probably not anything , because in spite of how much he loves the tall, powerful dragonslayer, Freed Justine will never allow himself to be abused, but he’s not afraid of that. Not with this man. Not with the promise Laxus has made him to always, always stop, no matter what, if Freed only says that one word, riding warm and secure in his heart. He’s nervous, he realizes, but not really afraid. And he has to be completely honest with himself. He finds the rest of that promise just as thrilling. That no matter what else Freed says, Laxus won’t stop. Taking a deep, shuddering breath, Freed opens the door.

Chapter Text

Laxus is waiting for him, lying on his side on Freed’s bed as though he belongs there (and in his more honest and depressing moments in the past, Freed has been able to admit to himself that the bed he’d chosen for his bedroom is way too big for him alone, and that he’d chosen this one not only for how wide and long it is, but for how sturdy it is too, only now he’s glad he did). He’s taken off his trousers and is wearing only his shorts, which do little to conceal the thick, intimidating ridge of his erection held tight against his groin and the clearly defined muscles of his lower abdomen. He’s holding his belt in his hands, running it meditatively through his fingers, and staring hotly at Freed. Sparks dance in his eyes, still stormcloud grey. He smirks again, and his golden head lifts a little as he inhales. The tattoos on his chest and shoulder seem alive as he shifts, and raises his arm to beckon Freed to come closer, teeth flashing whitely in the shadows of the room as he grins.

 

“You used your magic,” he says softly as Freed stumbles to him and Laxus pulls him down onto the bed.

 

“I...yes. I didn’t want to keep you waiting,” admits Freed, flushing a little.

 

“Probably should keep that nifty little spell to yourself,” mutters Laxus into his hair, breathing deeply, which makes Freed shudder again. “You could make a fortune, but you’d never have a minute for yourself, if word got out. Or for me,” he adds, and Freed thrills all over at the hint of dark possessiveness in Laxus’ voice.

 

“It’s rather a waste of magic energy under most circumstances,” whispers Freed. “But I don’t think I’m in any danger of being attacked for the next little while…” Laxus growls and sets his teeth gently against Freed’s shoulder.

 

“I wouldn’t be too sure of that ,” he says, his voice a low, rumbling baritone that vibrates Freed’s bones. The rune mage feels Laxus’ sharp canine teeth brush his skin and gasps. Laxus has been careful not to use them yet, but Freed wonders what it would feel like if Laxus were to stop being so careful, imagining his neck pierced by those sharp teeth in Laxus’ passion, and finds that the thought of it doesn’t distress him. At all.

 

“I trust you,” he sighs, leaning into the bigger man’s embrace, into his touch, surrendering to whatever it is Laxus plans to do with him. “Laxus, please…” Laxus rolls, and pins Freed to the bed under him. His hands slide up Freed’s arms, over slender, corded muscle his years of swordfighting have built, so that his fingers can capture Freed’s wrists and press them into the softness of the bedding.

 

“I want to make you beg,” he says softly. “I want to hear you whimper, and make you squeal. I want you to cry for me, Freed, and scream my name.”

 

“Yes,” whispers Freed.

 

“You’re sure?”

 

“I’ve always wanted this. Those things. I’ve been dreaming about them since I was just a kid. I’m not just saying what I think you want to hear. I wouldn’t make up a story so humiliating about my childhood. This has always been what I’ve wanted. I’m not this pure, good, person you seem to have thought I was all this time,” cries Freed passionately, seeing the worry on Laxus’ face. “For god's’ sake, Laxus, I have a demon form! Do you think it’s called Dark Ecriture just because it’s purple? Some of my magic...it’s a manifestation of my thoughts, of my desires.”

 

“Okay,” says Laxus, cutting him off with a kiss. “I believe you. And I feel a little stupid for not asking more questions before now. All this time….” He shakes his head, then lets it go. “But the old man says things happen for a reason, so maybe if this had happened sooner, it wouldn’t have been the right time. The things I like….they used to be darker than they are now. Meaner. But I’m...not that guy anymore. I want all those things I said, Freed, and I’ll enjoy them. I’ll like hurting you a little. Sometimes more than a little. But not more than you can take, and I’ll like making you feel good too.”

 

“Yes. Please,” agrees Freed instantly. Laxus grins.

 

“You were wrong about one thing though. You are pure, Freed. Untouched. You have no idea how appealing that is.”

 

“Will... oh ...will you make me dirty?” gasps Freed, pressing his mouth against Laxus’ chest and blushing at his own temerity.

 

“Ohh, Freed,” purrs Laxus, rolling his hips, “I’m gonna make you filthy.

 

Freed’s arms are still raised over his head when Laxus rolls him again, so that he’s lying on his stomach. The larger man settles over him again, and Freed gasps when he feels the hardness of Laxus’ cock grinding against his ass.

 

“Still with me?”

 

“Ah...yes,” says Freed, his voice a bit muffled into the pillows, but clearly audible nevertheless. Laxus rolls off of him, leaving him feeling a bit bereft in the absence of his warmth.

 

“I haven’t got any of my own...things...with me, so we’re gonna see how well you can obey. I know you can do this, but will you? I want you to bind your own wrists to the headboard, Freed. Strong enough that you can’t break them, but carefully enough that you can’t hurt yourself either. After that, I’m gonna punish you a little for being a tease earlier. Still think you want me to?” The cool leather of his belt slithers over Freed’s ass.

 

“Ngh. Yes.”

 

“Good boy. You’ve got three minutes, Freed. Better hurry.”

 

Three minutes? Freed’s brain blanks out for a few seconds as he struggles to even recall what Laxus is talking about, his train of thought derailed by the feeling of that leather sliding over his skin. It’s probably one of his two or three biggest fantasies, though there are more than a few of them. To be punished, the way he’s always wanted to be, even if he’s never really understood why. Oh. Ohh . And right up there with it, being helpless. Bound, captive, unable to escape. Freed’s fingers scribe quickly, his lips moving silently as he writes. He doesn’t actually have to invent this on the fly, as Laxus seems to imagine he’s going to. This won’t be the first time Freed’s used his magic on himself this way. He’s just never imagined it would be anything other than a pale substitute for the real thing. And while he longs for Laxus to bind him himself, there’s also something illicit, titillating, and thrilling about being asked to do it himself. To offer himself willingly for his own torment and ravishment. He invokes the runes, and they flare purple, twining around his wrists and the sturdy headboard. He makes them strong. More than strong enough to hold him. Possibly even strong enough to hold Laxus, if he didn’t use magic to break them. Freed can shatter the bindings with a word, of course, and they both know it, but he feels sure it would require a life or death situation to make him do so now. That, or Laxus telling him to.

 

“Done,” he says breathlessly, tugging hard against the invisible restraints. Resistance makes the runes flare again, so that Laxus can see them against Freed’s skin, intact and unbreaking.

 

“You’re so good for me, Freed.” Laxus’ breath is hot against the back of his shoulder. Strong fingers gently work Freed’s hair free of the small ribbon binding it together near the ends, so that it slides in jewel-bright ribbons over his pale skin. He kisses the back of Freed’s shoulders, then brushes his hair back and kisses the back of his neck. Freed shivers and can’t hold back a soft moan at the scrape of teeth. “Yeah? You like that?”

 

“Ah. Yes.

 

“I’ll bite you here when I fuck you,” says Laxus matter-of-factly. Freed whimpers. “Get up on your knees.”

 

Freed pants as he awkwardly draws his knees up underneath him, hips canting up obscenely, his ears burning with thoughts of how he must look. Laxus growls and shoves his knees apart farther, spreading them until Freed’s thighs quiver with strain.

 

“Remember the word you chose?”

 

“I...yes.”

 

“What is it?”

 

“L-lightning,” breathes Freed. Laxus grunts softly in approval.

 

“I won’t push you too hard this time. Because you haven’t given me a reason to. Because I don’t want to scare you off too soon. Because I’m so hard for you I don’t know how much longer I can wait. But you...you said you wanted this. And. I’ve been wanting to do it to you for a long time.”

 

“You...you have ?” Laxus chuckles.

 

“Oh yeah. I think the first time I thought about it was one of the first jobs we did together. I was in a hurry, didn’t want to take time to rest or eat, and you kept bitching at me about it. How my health was more important than the jewels. How I was gonna make myself sick. And I did. And you were so fuckin’ smug about it. Wanted to throw you over the end of the bed in that Inn we finally had to stop at, to look for a healer. Throw that fancy coat over your back and yank down your pants and blister your ass with my belt for talkin’ to me like that.”

 

“That was when I was eighteen ,” gasps Freed in shock.

 

“I know.”

 

“Ngh,” says Freed, squirming a little and trying not to think too hard about how he must look, because he can feel the coolness of the air of the room on his cock dangling between his legs, on his balls, and even between his slightly spread buttocks on his tightly clenched asshole. He’s never been so exposed in his life. He gasps and stiffens when he feels Laxus’ broad leather belt glide over the upturned cheeks of his backside. It vanishes, and he holds his breath, feels like time stops between the heavy, terrified, exhilarated hammer strokes of his pounding heart. Surely, surely this isn’t actually happening? It is, though.

 

The first stroke doesn’t hurt at all, but Freed cries out anyway, because despite the fact that he’s thought about this and dreamed and fantasized about it for more years than he can remember, no one has ever struck him this way before, not even in school when it was allowed. Partly this is because he’d always been a good student, and a respectful and obedient one, and partly because of his name and his family. He’s always avoided it at the Guild as well, despite Laxus’ grandsire’s embarrassing penchant for disciplining his “children” in a very physical way, because Freed has simply never been much of a rule-breaker. It happens to Natsu on practically a weekly basis, although this has never seemed to teach the younger wizard much of a lesson. But never to Freed. Until now. Laxus chuckles softly at his reaction.

 

“Really?” he asks.

 

“I...no. It just su...surprised me AH!” The second stroke cuts him off, and is a little harder, but still little more than a hint of heat, the smallest of stings.

 

“Are you this sensitive...or this responsive?” teases Laxus gently, but there is a little bit of concern in his voice as well, a tinge of uncertainty.

 

“More,” whispers Freed. “I...it doesn’t hurt. I’ve just...for so long….”

 

“Ah.” And Freed has known Laxus long enough that, even though he can’t see it with his burning face buried in his pillows, he can hear the grin in the lightning mage’s voice. A hand settles firmly on his hip, and Freed sighs, leaning into it a little. The fine trembling that sings through every muscle and sinew in his body eases at the contact. Leather kisses his flesh a little harder, a small flare of heat this time, which fades quickly to warmth, but this time Freed moans. Laxus strikes him slowly, carefully, from the crest of his cheeks down to the tops of his thighs. He adds force gradually, building layers of tingling warmth into Freed’s skin. Freed feels like his ass must be glowing. He whimpers and gasps, biting his lips against the desire to ask Laxus for more, because Laxus isn’t the only one worried about scaring someone off, or the only one worried about being too bent.

 

Then, finally, the strap catches Freed on the underside of his ass, right where he sits, and the stroke bites . Pain flares, sharp and sweet, for an instant. Freed lets out a choked cry, pulling on the restraints, but not because he wants to escape. There’s another part of this fantasy. Freed wonders if he dares. Laxus spanks him again, as hard as before.

 

“Ah! L-Laxus! Oh…”

 

“What’s wrong, Freed?”

 

Leather licks hotly at his flesh again.

 

“I-I-I...oh...hurts…” whispers Freed, biting his lips. Will Laxus stop? It’s already more than he’s ever hoped for, so it will be all right if he does. Perhaps there will be another time, after all. But Laxus hits him a little harder. His voice is calm and even when he responds.

 

“Does it?”

 

At this point, it’s probably a very good thing that Freed has already come once tonight, because if not, this would probably do it for him. That cool voice, threaded through with a tiny hint of amusement. Followed by another stroke, and then another.

 

“Please,” breathes Freed, so softly he’s not sure Laxus can hear it, is not sure he wants Laxus to hear it, but he should know better by now, because Laxus’ senses are far better than all but those of another dragonslayer, for all that his magic was forced upon him by his twisted Father. It works just as well as most, and better than some.

 

“Please what?”

 

“I...I don’t know…”

 

CRACK! This time, there is a little bit of actual pain, and Freed’s cry is unfeigned.

 

“Try again.”

 

“I...I’ll be good,” mumbles Freed into his pillow, wondering if it’s possible for a human being to actually combust.

 

“Mm. Do you want me to stop?”

 

“....yes…” Freed has possibly never told a bigger lie in his life, but it’s so thrilling, so exquisite, that it brings tears to his eyes which have nothing to do with pain. He’s a wizard of Fairy Tail, after all, who has survived Tenrou Island, and these small bites and stings of leather against his skin are nothing compared to that, or to many hundreds of other pains his body has endured in the defense of his comrades and his Guild.

 

Liar ,” purrs Laxus in his ear, pausing to lean close. Freed shivers. “But give me this anyway, Freed. Beg me to stop.”

 

“Yes, Master,” whispers Freed, and when Laxus straightens back up and spanks him again, he allows himself to become lost in his dream. He begs Laxus for mercy. “Oh please. Please stop. Ah! Ah, hurts! No more, oh please. Hah! L-Laxus! Master ! Please!”

 

The belt dropping to the surface of the bed is a muffled thump. Laxus’ fingers feel cool on his heated skin. Freed shudders and moans helplessly, arching his back. His head is yanked back by his hair and Laxus is staring searchingly into his glazed, lust-blown eyes, a small frown between his eyebrows. His fingertips lift a tear from Freed’s cheek and he watches in fascination as Laxus licks it away.

 

“Are you all right?”

 

“Mmhm,” says Freed dreamily.

 

“You’re crying a little.”

 

“I know.”

 

“Dispel the runes.” Freed obeys, and then is hauled roughly against Laxus’ broad, muscled chest, the larger man’s lips pressed into his hair. Freed dares for the first time to wrap his arms around Laxus and holds on fiercely. “You’re sure?”

“I’m fine,” Freed says earnestly. “I wasn’t crying because it hurt.”

 

“You...oh?”

 

“It was because it was too good. Because sometimes when you dream about a thing for a long time, then when you finally get it, the reality isn’t at all what you’d been hoping for. Only it was. It was better.”

 

“Didn’t make you wanna run, huh?” Freed shakes his head. He presses a kiss against Laxus’ warm skin, then takes a deep breath.

 

“It made me want to give you a reason,” he admits softly. Laxus’ arms tighten around Freed, and his chest rumbles softly with suppressed laughter. “Don’t laugh at me.”

 

“I’m not laughing at you. I’m laughing at me. For worrying about hitting you too hard. I know you’re not fragile, Freed. I just don’t know anything yet about what you need . Guess sometimes when you’ve wanted somethin’ a long time, it’s also true you don’t want to fuck it up. We’ll figure each other out. Sit down and talk about what we really do want. We can do it in the dark, if you want, so you don’t get too freaked out. And I guess so I don’t have to see the look on your face if what I tell you’s too much for you. But I think maybe it won’t be.”

 

“All right,” whispers Freed, blushing at the mere thought of it, and grateful that Laxus understands implicitly how difficult a conversation it will be for him.

 

“But that’s for another time, I think. I’m startin’ to have a little trouble thinking too straight with you this close to me. Been thinkin’ about taking your virginity for several hours now, and I don’t want to wait anymore.” Freed gulps and nods faintly against Laxus’ shoulder. His arms tighten convulsively for a moment when Laxus presses him gently back, but he lets himself be pushed flat against the bed, and looks up into the taller man’s eyes. Laxus stares down at him for several long moments, looking searchingly into Freed’s eyes. Suddenly he frowns.

 

“What’s wrong?” cries Freed in alarm.

 

“Shit. I didn’t think about it. I don’t have anything, any oil or lubricant or anything to….” says Laxus in frustration. Freed sighs in relief.

 

“Right bedside table, top drawer,” he offers quickly. Laxus’ frown deepens for a moment, at which Freed wonders a bit, then turns to retrieve the bottle. His question explains the frown, a little, but doesn’t clear it up for Freed very much.

 

“What do you use this for?” he asks, looking at the bottle and not at Freed’s face. The question confuses the green-haired mage. What does Laxus think he uses it for?

 

“To...to….when I’m by myself, I….”

 

“What, to finger yourself? Or do you have toys or something?”

 

“What? No! I just...without it, sometimes my hand will tend to. Um. Chafe. A little,” admits Freed, flushing. Laxus’ eyes return to his and the frown disappears, at which point Freed begins to get an idea as to its origins.

 

“You just use it to jerk off?”

 

“Well. Yes.” Laxus throw his head back and laughs. Freed huffs at him. “I don’t see what’s so funny about it.”

 

“It’s not. You’re not. I’m an asshole. I was really getting off on being your absolute first experience, cause you seemed so much like you really didn’t have any. At all. That thinking about you….fucking yourself….with anything, even your own fingers, even though that doesn’t really count and you’d still be a virgin? I was disappointed, a little.”

 

“I haven’t. You are. I….I mean...you w-will be. If you...still want to,” stammers Freed, burning with mortification and pleasure at the same time. He’s starting to get a small inkling that Laxus could turn out to be a possessive sort of a person, if this were to be more than a one time thing, and Laxus is certainly talking as though he intends for it to be.

 

“Oh, you just try and stop me,” growls Laxus fiercely. Then he blinks. “You’ve really never touched yourself there?”

 

“Well, to bathe obviously,” says Freed a little stiffly. Laxus snorts in amusement. Freed bites his lip and peers up at him through his bangs. “Is it….does it….hurt. A lot? The first time?”

 

Laxus closes his eyes and Freed can see his throat working as he swallows. When he opens them again, the stormclouds are back, and lightning flashes against their almost silver hue in the shadows of Freed’s bedroom. The air fills once again with static.

 

“I’m gonna try my best not to let it, too much. But. I don’t want to lie to you. I’m….not small. There’s been a couple of guys who couldn’t. Handle it. Girls haven’t ever seemed to mind. Never slept with a girl who was a virgin before. Hell, Freed, I’m pretty sure I’ve never slept with a virgin at all until tonight. I didn’t know I’d like it so much, want it so much, to be the first for you. When you said that after you met me, you...there just wasn’t anyone else for you? Like you’d kept yourself pure for me? Makes me feel like about a million jewels, and like I don’t deserve it at the same time.”

 

“You do ,” whispers Freed fiercely. “ Everything about you has been worth waiting for!”

 

“Heh. I hope you still think that. After. I’ll try to make sure you do, but...I guess what I’m sayin’ is that it probably will hurt some. We’ll go slow, okay? And...if you can’t, if it’s too much, you really can stop me. I meant that. When I gave you my word. Okay?”

 

“Okay,” breathes Freed. Laxus leans down and kisses him. Freed whines softly in his throat and opens his mouth when Laxus’ tongue softly traces the seam between his lips. Their tongues slick and tangle as the kiss deepens. Laxus’ hand on his thigh makes him flinch a little, but he lets his legs fall open obediently at the bigger man’s gentle tug. Laxus swallows his startled exclamation when a blunt, slick fingertip brushes softly over Freed’s asshole for the first time. Laxus breaks the kiss and pulls back, leaning on his elbow over Freed, his flashing eyes intent on the younger man’s face. Freed closes his eyes and shivers. It tickles a little. The cool lubricant warms quickly, and he squirms a little as Laxus gently swirls his finger in tiny circles around the tiny pucker of his hole, gasping at the sensation. It’s vastly different from any of the times Freed has touched himself there. He’s never been aware of so many sensitive nerve endings in such a place.

 

“It may not be such a good thing that you blush so easy,” says Laxus in a low, growling voice. Freed opens his eyes and stares up at him in confusion.

 

“Ah. Oh. Wh-why?”

 

“Because I think for the rest of my life I’m gonna picture you just like this, every time you do. You turn me on so much, just lyin’ there with your cheeks pink while I touch you like this.”

 

Freed groans and slams his eyes shut again. Laxus huffs out a soft laugh, and presses the tip of his finger inside Freed’s body. Freed’s hands grope for something to hang on to, something to anchor him, for fear that he’ll simply explode off of the bed and vanish. Laxus slides the arm he’s leaning on a little closer, and Freed clutches it, turning his head to press his mouth against the warm, golden skin of Laxus’ muscled bicep.

 

“Easy,” says Laxus softly. “This part won’t hurt, I don’t think.” And he slides his finger up to the knuckle into Freed’s ass.

 

“Ahh!”

 

He’s right, though. It doesn’t hurt. It feels strange at first, but there’s no pain. Freed shivers at the sensation, gasping and whimpering a little when Laxus slowly withdraws his finger, then presses it inside again. He does this for several minutes, and after a bit begins to curl the tip of his finger as he pulls it slowly out, until Freed’s body stiffens again and his shocked cry makes Laxus pause, grinning.

 

“There?”

 

“Ohh. Oh, Laxus...that’s….hah!”

 

“Good to know,” says Laxus smugly, and does it again. Freed’s not an imbecile. He’s known intellectually what a prostate gland is for a few years now, and has read and heard that it does indeed feel rather nice to have this particular spot stimulated, but knowing something intellectually and feeling it for himself are quite simply worlds apart. Pleasure flares and sparks in his blood, his stomach tightening and heal pooling in his groin and at the base of his spine. Laxus doesn’t touch that spot with every thrust of his finger, which is likely a good thing, because Freed’s pretty sure he’d come again in about a minute if that were the case, but he rubs the tip of his finger over just the right spot often enough to have Freed’s toes curling and his eyes rolling back in his head.

 

“I think….ngh,” gasps Freed, “I think I’m. Ready. Oh. For a little more.”

 

“Getting impatient?”

 

“I think I might die.”

 

“You better not,” growls Laxus ferociously. “I’d beat your ass every day for the rest of ever.” Freed does his best to stifle his laughter, but is less than perfectly successful.

 

After I’m dead?”

 

“I’ll find a way,” says Laxus stubbornly, and because Freed has always believed that Laxus can do anything he sets his mind to, he believes this too.

 

“I...hah...shall endeavor ne...never to die then, Master,” whispers Freed. Laxus huffs softly, and withdraws his finger entirely. He opens the bottle of lubricant again, something Freed hadn’t even noticed him doing the first time, and pours out some more of it onto his first two fingers, rubbing them together for a few moments before he presses the tips of both to Freed’s softened entrance. Freed is, indeed, ready for more, and so when Laxus pushes both fingers slowly and carefully inside him, it still doesn’t hurt, but his body feels the stretch now. He whimpers again, and his hips roll with the lazy, gentle thrusts, gasping and letting out small cries when they crook inside him and rub in just the right spot. Laxus does this for what seems like hours, until Freed is making small, distressed noises of supreme frustration and rocking to meet every thrust, several of which are quite a bit less gentle than at first but which only make Freed want more. Then Laxus slowly spreads his fingers, only a little at first, and Freed’s body stiffens.

 

“AH!”

 

“Hurts?”

 

“Ha...burns. A little,” says Freed, his voice a little strained.

 

“Breathe,” says Laxus calmly, not letting up. Freed lets out the breath he’s been holding. Slowly, his body relaxes and the small burn fades to a memory. Once he sees the tiny frown between Freed’s eyebrows disappear, Laxus flexes his fingers again, this time spreading them a little wider. He does this over and over, slowly opening Freed’s body, just to the point of discomfort, always stopping just before it actually becomes real pain, waiting patiently for Freed to relax and accept the stretch. Slowly, torturously slowly, over and over, almost endlessly. Until Freed is almost mindless and practically drooling with want for something he doesn’t know how to express. Grinning like a madman, Laxus adds more lube, and carefully works a third finger inside Freed’s body. Due to the prolonged and careful stretching, this doesn’t hurt either, not even when Laxus fucks him slowly with three fingers. But when Laxus carefully flexes and spreads those fingers, Freed’s cry is startled and pained. Laxus holds him there, quivering on the edge of that pain, until Freed’s harsh panting levels into even breathing again. Slowly, so slowly, and with infinite patience, Laxus repeats the process. Freed can hear Laxus’ breath, harsh and ragged near his ear, and sometimes when he writhes or flinches or arches his hips off the bed, he can feel the thick, hot ridge of Laxus’ need against his thigh, but Laxus gives no other sign of his own need. Freed loses track of time, has no idea whether this has been going on for hours or for days, when Laxus finally withdraws his hand entirely from between Freed’s thighs and pushes himself up onto his knees.

 

“Turn over.” The order is given in a rumbling growl so low it’s barely audible. Freed nearly opens his mouth to protest, but then he remembers those lips on the back of his neck and that low, sinister, tantalizing promise. I’ll bite you here when I fuck you. Thunder rolls in the distance as he rolls onto his stomach, breathing lightly through his mouth in a confusion of terror and desire. “Put your hands on the headboard. I won’t make you replace the runes, but if you let go?”

 

“Hngh?” gasps Freed, wrapping his fingers around the polished mahogany and hanging on for dear life.

 

“Well, that’d give me a reason, Freed. But I don’t think you’d like what happens.”

 

“I...I’ll try,” whispers Freed, and resolves not to let go if his life depends on it, although this might possibly be a little excessive, even under these circumstances. Not that it matters to Freed.

 

Laxus tilts his hips up, and Freed trembles almost violently when he feels more of the cool, slippery gel sliding over the loosened, heated mouth of his entrance. The broad head of Laxus’ cock, also slick, but very warm, almost hot, feels enormous when it nudges and then nestles against his wet hole. Laxus’ hands settle on his hips, his fingers holding Freed firmly in place.

 

“Take a deep breath,” says Laxus through his teeth. “I’m gonna go as slow as I can. It’ll help if you bear down a little when I push, okay?” There is concern in his voice, but he sounds also as if he has very nearly reached the end of his patience. Freed nods once, his throat too tight for speech. Laxus nudges his hips forward, pressing slowly, and Freed feels a small tremor in the bigger man’s hands where they grip his slender hips. He feels his body beginning to give way, opening around the shocking thickness and shivers, whimpering softly into his pillows.

 

There is no pain at first, only a breathless sense of fullness, of being invaded , but then Freed can feel his body resist, and the slow and steady press of Laxus’ cock starts to burn, the stretch stinging and aching.

 

“AH!”

 

“Shh. Push against me. Breathe, Freed.”

 

Freed has been obeying Laxus for too long to stop now. His body complies almost automatically, and it does make it a little easier, but oh god , it’s so big. Tears fill Freed’s eyes and his fingers are white and bloodless as he grips the headboard like a lifeline. Laxus rocks his hips back, easing the breathtaking burn for a moment, then pushes in a little farther. Freed wails.

 

“I can’t,” he cries frantically.

 

“Freed, you’re fucking beautiful.”

 

“It hurts ,” sobs Freed.

 

“I know,” says Laxus softly. But true to his word, he does not stop. Slowly and carefully, but inexorably, he fills Freed with himself as Freed shivers and cries and begs him for mercy. The ache is abominable. The sense of being a hairsbreadth away from being torn in half is terrifying. It hurts even more than he’d ever imagined it would. And yet it does not occur to Freed to speak the word that will make Laxus stop, end his body’s torment, because through the pain, Laxus’ hands on his hips are strong and sure, and hidden somewhere inside the burn and the ache there is a kernel of warmth, a tremulous sense of something waiting beyond what he’s feeling right now, that Freed longs for, yearns for, and cannot bring himself to prevent. Through the soft haze of his tears, he realizes suddenly that he can feel Laxus’ hips pressed firmly against his hot, reddened ass.

 

Laxus, ” he sobs, and, “Master…”

 

“Shh,” murmurs Laxus, bending over him to press his lips into Freed’s hair. “Easy. Just relax. Gonna be okay now. You did it, Freed. Took all of me. Fuck. Don’t move, okay?”

 

Breathless with tears, Freed obeys him again, freezing in place and trying to still even his body’s pained trembling. Laxus is very still too, anchored deep inside him, panting harshly, his fingers pressing bruises into Freed’s hips. Slowly, in small increments, the shocking pain begins to ease. Freed’s body adjusts to the eye-watering stretch. He stops crying and almost feels as though he’s holding his breath, as that sense of waiting gradually turns into a sense of becoming, as the burn fades to a more distant ache, to the sort of pain that is more, is the thing he’s been longing for his whole life.

 

“Oh,” whispers Freed.

 

“Yeah?” says Laxus.

 

“Yes,” sighs Freed. Laxus lets go of Freed’s right hip and brushes the spun emerald silk of Freed’s hair off of his neck. Carefully, he settles a little more of his weight against the smaller man’s body, and Freed gasps. Warm lips brush like a sigh over the back of his neck. Freed quivers. Laxus carefully rolls his hips back, slowly dragging his massive cock out of Freed’s tight, clenching body. Then, just as carefully, he pushes in again. Freed’s cry this time is not one of too much pain. It still hurts, but it’s no longer too much. And it rubs over that sweet, electric, tingling place inside him that sends sparks flashing through his veins, curls his toes and bows his spine with warmth. Torment and pleasure combine into heat. Freed gasps. Laxus growls. The kiss on the back of Freed’s neck sharpens, and he shudders at the feel of Laxus teeth setting to his skin. Sharp canine teeth prick his flesh, and Freed lets out a low, shuddering moan. Laxus laughs softly through those teeth, low and wild and hungry.

 

“Oh Freed,” he growls, letting go for just a moment, “you’re mine now.”

 

With that, Laxus bites down on the back of Freed’s neck, rocks his hips back, and fucks him. Freed howls. Nothing, nothing he’s ever imagined could have possibly prepared him for the reality of this. Laxus’ permanently sharpened canine teeth piercing his neck are the completion of an open, empty circuit. Pain and pleasure clash, tangle, combine….and he’s lost. The thick, heavy cock inside him, reaming him open, coring him out, owning him….oh, it’s the most frightening and the best thing he’s ever felt. Lightning flashes outside the window, dazzling his eyes. Static crackles through the room as Laxus’ power slips its leash a little, sparking over both their skins. Insidious pleasure coils around Freed’s spine and sets it claws into his guts. His own cock aches like a bruise between his legs, his balls tightening, and though a small part of him longs to touch it, to ease that ache, he knows, can already tell it’s going to be a very, very moot point. Very soon. Laxus snarls, his tongue lapping at the tiny wounds his teeth have made, licking up Freed’s blood like candy, fucking into the pliant body beneath him a little harder, a little faster. Freed sobs a little, raising his hips as best he can to meet each thrust.

 

“Master,” he cries frantically, trembling, “hah...oh...oh please...I’m...ahh!”

 

“Come,” growls Laxus against his neck. “ Now.

 

And again, obeying Laxus is as easy as it’s always been. Freed screams his name, just as Laxus had said he would, had asked him to, shaking like a leaf in a storm as his pleasure is ripped from his body, clenching so tight around Laxus that it hurts a little, his vision tunneling to white as thunder crashes around the house. Laxus throws his head back with a startled gasp, his hands clenching convulsively. He slams his cock home with a guttural groan, and dimly, through his own pleasure, Freed feels Laxus’ cock twitching inside him, and the warm rush of being filled with his lover’s seed. His lover. His body collapses, lax as a marionette when its strings are suddenly cut. He whines softly when he feels Laxus withdraw from his body, feeling sorrow at the loss, but then a powerful arm wraps around him, and gentle fingers touch his hands.

 

“Freed. Let go, Freed,” says Laxus softly, taking Freed’s numbed fingers in his hand and rubbing them gently. Released from his own self-imposed bondage, Freed turns into Laxus’ embrace, buries his face against that powerful chest, and goes quietly to pieces for a few minutes. Laxus holds him close and pets him, pressing kisses to the top of his head, then pulling back a little to lick and kiss the tears from Freed’s face.

 

“I’m a mess,” whispers Freed tremulously.

 

“You’re beautiful,” says Laxus stubbornly, a glint in his eye daring Freed to argue with him. His eyes are blue again, the warm, clear blue of Summer skies washed clean after a sudden storm. His smile is one Freed doesn’t think he’s ever seen before, warm and somehow tender. “Okay now?”

 

“Perfect,” sighs Freed.

 

“Still not scared, huh?”

 

“No.”

 

“About that spare bedroom,” says Laxus.

 

“You can have it for as long as you need,” says Freed quickly, anxiously. Laxus frowns at him.

 

“What if I like this bedroom better?”

 

“I….oh. Y-you do?” Freed looks around his bedroom, feeling a bit of a pang. But if this is what Laxus wants, it’s not really in him to refuse. “Well, that’s fine. I can move my things into... mmph.”

 

“Dumbass,” says Laxus, chuckling softly. “I like this one better with you in it.”

 

“Oh. Oh! I...yes.”

 

“If that’s okay with you.”


“That’s very okay with me,” smiles Freed.