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Catch the Thunder	By : Rhov Category: +. to F > Fairy Tail Views: 17785 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: Fairy Tail is the property of Hiro Mashima. I make no money, I just do this for my own pleasure.

Chapter List
- 12
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Chapter 13

Can't Be Caught
Once again, Freed was in the South Pole Club on a Saturday night. Even after he and Laxus began dating, he returned here again and again, maybe more frequently than before, when he came only to be teased and aroused. Now he watched the show.
Or at least, he watched one man.
"Thor is on second again," Bob told him before he even had to ask.
Second. Always, he was after the club's darling prince. Yet Freed realized, that was fine. Laxus was not a stripper at heart. This was a job, not an enjoyment. He was good because he had to be to get what he wanted: clients to beat so he could get out his sadistic tendencies.
"I saw your fencing match last week. Was that Thor in the crowd?"
Freed said nothing and only sipped his chartreuse. Laxus had come to the fencing tournament, and it was just bad luck that the camera had shown a closeup of his face, watching the match with those intense blue eyes and the unique scar running down his face. Luckily, despite the fact that Bob had played it on the club's television screens, no one yet had mentioned it. He doubted if anyone was even in the club at that time of the day. Only Bob. Bob seemed to always be there, and he liked to watch his regular customer on the television.
"I won't tell," Bob said quietly. "Still, if you two are together in public … Jellal is strict about these things."
"Jellal can go to hell," Freed grumbled.
Bob sighed as he watched Freed's gaze. "You requested Thor again. I don't think you really need to do that."
"I like to," Freed said. "It's nice, having him dance for me."
"Doesn't he dance for you in private?"
Freed again said nothing. He knew the club had rules about how close the dancers could get with their customers.
"Every time you come here now, you're requesting him."
"It's managing to keep his job," Freed pointed out.
"True, but you're practically his exclusive client."
Exclusive! Freed liked the sound of that.
"And now you're out with him in public. If Jellal gets a hint that Thor is becoming exclusive to a customer, he'll fire Thor."
"Thor will keep dancing; it doesn't matter which club."
"Isn't that … troubling for you? Seeing him with other men?"
Freed said nothing and took another silent sip. He knew it was Laxus' job, he knew those men meant nothing to Laxus, but still…
Sometimes…
Bob glanced around to make sure no one could hear, and he dropped his voice to a confidential whisper. "Now, I like that guy, he's talented, but … why don't you tell him to leave all of this, stay with you? You've got money. You could support him."
"Support Thor?" Freed had to laugh at the idea. "A man like him would never agree to someone else supporting him." Freed knew that was just the way Laxus was: stubborn, independent, determined to make it through life by his own strength.
"Most of these dancers aren't in relationships. You and Thor are. You're even going out on dates. You should hold onto him, now that you've caught him."
Freed shook his head with a passive smile. "You can't catch someone like him. Perhaps by chance he'll strike in front of you, land in your lap, but no one can hold onto him forever. In a flash, he's gone, and all that's left is the sound of that electrical presence. A crackle. A rumble. The ominous and fading roll of thunder." He smiled up to Bob with a hint of sadness in his eyes. "You can't catch the thunder."
He looked back down to his pale green drink. Laxus was right. He hated chartreuse and only ordered it to appear sophisticate. In a gulp, he swallowed all of it down and set it aside. Bob moved to the green bottle.
"No," Freed called out. "Let me try … Blue Label, neat, with a water back."
Bob's eyes widened. "That's a hell of an order. You're not into the hard stuff."
"Maybe he's changing me," Freed mused.
Bob poured the drink with the small glass of water to the side. Freed carried both glasses to his usual booth. He watched the show start, Ice Prince wowing and wooing the crowd, stripping in an instant, and finishing up only to leave the stage and go straight to Pinkie, giving him a too-affectionate dance on the lap. Freed smiled at the two. They appeared to know one another well. He wondered if Ice Prince had done a lot of private sessions for that pink-haired kid. He had heard for himself that they knew one another's real names. Were they as close as he was to the man this club knew as Thor? Were they also dating secretly?
The change of lights from blue to yellow took his mind off of those two. They could have their fun. Pinkie always missed Thor's dance, too distracted by his frosty stripper. That was one less pair of eyes on the burly man and his dance of seduction.
Freed realized, he had every right to be jealous. The crowd hooted and groaned at various times of Thor's stripping. He could still hammer at their groins. Instead, Freed watched his dancer and the men who ogled him with a sense of smugness. They knew only the thunder, something ephemeral. Once the song was over, like a storm cloud passing, the thunder was gone, faded from the stage and from the minds of the men in this club, who were eager for the next dancer.
Not Freed. That tempestuous dance meant a new storm was brewing, and the lightning was coming soon.
He was there in a flash, golden spiky hair, eyes that looked orange in the light of the club, a devious smile as he approached Freed, straddled him, and gazed down hard. This time, his scarred eyes glanced at the glass.
"Not your usual," he commented.
"I … I thought … maybe you could show me how to drink scotch."
Laxus chuckled. "I'm supposed to dance on your lap, bitch."
"I do believe I'm the one who purchased a full song and two-way contact."
That sly gleam in the green-haired man's eyes always amused Laxus. It made Freed different from the assholes who normally bought Laxus' time, wishing to be purely dominated. He picked up the tumbler of scotch and took a drink. Then, holding the liquid in his mouth, he kissed Freed. The liquid passed from Laxus' mouth into the waiting one. He felt Freed tense up at the burning feel of the whiskey, but Laxus trapped the swordsman's wrists down. Freed was forced to swallow, and that sense of helplessness made him stiffen up erect already.
"Very good," Laxus praised.
Freed felt like he could melt from those approving words.
"Now, chase it with water. Open your mouth."
Freed opened, tilting his head up, and Laxus poured water onto his tongue. A little dribbled down Freed's chin, slithering over his neck to his shirt.
"Bad boy. You're messy," Laxus said with a sadistic smirk. He grabbed Freed's wrists and pinned them above his head against the booth. "You get punished."
His lap dance finally began, torturing Freed's groin, arousing him with sparks of electric thrills. Freed groaned and panted as the music and the movements pounded into him. He gazed up helplessly into those eyes he now knew were blue.
"Tonight?" he asked softly.
Laxus smiled gently and touched Freed's cheek, something fleeting, unseen by the crowd, but enough to show Freed that this thunder god honestly cared for a mere mortal like him. "Sure," Laxus said in a low, gravelly whisper. "Don't get drunk on the scotch."
"Not a chance," Freed chuckled. He would rather waste the alcohol than waste a night with his thunder god. "Oh God, like that," he moaned, arching back into the booth as his hips thrust on their own.
Laxus released his bound wrists. "Grab my ass, bitch. Show me how you like to feel it."
He blushed in humiliation, but he reached around those leather pants to pull Laxus close against him. Laxus stopped moving, forcing Freed to shift his butt, pulling and moving Laxus to where he wanted to feel it. He liked to feel that thick length slide up over him, especially as he felt Laxus slowly hardening. Then he liked a little side-to-side, like two swords battling one another. Then a tight thrust up against him. It was embarrassing to be this assertive in the middle of the strip club, with others watching them, and that shamed feeling made his heart race.
"The song's too fast," Laxus complained.
"Would you rather have Barry White?" Freed teased.
"Considering you only bought one song, I'd rather have In A Gadda Da Vida."
"That would be an awesome song to make out to."
"I could probably make you come twice before the drum solo finishes," Laxus teased.
"Nnngh, probably could. Sh-shit!"
Just when Freed thought he could not take more, Laxus backed off. He was in tune with his swordsman now. They had done this many times, and Laxus was good at judging how much Freed could withstand.
"You're still too much," Freed groaned, knowing his issue meant these dances always were brief.
"You're getting better. Maybe you're used to me already," he teased with a sarcastic smile.
"A thousand dances couldn't make me used to you," Freed smiled in adoration. "I just might have to buy another dance tonight."
"Oh?" Laxus chuckled. "Feeling that generous."
"Jealous," he corrected. "There's a man to the side who has been staring at you this whole time."
Laxus glanced over briefly. "Damn. A client," he explained. "He probably wants me to beat the shit out of him again."
"Do you … need that?" Freed asked hesitantly.
Laxus' brow wrinkled. "Who knows?" he muttered.
Freed sighed and looked aside with a pinched forehead. This was just part of being with the thunder god. Everyone saw the brilliant flash of lightning, and he could not stop that dangerous roll of thunder from rumbling over the landscape. "Deal with him first. Meet me tomorrow. You're off work, right? We could spend the day together."
"Hey now! You asked first. That bastard can wait."
"That old man probably doesn't have much free time to come here. If you need it, I'd rather you get the worst of it out of your system first."
Laxus barked a laugh. "Why? So I can be gentle with you?"
Freed felt his face flush and dropped his head. "I don't know if I'd want gentle."
Laxus softly touched his cheek again. "We could try it."
His eyes swung up in shock. "Wh-what?"
"We could try gentle. Try more."
"M-more?" he gasped. "You mean…"
Was Laxus offering … that? Actual sex? Not just bondage and toys and blow jobs, but actually … doing … that?
The blond gave a mild shrug, but by the way his jaw tensed and relaxed in a slight tick, Freed knew Laxus felt nervous about taking this huge step. "It's an offer. Would you wanna?"
"Yes!" he cried out eagerly.
"Easy there," Laxus smiled, petting down the green hair. "For our first time, I don't want some random hotel. I want a place where you'll always remember it."
"Your flat…"
"Your dorm," Laxus said at the precise same time.
"W-w-wait! My dorm?" Freed shouted.
"Shh," he hushed with a stern look. They could not let others in the club know about this. "If we do it, I want it to be in your own bed."
"But it's a college dormitory, La- … uh, Thor. Dorms are not the most private locations. The walls are paper thin. I can hear my upstairs neighbor taking a leak!"
"Oh really?" Laxus chuckled slyly. "Even better." He scratched a fingernail across Freed's lip. "A building full of your frat buddies, and all of them will get to listen in as I break that virgin ass of yours in your own goddamn bed!"
Freed jolted and reached down, really feeling like he might come from just the thought of how erotic and humiliating that would be. As curious as he was about what sort of place Laxus lived in, maybe it was really a crummy apartment in a dangerous neighborhood. The dorm was safe, people in it were generally non-intrusive, and it really would be fun to kick Loke out for a change.
"I'll probably be late with this bastard," Laxus said, using his eyes to point over to the old man staring at them. "He does things slowly, tends to take until morning before he finally…"
"I told you before, never tell me about your clients."
Laxus froze at the angered snap and the jealousy in those normally fawning eyes. "Sorry," he conceded. "Just sayin', don't call me in the morning. I'll probably sleep in past noon. Chase that roommate of yours out before five o'clock." Then he climbed off Freed's lap as the song ended. "I'll see you then, Greenie. Try not to jizz as you think about it. Oh, and don't fap tonight. I want you built up for tomorrow."
"Shit," he cringed. He was so hard, he had been prepared to rush off to the restrooms to rub one out.
"Don't!" Laxus said with a final order. Then he turned and walked away backstage.
Freed was left with his mouth hanging open and his dick throbbing. He rubbed out his head and took another drink of the scotch, trying to calm himself down.
As Lyon began to dance, Freed stood, took his drink, and left the seating area. He walked back to the bar, away from the hooting oglers and pounding music. He sat in front of Bob, numbed and staring at the glass of whiskey.
Blue Label. Blue like Laxus' eyes. Blue eyes no one in this club saw, not with the lights that turned those eyes predatory orange. It was a blue that only Freed saw.
Freed stared at the golden drink. Gold like lightning, like blond hair. Yellow hair, blue eyes. It was a strong, hard drink, much like that tattooed body. As he sipped the drink, it burned, tingled, electrified like lightning. Yet as he chased it with the water, the flavor suddenly burst open, the harshness soothed away, and a truly wonderful experience tingled on his tongue, complex, powerful, overwhelming him.
No wonder Laxus liked this drink.
"Something wrong?" Bob asked in concern.
Freed laughed to himself as he held the scotch whiskey at eye level and swirled it. "Bob, I may have just managed to catch the thunder."

Next Chapter: First and Only

A/N: This chapter mentions "In A Gadda Da Vida" by Iron Butterfly, famous for being a 17-minute song. It features a 2 1/2 minute drum solo that lasts up to the 9th minute of the song. So Laxus teases that he could get Freed off twice in 9 minutes. Considering that, in this story, Freed has issues with premature ejaculation, he probably really could. Oh, and for legal reasons, I have to say "I do not own this song or make money off of it, blah blah."
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Catch the Thunder