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Catch the Thunder	By : Rhov Category: +. to F > Fairy Tail Views: 17789 -:- 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
- 30
- 31
- 32
Chapter 31

Blessing
Laxus walked into what appeared to be a normal inner city club, except for the blacked-out windows and a wall separating the rest of the club from the entrance. The person at the entry desk nodded to him in familiarity, and Laxus walked down the short hall. He rounded the corner of the wall and saw the club spread out. This was no normal establishment: the red walls, the black leather couches, a massive steal structure on the ceiling with chains hanging down ready to be used, and two cages, one cramped and so low the person would have to be on all fours to fit, the other narrow, upright, and hanging from the ceiling.
Not many people were in the fetish club this early in the morning. Laxus saw only one, a man in a rumpled white business suit, tie so loose it was almost off, hair a mess, eyes glazed from alcohol. The lady on the phone said Llewellyn hardly left. For three days, he stayed there from opening until they kicked him out. Where he went, no one knew, but he was smelling worse by the day and drinking heavier each time.
Laxus strode up quickly and slapped Llewellyn's back so hard, the ring cracked through the room. "Hey there!" he said with a jovial grin.
Llewellyn choked and coughed out spittle and beer, then looked up and nearly gagged again. "Thor!" He caught himself and shook out his head. "Uh-um…?" There was another name, a real name. His ethanol-addled brain tried to remember it.
"Laxus," the blond said.
"Right. La-Lax-Laxus." He looked up again, and his eyes saddened. "I thought you'd left the country."
"Yeah. I'm back," he said, spreading his arms out, his grand return. He smiled and settled down in a nearby chair. "So!" he said like greeting an old friend. Then Laxus' face went stone cold and he sneered out, "What the hell are you doing here?"
Llewellyn stiffened in dread at that face that threatened extreme punishment. "I-I'm allowed t-to go wherever I want!" he protested, shaking already in both fear and thrill.
"You knew this is the place I used to work."
"Uh … n- … I … No! Uh … Y-you worked here?" he stammered, ending in a tense grin of feigned innocence.
Laxus shook his head at the horrific lying. "You knew."
Llewellyn sank and dropped his head submissively before the dominant. "Who told you?"
"No one. I know you. You're rich, and you can figure this out: where did I go to work."
Llewellyn dared to raise his eyes, looking hurt because he had been deceived. "You're not an electrician," he stated with a pout.
Laxus laughed. That was what he told everyone these days. "Well, sometimes I am. I did fix the lights." He pointed to the ceiling and saw they still worked. Then his eyes narrowed at the middle-aged man in front of him. "You were here to see me."
Llewellyn gave him his most appealing smile. "I was hopeful." His hand crept forward, wanting to touch him again. Laxus saw and pulled back, folding his arms. Llewellyn's fingers curled back, and his head dropped in silent apology.
"Goddammit," Laxus sighed. He really thought this was over. He had hoped there would be no more awkwardness. Fuck his life! Fuck his past!
Llewellyn muttered awkwardly, "Look, if you're here, somewhere in public, and you … you happen to be working at a club…" Llewellyn stiffened stubbornly. "I'm allowed to go into that club!" He nodded firmly and stated in slow articulation, "I have the right to go where I want."
Laxus eyed him and saw the same proud expression as he had just seen on Freed. He knew now where Freed got that trait: those stiff and squared shoulders, the unsmiling face, the gleam in his eyes, even the way his thumb pressed down his other fingers until a knuckle cracked. All the same traits!
"You're right," Laxus said softly. He leaned back in his chair and nodded. "You have the right," he acceded, and Llewellyn grinned at his victory. Laxus drummed his fingers on the table, snapped his eyes over to Llewellyn, and said in a direly soft voice, "But don't ever come in here again. Do I make myself clear?"
The hissed word stung worse than a shout. Llewellyn stuttered as he felt imprisoned by those electric blue eyes. "Uh … b-but … Thor—"
"Laxus!" he snapped.
"L-Laxus," he whispered. Saying that name was saying the name of the man who loved his son, not the dominant who had fulfilled every kinky desire he ever wanted. His Thor! "I just really needed to see you again. That was all! Just to see you," he sighed, aching for those days of being the slave and this blond god lording over him.
Laxus turned his eyes away, sickened by the neediness he was witnessing. "Goddammit," he whispered. Would that past never stop haunting him? Coldly, he stated, "Three fucking days."
Llewellyn looked stunned. Not acceptance, not a rejection, just a statement from out of nowhere. "Wh-what?"
Frustration turned to outrage. "You've been gone for three … fucking … days!" Laxus bellowed. "And your family has no clue where you are."
"I have my cel– … um." He glanced down at his phone and frowned. "Okay, it's dead." He stubbornly grabbed his drink. "I … I just needed to get away." He gulped down the amber liquid. "You don't know the type of stress I'm going through, okay!" he screamed. "Stocks are down, and … and Bickslow—"
"Bickslow's in the hospital," he cut in.
Llewellyn's drunken rant stopped as his face paled. "W-What?"
"Yeah. Overdosed. Almost died." Laxus slapped the glass out of Llewellyn's hand, and it smashed to the floor. "It was on the fucking news!" he screamed.
Llewellyn blinked numbly. "B-b-but he said…" His breath caught as his brain focused and remembered. "Oh God. I was yelling at him." His lower lip trembled, recalling harsh words, things he said, things he did not mean. He shook his head in despair and gasped for air as thoughts of his family, his precious children, tormented his conscience. His face collapsed into his hands. "Oh God!" He looked sick, ready to vomit it all back up. He began to cry with guilt.
Laxus sighed and looked away. How could he stay mad when this man was still a father and cared for his children? He made mistakes; he was human, an adult, and under intense stress. Still, even when he fucked up, he loved his children. That much was apparent by the devastation at hearing his younger son had almost died. Rather than the enraged lecture Laxus had prepared, the blond sighed and spoke calmly.
"Look, he's in the Magnolia General Hospital. Evergreen and Freed are already there."
"Okay," he nodded, straightening up.
Again, Laxus saw pride and dignity. It had taken Freed a long time to slip into the role society expected of him. Llewellyn seemed to be a pro at putting on the mask. One minute he was a mewling masochist begging to return to his former master, the next he was a shattered father racked with guilt, and as soon as he realized he had to face the world, as swift as a sword strike, he was a gentleman again.
"Wait, how do you know this?" Llewellyn asked belatedly.
"Freed and I are together."
Llewellyn stared for a long time. Together. He was Laxus. Laxus belonged to Freed. Thor had been his master, but that was another man, a fantasy.
"Oh," he whispered. His eyes drifted. What sort of father was envious of his children? It was pathetic, undignified. He smiled against the pain. "Oh." His son had a man like this. He wanted the best for his children, and seriously this man was the best he had ever known. "I guess … yeah, he would take you back." Of course he would. Anyone would want this dominating god.
"I'm glad he did," Laxus nodded.
The faintest moan of disappointment slipped out as Llewellyn looked away. This man … his Thor … was now with his son … fucking his son … those things they had shared together, moments of pain, pleasure, hours together … things like that … now with his son…
"Get it through your skull, Llewellyn. We're in love."
He jolted out of the past and looked up in shock. In love! He had shared so much with Thor, but never love. Never had Thor shown him love. What was it like to receive not just pleasure from this man, but his love? What was a god's love even like? How powerful it must be!
"What you and I had was a business arrangement," Laxus said coldly. "I know it meant a lot to you, and you were good people, but you were a client. That's all. One … of many … clients."
Llewellyn dropped his head. It really did hurt to hear that. All those fantasies, all those nights dreaming of this man, having him do wonderful, sensual, kinky things to him, and Laxus had merely been there to collect a paycheck. A client! One of many!
"I wasn't very special, huh?" he whispered sadly.
Laxus despised how similar their voices were. Closing his eyes, it would be like talking to Freed. If things had been different, if Freed had remained a mere client, would he have had a conversation like this with him? Would those turquoise eyes had looked so miserable? Laxus gulped before he could continue. He had to be cold now. This issue could never come up again. Never! Here and now, it had to end. With just the two of them, together, more or less alone, it had to stop.
"The only thing that made you special was the fact that you weren't a raging pervert. So please." Laxus paused for a moment and looked at Llewellyn with earnestness. "Don't act that way." It was a heartfelt plea. This had to end. He wanted it to end good. For Freed's sake, this had to end good!
Llewellyn fisted up both hands. He knew the same thing. It would never go back to how it was. Thor was dead. This was Laxus, and Laxus belonged to Freed. Still … if this was not right … if this was fickle as love so often is … if there was any hope…
Struggling to say the words, he asked, "How serious … are you and … m-my son?"
Laxus' eyes narrowed fractionally. "Fucking serious."
Lewellyn took a slow breath. He needed to know. To move on … no, this was not just about him and his worn out desires. To accept this, to accept them, to protect his son, to protect the whole family, he had to know. He had to!
His eyes flashed up, the glare of a father protecting his child. "How … serious?"
Laxus was momentarily frozen by that paternal stare, but he faced this challenge without flinching. "Let me put it this way." He firmed up, and with the strongest, most somber expression he could give, Laxus asked, "Do I have permission to have him?"
The request stunned the older man. "W-wait, you mean—?"
"Do I have your permission? Your blessing?" Laxus did not flinch, blush, or show the anxiety racing frantically in his heart. He stared unblinking, waiting as Llewellyn slowly processed what was being asked.
"Uh!" he cried out in anguish. He had hoped it was something fleeting. They were both young, it was summer love, nothing more. Hearing this … he never expected it from any of his children so soon. He gulped hard and tried to regain his composure. "Uh … a-are you two…?"
"Not yet," Laxus said, skipping past all the stutters of surprise, "but I'd like to know I at least have your blessing for when I'm ready."
Laxus shifted his hand forward on the table, and Llewellyn glanced down to it. The light caught a gleam on the silver promise ring with an etched lightning bolt. Llewellyn looked up in astonishment and silent questioning. Laxus gave a wordless nod. Yes, that was Freed's ring. Llewellyn's happiness won over, and he blinked away tears.
"You're that serious, huh?"
"Yeah," Laxus answered, but he still gulped, waiting and worrying. If he did not have permission, then fuck them all. Still, family was everything to Freed. For his sake, Laxus wanted this. He needed it. He had to know the family approved.
"I see," Llewellyn said solemnly. He struggled between a grimace and a smile, the pain of realizing he had thoroughly lost his Thor, and the flooding joy of realizing his son had a man this amazing and this committed. "Well, if he's happy with you—" He stumbled over his words and laughed softly in apology. "It's awkward, you know."
"Yeah, I know it's awkward. Believe me, I know it's awkward."
Llewellyn nodded in agreement, then looked up firmly. "Yes. You have my blessing."
The tension in Laxus' shoulders sank. "Thank you." He closed his mouth tightly before his voice cracked in emotion. It took him a moment to regain composure. "Don't worry about it; it's not any time soon. I just want you to know … yeah, I'm serious. Freed is not a client to me. He's not some fun fuck-buddy. He's my boyfriend," he said seriously before a small smile slipped out, "and I love him."
Llewellyn was honestly touched by the gentleness in Laxus' declaration. This was indeed a man he never got to know. Thor was an act, a theatrical performance. This man before him was the reality, someone who could smile so warmly as he spoke aloud about how strongly he felt toward the one he loved. Llewellyn realized he could never compete. There was not even a competition for his heart. This thunder god's heart belonged fully to one man only.
"Got it," he said softly, fully surrendering, "and I wish the best to you. Freed is … one lucky kid," he said in happiness and deep pain.
"I'm the one who's lucky," Laxus smiled privately. "Now you, go take care of your family."
"All right. I'll get going." He pushed back his chair and stood, but he stumbled a little, still drunk. He motioned to one of the workers who knew the signal. Time to call a cab!
"Good," Laxus nodded. This man was in no condition to drive and needed a shower before he went in front of television cameras. Laxus realized he really was a pathetic mess. He stood in front of Llewellyn and yanked his tie straight.
"Oh, and um … be more cautious about where you hang out," Laxus advised as he smoothed down the moosey hair, just as he had done for Freed less than an hour ago. "Your family is getting enough bad reputation right now. Lay off the clubs, at least for a little while."
Llewellyn looked down at the shambling wreck he had become. "Yeah, I guess you're right." He felt Laxus' massive hands tugging his clothes and hair into something presentable and blushed at the attention. Meekly, he glanced up into those deep blue eyes. "It is good to see you again."
Laxus looked cold, but he smoothed down the same weird cowlick Freed had. "You'll be seeing me a lot more."
"Yeah?" he grinned.
Laxus took a step back and clarified frigidly. "With Freed!"
The hope faded again. "U-um, right." He reminded himself of his blessing, looked up firmly, and gave a business-like nod to Laxus. "Have a good day."
"Yeah, see ya."
Someone came forward to help Llewellyn stumble out, telling him the cab was already waiting. Laxus watched him go and shook his head. It was a shame, but it had to happen. It was over. Llewellyn was a gentleman. He had given his blessing and would not repeal it. It was a promise to also leave Laxus alone. No more stalking him to his work. No more pining gazes. No more attempts to touch him. It was over!
A dominatrix with long red hair strode forward with her head cocked to the side and her weary eyes gleaming. Flare had been waiting and watching ever since Laxus' phone call, mostly to make sure he kept his promise not to start a fight here in her club. Now she brought him a drink. Although it was still morning, she figured that after a confrontation like that, anyone would need a stiff drink. She set the shot glass on the table and looked at him with dole eyes.
"Well, what's that about?" she asked in amusement.
Laxus nodded to her in familiarity. "Hey, Flare." He picked up the shot glass and sniffed it. Not top-shelf whiskey, but it was free and he needed it. He tipped it back and drank the shot in one go. He groaned as it burned down, not smooth at all like his normal, but still calming. "Family issues."
"Family?" She watched as Llewellyn left and chuckled slightly at the paunchy man. "He doesn't look like you."
"My boyfriend's dad," he clarified.
"Ah, okay."
She recalled his confession on the phone that he was fucking her annoying customer's son. It did not seem like Laxus, to get involved in the family issues of his submissive. But now … boyfriend? That cute green-haired submissive who used to follow Laxus into this club must be more exclusively his than she first imagined. She eyed the blond in sluggish amusement.
"So, are you coming back?"
He jolted at the offer. "Wait, seriously?"
Her thin shoulders shrugged in a slow and syrupy movement. "We could use you."
Laxus tried to restrain his smile. "I can have my job back?"
"Sure, if you want it … and if you don't disappear again!"
This was a job he actually liked, working under his own conditions, not being ordered, not having to serve anyone else. It was hardly even a job, besides the occasional electrical maintenance. After all, on his taxes he still technically was an electrician. "Still need a sadist?"
Flare gave that slow shrug again, weaving on her feet like a willow branch. "I'm getting too tired these days. All that whipping!" She flipped back her lengthy, flaming hair. "I could use someone for paddling. Got an exhibition coming up."
"All right. But you know my rule?"
"Yes, yes," she nodded in exasperation. "We provide the toys."
"That's right," he said firmly. The rule never changed. He was not about to use his paddles, his crop, his toys on anyone else but Freed.
"Can you provide at least one masochist? We're, um … we're a little short."
He looked concerned. "What happened?"
Flare gave an unconcerned shrug of her emaciated shoulders. "Oh, one's pregnant and can't do it anymore, and the other … took things a little too far."
Laxus grunted. It was a problem when masochists were either pregnant or pushed their limits and ended up injured. The club had plenty of volunteers, of course, but for exhibitions they needed someone well-trained and willing to be put on display. "Well, if I can convince him. My boyfriend."
Flare grinned in excitement. "Oh, that would be cute!" She had found that green-haired submissive to be so adorable, so eager to please his master. "Try to convince him, okay? It'll be in three weeks. You have time to prepare him."
Laxus gave a brief laugh, already thinking of the things he could do to Freed here in the fetish club, in front of others, where they were safe but where they could still be the kinky bastards they were by nature. "I'll have him pampered and primped."
"Mmh, sounds good," she purred, licking her lips as she saw a fellow dominant and the look they both got when plotting something particularly delightful and kinky. "Come into work, okay?"
Laxus realized something. "Yeah, can I have another week? You know, settling in. Just got back into the States." He used that as an excuse, but really he knew that Freed would be off this week as well before starting his new job. He wanted to spend the whole time together.
"Oh. Yeah, I guess that's good," Flare reasoned. "One week then. Next Monday."
"All right."
"Good." She curled her finger under his chin and smiled slyly. "See you then."
He scoffed awkwardly and brushed her hand off. "Don't try flirting, Flare." He held up his hand. On his finger was the silver promise ring he had not taken off yet since exchanging rings with Freed.
She pulled back at the ring marking him as being exclusive. "Aww. It's a shame."
She shrugged it off. There was a rule in this club. If someone wanted you to back off, you obeyed. Dominants were especially targeted in this rule. No meant no, and everyone had to respect the fact that some people were exclusive. They might do things in demonstration like Laxus used to do, but they had only one partner who could touch them.
She gave him a wave and strode back to her work. "See ya, Laxus."
"Yeah," he nodded. Laxus looked around the club. He had a job!

Freed came through the door late and tired. He saw lights were on and heard the television chattering. He momentarily worried that maybe he left things on that morning. Then he saw Laxus rush out from the living room and look at him with a worried expression that immediately turned to a smile, and was just as quickly forced back down into something close to impassive.
"Hey Freed," he greeted gruffly.
He sighed, glad to see he was still there. "Hi," he said, his voice weak.
Laxus walked forward and helped him to take off his coat and hold him steady as he removed his shoes. "You look worn out."
Freed tucked his shoes aside and loosened his tie, easily undoing one button on his shirt. "Long day."
Laxus motioned him to go on to the bedroom. Freed walked across the condo, unbuttoning his cuffs and stretching his wrists.
Meanwhile, Laxus turned off the television. He had been watching the news all day, hoping for an update, seeing interviews, one made by Freed, another by a sobered-up Llewellyn. Luckily the news seemed not all that interested anymore in some CEO's younger son having a drug problem. It was the fire across town that held their attention now, and Laxus saw Natsu was being blamed for arson. He got a call from Gray late that afternoon warning him that he and Natsu were going to vanish for a while. Laxus wished them luck and gave him a few contacts outside of town who could help them lay low until they could prove it was a mere accident.
It really was a crazy day all around.
As Freed reached the bedroom, he finished undoing his shirt buttons. Laxus followed soon after and sat on the bed to watch him. This was not a strip show, and Freed looked too tired to even realize he was being ogled. This was just undressing after a long, weary day.
"So, how is he?" asked Laxus.
Freed fiddled with his belt buckle and gave another sigh. "Bickslow's good. They've got him on medications." He yanked his pants down and slid out of his socks. "There's a nice lady there. White, short hair. Lisanna," he recalled. "She's taking care of him." He laughed to himself as he removed his underwear and slid into loose boxers and an old teeshirt for the night. "He looks totally smitten by her."
Laxus arched an eyebrow. "Smitten?"
"Yeah! You know, blushing when she's around—"
"Smitten?" he asked again, smirking at the old-fashion way Freed sometimes talked.
"Oh, shut up. Smitten's a word," he insisted, blushing at the teasing.
"Dude," Laxus exclaimed, shaking his head. "Smitten?"
"Shut up!" he laughed, leaving the bedroom to find something to drink.
It dawned on Freed belatedly, he had just changed his clothes with Laxus watching, and he had done nothing sexy. It could have been the perfect opportunity, but his brain was not in a sensual mood. Neither had Laxus done anything, no hums of approval nor jabs about how sexy he was. They were already slipping into domestic normalcy, and it was a sweet idea.
Laxus followed behind Freed, giving him space and watching his body language. They went to the kitchen, and Freed poured out some juice. Out of nowhere, Laxus stated, "He wants to bang her, huh?"
Freed jolted and almost lost his cup. "Wha-? N-no— Maybe, but…" He frowned and cried out, "Oh come on! Give the guy a chance."
Laxus shook his head in mere amusement. Hitting on the nurses: he could totally imagine Bickslow doing that. "So, she's gonna clean him up, huh?"
Freed's expression went pensive. "Yeah, hopefully," he said with a crinkle between his brows. He drank down his juice and set the cup aside. "I mean, if he likes her, he might try to impress her, and hopefully he straightens up himself for her sake."
Freed looked over at a picture on the wall of the three of them: him, Evergreen, and Bickslow. They had been so inseparable as children, rarely fought like normal siblings. In a world that expected so much from them, they had each other's backs.
What did they have now?
Freed just got his degree and would be working at their father's company in a week. Evergreen graduated high school the previous year and was busy in university. Bickslow did not go straight into university. He said he needed time off to recover from the stress and to figure out what he wanted with his life.
He even went on a long trip through Europe the previous year to "find himself." It had seemed like a good idea, until he went to Amsterdam. Somehow, he got into the wrong crowd there. There was drinking, drugs, wild orgies, and scandalous pictures that luckily never made the news. After that, they heard only bad news. He passed out drunk in a public park in Munich, started a pub brawl in London, arrested for indecent exposure in Paris, was found on hallucinogens in Madrid, and finally was arrested for drug smuggling in Zurich.
Bickslow's vacation was cut short, he was forced to return back to Magnolia, and now he was stuck at home. At first it was house arrest while their father dealt with Swiss authorities, but Bickslow seemed to be content staying indoors, away from the world. Instead of finding himself, he was drifting further and further away, letting the drugs remove him from reality. No one had done anything about it until now. Freed felt guilty that he and Evergreen had not been right there with him, especially after the divorce. It was just him and his father now in that house, and Bickslow was alone to deal with the fallout of their parents splitting apart.
"He needs someone like that, someone who can convince him to keep going," Freed said with sadness inflected in his voice. "It's hard on him."
"How's it hard on him?" asked Laxus. From what he had seen, Bickslow loafed about, no job, no school, no worries.
Freed looked peeved that he had to explain it, but only because this was a sensitive subject to the whole family. "Well, I'm gay," he cried out.
"So?" Laxus shrugged, not seeing how that had anything to do with Bickslow's drug addiction.
"So, you know … family name being passed on, parent's bugging Bickslow, he has to get married and have babies and carry on the legacy and provide me with a nephew so that I can train my nephew to be the next CEO—"
"Oh God, are you kidding me?" Laxus shouted. "That's, like, so … 1800s!" he yelled, outraged that any parent would pressure their child for such a stupid reason.
"Yeah, well, it still happens," Freed sighed.
He understood where his parents were coming from. Tradition was a hard thing to surrender, and family businesses needed a family to pass on the legacy. Companies collapsed without that sort of stability. He still hated it, and knowing his sexual orientation put this pressure on his younger brother always made Freed feel a little guilty.
"He's under a lot of pressure, and he's not good under pressure," he stressed.
Bickslow grew up carefree and happy, knowing he would not have to be bothered with the family's business. The day Freed came out as being homosexual … Freed had no idea what sort of conversation his parents must have had with Bickslow, but that had been the start of it. Suddenly, the whole family legacy rested on a mere teenager, and there was a sense of urgency in finding the perfect woman who could one day be his wife.
With no warning and nearly no preparation, it was Bickslow being forced to attend débutante balls, flirty young girls practically shoved at him, and then there were those quiet urgings from their mother: "Isn't she pretty? Her family has oil fields in Texas. She would make a sweet girlfriend, one day a beautiful wife, and it would bring in money to the family." Freed had been able to ignore those pressures since he never found girls to be attractive. Bickslow must have had it worse.
Freed knew firsthand, some of those girls just wanted sex, and they were tigresses waiting to shred the poor boy's clothes off. Unlike Freed who could remain a gentleman and ease aside the most tempting promises of pleasure, Bickslow grew to like the thrill. There were scandals and rumors of a few pregnancies. Soon everyone in their upper class circle knew about him, and he was not welcome around the young daughters anymore, which made the search for a suitable wife harder. When he no longer had sex to escape reality, he replaced it with anything he could: obsessive gaming, getting tattoos, drinking, smoking pot, and finally drugs. The family was probably lucky he sated himself with sex dolls instead of taking the same path as the other men in his family and hitting up strip clubs. Llewellyn and Freed were smart enough to keep their visits a secret and knew how to avoid the media. Bickslow seemed to attract attention no matter where he went.
"He's never been good under pressure," Freed muttered, "always slipping away into his fantasy world, playing with dolls. He's brilliant with computers, but … I dunno," he pouted. "I wouldn't put him in a high stress job, that's for sure."
Laxus merely hummed, and once again he was thankful his family was not rich with pressures like that. He had enough pressure to take over the Fairy Tail Pub after his grandfather retired. He never once got pressure about having kids. "Well, I hope you're not stressing him out, saying he needs to give you some nephews so you can raise them to be your successor."
"No, I'm … I'm not bugging him like that," he assured, finding that amusing. Him, teaching kids? "I keep telling him don't worry about it. I mean, I didn't even have a boyfriend, and … and now I have you." It was easier on the family when his parents could pretend this whole gay issue was merely a phase, teenage rebellion, and they could tell their friends that he would get over it after college. It became more real when Freed let them know he was dating a man. "The pressure was on a lot last year when everyone found out. I thought it…" He shook his head in anger. "I thought it'd have gone away without you around, but I guess not. Mother's been harping on him, and … it's just kinda too much."
He thought about what Bickslow had told him in the hospital. For weeks, Father kept vanishing for extended periods, sometimes for days, often coming home drunk. Mother was in France but still called every day asking Bickslow if he was trying to get out, urging him to find a girl, becoming an even more oppressive force in his life than when she lived at home. There was no one around but the servants, and most of them did not dare scold him when he wanted to slip away from reality with some cocaine, LSD, or heroin.
Laxus came up behind him and began to rub Freed's shoulders to work out the stress. "Well, you never know. Maybe he'll like that girl."
Freed leaned into him and laughed softly to himself as his body relaxed. "Heh. Yeah, maybe." He closed his eyes as Laxus' thumbs dug into his muscles. After remaining stiff and locking down his emotions for over twelve hours, it felt good to be here, knowing Laxus was supporting him. "So how'd you find my dad?" he asked curiously.
Laxus merely shrugged. "Put in a call to the right person."
"Easy as that?"
"Yeah. I got good contacts."
He muttered "Oh" and laughed privately. Sometimes, Freed imagined Laxus as some sort of super spy, knowing all the seedy underground kingpins, romping foggy alleys for secret meetings, a shadow striking at Magnolia's dark underbelly. That was silly, it was probably something simple, but he liked to think that Laxus had his own spy network.
"Where did you…? No, never mind. I probably don't want to know."
If Laxus had to use his contacts to find Llewellyn, Freed could imagine what sort of place his father had drifted off to. He had shown up at the hospital clean and groomed, but there was a glassiness to his eyes to show he had been drinking recently, and his pants hung loose. His father had not been eating well. Probably only those who really knew him would see the signs, but Freed realized right away, his father had been up to no good.
Laxus was glad Freed did not pry into the matter. It was best for the whole family if that sort of thing was quietly swept under the rug.
"Look…" Laxus stopped his shoulder massage and hugged Freed instead. "I know we had plans for today, but things came up. You look really exhausted. Let's just sleep, okay?"
Freed turned his head around and up to him. "Are you sure?"
"Yeah," he smiled. His poor angel looked ready to fall asleep. "I assume you ate dinner?"
"Y-yeah, me and Evergreen went out. We just needed to get out from the hospital, get away from our dad."
"That's fine. I ate. C'mon," he pulled Freed toward the bedroom. "Let's get to bed."
He still protested while being dragged by the wrist, "But, you wanted to—"
"Look, no offense," Laxus cut in, "but I'm not really in the mood, not with all of this." He paused, looked back down at him, and stroked Freed's cheek. "And I don't think you're in the mood," he said understandingly.
Freed sighed and smiled at the consideration of his own weariness. "Probably not." He wondered if he really did look as worn out as he felt.
"We can do it later. That's fine," Laxus assured him. He kissed Freed on the forehead. "Any time you're ready."
Freed felt glad that Laxus was being so considerate. "We'll see what tomorrow will bring."
Laxus had to chuckle. "Isn't that lyrics?"
"Yeah," he blushed with a meek shrug.
"Cute." He kissed Freed's forehead again. "Get to bed before I fuck you."
Freed blushed and chuckled. "Yes, Mas-…"
"Don't call me Master, or I really will!"
Freed smirked, liking that he could rile him up. "Yes, Laxus." He tiptoed and kissed him on the mouth.
Laxus gazed down adoringly. "God, I love you." He grabbed the back of Freed's head and kissed him with passion. He felt those slender hands grasp at him, but he also realized Freed's hold was weaker than his usual strength of a champion swordsman. He was tired and emotionally drained. They both were. Laxus pulled back and ordered, "Into bed!"
Freed smiled flippantly. "Alrighty."
He turned and walked to the bedroom, his long hair swaying across his butt with each step. Laxus took a moment to compose himself. Seriously, this little incubus of his was either a demon or an angel, he didn't even know anymore, but Laxus knew that he loved Freed … very much! Knowing he had Llewellyn's blessing eased his mind. When they were ready…
Whenever the time was right…
He pushed the thought aside. He turned the lights off around the condo and stepped into the bedroom to see Freed already collapsed on the pillows, his hair a green fan around the sheets, looking like he might be asleep already. Laxus turned off the light, walked over to the bed in the dark, and slid under the covers.
A part of him realized, this was the first time he and Freed would simply sleep together. No sex, no kinks, not passing out in sensual exhaustion. Just sleep.
Freed rolled to his side and spooned into Laxus. The blond wrapped around him, an arm draped over his thin waist, and nuzzled into the green hair. Silently, he kissed the back of Freed's neck. He heard a hum of happiness, but nothing else. Freed truly must have been drained. In under a minute, Laxus heard him breathing heavily in sleep. He kissed Freed's hair and closed his eyes until sleep came, and with it dreams of a happy, bright, love-filled future.

Next Chapter: Morning Preparations
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