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Ripples danced over Freed’s drink, matching the vibrations that had numbed his legs from the moment of their arrival. Some deemed to call it music—toneless individuals who knew nothing of music composition or motifs, he decided. What he did know of the mangled tones of electric beats that commingled together in sounds that tore at his eardrums was that it did nothing for the pounding headache he was experiencing. Even the walls vibrated under duress with the loudest bass this side of Fiore, if the scones were any indicator.
He knew exactly why he was at the ‘popping’—was that the correct term he had heard used earlier? Not that it mattered—no, the reason he found himself at a club late into the night and not home sleeping or reading was simply due to his unavoidable notion of chivalry, and being asked to be the designated driver for the night by the man he’d give everything for.
“We need someone I can rely on,” Laxus had said, deep voice rumbling from that glorious chest made him shiver. “Remember what happened last month when we had Evergreen drive us?”
“Unfortunately, I do,” Freed sighed, closed his eyes, and rubbed the bridge of his nose. A deep settling of anxiety already forming in the pit of his stomach at the mere thought of going to a club. “You woke me from my slumber by calling in a drunken state and loudly told me how she had departed abruptly due to you questioning her love life.”
“Not my fault she’s so insecure about it,” Laxus said and shrugged. “Does that mean you’ll do it?”
Of course, he would.
There were many things he would endure to bring a smirk to those lips, a crinkle to those eyes. And if being out in noisy clubs on a Friday night did that, then how dare he try to disrupt that.
So, there he sat, pressed in a booth of his acquaintances, nursing a glass of water he severely questioned its cleanliness if the white floaters held any clues, and questioned where he went wrong in his path. On the dance floor below their balcony seating, a swirling mass of bodies pressed together, swaying to the music, and grinding to animalistic needs. Their movements added to the sweltering air that condensed on his skin and soaked his clothes in sweat.
Floaters be damned, if he didn’t stay hydrated then his headache wouldn’t subside and the night would drag further on.
Swirling lights flashed and flickered through the smoke that snaked through the air, catching the beams of light midair. A ballet of colors and whiffs of machine and human created smoke. Each breath of the foul stench burned his lungs, and not long after entering the establishment, had left Feeed wondering if he’d be sober enough to drive by the end of the night.
When he focused on anything but the white particles floating without care in his water, the floor of the balcony would twist and sink as people ‘walk’ by. They were likely walking, he presumed, but his mind saw them moving like old black and white cartoon characters taking long strides. Bodies turning into disproportionate creatures set to haunt the dreams of children. Not even his associates who shared the booth with him had been spared. When he had braved a glance at them, their heads stretched high towards the ceiling into points. It reminded him of what his eyes did with lights at night, or that extremely corny old television show he had glimpsed once as a child.
“There must be some residue of a drug in the air,” he mumbled to himself, even as it remained unheard over the music. Glass suddenly sitting empty on the table. A droplet of condensation racing downward. He felt the cool liquid making its way down his esophagus and settle heavily in his stomach, adding to the weight on his already straining bladder. How many glasses had he consumed already?
Fabric rubbed uncomfortably at his neck, damp from the sweat he had already pumped out. Pulling at the collar, he wished he had worn something a little less sophisticated and maybe something that could breathe. Maybe next time he would ask Laxus to help him dress for such an outing, not that he expected nor wanted a next time.
“You doin’ all right?” Laxus’ lips caressed the slightest bits of hair on his ear, whisper-yelling to him.
Something loud hits the bottom of the table and Freed can’t help the hiss of pain from his now bruised knee, but felt glad it overwhelmed the shivers those lips had sent down to his toes. Not that it helped. A different form of heat spread out through his veins, inflamed the skin those lips had pressed against, and coiled downward.
Tight pants might have been a ruinous choice, he decided, trying to calm his roaring thoughts. The only reason Laxus got that close had been to ensure his words had been heard. Nothing more, nothing less. He just…happened to get a bit too close, but knowing that it did little to help calm him down.
“Of course.” He refused to turn his head, deciding to not look at his best friend while struggling to keep his dick down. If he didn’t excuse himself to the bathroom soon, there’d be further embarrassment. From the lips against his ears, the lights, the heat, the drugs, and his bladder reminding him just how many glasses of water he had consumed no matter if he remembered them or not, if he did not get out of there soon, things would end in disaster. “You merely startled me, the noise in here is quite loud and I require the need of the restroom. I shall return shortly.”
Pushing himself from his place at the end of the booth, it took every ounce of effort and control he had to keeping from staggering or stumbling once his legs found themselves supporting his body weight again. Trying to keep the room from spinning took a bit longer. Surprisingly, he found looking down at the mess of bodies rubbing into each other on the dance floor below, enthralled in the utter chaos that places like this thrive on, helped center him mentally and physically.
Humans were fascinating specimens, but they confounded him in many ways. One of them being how he managed to share any similar characteristics as them as they wiggled about in such cramp conditions, wrapped up in their drive towards earthly desires. None of it looked even comfortable or enjoyable.
A bizarre figure with large eyes and limbs that couldn’t decide how they wanted to conform to the torso came up to their table, a tray of food and drinks piled high held in hand. This was the waitress, he reasoned, then wondered how he would actually drive tonight. That thought dissipated quickly when delectable aroma of grease and fried foods cleared his mind and sent an unheard growl through his stomach.
Ah yes, the other part of being the designated driver meant he ate and drank non-alcoholic drinks at no cost to his own wallet. An agreed upon pact by all members of the group to make it fair to whoever ended up the driver. Eyeing the basket of onion rings, he turned back to his best friend and caught his attention.
Freed pressed his lips tight and felt his toes curl at the smirk Laxus gave him. “I gotcha covered, Freed. None shall touch the onion rings until you get back.” Nodding curtly, he strove off, determined to walk like a normal person and not look like a childish cartoon character.
Honestly, if his bladder didn’t feel like a balloon ready to pop, he would have just tried to hold it in until he finally managed to escape to the solitude of his home. Before the club had gotten overcrowded, he had already made a visit to the far from acceptable restrooms. Now, he could only imagine the wait he would need to endure to get into a stall since he refused to stand at the urinal. The very thought left him feeling in a desperate need for a shower.
Unfortunately, he needed to get to the bathroom first, and the way the club swayed, dipped, and warped around him. Faces blended together, some from a further distance than others. Morbid and bizarre, it left him reeling and fascinated all together. An urge to study this visual impairment ensured him, without a fraction of a doubt, that he was not actually sober anymore and had failed in his designated duties as the ride home.
Did the others already know by his behavior, he stiffened at the thought. If the others did, that meant Laxus knew. A cold wave of dread filled him from the shoulders down and left him breathless. A disappointment like that would leave a bad taste in anyone’s mouth. If he had been tasked with such an important request, had been given the privilege of consuming both drink and food free of payment, then was he not just taking advantage of those trusting him? Was he not leading them to failure when he eventually admitted to not being able to drive them home?
His mind began to delve into theories. Scenarios of worse case scenarios and judgement of those back at the booth. Those around him stared with enlarged eyes, gaping mouths, and smiles that twisted and spun. Everything narrowed down into a dark tunnel he could barely see through.
Magic could be negated, energy dampened like the bracelet around his wrist: a requirement to be allowed into the club. Meant to keep all the customers safe if an over eager patron got too rowdy, too inebriated, and used their powers to prove a point. Only the bouncers who monitored the entrances and had a specific key to for the bracelets could put them on or take them off.
If the group left him, and he could not drive, anything could happen to him in this state. Episodes of crime documentaries rushed through his memories. Scenarios from books he had read flashed violently forward with equally violent imagery.
It was too much.
All too much, shoving passed the crowd of people and further down the hallway until he came across a door labeled BATHROOM.
His lungs nearly collapsed as he pushed inward and relished in the muted sounds. Hurrying to the sink, he ducked his head into the bowl, glad that they weren’t the small rectangular ones at most establishments, and pushed all the air he could out of his lungs until his body shook. Until the count of five, he held his breath, using the pulsing in his ears as his measurement, and then took in as much of the drain-mildew air through his nose as he could for another ten count. Each lung full of air he let out through his nose, focused, counted. Slowly, meticulously bit by bit, he managed to calm down and focus on himself, on each breath, each beat of his heart, everything.
Nothing would happen, he told himself. Nothing! And if anything were to happen, Laxus would take care of things.
Turning the faucet handles, he splashed blessedly cool water over his face and neck, watching without care as the droplets fell around the porcelain. Each drip a reminder to slowly unlock a finger, a shoulder, every little muscle from its tensed position until he felt shrunken and loose. Everything slowed for those few minutes, even as a little inkling in the back of his mind tried to catch his attention. Tried to warn him of something. What it was, his conscience self and focus couldn’t comprehend yet.
It’s only when he finally glances at himself and the room around him that things begin to click into place. The reason why he had been able to get into the restroom without waiting or shoving people aside to get to the sinks.
Previously, he had visited a bathroom with more urinals along the wall than he wished to count, and about a handful of actual stalls. Half of the all the available places to do business had some form of malignant growth he dared not touch even with a stick, and the other half featured the stunning display of hospitality catered by fellow humans of not flushing.
Freed could only guess how they would look now with more patrons and more alcohol.
This restroom, though, only had two stalls and no urinals. The sinks were nicer, too, albeit with a little dust in the corners, and along the far wall in front of the stalls was a long, textured bar.
Oh.
In his panic, he must have gone into the sectioned off part of the hallway. Only staff and those patrons with disabilities were allowed there, and now he realized why.
For a moment, he felt a bit haughty feeling that such a space should be available to everyone. Even with the light layer of dust, it looked significantly cleaner than the general public one. And the noise level—a soothing toned down from the loud music outside—helped sooth his ragged nerves. Even the air felt cleaner.
After that moment, deep shame burned in his gut and he felt sick. This bathroom, he reminded himself, served people who could not be normal even to those without magic. Those people like Laxus’ cousin, Lucy. What right did he have to say a blind girl shouldn’t be able to use a bathroom that was easier for her to use without the hassle of waiting in line and being jostled about like a sardine? Even for someone like him who could see, it was beyond frustrating, and people could be cruel even in the best scenarios.
That shame almost took him back outside into the darkened hallway to face the inevitable crowded line of the general bathroom, but…
He was already there, and as long as there was running water so he could wash his hands, he would take the solitude where he could.
Nerves vibrating in a higher frequency again, Freed felt compelled to make sure no one else was taking shelter and check both of the stalls one by one. A simple endeavor since there were only two. To his immense relief, they were fairly clean, as well. No human waste forgotten floating around to be seen or inconspicuous green stains growing under the seats. Just normal, clean as to be expected, toilets.
Emboldened, he stepped into the stall the farthest from the door and locked himself inside. Then, and only then, in that enclosed space without anyone around, the music outside a distance beating through the walls, and the haze of drugged air gone, he found a bit of peace.
Exhausted peace, granted, one that left him envisioning his bed at home, curled up in the blankets, classical music playing to calm him into a steady sleep, and lavender enhanced water misted over his pillows. He let out a groan, “When will this night be over?”
Instead of this hell of the senses, he could be reading or watching something on the lacrima. There have been many nights Laxus had stayed in with him and watch a movie or shared a discussion over dinner. They could have been there, cuddled under blankets—maybe not cuddling, but their knees sometimes brush against each other—and they could be wearing pajamas. Comfortable clothes!
Heat flushed up along his neck and to the tips of his ears at the thought of Laxus and what exactly the lightning wielder had decided to wear to the club.
The shirt—if it could even be called that, which he would like to insist otherwise—revealed a hefty amount of skin. He had heard of cut-offs, he even owned a few modest ones himself, but never before had he seen one like that. Pink and cut in just the right way that it ended just below the man’s pecs, but grew in length towards the back. Every time Laxus lifted his arm, one—or sometimes if luck graced him, both—of his dusky nipples would make an appearance.
The flawless washboard of his abs drew in eyes of nearly everyone around no matter their gender, and flexed with each gulp, bellow, and roar. But those perk nipples did not just appear from the bottom. No, whether it had been Laxus himself or some brilliant bastard who had designed the shirt, the lack of sleeves that practically made the shirt a shoulder drape besides the thin strips at the bottom connecting the fabric, showed off just as much skin from the side. Having no sleeves also wrote a love letter to the way Laxus’ arms bulged and flexed, showcasing just how hard he worked to keep his strength up.
And the leather pants.
He felt like a volcano erupted from so much pressure: A build up in his chest and pants. Every single pair of those types of pants in Laxus’ collection deserved to be burn for the way they clung to each curve and muscle. If he hadn’t been sitting next to him earlier and—purposely—rubbed their legs together once or twice, no one would have doubted him if he thought the pants were painted on.
They showed so much yet still so little in regards to the glorious, god-like body. It left him wanting to run his hands up muscled legs, followed closely by his tongue, squeeze each of his taunt butt cheeks, and nose the bulge he knew he had seen several times before A bulge he could easily say was god-like in every way.
Shame flushed through him again, and he had to cover his face with his hands. Eyes squeezed shut in hopeless denial. “Freed, you imbecile. He is your best friend! We definitely should not be fixated or envisioning him like that!” At this rate, he would never be able to leave the stall and face any of their friends out there.
Especially not the blond he wanted to worship. On his knees. With a heavy weight on his tongue.
No, he was in no position to complain about clothing when his own clothes were custom made to fit his own assets perfectly. Maybe not to the extent of Laxus’ leather pants, but his family specializing in fashion and were renown tailors. The family discount helped to provide a reason for dark eyes to linger.
“You truly are the worst,” he sighed, banging his head against the stall door.
Wood slammed against the brick wall, startling him back from the stall door. Once muted music screamed through the open frame until the door slammed shut and a different sound made him blanche in realization.
There were others in the bathroom with him!
Panting and moans filled the air. A feminine gasp of pleasure and the distinctive grating of the dead bolt sliding into place reverberated deep within his soul.
They locked the door. Locked all three of them in the bathroom. In his desperation to get away from the crowd, he had become the unenthusiastic third wheel of two rather promiscuous individuals.
It would be fine, he told himself. Situations like this occur several times, especially in clubs where the attendees were often not of sound mind. Many a book and movie showcased the event with the viewer eager for the characters to finally push pass that bump in their path. While it would be awkward to listen to strangers go at it, nothing could drive him from his hidden corner and endure the scrutiny of being in a bathroom not meant for him or the embarrassment of all parties if we showed face. They would leave once they had their fill, and then he’d be free of this hell.
“Natsu!”
That voice, he choked, vision narrowing once more and a chill ran through him.
Not only did he know who that voice belonged to, the name they—moaned, bile rose up threatening—but also who they were related to!
No, no, no, he could not endure listening to this. How could this night keep getting worse, he inwardly groan.
Why in the world would Lucy Heartfilia, Laxus’ own cousin and adopted little sister, be with someone like Natsu Dragneel? He had met her many times, though never took the time to get to know her beyond that. Their friend group did not mingle much besides when Laxus was involved.
By the time she had entered Laxus's life in a permanent manner, they had already been in college and mingling with High School students held absolutely no appeal. Still, when they had met, he could reliably say that she had a head on her shoulders and held an intelligence much like his own. She even carried a bag with her always that he had assumed carried the books he had seen her reading in passing or the tablet she used.
Had he ever seen her with the hot-headed Natsu before?
Yes, they had been sitting next to each other in the booth earlier, but she had also been sitting next to Levy, another person he had not expected to see at a club like this, until he saw who her boyfriend happened to be. How would someone like Natsu even know what a relationship was besides being friends or rivals?
Truly, the world lacked the social construct of space he had thought it had as a child.
There were people he thought would always be in different social circles interacting and intermingled in ways he had not grasped before. Ones who seemed to know each other on levels beyond his own imagination.
There were some people he had managed to fit outside of his preconceived bubble in some ways. He had known Levy as being a renown student, never failing to earn a place on the deans list in college, and he spoke to her often during the advance book club he had joined over a year ago that she ran. Those were things he had placed on her list of acknowledgements, but while he knew of her, he did not quite know her.
In his life, he focused his attention on a select few. People who proved to care for a mutual friendship and who he had known since childhood. Evergreen—a feisty woman gifted in a beauty she enjoyed flaunting and an attitude that drove her to be the best. Bickslow—a man who loved to make uncouth jokes, laugh, and lacked any sense of style other than proving others wrong of their initial preconceptions of him. Lastly, Laxus—his best friend, the person he had idolized since they were children, the de facto leader of their group, and the reason they were all friends.
Enduring the process of meeting new people and befriending them had been made easier with Laxus there. Without him, he would have never accepted opening to others. When Ever and Bix joined to make their small group, insecurities seemed to melt away and he managed to take a firm hold on most situations he found himself in.
This happened to be one of those he did not have a firm hold on.
“Fuck…” The word rolled into a deep moan from Natsu over the sounds of a belt hitting the floor. “Who would have thought you’d take my suggestion.”
“You thought I wouldn’t?” A squeal from Lucy and the dull thud of a body hitting a wall provided more imagery than Freed wanted. If he remembered correctly, Laxus had always been extremely protective of his cousin. Would he be upset if he did nothing to stop this?
“Yeah, but who knew ya’d go commando with such a short skirt.”
Nope, he would not be interrupting anything. Any wrath would be better than walking out to face either of them. Especially after the growl that echoed in the room.
Shamefully, it made him wonder what Laxus would sound like if he growled. Certainly, there had been situations where Laxus had growled, usually in anger and at people who enraged him, but he had never heard him growl. As Freed had just heard, there seemed to be a distinct difference between the two since he had heard Natsu make angry sounds before, too. More often than he cared to admit since they tended to be directed at Laxus.
No, Laxus’ growl would certainly be different. Deeper in pitch, reverberating from his barreled chest, voice husky and driven from desperate need. Those sinful lips pressed against his ear, teeth nipping at the outer shell. Their bodies merged together in a way that brought the most pleasure to both of them, and the sound of skin slapping together would fill the room…
The sound of skin slapping together would fill the room…
His eyes widened in realization.
Covering his mouth to keep the indignant words from escaping as the lewd sounds of sex filled the air. How had he forgotten about the two of them in the bathroom with him and clearly having sex against the wall?
It had to be due to the drugs in the air, he reasoned. Having been reduced to such a menial state from such effects, it seemed his mind had not cleared as much as he had thought.
Contrarily, in that moment he wished he had consumed something that would alter his mental state and dilute the happenings of the current situation. A firm, internal muffling of the sounds that came from the pair. Moans, gasps, and groans mingled with skin smacking and hisses. Listening to it, mind visualizing the scene against his will—none left him in a good state.
Even the mere thought of catching sight of them outside this situation brought a sense of ill shuddering down his bones.
Unbridled amounts of fear and anxiety left him reeling at the realization he would need to face them, and soon. They were at the same booth as the others, as Laxus. When they left and he managed to escape his prison, they would be seated across from him as if nothing had happened. What would Laxus say if he found him suddenly unable to face his cousin or her apparent boyfriend without his face heating in embarrassment?
The unsavory mixture of heat radiating from his face and the cold, clammy feel of his fists warred for prevalence over his sensory capacities. Fear and anger, resentment and illness surged up and fought against each other, upsetting his stomach further and leaving a burning sensation behind his eyes.
This had not what he had agreed to when accepting the roll of designated driver. He had not sought to be inebriated by the air of the club, or forced to endure listening to the baser needs of young adults in a public restroom. Nor had he purposely entered into a facility not designated for abled body patrons, leaving him stranded and imprisoned due to a sense of shame.
It would take ages for the embarrassment in his system to recede, or at least be reduced to a manageable amount where he felt he could leave the stall once finally alone. That would not mean he had the capacity of engaging with those he arrived with earlier that evening. And if he couldn’t manage that, then those who had counted on him to take them home safely would be left without a driver.
Laxus would surely be disappointment in him.
No, there must be a way out of this, he clenched his fists. If he waited for them to finish and leave, then he would be able to follow shortly after. With the dimness of the club, there would be less chances of anyone noticing anything wrong with him. Laxus might suspect something, but the nightclub scene had never been his and the others had already laughed at his expense plenty of times after seeing a flash of skin he had not been expecting. Things would be fine, a plan would be followed, and he could get through this night, but…
What if Laxus came looking for him?
The bathroom door had been locked, and there were signs to deter people from this area—not that he noticed in his panic. No one would think he had willingly broken the rules and gone somewhere off limits. Even he could not believe that he had done so.
Those thoughts did not ease his growing worry at the thought of his friend searching for him. If there was one thing he could count on, it was Laxus going full out to find and protect those he counts as his. Be it friend or family, Laxus would tear the world apart to keep them safe.
Warmth grew in the pit of his stomach as did the tempo of the sounds filling his ears. If they hurried, he could rush back to relieve any stress his disappearance might have caused. Against his better judgement, he silently urged the two to finish faster instead of just stopping, a scenario he never thought he would find himself in.
The erratic movements and sounds meant they were close. Breathy moans and whispered names joined declarations of emotions he had not realized they felt for each other as groans brought about the end. At last, they would make themselves decent and he could finally leave.
“Ya doin’ all right?”
His hackles rose at the broken words Natsu used. Speaking in proper dialect would not be hard if one simply utilized common knowledge and know how. His lips pursed. The uncouth, and clearly vulgar, man had no true barring of the high-class Lucy had come from, or he would have shown her a greater amount of respect.
If Laxus knew how his beloved cousin had been treated—rutted against a dingy wall in an abysmally crass club—he would break the younger man and leave him to be feasted on by maggots.
Realization dawned on him, eyes widening at the thought that came with it. From late night conversations he had previously with Laxus, he had come to understand that the protective feelings his friend had were shared by his younger cousin. That meant Lucy could be a formidable gatekeeper to anyone wanting to be part of Laxus’ romantic life.
That also meant certain aspects of her life would want to be kept hidden. Semi-public sex while wearing no underwear in a packed club would certainly fit that bill, one could presume.
If she had information regarding any particulars Laxus might have for dating—if he preferred one gender over the other, spoke of any potential love interests, or what might draw his attention—she would be the one to know.
No matter how long they had known each other, or how proud he was considering Laxus as his best friend, neither had ever spoken to the other of romantic partners or their preferences. Even when their whole group of four spent time together, they avoided such topics.
Unless it came up in topic, like Evergreen's romantic status had last club night.
Many might deem that strange, he realized, but the topics barely came up, and when they started to tread close, Ever and Bix usually took over the conversations and left no room for commentary from either of them.
Enduring this embarrassing debacle might have been a silver lining, if one could call it that considering what he had heard.
“—cleaned up?”
Realizing he missed most of the conversation going-on outside of his cell, he forced himself to focus, the muscles of his face tugged downward. Briefly, he wondered if they would part ways after such an degenerate act.
No, that would be ludicrous. While he knew Laxus’ cousin to be self-reliant, there could only be so much one could do in a loud club, high on the air alone, and unable to safely use any of her tools to see. If Natsu claimed to love her, as each word they had whispered to the other had revealed—and it would be hard to hid the true emotions in I love you—then he would take her back with him.
And still, he stood in his cramped stall as the deadbolt slid out of the frame and the sounds of the club bellowed like a banshee rushing for their victim. If they spoke anymore, the music drowned it out until the door shut and muted all sounds once more.
A critical moment had finally arrived for him. Freedom from his self-imposed prison, and the chance to finally get back to Laxus and the rest of the group. It would be best to hurry before anyone else stumbled upon him and his current level of shame. Trying to explain any possible reason for being in the handicap accessible restroom to their group of friends might have been worse than standing by a toilet that smelled of mildew as he listened to a couple go at it like animals in the same room. The amount of awkwardness would be palpable.
Later, when he had managed to sort through everything that happened in a comforting environment that helped sooth the anxiety, he could plan out how to approach the situation with Lucy Heartfilia. He knew if he did not take a chance, everything around him would remain the same. Emotions would remain hidden, but simmering beneath the surface. Voice monitored and words chosen carefully to ensure nothing slipped. Nights of resting on the couch together, discussing scenarios and topics that were contrive to stay far feelings.
Squeezing through the stall door after he managed to finally empty his bladder—embarrassing encounters did nothing to do away with bodily needs, he stepped slowly out and glanced around the small room. Everything looked exactly as it had when he first entered. Dust still lingered in the corners, the bars lined the wall, the muffled sounds of music. Nothing remained of the rendezvous that had gone on, or to hint toward it. No mess on the floor, or fog on the mirrors. The second sink had traces of water, he noticed as he washed his hands, but nothing else even whispered anyone else had been there with him.
If he had the ability to activate his demon’s eye, the scene of the debauchery would be revealed, but—he cleared his throat and pinched the bridge of his nose. What he had heard had been quite enough.
He glanced at the suppression bracelet around his wrist, and chastised himself silently. With so many people who could use abilities in the general public, many establishments like the club tended to utilize preventative steps to ensure their facilities were safe. If someone were to take their bracelet off without permission, an alert would go off and bouncers would swarm the person.
It helped not only the business, but the customers. Many had taken to using the bracelet as a means to call for help if they were being harassed or in bad shape. From what he remembered, many cases of sexual harassment and alcohol poisoning had been reduced after the introduction of the bracelets. And most clubs and bouncers made sure to assess the situation before randomly throwing people out.
Safety, in a world of magic, was always a critical point to cover.
Inadvertently, he realized, the bracelet had saved him from harm by diminishing Natsu’s senses enough he could not smell or sense him in the stall. What senses were lowered for Laxus, he wondered silently.
When enough time had passed since Natsu and Lucy left and he’d be able to head back without running into either, he made his way to the entrance, took a breath, and gripped the handle.
Deafening music assaulted him the moment he opened the door and stepped into the hallway. The actual bathrooms, the one he should have used and had walked past earlier unknowingly, had lines stretching out and around the corner. Just the sheer amount of traffic going in and out of both utilities flabbergasted him and left him secretly thrilled he hadn’t had to deal with the disasters that might have awaited him.
No matter how on top of things the establishment and its staff might be, no one could keep up with that.
Pushing through the throngs of dancing bodies, inhaling the scents of sweat, drugs, and other odors that assaulted his senses, he managed to catch a glimpse of their booth again. Both Natsu and Lucy were already at the table and snuggled right close to each other. Natsu even had an arm thrown over Lucy as she drank from a glass in her hands. Seeing them like this, he really must have been blind himself earlier.
Across from them, much to his chagrin, Laxus sat gripping his own drink with a white-knuckled grip. A deep-set redness piled over his cheeks, and his dark eyes narrowed. Without the bracelet in place, Freed knew from experience that there would be enough static in the air to give everyone a bad hair day.
The urge to pull him away from whatever caused such a reaction made him hurry through the crowds, bumping into other patrons and wait staff. When he was almost there, he caught Laxus' attention and their eyes locked.
Fire erupted deep in his belly. His pants tightening as he felt Laxus' eyes pull from his only to rake down and back up over his body. Feeling emboldened, Freed allowed his own eyes to trail over Laxus’ body. Unfortunately, neither of those dusky nipples were on display, but the memory of them stayed front and center. If tonight did not end soon, their friendship might not survive to morning.
It still might not, he realized.
The next instant, Laxus stood before him, fingers digging into his upper arms with enough strength to leave bruises…and Freed could not help but shudder in delight. There was a possessive feel of this action that left him wanting, even as the drug-filled air filled his lungs again and drove his inhibitions to their lowest.
“Are you okay?” Those were not the words that he expected to come from Laxus’ lips. Yes, Freed was out of his element in this club and felt like someone was continuously dipping his entire body into a vat of acid, but he was a grown adult.
“Of course, I am,” he answered, frowning. “Did something happen to cause you panic?” Being in a place like this, any numerous things could have happened, he knew. How many reports had he read of nightclubs being attacked, set on fire, or fights breaking out? Too many to count. If he had been locked away in the bathroom without a way to hear any of it, then he had come out blind.
Speaking of…
“I told you Natsu said the line for the bathroom was backed around the corner,” Lucy spoke up, face flushed in what he might assume as embarrassment if anyone might have guessed what she had done, but—Oh, he realized now. And the next words from Laxus only confirmed it.
“Natsu and Lucy had gone to see if they could find you.”
Interesting. He took in the discomfited look on Lucy’s face and felt a sense of revelry. As someone who lived in the world naturally with her other senses heightened, he wondered if she had realized at some point they weren’t alone in the restroom. That someone had actually heard what her and Natsu had done while they were supposedly looking for him.
“There was…a disturbance in the restroom I found myself in,” he explained, noticing two things at once: One, how still Lucy went at his words, and two, how dark Laxus’ eyes settled on him. His insides burned, and he couldn’t help but dash his tongue out to wet his lips. Those eyes flickered to the movement.
Maybe he could play his ace another night, and for a different reason. It seemed in that moment he might not need Lucy’s help in figuring out exactly what Laxus looked for in a partner.
“Will you two stop eye-fucking each other and either sit back down or leave to screw each other’s brains out?” Cana bellowed out, sending a glare their way. “It’s killing my buzz, and I’d rather get an iRide than watch you two pussyfooting around each other.
‘Plus,” she continued, bringing her mug to her lips, “we ate Freed’s onion rings. Whatcha gonna do about that?”
A spark of electricity shocked his arm, surprising him just as much as Laxus moving to wrap an arm around his waist. It felt possessive. Fiercely protective. And he felt the needy heaviness growing in his pants. “Laxus—”
“Then you all better call an iRide,” Laxus growled.
Freed choked and snapped his attention up at the man.
Laughter erupted from their booth, catching the attention of many around them, but he couldn’t draw his attention away from Laxus. From the heated body pressed against his, the hardened muscles, and strong arms that pressed him even closer. Of the thumb that managed to steal under his shirt and rubbed against his hip. Another shiver coursed through him and he felt his breath catch in his throat
How many romance books had he read that spent countless pages describing and building up to such a moment as this, he thought, breathless and eager. Words that painted the wicked needs the love interests shared between each other, building into a crescendo of desperation until they were ripping the clothes from each other and moving in ways that could make a courtesan blush.
A craving he desired and finally felt courage to take, albeit if that courage came from his drug-addled mind or from the heated look in the eyes consuming him. Those eyes that added fuel to the growing fire in his veins and groin.
Fortunately, he had more mental fortitude than another couple in their vicinity and would partake in the meal that is Laxus in the privacy of their own space. “Then we best be leaving. Laxus and I have a long night ahead of us.”
The arm around him tightened. More eyes were drawn to the eruption from their booth. Birds chirped in his ears along with the beating of his heart and he realized that movie nights might be a bit more interesting now. Freed looked up at Laxus, and with a smile on his lips, commanded, “Take me home.”
A wick smile pulled at Laxus' lips, “Hold tight.”
⸶⸸⸷ ※ ⸶⸸⸷ ※ ⸶⸸⸷ ※ ⸶⸸⸷
For a second time that night, Freed heard a door slam against a wall with the full force of two bodies against it, only this time, it was his turn to be making the noise. Hands gripped his hips tighter, nearly bruising the skin, and tongues fought for dominance between locked lips. A hand blindly grasped for the door, shutting it firmly and locking at least the deadbolt before he lost himself to the wall of muscles before him.
Fingers tangled in his hair, pulling his head back enough for their lips to break apart and travel down his jaw and neck. Red marks laid in their wake, promising to bruise by morning. “Laxus!” he cried, hands reaching out for any purchase he could grasp and ended up on the blond's firm ass. Oh—there might have been a moment he felt his entire being transcend without meaning to—there was nothing under those leather pants.
Laxus chuckled and lifted his head back up, their breaths mingling. “Like what you feel, Freed?” Any answer he might have given were captured along with his lips in a fierce battle. Saliva mingled, teeth knocked together, and lungs ached desperately for a mouthful of air that neither wanted to break for.
At some point, Freed’s arms wrapped around Laxus' neck and he used the broad shoulders to pull himself up. Hands gripped his ass and helped lift him. He wrapped his legs around Laxus' waist and keened when he felt the pressure and heat rub against his clothed dick. The friction of his clothes against him sent pleasure though his veins like the lightning this man controlled.
“L-Laxus!”
“Fuck, Freed.” Laxus sucked in a breath and hissed, grinding their cocks against the other, driving each other mad. “You don't realize how long I’ve wanted to do this to you. How long I wanted to call you mine.”
“You’d be—ahh!—gravely mistaken with that assumption,” Freed couldn’t help but counter, lashing out and between his teeth caught Laxus’ lower lip, worrying it gently and pulling rough before soothing the hurt with his tongue. “Now, to the bedroom. I expect to be bedded properly.”
“Bedded, you say?” Freed felt the chuckle more than he heard it against the beating of his heart. A groan escaped filled the air between them, and he shoved his tongue back into Laxus’ mouth to keep him from repeating anything else.
Blindly, they managed to get through the apartment with barely a stubbed toe or a door frame pressed into someone’s back, and they collapsed onto the downy comforter in a tangle of limbs and clothing. He had barely managed to tear the front of Laxus’ crop top in order to finally be allowed to swipe his fingers—his tongue against those dusky nipples that had been teasing all night before he realized both of his tops were tossed elsewhere in the room.
Large, warm hands trailed over the skin of his stomach and up to twist his nipples around just beyond the point of pleasure. Those same hands reached around him as his back arched up, one trailing under the band of his pants and over the curve of his ass, and the other at the back of his neck, keeping him in place.
Lips lavished the skin of his jawline. Teeth grazed over his Adam’s apple. A tongue dipped into the gaps of his collarbone. Each bit of sensation against skin growing quite abused sent a shudder through him. Shivers danced over the bumps along his skin, and an unbearable need built in his lower region. With a will of their own it seemed, Freed’s hips undulated relentlessly, seeking out the need for release.
“Shit!” Fingers dug into the skin of his hips and pressed him down into the mattress, stilling any movement. “Stop, or I’ll cream my pants.”
That sounds like a fine challenge, if Freed may say so, one he would pursue another night. Tonight, he had needs that would be taken care of, and he needed to know exactly what options were open to him. “What’s your refractory period?”
A pause settled between them, and Laxus lifted his head enough to give him an incredulous look. Strands of his golden hair fell over his darkened eyes. “About half an hour, sober. Why?”
Freed sighed, thinking over the possibilities of the night. With the late hour and both of them not fully sober, he could not ensure that one or both of them would pass out after finding a singular release. The relaxation of their entire muscle structure could be enough of a shock to reduce them to a lackluster night of sleep instead of the ragged remains attempting to recall their souls back. That would not do.
“It seems I have no choice then,” he lamented, and with a firm tightening of his legs, flipped them over. Red runes surged outward from his hands, danced between his fingers, and fluttered down his forearms, fading back into the pale skin of his forearm. Half of Freed’s face, in the darkness of the night, seemed to completely disappear into the darkness, with only a small sheen of outside light shimmering in his eyes. Lips moved, and from the depth of his throat, a single, powerful word pulsed between them. “Bind.”
Similar colored runes wrapped around Laxus’ wrists and pulled them up to the headboard. He pulled at the magic holding him hostage, the tendons and muscles in his arms flexing at the strength he put into each attempt. “Hey, what are you—Freed!”
Freed chuckled at his boyfriend—a possessive thrill of excitement rushed through him as he acknowledged the change in their relationship, tugging quite crossly at the leather pants that clung to the sweat-damp legs. Only a couple of hard pulls were needed before they were discarded absently with the boots shucked prior. His own pants and underwear fell in an ungraceful heap.
Crawling back over the bed, he paused for a moment at the nightstand to pull out a bottle of lube, and then straddled Laxus’ waist, sitting just in front of his at attention cock. The moan he let out was only muffled slightly by worrying his lower lip. “There’s something I want tonight,” he said, spreading lube over his fingers generously. “And I refuse to go any longer without it.”
Two fingers pushed inside him, forcing groans from both of them. One from the feel of the fingers inside, and the other from the pure look of pleasure from the other. A heated look of debauchery that Laxus would be dragging forward every moment he could.
He wanted to be shoving his fingers inside Freed, pressing inward knuckles deep and curling them just so to get those nerves that would make him see stars. He’d caress it over and over, moving his fingers inside, back and forth, in and out. Inserting a third before he was too loose not to feel the burn of an additional digit. Would push, harder, deeper. In his mouth, his other hand would curl around his jaw, fingers between those warm lips and pressing down on his tongue. Spit-roasting him on his fingers like the wanton beast he knew Freed could be.
Laxus wanted this man. Every nerve ending sparked and vibrated with need. “Freed. Freed!”
“Are you enjoying this performance, Laxus?” he asked, huskily. A third finger tries to press in with the other two and his eyes roll. “Does it please you to hear me make such levels of vulgarity while I imagine my fingers are yours. That you are the one preparing me to take your cock inside me.” Freed moans as the third finally finds purchase and he continues to work himself open.
“I always knew you were a dirty bastard, Freed.”
A shiver runs through him. Just the way Laxus says his name—a mixture of a growl, a hint of a moan, and dripping with a primal need that left no room for regards or regrets—thrilled him to no end. He needed him. Needed him now!
Pouring a healthy amount of lube directly onto Laxus’ dick, Freed pulled his fingers from himself with a groan and settled just above the head. “Watch me, Laxus,” he whispered, their eyes locked. “Watch me take you.” Then, he let himself fall.
Both men let out a groan. Freed let his head fall back, long hair flowing over his shoulders and down his back, and felt the uncomfortable pressure of Laxus’ cock pressing inside. He couldn’t help the gasp as the head nestled inside and he sunk lower down, taking more at his own pace, his firm grip on Laxus’ thighs kept him from moving. A pleasant burn spoke of his hurried prep, but it felt exhilarating. Felt like a warm embrace after a night terror that left him gasping and needing the physical reminder that he wasn’t alone.
And he wasn’t anymore. Laxus was his now, as more than a best friend, as more than someone who he pinned for continuously. Going to the club earlier had been a necessary evil, it turned out, for this final step to finally get what he had most desired.
He pushed himself to relax and pushed downwards, his ass cheeks met the firm muscles of the thighs below and the feel of being completely full. There were no words to describe it in that moment. There were too many emotions, too many desires and needs.
Freed adjusted his grip to press down onto Laxus’ pecs and began rocked, his hips moving up and down, the lube easing the friction of their skin against each other. Each movement tantalizing, bringing sounds to his lips that no other had ever heard before. Yet, already it wasn’t enough.
“Laxus.” He let out a breath, leaning forward so their lips barely grazed each other. At the freedom, the blond thrusted his hips as far up as he could, determined to hammer himself home and drive them both to competition. That wouldn’t do. “Laxus!”
“Fuck, Freed,” Laxus growled, digging his heels into the mattress and tried to use the leverage to meet Freed’s movements with his own. “Release me so I can fuck you until you can’t walk.”
One particular thrust caught Freed off guard, just barely brushing against something inside him that he needed more of. Had to follow that pleasure and grounded his hips downwards. “Only—Only if I stay on top!”
“Deal.”
Oh. That did not take much convincing.
“But next time, I’ll get to fuck you as I want.”
Freed couldn’t help the low groan. “Laxus…!”
The runes shimmered and shattered, freeing the blond from his shackles. In the next moment, fingers dug into his flesh, jolts of electricity spread from along his flesh and muscles, and he felt himself be lifted just enough for the hips below to start pistoning upwards.
Too much—! It was too much, but not enough! His nails curled up and dug into taunt skin, the muscles under his fingertips flexing and gathering sweat. One of the hands on his hips moved him slightly and—
Blinding white filled his vision. Whatever breath or word or moan that had been on his lips caught completely, silenced in the pleasure that consumed him. Too much…too much! Droplets of blood warmed the tips of his fingers, and still those hips below him continued to move. To pound into his relentlessly, into that something from earlier.
“L—Laxus!” Like a fish, his mouth gaped and gasped. A rapid build-up of pleasure grew in his gut, filled his own cock thick with blood, and hung it heavily between them. “I need…I need—!”
How did he describe what he needed when even he didn’t grasp it, he sobbed, throwing his head back, his entire body sitting up fully to ride the delicious cock pounding his insides. To grind down on the girth enough to punch gasps of air out of his lungs as each ripple of pleasure shot through him. Each thrust, every push of hips edged him closer to that precipice.
Laxus sat up suddenly, wrapped an arm around his ass and used the other to grip the back of his neck and pull him into a filthy, saliva coated kiss. Both of their tongues tangling together between one mouth to the other, tasting the other, refusing to let the other go. The arm around his waist showed the strength of those muscles as they continued to move him, making him nothing more than a hole to fuck into towards his own pleasure.
It was divine!
The hand around his neck pulled back, and a firm grip wrapped around his aching cock. His hips stuttered forward and he cried out. Teeth nipped at his chin, his jaw, as those strong fingers fisted him in the same speed as he was being fucked until the ground dropped out from under him. A shattered cry of pain, pleasure, and overwhelming emotions echoed through the room—a noise complaint future Freed would have to deal with. Present Freed felt the eruption of warmth spill over both of their chests, his cock sputtering out cum as the hand around it kept milking him.
Below him, Laxus’ breath also gave a stutter and the arm around him tighten. A last deep thrust pushed the cock inside him as deep as that position allowed before he felt the heated liquid fill his insides. Felt it leak out and spill between them even as they tried desperately to catch a lung-full of air.
Falling back onto the bed, their arms tangled up together, grasping for where they could and held each other close. Moments turned to minutes it felt like, their breathes turning from ragged gasps to steady, deep inhales that almost lulled them into a sense of sleep. As much as Freed’s body craved the endless darkness of sleep to gather his strength and energy for another bout of love-making in the morning, his mind ran rampant with new discoveries about himself and the man he loved that he had never considered before.
The raw need to overpower the other man, to drive his own pleasure from him, but also to let Laxus do what he wanted to him. To break him mentally and physically until he couldn’t even fathom where one of them ended and the other began. Or how their magics would feel against the other, and what other ways they could use them.
There was something to say that the idea of wanting to feel Laxus’ electricity being sent through his cock frightened him more than the desperate need for it did.
“I can feel your mind running,” Laxus said. Shifting them slightly, he bit out a groan as he fell from Freed’s body and adjusted them both into a comfortable position. “Whatever you’re thinking about can wait ‘til morning.”
“Even if I said I wanted another round?”
A blond eyebrow rose, but neither of Laxus’ eyes opened. “Is this why you wondered about how fast I can get hard again?”
That question didn’t deserve an answer, Freed decided with a frown, feeling himself being called out. Instead, he decided to direct the question back, “Are you saying you’re ready to go again so you don’t make me a liar?”
“Why’d you be a liar?” Laxus asked, mouth stretching wide with a yawn before he pushed himself up and padded his way to the bathroom. Barely a full minute had passed before he came back out with a fresh towel and a damp wash cloth. His own body wiped down quickly from the evidence of their love making.
“I told our friends we would be having a long night.” Laying back on the couch, Freed watched his lover lean over him and begin to clean the sweat and cum off his body with the washcloth. Heat filled his chest at the domesticity of it, and felt absolute in his choice. This man, who wielded lightning like a god, had stolen his heart through and through. There would be no one else but him.
A soft chuckle brought a smile to Laxus. “Trust me when I tell you, what they don’t know won’t kill them. And if we take breaks in between, that just means better planning on our part. Now off.” He patted Freed’s ass, caressing it softly, and carefully pulled the soiled comforter off the bed and carried it off out of the room.
Climbing under the remaining blankets, Freed couldn’t help but smile. While the night have certainly taken many turns he had never expected, finding himself in his own bed, sore and sated from a round of sex, and waiting for his lover to come back to snuggle with him, he couldn’t help but sigh. Too many nights had been spent alone, gazing at the ceiling in longing to have another body to curl up against. To feel like his presence mattered to someone in the darkest part of the night.
Maybe agreeing to do things outside of his comfort zone more often wouldn’t be such a bad idea, especially now that he knew that if needed to be brought back to a manageable mindset again that Laxus would be there to help. Would be willing to keep those dark thoughts away long past the depths of nighttime.
When the blankets lifted and a familiar warm body pressed against his, Freed let himself be wrapped up in a tangled mess of limbs, fingers buried in his hair, and his ear pressed against the muscular chest where he could hear the steady heartbeat below the surface. This was tangible. This was real.
Smiling, he let out a breath, “You’re mine, Laxus.”
Lips pressed against the crown of his head and curved into a smile, “I’d expect nothing else.”