Unchain My Heart

by GemNika

When Mard arrives at Fairy Tail to promote interguild relations, he finds himself entirely distracted from his initial conquest by a man with flowing green hair and his nose stuck in a book. Why is it that Mard Geer can feel darkness pouring from this quiet mage? (Companion to JackaLu Week 2016).

A/N: So a long, long time ago (back in 2016), I wrote for JackaLu Week. It was brought to my attention by a certain enabler that the first few prompts seemed cohesive enough to be all part of a single universe. They weren't intentionally written that way before, but now… Well, I'm rolling with it.

So, this particular story takes place between JackaLu Week Day 3 Sharp and Day 4 Filthy. I hope you all enjoy the one shot origin story of Mard and Freed's sinful romance.

---

Coordinating the arrival of his guild at Fairy Tail's base of operations wasn't too difficult an endeavor. Not for Mard Geer Tartaros, a master strategist and King of the Underworld. Yes, it probably helped that all of Fairy Tail was fully aware of Jackal's relationship with their little Celestial mage. What was her name again? Well, it wasn't all that important. He was just surprised that she hadn't been killed yet from Jackal's unsavory nibbling habit.

No, what was important was this venture he was about to embark upon. For the purposes of interguild relations, of course. Mard wasn't one for ulterior motives.

He was most definitely not travelling miles across the continent to visit with a silver-haired barmaid. He was also not hoping to find out just how she collected demon souls. And he had no idea that she even existed because of that blonde woman who screamed Jackal's name loud enough that he could hear it through the stone wall separating his throne room from Jackal's bedroom.

No, Mard was travelling to Fairy Tail only to promote interguild relations. Nothing more.

That was what he kept telling himself as he and the other demons finally reached the border of Magnolia. Because of his status, Makarov had informed him via that pathetic lacrima creation that the town guards would make the trip to the guild run as smoothly as possible.

Mard hadn't been sure what, exactly, that meant until an alarm blared and he and the others watched as the entirety of Magnolia split before them, leaving a wide cobblestone chasm for them to walk along on a direct path to the Fairy Tail Guild.

That was a creative way to welcome guests.

Kyouka and Jackal were silent as they walked along the path behind Mard, just as they should be. They knew there was nothing that needed to be said. His grip tightened around the Book of E.N.D. once they reached the guild's entrance. This was sure to be a most unpleasant endeavor. He could hear the mongrels inside shrieking like a barrel full of banshees.

"Let's get this over with," Kyouka sighed. "I still have things to do today."

Mard slanted a glance her way, causing the demoness to go rigid under his scrutiny. Ah, he did so enjoy that reaction. Though, she was right. They needed to get themselves inside, deal with those initial unpleasant reactions from these Fairies, and then his minions could mingle. It was all a bit too… precious for his tastes, but if it kept the others occupied and out of his hair then Mard supposed he could do this.

It was his one good deed for the century.

---

The initial reactions really weren't too bad, all things considered. Mard could only assume that it was Jackal's excitement over the brawl happening in the middle of the guild. He'd jumped into the fray and punched Natsu in the testicles. It was almost humorous enough for Mard to chuckle.

Almost.

He waved Kyouka away and turned his attention to the bar. If he was going to find that barmaid who collected demons, she would be there. And it seemed Kyouka had the same thought, since she strode past him on a direct path to a red-haired woman who seemed to be having a very intimate moment with a piece of cake.

And these people were the ones who had defeated them?

Pathetic.

With his chin held high, Mard walked further from the open doors and into the madness. He didn't try to skirt around the sweaty, undulating bodies engaged in combat. Such things were far beneath him. No, instead he walked right through the middle of it all as his gaze honed in on her bright silver hair and wide blue eyes.

What an interesting creature. He could feel the demons within her, writhing around and trying to claw their way back from his presence as he drew nearer. And all of that darkness was wrapped up in such a delicate package.

"Mira, more beer!"

"Right away," she called back. Her smile never faded while she bustled around the bar, handing out mugs of ale, passing whole trays ladened with food to a purple-haired woman who rushed out to the tables to deliver them.

He was nearly at the bar when she disappeared into a back room. That just wouldn't do. He refused to sit down on a barstool and wait for her, but it would probably be a good idea to speak with Makarov in person. Mard turned toward the little man with enough grace that anyone who may have been watching him would be unaware that his original target had left him behind.

Makarov took a large gulp of his beer and smacked his lips, giving Mard a drunken grin. "Ah, good to see you, my boy."

"Indeed," he said, turning to face the humans who were causing a ruckus behind him. He'd much rather have them where he could see them.

"Your guild seems a bit thin, though," Makarov mused.

Mard glanced at him for a moment. "A small scouting group is more tactically efficient," he said. "And less domineering."

"I guess so," Makarov chuckled. He waved his mug in front of him, nearly splashing its contents on Mard's sleeve. "I do expect all of you next time around. Can't really make friends here if your demons aren't around, now can they?"

Mard simply nodded and watched the crowd again, holding tightly to the book in his arm. He'd considered not bringing it at all, but the last time he'd left it unattended… He was still finding bits of viscera in the crevices of his throne room from the idiot who'd tried to steal it.

It was while he scanned the gathered humans - barely sparing Jackal's flying body any attention as he crashed into a very sturdy wooden pillar - that something bright and intriguing caught his eye. A quick flash of lustrous green hair had Mard's bored gaze sharpening, honing in on it. Something dark and sinful called to him from the owner of that hair, darker than even the demons dwelling within the barmaid who had just emerged from the guild's kitchen.

He couldn't find it in himself to care about her presence when he watched a thin hand emblazoned with a bright green Fairy Tail mark push that lustrous hair away from the man's face. From this distance, he could clearly make out a single turquoise eye framed with long lashes, the regal point of his chin. A thin, delicate nose. But his hair…

Mard had a deep appreciation for well-maintained hair. And this man was clearly of the same belief that long tresses deserved to be tended carefully. Not a single hair was out of place on that man, even though there were two lightning-shaped sections sticking up on either side of his head. Those were either cowlicks or a stylistic choice.

Mard had the errant thought that they gave him the appearance of having horns. Considering his own etherious form had horns, it was most definitely a pleasant coincidence.

"Ah, I see you found Freed Justine," Makarov said. "One of my smartest children."

Mard simply nodded, finally pulling his gaze from Freed's - what an interesting name, so elegant - hair and face to take in the rest of him that was visible above the dented wooden table he sat at. What he could see was a far cry different from the others in this disgusting den of Fairies. There, among the trash, was a beautifully crafted flower. A lenten rose, thriving despite the horrendous conditions surrounding it.

Mard smirked to himself. What a fitting description. Freed's maroon jacket and pale cream cravat were nearly the same color as those perennials.

"You might be wondering how he can read with all the noise in here," Makarov said. Mard nodded again, never taking his eyes away from the man in question. He watched as Freed closed the book he'd laid on the table, then changed it out for another larger tome with yellowed pages. "I can't be entirely sure. He's either very good at concentrating, or he's written runes around himself so he can't hear anything else."

A Rune mage? Oh, this was even better. He was definitely intelligent, if he'd been able to master his craft. And considering the way he held himself as he devoured the text in his hands - such long fingers - Mard could only assume that this Freed person was no novice.

"You should go and talk to him," Makarov said. Mard didn't notice the way the elderly man's lips lifted in a lecherous smirk. "I'm sure he'd be more than willing to discuss his books with you."

"Indeed," he said. His feet carried him away from Makarov well before he'd made the conscious decision to move. Maybe he should have asked the man why Freed had this darkness swirling around inside of him. Then again, he could always just ask the Rune mage himself. It would give him a reason to interrupt his reading.

Freed flipped to a later page in the book, and Mard watched as his brows pinched only slightly. His eyes travelled even faster over the text, then he stopped. His thin lips parted and his cheeks reddened as he stared down at the page. Freed shifted in his seat, tucked his hair behind his ear. He continued reading and discreetly pulled at his cravat.

Mard continued making his way closer, observing everything he could about the man. He didn't miss the three small wooden totems that began flying in circles around Freed's head, but those went entirely unnoticed by the Rune mage who was much more involved in the text before him. By the time Mard reached the table, Freed had flipped back several pages, scanned something, then returned to his previous page.

What he hadn't expected was for Freed to turn the book so the text was upside down, then begin reading from the bottom to the top, from right to left.

"Interesting find?" Mard asked.

"Very," Freed said without looking away from the page. "Fallacies in Infernai: Syntax as a Morphological Construct. This is… absolutely riveting."

Mard wasn't entirely sure how he should deal with the way Freed's breathless voice skittered along his flesh. His grip on the Book of E.N.D. tightened marginally while he fought to keep his eyes from sliding closed. Oh, it had been at least a hundred years since he'd felt raw desire like this slither through him. None of the demons in his guild knew just what he found attractive. Intelligence. Thin wrists that could be easily bruised with his hands. And an intoxicating voice.

The darkness in Freed swelled and pulsed, but he didn't seem to notice it at all. Mard did. Oh, he felt how it brushed against his senses, testing the waters to see just who it was dealing with.

But Freed had said something that he should probably respond to. "You're interested in Infernai?"

"Definitely," Freed mumbled, flipping through another three pages. He turned the book sideways. "Oh dear…"

Mard leaned forward only slightly to look down at the page that had caused Freed's face to flush even further. It wasn't all that difficult to read. Then again, he'd always known how to read this particular language. But what caught his attention was the content. Porn. Freed was reading porn in the middle of the guild, in a book that was supposed to be about the linguistic constructs of Mard's native tongue.

"Who is the author?" Mard asked.

"M. Traitorous."

Had he been anyone else, he may have laughed. Hysterically. If Jackal was in this position - and if he had the mental capacity to have done something like this - he most definitely would have fallen on the floor and cackled like a mad dog.

How lucky it was that Freed had stumbled on the book Mard had written years ago under a pseudonym. Of course, the text itself was about the conundrum that was syntactic devices used in morphological context in Infernai. But Mard had grown bored with writing it, and he'd wanted to find a way to spice things up. So, he'd hidden something within the text, something that only the most adept cryptographers would be able to find.

And yes, he may have decided to write some rather steamy sex scenes. Ones involving himself and a pliant demon who was rather fond of bondage. And being flogged.

That would explain the look on Freed's face, how his breath hitched as he kept reading. The fact that he could decode this quickly enough to be able to read it instantly had Mard's stomach churning with desire. He'd forgotten what it felt like to have this spiralling heat wash over him.

"I can tell you from experience," Mard said quietly, switching to Infernai. Freed gasped and his head shot up, his widened eyes locked onto Mard's smirking lips. "There is a great deal I left out of those pages."

"Excuse me?"

He thrilled at the calculating edge to Freed's gaze. Even with the sheer embarrassment wafting off of him, Mard could tell that he was still trying to place just who he was speaking to. When he thought about it, he hadn't seen Freed among the mages facing off against his guild in that war. Did that mean he hadn't been in the middle of the fray? Maybe as a Rune mage, he'd been kept back to protect the guild hall.

Now, Mard normally didn't deign to repeat himself, but Freed's initial reaction was just too delicious. He wanted to see what would happen if he said it again, fully admitted to what he was sure the Rune mage suspected.

"Your book," he said, switching back from Infernai just in case Freed had never actually heard it spoken, "Is my book. What you're reading is only a small percentage of the stories I could have told."

It had the desired effect. Freed gulped and slammed the book shut. "W-Well-"

A man with a wide, tongue-lolling grin came barreling over to the table with two more of those little wooden totems, interrupting their conversation. "Freed, man, whatcha doin'?"

"Reading, Bickslow," Freed said, taking on a suddenly bored expression. Mard found himself even more intrigued by the man's sudden shift in demeanor.

"If you found a way to read with a book closed, then you're a next level kinda nerd, baby."

Mard blinked, setting his attention on the other mage. What sort of imbecile dressed like a court jester with skulls on his clothing? From his understanding of human colloquialisms, that was a term of endearment. One used for those a person was intimately involved with. Did that mean that Freed was taken? He was positive that Freed held to the silly human notion of monogamy.

Maybe he would need to quietly dispose of this Bickslow fool.

Freed sighed heavily through his nose. "I am no infant, Bickslow," he said slowly. "And we are not now, nor have we ever been, romantically involved."

"Because you can't handle my fine ass," Bickslow cackled.

"Fine ass! Fine ass!" the totems cheered.

"If Laxus does not have need of me right now," Freed said. Mard found himself even more curious when he saw the way Freed's lips lifted in a small smirk. "Then I think I'll return to my previous conversation with…"

Ah, he must not have realized who he was even talking to. Mard could remedy that, and probably scare off this annoying insect all in one fell swoop. "Mard Geer Tartaros."

Bickslow went rigid and took a quick step away from Mard. The totems flew down and acted as a flimsy barrier between Freed and the Underworld King. That was amusing. "Freed, just stay back," Bickslow said quietly.

"Bickslow, have you forgotten that Master Makarov informed us of Tartaros' visit today?" Freed sighed again and carefully stood from his seat. Bickslow still didn't relax, and the totems hugged themselves against the breast of Freed's crimson overcoat. "Please excuse my teammate," he said, turning his attention back to Mard.

"For the sake of more riveting conversation, I think I might," Mard replied. He blinked slowly as Freed locked eyes with him. The darkness within the Rune mage was positively purring the longer they looked at one another. That was a good sign. "Tell me, do you have demon blood in you?"

"No, I do not."

"Interesting… Your presence says otherwise."

Bickslow's jaw dropped when Freed broke their prolonged eye contact to glance bashfully to the side. "That would be a part of my magic," Freed said. "Dark Écriture Darkness."

"Ah, Makarov told me about your adept use of Rune magic." Not entirely true. Mard knew a great deal about Rune magic previously. Makarov had simply said that Freed used it, and Mard had drawn his own conclusions through observation after that.

Bickslow blinked when he saw the way Freed's cheeks flushed only slightly.

"Would you be interested in a more intensive lesson than the one in that book?" Mard asked, barely holding back a smirk. He noticed the way Bickslow leaned forward slightly to read the title. Yes, he could continue believing that's what he was offering Freed. "How well do you fare with pronunciation?"

"Abyssal, I'm afraid," Freed chuckled. Mard nearly laughed at the pointed joke. Freed paused and glanced around them for a moment, over to a far corner of the guild, then minutely shook his head. "I do have another book at home that has been helpful in translation, but there are some phonological aspects that evade me. They simply do not translate well into text, which is beyond frustrating."

"Actual experience is much more effective," Mard said. It had been a long while since he'd found someone willing to perform this level of verbal cat and mouse. This intricate dance around their mutual desire only served to make him more than ready to leave this wretched building. If they continued much longer, his time-honored control would most definitely slip.

A demon could only be expected to endure the alluring sight of those thin lips perfectly forming each syllable as he spoke for so long. Or the rich texture of his voice in the air. Or those thin hips. Sweet Zeref, Freed was an even more delectable morsel now that he was standing. "I would like to see this text. I believe I can offer some pointers."

Freed nodded and turned toward Bickslow. "Tell Laxus I'm leaving for the day," he said. "I have books to read."

"Yeah, sure thing, bro-hams," Bickslow said absently.

Mard wasn't entirely sure what a bro-hams was, but at least he'd given up on that other term of endearment. Instead, he watched Freed gather his books and carefully set them in a leather messenger bag. He came around the table to stand beside Mard, and they turned toward the guild's doors.

He sent a quick telepathic message to Kyouka and Jackal. The last thing he needed was for them to get out of hand and ruin this budding alliance between the guilds. "Return to the guild within 48 hours. I will know if you do not comply."

Jackal's head shot up from where he'd been kissing Lucy's throat to search for Mard in the throng of Fairies, and his golden eyes widened when he saw his guild master exiting the building with someone unfamiliar beside him.

"Jackal, is everything alright?" Lucy asked, leaning her head on his shoulder.

"Who's the dude with the green hair?" he asked.

"Freed," she said. "Why?"

Jackal's nose twitched just when the doors closed, and then he smelled it. Buckets of arousal drifted through the air. Not just from Freed, either. That dangerous scent he picked up nearly burned his nostrils and made him ready to hide under the table with his tail between his legs. His gut twisted so intensely that he was ready to vomit right there.

Jackal had never wanted to find out what it smelled like when Mard Geer was turned on. He'd honestly thought the Definitive Demon was incapable of something like that in the first place. Apparently, he'd been wrong. Really fucking wrong.

"Jackal?" Lucy asked.

He shook his head and grinned down at her. "Don't worry about it," he chuckled. He loved Lucy, but he also loved his innards not becoming out-ards. And that was exactly what Mard Geer would do if he ever found out that Jackal had pieced together just what he was planning on doing. "Kinda reminds me of Mard."

Lucy pursed her lips in thought, then giggled when he nipped at her jaw. "I guess they're a bit alike," she said.

---

Freed stood in his sitting room and watched as Mard took a seat in his favorite leather reading chair, setting the Book of E.N.D. on the end table at his elbow. Even barefoot, with his pale feet resting on the plush crimson carpet over the hardwood floors, Mard had this commanding presence about him.

"Would you like something to drink?" Freed asked. "Maybe something to eat?"

"That won't be necessary."

The walk from the guild through Magnolia had been both comfortable and filled with tension. The conversation was definitely interesting. Freed had been given an unlimited resource in Mard, and his knowledge of the intricacies of Infernai was refreshing and enlightening. However, hidden beneath Mard's responses was an undertone of flirtatious banter that Freed just hadn't been able to ignore.

And it seemed the beast inside of him had warmed up to the Underworld King quite rapidly. That had been his first indication, while still in the guild, that maybe his interest would be worth pursuing.

The fact that someone had interrupted his reading in the guild wasn't anything new, but it had been the first time someone who wasn't Levy or Lucy had asked about what he was reading with any interest. Even his team didn't do something like that, unless it was directly related to a job. And then, to find that the person who was asking these questions spoke the language he'd been silently translating, and even further that it was the author of the book... Freed believed that he'd finally felt that odd kid in a candy store feeling he'd heard so much about before. It was almost as though he'd been given an entire ten-story library to peruse at his leisure.

But now, they were in his home, and Mard had offered to give him a lesson in pronunciation that he just wouldn't be able to get anywhere else. It had been pure circumstance - and maybe a fair bit of luck - that ended up with Freed getting his hands on that Infernai book in the first place. The information on it was rare and more valuable than anyone seemed to realize. He would be a fool to turn down an offer like this one.

Of course, he should have known that the Underworld King and his deviously flirtatious attitude would want something more from the lesson.

Luckily, Freed was all too willing to give in to his demands.

"I do believe we'll need some rules," Mard said. Oh, Freed was already enjoying this. "I will say a word, and you will repeat it in Infernai. Should you pronounce it wrong…"

Freed shivered at the slow smirk that spread over Mard's lips.

"You will remove one article of clothing."

"That does seem reasonable," Freed said. Although, it almost seemed that he would be rewarded for making a mistake. He was more than ready to disrobe right then and there, to let this demon ravish him in ways he'd only dreamt of being taken before. He did want Mard naked along with him, though. "May I make a suggestion?"

Mard raised a thin, sculpted brow and nodded.

"Should I say the word correctly, I will be allowed to remove one article of clothing from you."

Mard's smirk widened marginally, and Freed fought against the flush on his cheeks when he saw the way those coal black eyes burned with desire. "I believe I can agree to that," he chuckled. "When you mispronounce a word, I will correct you and you will try again. We will not move on until you've completed the task."

Freed crossed his arms and considered the offer for a moment. That would mean that, even if he was entirely naked, nothing else would happen until he said the word correctly. "What would the punishment be for saying a word incorrectly, if I'd already lost all of my clothing?"

"Did you read the section on page 71?" Mard asked. Freed flushed while thinking back to the hidden erotic stories in that book. But had he read that page? He couldn't remember. "Because you are human, I'll temper my hand for spanking you."

"And at what point does the lesson end?"

"A fair question," Mard conceded. Gods, did he have to look so utterly sinful while sitting in that chair? "There are five articles of clothing still on me. So let's say five words."

Freed mentally ran through the clothes he was wearing himself. Without his socks and boots on, there were still seven articles of clothing on his own person. "And if I say them all correctly on the first try?"

"Then I suppose you will have me entirely naked in your chair," Mard chuckled. "The lesson will be complete, and we can move on to something more… challenging."

Freed definitely liked the sound of that. And he could only assume that the odds weren't entirely in his favor. This was Mard Geer, after all. But his strategy had given him at least a little leeway. If he could get the words correct on the first try, then maybe Mard having his clothes removed piece by piece would fluster him.

In the dangerous game of cat and mouse, Freed was determined to be the victor. It was simply a matter of outsmarting his opponent, a several centuries old demon who would also be teaching him a language he'd only ever dreamt of being able to speak fluently.

"Weapons do not count as clothing," Mard said.

Freed nodded and removed his saber from its place on his belt. He carried it over to the wall and propped it up gently. He would have to place it on its stand later on. Once finished, he returned to his place in front of Mard, several feet away from that leather chair holding the object of his desire.

Contrary to popular belief, Freed was no virgin. He was just more discreet about discussing his lovers. And he was, in no way, attracted to Laxus. They had only ever been best friends. It was the blond Dragon Slayer who'd given him a safe space to admit his sexuality aloud, and Freed was eternally grateful for that kindness. But it was nothing more than that. But Mard was just his type, physically. And intellectually. Probably not emotionally - he was sure the demon would want nothing more than this one foray, or a series of them with no emotions involved, but that was alright. Freed didn't need romance in his life. He'd learned the hard way that it was far too complicated, and he'd accepted that it was one need of his that would never be fulfilled.

"I'm ready for my lesson," Freed said.

The way Mard's lips lifted had Freed honing in on his every little move. He propped his elbow on the armrest and leaned his head on his hand. Mard was the picture of regal boredom, even as he slouched just a little. How was it that he could make something so utterly slovenly look so graceful? "We will start simple," Mard said. "Tell me the word yes."

"Da," Freed said instantly. This was going to be all too easy. Freed knew nearly every word in Infernai, from how intensely he'd read the books he had access to. He'd learned how to conjugate verbs, how gerunds were constructed, and even the subject-verb-object word order with its few variant rules in particular instances.

"Correct," Mard said.

Freed had to take a steadying breath before coming closer. Mard had agreed to let him remove each piece of clothing from both of them. He was actually going to be doing this. And suddenly, he felt nervous. How many lovers had Mard Geer Tartaros had in the past century alone? How could he possibly hope to compare at all?

Mard's eyes narrowed slightly. "Have you forgotten the rules?"

Freed jolted and flushed under the demon's heavy glare. His feet finally moved to close the distance separating them. Before he could reach forward to loosen the strap across Mard's chest that held his coat closed, Mard spoke again.

"Kneel first," he said. Freed blinked in surprise, but he nodded all the same. Slowly, never taking his gaze from Mard's, he knelt in front of the demon. And it seemed to have a pleasant effect on him, if the way Mard barely nibbled his lower lip was any indication. "One article of clothing, Freed. Your choice."

It only made sense to remove his coat first. Freed brought his hands up, hoping with everything he was worth that Mard wouldn't notice the anticipation that made his fingers tremble just before they touched the strap holding Mard's coat closed. He took his time though, never faltering in his task, and once the buckle was loosened, Freed took a chance to place his hands on Mard's chest.

He could feel the tantalizing power leaking from the demon king before him, even from just this single touch. Part of him wondered if it would overwhelm him as they moved forward. Would it be too much for him to bear? Would Mard have to hold back to avoid killing him?

That single thought sent a tingle down the center of his stomach, tightening his muscles in that delicious way he craved. His fingers curled just slightly on Mard's chest, taking in the fine fabric of his shirt. Slowly, they moved up beneath the lapels toward his throat. Freed watched in a trance as his fingers gently curved around the back of Mard's neck, teasing the silken strands of his deep purple hair hanging down in a ponytail. Freed sat up on his knees to bring himself just a little closer. Close enough to smell the dash of dark spice hanging around him. Was that cologne, or just his natural scent wafting off of him?

Oh, what did it matter? Mard smelled delicious. Delectable. Downright edible. And this sultry look in his eyes as Freed's hands finally moved down toward his shoulders, pushing the coat along with them, was more than worth the slowly building discomfort in his knees. The coat caught on the chair, and Freed's lips quirked. "I believe I'll need you to lean forward."

If he'd known that Mard's midnight black eyes would spark with desire so intensely, Freed wouldn't have found himself so breathless. Or maybe he still would have. Maybe it was just the effect that this particularly scrumptious demon had on him.

Mard leaned forward inch by devastatingly slow inch, and he didn't stop until their lips were very nearly touching. Until their slow breaths mingled in the minimal space between them. It took all of his willpower to continue pushing the coat down Mard's arms. He didn't stop - though he did slow down marginally to feel those lean biceps, his elbows, his thin wrists - until the coat was left dangling over the arms of the chair.

"Are you prepared for the next word?" Mard whispered.

"Gods, yes," Freed rasped.

Mard brushed Freed's nose with his own. "Books."

His eyes were half-lidded as he answered, "Knigi."

"Incorrect," Mard chuckled.

Freed's eyes snapped open and he drew back, his brows drawing together in confusion. Wrong? How the hell had he been wrong? Freed was never wrong. Not when it came to translating, or foreign languages in general. He couldn't be wrong. "I beg your pardon?"

"I am not one for pardons, but if you are begging…" He grasped Freed's chin gently between his thumb and forefinger, tilting his head back. "Listen closely."

Freed couldn't stop his eyes from sliding shut when Mard's fingers drifted over his left cheek and pushed his hair behind his ear. He felt those thin lips ghosting across his flesh, and when Mard lightly nipped at his ear, Freed failed to hold back a quiet, aroused whimper.

"Knigi," Mard said. "Listen again… k-nyee-g-yee-eh."

Never in his life had the word books been so alluring. Hadn't that been what he'd said? At first, Freed had worried that he'd used the wrong conjugation. But no. Kniga was for a single book. Knigi was for more than one. He'd been right. What was Mard playing at? "That is what I said."

"Knigi," Mard said again. "What you said was socks, not books."

Freed hadn't known there was an Infernai word for socks. He'd never come across it in the texts he'd read. And it made sense for there not to be a literal translation of that word to begin with. Demons didn't wear socks, from what he'd noticed. Jackal didn't, but he was always barefoot anyway. Mard didn't either, and Freed had very discreetly watched as he'd removed his shoes in the foyer. But they really had a word for socks?

Sadly, he'd been so preoccupied with this sudden conundrum of the word socks even existing in Mard's native language that the feeling of slim fingers quickly loosening the belt around his waist startled him. Mard toyed with the golden buttons on Freed's coat and smirked. "Try again."

"Knigi." Freed went rigid at the sound of Mard's low chuckle while he pushed the first button through the hole. Then the next. He couldn't find the will to move, even as Mard gripped the edges of his coat and pulled him closer.

"You would do well to remember that the vast majority of this language is reliant on vocal intonation. Emphasize the first vowel, not the velar stop. That is not a syllable, but an inflection. Like a grace note that is barely touched upon." Mard drew back and glared down into his widened eyes while pushing his maroon coat down his arms and letting it pool on the floor. "The first true syllable should be higher in pitch than the second."

None of the books Freed had read mentioned a single thing about pitch being so important. Or about the proper syllabic emphasis. Oh, this wasn't going to be good. He could say it, though. Now that he knew the trick to doing it, Freed just had to take his time, remember the rules of the language, and say the word carefully. So he did, and when he saw the way Mard smirked at him, Freed was sure he'd messed up again.

"Correct." Mard sat back in the chair slowly, gazing down at Freed who let out a sigh of relief. He deftly unfastened the buttons on the pale grey vest Mard wore, then shifted slightly on his knees to get a little more comfortable. "When you are ready."

Freed nodded slowly and sat back on his heels while taking in Mard's slightly disheveled appearance. Damn this demon for being so edible.

"Master," Mard said.

"Which variant?" Freed asked. It wasn't easy to miss the suddenly intrigued smile playing at Mard's lips. Had that been a test, to see if he would pick the wrong word? Or maybe he could have said the right word for Master, but it would have been the wrong variation based on context.

"I will leave that up to you," Mard said. "Do keep in mind to whom you are speaking."

Freed was just a touch embarrassed by the way his cock hardened when he heard that word. Whom. And in proper context. How desperate was he to hear someone using proper grammar while speaking? Desperate enough that it was making him painfully hard.

"Gospodin," Freed said, ignoring the flush on his cheeks. He was sure that Mard would pick up on the variation he'd chosen. This was one he'd memorized immediately when he'd come across it.

"Interesting," Mard said. "Is that how you see me?"

A lord. A ruler. The variant that signified a servant speaking to the person who owned them entirely. And in some contexts, a sexually dominant being. Was that how he saw Mard? Of course it was. Because this was a king of demons, the ruler of the Underworld. And yes, Freed most definitely hoped that he would be the dominant one in their escapades. On occasion, Freed did enjoy reversing that, but most often he preferred following the rules of another, bowing down and accepting everything his lover had to offer.

Freed smirked and lifted his hands to the frilled collar of Mard's shirt, more than ready to claim his prize. Yes, he could have chosen to remove the belt, but he was greedy. He wanted to see what lay beneath. He could only imagine the pristine ivory skin stretched taut over lightly defined muscles. Would Mard's hips stick out just a little like Freed's did? Would he be so thin beneath his clothes that his navel was barely noticeable? Was there hair on his chest, or was it completely bare? So many questions, and Freed was moments away from getting the answers to all of them.

Mard grabbed his wrists and squeezed, pulling a pained hiss from the Rune mage. "While flattering, you are incorrect," he said.

Freed gasped as he was dragged up off the floor. Mard yanked him forward, forcing the Rune mage to straddle him in the chair. Luckily, he'd gotten a reading chair with a wider seat - he had a habit of shifting while reading alone until he was sprawled at odd angles in his seat - so he didn't have to worry about there not being enough room for his legs on either side of Mard's hips.

"All variations of Master require more of a rasp to the voice," Mard said. He placed Freed's hands on his chest, then reached up and began unbuttoning the Rune mage's shirt. He completely ignored the cravat, even though that was the next logical piece of clothing to remove. With each button, Freed's cheeks grew hotter. Would he really be undressed first? "Are you familiar with ejective affricates?"

"Voiceless consonants produced with a glottalic egressive airstream," Freed said, his voice trembling as his chest was fully bared. Mard's fingers slowed when he reached the last button before Freed's pants. "I have only read about it. I've never heard a language that actually uses it regularly."

"Infernai uses a great number of ejectives, both affricates and fricatives," Mard said. He looked down at Freed's shirt while gently untucking it from his pants. He unfastened the final two buttons and his hands trailed up the length of Freed's torso, his fingers slowly skittering over trembling muscles. "It makes full use of glottal consonants."

"D-Does it?" Freed nearly whimpered as Mard leaned forward and ran his tongue mere centimeters above his nipple.

Mard ignored his question in favor of lightly biting across his chest while peeling his shirt off and down his arms. The fabric caught on his hands, but Mard left it there, binding Freed's hands loosely behind his back. "Try again."

"Gospodin," Freed rasped, putting more emphasis on the first syllable.

"Incorrect," Mard hissed. He bit Freed's chest harder, pulling a startled yelp from the mage in his lap. Freed's skin burned along the path Mard's lips left in their wake up to his throat. The demon didn't look away from his prize, the pounding pulse against his lips, while quickly removing Freed's belt from his pants. "You must growl, Freed."

"May I-"

"Again."

Freed gulped and tipped his head back to give Mard more access to his throat. He wanted so much more than this, but nothing would happen if he couldn't get this word right. They were only on the third of five. Would he really be able to last that long? He didn't even know what this word was supposed to sound like. There were no guides written in a phonetic alphabet that he could follow. He'd been working mostly on educated guesses when it came to speaking Infernai.

He tried again, and failed. It surprised him when Mard didn't try to remove his pants. He was supposed to. Those, his boxers, and cravat were the only articles of clothing he had left. Except Mard was far too preoccupied with peppering the bared flesh of his chest and shoulders with small, nearly painful bites and open-mouthed kisses.

Freed couldn't be sure what had turned the demon into this ravenous beast who seemed ready to devour him, but he definitely didn't mind it. Not one bit. Though, he would have preferred that attention being set somewhere else. Like his lips.

"Like this," Mard rasped. He grabbed Freed's hips tightly and forced them to roll only once. Freed's breath stuttered when he felt the prominent arousal tenting Mard's pants, how it pushed against his own hard cock that was just waiting to be set free. "Repeat after me, Freed. Gospodin."

Freed shivered as the sound of Mard's voice changed into something far more animalistic than he would have thought possible with human vocal cords. He could feel Mard's lips moving, forming the different consonant clusters that he knew should have been there, but the depth of his voice was rich and full. It vibrated in Freed's chest from where Mard's lips had been when he'd spoken. Freed tried again.

"Wrong," Mard said. He repeated the word two more times, and Freed listened closer. There had to be some sort of trick to doing this, something that he just hadn't picked up on. Could he even do that with his own voice? Could his human vocal cords vibrate at such a low frequency to deepen his voice into a growl like that?

If he got this wrong again, Freed would be naked. Well, that was assuming that Mard took the time to actually remove them.

"Once more," Freed pleaded, a strangled moan crackling in his throat as Mard's hips thrust up against his clothed erection.

"Say it," Mard growled.

This was his last shot. He had to get this right so that Mard would actually have more than just his coat and vest missing. Freed wanted to feel skin brushing against his chest and stomach, not the soft fabric of Mard's shirt. Maybe if he tried to change it a little more? If he raised the pitch of the first syllable by a few degrees and accented it? Then maybe, if he tried pretending to be Laxus when someone tried to take his headphones away… maybe that would work. "Gospodin…"

The last thing Freed had expected was for Mard to quietly curse and tackle him to the floor. His head thudded on the lush carpet - something he was highly thankful for, since it probably saved him from being concussed - and he gasped when he felt Mard's fingers hook into the band of his pants and boxers.

"Tell me to rape you again, and I will not be gentle."

"R-Rape?" Freed let out a rather undignified squawk when his clothing was quite literally torn from his body and tossed to the far corner of the room. "I wasn't-"

"You were," Mard rasped. His narrowed eyes drank in the sight of Freed's fully naked form from lithe shoulders down to his thin hips. His hands kneaded Freed's quivering thighs, higher and higher until he was nearly touching the weeping arousal that sat proudly at attention. "Our lesson is complete for now."

"But I haven't-"

"It. Is. Complete," Mard snarled. He leaned down and ran his tongue from Freed's navel up the center of his chest, marveling at the low, heated moan that drifted past the Rune mage's lips.

Freed wanted to protest further. He never would have told someone to rape him. He'd been saying the word Master, just like Mard had wanted. He really wanted to tell him that, but his lips were captured in a searing kiss that had his toes curling in an instant. Those thin lips he'd been admiring since first seeing the Demon King moved desperately over his own, and Freed was powerless to stop him. He didn't want to stop. Not when Mard forcefully parted his lips with that devilish tongue to steal his breath.

Mard collapsed on top of him, and Freed moaned when he realized that the demon was already shirtless. When he'd had the time to remove his shirt was beyond Freed's comprehension, but he didn't care. All he cared about was the darkness he could taste in their kiss, Mard's hands grasping and kneading at his flesh, how his legs spread so easily to accommodate thin hips that wasted no time in rubbing Mard's clothed erection over him.

If only his hands weren't still stuck in his shirt, he would be able to do so much more. But the damned buttons at the end of his sleeves were caught on his wrists, and no matter how much he struggled against the fabric, he couldn't free himself. His lungs screamed for air, but Freed ignored it in favor of curling his hips into Mard's next thrust.

The low hum he received in response had his skin tingling.

Mard broke away from his lips, and Freed gasped for the air he'd been denied for far too long. "It seems I'll have to keep your lower lung capacity in mind," he rasped.

Freed wanted to tell him that he would gladly die of asphyxiation if it meant they could keep kissing like that. He pulled in a breath to do just that, and then his mouth ran dry as Mard reached up and removed the band holding his hair in its usual high ponytail. Thick, indigo tresses cascaded down around them, tickling his chest and stomach. Suddenly the air was filled with the overwhelming scent of roses. How had he not realized this was what Mard smelled like? With how close they'd been moments before, he should have noticed it.

It didn't matter though, because he smelled it then. Gods, it was heavenly. Almost as heavenly as the way Mard nipped at his swollen lips.

The floor was definitely not where Freed had planned on having sex. No, he'd been positive that they were going to be in his bedroom for this. But when Mard had seen the rich mahogany furniture of his sitting room, they'd needed to make a detour. He was sure it had everything to do with the wall of books behind his reading chair. What would the demon do if he found the library that Freed had repurposed his spare bedroom into?

"I believe we should be somewhere more comfortable," Freed said.

"Are you uncomfortable?"

"With my hands stuck in my shirt and lying on a rug?" Freed chuckled at the sly smirk he was given. "Definitely."

Mard kissed his chin and down the column of his throat, pausing at his cravat. "I do not plan on moving."

"I can move you," Freed said. He should have anticipated the playful bite at the hollow of his throat that had him whimpering with need. It had been ages since he'd taken a lover who was so vicious.

"I would like to see you try."

Freed moaned quietly as Mard's tongue burned a searing path down his chest once more. That lithe muscle circled one nipple before pulling it into his mouth. While he was otherwise occupied, Freed concentrated on writing a quick set of runes that could disintegrate his shirt. He was willing to sacrifice the thing in favor of mobility.

He cried out as Mard's hand wrapped tightly around his aching shaft and started to stroke him. Liquid fire raced through his veins, but he had to focus. Even though he was finding out just how soft the skin of Mard's hands was, he couldn't let himself get lost in each slow pass over him. Mard reached the tip and circled it with his thumb, his teeth scraping over Freed's chest to his other nipple.

Before he could be swept away in the sea of passion that Mard's carefully crafted movements promised, Freed moved his hands out from behind him and swiped a long line of runes over Mard's back. He was left panting as Mard's head drew back and a wicked sneer pulled at his lips.

"What is this?" Mard spat. Rage burned in his midnight eyes while the magical text coiled around his arms and perfectly sculpted chest, but Freed simply watched as the demon disappeared in a series of fluttering purple runes.

He took a moment to breathe, to calm himself back down from the pinnacle he'd been climbing toward, once Mard was no longer kneeling between his legs. His eyes closed for just a moment. His stomach fluttered at the thought of what was to come. Mard Geer Tartaros was going to turn him into a quivering mess, and he found himself more than ready to let it happen. As runes trailed from his fingertips and settled on his flesh, Freed bit his lip in excitement and smiled.

---

It took several seconds of lying on his back and staring at an unfamiliar canopy of rich crimson fabric for Mard to realize just what Freed had done to him. The plush cushioning beneath him covered in soft cotton sheets was a good indication. He'd been teleported to a bed. That sly little minx had written teleportation runes right onto his skin when he'd been preoccupied, and had actually managed to gather enough power in them to transport him to a bed.

Most likely, he was only upstairs from the sitting room they'd been in, but even that was no small feat.

Oh, Freed was going to pay for duping him this way. He would need to be rewarded for his cunning intellect, of course, but it was the principle of the thing. No one tricked Mard Geer. Not even someone with such a delicious body as Freed Justine.

His cock twitched and his eyes slid closed while he remembered just what it had been like to feel those bony hips and defined abs under his hands, the way his thighs had trembled. Freed had been the picture of submission with his white dress shirt caught beneath his body on the rug, trapping his hands on the floor, with his eyes so wide and horrified after having his pants ripped off.

Mard hadn't been able to help himself though, not when he'd heard that needy whine in Freed's voice as he'd all but begged to be tasted, bitten, pinned, and then raped. Of course, Freed hadn't known he was saying those things just from mispronouncing a single word. He'd been trying so hard to call Mard his Master. They would need to work on his growling much more though if Freed planned on ever being able to speak the language.

He wasn't sure how long he laid in that bed, thinking about the Rune mage who had riled him up. Mard's eyes opened again when he felt the power in the room shift. It was a mesmerizing sight to see Freed materialize in cascading waves of glowing purple runes, sitting astride his hips. The fact that he could feel his soon-to-be-lover's flesh against his own was surprising though.

How had he gotten naked? His pants had been on when he was downstairs tormenting Freed. Unless…

Mard watched a devastating smile spread over Freed's lips while he crawled down his body, and he knew. This was also the Rune mage's doing. He must have written rules into those slithering lines of text to make it so that only Mard would be teleported, not his pants. Lightly calloused fingers massaged down his chest, and Mard lifted his head only to find Freed licking his lips while those heated turquoise eyes drank in the sight of his arousal.

There were no words spoken as Freed leaned down and dragged his tongue over the thick vein in his shaft. Mard held back a curse when those thin lips wrapped around him, slowly sucked him further into the wet heat of his mouth. He wasn't sure how much more of this he could handle though. Just knowing that the Rune mage was already so ready to continue had Mard more than willing to move this along.

But his mouth...

Mard's fingers carded through silken green strands and wrapped tightly around the back of Freed's head. He said nothing as he forced the Rune mage's head down harder than before. He reveled in the way Freed choked around his cock every time it battered his gag reflex. It was made even better when he realized that Freed wasn't struggling to push him away or make him stop. Instead, those trembling fingers reached down and fondled his balls, grasped at his hips and silently urged him to thrust into his mouth.

His other hand rested in Freed's hair and he paused with only the tip nestled between those swollen lips. "Deep breath," he whispered.

Freed's teary eyes widened. He didn't breathe in, but Mard was done waiting. Just seeing the moisture clumping Freed's long lashes was enough for him to force Freed's head down until he hit that pesky barrier.

"Relax your throat, or this will hurt," Mard hissed. He knew Freed was struggling. He could feel it in the way the Rune mage's throat tried to constrict even further to stop him from pushing deeper. But Mard wanted to feel that tightness on his cock. He wanted Freed to struggle against him - either because he needed air or because he couldn't handle the thickness clogging his throat. "Relax."

Mard let out a shaky breath when Freed slowly gave in and the tip of his aching cock squeezed into his throat. Freed gagged, his body curling as he tried to pull away, but Mard didn't let go. He forced himself deeper until Freed's nose was buried in the perfectly trimmed hairs above his arousal, then held him there for a moment before lifting Freed's head.

He loved the way it sounded when Freed coughed. Their eyes locked, and he pushed Freed's head down faster than before. With each rough thrust, it became easier to slip into his throat and feel the wicked tightness when he gagged. But Mard needed this relief. He'd been so wound up while they were downstairs, and he couldn't stop himself even as Freed grabbed his pistoning hips to try and make him stop.

"Take it, Freed," he growled. "Please your Master."

Freed's slackened lips suddenly tightened around his shaft. He stopped fighting and gave in to Mard's demands so easily, the demon was taken aback by it. Had that been what he'd needed to hear? Something so simple, just the smallest command that he wanted to be pleasured this way? He would need to keep that in mind. If Freed just needed a little encouragement, then he could do that.

"Yes," Mard groaned. He didn't mind one bit as Freed took the lead, moving his head faster than Mard had thought he'd be able to. Instead of staying nestled in his throat with short, powerful thrusts, the Rune mage drew back and circled his tongue around the tip, then slammed back down. Over and over again. Harder, faster. Just the way Mard liked. His eyes slid closed and his head tipped back into the pillow while he allowed his lover to show him just what he could do. "Yes, Freed…"

All too soon, he yanked the Rune mage away from his hips and dragged him up into a kiss that could have raised the dead. Mard didn't care about the spit trailing down Freed's chin as his lover's tongue plunged into his mouth. All that mattered was this heat spreading down the tips of his fingers while he rolled to pin Freed to the bed, kneeling between his legs. When Mard pulled back from the kiss and looked down at him, he paused.

Freed's emerald hair was splayed across cream-colored sheets. His lips were swollen and glistening, his eyes half-lidded. And while the sight was definitely arousing, that didn't leave him breathless. Not nearly as much as the mismatched gaze staring back at him. His right eye had a black sclera surrounding a glowing purple pupil. And just by looking into it, Mard could feel the demonic energy Freed had said was part of his magic calling out to him.

Freed licked his lips while looking up at Mard, confusion pinching his brows when he saw the wide-eyed stare sent back at him. "Is everything alright?"

"Your eye," Mard whispered. His fingers trailed lightly across Freed's flushed cheek, pushing his bangs behind his ear. Was it always like this? Was that why he kept it covered with his hair, so no one would be able to see it? Based on how the Rune mage's eyes widened, how he tried to push Mard's hand out of the way to cover his eye once more, he guessed that was the case.

"My apologies," Freed muttered quickly. "I-" He hissed when Mard sifted his fingers through his bangs and gripped the roots tightly, holding them away from his face.

"Do not hide this from me," Mard commanded. The longer he looked at that eye, the more he found his blood boiling with need. And here he'd thought the prospect of Mira Jane having demon souls in her was intriguing. But he'd been right in setting his attention on Freed. This was so much more than a few demon souls. "You have a demon inside of you."

"It's just part of my magic," Freed said. He was lying. Mard could tell. He knew the feeling this demon was evoking in him. This fire, this desperate need that called to the darkness swelling where his soul should have been. "I swear, it's not a demon. I lost control. I'll just… I need a moment."

Mard's eyes narrowed while he watched the sclera slowly fade to white. "Stop," he snarled. He didn't want Freed to bury this power. This long-familiar energy that begged him to hear its call. It had been so long since he'd felt this demon. A little over one hundred years, if he remembered correctly. He'd had such a deep connection with Gada back then.

Was that why he'd been drawn closer to Freed to begin with?

No, it hadn't been this energy within him. He'd been enthralled by Freed's beautiful hair first, and everything else had followed shortly after.

Still, Freed tried to keep this from him. He grabbed Mard's hand in his hair, and in his flailing attempts at freedom, he ground himself shamelessly against the demon's aching arousal. "It's not a demon," Freed said again. Did he not realize who he was talking to? Mard could tell just what it was. "I'm sorry. I'll make it stop, just…"

Freed cried out when Mard forced his head back, glaring down into his still mismatched eyes. Just like he'd expected, the flash of pain caused the black and purple to overtake Freed's eye again. He didn't notice the tears welling in Freed's eyes and slowly trickling down the sides of his face. "You will do nothing of the sort," he rasped. "Do you think I would shun a demon, when I rule them myself?"

Mard smirked when Freed gasped and shivered. The proverbial light bulb went off, and he could do nothing more than watch as his green-haired lover relaxed beneath him in shock. His grip on Freed's hair lessened to smooth his bangs back and away from his beautifully flushed face. This was something he would need to learn more about, but that would have to wait until later.

He could still feel the heat from Freed's cock against his own, and Mard was well past the point of waiting. He propped himself up on his knees and gazed down at the Rune mage's body on full display for him. Such beautiful porcelain skin, and it was already marked with small pink indentations from Mard's previous bites while they'd been downstairs. He gently grasped Freed's hips, moving his hands higher over the quivering flesh of his stomach, his chest, and finally resting on the cravat that was still wrapped around his throat like an aristocratic collar.

After carefully loosening the fabric and setting it off to the side, Mard looked back into Freed's mismatched eyes. He seemed a little more closed off now than he'd been before. That just wouldn't do at all.

"Would you like to use a lubricant?" Mard asked. He wasn't all that familiar with it himself, not the little vials of gels and creams that could be applied to ease his partner. Spit, blood, and semen were wonderful lubricants all on their own, either separately or combined. He wasn't picky. But that was with full-blooded demons. Freed, while he did have the essence of a demon within him, was still a human. His body probably wouldn't be able to handle the Mard's standard fare of punishment.

For the briefest of moments, he wondered why they were doing this at all. Until very recently, he'd despised humans entirely. He never would have considered bedding one of them, but there was something different about Freed. Something tantalizing that had nothing to do with the demon dwelling in his soul.

"Yes," Freed said softly. Mard waited as he leaned over to the nightstand and pulled out a small glass teardrop vial. He moved to kneel in front of Mard, and Freed bit his lip and hesitated.

"Do it," Mard said with a smirk. He fully enjoyed the way Freed's cheeks darkened from a faint pink tint to a roaring red while he removed the stopper. This was something he'd never done before. How strange it was that this human could surprise him, and could experience a first of his. His narrowed eyes stayed locked on Freed's hands, memorizing the way he carefully poured the clear liquid on his fingers, then brought them to Mard's cock.

Those long, thin fingers curved around the tip, spreading the lubricant over him. Mard held himself completely still, basking in the tenderness of Freed's slow strokes. It was over far too soon for his liking, but then Freed poured the rest of the lubricant on his fingers and reached back to prepare himself.

Mard lifted his hands and brought them to Freed's burning cheeks, pulling the Rune mage into a slow, exploring kiss that he was sure helped to relax him. Though hesitant at first, Freed's tongue slowly began to dance with his. Their lips moved in unison, until Mard heard the first mewl of pleasure from his lover. His hands shifted to collect Freed's hair, and he pulled it over his shoulder.

"Turn around, and don't stop," Mard rasped, kissing him once more before drawing back. "Show me how you pleasure yourself." He waited for Freed to get into position, licking his lips once he was on his hands and knees. The sight of two of Freed's fingers buried in his ass threatened to unravel the demon. He wanted so badly to be nestled in this lithe, muscular body.

Freed paused and dropped his head, then his fingers began to move. He gasped when Mard grabbed his ass and spread his cheeks to get a better view of those digits pushing in, slowly gliding out.

"Did you know I despise liars?" Mard whispered. He smirked when Freed slowed then added a third finger. How thorough. Of course, Mard would have preferred being able to hear the pained cries of his lover while burying himself deeply within him for the first time, but that could happen another time. "Never lie to me again, Freed."

"I-I wasn't," Freed said breathlessly. He cried out a moment later when Mard's hand crashed down on his ass. He grabbed Freed's slender wrist and pulled his fingers from his ass, then forced his hand to wrap around his lubed cock. Mard's hips shifted, pressing himself lightly against Freed's entrance. He couldn't wait anymore. And if the Rune mage refused to tell him the truth, then he needed to learn a lesson.

"I do hope you are ready," Mard growled.

"Yes."

"Yes, what?" He very nearly moaned when he felt the Rune mage's fingers tighten around his cock.

"Yes, Master," Freed breathed.

Mard smirked at the desire thickening his voice. He didn't whine or simper like some pathetic, needy bitch. No, Freed's voice was low and desperate, but respectful. It slithered down Mard's spine and sent waves of desire washing over his being. How could a mere human do something like this to him? Slowly, taking more care than he would have normally, he pushed forward.

The vice-like grip on the tip of his cock was rapturous. It left him ravenous, more than ready to spear into the Rune mage and take this pleasure for himself until he was fully sated. Still, Mard held back. He focused instead on the way Freed shuddered beneath him, how his back arched so gracefully with every short, careful thrust into him. Once Mard's hips were flush against him, he paused. Freed needed to adjust, he was sure.

His hands smoothed up Freed's spine as he withdrew, and his eyes slid closed at the first quiet moan drifting through the air.

"Gospodin…"

A wicked grin curled Mard's lips. "Rape you?" he chuckled. "Did I not tell you what would happen if you said that again?"

The way Freed slowly turned to look at him over his pale shoulder had Mard's breath stalling in his lungs. That glowing purple iris seemed to dance with carnal desire. "Good," Freed said. "I was hoping I said it right."

It had been intentional? He'd truly meant that and not Master as he'd been trying to say downstairs? Mard moved before he knew what was happening. One moment, he was staring down into Freed's sultry, demonic eye, and the next his fingers were wrapping around the discarded cravat on the bed and shoving it in Freed's mouth. He grabbed the ends of the cravat like reins and pulled back, gagging the Rune mage who groaned and rolled his hips.

"If that is what you wish," Mard growled. His thrusts were hard and heavy, rocking Freed's body forward only slightly before he was dragged back by the gag in his mouth. The violent slapping of skin and Freed muted howls of pleasure filled the air, but all Mard cared about was seeing the way Freed clawed at the bed. How his body so willingly took everything he was given.

Slowly, Freed's voice deepened. His chest vibrated with a low, predatory growl.

"Yes," Mard rasped. "That's the sound, Freed." His hips snapped forward again, and he grinned when that low rumbling sound grew louder. "Just like that."

He held both ends of the cravat in one hand and slowed down while pulling his lover up onto his knees. Mard's legs pushed against the backs of his thighs, forcing him to shuffle forward until his chest was pressed against the headboard. At Freed's soft whimper, he wrapped his free arm around the Rune mage's waist.

"I want you to let go," Mard whispered in his ear, nipping at the lobe. "Let your darkness out."

Freed tried to shake his head, but Mard's grip on the cravat tightened to hold him still. He wasn't sure he'd ever get enough of this powerful feeling. He could so easily kill Freed like this, just snap his neck and be on his way. But he wanted to feel the darkness in Freed's soul coiling around him, reaching out toward his presence so he could bask in it.

Deep down, Mard wanted to know whether what he'd thought was true. Was this really Gada's essence in Freed? Had the demon he'd cared so deeply for found a way to come back to him?

"That is an order," he rasped, his hips surging forward and pulling a keening cry of ecstasy from the Rune mage. "Let me feel it." He thrust harder than before, and Freed used one hand to grip his thigh and the other to hold onto the wall. "Let me taste the sin in you."

Freed gasped as Mard's pace quickened, his nails scraping along the dark grey paint on the wall. He couldn't speak, and while Mard wondered just what he was trying to say around the moistened fabric in his mouth, it wasn't enough to make him take it out. He rather liked this incoherent wailing from his lover. He loved how, as time ticked onward, Freed tried to push back into his heavy thrusts to take more of him at a quicker pace.

His little human was much more resilient that he'd thought possible.

The shift in the air was subtle at first. While Mard roughly bit Freed's shoulder, reveling in the low growl that rumbled in the Rune mage's chest, the pressure in the air increased. It would have been oppressive to anyone else, but not for Mard. Dark, dangerous energy wafted off of Freed in waves, drawing the first pleasured sound from the Demon King.

He moaned long and low as he felt Freed give in to the darkness within him. "That's it, Freed," he rasped. His head turned to take in his lover's profile, and a fresh flash of longing ricocheted through him.

Freed's mouth was forced open, his lips held tightly against his teeth and snarling. The cravat had pulled the corners of his mouth hard enough that Mard was sure the skin would be chafed once they were done. Moisture clumped his long lashes, with fresh tear tracks on his reddened cheeks.

He wondered what would happen if he used his telepathy to heighten Freed's experience. As soon as the thought formed in his mind, Mard had to know. He sent a quick glimpse to the pinned mage of just how broken and submissive he looked in Mard's eyes. And the effect was nearly enough to overwhelm him. It certainly did overwhelm Freed.

Freed's eyes grew wide and horrified, even as his hips pushed back into Mard's. He shook his head, his breaths growing heavier. But Mard felt it where he was buried deep in the Rune mage. He felt the way his muscles tightened, how he tried to hold back even now.

That just wouldn't do.

"Is this what you like?" he panted, roughly biting into Freed's shoulder again and drawing a muffled howl from the Rune mage. "You wanted me to rape you, Freed. Is this what you wanted?"

Before he could deny it, Mard wrapped his hand around Freed's neglected cock that had been smashed against the headboard. He stroked him quickly, uncaring of whether there was too much friction on the sensitive tip.

"The truth," Mard sneered. "Do not lie to me. Is this what you wanted?"

Freed thrashed in his grasp, pushing his body greedily back against Mard's and trying to claw his way to freedom at the same time.

"Or is this what the demon in you wants?" Mard asked with a knowing grin. He pulled away entirely, moaning as he left the warm tightness of Freed's body, then used the cravat to drag Freed down to the bed.

Freed landed on his back with a groan that turned into a scream as Mard pounced and drove himself back in. Mard tossed the cravat off the bed and resumed his previous pace, watching the devastation etched onto Freed's face as he screamed and moaned. Even still, Freed's legs latched onto his hips and his hands massaged Mard's forearms.

"Th-The demon," Freed whimpered. "It's me. W-We're the same!"

"And you both want this?"

"Yes!" Freed moaned. "All of it… Day mne vse!"

Mard's eyes widened and his pace faltered for a moment. How had Freed so seamlessly transitioned into Infernai without blinking an eye? He'd growled and rasped in the right places while begging for more. His inflections and pitch were very nearly perfect. His distraction was a mistake he shouldn't have made.

Freed took the lead and curved a hand around the back of Mard's neck, dragging him with enough force that he collapsed on top of the Rune mage. Their lips met in a frenzy of harsh, biting kisses punctuated with vicious growls. When he felt Freed's fingers sifting through his hair, dragging gently along his scalp without pulling the long indigo tresses, Mard let go of any reservations he may have had about being too aggressive with his human lover.

It didn't matter to him whether the citizens of Magnolia could hear Freed's pleasure, or the way he roared like a true demon when he finally found his release. That sound paired with the brighter glow from his eye was one that would stay with Mard for years to come. And for the next several hours, he made it his mission to hear that sound as many times as the Rune mage was capable of.

---

Early morning light filtered in through the bedroom window, even with the blinds drawn and the curtains closed. Freed had been awake for several minutes already, and simply allowing himself to soak in the warmth of strong arms wrapped around him. But the sun had already fully broken past the horizon, and that meant that his morning was starting much later than usual.

Then again, with how long he and Mard had been writhing around on the bed - then in the shower, and a third time in the doorway to his bedroom, with Freed being forced to use the jamb to bring himself to completion while the Demon King fucked him senseless - it made sense that he had slept in. They hadn't even eaten dinner the night before. He'd been far too content feeling Mard's hands all over him. He'd reciprocated with his lips trailing over Mard's sweaty flesh, licking and kissing and eventually biting every inch of his body.

His head tilted back and he smiled while taking in Mard's sleep-softened features. The most noticeable difference was in his mouth. While awake, Mard's lips were held just a little tighter, almost as though he was trying to keep his reactions to things in check constantly. But right then, he was so relaxed that Freed didn't see a demon at all. No, if anything, Mard Geer Tartaros looked like an angel as he slumbered the morning away.

The day before had been the first time in a long while that Freed had felt comfortable enough to truly let go with someone. He knew it had everything to do with the fact that Mard hadn't been concerned in the slightest over that darker side of his magic.

No, his demon. At least, in his head, he could admit what it really was. It wasn't just some spell he cast that gave him that monstrous form. He'd spent so long telling others that it was just part of his magic, but Mard had seen through it instantly. And he hadn't been scared by it.

Freed needed to get up. He had to leave this bed. He couldn't lie here and let himself believe for even a second that there would be anything more between himself and Mard than what they'd had the day before. There would be no flowers exchanged between them. There wouldn't be long nights lying in this bed together, looking into each other's eyes and talking in hushed whispers about their deepest secrets. Waking up with Mard's arms around him and the smell of roses lingering in the air wasn't going to happen again, and even if it did it would only be because they'd spent most of the night awake and… fucking.

They wouldn't make love. It wasn't even really sex, as far as Freed was concerned. Mard had fucked him, and he'd loved every second of it. He wouldn't deny that. Even when he'd felt humiliated, even when he'd felt the sting of his lips splitting as Mard pulled a little too tightly on the cravat that had been gagging him, he'd loved it.

But that was nothing more than a means to an end. They'd used each other for a release… well, for several releases. He wouldn't be able to look forward to tender kisses first thing in the morning, or a relaxing massage after a long, difficult mission.

There was nothing here but raw, physical desire and an appreciation for intelligence.

Slowly, Freed lifted Mard's limp arm from where it was draped across his back, watching to make sure he didn't wake his guest.

Yes, a guest. That's all Mard was now. And if he was a guest, then it was only right for Freed to be a proper host. A warm, caffeinated beverage and something to eat were definitely at the top of the list. Freed needed his daily cup of coffee as it was, and his stomach was screaming for nourishment. It was with that thought in mind that Freed went to the adjoining master bathroom and relieved himself. He ignored his reflection and the bite marks and hickeys that he knew were still littering his chest and stomach, and instead put on his favorite navy blue plush robe. He pulled his spare burgundy robe from his linen closet and took it back to the bedroom, setting it at the foot of the bed for Mard when he woke up.

While leaving the room, Freed pulled the hair band from his wrist and tied his hair up into a high ponytail. If he was going to be cooking, then his hair needed to be nowhere near the stove. Besides, he hadn't wanted to dawdle in the bathroom, so he'd skipped brushing the tangles from his hair. If only he'd thought to braid it like he normally did before bed.

He didn't notice how Mard's lips turned down only slightly while he kept sleeping, his arm stretching out across the bed in search of Freed's warmth.

Freed made a simple breakfast of omelettes, toast, and bacon for the both of them. It was easy enough that Freed did everything on autopilot from cooking to brewing a strong pot of coffee to cleaning up the kitchen. He placed their plates on a tray he'd gotten specifically for times like this - when he had a guest who stayed the night, which was usually his mother because she made a point of being more involved in his life after he'd come back from Tenrou - then added two cups of coffee and the cutlery. Just before heading upstairs, Freed made sure to pick up the small carton of creamer that he kept on the off chance he didn't want to drink black coffee. He didn't know how Mard liked his coffee, after all.

Maybe he didn't even like coffee at all. Oh well, it was the thought that counted, he supposed.

Finally, Freed went back up the stairs and to his bedroom. He paused in the doorway when he saw Mard was still asleep. Maybe he should put the food down and try to wake the demon up first. He wasn't sure what the proper etiquette was for waking a demon. Did one do that from a distance to avoid being hit with the demon's curse?

He made his way to the bed and nibbled his lip while gazing down at the slumbering King of the Underworld. He'd made a point of not looking back once he'd gotten out of the bed, so Freed hadn't seen much more than Mard's beautiful face so close to his. But now that he could see all of him, in all of his unholy glory, Freed was left speechless.

This was the man he'd submitted to the day before. Someone so painfully beautiful had lowered themselves enough to be with him, of all people. He'd been lucky enough to feel that sturdy chest brushing against his. Those thin, biteable hips had been grinding between his legs and slapping against his ass. The cream cotton sheet was bunched up around Mard's hips, and his luscious indigo hair was spread out across the pillow with several unruly locks hanging down over his chin.

Mard shifted slightly and Freed found himself entranced by his slender fingers. He'd sucked on those fingers while being pinned in the doorway and taken from behind. Mard had wanted to rid him of his gag reflex entirely, and made a point of shoving them down Freed's throat until he could play and scissor them to his heart's content.

How could he have been so fortunate, to have had a night with someone like Mard?

Why couldn't it be more than just one night, though? Right, even if it was more than a night, it would never be what Freed really wished it could be.

Mard's head turned toward him slowly, and his tired eyes creaked open. Freed was surprised to see his lips turn down into a small pout while one hand brushed across the bed. The space just next to him, where Freed had been so comfortable. The space he hadn't wanted to leave, but it had been necessary. If he'd stayed there, then he would have allowed himself the weakness of believing that romance and relationships were a possibility in his life. He couldn't have that.

"You made me coffee?" Mard asked, his voice thick with sleep.

Freed glanced at the tray he was still holding, then looked back at the deliciously naked man in his bed. "Breakfast as well. We missed dinner."

He hadn't expected to see Mard smile. Ever. Sure, the night before he'd smirked on occasion, and there had been a few expressions that could have been considered in the general family of smiling, but none had looked like this. None of those expressions had been so tender, almost childish.

Why did he have to be so damned beautiful?

Why did he have to rub the sleep from his eyes and stretch with his free hand above his head like this, putting himself on display so perfectly? Why couldn't Freed look away?

He'd had plenty of lovers in the past who were pretty. The perfect eye candy. And never before had he struggled so much to rein in his emotions.

He couldn't expect anything in return for the night they'd shared. What did it matter if Mard wasn't afraid of the demon inside of him like everyone else before? So what if Mard hadn't run from him, screaming in fear and calling him a monster, just from seeing his eye? He would still have to leave eventually. And maybe they would run into one another here and there, and they could share a long night worshipping each other's flesh. Freed didn't need anything more than that. This could be enough for him.

It had to be enough.

"What has to be enough?" Mard asked around a yawn. Freed shook his head to clear his thoughts, and found the great Demon King slowly sitting up. He set the tray down on the bed and let out a quiet sigh. "Wait… coffee first… Need coffee."

Freed's lips quirked only slightly. He carefully handed one coffee mug to Mard, and before he could ask if the demon needed any cream or sugar - damn, he'd forgotten the sugar! - or even warn him of the temperature, Mard took a large gulp. He moaned quietly before taking another sip.

Freed was ready to take a seat, but Mard's hand shot out and he held up a finger. He took one more small sip of coffee before finally pulling the mug away from his lips. "No clothing in bed. That is a crime."

"It's my robe," Freed said.

Mard smiled again and blinked slowly while his gaze burned a trail down the center of his chest. "I am naked. You should be too."

Freed really didn't want to argue. And it wasn't like he had anything to hide. Mard had seen everything he had to offer already. So, he simply shrugged out of his robe and let it fall to the floor, then crawled back into the bed. Freed settled the tray over their laps once his legs were back under the sheet, and grabbed his own mug to take a sip of the rich dark roast.

He tried to hide the fact that he was holding his breath while Mard took the first bite of his omelette. "I didn't know what you would like," Freed said softly, cutting into his own omelette. He knew that the Tartaros demons did eat. He'd noticed that female demon sitting with Erza and sharing a slice of cake with the Requip mage the day before.

"What do you call this?"

Freed blinked in surprise and slowly pulled the fork from between his lips. While he chewed, he watched Mard poke at his slices of bacon with his fork. "Bacon," he said once he'd swallowed. "It's made from pigs. You can use your hands to eat it."

Mard hummed and took another sip of coffee. He set his fork down and sighed heavily, and Freed's head tilted in curiosity while the unkempt demon beside him ran a hand over his face and up through his disheveled hair. What would it be like to brush that for him? Would Mard let him do something like that?

"I really, really would," Mard sighed into his coffee cup.

"Pardon?"

"You brushing my hair. I would let you." His midnight eyes slid open and toward Freed, his hands cupping his warm mug as his lips curled into a sleepy smile. "Based on the state of your hair before I got you in this bed, you understand the importance of…" He paused to sip his coffee again. Freed had seriously underestimated his love of the caffeinated beverage. "What was I saying? Ah, hair. You may brush mine."

He was making it extremely difficult not to smile, even with the hollow ache in his chest that Freed was astutely ignoring. It was easy to ignore in favor of this suddenly giddy feeling that swirled around in his belly. Mard breathed deeply to smell the aroma of his coffee again, bringing a gentle flush to his cheeks from the heat. "After breakfast," Freed finally said. He really needed to control himself.

"And more coffee." Mard set his empty cup on the tray, and carefully picked up a piece of bacon. He took a bite, and his eyes opened a little more as he chewed. "And more of this… you said it was bacon?" Freed nodded, and Mard took another bite. "Genius."

Freed bit his lip and slowly handed Mard his mug. "There is more coffee downstairs, but…"

Mard carefully took the cup and brought it to his lips. He inhaled the rich aroma, took a small sip, and let out a contented sigh. After a moment, he set down the mug and turned his attention to Freed who had just taken another bite of his omelette. He jolted when Mard's hand curved around his cheek and drew him into a slow kiss that had Freed fighting to swallow his half-chewed food. It was a good thing he did, because no sooner had the food gone down his throat, and Mard's coffee-flavored tongue was gently teasing his lips apart.

He'd never kissed someone so soon after waking up, and definitely not with both of them still naked in the bed. Without thinking, Freed leaned into the kiss and let himself be swept away in the sinful tongue that curled around his own. Mard's hand curved around the back of his neck, and Freed stopped caring about anything outside of the two of them in that moment.

It didn't matter to him whether this was all he and Mard would have. It didn't matter what anyone else might say if they found out what had happened between them. He didn't care about the opinions of Laxus or Bickslow or Evergreen, or even his mother.

Nothing could take him from this one moment, this singularly earth-shattering kiss that tasted of coffee and bacon and everything that was him.

Freed's hand rested on Mard's soft, stubble-free cheek, drifted higher to sift through his hair. He couldn't be sure how long they'd kissed, but when they finally separated, he looked into Mard's eyes and lost himself in their inky depths. "... Wow."

Mard's gaze danced with mirth as he took in Freed's appearance. He lightly toyed with the Rune mage's ponytail and brushed their noses together. "Wow, indeed," he whispered. Their next kiss was softer, just the barest touch of lips before they both smiled.

"Breakfast will get cold," Freed breathed.

"You taste better."

"The coffee will get cold, too..."

Mard chuckled and kissed him again. "That can be remedied." He grabbed the coffee mug and turned just enough to drink the rest of the still steaming liquid, then set it back on the tray. Freed's lips were captured once more, and he couldn't be sure if it was the lingering heat of the coffee on Mard's tongue or something else that had this fire washing through him.

What he did know was that there was no way to stop his heart from getting involved in this. Not this time. There was just something about Mard that called to the deepest parts of his soul. Freed wasn't hopeful for the future. It would be riddled with heartache for him, and he knew that. He knew that if he let himself believe there was the possibility of a happy ending for them, he would only get himself hurt.

"I have no intention of hurting you," Mard's soft voice whispered through his head. He tried to draw back in surprise, but the demon had other plans and kept their lips connected. "Now, stop thinking so much and kiss me, my silly little human."

Freed laughed into the kiss and pushed the tray away from them, sliding it further down the bed. He climbed into Mard's lap and stopped thinking about the future and what he wished could happen. Instead, he focused on the strong hands gently clasping at the base of his spine and the softly smiling lips that peppered his cheeks and chin and throat with slow, wanting kisses.

.The End…
… For Now?

---

Just a few quick notes:

1. I know Freed's eye isn't always all glowy and shit. I changed it for the purposes of this story, because… reasons.

2. MadSoullessQueen is an enabler, and I really enjoyed working with her to incorporate her headcanons about Mard's coffee addiction and Infernai into this.

3. Yes, I have considered continuing this story, but it's not a priority right now. I have ideas but haven't done much plotting for it. One day, I may return to this and pick up where this chapter left off. That won't happen until I've whittled down my ongoing story list though.

4. I swear, I'm gonna start working on my main stories now that this is finished. It took me a week to write it between late night chats with some amazing gals, helping to edit some chapters (seriously, go check out Her Sire by MadSoullessQueen, if you haven't already… Vampire!MardLu. Just sayin'...), and real life in general.

5. This was supposed to be a short thing... We see how that turned out.

6. The title of this is a reference to an amazing song by the same title, sung by Hugh Laurie. Check it out on Youtube.