Laxus and Freed are exhausted and injured, but they still manage to get up to mischief. It's just a bit creative. (Fic #6 for When We Take Different Paths MLM week.)

A/N: Prompt = tired + Fraxus.

Tired

Laxus was sore in every muscle.

It felt like someone had danced a hundred jigs over every part of his body. His fucking armpit felt bruised. Lying in bed wasn't even helping. Everything hurt, so there was no comfy way to lie so that he wasn't in pain—and he wasn't in any state to go shifting around anyway.

Beside him, Freed groaned.

"Can't sleep either?" Laxus asked.

"There's too much fucking light," Freed groaned. "Even with the blinds closed. My body still knows it's the middle of the afternoon."

"Yeah. Last time I pulled an all-nighter on a job, I was asleep by ten in the morning."

"Too much pain this time."

"Too much pain," Laxus agreed.

Gradual rustles led to a hand finding his, long fingers curling loosely around his own. They lay like that for a while, Laxus rubbing his thumb back and forth across Freed's fingers at a very slow pace.

"I like your calluses," Laxus said.

He could hear Freed's smile in the way he exhaled.

"I like yours too."

Laxus gave his hand a squeeze and managed to roll onto his side, met with the much nicer view of Freed's weary face, rather than the ceiling.

Sighing, Laxus ran his hand up Freed's arm and rested it on Freed's bare shoulder.

"Mm, you're warm," Freed said.

"You're cold." Laxus brushed his fingers up Freed's neck to his chin. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, just happens when I'm tired. My body wants to shut down and sleep."

Taking a deep breath, Freed shifted closer so his shoulder was up against Laxus's chest. Laxus decided that the movement would be worth it and went through the aching procedure of removing his shirt. Freed was already shirtless, his in shreds from their mission, somewhere in some field.

"You got a scratch," Freed said.

Laxus followed his gaze to a red mark on his pec. "Not bad. You got worse."

Freed looked down in surprise, fingering the scab across his stomach. When Laxus gently ran his fingers over it, Freed closed his eyes and hummed.

"Sorry you got hit," Laxus said, tilting his head just a few centimeters so he could kiss Freed's shoulder. "I can't believe I missed that shot."

"You can't get it right every time," Freed said. "Losing one of my shirts is not a high price to pay, anyway. They're replaceable."

He opened his eyes and found Laxus's gaze.

"You, on the other hand, are not, Monsieur Dreyar."

Laxus grunted.

Smiling, Freed kissed him softly on the mouth. They leaned into each other, more supportive than energetic as they mouthed softly at each other.

Freed's head thudded back onto the pillow, but Laxus put his forehead against Freed's collarbone. Sliding himself down the bed, he made his way to the cut on Freed's stomach and flicked his tongue out to gently lick along it. Freed's reaction was a slight shuddering, abs tensing and rising toward Laxus's mouth.

Laxus's worn-out body hadn't wanted sleep or anything else, but now he found himself with enough energy to bite Freed's side, sucking the skin below his ribs, watching Freed's hips squirm at the touch.

"Laxus…" It was half a groan, half a plea. "I'm too tired to…but…"

Freed trailed off.

"Same," Laxus said, shifting himself halfway on top of Freed, up at eye level again. He could put his weight on his side and not crush his partner, and this gave him a lot more ability to touch Freed.

Laxus stared at the gradations of blue in Freed's eyes when he felt fingers under his chin, trailing up to his lips.

The touch was simple, but so erotic, Freed dragging his finger along Laxus's bottom lip. After a trembling breath, Laxus kissed his finger, watched Freed's eyes fall shut, his face looking vulnerable and in love.

Laxus's head fell forward and he sucked at Freed's neck.

"Gods," Freed breathed desperately.

When one's whole body hurt, each tiny sensation of pleasure was intense, like a spotlight on a single nerve. That was how it felt when Freed's cold fingertips brushed over his nipple. Groaning, Laxus bit down on his throat, feeling Freed's breath seize under his teeth.

"Fuck, Laxus," Freed moaned, muffled, fingers still trailing over his chest, flicking over the other nipple and causing twinges of pleasure to ricochet up his chest. Laxus dragged his nails over Freed's skin. "Laxus… Oh my god."

"Keep making those sounds," Laxus growled, feeling the pulsing need below his belt slide along Freed's hipbone.

With his other hand, Freed took firm hold of Laxus's chin and drew him in, kissing him harder this time and running his tongue inside Laxus's lips. Laxus moved sideways—

"Fuck!" Freed broke off to tip his head back, mouth open. Laxus had shifted his lower body—he ached, but it took only a little force to rub up against the length of Freed's lithe frame, and this put them against each other, hard and tall.

The stimulation was intense, directly against knotted muscles. Freed was arching despite his weariness, abs tensing and turning Laxus on even more.

He loved looking at Freed, loved the curve of his muscles, the compact efficiency of his body. The sharp divots that ran down into his trousers, the line of hair that pointed straight down to where his cock strained up against fabric.

Shifting onto his arms, Laxus moved again, finding a slow, excruciating rhythm that had them both panting and groaning each other's name.

"Freed," Laxus managed, thinking about Freed's long cock, "fuck, I…I wish I had the energy to ride you."

Freed's eyes opened, needy and debauched.

"I wish I had the energy to fuck you," he replied.

Laxus bit his lip and gave a hard thrust so they ground together. There was cloth in the way and yet there was no time, no energy to remove it: there was only feeling, and the feelings said to keep moving. And there was something incredibly sexy about getting excited and fucking through their trousers.

As Laxus's arms shook, Freed added his own, hands on Laxus's chest helping to hold him up and keep them frotting against each other.

"You're so…" Freed's fingers tightened on his skin. "You're so beautiful."

The quiet hitch in his voice made Laxus look down at him. There was a longing on Freed's face that hit him square in the chest and pushed all the air out of the room.

"Freed. Gods, Freed."

Neck tensing, Freed leaned up as Laxus continued moving, and kissed Laxus's lips. It was a gentle and warm kiss, followed by a pause, then another kiss, sweet and consuming. Freed's body moved up against Laxus's, humping, grasping.

"Right there. Fuck." Freed's voice slid to a whisper. "I love feeling your cock on mine."

Those words were sensual tendrils that grabbed Laxus by the balls.

"Freed—oh godsss…"

"Yes?" Freed hissed, possessive, and twisted his nipple.

Laxus came hard in his pants, a warm rush suffused with pleasure. The rough texture of his trousers gave added friction. Tingling excitement was all of his existence; Laxus felt every part of him awash with it.

He listened in awed contentment as Freed gasped, "Laxus. Oh fuck, Laxus!" and clamped his thighs around Laxus's leg.

Freed's mouth fell open. Laxus swiped his tongue over Freed's lips to join his ecstasy, tasting Freed's shivering breath.

Smelling Freed's cum, Laxus settled back, peace relaxing his muscles. As he stared wearily down at his grinning boyfriend, he felt like a king: he could get Freed Justine to make those debauched sounds and come so intensely and stare up with whole galaxies in his eyes.

He didn't know what he'd do without Freed.

Freed's eyes were drifting shut, and Laxus yawned as he slid onto the bed beside Freed.

"Stay close," Freed murmured, pulling Laxus's arm over himself so Laxus's sweaty chest pressed against Freed's back.

Laxus didn't protest: he didn't think he could move.

"Mm. Love you," Freed said, cuddling closer. "Thanks."

"Thanks back." Laxus sleepily kissed the nearest part of Freed he could reach: the tip of his ear. "Love you back."

Freed made a dreamy noise. Laxus realized he closed his eyes without meaning to, and he let it happen, the feeling pulling him down into the mattress and sleep. They could clean up later.

As he drifted off, he felt Freed under his palm, warm and breathing and close. Everything was okay.