Here's part three. I hope you all enjoy it. Little warning, there's alcohol consuption in this. They're of age, but it's best to be safe with a warning.
As always, thank you so much for any comments and kudos you leave. They mean so much. Hope you enjoy and thanks for reading. ^.^
Chapter Three – Drinking
The sensation of cold beer filling his stomach was amazing, Laxus found. Even if the beer was cheaper than anything he usually drank, and although the tankard he drank from was a dulled metal rather than the crystal glass he was used to, he felt as though this was perhaps the best drink he'd had for months. The reason for this was clear for him; he was drinking in an empty tavern that was hours away from Magnolia's outer walls.
This was part of his grandfather's plans to allow him more freedom. It had been over a month since Makarov had alluded to this, and Laxus had all but given up hope that anything would happen. Then he had been called into his grandfather's office and was told that he would be visiting the town of Era.
Apparently, as future king, Laxus needed to make himself known throughout the kingdom. He wasn't going to argue if it got him out.
Makarov had promised that this would be happening more in the coming months, and he would be visiting all the largest and most important towns and cities in the kingdom for these royal appearances. Laxus couldn't be sure if Makarov actually thought it was important for him to meet the people of Fiore, or if this was just a way to appease Laxus' need to travel, but the blonde didn't care. Getting out of the castle, and Magnolia, was worth it either way. Hopefully, when Makarov saw that nobody was actually trying to kill him, the restrictions would be removed, and he would be granted the same level of freedom that he used to have.
The Inn he was staying in – Cait Shelter – was not in the town he was visiting, but a few miles away. It was a small place and not nearly as luxurious as the castle, but it was homely and comfortable. Makarov had also organised their accommodation and had apparently insisted that nobody else be staying there while he was. It wasn't needed, but Laxus would be lying if he said he didn't enjoy the quiet.
He couldn't exactly say the same thing about the journey there.
It had been him, and his three retainers. The entire carriage ride there had been more tense than Laxus cared for. Bickslow had been chatting almost constantly, sitting beside Laxus and watching the trees roll by. Evergreen was sitting beside Freed, who was piloting their carriage. Usually they would have had someone other than a retainer to do that, but apparently Freed already knew how to do that and having less people in their traveling party greatly increased security. They were Freed's words, and Laxus had his jaw clenched when he said them.
The entire trip here had just felt wrong. Before, carriage rides with his retainers had been a time where he could let loose and have fun with his friends, but not this time. Freed was an intruder. Evergreen and Bickslow didn't seem to think that way as they continued as if nothing was different, but Laxus couldn't. It just felt wrong.
Perhaps that was his fault. He didn't care.
Throughout the month he had known Freed, he had made an effort not to get to know him. There was no reason for him to see him, other than whenever he went into Magnolia. Other than a few misguided attempts and making them friends by Bickslow and Ever, their interactions had been minimal and professional only.
Every time he saw Freed, Laxus felt himself get angry. Not only was he proof that Makarov didn't trust him to look after himself, but he was also just an asshole. That was the only way Laxus could describe him. He was smug, self-interested, rude and fucking intolerable.
He had asked Bickslow why they were friends with him, and the retainer just replied by saying a lot of those terms could be applied to the prince himself. Later that day, Bickslow was mucking out the stables on his own on the prince's orders. What a coincidence.
Even with the smug satisfaction Laxus got from that petty revenge, he was still angry.
It was indescribable as to why Laxus was so affected by Freed. He knew his anger wasn't completely rational, but every time he saw the man it was like a fire exploding inside of him. It reminded Laxus of how he felt whenever his father was mentioned. His opinion of Freed was nowhere near the visceral hatred he held for Ivan – nothing could be, the blonde suspected – but there was just as much passion in regard to what he thought of both men. They both just made him feel so much.
That was why he enjoyed the empty tavern so much. The entire journey he had been stewing on these overly passionate feelings, and he needed a break from it.
And the beer, as previously stated, was fantastic. It was strong enough so that, after having two tankards of it, he was feeling a satisfying buzz flow through him. The bartender was sticking to the backroom, only coming into the tavern hall when Laxus needed a new drink or if the fire was starting to die out. It was relaxing and freeing and a moment of perfection which Laxus felt he was owed, because it had been far too long since he had truly felt like that.
So of course, eventually, it had to end.
He had just finished his third drink when he heard the door opening and looked around to see who it was. An unhindered groan of annoyance filled the room when he saw that it was Freed who had entered it. Fantastic.
Apparently unaffected by the loud sound of disproval at his entrance, Freed walked towards the bar and, when the bartender arrived again, ordered himself a beer. Worse still, for Laxus, was when he turned around and walked towards the same table Laxus was leaning against. He pulled out a chair and sat opposite, and Laxus barely fought off the drunken urge to try and kick his chair out from under him.
"Thought an uptight asshole like you would only drink water from the purest stream of the kingdom," Laxus sneered, voice more slurred than he expected. "Don't want to sully that perfect fucking image you think you have."
That wasn't what he wanted to say, he wanted to ask why the hell Freed thought they were on good enough terms for him to sit at the same table and drink together. Did he not know Laxus was a prince and that the staff usually drank elsewhere? Or that he didn't like him? The sober part of his mind told him that, most likely, Freed was sitting there so their mutual distain wasn't obvious to the tavern staff. They needed to present a unite front at all times, for the best chance of remaining safe.
Fuck, those were Freed's exact words. Bastard.
"I can drink," Freed replied, his eyes scanning Laxus, clearly judging him. "As can you, it seems."
It was incredibly tempting to fall for it because Freed was baiting him into an argument. Laxus knew that, with the amount he had drunk already, he was only slightly slumped over and he wasn't too dishevelled. For all anyone would know, this was his first beer and he wasn't even remotely drunk.
Rather than speaking – as he knew he'd probably say something that a bartender shouldn't hear from a prince's mouth – he glared at his new drinking partner. Freed either didn't notice or wanted to taunt Laxus by not reacting, as he picked up his tankard of beer and started to drink some of it; a few large gulps. Laxus wanted to roll his eyes – the amount he had drunk was almost definitely a way to further disprove Laxus assumption. A metaphorical middle finger to the prince.
"Not bad," Laxus muttered, bringing his own tankard to his lips. It was three quarters full, so he emptied it.
It was a spite thing, Laxus could admit.
Annoying, Freed knew this, as he let out a single chuckle and drained his own drink.
"Would you like another, your highness?" He asked, and Laxus felt his anger burning him inside at the use of his title. The way Freed said it, the slight sneer and tone of arrogance that was in his voice just pissed Laxus on in a way that he couldn't understand.
"Yes. Now," He snapped. If nothing else, Freed was his underling and that gave him the authority to order him around when he wished.
It took a few minutes for Freed to get their next round of drinks, and somehow, they didn't enter into anything of a drinking contest. The last remnants of sobriety were telling the blonde that there was no point – if Freed could drink that much that fast, then the only outcome of trying to drink him under the table would be an inability to remember what happened for the rest of the evening when he next woke up. So even if he did win some kind of contest, he wouldn't remember it. And wiping the smugness off that bastard's face would be something to remember.
Similar to the carriage ride, the drinking session was tense. It had an uneasiness about it and Laxus wished that either Freed left to go to his room, or one of the other retainers came back to act as a buffer between them. But, as that wish went unnoticed, the two men drank in silence.
It was when he was halfway through his fifth beer that Laxus considered himself to be drunk. He hadn't intended for that to happen, but he couldn't change anything now. And, under his grandfather's instructions, he never actually got drunk when he was in Magnolia, so it had been a while and he felt he earned it. Besides, it wasn't as if he was an aggressive drunk or did anything that would get him into trouble, he just felt all his stresses go away.
One such stress that left him was the good sense to think before he spoke. At the start of his sixth drink, he slammed the tankard down and glared at Freed.
"What the fuck is your problem?" He demanded, and Freed looked almost alarmed for the first time.
Freed himself wasn't sober, and Laxus got a small sense of pleasure from the fact he had drunk more than the retainer, but they seemed equally intoxicated. The knight's hair was ruffled and his clothes not as neatly pressed as they should be. He couldn't handle his booze as well as Laxus could.
"You know I'm a prince right. Fucking royalty," Laxus continued. "I'm your better, get that through your fucking skull."
Pulling rank on people wasn't something he normally did, other than with his friends and he only did that in jest, so this almost shocked Laxus himself. But he had a damn point, because a prince deserved a baseline amount of respect and Freed had given him almost the exact opposite of that and Laxus was pissed off at him.
"That's exactly why I dislike you," Freed said, apparently having drunk enough to get loose lipped also. "You're a spoiled little trophy in your family's cabinet."
Laxus tensed at that, but a mean grin split its way across his face. If Freed was willing to make low blows like that, then there was nothing stopping Laxus from doing the same thing, and that was more than fine with the blonde.
"So you're fucking jealous?" Laxus barked out a laugh. "Fuck, if you told me sooner, I could have been pissing you off a whole lot more than I already have. You're one of those assholes that just resent my family. We've got a name for them. Whiny, jealous little dickholes."
"I'm not jealous of you," Freed said, and his tone said he believed his words. "And I don't hate your family. Just you."
"And you got stuck with me. Looking after me. Serving me," Laxus laughed at his own analysis of the situation. "Holy shit that's good. All this time you've been working for me, you've probably been stewing and raging about how much you hate me. That's great."
"I can assure you that's untrue," Freed replied, eyes dark. "Looking after a man like you, who's only reaction to anything is to shout at the world like a damn toddler, I haven't had the time to think about anything else other than keeping you on a leash. Which you might know if you worked a damn day in your life."
Laxus jaw clenched. "You don't think I work? You don't think what I do is fucking work?"
"In two days' time an entire town is putting on a party to celebrate you visiting them. That is probably the most effort you've put into anything for years," Freed all but growled, and Laxus stopped.
This had been the first time Freed had raised his voice and had shown any side of himself other than the cocky, in-control persona that he seemed to wear, and it sent a shiver down Laxus' back for some reason. He didn't know why that happened, as his head was a mess of anger and adrenaline and alcohol and confusing, contradictory feelings. He could only ignore what overtook him for a split second and instead grit his teeth further.
"You don't understand what work is, Dreyar," Freed finished, his face dark.
"I don't understand what work is, huh?" Laxus crossed his arms, smirking again. "That's rich, coming from the fucking criminal. Y'know, I got curious and found out what you did to get locked up. Stealing art from the castle? You've got balls, but no fucking integrity. So don't get all fucking holy than thou on me about working if you just take anything you want."
That seemed to have struck a nerve with Freed, and Laxus revelled in his expression.
"I attempted to steal nothing you would have missed," He said after a moment, his voice almost deadly calm. "And I put more work into getting those paintings than anyone in your family ever has."
Laxus went to open his mouth again, but Freed stood, his face a stormy expression. The retainer practically spat out a goodnight, and Laxus bristled again at the viciousness with which Freed said 'your highness' again. So apparently mentioning the fact Freed was a thief affected him more than Laxus expected. If Freed was willing to leave their argument after it was mentioned then it must be a sore spot.
Perhaps if he was sober, he might have let Freed leave without another world. Hell, he might have felt some kind of guilt for going after something like that. But right now, he was filled with adrenaline and the idea of ending this fight wasn't good enough. Wasn't satisfying enough.
It took him a few moments to decide that this fight wasn't over, and he had more left to say. He stood up, perhaps knocking over the chair as he did so, and stormed through the doors that Freed had just walked through. He walked up the staircase to the landing hall where he saw a door swinging shut – he knew that it was Freed's door. He strode over to it and banged his fist on it multiple times. It opened after his third slam.
Freed's face was an expression of anger, rather than sadness, which Laxus' drunken mind took as an invitation to continue his tirade.
"We ain't fucking done, Justine," Laxus snarled, and Freed stepped out of his room in retort. "You don't get to fucking disrespect me for a whole damn month and then run away when I start throwing shit back at you. That ain't happening!"
"I wasn't running away. I was giving you an out," Freed growled, taking another step forward. "Before one of us did something regrettable."
"Oh I don't think I'm going to fucking regret this," Laxus sneered again, leaning down slightly just to emphasize his slight height advantage. "You're a stuck-up dick, who yells about how hard he works but got caught in the fucking act of stealing. So you're not only a fucking hypocrite, but a shitty one at that."
A pause.
"Very well," Freed said after a moment. "But I'd rather be a 'shitty hypocrite' than a spoiled little daddy's boy whose daddy's on the run for treason."
Ivan. Perhaps the one thing that truly got under Laxus' skin.
Laxus felt true rage flow through him, perhaps something that hadn't happened since he last saw his father. A man who he hated. A man who had fucked him over constantly and had yet to face any real consequences. A man who, now, was being thrown back in his face by Freed Fucking Justine.
How dare he!
The two men were silent for a moment, standing chest to chest with palpable animosity between them. They were staring at each other, muscles tense and forms rigid. Both had seemingly passed the point of no return and neither was willing to back down at this point. It was a clear stare down between them both and neither wanted to give in. this was something that had to happen – something that was always going to happen with the two of them.
His anger fuelling him and the alcohol stopping him from seeing sense, Laxus took a step forward. Their chests were pushed against each other, faces of anger and hatred mere inches away from touching. Freed didn't back down, just held his eye contact without any sign of waving.
Laxus acted before he could stop himself. He brought his hands up and grabbed a handful of the man's green hair; roughly pushed the man against the wall of the narrow hallways; and, without mercy, slammed their lips together in a vicious, relentless kiss.
Freed kissed back.