Note: Just a reminder… this chapter contains lesson 2. You all know what that means. Proceed accordingly.
He adjusted his laptop once again, trying to angle the screen so that it obtained the maximum balance of light versus glare. Oh he had the brightness settings up high, but he was also attempting to compensate for the rather poor video quality he was receiving. Unfortunately, each time he nudged the screen of his laptop backwards or forwards, protests and quiet nags were called out at him. Whoever decided that embedding the webcam in laptop's monitor was a good idea was an idiot that deserved to be shot. Snorting in frustration, Arthur crossed his arms over his chest.
"I give up! Besides! All you all really need to do is hear me. I don't see why we're bothering with a video chat." He shook his head, resisting the urge to roll his eyes though it was certainly there. Of course, at the moment, he was fairly certain any gesture he made would be lost on those on the other end of this chat.
Displayed quite clearly in the screen was a struggle to claim dominance of the camera on the other end. Ludwig seemed to be winning thus far, his solid frame hunched over, the laptop held in both of his hands as he tried to shield the device and keep it from being knocked to the floor. Lovino, of course, seemed hell bent on stealing the laptop away, distracted in his urgency to talk to Arthur by his insistence that he take center stage for his question. Antonio, well, he seemed more as though he was half trying to sooth Lovino and half wishing for control of the screen as well.
Someone else seemed to be trying to edge into the camera too, and it was this person and Lovino that finally pressed side by side and filled the camera, effectively blocking out Ludwig and Antonio altogether.
"Did you see my brother?" The exclamation came in stereo, one voice loud and angry and demanding, the other quiet yet certainly filled with just as much pent up worry and anxiety as the other's. This seemed to break the tension and the struggle on the other side, and before Arthur could answer he watched as Ludwig finally brought order to the four agents, getting everyone to sit or stand in a manner where all were visible with frightening yelling. Arthur took a deep breath, glad he didn't have to suffer the German's wrath in person.
"No… I made no contact with Alfred, nor with Feliciano. I was unable to meet with any of the hosts this time around." He disliked being the bearer of bad news, disliked watching the way Lovino angrily stormed away for a moment, muttering obscenities in Italian. But he hated far more deeply the look of utter dejection and disappointment that laced across… across… oh come on this was not the time to forget! The sorrow crossed… Matthew's face bitterly. He watched as Matthew's shoulders sagged, and Arthur could almost imagine the young man wanted to revert to his old childhood comfort patterns, hugging that old white bear.
"I'm very sorry," he said, and he meant it. He was worried and disappointed as well, and he could only imagine how the others felt. Antonio's smile was gone and Ludwig… the man looked lost for a moment as he struggled to maintain his composure. As much as he wished to give the team time to accept this information, to cope with this unwelcome news, Arthur firmly believed it best to keep them on task. They'd all been living with the reality of these missing persons for months, much longer in the case of Ludwig and Lovino. Nothing good would come of falling to despair all over again. Focusing back to their mission was for the best.
"The Gallery seems to have quite a few simple precautions set in place when it comes to screening clients for their hosts beyond just the background check and medical clearance." He kept his voice even, professional, speaking slowly to give them all time to come back to their senses. Once he knew they were all paying attention, he continued on to specifics. "They do not allow clients to select a host with pictures, instead having a front man perform an interview of tastes. This man used a rather foolish pseudonym, though I am quite willing to give a description."
Ah, perhaps this video chat could be useful for them. Arthur sat up a bit straighter, then awkwardly hunched down, annoyed at trying to stay in the view of the camera. "Lovino… fancy trying your hand at a police sketch? I know you haven't had your hand in such a thing for years…" The Italian man seemed startled at this request, his face turning red as he glowered at Arthur through the camera.
"I'm not very good at it…" Arthur opened his mouth to chide the other, but the Italian quickly cut him off. "But it'd take too long to get someone else down here so I guess I'll do it for you." Lovino moved away from the webcam, and Arthur was fairly certain he heard a grumbled 'bastard' under the man's breath.
While the Italian was away, Matthew leaned forward, holding his hand up just slightly to gain Arthur's attention. "Were the bugs alright? They didn't detect anything?"
Arthur gave a smile and a nod. "As far as I am aware, they did not detect them at all. I have the clothes set aside very carefully, ready for pickup whenever you feel it would be safe." Matthew gave a return nod, already mentally preparing to go acquire the clothes later that day. They'd go over the recorded incident with a fine toothed comb once they had the bugs in their possession. The interview would be dissected, along with all of the background sounds and events.
Antonio cleared his throat, his smile back in place. He seemed to be diverting his attention between Arthur and Lovino's search for a pencil and paper. "You said the man used a rather foolish pseudonym, what was it? I'll ask around with my contacts, see if anyone recognizes it, see if I can catch anything."
Knowing how vast Antonio's undercover connections reached, Arthur had high hopes for at least someone coming up with something. "Poland." Antonio quirked a brow at him, and Arthur shrugged. "He played it off as an inside joke, and he did tell me to speak to him as just Poland, not as a 'Mr. Poland'."
Antonio gave an easy laugh, shaking his head and shrugging his shoulders. Already he was pulling out a cell phone, a twinkle in his eye as he immediately got to work. As he did so Ludwig leaned forward. His temper had evened, and his stoic face sought some sort of task from Arthur. The green eyed man picked up the documents indicating the account he needed to transfer the payment into by nightfall.
Reading it off, Ludwig took it down and immediately got to work, both conducting the transfer of funds from Gareth's account as well as beginning to run the Gallery's account through their systems. They fully expected that they'd hit a roadblock, run up against apparently legit accounts amidst dummy ones… but it was something. It would all depend on just how clean and precise their account and data management was at the Gallery… and obviously for them to be this slippery, it was formidable.
"Alright asshole…" Lovino shoved his way back into focus of the webcam, glaring at Arthur and brandishing a pencil as if he wanted to stab the paper or the other man. Thus, as most of them began working on their own tasks, Arthur began to give a description of Poland. Lovino's hand worked furiously over the paper as he asked questions of Arthur, insulted his ability to describe a face, and also cursed his own artistic skills. "How's this?" He all but yelled at Arthur after many rounds of working on the sketch. It was certainly no masterpiece of a portrait, but Arthur nodded in approval. Lovino had a good hand at art, despite his protests of being no good, and the sketch rang true.
"Get that image circulating discretely. That's him." Lovino was up and moving, all the agents taking a look at the sketch (Antonio making the Italian blush with his flirtatious praise of the 'art'). As dismal as the call had started out, everyone seemed to be filled with a new hope and determination. After sluggish months on this job, it finally felt as though they had made at least a small breakthrough. Arthur felt a wave of excitement pass through him, though it was tempered with anxiety as well. They had their first break… and with any luck… they'd get another one through his appointment with his mystery host.
x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x
Curled up on his bed, Alfred had been sleeping through most of the day. He'd been woken up here and there by Feliks or Toris or some faceless doctor he hadn't managed to snag a name from. He'd been fed, had his bruises looked after and iced, a small balm rubbed on his skin to help reduce the visible signs of the bruising that was sure to come. Oh he'd still purple up alright, but perhaps he wouldn't look like he'd been tossed into a concrete mixer. Those visits had mostly been a blur, and he could hardly remember anything said to him.
Hardly anything but Felik's so very ominous words. An appointment. With a man. Coming up so very soon. Unprofessional as it was, Alfred had taken to a bit of moping. Drifting in and out of sleep all day, he alternated between resting his aching body, furiously trying to figure out what steps to take next, and well… cursing himself for being such an impulsive idiot. Oh how Arthur would have such a grand time laughing at him for this. The very thing Arthur warned him not to do, go rushing off without fully preparing… look what it'd gotten him? He'd tried to get away from having to entertain a man… but instead of throwing the figurative stick of dynamite, all he'd done was cut the wick shorter before lighting it himself.
At the knock on his door, Alfred rolled over with a groan. He didn't want to see anyone. Not that doctor, not Toris with his strange look underneath his concern, not Feliks to come and tell him he had even more men to please coming up or something. Unprofessional as it was, right now all he wanted to do was turn his head off for a bit. Couldn't he do that? Seemed impossible, and Alfred hated it. In a rejection of the outside world he yanked his blanket up over his head.
He heard the door open and close, his ears straining to pick up the sounds. 'Knowing my luck today, that's one of the bosses, come to tell me they have even more dastardly plans for me!' Imagination running on him a bit, he felt his muscles tensing and relaxing on instinct as his guest made their way to his bed. Hurt as he was, his body prepared for a possible fight on reflex. As much as he was hiding under his covers, every nerve in Alfred's body seemed ready to spring. Thoughts of a gun being pulled on him left him all but ready to tear the blankets down in one swift yank.
It wasn't a gun that came for him, just a soft 'tsk' and a weight on the edge of the bed. Alfred furrowed his brow, as if willing his eyes to see through the sheet, as if waiting for some sixth sense to kick in and tell him who was sitting so close to him. The figure hadn't made any moves to touch him, only made subtle shifts indicating someone making themselves comfortable. Silence played out in the room before Alfred groaned, rolling his eyes and pulling the blanket down just enough for his eyes and nose to peek over it.
"Seriously Francis… not now…" Truth be told, he was a little surprised it'd taken this long for the blond man to come to visit him. For some reason he'd thought Francis would come rushing to his room the minute their boss left. In a way… he'd been disappointed that the older man hadn't… yet on another level he'd been very glad to have the space in which to rest and try to work things over in his head. Even if it'd been useless and frustrating and overall infuriating.
Francis had his legs crossed, arms bracing his body up as he leaned back slightly. The older host cast a look over his shoulder down at Alfred that would have made scolding mothers across the world proud. Alfred had his glasses off so he couldn't see the finest of intricacies in the look, but there seemed to be a definite edge of worry, an almost palpable sense of agitation radiating off of the other man. 'I really… really don't want a lecture right now…' He might have deserved one… but Alfred really didn't want to hear one.
Francis's face was hard and cold as he gazed down at him, lips pulled into the tightest of lines as they pursed and stretched and seemed to strain to hold in whatever rant was hoping to spill forth. When that mouth finally stretched open, Alfred actually tensed. However… no harsh yelling came out, as inside Francis took in a long steadying breath, letting it out in a huff. The glare that was sent his way seemed filled with the venom of words left unsaid. For now. Alfred didn't feel he was in the clear over this.
"Well? Please tell me something good has come of your… 'adventure'… this morning?" Francis arched a brow at Alfred expectantly. Letting out a sigh, Alfred moved to sit up, biting back a wince of pain, because it certainly wouldn't be heroic to look defeated in front of one of the 'damsels in distress' here. The classification of Francis as a damsel actually made him snort out a short laugh, gaining a confused upward twitch of the lips from Francis.
"Well…" Alfred said, leaning forward and looking towards his nightstand for his glasses. Before he could reach for them Francis had picked them up, offering them without a word. Alfred nodded in thanks, grateful he wouldn't have to twist about to reach them. "I… no… not really." Slipping on his glasses, he fixed Francis with a serious stare, a bitter smile playing on his lips. "I did find what may be another captive man… may have stumbled across some other operation going on here maybe… but really my mission this morning was… it was a failure."
Francis tilted his head to the side, curious, and Alfred figured now was a good time to ask about the Asian man he'd come across. "You don't remember hearing about hosts being kept on the fourth floor, do you? Or do you know of an Asian host maybe? Real pretty looking guy… long hair?"
"I… a host? No… I don't seem to recall any Asian hosts…" Francis knit his brows together in thought for a moment, but the shaking of his head was all the answer Alfred needed. He wasn't surprised that the other host didn't know anything about the affairs of the fourth floor. It wasn't as though they were kept in the loop when it came to the Gallery's affairs.
"Don't worry about it. I'll keep looking into him. Him and everything else of course." He hadn't expected Francis to look quite so surprised at those words, and he frowned in his own confusion.
"You're… you're truly going to continue your investigation? After having a direct run in with one of the bosses?" Francis seemed almost incredulous, but Alfred really only heard the other emotion playing through those questions. Hope. It was like Alfred could always sniff out that emotion when others projected it on him. He gave a smart nod of the head, lifting his hand up and curling it into a vigorous fist by his face.
"Of course! I came in here prepared for things to go real bad, you know? I've played it safe, but this was always a possibility from day one. I messed up here, let myself get real lax and sloppy after all this time, but I am a pro! This is what I do, and I'm not gonna stop or give up until I take these guys down! Let 'em punish me a bit, I can handle it! The hero always triumphs in the end!" He flashed a shining smile at Francis, who seemed to lean away a bit in utter disbelief. It wasn't long though before Francis seemed reassured, before the man leaned in closer to Alfred with more of that flirtatious charm the older host always seemed to carry. Soft laughter escaped Francis, his blue eyes warmed considerably as they peered into Alfred's shining set.
"Haha, if I didn't know any better Alfred, I'd begin to think you were a bit of a masochist. So… just what is this punishment they've sentenced you to then?" There was a twinkle in Francis's eyes that showed he had a very good guess. A damn accurate one. Alfred grimaced and gave a nod.
"So umm… you up for another lesson? Cuz it looks like I'm all outta time… got my first man-client coming right up." He was pretty proud of himself for getting through that statement without flipping out. Go him.
Francis ran his fingers through his wavy hair, flicking it over his shoulder as he studied Alfred. "I really don't believe you're in any sort of state for a lesson… and I must confess Alfred, I am disappointed! Ah… I had wanted to make teaching you so very lovely and wonderful; you have ruined my splendid plans for romance! I would have trained and shaped you into the utterly perfect lover… I-"
"Hahaha… h-hey now… let's not get carried away here…" Alfred held his hands up, shaking them vigorously as he tried to stop Francis's monologue about just what sort of ultimate lover he wished to make out of Alfred. Not only was the thought of becoming the world's top male host rather uncomfortable, but Francis's talk about making the lessons 'lovely' and… well… romantic, were making Alfred's face flush red. He seriously didn't want to think about the reason for that. A corner of his mind did wonder if Francis meant it.
Or if something being romantic to Francis meant the same thing that it did to Alfred.
Francis leaned over, reaching out a hand to trail it playfully over Alfred's arm, causing him to drop his hands back down to his sides, fisting his hands into the blanket pooled around his lap. "So? What is it going to be for your first client?"
"Hmm? What do you mean?" Alfred blinked, vacant confusion blanketing his face for a moment. Francis leveled a very knowing look at Alfred, lips quirked just slightly with a leer and a raised eyebrow.
"Bottom or top?" He gestured languidly in the air with his finger, as if toying with and invisible string. Alfred flushed deeper red, body tensing up.
"I don't know!" He looked down, embarrassed, but Francis actually pulled back a touch, seemingly surprised.
"You don't know? How do you not know? Toris is always very good about telling us what to expect… it'd be disastrous if we went in utterly unprepared…" Alfred shrugged, actually growing irate remembering the news.
"Yeah well, it wasn't Toris who told me! Feliks came in himself and told me, all smirky and smug and way too excited! All he did was rush in and poke at my bruises saying 'You've got, like, a gentleman client coming up!' while wiggling his eyebrows up and down just to piss me off I bet!" Alfred was fuming as remembered it, which is why he didn't seem to catch the rather contemplative look that crossed Francis's face.
He was about to rant on when Francis reached out, putting a hand to his shoulder and fixing him with a rather serious gaze. It stilled Alfred's rant, caused his anger to subside just a bit as the look in Francis's eyes seemed to dig into his more rational mind a bit. "Feliks told you? Do you not find that… odd?"
Alfred settled down further, looking away and giving it some thought. "You know… now that I think about it… it always has been Toris who came to tell me and get me." He fixed Francis with a thoughtful glance. "In all your time here…?"
Francis gave a rather elegant shrug of his shoulders. "It has always been Toris." The two blonds stared at each other in silent contemplation, searching each other's eyes and faces as if at any moment one of them would be struck with an epiphany over the matter. Francis's hand reached up absently to rub at the soft stubble on his chin, while Alfred took to chewing at the skin of his lower lip.
"Well… it is possible that not knowing could be part of the punishment… they may not want me to be prepared… and Toris is such a good guy, they might have thought he'd try to give me a hint if he told me…" Alfred's voice didn't seem to hold too much confidence in the theory, though at least his brain was working over the matter properly.
"Hmm… but to send Feliks like that… while I admit Feliks can be a bit… mmm… difficult to manage… he would not have such a good time conveying such vague news. I have never known him to be malicious…" Francis tilted his head to the side slightly, watching as Alfred nodded back.
Suddenly to Alfred's mind, his first male client took on an even more ominous tone, something he hadn't honestly thought was possible. It could perhaps explain some of the strange looks he'd caught in Toris's concern from earlier, and he wondered if he'd be able to glean anything from the other between now and his client. He'd certainly set to mind to try. His upcoming appointment took on strange new dimensions in his head, and though it was a wild fancy perhaps it wasn't unreasonable to think he may not be walking into a night with a client at all. Perhaps they had something darker in store for him.
Francis's words on Feliks's character seemed at odds with that though. Feliks could be aggravating as hell… but Alfred did agree. If the man knew Alfred was going to be put through something terrible, he doubted the man would seem so happy about it. Still… how much did Feliks really know? How much trust did the bosses place in him? Quite a bit considering his job… but how much was told to him on a 'need-to-know' basis? He couldn't recall seeing Feliks interacting with the bosses much… but that didn't necessarily mean anything.
"I'll just have to be prepared for anything. Hopefully Toris will at least give me a heads up when he escorts me to the appointment, if nothing else." His voice was sober, grim, but not at all defeated. Hell, if Alfred wasn't a guy who loved challenges, he wouldn't have gone for this line of work. It was just another obstacle for him to triumph over in his grand adventure to save the day.
Francis was very quiet still, seemingly lost in thought. Alfred couldn't help but smile. He never would have believed it when he first met the other man… but he was turning out to be a devoted ally. He seemed truly committed to helping Alfred… but better yet to the agent's mind… he seemed absolutely devoted to helping the other hosts here. Beneath his perversions Francis was a good man, Alfred could tell. For not the first time he wondered how he ended up here… if there were others out there still looking for him. 'I'm going to save him too though… we're all gonna get out of here.'
Oh yes, part of Alfred knew that was overly optimistic thinking. He wasn't some rookie… it wasn't as though he hadn't been involved in operations that didn't end in rainbows and happy endings. Still, that was Alfred. He'd reach for the stars always, never even considering setting his goals any lower. Clearing his throat to draw Francis out of his brooding, he offered the other a lopsided grin. "So… it's… not ideal and all… but… well… I'd sure as hell rather have my uh… shit, this sounds way too girly."
Francis raised his eyebrows, a tiny bit of laughter lightening his expression again, which helped ease some of Alfred's tensions. He needed anything he could take right now. Between the pain and… and… what he was asking for here… yeah… he needed some happy things to set his mind on. Francis leaned in closer to Alfred, just slightly, almost casually. His eyes swept over the agent, appraising and, once again, containing that fondness that left Alfred feeling confused on so many levels. When Francis spoke, something in his tone, buried inside his voice, made Alfred shiver just slightly. It made him remember their first lesson.
"I'm not so certain Alfred… as much as I'd enjoy ravishing your body… perhaps it would be best not to do anything just yet. Besides… I do not think you would want to be sore for your client, if you know what I mean…" The suggestive nature of Francis's voice was at clear odds with his words about calling this off.
As much as a part of Alfred screamed at him to take this out, to use the excuse Francis had just given him, Alfred held firm. He needed to stick to his guns here… but more than anything, a deep desire possessed him, forcing its way through his lips as he reached out to grasp Francis's shoulder. The other host was clearly shocked by this contact, his face lifting with slight surprise.
"Francis… please." Alfred was impressed with just how firm his voice sounded, and it helped to give him the confidence to confess what was on his mind. "I don't want my first time with a man to… well… just be with some random client. It's… I know it's stupid… but I've known you for a while now… and with you…" He stopped speaking; part of his mind starting to worry just what else might come crawling past his lips if he kept it up. He knew he could say things he wasn't completely sure he should say if his nerves got the best of him. It was probably one of the biggest challenges he'd had to overcome in becoming an agent. Censoring his own mouth was a difficult job.
The older host stared at him in silence, something in his eyes he concealed with a dipping of his gaze and a lowering of his eyelids. Lashes veiled Francis's eyes for a moment, before the man looked back up at Alfred. Humor and affection both sparkled in his eyes. "There is no doubt left in my mind," he laughed softly, reaching up to teasingly tug at Alfred's ear. "You're truly a masochist. Through and through."
Alfred's jaw dropped open in indignation. Still… it seemed as though he was about to get his wish… lesson two. He licked his lips, his heart beating at an erratic rate. Still, something in his stomach seemed to squirm in a manner that wasn't entirely unpleasant. Thoughts of the first lesson again touched his mind, and Alfred started to wonder if it was more than just his nerves accelerating his pulse. It couldn't be… right?
x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x
Rising from his seat beside Alfred on the bed, Francis felt a troubling mixture of emotions brushing along his senses. Worry over Alfred's mission, his health… that was there. Worry that perhaps their one beacon of hope might be extinguished weighed on him heavily. Still, over the worries… there were other emotions, ones Francis had just told himself to be wary of not so long ago. This foolish agent… he was continuing to endear himself to Francis without even trying.
It hadn't been a confession of attraction, that request for Francis to take Alfred's backdoor virginity. Still though… Francis had to wonder if the agent knew just how expressive his eyes were. Had to wonder if he knew that his glasses did nothing to hide those feelings that coursed warm and hot under the surface. 'Perhaps Alfred is blind to it… perhaps to his mind there is nothing there.' The thought shouldn't have upset Francis at all, shouldn't have mattered a bit. Even before becoming a host, Francis had shared a bed with many a man or woman who held no actual emotions towards him.
'Ah yes… that is perhaps the problem…' Alfred did seem to hold him in a high regard… and over the months the agent had been here, Francis knew a bond had been forming between them. Would it become like this then? Should Francis stop this? Could he stop it? It was difficult to tell… but one thing was certain. He would remain faithful in his offer to help prepare Alfred for all aspects of life as a host. No matter if emotions grew between them… Francis would not fail Alfred in this. 'A convenient excuse this has become perhaps.'
He started to walk towards the door of the room, which had Alfred struggling to his feet in a flurry of tangled blankets and confusion.
"Hey wait a minute… are you leaving?" Francis smirked at Alfred, gracing him with a slow wink.
"Only for a moment… unless of course you have the proper items here for our lesson?" He made certain his voice dripped with innuendo, and the way Alfred sank back on the bed was far too charming. It was strange to see such a blend of rabid determination mixed with reluctance. Hearing no further protests, Francis slipped from Alfred's room to his own, slowly collecting just what he'd need to properly 'educate' the agent with. He took his time, trying to center himself, clear his head of certain worries.
'Alfred is determined… his spirit is strong and he does indeed rise well to a challenge… but if I am to truly help him with this… then I must be at my best as well.' He hadn't been kidding when he'd expressed a wish to teach Alfred with a bit of romance. It was a cold cruel thing he was doing if one stripped away the pleasant words and the sentimental trappings. He was teaching Alfred to be a whore… he was teaching Alfred to throw away his inhibitions, to embrace a lifestyle that was condemned and frowned upon. He was tearing down a man… tearing him down for the profit of others.
He'd done it before, and though he could tell himself it was for the best… though he could convince himself during the light of day that without his help many hosts would have perished here in body and mind… in the dark of the night there was nothing to hide the fact that he'd become naught be a tool for the bosses that enslaved them. 'I mustn't think on that now…' He took in a deep breath, face pensive yet eyes steeled. Alfred was a professional… he'd come here prepared for this… there should be no reason for Francis to be hesitating over this at all.
Returning to Alfred's room, Francis had his typical flirtatious smile in place, ever the expert at projecting the air of a lover to others. He noticed Alfred was sitting with his legs over the side of the bed, face focused in a manner that would be far more appropriate before going to visit the dentist for cavities. As Francis moved closer, Alfred looked up, giving a half grin and reaching up to tap his glasses.
"So let me guess… close my eyes again, right?" Francis set down his items, noticing the way Alfred's eyes flicked to stare at them. Stepping into the agent's eye line, Francis reached out, brushing his fingertips along Alfred's jaw lightly to draw his vision up.
"Not this time Alfred…" With a fluid gesture of his hand, Francis guided Alfred's vision towards the floor to ceiling mirror in the room the agent used to dress himself before. Alfred blinked slowly, realization dawning upon him even as Francis whispered out the words to him. "This time… you will watch everything."
The agent worked his jaw for a moment, words no doubt wishing to come out. Francis wondered if Alfred would protest. Despite Alfred's hero complex, he knew that like all men, he wasn't in possession of infinite courage and confidence. He'd learned all too intimately that the younger man could become extremely flustered, and the bruises that littered Alfred's body were a testament to what happened when the agent let his anxieties get the best of him. 'I must make him enjoy this…' Francis banished the thought that he also wanted Alfred to enjoy this. Francis had enjoyed the first lesson in a way he hadn't with the other hosts… a guilty pleasure he knew.
"Ok…" Alfred said, and Francis watched as he took in a deep breath. A calm seemed to pass over Alfred's face, and the eyes that met Francis's almost stole his breath away. There it was… there was the look of the man that could bring down the gallery. There it was again… the blue skies of freedom. These were the eyes that'd first inspired Francis to help Alfred. "I'm ready."
Stepping right before Alfred, Francis reached forward, using both of his hands to cup Alfred's face with a feather light touch. Bending forward as he tilted the other's head back, Francis dropped his voice low, a seductive whisper. "Watch everything I do Alfred… memorize every touch I place upon you, every motion I make…" He brought their lips together, a strange warmth hitting his chest when Alfred didn't flinch away from the contact. Softly, with such devotion it was impossible to believe that there was no love here, Francis kissed Alfred. His lips were slow and gentle, they responded and shaped Alfred's motions, guiding without demanding, teaching without intimidating.
"All that I shall do to you… give yourself to it… and remember. Remember so that when the time comes… you will know what to do." He leaned away just enough so that they could look into each other's eyes. He knew it needed to be impersonal… he knew Alfred needed to be able to do this with anyone… not just him. But the time… they'd been robbed of so much time.
Alfred made no response at first, only clung to Francis with his eyes, only spoke of how much he didn't want to be in this situation with his gaze. Francis watched it all happen though, watched Alfred push such things away, watched him fill his head with his mission and Francis's words. When the agent leaned forward, when he initiated a kiss of his own, Francis knew it was time. Alfred wasn't completely relaxed, but he was prepared for this. He was ready.
x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x
As he felt the hands reach for his clothes, as he felt the soft garments lifting away and leaving him exposed, Alfred let the words repeat in his mind. 'I can save them all, I am a hero. Remember this… I can do this. I can save them all…' The coolness of the air touching his skin brought tiny goose bumps to his flesh, or perhaps it was the ethereal brushes of Francis's fingertips. As he watched the other man undress him, as he moved his body enough for his lower garments to be removed, Alfred tried to fill his center with calm.
"You're doing well Alfred…" Francis's praise was like water to a parched mind, Alfred soaking it up to help ease away his tension. He watched as Francis stepped back just a pace, deftly stripping away his own clothes. It was certainly a sight, and yet Alfred had a feeling that the teasing manner in which Francis stripped was so ingrained he needed to put no effort into making it seem desirable. On one hand it made the agent feel inadequate, and on the other… on the other… he didn't want to think on that. Not right now. Not if he didn't want to become a jumble of nerves again.
Francis moved, coming to kneel behind Alfred on the bed, shifting the agent's body just slightly so that his full form was displayed in the mirror, Francis right behind him. It was nerve racking to suddenly see it… to be brought face to face with the sight of his naked body in the mirror, with the actual vision of himself with another man. He opened his mouth only to have Francis dip his head at that moment, placing a warm kiss to the nape of his neck. Alfred's words were swallowed by a nervous gasp.
"Pretend Alfred… fantasize about a woman if you must… but do not stop watching." More kisses were lavished upon his neck, Francis's hands sweeping and gliding along the planes of Alfred's back as the moist heat peppered his skin with each kiss. "Learn to marry fantasy with reality… turn your eyes to both if it brings your body to passion…" Francis's low voice consumed his attention, Alfred's breath shuddering through his lips with each word.
Light nips were placed to his neck, a devilish tongue dancing out of well practiced lips, making Alfred want to squirm. This was disgusting… it had to be… it just wasn't right. Alfred didn't even realize he'd begun to bite his lip, didn't realize that he wasn't looking in the mirror… that he was frowning, until fingers moved from his back to caress his face.
"Relax Alfred… relax. Remember your first lesson… this is not so different from being with a woman so far, yes? Watch and see it all…" Alfred felt those fingers touch his lips, coaxing his teeth away from the soft skin. Francis met his gaze in the mirror. "Not every client will be willing to wait for you Alfred… not everyone will lavish you and bring your body to passion first… you must not hesitate… embrace what you feel… make yourself feel if you must."
Something in those words made Alfred's heart clench, made a pain pass through him that had nothing to do with his bruises. How could Francis say such words with ease? Did he speak from experience? Did Francis have to force himself each and every time? Had the defensive tricks transformed Francis into who he was now?
Alfred wondered if perhaps his eyes betrayed him, for the soft and caring look that came to Francis's eyes seemed as though they would answer him. A smile, soft and true, not coy, was offered to Alfred, a running of fingers through his hair. "Mind to your lesson Alfred… you can do this."
He needed it. Each and every time Francis expressed his faith in him, Alfred grew stronger. Each time Francis spoke words like that, Alfred could believe it more. It was one thing to always tell himself that he was the hero… to hear it from another… from someone who could sound so very much like he meant it, brought heat to pool in his stomach. The next kiss that touched his skin seemed to tingle as his mind relaxed to Francis's words. He'd been kissed before… his body knew to enjoy it… don't think about gender right now.
It was strange to be left with nothing to do but watch, it was a change to sit and have his body lavished with attention he normally poured upon his lovers or his clients. Yet anytime he tried to move, any time he tried to reciprocate, Francis turned him away, reminding him to watch. The sense of voyeurism filled him and left his face red. With nothing to do elsewise, his eyes began to follow each and every one of Francis's movements. The hands gliding along his body, running over the dips and ridges of his abs, kneading softly at the taut muscles of his pecs. Alfred's breathing began to come in shorter gasps, light pants that reflected the dizzying sensations working over his body and his skin.
It seemed unreal, it was as though this wasn't happening to him and yet it was. That was his face, flushing further as his blood grew hotter. Those were his hands, clenching to the sheets at his sides, his legs quivering as he tried to hold them still. And behind it all… behind every moan inducing touch, every nerve sparking touch, was Francis. As he watched the other take free reign with his body, Alfred began to realize he couldn't turn his gaze from the mirror now even if he'd wished to. He couldn't even think well enough to know he wished for nothing of the sort.
Francis slipped around him, never obscuring his view completely. He left the bed, and Alfred watched him at first with curiosity and then a nervous anticipation as the other man came to rest in a kneel on the floor between his legs. As enthralled as he was in the moment, deeply engrained alarm bells started to ring in his mind, and he scooted back and away on the bed just slightly. "Whoa whoa… hey now… Francis…"
He shivered as the other man caressed his inner thigh; mischievous blue eyes cast in a glance over Francis's sculpted shoulder, once again their eyes meeting in the mirror. Alfred gulped, noting the look on the other's face. It was predatory… it was intense. It… it sparked in Alfred the need to assert himself. The need to take charge of the situation. It fired something primal inside of him.
He reached out, gripping Francis's shoulder firmly, never tearing his eyes away from the mirror. The older man arched a brow, curious enough to allow Alfred this bit of activity. If only Alfred had any idea what he meant to do at this moment. Thoughts started to cloud and crowd his mind, getting hung up again on the fact that he was with a guy… not a woman. Every urge he typically had seemed incompatible right now… and his aggression seemed to falter. Scowling, he released his grasp, watching Francis intently. He'd received a blow job before… but not from a man. He tried to tell himself it'd be no different… and he watched to convince himself he was fine with it.
He nearly shut his eyes when the first flick of the tongue touched him, as that pleasurable hot wetness began to engulf him. He kept them open though, for if nothing else Alfred could meet a challenge. He could keep his eyes open… he could watch all of this. He stared transfixed as he watched Francis move, watched that repeating motion broken only by variations that sent his back arching and his lips darting open. Less and less he needed to 'remind' himself that he could do this. More and more his mind began to crave it to continue.
He caught sight of his expression. Somewhere in his mind, he felt it wasn't enough. The face he showed now… it didn't express enough. His fear that he couldn't convince a man he was into it seemed to surge up. Alfred rose to this new trial, staring at his face, letting the sensations begin to mold and shape it. He told himself it was his awesome acting that started to paint him with passion. As his reflection began to lose its composure, as the figure before him began to be swallowed by the building fire in his belly and loins, his body seemed to come alive to match it. The act swirled and mixed with reality, and sensation stepped forward to be crowned as king.
He didn't cry out loud when he was brought to his release, but his body shivered and everything but the pleasure became extinct around him. Lungs that'd frozen began to drag in deep pulls of air, and Alfred wasn't even certain if it was his own muscles that dropped him to lie back or a gentle nudge from Francis. All he knew was that soon, soon, he was not alone on the bed. Lying right next to him, stroking his fingers over his cheeks, was Francis. Alfred turned his head, dazed and relaxed, coming down from his bliss. Francis sprinkled kisses over his lips, moving to Alfred's ear.
"Tell me you wish it and I will stop here…"
Alfred blinked slowly, staring at the other man with growing emotion in his gut. He pushed it away, he locked it away. A shaking hand was raised, fingers curling before his thumb jutted up towards the sky. "It'll take more than that to do in Alfred F. Jones. Give me your best shot."
He watched Francis cock his head, as if to doubt he could handle it. Alfred wasn't having any of that. There'd be no backing out for either of them now. No way. He flashed the other a smile, reaching over to flick at those wavy blond strands of hair. "Seriously Francis… I can handle this. I'm not gonna break." It was like telling himself that, yet it was finally sinking in. He'd been making this into such a big deal… he had been so stupid about this. "I. Can. Handle. It." He drove the words home for the other man, and at last Francis nodded his head.
The other slipped from the bed, retrieving the items he'd first gathered. Lubrication… a condom… Francis obviously needed no one to teach him what to do here.
"I need you to watch this very carefully Alfred… I need you to feel and understand this. If… if we are unable to have another lesson before your client… if you do not have the chance to reverse the roles before then… you must take with you what you learn now." Alfred nodded his head. He understood.
"So… what do I do?" Francis touched one of Alfred's legs lightly, urging the knee up. Though it was embarrassing, Alfred took the cue, drawing his legs up and exposing himself. Francis reached for a couple of pillows, offering one for Alfred's head, moving the other to rest beneath the small of Alfred's back, lifting his hips a bit higher. Alfred fought his nerves by committing these steps to memory, the blissful haze of his prior climax beginning to fade away. He watched as Francis began to spread that slick fluid over his fingers, watched in anxious fascination knowing full well where they'd be heading.
Francis fixed him with a gaze, stern and unyielding. "Remember Alfred… no client is allowed to bring you great harm. Remember this, and do not be afraid to put an end to things if you're in danger…"
Alfred actually snickered, though the concern Francis had for him was genuinely touching. He offered the other host a lopsided grin. "Trust me Francis… I don't think you have to worry about me not putting a stop to unpleasant man-sex."
Francis regarded him silently for a moment before scoffing and rolling his eyes. "How foolish of me to worry over a fool like you." He shook his head, fixing a glare that held no heat in it on Alfred. "Are you quite finished killing the mood?"
This touch of humor helping Alfred to relax again, he nodded his head. Francis looked purposely at the mirror, and Alfred knew that was his cue to start watching again. Slick fingers were brought down, and he couldn't help but flinch and jolt when his entrance was touched. It was such a foreign feeling he couldn't help himself, could barely fight the urge to slam his legs together and sit up. He furrowed his brows, holding still as he watched Francis's fingers make their way back.
The touch was cold and wet and just as strange as the first contact, but Alfred handled it this time. He stared at the moving digit as if in doing so he had some measure of control over it, as if there was nothing it could possibly do to him if he didn't let it out of his sight. He watched and felt as it smoothed and slicked over him… him… he watched his muscles clench and twitch at the sensations. He held his breath when it became clear it was about to happen… when that first push would be made. 'Here it comes…'
He clenched, he couldn't help it. The sensation felt entirely wrong no matter how skillful and patient Francis was. If not for his sporadically used self control, Alfred certainly would have called it quits here. This was far too uncomfortable! He worked his mouth open and closed as he watched, fighting the urge to say those surrendering words, looking for a distraction of some sort. His heart raced as he watched that finger slide in and out, and he began to match his breathing to it.
'Breathe in… breathe out…' He didn't even realize that Francis began to adjust his pace a bit quicker, paid no attention to the way the other man intentionally brought his breathing faster. As a second finger was cautiously brought in to stretch, as pain started to join simple discomfort, Alfred tried to lose himself in the rhythm and sight before his eyes. This was his body… his body he was seeing. An odd thrill seemed to grip him, and he embraced it, trying to let the situation swallow him. Oh Alfred had a bit of narcissism, but it'd never been like this.
But it wasn't just his own body he was watching, it was Francis as well, Francis with his careful ministrations. Francis whose fingers moved in him with such precision. Francis whose free hand worked his own body to attention. By the time a third finger came into play, by the time that sweet spot was finally touched, Alfred had begun to watch not only what was being done to himself, but Francis as well. He arched his back each time that spot was touched, gasping and shifting on the sheets.
His body felt hot, his nerves were all on fire. He'd already been sated yet now desire rose again in him. It burned away his inhibitions and prejudices slowly; it stripped him bare to a being of want. A being of need. A being of now. He reached to Francis with one hand, trying to urge him on. "Do it…" he rasped out. The other man crept forward, bringing their lips together for a heated dance of tongues. Breathes mingled, and in this kiss Alfred exerted control, in this kiss he dominated and directed them. It was his breaking of the kiss that sent Francis away, it was his press of a hand that guided Francis into position.
There was no asking if Alfred was ready, he didn't want to hear it. He'd at last been gripped by the haze of passion Francis had warned him he needed, and words at this point would be too much. Verbal lessons could only take him so far… what he needed now was to feel it. Experience it.
The pain that shot through him, no matter how slowly and carefully Francis moved, caused him to grind his teeth. Sharp gasps for air scratched through his teeth as he twisted and squirmed slightly, trying to find some relief from this foreign agony shooting up through him, mingling with the bruises of the morning. Petting hands helped to ease some of the shock to his system, but for the pain to subside Alfred knew what he needed to do. He needed to relax… his body needed to adjust. He screwed his eyes shut just for a moment, recalling every trick he'd been taught for taking pain.
He locked his eyes to Francis, the signal to move. A pace was established, the other host never neglecting Alfred's body, not even when that sweet spot was found once more. Every move Francis made seemed tailored for bliss, with great care and precision the older blond had read Alfred's body, had watched until he'd found the spot that was making Alfred's voice curl from his throat, that brought that flush on his face darker and darker. Later… later Alfred would try to make sense of the lesson, embrace everything it entailed. Right now he was lost to the physical.
He hadn't even realized he hadn't thought about a woman once…
x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x
He knew Alfred wasn't asleep. Not only had he not taken terribly long to clean himself up… but even battered as he was, Francis knew Alfred was full of stamina. The younger blond was sprawled on the bed, resting on his stomach with a pillow cuddled close to his chest. His breathing seemed even and calm now… and it almost could have been mistaken as the rhythm of sleep. Almost. Those blue eyes, though the glasses were gone, watched as Francis moved about.
Neither had said a word since their lesson had ended. Francis had cleaned the agent up before attending to himself… doing all he could to ensure the other seemed alright. Aside from being rather quiet… Alfred seemed far from traumatized. He seemed… if anything… contemplative. 'Well… it is not surprising… not even for him.' Deciding to give the younger man his space, Francis began to dress, preparing to leave. He'd not taken three steps towards the door before Alfred's voice captured him.
"Seriously? Man… where's the romance you were talkin' about, huh?" Alfred was smirking at him! "Just gonna sleep with me and run off… your image is ruined Francis… I'll tell the world!" Francis turned to face the imp in the bed, marveling at Alfred's ability to try to make light of just about anything. Such a defense mechanism he had.
When Francis didn't move, Alfred seemed to grow a bit impatient. He patted the side of the bed next to him, fixing a stern look at Francis. "Come on; sit your butt on down here. I think I've earned some sort of reward for this."
Smiling and shaking his head, Francis moved to take his seat as instructed. Alfred did look a bit drowsy, so perhaps he would not be required to do much. Cocking his head to the side, Francis made a questioning gesture with his hand. "And? Just what would you ask of me?"
He hadn't expected the suddenly serious look that passed over Alfred's face, nor did he expect the request that passed through his lips. Quite frankly, it caused a chill to dance over Francis's skin.
"Tell me how they caught you… why are you here?"
A/N:
It is… always a challenge… to not go as graphic with this as I could. I wonder if I won't need to cut it out anyway. We'll see.
Here's a simple question to all you wonderful readers. France's tale of how he came to be a host at the Gallery is coming up next chapter, but he's pretty much the only one who gets his story told in this fic. Would any of you be interested in reading about the tales of some of the other characters prior to this fic's events?
It'd be a separate one shot collection, so you could hear about how Italy and Sweden came to be hosts for example. I could also show a bit more of what the other agents went through before the start of Gallery Nine as well. Just curious if there's an interest, obviously I wouldn't be starting this now since I'm pretty much failing to keep up on my updates as it is.
As always, I adore all the reviews you send me for this fic! I cannot thank you all enough. I may have failed a bit in getting back to everyone's reviews… sorry! I'll do better next time!