Apprehension so thick you could choke on it filled the car the closer they got to Rún. It was all coming from Alfred, but it was still obvious to Feliks and Toris. They were clearly nervous, too, and took their time finding a place to park near the club. All three of them were tense as they left the car and crossed the street; the sun had set, and London's nightlife was rising to replace the daytime's peaceful shopping crowd. These were wilder times and, it seemed, there was more than a little magic drifting around.

Alfred could already feel eyes on him as the three approached a large, old brick building. The entirety of its front face was covered in a thick layer of ivy, so the main entrance, a set of ornate double doors, was almost lost amongst the leaves. Others came and went, pausing at the doors for just a second or two before being allowed inside.

They were looking at him. From the corner of the building, half hidden in leaves and shadow, tucked into the alleyway. Three pairs of eyes watched; he could feel them following his movements and wished that Feliks and Toris were walking at his sides rather than leading the way. Alfred felt vulnerable, and he already wanted to leave. It took everything he had not to cling to the back of Feliks' shirt like a child as they approached the club's front door.

Like everyone else had done, the trio paused under the slight overhang, the ivy so close it brushed their shoulders and pants.

A panel slid open and eyes peered at them through the small opening in the door. "Who goes?"

"A faerie, a nymph, an incubus," Feliks kept his voice smooth as he answered, and the eyes narrowed on the last word.

"Incubus?"

"Yes."

The eyes vanished; they could hear voices muttering, the word "incubus" being passed along like a rare and valuable trinket that everyone wanted to see. It made Alfred want to run. This wasn't going to end well.

Seconds passed, and Alfred had to physically restrain himself from holding onto his friends. Whether it was for his protection or theirs, he wasn't sure. Someone might dislike his presence enough to get aggressive. It had happened before. Alfred could handle his own against most, but Feliks and Toris weren't like him. They didn't like to fight, they were physically smaller than he was, but less likely to be gone after. He was the problem.

"Come right in, sirs."

Alfred almost thought he was hearing things, but the door swung open and he, Feliks, and Toris, were allowed into the club. Together, the three stepped forward. Past the doorframe, the air was sweet and heavy, like the air in the farthest reaches of an ancient forest. It was dark, but a different kind of darkness than the night outside. Tiny lights glowed and glittered near the ceiling like stars, and soft, muffled music reached them from somewhere…deeper.

"This way, please."

The door was shut behind them, and they followed the new stranger down a short hallway. Doors lined both sides, old, heavy carved wood. At the end, another set of double doors awaited them. But their guide stopped at the first door on the left and opened it, motioning them through.

Alfred got a good look at them, now. One side of their head was buzzed, nearly bald, and the other side boasted long hair a thousand shades of blue; it matched eyes that glowed in the dim lighting. They smiled, displaying a set of dazzling, dangerously sharp teeth too long for a human. More like a shark. Fins grew from their ears, framing high cheek bones, and subtle creases on each side of their neck betrayed closed gills.

A siren.

He'd never met one in person before, but turned away to follow Feliks and Toris into the offered room without comment. Candles burned in brackets along the walls, illuminating plush, burgundy velvet couches, a low, beautifully crafted wooden table, and a wardrobe standing at the opposite end of the room. A glass—or crystal?—decanter and four matching glasses on a silver tray sat on the table, offering a drink that looked like wine.

"It's customary that guests shed and change during their visit," their escort explained, passing the trio and moving towards the wardrobe. "There's no reason to hide anything here. It helps everyone to relax." Another smile. "Will you be needing a collar for your pet?" they asked, opening the wardrobe to reveal an assortment of fine fabrics to choose from.

Alfred opened his mouth to ask what that was supposed to mean, but Feliks spoke first.

"No, thank you. The clothes will be fine."

It was always strange to hear the nymph interact with other mythicals. His usual playful demeanor was smothered, and it made Alfred nervous. Like they had to be careful.

The siren nodded. "Once you're ready, go through the double doors at the end of the hall. Your things will still be here whenever you decide to leave. If you need anything, ask the doorman."

"Thank you." Feliks offered a smile, and kept it in place until the siren had gone and the door was shut.

"Did they call me your pet?" Alfred asked the instant his companions relaxed. Haltingly, he pointed over his shoulder at the door, face twisting and untwisting with confusion. "They…have collars…?"

Feliks sighed and shared a look with Toris. "Some old places are like that."

"Incubi are pets?"

"Ah," Toris bobbed his head side-to-side, weighing his words, "that's…a modern way of putting it."

Alfred couldn't believe what he was hearing. A pet? He was a pet? But most mythicals didn't want anything to do with him! How could he be so unwanted and also property? It was…

The American stopped, paling as he looked at his friends. "The 'modern way of putting it.' So, what, a couple hundred years ago, I'd have been a slave?"

"But, like, a really valuable slave. Pampered, and stuff," Feliks tried to make it sound a little less terrible.

"Oh." Alfred ran his tongue over his teeth, his entire body growing tense. "Okay. So, like, a fucking harem or something, right? Spoiled and pampered like a prized animal, so long as I was a good, attentive sex slave for my master, right?"

"Alfred—"

"No," he didn't let Feliks speak, shaking a finger, "see, I'm real fucking curious, Liks. When we met, was that your first thought? That I might be a good pet? A pretty, ignorant, helpless little plaything for you?" His gaze shifted to Toris, including him in the question. "I didn't know shit about what happened to me. I didn't know anything about it. I was over a hundred years old, and didn't know shit. You approached me. Did you think, maybe, you could groom me into being your pet, let me think you were just taking care of me? Helping me?"

"Oh, Alfred, of course not!" the nymph burst out, hurt and bewildered by the accusation. "We did it so that no one else would!"

"Alfred," Toris spoke softly, soothing both blonds, "a long time ago, we were in that place. It's gotten better in recent centuries, but," he glanced at his mate, and Feliks took his hand in silent comfort, "it was really terrible, for a while."

"We didn't want it to happen to you. Do you honestly think we'd do that? Did it seem like we tried at all over the last hundred-odd years?" Feliks asked, clearly still upset. "This is the oldest place we've been to in ages. That you've been to, ever. That's not an accident. We didn't want you to get hurt."

"Then why are we here now?" Alfred demanded plaintively, his voice dangerously close to cracking.

"Because we can't avoid it forever." Toris shrugged one shoulder. "There's not as many of us as there used to be. The old places are the safest. You and Feliks are moderately famous among humans, and other mythicals notice that."

"Couldn't we have talked about that before deciding to come here? You could've warned me. Let me stay at the hotel." Feeling drained now, Alfred sank down onto one of the couches, its softness threatening to envelope him. "I don't want to be here, Tor." He lowered his face into his hands, slumping his shoulders. "I don't want to be in a place where I'm a possession."

"You're not a possession, Al," Feliks assured him, sitting on his left as Toris settled to his right. "You're you, and you don't belong to anyone."

"We can leave, if you want. We already promised we wouldn't make you stay," Toris reminded him.

Both of them leaned into his sides, wrapping him up in warmth and comfort.

"Yeah." He could feel himself relaxing again, safe there with his friends. "But you wanted to check it out. Feliciano and Lovino are waiting for us."

Feliks shrugged then nuzzled the larger blond's shoulder. "I can reschedule."

They were so kind to him. They always had been. And he'd accused them of wanting to use him.

Guilt washed over him, and Alfred sighed. "I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"Yelling. Thinking you only came up to me 'cause you wanted a pet. Neither of you would ever do that. You're my best friends."

"Apology accepted." Feliks smiled, acting more like his usual self.

"Do you want to leave?" Toris glanced around the room as if checking for a clock. "We can go back to the hotel and watch a movie."

"With popcorn!" Feliks chimed in. "And ice cream!"

They both smiled at him, and Alfred had to admit it was a tempting option. And yet, now that he was more relaxed, and knew the situation, and that he was safe with his friends, he was curious. He'd never been anywhere like Rún before. Already, he'd seen a siren, a creature he'd never met. This place was old, and he didn't like the way he'd be thought of here, but he supposed it was a step up from not being allowed in at all.

"Actually," he spoke after several long moments of thoughtful silence, "I think I'd be okay with staying. For a little bit. Just to check it out."

The blond at his side made no move to pull away from him. "You sure? We totally don't have to."

"It took us decades to be okay with places like this," Toris added. "You don't have to stay if you're not ready."

"We totally understand. It's, like the shittiest situation to deal with."

Alfred actually smiled, finally leaning back into the couch and uncovering his face. "You guys are the best." They smiled and squeezed him affectionately. "But, yeah, we can stay for a bit. What's the worst that could happen?"

"Someone could try to buy you," Feliks joked, rising to his feet and moving towards the wardrobe now that it was confirmed they would be staying.

"No one in this place could afford me."

"I dunno," the nymph was rifling through the wardrobe's contents, "this is a super old, intensely magical place. There's bound to be some real powerful, unbelievably wealthy creatures hanging around."

"Probably, but I don't think you'd ever sell me off. Who could possibly replace me as your Ken Doll?"

"Mm." He'd chosen several items now. "I'm sure someone would offer me enough money for a prize like you. The real problem is Arthur." Turning, his arms full, Feliks smirked at his friend. "How would I ever explain that I sold his immortal sex demon boyfriend to some ancient creature in a magical nightclub?"

Alfred was grinning now, totally relaxed by the typical banter. "I don't think he'd take it very well."

"And I'm such a sap, I'd never be able to get in the way of true love like that."

Toris held back a laugh.

"Guess you're stuck with me."

Feliks put on an exaggerated expression of dismay. "Oh, hell. But I'm, like, getting so tired of having you around. I don't know how much more I can take. With all the threesomes and the sexy motorcycle and all—I'm just exhausted."

"Yeah, I can tell that the frequent orgasms are really troublesome."

Carefully, Feliks began laying out the clothes he'd chosen on the other couch. "They are! What with the extended foreplay and how thorough you are—especially when you're hungry—I'm worn out."

"Maybe you're just getting old."

With a gasp, Feliks whirled around to face the other two males, a hand dramatically held to his chest. "Old?"

Alfred just grinned, and Toris shook his head.

"You're not getting old, Fe," the brunet comforted.

"Thank you, Toris," the nymph responded pointedly.

"You don't look a day over nine-hundred-and-fifty," Toris finished with a completely straight face, and Alfred snorted back a laugh even as Feliks huffed and turned away again.

"I can't believe I put up with either of you. You're both lucky I'll even help you get changed." Turning again, the blond put his hands on his hips. "You first, Incubutt. Strip and switch."

Alfred rolled his eyes, but did as his bossy friend said and rose to his feet, pulling his shirt off over his head. "Sometimes you sure act like you own me." The shirt was dropped on the couch and he began on his belt.

"You wouldn't know what to do with yourself if I didn't."

"I'm pretty sure I'd just work on bikes and cars and not have to get up insanely early for another surprise photoshoot ever again in my unending life."

Feliks hummed noncommittally and finished organizing the clothes he'd chosen for them. "Drop your skin and get dressed. I'm going to go ask for that collar."

"Collar?" The word brought Alfred up short. "Why?"

"Because you're safer if everyone thinks you're ours than if they think you're up for grabs."

"Oh." He wasn't entirely sure how he felt about that. He'd never worn a collar—outside of sex—before. "Okay."

"Don't worry," Feliks had a sly grin, and his tone was more teasing than comforting, "I won't put anything ugly on you. Have to keep my Ken Doll looking his best!" Then the nymph was gone, out the door into the hall to see about getting a collar.

Alfred watched the door shut behind him then sighed. "Is this a good idea?" he asked, looking at Toris as the brunet began his own process of undressing.

"Staying?"

The blond nodded.

Toris considered the question as he folded his clothes and stacked them neatly on the couch. "I'm not sure. It will probably be fine. You'll be with us the entire time, and we'll be with the Vargas'; I doubt anyone will try to give us trouble. It would be rude, I think. The collar will tell anyone who notices you that you're spoken for—by Arthur, if not by us—and that should be enough. On the off-chance that someone does cross the line, we'll take that as our cue to leave."

"Yeah, okay." Alfred didn't sound as confident as he would have liked, but the mention of Arthur helped. He'd already had the thought of letting the smaller man collar him, so if he kept that in mind, he could get through this. Who knew, maybe he'd send Arthur a picture just to see what he thought of it.

"Okay," Feliks slipped back in and shut the door with a snap, "they gave me like twenty to choose from, so I grabbed these, which one do you like?" He held out five borrowed collars for Alfred to see, and the American paused in his examination of the clothes to look them over.

They were all made of thick leather a couple of inches wide, definitely real, and lined with a soft padding around the inside so that they wouldn't chafe. Each had a silver ring attached to the front, obviously meant for a leash. The only real difference were the colors. Feliks had made sure to grab a dark red, a white, a blue, a black, and a black with small spikes on it. At least he'd forgone anything too gaudy or ostentatious, which Alfred had no doubt was a struggle for the flamboyant blond, and had remembered to limit himself to Alfred's favorite colors.

"I think the plain black one. I'm not really looking to draw attention."

"You want people to notice the collar," Feliks pointed out, a bit absently, his attention shifting to where his lover was standing naked near the other couch, "so that no one thinks you're available."

"The spikes, then."

Feliks handed him the chosen collar, gave Toris one last lingering look, then left again to return the other collars he'd brought. Alfred sighed and fastened the thick strap around his neck, careful not to buckle it too tightly. It was snug, but the lining was comfortable, so at least it wouldn't irritate him.

While Toris was busy dressing in what Feliks had chosen for him, Alfred picked up his discarded jeans and fished in the back pockets for his phone. He turned, backing up towards the wall and standing near one of the candle brackets for dramatic lighting, smirked, and took a picture of himself. His face and neck—plus collar—were clearly visible, as well as his shoulders, and his collarbone sat just above where the picture cut off at the bottom. His eyes looked darker than normal thanks to the lighting, and the unfamiliar surroundings gave it an air of mystery that he knew would throw Arthur off. The Brit wouldn't know what to make of it.

His smirk grew into a grin as Alfred sent the picture to his absent boyfriend, and he tossed his phone back towards his clothes just as Feliks came in again.

"Why are you still naked, and human?" the nymph demanded, already stripping as he crossed the room.

"He's sending pictures to Arthur," Toris answered, and Alfred tried not to look sheepish as Feliks snorted.

"Wow, Incubutt. Guess you actually like the collar."

Alfred shrugged and finally set about getting dressed in his borrowed clothes. "Eh, it's all right. Definitely better quality than some I've worn before. Are there underwear?" He looked around the floor, thinking maybe he'd dropped them.

"Nope." Feliks was already naked and starting to glow as he shed his human disguise. "That would be nasty, and you have a tail, anyway. No undies."

Humming his distaste, Alfred tightened the sash around his waist, not sure how he felt about this. Feliks had only given him what amounted to a thick toga that stopped a few inches above his knees, and only partially covered his chest where it fastened over his left shoulder. "I don't get a shirt, either?"

"Wings," the nymph reminded him, "you and Toris have to keep your backs bare."

The faerie in question was already dressed in his own toga and had fully revealed his true form, his blue glow and iridescent wings strange and somehow even more inhuman in the glow of the candles. Feliks, on the other hand, fit in perfectly, the gold shimmer of his skin dancing as he moved; even the candles themselves seemed livelier than before. They both looked ancient and beautiful, adorned in the thick, expensive cloth wrapped and tied around their bodies, draping just so. It was a look much better suited for centuries ago in a far away land, not modern London, and Alfred knew he wouldn't look the same. As much as a chance to stretch his wings tempted him, he was reluctant.

"Do I have to?" he asked quietly once both his companions had dressed and were busy tightening the straps of the sandals they'd been given; Alfred thought they looked like the belonged in a gladiator movie, but their garments were far too high quality. It was as if they were royalty and had stepped forward in time.

"Yep, no human disguises allowed." Feliks adjusted his himation—a rich, heavy garment that wrapped around his body in elegant layers—and finger-combed his hair. "You heard the siren."

Alfred sighed and sagged slightly, accepting his fate, then hunched his shoulders and took a deep breath. He shuddered, groaning quietly as his body changed. It wasn't painful, exactly, but the pressure of his extra appendages growing so rapidly wasn't comfortable, either.

He ran his tongue over his fangs and stretched his wings, tail easily finding and escaping through a hole sewn at the back of his toga. That, at least, would be comfortable.

Feliks and Toris waited as he laced up his own sandals—whoever owned this place was definitely Greek or Roman or something—and then incubus and faerie waited as the nymph gave them one last check.

"Well, you both look ancient and powerful." Feliks smiled his sharp, pointed smile, then moved to stand at Alfred's right side and took his hand in a possessive, comforting way; Toris did the same at his left. "Ready?"

"Do I have to call you 'Master?'" Alfred asked, looking from one to the other, and Feliks giggled.

"I won't complain if you do."

Toris fluttered his wings in barely-controlled interest. "That could be fun."

Alfred rolled his eyes, but he was grinning, and he could smell that both of his companions were enjoying their state and attire. "Feeding time when we get back to the hotel?"

"Are you hungry?" There was a knowing glint in Feliks' angular green eyes.

"I will be by then."

"Then behave while we're here, pet," the blond purred, making Alfred want to growl, "and we'll have a feast later."

"Deal." Alfred's voice was low and husky as he said it, his appetite already waking up to the promised meal.

"Shall we?" Toris reached for the door handle, paused until both blonds nodded, then opened the door and lead the way out into the hall. Together, with Alfred safely claimed in the middle, the three approached the double doors that hid Rún's inner depths.