Chapter 77

Childhood Bedroom

.

At the Justine mansion, the late afternoon sun streamed through the tall windows of the gaming room, casting a golden glow over the polished surface of a pool table where Laxus played solo. The sharp clack of the cue ball echoed in the otherwise quiet room as he sunk another shot, though his mind was not entirely on the game. Freed had been in a meeting with the family lawyer for hours.

Finally, the door creaked open, and Freed stepped in. His usual poise had been replaced by visible exhaustion. He leaned against the door frame for a moment, as if the weight of the day threatened to topple him.

Laxus immediately abandoned his game and crossed the room in a few long strides. "Hey, sit down before you fall down," he said, gently guiding Freed to a nearby leather armchair. "I'll get you a drink. Water or something stronger?"

"Make it a bourbon," Freed murmured, sinking into the chair with a sigh. Laxus went to a small bar in the corner with bottles of many types of alcohol, poured a tumbler glass of bourbon, and returned quickly. Freed gratefully accepted it and took a sip, smiling at the sweet, fiery taste.

"How'd it go?" Laxus asked, crouching in front of him, his hands resting on Freed's knees as if to anchor him.

Freed exhaled deeply, took another sip, and set the glass on a nearby table. "We worked out some of the legalities. I signed a mountain of paperwork." He gestured vaguely to the room, his expression somewhere between disbelief and resignation. "This is all mine now. The house, the estate, everything."

"Congrats," Laxus chuckled, though he could tell Freed was still grappling with the reality of it all.

Freed gave a faint smile. "I know this was the plan all along, but making it official feels… surreal. I keep thinking someone's going to say, 'Just kidding, gotcha good.'"

"And moving in?" Laxus asked, shifting to sit on the armrest of Freed's chair.

"The lawyer assured me that my father can't enforce any sort of residence requirement. Father didn't want to, anyway. The house is in my name, but I can live wherever I want." Freed's gaze softened as he looked at Laxus. "So we can stay in the condo."

Laxus grinned and patted Freed's shoulder. "That's great news." He added with a smirk, "Not that I don't enjoy hanging out in a mansion, but I like our place. Less people around, so I can have you naked all night long."

Freed laughed in exhaustion, too tired to even scold him. "Still," he said, his voice turning thoughtful, "it might be easier to stay here for a while, at least as we figure out the details. Father's coming back in a couple of days to finalize the paperwork, so we'll need to stay at least that long. I'd rather not bring lawyers into our condo."

"Hell no!" Laxus snapped. "Besides, I didn't know y'all had a pool table. Been ages since I played."

Freed blinked in surprise. "I never showed you this room?"

"Bickslow took me to a gaming room upstairs when we were at the garden party, but it was mostly Legos and gaming consoles. Have you really got two gaming rooms?"

"One was for us kids with video games and snacks, one was for adults with pool and a bar." Freed muttered in shame, "Did I really never show you around?"

"Well, we were busy exploring a different room," Laxus said with a low chuckle, his mind on the sex dungeon somewhere under their feet. "We've never stayed long enough to look around. Gotta admit, it might be nice to see the place."

Freed's face lit up despite his fatigue. "Then it's settled! We'll stay for the weekend, and I'll give you the grand tour. It's ours now, so you deserve to see the whole place."

Laxus chuckled, feeling awkward how Freed said it was theirs, not just his. He thought about bringing it up, teasing Freed, but truly, he looked ready to pass out.

"Sightseeing can wait. Let's get you to bed."

Freed stifled a yawn, proving Laxus' point. "Honestly, I'm barely keeping my eyes open. I'll tell Bas to prepare a room for us."

Laxus leaned down, brushing a kiss against Freed's forehead. "Good. We'll have a small dinner, go to bed early, and tomorrow you can show me all the corners of your new kingdom."

Freed smiled, his eyes fluttering closed as he sank deeper into the chair, the warmth of Laxus' presence grounding him. For the first time that day, he felt like he could finally relax.

# # #

They ended up sleeping solidly through the late afternoon, evening, and into the wee hours of the night as jet lag and a sex-fueled vacation caught up with them. They woke up with the sky dark and the clock saying it was three in the morning.

"Gonna take us forever to adjust," Laxus moaned.

They ate a little from the kitchen and went back to the bedroom so they would not wake anyone else. Instead, they took a long, much-needed bath and cuddled peacefully while watching television in the bedroom. Once the sky began to lighten, they decided to get a start on the tour.

Laxus followed Freed through the opulent corridors of the Justine estate, from entrance on through the foyer. He took in every extravagant detail of this entranceway with a growing sense of awe. The floors were polished wood that gleamed under the soft glow of antique chandeliers. An intricately woven rug stretched down the foyer, its patterns rich with dark red, midnight blue, and striking gold. The occasional oil painting decorated the cream and sage foyer walls.

Laxus already knew the dining hall where they had Christmas dinner last year. Was it really almost a year ago? Seeing it now, without all the holiday trimmings, revealed just how stately it truly was. Long oak tables gleamed under brass chandeliers, and fine art hung on the walls.

They moved on to the kitchen, which was less a kitchen and more like a high-end culinary laboratory. Stainless steel counters gleamed under pendant lights, and an industrial-grade stove dominated one wall. Rows of copper pots hung above a massive butcher block island, while shelves were meticulously arranged with spices Freed's chef insisted came from all corners of the globe.

He had already discovered the adult gaming room with the pool table. To the side were a few round tables for card and board games and velvet armchairs to simply sit and sip some wine or brandy. Polished liquor bottles glinted on shelves of a built-in full bar.

There was a music room with a grand piano gleaming in shafts of sunlight, stands that held various stringed and brass instruments, and a trumpet up on the wall below a black and white picture of a man who surely used to play it. Laxus even saw some studio equipment. Was someone in the family particularly musical?

Room by room, they explored. Laxus peered through open doors into libraries with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, a workout room filled with equipment—Laxus grinned at the idea of having his own gym—and a sparring hall that Freed had used for fencing and Evergreen used for martial arts.

He was starting to get dizzy trying to remember which room was which.

"There's a drawing room and a parlor?" he asked in disbelief. "What's even the difference?"

Freed smiled patiently. "The drawing room is for formal guests; the parlor is more casual."

"Oh God," Laxus groaned, rubbing his temples. "Is this like the multiple forks thing?"

"Just leave all that to me," Freed said with a reassuring pat on his arm.

As they headed upstairs, Freed provided tidbits of history about the estate. Laxus knew that there was no way he could remember where everything was, let alone who the painters of the artworks were, but he could not help being impressed.

Was it ridiculous to him that a single family could own a house so massive? Yes.

Was he impressed that the Justines went out of their way to fill the house with paintings and sculptures by local artists, as well as donating heavily to the arts? Definitely.

They eventually reached a large alcove that opened up to a balcony facing the back gardens that sprawled like a massive park over the darkened estate grounds. They stepped out for a moment to enjoy the fresh air and sunrise, although clouds overhead looked like they might pour rain at any minute.

Laxus' attention was drawn to a massive building in the distance. Its sturdy bricks and symmetrical architecture stood out against the backdrop of manicured lawns.

"Hey," Laxus said, gesturing toward the structure. "What's that huge building? An office? Looks like one of those old-timey schools."

Freed glanced over and smiled. "That's the servant's quarters."

Laxus blinked, taken aback. "The servant's quarters?" he repeated in disbelief.

"Well, that's just what its called." He scratched the back of his neck. "I guess it sounds a little weird."

The red brick and white column building was large enough to house dozens of people comfortably. Having someone come in once in a while to tidy things up was one thing, and Laxus could see the need with a house so massive. The idea that these people were living right in their own backyard felt bizarre to him.

Then again, he had lived in an apartment near the South Pole Club back when he worked there since it was convenient and cheap. How was this any different?

Hesitantly, Laxus asked, "Just how many servants do you have? Do they all live here?"

"Not all," Freed explained. "Some of them only come in once or twice a week, like the gardeners. But the full-time staff have rooms there. We don't charge rent, but things like phone bills and groceries are up to them."

"So free place to live and you get a view like this? Damn. Sweet deal. Still so weird," Laxus muttered.

Freed's expression softened. "I suppose it is. It's what I grew up with, but I understand why it might feel strange to most people."

Laxus' eyes narrowed thoughtfully at the imposing structure. "If they all sleep out there…" He turned suddenly, pressing Freed up against the wall with a sly grin. "Does that mean we're all alone right now?"

Freed chuckled and gently pushed Laxus away. "Bas will be up at any moment. Let's keep going."

They turned down a hall. "This is the children's hall, or at least where we spent most of our time. We have a study room, where we got tutored."

"Didn't you go to school?"

"Yeah, but… tutors help, you know. In there is our old playroom; we now use it when guests bring their kids. And you've been in the gaming room."

They entered anyway, a sleek space with curved leather couches and wall-sized screens set up for Bickslow's favorite games. LED lights glowed softly around the edges, casting a futuristic vibe. Laxus had to admit, the whole room was bad-ass!

Laxus chuckled. "I bet Bickslow spent his whole childhood in here."

"You have no idea," Freed sighed, rolling his eyes, yet he had a fond smile for his little brother.

They went further down.

"That's Bickslow's bedroom, and across the way is where Ever sleeps," Freed pointed out, not opening those rooms but continuing straight down the hallway. "And this…" He paused outside a door. "This… was my room."

"I thought the room where we slept last night was your room."

"No, that's one of the guest bedrooms that had a bed big enough for two. I slept here until I went off to university. It's still exactly how I left it." He looked up at Laxus with a nervous smile and whispered, "Don't laugh."

Then he opened the door. Laxus stepped in, wondering just what sort of embarrassing teenage stuff would be in Freed's old bedroom: maybe cringey posters of boy bands, sexy anime characters, or even stuffed animals and action figures.

Instead, it was sleek, orderly, and almost intimidating in its neatness. The walls were painted a deep, cool green, accented by dark wooden furniture. A massive window took up most of one wall. Freed pulled back the heavy, dark curtains, revealing a view of the estate's sprawling grounds.

Everything had a place. The bed, a large, black-framed thing with perfectly pressed sheets, was tucked into the far corner. A single, deep green throw blanket was folded at the foot, not a wrinkle in sight. The nightstand held nothing but a sleek, black alarm clock and a leather-bound book, perfectly aligned with the edge. No clutter, no mess—everything about this room screamed precision.

A floor-to-ceiling bookshelf lined nearly an entire wall, each shelf meticulously arranged, the spines of the books almost too perfectly aligned. Laxus stepped closer, running his fingers over leather-bound tomes and hardcovers. Titles on sword fighting techniques, medieval warfare, and ancient battle tactics stood alongside thick fantasy novels, their gilded lettering glinting in the light. Some looked well-worn, pages softened from being read and re-read, while others were pristine, like trophies displayed in perfect order.

He glanced at the worn books: The Three Musketeers, The Scarlet Pimpernel, Cyrano de Bergerac, The Princess Bride…

"I sense a theme," Laxus chuckled, browsing the titles.

Freed awkwardly admitted, "I was really into swordfighting."

"Was? I'm pretty sure you still are," Laxus teased him.

By the window was a plush bench. Laxus could imagine Freed curled up on this bench, a cup of tea on the low oak table beside it, feet tucked in, as he read his books and dreamed of far off places.

His gaze drifted to the opposite side of the room, and a slow smirk curled his lips. On all the wall hung beautiful fantasy swords—not the cheap ones Laxus had seen at the mall, but swords of fine craftsmanship that looked sharp enough to slay a dragon. Freed never did things halfway. If he had swords, Laxus was willing to bet he knew how to use every single one of them.

Beside the sword display was a trophy case displaying all the awards Freed had won over the years, from martial arts to fencing. Inside the case was a large picture of a group all dressed in bulky white outfits. As Laxus scanned the photo, it was easy to pick out Freed. His hair was just starting to get a bit lanky, not even down to his shoulders yet, but he still looked the same.

"My old fencing team from high school," Freed admitted. "We won Regionals that year."

"You should get back into it," Laxus said, letting his eyes drift past other photos. "I liked watching you fight. It was sexy."

"Well, that was my university team. Maybe I'll reach out to see, see about joining a local club."

Finally, he came to a desk, a high-end computer setup, neatly arranged with an almost military-level tidiness. A mechanical keyboard, a high-backed ergonomic chair, a light ring, a camera setup, and not a single loose wire in sight. Laxus huffed—of course Freed's desk was this spotless.

Laxus leaned against the desk, folding his arms as he surveyed the room with a smirk. He felt disappointed that there was nothing humiliating. Even as a kid, Freed must have been obsessively neat.

"Yep," he muttered to himself. "This is definitely your room."

Freed muttered, "I know it's a bit childish…"

"Are you kidding? This room is awesome. I've lived in apartments smaller than this. So, are you gonna move a bigger bed in here?"

Freed laughed and assured, "No, like I said, this is the children's quarters. That's why the playroom and gaming room are up here."

"Your parents shoved you guys into your own hallway? Where was their room?"

"Other side of the wing, but this way they weren't disturbed by a bunch of screaming brats, and probably saved us from having to overhear our parents in bed." Freed sneered and grumbled. "Having heard stories from guys in college about overhearing their parents late at night, I think I got spared a lot of trauma." He shoved that thought away. "Eventually everything will be set up so I'll have the master bedroom." He bit his lip and mumbled, "You'll love the shower in that room."

"Fuck that room. That's your dad's room."

"And his father before him. It's part of the inheritance. It'll be a new mattress, so you don't have to worry about feeling weird for making love in my parents' old bed." He laughed awkwardly. "Although, it'll feel weird for a while."

Laxus began to stalk closer to Freed with his chin tilted down and his eyes predatory. "What I really want is to fuck you right here."

"Wh-What?" Freed gasped. He began to back away, and Laxus followed. His back hit the wall, halting his retreat.

The massive blond caged him in with a smirk, one hand pressed flat against the wall beside Freed's head. "I bet this is the room where you lost your innocence."

Freed jolted, and his face contorted in shock and outrage. "No! I never had sex in this room." His blush deepened as he glanced away. "My first time was with you, remember?"

"Oh trust me, I remember!" Laxus purred. He leaned down until his breath teased Freed's ear as he sang in a whisper, "In a gadda da vida, honey, don't you know that I love you."

Freed squeezed his eyes shut and groaned in utter mortification. His skin practically burned at the vivid memory. It was coming up, his one-year anniversary of losing his virginity to that song.

"But I bet this is the room where you jerked off for the very first time," Laxus went on, his voice dripping with suggestive intent. "Or was it somewhere else? Do you remember that day?"

Freed laughed awkwardly, still unable to open his eyes or even raise his head. "How could I? Like any boy, I was probably touching down there since I was three."

"Yeah, but back then you're a kid and don't know better. Big difference between just touching 'cuz your body is weird and making yourself come because you like it."

Laxus paused, the predatory glint wavering as his eyes suddenly dimmed. His pupils narrowed as a shadow crossed his face, a flicker of something cold and grim in the depths of his memory.

Freed squirmed and whimpered, pulling Laxus away from that dark thought. The shift was so instantaneous, Freed had seen none of it. Laxus' smile returned as he loomed closer, fully reclaiming the role of dominant.

"There comes a day, you start rubbing," he whispered, grinding his hips up against Freed's. "And you don't just think, 'This feels nice.' No, you enjoy it! You reeeeeally enjoy it, and all you want is more and more, faster and fast, until… bam!"

He slammed the wall with his palm, making Freed let out a startled, high-pitched squawk.

"Puberty spurts right out of you," Laxus declared triumphantly, his grin wide at how he could control Freed's reactions. "Nothing's quite the same after the day you realize you can pleasure yourself. So what was it? Lemme guess: late night jerking to gay fanfiction. Or maybe one of these romance books ya got is actually super naughty."

"N-No," Freed mumbled, turning bright red.

"But it was in this room, right?"

Freed slammed his eyes shut and whimpered in humiliation.

Laxus loved it, savoring every bit of Freed's embarrassment. That adorably flushed face was addictive. He just had to rile him up some more.

Laxus stepped away, and Freed bolted like a cat out of a pet carrier. The blond smirked as Freed rushed to his desk chair, practically collapsing into it with breathless relief. Freed clutched the armrests like they were his last defense against further embarrassment, cheeks flushed to a dangerous shade of red.

Meanwhile, Laxus prowled toward the bedroom door and casually flipped the lock with a soft click that echoed ominously in the quiet room.

Freed's head snapped up. "Wait, what are you doing?"

Laxus folded his arms, leaning casually against the door frame, completely blocking Freed's escape. His gaze burned with wicked curiosity.

"Tell me," he said, lips curling into a slow grin. "What did you use? Just your hand, or something else?"

Freed shuddered under the weight of that dominant stare, a mixture of vulnerability and thrill tightening his chest. "N-No! Laxus, stop," he groaned weakly, pressing further back into the chair as if it could swallow him whole.

The teasing edge on Laxus' smile wavered for a moment, replaced by genuine concern. He took a step closer to the desk."Was it… bad?" he asked carefully, his voice low and tinged with worry.

Freed groaned, cringing as heat flushed his entire face. "Not… bad," he admitted reluctantly. "Just really embarrassing."

Laxus' grin returned with renewed fervor. "Ooh?" His eyes gleamed with delight, his curiosity piqued beyond measure. "Now I have to know. Spill it!"

Freed's lips clamped shut, a final defense against humiliation, as though sheer willpower could end the interrogation.

"Come on, Greenie," he coaxed with a devilish whisper as he prowled closer. He leaned down, dragging a single finger along Freed's arm, slow and teasing, yet that alone felt like fire to Freed. "You know I'll get it out of you eventually."

Freed's shudder made Laxus grin wider. He leaned close enough for his breath to graze Freed's ear.

"I can torture you until you confess every last sin," he whispered in a low voice, dark with fiendish promises.

Freed trembled but still shook his head vehemently.

Laxus thought about following through with the threat, but this bedroom was a bad place for that, plus Freed had said the servants would be waking up soon.

Laxus decided to pull back, reigning in his temptation. He considered a different approach. Maybe he could coax it out of Freed another way—by offering something first.

"Wanna know what my big self-discovery moment was?"

Freed peeked his eyes open. "Online porn?"

"Nah. Matrix Reloaded."

Freed's mouth dropped. "What? You mean that scene?" he asked, thinking about yesterday's car ride.

Laxus hummed and nodded. "The first time I saw that movie, I was thirteen. I'd hit puberty a bit late the previous year."

"I can hardly believe that you, of all people, hit puberty late."

"Fuck you, I—" Laxus looked like he was about to say something in anger, but he held back the words. Freed was just teasing him, after all. "Anyway, I had never seen anything even remotely close to porn in my life. Barely even knew what sex was, beyond textbook explanations. Real sheltered, y'know. My grandfather had gotten me the box set of Matrix DVDs for Hanukkah without having watched anything more than the first movie, and obviously without having looked at what rating it was. I started watching the movies with my mom. When that scene came up, she covered my eyes, so of course I wanted to know what was happening."

"Curious Baby Laxus," Freed teased.

Laxus flipped him a middle finger and smirked before continuing. "I waited until she was asleep, pulled the movie out, and watched it with headphones on. There was just something about all those grinding bodies. I'd never seen anything like it, barely knew what any of it was implying, but I felt a tingle down there. Then the scene was over, but I wanted to keep watching. I was hooked.

"Like I said, I already had a textbook understanding of sex ed, so I figured out pretty quickly what Neo and Trinity were up to. I didn't care about that part—to this day, plain vanilla porn doesn't do it for me. Nah, it was the sweaty, filthy crowd that got to me, and I couldn't figure out why. I played it over and over again, trying to figure out why my dick was getting hard and what what I supposed to do with it."

"Are you serious?" Freed laughed, hardly able to believe it. "You were thirteen and you didn't even know jerking off? Like, at all?"

"Hey, like I said, I was sheltered, and… well, let's just say I didn't like the idea of touching there," he grumbled. "Instead, I grabbed a pillow and started acting along with the dancers. I held the pillow in front of me and rubbed my crotch up against it, just like how those people were grinding into one another. It felt so damn good. I played it again and again, driving my dick into that pillow, staring at the sweaty bodies, imagined myself with someone like that, pressed up tight against them, rubbing against some hot chick's ass, rewinding, playing more, humping the fuck out of that pillow, until finally… well, you can guess."

"All over the pillow, huh?" Freed asked with a smirk.

"Fuck that, I was still in my clothes!"

Freed burst out in a laugh. "You came in your pants? God, I should never feel humiliated about that again."

"I was fuckin' thirteen!" Laxus snapped. "But yeah, I knew that stuff was cum. I just hadn't learned that this was one way how you got your dick to do that."

Laxus scowled again, something dark in his eyes, but Freed was too busy laughing. Laxus shot a glare at him, but his face softened at seeing Freed's smile.

"Anyway," he said, shoving down the darkness. "For the next few months, that was my go-to scene when I needed to rub one out real fast, until I discovered online porn sites had BDSM. Now, that changed everything for me as a teen."

Freed's laugh finally began to die down, leaving his cheeks flushed. "It feels weird, hearing about you as a horny kid."

"Yet you're getting hard, pervert," he whispered slyly. "So, your turn now. When was the first time you touched yourself until cum shot out?"

Freed fidgeted. "Eleven? No, definitely younger the first time. I'm not sure. Maybe nine?"

"Shit! That young, huh?"

"Well, I mean, does it really count at that age? You barely know what you're doing."

"So, how was it?"

Freed laughed nervously. "It scared the hell out of me. I thought I broke something."

Laxus stepped right up to the computer chair and lorded over it. "Tell me."

His low voice made Freed feel instinctively compelled to obey. Shivering, he muttered, "Well, you see," he began nervously, "since I was really young, I liked to… to… put my finger… up my… you know…"

"Fingering your ass?" Laxus guessed.

Freed turned red. "I didn't know why, and I didn't understand why my parents hated it. It was just kinda for fun. I even remember Bickslow mimicking me one day. Mother always scolded me and told me it was disgusting, Father at least told me to only do stuff like that in private, so… so whenever I was in the bathtub…"

"You figured you were clean yourself and poked around?"

Freed went crimson now. "I didn't even know why, but it felt nice."

"Mm-hmm," Laxus said, licking his lips.

"I would tell myself, I was just handwashing down there. Then one day, I… well, I know now, I must have hit my prostate just right. Something changed, and I suddenly felt an ache in my… in my…"

"In your cock?" Laxus asked, amused by Freed regressing to a boy who felt humiliated to use adult words.

Freed gulped hard. "I felt like I had to hold it, to rub out the ache. So… I held, and I rubbed, and I kept on poking, trying to find where it was that felt so good, trying to rub that area, and then…" He let the words drift off.

"Ya got yourself off in the bathtub?"

Freed mumbled, "Biologically, I doubt there's even semen in the ejaculation at that age, but… yeah, at least something shot out. Like I said, I thought I broke something. My nursemaid heard my cry out and suddenly walked in to see if I was okay, and I pulled my finger out of my ass so fast I scratched the hell out of my insides. I was bleeding out the ass and begged the nursemaid not to tell my parents, but of course she did. I got grounded, and I was sent to what I can only imagine was some kind of conversion therapy for elementary school kids."

Laxus sneered and grumbled, "What the fuck? Damn, that sucks."

"I refused to touch my butt for two years, but I still wanted to. Like, it ached not to touch while I was in the bathtub, and all I could think about was wanting to stick something in there. I kept having dreams of sitting on things and getting it stuck in my butt. At first, it was just weird dreams, like sitting on a pencil at school and not being allowed to get up out of my seat, but then one day…" He stopped and slammed his mouth shut.

"Oooh no, you don't get to stop at the good part. Tell me."

Freed struggled to come up with the words, twisting around in the computer chair, and Laxus saw his trousers starting to get tighter. "Okay, so, I used to take horseback lessons as a kid, right? I would dream about landing wrong on the saddle and getting the pummel rammed up my ass. Normally, that was it, but one day, the horse in my dream kept trotting, and the pummel kept thrusting in and out. It was such an… intense dream," he confessed softly.

"I bet," Laxus muttered, seeing hard twitches in the trousers.

"I woke up and… well… there was a mess. At first, I thought Bickslow must have played a prank on me, but then I had the dream again, and again."

"A horse saddle, huh?" Laxus said with interest.

"We had just had sex ed in school, so I knew the wet stuff was semen, the same stuff that the teacher said made girls pregnant, and that was… bad. I didn't want any girls, so why would my body make semen? I was so confused, ashamed, and scared that simply touching the stuff might make a maid pregnant. I tried to hide my pajamas and blankets, but I'm sure the maids all knew precisely what was going on. Someone obviously told my father, who sat me down for a talk. I remember, he said I'd start to see girls differently. I didn't, though. I just kept having dreams about things in my ass. I quit riding lessons, hoping the dreams would go away, but I think that just made them even more erotic, like the horse being mad at me and trying to buck me off, and well, that made the pummel shoved up my ass really pound in."

Laxus commented, "Gay wet dreams sound intense."

"I thought something was medically wrong with me, like maybe I had hemorrhoids, so I searched the internet for what dreams like that meant."

"I can imagine you overthinking it," Laxus said in amusement.

"Thanks to that conversion therapy group, I knew a bit about homosexuality, but I wasn't too sure what being gay was all about. Still, what if that was the problem? It had something to do with the butt and with liking boys, but I'd never been attracted to any of the boys in my class, so I thought maybe my problem is just a butt thing. I wanted to know more about this idea so I could properly diagnose myself. No surprise, I ended up on a porn site."

"Oh, what was your first one?" Laxus said with excitement.

"God, I don't remember something like that! It was just some video of two guys. I knew it was naughty, but I watched the video anyway. I told myself I was gathering information, I wanted to know what two boys actually did together, and if that explained my dreams. Research, that's all."

"And you were how old?"

Freed blushed and muttered, "Eleven. It horrified me at first, but I still got tingles. Then they showed one fingering the other, and that ache I had been needing since that day in the bathtub came back. Only, they used something like oil. I didn't have that, but I had some lotion. I… I touched… down there. I needed it. They stroked each other, and I wanted that too. I kept touching, and then it got to the scene of one sticking his dick into the other. I got scared at that point and turned it off. I cleaned my hands, went to bed, and tried to pretend none of that happened."

"That's unsatisfactory," Laxus grumbled.

"Yeah, well, that didn't last too long. By the next night I… I needed it again. I needed to know more. All day, I couldn't stop thinking about that video. So I found the website again, and I watched the whole video. I told myself, I really was just watching it for research, and I swore I wouldn't touch my butt. Still, I thought about that saddle dream while watching this guy getting jackhammered, and… and I touched myself. I couldn't help it, I ached so much, I just really had to rub, until… until… I came. Fully came this time."

Laxus stepped forward. "Were you sitting in that chair?"

"Well, it's not the same chair, but at this desk."

"Show me. Touch yourself, right there, at your childhood desk."

Freed looked around in paranoia. "Here? In broad daylight?"

Laxus slammed his hands on the armrests and leaned right up into his face. "Show me how you touched that first time."

Freed felt mesmerized, a slave to the whims of a god. Breathing hard and moving slowly, Freed undid his belt, opened his trousers, and they both saw how he was already tenting his boxers.

"Be honest," said Laxus. "How did you touch yourself that first time?"

He laughed awkward. "Unlike you, I at least took off my clothes."

"Fuck you," he teased. "Show me precisely what you did, and how you did it." Laxus grabbed Freed's chin and held it dominantly. "And as punishment, you have to do it… in your clothes."

Freed began to feel that sweet headspace submerging him. He seemed to be falling into a memory of the past. He looked down, like he honestly had no idea what to do. He touched the bulge in his boxers, cautiously at first, then slowly more, not in the purposeful way he would do now as an adult, but experimental.

Laxus watched and licked his lips. So, this was what it looked like as Freed discovered himself!

"What was your very first sexual fantasy? Not like horse saddles and shit, but the first person you wanted."

Freed laughed and gulped. "Real or fictional?"

"Either."

"It's really stupid."

"Tell me!"

"It was some anime Bickslow and I liked to watch. In one episode, the main character got a banana shoved in his mouth. Like, really rammed it in. Bickslow just laughed, but I got those same tingles. That was something they had done in the video I watched, sucking each other's cocks." He laughed awkwardly. "I ate a lot of bananas after that, and one day my mother scolded me for sucking on it."

"Did you dream about sucking the cartoon's dick?"

"Not me sucking on it, but… but him… to me." Freed's lips pursed hard as he fought humiliation. "I thought about how that could be done to me, and I imagined slamming my cock into that character." He was still lightly touching himself, thinking back to that first discovery, but his face tensed as he remembered those early erotic fantasies.

Laxus dropped to his knees before him. "You lost your innocence thinking about getting your ass pounded by horses and having a cartoon suck your dick, huh?"

Freed blushed and looked away. "When you put those two together, you make me sound like some degenerate."

Laxus chuckled wickedly. "Babe, I've seen some of the things you've done." He took Freed's knees and pried them open. "What about first human fantasy?"

"Oh, that one is kind of sick, actually."

"Why? Was it some pervy old man?"

"Not old," Freed said, whimpering as Laxus began to kiss up Freed's inner thighs. "It was the leader of the conversion therapy group. He was probably in his early twenties, claimed to be a reformed boy like us, so I knew that meant he was actually gay but got brainwashed into being too scared to admit—AHHH!"

Laxus began to kiss along the tenting curve of Freed's boxers. "You were into the preacher, huh?"

"He… He wasn't a preacher."

"Was he hot?"

Freed moaned as Laxus mortified him with all these probing questions. "I guess… y-yeah, to be honest, he was really hot."

"And you wanted him to break his vow of gay chastity to suck you off?"

Freed whimpered and began to twist needfully in the chair. "A-Actually, I wanted him to fold me over the church pews and take my ass."

"In the church? What a slutty little boy!" Laxus purred in a gravelly depth. "No man ever sucked your cock in this room, right?"

Freed smiled down alluringly. "No man but you has ever tasted me."

Laxus smiled softly, loving the fact that most of Freed's firsts were with him. He leaned over to give Freed's crotch another kiss, keeping his eyes up on him. "Do you wanna fulfill your fantasy?"

Freed instinctively looked toward the door.

"Your parents aren't here to barge in on you." Laxus nipped the side of Freed's boxers. "I kinda wish they were, though. I'd love to see how you'd react, trying to hold back, knowing your parents were right down the hall. I'd love to see that!" He nuzzled the stiff erection, seeing it twitching with excitement. "I'll give you a choice. You can touch yourself until you come in your clothes, or you can beg me to give you a blowjob."

A lump caught in Freed's throat, but he managed to speak in a whisper, "If it pleases you, master—"

"No." Laxus glared hard. "Beg me!"

Freed's knuckles tightened on the chair. His breathing got faster as desire made him pant heavier. "Please…" One hand reached forward and threaded through Laxus' spiky blond hair. His face looked nearly pained with need. "God, please suck me."

Laxus grinned, well-pleased. "That's what I wanna hear."

He carefully pulled Freed's boxers down, freeing the erection. His mouth lowered and his lips spread. As wet heat encased him, Freed arched back in the chair with a throaty moan.

All around him were memories of his hormonally complicated teenage years. The books, this desk, not much had changed about the room since that first day of self-discovery.

The day he learned what gay sex looked like.

The day he realized just how much he wanted it.

The day when he realized that he was definitely gay.

"Oh God, I'm not gonna last long," he seethed, already feeling a pulsing desperation at the base of his cock.

Normally, Laxus would have gripped him to keep him from coming too soon, but he wanted Freed to experience that youthful, awkward, rapid loss of control.

Although they were alone, Freed still slapped a hand over his mouth, trying to silence himself. Laxus wondered if that restraint was the same as in his teen years, fearing his siblings, parents, or the servants would realize he was jerking off.

He whimpered, such sweet sounds to Laxus' ear. His thighs shivered, trying so hard to hold back but losing control. Laxus was merciless, sucking harder, faster, as Freed's muted moans got louder, frantic, desperate.

Suddenly, Freed jolted as he came. His hips made thrusts that sent the chair rolling, but Laxus grabbed it, pulling Freed back up to him so he could keep that pulsing cock in his mouth. Freed finally let out a squelched moan as he felt Laxus swallowing down everything he poured out. Slowly, the throbs eased away and he sank deeper into his chair.

Freed needed a moment to float back down. There was no fear or shame this time, not like in his youth. There was the man he loved, his mouth licking him clean, and blue eyes that gazed with enthralled adoration.

"My first time coming was in his house," Freed whispered as he caressed Laxus' cheek, "and I want my last time to be here, with you."

Laxus looked overwhelmed, immediately catching what Freed was saying.

A lifetime of love!

It would make this house that held so many conflicting emotions a place full of happiness.

"Is that your dream?" asked Laxus. "To make this the house you spend your life in?"

Freed thought about it. So many awful childhood memories were here, but so were good childhood memory. His family was here. His heritage was this house.

"No." Freed leaned forward and placed his forehead against Laxus' brow. "I want to make this the house we spend our lives in." Then he added awkwardly. "If you'll have me."

Laxus took Freed's hand and rubbed over the silver promise ring. "I don't plan on gettin' rid of ya."

They smiled and softly kissed one another. Laxus caressed Freed's cheek.

A lifetime of love sounded like a dream.

This house seemed ridiculously big to Laxus. Almost intimidating. It pissed him off to think that people had this much property, massive houses with dozens of rooms that they rarely even used, while others could not afford to keep a roof over their head.

But they also gave free housing to workers. That was better than every employee he ever had. They donated to shelters for people whose homes had been broken by abuse, helping them to escape and establish a new, safe home of their own.

No matter where they lived, he just wanted to be with Freed.

Forever?

He wanted that, and yet he worried. His past could come back to haunt him. His hunt for his father could rip them apart at a moment's notice. But Laxus wanted to think, no matter what happened in life, he could always come back to this house, and more importantly, to this man.

A knock on the door jolted them both.

"Young master," a woman called in, "Mr. Bas says you have a call."

Freed sighed and shook his head. "Part of me would prefer a house without anyone who could interrupt us." Then he called to the door. "I'll be right there."

He tucked his cock back away, fixed his underwear and trousers, tightened his belt, made sure his shirt was tucked in primly, and smoothed down his hair. He turned to Laxus, seeking approval of his appearance.

"You don't looked fucked out of your mind," he said, and added, "Not yet."

Freed quipped back, "Gotta save some for tonight… and the playroom."

"A definite bonus of living in this big-ass house."

Laxus watched as Freed to the door and unlocked it. He greeted the waiting maid politely, and they left down the hall. Freed gave a last warm smile back to Laxus before the door clicked shut.

Yet like embers left too long untended, the warmth of their shared moment quickly cooled. Laxus stood motionless, trapped in a suffocating silence.

His fingers curled into fists at his sides. His pulse, once quickened by love and teasing, now thumped slower, heavier, like lead pumping through his veins.

He sat in the desk chair with a heavy exhale, the swivel creaking faintly as he rocked back and forth. His eyes fixed on nothing in particular, staring through the elegant furnishings of Freed's childhood sanctuary as they dissolved into shadows.

His lips curled into a bitter grimace. "I'm so fucking glad he didn't ask me about my first time coming. Fuck."

Laxus pressed his thumb hard against the silver band around his finger, a technique his therapist had taught him to ground himself, focusing on the moment and the promise this ring represented. Normally, it worked, but this time even a grounding technique could not shield him from the creeping darkness slithering into his thoughts.

He clenched his jaw, closed his eyes, and growled in pain as he tried to push the memory away. Yet despite his best efforts, the memory clawed its way up.

# # #

# #

#

A/N: Uh-oh. This doesn't look good.

I did a major rewrite to Chapter 21 "Passing Storm," after realizing I made a mistake in the timeline. It doesn't change the story, but I thought I'd point it out.
It's all part of me seriously considering publishing this story, changing the names. Laxus would be renamed Barak "Barry" Rabinovich (suggested by eferhilda-drake on Tumblr: Barak means lightning in Hebrew, appropriate for Laxus). Freed would be renamed Frederick Degen, but Barry calls him "Fred" for short. "Degen" is a Swiss surname meaning "rapier, small sword," and I thought Frederick sounds like an upper class name, plus I can imagine Barry constantly using "Fred," sometimes to his annoyance when he's trying to be serious.

Barry and Fred. What do you think?