Thunder Rolls

Night

Night rolled in. The sky still had a purple glow when Laxus broke out the bottle of rum. Freed eyed the alcohol with a racing heart. Laxus gave him permission to kiss him only if he was drunk. Now they were here, in the middle of the woods, alone, and Laxus took a swig straight from the bottle. He was obviously planning on getting drunk that night.

"Laxus?" he asked in trepidation.

The look shot at him killed all protests. Laxus' eyes silently told him to shut up, don't say anything, don't ask anything, don't question this decision, just shut up and let it happen. To emphasize his determination, he took another gulp and said, "This is how I roll."

Freed gulped dryly, and he felt a chill in his arms. This was wrong, all sorts of levels of wrong! Yet it was something Laxus wanted, and one thing Freed could never do was go against Laxus' orders. Whether if he ordered Freed to attack friends, join another guild, or if he commanded Freed to give up his own life, he would obey.

Those were the rules, and the rules were absolute.

"We need music."

Freed had anticipated this. He reached into his pack and pulled out a flute. Laxus always loved music, so everyone in the Thunder God Tribe learned a musical instrument. Evergreen had a talent for guitar, Bickslow was good at the concertina, and Freed mastered many instruments so he could be useful to Laxus at any moment. For camping, a flute worked well. It was more durable than a fiddle and he did not have to worry about strings snapping. Plus the sound of the flute settled the stomach, and there was no knowing when Laxus might need relief from motion sickness.

He piped a sweet tune, and the music echoed through the trees. Laxus leaned back and took a slower sip of rum as he watched Freed play. He was a graceful man, talented, handsome ... yes, even Laxus had to admit that Freed was good-looking. He was so refined, many people felt he was too good for them. Laxus had listened to many ladies over the years admiring Freed but bashfully admitting he was too genteel, too sweet, they could never corrupt a gentleman like that. Little did those ladies realize that Freed was strictly gay. They didn't stand a chance anyway.

A man like this, and he wanted no one else but Laxus!

As odd as it was for him to think that another man felt that way toward him, Laxus had to admit that it was flattering. Most of the women brave enough to approach Laxus took him as a bad boy wild type. They wanted wild and rough sex; he was willing to pleasure them so long as there were no strings attached.

Freed was not like that. Even this arrangement he set up, having Freed as a pseudo-wife, was probably disappointing, not at all what Freed truly desired, yet he looked overjoyed to get even this much attention. Really, he was like a puppy.

Before he knew it, Laxus was nearing the bottom of the bottle. He scooted over closer. He never let himself think this way when he was sober, but the alcohol lowered his strict sense of pride. When he wasn't trying so hard at keeping a distinction between teammates and fuck buddies, he could see Freed for what he was: a handsome man who loved him unequivocally. Screw the fact that they were teammates and they had rules about this sort of thing. Fuck all the rules! Fuck gender and everything else! This person loved Laxus deeper than any girlfriend ever had.

And that was pretty damn amazing!

Freed realized Laxus was close, way too close. He glanced to the side and saw the glazed look in his eyes. He was drunk, and his eyes burned with passion. He forced himself to look straight ahead. They had rules on the team. Teammates were not allowed to flirt with one another. Teammates were not allowed to molest one another even in jest. And between him and Laxus, there were more rules: Freed could stay with Laxus so long as he did not let his unrequited feelings get in the way.

What were the rules now?

"Your lips are really talented."

A squawk came out of the flute as Freed jumped. He set the instrument aside as he realized the blond was right up against him.

"L-Laxus?" he breathed nervously.

"Show me," Laxus whispered, caressing Freed's face and leaning in closer. "Show me how talented those lips are."

Freed's heart was racing. He wanted to kiss Laxus so badly, it burned his chest. All day, he had been privately fantasizing about it. Yet this was wrong. There were rules. Rules were absolute. Those who broke the rules were subjected to a fate worse than death.

He turned his face aside. "No!" he said with a cry as his heart screamed in protest.

Laxus' eyes narrowed. "Don't give me that."

"Laxus, this is wrong. You're drunk. I can't take advantage of you when you're drunk. That's ... that's not what you do when you love someone," he shouted.

He was suddenly grabbed and slammed to the ground. Freed gasped as Laxus leaned down over him.

"I got drunk on purpose, idiot. We set up rules. I'm playin' by those rules. I said don't kiss me unless I'm drunk. Well guess fucking what!" he bellowed. "I wanna kiss you, and I have to waste a fucking bottle of rum just to do it and still play by the fucking rules, because you're so goddamn strict about rules, rules, rules, and I don't want you to get mad at me for breaking them. So shut the fuck up and let me kiss you!"

Freed's head was slammed down by rough lips. It was such a brutal kiss, and the forcefulness made his heart race. He still tried to struggle, pushing against the broad barrel chest as if he had any chance at fighting off a man as strong as Laxus. His wrists were suddenly grabbed, pinned down to the dirt, and Freed cried out as a bone in his wrist popped. A tongue plugged up his shouting mouth. Being assaulted like this was thrilling, so taboo. He felt trapped between desire and fear. Freed realized that Laxus had planned this, and he obeyed their rules since he knew how strict Freed was about these things. It was a premeditated make-out. If he was that determined ... well, Freed was not going to complain too much.

Laxus felt the struggles ceasing. "Better," he chuckled, kissing his neck and nipping his collar bone. "Although, I kinda like you when you put up a fight," he admitted sadistically.

Freed felt Laxus' hips roll, and his voice trembled sensually through the campsite. Thick fingers began to undo Freed's belt.

"No!" Freed screamed, and his voice cracked with panicking astonishment. "Laxus, this isn't right. Stop!"

Laxus grabbed his cheeks and squeezed. He glared down and hissed, "Don't tell me no." Then he kissed him harder.

Freed felt unsteady fingers all over him, groping, undressing, caressing him everywhere. As much as he loved the feel of Laxus' lips, hands, and the undulation of his body, Freed dreaded to know how this was going to change things between them come morning.