#and yes i said they gave a singular toast; they have given their toasts together at all three weddings

[superb-fairywren]

at the wedding i was at last night, the matrons of honor made a toast referencing High School Musical and The Perks of Being a Wallflower AND I WAS THE ONLY ONE TO LAUGH AT BOTH

[phoenixfeatherquill]

Midwinter (3/5)

AN:  More smut!

In Pelle’s dreams, he saw her dancing. 

It was the first time she smiled. No, that wasn’t right. She had smiled when he had given her the birthday sketch, touched that someone remembered her. That someone saw her. But while the smile had been sincere, it was tinged with Christian disappointing her. Christian hurting her. Even his art could not overcome that. 

But when she danced with her future handmaids, she forgot her pain. She was caught up in the embrace of his family, the exhilaration of the dance, and became…joyous. She laughed like a child, threw her hair back as she held the hands of her handmaids. Her laughter touched something deep inside Pelle and he knew in that singular moment that he wanted to make her laugh, make her smile, bring her joy…forever. And when her excitement disappeared, when she caught Christian’s disapproving gaze and her face fell…Pelle knew he wanted Christian to suffer. And suffer he did. 

But in this dream, it was not the violent music of the villagers that he saw Dani listen to. Instead, it was a woman’s voice, someone who sounded like his mother, singing a lullaby or a folk song from long ago. He realized with a jolt that it was the same song, but darker, slower, more melodic. And as Dani danced, a shadowy figure appeared and danced with her. The figure had hoofed feet and played the fiddle for her. He looked familiar to Pelle, like a younger version of his father, perhaps, but his eyes gleamed in the darkness. No, that wasn’t right…the eyes were burning like hot embers. The way the temple burned to the ground in front of them all last summer. But Dani was entranced and jubilant. 

The song was a popular folk song played all over Sweden, covered by everyone from metal bands to choirs. It told the tale of the devil disguising himself as a fiddler and leading a group of young women away from the comforts of their village into an eternal orgasmic dance until they fell to their feet. 

The Christian implications were clear. The Devil seducing wayward women who forgot their new God too easily. But for the Hårga, the meaning was obscured. The dark one, too easily defined by the Christians as the Devil, led the women in a willing sacrificial dance. They gave up their lives for the sake of the village, as was their way. And the dark one was not one half of a simplistic theological binary. He—or she, depending on the tale—was far more complex. The dark one represented the bloody darkness of sacrifice, of sexual desire, the pain of birth, the rot of and stink of decay, everything that was accepted and part of the life of the Hårga. Not as something to be feared or a punishment, but all part of a glorious dance. 

In his dream, he saw the fiddler dance with Dani. But instead of her falling to her death, the fiddler stopped his mysterious melody. He knelt before her and Pelle recognized the fiddler as himself—but shrouded in darkness with cloven feet. Dani touched the crown of his head. For she was the goddess. His goddess. 

Pelle’s eyes flicked open. Dani was nestled against his chest and his heartbeat sped as he looked at her. He dreamed of her as his May Queen, yes, but there was something more to the dream. The gods had sent it, surely. Dani was something more than their May Queen, their future leader. But what? 

He could not interpret dreams on an empty stomach. He wanted hot coffee and a large breakfast ready for Dani when she awoke. So he gently kissed her forehead and rolled away from her. She frowned in her sleep at the absence of his warmth and he stroked her head gently before heading downstairs. 

**** 

When Dani awoke, she was alone. 

She sleepily stretched out her arm, searching for Pelle’s warmth. She felt nothing but cold sheets and her eyes shot open. 

Winter sunlight flooded the master bedroom. She blinked blearily at her surroundings. Memories from last night flooded her mind, the black dress, the Hårga’s harmonies, Pelle’s tongue…heat filled her cheeks. 

She sat up a little and moved towards the left-hand window next to her bed. Snow blanketed the ground and frosted the trees. It looked like something out of a fairytale, out of Narnia. It was beautifully inviting and she felt the intense urge to walk around in it. She swallowed. Her family had died the night of a terrible snowstorm. Snow always seemed ominous and cruel. But here… 

She wrapped her blankets around her and she wondered again where Pelle went off to. Was he mad at her? Sometimes when she didn’t want to have sex but still wanted to cuddle with Christian, he’d get angry and leave in the middle of the night. She’d be too embarrassed to bring it up in the morning, and Christian would refuse to speak to her, icily drinking his coffee. This didn’t seem like something Pelle would do, but surely he’d heard Christian’s complaints… 

Dani hugged her knees and listened. She thought she could hear movement downstairs. “Pelle?” She called out tentatively. 

There was no response. She hugged her knees a little tighter and let the dread rise in her chest. 

Before panic could completely consume her, her door popped open and Pelle peered inside. 

“Did you call me?” He looked at her in concern, huddled in her blankets. “I was making you coffee. And some breakfast.” 

“I thought you might have left.” 

She winced—the words sounded pathetic out loud. But Pelle cocked his head, a little like a spaniel. 

“Go? Where would I go?” He teased. 

“I—I don’t know,” Dani mumbled. He went to her and sat on the corner of the bed. He touched squeezed her knee. 

“Sorry,” She rested her head on her knees. “I’m being paranoid. Christian would get mad at me if I didn’t—mornings would be awkward.”

Pelle frowned at that. “Why on earth would I be mad at you?” 

Dani combed her fingers through her hair. “I just don’t like waking up alone.” 

His eyes widened. She looked away from him in embarrassment. He came fully on the bed and wrapped his arms around her. She leaned into his warmth and the two of them fell softly onto the bed. 

“I will never let you wake up alone again,” He murmured in her ear. “I promise. Forgive me?” 

There was nothing to forgive. She rested her head on his chest and listened to the sound of his heartbeat. 

“Did you sleep all right?” He asked. “Would you like me to bring you your breakfast?” 

She nodded, still embarrassed. He held her warmly and stood, making his way out of the bedroom to retrieve it. 

He returned with a tea tray with a large silver coffeepot and thick white mugs. She noticed thin, dark slices of toasted bread on the tray and an assortment of spreads. She had been in Sweden long enough to recognize the fare, which included butter, cheese, thin slices of ham, pickles, cucumber, and tomatoes. 

“And something else,” Pelle said with a smile. He brought another plate that was stacked with waffles and Dani beamed. 

“I love waffles,” She took the plate and happily started eating. “My favorite food.” 

“I know.” 

Dani snorted. “Did Christian tell you that?” 

Pelle shook his head. “Do you remember when we first met?” 

She thought for a moment. Meeting Pelle? Honestly, meeting Christian’s friends had blurred together. She had seen them sporadically, the nights she spent at Christian’s apartment, the parties she accompanied him at. She didn’t remember the first time she met Pelle. 

“I know Christian introduced us,” She offered hesitantly. “But I don’t remember exactly when. Sorry.” 

Pelle shrugged. “I don’t expect you to. But I remember. It was after a…late night. Mark had dragged us all to a party across town. We stayed there till about 7AM. All I wanted to do was go back to my bedroom and sleep for the rest of time, but Christian wanted coffee and he didn’t want to go to the cafeteria by himself. He knew you’d be there and he didn’t want you to know where he’d been.” 

Dani frowned. Christian often told her that he’d had late night study sessions with the guys…it shouldn’t surprise her that this was less than accurate. 

“I hadn’t met you yet. I’d only been in the States for about a week—I arrived a little later in the semester…visa issues. I was heavily jetlagged, exhausted from the parties Mark dragged us to, and the last thing I wanted to do was cover for Christian.” Pelle grimaced at the memory. 

“But he insisted,” He stretched out onto the bed and took a piece of toast. “And we went into the cafeteria. All I wanted was coffee and the coffee machine was broken. I was muttering to myself in Swedish, so they wouldn’t know how irritated I was…and you came up to our table to say hi to Christian. You were wearing pajama pants, ones with little black bears on them. I thought you looked so cute.” 

“I was in my pajamas?!” Dani groaned a little. It was silly to be embarrassed by this reminiscence. But she was a college student after all, and no college student went anywhere before 10:00AM in anything but pajamas. 

“You were beautiful,” Pelle smiled at her and tugged a lock of her hair. “And you waxed poetic about how much you loved waffles, though your mother’s were better. I looked at you and Christian and thought about all the things Christian had said about you…and I felt angry. And jealous. For the first time, I was…envious of something he had. And I hated him for it.” 

Pelle had been…jealous? Of her? 

A draft made her shiver. “Was that—was that the reason you chose him? To come here?” 

He shook his head. “I chose him before I met you. But…the truth is, Dani, he made me so furious with him for how he treated you. I confess…I encouraged him to break up with you, along with Mark and Josh. But my reasons were entirely selfish.” 

A smile crept onto her face. “What, were you planning on asking me out if Christian had broken up with me?” 

“Certainly not,” Pelle stroked her back affectionately. “How could I ask the gods for such an honor? It would be like demanding the moon and stars come down and dance for me. No, I only wanted him to stop hurting you and treating you cruelly. But after you lost your family…well, I knew the only way to separate you both permanently would be our trip to Sweden. I never imagined he’d bring you as well.” 

Dani never imagined it either. She never intended on forcing Christian’s hand. She hadn’t particularly wanted to go to Sweden. But the way Christian had thrown it at her like a dagger, “if you’re so upset about it, you can come, I just didn’t want to invite you because you were going through so much!” He had expected her to turn him down. It felt good to take him up on the offer, to force him to tell the rest of his band that Yoko Ono was coming too. Even if she felt the rest of his friends’ displeasure acutely. 

Pelle ran his fingers through his hair and gazed up at the ceiling. “He nearly spoiled everything. I was…terrified that you were coming too.” 

She cocked her head towards him. Pelle’s admission was interesting. Like Josh and Mark, he hadn’t wanted her to come—but it seemed to out of a worry for her life, not because she was breaking up the band. 

“I can’t really say I’m sorry for it,” She admitted and Pelle laughed. 

“I’m a believer in a higher power, Dani,” He smiled at her in a tender way that made her heart ache. “When I learned that your birthday was over Midsommar…and the way you shone like the sun among my family…I knew you were sent here for a reason. I didn’t know what reason. I just knew I was the gods’ courier. And now…you are our May Queen. Nothing was coincidence.” 

Dani stared at him seriously. “What would have happened? If I were chosen to be sacrificed for Midsommar?” 

Pelle shook his head briskly. “Oh no. That would not have happened. Of this I am sure.” 

“But what if it had?” She persisted. “What would you have done?” 

He hesitated. It was because of Pelle that Mark, Josh, and Christian were all dead. The night Josh disappeared, Dani had woken up and seen both Josh and Pelle’s empty beds. She suspected Josh’s desperation to create a stronger thesis would lead him to do something reckless and she had no doubt that Pelle had distributed the consequences. She was no friend of Josh’s; he had considered her an annoyance and distraction of Christian’s. But when Christian had declared to him that the Hårga would now be his thesis…even Dani thought it was a scummy thing to do. 

“I would not have let it happen.” 

Pelle’s voice, so low and barely above a whisper jerked Dani out of her reminisces. She looked at him somewhat astonished. Pelle’s loyalty to his village was one of his distinguishing characteristics. It was an almost rebellious thing to say. And it seemed that he considered the statement selfish; pink tinged his cheeks and he averted his gaze in shame. 

He cleared his throat. “But it never would have happened. The moment Siv saw you…she sensed something about you. Everything aligned together. The day of your birth, Midsommar, your coronation…all of it was fated. You were fated to be our queen.” 

His eyes met hers. “My queen.” 

Heat coursed through Dani’s body. Pelle was looking at her that way, that heart-wrenching and tender way that made her feel short of breath. She felt the strong desire to kiss him again. 

 Well, why not? I am the May Queen, aren’t I? 

She brought her lips to his and she felt him gasp at her boldness. Last night it was Pelle who took control, who kissed her and apologized for taking the liberty. But she didn’t have to apologize. He was here to serve her, to adore her, to please her, and he seemed only to happy to oblige. She so loved how he tasted in the morning…a heady combination of dark coffee and sugar from the glazed rolls. 

Dani could feel him hardening against her and to her delight, it no longer made her anxious. It didn’t matter how much she turned him on, Pelle would never guilt her or get angry with her; whatever boundaries or limits she set for herself. The wild comfort of this made her kiss him even harder and run her fingers down his chest. 

She paused in her ministrations to observe him. He opened his heavy-lidded eyes and murmured, “Now I shall make you breakfast every morning.” 

She laughed and kissed him again. She wanted to taste him everywhere, the flavor of his cheekbones, the smooth curve of his neck, his lovely, golden chest. She pushed him down onto the bed and pinned his arms. He watched her in utter rapture. 

“I want you,” Dani admitted. “I haven’t…I haven’t wanted someone like this in a long time. Or I guess…I haven’t felt comfortable wanting someone like this in a long time.” 

His gaze was tender. “This is how it should be, Dani. This is how you should be loved. It…infuriates me that you’ve known anything else.”

She swallowed. “There’s something else.” 

Pelle raised an eyebrow. 

“When I have sex…sometimes it hurts. Most of the time it hurts, actually. My gyno called it ‘vaginismus’. I tense up and I can’t handle penetration. I was working with someone on it before—before my parents died, but…I just…” She looked away from him. “I’m embarrassed about it.” 

She released his arms and he immediately cupped her face. His finger stroked down her cheek, but she could not meet his gaze. 

“Did Christian know?” Pelle asked. 

“I told him,” Dani kept her eyes fixed on the bedspread. “I don’t think he believed me. He just said I was frigid and needed to relax. And then accused me of blaming him for our sex life being bad and I—it was just a mess.” 

She twisted a lock of her hair in anxiety. “But I wanted to tell you because—because I feel like you’re doing all the giving and I’m not—I’m not giving back.” 

“Oh, Dani,” Pelle sat up and wrapped his arms around her. “You’re thinking about this all wrong. This isn’t a transaction. You are not a vending machine; I do not give you affection in exchange for sex. This is an expression of my feelings for you and yours for me. I told you truthfully last night; if you never wanted to have penetrative sex, that would be all right. You are my May Queen, my summer goddess, and I will worship you however you want.” 

She gazed at him levelly. “But what if I want to give back to you?” 

He smiled at her. “Then I will gladly receive. But on your terms. Within your boundaries. With the knowledge that you can stop if ever you should feel uncomfortable.” 

Dani stared at him as he ran his fingers through her hair. He tilted his head in a silent question. 

“I was just wondering how I got so caught up in Christian when you were right there.” She murmured and it made him laugh. 

“I didn’t exactly make my presence known,” He chuckled and gently flipped her over on her back. “But now, my queen…with your permission…” 

Pelle’s lips traced down her skin and lingered at her breasts. She was rather small-chested; another source of insecurity in her previous relationship (Christian had made no secret of his preference for women with bigger tits) but Pelle worshiped them reverently with his tongue. She cried out when his tongue flicked over her nipple and sucked gently. His teeth grazed over the sensitive buds and Dani curled her fingers into the sheets. How was his mouth so good? 

His fingers stroked down the length of her sides until she felt them approach her inner thighs. She took a deep breath and tried to force herself to relax—always a lost cause, relaxation could not be forced. But she so badly wanted to just let go and enjoy herself with Pelle… 

“Dani,” Pelle murmured in her ear. His fingers lazily circled her thighs, nowhere near her core. She looked up at him. 

“Do you remember when we went bowling?” 

She thought. “I think so?” 

“It was in the fall,” Pelle told her and she felt the tension leave her shoulders as he continued to massage her thighs. “But a hot fall day. There was a large group of us. Boys against the girls. You and a few friends, Mark’s girlfriend at the time, a girl I invited for an even number…you beat us soundly.” 

“I…do remember that,” She reached up to touch Pelle’s beard. “And the girl you brought. She was pretty.” 

He grinned at her. “Vivian. She was dating a girl named Andrea. But a very fun girl. She told me not to invite her to things with Mark and Christian again. But she knew how I felt about you. She teased me mercilessly, especially when you came in that little sundress…” 

Dani buried her head in his shoulder. “You remember what I was wearing?” 

“Of course. A little white sundress with sunflowers on it. It was very…distracting.” 

His voice became husky and his fingers traveled up her thighs, barely grazing her. Electricity swam through Dani’s veins as she tried to remember why she wore a sundress to a bowling alley. 

“Oh,” She whispered. “That was it. It was—it was my mother’s birthday. We took her out for Sunday brunch. I didn’t have time to change…I was really worried about the dress smelling like cigarette smoke…” 

“You sat next to me at one of the little tables,” Pelle’s fingers teased her inner folds, stroking in and out—not enough for her to tense. He was as gentle as butterfly wings and Dani began to feel heat travel up her core. 

“I was trying so hard not to stare at you,” Pelle bit her earlobe and she squeaked. “I could not believe Christian barely looked at you.” 

Dani remembered. “He was talking to the girl you brought. Vivian. She was wearing a crop top. She had all these tattoos…” 

“Vivian thought he was ridiculous,” Pelle sucked on her earlobe gently. “But she thought it was funny to keep him distracted while I talked to you. You were swinging your legs back and forth. You smelled like strawberries and mint and I was losing my mind.” 

His fingers delved deeper inside her and to Dani’s surprise, she did not experience that familiar twinge of pain. His voice had relaxed her; she was becoming flushed and heated at the memory of her sitting in a bowling alley, innocently driving Pelle crazy. 

“What did—what did you want to do to me?” She half-panted and Pelle groaned at the question. His fingers probed deeper but still so gently, backing off at any sort of resistance, circling her clit with each penetration. 

“I wanted to take you, right there on that sticky table. I wanted to knock off all the beers and kiss you until you were breathless.” To show her his point, he captured her lips and Dani moaned at the vivid image. 

“I wanted to make love to you in front of Christian. Have him see you screaming and wet; lick every inch of you until you were trembling. I wanted you to feel every inch of me and I wanted to see Christian’s face as I did it.” 

Dani’s back arched as Pelle’s fingers entered her more deeply. It didn’t hurt. She didn’t know if it was because she felt so relaxed and sated in Pelle’s arms or if it was his husky voice velveting every single word he spoke, but for the first time, it did not feel like violation. She ached for him. 

But not yet. While his fingers thrust within her, his thumb rubbed against her soaking clit and just as in his fantasy, Dani cried out hoarsely, waves of pleasure rocketing her forward. 

“It’s almost a shame he is dead,” Pelle whispered in her ear, thrusting his fingers inside and out, over and over. “I wish he could see you like this. I wish I could’ve done this to him before he died. But I’ll not lie to you my Queen, when you sentenced him to death, I smiled and praised the old gods for you.” 

Dani was gasping. She watched dazedly as Pelle pulled his fingers out of her sopping core and, looking her straight in the eye, tasted her off his fingers. She tried to say something but it only came out in a sated moan. He then kissed her again and she could taste her own salty-sweetness on her tongue. 

She leaned back on her pillows and tried to return to sanity, Pelle’s fingers lazily carding her hair.

[eryiss]

FRAXUS: Eight Days In Transit - 2 of 2

Summary: Laxus' life had always been hard. His life was shaped by hardships and troubles, and he knew he needed to keep on moving to survive. But when he is forced to stowaway on a luxury train to Paris, he is given a small respite in his troubles in the form of Freed Justine, a confident writer unlike anyone Laxus had ever met. The man offers him space in his cabin just for the story of how he got there, an act of kindness that changes Laxus' life completely.

But a lot can happen on a train journey. And getting on the train might have been one of the best things that could have happened to Laxus. All it takes is eight days of transit. [Fraxus | 12.5k Words]

Hi all. I hope you liked the first part and enjoy reading the ending. Just to warn you there’s a smut scene, which is skippable. It starts at the headding ‘Day Seven - Night’ if you want to avoid it.

You can read it on Archive of our Own, Fanfiction and Under The Cut. Also you can read the previous chapter here.

Eight Days Of Transit - Part 2

Day Five: Morning

When Laxus woke, there was a ball of guilt in his stomach.

Whatever Freed wanted to do with men was none of his business, and it was unimportant. What was important was that he and Freed were friends – or at least on good terms with each other – and Laxus had been a jackass. His silence had led to Freed to believe Laxus judged him for his preference, and that wasn't right.

Worse still, Freed had faced rejection on his novella due to it being a romance between two men. He must have already been feeling shitty about himself, and Laxus' silence would have been another kick to the teeth.

He had acted like a dick and needed to make amends.

Blinking open his eyes he looked to the side and his guilt increased tenfold. Sitting on the desk was a steaming bowl of porridge, three sliced of toast and a singular glass of orange juice. Freed had left him the breakfast he'd had throughout the week despite their argument. So he was still making good on his promise to look after him, not even punishing him slightly by lessening how much he was going to eat, and it made Laxus feel sick with his guilt.

Laxus jumped down from the bunk, stretching his back as he paced the room slightly. The first thing he needed to do was to apologise, then assure Freed that he didn't care about his homosexuality. Hopefully that would at least be a start at making things right.

As he paced, he heard the sound of water sloshing behind the closed door of the washroom.

So Freed was cleaning, rather than having left for the morning. That was good, that way he wouldn't have to wait until the night for Freed to return so he could apologise. If Freed had another day without him, then he would have more time to believe Laxus thought his lifestyle was wrong and his resentment would grow.

Although hearing Freed moving in the washroom made Laxus nervous.

He was never good at apologies. But this had to be different, because he truly was apologetic. In the past, most of his apologies were either because someone had forced him to say sorry or because he had a social obligation to do so. With this, he just had to be honest.

After a few moments, where Laxus nervously wrung his hands together, the door to the washroom opened. Laxus snapped his head towards Freed, who was fully dressed in his waistcoat and jacket, clearly intending to leave their cabin as quickly as possible. Freed hadnt yet been self-conscious about changing his clothes in front of Laxus other than in their first day together, so the fact he had dressed himself in the washroom was clearly related to their argument the day before. It made Laxus feel a little dull in his stomach.

"Wait," Laxus said, standing up and putting a hand on Freed's chest to stop him from leaving. "I need to talk to you."

"Make it quick then," Freed snapped icily. "I'm surprised you can bare to touch me. You might think I'm infectious or something absurd of the sort."

"That's actually what I wanted to talk about. What we spoke about last night, I mean," Laxus grinded his teeth, he should have planned this out. Freed looked at him expectantly, and impatiently. "Look, the fact that you're…"

"Gay," Freed spoke clearly. "I'm gay, Laxus. You can say it."

"The fact that you're gay, it ain't my business," Laxus continued, trying to maintain eye contact. He had never been good with eye contact. "Where you wanna put your dick… it ain't anything to do with me. Women, men, it's your choice. And let's be honest, I'm not in a place to judge you on anything. I snuck onto a fucking train and you didn't judge me."

"Correct," Freed said, still a little hostile. Laxus removed his hand from Freed's chest and sighed.

"I'm sorry," He said clearly, looking to the ground now. "You're a good man, and you've been more than decent to me. And this isn't me scared about you speaking to someone and getting me kicked off, do that if you want. It's your choice. But, I just want you to know that I am sorry for not being better to you."

Freed's posture changed a little. Laxus hadnt noticed it before, but Freed had been tense. Not out of fear – he couldn't imagine Freed being scared – but out of restraint. Perhaps he would have punched Laxus if he said the wrong thing. Perhaps he would have deserved it.

"Its fine," Freed said, and Laxus deflated.

"You sure?"

"Yes, I accept your apology," Freed sent him a small smile. "If you can believe it, your reaction was probably one of the best I've gotten; other gay men not withstanding of course."

"Seriously?" Laxus frowned. "I've been feeling shit about it, how much worse could it have been?"

"I've been beaten, spat at, yelled at. Most recently I got that letter from my publisher," Freed laughed a little, and it was clearly cynical. "It's a funny world we live in, where the best reaction I can get for telling someone about the gender I wish to love is a confused and somewhat judgemental silence."

That made Laxus feel like shit. He had no idea how much it must hurt Freed.

"But that's the reality of the world, and I can't change that," Freed sighed. "Speaking of unfortunate realities, we had some new passengers aboard and society dictates I must be polite to them."

The speed in which Freed changed topics almost gave Laxus whiplash. It highlighted just how well-versed Freed was in keeping his sexuality – and the feelings and opinions that came with it – under the surface of his personality. It was honesty jarring.

Laxus stood out of Freed's way, looking down at the floor again; perhaps he was ashamed of himself, or just shocked at the reality of Freed's life. The writer chuckled a little at the reaction, gave Laxus a solitary pat on the shoulder as if to say he understood what Laxus was going through, and started to walk to the door of their cabin.

"I really am sorry, Freed," Laxus said a final time.

"I know you are," Freed said, almost kindly. "Good day, Laxus."

~~~

Day Five: Evening

"I wanna tell you everything."

Laxus was lying in his bunk, looking up at the wooden ceiling. Freed was in the bed below him, and the room was dark without the candle or sunlight illuminating it. Laxus had no idea what the time was, exactly, but could assume it had been hours since the sun had set. The only reason he knew Freed was still awake was because he could hear him moving slightly in the bed.

Throughout the day, Laxus had been thinking. Freed had been open with him, about something that had gotten him injured and degraded in the past no less. And Laxus was still holding onto why he was on the train in the first place; something comparatively inconsequential.

"If you're ready," Freed replied slowly.

"Yeah, I think I am," Laxus nodded to himself. "I don't know if you wanna get a notepad or something…"

"I can remember," Freed assured him. "Speak when you feel comfortable."

Again, Laxus nodded. He took a moment to try and arrange his thoughts, wanting to be as honest and as open Freed had been with him. The story as to why Laxus needed to get on the train was literally the only thing Freed wanted in payment for becoming an accomplice in Laxus' crime, he needed to be as clear headed as he could. Out of respect for the man who had saved him.

"I guess, in a way, it started when I was a teenager," Laxus began. "I lived in Paris, with my grandfather. It was just the two of us most of the time, my mom had died and my dad… we'll get to him. So basically my grandfather raised me, and I had a pretty good life with him, but we argued a lot. It got worse when I was around sixteen.

"My dad had gotten in contact with me, we sent letters to each other a lot. Gramps found out and went insane, started yelling at me. Telling me to cut him out of his life, that he's a lowlife and scum. Didn't believe him, of course. Which only made things worse."

Laxus sighed, running a hand through his hair. He didn't like being reminded of the last time he saw his grandfather; the screaming matches were something he wasn't proud of.

"I ignored my grandad and kept in contact with my dad. He seemed like this perfect guy. He was rich and powerful, made himself out to be one of the most influential people in Athens," Laxus sighed. "And of course I fucking lapped that up like an idiot. I lived with this weird old man and then my dad showed up, acting like he was this man of power who everyone respected. Made his life look perfect and I wanted to be involved in it."

"That's understandable," Freed replied, mainly to show he was listening.

"I guess," Laxus sighed. "Me and Gramps argued more and more. I got closer to my dad, complained about Gramps to him, and then one day he showed up. Out of the blue, he was on the doorstep. Some rich guy dressed in designer clothes and expensive watches just was there. He seemed charming, like a good dad, so of course I fell for his bullshit.

"Gramps came home, went fucking mad. Tried to kick him out, say he wasn't welcome and to stop contacting me. I backed my dad up, like a fucking dickhead. And clearly my dad saw this as an opportunity, because this was the height of me and Gramps' arguing, he offered to take me with him."

Laxus sighed. He remembered how hopeful he had been. Ivan seemed to promise him the world, and he stupidly believed him.

"And I said yes," He said, eyes closing. "Gramps begged me not to, said Ivan was lying to me, but I wouldn't believe him. I packed up my shit, got on the train the same day."

"I assume," Freed said cautiously. "That it wasn't like you hoped."

"Fuck no," Laxus almost laughed at the idea. "He wasn't anything fucking like what he said. He was just a crappy wannabe thug, sucking up to anyone who could help him. And he was in debt to the Tartaros family, a group of hardcore gangsters who fucking ran Greece. And it wasn't like he owed him some spare change; he'd taken fucking thousands from them. Which they wanted back.

"That's why he got me in Greece, actually. He needed money, and I was a way to get it. Started off as menial work, heavy lifting and crap. Then it got worse, like selling guns and drugs to other thugs, and booze, during prohibition. He even tried to whore me out to any girl who'd pay."

"Jesus," Freed whispered.

"That was the limit for me," Laxus sighed. "I didn't wanna do any of that shit, but I wasn't going to fuck old women just to get him out of trouble. I was sixteen for fucks sake!"

Laxus took a breath to calm himself. The resentment he had for his father still ignited anytime he thought about him. Who fucking pimped their own son out, when they were a kid no less? That was just who Ivan was. Even his first letter to Laxus had a clear agenda, Laxus realised later in life. He was asking how comfortable he was with his grandfather and if he was living well; if Laxus had spoken about any riches Ivan would have no doubt tried to guilt him into giving them to him.

"I told him he couldn't make me do any of the shit he wanted me to do," Laxus continued after a moment. "He went insane at me. Said that I would do exactly what he said, and that everything I had in Athens was because of him, and he could take it away. I called his bluff, and he did. Threw me out with nothing but what I was wearing."

"Shit," Freed cussed, and Laxus laughed.

"Honestly, as shit as it was, I was glad. I didn't have much to begin with, and all he had to offer me was a place to live, so I didn't miss much. And I couldn't live with him anymore," Laxus sighed. "It was shit, for a while. Had to sleep on the streets, got mistaken for a drunk. But I eventually got some work, it was at a brothel as a guard, but landlord gave me a room in payment. And then I just grew into my own man from there."

"It sounds like it was a blessing in disguise then," Freed commented. "Your father kicking you out, I mean."

"Oh definitely," Laxus nodded. "Anyway, I'll actually get to why I'm on the train. So, yesterday I got a letter from Paris. I hadnt spoken to Gramps since I left, so it was weird. Turns out, Gramps is sick. Pretty badly, actually."

"I'm sorry," Freed said, and it sounded genuine.

"Thanks," Laxus nodded to himself again. "The letter was from the doctor, and it explained what's wrong with him. He probably won't die from it, but life ain't gonna be easy for him. His mobility is fucking ruined, he won't be able to get his own food and look after himself for much longer. It's pretty shit. And, I know we argued a lot, but I love the old fucker. And if he's going through hell, I'm not gonna let him do it alone. So that's why I need to get to Paris as soon as I can."

"That's an admirable stance to take," Freed commented, and Laxus chuckled.

"It would be if I hadnt basically spat in his face the last time I saw him," Laxus grinned a little; he wasn't sure why.

"I won't write about it," Freed said suddenly, and Laxus frowned. "I didn't know that it was so personal, if I'm honest. It would feel as though I'm taking advantage of you if I were to publish the intimate details of your life."

"No," Laxus said quickly. "I've gotta pay you back for your help somehow, I don't mind."

"Well, I suppose we can discuss it at some point," Freed concluded, before speaking again. "I'm glad you feel comfortable speaking to me like this."

"It's nice to have someone to talk to," Laxus admitted, flushing a little. "I've… I've been on my own for a while now. Even if the situation is pretty unusual, it's nice to have someone who I can talk to about this shit. I missed it."

"Well, at least for the rest of the week, I'll be here to listen."

"Thanks, Freed," Laxus smiled a little. "G'night."

"Goodnight, Laxus."

~~~

Day Six: Morning

Laxus woke with a start. There was a loud banging coming from the door to their cabin, clearly someone knocking who wasn't willing to be patient. Laxus' eyes shot open and he looked to Freed, who had just stood up from where he was sleeping. They looked at each other for a moment, not sure of what to do. Nobody had knocked on the door as of yet, why they were doing it now?

"Mr Justine, open this door at once," An authoritative voice demanded, and Freed winced.

"The conductor," He explained with a whisper. "Get in the washroom."

Laxus nodded and climbed down the small ladder of the bed, trying to make as little noise as possible. He closed the door to the washroom with a soft click and leant his ear against it in an attempt to listen to whatever was happening. He felt a ball of nerves form in him as Freed opened the door.

"I must say, I think this behaviour is completely unacceptable," Freed said sternly, and Laxus could hear footsteps. "This is my private quarters and you have no right to disrupt me in this manner."

"Well, Mr Justine, I have reason to believe you're harbouring a stowaway."

Laxus' eyes widened, and panic flooded through him. He rested his forehead against the wall as quietly as he could. This was it; he was fucked. It wasn't as if Freed could physically stop them from opening the door, not without being suspicious enough to show he was hiding something.

"Excuse me?" Freed said, acting shocked. "Why would you think that, exactly."

"One of our maids came to your room this morning to make sure any laundry was collected. When she entered your room, she saw that there was someone sleeping in the top bunk of the bed," The conductor snapped. "And by the looks of the sheets, she seems to be correct."

"I made it explicitly clear that my room was not to be entered without my direct permission," Freed almost shouted, now sounding genuinely angry.

"And now I can see why, Mr Justine," The conductor said replied with as much hostility. "I'm sure you're aware that smuggling someone into a train is a serious crime. More so when this train travels across multiple countries."

Laxus snapped. They were threatening Freed, and it wasn't right.

The blonde opened the door to the washroom. Both Freed and the conductor snapped their heads towards Laxus at the sound of the door opening. Freed looked at him like he was mad for revealing himself, as if Freed had been handling the situation. Despite the confidence that Freed portrayed, Laxus knew what was going to happen. They would find him, and either both of them would be punished, or just Laxus. One outcome would be better than the other.

"He didn't smuggle me in," Laxus said before anyone could speak. "I snuck on without him. He didn't know I was here until we left the station in Athens."

"And would you like to explain why he wouldn't inform us of a stowaway?" The conductor said with venom in his tone, face red. He clearly wasn't happy with the situation.

"Because you would have police waiting for him at the next train station," Freed said before Laxus could speak. "The punishment would greatly outweigh the crime, if it can even be considered that. I wouldn't accept that."

"Fucks sake Freed," Laxus whispered. "Saying that shit incriminates you."

"The stowaway's intelligent," The conductor muttered sarcastically. "And you're correct, the police will be called and waiting for your little friend when we arrive in the next station later today. I imagine they will want to talk to you as well, Mr Justine."

Laxus deflated; he wouldn't get to Paris now. He had no idea what damn country he was in, let alone the actual town or city they would end up in, so there was no chance of him finding a way to his grandfather. And that was being optimistic, it was more likely that he would be locked in the closest jail until he could work off the money he would owe. He was fucked.

"Now, the two of you can either follow me to my office for the rest of the day, or I can have my man take you through in handcuffs," The conductor continued. "What would you rather-"

"What if I paid?" Freed interrupted.

"Excuse me?" The conductor snapped his head towards Freed again.

"Your only legitimate legal complaint is that Laxus didn't pay to be here, correct," Freed said, voice stern and almost authoritative. Laxus looked at him with a frown. "If I were to pay for his ticket now, then you would have nothing to be concerned about, correct?"

"Well…"

"Legally speaking, the problem would be over. There is nothing stopping him from paying at a slightly later date," Freed continued, eyes determined. "And I know your boss. Personally, too, as it goes. It's how I was able to get a private cabin. He would rather have another paying customer than a controversy, so allowing me to pay now is the better option, no?"

Laxus frowned, not knowing if this would work. When he looked over to the conductor, he looked enraged, and Freed was smirking. Laxus then understood what was happening; the conductor wanted to have him kicked off the train – most likely to fuel some sort of ego – and Freed had quickly come up with an idea to stop that. And apparently the conductor was trying and failing to come up with a way to counter Freed.

"I should warn you, Mr Justine, that it won't be cheap," The conductor eventually said. "We have to make sure we are in profit, and we can't know for sure how much he has cost us since he boarded. So, the bill will consist of a full price ticket from our first stop to our last, it will include the costs of three meals a day, as well as making accommodations for any miscellaneous costs that may arise."

"Oh for heaven's sake," Freed complained. "You're clearly taking advantage of our situation to take more than you are owed."

"Much like he would have if we hadn't found him, no?" The conductor taunted, and Freed clenched his jaw.

"I don't have that much money in cash on me," Freed said quietly, anger flaring in him.

"Well, that is a shame," The conductor was smiling wide now. "So, if you'd like to follow me-"

"But I do have proposition," Freed said before the conductor finished. "I'm a writer, as you know, and I write under the pseudonym Albion Raijin. You've heard of that name, correct?"

Laxus' eyes widened a little at Freed's admission. The name was familiar, and when Laxus looked towards the closed book on the desk, and the name was printed onto it under the title. So Freed had written the books that Laxus was enjoying? That… made sense, actually. That would be why Freed wanted to know what he thought. It also explained why he had a copy of each book in the series with him; it would have been something to do with the press tour.

"Well, yes, of course I have," The conductor grunted. "But I hardly see how that matters."

"I have a book being published later this year. It's been predicted that it will sell well. My proposal is that a percentage of the profits made from this book for the first year will be sent towards your employer. Within a month Laxus' debt will be paid; by the end of the year it will be more than fulfilled."

"And how do I know you won't deny such a deal existed the moment you leave this train?" The conductor crossed his arms. "You've proven yourself not to be trustworthy, Mr Justine."

"There's a lawyer aboard, a Miss Heartfilia. She can write a contract that would enforce this deal, I'm sure," Freed said with certainty. He looked at the conductor, and then he sighed. "I'm sure she could also write a clause that would direct a further percentage directly into your wallet."

There was a moment of silence.

"Five percent," The conductor muttered.

"No," Freed stood firm. "The most you'll get is three."

Laxus looked at Freed in disbelief.

He was just giving away his money for Laxus' sake. The worst punishment Freed could get for 'harbouring' Laxus would be a fine, he was rich and could pay bail after all. The fine wouldn't be nearly as much as he was willing to give away just to keep Laxus on the train. It was… kind. So kind. It was perhaps more kindness than Laxus had been given in years. It felt unearned.

"Freed," Laxus muttered. "You don't need to do this."

"Quiet," Freed demanded. "Your grandfather is a good man, correct?"

"Yes," Laxus mumbled.

"Then you should be there for him," Freed said, before looking at the conductor again. "Do we have a deal?"

The conductor took a moment to think again. "I'll try to find Miss Heartfilia."

The portly man turned on his heel and left the room, not bothering to close the door behind him. Freed ended up closing it, and Laxus sat on the bottom bunk with his head in his hands. He deflated as relief flooded through him; both the anxiety of their conversation with the conductor and the underlying stress Laxus had felt since the moment he entered the train station in Athens leaving him. It was an odd feeling; he couldn't define it.

"You did not need to do that," Laxus said into his hands, looking up to Freed. "That's a fuck load of money you just gave away for a guy you don't know. That's really generous. You didn't… why did you do that?"

"Most of my family have disowned me, after they found out about my sexuality," Freed explained, sitting at the desk. "The only person who didn't was my uncle. He died, and I wasn't there to say goodbye to him. Thinking of it makes me ache, and if I can make sure it doesn't happen to you then I will."

"Well, thanks," Laxus didn't know what else to say. "So… You're the author, huh? You were pretty hard on him- well, yourself I guess. I didn't see you as the self-loathing kind."

"I'm not," Freed chuckled. "I just found it amusing you hadnt figured it out and wanted to play up to it."

"So you just did it to amuse yourself?" Laxus laughed when Freed nodded. "You are…. the oddest man I think I've met."

"I take that as a compliment," Freed smiled. "I assume you'll be looking forward to leaving the cabin and eating three meals a day again."

"You have no damn idea," Laxus groaned at the thought.

"Well, with how vastly we're overpaying for our time here, from this point on we will both live and eat like kings," Freed smirked, and Laxus copied the action. So this was how Freed was going to get this money back? Laxus could more than get on board with it.

"Looking forward to it," The blonde grinned.

~~~

Day Six: Evening.

"This actually doesn't fit me that badly," Laxus said as he looked at himself in the mirror.

He was wearing a suit that didn't belong to him fit with a waistcoat, pocket watch and tie. Freed had taken it from one of the suitcases stored in the luggage cart, giving it to Laxus so that he could be dressed correctly as they went to dinner.

When Laxus had asked why Freed had a suit of this size, he had explained that, while in Greece, he had collected a selection of clothing for his friend Bickslow. Bickslow was apparently a fashion-conscious man who knew of a designer who only sold his clothes in Greece and he had all but begged Freed to get him as many suits as his trunk could contain. He was also relatively similar in stature to Laxus, meaning that the blonde could wear these clothes without looking absurd. They were a little snug, but okay.

And Laxus was glad to be wearing something other than the ratty outfit he'd worn over the past few weeks.

"High class clothing rather suits you," Freed commented as he began to tie his hair. "You should consider investing in some suits of that type."

"If you've got a way for me to pay for it, then by all means," Laxus chuckled. After a moment of silence, he spoke again. "I'm a little anxious about going out there, if I'm honest."

"Why so?" Freed asked with a small frown.

"Everyone's gonna know who I am," Laxus sighed. "The stowaway bastard who got caught sneaking around. They're all gonna be fucking looking at me – judging me – and I don't know if I can handle it."

"Well, that is ridiculous," Freed said, almost sternly. "You have just as much right as anyone to be in that dining cart. If they disagree, to hell with their opinion. You're here with me, not them."

"I guess but…" Laxus sighed. "It's fucking embarrassing, okay. I'm a charity case in a train full of snobs."

"You are not a charity case, I can assure you of that," Freed said, voice firm and unwilling to accept any other interpretation of the situation. "And after dealing with these people for six days, I can also assure you that they are nothing. A mess of socialites, idiots with money, and inflated egos. Their opinions are redundant, as they don't have the intellectual capacity to understand anything that they haven't lived through. And for the few exceptions to those rules, they will undoubtedly find you charming."

"Do you find me charming?" Laxus asked. He didn't know why, exactly.

"Of course," Freed replied honestly. "You're different to most people I've met. They consider a minor tax increase as an afront to their human rights. You, on the other hand, are a real person with his feet firmly attached to the ground."

"You sound pissed off at the people you know," Laxus laughed, and Freed sighed.

"Some of them are tolerable. Others try to commission me to write a letter of complaint to the tax office because they lost a minuscule amount of their yearly earnings," Freed smirked a little. "He was not happy when I wrote perhaps the most sarcastic letter in history and then demanded my payment."

"Sounds like a good read," Laxus grinned.

"I've framed it and hung it above my fireplace. It's one of my most prized possessions," Freed grinned. "If you have time, I could perhaps show it to you when we get to Paris."

Laxus smiled a little at the invitation. He hadn't considered the possibility that he and Freed would remain in contact after they left the train, but if they were both going to be living in Paris then there was probably no reason as to why they couldn't. Even if it was something as little as a monthly trip to a café together, Laxus would probably enjoy it.

"Now," Freed continued, voice harsh. "Your anxiety about this is worthless. If any of those people do have a problem, they wouldn't dare say it in fear of making a scene. So as long as you don't allow yourself to be affected by it, it's not there."

"I guess that's true," Laxus nodded, though wasn't convinced.

"Of course it is," Freed nodded. "You ready?"

Laxus nodded, and Freed left the cabin with the blonde following him. It was weird to leave the cabin after being trapped inside of it for nearly six full days. It was almost therapeutic for the blonde to walk down the corridor of the sleeper cart, both in that it allowed him to see things that he wasn't already incredibly familiar with, as well as allowing him to properly stretch his legs. He hadnt realised how cooped up he had felt in the cabin. Though, the cabin was a lot more appealing when he didn't have a choice about leaving it.

Freed led him through the train and to the dining cart, which was partially filled with people. Laxus hadnt taken time to appreciate just how lavish the train was when he first entered it. The cart was decorated with gold ornaments, it had waiters pouring expensive wine, and had a general feeling of wealth.

When the two men entered, a fair amount of people looked towards them. The stowaway and the famous author; what other reaction could Laxus have hoped for?

Freed didn't seem affected by the gazes and glances they were receiving, instead walking through the rows of tables to one at the end of the cart. Freed sat at the table and motioned for Laxus to do the same with the chair opposite him. Laxus did so, wondering if Freed had purposefully made it so that Laxus had his back to the rest of the dining cart. If he did, Laxus was thankful of the action, because he did feel more comfortable without seeing people looking at him.

"Take your time with the menu," Freed said, tapping his cigar against the case before lighting it.

"You know what you're ordering?" Laxus asked, frowning a little.

"The menu is the same every night, I've become quite familiar with it," Freed explained, beckoning a waiter over. The waiter filled both of their glasses with red wine.

Laxus quickly looked over the menu, to see a number of luxury dishes for him to try. His stomach growled at the prospect of eating any of them; a small part of Laxus wondered if he would have had time to try all of them if he had been found out earlier in the week. He didn't say that, of course, as Freed was being kind enough to pay for all of this out of his own pocket. Complaining about not getting enough luxury food would just be too far.

"Is it nice to be outside of the room?" Freed asked when Laxus placed the menu down, having made his choice.

"It's great," Laxus smiled a little, taking a sip of the wine. It didn't taste that different from the crap wine that he served to drunks in Athens. "I think if I had to stay in there any longer I might have gone a little stir crazy."

"Really, I thought a man of your size would have loved being trapped in a relatively small space," Freed chuckled, placing the cigar on an ashtray and taking a sip of the wine. "And I'm sure you would have managed if you had to. You survived off half of a breakfast for your entire daily intake; you're clearly quite a resilient man."

"Thanks," Laxus ducked his head a little. "But it was more than half of the breakfast. Thanks for that, by the way. Especially when I was acting like a tool, you didn't need to do it."

Freed paused, looking at Laxus inquisitively. "You have issues with taking compliments, don't you Laxus?"

Laxus paused for a moment, taken aback by his observation. One of the many waiters approached them before Laxus could reply to what Freed said, and the author gave his order without blinking: a beef wellington with a side of fried potatoes, gravy, and mixed vegetables. Slightly blindsided, Laxus ordered as well: a steak with a cheese sauce, garlic mushrooms and mashed potatoes. The waiter left a moment later, promising that their food would be out soon. The fact he would be eating something other than breakfast food made Laxus' stomach growl again.

As they waited for their food to arrive, they spoke almost constantly. Freed was apparently a natural conversationalist and managed to make Laxus feel comfortable in a situation that was completely foreign to him.

The wine might have helped with that.

When their food did come, it looked incredible. The portions were larger than Laxus had expected, and it looked cooked to perfection. Laxus shouldn't have expected anything else, and he picked up his fork immediately to start eating. As he brought a forkful of steak to his lips, he glanced towards Freed, who was looking at him with a smile.

"Should I have waited?" Laxus asked, eyebrows furrowing.

"No," Freed shook his head slightly, cutting up his beef wellington. "It's just interesting to see you outside the confines of the cabin. And to see you smiling; I didn't want to say anything, but the stress of the situation was showing. It's nice to see you a little relaxed."

"Well, it's thanks to you. I really am grateful for what you did earlier," Laxus smiled, a little guilty.

"You've said. And you really don't need to thank me so often. If I hadn't acted I would have been a hypocrite and I refuse to let that happen," Freed smiled. "So, I propose that we toast the situation, and then speak no more of it."

"I guess," Laxus nodded, raising his wine glass. Freed did the same and clinked it against Laxus'.

After that, conversation began again. It was loose and easy, the two joking with each other. Freed did most of the talking, as Laxus was focusing mainly on the food before him. His stomach was more than grateful for having a real meal, and he was going to enjoy every damn bite of it. Freed seemed to notice this, and had a waiter bring an extra portion of potatoes and mushrooms. Laxus would have argued, but his stomach wouldn't allow it.

By the time dessert was served – a small chocolate pudding alongside a bowl of apple pie and custard – Laxus had almost entirely forgotten about his previous misgivings and anxieties about entering the dining room. If people did look at him, he was no longer bothered by it.

Again, the bottle of wine they shared between them might have helped with that.

They ate and drank deep into the evening, and by the time their meal was completed the sun had set and the train was illuminated by candlelight. It was atmospheric, and rather nice to look at. A fleeting thought said that it was almost romantic, but Laxus dismissed it immediately. Before he could dwell on it, Freed suggested they retire for the night and return to their cabin. Laxus agreed.

The walk back down the train was a little hazy, again due to the wine. The fact the train's cabins were almost identical didn't help either.

"Hey Freed," Laxus said, voice a little bedraggled as Freed opened the door to their cabin.

"Yes?"

"So, being… gay isn't just fucking guy's right? It's romance and kissing too?"

"It depends on the person," Freed explained, frowning a little at the sudden question. "For some people, romance is a big part of it. Other people are too afraid of being found out, and only act on their base desires rather than romantic. But yes, for me it's more than just sex."

Laxus thought for a moment, watching as Freed closed the door.

The second it was closed, Laxus pushed Freed up against it and started to kiss him.

It was an unfamiliar feeling – the women Laxus had kissed in the past had softer lips – and the feeling of Freed against his was unusual but not bad. Instead, it was actually better than his experience with women. When he kissed back, Freed had a little more bite to his actions, was less passive than the women Laxus seemed to attract, and Laxus found himself liking that a lot more than he thought he would. It was good.

After a few seconds, Laxus felt Freed's hands on his chest, pushing him away slightly. When they pulled apart, Freed had an almost concerned expression on his face.

"What are you doing?" Freed whispered, both confused and worried.

"I need to see something," Laxus murmured, voice unsure. "Just, I need to- let me do this."

He kissed Freed again, and Freed kissed him back.

~~~

Day Seven: Morning

When Laxus woke, it was with Freed in his arms.

A momentary flood of panic filled him, and the memories of what he and Freed had done came to him. He had gotten a little drunk over dinner, and Laxus had started to see Freed in a different light that was less than platonic. When they returned to their cabin, Laxus had felt weirdly confident in his confused feelings and had pushed Freed against the door and kissed him before the confidence could leave him.

Kissed him. Nothing more.

They had moved their kissing to the lower bed, and Laxus had a vague memory of running his hands over the man's body. It had been strong, powerful, almost intimidating but equally inviting. It was different to what Laxus was used to in a lover; perhaps better. But other than slight groping, nothing more happened. Freed had stopped him, claiming Laxus wasn't thinking straight, and the blonde had fallen asleep before he could protest.

Laxus was really fucking thankful for him doing that. Because, as he looked at the man sleeping in his arms, it felt as if the ball of nerves that had been slowly building inside of him had burst. Panic started to fill him.

He and Freed had kissed.

A lot.

Laxus had wanted to take the man to bed for god's sake! He wanted to have sex with a man!

His breathing started to get shorter and shorter, eyes widening at he looked down at Freed again. The man who he nearly had sex with. Panic flooding him, he removed himself from Freed's bunk as quickly as he could. He probably could have been more careful, but as he paced around the cabin with a level of fear rushing across him, whether Freed was awake or not was the last thing on his mind.

He ran his hand through his hair, walking towards the washroom. He filled a bowl with cold water and dunked his head into it, the shock of the temperature change momentarily freezing him. His panic lessoned a little, but not enough to calm him down.

"Laxus," Freed's tries voice said, but the blonde ignored him. "Laxus, look at me."

When Laxus payed no mind to the man, Freed walked to him, took his head between his hands and forced eye contact with him. Despite the fact that Freed was essentially the reason for this panic attack, it was weirdly calming to see his face. His breathing calmed slightly, and Freed gave him a soft smile.

"Take your time," Freed continued, voice calming. "When you're ready, I want you to lie down and close your eyes. It'll calm you down."

Laxus allowed Freed to guide him to the bed, laid down and closed his eyes. As Freed had said, it was a weirdly effective remedy for his panic attack. The slight juddering of the train moving was therapeutic, along with the pseudo-silence of the passing sounds of nature coming from the open window of their cabin. Still making an effort to keep his breathing steady, Laxus felt the brunt of his anxiety fade away. He was still thinking about what had happened and had no idea what was going to happen going forward, but he was at least not on the brink of having a breakdown.

When he opened his eyes, he saw that Freed had turned the desk chair around and was looking at him with an expression that was either regretful of pitying; perhaps a mixture of both. He offered Laxus a glass of water, which he took.

"If it makes you feel better," Freed began, voice calm and soothing. "I promise what happened will remain between the two of us. Nobody will know, and you can work on forgetting it."

The promise should have been more comforting than it was. Because, knowing Freed, he would make sure that nobody knew, and it would end up being something Laxus would only have to push to the back of his mind. And yet, the feeling left a dull sensation in his stomach. Something akin to disappointment…

He had enjoyed kissing Freed. And he had wanted to take it further.

Where that thought had scared him before, it now left him confused.

"I don't want to forget it," Laxus said, sitting up. "At least, I think I don't. I don't really know what I'm feeling about it."

"Well, as someone who has been in that situation, I might be able to help," Freed offered, and Laxus let out a small, tentative nod. "I can imagine that was at least your first time doing such a thing with another man. Have you ever considered the fact you might have an interest in men before, or is this the first time?"

"No," Laxus shook his head. "It's all new. I'm kinda scared, honestly."

"That's okay, it's natural," Freed said, patting Laxus' hand. "I don't know if this will help, but there is categorically nothing wrong with being gay. The people who say otherwise are incorrect, bigoted and simply cruel."

Laxus wished that helped more than it did.

"Furthermore, the concept of being attracted to men is not as… binary as you might think," Freed patted his hand. "For example, just because you might want to kiss a man, it doesn't mean you don't want to kiss women as well. It is different for every person, to some extent. It might take some time to discover who exactly you are, and that's okay."

"Thanks," Laxus murmured, nodding a little. That was comforting, actually. "How did you do that?"

"Experimentation, predominantly," Freed explained. "I tried to engage in romances and sexual encounters with women, and with men when I could. I could be platonically close to women, but not romantically nor sexually. But with these men, it was different. It felt better; both exhilarating and comfortable."

"Right…" Laxus nodded.

Experimenting, as Freed had called it, seemed like the right thing to do. But it wasn't as if Laxus knew how to find these men. He knew that, if you looked in the right places, there would be a tavern where you could find a man to take to bed. But, if he was honest, Laxus wanted to date. To marry, at some point.

Admittedly, doing that with a man would be difficult, but the point was that he wanted a life partner. He was a romantic traditionalist; ironic given the situation he found himself in.

Freed looked at him with a concerned expression. "I have a suggestion."

"Go ahead," Laxus mumbled.

"Well, you only kissed me last night after I told you that men could be romantic together as well as sexual. So you seem to want to date someone. And you have some kind of attraction to me, and I to you," Freed explained slowly. "So what if, for the rest of the time we're here, we act as a couple. When we go to dinner tonight we class it as a date rather than simply a meal between friends, we can kiss at the end of the night if you wish, and perhaps even share the bed again if you feel comfortable. And then tomorrow, when we leave the train, we can discuss how you're feeling. If you wish to forget it, we can. If you wish to break contact with me and not speak again, we can. But if you wish to continue something romantic between us, we can do that too."

Laxus thought for a moment. "Are you sure you wanna do that? I mean…"

A lot of reasons as to why Freed wouldn't want to do that came to mind. For one, it would almost feel as if he were leading Freed on if he decided men weren't where his interests lay. And even if they were, would Freed want to be with someone going through something this big? Hell, would Freed want to be with someone so under his station? Freed was a gentleman and a scholar – literally so – whereas Laxus was a homeless criminal.

"Laxus, I've been where you are and I know how hard it can be," Freed smiled. "And, I'm attracted to you. You're a handsome man, with a brilliant personality and, honestly, you're a good kisser."

Laxus laughed. "You really think so? Nobody ever said that before."

"Well, the women you have kissed clearly don't appreciate a good man when presented with one," Freed said firmly.

"I'm a good man, huh?" Laxus said with a small frown.

"I'd be proud to have you on my arm," Freed said, unblinking.

It was a minor compliment, but it made Laxus feel… giddy. Laxus couldn't remember the last time he had been given a compliment like that, not one by someone who didn't have some kind of ulterior motive at least. It was almost pathetic how wide his smile was at the small phrase, and the blush on his cheeks didn't help.

"Well," Laxus said, smiling a little nervously. "Tonight I will be."

~~~

Day Seven: Evening

Sitting at the bar with Freed was a really good feeling, actually. Laxus had initially been a bit nervous, not entirely sure what a 'date' would be like with Freed – he wasn't comfortable kissing Freed in front of people, and he didn't know if Freed would want to do that – but he was actually enjoying it. Freed was respectful, and although there wasn't a particularly big difference in how they were acting around each other, it did have a different feeling. A little more charged.

Freed was more happy to give compliments and did so openly. Mainly they were about his personality, but there was a few on his looks. He said them confidentially, and Laxus had been a little concerned the first few times, but nobody seemed to care. Laxus wondered if Freed had perfected what personal compliments he could say before they were found out.

Honestly, despite how utterly stupid it was to think this way, Laxus kind of liked the risk.

He didn't know what would happen if they were caught and refused to let it happen. He was honestly terrified by the idea of someone other than Freed knowing about his potential feeling for men.

But, some small and twisted part of him was excited. They had a secret, and they were kind of flaunting it.

"You know, I was thinking actually," Freed spoke with a glass of gin in his hand. "It's sort of ironic that I agreed to help you because I wanted an interesting story to write about, and I'm considering actually writing about our time on the train."

"Really?" Laxus frowned.

"I think it would make for a good story," Freed shrugged. "I'd of course have to make some changes, add more suspense to everything. Other alterations to make it more marketable."

The emphasis on the word marketable made Laxus relax. From what he knew about Freed's publisher, he wouldn't consider two men dating in any way marketable, so Freed was probably trying to suggest that the romantic part of their journey wouldn't be involved in Freed's writing. That was good because, despite it being almost impossible to tie Freed's writing to Laxus, he didn't want to tempt fate in them being found out.

"Well, I mean I ain't a writer, but if you need any help from me then just ask," Laxus offered, and Freed smiled.

"I might just do that," He said as he emptied the rest of his drink. "It's a little warm in here. There's a small outdoor area where we boarded, it acts like a balcony in transit. Would you like to go there before we retire for the night?"

"Sounds fine," Laxus nodded.

The two men walked through the drinking carriage and to the door at the end, where they entered a small metal platform at the rear of the vehicle. The night sky was cloudless, and stars shone brightly, illuminating the tracks. The wind was a little choppy, and after Laxus closed the door, Laxus understood why Freed had taken him out here.

The wind would block out any conversation to anyone trying to listen in on them, making it perhaps the most private part on the train. Freed leant on the metal railing, the wind flowing through his hair as he looked to Laxus.

"So," He began. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm okay," Laxus nodded a little, joining Freed while resting on the railing. "The meal was good, and the drinks are pretty nice. And you know that I like being around you-"

"I more meant how you are doing in general," Freed corrected, smiling softly. "It can't be overstated how stressful a situation this can be for a person. You seem to be taking it well, and I just wondered if you're actually okay or just internalising it."

"It's messing me up, honestly," Laxus sighed. He hadnt wanted to admit it to Freed; it was rude to interrupt a date with his own problems. "I don't really know what I'm feeling. It's kinda like I'm numb. I feel like I should be really freaked out by all of this, but I'm not. But I am panicked, just not as much as I should be. I was more panicked about getting caught by the police in the train station even though this is kinda worse so…"

"That seems good, I think," Freed said, comfortingly. "You've always seemed rather pragmatic about yourself. Perhaps you've realised that this is part of who you are, and you've accepted it on some level."

"Maybe I have," Laxus shrugged. "Or maybe I'm just taking it as it comes. Acting on instinct, it's what I've always done."

"It seems to have worked for you so far," Freed grinned a little. "So, as I interrupted you before, how do you think this date is going?"

"I'm really enjoying it actually," Laxus admitted, a little flushed as he spoke. In his past relationships, his opinions of things weren't overly considered. "It's a little weird knowing you're another man, but honestly, it's been fun. You're a good guy to go on a date with."

"I try my best," Freed laughed.

"Well, you're good at it," Laxus muttered. "You enjoying it? I kinda think this is more about me than you, feel a little guilty."

"Well you shouldn't. You're going through a lot. Besides, I'm enjoying myself. You're good company," He grin took a small wicked glint. "And you really shouldn't feel guilty. Because right now, those trousers are shaping around your arse to perfection and I am more than making the best of it."

"Shut up," Laxus muttered, flushing red. Nobody had ever given him a compliment like that before!

"Oh don't get coy now, Laxus," Freed chuckled. "I know a man who does squats when I see one. You've cultivated your arse to look like that, at least let me enjoy it."

Laxus laughed a bit, unable to meet Freed's eyes. He was unashamedly complimenting him on his body, something that had never happened with any of his relationships with women. Honestly, as weirdly pathetic as this felt, Laxus enjoyed having this amount of attention on him. While he was blushing, he did allow a smile to grace his features.

"Well, you ain't bad looking either," Laxus mumbled. "At least to me, but I'm no expert on what makes a man look good."

"You've managed to make yourself look incredibly handsome, don't be so hard on yourself," Freed chuckled.

Laxus couldn't say anything, out of fear that he would stutter and make a fool of himself. Freed simply let out a small and teasing laugh, which Laxus didn't mind; over the last week Freed had proven himself to be non-judgmental on the important things. They stayed out for a little while longer before the chill got too cold to take, and they both agreed that it would be best to return to their cabin for the night. It was getting late, after all.

As they did, Laxus did something he wasn't particularly proud of. Freed was walking in front of him, and Laxus allowed his eyes to stray down to the writer's ass. It was weird, and Laxus felt his stomach flip a little. He knew what the feeling was. He was turned on by the man and was confident about it. He didn't say anything until they reached the door and Freed unlocked the cabin.

"Don't stop me this time," Laxus whispered into his ear before they entered the room. "Because I know I want this."

~~~

Day Seven: Night (N S F W)

Kissing Freed was amazing, Laxus had concluded.

He was rough and strong with his movements, almost as if he saw the kiss as a challenge. His hands were resting deep in his blonde hair, tugging at it occasionally and making Laxus groan at the feeling. Whenever he had kissed someone before it had felt like he was doing all the work, but right now he was feeling great. There was so much more going on than in his past kisses; so much more to feel and enjoy.

Freed dragged him to the bottom bunk of the bed. Freed sat, and Laxus lowered himself to maintain the kiss. Again on instinct, Laxus found his hands roaming the other man's body, and it ignited a fire. There was so much power in him, so much strength.

God it was hot.

Freed didn't stop him this time, instead his hands started to roam over Laxus' body. He pulled the dinner jacket off Laxus, throwing it to the floor, and the act of having a piece of his outfit being taken off him sent a thrill down Laxus. It was happening, he was going to fuck another man, and the idea of it was exhilarating. His dick strained in his trousers.

Laxus was just as eager, pulling off Freed's jacket with less elegance than Freed had. He quickly unbuttoned the man's waistcoat, and that was thrown to the floor as well. Freed pulled his lips away from Laxus, looked at him for a moment, then grinned.

He had been checking if Laxus was truly into this. He definitely was.

Freed's lips were suddenly on his neck, and an unfamiliar sensation of sucking and nibbling sensation overtook the blonde. The skin on his neck was more sensitive that he thought it could be, and the feeling of Freed almost attacking it with his tongue and teeth was incredible. This was all so fucking overwhelming in the best damn way.

"Shit," Laxus let out a whine.

"Laxus," Freed whispered, pulling his lips away from his neck. "You know idea how much I would love to hear your moans and watch you lose control, but I need you to be quiet. We'll get caught otherwise."

"Yeah, of course. Sorry," Laxus whispered.

"If it helps, I could gag you with one of my ties," Freed teased, and the threat sent a pulse of intense arousal straight to Laxus' dick.

He had never been with a lover like this before. One who had a little bite to them, who could challenge Laxus and make him feel good. This wasn't going to be just him pleasuring another person, it was going to be the two of them making each other feel good. And Laxus was so fucking ready to make himself and Freed feel good.

With slightly stumbling hands, he worked on undoing the buttons to Freed's shirt and pulled it off. The expanse of strong muscle was so fucking hot to Laxus in a way the blonde didn't understand, and Laxus felt overcome by instincts.

He moved them both fully onto the bed. Freed was lying face up, Laxus was over him on all fours.

Laxus ripped open his shirt and tossed it to the side before kissing him again, their strong bodies pushed against each other. The feeling of Freed's abs and pecs rubbing against his own body was almost orgasmic, and the blonde relished every moment of it. How he was so turned on by something so unfamiliar with was beyond Laxus, but he didn't care. He was following his instincts on this, and they were screaming at him to ravish this man.

With slightly unsure movements, he began to grope the other man over his trousers. The feeling of another man's hard cock against his hand was unusual, but the fact it quivered in his hand spurred Laxus on. He was making Freed feel good, and Laxus loved that.

His eyes shot open a moment later when he felt hands on his own tenting crotch. Freed was taking his trousers off for him; a feeling so incredible that Laxus felt a small trickle of pre-cum leak from the tip of his dick.

God he wanted this so much.

After Freed had pushed the blonde' trousers down as far as possible, Laxus kicked them off to the floor. Now only in his briefs, he started to work on Freed's belt and pulling his own trousers downs. Laxus didn't have the same level of subtlety – nor patience – that Freed had, taking the man's briefs down with his trousers.

Laxus looked at the naked man before him. He was sweating, his strong muscles flexing, dick straining hard. He was looking at Laxus with a small smirk, clearly knowing how much Laxus was enjoying this.

Fuck: looking at Freed like this confirmed one thing. He definitely wanted to fuck this man.

Laxus was kissing him a moment later, his underwear-clad cock rubbing against Freed's. The feeling was unusual and incredible, and Laxus was running more and more out of patience. He pulled away from Freed, cheeks red as he looked deep into his eyes. God, this was a form of intimacy that he had never felt with another person, and he was loving it.

"Can I- I mean do you mind if I-," Laxus didn't know how to phrase it.

He gestures to the hard dick in his briefs, and Freed smirked. He reached down and slid the man's briefs down his legs again, tossing them to the ground and giving a single, hard tug. Laxus grinded his teeth together so he didn't moan loud enough to be heard.

"There's some lotion in my suitcase," Freed whispered. "Give it to me."

Laxus reached over to Freed's suitcase, climbing off the man. His pupils dilated as he got a better look at the man he had just been on top of. He looked fucking incredible, with his stomach expanding slightly with every breath and showing off his gorgeous abs. His chest was perfectly defined, his thighs shockingly strong looking, his dick hard and long with two equally large balls below it. The sight of another man naked was so unusual to Laxus, but fuck did he love it.

He found the lotion and handed it to Freed, who emptied a large amount of it into his hand. Laxus watched with wide eyes as Freed brought his hand to Laxus' dick, slowly stroking it and lathering it with the lotion. His movements were purposeful and drove Laxus wild.

He was pushing his forehead against the top bunk, trying desperately not to moan.

"I can finish you off like this," Freed whispered, voice a little ragged. "But if you want, we can go further. I assume you know how men would fuck."

Laxus nodded and climbed atop Freed with a grin. He had gone this far and knew that if Freed did finish him with his hands, it would be the best orgasm he had had in years. But Laxus wanted to make Freed feel as good as he was feeling, and if buggering him was the way to do it then Laxus would gladly do so.

Freed turned himself over so that he was face down in the bed, and Laxus was presented with the fucking faultless sight of Freed's strong back and firm, round ass. It was incredibly enticing.

"Before you start, I need something to cum into," Freed whispered, and Laxus frowned. "Unless you want explain stains to the maid."

Laxus nodded, looking around for something in arms reach. He saw that his own briefs were close, and the idea of Freed jizzing into his underwear filled Laxus with an almost animalistic lust. He wanted to see that happen, wanted to be the one responsible for that happening, and picked up his briefs to hand to Freed before he could stop himself. The other man took them and slowly began to pump his dick with them on his hand.

"Start slowly," Freed instructed. "But once you get a rhythm, the speed is up to you. I can take it."

Laxus nodded, looking at his lotion covered dick. Taking a breath to ready himself, he placed his dick in front of Freed's ass and slowly pushed inside.

It was orgasmic.

The tightness of the man around him was indescribable, and was the most overwhelming, intense feeling the blonde had ever gone though. The further he pushed in, the better if felt, and the slight moan from Freed – who had been restrained up until this point – made everything so much better. This was so good.

He slowly started to move his hips back and forth, getting used to the feeling. It was insanely erotic, intense to a degree Laxus had never felt before. His nerves were on fire, and his mind went numb. It was brilliant.

Lowering his body to get closer to Freed, he started to get into a rhythm with his thrusts. He got faster, gyrating his hips carefully. Freed was pumping his own dick with Laxus' briefs, and the feeling of Freed jutting against him was incredible. It was so good, so much better than he had ever felt.

He was getting faster and faster, the intensity of the brilliance of the situation spurring him on.

The orgasm was already threatening to overtake him, but he wanted to hold on. Freed had been so good to him, so kind, and he was so fucking sexy like this. Laxus wanted to make this as good as he could for the man, and his hips started to thrust with great speed. When he looked down to Freed, the man looked at him with a grin, a tiny moan leaving his lips.

Both turning their heads, Freed pulled Laxus into a kiss. Laxus' thrusts still got faster, and Freed pushed against it while he wanked himself off.

Suddenly, Freed moaned into their kiss, eyes widening. Laxus knew what was happening.

Before he could come to terms with the fact he had brought Freed to orgasm – the fact he was spilling his seed in Laxus' briefs was a sickly incredible feeling – Freed seemed to clench his entire body. The feeling of increased tightness around his dick finally sent Laxus over the edge, and the orgasm filled all his senses.

It was like the world itself had been rocked. It was incredible.

Laxus had never felt so good, so turned on, so satisfied. It only lasted a few moments, but it was fucking insane.

Exhaustion suddenly overtook him, and Laxus felt himself collapse on the man. Freed brought Laxus' briefs to his own ass, helping Laxus remove his dick without spilling any of their cum on the bed. They shifted slightly in their positions, and Freed tossed the cum stained underwear into his open suitcase, so they were out of the way, but not able to stain anything in the cabin itself.

As they lay in the same bunk, Laxus couldn't say he was sure if he was attracted to all men.

But he sure as hell knew he was attracted to Freed. And if he got his way, that wouldn't be the last time they fucked. Because they were doing that again!

~~~

Day Eight: Morning

Getting off the train was weird. Laxus was confronted with the cold air of Paris in the wintertime, the brisk chill of a wind going through his hair as he walked through the train station, and his legs slightly unstable on unmoving ground.

He stood beside Freed, holding one of the man's two suitcases as they walked side by side; Freed had said that he didn't need to carry his luggage, but Laxus insisted that it was the absolute least he could do. Freed went to argue, but Laxus pointed out that Freed had even given him one of Bickslow's suits to keep and that doing something as small as lifting his bags was nothing in comparison to that. Freed hadnt been able to argue after that.

"So," Freed said as they left the train station. "What are your plans now?"

"Well, I sent gramps a letter the day I left, so hopefully it got to him by now," Laxus shrugged. "So go to his flat, see how I can help out. Then try and get a job, see what happens from there."

"So you'll live with your grandfather then?"

"It's the only place I've got," Laxus shrugged. "It ain't exactly the biggest flat in the world, only got one bedroom which he gave to me as a kid. Obviously he's gonna need to keep that, so I guess I'll be on the sofa. But I can deal with that."

Freed hummed contemplatively. As the writer thought, Laxus looked around Paris again. It looked different form the last time he had been there; with more decorations on the streets and a general feeling of luxury living. He doubted that the part of Paris he lived in would be as nice as this – it had never been an affluent area – but it was better than he remembered. And weirdly, it almost felt as if he was coming home.

He vaguely remembered where he was going, and Freed seemed to be going in the same direction as him. They walked the cobbled streets side by side, walking past cafés and eateries, watching painters beside the river. It felt like a postcard version of France.

"Where does he live?" Freed asked.

"Erm, the building's called Rosemary Court," Laxus frowned a little as he tried to remember his grandfather's address. "It's in Square de la Couronne."

"I know it well, actually. I have an apartment in Boulevard Gambetta. It's about half an hour's walk away from your grandfather's house," Freed commented. "We could meet up sometime, if you'd like."

"Sound's nice," Laxus looked to him, smiling a little. "In… the same way we did last night, right?"

"I'd like that," Freed smiled, and a warm feeling flooded through Laxus. "You know, I do actually have a spare bedroom, if you ever need a night away from your grandfather, or wish to sleep in an actual bed, I'm more than willing to accommodate you for the night."

"I might take you up on that," Laxus said with a smile.

When he thought about that, a sudden rush of confidence flooded through him. At the start of the week, he and Freed hadn't known one another and Laxus hadnt considered the possibility he might be attracted to a man. And now, he was in some kind of relationship with him. And that was a fact that Laxus loved. Because he really cared for Freed, despite how they had only known each other for a short time.

While they were on the train, Freed had always been making accommodations for him. He helped him stay safe in the cabin and walked him through the realisation he wasn't as straight as he first thought. But now Laxus knew what he needed to: he was attracted to Freed and enjoyed his company. And now he wasn't trapped with him, their relationship had changed slightly.

And now it was Laxus' time to pull his own weight.

"But, you know, if I were to come to yours then I wouldn't wanna put you to any trouble," Laxus shrugged. "I imagine making up a whole other bed would be a lot of effort."

Freed raised an eyebrow, a little taken aback by the sudden confidence from the blonde.

"It would be quite troubling to do that," Freed agreed with a small smirk. "Perhaps we could find a way where only one bed would be used."

"Maybe we could," Laxus said with a small smirk. That was the first time he had flirted with a man, and he enjoyed it. He also enjoyed the fact Freed had flirted back; he was almost like a verbal sparring partner. That was good. "But, it could take some time. We should dedicate some time to, y'know, thrash everything out."

"I was counting on it," Freed smirked, having picked on the double entendre. "A full night at least, no doubt."

"Maybe a couple days," Laxus shrugged, grinning.

They looked towards each other, both with grins on their faces. They continued to walk side by side further into Paris, and Laxus felt a chill run down his spine when their knuckles grazed one another. He couldn't believe that this was how his life was progressing.

He couldn't believe how much he liked it. Because, even though he knew his life would be harder from now on, he didn't care. Because he felt whole in a way he hadnt before. Maybe it was being back in Paris where he felt he belonged, maybe it was because he had come to terms with something he had never considered before, and maybe it was because he had a romantic partner that thrilled him like nobody else had.

But one thing was certain. Despite everything that had happened, this had been a good week. Perhaps the best week he'd had in years, and Laxus was cautiously optimistic as to what the rest of his life held.

The rest of his life in Paris. With Freed as both his friend and perhaps his lover.