The Bellows and The Boy

Fraser suppressed a snicker and crossed his arms again, contemplating Osbourne and his posture on the couch.

"Well, you really are the king of your own little castle, aren't you?" he teased, wondering if Osbourne's friend Averey spoke so to his 'Birdie' as a prelude to the noisy quaking of their bed. He stayed in place at first, drawing out the moment with a thoughtful gaze that travelled up and down the big man's body.

Abruptly he dropped down into all fours with a goofy grin on his face and crawled over to Osbourne until he was kneeling between his knees.

"Oh yes... I think I could show my gratitude, and enjoy a treat at the same time," he whispered, his mouth a breath away from the fat tip of Osbourne's cock. "Woof."

He started with a series of slow kisses and long licks before wrapping his lips fully around the shaft and sucking hungrily.
 
“That’s my good boy,” Ozzy said with a breathy chuckle as he reached down to mess Fraser’s hair before taking those luscious curls into his fist. Gently, he guided the boy’s movements, pressing his head down ever so slightly then pulling him back only to press back down again, all the while appreciating the boy’s eager suction. “Such a good boy...no wonder I wish to keep you,” he mused as his head rolled back to rest against the sofa.

Eyes closed, Ozzy allowed himself to get lost in the pleasure of Fraser’s mouth. The warm breath that tickled his short and curlies. The solid grip of his delicate fingers as they worked in tandem with his mouth. The sight of his shaft disappearing behind those plump lips.

“That’s it boy,” he groaned as he other hand joined the first to tangle in Fraser’s hair, adding another layer of pressure to the push and pull. “Maker’s name...that mouth is divine...and it is all mine...all mine,” he chanted as his hips began to lift and press up as he pressed down with his hands, forcing Fraser to take him further into his mouth. “You’ll have all of me before too long...I want those lips on the root...you said whatever I need right,” Ozzy panted as he laced his fingers together behind Fraser’s head and held him down a moment. “Right now I need to feel the back of your throat...swallow me whole Fray...swallow me whole…”
 
Fraser was starting to struggle as Osbourne pulled him in tighter, trying to get deeper into his mouth and throat. It was something he wasn't used to, and his eyes were beginning to water, but something about the sultry, pleasure-drunk tone of Osbourne's wife spurred him on powerfully and he didn't back down.

"...all mine... all mine...."

I'm all his.

He'd have scoffed at all this just days ago, but Maker's name, how things had changed! Here he was on his knees with his mouth stuffed with cock, trying his best to swallow it down the way his lover was urging him. He gagged a few times, but each time just became more determined.

Fraser knew this was possible - he'd heard a few instructive things from Amadeo, the boy whore, otherwise he might not have believed it - and he wanted very much to achieve it. He felt like he was choking when he started to swallow the way Osbourne asked, and the tears started to stream more and more. His free hand squeezed the man's muscular thigh, showing him tacitly that he wanted this, even though he was obviously having a difficult time.
 
Osbourne watched in pure adoration as Fraser struggled to comply with his demands. Eyes wet and red, spittle running down his chin and gagging but not once did the boy pull away. There was a determination in his face, not much unlike the look he wore when fiddling with the scroll, and it only compounded Ozzy’s lust. Having only been with one man before him, he couldn’t help but be impressed by Fraser fortitude and oral dexterity. Not once had he felt the boy’s teeth on his most sensitive member, and the playful teasing…

And those lips…

“We will find the boy,” he muttered as shimmied towards the edge of the sofa then stood, all the while gripping Fraser’s head in his hands. “We will break him out of whatever dungeon...if only to thank him...I must thank him...you are divine Fray...do you hear me boy...absolutely divine…”

With his climax fast approaching, Ozzy lost all tenderness. He gripped a handful of curls while the other held the back of Fraser’s neck, keeping the boy in place while he pistoned his cock into his wanton mouth. He ignored the gags and squirms, lost in the sensation of colliding with the back of Fraser’s throat. But still he wished to be deeper, to feel his throat close around the fat tip of his cock. A wish that would go ungranted, before he knew it, Ozzy was tumbling over the edge.

“Take my seed boy,” he grunted as he thrust forward one last time. Legs trembling, sweat running down his forehead. “Swallow it down...every drop...like a good boy...my good boy.” he growled as he pumped volley after volley of his hot load down Fraser gullet then abruptly yanked his cock free to replace it with his tongue.

Roughly, he hoisted the boy up into his arms all the while his tongue snaked and slithered around the inside of his mouth, tasting his own seed. The kiss was sloppy and wet with Ozzy growling and grunting like a beast in heat as he worked to get a hand down the back of Fraser’s pants. Finally giving in to his need, he tossed the boy down onto the sofa, forcing him to kneel. With a firm hand on the back of his neck, Ozzy yanked Fraser’s pants down to his knees then pressed him down so his chest rest against the back of the couch.

“I’ll have my treat now,” he growled, lips pressed against Fraser’s ear as he groped and fondled his rear. One hand remained on his back while the other moved down to grip one buttock, pulling it to the side to expose that pink rosebud. It was a concerted effort not to press his cock to it. He wasn’t so far gone to forget the experience of the night before, but he didn’t have time to be so delicate either. “Be still my beautiful boy...I’ll take care of you,” he whispered and planted a soft kiss behind his ear before he released him to kneel down behind him.

Ozzy wasted little time getting to it, immediately running his tongue from the top of Fraser’s cleft down to the tip of his cock and back up again before he settled against the true prize. He paused to spit in his palm then took Fraser’s shaft in his grip, gently stroking it as he worked his tongue in light circles around his rim.
 
Fraser felt ravished in the arms of a giant, and there were times that all he could do was hold on for dear life and hope he wouldn't drown.

"We will find the boy," Osbourne said, and at first Fraser had no idea what he was talking about.

Then it dawned on him - Amadeo. He was talking about getting Amadeo out of prison. This made his eyes light up with delight and adoration. Fraser had been thinking about this very scenario, and wasn't sure if it was even fair of him to ask if Osbourne, in his newfound position and all the connections he had, might have some way of helping Amadeo out of the unjust imprisonment. Osbourne surely knew how much guilt Fraser had suffered over the fact that only Amadeo had faced criminal charges when both of them had been equally invested in what they were caught doing in Dr. Valentin's office.

But maybe Osbourne didn't really mean it - it could have simply been a bit of hyperbole to express how much he appreciated Fraser's unexpected skills. But these were things he could leave for later.

Fraser followed every instruction and scarcely had time to savour the taste of Osbourne's seed before his mouth was filled with an eager, hungry tongue. Even at the end of the big man's powerful orgasm, Fraser continued to be overwhelmed by the force of him. He didn't know what was happening, but he was being lifted, tossed, stripped, twisted and pushed into place, and then... his ass, exposed to the lamplight and open air. He trembled.

Osbourne soothed him with sweet words, and he tried to relax and maintain his trust in the man, though he continued to fear being suddenly penetrated. Certainly Osbourne's tongue was talented with much more than soothing words - Fraser sighed with sweet delight as he felt the warm, wet touch of it all around his tender hole, as a saliva-lubricated hand carefully worked his shaft. He relaxed into it, letting Osbourne bring him to higher and higher realms of pleasure.

"Ohhh...," Fraser groaned. "That... is... exquisite! You overwhelm me daily, you beautiful beast...."
 
Ozzy growled at that, his face pressed firmly between the glory that was Fraser’s rear. And though he was thoroughly consumed by the boy’s deepest flavors, he did not forget his prick. As his tongue lapped and swirled around that precious opening, Ozzy made certain to keep his grip firm on Fraser’s prick. His strokes just as long and loving as those on his rear. Ultimately, that was all he wanted to convey with his actions. No matter how ridiculous it seemed, to love someone after only a few days acquaintance, he could not deny what was in his heart. Despite his overall aggression, it was in the subtle touches. The soft kisses to those dangling orbs. The light caresses to his thighs. Osbourne Clifton was a man in love, a practical man who knew the trouble such professions might cause so he would keep the words to himself for now.

And with him trembling under his touch, Ozzy figured it might be time to test the boy’s fortitude a bit more. With just the tip of his tongue, he probed the tight muscle that guarded Fray’s most intimate opening with gentle pressure all the while gently massaging the rough expanse of flesh behind his balls. “Be a good boy and relax for me,” he whispered as he ran a hand up his back. “I’ve shown you nothing but tenderness, have I not? Have I not taken care of you? Have I not made you feel good,” he muttered between soft kisses to Fray’s tender backside. “That is all I want...to give you the greatest pleasure but I must admit, there is but so much my tongue can do...but theses hands Doc,” he mused as he dragged the finger tips of his free hand down the back of his thigh and up again. “These hands can show you a bliss that my mouth can not provide...I beg you let me show you. Have I not proven to be a man of my word? Have I not proven myself worthy of your trust? You already quiver beneath my touch...and you can not see but it winks at me...begging me to come inside.”
 
Osbourne wasn't kidding - Fraser was quivering beneath his tongue and hands. Although there was a bit of pain as that muscular tongue pressed hard inside him, the pleasure was primary. In fact, his body was so overexcited by what the man was doing to him that it was almost too much to bear. A part of him that he didn't quite understand wanted to run from all this, to protest the pleasure and once more cut himself off from human contact. Instead he hung onto Osbourne's gently but heatedly coaxing words.

Fraser Pryce was nothing if not a logical being. Pulling away from pleasure wasn't logical. Was the most sensible thing to simply let Osbourne do as he pleased?

"Yes," he whispered, shaking and barely audible. He clutched the sofa as if he might drown otherwise.

"I trust you."
 
"I trust you."

Those three little words were like music to his ears and a jolt to his loins, Ozzy had to bite his lip to keep from hooting and hollering his triumph. And it took all his will to keep from jamming his fingers into that sweet abyss. After a few breaths to settle himself, Ozzy moved onto the sofa, pulling Fraser into his lap as he went. His own cock was sandwiched between them as he cradled him in one arm then gripped the crotch of the boy’s trousers and pulled them down to his ankles. Unwilling to risk the chance of Fraser thinking is way out of it, Ozzy pressed his knees wide and slipped his hand down beneath his balls.

“I will go slow,” he promised with his lips against Fraser’s ear. “Just as I did last night.”

He made a show of bringing his pinkie finger to his mouth, noisily sucking it before slipping it down Fraser’s already sloppy cleft. “Remember to breath,” he said quietly as he gently traced the outline of his pucker. “And stay here with me...not off in your head thinking. I promise that’ll help you none,” he said as he began to apply pressure against the tight seal. “And lean into the pain...accept it...that’s the only way to get to the other side,” he promised then pressed his lips softly to Fraser’s cheek before finding his lips and forcing his tongue inside, just as the tip of his little finger breached the first barrier.
 
Fraser's breaths were shallow and rapid as Osbourne moved him into his lap. He knew this was going to happen, for better or for worse, and the more he looked into Osbourne's eyes, the more he could see that the man needed this, and that he was a man who got what he needed. His heart was racing as he watched the man lick his finger to lube it up with saliva.

It's going to hurt.

Osbourne wasn't denying that it would hurt - Fraser was suppose to accept the pain, instead of fighting against it. Wasn't it a natural human reaction to protest and resist physical pain?

Damn. He wasn't supposed to be thinking. How could he stop? That was even more unnatural.

Just breathe. Just feel. Just breathe.

The kiss helped - Fraser leaned into it, absorbing the sweet, intimate sensations, remembering everything they'd been through, how much Osbourne had done for him, how much it all meant to him. He was grateful just to be able to kiss someone, to have someone hold him, and want him. Someone wanted him, and that was life-changing.

He whimpered against Osbourne's tongue as he felt the man's little finger - which was still a good sized finger by average standards - push through his tight ring of muscle and make its careful way inside. He clutched the man tightly and reminded himself once more to breathe. The penetration didn't feel so very nice at the moment, but although he was admittedly afraid of this man and wary of the whole experience, he also adored him, and wholly trusted him. Osbourne had assured him he wanted to make him feel the greatest pleasure - he had to believe it was coming.
 
Ozzy pressed his forehead to Fray’s as the boy tensed against him, and gently lay him down so his back lay against the sofa cushions. There was much else he could do to further his comfort, short of ending the whole endeavor but, of course, Ozzy had no intentions of initiating such a maneuver without Fraser’s say. Instead he kiss the boy gently on the side of his face and cooed into his ear. “Shhhhh...there now...I’m inside...just a bit more,” he said, slowly pressing forward until his knuckles rest against Fraser rump. “It’s not so terrible is it,” he asked, if only to convince his beautiful boy.

He continued to hold him close, whispering soft words of encouragement as he moved his little finger in a circular motion, working to loosen the tight channel. “I know it feels unseemly,” he said as he worked his other arm from beneath Fraser to take his hand in his. “My first time...no one lay me down to whisper sweet words and it was not so gentle. My first trip to the bawdy house...I drunkenly admitted I’d been a sailor before I took up the shield so the whore assumed I might enjoy such things. Imagine my shock when I felt her first two fingers punch through my hole...had she not had my cock in her mouth I may have given her a wallop,” he said with a quiet chuckle, all the while widening the circles his finger drew inside Fraser.

“Then she found something...a place deep inside every man...my eyes crossed when she pressed it,” he admitted with a groan, as he slowly began drawing his finger out to the first knuckle then gently pressed back again.
 
Fraser was starting to do exactly what he wasn't supposed to do and tensed up even tighter in response to the ever deeper penetration. Perspiring and flushed, he gritted his teeth and braced himself against the intense sensation, tensing even more when Osbourne began to relate his bawdy house tale.

"Imagine my shock..." Osbourne went on blithely as Fraser tried very hard to do the exact opposite, not remotely wanting to imagine his drunken lover being sucked off by some strange woman.

The unwelcome mental image wreaked havoc with the arousal Osbourne had worked so skilfully to coax up, and now the discomfort was far outweighing the pleasure he'd been trying to achieve, making it even more difficult for Fraser to relax.

"Stop it!" he cried out before Osbourne's finger had gotten even halfway back in, sounding half wounded and half indignant. He gave Osbourne's shoulder a hard push with one of his feet. "Stop!"

Imagine my shock...

"I don't want to!" he cried, not thinking to clarify that he was referring to the imagining part, and not necessarily this whole business. "I don't want to at all!"

He winced and whimpered as the finger withdrew fully and then slid back on the couch, pressing himself into the corner and curling up into a fetal position. After a moment of tense silence, he burst into tears and covered his face with both hands in shame.

What was wrong with him? They were supposed to be sharing something special and good, and he'd spoiled it with - what? Classic Fraser Pryce overthinking? Petty jealousy? General oversensitivity? Some sort of needless panic? Surely Osbourne would run out of patience with him - he'd probably spoiled everything now. Here was a man who could go get his needs met at a bawdy house any time he wanted, and apparently had done so for a very long time. There was nothing to stop him from continuing to do so.
 
It’s your own fault...you told him you’d stop if he ask, so deal with it…
Ozzy grit his teeth as Fraser scrambled away from him, stifling his initial reaction to the boy’s retreat. The flash of rage quickly gave way to something like the hurt feelings he experienced on the road but that was quickly pushed down as well. Neither would serve him in this moment, not for this but still he drew in a deep breath, muttered a curse as he tucked his manhood away.

For a moment he only watched him, his light eyes still lust filled and lips pulled into a tight line. This wasn’t about pain, if it were Fraser would have stopped him immediately not when his muscle was beginning to give way to his touch. No, this was something else, perhaps the result of Fraser doing exactly the opposite of what he’d told him.

“You left me didn’t you,” Ozzy said softly as he pressed himself up to stand. In one swift motion, he scooped Fraser up into his arms, holding him tight so he couldn’t squirm away. “It’s alright...that’s a big ask for someone who’s lived their entire life in their head,” he said with a soft kiss to the top of his head as he took measured steps towards the bed chamber. “The fault is mine Fray...pushing you too hard too fast but the way you...I thought maybe... I just...I’m sorry sweet boy,” he said as he gently lay Fraser down in the center of the bed.

Ozzy sat down on the edge and set to work removing Fraser’s boots and pants, being careful to avoid his delicate bits as he pulled the bed linens up around him. “I would hold you if you’ll let me,” he said with an almost said smile as he reached to take the boy’s hand and kiss his palm. “But if you’d rather be alone, I would leave you to it.”
 
Like a cat that doesn't want to be picked up, Fraser at first squirmed in Osbourne's grasp and then stilled, resigning himself to his fate. He sighed almost impatiently when Osbourne apologized to him.

"No, I don't want to be alone," he muttered, giving Osbourne a long, searching look. "Why are you apologizing to me when I don't think you really feel sorry? You're frustrated with me, I know it."

He clenched his jaw, trying to figure out the man in front of him just as much as he was trying to figure out himself and his own reactions to all of these new things. He'd known Osbourne had a history - why be upset about it? It didn't make any sense. Then again, maybe it wasn't so unreasonable of him to protest hearing details of his lover's adventures with whores at such a time.

"Is there something wrong with me?" he whispered. "Or did your other... partners... actually enjoy these stories of you at the bawdy house? I can't stand it."
 
“Frustrated...perhaps a little but I am truly sorry,” Ozzy said taking Fraser’s hand in both his. He smiled a little as he looked up into Fraser’s face, all twisted up in a mixture of desperation and disgust. “I’m sorry for bringing you to such cross emotions when I’ve only promised to do the opposite. My sharing...was a poor attempt to soften you...to show you that your discomfort is nothing to be ashamed of, that even a much larger, more worldly man had trouble with such an invasion. But answer me this,” he said with a smirk as he moved towards the head of the bed where Fraser lay and drape his heavy arm across the boy’s narrow torso. “How could you be jealous of someone who’s name I can not recall...whose face I no longer remember when you speak so dreamily of the one you call Amadeo?”

Ozzy lean over to kiss Fraser on the head, then lay down beside him. Propped up on his elbow, Ozzy took a deep breath and chuckled a little before he said, “I guess I should be flattered but how could I be when the mention of my past forces you to close in on yourself again. I’ve lived a long life before you Fray, a life I very much enjoyed and I’ll not pretend otherwise to spare feelings...yours or anyone else’s. I care very deeply for you but that is a concession I can not make. If you cared at all for me, you would not ask it.”
 
Fraser shut his eyes for a few moments and sighed. "I never asked you to pretend about your past or your feelings," he said with a touch of annoyance. "Neither of us have to pretend anything, and that's precisely why it's wonderful being with you."

When he opened his eyes again they were calmer and more vulnerable. He seemed to struggle within himself before speaking again.

"I never meant to speak 'dreamily' about Amadeo," he mumbled. "The only reason I told you about him was because I thought it was important that you know everything about me. I learned a lot, because of him, but the truth is... if I have any tender feelings about him, they're mostly guilt. He's not someone I want to be thinking of when I'm with you, even if those thoughts creep in at times."

He shifted closer to Osbourne, curling up against his body, his knees against the man's belly and his head tucked in near his neck.

"You know, of course, that it's terribly difficult for me to calm my mind," he said softly, his voice trembling slightly. "I cannot simply... do so at will. Your experiences have made you who you are, and I cannot begrudge you any of them. It's only... at such a time, when it's already terribly difficult for me to focus, there are many things I certainly wouldn't want to have intruding into my consciousness. One of those things being... nameless, faceless women. If this makes me irrational, then I suppose I should be apologizing. I'm sorry I ruined it when you've probably done nothing wrong."

One small hand reached out and pressed flat against Osbourne's chest, finding his heartbeat.

"How long until you lose patience with me entirely?" he whispered. "You need only a few coins and a spare hour to find satisfaction elsewhere."
 
“Satisfied, yes but I’ve lived enough to know that satisfaction and fulfillment are two very different things,” Ozzy said as he took the hand from his chest and put it to his bearded cheek. “And I’m old enough to know that the latter is something I can not purchase, nor can it be rushed. You are worth more to me than all the coin in the Kingdom’s coiffers, all the jewels and gems. It is your face that I have memorized, your name that will never leave me… for as long as I live Fraser Pryce it will always be you,” he said and slipped his arms around the slender ball of flesh tucked beneath the blankets.

“And just as you wish me know of you, know that I want the same. I’ll not have secrets between us Fray...no matter how much the truth might hurt. One can not love with a dishonest heart...not for long anyway…”

“And you needn’t apologize,” he said as his hands drifted up and down Fraser’s back, his chin rest on the top of his head. “And you ruined nothing. You aren’t ready and though I’m not the jealous kind, I understand how the mention of past lovers can stir cross emotions...especially in such an intimate moment. If I haven’t ruined my chances at a second...third attempt,” he amended with a smirk. “I promise to be less forthright.”
 
For Osbourne to simply say he understood would have been enough to make him feel a whole lot less terrible, but Fraser absolutely melted at the rest. His insides were a a warm, quivering puddle. He pressed Osbourne's scruffy cheek with his soft hand and shivered.

"For as long as I live..." - how could he so confidently declare such a thing? How could he be sure of always, after the relatively short time they'd spent together, and after the awe-inspiring sum of experiences and relationships Osbourne had been through while Fraser had experienced practically nothing? Ever since the death of his mother, Fraser had secretly been longing for someone to value him for who he was, yet now that it had happened, he couldn't figure out what the man found so appealing about him.

"Of course you haven't ruined anything," Fraser sobbed, his hot tears wetting Osbourne's chest and shoulder. "Every time I lose my head, you manage to make everything better. I have a feeling you'll have no shortage of 'attempts'."

He uncurled himself just enough to raise his head and make eye contact with Osbourne.

"Do you actually... love me?"
 
“Do you actually...love me?”

It was exactly the question Ozzy wished not hear but he should have known it would come, especially after his last words. He could not keep the boy waiting, knowing what conclusions his little worry wort would jump to in his silence.

“That is not a question I take lightly Fray...you must know that,” he began as he rolled onto his back, unable to look into those doe eyes. “It’s a delicate thing...love...and I’m very careful of such declarations. Until very recently, I’d assumed it would elude me always. Then I met you...the way you make me feel...is like nothing I’ve ever felt. But is it love,” he asked and slipped his hand up to grip the back of Fraser’s neck. “These last few days with you...I’ve come to realize that I’ve never known such a thing. I’d never imagined growing old with anyone...my little cottage in the wilderness has always been a lonely place. But you...I can not imagine a life without Fray and it terrifies me.

“I have seen war...skirmishes on the high seas...stared death in the face countless times but nothing compares to the mere thought of losing you. Is that love? Probably...I’m afraid...I’m not yet ready to declare it. But know this Fraser Pryce, my heart is yours to take...or leave if you choose.“
 
Fraser contemplated him thoughtfully for some time in silence, his face tense with confusion. Abruptly the confusion broke, shifting to amusement. He chuckled, planting a kiss on Osbourne's scruffy cheek.

"I never expected cowardice from you, of all people," he teased. "Seems like you've already gone down a road you don't intend to return from, hmm? How funny that you can promise forever and always, and hand over your heart so confidently, but find one little word such a complex and delicate thing. I should think it's as simple as stating aloud a fact that seems to be self-evident. The sky is blue. Fire is hot. Ozzy loves Fray."

He stroked Osbourne's beard affectionately, still smiling, for a minute or two before rolling over and scooting his rump back until they were tucked together like two cosy spoons.

"Very well," he agreed, hugging one of Osbourne's arms against his chest. "I'll take what you're offering. It's a beautiful heart, if a little silly at times."
 
Laughter was not the reaction he expected but Ozzy welcomed it nonetheless, nor did expect the easy acceptance of his apprehension. As Fraser snuggled in close, Ozzy squeezed him tight to his chest and took a long breath of his scent before laying soft kisses along the back of his neck. “Well, the fault is yours boy,” he muttered with his nose buried in Fraser’s curls. “It’ll get no better from here.”

“Rest now sweet boy,” he said, giving Fraser one last kiss before extracting himself from their embrace. As much as he wished to stay, they both had a list of duties to attend to and none would wait for their canoodling. “I’ve a haircut to arrange and don’t think I’ve forgotten about your training. You’ll spend your evening with Quick, learning Umbra’s way. No blood oaths of course,” he said with a chuckle as he straightened his clothes. “But there are none better at close quarter combat than those who walk the path of shadows. It will do you good to learn how to defend yourself with more than sharp words,” he offered with a smirk. “I’ll return shortly, with company I’m sure. If you wish to remain half dressed, close the door and I’ll not disturb you…’til their gone at least.”

Ozzy offered a slight bow before leaving Fraser to his own devices for a bit. He would have felt bad about locking the boy in if it weren’t for his own protection, and though he didn’t ask, he was almost certain Fraser would prefer it. He found one of his loyal attendants standing sentry at the bottom of the stairs.

“You boys taking turns,” Ozzy asked Jake, the older of the Taylor brothers who offered up a nod.

“Yes, sir...it’s ma’s idea. Keep us from fightin’ is all.”

“Your ma’s right. I’ll not have you two tussling while you’re on duty, you hear? Geoff off helping with second meal,” Ozzy asked and again Jake nodded. “We’ll have it in my quarters but first I need to send you off again. That alright?”

“Of course sir...I’m at your service,” Jake said beaming and Ozzy gave him pat to the back.

“There’s a barber over in Dockside...goes by the name Rabbit Jack on account of his buck teeth and white hair. Older fellow, likes the drink. You might find him propped up along the wall near the docks, and when you do, you’ll need to offer him an ale and say ‘The captain requires your blade.’ That should set him right. Bring him back here and get him fed. Send for me once he’s done. Got it?”

“Rabbit Jack...Ale...The captain requires your blade...feed ‘em and get you.”

“Good lad...oh and my trunk?”

“Flet...Sir Dejen has it, sir,” Jake said shaking his head, bringing Ozzy to chuckles.

“Worry not lad. Call us how you know us. Fletch and Quick don't take kindly to titles.”

“They said the same...oh and I’m supposed to tell you that the Cliftons’ are expecting you as soon as you’re able.”

“Good lad. Be off with you now. I expect your return before the next bell.”

“Yes, sir.”
 
Fraser stayed in bed for a while after Osbourne had departed, contemplating many things that were very new to him and just as confusing as most aspects of normal human existence. Osbourne had said so many lovely things to him, expressing sentiments of deep affection, strong desire, and lifelong devotion. Fraser was quite sure people would commonly count these things as love; yet, Osbourne was so reluctant to call it that. He wasn't especially bothered by it while he was in the man's arms, but now that he was lying here alone thinking about it, it began to rankle him. It seemed illogical to him, and few things bothered him more than a dearth of logic. The man might as well have shared a bountiful evening meal with him and insisted there was no reason to hastily label it as "supper". Did Fraser not actually understand what was meant by "love"? Would he ever?

Fray knew there were a lot of things he just needed to let go of, and he was well aware that this variety of pedantry was unnecessary and something that infuriated and alienated most people. Yet as soon as he tried to set one internal struggle aside, there was another waiting right behind it.

They had known each other only a handful of days - how could Osbourne say so many lofty things to him and be certain of their future together? Where did this adoration spring from? Was it for real, or was Osbourne just a particularly impetuous person? Fraser hadn't known him long enough to be certain.

But even presuming Osbourne was sincere as well as constant, Fray still had so much to fret about. They could scarcely be more different, and Fraser could see so many ways in which he'd failed in whatever this relationship was, even if Osbourne did go out of his way to praise him in so many ways. It was possible Fraser felt a disproportionate disappointment with himself due to the way their most recent attempt at penetration had gone. Osbourne wanted so badly to have sex with him, and the more they danced around it and played with one another, the more Fraser wanted it too. He was holding Osbourne back by being too sensitive, and he was frustrating himself also. What if Osbourne hadn't fully come to terms with how frustrated he was? For all his sweet assurances about satisfaction versus fulfillment, what if he got tired of waiting for Fraser to be able to handle even a finger inside him when he was itching to put something much larger in there?

He could see that it might have been unfair of him to blame himself so much for his physical struggle - any person could struggle with any physical feat they'd never attempted before, and they would surely have no shortage of opportunities to try again. But it seemed as if, the way most people talked about sex, it came so easily, as if they'd all just done it flippantly by accident and went on from there.

As always, Fraser Pryce felt like an outsider in a world full of "normal" people who took basic things for granted.

And now he had another new physical feat waiting for him - combat training with the woman known as Quick. He couldn't imagine any possibility of this going particularly well. The only question was, just how badly would he fail? He'd managed to actually earn some initial respect from Osbourne's compatriots, but it could be so easily lost. They might, like Osbourne, see some value in what talents he did have, but could they appreciate his scientific brain in the long term when he proved useless at practical things?

Ugh. And perhaps his worst failure of all was lying here moping when he could do something useful with his time. It wasn't like him to waste his time like this. Why was he getting so bogged down with self-pity? Perhaps in some way it went hand-in-hand with the unaccustomed experience of actually being liked and appreciated. When he lived a solitary existence mostly inside his head, he didn't compare himself to other people as much, nor did he spend any energy on analyzing how he related to others - he simply didn't. Coming to terms with a new role, a new life with new people, required a lot of mental, emotional, and even physical energy, and he was bound to hit a wall now and then.

Fraser hadn't struggled like this since the death of his mother at the tender age of eight, when he'd been moved from the humble home he'd grown up in to the estate of his noble father, where no one wanted him around and there was very little for him. This place, with these people, had so much greater potential to be useful and fulfilling, and to give him a chance to be useful to others around him - it was on him to embrace it, and make sure he was up to the challenges this life presented. It would have to start with a more productive attitude, and mental as well as physical readiness. Certainly Osbourne had recognized the latter, ensuring that he would be trained to defend himself.

Rising at last, Fraser washed up and dressed, electing to spend the next few hours sitting in the little library and perusing dozens of tomes. There was a lot of information here and he was in overload mode - at this point he wasn't ready to dive too deeply into anything, but it was a good time to analyze what was available to him and put together a study plan. He formed several strategic piles of books that looked interesting, and hoped that no one would clean them up after he left the library.

An afternoon with books and following supper with Osbourne helped him to calm down and clear his head a fair amount, but soon Quick and Fletch had arrived, and Fraser felt nervous again, dreading what the evening would hold while Osbourne disappeared for what might be the most important meeting of his life.

Why hadn't he looked for a book on self-defence, so he could at least feel a little bit prepared?
 
“Why’d you go and do that? Without even telling me first,” Quick whisper shouted as she paced the length of Fletch’s quarters. There was a blade in her hand, a short dagger which she spun around her index finger. They called it her “thinking blade” but made it no less dangerous, Fletch had seen her flay a man from belly to throat while she was “thinking”, he was of course, unconcerned with meeting such a fate.

“I told him nothing until he guessed as much,” was his calm reply as he diligently oiled the internal mechanisms of his crossbow. “You’ve been... more agreeable recently,” he said glancing up from his work a moment, thick lips curled slightly at the right. “You know him as well as I Bevin, he’ll treat us no different.”

“Ain’t him I’m worried about,” she said after a heavy sigh as she moved to stand behind him, shoving her blade back into the sheath on her belt as she went. “We ain’t really ‘posed to fratenize…”

“Lots of things we aren’t supposed to do...least of which is fraternize. Things will be different now with Ozzy at the helm. The changes have already begun,” he assured her as he reassembled his most treasured weapon. Once done, he turned to pull her into his lap and kissed her gently as she playfully squirmed in his embrace. “Besides, he’s got more pressing matters to deal with than our sleeping arrangements…”

“Like his own,” Quick said with a raised eyebrow and Fletch shrugged, unconvincingly. “He ain’t fooling me none with his noble act. He’s been all puppy dog eyes since he carried that poor little thing into camp...and I ain’t sayin’ the boy don’t need lookin’ after, I’m just sayin’ Sir Clifton ain’t as much a gentleman as he claims to be.”

“He’s told Fraser as much I’m sure, and I imagine the boy’s been receptive to the arrangement...given the way Ozzy spoke of him…”

“It’ll be the fisherman all over again,” Quick said, rolling her eyes and Fletch chuckled a little as he eased her out of his lap so he could stand.

“Given all he’s learned today, I doubt there’ll be a crisis of faith anytime soon. Now that he knows the truth of his parentage, he’ll need The Wind’s coffers to tie any of those loose ends.”

“That should be fun…”

“Better than babysitting,” was Fletch’s teasing response as he moved towards the door, grinning at Quick’s scowl.

“Oz knows better than any I ain’t the mothering kind,” she said, throwing open the door making Fletch laugh outright. “Better the boy learns now than later.”

“I’m sure that’s why you’ve been charged with the training,” he said, following her into the corridor.

Once in the open, Fletch resumed his usual stoic nature. His back straight, eyes scanning his periphery as he followed Quick the short distance to the Bellows’ alcove. She did the honors, pulling the cord that would alert those above of their arrival and within a span of a breath the faint sound of gears grinding announced the release of the heavy lower door.

“What’s he need me for if he’s got all this,” Quick muttered, waiting for the door to get high enough for her to duck under. “Could be out helpin’ Goldie…”

“Goldie’s fine right where he is,” Ozzy said from above, causing Quick to jump as she made her way up the stairs. “Don’t give me that look. You know I hear everything.”

“Well you ain’t about to have us cooped up here all night...Maker’s name I thought my quarters was nice,” Quick said with a whistle as she pushed past Ozzy to enter his suite. “No wonder I ain’t seen you but once since you got back.”

“It was twice,” Ozzy corrected, his eyes shifting nervously to Fraser before he noticed Quick watching him. “And you won’t be here. Take him over to the old guard house across the canal. The watchman served at the Northern Garrison with Fletch and me way back when...Laurel Copeland,” he said with a nod at Fletch. “He’ll let you in, give you run of the place,” he added before turning his attention to Fraser. “I expect a full demonstration upon my return,” he said with a wink and roughed the boy’s hair a bit before leading them to the door.

Ozzy took up the rear as they filed down the stairs and moved down the corridor. When they came to the bottom of the stairs though, he continued down while the others moved toward the front door.

“You best keep up,” Quick said over her shoulder as they made their way through the courtyard. “I’ll not take kindly to Ozzy being cross ‘cause you got yourself lost in the crowd.”

“He’s not some wayward whelp Bevin. I’m sure he’s more than capable of following along,” Fletch said shaking his head as the woman moved into the evening press. Despite his assertion, he kept a close eye on the young man as they weaved their way across the city.
 
Fraser had given Osbourne one last slightly longing, mildly concerned look before setting his expression to a firm neutral and following Quick and Fletch at a brisk pace. He had no idea what was ahead of him, so he tried not to think about it. It helped to stay in the moment. He thought about the way the road felt under his feet, considered the sights ahead and on either side of him, and kept his ears alert for sounds, catching strains of conversation here and there as they wove their way through the city.

The voices of Quick and Fletch jangled in his ears, and he already felt insulted, despite his desire to remain neutral.

"Indeed I am not a child nor an imbecile," he announced in a clear, firm voice. "I don't require instructions to avoid wandering off and getting lost."

His gaze shifted then to Fletch: "I'm also perfectly capable of speaking up for myself, in addition to being capable of following, so you needn't defend me if I'm not in danger. If you'll both treat me like an adult instead of scolding me for no reason or speaking as if I'm not even here, this will go much more smoothly."

He set his jaw again and kept walking.
 
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