olden times for Tommy

[oohforeshadowing]

The great country pile isn't their speed, really.

Double had their lovely house in London, bought and paid for by their adoptive father - a High Fae of some high regard, who'd been fretting about their lands and accounts falling into strangers' hands when he passed on. It was a heartrending story, of course, and Double was...well, positively delighted to be anything the old man wanted them to be. For the right price.

Shapeshifters have long since had a bad reputation for sliding into the upper echelons this way. They hadn't been in penury to begin with, by any means, but 'lovely house in London' money and 'vast estates with mining wealth and hundreds of rate-paying tenants' money is not the same by some order of magnitude.

The old man died peacefully in his bed, well over a century old, and left the manor house and everything that went with it to their sole heir. Who is going to sell it all, eventually, but it feels tasteless not to even let their 'father's' body grow cold.

They move in after the last of their furniture has been transported, and lets the housekeeper give them the tour. They cut quite the figure: long blond hair pinned up in curls, a jacket and blouse tailored tightly to a corseted waist, the snug high-waisted breeches favoured by most males. Their tail is the most exposed part of them and the woman they're following keeps eyeing it like she's not sure if it's obscene or not.

"...show you the stables, your grace," she says, as she walks ahead to the outbuildings.

"Ah. I suppose we ought."

Comments

[bleak_midwinter]

"Why don't you?"

It's what he actually wants to know, since he has no investment in any of the other shifters he may or may not have met.

[oohforeshadowing]

"Because I like how I look, and I prefer to invest my energy elsewhere," they say simply, and then grin. "Why, did you have some requests?"

[bleak_midwinter]

He raises an eyebrow at them as he closes the chest again, snapping the lock shut.

"No, Your Grace. I think you should like how you look. I just wonder why the others don't."

[oohforeshadowing]

Double bites their bottom lip for a moment, teeth sharp against soft skin.

"I'm afraid there are some things about the Old Realms that it's best I not share, darling."

[bleak_midwinter]

Oh. That's interesting - he has to force himself not to look too interested, too curious. Curious people don't do well for too long around supernaturals, he's found, not when they start poking their noses where they don't want them to be.

"Of course," he says, quickly. "My apologies. I don't mean to pry."

[oohforeshadowing]

"It's alright, Mr Shelby, you weren't to know."

The tip of their tail taps the bench next to them.

"Please. Come and sit with me."

[bleak_midwinter]

He does so, fairly obediently, crossing his legs at the ankle. The rain is tapping cozily on the shelter's roof, the horse is happily grazing on some of the grass. It's very peaceful.

[oohforeshadowing]

Double smiles and leans into him just a little.

"Do you have a wife, Mr Shelby? A sweetheart over in town? Both?"

[bleak_midwinter]

"No, no, obviously not," he says, politely - though a little stiffly. "One might think you're asking with... a certain motive."

[oohforeshadowing]

"They might, mightn't they?"

Double touches his knee, hand barely resting there.

"I'd very much like to touch you, Mr Shelby."

[bleak_midwinter]

He shivers hard, not meeting their eyes, his hands flexing where he'd been holding on to the bench.

"I suspected you did." They're very subtle.

"Is this something you're used to? Dalliances with humans?"

[oohforeshadowing]

"Actually? No. If I'd even looked at a human a little too long, it would be halfway around the city within the day."

They don't think he'll believe them, but it is true.

[bleak_midwinter]

He looks at them now, looking a little flushed, but wary too. "You don't think anyone will notice this sort of thing here? Where there are fewer people, and far less happening to distract them?"

[oohforeshadowing]

"Oh, I don't doubt that they will," they say lightly. "What I have here and now is money and security such that I don't have to care about it."

[bleak_midwinter]

"And your eye landed on me? The man who met you with his boots full of horse shit and an attitude to match?"

He raises his eyebrow again, but his shoulders drop. So far, he'd just figured they were intimidating him, somehow getting under his skin by flirting with him. It's happened before: Fae like to, on a dare, and then leave laughing hysterically, as if the mere thought of seriously bedding a human is just hilarious. Anytime he'd showed interest in the past he'd been ridiculed right after. The one or two times that he actually did sleep with one of the Duke's visitors, he'd felt like a place where wild oats were sown - something crazy to do in secret, like a kink indulged.

It's one of the reasons he's so deliberately abrasive with newcomers.

[oohforeshadowing]

"The man who takes good care of animals past their usefulness, the man who speaks so eloquently of self-knowledge - the man with a face carved by Rome's finest sculptors, and the nicest legs I've seen in years? Yes," they say, eyes bright with amusement. "That's exactly where my eye has landed."

[bleak_midwinter]

The past two compliments pull a surprised laugh out of him, and he turns a little to face them.

"That's a little much, Your Grace, but you're very eloquent in turn. You're not so easy to scare off, eh?"

[oohforeshadowing]

"I've been told I can be extremely dedicated to a chosen cause," they tell him, and move their hand to cover Thomas' own. "So. Will you allow me?"

[bleak_midwinter]

"...I'll allow you."

It still feels a little strange, their interest in him, how intense it is, how they are, indeed, very dedicated to this cause. He doesn't know why, he doesn't know what they want from him.

But at the same time, why not allow himself something nice? They're interesting, smart and beautiful. They've invested time in him. And they're not so jaded yet. Why not?

He can't stop himself from feeling a flutter of nerves in his stomach.

[oohforeshadowing]

"Wonderful."

They lean close, enough to press their mouth lightly to his throat, to breathe deep of harsh soap and sweat.

"Have you ever-? With one of us, I mean, I refuse to believe you won't have had humans lining up for you."

[bleak_midwinter]

He shivers again, and unbidden, his mouth falls open on a sigh.

"Yes. Mostly other Fae. Your father's guests. Visitors to the village."

[oohforeshadowing]

"Oh. I didn't realise you'd have such a....robust frame of reference," they chuckle, and nip so lightly at his earlobe - just enough that he'll feel the sting. "But please don't take that as a criticism. I like that you've been openminded."

[bleak_midwinter]

He reaches out and carefully puts a hand of his own over theirs. He doesn't know how much he'll be allowed to reach out, how much they want, but when they nip at him he feels the need to try.

"It's been years. And I wasn't always so - assertive."

When he was just barely here, being pushed into a wall and having a hand shoved down his pants he had no idea what to do with it, what to feel about that. He knows now, which is why it no longer happens.

[oohforeshadowing]

"Ah," they say, delicately, and leave it there. As much as the highest castes talk about fucking humans in the same way humans talk about laying with beasts - they still do it. And if they can't indulge their curiosities with consent, they'll often do it without.

Many Fae seem to genuinely believe that if a human really doesn't want to follow orders, they can resist compulsion.

"So how would you like to assert yourself now, darling?"

[bleak_midwinter]

"I'd like to know what you intend to do today."

The future, he won't ask after. They can both see about that. But today, he'd like to know.

"What you wanted to do with me, in this little shed in the woods."