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

[oohforeshadowing]

It's a small thing, perhaps, but it's so sweet and thoughtful that they just have to press a quick kiss to his mouth before moving on.

Their rooms have been redecorated since they moved in. The bed is vast, of course. Fae tend to favour heavy floral and botanical designs, which Double has chosen to reject altogether; the walls and soft furnishings are relatively plain, although the quality is evident.

They close the door behind them.

"I, ah, have a few things I need to veto altogether before we begin."

[bleak_midwinter]

"Of course," he says - though he does take off his jacket, folding it over his arm while he waits for them to tell him. They've gotten quite adept at communicating these things, which makes this easier.

[oohforeshadowing]

"Please don't slap me in the face or put your hands around my neck," first off. That's easy. The next is a little harder, and they avoid eye contact. "I, ah...I do quite enjoy being insulted, but nothing like 'bastard'."

The specific slur against their parentage, is what they mean.

[bleak_midwinter]

He reaches out to briefly touch their shoulder.

"That should be done quite easily, Double. Is this the kind of scene where you'd want to be insulted? Or would you like to be taken in hand and guided somewhere?"

[oohforeshadowing]

"...I'd like to forget everything except you, and this room," they say. "How that happens, I'll happily leave in your hands."

[bleak_midwinter]

"Then I suppose you'd better tell me if there's anything else before I ask you to take your shoes and jacket off."

They're wearing way too much.

[oohforeshadowing]

"No...sir?" they say, and then realise that this is perhaps something that's best confirmed. "May I call you that?"

They're already unbuttoning their jacket.

[bleak_midwinter]

Oh. He shivers at that, feeling his stomach clench with arousal. At the end of the day he's still human, and Double is a Realmer. One of them faking him sir is going to affect him.

"You may. Put that aside and come here," he tells them, gentle enough but obviously firm.

[oohforeshadowing]

"Yes, sir."

The relief in their voice is unmistakable. They do as they're bidden, draping their jacket over a stool, and approach him with eyes slightly downcast, in much the way of a servant approaching their master.

[bleak_midwinter]

He reaches out to run a hand through their hair, and very slightly pulls on it to tip their head up so he can kiss them. They've kissed plenty of times and it's obvious now that he's taking a little more control even in this kiss.

[oohforeshadowing]

It's clear enough to make them shiver in undisguised pleasure, their body becoming just a little more slack, lips parted and receptive to him. After all the frustrations and complications of this last week it's such a balm to just...be as someone else commands.

[bleak_midwinter]

He pulls back and smiles at them, dropping his hand down to touch their cheek.

"Aren't you accommodating? So eager to please, pet. You look just like how I like your people."

In submission to him. He licks his lips and trails his fingers down over their face, chest, stomach, to finally settle between their legs.

[oohforeshadowing]

Pet. It's such a clear-cut role reversal, and for a second it's wonderful - and then it isn't.

They catch Tommy's wrist for just a moment, and make eye contact.

"Thomas." Beseeching. "I'm sorry, I like 'pet', but I don't - I don't want to be 'my people' today."

Their people are the entire reason they asked for this.

[bleak_midwinter]

He lifts his hand, and theirs with it, and kisses their knuckles.

"I'm a bit out of practice. Thank you for guiding me to what you need."

He puts his hand back in their hair and tightens it, putting pressure on the roots.

"No need to think about them, or anyone else who isn't me. Is there?"

[oohforeshadowing]

They seize in a breath, their whole body seeming to arch up a little, eyes fluttering closed.

"N-no, sir. Not at all."

[bleak_midwinter]

"Just me, right here, in this room. And you know what I want, don't you?"

He takes their hand again with the one of his own he still has free, and guides it between his legs. It feels crass, vulgar, too forward, but he thinks it's just the ticket.

"I want you. You, there just for me."5

[oohforeshadowing]

They bite their bottom lip, sharp teeth peeking out ever so slightly, and press their fingertips in against the warm linen. Not an aggressive grab, not a play for dominance - they just want so badly to feel him.

"I'll please you however you want, sir."

[bleak_midwinter]

"Good."

He smiles at them, then starts pulling on their hair. Softly at first, but the pressure is unrelenting - he pulls their hair back, exposes their throat, forces their mouth to drop open a little.

"Then get on your knees and get me hard. And don't think of using those teeth anywhere near anything sensitive."

[oohforeshadowing]

"I would never."

They would. They have. But already, those moments feel like a universe and a lifetime away.

They sink down to their knees, elegant and fluid, with only the slightest tremor in their hands as they open up his breeches and smallclothes. They don't use their hands at all when they lean in, curling their long agile tongue around his prick, drawing the head into their mouth to lavish with attention.

[bleak_midwinter]

He's not hard yet, not even close - he'd just been excited for what's to come, but he's not so young that it was translating to anything physical yet. His fingers stroke through their hair as they start to get him hard, and he won't disguise the way his breathing quickens.

"Using that tongue of yours for good," he murmurs. "You look so pretty on your knees for me, pet."

[oohforeshadowing]

Double's expression is positively dreamy, their eyes still half-open as they lavish Tommy with their attentions. This is very much how they want this to begin - not as themself or one of their people or Your Grace, just as good pet. Sweet and obedient.

They like the taste of his skin, and they love the gratification of feeling him get hard in their mouth.

[bleak_midwinter]

"I think once you're done here," he muses, sounding like he's hardly affected even though they canf eel him getting harder, "I'm going to spread you out on that bed, put you on your stomach, and finger you until you're crying. I want to fuck you, but only once you've gotten off - you're a wicked thing, you'd complain if I didn't get you off before getting to me, wouldn't you?"

[oohforeshadowing]

Double makes a little mm-mm sound of protest, just barely shaking their head - they couldn't, Tommy, they wouldn't do that. If anything, such selflessness on his part feels strange for the character he's taken on - but he's treating them as a pet, and such creatures are defined by whim and appetite, aren't they?

They gaze up at him now, eyes wide and pupils dilated, as they start to bob their head on his cock.

[bleak_midwinter]

"Fuck," he breathes, eyes falling shut. His hand cradles the back of his head, as he enjoys feeling their head bob while they suck him off.

"Fuck, you're doing a good job. You're right, you wouldn't complain, would you? You're being good. You're being mine."

[oohforeshadowing]

They don't respond, but the corners of their mouth curl up the smallest bit in satisfaction. Yes. They're his, to please and hurt and take pleasure from however he wishes. The submission to his will feels like a warm bath to slide into.

They take him in deep, swallowing his cock to the root, letting him feel the snug pressure at the back of their mouth.