[MATURE] Contraband (Lars)

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Fionn
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Mon Jan 14, 2019 5:10 pm

Dentis 13, 2718 | Passive Dorms | Night
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Fionn waited, feeling misery begin to creep onto his shoulders as he thought that Lars wasn't going to answer. He must be asleep.

He grasped his bedclothes with a sigh, ready to tuck himself in and bed down for the night. He sighed anew when Lars spoke, this time with relief rather than misery. His heart beat a little faster, pleased to get a response but also pleased that Lars had told him that he wasn't disgusting. He was glad of that, glad that he didn't think that he was vile and reprehensible and every other nasty thing he could think that could be associated with his sexuality. The young man sat up, wrapping his arms around his knees as he realised that he needed to stay awake so that he could have a conversation with his roommate. It had to be done quietly but it was necessary. Besides, there was no guarantee that Jamie would wake up at the least thing. Sometimes he could sleep like the dead but there seemed to be no rhyme or reason to when the boy woke and when he didn't; it was a game of chance. If there was a chance that the boy was stirring then he could always just move to Lars' bed to continue the conversation.

Although he wasn't sure if he could risk being that close to the other blond again. He might try to hug him again or something. Sweet Alioe, he didn't even think that he could deal with his smell. He'd had a bath but Fionn imagined that it was a scent that would cling to his bed and gods, it was a strangely alluring smell. He'd thought that the other night after the boy had failed to have a bath in the midst of Fred drama. Given that he didn't want to go jumping the young man - the sweet, pure and utterly innocent man, don't even fucking think of doing it - then it was probably best if he just avoided that area altogether.

However, when the other began talking about gestures, whatever relief he had felt dropped into the pit of his stomach where it shrivelled up and died. Fionn gulped, the sound possibly audible to the other blond as he gazed into the semi-darkness.

Sick. That was worse than disgusting.

If the gestures sickened him then what on Vita would he make of the actual acts? Heck, Fionn thought that some of it was sickening. Sometimes, when certain things were very- When things weren't entirely enjoyable, entirely consensual then it did tend to be a bit... sickening. Right now, he felt less than happy about the whole matter, ready to curl himself into a ball and pretend that he wasn't... ill.

"I-I-I didn't mean to be- I didn't notice that I was doing it. Th-the gestures," he stammered out, face hot and quite scarlet as he gazed at his own knees rather than risking looking at Lars, even in the dark. "I... Easier to talk with my hands than using words. I don't have the words for- I can't really talk about-"

He sighed, a hand going through his blond hair, for once incapable of finding the right thing to say. This wasn't a topic that he could manage, not well, not without being crude. Disgusting. Sick.

"I'm sorry, really. I didn't know that you'd be... I get what you mean about feeling sick. I... it's gross if you aren't... involved," he commented, making a vague and airy gesture with his hand before he realised what he was doing and sat on it. It wasn't crude but now he was all too aware that he moved his hands too much.

"I'm not making fun of you, really. Not by speaking like you or... I'm sorry, I know you don't want to talk about it but... you're twenty-six, right? Really? You really haven't- No one's ever done anything to you? How have you- I don't-" Stammer, stutter, strained voice, almost pained as he tried to understand how the man could have gone sixteen years - sixteen fucking years - untouched when Fionn hadn't even managed-

He flinched in the dark, remembering another time, an earlier time when he had been too young, far too young and Ayden's voice soft and soothing in the dark while Fionn cried, sounds muffled. Even now those memories came back raw and agonising, still fresh after all these years. And yet in spite of it, he couldn't hate the man, warped though their relationship had been. Might become again.

"Lars... I know that you're good but... don't get into trouble, will you? Don't... give Ayden reason to notice you again. If he has reason to punish you... Just don't let him. Promise me that you- I know it doesn't make sense but... please be good, Lars. Please don't do anything like... like with Fred."

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Lars
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: nil igitur mors est ad nos
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Tue Jan 15, 2019 6:40 pm

Dentis 13, 2718
Dormitories | Evening
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Fionn's stuttering did little to make the oldest sympathetic; he wasn't sure why the boy would stammer so much over the matter but he didn't feel bad for causing it, not in the slightest. He had appreciated the apology, it was true, but it didn't mean that he suddenly didn't mind. It didn't mean that he found the gestures any less sickening, or their questioning any less invasive, and he felt no sympathy for simply telling them to stop. He might've been their roommate, but they were servants just like him--he didn't owe them any explanations.

Lars watched his roommate, watched the scarlet hue that clouded his cheeks even in the dim light of the hearth. Was he embarrassed, or ashamed, or sad? His gaze almost seemed intrigued; calculating if it was only more focused, studying the other blonde as if more concerned with the reasons behind his blush than anything else.

Again with the questions, and Lars almost turned away for the second time that night. His hand grabbed the edge of the covers, holding tightly to the fabric and staying silent as he listened to Fionn continue. And again he spoke as if Lars was some child in need of protection and care, as if he didn't think him capable of being smart enough to stay out of trouble himself when he had done exactly that for years. Who was Fionn to tell him these things? Wasn't he the one that practically bragged about all the trouble he found himself in, and rubbed it in their faces that they were too compliant?

And now he wanted him to keep his head down and stay quiet in fear of some patron?

"He doesn't think that's any of your business," started the older, pushing himself into a sitting position on the edge of his bed, "and he already asked for you both to stop asking. But no. He's never done anything. He hasn't wanted to, and no one's wanted him anyway."

Perhaps if it was someone else, there might've been a sadness there; a disappointment in never being noticed or needed or desired, but Lars' tone was steady. He was sure of his every word, and was still confused as to why it was such a strange notion to them that he had never done anything sexual.

"He's never gotten into trouble, Fionn. Ayden has no reason to punish him for not knowing what oil is for," said the blonde, "he didn't do anything wrong, did he?"

It wasn't a question.

"You've done nothing but tell him he's stupid and weird and pushed him around and asked him questions he already told you not to ask, why should he listen to you? He's known Ayden for years, why is it so important to not be noticed now when he never has been?"

Lars voice was low, but lacked the edge that might've been expected. Rather, the blonde's tone was soft, questioning, genuine, and almost hurt.

"I think you've grown used to your roommates cowering in fear and giving into whatever you want. But, Fionn, I am not your bitch," he tilted his head, going silent for just a moment and tilting his head as he peered across to the boy, "he will be quiet and calm as always. No need to worry about someone noticing him again; he doesn't like questions and wont be asking any more."

Anger seemingly quelled, Lars blinked, sitting still only a moment longer before he moved to lie back down. He pulled the covers over his shoulders, a quiet sigh escaping him as he allowed his eyes to close.

Why did Fionn care if he caught someone's attention? He wasn't exactly a presence to be reckoned with, nor was he distinguishable from the other servants.

"If you're done asking him things, he'd like to sleep. Please."
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Fionn
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Wed Jan 16, 2019 10:32 am

Dentis 13, 2718 | Passive Dorms | Evening
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Fionn had never been good with people. To a degree, he could be charming, he could be friendly when he wanted to be but more often than not, he was grossly insensitive and generally thick. Admittedly, it was to be expected amongst passives because they weren't encouraged to socialise widely but they had had galdori upbringings. While many aspects of "serious" socialisation didn't kick in until past the age of ten, they still had some notion of decorum and how to talk to others. Many had lost the habit or had only kept some bits of it but even those who didn't have such manners cultivated in them, they picked up socialisation skills through talking to their roommates. Fionn had honestly never had the chance for any of it. The boy had been too isolated, both prior to Brunnhold and since being gated, Ayden moulding him in such a way that he was more inclined to lash out than to have a decent conversation. He'd never learned anything about sensitivity and boundaries, his interactions with others more violent and fear-orientated than anything else.

If he'd had any idea how to talk to another person then maybe he wouldn't have so frequently ended up putting his foot in his mouth. He genuinely couldn't help being offensive at times but that didn't mean that he was incapable of being apologetic. Sometimes it was necessary to apologise for his oft total lack of a filter between his mouth and his brain.

To be fair though, it could have been a lot worse. He didn't always blurt out things that popped into his head.

"Sorry, sorry, you said, I just- Sorry!" he stammered out, rubbing at the back of his neck and wincing. He was just making things worse, so much worse. He wasn't trying to offend his roommate further but apparently, he couldn't make a decent apology either. He opened his mouth to apologise and ended up giving himself something new to be sorry for; it was an unfortunately vicious cycle.

While rattling off his nervous apology, he was slow to register what Lars had said at the end but as soon as it sank in, he found himself just letting words flow out, misguided words.

"No one's wanted to- Are they moony?" Fionn blurted out, ready to smack himself in the head for inadvertently admitting his own attraction to the other blond. He did want the other, regardless of whatever eccentricities he might have; it wasn't like Fionn was entirely normal either. But... had they looked at Lars? He was beautiful. Honestly, there was so much about him that was attractive that the blond was finding it difficult not to jump him.

That he was undesirable was... unfathomable. It didn't mean that he needed the other man to know that he was at least a little moony about him. He could feel the heat coming to his face at that accidental share, hoping that the boy just somehow wouldn't notice. In any case, the man didn't seem to feel any sense of loss at missing out on sexual matters, evidently not having any interest in it himself; he wasn't resigned, he just genuinely didn't seem to care.

However, this was more than the uncomfortable talk, more than Fionn's inability to have these sorts of conversations. This was a lot more serious and so when Lars countered his warning about Ayden, the boy opened his mouth to say that the older passive didn't know Ayden, didn't know that he didn't have to do anything wrong to end up in a world of trouble. But the words were stilled on his lips, the young man lacking the confidence to speak up as the other so calmly questioned why he should listen to Fionn.

Why would he listen to him? Why indeed! The blond had spent so much time shooting his mouth off about so many stupid things that how could he ever be expected, be believed when he talked about anything serious? But the true thing that had words shrivelling up on his tongue was the statement that Lars had known Ayden for years.

They were a similar age and it wasn't as if Fionn had a monopoly on their patron, there was no reason why they couldn't know each other. What floored him was the fact that he'd never encountered him before. How could they have known Ayden at the same time and yet never met. He couldn't fathom it. But he obviously didn't know Ayden, not truly, not if he had to ask, not if he'd remained intact for this long.

It made anger flare up at him, hurt as well, further fuel only added to the flames of his emotions when Lars stated that he wasn't Fionn's bitch. The blond was frustrated enough to scream.

"Clocking hell, Lars, I don't want you to be my bitch. I don't- I am trying to look out for you, even if you do think that I'm- I may be a bastard but I'm not trying to force you to do anything," the boy remarked with a bitter edge to his voice, shaking his head and sighing. "You may think you know Ayden but you don't. If you really knew him then you'd know that he's interested in you now. What I said might have put him off. Hope that it did because... if not..."

The boy shrugged, jaw set tightly. "But why listen to me, right? What do I know? Everyone knows that I'm a bottom-spicer."

He grabbed at his bedclothes, flopping down to lie down, angrily hunched up under the covers. There was a finality between the two of them, a sense that any and all conversation was at an end for the evening. Even so, he had to have the final word, quiet, maybe not even fully intended for Lars to hear at all.

"If you really knew Ayden then you'd have had plenty of sex. Interested or not."

Saying that aloud made something twist violently within him, two opposing desires warring within him: the hope that Ayden would never lay a finger on him again and the fear that he would indeed never come near him ever again.
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