goodfellow | for Thomas

Lea sniffed, giving Robin an unimpressed look as Thomas slowly turned his head to look at her. "Tut, now, puck. I liked you better with your lifeblood staining my slippers, I must admit." She sighed and slid from her perch, circling around the bed casually, though she was watching Robin and his blade the whole while. "As for invitations, I go where I please, and the little vamp is bound to serve me at my whim, no matter what depraved acts he's engaging in." She clucked her tongue and directed her words at Thomas. "Really, pet? Women's undergarments?"

"I'll come when I'm ready," Thomas growled through clenched teeth, pulling away from Robin's fingers. "Now get out."

Robin pulled himself off of the bed, standing but not moving closer to her.

"What the hell is she talking about, Thomas?" he growled, not taking his eyes off of her.

Thomas shifted so he was sitting on the bed, stormy grey eyes shooting daggers at the faerie. He clenched his jaw and didn't answer.

But Lea was all too willing to fill the silence if Thomas wasn't. "Did he not tell you, sweet?" she asked Robin innocently, tilting her head and looking like the cat that ate the canary. "Did you not think that your continued existence came with a price?" She chuckled and added in a mocking coo, "One your pretty little Thomas was all too willing to pay."

Thomas wished at that moment that he was anywhere but here. He refused to look at Robin, keeping his gaze on the treacherous fae bitch instead.

Robin dropped the knife to his side, and turned his head to look at Thomas incredulously. "She saved me? What did you give her?" His tone of voice suggested he already knew he wouldn't like the answer.

"My service," Thomas answered quietly, fingering the chain around his neck.

"And a poor service it is turning out to be, little phage," Lea added tartly.

Robin snapped his gaze back up to the woman, staring daggers at her.

"Whatever you need him for can't wait until I've finished fucking him?"

Lea waved a dismissive hand at Robin. "I don't want it to wait," she informed him archly. "He is mine through fealty thrice-pledged, and if I require him for a task, he cannot refuse me."

"I'm not refusing, I'm postponing," Thomas snapped.

"Do you really think you're going to get anything useful out of him when he's got blue balls?" Robin snapped.

He crossed the room toward the woman, the knife still at his side, but stopped just short of her. "So you saved me. You made a good bargain, I doubt most would consider me worth that much."

"I'll admit, I was surprised by his devotion," Lea purred, watching Robin with an amused smirk. "He did not even try to bargain." She sniffed. "Amateur."

"I'm right here," Thomas muttered, yanking the blanket over his lap. "You can stop talking about me like I'm not."

"It's not devotion," Robin snapped.

He looked over at Thomas then at the woman sitting on his dresser, and said, "I'm going to get a drink." And walked out of the bedroom, still naked.

Thomas sighed as he watched Robin walk out of the room. If the puck disappeared on him again, he would kill Lea. Somehow.

"I am not your slave," he said to Lea in a low voice once they were alone. "I'll do what you want, but I'm not going to rearrange my life for you."

Lea arched a brow. "You should have been more careful with your terms then, pet. You agreed to do my bidding. I bid you to do so now."

Thomas' jaw tightened and he crossed his arms over his chest. "Make me," he growled.

The faerie's eyes narrowed and she simply stretched out a hand toward him, then abruptly clenched it into a fist. Pain shot through Thomas, through every cell in his body. He convulsed backward, hitting his head against the headboard without even feeling it, a breathless gasp the only sound he could make before the pain stole even his breath. "That can be arranged," Lea growled, but Thomas didn't hear the words.

Even as he left the room, Robin's senses had been keenly aware. And he was still in the doorway when that exchange took place.

A glance over his shoulder, barely, just enough to see the pain in Thomas' expression, and then the knife in his hand was flying through the air toward the woman's throat.

Lea's gaze shifted toward Robin and she held out a hand to stop the knife flying toward her. She precisely pinched the blade between thumb and finger, halting its progress far before it could imbed itself in its target, but the moment she touched it she hissed in pain and it dropped to the floor.

Thomas gasped as the pain vanished, lying still and trying to catch his breath.

Lea glared at Robin, biting back the outraged threat she would make if he were human. But he wasn't, and he could pose a real threat to her if he wished, much as she hated to admit it. Without looking at Thomas she murmured, "Come to me soon, phageling. I shan't wait long, and you won't like it if I have to fetch you a second time." She shot one last venomous look at Robin and disappeared.

Robin hadn't expected the knife to hit her, and in fact, it had precisely the effect he'd hoped. When she was gone, he walked over and picked up the knife, and then finally, turned back to Thomas.

"Anything you want to tell me?"

Thomas was still breathing heavily, not daring to move. When Robin asked him that he just breathed a few more times, then said in a somewhat strained voice, "I'll be okay. Thanks for your concern."

"I just got rid of her didn't I? Action should be more welcome than platitudes."

Thomas honestly had no idea how Robin had gotten rid of her, but as he was no longer in excruciating pain and she was gone, he'd clearly done something.

He took a deep breath and sat up, wincing as his muscles protested, feeling sore and stiff as if he'd pushed himself too hard in a full-body work out. "...It's not permanent," he said quietly at last. "She doesn't have me forever."

"How long?" Robin was still in the doorway, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed.

It wasn't a question Thomas wanted to answer. "I need a drink," he said instead, getting out of bed and moving toward the door, toward Robin, clad only in the black panties.

Robin's erection had flagged during Lea's untimely arrival, but it stirred to life again at the mere sight of Thomas climbing out of the bed.

He moved aside to let him pass, watching him as he moved toward the kitchen.

And once Thomas was facing the bar, reaching for a glass, Robin was behind him, hands on his waist, breath hot against the back of his neck. He didn't say a word, just stood there breathing and touching.

Thomas inhaled, slow and deep, his eyes growing silvery as he responded to Robin's touch, to his proximity. He poured some whiskey into the glass and took a sip as he shifted his weight back toward Robin, wanting to feel more of him, to taste Robin's renewed arousal more deeply. They were so damn good like this, so well-suited, at least in the bedroom.

"I'm not going to thank you," Robin said softly, hands sliding down the panties and back up. "But I will remind you why you at least had the illusion that I was worth it."

And he slid his hand down the back of the panties and two fingers inside Thomas without preamble, finding him still slick inside from earlier. He bent his head and bit down on his shoulder.

Thomas knew that he would make the exact same deal all over again if he had to, but he wasn't going to tell Robin that. Things between them were too tenuous as it was, lately. He remained silent until Robin's fingers slid inside of him again, until the puck's teeth sank into his skin. Then he groaned, setting his glass down with most of the liquid still remaining, bracing himself against the bar as he slid his legs a little wider apart, his breathing quickening. "Right here," he murmured. "Fuck me just like this."

"Oh yes, I have every intention," Robin growled, and pulled his fingers out. He put both hands on Thomas' shoulders and shoved him down farther, effectively bending him over the bar. This was not nice, it was not meaningful. It was a fuck, and it was fucking good, and it was all about primal, physical pleasure.

He ripped the panties off with one quick, fast jerk of his hand.

Thomas gasped as the lace tore away, rolling his hips in invitation as he pressed his forearms and hands to the bar, bracing himself. "You're so fucking hot," he panted, though those weren't exactly the words going through his head. I love this. I love you. And I'm so afraid I'm going to lose you.

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