Breaking Rules
Tlory fingered the edges of the envelope, fidgeting with it and putting off actually opening the letter for as long as he could. He was entirely certain he didn’t want to know what it said. It wouldn’t be anything good—his mother never wrote him for anything other than to brag or inform him how useless he was and how much he disappointed her, but if he just did this or that for her, she’d love him again.
He should just burn it. Or give it to Macati. That was a good idea, but Macati was out in town, doing some shopping while they did work. Glancing up guiltily, Tlory was unsurprised to find Guylian was still buried in his book; he hadn’t even really noticed when the post had arrived.
Stifling a sigh, because he really was good at taking the stupidest option, Tlory flipped the letter over and broke the seal. Pulling out the letter, he scowled at the flowing purple ink—expensive, as it took magic or a rare dye to make purple ink—and slowly read over his mother’s letter.
It was the usual. She wanted something, though she’d been more careful about demanding things from Tlory since Macati had taken him back on, so it didn’t actually outright say what she wanted.
Shal meowed curiously, rumbling a bit at Tlory as he landed on the table in front of him. He looked sleepy and a little grumpy, so probably Blake had kicked him out of the nest again.
“Hey,” Tlory muttered, holding out his hand. Shal obligingly climbed up, purring a little as Tlory deposited him on his lap. He still hadn’t really mastered the trick of keeping Shal on his shoulder like Guylian carried Kysera.
Discarding the letter on the table, Tlory carefully ran the tip of his finger along Shal’s back. Shal sighed contently, purring more loudly as he curled up against Tlory’s thigh. Tlory slouched down, not really interested in working on the spell Macati had assigned him to translating. Maybe in a minute.
“That doesn’t look like you’re working hard,” Macati said reprovingly from behind him a few minutes later. Because of course he had to come back early and catch Tlory slacking off after he’d busted his ass all morning.
“Yeah, well,” Tlory grumbled, not straightening from his slouch. He tipped his head to the side to see Macati better, not pausing in his careful petting of Shal. Macati didn’t look very amused, but Tlory didn’t really feel like caring too much.
“He worked all morning,” Guylian said distractedly, and Tlory was willing to bet he hadn’t really looked up from his book. “Then I think he got a letter from his mother.”
“You were ignoring me,” Tlory complained, a little annoyed at being so easily snitched on. By Guylian, no less, who was usually more circumspect than just blurting out whatever he thought was wrong.
“What does she have to say for herself?” Macati asked lightly, clasping Tlory’s shoulder lightly as he headed for the letter baskets on the far wall. Tlory shrugged, somewhat mollified by the touch and that Macati wasn’t outright demanding to see the letter.
“She wants something,” Tlory muttered, wishing he didn’t feel so guilty about ignoring her. She didn’t care about him. She just wanted what he could give her—and yet Tlory couldn’t just… dismiss it. “I don’t know what.”
“Okay,” Macati said. Tlory watched, interest piqued when Macati tried without much success to retie his hair one-handed as he sorted through the few letters that had come in while he was out. Macati’s hair was curlier than usual—probably due to the humidity outside—and Tlory wasn’t the only one watching, he noted as Guylian dropped his book with a thump. “What are you going to do?”
“Write her back,” Tlory said off-handedly, as though it wasn’t a big deal. “Not with purple ink—”
Guylian made a muffled noise that sounded a lot like a smothered laugh, but Tlory couldn’t tell because he’d ducked down behind the table to retrieve his book.
“—of course.” Tlory paused, waiting until Guylian popped back up to raise his eyebrows curiously. Guylian flushed, fidgeting with his book, but he was still smiling so Tlory grinned at him. “I’m far too busy with schoolwork—” Tlory shot Macati a glare, for presuming earlier that Tlory had been lazy the entire time he’d been out. “—to come see her and whatever sucker she’s managed to snare this time. They never last more than a week or so, after all.”
“All right,” Macati said. He opened a letter, not really looking at Tlory. Tlory stared at him speculatively—was Macati being dismissive on purpose to keep from annoying him? Perhaps. Or he was genuinely distracted. “How far did you get through your assignments?”
“Uh,” Tlory said, pausing as he tried to reach for the table without upsetting Shal. It didn’t work and Shal meowed sleepily in protest. “I did everything but the last spell translation? You came back early.”
“Keira was pestering me about you two,” Macati said, looking thoroughly put out about it. Tlory snickered—as much as Macati liked to gossip, he hated gossiping about his relationship with them. “Shush, you,” Macati said, obviously amused.
“Come make me,” Tlory suggested, smirking. Then he flashed a grin at Guylian, making a complicated hand gesture that was supposed to mean Guylian needed to come around the table, too.
“Are you having a seizure?” Macati asked, tossing three letters on top of the ever-growing stack he never actually read. Tlory rolled his eyes, scowling at Macati.
“Yes, because you’re still over there,” Tlory said, a little more bitchy than he’d meant to sound. “And so are you.” Tlory glowered at Guylian, carefully scooping up Shal and setting him down on the table. Shal made a noise that was halfway a chirp—those damn bird pixies were rubbing off on him—and halfway a purr, before taking off slowly for the next again.
“Sorry,” Guylian said. Then it finally clicked for him—and Tlory was very probably head over heels for the fool, but really, Guylian was a bit slow when it came to anything that involved other people. “Oh, is this the favor thing?”
“Yes,” Tlory said, sighing loudly. “Ulgh, that was the hand signal.”
“What favor thing?” Macati interrupted suspiciously. Tlory smirked, crooking a finger at him.
“Come over here and I’ll show you,” Tlory said, leering. Macati scoffed, but he was doing that slow, smug little smile that meant he was going to cave in about two seconds. Or as soon as Tlory got his hands on Guylian. Which was not happening yet, because Guylian apparently had to fuss about with his books for a few minutes.
“Guylian?” Macati asked, because he was a sneaky bastard and knew how easy it was to get Guylian to spill the beans. Tlory sat back, grinning cheerfully when Guylian flushed but didn’t say anything; that had been one of the conditions for the returned favor.
Guylian was finally making his way around the table, a small smile playing about his lips as he took his time getting over to Tlory. Probably just to make him squirm, some small measure of revenge for roping Guylian into this—Guylian was sneaky with his revenge like that.
Then he was there, and Tlory ignored Macati to reach up and pull Guylian down, kissing him slowly and intently, combing the fingers of one hand through Guylian’s hair to tug free the ribbon restraining it. Guylian laughed a bit into Tlory’s mouth as his hair fell around his face, his hands braced on the arms of his chair to keep from tipping over.
He kept ignoring Macati—that was the best way to get him interested—making a surprised noise when Guylian took the initiative and carefully straddled his lap. But then, Guylian hadn’t been really adverse to repaying the favor he owed in this manner, so Tlory couldn’t be too surprised.
Distracted by the way Guylian was kissing him—soft and lingering and completely focused on him, like he wanted to strip Tlory down and lick him all over—Tlory missed Macati crossing the room until Guylian pulled away with a smile. His cheeks were pleasantly flushed and Tlory immediately missed being kissed—but watching Macati kiss Guylian up close was almost as good, especially since it gave him the opportunity to work on the ties to Guylian’s shirt.
Macati caught on quickly, keeping Guylian distracted—though he squirmed a bit under Tlory’s hands because Tlory couldn’t quite keep his hands only to the task of removing Guylian’s clothing. Then Guylian was shirtless, his breeches unlaced, and still straddling Tlory’s lap; Tlory quite liked the way this was going.
Guylian squirmed away then, sliding off Tlory’s lap and away from Macati, who was looking far too pleased with himself. Like he’d been the one to orchestrate the whole thing, despite how much he objected to “funny business” in the work room.
Standing up, Tlory took a moment to pull off his own shirt before snagging the front of Macati’s and yanking him a step closer. Macati let him, and then Tlory was being kissed again, and Macati didn’t bother with any niceties, just kissed Tlory deeply, pulling him close and Tlory groaned as Guylian pressed close from behind, his hands deviously teasing, slipping lower and lower and Tlory didn’t, couldn’t focus on one of them, not with them both being so evil at the same time.
Then Macati pulled away, spinning him around before Tlory could do more than utter a wordless protest at not being kissed anymore. Guylian smiled shyly, kissing him briefly before dropping down to his knees and Tlory still couldn’t find the breath to speak as Macati slid his hands down Tlory’s sides, over his hips and lower, sliding off the pants that Guylian had unfastened.
Guylian slowly—deliberately slowly—looked up, and Tlory grumbled under his breath, because delaying was incredibly unfair right now, revenge for the returned favor or no. Macati laughed, low and amused, right next to his ear, before wrapping his arms around Tlory and tugging him back rest against Macati’s still-clothed chest. He was still wearing his pants, too, though there was a very obvious bulge pressing against Tlory’s bare ass.
“You’re wearing too—mmph—” Tlory choked on the last word as Guylian took advantage of his distraction to wrap his mouth around Tlory’s cock. Macati laughed again, but Tlory just groaned, tipping his head back as Guylian slowly, oh-so-slowly, took more and more of Tlory’s cock into his mouth.
Macati’s mouth was hot against his neck, Guylian’s hands hotter on his hips and his mouth burning around Tlory’s cock, and Tlory shut his eyes, focusing on the way it felt, trapped between them both. Then Macati said something—Tlory didn’t catch it, despite Macati’s lips brushing against his ear as he spoke—and Guylian pulled away, sitting back.
“Hey,” Tlory protested, but was completely distracted when Guylian just smiled a bit and rattled off two quick spells in Civomic. Tlory shuddered hard, always disconcerted by the sensation of the first spell, but it was a damn sight easier to prep by spell than hunt down oil or something else to ease the way.
The second was obviously a null spell; Guylian nearly always slipped and said something in Civomic when they lavished too much attention on him. Macati stepped away with a lingering caress, running his fingers along Tlory’s sides before moving to remove his own clothing.
“Come back here,” Tlory ordered crossly when Guylian ignored him in favor of watching Macati undress. Though that wasn’t a bad idea… but he missed Guylian’s mouth—
Yelping—in a completely dignified manner—Tlory turned to glare at Macati for the smack to his ass. Macati just smiled his slow, smug smile, looking so full of himself that Tlory almost told him no—except, then Tlory wouldn’t get laid, because Guylian would probably be upset with him and really, Macati was really, really good at fucking.
“Turn around,” Macati ordered, making a little spinning motion with his hand. Tlory eyed him speculatively, not willing to capitulate quite yet. Macati raised his eyebrows and Tlory sighed loudly.
“You’d better make this good,” he said challengingly. Guylian laughed, then tried to conceal it with a poor attempt at coughing. “And you should get back to what you were doing before.”
“Bossy, bossy,” Macati said, moving closer and turning him around with a gentle touch. Tlory went easily, anticipation making his stomach squirm as Macati guided him over to the work table. Guylian moved with them, ducking partially under the table as Macati had him brace against the table.
Tlory barely managed to keep his arms from giving out when Macati thrust in without more than a teasing whisper of touch for warning, and then Guylian followed a second later, swallowing his cock down with a skill that was still surprising every time he did it.
Tlory didn’t last long, between Macati’s hard, steady, rhythm, Guylian’s mouth, and the way their hands tangled on his hips. Guylian swallowed without a sound, and Macati continued to fuck him, slower and more gently, until he came a moment later with a muffled groan, his fingers tightening over Guylian’s.
Tlory didn’t do more than mutter a half-garbled protest as Macati pulled out, mollified by the light kiss Macati pressed to his shoulder before shoving him at the chair he’d been sitting in earlier. Tlory sprawled bonelessly across it, watching Macati help Guylian out from beneath the table.
Macati tugged Guylian close, kissing him as he wrapped a hand around Guylian’s cock and started to jerk him off. Tlory grinned lazily as Guylian’s eyes slipped shut and he started babbling in Civomic, the words rolling off his tongue effortlessly until, with an exclamation that he still refused to translate for them, he came into Macati’s hand.
“I thought we agreed no more of this up here,” Macati said, but he didn’t look too unhappy about it as he shoved Guylian gently towards Tlory. Guylian stumbled over, looking rather dazed—an excellent look for him, in Tlory’s opinion—and Tlory wasted no time in tugging him into the seat with him. It was awkward and Guylian ended up more sitting on Tlory than anything else, but Tlory was all right with that.
“I like it,” Tlory said cheerfully, nipping playfully at Guylian’s shoulder. Guylian obligingly leaned down and kissed him, slow and lazy, until Macati cleared his throat loudly.
“Downstairs,” Macati said, like they hadn’t just done much worse than kissing up here. “For cleanup, stop giving me that look.”
“I’ll give you whatever look I want to give you-ack!” Tlory jumped as Guylian pinched him, before standing up—still a little wobbly—and heading over to Macati.
“He made me,” Guylian said solemnly, a hint of a smile making his lips twitch. “I was taken advantage of.”
Tlory scoffed. “That’s why you were begging for more in Civomic, yeah?”
“I was not,” Guylian said, but he’d always been a horrible liar. “We should go get cleaned up.”
“All right,” Tlory agreed easily, smiling slowly. Downstairs wasn’t off-limits, and no one had said anything about not getting dirtier before they cleaned up…
Teaching
“I don’t think I can do this,” Guylian said, tugging at the hem of the new shirt. He’d bought it yesterday, along with the new boots and the new pants. They fit perfectly and they were comfortable, but it didn’t help.“I can go with you,” Tlory suggested, grinning like he always did when he was up to mischief.
“I really don’t think I could do it then,” Guylian said, making Macati laugh distractedly. He was reading something or another, sitting at the foot of the bed. Tlory was sprawled behind him, watching Guylian fret in front of the mirror.
“You don’t have to,” Tlory said, nudging Macati’s side with his toes. “It’s Macati who owes the favor.”
“Nathan doesn’t want Macati to pay it back,” Guylian muttered distractedly, frowning at himself in the mirror and trying to quell his nerves. Biting his lip briefly, he turned around to face the bed instead of watching Macati and Tlory through the mirror’s reflection. “I can’t teach.”
“You’ll do fine,” Macati said, finally looking up from his book. He smiled reassuringly, making Guylian’s stomach flutter.
“Yeah, and if anyone laughs at you, I can cast curses,” Tlory chimed in helpfully. “Macati taught me some good ones last week.”
“No curses,” Guylian said, wondering if Tlory would let him look over his notes and plans again. Probably not, unfortunately. “They’re just students.”
“Ah, so they won’t know if you make mistakes,” Tlory said knowingly. He sat up quickly and half-rolled, half-tumbled over to the edge of the bed.
“Tlory,” Macati said, obviously fighting amusement. “I don’t think you’re helping.”
“I’m distracting. I’m an excellent distraction,” Tlory said earnestly. Macati scoffed, and Tlory raised his eyebrows and Guylian smothered a smile because it was obvious that Tlory had accepted Macati’s challenge even if that wasn’t the way Macati had meant it.
Tlory smirked, slow and sultry, leaning into Macati’s personal space. “You don’t think I’m distracting?” Tlory asked, his voice a few octaves lower. Guylian bit his lip, wondering horribly if he could be late to his first lecture –
“The wrong sort of distraction, maybe,” Macati retorted, smiling as he pushed Tlory away. “How’re you coming on the spell revisions I assigned you yesterday?”
Tlory shrugged easily, standing up. “I’ll show you later. You don’t want to make Guylian late on his first day of class, do you?”
“I can’t do this,” Guylian blurted out again, his nerves doubling at the thought of heading to the university.
“You can,” Tlory said, slanting a smile at him as Macati shut his book and set it aside.
“You managed to drill some Civomic into Tlory’s head, and these students are much smarter than he is,” Macati said, earning a grumbled protest from Tlory. “We’ll walk you there. And we’ll wait in Justain’s office. If you have any trouble – ”
“You can come get us and we’ll cast some curses,” Tlory said gleefully, and Guylian nodded, only a little reassured. But it was for Macati – and Nathan, really – and he liked Civomic. Tlory slung an arm around his shoulders, leading him towards the door. “And then I can show you more of my distraction techniques.”
Nesting
Blake woke squished into the most uncomfortable corner of the nest, one wing flattened at an angle which had set it to tingling. Letting out a soft, disgruntled hoot, he shifted back against the other two pixies in the nest, twisting and twitching until his wing was free and back at a proper angle. It would take a few minutes to straighten itself out, and until then he couldn’t escape.Shal had started rumbling at some point during Blake’s wiggles, and Blake reluctantly conceded that perhaps sharing a nest with Shal wasn’t so terrible. Especially when he was half asleep and rumbly.
Kysera, however, was a giant pain. He chirped quietly in his sleep. He took up too much space. He liked to sleep on top of Blake, and that was just unacceptable.
Fluttering his wings in agitation, Blake stared at the other pixies before deciding it was too early to worry about them yet. That could wait until Kysera kicked awake later. Shifting to get more comfortable, Blake curled back into his corner of the nest, making sure his wings were at an angle they weren’t being crushed at.
He woke up again when someone below did something that resulted in an obnoxiously loud noise. Probably Shal’s companion, since Kysera’s was usually quiet enough to make up for Kysera and Blake’s was only loud when he wanted their attention.
The crash woke the other two, unfortunately, and Blake favored them with a cranky look. He couldn’t fly off yet; somehow in his sleep he’d shifted around to pin his wing again. Shal blinked at him sleepily, his rumbling starting as Kysera tried without success to twist free of the snarl he’d worked himself into.
Flapping his wings in an attempt to make them straighten quicker, Blake barely resisted the urge to give Kysera a nudge over the side of the nest when he peered out nosily. He chirped cheerfully and Blake hooted grumpily in response, his vision blurring as his eyes shifted colors in response.
Kysera twisted back, narrowing his eyes, and Blake had half a second to bring his arms up before Kysera launched himself across the nest. Shal hiccupped out a wrangled half-meow, half-purr, but Kysera was undeterred. The stubborn, obnoxious pixie just burrowed close, managing to twine himself around Blake quite thoroughly as Blake tried to get him away.
Kysera chirped in victory when Blake gave up – he didn’t actually want to hurt Kysera, and that would be the only real way to get him off. And then Shal crowded close, still rumbling, and Blake hooted crankily, vowing to hide in his companion’s room for a few hours later, if only to get some peace and quiet.
Argument
“We’re having a fight,” Tlory announced as he appeared at the top of the stairs. Macati looked up from his book distractedly, frowning.“What?” He asked, still parsing the proclamation. Tlory did look mad – he looked amused. “What are we fighting about?”
“I don’t know,” Tlory said, shrugging fluidly as he crossed the room to where Macati was sitting. “Ask Guylian.”
“Why does Guylian think we’re having a fight?” Macati asked, mystified. Sure, he’d been a little short with Tlory earlier, but that was just stress from his approaching recertification test. And he’d apologized, though Guylian might not have been in the kitchen at that point.
“Because you yelled at me earlier,” Tlory said with aplomb, plucking the book from Macati’s hands. “And then you ignored us during dinner.”
“I did not,” Macati objected, not bothering to reach for the book. Tlory would hide it if he did, and he needed it to study for the upcoming test.
“Really,” Tlory said, setting the book down on the work table. “So what did we talk about?”
“Um,” Macati said, drawing a blank. Tlory snickered, shaking his head.
“You’re hopeless,” Tlory said, a teasing grin flashing across his face as he leaned over Macati’s chair. Macati blinked up at him, frowning a little – he really needed to be studying – but then Tlory casually kissed him and settled in his lap without so much as a by your leave.
“Tlory –” Macati began, intending to send him back to helping Guylian. Or reassuring Guylian.
“No,” Tlory said, and kissed him again. Macati gave in after a second, deciding the best way to get back to his studying quickly was to play along. Except, after a moment, he forgot he was just playing along.
“Ow,” Macati muttered when Tlory finally let him up for air.
“I’m not that heavy,” Tlory said breathlessly, grinning briefly before nipping at Macati’s lower lip.
“Yeah, doesn’t your teacher feed you?” Macati asked, sliding his hand underneath Tlory’s shirt and running his fingertips over Tlory’s spine.
“No, he’s very mean,” Tlory said, shifting closer in the chair and kissing Macati again. One of his arms was draped over Macati’s shoulder and the other hand was curled in the front of Macati’s shirt.
Macati laughed a little, far more interested in the feel of Tlory’s skin than what he was saying. Then Tlory sat up, twisting around – painfully – to look at the door.
“He’s not mad at me,” Tlory said, sounding smug. “He was just being a jerk.”
“Hey,” Macati said reprovingly, jostling his legs a bit. Tlory turned back to him, looking completely unrepentant.
“You were,” he said, shrugging a little. “You yelled at me earlier –”
“I apologized for that,” Macati interjected, but Tlory continued to talk right over him.
“- and you’ve been ignoring us for the last week and a half.”
“I have not,” Macati said, objecting even if that part was probably true. He didn’t like taking tests, even if recertifying was never a terrible ordeal.
“You were, sort of,” Guylian said, pausing a few steps away from where Tlory had him pinned to the chair. “Not meanly, but –”
“Yes, meanly,” Tlory said, beckoning Guylian closer impatiently. “You need to make it up to us.”
“I need to –” Macati began, but stopped because he really had been studying too long if he was going to decline the two of them for books.
“You’ll do fine,” Guylian said, smiling shyly as he came into reach. “You’ve studied a lot.”
“Not enough,” Macati grumbled, sliding his hand free from Tlory’s shirt and latching onto Guylian’s wrist. “But it can wait. Apparently Tlory can’t.”
“That’s right,” Tlory agreed, a wicked smirk curving his lips. Guylian’s cheeks obligingly flushed, and Macati smiled, more than willing to make up for not quite but almost ignoring them.
Locked In
Shal flexed his wings briefly, studying the surface he was standing on curiously. He wasn’t really sure how he’d gotten here, but he was sure he couldn’t leave. He’d spent nearly an hour flying around the small room to no avail.
At least the room was interesting. Shal peered curiously at the strange, spined instrument he was currently examining. It was bright, though no sunlight shone through the one window in the room and there was no nest to curl up in. He had spied a stack of soft, fluffy-looking towels in the corner. He planned to investigate that next, if no way out of the room spontaneously appeared.
Edging closer to the spined instrument slowly, Shal rumbled a soft inquiry at it. He didn’t get a response, but he hadn’t expected to. Only Kysera and Blake replied when he rumbled at him; well, that and their companions.
Crouching down next to it, Shal peered at it intently before reaching out to touch. It wasn’t sharp. It didn’t hurt. It didn’t do anything, just sat there. Shal sighed, shifting his wings to keep his balance before deciding that the spined thing, while interesting looking, was really quite boring. Maybe he could convince Kysera to help him drag it up to the nest later.
Deciding the towels deserved investigating, and possibly an experiment to determine whether they were more comfortable than the nest, Shal took flight. He was only halfway there when he heard Blake.
Blake wasn’t as friendly as Kysera, but he had his own charm. He was stubborn and stiff, but he had the most interesting eyes, even if he wouldn’t let Shal investigate them. Which, well, Shal could understand. His investigating tended to involve a bit of poking whatever strange object caught his fancy, and getting poked in the eye really wasn’t high on anyone’s priority list.
Blake’s cranky, resigned hooting sounded close, and Shal meowed curiously, heading towards the sound. Towards the closed door that he’d already investigated a few times. Blake fell quiet for a moment before he hooted, sounding only a little concerned. Shal meowed again, letting Blake know he hadn’t fallen down the sink drain, and studied the door again.
It was firmly shut, like it had been the last few times he’d checked – he had thought he’d gotten in that way, even if he couldn’t really remember. Blake was definitely on the other side of the door. Setting down daintily on the floor, Shal rumbled a purr at Blake, because that always got Blake out of whatever snit he was in. Even if he usually got to rub against Blake at the same time.
Blake grumbled half-heartedly, but he’d stay until Shal figured out how to get out. Or until Blake figured out how to get in. Kysera would too, if he ever figured out where they were. Smiling a bit, Shal decided the wall next to the door was as good as the towels and settled down, making sure he was purring loudly enough for Blake to hear it on the other side of the door.
Guylian paused in the doorway, frowning at Blake and Kysera. Tlory nudged at him, and Guylian absently moved forward, wondering why in the world the bathroom door was shut and why Kysera and Blake were sleeping against it.
“Did you shut the bathroom door?” Guylian asked, crossing the hallway and setting the bag he carried down on the floor. Kysera stirred, chirping sleepily, and from the other side of the door came an answering sleepy meow. Guylian sighed, carefully opening the door a fraction. Blake and Kysera tumbled backwards, and Shal blinked up at him from just inside the door, in the middle of a wide yawn.
Shaking his head, Guylian waited until Kysera and Blake righted themselves to push the door all the way open. Shal climbed to his feet slowly, shaking out his wings before moving to rub his cheek against first Blake and then Kysera, purring loudly the whole way. Smothering a smile, Guylian retrieved his bag and headed towards the kitchen.
