There had always been a distance between them. A safety net. Something to give Frey an illusion of control when giving the older lords what they wanted.

No, not entirely what they wanted.

He'd been firm with his stance on physical intimacy and foolishly relished in the belief that they respected it, all along unaware that they were humouring him. Waiting for that moment of weakness to break him, to render him desperate, forcing him to swallow his pride and self-respect in favour of retaining his place among them.

He should have known it would happen eventually. He should have known it would be Carrigan who succeeded. Out of all the spineless bloodsuckers, he was by far the most sinister and unfortunately cunning to pinpoint those weaknesses, and would not back down until he'd gotten what he wanted.

So Frey said nothing as his boundaries were broken.

"I thought you'd be a little more into this. You used to be so eager before, after all." Carrigan whispered into his ear. "Back when you thought people respected you."

Frey only stared straight ahead, lips pressed tight together as Carrigan continued.

"Where's that whore who made me watch him for years, forcing information out of me just for looking at him?" He unceremoniously dropped Frey's shirt to the floor before reaching around his waist. "I know that excitement wasn't purely for show."

There was no point in denying that. Carrigan had always been Frey's favourite. Powerful, good looking in an older, dignified way, and the only one who'd given Frey's manipulation and extortion skills a run for their money.

But that was before. Before he'd shown that Frey was not exempt from his derogatory opinions.

"Things have changed," Frey therefore whispered, still avoiding eye contact. "Not just because of how you've treated me lately, but... I'm different now."

"Yes, quite so." Carrigan's voice was dry as he grabbed Frey's shoulders. "One setback from my part and you had to go let a servant— a stable boy— ruin you like that..."

He pushed Frey down on his knees.

"... When the only one who should get to ruin you is me."

Frey averted his gaze as Carrigan removed his breeches. Of course he'd seen it several times, but it had always been from afar. It was different. The heat and pressure as it pushed against him made his head spin, and he closed his eyes.

Carrigan grabbed his chin and tilted his head upwards.

"Look at me," he commanded. "Now be good and open your mouth."

Frey released a trembling breath as Carrigan squeezed his cheeks to force his mouth open. Still, he didn't pull away. It was just once. One night, then he could be with Marius.

But what would Marius say? Frey couldn't lie to him or withhold the truth, so he would find out soon enough. Would he understand?

Frey barely registered Carrigan telling him to lick it. He did as he was told while his mind went through the different reactions Marius might have upon finding out what Frey had done. To save him, to save their relationship. To save his family and West Kerilia.

It was the least painful option, he convinced himself as Carrigan thrust into his mouth and he fought to overcome his gag reflexes.

"Watch your teeth." Carrigan delivered a weak slap to Frey's cheek and the latter did his best to oblige, regrettably feeling a kind of satisfaction as Carrigan twitched from his movement. He wished it was all it would take. That he could finish off their deal with just his mouth, but he knew better. Carrigan would have him all night with the intention to use every minute of it, and no amount of instant pleasure would change that.

"This is the best you can do?" Carrigan's tone was cold and more impatient than before as he grabbed the back of Frey's head to push him deeper. "How do you plan on pleasing that filth if you can't even suck him off properly?"

Frey had no response. He had no experience and while he probably could have made a bigger effort at the time he wasn't sure it would have been satisfactory anyway.

After gagging yet another time, Frey pulled away to catch his breath, wiping saliva from his chin with a grimace.

"You're not even trying." Carrigan gave him an unimpressed look before grabbing his arm with a sigh. "Isn't it enough to not take your work seriously?"

He turned Frey around to push him against the bed, leaning forward to whisper in his ear.

"Or could it be that you were impatient for something else?"

"For you to be done, I suppose," Frey managed to respond through the multiple words that had choked in his throat, and Carrigan clicked his tongue.

"Still such a brat, even at your age." He pushed Frey face first down onto the mattress before gripping his hips, raising them for a better view. "I suppose Claus never bothered teaching you how to grow up."

He ran a hand down Frey's back with a near wistful sigh.

"I'll bet he never bent you over his knee to put you in your place, like you so sorely needed." He gave Frey a light slap. "Then perhaps you wouldn't be such a whiny bitch today."

Frey wouldn't bite. He would not entertain the idea of discussing his father at a time like this. Not just because of his wish to leave it out of their current scenario, but because he didn't want to reflect on what he would think. Would his father, despite everything, approve of what he was doing? He was doing it to save West Kerilia after all.

He bit into his lower lip, quietly obeying Carrigan's order to spread his legs more.

He was not so certain about Marius though. He'd never wanted to think about that either. Would his father have minded? Would he have supported Frey and Marius being together, despite what it meant for them? He'd always supported Frey before, so what would he say? What would the person whose opinion had always meant the most to Frey say about it all?

"I'll admit this is quite the pleasant sight." Carrigan ran a hand down Frey's spine to press a finger against his opening. "And you actually made some effort to prepare, I see."

Frey turned his head to stare at a wall, fingers curling into the sheets.

"... I don't want it to hurt."

Carrigan scoffed.

"And you think I do? Think what you want of me, but I was never going to hurt you." He kept teasing Frey's skin. "Besides, you're mine tonight, and I will take care of you as such."

Frey shuddered as a finger slid inside, face flushing as Carrigan slowly moved back and forth.

"To think I finally got to press you down like this though..." Carrigan's triumphant smile seemed evident through the tone of his voice. "... Young Lord Clausson, bowing before me at last."

He bent his finger upwards, eliciting a gasp from Frey before continuing.

"Or... I suppose you're not a 'young' lord anymore, are you? Not like when we first began these nightly meetings."

Frey's blushing face scrunched up, and he clenched his jaw to deny Carrigan further sounds of implied pleasure.

He had at least been old enough to know. To know the men he met with were creeps. That despite his supposed adulthood he was much too young for them, but he'd gone along with it anyway. He'd enjoyed what had turned out to be the illusion of an upper hand, with boundaries enough to keep them at that safe distance.

But they'd all wanted this. They were waiting, just like Carrigan, to mercilessly invade those boundaries if given the opportunity. They could offer up some useful information while biding their time, investing in the young lord while expecting a much greater profit in the end.

Like with West Kerilia.

A cold liquid suddenly hitting the skin just below his tailbone caused him to flinch, and he sucked in a breath as Carrigan rubbed the oily substance around the opening.

"Felt like we needed some more." He slid a finger inside again, only moving it slightly before adding another one.

Frey's hands convulsed against the mattress, and despite his attempts to still them his fingers kept cramping as if indifferent to his signals.

"Focus," Carrigan's voice broke through as he squeezed around him. "I told you to move your hips back."

Another sharp breath escaped Frey's lips as he sank deeper into Carrigan's touch, and he couldn't help but feel remorse. Sure, he was doing it for a greater reason that he hoped Marius would understand, but he was still letting Carrigan that close despite everything, and then his body had the nerve to feel pleasure too?

It couldn't be helped, he knew. He was oh so familiar with his body not listening to him, and sensations like these were out of his control. They were natural reactions.

He closed his eyes as an oil covered hand closed around him, stroking him slowly at first before increasing in pace.

"So I'm assuming you'll be in this position with him as well?" Carrigan chuckled to himself while continuing his rubbing. "Not like you have much to contribute in this area anyway."

Frey kept his eyes promptly shut despite the flustered warmth spreading across his cheeks. He was taunting him as always, but Frey wouldn't listen. He just had to imagine something else. He could imagine it was Marius touching him.

Oh, how he wished it was. If only Carrigan hadn't interrupted them. If they had been allowed to continue in the hay, which would never have been Frey's preferred choice of location in theory, but damn how badly he wanted it back now.

"Why so amiable all of a sudden?" Carrigan inquired, slowing down as Frey relaxed into his touch. "Mind shutting down on you already?"

Frey didn't reply, but unfortunately Carrigan caught on quickly.

"You're not thinking about him, are you?"

No reply to that either, but Carrigan wouldn't have it. He released Frey only to turn him around on his back instead, grabbing his chin to tilt it upwards as he leaned over him.

"Look at me," he commanded, but Frey could not obey. His eyes flickered towards anything else in the room, trying to find another spot to focus on while Carrigan repeated himself. "I said look at me."

He managed a glance. A brief, mind crumbling glance that made his body tense up, but he'd done what he was told nonetheless.

And it was good enough for Carrigan. With one hand pressing against Frey's thigh and one spreading him open he finally pushed his tip inside.

"Relax," he mumbled into Frey's ear as the latter held his breath behind tightly shut lips. "You're not gonna enjoy yourself like that."

It was easy for him to say, but Frey's body had other plans. His fists were clenched above his head and despite his efforts to breathe calmly it seemed his lungs had taken the shallow approach. For every time Carrigan slipped in and out it was like a jolt through his chest, and as he finally pushed all of it inside Frey couldn't hold back the weak moan he'd tried to stifle in his throat for so long.

Carrigan smirked.

"See? Much better when you're not keeping it in, isn't it?"

Frey still placed a hand over his mouth, eyes squeezing together as gasps escaped him with every thrust.

"Stop it." Carrigan forced Frey's hand away. "And didn't I tell you to look me in the eyes?"

"I can't." Frey's voice was frail, barely audible, and Carrigan did not care for it.

"You have to," he insisted under a heavy breath before going deeper again. "I want you to remember, Frey. Remember who made you feel like this."

Frey made a face as he tried again, vision only reaching Carrigan's chin before he turned his eyes away.

"Do you think he can pleasure you like I can?" Carrigan leaned closer, tobacco-scented breath hitting Frey's nose. "For you to turn to a servant for this... What kind of a dark place did you enter in order to sink that low?"

"You..." Frey hissed through his teeth, chest heaving as he gathered his words. "... Are as rock bottom as it gets."

Carrigan let out a low, yet sharp laugh.

"If I'm that bad, Frey..." He tapped Frey's cheek before thrusting inside again. "... Why are your eyes rolling back?"

"I'm..." Frey blanked. He tried to think of a comeback but the waves of pleasure blurred his thoughts.

"Well, if you love servants that much..." Carrigan grabbed Frey's hair to pull him along, forcing his stumbling feet forward until they reached the large window. "... Why don't we let them watch?"

"Stop it!" Frey's eyes widened and he made a futile attempt to back away as Carrigan pushed him against the cold glass. "Someone's gonna—"

"That's the point, idiot." Carrigan still held his hair in a firm grip before getting in position to enter him again. "And what's the harm? Unlike with your worm of a lover, no one's gonna bat an eye if they see you with me."

"Of course they would," Frey hissed, knowing multiple people who'd be aghast by the mere idea.

Most of all, Marius.

"Well, let's hope for your sake it's late enough for everyone to be inside then." Carrigan pressed inside, grinding his hips hard against Frey to conjure another poorly suppressed moan.

"Not here." Frey finally resorted to pleading. "Just... Please, not here."

Carrigan let out a deep sigh, but relented by pulling out again to shove Frey backwards.

"Such a bore," he noted before making Frey kneel in front of a full length mirror. "But I don't know why I expected any different."

Frey shut his mouth to turn a groan into a soft whimper as their bodies collided again, and despite the glaring sight in front of them he would not look into the mirror. He'd rather never witness it.

"You know, perhaps you're right," Carrigan continued between his grinding. "Perhaps this is too good for you. For someone like me to bother with a wretched display like you, even before your decision to mate with filthy vermin."

He had the audacity to stroke Frey's scar, and the latter gritted his teeth with a burning urge to bite the man's hand off.

"So you know what I think?" Carrigan continued, leaning over to bury deeper into Frey. "I think a 'thank you' is in order. For granting you something like this, and for my promised silence."

Frey's body shook, hands twitching again. Why would he have to do something like that? Why would he have to thank him?

A harsher thrust forced a cry out of him, and his lips trembled as he gathered enough composure for the words.

"... Thank you." He stared down at the floor, mind in disbelief that he'd said it, but Carrigan let out a breath of immense pleasure.

"Wow," he whispered, twitching inside Frey again. "Turns out pathetic brats grovelling before me really gets me going, huh."

Frey couldn't deny his body the sensation either, no matter how much his mind wanted to. No matter how much he wanted to turn around and punch that smug face. The pleasure was building up, pressure against his hips growing in intensity and pace as his face grew increasingly flustered.

It will be over soon. It will be...

He lost his train of thought, barely registering Carrigan returning him to the bed before beginning to rub him again, shivers running through him as his head was pushed down against the mattress.

It stifled his moans, and he gratefully embraced it, burrowing his face into the sheets as Carrigan changed his rhythm, hitting his weak spot again and again until Frey couldn't hold it in anymore.

"Look what a mess you're making," Carrigan whispered through a groan, losing a battle of his own as Frey's body tensed up around him, but despite a stifled moan suggesting he'd reached the same state as Frey, he did not seem the slightest ready to quit. "Let's hope you'll do a little better the second time at least."

Frey's mind was about to give up. His eyes were empty as he sank down against the bed, panting and uncaring that his stomach got messy.

"Just enjoy it while it lasts," he murmured, hoping he'd at least get a little rest before continuing, and Carrigan chuckled.

"You're in no position to be this stubborn, you know? To think all it took to make you sacrifice your last piece of self-respect was a stable boy."

He patted Frey's head with another soft laugh.

"I'm sure your father would be so proud of you."