The next day, Mickey's friends were meant to come visit. Mickey sat Thairn down beforehand.
"How should I refer to you, dear Romeo?"
"Refer to me?"
"I was using 'she' when you were Alanna. Is it 'he' now, or 'they,' or...?"
"How much do your friends know?"
"About you? Basically nothing. I told them I'd bring a date along. I didn't specify gender. Or species."
"Should I pretend to be human?"
"You don't have to. They're not connected to the mob."
"Do they know about magic?" It was policy, not to enlighten too many mundane humans. For the faeries, to keep dangerous knowledge from spreading further and giving the humans more power to wield. For wizards, too, a mixture of self-protection and holding power. And for other beings, all kinds of reasons--to stay alive, to keep prey easy to find, to keep out of a cage.
"Dani, the younger sister, has it. Her brother doesn't. Not sure what they know about fae, their knowledge of the magical can get spotty, but they both practically live with an angel and Jack's dating a vampire, if that helps any."
"An angel. That's rare."
"Yeah. They go to the local Catholic church on Sundays, then he spends the rest of the week shooting monsters. He's fun. Cute, in that just might kill you kind of way."
"Church? Does he remember any more than the others tend to?"
"Do they ever? No, as far as I can tell, he's just guessing. And hoping. But he doesn't confess his deepest secrets to me. I'm not exactly one of the good guys."
"I'm surprised he hasn't come after you, then."
"He did once, over a misunderstanding. But we managed to patch things up."
He was baiting, Thairn knew it. "A misunderstanding?"
"Apparently I can be mistaken for a serial killer. Who knew?"
Thairn lifted an eyebrow.
Mickey didn't clarify. "Anyway, he cares about the Webbs. I care about the Webbs. I keep the magical government helpful and don't bring my mob business here. It's enough common ground to live on."
"And Jack's vampire?" This angel killed "monsters", after all, and most monsters were once human.
"Only bites the willing. She's built a whole business on it. People drive in from out of town for her to bite them."
"A professional vampire. Interesting." Too bad for Illa, that he made for such poor food. He might have been intrigued, if his fiction tastes were anything to go on. "Well, if all that's the case, and you don't think it will end out in trouble with your family, then you can tell them I'm fae."
"And how I refer to you, gender-wise?"
"To your friends? I suppose anything in private. Except 'it', of course, don't use that."
"Of course. You know I wouldn't."
An affectionate peck. "Out in public, please only use 'he', at least while I'm dressed like this. I guess it doesn't matter here in Peach Blossom, but Tobias is 'he', I don't want my cover blown. If I were in a female identity, I'd have you use 'she'."
"Okay. I'll remember."
"Do you have a preference, for yourself?"
"I'm not really out to my friends. Please don't use anything but 'he'. We've both got secret identities to keep."
"Mm. What would you prefer I call you in front of Illa, in private? Are you out to him? So much happened, those few days you were together..."
"I think I am? I don't know if I made it explicit. But I don't mind being out to Illa." He scratched the back of his head. "For pronouns... 'he' is fine. It's what I'm used to. Besides, wouldn't want you to slip."
"I'm a dashing spy. I never slip."
"You're just begging for innuendo, aren't you."
"Mm."
"What should I use for Illa? I've picked up on you using 'he', but I don't know if that was just because he was Rhett."
"Probably 'he'. And whatever his current guise is is undoubtedly male--he hasn't taken a female identity in over fifty years. He'll get very confused if you ever call him 'she'. I don't think he'd mind 'they', but not in public, not with his cover."
"Does he identify as male?"
"He's fae."
Mickey shrugged. "Gabriel?"
"That's a human thing."
"Are you sure?"
"I... you exist, don't you."
"I do."
"I suppose if a human's gender could be a little fae-like, it could go the other way. I've never thought of it before. It just seemed like a preference--a lot of fae who work in Human have them."
"You could ask."
"I suppose."
When the friends came, Mickey didn't seem to mind introducing Thairn to them--and did use "he".
"I knew you were gay," the younger sister, Dani, said.
"No," Mickey said, "I'm afraid you still haven't guessed it right, and you're still far too young to explain my deviant sexual habits to. In front of your blushing virgin brother, no less. You'll mar his innocence."
"Mickey," the older brother, Jack, said, "I'm not... don't talk to my sister that way, it's awkward."
If Thairn weren't standing so close to them, she wouldn't have known they were siblings. Jack was big in every direction, even taller than Mickey, while Dani was short and pear-shaped. Jack's accent Midwestern, with traces of Southern and Bostonian so faint Thairn only barely noticed them, while Dani's accent was thickly Georgia-Southern. Even their fashion tastes contrasted, Jack in a pale blue polo and Dani in home-modified punk-wear. The only thing they seemed to have in common was their race--both Black--and the little details in the nose and ears that marked them out as related. Probably the eyes, too, but it was hard to tell with Dani's makeup.
"He can't be that much older than me," Dani said, "from how he looks."
"Looks can be deceiving," Mickey said. "It's my cradle that's being robbed here."
"No, we only ever robbed your godfather's, I'm afraid." Thairn sipped his tea. "Anyway, it's pleasant to meet you. Mickey made muffins yesterday, if you'd like any."
"Actually, I thought I'd take you both out to lunch," Jack said. "Thought we could catch up?"
"You might want to leave the frilly apron behind," Dani said. It had been washed since that first day. "You look ridiculous, by the way."
"It was a gift and I look perfect, but I will concede to your delicate sensibilities."
Dani snorted, and Thairn leaned back and just watched for a bit, the three of them chatting, teasing each other with old jokes. Mickey clearly hadn't told them a lot of things, but he was still far more relaxed than she'd ever seen him in the Morley mansion, and the beat of his heart said the same.
"It's nice to see you around your family," Thairn said, as they were leaving for the restaurant.
"You saw me plenty around my family, and I don't think much of it was all that nice."
"No, not the Morleys, except perhaps Greta. Your real family. The one you've chosen." Thairn tilted his head to indicate the Webbs.
"Ah." His chest lifted and fell with a breath. "Yeah. I think you're right."
They left the suite with the Webbs, and Thairn tried to shift modes, to hold a little off from Mickey. That was the problem of coming in a male identity, after all, that they should probably hide themselves in public. Like Illa and Harry, so long ago, or like other lovers Thairn had been with, over the years. Things were getting better, but only so much.
But Mickey reached out, and took Thairn's hand in his, laced their fingers together. And led them out into the day.
The op went off successfully. Illa met with Gabriel after, and it felt strange to meet him with neither bruises nor collar, just a talk between equals. Gabriel was polite about it. Stayed seated, and distant, his hands kept visible, his guards minimal. As few reminders as possible of what he'd done to Illa. What he'd been to Illa.
"You remember your bargain?" Illa asked.
"I do." Gabriel tapped out his cigar to ash it. "I wouldn't break this bargain even if it had no binding. Not that kind of man."
"I hoped as much. So you, and all your organization, you won't ask her our secrets, or try to get them indirectly."
"Or tell them if we hear them, no. This is all on a need-to-know basis for my people, too."
"And this business, this new life..."
"It's only barely with the mob. A bartender, for the club, and she can move on anytime. We've got her apartment covered, everything."
"A lot to do for a stranger."
"Oh, don't worry. The bargain is not unequal. It means everything to me, to be able to do this for someone else."
"Good."
"Rhett. You can fix home."
"Saving just Perrine was hard enough. Home's a little big for me to fix."
"Well, you ever decide to, you got resources here."
"I'll keep it in mind." Fixing a whole country, a whole world? Helping his parents' slave flee to Human couldn't compare. Helping Gabriel take over the Morley mafia couldn't compare. Gabriel thought too big. Didn't he?
Maybe Illa could talk to Thairn about the Aurvo'sha slaves, at least. Thairn's family was far more intimidating to take on than Illa's own... but at least it was more on the Morley level, less on the entire-world level. A start.
And he had friends in low places, now, to help him with it.
Illa arrived at the hotel to be pulled through the wards by Thairn, who took him straight into a hug. He might have fought it before, which was probably why Thairn hadn't done those hugs much before, but now it felt like coming home, more than his visit home had been.
It was a relief for Thairn not to look like Alanna anymore. Thairn would likely get assigned a female identity again soon, but that would still be a person who dressed a little different, who didn't use that name, who didn't bear those mannerisms. Who didn't have to torture him or pretend to loathe him.
Instead it was Thairn-as-Tobias hugging him, which shouldn't remind him at all of Thairn-as-Teddy, but Illa could see it in the spark of his eyes, that same glimmer he'd gotten when Illa had first told him about his preferences for "bread and milk." And then Thairn picked up Illa's things to put with the other luggage, and they went further into the suite.
Mickey was in the kitchen, wearing a frilly apron as he cooked. "I hope you packed good knives. I've been chopping onions with a butter knife and it hasn't worked at all."
"I did," and Illa got them, went to the kitchen and started trying to figure out what Mickey was making. It didn't seem to involve a recipe, but it did involve a lot of chopping, so they split up the job on makeshift cutting boards. It was awkward and tight in the small kitchenette, Illa having to hold his wings close, constant bumps into each other. And even though it wasn't his recipe, part of him was half-inclined to throw Mickey out of his kitchen, because apparently Illa got possessive about kitchens, who knew?
"Ow." Illa cut himself. Mickey put out his hand to heal it. That healing magic had a warm feeling to it now, where it hadn't before. Something of Thairn's? Illa went to the sink to wash the blood off, caught sight of Thairn watching them both. Thairn had noticed Illa's irritation, he was sure.
He sighed. He could be at least as good at sharing the kitchen as he was at sharing Thairn. Thairn hadn't put the collar back on Illa yet, but he let the memory of autumn leaves bring him a little more center, more calm. Maybe he could find a better spot to chop vegetables.
"Hey, could you show me how to chop like that?" Mickey asked, once Illa had dried his hands.
Illa blinked, looked down at what Mickey was doing. "Sure. You're holding the knife wrong, for one." Illa adjusted Mickey's hands, the contact suddenly not making Illa prickly, because this was instruction, and he didn't get to teach people cooking often. "And you need to do it like this..."
It worked better after that, a different dynamic where Illa could feel a little more control, even though Mickey was still directing the recipe and the steps. A better give-and-take, that took them all the way from sautéing ("Make sure the oil is hot first, use a piece of onion to test it." "Okay, get me the garlic, too.") to pouring in the broth for stew (Mickey used magic to get the water from the sink to the stove, and "accidentally" splashed Illa on the way, and left him standing there wet and dripping and trying to keep a straight face, before he scolded Mickey for not sifting in the starch correctly.)
Once it was boiling, Mickey insisted he needed to carefully watch it to ensure it didn't sprout gremlins from the magic use, and that perhaps Thairn and Illa should find some other way to entertain themselves? Hint hint, the bedroom door had a soundproofing ward, hint hint?
"Everything alright?" Thairn asked, once they were behind the door, the ward.
"It's fine. Is that...?"
"He could walk through it, but not hear through it unless he undid it with his magic, I don't think."
"Okay."
"Are you the kitchen's jealous mistress?"
"Something like that. Teaching helps." He lay back on the bed. "Is there only one bed?"
"There's a sofa bed. He's volunteered to make a couch fort and camp out there. But..."
"But..."
"I'd rather have you both here, if we can work it out. I brought you extra pajamas."
"I'll try. I don't know how much you'll get to see him, after this. Does he snore?"
"No, pretty quiet. He sprawls, but I'll take the middle and shield you from it."
"Good. I'll be overheating in pajamas if I'm not on the edge."
"Ah, good point. Maybe I should be sleeping naked."
"Whatever you like. I don't think either of us minds."
"Mm. He seems to like seeing me naked."
Illa shifted his head so it was on Thairn's lap, let Thairn pet his hair, his cheeks and temples.
"I'm glad you found him." Illa reached up to brush a knuckle against the edge of Thairn's mouth. "It's good to see you happy. I'm holding onto a few too many tragic tales, for you."
"Thank you for continuing to bear them." Thairn leaned into Illa's touch. "I'm not sure how much of this I should give you to carry, since he's still alive."
"I'll be here, when you figure it out. You can tell me anything you want, about the two of you."
"I've still got to figure out how much I can say about you."
"He knows what we are to each other, that's a start. And you know what we have to keep secret, for the job. The rest... I guess we'll have to figure it out."
"Do you mind... how much can I do with you, in front of him? And vice versa?"
"I didn't mind the public play we did in the city dungeons. So, however much you're both comfortable with. He can hurt me, too, if you want, but not do anything sexual."
"Mm. I'll have to gauge his interest. The rest?"
"You can do anything with him. If it starts to bother me, I'll say, or I'll just go to the other room. And if you want privacy, I'll work with that."
"Mm. You know, your clothes are wet."
"Are you going to have me take them off? I'll be cold."
"I'll tell you something to put on instead, then. I didn't get to fit what to wear today into the message, since Mickey was the one who dropped you the reservations."
That put a tingling warmth in Illa's chest. "I think I'd like that. Will you put my collar on me?"
"Yes." The voice Thea's, for a second, and effusive.
Illa told Thairn where it was in Illa's bag, then obediently took off his clothes, skin running over with goosebumps in the air conditioning. Thairn took the collar from the luggage, ran his fingers over the leaves for the first time in months.
"You've been taking good care of it," Thairn said. "This is polished."
"It's yours." The words caught a little, around the emotion. "I wear it when I read your letters, the way you said."
"Good."
Thairn clicked it on Illa. Put his clothes on him, too, even though Illa was usually the one doing the dressing as submission. But that sure hand guiding arms through sleeves, wings through holes, fixing everything exactly into place, there was something dominant in it when Thairn did it. Covering Illa, protecting him, making him. By the time Thairn was done, Illa was at his knees on the floor next to the bed, in deeper under than he'd expected, eyes closed, swaying a little when pushed. In that space where Thairn could do anything.
Thairn undid the first few buttons of the white shirt, exposed a little of Illa's chest, the collar. "There we go." Slid a finger down his throat. "Too much white, I think." And bit him, intense and hard, left him quivering, made him whimper a little. He'd been too busy with his new assignment to find a new play partner; no one had hurt him in months, not in the good way.
"I think the stew can wait a bit, dear," Thairn said, and wrapped a hand around his throat, pushed his head back into the side of the bed. Not enough to choke, just enough to threaten, while Thairn tugged at Illa's earlobes with his teeth. Thairn pulled back and slapped Illa, jarring and stinging and perfect, adjusted his grip so he could bite Illa again, more sharp desire, maybe even--
His wings. He couldn't move his wings, they were pinned against the bed, and this mattered, mattered intensely, out of nowhere, and it all went from good to panic, and he couldn't, couldn't--
Thairn read it off him, backed away. Didn't even touch to take the collar off. Let him sit there, recover, until he stopped hyperventilating, until his heart rate was almost like normal.
"I'm sorry," Thairn said.
"Me, too."
Thairn came to take the collar off, then, and Illa couldn't wait for it to be off, then ached for it when it was gone.
"You look devastated," Thairn said.
"I don't want it to be this way. I just want to belong to you, and everything be fine."
"What I did to you wasn't fine."
"But you didn't want to do it."
"I don't think trauma much cares."
"It does a little." Illa sighed, leaned back, though with a gap this time, between the mattress and his wings. "Not enough."
"Was there a particular trigger...?"
"My wings got trapped against the bed." Just saying it made his chest tighten, his lungs feel inadequate for air.
"Okay. I'll try not to do that, then."
"I like the clothes you picked out," he offered. He felt no need to take those off. If anything, they were comforting.
"I'm glad." Thairn fidgeted. "I was going to get out a cushion, but would you rather eat in a chair, for lunch...?"
"No. I want to sit at your feet. You're comforting, somewhat, even though in other ways, it's... it's complicated."
"I know," Thairn said, to the it's complicated. "I didn't go through that, but we all have our traumas, mm?"
"Yeah." Illa knew all the reasons Thairn was so familiar with the Technology Department, because bureaucracy was what Thairn did to escape that.
Thairn set the collar on the bedside table, and they left the room for lunch. Mickey promised he'd slain all the stew gremlins, and that was entirely the reason anything had boiled over and left a crusty mess on the stovetop. He set the table for them, at first, but then got out an ottoman and a towel for Illa to rest his stew on when he saw Illa settle onto the floor cushion. Mickey didn't ask if everything was okay, but he seemed to work extra hard on cracking jokes and the most excruciatingly terrible puns for the entirety of lunch, filling up the dead space from Illa's silences. By the end, Illa had his head leaned against Thairn's knee, and Thairn was absently petting him, and things felt a little better.
Later that afternoon, Illa asked for the collar again, for pain again. Thairn bent Illa over the couch this time, got one of the canes Illa had packed, and striped Illa up the ass and down the legs, leaving his wings, his whole back, untouched and free while he clung to the cushion and whispered pleas for more, more, the cane snapping against him, the sting taking away everything, leaving him with only sensation, all else blocked out. Thairn cooled Illa back down with lighter taps until he'd loosened that grip on the cushions a little. Didn't kiss the welts and bruises better, let him enjoy their ache as he sat recovering afterward.
Mickey was watching with a curious expression, had perhaps been watching the whole while, but Illa had been too far gone to notice. "Aftercare?" Mickey asked Thairn. "That's a thing, right?"
"Not touching him is his aftercare, but you can bring him some juice if you're worried about him."
Mickey did, and it was strangely touching. Illa drank it, eyes on them as Thairn talked to Mickey, knees bumping, fingers tangling, Thairn going in for hugs until Mickey's head was in Thairn's lap and Thairn was running hands down Mickey in quick, bright flares of affection. Thairn always had to occupy himself when he couldn't touch Illa, with a book or a chore or a drink, and it was good to see Thairn take all that post-beating touch-need and put it somewhere more responsive.
Mickey saw Illa watching, took it as a sign he was sober enough to talk to. "Cooking question."
Illa finished off the last gulp of juice. "Cooking question?"
"Do you have any intention of using skewers in cooking for the rest of the week?"
What? "Not particularly, no."
"Because the hotel is outfitted with these long metal skewers in with the kitchen goods for some reason--couldn't give us a real knife, but they could give us skewers--and I was wondering if you'd ever tried using those as a cane."
"Ah." He'd seen them, in the drawer. "They're steel, I think?"
"Maybe over some pants," Thairn suggested. "Though I guess, if they're skewers, they'd be sharp..."
"They have a little loop on one end, and they're long enough that you could grip it with a glove at the other, I think."
"Well." A sadistic gleam in Thairn's eye. "Then perhaps. I bet it would leave some nice marks, if you wanted to have marks, dear."
Illa could already feel the wooden cane forming some, but. "Yes. I think I do."
They were in their evening wind-down, arrayed on the hotel couches, when Thairn decided to talk to Illa about his earlier conversation with Mickey, about gender. "Dear, I have the strangest question."
Illa lifted an eyebrow.
"Mickey and I were discussing gender last week. He's..." Thairn turned to Mickey. "Have you told him yet?"
"What, my gender? I think I cracked a Romeo and Juliet joke when you introduced us, that counts, right?"
Illa looked between them, query in his eyes, and waited.
"Don't tell anyone," Mickey said, "but I'm... between genders at the moment? That moment having been my whole life. Basically, both, both is good. Please use 'he', though, it's fine."
"Ah." Illa's face unmoved.
"I need to come out to someone who'll be terribly shocked about it at some point. This isn't nearly as fun."
"The Webbs?" Thairn suggested.
Mickey shivered. "You're right, this is far less nerve-wracking."
"Poor dear," Thairn said.
"No, no, it's fine, it's fun. Keeping them in suspense and confusion is hilarious, actually. I haven't even told them I'm bisexual yet, it's too entertaining."
Illa snorted. "I know that feeling."
"So," Thairn said to Illa. "I was wondering how you... see yourself?"
"What do you mean?"
"I know you like male identities. And 'he'. And I think that class is the first time I've heard you use your... I don't want to call it 'natural pitch', but I haven't another word for it... since we were students."
"Yes?"
"Do you see yourself as a man, in the human sense?"
The question caught Illa up, and he tilted his head. Considered. It took a long moment before he responded.
"Sort of. Sometimes. If I were human, I'd call myself a man? Gabriel mistook me for a trans man, and he wasn't... entirely wrong."
"Okay."
"I'm not a human man, though, and there's not much pressure to call those feelings anything back home, not like here in Human. But I'm similar. I tend to think of myself almost that way. And I prefer to look that way, and sound that way, wherever I am."
"Is that why you like 'vo'?" The pronoun for male breeding animals. And, derogatorily, for fati.
"I'm not sure about 'like', unless we're playing. But it is part of why I don't mind it."
"Got it."
"Is there a reason you wanted to know...?"
"You're mine. Do I need any other?"
Illa leaned his head into Thairn's chest, got petted as a reward. "No."
"I'm glad." Thairn let out a happy sigh. "I just want you to feel like you can be anything, when you're with me. Whatever and whoever you are, and want to be."
"I do." Illa relaxed a little further, leaned all the way against Thairn. "I really do."
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