a rough town

[ofanotherera]

London is trouble on every corner. Tommy has been shown this, time and again, but all the same, Sabini's men manage to find him on the wrong side of the Camden road, and from there it's all blood and bad fortune, for everyone involved in the little dustup.

Comments

[bleak_midwinter]

He is shivering and shaking where he is, doesn't even think to close his mouth until Alfie starts cleaning him up. When he does he wipes weakly at the come tricking down his jaw, and then looks at Alfie.

This was so- so different from last time. His throat is sore and he feels like he spent half an hour crying, but it's good, it's warm and heady and he did good.

[ofanotherera]

"Oh," says Alfie, stroking him again, and then bending down to take him gently by the arms, to help him to his feet, and into the kitchen.

"Come along, Mister Shelby. You aren't in any state to leave here tonight, so you'll have to let me clean you up."

[bleak_midwinter]

It's a bit of an emotional whiplash, Alfie fucking his mouth so hard he cries and then taking him so gently by the arms to clean him up. It makes his breath hitch, makes him have to wipe at his eyes again. He feels some shame at that, that he can't keep himself from doing it. He follows, lets himself be led.

[ofanotherera]

Alfie takes Tommy into the kitchen, and sits him delicately down in front of the kitchen hearth while he starts up a fire. You treat shock (not by face-fucking someone into tears, but that ship has sailed) with warmth, so despite the fact that it's only a mildly chilled spring night, he gets a fire up in his little stove, and a kettle on, first things first. When he's near enough to him, he touches his hair, or braces a hand on his shoulder as he crouches at the grate.

While the kettle sets to boiling, Alfie fetches Tommy a pastry, a little stale but filled with sweet honey and nuts. He breaks a little piece off for him, and pushes it into his hand.

[bleak_midwinter]

Tommy is shivering for a while as Alfie goes about his business, but the touches calm him down, bit by bit. By the time he's handed the pastry he's still breathing a little shallow (and raspy, mostly thanks to the choking) but he looks better. The warmth is settling into his bones, and he quietly eats. It's probably the most quiet he's ever been around Alfie, the most passive.

[ofanotherera]

The first kettle turns into two cups of tea, and then he begins the arduous process of drawing him a hot bath- there's a small, but deep copper tub he produces from one of the back cupboards, with some swearing, some clattering.

He comes back after that, to settle next to him, mutely, and sip his own tea while the kettle begins to work up to steam again.

[bleak_midwinter]

Tommy has both hands wrapped around the cup, and slowly his eyes start slipping shut. He can't quite summon up words yet, but he leans a little so that he can feel more of Alfie's body heat- more of his presence to calm himself.

[ofanotherera]

Alfie sits with him like that, until it's time to empty the kettle into the bath again, and refill it.

It's a slow process. This time, when he comes back over to Tommy, he brings a chair, and sits on it, close enough to tug him in to lean against his knees.

"You did that well."

[bleak_midwinter]

He goes easily, sips his tea slowly before replying.

"Thank you." Which would normally seem like a strange thing to say, to a man like Tommy, coming from a man like Alfie. But it doesn't, right now.

"It was-" Good, is most of what he wants to say, but can't quite get himself to. It was good, even if it was frightening, and painful.

[ofanotherera]

"Did I hurt you?"

He wants to know, except it isn't a normal question. It's the same way he once asked him if he'd ever been to Timbuktu. Would you like me to?

[bleak_midwinter]

"Yes," he replies, turning a little to look up at him with a slightly raised eyebrow and a soft, barely-there smile. Obviously, and thankfully, yes.

[ofanotherera]

Alfie rears in, and doesn't so much kiss him as bite down, hard, on his bottom lip. Cheek, Tommy.

He already wants him hurting again.

[bleak_midwinter]

He whimpers softly, willing the tears to not spring to his eyes. Instead he reaches up, tugs on the briefly hair of Alfie's beard.

"Bath first," he rasps, licking his own lip. Then- yes, then more.

[ofanotherera]

Alfie nods, and lets him go, sipping his tea again, before reaching out to start unbuttoning all of the bits of Tommy in reach that will eventually need to be unbuttoned.

[bleak_midwinter]

His collar goes easily, and then the buttons on his shirt. His chest is a mess of bruises, the tattoo there almost invisible between them. His fingers shakily start working on the others, from the bottom up.

[ofanotherera]

Alfie swats his hands aside, and bends down to do it himself, rubbing a careful palm over the worst of the marks as he uncovers them.

"Jagging pretty close to certain death, Tommy Shelby."

[bleak_midwinter]

He leans into him, sips his tea instead. The bruises throb and twinge but the hurts have faded enough.

"Wouldn't be doing this if there weren't risks," he says, an echo of their last conversation.

[ofanotherera]

He moves, as the kettle starts to whistle. Pours it in, fetches another, gives the water a test with his hand. It's too hot yet, so he adds some of the cool- and that's enough that he nods his head at Tommy, and moves to strip him more determinedly, get him all the way down to naked.

[bleak_midwinter]

He stands up, feeling strangely bashful about Alfie undressing him considering he just had the man's cock in his mouth. Once he's all the way naked it's obvious that the damage is quite extensive- a few bruised ribs for sure, knee unable to bend properly, ankle swollen considerably, and plenty of cuts and innumerable bruises. He has to lean on Alfie's shoulder to be able to step in.

[ofanotherera]

Alfie rubs his thumb over Tommy's cheek, then helps him, carefully, to sink down into the hot water. He keeps a broad arm folded carefully around him so he can't fall, and at once reaches for a clean hand towel, to begin to patiently was the blood away.

[bleak_midwinter]

He moans in genuine, uncomfortable pain this time, as he has to draw his knees up to his chest to fit inside the tub. He's not a tall man, but it's a tight fit. The steam helps, and so does the heat, and so does the arm around his chest.

[ofanotherera]

Alfie rolls his sleeves up a little higher, then goes to get the kettle while Tommy adjusts, tipping it into the tub (careful not to let it get hot enough to burn him) before going to refill it, again, and set it back on the heat.

He sips his tea, then holds the cup to Tommy's mouth, to make him drink.

[bleak_midwinter]

He scrubs at his arms and legs with his hands, watching the water go steadily red. When Alfie puts the cup to his lips he looks up at him, drinks, then asks, so softly the rasp is hardly audible: "Is this- part of it?"

Getting taken care of.

[ofanotherera]

"With me? Yeah."

Taking the cloth, squeezing water gently over his throat, to get the dried stains there.

"This is a part of it."

[bleak_midwinter]

"It's good," he whispers. Just- it's clear from his voice- unexpected. Not only because it's Alfie. There are dark fingerprint bruises on his throat as well.