(BL) Taming the Field Guide

Brent was freaking out.

Not for any good reason, either. He was going to blame exposing so much of the secrets that he’d kept inside of himself for so long to a room of random strangers, and then Sergei, Rhys and Kellen. Two of those people already knew quite a bit of the information, while the third had probably already guessed quite a bit of it.

It didn’t help that most of the people in the room were powerful enough to destroy him with a flick of their pinky, but instead they were listening to him like what he had to say was important. No doubt that was because of Kellen, and probably Sergei, but he was going to bet it was more because of Kellen.

They were probably here more out of fascination than actual interest.

That was what Brent had told himself to get through the meeting in one piece.

He shouldn’t have sparred with Ellie before this. He’d become vulnerable after their heart to heart and now he was having a hard time just being around Sergei and Kellen. They were his weaknesses, and having himself sandwiched between them while also being vulnerable with strangers was making his head fuzzy.

Nothing helped, not even counting down, monitoring his breathing, or trying to push away the thick feelings that threatened to choke him. It was made worse when they poked fun at him and spoke about marriage.

That was the last thing on his mind right now! He was more worried about how he was going to survive this encounter in one piece so that he could lay next to Sergei for a few more days. Damn it, he was down bad for the Esper. It wasn’t made easier when he could feel Sergei standing protectively behind him.

Sergei wasn’t the kind of man that would stand in front of him and protect him that way. He knew that Brent would find it insulting that Sergei would try to block him from the front. Brent had a working hand, sometimes two, and was a good shot. Sergei wouldn’t dare humiliate him by doing that, and he didn’t have to. With a wave of his hand half of the city could be floating in the air.

Brent swallowed, thinking back on how many powerful Espers had been in one room. He felt it was a blessing for Kellen that he couldn’t feel the flow of powers, because it had nearly choked him. That many people, that powerful, without freaking out? A damn miracle.

"Brent? Is everything alright?" Brent nearly jumped out of his skin again.

Sergei and Brent had left shortly after Kellen and Rhys had. Brent had made the excuse that his nerves were shot, which was honestly just the truth. Sergei had gone with him, walking next to Brent but not taking his hand in his. Brent would have protested it if he hadn’t been lost in his own thoughts. Instead, they just brushed their shoulders together. A subtle, but intimate touch for someone like Sergei who had tended to keep to himself before Brent.

Anyone who knew Sergei knew that the man was marking Brent as his own. It was usually Brent who was more obvious, but he’d been rather distracted since Sergei and the others had come back.

Brent turned to look up at the man, their height not too different, but enough that Brent noticed it every time. It was hot. Brent let out a shaky breath, trying to center himself again but it was blown out of the water when the elevator chimed and they climbed in.

"I’m just...feeling a little out of sorts. I don’t normally speak that much about myself, especially to random strangers." Brent decided going with the truth was better than making something up. Sergei nodded, his piercing gaze watchful. Brent began to sweat. The man could see through him like he was a damn piece of rice paper.

"That’s very reasonable. I, too, don’t like to tell strangers about my personal life. Is there anything I can do to help you settle? Do you want me to draw a bath for you too, like Kellen and Rhys are doing?" Sergei asked. It was a simple question, and an honest one. It sent Brent a little over the edge.

"Can I get a drink instead?" Brent burst, wincing at the volume of his own voice. "Sorry, that wasn’t-" Brent tried to apologise when Sergei reached out a hand. It was careful, measured, as he placed it on Brent’s shoulder and squeezed. The words died in Brent’s throat as Sergei leveled him with a calm look.

"You just told me you’re out of sorts, don’t apologise. If there is anything I can do to make you feel more at home around me, I will gladly do it. The fact you’re even letting me help you makes me very happy. There is no need to apologise." He offered a small smile and Brent thought his heart was going to jump out of his chest and beg Sergei to take him.

"O-Oh. But I can still apologise for yelling, right?" Brent asked, then wanted to kick himself. However, Sergei’s face warmed further.

"That I will accept, but again, no worries. I’m not upset, and I like to drink. Do you have a preference for alcohol?" Sergei asked and Brent swallowed.

"Uh, honestly? I’m a wine drinker. Not a bougie one, I just like the taste." That seemed to surprise Sergei. Brent understood. He never really voiced that he liked wine over beer or hard liquor. It also always seemed to surprise those who learned of it too. "Doesn’t suit me?" Brent joked and Sergei stared at him. The elevator opened and Sergei gestured for Brent to go first.

"It’s not that it doesn’t suit you, Brent, but I do think it suits the person you could have been if your family weren’t shitbags." Hearing Sergei say anything close to a swear word had Brent halting, Sergei nearly running into him. Brent spun, staring at Sergei with wide, green eyes.

"What do you mean by that?" It sounded accusatory coming from Brent’s mouth, but that’s not what he meant. He was about to apologise again when Sergei’s hand landed on his shoulder again and he gave it another squeeze.

"I meant that you could have become someone bougie but your family failed to nurture you. I, however, am willing to feed whatever desire you want." Sergei said, completely serious. Brent felt his breathing stutter to a halt.

This man kept surprising him, over and over. He was far smoother than he probably gave himself credit for. If Sergei had used these moves on others, Brent had no doubt that the man would have been snatched up and married. He’d be a father of twelve if it was with a woman.

"What do you like to drink?" Brent asked, scanning Sergei’s face, his eyes darting down to those pretty lips and the piercings that made Brent’s mind wander to far too naughty of places. That meant he got to watch as Sergei’s lips tilted up in that small but naughty way they did sometimes. That was turning into less of a sometime and more whenever he interacted with Brent.

"I like wine." He said and Brent scoffed.

"Liar. You only said that because I did." Brent argued, feeling like he caught him in a lie. Sergei took a step forward.

"Why would I lie? You’d sniff it out in a heartbeat if I did." Sergei told him. Brent let out a shaky breath. "Should I prove myself to you? What can I do to make you believe me, zaichonok?" Brent spun, unable to look into his face, not when he knew that there were big ears in the Guild right now.

He’d never been like this before. He’d been able to handle any kind of teasing, any kind of beating, or harassment, or even a guiding session that anyone could dole out to him. Now? Now he could barely handle Sergei thinking of flirting with him in a public space. He was growing weak. He was weak.

"What the hell am I doing?" Brent muttered, more to himself then to Sergei.

"What was that?" Sergei asked, sounding as if he was truly concerned but when Brent turned to look at him, he had a sparkle in his eyes. Brent scowled at him.

"I’ve lost my edge thanks to you." Brent accused, passing the blame to him easily. Sergei chuckled.

"I wear that like a badge of honour, Brent. Brent Jameson, A Class Field Guide, lost his edge thanks to a caring S Class Esper. They write t.v. shows about that kind of thing." Sergei teased. Brent scowled, his face warm from embarrassment as he marched towards his room. He opened the door, Sergei a step behind him. Sergei scanned the room, making sure that no one else was in his apartment before he closed the door behind him and locked it for Brent.

"You’re going to ruin my heart health." Brent accused and watched as Sergei actively listened to his heart.

"I think I might actually strengthen it. You have a rather steady beat right now, Brent. Do you need it to go faster?" Sergei asked. Brent threw his hand up, done with his antics as he stormed for the bedroom. He’d had a shower after his sparring session with Ellie, but that didn’t mean he was in comfortable clothes.

He began to strip angrily until he was only in his underwear before he began pulling on something more comfortable. All the while, Sergei stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame and watching him with that damn teasing smile on his lips.

"What?" Brent snapped, bad tempered and Sergei just kept smiling at him.

"I think I might develop a bad habit of making you a little bit angry. You’re very cute when you’re like this." Sergei told him.

"There is nothing cute about me." Brent snapped back and Sergei chuckled.

"I beg to differ." Sergei’s voice dripped seduction and Brent, flustered, glared at him over his shoulder as he pulled a t-shirt on.

"Then beg." It was a passive comment, one he didn’t even think about. Until he heard the sound of Sergei falling to his knees. Startled, Brent turned and found the man moving towards him, on his knees, staring up at him with such longing that Brent felt embarrassed for him. When he reached Brent’s side, he grabbed his hips, holding onto him desperately.

"Brent, would you please, please grant me the privilege to see you as the wonderful, handsome, cute being that you are? Would you give me that right? To be by your side would be enough, but to be able to adore you, worship you, that is a privilege that I would wholeheartedly embrace. Please, please give me that right. It is a crime that none before me dared treat you the way you deserved, but upon my honour I would gladly, no I’m begging, let me take up the mantle."

"What is this?" Brent demanded, Sergei’s honeyed words washing over him like a wave. Sergei’s eyes sparkled, his words true. Brent could see it in those pale eyes.

"You told me to beg, so I am." Brent was at a loss for words.

"I-It’s a turn of phrase! Don’t actually beg!" Brent shouted and Sergei slowly smiled at him. He leaned in, resting his chin against the small line of exposed skin between the hem of his shirt and his boxers.

"Oh, but I meant every word. Are you going to allow me, zaichonok?" Sergei was too damn serious for Brent’s heart to survive if he ever went back on this.