Thomas fockin' Shelby

London greeted Shelby brothers with it's usual buzz of loud conversations, drunk couples laughter and overwhelming smell of car fumes.
This city was laud, dirty and full of people. This city was rotten. This city was a place you one could fill their most dirty fantasies.
This city was perfect for the buisness. And Thomas wanted to have this city for himself. He was no idiot - he knew he could't just march into the capitol and take it by force, just tear it right from Sabini's hands, steal it from the jews, not yet. Peaky Blinders needed to have at least one, secured buisness here. Nothing special, nothing big: Thomas really didn't need to make nore money right now.
But everyone had to start somewhere, and the small opium factory seemed to be a perfect spot to choose.

There was a tall, bespectacled man at the main entrance. He didn't want to let Thomas, Arthur and John go inside; Tommy greeted him, laughed a short, congenial laugh and took a cigarette out of his pocket. Arthur didn't even need to hear a word.
Shitty glasses didn't even try to get up.
Birmingham's king walked into the dock with a small smile on his lips, head held high. He didn't expect any fight, didn't feel the need to take his gun into his hand; owner of this place was basically no one, he would not stard any fight.
Thomas stopped in front of one, quite scared man.
"Your boss is here?" The man nodded and pointed to one door wordlessly. "Well. Let's meet him. After all, we came here to discuss buissness!"
Shelby straightened his shirt, nodded to his brothers and went to the office.
And he stopped right in the middle of the room. For a short moment he didn't even believe in what he saw; there was no way, no fucking way... It just was fucking impossible. He didn't give a fuck about the past, he didn't have the privilege of looking at his past.
But there it was, his past. Looking straight into his cold, blue eyes, which had shown his surprise for a moment. He casted a look to his brothers: they were as shocked as Thomas.
Shelby straighened his back.
"Well. Good evening. Long time no see. Arthur, John - I believe you should leave the room." His brothers didn't even budge. "I mean it. Get the fuck out. Wait in front of the building. I got this."

Keeping track of concurrency was a sensible thing to do – a thing every respectful businessman in these times did and even put considerable amount of founding and efforts into. Therefore, Nathaniel Riverisde knew exactly what the major, minor and even smallest players in England did. He knew when and where Sabini went for lunches and where and for how much other gangs sold opium in England.
He knew as much as one could know about the criminal, organized activities in the country he had sworn to and served to protect.
He was perfectly aware of one Shelby Thomas, taking over Birmingham. A city with not much significance, not enough for Riverside to look at it twice and deem it a good business.
That being said, he was completely taken by surprise, when the door to his office opened with a bang, and there he was, Thomas Shelby, walking in as if he owned the place – full confidence and cockiness for all two seconds it took him to register to whom exactly said office belonged.
It was hilarious to watch the fear and the haste in which he tossed his brothers outside. And so, when they were alone, Nathaniel couldn’t help but burst out laughing. He looked at Thomas, remembered his smugness from seconds before and couldn’t stop himself – it was comical.
“And what-“ he managed to croak out. “What did you want to achieve, walking here like that Shelby? Oh you should have seen your face! Precious! Precious! No amount of opium would be able to buy me that look!”
Nathaniel, in the best humor since years, crossed the room and put his hand on Thomas’ cheek. He smiled at him, all happiness and sunshine.
“We haven’t seen each other for years, Tommy,” he said, much quieter this time. “I’ve heard you have made a name for yourself. What was the name? Petty Blinkers?”

Thomas calmly grabbed Nathaniel's wrist and moved his hand away from his cheek.
"Five years, exactly. I believe we have seen each other at Somma for the last time. And the name is Thomas."
He took cigarette pack out of his pocket, took one for hunself and offered the pack to Nathaniel. The mask was back in place: cold, hard stare, lips pressed into a tight line, back straight.
"Yes, managed to make some reputation. What can I say - I was never easily satisfied, and making money is way easier when you have a few loyal people."
Thomas took a match, lighted it and covered the place with his hand - an old habit from war, the need to protect the flame from the wind.
He took a deep breath and let the smoke go through his nose.
"But I heard that you also manages to make quite a name. What rank do you hold now, hm? A general? Commander? Quite interesting for you to sell illegal opium. Sounds more like my type of business. And that's exactly what I wanted to achieve: a business. I'm a businessman after all. So what do you think? We're gonna make a deal? I can offer a very fair conditions."
He was sure his voice didn't show his anxiousness, his nervousness.
He was Thomas fucking Shelby. He didn't get scared as far as his men knew. And he promised his man this deal. He was not going to run right now.
He had seen more than one war. He was capable of winning this one battle.

He took one step back and looked at Thomas again – from the bottom to the top, assessing in a theatrical, exaggerated way, only to make the other even more uncomfortable. And Nathaniel knew very well that his guest was pushed out of balance, shocked and improvising, the fact that he could keep a straight face throughout that was impressive.
Sadly, Riverside didn’t make a business this lucrative of appreciating others.
He smiled again, this time with the corner of his mouth and titled his head to the side. He had refused a cigarette – as much as it cost, he preferred cigars.
“Let’s stop pretending that you’ve grown a back bone Tommy,” he said, still looking the man over, this time letting his eyes linger on the other’s crotch. “I was your superior back then and I am now. There’s no need for games and hiding the truth.”
With a considering expression on his face, he walked back to his neat, mahogany desk – the only expensive furniture he allowed himself to keep in this hellhole of a place – and took out his cigars. He lit one of them and then leaned against the desk.
“As I see it now, kid,” he started, looking pointedly at the other man. “If you want your brother’s intact and your business left alone, you’ll get on your knees and suck me off. If you want to talk about any deal at all, you better make it look like you want it Tommy.”

Thomas didn't manage to stop himself from laughing a short, mocking laugh. It wasn't a nice sound and combined with the way he lifted his brow it made quite an affect - Thomas really looked like a man who had the situation under control.
"I have no superior, not after the war. Well, maybe if you did count Poll."
Shelby finished his cigarette and threw it into the elegant, crystal ashtray.
"You wouldn't fucking dare to touch my brothers or my business."
Thomas felt his heart speed up, anger boiling in his veins, forcing him to squeeze his hands into fists. How did Nathaniel dare?
Brunette took a deep breath. He could use a glass of whisky right now.
"Take those words back and I might consider forgiving you."
His mind was racing. What the fuck was he supposed to do? He couldn't just kill the guy, he was a fucking commander, the whole bloody police would turn against the Blinders. And what did he mean by "keeping his brothers intact"? He had nothing on his brothers, Thomas was sure of that.
He was the only one back on that day. There was no one else...

Nathaniel sighed, overly dramatically. Did they really have to do this? Paly those games, like a ping-pong; ping, and the ball in on your side, pong and on the other, and again and again until Shelby realize that it really didn’t matter because the game is already set. The score has already been paid for, five years ago.
“Sure, you can beat up my men,” Nathaniel said, conversationally. “Then I’ll beat yours and your brothers. Then you’ll come back for revenge. Then’ll go after you again… Nah. I’ve got better things to do than bother with little Tommy and his family gang. We both know what you have to lose.”
Nathaniel took a breath of his cigar, then looked out of the small, dirty window.
“You want London, I don’t care about Birmingham,” Nathaniel lowered his voice. “Do you want me to start caring? Cause I’ll do it only to show you where is your place. On your knees, begging to take my cook and grateful for being able to leave London in one piece.”
After an appropriate pause, he looked at Thomas.
“I’m not joking,” he said, carefully punctuating each word. “Leave my office now and my men and I would follow you to your little hole in Birmingham, to your sweet sister Ida and her communist boyfriend. Who knows? Maybe Pollyanna will do good as a whore for my boys. We’re not above that, you know? And the best part of it? No one important enough will care.”
"So? How is it gonna be, Tommy?"

"Sure, I can beat up your men" said Thomas, mocking Nathaniel's condescending voice. "Sadly, I didn't really plan to leave any witnesses shlould this discussion take a wrong turn. And me (KOCHAM TO ICH "me things" <333) boys know that."
His jaw twitched when Nathaniel threathened to hurt Polyanne and Ada. He didn't wait, his nerves got the best of him - he took out his gun in one, swift movement and pointed it at Riverside's head.
One thing about him chanded for sure - there was no softness in him, no trace left of this happy, naive boy who was afraid to take a life. War destroyed that.
"Shut up. Shut the fuck up!" Shelby was seeing red. And he was fucking scared.
He knew he can't kill nor kidnap Riverside, he didn't even have anything to blackmail the guy with, not really. He was fucked, and he was fucking scared.
Thomas may have been ready for death for a long time now - he felt as living corpse anyway most of this days. When he had Grace, just then, just for a moment life seemed to make sense again, but after she left... His family was everything he had left and he sworn to protect his family, to sacrifice his life for them.
But this man here - he wasn't talking about a life. Nathaniel wanted to take Thomas' dignity, to destroy him completely, to burn his reputation and he was ready to tear Shelby family into shreds. Thomas wasn't ready for that. Nor for the humiliation waiting for him, nor for the pain of loosing his family.
"Want to have me killed? Go on, I'm not afraid of dying. But I will not kneel in front of you. I choose people to whom I'm willing to kneel for. You're not one of them, Colonel." He said the word with clear disgust, trying to mask his growing fear. "Government will be proud of the man who proved that I'm not really a war hero. But be quick, my finger is getting restless."

The gun didn’t impress him. Riverside have been threatened so many times by now it really took more than a scared kid to make him feel anything. But the situation was taking more time than he wanted to waste on Shelby and he had business to attend to.
So instead of drawing his own gun nor trying to play on Shelby’s nerves, he approached him.
“Long story short,” he said, deadpan. “I can have Arthur and John hanged and Ada in prison and I’ll take me one – one – letter to my friend.”
He took a while to let the information sink in. He knew Thomas would believe him, there was no reason not to, given how good Nathaniel’s and Riverside Family position was as of now. Not only thanks to his achievements during war, but in Bogota. They were, as of now, higher-ups favorites and if Nathaniel handed them Peaky Blinders on a silver plate, they wouldn’t question his evidence. Even if he pointed at women.
“I don’t want much from you Tommy,” he whispered, putting his hand back on Thomas cheek. “Hand me that gun, kneel and do what you were born to do. What your men can’t see, won’t hurt them, aye? Now, be a good lad, Tommy. Don’t make me hurt your family.”

Thomas felt like someone just hit him hard on the head. He had to explain himself again, that he just fucking can't kill Riverside.
He was in no position to do such a thing, and even if he was his honor wouldn't let him do such a thing: this bastard did save his life after all. He did lie in court for Thomas' sake, he didn't even try to strip Shelby of his medals. Thomas owed this guy. And... Ada in prision, Polyanne at the mercy of those bastards, John and Arthur hanged - and for what? For his stubborness? His pride?
"No need for hurting anyone." He said finally, laying his gun on the desk, out of his own reach.
Feigning nonchalance Thomas took of his coat, folded it neatly and laid it next to his weapon. He kneeled, slowly - oh, so slowly - not breaking eye contact, the blue of his gaze untained. Only Shelby could do that - kneel in front of a man, just about to suck his cock and still look like he owns the place.
The illision broke the moment Birmingham king casted a look at Riverside's crotch.
Well. And what now? Shelby had no fucking idea how to suck a cock. He had been on the receiving end of the blowjob many times, sure, but never the one actually doing the job. Not even during the war, when many men were laying with eachother, looking for some kind of distraction, thinking about girlfriends and wifes back home.
But it couldn't be that hard, right? One just had to be careful not to bite, right?
Not speaking, Thomas opened Nathaniel's pants and shoved his underwear down, letting them fall to the floor.
He felt the sudden urge to kill the guy, but he swallowed it down. Slowly, Shelby wrapped his hand around his colonel's cock and slowly moved it up and down, trying to block out his growing shame. He closed his eyes, trying to let his mind wander somewhere else. Only when Nathaniel's hand found it's way to his hair, Tommy finally did close his mouth around his cock, let it slip past his lips and into his mouth, sucking lightly, trying to copy things that Lizzy usually did to him (well, Lizzy was able to take him down her throath, but Shelby was fucking sure he would choke, and wouldn't that be a hilarious death, to be suffocated to death by a dick?)

Nathan looked with a sick kind of fascination as Shelby tried to keep his poker face in place. And, quite surprisingly, succeeded. For a while there, Riverside began to think that Thomas was experienced in the art of fellatio and he was up for some good time here – he could imagine how skillful those mouths could be.
But the charm was gone the moment Shelby stared at his crotch like a lost kid, helpless and unknowing. Nathan sighed in mind. The idea of him begin the first one, the one to break Shelby in was tempting, but honestly… He was hoping.
Thankfully, he didn’t have to take time to explain the other man how blow job worked and that he was actually supposed to use his mouth. And so, when finally, finally he could feel that warmth around his cock, he couldn’t help but growl in satisfaction.
His hand quickly found Shelby’s short hair, he gripped, but not pushed. He didn’t want bile on his flor and Thomas didn’t need more humiliation.
Quite frankly, Nathan believed in positive reinforcement.
“Good,” he muttered, closing his eyes and letting Thomas improvise further. “Suck on it, yes, yes, like that. Good, Shelby, you will learn quickly. Yes, there, good. Good boy.”

O MISIA DADDY KINK. O BOI.

Thomas felt his face getting hot. Jesus Christ, what was wrong with the world? Shelby couldn't really grasp the fact that he was currently kneeling on the floor, sucking a cock, blushing like a virgin. Thinking about this was hard, so Shelby focused on his task - if he was going to live through this humiliation he could at least try to prove that he actually is capable of getting the most of every situation.
Here it came, his strange way of coping, something that Arthur claimed, only Thomas could to: turn negative feelings into something else, something useful. Fear to defiance, horror into proud stare, despair to determination, terror to clarity.
Maybe Arthur was right, maybe he wasn't. The fact was that Tommy was going to try to get as much as he could, to make this man happy enough to leave Shelby's family out of this shit.
Brunette almost bit down when he heard the pet name, but instead of stopping he just lifted his head, licked his lips and just a moment later his tongue was teasing the smooth, wet head for a moment, just before he took Nath deeper, inch after inch, trying to remember what Lizzy would do right now. And he tried, he really tried, but when Riverside's cock touched the back of his throath he almost choked.
He didn't stop, though, wrapping his hand around the base and letting his lips work the rest.
Nathan didn't sound dissapointed, so maybe he wasn't doing such a shitty job here?

Oh Dear Lord. Nathan really didn’t need a reminder of how hot Shelby could be when he tried. And right now, with that gorgeous blush on his cheeks and determinate spark in his eyes – he was as mesmerizing as anyone could get. As only he could get.
All right, so maybe Riverside had a crush.
But crush or no crush, there was never a moment in his life when he let his dick dictate conditions. (Well, with a small exception of a certain military court session long time ago…) Anyway, the fact remained, that Nathan already had a plan and he would be damned if it didn’t work. He had Shelby in his pocket, had him on his knees and sucking him off.
A bit of maneuvering, and he’ll fuck him as well.
“Has anyone told you-ahh, yes! Yes. How beautiful you are, Thomas?” He whispered and at some point, his hand began to caress Tommy’s hair, to scratch the back of his neck. “So beautiful it’s a miracle no one has fucked those mouths of your before. So perfect. Such a good boy.”
He could feel his orgasm coming. And even if it wasn’t the best blow job ever and even if he got off more because of Thomas look and because it was Thomas Shelby on his knees, not exactly submissive but cooperative – no one needed to know, and he wasn’t the one to complain.
“Swallow it all, baby,” he ordered before he gripped Thoma’s hair and pushed, making the man take him all, choke on him.
“Take it!” He growled, bending over as he came.

He felt that colonel's orgasm was closing in: man gripped his head tighter, forcing him to move a little bit faster, to take him deeper. Thomas' jaw ached but Nathaniel allowed him just enough space to breathe, forcing Shelby to breath in the scent of him. And suddelny hand is hair gripped even tigher, forcing him, and Thomas felt out of breath, tears coming to his eyes. He griped Nathan's thighs and tried to move his head away, to pull off, but man's grip seemed to be made out of steel. Thomas squeezed his eyes shut and made quite a miserable noise, but he swallowed, because what the fuck could he do?
The moment Riverside let to of his head Shelby pulled off, took a deep breath and wiped his mouth and his eyes with his hand, trying to stop himself from spitting or throwing up right here and now.
Fighting his humiliation, Bigmingham's king kept a straight face, casting furious looks at Riverside: didn't really make any impression, not with his pink cheeks, mouth still red and puffy, and eyes shining from unshed tears. Thomas got up as fast as he could, trying to straighten his clothes.
"Happy now?" Oh God, no, his voice definitely wasn't hoarse, not in the slightest bit!

He sighed, deeply content. At this one moment, the life couldn’t get better – wait. No.
He took a breath from his cigar and yes. Now, now it was perfect. Heaven. And he was looking at one devilishly handsome and angry Angel. Thomas had tears in his eyes and the only thing that made him keep the eye contact was spite, Nathan was sure of it. Spite and a lot of pride and ego.
“Indeed,” he muttered, not bothering to dress up. “You should be happy too, Tommy. You just got yourself out of trouble.”
He had half a mind to make Shelby clean after himself, to tuck his dick in his pants and then do his trousers as well, but that would be too much for the first time. He could see Shelby’s endurance’s limits. It would not do to scare him off so quickly and recklessly.
Positive reinforcement, first and foremost.
He took one more breath of smoke and then finally dressed himself in quick movements.
“Now,” he said, as the silence prolonged. “If you are serious about business, Tommy, I have an apartment in the Old Town. Nothing fancy but suits my needs. After a nice fuck a lot will be open for negotiations. The decision is yours. You can walk out of my office and get the hell out of London and never come back, or you can take what’s offered.”
He walked up to Thomas and before the other man could do anything, smooched him on the cheek.
“Who knows, maybe you’ll get a nice trade out of it. Now, get the fuck out.”

Thomas had a hard time thinking of any explanation. He basically burst through the door, he didn't even say a word when he saw Arthur and Jonh: just grabbed an empty box lying nearby and kicked it hard, swearing loudly.
"Fuck!" He didn't give a fuck about the fact that Nath propably could hear him, or even see him, if he just looked through the window in his office. Shelby breathed deeply and found his cigarettes.
His brothers didn't even try to ask any questions - John simply lit his cigarette for him, tense, waiting.
Thomas didn't offer any words, didn't even try to explain, only assured, that he has everything under control, that he simply has to negotiate more, but he has to to this alone, today, in the evening.
Arthur visibly tensed. He was anxious, didn't even try to hide it, but Thomas said that it's allright and he'll take care of this, so he simply nodded.

But it wasn't allright, not really. Thomas felt the shame and humiliation creeping in his head, mixed with anger and fear, thoughts of that cursed, rainy day which happened so many years ago clouding his mind. Still - he kept a carefully calm, cold expression, because he was not weak, because he couldn't afford to be weak, not when his family well-being depended on him.
And if he went for his meeting with Nathan smelling sweetly, like opium, no-one said anything.

Thomas walked to Nathan's apartment using dark, dangerous roads, trying to remain hidden, unseen. He knocked and went inside without waiting for permission. The door was open anyway. Nathaniel was waiting for him in the living room, sipping whiskey, with a cigar in his hand, so sure of himself that he didn't even have any gun within an arm reach, that fucker.
Thomas had to bite inside of his cheek to stop himself from saying anything stupid.Without saying a word, he sat down in the armchair in front of Riverside, took off his cap, laid it on his knees and took out his cigarette case - a silver one, simple and elegant, his favourite one.
The mask was back in place - a small, quite sarcastic smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, eyes cold, piercing, looking at Riverside's face, but not really seeing him.
He was one tough motherfucker. Or a hell of an actor.
"I don't intend to play your games, Nath. I came here with good intentions in my mind, to talk with you like an adult with an adult."
Shelby run his hand through his hair, straighthening them.
"All those years ago, you spared my life, and I appreciate that. I'm very aware of the debt that I owe you and I intend to pay it, I have my honor. But I see absolutely no reason to involve the rest of Shelby's. That thing is between us, and we're both buisnessmen. I want my place in London, you don't want to start a war, and obviously you still work for the crown, so we should be able to find an agreement. I'm capable of doing way more than you're giving me credit for, and have way more information than you think. I believe we actually can help eachother. So, to keep it simple: fuck off of my family, don't even fucking think about them, and we can start a discussion."
He took a long drag of his cigarette, waiting for his ex-collonel. Shelby's face was showing nothing but cool indifference, his being giving a vibe of effortless control.
He really wasn't the same boy that Riverside met during the war.