Everyone is a whore, we just sell different parts of ourselves

Thomas 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."

Nathaniel Riverside

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 Shelby

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.

Nathaniel Riverside

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 Shelby

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 Riverside

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?"

Thomas Shelby

"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."

Nathaniel Riverside

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 Shelby

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?)

Nathaniel Riverside

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.”


Thomas Shelby

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?

Nathaniel Riverside

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. "

Thomas Shelby


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!

Nathaniel Riverside

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 Shelby

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.
It really wasn't surprising that he got a rank of a major sergeant during the war: even when he felt the world falling apart under his feet, he still held his head high.
Admirable. And quite irritating, if somone didn't like to feel like shitty worm being stared at by a king.

His new house, at the outskirts of Birmingham, was as spacious and luxurious as a house could get. With acres of land, a private road and a garden it was as if taken straight from a dream. The insides were decorated without any restriction on the money as Riverside could afford more and more these days.
In terms of political and business career there was very little he couldn’t achieve with a bit of effort on his part. His business was legal – in 90%, the remaining ten couldn’t be connected to him. Apart from one failed marriage, his life was perfect.
The only thing remaining on his mind was Thomas Shelby – and how beautifully he looked while sucking his cock. Nathaniel had an image to jerk off for years thanks to that. But as time passed, his need to possess Thomas was growing as well. Therefore, he moved to Birmingham.
“So, that’s our boy!” He said, with a big smile and cheerful voice, as the two year old kid was standing in front of him. “All the stories were true! You’re almost a man, right, Charles?”
It was painfully easy to figure out with whom Shelby was leaving little Charles with. And breaking into a Peaky Blinders Leader very own residency was equally unchallenging if one knew how to be sneaky about it.
Charles, busy with new car toy Nate had brought for the occasion, didn’t bother to acknowledge him. But he wasn’t crying and seemed happy enough to change environments when Riverside’s men were taking the maids and babysitter along with them.
For a trip.
As one final touch, Nate had left a letter in the child’s room – and invitation for a drink and a nice evening that was sadly postponed for all these years.

Thomas actually thought he had a chance at winning this gamble: he didn't meet with Nathaniel, but he managed to destroy every single document that his ex-colonel on his brothers. In a week.
Officially being a part of Burgess family did help a lot, and Thomas liked to use his wifes first surname, even if it hurt fim every single time.
So, really, Shelby didn't even think about the possibility of someone breaking into his house, let alone possibility to have his son taken away from him.
But it happened. His pride was destroying his life again. Thomas held the letter in his hands, reading it all over again.
He felt his blood pumping through his veins, heart speeding, muscles tightening. He was ready to fight, and at the same time he felt nauseous, felt his hands trembling with fear, and suddenly Thomas was back in France, in the fucking tunnels, waiting for Germans to come and kill his brothers.
He grabbed a chair and threw it against the wall. It took him ten minutes to grab his gun, force his family to stay here and get into his car.
He was at Nathaniel's house in half an our, strolling through the house like he owned it, scaring the shit out of maids, not even trying to hide the fury and horror showing on his face.
Thomas forced one maid to take him to Nathaniel. Fucker was sitting in his office, so happy, with such smug smile on his face, that Shelby barely stopped himself from shooting the guy.
"Where the fuck is my son?" He asked, slowly, in a low voice, separating every single word.
"Give me back my kid or I swear... " his hand moved to his gun, but he stopped himself.
His hands were shaking. He would propably miss anyway.
"I mean it. Let Charles go. Right now. I'll do anything you want." His voice broke down a little, showing his desperation.
He was going to do fucking everything just to get Charles back to safety.

Disregard the last two posts about a house in Birmingham.
Nathaniel Riverside
Truth to be told, he wasn’t sure what Thomas would do – return to London, with his tail between his legs, chastised and a bit traumatized by a certain dick, which admittedly would have been the more logical and safe option, or come here tonight and try to play this game.
So when, not long before midnight, one Thomas Shelby invited himself inside, Riverside was waiting for him, curious. Amused and eager to prove the man that he had an upper hand, that the gypsy-boy from war still was just that, only that, and needed to know his place. Wanted to see Thomas, bending to his will, bending over his table, ready to fuck.
“You have a charming son,” he said, after Thomas monologue that probably was meant to be intimidating. Nathaniel’s whole life was one of aristocrat, pompous words and fake posing was nothing to him and even if Thomas had some hidden card to play against him, he had yet to reveal one. Right here, right now, Nate was the one with advantage.
“His name is Charles, isn’t it? One year old? Two?” He took pleasure in the way Thomas’ face morphed and the man couldn’t quite mask his anger and fear that was behind it. “I’ve heard that when children learn how to walk it’s quite challenging to keep track of them. Is that true?”
He let the silence between them stretch.
“I’ve told you what I want from you,” he said after a while. “If you’re not ready to take off your clothes and get down from your high, racing horse, then you can go back to Birmingham and pray that I will have better things to do than follow. If you want London, the entrance fee has to be paid.”

Thomas tried his best, trying to keep his face, to not show any emotions. He really, really tried. He did not quite succeed. He felt his hands clenching into fists, heart speeding up and for a moment he even forgot that he needs to breath. He was ready to grab his gun, put it against Nathaniel's temple and force him to take those words back, to forget about Charles' existence and at the same time he knew that his sands were shaking, he felt nauseous and suddenly, just for a moment he was the young boy buried deep beneath the ground, in those fucking tunnels, dark and narrowed, having no idea what the fuck should he do and knowing that he has to find his way out.
It took him a long moment to force himself to slowly exhale - it didn't help. The memory of the letter he found in his boy's cradle appeared right in front of his eyes, the terror and fury still fresh in his mind, the pain of the moment in which Grace fell into his hands, bloodied, pale and trembling, dying at the hands of the same people who threatened him and his son...
No. He could not fall into this trap, he just couldn't, it wouldn't help anyone.
"Gypsys don't pray." He tried to bring some kind of smile to his face. It didn't work.
"Don't you dare to bring my boy into that. You... You wouldn't hurt a two years old boy. You wouldn't. He has nothing to do with this shit. " His voice broke down a little, showing just how scared he was.
Scared, and apparently unable to even react to Riverside's insults.

Nathaniel Riverside
For a second he wanted to point out that he didn’t necessary needed to hurt the two year old boy, he could simply take him away to a place unknown to Thomas. And leave the man wondering if his son was cared for or dead, left in a ditch to rot. But that would have been pointless, revealing his plans – besides, Nathaniel didn’t want to restore to kidnapping in order to put Shelby on his knees.
Threats, on the other hand, that he could and would do.
“He has everything to do with, as you said, this shit, don’t you see Tommy?” Nathaniel snorted, entertaining the idea that Shelby thought his words can convince anyone. “He’s your son. He’s a leverage against you. Take the boy and what would the self-proclaimed king of Birmingham do? He’d beg. He’d pray, even if Gypsy don’t do it. He’d eat shit if you hold a gun to his son’s head. So Tommy, Charles has everything to do with someone who’s not convinced to do a cultural, nice business with you.”
There was another pause in witch Nathaniel took a gulp of his whisky.
“And you see, I’m not convinced to be civil, yet.”

Apparently, mentioning holding a gun to his son's head wasn't the best idea in the world.
"Don't you dare!"
Thomas rushed to his feet, hand instinctively trying to find his gun and felt the world swirling around him, the visions of his son held somewhere far away surrounded by Riverside's men blocking away any rational thoughts. He lost his balance, had to grab the armchair and manages to think that losing your face like that, retching on your enemy's carpet really didn't suit Birmingham's king.
Well. To late. Thomas took few deep breaths, trying to ignore his hands trembling, cursing himself for not leaving more guards around the house, stupidly believing that everything will be fine.
Shelby wiped his mouth with his sleeve.
"You want me to beg?" His voice was hoarse, unpleasant. "Fine. I will. I will clean that up, beg, pray, fuck - whatever the fuck you want. Just don't touch my son."

Nathaniel
He felt fully justified in his shock, when Tommy puked all over his expensive carpet. A man that dealt with gangs and illegal businesses all over Birmingham could be expected to have a bit more of a… hold on himself? Honestly, Nate had never witnessed a potential business partner – even one he had to threaten with death or mutilation, throw up just because of words, not actions.
How damaged Shelby really was?
Nataniel was at a loss of words for a longer while, making things between them rather awkward. When he finally managed to collect his thoughts and think of a proper reaction, he cleared his throat and stood up.
“Give me your cloak,” he said. “Amanda will wash it, you’re staying the night.”
And if his voice didn’t allow for a ‘no’ then so be it. He had already proved that his arguments were better than Thomas’, good enough to make a grown up man have a panic attack.
“Come on, Tommy,” he said in the same voice he did during the war, when Thomas was on the edge of breaking and needed someone who wasn’t his brother or best friend since childhood for company.
He headed for the upper floor, trying to figure out in which bathroom was the spare toothbrush…

The request was so unexpected that Shelby forgot that, technically, he should still panic.
"What?" Shelby asked while automatically getting rid of his coat and putting it down on the armchair, tryong to fold it, so the dirty part did not touch the furniture.
He did not expect such reaction. He was waiting for a punch, a scream, vicious laugh... Not for that kind of an order.
"Why?" Even though still really puzzled, he went after Riverside.
Well. If Nathaniel still wanted to have sex, then staying the night made sense, but Shelby just knew that his ex-colonel would phrase such request quite differently.
"I mean, I will" brunette quickly corrected himself. Riverside wanted him here? Fine. He just said that he will listen, didn't he? "But what's the fucking point?"

Nathaniel
What else was he going to do? Shelby was falling through his hands, ready to shatter into pieces at the mere mention of hurting his son – and Nathaniel, at the end of the day, was prepared to do business with Peaky Blinders. Not before the sex, if he could help it, but…
And it wasn’t like he couldn’t kick the man out of his house or make demands and expect them to be met. However, when he looked at Shelby, he didn’t see a gang leader or an opponent, he saw a boy, who just got into the army and had seen for the first time a pile of corpses – other boys, like him. He saw Tommy, who realized just how fragile life was on the front. How easy it was to lose it, to lose the people you love.
So Nathaniel opted to do what he did then. He had lead Shelby upstairs, gipped his nape and showed him into a bathroom, to bend over the sink.
“If you’re going to throw up do it now, soldier,” he said, his voice steel, but without any malice. Without any disgust. “When you walk out of this bathroom, you’re going to do as you’re told.”
He took his hand away, then began to leave.
“Brush your teeth, there’s one spare toothbrush in the drawer. You have fifteen minutes to collect yourself Tommy. Then you’re going to tell me who else wants to take your kid.”
With that, he left.

Thomas did not try to put up a fight; he was more than ready if Riverside wanted to rough him up a bit. Brunette was more than aware that some people did way worse things if someone puked on their floor. And... He was mistaken. Again.
Nathaniel told him to collect himself, and that he did. He took his time: brushed his teeth, washed his face, straighten his shirt and run a still wet hand through his hair. After a short moment of consideration, Shelby decided that Riverside wouldn't mind if he did smoke a cigarette inside the bathroom; he told him to collect himself,right?
About ten minutes after Riverside left Shelby forced himself to stand straight and his face to remain blank. He was perfectcly aware that it didn't make any sense: he didn't have any facade to keep up with or honour to protect. But it made him feel a bit better about the whole situation.
Nathaniel was waiting in the living room.
"Well. What exactly do you expect me to say?" Shelby sat in the armchair, in front of his ex-colonel.
"I have quite a lot of enemies. Russians don't trust me, IRA is threatening me," no, he did not think about that cursed day, about that grave in the middle of nowhere, and his voice did not break. "I have quite a strong feeling that Alfred Solomons really doesn't like me, even fucking priest hates me."
He tried to smile. Nathaniel's face told him that effort was not appreciated. Just for a moment, Thomas fell silent.
"The Economic League. John fucking Huges. Broke into my house, left a note inside Charles' crib." He did not mention that the same man killed his wife. That had nothing to go with the conversation.

Nathaniel
He blinked at Thomas, once more speechless in the face of the very doubtful genius entrepreneur. For a moment he wanted to lose his composure and ask ‘what the fuck?’ or at least ‘how’, but all that made it past his throat was incredulous :
“And now you want to take London?”
The ‘that’s very smart of you, kid’ went unsaid but Nathaniel was sure his expression delivered the message just right. Who the hell taught Shelby strategy? How the hell Peaky Blinders weren’t annihilated by now? And the Economic League – that was one shelve above what Shelby could face. One person from the organization, yeah, sure, right. Might even work, but then what?
You anger one of them, they all go after you until they get what they want or you find someone or something they want more than you ass, fried. Nathaniel knew them. He was in a marvellous situation where they would not dare to fuck with him if he left them alone.
“Thomas,” he said, dead serious. “Fuck the IRA and communist, they’re not that strong here and Alfie can be reasoned with if you know what you’re doing, but the League? And of course you got the short straw and ended up with a paedophile sneaking into your child’s room. How the hell did you… Never mind. I can get you in London, but I want your absolute obedience in every matter. Birmingham is yours, but if you want to be here, you’re working for me.”

"Yes. And now I want to take London. Actually, already took a part of it." his voice was surprisingly calm.
He did realize that his methods were... unorthodox. Risky. Fuck the nice words - he wasn't just making buisness, he was gambling. But he was one hell of a gambler.
"Fuck the IRA? That would be lovely, if possible," he could not stop himself from snorting. "Not that fucking easy. We have history. Apparently, I'm still the chosen one."
Brunette had no idea why did he even mention that. God, he really did have to compose himself. Maybe grabbing some sleep would actually help... Thomas took cigarette case of of his pocket and took one his last cigarette. Fuck his luck.
"Working with you? Why the fuck would you even want to work with me right now? You said so yourself - I fucked up. So what's the point?"
Suspicious? No. Never. Paranoid would be better word.

Nathaniel considered giving Thomas a logical reason as to why he now wanted to do business together. And if Nate didn’t drink a few glasses of whiskey this evening and thought more with his head than his heart, he’d stop himself to think twice about going in all this mess. Peaky Blinders weren’t anything he needed, didn’t have anything he needed. Instead, they brought problems to his yard and Riverside was sure he was in for a headache if he makes a deal with Shelby.
So instead he walked up to Thomas, looked him in the eyes and said :
“Because I enjoy the idea of you, on your knees, sucking me off or bending over the table for me, every time I call you to London. If you need a proof of what I get out of this deal, then consider yourself a very high-price whore.”
Nathianiel smiled charmingly, though it didn’t reach his eyes.
“Let’s be honest Tommy, beside your body and compliance, you don’t have anything I might want. I can kill whom I want to kill, I can find intel on whom I want to find intel. But I don’t have much entertainment and if you prove eager enough, I’m willing to pay for it with a good deal. Keep in mind that a disobedient whore usually gets raped.”

Shelby thought that he really deserved a medal for keeping a straight face. He was way too proud for his own good, not reacting at the very offensive words was quite a challenge (especialy now, since he already knew that Nathaniel propably wouldn't actually take or hurt his son, judging by his previous reaction), but... Fuck. Now that he confessed his problems he was in way worse situation than just an hour ago. And, honestly? Sex wasn't the highest price one could pay for a good deal. Thomas wasn't into men, not really, but he also wasn't particulary against the idea. His pride would suffer, sure. But again - that was not the highest price (except for the fact that he didn't believe Riverside, not really. Sex was one thing, but brunette deeply believed that his ex-colonel has some other motives. He had to. Se was too easy).
"Everyone is a whore. We just sell different part of ourselves."
When he said those words to Grace, he really didn't think that he will have to repeat them in such conditions.
"Okay. Let it be like that, if that's really what you want."

Thomas agreed to the only realistic option that was on the table and Nathaniel, apart from the part that yelled at him in his mind, for taking someone else’s problems on himself for a piece of nice ass, was quite content with the deal. The urge to actually bend Thomas over and fuck him here and there, however, was still dimmed by the stain on his carpet.
Clearly, Thomas had had enough for one evening and Nathaniel wanted to have a peaceful night as well. Especially since it could very well be one of the last peaceful nights in a very long time if Economic League really wanted to fuck with Shelby’s family.
“Good boy,” he said, and taking advantage of being so close to Thomas, pulled him into a kiss. And thanked god that he ordered the man to brush his teeth. It wasn’t anything deep, more of a mocking of a caring gesture and when he was done, he patted the man on his cheek.
“Take the stairs up, second door on the left is your guest room. Go to sleep. We’ll talk business after breakfast. Your people will be notified of your wellbeing first thing tomorrow. Now, scam.”

"I'm staying a night, aye? Fine." Thomas gave his ex-colomel a considering look, but at the end he just shrugged his shoulders.
"Me men won't be notified about anything. There's no need. They know I'm still in London and trust that I will be back."
Indeed, they knew that Thomas has to stay in the capital for some more time. Making the deal with Riverside required a little bit more of talking and less violence; he told them that himself, but at the same time he promised that despite all of the complicafions, he will get one.
"Goodnight, colonel."
Of course he did go to his room. He did change into prepared night gown, he lied in bed, he spent the night in Nathaniel's house - just like he was told to do. But no one could really force him to actually sleep in the house he did not feel safe in. Nor could someone stop him from borrowing some of the whiskey standing in the cupboard.
It wasn't really surprising that when he went downstairs in the morning, to join Nathaniel at breakfast, he did not look like the most healthy person in the country.
"Good morning, colonel!" Oh. He did not stop with the "colonel thing"; mockery for yesterday's "soldier" action?
"Can I trouble you for a cigarette? Run out of them yesterday."

Thankfully, his usual, firm attitude returned along with sunrise of the new day. Riverside had a whole night to think about the deal he was about to make with Shelby – the deal he already made, partially at least. Peaky Blinders wanted London and Nathaniel wasn’t naïve enough to think that their thirst for power, money and status could be satisfied by a mere scraps. They’d start from nothing, sure, but they won’t stop – Thomas won’t stop. Nathaniel wasn’t even sure if the man even know how to stop.
And as long as Nathaniel’s businesses, both legal and illegal, will remain untouched and prospering, there was no need to hamper them. But he needed assurances, he needed a way of keeping them under his boots permanently.
Having Thomas Shelby as his whore was a short term solution. The man surely will find a way to get away or bend the rules, change the meaning of Nathaniel’s orders.
“Good morning, solider,” he said in return, playing the game. However, his nickname for Thomas wasn’t a mockery, but a title that did held some respect. “You haven’t slept much, did you? How did you find my whisky? Strong enough for Birmingham?”
He poured the man a glass of orange juice.
“We don’t smoke at the table here,” he continued, smiling and gesturing for Thomas to enjoy the rich breakfast. “Eat.”
For a moment, he returned to his own food, sausages and bread, a bit of scrambled eggs and burning hot, bitter coffee.
“I can give you a place at the docks, Solomon’s will keep an eye on you for me, so play nice. I want 50% of your income for the first four months, then 35% for another six. After that, depending on your situation, we’ll renegotiate.”

Shelby helped himself to a cup of coffee; plain, bitter, without any milk or sugar. After a moment of consideration (and propably watching Nathaniel, waiting for some kind of drug mixed with food to start to work) he decided that eating won't hurt him not his pride. Eggs did look delicious after all. He tried really hard not to think about the fact, that the last time he saw such a rich breakfast he enjoyed it with his wife. Since she died he simply didn't give a fuck anymore.
"Yes, it was quite nice." It seemed that brunette was not even slightly affected by the fact, that apparently Nathaniel seemed to know about exactly everything happening in his house.
"No," Thomas didn't think too long after hearing Nathaniel's next words. "I already have a place at the docks, Solomon gave me one. Won't say no to the second one, but I don't plan on paying such money for such a long time. 35 % for half year? No."
Even though he was technically arguing about the conditions, he did not seem to be really invested.
Automatically, Thomas reached to his front pocket, only to stop in the middle, when he remembered that he ran out of cigarettes.
"Or I could pay for six months. But I need a few names, and you know them. I need to meet with priest's boss."
No. No, no, no, no. That did sound like another absolutely, completely terrible idea involving Thomas, deals with powerful people and a lot of lies.