Title: "I'm Free"

Fandom: Are You Being Served?

Content: Mr. Humphries/Mr. Lucas

Author: Og the Pillaging Viking

Distribution: At "Life In A Northern Town" - Slash Fit for Vikings

Rating: NC-17

Disclaimer: The characters belong to David Croft, Jeremy Lloyd, and BBC Television, UK. No copyright infringement is intended with this fan fiction. Especially, no insult in any way is intended towards the brilliant John Inman who has consistently maintained Mr. Humphries' sexuality to be ambiguous. (As in Mr. Inman's words, "When you see Mr. Humphries do it across the counter, then you'll know for sure. Until then…..")

Summary: Mr. Humphries has been looking a little sad and his fellow staff members are starting to worry.

Feedback: None, please. If you like, it's good. If you don't, you don't.

"I'm Free"
By Og the Pillaging Viking

"He looks down. He has for a few days now," Miss Brahms said as she poured sugar in what passed for tea in Grace Brothers commissary.

"Something's preying on his mind," Mrs. Slocombe agreed.

Mr. Lucas sat at the end of the cafeteria table, noting that Mr. Grainger was following the conversation curiously. "Who are we talking about?" he asked. "Captain Peacock?"

"No. Mr. Humphries," Miss Brahms replied. "Hasn't he looked down in the dumps to you?"

Mr. Lucas had noticed a distinct lack of bubbly conversation from Mr. Humphries' end of the Men's Counter the past week, but he respected Mr. Humphries' privacy. If the latter wasn't talking, it wasn't up to him to ask, or to gossip about it. "He's been quiet," Mr. Lucas said,
accompanying the words with a shrug. Then he changed the subject. "Where's old Peacock? He usually beats me down here for lunch by a good ten minutes."

"That's because he sneaks away ten minutes early," Mr. Grainger sniffed.

"Seriously, now, we should find out what's wrong with Mr. Humphries. This isn't like him at all," Miss Brahms said.

"Has he said anything to you?" Mrs. Slocombe asked, with a direct look at Mr. Lucas.

"No, he hasn't so much as hinted," Mr. Lucas replied truthfully.

"It's probably something with his mother, in which case we should stay out of it," Mr. Grainger cut in, giving Mr. Lucas unexpected support.

"Poppycock," Mrs. Slocombe said. "If he has a problem with a woman, who better than Miss Brahms or I?"

"If he has a problem with a woman, it's the first time," Miss Brahms said with a *look*.

"Now, now," Mrs. Slocombe said. "Lots of women have probably thought about him."

"And wondered," Miss Brahms said.

"If it's a problem with a man, don't expect me to get involved," Mr. Grainger cut in.

"Well, you are a man," Mrs. Slocombe told him in a firm voice.

"Yes, but not *that* kind," Mr. Grainger reiterated.

Mr. Lucas was getting very uncomfortable now. He genuinely respected Mr. Humphries. He was considering moving to another table when Captain Peacock came in.

"The service here is getting worse every day," he griped as he landed a tray and himself at the table. "Look at this," he exclaimed, pointing at his plate.

"What is it?" Mrs. Slocombe asked with a squint.

"Your guess is as good as mine," Captain Peacock retorted. "I asked for cottage pie."

"And it looks like that's exactly what you got," Mr. Lucas joked. "Complete with shingles and stucco."

"It's intolerable," Captain Peacock said, but he picked up his fork and dug in.

The others at the table watched him, impressed that he was actually putting the whatever it was into his body.

"It's bravery like this that's made England what it is today," Mrs. Slocombe said in a hushed tone.

"Yes, a very bad place to eat," Mr. Lucas told her. "Don't worry, Captain Peacock. If you go down in the line of duty, we'll call an ambulance, then erect a plaque to your honour at the spot where you fell. To the memory of a brave soldier taken down by the canteen food."

Captain Peacock favoured him with a reprimanding glare.

"Now that you're here, we can ask for your help," Mrs. Slocombe said.

"With what?" Captain Peacock asked warily.

"Well, you're a man," she said.

When it didn't look as if she was going to say anything further, Captain Peacock nodded slowly. "I was when I got up this morning."

"Mr. Humphries is having private men troubles."

Captain Peacock straightened so abruptly, his tray nearly fell to the floor. "Pardon?" he choked.

"We don't know that," Mr. Lucas cut in hurriedly.

"What else could it be?" Miss Brahms asked him.

"Many things," Mr. Lucas replied, a little angrily. "We don't even know that he's…..like that."

"Oh please!" she huffed.

"What on earth have I missed?" Captain Peacock asked, wide-eyed.

"Mr. Humphries has been a little quiet lately and these women have got it all stirred up. He's probably just had a row with his mother," Mr. Lucas said.

"These women?" Mrs. Slocombe repeated with an acid tone. "You mean, these *ladies*!"

"The point is," Mr. Lucas interrupted, "it's not our business. If he wanted to talk about it, he would have by now. As good friends, we should leave him be."

"What kind of support is that?" Mrs. Slocombe argued. "To stand by and do nothing?"

"All those in favour of standing by and doing nothing, raise your hands," Mr. Lucas said, raising his. Mr. Grainger's promptly went up, followed by Captain Peacock's.

"You men!" Mrs. Slocombe said. "If this was about Miss Belfridge, you'd all be in there like dirty shirts."

"Where is Mr. Humphries anyway?" Miss Brahms asked. "He left the floor before me."

"He had his coat on," Mr. Grainger said. "I suppose he went out for lunch."

"Or out to have a little bit of lolly," Miss Brahms suggested.

"As we only have an hour for lunch, it would be a little bit," Mrs. Slocombe said. When the others glanced inquiringly at her, she asked, "What?"

"How much time do *you* need for it?" Mr. Lucas asked, unable to keep a grin off his face.

"Instead of that fork, you need a scouring pad to clean out that filthy mouth of yours," Miss Brahms said, but Mr. Lucas chuckled.

"*You're* the one who suggested it."

Which was true. A little red, Miss Brahms bent her head over her plate.

The rest of their break passed and Mr. Lucas returned to the sales floor to find Mr. Humphries at the men's counter, just hanging up his coat.

Mr. Lucas took his place by the gloves and scarves and said in a quiet voice, "You missed the big event. It was cottage pie day today."

"I caught it yesterday when it was a hot pot, and probably the day before when it was soufflé surprise," Mr. Humphries said.

"You also missed the big topic of conversation at the table."

"Oh? What was that?"

"You," Mr. Lucas said.

"Me?" Mr. Humphries looked surprised. "What have I done now that I don't know about?"

"The ladies' counter think you're skipping lunch in favour of indoor exercise."

"I have taken up yoga. Does it show already?" Mr. Humphries asked as he looked down and checked his hips.

"Not yoga," Mr. Lucas said. "Indoor romping."

"I assure you I haven't worn rompers in years," Mr. Humphries insisted. After a beat, he amended, "Well, weeks anyway."

"Never mind," Mr. Lucas sighed. After a bit, he noticed that Mr. Humphries was eyeing the ladies' counter.

"Another display unit?" Mr. Lucas asked. However, he received his answer when he looked across the floor and saw Mrs. Slocombe and Miss Brahms glancing at the men's side of the floor and whispering.

"Not that I wish to be privy to speculation," Mr. Humphries said uncomfortably, "but just what sort of indoor exercise were they speaking of?"

"The kind where you romp without rompers," Mr. Lucas said. "They noticed you've stepped out for lunch a few times this week."

"I should be complimented they think I'm…..romping," Mr. Humphries said.

"I wouldn't feel complimented if you knew whose yard they think you're romping in."

Mr. Humphries looked affronted. "I happen to be a very friendly person with acquaintances of all sexes and genders."

He was interrupted by Captain Peacock calling across the floor. "Mr. Humphries, are you free for some y-fronts?"

Mr. Lucas could hear Miss Brahms's giggle from where he stood. Mr. Humphries sighed as he called back, "I'm free."

As he rounded the counter towards the waiting customer, Mr. Lucas heard him add softly, "I'm very free."

-

A display unit for the Grand Dame Garter company arrived during the afternoon, and promptly exploded, raining garters on the heads of several gentlemen buying bow ties. An effigy of Young Mr. Grace (unfortunately minus his head) arrived later. Both units were left in a rather gruesome manner at the end of the men's counter when Mr. Harmon got busy. They were still there by the time the store closed.

Mr. Humphries shook his head at the headless mannequin stuffed with charred garters.

"That's been putting off our sales," he said. "What do you say to customers when they ask what it is you're trying to sell with this display?"

"I said we'd had a weinee roast," Mr. Lucas shrugged. His commission was generally zilch anyway, so he hardly noticed when sales went down.

"Mr. Harmon was supposed to remove those units hours ago," Captain Peacock complained. "I shall have to have strong words with him." He turned to Mrs. Slocombe. "Have you filled out the insurance forms for the lost stock yet?"

"Why should I be stuck filling out those forms?" Mrs. Slocombe retorted. "It's not my fault the garters exploded."

"But they are your garters that have been damaged," Captain Peacock said.

Mr. Lucas fished out a neon-pink one and grinned at Mrs. Slocombe. "And where do you wear this one then? To the disco?"

She glared at him as Miss Brahms stifled a chuckle. "I shall thank you, Mr. Lucas, to keep your cakehole shut. Remember, you are speaking to a lady."

"A lady who is an undercover Rockette," Mr. Lucas said as he fished out a sparkling green garter. "You won't get lost in the dark with this one on."

"A real lady wouldn't be caught dead in those common things," Mrs. Slocombe told him firmly. "As far as I'm concerned, the lot of them can stay here on this side of the floor. I won't have those things mucking about in my drawers."

"I'm sure that would go over real well," Mr. Lucas said. "Trying to sell frilly garters at the men's counter. Who would we sell them to?"

Miss Brahms smiled sweetly at Mr. Humphries. "You could start with his friends."

Mr. Humphries rolled his eyes as Captain Peacock cleared his throat. "I think we should deal with the matter tomorrow. It's past closing time. Mr. Lucas, put those garters back into, uh, Young Mr. Grace's bust, and take it to the goods lift before you go home."

"Yes sir!" Mr. Lucas saluted and clapped his boot heels together before gathering up the charred remains. When he returned to the floor, everyone was gone except for Mr. Humphries, just coming out of the fitting room with his coat.

Mr. Lucas hesitated, then said, "That comment aside, Miss Brahms actually was worried about you at lunch."

"Worried?" Mr. Humphries asked. "I thought they were talking about romping."

"That came later." Mr. Lucas paused again. He didn't want to pry, yet Mr. Humphries' quiet demeanor was unusual. "This past week, we've all noticed you've been down, and you've missed having lunch in the canteen. Not that missing out on food poisoning is a bad thing….."

"I've been going for walks," Mr. Humphries said.

"Concerned about your health?"

"No."

When it didn't look like anything else was forthcoming, Mr. Lucas shrugged. "I guess I'll bid you goodnight."

He got halfway up the stairs, but glanced back when he didn't hear Mr. Humphries following. A garter had been lost on the floor. Mr. Humphries had picked it up and was looking at it with an odd expression on his face.

"The, uh, comments, must get wearing after a while," Mr. Lucas said.

Startled out of his reverie, Mr. Humphries dropped the garter onto the counter. He didn't look towards the stairs. Finally, Mr. Lucas came back down and took his usual spot by the gloves.

"We've told each other lots of things. You can tell me, if you want. I wouldn't tell anyone."

"I know," Mr. Humphries said. It took a minute more before he continued, "There was someone. It was…..serious. It ended last weekend."

"I'm sorry," Mr. Lucas said. He almost said the one about there being more fish in the ocean, but didn't know if it should be about female fish or male ones. "Why don't you come out with me tonight? I'm heading towards the museum, the mythology section where they have those naked statues with the big….." He stopped when Mr. Humphries gave him a look. "I mean," Mr. Lucas corrected, "the women who hang around the museum on a Friday night are usually lonely and desperate." He thought for a second, then added, "The men too."

"So, you're saying that we should go out and be lonely and desperate men in the museum."

Mr. Lucas laughed. "I hadn't thought of it that way."

"And do you usually get lucky at the museum?" Mr. Humphries asked, with a trace of his old humour.

"Well, I don't know. This would be the first time I've tried it. I generally go to the library, but the librarians are getting wise to me. The last time I was there, they asked to see my library card."
Sheepishly, he added, "I don't have one."

At the look on Mr. Humphries' face, Mr. Lucas said, "My point is, getting a little you-know-what will do wonders for us."

"Men." Mr. Humphries shook his head. "They think it's the solution to everything."

"I think it certainly cures what ails you," Mr. Lucas said. A gleam came into his eyes, and he cocked his head to the side as if looking at Mr. Humphries for the first time. "A good hard romp will certainly put some colour in your cheeks. In fact, both sets if you're on the bottom."

Mr. Humphries eyed Mr. Lucas for a moment, then dropped his gaze speculatively to the countertop. Among the many qualities Mr. Lucas appreciated in Mr. Humphries was that the latter was quick on the mark.

However, Mr. Humphries' eyes flicked towards the lift doors. "The cleaners might come up."

"Yeah, they might," Mr. Lucas agreed, not caring a whit if they did. He reached forward and opened the top button of Mr. Humphries' collar.

"Hilda and Diedre are working tonight," Mr. Humphries murmured.

"Those two have seen it all before," Mr. Lucas shrugged as he finished undoing Mr. Humphries' shirt. "Between them, they've been through five marriages."

"How do you know that?"

"Ssh," Mr. Lucas said, leaning forward to kiss the other man. It always surprised him how soft men's lips were, and how hungrily they could respond.

Their mouths opened to each other, tongues stroking together. Mr. Lucas ran his fingertips down Mr. Humphries' chest and discovered a brush of soft hair. He broke the kiss to look where he was touching. The hair was so blonde that he couldn't see it, but he could feel it under his hands. He bent to run his lips through it and onto a nipple, but was allowed to linger for a moment only before Mr. Humphries pulled his head back up.

Mr. Humphries nipped at Mr. Lucas' bottom lip before initiating another absorbing kiss. Mr. Lucas felt the pleasurable prickle of it shoot down to his groin. The next thing he felt was Mr. Humphries pulling his shirttails out of his trousers.

He helped him, almost yanking buttons off in his rush. He felt Mr. Humphries undo his belt, then reach in and caress Mr. Lucas' backside through his y-fronts.

Mr. Lucas sucked in a breath so fast that his front teeth ached. "That's *nice*," he panted, as Mr. Humphries' explorations went inside the waistband of Mr. Lucas' underwear.

"It certainly is," Mr. Humphries replied, but he was looking at the bulge of white exposed by Mr. Lucas' open zip.

Mr. Lucas undid Mr. Humphries' pants and let them drop to the floor.

"That's going to leave a crease," Mr. Humphries mumbled, but he chose to suck at Mr. Lucas' neck rather than look for a hanger. Mr. Lucas felt his erection press against the metal edge of his zipper. He went to ease the strain, but Mr. Humphries beat him to it, sliding his clothing slowly down his thighs.

"For someone who was so worried about the cleaners, you're certainly taking your time," Mr. Lucas managed, half-gasping, half-daring.

Mr. Humphries gave him a smile before resuming slow kisses over Mr. Lucas' neck and collarbone. Mr. Lucas felt his head loll back under the exquisite delight of what was being done to him, but he had enough coherent thought left to pull Mr. Humphries to him until their bodies were pressing together. He could feel the other man's sex now, pushing hard against his.

Vaguely, he thought he heard a noise. Then he realized he had - Mr. Humphries hitting into the counter before lying back over it. Mr. Lucas crawled eagerly on top, his legs straddling Mr. Humphries', and began sliding his dick against the latter's.

Something fell to the floor and both men paused in their movements. Then Mr. Lucas caught sight of what it was.

"Just one of old Grainger's pork pies," Mr. Lucas said.

"He always eats one on the train home," Mr. Humphries said, caressing Mr. Lucas' chest. "When he has his good teeth in, that is."

"He'd have a fit if he knew what we were doing on his counter."

"It's about time we had a decent display in this department." Mr. Humphries stroked down to Mr. Lucas' balls and held them, one finger sneaking underneath to touch the smooth pucker of Mr. Lucas' anus.

Mr. Lucas moaned and sucked in another sudden breath.

"All right?" Mr. Humphries asked.

"Cripes, yes," Mr. Lucas puffed. He checked to see what he was getting, and grinned at the sight of Mr. Humphries' swollen dick. Mr. Lucas knew he was a good nine inches, and Mr. Humphries outstretched him by a little more. Mr. Humphries wasn't circumcised, and pre-come was pooling
in the foreskin.

Mr. Lucas bent down to suck the tip of Mr. Humphries' dick into his mouth. The movement put his goods out of the other man's reach. He heard Mr. Humphries say, "Swing around."

He did, edging around the counter until his knees were on either side of Mr. Humphries' head. He felt Mr. Humphries' mouth enclose his cock, and the heat caused him to moan around his own mouthful.

He took in as much of Mr. Humphries' penis as he could, sliding his pursed lips down the silken shaft. He longed to press his nose into the ball sac, but couldn't get that far. Bracing his weight so that he was balanced on one hand, he brought the other up to feel the testicles, kneading them gently until they began to draw up between Mr. Humphries' thighs.

Mr. Lucas found he had been thrusting unconsciously into Mr. Humphries' mouth, encouraged by the latter's hands on his arse. A rush of tingling swept through his cock, stiffening it further.

'Shit,' he thought. 'I'm going to blow my stuff.' He didn't want to, not this quickly, and had to quickly yank himself out of Mr. Humphries' mouth.

He grabbed at his dick and squeezed hard at the base of it while he caught his breath. Mr. Humphries stilled, waiting on him.

When Mr. Lucas' breathing slowed, Mr. Humphries ran his hands along the insides of Mr. Lucas' thighs, but stopped just before the balls.

"Better now?" he whispered.

"Yes!" Mr. Lucas let go of himself, but Mr. Humphries didn't reach for him immediately. Instead he spread Mr. Lucas' ass cheeks and ran his tongue between them.

Mr. Lucas bolted upright and cried loudly. That had never been done to him before and the sheer pleasure of it was incredible.

Mr. Humphries went further, until he was drawing at the skin under Mr. Lucas' testicles, Mr. Lucas groaning continuously the entire time.

Mr. Lucas glanced down. His cock quivered, and the head was flushed a dark red. He didn't dare touch it, afraid even the slightest friction would make him come. As it was, he could actually see it throb with every suck from down below, and his heart was pounding up into his ears.

When Mr. Lucas was a bare wisp away from climax, Mr. Humphries broke contact. Though his dick ached heavily, Mr. Lucas understood. Fair was fair.

He turned around so that he was facing the other man, then leaned down and drew Mr. Humphries' penis into his mouth.

Mr. Humphries' pre-come tasted of sweet tea and a male muskiness that excited Mr. Lucas. He sucked in as much as he could, and discovered that this angle allowed him to take nearly all of it in. He pulled at it hard, his tongue stroking from where blonde pubic hair tickled up to the stretched foreskin, and then to the slit which was weeping fluid profusely.

Mr. Lucas wet his fingers in his saliva and Mr. Humphries' pre-come, and explored until he found Mr. Humphries' anus. He rubbed the entrance for a few seconds, then pushed two of his fingers inside.

Mr. Humphries jumped, then made a groan himself. He spread his legs even further apart.

Mr. Lucas put a third finger in and began thrusting them in sync with the movement of his mouth. Mr. Humphries' balls jerked up and hardened. Mr. Lucas continued until the dick in his mouth pulsed in preparation to ejaculate. Then he lifted away and leaned up to kiss the other man.

When their lips met, they both cried out. Their kisses became ragged and frantic.

Mr. Lucas felt Mr. Humphries maneuver his legs over Mr. Lucas' hips, the invitation clear though unspoken. Mr. Lucas withdrew his fingers and guided his cock into Mr. Humphries' sphincter. He had prepared the opening so well that he entered easily.

It was tight, the passage richly hot and stimulating. But when Mr. Lucas was all the way in, he paused, unsure. Mr. Humphries must have guessed his dilemma, for he grabbed Mr. Lucas' arse and directed the angle so that the latter would hit his prostate.

Delirious and grateful, Mr. Lucas began thrusting. Their mouths came back together, smacking almost as violently as the fucking going on below. Mr. Lucas felt the beginning sensations of an orgasm. He desperately desired one now. His dick was burning with need, and over-stimulated by the tight channel enclosing it.

He groaned loudly into Mr. Humphries' mouth. He wanted an orgasm. He needed one. He needed to crash over and spill out his semen until his balls emptied.

The precipice came. Mr. Lucas thrust a last time and whirled into glorious relief, his ejaculate bursting from him in a torrent.

Mr. Humphries bucked up against him, holding him with unexpected strength. Heat splattered between them, seed arcing up until their chests were sticky and covered.

Mr. Lucas held onto the sides of the counter, and gave a silent thanks that the rickety old legs of the unit hadn't given out. As it was, they'd made quite a mess, gloves and scarves thrown out over the floor, the tie rack dangling from an edge. He figured various bodily prints had been smudged everywhere.

He looked down into Mr. Humphries' eyes. The latter looked as amused as Mr. Lucas felt.

"It's going to feel strange serving customers at this counter come Monday," Mr. Lucas murmured as he sat up.

Mr. Humphries rose to his elbows and nodded. "The longer I work here, the more memories I'm acquiring."

Mr. Lucas' eyebrows rose. He had slid down onto the floor to hunt for their clothes, but paused. "Excuse me?" he grinned. "This isn't your first time on the counter?"

"On the *counter*, yes," Mr. Humphries said as he figured out which y-fronts were his and put them on.

Mr. Lucas stared at him in awe. "Where else then?" He thought about it for a moment. "*Who* else then?"

Mr. Humphries shook his head with a smile as he finished dressing. "Still fancy that museum?" he asked.

"I don't need it now," Mr. Lucas replied. "What do you say we grab a late dinner at Beppos?"

"After we set things to rights," Mr. Humphries said, eyeing the profusion of men's accessories on the floor. "And we've got to take a cloth to this counter before Hilda and Diedre come up. I don't want them witnesses to the scene of our glory." He wiped the counter as Mr. Lucas quickly restored the sales items.

The men had just finished when the lift doors opened. Two cleaning women stepped out, carrying buckets and mops. As they descended the stairs, one of them shook her head and said bemusedly, "Another late night, Mr. Humphries?"

The other one gave Mr. Lucas an appraising look and added, "It's the pretty boy tonight, not like the last--"

Mr. Humphries coughed. The ladies laughed at his discomfort before setting to work.

"Dinner, Mr. Lucas?" Mr. Humphries asked, looking innocent.

Curious and impressed, Mr. Lucas returned the look. "Yes, I'm starving."

The two men got their coats. They went into the lift, but just as the doors were closing, Mr. Lucas heard the cleaning ladies laugh again and one call out, "Don't you two be getting into mischief. You be good boys tonight."

"I always am," Mr. Humphries said.

As the lift descended, Mr. Lucas asked, "Peacock?"

"You have a bit of dust on your lapel," Mr. Humphries said, brushing it off.

"Rumbold? Grainger?" Mr. Lucas persisted. He thought further, then cried out, "Not Young Mr. Grace?"

"Ssh," Mr. Humphries said, and leaned over and kissed him.

(end)