“The problem with the Temporal Bureau,” said Osmond, as he casually gave Tegan the best dick of his life, “is that they think they’re the only ones who are allowed to be right.”
Tegan nodded vaguely, trying to pay attention. He knew that if he stopped paying attention, Osmond would stop sharing information and he might not be inclined to start again. And he’d only just gotten to the stuff Tegan cared about after a long history lesson about the people who’d built the ziggurats. “Most people…think that,” he panted.
“Yeah, but most people don’t have the ability to enforce it by forcing time to flow in a particular direction,” Osmond explained. He had one hand on Tegan’s hip and was fiddling with the device Tegan had given him in his other.
Tegan had known the Bureau was shitty because they had for some reason decided not to bring Yender back, so this wasn’t totally a surprise. “I thought they were supposed to just stop people from changing time.”
“Yeah, well, there’s an argument to be made that time is supposed to be mutable.” Osmond flipped Tegan onto his back, his legs on Osmond’s chest, and started fucking him a little harder. “Anyway, their records are probably going to say you don’t exist, and they’re not going to like being told that you do.”
“So we don’t tell them I do,” Tegan said, ending on a long whinge as he came for the sixth or seventh time in the last few hours. At first he’d thought the Narrator was rewarding him for his hardworking nature, but he was starting to wonder if this was a punishment. His dick was twitching uselessly, producing nothing at this point. But he’d persevere. “Easy.”
“Easy, unless you end up needing access to their records,” Osmond mused, still looking at his device instead of Tegan. He was utterly unconcerned about Tegan’s plight, or maybe he just thought it was funny. It was hard to say. “Which, considering they’re the ones who you’re after, is going to be an issue.”
“I think the time mafia technically erased Yender,” Tegan said, panting now. He’d be okay in a second.
“Yeah, their record keeping isn’t quite as thorough,” Osmond muttered. He gave a sharp thrust and started to fill Tegan up with cum that made him feel like he was being electrocuted from the inside. “Your best bet with them is going to be to kidnap one of them and make them talk.”
“I’m not, not that proficient in torture,” Tegan slurred.
“Try letting them fuck you,” Osmond suggested, scooping Tegan up and walking into one of the adjoining caves with him still speared. “That makes people talkative.”
Tegan nodded, taking deep breaths. “Noticed.”
Osmond snorted and pressed Tegan up against a metal cabinet while he rummaged around for something. “Your ability to travel between worlds is probably because you got unmoored thanks to Yender disappearing. You’re technically a paradox, which makes it hard for you to stay in place in time. You’ve been moving through other verses because time is both rejecting you and trying to find a place for you.”
“Doesn’t, uh…make sense…” Osmond wasn’t holding Tegan up, just counting on him being folded in half against the shelf to prevent him from falling as he fucked Tegan.
“Paradoxes don’t. Don’t think too hard about it.” He pulled Tegan away from the shelf, brought him over to a desk. He turned Tegan over again and bend him over the desk, putting a book beside him with a stack of paper. “I have some information here on time mafia operatives, but let’s go over how they operate first. You’ll be able to evade them a while because of the paradox thing, which is also true of the Bureau, but they’re going to notice you looking for them eventually, so you’d better target the right people. Hey, you’re warmed up, right? I can start fucking you properly?”
Osmond took that as a yes, and started going way faster. Tegan whinged again, but tried to stay focused on the explanation Osmond started giving of the time mafia. It was important, this was what he’d come here for.
And the Narrator never gave anything away for free.