goldenboywrites

[goldenboywrites]

Apollo turned at the sound of Cassio’s voice; he eyed his best friend for a moment, trying to decipher the look on his face. He still didn’t know why there was thick tension between them or why he felt like Cassio had his guard up. He didn’t know what happened, but there was one thing Apollo was sure of. Cassio was the one who had knocked him out. Everything pointed to that. Apollo had woken face down on the floor; he imagined he had been blasted backward, considering the broken table pieces surrounding his body when he was in the basement. He knew that Oliver would never be able to take him down physically; Isaac wouldn’t be able to bring himself to do it. That left Cassio. His closet and oldest friend. He was the only one with enough training to catch Apollo off guard.

But with that, Apollo knew, deep down, that Cassio would only physically attack him if he had exhausted all other options. He hated not knowing what had happened or what he had done, but there were bigger things than the past. His primary focus was on Theo’s future. 

He moved past Cassio and threw the clothes in his hands on the dresser. “We both know what my next move is,” He said, reaching up and grabbing the back of his shirt, pulling it off his body in one fluid motion. “I’m going to track down that fucking monster and make sure he can never lay a hand on that boy again.” He turned to look at Cassio after pulling on his shirt. “We both know men like him don’t stop. He’s probably working on tracking Theo down as we speak. I can’t..” He swallowed hard, turning away from Cassio and focusing on dressing himself. He popped open the button of his jeans and slid them down his legs, exchanging them for more flexible, black-fitted pants. “I can’t,” He tried again, shaking his head as if that would do away with the overwhelming bubble of emotion he felt. “I can’t let Alexandria’s sacrifice be in vain, Cassio.”

Apollo bent down, tugging a small chest from beneath the bed. After waving his hand over it, the chest popped open. He pulled a dagger from it, sheathing it in the strap at his thigh. “I don’t expect you to come with me,” He said as he stood back up, turning to face Cassio, studying his face for details about what was wrong between them. “Especially not at a time when you can barely look at me. I take full responsibility for what I’m about to do.” They had done things like this before, back during their uni days—always the two of them, always together. He was the only person Apollo trusted to have his back. It would kill him to do this alone, but he would for his son. 

“But I’m asking that you don’t stand there and lecture me or try and stall me. You saw what Theo went through. It’s written all over your boyfriend’s body. We're all in danger if I don’t act now, and he tracks us down, including Oliver. All it takes is that fuck demanding a DNA test, and Theo goes back to him. And,” Apollo cleared his throat, feeling the thick swell of grief overtake him. He sat down on the edge of the bed, pulling his boots over to him, slipping them on, and lacing them up tightly. “And Alexandria…wherever her body is deserves to be properly buried. Theo might one day need a place to be with her. She doesn’t deserve to be in an unmarked grave. So,” He stood up, crossing his arms over his chest. “What’s it going to be, Cassio?”

If anyone knew what was about to happen, it was that blonde helping the other two get up those stairs. The headache threatening to explode from behind his eyes did little to help his irritation with tonight's events. And even more so because he just wanted to be with Oliver. After everything he just wanted to relax and unwind and process what happened throughout the day. And mostly, he just wanted to decenter himself from the world and enter his own.

It felt like an eternity once the three of them got into the room and Oliver settled onto the bed. This wasn't the first time they'd spent the night. Could be the last. And so it was nice to see that Oliver could at least relax enough. Isaac was prattling on about a possible concussion and it only made Cass feel worse for him wanting to leave as quickly as they'd gotten in. He sat quietly on the edge of the bed while Oliver was fussed over and he couldn't help but smile at it. Even with as frustrating as this all was, that man was still able to put a smile on his face and he loved him all the more for it.

Cassio scooted in and pressed a soft kiss to Oliver's cheek, giving Isaac a soft smile. "I'm going to go check on Apollo an make sure he's okay and not going to jump off the house or find another mystery for us to solve in his spare time." Oliver gave a soft whine in protest but Cass shushed him and insisted he'd be back quickly. Though he didn't miss that look that Isaac leveled at him but he was far beyond worrying about that small of an issue. Well, that small to him anyway.

It felt like he had blocks on his feet, the walk over to their bedroom was agonizing. At least this time he wouldn't have to worry about seeing Apollo's bare ass this time. A sigh of relief left his lips as he slipped in the still open door and found the little boy asleep in the bed. "Apollo?" He whispered, noticing some movement coming from the closet and he took a step towards it and then another. Part of him was still very on edge from earlier and the behavior he'd displayed earlier but honestly, he seemed less ... horny. "Apollo, what the fuck are you doing in there?" He questioned a bit louder this time, putting his hand on the door and pulling it fully open. His brow furrowed seeing his friend just standing there with clothes in his hands. Maybe they both really needed to sit down and figure their shit out.

[goldenboywrites]

Apollo leaned heavily on Isaac, listening to him, and then Cassio as he filled him in on what he had missed. No one had answered why he was missing the last few hours, but it didn’t matter. There was a higher priority. Theo was a higher priority. He hated missing pieces of his memory, mainly because Cassio kept struggling to hold his gaze, and Apollo couldn’t even figure out what could have happened to cause that. He would fix things with Cassio later. Apollo had a one-track mind, and it was set on revenge right now. 

He had grown up with the same type of man Theo did. He knew what kind of monster his biological father was because Apollo’s father was the same. They were always the same, meaning he wouldn’t give up until he found Theo again. Men like that rarely let their victims get away. This wasn’t a situation Apollo could go to the Aurors about; if he brought it to their attention, he would lose Theo once they ran their DNA and realized they weren’t related. No. A situation like this needed to be handled silently for the safety of everyone in the room. 

His magic raged through his body, demanding he act now. His mind consumed his need for revenge and blood to keep his family safe. But if Apollo stormed off in front of them, they would stop or follow him. He couldn’t have that. “I think you two should stay in the guest room tonight. Oliver is drained, and this way, Isaac can help heal him. And if anything happens, then we’re all here to protect Theo. At least, until we can track down his biological father.” He wouldn’t need more than a night to neutralize that threat. He didn’t look at Cassio as he crossed the living room to Theo, knowing the blonde could read him. Hopefully, with Oliver hurt, Cassio would only have eyes for his boyfriend and not meddle in Apollo’s plans. 

He cradled the little boy in his arms, cradling him against his chest. Theo turned his head into Apollo’s chest, seeking his warmth and protection. “You’re safe now,” He whispered to the boy, kissing his mop of brown hair. “You’re safe forever.” 

“I’ll settle Theo down for the night and then set about creating protection and detection wards around the house,” he said to the room as he made his way to the stairs. He needed to keep them busy if he would slip away from them. “Isaac will help you get Oliver up to the guest room and will assist in healing him. There are far too many wounds for you to handle alone. When everyone is fully rested tomorrow, we can reconvene and figure out what to do next.” By then, Theo’s dad would no longer be a threat. He would be dead. 

Apollo didn’t wait for them to agree; he went up the stairs and into his and Isaac’s room, setting the little boy down in the middle of their bed. He brushed back his hair from his eyes, feeling wetness on his cheeks as he looked at him. He blinked the tears from his eyes, brushing his fingers along the curve of the child’s jaw. He had never wanted another child to go through what he had growing up. He didn’t want Theo to grow up making the same choices he had, living the same life of distrust Apollo had. And he was furious at Alexandria for not contacting him before it was too late. He could have saved her if she had told him. If he had known. Why had she only trusted him when it was too late?

He wiped his face and then set to work, boxing Theo in with pillows so he wouldn’t roll off the bed. Then he went to the closet, pushing back clothes and boxes until he found the invisible, hidden hatch that would only react to his touch. He pulled out a set of clothes, attire spelled to react like armor, the same ones he had used when he was back at university doing the bidding of dark wizards. There wasn’t much need for the clothing these days unless he was set out to extinguish a threat, but it was comforting to keep them close by. For nights like this.

Isaac was at his side the second time he slipped. Truly this day had to be in the books for a record of some kind. Plenty were being broken that day. His fingers twitched before he placed his hands on him but this time he was certain that there wasn't a chance of him being subjected to his magic again. No, things had gone from bad to worse and the babe was none the wiser. And off all of them in that room, he was the one that was going to tell Apollo exactly how their lives were about to change because they decided to choose each other rather than letting his betrothal go through as their parents had intended. His gaze slid to Oliver and Cass and he knew he had to.

"We cas' the spell." Isaac spoke softly, seeing blood smears on the fabric and he immediately bristled. Keep it together. "Well, Oli'va' did." His gaze lingering all over his partner until he found the source of the blood on his hand. He was gentle but quick with rooting through his hair to see exactly how bad it was. Thankfully it looked relatively clean and no more than an inch or so. He'd be okay but that had to be fixed now. Fingers gently moved to the spot and he muttered softly under his breath, watching as his words spoke action into existence. "Theo wasn' safe where he was an' Alex knew tha' sendin' him he'e would be best."

Apollo's skin slowly stitched itself together as he watched and Isaac breathed out slowly. His arms wrapped around Apollo tightly and he just held him. There was so much insanity he just needed to be grounded to him in that moment. And especially before he went on. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Cass whispering in Oliver's ear. He couldn't make it out but decided that maybe that wasn't for him. They deserve privacy too. Cassio did. He knew he was close with Alexandra, if for no other reason than the man under his touch at that moment.

"His real da' was abusive an' she was very sca'ed." His tone was even but quiet, his now bloody fingers motioned towards the pair on the floor and winced seeing his friend like that. He could only imagine how that could translate to a body nearly a quarter his size. Isaac's stomach flipped and he decided that whatever hell was coming would be worth it. "She knew tha' we would ta'e care o' him." His lip started to quiver then and he grew quiet. His eyes drifted to the little form of Theo laying on that floor as if he were always meant to be there. "He's ... he's stayin' with us." There wasn't room for discussion that front. Whatever questions he had he could ask Oliver but Isaac wrapped his arms around the man and held him as tight as he could manage. "'m so sorry." He whispered, kissing the soft spot under his ear just ever so slightly.

Cass stared at the little boy's sleeping face and found himself oddly envious in that moment. He wondered for a moment if anyone had ever took the time to watch him sleep when he was younger. He felt Oliver flinch under him as his shoulder bumped into his and Cass finally pulled back. His hands immediately reaching for his face to wipe way any sign that he'd cried or let the frustration truly take over. Because for once, this wasn't his fault. It wasn't because of something he and Apollo were involved in but it seriously made him question what they were doing. He'd been questioning it for a while but today was enough to know that it was enough.

"She's dead, Apollo." He spoke plainly, pulling his gaze from the boy and finally holding Apollo's gaze then. His fingers gently rubbed over Oliver's arm and he sighed out, feeling the air hit his face and he let another tear go. "She got him out but .." He trailed off, not really knowing where they were meant to go from that moment. There'd been some bombshells but the blonde had had his fill for the rest of his life so far as he was concerned.

[goldenboywrites]

Oliver was pulled into Cassio’s arms, the blonde’s head tucked into the crook of his neck. The movement hurt his aching body, but he refused to call out in pain. He swallowed it down because he knew, deep down, how much Cass needed this, needed to touch him. If only to reassure himself that Oliver was there, Oliver was breathing. He wouldn’t take that away from his boyfriend, no matter how hard it hurt at that moment. And it did hurt. Every inch of Oliver’s body felt swollen and bruised, but he had done it. He knew how to help Theo. The spell had been successful, and Oliver had done it. 

“I don’t know exactly, but I saw the fear in her eyes when she said goodbye to Theo. She knew she wasn’t returning from whatever he would do to her when he realized Theo was out of that house.” There was a slight chance she had survived, but Oliver knew in his heart she hadn’t. He had felt the man’s power, the man’s rage. Alexandra had sacrificed herself to save her son, and she trusted them all to take care of her little boy, to give him the life she couldn’t. “She knew he would kill both of them eventually. It…you guys, it was so fucking bad. Theo would breathe wrong, and that man would lock him in a closet. If he was too loud if he cried. There was always a reason for him to rage out on him…” 

How long would it take that man to find Theo here with them? He would know Alexandria had gotten Theo out. Men like that don’t just give up. His gaze sought out the little boy, tearing up at the sight of him sleeping peacefully. He was thankful the spell hadn’t hurt Theo like it had hurt Oliver. He was thankful that the boy was with them. Every single person in this house would protect Theo with their lives. Oliver, especially. He wouldn’t let Alexandria’s sacrifice be in vain. 

“I can sketch Theo’s dad so we know who to look for, but no other information than what I’ve already shared with you guys. She sent him to Apollo, knowing he would take him in and protect him. She knew we all would protect him. That’s what we have to do. That’s all we can do at this point.” 

When Apollo came to, his vision was blurry and his head fuzzy. He rolled his heavy body over and moved onto his knees. The movement caused a wave of nausea to wash over him, and before he knew it, he was throwing up what little remnants were in his stomach. He wiped his mouth with his hand and dragged himself to his feet. At first glance, fear coursed through his body, his heart beating relentlessly because he didn’t initially recognize where he was. Had he been captured? Was he being tortured? But after glancing around his surroundings, he realized he was in his own basement. 

The door clicked open, and Apollo stumbled to the stairs. He had been concussed way too many times to not recognize the signs. But what had happened? His hair felt wet, and he reached up, his hand coming back with blood on his fingers. His body felt bruised to shit too. As he climbed the stairs, he tried to recall what he remembered last. The fight. He and Isaac are fighting over Cassio and Oliver coming around to see Theo. But that didn’t make much sense to him. Their fights were never physical; they would never lay hands on each other in violence. 

He went up to the first floor, stumbling into the living room, where he heard them all talking. He sought out Isaac first, eyes scanning over him to ensure he was safe. Then he saw Cassio, who was untouched but cradling Oliver in his arms, who was hurt, and then little Theo, asleep in the middle of the room, not harmed. His body sagged with relief. “What happened?” He asked, his words slurred as his head throbbed to the point that the room spun. He held Cassio’s gaze, trying to decipher the uncomfortable look on his face as their eyes met. “I don’t remember…I,” His knees gave out, and he grasped the edge of the couch, steadying himself against the furniture to remain standing. “I’m missing time. Hours.” Cassio was struggling to keep Apollo’s gaze, making his stomach twist painfully. That wasn’t how things were between them. “What happened?” He asked again, more forcefully.

Alexandria may not have been Cass' favorite person in the world but what had happened to her. Well, what they were assuming had happened, was awful. She'd just been another victim of the awful sub-society that their families all subscribed to. He wondered briefly if his and her's and Apollo's family's maybe had been afforded another opportunity there could have been different ways, different outcomes. Different thems. There were a lot of things Cas was wishing for in that moment, one specifically was to know how Orion was that damn powerful to be able to do that. Perhaps he's not just a junkie. He could ask all those questions of Oliver later on, he knew he'd answer now if he'd asked but they'd already lost enough time.

"So," He started softly, smoothing his hands gently along Oliver's back. He was mindful of how he touched him as he was still trying to piece together how the hell any of this was possible. He supposed that was the beauty and horror of magic. "W-what happened to Alex .. ?" He asked, knowing damn well he'd already known the answer. Apollo was absolutely going to lose his fucking mind when he found out about this. The blonde's head whipped towards the cellar door and another pang of regret washed over him again. This day could go straight to hell for all he cared. As a matter of fact, if he'd wake up right then and there and this was all a nightmare, he'd be so damn grateful but he knew that wasn't going to happen.

Cass immediately took to burying his head in Oliver's neck, apologizing as he did so for any discomfort he caused. How the hell could a little boy cry out like that? How could anyone hurt someone so vulnerable and .. his thoughts trailed off as Cass inhaled his boyfriend's scent and got as close as humanly possible. He had had it bad growing up. A backhand to the mouth every now and then and some truly disgusting words that a child should never hear but it hadn't been like that.

It was moments like this that had Isaac questioning whether or not he truly deserved the things that came into his life. And this one was about that beautiful little boy. But this was more to do with how he came to be in the world. It had been him. And if he expressed this thought to Apollo he'd assure that that wasn't the case and that Theodore would have always been. It would have been in the design. But as Isaac stood there, arms wrapped around his own middle he knew it had been his fault. Alexandria and Apollo were meant to get married. They should have been married and that little boy would have been Apollo's. But Isaac found a man following him one night and from that night on, he was never able to stop luring him on and towards their future. He'd been so good at it that he'd even managed to incorporate little bits of Apollo's bleed over now too.

Isaac was quiet, letting Oliver comfort Cass and vice versa. They all needed a minute he thought. And so he spelled up a basin of warm water a few wash clothes to clean the two up when they were ready. His gaze still hadn't really left the chubby little cherub face that had come to disrupt his whole life that afternoon. A small smile pulled at the corners of his mouth as Isaac took a wash cloth in one hand and wetted it. He wondered, briefly, if Alexandria had spelled the little boy to look like Apollo for that reason as well. Had she known what was coming for her? He hoped now. Even after everything, Apollo had assured him that he and her hadn't ended on bad terms. Even gave him life updates sometimes. But he was starting to wonder if it had been Apollo lying to him about this or her lying to Apollo and that whole slue of events.

"Di' ya see anythin' else, Oli'va?" Isaac asked softly, tearing his gaze from the child to the cellar door. Without a word, Isaac raised his hand and it popped open. Apollo needed to be up here. Isaac just hoped that Cassio knocking him out was enough to knock the veela magic from his system. For as frustrating as this day had been, at least he knew now for certain that that wasn't something they could play with in the bedroom. Which wasn't ideal but Isaac was not ready for repeat of whatever the hell happened today. "Apollo?" Isaac hollered, looking over towards Oliver and Cassio to see the daggers they were staring. "I will ta'e ca'e o' 'im if nee' be." He assured them, moving closer towards the door just in case. "Bu', was tha' all o' it? Not'in' else?"

[goldenboywrites]

“I brought you here to see how well we maintain what we’ve built. You’ve seen it firsthand. Humans willingly come here, and they leave well intact. I invited you here with goodwill, and you’ve seen from your visit that no human is being hurt or even killed.” His eyes drifted to the man on the floor. “Except for one, but he will recover. I wasn’t expecting you to pick up a human during your visit. I thought you would be on the job, looking for me.” His gaze landed back on the slayer, observing as the man stalked towards him. 

“Most humans are ignorant of our kind, yes. However, I think most of them in this city are suspects. Few have sought us out here in this club who enjoyed our kin-” His words cut off and he winced, taking a step back as a powerful invasion coursed through his mind. Cain’s hands gripped his head, it hurt. He felt a wet trail of blood leaking from his nose down to his chin. You’re straying from the course, Cain. Dodger’s voice rang out in his mind. He didn’t dare look over to the vampire on the floor, as to not give him away, but his words were clear as day. 

He wiped his nose against the back of his sleeve and shook his head, the pain, thankfully, had dissipated. “Someone like you is called when too many vampires reside in an area,” He corrected. “You’re population control.” 

Cum rag sop up. Dodger forced himself not to move, but his shoulders threatened to shake with laughter. He wished he could see Cain’s face at the insult. His face was probably all red and his eyes narrowed. He was anything but amused after he heard Flynn’s next words. Do not take that offer, Cain. Dodger said into the man’s head. He would use forced if he had to, but he wanted to avoid giving up his advantage. It was too early in their game for Flynn to be requesting to meet the higher ups. He needed to know the slayer more before they had gotten to this point. Cain was supposed to come in and Flynn was supposed to put him down and save Dodger. That was the plan. 

He stirred slightly from his position on the ground, rolling himself over onto his back. Dodger groaned, lifting a heavy hand to cup his forehead, fingers pressing against a rather large knot. He could take his own pain away, but for acting purposes, he left it on full blast. The throb in his head, back, and neck helped him stay in character. Attack me. 

Cain’s head jerked towards Dodger, nose sniffing the air at the scent of blood that filled the room. His eyes flared as he tracked his prey. He moved fluidly, quickly towards the man on the floor before Flynn could track the movement. He lifted Dodger up as if he were nothing. The man’s feet kicked helplessly as he was held in the air. “F-Flynn,” He spoke out, the name sounding broken as the vampire’s hand clasped around his throat. “Go.” Dodger’s face was red, cheeks puffing out as he fought for air he didn’t really need. “Run.”

"Tell me," He started, looking down at his shirt and he pretended to pick a piece of fuzz from it as he did so. "What makes you think I would agree to anything with the likes of you?" He shot back, taking in the man before him. He was old that much was clear but not old enough to where Flynn felt he couldn't take him with his bare hands. At least that was weighing in his favor at the moment. There was still the matter of the blonde crumbled up off to the side but as it looked as though he were still breathing, there was time to figure out what the hell was really going on. It felt too .... clean.

"You know as well as I do that humans are ignorant at their best." He started, not giving the vamp even a moment to lean in on that statement. "However, I very seriously doubt any of them are willingly being bit." His jacket creaked as his arms dropped down to his sides and he took a step towards his new friend. "And even if they are. Something tells me that it may not be their good nature that's willing to drop the head back like some discarded blood bag you'd find in a dumpster." Flynn smiled at the man then but it was short lived. Instead he took to pacing the short distance between the sofa and what he guessed was an end table. His eye was carefully trained between the vampire, the space between them and the proximity of Dodger to them. It was maddening to have to consider someone he wasn't entirely sure wasn't here for what this vampire was claiming.

He decided Dodger was still okay enough to function as the heap he was on the floor and pushed forward with their conversation. "And furthermore, you've been around a while." He covered his mouth and gasped softly. "Sorry. I wasn't trying to age shame you." A wicked grin covered his lips and Flynn carried on. "But you know someone like me only shows up when someone has fucked up." The slayer took two steps towards the vampire, better placing himself between the man and the creature. The smile was fading as he moved and he took to placing his hands in the front pockets of his jeans just then. Flynn balanced his weight from the front of his feet to the balls and back again. "And I'm here to tell you that you all fucked up spectacularly."

He could feel the anger radiating off the vampire in front of him. If he were being honest, he wasn't exactly a happy fuckin camper at this point in time either. But one of these bloodsuckers was going to help him whether they liked it or not. He just had to figure out which of them was going to get him the closest to the family he'd been tracking for the better part of his adult life. "But," He sighed, feeling some of the tension leave his body as he did so. "If you set me up a meeting with your actual boss and not his bottom of the barrel, cum rag sop up then I might be willing to just let this little debauchery hole continue for the night." Flynn flashed another smile and folded his body forward, towards the vamp. "How's that sound, cupcake?"

[goldenboywrites]

Ignatius pulled his lower lip in between his teeth and chewed on it. Sure, he was stalling, but he didn’t have an easy answer to Julius’s question. Am I safe to assume you don’t like me? He heard feel the slight insecurity tumble down their thin bond between them even though the prince tried his hardest to hide it on his face. No matter how much effort he put into controlling his tone. “I don’t like or dislike you,” He said, going for the most straightforward answer. It was entirely the truth, though; Iggy wanted Julius. From the moment they met, he wanted him. His soul yearned to remain close to him, wanted to touch him, wanted them to keep talking because even if it was borderline tense, it was them together. “Like I said, prince, I won’t decide on you until your actions prove the words you speak.” 

Julius stood abruptly, and Iggy’s gaze slowly tracked the prince’s movements. He could tell something was bothering the man, but he couldn’t pinpoint what it was. He assumed it was their conversation. If that was the case, then good; Iggy needed to know how to poke at prince to get a reaction. He had to remember that he was here on a mission. Victor was the rest of the rebellion, and they were counting on him to dismantle the royal family. It would be better to start before their bond was fully effective. Once that was set in motion, Iggy would have to use most of his magic and energy to fight against it. 

“I don’t know,” He said, stretching his legs out and bending forward to crack his back. The prince’s question had thrown him off. Why did he care? But it was more than that. It was the fact that Ignatius couldn’t answer him. Since he was presented as a wizard, Iggy’s entire life was about his magic, training, and the bond. “It’s not like I have a family or a home to return to.” The wizard had been taken when he was so young he didn’t even know where he had grown up. “This is all I have, and it’s all I’ve known.”

There is little Ignatius remembers before his magic. Playing in a yard, catching oranges, and eating them while lying in the sun. He remembers his mother making cookies but can’t recall her features or voice. “It’s better that way, I think,” He whispered, turning his head to avoid Julius’ gaze. “Can’t miss what you barely remember.” He didn’t have other dreams for his future because he had always known what path he would be forced to take. “Anyways,” Iggy clapped his hands and stood up, wiping his face clear of emotion or expression. “It doesn’t matter. I’m here, and I’ll remind you that I came here willingly. I could have run from this and made you chase me around the world because, trust me, you would have.” 

“We should go back before they send a search party for you. I can imagine your father will want to talk to you, and there are things for you two to plan.” He reached out, offering his hand to Julius. “He may not tell you, but he knows what my presence here means, though I can imagine the struggle he will face coming to terms with his mortality. I’ll assess his wizard for any threats. They aren’t bonded like we will be. If something happens to you before your father passes, his life will be spared, and we will die. You’re not safe from his wizard until you’re on the throne.”

It felt like drums were going off in his head the more Iggy spoke. Not because he didn't want to hear what he was saying but because he already knew what it was going to be. That feeling that was radiating off of the other couldn't be denied. Hell, he wasn't sure the gods would allow it to be even if he'd entertain that idea. What Julius had now come to understand about all of this was very plainly in front of him then and it hurt to hear but at least there were a base of understanding. Where he stood at least. His juror was still out on the man next to him. He couldn't blame him for the feelings he harbored towards him. The older he got, the less sparkly the throne had begun to seem to him. But that wasn't a truth he was ever willing to admit to anyone other than in his own thoughts.

"So am I safe to assume that you don't like me?" Julius asked quite plainly. He didn't need to be liked. If there was anything he'd be thankful to his father for it was that. And that wasn't to say they had a bad relationship but he understood that being king or in any position of power did not automatically grant you favor as many thought it had. Julius was now sitting face to face with that lesson. He never thought it'd be so blatant or that it'd be from his wizard but even the gods had a funny sense of humor from time to time. What he was curious about was when he'd said he wouldn't commit to an opinion but he already had. Clearly.

Julius didn't give him a chance to answer but instead pushed off the fountain. The closeness of Iggy was something he'd have to get used to. All that weight that came with him and, well, the feelings too. The prince craved to know more about the bond but it seemed every time he'd made an inquiry about the wizard's magic, his anger came back broiling. Which, now that he knew some of what would happen, it made sense. Julius never dreamt he'd wield magic or find himself in a position to. Everyone else around him always warned of it's need and how crucial it was. And he could see their well meaning intentions. Not everyone thought as he had and perhaps that would be the downfall of this kingdom and maybe it wouldn't. Maybe it could be a different way forward. Not an outside thought.

"What would you be doing right now?" He asked, looking back at Iggy over his shoulder. He had to admit the way the sun highlighted his hair and shone in his eyes was something. The prince drew in a deep breath, feeling that ache return to his chest and stomach alike. If this was just the beginning of their feelings for each other, he wasn't sure he'd be able to keep to himself forever. Perhaps he'll feel gracious enough to explain that little morsel of information. "I mean if you weren't here obviously." He turned a bit more, taking in more of Iggy and his felt his very chest start to rise in answer, like he was his breath. Fuck. "What would you be doing that you wanted to do?"

[goldenboywrites]

Quintus glanced up at the sound of his childhood nickname and was immediately blinded by a quick flash. His eyes squinted, and his lips turned down into a scowl aimed at the perpetrator. Part of him wanted to reach forward and snatch the phone, but a more significant part liked that Cesare had wanted a picture of him. He would have this little piece of Quin after he was gone again. 

Because he was leaving, Quin wasn’t in the habit of getting to keep nice things. He certainly wouldn’t ever be able to keep this. He knew Cesare didn’t understand, but one day, he would be grateful that Quin had left. 

There’s a tomb down the hall. Quin shivered at Cesare’s words, the hairs on his arms standing on edge. It was too true, too fitting for what he had gone through, and Cesare didn’t even have an inkling how much truth he spoke at that moment, but Quin did. He had always known. “You keep making it sound like I had a choice.” Quin brought his leg up onto the counter, bending and tucking his leg against his chest. He leaned forward, resting his chin on top of his knee, and turning to look at Cesare, who was a mere step away from him. “Max and I didn’t leave,” He parroted back mockingly.

Max and I didn’t leave. He repeated Cesare’s words over and over again in his head. It was like he was six years old again and running after them, begging to be included in their little playdates. Max and Cesare were everything to each other. Quin and Cesare had one summer together before it was ripped away. They got to stay together, but Quin was dragged away. After everything, Quin returned and still has to hear about it. It still comes back down to those two. Max and Cesare. Cesare and Max. They were a constant. It was constantly annoying. 

“What would you have done?” He raised a brow and issued the challenge. “If you were a teenager and your legal guardian packed your shit up and said you were being shipped off to another country for school? The following day, you were suddenly dropped off in a foreign country without a phone, money, or access to resources. You’re sent to this reform school that is locked down like a prison. Seriously, Cesare. Was I supposed to run away and walk back here? He would have shipped me off again, probably even further, if I did that. So, let’s hear it.” His eyes narrowed into slits. “Let’s hear your perfect little answer about how you would fight to get back to Maximus.”

“Because that’s really what this is about, isn’t it?” Quin hated feeling like this. Like a feral cat backed into a corner, fur standing on edge and ready to strike. He couldn’t help himself. He had always been torn between locking down his emotions and being suffocated by them. “You think I should have fought harder. It’s what you and Max would have done, right? Fight tooth and nail to get back to each other.” He looked away from Cesare, unable to keep their gaze connected, as he spat angry accusations at the man. “I didn’t fight at all to stay.” Quin’s shoulders fell, his body hunched forward as he wrapped his arms around his leg. He refused to look at Cesare. “Guess you already knew that about me, though, so I suppose it doesn’t count for your little game.”

Cesare couldn't be entirely sure if his mouth was hanging wide open still or if he'd managed to get ahold of himself. And seeing as Quintus hadn't made a rude ass comment about him drooling all over the floor, he figured he was safe. Though he did bring up his arm to rub his mouth against the back of his wrist before he went back to work on their meal. And that was purely to buy him time to think about what had been asked. Because for a short period of time he'd forgotten that they'd been separated. That this wasn't a normal day for them. He's going to leave again. It was also then he'd really just started to realized just how much really had been through without each other.

Cesare cleared his throat, looking down at the two pizzas laying on the counter before him. A part of him wanted to blush at the accusation Quintus had thrown at him. Not really an accusation but still. It wasn't like he thought that he'd be standing face to face with this man ever again. Why should he be embarrassed with how he decided to survive without him? "I really don't think much has changed. A couple of new places have a mud patch or two." He told him in earnest. Because in all honesty, neither he nor Max really found a reason to change much of anything. Updated photos had been added throughout the house of both their families. A few patches here and there for a couple drunk shenanigans. One of them wasn't even really either of their faults. They'd take that truth to their graves. "My mom insisted that we get a cleaning service." He said without any thought to it, "Probably one of the only reasons it's still standing." He joked, laughing softly as he shifted the pizzas onto their own sheet and popped the pair in to heat up.

He turned around to see Quin sitting like on the counter like it was the most natural thing in the world. Cesare's heart swelled at the sight of it and it took everything in him not to sigh out in contentment at all of this. "Well," He trailed off, pushing off from his space and moved to stand just a few paces from Quintus. "Aside from me claiming one of the spare rooms. It's two doors down from yours." Not that he felt like he needed to clarify that location to him. But he had walked in on Cesare asleep on his childhood bed so perhaps it wasn't the worst idea. Cesare pulled his phone from his pocket and set a timer for the pizzas and it was then he'd realized that he didn't have a picture of Quin. Well, he did but none that were just his. He clicked his tongue twice and selected the camera app.

A smile dawned his face as Quin focused in the screen of his phone and Cesare even zoomed in slightly. You could make out the little wisps of hair gently touching his ears and those long lashes would brush his cheeks when he blinked. "Q?" He asked, quickly snapping a picture just as he looked over him. The flashed was quick and he was quite happy with the outcome of that. However, he was quick to grin triumphantly over at Quintus and pocketed his phone before the other could even think of moving from his position on the counter. "Just in case." He told him, moving to stand before him just then. "I might faint if you take off for that long again." There was truth in his words and he knew it hadn't been his fault but still. Cesare needed something of him now that he knew this him was possible.

He folded his arms together over his chest and deeply inhaled, loving the scent of their pizzas coming to a bubble in the oved. "And no." He glanced back at Quintus, smiling wickedly. "There isn't a shrine for you in there." His weight settled back against the counter and Cesare stretched into a more comfortable lean. "Don't need to when there's a tomb down the hall." He wasn't sure that was the best joke to be making given the circumstances. He cleared his throat and shuffled his weight uncomfortablly. "You keep asking what's changed but Max and I didn't leave." He tried not to sound confrontational but he couldn't help but want to know the same things that Quin did. Which was everything about him now. "You tell me something about you now. Something I wouldn't already know." He held his finger up, knowing damn well he'd still try and wriggle out. "Or something I could guess fairly easily." He knew he had to be specific or Quin would wiggle through the cracks like he'd always been so good at doing. "Tell me something about you now. We can make a game of it if you want to." Take the bait.

[goldenboywrites]

It was a test; Scorpius was sure of that. He liked that he threatened Andrew. Good. He should be. And all of this nonsense was the man trying to find ways to poke and prod at Scorpius’ composure. He had to give it to the Auror; he went straight for the throat. But the Malfoy had learned a lot about himself over the years he had been gone. The things people had used against him before, the big triggers, no longer held such a hold on him. 

He didn’t feel like he had to acknowledge Andrew’s invite again, so he didn’t. Scorpius would bet everything he had that he would see Albus around much more often despite what Andrew tried to pull. It had always been like that with them. The gravitational pull towards one another. The time they had spent apart and the addition of Albus’ boyfriend wouldn’t change that.

Pillow talk? About him? Scorpius’ brow arched lazily as he held Andrew’s gaze. “I’m not sure you’re doing it correctly if your pillow talk involves another man and his family,” He spoke softly, dragging the words out. Andrew would have to do better than to make Scorpius react. It wasn’t a surprise that Albus fucked his boyfriend. He could imagine it was lackluster compared to what Albus deserved.  It was funny that Andrew played it off that he knew Albus so well. Scorpius was to believe that Albus was excited about people coming to watch him play? Never in his life would he believe something like that, but he understood Andrew’s goal. He wanted Scorpius to believe they were the happy, perfect couple. It made him want to throttle Andrew for not seeing who he had in front of him. But was Scorpius any better? He had walked away from Albus. 

“I will see my mom while I am here,” he answered, his words clipped. “Once I get the store up and running.” Although Scorpius had made progress on his family issues, he didn’t enjoy mentioning them to a stranger. “It was an option.” Scorpius tightened his arms around his chest defensively. “I have no interest in inheriting Malfoy Manor or staying there. It didn’t suit me back then, and it doesn’t suit me now. I’m not afraid to work for the things I want. I prefer the challenge, if I’m being honest.” He hoped Andrew could read between the lines of his words. “Makes it that much more sweet when I win.” 

And there was it. Scorpius scoffed, shaking his head. What a child. Andrew was so much like James it made Scorpius’ stomach churn. How had Albus dealt with this for so long? “I’m where I want to be.” His voice was low and dangerous as Andrew stepped over a line Scorpius had drawn between them. “I’m with the family I chose, and I think the only one who knows what Albus needs is Albus. Assuming you know what he needs isn’t going to do you any favors.”

James was definitely right about this one. That didn't necessarily help his situation. What he'd been told about the Malfoy before had all been holding up until they'd met face to face. But the no big deal part that James and Lily kept trying to push as if he couldn't see it was bullshit the moment the the two of them and Teddy had walked in tonight. This wouldn't be the only conversation Andrew was going to have tonight, that much was at least sure from that point. The next was that there were going to have to be some rules set if this was how things were going to be.

Andrew smiled warmly, his tongue poking out to wet his lips before he'd begun to speak. His short fuse couldn't show tonight. Andrew was quite good on keeping a handle on it but it was clear to him that there was going to be a bit more poking coming from this one. He welcomed it. Mostly because he knew that Albus wasn't going anywhere. They were good for one another. And while he couldn't always appreciate everything there was to Albus, it was enough and it had been until this point. Until you saw them together. He shook his head slightly at the thought to banish to the hell it had come from. "They didn't tell me you'd be so close." He settled on. It was diplomatic and hid any kind of resent he may have held towards the notion. "But," He continued, smile still ever present. "the invitation is still extended. Maybe after the next game." His smile grew and he took a step towards Scorpius.

"My family will be in town for it. They like to come support him when they can get away." Andrew folded his arms against his chest and sighed, looking the heir over. "Albus really enjoys seeing them. Tell me something, Scorbsius," The tip of his tongue pressed to the back of his canine as his head cocked to the side and he truly took him in. "Are you here to visit yours too? I never got the chance to know them personally but I've read up and the little bit of pillow talk." His grin grew wicked for a moment and he pressed on, "How's your mum adjusting to you being back?" The question was loaded, mostly because he needed to see just how much of a problem he was going to be. "I guess I'm just surprised you've decided to pick something of Lily's when you've got all that space afforded to you for ... well, free really I suppose." His hands slid out for the coil and each snaked their way the length of his body and into his pockets. Andrew stood taller then and took another step towards the Malfoy heir.

"Just thought home might be where you'd really want to be and not out with them." His shoulders shrugged and sigh escaped his lips as he studied the man before him. "But I guess we've all got our reason, haven't we?" That knowing smile pulling into something not quite a smile but not a sneer either. "Albus certainly doesn't need another one if you're wondering."

[goldenboywrites]

Oliver tuned out Isaac and Cassio. He had to. He couldn’t focus on that situation when he had Theo before him and was almost ready to start the spell. His eyes scanned over everything one last time. The symbols he had drawn were correct; Isaac had muddled the paste into perfect condition. Oliver willed his hands to stop shaking. I can do this, he reminded himself. I have to do this. 

He dipped his fingers into the paste, drawing a circle on his forehead, then drew a line through it. He then reached for Theo, drawing the same symbol on his forehead. “Get behind me,” Oliver instructed them both. “Once I start chanting, the spell will start, and Theo’s mind will open up to me. Think about it like a pensieve, except I can see any memory he holds in his head instead of a specific one.” He turned to look between Isaac and Cassio. “But don’t touch me during the spell, no matter what, okay? If anything distracts me while I’m looking into his brain, I could damage it. I don’t know what will happen. I’ve never seen Orion perform this spell or what happens once I’m inside his mind, but even if I’m screaming in pain and begging you guys to pull me out, don’t. I can handle it.” 

Then Oliver only had eyes for Cassio—his brave, strong, wonderful boyfriend. A part of him didn’t want Cassio to be in the room, not when he didn’t know what the spell would do to him, but the more significant part needed the strength of his boyfriend’s presence. “Hey,” He spoke softly, puckering his lips and blowing the man a kiss. “It’ll be okay, Cass. I’ve got this.” 

“Okay,” He sighed, turning back to look at Theo. Oliver laced his fingers, bending them inwards and cracking his knuckles. When he opened his eyes, his mind was clear. He was ready. 

He started the spell; the Latin words fell from his lips softly. He repeated the phrase repeatedly as he slowly lowered his hands to press his fingertips against the sides of Theo’s head. The room grew warm as the spell started, and with a sharp air intake, Oliver’s head fell back, and his eyes went completely black. He found himself inside the boy’s mind. Memories, like film reels, circled him. He couldn’t see anything - not Isaac, Cassio, or even the room he had been in. Oliver studied the memories surrounding him and noticed quickly that they were blurry compared to others. He reached out and touched one and was transported into it. 

Theo was sitting in his bedroom, playing with his toys. He reaches for one, but his little arms can’t extend that far. He pushes himself harder but topples forward, smashing his face into another toy that comes to life. A song floods the room. Theo flinches and rolls to his feet, running into the closet and closing the door. He isn’t in the closet for more than a second before thumping footsteps approach, and the door slams open. Oliver flinches at the sound. A man is standing there, his eyes cold and evil. He’s looking around the room, searching. His eyes land on the closet, and Oliver’s heart races as he opens the door and drags Theo out by the back of his neck. 

Theo screams. 

Oliver screams. 

The next memory is the same. Oliver feels Theo’s fear as if it were his own, but he pushes through it, going from memory to memory. One constant in each of them: Theo ends up being hurt. Oliver ends up being hurt.

“Theo,” Oliver is pulled into a memory, unlike the others. This one feels safe. Theo is wrapped in his mother’s arms. He loves her completely. He just wishes they didn’t have to hurt all of the time. “I have to tell you a story.” He listens; stories are his favorite. This one is about a boy who grew up with two dads, and in this adventure, they were throwing a surprise party. Theo loves his mom, but sometimes he wishes to be the boy with two dads. They never hurt him. 

She’s planting memories in his head, Oliver recognizes. It hits him, and he knows what she did, how she protected Theo, how she gave him up. 

Oliver severs the tie between him and Theo’s mind. 

In the present, Oliver immediately wipes his face clear of the cooling tears. “I know what happened.” His voice is hoarse. Had he been screaming?  His body aches, and with a glance down, he knows why. Oliver was also injured in every memory he entered in which Theo was hurt. There are a handful of handprint bruises on his forearms; his cheek feels swollen, and the back of his neck is bruised. He turns to find Cassio, his breathing quickening and quickening until Oliver is grasping for air, but he can’t get anything in. He can’t inhale deep enough.

Oliver crawls towards Cassio, but his panic doesn’t stop until his arms are around his boyfriend’s waist. “Theo’s real dad is abusive.” He keeps one arm around Cassio and throws the other arm out so Isaac can see. “Insanely abusive. To Theo and Alexandra. I think it got to the point where she knew it would end up with them dead at his hands. Alexandra altered all of Theo’s memories to include you and Isaac. She would tell him stories about a little boy and his two dads. She was writing these memories in his head so he wouldn't be scared when she found an opportunity to get him away. He would know you guys, know us. Theo loved his mom, he loves her so much, but he was so fucking scared. He loved those stories. He wanted to be the boy in those stories. He…” Oliver closed his eyes as fresh tears slipped out. “He just wants a family. He wants to be loved. And she knew that. She didn’t think they could escape him, so she saved Theo. She sent him to the two people she knew would do everything possible to keep him safe, who would love him like she did.”

The abnormalities of this day were tipping the scales so far out of their favor it was truly becoming scary. Isaac was startled seeing both Oliver and Cassio emerge from the cellar with a vengeance. He leaned back over the sofa and watched the door waiting for Apollo to join. But when Cassio shut the door and muttered something, checking to make sure the door was held in place. Isaac felt his stomach drop entirely. What the fuck is going on? He went to stand and demand answers but he didn't. Mostly because Oliver was so damn close but still he needed answers and his patience was truly nonexistent.

"Wha' the fuck i' goin' o'?" He demanded in a louder tone than he'd intended. The poor boy across from him stirred and Isaac sat back in his seat, met with sympathetic looks from the pair. First to each other and then both to him. Cass moved quickly into the room, tucking his wand into the waistband of his pants. He could feel Isaac analyzing his every move and he knew it was about five seconds until he imploded. "Listen." He started off, not harsh but very matter of fact. There was no time for their bullshit, well meaning or otherwise. "I don't know what is going on with you two and now this little one." His arm flung back towards the sleeping child still curled into a heap as if nothing in this world could touch him.

"Apollo lost his damn mind and attacked Oliver." He could see the widening of Isaac's eyes and he pushed through before the other man could start to protest. "He did." He said almost with venom in his voice. He hated this. Hated that they'd left Apollo a heap on the ground of his own home. Hated that there was some kid just thrust into their lives. And even more, he hated that he was eye to eye with Isaac and telling him what was best. Cass had never let the fact that the other three were stronger and more masculine than he was intimidate him. In fact, he'd come to love how quiet and reserved he could be when it came to the group of them. It was easier to observe and move based on that. "I don't know what kind of magic this is but he tossed a knife at Oliver like he was a bloody muggle. And I made sure that they were both still alive." He could see the rage waring behind the other's eyes and he just didn't care. That was his best friend. He had done that. "He wouldn't stop about being touched and needing closeness. Whatever this is ... we have to get this spell done. He can't be like that around that kid."

The warnings his mother had always made sure to drive home for him were blaring in his ears at that moment. He wanted to curse and stomp his feet, fling himself on the ground and disappear completely. It was only in that moment that Isaac had experienced any shame about who and what he was since he'd left home. He deserved every morsel he felt too. He knew better. Had known better all along and still he let himself sink so low as to stake his claim on Apollo through his magic. Never again. Isaac simply nodded to Cassio. His stomach was completely in knots and judging by the look on Oliver's face, he'd been expecting more of a fight out of him. Out of both of them really. Cass was right, as painful as that was for Isaac to admit, there was nothing else to do but to get the child taken care of and he could only hope his magic would wear off Apollo before these two grew anymore tired of their bullshit.

Isaac moved his attention to Oliver, forcing the smallest of smiles onto his lips. "Wha' do ya nee' me ta do then?"

[goldenboywrites]

Quin huffed and pushed him off of the counter. Fuck Cesare and his generosity, his puppy dog eyes,  and his cooking skills. The fact that he could just whip up a pizza from scratch was the most horrible thing about him that Quin had ever come to know. He remembered when Max and Cesare first became friends and made mudpies in the backyard after it rained. The two of them, wet and muddy, would come in their creations and try to convince Quin and Max’s mom to serve them for dinner. There was one year when Max pushed Cesare, and the mudpie went flying, hitting Quin and coating him from head to toe. Quin fumed red with embarrassment and then cried for hours. 

It's wild how time changes everything. 

He hip-checked Cesare out of his way and stood before the pizza. “I like banana peppers,” He said casually, dipping his fingers into Cesare's jar and grabbing a handful. Quin took his time placing them around the pizza. Once he was satisfied, he turned to look at the various other pizza toppings Cesare had pulled. “Oh,” He said, tone thick with disappointment. “This won’t do.” Quin stepped around Cesare and went directly to the pantry. He rummaged through it until he pulled out an unopened jar of pineapple rings. Then he rummaged through drawers, pulling them open one by one until he found a can opener. 

After opening the can and draining the extra juice, Quin returned to Cesare. He pulled out the rings ring by ring, placing them on half of the pizza. When he was done, he sprinkled more cheese on his side and clapped his hands. A job well done. But he turned to look at the utter horror on Cesare’s face. Quin raised a brow challengingly and popped half of a pineapple ring into his mouth, chewing slowly. He swallowed the mouthful, then smirked. “Don’t start with me. Pineapple and its sweetened benefits are important to me.”

With his pizza completed, Quin left Cesare to handle the other one. He washed his hands and returned to the counter, pulling himself back up on top of it while he waited for Cesare to pop the pizzas in the oven. "What else is different in the house?" He asked, staring down at his knees. "I know my room has remained untouched except for you hanging out there. What about everything else?"

Max and he never fought. Their entire friendship they'd had disagreements but nothing like that phone call. And while they'd not been in a situation like this before, let's face it, who has? That wasn't something they did. It weighed on him as he put together the ingredients he grabbed up for dinner while they were out. It was far too early but he knew the next few days would be filled with a lot of turmoil and emotions and he was really damn determined to make sure that this first night home for Quintus was nice. He needed it to be. Maybe it wouldn't be enough to ask him to stay but maybe he'd consider it? His mind was going a million miles a minute and doing him no favors.

A loud clang sounded as Cesare pulled out a sheet pan and a large sauce pan from one of the lower cabinets. He offered an apologetic smile to Quintus still looking at him from where he'd perched. It was then that he'd realized all those years away, there moments like this they could have shared. It only hollowed his stomach more but still the warmth of the thought lingered and he as grateful for it. "I hope you're hungry because I know I'm starving." He told him, trying to ease the little tension that seemed to settle over the youngest of the two.

A few moments later and a few culinary feats, for Cesare anyway, he'd been able to produce a from scratch pizza crust and had the sauce simmering beautifully on the stove behind. Almost everything was ready except the cheese. "Want to split it down the middle?" He asked as he produced a grater and two different cheeses to be shredded. "I can't remember if you like banana peppers or not." He smiled, making short work of the first block of cheese and then promptly moving onto the next. The thought of not knowing whether or not Quin liked something starting to weigh on him. Maybe all that time away from each other had pushed them too far apart. Perhaps that was why things felt so charged between the two of them. But as Cesare gathered the cheese into a bowl and moved back to combine everything together he caught sight of him and he felt his heart swell and clench at the same time. That can't be for nothing.

Cesare moved quickly, taking the pan from the stove and spread the sauce all over the surface of the dough. It already looked so good. He was quick to duck his hand in to the cheese and shoved a handful into his mouth, little pieces spilling from his mouth and onto his shirt and the floor below. "Help me dress her up." He motioned Quintus over to him as he moved back and grabbed all the pizza toppings he could see in their refrigerator and pantry. He popped off the top to the banana peppers and quickly popped one into his mouth before he started to put a few on the end of the pizza closest to him.

[goldenboywrites]

“I hope you’re correct.” The thing was, Beckett did believe in his people. Throughout his entire life, he had been in awe of them. The position he was in, being King, wasn’t about power or wealth. It was about doing good things and being a good person. He had watched his father rule, and never once was it about what he wanted but what his people needed. He had been a beloved ruler, and Beckett had always wanted to be the same. While he wished his brother had the same selfishness, Beckett knew he didn’t. That, along with many other reasons, was why it was terrifying that he was on the throne. “I’m hoping it isn’t just pure dumb luck that I’ve gotten to this point.” 

He wasn’t downplaying his achievements thus far. Beck knew he had been wildly lucky to escape captivity and to remain anonymous so far through their journey, and while he longed to give his people hope, he couldn’t afford to lose this advantage. Not until he was ready to strike. 

And while he had been struggling with their journey, the addition of Grady brought a new fire to Beckett’s fight. The thought of the man at his side had Beckett turning his head, staring at the details of his face. He hadn’t known what sort of being he had stumbled upon back at the temple. Was Grady a god-like being? He didn’t seem familiar with the lands they were in, but he had discussed foreign lands, so maybe he was from somewhere else. A magical world? Beckett had just assumed he ate human food when he gave him the plate, but he was relieved that he appeared much more human than Beckett had expected. “I’m glad you like it. I wasn’t sure what you’re used to eating, but we can’t afford to be picky until we get to a more populated town.”

“I have to be,” Beckett assured, pursing his lips at the thought. “My brother is not a reasonable person, and right now, he’s blinded by his power. He’s forced us into this position by attacking me and stealing the throne. The time for compromise or working it out is over.” Beckett wrung his hands nervously. It was challenging to discuss defeating his brother. Beckett would never have chosen this, but what choice did he have now? “I don’t make this decision because he wronged me or my ego calls for revenge. I am making this decision because it is the best for my country and my people. They are not safe under his rule.” Beckett then leaned to the side, bumping his shoulder with Grady’s. “Don’t be modest. You are not, nor will you ever be, just a humble servant. You will lead me to victory, and when we reclaim the throne, I will make sure history knows your name.”

Oh he was right about that last little bit. Certainly they would be history and he couldn't say for sure which way that might end up for the man seated next to him. He picked at his plate some more, finally finding his appetite had taken hold and he ate a few more bits of the meat and bread on his own plate. It wasn't until then did he question whether or not he too would be included in that when it all was said and done. How could a person exist twice? Could they exist twice? Certainly he had no actual chance of running into himself here but it still begged a lot of questions.

"Your subjects are far smarter than your brother is giving them credit for or else you wouldn't even have this starting point." Grady had the notion to automatically believe that people were inherently good. Whether or not that would ever work out for him remained to be seen but thinking all people were evil at their core didn't sit right with him. And even in this time, seeing this king, erm ... former king? He wasn't entirely sure the nature of this man's title right then but he supposed it was something for him to dwell over later. Of which he most definitely would along with everything else that had happened thus far.

He'd made short work of the rest of his plate and even went as far as to clean his fingers thoroughly with his mouth. The man sighed happily and sat it down on the ground next to him. "Forgive me I think I underestimated how much I actually needed to eat." Grady drug his slightly damp fingers against his pants and gave his full attention to the king. How long had it been since he'd eaten? How many hours or years had he been spat through today? He had to push that thought aside because dealing with what was in front of him in that moment was all he could really do.

"Are you going to be okay with that?" He didn't mean for the question to seem as if he were questioning Beckett's capabilities. Clearly from the people he had with him, he was more than capable. And meant to be King of a country? It certainly put his mild stage fright and social anxiety to shame at its best. "I mean by whatever means necessary where it concerns your brother? I .. I don't have siblings or cousins I don't really understand that kind of relationship." Though he thought by where these two found themselves, there was little left of what was once there. "I just mean that's not an easy choice and I don't envy a man that has to make such a serious one." A small smile crept on his face and he let it show with little restraint. "But I suppose that's why you're the king and I but a humble servant." He bent as best he could at his waist and bowed to the man before him. And he wondered if that was a big enough gesture. Where the hell was this in manners 101?

[goldenboywrites]

The similarities between Scorpius and Andrew are evident. They have blonde hair, light-colored eyes, and a muscular build. Maybe it was because he was drunk, or perhaps it was just that Albus Potter had a type. Andrew was a near mirror image of the Malfoy heir. It made him laugh, the sound bubbling out of his throat before he could stop it. Albus had found a boyfriend who looked eerily similar to him because he couldn’t have Scorpius. And it…it was touching. Flattering, even. The confusing bit of Andrew was that, yes, he looked like Scorpius, but he had the personality most similar to Albus’ brother. Albus really was torturing himself—poor boy. 

When his drunken laughter stopped, Scorpius looked back to Andrew and saw the man sizing him up. When he spoke, Andrew was clearly attempting to intimidate him politely. Scorpius would follow up. They would never be friends or acquaintances, but Scorp would not cause trouble for Albus. He was sure he could needle his way under Andrew’s skin and piss him off first. As long as he strikes first, Scorpius would be in the clear. 

“Yes,” he answered, leaning back against the counter and crossing his arms over his chest. “Five years, but it feels like no time has passed between us.” He stared right ahead at Andrew. “Days, weeks, years, it doesn’t matter to us. We always fall right back into the same routine as we always had. I suppose that’s one of the benefits of such a long relationship.” 

It was cute how Andrew wanted to throw his relationship with Albus around. Scorpius’ return threatened him and what it meant regarding his relationship. Albus was out there wearing Scorpius’ jacket. He had tried his best to stick to Scorpius’ side except when he was physically pulled away. It had always been like that. They gravitated towards each other; they longed to be near each other. Like the planets and their moons, they would always find each other. “Right,” Scorpius said, tilting his head to the side. “Albus had mentioned how busy he was with Quidditch when we met before this little ‘welcome back’ party. But, hey,” He smirked, the Malfoy smirk, and clapped his hands together. “I’d love to pop over for some tea. I won’t be too far away. It's just a flight of stairs away, thanks to Lils. I’ve rented the shop beneath Albus’ apartment.”

This family was absolutely insane at most points in their best days. It often took getting used to. Especially when you were really only used to being around one of them at a time. But there were always good stories to pass around the office afterwards. He often wondered how the hell James made it out of that family as normal as he did. Not to say that Albus wasn't. Well, to an extent they were near similar but the younger Potter had more of a grasp on reality and feelings. It truly was a breath of fresh air when he thought about it. Albus had always been the one to make the papers and seemingly was the best behaved of all of them. He'd often wondered if that was to make up for the rest of them. Except when he has a bottle in his hand.

Andrew had stepped out of the stall, fingers dragging up his fly as he'd come face to face with Scorpius Malfoy. He'd never had the privlege like some of the others of attending Hogwarts and growing up in awe of this whole lot. No, thankfully he'd been allowed to study abroad and at the behest of his parents' choosing. However, the rumors had been true, all of them until this point. So why shouldn't he believe the rest of them? He briefly smiled at the acknowledgement and moved to the far sink to wash his hands as well.

"It is." He finally managed as the water covered his hands and he soaped up quickly. Over and over his hands slid against the other as he washed and turned the faucet off. He shook out his hands a few times over the basin before he moved to grab himself a paper towel to dry his hands too. The closeness then to Scorpius was a bit odd to him. Something told him that he wasn't liked by this man but he could hardly say why. "It's nice to see the missing piece finally slide into place." He mused, wiping his hands one last time before he tossed the towel into the garbage can near the door. "Welcome home." Though his tone was anything but kind as he spoke to the blond before him.

Andrew slid himself between Scorpius and the door just then. While he hadn't grown up with them and the rumors so far had been true, James took the time to fill him in on a few details that never left the sanctity of their bonds. How in Merlin's left eye that every happened he could never understand but it still stood to reason that it'd been true seeing the way those two acted with one another. Albus never looks at me like that. "I know you and Albus have some catching up to do. I'm sure you've missed each other over the what ... " He trailed off, tapping his finger to his chin. "Years? Was it? You went traveling, right?" He asked, already knowing the answer to that question. When he and Albus had met that man had been a husk of himself. It didn't take truly knowing him to see it. He'd been gutted and the reason was standing right before him.

"I suppose we'll have to invite you up for tea when we can make it out this way." Andrew forced a bigger smile and tucked his hands into his pockets then, puffing his chest out slightly. "He's so busy with quidditch and then my work schedule. Our priorities are always to ourselves first though." He gave a slight nod and bared an ever bigger grin. "I'm sure we'll become fast friends though. Promise to keep it down and all that jazz."

[goldenboywrites]

Everett had that gleam in his eye. Colter was being lovely and sexy and wanted them to leave the castle. It was everything he had ever wanted from the Prince. Colter would have never acted this way if August had been in the castle. August had forced him to live in a box, so scared of Colter wanting things, and Everett knew why. If Colter had let himself want more, he would have realized he had outgrown August. Everything he had become since Everett took over the position proved that. Colter was more himself these days than he ever used to be. 

And Everett loved him. 

He followed after Colter, nipping at the prince’s heels with ease. His bones tingled with the need to get out, explore, and play. Judging by the soft caresses, kisses, and looks Colter was shooting him, the prince had the same need. He had always ventured into town when he had lived at the castle before. August and Colter usually refused to come with him, but that never stopped Everett. He felt it was important to experience life outside of the castle. It would serve Colter well. How could he lead if he didn’t know what life was like outside castle walls? 

Everett turned to look at Colter, studying his expression for a moment. It was odd having him so invested in Colter’s training that he didn’t know who the trainer was, but it was possible that Colter, as the prince, had his private tutor. “Derrick trains in hand-to-hand combat, and Odel trains in swordsmanship. I see them both at least twice weekly to keep up my routine.” Everett had always bedded them numerous times before Colter became a full-time job for him. “I can ask them to train you if they want; both would jump at the chance to block some time out for you.” 

They had made their way out of the castle and to the stables without running into anyone. Everett entered the stables first to ensure no one else was present. “All clear,” He said, waving Colter inside with him. He went to two regular horses, taking their own would be too much of a tell, and started unhooking them. When the horses were in the middle of the stables, Everett set about putting their saddles on and confirming that everything looked good for their ride. He returned to Colter, looping his arm with the prince’s and guiding him towards the horses. “I feel like you’re taking me out on a date,” He said shyly, corning Colter against a pillar and kissing across his jaw to his lips. “Is that what this is all about?”

For a moment Colter had begun to think he'd messed up. Because in all honesty, he hadn't any intention of telling Everett where they were going. This whole ordeal was truly just flying by the seat of his pants. But it was going to work. It has to. But for the time being, the excitement of leaving the grounds was enough to buy him some time. Colter quickly cleaned himself up from the water and suds of the bath. He'd checked his own reflection in the looking glass before he'd come out to join Everett in the main rooms.

The prince wasn't quite ready to storm out and so he found himself moving to nibble on the plates Everett had brought up initially. A soft smile touched his lips seeing all the little bits and what nots he'd selected for the two of them. Mostly Colter's favorites. It was hard to be mad at a man that paid that close of attention to him. But, as he'd witnessed for himself earlier, there were always more sides to a person than perhaps they were willing to let show to anyone else. Even themselves. "I thoughts maybe we'd find a little tavern and see what happens from there." His plan as of that moment was just ply this one with enough alcohol and fun to make him willing to leave and go wherever the prince wanted. And while he would have done so if Colter just requested it, there was something he needed out of this. Plausible deniability. If he were a pawn then Everett could be too. They could use one another. Which seemed to be their game as of that moment.

Colter finished chewing his last bite of fresh fruit and moved to take a sip of wine from one of the goblets. It was only a moment and he was moving around to feel out Everett's outfit of choice. How he felt about this one wearing his clothing was still out for debate but he didn't hate it. Though the scent of Everett, just him was better than anything else. And the two of them together? Knowing he purposefully smelled like him? Well, it did things to him. And it was then that he remembered the other man that always smelled like him too. Colter scolded himself and bent in to kiss that man's lips so softly.

"There's a tavern that's a bit out of the way just west of the shire. It's always been a favorite of mine." He beamed at Everett, drawing his hand down between the other's legs and he gave a light squeeze to his package. A seal of his approval of the way he looked. "My staff won't be back until near supper and that includes the stable hands. If we hurry we can snag our own horses and head off." The prince slid his finger tips over the bulge and motioned for Everett to follow him out of his quarters.

"Tell me about your instructor." He spoke over his shoulder, motioning for Everett to hurry on up and join him. "I don't think I've gotten to work with him. Yet." He knew they had to seem as if they were acting totally natural until they got clear of the royal quarters. Colter wasn't truly worried though, August was looking out for him. Just like he always had.

[goldenboywrites]

“Would you be happy if you were in my situation?” He didn’t believe anyone could be happy to work for their soulmate, to devote their life to a stranger. Maybe it was that Iggy's entire life changed once the mark showed up. He had to spend hours studying royal protocols and be trained to be a suitable spouse for the prince. And this magic, the one thing about his identity that was his, would soon belong to the prince. People thought he should be over the moon about it. He would have shelter, wealth, and anything he wanted, but this life had been forced upon him, and he hadn’t chosen it. “If you were a child and were ripped away from your family to attend training because you’ll be given to a prince not only to work for him but to be everything to him? And you don’t have a say in the matter.”

As he sat next to the prince and listened to him, Iggy wasn’t sure how to feel. He didn’t want to give Julius a chance to sway him or even captivate him. He wanted to try and keep the prince at arm’s length for as long as he possibly could. But Julius was asking him questions; he was curious about his opinions; he was allowing Iggy to keep the secrets he had and did not press him. It was something Iggy hadn’t anticipated from a royal. 

He turned to look at the prince, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth and mulling over the question. “I came here thinking you would be a thoughtless royal puppet, selfish and pampered after growing in such luxury your entire life. I thought you would be drooling over the fact that you have a wizard under your thumb, but you don’t seem swayed by that type of power yet. I’ll admit I didn’t think you would be curious about our bond, nor would you ask me to share the details with you. I’ll be honest: I think many of my predetermined opinions about you may change as we get to know each other.” 

Iggy glanced away from the prince, studying the castle in the distance. “I can’t commit to any opinion on you until after the ceremony for our bond. Power changes people. That is a fact of life. You might seem sweet and caring now, but that doesn’t mean you won’t be corrupted later. You’re a prince now; soon, you’ll be King. That changes a person. You’ll be new to your rule and have an astronomical burden on your shoulders to impress your council and subjects. Only then will I be able to decide who you are. You can sit here and tell me beautiful things about yourself and what we will be, but I’m not looking for words, Julius. I’m only looking for actions that prove it.” 

A swarm of words came to crowd his mouth all at once. What was he to say to this man? Because if he were being honest with himself, he had no idea what any of this meant to him personally. He knew what it meant for the kingdom. And seemingly now, his father. But that didn't settle his mind about all of it. The feelings he had contradicted what he felt growing his chest and yet there was still a pull to grow and bloom into whatever was designed by the stars for it to be. But as those eyes found his own, the prince made his choice. And he made it for himself.

"I don't think you're very happy about this." He said rather plainly. Because that had been the truth of it, under the awkwardness and the feeling of wanting to run to him. The disgust of what he was now was plainly on his face. That was one thing he would have to thank his father for. To be a king, the ability to read to your subjects and advisors. Because you were meant to make life better for all. At least that's what he'd been told. Perhaps the practices he hadn't truly seen the other side of in person until now.

Julius shifted under the heat of the other's gaze and he felt his mouth go dry but still he went on because if there wasn't anything else he could give him, the truth was the least he could do. "I can feel how powerful you are by you just standing there and something tells me there is a lot about you and your magic that you don't want me to know." The prince licked his lips and found himself sighing softly, unable to fight the urge to lean in just ever so. He wasn't entirely sure just how honest he should have been but there was no taking back the things that he'd said. However, that wasn't all that he felt. But leaving a little space and quiet between felt necessary to drive home the point that he wasn't going to shy away just because whatever it was would prove difficult.

"I don't think it's fair to ask me to make a judgement on you when you've only shown me a handful of truths. My own have been on display for the public my whole life." Julius brought his hand up to Iggy's chest and slowly pushed the man to sit down beside him. While he understood what he had said about the sharing of the magic and his right to wield it as he saw fit, that wasn't something he wanted to discuss right then. Though in the back of his mind he knew his father and the rest of those blood suckers would be chomping at the bit for whatever information he recovered. "You've come with your own ideas about me, have you not?" He asked curiously, taking in a deep breath and feeling the clean air fill his lungs. That warmth was still there but he could feel himself start to gain back control of his thoughts and urges.

"Tell me some of them."

[goldenboywrites]

“Cassio,” Oliver said, looking at the blonde as if he were a stranger standing in front of him. He repeatedly replayed the last few seconds, trying to reason what had happened. Cassio had attacked Apollo. It felt like he was in an entirely different timeline. He turned his head, looking at Apollo’s crumbled form and then back to Cassio’s torn expression. It sunk in then the magnitude of what he had done. If Apollo had remembered this, he would have never forgiven Cassio. Because while there were a lot of things Oliver didn’t understand between the two men he loved endlessly, he did know one thing. They didn’t betray each other. “What did you do, Cassio?” 

He believed Cassio when he said they weren’t sleeping together. He knew Cassio well enough to know that if he didn’t want Oliver, he would leave him gracefully and then go after what he wanted. It had been a moment of weakness on Oliver’s part. Cassio wouldn’t have betrayed Apollo if he didn’t unconditionally love Oliver. And maybe, deep down under everything else, it had felt good that the blonde had chosen him. 

“I know you are,” He replied, turning his head into Cassio’s kiss. He has suspicions that there was a physical history between Apollo and Cassio that he hadn’t been made aware of, which answers quite a few questions regarding Isaac’s issues with Cassio. “And I trust you.” Oliver stepped away from the wall, walking towards Apollo with a frown. He felt terrible that it had come to this. Something had been wrong with Apollo; he threatened Oliver’s life but seemed to want closeness. He wasn’t quite sure all of that warranted being knocked out. 

He could see the war on Cassio’s face, the way he avoided looking at Apollo. Oliver wouldn’t push him, not with this. “Yeah, we should go,” He said, walking back towards Cassio and tangling their hands together. When they reached the bottom of the steps, he pulled out his wand, muttering accio chalk before two long pieces flew out of the desk drawer and into his hand.

They made their way upstairs and back into the living room. Oliver went directly to Isaac and knelt on his knees, drawing symbols on the floor. He worked silently, trying to ignore the tension in the room. Cassio would have to fill Isaac in on what happened. Oliver already had too much on his shoulders since he would perform the spell himself. The thought made his stomach hurt. He longed to call Orion to come and do it for him, but the truth was Oliver needed to do it. He needed to see it through to the end.

He could understand why Oliver had asked that. As he stood there with Apollo clung to him like his life depended on it, it was truly hard to deny. And it was really then that he understood why Isaac had such an issue with their time they spent together. His stomach couldn't decide whether it was going to throw up everything he'd ever consumed in his life or dropping into the pits of hell. The latter was preferable but still. Cass felt awful. At the end of all of this, it had truly tested every last one of his nerves. He was quick to shove Apollo off of him then and he took a giant step back from him. It hurt, not knowing what the hell was going on with him, but this couldn't continue.

Cass raised his wand again, seeing the hurt on Apollo's face and it twisted his heart in such a way that he could barely stand. "Простите меня." He told his best friend, fighting a tear from falling from his eyes as he flicked his wand and silently sent Apollo crashing back against the solid stone wall behind the three of them. The blonde exhaled hard, feeling his legs shake so badly that it sent him directly to his knees. His gaze lifted long enough to see that Apollo was in fact breathing before he gave all of his focus over to Oliver then.

"I'm so sorry." He said, reaching for the knife and he tugged and tugged unable to pull it out on his first try. "I don't know what the hell is wrong with him but we've got to get upstairs." He wanted to say to just get the hell out of their all together but he also knew that Oliver was too invested and he wasn't going to leave that little boy. It was then that the tear he'd been holding fell and he sighed shakily out, hands grasping the handle of the knife again and he squeezed tightly, pushing it weight back until a loud thump let him know that the metal had been freed. Cass stumbled back a step or two, holding the blade in his hand and he took in a deep breath looking down at it. What the fuck did Isaac do to him?

"We aren't." He finally said to Oliver, looking up from the blade finally. He sighed out, moving back into his space and his arms wrapped around Oliver so tightly. Cass' chest was heaving from the excitement of just feeling him again and that security he had always had in him. "I've only been yours basically since we met." He whispered, turning to kiss his cheek softly and he sighed, bringing the blade safely away from Oliver's body again. There wasn't anything to smile about but he felt like he should. Oliver always deserved all of his smiles and light. He deserved the very best which is why he could never figure out how the hell he'd ended up so damn lucky. "I don't know what's going on but it's scaring the shit out of me." He turned back briefly to make sure that Apollo hadn't up and moved, leaving them to wonder if it was truly their time to go.

"Still think a kid is worth this?" He joked, knowing damn well and all that it was not the time or place but he couldn't help it. "We need to go help Isaac with that and get to the bottom of this. He'll be okay for a little while I think." He didn't look again but he could feel the weight of the unconscious man behind him and he started to hate himself just a little more.

[goldenboywrites]

Marcus took the offered hand without a second thought. Almost as if it was natural to seek out Nikolai’s assistance. He didn’t think much about it as he straightened his clothing to look more presentable. Marcus didn’t bat an eyelash as Winston flew off in a huff. He found the tension between his owl and Nikolai amusing and something he would exploit in the future. Wait, he froze midthought. Nikolai was a professor; he was Marcus’ professor. They weren’t friends, they couldn’t be friends. It was hard to remind himself of that when he felt his palm slide against Nikolai’s or saw the crinkle in his eye after Marcus said something funny. Or when Marcus could feel Nikolai’s gaze and butterflies fluttered in his stomach. 

He was a professor. 

He was off limits. 

“Tea sounds good,” Marcus said before his brain could stop him. The rest of the students and his friends wouldn’t return to school until later. What was he supposed to do? Hang out in his dorm by himself? Nothing was going to happen if they got tea together. They’d probably just talk, and Marcus would show him around the castle some more, and then tomorrow, it would be like it never happened. 

Marcus hummed softly, thinking of his answer as they returned to the castle. While the weather was still nice outside, it was nice to be back in the magically controlled temperature of the castle. “I’d do anywhere if I’m being honest. I’m not picky. It doesn’t matter where I go; I know I’ll have new experiences and some adventure, but I would like to go to Australia, mainly to see the animals there. I wouldn’t mind going to Greenland to see the northern lights.” He let Nikolai guide them through the castle but was unsure if tea meant going to the kitchens or Nikolai’s private quarters. The idea of going up to his room made Marcus feel feverish so intensely that he grew nervous yet excited. “I feel like I’ve grown up in a box, and I just want to see everything else the world has to offer, you know?”

One of the only things he hadn't anticipated from today was to come face to face with a being he truly hated. And it wasn't that he hated this little owl in-particular still he couldn't help but bristle at the sight of him. He knew it was too late to recover his little mishap and so he opted for clearing his throat and lightly tapping the little being on his head once. "He seems lovely." He spoke softly, leaning back slightly to take him in better. And to give himself a bit of space as well. It truly was embarrassing and he'd cursed himself over and over as they sat.

"I don't think my cat would appreciate me coming home smelling like more animals." He mused, trying to play it off as if that were truly his only concern. "I'm going to have a hell of a time explaining why I smell like the water and yet have no fish or offering to bring for her." It was getting easier to hide that now. At least it felt like it was anyway. Nik smiled gently at the bird that seemed hell bent on touching him for whatever reason. Nik made a mental note to always be on the look out for the other students pets. Students. Student. His cheeks reddened and he cleared his throat, moving to pull his feet back onto the dock.

Nik was careful to keep his wet shoe clear of both himself and Marcus as he drew up to stand. His hands adjusted his pants and shirt back into place, hesitant to but he offered out his hand for Marcus and he pulled him up too. Winston wasn't a fan of the motion and sent a flurry of flaps at Nik to which he uttered the lowest of growls. His lips clamped tightly shut and he made to clear his throat as if he'd just had a cough. "I think some tea might be in order." He hadn't been the biggest fan of it himself but perhaps it'd be an activity to which they could ditch the damn bird. Not to mention, he was getting a bit hungry. Perhaps that was the reason for his few outbursts. Absolutely absurd. "I think my stomach is a bit jealous of the taffy we fed to our new friend." He smiled and nodded for him to follow as if he had any idea where he was going.

"If you could, where would you go?" If he wasn't going to give up his secrets then Nik supposed he could chomp at what he had been given. Granted he'd not get to know the rest of his students on this level, it felt right for this one. He couldn't explain it but still the conversation came easy, minus the stupid bird. What can it hurt? "And please don't say America." He rolled his eyes, hands shoving into his pockets as he led Marcus from the dock and back onto the well worn path.

[goldenboywrites]

Quintus didn’t pay much attention to the phone call between Max and his best friend. He was focused on the after jitters of almost kissing Cesare. He could not cross that line while he was back in town. He had to curve it no matter how badly he wanted to satisfy that craving. Quin was not in a position to be Cesare’s answer, and Cesare couldn’t be his. The almost relationship they had back when they were teens had to stay in the past. They had spent years apart between them, and neither of them was the same person they once knew. It was affection that drew them together now, nostalgia. That was it. 

What he could hear in the phone call went as he had expected. Maximus was upset that Quintus wasn’t precisely where he was supposed to be. Maximus was worried that Cesare was spending time with Quintus alone before he even got eyes on his little brother. It was another way for Max to control the situation control Quin. He would always see him as his little brother, not the adult he had returned as. That was something Quintus would have to put a stop to immediately. He couldn’t afford to have Max hovering over him while he was here. 

He was so lost in his worries that Quin hadn’t realized they were back at the house until Cesare stepped out of the car, offering to make him food. It was such a Cesare thing that Quin had to roll his eyes. He never second-guessed taking Quin to the store and buying all of Quin’s favorite foods, and now he would carry all of the bags in himself and cook something for him. It made Quin want to throw up because it made Cesare so much more attractive in his eyes. He was so careful with Quin, so attentive without being overbearing. He hated it. 

“Want me to cook you something?” He muttered mockingly as he exited the car without returning Cesare’s sunglasses. He glared at the man as he walked past Quin, scolding him for his mutterings. Of course, he heard it. Fuck him. His payback came in the form of taking his sweet ass time getting the door. Quin took small, slow baby steps, stopping to smell the flowers on his way in. He made Cesare wait there until he finally couldn’t stall any longer. Quin opened the front door, stepped into the house first, and held the door open for Cesare. He watched as the man made his way through the house and into the kitchen. 

With a sigh, Quin closed the door and followed him into the kitchen. Instead of unpacking the groceries, Quin grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and hopped onto the counter, stubbornly kicking his feet against the cabinet doors. He didn’t speak as Cesare moved through the kitchen with a practiced ease. It didn’t surprise Quin; this was Cesare and Max’s home, but it was so bizarre to see Cesare know his childhood home so intimately. It was a painful reminder that Quin was the stranger here, not Cesare or Max. And he didn’t know how to process that feeling. He wasn’t sure if he could.

The explosion on the other end as he pressed the phone to his ear was anticipated. As was the rambling and scolding and basic grabling of whatever words he was saying. It most certainly had to do with Quintus and how he wasn't at the house like he should have been. What Cesare hadnt' anticipated was how close he'd just come to kissing the man that had just disappeared into the car. And yet he wasn't upset that they hadn't. The thrill from it alone was worth the regret of not feeling it in that moment but he also didn't hate that it didn't happen. Mostly because he wasn't sure what was going on with Quintus. Or, what had gone on with him. He has to stay. In that moment Cesare made up his mind and he was going to do his very best to convince him to stay. He had to know how strong that spark was on the other side of that almost kiss.

"He's fine, Max." Cesare said plainly, finally having let him talk himself into circles. "I know you haven't seen ..." He sighed, kicking the asphalt beneath his shoes in frustration. "Well I just thought since we did, ... No!" He squinted, looking towards the car and only realizing then that Quintus did in fact have his glasses on his face. "Look." Cesare said kind of loudly, enough to make a few people close by look over at him. He smiled and walked quickly towards the car then, the magic of that almost fading with each step. "We are on our way back. He is fine." He smiled a bit angrily as he gripped the handle. "Well maybe you could have told me he was coming home. You're not the only one that missed ... " He was cut off and he'd realized he'd crossed a line a sentence too late.

Cesare sat in the driver's seat and pulled on his seat belt. He'd caught a glimpse of Quintus in his seat, glasses on his face and he had to admit he absolutely looked much better than him. "We're leaving the store now. I will have him back at the house and you can talk to him then. You're not his keeper, Max. Don't start pulling that shit." To which there was an immediate apology and a few more words later the phone call was disconnected and the keys found their way into the ignition, propelling the car to life once more.

"I'm damn glad we didn't get him anything." He told Quintus, looking over at him and he winked. It never felt good to fight with his best friend. In fact, he couldn't truly remember the last time they had but he'd be damned if Max was going to get the ass because Quin was back. They could all be cool and things might go back to normal. He hoped with a fierceness anyway.

Traffic was near nonexistent on the way back making for quick get away. Cesare looked at the dashboard clock and sighed. They had less than an hour and Max would be home to join them. Cesare shifted the gear down and then into park as they came gliding into the driveway with ease. He'd been stealing glances at Quintus the whole way home, more than enamored with their little run in in the parking lot. And the fact that he was wearing something of Cesare's couldn't be overlooked either. Granted they were merely sunglasses, he looked so damn good in them. Calm the fuck down.

"Want me to cook something up for you?" He asked plainly, sliding out of his own seat and quickly around the back of the car to retrieve their bounty in plastic bags. Cesare leaned in, grabbing a bag that had slid all the way forward. As he did so he felt Quintus get out of the car and he'd swore he muttered something to him. Cesare rolled his eyes and slid backwards, gathering the last of the bags into both hands as the younger man came back in to his view.

"Just because you were gone all that time doesn't mean I still won't kick your ass for talking under your breath at me." He teased, huffing out as he balanced and lifted one arm to slam the trunk down. "Now, go get the door for me, please." He batted his lashes at him and came round, heading for the door.

[goldenboywrites]

Quintus waved him off. “Please, we just spent hundreds of dollars on junk food. They’ll want us back.” He was nearly covered in bags, the cart overfilling with his body and their purchase. “And if they do, I’ll just throw my last name out.” He wouldn’t. Quintus never liked to use his name to get things he wanted, but it was always sitting in the back of his head that he could if he needed to. If it suited him. “Plus, you know they’ll be talking all day about us. We gave them entertainment to get through the rest of their shifts.” 

He handed off bags to Cesare from inside the cart until nothing was left in it but him. Cesare pushed him towards the corral. Then Quin was reaching out, snatching the tossed keys out of midair, looking down at him with slight disbelief. A place you missed. How could he when the only place he missed was being at Cesare’s side, and he was already there again? 

Strong hands pulled him from the cart, but Quin’s pants snagged on the cart's edge, sending him falling forward. He anticipated the inevitable fall, but his braced hands connected with a body instead when he reached out to, expecting to hit the ground. Quin barreled into Cesare’s chest. He would have ricochetted off of his body had the man not been holding him steady. A soft ummph escaped past his lips, and Quin looked up, inches away from Cesare’s face. “Thanks,” He said breathlessly, eyes darting from Cesare’s eyes to his mouth, then back up to his eyes. It was a moment that felt like forever, standing there in Cesare’s arms. He still hadn’t let go of Quin yet. Quin didn’t want him to. He let out a shaky breath, pushing up on his tiptoes. 

A ringing broke the moment. Quin leaned back on his heels and reached behind Cesare, tugging his cell phone out of his back pocket. He wasn’t surprised to see Max’s name on the screen or the stupid, goofy picture of the two of them as his contact photo. Quin turned the phone screen towards Cesare before looking at the screen again and declining his brother’s call. “Guess we’ll have to raincheck,” He said, leaning forward again to tuck Cesare’s cell phone back in his pocket. Quintus tossed the keys up for Cesare to catch and walked towards the passenger door. He pushed Cesare’s sunglasses down on his face and got back into the car when Cesare’s phone started ringing again.

It was never a secret that Quintus definetly had his own way of doing things. That had always been present and Cesare had always accepted that. It made things light and fun. And for the two of them, that was often how their time had been spent. Even when Max was around it was still good, maybe different but good nonetheless. But when he'd made the comment about not seeing these for years it stuck out to him. For what reason he couldn't exactly nail down but he still thought it odd. Wherever Quin had been sent wasn't anywhere with this chain of grocery store. It was possible. There were plenty of things on either coast and in between but he found it odd that there wasn't something similiar. Quintus, whether he liked to admit it or not, was a creature of habit when it came to things. And these cupcakes were definetly up there. He'd file that away for later. Perhaps Max would finally have some answers for himself and for Cesare after they got some time together.

"Hmm?" He quietly hummed, coming out of his thoughts and only to be meant with a vision of Quintus he wasn't sure what to do with. Cesare clicked his tongue, noticing the way his finger popped from between his lips before he started speaking again and found he couldn't look away. But that grin forced him to meet those eyes he'd looked into a thousand times before then. His heart was pounding harder than it had ever in his life. His brain was trying to convince him that he was going to have a heart attack if it kept up at that pace. But without hesitation, Cesare took the cupcake from him and licked a long, slow swipe from it's top. "Partners."

It was the better part of an hour later and he swore they had at least three employees tailing them as they checked out with what seemed like a million bags. Cesare wasn't graceful when he dumped the bags onto Quintus and paid as quickly as possible. "You know I'm never going to be allowed back in here, right?" He laughed as he pushed the messy cart and Quintus back into the parking lot. Things were starting to feel okay again. Cesare started to run in the mostly empty lot and stepped up onto the back, the cart rolling the both of them in some strange ass line in the general direction of their vehicle.

He was quick to pack the trunk up, leaving Quintus crumbled in the bottom of the cart still. Cesare put his hands on his hips and just looked at him. Of course he was soaking it in, how could he not. He sighed loudly and drew the keys out from the trunk as he slammed it shut, tossing the onto his chest as he pushed the cart towards it's corral. "Why don't you show me some place else you missed. The groceries will keep for a little while." He assured him, reaching in to help pull Quin out of the cart. Though they both could have used a lesson in inertia because as soon as he came up over the top of the rail, he was falling onto Cesare. To which he thankfully caught them both before their faces ate pavement. His face was only an inch or so away from Quin's and he fought the urge to press any closer. Feeling the other's breath on his lips sent a shiver down his spine and Cesare pulled them upright, straightening Quintus as he did so. "Guess I got a little ..." He blushed but didn't pull away. "Sound good to you?" He asked, grasping at what the fuck he was doing because Gods knew he didn't.