goldenboywrites

[goldenboywrites]

Seeing Colter in a better mood when he entered the room was a relief. The color was back in his cheeks, and he was more alive and talkative. Growing up in the castle, Everett had mainly heard rumors about Colter’s mood swings and fits but had never seen one in person. The workers around the castle loved to gossip; for most, it was their form of currency. He had always chalked it up to that. But after spending more time with Colter this past month, Everett wondered if there was more to those rumors, but Colter never lashed out, nor did he stay in those low moods. Everett couldn’t exactly put his finger on it. 

“I always want your company,” He replied quickly, truthfully. And then Colter’s hands were on him, kneading his muscles so intimately that Everett closed his eyes and leaned his head back. Colter was beautiful like this when he was open and vulnerable, giving in to his desires without shame. Everett had done that for him. He had given that to him. It was something August had never been able to give him. “Mm,” He turned to face the prince, cradling his jaw in the palm of his hand. “And you’re so good at it, my prince.”

He shimmed out of his shirt, letting it drop to the ground, and followed quickly after Colter towards the prince’s bath. He stumbled briefly, barely catching his footing as he imagined dueling with the prince in the training ring. He could only imagine how fierce Colter would look wielding a sword against him. How erotic it would be to fight against him in such a way. “Come with me then. I might even let you put me on my back. We’ll have to see.” 

When he approached the bath, Everett slid each leg out of his pants, kicking the article of clothing off to the side. He climbed into the tub, letting the warm water cover his body, but then he turned around, leaning halfway out of it and into Colter’s space. Everett rubbed the tips of their noses again, grinning at the man before him. “Come in here with me and find out.”

Everett left the King’s chambers with a pep in his step. It hadn’t gone horribly. It definitely could have gone worse. The King was still entertaining him, and Everett was still getting under his skin, so he counted that as a win. Now that he had gotten his meeting with the King out of the way, Everett had to return to care for his son. 

It was hard to ignore Colter’s behavior in the meeting. He was perplexed by it and couldn’t help but mull it over. There were times when he felt the prince slipping away from him. He had grown distant lately, yet they were back to normal within hours. Sometimes, Colter would stare off into the distance instead of listening to Everett speaking. The nights they had spent together had gone from every night to every couple of nights. Something was happening, but Everett couldn’t figure it out. 

He pushed the thoughts away, settling on feeling Colter out and seeing his mood when he got to his rooms. Instead, Everett went down to the kitchens, instructing the cooks about which food he wanted prepared for the prince. As they cooked, Everett snuck outside, dirtying his hands and then rubbing the dust and dirt on his face and arms to mimic what he typically looked like after training. By the time he made his way back inside, their food was prepared, and Everett grabbed it, waving off the servant who offered to carry it up to him. 

It didn’t take him long to reach Colter’s quarters. Opening the door and stepping inside, he overheard Colter mumbling to himself. Everett shook it off when he didn’t hear a second voice reply. Maybe he should have told the King that Colter was displaying odd mannerisms, but he didn’t want Colter removed from him. Everett was positive he could figure out what was happening with the prince. “Colter,” He called out, walking past the sitting area and into the main room. “I brought food for us,” He said, setting the platter on the table. Finally, he spied on the prince. Everett gave him a small smile, using the back of his hand to wipe the dirt from his forehead. “I’m going to wash before I eat. Would you like to join me?”

[goldenboywrites]

“I won’t be pushed aside,” Apollo continued, a sick twist of glee in his stomach when he noticed Oliver was backed into a corner with nowhere to go. “Or tossed aside like fucking trash, Oliver, and I see it happening. I know it’s happening, and if you weren’t here, it wouldn’t be like this.” But it had, and he could do it. Apollo would do it. He had been raised with a darkness inside of him that was always threatening to come out. It wasn’t the first time he would take a life, but it would be the first time it wouldn’t be as a result of him defending himself. “I know, I know it’s selfish of me to want both, but” He shrugged, “It’s what I want.” 

He reached behind, fingers cradled around the handle of the knife. He didn’t pull it out, not yet. As much as his mind was urging him to do it, get it over with, Apollo could not leave any room for a fuck up. “They’ll understand why I had to do this.” Because they both would, they always did. A part of Apollo was convinced they wanted him to do this. He was the only one strong enough to do this. 

And he felt so cold without their physical touches. His body craved them, needed them. Being so far away from them both made him feel like he was dying. Isaac and Cassio wouldn’t touch him until he did this for them. It was all of them. 

“Apollo, no,” Oliver replied, his chest heaving as he attempted to control his breathing. It was pretty delicious to see. He was like a little rabbit trapped by the big bad wolf.

At that moment, he saw Oliver’s gaze flicker over his shoulder and then just as quickly returned to him. Apollo’s eyes narrowed as he tracked the moment. He couldn’t hear anyone behind him, but that didn’t mean no one was there. He had a feeling that it was most likely Cassio. His background as a dancer made him light on his feet, and their work required both of them to be stealthy at times. But all the blonde saw was Oliver and Apollo having a conversation. He hadn’t brought out the almost murder weapon. Cassio was probably the only person who could successfully sneak up on him like this, but Oliver had given him away. 

“Cassio,” Apollo tsked the man but didn’t take his eyes off Oliver. The blonde would never hurt him. They didn’t do that to each other. Ever. He would rather keep his back to him than his intended target. He wanted the blonde to reach for him, to touch him, calm him down, and soothe him. His body wouldn’t feel right until he did. It felt like his world was falling apart at the seams, and the only thing anchoring him was them. “You’re not supposed to be down here.”

Cass felt himself edging more and more behind Oliver as the moments ticked by. Apollo was out of his mind and all he wanted to do was run. There was something seriously wrong with all of this. He could have accepted the kid and that mess on it's own but for Apollo to be using something so dear to them like that? He wasn't sure what the hell was going on but it had to get figured out and it had to get figured out now. He smiled down at the boy in his arms. Whatever was going on he just wanted to make sure that he got out of this. The more and more Cass thought about it, the more it seemed they were being punished for something. That was the only rational way he could figure this in his head. It had to be something he and Apollo had done.

Isaac gaze drifted from his work to the sight of their hands clasped together. He could feel the heat radiating through Apollo's palm and he looked at him then, concerned that he was looking so out of it still. Granted there had never really been a guideline for his magic but this seemed ... well, he was pretty pissed when all of that went down. He chewed on his lower lip for a moment and slowly pulled his hand free from Apollo's grasp. He even went as far as scoot his leg off of Apollo's in that instance. And then his gaze drifted towards Cass but his focus was not on the blond but rather who was in his arms. What was happening now was his fault, they could have already had a lead and Isaac took that from him.

"Cass an' I will wo'k o' our differences la'a." He spoke softly but matter of factly. Something told him from the look Cass was giving him in that moment that they would indeed be speaking later. That was fair. Isaac owed him a few apologies for the years of cold shoulder he'd often served to him. "Yeah ... later sounds good, Isaac." He bowed his head, more grateful than he could even express in that moment. "Why don' ya go get the chalk." He offered, turning back to look at Apollo. Isaac needed to explain a few things to these two if he could get a moment. "We already pu' this off fo' too lon'. Poo' Oliva will be loo'in all ova." Isaac gave him the biggest smile, whatever Orion had told him to do, Isaac was quite certain they could make work with Oliver and just themselves if it came down to it. What mattered now was that little boy in the arms of Cassio.

"Please my lo'e. We can' be wastin' mo' time." He realized how hypocritical that was but they had to get moving. Apollo had to just work through the magic in his system. It would stop .... eventually.

[goldenboywrites]

Marcus listened carefully to the professor’s words, taking them to heart and remembering the tiny details he felt were important enough to share. He had always found that his peers never took the time to remember things. Aside from his best friend, most of his friends had always felt hollow. Marcus hated it. He craved deep, meaningful relationships. It was the biggest reason Marcus couldn't stay with him, even though he thought he loved his ex, Declan. He never does anything halfway. Friendships, family, and love included. 

As Nikolai talked, Marcus tried to imagine him as the youngest boy in a family of seven children. If Nikolai was this attractive, Marcus couldn’t even imagine what his siblings looked like. “Seven siblings?” He repeated, his brows disappearing beneath his hair as they shot up his forehead. As an only child, I found it difficult to imagine. Marcus had received so much love and attention from his parents that he couldn’t imagine sharing that with six other children. “I wouldn’t have survived a family that big.” He leaned forward, nudging Nikolai’s shoulder with his own. “So, who is your favorite sibling and why? Then tell me who your least favorite is and,” He paused, holding up a finger to stop Nikolai from a rebuttal. “Don’t try and pull the whole ‘I don’t have favorites’ everyone does.” 

It was hard for him not to be jealous that Nikolai had the opportunity to travel and move away. “I’ve always wanted to travel,” Marcus replied offhandedly. “I’ve never been anywhere. Sometimes, it feels like I’m clawing out of a bubble, just suffocated from being in this country all the time.” He rolled his lip between his teeth before releasing it. “My dad is an Auror, so he travels a lot and rarely gets time off, so we never went on vacations or anywhere, really. It’s hard to remember that there is a whole world outside of this place sometimes because I’ve never experienced it. And it’s like, as wizards, we could go anywhere in the blink of an eye, but we just don’t?” 

“I won’t have to tell anyone,” Marcus said with a soft laugh. “Everyone will notice quickly. I don’t know how to tell you this, but you’re fresh meat; everyone will be eager to learn more about you. It doesn’t help that you’re the youngest professor I’ve ever seen grace these halls. Once all the students are here and settled in, I don’t think you’ll know a moment’s peace. They’re ruthless and relentless. You’re the new shiny toy this year.” Marcus brought his knees up to his chest, wrapping his arms around his legs and hugging them. “Just watch. Everyone will run to the Headmaster’s office to get into your class as soon as they see you. There will be a waitlist for the next semester. So enjoy the peace and the quiet now. Once term begins, it’s over for you.” 

Another secret? Marcus hid his smirk against his leg. The young professor was eager, but Marcus enjoyed it. It was so nice that someone was interested in learning about him. Declan had never been remotely invested in Marcus’ life outside of fucking him. “I can’t give all of my secrets away the first time we hang out,” He whispered, resting his head against his knees as he turned to look at Nikolai. “But there is someone I can introduce you to.” Without lifting his gaze from the professor, Marcus brought his fingers up to his lips, wrapping his mouth around his index finger and thumb; he let out a sharp whistle three times and then waited. 

Within moments, Marcus heard the familiar flap of wings, and in the blink of an eye, a tiny brown and white owl was perched on his shoulder. It had taken Marcus years to teach Winston the command, but with enough determination and a trunk load of treats, Marcus was successful. However, more often than not, Winston ignored his command. Marcus was convinced the owl did it for fun. “This is Winston,” He said, reaching up with his hand toward the owl. Winston moved to rub his head against Marcus’ fingers eagerly, cooing softly. “And he is the sweetest little boy up in the owlery.” The owl hopped onto Marcus’ other shoulder, inching closer to Nikolai. “Go ahead, he wants you to say hello.”

Marcus had spent a lot of time out of here by the lake. There was something about the crisp air and the soothing sound of water that always calmed him down. It was almost like it felt when he was flying out on the pitch, it was nice to have someone to share this place with. When he was in Declan, they couldn’t be seen together; they were all hiding corners and whispering conversations. They hadn’t spent much time talking, so he wasn’t surprised when he finally decided to walk away. It did make the summer much harder, going through everything he had alone, but it wasn’t like Declan would have been able to be there for him. He wouldn’t have wanted Marcus to write to him. 

“She’s outlasted most of the professors here and headmasters,” Marcus said, watching as she slapped the water with a tentacle, the ripple she sent covering Professor Korolenko’s shoe with water. “There’s a bunch of rumors about how she came here. Some say Newt Scamander rescued her from poachers and released her in the lake. There was a rumor that she is Godric Gryffindor’s animagus form. However, she came to be here, and I wish they would bring her a partner.” Marcus shrugged, tossing his last piece of candy out to her. She was closer to them now, impatiently waiting for more treats. After she ate the last bit of candy, she reached a tentacle out and nudged Marcus’ shoe. The kiss of thanks. “I can’t imagine how lonely she must be in the lake, alone with no one to share it.” 

“I know it shouldn’t change things,” Marcus admitted after a few moments of silence after the professor spoke. “I’m trying to hold onto who I am and was raised to be. But,” He sighed, turning to look down at his hands in his lap. “I love my parents, and I’m happy they got me. If they hadn’t, I wouldn’t be me.” Marcus sniffed, the emotion bubbling up in his throat. “But it does change some things. It just brings up a lot of ‘what ifs,’ you know? What if my biological parents had raised me? Why wasn’t I enough for them? Would I still be me if they had raised them? Will I ever get to meet them? I shouldn’t want to because they gave me up, but I do.” 

It was the curse of being Marcus Coventry, word vomit, and no understanding of boundaries because he was an open book. If something bothered him, he would grab the first stranger to vent. It was easy to forget that the man sitting next to him was a professor, his professor. “I appreciate it though, what you said, but enough about my issues. We’d be here for days. I think it’s time you tell me something about you since I already shared my favorite spot and deep, dark secret with you.”

[goldenboywrites]

Twisting his body to look at the prince, Iggy looked at him with narrowed eyes. “My apologies, prince.” He flicked his gaze up and down the man’s body, pursing his lips. “I was under the impression we were having a friendly chat.” He had to admit that he liked irritating the prince in such a way. It was a thrill to address a royal with snark and bite and not be immediately thrown into a cell. Of course, that was still a real possibility, but because of their mark, Iggy had more leeway than most others. If he were locked in a cell, there is no doubt that the prince would be forced to suffer alongside him. 

Oh yes, Iggy would delight in finding all the ways he could skirt by without punishment because of what he was to the prince. Victor would be ever so proud. 

But he knew when he could throw someone a bone, so Iggy walked the few steps towards Julius, closing the distance between them. His expression softened as he peered at the man before him. “My magic is me. To know me is to know it. It’s no different than blood when you think about it. It fuels me; it grows with me and adapts to situations depending on my needs. After we are bonded fully, it’ll belong to you just as much as it does to me. Knowing that used to irk me. I’m an only child, so I’ve never been good at sharing, but I’ve grown to accept my purpose. It helps a little,” He paused, smiling shyly at the prince. “To see that you’re fairly decent looking, I suppose.”

“So what’s the verdict, my prince?” Iggy bent down, his hand coming into contact with the fountain as he hovered over Julius, his gaze dipping from his eyes to his lips and then back to his eyes again, where he held the contact. “I’ve told you about our future. I even showed you a little magic trick. Without anything else in the balance, how would you judge me?” At their closeness, Iggy felt the bond between them hum happily. It was as if their string of fate was pulsing with pride that the two of them had come together. Despite the warmth that washed over him, Ignatius had to remind himself that it wasn’t his feelings. He didn’t know the prince sitting before him. He didn’t trust him. It was a cruel twist of fate forcing them to be together, to want to be together. Oh, but it felt so sweet to be close to him. Mere inches were separating them. He could press their lips together if Iggy bent down an inch more. “I’d love to hear your assessment.”

It wasn't until that moment that Julius truly felt the bite of this man's words. He didn't make a comment on it but quietly tucked that away to mull over later on his own. For now he needed to be diplomatic because there was still a lot he needed to learn from his man. And if he was to be honest, he truly wasn't in a position to be arguing or insisting that this man was wrong. So while it tore at him not to correct him with his own beliefs, Julius simply nodded to keep the peace for the time they had. After all, a little challenge never hurt anyone. He couldn't help but to smile instead. Knowing that he'd had his work cut out for him in more ways than one. But the weight of what he said truly started to sink in and he felt his stomach start to go with it.

"I didn't want to come here and fight with you about what everyone else has done." His tone was smooth but firm. He meant to learn from this man and he wanted the same for him. He hoped it could be that way. As he'd just told him, they'd be spending their lives together and Julius didn't want it to be terrible. If it didn't have to be. But he was starting to see a little sliver of what was so dear to Iggy and naturally he'd have been upset. Magic was a precious thing in this world and especially those that wielded it. Julius didn't pretend to know how or why the deal was struck between their people but they were products of centuries of choices. That didn't mean they had to always follow their ancestors lead.

"I wanted to get to know you not your magic." He spoke plainly, his gaze shifting back to take him in. The way he stood so tall as if he were the king of the realm. The swagger he had was something the prince could definitely appreciate. And he had to admit, it helped to know that this one actually had a sense of humor. He wouldn't be like his friends here at court or even his advisors. Julius was growing more and more excited about the thought of spending time alone with him. Getting to know all the ins and outs and he liked to see the way those lips curled up when he smiled, even if these ones were forced. He'd imagine the real ones were truly breathtaking. Getting ahead of ourselves, aren't we? Julius felt his cheeks heat again and he cleared his throat, stretching his legs out before him as he settled in. "I'm asking questions because I'm not sure we've ever been told the truth of the mark or anything and quite frankly..." He trailed off, his shoulders shrugging as he sighed out. The smile threatening to pull out again. "I wanted to make my own judgement on you without anything else in the balance." But as he spoke he knew what else was coming for him then. "You're my guest now and I hope you to be my friend before anything else after." He knew he should have called him exactly what he was but that word was too heavy and it made the feelings inside of him stir something fierce.

[goldenboywrites]

Everett left the King’s chambers with a pep in his step. It hadn’t gone horribly. It definitely could have gone worse. The King was still entertaining him, and Everett was still getting under his skin, so he counted that as a win. Now that he had gotten his meeting with the King out of the way, Everett had to return to care for his son. 

It was hard to ignore Colter’s behavior in the meeting. He was perplexed by it and couldn’t help but mull it over. There were times when he felt the prince slipping away from him. He had grown distant lately, yet they were back to normal within hours. Sometimes, Colter would stare off into the distance instead of listening to Everett speaking. The nights they had spent together had gone from every night to every couple of nights. Something was happening, but Everett couldn’t figure it out. 

He pushed the thoughts away, settling on feeling Colter out and seeing his mood when he got to his rooms. Instead, Everett went down to the kitchens, instructing the cooks about which food he wanted prepared for the prince. As they cooked, Everett snuck outside, dirtying his hands and then rubbing the dust and dirt on his face and arms to mimic what he typically looked like after training. By the time he made his way back inside, their food was prepared, and Everett grabbed it, waving off the servant who offered to carry it up to him. 

It didn’t take him long to reach Colter’s quarters. Opening the door and stepping inside, he overheard Colter mumbling to himself. Everett shook it off when he didn’t hear a second voice reply. Maybe he should have told the King that Colter was displaying odd mannerisms, but he didn’t want Colter removed from him. Everett was positive he could figure out what was happening with the prince. “Colter,” He called out, walking past the sitting area and into the main room. “I brought food for us,” He said, setting the platter on the table. Finally, he spied on the prince. Everett gave him a small smile, using the back of his hand to wipe the dirt from his forehead. “I’m going to wash before I eat. Would you like to join me?”

Stars were starting to fill his sight and he knew it was only a matter of time before he landed flat on his face. But he quieted himself, focusing solely on his breathing as August had told him to do. Colter's eyes fluttered shut and he thought of the man before him. He thought of warm sheets and lukewarm coffee, quiet readings of poems he'd found in the library that day and musings from their meetings or teachings. Colter pressed his palms into the floor and felt the coolness of the stones radiating up through his skin and into his bones. He just had to center himself and pull it back in. The only trouble was knowing when Everett would be back. And while he'd been used to things on his terms, he had to listen to August just as he had before.

It was another few moments and breathing until he felt like his head was so light it may have just floated away from them. But it was the best feeling he'd had in the weeks August had been gone. Sleeping in his bed and touching his belongings had sustained him thus far but it wasn't something he could keep up. Regardless of what his father thought, August was the sole reason Colter hadn't completely lost his way. He was right, what had been going on didn't show that and the longer he continued to allow it to happen the worse off he would be and the hard it would be to get August back. That was his rational and it was what was going to get him through the rest of the day. He'd already seemed off to Everett so perhaps he could use that to his advantage.

"When I'm king it will be because of you." He spoke softly, smiling softly at the face he'd come to love so fiercely it could have been criminal. But what he said was incredibly true. Now that Colter wasn't smitten with the idea of having a person wholly submit to him, not that he'd ever been completely on board with only that, but he realized he needed to keep his head about him. Whatever he'd gotten himself into he'd have to deal with to the best of his abilities. He pushed himself up from the floor and wiped away any evidence or tears from his face.

"I mean it. There isn't another person that believes in me like you do." It hurt him deeply to say that. Colter walked slowly over to the water basin left out and splashed his face a few times. "I don't deserve you, August. I never have."

[goldenboywrites]

It hurt to have Isaac pull away from him in such a way. Apollo’s eyes widened, and the hurt he was feeling showed through. He didn’t care that the emotion was showing on his face. He let Isaac see it. The hurt, the vulnerability, and the shock of the move. His boyfriend continued to pull away until there was no part of them touching, and Apollo, who desperately craved the contact, felt his heart rip in two. Isaac didn’t want him, and Cassio didn’t want him. He felt the panic start to bloom in his chest, and he whimpered, a tiny, pathetic sound from his mouth. “I see,” He said, voice shaky. Apollo pulled himself up, refusing to look at Isaac and Cassio, their rejection too much to handle. 

And Oliver, of course, it was about Oliver. They were concerned for him, worried about him. They wouldn’t be with him because of Oliver. He felt his lower lip tremble, and Apollo bit it, stilling its movement. Did they want Oliver instead of him? Is that what it was? He had been in the kitchen with Isaac for a long time. Maybe they were all in on it, a way to get rid of him because they didn’t want him. When he looked up, Cassio wouldn’t meet his eyes. Then he looked to Isaac, waiting for him to see him and for him to want him, but there was nothing—absolutely nothing there except for awkwardness and tension. 

Well, if it was Oliver they wanted, Apollo would make sure that never happened. 

“I’ll take care of Oliver,” He said to the room, his tone low. The decision was already made. “Don’t worry.” 

Apollo couldn’t bear to look at them as he turned and left the living room. He stopped for a moment in the kitchen, flicking his hand out, and in seconds, one of their kitchen knives was in his hand. Apollo tucked it into his pants and went down the basement stairs. When he came upon Oliver, the man was walking towards Apollo’s workstation, his sticky fingers shifting through the paperwork on top. “Looking for something?” He asked softly, stepping out from the shadows. He wasn’t worried about Oliver finding anything down here. Apollo was meticulous about keeping his work out of the house. “Those papers don’t look like a vase to me.” 

“H-Hey,” Oliver said, jumping back at the shock of hearing Apollo’s voice. He turned, looking at the man, gaze searching his expression for…something. “You don’t look so good. I can do the spell if you wanna go lay down.” Apollo took a step forward, and Oliver took two back. The smaller man ran into the corner of Apollo’s workstation, knocking over a glass that shattered when it hit the ground. “I know this is a lot, Apollo. It’s okay if you’re tired.” 

“No,” He said, shaking his head. “I’m not tired from this. I’m tired of you. You’re keeping them from me.”

Cass felt himself edging more and more behind Oliver as the moments ticked by. Apollo was out of his mind and all he wanted to do was run. There was something seriously wrong with all of this. He could have accepted the kid and that mess on it's own but for Apollo to be using something so dear to them like that? He wasn't sure what the hell was going on but it had to get figured out and it had to get figured out now. He smiled down at the boy in his arms. Whatever was going on he just wanted to make sure that he got out of this. The more and more Cass thought about it, the more it seemed they were being punished for something. That was the only rational way he could figure this in his head. It had to be something he and Apollo had done.

Isaac gaze drifted from his work to the sight of their hands clasped together. He could feel the heat radiating through Apollo's palm and he looked at him then, concerned that he was looking so out of it still. Granted there had never really been a guideline for his magic but this seemed ... well, he was pretty pissed when all of that went down. He chewed on his lower lip for a moment and slowly pulled his hand free from Apollo's grasp. He even went as far as scoot his leg off of Apollo's in that instance. And then his gaze drifted towards Cass but his focus was not on the blond but rather who was in his arms. What was happening now was his fault, they could have already had a lead and Isaac took that from him.

"Cass an' I will wo'k o' our differences la'a." He spoke softly but matter of factly. Something told him from the look Cass was giving him in that moment that they would indeed be speaking later. That was fair. Isaac owed him a few apologies for the years of cold shoulder he'd often served to him. "Yeah ... later sounds good, Isaac." He bowed his head, more grateful than he could even express in that moment. "Why don' ya go get the chalk." He offered, turning back to look at Apollo. Isaac needed to explain a few things to these two if he could get a moment. "We already pu' this off fo' too lon'. Poo' Oliva will be loo'in all ova." Isaac gave him the biggest smile, whatever Orion had told him to do, Isaac was quite certain they could make work with Oliver and just themselves if it came down to it. What mattered now was that little boy in the arms of Cassio.

"Please my lo'e. We can' be wastin' mo' time." He realized how hypocritical that was but they had to get moving. Apollo had to just work through the magic in his system. It would stop .... eventually.

[goldenboywrites]

Quin scrunched his nose at the question, feeling the air around them shift. It was easy to deduct what kind of information Cesare wanted from him. He wants to know if you have somebody back home; his mind is supplied for him. And what a question it was because why would Cesare be interested in that unless he felt something for Quin that was beyond friendship? It was the line they had toed for years in school together. It was the classic will they, won’t they that never seemed to go anywhere. Quin had been waiting for it, especially after spending that one summer entirely with Cesare. But his brother’s friend had never crossed that line with him. Quin had assumed it was because he didn’t feel the same way or didn’t want to betray Max. 

Were things different now? Quin wasn’t sure. Or was Cesare appealing to Quin by being sweet to him to get him to stay? He had always suspected that Cesare knew about his crush on him all those years ago. Quin had not known the art of subtleness back then. Max knew that as well, and that was one man who could never get his stupid mouth shut. 

Quin could tell the truth that there was nobody back at school. He could take a chance on all the feelings he had put to rest years ago. Now, with his uncle out of the picture, nothing would stop them. But that also wasn’t exactly true. There was so much about Quin’s past and present that Cesare didn’t know. There were things he had done and would have to do that he didn’t want to involve his brother or Cesare with. If he told Cesare that someone was waiting for him, Cesare was an honorable man. If Quin told him he had someone waiting for him, he would painfully respect that. He could hurt Cesare now and say he was seeing someone. He could hurt Cesare later when he left. Either way, no one would win. 

He leaned towards Cesare, swiped the sunglasses off his face, and placed them on his own. In the end, Quin went for classic deflection. “Social media, huh?” Quin said, flipping down the passenger mirror and messing with his hair as he looked at himself in Cesare’s sunglasses. He flipped it back up and leaned back in his seat, looking straight ahead and refusing to shift his gaze to Cesare’s arms again. This was the last time he would get in a fucking car with the man, at least without his brother being present. It was too much for Quin’s gay heart to handle. “I never thought you’d turn out to be so basic,” He commented, biting back his smirk. Per his uncle's directive, Quin couldn’t have a phone at school. He had missed the bloom of social media, and now that he had his phone back, he didn’t find it all that appealing. The idea of strangers seeing his life and people being able to track him down didn’t sit well with him. 

They turned into the store, and Cesare parked the car quickly. As soon as Quin could get out of the car, he did. It would be hard to fight the invisible string tugging him towards Cesare while he was back home, but Quin had to try. The first step would be to keep any time spent together with Max, too. Just the three of them, never the two of them.  After this shopping trip, of course. Cesare made his brain fuzzy and distracted him, and if he kept it up, he would convince Quin to stay. He walked into the store ahead of Cesare, and once he was past the doors, Quin pushed Cesare’s sunglasses up to the top of his head. 

They had done this a thousand times before: late-night trips to the store when either one hankered for a snack. Cesare would push the cart, and Quin would sit in it so he could make him around the store. He sighed as Cesare paused right before the produce section. Quin had a feeling he was remembering it all too well. They should have grown out of this, but boys will be boys and sometimes never change. With a huff, Quin hopped inside the cart; his body angled awkwardly because he was far too old for this, and his feet dangled dangerously outside the cart. “Come on,” He said impatiently. “I want to see if they still make those cupcakes I like.”

He had to admit he had missed listening to him go on and on and on about absolutely nothing and everything at the same time. And when he'd gotten on those little tangents was when he'd enjoyed it the most. Max had always told him to knock it off and even their uncle would cut him off prematurely. Cesare had never thought either was right but that was why he and Quin had enjoyed their time together because it was just different for them. What stayed the same was the way Cesare smiled the more Quin spoke. And he knew he was in trouble right then and there. What was he going to do if he just left again?

"Actually I still wouldn't feel bad." He answered honestly, looking over at him for a moment before he'd moved his foot to the break for the upcoming red light. "If they can't figure out how to make money without you there then what kind of captain are you?" He challenged playfully, his shoulders resting back against his seat as they came to a stop and he could properly look at him. Though the sunglasses made his features darker, Cesare was happy that he could actually have a better look at him. Everything seemed to be so much sharper. Like Quintus had come out a diamond from whatever the hell had gone on while he'd been away. Did it have to make him so damn hot?

"And if anything that just proves my point all the more." His hand gripped the shifter, downshifting as the engine revved and he adjusted down a gear while they waited for the light to change. "I can defiantly help with campaigning for the little squirt. I just happen to be dabbling in social media managing with the new expansion at work." He smiled coyly, running the tip of his tongue against the back of his teeth. "Make a pet project and you could be an advisor." He teased, his foot moving off the break as he shifted, pressing down on the gas and the two were off again.

He knew better than to keep pushing him to stay but it didn't hurt to let him know he'd really like him to. Well, at least hint at it. How was he supposed to tell his best friend's younger brother that he was ... had ... still ... That he thought there might have been something there between them before and that there still could be. Cesare had felt it from the moment he laid eyes on him again. He'd always sort of known but Quin had been so young, they both were really. But they'd had a few more years under their belts. Life experiences and time to grow away from another and yet he could feel it plan as day. The way he'd felt for him the last time they'd laid eyes on each other and even well after.

"Who else are you so eager to get back to, hmm?" It was an innocent enough question and would put to ease about a thousand of his own. It was selfish. Fuck yes it was so selfish to pry into him like that but he just couldn't help himself. Any little bit of information he could have he'd take, even if the answer wasn't exactly what he wanted to hear.

[goldenboywrites]

Apollo gripped the glass that Isaac handed off to him. His gaze flickered over to his boyfriend, a warmth spreading through his body at the sight of him. He felt Isaac’s fingertips brush the sensitive skin of his wrist, and Apollo bit his lower lip, holding back a moan at the contact. It was challenging to be in that room with the two of them. His attention was split between the two of them. Cassio is on the far side of the living room with Theodore and Isaac bent in front of him, shifting the ingredients across the floor. 

He tossed the drink back; the liquor burn had nothing on the fever running through his body. His gaze kept shifting between the two of them. He couldn’t help but think about the three of them together. How sweet it would be, how enjoyable it would be. An old flame and his current flame. If he could somehow convince the two of them to try it…Apollo could have both of them. 

He slid down next to Isaac, his hand automatically finding his boyfriend’s lower back and his fingers dipping beneath the fabric of his shirt to touch his skin. “Hey,” He whispered, catching Isaac’s attention. “I missed you.” He leaned forward, kissing Isaac’s jaw. At the same time, Isaac snarled at Oliver to stay away. Apollo’s gaze snapped to Oliver, eyes narrowed because really? Why was he here? His presence was ruining everything Apollo wanted to accomplish. “Actually, Oliver,” Apollo tilted his head towards the man, giving him a sweet smile. “I need some chalk to draw out the spell, but I think it’s in the basement. Can you be a doll and fetch it for me? Down the stairs to the right. Should be inside a small vase.” That’ll solve that. Apollo couldn’t remember where precisely that portkey led to, but Oliver was resourceful. He’d figure it out. 

Apollo turned back to Isaac, his gaze catching on the man’s hands as he worked on the herbs. Something about his boyfriend’s long, delicate fingers made Apollo want. He had always been infatuated with watching Isaac make his candies and treats. He had such a sense of care for everything he touched, Apollo included.  He briefly wondered if Isaac would handle Cassio with the same care. He was minutes away from getting rid of Oliver. Then, it would be his boys and Theodore. Thankfully, the little boy would be out for hours because of the sleeping draught Apollo had given him. They could probably get in a couple of rounds together and still have time to complete the spell. But how could he get them to agree? “Baby,” Apollo whispered, keeping his voice low. He traced his finger up Isaac’s spine to the base of his neck. With his other hand, he reached forward, stopping Isaac’s swift work on the herbs, and laced their fingers together. Just sliding their palms together made Apollo’s mouth water. His pupils were blown, his face flushed. “Before we do this, can we take a few minutes to work all of this out with Cassio? Please?”

Oliver's timing had always been impeccable and Cass knew that to his core. In that moment he'd never been so happy to know that that man would be his saving grace time and time again. He wished he could have pulled him in right then but he knew they had to get this done. Whatever the fuck was going on with Apollo had to get resolved and he just wanted to get this over with. He smiled and leaned in to Oliver, savoring his warmth and strength. "Thank you." He whispered in his ear as he adjusted the boy against his body. Cass made sure to kiss him sweetly before he moved to stand behind him. He could handle his shit but Cass okay to take a step back and let Oliver lead this time.

"We probably should get started." He said, feeling Theo squirming a bit more as he tried to settle him again. "I think this little one is getting bored of his nap." To which the little one hummed softly and finally settled with his forehead tucked into Cass' neck and he finally felt himself settle. He hadn't dared to look at Isaac until then but they did and it was an odd sensation as the two stood there looking at one another. Cass should have given him a piece of his mind about all of this bullshit but given that there was more than just their bullshit. "Isaac, you're probably the best to brew everything with Apollo." He felt strange addressing him directly but they were adults and he'd had enough.

He'd been debating exactly what to do with all of them in that room. Apollo's scent was so heavy he could have swam in it. Even as he drew breath it felt like electricity was flooding his essence and Isaac wished he'd kept his feelings to himself. "We ca' do tha'." He nodded to Cass and Oliver, motioning for the second of them to join him. He sighed, moving to press the glass into Apollo's hand and was quick to start breaking down the ingredients they'd gathered. "Apollo, wha'eva Ori'n told ya please start i'." He was quick to hold up his hand to Oliver before he got too close to either him or Apollo. "Don' ge' too close." He cautioned, not really sure how much he was willing to divulge about himself to Oliver just then. He'd had an inkling Cass knew. Actually more than an inkling, it was apparent Apollo couldn't keep anything that was theirs to himself. Oliver was truly going to have to teach him some patience if he was going to survive. "I jus' need space ta work." He knew Oliver wouldn't buy that but they'd have to figure that out after the fact.

[goldenboywrites]

August reappeared by Colter’s side when his mind called for him. To see the state of the prince was equally devastating and beautiful. Any emotion Colter wore on his face was lovely, and August had come to love every piece of him. He wanted to reach out and cradle the man breaking down in front of him because Colter yearned for him to do so, but only being a figment of the prince’s imagination did not allow him to do so. “Colter,” He whispered, trying to pull the prince from his breakdown. “Colter,” August said again, falling to his knees beside the prince. 

“You need to shove everything you feel right now aside and feel it all later. We don’t have time for this right now. Everett will be back soon, and you need a plan. If he comes back and sees this, you’ll never get the information you need from him, and you know it.” He slid across the floor, sitting in front of Colter now. “Look at me and breathe.” The prince raised his eyes, finding Augusts so effortlessly. “Whenever I am, you know I have not lost hope that you will find me. I know you will always find me.” He watched helplessly as Colter tried to control his heaving chest on his own, attempting to regulate his breathing. “You need to play his game a little longer, my love, and figure out how to get him to give you the truth.” 

The King grew tired of Everett’s games quite quickly. The man lashed out with speed, his hand gripping the column of Everett’s throat. The shock of the King’s movement made Everett drop his wine goblet on the bed, staining the fur blanket. The younger man gasped, his hand itching to grip the King’s wrist and pull him off, but he didn’t dare. He held his breath, doing what he could to control his breathing so he wasn’t a gasping mess. “I gave you my son,” the King hissed through his teeth, his fingers squeezing Everett’s neck. “I gave you the position you wanted, yet you are seeking more. You ask me for more. I see you, Everett, right through you and your games. You are not used to hearing the word no. You take that word as a challenge. I am not someone you will win against; that is a promise. Be happy with the position you’ve found yourself in. Learn to live with it instead of greedily asking for more.”

 “Like,” He spoke around a gasp, “father like,” He gasped again, face turning red from the lack of oxygen, “son.” The King’s brow furrowed in disdain at the comparison, and he released his hold on Everett, stepping back from the bed as if the touch had burned him. The prince’s right hand coughed, sucking in as much oxygen as he could deep into his lungs. He knew the King’s words were valid. Everett was always looking for the next conquest, the next challenge. It was his drug of choice. Nothing tasted as sweet as the victory of chasing after something or someone. He sat up, abandoning his spilled goblet, and stood up from the bed. “I’ll maintain my position per our agreement,” He said as he breezed past the King on his way to the door. With his hand on the handle, he turned, looking back at the King. “For now.”

It was instinct for Colter to reach out for August when he felt something unpleasant. And he'd done so in that instance as well but that was perhaps what made everything click into place for him. His eyes tore from the disgusting state that Everett had found himself in to his fist squeezing nothing down next to him. Perhaps he'd finally reached his fill and maybe he truly had just slipped past where he couldn't come back from but the only thing that did matter was that August had showed him. August was right. He'd never been dishonest and everything he said about that night was also true.

The prince tore his eyes from the monstrosity that was taking place in his father's quarters. He couldn't care to see the rest of whatever was going to take place and he absolutely refused to. Colter could feel his guts churning and while he didn't personally care, the last thing he wanted was to be found out and every bit of knowledge he'd gained would have been for not. And when he turned he was met with August's face. Not that he'd forgotten he was there, but knowing that he had truly played right into his father's hands broke a piece of him that he wasn't ready to feel yet. August was going to make that happen on the spot and without a second thought, Colter took off and he didn't stop until he'd reached his quarters.

The first thing he'd laid eyes on was something of Everett's and he saw nothing but red. He grabbed up the piece of clothing and twisted it between his hands as he strolled the length of the room. He was breathing so heavily he was quite certain he was going to pass out judging by the airy feeling in his head. It was only then that the tears did escape his eyes. His fingers stretched and pulled the fabric until it started to rip and the sound alone itched something in Colter that he couldn't describe. His fists balled into the fabric and he brought it against his chest, sobbing harder than he thought possible. Everything that he and August had worked for and towards was all for not because he couldn't keep sight of it when it was most important. The tears flowed freely and he didn't care that they did it was just by the grace of the gods that he was alone. It had dawned on him that since he'd left August that night to follow Everett into that room he'd been alone ever since.

He quietly sank onto his knees and just allowed the weight of what he'd really done sink into his very bones. August had always been right. Colter knew that deep down and he'd been shown it day after day by him and yet Colter couldn't return the favor. If it were possible to sink lower in that moment he most likely would have. If there were a way for him to slip into nonexistence in that moment he'd have taken it. But the hairs on the back of his neck started to raise and he knew he had to pull it together. He had to be the king that August had been shaping him towards.

"I'd understand if you never forgave me."

[goldenboywrites]

Oliver’s gaze snapped to Isaac at his words. A different feel for magic. What did that mean? The only people who had a different…his eyes scanned over Isaac’s face as if the answer would be written there. The only people who could feel or sense magic differently than regular wizards would be someone who had…His eyes widened, and he gasped lightly. All the pieces came together in his mind, one by one until the answer was clear as day. The only people who would feel magic differently would be those with non-human blood mixed in. His eyes widened, and he tightened his grip on Theodore. 

Isaac was a werewolf. 

Oliver had never met a werewolf before, and he knew better than to believe the prejudiced media about them. Isaac had never hurt him, never threatened him, and actually had never been aggressive towards him ever. But he had been towards Cassio, which made sense to him. It was a territorial thing over Apollo. “I understand,” He said to Isaac, “I completely understand, and you know, no matter, Isaac, you’ll always be my best friend.” Oliver waited by the door to the living room for Isaac to finish his drink. Theodore shifted his arms but remained asleep. “You know if you guys need a babysitter on certain nights…” He didn’t want to say full moon nights and embarrass Isaac, “I will happily keep those specific nights free so I can watch this little dude.” 

Apollo rolled his eyes at Cassio and pouted as the man stepped away. He missed his body's warmth, the feeling of his body pressed against Apollo. It was like feeling the snap of a tether, and he was left so cold that it almost made him want to cry. Deep down inside, he wanted to push Cassio. He wanted to grab and pull him close, nuzzling his head into the nape of his neck until the blonde gave into him because Apollo knew he would. He always had before. 

He adjusted himself and then left the nook, returning to the living room. At the same time, Oliver and Isaac come back to talk to each other in low voices. He brushed his hand across Cassio’s back, ducking in and whispering in Russian, “Ya vse yeshche dumayu o tebe.” His fingers left Cassio’s hip, and he continued on his way, throwing himself onto the couch. Oliver and Isaac finally stopped talking and looked between the two of them. 

Oliver looked between Cassio and Apollo; his brow raised as he tried to understand the tension he was feeling in the air. He was well versed in his boyfriend’s expressions and could tell that he wasn’t happy about something, that something had happened while they were gone, but he also knew it wasn’t the time to press Cassio. His poor boyfriend looked so unsettled, so on edge, that it hurt Oliver to look at him. And then there was Apollo, spread out on the couch as if he didn’t have a care in the world. But what was interesting to Oliver was how he was leering at Cassio as if he were the last man on Earth. He didn’t want Isaac to wolf out if he saw whatever the fuck this exchange was, so it was time for damage control.

“We found everything,” He said, walking across the room and placing himself at Cassio’s side. Oliver leaned forward, kissing the blonde’s temple, and pushed the sleeping toddler into his arms. Isaac wouldn’t hurt Cassio if he were holding his maybe child. “So we can start now."

Sometimes he truly wondered how they'd gotten themselves into the situations they did. But then it was always so obvious because it truly was just themselves. They set themselves up every time. But this was different. The whole day had been different. Even when Oliver came home earlier it felt strange, he just couldn't have put his finger on it but nothing could have prepared him for Apollo to be like this. Cass' breath caught when they moved off to the side and a part of him was just frozen from pure confusion and a hint of something he wasn't sure how to process.

He hadn't forgotten their little stint between themselves. He remembered more clearly than he remembered a lot of things in his life but he couldn't bring himself to think of that time as something good. Not that Apollo in his life was ever a bad thing but their state of mind then was absolute garbage and it felt nearly like a whole lifetime. It had been exactly what he wanted in the moment he would have never said otherwise but ... Cass opened his eyes, pulling himself out of this lust driven afront and he took Apollo's head in his hands. He couldn't see anything wrong with him in that way but he also had no idea how to respond to him in that state and not fuck everything up. What happens if Oliver and Isaac walk in on this? After opening that bedroom door he was very damn sure he wanted nothing else to do with it at all.

"Knock it off." He said firmly, his finger squeezing a little tighter around his cheeks to drive home his point. "This isn't the time to fall apart and if Oliver sees this I will never forgive you." Cass pushed Apollo back as best he could. There was at least space between them and it felt like a damn cold front had flooded between them. His eyes darted back to the kitchen door and he was quick to shove his shirt back into place and sort himself out. He knew his face was flushed, could feel the multitudes of varying frustrations coursing through his veins. "We have to figure out what's going on with Theo. And then," He pointed his finger at him as he stepped back towards where they'd been left. "You and I are going to talk about where the hell that came from." Cass drew in a deep breath, not remembering the last time he'd actually said anything as harsh to him but the whole thing was ridiculous. All of it. The boy, Isaac and now this? Cass brought his fingers up to rub on his temples to alleviate some of the tension.

"Go get them. We need to get this figured out."

Isaac smiled softly watching Oliver with the boy. It was wild how easy it was to just keep him in rotation as if it had always been. He could feel his heart swell at the notion but he kept it to himself, knowing that speaking such things into existence right then would have sounded absolutely mad. "I have a diffe'en' feelin' fo' magic than you o' Cass o' Apollo." He offered, knowing that it wasn't his thing to share from back home outside of Apollo but there wasn't a reason he couldn't trust Oliver. After all, he'd really been one of his first friends once he'd gotten free from his family. Isaac shrugged, moving to finish off his little list and grabbed the cup from the sink, pouring himself a quick drink. To which he threw back with no hesitation, grunting softly at the burn in the back of his throat. "I 'spose I ha'e ta start lettin' thin's be." He sighed, knowing it truly was his own temper that had ruined today and nothing else. Well .. Isaac drew another glass and poured a drink for Apollo when they went back in. He was certain he'd need it. "I'll work o' it. Bu' rememba they ain' no saints." He teased, nodding for the door. "Ready, yeah?"

[goldenboywrites]

August stayed settled in Colter’s lap until the meeting was adjourned. As soon as everyone started to stand up and remove themselves from the room, he disappeared in the blink of an eye. 

Everett was slow to stand up, bones cracking as he drew himself to stand. He stretched, twisting his upper body until he felt more mobile. How everyone sat through these meetings and did not fall asleep from boredom was behind him. He turned his head, studying the prince’s expression. Something was off about the man, but Everett couldn’t figure out what had happened. The Colter he had come to know would have relished in the attention Everett had wanted to give him. Whatever was going on with the prince would have to wait. Everett had another meeting to get to. 

They were the last ones left in the room. “Hey,” Everett said softly, taking a step towards Colter. “I have to go to training now.” His hands fell onto the prince’s shoulders, fingers digging into the muscles and kneading them lightly. “You seem tired today,” Everett said, ducking down and kissing Colter’s head lightly. “You should take the afternoon off. I’ll bring dinner up to your quarters after training is over. Sound good?” He didn’t wait for Colter’s confirmation but left the room and went to the King’s private quarters. 

The King wasn’t in there when Everett got to his room, but the guards let him through without a fuss. He waltzed in, poured himself a goblet of wine, and sat on the end of the bed to wait. 

“Colter,” August popped up in the hallway, a way down from the man. “Over here,” He said, waving the man forward. He didn’t wait for Colter but continued down the hall opposite Colter’s wing. “Hurry.” He continued to move forward ahead, Colter only managing to catch slight glimpses of him as he turned corners. Until August stood still in front of the King’s quarters, unable to proceed forward. He didn’t say anything as Colter came to stand next to him. August only pointed at the door, nodding his chin towards it. 

When the King finally graced Everett with his presence, it was to the younger man sprawled out on his bed. “You forget your place,” He said, eyeing Everett. 

“Maybe I’m hoping to elevate my place,” He replied in a husky tone, swirling the goblet of wine and raising a brow at the King. “Move on from boys to men.” The King merely grunted and poured himself a goblet. “You seem very tense, my King. I could help with that.” 

“I want you to do the job I assigned you, Everett.” The younger man rolled his eyes and laid back on the bed with a huff. “How is my son?” 

“I’m keeping him occupied per your instructions, but I’m growing bored. He made me his right hand. He practically has me living in his quarters, and he’s not looking for August. Never really brings him up anymore, either.” He didn’t tell the King how often he had seen the prince coming out of August’s bedroom or staring off into the distance. While he was still seeking an opportunity to raise his position, he still had loyalty to Colter. 

The King moved towards the bed, leaning his hip against the bedpost. “You never told me how you got rid of that nuisance.” 

Everett spread his legs, smirking up at the King. The King merely frowned in disapproval, but Everett had never met someone who didn’t eventually give in to him. It didn’t hurt that he and King both had things to hide. He couldn’t punish Everett for his actions because Everett would tell Colter what the King tasked him to do. It was a beautiful situation to find himself in. They both needed each other and had dirt on each other. The King and Everett had each other pinned up against the wall. It would come down to who broke who first. “I’m sure you can find a way to convince me.”

Colter wanted to yell and scream from the roof tops of every house in that godforsaken village below. If he'd just listened none of this would have happened. This was what August had always been trying to warn him of. That if he didn't take a moment to consider things, it'd get away from him and before he knew it everything was so far out of control. This time wasn't any different. The glimpse of seeing him sitting on Everett turned his stomach and Colter was quick to look away from him him, his hand gripping he arm of his chair and he squeezed so tightly he thought he might actually splinter the furniture with sheer will. His head rested upon the other hand, his gaze drifting amongst the table until he'd reached his father.

I don't love him. He finally settled on because he knew his time with August was coming to a close. The older gentleman behind had relinquished his time to the next and the agenda had been short as it was. But he needed him to understand that whatever was happening with Everett was not love. Or at least it wasn't to Colter. He cared for him deeply but not in the way he cared for the man walking on tables and genuinely saving the prince from himself in that moment. I've asked everyone here and no one will speak to me about you. It's like you never even existed but your rooms remain. He stopped himself and he'd realized that was because more often than not, Colter found himself wandering in there or waking up in August's bed without having started his evening there. Gods how he missed the smell of those sheets even in that moment.

Rather than actually see, Colter could feel Everett shifting his position behind him and it was the oddest thing because his father looked away at that exact moment. Perhaps he'd grown bored of waiting for the prince to let him tussle around in his garments again. He was subtle in the way he laced his trousers back together and adjusted the tunic to hide them. How could he just let Everett do that? Not that he didn't enjoy it but he had duties, a country he was supposed to be preparing for, not playing grab ass in a counsel meeting. He truly deserved to have his ass handed to him and by the man trying so damn hard to coax him free again.

I will find you, Auggie. I will and I will make whoever took you from me pay for it. That was absolute truth and he'd see it through but August had been right. He needed to look and not in the way he had been. His mind was set that he'd leave for his parent's estate in a weeks time or sooner if he could manage. His biggest obstacle was going to be getting the means to go though he thought he might have a trick or two up his sleeve if need be. Please don't give up on me. Not yet. I'm here. Colter brought his hand up to rest over his heart and he smiled so faintly at August. I won't be whole until you are too.

[goldenboywrites]

“I-” Iggy started but stopped. He felt wave after wave of emotion hit him through the bond. Guilt at first, fear, then sorrow. It was frustrating to hold the brunt of their bond until their ceremony, and it opened itself up more to Julius. And Ignatius felt terrible about what he had said. These were the facts of their situation to him, but to Julius, this was all new, and it was what his father, Iggy, had been talking about. “An omen?” He said, scrunching his face up with displeasure. “No, I’m a wizard.” The water horse dissipated, and Iggy rested his hands in the center of his lap. “Look, I’m..I didn’t mean to spring that on you like that about your father. My whole life has been about this bond, and I forget it’s not the same for you. You’ve gotten to live your life as you always have, but for me? It changed everything. What I study, how I study, how I was trained. To me, the information regarding the bond is just pure fact. I’ve heard about it my entire life, but I shouldn’t have delivered it so callously.” 

As Julius turned away from him, Iggy fought against the disappointment crawling up his throat at not having the man’s attention solely focused on him. Still, he listened to the prince’s words, and while the bond tried to lull him into a sense of false security over it, Iggy wouldn’t fall for honeyed words. Julius may be saying all this now, but things would change, as they always did, when he realized how powerful it would feel to wield a wizard. “Of course, you were told not to trust me,” He said, shoulders shrugging. “But look at it from another perspective for a moment. All wizards must devote their magic to the crown by royal decree, yet are we untrustworthy? You called for me through the mark, and I came. Immediately, I might add, yet your people wish for me to be treated like a criminal?”

Iggy stood, hands on his hips, and he paced the length of the fountain angrily. It was just like these royals to treat wizards like this. He wasn’t the first, but he would be the last. That was a promise and a threat all rolled into one. Maybe they were right to warn Julius about him, but if anyone was to blame, it was them. 

“I guess we’ll see,” He said because Iggy didn’t want to hear words. Words meant nothing. If Julius was different, maybe they could work together to change the world. Iggy wouldn’t have to go through everything Victor had trained him to do. But actions spoke louder until he saw that from the prince; Iggy had to remember that they weren’t friends. Julius was a means to an end, or he would be an enemy. Regardless of the bond, Iggy couldn’t lose sight of that. “And feel free to tell your people everything I say. I’m more than happy to sit down and tell them myself. I have nothing to hide.”

He couldn't help but stare at the little creation of water spurting its way across, well, itself. It was truly something. Not something Julius had ever seen. And, he couldn't help but be in awe of all of it. What he did know didn't even seem to be all that much of anything. It was in that moment that he realized he'd be needing to listen more than lead when it came to this. Though he wasn't sure how he felt about that yet. Well, not just that but any of it. Iggy especially.

He felt the understanding of what was being said wash over him and he dismissed it just as fast. The warm sun on his back and he sighed softly, moving to place his hand down in the water. The coolness struck him as odd but not that odd. And all at once it felt like the air had left him and he was left to flounder all on his own. You're going to be crowned soon. That wasn't something he'd considered. Well, he had but not any time soon. His father was still king and capable and ... Julius looked up at Iggy then and couldn't decide whether or not to hate him for that. He hardly knew him but yet was tied to him and yet he'd delivered one of the most devastating pieces of information to him as if it were the gossip from his village's baker.

He didn't know what to say to him but he also couldn't look away. Town between guilt and annoyance. Terror and sorrow. There wasn't a single place for that man to go, he was trapped there and that was the worst feeling. "Is that your way of telling me you're an omen?" He finally settled on, not knowing what else he could say or do. Did he ask if he knew what that meant for his father? Was he a seer of sorts? Did hell grant him favors for the magic he possessed? He also hadn't placed a good or bad label on the man before him. While he wasn't sure what was all to come, there was no certain terms that dictated what he said absolutely had to be true. They had fortune tellers and tricksters of the sort and their tricks never seemed this dire. But he feels different.

Julius didn't give him a chance to answer but instead swung his body until it faced forward and he could see the throne room from where they sat in that little garden. His tongue clicked curiously a moment but just a moment. "I was told not to trust you." He admitted, his hands resting on either side of the fountain's ledge to hold him in place. "I was told you'd be trouble and that if I had the chance to tell them every thing I could about you." It was then that he looked at him and finally understood why they knew nothing about his kind. Well, next to nothing. "I don't want to be like that. I don't want to have secrets." He tugged his lower lip just slightly between his teeth as he thought it over a moment. "I believe you and I could be different." And he did truly believe that. If for no other reason than he believed it of himself. He had no idea the sort of king he would be but he wanted to be great in the right ways. "If what you say is true then maybe it'll come sooner than we realize." It was a dark thing to say but still he did, more so as if to signal to himself to consider it.

[goldenboywrites]

Quin threw himself into the car, relieved to not be in the house anymore. Living there again for the next few days would be a challenge. He had thought time away would have healed him, and in some ways, it had, but being there brought many memories he had buried up to the surface. He knew what he was there to do. He signed the documents he needed to, got his trust signed, helped Max with the funeral, and then handled the rest of his business. It was a manageable to-do list. Then, he would be entirely free for once. 

The music from the radio blared, and Quin lost himself to it. It wasn’t until he caught Cesare’s movement out of the corner of his eye that Quin snapped his gaze to his hand. At first glance, he thought Cesare was reaching for his thigh.  Quin didn’t know for whatever reason, but he felt a wave of disappointment wash over him when he reached for the glovebox and pulled out sunglasses instead. He watched as Cesare played around, but it wasn’t his goofy ass face or his words that caught Quin’s attention but the way his muscles flexed when he shifted the gears. His gaze flickered down to it, watching as he moved the movement, captivated by it. His mouth ran dry, and he turned in his seat before returning to earth and realizing what was happening. 

Quin’s eyes flickered back up to meet Cesare’s. He rolled his eyes dramatically. “Everyone is cooler than you,” He muttered, scrunching in his seat. There wasn’t any bite to his remark. He was on the defense after catching himself starting at Cesare’s arms. “And I’m well versed in cuss words for most languages already.” Quin brought his elbow up onto the armrest and leaned his head against his palm. “I’m in a linguistics program.” Then, he realized he didn’t even know what Cesare and Max studied at college. What they majored in. He assumed business because that was what had been set up for Maximus long before Quin had been exiled, and he imagined Cesare would have followed along after his brother. 

He didn’t know how to tell Cesare that he didn’t have friends because then that would be admitting to a lie and giving Cesare leverage to try and convince Quin to stay. And it wasn’t that he didn’t have friends, but they weren’t people Quin would be sad about never seeing again. They filled his time when he yearned to socialize, but he had made no deep-seated connections over there. There was no point in it because they would never really know him. Sometimes, he felt like no one would ever really know him again. “I’m actually the captain,” He said after a moment, tilting his head to look at Cesare. He ran his fingers through his locks, smirking at the man. “Of the break-dancing team, so I would say they absolutely need me back. The co-captain is going to let them slack off until I return. And,” He leaned forward, switching the stations a few times until he found something softer and mellow for them to listen to. “We’re raising money to give to a sick child.” Quin raised a brow, the challenge thrown out in between them. “Now, don’t you feel bad for trying to get me to walk away from that?”

He wasn't nervous per say but there were definitely a butterfly or two that might have been flitting around in his stomach since he'd left Quintus standing in his room. Completely sleepy and disheveled was not how he'd wanted to see him again. Not that he had any indication that would have happened, only that he'd wished for it. Desperately. But none the less, he had him again and maybe he could change his mind. He'd been able to before. Before he just up and left and Cesare was left without either of them for months. He had never told Max, and obviously never Quin either, but that was truly hell on earth for him. It'd been so long since he'd really been without one of them that to lose them both in the span of the summer was one of the most gut wrenching experiences he'd had up until that point. And then Max came back and things started to feel okay again. But Quintus never did and Cesare never really got over that. Obviously.

Cesare hurried into his own room and was quick about cleaning up. There was no sense in changing so he took to combing his hair into place only to realize that had been pointless, splashing some cool water on his face and brushing his teeth. Of all the other things to be concerned with, his breath shouldn't have been one but still he just wanted it all to be perfect. Idiot. He made quick work of joining Quintus then only to be met with a set of keys hitting him square in the chest and the pair were off.

It was a few minutes before Cesare could really say anything. The combination of the engine coming to life on their way out and the blaring radio, courtesy of it's last occupant. And he couldn't quite recall to which one of them it had been but Cesare finally made the move to lower the music and turn his attention from the road to the glove box. "Hang on." He said as he popped it open and grabbed for his sunglasses, tossing it shut and putting them on his face in one quick swoop. He checked his reflection in the mirror smiling to himself and then he looked over to Quintus, lifting his chin slightly as if to say he truly was the hottest thing in this car.

"Are your new friends cooler than me?" He asked, his hand sliding down over the gear shift as the engine whined and he slid from second into third with ease. "Did they teach you awful curse words in foreign languages?" Cesare pressed down on the gas just a little more and the car truly came to life under them. They'd take the highway into a town or two over. Honestly, if Max knew he was coming then fuck him. Not that he meant that. Max and Cesare were best friends, would be until the day they both were dead and even after he supposed. But he just wanted to be selfish, just for a little while. "I mean are they really?" His focus drifted towards Quintus and he peeked at him from over top his glasses. "I could understand if they were part of a break dancing squad and they were depending on you to win their regional championship for money for a neighbor who's got a sick cat or something." He teased, winking as he looked back towards the road, shifting into fourth as their turn for the highway came up and their car floated effortlessly onto it.

[goldenboywrites]

Scorpius dragged his gaze to meet Albus as the man came to stand before him. He felt Albus’ words hit him, and Scorpius hadn’t realized how much he needed to hear Albus tell him to stay. He was allowed to be here, and he was wanted here. Even after all of the years they had spent apart…hearing that from Albus meant more to him than anything because it meant he had a chance. He had an opportunity to make things right. 

Albus’ hand on his chest burned through his clothes as if the man was touching his bare skin. Even as he pushed Scorpius back, he planted his feet and remained directly in front of the man. “I want to stay,” He whispered before moving forward and pulling Albus into a tight hug. The blonde buried his face in Albus’ neck, inhaling the familiar scent of him. “I just want a chance to make things right, Albus.” He had allowed himself those years to run away, to gain some perspective, and to work on himself, but now it was the time to mend the relationships he had left behind. It was time for him to plant roots and build the life his father would have wanted for him, but Scorpius knew he couldn’t do it alone. 

He squeezed Albus to him one more time before taking a step out of his grasp. Scorpius shrugged off his jacket and wrapped it around Albus’ shoulders. He aimed a soft smile at the man, and he would probably regret his next step if he was honorable, but Scorpius couldn’t eliminate all of his Malfoy traits. “I’m happy you’re happy,” He said softly, raising his hand to cup Albus’ cheek, his thumb brushing over his cheekbone. “With Andrew. He seems like a decent guy.” Then he leaned in, closing the already short distance between them, and whispered in Al’s ear, “He’s a good-for-now guy.” 

Scorpius started walking backward so he didn’t break their gaze. He wanted Albus to feel his words, so he knew they were genuine, that Scorpius meant it with every inch of his soul. “But when you’re ready for the real thing…” He shrugged, unable to stop his lips from spreading into a smirk. “The forever kind of thing…let me know.” 

His heart was running a mile a minute at the moment. Pounding so hard, Scorpius was scared it would break his ribcage and leap out of his chest. He opened the door back to the bar and stepped inside. “Holy fuck,” He muttered, tucking his head into the palms of his hands as he tried to control his breathing. His chest was heaving from the high of their conversation. Scorpius had never been that bold, but it felt good. It was a relief to finally leave everything they knew between them but never acknowledged out on the table like that. 

“Scorpy?” Teddy popped up in the doorway, raising a brow at the state of him. “Merlin, did you run away from him or something? Why are you out of breath?’ The blonde shook his head, stepped towards Teddy, and took the half-drunk drink from his hand. 

Scorpius downed it in one go, ignoring how Teddy’s eyes widened. “No,” He said, hearing the door open behind them. “I’m not running from anything anymore,” He said, loud enough for Albus to hear. “I know what I want.” Then he turned, looking up at Albus from under his lashes. “And I’m ready to fight for it.” Then he looped his arm through Teddy’s, tugging the man back towards the bar. He wasn’t quick enough to distract Teddy from noticing Albus wearing his jacket, but then Scorpius said the magic words. “I think it’s time for some shots, don’t you two agree?”

This was going to be a much different conversation than Albus had been planning to have with him. The smile he'd been wearing dropped slowly the more Scorpius spoke. It was clear something was wrong and Al couldn't quite catch what was happening until it'd come out of his mouth. His cheeks were a brighter shade of red by the feeling and he wrapped his arms tighter around himself, hoping to find some kind of answer to give him. Because what was he going to say? No one had stopped being who and what they were, age only reinforced a lot of it for them. And things hadn't been easy as they got older, mostly because of their heritage and that sort of thing but it made them different. Everyone was and it hadn't missed Scorpius but it was then that Albus realized maybe the negative connotation was the problem. He was the problem.

Whenever they'd all get together it was like they were children again. Constantly fighting for attention and recognition from everyone all the time. Al's mouth opened to say something but he closed it just the same. His lip was quivering with need to clear the air and just start the day again. "James is an arse, Scorp. That's never going to change." When he'd realized what he called him, it was too late but still he pushed forward. "And you and Rose ..." He sighed shrugging his shoulders, his fingers itching against the inside of his arms, craving to grab onto stability in his drunken state. "I don't know how everyone else is going to be with you being back." Al decided on because that was the truth of it. Everyone was going to have their own opinions and that was just going to be that.

Without a second thought, Albus took another step closer to Scorpius and placed a hand out on his arm. "You know they all suck. They have always sucked and I've had to deal with all of them on my own." He thought just then of how Lysander had made the effort to touch him in just this way and nearly made him recoil but Albus wasn't going to let that little shit steal this from him. "You're staying and I don't want to hear another word about it." And maybe it was the alcohol and the loose feeling he had all over but he felt the warmth radiating off of him and he just wanted to be in it and so another step came and Albus sighed a deep sigh of relief. As if something long since misplaced had found it's way home.

"You're a goddamn Malfoy." He smiled, pushing into the other's chest a little harder than he'd intended. "Since when do you let anyone do anything around you that you don't like?" He'd hoped that bit was still true about Scorpius. He'd imagined it was, perhaps not in the way he'd remembered but a spark like that is hard to lose. His smile grew a little more sincere and he gazed at his hand on his chest, knowing the last time he'd touched him, his hands didn't cover so much space on him. It felt like his chest cracked at that realization but he wouldn't let it show on his face. But fuck did he need another drink if this was how the rest of his night was going to be spent. "Don't go." He added just barely louder than a whisper, too afraid to seem too desperate in front of a man that meant everything to him.

[goldenboywrites]

August tilted his head to the side, studying Colter’s face, trying to find the truth in his words, but they both knew his offer was bullshit. “You wouldn’t cast him out,” He said, and in the blink of an eye, he disappeared from Colter’s lap and reappeared straddling Everett. “You love him,” August said, running the back of his hand down the side of Everett’s face. The man beneath him didn’t flinch or even react to August’s words. “It must be such a thrill to have the two of us fighting for your attention all of the time while you reap the benefits of having both of us.” 

Then he disappeared again before coming into Colter’s view, standing on the table. “You speak of promises like you didn’t break yours that day…” He walked the length of the table, his hands behind his back. “We were supposed to stay together, but you allowed yourself to be distracted. If you hadn’t been so smitten with the freedom of being in the town, with Everett at your side, maybe you would have noticed I was gone. But instead, you went into that room with him. He certainly was persistent, wasn’t he?” August turned on his heel and walked back to Colter; the items on the table beneath him remained undisturbed. “You have all the clues, Colter, but you don’t want to see them. You have to connect the dots.” 

“Everything we’ve been through, and you think I would leave you that way?” August placed his hands on his hips, shaking his head at Colter. “You know I wouldn’t. I am not a coward. I would have talked with you if I wasn’t happy at court. I have never shied away from a fight, not even with you. And my belongings? My prized possessions? Would I really leave it all behind like that? You know what those things mean to me. I’ve taken breaks from the court before when it was too overwhelming when I missed home. I prepared you for it. We would talk about it, and I would only leave if we agreed. I know you see it, Colter. The inconsistencies this time. You are the only one concerned about me being gone. Why isn’t anyone even talking about it? The years your father’s court spent training me, and they will let me abandon the oath I made to you?  You have to trust your gut feeling and push back. Something isn’t right about this. This isn’t something I would ever do to you.”

His head snapped towards Everett just as the man shared a long, meaningful look with the King. It was as if the two were having a silent conversation together. The King’s gaze briefly flickered to Colter, back to Everett, and then to the man speaking. As if it never happened. But if August noticed it, Colter also had to have seen it. “You have to wake up, my love,” August said, his voice softening as he looked at the prince. “Stop letting them distract you.”

Perhaps it had been too long since he'd conjured August to speak to. Even though it felt like just yesterday. But the fierceness of his words were biting at parts of the prince he hadn't expected. Then again, it wasn't all that out of place at all. Had he been doing what he was supposed to be, as August put it, he would be seated at his side and not Everett. Not the man that was pleading for his cock in that moment. Colter brought his fist up to his face and bit down on the closest knuckle. He could barely stand the soft touches from Everett and then to be scolded by this one in his lap.

"Later." Colter told Everett in a hushed voice, shrugging him off and the prince shifted awkwardly in his seat until he was positioned off to the other side. The scene caused the advisor speaking to look over at the pair of them and the prince did nothing but stare forward as if nothing had happened. Whatever rift that caused he'd supposed he could make up for later. August was here and he wasn't sure for how long. He didn't care, he'd have his damn time with him.

I can't. Colter simply told him because what else was there to say? If he hadn't left none of this would be happening and they'd still be happily off in the castle alone. They'd be in one of their places laughing and talking and sorting out the kingdom's affairs as if they were already running everything. They had made so many plans. So many good things were going to come because of them. If August wasn't there, what would be the point? You know there is always a place for you. There will always be a place for you. You will never live anywhere but court with me. You promised me.

Colter felt the heat of the tears welling in his eyes. Gods did he need August with him. He could feel Everett staring at him as if he'd really gone off but he sat calmly, eyes only for August. No matter how sad, Colter couldn't look away. The way his auburn hair framed his face, his fingers itched to brush it back from his face and pull him in for a kiss. He'd nearly forgotten what he tasted like. Is it Everett? Is that why you won't return home? If he's gone would you? Colter hadn't wanted to consider that perhaps the cost would always be one for the other but he had to know. The last few weeks with Everett had healed a part of him he hadn't known was still aching. A goodbye with no closure is never good and to live through multiple? He could hardly bear it.

[goldenboywrites]

He was pressed up against the alley, foot braced against the wall, his head tilted up at the sky. It was a clear night. He could see the constellations in the sky. Of course, the one he was named after was always the first he liked to seek out. Scorpius should have known Teddy would send Albus out to get him. It had always worked in his favor when Scorp was a kid. Just send Albus out to get him, and Scorpius will follow him back in, nipping at his heels. Just send Albus to calm him down, and he’ll smile again in no time. “When Teddy said jump this time, did you ask how high?” He asked, keeping his eyes on the sky. 

It was a low blow; Scorpius felt guilty for it the moment the words left his lips. Conversations with Rose always riled him up. It wasn’t the first time that Albus took the brunt of it. “Sorry,” He apologized, shoving his hands into the pocket of his jacket to hide the shakiness of his hands. “I shouldn’t have said that.” Scorpius didn’t want to be the weapon that the world had made him, that his mother had made him. For so long, he had let people’s opinions on his family shape how he felt about himself until he realized, looking in the mirror, that he hated himself as much as the wizarding world hated him. He had built many layers to protect himself from what the Prophet said about his family. He had trained himself to lash out on instinct. It was a hard habit to break even through the years of his being gone. 

Apologizing was a new thing for Scorpius. It wasn’t as terrible as he thought, but he certainly didn’t love admitting his faults either.  “Albus,” He said, drawing the man’s name out, letting it linger on the tip of his tongue. Scorpius turned to look at him finally. “If me being here is going to cause issues for you, just say it.” They had been fine when they were alone together. Scorpius had thought they were connecting again, that Albus was seeing the ways he had changed, but as soon as it turned into a group setting, everything got fucked up. Like Albus hadn’t wanted him around his family and friends. Was that it? Did Albus get to keep all of their friends in the separation between them? Scorpius assumed that would be fair, considering he had left and Albus stayed. “I’ll figure something else out if my presence is unwelcomed around you and your friends.”

Ahh, Scorpius had missed watching Rose Weasley neuter any male who looked her way. By now, she must have three trunks full of balls she’d taken from the men in her life. He fought the smile that threatened to bloom across his face and leaned out of his seat and over the bar, grabbing a bottle of whiskey and refilling his empty glass. As James and Andrew tucked their tails between their legs and scrambled away, Scorpius swirled his drink, mixing it with the ice before taking a very long, well-deserved swig. 

But then he realized it was just the three of them, and that meant he had Rose’s full attention because Saint Albus was never in her crosshairs. “It’s hasn’t happened yet,” He replied, shrugging his shoulders, another mouthful of liquor because Rose was bound to give him a headache. At one point in time, they had been best friends, the trio that no one could get between, but they broke up into two smaller duos over time. Albus and Rose. Albus and Scorpius. Albus could do no wrong, and Scorpius could only do wrong, according to Rose. It's hard to believe that so many of their classmates had thought he and Rose would get over their issues and marry each other back then. “Out of curiosity, have you ever considered being less of a bitch?” He stared down at the contents of his drink. This was always how they operated, barbed words and slinging insults. “Guess we’ll see which happens first.” 

He didn’t point out that she came to his welcome home party. Mostly because she would deflect and claim it was only to support Albus. Maybe that was part of it, but Scorpius knew it was because she needed to look at him to truly believe that he was back, or maybe she just wanted another punching bag. Though that never worked in her favor prior years. He hadn’t thought meeting Albus’ boyfriend had gone poorly. He didn’t know what Albus was in a fuss over. Scorpius had only introduced himself and commented that he had heard good things about him. The conversation was three seconds and a handshake. They hadn’t even gotten past the introductions before James and Andrew were kicked out. Unless…Scorpius turned to study Albus’ side profile. Albus was avoidant when confronted with something he didn’t want to face. Maybe there was something about his boyfriend he didn’t want Scorpius to see. 

Scorpius tilted his head, hearing Albus loud and clear. What did it mean? What didn’t change? He couldn’t find the answers on Albus’ face. Welcome home, huh? So it was about him. Albus didn’t think he had changed. Scorpius had just spent the last half hour telling him how he had changed and had to leave to change and be better. Or Albus didn’t want him back here where he would be around. Maybe he wasn’t capable of having the same trust in Scorpius he had before. Because the bottom line was Scorpius had left. It was something he and Rose would hold over his head forever. 

He downed the rest of the drink, setting his empty glass on the bar and shook his head, sucking his teeth. “Maybe everything changed,” Scorpius said, lifting himself out of his seat. Maybe it was time to put this all to rest and leave the past at Hogwarts. He hadn’t done anything wrong tonight but would be punished forever for it by the two of them. “I’ll deal with Teddy if you guys want to go. I’ll make sure he doesn’t give you two grief about it. I won’t ask you to celebrate something you two aren’t happy about.” He grabbed the bottle of whiskey from the bar and walked away, stopping at the table where James and Andrew were. Scorpius set the bottle between them, a hand on each of their shoulders as he leaned down to their eye level. “Feel free to stay as long as you want. Let me catch up with a few more people, and then let’s have a drink, yeah?” He grinned at them, squeezing their shoulders. “I would love to hear some of what’s been happening at the Ministry of Magic.”

Then he took off towards what he hoped was the back door. He needed to feel the cool air, needed a moment to collect his thoughts and settle the pit in his stomach. Scorpius nearly collided with Teddy as he walked towards the door. His cousin took one look at his face then his gaze snapped to Albus and Rose. “Scorp..”He said, but the blonde shook him off, muttering about needing a break. Lysander stood up from his seat saying something Scorpius didn’t hear. All he could focus on was getting out of there. He was out the door but not before he heard Teddy say, “Not you. You go.” Then the snap of a finger.

[goldenboywrites]

“Fun?” Quin questioned, raising a brow at the man. “You forget I used to live here. I know what there is to do for fun around here, and I’ve done it all before I was a pre-teen.” But he appreciated Cesare trying. Part of him felt his incessant need to convince him to move back meant there was a place here for him to rebuild whatever he had here before again. He stood statue-still as Cesare came to stand in front of him. Quin’s eyes scanned over inches of his face, memorizing the differences he could find now that he was meeting Cesare as a man instead of a boy. It was unfair how his jaw sharpened and cruel that his eyes still shone with the carefree innocence of a child. Quin hated that standing before him was someone who was the equivalent of a Greek god, and he very well may need to walk away from him for the second time in his life. 

Quin held his breath deep in his lungs until Cesare turned and left the room. He did not acknowledge Cesare’s threat to return to drag him out of the house. He knew the man meant it. 

He moved to his bag, unzipped it, and dug through its contents until his fingers wrapped around the spine of his journal. Quin returned to his desk, pulled out a drawer, and opened the false bottom. Mementos from his childhood, precious to him, were secured there. He didn’t have enough time to take a complete inventory count, but his eyes briefly scanned everything there, and it looked untouched. Quin added his journal to this mix and secured the bottom before closing it.  

It didn’t take long for Quin to freshen up. He sprayed some cologne to cover the stale airplane lingering on his skin. He changed into a thin, tight green sweater and finished it with clean joggers. His body felt jittery with the anticipation of running errands with Cesare and having this alone time with him without Max present. It was almost as if the last few years hadn’t happened; they connected quickly again. That shred of hope that Quin had thought he had beaten out of himself was still inside him. 

He made his way down the stairs, memories blossoming to the surface of his mind as he walked through the house. There was the fifth step on the stairwell that always squeaked. In the hallway, he remembered when Max tackled him to the ground, trying to steal the remote, and knocked Quin’s last baby tooth out. He stopped in the kitchen doorway and remembered all of the baking lessons his mom had given him before she got sick. Before she was- 

Quin turned at the sound of footsteps and walked back towards the stairwell to meet Cesare. As many good memories as this house had, there were all the nightmares here, too. His uncle moving in after his parents passed away, his bedroom windows nailed shut, his parent's belongings being sold, and their family pictures being burned in the fireplace. Even when Quintus begged him to open his eyes, Maximus had been oblivious. “Ready?” He asked Cesare, avoiding his gaze. His throat felt thick, but he forced the words out. Quin didn’t wait for Cesare’s answer; he dragged the keys to the convertible from the key hanger (some things never change) and tossed them back to Cesare before cutting his way through the house and into the garage.

It was in those few moments that Cesare remembered exactly what Quin was like. And he also realized how much he had missed it. Of course Max was always his friend first, Quin was just different. He'd never had siblings or friends that did until he met the Max and it was just different. But he'd also realized that while he enjoyed that, he'd missed out on a lot. A lot of Quin growing into the young man standing before him. He could appreciate what the man was saying but Cesare also knew that now he knew he wasn't dead, there was very little he was going to let get in the way of letting him slip away again.

"I understand that. I didn't mean to imply you had to move back immediately or ever if you didn't want to." He said after a moment, his hands resting on his hips as he looked him up and down again. He'd truly filled out. Not like Max but in his own way. He was taller, the lashes over his eyes longer and those eyes. A shiver ran up his spine and Cesare clasped his hands in front of himself. "I just think that maybe you'd have more fun here is all." His deeply shrugged his shoulders, moving to run his hands back through his hair. He only hoped he hadn't been sleeping too hard. As his hands came down he rubbed over his mouth, making sure a drool trail wasn't plastered there either. He always had a way of knocking Cesare off track just long enough to keep him wanting more.

Cesare brought his hands away from his face took a moment to look at the watch on his wrist. He had absolutely no plans for the day but he knew damn well that if he allowed Quin to be left to his own devices, he'd be gone before supper. "If you want to get settled in here I'll give you a few minutes." He absolutely was not taking a chance on losing him again and not to mention, he wasn't entirely sure that Max had even seen him yet. His cheeks brightened a bit at that. Knowing that he'd seen Quintus first made his stomach feel a funny type of way. Cesare moved to lean back over the bed and retrieved his phone from the nightstand. Not a single message from Max. So that answers that.

"We're going to go run some errands. You can pick out food for the few days you are actually planning on staying." He meant that as a dib and he hoped Quin took it as such. Cesare moved towards him, his hand resting on his shoulder for a moment and he smiled brightly at him. "I'll meet you out in the car." He leaned in, letting out an excited breath before saying. "We can even take the convertible. It'll piss Max off." His skin was so close then. It felt as though his lips were itching to taste the salty, sweetness he knew to be there. His fingers gently squeezed his shoulder again and he brushed past Quin. "Don't make me come back and drag you out!" He shouted as he left out and moved down the hall. "I do still follow through on my promises!"