goldenboywrites

[goldenboywrites]

The truth was worse for him than any dare they would make him do. Scorpius rarely picked the truth during these games. To bare his soul to them would be his worst nightmare. They couldn’t blame him for completing a dare - whatever it was, telling the truth would cost him so much more. Albus was different; whatever he could choose usually depended on his mood and who was asking. Scorpius was surprised when Albus picked the truth from Lily. She was the most ruthless player in the game and wouldn’t go easy on him because they were siblings. There had been a time when Albus would have only picked the truth had Scorpius asked, knowing he would never abuse that power. 

Guess times change. 

“No one is interested in your jock life,” Lily replied, waving the idea off with her hand. “We’re only interested in the deep-rooted secrets of one Albus Potter.” Scorpius laughed, extending his arm and resting it against the back of Albus’ chair. He could feel the heat coming off the back of Albus’ neck and envision his skin blushing red. Funny, Scorpius thought to himself. Was it because of the drinks or the fact that they were so close? Selfishly, he knew what he wanted the answer to be, but how could he be so sure? Albus had Andrew now. 

“My, dear, sweet, favorite, brother,” Lily’s voice mused, her fingertips tapping together as an evil, snake-like smirk broke out on her face. Scorpius grabbed his drink with his free hand, taking a heavy gulp in anticipation. “Truth it is. Name the person who has given you the best snog of your life.” Scorpius coughed, some of his drink going down the wrong way in his throat. “And if you tell us why it was the best, I’ll give you one free pass on any truth or dare you receive for the rest of the game, but you can’t use it on this one.”

Truth be told, Al had never been a true fan of this game. If for no other reason than the rest of his family delighted in making his life a living hell with it. Rose in particular when they were younger. So when he saw that glint in Lily's eye he had a sinking feeling that he was truly going to be in for it. But a notion had entered his brain about the point in time that the pig's tail had made it's appereance and he decided it was truly one of the best revelations he could have. Albus Potter no longer cared. And while he would have said he'd been that way for a while, this time he truly meant it.

The ruckus of Andrew and their table was drowning out what voice of reason the middle Potter had. He should have gotten up and helped him. Should have been the better person and put a stop to all of this but seeing all of that happen and not having to feel responsible for it kept his behind parked right in the seat he was with Scorpius. The back of his neck was on fire and there was no question that conversations would be had until they were both blue in the face over it all but damn if it didn't feel good when he flashed that smile at his sister and her anticipation.

"Seeing as Teddy seems to care very little for the well being of the patrons tonight ..." He started, taking his glass in his had to slam back the rest of his drink. His cheeks puffed out with the contents before he swallowed it all back, eliciting a hushed snicker from Rose. "I think a truth may actually hold more harm than good tonight." The threat of a blush was edging on the sides of his face but he refused to give in to it. Though he could blame it on the alcohol, a certain someone would know better. He hated that much hadn't changed for him since the last time he and the blond at his side had seen one another but that was just the nature of his beast at the end of it all.

Albus was who and how he was, for better or worse. The older they got the worse it seemed to end up but who was to say it wouldn't have been that way anyway? The four of them cluttered around the table had more in common than they thought, Albus just didn't have the strong constitution the rest did. Or whatever Teddy tried to tell him the last time Al found himself in a moment of weakness and ready to whip everything into oblivion.

"You know team secrets are off the table." He warned, jokingly but not. Lily's quick nod let him know she understood, no matter how she disagreed with it. "Give me your worst."

[goldenboywrites]

Rufus slid Asa a fruit plate. The younger man pulled himself onto the bar, kicking his feet and pulling the plate into his lap. He picked through the fruits, looking for the ones he liked, pushing the ones he didn’t off to the side. “Busy tonight,” Asa commented, popping a mango in his mouth. “Need me to work the room? I can take a break from the back.” 

Rufus grunted, moving away from Asa to refill goblets. When he returned, Rufus nodded towards a table with two younger men. From his view, Asa could see they were touching each other under the table. They looked longingly into each other’s eyes as if they were the only two in the room. But he also noticed their attire. It wasn’t the same as the other customers'. No, these two wore rich material fabrics that were well put together. Expensive. “That’s the prince,” Rufus whispered. “Second time I’ve seen him here, and next to him is his right hand. He’s here all of the time.”

Everett turned towards Colter, eyes scanning over the prince, trying to decipher his words. Was Everett ever going to stop yearning for things truly? He didn’t know. If he had to assume, Everett would say it was unlikely. No matter what he wanted, he was always looking for more. But he knew, deep down, he knew, what Colter was looking for. No matter what Everett did, he would always be looking for August.

Asa studied the two from across the bar. A feeling lingered in the pit of the stomach at their closeness, but he didn’t understand why he felt a longing. He pushed it aside and chalked it up to jealousy. He didn’t have any friends here. He didn’t know anyone here. “Do they rent workers?” Asa could only imagine the coin they both carried in their pockets, and he wanted it. He wanted all of it. 

“The dark-haired one, yes. All of the time. He’s run through my entire roster ‘cept you, of course. The prince seems slightly shy, uncertain of this place, but Everett can be incredibly convincing when he wants something.” 

“Everett.” The name tasted funny on his tongue, like disdain and anger, but Asa didn’t understand why. He had never seen this man before. “What does he like?” 

Rufus chuckled, wiping his hands off with a towel. “Anything that breathes, really, but the safest bet is a challenge. I’ve already told him that he can’t book you today.” 

“Colter,” Everett said, running his fingertips along the prince’s arm. “You make my heart full. I don’t need anything else when I have you.” The lie slid off his tongue with ease.

“Auction me to the bar,” Asa said quickly, pushing the abandoned plate of fruit off to the side. “Do the usual bit, they’ll bite, I know it. I’ll clean them out of gold and leave them wanting more.” He promptly stood on top of the bar just as Rufus cleared his throat, silencing those around the bar. It was thrilling to have heads turn towards him, to feel their gazes on him. While Asa didn’t like what he had to do in Rufus’ employment, he didn’t mind the attention. 

Everett’s gaze snapped towards the commotion of the bar. He squinted, trying to see what Rufus’s new boy looked like. 

“Everyone,” Rufus called out, his hands framing his mouth to extend his voice. “I want to introduce you to my newest boy, Asa.” The crowd clapped, and some whistled their approval. Asa bowed, half of his body dipping low in gratitude. He walked along the length of the bar, making a show of it, then moved to the side of the bar closest to the prince, blowing a kiss out to the crowd. “You all know the deal. The highest bid gets the first night.” 

The boy moved across the bar with ease and grace. Everett could see he had long limbs and a small figure. The customers around the bar started moving towards the boy, shouting out the amounts of gold they were willing to give to Rufus. Everett wanted him immediately. He couldn’t look away from the back of the male’s head. He felt Colter squeeze his thigh. “It’s a game,” He explained, watching this Asa boy twirl across the bar. “Highest bidder gets his first night.” Then the dancing male turned, walking along the bar until he was across from Everett and Colter. He gasped, slapping his hand across his mouth to muffle its sound. “He looks like…”

But he couldn’t be because August had been gone for months. Everett had (kinda) looked around the kingdom for him. There was no way he had been right under their noses the whole time. There was no way that August would work in a place like this, selling his body to random customers night after night. Everett felt quick movement next to him and turned, but the prince no longer occupied the seat. “Colter? Colter, wait!”

His gaze fixed on their hands while Everett spoke. It shouldn't have hit him as odd but it had. Granted he knew he was still battling court rules but this was different. More intimate than he'd been expecting. Perhaps he took this date thing seriously. Colter swallowed harder and scooted around in his seat, their hands clenching tighter as he did so. It had been long enough that this should be natural. He should automatically realize the restraints are gone. That he is free and somehow, it still hung over his head. He wondered if it would be possible to be rid of that too. All things in time he supposed.

"It's a fine line." He spoke diplomatically because it was the Gods' honest truth. Even being here and being recognized would have consequences but none as serious should the country be at war. Now that he was getting older the reigns would be lessened but the time when that would happen seemed to always be just out of reach. "Our bad decisions leave people without things some times." He offered, knowing he was dangerously close to losing Everett to the mundane complacency that came with their lives. "Besides," He started, draining a good amount from his goblet just then. A soft hum sounded on his lips and he sighed happily. "Do we have to constantly think of what everyone else is doing or thinking?"

The alcohol was starting to hit him then and the warm sensation bubbled up to leave him feeling warm and fuzzy all over. He hated and loved the sensation all in the same stroke. The loss of control but the feeling of freedom. How did normal men operate with this feeling all of the time? He wondered if this was why August had always done his best to keep Colter from over consuming it in any capacity. There'd been the occasional night where they both slipped in to the silly giggles but not as often as he'd been lately.

"What else could you possibly yearn for?" He asked curiously, knowing full and well that Everett had eyes bigger than even he. "The kingdom basically at your disposal and a fat satchel." His fingers squeezed as he gave him a good once up and down. Everett was possibly the best looking man at court if you'd poll the lot of them. There wasn't anything he couldn't have. So why would he slum it here of all places? "What more could make your heart all the more full?"

[goldenboywrites]

Sometimes, he imagined leading a different kind of life than the one he led. In another life, he would own a fruit stand in the market—one with the reddest apples and the juiciest oranges. He would give free samples to hungry kids, then go home to a modest cabin near the woods, where the love of his life would be out in the garden tending to their crops. Before heading to bed, they’d go inside and enjoy dinner by the fire. 

But he didn’t live that kind of life, or any life for that matter. How could he when he didn’t know who he truly was? 

The details of his arrival at the tavern are fuzzy at best; his life before the tavern was even fuzzier. According to Rufus, he had been unconscious when he was dropped off. There had been an exchange of gold for him, but the man wasn’t a local or anyone Rufus knew or recognized. It had been months since that happened. Now, the only life he knew was one he despised. He worked the backrooms of the tavern, filled goblets, picked pockets, and, worst of all, gave his body over for others to enjoy. 

The man he was currently entertaining pulled up his pants. Asa stayed on the bed, as was customary. When the man finished dressing, he threw coins on the bed, washed his face, and left without a word. Asa sighed and rolled over, wincing at the sting of pain in his lower back. He pulled himself out of bed and over to the water basin, taking the cloth to clean the sweat and other matter off his body. He was slow to pull on his clothes, each movement causing him some ache or jolt of pain. Then he brushed his fingers through his hair. It had gotten so long, but he couldn’t cut it without permission. He tied up the sides with a leather strap to keep it out of his face. 

He slipped out of the room and down the hall towards the tavern. He could hear the crowd and live music before he entered. It was busy tonight, which means he would have to work longer. Hopefully, Rufus was in a good mood and would give him food to help tide him over until his next customer. Asa walked straight to the bar, leaning over it as he waited patiently for Rufus to notice him. It didn’t take long. “That’s a new record, kid,” The man said, grinning down at him. He passed Asa a water goblet, but his hand was outstretched expectantly. Like a good little worker, he turned over the gold in his possession. 

A man walked behind Asa, sliding his hand up his tunic, tracing along his skin. “How much?” 

Rufus cleared his throat, eyes narrowed at the man. People were allowed to touch, but none ever did it so brazenly in front of Rufus without any offer. “He’s on break.” 

Asa turned towards the man, the rest of the tavern unconcerned and unbothered by the tense situation building. “And too expensive. Move on.” 

“Well, well, well,” The man said loudly, slapping Asa’ ass before squeezing his cheek tightly. “The expensive ones are always mouthy. Spoiled too and usually just a waste of time.” 

“Yet here you are trying to fuck me.” Asa snapped back, reaching towards the man and grabbing his hand. He twisted, with strength he didn’t realize he even had, until the man cried out and yanked out of his grasp. “My boss said move on.” And then the man did, red in the face, and furious, but without much of a fight. Asa turned back to Rufus, smiling sweetly at him. “Can I get some fruit along with this water or what?” 

Everett placed his hand over Colter’s, lacing their fingers. “I don’t know if I would say there is anything specific about this place I like. The food and drinks are decent, and Rufus is willing to look the other way.” Everett shrugged, leaning back in his chair. “It’s fun, entertaining, and he employs the best of the best. That’s enough for me.” A raised voice filled the tavern, and Everett looked over to the bar, seeing one of Rufus’s face off with a drunk customer. He was too far away to see which worker it was, but Everett didn’t recognize him just by his body. Maybe it’s the new one. The man walked away, shaking mad and muttering angrily to himself. “I mean, see that! Where would you ever see a tavern whore tell off a customer for wanting his dick sucked? You only can see that shit at Rufus’ place.” 

He focused back on his drink, taking the wine slowly and relishing its taste. “I suppose it’s also the freedom from court. I love being at court, don’t get me wrong, but I don’t like the rules. We’re figures for the Kingdom, yes, but we’re also humans with human desires. I hate that the council wants to pretend we’re not. Why can’t we make bad decisions sometimes? How else are we supposed to learn? Plus, it’s good to get some of our energy out. Don’t you agree?”

Every thing about this place made Colter's very essence itch. For Everett having such expensive tastes, he could never understand how a place like this would tickle his fancy in the slightest. But he thought back to the first time they entered in here and how he seemed to command this place as if he ruled it. It was then that Colter glanced back towards the bar to get a look at his partner. He'd fallen victim to underestimating this one before and he couldn't afford for that to happen now. Be like August. Control. Calm. August.

His ass hit the chair and his eyes were open. Colter took in every thing about this place. Everything he thought might be relevant later on or now. It was much more difficult to do than he'd anticipated but clinging to his love was starting to work. The woman by the door had dirty blonde hair and at least three pence in her bosom pocket and another two in her actual coin purse. Clever woman. But all his attention turned the moment Everett came to join him again.

He had to admit as he took in a deep inhale of the draft he was a little more excited about all of this. He wouldn't lose his head. Couldn't do it. Too much was riding on it. So he opted for a small but deep drink from his glass and he in turned returned the smile that seemed to be dancing on Everett's lips. "I always forget how it feels." He admitted. Because the truth of it was, he hadn't gone out all that often. So nearly every time felt like the first time and it made it all the more dangerous. His lips pulled into a deeper smile and he sighed, leaning in to his companion all the more. "Sort of like those song birds father keeps in the west gardens." His fingers mindlessly began to stroke the length of his goblet as he spoke. "Always just out for viewing and never allowed to nest or freely go calling."

Colter shifted in his seat, making sure to press their thighs together and move his hand along his thigh just ever so. The sensation sent a chill up his spine and the prince bit his lip before bringing the goblet up to mask it. Try as he might, Colter did still enjoy Everett. That would never change. As a friend and lover. Their ease in which they moved between the two always had been a wonder to him. But now that Colter was beginning to see Everett as he was. As August had always tried to get him to do, it was still impressive. I might be able to learn a thing or two yet. There was no telling what he'd truly gotten up to in his time away but it was clearly well spent.

"What is it about this place that you enjoy so much?" He figured if there was any shot at getting Everett to open up, he might want to show him that he'd been paying attention to him. That was something he'd always been bad at, been working on and now that he had the opportunity, the difference it could make? Well, he only hoped as selfish as it was, it worked and put him that much closer to his goal. The prince pulled his goblet in and took a deep drink, humming softly in delight at the sweetness of it. "Or is it just the freedom from court?" Colter knew why he liked being out but Everett wasn't confined to the extent the crowned prince had been and even more so when August had say so in it.

Could he somehow balance both though?

[goldenboywrites]

Quintus lingered at the bar, merely seconds after Cesare and Max pulled away from it, from the bartender. He eyed the man wearily, trying to see what Cesare saw in the man. Something if they spent time together, if he looked forward to seeing Cesare enter the bar. It was annoying how good-looking he was. His smile beamed as he filled up glass after glass with various types of liquid. The man passed off the drinks he had finished and caught Quin’s gaze. He raised a brow, as if to nonverbally ask if Quin needed something else. Quin smiled sweetly, bringing his hand up to beckon to his mouth. “You have a little something in your teeth,” He said over the music. “Just thought you should know.” 

He followed after Cesare and Max, slipping into an empty chair next to his brother, Cesare sitting in front of him. Quin did not hesitate when a shot was passed to him. He merely eyed it with slight disdain, then tossed it back, without looking deeply at what it was. It wasn’t like he would be able to identify the shot anyway. 

“Well, that you’re back for now,” Max corrected Cesare’s words, bumping Quin with his elbow. “God, can you imagine if you did come back for good? There probably would be a murder.” Max laughed, tossing his head back, and took another shot. “But he’s right. You are missed , and you can come back and visit whenever you want. If you decide you want to.”

Quin looked back and forth between his brother and Cesare, eyes narrowed as he tried to figure out their different angles. He would have expected their roles to be flipped. For Max to push him to stay, and for Cesare to be indifferent to whatever decision he made. This was something different. Something he hadn’t anticipated, and Quin wasn’t able to figure out what their endgame was with this. Instead, he swiped another shot from the tray and took it, hiding the face he wanted to make as the liquid slid down his throat. Fuck, he hated alcohol. Nothing was remotely pleasant about the burn. 

“Pssh, Cesare, please,” Max continued, waving his best friend off. “You don’t have to be all shy about it now that Quin is here. He really doesn’t care that you like men. He used to-” Quin leaned over towards his brother, shoving a drink up to his mouth and tipping the glass up and forcing the liquid in his mouth. 

“Do you ever shut the fuck up?” He hissed, glaring at his brother’s shaking head. “I didn’t think so, but you need to learn how to someday.” Quin settled back in his seat, tracing the rim of the empty shot glass in front of him. “If Cesare wants to slum it with bartenders,” He paused, reaching forward for another shot. Quin brought it to his lips, looking across the table directly at Cesare.  He took the shot with ease. Why was each one easier to swallow than the previous one? “That’s his business.” His grin was lethal. “My advice? I hope you use protection.” Quin tilted his head, eyes scanning around the bar. “I highly doubt you’re the only one he’s bending over for around here.”

Cesare's gaze drifted after Max but soon found his attention back on their friend. "Of course." He mused, leaning forward ever so on the bar. "I brought the goods tonight. If it's to be believed you might actually feel like jelly this time and not like the last time." He couldn't help the shiver that ran down his spine at the one bad sack he'd come across in his dealings here at the bar. Though sometimes that couldn't be helped. Dealer's choice if you would. This wasn't a habit the pair of them shared but every now and then he liked to surprise Carter with a little something. And it was only then that he'd really realized how it would look to anyone other than them. But until now, that hadn't had to be a concern. "Same spot?" One of the idiots next to him was growing impatient and by the look on that one's face, Cesare was already in the know.

It had occurred to him that he didn't have to head back to the table but he also didn't want to hear it from Max anymore than he'd already laid it on. More than anything he wanted to see Quin before he completely exploded from ... well, everything. And so he found himself bobbing through the bodies and even dancing a little to the music himself. This was a good place, a good energy and pretty decent people. A part of him wanted Quin to enjoy it too but as he approached the table, that dagger look in his eyes. Here ... we ... go ...

Cesare slid in next to Max and immediately took one of the shots on the tray. A green tea. Thank the gods for that man some times. Cesare ushered one shot for Max and the other for Quin, avoiding any gaze from the younger of the two. Perhaps if they just drank enough all could be forgiven in time. It was a fool's wish but he clung to it nonetheless. The other two took the shots, Max more enthusiastically and they held them up, Quin following reluctantly.

"It's been a while." He started, projecting his voice so the pair could hear him over the thumping of the bass. "Been a while but it's good to have us all back together. Good to see we've all grown up and not killed one another." He chuckled a bit at that but quickly recovered. "I'm just really happy to be out with you both. And Quin," He paused, looking directly at him in that moment. "I'm really glad you're back. You've been very missed." He didn't give Max the chance to join in and instead clanked all their glasses together and quickly threw back his own shot.

Cesare's hand shot out for one of the shorter glasses on the tray, whiskey by the looks of it and chased the sweet goodness down. He drew in a deep breath through pursed lips as the glass left his lips and the burn from the alcohol started to sink in fully. He'd thought to say to Max about who was driving later but he imagined they could figure that out before it was too late into their night. Just relax for right now. "And now that I've gone all sappy," His gaze drifted from the table towards Max. "Why exactly are you tossing me aside like chopped liver? Afraid Quin will like my company more than yours? His own brother?" He dared not to smile as widely as he wanted to at that but still.

[goldenboywrites]

Iggy clung to Julius as the prince helped him off the floor and into the chair. It wasn’t so much that he knew what the collar was, but the feeling he got from it. He had been able to sense its power and see that it would negate his magical abilities. Items with this ability were common in the kingdom as they were the only way to keep magical beings in line, truly. But then he was pulled from his racing thoughts when the prince’s hand settled on the center of his chest. Iggy inhaled sharply, his gaze finding Julius’. His heart and body yearned for more contact, and then he received it. The prince’s hands cupped his cheeks, and the wizard settled into the touch. 

“I’m unable to reach my magic while it’s on me. Similar to the chains, except that only another wizard can take this off. There is no lock and key for it.” He gestured towards the cold gold around his neck. “And before you ask, you won’t be able to break it or cut it off.” Iggy sighed, rubbing his cheek against Julius’s palm; the warmth soothed his soul. “And if you put him in a similar collar, he’ll be unable to remove mine, which is probably why they did this. He knows you can’t collar him back.” 

“It doesn’t hurt,” Iggy continued after a moment, turning his head slightly without losing Julius’ grip to look at the wine staining the floor. “They won’t do anything too drastic to me when it may hurt you, but it’s like,” He paused again, staring over the prince’s shoulder as he tried his best to explain the feeling. “It’s like losing a limb. It’s not there anymore, but you still feel it. You go to use it and realize it’s no longer available to you.” If he couldn’t reach his magic, he wouldn’t be able to protect the prince. If they leave it on him until their bonding ritual, he won’t be able to train. Iggy leaned back in the chair, out of Julius’ grip, and waved his hand, attempting to call out his grimoire, but the book did not appear. Nothing happened. It was the first time in his life that Ignatius felt ordinary, just a regular human being. After being able to do what he was capable of, it was a horrible feeling. 

Ordinary. Iggy frowned. He had always been extraordinary. 

“Your father and his wizard will contact the Academy to confirm that I was trained there.” Iggy wrung his hands nervously, glancing at Julius before looking down again. “But I wasn’t.. It wasn’t bad, but when I got to the Academy and they saw the mark, they knew who I was and sent me somewhere else to train. It’s against their sacred duty to do such a thing, but they knew I would be your wizard, and they wanted me to learn outside of the Academy. I wouldn’t have gotten the training I needed to be what you’ll need me to be at the Academy. They were also fearful of my safety. If the other students saw my mark, they may have targeted me to take me out and free up the position. I don’t know what your father will do to me when he finds out.”

Julius shot to his feet at the man's words. His glass of wine shattering on the floor but the sound didn't reach his ears. Mostly because of how enraged the prince had become at the simple action of his father's wizard. He'd given him a direct order and he'd been disregarded as if the command had never left his lips. Perhaps that was his own ego but he realized he wasn't upset for himself but rather for Iggy. He thought of this man before himself. Not that that would have been odd but not knowing him and nearly being at one another's necks for the better part of the day didn't sound like the sort of behavior to illicit this sort of reaction on the injustices being administered to him.

The feel of rage filling every part of him was enough to send the prince into a full on fit. What sort of fit he couldn't be sure of but he'd never cared for that man, now? He detested every fiber of his being and he found himself hoping that what Iggy had eluded to was still true. "I'll be sure to have a matching one for you tomorrow. Can't have any mishaps." He shouted as the coward of a man left. Though Julius did note that he saw a slight shiver. And if nothing else that was enough to draw a slight smile. He may have only been the prince but he'd developed a reputation of following through on his promises. His father may trust him but Julius had no reason to before and even less now.

His attention whipped back to Iggy upon hearing his voice and he was at his side nearly as fast. Whatever that blasted thing was he hated it, it seemed to suck all of the life out of him. While he wasn't entirely sure he was opposed to the less cranky version of Iggy, it wasn't right. The magic was his and it shouldn't have been taken from him in such a manner. Especially because of who he was. And it was in that moment that he realized what Iggy had meant from the moment they laid eyes on each other. And how he was the crown. He is the crown and the embodiment of hope for the people he ruled. He had thought of Iggy as his property and not a person. It was only because of that that he knew there was more to what he'd been trying to say before. There wasn't time to dwell on that. The prince had his arms around Iggy and he hoisted him into the seat he'd just occupied.

Julius crouched down in front of him, feeling sick at the sight of the gold now wrapped around his throat. It felt hideous, wrong. Whatever was in that thing was unnatural and itching to get out of there. He brought his hand up to touch the metal but something stopped him and instead his gaze found Iggy's. He didn't know what to say. There truly wasn't anything that would have made it better or even manageable but this was ridiculous. To ask to see that mark didn't sit right with him and if this was the price for it then he'd have to find a way to share it. They were a pair now, weren't they? Wouldn't his father insist he only be allowed what his ally is?

"I'm fairly certain he hates himself as much as the rest of us." That wasn't an exaggeration and if it were, Julius had hoped it to be true. He settled with letting his hand come to rest just ever so softly against Iggy's chest. He seemed okay, breathing was stable and he was conscience but he was different. "I wish we would have had more time to discuss this before ..." He directed their focus onto something else, something that he could at least do something about. The prince exhaled heavily and he brought his hands to his face, cupping both cheeks as he looked up at him. The curls on his brow framed his eyes in such a way Julius was certain they had to be rare sort of stone one only finds in their dreams. "What does that do? Do you know?" He was certain the man did from his reaction when it was first presented but he wasn't entirely sure of what the confinement this thing offered meant for him and, well, them at that moment.

[goldenboywrites]

trouble's coming

You will be going undercover to infiltrate the Silvestri family. We have been investigating this family for years now, but they’ve slipped out of our grasp time and time again. This time is different. There has been a shift in power. They are weak and vulnerable, and their guard is down. 

Milo bent down, tying his dress shoes. He stood from his bed and slipped on his shirt, a soft lilac purple button-down. He tucked the ends into his pants and walked in front of the mirror, twisting and turning to see every inch of his body. 

In the last month, the Silvestri heir has taken over the family business after his father’s passing. This is our only opportunity to get someone into their circle. He will test the inner circle, seeing if their loyalties will shift from his father to him. This means there will be openings. He will want to ensure the people closest to him are loyal to him. We will not have another opportunity to get someone on the inside. 

The mansion didn’t seem to be intimidating now that his father was dead. It was quiet. Milo didn’t have to sneak around anymore, fearful of whatever kind of mood his father was in. This was his house now. He made the calls now, people flocked to impress him, he owned the businesses, and nothing was out of his reach. He felt like a King, sitting on a throne of fucking money. This empire that his father had built now belonged to him. His father was rolling over in his grave, knowing that he had died and left it all to Milo. Good. May he rot in pieces. 

There is a deal going down today. A team will go with you to intercept the runner. Once the runner is handled, you’ll be on your own. Take what he is transporting and meet with Lorenzo at this restaurant. Your goal today is to impress him, intrigue him, and show him you could be an asset, and hopefully, he will take the bait and keep you around. While we wait to collect evidence of what his family is doing, it is more than that. Someone else owns this family. We need someone deep undercover to determine who. 

The car was waiting for him outside, and he slipped inside. The ride was quick, and he was grateful that his driver didn’t try to make small talk with him. He had taken meetings before, so this was nothing new, but a part of him was still adjusting to taking over for his father. There was just so much to handle. The actual businesses he had to run seemed never-ending, from bars to nightclubs to restaurants. Then, there were the criminal activities behind the scenes at each real business. His phone was constantly pinging over and over again. He was hardly able to sleep. Someone needed something from him day in and day out. 

But he loved it because it wasn’t his father’s kingdom anymore. 

Whatever you do… 

He arrived at the restaurant, a popular Italian place his family owned. He was ushered into a private room in the back, which was now reserved for him at all times. Milo’s ass barely hit the table before plates of various dishes were placed on the table. He scanned the different meals and realized they were trying to figure out what he liked so they could prepare it anytime he stepped through the doors. A wave of his hand and a glass of white wine was poured for him. Milo grabbed his wine glass and swirled it once, twice, three times, then lazily tilted his head towards the waiter. “Please send my guest directly to me,” He said in a lazy drawl. The food looked and smelled heavenly, but he refused to eat. He wouldn’t allow him to know him or anticipate anything about him. Not yet. He was still too fresh. “You’re excused,” He said again with a second wave of his hand. Milo had just received all of this money and power. He wasn’t letting it slip through his fingers to easily. 

Don’t get caught.

@magiclwritings

[goldenboywrites]

You find me lying on your bed and think I'm dressed up for him?

Quintus was relieved to see Max bounce through the door. He needed that distraction for his heart to start beating again. It pounded relentlessly against his ribcage like it could break free and bury itself into Cesare’s chest, right next to his own heart. 

And he hated it. 

He threw himself into the passenger’s seat, flicked on the radio, and turned the volume up until the car was filled with only music. He didn’t want to hear them talking or want them to have the opportunity to speak to him. He needed to think, needed to decompress. Cesare was toying with him, and Quin couldn’t figure out why. Was it a cruel prank on him? Had Max informed Cesare that before Quin had left, he had loved him? Maybe Cesare missed little Quin following him around like a yapping puppy and wanted that attention again. It had to be that. Quin didn’t get what he wanted. The universe wasn’t kind to him. It had to be a game. 

He glanced towards the sideview mirror and immediately met Cesare’s gaze. His eyes scanned over his angles, the complex curve of his jaw. He looked at the softness of his eyes. He had always looked at Quin warmly and still saw that now. What are you doing? He wanted to ask. He wanted to know the rules of this game between them. He tried to stop worrying that Cesare was throwing himself at Quin because he thought that was the only reason he’d stay. Quin knew Cesare would make that sacrifice for Max. There was nothing he wouldn’t do for Max.

The drive was long but felt quick. Quin had been so lost in his thoughts that he hadn’t realized until they parked that they had arrived. The sun had set by now, and whatever club they were, he had missed its name, but it was swarming with people, and Quin hated it on sight. They exited the car, Max and Cesare walking in front and Quin lagging. Some things didn’t change, but Quin didn’t mind much this time. He preferred it this way. It was their night out anyway; he was just here because they wanted to keep an eye on him. Probably scared he’d bolt if they didn’t keep him plastered to their sides. 

Cesare and Max were so well known here that they were ushered inside despite the line outside. Quin rolled his eyes heavily as they were greeted and ushered inside. There was pounding music, the lights were down low, and crowds were on the dance floor, at the bar, and at the surrounding tables. They stopped at the bar first, pushing their way towards the bartender. Quin was pushed between them both. He leaned forward against his arms while Max blew a sharp whistle between his lips to get his attention. 

The man who turned around was annoyingly handsome. He had strawberry blond curls, green eyes, and a beaming smile that only grew when his gaze fell on Cesare. He swaggered over to them and reached out, touching Cesare’s hand in greeting. “Back so soon?” He smirked, throwing a rag over his shoulder. “And who is this?” He asked, once he tore his gaze away from Cesare and found Quin. “You guys don’t usually bring strangers.”

Quin didn’t bother introducing himself, but Max, ever the friendly golden retriever, laughed and clasped a hand on Quin’s shoulder. “This is Quin—my little brother. Well, I guess since Cesare grew up with us, he’s like Cesare’s little brother, too. He’s just visiting us in town for a few days, then our trips here will return to normal with just us.” Quin’s body tensed, fingers gripping the bar's edge as he forced himself not to react. Max was just telling the truth. Nothing about it was a lie. He wasn’t upset about his brother’s words, not one bit. “And don’t worry. Cesare will still be free to hang out with you on your break tonight. Quin and I have to catch up on some things.” He turned his head, looking up at Cesare. You find me lying on your bed and think I'm dressed up for him? “Just the usual for us tonight. Quin isn’t a drinker.” 

He bit hard on the inside of his cheek and shook himself out of his thoughts. His head snapped forward again and he smiled at Cesare’s fuckboy, a sickening sweet smile. “Actually, I would love a drink.”

“Sure,” The bartender nodded and started to get to work. He worked on filling a tray for them—various mixed drinks and shots.  Once the tray was complete, he passed it off to Max and then turned back to Cesare, biting his bottom lip once he held his gaze. “So, I’ll see you in about half an hour?”

The rest of that beer was gone the moment Max left his room. It was impossible to decide how to handle any of this. Especially with Max and just trying to get him to understand that perhaps his brother hand made his choice already. Quintus was stubborn as hell and did very little to change when he didn't want it. Cesare couldn't see a way to make that change now but perhaps there was a bit of hope. Maybe now it was just the two of them. He hated himself for thinking that because it was selfish and true. But more selfish than anything else. A belch escaped his lips as he looked himself over in the mirror, fixing his somewhat unruly curls into place. Cesare sighed at himself and was quick to grab his leather jacket before exiting his room.

Quin's door was slightly open, meaning he was already ready and roaming. A shiver of panic hit him for a second thinking he may have bolted already but he couldn't think that. He had to give him the benefit of the doubt, Quin had always done that for him. Instead he made his way down to the kitchen, ensuring everything was off and put away before he'd seen the shadow slowly moving from window to window and that was when he'd found him. He hated that his heart gave what felt like a sigh of relief to that revelation but he moved to join him despite it.

Does he ever stop?

Cesare smiled as he fidgeted with the button on his wrist and loosened it to the second as the other one already had been. He couldn't remember the last time he'd worn it but it truly didn't matter. That smile turned upward to find Quin staring daggers at him. He wanted to be petty. Wanted to really just let Quin think that there really was something going on between him and the bartender. That they'd fuck regularly and had no intentions of splitting up on that account. That it was just so damn hot and heavy every time they got within five feet of each other but his need to hurt Quintus like he'd hurt him just couldn't do it. And all at once it deflated into a simple chuckle.

Cesare crossed the breezeway until he was standing before the object of his current frustration. "You find me laying on your bed and you think I'm dressed up for him?" He asked smoothly, leaving nothing but the sound of the swing between them when he heard Max coming down the stairs. Thank the gods he could never be quiet in this instance. "You're free to believe what you'd like to, Quin, I won't stop you." He finally fastened the button and shook out his sleeve to the proper length, his brown leather jacket coming to to cover over the material. "But I wouldn't be so fast with certain assumptions." Cesare bent down until they were damn near as close as they were in the kitchen before his brother came in and ruined it all. "Especially now that you're back."

As if he had rehearsed it, Cesare pulled back from Quin as Max came to join them. And the only thought in his brain was how he wished he'd been faster and gotten a taste of those lips before the interruption. "'Bout time!" His grin spread and he turned on his heel to greet Max, straightening out his shirt at first and they both playfully fixed up one another, tapping each other's cheeks affectionately until they were satisfied they'd annoyed Quin further. "You're driving." He wiped around to look at Quintus still sitting there somewhat flushed. Cesare wondered briefly it was frustration of the good kind or if he'd truly pissed him off with his little stunts. "I'll sit behind. Let you have radio privileges but it better be good."

Cesare was doing his best to keep up his energy because once they got the bar he could only pray tonight was the night they were off. But knowing his luck, Quintus would find this even more of a challenge. "Vamanos!" He hollered, thrusting the keys into Max's hand and he hurried down before the pair to situate himself.

[goldenboywrites]

He watched from the room's far end as the prince stepped up in his defense. Ignatius allowed it, if only to see how far Julius would take it, and he wasn’t disappointed. The prince was quick-witted and commanding with his words. In another life, where Iggy wasn’t here to do what needed to be done, they could have been powerful rulers. But he couldn’t allow himself to fall under the prince’s charms. He may be willing to defend Ignatius now, but things would change once he genuinely saw the power he could wield through his wizard. Humans have always been greedy, and Julius would be the same. 

Grabbing the wine and a goblet, Ignatius made his way over to the prince. He poured the wine for Julius, handing the now-filled goblet off to the prince. He felt their bond grow warm with approval due to their closeness and the small act of care Ignatius showed the prince by doing something for him. It was as irritating as it was soothing. He set the wine down and stood behind Julius, his hand resting on the chair's frame, his fingertips gently brushing the prince’s clothing. 

The King’s wizard watched the two of them closely. He was surprised how they orbited each other so quickly upon meeting. The history of the mating bond must be more accurate than they ever realized, which meant his work was more important now. The wizard and the King were the only ones who knew the true prophecy of how wizards came to be and how humans came into power in the beautiful country they promised to protect from the greed of magic. Now that the mating bond was activated and here, it was all the more important to fight for their world. Time was running out. 

He opened the box and turned it so the prince and his wizard could see what was inside. “No,” the prince’s wizard hissed, stepping back from the prince. 

“It’s straightforward and very necessary,” He explained, eyes flickering back towards the prince. He allowed the prince’s wizard to have his moment; his back was turned from them as he processed. “It has been centuries since we’ve seen a mating mark, and we must take precautions. Your father and I agree.” He paused, gesturing to the golden collar in the box. “Will suffice for now. It will neutralize your wizard’s magic until the bond is cemented. Only then will we allow it to come off. By then, we will have received word from the Academy regarding your wizard’s studies, and we can test his abilities.”

Iggy had tuned the King’s wizard out. After seeing the collar, he didn’t need any additional information. He already knew what it was. Victor had warned him of this; they had planned for this to happen. Fighting it would only lead to more distrust between him and the council members. And while he hated being vulnerable and without magic, there wasn’t a way out of this that painted him in a good light. The more significant concern was the magical wards he had to protect his mind from others. He couldn’t hide his memories or thoughts from the wizard’s magic without his magic. He dug deep into his pockets, procuring a bundle of herbs. A parting gift from Victor. Before their attention was back on him, he mouthed an incantation and stuck the herbs in his mouth. He chewed slowly, feeling the magic course through his body. 

He didn’t try to hold on to his memories. He let them go. Gone from his mind was ever meeting Victor, training with the rebels, and his mission, his life. It was almost a relief to be a blank slate, no longer worrying about living a double life or having the burden of the rebellion on his shoulders. Iggy turned to face the room; he stepped back to Julius’ side. The prince’s face was furrowed with fury, and Iggy’s heart warmed at the notion. His prince was truly a fighter, a natural protector, and they were each other’s. He was lucky to be fated to such a man. “I’ve complied with every directive since I’ve arrived. I don’t see the need for this. Shouldn’t I get to prove myself to the crown before my very being is withheld from me?” 

The wizard’s gaze flickered over to him, and Iggy noted the slight shake of his head. The man snapped his fingers, and Ignatius fell to his knees. His limbs felt overloaded, and gravity pulled him down to the floor. He fought against the magic but couldn’t move his arms to cast. “No,” the man said, leaning forward and picking up the collar. Iggy felt the moment it activated, hand it ummed to life with magic. It flew from the wizard’s hand, quick as lightning, and latched onto his neck, clicking into place. Iggy felt his magic slip away, hide deep within himself. He couldn’t feel it, couldn’t call out to it. It was like his limb had been cut off. Like he had lost half of himself. He whimpered, falling entirely to the floor, wrapping his arms around his chest. 

The wizard stood, bowing profoundly before the prince. “Now that that is done, the King has scheduled the council for a meeting in the morning to discuss the next steps. He wanted me to ensure you both were present.” And he left, stepping over Iggy’s curled body before exiting the room. 

“Julius,” Iggy whimpered from the ground. Weakly, he reached up, catching the arm of the chair. He pulled himself up, taking a moment to rest his forehead against the side of the chair. Iggy inhaled slowly, trying to breathe around the hollowness in his chest. He knew he couldn’t stand right away, knew his legs would give out. So he stayed put, breathing in and out until the nausea subsided. “I hate that man.”

There were few things in this world that he enjoyed, being in this man's presences was not one of them. And even less so now that he was actively interrupting the most productive conversation he and his wizard had had all damn day. But he sat quietly, watching the two of them sizing one another up. He had to admit it was quite comical. To Iggy perhaps not so, but to anyone that knew this rigid corpse of a man, they'd find the humor too. His tongue ran against the back of his teeth as the tension wafted over him and the rest of the room. Damn near thick enough for a blade to go through if it should come down to it.

Julius followed his movements, watching carefully the man's protections over whatever was in that damn box. It was almost fear inducing to see him with such an ominous object. It wouldn't have been the first time he'd come to Julius with a hair brained idea that never resulted in anything pleasant for the prince. Upon his request, the prince's gaze slid from his father's wizard to his own and back again. Surely he couldn't be asking what he was asking at that moment. It seemed absolutely ludicrous to even consider something like that in that moment. And not to mention, he'd already exposed himself for Julius in the dungeons not that long ago.

"You don't have it." Julius said firmly without taking any coaching from Iggy. Not because he needed it but because he was starting to realize that that bond was not a joke. That none of this was a joke and that pull he felt from his navel to his heart and beyond, was not something for everyone to be putting their fingers all over and in. The prince licked his lips, scooting to sit at attention on the edge of his seat. "I've seen it as well as a fair few others." He could feel the heat in his cheeks and wondered briefly if that was his own or for the man standing opposite him. "He's come of his own free will and I won't subject him to scrutiny he hasn't brought on by his own actions. Being born who you are does not make you anything other than a person. And a person you will treat him like."

Julius knew there'd be a discussion with his father later on about protocols and respect of the royal wizard but he couldn't care less in that moment. He cleared his throat feeling the onslaught of condescending coos, he'd divert that for someone it would work on. "I do believe that he asked you a question." His hands rubbed over one another and rather than let this little worm wiggle out of much more he pointed towards it and then to the table between. "I will give you permission to show the both of us what is in that box that you've come all this way to deliever." He gestured out for Iggy to come to him. "Bring the wine with you." He told him, not bothering to say please because while he was defending his wizard, there was a level of power he was going to maintain while that man was in their presence. He could only hope that he wouldn't be judged too harshly for acting as coldly as this. Matters of survival. "You may also address him as Ignatius. He'll soon be your replacement. I suppose a first names would be allowed in this instance."

[goldenboywrites]

Dinner. Marcus didn’t want to leave. He hated it when the castle was empty. It felt too large and intimidating when it was just the professors and prefects, and if there was one thing Marcus hated most, it was being alone. It was when he felt at his weakest, his most impulsive. The last thing he wanted tonight was to return to the Slytherin dorms. But should he stay here? It was getting harder and harder to remind himself that Nikolai was staff because he felt like a student. Marcus was already pushing it by coming up here. He’d be in trouble if caught in the teacher’s quarters.

But on the other hand, he was already in here, and he was hungry. 

“It’s pretty much a free-for-all until all of the student body returns tomorrow,” Marcus replied, bringing the cup up and taking a sip. He would have to remember to start adding a dash of cinnamon to his tea going forward because it was good. “I can take you down to the kitchens if you want, but the house-elves can get a bit territorial, especially with tomorrow's feast. But you can call up a house-elf here and get whatever ingredients you need to cook in your rooms. All the professors have that option if they don’t feel like going down to the Great Hall.” 

He pressed his arms against the table and leaned forward, studying Nikolai quietly. “What would you make me?” He asked, a gleam in his eyes. Marcus didn’t know much about Russian cuisine, but knew he would trust Nikolai to make him something good. He had been right about the tea, so Marcus trusted him to feed him something good. And he was curious about the world around him, which he rarely scratched the surface of. Trying something new and finding something new intrigued him to no end. “I’m up for anything.” He bit at his bottom lip, shrugging his shoulders innocently. “I trust you.”

Nikolai had been rather impressed by this young man today. Actually a little bit more than impressed if he was truly being honest. The way he carried himself and the manner in which they held conversation. And perhaps it was just the newness of it all but this truly was one of the better afternoons he'd had in a while. It was all in part to the man before him. With those blue he just couldn't seem to stop looking into since they'd gotten back from the lake. His lips slid over one another with ease after he'd taken in his drink of tea. A faint sense of home for just a moment. Even though those were always bittersweet to say the least.

While Marcus prepared his own cup of tea, Nik took the time to think about what he'd said before. About something feeling as if they were supposed to meet. And while he couldn't say he felt that strongly of a notion towards it, he couldn't say he didn't either. If he were being perfectly honest, Marcus confused him in a number of ways. More so in ways he knew weren't going to end well for him should he visit those sorts of thoughts. But still it stood to reason that he could ... look. It wasn't illegal and it wasn't as if he were truly a child and Nik some disgusting old man. There were a few years at best between them and well ... Stop. Nik took another sip of his cup and found himself needing to step over that imaginary line.

"I agree." He finally said, deciding that perhaps letting that door close completely close. After all, there would be an after Hogwarts for them both, right? "I feel like more times than not there are many, many reasons why people are placed into your life." He was starting to sound like Grigor but sometimes that wasn't always a bad thing. His pack was a source of strength and even wisdom when they weren't fucking morons. Which was most of the time. His fingers found the tea spoon and he gave another swirl to his cup. Now it was absolutely perfect. A soft sigh of contentment left his lips as he took in another drink.

"I'm going to go out on a limb and assume it's just going to be the two of us for supper tonight as well." Nik sat back, his leg swinging over his other and he relaxed into his own seat, carefully watching the man before him. "What's the possibilities we'd be allowed to cook for ourselves?" He smiled a bit more confidently. "I don't know how you'd feel about traditional Russian cuisine but I might be able to whip something up you'd like." His smile grew just then at the vision of this in his head. "If you'd want to that is."

[goldenboywrites]

Truthfully, Iggy wasn’t sure what kind of answer he expected from Julius, but it was a relief that he had thought about it. There was truth in Julius’ answer; Iggy saw it. It was also realistic. Julius may wish to change things when he’s King, but that didn’t mean he could. There were traditions in place, and people in court could stop him if they didn’t like his ideas. And that was why, as much as he wanted to believe in Julius’s’ vision, Iggy couldn’t let his guard down around him. Wanting changes to things and changing things were two different things. 

He opened his mouth to reply, but an alarm went off in his head. Iggy could feel a magical presence at the door to the prince’s quarters. “Someone is coming,” He said, eyes flickering to the door just as it opened. Iggy had never met the King’s wizard face to face, but he could easily read a magical aura and knew who the man was as he stepped into the prince’s room. What shocked him was how easily the man walked into the prince’s quarters as if they were his own. It was telling. Not even the prince’s quarters were safe. Iggy would have to remember that. “I think you have the wrong room,” Iggy said firmly, on high alert around this stranger. It felt like a boundary had been crossed, and he didn’t know what to expect from this man, but some feeling in his chest told him it wasn’t good. “Do you also step into the King’s quarters so casually?” 

“Not usually,” The man replied, stopping as he came between the two of them. Iggy noted there was a box under his arm. “The King wished for me to check in on the prince and to verify the authenticity of your mark while we wait on word from the Academy.” 

Iggy scoffed, waving the man off. “I’m not showing you our mark. It’s ours, and it’s sacred. It is not going to become a public attraction. If you were sent for that, then ask the prince, read his signature to confirm there is no magic influencing him, and you’ll have your answer.” There was something about that box. Iggy’s eyes barely left it. The wizard’s gaze followed his, and he moved the box in front of him, in view of all of them. “What’s in the box?” Iggy stood up from his chair, slowly making his way towards the drink cart that held a pitcher of water. He poured himself a goblet and took a sip, his eyes never leaving the wizard. 

“The guards said you were a feral little thing,” The man replied smoothly, moving to occupy the seat Iggy had left empty. “Until we hear back from the Academy and until the bond ceremony is organized, the King and I agree that this…” He tapped the top of the box. “Is necessary.” The wizard leaned back in his seat, crossing his leg over his knee. His gaze shifted from Iggy to the prince, and he smiled at the young man. “But before we get into that, Prince Julius, I need you to understand that I must see the mark. It could be fraudulent, and I am the only one who will be able to confirm if this is truly your wizard or not. Please give me your permission.”

The air had been sucked out of the room and his mouth had gone completely dry. At least that was what it had felt like when Iggy finally asked him that set of questions. Because up until then there hadn't been a moment when someone had ever asked him that. It had never been about him. It was always about the kingdom and the continuation of traditions. He had never for a moment stopped to consider that his actual wants were a part of it. That's not true.

He was certain that he looked crazed sitting there staring at his confidant. His wizard. Because wasn't he apart of this whole thing he was asking? Julius had an inkling what he was looking for him to say but he wasn't entirely sure that that was something he would do away with. Perhaps there could be revision in the bond and the clauses around it but that was one thing that was ingrained in to him from a young age. Wizards were an asset to the King and the kingdom. And the same could be said for them. He knew that to be true as well.

"That's a loaded question." He finally decided because the silence between them was getting uncomfortable. And, if for nothing else it was at least the truth. Iggy knew that and asked it either way, knowing there would be lee way for him to still find error in his thought process but he was damned either way at this point. The prince drew in a deep breath and continued towards what felt like a cliff's edge. "I can say that I'd rid the kingdom of poverty and hunger with better work options provided but then the workers would have more one their plates. And others would have to take up that work as well." He sat forward, letting his elbows rest upon his knees as he took in his wizard. His wizard. That made his stomach churn in a way he wasn't sure could be considered either happy or upset. "I can tax everyone until their blue in the face and give back to the kingdom in every conceivable way but those losing out on coin would never shut up about." The thought alone was enough to induce a headache of epic proportions.

Julius took a moment to study his face but he already knew his answer was severely lacking and he'd pay for it ten fold. "What I would like is to put everyone equally." The prince licked his lips and braced his elbows to his knees. It felt the proper move to do since this was possibly the most vulnerable thought he'd allow out to another living soul. "I have never thought a merchant should live better than the maid he pays mere scraps to." He felt something in him shift just then. He couldn't be sure if it was that bond they'd been dancing around or just some kind of conscience finally able to be freed coming out, but it felt right. "And I haven't the faintest idea of how to accomplish that." He ran a had over his mouth and he felt his shoulders sag ever so slightly because the answer was right there and he didn't want to give it after admitting to that line of thinking.

"So to answer your question, I would like to do a lot things differently." The air felt as though it had left him again and he could feel the teetering start between them. "But I'm not sure that the protocols and people that are in place and have been since before either you or I came to be would allow for it."

[goldenboywrites]

“I thought it would be a fun surprise for you,” Max whined, lightly banging his head against the headboard. “Plus, I barely had any warning. He sent me a dm on Instagram with his flight details and nothing else.” Max waved it off with a roll of his eyes. “You know how he is.” Cesare was the only other person in the world who knew Quin as well as he did. Max didn’t need to go into detail about his brother because Cesare already knew. “I guess he’s just been living without his phone for the last five years, which makes sense why he never reached out to us.” 

His eyes scanned over Cesare’s outfit choice, humming his approval even though Cesare was technically seeking his approval. The man knew which colors complemented his skin tone, and red was always a win for him. Max bit back a joke about why Cesare was dressing to impress; he didn’t want to rock the boat too much. The bed comment was already enough to get his point across. 

Max understood Cesare’s concerns surrounding his brother because they reflected his own concerns. Five years was a long time. It didn’t help that Quin had always been more reserved, introverted, and self-sufficient. It had always been a challenge to get a read on him. He didn’t like showcasing his emotions, even to Max and Cesare, if he could help it. “He just got back,” Max said, sitting up straighter and feeling an odd wave of defensiveness for his little brother. “We should give him time to settle back into this world before we assume he’s outgrown anything. He probably feels that we’ve outgrown him too, you know? Everything is different for him, and he was out of the country when our last family member passed away. At one point, he was close to our uncle, and Quin couldn’t be here to say goodbye. I think he has a lot on his shoulders, and we both know he doesn’t handle that well.” 

This time, it was going to be different. Max was determined to make Quin believe he had a place here. He’d convince him one way or another to stay. 

“Get dressed, and let’s meet downstairs in about half an hour,” He instructed as he scooted off the bed and made for the door. “Oh, and...” Max spun around, hand on the doorknob. “Make sure to wear your good cologne tonight. You know, the one the bartender likes. We’re gonna need a lot of free drinks tonight.” 

It didn’t take Quin long to get showered, dressed, styled his hair, and be ready to go. He was not looking forward to going to this club. What the fuck was Max thinking dragging him out to a place like that? Quin hated being surrounded by a crowd, he didn’t drink, and he certainly didn’t want to spend the night watching Cesare and a bartender make fucking heart eyes at each other. 

When Quin made his way downstairs, it was quiet and empty, which annoyed him. He desperately wanted to get this night over with. All he wanted was the warmth and comfort of his bed, which he had been missing for five years. If Quin was being honest, he wanted to get their financial stuff finalized, bury their uncle, and get out of there before he had to deal with anything else. Quin didn’t bother to wait for them in the kitchen; he grabbed a bottle of water and exited the house, desperate for fresh air. 

Quin would never admit it to anyone, but he had agonized over his outfit for the night. He had heard Max’s context clues loud and clear. Whatever club they were going to was a gay bar. It was one that Cesare and Max often went to so Cesare could hook up with bartenders or whatever. Well, fine. Quin could play that game just as well if he wanted to. He had settled on tight black jeans that hung low on his hips and hugged his body in all the right places—paired it off with a cream, short-sleeve, buttoned-up top that he conveniently left half unbuttoned to expose the planes of milky skin and showed hints of the black ink tattooed into his skin. His hair was washed, dried, and tousled into careless curls. The whole package of Quin, plus his ‘don’t come near me’ attitude, would be a hit at a gay bar. Guaranteed. 

He settled himself on the porch swing, one leg hugging to his chest and the other forcing the swing into motion. Quin twisted the cap off the water bottle and took a heavy gulp of it. The cool water mixed with the fresh air was doing him wonders. He was recapping the water bottle when the front door swung open, and Cesare stepped out, his eyes searching for something. Their gazes met quickly, each of them scanning the other over. Quin despised how settled he felt seeing Cesare. He hated how heated and charged it felt being alone with him. It shouldn’t still feel like this after all the years between them. Quin pushed the swing harder, feeling it reverberate as it ricocheted off the porch railing, the clanging sound filling the emptiness between them. He tilted his head to the side, raising a brow at the man. “Look at you all dressed up for your bartender boyfriend. He must be special if you put in such effort for him.”

"Has anyone ever told you that you're an insufferable and observant prick?" Cesare spouted back at Max, not caring if that pillow was about to come full force at his head. He pulled open one of his drawers and searched for a pair of socks and boxers to change into. It wasn't as if it were a secret and it definitely wasn't the first time he'd caught Cesare doing something odd where it concerns Quin. He could have just played it off as he had missed him which Max would have understood. But it just didn't feel right.

Tearing open another drawer, Cesare drew out a white undershirt and tossed the garments onto the bed at Max's feet. "He scared the shit out of me when he got in." He shot a look at his friend then and pointed at him dramatically. "That would have been a nice mention over coffee this morning." He crossed over towards his closet and sunk just barely in, flicking on the light inside. "Hey bud just in case don't get freaked out but," He started, his voice growing louder as he walked in to inspect his jeans and other hanging garments. "My long lost little brother might just come strolling in like he's back from the dead. Don't worry totally not a zombie or anything." His hands found a dark pair of denim and he was satisfied.

"So when the ghost did in fact come back to haunt, he found me laying on his bed." And he didn't care to elaborate more because if he did he knew Max was surely to start his bullshit. And if they were to get out of this house at any point before the funeral, he couldn't act like it was that weird for him to have done something like that. With a deep red button down in hand he emerged with his wardrobe choices, presenting them out to Max for inspection but not approval. He'd never really cared what he wore out but he'd been told he dressed nicely and often caught the eye of said bartender because of it. But they were always just friends. And they were always going to be just friends because of the occupant down the hall. Though he'd not known it when the two had met, Cesare had only had eyes for Quin for quite some time. A small part of him knew Max was hoping the bartender would be what got him away from that notion of him and Quin but, the heart wants what it wants. Especially his stubborn one.

Cesare bit his lip before he dared to ask Max anything because he could see he was reeling from the bits of information he was now weaving together in that brain of his. His grip on the shirt was surely going to wrinkle but he doubted anyone would notice, much less once they arrived at their destination. "It's weird seeing him. He's ... the same and not." His tongue wet both lips before he continued. "I guess I just thought ...." He sighed and instead hid his face in his clothes and found some kind of comfort in the muted darkness. "He's grown up a lot. Maybe out grown a lot too."

[goldenboywrites]

There was that shy yet genuine Albus Potter smile. Back at school, Scorpius had always thought that smile was solely reserved for him. He still felt that today since he had been around Albus and his boyfriend for a couple of hours and had failed to see Andrew make that smile bloom. It didn’t take a genius to see the cracks in the foundation of their relationship. All it took Scorpius was one conversation with Andrew and one look at Albus to see them. 

“I’d be honored, Lily,” Scorpius replied, leaning forward in his seat, chin craddling in the palm of his hand. Here was the thing about their version of truth, dare or shot. It was all or nothing. It was a ruthless game set to challenge each of them individually. It was also, ironically, how they worked all of their shit out when they were kids and at the end of the game, nothing could be held against them because it was all in the spirit of the game. Back at school, other students tried to play with them, but they rarely lasted. The little group had been far too competitive for the likes of regular people. But Scorpius liked it that way; it was all theirs.

“Truth or dare, Lily,” He asked, a smirk upon his lips. He wasn’t surprised at all when she confidently replied with dare. Lily never passed up an opportunity for a dare. Just like Rose always went for the truth. Albus was 50/50, depending on his mood and how many beverages deep he was when they started playing. Scorpius was at a disadvantage now. The three of them had been together for the past five years, he hadn’t. So, he needed to use this opportunity to get the information he had missed throughout the years. “I dare you to give the person you know the least in this bar a pig’s tail that lasts for the next 12 hours.” 

Lily giggled, bringing her hand up to cover her mouth as she mulled it over. “My, my Scorpius. Starting slow, are we?” Her eyes scanned the room, looking over everyone in the bar. Then she closed her eyes, murmuring the incantation. Minutes went by without any kind of reaction. For a second, Scorpius feared his dare had turned on him. He very well could have been the person she knew the least because of his prolonged absence, but she had been the one who helped him come back home. She still knew him enough to allow him to return to the fold. 

The scrap of a chair sounded through the bar, and Scorpius glanced over to see Andrew, red in the face and his hands tracing along his lower back where a curled pig’s tail peeked out from a rip in his pants. With wild eyes, he scanned the bar for who had done this to him, and then, at the last second, his eyes found their table. All Andrew saw were four sets of innocent eyes looking back at him. Another rule of the game was that no one could rat out current players. It was the sacred rule of truth, dare, or shot. But Scorpius knew the blame would lie with him when it came to Andrew. That was fine, too. Andrew’s presence in Scorpius’s life was only temporary. The man scoured the bar, trying to figure out what had happened and who had done this to him. Teddy shrugged apologetically and offered the man a water. 

Scorpius turned his attention back to the game. 

Lily sat on the edge of her seat,  looking between them with glee. Then her gaze settled on her brother, an evil grin spreading across her fingers. “Truth or dare, Al.”

Albus could feel how much tension was in this bar and he was not here for it. No matter how much Rose tried to play it off like this wasn't that big of a deal but Lily's face was telling him otherwise. He knew Andrew was upset but fuck him for acting like that in the first place. He had only brought whatever that was on himself. Between Scorpius and Teddy he wasn't entirely sure which one had gotten the foam party express to the station but he was grateful for it. If for no other reason than he was tired and finally able to relax. And as Scorpius came to sit with them, that question was answered almost instantly.

He knew he shouldn't but he couldn't stop himself and Albus settled back into his chair. He could feel the looks from his sister and cousin but he just couldn't be bothered. So long as nothing else happened in the next few moments all would be right in his world. His elbow touched the table and he promptly propped his head atop his hand, taking stock of the man next to him and then beyond. He'd heard the question and a part of him died at the thought of it. Not so much the actual game itself but one time in particular that he'd learn to take shots. The blush on his cheeks was swift and fierce.

"Really Scorp?" Rose chimed in, her head dropping back as if he had suggested they eat worms. Lily seemed more amicable and ready to swing in to whatever this was. He really needed to talk to her later. Well, sternly speak at her about all this. But as the night was going on the anger he'd felt earlier was diminishing by the ticking of the clock. "You're just sour I'll drink you under the table again." He chimed in, ignoring the pointed look she shot back at him in response.

Albus turned to Scorpius then and took a hold of the bottle. the cap slipped off with ease and he knew this was going to be a mistake. His gaze drifted briefly across the bar to see James and Andrew truly in the thick of discussion. It was really only by the grace of Merlin neither of them had locked eyes in that moment. He wasn't really sure what was going on. He wasn't sure what was wrong with Andrew and he was still trying to figure Scorpius out. It felt like old times but .... "Lily will go first." He spoke mindlessly, turning to look at Scorpius for a moment and he broke into a bright smile. "I seem to remember that someone owes me one of the biggest favors on the face of this planet." She made a face at Albus but pointed at Scorpius. "Only if he gives me my options." Albus shrugged and leaned into his space just ever so. "What do you say, Scorp?" He asked, doing his best to keep his cheeks from spreading any further. "Think you can make her hate her life for a moment or two?"

[goldenboywrites]

There was a beauty to Cassio’s darkness that only Apollo saw. All it took was the flip of a switch, and he was someone entirely different, yet Apollo still recognized and saw him. Cassio’s voice lowered, and his eyes darkened. It was breathtakingly beautiful, and Apollo may have been selfish for it, but he liked that only he knew this side of Cassio. This version of him was his to keep. They worked fluidly together this way; they moved and thought as one. They always came out on top in the end because they were together. 

“Don’t worry,” Apollo hissed, stepping into the man’s direct line of sight. “He will grasp the consequences of his actions before we’re done with him.” The man’s eyes widened at the sight of Apollo. So he recognized him and knew who he was and what he was here to avenge. The widening surprise of his pupils was something Apollo relished in. He was thankful he wouldn’t have to explain everything and go over the horrific details Alexandria and Theo faced at the hands of this man. He could solely focus on their revenge. 

“You’ve been busy.” Apollo perched on the side of the bed, his hand falling onto the man’s knee, clasping it tightly. “It’s amazing to me that you’re able to sleep snug as a bug in a rug in this bed while Alexandria is dead and Theo lives in horror from what you’ve done.” He slid his hand up the man’s thigh, shaking his head at him with a soft ‘tsk, tsk’. “I’ve thought a lot over the years what it takes to be a man. I’ll share something with you: I had a father like you. At first, I admired him because he appeared larger than life. He had all of the answers; he was intelligent and powerful. I remember being a boy, looking up to him, and wanting to be like him. When he started hitting me, I thought I deserved it; I thought it was okay because he was reshaping me into the son he wanted, but even when I was good, did what he wanted, the punishments worsened, and then I realized I would never live up to the image he had of me in his head. He didn’t want me to because one day I would surpass him, and that was his biggest fear.” Apollo turned to Cassio, nodding at him. “Take off his restraints.” 

It wasn’t worth it if the man didn’t put up a fight. 

The moment Cassio released the vine’s grip, the man jerked to move away. “Oh, no,” Apollo said, moving to press his knees to the bed, straddling the man’s waist. He tightened his legs against the man’s body, locking him in place. “We’re not doing that.” He lashed out, fingers wrapping around the man’s throat, pushing him down on the bed. “Tell me where Alexandria is.” The man laughed, the sound brittle and cracking due to Apollo’s grip on his throat. He hated the sound of it. All he saw was red. “Tell me what you did to her.”  “I killed her,” He rasped, and Apollo knew she was dead. He had known since he left the house, but hearing it spoken out loud by the man who did it sent shockwaves through his body, and he faltered. For a split second, Apollo faltered. His grip loosened as he reeled back from the information. It was just enough for the man beneath him to weasel his wand from under his pillow. Enough for him to point it at Apollo’s chest and cast the blasting curse on him, and then he was sent flying across the room. Apollo’s back hit the wall with a resounding crack before he crumbled to the floor.

He needed no motivation to carry this out once they'd entered the house. He saw exactly what Apollo did. A place that was never fit for Alexandria. A home that would never be for Theo. A house of heartache. Cass thought briefly for a moment if this had been because of what Apollo and Isaac chose for themselves instead. He'd often wondered just how much something like that mattered in the outcomes they were starting to see in their lives. It also begged the question of, was it something they could allow or stop if they so chose? The blond gave a shake of his head at the sound of Apollo's voice and in turn gave a swift nod. Don't get distracted.

Silently the blond withdrew his wand for the second time that night and quietly whispered for vine restraints to come to their aid. He knew it was dumb but it made him feel more at home to have a bit of foliage to encourage him. Given their task at hand, it couldn't hurt. The sweet smell of chlorophyll filled the room as the restraints snaked over the man and slid into knots no human could ever undo. Cass lowered his arm but couldn't look away from the man. There was tension in the room and he knew that this man was Apollo's. There was no question in that. But he couldn't help himself. Knowing the woman that died at this man's hands, he hardly seemed to be worth the dirt on the bottom of her shoes. Let alone to share her bed and life. Cass knew deep down that it hadn't been her choice but still. Curiosity always would get the better of him in the end.

"Ready?" He whispered back over his shoulder, seeing that look in Apollo's eyes and he knew. He knew before the question ever left his lips. Apollo had been born ready for the filth that was destined to find it's way to him. Cass gave another flick of his wrist and the tip of his wand emitted water in spurts to mimic a muggle spigot. If this hadn't been so serious he might have laughed at how ludicrous this all was. Cassio was more than ready to put an end to this. And when those green hues popped open and it was crystal clear exactly what they'd awoken to.

A grin spread on Cass' face and he leaned down, his foot propping up on the edge of the bed. "Look who finally decided to join us." Cas flicked his wand and pocketed it once more. That same had was quick to come back up and roughly pat his cheek a few times. "Friend of mine wants a word brother." The vines tighten around the man and jerk his upper body forward so he could only see in Apollo's direction. "Think he's in a bit of shock." Cass tsk'd him and sighed, "It's much less fun when they can't really grasp what's about to happen I think."

[goldenboywrites]

Max paused, turning towards Cesare, eyes scanning his face. “You hope he stays?” He asked, brow raised. “Of course he’s staying. There’s no reason not to. I mean, he ran from his grief, and I get it. It was hard to be here when our parents were gone, but he got his time away to heal, and now it’s time for him to come back and stay.” Max’s brow furrowed further; he shook his head at Cesare. “His life is here. He’s not a kid anymore he can’t keep running away from the hard shit try as he might.” Max picked up another piece, rolling his eyes at the one laced with pineapple. Typically Quin. Max didn’t even believe he liked pineapple on pizza, but he did it to be contrary. Such is Quin’s way of life. 

He wasn’t surprised that Quin wasn’t going to stay. He would have been more shocked if he moved back without a fess. Quin was avoidant by nature. Coming back here meant facing all of the things he left behind. Max and Cesare, the death of their parents, and the rebellion he took on against their uncle. He was also sensitive, way more sensitive than Max had ever been. Quin probably felt like too much time had passed between all of them. That there was no place for him here anymore. Max had let him go once without a fight; he wouldn’t allow it to happen again. “I’ve got it handled,” Max said as he loaded a plate for Quin but ignored the beer. Quin wouldn’t want it. 

Following Cesare, Max stopped at Quin’s room and knocked on the door. Again, he wasn’t surprised when there was no answer, yet he waited and knocked again. Max took his opportunity when the door opened a sliver and pushed his way inside. “What?” Quin asked, his hair dripping on his shoulders. His eyes fell to the plate in Max’s hands, and he rolled his eyes. “Cesare sent you?” Quin turned around and walked deeper into his bedroom, busying himself with pulling clothes out of his suitcase. 

It did not go beyond Max’s notice the irritation pusling off his little brother. He perched himself on the bed, watching Quin ransack through his suitcase. “He wanted to ensure you ate something since you’ve had such a busy day.” There were a couple of ways Max knew he could get to Quin. The years may have separated them, but Quin was a creature of habit. “He’s caring of his friends that way.” His brother’s head snapped towards him, and Max smiled. The perfect face of innocence. “I’m excited to take you to the club tonight. It’s not my taste, but it’s been a good place for Cesare and will be a good place for you too. If you get my drift,  went unsaid. Quin could read between the lines. “Eat your pizza, Q.” 

He left Quin’s bedroom and immediately went into Cesare’s. Max jumped on his best friend’s bed, back against the headboard. He pulled one of Cesare’s pillows into his lap and waited until his best friend looked at him. Max wasn’t a good actor. He couldn’t hide his glee, but he cleared his throat, tilting his head as they stared down at each other. “It seemed like you and Quin were busy today. Grocery shopping, making pizza, etc, etc.” He fingered the corner of Cesare’s pillow, rolling his bottom lip between his teeth before continuing. “Tell me, with all those activities, when did he find the time for a quick nap? Interestingly, his bed was unmade and yours…is in perfect condition. Care to explain, bestie?”

Watching Quin leave that room was one of the hardest things he'd done that day. If he had just been a little faster, made that move a little sooner. He'd be kicking himself for the rest of the night. Or Max depending on how obnoxious he was going to be. Not that Cesare could fault him. Quin wasn't his brother and he didn't have any siblings so he couldn't imagine how this felt for his best friend. And he felt bad for being selfish with Quin before but it wasn't like he'd intended it to happen. Hell, Max couldn't even tell him that Quin was coming. Stop being a prick.

"Yeah, I think so." He answered plainly, moving to lean on the counter and pick up the pieces of pineapple now on the counter. These two were going to kill each other in the next few days. Well, Quin was going to kill Max. Which was just like it had been. "I think he just needs to get comfortable. Relax. Whatever flight he was on seems to have been long one." Cesare actually had no idea but he just assumed. Being that their uncle was quite the shady guy, it was a safe assumption.

Cesare took a piece of pizza in his hand and took a few bites, joining Max in his dinner. "I hope he decides to stay." He knew Max was going to object and insist that of course he would. "He's got a life tht we don't know anything about now." Cesare knew differently and not to mention, Quintus had grown up and was an entirely different person than the gangly teenager that they'd both last seen. Today had shown him that more than anything else. It wasn't a bad thing and he was glad to be able to even see him now. The only thing he was truly in regret of in that moment was that he hadn't kissed him when he had the chance. Either time. And in that moment, while his best friend was eyeing him, worried for his brother; Cesare was commiting to himself that Quintus wouldn't leave until he'd told him everything.

A light sheen of sweat broke out over his body just then and Cesare was quick to finish the slice in his hand and wash it down with his beer he'd discarded to the side. "You want to take him some pizza and his beer while I get cleaned up?" He questioned, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand before he took another long drink and finished off the first drink. He was quick to grab another from the fridge and pop it open. "Hurry up and do that and you can come tell me about your day." Even if Quintus was back, he wouldn't give up his evening debrief with Max. Even if he'd tried to throw him under the boss with the cute bartender. Nothing would ever come of it but they were quick friends. Good tips and guaranteed good drinks, seemed like an amicable friendship between the two. And, they both liked to look.

"Hurry up!" He told him, taking in a deep drink as he turned from the kitchen and hurried down the hall towards his own room. He stopped briefly in front of Quin's room, hand itching to reach out and open that door. But he knew better, Quin needed to decompress and with Max around, personal time and space was going to be short supply the rest of the evening. He sighed out loud and went into his own room to finish that beer and get ready for their night out.

[goldenboywrites]

Flynn tending to his wounds didn’t hurt. Dodger could only feel the heat of the slayer’s fingers as they brushed against his skin. However, he made sure to wince and close his eyes occasionally, hissing in pain when appropriate. Sometimes, it was hard to remember how to play human. He didn’t technically have to hide who he was unless he was on an assignment like this one. Darian had most of the city council members and police officers paid off, and they left anyone under his rule alone. However, Dodger worked with many humans, so their mannerisms were easy to pick up when he needed them. “I think I’ll go with an overly excited puppy,” Dodger whispered, his head tilted to the side, allowing Flynn easy access to his wound. His eyes quickly found the slayer’s, dipping down to his lips, then back to meet his gaze. “I’m more of a cat person anyways.” 

It was hard not to be mesmerized by the slayer’s movements and his caring nature, which Dodger now saw. No one had ever handled him with such care before, not in his human life, not as a vampire. He wasn’t something fragile, requiring careful hands and longing glances. Every hand laid on him had been born from violence. Sometimes, he feared it was all he had ever known, and maybe that was why Darian had changed him. He saw that in Dodger, recognized it, and needed someone with that nature at his side. Perhaps that was why he had grown so quickly into what he was. 

“That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.” Dodger bit his lip, watching Flynn rip the tape with his teeth. He wanted to feel those teeth on his skin; even more, he wanted to sink his fangs into Flynn. The time for that would come; Dodger had to be patient. He would be patient. There were more pressing things to discuss first. 

“No idea,” He said, brushing his fingers lightly across the bandage covering his neck. “Now that I know, everything makes a lot more sense.” He brought his legs up to his chest, hugging his arms around his calves. Dodger leaned the side of his head against the back of the couch. “So that’s the real reason you’re here? You fight vampires for a living? Is that something someone chooses or…?” Dodger closed his eyes, inhaling deeply. “Sorry, I’m trying not to bombard you, but the only thing I know about vampires is from Twilight, the movies, not the books, and after seeing that guy tonight, I feel I’m not completely up to date on my vampire mythology. I’m trying not to lose my mind, but I don’t even think I could walk down the street anymore and feel safe in this town. I don’t know what to expect. I’ve lived in this town my whole life and don’t know anything about it anymore. I, um,” Dodger bit his lip, willing his eyes to well up with unshed tears. “I’m scared. I don’t know what’s real anymore.”

He had to admit there hadn't been a rookie night like this in years and honestly, it wasn't awful. Aside from being attacked and the bruising starting on his face and body at that moment. He had to admit, this town was going to be the challenge he was looking for. He also understood why he'd been assigned here. That silent walk over allowed him to work out a lot of tonight's details. More so that he hadn't actually met whom he'd intended too and that miffed him more than he liked to admit. If there was one thing Flynn hated it was wasted time and effort. Though as he heard his new friend enter back into the room with him, he'd reconsidered what exactly wasteful meant.

His eyes danced on the different faces in the pictures once more before he turned to help his new found friend. "You're in luck actually." Flynn spoke in a smooth tone, his feet stopping just short of the couch and he bent in to look at what he had to work with. Definitely wasn't something he'd have picked up but it would work in a pinch. He doubted very much that the man across from him would mind considering the state of everything else in this place. It wasn't awful but you could tell there were very few activities taking place here past sleeping, eating and showering from the looks of it. Maybe that's why he wasn't shy at the bar. "I aced my field medic course in basic."

Flynn pulled out some antiseptic and gauze to start with. He sectioned off a few pieces and poured the liquid onto the pieces. "Don't jump." He told him as he took one of the squares in his hand and leaned in to press it on the two puncture marks. His brow furrowed feeling the holes again and he scoffed under his breath. Fuckin' piece of shit. He wiped again and again until he was happy with the lack of blood flow and dirt no longer in it. Flynn turned back and grabbed one of the wet pieces and another couple of the dry ones. "You can tell everyone a rabid squirrel tried to have it's way with you on your way home." He offered, slipping the piece with the solution on the puncture wounds first and then a couple of the dry ones on top. Flynn moved to take Dodger's hand and replaced his own but kept his finger tips atop the other's hands while he dug back in the box for some tape.

"Too much to wish for scissors, huh?" He asked, looking briefly over at Dodger before he slid his bottom row of teeth along the tape roll until he found it's beginning. The sound of the tape stretching free as the end wedged between Flynn's teeth and the freeing rip was one fluid motion. He bared his teeth more as he fought to keep everything in place and fumble the tape onto it's desired spot. Once he was somewhat happy with it at least holding the wad of gauze he went back for a second piece of tape. This time the attempt was much better not having to use his damn mouth to get it free this time. Flynn was careful when he applied pressure, ensuring that the piece of tape would hold he bandage.

"You really had no idea?" He finally asked after a moment. It seemed redundant after his mini freak out back at the bar but a part of Flynn had always lived for the innocence that humanity had always presented. It was the only real reason he was still doing this after all these years. It couldn't all be for naught. That just had never sat right with him and if there was still a wonder in humanity, an innocence that could still be, well, that was worth all of it to him then. "I guess I really do have my work cut out for me here then, huh?" He knew that making light of this was not going to help but the awestuck was still strong in his senses and honestly, he just wanted a reason for Dodger to speak again. If for no other reason than he just wanted to hear his voice. A human connection. Fuck.

[goldenboywrites]

Iggy felt at peace the moment his grimoire was back in his hands. He ran his hand over the cover, feeling Julius’s fingerprints on it. The book hummed its approval. Despite Iggy’s reluctance towards the prince, his magic responded to him as naturally as it did to Ignatius. It was something he refused to accept but had to. He was only this powerful because of his bond to the prince. Deep down, Iggy knew it wasn’t either of their faults. He could only blame fate or how the planets and stars aligned the night they were born. But it pegged the question,  who would he be if he were not the prince’s mate? Would he still have been a wizard?

He turned to look at Julius as he spoke. Iggy stayed silent, letting the man continue with his thoughts without interruption. He found it funny that Julius wasn’t prepared for him when hardly anything in his life changed at Ignatius’s arrival. Julius still got to live in his home; he still had all of his treasures and belongings he gained from this, while Iggy lost everything for the bond. There was no point in saying it; he would just be repeating his feelings, and Julius would never understand his side. 

Iggy returned to Julius, following the string of fate that annoyingly connected them. He sat in the chair across from the prince, leaning back in his seat until he was comfortable. Only time would tell if Julius was different from the kings before him. Iggy had many talents, but reading the future wasn’t one of them. It probably wouldn’t hurt to do a tea reading just to be sure. “You’ve watched your father rule this kingdom your entire life,” Iggy said, propping his elbow up on the arm of the chair. He rested the side of his head against his knuckles. “He trained you to take over his throne when his rule is over.” What had the prince witnessed between his father and his wizard? Had he seen how his father wielded someone else’s magic? The demands he’s made to his wizard? 

“Before I agree, I want to know if you were on the throne now. What would you do differently from your father? What have you seen him do throughout the years that you disagree with? What do you want to be known for at the end of your rule?”

Everything in the prince itched to take that book from mid air and dive right in to it. To soak in all of the secrets of the man before him was so tempting that his fingers actually twitched but Julius kept himself in check. Especially when he had to consider the actual ramifications of what he did now. They both had to be aware of the other. That in itself was going to be something he'd have to get used to. Having no siblings living at the castle for comparison, the closeness this man was describing just sat different with him. And even that he was sure was no where near what he had in mind.

He did take the book in his hands but he didn't open it. The moment his fingers touched the cover he could feel the air around them shift and he knew he was in dangerous territory. But he looked at the bindings and felt it's weight as he moved back to hand it back to it's owner. "Something tells me I'm not quite ready for what's inside this yet." He managed as he drug his eyes off of it and onto it's owner. Iggy kept talking about how he would belong to him and vice versus but was that entirely true? Could they not still be independent of one another? Everything told him that there wasn't a prayer for him after their ritual but he was still clinging to the normalcy he'd grown accustomed to.

"Something also tells me that I'm not quite ready for you yet either." That was probably the most honest he'd been. Seeing the book back in his soft hands, Julius found himself yearning to also know just how soft that touch was. He cleared his throat, forcing himself to look into the other's eyes. And that was the bigger mistake. "I don't pretend to understand how this works but if I understand you correctly then soon it is to be just you and I." He thought to include the council but that felt wrong. Because it would just be the two of them. This bond between them was building and try as he might, Julius wasn't entirely sure he could fight it off if it was only growing stronger and stronger the longer he was with him. And when he looked at him? "I don't want you to hate me. And I don't want to resent you." A bell sounded off in the distance and Julius drew his gaze away to gather his thoughts.

Feeling this strongly was messing with what his head knew to be true and not to mention, he was the damn crowned prince. He'd never clung to that but here he was about to grovel on his knees before a man he'd spent a few hours time with and for what? "I understand you think that I am out to get you. And perhaps there is some merit to that from previous kings of my family line but ..." He knew this would all look very much like posturing to Iggy. And perhaps some of it was but damn if he didn't need to make sure that he believed it too. The man before him had him questioning a lot of things. "I don't want us to be like that." He let out a shaky breath and moved to find himself a seat on the arm of one of the chairs. But he'd be damned if his integrity would be accused before he'd even truly shown this man who he was or what he was about. Is this what the bond would do to them? He'd been second guessing the entire time but this truly put things into perspective for him.

"Can we at least agree to that for now? Leave the rest where it lay until the ceremony?"

[goldenboywrites]

“When have I ever waited to get credit?” Quin whispered, glancing up at Cesare. “I just take it.” he tilted his head slightly to the right, nudging the pizza closer to him for a second bite. “That’s always been in my nature.” 

He didn’t know what to make of their closeness at that moment. This was the second time Cesare was ducking down as if he was going to kiss Quin, but that couldn’t be right. He didn’t like Quin like that. How could he? How many times had Max teased Quin about his obvious crush on Cesare? Just about as many times as Max told him to get over it because Cesare was his best friend, and it was embarrassing. It was cliche to like his older brother’s best friend. Quin hated that part of him that held such a space for Cesare, even after all this time.

But the way his skin tingled and burned when Cesare touched him had to mean something, right? Did Cesare feel it, too? Was it all just in his head? Even if it wasn’t, it didn’t matter. They had this week, and then Quin was leaving. But he didn’t move, even though his mind screamed to pull away. He was frozen in that spot, staring up at Cesare as he inched closer, like a timid rabbit ready to run away. He was, but Quin didn’t like that Cesare so quickly clocked that about him. It felt like forever, but he waited patiently. Testing to see what Cesare would do.

And then the front door burst open. The sound of it hitting the wall was like a lightning shock to Quin’s core. He stepped back, creating an ocean of space between them, and turned his head just in time to see his brother barrel into the room like a bull in mid charge. Quin set the pizza down before being engulfed in Max’s bear hug. Typically, Quin resented physical touch, but he let Max have this. His brother squeezed the air from his lungs, swept Quin off his feet, and spun him around. Max held his face in his hands when he was back on the ground, looking over every inch of him. “You’re so grown,” He whispered, teary-eyed and disgusted. “You look like just a miniature version of dad. I can’t believe it.” 

Max let go of Quin, sniffing the scent of pizza and moving between he and Cesare to grab a slice of Cesare’s pizza. “Hot, hot hot,” He mumbled as he jostled the piece from hand to hand before taking half of it in one bite like the heathen he was. Then, Max looked back to Quin, smiling down at him like he alone put the sun in the sky. “I’m so happy you’re back home with us.” He finished his slice, talking around the food in his mouth. “The three of us united again for good. It feels so good.” 

Quin tore his gaze away from his brother, the guilt bubbling up in his throat. Quin glanced to Cesare first, searching for help, but Cesare wanted the same. The only help he would be was soothing Max’s wounds when Quin left again. “Max, you should know-” 

“Hey, you know what?” Max wiped his hands on his pants before clasping Quin and Cesare’s shoulders. “I know we have a funeral to plan and a family member to mourn, but we should go out. Tonight. The three of us need to celebrate you being back. There’s this super cool club that Cesare and I go to because the bartender has a massive boner for Cesare and gives us free drinks all night. I made a drinking game out of it.  Take a drink when every time he hits on Cesare, take a shot every time he makes Cesare blush.” Quin remained stoic, but he did glance over at Cesare, raising a brow at the man. It was all fascinating. “You’ll love it. We’ll have a blast. Please say yes, Max. It’s the only answer I’ll accept.” 

Max wouldn’t let this go; Quin knew well enough, and with everything he felt towards Cesare, maybe seeing him with the bartender would kill whatever remaining feelings lingered for the man. It’ll make leaving so much easier. “Fine,” Quin said, abandoning his half-eaten pizza and stepping away from the counter, from both of them. He needed to digest everything going on. He needed time alone. “I’ll be ready to go in a couple hours.” Then, he slipped out of the kitchen before they could stop him, walked up the stairs, and went into his bedroom, shutting the door behind him. 

“God, doesn’t having him back with us feel good?” Max said, turning to lean against the counter and picking up Quin’s pizza slice. He picked through the melted cheese, flicking off pineapple bits before deeming it worthy of consumption. “How was he when you were with him? He seem ok?”

Cesare's tongue ran along the back of his teeth as he weighed what Quintus' would think if he refused him right then. They'd been dancing around each other all day and this was probably the closest he was going to get to Quin before Max got home. While his finger still throbbed, he couldn't deny the invitation. Truth be told he didn't hate pineapple on pizza. More that there had never been anyone else that really liked it enough to tolerate getting pizza with him. Not even Max in all their years of friendship would cave on that particular stance. With a loud sigh, Cesare took Quin's wrist gently between his fingers and bent in for a bite of the pizza.

Truth be told that was truly a good slice of pizza. He inhaled quickly as an aid to help with the warmth that flooded his mouth from the gooey cheese and sweet tid bits of pineapple. Cesare chewed slowly but made sure not to linger as to not burn his tongue on the damn thing. A soft hum of approval escaped his lips at the amalgamation of all the flavors and he leaned in closer towards Quin without realizing at first. "Don't think." He started to say only to realize he indeed needed to chew a bit better before actually trying to insult this man. That's on par. "I'm going to give you any credit." He chewed a bit more and swallowed, a bit disappointed that flavor was gone now. "For me liking pineapple on pizza."

The smile that broke out on his face as he looked over at the pizza and then back at Quin. Something hit him then. Like he'd been thinking of it all this time but it was only really now that it dawn on him. This is what the rest of that summer would have felt like. At least in some fashion. That much he was sure of. The way Quintus was looking at him had him hoping that that was exactly the way of it. And as he stood there looking at the man he'd spent the last few years missing, he felt it all come flooding right back in. Cesare felt himself moving in towards Quintus and did nothing to stop it until they were damn near chest to chest. He could feel Quin's warm breath against his face and chest and just for the moment he thought to be selfish. "But I will let you win for today."

And just as he bent in to kiss Quintus on those full lips he heard the front door swing open with a vigor that hadn't been in this house in years. "Put the pizza down." Cesare scrunched up his face and turned just in time to see Max standing in the door way with hands held high and his smile so big it made him smile in turn. Fucker. "Surprise!" He yelled out and laughed, his arm wrapping around Quin and he held on for them to both brace for the impact of Max now hurdling towards the pair of them.