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sweet-teeth-mfs · 5 years ago

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Mafia!Jin: Call Me Master

Genre: Mafia au.

Content Warnings: Graphic depictions of sex and 18+ content, smoking, death, murder, violence, blood, injury, knives, guns, servant/master roles, criminal world au, swearing, power imbalance.

Kinks / summary: master/servant petnames, bodyguard au, mafia au, desk sex, semi-public sex, knife play.

Welcome to the world of Mafia!Jin, a crime drama/smut that places our Worldwide Handsome at its heart, protected by the deadliest guard force on the planet, alongside his new personal bodyguard - you.

Word count: 5,514

Series order: Cast list | Prologue | Call Me Master

Music Recommendation: Shivering Gold - Tove Lo (for the smut!)

Details: This took me a really long time to write, and it’s quite different I think from a lot of my previous works, especially in how the story is told, so I’m quite nervous about how it will be received! I implore you to read the castlist & prologue before you read the fic itself, as a lot of the story is outlined ahead of time! I hope you enjoy it and please let me know if you do!

Special thanks @lamourche whose BTS mafia fic Omerta inspired my own, and to @gotmetalkinginmysleep who helped edit, plot and plan a good deal of this fic. I couldn’t have done it without you!

Gif used with permission from the amazingly talented @kimseokjin (this gif inspired so much of this fic so thank you so much for allowing me to use it!)

Tag list: @gold--gucciempress, @demonic-meatball, @litty-dumb, @taechnological, @trouble-clef, @vivpurple7, @parkminhee, @btsxdoll , @nooooooooona, @kimsdior. ✨

“Call me Master” Seokjin says, and his voice is so clear cut and sharp that you almost trip over as you move to kneel in front of him. You can smell the blood in the air, his wounds still fresh but tended to, the leftover medical supplies he’d used on himself scattered across the desk. You’re not sure how both of you made it out alive tonight, and the adrenaline of nearly losing your charge - which would surely have meant losing your own life as well - is buzzing loudly through your body.

You’d been his personal bodyguard for nearly nine months now. It had been an honour to your family to be asked to provide the service, and your parents had been proud that you had been accepted. The way your Mother’s chest had swelled when the call had come that yes, her daughter would be adequate.

Of course, you’d been training for this kind of job since you were five. It was expected, and you’d had no choice at first, but soon your natural ability had overcome any concerns you had, and now, now you were untouchable.

Seokjin knew that, hell, he relied on it, but more than that, he abused it. Lately, doing careless things was Seokjin’s MO and you weren’t sure when it was going to reach boiling point...but judging by this evening, he was already hot enough.

“I could have died tonight,” he says, and you feel the cool touch of your favourite knife on your throat. You don’t raise your head, completely subservient to him in this moment, hoping against hope that he’s not really mad. Hoping to all the gods that he will spare you, and allow you to stay. “Do you want me to die?” he asks, the knife tight against your skin.

“No,” you answer, then quickly, “Master.”

The knife wavers.

It hadn’t been the most comfortable of arrangements, at first.

You’d arrived at the compound with your meagre bag of possessions (mainly, the ornate knife set your Father had made for you along with a few other momentos), expecting to become part of a much larger protection detail. Expecting to be dressed in blacks for the rest of your life, to be silent, to be hidden. Expecting to be with him, but never alone. That was the way of life for you. And so, when you’d been told that your cover was to be as Seokjin’s girlfriend - a precious socialite-type dressed in skirts and ball gowns - it had taken some adjusting to.

And then there was the heels…

“I thought you liked this job Duchess?” He says, using your code name like you’re his pet, rather than his bodyguard. You disliked the name sometimes, but today, on his lips, it feels different. “I thought you liked me?”

“I do, Master,” you reply, still not lifting your head. Hoping he doesn’t read the double meaning hidden in your quick honesty. A beat passes.

“Yet you let those men get to me...” he says, his voice almost amused as he tuts at you.

You raise your eye line an inch towards him and you can see how he’s playing with the knife now, risking a cut as he runs his fingers along the edge experimentally. You gulp, your heart still racing.

“I’m sorry,” you repeat yourself, your eyes back on the carpet.

“I’m sorry, whom?”

“Master,” you say quickly, grimacing at your mistake, “I’m sorry Master.” This will take some getting used to…if he lets you live that is.

You knew he’d had little choice in who he was assigned, but you also knew that he’d gone through multiple bodyguards before you. Some had even died, one particularly messily it was said, but many had been rejected.

The one before you, a sweet, (but deadly) blonde thing code named Capricorn, had lasted the longest, and that was only three months total. Seokjin was picky, something you learnt quite quickly on the job.

“I like you ‘Chess,” he says, and his voice is only a note sweeter than before but it’s enough to have your eyes darting up to his in hopefulness. He’s sat on the edge of the desk, his legs open wide, the knife still at play in his hands. The look he gives you when your eyes meet isn’t soft however. You look back to the floor. “…and now you’ve put everything at risk…” he finishes, standing up to tower above you.

“I’m sorry Master,” you repeat yourself, your knees starting to hurt.

God, if only you can get through this.

If only you can do something…something to prove it was only a fluke that they’d gotten past you…something to convince him that you were his…and something to convince him of the truth you already knew; the truth you’d learnt in all these months protecting him… that you were more than worthy of him.

---

Your first meeting had been hell.

You’d been living in the compound for two months before the time had come. Kept in a separate wing from his, bunking in a room full of other guards, most of which were men, many of whom thought you’d never make it. You knew that gaining their trust would take time, you just wished you had any idea of how long.

You’d learnt everything about Seokjin by rote, never seeing him, still not sure you would ever be used. You’d managed to make small progress with the rest of the team, but you knew they were waiting until you were officially confirmed before they’d fully accept you as one of their own.

Then one day, your schedule of training had been interrupted and you’d been summoned.

It was awful.

Caspar and Pallas had ushered you into the private boardroom in the basement of the compound, their faces set so darkly that you wondered if maybe, just maybe, you’d been rejected early. Seokjin had been there, sat across from his parents, his head not even lifting when you entered the room.

“This is her,” his mother had said, standing up to come over to you, grasping your chin to raise your face to hers. You blinked away a flinch at her touch, and she looked into your eyes, her gaze full of scrutiny yet still vaguely gentle. “Good features,” she had said to Seokjin over her shoulder, almost as if you were a painting, or maybe a pretty doll. Seokjin hadn’t looked up.

“She’s been trained?” his father had asked.

“She’s ready sir,” Caspar answered, stepping forward to address the Boss, his tall form overshadowing you almost protectively. “I trained her myself in the house’s orders, and she’s already proficient with blades and firearms.” Caspar paused, turning to gaze back at you with a surprising twinkle of pride, “She’s particularly skilled with thrown weapons.”

“…And what does the doctor say?”

“Balthazar? He said she’s clean sir,” Pallas offered.

Seokjin’s mother had dropped her hand from your face, “He checked… everything?”

Pallas had shifted his weight uncomfortably at the question. You hadn’t been able to help the blush rising in your cheeks either. Some days you had hated the life you’d been born into, but uncomfortable questions like this were to be expected, and you had accepted your fate long ago. Pallas made to answer but Seokjin had cut in, finally raising his head.

“…that was really necessary?” he asked, looking at his father.

“Of course it was necessary,” his father had snapped back, “Don’t be so naïve.”

Seokjin’s head had fallen back down. You’d looked at him then, only a tiny glance, but it was enough to make your breath catch and for your neck to crick as you looked away quickly.

He was beautiful in person…but, he had also looked sad.

You had decided, then and there.

---

Back in his private study, Seokjin is fixing himself a drink.

You’re still on your knees, trying you best not to wince at the pain. This is ridiculous, but you’re desperate to explain your side of the evening to him, desperate to make it known that of course, you’d never intended for him to get injured.

Your failure stung, but more than that - and even after all his teasing, all of his childish behaviour - it was really the idea that he thought ill of you that hurt the most.

...It was difficult to explain how long you’d been in love with him for...

“You know I’ve rejected guards before, yes?” he asks, and it feels like your heart has jumped to your throat. Dread fills you. He turns and you look at him, his eyes unreadable. You nod, unable to speak. He’s walked slightly towards you, raising the glass to his lips as he maintains eye contact. He takes a swig. “Do you want to stay with me?” he asks.

Your response is immediate, “Yes, Master.”

You’re not sure, but you could have sworn he was smiling …just a little. Your heart skipping, you open your mouth, trying to keep your voice strong, “Please, let me stay. Let me convince you I’m worthy...of staying.”

He finishes his drink in one and turns back to the cabinet to fix another.

“Worthy?” he muses, before laughing dryly, “Well you definitely didn’t convince me of that tonight. You’ve been protecting me for what, nine months? Anyone would think that was long enough to convince me. Isn’t this the third time I’ve been injured whilst in your care?”

You try to speak, raising your head to look at him again, but he’s moved, and now he’s stood right in front of you.

He crouches down to where you’re knelt, and slowly runs his spare hand along your jaw. You shiver at the touch, blushing as you feel a combination of shyness, secret desire, and just a shade of doubt. His movements are suddenly gentle, his expression still guarded, but his voice full of honey as he asks,

“Do you want to convince me Duchess? Do you even think you can?”

---

“-It was completely irresponsible!” Caspar shouts, his lips so close to your face that you have to focus on not colliding with him as you breathe.

Its two months before you’ll find yourself kneeling in Seokjin’s study. Instead, you’re standing in the boardroom, your back straight, eyes forward and dulled. Seokjin sits at the table, massaging his bruising, still bleeding fists. Caspar is livid, but you can see something a little deeper in his face; disappointment. “I didn’t think you were this messy Duchess.”

You bite your tongue, knowing the truth. Knowing that this time, it wasn’t anyone’s fault but Seokjin’s. But, for some reason that you can’t quite put your finger on, you’re taking the punishment for him.

Caspar begins to pace the room.

“First, you disobey a direct order to report in regularly,” he says, his hands in the air, palms open as he gestures wildly, “I try to contact you, hours pass-” he turns on his heel, looking from Seokjin to you, “-and then when you do finally surface you turn up with him looking like this, and for some reason you seem completely unwilling to tell me what happened!”

“Caspar-” Seokjin starts weakly.

“He has to do three public events this week!” Caspar continues to berate you, ignoring Seokjin. “He can’t turn up with his hands looking like that! What the fuck were you thinking?”

“I-” you start, but his eyes flash at you and you stop mid sentence. Its like he can sense the lie forming on your tongue. Can smell it. He’s back in front of you now and his height, strength, and dominant position are not lost on you. Taking in a slow breath you look him in the eyes, trying to steady yourself as he bares down on you. “Go on,” he all but growls.

“It-it won’t happen again.”

His nostrils flare as he looks at you, and Seokjin calls out again, warningly this time, but Caspar remains, holding your gaze. “It better fucking not,” he threatens quietly, turning away with a look of disgust. He turns to Seokjin, “...I’ll fetch you some ice.”

He leaves then, the tension in the room seeming instantly lessened and you let out your breath, relieved. You look over to Seokjin and blink as you see him; his face turned to yours, his expression wildly curious, but pleased.

“Why’d you do that?” he asks.

A beat passing, the distant sound of Caspar’s footfalls as he climbs the stairs above you,

“Yeah...Why did I do that?”

---

“Don’t you want to please me Duchess?”

Seokjin’s let you up off your knees, but somehow, you feel even more vulnerable now you’re on your feet.

He stands in front of you, holding you by the wrist, but unlike the sharp hold you’re used to from sparring practice, this touch is gentle, hesitant. His eyes are deep in your own, his breath almost quick.

What feels like a second ago you were scared for your job, your life - but now you can only think of how close he is, how hard your heart is beating in your chest, how long you’ve wanted him to touch you like this. The dangerous tension of punishment is being slowly converted to something else, something new, something more...raw. You’re so stunned at the change in him you can barely think straight.

He’s holding you against his chest now, his breath in your face as he leans near,

“...You would tell me if you didn't want this, wouldn’t you Chess?” He asks, his lips so close, ghosting over your own as he holds the last part of himself back, waiting for you to give him your consent.

You nod your head just slightly, still unbelieving, hoping you’re not misinterpreting him, needing him more in this moment than you would ever admit to, “Of course I would, Master.”

He almost lifts you off the ground with his kiss.

You blink in shock at the speed of his attack, feeling his hands greedily capture your body, palms spread to clutch desperately at you. Melting into him, his mouth on yours - at last - your hands at first are tentative, worried for the wounds on his arms, but eventually you give in fully to his embrace.

His lips are better than you ever imagined. He kisses you deeply, as if he’s only going to get one chance to do so, as if he’s been waiting forever for it-

One of his hands leaves your ass to quickly clear space on his desk with a sweep as you gasp for air, before he roughly hitches your body closer to his own, grinding you down. Your own hands are splayed flat on his broad chest, feeling his strength, and beneath it, his racing heart. He kisses you again and again-

“I’ve wanted you for so long,” he gasps out, breathing the words against your gaping mouth, hands beginning to tear at your clothes, ripping them violently, almost painfully, “God, I’ve wanted you Chess.”

“And yet-” you say, suddenly giddy with adrenaline as you match his pacing, recklessly grinding yourself against his leg even as he pulls off your top between messy kisses; your necklace snapping, jewels scattering, “You’re still stalling-”

He grunts angrily as he continues to undress you, still kissing you, and your hands reach to unbuckle his belt.

“...what do you think you’re doing, Duchess?” he smiles against your mouth, and you stop, looking up at him, noting the return of your full code name. You pull back, confused.

“I-” you start, and he grabs your hand, suddenly holding it flush against himself, your body wrenched forward on top of him.

You feel him then, all of him, and you try to stop yourself but still, you gulp.

Its a lot.

“Do you want this, Duchess?” he asks, and his voice is full of playful, teasing candor. You look up at him, seeing the way his tongue is darting to the corner of his mouth as he stares down at you, feeling him. He’s stunning. What a bastard he is. “Do you want your Master to give you his cock?”

You feel him move underneath your touch and you convulsively clutch at him. God, he feels so...

“Yes, please,” you say immediately, looking into his eyes just before you finally add, “Master”. He responds fiercely to the title, a sound coming out of him that’s halfway between a groan and a roar, his hands immediately moving to hold your ass again, pushing your body hard against his own.

“Tell me exactly what you want, Duchess,” the last word exaggerated as he whispers against your lips, grinding you forcibly against his leg again, eliciting a soft moan from your mouth as his lips worry your neck with kisses, “...you know I’m good for it.”

You’re nearly naked in his arms, your dress clothes torn off of your body to reveal dark lingerie beneath. Seokjin always insisted you play your role as expensive girlfriend to the Nth degree, and tonight had been no exception. Your usually-hidden knife holsters remain but are empty, weapons removed when he’d first cornered you, the soft leather straps still hugging your shoulders and sides, encasing you.

You look up into his eyes again, and somewhere deep in your mind a tiny voice distantly shouts that maybe, just maybe, this is a bad idea...

But instead of listening to it, you lick your lips before saying, you voice stronger than ever before,

“I want you to fuck me, Master.”

---

7 Months Prior...

Caspar makes it to the head of the stairs of the restaurant in what feels like a second, pulling you swiftly along beside him. Below, a god-awful mess as dinner guests flee the building every which way, screams echoing and the distant sound of fighting.

“Don’t break your cover,” Caspar says to you, his eyes darting as he scans the room fast, starting down the stairs, “...but get to Gem, quickly.”

“I can stay, I can help!” you protest, reaching for your hidden knives.

Sway and French are at your sides now, both of them with guns drawn, moving forward cautiously. Seokjin follows behind Caspar, trying to see past him and into the room beyond.

Caspar looks to you, his expression resolute, “No Duchess, you’re leaving.”

Pallas is at the foot of the stairs, his gun out and what looks like blood on his cuffs. “I’ve called Gemini, but we need to get him out the back,” he says to Caspar, just before the room unexpectedly descends into darkness.

Chaos.

Screams.

A gunshot, and you suddenly feel several hands push you roughly to the ground.

A body on yours - heavy but protective - more gunshots.

The weight on top of you shifts, and Pallas’ voice is in your ears, “Are you ok Duchess?” his hands running all over your body, checking you, slightly panicked-

Caspar calls out something and Pallas’ face is close to your own in the dimness as he pulls you up off the ground, “Go Chess, GO!” he says, pushing you frantically towards the exit.

You don’t question him but run for it, your head bowed, hoping to god not to get shot in the crossfire. These fucking heels!

You slam into the exit as another series of gunshots echo out, clipping your hip in an impact with the door frame that you’ll be remembering for weeks, the door giving way and the cold night air hitting your lungs like a gut punch.

You stand up, slightly shaken, your head feeling like it’s spinning from the sudden assault, and Gemini nearly runs you over in his haste, his dark sedan pulling up and over the curb as he flings open the door,

“Get in!” He yells, and you all but dive in, throwing your feet up as you slam the door closed and Gemini floors it.

---

Gemini drives you out of the city like planned, but you can tell he’s just as worried as you are for news. He’s silent for the most part but asks every ten minutes or so for updates. You eventually murmur small talk to each other, trying to reassure yourselves that you’re doing the right thing, doing what Caspar told you, doing what was instructed.

On the way back into the city you notice he’s speeding but you’re too fretful yourself to say anything. The skyscrapers pass by, lights reflecting onto the dash in angular patterns. You shiver in your dress.

God, I hope they’re ok.

I hope this hasn’t failed already.

The compound is eerily quiet when you arrive back. Gemini makes sure you get in the doors safely but once you’re over the thresholds his pace quickens as he rushes ahead to Balthazar’s office - knowing that even if the rest of the crew isn’t back yet, at least Balthazar will know what’s going on. You try to not think about how if they are back, they might be in the office for a completely different reason.

It takes one look at French - sat looking dishevelled on the top step of the stairway to the office, his hair falling in his eyes, his hands balled into fists - to confirm your worst fears.

“Seokjin?” you ask as Gemini bounds past French and into the office.

French looks up, his jaw set, and he doesn’t have to say a word - you can read the worst on his face. You follow Gemini in.

Inside, a deathly silence. Sway sits on the floor, his head in his hands, flecks of red in his blonde hair. Next to him stands Pallas, holding his arm, his shirt sleeves splotched bright red - blood dripping slowly onto the floor. Gemini stands with Caspar, overlooking Balthazar as he works on -

Seokjin.

Your eyes fall on his body, laid out on the metal table - his shirt open, covered in blood, his unconscious face pale. Your breath catches in your throat.

“...Caspar?”

He turns to the sound and sees you - standing there, still in your stupid dress, heels in your hands. He��s bleeding too, a wound somewhere in his hairline that’s run down his forehead, but the blood has dried. He walks over to you, nodding towards the door. Gemini looks at you both fleetingly as Caspar walks you out of the room but he doesn’t move from Balthazar’s side.

French looks up as you exit the room, standing up and leaving to enter the office again. Caspar touches his shoulder as he goes and French just nods sadly.

“Is Seokjin-?” you ask Caspar the second French has left.

“He should be ok...should be.” Caspar sighs, sitting down. You sit next to him, the stairs a bit too narrow for the both of you to be comfortable, but Caspar doesn’t seem to mind the closeness. You sigh heavily.

“What happened?” you ask, looking to Caspar as he pulls out a cigarette and sticks it reluctantly in his mouth. He shakes his head, patting his trousers for a light. Once he’s lit, he pockets his zippo and draws in a deep breath.

“Seokjin happened, as always.”

You wait, knowing he’ll explain, putting your shoes down on the lower step. He smokes quietly for a moment, then offers it to you. You don’t smoke but fuck it. You breathe it in, expelling a large cloud into the dark air before passing it back to Caspar.

“I don’t know if they knew he was there, but he certainly made them aware of it in the end. He’s always so fucking impatient, so impetuous.” Caspar sighs, sucking back smoke before it comes out of his nose. “I think he was trying to impress you, you know?”

You blink, looking to him, “-but I wasn’t there?”

Caspar shakes his head, “He was too drunk to begin with, too nervous maybe, and it made him messy, an easy target.”

“...Fuck.”

“Yeah... but, Balthazar is skilled. He’ll bring him back to health.”

You sigh again and he passes the cigarette back to you. He stretches himself out as you smoke, flexing his sore limbs and trying (but failing) to not wince. You note his pained expression, “Are you ok?”

“Just a few grazes, nothing serious.”

“Your head,” you say, and because it’s a crisis you feel more confident, so you ash the cigarette and take his head in your hands gently, your eyes connecting as he allows you to inspect him.

“Is it always this bad?” you ask, making sure the blood on his wounds has congealed, “-with him?”

Caspar nods slowly, still allowing you to touch him, his head only slightly leaning into your hands. He looks so tired, so completely shattered. You tut quietly, shaking your head as you release his from your grasp, but he just looks at you, a look so honest and blunt that you feel your heart almost break at just the sight of it.

“I’m afraid you’re well and truly in it now Duchess,” he says.

---

“Can you take it all Duchess?”

God, how did you get here?

Stripped to your underwear on the desk, your briefs ripped aside as Seokjin moves between your open legs, the head of his thick cock rubbing against your pussy’s wetness with deliciously dense movements.

You feel him push inside you slowly, your body tense for a brief second as he moves further in, opening you up forcibly until you can accommodate him completely. You gasp out your breath when he does so, and he smiles at you, eyes dazzling,

“Stay with me Chess,” he says, his tone not quite mocking, not quite soft, “Breathe through it, baby.”

Your legs wrap around his waist as he pushes in deep, and you can’t help but moan loudly, feeling him fully inside you. It’s so fucking good you could choke. You’re nearly off the edge of the desk, his hands digging into your thighs and ass.

“That’s my girl,” he all but purrs in your ear. “I knew you could take it.”

Fuck.

He starts to lean into you and you wrap your arms around him, or, at least you try to. His shoulders are so broad that in the end you have to settle for his neck. He’s moving within you, methodically building up a rhythm, and not a slow one. You cling to him as he fucks you on the desk edge, trying desperately to catch your breath, looking down, between your bodies, momentarily hypnotised by seeing his cock entering yourself, over and over-

Seokjin catches you looking. “Fuck, you are my dirty girl, aren’t you Chess?”

You smirk up at him, your mouth suddenly dropping open in a moan as he pushes inside, hard. “Dirty girls get fucked though,” he says, his smile wicked as he thrusts inside even further, before quickly removing himself from you, grabbing you roughly and moving you back on the desk, climbing on top of you, pressing your body down against the leather - “Didn’t you want to get fucked Chess?”

He buries himself in you again in one slick movement and your exultant “Yes” is ripped straight up and out of your lungs.

He’s everywhere - lips on your neck, hands pinning yours to the desk, dick drilling into you, never relenting. Its too much. Goodness fuck, it’s too much. You’re delirious with pleasure.

You feel a tell-tale leap in your gut as your core starts to twinge and - oh god no, it's too soon…

“Is she going to come already?” he says, teasing you even as he keeps fucking you, looking into your face greedily as you feel yourself clutch around him, almost painfully - that searing heat - suddenly coming -

“Fuuuuuuckkkkk-”

...but he’s not slowing, and you whimper as he pushes you past your plateau, throwing your own head back, not caring when you hit the desk, just wanting him deeper, god, please, deeper!

“Come on Duchess, that’s not good enough-” he pants, hitching your legs up, his forehead beaded with sweat, “I know you can do better for me,”

You huff out a breath, trying to focus, trying to not be completely overwhelmed, clutching him to you, glorying in his body on yours, his lips on yours. You can feel his hands all over you, hear his dick slamming into your pussy again and again, his teeth grazing your neck as he savages you with messy, passionate kisses. He’s going to leave bruises.

“God, Seokjin, fuck, I can’t,”

“Yes you can, Chess,” he contradicts you, his forehead against your own, his dick so deep- “I know you can,” his eyes holding your own, a look so strong, so loving, and yet, so hungry- “I wanna see it...show me baby.”

He pulls back, sitting up to push you further over, hitching your legs up against his chest so he’s even deeper, his hands around your ankles as he kneels up, thrusting into you so fiercely that all you can hear is your own wetness for him, the grunting growl that’s coming from deep in his throat and your own completely incoherent whimpers as you watch the sweat roll down his chest when he lifts his chin at you-

“Come for me Duchess,” he commands - and you feel such devotion and loyalty, mixed with the world’s most powerful case of lust for all that he is, all he’s doing to you - that you just...do...and, ohhhhhh-

“...come for your Master.”

---

EPILOGUE

A week later:

It’s nearly midnight when you finally make up your mind. It’s time to play your hand, no matter the risk.

You slip out of the bed, dressing quietly, sparing Seokjin’s handsome sleeping form a cursory glance as you leave the room.

You walk quietly, your head bowed in thought, going over everything one last time - everything you’ve heard about in all your months here, everything you haven’t, and everything that you’ve worked out for yourself.

Despite the compound being large, and Caspar’s private quarters being on the opposite side to your own, you still don’t have quite enough time to think it all through - but, it’s too late anyway, you’ve already decided.

You knock on Caspar’s door.

Nothing.

You knock again, slightly faster this time, and a light comes on at the top of the door frame, a camera swivelling to look at you.

“We need to talk Caspar,” you say, staring up at the camera. It doesn’t move. The light goes out.

The door opens after a moment, and your mouth involuntarily falls open as you find yourself looking into not Caspar’s, but Gemini’s eyes. He’s topless in the dim doorway, slightly out of breath, dressed only in boxers, his expression just a little less shocked than your own.

His hair is a dark mess, stranded together with sweat, sticking to his face - which is gleaming with an unmistakable glow of exertion. You stand there, completely dumbfounded for a second, before you hear Caspar’s low voice carrying through to you from along the open hallway,

“Down here Duchess.”

You blink, moving into the hall automatically, Gemini closing the door wordlessly behind you, both of you completely unable to speak to each other.

Caspar’s quarters look like they used to be a workshop, and judging by the way the rest of the compound was built, you wouldn’t have been surprised if this were true. A large, open planned room almost akin to a warehouse apartment, with a small kitchen, several plush sofas set out near a tv, a series of stuffed bookcases and finally, a king size bed towards the back of the room, and on it -

Your eyes fall on Caspar, sat up in bed, his face flush, chest and legs bare, a slightly tired, slightly annoyed look on his face.

Fuck. They were-

“Don’t mention it,” Caspar says bluntly, as you hear Gemini moving about in the kitchen, fixing a drink. “Sit down,” Caspar says, gesturing in front of himself, sighing. “So, Duchess...are you here to talk to me about how you’re fucking your boss?”

You feel yourself blush as you reluctantly sit down on the bed edge. Caspar turns his face to yours, but his expression is unreadable.

Hearing this question, Gemini - who was halfway back to you both with a drink in his hand - turns swiftly on his heel to move back to the kitchen, and out of ear shot.

Caspar notes this with a ghost of a smile before looking back to you - slightly smug - and you feel your heart heavy in your chest as you take a breath, knowing your hunch, but still not completely trusting your gut.

“No,” you say, lowering your voice, “I'm here about Capricorn.”

It’s not much, but you notice the shift in his posture, the way his hands tense into fists in the bed-sheets, and most importantly, the way his eyes dart tellingly to Gemini.

One final boundary stands between you; and you steel yourself before you cross it,

“...does he know you killed her?”

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