goldenboywrites

“Show me where my armor ends, show me where my skin begins” 

[magiclwritings]

The amount of push and pull going on within his own body was enough to drive him mad on the spot. Mostly because he just wanted there to be a simple answer for all of this. But it would seem whatever this wizard laid his hands on was, for lack of a better phrase, meant to burst into flames. Julius wasn't sure what that meant for him but whether he liked it or not, he was getting more comfortable with that notion the longer this day went on. Especially when one considered the collar now sitting damn near perfect around his neck.

Julius cleared his throat and thought of what Iggy had asked of him. What sort of King was his father? The immediate rush to defend his honor was going to get him in trouble if he let it slip out too quickly and so he sat quietly for just a moment. There was a reason Iggy had asked him. That much he was getting the hang of. There wasn't something asked without a purpose. So what sort of King was he? If he had to really sit and think of it. Their subjects were relatively content from what he was told. There hadn't been any major uprisings that the crown knew of or actively waged against. And it seemed that nearly everyone had enough to eat. There were whispers of course but none that ever really concerned his father. But that didn't really say what sort of King he was.

"I think he tries to do right by most." He started off with because at their core, Julius knew that his father wasn't a monster. That wizard was another matter entirely. But he selfishly thought of moments they shared. The first time he'd been taught to ride his horse or the first time he struck out his own blade. All of the big moments his father was there and so very present. "Always made sure that I was nice, polite and neat where everyone else was concerned." He liked to think that he was the same way with his subjects but when his Queen, not Julius' mother, passed on; there was a shift in him. Not terrible but a sadness that nothing seemed to cure. "I think he tries to be better than he actually is."

The prince bit down on his lip so hard he tasted the iron before the pain actually registered. He hadn't meant to say that out loudly. And he knew that Iggy saw that flare of fear in his eyes. Not that he was worried of this one spreading that around. It was just ... weird to think of his father out of the context of that role. He supposed he had before but maybe not to that degree. "I think we can appeal to his good nature. If he thinks we're lying to him though." The prince diverted his gaze from Iggy's for a moment. "If there is any bit of advice I can give you in your stay here. For however long all of this goes on, he despises liars." Though he hadn't always been like that. As he got older it became more and more prevalent in his personality.

"If you've got a plan that doesn't involve deception of my father, I'm all ears." A small smile pulled on his lips at the thought. "The wizard is always free reign though."

[goldenboywrites]

He tries to be better than he actually is. 

Iggy didn’t need his magic to hear the truth in the prince’s words. It was written all over his face. That was something that would have to change when he became King. Having one's emotions shown so easily was going to get him eaten alive by his adoring public. Being alone with Ignatius was one thing; at least he couldn’t take advantage of it, but others would without a thought. 

“I think that must be true for most Kings,” He said, tapping his fingers against his cheek. “It’s essentially portraying yourself one way to appease whoever is around at the moment. Even the best of people lose themselves while wearing the mask.” It made him feel guilty that Julius had stated such a thought so effortlessly and carelessly, and clearly the prince felt some type of way about his confession. Iggy’s first instinct was to make it better, calm him down, and show that he understood the prince’s thoughts. “But at least he tries. That says a lot about his character.” 

He moved forward in his chair, shifting towards the prince, and maintaining eye contact with him. “My intention is not to deceive anyone. It would be impossible to even attempt something of that nature with you due to the bond that exists between us. Your father’s wizard knows that, but he’s playing games, making us jump through hoops because history will remember us, and what we accomplish during our rule. They won’t even write about your father’s wizard when his time is up. One thing about people gifted with magic is that it comes with an inflated ego. He worked so hard to become your father’s wizard just to be outshone by a mating bond. My magic came more easily to me; it’s more natural and powerful. It may take him weeks to learn something that I can learn in hours. I would hate me, too, if I were him.” 

Iggy swiftly stood up, walking across the room towards the prince’s wardrobe. “The point of dinner with your father is to simply learn what his wizard has shared with him regarding the bond, whatever he said to get your father to agree to put this collar around my neck because if your father gave the order to do this to me then he doesn’t know the truth of what you and I are.” He sorted through the prince’s clothes, searching for something specific. Something that would draw attention to the ornate collar around his neck in a color that would accentuate the sickly pale tone of his skin. His eyes scanned the clothes until he found what he was looking for. A simple, black, linen tunic-like shirt that would show his collarbones far more than the rest of the prince’s clothing. Success. He grinned, rubbing the lavish fabric between his fingers. “Besides,” Iggy teased, pulling his shift up and over his shoulders and tugging on the prince’s. He turned towards Julius while tucking the extra fabric into his pants, the shirt stuck to him like a second skin. “He’s basically my father-in-law. I want him to like me.”

[magiclwritings]

It was harder now with Everett in this mix. Colter hadn't thought about the implications of everything going on. He was as he always had been, concerned with himself. But seeing the way his lover and friend peered in at the pair of them, well, it made Colter a bit queasy. And not in that love sick sort of way. In an actual sick kind of way. He'd seen that look on August's face before when Colter would have to entertain whomever was visiting the court at the time. But that was different. That was a duty. Part of who he was and would always be. This, Colter was completely out of his league with and it was beginning to unnerve him all the more.

He stood straight then and made his mind up to keep himself between the two for the time being. That was surely a disaster in the waiting. You can do this. That voice nearly shot a visible chill down the prince's spine. For it was August. Not here in this room but the memory of nearly every time he'd ever told him so in their past. Try as he might, Colter couldn't stop himself from looking over at that man. He was August. He just had to prove it to him. There wasn't a fiber in his being that didn't believe it. But for now they needed to get home. Maybe everything would be better once he was surrounded with his things.

"Thank you." Colter spoke softly, turning to look at Everett just then. He could still see how tightly drawn his jaw was and decided better to not poke the bear at that moment. "Why don't we give Aug- ..." Colter stopped himself and cleared his throat. "A-sa, time to gather his things." His head nodded turning back to face the other. His stomach sank and the prince just wanted to run to him and forget the last however many weeks. "Sound, okay?"

Colter didn't wait for an answer and instead was quick to slide himself up to Everett's side and place his hand on the inside of his elbow, pulling him in closer to him. "Meet us out front." He paused, looking him over one more time. A part of him was scared to take his eyes off this man. The last place he lost him had been here. But something felt better than it at the first time. He just couldn't figure out what could have been different aside from the time of day. And, well, there hadn't been any trips to the cellar. He thought to ask Everett about that again some day.

With the two of them out of the room, Colter turned on Everett quickly. Both his hands rested on the man's shoulders and he pinned him gently to the wall. "I know you're cross with me." He spoke quickly, not giving him a moment to think before anything else. The prince bent in and kissed his lips so softly for just a moment. The tingle was still there when he pulled back to look into those warm pools. Though the confusion looked to be just as prevalent if not more so now. "I just ..." He sighed, squeezing onto Everett just a little tighter. "I know that's him and I know you think I'm mad for saying so." The flex of Everett's brow told him everything he needed to know.

"Just tell my father I insisted. If it really is that much of an issue." He didn't enjoy being weak as his father would put it. But he also knew that to save face, Colter's fits would get him just about anything. "Please?" He damn near whimpered. "I'll do anything if you just help me with this."

[goldenboywrites]

Everett followed Colter out of the room. He was relieved not to feel Asa’s gaze upon him, studying him. It was unnerving to see August, but it wasn't him, despite what Colter believed. “Colter,” Everett warned, allowing the man to push him against the wall, but a part of him knew what this was. He wanted to believe it was the prince being affectionate with him because he wanted to be, but Everett wrote the playbook for using touch to manipulate. “I’m not cross.” He was. “I’m afraid you’re seeing August when it’s just someone who looks like him. You haven’t ventured out of the castle much. You don’t realize that there is a slew of these workers who purposely alter their features, hair, clothes, and even their voices to mimic court royalty. A worker like him is paid more because of how he resembles someone from your court.” 

He didn’t want to tell Colter the truth that his father wanted August gone or that Everett had a hand in it, even if he didn’t try as hard as the King had demanded. Everett assumed that as soon as the King saw what Colter dragged back to the castle, he would handle Asa personally. At least Everett wouldn’t have to dirty his hands this time. 

“I understand you miss August and you’re reaching because you want him back,” Everett spoke softly, bringing his hand up to Colter’s shoulder and smoothing out his shirt. “But forcing August’s identity on him is only going to hurt you in the long run when you realize it’s not him, and he never will be him.” Everett wanted to shake Colter out of his delusion, force him to see the truth. “You’re bringing someone who sells his body back to the castle and forcing him into your counsel. If August were here, he would lose his mind over this, and he would tell you no.” 

It was in this moment that Everett realized how stupid he had been to be jealous of August all of those years. Being the voice of reason and being the bad guy was horrible, but looking at Colter’s face, seeing the hurt and need in his expression… Everett sighed; he couldn’t tell the prince no. “I’ll do what I can to help with your father, and I’ll keep an eye on Asa while he’s living in the castle. I’ll make sure he doesn’t steal valuables or try to sell himself to the guards.” Everett couldn’t hide the bite in his voice. “Anything else you’d like me to do?”

[magiclwritings]

Reality was starting to set in and this whole thing was truly laying out before the prince. The more he thought about and immersed himself in what was to come, the more he wanted to push it as far from him as humanly possible. But he couldn't. Not with Iggy now collared and looking to him as if he was the one that would have all the answers. The fact that his father was going to meet his untimely demise at any moment was just starting to reach it's way to his complete understanding and the paranoia was starting to settle in properly. The prince could feel his heart starting to flutter and instead he drew in a deep breath and closed his eyes.

Iggy's words crossed into his mind and he took them into consideration. Because at the end of all of this it was going to be the two men seated so closely in this room together. No matter what his father had taught him, showed him or bestowed upon him would be immortal soon. He'd step into his rightful place and this man would be his right hand. His everything. Did that mean that he was only to think of him then? But surely that wasn't true. His father had never shown that to be the case but then again; after seeing that collar and the subsequent actions that followed wasn't something he'd thought would ever happen. What he was coming to realize was that whatever happened, would happen at his say so. Just like his father now had.

Julius took the goblet from him and drained the rest of it. Something told him there'd be more than a few empty goblets for him later on. "It would irritate him, yes," He hesitated, dragging the tip of his tongue over his lower lip to catch the last bit of wine threatening to drip from it. But something just felt off. "I don't know." He answered honestly because that was all he could think. There'd been so much that happened and he was just trying to catch his breath. "What if something goes wrong and ..." He didn't know that it was a possibility but he'd never seen this much emphasis placed on a person with magic before. Not in person nor in his teaching from the books of before.

"If you'd have asked me before the collar ..." He shook his head, moving the goblet back and forth between his hands just then. The prince leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees, steadying himself just so. "I wanted this to be easy." The words were out before he could stop them and he promptly shut his mouth. It was only then that he allowed himself to look back at Iggy. His longer curls framing that too thin face. Was this the best place for him? The loss of color and vibrancy he blamed on the sinister magic of the ugly thing at his neck. But still was he the best judge for his well being? Or his kingdom for that matter. "I .. I think I'd feel better if it wasn't just us." He knew before Iggy spoke that he'd be disappointed in his decision but he was still too new and the future that fate had dealt to him this afternoon was too much to stomach.

[goldenboywrites]

He used to be that way too. Naive about magic. Iggy was happy to see it wasn’t just him that to learn the hard way that magic was never easy. It tainted and complicated everything it touched. He didn’t fault Julius for not knowing. How could he? The prince had been raised to believe that magic would grow his rule. And now that it was right in front of him, he was learning that all magic came with a cost. The universe was giving Julius Ignatius at the cost of his father. 

And a part of him was relieved too– at Julius’ denial of bonding just the two of them. It would have been risky, especially with Ignatius not having a connection to his magic. He didn’t know all of the details pertaining to the ritual, but what he did know was that it didn’t require much magic from his end. He understood Julius’ point though, if something went wrong and it was just the two of them, who knew what could possibly happen. 

“Then we need to cozy up to your father. Sooner rather than later and by soon I mean, tonight.” He leaned back, folding his arms over his chest. He rested the side of his head against the back of the chair, keeping his gaze upon the prince. “We need to see how much influence his wizard has over him. He may be our only hope to get this,” Iggy pointed to the collar, “off as quickly as possible or at least get him to see reason why this isn’t necessary. It’s not like I can hurt you without hurting myself. I don’t know what kind of lies his wizard has placed in his head and the only way for us to figure it out is to talk to him away from the man.” 

Iggy knew going forward with this plan that the King’s wizard would catch wind of it. He wasn’t sure how deep their connection was to each other. He knew it wouldn’t even come close to matching the kind of bond Ignatius and Julius would have. But he was banking on the King’s excitement about his future bond with Julius to intrigue him enough to come sit down with them. “Tell me about your father,” He asked the prince. He didn’t know much about the royal family other than the few moments he had met the King when he breached the castle. “What kind of father is he? What kind of King?”

[magiclwritings]

He had to hand it to Max, when he really wanted something he was cool, calm and collected. Whatever made his brain actually focus in was incredible when it was working ... properly. Cesare loved Max and his antics and sometimes he forgot that this was a part of him too. A soft smile crept on his lips as he looked at his best friend. Though he attributed the fuzzy feeling to the shots they'd just downed. He exhaled loudly and finally turned to see what it was Quin had gotten himself into. The spike in his blood pressure was a bit unexpected and Cesare was on his feet before he knew it.He only gave a look to Max before he was headed for the dance floor.

Once his feet hit the bottom of the steps he was able to gain a little bit of clarity. Get a grip. He rolled his shoulders back, a few vertebrae popping as he did so and he began to make his way towards the bar first. He could see that man getting incredibly hands and it spiked his blood pressure all the more. From out of his periphery he saw Carter giving him a rather odd look. Cesare held his hand up and squeezed his fingers as if to gesture a ball in his hand. The other gave him the oddest of looks before deciding it was the towel on his shoulder he was after. The man shook his head and tossed it towards Cesare.

He caught it with his finger tips and that was when he'd completely formulated his plan. A sly smile crept up on his lips as he began to spin the towel between his two hands. Though it got a bit dicey once he'd actually gotten back into the crowd, he'd be speaking a prayer to whomever would listen. And thankfully, they seemed to be smiling down upon them in that moment. Cesare caught Quin's eye and ducked back behind the man, rolling the towel as quickly as possible and then he flung it towards the man's backside with a wicked force.

The crowd around could hear the crack even over their music and it cause Cesare to smile all the more wide at his back as he began to turn around to see exactly who'd cracked such a vulgar and crisp towel whip to his backside.

"Doesn't look like that's going to get you anywhere there bud." He starter, gathering both ends of the towel in his hands again and he slowly began to tighten it once again. "Think you might want to step off before I welt the other cheek." His gaze drifted to Quin then for just a moment, unsure of the look on his face. He was pissed but he couldn't decide if it was at him now or just the idiot between them. "Or would you just like to ask me for another in front of all these people?"

[goldenboywrites]

Quin’s gaze tracked Cesare as he made his way through the crowd before he glanced back at the man in front of him. The stranger was pouting and pleading, reaching for Quin’s waist, trying to convince him to dance with him. He remained stoic, unwilling to show his displeasure and reluctant to move. Quin had always frozen when he was unsure of how to handle a situation. He had done it as a child and as a teenager, so it made sense that he continued to act that way into adulthood. He wasn’t like Max. Max acted without hesitation, most of the time anyway. 

The loud slap of the towel against skin pulled Quin’s attention. He tilted his head to the side to see Cesare smirking behind the man. Upon seeing him standing there, Quin’s body visibly relaxed, and he leaned his back against the bar, elbows pressed on the wood, holding himself up. He would never admit it to Cesare, but playing the role of hero suited him nicely. It didn’t hurt that he was always looking out for Quin, still even to this day. 

“Forget it,” The man hissed, shooting a glare at Cesare and then turning around to face Quin. “You’re not worth the trouble,” He scoffed. The insult landed home, hitting Quin’s most vulnerable insecurity. At first, he recoiled, wincing at the words, but Quin managed to recover relatively quickly from it. He forced out a laugh, waving the man off. It wasn’t anything he hadn’t heard before, and it wasn’t anything he didn’t already know, but knowing that Cesare heard it as well was a sore spot he didn’t want to deal with. 

And then it was just the two of them, Cesare standing in front of him, and Quin unable to look anywhere but at him. He wanted to be upset about Cesare swooping in to rescue him. The insults were on the tip of his tongue. Quin could have told Cesare he wanted the man, had been interested in him, and he could have reminded Cesare that he didn’t appreciate the white knight in shining armor routine. But he didn’t. Be it that it was a rescue he was grateful for, or maybe it was the alcohol in his system softening his edges. Quin wasn’t sure. He didn’t even really care at that point. 

“Smooth,” He said, pushing himself off from the bar and stepping closer to Cesare. He reached for the towel, eyes narrowing when he recognized it to be the one that had hung from the bartender’s shoulders. His jealousy flared, big and ugly, within his chest. Instead of going for the towel, he redirected his path, his fingertips tugging at the pocket of Cesare’s jeans, revealing the baggie he had shown both him and Max earlier. “What are the chances of you sharing these with me instead of the bartender?”

[magiclwritings]

"I know." He told him because that was all he could really say because he did. Cesare knew how important it was to keep Quin here. He just couldn't lie to him. And if he were being honest, Q staying would mean a lot more uncomfortable conversations and definitely no more sleeping in his bed. A part of him wanted to whine out at the loss of that but in the same stroke, wasn't the real thing better?

Cesare brought his hands up to his faces and rubbed vigorously for a moment. His head felt a little fuzzy and when he brought his hands away it took him a moment to regain exactly what he was looking at. Max's face was all blurry and instead found his eye drifting out onto the bar. First to the dance floor, seeing quite a few couples out and enjoying one another fully. He smiled a bit wider as he moved to look for Carter at the bar, seeing if he was ready yet but what he found was that someone else was seeing how ready he was.

His stomach felt as though it were in going to fall out his backside. That hadn't been something he'd been anticipating, Quin interested in someone else. That was probably naïve of him. They could have just run into one another and he shouldn't be such an asshole to assume that Quin was doing anything other than getting drinks for the three of them. His teeth dug into his lower lip and Cesare brought his drink up to his lips and quickly downed the rest of it.

"I don't want to lie to him, Max." He finally settled on. Because why wouldn't it be. "He's not the kid that left us all those years ago." As much as that pained him to admit it to him, he needed to hear it too. He wasn't the young man that left. The one Cesare had pined over for years. He'd grown into ... well, himself he supposed. The hardest part about all of it was that it felt like they both were playing catch up with a man that didn't want to be caught. Cesare couldn't help himself and stole another look back at the man with Quintus. His hands were closer to him to him now and it made Cesare damn near want to hop out of that seat. Thankfully, one of the bar girls slipped two more shot glasses onto the table as she walked by, making eyes at Max as she did so and mimicking for him to call her later.

Cesare smiled wickedly at his friend and pushed the glass towards him. He ran the tip of his tongue over his teeth, mostly just to feel that they were still there from how numb his actual mouth felt at that moment. "Whatever play you want to make to get him to stay ..." He tipped his shot to him and then downed it quickly. The burn of the alcohol hadn't numbed his throat entirely and so he drew in a deep breath. "I'm in. I'm always in and you know it."

[goldenboywrites]

Max followed Cesare’s gaze and found exactly what had captured his best friend’s attention. Quin, feigning interest in another man. It was a nice move on his brother’s part, but Max could see how bored he was, how forced the attention he was giving the man was. It was a show, that much was clear. “Don’t look at him,” Max said, snapping his fingers until Cesare looked back at him. “Don’t give into that bullshit. This means it’s working.” Cesare knew Quin so well, Maximus would never deny that, but sometimes he was so blinded by Quin that he couldn’t see certain things. “He’s not interested in that guy, and nothing is going to happen with that guy.” His eyes flickered back, just in time to see Quin looking at their table and seeing Cesare looking at Max, not at him. His little brother’s brow furrowed. “Keep looking at me.” 

Quin’s eyes narrowed as his gaze flitted back to the man nearly pressed to his side. “Yeah, I’m a real estate agent, making bank, making dreams come true. There’s real big money in real estate…” The bartender passed them, and the stranger waved him down. “Couple shots for me and this sweet thing, please.” Quin forced a smile. He didn’t want a drink. He didn’t even know what he was doing over here. Cesare didn’t care. He had a recurring date with the bartender soon. “Here you go, babe.” A filled shot glass was pressed into his hands, and Quin looked down at it with distaste. “To getting to know each other better.” 

“The best thing we can do is support him with going back, or at least pretend that we do anyway.” Max took a shot, glancing over at the bar since Cesare couldn’t. Quin was biting off more than he could chew with that guy just to prove a point. He was so ridiculous. “But keep giving him those mixed signals where you kinda give it, but pull away. You know, like what he does. We need to act like Quin to get Quin. What do they call it? Breadcrumbing? Yes! See you and I are too eager to fix things for him or beg him to stick around. It never works. So let’s give him a taste of his own medicine for once, and if it doesn’t work, I have a backup plan to fall on.” 

He took the shot and was convinced he would never get comfortable with the sting of liquor. Quin wiped the back of his mouth with his hand and slammed the empty shot glass on the bar. “Well, that wasn’t fun. I’m going to return to my friends now.” He turned to slide away from the bodies at the bar, but was stopped by someone grabbing his arm. Quin was yanked back, coming face-to-face with the man. 

“Nooo, stay. We were talking, and I got you a shot. We can drink some more, maybe dance…” 

Quin scoffed, yanking his arm out of the man’s grasp. “I didn’t ask for a shot. You were talking, and I don’t dance.”

“Ohh,” The man hissed, moving to stand in front of Quin, blocking him from exiting the bar. “I see now. You like to play hard to get. Like to put up a little fight, like to make a man work for it. Okay, I like it.” He took a step forward; Quin took one back. It allowed the man to cage him in against the bar. 

Max tilted his head, reaching forward to squeeze Cesare’s shoulders. “I know it’s asking a lot and I know it’s going to be hard for you, but it might be hard for a little bit, but then we’ll have him forever and that’s…” His gaze shifted to the bar. Max couldn’t see Quin anymore, well, nothing but his curls anyway. “Do you think sending you in to play hero will help our mission or ruin it? Because our boy might need a rescue.”

[magiclwritings]

Kneeling before another was something new to Julius. The sensation alone would have sent him into the next dimension had it been for anyone else. Whatever this bond was between them, he wasn't sure of it nor how he felt about his role in his own undoing of it. Or at least that's what it was starting to feel like. Having no control over his emotions when it came to the wizard before him and his lashing out wasn't new but it did beg the question, why wasn't he better prepared for any of this? For him.

"I'm not sure there is much they can do." He answered absolutely. Not because he wasn't convinced that they wouldn't but because he wasn't sure there was any other options. If what Iggy said was true about what was going to happen in such a short time, would they run that risk of leaving the kingdom vulnerable. Or at Julius would think was a point of being so. A king can be replaced but the importance of the two ruling together, side by side and as one. Well, it hadn't been done without both since the dark ages. Or so the text he was permitted to consume had said. For that much he was inclined to believe it. Death and sickness was all that filled the tomes prior to it. And if it were all the same to him, he'd much prefer to keep his people from dying by simply consuming water from their streams.

Julius pushed himself up from his seat and began to pace around the small sitting area. Mostly because he was afraid to leave Iggy out of his sight. The look on his face and boldness of that collar now confining him made the pits of Hell look more inviting. The prince gritted his teeth, realizing exactly how involved that thought alone was starting to sound. "They wouldn't run the risk of the kingdom falling into chaos but that collar may not come off." That sent a shiver down his spine as well as the next thought to cross it. If they couldn't find a way to free Iggy and have him accepted by the console, that shriveled up sack would never leave the castle.

The prince turned on his heel and took Iggy in as if it were the first time. His curls seemed limp and his eyes much more dull. This wouldn't do for Julius or that man. They may have no agreed but this wasn't anyway to treat a man you were scared of. He'd always believed that. Loving but firm. That was how his mother had always explained life to him. Do not simply take for taking sake but give back for the next. "If the academy isn't going to help you then that's that but tradition must stand." His gaze drifted back towards the door as he started to click his tongue, working some sort of something out.

"Can we not just simply contact who did train you? Surely that has to be acceptable. If you weren't able to train there then surely there are others that would or that the crown would be willing to change for in this instance." There was a clear sign of the end of the rope they were nearing and it locked his stomach up something fierce. "You have to help me help yo- us. Help us."

[goldenboywrites]

Iggy watched Julius pace around the room. The collar felt heavy and cold around his neck. He half expected the King’s wizard to return with a leash for it. He knew what this was about, containing his powers, sure, but the other part of it was a show of dominance. Iggy was coming in to replace him. The dawn of a new King and wizard was upon the kingdom, and this was the man’s last chance for an ego trip. It didn’t help that, with Julius and him being fated, they would be more powerful. Everyone who wore a crown wanted to be remembered, but not many of them had the means to do so. Iggy and Julius would. 

Julius returned to his side, and Iggy turned to him. It was sweet that the prince was trying so hard to help him, to keep him here, to support him in such a way. If he were like this before the bond, Iggy could only imagine how he would be after they fully cemented their bond. “I wouldn’t be able to get word to them as quickly as the King’s wizard can get word to the Academy. He has magic, and I currently don’t.” Ignatius sighed and flicked his hand outward. “He could invoke the trials and make me go through them to prove I’m a wizard befitting a king, I suppose. If he does that, then this collar has to come off.” 

He leaned closer to the prince, propping his chin upon his palm and studying the man for a moment. “How close is your father and his wizard? What if we invited your father to dine with us tonight, just the three of us? He’s got to be thrilled that his son has a mate. It’s what every King who doesn’t have one wishes for his son. If we can get him alone, talk to him, and just let him see us together, then maybe he’ll help us.” People with magic were accustomed to hoarding it, while those without magic were accustomed to showing it off. Even though this meant the King’s rule would end, his line produced a bonded pair. It was the only thing a King could ask for.

“What do you think?” He reached for the goblet again, taking a slow, careful sip. "Or we could just initiate the bond ourselves, just you and I. That'll kill his wizard. He won't be able to witness a ceremony that hasn't happened in centuries."

[magiclwritings]

Tingles shot up his arm as if it were the most normal thing in the world. And then came the warmth. His fingers ached to pull him in so close and yet Colter couldn't find it in him to do it just yet. His eyes looked over the man standing before him and felt as though everything were falling right back into place. But the very last thing he wanted to do was lose his head when they were so close to ending this perpetual nightmare.

"Of course." He answered softly, moving August's head to the side and he just couldn't stop looking at him. As if he' hadn't already memorized every inch of his body but this was different. He felt different. "Everett shouldn't be long." He offered, trying to keep his flinch from being noticeable. Of all things, that man was probably not the one to bring up right then. But he'd been concerned for him too but rather than let any still bad blood linger, Colter moved in and placed a soft kiss to his temple. Behind closed doors should have been okay for August but given the time they'd been apart he felt as though he were truly pressing his luck.

But it was then that something started to feel different. And it started because of the way he smelled. Colter had no delusions that he'd smell of his oils and fabrics he'd worn day in and day out. But this was different. August smelled as though he were another person. Colter allowed the tip of his nose to press against his temple as a soft sigh escaped his lips. "I am so sorry." He whispered gently, his hand lightly running up the length of August's arm.

It'd been at least a few moments before Colter realized his body was pressing into him without hesitation and the prince pulled himself away. This isn't right. Not here. Colter forced a smile and took to wrapping his arms around himself. Once they were home things would start to settle in. His father would .... he could feel his eyes growing at the realization that he'd have to tell his father where he'd finally found August. Surely there was something that could be done. He'd have to get Everett alone before they got back to the castle. Yeah ... that's it. Find Everett.

"Should we have your parents come once we arrive back? I know they'll be so relived to see you." He bit his lip before allowing the thought to push through anyway, "Not as much as I." He teased, hoping to find something to latch onto.

[goldenboywrites]

With the way the prince looked at him, Asa half expected his touch to be familiar, but when he cradled his face in his hands, touched him as if he was someone truly special, there was nothing familiar about it. It was just a soft hand of a royal, stroking his burning hot skin. Then lips pressed to his temple. Asa leaned into the touch, closing his eyes. It was hard not to be jealous of whoever August was. He had this, had someone who touched him like he was holy. Loved him effortlessly. It was confusing, though. This Everett they spoke of, Asa assumed, was the man with the prince, who looked at the prince the same way the prince looked at Asa. Yet, he remembered a brief moment between them when they had been seated at their table. 

So the prince loved this August person and fell in with Everett in his absence. Interesting. Asa could use this to his advantage. 

But he did not want the prince to bring August’s parents around. What if they were able to tell he wasn’t their son? The prince, for some reason, probably his denial, couldn’t see it. Asa wasn’t sure about Everett and the rest; he was banking on being happy that the prince was settled. “Not now,” He whispered, a bit confused when the prince pulled away. “But maybe once I get settled back in, that would be nice.” 

Everett left Rufus’ office and approached the room he knew Colter was in. His steps were lighter, probably from Rufus cleaning him out on every bit of gold the man had on him. He wasn’t convinced this man was their long-lost friend; the problem was that Colter did. He had heard the story from Rufus. Asa turned up beaten and bruised with a piss poor story of being new to the kingdom. Sure, he looked almost identical to their August, but August would rather die on the streets than accept a job in a brothel. 

“We’re good to go,” Everett said as he entered the room, mildly surprised to see both men fully clothed and not touching. Their new addition looked Everett up and down, sizing him up. His eyes weren’t slitted like Everett was used to when in August’s presence. It was a teasing look, like Everett was a puzzle he was determined to solve. “We should head back soon and figure out what we’re going to tell your father before we do.” The King was going to lose his shit. Everett was supposed to get rid of August, and he wouldn’t like a copycat coming back to fill the void. Fuck. 

[magiclwritings]

Few things could sway Dario at that point in his life. He'd found himself a life that wasn't one he'd planned for but loved all the same. His parents were never the wiser and the regional futbol team he contracted with gave him enough plausibility for them to believe that he was just always away for work. And to this day that was entirely true. The kind of work was up to debate but that was neither here nor there at the moment. And as he stood outside the building of where he'd pick up his next job, Dario found himself a bit more giddy than he'd anticipated himself feeling.

Everything and everyone was bustling inside, the smells were fantastic and all he could think was how wonderful this was. Nevermind how the establishment came to be but more because he was impressed. A waitress crossed in front of him and he quickly plucked the first plate he could get his hands on. Hopefully that table didn't get too cross with her. His eyes trained on a set of curtains off to the corner. The fact that two large men were standing out front was a dead give away. He tutted the laziness slipped off to cause the distraction to pull both of those buffoons' away from his prize.

A rather large crash and a shrill scream later, the restaurant was a blaze with chatter and movement. He'd have to let Milo know to watch the sort of tables he allowed into his establishments. The doorway was clear and the smirk that graced his features was one he hadn't felt in quite a while.

"Isn't all this a bit ... your father?" He asked as he came strolling through the door way with the plate pasta marinara. One he'd eaten time and time again. But this felt more like nostalgia than anything else. The food, the atmosphere, his company. It felt like he'd just walked off the bus from a long ass tournament and this dumbass was ready with a table full of pasta and meats for the pair of them. The only thing that was missing was the smell of weed but he imagined that not all of this one's habits died when his old man did.

Dario didn't look at Milo's face but instead spun his pasta around the fork that came with it and took a rather large bite. His eyes fluttered shut and a soft moan sounded from this throat as he chewed and then swallowed. "If that's your mother's recipe you'll need to make sure I get a jar or two. I've missed her cooking." It was only then that he came closer to the man and he set down his own plate the chair opposite Milo. He looked well. Hair was still just as unruly as he truly remembered and those dimples ... "You seem a little surprised to see me." He started, moving to grab the napkin to his right to spread over his lap. "I thought this was the job interview." Dario took the fork again, spinning another mouthful onto it. "Might want to hold a few more spots. The two out there ..." He held up his fork, point at Milo first and then himself, dragging it just in front of his neck. "need a little work."

[goldenboywrites]

His eyes lifted to the familiar voice floating through the room. Then, they dangerously narrowed as he placed it. It had been years since Milo had last seen Dario. They had barely reached the teen years the last time they were together, back in primary school, before Milo had been pulled to be homeschooled. It wasn’t like the private schools could give Milo the education his father needed him to have anyway. They didn’t teach the kids how to rule an empire. 

It had been the hardest thing to go through. Milo loved his friends, school, and most of all playing futbol. He had fought his parents for months over their decision, but no amount of tantrums would give him back what he wanted most. Eventually, Milo stopped fighting. What was the point? Besides, if he wanted to, he could buy a futbol team. Hmm. He may send an offer. His father had never ventured into sports, but Milo bet it would make a killing. All of the gambling… 

But what was still frustrating was Dario's nerve, after all these years, to stumble into Milo’s restaurant as if the two of them had only been apart for a few hours instead of years spanning between them. “You must not have heard the news,” Milo said, reaching for his wine glass and swirling it around before taking a sip. The dryness of the red pulled his attention away from how fucking good Dario looked. “My father is no longer with us.” It hadn’t been a hard loss. His father had always been aggressive and abusive to Milo and his mother. He knew Dario had always seen through Milo’s piss-poor excuses when it came to his bruises. There was no need to put on a show now over it. 

“I am surprised.” He set the glass down and leaned back in his chair, rubbing his fingers against his chin as he studied the man across from him. He was far too comfortable in this setting; Milo didn’t like it. “I don’t recall inviting you in for an interview.” Milo was annoyed that Dario had subdued his men. It was embarrassing, really. The man had been playing for a regional futbol team, the last he heard. He had no business being here before Milo begging for sauce and income. “Is that supposed to impress me?” Milo snarked back, raising a brow at the other. “Oh, Dario, thank you so much for incapacitating two of my men. I appreciate you putting all that effort into piling more work onto me.”

 The truth was, Milo didn’t want Dario involved with any of this work. He was too pure, too innocent, and a reminder of who Milo had always wanted to be. It was too raw, too painful—the life he had been forced to leave behind. “Finish your pasta and leave. I will ship some sauce, but there are no jobs for you here.”

[magiclwritings]

He found it comforting that even if he wasn't where he was meant to be, at least he seemed to be in good company. Not that one could anticipate something of this nature but he was coming around. What choice do you have? He finished what was left on his plate and placed it down in the grass next to them. And it was really only then that what was going on started to have weight to it. Whatever was going to happen was going to happen to him now too. It had always been a joke to not look back on the past but when you were thrust back in, well ...

"I suppose our ghosts will have to tell us who's name made it all the way to the end of time, huh?" He couldn't help but smile at it. It was ridiculous. All of this was and the longer it went on, the worse it was going to be. Grady knew that and he still couldn't stop himself from leaning in to this. Perhaps he'd be able to get back to the temple and find a way back. There were ways to survive here, he just had to be smart enough to not get himself killed or maimed in the meantime. And at the side of a King? Albeit, a dethroned and outlawed king but still. What were the odds?

With a full stomach he was finally able to start to relax. His butt scooted from where he sat and found the ground cool and comforting. At least that was still the same. His hands ran along his middle and he sighed as his feet kicked out towards the fire and he for a moment wished he had a marshmallow. "You know what would sound really nice?" He turned to say just that to Beckett and realized that he couldn't. Even the little things, small and insignificant, couldn't be brought up. Just how much could he actually talk about? He supposed he'd have to be a lot more careful about what he spoke on. The longer he thought about it the more he went down that hole but he could see the impatience growing on Beckett's face. Did his brow always furrow like that? It had to be criminal the way it framed those eyes.

Grady cleared his throat and blushed a bit, not being able to hide it in time. "When we get to a town with a proper ummm ... ov-oven. Yeah oven. I'll have to make this bread my mom used to make for cooler nights like this." He drew his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms tightly around them, his cheek pressed against his knee and he looked right at Beckett. The way the fire licked those features was criminal and he found himself staring longer than he'd intended. "Well ... " He smiled, turning from him to look at their small fire. "If I can remember exactly how. Hopefully I do it justice." He'd really have to think how to make that and pray there was some kind of work around for whatever he did have to work with in the now.

"When are we set to leave here then?" It felt odd to include himself in those plans but Beckett seemed pretty damn set on it so, why not? Grady yawned softly, tucking his face down against his knees again, feeling the warmth envelope every part of him but his back. He had a brief vision of what it would feel like to have Beckett's chest pressed to it. The blush deepened and he curled in to himself. I'm so fucked.

[goldenboywrites]

Beck turned his head towards Grady, smiling at him softly. “We will make it to the end.” He claimed it as if it were certain. Although Beckett knew nothing in this world was certain, he was certain about this. He believed that good prevailed because in his life, it always had. When people used manipulation and dirty tricks, it may appear they were ahead, but they always faltered. Beckett believed in his people; he believed in himself. He would make it back onto the throne. The guide, the man sitting by his side, had chosen him. It was done. 

They had only briefly been in each other’s presence, but he could sometimes see that Grady was holding things back from him. It didn’t bother Beckett too much; he assumed it came with the territory of being a higher power. Grady was here to guide Beckett, not to fix things directly for him. “I think that sounds lovely, Grady,” Beckett replied, “I look forward to trying it in the next town. Just let any of my men know what you need to make the bread, and they will get it for you.”

“The next town is half a day’s ride away,” Beckett explained after a moment. “It’s just over the border, so we’ll be back in my country, but none of us are sure who has allied with my brother and who has stayed true to my rule. Things may change once people catch wind that I am actually alive, but regardless, we must be careful. Our goal is to slowly progress through the outer towns, making our presence known while we gather allies to join our cause. I wanted to go straight through to the capital and confront my brother head-on, but Elias believes it to be too risky. He’s annoyingly committed to keeping me alive, but it’s a relief to have someone at my side who enjoys telling me how wrong I am. It keeps me humble. Anyway, we don't have an extra horse yet, but you'll ride with me until we can find one for you. Is that suitable for you?”

[magiclwritings]

Watching siblings was an odd thing. And something even more odd to Cesare in particular. He loved both of the men his opposite. Max, for reasons and people that would remain nameless. For experiences and travels they had. For shared space and years and years of every day together. There were countless reasons for Cesare to love Max and he would for years and years to come. But Quintus was different. The same feelings came forward, the fondness and needing to be around him but the feelings that came up around Quintus had always been different.

"It's funny you bring that up." Cesare smiled right back at him. He felt that tense in his bones and from the look on Max's face, he was ready to see a little fireworks. "Usually when someone can't stop talking about a certain subject it's because they themselves continue to daydream and even regular dream of that very thing." He had no idea if any of that was true but he'd been told by a few women in passing and this bartender they were spatting over at the moment. So if for no other reason than he felt so certain Quintus wouldn't call him out on it, he continued on.

"Carter is actually looking for an internship and I promised I'd help him get in with another firm." He told him plainly, mostly because he knew Max was already aware but that little bratty attitude from Quintus was not going to fly with him where it concerned that person. They were a friend and had been a shoulder for things that Cesare couldn't tell Max about. Mostly about the younger man at his side there. "He's meant to take a drug test here in the next few weeks for it so I thought we'd celebrate with a ..." He trailed off, leaning back in his chair to dig through his pocket. Once the baggie brushed his fingers he smiled and yanked it out, showing the brothers proudly. Three already rolled extra long joints. "little something." He smiled, seeing Max beam back at him.

Cesare couldn't quite make the look on Quin's face and thought better than to continue to wave it around. "Nothing special but it's good." He threw his hand in the air then, trying to attract one of the walking waitresses. He was going to need a few more shots if Quin kept on like that. And from the looks of Max, the alcohol was going down rather well for him. "Did you want ...?" He started to ask, brandishing a grin when he caught one before he brought his attention back to the table, completely unaware his train of thought had left all of them. "Yes?"

[goldenboywrites]

“Is that so?” Quin asked, tilting his head to study Cesare across the table. “Did you hear that, Max?” He turned his attention towards his brother, a smirk gracing his lips. “Cesare thinks you’re obsessed with him, that you daydream about him and can’t let this hook-up business go.” His lips turned down into a sad, mocking pout. “Poor thing,” Quin reached over and ruffled his brother’s hair. “It must be so hard to watch this happen every weekend.” He wouldn’t let Cesare one-up him so easily. While Quin wasn’t sure what his angle was, he knew there was one. Again, Cesare was playing some sort of game, and he wouldn’t catch Quin in a trap, no matter how hard he tried. 

Quin’s gaze fell to the baggie Cesare was holding, and he held back on rolling his eyes at it. “How cool,” He said, tone flat. He remembered Max and Cesare sharing joints all of the time when they were younger; the two of them would immediately hide them away when Quin walked by. Not that he wanted to partake in something like that anyway. Quin did not enjoy losing control over his mind or body. Maybe he wasn’t fucking the bartender, not that Quin cared, but Cesare clearly cared enough about the man to hook him up with an internship and to bring him free joints. At this point, he might as well fuck him and get something out of it. 

He didn’t understand it. 

Quin was frustrated and annoyed. It didn’t help that the shots were making his head fuzzy, and he didn’t feel like he could keep up with this conversation any longer. “Nothing,” Quin answered Cesare, reaching for another shot and knocking it back. Their drink tray was nearly empty, and while Cesare had attempted to wave over a worker, Quin needed a break. “Don’t worry about flagging down a waitress. I’ll go grab us more drinks.” Then he hopped out of his seat, took the tray, tucked it under his arm, and made his way to the bar. 

He was waiting at the bar for Cesare’s buttbuddy to see him when Quin felt a hard body press uncomfortably close to his side. “Did you sit on a box of Lucky Charms?” Hot breath hit the side of his face. Quin turned to find a stranger leaning in close to him. “Because that ass is magically delicious…” 

At first, Quin ignored the man pressed against him. His gaze shifted to the table, where Max and Cesare were talking. He didn't want to go back over there. He knew they were talking about him. He knew Cesare would be leaving soon to meet the bartender to smoke joints or whatever, and even though Cesare said he wasn't sleeping with the blonde behind the bar, Max had been adamant that it would eventually happen. He wanted it to happen. "Hi," Quin said softly, turning his head back to the stranger next to him. He leaned his hip against the bar, nodding towards the wall of liquor next to them. "Buy me a drink?"

Max waited until Quin was far enough away from the table. “What are you doing?” He hissed at Cesare, punching the man’s shoulder. “I wanted him to think you were fucking the bartender,” Max whined, kicking his foot out and hitting Cesare’s shin. “He was finally showing some kind of emotion and was getting all jealous. And then I thought if  I acted all indifferent to him leaving, he’d want to stay. You went and ruined it by friend-zoning Carter.” He sighed, tossing his head back and looking at the ceiling. “I need him to stay, C. I want him to want to stay.”

[magiclwritings]

The smile on his lips couldn't be helped. If anything it was because he'd never considered how he would describe what he does for work. Settling down hadn't occurred to him either. Well, not in a truly permeant sense. With another person that was. He had the family home back in the Louisiana and the fishing shack somewhere in the bayou if it hadn't fallen victim to the last hurricane or friendly neighborhood gator. But to truly say out loud what he was, his intentions and truth; that wasn't something he was quite sure he was ready to share. No matter how pretty the blonde.

"I wouldn't worry too much if I were you." He told him rather matter of factly. Because the truth of the matter was, unless you pissed them off there wasn't much need aside from the feed. Occasionally there was a rogue one here or there that needed to actually be slain in the truest sense of the word. It'd been far too long since Flynn had had a kill that satisfying. All he could hope for was that the streak was on it's way to a swift end in the coming weeks. "They don't like to upset the balance of where they're currently shacking up." Flynn gave him a once over, satisficed with the tape and setting of the bandage.

"You'll have to make sure you keep it clean." He told him, gesturing towards it for good measure. His hands balled up the trash left over and he squeezed it all tightly in his hands. Flynn placed his elbows on his knees and leaned in towards Dodger, still inspecting him as if some sort of clue may jump out at him as to the mystery of the hoard of this place but he was either really just that clueless or he was leading him right in to the den with open arms. Both were horrific and nauseating thoughts but somehow still seemed too crazy for a meeting like this upon his arrival but weirder things had happened before.

"If it would make you feel better ..." The words were out before he could stop himself and instead he took to digging those chompers into his lower lip. He'd already started and against his better judgement continued to offer himself to help this man. The weakness for blondes was going to get him killed one day. Perhaps even soon but he had to admit, getting to see this one actually throw a proper punch might do all the right things for him. "I'd be willing to show you a few moves to help protect yourself." He should have added that most of what Flynn could and would teach him, wouldn't really matter in the end. A human without proper training and weapons was no match for a vampire. Especially the ones here if they're as well fed as the one he saw tonight. There was going to be a hell of report for Central after this night. "Maybe not tonight but after you've healed up. Flynn motioned towards his own neck and smiled softly. "Believe it or not, blood is not actually something I am gung ho to see all the time."

[goldenboywrites]

“I guess it makes sense,” Dodger said, fingers brushing across the secured band-aid on his neck. He noted that Flynn wasn’t answering his questions about being the slayer. He doesn’t trust me yet. Which was smart of the man, but frustrating for Dodger. “If they cause too much commotion where they live, people will start to notice and once they’re discovered they’re fucked.” Dodger had to give it to the slayer. He knew the thought process of vampires quite well. They couldn’t act feral like nature intended, not if they wanted to live amongst the humans. There was no point in setting up their lives here if they had to move again after too much killing. But Dodger already knew this information; it was information he lived by. He needed more from Flynn than this shit. 

Dodger had to admit he was impressed. Flynn wouldn’t be an easy nut to crack, and he liked it that way.

This was an in and one he couldn’t refuse. “You would do that?” He asked, face brightening at the offer. If Flynn trained with him, Dodger would be able to understand his fighting style. In a way, this was even better. He could figure out how to beat him physically if he couldn't get information from him. “But if you show me some moves, you’ll stick around to protect me, right?” He grinned and leaned forward, resting the side of his head against Flynn’s shoulder. “Now that I know what this city really is like, it makes me feel safe knowing you’re here, but it wouldn’t hurt to learn a few moves just in case.” 

He sighed, keeping his face against Flynn’s shoulder. “It must be lonely being the slayer,” Dodger commented after a quiet moment fell between the two men. He turned his head up, looking at the man. “Not being able to tell the people close to you who you are, in case it gets them hurt. Carrying the burden of this huge secret. How do you handle it? I don’t think I could be that strong.”

[magiclwritings]

A small part of him wondered for a brief moment if this is what his fits had felt like for the others. It was a surreal feeling. Of having absolute knowledge of something and the rest of the world looking at you as if it weren't. Maybe it was just a continuation of his own delusions. Whatever it was, Colter had decided that August was coming home where he belonged come hell or high water tonight. What he wasn't prepared for was the on slot of accusations that erupted from him once they were alone.

The way he was speaking as if this were truly his life was what was truly throwing Colter. A part of him thought that once they were alone that act would drop but he was holding true and a piece of Colter started to shrivel inside of him. Those eyes looking at him from across the room were not ones of love but rather they were just empty. His hands clasped at his front to prevent the man before him seeing him starting to shake. Because the ground beneath him was very unstable, metaphorically, and Colter was attempting to find reason in what he would say to the man he'd been without for weeks on end.

"The last time we were here was the last time I saw you." He told him plainly. Colter began to chew on his lower lip, terrified that this was some sort of game that he could lose and lose August all the same again. "Everett said you went to go get us drinks while I was playing cards and you ..." He drew in a deep breath because Colter knew how that night ended and how he'd left at his friend's request, so certain that August would return on his own. That he was simply sleeping off all the fun he was out having that night.

The prince swallowed hard and took three steps towards the man, so put off by how he lounged like that. How many people had he done this for? "August ... " He breathed, trying to keep the smile on his face from growing on his face at just the name and the man in the same room. "I've have had people looking for you the whole while." The prince came to stand at the end of the bed, not close enough to touch him but close enough to see his features. How he longed to touch him, his hand even stretched out towards his cheek as if to cup it. "It's time to come home."

[goldenboywrites]

Asa sat quietly on the bed, soaking in the information that the prince was spewing. He obviously thought that he was this August person. Perhaps, Asa had it all wrong. The dark-haired man and the prince were not lovers, but the prince and this August had been. He must have looked like Asa to provoke such a response in the prince. He could continue to deny the prince, but that wasn’t getting him anywhere with him. No matter how often he tried to explain that he didn’t know the prince, he continued to insist that he did. 

What if he went along with it? 

It was possible. If it got him into the castle, he could store away items and coins to steal if the prince ever realized he wasn’t his August. That way, if he got kicked out of the castle, he wouldn’t have to return to this disgusting tavern. It was risky, but it wasn’t impossible. Asa had learned how to read people working with Rufus; he had become a good actor, pretending to be flattered by the customers he entertained. 

Interestingly, the prince lost this man here at the tavern, but again, it couldn’t have been Asa. He’d only been at the tavern for a couple of weeks now. He didn’t think much about it; it worked in his favor. It wouldn’t be hard tricking the prince; he had so much guilt that he would believe everything. No, it would be everyone else back in the castle, which would be much harder. It wouldn’t matter much, though, as long as the prince believed. Asa would have him eating out of the palm of his hand. 

He pressed his cheek into the prince’s hand, feeling the warmth radiate and seep into his skin. “I knew you would,” Asa said softly, nuzzling his cheek against the hand that cradled him. “And you did so well.” In his experience, men liked to be reassured, placed on a pedestal, even idolized. Whoever August was, it was clear the prince had lost him. Maybe they broke off their affair, and August left the castle. The prince had men looking for him and longed to bring August home. He was no different than most men out there. He wanted to be a savior. “Promise we can go home?”

[magiclwritings]

The night? That was the oddest two words that could have been put together when it came to Colter in that moment. This wasn't just for one time. This was for always as it had been intended. And even looking at him then, that was always going to be the case. What he wouldn't give to melt into him right at that moment. To feel his familiar hands on his body in any capacity would feel so welcomed. He'd been starved for it for too long. And while he'd delighted in Everett, what August and he had could never compare to what he took in the mean time. That was the way he remembered it and that was how it was going to be no matter what.

"He's not yours." Colter spat at the bar keep. Mostly because that tone reminded him of his father and the grip on that man's ankle was the very same he felt around his neck day in and day out as the crowned prince of their region. His eyes narrowed and he knew it was going to be hell if he lost it. But August was right there. This could be fixed if he could just touch him. His fingers ached to reach for him but that was the way of it. That wasn't their way. Everett's voice did little to soothe him but he knew that he'd help him.

The prince looked down at his friend in the chaos and found that the look on his face gave him pause. There was bewilderment at his actions of course but it was almost like he was afraid. But of him? Colter hadn't stopped to consider what he'd done until that moment. His eyes fell to the floor and slowly up to his own feet. Things felt as if they were getting fuzzy at the edges and he couldn't afford to lose focus. Instead he closed his eyes so tightly he could feel his forehead wrinkling with the effort.

"Wh- .." He started, taking a half step back towards Everett. He hated that he gravitated back that way but he had no choice. Whatever was going on with August and this man was out of his control and he couldn't stand for him to be hurt. It was really only then that he'd started to process what the man behind the bar wanted. His hand slid to his belt pouch, jingling the coins in it at his side but he somehow felt that wouldn't be enough. Not with how the crowd was hollering for him. It maybe him absolutely sick to his stomach but Colter had to have him back. At least to know if ... if this is what he truly wanted.

His gaze drifted onto Everett but he didn't say a word. Instead he simply plucked the garnet ring from his pinky finger, his mother's, and offered it to the man that had hold of August. The flash of red that caught his eye as he did so sent a shiver down his spine but he would happily give over one of the last piece of her to have him back. "A life for a life." Colter told him, dropping it into his open hand as well as the small pouch from his waist. His eyes scanned back up to find August. The look he couldn't place and it made him want to vomit. To have known this man for most all of his life and to be looked at as if he were some stranger was something Colter wasn't sure he could ever reconcile.

"Buy him outright, Everett." It wasn't a question, that was an order from the prince. And Colter rarely ever pulled rank amongst themselves but he would to ensure not a single hand land on this man was without his consent. "Whatever number he thinks of, " Colter tucked his now bare hand behind the other and pressed it to his stomach. The temperature fit how ghostly he felt in that moment. "Triple it." Colter's cool eyes fell onto August and he forced a smile, knowing this to be some game. It had to be. Colter found favor in Everett and this was his penance. Whatever this was, Colter would dive through the rivers and oceans of the underworld to bring it all back right.

"Auggie ... please?"

[goldenboywrites]

Rufus slipped the ring into his pocket and held it tightly to the coin purse. “Asa,” He turned towards the young man, nodding towards the back rooms. “He’s paid for your time tonight. Take him to a private room while I discuss business with Everett here.” Rufus slipped from behind the bar, clapping Everett on the shoulder and leading the man away. 

Asa climbed from the bar, watching Rufus and the prince’s companion leave them. His head was swimming with questions. Why had the prince looked at him like that? And why did he want to buy Asa’s contract? Tripling it? It was insane, it was crazy. They had never met, yet he was determined to have Asa by his side. He wasn’t sure what it meant, but Asa assumed he would be out of a job here. What was it supposed to do? Live on the streets? None of it made sense until he heard it. Auggie. The name was said with such softness, a whisper of a plea, but Asa didn’t know who the prince thought he was. He almost regretted trying to seduce the prince into buying him tonight. It was turning out to be so much more than he had expected. 

“Follow me,” Asa said to the prince, and then he started walking toward the private rooms.  He picked one of his favorites, different than the one he had for his last customer. 

“Before we start, I want to know something,” Asa turned towards the prince, after hearing the click of the door shutting behind them. He studied the prince’s demeanor. “What is the reason for buying out my contract here? I’m not sure you understand what that means for me. I don’t have anywhere else to go but this place. I don’t want an alternative way to support myself, and I don’t have any family to fall back on to take me in or friends.” Asa bit the inside of his cheek before continuing, relishing in the sharp sting of pain it brought. He made his way towards the bed, and, lounging back on the bed, raised a curious brow at the prince. “Is that who you want me to be?” Initially, he thought the dark-haired man with the prince was his lover, until he heard him utter that name. “You’ve paid for my time tonight. I can be whoever you want me to be.” There were deep-rooted feelings there, and Asa just didn’t know what he had to do with them. 

[magiclwritings]

There was this sound. One he recognized and knew very well but there wasn't a thing on the earth that was going to stop him from getting to the man on that bar. Because that was August. Even with the longer hair and leaner physique he knew it was him. Why he was up there was irrelevant. Colter could have cared less whatever circumstances landed him there but so long as he could have him back then all would right in the world. He wouldn't feel so disjointed and wrong.

"August!" He shouted, not being able to grab his attention amongst the rest of the patrons eager for his attention as well. It was then that Colter felt how hot the room was getting and he started to look side to side as if getting his bearings. Because he was. His metaphorically orbit had been off for so long that having that man back threw him into ... well, Colter couldn't quite describe what was going on inside of him. His hands were at the laces of his shirt to loosen them, give him some breathing room in this crowd of people. Why is everyone so close?

Colter gave his head a hard shake and saw that August was coming back down towards him. Without another thought, the prince stepped onto a patron's lap and then onto the bar itself. The roar of the crowd under him was enough to make him want to throw himself down and curl into a ball. His hands cupped his ears almost instantly. All of it was so loud. "August." He croaked again, looking directly at the man before him. His chest felt like it was caving in and that he couldn't catch what little breath he did have.

"I found you."

[goldenboywrites]

Asa kept his eyes on the prince as he moved across the bar. So many customers were calling out amounts they were willing to pay at Rufus, but there was only one target in his sights. He spun around the bar carelessly, blowing kisses to the crowd and winking at them all while the prince pushed his way through the crowd. He was shouting something, but the hollering of the other patrons drowned him out. 

And then the prince was in front of him, standing on top of the bar. And Asa couldn’t think of a word that described seeing the prince up close. He was breathtakingly beautiful, of course, but there was more to it. He felt familiar in a way that didn’t feel possible. August. That wasn’t his name; it didn’t feel like his name. Asa’s brows furrowed. It wasn’t uncommon that the customers who paid for him called him a different name; maybe that would be the prince’s game. But then he continued, saying I found you. It sounded frighteningly intimate. How was he supposed to respond to something like that? The prince thought he was someone else. Thankfully,  Asa didn’t have to think about it too hard. Rufus had to negotiate everything for him anyway. It wasn’t like he had a choice. 

“Hey,” Rufus said, snapping his fingers loudly and pushing Asa back from the prince. “You want him, you pay for him,” he scolded, wrapping his fingers around Asa's ankle as if he was scared the prince would haul him over his shoulder and run off into the night. The prince looked at him like he was the only person in the room. Maybe Rufus had a right to be nervous about that. “I know who you are, and I’ll book him with  you tonight, but don’t forget that he’s one of mine.” 

Everett fought for his life to get to the bar. When he finally made it, he saw Colter standing on the bar next to Rufus’s new boy. He did look strikingly similar to August, but Everett knew it couldn’t be him. August would never leave the castle to work in a place like this. And he knew that Colter longed for August and missed him, so he wasn’t surprised that he was dead set on this man being their missing Auggie. “Sorry, Rufus,” Everett said to the man. He leaned against the bar. Part of him wanted to pull Colter down, but he knew it wouldn’t happen. “He’s just excited about being out.” 

“I would prefer his excitement stays off my fucking bar,” Rufus grumbled, glaring up at the prince. “You know how this goes, Everett, he either pays for the night or I gotta give him to someone else.” Rufus waved his wand around, gesturing towards the crowd. Then he looked up at Colter, raising a brow.  “What’s he worth to you, Prince?”

[magiclwritings]

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]

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.”

[magiclwritings]

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]

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!”

[magiclwritings]

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]

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?”