" you do it to yourself , just you . . .

. . . you , and no one else . " vitya cristo. 25. executive representative & expansion lead of geni-tek.

[montyprescottjoie]

"Ya couldn' choose? Ya couldn't fuckin' choose? Ya've gotta be fuckin' shitting me! Afta everythin', every fuckin' thing we've done, all the shit thrown at us an' it wasn't enough ta make ya choose me beyond doubt, beyond question! What do I gotta do ta get that? Gotta rip my own heart outta my chest?"

Monty held nothing back. This was quite possibly the first time in his life he said every single thing that came to mind the moment he thought it. He'd always been impulsive, especially in emotionally charged situations, but usually he was able to hold back his most personal feelings, the ones he himself barely understood, or even knew were there.

Eventually, Monty ran out of things to break, and standing still for a moment, he was hit with bone-deep exhaustion. He staggered the few paces til his back hit a wall and allowed himself to slide down and sit on the floor, where he tried to pant and slow his breathing from the physical exertion of his tornado of destruction.

[vityacristo]

Oh, he was going to be sick again. Vitya could feel it, the puke rising in this throat, as Monty called him for the liar he was. For the lying, cheating, disgusting scumbag he was. He, Vitya Cristo, took this man's heart and shredded it, not once, but twice. The pain was spilling out of him. The destruction he left would be more than he could fix- if he could fix anything anymore. He clearly didn't know how. Failure after failure after failure...

Monty slid onto the floor, broken and defeated, as Vitya stood and shook in place. Each breath was ragged, upset to be taken, as Vitya tried to come with something. Anything. The only thing he had was truth, and it was dirty. Ugly. Like him. It stung like the bile burning in his chest. Among a room of destroyed possessions, Monty was the only one he cared of- perhaps that was his issue, why he was so broken himself. He took love as something to own, to have. Unlike objects, though, it can't be replaced when broken.

"I..." He couldn't get out more than that with tasting acid. He collected what little strength he had left, beyond what kept his legs upright. No clock to rewind, no second chance, and he chose to not run this time. He swallowed, and tried to get the words out as fast as he could.

"I-It's not you, I'm..." he stopped. How cliché. It was his fault, but he had nothing to give Monty but platutudes? 'It's me, not you'- His breathing got heavy, eyes wet, as his frustration with himself had no mask to hide behind. "I-I fucked up, I... I betrayed you, I... I'm sorry, I..."

[montyprescottjoie]

Trying to hold back the urge to destroy made his muscles ache as they were drawn up tight. He needed to swing his fists at something, someone, or else his bones might shatter under his taut muscles. His fingernails were digging into his palms painfully, without something to grab onto and rip apart.

The moment Vitya admitted to what Monty already knew the fury won out…

"How th' fuck' could ya!" Monty exploded.

In a split second, he was at Vitya's desk, swiping everything to the floor in rage, and once the eruption began, there was no stuffing it neatly back into its box. It was volcanic: burning-hot tears flew from his eyes like molten lava; the poison sky, filled with clouds of ash and smoke, was replaced with venomous words.

"I waited for you, you piece of shit! -Let me think ya were mine while -‘ve always been yours. The little Prince just had to prove he could have everythin’? Little Suzy Homemaker an’ th’ skank on the side! Was she waitin’ for ya in ya little castle in the sky the day ya walked inta ma lab? What about the time I dropped ya off after dinner an’ showin ya the car? Was she in ya bed waitin for y ta come home?” Monty yelled, entirely unrestrained, stomping around the office, pulling anything he could reach off the surfaces and walls. It was the only way he could restrain himself from beating Vitya to a pulp, or from leaving the room from the window of the 23rd story.

[vityacristo]

The sounds of crunching, crashing, shattering, and liquid splatter rattled his office. His laptop screen snapped when it hit the ground, keys flying. The three separate piles of work files he was behind on, scattered and toppled, mixed together in an impossible mess. Pens and paperclips, even his stupid fucking stamp pad, tossed. Two coffee cups, half-drank, shattered and spilled onto the floor. Even his phone went flying, hitting wall then the ground with a shattering crunch. Vitya didn't give a fuck about any of it. He stood and watched.

With his office in tatters, and Monty a blurry rage, Vitya was the only solitary being in the room. The walls shook with Monty's voice, no doubt the rest of the office hearing the explosion. Vitya's sweaty hands gripped and released, shame coming up with bile in his throat. Monty had it all figured out without him even talking.

He swallowed what came up, lips quivering. "I'm sorry." It's all he had. Even worse than Monty angry over him leaving, when the excuses were plentiful and died as they came out, he had nothing to say here. He cheated. He cheated, was conscious of it, and did it anyway, thinking the reward of feeling good was enough motivation to keep going.

"I couldn't choose..." he whispered. He didn't know if Monty actually wanted his questions answered, rhetorical or not. He did all the things Monty was accusing him off. He had warnings, opportunities to do right, and he didn't take them. He was the spoiled fucking rich kid, just like Monty said, using everyone around him like toys, to be discarded when he didn't have fun anymore. Regardless of how he good it made him feel, he did love wrong. It was all lies, a trick, all the way down to... to how good he felt. Whatever he felt, about Monty, about Lemon... It wasn't love. It had to be something as disgusting as his actions. Love wasn't what he did.

His heart hurt.

[montyprescottjoie]

Monty moved a little farther into the room, needing space because he felt so out of sorts, being confined near a wall was made him uncomfortable and he needed to be able to look at Vitya, to properly gauge him, to read his whole body language, not just his facial expressions, because apparently he'd been reading Vitya wrong all this time because he would never have believed Vitya could do this to him.

"Why? Tell me the truth! Tell me what ya did!" Monty snapped aggressively. Vitya appeared so pitiful and it only served to make Monty’s anger flare. Vitya wasn’t injured or sick or in danger that Monty could see; no mental breakdown or heart failure. He might not be an expert but he was certainly familiar with how they presented in Vit and this wasn’t it, not in Monty’s memory.

So, while Vitya appeared tired, exhausted even, he didn’t have the patience for the kicked puppy expression. He, Monty, should be the one about to cry, or commit homicide, he wasn’t entirely sure yet. First, Monty needed to hear it from Vitya himself, like the way a criminal must plead guilty or not guilty. A few years ago he wouldn’t have wanted to hear the truth because he knew how much it would hurt, instead he would he lashed out first, asked questions later, because he thought it would hurt less. He knew better now though. No matter how good a punch to the face might feel now, it would not make up for how bad he’d feel when he ended up in prison later.

[vityacristo]

'Tell me the truth.' Monty said. The stone in Vitya's stomach surged to his throat, choking him while threatening to be coughed out. He closed the office door, for what good it did at gaining privacy, and cowered in shame with his head down. The truth was killing him from the inside out, like poison, and sounded as much as it came out of his mouth in drips.

"I... I was with someone else." Vitya confessed. His knees threatened to give out with how much his legs were shaking. He swallowed, the type of fear inside him brand new. It truly felt like the world was ending.

"While I was- was starting over with you, I... I had someone at home. Another man." he said, not sure how much he could say before he'd end up beaten to a pulp. His eyes started to climb then, to Monty's face, wanting to see the blow coming when it did finally land.

Seeing the pain there, however, as Vitya confessed his sins, was worse than any physical blow could ever do.

"...I didn't mean for it to get this bad." he whispered, his voice wet and tight.

[montyprescottjoie]

Work, okay, Monty could work with that; he knew where that was; he could get there. In fact, he knew the place quite well; he'd never been inside, but he'd picked up Vit there a few times now, only to pick Vit up outside so they could race around in their car; he'd never been inside, never mind up to the executive levels.

But what the fuck was he doing at work right now?? After that message the night before? Something had already been wrong last night; why the hell would he be at work today?

Monty stood from his spot as more of his cohort began exiting the building. He didn’t want any of them listening in on this conversation. There was a reason he hadn’t shared in the meeting today. It was too heavy, too personal, and too raw. He wanted to be left alone with this hurricane of emotions, but Monty needed to know. He needed to understand.

Once Vitya had rattled off the information, Monty speedwalked back to the subway with his brow furrowed as Vitya explained, albeit incredibly vaguely, the reason for the original phone call.

"Okay, stay there, don'- just- a'l be there al'ight." Monty stuttered out as he picked up speed, jogging the last few feet to the station. "Thirty minutes, al'ight?" He said by way of farewell before losing cell signal going underground to the platform.

Breathing heavily, Monty rode the train across town, unable to calm his mind. Arriving at Vitya's workplace, Mont was forced to show his ID and submit to a metal detector wand as though he were moving through the prison system... Though it was certainly more akin to standard airport security than the invasive nature of entering prison, Monty had far more experience with the Department of Corrections than he did with airports; in fact, the only time he'd been on an airplane was when he and Vit had been to Russia...

Finally, the smooth elevator came to a halt, and the doors opened, revealing the twenty-third floor. It was oddly quiet up here, with fewer staff bustling around and closed doors hiding whatever was going on inside the offices. He knocked on the door to the last office, biting his lip nervously, feeling out of place, even more so than at the fancy restaurant they'd been to on the date that felt like eons ago now...

[vityacristo]

"Okay." Vitya sat in his office when the phone call cut off, listening to the dead line beep for several seconds till his phone faded to locked. Sitting, stewing in his own misery as his death came riding on a subway train. He had no where to run to, no home to retreat to, no plan. Only impending consequences.

Vitya opened his desk drawer and took out a hidden ashtray. From inside his suit jacket came a lighter and a pack of Marlboro menthol blacks. He lit a cigarette, then finished it shortly after. Then another. Then another.

This had to be the longest thirty minutes of his life. Every time the elevator dinged for arrival, he flinched. The truth weighed on him like boulders, making the tiniest breath feeling like it was lifting it all. He was in a cycle of spiked anxiety and impending doom, until there was a knock on his door. A knock that wasn't soft like his assistant, or the rhythmic tapping of his team members, so that meant one person. Only one.

Vitya slowly stood, went over to the door, and opened slowly. He couldn't look up from the floor. If he saw Monty's face, the real one and not the one branded into his memory, he would fall apart. He had no right to do that, to feel bad. Yet, he still did. The presence in his office doorway was enough to feel like Hell's flames had come up to swallow him whole.

He moved to the side, giving enough room for Monty to come in. No hello, no make-out greeting. He was cold, defeated. A shell, cracked.

The door closed and his lip quivered, head hung low. "I'm sorry."

[montyprescottjoie]

Monty let out a huge sigh of relief, that was most certainly audible through the phone line, when he finally heard Vitya's voice.

He hadn't run; he hadn't fled the country; he hadn't abandoned Monty. Just like he'd promised, Vitya had kept his promise! Monty was lost for words. Part of him wanted to scream and destroy Vitya for what he'd done, but Vitya had kept his promise! He'd stayed! That alone made his heart so full.

Vitya's tone, however, had Monty furrowing his brow in concern. He didn't sound healthy, and that cough didn't help dissuade Monty from thinking something was very wrong...

"Where are ya?" Monty quickly demanded. He needed to lay his eyes on the man he loved. Needed to feel Vitya warm and solid beneath his own hands. Even filled with pain and anger, the thought of being without Vitya safely beside him made Monty's blood run cold.

Without Vitya beside him, Monty felt untethered, like a balloon flying higher and higher after the string had slipped from a small hand that had once cherished their prize, only to discard him for a shiny new jewel... How could anyone not discard him? He was no catch, after all, not for someone like the new Vitya.

Even if New Vitya was going to end things between them, replace Mont with a new, cleaner, safer, more appropriate version, or even if the first thing Mont himself ended up doing was punch Vit in the face for what he'd done, Monty had to see him.

"Where are ya? I gotta see ya." He urged, barely a breath after the first demand.

[vityacristo]

Vitya used the hand on the wall for balance to find a nearby bench in the hallway of the office building. His subordinates where shuffling out of the room, giving him looks varying from disappointment, to fear, to rage. He was just as broken as they were in that moment. He had no energy for it, not when Monty was finally returning his call.

"Work." Vitya answered immediately after the second question, to stunned to answer the first. Whatever Monty thought of the voicemail, he didn't sound... mad? Enraged? Desperate, out of breath, on edge. It could be Vitya's imagination, or the pain in his chest reaching out for the man on the other line, either way, there was only one path forward.

"My office is, um..." His mask was breaking down as the failure inside made his eyes start to water. "O-on the twenty third floor. Elevator code 8946, will send you up. Last office on the end." As he spoke, he slowly got up from the bench, dragging himself back into the meeting room where a few stragglers stared while he grabbed his laptop. His phone was still to his ear, a reminder of his failure to them even more.

His breathing picked up as he rushed out of the room to said office. "It's um... I-I need to talk to you. About a lot. And none of it is good." he explained, not wanting to do this over the phone but too uneasy to talk about anything else.

[montyprescottjoie]

Monty made it halfway to the nearest subway station to Vitya's apartment before remembering he'd driven the car. It was only a couple of blocks, but he was so mentally exhausted that he was dragging his feet; a ten-minute walk had taken him half an hour, like he was wearing Cement shoes. His conversation with Lemon hadn't even been all that long, and yet he felt like a completely different person than the man who had knocked wildly at that door searching for his love.

He clenched his fists, feeling the cold steering wheel beneath his palms. Driving back to his own apartment, Monty's thoughts were a whirlwind. Every mile felt heavier, the silence inside his car deafening. He wanted to scream, to cry, to do something, anything, to drown out the ache inside.

Once home, Monty flopped onto his bed, staring at the ceiling, unable to find comfort in the darkness. His heart ached so fiercely that it was hard to breathe. Sleep was out of the question; His mind replayed the moment when he had found Lemon over and over. Every detail was burned into his mind; the terrified blonde he'd almost...

Monty's heart was pounding in his chest, a tumult of pain, anger, and disbelief swirling inside him. Vitya had lied, betrayed their trust, and crushed the fragile hope Monty had clung to. He had thought they were building something real, something solid. Now that illusion was shattered. He loved Vitya. That love hadn't faded, despite everything. A part of him desperately wanted to believe it was all a mistake, that somehow, this could be fixed.

Monty finally nodded off, sleeping in fits and starts as the white noise of the city that never sleeps soothed him. The cool, comfortable breeze from the open window allowed him to nod off for short spurts only to be woken by his own nightmares of hurried footsteps, muffled voices, Vitya's face betraying a flicker of guilt before he hurriedly closed the door behind his lover. Apparently his subconscious felt he hadn't been punished enough by just meeting Lemon...

The temptation to give in—to numb the ache—grew stronger with every passing minute. He considered reaching for a bottle, a crutch he had sworn never to use again. But tonight, the temptation was almost irresistible. The thought of breaking his sobriety, of losing control, loomed large in his mind. It seemed like an easy way to numb the pain, to forget the heartbreak, even if just for a little while.

Monty reached into his pocket and pulled out the little round plastic token. His collection of inscribed poker chips were the only possessions he'd gained in prison that he still owned, and this one in particular he kept close at all times.

His one-year sober chip.

Mont rubbed his thumb over the raised lettering: One Day at a Time, which was inscribed on one face.

In the quiet darkness, Monty made a decision. He wouldn't give in to the urge to drink tonight. He knew he had come too far to let this break him. Instead, he closed his eyes and took deep, trembling breaths, trying to find some semblance of calm amidst the chaos.

The next time Monty opened his eyes, the sun was trying to squeeze through the gaps in his blinds. He hadn't drunk, but he felt hungover; eyes sore and head pounding. He gulped down several glasses of water before his brain caught up with his body. He did not want to be awake, but he knew he needed a meeting, and he couldn't do that from bed; half of the way the program worked for him was the ritual of actually showing up at the place; the video chat groups didn't work for him. He checked the time on the microwave. If he showered now, he could make it to the LGBT Center in the West Village by 11 a.m. He'd figure the rest out after that.

It took until the end of the meeting, during which he did not choose to share, to find the courage to turn his phone back on.

A pang in his chest reverberated to the tips of his fingers when no calls or messages came through. Monty wasn't sure what he was expecting. Did Vitya even know that Monty knew what he'd been doing? Had Lemon confronted him? Had Vitya even made it home last night? Monty'd almost forgotten the voicemail that started all of this, and just like that, panic set in. But he shouldn't be panicking; he should be seething; he should never want to see Vitya again, and yet, as angry and hurt as he was, his heart ached the way it did the last time Vitya disappeared...

Monty sat on the steps outside the LGBT center, where he often stopped for a smoke before a meeting, and hit the call back button beside the voicemail from Vit. He lit up a smoke while the phone rang, needing something to keep his hands busy before he chickened out.

[vityacristo]

Vitya waited. And waited. He postponed a meeting, and waited more. But nothing happened. His phone sat dead on his desk. He sat in his dark office, door locked, and waited for a call that didn't come. He was about to call himself, put the gun to his own head willingly, but had run out of time before he realized. He couldn't sit by the phone any more. He had one meeting, a very important meeting, the meeting, today. The one that decided if Vitya's revisions worked, that his deal was accepted. After half a year fighting to get Monty and his team a six figure salary position. Fighting to make this little punk ass lab with a bully of a boss in New York an industry titan overnight, with an construction plan and ten-year commitment.

Fighting for Monty, while also lying every step of the way. Fighting and lying about the beautiful creature he shared his bed with. Fighting and lying and fucking, then showing up at Monty's place like a child demanding seconds of dessert. All him. All his fault. He cheated, loved two people at once, lied the entire time, he ruined Lemon and Monty's lives.

How ironic, the world was, blowing his life up when the last thing he could do was implode on himself. His limbs ached to give up, not even show up to the meeting anymore, but the pain in his chest surged at the very idea of it.

The pain turned to stabbing when, while in a meeting room full of his team and his father on a massive call screen, he was told his proposal was rejected, with prejudice. He failed. He failed, and if his father said 'come home', he would have no choice but to listen, or risk his entire position as heir.

All of it, his entire life, was shattering. And all he had to show for it was heart rate warnings on his health watch.

Monty's call came in right when his father ended his live feed, the meeting room full of people with their jobs in limbo, staring at him for direction. No time to process, no time to digest, just two rows of eyes pointed at him. And as his mouth opened to try and be that leader he so desperately wanted to be, his cell phone rang. Vitya saw Monty's name, heart pounding with want, and he left them all behind to step out of the room and pick up without hesitation.

He pressed the phone to his ear, his breathing rapid and stressed. His voice came out croaked, strained, holding back the breakdown he wished he could collapse into.

"...I'm sorry." Vitya finally said into the silent line. "I fucked up, I failed, I... I..." He coughed, forgetting to pull the phone away from his mouth, putting a hand on the wall to keep his shaking legs upright. "I'm sorry."

[montyprescottjoie]

"Fine, fine, I get it, ya a big boy now, no trashed dorm rooms for the little Prince." Monty snickered, always determined to get the last word in any 'fight'.

"Ya just gotta get somethin' purple, an' unfortunately it's funckin' luminus purple but a'least everyone else looks nuts too." He teased. Vitya's glowing excitement was infectious. It gave Monty a surge of pride knowing he was the cause of the joy written on that face. Something he had done was making the man he loved this happy. The words to explain how this felt did not exist in his vocabulary. He wanted nothing more in life than to see Vitya this happy every day for the rest of his life...

"Hell no, I ain't playin' hide the cannoli with no ghost." He shuddered with disgust, opting to go with the uncomplicated joke rather than focusing on the subject of Vitya's health when he was doing so well right now. In fact, they were both doing well now with better eating habits and forced sobriety, and he was not about to risk that.

"-'am positive we can think of our own ways ta test ya new shredded bod." Monty teased him like they used to mock the gym bros back in school. In his mind, though, he was busy imagining Vitya pressing him up against the wall, fucking him with nothing but the strength of his abs and thighs keeping Monty from falling; his hands on either side of Monty's head, trapping him to devour him.

"It's fuckin' good pizza; ain't nobody gunna taste terrible." He rolled his eyes, quickly refocusing on Vitya's body. Monty easily indulged Vitya's kisses once he returned with the pizzas. Like he could ever say no, like he'd ever want to say no when they were hungry and sweet, desperate and slow, bursting with passion and joy and heat. Every emotion all at once dancing inside. He wouldn't trade it for the world.

[vityacristo]

"Something purple? I think I can navigate that." he excitedly replied, already brainstorming at just how he was going to wow the room. An event like this was the perfect time to play arm candy. "This is amazing- you're a genuine doctor, holy fuck!" Vitya celebrated again, giving Monty another shake of endearment.

Vitya shrugged his silly line of thinking off; conversations of Monty outliving him were not new, but also, not needed as much anymore. It was a soft spot, to them both, and Vitya wasn't about to push it. "Good thing I wont be an actual ghost for a long, long time." he assured, ready to do so a thousand times if it kept Monty's fears at bay. It seemed his return had only compounded them further. Where Monty cared before, he was vigilant now.

Monty's teasing made him roll his eyes and scoff as he tightened himself up, making the rounded edges firm for Monty to see. He liked being ogled like this. Being desired, being wanted- it filled all the holes in his soul. And Monty was the wonderful gift giving it to him, a treasure to keep tight. "Yeah? You thinking about your feet dangling off the floor, too?" Vitya asked with a sultry wink. Stamina and strength, the two bonuses working out had given his sex life.

Vitya's eyes rolled closed as their kiss went from welcoming to heated, cupping his cheek softly. Kissing Monty was taking it's spot on top of his list as his favorite hobby. The way they molded together was like breathing, or how his heart pumped his blood. Natural, an unthinking task, their lips would slot together and Vitya would collapse into it. Monty truly proved that home was not found in places, but people, and Monty brought a feeling of home that was all his own.

He had to stop them, lest the pizza get cold while they made out. Not an option after Monty left their post-fuck bed to get it. He only pulled an inch away, admiring every facet of Monty's face. "Only one way to test that." he said, side-eyeing the box mocking them both with it's sealed state. It didn't stay that way for long.

Vitya flipped the lid open, met with a pristine pizza, a perfect pause for their make-out. He eagerly went in for the first slice, not wasting any time it a proper home. He brought his legs up on the bed, fully relaxed (And giving Monty a view) as he had at the piece of pizza.

[vityacristo]

Behold, a man.

An evil man. A stupid, arrogant, selfish man.

After Cameron left with a small selection of Lemon's things, the apartment felt like a torture cell. Everywhere he looked, there was something of her there. Her kindness, her trust, her love, that he threw away. That he used to wipe his mouth with and toss like a napkin as he devoured her like a meal. The whole time, he convinced himself it was love... but people don't love like this. Not the way he seemed to. He didn't dare take the cookies out of the oven. Looking at them would only make him sick more. After he emptied what little was in his stomach into the sink, he shakily made his way back down to his car, and got in, gasping for air as his eyes burned.

Vitya got a hotel that night. Not a fancy one, a chain hotel, normal room, someplace where he'd blend in. Someolace where hearing a man flipping between pissed off sobs and loathing whimpers would be left alone. Dogmeat was with him- he brought all of his shit, like his toys and blanket and bowl, but didn't bother to grab his own toothbrush as he left. Whatever, he'd buy another, everything in the apartment soiled with his filth. He picked a pet-friendly hotel, since he would need to leave his boy someplace while he was at work.

And yes, he was going to work. Normally, he'd lie, say he was a sick so he could wallow in the bed and feel sorry for himself. Lying, though, was making him actually sick. He had been doing a lot of that lately, and it was only ruining him more and more.

Monty hadn't called him back. He had to have heard his voicemail by now. With everything going on, with Lemon saying his name to him in the kitchen, the silence from him was unsettling. If he figured it out... And Cameron's words about sharing with the other person... It felt like foreshadowing. Like he'd be doing this with Monty, soon enough. But this time, it wouldn't be like sweet Lemon, where his soul disintegrated, watching an angel die before him by his own hand. No, telling Monty- he may actually kill him. Monty may just decide that enough was enough, and end the pain for good, once he learned just how absolutely Vitya betrayed him. Ruined him. Abused him.

...Vitya might just let him do it, too.

With half an hour till his scheduled arrival time at the office, Vitya gave Dogmeat a quick walk around the outside of the hotel before locking him in the room for the day, having to see if his dog-sitter could do an emergency session. Even doing this felt like agony, a moment of distraction from anything but his regret making the shame even worse. The guilt was eating him alive. But even with all this going on, and yet to go on, he still had a job. A job Monty depended on. And just like how Lemon deserved to live at his apartment even if she did hate him, he had to do similar for Monty. He had to work, because Monty's job depended in him to do his.

Mid-day came and went. Nothing. Vitya's leg bounced as he sat at his desk, the caffeine in his system from six consecutive cups of coffee before ten AM making him both exhausted and wired. He wanted to sleep, he wanted to cry, he wanted- he wanted the pain to stop. He couldn't focus on work, on his father's requests. He hadn't finished a single agenda item today, no analysis sent, no market report, nothing! All he could think of was his fuck up.

And how the longer time went on, the less time Vitya had before he had no choice but to call Monty first. That thought had him biting his lip as he glared out his office window.

@montyprescottjoie

[delicacee-cam]

[Cam took a deep breath and worked to visibly relax the tension in his body. He held a slow, gentle hand out towards Dogmeat to let him sniff it. The dog knew him. Even if he spent most of the time at the sitter's, Cam had been fully living here the last couple weeks, and visited plenty before that. But the poor thing was still reacting to all the tension and outbursts. And he shouldn't have to go through that just because his human was rather awful.] It's okay, buddy. I'm gonna keep my hands to myself now. You're good.

[He looked up at Vitya again.] I need to get back to Lemon, but apparently there's some cookies in the oven. Maybe you can share them with whoever it is you have to go talk to next.

Hope to see you never.

[vityacristo]

[The tension was physical. Cameron wanted to destroy him, in no uncertain terms. After everything he said in that bar, after the crash-out that nearly had him running away yet, the whole time Cameron was the better man. A better man, and better for Lemon. Fuck, Lemon!]

[His silence was becoming it's own reply. He didn't want to stop Cameron from leaving, but at the same time he knew where he was going. Lemon ran out of the apartment, leaving her entire life behind. The one beautiful, bright light that guided his path couldn't stand to be in the same room as him. She was shattering, like a porcelain doll he dropped onto the floor. And with Cameron's wish, never to see him again. Ever. This was all his fault, all him, only him-] Okay. [He croaked out, bloats of sickening defeat and loathing threatening to pop inside.]

[The moment the door closed behind Cameron, Vitya ran to the kitchen sink, and vomited.]

[delicacee-cam]

[Cam blocked Vitya's movements out slightly as he pulled his water bottle down and noticed a piece of paper on the counter with familiar scribble. He read it over, his chest tightening even further as he took in the words. His instinct was to wad it up and throw it across the room.

But then it wasn't for him anyway. He waited until Vitya came out of his room and walked out from behind the island to hold the paper in front of his face.] I believe this was for you.

[vityacristo]

[Vitya was in the room a few minutes. He got Dogmeat leashed, grabbed his suitcase, and hesitated looking around the room. He was still in his club gear from the bar, not at all suitable for work, which suited him just fine. When the paper was shoved in his face before he left, he wanted to blaze past it, give Lemon all the room she needed, particularly away from him. But he recognized the handwriting, and took the note. Dogmeat sat by his leg, eyes on Cameron as his hair started to stand again, but he kept still when Vitya gave him a 'Stop.' in Russian when he started to growl.]

[He forgot Cameron was there the moment he started to read. His breathing picked up, his eyes darted back to back, down the letter then back at the top to do it again. Lemon thought him getting banned was... was her fault? So much so that she not only want to apologize, but try and invite him back? Baked cookies for him?... Words written in earnest, with nowhere to go. The look on his face said it all; 'I can't take this anymore,' as he was frozen in place reading it over and over again.]

[Vitya very much wished to go back onto the floor.]

[delicacee-cam]

[Cam rolled his eyes as he double checked that Lemon's mom's dishes were in the bag.] Now you've decided to believe that. You obviously didn't think so all these months if you thought you could keep lying to her forever.

Please, explain the change. Every other time we've spoken, you've been so firm in your beliefs that you deserved her. That you could give her everything she needed. And it was all while you were seeing whoever this other person is. So you must've believed you could give both of them what they needed without a problem. Otherwise, why bother, right? And now... just because she found out, you're pathetically laying on the floor. Was your bravado that fragile?

[He moved to double check if his water bottle was still in the cupboard.]

[vityacristo]

[Vitya screwed his eyes shut as Cameron interrogated him. If he had answers to anything, any forethought or hindsight, he would have been able to stop himself before things got this bad. Before the lie of 'I can fix this' became all he was. He was right, Vitya did think he could do right by them both. He thought he could bring Lemon out of the pit, the way he had to crawl himself out. And when he found Monty, he wanted to fix that too, take the damage he caused and help in some way with it. He shouldn't have bothered. All he did was make everything worse, trying to be the hero.]

[Vitya got up, very slowly, every fiber of his being aching in shame. His head never raised up to look at the other man, gaze on the floor as he moved for his bedroom without looking Cameron's way.] Nothing changed. [He said softly, two words loaded with more than Cameron could possibly know. Yeah, he was going to pathetically lay on the floor. Out of the way. Tossed aside, like trash should. Fragile? More like made by design. This wasn't the first time he's ruined lives, just the most devastating. Maybe he was working as intended. Trash is unsightly, so if Cameron didn't to see it, then all Vitya had to do was move.]

I'll leave. [He said shortly, his bedroom door open as he wandered in to grab Dogmeat and his collar. He was of no use here, if the sight of him had Lemon running out in tears. And it wasn't like he had answers for his actions, no matter how many times Cameron asked.]

[delicacee-cam]

[Cam reached the hallway and looked down at Vitya for a moment, who hadn't bothered to move at all. He still had rage and disgust running through him at the man. It's not like he hadn't suspected he was untrustworthy from the beginning. He knew the signs all too well after all. But Lemon had been so enamored. So... in love. He wanted her to have that joy. She deserved it.

Without a word, he stepped over Vitya's body and walked back to the room he'd been sharing with Lemon. He collected his own essentials, mostly his contacts, meds, and journal, and stuck them in his backpack. He returned to the kitchen, stepping over Vitya once again, to look for Lemon's bag.]

It was always odd to me. [He said, voice level as he spoke.] How the person actively hurting people suddenly act like they're some sort of victim when it all comes out. All the overconfidence just disappears. They're so sorry and vulnerable. But it's all just another part of the game. I fell for it once myself, but thankfully Lemon is much smarter than I was. Get over yourself and get off the floor.

[vityacristo]

[Vitya didn't reply, or move, or show signs of even hearing Cameron talk to him at all. He couldn't handle what he had to say, anyway. What else was he meant to do? Help her move out, argue with her, make everything worse? He had done enough as it is, and him lying there staring at nothing seemed to be doing harm. He didn't want to get up. He wanted to die here. He wanted it to be over.]

[Where would he move to anyway? He already decided not to leave, to actually face what he did and come back. This was all he planned to do. Who else would want him in their presence? If he saw anyone, from his driver to the girls at the bar to- to Monty himself. That made him curl in even more, the dread and fear washing over him knowing this isnt all he hurt. It never ended, the list got longer and longer, all his own damn fault. And he had no right to be upset like this, angry at himself like a child, yet didn't stop himself from doing so anyway. How typical of him....]

She is so smart. [He whispered to no one, low and pathetic, like a dying breath, not wanting to be seen anymore.]

[delicacee-cam]

Okay. [Cam nodded along. He wasn't sure when Lemon had time to pack anything up, but apparently he'd missed some things while he was asleep. He'd find out someday. Now wasn't the time.] Wait here. I'll go get it and we'll go back to my place. Just sit tight.

[He pressed a kiss to Lemon's head and set her on the step beside him.] I'll be right back.

[nicodemus-lemon]

[Lemon let out a tiny sob as Cam sat her down on the step.

With her emotions running wild, she had no clue what she wanted. Part of her already mourned Cam's embrace while another yearned for the chance to continue her breakdown in peace. Yet another was stuck replaying every moment of her and Vitya's relationship while a fourth found itself dissecting her conversation with Monty from earlier in the night. She was being pulled in half a dozen different directions at once and there was no way to know which emotion or urge actually made sense.

For now, the best she could do was hug herself, attempt to control her breathing, and just try to hold on for just a little longer.] ...O-Okay, [She hiccupped as Cam walked away.]

[vityacristo]

[When Lemon and Cameron ran out of the apartment, Vitya collapsed on to the floor. He was dying. He had to be. The agony, the torment, the storm around him, it all felt like Death. The regret was worse. He couldn't tell if he regretted cheating or meeting Lemon in the first place more. And he knew that was unfair, too. It wasn't her that twisted these soft, precious emotions into something unrecognizable. Into this... ache, this hole inside him that begged for her, but knew he lost her forever. It made him catatonic, on the floor staring into the kitchen. The only sign on life was the occational blink and rolling tear. Dogmeat had trotted into Vitya's room, ashamed after having been yelled at, putting himself in time out in his cage.]

[Vitya could tell by the footsteps it wasn't Lemon coming back into the apartment. He didn't twitch, expecting more screaming, more truth-telling, perhaps even a threat or two. He stayed put, in no position to fight back or deny anything Cameron had to say. Vitya had abused him too, in a way. Dragged him through the mud just so make himself feel less dirty, less undeserving when the other man was clearly better than him. After a night like tonight, that was not a hard standard to beat.]

[When Cameron entered, his eyes flicked to him one time, before staring back into nothing.]

[nicodemus-lemon]

[Lemon kept her laser focus on Vitya, her jaw clenched and her hands white-knuckling the table. "I'm sorry"? The best Vitya had was "I'm sorry"?! She wanted more. She needed more. She needed a true response, an explanation, an anything that would atone for what he stole from her: Trust. Love. Health security. Dreams of her future. Months of her life. Vitya stole it all from her and then some. He violated her in a way Andy and his ilk never would've even dreamed to. And for what?! To cower at the door and stammer out piss poor, half-assed apologies? To snivel and cry like he was the victim? At least Ian stood by his horrific deeds and never backed down. At least Andy had the decency to grovel and beg forgiveness. Vitya was the worst of all the options.

Lemon opened her mouth to say exactly that when she caught a glimpse of Cam through the kitchen doorway. (With how much had happened in the last couple of hours, she honestly forgot he had been sleeping soundly in her bedroom during all this.) She turned just enough to look at her bestie and before she could even open her mouth, Cam was rushing Vitya like a quarterback.

She jumped when Vitya hit the wall and opened her mouth to tell Cameron to let him go--a final act of mercy Vitya definitely didn't deserve--but the words never materialized. Not when Vitya spat out the truth straight to Cameron. A bare minimum decency Vitya refused to give her.]

DOGMEAT, HEEL. [Lemon shot instead. (Multiple months of bringing Vitya's dog to the sitter so he could, apparently, go cheat in peace had taught her a thing or two.) As the confused dog came bounding over, she ungripped her left hand and took him by the collar, her nondominant hand still white-knuckling the island.]

The entire time. The entire... FUCKING! TIME! [She screamed, a death grip on Dogmeat's collar and the kitchen island as he body began to shake.]

[delicacee-cam]

[Cam's eyes stayed locked on Vitya's as he held him to the wall. He was seething, holding himself in check when all he wanted to do was shove Vitya right through the wall. His breath was heavy and the room was tilting just the tiniest bit. He could feel his heart speeding in his chest. It didn't matter. Nothing was going to stop him in this moment.]

Of course, you did, you fucking piece of shit. [Cam spat at him.] Had the nerve to accuse us of fucking the day you met me. To hurt her, to watch her break and do shit all about it. Just to distract from your OWN. FUCKING. ACTIONS.

[He glanced back at Lemon, saw the pain her face. Her heart was breaking. And being that she'd owned his heart as well, for quite some time now, he could feel the cracking in his own chest too. He turned back to smack Vitya against the wall one more time before letting him drop.]

[vityacristo]

[When Dogmeat listened to the command, leaving his side for Lemon, Vitya was ready to die.]

[His hold on Cameron's wrist went slack, he stopped pushing for room and let himself be crushed against the wall. He expected to get hit, even closed his eyes when both of their voices raised to screaming, ready to endure physical pain for what he caused. It is what he deserved. Instead, he got slammed and dropped like a stone.]

[Vitya fell to his knees and didn't get back up. He stayed down, weak and feeble, defeated mess. He coughed when the pressure left his neck, having to gasp for air. He placed both hands on the ground, head down. He was in perfect position to be kicked, nails digging in to the hardwood floor as he shook in shame and embarrassment. On the ground, it was like he was bowing, begging on his knees, as he stayed put where Cameron dropped him.]

[Vitya raised his head, looking past Cameron to Lemon at the kitchen counter. Even like this, his chest heaved for her. Even after breaking her, his heart still wanted to play. Like floodgate opening, a branch snapping, or a glass breaking, the voices, oh the damn voices, began singing songs in his head of his own monsterhood, and all he could do was listen. No amount of clothes, exercise, or hand-picked medication can fix what was wrong with him. He was poisoned goods, now a three time champion of fucking up his life and making everyone around him hurt in the process. He was disgusting.] I... I can't fix... I can't fix it, I'm... I'm sorry...

[nicodemus-lemon]

[Lemon kept her chin high and her jaw tight, glaring at Vitya while she waited for him to move--while she dared him to move. So many men over the years had hit her, all with the same bullshit excuse: to teach her a lesson. Well, for the first time, Lemon was the one teaching the lesson and like hell was she backing down. As Vitya squirmed, she stayed rocksteady, refusing to be the one that broke first. She was done breaking down in front of him. If she had her way, she'd never shed a tear in Vitya's direction ever again.]

...You're "sorry", [She shot back. Her tone could almost be mistaken for mocking if it weren't already dripping in disgust.] You lied to me and the best you can say is you're "sorry"? You cheated on me and the best you can say is you're "sorry"?! You broke my heart and the best you can is you're "sorry"?! You're not FUCKING "SORRY"! IF YOU WERE "SORRY", YOU NEVER WOULD'VE FUCKING DID THIS, VI-T-YA! [She suddenly exploded, screeching at the top of her lungs.]

@delicacee-cam

[delicacee-cam]

[Cam startled awake, groggy and confused. Lemon wasn't curled up against him anymore, which was strange. He almost always woke up first. He rolled over to grab his glasses and check the time. He popped up, his brain finally registering what had woken him up.

He hurried down the hallway and found Lemon in Vitya in a stand off. Lemon had screamed at him. Actually screamed. That just wasn't something Lemon did. Cam took a moment to look at her, really look at her, and all he could see was pure rage. This wasn't a Lemon who'd been triggered by Vitya saying something stupid and was panicking. No, this was something else entirely. Someone would have to cross a serious line to cause Lemon to be this truly angry.

The thing was, there wasn't really much one could do to get Cam truly angry either. But there was one thing.

Without another thought, Cam rushed at Vitya and grabbed him by the collar, shoving him against the hallway wall.] What did you do?

[vityacristo]

[Vitya had nothing to say. She was right to call it bullshit. It was. He had no excuse, no reason. It was pure selfish pleasure, and Lemon was used for it. He was going apologize again, for not having anything more, for hurting her. He wanted to beg for forgiveness, even if it meant never seeing her again, even though he didn't deserve it. But before he had the chance, he was slammed against the wall, a loud yelp and a groan forced out of him from the sheer force of it. His back slammed hard, his head knocked back with a yelp of pain. The grip of his collar made the tightness in his throat more than emotional, Cameron pulling so hard it was adding pressure.]

[Vitya didn't fight him off, instead a hand snapping to hold his wrist, the other trying to push on the opposite shoulder. He was completely off balance, he'd fall to his knees the moment he was let go, his weight pressed entirely on the wall by Cameron's force.]

[With Cameron on top of him, and Lemon freshly off screaming at him, he had no true fight in him. He let Cameron pin him there, unable to push him off with no center of gravity to push from. His breathing huffed, rapid and panicked, and his heart matched. Dogmeat barked three times, the hairs on his back standing up as he growled at the sight of violence.]

I cheated. The entire time, I cheated. [Vitya spat out, not caring what kind of death warrant he just signed.]

[nicodemus-lemon]

[Knowing the answer ahead of time did little to lessen the blow of hearing it straight from Vitya's mouth. As the admission bounced around her head, she had to grip the kitchen island with both hands to steady herself--for once, not out of fear or sadness but out of rage.]

You cheated on me. Our entire relationship you've been cheating on me! Our entire relationship, you've been lying to me! [She growled as she gripped the island even harder.]

Every time you kissed me. Every time you fucked me--without a condom, by the way! [She spat with tears in her eyes.] Every time you told me you loved me. Every time you made me think we had a future! Every time we did anything, you were lying to me! You were lying to me, and you knew you were lying to me!

All that talk! All that talk about how "special" I was. How you'd "never let me get hurt again". How you'd "always keep me safe!" [She had such a tight grip on the island that her pinky nails were starting to bend, on the verge of snapping right off.]

[A harsh, exhausted laugh fell out of her.] You think you're better than them, don't you? [Lemon spat, her laser focus not wavering from Vitya for a single millisecond.] You do, don't you, Vi-t-ya?! Than Keith. Than Ian. Than Andy. You think you're better than them because you've never hit me.

You lied, you cheated, you exposed me to who-even-knows-what, and you broke my heart into a million little pieces.

But it's okay! It's okay because you never put your hands on me! [She shot, the venom in her voice so thick she could almost choke on it.]

So, you know what?! [Lemon ungripped her left hand and beckoned Vitya towards her.] C'mon!

[She even squared up her jaw and tapped a healed scar near her right temple. (It had to be from Ian. He was the only one who never cared about not hitting her in the face.)] Go for broke! No point in taking the high ground now. Hit me! C'mon. Just do it already!

[vityacristo]

[Vitya had stood through many dressing downs in his life. From the boarding school staff, from his father. This was nothing like that. This was more like being choked out by words alone. His eyes stayed locked on Lemon, just like she asked, but every second was bringing pain. This was... so much worse than he imagined. Turns out it didn't matter if he had gotten on that plane, he felt sick either way.]

[Tempered breaths kept him from puking. He looked away from her once, when she mentioned the condoms- It was worse than that. He didn't use any with Monty, either. If there was anything passing between them, it would be all his fault. God, he was filthy. Disgusting. Wrong. So much wrong with him- It wasn't like before where the wrongness demanded a name. He didn't care anymore. He was simply wrong, and this, everything he did to Lemon and Monty, was what wrong people did. The loathing did nothing for him but make it compound, knowing Lemon agreed.]

[When Lemon demanded he strike her, he shook his head, having to turn around again. Shame, shame, shame. He ruined a good person, stole her trust for pleasure. He wasn't just like Andy and the others. He was worse than them. None of them lured her in like a lamb to slaughter, they didn't hide how much of a monster they were. He swallowed the bile and turned back.]

[Lemon waited to be hit. Vitya didn't move. He stood frozen. It was unwavering silence for what felt like hours, a tension so tight, if Vitya even moved, the air would stab him. He had to break the silence eventually, no time right enough for something like this.]

I'm sorry. [It's all he had.] I betrayed you. And used you. I... [Vitya's voice died, having to swallow to bring it back.] I'm sorry.

[nicodemus-lemon]

[Lemon swallowed hard with her arms still crossed and her back still to the door. 'Of course', she thought to herself as Vitya stammered out a piss poor, half-assed apology. Of course. Even now. Even after all this, she couldn't get what she wanted. Even when all she wanted was a straightforward answer.--As if that wasn't the least of what she deserved.]

Answer my question, Vi-t-ya, [She demanded through a clenched jaw as she finally turned around to face him. Her voice was low and sharp with a fire bubbling just below the surface--a far cry from the soft, gentle, loving voice Vitya had grown to love.] And look at me when you say it: Who. Is. Monty. Prescott?!

[vityacristo]

[His name came from the most beautiful of voices, yet it was the most sickening thing he had ever heard in his life. It wasn't gentle, it was a twisted knife in his chest. The facade he had been living with her, the confidence, was missing now, showing the shriveled self that lay beneath. He lied to her with a made up self, and had nothing to show for it. Lemon had every right to use his name like a weapon.]

[It took Vitya fifteen seconds to turn around and face Lemon. He looked pitiful. His eyes were red, his clothes were a mess, his hair disheveled. He looked like he could puke at any moment. With broken breathing, he confessed.] Monty is... He was... [He cleared his throat, eyes darting away before coming back to Lemon.] He's who I have been cheating on you with.