I'm on Fire with a Blade

Where: The Summer Solstice Festival When: 21st June Who: Brenton && @macwalden

“The bonfire’s shite.” It wasn’t actually that bad. In fact, there was something pretty spectacular about it but in a tame way. Magical defences to stop children getting hurt and families chucking wishes into the flames instead of staying away in fear of being burnt. That was very boring to Brenton. “Wanna spice it up a bit?” Walden wasn’t necessarily who he would usually go to for things like this but he was the person Brenton wanted to spend the day with and with Freya away he had to look elsewhere for someone to indulge his fire-raising tendencies. Ash wandered around them starting to wrap them all a tangle with his leash but Brenton refused to let himself get distracted. “The shapes are cute and all, but fiendfyre ones are prettier.”

Walden was one of the most infuriating people Percy knew and yet, Percy knew he couldn’t quit him. There was something about him that lit a fire in Percy’s stomach, that made him smile when the world was going to shit. Percy thought about him more than he’d care to admit, but he could tell in the way that Walden kissed him, like they could run out of breath before they stopped, that he felt the same. “You know it,” he teased with a wink.

“No,” Percy said. “You’re not forcing me. I don’t know about Brenton. I came to you first.” He sighed. This isn’t what he wanted to be doing right now. Maybe Walden was right and they could just solve it with a threesome and they wouldn’t have to have such a complicated conversation. Percy looked down at their hands and then back up to meet Walden’s eyes. They did need to talk about this. “A comment like that just might make me like Brenton more,” he said lightly. He squeezed Walden’s hand. He didn’t think it was a matter of who he liked more the two men were just different. Not to mention Percy and Walden had more history. But the feelings toward Brenton were new and they reacted in their own kind of intensity that couldn’t be matched by he felt toward Walden. “We’ve been in this for a long time, MacNair. Don’t you worry.”

While Walden tended to keep Brenton grounded, the person who does that for Walden was Percy. Even after decades have passed, Percy still manages to flex the years he has on Walden by being the calm and reasonable person that he is. Merlin, did he want to kiss that smirk off his face. That wink too. Walden would gladly kiss every single feature of his chiseled face.

There was a chance Brenton had stopped breathing. He certainly stilled enough, eyes fixed on Walden like he couldn’t tear them away and his lips parted slightly in shock that those words had actually left Walden’s mouth. He found he wasn’t surprised to make the connection that Walden’s jealousy over Rabastan was tied to him feeling like he was losing Brenton. It settled within him like oh. of course. But for him to actually admit it? Something was shifting and Brenton didn’t know how to react.

He was his oldest friend. His first crush. The man who made him realise he found men attractive. Family, desire, home. But eloquence had left Brenton in the dust. It was easier to act, to clamber over so he was straddling Walden’s lap and pressing their lips together hungrily.

“You haven’t lost me. I—” He closed his eyes and rested his forehead against Walden’s, simultaneously trying to hold him close and avoid looking him in the eye as he said what he needed to. He didn’t know how Walden would take it but if ever there was a time for brutal honesty, it was now. “I do love Rabastan. He apologised and explained himself and I considered giving him another chance but then I’d realised being with him means losing you, and I couldn’t do that. ‘Cause I love him but I’ve loved you for longer.”

Walden didn’t notice that Brenton stopped breathing. He was too focused on his own. It’s not that big of a deal, he tried to tell himself. It’s really not much of a confession. How is it different from Walden saying the first thing that pops into his mind when he’s with people he doesn’t like? How is it any different from telling people that they’re shite? He didn’t think that he would ever lose Brenton. It should be simple, uncomplicated, and succinct. 

He barely had time to react to Brenton straddling his lap before their lips crashed together in a climax he wasn’t expecting. Before he knew it, it was over and Brenton was pressing his forehead against his. Brenton was too close for Walden to look at him properly so he ended up closing his eyes too. The silence between them made it seem like his heart was beating faster and louder.

Sirius decided to drop it. He knew they were going to ask for Walden’s ID and he didn’t know if the man would take more offense if he thought it was because he was below 18 or the real reason: muggles and their rules. “I’ll buy you a consolation drink. Let’s go,” Sirius said. The antics had practically sobered him up and he was in a rush to drink more.

He was sure that Walden would catch on eventually, but he’d have fun stringing him along until then. Sirius tipped back a shot, letting it hit the bar with a satisfying thud. “You’re a smart bloke as far as I can tell. I’m sure you can work it out. Plus, I told you. They light their drinks on fire.”

If Sirius had told him that earlier, he would have calmed down sooner. It doesn’t take much to placate him when it comes to alcohol and where to find them. “That’s two drinks you owe me now, mate.” With that, Walden buried his hands in his pockets and carried on walking through the crowd. He’ll lead Sirius to the bar if he has to. Both of them probably badly needed a drink by then.

Fenrir hated talking to wizards about lycanthropy. They all considered it a curse, rather than what Geri had taught Fenrir - which was that it was a gift. Being a werewolf made Fenrir powerful, more powerful than MacNair could ever dream of being.

He took a step closer to Walden, blowing smoke in his face as he exhaled. “Don’t act for a second like you’re better than me,” he sneered. “I’ve done more in my life than you could imagine doing in a whole lifetime.” He took his cigarette and stamped it under his foot. “Normally, I’d ask you to name your price. But I don’t think I could trust you to speak my language.”

Walden stood his ground, unperturbed by the smoke. Some days, he practically swims in it, depending on the day he visits Merlin Rouge. What’s one puff of smoke from one dude? Even if the dude seems to be the kind of guy who doesn’t brush his teeth. 

His eyes widened, pretending to look affronted. “What could possibly give you the impression that I’m saying I’m better than you?” Walden shrugged. He’s treated danger with nonchalance before. A sneering werewolf was no different. “I simply called it how it is. Unless of course, you, yourself, consider beasts as inferior to men?” Classic MacNair move, turn the table around. “You sound like quite the jack of all trades.” If Fenrir was trying to intimidate him, he’ll have to try again. If anything, Walden was amused.

Percy could feel Walden practically melting beneath him. He was relieved that the man had calmed down enough for Percy to talk to him like an adult. And if anything, there was a small part of him that enjoyed having this hold over the younger man. “Later,” he promised. He wanted to keep this going with Walden, but not at the present moment.

He could practically see the gears turning in Walden’s head and he was trying his best to be patient. He thought he was being clear, but he guessed he had to practically spell it out for him. “I don’t think that’s my choice.” he said, looking at Walden. Was it Walden’s? He didn’t know the answer to that either. “I think so,” he said slowly. He was still figuring it out, but it certainly felt like it. “I’m not quite sure what, but there’s something…” He looked at Walden again, then took his hand. “Do you get what I mean?”

Walden frowned. He doesn’t mind biding his time but he can be rather impatient when it comes to matters with his lovers. Especially with Perseus. But he forced himself to cut Percy some slack. This was, after all, miles better from what he had imagined would happen. “Tease,” he berated still, but it had no real heat.

“Leave then,” he said, knowing pretty well that he wouldn’t. He had gotten this far already and Sirius was still planning on paying for their drinks. “It’s how it is. It’s really not a big deal.” He thought about explaining it was a muggle bar, but based on his reaction, Sirius wanted to have a little fun with someone who probably would turn his nose up at muggles. It would be perfect for the man to have a great night, then realize he spent it in the presence of muggles.

“I don’t think so,” he said, as he walked up to the bar. He greeted the barkeep, a young man he had come to know from his visits. He ordered them two shots each, then turned to Walden. “New to you, mate.” He raised his shot. “You staying or do I have to drink these all myself?”

“Nice try, mate.” Walden almost rolled his eyes at the other’s provocation. It was half-hearted, sure, but it felt immature nonetheless. He just sighed before pocketing the piece of identification Sirius offered him earlier. “I’m just saying. No one has asked me if I’m bloody below eighteen in more than a decade. If that changes today, I’m gonna be bloody pissed.”

location: the inner eye participants: persephone pembroke & walden macnair ( @macwalden​ )

it was clear that the inner eye had suffered in her absence, but persephone wasn’t worried. all she needed was some fresh incense and a new display and everything would be back to normal. so pointing her wand towards her radio, she waited for it to come to life, the sounds of pop music filling the store as she got to work. first she switched the incense to something more appropriate for spring, before shifting her focus to the more difficult tasks.

she was in the midst of assembling a shelving unit, the various pieces scattered across the floor when she heard the door open. though, it took a few minutes for it to register in her mind. and even longer for her to realize she wasn’t open. shoving the instructions aside, she quickly scrambled to her feet- brushing dust off of her clothes as she turned towards the intruder. though were they an intruder if she forgot to lock the door?

but when she didn’t see the intruder right away, she was filled with a brief sense of panic. the absence of the door closing meant that they were still in the store. and the inner eye wasn’t that big, so she shouldn’t have any trouble. and sure enough she rounded a corner and came face to face with the man, a loud “aha!” escaping from her lips as she drew her wand. “i’m sorry, we’re actually closed right now,” she explained, slowly lowering her wand as she gestured towards the door, “we’ll be open tomorrow! you’re welcome to come back then!”

Walden has to piss. And he has to piss badly.

The two pints of beer he had earlier were finally making their way down to his kidney and finally to his bladder. And he was nowhere near any public loos. Apparating somewhere was not an option. Ever tried apparating with a full bladder? Yeah. It could lead to messes that Walden wanted to avoid.

Walden was looking for a pub or a bar. Maybe an inn. Merlin, he’ll even take a cafe. What he found instead was a store that he never once stepped a foot into. But hey, desperate times called for desperate measures. He slipped in with no greetings and immediately went straight for the back. Surely, they had a toilet somewhere, right?

Maybe it was supposed to be some sort of a jab but the question only made Brenton’s mouth twitch into a smile. “There’s some saying about that, aye? About not knowing you want something until you almost lose it.” His eyes bore into Walden’s, trying to read on his face where this conversation was going. They were so rarely this open with each other that it was unchartered territory.

“He never said anything about me sleeping with other people. Never asked me not to or anything like that. Fuck, if he had asked me not to, I’d’ve been more likely to do it.” He couldn’t be certain that was true given how strong his feelings had been growing by then but it was the sort of move Brenton might pull, as he’d never reacted brilliantly to being told what to do or not do. “It was my decision.” He didn’t add that he wished Walden would stop acting otherwise but he definitely thought it. Looking at Walden, though, he didn’t want to drag all of that up. It was history and the main reason that it was so was because when Rabastan had come back and apologised Brenton hadn’t been able to get Walden off his mind. “What was—” Brenton spluttered over a response. “What kind of question is that? Like I’m supposed to have ever known what you were to me. What am I to you?”

It was starting to feel like Walden’s frown was taking up permanent residence on his lips, juxtaposing Brenton’s smile. He didn’t know whether Brenton was talking about the possibility of him losing Rabastan at that moment or if he was referring to Walden losing Brenton. The possibility of both felt too complex for him to understand. Preparing for the worst if Brenton really was referring to the latter, he took  a deep breath before continuing. “I didn’t think I’d ever lose you if I’m honest.”

Maybe he should, Walden thought. It was the bitterness resurfacing. He knows that Brenton’s relationship with Rabastan was flawed. But Walden still wishes that Rabastan was a lot more awful to Brenton because a part of him maybe wanted to punish Brenton for being someone else’s. Because, if they were so obviously wrong, maybe Brenton might finally realize he was right for someone else. 

It was his decision. Somehow, that makes it a lot worse.

Aleia hadn’t wanted to get deep into what had happened. Hadn’t wanted to delve deep; bear her soul. But, a part of her wanted to tell him. He’s the only one that knew what she had gone through, on some level, which was strange, since she was so bloody angry with him about it at the same time. “Walden, come off it,” she said, laughing without humor. “You’ve not an idiot. You know why I’ve been disagreeable. I know we’re not good people. Maybe I deserved what I was given. But it still isn’t ideal being tortured, and having someone there to stop it when it goes too far and then they don’t. Alright? That’s what it is, if you’ve been curious about my being disagreeable. It’s hard, sometimes, to look at you knowing that.” 

Truthfully, she didn’t know what else to say now, and she held up a hand to stop him, because she already knew what he was going to say next; already knew he was going to say he wouldn’t apologize. He wasn’t the sort, and frankly if she were to get an apology, it wouldn’t feel real. Not from him. “I’m not asking you to apologize. And you’re right, it’s my problem. I’m here to let you know that I would like to be less disagreeable. I want to put the past behind me.”

A snort followed his words. “Walden you are antagonistic in nature,” she rolled her eyes. “We both are. It might make us a good team one day.” And Aleia left it at that, raising her glass to her lips with a small smile.

.

Aleia was right. Walden was no idiot and he fully understands why Aleia has been disagreeable. Or scratch that. He understands why Aleia thinks she has to be disagreeable. He just doesn’t believe that her circumstances should equate to the magnitude of her anger. Walden rolled her eyes again when she called it torture. Now, she’s just being a drama queen. “Well, I’m sorry I didn’t want to meddle in family affairs. I’m sorry that I didn’t think I should get a say what’s best for you or whatever. Is that what you wanted to hear?” Aleia was telling him that he didn’t need to apologize. Well too fucking late now. Besides, why else bring up the past if she didn’t want his apology anyway? 

Walden threw himself over the nearest couch. “Here’s the thing, Aleia. You’re a strong woman, right? You’re thriving in this piss bucket of a world that we live in, right? Has it never occurred to you that whatever your brother did helped in making you as strong as you are?” He downed his glass before he topped it up again almost to the brim. “Yes! Please!” he practically exclaimed. “It IS in the past. You and I are both alive. And your brother’s fucking dead. Dance on his grave if that makes you feel any better. I’m not gonna stop you.”

A painful snort escaped his nose. “If you’re suggesting that we team up just because we fight a lot and because Percy’s your best friend or whatever, you’re way over your head.” Eventually, he sighed. Aleia was right. He’s just as antagonistic if not more. “Whatever,” he muttered before raising his own glass.

“Yeah, I think I have,” Percy said, grateful that Walden seemed to calm down a bit. Maybe the kissing had done the trick. He had a feeling their conversation was far from over, but now maybe they could get somewhere. He tried to keep himself on task, not let get him so distracted as he did when he was in Walden’s presence. “Not a bad thing,” he said, kissing Walden quickly on the lips before pulling away. They needed to stay on track.

“No, no,” Percy corrected, trying to get Walden to where he was. Where he wanted to be. He really wanted to be in the bedroom with Walden, doing just what they were beginning to do here. But his mind turned to Brenton, to the way Walden and Brenton looked at each other. To the way both of them made Percy feel. “I see the way you look at him,” he said. “It’s not just sex, Walden. It’s… well, it’s the way you look at me too. It’s the way I must look at you. At him. It’s the way I want all of us to be.”

Even if his memory seemed to be failing him, they were still able to make it to the bar. “Don’t worry. I’m losing my buzz too, so I want to get another drink as soon as I can.”

Sirius was so used to going to muggle bars and adhering to their customs, that he forgot that other people may not be used to this. “Hey, mate, calm down,” he said, putting a hand out. “You need ID cards here. That’s just how it is. I know you’re old enough to drink don’t you worry.”

Brenton gave a non-committal hum. It definitely felt new if they were going to start talking about it, even if it was the oldest thing close to a relationship he had. Part of him felt like he wanted alcohol to get through this conversation but instead he sat down, jerking his head to indicate that Walden should sit as well. He wasn’t really sure where this was going. The only person he’d really seen Walden show any signs of wanting something more serious with was Percy but then why would he be here to talk about them? Unless this was his way of saying he wanted them to stop fucking around with each other once and for all. But… no, something wasn’t adding up and Brenton had never been very good at maths.

He was startled into barking out a laugh when Walden asked about Rabastan. “You really want to know?” he asked, highly amused by that. “You know we’d been sleeping together a while. Sneaking around because of his family, which helped make it a bit more interesting to begin with, and then, I don’t know. We talked more and became friends rather than just people who fuck but not like—” He paused. He couldn’t say that it wasn’t like how things were with him and Walden, not now that he had accepted there were more than friendly feelings involved at least from his side and while he still wasn’t sure where this conversation was going. “Not like it was between me and Marlowe,” he settled for, instead. “Where we get on but fucking is just another way to have fun together. It changed how we were together. And then the Quidditch final happened and he got hurt and I didn’t like seeing him like that.” And he felt guilty because it had been his fault but that wasn’t important. He snorted, once again reminded of why funny it was Walden was asking how they had settled things. “I stopped sleeping with other people because I just wanted to see him happy again and it didn’t feel worth it. And then you asked me to fuck you and Montague and I realised I preferred it when I was fucking someone I could call mine and who would call me theirs. So I told you I had a boyfriend and then went home and actually asked him to be my boyfriend.”

Brenton gestured towards the couch and Walden thought, What the hell before sitting down. Since he was initiating a possibly very uncomfortable conversation, the least he could do was make himself comfortable. All of sudden, he was regretting not coming to Brenton’s without alcohol. He could have drunk beforehand at least. 

Percy knew he didn’t say exactly the right words, but it was honestly a wonder he was talking at all. He wanted to fall into their familiar rhythm and kiss him and nothing else, but they needed to have this conversation. They needed to have this conversation long ago. He shook his head. “I needed to think about what I wanted… before I came to you. If I just came that night and didn’t stay away, I would have never gotten my head on right.” He reached out and gripped the front of Walden’s clothes so he could pull him closer. “I can never keep my hands off you when I’m around you,” he said in a lower voice than he had been speaking before. “I needed to think.”

He tensed as Brenton was mentioned. He knew deep down that Brenton needed to be part of this conversation too, but it was still hard to hear him brought up. He kissed Walden again. He wanted him to know. He wanted him to be able to feel it as Percy did. Even though, he knew Walden was right. They both wanted each other and they knew it. He kissed him longer this time, but not too much longer. He didn’t want them to get ahead of themselves. He felt his face get hot, like a schoolgirl admitting a crush to their best friend. “Actually, that’s the thing…” Percy wasn’t often at a loss for words and here he was struggling to speak. He had no idea how Walden was going to react to his confession. “I think I want him too. Not quite like I want you. I think we have too much history there. But, it feels like that.”

Walden bit the inside of his cheek to stop himself from saying the first thing that popped into his head. Here Percy was right before him, looking like he’s apologizing already, and yet, Walden’s first instinct is still to push back. “So have you figured it out? What you wanted from me?” he asked. Defiance was still present in his tone but he could feel its grip loosening. Being manhandled by Percy wasn’t helping. They were so close now that he could start to feel the scruff of Percy’s beard on his own chin. “Now, how is that a bad thing?” Walden tested the waters by dipping his hands into Percy’s lower back.

Noah contemplated whether or not that he should let Walden in on the reason he spoke with Isaac anyway. It only seemed fair, he supposed, and he did trust the other. “Let’s just say right before he disappeared, I paid him a visit. He was supposed to carry out a task for me, but apparently he chickened out.” Now Aila was still around, still running her mouth, he was sure. While it was irritating beyond explanation, Noah wasn’t sure he was ready to try again.

“You’re right, but who do we think might have done it? Guess it doesn’t matter, really, but… they’re owed a thank you, at the least.” Surely Noah was thankful for them. He couldn’t afford to get himself wrapped up in some sort of scandal right now. The conversation shift amused Noah, laughing as Walden made that brilliant observation. It was true, of course, though he wouldn’t have been the first to say it. “Oh, come off it. There’s history there, that’s all. So if you’re not off the market, who have you been entertaining as of late?”

.

Walden rolled his eyes as Noah tried to tell him something he’s heard before. He could hardly blame him. It’s not like they see each other on a constant basis. And whenever they do meet, alcohol tends to be within both of their grasps. They were probably sloshed when Noah first told him about his involvement with Isaac. And Walden was just as pissed when he told it to someone else. “Yeah, yeah,” he waved it off. “I knew that already. What I want to know is how things got complicated after he got arrested. Just as you said.”

He leaned back and gave him a minute to think. “I can think of a few.” There was Mia. She’s an Obliviator. With the Death Eater’s connections, she surely could find a way to be assigned to his case somehow. Or maybe it was someone who has ties to Azkaban or the DMLE. That upstart, young Crouch Jr., maybe? “I bet you can figure out if you ask around.” Walden tipped his glass over his open mouth until he saw its clear bottom. He then poured himself another drink before tilting his head and scrunching his face. “Ehhh... I wouldn’t say that I’m not not off the market. Another complicated matter. But it’s the usual.” He didn’t bother to elaborate whether Noah knew who his usual paramours were. “Minus present company, of course.”

If he had better options, Fenrir wouldn’t be so dependent on the Death Eaters. He believed in Voldemort, believed in his vision, but he also knew that that vision didn’t include werewolves sitting at the same table as the other wizards. There were many wizards in the organisation who would barely give Fenrir the time of day. He didn’t care much though. Fenrir knew he was just as powerful as those people, perhaps more. They didn’t know how he spread his power throughout the world, much like Voldemort wished to do.

MacNair was one of the worst offenders, given his job. Yet, Fenrir treated it as a challenge. Stare your enemy square in the face and smile at them. They both knew how to play that game. Fenrir grinned at Walden. A lot of people knew that part of his reputation at this point. “Course, but only for the right price.”

By now this dance has become familiar. Like a good partner, Walden switches his style depending on the other person. Sometimes it was all bark and no bite. Sometimes it was all bite and no bark. With Fenrir, there was neither. He didn’t bare his fangs nor did he extend his claws. But they were there. Oh, they were there. Someday, he’ll get a chance to show it all to the werewolf. But that wasn’t today.

“In the past, I might’ve,” Aleia said, raising a brow as she put one leg over the other. It was what he expected, and she couldn’t blame them. The two of them were never friends; were never quite enemies, either, but mostly because Walden couldn’t understand what had happened. He thought she was made stronger for what had happened. Still, her eyes flickered to his as he made the comment and her lips tightened. “Disagreeable?” she repeated, a short laugh following the word. “Yes, I suppose you could call freedom disagreeable. Alexander did nothing to help me, Walden. If anything, he kept me trapped. But, you know what happened.” 

Walden was partly her jailer and despite how much she wished she could look past that it burned. Someone was there, who could’ve stopped him, and he didn’t. Aleia closed her eyes ever so slightly, breathing in before, raising a brow at his words. “Why would we be talking about Antonin?” she asked, shaking her head. “Actually, don’t answer that, I don’t want to know.”

She breathed out a sigh. “Percy is my best friend, potentially my only friend, so if you two are… whatever you are –” It wasn’t meant as a jab, but truthfully, she didn’t know. “–Then I would like to… try.”

.

Walden looked away to stop himself from rolling his eyes. He was never in the position to believe that people could change and Aleia isn’t going to be an exception. If she was capable of threatening him then, that means she’s still fully capable of threatening him now. “Yes. Disagreeable. You were free to be disagreeable but yeah! Still disagreeable! What else am I supposed to call being sour all the time?” Especially if it involved him. Walden shook his head but he was found it too tiresome to argue. It’s so easy for Aleia to claim now since her life was a peach. But once shit hits the fan, she’ll know that Alexander did more to prepare her for the cruel world than anyone else.

Oh. So Antonin wasn’t the reason for her sudden appearance? Then what was it? Walden didn’t feel the need to ask. He was certain that Aleia’s going to make it known right away anyway. “Well, that’s totally fine by me.” From the sound of it, Antonin’s entanglements were just as complicated as Walden’s. Aleia might not have a clue about any of it.

“Oh.” Walden didn’t even think about Percy’s other friends that he’s grown attached to after their separation in Hogwarts. Percy never brought it up and Walden didn’t care enough to ask. Percy, for Walden, was enough to preoccupy him. “That still sounds like your problem to me.” Walden challenged, crossing his arms as he did so. “I’ve always been fine with you, believe it or not. You’re the one who’s always being antagonistic.”