Magiclwritings

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?”

Cesare didn't move but let Quin come to him, more curious if he'd actually touch him. If only his heart would stop the skipping it was starting to do. What he hadn't expected was for him to want the pot he'd brought. Max rarely ever smoked with him. Well, not as often as he used to. Neither of them did much of what they used to. What he still didn't know was what Quin now did, or really what he'd done before. But as he stood before him and contemplated, there wasn't much of an answer to give. His friend would understand.

"I didn't know you'd be up for it." His gaze drifted for just a moment towards the bar. Seeing Carter completely in the weeds as he would always call it, he felt even less bad. Cesare moved to tuck the baggie back into his pocket and patted it for good measure. "But I'm always up for an adventure." His gaze found Quin again and a small smile spread on his lips. "Want to now?" He was exactly itching to get them both high but the thought of alone time with him was too good to pass up. He wondered briefly what Max would think. If he'd be mad or upset he wasn't being invited or that it was his brother taking his place this time. He'll forgive him too. There was a lot of that tonight but Cesare was rarely ever selfish, for Quin he could and would be.

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?”

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.

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. 

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.

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. 

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.

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.

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.

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.”

"It's a lot easier than you'd think." Flynn told him plainly because that was the truth of it for him. He didn't have any family anymore and the property that was left to him was in a trust and no name was readily available for it. There wasn't much of a life before or after his family had been ripped apart. Even that was being generous. He loved his family for everything they tried to be. For his parents only knowing that they loved one another and that would have to be enough. But he knew that piss poor answer wasn't going to be enough judging by the puppy dog eyes still looking at him as if he were hanging on waiting for some grand finish.

Flynn sighed and found himself settling back onto the sofa with Dodger following in sync with his movements. "I trained in the navy out of high school. Made my contact there and ..." He felt the need to clam up coming over him and he squeezed the hem of his jeans to keep him from stopping. "Parents died because of a job I was on. I never told them what I was getting in to." He shrugged a bit, turning to look at him just then. "Now it doesn't seem like it would have mattered either way." He forced a half smile on his lips and patted the other's leg gently.

"And now here I am. Closer to home than I want to be and telling some poor soul that his life is not what he thought it was. " Flynn crossed his arms over his chest to keep himself from fidgeting at the contact with this man. "Sort of men in black like but without all the cool tech." He sighed, actually a little down about that. "They've made improvements but I definitely don't have a bow I can just call to appear or my trunk to roll out an armor full of trinkets and crystalized daggers." He tried to hide the smile coming but couldn't and instead winked for emphasis. "A guy can dream, right?" Flynn felt himself relaxing more and more into the run down sofa and enjoying the odd company.

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."

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. 

"You're an absolute terror to me and I highly doubt I'd ever do something like that to you." He told her, sticking his tongue out for emphasis. To which both girls laughed and Al settled in under Scorp's arm. It only dawned on him that it would also be his first time hearing this as well. Touché sis. "If you absolutely have to know it was ..." He sighed and covered his face. "When Scorpius nearly forced me to down shots for the first time." His hands came down to cup his chin and he glanced over his shoulder at the man next to him. There was a slight pinkness in his cheeks and he knew it was visible to everyone else too but, did it matter?

"Haven't really been kissed like that since." He quickly added, sliding his cup up to his lips and he downed a large gulp. Not that he needed any more encouragement but he truly didn't know where this game would go and if they were going in then it was in. "Not that I can recall anyway." His laugh a little forced but he reached for Rose and she squeezed his hand in turn. "Give me a bit more and I may just sing a few more secrets free."

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?”

"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.

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.”

"I stay where there's work." He answered swiftly. Not because he wanted to cut him off but so he understood that he wouldn't be a permanent fixture if he could help it. While this coven was larger than most he'd faced, he wasn't detoured by them. Especially after that little run in tonight. It excited him in a way he hadn't been in quite some time. His tongue touched on the back of teeth as he thought of how to bridge that from such a short answer but it seemed this one was not one to rest on ... well, anything really. It wasn't that far out of the realm of possibilities that he'd ask that. In fact, Flynn would have been more impressed if he managed to stay away from it.

He cleared his throat, adjusting to feeling his new companion even closer than he'd remembered him being. "The network of people we've put together is rather useful." He wouldn't dare disclose how many there were or where for that matter. He was willing to give a little but not to someone that looked like he might faint at the mention of another vamp anywhere near his vicinity. "I've always been more to myself anyway." Flynn gave a quick shrug and he moved to place the first aid kit off of his lap before he settled back onto the sofa with this man.

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?”

Grady found himself peering back over his shoulder through the encampment and towards the direction they'd come from. He could have just broken into a full on sprint and maybe made it back. His teeth dug into his lower lip as he really thought about it. But then he turned back and looked at the King again. The smile came naturally then and Grady had his answer. And while it was entirely selfish. That people back home would now be starting to look for him. And when they find out there isn't even a cell phone tower to ping his phone from, well, he wondered if he'd feel his parents' hearts break after a weak of not seeing him.

"We might actually be more help to one another than I first realized." He admitted because he had a feeling the amount of things he was about to become very familiar with would be damn near out of his comprehension. Grady set to scoot himself a bit closer to the King just then. The warmth of the fire rolled over the pair of them and he found himself still lingering on the man's face. But he was more aware of what was around them. Without all that noise back home he could actually hear the men in their tents carrying on. Most of them were in various stages of drunk or not. Some in card games but what he found most as he listened was that none of them were truly ill content. Given their circumstances he could hardly say he'd blame them for being out of sorts but they weren't. Their mood was rather cheerful and that spoke volumes to Grady.

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.”

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.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Whatever you do… 

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

Don’t get caught.

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.

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. 

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.

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.” 

"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.

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!”

"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.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"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.