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marivyn
impulsively got the marius MRâŠ..i still dont know if that decision was good or not
I mean
at least my pair is not separatedđ«¶đŒ
TOT doodles ft island suspense lukevyn đđ
Throwback to when I made my tot ship edits

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'til death do us part... or 'til i kill you first
Things take a sharp turn when Marius and Vyn discover each other's secret identities. Filing a divorce is on the table, but Vyn takes matters into his own handsâafter all, he'd rather end the marriage here than in court.
A/N: Finally, FINALLY done with this fic that has long been rotting in my drafts! I've been wanting to write a Mr. and Mrs. Smith AU for my favorite gay ship but lacked the time to actually finish it (but here we are!). I wrote this in 2022 but only concluded it today, AMIDST my many, many university backlogs <3 Anyway, I know some stuff here won't make sense but this is a self-indulgent fic so... yeah.
wc: 13.8k words.
==
Six years in.
Six years of a wonderful marriage. Six years of black tea and chocolate drink during early mornings. Six years of intoxicating kisses, sweet and zealous; six years of what the youngest von Hagen called the best fuck heâd ever get in his lifetime.
You see, when you marry the love of your life and spend wild, beautiful years with them, you start to think you are building your relationshipâs mighty foundationâthat sooner or later, the two of you would be able to finally lower those invisible walls which had always separated you, because admit it or not, there is no marriage built without deep, dark secrets.
But six years in and Marius von Hagen finds himself holding tightly onto his gunâa pretty sleek silencer he so cherished, a gift from his brotherâhis back pressed hard against the wall just beside the stairs, waiting.
âHahâshit. Shit,â he muttered under his breath, his chest heavy, almost suffocating. Marius pressed one hand against his heart, feeling its erratic pace and, at this very moment, he was all but trying to calm his rapid breathing.
But then there was a quiet creak on the wooden stairs.
Mariusâ eyes screwed shut. Fuck fuck fuckâ
Marius threw himself to the side, hiding further beneath the wall, just in timeâjust in time before a series of raining bullets holed through the wooden wall and the staircase banister, which was soon followed by another round of rapid firing. Marius shook his head as he waited for it to stop.
With one arm protecting his head, Marius leaned slightly against the safer side of the house. Deep down he cursed and cursed the sheer agony of having to prop himself like that against the wall, right after he had dived into the floor like it was some massive pool of water. âGoddamn,â he cursed quietly, and however could he not? His once neatly painted Victorian walls that probably cost some other personâs soul were now ripped into shreds, the wood falling off, their deadly splinters scattered around. There were holes all over, both small and wide, and Marius took a little peek.
There he is.
Vyn Richter, Stellisâ most esteemed psychiatrist: well-mannered, elegant, so fucking pretty. Marius was in awe even when the doctor, who still wore his pearl, white coat, carried two massive rifles in both of his hands. Fucking assault rifles. Just where the fuck did you keep those in our fucking house, Vyn?
A sly smirk curved the doctorâs lips. Vyn caught a glimpse of his husband peeking through the small holes and asked, a little too seductively for Mariusâ taste, âDarling, you are still alive?â
Dammit!
Vyn held back a scowl when he heard nothing. Marius used to surprise Vyn whenever he came home from work, so it was not impossible the young CEO had already switched hiding places. And so Vyn, as silently as he could, made his way down the stairsâ
âStill am, baby.â
Vyn dived down the stairs instinctively, hissing out small, foreign curses as he landedâcrashedâon the floor. He helped himself up with animalistic speed and grabbed his weapons, dashing towards the room opposite the wall where Marius continued to fire his silencer gun.
The doctor clutched his side and winced. Two minutes in and he already got himself a bruise.
âStupid brat,â he muttered sharply as he reloaded his rifle. âWhatever crossed my mind? I should have killed him that fucking night.â
==
Two nights ago.
Vynâin his white Mercedesâtook a sharp turn round the bend of his English garden, leading out of the mansion gates. He was running, no, driving away from Marius. Why? Nothing much, really. Just that after six years of marriage Marius found out that aside from being a psychiatrist, his dear husband actually worked as an assassin. Learned that Vyn was a killer from another agency, which unfortunately for Marius was PAXâs worst rival with⊠well, dirty work.
But that wasnât the worst part. Marius was an experienced killer, too, a secret even the best psychiatrist in the country must have somehow missed.
SoâŠÂ shit.
It was supposed to be a romantic dinner date. Vyn came home earlier than usual (he had to call off his assassination schedule that night) so he could cook his husbandâs favorite dinner. The ever-so-loving Vyn Richter even lit candles on the table, did some last-minute flower arrangements, all so theyâd have a good time (He even had half a mind to light candles and scatter rose petals across their bedroom, for a change). It had been a while since the last time heâd eaten a proper meal with Marius, anyway.
But there was something amiss, and Vyn was upset. Upset with the fact that he couldnât figure out what was wrong. Or what could possibly go wrong.
Although he was quite certain it involved his husband. And involved he was indeed because Marius was all but suspicious that whole evening, asking this and that, inquiries Vyn himself often utilized whenever he questioned a target or a client. And he wouldnât have been a renowned psychiatrist if his husbandâs dubious actions went unnoticed. Marius. I did not know he would be this daft.
Until the bottle of wine Marius was holding suddenly slipped from his grasp, and Vynâwho was seated, his back turned away, his attention wholly fixated on anything other than Marius and his wineâcaught the bottle swiftly with one hand.
It was then he realized heâd made a grave mistake, because if anything his husbandâs grip was always firm, and not in this life would Marius von Hagen let a million-stellin wine slip from his hands.
Marius let it slip on purpose.
And now Vyn drove his Mercedes the way a lunatic would their car, ramming on the trash bins and fences and even some of the patches of roses from his beloved garden, all to escape from his husband. Because apparently, his dirty secretâs out, and Marius is out to get him (perhaps).
The car screeched as he took a sharp turn, finally out from their mansion. Was he a free man, now? Not exactlyâMarius von Hagen suddenly appeared in the middle of the road, running. Vyn muttered under his breath. Goddammit. He took the shortcut. I forgot about the shortcutâ
A bang sounded, and the next thing Vyn knew, there was a crack on the windshield. The car halted abruptly.
Vyn scrutinized the crack. A bullet.
âDidâŠâ he musedâhissed, ratherâas his eyes trailed to where Marius was knelt on the ground, slowly helping himself up. âDid this bastard just try to shoot me?â
Marius almost flinched when Vyn, just a meter or two from him, slammed his hands on the car horn repeatedly. If it wasnât his pretty little husband Marius wouldâve just shot the car until the tires go off and the driver dead; but then again it was Vyn inside that car, andâ
And the windshield⊠has a crack. And I have a gun. And IâŠ
Marius swallowed. And he mustâve accidentally pulled the trigger when he hopped out of the bushes from the sidewalk and tripped. And now Vyn thinks he tried to shoot him.
âBaby, accident.â Marius now stood in front of the car, and the sight of his husbandâwho looked angry as hellâcould be seen clearly from his line of vision. He hoisted both arms, the way a cornered, guilty criminal would, and repeated his words gently, âBaby, accident. Accident.â
Marius gestured to his gun. âI tripped. Accident,â he shouted. Marius didnât really give a damn anymore whether or not the neighbors would hear him. âBaby, accidentâno, stop!â
Marius inhaled sharply as he heard the engine revâand it revved loud, as if a warning, more than enough to tell Marius if he didnât step out of the way at that very moment Vyn would drag him to death by way of a hit and run.
And he did not hesitate.
âNo, stop! Wait!â Marius waved his arms frantically, almost throwing away his gun just so he could show Vyn he wouldnât dare hurt him. However it was his mistake that he pondered it at all, because Vyn Richter was the pettiest man alive, petty enough to actually hit the gas and hurl the vehicle towards Marius.
Oh, shit. Is this my end?
The car steered forward, its speed almost inescapable (for anyone in Mariusâ situation). Marius gathered all his weight and lunged at the car, and Vyn then piloted the steering wheel in a rapid pace, left and right, in an attempt to haul his husbandâprobably ex-husband soonâout of the car, but to no avail. âGet off my fucking car!â he yelled irritably. âMarius von Hagen!â
Marius even managed to smirk as he held onto the side of the car (for dear life). âStop the carââ he shouted back, his face almost hitting the windshield. âVilhelm von Hagen!â
âFuck you.â
âWhen?â
âSaturday, if I have not killed you yet by then.â
âSweet.â Marius took advantage of Vyn getting carried away by their banterâVyn could only hiss out in frustration as Marius broke the passenger seat window with the handle of his gun. It didnât take long before he was halfway inside the vehicle, and Vyn was fumbling with his seatbelt.
But Marius was a second too late. The moment heâd gotten inside entirely, Vyn had already thrown himself out of the vehicle, and the Mercedes, along with Marius, was heading straight to the dark woods.
âFuck you,â Vyn spat, still lying on the asphalt, catching his breath. He had wounds and scratches all over his skinâso much for all his skin routinesâbut that did not matter at the time. He fished out his phone from his pocket and dialed a number.
âGood evening,â he greeted rather blandly. âYes. Please fetch me, and bring something sweet. I need my sugar levels to spiral.â
==
Present times.
And so they are here, trying to shoot one anotherâs head. Marius had initially come to gather his hidden weapons, only to find them gone. Vyn mustâve found out. The psychiatrist, on the other hand, returned home and got his guns ready. Heck, Marius even considered the great possibility of his husband setting up traps within the house.
Now we can tell who loves who more.
Yeah. That would be me, Marius would say. I love this sick fuck more than he loves me.
He peeked at the stairs. Marius caught Vyn claiming the opposite wall as his barricade, swore to god heard his muse wince at what couldâve been new bruises. He chewed on his lower lip as he crouched and stalked along the hallway with confident precisionâhe moved the way shadows would devour the night, utterly soundless as he coursed towards their dining area, which was also a connecting room to their massive kitchen.
To Vynâs kitchen, his mind noted, almost like an instinct. His beloved had always been the one to cook all their meals, bake mouthwatering desserts and mix their cocktails and most times theyâd end up hot that Vyn would find himself bent over the counter with Marius railing him from behind. Sometimes atop that long table, where Marius would feast on his husband the way he would his favorite meal; in return, Vyn knelt on the carpet under the table and sucked Mariusâ hard cock until he moaned and screamed his name and squirted his cum on Vynâs crystalline smooth face.
Marius was never in the kitchen, that sacred place. Sacred to his husband, at least, but when he did go there, it was always to admire Vyn while he prepped their meals.
He let out a bitter chuckle as he entered the dimmed space. Good old days.
Marius scanned the room, one he was most familiar with, before he proceeded to check under the table and chairs, ran his hands along the wall, removed the exquisitely-framed portraits hanging on them as a precaution. He knew Vyn couldnât have been here for long; he wouldnât have ample enough time to set up his baits within the house, but just in case.
Heâd learned well not to underestimate Vyn. Vyn Richter, of all people.
Keeping his steady stance, Marius trod towards the high archway that led to the kitchen hall. He moved with a spyâs practiced grace and quiet, walking about the area as he quickly drafted a plan in his head. It was safer here, he thought, for almost little to no lights were switched on, and none of them would dare, since the lights could only be opened with two claps or a snap. Even without Mariusâ careful movements, Vyn wonât be able to locate him that quickly. Especially since their house was a goddamn mansion.
No, screw that. A goddamn castle. If Vyn had not declined his husbandâs initial offer with regard to housing, their residence would have looked like Buckingham Palace, except it was in Stellis.
Well great. How nice would it be to reminisce while your husbandâs lurking in the same house, trying to kill you? Marius blew a sigh through his nose, frustrated. Couldnât this be resolved with yet another delftware imported from Franceâ
Marius went cold. âFuck.â
He went cold because somehow, heâd forgotten that he didnât really own this kitchen. That even though heâd been here a lot of times to fuck his husband on that table and over that counter, he wasnât there enough to fully know and memorize each tile, each wall, each delftware that perched on display. Because somehow, Marius had focused on the possible threats that heâd missed the most unsuspecting yet lethal ones: Vynâs decorative collection of teacups and teapots and plates.
And perhaps the odds were not in his favor tonight, because Marius accidentally bumped into one, and the teapotâeven though he had caught it with his hand at firstâproceeded to take its fall and break itself into hundreds of tiny shards. Marius stilled, his blood thrumming in alarm.
At first, there was silence. The eerie kind.
And then rained a series of bullets from the dining room entrance.
âFuck fuck fuckââ
Marius dived into floor, clutching his silencer. He crawled swiftly under the long table until he reached the archway to the kitchen. He stood on his feet and snatched his other pistol from its belt holster, scanning the kitchenâa fucking enormous kitchenâfor efficient shields, weapons, or if the heavens somehow favored him again, a possible way out. An escape from his deranged husband.
Heâs too beautiful for someone demented, though.
He heard footsteps. Slow and steady, its familiar, elegant cadence enough a warning for Marius to keep his guard, his guns hoisted and at the ready. In one stride, he took refuge beside the fridge, the opposite side of it facing the entrance.
And then there was a distant, honeyed voice. âYou dare break my delftware.â
âYou fired because of a fucking teapot?â Marius sneered, but cackled all the same. âYouâre crazy.â
âYour fault for marrying me.â
âA horrible decision, really.â
Vyn pulled the trigger and fired, the bullet merely grazing past the fridge. A warning. âI gathered. Seeing how you are out almost every other night, only to a foolish spouse will that go unnoticed,â Vyn uttered, his voice laced with venomâbitterness. âTell me, darling. How many ladies have you fucked while you were gone?â
Marius resisted the urge to step out of his hiding spot and confront his husband head-on. âFucking stop it, Vyn. Are you serious? This again?â he complained, the grip around his silencer tightening in his simmering anger. âI never cheated on you, godammit. I told youâI was out for business. How many times do I have to drill that into your head?â
âAh, yes. Business. And what exactly is your business, Marius?â
Marius chuckled. âI could ask you the same, baby,â he said in his smoothest, sweetest voice, then strode out from his refuge, aiming his silencer at Vyn. In those few, shared seconds of conversation heâd noted where his husband stood, where he was facing, the appliances which surrounded themâVyn wonât be able to duck anywhere, and could not possibly sprint too fast to shield himself from Mariusâ attack.
But then againâhe shouldnât have underestimated.
Because when heâd stepped out, Vyn was not there.
He was already behind him.
âShitââ
He did the most possible, most horrible thing he could think of: as he swiveled round to Vynâs direction, Marius hooked his fingers under the fridgeâs recessed handle, pulled it open, then slammed its massive steal door against Vyn.
âScheisse.â The fridge door rammed against him face-firstâVynâs nose throbbed with a nasty pain, and he sensed hot liquid leaking from it, tasted the coppery tang of blood when it drifted further into his mouth. âFucking. Swine.â
He knew the fridge door would be a serviceable shield, knew the bullets heâd fire would protect Marius no matter what and doing so would only be a disadvantage. However Vyn blasted back that instinct, that knowledge, and proceeded to rain yet another series of bullets towards Marius (or the fridge, actually), all because of sheer aggravation. How dare he slam that door into his faceâwas he not his muse, his darling? Was he not this ethereal man Marius had always drawn and sketched and painted on his canvases for he wished to preserve his beauty?
Goddammitâthe curse looped inside Vynâs head, his nose flaring with rage. His nose fucking hurt.
And Vyn screamed along his firing, both weapons aimed toward the fridge. The kitchen was dimmed, with no lights on and so all he could see were the blazing yellows and oranges and reds, could only hear the all-too-familiar bangs and booms as the shots blasted through the metal.
He stopped attacking. Vyn wept the blood from his face with the sleeve of his once immaculate, white coat, wincing as he did. His nose stung so much and it rendered him so very, very furious. âMarius von Hagen,â he said. Hissed.
A low chuckle. âVilhelm von Hagen. Or would your surname be back to Richter now?â
And there was silence, utter silence, before Vynâs life flashed before his eyes.
The psychiatrist could only slide back as the fridgeâwhich was a whole lot bigger than him in all aspects possible, completely towering over himâstarted slanting from above and down to crush him. It was too swift that he could only clumsily stumble back, almost slipping on the tiles and making a fool out of himself.
Marius heard Vyn curse in a vague, foreign languageâGerman, no, Svartian, probablyâas he scurried to save himself and dodge his husbandâs pretty little trick. Actually, screw that, Marius thought. Pushing this goddamn fridge might very well be his disadvantage: one, it was too heavy it took a lot of effort and energy, and twoâthe kitchen was a spacious room and he threw his only barricade away.
No matter. He will just have to remedy that, in whatever way he can.
Like taking advantage of his disoriented, recuperating rose by means of taking their electric stove and throwing it in Vynâs direction.
Heâd turned away before that stove hit his husband.
No. He didnât want to see that.
Didnât want to see his husband hurt.
He released a sharp breath and looked skyward, then blinked his eyes repeatedly, well-aware of the stinging tears threatening to flow. He ran to the exit all the same, his only goal to escapeâhe didnât wish a violent shoot-out with his love, inside their home, no less, but he needed to return the act lest he got killed.
All thisâthe thought of killing Vyn would kill Marius just the same, anyway.
Heh. He didnât seem to hesitate shooting me, was what roved in his mind as he made his quick escape. God. That hurt. That fucking hurts.
And he was now well on his way out, finally, with only a step before the archway when Marius peered over his shoulderâthen regretted it shortly after.
A kitchen knife had grazed past his ear, the tip of its blade hitting the wall with a dull, slicing thud.
Marius stood there for a while, utterly shocked. Vyn hurled the blade too skillfully that blood trickled down his earâonly a slight brush with the knife, truly, and there was only a minor stingâand Marius recalled it again and again, the way that knife went past him so swiftly, almost like a soft winterâs breeze.
Maybe he deserved it. Heâd broken not only Vynâs delftware but his nose, too.
âJust to remind you, my darling.â Vyn stood steady far across him, his gun hanging by his side, his other arm still held forth after throwing the knife like a sports dart. He was bleeding, his nose and his arm, yet his poise was much like a princeâs, still, as if he hadnât partaken in this chaos of an indoor shoot-out.
Oh and despite himself, Marius swooned when Vyn had addressed him darling.
âThat you destroyed my fridge.â He leveled his gun, his aim at Mariusâ direction. âAnd inside that fridge were all the pastries I had worked so hard for this goddamn weekâmore particularly that matcha cake.â
Ah, Marius thought, almost nodding unconsciously. Iâm thoroughly fucked, then.
The psychiatrist fired another time, only once, but close enough to shoot off Mariusâ ear.
Thoroughly, completely, perfectly fucked.
If that bullet blasted a few inches down Marius was sure heâd only have one serviceable ear left. Fuck it. Vynâs aim was as good as his so thank the heavens the odds somehow favored him tonight because if they didnât, his head would be pounding with a static burn at this very moment for he got his ear blown off to oblivion.
Marius sprinted. Not out, because the hallway was narrow and with how accurate Vynâs aim is, he was certain heâd get shot at some point. So instead he darted to the side at lightspeed. âGoddammit, Vyn!â he shouted as Vyn fired constantly, following his every stride; thank goodness there were no kitchen lights and Vyn couldnât see clearly even with those ugly glasses. âYouâre really going to blow off my ear? How am I to hear your needy moans then?â
âYou will not hear them again.â
âNot of pleasure,â said Marius as he slid behind the mid counter, hiding away from Vyn. He tugged open the small cabinet and swiftly made a slice on the gas hose before he slithered away like a madman and out to the archway. It would be nasty with that leaking gas and Vynâs shotgun.
Wow, thank god we werenât all into electric shit.
When Vyn fired, the kitchen exploded in flames.
Vyn threw himself back, and he crashed into the wooden floor, breaking his glasses in the process. Every part of him ached, and his head pounded; his vision was obscured without his glasses, the narrow hallway a distant horizon he was not sure heâd reach because he couldnât move, couldnât breatheâ
His thighs burned, a hot, searing pain pulsating within his loins, and it was only then that he realized he was on fire. Like it was his second nature the doctor halted thrashing and crawled to the nearest open space, that area near the archway, and rolled himself across, exhausting the flames on his person.
He wouldnât dare glance at his burns. He couldnât stomach them for sure.
Not because they were gruesome, no, but because he cared greatly for his vanity, and now his efforts had been all in vain. So much for face and body value.
He snatched his gun, then, and hastened out of the burning kitchen and into the dining area.
Vyn didnât mind the burn, the throbbing, the pain that wished to devour him. Not when his adrenaline was spiraling and begging to be put to fucking use. His instinctâan assassinâs or a husbandâs, he couldnât discernâled him out and around the lobby, up the stairs, to that one, distinctive chamber his husband treasured most.
The Atelier.
The memories rushed in with each step, every soundless stride. Heâd designed that room with Marius, had decorated it day and night with him. Had baked cookies and delivered them there, so Marius would have something to eat as he worked on his new opuses; had stayed by his side as he recounted stories with his paint.
Had taken off his silken robe as he perched on the chaise, naked, looking so ethereal as Marius painted him, brought his beauty to canvas.
The reward? Marius had fucked him silly all through the night, on that very same couch.
Vyn took deep breaths. He acknowledged those memories, accepted them. Then locked them all away.
He hoisted his gun, and tiptoed close, closer. No signs told him Marius was inside, but Vyn steered forward, trusting his gut as it churned at his intuitionâhe is here. I do not know why, but I know he is here.
He ticked that box with a check.
As he entered the room a silencer shot, hitting just behind him. Marius stood by the opened windows, his weapon in hand; a thick cable wrapped around the atelierâs metal handle and it fell outside, down to Vynâs precious garden. He was escaping.
âHeh.â Vyn aimed his gun at Marius, the smirk on his face menacing. âPlanning for escape?â
Marius threw him an annoyed glance. âYou put the house on a fucking lockdown.â
Vyn shrugged his shoulders. âYou were able to open that window,â he said. âWhatever happened to the alarms?â
âSwitched them off first.â
âAnd the window?â No one was supposed to open any part of the house when it is on lockdown.
âI know shit on this house that you donât know of.â
âAh. Well, that does not matter.â Vyn trod forward, careful. The weapons were still aimed at one another as he neared a small, circular table where Mariusâ rarest pigments sat in glass bell jars. âWhat matters is⊠oh, look. These are your pigments.â
âVyn.â
âSuch rare pigments,â mused Vyn, eyeing the expensive, imported, rare set of paints atop the table.
Marius took a cautionary step forward. His hand reached towards his husband, the gesture as if attempting to halt whatever deranged thing Vyn framed out to do. âVynââ
âImported from Italy, yes?â The older man trailed, his finger brushing against the glass. âAh. And this one was from our Grand TourâFrance, if I remember correctly. From Louvre.â
âDonât shoot it.â Mariusâ voice shook. âDonât fucking shoot it.â
Vyn stopped. He chuckledâthen looked up at Marius. âAll right,â he said with an innocent smile, âI wonât.â
Then struck the tableâs legs so it tumbled down, onto the floor, the special paints now mere, vibrant stains that tarnished the wooden tiles.
Vyn sneered at Marius. âScrew you.â
And proceeded to fire not to his husband, but everything inside the atelier: the canvases, both empty and brimming with colors, the vases and the chairs and stools, the portraits on the wall, the unfinished sketches and all the works in progressâthe Seti Falls among other brilliant landscapes of their travels in Skadi, in and around Stellis, all the way to Europe.
Marius seethed, and one may even argue he was about to breathe out flames. âYou fucking fiendââ
Vyn halted his advances when his aim pointed to an unfinished portrait of him.
Gods, he looked beautiful in it. Like the image of a prince, one of which a hopeful maiden would see only in the fairytales she reads, wondering if sheâd ever snag a man as handsome as him. His lips were curved into a half-smile, all so lucious, and Vyn felt that familiar, rancid guilt tug at himâonly a little, he wanted to deny itâas he wondered the many hours Marius had worked to capture him as beautifully as he could. Not that it was a hard task, for Vyn had always been a most spectacular muse, but stillâŠ
He lowered his gun and spared that portrait from his rageâsaved himself from his own, unfettered violence.
But soon enough, Dr. Richter would realize that only portrait Vyn had been granted salvation.
Vyn nonchalantly aimed at his husband another time, did not hesitate, even a sliver, as he pulled the trigger toward Marius. But Marius dodged and rolled to his back, deftly until he tumbled against the wall under the window, and with a terrifyingly calm expression poised himself to kneel on the tiles.
Vyn reloaded his gun. âWhat are you doing, kneeling there?â he seethed. âHave you given up, darling?â
âNo,â said Marius, a chuckle rumbling down his body. His amethyst eyes had darkened, and Vyn tensed, feeling gooseflesh all over his skin as Marius took something out of his personâa hand grenade.
âYou know what,â the young von Hagen began, his voice low and cold, âI shouldnât have tended your garden during the days you werenât here.â
âYou are to stop this instant.â
âWhat do you say? Fuck off and say adiĂłs to your precious little garden.â It only took a split of a second as Marius pulled the pin with his mouth, and tossed it behind him, the grenade hurtling over his husbandâs precious sanctuary of roses and lilies.
Only a split second before Vyn Richterâs garden exploded into a thousand, splendid fireworks.
And if it werenât for his unmitigated, passionate fury thrumming with each breath, each step, and every thunder of his heart transcending over the harrowing, golden flames burning in the dead of night, of which singed the beloved flowers heâd tended to for years, Vyn wouldâve fallen to his knees onto the wooden tiles, and cried his heart out in heavy grief.
But Vyn stood there, not moving an inch, as he watched the scorching fire. The flares flickered in his eyes, round and round the deepest trenches of those golden hues, until all he could see and feel wasâŠ
Well, nothing. As if unbothered.
However his mind, his brilliant mind toiled clearlyâtoo vivid, the thoughts smooth-sailing in his ocean of schemes.
âDieser verdammte Marius,â he mutteredâthat goddamn Mariusâas he strode near the doorway, opened an emergency cabinet, and pulled the heavy, metal handle, activating the manorâs fire sprinklers.
Wet chemicals erupted from the ceilings, all over the house. Vyn navigated the halls and the rooms with precision, checking the bedroom, the lounge, the bar, in a search for a certain von Hagen.
He hoisted his gun as he trod to each chamber, each corridor. Vyn went down the stairs and proceeded, with much caution, to the main living roomâ
When a click sounded behind him.
âLetâs stop this now, Vyn,â Marius said quietly as he drew closer, his silencer only a meter or two away from his husbandâs back.
âUnlock the house, and we can separate in peaceââ
Vyn swung around, pivoting on his heel, and knocked Mariusâ weapon out of his grasp.
Marius stumbled to the side, but maintained his balance almost as instantly. âWhat theââ
âYou are naive to think that after all this, I would let you out.â Now it was his time to brandish his gun, leveling the weapon slowly to Marius, who now had both hands raised in surrender. He was on the farthest corner of the room, trapped; his only escape was the very path Vyn stood on, getting in his way out, deliberately so. âWell, well. What do we have here?â
âYour loving husband.â
Vynâs brow raised, and his features scrunched into disdain. âI would not say thatââ
He was cut off by Marius pouncing onto him with all his weight, Mariusâ hands wrapped around his own, restricting him and the gun. And before Vyn could even try to get away Marius sent him to the groundâMarius had forcefully slid his leg against Vynâs, and when his husband lost his balance, the two of them plunged into the floor.
At the impact, Vynâs grip loosened, and Marius kicked the gun away from them as he helped himself up.
Oh, zounds. Why did I kick it away? I shouldâve taken itâ
A flower vase came hurtling toward him, and Marius shielded his face from the glass, letting it break into tiny shards as it fell to the floor. And his jaw mightâve been broken, too, for Vyn had suddenly appeared in front of him, and threw Marius the best jaw-breaking punch he had ever received.
âFuckââ
It was painful, to be sure, but he had no time for such. He caught Vyn rushing to the doorway.
Whatâs he doing?
Mariusâ face scrunched and he winced, the pain in his jaw utterly excruciating.
Oh.
Oh.
Fuck.
Heâs going for the gun.
âNo way in hell.â
Marius the nearest object he could findâa mini coffee tableâand hurled it in Vynâs direction.
He stood on his feet and sprinted to the doorway. The table had hit Vynâs torso, the impact heavy on his waist, and he dropped to the floor, groaning in pain.
But before Marius could reach for the gun himself, Vyn held him by the leg.
He landed face-forward. His arms, thank goodness, saved him from rendering his handsome face wretched. Marius rolled onto his back, only for Vyn to lunge at him.
Vyn first threw a punch to his jaw yet again, but Marius caught his wrists. With a mighty force Marius was able to toss Vyn to the sideâhe was the stronger one, after allâand Vyn ended up with his back against the couch.
Vyn was still recuperating when Marius came to wrap his hands around Vynâs neck, restricting his breathing. His hands went instinctively around Mariusâ, punching and pulling and desperate to get away. At last Vyn gathered enough strength to move away from the chaise and to the side, bringing Marius with him; Marius who, despite his strength, admitted to struggling with Vynâs futile attempts to escape.
But the next thing Marius knew, he was throwing his husband across the room.
Vyn flew directly to the massive grandfatherâs clock, the glass shattering and raining over him.
Blood now stained the doctorâs face, his body. But at that very minute he wouldnât feel any wound, any injury. Just the unfaltering will to fight to death with his husband.
He felt betrayed.
He was scared. He was so scared he would lose himâto a woman, to PAX, to this. Add the five consecutive nights heâd prepared dinner for them and Marius never came home.
Heâd rather end the marriage here than in court.
Marius dashed towards him, ready to pounce. Vyn caught sight of the expensive wine bottles on the table beside him.
And so he snatched two of the wine bottles and smashed them on either side of Mariusâ head. The bottles crashed, and Marius bellowed in pain. Crimson leaked in his skin, his clothesâwas it the wine? His blood? Vyn swallowed as took in the sight of his husband, hands on his head, moaning in deep pain; he looked away immediately and strode out from Mariusâ reach.
Marius chuckled. âOf course youâll go for the gun.â
âDo you not think it the easiest way out?â Vyn merely said, his voice higher, obviously vexed. Yet the way he spat those words was honeyed, still. âI shoot you, I win.â
âIs that what this is all about?â
âYes.â
âAh.â Marius staggered, but pressed onward. âThen youâre not getting that gun.â
In quick strides Marius threw himself at Vyn, but the older man rolled himself easily over the couch. Marius pushed the chaise to the side with one swift move, and only the oval glass-lined coffee table separated them.
Like that tableâs gonna do shit.
And it all began with footwork. In his fighting stance, Marius assessed his husband, the two of them circling around the table slowly, vigilantly. Waiting for the other to hint at their weakness, to give away their hidden cardsâneither knew the otherâs tricks, having only found out their secret careers this evening.
But goddammit, Marius cursed inwardly as he observed his muse with that perfect sparring form, however his bearing elegant, still. The lock of his shoulders, the way his forearms were bent to his elbows, his knees curved just right; that determined face, his brimming confidenceâgoddammit, goddammit, goddammit.
Perfect.
Heâs perfect.
I love him.
âWell fuck me. You always made me carry your heavy stuff, but now you look like youâre ready to carry me to my grave.â
Vyn smirkedâthen pushed the table with his foot.
The force was too strong that Marius knew he wouldnât be able to stop it on his own, and that heâd only hurt whatever part of him that met the tableâs edge. The table slid forward, launching straight at Marius, and all he could do was leap on top of the table.
It was small, that table. Marius lost his balance and fell face-forward to the marble tiles.
âFuck it,â he groaned, his elbows stinging. âI fucking hate youââ
Vyn gripped his shoulder and swung him around, his back now on the floor. âHello, my love,â he purred as he pinned both Mariusâ hands atop his head, then straddled him. âDo you like this?â
Marius smirked. âYou on top? Hell yeah.â
Vynâs fist went flying to his face.
âFUCKââ Marius groaned, his nose stinging. He could almost taste the metallic tang of blood. âI canât believe you ordered me to carry your shit around when you can punch this hard.â
âYou betrayed me.â Vyn landed another punch. âYou are a liar! You lied to me!â
âLook whoâs fucking talking!â
âGo to hell.â
With his weakening grip on Marius, the young von Hagen was able to snatch his arms and finally turn the goddamn tables. He wrapped his legs around Vynâs torso and flung themselves to the side.
Vyn gasped. Marius now sat on top of him, towering over him. His grip on Vynâs wrists was too tight they couldâve been red with the mark of his fingers, or a nasty purple because of bruisingâgod, they couldâve been a pale blue for that grip might as well halt the blood from coursing through.
âNow, now, sweetheart.â Marius pinned his loverâs wrists on the floor. He noted the slightly frantic tussling, VynâsâŠÂ sexy labored breathing. âI think I like this better,â he whispered. âMe on top of you.â
And Vyn could only gasp as Marius grappled his throat. Not to kill himâto weaken him, somehow. To make him lose consciousness. And then heâll decide from there.
âHckââ Vynâs choking filled his ears and, even when he wanted to, he couldnât look away. âM-Mariusââ
Stop it. Youâre hurting him.
His grip did not weaken.
âHckâŠÂ P-Pleaseââ
Donât say it. Donât.
Say it. Vyn hurt you. Youâre just returning the favor.
I canât...
âLook at you. I love choking you like this,â Marius spat, his eyes dark and wicked. Iâm going to hell for thisâIâm sure of it. âIf only this were a different circumstance.â
He caught Vynâs arm flailing to his sides, and Marius wondered why heâd suddenly stopped grasping the hands that throttled himâuntil Vyn seized something and smashed it to his head, sending him backward.
A lampshade this time. From yet another small desk drawer just beside them.
Well, Marius thought. I shouldâve seen that coming.
Vyn was, however, still frail from Mariusâ attempt to strangle him. His breathing was strained, his face breaking out in cold sweat.
And hot tears rolled down his pale, bloodied cheeks.
However his adrenaline pumped again, and again, and even when his head pounded a fire burned from within, and he tried to go on all fours, a futile attempt to stand.
Marius now stood, albeit unsteadily due to the impact of the lampshade on his temple. âCome on, honey,â he managed to say despite himself, imitating a sparring stance, âcome to daddy.â
Vyn inhaled a sharp breath.
He turned on his back, then, and used all his remaining strength to kick his husbandâs groin.
âFucking fiendââ Marius moaned in agony as he fell to his knees.
âHeh,â Vyn chuckled darkly. âWhoâs your daddy now?â
âAhahaha,â Marius managed a laugh. For some reason, it did not sound even the least sarcastic. In fact, it sounded so⊠genuine. âThatâd still be me, Vyn,â he breathed, âstill me.â
Then he rolled to the side, Vyn the other way around.
When they got up to their feet, nimble as men who were yet to be injured and beaten up, Vyn and Marius found themselves in a rather precarious situation:
Their guns on each otherâs heads.
Blood coated their faces. Some trickled down, some already dried from earlierâs violence, the crimson-brown marking their skin as if pinpointing just where they had tried to inflict pain on one another. Desperate breaths filled the thrashed room, heaving in attempts to ease the thumping hearts, seemingly beating for something other than the desire to killâperhaps beating for love, still.
The room had now quieted. No more crashing and shattering and heavy thuds brought about by relentless kicking and punching and hurling. The once catastrophic space was now but a peaceful one, at least in terms of sound and every other external force of nature.
âLet us end this here.â
Vynâs tone never wavered. It was still as honeyed, elegant. But neither had the strength to actually ask, is that what you really want?
âBaby.â
âStop,â he said, or rather breathed, as if Vyn had drained all capacity to speak, and Marius almost didnât hear it, but he did. He always did. âDonât you dare call me that.â
âOkay.â Marius nodded. His gaze remained fixated on Vyn, who so determinedly held out his gun, although Marius wondered why his finger was a little far off from the trigger. He took that as a good signâsomething to hold onto. âSo,â he began, his silencer still aimed towards his husband, âwhat now?â
I do not know, he had the urge to say. But he wouldnât say it. Not in this life.
âAre we to stay like this the entire night, Vyn?â
âNo, of course not.â
âShould I worry now?â
âAs you should.â
âYouâre going to kill me?â
Vynâs eyes snapped to him, meeting those eyes of dark amethyst, and Vyn realized he hadnât been looking at Marius this whole time, only to a random part of his face so it would seem like he was strong enough to take this head-on. But when their eyes met he felt his breath catch, and gods did Vyn want to whip everything back in time just so this didnât happen. Just so he would have him back.
It is still him, he told himself. This youthful man, so willingly returning his gaze even though Vyn bore some brutal promise, always the man who could see him, who chooses to see through him and accepts what sought refuge beneath the facadeâstill Marius.
My Marius.
Vyn gasped, more loudly than heâd intended, when the silencer dropped to the floor.
His line of sight panned up to Marius. âWhat are you doing?â he hissed with unmistakable, rising fury. âPick it up.â
Marius raised his arms, slowly, in surrender. âI donât want to.â
âPick up the gun.â
âI canât.â
He inhaled sharply that the air could cut his throat, which was painfully drying, his heartbeat starting to race another time as he attempted to persuade him, âPick it up, Marius! Pick the fucking gunââ
âNo,â Marius said, shaking his head in regret.
âFIGHT. FAIR. THIS IS NOT FAIR.â
He swallowed the lump in his throat. âIâm sorry.â
âAre you?â
âBelieve me.â
He was pleading, and Vyn knew that. Not pleading for his life, but pleading his love.
Until Vyn asked, âWhy did you do it?â
His eyes lit up. It didnât matter whether Vyn would accept his answer, he didnât even care if he would believe him, but he was so damn happy Vyn was at least interested to know. And he deserved the truthâhe ought to grant his husband that.
âIâmâŠâ He breathed in, his line of sight entirely on the floor, trying to find the perfect explanation. âI donât know. I guess I just loveââ
âKilling other people?â
He looked up at Vyn. âBloodlustâthatâs it, yeah?â
Vyn scoffed. âBloodlust. Are you kidding me?â
âI had killed someone for Giann. Accidentally,â he began, âan act of self-defense, to save myself and him. He was drugged and unconscious and we were alone, and we were kids.
âAnd I felt like a different person, you know? Stabbing that man to death. Torturing him until he begged that I end his suffering. Instead I got a blunt knifeâŠâ He trailed, his voice now dripping with that familiar longing, that familiar tone of satisfaction Vyn so knew about him, âstarted carving the family insignia deep into his skin while I listened to his pleas, his screaming, and watched the way his blood leaked from his cutsâŠ
âIt was, to say the least, a feast to my senses.â Marius chuckled, his voice dark, almost evil. As if Vynâs kind, youthful husband had gone, had turned into someone unspeakable, someone he didnât know. Or perhaps, a Marius he has yet to meet. âThat was when I realized I let another me live within. Heâs someone who loved drawing blood, someone who craved for violence. All of this, VynâI do it all for fun. I couldnât get it out of my system. So, yeah.â
âYou could have told me,â whispered Vyn. Marius wanted to believe he saw those golden irises soften, even only for a passing beat. âYou could have trusted me.â
âI trust you, baby. But no,â he said resolutely, âI love you, so damn much, and I wanted to be perfect for you.â
Marius took a step forward. Vynâs grasp tightened around the gun.
But Marius pressed forth. Arms falling heavy on either side he took yet another step, his mouth curving on a slight, sad smile as he walked closer, and closer, dangerously closer to the beautiful man who carried such a hideous promise.
âI want to be the perfect manâŠâ Marius halted, just a few breaths away from the gun aimed directly at him. He crouched a little, leaned forwardâ
Vyn gasped. His whole body tremored, a sudden chill running all over his skin.
Marius wrapped his long fingers around the gunâs barrel, tugging it towards himself, pressing his chest against the hot muzzle. âThe perfect husband for you.â
He observed as Vyn continued to nibble on his lower lip, biting it hard that it reddened with the threat of blood, and Mariusâ chest tightened as he saw those golden hues now glossy with emerging tears. Vynâs breathing had gone from composed to ragged, and soon the hand which held the gun started to shake.
âVyn,â his husband called softly, âI love you, okay?â
He was surprised to feel hot tears filling his eyes, a stray of it rolling past his bloodied cheek. âMariusâŠâ
âVyn?â
âIâŠâ he paused, grasping for words, suddenly losing all the vigor to fight. His heart shattered at this, at everythingâat himself for being such a petty husband who never truly gave Marius the chance to prove himself, all because of some missed dinners. Who never gave Marius the benefit of the doubt even when Vyn saw in his eyes a flicker of hope.
He was so lost swimming in his ocean of thoughts that he never noticed Marius, who started easing away the gun ever so calmly, and Vynâexhausted and drained out of his witsâallowed him his weapon to make its descent, down until he himself decided to drop it to the floor.
And he seemed to be in a daze indeed as Marius pressing closer to him went unnoticed, until Vyn realized, only after almost a minute, that Marius had gotten their bodies closer, almost skin to skinâŠ
Marius knew he was quite awake nowâfrom all his little reveriesâand while he expected Vyn to land another blow or finish him once and for all, he was surprised when his husbandâs gaze flitted from his lips before it settled up to his eyes, his pale, slender hands sliding to his chest as he whispered, âI love you too, Marius.â
Then Vyn was pushed onto the couch.
The doctor gasped, too surprised that it was a pitch higher than usual, and for a moment he was afraid that Marius had gotten the upper hand with his trick and now he ought to strangle him, but his gut believed otherwise, and his gut turned out to be right because Marius leaned down to kiss himârough and wet, hungry as his tongue lapped in his mouth, a quiet sentiment of how Marius would rather kiss and touch and fuck him instead of sending blazing bullets all over their house.
âMmâoh, MariusâŠâ he whined as Marius pressed against him, almost straddling him, his hands relishing the softness of Vynâs face and disregarding the feel of dried blood there, and now making their way towards the back of Vynâs head, fingers brushing, tangling, pulling on those silver locks.
He felt his pants tighten at the sound of Vynâs moans, and he grabbed a fistful of his hair and dragged his head back, suddenly feeling the lust of tasting Vynâs exposed neck. Marius leaned down, his mouth pressed against his neck, trailing wet, open-mouthed kisses along soft skin, tasting blood and hot sweat. He bit lightly at the hollow of his shoulderâ
âAh!â Vyn cried in perhaps both pleasure and pain, his fingers clutching desperately on Mariusâ sleevesâsleeves that were rolled all the way up near his elbows and it was so sexy Vyn almost wanted to wave the white flag, in the middle of their shoot-out, just so he could fuck him. So he could kiss him, kneel in front of him, fulfilling his husbandly duty of sucking his cock. âMariusâŠâ
âWe literally just started,â Marius said as he looked up to meet Vynâs eyes, a smirk curling at the edge of his lips.
âFuck you.â
âDarling, Iâm about to.â
âWell why donât you get on with it? Or would you rather waste myâoh, fuckâMarius!â
Vyn could only screw his eyes shut, and Marius could only let out a satisfied groan as he ground his hips against Vynâs, biting his lip as he felt that hard erection, the proof of his husbandâs growing need and oh, how heâd love to satisfy him. âWhat was that?â
âWill you ever stop talkingââ
Marius shut him up with another kiss on the mouth. Vyn tasted sweet, as usual, however Marius made out the metallic flavor of blood, but itâs not like he would mind. Itâs his husbandâs blood, anyway, and heâd be most willing to take a sip of it, drink it, chug it until it sank down his throat the way he would his chocolate drink.
Ah, but Marius loved it more when it was Vyn who did that with his cum.
As he kissed Vyn he continued moving, grinding his hips until all he could hear were the melodies of Vynâs whines and sighs, and gods was he so distracted Marius failed to notice Vyn already taking the matter into his own hands unbuttoning Mariusâ shirt, and with fervent speed at that.
He suppressed a laugh as he bowed his head, watching in awe as Vyn fumbled with the buttons of his black shirt, breathing so hard and sensually as if he could wait no longer. In fact it felt like Vyn would be very much happy to just tear his shirt apartânot that his husband would mind, either.
âYou were so determined to kill me earlier,â Marius said as Vyn unbuttoned the very last one, âbut now youâre so hot and horny for me. I told you I did like your mood swingsâhmph!â
He was cut off by Vynâs mouth claiming his ownâmuch to his delightâand soon he found himself hooking his arms under Vynâs spine and the back of his legs, his feet then making way to their bedroom on the second floor. Vyn wrapped his arms around Mariusâ neck instinctively, even pulling him closer as if he needed more, plenty more of him, and Marius loved the way his husband craved for his kisses that it must have given him some omniscient power to navigate the halls and the stairs in the dark so precisely.
In a minute a heavy thud reverberated, echoing across the massive bedroom as Marius opened the doorâor rather twisted the knob then kicked the doorâand went towards the bed with much haste. Heâd licked, bitten, lapped at Vynâs mouth one last time before he dropped him to the king-sized bed, covered in midnight-lacquered sheets, and proceeded to take off his shirtâ
âWait,â Vyn protested, but before his husband could respond he hooked his two fingers round the belt loop of Mariusâ pants, and tugged him closer. It was so damn hot Mariusâ cock twitched.
Suddenly he wanted to grab a fistful of Vynâs hair and make him suck his dick. Heâd fuck Vynâs mouth so well with his hard cock the man would be a beautiful, crying mess the moment he swallowed his cum.
âIâŠâ Vyn turned a little red. âI want to suck you.â
Marius swallowed as he hurried to comply, feeling a certain heat within him intensify. Vyn was already kneeling on the bed, making quick work unbuckling Mariusâ belt and letting his cock spring free and fuck, Mariusâ cock was heavy and warm and slick with precum, and Vyn felt his own twitch against the fabric of his pants.
He did not waste time. Vyn wrapped his long, slender fingers around his husbandâs cock, feeling Marius throb against his palm, his cold fingers. He had sucked Marius dry since god knows when, but suddenly he felt like this was all new, that he was nervous and shy again, and it was as if he was taken back to their first night as two married men. That first night after Vyn said Yes, I do, I shall marry you, and Marius beamed and Vyn thought his husband could rival the sun. Funny what some husband quarrel and house violence could do to youâ
âJust so you know, Vyn.â A low, impatient voice pulled him away from his thoughts. âIâm this close to shoving your face down my cock, if you donât mind.â
Vyn bit his lip as he saw yet again that massive, hard cock staring right in front of him, waiting to be devoured. God, his husbandâs cock was so beautiful, thick and velvety soft that his breath caught. And realizing once again that someone was getting impatient, Vyn leaned in and licked gently under the crown of Mariusâ dick.
âFuck.â Mariusâ head dipped back, feeling his cock twitch against Vynâs tongue. âPleaseââ
He rasped as Vyn complied, letting his mouth close around the head of his husbandâs rock-hard cockâ
âFffuck,â Marius breathed, panting as Vyn made swirling motions with his tongue as he slid halfway down his length, âFuck, Vyn!â
His eyes screwed shut, his hands clutching onto Vynâs silver locks, and moaned out a broken cry as Vyn sucked his whole length, deep throating him, his wet, warm lips touching his Mariusâ hot skin. âFuck, Jesus.â
Vyn moaned around his cock, and as Marius felt it vibrate around him he dipped his head back again, seeing the goddamn stars. Vynâs moaning didnât stop even as he sucked his husbandâs dick, Mariusâ cock moving in and out of his mouth. Marius tasted so good. Every time Vyn sucked him it seemed he tasted even better and better, as if there were new flavours to his taste of clean sweat, of salty skin, and god even his precum seemed heavenly to Vynâs tongue, melting like chocolate. His eyes fluttered shut as he sucked. God, he would suck this manâs cock forever.
Until Marius tugged Vynâs head back, âFuck, wait.â He panted heavily, and as he saw Vyn lick his lipsâstill glistening wet from his own saliva and Mariusâ precumâMarius wanted to plug that pretty little mouth with his dick again. But he held himself together and said, âWait. Iâm⊠I was about toâŠâ
âIâd swallow everything, Marius.â
âFuck, stop it. Stop it or youâll have to choke on my dick the rest of the evening.â
âWhat is the matter?â
Mariusâ cheeks tinged a bit pink. He looked much like a teenager who wanted to try sex with his crush. âI want to⊠Iââ
âToo good?â Vyn smirked.
âFuck you.â A smile tugged at the edge of his lips. Marius caressed Vynâs hair, as softly as he could. âI want to come inside you.â
Vyn swallowed, his mind once again drawn to their little memories of fucking every night until both their legs had given in, and Marius thought the same. God, he couldnât stop staring at his husband. Vyn looked ethereal bathed in the bedroomâs soft orange glowâŠ
However this time it was Marius who was strippedâso quicklyâfrom his reveries as he was pulled, thrown to the bed, with Vyn taking off his shirt, leaving his necktie around. His shirt was hauled off to the floor in a second, and now Vyn looked like some fallen angel as he straddled Marius, untying the silken tie with deft fingers, his wet lips parted in aweâŠ
âWhat are you gonna do with that, huh?â Mariusâ hand slipped round his husbandâs waist. Weâve been married for years but goddammit, your waist is so fucking small.
âYouâre gonna use that on me?â he added, whispering against the shell of Vynâs ear, making his husband shudder. God, he loved it when Vyn did that. Loved it when his ministrations, even the smallest ones, had a great effect on him. âAnd look at you, donât you think youâre a bit overdressed for the occasion?â
âIâahââ
His cock twitched again that it almost hurt, as if begging to be hilted inside Vynâs ass. Vyn had the sexy habit of whining and making those kinds of sounds whenever heâs surprised or caught unawares, like that very moment when Marius stripped him off his vest with one go, the buttons clinking on the floor in unison. Marius didnât waste a second and gripped the sleeves of his doctorâs coat, tugging it off him.
Until Vyn caught his wrists and said, âLet me.â
The muse started taking off his vestâslowly, tantalizingly. He knew all too well this act was a feast for his husbandâs eyes, for his cock. The slutty bottom that he was, Vyn removed his clothing alongside his heavy, sexy breathing, his mouth slightly ajar, with some stray, silver strands falling over his eyes.
The vest went abandoned. Thrown to the floor just like all else. The shirt followed, Vyn making sure the sounds he made were heard, acknowledgedâoh acknowledged indeed, what with his husbandâs erection poking against his legâand he couldnât help but suppress a smile knowing Marius was having a hard time keeping his hands to himself.
When everything was unbuttoned, Vyn let the right sleeve slide down his arm, revealing some skin on his chest, his collarbone, his shoulder. Marius had seen it all, but still he thought he looked so ethereal, and so hot all the same that he was torn between treating him rightâsweetly, gentlyâand fucking him so rough and so hard he wonât be able to walk the next day.
By instinct, Marius looked away. He bit his lip as he did, setting his sights away as he was suddenly so overwhelmed, so doubtfulâdo I even deserve this, he asked himself, realizing that it had been his fault why the shoot-out occurred in the first place: he missed a lot of dinners with Vyn. He was always out for his business of killing other people. He hurt him in all ways possible, especially tonight.
But then, âMarius.â
His gaze returned to Vyn. âDarling?â
âDo not look away.â Vynâs hands, soft and cold, reached to caress his face. âJust look at me,â he said, his voice like that of an angelâs, âthis is all yoursâall of me. I am yours.â
Marius made sure that shirt was off his husband immediately.
Heâd kissed him again, a mix of love and dominance, of lust and longing. Arms tight around Vynâs waist he pulled his muse close to him, skin to skin, but he wanted them to be closer. He wanted to be inside himâto own him, body and soul.
He loved Vyn. Marius wouldnât know who he is without him.
âI love you,â he grunted as Vyn ground against his erection, âI love you.â His hands wandered up his spine and down his ass, squeezing it, eliciting a moan from Vyn. âI love you.â
But it wasnât long until Marius took his black, silken tie, staring intently, lustfully at Vyn before he hoisted it in between them, âMay I?â
Vyn raised his wrists in answer. âAnd my tie?â
âFor your eyes,â Marius said, his eyes darkening. âI was thinking your mouth, but I love hearing your noises.
âI love hearing your moans. Your whines. I love it when you scream my name.â
Marius licked his lips, and his chest swelled with triumph as he saw Vyn shiver again, turned on by a few words. Vyn gasped in surprise as Marius finished tying his wrists, pulling on the knot a bit harshly than heâd intended.
âNow,â Marius said as he worked on Vynâs red tie, âyou love the dark, donât you darling?â
A whine escaped his lips as he was pushed to the bed. He couldnât even recall how Marius looped and that red, silken tie around his eyes. All he knew now was heâs on the bed, on his back, his hands tied in front of him. âAh, MariusâŠâ
âWhat was that?â
Vyn could only nibble on his lower lip. âPleaseâŠÂ oh!â
He moaned as he felt his husbandâs mouth, warm and wet, close around his nipple. His toes curled at the sensation, especially at how Marius knew just how to kiss, lick, and suck his nipple and make him cry and moan so loud. His body moved frantically, the pleasure almost maddening now that his vision was obscured, and not knowing what Marius was gonna do next was killing him.
However soon he felt large hands grip his thighs, hoisting them, and Vyn most willingly submitted by wrapping his legs around Mariusâ hips. He was now on top of him, could feel his hot, ragged breaths against his skin.
âYouâre so hot,â Marius whispered as he kissed Vynâs beauty mark, that one on his collarbone, âI just love fucking you so much,â he said, before unbuttoning Vynâs pants and sliding his hand down under, wrapping his fingers around Vynâs length.
âOh! Marius, ahââ
âYes, just like thatâŠâ
âPlease!â
âYou like that? Damn, youâre actually making this harder for me⊠let me justâŠâ
Marius stopped, his hurrying hands fumbling on Vynâs pants, in much haste to get inside him. Oh how badly he wanted to fuck his husband when he all but looked like a willing captive, writhing underneath himâhe let his fingers travel down under, lingering on Vynâs back, then trailing further south, massaging his arse, lifting Vyn a little in the process.
Marius did not waste any more time and took the head of his own cock, moving his hard-on closer until it rubbed softly, carefully over Vynâs hole. He rasped as he did a little push inside. âShit.â
âM-MariusâŠâ
Marius took that as his signal to push further, letting out a small grunt as he moved another inch, then another, and he took satisfaction witnessing Vynâs mouth parting as he whined, silver brows furrowed in pleasure. âOhh, Mariusââ
Marius gripped on his husbandâs waist and hilted his entire cock inside him.
Vyn whined again, so loud Marius wondered if his voice reached the outside, even with their windows closed. Vyn cried as Marius moved inside him, his thick, warm cock fitting perfectly in his ass, hilting deeper and deeper with each thrust that Vyn couldnât stop muttering curses and Marius, Marius didnât have any words for itâjust sounds, low and needy. Just grunts, and moans, and whines and cries.
Marius thrust again. Harder, deeperâ
âOhh, just like that!â
âYeah?â
âMmâohh, f-faster pleaseâ!â
Marius nodded frantically, and he thought how much Vyn had an effect on him that, despite Vyn being the one tied up and writhing underneath him, Marius was actually the one in his mercy.
Good. Deservedly so. Vyn Richter was his Saving Grace and heâd worship the man forever.
âAhâfuck! MariusâŠ!â moaned the older man, biting his lip as he welcomed the familiar painâand pleasureâdown his nether part. It was only then Marius realized he had been too excited to claim Vyn that the thought of using a lubricant or even covering his dick with saliva never crossed his mind.
âFuck, Vyn. Does it hurt?â he asked, but never stopped moving, pulling and pushing back in.
âN-no! It feels good. You feel goodâŠâ he moaned as he shook his head, âIâd rather youâah!âfucked me hard.â
And it was enough to make Marius pin his husbandâs hands atop his head, cursing as he thrust in, and out, so hard and so deep tears started rolling down Vynâs pale cheeks. âFaster?â
âY-yes!â
Marius gripped hard around Vynâs wrists, railing the man as hard as he could, making Vyn cry with each powerful thrust. The sounds of wet, forceful squelching echoed across the room and, partnered with Vyn Richterâs needy moans, Marius thought damn, I shouldâve brought a recorder.
Well, itâs not like he couldnât do that soon. Pretty sure Vyn would be most willing to film all their blasphemous activities together. âIâm close.â
âM-me tooâŠâ Vyn bit his lip, his back arching in ecstasy brought about by their bodies, skin to skin. Marius pounded faster. It felt like fire, really, and he felt his stomach surging and ebbing and surging again and again with pleasure. They moved in sync now, Vynâs hips thrusting to match his husbandâs pace, and he knew he was close when he felt that electric sensation zipping through his veins, his loins, his cock. âM-MariusâŠ!â
His balls drew up tight as Marius slammed into him, again and again. Vyn could only let out a broken cry as he sensed Mariusâ hand grasping his cock, jerking it as fast and as hard, perfectly matched with the way Marius pumped his dick inside him in a relentless rhythm.
Vyn came. Loud, majestic, his hot cum spurting on Mariusâ stomach and making a beautiful mess there, much like the way he was one. His head was fucking spinning and he thanked Marius for it. And he kept on crying out even as Marius came, his fresh seed filling Vyn up like he was always meant to.
He kept on going. Grinding in him so deep, so sensual, thrusting again and again and letting his very hard cock feel inside Vyn, helping both of them through the very last of their orgasms. Again, then again. One last time, until Vyn croaked weakly, and Marius grunted as he fell on the empty space on the bed, beside his husband.
Despite the exhaustion, he shifted to his side. Took the blindfold off his husband. Vynâs eyes fluttered open immediately, albeit blearily, the fringe of his long, silver lashes casting shadows on his cheeks. He gave Marius a weak smile. âThat wasâŠâ
Marius let out a soft laugh, feeling the last bits of his energy dripping away. âI want to fuck you again.â He relaxed, but felt himself stiffen at the sight of his husband: ethereal. Beautiful with his cheeks flushed and mouth parted, his neck and chest gleaming in sweat. Vyn Richter, once again, in the afterglow of mindblowing sex.
âI love you,â he whispered, though he was not sure if Vyn heard. His eyes were already closed, and he looked like he was fast asleep. Marius smiled and snuggled close to him, with Vynâs soft breathing lulling him to slumber.
==
Sometime around his dream, if he ever truly dreamed, he heard a silken voice say, âI love you, too.â Felt a gentle kiss on his forehead once, twice. Then another, âI will love you forever.â
When he awoke in the middle of the night, the quiet surrounding them, he saw Vyn was sound asleep. He rested his head against the hollow of Vynâs neck, inhaling his sweet scent, and wrapped his arms around him. âVyn,â he whispered, âIâll love you forever, too,â before he kissed him on the cheek.
Somehow, Marius knew he hadnât dreamt it.
==
Vyn awoke three hours earlier than usual, his eyes bleary, almost blind as he stared at the digital clock which blinked 5:58 AM. He wouldnât be up this early, but his phone rang so alarmingly in the distanceâatop that couch beside their bed where Marius fucked him the whole nightâand with a ringtone he wouldnât dare not pick up, lest he received yet another lecture. An hour or two of it, even if that lecture came from his, well⊠not his superior, because he was the superior.
He sighedâit was his junior calling. âGood morning, my rose.â
âDONâT âMY ROSEâ ME, RICHTER-VON HAGEN!â came his beloved juniorâs rather sweet response, and Vyn instinctively pulled his phone away from his ear, unless he wanted his hearing damaged forever. âWHAT THE HECK HAPPENED TO YOU?â
âLanguage, beloved.â
âVYN!â Ah, there it was. He knew she was suppressing those sobs. It was conspicuous she had been pulling back tears the moment Vyn answered the call, the moment sheâd heard his voice and confirmed he was alive, although not much well. âI was so, so worried about you⊠I thought⊠I thought you wereââ she paused to take a light sniff, âdead. The squad is on their way. What happened?â
âI⊠I cannot tell you right now. I am sorry, dear,â he said, his gaze drifting to his husband who was still snoring in his sleep, and gods did Vyn thought Marius looked ethereal even during his most vulnerable moments. He fucked me so well last nightâŠ
âAnd please, Rosa,â he said, âtell the squad to halt their mission. I am all rightâharmed, but I am faring well. And so is my husband.â
âOh, my god. Mr. von Hagen was a witness?â
âSort of. I shall tell you all about it when we meet.â
âWhich is when, exactly?â
âTomorrow,â he replied, his fingers running across the bare skin of his chest, wincing at the hurt from where Marius bit him. âYou are in charge for now. Make certain the HQ is still up and about,â he said, âyou are my second-in-command, so do what you must in my stead. Meet me tomorrow, same place.â
âOh, uhâtomorrow, you said?â
âYes. Is something the matter, dear?â
âEr, wellâŠâ she trailed, and Vynâs brow arched in curiosity. He tried to rewind their past conversations, see if sheâd mentioned anything she ought to accomplish tomorrow. There was nothing in particular, and Vyn was about to tell her twice until she cleared her throat and answered, âI actually⊠have a date tomorrow, Vyn.â
Ah. Understandable.
However, âI have taught you of the risks which comes along with our line of work. I hope you do keep your emotions out of your jobââ
âWhat a hypocrite,â Marius muttered beside him. Was this idiot fake-sleeping the whole time?
âNever you mind. I am not against your relationships. I will meet you in two days, then,â Vyn continuedânot without glaring at his husband first and foremost in the morningâand added, âbut of course, what is this lucky ladâs name? Age, hair colourââ
âLuke Pearce, thirty years old. Coral eyes, chestnut blonde, and very cute.â
âMake certain you put up his records in the office. That asideâplease enjoy your date, Rosa.â
Vyn pressed on the end button. He was thinking whether to check up on his husband or do a background check on Luke Pearce first, but he heard another phone callâthis time from Mariusâ phoneâand even though he never truly meant to listen⊠well, however could he not?
âHey, Luke?â
Vynâs ears perked at the sound of his name. Luke.
âYeah, sure. Wait, you canât tomorrow?â Marius asked through the phone, his voice getting inaudible as he yawned, âoh, man. Congrats on bagging your first dateâoh, wait a minute. Is this girl Rosa youâre going out with?â
âWho is that?â Vyn mouthed to him with those piercing golden eyes. My junior, his husband mouthed back, shrugging his shoulders. Itâs not like I can hide it anymore from you.
Well, Luke was not his junior since Luke was older by a few years, but Marius had been an assassin earlier than him. And, well⊠he was Lukeâs boss.
Vyn didnât need to do a background check. Heâd have to pester Marius for it. Just great, what are the odds that their juniors were going on a date?
The first thing Marius did when he ended the phone call was tackle Vyn into a hug, which the older man reciprocated much lovingly (despite his grumpy morning face). He was still scowling, but it was a contrast to the warmth which he gave Marius in return, and the eagerness emanating from him as he pressed closer against Mariusâ exposed chest. It wasnât very soon that Vyn had started nuzzling his face against his husbandâs cheeks, like a cat trying to be sweet.
âVyn.â
âI thought you addressed me as darling or love or baby, but I suppose weââ
âReally, Vyn? This early in the morning?â Marius laughed as he cuddled him more. âYou know, I was just gonna ask you somethingâŠâ
âYou want to fuck me again?â
And there it was, that familiar pout and puppy eyes, all too powerful even for Vyn that he knew immediately he wouldnât be able to deny him. Well, itâs not like heâd decline some more good fucking. âDonât you want me to?â Marius said, his pout much guilt-enducing now.
But not until Vyn pushed the sheets down until it reached his thighs, revealing his now bulging erection, his sudden craving for Marius. âWhatever are you waiting for?â
âFuck. You sure know how toââ
Another phone call.
Vyn sighed and took the phone. His eyes widened, only for a fraction of a second, upon seeing the caller ID.
âPlease tell me youâll ignore that.â
âUnfortunately for usââ he slid a finger down the green button, âwe cannot decline this one.
âGood morning, Captain Morgan.â
âThis is Artem,â came that deep, familiar baritone, and Vyn felt himself shiver from the way Artem sounded in the mornings. The senior lawyer had always been a morning person, but there were times too wherein he was too lazy to get up for workâcan you actually believe that?âso Vyn had to do all sorts of things to get him moving. His voice during those moments hadnât changed at all: deep and husky, almost seductive.
âArtem,â he repeated, and the name seemed to capture Mariusâ attention, too. âGood morning. Why are you calling this early in the morning? And why are you using Captain Morganâs phone?â
There was a sigh at the other end of the line. âDarius forgot to bring his phone,â he answered. âI called to let you know heâs coming, along with his squad. Too many noise complaints last night. Theyâre going to investigate.â
âJust so you know, Wingâmy house is an estate. I am quite certain no one was bound to hear usâŠâ Oh, shit. Marius threw a grenade in my garden.
He shot Marius a glare before he returned, âTell Captain Morgan to go home.â
âI kept telling him that,â he replied, quite vexed now. âIt was supposed to be our day off, Vyn. Our only day off, and you just had to ruin it.â
âIt is not my fault you cannot persuade your boyfriend to stay in bed with you.â
âAre weââ
âHello there, Artem.â Marius had snagged the phone away from Vyn, having felt that impending argument that would probably last hoursâhe wouldnât admit that he was only jealous because Artem was Vynâs only ex-boyfriend, almost husbandâand had taken matters into his own hands. âWeâll meet Captain Morgan when he gets here, all right? Iâll tell him to go home, so letâs have peace, yeah? Bye!â
âI could have handled that, Marius,â Vyn spat, but not before Marius hopped out of bed and went to browse through his cabinet. He got himself a clean set of sleepwear in pastel green, Vynâs most adored colour, and threw the shirt in Vynâs direction. âGive me the pants as well.â
âNo,â said Marius, already in the process of wearing it, âyou take the shirt, I take the pants. Itâs too long for you, anyway.â
Vyn crossed his legs, folded his arms. âWhat are you planning?â
âWeâre gonna give âem a show.â
==
When Vyn opened the front door to their house, he was met with the rather hot welcome of flashing lights, towering video cameras, fully-dressed reporters and papparazzis in all black. He could make out the faint sirens coming from the police cars parked outside the estate, and he only hoped no one was able to round the bend leading to his recently-bombed garden.
âVyn Richter, is it true there was a shoot-out here last night?â
âVyn, did you have a quarrel with Mr. von Hagen?â
âVyn, the people are curiousâis divorce on the table yet?â
âAre you and Mr. von Hagen are going to be available in the marriage market again?â
âVyn, rumors say that you and Mr. von Hagen are involved in matters of Mafia and secret services. Is that true?â
âVyn, are you pregnant?â
His eyed widened. âI beg your pardon?â
âVYN!â
If he really ought to be true to his role of being aâŠÂ babygirl who would pretend to be lightheaded or unwell after coming across crazy reporters with no sense of privacy, he wouldâve done it after a few more moments or so. However Vyn truly was made unwell by said blinding lights and mad interviewers, and by instinct he pressed a palm against his temple and leaned against the doorframe, suddenly dizzy at the commotion. âPleaseâŠâ
âGive him space, everyone. Move, move!â
Oh, dear. Thank goodness for Captain Morgan, he thought as Darius practically shoved the reporters out of the way as he reached for Vyn. A strong hand gripped him by the arm, enough to steady his slowly unstable body. âYou okay, Richter?â
âvon Hagen,â he corrected. âAnd not quite, Captain.â
âYou can hold onto me,â he said, then faced the crowd of reporters again, âstop it with the cameras. If I see another shot Iâll have you all arrestedââ
âYou better listen to him.â Marius stepped beside Vyn, and in a heartbeat slipped his arm around his hubandâs slender waist. Vyn felt his cheeks grow warm at the feeling of Mariusâ hand holding him around the waist, in front of all these peopleânot to mention he was only wearing a green button top and Marius only in his pajamas. Thank god the cameras had stoppedâcourtesy by Darius who threatened an arrestâbecause those dark red hickeys and bite marks were clearer than the clearest of blue skies.
This man, Vyn thought as he leaned against Mariusâ chest, he really likes to show off, doesnât he?
He tried to hide a chuckle. It was true Marius loved to show off, but he loved it most when Marius showed him off for everyone to see, for everyone to know who owned him. At this moment, the message was pretty clear. Even the most senseless person would make sense what Marius wanted to sayâthat Vyn was his, and Marius was Vynâs. It was written all over the young von Hagen: from the smirk on his lips, the red marks on his exposed chest. The top which covered Vynâs probably hickey-filled body.
And so Vyn acted the part, pretending to be nauseous as he rested his head against his husbandâs shoulder this time, and hooking his arm around Mariusâ. âI am not feeling very wellâŠâ
Marius squeezed his waist gently. âIâll get you inside,â he said, and Vyn nodded faintly. Marius then turned to Captain Morgan, who was staring at them rather incredulously. It was conspicuous he never wanted to be here, to witness all thisâheâd rather spend the day fucking Artem. âSorry, Cap. Iâll give you a call and help you fix our mess. For nowâŠâ he paused and gestured to an exhausted Vyn, âmy husband needs rest. Youâll handle this for now, yeah?â
Darius sighed, massaging his temples. âYes. Iâll also let Artem know.â
âYou better go home to him. He was pretty pissed with us this morning.â
âAnd whose fault is that, Mr. von Hagen?â
âEhh ~â Marius pouted, but before he could say another word Darius asked, âWhat am I going to report? There were a lot of noise complaints. Some said it sounded like a grenade.â
âThe answer is right in front of you.â Marius winked. âYou see, this is what happens when youâre away for work too long. You tend to really, really miss your husbandâŠâ
Darius wanted to roll his eyesâno, he wanted to punch Marius. Does this brat really expect me to write âvery loud, earth-shattering sexâ as the reason for those noise complaints?
Whatever could he do, though? He couldnât possibly deny the Marius von Hagen of all people. Besides, he was not anointed as the newest NXX member for him to report Marius and Vyn just like that. Fineâhe was going to write that unreasonable reason.
Marius seemed to know Darius was not going to deny him, and so the captain was met with the von Hagenâs signature, youthful grin that seemed to say:Â Hehe, you canât deny me, can you?
Darius eyed Vyn one more time. He didnât seem as sick as he appeared, but Darius knew he was indeed exhausted. However he wondered, as he waved the couple goodbye and ordered the reporters and paparazzis to keep out lest they get arrested, how can Richterâer, von Hagenâbe this radiant after that violent shoot-out?
The moment Marius closed the door, Vyn muttered:
âTell Vincent to arrange you an appointment with me,â he said, almost half-moaned, âbased on my findings last evening, you need psychiatric help.â
⊠This hypocrite!
I feel like marivyn would be such a clingy couple ;-;
if they eventually grew fond of one another over time, between Marius's fear of losing his loved ones and Vyn's desire to love and be loved for the first time in his life, those two would be stuck together like glue bsjhbdAJSH
Been playing some tears of themis as of late





