lost a bet to a guy in a chiffon skirt.

“I like it here!” Gideon had loved growing up outside of London, sure, but when it came to living in the city, he found that he had been able to find a slice of life here that accepted him as he was. He hadn’t gotten that when he was a kid, and when Gideon went back to his family home, he still didn’t get that. It wasn’t that his parents were cruel to him; it was just that they didn’t understand. Gideon’s mother was still having a hard time not calling them son. It was enough to drive Gideon up the wall. 

A grin spread across their features. “Mm. I figured as much.” Gideon leaned forward to press a small kiss to Edgar’s lips, dropping their long legs over his lap so that they could pull themself even closer to Edgar and remain completely wrapped up in his arms. “Besides, I’ve, uh…” Gideon paused. “I’ve been staying at Fabian’s, anyway. I like being there.” It was melancholy, sure, but Gideon wanted to wallow in the melancholy for a little while. They wanted to pretend that Fabian was coming back at any moment. They wanted to imagine that they were just waiting there for Fabian to come home from work and they’d sit and talk late into the night or they’d go out and cause a ruckus in the streets together by getting into a couple of brawls. All that potential was gone, and Gideon wasn’t ready to accept it yet. “You could come over, too, you know. We could do the real boyfriends thing.” 

“How would you feel about a country vacation home?” Edgar’s head tilted. He knew just the one-- it belonged to his Aunt. She was probably the only member of the family he ever talked to more than once in a blue moon. When her brother, Edgar’s father, announced himself as a Death Eater, Aunt Helene separated herself from the family and started a new life completely on her own. Edgar would’ve gone to her after running away from home at eighteen, except for the fact she was conveniently pronounced deceased once Edgar discovered his dad’s secret. Whenever he needed to lay low after a job, he’d go to her old cabin and hide out for a couple of days.

Edgar nodded quietly, kissing their cheek several times as he held onto them. “I understand.” Edgar wanted to allow Gideon to cope however they needed. He wanted to give them all the time in the world to deal with this before either of them were to get hit with something else. Edgar was still keeping the truth from them-- he wanted to tell Gideon the second he came back but he couldn’t bring himself to it. Not when Gideon was slowly getting to the cusp of coping. “Yeah? Ice cream and some cheesy muggle films sound like a date tomorrow night?” Edgar looked down at Gideon’s hands, “Would you prefer boyfriend or uh-- something more like partner? Or lover.” He teased before growing serious again, “I-- I just wanna make sure you know you’re very important to me, Gid.”

feelings of envy occur in the forms of emotional pain, a lack of self-worth, and a lowered self-esteem and well-being.

“You know I got nothing out of his will?” Edgar felt an overwhelming amount of sadness fall upon him immediately. “I mean in a sense it’s fair-- I killed him and then I get absolutely zero benefits to help me cope with the situation.” He cackled bitterly. The last hit that Edgar was hired to take out had been his Death Eater father, and following the attack on the Ministry, Edgar felt he deserved no mercy when he found Mr. Bones had a part in it. “He dies and it all goes to my mother and Amelia-- while I get nothing. He’s leaving me out to rot as if I weren’t a good son for the eighteen years I was completely obvious to him.”

“I’d feel like I failed her by not telling her about him as soon as I found out– like I left her to be coerced by him.”

“Oh, I would. But you won’t. What’s that thing they always say in those muggle Westerns?” Gideon paused for a moment, thoughtful as they chewed on a mouthful of food before the light of recognition sprung up in their eyes. “This town ain’t big enough for the two of us.” He leaned forward to put the bowl, empty save for the last few dregs of milk, on the table in front of him before scooting over to nestle against Edgar’s side. Their knees were still drawn to their chest, their hood still tightened around their face, but they were looking up at Edgar with bright—if slightly puffy—eyes. He wrinkled his nose. “Can you imagine me with a shaved head? It was a lose-lose situation, Ed, and I picked the more bearable of the losses.” Besides, Molly had been able to charm it to look somewhat normal after a couple of weeks, when it had at least somewhat grown out. 

Gideon was thoughtful for a moment, just looking at Edgar before bringing a hand up to play lightly with the collar of his shirt. “If we’re boyfriends, I can’t live here,” Gideon said gently. “You understand why, right? I—” Gideon paused, shaking their head. “I’m not ready for that. I think you know that about me.” It didn’t mean they were less infatuated with Edgar; in fact, it was the opposite. They were trying desperately not to go too fast and fuck this up. 

Gideon had a nasty habit of driving relationships like sports cars—he’d go too fast and end up crashing.

“This town really isn’t big enough, it’s so bloody crowded.” Edgar’s nose wrinkled. His family home was out in the countryside, he liked it that way. It was quiet out there-- he didn’t have to worry about the bustling noise of traffic right outside his window. Sure he could charm the walls to be soundproof, but there was something different about living deep in the hills and away from everyone. “You’d look like a kiwi.” Edgar laughed as he kissed the side of Gideon’s head, “an adorable kiwi thought, I might add.” He assured them.

Edgar nodded, “I could be able to live with that. I’d honestly have a boyfriend over a roommate-- boyfriends cuddle you when you’re cold and make you laugh with their sleep talking in the middle of the night. A roommate can’t pick his bloody socks off the floor in the bathroom.” He smirked, wrapping an arm around Gideon to hold him closely. “You’re welcome as often as you’d like, and I was kidding about the couch thing. I very much like you sleeping next to me.” Edgar wanted to keep an eye on Gideon... keep them safe. He figured if Gideon lived here, Edgar could protect him better-- but he didn’t want to be pushy about it. Edgar had yet to hear about the repercussions surrounding his father’s death, he didn’t want bad people to come looking for him and find Gideon as well.

fluffy drugs-- homemade haircuts.

I’ve never been a bigger fan You’re so in tune with your attitude I wanna fly with you never land I wanna try baby, how bout you? And you can sleep on my chest I’ll be your blanket in the cold And I can bring the VHS We’ll be watching til we’re old

Gideon spent most of their time at Edgar’s now. They didn’t feel like going anywhere else, anyway, and they didn’t want to see anyone else. After a few hours with Molly and Arthur, Gideon had felt overwhelmed, and he just ended up coming back here to wait for Edgar to get back from his mysterious job—a job that Gideon still hadn’t heard about, and the not-knowing was killing him. Still, Gideon knew that they would have to be patient if they were going to earn that trust, and they figured that it would be much easier to be patient with Edgar than without him. So, Gideon was perched on the couch, the hood of his sweatshirt drawn tight around his face, balancing a bowl of cereal on his bent knee. 

“You’d make me sleep on the couch? Fuck you,” Gideon grumbled without conviction, wrinkling their nose as they dug into the cereal with their spoon again. He was in a particularly bad mood that day, and he was sure that Edgar had noticed it—which was why Edgar had been so kind and light-hearted all day. Gideon felt bad that they didn’t know how to reciprocate it. “You know the only reason I stay here is because you’re like a furnace. I can’t sleep without you breathing on my neck—it feels like that time Fabian’s drag chick burned off the ends of my hair.” His voice caught slightly on Fabian’s name—but Gideon was trying not to dwell on it. 

Edgar charmed the stove to turn off before flopping down on the couch right next to Gideon. “You really think you’d fit in my king sized bed?” His brow raised before he let out a laugh and leaned over to kiss Gideon’s cheek. Edgar was lonely being by himself, and he didn’t really have any family he could retreat to when he didn’t want to be alone. He hadn’t yet built up the courage to see his mother after leaving home when he was eighteen, and he and Amelia had only been communicating by letter for the last eight months. Really, there was only Gideon that Edgar found peace in surrounding himself with. Of course, he could always bother Gia at the Three Broomsticks or even Ted if he felt like it. But Gideon knew Edgar better than anyone.

“You should’ve just shaved your head after that honestly, you’re hair did not grow back evenly one bit. At night sometimes I can still smell the char.” Edgar twisted the ends of Gideon’s hair in his fingers. He smiled softly for a moment, allowing it to be silent for a moment before speaking again, “So what do you say, roomie? Or is this a boyfriends situation? I think roomie has an adorable innocence to it.”

For a split second, Edgar didn’t want to return home after finishing the job. He didn’t think he could be the same after being hired to kill his own father. Truth was, after it was all over, Edgar didn’t feel any different. He didn’t know if that made him a monster, and he didn’t know if that was something he’d be able to tell Gideon-- that he didn’t feel anything when he did it. When he finally did come home, he spent the next few days taking care of Gideon and making sure he was slowly getting better. Edgar couldn’t tell them yet... they’d both been making good progress since the attack that Edgar wanted to wait at least a few more days.

One morning as Edgar watched Gideon on the couch from the kitchen, he stopped cooking some eggs to walk out and stand in front of the TV. “What if you just lived here?” A small smile lifted at his lips. “I think you’re here enough-- and no offense, but I know the couch at your sister’s is way too small for you. This couch is a hell of a lot comfier.” Edgar teased.

“I had an accident with a bit of Floo Powder...” Edgar huffed as he watched Ted approach him by the fireplace by the Leaky Cauldron. “Tried to see if I could take this to sneak myself into the Ministry, but being an unlucky Code 3-- it kinda blew back in my face.” He groaned as he attempted to wipe the green, glittery powder off his face. “Merlin, I think it got in my eyes-- or have you always been this sparkly, Teddy?” Edgar let out a laugh as he collapsed into a chair with a deep sigh. “I got most of my clients from in there, this is bullshit.” Edgar shook his head. If anyone asked... he was an independent contractor.

“Water?” Edgar gasped as Gia pushed the glass towards him. In all fairness, he’d been overdoing it for the last few nights, so he couldn’t really fight her as he started chugging the water. “I’m one of your most loyal customers, Gia, and this is how I’m treated? With care and emotion? I’m appalled.” Ed said sarcastically as he joked with his friend. “How long you gonna have me on the good ol’ H2O for, hmm?”

Edgar was drunk and still angry following his job that evening-- after finding out his father was one of the Death Eaters present at the Ministry attack, Edgar knew what his final decision on taking the hit was. He was angry that the Death Eaters took his father from him, but he was even more angry that his father had allowed it to happen. Mr. Bones left his entire family behind when he made his choice, and now Edgar would have to pretend to grieve as his mother and Amelia received the news of his death. 

After hiding out in a smelly old bub, Edgar made his wobbly exit only to be met by the eldest Lestrange. “Oi, Roddy-- long time no see, mate.” He smiled drunkenly. “Tell me-- are you still as rottenly terrible as you were in school? I don’t think people like you grow out of that sort of thing.”

“I should be getting home, shouldn’t I?” Edgar mumbled into his glass as he checked his watch. He was slumped back into an old, dingy sofa at the back of some hole in the wall bar. The only person there besides the bartender was an unconscious man on the love seat across Edgar. Once he dragged himself upright and pulled his coat on, his brows raised as finally another breathing creature entered the joint. “And what would Andromeda Black be doing in a dump like this?” He scoffed fondly, his Scottish accent becoming more apparent the more Edgar drank. “I mean, it smells like cat piss in there-- sorry, Bernie.” Edgar held his hands up in defense when the bartender cast him a look. This was his hiding place whenever he finished jobs and needed to stay off the radar, and it was probably the place that fueled his alcohol habit in the early hours of the morning.