Cass’ too-fast response didn’t do much to assuage Vince’s dissatisfaction but at least it settled the panicked part of him that had started to rise. This… tradition of theirs was important to him. It was a game, sure. It was manipulation and conquest and reminder of a pain they both fought with daily but it was important. It proved to Vince that while Cassian might have a grasp on him in every aspect of their lives, Vince too held a small piece of the big blonde he adored so much. It was obsessive and probably more than a little damaging, but Vincent couldn’t imagine his life any other way. He needed Cass like he needed air and he’d be damned if anyone ever tried to take that away from him. Cass himself, included.
The explanation fell to mostly deaf ears, Vince not caring what the reason was. All he knew was that he was being deprived, shoved off, set aside for favor of something more important in Cass’ life. And maybe that was unfair, considering the excuse this time was actually work which… considering everything that had happened recently, did kindof make sense. (Vince himself was one to put work above all else.) But he was still soured at the promotion Cass had unwittingly swiped out from under him so he couldn’t find it in his black soul to be sympathetic as it became an obstacle to their shared tradition.
Soon, Cass said instead. Weeks.
Vince felt his green eyes narrow a touch as he appraised the blonde still in his grasp. There was something to be said for Cassian almost groveling for a forgiveness he didn’t technically need. It eased the shackles rising on the back of Vince’s neck, enough that the former Slytherin let himself even briefly consider the impossible prize that was being dangled in front of him as compensation. Vince hummed, unconvinced. “Are you offering me a whole week end, anywhere in the world, to cover up the tragedy of our broken tradition?” There was a slight teasing lilt to his tone, even if Vince was mostly serious. “I am not a dowdy housewife, Cassian. I require more than expensive trips to be satisfied.” Now Vince really was teasing, as his head tilted back a touch and the corner of his lip curved upwards.
Fingers curled possessively into the lapels of the blonde’s suit and Vince heaved a small sigh. “Fine,” the snake replied, dissatisfied. “But you’d best not back out of this promise. And,” he tugged the other closer so that their foreheads were touching. “I get to decide when we leave the bed.”
In all fairness, a sex retreat wasn’t the worst thing Cassian could have promised him. Even if they might not uphold their sacred tradition on the actual eve of his birthday, Vincent supposed he could accept second best. It did give him a whole two days to do as he pleased, rather than just one evening. That still meant he had to sit alone in his flat tonight, but, Vince supposed, perhaps that was just as well.
The explanation fell to mostly deaf ears, Vince not caring what the reason was. All he knew was that he was being deprived, shoved off, set aside for favor of something more important in Cass’ life. And maybe that was unfair, considering the excuse this time was actually work which… considering everything that had happened recently, did kindof make sense. (Vince himself was one to put work above all else.) But he was still soured at the promotion Cass had unwittingly swiped out from under him so he couldn’t find it in his black soul to be sympathetic as it became an obstacle to their shared tradition.
Soon, Cass said instead. Weeks.
Vince felt his green eyes narrow a touch as he appraised the blonde still in his grasp. There was something to be said for Cassian almost groveling for a forgiveness he didn’t technically need. It eased the shackles rising on the back of Vince’s neck, enough that the former Slytherin let himself even briefly consider the impossible prize that was being dangled in front of him as compensation. Vince hummed, unconvinced. “Are you offering me a whole week end, anywhere in the world, to cover up the tragedy of our broken tradition?” There was a slight teasing lilt to his tone, even if Vince was mostly serious. “I am not a dowdy housewife, Cassian. I require more than expensive trips to be satisfied.” Now Vince really was teasing, as his head tilted back a touch and the corner of his lip curved upwards.
Fingers curled possessively into the lapels of the blonde’s suit and Vince heaved a small sigh. “Fine,” the snake replied, dissatisfied. “But you’d best not back out of this promise. And,” he tugged the other closer so that their foreheads were touching. “I get to decide when we leave the bed.”
In all fairness, a sex retreat wasn’t the worst thing Cassian could have promised him. Even if they might not uphold their sacred tradition on the actual eve of his birthday, Vincent supposed he could accept second best. It did give him a whole two days to do as he pleased, rather than just one evening. That still meant he had to sit alone in his flat tonight, but, Vince supposed, perhaps that was just as well.
![[Image: vincesig.gif]](https://sig.grumpybumpers.com/host/vincesig.gif)
i desire very little but the things i do consume me