It took Vince summarizing his offer for Cassian to realize what he said. Really realize it. Something they’d never done before, to take a trip of leisure like this. But now that it was voiced out loud, he found himself warmed to the idea. A bit bashful about it, especially when Vince teased him the way he did, turning the typically aloof man a bit sheepish. There was no taking it back, however. That much wasn’t even a question.
“I am,” he confirmed, teeth flashing with a cheeky smile. “It’s a travesty. I feel very bad about it,” he went on, laying it thick with the joke because the idea of Vince being a dowdy housewife very nearly made him burst out in laughter and this did not seem like the right moment to laugh. Amusement forestalling, even for a minute, the subtext in what Vince shared. That this sort of made up for it. Which is a start. He will take ‘sort of.’
He sensed the man’s dissatisfaction before Vince let on to it, a half second for him to draw in a sharp breath as the vice on his lapels brought them close. The smell of Vince’s cologne, the warm of his face next to his, the soft hiss of what he said. It sounded like a threat. Cassian’s amused smile subsided into a wry one, eyes half lidded as he willed the other to close the distance. Even threats sounded nice, with his silky voice.
He really wanted him to close the distance.
“I take it there’s no room for negotiation...” he muttered, mostly intent to be obnoxious. His body language did not give a single indication of intent to hold back, at any rate. Not as one hand curled around Vince’s bicep, while the other wrapped midway around his waist. Particularly not as he finally relented, and his mouth sought another kiss. Sealing in Vince’s mind, at least he hoped, how much he craved and missed this touch. How much he hated to miss their plans.
They stayed this way. However blissful these minutes felt, they went by entirely too fast. This was not enough. (It could never be enough.) It didn’t much matter that they had meetings and business and bloody fucking work to attend to. Nothing save for divine intervention could force Cassian to stop now as his body surged forward into Vince’s, lips charting a familiar path from mouth to jawline to find the pulse at his neck, to burrow his face there–
The jarring sound of a loud knock at the door startled the typically put-together chief. ‘Reminder for your meeting in ten minutes, sir,’ the voice rang through the door, as did the quick clip of heels as the secretary continued down the hall.
Like he touched a scalding hot cauldron, Cass pulled away from Vince with a wince. Eyes flashed apologetic (this is progress). He was not too alarmed, the door was locked and the secretary - along with everyone else, except for fucking Maxime - knew better than to try and barge in. Still… The interruption served its purpose. The divine intervention. A rough drop to reality, a reminder they needed to be fucking careful. Cassian took calculated risks, this was anything but.
“I’m sorry,” he repeated quietly, not elaborating on which part. A recurring theme in their relationship, it seemed.
“I am,” he confirmed, teeth flashing with a cheeky smile. “It’s a travesty. I feel very bad about it,” he went on, laying it thick with the joke because the idea of Vince being a dowdy housewife very nearly made him burst out in laughter and this did not seem like the right moment to laugh. Amusement forestalling, even for a minute, the subtext in what Vince shared. That this sort of made up for it. Which is a start. He will take ‘sort of.’
He sensed the man’s dissatisfaction before Vince let on to it, a half second for him to draw in a sharp breath as the vice on his lapels brought them close. The smell of Vince’s cologne, the warm of his face next to his, the soft hiss of what he said. It sounded like a threat. Cassian’s amused smile subsided into a wry one, eyes half lidded as he willed the other to close the distance. Even threats sounded nice, with his silky voice.
He really wanted him to close the distance.
“I take it there’s no room for negotiation...” he muttered, mostly intent to be obnoxious. His body language did not give a single indication of intent to hold back, at any rate. Not as one hand curled around Vince’s bicep, while the other wrapped midway around his waist. Particularly not as he finally relented, and his mouth sought another kiss. Sealing in Vince’s mind, at least he hoped, how much he craved and missed this touch. How much he hated to miss their plans.
They stayed this way. However blissful these minutes felt, they went by entirely too fast. This was not enough. (It could never be enough.) It didn’t much matter that they had meetings and business and bloody fucking work to attend to. Nothing save for divine intervention could force Cassian to stop now as his body surged forward into Vince’s, lips charting a familiar path from mouth to jawline to find the pulse at his neck, to burrow his face there–
The jarring sound of a loud knock at the door startled the typically put-together chief. ‘Reminder for your meeting in ten minutes, sir,’ the voice rang through the door, as did the quick clip of heels as the secretary continued down the hall.
Like he touched a scalding hot cauldron, Cass pulled away from Vince with a wince. Eyes flashed apologetic (this is progress). He was not too alarmed, the door was locked and the secretary - along with everyone else, except for fucking Maxime - knew better than to try and barge in. Still… The interruption served its purpose. The divine intervention. A rough drop to reality, a reminder they needed to be fucking careful. Cassian took calculated risks, this was anything but.
“I’m sorry,” he repeated quietly, not elaborating on which part. A recurring theme in their relationship, it seemed.
![[Image: BC4TW0z.jpeg]](https://i.imgur.com/BC4TW0z.jpeg)
eyecandy by fox<3