August 13th, 1892 — Cassian Valenduris' Office, Ministry of Magic

Vincent Iago loved his birthday. To be frank, he only loved this specific date because it meant he got to steal Cassian’s full, undivided attention, and all things considered, that was a feat enough in itself. As of late the big blonde had been occupied, what with his new role and flitting about on the social scene with some air-headed brunette; Vincent didn’t care enough to really be bothered by these things lies other than when it came to breaks in their general routine. This adjustment that had come in the sense of Cass getting promoted instead of Vince had practically shattered their normal, however, and it had taken some serious mental gymnastics for Vincent to overcome them. He deserved to be rewarded for it somehow.

Whistling his way through the hall down the now familiar route to Cassian’s new office, Vincent couldn’t help the sly smirk that played against his lips. They both knew what today and tonight, and every minute of these next twenty-four hours entailed, and after a long six months, Vincent was in no mood to be coy. Their little routine had been fixed many years ago, held up to stand only by Cassian’s own stupid ‘rules of engagement.’ Vince had long since learned that the blonde was simply in denial of who and what he was, and what he could offer the world his world but there was nothing in him that made Vincent want to protest. He knew better after all thee years than to push Cassian’s boundaries. It wasn’t like they could have what either of them wanted, anyhow, even if Cassian decided to dare to believe he wanted it too.

Knocking on the wood door to the office that was already wide open, Vincent popped only his head in to fix Cassian with a telling, mischievous grin. The look on his face was one that could be read for miles and only Cass would know what it meant, knowing exactly what date it was. Vincent didn’t even try to set any context. Instead, he simply rattled off an address and a time, like he was collecting his prize. (And he was, in a sense. A pig left to auction, to be collected by the family that would devour it.) The method of his delivery was direct and impersonal to make a point. He was only there to remind Cass of their deal, to put up a good show for being the one who was forcing a point. (Vincent usually was the one forcing the point, especially these days. But it wasn’t always from a place of possessive, power-struggle. More often than not it was a softer, more intimate place that longed to just be held, be seen, for what he really was and not what everyone else had warped him into. But today was different. Today it was his role to enforce a ruling that had been dealt by the kings of old and could not be overturned for fear of much chaos and unrest.

Point made, Vincent hesitated only a second as he considered adding something else. In that second he let the facade drop and exposed that hesitation to Cass. Vince instantly felt himself balk. This wasn’t the way it was supposed to go. Tossing a sultry wink in the blonde’s direction, he covered up the hesitation and continued down the hall. They had much time to discuss his tactics and methods later.

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Cassian Valenduris - lol can't let either of their birthdays go by without torturing Cass R.I.P.

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   Cassian Valenduris

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i desire very little but the things i do consume me

Cassian felt the weight of the world on his shoulders today. It gave him little envy for work like Greyback’s or Ross’s, that was for certain. It made him question why in the hell people like Maxime, or even Vince, worked themselves so hard to attain it. The responsibility - the scrutiny - the consequences for outcomes out of one’s control. What good was it to have such power, when nothing on this earth could truly make you invincible?

To say the least, investigations into the murders were not going well. This was not necessarily their department’s remit, but ever since they had it on good authority that such murders would continue, the scrutiny on their department amplified tenfold. To make matters worse Maxime volunteered Cassian for some bloody fucking taskforce, a more secretive venture (the blonde suspected that at the end of it all, those with sufficient authority declined to partner up with Maxime and left him stranded otherwise). The situation yielded hours of overtime, and he hadn't slept much this week. Now the man was deep in thought, considering tactics of urban disbursement of specialist soldiers in the Battle of Paltzig and how it might apply where he assigned his men. A sharp knock jolted a glance up from his desk to find Vince in the doorway, fixing him a telling grin.

Ah, bloody hell. Cassian knew - he knew... but he also forgot. And the feeling felt like acid searing down the heart-side of his chest, because it made him feel like an ass when his childhood friend looked so excited. More excited than he looked in months, actually. Blue eyes blinked impassively back at Vincent who rattled off a place and time, and Cass resisted the urge to frown when he realized it would not be possible. He had to meet with Greyback and Maxime. Even if he swung for a quick break ahead of their meeting, this was Vince. And Vince takes all night.

Cassian should have said something then. He wanted to, meant to even. If only Vince hadn’t faltered at the doorway, causing his breath to catch in his throat as he anticipated something else. ‘Something else’ never came, and the blowback of the wink left him more or less decimated at his desk for a full thirty seconds. Furious, Cassian thought as he finally came to. Vince is going to be fucking furious. The thought felt more enticing than he wanted to acknowledge.

As the sound of Vince’s footsteps grew quieter, Cass finally stood up from the desk and moved swiftly to the hall right outside his door.

“Iago,” he called, tone sharp in the way he spoke with all his men. Years of practice yielded top-tier performances. “A word in my office,” he instructed, beckoning him with a hand on the doorknob.

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Vincent Iago

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eyecandy by fox<3

Almost in the clear, almost in the clear, almost— Vince nearly flinched when he heard Cassian’s voice thunder down the hallway towards him.

Blast he’d been so close.

Turning on his heel playfully, a look of utter innocence on his cheeky visage, Vincent raised an eyebrow at Cassian from a few paces down the hallway. He swallowed the urge to respond with anything even vaguely inappropriate, tempted because he so rarely managed to have such a wonderful opportunity, but clever enough to be tempered by their environment. The look in his green eyes said enough as was though, so retracing his steps with his hands shoved deep in his front pockets, Vincent meandered back the way he’d come.

“Of course, chief,” he rumbled innocently as he brushed past Cassian back into the office. If there was extra emphasis on the word ‘chief’ to insinuate anything, Vincent didn’t acknowledge it.

The inside of Cassian’s new office was familiar to the blonde by now and Vincent leaned against the man’s desk casually. He didn’t have strict boundaries when it was just himself and Cass, close as they were. It was nice in a way, comforting even with the turmoil of recent promotions, and Vince was grateful to his friend for allowing it (not that he had much of a choice.) They were both rather well behaved outwardly anyway; it wasn’t as if anyone could possibly accuse Vincent Iago of anything but abiding by the strictest of Ministry rules. He made bloody sure of it.

As the door to the office was shut, green eyes narrowed a touch. Vince scrutinized the familiar form of his best friend curiously. There had to be something interesting in what Cass was about to say, else the door would have remained open. Cass notoriously refrained from giving them privacy whenever he could, much to Vincent’s chagrin. He wasn’t wrong to force boundaries, but it was still endlessly irritating. Instead of straightening as he wanted to, Vincent narrowed his gaze further and raised a questioning brow.

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Cassian Valenduris

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i desire very little but the things i do consume me

“Tch,” Cassian scoffed at Vince’s emphasis on chief. He knew why, obviously - but swallowed his objection that this promotion wasn’t exactly his fault. Amused blue eyes followed Vince walk past him and into the door, and the door shut promptly behind them. It was charmed to lock and silence, affording the chief due privacy with sensitive matters. Cass knew this. Which is why he so carefully avoided this exact scenario. But then, the matter of breaking bad news to Vince was as sensitive a matter as it comes.

As his hand dropped from the doorknob, back still to Vince, he felt his heart rate spike. Worse than the nerves felt talking to any boss or debutante, without question. Even across the room he felt his friend’s skepticism radiate at him, he wore an expression that demanded, well, I’m waiting.

“Vince.” His voice was quieter now, more earnest as he closed the gap in distance between them. This wasn’t his choice, he wanted to say. He wanted to spill out his frustrations like an avalanche, the words threatened their downpour from the tip of his tongue. But instead Cassian’s feet stopped short an arms length away from the man, and his fingers moved to fretfully comb back his mane of blonde.

There were many ways to play this, after all. Smiles and sweet words to soften the landing, but then he’d be suspicious. Stern and cold would play up the role he’s cultivated himself, but Vince would take nothing as non-negotiable. Better to pick something in between, though the decision got harder by the second now that his body thrummed, clocking before his mind did that there were no secrets they had to put up for anyone in this room.

I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry a thousand times – he backed off the words once he lost his nerve at his friend’s steely green stare.

“I have your present,” he managed instead. That much was true - he picked it out weeks ago, and retrieved it from the jeweler just two days ago, left it secure in his desk because he spent more time here than at home nowadays. Thinking about it left a small smile on his lips. “I thought you might want it now.” Now because later won’t work, but they could cross that bridge when they get there.

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   Vincent Iago

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Vince watched with sharp green eyes as Cassian closed the door then the gap between them. His voice was softer than before, a trap wrapped up in the promise of a virtue. Even still after all these years hearing Cass address him as ‘Vince’ in that sweet little voice that was so rare made doxies flutter all through the former Slytherin’s gut. Something was wrong. Cass never spoke to him like this if he could help it and the look that accompanied the blonde’s squirrely movement only made Vince suspicious.

Leaning against the desk, awaiting a blow, (and rather enjoying the discomfort his potential unhappiness seemed to be causing the other) Vincent remained silent. He knew Cass better than anyone, better than Cass knew himself sometimes, and this catch-more-flies-with-honey attitude did not bode well for their evening plans. Vince knew somewhere, deep down, that he was already disappointed, maybe even a little bit bitter. What, did that shrimp of a brunette have some event instead? Surely Cassian wouldn’t put society above him. Not… today, of all days?

Face betraying only a hint of these jealously guarded thoughts, Vincent was caught entirely by surprise when Cass instead made mention of his birthday gift here and now. Green eyes widened a moment before a genuinely honest little grin took up residence on the Slytherin’s face. He hadn’t bared such honesty to anyone, even Cass, for years and the nakedness of it was uncomfortable. To compensate, Vince let the hint of a tease touch his quiet response as he leaned forward - not quite touching - but still firmly encroaching upon the blonde’s personal space. “I never thought you’d have the gumption to give me my gift here, at the ministry, in your office of all places.”

Not that Vince hadn’t had that very dream time and time again in between the feverish nightmares that had come after Cassian’s promotion. It just wasn’t like the blonde to be so spontaneous and risky.

Standing to his full height, Vincent hooked the cold fingers of his left hand into Cassian’s pant hem and tugged the other closer with a jerk. He knew very well he could be miscalculating, that Cassian may have bought him an actual gift, but it was unlikely. And, if it was true by some stretch of the imagination, then at least Vince figured he could steal what contact he had the opportunity for now before the blow that was sure to come after. After all, why would Cassian be so hellishly, torturously sweet if it wasn’t just going to disappoint Vince in the end?

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Cassian Valenduris

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i desire very little but the things i do consume me

Vincent was quiet, for once, which was the only clue Cassian needed to understand that the man was suspicious. As he should be. He couldn’t blame him, this was a clear departure from their regular routine. There was a point many years ago where Cass took the man’s intelligence for granted, and it was a mistake he never made again.

That wasn’t the only reason that emerald gaze drew somersaults from his stomach however. Other reasons kept him rooted on the spot even as Vince encroached, like welcoming the smell of his cologne, or proximity to the silken tones of his voice. It even pulled a smirk from his typical inscrutable, observant face.

“Hm, I take exception to that. Just because I don’t like mixing work and pleasure doesn’t mean I can’t be daring… when I want to be.” If he should make anything obvious to Vince, he hoped to at least clear up that delaying their date meeting was not his choice. Of course, calling himself daring, now he had to eat those words.

Cass premeditated the forceful pull by just a second, hands landed on either side of Vince’s hips on the desk. This - wasn’t what he meant. Cool eyes assessed Vince’s with dubious amusement, suspecting he knew as much. His heart rate took off anyway, realizing they haven’t done this in the office... ever? And why would they have - always with all the time in the world out in the field or at one of their homes when they worked as partners.

Things change fast.

It took no coaxing at all, for Cass to lean into Vince’s touch. Their mouths met in the middle, where he sighed with something like relief and their kiss deepened. It wasn’t as though Vince was the only one (anymore), who longed for the brief moments between long stretches of time where he could be exactly who he was. Mask aside, guiltless for indulging in simply what one wants. So Cassian took the moment for himself too: one hand moved from the desk to caress Vince’s back, hold him there. He lost track of how long.

A jolt from touching bare skin around the waist - where it shouldn’t be - finally disentangled Cassian from his plunge. The man reluctantly pulled away, but not completely. He straightened up, and moved to readjust his tie that had gone eschew. He felt... winded.“I have a real gift for you,” he corrected himself, raising his eyebrows and nodding around the desk to inquire if he was allowed to get it. “I want to see if you like it.” If only to keep things good, for a little longer.

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Vincent Iago - holygeez mental gymnastics

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   Vincent Iago

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The fact that Cassian Valenduris let him encroach made everything inside of Vincent stand to attention. The former Slytherin was both alarmed and incredibly pleased, atuned to every marginal movement or glance the blonde before him made in that moment. His delicious little smirk made Vincent want to bite— but then Cassian flirted and everything inside of Vince melted. He suddenly didn’t care what bad news the other had to impart; he didn’t care what the repercussions were of this moment crumbling around them. All Vincent wanted, more than anything, was for Cass to mean it. For this to be their new normal not just some parlor trick Cassian put out to keep him from getting upset on occasion…

Vincent shielded his earnest behind a raised eyebrow. “Prove it,” he whispered, leaning into Cassian’s face as his little tug brought the other closer. Green eyes flashed dangerously as the blonde’s hands settled against his waist. Was Cass actually going to hold his own? Usually it was so easy for Vince to call his bluffs… not that there were many. The former Slytherin caught himself surprised as the other kissed him however, and it was apparent.

Instantly, Vincent moved to wrap his arms around Cass’ big torso, the very one he wished endlessly day in and day out he could embrace just like this. It was more than just physical need that tugged at the obliviator’s heartstrings. It was also emotional. Cass was… everything to Vince. Sun and moon both, guiding light and deity. There wasn’t anything Vincent Iago cared for, or about, more than this man, and there was little he wouldn’t do to prove it. To hold him, time and time again, regardless of whatever happened around and between them. As Cass gently pressed him closer, Vincent lost all sense of time. He kissed like his life depended on it (and maybe it did in this moment) to the point where he didn’t notice if Cassian made him untidy, or tugged his shirt loose from its place in his trousers. It wasn’t until the other pulled away and everything around them got a little less bright that Vincent finally resurfaced. The only emotion he could manage to name then was: disappointment.

Cass made to rearrange his tie, which Vince had inadvertently latched onto, and the former Slytherin tucked his own shirt back into place. (He was meticulous about being pristinely attired and any wrinkles were rather noticeably unwelcome.) Vince was still looking down at himself when Cass announced there was, in fact, a real gift in play. Green eyes blinked in surprise and Vince shuffled to the left as Cassian endeavored to move around him. “You didn’t have to,” he teased playfully, hoping to keep the tone light. “But since you did, I hope it’s better than that terrible marmalade you gave me on Boxing Day last year.” There was an arrogant quality to his tone, but behind it only gentility. Anyone who didn’t know Vince might have rolled their eyes but Cass knew him. Cass knew him better than anyone. It was for this reason he didn’t want to push and break their moment apart. They were in a very fragile little bubble. When it burst, hell hath best be prepared.

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Cassian Valenduris tell me about it @.@

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   Cassian Valenduris

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i desire very little but the things i do consume me

Prove it, he said. Cassian couldn’t help the way he swelled with pride at how he might end up proving Vince something quite important. Words were never his strong suit. Actions said so much more than he could hope to.

They never talked about it, how their recent birthdays felt more significant than previous ones. In a way, each courting his prospective (and inevitable) fate. Realities that might cause them to drift apart from each other over time. If they weren’t so determined to not allow that to happen. This wasn’t an arrangement to take for granted - Cass knew that.

Probably because of it, Cass orchestrated countless scenarios in his mind to make this moment special. Alone, somewhere picturesque, a surprise. Having only two out of three of these requirements to mark the occasion was... less than desirable. His office was far from scenic. But Vince’s look of surprise sent a shiver of pleasure down his back, and the moment felt right.

“I know I didn’t have to.” His laugh belied the flutter of anxiety in his stomach once he rounded the desk. The second drawer to his right, charmed to oly unlock with his hands, revealed a slim and long parcel with a nice bow. He leveled Vince a playfully apologetic look before he handed it over. “Ahh- Sabine’s marmalade,” he hastened to correct with a grin. “‘Rustic charm’, she called it. Nearly murdered me when I suggested she should leave the house-elves to do the jarring this year.”

Of course, despite the easy words traded, someone who knew Cassian well would clock the way his eyes lingered over every gesture of the hands, averted thoughtfully to watch his reception to the gift. I hope you like it, Cass’s expression said.

In the case: a stunning matching set of cufflinks, studs, waistcoat chain, and lapel brooch. The metal altered to yellow or white-gold depending on the properties of its adjacent materials. It wrapped sleek and stately around a setting of onyx with a small emerald inlay that reflected Vince’s monogram. Modern and luxe. Understated and elegant. Detailed and immaculate. Everything that represented Vincent, in his mind.

“I… noticed you didn’t have something with your name,” he explained quietly. The most important part of it all. Precious enough to be a family heirloom, the jeweler said. Blue eyes almost shy when they lingered on Vince’s lapel rather than his face, the exact place that brooch might go. Summoning his promise of daring, his gaze finally turned to find the other’s. “Shall I help you try a piece on?”

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Vincent Iago

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   Vincent Iago

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Vince couldn’t help but laugh at Cass’ response. Sabine. Vince’s favorite of all Cass’ siblings. She was the fireiest of them all, save for Cass, but also the one who paid him the least mind. In her own way, she was sweet and cared for him, while also not giving less of a rats tail what Vincent Iago did with his life. Unlike Mama Valenduris, Sabine didn’t carry the same prejudice to his name and she always seemed to subtly come to his aid with Cass whenever he might need it. That said, poor Sabine was not a talent in the kitchen, as many upper class ladies tended. They had no need for it really, and without practice, there was no hope.

“Well don’t tell her I hated it,” Vince replied breezily. “She’s still my favorite of you lot.” An easy tease settled on his lips and Vincent watched as Cass’ expression changed when the gift was retrieved. The look on the blonde’s face was precious, finite in a way that made Vincent want to memorize every detail with his lips. He knew Cass was hoping he liked the gift. There was no reality in which he wouldn’t either, Vince realized.

Tugging the box open, Vince was greeted by a lovely set of accessories. They were sleek and new and as he tugged the lapel brooch from its casing, Vincent marveled at the magical quality of it. It must have been enchanted to match perfectly however he decided to attire because it changed from yellow to white gold in that instance. The elegant green stone and monogram only elevated the quality of the pieces and Vince felt a small pang. He wasn’t sure he loved the idea of reflecting his own name or monogram to the public; there was still a lot of prejudice in the world that he waged war upon each day. One of the few advantages he had left was that few recognized him on first glance (though even that was falling to the wayside as he attended more and more events for the Wixeldorfs).

When Cass commented exactly upon this touchy subject, Vince balked internally. He couldn’t well be ungrateful about it. “Ah, yeah,” he replied. “You know how it can be,” he shrugged a little, feeling like a scrawny sixteen year old again. (How was it only Cass ever made him feel like that?) Pushing the thought aside, Vince offered the blonde a smile. “Thank you, though,” he added quietly, genuinely. “It’s lovely.”

Cass finally met his gaze and Vince wondered how much leeway he had in this moment to ebb the tides. “Sure, how about the cufflinks,” he offered, replacing the brooch and tugging free the two little links. The emeralds glimmered in the office lighting. Holding them out in his palm, Vince closed the space between himself and Cass so they were closer and began to remove his existing cufflinks. “We’ll have to be careful this evening,” he murmured quietly then, still ebbing. “Can’t afford to loose these in the tussle.” A cheeky little smile touched the corners of Vince’s expression as he offered Cass his arm while still working the links. This was a task easier completed with two sets of fingers rather than one.

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Cassian Valenduris

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i desire very little but the things i do consume me

Cassian couldn’t read minds - that realm of magic fell more in Vincent’s expertise, actually. Though he was observant, most of all when it came to noticing the most subtle of cues from the people he’s watched for most of his life. Though the former Slytherin’s mask was quite good, it was not infallible. So too were some of his past frustrations and gripes that quickly sprang to Cass’s mind when the gift was met with less-than-delight.

Although, he had a sense that this might happen. The thought left a lingering, conspiratorial smile as he watched those green eyes assess the monogram with the smallest hint of worry.

“You know, as a man who is so relentless in his ambitious pursuit of world domination,” Cassian’s tease adopted a playfully stern note, “You may have to grow accustomed to the idea that people ought to know your name. Something to think about?” He was being an aloof ass on purpose, but this is because he knew. How deep this wound ran, even long after it should be a scar by now. A conversation they have had so many times. Vince was not defined by what his father supposedly did. “This is your name, Vince… One to be proud of, and make people remember,” he reminded him gently.

Cassian relieved Vince of the box with the rest of the jewels then, placing it deftly on the desk while the other man moved closer. He didn’t back away, quite the opposite. The blonde leaned in, soaking in the scent of Vince’s cologne. Bold hands moved to close around to the cuff Vince extended, helping him withdraw the old cufflink while slipping on the new one. Today the metal chose silver, and the emerald flashed briefly in the room’s light.

“Watch,” he murmured, letting his mouth linger near Vince’s ear. His thumb covered the cufflink, and he rubbed hard at it in three swift circles, as though polishing off a scuff. When he moved his finger, it revealed how the cufflink bore Vincent’s monogram no longer - the hard angles of “V” and “I” turned into three, discreet bars across the surface like a handsome geometric pattern. Cass was a bit of an idiot, but not a complete one. In his mind, there were plenty of circumstances where it made perfect sense to be a bit more opaque about your identity. “It goes back and forth. Whatever you’d like. But you know the one I like.”

This moment – he wanted to hang on to it. Even as he internally grimaced at what Vince said about their meeting this evening (something he said on purpose, maybe, assuming he still had his suspicions. Knowing it would get out of Cassian the guilt-trip that it would). Only, the more he put it off – likely the worse the fallout would be. He could not take his friend’s intelligence for granted. So Cass moved to press a chaste kiss on Vince’s temple, because it was there, and because he wasn't sure if he'd be allowed to kiss him again. The man heaved a soft sigh against soft strawberry-blonde curls before pulling away, deciding to slowly let out some of the steam.

“Yes… this evening…” he repeated, voice a bit distant and hollow. “Ah, Vince. You can tell, can’t you. That I don’t have good news,” he was trying to be tentative. Honesty felt important. But Cass also wanted to offer a temporary reprieve, if he could– another sweet moment or two, where they could venture to ignore the inevitable fissure.

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eyecandy by fox<3

Vince wasn’t sure what the shift in Cass’ countenance really implied as he his tone switched from teasing to meaningful. The words were heavy, laden with an understanding of so much more than Vince was comfortable anybody knowing about him. His ambitions, his goals, his legacy, his strife… It was only Cassian that knew the reality of these as more than just a scratch on a perfectly maintained facade: like cubic zirconia pretending to be a diamond, impermeable and indestructible, when in reality there was so much more fragility to be had.

Vince still battled, each and every time he met someone knew, about introducing himself as an Iago. ‘Vincent’ he had no qualms with. His name suited him, and he liked it. But Iago. For any upper class wizarding family worth their salt, the sound of those syllables in that order drew cause for concern, suspicion, and scorn. (In the muggle world it carried very little weight at all; Peters was the name that brought him attention there, and at least his mother’s side continued to be well respected, even if the two of them were less so.) As such, Vince was strategic in striking up a correspondence with certain players prior to introducing himself formally. He knew every name, face, and publicly available secret about largely anyone in power at the Ministry or in the upper class realm of society— but very rarely was the inverse true. Vince’s anonymity upon first glance was his greatest asset.

As of late however, he’d struck up a few rather powerful connections for himself. Business, outside of the Ministry laboring, was good. Gaston Wixeldorf was proving to be an invaluable resource when it came to promotion of Vince’s ambition to radiate in the upper echelons of society in exchange for some easy favors. His anonymity was waning as a result but luckily for Vince, only in the best ways possible. All that was left was to marry well and hopefully, given the right circumstances, he too might get propelled upwards like a damsel rising from the ashes of her class. (Back to his rightful place, after all.) With this thought in mind, perhaps the monogram would serve him well. Not today, maybe not even tomorrow, but perhaps one of these days.

Glancing up into familiar, intoxicating blue eyes, Vince tried to keep the turmoil from his own. He knew Cass meant well, and wanted what was best for him. He might not have known the particulars, but in essence, he was right.

This is your name, Vince… One to be proud of, and make people remember.

If a tingle of desire raked up and down Vince’s spine at that statement, he did his best to suppress it. They switched the cufflinks in a moment of silence, tension radiating from Vince’s fingers in a way he almost hoped Cass wouldn’t notice. (For once.) Then, the blonde went on to show him a small trick to hide the monogram itself, and Vince straightened a little in his eagerness. He sometimes was surprised at how perceptive and clever the big blonde could be; they were close, sure, but sometimes even Vince took Cassian at face value considering they spent so much less time together these days. “Thank you,” he breathed quietly, again, hints of a genuine little smile tickling the corner of his mouth.

Cass was so close then, so pliant and willing, that something inside of Vincent nearly flinched when he spoke again. Bad news. Here it came. Vince hooked one finger into Cassian’s belt-loop, holding the other there as he raised his gaze to give the other a withering look. “You can’t make it,” he supplied shortly. There was a pause and then he hedged again. “Can’t? Or won’t?” Because it mattered. It made all the difference in the world.

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Cassian Valenduris

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i desire very little but the things i do consume me

Cass caught himself, too late, fixated on Vincent’s lips. Not quite clocking the tension held in Vince’s fingers as they had a quiet moment together, because in the office’s stillness he felt tense himself. The two of them braced for the loss – these intimate moments that blink in and out of existence far too quickly. Intimate moments that Cass will always stack up against the memory of that afternoon they first kissed. And the realization he had as an adult, how every soft moment they’ve shared thereafter – even this one – feels the same now, as it did then. Flutters in his gut and all. Like the very first time.

If this is not the most obvious indication of love…
Cassian still could never admit it.

It was easier to default to actions instead of words, anyway. Their arrangement no accident, their present and future as inextricable companions (so he hoped). This gift. Acts of service. The way satisfaction moved through Cassian’s chest as he watched Vince stand a bit taller and almost-smile. These are the ways Cassian found to convey the things he could never utter out loud.

“You’re welcome,” he said quietly, dropping one hand to the desk, the other at his side. For a moment, warm.

Though he could sense it - the distrust (Cassian couldn’t blame him. He’s never been very clear or consistent). Vince’s fingers kept him rooted at the spot, but he didn’t plan to move off anyway. Even with that withering look thrown at him. Cassian nodded when Vincent supplied the answer, which was only a small abatement from the fact that he deserved to know.

“Can’t,” he confirmed, almost as quickly as Vincent asked. He didn’t want this to even be a question. It wasn’t just Vince who wanted this, he craved it too. It aggravated him to feel torn away, especially when lately it felt like they existed on borrowed time. Everything would change with courtship, wives, family, duty... and he detested anything that got in the way of their ability to delay the inevitable. “Direction from fucking Greyback himself. I had no choice, and now I can’t…”

Can’t even finish a bloody sentence.

“...I can’t meet today,” he eventually managed, deflated too, because this meant quite a delay. There was work. There were these ghastly murders. Not to mention this hellish season with endless social commitments to crowd out their weekends. “But we can, soon. Once we’re out of these next few weeks,” he pressed, still not budging an inch from where Vince held him, blue eyes earnest. “Tell me how I can make it up to you. Shall we sail off into the sunset? Literally. Maybe a vacation somewhere warm,” he volunteered, the idea of the two of them on a boat off the Amalfi coast almost bringing a smile to his face.

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   Vincent Iago

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eyecandy by fox<3

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.

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Cassian Valenduris

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i desire very little but the things i do consume me

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.

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   Vincent Iago

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eyecandy by fox<3

Vince could see the moment Cass realized what it was he’d offered and became embarrassed by it. Green eyes narrowed suspiciously again, head tilting just so. It would be rather like Cass to back out, Vince thought bitterly, but then his train of thought broke as the other settled into a tease, and Vince let out a tiny breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. The years had made him skeptical, even of the one love he held dear. Anything that seemed even a little bit too good to be true was bound to fall through, especially when it came to Cass, he’d learned. This time, Vincent wasn’t about to give him the opportunity to fail.

Their foreheads pressed together as Vince listed out his demands, but Cass for his part did not seem finished teasing. The little seductive drawl that tried to negotiate was almost sweet enough to entice Vince to give him his way… but no.“I think not,” the snake hummed in reply. He would not give Cass space to fall back now. Luckily, Cass didn’t seem so inclined as he pressed forward, closing the space between them again.

Vince felt like he was being exposed to oxygen after months without. He closed his eyes, leaning desperately into the kiss, taking whatever it was he could get. He was mildly impressed with Cassian being so forthcoming considering they were actually within the Ministry building. Normally such behavior was strictly Against The Rules that Vince often butted up against. He was used to being scolded by Cass’ stony expression for this or that, always a game to be played away from the eyes of others. There was nothing on this planet that Vincent adored more than Cassian however, and having him just within reach day in and day out was… torture.

It was release of this torture that fueled Vince’s surge forward. How infrequently was he allowed to actually hold the object of his burning affection? How often was he granted the permission to actually kiss Cass, and prove to the big blonde how much he loved him? The feel of Cass’ lips on his neck nearly made Vince’s knees weak and the obliviator held back a small groan. His fingers fumbled for Cass’ tie, itching to pull the other back up to his face, when there was a sudden knock at the door. Vince froze and Cass startled away from him so quickly, he barely managed to blink.

Breath short, the former Slytherin watched as the all too familiar, apologetic little smile was flashed in his direction. This was a pivotal moment wherein he had two choices. One: he could flash a clever little grin in return all while smoothing his own attire and commenting upon their shared promise. Or two… he could straighten just quickly enough that Cass wouldn’t have time to react and heave the big blonde up against the door to the office, sliding down his torso and blowing up every defense that had been shuttered. They had ten minutes after all.

Mischief and desire flashed in green eyes at the thought but Vince opted for choice number one.

He smoothed his lapels and peeled himself off Cassian’s desk. Then, with a sultry expression, Vince made for the door. “Just don’t forget your promise, chief.”

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Cassian Valenduris

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   Cassian Valenduris

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i desire very little but the things i do consume me