Archive of Our Own

Drops of rain relentlessly patter against Ratio’s face as he brisk walks through the alleys between old brick buildings. He’s a little between hastened steps and full on sprinting — eager to escape the pursuit of whoever is rapidly closing in on him. This evening out was meant to be a simple grocery run to last him for a week but the trip quickly turns grim as an unnerving message is delivered to him by a shaking cashier.

Start running — the note reads. Against his liking, he’s been forced into a game of cat and mouse as he makes a beeline in the direction of his residence. No, his safe house. If Ratio had to make a guess on who would be audacious enough to start a chase with him through the delivery of a third party, it would be the Stonehearts. Within the political boundary of Pier Point, its very grounds are divided between the ever hungry battle between ten Stonehearts who work under a common leader. On top of their frequent clashes that often come at the cost of the lives of commoners, their radar has now honed in on Ratio himself. 

More specifically, they want his intellectual property. Piles and piles of confidential research, vaccines manuscripts and solutions to problems that they profit on. All this and more comes from the brilliant mind of Veritas Ratio. In a more ideal world, Ratio would freely disseminate his findings to patch the holes of the societal fabric. However, as long as Pier Point were to remain ‘Pier Point’, Ratio would find it wise to keep his cards close to his chest. Lest they fall into the hands of those vying to abuse it.

Ratio’s person is drenched and his trench coat weighs heavily on him. The paper bag full of supplies holds poorly against the torrential downpour and it threatens to tear at any moment. Just a little more! But Ratio can already feel the contents of the bag spilling out. He had been winding through alleyways and back end streets for close to an hour now in an attempt to throw them off but his pursuer proves tenaciously persistent. One more turn would reveal the entrance of his safe house but it’s too late.

In his haste, Ratio fails to spot the figure waiting for him by the corner’s bend. It happens quicker than Ratio can fight back. He’s dealt with a blow to his solar plexus, hard and blunt that’s forceful enough to get him to drop the now-torn grocery bag. Winded, but not down, Ratio keels to the side. He can still take a sharp left to evade his pursuer. Though just as he looks up to regain his bearings, he’s greeted with one last blurry sight. A man, smaller in stature and… blond. That is all he sees before a sweet-smelling fabric smothers his airways. The substance is potent and the altercation forces Ratio down onto his knees. It’s a brief struggle till Ratio gives out. He’s out cold and in the arms of his pursuer.

It feels like an instant when Ratio opens his eyes again. But the movement of eyelids tediously parting feels like it had taken hours. In his groggy lucidity, Ratio finds himself tied to a chair with his arms tightly bound to its armrests. While one wrist is bound regularly, the other is faced up with his sleeves rolled back. That doesn’t bode well for him. He keeps his figure in the same position he woke up in — hunched over with a horrible crick in his neck. Ratio isn’t necessarily young anymore and this position does not do his spine any favours. Still, he bears through the pain as he takes in what he can observe.

The air is cool, but thick and humid. The substance he inhaled was chloroform, as supplied by its immediate effects and what follows after. Lethargy is characteristic to the aftereffects of the anaesthetic used but had his kidnapper do a bit more research, they’d have realised that such an act does not require the overzealous hand of that much chloroform. The dusty cement floor isn't particularly noteworthy but his observation is cut short when a voice calls out to him.

“Up so soon?” The voice is light. “Playing dead is cute and all, but acts like this will only amuse me for so long.” Against his will, Ratio’s head is yanked up by his chin and forces him to look up. He had no time to wonder when this person had closed in on him. Not when the owner of that sweet voice makes Ratio’s heart drop.

In a distant past that Ratio clings onto, his days were kept busy caring for a little girl who stood only as high as his chest. Her smile brightened his day better than the sun ever could, her banter amused Ratio better than any television show could. Of all things in the world, this little girl was the one he held dearest. Blonde hair, piercingly beautiful cyan-magenta eyes. There’s no mistaking it… the cold, gloved hands cupping his cheeks belong to none other than-

“Kakava-” His body is doused in cold sweat. Two fingers immediately jab into his mouth, hurling a gag out of him.

“Hah, it’s just like you to jump to analysing something the moment you realise something is off. Though…” The person before Ratio looks around. “It’s exactly this is exactly the kind of thing that would put you in trouble. You know Stonehearts leave no stone unturned.”

Veritas feels as if his windpipe is closing in on itself. This is no longer about the scholar Dr. Ratio. This concerns Veritas, his heart and the ache that never mended itself. Nausea and a racing heart go terribly together, no matter how beautiful the person standing before him is. How many years has it been? Eight? It’s been far too long since a part of his soul had been ripped out of him. In the harsh lighting of the room they’re in, Veritas takes in the shadows cast upon Kakvasha’s face by his cheekbones. 

Carissima, have you been eating well? You were always a picky eater. Veritas would have been willing to push aside the situation he’d been thrust into were it not for Kakavasha’s next words. “Right, I almost forgot to introduce myself.” Kakavasha retracts the fingers logged in Veritas’ mouth, paying no mind to the trail of saliva that coats his glove. “You may call me Aventurine, leader of Double Indemnity.”

Aventurine gestures and tilts forward in a princely bow, but his eyes stay pierced to capture Veritas' horror. A sly, knowing smile sends shivers down his spine. Aventurine, Aventurine of Stratagems, Double Indemnity. All are names attached to the particular Stoneheart that makes merchants and governors walk on a tightrope in the district Veritas resides in. He had never got the chance to see this Stoneheart in person, not when he was actively avoiding them. Word amongst the people who had been wretchedly blessed enough to see the Stoneheart call him a beauty like no other. A gem for the ladies to swoon over and delicate enough for men to leer at. A golden peacock, draped in finery with a sweet tongue obscuring barbed intentions.

“You’ve been running around too much, getting the wrong attention when you should have been keeping to yourself.” Aventurine struts to a nearby table, fetching a folded piece of parchment. Veritas knows exactly what’s on it. It’s been fished out of his pocket in the time he was unconscious, clearly. On it are coordinates of goods that had just arrived at the dock the same evening. Had Veritas not have his plans go awry, he would have taken a detour home to fetch a couple ‘extra’ items.

“To be honest, I had no intention to join the fray. Office politics have never been pleasant to meddle with, after all. But watching you scurry around like this for a long time has made me realise something very important I want out of you.” Aventurine doesn’t specify what he wants but Veritas still can’t bring himself to fight back yet. He’s just barely listening, still reeling at how much his Kakavasha has grown.

The streets of Pier Point aren’t kind. They abandon, they steal. Left in its wake are children with no one to love them and no where to go. Veritas took a young Kakavasha in when she he was at death’s door. He clothed the child, caring for him and giving him an education. It was a lovely few years till an explosive argument led to Kakavasha’s self-selected departure. The contents of the argument… doesn't matter. Veritas continues to stand where he last did eight years ago.

For eight years, Veritas never stopped looking even as Kakavasha would have been well into adulthood. Veritas thought he must’ve gone far and wide, but not once did he consider that the piece of his soul that he had been looking for was the very figure plaguing the peace that could envelope the district. A ball forms in Veritas’ throat, yet he pushes him to say;

“I have nothing to offer you.” It’s what he tells any Stoneheart who tries to elicit his favour. Yet unlike the others, he cannot view Kakavasha the same way. There could be no instance where he denies aid to his little light. Yet a reality so far detached from what Veritas could ever expect forces him to do what he must. Must… Must he? Had his mission in life not been extending an olive branch when it came to vulnerable souls asking for help?

But the man standing before him right now is no vulnerable soul. The gold rings ornamenting his fingers glimmer under the light and individual gems worth more than most can scrounge for scatter his clothing like confetti. Every piece of clothing wrapping his lithe form is built upon the sorrow of laymen who find themselves trapped in his schemes. Veritas could pluck every gem off his clothes, tear the fabric by the seams and trade them for wealth placed in the right hands. He used to easily wrestle this child as he ran out the shower without drying himself. Could he do the same now?

The answer would be no. Not because of the weapons that are hidden on Aventurine’s person, but because Veritas would rather die than hurt him. Despite the pained look on the older man’s face, Aventurine merrily continues. “Oh, don’t be like that, Doctor! Of course you do.” He steps closer, leaning in to glide the saliva coated fingers across Ratio’s cheek. “And you will give it to me.”

There’s a faint scent of alcohol on Aventurine’s breath. Whiskey? Veritas would have thought Kakavasha to favour lighter liquors. He also wished to celebrate his coming of age with a bottle shared between the two. But alas, Veritas must steel himself. “If you wanted something from me, my residence would have been ransacked long ago.”

“Precisely!” the Stoneheart looks overjoyed that Veritas said that. “If what I want isn’t in that lovely, quaint house of yours… Then it must be in that lovely brain of yours, mmh?” The hand on Veritas’ cheek slides away, leaving a path Veritas wishes he could thread to close the gap between them once more. He watches with weary eyes as Aventurine tugs a metal cart towards them. It's nothing out of the ordinary, one typically found wherever things need to be stored.

But it’s the singular content on the tray that worries Veritas. Thiopentone — Sodium thiopental. Veritas easily recognises the label on the palm sized bottle. After all, he had contributed great efforts to recall the use of said drug in all medical practices. But naturally, the bottles he missed ended up in the hands of a Stoneheart. While its main use lies in anesthetic or even as lethal injection, studies ‘claim’ its effectiveness as a ‘truth serum’ of sorts. Logically, there is no such thing. But there is no time to get into that. 

Not when Aventurine draws the fluid into the string and flicks its vial to expel the bubbles within. As Veritas thought, his exposed wrist meant nothing but trouble. Though as a drop of the drug’s fluid happens to fall on his lips, Veritas tastes… something salty. Which shouldn’t be the case. There are a dozen fluids that could taste saline in nature but Veritas cannot narrow down a substance based on its taste in a mismatched bottle.

Aventurine’s eyes glimmer at Veritas, far too happy to be in a situation that could inflict harm onto his former guardian. Gone is the bright child Veritas once tended to, he thinks. Before him is a cunning fox who grazes his fingers over the bulging veins on Veritas’ forearm. “So reactive,” Aventurine coos. Beside them, a mirror is plastered against a wall. Aventurine’s eyes flicker towards it, as does Veritas upon noticing. 

The blonde leans in, drawing Veritas’ attention back on him. His smile is wide, unsettling. The hand on Veritas’ wrist glides to his chest, feeling and gently groping the muscle. There’s a glaze in his sharp eyes Veritas is apprehensive of. He cannot move his head away when Aventurine closes the gap between them and is only able to turn his head just shy of their noses touching. Warmth from Aventurine’s lips presses against his cheek and the feeling isn’t vile. But this shouldn’t be happening.

Lips ghosting along the shell of Veritas’ ear, Aventurine whispers. “You’ve always been a good storyteller. So put on a show for your audience.” The syringe pierces Veritas’ veins and its contents are emptied into him. He winces, arms tensing as the mysterious fluid enters his bloodstream. The passing seconds are crucial to Veritas and his forehead beads with sweat as he attempts to ascertain what he has been administered. Nausea begins to creep back into him and he braces himself for the questioning ahead of him.

The Placebo effect is a funny thing that greatly relies on the patient’s belief of what the drug is meant to do. Though it is exactly the ‘gap’ in information that makes it more effective on those without an in-depth knowledge of what a substance is meant to do. Which is exactly what Veritas is not. In a room with a barred window the length of his shoe perched high above his head, he’s come to the conclusion of three things. One, the drug he was administered was not thiopentone. If Veritas had to make a guess, it was likely a mild saline solution. Two, Aventurine’s motives remain unclear. He did interrogate Veritas but whether or not he cared if his answers were the truth… Questionable. And third, Veritas will likely be stuck in this room for the foreseeable future. 

For a captive's living arrangements, it is rather luxurious. A bookshelf stocked with a collection of books that could compare to an academic collection sits at his disposal. Next to it is a study table furnished with a decent amount of paper, pens, ink and even a waste bin that seems a bit much for his situation. Last but definitely not least, a large bed sits at the corner of the spacious room. Pillows, duvet and even a bolster… Frankly similar to what Veritas has at home minus a decent window.

In the week that has passed since his abduction, Veritas adapts to the new ‘normal’ he’s been thrusted into. It’s beyond inconvenient to be plucked from his ongoing projects and worrying of what would become of his residence and safe house. But he focuses more on what the hell Aventurine could possibly be planning. Having to fake a physical reaction to the mildest intravenous fluid was something Veritas had never attempted before.

Implicitly, Aventurine wants his cooperation beyond his role within the Stonehearts. But his penchant towards fleeting, vague encounters leave Veritas in the dark on how to proceed. Though if this unspoken cooperation is something that stresses him out, then it barely holds a flame towards the more pressing matter at hand. Kakavasha. Veritas has not managed to find him all these years. Yet when his little light needed something, he immediately plucked Veritas from his day-to-day life to have him for himself.

Should he be happy despite the unconventional reunion? In their years apart, just what could have led to Kakavasha tainting himself — sullying his hands when Veritas would have stopped at nothing to keep him from the same harm. His brief looks at Aventurine leave him winded. Is the little child he used to cook for still there? Would he run into Veritas’ arms if he stretched out his arms like he used to?

The room he’s forced to reside in doesn’t receive much light. But Kakavasha’s radiance each time he walks into the room makes Veritas feel like dawn has finally come after a long night. He tosses and turns in the admittedly comfortable bed, awaiting the time Aventurine visits him for another chance at conversation. Unfortunately, the younger man shows no interest in catching up over lost time. Instead, the first conversation beyond the initial ‘interrogation’ was a business proposal.

“Work for me,” Aventurine commands, rather than asking. It didn’t matter that Veritas expressed immediate refusal. Not when Aventurine, cunning and wicked, immediately recalls Veritas’ scope of work. Past, present and future projects and the people they concerned. Plagiarism or theft of his work could never have unnerved him. But Aventurine’s exclusive knowledge, memories, of what Veritas held close to his heart and the vague ultimatum of his hypothetical refusal cast him in a difficult spot.

The suggestion… No, the threat immediately seeps under Veritas skin. He isn’t made to give an answer immediately, perhaps on purpose. In his own time, his convoluted train of thought is led by a biased heart. Putting his work and the product of it aside, could Aventurine still see him as Veritas beyond the mantle of a good doctor? Frankly, Veritas sees no value in his prowess that Aventurine couldn’t already obtain. With his claws sunk deep into the grounds of Veritas’ livelihood, he could have reproduced his most confidential findings for his own benefit.

Stonehearts, conniving and profit-driven, are known to make their rounds to corner merchants and shop owners into receiving their ‘protection’. Those paying for the blessing are able to operate freely under the shackles of monetary obligation while those without it happen to be preyed on by thugs and vandalism. Unsurprisingly, local law enforcement always seems to lag behind.

What Aventurine is asking for may not be money… but he might still be offering the same result. The value of working for him as opposed under his authority weighs drastically differently upon the scale of Veritas’ safety. In this perspective, Veritas understands his approach. There’s a lot he’s sweeping under the rug and he isn’t pleased with it at all. On the assumption that Aventurine is forcing Veritas’ hand to pick the lesser between two evils, he’d ideally like to forge his own resolution. But he has yet to be able to do that, nor does he enjoy building things upon assumptions.

So today like any other day, Veritas smooths his clothes down when he hears footsteps approaching. He is miffed, he is irritated. But he still longs to see Aventurine all the same. Be it Kakavasha or the flamboyant peacock, Veritas needs at least something to soothe his concerns and find a way out of this. The grinding of metal after three knocks reveals the blonde Stoneheart behind the open door. Like the other day, he wheels in a tray of food.

“Good morning, doctor. How are you feeling today?” A savoury aroma immediately wafts into Veritas’ nose and he’s only stopped from relaxing when his gaze falls on the burly man behind Aventurine. His expression is stoic and a pair of sleek sunglasses obscures his eyes. A gun is casually clutched in his hand and Veritas can’t help but stiffen.

“You’re dismissed. Link up with the team on avenue four,” Aventurine calmly directs. The henchman himself took a moment to answer but his expression remained steeled. A quick ‘yes sir’ and the pocketing of his gun is all that’s done before the man disappears down the hallway. Aventurine only turns back to grin at Veritas once the man is out of earshot. Bright, dazzling, heart stopping. Veritas’ apprehension fizzles away. 

“For theatrics,” Aventurine giggles and shuts the door behind him. Graciously, he plates the food and cutlery onto the newly added dining table of the room. A relatively small table holding a rather grand meal is presented to Veritas. Platters of different meats, a gold rimmed bowl of soup and fresh salads fill the table and Veritas is almost impressed. I’m the one being served a meal now. There’s fondness in his eyes that he blinks away.

With the food settled and the tray moved out of the way, Aventurine beckons Veritas over. He pulls the chair back, using gentle hands gliding on the taller man’s shoulder to lower himself into his seat. He even goes as far as to lay a napkin on Veritas’ lap and the latter does not miss the way Aventurine’s touches linger on him. Gloved finger tips dance along the fibres of his clothes, tracing the seam of his outer thigh and hovering over his biceps.

This is… unnatural. “Kaka-” he tries calling that name again. The fingers ghosting his body press against Veritas’ lip. Shh, Aventurine slightly puckers his lips. Veritas isn’t amused at all. He must address what Aventurine is very obviously doing. Though he doesn’t get the chance to. The furrow of his brows is followed by Aventurine sauntering away, planting himself on the seat across Veritas. Dramatically, he sighs.

“The other Stonehearts are on my ass for your disappearance," he pouts. So he isn’t starting with business talk today.

“This is a problem you’ve brought onto yourself, no? All for a reason you continue dancing around.” Maybe today, he’ll get something more substantial out of Aventurine. Half his attention scans the food on the table while the other half falls on the young man whining. He does not know if Aventurine frequently whines. But Kakavasha has always had a habit of doing that.

Sighing again, Aventurine leans forwards onto the table. It’s all on purpose, Veritas notices. From the two blouse buttons undone to the half-lidded eyes, Aventurine is… he’d rather not say. “Doctor,” he tilts his head. “You’re meant to comfort someone when they’re upset, aren’t you? Don’t you have patients who need your comfort all the time?”

In the back of his mind, Veritas sees a young teen awkwardly stumbling towards him after he tripped on the way home. His lips had been chewed raw, holding back tears and not knowing what to do about the wound on his knee. Naturally, Veritas sought to wipe away the tears of his little chick. But that’s not who he sees now. It gets clearer by the minute — another very specific thing Aventurine wants out of him. More worryingly, Kakavasha wants it too.

“Ka-”

“And not to mention, I’m doing this for your own good too. I wouldn’t mind some thanks in return, you know.” As compared to his younger years, Aventurine’s eyes have gotten so much sharper. The once familiar, starry round eyes have evolved into naturally hooded, scrutinising eyes. Akin to a fox, they possess a slight slant and hones in on Veritas’ every move. Regardless, Veritas does not bother to hide his slight irritation. ‘For your own good’ is a terrible statement to make, even if the sentiment is something he practices himself.

“I believe I am already cooperating with you swimmingly.” The lack of escape attempts and the means of cordial conversation are more than enough for his situation. “That much should show my ‘gratitude’.” What he said is far from a humorous statement but Aventurine bursts into laughter either way. Now, he reaches for Veritas’ hand. The doctor hesitantly waits for his touch.

“You know I want more than that,” Aventurine lowers his voice, fingers tangling with Veritas’ own digits. The back of Veritas’ neck reddens. He truly can’t let this go on. The route Aventurine tries to forge isn’t right. It’s not how he wants to rekindle what they had. Thankfully, Veritas is no stranger to prodding against topics Kakavasha tries to avoid. He’s been cut off several times in the past week when he tried. Never harsh, but always hopping over to the next topic. Not today.

Putting on the airs of sudden exhaustion, Veritas places his hand over Kakavasha’s instead. As always, the latter’s lithe hands are dwarfed by his. Sighing, he challenges the younger man with a look. “You’ve always been greedy for praise and validation.” The touch alone stops Aventurine in his tracks and for a moment, his round starry eyes come through. Rising from his seat, Veritas confirms a thought he had. 

“Not to mention, you still remember the food I like to eat. Lamb souvlaki, Avegolemono…” The weather is cold and neither the dolmades in the soup nor the tomatoes in the salad are in season. “You must have imported some ingredients specifically for me. Or would that be too presumptive?” For his own amusement, he pricks a small wedge of tomato from the salad with a fork and guides it to Kakavasha’s lips. The young man frowns at Veritas’ gentle smile. As expected, he refuses to eat the fruit. Kakavasha has never been too fond of either ingredient, tomatoes especially. On its own, the taste was always too sour for him. “An educated guess would suggest that the food has been poisoned, or that you still refuse to eat tomatoes.”

“It’s poisoned,” Kakavasha pouts. The apples of his cheeks are visible again and Veritas’ heart soars. 

“Sure,” Veritas chuckles this time, eating the tomato wedge instead. He returns to his seat, finally beginning his lunch and not minding how Kakavasha watches him. The meal is a quiet affair, likely due to the older man’s direct reference to simpler days. Something so mundane yet personal tips Kakavasha into deep thought and Veritas would be more than happy to discuss them. He truly couldn’t help but share what was on his mind.

“...It’s almost like you never left,” Ratio starts. He doesn’t get interrupted this time. “Carissimus, not once did I ever get used to making a portion for one. I missed how you’d try to spook me in the study and how you insisted on practicing your penmanship with fountain pens rather than a simple pencil. You loved to wear my coats, pretending to be all grown up even though the coats were practically draping against the floor.”

Kakavasha has always been rather little. He’d fit right into Veritas’ arms on stormy nights and the older man would hug him tight, back against the window as thunder roared. Kakavasha must be thinking of the past too if his averted gaze and pursed lips were anything to go by. It becomes awfully quiet in the room they’re in. Brick walls and a thick door muffle any sound from coming through and the single window always remains shut. It’s quiet, a little suffocating, but Veritas has grown accustomed to it.

Silence from Kakavasha means more than the vague chatter he has spouted in the past week Veritas has been here. It swells with the weight of consideration and Veritas has finally managed to get them on the same page. His heart steadily thumps in his chest, hoping Kakavasha holds onto the olive branch extended to him. They’ll get somewhere if they simply talked this out. Years of separation, days of confinement, a fateful argument hinged on vast differences — none of that would matter anymore if they simply took the time to unpick the knots in the thread holding them together.

But Kakavasha has always been a wildcard. He always knew how to be one. Veritas’ reminiscence of the past did stop him in his tracks, but it greatly reminded Kakavasha where he’s always been stuck. In Veritas’ eyes and in the way he used to weave praises of him in casual chats with past neighbours, he had always been his little star. Always a little cub that stuck by his side but never someone beyond that. The soft anticipation in Veritas eyes only confirms it more. If the doctor could, Kakavasha is sure he would have stopped at nothing to preserve his innocence. His sweet daughter, too good and pure for anyone to touch.

“Sleep with me,” Kakavasha breaks the silence. The beautiful tapestry of stained glass, one illustrating their once pure bond, shatters in Veritas’ mind. There’s a million things flashing in Veritas’ mind in an instant. The pit he’d been ignoring in his stomach has become unignorable now and it’s eating him inside out.

“What…?” Veritas utters. There is no way to back out of this now. No where to run, no way to stop the boulder that’s rolling down the hill.

“Did you really think playing house would last forever, Papa?” Aventurine’s wry smile is back. He’s never called Veritas that. But the dumbfounded look on Veritas' face is worth every bit of aversion it took Aventurine to say that. He rises from his seat, placing his hand back on Veritas’ own and clenches the instant he feels the older man try to snatch his arm away.

“Kakavasha,” Veritas’ voice is much more stern this time. He’s still trying to pull his hand away but he just can’t put his full strength into it. “Don’t be ridiculous. You don’t want this.”

Wrong answer — Aventurine barks out a laugh. His other hand rests on the backrest of Veritas’ chair and he leans in, knowing full well Veritas doesn’t have it in him to shove him away. “A good father should discipline his daughter if she’s done wrong, correct? I’ve drugged you, kidnapped you. Yet you still refuse to see me as anything more than a child or even punish me for being a bad boy.” Aventurine’s nails scrape the back of Veritas’ neck through his gloves. He wants to sink his nails deeper into his skin. “And don’t you dare tell me what I want. You have no idea just how badly I’ve waited to get you here, at my mercy.”

“I’m not… your father,” Veritas stammers. No, of course he isn’t. But he’s definitely seen himself as such despite what he claims. “And I do not take kindly to such jokes.” 

“Oh, then let it be known that I’m dead serious. Of course you aren’t my legal father, and I’ve never viewed you as such either. But Veritas… You’d be dense to think my gaze towards you remained pure all those years? I mean, what teenage girl would crawl into bed with her daddy?” Aventurine rolls his eyes and bites his lips when another thought forms. “Or maybe you were my daddy, just not the one you expected~”

Enough is enough. Veritas has heard enough for his face to burn and desperately needs some space lest he passes out from shock. How dare Aventurine paint such a sordid picture of his Kakavasha. The dissonance between the crude Stoneheart and his little gem has grown wide enough for Veritas to swing his arm towards the younger man’s chest to knock him off his person. But his aggression is met with stone cold efficiency where his arm is swung out of the way. One arm is restrained in the air and the other doesn’t get a chance to move the moment he feels something cold poking his jugular.

The fork he was using to feed Kakavasha is now at his neck, pressing into his throat and gradually worsening in pressure. “Behave,” Aventurine murmurs slowly. “Remember now. I took you in not just as a form of protection or claim from the rest. You’ve deluded yourself enough to disregard that I want you, dear doctor. And what better way to court you than to monopolise your attention like this?” A sick glint is clear with the way Aventurine’s pupils dilate. Veritas sees himself in them, fully aware how distressed he must appear to the young man.

But the sight irks him. Why should he be the one with the short end of the stick? Kakavasha is right, he has been too soft. Using his free hand, he dislodges Aventurine’s weapon of choice from digging into his jugular and jerks the other to throw him off balance. Veritas seizes the brief second of freedom he gets to bolt to his feet, storming forward to back Aventurine against the wall. “You want my attention? What would be enough for you? To centre years around making sure you were rehabilitated from malnourishment from the slums? To give you anything a teenager could ask for at that age and more?”

The hand that grabs Aventurine’s chin is rough, and the upward motion to make sure they’re seeing each other in the eye is abrupt. “There has been no instance of disregarding anything. I would have continued giving you everything you wanted. I would have continued holding back on saying anything despite your ludicrous stunts and behaviour. I chose to believe you had good intentions because that was who I understood you as… But in case you’ve forgotten, you made the choice to extract yourself from what could have been a peaceful life.”

Veritas’ voice is shaking. Kakavasha’s eyebrows are upturned. The young man simply couldn’t find words to say in return. That’s fine — Veritas still has more to say. “You left. You removed us from each other’s lives and left me in agony. You may think all is well with this reunion but you have no idea just how badly I am taking this. I never tried moving on, I never stopped looking for you. I tormented myself into accepting you didn’t want me in your life anymore.”

The doctor heaved, sobs so close to prickling his voice and his mouth wrenching itself into an ugly shape. He releases Kakavasha’s face, not wanting to look at him for much longer. “So I went on with life, as close as it was to how it was before you. I had a job, goals to achieve, a city to fix one problem at a time. And frankly,” venom seeps into his voice. “You ruined my plans in favour of yours. I would have been fine in my lonesome, as I have in the past eight years. Dragging me deeper into the Stonehearts’ cross hairs has been nothing but a selfish robbery for your own benefit.” The last few words are spat acidly, but Veritas means every bit of it.

Bitter tension settles within the four corners of the room, cinching around their ankles to keep them rooted in place. Aventurine has woven his mask back into an unreadable smile, not too wide but his bottom lip is bitten between gnashing teeth. He leans back against the wall, one hand adjusting his clothes while the other goes behind his back. It’s hard to tell what he has planned next with his clothes obscuring his movements.

A few seconds later, Aventurine takes the hand from behind his back and retrieves something from the inner pocket of his coat. An unassuming envelope. He sets it on the dining table next to the food that’s gone cold. “We have yet to see eye to eye, I guess. That’s a shame.” He paces past Veritas towards the door, stopping as he places his hand on the handle.

“As much as you have been ignoring my proposals in the past week, I still want something very specific out of you. In the envelope is a brief detailing the deliverables a client of mine requested. The revolver is a good friend of many, but prone to mishaps and terrible aches upon firing. Dear doctor, I am more than sure you’ll be able to rectify that, hm? One problem at a time.” Aventurine smiles at Veritas’ eye twitching.

“And what if I choose not to?”

“Just as you have been gentle on me, I have returned the gesture to you. But just as you’re capable of a tongue lashing, so am I. And you won’t believe how much my tongue is capable of~”

Veritas’ world expands in the coming days. When he’s not in his bedroom, he’s blindfolded and brought to another room by Aventurine and a few of his subordinates. A workshop to work on the brief he received. Here, his work is heavily supervised. At no point in time would there be less than two guards keeping an eye on him as if the shackles on his wrists and ankles weren’t enough. There isn’t a violent consequence if Veritas chooses not to work on his assignment. But there is one worse than that.

When Veritas is returned to his cell later in the evening, he is more than famished. His stomach growls for sustenance and is more than happy when a warm meal awaits him on the dining table. Though off to the side, Aventurine leans against the study desk. He serenely smiles. Ignoring Aventurine’s presence isn’t pleasant, but it’s doable. Further into his meal, Veritas realises why Aventurine had not bothered him. At some point in eating, his body had begun to heat up. His vision grows blurry and the edges of his mind begin to fuzz.

“You don’t look so well, doctor. Would you like to lie down? Or would a nice warm shower make you feel better?” Aventurine feigns innocence. How ironic, his intentions are the exact opposite. He approaches Veritas at the dining table, sliding the tips of his fingers across the sweat gathered on the older man’s neck. “I’m no doctor, but I could make you feel so much better.”

That becomes the pattern for the coming days, where Aventurine’s indulgence of skin upon skin is inversely proportional to how much progress Veritas makes. The doctor never knows which dish of his had been spiked and the ghostly touch of lips trailing against his weakened body ignites something so maddening in him. He wants to recoil, he’s playing right into Aventurine’s hands, he’s being played like a fool. Fury should be second nature by now but more so than his body, his heart has always been weak when it comes to Kakavasha.

There are days when Kakavasha does not show up. Veritas would eat alone, undisturbed, even if he had not made much progress that day. Though in the wee hours of the morning after a couple days of his absence, Kakavasha enters Veritas’ cell. In the dim light emitted by a single lamp, the blood splatters on his face are apparent. There’s no clear indication of how much more there is on his suit. “Kakavasha!” Veritas jolts out of bed.

But he’s promptly pushed back into bed, forced to lay down as Kakavasha rests his head on Veritas’ chest. All is quiet and Kakavasha doesn’t seem to have fatal wounds if his calm breathing is anything to go by. “There were people after you today, too. Troublesome bunch.” That’s all Aventurine says. He takes Veritas’ arm and nuzzles against it, careful not to leave any bloodstains on the other man. Veritas doesn’t ask any questions, he doesn’t think he’s allowed to. Still, his other hand rubs soothing circles on Kakavasha’s side. He’s glad the young man has returned after days of absence.

“I wanna go home.” A voice that’s barely audible even in pin-drop silence is uttered into existence. “I miss your room, I miss the kitchen, I want to dance in the garden again. I’m tired.” It’s a confession so fragile sounding that weighs the most on Veritas. It hits him too. He’s tired and misses everything that no longer is.

“Okay,” Veritas hugs tightly onto Kakavasha, turning them on their side and cradling him impossibly close. “Let’s go home then. You and me, just us and how everything used to be.” It’s all Veritas has ever wanted. He tries scooting himself to eye level with Kakavasha but he isn’t allowed to. That’s fine. Instead, he peppers kisses on the blond’s hair and rubs his back till slumber envelopes him once again.

Kakavasha sticks close to Veritas as they exit the market. It’s always crowded before sunset. Families buying food for dinner, office workers rushing home, children running about. It’s a happy scene and Kakavasha is happy, but she’s also weary. “Ignore them,” Veritas tells her without peeling his eyes away from the basket of fruits he was inspecting. “They’d be stupid to create a scene with this big of an audience.”

So Kakavasha begrudgingly looks away, protectively looping her arm around the old man’s own. She hates how the local mob, the Stonehearts’ henchmen, stares at Veritas. She stares at him a lot too, but not out of contempt like them. They look at him to see what they can take. A doctor, engineer, philosopher, the list goes on. Veritas is a brilliant man whose talents garner the greed of people who intend to bring him harm.

When the two are back home, Veritas makes sure to tell Kakavasha something very important over dinner. “Don’t do anything rash, my dear. You want to fight them, I know. But directly engaging with them will only bring us more danger.” Words fall on deaf ears, unfortunately, as Kakavasha one day returns home with bruises and swells that would horrify the doctor. The situation was painfully simple: some low ranking henchmen were messing with shop owners, Kakavasha stepped in, handled it fine until they brought Veritas’ safety up.

“So you got careless but left them in a worse state… So? What comes next, more eyes on you? On us? Kakavasha,” Veritas’ voice is shaking. “You have no reason to be putting yourself in danger for something so trivial.”

“It’s not trivial! How long until those mobs come harassing you? Don’t think I don’t already know they’re already snooping closer to our house… I hear them outside at night… And you’re doing nothing to fend them off!”

“I’m ‘doing nothing’ to keep you safe!” Veritas raises his voice. He has never shouted at the young lady before. A lump immediately forms in Kakavasha’s throat. She balls her fists past where Veritas can see below the table. Then, she says something quietly.

“What’s the point of being safe if you aren’t?”

The house becomes quieter from that day. Conversations are kept to a minimum, the men sneaking around outside their house increase in frequency. One night, Veritas rushes to the living room when he hears rustling. To his surprise, it’s Kakavasha. Then dread starts to sink in. He sees  a haversack slung onto her back and clothes that suggest a long trip ahead.

The rest of the night goes on gratingly. A plea that loses its patience, an argument that bursts from the seams of barely-there peacekeeping. Veritas didn’t stop her when she ran out the house.  A poignant vexation kept him rooted in place, waiting to see when she’ll learn her lesson. But by morning, Veritas wept.

Aventurine leaves like nothing happened after Veritas fell back asleep. The next day’s schedule is back to normal — breakfast, project development, getting propositioned. Aventurine behaves like the previous night didn’t happen and Veritas only just starts to wonder if this young man is terrible at the act of ‘courting’ someone. He tells Aventurine that as the younger man had straddled him in bed. Their crotches are nearly touching. Veritas, experiencing the regular after-dinner side effects, does what he can to inch away.

Aventurine laughs at Veritas’ statement and eventually backs off once he feels he’s sucked the hot skin of Veritas’ neck enough. Once again, he disappears for a few days after that. Veritas skin itches, longing and conflicted. He doesn’t feel too compelled to work on developing the revolver. Drafts of conceptual components and physical mock-ups turn to sketches of his and Kakavasha’s home and flowers are wrought from small metal sheets. The guards monitoring Veritas may bark orders to focus on his work, but they’ve never dared to put the gun in their hands to use nor step too close to him.

The next time Kakavasha shows himself, it’s the same time, same setting. He appears in Veritas’ cell in the stillness of night, covered in blood but this time presenting a big bouquet of roses. There’s much more blood this time and there’s even a couple injuries on Aventurine that require treatment. But the Stoneheart does not let the doctor patch him up. Instead, he hugs Veritas tight. “You’re going to get us into a lot of trouble,” he whispers, clutching the roses behind his back. Veritas… doesn’t quite understand. He could say the same to Kakavasha. Yet a sense of foreboding rises in his chest. Though in that moment, he chucks the feeling aside. He wraps his arms around Kakavasha, giving in to the intimacy of watching him shower in the adjacent bathroom when Kakavasha drags him along.

Veritas will always give in. It’s what he’s noticed about himself. Whether or not he wants to, he ‘has’ to. His resistance to the intimacy Kakavasha wants has been picked at its edges and Veritas wonders how much of it is left as he watches the blonde rinse blood off Kakavasha's bare body under running water. Beautiful skin, though scarred, magnetises Veritas’ eyes to the slight curves of his body. His ribs poke slightly at his torso and his thighs could afford to fill up more.

Carissimus, his mind supplies. Let me take care of you again. Veritas would make sure to fill Kakavasha up nicely. He’ll make up for all the time apart. He can’t not feel that way, despite everything, not when Kakavasha is finally back in his arms. The young man stands before him once he’s washed himself off and reaches for Veritas’ hands to glide along his torso. “Won’t you do it with me today?” A soft voice asks. 

Veritas shakes his head. “That was never an option on the table.” He tries not to stare too hard at the body presented to him. Kakavasha might as well wrap himself up with a red bow and a gift tag with Veritas’ name on it. The young man tries to straddle him but Veritas blocks his advances. Uncaring if his own clothes get wet, he stands and loops an arm around Kakavasha to press their torsos together. He’s warm, the older man feels their heat coming together. That’s good. He’s missed this.

Veritas retrieves and wraps a towel around Kakavasha. He swats away the hand that tries to tug at his pants and it becomes a game of cat and mouse where Kakavasha skips back into the main bedroom with just a towel before Veritas can dry his hair. The young man only lets him lay hands on him right as they’re by the bed, convenient enough for Kakavasha to ‘trip’ and pull Veritas into bed with him.

The towel has slipped away and Veritas has an unobstructed view of Kakavasha’s bare body. Pretty, comparatively petite, calling for him. Veritas must be going mad. He keeps having dangerous, destructive thoughts that eat away at reason. His hands stay braced at either side of Kakavasha’s head, staring up and down all while Kakavasha gives him a smile so welcoming. Against better judgement, one hand twitches into movement. Kneeling over him, Veritas’ hand pats his head and runs his fingers through the golden strands. Then his hands travel to his cheek, caressing and letting his thumb brush over the apples of Kakavasha’s cheeks. 

Just a little more, Veritas tells himself. His hand meets Kakavasha’s as he glides down his neck, guiding him to rest his palm over the small mound of the young man’s chest. The older man feels it — the soft, velvety skin of Kakavasha’s nipple. Should he apply more pleasure, perhaps by rubbing or groping, the cute little perks will harden into berries ripe for Veritas to taste. “Doctor~ Please,” Kakavasha calls from under him. He’s laid himself out for the taking, accepting anything Veritas would want to do to him.

…

Anything… also includes nothing. Veritas can’t do this to his dearest. He retracts both hands, leaning back up and rubbing his face to pull himself together. “We can’t do this,” Veritas whispers. Not like this, not when nothing has been solved. He paces, stumbles, over to the dining chair and keels over with his face buried in his hands. “This is not right.”

“What’s not right? Why?” Kakavasha immediately gets up. He’s not pleased either. “Is the thought of taking me so repulsive to you? Or is committing to me in clear judgement something you don’t want accountability for?” The Stoneheart immediately wraps the towel around himself and it doesn’t help in making his figure any bigger. Veritas’ lack of response only aggravates him more. “You only want me when-” Though just as a scolding is on the tip of his tongue, he stops himself. The towel drops and Veritas braces for something. But nothing happens.

Kakavasha walks back to the bathroom, redressing himself in the bloodied clothes from before. The injuries, which Veritas only just remembers again, are still there. They need to be clean but are redressed in soiled clothing. “You won’t listen to me, right…” Kakavasha nonchalantly comments as he walks back into the room. He pulls his gloves back on, adjusting his rings. “Anyways,” the grins he shoots Veritas isn’t natural. “I hope you’ve made enough progress on the little assignment I’ve given you. We’ve got a big day ahead of us.”

Aventurine leaves with no further explanation. He doesn’t care for what Veritas would have to say, or if he doesn’t want to participate. If words and gentle acts won’t get through to him, a heavy hand definitely will. The coming morning is the last time Veritas gets to work on the model. It’s a prototype at best, something he worked on to keep himself from wasting the days away. It lacks refinement, but only because he thought it would guarantee Kakavasha staying with him through the night.

By the evening, Veritas is dressed in a suit tailor made for him. Dark navy with gold accents and a shiny teal lapel that’s pinned onto his breast pocket. It’s Aventurine’s claim on him. A matching lapel is pinned onto his own breast pocket but unlike Veritas’ he chooses to wear nothing under his outer suit. Delicate gold chains against bare skin catches Veritas’ eyes, but he’s more peeved by what Aventurine says next. “We’ll be meeting the client who requested this brief. He’s provided all the materials thus far and is paying a rather handsome amount, so I do hope you’ll behave. I’ve been nice enough to let you walk freely like this but…” He narrows his eyes towards Veritas’ ankles. “One step too far from me and you’ll never get to walk freely again, ‘mkay?”

They’re in the car now, in the backseat as an unremarkable henchman drives them to their location. “I didn’t polish the final deliverable,” Veritas states.

“That much is obvious,” Aventurine glances over.

“Then why bother bringing me?” That gets Aventurine to smile.

“I’ve made the client wait long enough. Too long would only make him more impatient and the effects of that are something I don’t need on my plate. If the main form of reimbursement doesn’t come through… Then I’m not opposed to other forms of transaction. Luckily for me, this guy is rather fond of me.” Veritas despises the thought of that.

The meeting begins. They’re brought deep into an old shophouse, through several hallways and flights of stairs that brings them to a room with no windows. Veritas has truly gotten enough of that lately. He keenly watches Aventurine sitting down before a man who seems closer to his own age. A mostly black, peppery beard pokes at his chin, scars that are visible past the collar of his blouse and an immediate leer toward Aventurine that makes Veritas twitch.

“Mr Aventurine!” The middle aged man signals for his men to close the door behind them. He sits across the Stoneheart on a lavish couch, taking note of Veritas but focusing his sights on the blond. “I was beginning to think you bled me dry for nothing in return.” They sat across each other on lavish sofas with Veritas standing behind Aventurine. Double Indemnity’s henchmen had exited the room, likely standing in the hallway or guarding the perimeter.

“Don’t make me entertain the thought of that, Mr Erwin,” Aventurine chuckles, not reaching for the glass of whiskey placed on his side of the table. “When I make a promise, I deliver. Though I admit I have dragged the deadline for far too long. I apologise, and so does the good doctor behind me.”

“So you really did manage to get the esteemed Doctor Ratio on your side… Ha! As expected of Double Indemnity’s prowess. I hear he’s been a difficult one to catch. Though if you’ve brought him here… perhaps you’re willing to lend him to me? You know I’m able to pay a pretty penny.” The gruff in his voice could make Veritas hurl. Never mind the hypothetical exchange beyond his consent. Is this the people Kakavasha has to deal with on the regular?

“Oh, definitely not. I couldn’t trouble you like that, Mr Erwin. Though great and renowned as he is, he is incredibly difficult to work with. You won’t imagine the nagging and strong suggestions I had to continuously dish out to get him to produce even a mock-up. A stubborn one, really.” Aventurine doesn’t look back at him, though Veritas is sure the younger man is aware of his glare. He still doesn’t know what they’re getting at and his eyes flicker to the mock-up presented on the table. It’s crude at best. Effective in theory though the physical product needs additional industrial tools for fine tuning. 

“Mm…” Erwin hums. His eyes briefly flicker to his two subordinates behind him, then back at the mock-up on the table that he doesn’t bother picking up. “Then if I may be so bold, I’d say this isn’t typical of you, Mr Aventurine. You’re no doubt a sight for sore eyes but I hope you didn’t think showing your pretty face and bringing along the illustrious doctor would be a suitable apology? Remember, the product of our collaboration would be of great benefit to you amongst the Stonehearts too. We both know how much you’ve had to kneel and grovel to get where you are.”

Kneel and grovel… Exactly what does he mean by that? Veritas has no clue how Kakavasha got to where he is in the past eight years. He doesn’t know what he went through and the two words he’s hearing already makes him sick. Aventurine on the other hand, seems completely unfazed. In fact, he giggles again and takes a swig of whiskey. The amber liquid drips down his chin and it captures the attention of Erwin. His legs twitch, thighs shifting.

“Of course we do. And I’m sure we both know how I’m not one to let my distinguished clients down.” Aventurine gracefully stands and unbuttons his coat. The sight must be breathtaking, Veritas would know. The lithe body, his soft chest, the gold chains resting on his skin. Veritas wishes he didn’t shy away. And it’s exactly why he hates that he isn’t the one who gets a view of this. He sees Aventurine’s clothed back and the ogling face Mr Erwin and his henchmen make. Turn around! Veritas wants to say aloud.

“Hence why I’ve brought one more thing to satiate your appetite for now,” purrs Aventurine. He shrugs off the coat, sauntering over to present himself to Erwin. He takes hold of the man’s shaking hands, guiding them to rest on his little waist. Veritas is biting his lips hard enough to taste blood now but his fury goes ignored. All attention is on Aventurine and how he’s tantalising Erwin. Offering himself as a piece of compensation. “I should have taken your suggestion from all those months ago. Getting to know each other is the key for a more amicable relationship, hm?”

The guffaw barrelling from Erwin’s throat is indicative of his desires and arrogance. A quick off-handed flick gestures his henchmen out of the room and he arches his brow when Veritas doesn’t immediately do the same. “Oi, a little privacy-”

“Shh,” Aventurine presses his index finger on Erwin’s lips. He crawls onto the man’s lap, running his hands along his jaw before manoeuvring himself to rest his back against Erwin’s chest. He pulls Erwin’s arms to wrap around his waist, wiggling his hips to remind them of the position they’re in. “Having an audience makes it a little more exciting, doesn’t it? And maybe this stiff-necked doctor will realise how serious we are if he watches us.”

Finally, Aventurine looks back at Veritas. Cold, hooded eyes as he spreads his legs for Erwin’s hands to explore. The blood in the doctor’s body has run cold and each passing second feels like a new time he has to experience excruciating death. The display of Aventurine barring his neck for Erwin to kiss is a needle jabbed in Veritas’ eye. He wants nothing more than to rip them apart but the look in Aventurine’s eyes forces him still.

“Mr Erwin,” Aventurine fakes a moan. “I know this may be hard to believe, but you’ll be the one to take my virginity~ Doesn’t that make me more valuable?” Except Aventurine’s eyes are still pinned on Veritas, carefully etching into his mind each pained expression he makes at the confession. The button of his pants are undone, a hand palms around his cunt to feel the chubby flesh beneath. The snigger Erwin huffs into Aventurine’s ear sends chills down his spine, but the roll of his hips against the larger man’s erection poking his butt encourages the gangster to continue exploring.

“Mm? I wouldn’t have guessed so,” Erwin’s ring and middle finger have found purchase right on Aventurine’s clothed pussy, rubbing against the folds with glee knowing the Stoneheart truly does have a blossom for him to deflower. “After all, you’ve always used your body as an asset. So tell me darling, how do I know you’re not lying to me?”

Veritas breathing gets loud. His jaw can’t stop shaking with every breath. He leans forward with an arm out.

“That’s when you get creative, sir~ There are many means of persuasion. A touch, a rub, a kiss, a blow. So many ways to have fun.” Each idea is punctuated by an action to deliver his point. His flesh wants to pull away from his skin but backing down from a performance has never been his style. Not when he’s getting such a reaction out of his dearest audience. “I’ve always wanted to save myself for someone special… But if you really think I’m lying, why don’t you take a look? I promise you’ll like what you see. This will be proof of our partnership.”

Erwin heeds the sensual words of encouragement. He takes hold of his new possession. One hand cups Aventurine’s breast, squeezing the soft flesh and the other hand gingerly sneaks its way down Aventurine’s lacy panties. The instinctual jolt Aventurine makes is one of sheer nausea, yet he masks it with a forced buck against Erwin’s hand. Just a little more. A little more until Veritas gets the messa- 

Aventurine looks back at Veritas. He hadn’t noticed when he had taken the gun and pointed it at him. 

Eh? Aventurine… did not expect this. The cylinder is supposed to be empty but the glisten of the chamber that rotates into place suggests otherwise.

Boom. Veritas pulls the trigger. Kakavasha squeezes his eyes shut as he braces for impact. The bullet hits and something absorbs the impact. Moments pass… that something wasn’t Aventurine. There’s a warm wetness he feels on the side of his head, dripping down onto his neck. His heart thunders in his chest and the tremble that takes over him spikes when he realises what had happened.

Aventurine is sitting on a dead man’s lap, a chunk of his head exploded into bits and his hand is still down his pants. Red… So red and- Veritas storms over. He yanks Aventurine from the dead man, eyes immediately darting to the door where Erwin’s henchmen are calling for him. They don’t have time. But Veritas still can’t help but glare at Kakavasha again. The revolver has been dropped and Veritas grabs Kakavasha by the head, both hands cradling his skull and nails dig into his temporal bones.

“What were you thinking?” Veritas hisses. “You… you…!” He glances back down at Erwin’s lifeless body again. His pupils constrict and Kakavasha reckons the doctor does not kill anyone this brutally often, or ever. “How far were you going to go to hurt-”

“Mr Erwin! Sir, please answer us!” The door rattles against the frames. Each vibration gets bigger and louder with no answer returned. The door isn’t locked and the way out gives the two no cover to dodge any projectiles.

“Fuck…” Veritas curses. “Fuck, fuck-” He had acted on impulse. Way out of character and unbefitting for someone who prides himself on logic. He looks back down at Aventurine, composure already gathered and looking up at him with anticipation.

“Sooo? What’s your brilliant plan now, Veritas? You’ve killed for me, but will you take responsibility for what comes after?” The doctor doesn’t bother answering. He grabs Kakavasha by the hand and snatches the discarded coat on the sofa. When one door is yanked open, another one bursts behind them. Edwin’s tardy henchmen finally come through, aghast at the grizzly sight of red that immediately greets them.

“They got boss! Lock down the building!” one bellows. Amidst increasingly distant shouting and rapidly approaching footsteps, Veritas can only hear Kakavasha’s laughter as they run through the winding hallways of the shophouse. Aventurine’s henchmen… where are they! Veritas has spotted none of them in their sprint to the exit. Forget it, Veritas only cares for Kakavasha’s safety. They’re dodging bullets aimed at them, doglegging the moment they spot a new gangster appear in their sight.

They might have circled the same floor twice now but Veritas doesn’t stop running, deciding that even a standstill moment could cost Kakavasha’s life. “Take the next stairs down and the third door on your left will be our exit,” Aventurine finally speaks up. Veritas glares at him again and Kakavasha sticks out his tongue. True enough, just as more gangsters were closing in on them, Aventurine takes the lead and bursts through the door.

“Barricade! Now!” Aventurine sternly orders. The subordinates from before suddenly appear on their flanks, slamming the door shut and obstructing the exit with a large object. Veritas can’t even process what that is. 

“Status?” Aventurine asks next. They’re still running, dashing away from the building.

“All exits are blocked. Ada and team are positioned on surrounding rooftops. Do we proceed?” The subordinate herself seems unsure but Aventurine happily nods.

“Continue once we reach the cars. The doctor and I will take our own. You and the others take the other two.” The car in question is just up ahead and Aventurine abruptly stops Veritas from yanking open the car door. “Doctor,” Aventurine’s breath is calm as compared to Veritas’ panting. “Would you like to see something beautiful?” Once again, Veritas doesn’t get to reply. 

“Boom,” Kakavasha whispers.

Gunshots go off in the distance and in the next second, a catastrophically loud blast resounds just a yard away. The building they were just in spontaneously combusts, glass shattering outwards and fire raining down. The two are bathed in orange light as flames roar in their hungry conquest to devour. The gangsters that were chasing them… The people that came barrelling into that windowless room… The insipid degenerate who sullied his Kakavasha… all of them are trapped in a box of hell that does not discriminate. All of them are gone. 

Veritas feels his throat tighten, the corners of his lips tug upwards and wetness beads at his eyes. The scent of sulphur is thick in the air and a silhouette is outlined in the glowing chaos. Aventurine — Kakavasha… grins with what Veritas can only describe as elation in his eyes. Magenta and cyan form crescents, the whites of Kakavasha’s eyes no longer present as his sick glee takes over. The young man needs not speak up. His wide grin is more than telling of how Veritas has fallen in Kakavasha’s trap once again.

Once again, Veritas has acted in accordance to how Kakavasha has expected minus a few minor hiccups. He’s being toyed with, used and played for a fool. But Veritas finally accepts it. He is a fool toyed around in his beloved’s palm. He accepts that and does what he needs to do. Take responsibility. He snatches the car keys Kakavasha fishes from his pocket and practically shoves the young man into the passenger seat. Starting the car, Veritas whizzes through the empty roads. The further they stray from the scene of the crime, the more they’re lulled back to the ground.

Aventurine or Kakavasha, he can’t say he regrets anything he did. All of it was meant to happen. All for a goal he’d dirty his hands to achieve. He peeks at Veritas from the corner of his eyes. The older man’s hands still clutch the steering wheel in a death grip. He’s breathing hard, maybe reeling from what’s happened. Aventurine supposes that’s normal. The doctor has always been a pacifist, even in the worst moments. As far as the Stoneheart knows, this could be the first life Veritas has taken.

Kakavasha recalls feeling something similar. Even before he was taken under Veritas’ roof or leading as a Stoneheart, death and its companions had long been a familiar theme in Kakavasha’s life. He doesn’t recall the face of the first life he took, but Veritas definitely will. Rage and defeat like that would linger in Veritas’ mind for a long time and Kakavasha is… glad. Yes, he’s happy Veritas felt so strongly for him. He’s giddy that Veritas killed for him. And so he can’t help but feel hot. Heat spreads from the fringes of his person and meets the blistering giddiness erupting from his core.

Veritas definitely wants him now, right? Now that he’s seen how Kakavasha’s body can make man feel so good, he’d finally give in and let himself feel, right? The blond may be covered in blood, dishevelled and have the lingering touch of another man. But if Veritas is taking him somewhere far away, it would be so that they’re all alone together, right? The excitement is starting to get unbearable for him. He shouldn’t hold out too much hope for this stubborn old man, but that doesn’t mean he can stop his thighs from clenching together.

“Were you telling the truth?” Veritas suddenly speaks up. They had been on the road for a while now. They’re straying away from the main city and heading in the direction of a familiar beaten route. “A-about your chastity… the ‘favours’... and… s-saving it for…” He dare not complete his sentence lest he swerves the car off the road. Is this the right thing to do? To fixate so much on this?

Kakavasha straightens in the passenger seat, eyes sparkling. “Is it hard to believe? That I didn’t just give it out because I wanted to save it for something special? Please, doctor. I’m not as much of a slut as you think I am.”

“That’s not what I said…” Veritas furrows his brows.

“But did you imagine it? Me, finding other ways to please geezers who are old as you without having to spread my legs for them? You’d know if you weren’t such a prude, but I’m really good with my mouth and hands. But those old perverts always get chummy and try to take more than I offer…” 

That strikes a nerve in Veritas. “What did they take?”

Kakavasha shrugs. His mood takes a sharp turn despite being the one to steer the conversation into this. He shrinks in his seat, looking out the window at the road he recognises. This foolish doctor… “Does it matter? Because it seems like you only care now that there’s other people who ‘got to me’ first.” Kakavasha has no reason to react like this, he knows. But it still feels unfair. Did it really take the knowledge that he’s vied for for Veritas to even consider him desirable?

“Has my value and appeal changed because other men saw it in me first?”

Veritas slams the breaks. The car violently halts, jerking forward and nearly throwing Kakavasha out of his seat. The land around them is dark and empty, and Veritas had not stopped driving for the better of an hour to throw off any potential tails. It isn’t a good idea to stop in their tracks, but an even worse idea is for Veritas to continue driving with anger boiling in him. He whips his head towards the younger man but the latter’s words belatedly hit him.

Is he simply outraged by Kakavasha’s safety being plunged in jeopardy, or is there something else he can’t bring himself to admit yet? His lips are parted to retaliate but a lump in his throat bars him from speech. The young man’s piercing gaze challenges him and renders him speechless. Kakavasha is hurt and Veritas needs to comfort him. He isn’t privy to specifics. The doctor has no concrete idea of exactly what happened in their time apart that brought Kakavasha to where he is now.

The jump from a ‘civilian’s daughter’ with all means for a normal life to a Stoneheart is an astounding jump and frankly, eight years is a subjectively short time to build himself an ivory throne with an unshakable rule. The same rule Veritas was trying to erase within town. Undeniably, Kakavasha has bested Veritas in many instances. It's a spectacular showcase of growth and Veritas could not be more proud. Though this climb to power has come with a cost.

“What’s the point of being safe if you aren’t?”

Veritas could never forget how pained yet scathing those words were to him. In hindsight, he wonders if their mutual efforts to protect each other had been futile. So much of what he has devoted himself to was to create a system where people like Kakavasha would be able to live without worrying for his safety. He cared little for the risks imposed on him and focused on what more he could do from afar to create a safer town for Kakavasha whom he hoped was somewhere out there.

Two hearts so irreversibly intertwined with each other could never untangle themselves. And Veritas would never hope to. He’s been staring at Kakavasha’s face this whole time and without realising, the space between his brows had creased into a sad tug on his facial muscles. A much needed inhale steadies him towards composure. He eases his step on the breaks, letting the car cruise to its intended destination.

“Carissimus,” Veritas softly calls. Kakavasha, who had resigned to looking out the window, perks up without looking back. The house is just up ahead and they’ll pull into the driveway very soon. “Value does not apply to what we have. You have always been worth more than all the earth’s riches combined. As much as you are a very frightening Stoneheart, you will always be my Kakavasha."

Which means I absolutely forbid anyone other than myself from laying hands on you. Veritas leaves that part unsaid for now.

"And you've worked hard to get what you want. Don't think I don't notice that." Veritas reaches out to place a tentative hand on Kakavasha's thigh. When isn't immediately shrugged away, he takes that as a sign to brush his fingers towards his inner thighs. "Though all work and no 'play' is probably why you are so terrible at courtship. Guilt tripping and coercion are horrible means of flirting…"

The remark immediately offends Kakavasha. He's tired, but not overtly so to not defend himself from a outrageous accusation. Though this time, he's played himself into Veritas' hand. The car slows into stillness and the whiplash turn of Kakavasha's head lands his cheek right into the older man's outstretch hand. Ah… The blond's quip is stuck in his mouth.

"Regardless, I think it's only fair that I return the effort." The softness in the doctor's voice isn't uncertainty. It's… something so unbelievable to Kakavasha. His eyes light up, but he can't get too ahead of himself again. He's not too sure if he'll ever be that desired in Veritas' eyes. Though even he doesn't get through to him on this night, he won't deny himself of comfort he's been aching for. He leans into Veritas' touch, involuntarily jutting his lower lip out. The blood on his face had dried by now and it's an unpleasant itchy feeling. He wants a bath. One he'll make Veritas watch again.

Petulance is a very cute look on Kakavasha and Veritas can't help the urge to poke a little bit more fun at him. Leaning in, he brushes his thumb against Kakavasha's cheekbone. "Is sulking befitting of a Stoneheart? I've always had the impression that Double Indemnity's leader is a little more… cunning."

"I am cunning," Kakavasha shoots back. "Who's to say this isn't an act to lower your guard? H-Hey, where are you going?" Kakavasha's cheeks are puffed as he watches Veritas exit the car. Though as he exits the car to chase after him, he momentarily stunned by the nostalgic sight. Even when it's cloaked in darkness, the house he grew up in — experienced the most love in — is as beautiful as he remembered it to be. Vines grow around the outer walls and the flora may be a little unkempt from weeks of absence, but every window pane and door remains intact. He would know. He's continuously dispatched his team to patrol the compound's perimeter.

"While that is a possibility, I would find it pertinent to entertain you before you brew up something more extreme than voyeurism and terrorism." Veritas is right by his side now, pinching the buttons of the outer vest shut to shield the young man from the cool evening winds. Kakavasha stops him. Maybe he won't be keeping his clothes on for too long anymore. He's been on a rollercoaster of emotions in the past two hours. Will Veritas pound him over a surface? Kakavasha is beginning to think that even being edged with the possibility of his virginity being taken would satisfy him. He's tugged towards the door, hastily pulled into the house after Veritas unlocks the entrance with a hidden spare key.

There's many things they should probably ask each other about the events that have unfolded, but both of them have begun to immerse themselves in something that would irreversibly change the trajectory of their lives. Kakavasha trails closely behind Veritas. He doesn't focus on the rooms he's been longing to return to. He instead skips in front of Veritas to stop him right before they enter the bedroom. Gloved fingers snake along Veritas' torso and upwards to his chest. Kakavasha keeps going until his hands dangle by Veritas' nape, pressing their bodies together. Veritas returns in kind, wrapping his fingers around Kakavasha's waist.

"But if doing something extreme is what it takes to get you to act faster, I'll really do it, you know?" What would drive the doctor insane? Tying him to a chair while he watches Kakavasha be eaten out? Or maybe letting another man fuck him in the ass would make Veritas go berserk. The possibilities are endless and Kakavasha gradually spread his legs so that something can occupy the space between them. Veritas' thighs fit perfectly. Big, meaty, but that's what makes the squish against his cunt good.

"Behave," Veritas squeezes his waist. His thumbs press against Kakavasha's cervix, further tipping him closer to insanity with no return. "You said it yourself right? That preserving your virginity makes its robbery all the more valuable. So be a good boy and keep yourself pure for a while longer. You can handle that much, hm?" His manhood is beginning to fill as it's smothered against the thigh that rubs against Kakavasha's nether regions. It's been a very long time since he's bed someone. Though its frequency and intensity from this day forth would likely skyrocket.

"Mmh," Kakavasha coyly tilts his head. He's unashamedly grinding his crotch on Veritas' thigh now and he feels something mouthwatering-ly big pressing against him. "That's no way to be speaking to your adoptive daughter, dear doctor." It does turn Kakavasha on that at one point, Veritas was his daddy. He'll abuse and milk that title as much as he can.

Veritas squints. His thumbs dig deeper into Kakavasha's flesh, moving to press directly on his bladder. He abhors the thought of being a fatherly figure who's become enough of a degenerate to sleep with his 'daughter'. Though the stronger the hate, the stronger the love. The guilty pleasure of indulging in something so sinful and taboo is exactly what Kakavasha needs to be punished. This brat needs to learn a lesson and finally realise that he's asking for more than he can handle. "Make up your mind. Do you want me to be my daughter or my partner?"

Kakavasha bites his lips. "Both." Veritas' cock twitches in his pants.

"Foul minx. Did I forget to teach you not to rely on perverse nonsense to win people over?"

"But it worked, right? I kidnapped you, imprisoned you, pushed myself onto you — and it eventually won you over. All while being your darling girl. And," Kakavasha lifts a leg to nudge Veritas' pelvis against his. His voice is breathy. There must be a damp spot on his panties by now. "And you, Veritas, must be one hell of a pervert to be turned on by all of this~"

Delightfully, Kakavasha hits a sore spot. He's lifted off the ground, yelping as he has to hold onto Veritas for support. He probably weighs like a feather to the older man and it makes for terribly perverse images in Kakavasha's head. A bedside lamp is switched on and he's immediately tossed into bed. The ravenous wolf immediately strips the little lamb off his pants, revealing the lacy black underwear Kakavasha had specially worn for this occasion. Milky legs immediately spread to accommodate Veritas in between them and it earns another scowl out of him.

The Stoneheart's suit no longer protects his modesty and a pair of puffy nipples on small mounds of flesh call out to Veritas. The delicate gold chains on his angel's torso reflect the dim light illuminating them and he's just so hungry. He's denied himself of this forbidden fruit for too long. Maybe tomorrow, he'll stop by the chapel. He'll walk up to the alter and genuflect. In his confession to God, he'll apologise for taking one of their angels for his own gratification. The gates of heaven would close upon the sight of him but that won't matter. He'll find paradise in the tight heat deep in Kakavasha's core.

"You're being way too easy for me," Veritas rasps. He makes quick work of discarding his outer suit and belt, lunging back to hold Kakavasha down by his neck. "You're a whore, eager to spread your legs for an old man like me. It's a miracle how you even managed to keep your chastity intact." His other hands run across Kakavasha's body and he wonders if this is how he had been touched by other greedy old men. Did the blond arch into their touch the same way? Calloused hands travel lower, lightly dragging the chains until the reaches the cloth pressed against Kakavasha's labia. They're already damp, fabric sticking against his cunt. There's a dangerous look in Veritas' eye. The young man knows exactly what he wants.

"You'd be surprised how obedient old men like you can be. I'd- hngh- put on a show — teasing them with a little of what they want to see and tell them how they could ruin me. You're not too different, d-daddy. Those mobsters would have lined up to put a baby in me." The hand on his neck tightens, constricting his airways from the sides. "Just like that-! They'd hold me just l-like this." He's almost out of breath. His vision is blurring.

Fluids are coated on Veritas' ring and middle finger now. But it's not enough. He needs Kakavasha to shut up about how other men have dirtied him. Right now, he needs his little lamb to think only about him. The hands around Kakavasha's neck give one last squeeze, a hard one, before he pulls away. Air floods Kakavasha's lungs once more and he nearly cums from the mercy given to him. There's a very big bad wolf looking down at him. His cock straining against his pants and his blouse is damp with sweat.

"Get on the floor. On your knees," Veritas commands. Kakavasha is momentarily paralysed with numbing arousal. "Now," a hard spank is delivered and he scrambles to kneel on the floor. The lamp beside them casts a golden light on the cock Veritas pulls out of his pants. Fuck… It's bigger than my head. Its veins are thick and defined, and Veritas pumps his cock with a strained expression. He'll really do it this time. He'll pierce into his darling Kakavasha despite how wrong it is.

Veritas shouldn't be doing this. But how else can he repay this beautiful gem for all the care he's showered on him? His heart had been plucked from his chest — cradled, soothed, loved and kissed. And so if deep, hot love is how Kakavasha wants him, then Veritas will repay him tenfold. One hand tips the young man up by his chin and he's posed a reminder. "If you ever feel uncomfortable, our safe word will be 'revolver'. Okay?"

"Sure, though I don't know if I'll be able to talk with my mouth full. It's bad manners." Kakavasha inches closer to Veritas' cock, nuzzling and inhaling its musky scent. This would become his new addiction. He's sure of it.

"Then scratch me."

With that out of the way, Kakavasha is eager to show just how talented he is. He spits onto the tip and lets more saliva dribble out. The doctor's cock immediately twitches in interest. Both hands wrap around Veritas' cock, twisting and pumping to wet the entire length. And Kakavasha lets no inch be left unattended. Soft, pink lips wrap around the very tip of Veritas' cock, alternating between little licks and increasingly daring sucks. As a hand pumps the rest of his length, Veritas' balls are cupped and Kakavasha's jaw relaxes to take more of his length.

It's impossible for Kakavasha to fit everything into his mouth and throat, and it would be incredibly easy to hurt him. Veritas maintains a white knuckled grip on the sheets, attentive for even a minuscule sign of discomfort. But none is shown. Kakavasha's lips are stretched thin, looking up at him with hooded eyes and dragging the walls of his mouth over Veritas' tip. The latter clenches the sheets harder, clicking his tongue when Kakavasha sinks his nails onto his thigh. He's not scratching, but he is teasing Veritas.

Kakavasha digs his nails deeper and closer to the sensitive inner areas of Veritas' thigh and he's barely holding himself back from fucking this imp's throat. His head is thrown back, groans and a heaving chest glistening in a rich amber glow. That's when Kakavasha knows when to stop his teasing. Timing his pumps in tandem with his mouth, he begins bobbing his head up and down Veritas' cock. His tip is hitting the back of Kakavasha's throat in each go and the outrageous slurping noises the blond makes reminds Veritas that this little devil is insane.

Veritas' thighs are trembling and slowly but surely, his hips are jolting forward like he's being zapped by electricity. His soul may be sucked out of him at this rate and he wouldn't mind one bit. The little stings on his inner thighs give him just the right amount of pain to mix with pleasure to make his scrotum twitch and tense. He's so close. So, so, co close and he can't pull away. Kakavasha doesn't let himself be pulled off and Veritas barely manages a weak "Oh, darling-!" before he shoots thick ropes of cum down Kakavasha's throat.

Waves of pleasure are crashing down on Veritas' and he doesn't realise how quick he was to cum. He's keeled forward, holding Kakavasha's head in place as he rides out the rest of his orgasm. The little lamb eagerly swallows. He downs the thick fluids and breathes in the thick, musky smell of Veritas' pubic hair that his nose is buried on.

Fuck, Veritas' eyes open. Just how much of my cock did he-

Kakavasha makes a show out of pulling Veritas' cock out of his mouth. Each inch that recedes is sobered in spit and he looks more than proud that he's fit all that down his throat. "It's handy that I don't have a gag reflex~" Kakavasha hums even though his voice is evident of some damage being done to it. He sticks his tongue out, showing how all the cum released into him had been swallowed. His tongue is so shiny and pink, and Veritas falls in love all over again.

Cupping Kakavasha's cheek, Veritas bends down to press their lips together. He's uncaring that it may be 'dirty'. He only wants to show just how proud he is of Kakavasha. The kiss they share is messy. Drool drips down both their chins and teeth clack against each other. They hold each other tenderly yet possessively. Fingers dig into each other like the night would come to sweep them apart and Kakavasha couldn't be happier that their first kiss is done so provocatively. Veritas' tongue drags across his lips, his teeth and swipes against Kakavasha's own tongue. It tickles and he continues to let his mouth be explored with closed eyes.

Two hands support him by the armpits as he's pulled into Veritas' lap. Kisses are littered across his neck and the rest of his clothes are slowly discarded. He's in the same position as he was with Erwin, but this one is infinitely better. "Good boy, such a good boy," Veritas' praises are hot on his ear and skin. Hands come forwards to cup this breasts and fingers gently roll the bud in circles.

"Mm," Kakavasha nods. He is seated on the throne he was made for. He leans back on Veritas' broad chest, exposing more of his neck to be bitten and sucked. The ripe berries on his chest tingle and it hurts just a little when they're tugged away from his body. A hand gives one last twist before it dives downwards. Four fingers are pressed against his pussy and he's asked a redundant question,

"Do you want to feel good?" Veritas rubs the swollen flesh. Kakavasha ecstatically nods. But he doesn't expect what comes next. A firm hand is flung towards his pussy, beginning a series of spanks that he's held in place to receive. His squirms are ineffective from escaping the little punishment dealt on him. Whines to ask Veritas why he's chosen such a humiliating approach aren't immediately answered and the extended duration Kakavasha is ignored makes him realise just how good this feels.

"You were supposed to tell me if I went too far. You let me shove my entire cock down your throat. Do you realise how badly that would have hurt you?" Veritas scolds. His spanks against the chubby flesh alternate between hard and soft, rapid and slow.

"B-but I liked it!" Fuck, Kakavasha could seriously cum from this. His clit is struck on some hits and the irregularity makes each moment of contact more impactful. "I could t-take you. All of you! So wh- ah-!" White begins to cloud his vision. Pressure wells up in him, so close to blowing over until… until nothing. The next strike doesn't come.

"Nooo!" Kakavasha thrashes. "I was so close! I want to cum, I want to cum, please!" He's begging — all desperate and whiny.

"Not if you haven't been a good boy," Veritas firmly says. His hand hovers above Kakavasha's pussy, never landing another blow despite suggesting that he might. "How can I continue if my dear Kakavasha can't follow instructions? Are you trying to be bad? You know I don't reward that."

The suggestion is a catastrophic warning to Kakavasha. He vehemently shakes his head, denying the accusation of misbehaviour. "No, no, no! I-I wasn't being bad, please. I just wanted to make you feel good. Wanted to make you cum. And I did, didn't I? I've been good, so please-!" A shameless sob wrecks him. Veritas is being mean and unfair, and he needed his comfort more than anything to prove he's a good boy. His whines turns into a yelp as he laid onto the mattress and he quietens when he gets a front row seat to Veritas unbuttoning his blouse. The rest of that broad, muscular chest is revealed, all the way down to his abdominal muscles.

Even as a prisoner, Veritas had maintained a consistent exercise schedule. After all, a healthy body begets a clear mind. And frankly, even helping himself to all the books lined on the shelves left him with plenty of spare time. The next expanse of skin he reveals are his thighs that are just as sculpted. Every article of clothing is tossed aside and Veritas is back in between Kakavasha's legs, kneeling and all bare for his viewing pleasure. His cock still stands at attention, contrasting even against his tanned skin.

Kakavasha's cunt pulses and his thighs spread wider. He needs Veritas' stupidly big cock to spear him open now. Folding himself in half, he hugs his thighs to the sides of his chest. His cunt is already leaking with slick, dripping to ease the hot burn of Veritas' cock entering him. "Come on, please. I'll behave, daddy. Please!" But Veritas has other plans in mind. He scoots away, much to Kakavasha's displeasure and kneels lower to graze his chin against Kakavasha's cunt.

"You'll be patient, and you'll let me do as I please. Do I make myself clear?" Veritas' breath blows against Kakavasha's cunt. The chubby lips try to clench around his words but to no avail.

"Yes, yes!"Kakavasha squirms. His scarce patience is met with the tip of the doctor's nose pressed every so slightly against his labia, inhaling and groaning out an exhale. The little dove smells so good. Veritas' cock is heavy between his legs and it leaks with each moment he acquaints himself with Kakavasha's cunt. He noses between the lips, giving soft kisses against the smooth skin that returns more wetness with each peck. His kisses turn into slight sucking, moving upward till his top lip catches on Kakavasha's cherry.

"H-hah!" Kakavasha's hand flies to Veritas' head. "Right there, please, please!" His clit is pushed harder against Veritas' mouth and makes a full body jolt when teeth gently scrape against the bundle of nerves. "Oh, shit!" It's clear what Veritas has to do next. His thumb tugs away the hood of skin obscuring Kakavasha's clit and replaces it with a warm tongue toying it in all directions. The exclamations of pleasure, the scent of sweat and the thighs squishing his face. Veritas is as far as he can be from heaven yet still in its very core, darting his tongue deeper to open up the tight walls of flesh.

"Look at me," Veritas orders. "Keep your eyes on me. Don't even let yourself think of anyone else being able to do this to you other than me." The blond listens, but he's so lost in euphoria. He's rolling his pussy into Veritas' mouth, letting a new spot of skin be warmed up every time they slither deeper into one another. Pleasure has never wrapped its talons around Kakavasha this hard and despite the grip it has on him, he's blanketed in layers of soft goodness that turns his muscles to goo. He probably couldn't even get up now if he tried, not with Veritas slurping his throbbing flesh into an eager mouth.

Embarrassment rises and simmers in Kakavasha, yet he reminds himself that this is exactly what he's been trying to get for years now. Delicate parts are treated like priceless gems under Veritas' care and the rising pressure in him closes in on him. It starts from his clit, tongued and prodded against, and it inflames the rest of his inner labia. The four walls of Veritas' bedroom echoes the shameless moans Kakavasha proclaims into existence and his increasing volume is a telltale sign that his orgasm is closing in.

"Dadd- Ngh- Veritas! Veritas!" It's the most Kakavasha can scream before the rest of his body is consumed by the heat licked into him. For a moment that seems to stretch on for eternity, his world is painted white. Brilliants golds, red and blue dance into his vision and he doesn't realise how his thighs have clamped Veritas' head in place. Fluids gush and spray out of him and his cherry is continuously pulsed with warm, wet flicks to stretch his orgasm out until his limbs give in.

Veritas keeps swallowing what Kakavasha squirts out, not once looking away from the divine image of Kakavasha's eyes rolling to the back of his head. His hips can't stop humping the mattress, anticipating the moment he gets to be enveloped in unforgettable heat. Only when the spasm in Kakavasha's limbs slow into twitches does Veritas pull away from the mess he made. Strings of clear and white sticky fluid drip down his chin and he ought to let Kakavasha know his own taste. He crawls up to the panting man, tucking his hair out of his pretty face and dipping down to sink his tongue into Kakavasha's mouth.

Kakavasha initially gags, but quickly gets used to the intrusion and weakly wraps his limbs around Veritas. It doesn't immediately occur to him that he's tasting his own spent, but he wouldn't care either way. Kakavasha blissfully closes his eyes to suck on Veritas' tongue, kneading their lips together in hopes of becoming one.

Becoming one. Kakavasha is suddenly hyper aware of the imposing weight resting across his belly. "You'll fuck me tonight, right?" He musters the best pathetic puppy eyes he can manage. His ankles have locked Veritas closer to him, pressing the base of his cock on his slobbered pussy.

Would he? Veritas has considered finger fucking Kakavasha open till the blond is dazed but he doesn't know if the latter would be conscious enough to remember what happens after that. And he definitely wants Kakavasha to remember every moment of this night.Though on second thought…

"Darling, baby," Veritas begins pressing more kisses around his mouth for good measure. "Won't you be a little more patient? I'll fuck you, just not tonight. I want your first time to be more romanti-"

Kakavasha must be so sensitive and hanging on by a thread. Any suggestion against his own desires would incite panic, just as it does now. "No!" Kakavasha vehemently shakes his head. Just where did the sly Aventurine go? "I want it- I want you tonight! You promised, right?" He grinds his hips upwards as an additional plea to sweeten his words.

"Carissimus, please. I don't have any lubrication lying around. I'll break you if I-"

"I don't care! I don't care! It's fine if it's you! I've already been loosened-"

"It's not enough…" Veritas weakly reasons.

"Yes it is! You… you wretch… always making me believe you'll do something but never- hic-"

Veritas might as well be shot in the heart. It would deal the same fatal damage as seeing Kakavasha cry. Shushes and urgent carcasses are immediately provided to soothe the young man. His tears sparkle like pearls and he's almost choking on his own sobs. Even as a mess, he's lethally beautiful and Veritas' attempts at comforting him fall short. Alas, he must play according to what Kakavasha wants. He sighs.

"Your penchant to danger is horrendous. But your risks are calculated." Veritas kisses the tears away and responds to Kakavasha's grinds with his own. "My cock would breach your womb in just one full thrust. You'd feel every inch of me, maybe get impregnated by me. Would you still take the gamble? To be clear, I wouldn't let you leave my sight if you're carrying our baby." Veritas might even lock the Stoneheart away from public eye. He'd nurture his little wife, giving himself a private view of Kakavasha's belly swelling with their baby.

"I wanna have your baby~ Want you so deep inside me," Kakavasha nods. Maybe he'll really end up pregnant, maybe he won't. That's the thrill of the gamble. He'll definitely be stretched to his limits taking that big, fat cock. That's a constant and a guarantee. But leaving the rest up to chance is exactly his style.

"Okay," Veritas has made sure Kakavasha knows what he's getting into. "Okay," he presses their lips together once more.

"Mm, ngh- I love you, Veritas."

"I love you too, my Kakavasha."

Veritas leans back up, sinking to kiss a line down Kakavasha's breast, tummy and pelvis as forewarning of what is to come. Veritas holds his cock against Kakavasha's skin to get a full picture of how deep he'll truly go. Shit, he'd reach past Kakavasha's belly button… And that's exactly how both of them want it to be. He'll imprint himself so deeply inside Kakavasha that he'll never be able to clean the cum out of him. His seed will latch onto Kakavasha's walls, swimming deeper inside till it strikes gold.

Spitting onto his cock, he pumps a mixture of spit and precum to wet himself enough to make the glide smooth. Positioning his tip in between Kakavasha's folds, he begins a slow plunge. The chubby folds part to accommodate the imposing girth, and the preliminary stretch draws droplets of fluids to leak from Kakavasha. "Keep going," he urges with laboured breathing. He watches closely to know the length sinking into him is truly reality, and not a wet dream he's cooked up.

Dark, angry veins are steadily swallowed and Veritas feels himself shaking. This is a sensation he's abstained himself from, never feeling a compelling desire to lay with anyone else for a very long time. But now, he belatedly realises that Kakavasha's departure had also taken along the inclination to intimacy. He'd been slowly withering away till Kakavasha returned, offering an oasis in dry land. The oasis — fertile and peaceful — brings life to a barren desert. Veritas' heart thunders wildly in his rest as half of his cock is already wrung by searing heat. It pulses around him, trying to pull in more but also trying to expel the foreign mass.

Kakavasha had done well to take the first six inches gradually slithered into him. His lips had been chewed and bitten raw and his hips twitch at the new sensation of meat against meat. Veritas would not have assumed Kakavasha to be a virgin with how well he's taken so much already. Though beyond that, the blond becomes visibly nervous as to how he'd fit the rest of Veritas.

The doctor pities him and he also wants to be mean. First, he leans down without jostling his cock too much. "You can be louder, I don't mind," he licks against the shell of Kakavasha's ear. A hand takes a ripe berry to play with, twisting the bud and massaging it in circles. "You're taking me so well, dear. Daddy is so proud of you." The title is a drug to himself as much as it is to Kakavasha. They've taken the bait and run, loving the debauchery and goading each other on.

"Does it hurt?" Veritas asks. His smile suggests something dark.

Kakavasha nods unsurely, reminding himself to behave for his daddy's liking. "You've taken my virginity," he reaches up to cradle Veritas' face. He feels those words doing straight to Veritas' cock, the rod twitching inside of him. He clenches again, more wetness seeping out of him. "All those years of saving it… Hehe… Do you like your present?"

"Nothing could have been better." The gentleness in Veritas' eyes are deceptive to what he does next. Carding his fingers through Kakavasha's hair, he abruptly yanks it down and pistons the rest of his cock into Kakavasha. The next few moments happen in slow motion for him. The hand holding his head down does it job of keeping Kakavasha's head in place. He captures every second of Kakavasha's eyes growing wide in panic, followed by the distinct pain that shows itself in every facial muscle. The scream he lets out is like a choir of angels singing and the tight clench around Veritas' cock nearly snaps it off his body.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck- Mnn- Argh!" Kakavasha has tears streaming down the side of his face, heaving to absorb the sting of being split into two. "Hurts, hurts- it hurts-!" But he's saying it with a crooked smile on his face. On the day he first knocked Veritas out, he considered discarding all caution to sink himself down on Veritas' cock. But on hindsight, that would have torn him into two.

Veritas rubs his pubic hair against Kakavasha's pussy, mushing coarse strands against the sticky lips. He's smiling back at Kakavasha, coming to realise that he enjoys inflicting some pain back onto him after all that's happened recently. Looking down, he sees exactly where his tip had nestled itself. Right on Kakavasha's belly button, the soft flesh bulges to accommodate the monstrous intrusion. What he thinks is his cock throbbing turns out to be Kakavasha shaking like a leaf. And in the next instant, something warm and wet soaks their lower half.

Ah… Veritas has the biggest power trip of this life. In the tidal pain-pleasure combo that crashed onto Kakavasha, he had lost control of his bladder. Piss trickles and spurts from his urethra, spilling onto the base of Veritas' cock and soaking the duvet below them. Kakavasha had pissed himself into submission and maybe he hasn't even noticed. Veritas could only chuckle, endeared by Kakavasha's clinginess.

"You've wet yourself, Vasha." Veritas hasn't used that nickname in a very long time.

"Mmgh-? E-eh?" Kakavasha blinks. "A-Ah! Shit, I'm so sor-"

"Daddy will help to clean you up later, don't worry." It seems Kakavasha didn't catch it the first time, so Veritas says it again. Intertwining their fingers together, he gently rocks into him. "Vasha, Vasha, Vasha."

Kakavasha finally hears it. The blush on his face grows deeper and he tries to hide his face. "Stooop…" he whines, but adorably locks his legs around Veritas' hip to clarify what he means. He's getting better at taking the intrusion in his womb now, sneaking peeks down at his belly to see the skin rhythmically bulge. Everything gets rubbed with each thrust and as odd as it may feel to have something reach so deeply inside him, he gets giddy knowing how amazing it must feel for Veritas to entirely fit that stupid cock of his in someone. Kakavasha is that someone and the thought sends continuous waves of pleasure down to his pussy.

In a similar train of thought, Veritas is overwhelmed with the achievement of sheathing his cock all the way down to the base. In his cute little daughter, nonetheless. He adores Kakavasha for taking his cock so well for a virgin and gets breathless from how pain turns out to be a marvellous instrument in tipping Kakavasha deeper into a submissive head space. His cute, cute Kakavasha. Veritas' Kakavasha. The claim he lays on the man is intimate like no other and no one else would be as brilliant, mad and pliant as Kakavasha.

They'll make up for lost time. Veritas would also make up for his obliviousness to Kakavasha's feelings from way back. His thrusts pick up speed, punching moans out of Kakavasha and inviting a tighter clench on his length. It gets harder to pull out each time and he resorts to quick shallow thrusts that seems to do the trick for them. His length is being suffocated, coaxed into emptying years of pent up fluids into Kakavasha's womb. Hot semen begins to surge from his testicles, squeezed through the length of his cock and he won't be able to hold back much longer.

Kakavasha's eyes had rolled back again, tongue sticking out of his mouth and has sounds unbecoming of a Stoneheart being punched out each time Veritas stretched the walls of his womb. He can't feel his clit anymore. The little bud of pleasure feels as if it had engulfed his entire crotch, sending tremors from the epicentre all the way to his fingertips. Jelly-like arms rake down Veritas' back. He scratches, bites and sucks where he can reach on the older man, like he's constantly reminding him to go faster, faster, faster!

It's a miracle Kakavasha hadn't bled during this rampage. Someone as petite as him against that throbbing behemoth should have been torn and ruptured, yet his body only responds with fluids that come from a place of lust. So Veritas is right — he is way too easy. He should feel embarrassed of how shamelessly he came onto Veritas since their reunion. But — Veritas' pace is beginning to become erratic — since all his efforts had lit a fire strong enough to make the doctor boil and spill over the edge, then being a scandalous little devil would have to continue being the way he constantly basks in Veritas' attention.

"Forgive me… Hah.. I-" Veritas groans into Kakavasha's neck. He pushes Kakavasha's thighs harder into the sheets, kneeling back up and letting his instincts take over before the hears what the blond has to say. Jerking his cock out till the very tip takes a considerable amount of force. One that's met with a loud pop! and a gush of fluids. And Kakavasha has to scramble to hold onto something, it might be Veritas' own hands, as the latter forces his cock all the way back in. He bottoms out, eyes wild from the tightness and bulge rapidly forming in Kakavasha's womb.

Kakavasha screams again, delicious red hot pain momentarily stunning him and he thrashes against Veritas' grip to buck his hips upwards each time the other pulls out to slam back in. "Close, so close-!" Veritas grunts though grit teeth. He has to empty his semen into Kakavasha no matter now animalistic he's become. His cock feels like it's bloated and has nowhere else to relive itself other than in Kakavasha.

At the very moment it feels like he's about to burst from how swollen it is, the electricity running in his body trips. Veritas loses his senses for a second and crashes forward, but his synapses snapping back into place sends a surge of all the pleasure he's felt up till now back into him all at once. Veritas doesn't know where he is, but his nose is full of Kakavasha's scent as his cock ejaculates a sticky flood that paints the walls of Kakavasha's insides white. He keeps pressing his cock deeper in, pelvic bones aching against each other as the bulge in the blond's belly swells even more.

Veritas is in paradise — his own self-made paradise who he owns in all its inescapable goodness. Kakavasha clamps down on him, choking from the new sensation. It's weird, it's weird! Kakavasha trembles. But the Yes! Yes! is far louder. He's squashed by Veritas on top of him, denied from doing anything else other than to let himself be knocked up by Veritas. He can't hold on any longer either. He gives out under the overwhelming pressure on him and gushes with warm fluids in response the Veritas' own.

Both men are lost in their own senses, so drunk on each other and their fluids mixing. All senses unrelated to each other are gone and the world beyond their bodies ceases to exist. They're trembling, crying and holding onto each so tight. Thick beads of white and clear fluids are spilling from Kakavasha's plugged pussy but neither notice. Their lips had found their way to each other, breathing into each other's mouths and slurring their calls for one another.

When they slowly come to, the first thing they see are each other. A pretty aurora against the brightest dawn. Their lips meet again. Kissing noises fill the room and they start to get a sense of how drenched the sheets are. "Hehe… 's all wet…" Kakavasha giggles. He wiggles his hips, bringing the manhood to attention again. Even as he's caked in sweat, he feels wet globs trickling down to gather at the base of his spine.

Veritas rolls his hips in response. With each movement, he sees a thickening ring of white form around the entrance of Kakavasha's pussy. Swiping what he can onto his thumb, he pushes what he gathered onto Kakavasha's lips to taste. "Remember how this tastes. It's how we taste." His thumb is sucked with plush pink lips and Veritas can't help but to fall in love again. "You belong to me. Kakavasha is the Veritas Ratio's lover, so don't you dare ever walk out of my life again." He leans back down and his voice gets weaker. "So stay. Stay by my side until the end of time…"

Kakavasha feels it too. His heartstrings are tugged and he releases Veritas' thumb. There will be nothing else in the world that could render him so defenceless. "I belong to you. All of me — take it, it's yours." Their bodies may be exhausted but neither are willing to part. So they don't. They stay connected to each other, maintaining their embrace till the necessity to clean up becomes a wisp in the haziness of slumber.

Veritas reads the daily paper in a sunny spot by a large window. His view overlooks a courtyard with garden beds slowly coming together to create something more colourful for his liking. The headline on the front page reads: Investigation on massive shophouse blast: Police find human remains.

It's been a week since that fateful night. Much has changed since then. Changed for the better. Veritas is no longer confined to a room that hides him from the outside world. He's given a much bigger bedroom. One that's already occupied by his dearly beloved. Snuggled beneath the thick duvet, tufts of blond hair sticks out in all directions. Despite the sun rising high into the sky, Kakavasha refuses to leave his cocoon of warmth. But Veritas leaves him be. He had been hopping from one place to another to ensure no loose ends were left.

In the morning after their entanglement, they slowly come to understand the full context regarding Erwin's case. Simply put, he was a shady businessman with messy ties tangling him with figures even beyond the Stonehearts and Pier Point. Establishing his base in Aventurine' territory meant it was his responsibility to handle the matter. So the clever Stonehearts kills several birds with one stone. He extracts Veritas in a crucial moment for his safety, he takes on a commission from Erwin once the news had spread of Veritas' whereabouts, he uses Erwin as agitation to get what he wants, he gets rid of a cartel and their massive hoard of smuggled gunpowder. Best of all, Veritas is devout for him. Romantically, irresistibly, carnally.

On Veritas' end, his most crucial moment would have been the single bullet he had snuck onto his person that night before leaving the workshop. When things had gotten too rotten, he slid the bullet in, cocked the revolver and pulled the trigger. His honeymoon with Kakavasha went on for the rest of the night, followed by an emotional morning after of Kakavasha re-exploring the home he spent his adolescence in. In this home on the fringes of the city, they're able to be Veritas and Kakavasha swaying in each other's arm to the nostalgic melody that plays on a record player .

Veritas agrees to move into Aventurine's own mansion after that. Their old sacred home is still frequently patrolled and the doctor informs Aventurine of his preference of living in closer proximity to his new workplace henceforth. The Stoneheart breaks into a gleeful cackle, overjoyed with the unexpected good news. He expected their lines to work to be at odds with each other. They definitely still are, but the path to compromises and bickers is one they'll thread with intertwined hands.

Now, Veritas is finally able to roam the streets without worrying too much. The greatest form of 'protection' one can receive from a Stoneheart comes in the form of their love. In Veritas' case, he's wrapped and embellished in layers upon layers of love so sweet.

For a very long time, Double Indemnity operated without its heart. A lonely figure watching love from afar. But at long last, the heart and soul give in to each other. Two beings reunite, moulding around each other to create something bigger. Over time, a painful eight year rift will fill with new memories to close the gap. An eight year disconnect will become a sixteen year honeymoon. And after that, a thirty-two year matrimony. What happens beyond that will continue to double exponentially, reaping immeasurable benefits.