Chapter Text
Present Day
Vassago leaned casually against a marble column, his keen gaze sweeping over the gathering of Goetian royalty as they mingled, exchanging pleasantries and gossip. His fingers traced the intricate glass of champagne that he had no intention of drinking. Suddenly, a cacophony of sounds could be heard as Andrealphus, the newly engaged Marquis, walked in, a woman standing beside him, their arms intertwined. Vassago could feel anger rising within him, his fingers gripping the glass flute as tightly as he could without it breaking.
“Este pendejo, pathetic,” he muttered to himself.
As if sensing the disdain and tension in the room, Andrealphus glanced his way. For a split second, their gazes locked. The air between them tightened, heavy with so many things unsaid. Andrealphus looked away, his mask of composure never faltering.
Vassago sneered and swore under his breath, the champagne flute shaking slightly in his grip. He felt sick as he remembered a time when that same gaze softened for him, held warmth instead of ice. But that was a lifetime ago…
Two Years Ago
The night was cool, stars scattered like diamonds across the night sky. Vassago lay across the ornate couch in Andrealphus’s study, his shirt unbuttoned and feathers tousled. Andrealphus emerged from the bathroom, wearing an exquisite icy blue gown. Vassago’s eyes gazed up at him in awe.
“Te ves bello, mi amor,” Vassago whispered, careful to keep quiet. Nobody could know he was there, otherwise, it would be the end of everything. Andrealphus pressed a kiss to Vassago’s temples, his fingers tracing the delicate chest feathers exposed by Vassago’s unbuttoned blouse. Vassago’s breath hitched as he tried to hide his arousal—a small moan escaped from his beak.
“You’re terrible at this,” Vassago teased, affectionately.
Andrealphus’ beak curved into a smile. “And you’re terrible at being quiet.”
“And yet, you love me anyway.”
“That I do, my love.”
Andrealphus’s mouth crashed into Vassago’s with fiery desperation, a need for warmth and connection searing through him. His hands cupped Vassago’s face with a tenderness that betrayed the frenzy of his kisses, trailing downward to plant passionate kisses along the curve of Vassago’s neck. A soft, stifled moan escaped him, his efforts to keep quiet faltering under the weight of his desire. He moaned, struggling to stay quiet. Vassago haphazardly removed his shirt, desperate to be free of the constraints. Arousal grew within him, almost impossible to contain. He removed Andrealphus’s gown until he was a beautiful, naked display of icy blue feathers. ‘Lucifer, he is a sight to behold,’ Vassago thought to himself. He leaned in to press a lingering kiss to Andrealphus’s shoulder, delighting in the way his partner shuddered beneath the touch. Andrealphus’s hands trembled as he unfastened Vassago’s trousers, his movements purposeful but hungry.
“Te necesito,” Vassago murmured, his voice raw and thick with need.
“I’m all yours,” Andrealphus replied, his tone a blend of surrender and promise.
Vassago traced a talon teasingly around Andrealphus’s entrance, drawing shivers and muffled gasps. Andrealphus covered his mouth to stifle the sounds, but the attempt was futile.
“I want to hear you moan for me, baby,” Vassago said, as he kissed the delicate feathers at Andrealphus’s ear.
A gasp spilled from Andrealphus’s beak as Vassago slipped a finger inside him, his body arching instinctively toward the touch.
“Does that feel good, mi amor? Use your words.” Vassago whispered..
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, yes, Vass, yes, more… please,” Andrealphus begged, his breath hitching with each syllable. His desperation fanned Vassago’s desire, driving him to deepen the connection.
Vassago obliged and put another finger in, rubbing the sweet spot that he knew drove him wild. Vassago delicately curled his finger to hit the right spot which made Andre tremble.
“I love you,” Andrealphus cried out, quickly covering his mouth to quieten the noise. He was trying to be in the moment and enjoy himself but he couldn’t help but worry.
“I love you too. Scream for me, baby.”
“We ca- can’t, nobody can know.” Andrealphus stammered, panic flickering in his eyes. He couldn’t risk anyone walking in on them in the throes of passion. “What if someone walks in? If someone hears us -”
“It’s okay, shhh, you’re okay. I’ve got you, mi amor.”
Vassago thrust his fingers deeper, building a rhythm that unraveled Andrealphus with each stroke. His moans grew louder, the pressure inside him crashing in like a tidal wave. Vassago loved the way he moaned, how beautiful he looked in the moonlight, how intertwined they were, how vulnerable they could be with each other. Nobody got to see this side of Andrealphus; it was special, sacred, only for him. The sight was intoxicating.
Vassago couldn’t help but touch himself as he listened to Andrealphus’s moans. He traced his cloaca as he fucked Andre harder and harder, touching himself in time with Andrealphus’s cries, lost in the shared rhythm of their passion.
They both orgasmed at the same time, trying not to scream obscenities and wake up the whole palace. Panting, their bodies still intertwined, they cuddled together on the couch, the heat of their passion gradually giving way to a quiet tenderness. Vassago stroked Andrealphus’s feathers, his gaze soft and unguarded. Here, in the moonlight, they were safe. Andrealphus knew it couldn’t last forever, but he was going to savour every last second.
Present Day
“What’s that look for? Jealousy?”
The voice pulled Vassago from his thoughts. He hadn’t noticed Andrealphus' approach, but now he was standing before him, that same infuriatingly calm expression on his face.
Vassago let out a snort. “Hardly. I was just wondering how long you’ll keep up this charade before it collapses.”
“This isn’t the place, Vassago,” Andrealphus replied, his voice icy and cold.
“Oh, I’m sorry. Wouldn’t want to ruin your big night.” He spoke in a lilting tone that usually would be received well by Andrealphus but the tone was scornful now, devoid of anything but hatred. He gestured mockingly toward Andrealphus’ fiancée, who was laughing with another guest, oblivious to the tension growing between them. “She seems sweet. Naïve, but sweet. Does she know her husband-to-be once pledged his eternal devotion to a man?”
Andrealphus’ jaw tightened. “Stop.”
“Why? Does the truth make you uncomfortable?” Vassago’s voice dropped further, laced with venom. “You walked away, Andre. You left me. For this.”
“Because I had no choice!” Andrealphus’ voice rose, drawing a few curious glances from nearby guests. He quickly composed himself, lowering his tone to barely a whisper. “You think I wanted this? You think I wanted to hurt you?”
“I think you’re a coward, hijo de la gran puta,” Vassago hissed at him.
For a moment, Andrealphus looked like he might bite back and argue. But then, his shoulders slumped, the fight draining out of him. “Believe what you want,” he said quietly. “It doesn’t change anything.”
“No, it doesn’t,” Vassago replied, his voice cold. “Because the man I loved is dead. You killed him the moment you chose them over us.”
Andrealphus flinched, but he said nothing. He turned and walked away, his back straight, his steps measured. Vassago watched him go, his chest tight with anger.
Two Years Ago
Vassago and Andrealphus lay on the bed, the soft hum of the rain against the window provided a soothing backdrop to their shared sanctuary.
Vassago, usually brimming with confidence and mischief, looked uncharacteristically serene. His head rested on Andre’s chest, his long fingers tracing idle patterns against Andre’s arm. “Do you ever think we could go public?” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.
Andre stiffened, his hand freezing mid-stroke in Vassago’s hair. “Public?” he repeated, his voice tinged with panic. “I... I don’t - no - that is not a good idea.”
Vassago propped himself up slightly, his sharp features creasing with curiosity and a hint of hurt. “Why not? Look at Blitzø and Stolas. They went public, and they’re happy now. Everyone knows, and it’s fine.”
Andre’s jaw tightened, his gaze shifting away from Vassago’s piercing eyes.
“Fine? They damn near ruined the Goetia name. Did you forget all the damage they caused? The damage they also caused to Stella? To me? They’re heathens, deviants.” Andre turned away, refusing to look at Vassago.
“Is that what you think of me, mi vida? That I’m deviant? That, because I like men, I’m a heathen? Vassago’s body stiffened and his tone lacked its usual lustre and was replaced with a cold, unfeeling, biting tone that made Andre’s heart break. Well then, what does that make you?”
“What? No! Of course not, I just - I’m sorry, I’m not ready. Nobody can know about me, about you, about us!” Andrealphus walked away, quickly pulling his dressing gown tightly around his shoulders as if trying to cloak or shield himself from the shame of himself.
It only took a millisecond before Vassago was behind him, pulling him into a soft embrace. Andre tried not to let the tears fall but as soon as Vassago looked at him, the tears fell like a waterfall.
“I’m sorry, mi amor.” Vassago placed a kiss on Andre’s forehead. “If you’re not ready, it’s okay. I love you.”
“I love you too, Vassago, I just - I just can’t right now, okay? I can’t risk it. I can’t bring even more shame to the family.”
“Andre, I’m not saying it has to be tomorrow, or even soon. But you’re not alone in this. We’re in this together.
Andre exhaled shakily, his hand moving to clasp Vassago’s. “I just—what if it doesn’t work out? What if it all comes crashing down? What if they think of me differently? You saw how they reacted to Stolas coming out, who knows what they’d do to me?”
Vassago leaned in, nestling his beak into Andrealphus’s neck. “Then we’ll figure it out together,” he said firmly. “You don’t have to carry it all by yourself. I’m here, mi amor.”
The two stood together, hugging as if afraid to let go. “I don’t deserve you,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.
Vassago smiled faintly, his fingers resuming their gentle tracing against Andre’s skin. “You do,” he replied. “And maybe one day, we’ll show everyone else that too.”
They stood there together in silence, the rhythm of their breathing syncing, their hearts beating in quiet harmony. Outside, the rain began to taper off, leaving the world fresh and renewed
“Stay here forever,” Andrealphus whispered, his words barely audible.
Vassago’s arms tightened around him. “Always,” he promised.
And for that moment, nothing else mattered.
Present Day
As the evening wore on, Vassago found himself thinking of the past, thinking of the nights when the two of them could be together, without the facade. Watching the Goetian royalty and nobility dancing and conversing, Vassago couldn’t help but feel nostalgic.
‘You’re an idiot, you know that?’ Vassago thought to himself, unsure if he was talking about himself or the Marquis who was dancing with his bride-to-be.
Vassago tried to engage in conversation with some other nobles before excusing himself to get some fresh air. As he stood on the balcony, seeking a moment of quiet, Vassago let himself unravel slightly. Tears streamed down his face as he let the hurt of the past few months wash over him. Suddenly, a cough behind him started him into action. He spun around to see Andrealphus, his feathers shining in the moonlight.
He stilled himself, he had wasted so much time and heartbreak over the peacock, he would not allow the motherfucker to see him cry. Anger rose inside him, he hated him, hated him with a burning passion.
“What are you doing here?” Vassago asked, not even bothering to hide his irritation, now that they were alone.
“I don’t know,” Andre admitted. He looked at Vassago, puzzled by his unreadable expression. “I just wanted to see you.”
“Well congratu-fucking-lations,” Vassago said bitterly. “You’ve seen me. Ya. Now will you kindly fuck off and leave me alone? Go back to your perfect little life.”
Andre didn’t move.
“I never stopped loving you.” He said quietly.
The words hit Vassago like a punch to the gut. He exhaled sharply, his chest aching, wishing nothing but to run into Andrealphus’s arms and kiss him until he couldn’t breathe.
“Don’t say that. Not now. Not when it doesn’t matter.” He said instead.
“Vassago, it does matter.”
Vassago shook his head, his voice breaking as he tried to blink away the tears forming. “You made your choice, Andrealphus. And, it wasn’t me.” He turned away, refusing to look Andre in the eyes.
Andrealphus flinched as if the words were slowly destroying him. He had no response, no witty comeback, no declaration of love, nothing. He reached out, as if to touch Vassago, but stopped himself.
After a short pause that seemed like it lasted forever, Andrealphus walked away, leaving Vassago alone on the balcony with nothing but the stars and the ghosts of what could have been.