As much as Chaz wanted to drink himself into oblivion, he was grateful to Darian for suggesting that they take a walk.  It wasn't particularly in his nature to drown his sorrows in public like this.  He'd always been more comfortable in his own home.  It was for the best if he left the heaviest of his moody drinking there because then if he made a fool of himself at least it wouldn't get into anyone else's way. 

Darian Morgan was an incredibly vibrant wizard who had his own ideas about things.  He was also one of the few people Chaz would tentatively call a friend.  If his face wasn't already red from the flow of alcohol in his system, it surely would have colored with embarrassment at the thought of the way he was moping in front of the man.  He'd said he wanted to have fun, right?

"Yes, let's!" Chaz exclaimed.  He took hold of Darian's wrist and jumped off his barstool, pulling the elegant man along with him in what was, perhaps, an undignified manner.  The Wiedman Cottage really was quite magical.  Stone walkways, overgrown gardens, and twinkling lights cast above their heads for the party.  There was a large open space dedicated for dancing.  That was the direction Chaz headed in. 

He turned and looked over his shoulder with a bright grin.  His blue eyes sparkled under the spell lights.  "I'm afraid I'm a horrible dancer but, if you don't mind, I'll try not to step on your feet too much."

And just like that Chaz was off, leaping to his feet, grabbing Darian by the wrist, and bounding off in new-found excitement. Darian tripped after him, taken off guard. He let out a startled laugh, a burst of sound more spontaneous and less pleasantly planned than his usual melodious peals.

As they headed for the dance area his long strides quickly had him even with Chaz. Smoothly he twisted his wrist and pressed it down into Chaz' grip, fingers sliding against the other man's palm before twining snugly with Chaz' own. He squeezed with a cheeky sort of smile. This new enthusiasm was endearing.

"I promise you I've seen worse," Darian said, shaking his head. The place was littered with stodgy purebloods and keen modernites alike, so it was really a toss-up as to whether anyone would say anything snide about two men dancing. Oh, behind their backs, almost certainly. But a public condemnation seemed as unlikely as a catcall - or rather, it was just as likely with this crowd that they'd receive one as the other. The dance floor was not entirely full as most were waiting for Dolly's arrival, but the amount that had given up and already started celebrating were a healthy enough number that they two dancers would not stand out.

Darian was not certain what type of party this would turn into - not yet. If it continued classy dancing might be the extent of the activities towards which people would turn a blind eye. If it dissolved into the typical Dolly drunken revelries which he knew and loved, come a few hours and no one would notice what the Libertine owner got up to with anyone he pleased.

Above all else, Chaz loved to smile and laugh and have a good time.  Even in his darkest hour Chaz would grin because he loved people and loved to help others feel better.  Being alone was never good for him because if there was no one to smile for and make smile, then he could allow himself to wallow.

 Chaz knew an honest laugh when he heard it and hearing one from Darian Morgan, who struck Chaz as an expert at social interactions, pleased him to no end.  He loved being the one to inspire it.

"I don't know," Chaz warned him with a small waver in his grin, "Malcolm always told me that I had two left feet.  An elephant would have more grace than me."  Chaz shrugged like it didn't bother him but his fingers tightened subconsciously around Darian's hand in his.  "But if you're willing to suffer through it, I'm willing to try if you are." Chaz's renewed smile, accompanied by a knowing wink, was more to cover up his own insecurities that had sprung up just now and not let it show.

"That being said, you should probably lead."  Chaz held out his free hand in invitation for Darian to precede him out onto the dance floor. 

Ah, a clue! Perhaps it was this mysterious Malcolm who had him so despondent at the bar. Perhaps Gale, whose name Darian had recognized even before he'd been included in Chaz' unconscious spoken thoughts. Now, Darian knew the way of things; he knew how to draw with careful words and sympathetic eyes tales from stranger's lips like he was their own personal confessor. He loved it. The connection that could be made between strangers, how badly people just wanted someone to listen. Little trusts like alien things that he could cup carefully in his hands - until he tired of them - and tossed them aside. The teller was no worse for his lack of continued interest. While it counted, Darian was theirs.

Fr now, he was Chaz'. Like any expert in any craft, he knew when to press and when to hold back. He knew there was a time to promise and a time to hold his tongue. He saw Chaz' sliver of weakness and wanted to coax it out into a small, trusting flame. But for all of his knowledge, some things were still a gamble. When he asked - as he eventually did - sometimes he still asked too soon. There was constantly that risk, though soothing feathers could be a fun challenge too, Darian was always so awfully contrite -

Chaz sounded like a man who was waiting to be asked. If he did not want to talk, Darian reasoned, he would not have mentioned Malcolm at all. Dancing was no good time to hold a conversation and Darian would not be able to so readily read Chaz' face or emotions. But dancing and talking took one's mind off trying too much in the former and thinking too hard about the latter, and Chaz was probably in need of both.

His hold on Chaz' hand drifted loose but he did not immediately take to the dance floor. Instead with a swift step back Darian bowed, a courtly, effortless gesture. The coy flash of teeth and lingering look were less gentlemanly, a promise of bad behavior equally faultless as his fine pureblood manners. He certainly didn't expect Chaz would complain.

"I," he said, "would be delighted." But as he led Chaz out onto the floor he dipped his head in close to murmur, "This Malcolm fellow - am I stepping on anyone's toes?"

Chaz lifted his chin and unsuccessfully suppressed a smile.  When Darian rose from his bow, Chaz returned the favor with a shorter, more abbreviated motion and then followed him onto the dance floor.  His skin tingled where Darian's breath brushed against him as he spoke.  The tingles led to chills, which led to other things that Chaz thought it best to leave off thinking about for now considering their present company.  That is, the majority of Dolly's party guests.

He allowed himself to be led onto the dance floor but once they got there he pulled on Darian's hand and brought him in close.  He began to move them in a relaxed manner that may have somewhat resembled an official dance but truth be told his mind wasn't on the dancing.  It was mixed up in thoughts of Malcolm and Gale.

"I promise you," Chaz said, looking over Darian's shoulder as they danced.  "I am completely free to do as I please.  Malcolm is my ex.  We broke up about a year ago shortly after I moved to London."  The term 'broke up' implied that it was mutual, which it wasn't.  An accurate assessment would be to say that Chaz was dumped rather horribly.  Right now, though, none of that mattered.  He slipped a hand underneath the hem of Darian's bright purple coat and rested his palm on his lower back.  Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath of nighttime air mixed with Darian's scent.  He was buzzed enough that he didn't even care that it wasn't the scent he really wanted right now.

It was the touch. That hand. The way it moved around the small of Darian's back that made Gale's heart rise from his chest. The anger, hurt, and confusion swept over him like the sea and he clenched his jaw. Envy. Pride. Wrath. Greed. Lust. Gale held over half of the seven deadly sins in one glare alone, and settled his dark gaze upon the tailor.


I promise you....I am completely free to do as I please. But that touch? That intimate place where Chaz put his hand...enough to see him undone.

Gale pulled the ribbon from his hair, allowing the long silver tresses to fall over his shoulders as if trying to free his anger by unbinding what he could. He would undo his ascot, undo the buttons on the front of his shirt, and remove the fine suit jacket that made him feel trapped and alone. All that was left was the white shirt, the leather bracers that carried his weapons, and the devil's conviction written across his pale lips.

"You know what." He spoke from behind them, venom dripping from his lips, "I think you've made your point."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Darian repled, inclining his head. He did not understand the long-term, commitment, pining. He really did not. But he had been told it took years to get over serious lovers, and he had eyes to see what happened after - the shackle some people forged of regret. "Ah, c'est la vie. At least he brought you to a good place."

They found an easy rhythm, dancing something Darian could perform without thought. Soon Chaz' hand was hot beneath his blazer, five points of fingertip heat against his skin. Darian felt the low thrill of delicious anticipation. His own hand on Chaz' arm flexed lightly, a sign of his appreciation. He smiled, lowered his eyes, dragged sharp white teeth over his lower lip. The night was still young, the dancing was good, and they both had private tents.

"I think you've made your point."

The voice came behind him. From long practice and great experience Darian immediately recognized the harmonics of one who held a claim. He looked back over his shoulder, unconcerned. This was very nearly the fastest someone'd turned up spitting jealousy, beaten only by the lass last summer who'd dreamily told him she was single from the arms of her current man. As Darian's opinion generally ran of the couples in these circumstances, there was already trouble in paradise long before the charming man in the dashing suits turned up to seduce someone. He just helped it along.

Not much to his surprise he found he knew the man staring daggers at him through pale, accusatory eye. It was harder to immediately determine exactly why Gale was glaring. Was he here because he held claim on Chaz, as Darian had initially supposed, or because of their own brief moment which made Gale angry that now Darian flaunted his involvement with another man? The wizarding world was small, and Darian knew a great deal many people... in one way or another. Unfortunately that did tend to lead to such situations as this on a rather common basis. Such were the pitfalls of being so ravenously social.

He made a snap judgement, assuming Gale was here for Chaz. Darian's time with Gale had been a handful of sweet words and smooth tailoring, nothing he didn't give to any number of lost souls, nothing that promised more than what Gale only briefly held. But Chaz had spoken Gale's name before, and was moping like a lovesick man. It was hard to tell. Had not Gale arrived with another lovely date?

All this went through his mind at a nearly instantaneous rate, and he was left only looking back at Gale pleasantly, expectantly, nothing remotely offensive writ in the curve of his lips or the slash of his brows. His face was a blank stage, and he was waiting to see which scene needed to be set.

"Gale," he greeted - that faint crinkle of his eyes hinting at warmth - before he turned back to Chaz with a regretful, good-humored, "I think he wants to dance too."

A good place indeed.  At least, it was until a cold, angry voice broke through their growing intimacy.  Upon hearing the words, spoken in a voice he recognized, Chaz stiffened in Darian's arms and then pulled away.   He couldn't help but stare at Gale with his mouth hanging slightly open.

"Gale!" Chaz exclaimed with obviously false enthusiasm.  It went unsaid but it was loudly implied, What are you doing here? 

According to Darian, Gale was here to dance.  It struck him to the core but... if that was the way of it, then who was Chaz to get in the way?  "By all means-" Chaz said stiffly with a half-step backwards.  Hurt, anger, and confusion clouded his eyes.

"No I don't want to dance. What I do want to know is why you are?" He pulled his angry glare from Darian to Chaz, "You know I can't dance with you.  But do you expect me to sit back and watch you do as you please, with whom you please?" He looked between the two with just as much hurt as their was anger.

"And you don't love him. He's been through way too much for you to chew him up and spit him out. Is this what brings you pleasure?" Gale spoke up to Darian, though his tone was as harsh as if he were speaking down to him. His shoulders shook with the thrill of the fight, and there rush had him close the distance between he and Darian. His English was never very good when he was angry, and his tongue threatened at any moment to switch to his Romany language.

"Keep your hands off, Morgan. Or I break your face in."

Chaz mistook his meaning, and Gale just plowed over it. Ah, well. His little jokes weren't for an audience such as this. Interesting what it had revealed, though - Chaz didn't think Gale had come for him either. Darian reached out to him as Chaz drew away, a light, reassuring touch to the other man's arm to combat the hurt that skidded over Chaz's features. "No, no," he said, laughing a little. "I didn't mean with me - "

"And you don't love him. He's been through way too much for you to chew him up and spit him out. Is this what brings you pleasure?"

Darian looked at Gale with interest, the slant of his blue eyes assessing and brief. It was quite the bold accusation to make of someone Gale had met only twice, not to mention just a nasty thing to say - one hinting at former knowledge of Darian that Gale did not have. Anyone who'd overheard would be surprised, even appalled. The charming, rakish  fashion designer did not have that reputation in this crowd. Furthermore Darian had been certain that whatever impression Gale'd left Libertine with the other day, it wasn't that.

Very careless. It was clearly emotion speaking, which did not bode well for a quiet or peaceable encounter. Chaz did not seem so enthusiastic - possibly Gale would alienate him more with speaking so strongly, so jealously, strong-arming him out of his nightly fun. Darian himself had always disliked being told what he could or couldn't do, or rather, whom.

He adopted a mock-pout as he cried, "And you know me so well, do you?  What an awful thing to say!" Darian's expression cleared of its indignation into something momentarily slyer, more playful, more laughingly self-content. "I always swallow."

He couldn't resist; Gale'd made it so easy. And perhaps there was something funny about all of this, the scenario so painfully dramatic - Darian laughing about it behind the fan of his fingers like a particularly predictable stage play, guessing every sad line. He was a part of it but he wasn't really a part of it, pulled into it by necessity again and again. Once removed from life by his own nature. The mechanism of Gale and Chaz' relationship mattered little to him, but there were formalities to observe, facts to state, illogical holes to poke as one would a loose tooth though Darian knew intellectually it would only make things far worse. The correct thing to do would be to apologize and get his finely-clad arse off the dance floor, far away from Chaz, before this storm brewing could explode. Let Chaz deal with his jealous (ex?) lover. Darian could find less dangerous companions.

But that, simply put, would be absolutely no fun. Darian was a very smart man but in this he was rather dumb; he couldn't leave it alone, couldn't resist making it just a little bit worse. The temptation was too powerfully great to just turn tail and make a graceful escape.

Darian's smirk gentled into a small smile. His tongue was silk-smooth, his words measured and reasonable, dropping any pretense of offense. "Love is not a requirement to enjoy someone's company, or want to know them more. A dance is not a proposal, Gale, though it does bring me pleasure. Chaz is an excellent partner, as I'm sure you know. But I have to confess some confusion on this matter - did you not bring a date of your own tonight?" He cut his eyes towards the crowd where he'd last seen Gale and Eha together, voice lowering as he murmured, "This is an interesting double standard. And threats, too - are you not a school teacher? I'm very surprised. I would not have guessed you'd leap to violence so quickly at such a little thing."

So quick to pummel the face he'd lovingly wiped blood from upon their first meeting! In any other situation but the typical jealous boyfriend scenario, Darian might have been as surprised as he confessed. Still, it was erratic, worrying behavior. Poor, poor Chaz. Having to worry his honeybunny'd jump every man who so much as gave him a lingering look.

Chaz stiffened at Gale's words, which were harsh and commanding but Darian's easy confidence helped immeasurably.  His hand was light but firm on his arm and it was that in conjunction with his choice of words that provided much needed warmth and support. 

The joke about swallowing was tasteless but appropriate as always.  On a better day Chaz would have smiled broadly and run with the innuendo as far as he could.  But this night was an off night considering the shock of seeing Gale with a date and now this confrontation between the three of them.

Chaz stepped into Darian's side, enabling the hand on his arm to slide around his back.  His own arm slipped around Darian's lower back.  He made sure his hand would be visible on the other side, stroking lightly on the man's hip.  There was fire in his veins and it fueled him on to most likely make matters worse.

"If your  propriety won't even let you dance with your friend, then why are you here making a scene?" Chaz asked pointedly.  His voice was calm and level but it was icy, distant, and carefully designed to hurt.  "Surely your boss at the school would disapprove if you beat up a shop owner.  You might even have to explain to him why you got so angry about my dancing with him."  Eyes flashing, Chaz dared Gale to hit Darian because he would bloody well make sure the whole party knew why Gale did it.  He would do it too.  No job, no reputation, no friends... there wasn't really anything left for him to lose.  Especially if Gale insisted on alienating himself like this.

“Love is not a requirement to enjoy someone's company, or want to know them more. A dance is not a proposal, Gale, though it does bring me pleasure. Chaz is an excellent partner, as I'm sure you know. But I have to confess some confusion on this matter - did you not bring a date of your own tonight?" He cut his eyes towards the crowd where he'd last seen Gale and Eha together, voice lowering as he murmured,  "This is an interesting double standard. And threats, too - are you not a school teacher? I'm very surprised. I would not have guessed you'd leap to violence so quickly at such a little thing."

Gale narrowed his eye upon Darian, and took a single step closer, so that he could better make his point, and glare the man down. His voice was quiet, and spoken more through his teeth than he thought able.

“I can assure you, Mr. Morgan, it wasn’t a school teacher that pulled you out of that alley either. So don’t you dare think for a moment that I won’t wash your blood from my hands as easily as I did those men. I came tonight on a matter of business, with a woman I did research for, and a fine young lady that I met the same night I met Mr. Lawrence. An-…” He stopped.

Chaz stepped into Darian's side, enabling the hand on his arm to slide around his back.  His own arm slipped around Darian's lower back.  He made sure his hand would be visible on the other side, stroking lightly on the man's hip.  There was fire in his veins and it fueled him on to most likely make matters worse.

‘If your  propriety won't even let you dance with your friend, then why are you here making a scene?’

It took a good long moment for it all to sink in, and Gale to raise his gaze from where Chaz’s hand rested. But even as he started in with his answer his gaze fell back to where Chaz held Darian so tightly.

“It’s more than just a propriety, Chaz. And trust me it’s not my own. I think you of all people would understand…” What it was like to worry of losing your career. To lose your friends. Your family. “That someone else is touching you…dancing with you, when all I have thought about all week was doing just that. You have no idea what I would give to be where he is now, but also don’t know a damn thing I have gone through to get where I am in life. What I have survived, and what I have overcome.’


‘Every waking moment has been spent counting down to when I get to see you again, and don’t you dare make me feel like a coward because I can’t sacrifice my job for someone I hardly know. Don’t you confuse my jealousy for propriety.” He laughed, but the sound skated more on the edge of his sanity than his good humor, “If you think I have morals, than you clearly don’t know a damn thing about me. But damn it I love being a Professor, and if you are going to poke fun at that, and make me feel horrid for wanting to keep my job than you two deserve each other.” The flash in Chaz’s eyes, had Gale upon him in seconds. His face an inch from the much smaller frame when compared to Darian, and his own anger rising like a burning phoenix from the flame,“Don’t taunt me.” He hissed quietly as if whispering to the artist, “You have no idea what I’m capable of.”[1]

1.	Totally a great time for Eha to step in.

Chaz promptly stepped away from Darian, feeling more than slightly guilty about this whole situation.  "Business?" he asked hopefully but ultimately disbelievingly.  He remembered the way they'd looked at one another. It hadn't looked like  business, polite and friendly but formal.  He began reminding himself why he'd felt so justified in his outrage, despite his guilt.

"How am I supposed to know that you kept thinking about me?  You never even owled me!  What am I supposed to think when I don't hear from you and see you at a party with someone else?"  Chaz's hands flew out to the side in an exasperated half-shrug.  "I honestly thought you'd changed your mind.  Again."

Chaz was, of course, remembering the last time they saw one another on that cold Winter's day where Gale had pushed him away and pulled him in.  With a sad shake of his head, he regarded Gale solemnly and said, "I couldn't stand the thought that I might have been the last to know that you'd already moved on."

“Don’t taunt me.” He hissed quietly as if whispering to the artist, “You have no idea what I’m capable of.”

With a harsh inhale, Chaz stepped back towards Darian as though seeking protection.  His eyes were wide with a mixture of confusion and hurt.  "I wasn't taunting you!" he protested, clearly hurt by the notion.  "How could you think I'd do that to you?"

"You would beat me?" Darian asked, eyes going round and a hand flying to his chest in surprise. He had something else for Chaz to chew on, if Gale was going to play it from that angle. "After the connection we shared! I am just shocked, really, I thought we had something. What else is a man to think after the way you..." He trailed off, lips parting in a slow smile. "Well, you were very devoted in my shop; I was so ready to be tamed. It's strange now to find you hateful. It's almost misleading, wouldn't you say? Love them and then leave them, chew them up and spit them - oh! Just like you accused me of doing!" He confided in a sly whisper, nearly laughing, "I really feel used."

Gale slunk over to blaze up in Chaz' face instead. Darian took the respite to inspect his fingernails, more for effect than out of need. Naturally, they were immaculate.

"That's the wonderful part about being alive, Gale," he said, glancing up. His blue eyes were heavy and his mouth was unimpressed, beautifully blasé with Chaz' arm around his hips. "Everyone here has had experiences you couldn't dream of. What we have survived and what we have overcome. This isn't a pissing contest for the saddest backstory; we all lived through a war. So I believe you, darling, but no one really cares. It's not a valid excuse to act this way, particularly towards 'someone you hardly know.' The guilt-tripping, the threats, the ever-ready excuses... almost abusive, isn't it? What a fantastic way to start a relationship."

That heavy-handed hinting stuff was amateur seduction. One should show the angst in one's actions, not explain it - it was much more effective that way, very mysterious and brooding. But Gale and Chaz were clearly having a moment, so what did Darian know about amateurs.

"You would beat me?" Darian asked, eyes going round and a hand flying to his chest in surprise. He had something else for Chaz to chew on, if Gale was going to play it from that angle. "After the connection we shared! I am just shocked, really, I thought we had something. What else is a man to think after the way you..." He trailed off, lips parting in a slow smile. "Well, you were very devoted in my shop; I was so ready to be tamed. It's strange now to find you hateful. It's almost misleading, wouldn't you say? Love them and then leave them, chew them up and spit them - oh! Just like you accused me of doing!" He confided in a sly whisper, nearly laughing, "I really feel used."

Gale looked at Darian as if he were the dumbest thing to ever step foot before him, and in that moment all respect for the man was lost. This fool had caused him more trouble than he was worth, and even the attire he wore now felt as if it were made of fire only because this man made it. He couldn't blame all of the hatred his co-workers felt on Darian, and knew that a great deal of what his own fault. However, had he never ran into the tailor that night it would have been for the better.

"I'm sorry, I really don't want to talk to you, and am truly sorry for bringing you in on it. Forgive me, but I'm really just interested in talking with him." Gale would have dismissed it further had Darian not kept going, and said something Gale simply couldn't let go.

"Will you please just shut up and walk away? I didn't ask for your opinion of me, nor do I give a rats ass on what it is. You matter very little Darian Morgan, at least to me. Now fu-" He felt the tug of someone on his arm, and before he knew it was being led towards the doors.