“To Mrs L two whom we would all be lost - especially Balfour.” Johann lifted his drink ten minutes later. “And to our newly appointed solicitor.”

Three glasses met over the table. “Suppose we best invest in carnations for tomorrow morning.” He remarked to Balfour, since they were Mrs Lanningham’s favourite flowers. “Yellow hyacinths[1] for Ceph.”

Glancing between the two of them, visualising that joke flying cleanly over Gamp's head opposite him, Johann waved a hand to dismiss it. “Never mind,” he muttered, feeling an explanation would just make it worse. Where was Darian Morgan when one wanted to poke fun using Victorian flower language?

He had cast off his coat again, cleaned the worst of the mud off the bottom off his suit trousers with scourgify once they were safely back in their world. It was warm enough inside to roll his shirt sleeves up. His arms sported a couple of scratches from the branches earlier. They’d all lost a layer or two since their escape. At least Cepheus didn’t look like he’d borrowed his father’s suit for a job interview now, tie loose and shirt collar unbuttoned. Balfour looked dashing as he eternally did. The wizard could wear a potato sack, covered in dragon dung and Johann would still find him attractive. Clothes added, but did not take away. There was no hope of saving him. Johann's gaze lingered.

“Definitely a night to tell the grandchildren about.” Johann chuckled without thinking about what he was saying, swigging his beer a little thirstily, “But next time we’re disapparating.” Across from him, Ceph straightened a little and shuffled, frowning. “Next time,” Johann repeated, defying the shorter wizard’s inference that they should avoid getting caught again. “However painful a splinching might be in that situation.”

1.

ref

Balfour had wasted no time in freeing himself of layers, trying to shrug off the claustrophobia of being trapped in a tight corner - less of a threat now. He toasted the other two and knocked back a substantial dram of ale. Yellow hyacinths missed him, the handler’s thoughts drifting in other directions.

Chiefly that of going home at the end of tonight. What an evening it had been! And would continue to be, maybe, if he and Johann were clever about it.

Grandchildren! Balfour hastily swallowed his drink in surprise, glancing at his partner to see whether he’d been teasing. No. The German wizard hardly paused in their exchange with Gamp, continuing smoothly as if though future progeny was a subject normally mentioned in passing.

Curious. It wasn’t that the notion had never cropped up in his thoughts before. He found his bearings haphazardly, tearing attention away from Johann to fix Ceph with a distracted smile.

“Is that disapproval I sense?” Balfour pushed these imaginary grandchildren into a distant corner of the mind. “Don’t worry Cepheus… you won’t have to come collect us next time,” he emphasised Johann’s choice of words, leaning back in his chair while he observed their friend in a more playful light.

Confession - he would be lying out of his arse if he said he’d never considered it. There was something awfully tempting about the fourth floor colleague that made Balfour want to toss him around; something equal parts vulnerability and impudence.

And he had an excellent partner with whom to do such delicious things. “I think Mr Gamp prefers more private forms of pleasure,” Balfour observed to Johann and feigned innocence. “He’s such a delicate creature."

“Is that because they won’t let you out a second time, Mr Donovan?” Cepheus retorted to the suggestion he would not be retrieving the pair from custody in future. He did hope they didn’t repeat that, despite the joke.

”… He’s such a delicate creature.” What was that meant to mean? Ceph narrowed his eyes a fraction in consideration at to what Spectre was implying. He shuffled his feet a little uncomfortably beneath the table and gripped his pint a little more firmly. Was this a suggestion he was any less of a man than the other two? Balfour wrangled dragons, fair enough, but Johann wrangled a quill.
“I’ve survived giants.” Cepheus pointed out bluntly, eyes not shifting from his fellow Division Head’s expression.

Gods, Spectre was up to something, wasn’t he? At this time, Cepheus expected to be curled up in bed with Claude, his cat, reading another chapter of one of Rosier’s books. He did not expect to be crashing Balfour and Johann’s first valentine’s day together, not sharing a drink nor breaking them out of jail. They should be at home, doing what they were doing in the park when they were apprehended. What were they up to?

“What?” He asked of them both, colour creeping up his neck. Ceph self-consciously smoothed his dark hair back behind his ears, no longer quite as confident and cocky as he’d been during their rescue. There was something about the way they looked at him. It was like two cats sizing up a bird in a cage.

“You’re both giving the same look,” Ceph extended his finger and waved it from one to the other, “and I’m not sure I like that look...”

“Mm.” Johann agreed thoughtfully from beside Balfour, licking the foam from his pint off his top lip with his tongue. “Definitely.” He recognised that tone well. It was the suggestive one that made him put down whatever he was doing to pay proper attention to his lover. It was always more fun to co-operate. He gave his partner a sidelong glance, examining his manner reclined in the chair.

Sensing a game, Johann paid keen attention to their third party, the way he wiggled uncomfortably in his seat under their gaze and his protest about giants. Cepheus was three, four inches shorter than Johann, slighter too. He often made mild protest about the way Johann and Balfour conducted themselves while on Level Four. However much he maintained he wasn’t jealous, Johann would often wind him up about being green. Ceph was another reason - well an excuse really - to be on Level Four. He also spoke goblin tongue, but had for a while longer than Johann. Even if he didn’t particularly need a second opinion, it gave him a reason to wander the office.

Johann's gaze lingered, if only to wind Ceph up. Balfour perhaps, had another idea, which Johann’s mind had quickly considered a moment before. It might shut Gamp up about his protests, after all. This wasn’t the way he’d anticipated their valentine’s day night panning out by any sense - what with the unscheduled interruption - but perhaps they were unsuited to conventional romantic ideals. Perhaps they were more suited for outdoing them.

“Giants?” Johann remarked, glancing to Balfour as if to say well now, “Size matters to you, does it?” He chuckled with delight as the tips of Ceph’s ears turned pink at the comment. “Can handle something big can you?” Scratching his chin, but not breaking his gaze with Cepheus and his increasingly flustered expression as he tried to hide behind a pint, Johann inclined towards his lover. “Have I said something, Balfour?”

Balfour only tugged his gaze from their prey to give his partner a pleasant and admiring look from beneath half lowered lids - Johann was quick with words. Quick to latch on to the suggestive, to unravel the tensely wound knots of language. Positively dangerous if one were being honest. He loved it. Alone he might be a playful mate with which to contend but with his Johann they must have seemed formidable.

Hungry, observant eyes flicked back to Cepheus at the query; that they might deliberate over their friend all at once.

“Only true and wonderful things, my dear….” Balfour trailed off as he licked his bottom lip and allowed himself to deliberate a little lower down Cepheus’ seated figure. Pale, flushed neck and slender shoulders, hidden beneath shirtsleeves: though it was impossible not to discern the almost elfin build.

It required no stretch of imagination to picture Johann and himself cornering the younger wizard into a tight spot. And it would be one hell of a first Valentine’s night together, wouldn’t it? Already there was a story to tell.

They began their relationship in September as they meant to continue after all: passionately, without reserve.

His tankard was forgotten in favour of this game. He stretched out a leg underneath the table and carelessly brushed it against that of his colleague. “Come now, Cepheus, you can’t tell me you haven’t thought about it.”

Balfour didn’t have to be a Leglimens to have his suspicions about Gamp. “Unless you’re afraid we might disappoint?” he tilted his head to the side, as if though envisioning Cepheus in an especially provocative position - but no, simply gauging the willingness of a playmate.

Ceph could feel his face warming at the scrutiny. Johann’s teasing over giants and Balfour’s gaze were stoking a fire that he’d not anticipated being lit. Mrs L had summoned him to rescue them both from a police station, not to have a drink and be propositioned! They had made the odd joke before along these lines, but never quite so blatant, and on valentine’s day of all days!

Above the table, Ceph’s hand gripped the pint and lifted it to his lips, buying time to think. His first decisions weren’t always his best decisions, and the first decision had been to bid them goodnight, laugh it off and hurry to the door. Beneath the table, something - or rather - someone brushed his leg with theirs. His pint abruptly returned to the table, eyes examining Balfour, breathing in shallow, quick breaths as his heart beat a little quicker. His gaze slid to Johann and back again. Gods, Spectre’s gaze did something awful to his insides.

“We? Phew, is it me or is it rather warm in here?” Cepheus asked, pulling at his already loosened tie and collar, cheeks now burning like hot coals. He fiddled, shifting his pint this way and that before setting it down decisively and sliding it aside.

Of course he had thought about them both. Individually, together, in the past, since they had been together. Admitting it, considering they were such a visibly close couple was an entirely different matter. They were his colleagues as well as friends, and he was professional. A Division Head didn’t admit to the other that he’d entertained notions of him undressed. It was one of those unfulfilled fantasties, unfulfilled for reasons of practicality and sense. These two weren’t sensible. They did each other in park bushes and got arrested on Valentine’s day. Ceph just spent the night alone with his cat. Fuck them. Literally.

“So what if I have?” He asked them both, licking his lips, his leg now resting against Balfour’s though the other foot twitched. “I just - well, I guess I never…” His gaze darted from one to the other, still weighing up the distinct possibility this was an elaborate wind-up. He lowered his voice, leaning towards them both, resting his elbows on the table. “I never expected an invite. Especially not considering what day it is.”

A few months ago, it had been Johann all twitchy, flustered and warm. He’d been helped to street level by Balfour’s strong arm, and then pinned against the brickwork while his mind spun. Never would he have ever anticipated a little over five months later that he’d be hungrily eyeing up colleagues with that same wizard. It was ever so slightly odd to see Balfour chat up another wizard, even if he did use plural personal pronouns. A small part of Johann felt unsurprised at his lover’s romantic history given the smooth approach.

Ceph’s blustering and jibes over matters by memo were lost in person. Johann found his reaction to an actual invitation endearing. He was so used to being the one tongue tied when they did this, but they’d both known Mihai - Balfour rather better than Johann when it had happened at the turn of the year. Cepheus was different. He was younger, and his love life was not the subject of idle office gossip amongst either gender. He trusted that Balfour knew this would not sour their working relationship on Level Four, otherwise it could get very awkward indeed between the three of them.

”So what if I have?” Gamp admitted eventually, red-faced. Johann grinned, all teeth. He knew it! It had all been front, jealousy, curiosity, perhaps even complaints to appeal to their defiant natures to keep up their fun. He felt rather excited at the notion that someone new had admitted they thought of Johann and Balfour as attractive. Perhaps Gamp wanted to watch rather than join in… Balfour had suggested such once and those cheeks had blushed then.

“Nobody should expect an invite, Cepheus.” Johann assured him quietly, still grinning. He gave a glance to Balfour out of the corner of his eye before reaching across his right hand, settling it over Gamp’s nervous hands knotted on the tabletop. His own heart was racing but more for the hunt than nerves. “But when we agree we see something we both like, why resist?”

Balfour felt a little trill go right through him as their prey gave an inch - enough to pry open a diffident door, certainly more than enough with a dram of lubricant. Not that any of them had drunk enough at the pub to blame inebriation for this exchange.

He smiled amusedly when Johann slid into the role. Less intimidating than himself, which was a blessing, as they were soliciting a rather precarious game; Hollow might be scandalised if he discovered his two Heads were involved in an inter-departmental ménage à trois.

Never mind that. It was all in good fun. They were grown-ups.

As his lover laid a hand against Cepheus’ on the table, Balfour’s concentration flickered between the two men with a touch of adulation… and more than a hint of lust. His leg shifted slightly, jawline drew taut.

“And we do like you.” Balfour offered with a wider, toothier smile. “In fact, we’d terribly enjoy liking you under different circumstances. Between us, beneath us...“ he narrowed his gaze knowingly.

The thing about being with Johann is that it always seemed as if though they were misbehaving. If he had gone out with anyone else and spent the night teasing or fucking Cepheus Gamp, pleasure might be had - but doing this with Johann was distinct.

It felt like they were doing something wonderfully wrong.

“I’ll tell you what,” he bit the inside of his cheek thoughtfully and studied Cepheus. “We’re going to get up and leave in a moment. Come along if you’d like. Or you can forget about tonight and pretend this was all a laugh when we get into work tomorrow.”

Balfour knew that Johann would recognise the form of the offer. It revealed his past patterns maybe, falling back on the other person’s autonomy to make a decision. He found that when people were blatantly presented with the option of a risk, they were more likely to take it.

The great fear in life wasn’t doing but the regret of not doing.

Above the table, his hands were pressed gently but purposefully to the woodgrain by his German colleague’s cool hand, while beneath his fellow Level Four colleague returned a pressure against his leg which suggested more than a friendly sharing of personal space. He blinked slowly, Balfour’s words made it entirely, unmistakably clear that they were implying what he had understood a moment before.

Evidentially, Balfour and Johann’s valentine’s day celebrations were incomplete without something unconventional. The police station hadn’t been enough to satisfy that need, and now he was their chosen replacement. He he was now absolutely sure he’d forgotten how to breathe and had turned a funny shade of pink, staring at one and then the other. He licked his lips, throat suddenly dry.

Claude would never believe him, invited home by two handsome and wicked wizards who taunted him on a near daily basis in retaliation for his jibes about their rather visible sex life. Had Mrs Lanningham factored this into her choice of escape routes for her delectable senior and his devious partner? Would this change things irrevocably in the office, might it turn into something regular? Was he thinking too far ahead?

Probably.

If the two across the table from him didn’t get married in the next five years he’d eat one of his favourite umbrellas. They hunted far too well together for what… months together? Cepheus wasn’t entirely sure when it had all happened just that by November it was impossible to avoid. It was also about then that his own mind had begun to wander to what happened behind that locked door that left black curls messed when they left half an hour later at lunch.

”... or you can forget about tonight and pretend this was all a laugh when we get into work tomorrow.” Balfour offered. His partner lifted his hand from Ceph’s and sat back. The offer made, the decision was now solely back on him. For that, despite the cunning psychology, he respected them both. Balfour and Johann were both assertive, persuasive people in their own right, and together with the rapport, Cepheus doubted many would refuse once snared. The younger wizard’s hands collected his glass and he drank thirstily.

“Fuck it.” He uttered, lowering the glass back to the table an inch less beer inside it. Ceph’s gaze remained on the pint and his hand wrapped around it on the table. “Like I said earlier. Not like I’ll get a better offer to be beneath or between.” He inhaled deeply and looked up at them both, a smile curling his lips. He felt a genuine thrill of anticipation growing as he considered how little sleep might occur before morning.

“Happy Valentine’s day.”


End