Sometime after 1800 hours


"Listen to this," he said, perched on the railing of the outside stairs that led up to flat door. "At night the clouds set sail// I listen for the hour to chime// And I can hear// The ending of another tale."[1]

Virgil looked up from the book he picked up at lunch time, cigarette burning away in his other hand. He'd made plans for coffee at Alohomocha with Cepheus after work and they now lingered outside in the winter air to smoke. His clothes were fine, one of his best winter outfits, thrown on after a quick shower at home for the express purpose of preening before his boyfriend.

Life was... lovely. In spite of his promise to Fauna to scry for hints, no morbid visions dropped by. Taking a break from Stardust gave him more time to read and compose and luxuriate in bed on lazy mornings.

"Reverdy's meant to be a surrealist," the young wizard spoke through a cloud. "Like Dalí, with words, but I think he's more a Romantic than people are willing to admit."

He realised he had been talking a lot, and smiled sheepishly at Cepheus. His cheeks were already pink from the cold but the colour deepened. "Sorry," he slipped off the railing and stubbed out the cigarette in one of the repurposed jam jars on the floor. "I get terribly obsessed when I discover new writers."

Virgil shook his head in mock self-reproach, earrings dancing with the movement.

"Thank you for getting coffee," his red smile turned coquettish. "May I pay you back with a tune?" he nodded at the flat door, meaning Ceph's pretty pianoforte.

1.	"Dark Room" by Pierre Reverdy, translated by Mark Polizzotti.

Very poetic, were the words which reflexively sprung to Ceph’s mind as Virgil read the lines. But as with most things he thought of first, he shelved them in favour of the better thought which followed. He was leant against the wall beside his front door, diagonally opposite his poetry-reading boyfriend.

Unlike Virgil, Cepheus hadn’t had the time to preen between work and coffee. He had found an unanswered memo in his pocket as he’d come to pay at the counter and the working week still pinched at the start of his weekend. But when he looked at Virgil he was reminded of the weekend, as if the grey working week was setting like the poem described, and the younger wizard’s golden crown rising up the steps to Ceph’s flat was dawn’s arrival.

Virgil was remarking on the text, gesturing, and Cepheus blinked firmly refocusing his attention. He pictured Dalí’s works. There had been some of his sculptures on the South Bank once. Elephants on stilts. The sort of thing he was sure Rascal was into, if he hadn’t been the one to point Ceph in the very direction.

“Not enough melting clocks for you?” He answered, and smiled easily at the apology. “You don’t say? I’d never have noticed.” As Virgil slipped from the railings, Ceph’s shoulders lifted from the brickwork and they met on the top step. He inhaled Virgil’s fresh cologne let it chase the weekday thoughts.

“You may,” he answered in a low tone, “if it will lift your nose out of your book just long enough for me to-“ he finished his sentence with a kiss, gentle, lingering, eyes falling closed. There. That was what it took. The door unlatched, and Cepheus tugged Virgil’s hand inside.

            “You don’t say? I’d never have noticed.”

He did not mind being teased as such by Cepheus, a quip that would have earned his scorn coming from anyone else. In fact Virgil rather enjoyed it - a pleasurable prick of embarrassment, a reason to blush. His lips surrendered a giggly smile into the doorstep kiss.

Cepheus smelled of a day's work; of a fading Cedar fragrance, of musk and sweat and the slightest trace of parchment. It was decidedly masculine, which always sparked a thrill through Virgil. He was fresh out of a shower but he wanted to be pulled against the older wizard, to luxuriate and relish in that scent.

Still smiling, he shed his coat and hung it up once they were inside. Virgil was in no rush. The weekend lay before them. He had sensed some tensions in Ceph at the cafe and he wanted to mollify or soothe or whatever it was the other man needed.

Reverdy remained forgotten. "Hello, aren't you looking fine today!" he greeted Claude as he slipped off his shoes, and bent down to scratch the friendly feline behind its ears.

"How's your week been?" Virgil headed over to the piano, glancing back at Cepheus to make clear he wasn't asking the cat.

They had already caught up on his own work life over coffee - at least whatever work he could share with other Ministry people. He explained having to scry for Fauna, just in case history repeated itself and a vision visited him in bed[1] or at a dinner[2] table. Outside of that, Virgil was quite the happy camper.

He slid on to the bench, lifting the piano lid. Ready to play a light little tune.

1.	6th Jan - A Little Blurry, Or Maybe it's My Eyes
2.	28th July '11 - Of Every Waking House

"How's your week been?" Virgil asked, perching upon the piano stool, and lifting the lid on the keys.

"If a week can be simultaneously productive and frustratingly unproductive, then that was mine." Cepheus explained, now free of his coat. He wore a little frown, and emptied his pockets onto the kitchen counter, coins and the unanswered memo forming a neat pile.

But the frown dissipated at the meow of his very-much-not-a-flexible-Frenchman. Ceph scooped Claude up into his arms like a small child, pressing kisses to top of the cat's head and expertly attending to cheeks, chin and whiskers with his free hand.

Claude delighted in the attention, purring and letting out a happy meow, butting his head against his owner's chin. Very much you're home at last, and you're paying me attention! Not that Claude got that jealous when Virgil stole Ceph's attention, his boyfriend was rather adept at showing Claude adequate affection to win over the cat. Thankfully Claude was a sociable sort, and as long as Virgil didn't try to tie bows on and kidnapp him, he could stay.

"It can be particularly exhausting to be around people who feel the need to take firm sides and hold strong opinions on every little thing. Is it like that downstairs? Or are you all so secretive about your projects you can't boast about them?" He gave Claude another kiss on the head and let him down gently onto the sofa.

In that moment he became self-aware at what Virgil was effortlessly playing.

But there's one thing I know
The blues they send to meet me
Won't defeat me, it won't be long
Till happiness steps up to greet me

“Raindrops keep fallin’ on my head…” Ceph sang along gently as Virgil’s adept hands returned to the refrain. “Yes, quite, less about work, more about the weekend.” He clasped Virgil’s shoulders and left a kiss on his cheek, subconsciously evening out the score with Claude, only Virgil had shorter whiskers. They would enjoy the weekend, and everything could wait until Monday.

“Is this your warmup for the karaoke night…?”

His fingers danced along ivory keys unthinkingly, as natural to him as talking or walking. Virgil laughed as he heard Claude's happy meow in the background, and he glanced over his shoulder while the older wizard complained about the strong personalities of level four - the only other department that could match two.

That reminded him of his recent run-in with Andromeda[1] and he pushed the thought away, not wanting to ruin the mood.

             "Is it like that downstairs? Or are you all so secretive...."

"We bicker! I won't lie," he replied and shrugged, and gave the song unnecessary flourish. "I try not to boast."

Virgil kept his head down on Mysteries when he could help it - he already drew enough attention by being so close to Yavin, and didn't need further protests of favouritism.

Ceph's kiss made him smile to himself, a smile of contentment. It pleased him to be able to distract Cepheus from things like squabbling giants or work drama, though Merlin knew Virgil loved to chat about the Ministry grapevine.

"You've caught me out," his playing grew slower, mischievous eyes lifting to the other wizard. "I'm only dating you so that I can practice karaoke on your piano. A magnificent ruse."

Virgil's hands lifted off the keys and he swung one leg over the bench, straddling it as he chatted. "Do you want to go karaoke? We can do something more relaxing," he leaned back, hands behind him, boyish. "I would too, if I had to deal with everyone on four. Present company excluded, of course."

He thought of his interactions with Bagnold[2] and general bitterness towards Ballentyne, and felt even more keen to distract Cepheus from such personalities.

1.	6th March - Nothing to Prove
2.	6th March - The More We Know

“I try not to boast.” If Cepheus had known the other sides to Virgil better, as Ariadne did, he might have scoffed at this suggestion, but Virgil was different around him.

“A magnificent ruse.”
“You are revealed!” Cepheus played along, gesturing both hands upwards in mock alarm. Virgil turned on the stool to continue their conversation, pursuing the karaoke comment, though the way he phrased it suggested Virgil had other ideal plans.

“I’m sure you’d be able to hold your own, darling,” Cepheus suggested, reaching out to sweep Virgil’s soft hair from his face which was tilted up to regard him stood over the piano. “It crossed my mind,” he admitted, “I don’t want to bore you by a night in,” his fingers traced Virgil’s cheek, and a forefinger dragged beneath the younger man’s chin as they retreated. Virgil’s skin was smooth, youthful. It made Ceph see the creases in his own face when they ever faced a mirror together. Ones he had generally been able to ignore until youth presented itself for comparison.

“What would be relaxing to you?” He asked, reaching out to lightly hold Virgil’s shoulder. “If you answer bath, slippers and an early night I will have to assume you’re fibbing.” Not even Ceph was considering these, well, maybe just the slippers.

He held the other wizard's gaze, blinking slowly at the gentle fingers grazing his face. Cepheus had wonderful and patient hands. Vexingly patient.

"Relaxing to me?" he echoed with a slight pout, as if being asked to choose was in some way a great burden. "Would it be droll to say that anything you want would relax me?"

Virgil's gaze dropped closer to eye level, and he found himself reaching out to fiddle with the silver buckle of Ceph's belt - like he was fascinated by its perfectly ordinary floral engravings. "Don't answer that actually. Let me think...."

He wasn't used to this. There was always such a rush, before, with other people, to do things. Or to smoke gillyweed and then do things at a slower, sillier pace. What he discovered with Cepheus felt slow and deliberate, and he was still trying to figure out how that worked. Virgil's desires often showed themselves quickly, to his mortification.

But it was a pleasant kind of embarrassment. Largely because Ceph was simply pleasant to be around.

"I think we should put something on the Wireless," he glanced up now, hands going still on the buckle. "Maybe a drink too? A little harder than Alohamocha?" Virgil's eyebrows twitched suggestively above his smile. "And the sofa looks rather inviting."

Virgil laughed, then, dropping his hands and eyes altogether with a blush. "If that's not too far flung from karaoke in Soho, I mean."

“Would it be droll … anything you want would relax me?” Ceph’s lips formed a silent ’oh’ though he really shouldn’t be so surprised. Virgil did tend to know what he wanted and when. His hand on Ceph’s belt did not require words to convey direction.

But yet…

The wireless, alcohol and the sofa.

“Well, depends what comes on the wireless,” Cepheus replied, the fingers of one hand sliding up the back of his neck and through his dark mane of hair, moving to glance at the set to one side of them, “and that sofa makes up in comfort what it lacks in Soho style…”

He gave an exaggerated shrug, all a grin now, as if he’d just realised he had Virgil all to himself. It was odd how his mind came to that sudden conclusion every now and then. Virgil shifted from ‘Ariadne’s friend’ to ‘Ceph’s boyfriend’ and back without him realising. All thought of the week and the crumpled memo evaporated, replaced by Virgil’s face, chin lifted, expectant.

“Right, well, you choose the music,” he leaned down to plant a kiss on Virgil’s lips, and lingered, noses almost touching, “and I’ll mix us something a little harder, unless you weren’t talking drinks…” Ceph’s thumbs slid purposefully up the inside of Virgil’s thighs before he grasped midway.

He didn't know what it was specifically about Cepheus that made it so difficult for him to wear the same disguise he did around other people. Virgil, who often slipped in and out of different roles, found himself incapable of that defence the more time he spent with this wizard. A curtain had fallen between them two and the audience.

His Oscar Wilde flippancy, his sharp-tongued impudence. They came in spurts but for the most part he felt like the version of himself who opened doors into dreams, wearing periwinkle pyjamas.

            "... unless you weren’t talking drinks…"

"Ah," he gasped, sitting straighter at the jolt of lust sparked by Ceph's hands on his thighs.

Virgil's cheeks warmed at the growing arousal between his legs, and he gently rubbed his nose against the other man's - breathing in musk, faded cedar cologne.

He reached up to push his fingers into Cepheus' hair and kissed back before answering. "Should I speak plain?" Virgil didn't pull back by much; it was easier to hide his shyness when they were this close, his partner leaning over him.

"I want anything you want," his other hand reached again for the belt buckle, "as long as I can get on my knees for you sometime this evening. Please."

“Oh, you’ll be on your knees, and…” Cepheus leaned in, breath tickling Virgil’s ear as he whispered a request.

He had never felt he could before, but for all of his monogamy and lack of success with landing a partner, Cepheus had come to his senses so to speak. The morning he’d woken on the sofa to find Virgil, and his shirt, gone from the bedroom, he had confessed to his other house guests. His colleagues, friends, who had once or twice… or thrice … invited him to join them for something more had sat him down and told him to stop overthinking and do, quite literally. But Ceph had never had the confidence to match them, but with this new relationship with Virgil with its imbalance of age and expectation he had to lean in to that lust. Virgil wanted it, and he’d not made him regret it so far.

Well, they weren’t wearing costumes or anything…




“I’m wearing your lipstick!” Cepheus wiped at his face, some time later. He held his mouth open to stretch his cheek as he washed a smear of it off. “Not a complaint,” he followed up softly, looking past his reflection and smiling. Water dripped from his fingertips into the sink of warm water below in the modest bathroom. “Probably wearing it elsewhere…” He added, with a glance down his torso, biting his bottom lip between his teeth at the thought. The working week was banished and the weekend had arrived.

“It goes well with your coat, I keep meaning to say,” Ceph added, tugging the plug from the sink and reaching for a towel. Virgil could wear anything and look good in it, lucky sod. Lucky me.

He pressed his face into the towel, inhaling the scent of laundry soap: lavender, eucalyptus and patchouli. He turned on the spot to face Virgil and lowered the towel, hair all on end, smiling somewhat cheekily: “Need anything for your knees?”

He scooped up a dollop of balm in his fingers and smoothed it down his damp arms, laughing delightedly at Ceph's lipstick remarks.

Virgil kept a couple of toiletries at this flat for ease - always preening, he never neglected to clean up and anoint himself. The balm was lightly scented, a subtle vanilla beneath sandalwood, and he was enjoying the ritual. And enjoying the view, especially. He felt Cepheus looking at him in the reflection but his own gaze lingered with admiration on the older man's figure.

            "“Need anything for your knees?”

"Oh, only your kisses...." Virgil replied with equal facetiousness as he approached the sink and smoothed Ceph's hair back by running his fingers through it - Merlin he'd never get tired of that.

Something tickled at the back of his mind. He remembered, abruptly, standing at the sink in Adelaide's flat[1] four years ago. His eyes dropped hesitantly.

No, no. Not now; this was different. Everything was different, Cepheus was different. Virgil covered up his hesitation, hands finding Ceph's hips. He kissed his boyfriend, slow and affectionate.

Before being satisfyingly fucked, he could be very coy indeed. After, however, Virgil relaxed into something more smug - like the purring cat who got the cream. "Ugh," he exclaimed and grinned, drawing a finger down the dark hairs of Ceph's chest. "You're too fucking hot, I hope you know that."

His stomach grumbled suddenly over his words and he pulled a face.

"I probably should have eaten something proper at Alohomocha."

A cat couldn't live on cream alone, sadly.

1.	Summer 2008 - Coming From an Endless Place

Cepheus laughed happily, though still a little bashfully.
“Takes one to know one, darling.” He went to peck Virgil on the forehead with it, but his boyfriend pulled a face. Ceph had missed the worst of the grumble, so his expression looked crestfallen, assuming it was disgust at him rather than an empty stomach.

“I probably should have eaten something proper at Alohomocha,” Virgil elaborated and Ceph’s lips formed a quiet ‘oh’ in realisation.

“I thought… nevermind…” Ceph waved a hand to dismiss the confusion. “Best relocate to the kitchen, before you wilt on the bathroom floor.” He slid an arm round Virgil and nudged the back of his knee, allowing him to sweep the young blonde back on one foot for an overly dramatic final kiss. It led to giggling at his mischief before they

“If what I’ve got in doesn’t satisfy his highness, perhaps ordering from Rachawadee, or the owl brought a flyer for a new Italian place that has a dragon-fire pizza oven…” Naturally it had been high on the list of places to try for the dragon tamers, keen to confirm if this was a decent side-line for the reserves...

He let out a peal of laughter, kissed with such theatricality in the bathroom. His chest was full of delight. Cepheus was terribly fun to be around - and there was something carelessly erotic about the older man, that Virgil couldn't precisely describe. He felt a glutton, thrilled by glimpses of it in Ceph's mannerisms or glances.

Speaking of glutton.

In boxer shorts and one of his boyfriend's t-shirts, Virgil chatted while he opened and closed kitchen cupboards.

"I think," he said in an arch, deliberately posh voice, "that his highness has the makings of a brilliant toasted sandwich in your royal pantries." Something simple but delicious - a cheese toastie, onion chutney, good sourdough.

Virgil start taking down the things he needed while Claude wondered into the kitchen area to nosily investigate the noise. It was nice, this. Before he started dating Ceph, he had seen their age gap as more of an obstacle than attractant. Now there was a kind of charm to it, having a stable entity around whom he could orbit for a rest.

"Um, by the way..." he tried not to look up, examining the jar of chutney as if reading ingredients. "I bumped into Andromeda[1] in the lift the other day."

It wasn't what he wanted to discuss but Virgil wanted to be honest, to do this right. "I think I've been officially warned not to," his voice lightened, "cause problems for you. Or Ari."

The younger wizard popped open the jar and glanced at Cepheus, half-smiling. "Never thought of myself as dangerous," he mused thoughtfully.

1.	6th March - Nothing to Prove

“Sounds delicious,” Ceph agreed, “I make way for your culinary talents.” He gestured with both arms out to either side, and wiggled his hands in a pantomime gesture. He settled back on one of the stools sat at what passed as a breakfast bar between the kitchen and living room, and tickled Claude’s back with his bare toes.

“… I bumped into Andromeda in the lift the other day.” Virgil shared. Ceph looked up in surprise.
“Hopefully not too hard,” he smiled, softening his tone only because he detected a note of stress in Virgil’s voice. Ceph’s eyes slid to one side, mind busy recalling if his sister had mentioned. As was usual, they’d not seen each other during the week, and she’d not memoed him this information. Maybe it was nothing to worry about.

“I think I’ve been officially warned not to cause problems for you. Or Ari.”
“Oh!”

“Never thought of myself as dangerous.”
“You should never be underestimated, darling.”

His concerned expression softened into a reassuring smile. “I’m sorry if she was… herself… Blunt. She’s always been that way, even when she was a kid.” Andromeda was the one trailing her brothers declaring their mischief in a loud voice and asking why if she didn’t approve of it, or they didn’t include her. “She’s rather protective of family, especially lately.” He gave a sorry little shrug. He loved his sister unconditionally, but he didn’t want her to upset Virgil either.

“Was it incredibly awkward?” He probed, “do you want me to have a word?”

            “You should never be underestimated, darling.”

He smiled to himself as he spooned out some chutney and smeared it across a slice of bread. No, he shouldn't be underestimated, but Virgil liked to be; it was a strategic expectation to cultivate. There was no reason to do that with Cepheus, who he felt could see right through him.

The chat with Andromeda had been uncomfortable but his intentions were good, and he didn't truly think it was worth worrying over. Virgil shredded cheese over the chutney and closed the sandwich before looking up at his boyfriend's question.

"Have a wo-- no, of course not," he laughed incredulously, leaning over the countertop to quickly kiss Cepheus. "I only wanted to let you know.  It was awkward but.... it's also rather nice your sister cares so much."

There was no real malice behind the auror's confrontation. If Laidie had pulled the same stunt with Cepheus - the thought alone was nauseating. Virgil buried it and sliced his sandwich diagonally. "Anyway, I'm not out to cause problems for anyone. Andromeda has nothing to worry about."

His brand of troublemaking could wait politely at the door of this flat and never enter. He hoped.

"Voila!" Virgil lifted a half-piece, smiling. "Want a taste?"