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“Are you and Lloyd really in a relationship?”
It’s not the first time he had heard the question, it certainly wouldn’t be the last either.
“We are.”
“Are you sure?”
Javier resists every single cell in his body that urges him to glare scathingly at her majesty, believe it or not, he has some level of life preservation skills (even if that idiot says otherwise).
Instead, he takes a quick sip of his drink and sighs, “We have been together for a little less than half a year your Majesty.” Wordlessly, he thinks, ‘but I have loved him for far longer than that.
The queen snorts with all the dignity of an opossum before she downs her drink, it’s fairly unladylike but it’s not like Javier really cares. Not even as she laughs, hearty and free, clapping his back with enough force that would probably break Lloyd’s into a million tiny pieces.
Ha.
That’s kinda funny.
Javier pockets the thought away with all the other little useless trinkets of memories and thoughts he had dedicated to his lover. He can only hope that one day his master experiences the full weight of Alicia Magentano’s brute force on his person.
Javier pays her no mind, neither her words or her actions affecting him. He loves Lloyd, has loved him and will continue to love him with a certainty that would terrify him if his feelings were directed at anyone who wasn’t that rat bastard. He loves him so much, so naturally, that he doesn’t even notice the small smile on his face as he peers down into his cup.
Alicia does though, all traces of humour vanishing as he watches a knight, a trained killer, one of the greatest she has ever known, soften at the mere mention of his master. Javier Asrahan was a cold man, not unkind she might add, simply stoic and guarded in nature. He's easy on the eyes and quick to be charmed by, the perfect noble in everything but bloodline, it was no wonder that the man had amassed a following throughout Lorasia. Even so there was an unmissable difference between who he was and who he had to be, something many seem to have forgotten.
Alicia herself was a queen, weighted by her position and the lives of her country, she understood better than most what it meant to separate her personality from her work. The only person she had ever known to remain true to his spirit and still remain successful within the living world was the potato faced engineer who she has come to (unwillingly) rely on and care for.
They were good for each other, she realises, thoughts veiled by a leering grin that her companion is too lost in his own head to see. Chaos and energy balanced out, bright and unwavering yet calm and composed. Where Javier was reckless, Lloyd was cunning. Where Lloyd was cruel, Javier was merciful. She may not understand the two, probably never will if she's being honest, but she will not doubt the proof in front of her.
She will not question them for the second time.
—
There’s a letter in his hands and a rejection on his lips but the man in front of him can’t stop talking. He wants to be patient, to be kind and considerate towards his feelings, wants to hear him out till the very end but for the sake of both of them, he needs him to shut his god damn mouth.
“I’m in a relationship.”
The confessor, if that is the word for it, freezes.
“What?”
Javier inhales and says once more, as gently as possible, “I am in a relationship.”
“Oh.”
“I’m sorry.”
A flicker of emotions dances in the man’s eyes before it settles into dejection, “You don’t have to lie to me you know?”
The mab watches as silver brows furrow in what must have been feigned confusion as he responds, “I’m not though? I’m with Master-”
“I don’t need your pity, okay? If you don’t like me that way then just tell me straight to my face.” He isn’t angry, but he is upset, hyped up on adrenaline and completely and utterly devastated by his loss.
“But I really am-”
He doesn't want to hear it.
“Just. Go.” His voice is firm, firm enough that he is sure if he spoke that way to any other knight he would have been hit.
Silently, the other nods once, turning towards the centre of the street and making his way to whatever destination he had in mind.
The boy is dejected, that is for sure. He is aware of how unlikely it was that Sir Asrahan would have noticed a simple farmhand such as himself, but still, he had hoped. Hoped that maybe he would be the lucky one, but clearly, he was wrong, the knight had even resorted to lying about a relationship to get him off his back. He sighs, in an attempt to calm down, breathing in and resigning himself to watching the world go by.
He hadn’t noticed while he was confessing (of course he wouldn’t have, he was confessing for crying out loud) but there is a man, on the opposing side of the street, arms crossed and staring off into the distance, clearly waiting for someone. Said someone appeared to be the knight who had just broken his own heart.
He stares as the two converse, Sir Asrahan clearly explaining what had just happened before he is flicked in the forehead. He is affronted, clearly the knight is too seeing as he shoots daggers at him, which is fair because who on earth dared to harm someone as highly respected as the Javier Asrahan? He fumes on behalf of his crush as the brunette turns and walks away, the knight stone still with a hand on his forehead. It is only when the other man calls out for him thst Sir Asrahan comes back to life, following behind the other’s footsteps. His hand is still glued to where he had been flicked on but that is not what captures his attention. It is the happiness painted on pale lips as he follows his shorter companion and the silent revery that is embedded in his pupils. The other man is smiling too, he notes, a little quieter, but just as adoring, not that Javier can see it.
Maybe Sir Asrahan wasn’t lying after all.
—
It was safe to say that Arcos was worried for his son and Javier (not that he didn’t consider Javier as his own, but he didn’t want to pressure the boy just in case he didn’t feel the same way). The two were rather open about their relationship, never outright declaring it for the whole world to hear but neither denying it either. The only thing is that there wasn’t much of a relationship to be public about in the first place. Barely anything has changed, actually, now that Arcos thinks about it, nothing has changed at all!
The Count and Countess had only found out about their two boys’ relationship by accident, stumbling on the two during one of their late night rendezvous. Nothing explicit mind you, just a secret trip to the kitchens in the dead of night for some tea, if the head maid found out they were in the kitchens again Arcos would be dead on the floor and Marbella would have to bury his bruised, aching body. She was scary, even at the best of times.
The two, however, were beaten by a much younger couple, who they had quickly identified as their son and his knight. They couldn’t see much from behind, but they were quick to note the stack of paper to the left of their son and the gap, or lack thereof, between Javier and Lloyd. The former bending over the table, presumably sleeping while Lloyd continued on with his work.
Marbella approached carefully, Arcos not too far behind, as to not spook either of the two. His wife placed a gentle hand on the engineer’s shoulder, light and warm in a way that only Marbella could ever be, God he loved this woman.
Lloyd jolted, his eyes meeting his mother's before he relaxed.
“What are you doing here so late at night Mother,” he cranes his head back towards him, acknowledging him with a nod, “Father.”
“We could ask you the same thing, dear,” his wife’s eyes fall to the figure next to Lloyd, eyes flickering with what looks to be disbelief.
“Ah, I still had work to do and the bastard-
“Lloyd,” he warns sternly.
His son rolls his eyes, but there’s a fondness to it that Arcos hadn’t seen in him for quite some time, “Javier didn’t want to leave me alone. Stubborn idiot.”
Marbella gives him a gentle whack on the head before Arcos bothers to criticise him. There is still a lingering surprise in her eyes, one that Arcos shares, as they inspect the sleeping figure. Javier’s face is pressed right against Lloyd’s arm, close and intimate in a way that is foreign to a relationship between a knight and lord. Upon further inspection, he finds that Javier has been wrapped in a brown coat that looks suspiciously like Lloyd’s, which probably explains why his son is so scandalously clad in nothing but a translucent blouse. It is a strange and rather questionable sight to see, one he is sure there is a perfectly reasonable explanation for.
Lloyd whispers, most likely a little irked under their scrutiny, “there’s some tea in the pot over there.”
At this, Arcos pipes up, “I thought you didn’t like tea?” He knew that his son has changed rather rapidly from the drunkard to the man who was before him, but even now, Lloyd still hated tea with a vehemence Arcos did not bother understand.
“But he does,” he whispers, gesturing to Javier, reaching over with the hand he isn’t leaning on and gently threading his fingers through silver locks.
Carefully, Arcos replies, “You and Javier are rather close now aren’t you.”
With that Lloyd gives him a rather sly grin, raising his brow as he retorts, “Is that a problem? Are you afraid that me and him are going to give you and Mother a run for your money as the estate’s cutest couple?”
For all the silver plated glib his son had just thrown at him, there was an undeniable confession in his words, subtle and vulnerable and cautious. It’s a question of approval, one that both he and Marbella can see as clear as day.
The Countess speaks first, a little bit better at times as tender as these, “You have a long way to go if you and Javier want to get anywhere near where your father and I are at.”
There's acceptance laced in her words, something Arcos wholeheartedly stands by, especially as he observes the relief washing over Lloyd's face. No one ever really mentioned it but his son was quite stoic, if not even more so than Javier, so it was rather satisfying to watch all the tension bleed from his body.
He breaks eye contact and gazes back at the mop of hair he’s been brushing. His face might not show it but there is a smile, satin soft and hidden in his words, “I don’t know mother, I think we’re pretty damn close.”
As Arcos reflects on his memories, his heart calms. It was hard for it not to, considering the doting look his son had worn as he had stared at his so called lover. Arcos had never once thought of Lloyd as anything similar to either him or Marbella. No, not at all, with or without his personality shift Lloyd was always different but even he could not deny that in that moment, at the dead of night, with eyebags that looked more like carriages than anything, and calloused hands tangled in starlight hair, that he had looked terribly similar to his mother, with still lips and expressive eyes that conveyed nothing but love.
Arcos looks out from the balcony his eyes tracing the grounds for Javier and his ward. He watches the way Lloyd cuts what looks to be peaches and chucks them at the knight with abandon. Grin carefree, and a little bit obnoxious, breaking into laughter as a bit of fruit ends up in his hair. He keeps watching as Lloyd stands up from his spot under the tree and presses a slice into Javier’s mouth, still chuckling as Javier grumbles, just loud enough for Arcos to catch wind of it.
The two of them aren’t obvious as he and Marbella are, but he thinks, as Lloyd feeds Javier another piece of fruit, that the two of them would be fine after all.
—
“Everyone thinks we aren’t together.”
Javier is lying down next to him, spread out like a starfish under the stars, with one of his hands dangling off of Lloyd’s thighs.
Lloyd simply rolls his eyes, “Do you mind?”
“Ah,” Javier retracts his arm, “Sorry.”
“No, you idiot,” neither of them will mention the unspoken affection of Lloyd putting his arm back on his leg, “Do you mind that no one think’s we’re together?”
The knight ponders it for a minute before he shakes his head resolutely, “No, not really. I think they all just know that I could do better.”
“You bitch, I’m gonna hire a new boyfriend, I swear to God.” He’s about half way to standing up, to stomp off dramatically, but Javier is laughing, eyes crinkled into crescent moons and teeth bared in glee as Javier pulls his wrist down, never letting go of it as he sits up.
“You think anyone else could handle your bullshit,” he asks, shoulders firmly pressed together with their knees aligned.
“Of course they would, I’m a rich entrepreneur with more connections than hair! Who wouldn’t want me?”
Javier leans his head down on Lloyd’s shoulder, possessive and endearing, “Idiot.”
His master snorts, “I love you too.”
He looks up, eyes meeting Lloyd’s, “yeah?”
Their hands intertwine.
“Yeah.”