Sighing, Noctis stared at the ceiling. The light from the lamp cast dull shadows across the plaster—patterns he now knew by heart. Absentmindedly, he spun his knife between his fingers, then finally tossed it into the air and caught it at the last moment before the blade could land in his face. Barely had he caught it before he flung it upward again.
He was bored.
He was bored. For once, he actually had nothing to do, and for the first time he didn't know what to do with his time. The knife spun through the air. Noctis waited a heartbeat longer than before before catching it. The tip came dangerously close to his eye. Only at the very last moment did his hand snap forward to grab it.
But the excitement he expected never came.
No rush of adrenaline. No quickened pulse. Not even a twitch.
He tried again, letting the blade fall even later. The tip flashed in the light, coming closer and closer to his face.
At the last instant, he caught it again.
Nothing.
His heart beat as calmly as ever.
Annoyed, Noctis twisted his mouth. He had at least hoped to feel a little excitement. Instead, there was only the same sluggish, paralyzing boredom.
He wanted to see Isaac and annoy him; only he could drive away this boredom now, only he could make his heart race. Noctis sighed again.
"You're annoying," Vincent said dryly.
Noctis caught the knife without taking his eyes off the ceiling. "Why?"
"Do I need a reason?" Vincent flipped through a stack of notes on his desk without looking up. "For one thing, you've been hanging around here since last night. Then there's your constant sighing. And your mere presence." He briefly raised his gaze. "Would you like more reasons?"
"I don't see your problem," Noctis replied. "Just work."
He tossed the knife into the air again.
Vincent watched the blade's trajectory for a moment. "I certainly won't patch you up if you lose your eye," he said at last. "Besides, I am working. Perhaps I should send you on a mission if you have so much free time."
The knife came down again.
Noctis waited.
The tip almost touched his eye.
"Not in the mood," he scoffed, catching the blade.
He was just about to throw it up again when a metallic clang suddenly cut through the room. The knife was knocked out of his hand with a short, sharp jerk and landed several meters away on the floor.
Vincent lowered the hand he had thrown with.
A small metal pin rolled across the floor with a rattling sound.
"I need you with two functioning eyes," he said calmly. "Now stop that nonsense."
Noctis let his hand drop beside him onto the sofa and stared back at the ceiling. For a few seconds neither of them spoke.
Then Vincent pushed his papers aside.
"Alright," he said. "What happened?"
Noctis sat up abruptly.
"He threw me out."
Vincent raised an eyebrow. "Who? Isaac?"
"Yes," Noctis growled. "In the middle of the night. Can you imagine that?"
For a moment Vincent studied him in silence. Then the corner of his mouth slowly curled upward.
Because of the old scar running from the corner of his mouth across half his cheek, the grin looked more like a threat than a smile. Small children probably would have started crying.
"What did you do?"
"Nothing!" Noctis protested immediately.
Vincent just looked at him.
Noctis made an annoyed face. "Alright. I wanted to sleep with him. Or do it right there on the floor of his studio. It's not like we haven't done that plenty of times before."
Vincent leaned back.
"And?"
"And at some point he said I should leave because I was distracting him! I've maybe seen him in a mood that bad three times before."
Vincent stared at him for two seconds. Then he burst into deep, gleeful laughter. Noctis grabbed a couch cushion and hurled it across the room.
"Stop laughing!"
"So you're just sexually frustrated because he wouldn't let you near him?" Vincent asked in an exaggeratedly diplomatic tone that barely concealed how amusing he found the situation. "Has it really been that long since you two had sex, or what exactly is your problem?"
"Yesterday morning," Noctis scoffed. "And he still says I'm worse than a dog in heat."
Vincent slowly raised an eyebrow. "Is he wrong?"
Noctis stared at him for a moment, as if considering whether an argument was even worth it.
"No," he finally admitted with annoyance. "But that's not the point."
Vincent leaned back and laughed again, this time openly.
"You wouldn't be laughing if you knew what he looks like. Just seeing his face when he's turned on… and that moan of his…," Noctis said, rubbing his face in frustration. "Damn it, I can't think about anything but sex when I see him."
Vincent watched him silently.
"As long as you don't lose sight of your mission," Vincent replied dryly. "I'd like to meet him, but you're not making any progress."
Noctis sank back into the sofa.
"If he weren't so fixated on that damn boss, I would've brought him along a long time ago!" he grumbled.
"Yes, that guy really is a problem," Vincent agreed.
"No," Noctis immediately objected. "Isaac's pathological loyalty to that bastard is the problem." He shot Vincent a sideways glance. "Can I finally kill him?"
"Nope."
The answer came without hesitation. Vincent stood up and briefly stretched his shoulders, as if they were discussing the weather.
"The timing of his death has to fall on a very specific date," he explained calmly. "If he dies earlier, several years of preparation will have been for nothing."
Noctis grimaced.
"And besides," Vincent continued, "after that his son Noah would take over the clan."
Noctis groaned softly. "Right, there's that shrimp too."
"Do you really think Isaac would leave voluntarily then?"
Noctis thought about it for a moment.
He grimaced. "Probably not, no."
"Exactly."
Vincent grabbed his jacket, closed the laptop, and locked it together with several documents in his safe, securing it with a retina scan.
Noctis watched him suspiciously.
"What are you up to?"
Vincent put on his jacket.
"We're going out."
Noctis immediately sat up. "We? Where?"
Vincent glanced over at him briefly. "I've heard there's a café I absolutely need to see for myself."
For a moment, there was silence.
Then Noctis jumped to his feet as if someone had flipped a switch.
"You could've said that right away," he remarked, suddenly in a much better mood. Within a few quick steps he was already at the door. "Come on, hurry up. Or have your bones rusted from all that desk work?"
"Careful, or my stiff fingers might slip and drop my knife," Vincent replied, locking the door.
Noctis rolled his eyes.
"Nice try. Go threaten Moz instead. You'll probably get more of a reaction."
Vincent locked the door behind them.
"Not yet," he said with amusement. "I still need him."
Noctis snorted and glanced around the hallway, as if expecting Moz to emerge from the shadows somewhere.
"Where is he anyway? If he were here, my mood probably wouldn't be quite this bad."
Vincent was already walking down the corridor.
"He's busy. We still have quite a bit to prepare."
Noctis followed him.
"When do I have to get back to work?"
Vincent thought for a moment as they walked down the corridor. "Next week."
Noctis raised a brow as they left the base and the cool evening air met them.
"That soon?"
"I said I'd buy you time," Vincent replied calmly. "But for that, we have to move a few other things forward."
Noctis rolled his eyes and shoved his hands into his jacket pockets. "Fine by me."
"Noc," Vincent said.
He caught Noctis by the arm while walking. Noctis inevitably stopped.
"We need him on our side before hell breaks loose."
"I know," Noctis muttered. "Damn it, I'm really trying, but he's so damn stubborn."
Vincent watched him silently for a moment.
"If he's standing on the wrong side when the day comes, I can't guarantee anything."
Noctis' eyes narrowed.
"What are you trying to tell me?"
Vincent released his arm. "That you should hurry. I can buy you a little more time, but eventually things will start moving on their own, and then there's nothing I can do. Either he comes willingly that day—or he doesn't. I would still prefer it if he joined us voluntarily."
"Tsk," Noctis hissed. His jaw tightened in irritation. "If necessary, I'll take him with me against his will."
Vincent shrugged. "I can live with that."
"Damn," he muttered. "We've been watching him for so many years. It would be truly annoying if something unplanned happened in the end."
"Nothing will happen," Noctis promised darkly. "And I'll kill anyone who tries to hurt him."
For a brief moment Vincent studied him quietly.
Then he suddenly slung an arm around Noctis' shoulders and pulled him close with a firm jerk. With his free hand he ruffled Noctis' hair thoroughly.
"Hey!" Noctis snapped immediately. "Cut it out!"
He tried to break free while swatting at Vincent's hand.
But Vincent remained unimpressed. A crooked grin tugged at the scarred corner of his mouth.
Noctis shoved his hand away and tried in vain to get his hair somewhat back in order.
Vincent watched him with amusement.
"I can't wait to meet the guy who's got you this twisted up, little brother."
___
With a jingling bell, they entered Café Noir. It was already 11 a.m.—exactly the time when Noctis normally slept. However, he didn't feel tired. Staying awake for a day or two straight didn't bother him; he had been trained for that for years.
Accordingly, he stepped into the café with light strides and headed straight for the counter, where he usually sat whenever he visited Isaac at the café.
Isaac looked up. His movement faltered when he recognized Noctis.
"What are you doing here?" he asked, surprised. "Shouldn't you actually be asleep at this hour?"
Noctis leaned casually against the counter.
"I wanted to see you, darling," he said with a wide, shamelessly satisfied smile.
Isaac's mouth twitched slightly.
At least he doesn't seem angry anymore.
Vincent sat down beside him. The stool scraped across the parquet floor. He studied Isaac openly.
"Hey, about yesterday… I didn't mean to just…," Isaac began, but then he stopped and looked at Vincent.
For a brief moment, his eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly.
"Who's your friend?" Isaac finally asked in a noticeably cooler tone.
Vincent smiled.
That polite, charming smile—the kind that usually made people trust him immediately.
"My name is Vincent," he said calmly. "I'm a friend of Noctis."
He held out his hand to Isaac. It was always surprising how easily a lie slipped from his lips.
Isaac stared at Vincent's hand for a moment.
"Isaac."
He accepted the handshake hesitantly. The grip was brief and firm. Barely had he let go of Vincent's hand when he studied him again.
"A friend, huh? Strange. I've never heard anything about you," Isaac said bluntly.
Noctis revised his earlier thought. Isaac was definitely angry—just for a different reason. Was he actually jealous right now? The thought nearly made Noctis grin. What would he say if he found out Vincent wasn't a friend, but his brother?
Vincent leaned forward slightly, an amused smile on his lips.
"Oh really? What a pity. I've already heard so much about you."
Isaac shot Noctis a brief, annoyed look before turning back to Vincent.
"Well then," he said dryly, "what do you want?"
His entire posture made it clear what he thought of Vincent's presence.
Vincent remained unfazed.
"Why so cold?" he asked with amusement. "I specifically asked Noctis to bring me along so I could meet you."
Isaac raised an eyebrow. "Good for you. Then the interest seems to be rather one-sided."
Noctis couldn't help it—he had to laugh. Isaac was behaving exactly as he had imagined. Isaac hated making new acquaintances, and he was defensive toward anyone who tried to get close to him.
A moment later Vincent joined in.
A quiet, genuine laugh.
"You're pretty direct," he said with a grin. "I like you."
Isaac looked back at Noctis.
His expression clearly said: What the hell did you drag in here?
"Where did you even find him again?"
Noctis smiled innocently.
"I've known him for quite a long time," he replied. "In fact, we've known each other longer than the two of you have known each other."
Isaac's gaze drifted back to Vincent.
"Is that so?" Isaac murmured. He studied Vincent, then finally sighed. "Well? What do you want?"
Vincent leaned casually against the counter.
"A caramel macchiato for me, please."
Isaac looked him up and down again.
"You don't look like someone who drinks that."
Vincent gave a crooked smile.
"You'd be surprised what's in me."
Noctis had to suppress another grin.
Isaac, meanwhile, still looked as if he would very much like to politely escort Vincent back out the door.
"Thanks. No interest," Isaac replied curtly. His gaze shifted to Noctis. "The usual for you?"
Noctis rested his chin on his hand and smiled at him.
"Gladly, darling."
Isaac's mouth twitched almost imperceptibly.
"One moment," he said, turning toward the coffee machine—but not without casting Vincent another suspicious, slightly annoyed glance.
The hiss of the steam wand briefly filled the room.
Vincent leaned a little closer to Noctis.
"That went quite well," he murmured. "I think he likes me."
Noctis grinned crookedly.
"I wouldn't be so sure."
After all, Isaac knew very well who he belonged to.
Vincent folded his arms on the counter and now watched Isaac from behind as he worked with focused concentration. His gaze wandered over Isaac's shoulders, the slim waist, the calm movements of his hands.
"Hard to believe he lets even you get close," Vincent murmured thoughtfully. "Do you think he'd let me have a bite too?"
Noctis immediately jabbed his elbow into Vincent's side.
"Forget it," he hissed. "I don't share."
"Ow," Vincent said calmly, rubbing his ribs. An amused smirk played on his lips. Then he raised an eyebrow.
"Not even with your brother?"
Noctis made a disgusted face.
"Especially not with you. I love you, but the thought alone makes me sick."
Vincent chuckled softly.
"Too bad. I like it when they fight back."
His grin widened.
"Don't worry. I won't steal your beloved from you. The honor between brothers must remain sacred, after all."
Noctis rolled his eyes.
"As if I'd let you get any closer to him than this counter."
The small bell above the door rang as the next customer entered the café. All three of them turned toward the newcomer at the same time.
Why is that cop here again?
His good mood evaporated instantly.
The man stepped in as if the place belonged to him. Calm, attentive, with the gaze of someone accustomed to noticing everything around him.
By now, Noctis could hardly stand the sight of that face anymore.
He was the last person Noctis wanted anywhere near Isaac again.
Isaac greeted him briefly and continued preparing the drinks for Noctis and Vincent.
The cop, however, shot Noctis a provocative look and then walked toward the table where he had sat the last time. Although the café was arranged so guests could keep their privacy, they could now see each other perfectly well.
Vincent watched the man with interest.
"Do you know each other?" he asked curiously.
"Barely," Noctis growled. He studied Vincent from the side, who was now staring at the cop.
"Will you introduce me to him?"
Noctis grimaced.
"Why the hell would you want to meet him? The guy's a cop."
"No idea," Vincent said with a shrug. A dark smile played around his lips. "I like his gaze. Besides, his eye color is really pretty. It makes you want to ruin him right away."
"I warned you. Do whatever you can't help doing," Noctis said indifferently.
Isaac set the two coffee glasses down on the counter in front of them.
"Do you need anything else?" he asked coolly.
"No, thanks," Vincent said. He smelled the caramel macchiato. Isaac had added whipped cream on top and drizzled extra syrup over it. "That looks good."
Noctis smirked. "You sure you want to drink that? You might get a sugar shock."
Vincent shrugged.
"Of course. After all, Isaac made it especially for me."
He took the first sip, taking his time with it, then set the glass down again. Then he looked at Isaac as if a thought had just occurred to him.
"Say, Isaac. Wouldn't you like to go out with the two of us sometime?"
Isaac raised an eyebrow almost imperceptibly.
"I know a pretty quiet bar," Vincent continued. "Noctis said you don't particularly like crowds."
"Thanks, but I don't go out with people I've just met," Isaac replied curtly. "Noctis knows that too."
"Come on, Isaac. A couple of drinks can't hurt," Noctis said. He shot him a meaningful look. "I'll take you home afterward."
Isaac pressed his lips together in irritation.
"Why the hell does everyone suddenly want to go for drinks with me…?" he muttered more to himself.
He thought about it for a moment, then sighed quietly.
"I'll think about it."
"I'm looking forward to it," Vincent said with a winning smile.
The smile, however, visibly bounced off Isaac. He snorted briefly, turned away, and went back to work. Shortly afterward he prepared another coffee.
Noctis' gaze followed him automatically.
Isaac placed the cup on a small tray, walked across the room, and brought it to the cop. Noctis wished he were closer to them so he could hear their conversation better, but unfortunately only a few fragments reached them when one of the two spoke louder. Still, he watched with considerable satisfaction as Isaac set the coffee cup down with clear annoyance, grabbed his tray, and turned to leave.
But the cop jumped up and grabbed Isaac's wrist. With a quick, irritated motion, Isaac pulled his wrist free.
"Can't we talk about it?" the cop asked. "What I did really wasn't okay. Can you forgive me?"
Noctis couldn't hear what Isaac answered, but his expression said enough. He looked neither enthusiastic nor particularly inclined to accept the apology. Noctis frowned slightly.
Isaac had never told him they had argued.
Isaac crossed his arms over his chest. He said something—several sentences, in fact—and while he spoke, the policeman's expression grew increasingly guilty.
Noctis would have given anything to hear what Isaac was telling him right now. But Isaac wasn't the kind of person who raised his voice in public.
Though that might also be something reserved only for Noctis: loud, emotional arguments followed by reconciliation.
The cop's gaze drifted toward Noctis. A small, provocative smile played on his lips.
What the…?
Noctis' eyes slowly narrowed.
What the hell was going on between those two?
Noctis was just about to jump off his stool and step in when a loud, demonstrative slurping sound came from beside him. Vincent drained his cup with one last long pull.
"Damn," he murmured with satisfaction, setting the cup down. "This is better than television."
He licked the whipped cream from his upper lip and leaned comfortably against the counter, his gaze still fixed on Isaac and the cop.
"Tell me," he continued thoughtfully, "what exactly was the relationship between you two again?"
The corners of his mouth twitched.
"I thought you didn't share."
Noctis' gaze remained fixed on the scene across the room.
"I don't," he growled.
"Well," Vincent drew out slowly, "but something is clearly going on between your darling and that cop."
"Shut up," Noctis hissed. "There's nothing going on."
Yet even as he said it, he watched closely.
Isaac was just running a hand over his face. His posture seemed less tense than before. His shoulders were no longer quite as stiff, and his arms now hung loosely at his sides.
He raised a finger and spoke to the cop again. The cop nodded, and Isaac raised a second finger. He seemed to be listing something before crossing his arms over his chest again.
The cop somehow looked relieved. He stood up and took Isaac's hand in his.
This time Isaac didn't shake him off.
But why didn't he?
Jealousy rose instantly in Noctis.
"Whatever's going on there, that cop doesn't seem uninterested in men. Do you think I have a chance?"
Noctis' head slowly turned toward him. His gaze was dark.
"Then take him," he whispered sharply. "Before I permanently knock his lights out."
Vincent raised an eyebrow slightly. Noctis looked back at Isaac.
"So far I've only held back for Isaac's sake," he added. "But after what I'm seeing here, my tolerance is dropping rapidly."
Vincent folded his arms behind his head and stretched comfortably.
"It seems to me," he said with audible amusement, "our little kitten is going to have a rough night ahead of him."
Noctis didn't reply.
If his brother only knew how right he was with that remark.
His gaze found Isaac again.
Isaac was still speaking with the cop.
His posture remained somewhat distant, his arms partly crossed, yet he seemed noticeably more approachable than he had been just a few minutes earlier.
Noctis' hand slowly clenched into a fist on the counter.
His knuckles turned white.
I'm curious what you'll have to say about this later, my dear Isaac…