Obligations 2

Victor considered. Mirage had never given him free reign to do as he pleased like this before; he ought to take the opportunity. After all, he did want to speak with Theo for real. Not just as a setup for a trap.

Perhaps if he did, he'd clear...some things up. None of it had counted, Victor reminded himself. It had been Mirage, not him. Yet he couldn't deny that most of the illusion's words echoed his own sentiments, and...and....

When Mirage had accused Theo of wanting him to play cello again, Theo hadn't denied it. No, he'd reacted as if the false Victor had spoken the truth.

Without realizing it, Victor's hand curled into a trembling fist. He might have misinterpreted things; it had all happened so quickly. But he couldn't deny that he had fully expected Theo to shoot down the very idea.

And later...Victor remembered the pink diagram swallowing the entire lair, the ferocious blades of light whirling around the homunculus knight. His hand shook harder.

"You're still here?" Mirage's bitter snarl startled him. "Thought you'd jump at the chance to creep on your precious Theo, you disgusting brother lover."

His words stirred a faint curl of anger inside Victor, but it was easy enough to ignore. He looked at Mirage, huddled in the blankets and shivering, his eyes wild and haunted, and wondered if the demon had always been this small.

He should go see Theo. That was the entire reason he had joined the Infernal Legion. It wasn't like he owed anything to Mirage, and they both knew it; Victor had only accepted the contract because it would allow him to fulfill his true goal. But...but....

"Well? Why haven't you left yet?" For the first time, Victor noticed the rasp to Mirage's voice, as if he'd screamed himself hoarse.

What exactly had the Infernal Lord done to him? As soon as the thought crossed his mind, Victor wondered why he wanted to know. It had nothing to do with him.

"You're a real idiot, aren't you. Shouldn't have expected better from a human. But still. I thought the one reliable thing about you was your brother complex. Where's that gone now, hm? Well? Are you going to move or are you just going to stand there all day like a statue? Sorry, but I categorically veto this new addition to my interior decoration."

He was shivering even harder now, a hysterical edge shading his voice. Victor took in a deep breath, held it for several seconds, then released it.

An idiot, Mirage had called him. He was indeed.

"Actually," he said, looking Mirage in the eye, "I'm going to stay here."

"What?" Those golden eyes widened, making him look painfully young.

"I'm staying," Victor repeated, louder and more confident now. "It's my job."

Mirage's face contorted into a sneer. "What are you talking about? Your job is to obey my orders, and I just ordered you to go satisfy your depraved brother fetish to your heart's content."

"It was more of a suggestion than an order, actually." He raised his voice before Mirage could reply. "Even if you give the order, I won't listen. I believe my duty as your assistant takes precedence, Mr. Rose."

He'd let his guard down, so he didn't expect the next pillow that smacked him in the face. He stumbled more from surprise than pain, but quickly regained his balance.

"It's my job to ensure you're in good condition to do your job," Victor continued once he recovered. "It's fine if you want to clear your schedule for one day, if you even want to skip out on the interview. But you can't do this forever. Both as Michel Rose and Captain Mirage, you have obligations to fulfill."

"Obligations." Mirage's face contorted even more nastily, until he resembled a gargoyle more than a demon. "What a joke."

"It's true," Victor said. "If not to yourself, at least to those who depend on you. To the fans who adore you. To the troops who obey your commands."

To his surprise, Mirage unleashed a broken little laugh and buried his face behind a hand. "What troops? What commands?"

"I'm well aware that they're mostly useless, but they still serve you. I, as well."

Mirage slid his hand down, one eye peering out suspiciously between his fingers. "Are you saying you can't do anything unless I give you orders?"

"Yes." Some part of Victor was amazed by how clear his answer came. "Because you're my commander."

Slowly, Mirage's hand slid away from his face, hitting the mattress with a gentle little thump. Now, nothing hid his wide-eyed, bewildered expression from Victor. So strange. He was more used to seeing the haughty captain sneer and snarl than...than this.

For a while, the two locked gazes as if seeing each other for the first time.

Then Mirage turned his head to the side, hair swinging. "Tch. If you're going to be like that, then make yourself useful to me."

He looked back at Victor, this time wearing a much more familiar smirk – though it couldn't hide the tired cast to his eyes. "Come here," he said, beckoning with two fingers. "I'm drained of Levia. Help me recharge."

For some reason, Victor's heart thumped. "Are you certain?"

"I thought you said you would obey my orders. So don't question me." A semblance of his usual arrogance slid back into Mirage's voice and he tossed his head, revealing the smooth arch of his throat. The sight of the dark bruises marring the white skin made Victor's mouth dry.

His first instinct was to ask again, to make sure, but...but his captain had given an order. So Victor stepped forward, closing the distance between them.

He wasn't one for extensive foreplay; this had never been about passion, just business. So it caught him by surprise when he lifted his hand and, instead of pushing Mirage down onto the bed, he cupped the demon's face, curving his fingertips around the soft, smooth skin.

Mirage's eyes widened. But he didn't push Victor away. So Victor shoved everything else aside – his last fluttering doubts, his memories of Theo, any lingering regrets – and bent down and pulled his familiar into a kiss.