Chapter Text
Nothing happened for weeks.
The expected (promised) teasing didn’t come.
Percy didn’t mention anything about it, not what Vax had said in the cave nor a follow up to the gunslingers own response—I think you’re pretty too—didn’t so much as smirk at Vax after they were dug out. Not even a little bit. Not even once. Not even when the others backs were turned, not even when Vax frowned at him in baffled suspicion because really what in the hells was he supposed to think? It was incredibly suspicious. Vax could have brought it up himself, he supposed, could have asked Percy outright.
Except no.
There was absolutely no way he was doing that.
This was far too impeccable a guise to be accidental because Percy acted as if nothing unusual had happened during the cave in. To be honest Vax had never known that his friend had such a good poker face, found himself both very impressed by it and also a little scared. It was a seamless performance.
Except Vax knew better, because he knew Percy—
He hadn’t forgotten.
He was plotting.
This was classic scheming. And yeah, Vax had always known Percy was a devious little bastard, even before the man had let him ramble his every thought right to his face for who knows how long, but this just proved it.
Which meant Vax needed to keep an eye on him.
In truth, given everything that had happened—or, rather everything that had been said—observation had been his initial strategy anyway. Unfortunately this plan had quite the significant downside in that it immediately aroused the suspicion of his friends. Or, rather, one friend in particular. It was a little embarrassing that it didn’t even take until they’d left the cave. Pike had healed Vax’s concussion, as well as the residual ache in his shoulder, leaving him pain free but with the remnants of blood in his hair which, yeah, disgusting. The group preceded to set off once more, quickly moving through the rest of the tunnel system to return to the open air. Percy once again wearing his coat, walking alongside Keyleth all pretty eyed and entirely, frustratingly, unruffled.
Vax refused to let his guard down.
Especially since he didn't know how far Percy was willing to take this little act of utter obliviousness. They’d not been walking for more than a minute before Scanlan interrupted Vax’s new found vigilance—read: staring contest—with Percy’s back to murmur. “Are you planning to murder Percy?”
“What? No?”
The gnome didn’t seem convinced. “Just checking.”
Vax spared a moment to be thankful that at least the bard had whispered his accusation.
Retaliation, when it did come, came subtly.
It took place exactly three weeks after what Vax had since dubbed the Cave Incident (not very imaginative sure, but it was descriptive). For reasons entirely unknown to the entirety of the civilised world, and very telling of his affinity for villainy, Percy’s chosen battlefield appeared to be breakfast.
Vax would later judge this to be rather underhanded.
At the time though he was far too busy being taken off guard to make such damning moral assessments. Percy arrived early, as was his custom, and while that was quite normal the rest of his behaviour absolutely was not.
To put it simply; Percy had no business looking so damn good at breakfast.
Apparently he’d picked up some new clothes—a waistcoat paired with a new cravat—both of them a shade that brought out the startling blue of his eyes. No coat today either, and yes they happened to be inside so it could be argued that wasn’t unusual, but still…this was showing off. It couldn't be anything else. Vax was staring, he knew he was; taking it all in, the insinuating fit of his shirt, crisp and white and tantalising for all it was showing absolutely no skin. It could have been a normal day, the benign result of an equally benign shopping trip, completely and utterly innocent, if Vax hadn’t remembered what had come out of his own mouth in the cave, if he didn’t know that this was a direct response to it.
He was almost impressed.
It was a pretty strong opening move.
Though it seemed all out warfare was not yet officially declared. Or at least Percy proved patient enough to resist the urge to check if his throwing down of the gauntlet had had the intended effect. Because he didn’t even look in Vax’s direction until after he’d poured himself a cup of tea and buttered a piece of toast, delicately resting the knife on his plate without a care in the world.
But when those eyes glanced up from under his lashes—from behind those delicate gold rimmed glasses, the bastard—Percy allowed himself a smirk.
Vax refused to be baited.
He kept his floundering entirely internal, darted his gaze away before he could be caught starting, and in the end he wasn’t even the one to ask. They weren’t alone after all, and Keyleth had no reason to share Vax's reservations. She was a non-combatant in this war, practically a neutral party, and so had no reason to hesitate to comment. “Hey Percy is that new?”
It was then that Percy actually sought out Vax’s gaze, caught his eyes at the exact moment he'd judged it safe to indulge in some more staring—damn it he wasn’t supposed to be caught, this was supposed to be free from his own involvement—incredibly nonchalant about the whole thing when he answered Keyleth’s question. Percy smiled, looking Vax directly in the eye as he said, “Thought it was time for a change.”
“Looks nice.” Keyleth said.
“Thank you,” Percy glanced away from Vax to smile at her, soft and warm, then those eyes flicked back. And because Percy was a wicked, terrible (terribly hot) man he said. “Vax…what do you think?”
“Yeah. Nice.”
Vax thought he did an excellent job at sounding natural thank you very much.
Percy's smile widened; quietly pleased in a way that Vax couldn’t help but find pleasure in, a light in his eyes he found he enjoyed basking under even as he still didn’t understand what exactly was happening. “Good.”
Yeah.
This was retaliation.
Percy was far too smug for it to be anything else.
The next time Vax wasn’t actually sure it was on purpose.
Percy was just very, very drunk.
To be fair they’d all been drinking, had stopped in a tavern to relax a little, but there’d not been enough room for them all to sit at a table together. They'd been forced to split the party. Which should have been an ominous sign in and of itself. But Vax had ignored said sign of danger, had been sat at a table with the majority of the group and so had grown used to a certain level of intoxication.
His friend had gone beyond that though.
In hindsight it was perhaps stupid of them to have left the two youngest members of their group together. Percy and Keyleth could be deceptive little trouble magnets, the picture of innocent responsibility to your face but prone to unhinged mischief when you took your eyes off them for even a second. Vax couldn’t quite remember how it had happened, or when they realised it happened, only that at some point Pike tilted her head and peered searchingly at them all.
She blinked. “Where’s Percy and Keyleth?”
“Corner?” Grog said.
The goliath was right. Percy and Keyleth had indeed been drinking together in the corner—probably by design—somehow progressing from pleasantly buzzed to absolutely wrecked without anyone noticing. Scanlan volunteered (i.e. lost the game of stone, paper, shears) to go get them. Vax felt no sense of trepidation at this and so was woefully underprepared for what followed. They were both giggling when they wobbled back to the group, leaning against each other for support, laughter pausing only when they took a break to whisper in each other’s ears before giggling again.
Percy’s coat was off.
Vax would like it noted that he noticed this in a very platonic, very friend-like way.
It wasn’t his fault that it was so unusual to see his friend so underdressed. And now it had happened twice in the span of a few weeks (three if counting the cave). That was worth mentioning. It was an important fact for his defence. Everyone knew that Percy was practically allergic to impropriety, always so impeccably well mannered, even when he was insulting you he'd do so with a crisp sort of poise. So, with that established, Vax would also like to clarify that his eyes were very platonically drawn to how one of Percy’s nice new waistcoats was half unbuttoned—this one a lovely soft grey, glittering with little silver threads—the white shirt beneath it untucked and the collar askew.
His cravat was hanging loose around his neck.
And, well, ok Vax would be willing to admit that then his thoughts most definitely took a turn—would challenge anyone’s thoughts not to, if they’d been sat there with Percy looking like that—the direction leading into a headfirst dive of a cliff and therefore vacating safe, friendly territory quite completely. The fall was at least seventy percent willing, but Vax had to admit it was no graceful descent, more a belly flop really, slamming straight into the less than platonic thought that Percy looked like he’d been interrupted mid fuck.
Looselimbed, leaning against Keyleth with a languid sort of carelessness, and oh but Percy was utterly delicious while rumpled.
Enticing as always and here he was half unwrapped.
There was the barest hint of skin exposed by the rumpled collar, a sneak peak of the hollow of his throat. Percy’s hair was dishevelled, strands of white wild as if he’d been tugging on it, a clue to what it might look like if someone else had been tugging on it, cheeks the slightest bit flushed, a soft pink dashed across fine cheekbones…
They’re both flushed with alcohol and it's painted a delicate pink flush across Percy’s sharp cheekbones, a softer shade than the red of his lips. He’s so pale, all pale skin and even paler hair, eyes the blue of topaz, and Vax can’t stop admiring the contrast of that soft blush. So subtle, tempting him to see if he could get it to flare red. It was familiar; Vax had seen that blush before, had seen it up close, had done more than look, had trailed his fingers across it.
And to top it off: Percy was laughing.
Shoulders shaking as he tried and failed to suppress it. His face so soft, utterly relaxed, rare to see him so carefree, happiness so beautiful—
Vax's tankard slipped from his hand.
It seemed to fall awfully slowly for all that didn’t help him catch it. Vax watched it land on the table, some of the alcohol sloshing out while it resettled, blinked because he had no idea how it had happened. Weird.
Vax didn’t drop things.
Everyone else was either too drunk to notice or hadn’t been watching in the first place. Well, almost everyone, because it was just Vax’s luck that Vex was the one who’d caught him. Eagle eyed as she was. His sister elbowed him sharply in the side, “What’s that about?”
“Nothing.”
He reached for his drink, fumbled once more for the handle.
Percy and Keyleth were still giggling.
Vex cornered him the next morning.
It seemed she’d found his response unsatisfactory.
Or, more accurately, Vex caught him in a moment of weakness when she decided to ambush him for an impromptu interrogation before breakfast. Which was so incredibly underhanded of her—honestly, what was it with people and staging their attacks at breakfast? was nothing sacred?—it was because Vax was surrounded by heathens, wasn’t it? This was to be counted as an unapproved and immoral method of warfare. Should be outlawed really. Judged as an instant forfeit. Vax would have to tell her that, would be doing so later, currently a little preoccupied as he found himself squinting up at Vex after she threw open the door to his room and invited herself in.
As previously mentioned—this was very uncivilised.
He’d been sleeping.
Vex seemed entirely uncaring of this very important fact. Just ignoring it entirely. Acting as if sleep had already been granted its allotted time. In fact, Vex seemed strangely affronted at his reaction; she stood beside the bed and frowned down at Vax as if he was the one who’d burst into her room. “You’ve been acting weird.” Vex declared with unnecessary aplomb. “Don’t think I didn’t see you last night.”
“Can’t this wait?” Vax said, well, mumbled. “’m tired Stubby.”
“No. You were staring.” Vex paused significantly, as if a second of silence would lend her next sentence the desired gravitas. “At Percy.”
“No I wasn’t.” Vax lied, sitting up with a scowl. So, she’d noticed more than his uncharacteristic clumsiness had she? “Honestly sister, Scanlan said the same thing after—”
Oh hells.
It was too late. Her eyes had already lit up.
“I knew it!” Vex beamed as he stared blearily up at her, entirely nonplussed by her sudden enthusiasm. Her confident tone was that of the very self-assured, still left him wondering what conclusion she’d even drawn, because as far as he knew he hadn’t said anything to clue her in on the exact details of that particular instance of him being caught by their gremlin gnome friend. It wasn’t unusual for them to begin conversations with each other in the middle of a thought but Vax found that for once he was a little lost. “I knew something happened in that cave!”
Wait. The cave.
Oh dear.
Concussion induced word vomit wasn't required here. Vex caught the change in his expression like the traitor of a twin she was and beamed even more. Her grin so very delighted. Vax scowled, sullen because of course he’d given himself away. What else had been going to happen?
Vax had just woken up.
And now he’d been silent for too long. The lack of a rebuttal only spurred her on. His sister was still grinning, “Tell me tell me tell me.”
“No!”
Vex’s eyes narrowed.
There was a moment of warning, a shift in her stance, obvious even if she hadn’t been related to him, and yet Vax took it all in with a dozy sort of focus. Predicted it all in an instant and still fell prey to it like a hapless oracle. She lunged; tackled him, ripped the covers off the bed to get better access to her victim, tickling viciously at his sides, and Vax had a split second to realise just how screwed he was before he dissolved into peals of helpless laughter as he tried to shove her off.
It was futile.
He was at a severe disadvantage. Not only was he not wearing his armour, but Vax was tired, and actually quite hungover now he thought about it, and gods did she jab hard, all reasonable things that stacked the deck against him and assured his defeat.
Still—
“Won’t tell you anything.” Vax gasped defiantly, trying to slap her hands away.
Vex didn’t even pause.
“You say that now.”
It was an ominous statement by itself.
But there was evil in her eyes.
Vax somehow managed to escape with his secrets intact.
It was a miracle to be sure, but there’d been an unexpected reprieve. Though to be honest Vax was still stunned he’d managed to slink away without revealing anything bar what Vex had already managed to weasel out of him.
It wouldn’t have happened without help. Accidental to be sure but Vax wasn't going to quibble. His breathless laughter had drawn the attention of their friends, had enticed them from their rooms to circle like vultures above a fresh kill, sensing weakness, and Vex had seemed to know whatever he was keeping secret wasn’t something he wanted shared. She seemed to respect that. Or maybe she just wanted to be the first and only one to know of it. Siblings calling dibs and all that. So rather than inviting anyone else to join her attempt to tickle him to death and/or into capitulation, as soon as they’d appeared to investigate she’d backed off with the promise of further questioning in her eyes.
It was a victory.
Not one he’d had any true part in but Vax would take it. He knew it was only a stay of execution, guaranteed not to last very long, but Vax found he couldn’t let himself be distracted by Vex. He had to keep an eye on Percy too, because the drunken escapade might have been accidental but Vax knew Percy was still far from done.
How was he so certain of this?
Well, Vax already knew where he was getting his ideas.
An unfair advantage granted to him via Vax’s concussion. He had the creeping suspicion that this was going to turn into a play by play of what he’d said when they’d been trapped in the cave. He wondered which of them Percy would choose next. It didn’t take long to find out; this time it wasn’t new clothes, or a mostly accidental demonstration of how rumpled he could look in them.
It was a second pair of glasses.
Yeah. Was he seriously going to go through every damn thing Vax had said?
…was it bad that he was kinda flattered that Percy remembered?
“Special occasion?”
“Someone told me I might get punched.” Percy said, smiling softly as he slipped the new frames onto his face. “What do you think of them?”
Vax considered.
The glasses were certainly more suited for a fight than the others, more like goggles to be fair, only ones that completed a transformation from mild and unassuming to dangerous. Percy doesn’t really need help with that, a shift in stance, a quirk to his lips, but this flipped that switch as easy as turning off a light. They made him look like he’d already calculated the odds in a fight and knew he had the upper hand, had slipped the goggles down over his eyes because he’s got his pepperbox cocked and is ready to take a shot.
“Vax?”
Oh. How long has he been quiet? Vax hummed rather than jolting back into speech, played it off rather than startling to an answer, looked Percy over slow and contemplative. He was going to try for some revenge of his own.
Vax winked.
“Yeah, you’ll do.”
Warfare was a tricky business.
Watching out for whatever Percy was plotting was hard enough without the additional need to keep Vex from questioning him about what happened in the cave.
“Brother—”
“I must go.” Vax blurted out. “I’ve got to…iron my socks.”
He left the room to the sound of Vex’s laughter.
“Real smooth brother.”
Vax had forgotten about Scanlan.
No, but seriously, Vax had completely forgotten about Scanlan.
Just completely overlooked the fact that the little gnome had noticed something in that cave, even if that something had been mistaken as a murder plot, and of course he'd be instigating plots of his own in response. Scanlan was a sneaky, underhanded player in this game he should never have even been dealt into, someone Vax should never have lost track of. Vax knew he only had himself to blame for that one. He really had given himself away back at the cave, hadn’t he, but in his defence he’d been concussed at the time. Well. Freshly healed from a concussion. With any luck whatever interest Scanlan had was just going to be lingering suspicion from the assumption Vax had been planning a murder.
It wasn’t like Vax had been at all suspicious since.
(Though he’d thought the same about Vex—but she had the unfair advantage of being his twin, so that didn't count.)
But apparently Scanlan’s own play for answers came in the form of a dare.
Taking the gnome up on any challenge was almost always guaranteed to be a Bad Idea, leading to extreme embarrassment and/or monetary loss. The risk was even greater while drinking, which Vax had been stupid enough to do not three days after the New Glasses Incident. Apparently he hadn’t yet learned that alcohol plus Percy equalled danger even when Vax wasn’t actively inebriated. So, yes, in hindsight Vax would swear the alcohol was to blame this time too—well, that and whoever had brought those damn cherries—discounting how he’d barely had more than a glass himself.
It was probably irrelevant.
Because Scanlan had definitely had at least four and he was the one who’d instigated this anyway.
Instigated how you ask? Instigated what?
Well—
“Betcha can’t tie a cherry stick into a bow with your tongue.”
Yeah.
As Vax said: dangerous. Because Scanlan really announced this to an audience of two—Vax and Percy—and the stunned silence that followed only made Scanlan grin in belated triumph. As if whatever was going on in that head of his had already been proven right.
Though Vax was no closer to figuring out what that was.
To be honest Vax was still in the middle of wondering where on earth such a challenge had even come from when the gnome proved how far he was ahead, already plucking a cherry stalk from the plate of fruit and offering it tauntingly. Vax took it from him while rolling his eyes, put it in his mouth, and after a few seconds revealed that he in fact could tie a cherry stick into a bow with his tongue.
Then he made the mistake of looking over at Percy.
Not even in challenge, though maybe a little bit in triumph, but also because in that moment it was where his eyes wanted to wander, and everything started to go downhill from there.
And not just because Percy was wearing another new waistcoat.
Though Vax would pause this retelling to point out that it was quite lovely; shimmering with little threads of gold, a subtle gleam of delicate embroidery. It suited him just as wonderfully as the others.
Right. So, anyway, the real reason it started to go downhill was because Percy smiled, the devious bastard, all mysterious in that stupidly attractive way—
He now held a cherry stalk of his own between two slim fingers.
A cherry stalk. Which Percy was planning on tying in a knot. With nothing but his tongue. After he’d put said cherry stalk into his mouth.
Yeah. This was a joint endeavour, whether they knowingly worked together or not, because Scanlan may have instigated this but Percy was the one currently weaponizing cherries.
This wasn’t a situation Vax had ever thought he’d need preparation for, let alone a defence against, and so he was as vulnerable as an unlocked door to an enterprising thief. Vax watched dumbly as Percy put the stalk into his mouth and tried to pull himself together even as his internal monologue became somewhat frantic. No. Not frantic, not frantic or flustered or anything of the sort because there was no reason to be any of that, none whatsoever. This was a normal friend thing. Just a little bit of healthy competition. Yeah, maybe it involved some harmless flirting but otherwise just a normal dare.
So normal.
Vax knew what he should do. He should say something teasing—except, ok, maybe not, do not make a joke about what he could do with his tongue do not because holy shit, that mouth.
He’s at just the right height, could just pull his chair over a bit and—shit.
Fuck.
Oh no.
He needed to back up right now. This train of thought was rapidly getting away from him. Thank fuck he'd not thought of this when they'd been trapped in the cave. Thank the gods he wasn't thinking about it now. Nope. Do not even think about what Percy can do with his tongue. Do not think about what he could do to you with his tongue.
New plan.
Don’t think thoughts at all.
That was proving difficult. There was a smirk sharp at Percy’s lips.
There was a cherry stalk in his hand.
Successfully tied into a knot.
Was Vax blushing? He hoped he wasn't blushing. He needed to calm down. It was of vital importance. Vax needed to calm down right now. Which meant he needed to look away from the pretty pink of Percy’s still smirking lips. He needed to stop thinking about how that mouth might feel on his skin, on his lips, his neck, his—
Vax did the only thing he could think off.
Unfortunately being spurred into action didn’t mean he’d made anything even close to approaching a good choice. Because in response he’d picked another cherry and issued the challenge before he’d even thought of what he was letting himself in for. The tease rolled off of his tongue far too effortlessly. “Lucky try, Freddy, but can you do it again?”
“Can you?” Percy replied, a brow raised.
“You should race!” Scanlan interjected, sounding absolutely delighted at this turn of events and wasn’t that a harbinger of doom. Vax was glad someone was enjoying himself, as he currently had no idea what he had been thinking and was wondering if there was some way to reverse time. He hoped Scanlan hadn’t seen his thoughts playing across his face, but that also meant his friend couldn’t pick up on his desire to backtrack and so— “Whoever does it the fastest wins.”
“Wins what?”
Scanlan shrugged. “Dealers choice?”
Percy hummed thoughtfully. “Yes. Vax issued the challenge so I believe he should get to pick the prize.”
Let it be clear that Vax wasn’t proud of where his mind went.
It was very important for that fact to be understood. There’d been many, many fascinating ideas that had sprung into his mind just in the last few minutes, even more so now Percy gave him the choice of prize, spoke the offer in that lovely voice of his. The only saving grace was that this time Vax did actually have enough sense to prevent his first thought from coming right out of his mouth.
That seemed to be all sense did for him though because he shrugged. “A favour?”
Percy tilted his head. “Can it be anything?”
Was Vax imagining the flirty undercurrent in Percy’s tone?
Yes. He absolutely was. That wasn’t even a question. It might have been retaliation but it wasn’t actual flirtation. Just a reminder of the stakes and that meant—
“Within reason.” Vax replied.
“Oh of course…’within reason’,” Percy smiled; playful, gorgeous—no not gorgeous, definitely not that—a standard human expression that was in no way out of the ordinary. “I accept your challenge and will enjoy collecting my favour.”
“Confident aren’t you.”
Shit. Vax’s tone wasn’t supposed to sound like that, it—
“Mhm hmm.”
A snapping sound as Scanlan snapped his fingers impatiently. “Enough flirting you two. Get ready to go on my signal—”
Vax didn’t have enough time to freak out over Scanlan’s words.
The game put too much on the line, victory vital, and that pushed his imminent freak out aside. The countdown complete, the contest began, and Vax blocked out everything else except winning. Maybe that gave him an advantage, or maybe the universe took pity on him, though Vax seriously doubted that. But still, whatever the reason, the fact remained that he presented his tied cherry stalk a split second before Percy did.
Vax had a feeling Percy hadn’t even tried to beat him.
Because his friend could be more than a tad egotistical and all he did now was accept the loss with demure grace. As if he’d ever been demure.
“So,” Percy said, competitive to a fault and yet not looking at all perturbed by his loss. In fact he was looking up at Vax from under his lashes, a glance that should be coy but somehow managed to be anything but. Heated, maybe even sultry—huh, Vax had never used that word to describe Percy before and was quite frankly stunned at the association—eyes that reeled you in. “What is it that you want?”
There were many things Vax wanted.
None of them were safe to say aloud though.
In fact the problem went further because given how the evening had gone Vax didn’t think he was safe to say anything at all, yet he knew he needed to. He could do this, he could be cool and mysterious. Vax hummed, kept his tone neutral.
“I’ll get back to you on that.”
Nailed it.