Bound by the Mark of Lies (BL)

Gabriel's fingers stilled on the row of shirts, the faintest sigh slipping past his lips. "Damian, I need to dress."

"I'm not doing anything," Damian replied, his voice infuriatingly even. One slow step, and his frame filled the wardrobe doorway, shadow and heat bleeding into the narrow space. "Just waiting… for you to talk. And either you talk, or you stay here until you do."

Gabriel turned, meeting the golden gaze head-on, and found exactly what he expected, the unshakable patience of a man who would stand there all night if it meant getting his way.

"You know," he said, tone light in the way that meant anything but, "when people make mistakes, usually they apologize. But neither you nor Edward did it."

Damian's mouth curved slightly, not in amusement but in that faint, dangerous way that said he was already weighing his reply like a weapon. Gabriel didn't wait for it. He reached for another shirt, shaking it once as though the fabric itself might cut the tension.

"Instead," he continued, "Edward uses me as a cautionary tale, and you…" his eyes flicked over Damian's robe, the glass of amber still within reach, "you use me as a provocation."

The words landed soft, but the air between them sharpened all the same.

Damian didn't answer right away. The silence stretched, heavy and deliberate, until the faint tick of the clock somewhere in the adjoining room seemed loud enough to count the seconds. He didn't look away, didn't shift, and just stood there in the doorway as if he could keep Gabriel pinned in place by presence alone.

When he finally spoke, his voice was quieter than before, stripped of any edge. "I didn't use you as a provocation." A pause, measured. "I forgot the door. Only a few people could open it, and I didn't think…" His jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. "Edward wanted to get back at me for something he didn't like. He used you to do it. He knew exactly what that would do to me."

Gabriel stilled, the shirt still hanging loosely from his hand, unreadable beneath the warm lamplight. Damian didn't move closer, but the faint scent of his drink and soap still curled through the narrow space between them, waiting for an answer he might not get.

"So Edward believed I'm expendable enough to be used in a petty war between him and you?" Gabriel's tone was calm, but the precision of each word carried the kind of weight that made even the air feel tighter.

Damian's gaze sharpened, the golden irises catching the light like molten metal. "Not expendable," he said, low and certain. "Valuable enough that using you would hurt me the most."

Gabriel's brows lifted, disbelief edged in ice. "What the fuck did you do for him to do this?"

"I forced him to take his annual leave."

Gabriel stared at him for a long beat, the shirt still dangling loosely from his fingers. "You must be joking."

"I'm not," Damian said, unblinking. "I signed the order myself. He's gone for two weeks."

For a moment, Gabriel just stared at him, then the laugh broke out, sharp and low, curling at the edges like smoke. It wasn't amusement. It was the kind of sound that promised someone, somewhere, was going to regret their life choices.

"Well," he said, folding the shirt over his arm with deliberate care, "if Edward thinks I'm going to let that slide, he's going to wish you'd sent him away for a year."

Damian's gaze lingered on him, the faintest shift at the corner of his mouth betraying relief, not because Gabriel was laughing, but because the blade of his temper had turned away from him.

"That," he murmured, the amber in his glass catching the light as he reached for it again, "I look forward to watching."

Gabriel's eyes flicked to him, sharp and knowing. "Of course you do. You'd stand through a war zone if it meant I wasn't aiming at you."

"I've done it before," Damian said without missing a beat, and the truth in his tone made Gabriel's lips curve in the slow satisfaction of planning someone else's downfall.

By the time Gabriel finished dressing, the sharp edge between them had dulled, replaced by something quieter but no less deliberate. Damian remained in the doorway, glass in hand, gaze following every movement as if he could anchor Gabriel there with will alone.

When Gabriel reached for his cuff, Damian stepped forward, taking his wrist and fastening the button himself. His voice was low, almost reluctant. "I should've locked the study door. I'm sorry."

Gabriel studied him for a moment, weighing the rare admission, then let a small smile curve his lips, not forgiving, exactly, but accepting the offering for what it was. "Yes. It is."

Damian's mouth twitched, the faintest surrender. "So… we make him regret it?"

Gabriel's smile sharpened. "Together."

"Good," Damian murmured, brushing his thumb over Gabriel's knuckles before releasing him. "Because if Edward thinks he can make me miserable through you, he should be reminded how poorly that strategy works when we're on the same side."

"Not just reminded," Gabriel corrected, straightening his collar. "Educated."

When they left the room, it was as a united front, steps in sync, shoulders brushing, Damian's hand at the small of Gabriel's back in a quiet claim that said the argument was over, and the real war had begun.

They reached the dining hall as the staff was making final adjustments. Edward was already there, head bent toward an attendant, oblivious to their approach.

"Edward," Gabriel called, his voice pitched just enough to carry to every server and footman in the room. "I trust you've planned your vacation properly this year?"

Edward turned, composure intact, but there was the faintest pause before he answered. "Of course, Your Grace."

"Good," Gabriel said, his tone all polite warmth, though the gleam in his eyes promised anything but. "Because I'd hate for you to sneak work in while you're meant to be resting. It would be a shame if the staff thought their captain couldn't follow orders."

A few attendants exchanged quick glances, their expressions carefully schooled.

Damian's hand found the back of Gabriel's chair as they sat, his voice pitched low for him alone. "Phase one, complete."

Gabriel didn't look away from Edward. "Phase two will be more fun."