#notice the hypocrisy in yourself already jeez

[write-a-bad-romance]

Only If You Hurry (Comte/Leo)

Pairing: Leonardo x Comte, with hints of Vlad x Comte

Rating: T

Word Count: 1738

Prompt: Hurt/Comfort, Leo and family matters, modern AU

Ao3 Link: Here

Note: I'll be referring to Comte as "Saint-Germain" throughout this fic because I don't want to spoil his first name. Also, his views about same-sex relationships do not reflect the author's actual opinion.

Vanilla-scented smoke trailed behind Leonardo as he located the door to Saint-Germain's apartment and knocked furiously. The sound of a violin was abruptly cut and replaced by footsteps approaching the door. 

Leonardo didn't need to announce who he was. The man inside already knew.

Or maybe not. Saint-Germain still needed to look through the peephole to make sure. Leo heard the sound of unlatching as he stared at the tip of his scuffed leather shoes, a stark contrast against the grimy maroon carpet.

All the money in the world and still he refused to move someplace newer, fancier. But then, the entire building is HIS anyway. 

The door opened with a heavy creak as Saint-Germain's worried face came into view.

"I wasn't expecting a guest. At least not tonight." The blond man sighed, "But at this point, this is your house as much as it's mine, isn't it?"

Saint-Germain backed away to allow Leonardo some space. The moment he stepped into the room, he noticed an ornate decanter of wine and matching glasses on the coffee table.

"I thought you weren't expecting company," Leonardo smacked his lips. The living room was bathed in a warm golden glow, just like everything Saint-Germain.

"I had a feeling knew you'd come."

The larger man decided to let further comments die on his tongue. He marched towards the burgundy velvet armchair and sunk against the cushioning. Other men of his size would complain about how cramped it was, but Leonardo welcomed the snug comfort it offered.

He loved sitting at this very chair and let himself soak in the familiarity of his surroundings. Even more so when the master of the house was around and he would—

Leonardo batted his thoughts away as Saint-Germain probed him. "Is this about that date you mentioned a few days ago?"

"Jeez, how did you know?"

"Just a guess. To be honest, I can't tell you if you just came back from your lab or a fancy restaurant on a hotel rooftop." Saint-Germain gestured towards Leo's desultory choice of clothes. "You're not even trying anymore."

"Yeah, well. She’s a friend of my cousin, my only good cousin. How was I supposed to refuse?" 

"Family matters. I understand." Saint-Germain poured from his decanter and passed it onto the slouching man. "But you can't keep doing this if it means coming to me moaning about it."

"Grazie," Leonardo accepted his friend's offering, but not without almost dropping the glass and letting its content spill onto Saint-Germain's antique Persian rug. "And thank you for being such a good friend and taking in the burnt of my woes."

He wasn't far off from the truth. Despite his harsh words, Saint-Germain would always nod and listen with that almost-holy, serene visage. And without fail, the man would offer him little quips of advice, some soothing words here and there. Sometimes, outright spats were inevitable. But even then, it was Saint-Germain who stood his ground and made Leonardo spend the rest of the night reflecting and repenting.

The weary lecturer closed his eyes and sighed. The good, young doctor wasting all his attention on me? This can't be right.

"Was she really that...undesirable?" The occupant of Leo's thoughts picked his violin once again and pressed it against his collarbone. "How long did you, erm, last?"

"Dio. You make it sound so obscene," Leonardo scoffed. "She wasn't. It's just, well...."

Saint-Germain let out a wry chuckle and gave him a hearty smile. "I see. So it's your tastes that's currently leaning towards....men. Did I put that correctly?"

"Well, I guess you're not entirely wrong." Leonardo hoped he could blame the wine for the rosy tinge that swept across his cheeks.

"Understandable," Saint-Germain cradled the instrument on his arm, a faraway gaze to his eyes. "Once you're accustomed to the comforts of a man, it'll take you a while before you stop searching his image in other men."

Leonardo threw a pointed look at the oblivious man. That's not how it works. 

Besides, aren't you just talking about yourself?

"Really," Saint-Germain ignored his indignant gaze and sat on the loveseat across Leonardo, his own filled glass in hand. "Even if you've dropped hints here and there, wouldn't it be better if you confront your family and tell them the truth?"

"Those were major hints I've been dropping," Leonardo raised his voice. "I had another cousin calling me just to ask about some guy in my Facebook photo from five years ago."

"And?" Saint-Germain licked his wine-tinted lips. Grazioso, Leonardo wanted to say. "What did you tell him?"

"I asked him what his point was. He hung up immediately after," Leo snickered. "Guy must have been scared shitless of me sounding so angry. I never showed that side to him before."

"See?" The blond man sighed, pouring himself a second glass. "Deflecting questions is not a confirmation. Neither is silence."

Leonardo watched intently as the other man rose from his seat to get his violin. His best friend looked enticing in a white shirt with sleeves rolled up to his elbows, he had to admit. The ensemble would've been made perfect if Saint-Germain had on a black waistcoat—

Damn the alcohol for letting my mind run loose.

"Anyway, since you're here to drink your sorrows away," Saint-Germain lifted his violin. "Why don't I play something for you?"

Leo bit back a scoff. That's not the kind of comforting I need, but that's about the only thing I can get from this. More than this, and it’d be—

"Sure," He flashed a cheeky grin, "Are you taking requests? Wait, no classics. I don't want you to lull me to sleep."

Saint-Germain set his bow on top of his violin's strings, the instrument waiting in position. "Anything for you."

The pair laughed their worries off into the night, accompanied by Leonardo's off-key singing. It was tiring, the Italian thought. 

But relaxing, in its own superficial way.

“Anyway,” Leonardo spoke much later as he began gathering his belongings. “How’s it going with your cara mia?”

Saint-Germain seemed taken aback by the sudden question. “Oh, everything is fine. Why do you ask?”

“No,” Leonardo paused, wondering if Saint-Germain noticed the awkwardness of his phrasing. Not that it mattered, going by the inanimate turn of his voice.

“There’s nothing for you to worry about,” Ah there it was, Saint-Germain’s signature stern look that appeared whenever Leonardo managed to land a crack on his defenses. “Now, look at you, fussing over someone else’s love life over your own.”

“I get it, I get it.” Leonardo waved a hand in defeat as he made a beeline towards the exit. “Besides, it won’t do if your girlfriend notices I’m going to your apartment all the time. She might get suspicious.”

“She already has,” The smaller man gently pushed Leo’s back as he ushered him out of his abode. “Now go home and get to bed. Don’t wander off into some bar for another drink. Or guy.”

“Santo Dio! No need to keep scolding me! Save your lectures for later!” Leonardo laughed, his face completely flushed. “Thanks anyway. See you when I see you?” 

“Anytime for a dear friend.” Saint-Germain patted the padding of Leonardo’s jacket.

“Right. Ciao.”

Leonardo cursed in Italian as he slammed his fist on a nearby wall.

“Shit.” He ran a sweaty hand over his weary face. “What was I thinking? Wasting my time and whining to the very person I want."

Leonardo could never say he loved the man. He longed for him. He lost sleep over him. Crying for him might be a little too much, but still, it was the blonde hair and amber eyes that followed him to sleep and starred in his dreams. 

And every time, Leonardo would wake up panicked, alone and panting.

And desiring.

He remembered carefully warning his 'wards' Salai and Melzi, "Never go for unavailable men. Don't give in to the delusion that you're somehow going to make it work, whatever it takes."

"Withdraw while there's still time. It's not worth it." He admonished severely.

Leonardo laughed at his hypocrisy, disgust welling in the pits of his stomach. Even if his frivolity hadn't corrupted Saint-Germain, the other man had enough poison in himself to get the job done. Time and time again, he would gaze into the man's golden orbs and find nothing there. 

He would give so much of himself to others but never oblige anybody else to fulfill him. Would never allow anyone close to his heart.

Leonardo knew he couldn't handle him, Saint-Germain and his darkness. And neither could the man endure him. So why did he—

How did he fall in this deep? 

Leonardo shook his head and carried on with a forceful stride. They were fools, both of them. But Leonardo was an absolute abject for letting his heart and brain to be wholly governed by the image of a man who clearly wouldn’t look his way.

Nor anywhere else.

Saint-Germain stared dumbly at the blinding screen of his phone. There was no delivery notification under his latest message.

She was still blocking him. He could only pray the email reached her inbox and didn't end up in the spam or whatever abyss she subjected him. He couldn't afford another postponement. If he was lucky, this weekend, they'd have one last dinner, and Saint-Germain would offer to end their meetings.

Leonardo and his colleagues would praise him for being the one in control, always the dominant one. They believed Comte could pull away gracefully and call off his relationships at the drop of a hat.

Oh, if only such was the case. Saint-Germain battled day and night to gain control over his erratic feelings, hidden under lock and key beneath his impassive facade.

The constant battles made him vulnerable. Weak people had no business supporting another, not when they could barely stand on their own two feet.

And he was so close to baring it all to the very person he'd laid his eyes on. 

Leo can't keep seeing me like this. So prone and useless.

You're a strong man who deserves an even stronger man. It will never be me.

He recalled Leonardo murmuring to him over another round of wine on the balcony of some hotel a long time ago.

It should be easy, being with the one you love. 

Love isn't supposed to hurt or tire you out. If it's running your heart rugged to the ground, then what's the point?

Right?

Saint-Germain twisted the silicone casing of his phone furiously. He didn't know. How could he answer?

What was love supposed to feel like?

Joyeux anniversaire, Comte! Sorry I’m offering nothing but angst on this jolly day! :’)))

This was actually a request from anon, but I decided to make a longer piece from the prompt. The original draft had Renaissance influences thrown in, but things got hectic and I couldn’t continue my research. So I decided to go with mu usual jam: Modern AU.

Also, I think I overdid the hurt and added too much angst. I hope it’s okay.

Thank you to @ashavazesa for helping me brainstorm ideas. I’m sorry things didn’t come out like we intended to, but your suggestion (namely, Comte playing the violin for Leonardo) stuck with me and it fit nicely. Thank you!

[baileycub]

lol my mother-in-law shared a post about how leftists are brainwashing kids and i asked her how taking children to church was any different. the brain aneurysm she probably experienced from anger is enough to keep me chuckling all day long.