Fair warning: This one gets a little dark. 

[hider=Veterans | Feb. 2019]
Aaron groaned as he stretched, pulling his jacket back on in the mirror. The colours had started to grow on him; tonight’s outfit was a blue satin blazer, black shirt and slacks, just enough to stand out without being garish. It brought out his eyes, but clashed a little with the red spots on his neck. 

Well, it was all part of the job. 

He’d call this one a success. Poor girl had a great time for how short their encounter had been, but had to run shortly after. Aaron was fine with that; he’d gotten everything he needed. He’d more or less come to terms with the nature of his work, but that little bit of guilt over what would happen the next evening always started eating at him when they insisted on staying. Sometimes it still got to him, though; it was nights like those, nights like tonight, that he was grateful to have a network.

He checked the mirror a final time to make sure he [i]didn’t[/i] look like he’d just rolled out of bed (or out of the shower, or off of the floor) before setting out down the lavish corridor, catching the elevator on the express route down. He didn’t even have to look for the “Lounge” button anymore; it had become muscle memory. He spent the short ride down eyeing himself in the button panel, wondering if he should pop his collar to hide the hickeys that were forming, or if that would make him look too ridiculous. He decided against it. Where he was going, he wasn’t about to get judged for it anyway. 

The doors slid open with a soft [i]ding[/i] to a dim room with staggered levels and low ceilings, assortments of fine, comfortable furniture arranged in little groups. It was fairly empty, only a few people here and there sleepily riding out the last of the morning, with the exception of one group near the back. Their sitting area was a step above the rest, a small ring of couches and armchairs around a circular coffee table, all behind a polished railing and a sign that read “Reserved.” 

Aaron made his way over, passing by the hostess with little more than a glance and a smile. Even he had to admit, being part of the House had its perks; the whole place was owned by one of the Sinnenodel holding companies, and all any of the staff needed was a glance at Aaron’s earring to accommodate him. He made a beeline to the sitting area, where two other men and a woman were seated comfortably, all with drinks and one with a cigar, quietly talking and laughing.

He grinned at the group when he plopped into his favourite chair, immediately sinking back into it with an exaggerated groan. 

“Rough night?” Asked the woman, smirking over the brim of her martini glass. 

Aaron let out a sigh, leaning his temple on his fingers. “No more than any other,” he replied nonchalantly, looking to the rest of the group. “And you guys?”

“Easy,” the woman replied, crossing her legs. “Spilled [i]immediately.[/i] Good lord, I almost felt sorry for the man.” 

“Oh now, that’s nonsense,” the brown-haired man next to her drawled, nudging her arm gently. “Surely that was the best day he’s had in… [i]nights.[/i]” The woman feigned offense and slapped the man on the knee, succeeding only in making him laugh harder. 

“How about Derek?” The man continued, gesturing with his cigar to the black-haired, blue-eyed man to Aaron’s right, who responded with an exaggerated eye roll. The brunette seemed pleased with himself. “Tell Aaron how your night went, Derek.” 

Derek groaned, leveling an exasperated look on Aaron. “It started almost two nights ago, that’s how it went.”

The woman smiled wickedly, gesturing with her martini hand. “August fifth, 5am…” she teased in a sing-song voice. 

Aaron grimaced, though he had to chuckle, before letting out a low whistle. “What’s that…” he paused to count in his head, “Twenty-nine straight hours?” He quirked a brow at the lowball glass in the man’s hand, no food in sight. “Aren’t you hungry?”

“Nooo,” Derek replied immediately, tossing back his drink and staring wide-eyed ahead at the woman, who only giggled more. “No, I am not.”

“How about you, Aaron?” the brunette across the table pressed, “You look tired, have fun?”

Aaron shrugged, looking around for a waitress and holding up two fingers. It took less than a minute for her to come back with a lowball glass and his two fingers of bourbon. “Short, but… efficient. She left just now, her car is probably just picking her up.”

The woman laughed. “What, did you not even shower before you came down here, you filthy whore?”

Aaron pointed a finger at her with mock indignation, but couldn’t help but laugh. “I am a perfectly clean whore, thank you very much.”

“Oh really?”

Aaron shrugged, gesturing innocently. “She was in a rush,” he reasoned, “We had to multitask.”

The woman rolled her eyes, a smirk curling her lips. “Well, aren't you accommodating.”

“I live to please.”

The woman blew a kiss, taking another sip of her martini. “Don’t we all.”

The group talked for a little while, chatting and laughing, though Derek stayed mostly quiet, getting another drink and looking a little shell-shocked. Finally, Aaron couldn't help himself. 

“Okay, Derek, seriously. I [i]have[/i] to ask,” he said, nudging the man’s shoulder. [i]“Twenty-nine[/i] hours?”

Derek’s eyes went wide as he gestured helplessly. “He must have been on something!”

“What were [i]you[/i] on?”

Derek shifted in his seat to dig in the pocket of his blazer, tossing something to Aaron. It was a small, empty vial, with a black-and-gold label that read [i]Ero Felicia.[/i]

“Wow,” Aaron almost groaned, letting his head fall back onto the chair and rolling the vial between his fingers. “No kidding.”

Derek held up three fingers, looking both exhausted and astounded. “Three vials. [i]Three.”[/i]

“Good [i]lord,[/i]” Aaron grimaced, tossing the vial back. “How are you still even conscious?”

“No idea.”

Aaron gave him a sympathetic look before shrugging, trying as he usually did to look at the bright side. “Well, maybe Duchess Lydia will give you a night off for your valiant efforts.”

Derek didn't look so sure. “I got everything I needed, so I’m sure Mistress will be pleased, but…” He trailed off, staring at a spot somewhere on the coffee table. 

Aaron nodded in understanding, holding up his glass. “I know the feeling.” Neither Lydia nor Varis were in the business of rewarding for simply doing one’s job. 

The two clinked their glasses together and threw back the rest of their drinks in solidarity, before turning their attention to the raunchy story that Marcus and Victoria had launched into. At some point there was mention of something tangentially related to horses, and it reminded Aaron of something, the man snapping his fingers at Victoria. 

“Did you catch the race tonight?” he asked, waking up a little. 

Victoria’s face fell into a pout before settling neutral again as she looked away, re-crossing her legs. “No,” she replied, as casually as she could muster.

“Liar,” Aaron accused her, laughing. “Who won?”

Victoria gave him a sidelong look, trying to look innocent. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t make me crawl into your head to find out,” Aaron mock-threatened, leaning on his elbows, “You know I will.”

Victoria tossed back her wavy black hair with an annoyed groan, defeated. “Fine,” she conceded sharply, pulling a wad of bills out of her bra and tossing it on the table for Aaron to eagerly snatch up. “Fucker didn’t even [i]show.[/i]” 

Aaron simply laughed, flipping through the stack and slapping it triumphantly on his leg before tucking it into his pocket. “What did I say? Derek what did I say.”

“He said the jockey was trash,” Derek assented.

“I said the jockey was trash,” Aaron reiterated, looking thoroughly pleased with himself. He put his arms out helplessly, looking to the rest of the group. “She doesn’t listen to me.”

Victoria rolled her eyes dramatically, tossing her head. Aaron simply grinned cheekily at her, before looking to the rest of the group. “Next round’s on me, then.”

Victoria laughed, a musical sound. “Please, you know we don’t pay here.”

“Yeah, but that’s what they say in movies,” Aaron shrugged.

Victoria eyed him up and down. “Careful Aaron, you’re bleeding blue again.” 

Aaron sat back, waving the accusation away. “Blue’s my colour anyway.”

“You sure it’s not red?” Victoria retorted, poking at the hickeys on his neck. 

That elicited a chuckle from the group and conversation picked up again, Marcus and Victoria seeming like they could go all day while Aaron and Derek relaxed, the latter occasionally dozing off. 

“Just go to bed,” Aaron murmured to him, leaning closer as the other two chattered. “Moon only knows, you need it.” 

“Can’t yet,” Derek mumbled, heaving a long sigh and shifting in his seat. “Maintenance is probably going to be in the room all damn day. Fucking psychopath.” 

Aaron’s face fell. “That bad, huh?”

“Mhm,” Derek hummed, signaling for another drink. 

Aaron frowned, downing the rest of his own drink and gesturing with his head towards the elevator, lowering his voice. “Just come up to my room then, you’re exhausted.” 

Derek sighed again, waiting the thirty or so seconds it took for the waitress to bring him his drink before downing the whole thing in one go. “Alright,” he said, standing and swaying a little. 

Aaron stood as well, catching Derek’s elbow so he wouldn’t fall. They bid their goodbyes, Aaron leading an increasingly wobbly Derek to the elevator and ultimately into his room. Housekeeping had been in already - the staff were always prompt for the likes of them - and Derek all but collapsed face-first onto the bed the minute he was near enough, not even kicking out of his shoes. 

Aaron sighed, arms crossed, half-amused and half-pitying the poor man. He’d been in that position more than once, and the group of them, they were all familiar. 

“Come on now, can’t sleep yet,” Aaron reasoned, pulling Derek’s jacket off before turning him onto his back and working on his shirt buttons. He was pretty sure he had an extra t-shirt somewhere that would fit. The shirt looked like it had been put back on a little uneven; the buttons near the bottom weren't lined up properly. 

Derek was compliant at first, but all of a sudden he screwed up his face and grabbed Aaron’s arms, trying weakly to push him away. Something like a whimper escaped his throat, and he weakly begged, “Please stop, no more, I can’t…”

Aaron removed his hands, giving Derek a moment to calm down. Man, the poor guy was more drunk than he’d initially thought. He thought back through the morning, trying to count how many drinks Derek had ordered. Dammit, he should have kept closer track. They all knew how Derek could get when he drank. He was still fairly new to all this, after all. 

Once Derek seemed to have calmed down, Aaron anchored his knee on the edge of the bed, pulling Derek upright by his hands. “Hey, it's okay,” he whispered, trying to catch the man’s eye. 

Derek hung his head, burying his face in his hands. From this angle, Aaron could see the angry red marks snaking around his wrists. After a moment, Derek sniffed, wiping at his eyes almost angrily with his sleeve. He seemed to be trying to compose himself, but he was having trouble, and eventually leaned into Aaron, burying his face in his abdomen. 

“Shhh,” Aaron hushed him as his body started to shake, moving to sit next to him on the bed and putting an arm around his shoulders. Derek buried his face in Aaron’s shoulder, grasping at his jacket. Aaron let him have his moment, gently rocking the man; he’d been in his shoes before. They all had. They had a certain understanding. “You’re okay, you’re done now. You did great.”

After a few minutes Derek seemed to have calmed down, allowing Aaron to help him out of his shirt and pants and into Aaron’s spare t-shirt. Soon after he collapsed back onto the bed, the full force of the alcohol and twenty-nine hours of whatever he’d been through hitting him all at once. Aaron was content to arrange him more or less on the pillows, tossing the sheets over him. 

With that done, Aaron got out of his own clothes, pulling on a pair of pajama pants. His friends always teased him for sending pajamas up to his room, but he didn’t care. If he got the opportunity to sleep alone, he was damn well going to be comfortable when he did it. 

He went into the bathroom and went through his morning routine like normal; rough night and drunk friend or not, his looks were a big part of his job and skin care halted for no man. Just as he was taking his earring off for the night, he was reminded of something, and went back to the bed where Derek had dozed off on his stomach.

Carefully, Aaron reached behind his neck, undoing the clasp of his choker. It was a black satin ribbon, about an inch wide, with a cameo charm at the front, a coiled adder carved into it in relief. Derek stirred as Aaron pulled it out from under him, squinting up with a furrowed brow. 

“Am I in your way?” he mumbled, not entirely awake. 

Aaron shook his head. “Nope, you’re fine. Just getting this off you.”

Derek nodded into the pillow. “Are you joining me?”

“Nah,” Aaron smiled. “I think you earned a bed to yourself today.”

Derek smiled, a little crooked but certainly sincere, and closed his eyes again, shifting a bit and spreading out. “Yay.”

Aaron sighed, putting the choker on the dresser alongside his earring and turning the lights off. His eyes and ring began to glow, allowing him to see again before he returned to the bathroom, grabbing a spare blanket from the closet and several towels on the way. He tossed the towels into the bathtub, making a little improvised bed, and climbed in, pulling the blanket over him. Sleeping in the bathtub really wasn’t that bad; it was large enough that he didn’t have to completely fold himself up, and the towels made it softer. He probably would have been more happy to just share the bed with Derek - wouldn’t be the first time - but the poor guy was so shaken up, Aaron figured he’d appreciate the space. After all, Derek would have done the same for him. They all would have. 

Every now and then, in quiet moments like these, Aaron realized just how strange it all might be to an outsider. If he told Lilie or even Max how he behaved around his House friends, they’d probably look at him like he was crazy. Hell, his second-year self, when he’d first started all this, would have done the same. But the four of them, this group, they had something in common Aaron didn’t have with anyone else he knew. They were all Sinnenodels. And nights like tonight… well, they came with the territory. 

It was funny, in a twisted sort of way; they’d all slept with each other at least once, for varying reasons. Aaron recalled a particularly annoying instance that had become more funny with time, when he and Victoria had been sent after each other as a wager between Varis and her Count. After that, she’d introduced him to their little band of veterans. Sometimes they came and went; Sveta had left when it was time for her to breed, and Derek had joined them shortly after. But he was grateful for them. Their House, their work… it all had the potential to turn everyone into a turncoat, an enemy. But they’d managed to find a sort of camaraderie in it, able to relate to each other in a way they couldn’t with anyone else. He’d even dare say they’d bonded over it, though he’d never actually say it out loud. They’d become a small support network, in a way, despite the way they harshly teased one another. It was tenuous at times, as their House tended to be, but they stuck with it nonetheless. Often, at the end of the night, they were all any of them had. The only ones who could really understand. 

Aaron was pulled from his thoughts by a slurred yell from the bedroom, Derek having apparently stirred and in his drunken state felt the need to call, “Goodnight, Aaron.”

He chuckled, adjusting his own position in the bathtub and finally closing his eyes. “Goodnight, Derek.”
[/hider]