Chapter 7 : Game Over
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Lysander stood in the kitchen to wait for Hugo and used the fridge as a mirror. His white shirt and black pants were ironed and perfect, he was wearing proper shoes, not sneakers like he knew Hugo would be, and he had styled his hair for the first time, so it wasn't just flat or a mess. But that was not why he needed a mirror.
He used his hands to change his features to smiles, but every time he let go, all he saw was a frown. He couldn't be happy about having a night out with his boyfriend when all he felt was worry. How could they go out? What if they were caught? What if Harry found out? Why had he agreed to this?
Because Hugo was a manipulative bastard, that's why.
He dropped his hands one last time, giving up, just as Hugo came in. Lysander couldn't deny Hugo looked good all in black, including his sneakers, but he couldn't even muster a fake smile.
"I'm not sure about this," he said.
Hugo came over and wrapped his arms around his waist so they were both staring into the make-shift mirror. "We deserve this, Xander, you know we do. It'll be fine, I promise."
"You don't know that."
Hugo groaned at Lysander's pessimistic view and dropped his head onto his shoulder for a second before looking back up. "No, I don't. But I won't let it stop me."
He watched Hugo move away and turned slowly. "Did you really just use my own words against me?"
"Yep." He threw Lysander his jacket, which he caught with ease, and pulled on his own. "Come on. Does this place have keys?"
"No one can see it," he reminded. Hugo pulled him out the door and across the pool to the gate. "This is a bad idea. I hate this idea. I hate you. I hate me for my total lack of self-control when you kiss me."
Hugo opened the gate and looked out to make sure no one was around, not that he thought anyone would be. "I consider it one of my many talents."
"I know all about your 'talents', Hugo." Laughing, Hugo pulled him out, shut the gate and dragged him to a nearby alley. "How did you know this was here?"
"Talent." Lysander glared and Hugo explained before he could jump to conclusions. "I did not sneak out that day, you can see it from my bedroom window, my old bedroom window anyway." He pulled out his wand and glamoured his hair so it was darker, almost black and his eyes turned from blue to brown. "What do you think?"
"You look like Hugo with dyed hair and contacts," he answered. "I can still tell it's you."
"Of course you do, you know me," he replied, rolling his eyes.
"So do they." Hugo groaned and muttered that there was no pleasing some people, but fixed his glamour anyway; his hair was a little shorter, his freckles were gone and his nose was a little more pointed. "Subtle. I can still tell, but only when close up."
Hugo nodded. "Good. You're lucky they don't know you."
They talked about casual things on their way to town and while on the bus into the city; mainly about the holiday Hugo promised when this was over.
When the bus stopped, Lysander thanked the driver and Hugo took his hand. "Spanish?"
"Si," he smiled at their locked hands, thinking how nice it was to be together in public. "Do you?"
He laughed as Hugo pulled him forward and answered in Spanish, "Of course I do." They walked around the city, past the restaurants and small pubs, until they came to a club. The music was deafeningly loud and could be heard from outside, mixing with other clubs, and people could be heard and seen drinking and partying on the dance floor, having fun. Hugo held up his arms. "Civilisation. I've missed you."
"Come on, before it all becomes too much and you start to cry." They made their way into the packed club and Lysander found a booth. He gave Hugo some of the money from the house and he went off to buy drinks, coming back fifteen minutes later with two bottles of lager and a few shots.
"Bar was packed," he explained. He pushed a shot in front of Lysander and they held them up in salute. "To you and me and what could possibly be a dysfunctional relationship. But no way are we gonna let it stop us."
"Whatever you say," Lysander murmured and they down their shot and picked up the bottles. They watched and talked while they drank, shouting at times to make sure they were heard, even though they were sitting next to each other, and Lysander couldn't miss the huge grin Hugo had on his face the whole time. "This is your kind of place, isn't it?"
"Definitely," he shouted back. He leaned in so their backs were pressed against the couch and moved over so their shoulders were touching and he could talk in his ear without needing to shout. "Me and my friends would go out nearly every weekend. We'd drink and dance and have fun, they would make bets on who would pick a girl up first, or guy if Lily came, don't tell Harry. But me, I love the atmosphere; it just pulls you in and you wanna have fun and drink like everyone else. You can let go, just go wild. It's fun."
"I wouldn't really know," he answered. "The only time I went out was for my twenty-first and that was only because Lorcan made me. I spent so much time and energy in training that I didn't have much time to do anything else."
Hugo handed him another shot and they held it up. "Well, now you do." As soon as they downed the shot, Hugo took his hand. "Dance with me."
Lysander didn't have time to answer, Hugo pulled him up and took him to the dance floor. A man pushed past Hugo, knocking them both to the side slightly. "Sorry," Lysander apologized to the people they were pushed into as Hugo called out for him to watch where he was going. The man turned slightly and they both looked confused at the strange look he gave them. "That was rude."
"Yeah." Shaking it off, Hugo carried on walking to the middle of the dance floor. "Don't let it spoil our night," he yelled in his ear. "It's time for you to have fun."
They pushed their way clumsily through the gate, Hugo's glamour charm disappearing as they entered, giggling. He shut the gate quickly and Lysander pushed him into the house, backwards till he fell onto the couch. He walked away and stopped at Harry's CD player, running a finger over the names until he found one he liked, and put it on. He read through the songs, skipping the tracks until he found the one he had been looking for.
Hugo, who had been watching amusedly, looked up when it played through the speakers around the house. "Nice choice. Does it mean something to you?"
Lysander shook his head, walking back. "I've never heard it before, but it sounded good so I put it on." He unbuttoned the first few buttons of his shirt and pulled it off, letting it go on the floor, and stopped in front of the couch.
Hugo sat up slowly and ran a finger over the other man's torso, before hooking his hand around the hem of his pants and pulling him down gently, so Lysander was straddling him.
"Great taste," he murmured.
"In music or men?" Lysander chuckled.
"I guess we'll see." Hugo kissed him hungrily, never wanting to stop, and Lysander undid his shirt and pulled it off. Hands and lips were everywhere; along Lysander's jaw, down his neck, his chest. Their movements were too limited on the couch and they stopped only so Hugo could push his lover to the floor. He crawled on top of him and, as the song finished and a new one began, their actions continued once more.
Lysander stretched his arms across the floor and groaned loudly, his back aching slightly. He looked down and noticed only his shirt covered him and turned to the right to confirm that he had indeed woken alone. He shook his head, sat up to pull on his pants and walked into the kitchen to put the kettle on.
He silently fixed himself a drink, listening out for Hugo. As he raised his cup to his lips, he heard a thud come from upstairs and grinned; he knew exactly were the man was. Lysander climbed the stairs quietly and entered the bathroom, leaning against the door frame. "You alright there, man."
Hugo turned to see his smirk. "Now is not the time, kid." He ran his hands through his hair then covered them over his eyes, leaning his elbows on the toilet seat. "I should really stop drinking," he muttered, then corrected himself a little, "as much."
Lysander chuckled. "What's the matter? Body can't take it?"
He expected Hugo to retort, but he just shook his head. "No, it can't."
"What happened to mister 'I'm only twenty nine'?"
Hugo moved from the toilet to lean against the bathtub and raised a hand. "One, please stop shouting, my head can't take it. Two, I'm pretty sure we were talking about sex that time. Three, please stop shouting, my head really can't take it."
Lysander raised his cup, taking a drink, then copied the man, answering his questions in the same order. "I'm not shouting. Yes, we were. How long did it take you to figure that out? I'm not shouting."
Hugo looked confused for a second, but shook his head gently, blaming it on his hangover, and only answered the question. "It took me a couple of seconds after you said it, it just never really made sense until I found out about the crush you had on me." He took in Lysander's casual appearance, his relaxed look, not showing any signs of a hangover. "You drank just as much, if not more, than me. How can you look so... Normal?"
Lysander winked, "I'm twenty two, dude."
He sighed, reminiscing. "I remember when I was twenty two; I could drink myself under the table and after a couple of hours sleep, I'd wake up still buzzed. It made work fun." Then it hit him. "You're not hungover because you're still drunk."
"Maybe," he shrugged. "Just a little. Enough to smile at your misfortune. What time's it?" he checked his watch. "Seven fifteen. It'll probably hit me around noon. Are you okay now?"
Hugo nodded softly. "Yeah, I think so. I'm just gonna sit here a little while longer. I've been wrong before; it wasn't pretty."
Lysander took in his appearance, moved over to sit next to him and took his hand in his own. "How did you connect us and sex together from that conversation?"
"You insisted you weren't too young and I weren't too old, it doesn't take a genius. James could figure it out." He looked at him like it was obvious.
Lysander rolled his eyes, though embarrassed; he'd thought he'd hidden his crush well. Not that it mattered now; they were together. "Awesome."
They sat in the bathroom together for over an hour before Hugo deemed himself well enough to leave and they went down the stairs. Once in the kitchen, they had made small-talk about the night before over the little breakfast they managed to eat; Hugo because he wasn't hungry, Lysander because his hangover was starting to kick in and he was afraid he couldn't hold anything down.
By noon, though Lysander wasn't sick, his headache was starting to kill him. "Melodramatic much," Hugo said.
"Hypocrite." He got up from the floor slowly and walked into the kitchen, he looked through every cupboard and drawer, taking care when closing so not to make a noise, and leant against the frame. "Of all the things in this house, there are no painkillers," he muttered. "I'll have to go out and get some... I really don't want to."
Hugo smiled, "You can always lie here and just wait for your headache to go away."
Lysander thought about it for a second. "I'll be back in a minute."
He picked up a t-shirt, pulling it on, and walked out of the door. He just heard Hugo call out, "That's what I thought."
Hugo opened the floor length windows in his and Lysander's bedroom, Harry's bedroom, he reminded himself, and stepped out on the balcony to lean against the metal fence that stood between him and the ground below. He closed his eyes, letting the fresh air wash over him, thinking about what was going to happen when this was over.
Would he be pardoned? Would he have to go to Azkaban? Would his dad and uncle help him? Would they be disappointed?
Hugo didn't think he could handle Azkaban, the thought alone terrified him. He knew right then he would do whatever it took to keep that from happening; he didn't want to lose Lysander because of this. Again.
"I'll testify against them if necessary," he said to himself. "It won't make much difference to my situation; they want me dead anyway."
He looked around the room once. Would Xander and I live together after this? He shuddered at the thought of living in Lysander's apartment; it was too small and not his style. His own place wouldn't do either. We'll find somewhere.
He grinned imagining it; the positive thoughts outweighing the negatives. He turned his head to the left, towards the town, and spotted Lysander walking back. Then he looked further and froze; a car was following him.
Three men got out and Hugo recognized right away who they were; La Oscurità.
Hugo ran out of the room, to the kitchen and out the gate, but it was too late. He watched Lysander struggle against their restraints and they knocked him out as they got him into the van. "No!"
They shut the doors and drove away, but not before one man looked up and smirked at Hugo.
He stopped running, knowing he couldn't catch them, and stared in their direction, even after they had disappeared.
He knew where they were going. He knew where he had to go. He knew what he had to do and he knew he had to do it now. No more waiting, no more hiding. Game over.
It's all my fault.
A/N: In case you were wondering, the song Lysander chose is Everything I Do by Bryan Adams. The lyrics are just amazing and fit their relationship perfectly. :)
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