Chapter Text
“Pretty, pretty please?” Harry asked, looping his arms around a dark neck and tilting his face upwards, standing on his tiptoes to press a series of kisses to lips that he could just barely reach.
Brishen raised an eyebrow, looking unimpressed by Harry’s efforts. “If you want pretty, go ask Devrim,” he said flatly.
Harry laughed, but he nudged Brishen lightly with an elbow. “Don’t let him hear you say that,” he said. “Unless you’re planning on spending the next few nights in his room.” Actually, that probably was Brishen’s angle, Harry realized. He still didn’t understand the dynamics of his Gheyo Suite fully—he probably never would—but it was impossible to miss how the two gravitated around each other. Devrim had gone so far as to have a small pool installed in his room specifically for Brishen and it was likely because of that gesture that the other Gheyos frequently used the Prince as a bargaining chip when they needed to convince Brishen to do something he wasn’t in the mood for. Unless it was Hadrian. Of all the Gheyo dynamics, the one between ACE and Joker was the one Harry understood the least. They’d tried to kill each other once. They frequently needled at each other, though not nearly as bad as Brishen and Alec or Hadrian and Wikhn. And yet, Brishen listened to Hadrian more than he did to Devrim and Hadrian had been the one gifted a feather. “And I really can’t ask Devrim, unless you want to come visit Hermione with me so he can go find it instead.”
Brishen scoffed. “Is that what put him in such a bad mood lately?” he asked. “Warn us next time. And why didn’t you ask Hadrian or Wikhn?” He glowered down at Harry as he spoke.
The Submissive paid the dangerous look no mind. “Dahlia borrowed Wikhn on behalf of Rook for a mission and Theo gave Hadrian a few extra missions so he could work off his bad mood, instead of letting him take it out on the rest of you. You’re welcome, by the way.”
“Wasn’t going to thank you for that,” Brishen returned, his glower growing stronger. “Only a month off is going to fix that particular mess.”
“I’ll talk to Theo about it,” Harry said, even though he was pretty sure that Theo had already planned on that. The Alpha was fully aware that despite their close connections to the other Circle, Dahlia was still a sensitive area for their ACE and King and, consequently, for the rest of the Gheyos. “So will you do this for me?”
Adding ‘for me’ was probably overdoing it a bit, but it was better safe than sorry and Harry really wanted what he was requesting.
“What did you do to need to go to such lengths?” Brishen demanded. “What are you apologizing for?”
Harry pouted at the questions. “You have absolutely no faith in me whatsoever,” he remarked. “I’m not apologizing for anything. I just wanted to do something special.”
He smothered a laugh as he watched Brishen’s mind work, because that was truly it. There was no apology, no anniversary, no birthday, no holiday. He just wanted to do something special for one particular Bonded, to let him know that he was appreciated and never overlooked. The same way that Harry would occasionally pull out all of the stops for any of his Bonded, whenever the mood struck.
“But why me?” Brishen grumbled. “Out of this huge nest you have, why me?”
“Because it would mean even more if you went and got it,” Harry replied immediately. “And because you’re really the only one that knows how to find it in the first place. There’s cinnamon in it, right? That’s how you managed to find it?” He laughed as Brishen scowled down at him.
“It has to be now?” Brishen asked, still grumbling and definitely not whining. Never whining. But at least it was grumbling and not snarking … yet.
“Pretty, pretty please?” Harry repeated.
The Gheyo sighed. The skin on his shoulders and arms rippled, a sign that his feathers were ruffling underneath everything.
Harry smiled sweetly, already knowing that he’d won. He’d won as soon as he’d asked it of Brishen—the Gheyo was being stubborn just for the sake of being stubborn, if only because Harry’s request involved Alec. Their relationship was much more amicable now than it had been during those first few weeks, and they really would do anything for each other now, Harry knew, but it would still involve a great deal of snarking at each other and sweet kisses from him or Bran—or the others, when both Water types were feeling particularly amenable to their attentions.
“Thank you,” Harry said softly, pressing another set of kisses to Brishen’s lips and cheek to settle the ruffled feathers. “I’ll let the others know that you’ve gone.” And in Hadrian and Theo’s cases, what Brishen had gone in search of. The where was still a bit of a mystery, though. It probably always would be.
An hour later, Idan came by to present Harry with a thoroughly drenched Fawkes, the phoenix trilling morosely in his arms.
The brunet winced. Petty. Very petty, but not entirely unexpected. At this point, letting Fawkes loose in Alec’s quarters was Brishen’s bizarre version of a parting gift—one that Alec didn’t always appreciate. Correction, one that he usually did not appreciate. “I really thought he was with Inanna,” he said, taking charge of the bird and starting to dry the feathers. Half the time nowadays, Fawkes was with Inanna and her Circle, reveling in the shared element. “Now I’m probably going to have to apologize…”
“Do I want to know?” the Gheyo Queen asked, sprawling across the top of the couch instead of sitting on the cushions.
“I was trying to be nice,” Harry sighed, making a small face.
Idan raised a brow. “And you went with Brishen’s version of nice?”
“I thought you liked Brishen’s version of nice,” Harry returned, lacing his voice with a hint of double meaning.
“I do,” Idan practically purred. “But I also know there’s a time and place for it.” The Gheyo sighed. “At least he knows that too. Unlike a certain someone else.” He raised his voice as he spoke, projecting it out into the hall.
“I know, I just don’t care!” Minh called back.
Idan simply huffed and rolled his eyes.
“Is Alec in a bad mood then?” Harry asked as he straightened and dried the last few feathers. He lifted Fawkes to his face, looking the phoenix in the eye. “You should really just start pecking Brishen when he tries to put you in Alec’s room. I don’t know why you put up with it.”
Fawkes simply ruffled his feathers before spreading red-and-gold feathered wings and taking flight, searching for a good spot to finish preening.
Idan snickered. “Is Alec ever in a good mood?” he asked, not expecting an answer. “But no, he’s not. Seemed to do it out of habit more than anything else.”
Well, that was something, at least. Hopefully, Alec’s mood would stay the same or similar for the next few days, until Brishen returned.