Archive of Our Own ^beta

Izzy found himself at the bar down the road nearly every evening after work. 

Divorce was such a headache, and as badly as he wanted to leave his job and give himself and Edward space, he couldn't afford it. He worked at a few tattoo parlors around town before he and Ed started up their own shop, and nobody wanted Israel Hands working for them. Israel was well known for beautiful black and white art, perfect shading, clean, etched lines that all healed remarkably; but he was picky and snarky. Clients loved Izzy's work and would pay plenty for his art, but they grew to hate his personality. Izzy was bitchy and rude and the whole town knew it. 

The only shop that would have him was The Queen Anne. Edward was his only option, unless he wanted to find another career.

It hadn't been a problem before. Before, Edward and Izzy were happy. They hired Jim to work with them shortly after they moved to the new store downtown. They had plenty of clients to help pay for the new employee, and with the new location, they were getting even more clients. 

It was the apprentice that was the problem.

Some know-it-all, weirdly professional and posh-looking man came in one day, and Edward was the first one to speak to him. Izzy didn’t know that would be the downfall of his marriage. 

Edward took on the stupid man as his apprentice named Stede– "Not Steve. Stede. With a D." 

Things were okay. Annoying and lonely, but okay. Edward spent so much more time with Stede. Izzy had to learn to tolerate the ponce’s constant presence at work. He could hear the man’s high-pitched voice over two tattoo machines, constantly babbling about nonsense.

Before, when Edward wasn’t busy, wasn’t with a client, he’d be with Izzy. It was sweet. After Stede came to the shop, Izzy only ever saw Edward at home. They went home after work together, ate dinner, and slept. Soon, Edward and Stede were spending time together after work. Then before work. Edward would get calls from Stede, taking them anytime that stupid personalized ringer went off, and be putting on clothes moments later.

Stede would pick him up and drop him off back home or at work, leaving Izzy to drive to the shop alone. Sometimes, he’d drive home alone. And that was fine. Edward had a new friend to obsess over. He got that way sometimes. He’d find something shiny and new and play with it until he got bored. 

Months went by, and Izzy only seemed to see Edward in the shop or when they were sleeping. One night, Edward didn’t even come home. Izzy knew Edward was shit at texting, and he hated calling even more. But that was no excuse. 

Izzy knew what was happening. He knew. He just didn’t want to accept it. He didn’t want to even think about it.

But that was exactly what happened.

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Working at the place where your husband worked, where your husband took on an apprentice who stole your husband away… and continuing to work there with both of them… it was humiliating. Izzy's heart ached. 

So Izzy drank. He drank after work for hours until he was numb, then would call an Uber to go to the shitty apartment he'd picked out. He’d drink quietly and think, stewing over his shitty marriage. 

Izzy was drinking there, nursing a dark whiskey when someone tapped his shoulder. Izzy looked up, squinting as he tried to focus on the two men beside him.

The farther one was a bald man with a scarred lip, and bright eyes, and the closer one… he was a handsome, younger man, with long, beautiful lashes and dark hair pushed back. His sideburns didn't exactly match the cute twink thing he had going for him, but it worked, oddly enough. 

As if Izzy cared. 

He looked over the young man with narrowed hazel eyes, as if he were trying to decide if the young man was a threat. As it turned out, he was. The man, named Lucius , was a threat to Izzy's sanity and had Izzy leaving the bar far sooner than he'd meant to.

Apparently, Jackie's bar was a favorite of Lucius'. The boy was there every few nights, drinking and meeting people, sometimes taking them home. 

Realistically, Izzy could have picked a new bar to sulk at. He would have been fine.

But he kept going to Jackie's. 

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He learned a few things about Lucius in the months that passed. Lucius was in a long, loving relationship with the balder man with the funny voice. Lucius was an artist, but worked as a scribe. And finally, Lucius was persistent. 

Any time Izzy was there, trying to drown his feelings away, when Lucius walked in, Izzy would be trapped for at least thirty minutes by the younger man's incessant babbling. He knew how to push buttons apparently, and he continued to push every single one of Izzy's. 

Lucius questioned his tattoos. The leather. The glove. His alcohol intake. How little food he’d been eating. His constant sulking. The ring. 

It was the question about his ring that got Izzy to really snap the first time. He turned on the barstool to look at Lucius face to face for the first time, and he sneered at the boy. "Don't-" he started, unsure of exactly what he wanted to say. Don't look at it. Don't talk about it. Don't think about it. Why? Having the pretty ring on display like that on his necktie just made it a centerpiece for public questions. He lifted a hand when he couldn’t finish his sentence, covering his ring and touching it cautiously, hiding it from view behind his hand.

"Woah, woah, Izzy. 'S just a question." Lucius backpedaled a little, though the little quirk in his lips said that he was just storing this information away for later. Izzy's outburst was definitely one he'd remember. “Don’t get in a tizzy, Izzy ,” he crooned. Izzy sneered and left after that, but Lucius was right back to badgering him. 

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Jackie’s bar was Izzy’s sulking place, but it was also Lucius’ playground. 

If Izzy wanted to avoid the annoying man, he’d have to find a new bar to frequent without the judgmental bartenders. But that was a lot of work for someone who didn’t really care enough to remove himself from extra misery. 

Lucius would pester Izzy every moment he got. Sometimes, Lucius was drunk, which led to Lucius being extremely annoying. He would touch Izzy all over, making Izzy squirm uncomfortably. Did he like it? He found himself conflicted at every one of Lucius’ advances, but for unanswerable reasons.

Lucius managed to sit next to him this time, leaning against Izzy as he blabbed about art and the way the human form moved and stretched only in specific ways for seconds– Izzy noticed the delicate way Lucius traced his forearm through his baggy shirt.

Edward had never touched him so slowly, so sweetly . 

Lucius didn’t even know Izzy and he was touching him like this.

Pete—that was his boyfriend’s name—had a cleft lip, hence the lisp. Pete knew about the way Lucius acted with others. Izzy had watched Pete for a while, taking in the man’s relaxed behavior as his partner flirted with other men, even taking them home . Pete was okay with things. Pete was okay with sharing , apparently. 

Izzy never knew any relationship to have a positive sharing aspect to it–and Edward was far too possessive to share.
What if Izzy was the one who'd needed to share? Would Edward have abandoned Izzy the way he had if Izzy had let Edward be free? Was it possible that Edward felt the need to choose, that sharing wasn’t an option? 

Izzy was exceptionally gloomy and distant that night, and Lucius could tell. Izzy wasn’t as irritable and snappy, and wouldn't even growl at the younger man for touching him or making sly remarks. 

Lucius took the opportunity of Izzy’s quiet despondence to turn the older man’s face toward his, his green eyes catching Izzy’s through his thick lashes, and Lucius’ voice took on a softer tone than Izzy had ever heard. “You doing okay, Iz?” he asked sweetly, voice even and patient. 

Izzy sighed quietly, his brow furrowing at the younger man, trying to comprehend the meaning behind the sweetness being given to him on a silver plate. Izzy didn’t get kindness. He didn’t deserve kindness. His hazel eyes flicked between Lucius’ own, frustration glazing over the melancholy in them before he spoke. 

"Don't you have a boyfriend to bother?" Izzy sneered, causing Lucius to chuckle, lifting his fruity drink to his lips and he took a sip from the straw, sticking his tongue out playfully.

"Yeah. But I wanna bother you," he crooned, smirking as he set his drink down and leaned back, stretching out and dropping his soft hand from Izzy’s face, letting it rest on his arm instead.

Izzy's face immediately twisted, his jaw clenching up. 

Of course the one person who showed any interest in Izzy was actually in another relationship. 

“Pete’s your boyfriend,” he hissed quietly, absolutely an accusation, but he didn’t pull away. Something in him kept him still, his arm staying under Lucius’ soft hand. 

Lucius must have seen the change in Izzy's face and he cocked a brow at Izzy. "It's okay, you know. 

We're open,” he chuckled softly, raising a brow as Izzy pulled away with a huff. 

Izzy bowed his head, his face pinching together even further in confusion as he thought through those words. He looked up again, picking up his whiskey and taking a sip. "'Open?'" he asked softly after a moment, completely stumped on what that meant. 

Lucius smiled lazily, shaking his head as he stirred his drink. "Pete knows. We don't own each other." Izzy figured that those words were supposed to put him at ease, but all it did was confuse him further. Izzy grimaced and knocked back the last of his drink, tugging out his wallet as he prepared to leave. 

Lucius stopped babbling about Pete, looking up as Izzy put some cash on the bar. "You're leaving already?" he asked, sucking at his teeth. 

Izzy grunted in response and got up, grabbing his jacket and smoothing at his hair. He left with too many loud, intrusive thoughts washing through his head as he started away from the bar and opened the Uber app. 

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It took Izzy a really long time to start to understand the idea of an open relationship. With Izzy's own issues, it was extremely difficult to wrap his head around the idea of sharing. Izzy had been married to Edward. They belonged to each other. Edward owned him. Edward owned Izzy– more than just the simple meaning of marriage. Izzy would always belong to Edward. Izzy firmly believed that, if soulmates were a thing, if they truly existed, Edward was his soulmate.

But that didn't mean that Izzy was Edward's soulmate.

Edward owned Izzy in so many ways, not just by the band that said they'd be together forever. After having so much of this ideology in his head, it was so difficult to even think about seeing somebody after his failed marriage. Edward was the one for Izzy. And if Edward was happy without Izzy… then that was Izzy's problem.

Izzy could probably survive without Edward. Izzy could survive without any sort of love or affection. If it wasn't from Edward, he didn't want it.

But Lucius… he made Izzy feel things. Lucius has stirred long-dormant emotions up and really shook Izzy's world. Lucius was special, a kind and funny man, a young and sly man that Izzy hadn't known the affections of since he was that age. 

He was like a diver at sea, Lucius the curious and persistent fish surrounding him and kicking up sand in his wake. All Izzy could focus on was Lucius and the mess of emotions and thought clouding everything he knew. 

He couldn't talk to Edward about it. And Jack was too drunk and knee-deep in pussy to bother. Izzy didn't have many friends, but he had a few acquaintances… and one he was fairly certain wouldn't lie or tell Edward.

As it turns out, Lucius was in a particular arrangement with Pete. Izzy didn’t even know about it until he asked Jim, at the shop days later, that polyamory was actually a thing. Much less that polyamory was different from those weird Mormon cults deep in the United States. 

Izzy Hands was a ball of tangled feelings and ignorant preconceptions of reality, and Jim’s relationship was confusing; good enough reason to pick Jim to help. 

"You know that Google exists for a reason, puto ." They really didn't want to be the person to explain modern relationships to somebody as old and traditional as Izzy. Even if Izzy was gay, that didn't mean he understood all relationship intricacies. He knew that asking Jim was silly. But he honestly didn't know exactly what to google. Even if he did Google, it probably wouldn't be enough. 

Jim helped, probably to get Izzy to leave, but they helped. Jim gave him a whole lesson while he unloaded his feelings on the Puerto Rican piercer between clients. They looked so uncomfortable and really awkward, but with Izzy’s spring-loaded lid on his emotions, Jim was the only one who could possibly deal with it. 

After Jim provided Izzy with ideas to google, some terms to think over and how open relationships seemed to work. But that was where the internet excelled. 

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Ping.

de.luciuss just posted a photo. 

Ping.

de.luciuss just posted a photo.

Ping.

de.luciuss just posted a photo. 

Ping.

de.luciuss just posted a photo. 

Izzy hated Instagram. He hated Facebook and Twitter, too, but he really hated Instagram. 

The only reason he had it was because of Lucius. Lucius took photos of them quite a bit, and he posted them all the time. When he kept getting comments about him and Izzy, he'd read them all and send screenshots to Izzy, but he'd begun to grow tired. 

"You know it'd be so much easier if you just had an account. It's not even that bad." He insisted, and quickly snatched Izzy's phone out of his hands. Within minutes, the app was now on his phone and Lucius was inputting his email– the good one, too. Lucius went ahead and followed himself on Izzy's account, then followed a few other friends- just the mutual ones that they both had, which weren't many. Most were coworkers of Izzy's from the shop, and the three customers they both knew. 

"There. Now when I post pictures of us, you can read the comments directly. And you can even argue with them about your looks instead of me. I agree with them, of course, but I know not to tell you directly." He’d shrugged, and flipped the phone in his hand, offering it back to Izzy with a smirk. 

Thinking back, it was a nice idea. He could look at pictures of Lucius without being weird about it. Since he was given the tools to do so, he's looked far too often on his alone time. 

But now, it seems like a curse. Every notification he got today, it was all Lucius and Pete. Videos of Pete's day with Lucius, full of them sharing brunch, having a fun walk through the nearby botanical gardens, ending with a fancy dinner with roses and wine…

Lucius was so happy.

Izzy hated Valentine's Day. He hated such personal displays of affection. He hated seeing Lucius so happy with someone else. He hated that Lucius would never have that much fun with Izzy. 

It was times like this when Izzy hated himself more than anything. He would never be good enough for Lucius. Lucius would never be as happy with him as he was with Pete. 

And they'd had this conversation before. Izzy didn't understand why Lucius liked him, especially when he had such an attentive, sweet boyfriend like Pete. Izzy was old and crotchety, broken, divorced and constantly hurting himself to make others happy and keep the shop in business. Lucius never had to deal with that. 

But... Lucius' kisses, the delicate hands he threaded into Izzy's greying hair… Izzy was too selfish to bring his self-conscious thoughts to his lips. He was just too touch starved. He wasn't going to fight Lucius' decision if he was going to be so lonely and miserable without Lucius.

He sighed, making a face as he scrolled past the posts. All he saw next was more sappy shit from other people he followed. 

Edward.. he was the only other person he really cared to see on his Instagram. But the posts from today were all of him and Stede fucking Bonnet out on the boat, having a little dinner by candlelight in the cabin. Izzy sneered as he swiped through the photos, that ache in his throat burning a little as he saw his husband– his ex-husband kissing that fucking ponce. 

He scrolled on, seeing fleeting images of Jim and Olu at a knife-throwing bar, Anne's posts of an expensive bourbon she'd gotten for Jack, Mary's new paint brushes from her new partner… 

Izzy tossed his phone aside, looking up at the ceiling of his bedroom, counting the times the fan blades passed above him. 

Why did Ed insist they close the shop for Valentine's Day? 

Lucius planned to spend the actual day with Pete, then the next day with Izzy, but... Ed had the key to the shop. He just wanted a good distraction. Izzy couldn't even give himself a tattoo with the shop locked up, and he didn't feel like drawing any new designs.

But he was stuck here, at home. In his bland, lonely little apartment he'd moved into before the divorce. Ed got to keep their house, but as soon as the divorce was finalised, he then promptly sold it to move in with the rich, snobby homewrecker. 

Izzy was stuck, counting the rotations of his fan with his phone vibrating through the bed every few minutes, the notifications boasting about how happy everyone was, how healthy and perfect their relationships were. 

And Izzy was alone.

His mind kept circling, coming back to the same question, over and over again, of why Lucius even wanted to bother with him?

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It took Izzy hours of self-deprecating guilt before he gritted his teeth and sat down at his computer. It was 6:40, and Pete had just posted pictures of himself and Lucius at a nice Italian place. 

Maybe Izzy could throw something together in the limited time he had. 

The one form of social media (if anyone could call it that) he liked was Pinterest. It gave him a plethora of ideas when you searched for specific words and when clients paid him to create, he drew inspiration from shitty Pinterest images. 

He'd never used Pinterest for anything but art inspiration, but tonight, he sucked it up and typed in "valentines gift".

Everything that showed up was covered in pink and roses and chocolates– the whole set of pictures before him had him grimacing. He didn't even celebrate the stupid holiday with Edward. He barely even felt it was a real holiday. 

Looking through the pictures, Izzy compiled a mental list of popular things to do for a significant other on this holiday- but Izzy had just begun to realize that he hadn't been with Lucius for long enough to even know what few things Lucius liked. 

He didn't know if Lucius liked milk or dark chocolate. He didn't know if Lucius liked flowers, or what type. He knew Lucius liked sex and teasing Izzy, so maybe Izzy could buy some flower petals and something sexy–no. That was too much like a real relationship. (Open relationships, outside of the core relationship, were never that serious, right?)

Out of all the adult gifts Izzy had seen, he was too unsure about any of them to think about it. So he moved on, continuing to look around. 

His phone buzzed, and he ignored the tingling against his thigh as he stopped scrolling, his mouse pausing over a terrible, handmade card. It was a child's gift, the writing in crayon and words misspelled as it recited an awful, sappy poem.

Could Izzy make something for Lucius?

Izzy wasn't that creative without some form of direction, but… with Pinterest on his side… he might be able to.

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Lucius had just left his and Pete's apartment. He'd had a wonderful day yesterday, with Pete doting on him to a ridiculous degree. Pete was so sweet and kind and so giving . It seemed like there was no end to how far Pete would go for Lucius. Some of the things that Pete did were so fucking gushy. Lucius probably could have done without it, but that was just Pete showing how much he cared. Lucius got the standard Valentine's Day treatment with roses on the bed and chocolates and flowers–everything. It was like Pete had read a book on how to treat your partner on Valentine's Day. 

He was almost excited to finally have some down time. He knew that Izzy wasn't a romantic like Pete was, so he was excited to spend the fifteenth with Izzy. 

Izzy was sweet in his own way beneath the prickly outer surface; kind of like a cactus.

Izzy said he’d never really done much with Edward on holidays, so Lucius wasn't really expecting anything from Izzy. Maybe they'd see a movie. What was more likely was that maybe they'd stay home and watch a new movie, curled up under the covers on the couch, with the lights low, and maybe they'd fall asleep together. 

Either way, whatever simple, soft way Izzy had devised to spend the holiday together, Lucius knew he'd be happy. 

So he headed over to Izzy's. He let himself in, throwing his keys on the kitchen counter as he entered. He was about to call for his boyfriend, but he stopped when he saw the mess on the kitchen table. 

Lucius stayed quiet, pursing his lips as he moseyed over and looked around. Nosy. That’s who he was. 

There were printouts scattered around Izzy’s laptop, pictures of flower arrangements, flower color meanings, various sappy Valentine’s day wishes. There were several pictures of jars with things inside of them, labeled with things like 'kisses for when I'm not around' and 'when you're feeling down' and images of scrapbooks with a collection of sappy songs. There were more personalized ideas, some images of lipstick-stained kiss marks on a Polaroid, two different handprints on top of each other… 

And even an old spiral notebook with Izzy’s chicken scratch writing on it, listing off some simple mushy ideas, some very particular to Lucius' interests. 

Lucius smirked to himself, moving around the table to look at Izzy's shitty laptop and shaking the mousepad to wake it up before he chuckled at the number of tabs open– a fair amount of them being Pinterest. 

The man never thought of himself as creative, but Lucius knew otherwise. He's seen Izzy's work, and the things he'd been paid to create, fully on his own , were beautiful.

Honestly, Izzy seemed to use the internet as a crutch. He always searched online for things to find inspiration or when he wasn't sure of something. 

Every single tab, as Lucius clicked through them, were all for different Valentine's ideas. 

Lucius wondered if Izzy had been pressured by someone to look into this; Izzy had said before that he hated Valentine's Day. He hated the obligation and the silly way of celebrating an old holiday that got commercialized for money.

Lucius smiled to himself and looked up, seeing a pile of bags on the coffee table, and more things on the floor surrounding it. He walked over to look closer, seeing freshly opened packages, and crafts scattered around. 

Izzy had been sitting on the floor, judging by the mess of important materials around a blank space. Scissors, a hot glue gun, glue sticks, pencils, color markers, and fancy white construction paper were scattered around the blank space next to the table.

A few silk flowers– yellow sunflowers and small, red roses, it seemed– were also on the floor, stems and leaves torn aside and bent in odd angles. There was one sunflower, half wrapped in black ribbon and a mess of hot glue turning the ribbon into a tangled twist around it. 

Clearly, an aborted mission. 

Lucius knew Izzy had his issues. Pete was confident and happy with his life but Izzy was almost the exact opposite. Izzy was one of the most insecure people Lucius had met– and not without reason. But he had a suspicion that the man’s insecurities didn't fully stem from his marriage. 

Even when it concerned things completely unrelated to relationships, Izzy seemed like he thought he didn't deserve nice things.

All the extravagant– that’s what Izzy called it–  things that Lucius had in his life, like special dietary foods, proper medication, hobbies and activities he enjoyed, and relaxing things around the apartment that made Lucius feel good… Izzy had nothing like that. 

Izzy had a delicate stomach and he still bought the worst food. When Lucius first started seeing Izzy, Izzy's freezer was full of Hungry Man frozen dinners. Not to mention the way Lucius thought Izzy had a gluten allergy and simply ignored it. 

The blankets he had on his bed were awful and scratchy and Izzy complained about them all the time. He had old sheets and lumpy pillows and Lucius had a hard time convincing Izzy to get rid of them– and Izzy just put them away in a box.
Those awful blankets and pillows were some of the last things he and Edward owned together; they’d bought them when they moved into their first apartment together in their twenties. Izzy got stuck with them because Edward didn't want them anymore. Izzy was a fragile mess of a man, clinging to scraps that his ex-husband left in the wake of their divorce.

He didn't have any sort of things around his house that were simply for his enjoyment. Izzy had his sketchbooks for work but he didn't draw for leisure like Lucius did. Izzy liked to read, but he didn't have any books.

Lucius would bring him some books and read to him some days and Izzy would trade off with him and read aloud to him; but he always insisted that Lucius take his book back. He didn't want any of Lucius's things to stay and get ruined or forgotten.

Lucius ended up having a long talk with him after the older man let that opinion slip.

Izzy was encapsulated by a tough outer wall due to the demanding life he'd had and Lucius was having a hard time finding an entryway. It was as if, after the divorce, Izzy somehow managed to build another hard wall on top of the one he had before. Lucius had needed to break down each layer of the protective walls that Izzy built around himself– and every piece that Lucius pulled apart ended up getting built back up behind Lucius's back. 

Knowing that the tough shell Izzy had around himself wasn’t going anywhere was hard to accept. Lucius may not ever be able to tear that wall down, so he'd come to sort of accept it. 

He'd managed to get Izzy to stop fighting him whenever he complimented the older man. He’d found a way to give Izzy what he needed, to show him affection and enjoyment without getting into an argument. Izzy was adapting to being in a healthy relationship. 

Knowing how rough and prickly Izzy could be… seeing all these little crafts and ideas strewn about Izzy's bleak apartment had Lucius' heart jump into his throat.

Izzy had opened a part of his wall to Lucius. He moved just a few bricks to reach out and touch him.

The list of things that Izzy had scratched on the paper, the printouts of gifts that people would normally give on Valentine's Day were surely alien to Izzy- but he was trying.

Izzy was trying to communicate with Lucius in a way that he himself didn't understand but he knew Lucius did.

“Good god!” Lucius jumped when he heard the front door open, spinning around to see Izzy coming in, two plastic bags full of things; one definitely had liquor in it, another had more silk flowers. Izzy paused as soon as the door shut behind him, his tanned skin darkening up to his ears when he saw Lucius already in his apartment. 

“The fuck are you already here for?” Izzy grumbled, moving to sit the bags down on the kitchen counter, his demeanor visibly deflating in defeat. 

Lucius tsked at Izzy’s brash words, pursing his lips in a fake pout. “Maybe I missed you. Or maybe it was just your dick. Guess we’ll never know,” he crooned, taking in Izzy's appearance–he looked so tired –before throwing his arms out expectantly. 

Izzy had learned what Lucius meant when he did certain things, and holding both arms straight out like he was doing now was a sign, one Izzy learned quickly, for ‘ I want a hug.’ Izzy complied, dropping his keys onto the counter and trudging the few feet across the small kitchen to hug the taller man. Izzy was tense ( when wasn’t he ) and he heaved a sigh as he pressed his cheek against Lucius’ bare collar bone. Lucius smiled at the contact and encircled his arms around the smaller man, hugging him sweetly as Izzy’s breath tickled his chest. Izzy's nice, collared shirt was soft under his hands; it was so like Izzy to get properly dressed on his day off. 

“How much did you see?” he grumbled softly as his hands rested on Lucius’ hips, tentatively, like he was ready to be pushed away. 

“Oh, you know. The lot of it. Surprised you passed arts-and-crafts in elementary school,” Lucius snickered, holding Izzy tighter as he grumbled something and began to squirm. 

“Alright, you–” he grunted, and finally wormed himself out of Lucius’ arms. “Fucking twat,” he huffed, turning back to his bags and pulling out a bottle of pre-mixed, ready to drink strawberry daiquiri– the type he hated and knew Lucius enjoyed. “Take it and leave if you’re gonna just insult me,” he growled, nodding his head toward the alcohol before he pulled out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, and Lucius paused when he saw the redness on his left hand. 

Izzy’s hands had always been an odd subject. He wouldn’t say why he had burns on his right hand, and he said he wore the glove for support as he drew and tattooed. But he always wore the glove whenever he was out. He took it off during sex and while sleeping and showering, but he always had it nearby. But that was Izzy’s right hand. Izzy had hurt his left. 

Lucius immediately stopped, grimacing as he took the pack from Izzy, setting it on the counter, causing Izzy to protest. Lucius was already looking at the long, red marks on his fingers and the raw spot between his thumb and index, just above the spade tattoo. “What did you do?” Lucius asked softly, lifting his basil green eyes to see Izzy’s fall, his thin lashes hiding his eyes too well. 

He grumbled something else, his head dipping further down, like a dog who’s dug yet another hole in the yard, and Lucius sighed as well, grabbing Izzy’s chin and guiding his face up to make him meet his eyes. Izzy’s mouth twitched into a sneer and he met Lucius’ eyes with a halfhearted glare. “Did you burn yourself on the glue gun?” he asked softly, trying not to laugh and break the fragile moment Izzy was in. It was fucking cute and so funny, but he knew if he laughed Izzy would push him away. 

Izzy huffed a sigh and nodded slightly, dipping his eyes down. “‘M not good at this sappy shit,” he grumbled, and Lucius nodded, letting go of Izzy’s chin to bring his injured hand to his lips. He gingerly pressed a kiss to Izzy’s knuckles, careful not to touch the burned areas, and started moving toward the fridge, tugging Izzy along. 

“I know,” he hummed, getting a bag from the cabinet above the fridge before opening the freezer and grabbing a handful of ice to put in it. “It’s okay. You don’t have to be. And the fact that you care so much is sappy enough, ‘kay?” he smiled, bringing the ice bag to Izzy’s hand. 

Izzy glared at him, his hazel eyes flicking back and forth between Lucius’ own, as if trying to decide if Lucius was fucking with him. There was the insecurity again. 

Lucius waited, and Izzy waited. The insecurity didn’t fade, even with the complete eye contact and Lucius’ soft expression. Izzy cracked. His face began to crumble, and he pulled his hand away. “Fuck off. It’s stupid,” he grumbled, grabbing the bag of ice and then the new bag of crafts, taking it away and to the coffee table. He started picking up things and putting them on the table or throwing them in the bag. 

“Iz. Hey.” The younger man groaned, following Izzy. He plopped himself down onto the awful couch, and grabbed at Izzy before rolling backward, yanking the older man up and onto the couch with him. 

Izzy immediately started yelling, squirming and fighting, and Lucius wrapped his arms around Izzy tightly, hugging him close. “Izzy. Calm down.” he crooned quietly, letting his soft breath fan over Izzy’s cheek. “I love it. Everything you’ve done-or, I guess, what you’ve tried to do. It’s sweet,” he insisted, and the other man made a noise, similar to a growl. 

“I didn’t expect anything special, Izzy. You said you didn’t do holidays, and I accepted that,” he started, and Izzy curled up like a millipede, somehow tensing up further. “ Thank you , Izzy,” he breathed, pressing a kiss to Izzy’s stubbled jaw, and Izzy twitched. Lucius knew his jaw was sensitive. 

“Valentine’s ‘s fuckin’ stupid. None of this shit makes sense and isn’t the whole idea that you love someone good enough?” Izzy stammered, continuing to squirm in Lucius’ arms, until he stopped completely, and Lucius lifted his head to look at him. 

Izzy’s whole face loosened up. His body was still tense but his face went from angry and frustrated to.. What was that? “Oh.” His lip twitched. 

“ Oh ? Izzy, what-” 

Izzy crumpled, losing any fight left in him as he whined- no, he was crying . Israel Hands, the hardass, bitchy tattoo artist, was crying in Lucius’ arms, heart wrenching noises leaking from his throat as Lucius pulled him tighter against his chest, turning them on the couch so they were both on their sides, spooning Izzy as he tried to give the man comfort. 

Izzy made a few sounds that sounded like words, but nothing Lucius could really comprehend. He shushed Izzy and ran his hand over Izzy’s chest, the other arm pinned down by Izzy’s desperate grip. 

Lucius didn’t know, but he was sure Izzy just realized something about Edward. 

Izzy was fairly tight-lipped about his emotions, and Lucius knew he couldn’t get him to talk unless he wanted to, so all he could do was console Izzy. Izzy quieted after a little while, and eventually he relaxed against Lucius. In the end, Izzy cried himself to sleep in Lucius’ arms. Only then could Lucius move the arm Izzy gripped onto for dear life, allowing the pins and needles to dissipate while Izzy slept, and Lucius waited, letting himself snooze beside the smaller man.

x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x

Izzy woke, pinned between a warm, soft body and his awful, hard couch. 

His head hurt. His hand hurt. His eyes burned. And he remembered what sent him into a frenzy before that brought the need to sleep it off. 

His breathing pattern changing must have alerted Lucius to his consciousness, and his hand, now tucked between them, brushed at Izzy’s back softly. His other hand moved to touch Izzy’s jaw, tipping his head back. “Hey. You okay?” Lucius asked, voice soft and sweet like usual, but slow and devoid of any humor.

Izzy tipped his head away and groaned as he turned around, his hip popping audibly as he moved. He huffed as he settled back down, looking up at Lucius solemnly. “Think it was my fault,” he mumbled, giving into the quiet reality he had to deal with.

Lucius’ head tipped to the side and he frowned, ready to argue. “I must not have.. shown him how I loved him,” he continued, his eyes welling up. “Maybe I was the reason there was no love for Edward to miss…”

The other man started shaking his head, looking down at the darkness between them, but Lucius knew not to interrupt. “Maybe I was the reason Edward found love in someone else.”

Izzy went quiet, his eyes glazing over in that way that happened when he was lost in his head, and Lucius pulled him back, tapping on his chest. “Did you catch what you just said?” he asked, looking up at Izzy. His face scrunched up at that, about to ask what the fuck he was on about when the younger man kept talking. “You said ‘ loved. ’” Izzy paused, his brain freezing up as he tried to comprehend what Lucius was saying. “You’ve never said it in past tense, Iz.” 

“Because he loved me and–” 

“Yeah. He loved you. You’ve always said you love him,” Lucius pointed out, raising his brows a little, his lips still solemn. “Do you still love him? Honestly? After everything he’s done to you?” he asked, and Izzy grimaced, shutting his eyes again. Why did he have to wake up? 

“I married him. Of course–”

“Yeah. And now you’re divorced. He’s ignored you, cheated on you, hurt you. He took your home, the last twenty-thirty years? You still love him, after he left you in shambles, drinking at bars every night and going home to a shitty apartment?” Lucius started going off, and Izzy felt him shift on the couch. 

“Edward was my first real…” Izzy couldn’t finish the sentence. It hurt too bad. And the tears started coming again. 

“Edward’s a dick, Izzy,” Lucius spat, and Izzy opened up his bleary eyes to look at him. “He’s hurt you so much. He’s set you back so many years. You’ve had to relearn everything about love.” Izzy’s brow furrowed, but he didn’t speak up. “You went through hoops to try and make a holiday you don’t care about special. For me.” 

“And if I had done that–” Izzy began, and Lucius shushed him. 

“You did it for me. Even if you had done it for him, it would have changed nothing. You gave your life to him, and he squandered it. It wasn’t your fault,” Lucius insisted, his eyes soft and full of love. Izzy moved a hand to scrub at his eyes. 

“You loved him,” Lucius repeated. “Say it.” 

It took Izzy a good minute to even think about doing as he was told, but he sniffed, swallowed at the lump in his throat. “I loved him.”

“Do you still?”

“I don’t know,” Izzy began, taking a shaky breath.

“You loved him. That can’t be present tense, Izzy. Think of what he did to you. He broke your vows, broke your heart. Do you still love him?” Lucius pressed, and Izzy squeezed his eyes shut again. 

“Do you?” Lucius asked again when Izzy didn’t answer, his thumb stroking soft arcs into Izzy’s arm. 

Izzy shook his head.

“...No.” 

Lucius went quiet as Izzy began crying again, floodgates opening and releasing the pent-up feelings within. Lucius pulled him upright, moving them from their laying position to sitting up, and tugged Izzy into his lap, letting him cry out into his collar bone.

It took awhile for Izzy to calm back down, and when he did, Lucius quietly took him to his bedroom, helping him undress. The man was clearly distraught, and with the dark circles under his eyes, Lucius figured that a proper nap would help him a little. 

Lucius untied Izzy’s necktie, pausing as he looked at the ring there, and he slipped it off of the fabric, looking at the emerald stone with something similar to contempt. 

Izzy watched as he did this, and he swallowed before he held out his hand with a sigh. Lucius set the ring down in his hand and Izzy turned it to look at it himself. 

“Green reminds me of you, Iz. ‘S your color.”

Izzy sighed, closing his fingers around the ring and turning, moving across the room. He opened the closet and pulled down a box– the one with his and Edward’s pillows and blanket. 

Izzy was slow and steady as he opened the box, shuffled around the pillows to create a cradle- barely noticing the teardrops that splattered on the pillow as he set the ring in the small crater. His jaw trembled and he set the other pillow on top it and folded the box flaps back together. He gingerly picked up the box and put it back on the shelf in his closet, shutting the door. 

He turned to see Lucius there, right beside him, with the most supportive smile and fond eyes he’d ever seen on the young man. 

If it weren’t for Lucius… who knew where Izzy would be.