Discworld (Vimes/Vetinari)

[worblehat.livejournal.com]

Title: Eyes Veiled to the World
Author: worblehat
Fandom: Discworld
Pairing: Vimes/Vetinari
Rating: R
Prompt: Politics - "that little expression he had, which never, ever gave you a clue what he was thinking."
Word Count: 1,006


It had to be done. And he had to do it.

These two thoughts, simple yet heavy, ran through Vimes' head as he tapped one finger against the edge of his paper-decorated desk. It seemed to make the time go slower, as if he could measure out the seconds by sheer force of will.

He sighed and sat up, looking at the small, fancy sheet of paper requesting his immediate attendance. Sitting here for even thirty seconds after receiving such a notice was a bad idea, and Vimes had now sat there for ten sets of thirty. He was amazed to find that he was somehow still alive, not shot through the heart by an arrow or whatever it was that Assassins were using nowadays. Then again, it had been a while since Vetinari had used his former assets in public.

Or so it was assumed. The way Vetinari's eyes never seemed to settle fully on any one location certainly left Vimes feeling unsettled enough to suspect perhaps the Patrician ventured out to work on certain subjects pro bono. Though he would never ask, nor verify by other means. He did, after all, rather value his own life.

Or what was left of it.

"Come in," he said, the usual creak sounding outside his office, letting him know Fred Colon was worried and waiting.

Fred walked in, an impressed yet worried look on his face. He glanced at the paper on the desk, then at Vimes; he mopped at his brow and swore softly.

"How long's that been your desk, Sir?" he asked politely.

Vimes shrugged. "Don't know," he answered.

"Glingle-gleeple-gleep!" came a familiar tiny voice from his pocket. "It has been exactly - "

Snap!

"I'm not sure you're supposed to treat it like that, Sir," said Fred, smiling in spite of himself. "Those day planners're expensive."

Vimes sighed. He heard the sound of a chair being pushed back and realised he was standing. Saluting Colon, he laughed carelessly, a thin sheen of terror spreading down his spine; his laugh spiked upward, almost maniacal.

"Duty calls."

"Best of luck, Sir."

***

The room was empty when Drumknott shoo'd him inside, closing the door before Vimes could ask where in the devil the Patrician was hiding. He looked around at the walls, the paintings making him uneasy. It appears as if the eyes were moving and - knowing Vetinari - it was almost assured that they were.

Not even the sound of a click alerted Vimes to the appearance of Vetinari behind him. "You certainly took your time today," said the Patrician. "Busy day at the office?"

"You could say that," answered Vimes, struggling not to break out in a colder sweat than the one that had already begun without his approval.

Thin and nearly-translucent fingers encircled his wrist. They held firm as Vetinari stood before him, eyes dull and cold. "I'm not a fan of waiting, you understand."

Vimes gulped, feeling strangely comical without meaning to. The urge to laugh bubbled in his chest as his life passed before his eyes.

"I'm not going to kill you," said Vimes with a quiet sigh.

"Of...course not," said Vimes, exhaling a breath he hadn't known he was holding. He forced a chuckle which fell flat in the dead silence between them. "Sir."

"Yes?"

"Just how long do you plan on holdin' my hand like that?" asked Vimes, his cheeks feeling awkwardly warm.

"Not long," said Vetinari. "Just enough time."

"Enough time to what?" blinked Vimes.

And suddenly they were against the wall, Vetinari's eyes still dark yet somehow bright right in the center, at the pupil. "On a scale of one to ten," spoke Vetinari, his words just audible enough to reach into Vimes' conscious, "how unsettled would you say you are?"

"Ten," said Vimes without thinking.

"Good," said Vetinari, not making a sound as his hips shifted close. He pressed against Vimes, a solid erection rubbing just once along Vimes' thigh. "Now?"

"Er...doesn't go any higher than ten, does it?" asked Vimes.

"No." Vetinari's eyes remained on Vimes' as he pressed again; down, then up; back and forward, until despite his best efforts, Vimes began to grow aroused. Before he could open his mouth to speak, Vetinari's hips pulled back, his hand sliding between them to cup Vetinari, stroking him soft and slow through the Watch's uniform. Vimes' eyes opened wide, his mouth slack with lazy surprise.

"Eleven," he gasped, hands gripping tightly onto the Patrician's plain black suit as his body shuddered, release warm and sweet as it coursed through.

Afterwards, he would wonder why he hadn't simply closed his eyes, or why he hadn't pushed away. Well, the latter he could attribute to fear but the former was far more clouded - more confusing.

"That is all," said Vetinari.

Vimes didn't breathe again properly until he was in the safety of the Watch's walls, sitting under a ball beneath his desk.

***

"Sir?"

"Go away, Fred."

"But, Sir - "

"Now's not the time!"

"It's another note."

Vimes stood, wondering if his knees would ever hold him up solidly again. He walked towards the door, opening it, reached for the note with one swift movement and closed the door once more. His back against it, he considered the note, opening it seconds later with trembling hands.

I meant what I said about killing you.

Aha, thought Vimes as the world blackened around him. I knew Assassins had more than one way to kill. Though I wasn't expecting utter shock to do me in.

When Fred came upon his commanding officer lying face-down in front of his desk, it was a shock that stayed with him for many days after - which he would then share with any listening ear. What he wouldn't share was the rest of the message that Vimes would refuse to read once he woke:

Next time will be a twelve. I promise it.

Comments

[cadence-zero.livejournal.com]

..! I was reading along, quite happily, the atmosphere like a scene from the books. And then I got about to "how unsettled would you say you are?" and my brain crashed and went mggrephl.

This is, I think, a good thing. ♥

(This was one of the prompts I submitted, so: love.)

[worblehat.livejournal.com]

I just noticed how many typos there were in this that I didn't catch, so thanks for reading through them! Ahahahaha, I think that's probably a good thing too. This pairing is amazing.

Glad I could write something entertaining! Thanks for reading. ♥