halloween is getting closer! :D here's a fic :DDD (also on ao3)
"I see," said Lester von Brandt, and nodded. "Then let's get married."
"...What?" Greg asked far too late, Lester had already whipped out a fun and, because he always muttered it out loud when he was using the search bar, Greg knew full well he was looking up how to get married to a guy as quickly as possible.
"You won't part with the vase. It's a family heirloom. I've already offered you lots and lots of money, which you've declined. You have absolutely no interest in negotiating with me, correct?" Lester looked at Greg over his elegant silver glasses, and Greg nodded, blinking. "So we'll get married. Then it'll be my 'family heirloom' as well. Problem solved."
Then Lester lit up, his expressionless face twisting into the smallest and yet somehow the prettiest smile Greg had ever seen, Lester apparently finding what he was searching for, and Greg looked at him and thought, huh.
Marriage.
"You're a millionaire," Greg pointed out, "I'm pretty sure you can't just marry whoever."
"I don't give a fuck," said Lester, brows furrowing as he read something. "I'm marrying you, I'm getting that vase, and we'll live happily ever after."
"...Huh," said Greg, and leaned back on his chair. Lester had been trying to get him to sell it for over half a year; probably, Greg though, Lester had had some kind of breakdown because he wasn't used to being told no. He was kind of mean, really, and stiff, tight-laced, and remarkably driven to get everything he wanted. They'd spoken far too often, as Lester made his offers and his thinly-veiled threats, and then escalated to
no subject
halloween is getting closer! :D here's a fic :DDD (also on ao3)
"I see," said Lester von Brandt, and nodded. "Then let's get married."
"...What?" Greg asked far too late, Lester had already whipped out a fun and, because he always muttered it out loud when he was using the search bar, Greg knew full well he was looking up how to get married to a guy as quickly as possible.
"You won't part with the vase. It's a family heirloom. I've already offered you lots and lots of money, which you've declined. You have absolutely no interest in negotiating with me, correct?" Lester looked at Greg over his elegant silver glasses, and Greg nodded, blinking. "So we'll get married. Then it'll be my 'family heirloom' as well. Problem solved."
Then Lester lit up, his expressionless face twisting into the smallest and yet somehow the prettiest smile Greg had ever seen, Lester apparently finding what he was searching for, and Greg looked at him and thought, huh.
Marriage.
"You're a millionaire," Greg pointed out, "I'm pretty sure you can't just marry whoever."
"I don't give a fuck," said Lester, brows furrowing as he read something. "I'm marrying you, I'm getting that vase, and we'll live happily ever after."
"...Huh," said Greg, and leaned back on his chair. Lester had been trying to get him to sell it for over half a year; probably, Greg though, Lester had had some kind of breakdown because he wasn't used to being told no. He was kind of mean, really, and stiff, tight-laced, and remarkably driven to get everything he wanted. They'd spoken far too often, as Lester made his offers and his thinly-veiled threats, and then escalated to
Huh. Maybe Greg wanted to marry him.