The case was boring. Really boring. It was more fun in court but right now, it was just driving him nuts. It was just pawing over tedious details and trying to find something worth worrying over for some reason. That was how Kian did it. He liked to find problems and then worry about them. There was no problem, none of it really mattered. Whatever didn't work, he'd get rid of anyway.
Closing his eyes, he huffed in annoyance and fumbled inside his suit jacket until he found his pill case. He popped it open and slipped two into his mouth, washing it down with the shitty sparkling water they always had in these offices. It was more fancy or whatever.
"The 25,000 quid traded over is easy to get rid of." Now it had come to him, it was obvious. "It's sex."
"Not everything is sex." Debatable, he supposed. Most things could be, he supposed. Kian turned to look at Taliesin, taking note of the pills he took. He had yet to find a way to stop him from taking anything, but at least he was getting good at gauging when it was no longer worth talking to him because he was too far gone. "If you want to make it sex, why the secrecy? It's the Nineties. No one's embarrassed over a couple of prostitutes any more."
Especially not in those circles. He shrugged, not overly impressed. "Can't just make it about sex and call it a day."
"Oh no, sex is ordinary now. No one cares about fucking a secretary or getting a whore. It's boring, no one wants to do it any more. It's like old news. Nah, you pay 25,000 then it's kinky. You're fucking trafficked virgin girls from the Congo or really into watching your wife fuck an orangutan or a chimp - it happens, how do you think everyone ended up with AIDS?" it was topical and scandal worth. Besides, it would make this dry and boring case have a little spice.
"Or maybe they're just two queers who need to pay a girl to have a threesome with them cause they're shy and oops, oh no, suddenly they're just fucking each other. Now they're being blackmailed. That shit can ruin your life." He banged his hand on the table insistently. "25,000 to avoid being a faggoty little AIDS dispenser to the public. Bingo-bango, I'd take the fucking deal."
"25,000 seems cheap for that. Maybe not the threesome, that could work. Though now you have to factor in whether our clients will admit to being poufters sooner than they'd just confess their daft murder plot." Honestly, seemed like a toss-up. They weren't the kind of man who had any security in their masculinity whatsoever. Kian tossed the file to land on the desk and shrugged.
"We'd have to prep them, if we want to lay out their kinky sex life as proof." He made a face as he conjured up images of their clients in their head. Ugh. "Just hope there's no faggot in the jury. No way anyone would believe either of those two are fuckable."
"Who says they have to agree? If we put it out there in court and they try to double back then people will still think it. And that's all that matters. We plant the seed of doubt. No one in their right mind would admit to that sort of thing in court - it's almost more believable if they deny it." He usually just threw things out in court and saw how the client went along with it before he made decisions. He never bothered 'prepping' clients before.
"If there's a queer in the jury, he'll feel it's relatable. Chicks are always full of empathy for weirdos and men would soon believe a guy is hiding he's homo than hiding he's an assassin." Honestly, it seemed fool proof. "The problem with you is that you overthink it with all your 'proof' and 'facts' but anything can be fact if you make it fact."
"I just like getting paid by my clients in the end, not get sued for defamation." Of course, he expected his supposed mentor there dealt with those potential law suits in much the same fashion. "Well, we can try. People like the queer representation as long as it's pathetic like that, they might go for it."
Besides, he'd heard enough homophobic quips from their clients to find the thought of fake outing them on the stand pretty entertaining. "Still leaves the issue of the gun. What was that for, fucking each other up the arse?"
"Rape kink! A little non-consensual kidnapping. Making him suck a gun and call him bitch, all kinds of dirty shit. And that's when the girl realised that she was not being paid enough. 25000 is better. More forgiving." He waved his hand in dismissal as he patted himself down until he found his cigarettes. He wasn't supposed to smoke, he had like 5000 lectures on smoking from his doctors and case workers and fucking therapist but he wasn't gonna quit. He got bored without them.
"And you know, you pitch it right, you could convince them it was just a fun, deadly dildo if you want. I believe in you, kid. You got this."
Leaning back in his chair, he exhaled loudly. "Ah, this is a piece of piss. We'll win no problem."
"Please. If we need someone to convince people of the pleasures of arse play, you've got seniority. I'll defer to you in that matter." Kian tipped his hat to him, metaphorically, then leaned forward to pick up the lighter Taliesin had left on his desk earlier, before he'd start tearing through things to find it. He lit it and held it out for the man. Probably easier when someone whose hands didn't shake did it.
"Threesome, prostitution, some fun faggotry... Won't be a boring day for the jury." Which, he supposed, was all that really mattered to Taliesin. Maybe he had a point, at least in this case.
"It's boring otherwise. People can deal with a lot but not boring. And I don't blame them, I hate that shit." He let Kian light him up and blew the smoke upwards, watching it hit the ceiling. Hopefully this place had the smoke alarms removed, like he'd done in his house. "I can tolerate a lot of crap. I don't care about race, sexuality, what you did last weekend that you want no one to know about. Live and let live, just don't bore me with it."
He got himself up and strolled over to the window, wondering how much longer it would piss it down for. "Let me handle the cross examination, you can do the boring crap you like so much and we'll split the slow and methodical destruction of the prosecutor." Seemed like a fair deal.
Obviously, Kian had been here before. Too often, in that bizarre version of an office filled with paraphernalia of the glory days, drugs and just general gaudy and bad taste. Not at all Kian's aesthetic, but whatever. He could deal with it. Taliesin was eccentric, rather obviously so. He didn't mind his taste in suits and he had gotten used to most other things.
But he'd just been held in a police station over literally nothing, with no evidence and very clearly just because Taliesin willed it to be so. And what Taliesin wanted, Taliesin got.
He was about to get an angry Scotsman in his precious fucking office. Kian unlocked the door and slammed it open, then let it fall shut behind him as he moved further into the place. "Are you fucking satisfied now, limp dick? Did that at least get you the hell off, or can't you get it up long enough for that either? Fucking waste of both our time then, shithead. Stupid Welsh cunt."
"My dick was plenty hard last night, I had a really good wank. Nice, long, had a little help from a girl in the club. It was a shame you weren't there but you know what they say? Crime doesn't pay." Seeing Kian this upset was beautiful. He hated him, he really did, stupid smarmy little brat was trying to screw him over. Cutting deals on their case behind his back, when he specifically told him not to?
Fuck him and fuck that. He was there, sitting on his ridiculous golden throne, looking smug and very pleased with himself. And there he was, he was just in his boxers, a waistcoat and a shirt. Clearly he'd been working hard in his 'office'.
"I told you not to fuck me over, kid. You tried to fuck me so I fuck you harder." He wasn't going to let this dumb punk have any ground on him. "And I hope you did get fucked hard. Cavity search?" Hopefully.
"If you think that this was me fucking you hard, then you've never been fucked properly." There was actually a shock, given the kind of sex this mad old bloke clearly went for. "I'm a faggot, you wanker. Not the first time a bunch of cops tried to fuck me over, just the first time they were the sissy bunch you've paid off."
Kian scoffed, stepping closer to Taliesin and putting his hands down on the ridiculous man's ridiculous desk in front of his ridiculous throne. "You were the one who left an opening. You were the one bending over for me and then you go crying to the cops when you can't take that dick up your arse? What's next, Tallie? Are you gonna call your mommy on me?"
God, the way this little punk spoke to him. He stood up, annoyed at having to, and came over to Kian. He had height and weight over the little punk so he didn't overly feel intimidated. "I never bent over for you, do you hear me? You wanna watch what sort of bullshit you say. Cause I ain't the bending type. And you know what? I'm getting real sick of you talking about my parents."
He grabbed Kian by the collar of his suit and yanked him close, snarling in his face. "You better start getting some manners, boy. Don't make me hurt you cause I fucking will. I was generous this time. Do you get that? I could have had you serving."
"Then I reckon I should be fucking grateful to you, you old cunt, eh?" That snarl, he always did that snarl. Kian had seen it entirely too often for it to have much of an effect on him. "If it wasn't for me, you'd be out. You bloody know that. So if you want me falling in line, make it worth it. Stop dicking me around."
Taliesin was bigger than him, sure, but he wasn't taller and he doubted he was notably stronger, given he was recovering from heart surgery. Kian wasn't feeling overly intimidating. "I'm not your fucking assistant. I'm your partner. Ain't that just a treat for us both?"
"I don't need you. I never need you. I would be just fine by my fucking self but I don't get to do that? And I was being all nice to you, you were learning and all that good shit and suddenly, you want to stab me in the back. And I fucking warned you about stabbing me in the back." Without giving Kian any warning, he was suddenly slamming him into the desk, fingers gripping his suit jacket tight as he tried to pin him against it so he could fucking choke him.
He knew it was true, on some level, he just didn't want to think about it. He didn't want to think about losing his job and having to live without being a lawyer. He hated that even now, his grip was weaker than it used to be, that his hands trembled and hell, his vision was swimming. That was the stupid blood pressure or heart or something. It didn't matter.
It just wasn't fair. "You might steal my job, you might get some good cases and some prestige, sure, but you're already fucked. They set you up to fail. And let's be real here, daddy's boy, it ain't your shiny recorded they fancied. They just liked your surname."
Kian put his hands in front of his chest to pull Taliesin's arms apart, not about to actually let himself get choked. Still, he didn't make too much of an effort of fending the man off, mostly because somewhere in the back of his head he did remember the exhaustive list of things Taliesin was supposed to avoid - such as strenuous exercise - and he knew how he very much didn't avoid any of them. He was responsible for Taliesin's health, whether either of them wanted him to be or not.
But then he brought up his father, his surname, like that, and he didn't think about being considerate any more. He didn't think at all, he simply shoved forward and then immediately slipped past Taliesin, simply so he could pin him to the desk instead. He didn't bother trying to spin him around, so he was essentially forcing the man to bend over the desk.
"You don't fucking know a thing about me and what I'm capable of. But I know everything there is to know about you. I know you used to be great. I also know just how washed up you are now."
He put a hand at the back of Taliesin's neck now, to try and force him down further, at the same time moving close against him to bodily pin him to the desk. "I'm not here for you to fuck over. They don't pay me enough for that."
Instead of panicking, he was laughing. Taliesin laughed, excited and amused, as he fought against the hand on his neck. "Oh woah, now we got to the pressure point. Oh dear, it's really is dearest daddy. Oh, you stupid boy, you don't see it, do you?" He laughed and lost his grip, his head hitting the desk in a very unpleasant way. Eh, whatever, who cared? This would soon pass but what he had now was beautiful.
"I was there when they did the new hires, before my heart went whizz bang. They liked you for your daddy, not for you." His laugh was mocking despite his position, just glad he had something.
That brat had brought his parents up too much for comfort and fucking rubbed it in that his career was dying and his body was following. It was time to get under his skin too. "Oh, if he's anything like his dad, he's a sure sell. And if he isn't, he's another hands on deck. I was there, I know. They asked me but I couldn't give a shit about new hires. I always assume they all have reputable daddies like you."
"Isn't that your therapist?" Kian had been looking out into the hallway mostly to find something shiny to point out to Tally so he'd not mock him over what he had for lunch again - he didn't really care, but it could get tedious. He hadn't expected to find something, or someone, of actual interest out there.
Holden looked lost, even more so with a secretary evidently trying to convince him to leave. He got the message, his case really wouldn't be taken by anyone here - there had been some very condescending and homophobic suggestions instead - but he wanted to at least check in with Taliesin while he was here. Might as well make this not a total waste of his time.
"He wouldn't come here, he's not a stupid fuc-- oh. Shit." He turned his head, totally corrected, as he looked at Holden. Why the fuck was he here? Maybe he wanted to hang out. Strange, he always was like 'no, you can't come over, we're not friends' and now here he was. Must have been bored. Or maybe he was mad at him for skipping the last session because of a hangover.
Getting up, he shoved the door open and called out loudly across the way. "Oi! Holden? What are you doing here?" The secretary turned and he held up his hand. "I know him. Get your skinny arse in here, I'd rather be looking at you than this berks poncy lunch." Fucking low carb whacko.
"All right, Tally." Holden nodded his head as he walked into the office, which he felt was still ridiculously oversized for only having two people in it. "Hello." The other man, Kian, definitely looked familiar and he knew who he was from Tally's stories, but obviously he was a professional.
Kian nodded his head and finally opened up his salad. This might be the distraction he needed. "Nice to meet you. Have a seat." Whatever would keep Tally occupied.
"I don't want to interrupt your lunch break," Holden said, awkwardly hovering in the door, "I can-- Is that what you're eating?" He looked at Tally's desk and, more precisely, the bag there. Which was a brown paper bag that had gotten translucent from all the grease. "Fucking hell, mate, I look at that and my arteries blow up!"
"Careful, yelling about blowing up with that accent," Kian pointed out, amused more than anything. Holden did close the door. Point, he supposed.
"It's not that bad, It's healthy grease. Besides, it's egg, that's protein, and bacon, also protein. And I already ate my doctor's special lunch thing, it's handled, now I can have fun." He sat back in his seat and took a large bite out of his sandwich, not letting these two get to him. He ate whatever the doctor said, he just ate other things too. "As much as I love our alone time together, I'm at work. If this is chasing me up about Friday, I already told you - I was wrecked."
And to him, that was a perfectly acceptable excuse. He pulled some bacon off his sandwich and flicked it at Kian's meal. "Eat something proper. Dickhead."
With a roll of his eyes, he looked back at Holden, expectant. "Well?"
Kian moved his bowl aside to avoid the bacon and made a face, but said nothing. Getting bacon flung in his direction was becoming a common occurrence. Also, there were tears in Holden's eyes, so bickering about healthy food choices seemed a bit lower in priority.
"They want to take Gideon away from me." Holden was trying to keep it together. Today had been stressful, however. Emotionally taxing. And he had never felt quite as negatively gay and Irish before. "I-- I'm just trying to find a lawyer, really. I know I can't afford you."
"You don't deserve him either," Kian said helpfully. He felt Holden could do better.
"Do you know anyone?" Holden asked Tally, taking a deep breath. "I've got money. Just not that much."
"Why do they want to take the pip from you?" He could work it out, based off who he was and all but they let him get this far with the kid, all to take it back? How the hell did they do that? Seemed cruel. Holden never should have had the kid to begin with, just wasn't fair to tease a fag with a real life.
He used his foot to push a chair out for Holden and then set his sandwich aside. Yes, he paused eating for this.
Since he had a heart attack, the only person he could talk to was Holden and he was always a good lad. He was nice, even tempered and wasn't afraid to tell him off. And his kid was cute too, even if he thought Tally was a scary yeti man. "You were playing house and now you ain't - what changed?"
"They released the father from jail and they want the kid back." It had been months and, really, that homophobic bastard deserved years for what he'd done, but that wasn't how the system worked. Holden sat down in the chair, running his fingers through his hair and trying to calm down enough to even begin a semblance of order here. "Gideon doesn't want to leave me. He's-- He's so scared of them. His parents. They ain't treating him right. Never have."
How was this fair?
Kian set his salad aside, already a pen in his hand and some paper in front of him. "Why was the father in prison?"
"...assault. Grievous bodily harm." Holden sighed and folded his arms on the table.
"How long was he in for?"
"I don't know, it's... Bit over half a year?" Did that add up? Holden had been in hospital for part of it, quite the chunk. Hard to keep track.
"If he's been in jail for assault, he wouldn't have a claim on the kid unless he did it in self defence. So stop bullshitting me - what happened?" He looked at Holden, reading his body language before he frowned at him. "What did the fucker do?"
It was personal. Holden knew what he'd done. He didn't hurt his son or they'd have no case so what was it that got him out of jail so fast for assault that severe and still entitled him to his son.
There he saw it in Holden's eyes.
Fuck. "Fucking fuck. You fucking -- it was you, wasn't it? Jesus." He slammed his hand on the table. "You should always lead with the most important facts! Don't waste fucking time!"
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Closing his eyes, he huffed in annoyance and fumbled inside his suit jacket until he found his pill case. He popped it open and slipped two into his mouth, washing it down with the shitty sparkling water they always had in these offices. It was more fancy or whatever.
"The 25,000 quid traded over is easy to get rid of." Now it had come to him, it was obvious. "It's sex."
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Especially not in those circles. He shrugged, not overly impressed. "Can't just make it about sex and call it a day."
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"Or maybe they're just two queers who need to pay a girl to have a threesome with them cause they're shy and oops, oh no, suddenly they're just fucking each other. Now they're being blackmailed. That shit can ruin your life." He banged his hand on the table insistently. "25,000 to avoid being a faggoty little AIDS dispenser to the public. Bingo-bango, I'd take the fucking deal."
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"We'd have to prep them, if we want to lay out their kinky sex life as proof." He made a face as he conjured up images of their clients in their head. Ugh. "Just hope there's no faggot in the jury. No way anyone would believe either of those two are fuckable."
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"If there's a queer in the jury, he'll feel it's relatable. Chicks are always full of empathy for weirdos and men would soon believe a guy is hiding he's homo than hiding he's an assassin." Honestly, it seemed fool proof. "The problem with you is that you overthink it with all your 'proof' and 'facts' but anything can be fact if you make it fact."
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Besides, he'd heard enough homophobic quips from their clients to find the thought of fake outing them on the stand pretty entertaining. "Still leaves the issue of the gun. What was that for, fucking each other up the arse?"
He supposed there was some who'd go for that.
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"And you know, you pitch it right, you could convince them it was just a fun, deadly dildo if you want. I believe in you, kid. You got this."
Leaning back in his chair, he exhaled loudly. "Ah, this is a piece of piss. We'll win no problem."
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"Threesome, prostitution, some fun faggotry... Won't be a boring day for the jury." Which, he supposed, was all that really mattered to Taliesin. Maybe he had a point, at least in this case.
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He got himself up and strolled over to the window, wondering how much longer it would piss it down for. "Let me handle the cross examination, you can do the boring crap you like so much and we'll split the slow and methodical destruction of the prosecutor." Seemed like a fair deal.
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But he'd just been held in a police station over literally nothing, with no evidence and very clearly just because Taliesin willed it to be so. And what Taliesin wanted, Taliesin got.
He was about to get an angry Scotsman in his precious fucking office. Kian unlocked the door and slammed it open, then let it fall shut behind him as he moved further into the place. "Are you fucking satisfied now, limp dick? Did that at least get you the hell off, or can't you get it up long enough for that either? Fucking waste of both our time then, shithead. Stupid Welsh cunt."
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Fuck him and fuck that. He was there, sitting on his ridiculous golden throne, looking smug and very pleased with himself. And there he was, he was just in his boxers, a waistcoat and a shirt. Clearly he'd been working hard in his 'office'.
"I told you not to fuck me over, kid. You tried to fuck me so I fuck you harder." He wasn't going to let this dumb punk have any ground on him. "And I hope you did get fucked hard. Cavity search?" Hopefully.
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Kian scoffed, stepping closer to Taliesin and putting his hands down on the ridiculous man's ridiculous desk in front of his ridiculous throne. "You were the one who left an opening. You were the one bending over for me and then you go crying to the cops when you can't take that dick up your arse? What's next, Tallie? Are you gonna call your mommy on me?"
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He grabbed Kian by the collar of his suit and yanked him close, snarling in his face. "You better start getting some manners, boy. Don't make me hurt you cause I fucking will. I was generous this time. Do you get that? I could have had you serving."
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Taliesin was bigger than him, sure, but he wasn't taller and he doubted he was notably stronger, given he was recovering from heart surgery. Kian wasn't feeling overly intimidating. "I'm not your fucking assistant. I'm your partner. Ain't that just a treat for us both?"
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He knew it was true, on some level, he just didn't want to think about it. He didn't want to think about losing his job and having to live without being a lawyer. He hated that even now, his grip was weaker than it used to be, that his hands trembled and hell, his vision was swimming. That was the stupid blood pressure or heart or something. It didn't matter.
It just wasn't fair. "You might steal my job, you might get some good cases and some prestige, sure, but you're already fucked. They set you up to fail. And let's be real here, daddy's boy, it ain't your shiny recorded they fancied. They just liked your surname."
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But then he brought up his father, his surname, like that, and he didn't think about being considerate any more. He didn't think at all, he simply shoved forward and then immediately slipped past Taliesin, simply so he could pin him to the desk instead. He didn't bother trying to spin him around, so he was essentially forcing the man to bend over the desk.
"You don't fucking know a thing about me and what I'm capable of. But I know everything there is to know about you. I know you used to be great. I also know just how washed up you are now."
He put a hand at the back of Taliesin's neck now, to try and force him down further, at the same time moving close against him to bodily pin him to the desk. "I'm not here for you to fuck over. They don't pay me enough for that."
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"I was there when they did the new hires, before my heart went whizz bang. They liked you for your daddy, not for you." His laugh was mocking despite his position, just glad he had something.
That brat had brought his parents up too much for comfort and fucking rubbed it in that his career was dying and his body was following. It was time to get under his skin too. "Oh, if he's anything like his dad, he's a sure sell. And if he isn't, he's another hands on deck. I was there, I know. They asked me but I couldn't give a shit about new hires. I always assume they all have reputable daddies like you."
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Holden looked lost, even more so with a secretary evidently trying to convince him to leave. He got the message, his case really wouldn't be taken by anyone here - there had been some very condescending and homophobic suggestions instead - but he wanted to at least check in with Taliesin while he was here. Might as well make this not a total waste of his time.
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Getting up, he shoved the door open and called out loudly across the way. "Oi! Holden? What are you doing here?" The secretary turned and he held up his hand. "I know him. Get your skinny arse in here, I'd rather be looking at you than this berks poncy lunch." Fucking low carb whacko.
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Kian nodded his head and finally opened up his salad. This might be the distraction he needed. "Nice to meet you. Have a seat." Whatever would keep Tally occupied.
"I don't want to interrupt your lunch break," Holden said, awkwardly hovering in the door, "I can-- Is that what you're eating?" He looked at Tally's desk and, more precisely, the bag there. Which was a brown paper bag that had gotten translucent from all the grease. "Fucking hell, mate, I look at that and my arteries blow up!"
"Careful, yelling about blowing up with that accent," Kian pointed out, amused more than anything. Holden did close the door. Point, he supposed.
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And to him, that was a perfectly acceptable excuse. He pulled some bacon off his sandwich and flicked it at Kian's meal. "Eat something proper. Dickhead."
With a roll of his eyes, he looked back at Holden, expectant. "Well?"
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"They want to take Gideon away from me." Holden was trying to keep it together. Today had been stressful, however. Emotionally taxing. And he had never felt quite as negatively gay and Irish before. "I-- I'm just trying to find a lawyer, really. I know I can't afford you."
"You don't deserve him either," Kian said helpfully. He felt Holden could do better.
"Do you know anyone?" Holden asked Tally, taking a deep breath. "I've got money. Just not that much."
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He used his foot to push a chair out for Holden and then set his sandwich aside. Yes, he paused eating for this.
Since he had a heart attack, the only person he could talk to was Holden and he was always a good lad. He was nice, even tempered and wasn't afraid to tell him off. And his kid was cute too, even if he thought Tally was a scary yeti man. "You were playing house and now you ain't - what changed?"
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How was this fair?
Kian set his salad aside, already a pen in his hand and some paper in front of him. "Why was the father in prison?"
"...assault. Grievous bodily harm." Holden sighed and folded his arms on the table.
"How long was he in for?"
"I don't know, it's... Bit over half a year?" Did that add up? Holden had been in hospital for part of it, quite the chunk. Hard to keep track.
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It was personal. Holden knew what he'd done. He didn't hurt his son or they'd have no case so what was it that got him out of jail so fast for assault that severe and still entitled him to his son.
There he saw it in Holden's eyes.
Fuck. "Fucking fuck. You fucking -- it was you, wasn't it? Jesus." He slammed his hand on the table. "You should always lead with the most important facts! Don't waste fucking time!"
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