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It hasn't been long that they've been doing whatever they're doing.
What they're doing, in a broader sense, is attempting to bring magic back into the world. That's pretty easy to explain, ultimately. On a more personal level, Kasimir, well. He'd thought it was pretty clear they were just gonna have a threesome and that would be all, nothing for anybody else to hear about. Only Edvard couldn't be surreptitious if you wrote him a set of color-coded instructions, and it turned out it was pretty nice to have some people to run with.
It's no worse than anything else Kasimir is doing. He's supposed to be a tough nut, a person with no thoughts but money and murder. He's like that sometimes. Other times he's so soft that his old crew would never recognize him. It doesn't make him panic, most of the time.
In every relationship, you end up having a conversation about sexual fantasies, even though "fantasy" as a category is way too broad to really mean anything. This conversation happens while they're just sort of idly cuddling before bed. They're very gentle with Kasimir, always giving him a spot on the outside to stretch his leg. At first he took it for coddling, then he realized they just understood necessities, then he realized that he'd love a good coddle, thanks, if they were offering.
"For the longest time it was, you know," Edvard says. He gestures in an entirely opaque way. "Being in the middle. You see the problem."
Kasimir frowns. "No?"
"Oh," Edvard says, surprised. "Well, I do it all the time now, and it crossed over from an impossible indulgence to a personal favorite. Not much of a fantasy if I have it all the time."
"That seems very mundane to be coming from you," Kasimir says.
"Yeah," Zillah says. "I thought it would be weird."
"But the pursuit of the weird is a divine quest that lifts itself above human concerns," Edvard says. He strokes his mustache. "Although."
"I can't say anything," Zillah says. "I stole mine."
"How do you steal a fantasy?" Kasimir says.
"I used to fool around with this guy who was really into talking dirty," Zillah says. "Like these big long fantasies he wanted me to listen to. One night he held me down and told me all about how he wanted us to defile the throne of the Immortal Emperor." She shakes her head. "I think I came about eight times, and I still can't think about it without feeling a little turned on."
"That's very good," Edvard says.
"Why'd you give him up?" Kasimir asks.
"Because it turned out he was fantasizing with three other girls," Zillah says, "and I think you already know why that was just cheating."
It's Kasimir's turn. He could not say anything. They'd bust his chops a little, but they wouldn't make him talk. It could be easy. He also would never say anything.
"I wish having sex was my job," Kasimir says, feeling incredibly awkward.
"I mean," Zillah says. "That is a job you could get, if you wanted it."
"I would think you'd be a great success," Edvard says. "You do make people feel appreciated and cared for."
"And you give amazing head," Zillah says, with a thumbs up.
"That's not what I meant," Kasimir says. "I wish my only responsibility in life was sex. As in, sex was all I had to do. Getting paid would ruin it. I don't need more work."
"That makes considerably more sense," Edvard says, though Kasimir is not sure that it does. "You're certainly worth paying for, but I feel like you have a realistic view of that profession." He frowns. "Why were you so sure we'd be upset?"
"Uh," Kasimir says. "I don't think you're seeing the other side of this." He looks to Zillah for support, but she just shrugs. "For that to be how it is, you'd have to make me do it."
"Don't you threaten me with a good time," Zillah says.
"Is the scenario that you couldn't say no, or that you wouldn't?" Edvard says, considering him curiously. "Is it a service you perform, or are you an object to be readily used?"
Kasimir thinks he doesn't react. In reality, he makes a noise like he's gotten punched in the throat.
"Give the guy a break, Edvard," Zillah says. "It's both, obviously. Letting somebody treat you like a fucktoy is a kind of service."
Kasimir has progressed to staring straight ahead.
"Oh no, we've broken the poor man," Edvard says, in a way that suggests that he is not sorry about it.
"Can't believe he'd keep something that hot a secret," Zillah says. "Honestly, rude."
"I am serious about this," Kasimir says, out of some kind of self defense.
"Yeah, we know," Zillah says. "That just means we get to do it more times."
"Such possibilities," Edvard says, tapping his fingertips together.
It kind of trails off not too long after, and Kasimir has no real idea when anything will amount to anything. Maybe it won't; sexual fantasies are prime material for never being spoken of again. That would be fine. He'd be a little disappointed, but he's disappointed about a lot of things, just in general.
And then very suddenly, something happens.
Kasimir is speaking to Lilith about something crime-related, doesn't really matter what. "I really don't think we can manage without another pair of goats," Lilith says.
"Don't you worry about that," Kasimir, lead goat procurer of this particular establishment, says. "You leave that to me."
"Then I'll trust your judgment," Lilith says, giving him a smile as she heads off.
It's at this point that Kasimir realizes that Edvard has been lying in wait, just out of sight. Everybody in this house is so strange.
"Kasimir, old man," Edvard says cheerily, putting his hands on Kasimir's shoulders and walking him backwards. "I need your assistance."
"With what, exactly?" Kasimir asks.
"I'll tell you everything once we're in this closet," Edvard says, pushing Kasimir gently but firmly into the hall closet and shutting the door behind them.
"What is all this?" Kasimir says, raising an eyebrow.
"We discussed, at some length," Edvard says, slipping his braces off his shoulders. "Now it's time for you to deliver."
"Oh," Kasimir says, his eyes going wide. "Now, here? I- you're aware that I need precautions, with my leg and everything-"
"Yes, darling, I know," Edvard says. "I wouldn't dream of putting you in a dangerous position. Zillah and I would never be the type to damage our toys."
Kasimir kind of wants to grab the wall for support. The blood has left his brain so suddenly that he feels faint. That might also just be everything else about the situation.
"Have a seat, old man," Edvard says, nudging Kasimir backwards another step. Kasimir's brace hits a chair, something that's not normally in here, and Edvard guides him down onto it. "Are you quite comfortable?"
"Yeah," Kasimir says. Of course Edvard planted a chair in here; he's Edvard.
"Then open your trousers," Edvard says, "and stay right here until I tell you I'm done."
"Alright," Kasimir says, not really sure what to do but tug his jumper up so that he can undo his belt.
Edvard looks a little silly in just the top half of his clothes, but it's not like Kasimir can say anything. He strokes his cock a few times, getting ready, though it's pretty much superfluous. He's about to ask about what else he needs to do, but then Edvard swings a leg over him.
"Hold on, are you sure you want to-" Kasimir manages to get out, but then Edvard is taking him down, hot and yielding and perfect.
"It was so much quicker if I came prepared," Edvard says. "Efficiency is key, dear man."
Kasimir snorts; he's so incredibly fond of Edvard that it perplexes him. He doesn't have a lot of time to consider it, because Edvard starts moving on him, riding him hard.
Kasimir's not sure what he's supposed to be doing here. He's read certain forms of literature and seen some very illuminating lanthorns, so he knows the gist. Unfortunately, the gist doesn't seem to be getting him here. He wants to say something like "Oh fuck, yes, I love it when you do it like that." He obviously can't say that; he needs to stay stoic and do as he's told.
"Kasimir," Edvard says, and he stops, frowning. "I'm doing this for you. You don't have to hate it if you don't want to. In fact, I'd quite like it if you enjoyed it."
Kasimir lets out a heavy sigh. "I think I just needed to hear it."
"There you are," Edvard says, kissing his temple. "You don't need to put on a show. You just have to let me have what I want from you."
"I think I can handle that," Kasimir says.
"Then no dawdling," Edvard says.
"I'll show you dawdling," Kasimir says, and he wraps his hand around Edvard's cock, kissing him messily.
It doesn't last too terribly long, but Kasimir wasn't expecting some drawn out thing. Sometimes you fuck raw in a closet. Happens to the best of us, if we're lucky. Afterwards they're both good and spent; Edvard doesn't get up right away, getting in a few more kisses for his trouble.
"We have to get out of here," Kasimir says, sneaking another kiss, like it's day one of their relationship and not a very public thing everyone knows about.
"Don't remind me," Edvard says, and he drags it out a little more.
Eventually Edvard does get up, and so does Kasimir. They put each other back together, and Kasimir opens the door into the hallway.
Zillah is eating a cookie and just staring at the two of them.
"Uh," Kasimir says.
"Were you guys fucking in there?" Zillah asks, before taking another slow bite of her cookie.
"Uh," Kasimir says. There are three people in this relationship, and they primarily undertake their adult activities with all three of them. It feels really awkward now to have done this, but surely Kasimir shouldn't apologize?
"I'm afraid so," Edvard says.
Zillah breaks into a smile and claps Kasimir on the arm. "Good job, babe, I knew you could do it."
"What?" Kasimir says.
"We didn't think you were gonna go through with it," Zillah says.
"That's not precisely what I said," Edvard says. After a moment he adds, "Although it is what I thought."
"You two are completely mental," Kasimir says.
"Did you like it?" Zillah asks.
The really baffling thing is that Kasimir knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that they aren't mocking him. These two absolute lunatics are completely sincere.
"Maybe let's not discuss this in the hallway," Kasimir says.
"Good idea," Edvard says, and he grabs Zillah by the wrist and pulls her into the closet with them, shutting the door.
"So you're okay with this?" Kasimir asks Zillah.
"Yeah," Zillah says. "Are you?"
"That's-" Kasimir starts.
"We hoped you would like it and want to do it again," Edvard says.
"You never take for yourself," Zillah says, and the earnestness with which she says it knocks Kasimir off balance. "It's not fair. If you don't want to take it for yourself, we can give it to you."
Kasimir isn't sure what to say. He feels a little bit used, but in a good way; being used was the point. It still seems ridiculous that anybody would want him like that, even though he dearly wants to be wanted like that.
"Why don't you think it over?" Edvard says. "Perhaps the fantasy was better than the reality."
"I do want time to think," Kasimir says. "But that's not why."
And Edvard and Zillah just leave it there. Kasimir thinks they're a little disappointed, but it's not like it would be fair to be disappointed in Kasimir for not liking a gift as much as he thought he would.
The second time is on Kasimir, at least for the first half.
Zillah is stomping around their bedroom, wearing nothing but a dressing gown. Some people take nice baths to unwind. Zillah used this one to have a fight with a trainer from her gym, who obviously was not present.
"Unbelievable," Zillah says. "The sheer nerve. The gall! I'm gonna give him a piece of my mind, and then a piece of my right cross."
Suddenly all Kasimir can think about is making her relax, unwinding her. He's pretty sure he's not supposed to be offering, but Zillah would feel so much better if he could just-
"What are you staring at?" Zillah asks, which is when Kasimir realizes he's doing it.
"Do you-" Kasimir says. "I could-" He pinches the bridge of his nose. This is so awkward. "I'll eat you out if you want. You don't have to do anything for me. It's, y'know. Like that."
"Yeah?" Zillah says, her eyebrows going up.
"Yeah," Kasimir says. "You get stressed out, and I'm good for that sort of thing."
"Don't sell yourself short," Zillah says, undoing her belt. "You're good for a lot of stuff." Kasimir would be a little offended at her tone, except that she's rapidly approaching being undressed, and he'd rather concentrate on that.
"Just tell me how you want me," Kasimir says.
"I think I'd rather lie down," she says.
"Then be my guest," he says. She bends down and gives him a kiss before arranging herself on the bed. It's better like this all around; he can lie on his stomach, take his time, really enjoy himself. He's not wearing his brace right now, so he does just that, resting in between Zillah's spread legs.
Zillah runs a hand through his hair. "I need a lot of relaxation," she tells him.
"You won't even remember what's his name," he promises.
"Not likely," she says sourly. "I can't believe he- ohh."
He isn't very surprised when she gives in immediately; Zillah is ultimately the kind of person who doesn't understand how to hold a grudge. Surely this is much better for everybody involved. Kasimir definitely likes it better. She tastes like clean skin, smelling very faintly of soap, at least until she gets really wet. Kasimir could do this for her just about forever; it feels so peaceful, not thinking about himself at all. She's stroking her fingernails over his scalp like he likes, giving him a little shiver as he sucks on her clit, pushes his tongue into her looking for more.
"Oh, hello, Zillah," Edvard says, and Kasimir glances up to see Edvard giving her a kiss in greeting. There was a point where someone else walking in would have been weird, but they're just so far past it. "I'd say hello to Kasimir, but he looks busy."
"Yeah," Zillah says. "I'm, ah. Taking advantage of his generosity?"
"So it's that sort of thing?" Edvard says carefully.
Kasimir has no idea how to respond except to raise his hand and give an OK symbol.
"You wanna join in?" Zillah asks, direct as ever.
"I'll just have him after you're done," Edvard says, and Kasimir moans against Zillah's skin.
"He likes that idea," Zillah says.
"I'd hoped he would," Edvard says.
Kasimir's brain is going in sixty different directions, but he doesn't really know what to do but keep at it. That part is simple, just working his tongue against Zillah's clit. He slides his fingers into her, and Zillah sighs, her hand coming to rest on the back of his head.
Kasimir is aware of Edvard's presence in the room, but Zillah is demanding all his attention. He's totally fine with that. She was here first, after all. He thinks Edvard might get up to something left to his own devices, but it's just as likely to be something hot.
And then Kasimir forgets about Edvard; Zillah's thighs close around his head, and nothing else in the world could possibly matter. She's always so ready to chase it, demanding more, and Kasimir loves to give it to her. Maybe he always liked this because it didn't involve his pleasure; maybe it's just a happy accident.
He pushes his face against her, sucking greedily, letting him grind up against her. Her thighs go even tighter when she comes, her hand gripping the back of his head as she rides it out.
Zillah finally turns him loose; she bends down and kisses him, then settles back against the pillows. Kasimir is about to get up, but Edvard puts a hand on his back.
"Just stay on your stomach, darling," Edvard says. Kasimir is not usually the one on the bottom, but right now he's so turned on he'd agree to just about goddamn anything.
Edvard is as thorough as ever in preparing Kasimir; it makes Kasimir's face go hot, but that seems to have more to do with Edvard caring for him than any other kind of embarrassment. It's different, but it feels good, Edvard knowing just the right thing to do.
"Now, you'll just relax and let me take what I need," Edvard says, undoing Kasimir's trousers and pulling them down, and Kasimir absolutely fucking will.
Edvard slides into him like it's nothing, just a long, insistent push that leaves him buried to the hilt.
"There we are," Edvard murmurs, kissing Kasimir's neck. "You just leave everything to me, dearest."
Edvard seems determined to make this really count. He fucks into Kasimir in long strokes, steady and even. Kasimir puts his face into the mattress and groans. He can't do anything in this position, no leverage with only one knee, and it feels so much like Edvard is just taking, getting what he wants from Kasimir, using him.
It's a lie. He's gonna come from this at any time now. He's been rutting against this bed since before Edvard got here, and Edvard's weight on top of his, the steady, deep thrust, is making the situation untenable. He won't be able to hold out. Then again, Edvard is the one who said he didn't have to hate it. Maybe it's okay if he lets go.
Edvard is really fucking him now, hammering into just the right spot. Kasimir feels like his whole body is tensing up, like any more of this will be too much, just break him. Except that Edvard's not going to stop, he doesn't owe it to Kasimir to stop, Kasimir doesn't want him to stop. For the first time in probably twenty years, he goes off without being touched, groaning into the mattress as Edvard fucks him, finishes inside him.
Edvard lets him up almost immediately, but Kasimir doesn't move.
"Did you like it?" Edvard asks, sounding unusually hesitant.
"Did he like it," Zillah scoffs, before Kasimir can say anything. "He came without anybody even touching him."
"Oh," Edvard says, his eyebrows going up. "I mean, I knew you did, but I thought surely you were- you know, with your hand?"
"How?" Kasimir asks, pushing himself up on his elbows. "I was flat on the bed." Edvard is frowning, like he doesn't know what he's done wrong. Kasimir pulls him over and kisses him before pressing their foreheads together. "Course I liked it." He puts his head down and shuts his eyes. "Just gotta have a little rest."
Neither of them disturb him. At some point, maybe ten minutes later, Zillah says quietly, "God, but he's got a fine arse."
"Spellbinding," Edvard agrees.
"Do you reckon we're being too hard on him?" she asks.
"Not at all," he says. "It does seem like he enjoys it being his idea, but I think if we keep a firm hand, so much the better."
"He's really special," she says, reaching out to run her hand over Kasimir's hair.
"My dear, he is singular," Edvard says.
Kasimir hears none of this and would not believe it if you told him.
But life is going on.
It's obvious that him and Zillah and Edvard, that's a comrades in arms thing; when he's feeling less charitable, it's a war bride thing, though it's hard to say who's what. They have a job to do, they do it, they pick up the pieces, and that's when they realize they never had anything in common at all.
Except it doesn't happen. Magic is saved, Lilith and Barnaby part ways from them, and they just stay. They stay with Eleanor and they stay together. The only thing that truly changes is that Zillah insists that they start giving Eleanor rent money, even though Kasimir and Edvard absolutely do not agree.
They're still screwing around with the whole free-for-the-taking Kasimir thing, but they have been keeping it to their rooms. It's only polite. Eleanor is definitely a lesbian and thus not really in the running to be invited; also she's their boss or benefactor or something, still and yet, as she and Edvard get more magical by the day. Kasimir is keen to ride that train as long as possible, and he sees no reason to endanger the whole situation in service of getting off.
That doesn't mean Kasimir is safe at the house. He's in the kitchen just trying to eat some crackers when Zillah walks in.
"Sorry, can't be helped," Zillah says, pinning Kasimir's arms behind him.
"What is this?" Kasimir asks suspiciously.
"Don't worry about it, old man," Edvard says, picking up Kasimir's cane and tucking it under his arm. "Let Zillah take your weight, you'll be just fine."
And that's how Kasimir gets frogmarched to his room and pushed onto the bed; Edvard doesn't even take his waistcoat off before kneeling in front of him, undoing his trousers with practiced motions. Edvard doesn't actually go down on him that often. Zillah's the one who likes that particular activity the best, and as good at it as she is, it'd be a crime not to let her. That doesn't mean Edvard doesn't have skills, and he exercises them mercilessly.
Zillah is sitting behind him; she's got his arms again, holding him fast while she kisses him, his ears and his cheek and his lips. Kasimir feels completely thrown. He's also very into it. It's wild how they bring that out in him.
Edvard is going after him with such determination, using every little thing he knows about Kasimir's body. Kasimir is basically powerless against it, but he musters enough fortitude to say, "Edvard, please, you have to stop."
Edvard pulls away, looking up at him. "What's wrong?"
Kasimir's annoyed he even has to say it. "If I come, that's it."
Zillah laughs, which isn't what Kasimir expected.
"You dear man," Edvard says, a hand on Kasimir's face. "This is it."
"What does he mean?" Kasimir says, looking over his shoulder at Zillah.
"We thought it would be hot to watch you fall apart," Zillah says. "Turns out we were right."
"Oh god," Kasimir says.
"Now just lie back and think of the Emperor, dearest," Edvard says, and he goes back down again.
"Oh fuck," Kasimir says. Zillah laughs, low and satisfied, and Kasimir can feel it in his body.
"I'm gonna have so much fun watching you fall to pieces," Zillah says, like she hasn't seen it a hundred times, and Kasimir doesn't even know how he feels anymore, except so turned on it feels like his hands are shaking.
Kasimir doesn't quite know what to make of the whole thing, if he's honest. The more he does it, the more he wishes he could do it all the time. A lot of times, you try these things, they're alright, you eventually get bored as it loses its luster. Maybe he always wants this type of thing to be happening to him. He's not sure what that would even mean.
Kasimir is watching himself, watching all of Volisport move into a word which is safe. No one's tried to murder him in ages, but more fundamentally than that, if he fails, if he screws up, it will be okay. That's never been true before. If he screws up a job, he won't be out on his ass. If he screws up with Zillah and Edvard, they're so kind and forgiving that they'll probably end up fixing it for him. He'd have put his hand up and sworn that all of these things were literally impossible. These are the kinds of things that are not meant for someone like him, cursed like his father and his father before him to live fast and die young because they weren't worth going back for.
He tries not to think about that part, but it never really leaves his head.
It's probably two or three months before Edvard and Zillah sit him down- proper, with all of their clothes on and everything. They don't look upset, but maybe a little bit grave. It puts Kasimir's back up immediately.
"Zillah and I have discussed the matter before coming to you, because I want you to know we're in agreement," Edvard says, glancing at Zillah, who nods.
Kasimir's heart freezes in his chest, because this is it. They've decided to get rid of him. He's had plans for it, but first he needs to-
"We'd like to offer you the ability to retire from, you know, criminality as a whole," Edvard continues. "Work in general, really."
It completely throws Kasimir. "You mean just- not?"
"Yes," Edvard says. "My magical innoventions are going swimmingly, and Zillah has her students at the gym. Crime was a means to an end for me. I don't think you feel the same way, but-"
"I don't do crime because I love breaking the law," Kasimir says. He pauses. "I mean, I do love breaking the law, but crime is for when you want stuff other people don't want you to have. If we have stuff, the crime matters way less." He shrugs. "Though I don't really know what else I'd do with myself without it."
"We have spoken about, you know, moving on," Edvard says delicately. "Raising a family. You do have a babysitting license."
"It's not babysitting when it's your own kid," Kasimir says, and it comes out sharper than he intended.
"Of course it isn't," Edvard says, not offended. "But it does mean you know how to do child-related things that Zillah and I don't."
"Sounds a lot like you're asking me to be your housewife," Kasimir says.
"Like you'd hate it," Zillah says dismissively.
She's got him there. At the end of the day, Kasimir is a supporter. He takes a lot of joy in making a really fine pot of soup or delivering a pep talk when it's needed most. It sounds so nice, nothing to focus on but making the people he loves the most feel better.
Still, admitting that would leave him in no kind of bargaining position. "I don't do laundry," Kasimir says.
"Done," Edvard says. "Anything else?"
"And I want a big bouquet of flowers for the kitchen every week," Kasimir says, just to be contrary, because Kasimir has a limited view of what luxury means.
"Sure," Zillah says.
"And I want the kid to have its own room," Kasimir says. "None of this sleeping next to a crib stuff."
"I'm sure that won't be hard to arrange," Edvard says.
Kasimir drums his fingers against the table. "I guess that was all my objections."
"Of course," Edvard says, in the way he thinks is sly but really just makes him sound horny, "more privacy means that you might find yourself more vulnerable more often."
"I would have been offended if it didn't," Kasimir says.
"I want there to be room for all of us," Zillah says. "Like, metaphorically."
"Well," Kasimir says. "I will need some very fine aprons. Have to keep up appearances."
"For you, all the aprons you can wear," Edvard says grandly.
All the aprons Kasimir can wear turns out to be one. He doesn't even wear it often; it's just that the oven in the new house is a little clumsy, and if he doesn't want soot on his clothes, it's the best choice. He's wearing it right now, because Edvard has "improved" the oven with a fiddly magicky thing for the pilot light, and though Kasimir does not intend to use the oven right now, he does want to know how the hell it turns on.
Whatever happened to striking a match? Or maybe throwing a ghost at it? Kasimir's grasp of oscillotronics always was a little weak.
"Kasimir?" Zillah says from the other room.
"I'm coming, I'm coming, hold your goat," Kasimir says, pulling his apron over his head. He's a little annoyed, but he's mostly just glad for the excuse. "What's it today, then?"
"Are you busy?" Zillah asks.
"If I was busy, I wouldn't have heard you," Kasimir says. "What do you need?"
"Now I feel guilty," Zillah says.
"Don't know why you would," Kasimir says, frowning. "You know I always have time for you."
Zillah doesn't respond, and Kasimir realizes that she absolutely looks like hell.
"Somebody hurt you?" Kasimir says, taking her hands. "You get some bad news?" He's about to say something fantastically dangerous that you should not say if you're not a hundred percent certain about it, but it feels like a safe bet. "Is it your period?"
She sniffles a little bit. "Yeah."
"You go get in bed," he tells her. "I'm gonna make you a hot water bottle and rub your back."
"Is that okay?" she asks.
The question is preposterous. He absolutely is not going to point that out, not when Zillah looks so fragile. "It is til I get Edvard in here," he says instead. "I can't rub your back and your feet all at the same time. Arms aren't long enough." He nudges her. "Go on. I'll be right there."
The hot water bottle is in its spot in the cupboard, which is a little miracle. The water in the kettle is still warm enough, and he fills the bottle, capping it before taking it to the bedroom. Zillah is sitting on the edge of the bed, still looking worn.
"I'm sorry," she says.
"Nothing to be sorry about," Kasimir says, sitting down next to her and handing her the bottle.
He's about to add 'It happens' and is instantly glad he didn't. "I hoped it wasn't gonna come," Zillah says, and Kasimir's heart hurts.
"Hasn't even been three months," he says. "Nothing to worry about."
"Yeah?" she says.
"Yeah," he says.
It's not true; he is worried. It's just that he's not concerned right now, because he knows that the worry is still irrational. Neither Zillah- always worried about everything- nor Edvard- never worried about anything- understand that logic, and he gave up trying to explain a while ago.
"Sometimes it takes ages, but people manage," he says, which is true. Nothing about the prospect of eventually needing to adopt bothers Kasimir, but Zillah's in no frame of mind to be told something like that. "If anybody's falling down on the job, it's me and Edvard."
"That's not true," she says.
"It's been three days since anybody tried to knock you up," he says, annoyed at himself a little. "You might have the stove, but somebody's gotta bring the ingredients."
"Not today," she says.
"Of course not today," Kasimir says, brushing her hair back. "You're a wreck, Zill. You need to be taken care of."
"Really?" Zillah says.
"Yeah," he says. "Nothing but the best for the future mother of our child." He kisses her gently. "Nothing but the best for my Zillah."
She rests her head on his shoulder, and he puts an arm around her, holding her close. He doesn't like that she's feeling sore both physically and emotionally, but he'll help with either one. This probably is gonna be a rough couple years one way or another. He's just okay with that kind of roughness, the kind that ends up with a better life. It won't be the first time, and it won't be the worst of his troubles.
Kasimir nudges her. "Make you feel better if I do that thing with the warm cloth?"
"Yes, please," Zillah says, looking relieved.
"You get situated," he tells her. "I'll be right back."
It's not a grand innovention or one weird trick; it's just something Kasimir's ex showed him. Zillah finds it very soothing, and Kasimir is more than happy to soothe her. He turns the hob back on under the kettle while he goes to find the correct item, just a soft flannel. He douses it with hot water, making sure it's good and hot before wringing it out.
When he gets back, Zillah is lying in bed, a towel underneath her, her water bottle resting on her abdomen. Kasimir's general understanding of the situation is that the combination of things that hurt at any point is random, so he's maybe gonna take a holistic approach until told otherwise.
"Here we go," he says, sitting down next to her. "Now you just take some deep breaths and get as comfortable as you can under the circumstances."
"That's not very comfortable," Zillah says.
The towel is still plenty warm, and Kasimir drapes it over her cunt. She groans, louder than Kasimir is expecting.
"It does hurt everywhere today, doesn't it," Kasimir says gently.
"Yeah," she says. "This is helping."
"I'm gonna make Edvard get you some tablets," he says, "and I don't want any lip about it."
"They make my head feel funny," she complains.
"And you'd rather feel like this clearheaded?" he says.
Zillah doesn't have a reply for that one, but Kasimir doesn't pursue it. He puts his hand over her through the cloth; she likes a little bit of pressure at first. She sighs, her body relaxing somewhat.
"Good girl," he tells her. "That's a very good girl, just relax and enjoy it. I've got you."
She sighs as he starts to rub her clit through the cloth. Kasimir has expressed to her that he's not squeamish about reporting for duty, but apparently the warmth and weight feels nice. He's not gonna second guess her. He's got a lot of familiarity with her body, but she's the expert.
"There we go," Kasimir says soothingly. "Just like that, that's my good girl."
"Kasimir?" she says hesitantly.
"Hm?" he says.
"Can you- more of that?" she says haltingly.
"You need me to elaborate?" he says, and she nods, biting her lip. "No trouble at all. I could talk all day about how my Zillah is so gorgeous and so soft. Such a pretty girl, and pretty girls deserve to be carefully looked after. Soon enough we're gonna give her a big round belly, and there'll be even more for me to spoil."
He and Edvard had a very weird, slightly drunken conversation about whether it was okay to enjoy the thought of conceiving in a sexual way. They didn't come up with anything; they just got drunker instead.
"Does it not ever strike you as unsavory that our kids could be born out of weird sex?" Kasimir said.
Edvard looked at him blankly and said, "I would have to find the weird sex more objectionable than whatever would be the normal sex," and Kasimir didn't have a response for that.
"You promise?" Zillah says in the present.
"Yeah, of course," Kasimir says. "You're my sweet girl. Why wouldn't I want to?" He pokes her gently in the thigh. "Now you, miss, need to shush and let me work. You should be relaxing, not thinking so hard. You're supposed to lay there and look pretty. Pretty girls don't think."
Zillah laughs softly. She'd be fully justified in punching him in the face if he was trying to be serious, but he was really just trying to disarm her. Either way she settles a little bit.
"There, that's much better," he says, rubbing her with a little more intent. "You just need to relax and let me get on with it. It'll be better for you in the long run. I need you to be nice and calm so I can do all the awful things to you I want."
"They're not awful," she says.
"They're awful," he says. He moves his hand faster, and Zillah bites her lip. "Nothing a good person should be considering. Just turns out you love it." By the way she wriggles, he's on to something here. "You love every minute of me and Edvard working you over, and you'll beg for more. A pretty girl like you should be careful. You don't watch yourself around men like us, that's how you end up in the family way."
Zillah starts to groan, but she bites her lip. "No, no, by all means," he tells her. "Doesn't bother me in the slightest if you like it. I seem to remember you begging me for it."
"Oh god, Kasimir," she pants.
"You just shush," he says, really moving now. His wrist is killing him, but Zillah isn't thinking about her pain at all. "You're gonna be my good little girl and let me take care of you. You're gonna feel better, and when you're better, I'm gonna personally hold you down until Edvard and I both come inside you."
She moans, pressing up against his hand, and it takes barely any time after that before she comes. Kasimir just speaks to her softly, getting up to deal with the cloth but then coming right back, his hands on her to let her know he's not going away.
"Do you and Edvard-" Zillah says. She looks slightly pained, but in that way that he's starting to realize is her being annoyed with herself. "Are you still okay with this? Do you really want to keep trying?"
"Yep," Kasimir says unabashedly. "Til you feel like the first donut in the batch." Zillah frowns curiously. "Too much filling, running out everywhere."
She laughs. "Ew."
"Could have been worse," he says. "I did say feel and not look."
She makes a face. "I don't like to think about what it looks like."
"I like to think about what it looks like," he says, unable to stop himself.
"You can't honestly think that looks good," she says.
"I've got no idea why you think I wouldn't," he says. "That's what having a good time looks like."
"You're awful," she says, but she grabs him by the wrist and pulls him down into bed with her.
Time passes, because of course it does.
Volisport was never really a leisure park kind of city, but with the sunlight returning, it's gotten much more appealing. In the afternoons, Kasimir takes the kiddo to run off some of his energy.
The mums at the park absolutely think Kasimir's the help. He gets it. The kid doesn't favor Kasimir even a little bit, but in fairness he doesn't favor Edvard either; He does favor Zillah slightly, but that's because when he was born he was Zillah's cousin. It was a perfectly average Volisport story, too many babies and not enough coin, a plea for mercy. This time everything went right, and hey presto, free baby.
Zillah doesn't like it when Kasimir refers to their son's origin as "someone was giving away a free baby". Edvard thinks it's delightful. Kasimir is just shocked he was on the benefactor side of the story.
It's a pretty normal park afternoon. Kasimir is sitting on a bench, while Levi tries to climb a tree. He's doing a terrible job, but he's got guts. It'll serve him well.
The park they're in is in Brightstone, near Eleanor's, so the illegal activity is fairly contained. Kasimir, though retired, always keeps an eye out for it, as any good guardian would, and because he knows what he's looking for, he immediately hones in on the man who's just approaching. The man stops behind the row of benches, just out of sight of most everyone, and Kasimir sighs, standing up.
Kasimir sidles up next to him, planting his cane and speaking in the language of the pickpocket. "Move along, mate. It's all kids and no billies here. You'll get a handful of grass for a kick in the teeth."
The man peers at him. "Kasimir?"
Kasimir peers right back. "Lefty?"
"It is you!" Lefty says. Lefty is or was a Billhook, and Kasimir hasn't seen him in ten years. "I thought you'd be dead by now."
"No such luck," Kasimir says.
"What do you do with yourself these days?" Lefty asks, putting his coin purse away in a show of decorum.
Kasimir shrugs. "Had a kid, you know how it is."
"Tough break," Lefty says. "Hustling twice as hard?"
"No, uh." Kasimir clears his throat. "I stay home with him. Husband makes all the money, and-"
There's two types of career criminals. Everybody's looking for one last big score. Most of them wouldn't know what to do even if they got it, and the money would be gone in a week. The rarer breed really would walk away. Sometimes the former think the latter are weak-willed, and it's hard to know until it's not a hypothetical.
"Look at you living the life of Riley," Lefty says, punching Kasimir's arm lightly.
"I didn't even tell you about our wife," Kasimir says, feeling relieved.
"Oh, that's too good for the likes of you," Lefty says. He gives Kasimir a knowing look. "She about half a foot taller than you?"
"It was one time," Kasimir says.
Lefty snorts. "You know it wasn't."
"Anyway, she's taller than that," Kasimir says.
"Pa, look!" Levi shouts. He's managed the first step, hanging from a tree branch with all four of his limbs.
"When you start to fall, tuck your chin," Kasimir calls back.
"Just the one?" Lefty asks.
Kasimir has the suspicion that he might be being pressed for information. It's just that the information in question is nothing. You could get the same information from the records office or the postman.
Maybe not the postman. He's too scared to come to the house, most of the time.
"The wife doesn't want to tell me she's got one in progress," Kasimir says, the exact opposite of discretion, but he can't tell Zillah or Edvard that he knows. He can tell someone who has nothing to do with their lives anything. "Bless her, but she's as subtle as a bat to the head."
"Congrats," Lefty says, clapping Kasimir on the arm. "They say there's nothing better for the fertility than adoption."
"I was really starting to think they were wrong, but here we are," Kasimir says. "Anyway, lovely to see you. If I ever catch you in this park again I will beat you about the head and shoulders."
Lefty laughs. "Same old Kasimir."
Kasimir thinks that's hideously untrue. He thinks about it after Lefty is gone, after he's taken Levi home and gotten started on supper. Kasimir the housewife and dad bears no resemblance to Kasimir the Billhook. Kasimir the Billhook didn't look out for anyone else; he barely looked after himself. He never let anybody tell him anything, didn't even stick around after one night most of the time. He was never anything but completely in control.
That's all window dressing, and with a start Kasimir realizes that the real difference is that he's happy.
He also startles because Edvard has walked up behind him and put his arms around Kasimir's middle. "You look pensive, old man," he says, resting his chin on Kasimir's shoulder.
"You know me, always thinking," Kasimir says. He realizes at this point that Edvard is nibbling on his earlobe. "What's gotten into you?"
"Believe me when I say I intend to get something into me after bedtime," Edvard says.
Kasimir snorts. "You should be glad I'm so easy, because if those are your techniques, I have no idea how you landed two of us."
"Single-minded determination and dashing good looks," Edvard says.
"Hey, guys?" Zillah says, from the other side of the kitchen, and Kasimir and Edvard both look up at her. She sounds hesitant. "I need to talk to you about something."
Kasimir glances at Edvard. They've been together for a while, but he's not sure how well he conveys "Act surprised when Zillah says she's knocked up", even though Edvard nods. Edvard nods about a lot of stuff.
"You can talk to us about anything, darling," Edvard says, welcoming her in.
Zillah is literally wringing her hands, and Kasimir wants, as he often wants, to take them and calm her down. "We, um. I know that we said that, um, we had some things figured out? And everything was, y'know-" She stops, sighing in frustration. "I'm pregnant. There, I've said it."
"I'm so glad you finally admitted it to us, darling," Edvard says.
Kasimir puts his hand over his face. "You're not supposed to tell her we knew."
"Oh," Edvard says. "But I didn't know you knew."
"Hang on, did everybody know?" Zillah says.
"Not sure about Levi, but yeah, we did," Kasimir says.
"But how?" Zillah demands.
Edvard clearly doesn't know how to respond. "All of your shady behavior," Kasimir says. "You quit drinking, you missed your period, you toned down your gym schedule. We do pay attention to you."
"Oh," Zillah says, looking stymied.
"I think perhaps we've missed the point here," Edvard says. "Let us say merely that we are overjoyed and cannot wait for a new chapter in our lives together."
"Do you think Levi is gonna take it okay?" Zillah asks.
"Are you kidding?" Kasimir says. "He gets to be a big brother."
That's when Zillah starts crying, but nobody's shocked. It's a perfectly good time to cry, really. Edvard puts his arms around her, rubbing her back.
"Pa?" Levi's small voice says from the doorway, and Kasimir looks towards him. Levi looks worried and unsure, but he's not apologizing for being there. When Kasimir was a kid, wanting answers in a situation like this would have gotten him a smack in the mouth.
"Up you come, my boy," Kasimir says, picking Levi up and settling him on his good hip, because Kasimir is so relieved every time he has a chance to not be his parents.
"Why is Mum crying?" Levi asks fretfully.
"Sometimes people cry when they're happy," Kasimir tells him. "Your mum is happy because she's gonna have a baby."
"A baby?" Levi says.
"Yeah," Kasimir says. "You're gonna love it."
"We could perhaps explain it a little better than that," Edvard says.
"We probably will, but later," Kasimir says, as Zillah reaches out for Levi. Kasimir transfers him over, trying not to look relieved at not having to hold his weight.
Then Zillah cries on her son for a while, but that's probably fine.
Kasimir, meanwhile, has gone back to the stove. This is all very important and sentimental, but big emotions and a burned dinner sounds like the worst possible combination.
"Kasimir," Edvard says.
"Oh no," Kasimir says. "I know you. You're gonna throw open your arms and say something grand about celebrating. We can celebrate after dinner, which is already ready."
Edvard laughs. "I'll get some plates, then."
"See that you do," Kasimir says, but he pulls Edvard over by his shirt collar and gives him a kiss.
Levi is looking at Kasimir; his face is troubled. Edvard would lose his mind wondering if he was absorbing all of this, developing a memory that became truth, perhaps that could be altered in some way with a magic hat. Zillah doesn't think like that, and they're all better off for it.
"Don't worry about it," Zillah tells Levi. "That's how he loves people."
Levi does form a memory, but a completely different one. It's better this way, for everyone.