Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Felix prides himself on his impeccable image, perfectly pressed suits, a classy accent, and a flirtatious personality. He has to, after all he lacks the class and money that Slugworth and Prodnose were born with. His background could almost be called… no.

Felix sighed as he took a sip of his drink to quell his stomach. Shaking those thoughts out of his head, he scanned the room. The party was in full swing, with people grinding on the dance floor and couples sneaking away, clothes already halfway off. Slugworth had hosted this particular event, saying something about making connections and rehashing contracts, but that seemed more like an excuse with every passing hour.

Nevertheless, Felix kept a polite smile on his face as he nodded along to an obviously drunk senator, rambling on and on about some spat with his wife. He was prepared to make an excuse to exit the conversation when the man leaned in and grabbed his arm.

“Why, Mr. Fickelgruber, don’t you have a partner?” The man slurred, “A man like you would have women falling all over themselves!“ The man leered, “Or perhaps you have more…exotic tastes?”

Disgusted, Felix tugged his arm out of the senator’s grip. “Apologies, I have some urgent matters I need to see to” He muttered as he quickly strode away. In his haste, he missed the quick gesture the senator gave to a nearby server

“When is this blasted party ending?” Felix muttered as he stepped into one of the many rooms in Slugworth’s manor, which he noted with annoyance was larger than his own. Downing his glass, he wondered if he could get away with feigning sickness and just heading home.

Lost in his thoughts, Felix didn’t notice his limbs starting to become heavier, until the champagne glass he was holding slipped out of his hands and shattered against the floor. His eyes widened, but there was no time to react before a large hand yanked a blindfold over his eyes.

Felix thrashed and fought against his assailant but another pair of hands quickly tied him up. His breath started to come in pants as panic overtook him. The last thing he heard was the hoarse laughter of the senator

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Arthur sat on a blue sofa opposite of his current target: The Chief of Police. The chief called himself “a man of integrity” and yet, after a couple of drinks he was practically singing.

Arthur smirked at the rambling fool, confident that the Chief would be under his thumb. He glanced at the party around him, which was admittedly getting pretty out of control. He could see that Prodnose that was laughing with his countless cousins, seriously how many could one man have? The tall figure wearing green was Fickelgruber, talking with a stockily built man in a poorly fitted suit.

Watching them, Arthur felt an odd feeling stirred in his stomach. Unknowingly, his eyes narrowed at the two. A shrill scream and the shattering of glass shocked him out of his haze, and he turned to see that one of the guests had spilled his drink all over the floor and was now about to start a fight.

He sighed and stood up. Clapping his hand once, he made sure that everyone’s eyes were on him.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, this has been an enjoyable evening but I’m afraid that it is time to head on out” Arthur forced a smile as groans came from the guests.

Slowly the room began emptying, and Arthur made his way to where Prodnose was seeing off his relatives, each one with some type of yellow decoration that made the whole family look like a gathering of canaries.

He expected Fickelgruber to glide into step as Felix usually did, but this time the familiar tap of shoes was missing. Arthur’s brow furrowed as he glanced around the now empty room, looking for even a scrap of green.

“Have you seen Fickelgruber?” Arthur demanded, “Or did he forget all about the meeting?”

“Ah, I wouldn’t be surprised if Felix was a bit late, he and that man disappeared into that room an hour ago” Prodnose snorted and gestured at one of the many doors leading to a bedroom.

Arthur felt a flash of annoyance, both at Prodnose’s casual use of first names and at the thought of Fickelgruber prioritizing that man above business. He looked around for a servant, but all of them were in the kitchens, cleaning up.

He sighed and went to fetch the third member of their group himself.

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Felix was a man who prided himself on his image, but as he lay on damp sheets with limbs that refused to respond, it was well and truly shattered. He had wailed, cried, and even… even begged, and it did nothing. And later all he did was lie there, motionless, even when the ragged breaths of the senator faded and the door shut, leaving him alone. The senator - call me Howard- had managed to shatter that perfectly cultured armor in a way that not even his fiercest competitors could’ve done.

A sob wracked through his body, and the motion caused another throb of pain. He was almost fearful of looking at the damage, his skin littered with bruises where Howard held him down. He could do nothing while that man had.. had…

Felix gagged at the memory, phantom touches caressing his body, leaving purple trails against his pale skin. Feeling was coming into his limbs again, and he jerked against the ropes that bound him to the bed. His entire lower section seemed to light up in pain at the movement, and Felix curled up as much as the ropes allowed him to.

He lay there panting for what seemed like years with no sign of help, if he even wanted anyone to see him like this. Felix shivered, the horror hitting him as he imagined a server stumbling into the room and seeing him in this sorry state.

Felix froze as he heard heavy footsteps approaching, he prayed that they belonged to a servant, delivering more drinks to the party, that has to be it. As the footsteps paused before the door, a fearful whine slipped past his lips, and his eyes widened.

His breathing sped up as the handle slowly turned, and the door swung open, pouring light into the room.

“Felix?”
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Chapter Text

Pesky emotions like shock don’t come easily to a man like Arthur Slugworth, but as his gaze landed on the bound man in front of him, his brain seemed to freeze. 

A shocked “Felix?” slipped out, and the figure on the bed seemed to panic, frantically pulling at the ropes, trying to get away.

As Arthur slowly approached the thrashing man, he noticed that Felix was whimpering, his eyes panicked, but unseeing.

When Arthur finally managed to put a hand on Felix to stop his thrashing, Felix froze and suddenly went limp. Despite this, Arthur could still feel the trembling under his hand.

“Felix” Arthur tried again, his tone softer this time, “Felix, it’s Slugw- Arthur”

Those words seemed to terrify the poor man even further, as the trembling increased in intensity and Felix attempted to curl up even further, his eyes squeezing shut. 

“Please… no more” Felix whimpered, “please..”

This sent another wave of shock through Arthur, Felix never begged. He always seemed so graceful and full of wit, often running circles around most of their clients. 

“I- I’m not going to hurt you Felix” Arthur stammered in a rare show of nervousness, still in shock from this bizarre situation. He managed to untie the ropes, and Felix immediately went limp.

Staring down at the unconscious man, Arthur felt a surge of anger. The skin was inflamed and raw where the ropes had been, and Felix’s body was covered with bruises 

Quickly Arthur wrapped Felix in some sheets he found in the closet and scooped him up. Felix was far too light, Arthur noted as he exited his house through one of the many side passages.

He placed Felix in the backseat and instructed the driver to drive to the Fickelgruber estate. Arthur shut the divider between the back and front seats and glanced down at Felix. To his surprise Felix’s eyes were open, yet they gazed blankly, unresponsive.

Arthur kept his hand on Felix’s shoulder, and soon the car pulled up on the driveway of an extravagant manor.  Arthur was glad that all three of them had given the others spare keys to their residence as a gesture of “trust”. Unlocking the front door without dropping Felix was a struggle but he managed.

Fickelgruber’s house had a floor made of a rich dark wood, and the wallpaper was a lighter brown. Scones and extravagant chandeliers cast a warm glow down at Arthur as he made his way to the master bedroom.  Felix’s bedroom was decorated similarly to the rest of the house, but Arthur noted with slight surprise that the room was full of plants. Ivy hung above perfect arrangements of  white and green roses, hydrangeas, and dahlias. 

Arthur paused as he glanced down at Felix, then at the immaculate sateen sheets of the bed. Felix probably wouldn’t appreciate his sheets being dirtied, but the other option would be…

After a moment Arthur made up his mind and headed toward the en suite bathroom.               

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Arthur could hardly believe that he, Arthur Slugworth himself, was bathing his rival in their own house. He tried to convince himself that this was to ensure that Fickelgruber didn’t miss another meeting, after all that could only lead to a drop in productivity, but with every new injury he found on Felix, that excuse seemed to be as stable as a piece of chocolate in the desert sun. 

When he attempted to place Felix into the tub, Felix tensed, eyes filled with a dull panic. His grip on Arthur tightened by a minuscule amount. 

“Felix…” Arthur trailed off, he had no idea how to calm the panicking man, “I’m just going to put you down, “

Felix was still tense, but began to relax as Arthur slowly rubbed in calming circles, leaning into the warmth when Arthur began to wash the gel out of his messy hair. Lost in comfort, Felix slipped back into sleep.

Arthur looked down at the sleeping figure. It was odd to see Felix so still, for all the years Arthur had known him, Felix was always in movement no matter how much he tried to hide it. His eyes jumped from spot to spot, his hands, if not fiddling with his cufflinks, always tapped a steady beat on whatever chair he sat on. 

After Felix was placed under the sheets, Arthur went back downstairs. Feeling awkward standing in an empty house, Arthur quickly penned a note and left it on the coffee table.  On the way back to his residence, he made a couple quick calls.

“Miss Bonbon, please send all files concerning one Senator Howard”          

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“Where are yooouu~“

Hidden in the dense bushes, he giggled as he watched his sister run around the yard. As she suddenly turned to where he was hiding, he clasped his hands over his mouth. 

“I thought I heard something over here~” She giggled as she slowly approached, “Perhaps the bushes sprouted a mouth while I wasn’t looking~”

When she was a few feet away, he burst out of the bushes, trying to make a run for it. He didn’t make it far, being scooped up and lifted into his sister’s arms. 

He wriggled, trying to get free, but she only laughed and hugged him tighter. They ended up on their backs, with mud and grass smeared all over their clothes. 

Lying in the warm sunlight surrounded by the smell of their family’s garden, he feels happy.

(hands grabbing his hair, an unwelcome tongue, a bruising grip…)

His sister is kneeling next to him, hands cupping a delicate rose. She has a small bag of seeds next to her. 

“Here Fe, hold it like this” She passes a single seed to him, and digs a small hole in the rich dirt. 

“If you take care of this little thing everyday, it’ll become like the ones here” She gestures around them, where roses of all colors are blooming. 

Felix’s eyes light up, and he grabs another seed and his sister laughs at his enthusiasm.

“I’m going to plant a hundred– no a THOUSAND flowers,” He declared, “And you have to be here to see them bloom, promise it!”

She promises him with a pinkie promise, “the most solemn vow there is” she says.

(please..please no more… Isa please help..)

They sit in the gardens, staring up at the roses winding up the intricate iron fences. Felix glances at his sister, her face is solemn, her hair tied back, with not a fold of clothing out of place. 

The news came in the morning, their father calling for Isabell to stay back. He had waited by the door, picking at a loose thread on his shirt, when his sister had rushed out. 

He chased after her, and found himself in the rose gardens. She was sitting on the edge of one of the planting boxes. 

“I am to be married off” Isabell broke the tense silence, her voice dull. He felt his eyes widen in shock. 

“Father can’t do that!” He shouted, “You- you have to stay! The flowers– you promised!”

His sister placed her hand on top of his head, stroking it absentmindedly. He hopped up next to her.  “I’ll be fine Fe..I’ll make sure to try and visit as much as possible…” Her voice trailed off.

The two siblings sat together until she was called back to the house. She was dressed in her finest clothes and accompanied to the front gates, where she met with a man that curled a hand around her waist.

And that was the last he saw of her, and her memory was pushed to the back of his mind when Father died and left his wife and son destitute. 

He fought to keep their lives afloat, clawing his way up the ranks. He learned to hide himself, there was no space for individuality in the business world. He learned how to act, how to talk. Soon the lost child was buried under the veneer of Fickelgruber, the flirtatious German chocolatier.

The only memory of Isabell was kept hidden behind heavy oak doors. Elaborate arrangements of roses sprawled all over his room, his silent tribute to his lost sister. And it stayed that way, until the opening ceremony of his shop at the Gallery Gourmet. 

He was entertaining a group of possible patrons when he saw it: eyes as dark as his own staring back at him. He quickly excused himself and chased after her in a rare display of hope, his heart beating loud. 

He caught up to her in the gardens.

They were all grown now, he towered over her, but Isabell, his energetic, caring, loving sister, was washed out. Her sunken cheeks and dull eyes stared up at him. 

There were no tearful reunions, only words uttered in the same tone used in the world both of them were now part of. They parted silently. His sister wasn’t lost, but the person that stands in front of him is not his Isabell. The roses had withered, leaving dried husks that broke in the wind.  

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Felix woke up.  He could feel the familiar softness of his sateen sheets, the calming scent of his room grounding him.

He was still disoriented by the odd dream, he hadn’t had such a vivid dream of his…background since he was a boy. 

He cracked open his eyes, squinting at his surroundings, confused. Wasn’t he attending one of Slugworth’s parties…? Why was he home…

Ripping the sheets off the bed, his breath stuttering in his chest as he stared down at the marks on his body.  He gagged as the memories flooded his brain, and he stumbled to the bathroom.

Each breath took a momentous effort, his skin felt cold and clammy as he reached the toilet. His stomach rolled again and his body shuddered, but nothing came out. Tears gathered at his eyes as his body shook. 

After catching his breath, Felix stood, heading to the sink. His reflection looked back at him. a haggard man with messy hair and shaking hands. Not a hint of his praised control or poise, his years of perfection wasted. 

Everywhere he looked he was reminded of– of Him, the chafed skin on his wrists, the hair that was grabbed so roughly, the numerous hand-shaped bruises on his body…

The crash of the mirror and the sharp pain in his hand snapped Felix back into his mind. He looked away from the shards of glass littering the tile, ashamed at his own loss of control.  He began searching for a first aid kit, ignoring the way the blood stained the carpet behind him.

Chapter Text

Arthur was seriously beginning to doubt the effectiveness of his network. How could his countless informants have missed the sheer amount of dirt on Senator Howard? 

The senator had jumped from a small nuisance that Arthur could crush under his heel, to an intricate web of crimes, disappearances, shady dealings. The man had nearly as many accounts of cover ups and bribes as the cartel themselves, which left Arthur staring at the numerous files in disbelief. 

As he flipped through the numerous papers, something caught his eye: the senator had a wife with a name that he had to reread multiple times. 

Isabell Fickelgruber (Wife)

Current Age: 53 years old

Married at: 17 years old

Familial Connections: 

Henry Fickelgruber (Father, Deceased)

Mariah Fickelgruber/Weber (Mother, Deceased)

Felix Fickelgruber (Brother, Alive)

Arthur wonders, not for the first time, if he truly knew Felix. He and Prodnose had grown up in the same circles, their families acknowledging each other, yet choosing to keep their distance in their intricate political dances. Their partnership was one born of convenience, as a bridge between the two groups. They had enough power to keep the market in the palm of their hands, killing off competitors (sometimes literally), and drawing in new customers everyday.

That is until a new player came onto the field, a young German chocolatier with chocolates that drew first their customers’ then their attention. At first Arthur barely even bothered to read the man’s name, only sending the generic threat filled letter with a small bribe to the young man’s residence. 

Only, instead of backing away, a response was sent, inviting the two of them to a meeting of sorts. Prodnose was annoyed, but Arthur felt amused. After all, not many were bold enough to directly refuse them, let alone demand to meet them in person.

His first impression of the young upstart, Fickelgruber he called himself, was that he was clearly of new money. A green suit and a watch that announced his wealth to the world, a spark in his eyes that their families lacked, and the way he never seemed to sit still. 

Despite it, Fickelgruber seemed to carry himself with almost unnatural grace, his expression never faltering from his almost polite smile, even the tapping of his fingers seeming choreographed. 

Throughout the dinner, both him and Gerald trying their best to corner Fickelgruber into accepting a contract, the young man seemed to dance and weasel his way out of every single ploy. After a couple failed attempts, Arthur extended an offer of partnership, much to Prodnose’s chagrin. 

Arthur had spotted the brief flicker in the German’s veneer, a sharp glint in his eyes that spoke of hunger, and he smirked. 

That was the start of a decades-long partnership. Since then Felix had come far from the eager upstart chocolatier, integrating into higher society almost effortlessly. Although that nasty habit of gagging at a certain word is less than desirable, the man now carried himself elegantly and with grace, somehow drawing everyone’s attention without saying a word. 

Arthur felt an odd feeling clutch at his chest at the image of Felix lying still, it seemed almost unnatural, to see the man in that state. 

Gritting his teeth, Arthur dived back into the sea of files that lay scattered around his office.

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Felix hissed as the water hit the numerous scratches around his hand. He had picked out the shards of glass earlier and swept the remaining shards that littered the floor away. 

Isabell had taught him how to dress and bandage a wound, after he had cut his hands on the thorns and brambles of the garden. 

“Make sure to wash out the wound with clean water, you don’t want it to be infected” she had said while her warm hands cupped his wounded ones. 

Gauze was wrapped over a layer of antibiotic, then covered by a bandage. His hand still throbbed, but Felix ignored it, stepping out of the bathroom. 

"And a little kiss to make it all better" she giggled as she watched him pull a face.

A familiar arrangements of roses caught his eye, a classic domed look, but with herbs woven under to fill the area with a pleasant scent. A small smile found itself onto his face as he traced a soft petal of one of the roses. This particular arrangement was one of the first taught to him, but as he lacked the precision needed for this task at the time, all he managed to produce was a bundle of wet flowers. 

Even now he could see the flaws within the arrangement, places where the greens were too irregular, the blossoms too loose, or the color too repetitive. He shouldn't be too disappointed at a simple decoration, yet he found himself frowning at his skill. He sighed, and turned away to change into something more fit to spend the day in.

Catching sight of the clock, he freezes. He had a meeting with the other members today, something about Arthur’s newest victim, and here he was standing in his nightclothes!

Felix threw on the first suit he found, barely remembering to pull a set of gloves over the bandages as he quickly strolled out the front door and snapped an address at the driver.

But in his haste, the note on the coffee table remained unread, swept away by a newly hired servant.

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Felix was starting to regret even stepping out of the house. 

The suit felt tight and uncomfortable, he swore that it fit him perfectly last time…perhaps he had eaten too much in the past month..

His hand throbbed under the gloves, a constant reminder of his failings to keep himself in check. His head felt heavy, and an odd pressure seemed to make breathing harder than usual. 

Felix pulled himself together as his car came to a stop in front of the cathedral, it would do no good to show weakness in front of his partners. After all,

As the elevator slid down, the cold underground drafts made him shiver. His head was still fuzzy, and he had to stop himself from checking his hair again. He couldn’t help but fiddle with his cufflinks as he waited for the doors to open…why was he so nervous? He couldn’t remember the last time he felt unsettled by the vault…

It was too late for doubts, as he stepped into the main vault, drawing the attention of the two men inside. 

“Fickelgruber!” Prodnose was the first to speak, “I was wondering if you were planning to skip this meeting too!”

Felix gracefully slid into his seat, the corner of his mouth tightening as the action aggravated the bruises. 

“Apologies Prodnose, I was…predisposed” came Felix’s answer.

“I can imagine! I must say that it was quite daring of you to run off with that man in the middle of a party!” Prodnose snorted, “He must have been something special to keep you for the rest of the night, eh?”

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Arthur jolted as the doors to the vault slid open, but instead of the navy uniform of the Chief, the familiar Fickelgruber green came into view. 

What was he doing here?  Lost in his own thoughts, Arthur only caught Prodnose’s last remark.

 “He must have been something special to keep you for the rest of the night, eh?”

Felix stiffened, his hands stilling from where he was fidgeting with his sleeve. But before he could respond, the vault door slammed open to reveal the Chief.

______

The cartel have always operated like a well oiled machine, each member playing their role perfectly, never failing to tempt anyone to bend to their whims.

That’s why Arthur noticed when Felix seemed to freeze for a split second before feeding the Chief a chocolate truffle.

Shoot Gerald a glance, Arthur stepped closer, pulling the gaze of the chief away from Felix, whose posture relaxed imperceptibly.

Felix had always relished playing his role, being able to draw attention, yet dance just out of reach, tempting his victims closer and closer, but now his movements were less flamboyant, less flirtatious. 

As soon as the chief left with — 1800 boxes!—of  chocolate, Arthur and Gerald looked towards Felix.

The man was already standing up, untouched martini left on the side table. He froze as the gazes of the two landed on him. Stuttering out a weak excuse, Felix quickly stepped into a side hall that led to his office.

Arthur quickly followed, and found him sitting at the desk, heads in his hands.

Felix’s head snapped up, body already tense, and Arthur could see the way his breathing sped up.

“Is there anything you need Arthur?” He said in a tone that would seem dismissive to anyone else.

But this was a man who had known Felix for decades, and could detect the slight tension in the other’s voice.

Drawing closer, Arthur places a hand on Felix’s shoulder.

“Are.. you alright Felix?”

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And Felix froze, dark eyes snapping up to meet Arthur’s.

What did he mean by that? Am I truly so obvious that even Arthur had noticed…

Lost in the storm of thoughts, Felix doesn’t notice the tears until they hit his hands — why was he grabbing the armrest so tightly?— the tightness of his suit seemed to increase, the dry air of the vault scratching at his throat- 

A strangled sob escaped him and he jerked back from the hand on his shoulder. His mind was racing yet sluggish at the same time. How pathetic he must seem now, with his wild eyes and trembling limbs..

Arthur had always scoffed at excess emotion, calling it the drug of the… poor

The other man must be disgusted, but Felix doesn’t dare to look up to see his expression. He stares at the dark wooden floors of his office that he used to have so much pride in, waiting for Arthur to leave.

He jumps as warm hands cup his own.

“Breathe Felix, breathe” a low voice instructs, and Felix grabs onto it like a lifeline. 

The same warm hands pause for a moment before pulling him closer.

They stayed there, green desperately clutching blue, until the trembles subsided and breathing evened out.