The library door closes, Aemond settles, and Daemon, hilariously, considers the merits of just never moving from the upper terrace, feeling a pang of guilt for overhearing. Viserys, what on earth are you doing to the poor kid. ]
You should have done that in your room, [ he says. ] What if I were your mother.
[ Or Jacaerys. Imagine. Daemon gets up from the chair he'd been in, and leans over the railing. Hello again. ]
[ JesusChristMaryJosephDragons. Aemond startles back and bangs his head on the opposite stack in a hurry to look up, yelping. His heart is in his throat, cheeks reddening when Daemon looms over the railing. ]
It's not — [ What it sounded like. ] I wasn't — [ Being a complete whore for money. ] Umm.
[ Fuck. There's real alarm in his eyes as he stares up, grimly imagining Daemon telling everyone as soon as the opportunity arises. ]
Don't look at me like that, not after dinner. [ Sex tape! Implication of there being horrible paparazzi shots somewhere! (There are. His dick, a yacht, an Italian magazine. The splash page might have called him a rogue prince.) ] You're of age. It isn't illegal, and I don't personally have any ethical objections, anyway.
[ He descends the little spiral staircase, book abandoned. ]
Just a pity you're doing it because you have to, and not because you're a young man and it's fun and lucrative.
[ Daemon ought to spend a day outside himself to get a sense of how threatening his own aura is, sex tape or not. Aemond swallows and folds his arms, glancing around after Aegon to see if anyone else has entered, but his uncle has a line of sight on that when he turns around to face him (and maybe he'll have a shred of pity to let Aemond know should someone else pop up unexpectedly). ]
It is. Both of those. [ Words turn to breadcrusts in his mouth, too dry. He clears his throat and tosses his hair, trying to look as unaffected by being overheard as he very much isn't. ] I don't hate it, it's just ... time-consuming.
[ Pfft, what's threatening about Daemon 'I want to top a top' Targaryen? Peaceful vibes. He was in here minding his own business.
No one else is about. Mindful that Aegon could be returning any minute (Viserys went to bed, and if he's not asleep, he's probably still getting chewed out by Alicent for having invited Daemon and Rhaenyra over), he doesn't linger coyly. He approaches his nephew—
A little too close, perhaps. Getting a look at him. ]
[ It's a lot easier to be smooth and disconnected with the gulf of the internet between himself and other men, less so when one is prowling close enough that he can smell the wine on him. Not even that much of it. His back straightens against the shelves, chin cocking in defiance of being teased (he hates that more somehow, the insinuation he might not be a fantastic whore if he set his mind to it). ]
I have enough clients to have kept food on the table thus far, uncle.
[ Why is he even bragging? This is what a conversation with Daemon does to you. ]
In case you're wondering, yes, I'm sure my performance has far outstripped your dated tape.
[ Provoking shit just wants to hurl itself from his lips at his uncle, he's not at fault. ]
[ How beautiful, Daemon thinks. The same irritation at being inconvenienced, and pride at being challenged. Except he gets to see it through the awkward tensions of familial drama, and not a headless, audio-distorted presentation of Aemond fucking himself. ]
I should hope so, [ he says, and he drags his gaze over his nephew head to toe, the sexually charged nature of it plain. ] You know you're being observed. And you have total control over the distribution.
[ Sort of. He hadn't chosen to share with his uncle.
[ There's a lot of Targaryen in front of him and all of it seems to want to eat Aemond up, not that he feels opposed to being dessert if that's the look he gets beforehand. His throat has never been so dry, wetting his lips with a flick of tongue.
His body-language echoes Daemon's, not quite stepping forward but neither leaning away. ]
I don't want to do it with just anyone.
[ It's not a bad way to make money and he enjoys the general performance, it's simply exasperating catering to different people. If he could enjoy himself and not have to worry about his bills depending on how attractive he looks, it would go back to being fun like in the beginning, before he ran out of money. ]
And it's ... a cleaner arrangement than a relationship.
[ He's kind of shitty at those. Cash for sex? Everyone is happy. ]
[ Daemon watches Aemond lick his lips, obvious about it, and gives him a little smile. Hmm, tired of watching all his relatives and their messy love lives? That's funny.
A pause, considering, and then he reaches out and takes his nephew's chin in his hand, looking at him closely. Barely any touching, just the crook of his fingers and the press of his thumb, but it feels intimate for how much he shouldn't be doing it. ]
[ How on earth anything distracts Daemon from Rhaenyra, Aemond cannot guess. He has to blink under such point-blank flattery, lips parting as the touch to his chin, though light and nothing more than coaxing, burns him to the bone. Having been having sex (alone, but it counts) nearly every other day for two weeks he shouldn't feel as flustered as he does but it's like none of that counts; he slides a hand up his uncle's wrist to pluck his hand off his face, planting it behind Aemond's head on a shelf, and runs the same hand back up that arm to drape over his uncle's shoulder while inclining his body toward him at a (deliberately, oh-so casual) insouciant slant, all of it in one smooth, decided step forward. ]
... Hmm.
[ He's interested in wherever Daemon is going with that compliment and doesn't want to let it pass into nothing between the books hemming them in. Those are words he cares about, unlike the thousands that surround them. ]
Perhaps your eyesight has simply gotten better, uncle.
[ Bold, even offline. He likes that. Daemon steps back into him, leaning close, crowding Aemond since he's being invited to do so. He takes his hip with his other hand, and rubs just over the joint, as if restless, keeping himself from sending his touch wandering.
In another world he'd drag the younger man back up to his room. But Daemon isn't staying the night, he's merely killing an hour or so while his girls gossip in the kitchen over desserts fished out of the pantry. If only they had another outlet through which to explore sexual tension, right?
An almost-kiss, but Daemon pulls away. He takes a few steps backwards, giving Aemond a searing, smug look, before he turns. Just in time, as with footsteps approaching from the other side of the door. ]
[ Aemond has never had a problem with being bold, even when his bones felt like they were trying to vibrate out of his skin with nerves. Especially not then, most times. All he knows is that Daemon is close enough that Aemond's lack of physical lover flares like a flashing red light behind his eyes as lips brush and bodies sway, sliding a hand up Daemon's front to mirror the one hooked around his own hip, not-kissing and not-leaving for a long moment where he thinks this is just how it's going to be, this is how the infuriating man flirts —
He gets a cold waft of air between them and a look that withers his burst of confidence.
Everything Daemon heard comes roaring back into Aemond's ears so that he gets it — his stomach drops like lead — just as Aegon comes huffing around the corner. His brother yelps as Aemond storms past, bewildered and not a little surprised to see their uncle there. Aemond? Uncle? Uhhh ...
Aemond is too long-legged for Aegon to catch up but that's alright, he wants to get as far away from the library as possible before the fire in his chest blows through all his ribs. ]
[ A pity that Daemon's affections so often seem like Daemon being mean. More a pity that it's always been this way, and he's yet to figure out how to adjust the dial in himself. You'd think he would, by now, but people keep forgiving him and marrying him and having his children.
He's as shameless an unruffled as ever when he pats Aegon on the shoulder and says he thinks Aemond is embarrassed about dinner still. Don't worry, no one expects you to actually meet my challenge. Think your half-sister would divorce me if Jace actually did it, though?
An awful man.
He collects the twins and says goodnight to Helaena, who never seems to notice whether or not he's been away, and that's that.
For now. His account is still there, a patron of SilverWings' work, like a hot poker being warmed in an open fire. ]
[ Aemond's temper is in full riot in his bedroom, packing his half-emptied bag in a fury. He can take the jabs off Jace and Luc because they don't know anything, they're just idiots running their mouths, but now Daemon does know and worse he humiliated Aemond with it. All that talk about being the same, about a sex tape no one cares about anymore because it was released in the Stone Age before the internet, it was bullshit to get his guard down. Maybe. Daemon said it before he overheard them in the library, but ... never mind, it doesn't matter. He overheard Aemond telling Aegon he was basically a sex worker and then took what he wanted, smug as hell about it.
He throws his bag in the taxi when it arrives and leaves without so much as a goodbye to his siblings. It makes for an expensive ride home because it's too late for the train and he can't really afford it, but fuck that house and the people in it. It's nearly midnight when he gets back to his apartment and he goes to bed in a shitty mood, not bothering to turn any of the lights on. He can't afford the fucking electric either. After thinking about it where he lays staring out of his bedroom window, he turns his phone off too and goes to sleep out of sheer spite to the whole world.
Back at the family house, Aegon is being scolded for his brother running off and looks like he might never stop wearing a Surprised Pikachu expression out of sheer indignation. To his credit however, he doesn't grass Aemond in. ]
[ Daemon gives it a bit. The girls are intent on talking him into taking them to Highgarden, the luxury amusement park without any mouse ears, even though they're too old for it and Rhaenyra doesn't want to go because it'll make her feet swell. She's been even crankier than usual about him spending time with his daughters, who she's always felt more removed from than he's felt from her boys. It's tiring.
He goes. Between Baela's enormous Tiktok following and Rhaena's Instagram audience, there are a number of clips and photos of Daemon in flower headbands, or being made to judge bubble tea flavors (he doesn't like any of them). One even gets posted in the family group chat that Daemon still isn't in. Rhaenys reacts with an exaggerated amount of stickers and heart emojis, always overly pleased to get content of her granddaughters without Rhaenyra. Normal family dynamics.
Continuing normalcy:
The next day, a request comes in from RoguePrince. Sugar Daddies Only: DM directly to discuss. ]
[ Aemond's morning is chilly so he whacks up the heat without a care in the world, makes a big pile of toast and puts extra cream in his coffee, and has a hot shower. Once he feels more human and up to looking at his phone as he munches his breakfast, he rolls his eye at the state of the family groupchat and scrolls over the picture of Daemon a few times, hoping he had allergies at the time of the flowercrowns.
It really comes to something when the only source of mild constancy in your life is a dirty old man wanting to talk to you. At first Aemond intends to finish his crusts, then double-takes which channel the request is for and drops the toast on his plate.
He has to sit back and rub his eyes for a minute, shaking out the last of the cobwebs from a shitty evening before clicking the DM and getting his head in the game. He feels like a hypocrite doing this after begging Aegon to get their dad to bring him home but this is apparently just how Aemond's life is now, so why not just continue with the terribleness? At least it's partly fun, and he knows someone genuinely wants him. ]
[ He's not going to call him son, that's a bit odd. Odder still is doing this after having a father-daughter day, but he's better at compartmentalizing than one might think. Home now and not liking how he left it that night; he should have been more forthcoming. Or kissed him, at least.
Daemon is in his study (where the e-crimes happen, it's like having a hooded a cloak), tolerating a green smoothie and some bran toast. He wonders if Aemond has figured it out yet. ]
[ Excitement has him eager to do this, not about to admit he never has. Not offline. RoguePrince sounds kind of pissed, maybe being that tense is why he needs Silverwings. ]
As soon as I have what I need I'll book a hotel near you. We will have from 6pm-8am the next day, if that's agreeable.
[ Ugh, zoomers. Thinking anyone who's straightforward via text is angry. Daemon, clueless, considers the appealing dramatic optics of showing up unexpected, and weighs it against how angry Aemond looked when he thought he was being made fun of. A walk home from a hotel might burn. ]
[ He uses the number connected to his tablet— not one that the family would have on file, even though he doubts Aemond would have any of his numbers saved anyway. Habits of discretion.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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The library door closes, Aemond settles, and Daemon, hilariously, considers the merits of just never moving from the upper terrace, feeling a pang of guilt for overhearing. Viserys, what on earth are you doing to the poor kid. ]
You should have done that in your room, [ he says. ] What if I were your mother.
[ Or Jacaerys. Imagine. Daemon gets up from the chair he'd been in, and leans over the railing. Hello again. ]
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It's not — [ What it sounded like. ] I wasn't — [ Being a complete whore for money. ] Umm.
[ Fuck. There's real alarm in his eyes as he stares up, grimly imagining Daemon telling everyone as soon as the opportunity arises. ]
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Instead he shakes his head and tsks. ]
Don't look at me like that, not after dinner. [ Sex tape! Implication of there being horrible paparazzi shots somewhere! (There are. His dick, a yacht, an Italian magazine. The splash page might have called him a rogue prince.) ] You're of age. It isn't illegal, and I don't personally have any ethical objections, anyway.
[ He descends the little spiral staircase, book abandoned. ]
Just a pity you're doing it because you have to, and not because you're a young man and it's fun and lucrative.
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It is. Both of those. [ Words turn to breadcrusts in his mouth, too dry. He clears his throat and tosses his hair, trying to look as unaffected by being overheard as he very much isn't. ] I don't hate it, it's just ... time-consuming.
[ That's part of it, anyway. ]
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No one else is about. Mindful that Aegon could be returning any minute (Viserys went to bed, and if he's not asleep, he's probably still getting chewed out by Alicent for having invited Daemon and Rhaenyra over), he doesn't linger coyly. He approaches his nephew—
A little too close, perhaps. Getting a look at him. ]
In demand, are we?
[ Attaboy. ]
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I have enough clients to have kept food on the table thus far, uncle.
[ Why is he even bragging? This is what a conversation with Daemon does to you. ]
In case you're wondering, yes, I'm sure my performance has far outstripped your dated tape.
[ Provoking shit just wants to hurl itself from his lips at his uncle, he's not at fault. ]
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I should hope so, [ he says, and he drags his gaze over his nephew head to toe, the sexually charged nature of it plain. ] You know you're being observed. And you have total control over the distribution.
[ Sort of. He hadn't chosen to share with his uncle.
Daemon steps back. ]
Do you want to stop doing it?
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His body-language echoes Daemon's, not quite stepping forward but neither leaning away. ]
I don't want to do it with just anyone.
[ It's not a bad way to make money and he enjoys the general performance, it's simply exasperating catering to different people. If he could enjoy himself and not have to worry about his bills depending on how attractive he looks, it would go back to being fun like in the beginning, before he ran out of money. ]
And it's ... a cleaner arrangement than a relationship.
[ He's kind of shitty at those. Cash for sex? Everyone is happy. ]
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A pause, considering, and then he reaches out and takes his nephew's chin in his hand, looking at him closely. Barely any touching, just the crook of his fingers and the press of his thumb, but it feels intimate for how much he shouldn't be doing it. ]
You've become a distracting young man, nephew.
[ Not a kid with a crush anymore. ]
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... Hmm.
[ He's interested in wherever Daemon is going with that compliment and doesn't want to let it pass into nothing between the books hemming them in. Those are words he cares about, unlike the thousands that surround them. ]
Perhaps your eyesight has simply gotten better, uncle.
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In another world he'd drag the younger man back up to his room. But Daemon isn't staying the night, he's merely killing an hour or so while his girls gossip in the kitchen over desserts fished out of the pantry. If only they had another outlet through which to explore sexual tension, right?
An almost-kiss, but Daemon pulls away. He takes a few steps backwards, giving Aemond a searing, smug look, before he turns. Just in time, as with footsteps approaching from the other side of the door. ]
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He gets a cold waft of air between them and a look that withers his burst of confidence.
Everything Daemon heard comes roaring back into Aemond's ears so that he gets it — his stomach drops like lead — just as Aegon comes huffing around the corner. His brother yelps as Aemond storms past, bewildered and not a little surprised to see their uncle there. Aemond? Uncle? Uhhh ...
Aemond is too long-legged for Aegon to catch up but that's alright, he wants to get as far away from the library as possible before the fire in his chest blows through all his ribs. ]
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He's as shameless an unruffled as ever when he pats Aegon on the shoulder and says he thinks Aemond is embarrassed about dinner still. Don't worry, no one expects you to actually meet my challenge. Think your half-sister would divorce me if Jace actually did it, though?
An awful man.
He collects the twins and says goodnight to Helaena, who never seems to notice whether or not he's been away, and that's that.
For now. His account is still there, a patron of SilverWings' work, like a hot poker being warmed in an open fire. ]
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He throws his bag in the taxi when it arrives and leaves without so much as a goodbye to his siblings. It makes for an expensive ride home because it's too late for the train and he can't really afford it, but fuck that house and the people in it. It's nearly midnight when he gets back to his apartment and he goes to bed in a shitty mood, not bothering to turn any of the lights on. He can't afford the fucking electric either. After thinking about it where he lays staring out of his bedroom window, he turns his phone off too and goes to sleep out of sheer spite to the whole world.
Back at the family house, Aegon is being scolded for his brother running off and looks like he might never stop wearing a Surprised Pikachu expression out of sheer indignation. To his credit however, he doesn't grass Aemond in. ]
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He goes. Between Baela's enormous Tiktok following and Rhaena's Instagram audience, there are a number of clips and photos of Daemon in flower headbands, or being made to judge bubble tea flavors (he doesn't like any of them). One even gets posted in the family group chat that Daemon still isn't in. Rhaenys reacts with an exaggerated amount of stickers and heart emojis, always overly pleased to get content of her granddaughters without Rhaenyra. Normal family dynamics.
Continuing normalcy:
The next day, a request comes in from RoguePrince. Sugar Daddies Only: DM directly to discuss. ]
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It really comes to something when the only source of mild constancy in your life is a dirty old man wanting to talk to you. At first Aemond intends to finish his crusts, then double-takes which channel the request is for and drops the toast on his plate.
He has to sit back and rub his eyes for a minute, shaking out the last of the cobwebs from a shitty evening before clicking the DM and getting his head in the game. He feels like a hypocrite doing this after begging Aegon to get their dad to bring him home but this is apparently just how Aemond's life is now, so why not just continue with the terribleness? At least it's partly fun, and he knows someone genuinely wants him. ]
Good morning, Daddy.
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[ He's not going to call him son, that's a bit odd. Odder still is doing this after having a father-daughter day, but he's better at compartmentalizing than one might think. Home now and not liking how he left it that night; he should have been more forthcoming. Or kissed him, at least.
Daemon is in his study (where the e-crimes happen, it's like having a hooded a cloak), tolerating a green smoothie and some bran toast. He wonders if Aemond has figured it out yet. ]
Have you done this before?
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You'll have to be more specific, I'm afraid. I had a rotten night and can't think straight.
I'm glad you wanted to talk, though.
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You've already had a rotten night? It hasn't been much time at all since you were showing me your pretty fingers.
Perhaps we should speak another time, if you aren't thinking straight. This sort of thing requires a clear head.
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They're not like you.
Say what you want, please.
[ Gods be good, he wants to vomit his toast in excitement. ]
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does he actually feel bad about this?? Unfortunate. Emotional weirdness forthcoming at last, perhaps. ]
I should think what I want is obvious. I'd like to indulge myself in your company, and make sure you're taken care of.
[ Prostitution is illegal. Best to be careful about the wording. ]
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As soon as I have what I need I'll book a hotel near you.
We will have from 6pm-8am the next day, if that's agreeable.
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Would you like to speak on the phone first?
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You can call me right now.
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Very well.
[ He uses the number connected to his tablet— not one that the family would have on file, even though he doubts Aemond would have any of his numbers saved anyway. Habits of discretion.
ring ring. ]
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just never got this notif even in the dw inbox, COOL
dw comin for uncle
he IS being very naughty
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🎄
me in my email notifs: ??? TREE-MON??? - oh
cwimmas!!!
mERRY CHRYSLER
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🥂
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