Tros Anchisiade, facilis descensus Averno;
noctes atque dies patet atri ianua Ditis;
sed revocare gradum superasque evadere ad auras,
hoc opus, hic labor est. Pauci, quos aequus amavit

The gates of hell are open night and day;
Smooth the descent, and easy is the way:
But to return, and view the cheerful skies,
In this the task and mighty labor lies.

Vergil- Aeneid, Book 6
-

The clack of heels could be heard down the corridor as Vincent made his way to the dungeons. He had specifically requested this of his master, had wanted to be the one to see the Hatter so helpless. Would he beg? Surely not, no. His pride wouldn't allow him that; He would make taunting comments, try to drag as much mirth from the blonde as he possibly could, or at least that was what he would prepare himself for as he approached the door.

"Well, Mister Hatter, you seem to have gotten yourself in quite the predicament." Stepping closer to where the man hung, chained to the wall, he ran a finger across one of those chains lightly, allowing his fingers to brush over the other man's to rest on the shackles at his wrists. "Do those shackles chafe?" I hope so. It's no less than you deserve.

"Ara~ So they sent the Drain Rat, how quaint. You know how I so love to be near you~" The sarcasm in his voice was plain, not letting the other doubt his disdain for a minute. Traitor. You betrayed Pandora for them. I wonder why; What is it that you know? "Oh, they aren't too uncomfortable, a work out for my shoulder muscles, i'm sure~" In truth, they were cold and cumbersome. There was little doubt in his mind that they would chafe before long, but he wouldn't give Vincent the satisfaction of hearing him admit to it.

"Always so cruel. You know saying such things when I could do whatever I want to you right now, a risky move, ne? I wouldn't want you to get hurt." Drawing a pair of scissors from beneath his robes, one by one he cut the buttons from the others shirt before returning them. "Are you cold?" He'd noticed the man shiver, it was the smallest of movements but nonetheless he spotted it. As if to warm him, he placed a hand on the albino's chest, directly over the incuse, before raking his fingers down that pale flesh; Marring it with pink trails. A malicious smile pulled at the corners of his lips at the wince he'd drawn from Break.

"Tsch. Wouldn't that upset your Master?" His tone was clipped, spitting the words at the blonde. "You wouldn't want that, after all, you deemed him so much more important than the rest of us." Anger washed through him, drowning out the slight pain as blood welled to the surface of some of the marks.

His Master, what a joke. The boy might well be the next Glen but he knew almost as little as the Hatter did. They were fools, all of them. Hands on Break's thighs so he could not kick at him, Vincent leant in, licking along one of the trails his fingernails had just made, tasting the slightly clammy skin that he would soon make just as heated as he wished. Working his way past the mark, he bit and sucked at the Hatter's collarbone, marking him. "Don't be so dense." My motives are my own. I will not be controlled so easily, it's all for him. What I want doesn't matter. It never has.

Break hissed, wounds stinging, biting back a less than pained sound at the bite. What was he thinking? Why would he do this? The answer eluded him as of yet. He never managed to form a reply, some snide remark he would have flung at the blonde, instead he found Vincent's lips pressed roughly to his own; Though the blonde's mouth was shut, his own opened slightly. Instinctively. Was his body really going to betray him now, in this of all things?