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Stannis felt the tick start to develop as Renly determinedly consulted his whiteboard, color coding every name according to family-line and order of age. Halfway through he reconsidered and wiped them all out, this time organizing them by “desirability.”
Like Renly would know anything about that, the proof being his boyfriend who was currently sitting gracefully in the lounge chair with a slurpee in hand. Loras gave him a blue stained smirk when their eyes met.
His little brother’s boyfriend was enjoying this much more than was appropriate. Then again, it might have been revenge for how “warmly” the middle Baratheon had welcomed the Tyrell into the family. In his defense, walking on his baby brother “being boned” (as Robert had vulgarly said) by a pretty-boy jock did not have a very enamouring effect. Renly laughed it off as over-protective-brother syndrome.
But Loras had taken it as a challenge. A challenge on how to make Stannis the most miserable in his life. “Not that he needs much to look any more miserable,” Loras muttered around his straw.
“What was that?” Stannis barked suspiciously. Loras turned his smirk into a sweet smile as Renly turned around to see what the two were doing. Renly raised his eyebrow, grinning a bit in understanding, and turned back to his laptop to a slide show he had put together.
Everything was going according to plan. Renly was totally enthused and had tricked Stannis to hear him out. Honestly, for all he claimed to dislike Renly, he sure did indulge him a lot. It must have something to do with their parents dying when they were so young, especially Renly. While Robert was off partying and being a complete manwhore, Stannis was the only remote parental figure in Renly’s life. Besides the elderly butler that had been in the Baratheon service since the dawn of the ages apparently.
Stannis checked his watch and huffed as Renly started printing out what seemed like dozens of papers. “Are you going to show me any time soon? I really don’t have time for your nonsense, Renly. I have term papers to write, a group project to oversee, an online exam to take and probably Robert to bail out of jail some time before the night ends,” Stannis said with absolute deadpan.
Renly only smiled his youthful grin and grabbed up the last of the color-ink-heavy printouts. “Alright, alright,” he chuckled and pushed Stannis into one of the comfortable chairs Renly loved. He looked stiff and uncomfortable perched on the plush cushions. Like a great big bird about to lay a particularly monstrous egg, thought Loras with a muffled chuckle. The two Baratheons ignored him in favor of facing the white board.
Renly pointed at the first name and shoved the first print out under Stannis’s nose. “First is Asha Greyjoy, heiress to Ironman Cruises. Loras and me-”
“Loras and I,” Stannis interrupted automatically, looking at his brother dispassionately as he glared. Loras rolled his eyes in the background and set his empty cup down.
“Met Asha at a concert last month. She was clever as a fox and I think just the type of personality to balance out your old-man-grumpiness with her fuck-all attitude,” Renly said happily, watching Stannis closely as he examined the picture of Asha he had stolen off facebook. She was giving the camera the middle finger while she leaned against a wall, wearing a leather jacket over a tight t shirt and mini skirt.
Stannis looked blankly at the picture before thrusting it back at Renly. “Absolutely not,” he replied gruffly, eye twitch the only indication that any of it was bothering him.
“Okay...,” Renly muttered. “should have seen that one coming.” He put Asha in the shredder and crossed her name off with a red marker. Next he pointed at Cersei Lannister’s name.
“Cersei Lannister, heiress to Lion Jewelers and Lannister Mining Corp. She’s sexy as hell and has been known to make grown men cry. She definitely-”
“No,” Stannis said before the young Baratheon could finish his shtick. He let her picture fall to the floor without a second glance, her prissy pout glaring up at the ceiling in rebellion.
“Okay, how about this, Catelyn Tully, heiress to Riverrun Transport. Redhead, crazy about duty and honor, so you’d have that much in common. And I hear from Little Petyr Baelish she’s fiery as her hair, so you know you won’t be bored in the-”
“Don’t,” Stannis gritted between clenched teeth, “finish that sentence. Cross her off too.” Renly scowled as he scratched the oldest Tully off.
“Her younger sister, Lysa-”
“No, I’ve heard about Lysa Tully. Don’t even start,” Stannis cut out, fixing a glare first at Renly then more lingeringly at Loras. The Tyrell had to fight the urge to stick his tongue out, or just jump him in a flurry of fists already. It was bound to happen one day.
Renly sighed offputtingly and scratched off a few more names before handing Stannis a new photo. “Okay, that leaves Daenerys Targaryen and Margaery Tyrell.”
“Woh, my sister is not a part of this,” Loras immediately protested, straightening in this seat to glare minutely at Renly then more intensely at the sourpuss himself.
“Daenerys Targaryen is pretty, kind, charitable and-”
“Her father is a suspected gangster accused of murder,” Stannis finished, leaning forward as if to get up.
“Wait, he’s only suspected, and they have no proof,” Renly said quickly just as Stannis started to stand.
“What about Margaery? She’s almost as pretty as her brother and way smarter than any of the other girls on the list. And besides she-”
“I,” Stannis thundered over Renly’s rambling. “will never be related to that.” He pointed at Loras. Loras gave his a disdainful look, “Like I want you to marry my sister? Please.”
“Alright, enough of this, I have to go supervise that damned theology project before Melisandre decides the best way to research is to join a cult,” Stannis grit before walking towards the exit.
“Wait, Stannis. What about Davos?” Renly asked in a panicked voice. Stannis promptly about faced and stared at Renly. For a second the youngest Baratheon looked stunned that his brother had stopped but finally smiled in triumph.
“He has been your best mate since high school. So if none of these lovely ladies does it for you then maybe-”
“Are you some kind of idiot?” Stannis asked, voice completely void of emotion.
“Okay, okay. If not Davos, maybe... um, let’s see... Jaime Lannister! He’s quite attractive!”
“Pardon?!” Loras piped up suddenly, but was thoroughly ignored.
Stannis growled,“Jaime Lannister is a arrogant, hotheaded-”
“Oh, I know! Ned Stark! You two can be painfully solemn and honorable together. Dream team of duty if you will,” Renly crowed happily. A silence engulfed them as Loras had to choke back his guffaws and Stannis clenched his fists until they were white as a ghost.
“THIS, this. This is your influence,” Stannis suddenly roared, pointing threateningly at Loras as he started to spill out of his chair from the sheer force of his laughter. “I RUE the day my brother ever met you and you seduced him into your bed. I should have forbade him from seeing you the very moment I saw you dishonoring his-”
“Rue, Stannis? Forbade? Dishonoring? Really, brother dearest? Don’t you think you are being a tad dramatic?” Renly interrupted mid-tirade, forgetting his earlier enthusiasm. Stannis growled as his brother rolled his midnight blue eyes.
“Okay, Loras, it looks like this whole thing is futile,” Renly said with an exaggerated sigh. “My brother is determined to be painfully single to the end of his days. Let us leave him to his sad, singular existence and go get some tacos.”
“And nachos,” Loras added as they left.
Stannis stood there for another fifteen minutes rubbing his temples in agitation. “Cressen!” he suddenly yelled.
“Yes, Stannis,” the butler answered at once, coming into the living room from the kitchen.
“Could you please get me some aspirin? My brother seems to have triggered my chronic migraines again.”
“Of course, Stannis.” The next few seconds were blissfully silent before his cell phone started to buzz.
“Hello?”
“Stannis?”
“Robert?”
“Hey, can you... can you get to the car?”
Stannis paused before answering. “Where? And How much?”
Ten minutes later Stannis was on his way to Mexico with a good chunk of change and a Spanish-English dictionary, migraine still raging as he grinded his poor teeth.
