nathaniel_kitten | Cerulean Sins

Cerulean Sins - Interlude #1

Nathaniel, still dressed in that ridiculous outfit Jean-Claude had ordered him placed into, is pacing Asher's room. He'd unbound his hair, though, the moment he'd entered the room he'd come to see as a quiet haven, where no one bothered them, where no one dared to bother them.

But now... now he's livid and angry and downright pissed.

Asher had slept with Anita. He'd fucked Anita and Jean-Claude and hadn't even warned him! Hadn't asked his opinion. Hadn't done anything but do what he'd wanted. Oh, he'd known Asher would be with Jean-Claude again, but he'd never thought his vampire would sleep with Anita. Never!

It brings tears to his eyes, and he furiously swipes them from his cheeks.

What was worse, Anita had slept with Asher.

Of course she had. Why wouldn't she? He'd been unable to resist the vampire, how could Anita? But Asher didn't even like Anita. At least Nathaniel loved her! She'd rather sleep with someone she didn't trust, who didn't love her, than with him.

He stops with his back to the door and bows his head, covering his face with his hands as he tries to control to sobs that escape him in little, halted sounds.

It simply wasn't fair, and he was growing tired of his life never having a moment of fairness in it.

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"You love me, of that I have no doubt," Asher murmurs.

"But I am not the only person you love." It might be a different sort of love, but he has no illusions that Nathaniel would be a hell of a lot less angry if he had slept with anyone other than Anita.

"You are young, Nathaniel, and still so very human." He stands painfully still, less emotion than a statue, his voice very carefully controlled. "There are others who would be...more suited to you, perhaps. And yes, I expect the worst. But that is because I have had six centuries of receiving it, six hundred years of pain and betrayal."

"You knew I loved her before you ever fucked me," Nathaniel says in a low, quiet voice. It might even border on an actual growl.

But now he's beginning to wonder if they'll ever overcome the massive difference in age and experience.

And species, which Nathaniel hadn't really thought had been a problem until just now.

"I can't undo six hundred years of abuse," he says, eyes flecked with gray. "I can't even begin to comprehend that much suffering. I've never pretended to." Nathaniel shoves off from the dresser, and by the time he's pretty much toe-to-toe with Asher, his eyes have bled to full-out gray. "But you know what? I have my own little bag of angst, Asher, and I certainly don't expect you to make it better or make it go away. You told me you would never abuse me and I trusted that. I didn't hold you up to the assholes who raped and beat and tortured me day in and day out since I was eight!"

Nathaniel snorts, shaking his head as he crosses his arms.

"More suited to me. Because I was doing brilliantly before. You know, with all the swords shoved through me or the gang-bangs or how about the almost dying part in Tennessee? I didn't hold that against you, either! So give me a little credit. I may only be twenty, but I've lived more in those twenty years than most people will ever live in a single lifetime."

"So we are both rather broken," Asher snaps, "That, I think, we both knew." He faces down Nathaniel, angry and confused and hurt and aching from head to toe. He sways a little on his feet, trying to seem intimidating and failing as he gropes for his bedpost, lowering himself onto the bed, blinking away a sudden bout of dizziness.

"I cannot say I regret what happened, because I do not. I would go to Jean-Claude again, if he asked. Anita too." His voice is weary, resigned. "I do not know what you expect me to do."

That sad feeling settles over him like a blanket, and the gray slowly shifts back to lavender in his eyes.

"Nothing," Nathaniel murmurs, deflated. "I... don't expect you to do anything."

And he truly doesn't. He's not sure what he'd been wanting out of this confrontation, but Nathaniel's pretty sure he's gotten it. Whatever it had been. Maybe later, when talking with Liz or Damian, he'd sort it out enough to know, but right now he just feels kicked in the stomach.

Nathaniel goes to the dresser and picks up his t-shirt, slipping it on, tugging it down a couple of time, and though he tries to find words, nothing comes to mind. So, he grabs his socks and goes to a nearby chair, sitting down to put them on.

Asher watches silently, wanting to say something, to stop Nathaniel from leaving. He doesn't know what he's said, doesn't know what he needs to say, but he can't just sit there in silence.

"Would it have helped if I had asked you?" He asks, quietly. "If you had known that it would happen?"

With his sock half on, Nathaniel stares at his foot.

"I think so, yes," Nathaniel finally murmurs. "If I had known, if you'd explained the reasons... I know I wouldn't have objected because I wouldn't have wanted Musette to hurt you."

Only now does he look at Asher again.

"But I didn't know. I didn't know, and my friends -- the people who have been covering for us for months now -- saw that I didn't know. It's an awful feeling. I don't like feeling like the punchline of some joke I didn't even know was being made." Now the tears return, no matter how much he fights them. "I told you at the beginning that all you needed to do was tell me where I belonged, but you didn't, you just told me you loved me. Do I come before them? Do they come before me?"

And now that youth Asher spoke of comes to the forefront, because Nathaniel is terribly stunted emotionally. He bows his head, sniffling.

"Just tell me where I belong, Asher, that's all I've asked of you, all I still ask of you. Where do I belong?"

Asher moves, kneeling at Nathaniel's feet.

"Oh, mon chat," he sighs, reaching up to cup his cheek. There are many nights he wishes he could have again, change things - and his night with Anita and Jean-Claude has just been added to the list.

"You belong here," he murmurs, wiping away a tear with his thumb. "You, first and always." He sighs. "If it upsets you, if you do not wish me to be intimate with Anita and," he pauses, unsure if he can promise it. "Jean-Claude, too. I will do what you ask." It will make him deeply unhappy, but if it's a choice between losing Jean-Claude, whom he only has half of, at best, and losing Nathaniel, he knows what his choice will be.

Nathaniel's brow furrows.

"I would never ask you to choose between us," he breathes. "Never. I knew you loved him before we were ever anything. I accepted that, that at some point... you would be with him again. I won't ask you to do that, I won't."

He doesn't want to make Asher unhappy. He loves Asher, and when you love someone, you make some concessions.

"What upsets me is that I wasn't told." He can't help but lean into Asher's touch, because there simply was nothing like his vampire's touch. "I saw you leave Jean-Claude's room. I was there, in the hallway. You could have told me. You didn't."

"I was hurt," Asher murmurs, bowing his head, resting his cheek against Nathaniel's thigh. "Hurt, and angry, and I wanted time to think, to explain to you." He sighs. "I did not think leaving Jean-Claude's room naked, covered in Anita's blood, was how to tell you."

After a moment, Nathaniel's fingers begin to comb through Asher's hair.

"What would you have explained?" he asks. "How would you have told me?"

"If there had been time," Asher murmurs, "before Anita even kissed me." He closes his eyes as Nathaniel's fingers slowly move through his hair, letting out a quiet sigh of relief.

"I wanted to come to you," he adds, voice still soft. "When I had showered. But so much is going on, there was no chance." He rests his hand on Nathaniel's knee, gently.

"I love Jean-Claude, and I always will. But I love you more."

Nathaniel smiles an odd smile Asher can't see.

"Don't say that," he says. "It's a sweet sentiment, but love doesn't work like that. Even I know that. All you have to do is live with Anita for a couple of months to know love is what it is, and no one is loved more than anyone else. People are just loved... differently."

He leans over and presses a tender kiss to Asher's temple.

Asher smiles, turning so that he's sitting, his back against the side of Nathaniel's chair, the back of his head resting on Nathaniel's thigh. He tugs Nat down for a soft kiss, apologetic and grateful all at once.

"Je t'aime, mon chat," he murmurs, running his hand down Nathaniel's sleeve.

"That outfit...I think Jean Claude put you in it to torture me with what I could not touch," he smiles, faintly.

He laughs quietly, fingers tracing down Asher's throat, but then the laughter dies.

"I was so scared when Belle did what she did to you..."

Nathaniel closes his eyes, resting his brow against Asher's.

"I love you."

This time the kiss is not soft. It's passionate and deep with an edge of desperation to it.

Asher slides up from his knees, deepening the kiss, holding on tightly to Nathaniel.

"It is not the first time she has done such a thing," he murmurs. "But I hope it will be the last." He brushes Nathaniel's hair back from his face, letting his fingers slide through the loose strands, combing them down to Nathaniel's waist.

He slides his hands under Nathaniel's shirt as he tries to think of a way to soothe Nathaniel, a way to make up for what has happened. His thumbs smooth across Nathaniel's nipples, unmarked and perfect, and he grins, slowly, into the kiss.

Nathaniel gasps, shivering in the chair, lips just brushing Asher's.

"I want you safe, with me. My knight," he says, his voice breathy and uneven as his fingers glide down Asher's throat. "And why are you grinning like that?"

"Because I remembered something, cher," Asher purrs, pushing up Nathaniel's shirt.

"I still have the rings you gave me in my drawer," he points out.

Edited 2009-08-27 17:33 (UTC)

There is staring, even after Asher removes his shirt, baring his chest to his vampire.

"You want to pierce me? Now? Shouldn't you feed and then rest?"

"I can do that, after," he murmurs.

"Unless...you do not wish it now?" He leans in, scraping his teeth across one nipple, fangs pricking either side as his tongue flicks across the raised nub.

Nathaniel shudders, moaning as he watches Asher.

"No... no, I... want to. If you want to mark me like that," he whispers.

Asher pulls back, rising smoothly to his feet and taking Nathaniel's hand.

"Mmmm, yes," he smirks, fisting the hair at the nape of Nathaniel's neck, tugging his head back sharply. He leans in, nipping at his leopard's throat, leading him towards the bed.

Nathaniel moves as gracefully as he can, but the abrupt change in tone between them leaves him a little off-balance. He sits heavily on the bed, looking up at Asher, his skin flushing with excitement and arousal.

"Asher--"

He stops himself, swallowing the words.

"Do you want me naked or like this?" he asks softly.

"Naked," he purrs, running his hand down Nathaniel's shoulder, arm, a soft, soothing caress. He opens his bedside drawer, taking out the two silver rings, carefully laying them on the top of the nightstand.

"I have one more request," he asks, softly. "You are under no obligation to say yes," he pauses, then sits down beside Nathaniel. "I would like to give you the second mark."

He stops mid-strip and stares at Asher.

"The..." Nathaniel swallows. "On purpose?"

Asher nods, slowly.

"On purpose, yes. I...I do not want to be afraid of being close to you," Asher explains.

"You won't gain anything from the second mark, but I will be able to taste food, touch you in your dreams. If you do not want that, now is the time to say so."

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