nathaniel_kitten | (no subject)

(no subject)

Nathaniel's been sleeping a lot.

He's not really quite sure how much time has actually passed, but he thinks he remembers seeing Asher awake at least three times. It could have all been in one night, it could have been three different nights. He isn't sure. Any attempt to pull him from blissful sleep has been met with solid resistance and a determined mind to go back to sleep. Save for a handful of bathroom trip and some drinks of water, Nathaniel has simply stayed curled up in bed.

But now, Asher is being insistent. Nathaniel pries his eyes open and looks at his vampire, blinking several times. He swallows, unsticking his tongue from the roof of his mouth, and licks his lips.

"I'm tired," he murmurs, voice husky with sleep.

Tired might have something to do with little food or water and a great big dollop of depression, but he tries not to be bitchy about anything. Nathaniel shifts in bed, drawing his knees up to his chest, and stares at Asher, trying to not think about Anita.

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"I know, mon chat," Asher murmurs, stroking Nathaniel's hair. He's worried by Nathaniel's lethargy, by his unwillingness to leave their bed.

"But you need to eat, please."

Nathaniel makes a soft whining sound.

"I'm not hungry."

He doesn't like the sound of concern in Asher's voice, knowing Asher worries about him. Nathaniel doesn't like being any source of a single unhappy emotion for Asher, but he just finds Anita's rejection so hard to overcome.

Asher kisses Nathaniel gently, winding a hand in auburn hair, tugging softly.

"You need to eat, to keep your strength up," he insists. "I can make it an order, if it will help." He knows that Nathaniel is taking Anita's rejection hard, but there is only so long that he can let this continue. He's ordered food from downstairs, knowing it should only be a few moments before it arrives.

Sure enough, before he can speak again, there's a soft knock at the door. He pads across the room, taking the tray from the waitrat. He brings it back over to the bed, lifting off the cover and smiling gently.

"Come, cher. Eat something."

"It's not really an order if I tell you to tell me to do it," Nathaniel mutters, yanking his pillow over his face.

But the leopard inside him is starving. It's the leopard that growls at the scent of meat -- rare and warm.

Asher, Nathaniel distantly thinks, plays dirty.

"That's not fair. You picked meat."

Asher can't help but smirk a little, tugging the pillow away from Nathaniel's face.

"I picked only what I thought you would like best," he murmurs.

"Now, food. And then, I think, a shower."

"You're not going to leave me alone, are you?"

When Asher gives him a pointed look, Nathaniel relents. He sits up, pulling the tray closer, his stomach making a loud, insistent noise.

He cuts the steak up and takes a few bites, chewing slowly, and then looks up at Asher. "She's not going to come back for me, is she?" he murmurs.

Asher sighs, then shakes his head gently.

"I do not believe so," he murmurs, "not until the month is up, at least."

Nathaniel feels a little lost, but he does manage not to cry.

Again.

He's sure Asher's had enough of his pathetically weepy moping.

Focusing on his food, he eats in silence, bite after bite until his stomach flat-out refuses to accept any more. Nathaniel stares at the mostly empty plate for a few moments, and then raises lavender eyes to Asher.

"I won't give you up," he says, his voice quiet but resolute. "You're the first person to love all of me at once and tell me it's all right to be me. You look at me like I matter. You listen to what I have to say and don't dismiss it. You touch me like a lover, not some wounded child that has to be handled so carefully. I matter to you." He tilts his head, an expression of confusion crossing his drawn, pale face. "How can that ever be bad just because you have a cock and I have a cock? It's not. It's just the way it went, and love... it doesn't care what's between someone's legs. I'd never been made love to before you, and I won't give that up. I won't give up on having what I have because I love what I have, even if I have to lose her."

Nathaniel's been thinking about this for a while now, but he hasn't said much to Asher. He thinks it's about time Asher knows what thoughts have been turning around in his brain between bouts of sleeping, and just how much the vampire means to him.

And what Nathaniel simply is not willing to compromise on.

"Je t'aime, mon cher...," Asher murmurs, leaning in to kiss him.

"I deeply regret that you were forced to choose between us," he continues, "but I cannot regret that you chose me. It means...everything to me, mon chat. Words cannot even begin to describe it."

A smile, the first one in days, is given to Asher. Nathaniel's fingers lightly touch Asher's hair as he looks fondly at his vampire.

"You thought I would really choose her, didn't you?" he asks.

Asher nods, tilting his head and leaning in to Nathaniel's brush of fingers through his hair.

"I did. You have loved her far longer than you have loved me. She has given you a home, a more stable life than I ever could."

His fingers move along Asher's jaw, down his throat.

"Length of time doesn't outweigh quality of care," he murmurs.

Asher draws Nathaniel into his lap, threading his fingers through Nathaniel's hair, grabbing a handful at the nape of Nathaniel's neck, pulling his head back gently but firmly. He dips his head, nuzzling at Nathaniel's throat.

"My Nathaniel," he whispers. "My beautiful, brave, Nathaniel."

Nathaniel shivers in Asher's lap, a soft, pleasure sound rumbling up and out of him. The gentle words, the tender touch such wonderful contrasts to the firm hand in his hair. His hands press to Asher's stomach as he closes his eyes.

"Do you still want me for your pomme de sang?" he breathes, heart beating just a little faster as he asks.

In answer, Asher nips at Nathaniel's throat, his fangs scraping pale flesh. It's not enough to draw blood, just enough to raise red welts, thin scoremarks that flush brightly as Asher pulls back, slowly.

"Yes," he murmurs at last. "Very much so."

Warmth fills Nathaniel, the light sting at his throat just making him all the warmer. He lifts his fingers to ghost over Asher's lips, his own curved into a pleased smile.

"Then I'm your pomme."

Asher smiles gently, kissing Nathaniel's fingers as they brush against his lips.

"There should be more of a ceremony for this," he murmurs. "I fear we shall have to make do with each other's company for some time, yet." He's scared to leave the room, not wanting Nathaniel to wake up alone, and utterly terrified of facing Jean-Claude, of what his friend, his master, his lover, will say. Now is when he will find out whether having Nathaniel in his life will cost him the thing he once held most dear.

The fingers leave Asher's lips, move over his cheek, up to his temple.

"You have to step outside the room sometime," Nathaniel murmurs. "I must be driving you insane by now."

"Only out of worry, mon chat," Asher murmurs in reply, kissing Nathaniel softly.

"I am very glad to see you awake, and eating."

"You can be very persuasive with a look," Nathaniel almost purrs against Asher's lips. "I just needed... time."

Nathaniel strokes his fingers through Asher's hair.

"And you gave it to me."

"Always, mon coeur," he breathes. "All the time that you need. I will be here."

"'My heart'," Nathaniel says, pleased to finally be able to understand the endearment. "I've been studying, mon chevalier vampire."

And Nathaniel's accents are almost right. He's been practicing, listening to the tracks he downloaded onto his iPod, trying so hard to be able to say things to Asher in his own language.

Asher's smile brightens the room, Asher nodding as he leans in, kisses the words from Nathaniel's lips.

"Very good," he murmurs, touched that Nathaniel's trying, that he has gone to the effort of learning French. "We will have you speaking like a native in no time," he continues in French, wondering how much Nathaniel will understand.

Nathaniel blushes as he tries to pick apart the sentence.

"We will have you... something something... in no time?" he asks. "Who's we and how will they have me?"

Asher is tempted to make a smart comment, but he cannot bring himself to tonight.

"We will have you speaking like a native in no time," he repeats in English, smiling. "Very well done, mon chat." He will have to be more careful of what he says in French, if Nathaniel is going to continue studying his native tongue.