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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"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.

Nathaniel, it should be noted, will never be a fluent speaker of French. And with how fast Asher and Jean-Claude speak it when they talk between themselves, Nathaniel has no hope of understanding even a fraction of what Asher says.

But the effort is what he wants to show, being able to understand small sentences and endearments, and give them back.

"I doubt that," Nathaniel says, running his fingers through Asher's hair. "It's a pretty language, but hard as hell to learn this late in the game. But, I'm trying. I just... want to make you happy. I like knowing I put this smile on your face just from trying."

"I love to hear you speak French," Asher murmurs softly, drawing Nathaniel into his arms, kissing him slowly.

"I hear it too little, save around Jean-Claude." He misses it, dreadfully. And if Anita's banishment extends to Jean-Claude, then unless he seeks out Valentina (and he shudders even at the thought), it will be a while until he hears it again.

Nathaniel smiles against Asher's lips.

"I'll learn whatever you want me to," he murmurs into the next kiss. "Anything."

Asher laughs.

"And what should I learn in return, cher?" He asks playfully, laying Nathaniel down amongst the pillows, blanketing his body.

The melancholy that has been clinging to Nathaniel over the last few days seems to lift in the playful banter between them. Asher's laughter keeps Nathaniel's smile in place, and the closeness is soaked up like a greedy sponge.

"I don't think there's anything I could ask you to learn that you don't already know," he murmurs.

"I am sure," Asher murmurs, kissing Nathaniel's nose, his cheek, dipping his head to press his lips to the curve of his lover's shoulder, "that if we try, we can find something I do not know."

Nathaniel begins to purr, the sound a little hesitant but happy, his fingers combing through Asher's hair while he tilts his head this way and that for his vampire.

"Maybe I should teach you how to cook," he murmurs.

Asher laughs softly.

"Will you let me cook for you?" He likes that idea, a lot. Mostly because he will, through Nathaniel, get to taste the results.

"I would. Mom taught me a lot before she died, and I never stopped liking cooking," Nathaniel says, lifting his head to nuzzle at Asher's throat. "I'd be happy to teach you. Since it's the fall, we could start with something simple: apple butter."

"Apple butter?" Asher asks, confused. It does not sound like a dish. Certainly not one he is used to.

Nathaniel blinks at him.

"I keep forgetting you're a vampire from a time when things like apple butter didn't exist."

"Nor sushi, beefburgers, milkshakes..." Asher has a guilty love of American diner food; not often, but he does love the strawberry milkshakes that Bar makes.

"I love sushi," Nathaniel says with a nod. "I swear, you are intent on making me gain twenty pounds."

Nathaniel chuckles, brushing his fingers down Asher's cheek.

"Apple butter is apples and spices and lemon juice cooked and cooked until it spreads like butter. It's sweet and reminds me of my mom. She used to make a lot of it in fall since apples were cheap. Nicky and I would eat it on toast or mixed into oatmeal, since bread and oat were also cheap."

"That sounds delicious, cher," Asher smiles. "I look forward to attempting to cook it." He's fully prepared to try cooking - and likely fail.

Whether Asher succeeds or not, Nathaniel is certain it will be quite a lot of fun.

"You said something about bathing," he murmurs. "I've never bathed with you. Damian, yes, but not you."

"Of course," Asher murmurs, brushing Nathaniel's hair gently back from his face.

"Shower, or bath?" He asks, slowly pulling out of Nathaniel's arms, sitting up.

Nathaniel smiles, keeping his hands on Asher.

"If I take a bath, I can use my hand on you. A shower, I can blow you."

Can you see where Nathaniel's mind is?

He kisses Asher softly as he sits up.

"I don't care, Asher. I just want to stay close to you. Shower, bath, here, St. Louis, it doesn't matter. You're home to me, and I can be content doing whatever wherever so long as you're there. So, you pick."

"Take a bath, and you can ride me," Asher points out, his voice soft, seductive, wrapping around Nathaniel like a warm blanket. It's fairly obvious where Asher's brain is going, too.

They had been going without for days now as Nathaniel wallowed in his sadness, so one can hardly blame either of them for wanting the other now.

"Bath then," Nathaniel murmurs.

There was nothing quite as perfect as Asher within him.