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 think we would not get very clean," he points out, smiling as he kisses Nathaniel's throat, his shoulder, smoothing hands over wet skin.

"We've been sitting the water enough for me to prune," Nathaniel says. "I think that counts as getting clean, doesn't it?"

Asher laughs.

"Lean back, cher," he whispers, supporting Nathaniel's shoulders as his lover obeys, dropping him back until the water laps around his hairline, covers his ears for a moment. He lifts Nat back up again, reaches for the shampoo, pouring a generous amount in to his palm.

Nathaniel smiles at him, an expression sorely missing over the past few days.

"You're going to wash me now?" he asks, actually surprised.

"If you do not mind," Asher murmurs, coaxing Nathaniel to turn around, gathering a handful of hair and working the shampoo into the long strands.

The loss of Asher within is noted by a disappointed sigh, though it's quickly replaced by soft purring as Asher works the soap through his hair.

"Are sick of me smelling of your shampoo yet?" he asks, smiling at the water. "I should gather up my courage, get dressed, and go fetch my toiletries from Anita's room."

Not that he minds smelling utterly like Asher all the time, quite honestly.

Asher smiles, kneading Nathaniel's scalp with his fingertips.

"I like you smelling of me, mon chat," he murmurs, brushing his lips against the back of Nathaniel's shoulder, slowly working his way down to the ends of Nathaniel's hair, making sure his hair is thoroughly soaped.

"Are you a possessive vampire, then?" Nathaniel purrs, continuing to smile. "Wanting everyone to know just who my Master is?"

Asher growls playfully, sliding his hand up Nathaniel's thigh, rubbing over the scar that he's sure is almost permanent by now.

"Mine," he murmurs, tugging Nathaniel's hair, making him lean back, tilt his head back, as Asher carefully pours cupped handfuls of water over his hair, washing the soap out.

Nathaniel shivers, loving that word on Asher's lips. It's this soul-deep satisfaction that is met in that one word finally uttered by Asher. He likes that scar, likes the matching one slowly forming on his throat as Asher trades off spots he feeds from -- though his vampire always feeds over the old marks, deepening the scars. He loves the rings that always burn slightly in his flesh, reminding him of Asher every moment of his life.

He bares Asher's marks both tangibly and intangibly, and Nathaniel relishes each one.

"Yours," he murmurs, closing his eyes as the shampoo is rinsed from his hair. "Please don't ever change your mind... even if you stop loving me, please keep me, Asher. Please."

Asher stills, sadness in his eyes as he wraps his arms around Nathaniel's waist, pulls him back against his chest.

"Never," he promises. "I will always love you, mon chat." Vampires do not love lightly, and Asher is even more loyal than most of his counterparts. His love is not easily won, but once achieved, nothing can break it.

Closing his eyes, Nathaniel takes that promise to heart. He rests his arms atop Asher's around him, letting out a shaky breath.

"Do you believe me when I say I'll always love you?" he asks, enjoying the strength of Asher's arms around him.

Asher nods, knowing Nathaniel will feel the movement against his hair, his shoulder.

"Come," he murmurs after a while. "We should get out before it grows too cold in here."

Nathaniel takes a moment to rinse his throat of the lingering blood, hissing a little before he finally rises out of the bathtub. He grabs towels for himself and Asher. It takes two towels to wring the water from his hair, and then he wraps a third towel around his waist. It takes a few minutes, Nathaniel humming to himself while Asher dries off, to finger-comb leave-in conditioner into his hair and place a bandage over Asher's bite.

He smiles at his reflection in the mirror, a finger running over the bandage. "I think one of my favorite things to do is feed you," he murmurs.

Asher dries his hair roughly, letting it fall over his shoulders as he walks to stand behind Nathaniel, taking a brush out of the cabinet and quickly combing his hair.

That done, he starts to comb Nathaniel's, utterly unashamed of his nudity.

"I wish I could still give you the pleasure my bite once did," he murmurs.

As if Asher has any reason to be ashamed of his nudity. Nathaniel closes his eyes, adoring the care Asher gives him.

"I didn't feed you because your bite was... amazing. I did it because I liked the closeness I felt with you when you did it." He reaches back to briefly grasp Asher's hip. "Will it always be denied me now, though? Does it ever change?"

Asher shakes his head, frowning as he focuses on Nathaniel's hair.

"If we were to share the fourth mark," he says, slowly and carefully, "the pleasure of my bite would be restored." He doesn't want to share any more marks, not yet. Sharing more means Nathaniel knowing more about him, means them baring their souls, their memories, almost completely.

Nathaniel hears that careful tone, and his face flushes.

"That's not something you'd want," he says, trying very hard to sound as neutral as can be.

"Give us time to settle into the second mark," Asher murmurs, trying to apologise without actually apologising.

"It is not because of you that I do not want it," he continues.

Ah, but that second statement says the truth of things. Asher doesn't want it, and Nathaniel thinks that's to be expected. He'd seen what it is like for Anita, her thoughts shared even when she doesn't necessarily mean them to be. Asher likes his privacy, and he knows he's no Julianna, and Asher's been hurt and--

He stops with the excuses and nods a little. "I have more than I could have hoped for now," he whispers, managing a smile into the mirror. "I don't hope for more. Two marks bound to a master vampire I love, claimed as his pomme and lover. More than I ever dreamed for myself."

Asher slides his arms around Nathaniel's waist, sighing as he sorts through his jumbled thoughts. He had promised them both that he would talk, that he would open up more to Nathaniel. And he will, no matter how hard it is.

"I have done many things I am not proud of," he whispers. "I could not bear to have you know of them."

"I wouldn't stop loving you," Nathaniel says, appreciating Asher's words more than he's sure Asher understands. "I've done things I'd be horrified of you knowing... but Anita doesn't know everything of Jean-Claude's past. He keeps it carefully away from her, even if he knows all of Richard and Anita."

"Jean-Claude is stronger than I," Asher murmurs. "And the triumverate...complicates things somewhat." And, knowing Asher's luck, the few things Nathaniel would see would be the ones he most wanted hidden.

Nathaniel nods a little.

"I understand," he murmurs. "I do." Another smile in the mirror. "I won't ask about it again."

"Ask me again when more time has passed," Asher whispers, kissing Nathaniel's shoulder again.

"Come, mon chat. You need to eat something else." He tugs Nathaniel towards the bedroom, intent on feeding up his leopard.