nathaniel_kitten | Incubus Dreams

Incubus Dreams - October 27th

Nathaniel navigates the Jeep through traffic, hurrying as quickly as he dares. He can feel the odd sense of people in his head, and he's not sure he likes it. In fact, he knows he doesn't. Four minds on the peripheral of his own, and only because he exerts enough thought to keep them on the peripheral. Richard would be bringing Anita to the Circus after her raising, and Nathaniel already knows Damian's in Jean-Claude's room. He only has one thought now: find Asher.

He parks the Jeep in the employee parking lot of the Circus and lets himself in, nodding distractedly at the guard placed just inside. Nathaniel's feet take him down into the depths of the Circus, down to the hallway that houses the Master of the City and his second and third. He knocks impatiently at Asher's door, not wanting to interrupt his lover but needing to talk to Asher.

Now.

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Asher opens the door, already frowning at Nathaniel's panicked heartbeat.

"Cher?" He asks softly, drawing Nathaniel in for a kiss. "What is it?"

Nathaniel clings to Asher, kissing his vampire, but his heart doesn't stop racing.

"We need to talk," he whispers. "Something happened."

And he's pretty sure Asher isn't going to like it.

Asher kisses Nathaniel, trying to soothe him by stroking his hands through Nathaniel's hair, frowning at the mingled scents that cling to his lover, far happier when Nathaniel smells only of him, rare as that may be now he's moved back to Anita's home.

"What is it, mon chat?" He asks, drawing Nathaniel further into his room, towards the couch.

He knows he's covered in everyone else's scents: Anita, Damian, Richard, Micah. Asher's is lost among many, and Nathaniel hates it. He pushes them into the room closing the door behind him.

"Something... happened," he says, beginning to pace a little. He feels like a caged animal, really, with all his anxiety. "I don't know how it happened, but Anita, Damian, and I were in her kitchen and the ardeur rose. But it wasn't just the ardeur. It was more, Asher, it was bloodlust and beast and sex."

Nathaniel tugs a little at his hair as he looks at Asher, fear shining in damp eyes.

"No one meant for it to happen!" he says, trying to be insistent. "We touched, all three of us, and Jean-Claude and Richard were both feeding and hunting... and something slipped into place..." Nathaniel tries to hold back a sob. "Anita and Damian are four marks bound, and Anita thinks I now have three marks from her... or from Damian... we have no idea. All I know is that I have Damian and Anita and Jean-Claude and Richard in my head!"

Asher sits down heavily on the end of the bed.

"You..." He stops, feeling his heart plummet, realising even as he reaches out with his mind that his marks are lost, his connection to Nathaniel buried under that he now shares with Anita, and Damian. And by extension, Jean-Claude and Richard. They are connected, the five of them together.

But not to him.

"A pentumverate of vampire, human, and lycanthrope has never occured, that I know of," he answers, taking refuge in logic, in the metaphysics of it, rather than his feelings. He cannot think of that now, not when Nathaniel is here.

Nathaniel's heart twists in his chest.

"I like our marks," he says, staring at Asher. "They're what's important. They're marks I wanted."

Even if he only has the two from Asher versus the three from Anita or Damian, those are the two he clings to. They bind him to Asher, and he doesn't want to lose that.

"We also, somehow, cut Damian off from his maker," Nathaniel adds. "She tried to kill us all with fear, to take back what was her from Damian, but Anita and Richard were able to sever that tie." He steps closer to Asher, wanting to touch his Master, his vampire, to assure himself Asher still wants him. "I'm sorry, Asher, I'm sorry... I didn't mean to be a part of it... I promise, I'm so sorry..."

"It's alright, mon chat," Asher murmurs automatically, reaching out for Nathaniel, drawing him close. He knows that Nathaniel would never do this intentionally, would never seek to hurt him. He cannot help but despair, however, that all those he loves, the most powerful in their group, are now irrevocably bound. And he, notably, is not.

He's been with Asher long enough to be able to read his vampire. Nathaniel knows it isn't all right. He crawls into Asher's lap, knees resting on either side of Asher's thighs, and presses his face to Asher's throat.

"Please don't be angry," he whispers. "Please don't be sad. I'm yours, Asher, yours. I promise. Your cat, yours."

Nathaniel just keeps whispering 'yours' to Asher, wanting to promise anything and everything to the master vampire.

Asher shakes his head, closing his eyes as he wraps his arms around his leopard, relishing the weight, the warmth of him, so close.

"I'm not angry," he murmurs, stroking Nathaniel's back. "And I know. Mon chat." He reassures them both, turning to hide his face in Nathaniel's hair, his heart breaking just a little. He has absolute faith in Nathaniel, in the love they share. But he cannot compete with the bond of a triumverate. Not unless he marks Nathaniel a third time, and they are neither of them ready for that.

Asher assures him he is not angry, but there is no assurance that his vampire is not sad. Nathaniel believes Asher will never lie to him, and the obvious absence of that reassurance speaks volumes. He gives a quiet mewl.

"Tell me what I'm supposed to do," he whispers.

"I do not know," Asher whispers, kissing Nathaniel's hair, tightening his arms around Nat, holding him close. He doesn't like that Nathaniel smells of them, of Anita and Damian most of all.

Shifting, uncaring of his clothes or Nathaniel's, Asher tugs Nathaniel under the covers of his bed, surrounding them in the combined scent of him, and Nathaniel, the nights they've spent in this bed, just the two of them.

"You hate their scent on me."

Nathaniel burrows closer.

"In a way, so do I."

Asher nods, pressing just as close, curling his body around Nathaniel's smaller one, his hands tangling in Nathaniel's hair as he kisses him, slowly eroding any other kiss, any other touch, any scent that might cling to Nathaniel.

A quiet noise in the back of his throat is fed into the kiss. His whole body still aches from Damian's attack, his shoulder a little stiff, but it doesn't matter. All that matters is reassuring Asher.

Reassuring himself.

"Anita wanted Jean-Claude to tell you when you woke up," he whispers. "I wouldn't let him. I had to tell you. It had to come from me. I needed to be here..."

"Thank you," he whispers, combing his fingers through Nathaniel's hair, over and over again, as if he can banish the thought, the scent, of others if he touches Nathaniel enough.

He wouldn't have taken it well if Jean-Claude had come to tell him. Anyone but Nathaniel, in fact.

Frightened lavender eyes look up at Asher, begging without words to be loved still, to be kept and protected and understood.

"We're supposed to go to Jean-Claude's room when they call for us," he says so softly. "But Damian's with him now, and Anita's at a raising."

They had time. Time to just... figure out what they can.

"Talk to me, Asher," he pleads. "You aren't talking and that scares me. Be angry or yell at me or something, but the quiet frightens me. When you're quiet..."

"I am not angry, mon chat," Asher murmurs, shaking his head gently.

"Truly, I cannot think of anything to say. Nothing that will not upset one of us, at least." But he tries, anyway.

"I am happy for you, that you have formed this connection with Anita. Even that you have it with Damian." He closes his eyes, presses his face to Nathaniel's shoulder.

"But I cannot be glad that those I love, those most powerful amongst my friends, are all now connected, save me." He has never felt quite so alone as he does now.

Nathaniel feels tears sting his eyes.

"I love you," he breathes unevenly, wishing that those three words could make Asher's world perfect and right and fulfilled. "You're m-my Master."

"I know, Nathaniel," Asher whispers. "I love you too." He kisses Nathaniel's shoulder, his eyes still closed.

"And I am your Master, as long as you wish me to be."

"What do you wish, Asher?" he asks, trying very hard not to cry and his hands touch every bit of Asher available. "I never know what it is you really want."

"You," Asher answers, lifting his head, sliding his thumb across Nathaniel's cheekbone, smelling the tears and hating that he is the cause.

"I want you to be mine, always," he says, kissing Nathaniel. That is easy to say, in comparison to the rest.

"I want to belong," he whispers. "To not feel like I am not good enough."

Nathaniel stares up at Asher, feeling very small.

"Have I made you feel not good enough?" That is the last thing he'd ever want to make Asher feel. "That you don't belong?"

He'd always be Asher's, even if Asher didn't quite yet believe it. The love he feels for his vampire is overwhelming sometimes, and he knows he never wants to really be apart from him for more than a few days...

And even that was becoming difficult.

Living arrangements were going to have to somehow shift soon.

Asher shakes his head.

"Not you. No one, on purpose." He can't explain it, not even to Nathaniel. Part of it is how at home Nathaniel is with Anita, how content he is there. He doesn't begrudge Nathaniel his happiness, not one bit. But his bed has never seemed as big, nor as lonely, as when Nathaniel is spending the night at Anita's, rather than at the Circus with him.

"You belong," he whispers. "You belong, Asher, with me. With Jean-Claude. With Anita. You belong with us."

"I am bound by affection, nothing more," he murmurs. "Save my marks with you. There is much more binding you, each to the other."

"Shouldn't that be enough?" he asks, searching Asher's gaze. "That you're bound by choice, not against your will?"

Asher knows he doesn't make sense; he was just as upset, months ago, by the thought of Nathaniel being bound to him through the marks, rather than through his own will.

"Perhaps I do not trust that choice alone will hold them to me."

Tears fill Nathaniel's eyes, because he knows he can't combat this. It isn't like Damian and him fucking. This isn't something that can just be stopped. Nathaniel feels his heart simply ache, sadness covering him like a drowning wave. There's nothing he can do. There's no way to change it, to make anything better.

He opens his mouth to speak, but what comes out is French, and he doesn't understand a word of it. "Asher, my friend. You know I love you. But right now, you need to stop talking before you make things even worse. I can feel Nathaniel's unhappiness like a needle in the back of my head, so I know that all of us are feeling it as well. If you have concerns, and I know you have, then bring them with you when we all convene to discuss this new wrinkle in our situations. But do not punish him for something he could have neither foreseen nor prevented."

Just like that, the overriding presence is gone from his mind, and all Nathaniel wants to do it curl up and cry. He feels twelve years old again, the youngest out of everyone around him, way out of his depth.

Asher takes a breath, closing his eyes.

"I am not trying to punish you," Asher murmurs, sliding close, kissing Nathaniel softly.

"I am sorry, mon chat, I had no wish to upset you."

Nathaniel wraps his arms around Asher, holding him tightly.

"I didn't ask for it, Asher. I didn't ask to be bound to anyone but you. I didn't ask for anyone to be inside my head or see... or to see what they saw." He squeezes his eyes shut tightly. "You belong, I promise, you belong."

"I know, cher. I know you didn't ask for it." Asher sighs, kisses Nathaniel again, wrapping his arms around his lover, holding him close.

"I love you," he breathes, looking deep into Nathaniel's eyes. "Never doubt that, mon coeur."

Nathaniel stares into the pale eyes, sniffles, and nods slightly.

"I'm your leopard," he whispers. "This doesn't change that. Nothing can ever change that."

Asher kisses Nathaniel rather than answer, running his fingers through Nat's long hair, trying to soothe him.

Wrapping his arms around Asher, Nathaniel loses himself in that kiss. He lets it be the focus of everything, pushing away the feel of others in him mind, of the fear boiling his gut. Kissing Asher was a easy and right as breathing, and so Nathaniel finds refuge there.

Nathaniel is not the only one finding refuge; Asher, too, loses himself in the kiss, in the warmth of Nathaniel's body against his.

He tangles a hand in Nathaniel's hair, pulling him impossibly closer.

It isn't long before Nathaniel is gasping for breath between kisses, his hands gripping at Asher's shirt. He doesn't care if he leaves wrinkles behind, he just wants Asher closer. Nathaniel whines, tugging at the fabric. "I can't feel you," he whispers brokenly. "We don't have to fuck, but please, shirts off. I just... I need to feel you, Asher."

Asher squirms out of his shirt, tossing it aside, pulling Nathaniel closer.

"Yes, cher." he breathes, rolling over until his body covers Nathaniel's, the sheets a tent around them, the air hot.

As Asher rids himself of his shirt, Nathaniel does the same, so that when Asher presses him down into the mattress, their bare chests touch. It's real, and Asher's scent -- their mingled scent -- surrounds him in the hot air beneath the blanket. His arms hold tightly to Asher, his face pressed to his vampire's throat.

"Always yours," he murmurs, though if it's more reassurance for Asher or himself, he doesn't quite know.

Asher casts away all thought of anything other than Nathaniel, how right it feels to have him close, have him here.

"Always," he says in return, breathing in the scent of Nathaniel, of their bed. It soothes the ache inside of him, for now.

"Can we just stay like this until we're called?" he whispers, not wanting to move, not wanting to talk anymore. Talking makes things worse. If they just stay like this, murmuring how much they love one another, things can't get worse, can they?

Asher nods, combing fingers through Nathaniel's hair, kissing him again and again.

"We can stay here forever," he promises, shutting out the world as he sinks into Nathaniel's arms.

Such a wonderful thought, forever. Nathaniel would love to stay just like this, held and kissed and loved by Asher, forgetting the world and what waited for them outside the blankets. It means even more than he's sure Asher realizes because Asher is simply holding and kissing him, not fucking him. Nathaniel had been so sure Asher would either send him away or fuck him to stake his claim, and his vampire hadn't done either.

"Forever," Nathaniel promises between one kiss and the next, even if he doesn't have forever to give. He'll simply give Asher all of what he has for as long as he has.

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Incubus Dreams - October 27th

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