Black Roses After The Storm

Rhion shoved roughly into the small niche, taking no care to protect his chilled body from the rugged sides of the puny shelter. In fact he somewhat welcomed the sharp throb of the scrapes across his arms and shoulders. The sting of physical hurt distracted him from a much less tolerable pain. A pain he was idiotic to even feel, goddammit!

Rhion growled softly, trying to beat back his very real anger. When De followed him into the small cave, he intended to show him a face of marble. In truth, his emotions were fairly well hidden already, except that his lips were somewhat thinned from their usual gentle fullness. And the humorous curl that usually graced the corner of his mouth was completely absent. His eyes and his mouth always gave away his inner softness, Kef had complained about that often.

He cursed softly at his own foolishness. Why should he take it so personally, that the boy had studied him like he was day-old garbage? As if he was totally nauseated by the thought of what he and Rhion had shared just moments before. He was a prince, after all. And Rhion knew damn well by now that princes weren't supposed to play the submissive with someone of "lower" rank. Probably weren't supposed to share with the lower classes at all!

Share, ha! That hadn't been "sharing", it had been mindless sex and nothing better. And apparently the kid had just endured even that, for some subtle reason of his own. But he wasn't able to play it on through to the end, shifty as he was. That last touch had done it for some reason, brought his disgust to the surface.

And the odd thing was, there had been only affection in Rhion's heart at that point. The gentle brush of his fingers across De's face had been a silent "thank you" more than anything. Thank you, what an ass he was! De's response sure as hell had been nothing like "you're welcome"!

He growled again and snatched for his knapsack, missed the bag, and whacked his knuckles a nasty crack against one of the rocks that thrust up from the floor of the little retreat. At this point all the control Kef had taught him was forgotten, and he filled the small shelter with every swear word he knew, as loud as he could shout them.

His felt dumber than ever as the echo of his own bitter voice faded, but he also felt rather more able to cope with life. He tugged out some dry clothes and dressed quickly, half-noting that the storm sounded less ferocious outside, though the rain still seemed to be falling steadily.

Come to think, where was De? Surely the little idiot hadn't walked off in a tantrum again? Damn, he'd never be able to track the spoiled brat after this downpour! And the kid was definitely stupid enough to go bumbling down into demon territory on his own just to be a bastard; Rhion had not the slightest doubt of that!

He was alarmed enough to forget his hurt feelings entirely; he poked his head out the door and peered around wildly. He was ready to kick his own ass for thoughtlessness, up until the moment he realized that the indistinct shape slouched against the rock face was the very one he sought. Then his target changed; he could barely hold himself back from kicking De's ass!

His feelings churned for a second; then a last, distant flash of lightening illuminated the area. And he was not so startled by seeing that Daimian had foolishly dropped off asleep in the rain---though his mind immediately processed a lecture that he would deliver later on.

"What did they do to you?" he asked softly of the fading night. "You weren't like this, when I first met you. I don't believe it was all from the crucifying, either, though the White God knows that was foul enough. It was your father, wasn't it? What the hell did that buck-toothed, sorry blood-licker do to you, to hurt you so damn much you can't even accept my friendship now?"

He remembered Damian at ten years old. A curiously self-possessed child, almost frighteningly mature in his manner. Far more adult-seeming than Rhion had been at twelve, when they had first met. But there had been none of this awful bitterness and suspicion in him then! His social skills had been smooth and flawless, and he had met Rhion Carlonday with honest interest and even a touch of liking that might have turned to true friendship if given the chance.

Oh, yes, he had visited the Leviathan plantation with his elder brother Antonio. It was a part of a young boy's upbringing, to meet and greet those families who would eventually be politically tied with his own, either as allies or foes. The Game shifted often, but at that point in time his house was friendly with Lee's. Rhion smiled a little now, at how reluctant he had been to accompany Antonio on his "round of ass-kissing". He was an unsophisticated, rough-housing type of boy, the opposite of polished. He despised politics. But he loved his brother deeply, and he couldn't refuse the man's quietly voiced request. Their relationship was such that Antonio had laughed and clapped his shoulder when he complained that All right, he'd go, though he'd rather have every tooth in his head drawn than mingle with a group of snotty vampires! Antonio had been amused, but still gently insisted, damn him. Rhion needed to learn these things for his own good.

He'd been horrified for one thing at the brutality of the boy's arms training. Not so much at the savagery of it---although that had been shocking too. But mostly, that however well Damian fought, which to Rhion's eyes was very well indeed, there was no praise, no encouragement. Only harsh-voiced criticism and punishment for the smallest perceived error. If his trainer had treated him so, Rhion was unsure whether he would have just thrown his weapons to the ground and stalked off, or attacked the man in a fury.

He wasn't too surprised that Damian didn't seem to remember him at all; for one thing, he hadn't come into his looks---which some people were kind enough to say were exceptional---until late in his fifteenth year. He'd been a tow-headed, freckled, rather husky kid when Damian and he first met. He hadn't even noticed himself when his body and face changed so dramatically. Rhion had been honestly puzzled when the servants began blatantly flirting, and the noble women (and men!) who had been tolerantly amused by Carlonday's gawkish brother suddenly were chatting him up and wanting to be friends for some reason!

The first and only time he had hobnobbed with Damian on the other boy's home turf, he had looked nothing like he did now. And as for Damian not recognizing him by his name, well, as a Prince of Leviathan blood Damian had to put up with meeting hundreds of noble-born idiots every week. That he should keep every one of them straight in his mind was not to be expected. Of course not. And Rhion wasn't the least bit hurt that the few hours they'd shared as boys hadn't seemed to impress Damian enough to be kept in memory; that would be pretty foolish of him! Just about as foolish, he supposed, as remembering those hours himself so clearly.

In fact if Damian did remember him, things might be even more awkward between them. Well, he for one would not be mentioning it, even though the temptation was there. It was an unimportant memory, best laid to rest by them both.

Now, Rhion looked down at his sleeping companion with irritation that held a touch of sorrow. He wanted to do the sensible thing, wake the little bastard up and pull him by force into the dry confines of the cleft in the rock. But somehow, he realized that Damian would fight back against all attempts to rescue him from the weather. Silly little bastard!

He didn't mind the sex a bit, Rhion thought sadly. But the minute I showed him affection, he treated me like I was attacking him. Is there a meaning in that? Probably, and damned if I like it one bit. But things are as they are.

And the worst is, I can never tell him how beautiful I found him, all those years ago. How very beautiful I still find him, this snarling creature of cold ivory and warm black velvet. Would I feel so damned protective of him, I wonder, if he weren't frozen in that angelic boy's body for the rest of eternity? Am I so shallow, that I'd desert him if delight in his beauty didn't hold me in thrall? Who knows? It must just be his looks I'm charmed by. Because by God he is no walk in the park to get along with now, that's for sure!

Rhion thought for a moment longer, then sighed and went back to fumble in his pack. He came back bearing a blanket-sized fur, a thin curly weave that had been lightly treated with oil to shed water. Grumbling to himself at his own stupidity, he settled down close to Damian, and managed to arrange the covering over both of their bodies without touching or waking the other boy. Of course their heads were still exposed, and he at least would probably enjoy the delights of a stuffed-up nose for days thanks to this lunacy.

The cold drizzle on his skull was, as he had expected, less than pleasant. And yet for some reason, he found himself capable of drifting off to sleep. Now that he'd foiled the brat's attempt to kill himself with exposure, he felt better.

Not less stupid, more so in fact. An intelligent man would be snuggled in the shelter and to hell with Damian. Still, even with icy water playing a tune on his fat head, he felt better. So much for Rhion the practical, lord of common sense. Shit!

It felt a lot like indulging in too much drink but he knew that wasn't it. For one thing, his brain didn't thrum against his skull like an extra heartbeat and for the second he wasn't crashed out on the floor in self-induced agony swearing to the dark gods that he'd never touch bloodwine again.

Oh, that explained it; he was under some kind of cover? And he was sitting half on grass and half on someone's leg? No, correction he was nestled between someone's parted legs, and his face was lying against a smooth warm chest with a strong set of arms wrapped around his upper frame.

He recognized his scent now that he'd actually thought to look for it. In the past couple of days it had become an extension of De's surroundings. This was probably just another vampire thing.

That part of him had been stirring since the crucifixion, like it felt restless or something. It also seemed somewhat drawn to Rhion. Lucky Rhion, eh? For all the control De had over that part of himself, the guy would be lucky if he didn't end up becoming breakfast some morning.

Rhion had touched his face and he'd cracked under the pressure of those gentle fingers. But damnit, it wasn't like he was used to being touched like that! What was the man thinking for heaven's sake!

Rhion had touched him like some one else had touched him many years ago; someone who'd cared for him. Someone he'd personally betrayed with his prideful silence. Now that man was dead, all thanks to the Dark One of course!

'It's not a problem, because it'll never happen again. Not even if you add me to your 'tally-sheet', you hateful little prick. Go ahead, do it. See what it's like to be completely alone.' He still remembered those words all too clearly

But he was already alone! Even wrapped in Rhion's arms, his snoring softly ruffling his hair, he was very much alone. If for no other reason than the fact that he could never let anyone else in.

Hell he'd came close for a second or two there of accusing Rhion of being the very devil himself but of course it had all been pure foolishness on De's part---obviously Rhion was just dangerously naïve---- and strangely enough still here, even after promising De he'd never allow himself to be hurt by him 'The hateful little prick' again.

He didn't really relish the idea of the other boy waking up. First off he'd probably have to move and this was the most comfortable he'd been in years. And then he'd have to face the music, and he sure as hell couldn't face it with an apology, even if he had been a right bastard the night before.

He tightened his hold on the other boy quite by accident, he hadn't realized his arms were firmly locked around the larger boy's middle until Rhion pulled him closer and nuzzled his face down into his semi damp hair.

'Affectionate when you're asleep aren't you?' De thought this with some amusement figuring that's probably how he ended up in Rhion's lap to begin with. He wondered briefly why he hadn't woken up when the other boy had pulled him into his lap?

He supposed the vampire in him must have been pretty at ease with Rhion to be able to ignore something like that. It didn't matter anyway, as long as he could stay here for a little while longer.

It certainly didn't sound like Rhion was close to waking and when he did De would just fake having been asleep and grumble around like this was no big deal at all---maybe tell Rhion he made a fine pillow, it was the truth after all---he was very comfy.

And attractive---definitely not a bad catch if someone were looking for a lifemate. Not that De himself would EVER consider something like that! Hell no! He was one boy who was never going to let anyone tie him down like that. No matter how damned attractive the bastard was.

Besides he wasn't talking marriage here, just gauging Rhion's attributes, what did that hurt? He hadn't really allowed himself to think about Rhion's looks much before now. Mostly because the other boy had always been awake AND looking at him to boot! He'd started to wonder if he'd grown a tail and horns or something.

Well, he wasn't looking at him now, was he? And as beautiful as those amber colored eyes were, De was glad of it. That intense gaze of Rhion's made it hard for him to think sometimes, more than that, they seemed bizarrely familiar to him.

He wondered briefly where he'd seen eyes like that before, coming quickly to the conclusion there was no answer to be found within him. The slight headache threatening to spill forth from somewhere deep inside his brain assured him of that, it was one of those lost memories he had no hope of touching, thanks to Lee.

He'd probably just seen one of Rhion's relatives who'd passed through his House when he was a child. He was certain there had been many, other than Shining Moon; he just didn't care to remember them.

Without thinking he reached up toward that multi faceted blond hair that spilled onto Rhion's chest now. De was willing to bet money that it was as soft as it appeared. The stuff was pretty chaotic, not only different shades of blond but also various lengths. He got the feeling that Rhion just kind of hacked at the stuff himself when it got in his way. And his bangs were heavy, shaggy, definitely crooked. He'd noticed Rhion tossing them out of his eyes negligently, not seeming in any way impatient about it. On anyone else, the shaggy look would have been ridiculous. On Rhion---he had to admit----no, he wouldn't think 'cute'. That was stupid!

But he did have to admit that blond hair was incredibly pleasing to the touch, and so was Rhion's chest he realized as he allowed his hand to slide over the expanse of bare flesh, his skin felt like silk draped over steel. Damn, talk about perfection.

De would never look like this, like the man Rhion was. He was the eternal child thanks to his premature death. He supposed his looks had their advantages; people had fought wars over creatures such as he, for the purpose of manipulation it rocked, but not every one cared for "boys".

He wondered idly what it was Rhion preferred---if he had left some man or boy behind in this foolish quest of his---or perhaps it had been a woman, maybe even a wife. They hadn't talked about that and Rhion hadn't volunteered that sort of information when he was yammering on before. The man was far too striking to be alone, that was one thing De was absolutely sure of.

He didn't know why that thought should cause him to feel faintly smug. They weren't together as in, well, "together" like lovers or mates or anything. No way! Chance acquaintances more like it. But the young man was a very pleasant pillow, he wouldn't try to deny that. And he smelled far better than most humans, a faint spicy aroma edged with the warmth of his life.

Perfection was marred all too soon. De had achieved a dreamy state of calm as he rested there, as if Rhion's warmth and the sound of his heart were a kind of tranquilizer for him. All his plans still existed, what he had revealed to Rhion and what he had kept hidden remained the same. He felt no guilt for his duplicity. That wasn't so odd; why should he feel guilty? If Rhion knew exactly what De intended he'd only be upset and probably make trouble. De hadn't asked him to come, dammit! The man was the height of stubborn, couldn't chase him away if you tried. Might as well be glad he was there. All right, he'd admit it was nice for once to not be alone in his ventures.

Strangely, though, he felt no urgency to get moving and hurry his plans toward accomplishment. In fact he would have been satisfied to sit there until the dawn warmed into afternoon, listening to Rhion snore, lying placidly against his curiously safe, strong body. This was nothing like his usual self. He acknowledged the fact without worry or caring that he was behaving a little oddly.

A mere split second after De's heart had leapt into his chest from the loud ungodly noise Widowmaker had delivered at much too early an hour in the morning he was sprayed with a rain of chilly sprinkles as the damn beast purposely shook out its mane bathing both he and Rhion in wetness.

But how'd you go about breaking a horse's neck anyway? It hadn't exactly been part of his training and damned if Widowmaker wasn't immortal to boot. So he just settled for yelling and cursing at the damn beast until new words became too difficult to think of.

Then, left with no other recourse and still being pretty annoyed he slapped the animal on the snout and turned around to face Rhion who was staring up at him from his still seated position on the ground.

He started to say something to the other boy in his anger but unfortunately Widowmaker was deeply offended by what he perceived as an unprovoked whack on his nose and used that exact moment to return the smack De had delivered with a stern butt from his large nose.

The force of the damn beast's push nearly threw De back on top of Rhion, who helpfully raised his hands and grabbed De's legs to steady him. Well, if he thought he would be thanked for that he was truly a blond! Especially since his sleepy face was now split in a big approving smile because of the horse's action.

Before the Dark One could think of some swear words to spare him, though, Rhion released him and rose to his feet, yawning hugely. "And what have you done to this poor animal now?" he demanded with a charming grin. He seemed to have forgotten all the unpleasantness between them the night before. Although to De's mind he was trying to start more, with his snippy comments!

Rhion stepped toward the horse, but stopped with a yelp and a less amused expression when the animal snorted and shook its head savagely, wetting him down right in the face with the last of the cold rainwater.

"See? It's not so funny now, is it?" De was so busy being self-righteous he didn't even realize how immature he sounded at that specific moment or that he was actually smiling challengingly up at Rhion who was in turn staring down at him from his greater height advantage.

He wasn't exactly looking pleasant in his irritation, but damn did he look cute in despite of it--- or perhaps because of it? "What, don't like being on the receiving end?" Yes, he felt much better now that Rhion had paid for his little transgression.

De frowned, then looked down at himself as if surmising the benefits of his current state of undress. "I might, who knows it might discourage the demons from putting a blade through my chest."

"That it might," was all Rhion grumbled disapprovingly. "Though it might provoke a blade to your balls when you discourage them later!" The last remark wasn't even heard as De left him standing there with Widowmaker to go in search of his pants. He soon found them lying inside the small nook they'd shared for a brief time the night before. So he grabbed them up and pulled em on before grabbing Rhion's bag to search out a completely dry shirt.

He pulled the garment on, frowned a little as he adjusted it without improvement and headed back outside. That nook had been a kinda tight fit; it was hard to believe they'd actually had enough room to play in there.

Rhion studied him, and the wretch actually smiled a little. Probably because of the picture De made in that silky blue shirt which didn't begin to fit him. He probably looked like a ship in full sail. Of course Rhion was just in pants and a loose shirt that was open to the wind, left his chest more than bare. He was doubtless very comfortable, the inconsiderate bastard!

Rhion smiled slightly at De's irate glare. "Whatever you need me to do for you, I'll do it. Just let me know how to go about it. And stop growling, for the love of the gods! I'll do what you want without it."