Happy Holidays, sarahsan!

[waxbean]

Title: Along for the Ride

gift for: sarahsan

from: tenshinokira

summary: A visit. A promise. The illusion of control. Raven gets more than he bargained for when he agrees to teach the newest Horseman how to ride.

rating: R

Pairing & characters: Famine/Pollution, DEATH

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Disclaimer: I do not own the Horsemen. They belong to the esteemed Messers Gaiman and Pratchett.

Warnings: This little fic contains two parts Horsemen, one part sex in a barn, one part humour and a whole lot of creepiness. I actually wasn’t expecting the last bit quite as much, but there you have it. White is just that unpredictable.

A little bit of explanation: I tried to work in some history like you requested, but for me the Horsemen have always seemed to be a little bit... outside of the normal time realm, if that makes sense. Their language and actions would certainly fit the norm while they’re interacting with humankind, but with each other I think they’d be too familiar and comfortable to care about social convention. So if it seems as though they don’t quite fit the time period, that would be why.

That said, I hope you enjoy this, sarahsan. Merry Christmas!


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Ireland, 1740

Famine fidgeted in his seat and wished, for the umpteenth time, that he had not let Pestilence choose the venue. They decided to meet in Wales after two months of trying to convince each other to visit. Neither of them managed it, so finally they compromised and met somewhere else entirely. The dingy little pub in Ruthin made Famine uncomfortable. All around them people were enjoying their meals; it made something inside him wrench painfully. He couldn’t even content himself with making the bara brith go mouldy. Pestilence, as usual, had chosen the place for its drinks and completely forgotten the menu. Famine was anxious to be out of there but far too polite to say so.

If Pestilence kept raving on like he had been all afternoon, though, he just might let propriety go out the window.

‘Vir, I really think you’re overreacting a little.’

Pestilence cut off his tirade mid-curse and glared. ‘You would think that, Schwartz. You haven’t been training him. He’s being as stubborn as you on a bad day. I am at my wits end!’

Raven bit his lip to hide a smile. Speaking of stubborn Horsemen...

‘What is it you’re trying to teach him?’

‘You cannot be a Horseman without the horse! He needs to be able to ride in order to be one of us, end of story. But he absolutely refuses! I don’t understand the boy at all.’

‘Have you tried asking him why?’ Raven deadpanned. Pestilence gave him a look bordering on lethal.

‘Yes, I have tried. He won’t talk to me either. I mean he will occasionally, but most of the time he only stares at me or gives me one-word answers. It’s irritating as all hell.’

‘That is strange. You would think he’d be more eager to learn. Then again, I know hardly anything about him.’

Pestilence slumped against his chair. He took up his glass and downed the last dregs of his bourbon without a wince. ‘Oddly enough, neither do I. Azrael just showed up out of nowhere a few months ago and told me to find this boy. I’m supposed to teach him the tricks of our trade, so to speak. He’s some kind of backup, you see. I wish Azrael would be more specific about these things. Damn it all.’

‘Perhaps he simply doesn’t want to learn to ride. From what you’ve told me he seems to be the type who needs to be cajoled into doing things he doesn’t want to do,’ Raven replied. He sipped his own drink sedately and eyed a plate of cakes the barmaid had laid out to cool. A small cloud of fruit flies swarmed over them. Raven relaxed and turned back to his companion.

Vir was leering at him. A sense of apprehension washed over Raven. He’d seen that look before. It was usually followed by a ‘request’ that Raven would not enjoy in the slightest. ‘Oh no...’

Pestilence grinned and spread his hands disarmingly. ‘I’ve just had a brilliant idea. Why don’t you train him? You’re just as good as I am when it comes to riding, and Azrael never specifically said it had to be me who taught him that bit.’

Raven sighed. He should have seen this coming. ‘What makes you think he’ll listen to me any more than you?’

‘You just have a way with people, Raven. You can sell them on anything. Come on; don’t leave a friend in the lurch. I have to go to Budapest for a week soon anyway. It’ll be the perfect opportunity.’

‘I’m afraid I couldn’t possibly. I’m tied up in Ireland at the moment.’

‘All the better. You’ve got that place with the stable outside Dublin, haven’t you? That’s a perfect location for it.’

‘No, I really can’t.’

‘Remember Egypt? Seven years, Schwartz. Seven. I gave you the run of the place even though it was prime opportunity.’

‘Hey now, you more than made up for that with the Plague...’

‘One of my better accomplishments, if I do say so myself. But still; I’m even helping you with your current project, the least you can do is return the favour.’

‘...you’re not going to leave me alone until I agree to this, are you?’

‘Why Schwartz, how can you say such a thing to your oldest, dearest colleague?’ The white-haired man actually deigned to pout a little. ‘Besides, you can afford to keep him for awhile. What have you got to lose?’

Raven sighed. He’d never really had a choice to begin with; Pestilence’s persistence was legendary. ‘Alright, alright, though I really don’t know what good it will do. What is he calling himself?’

‘White.’

‘Just White?’

‘Why not? It’s what I started with.’

Raven had to concede that. ‘I’ll be going back to Ireland in the morning. Send him to Dublin before you leave for Budapest. I’ll pick him up there. But you’re taking him back as soon as you’ve returned.’

‘Thanks, Schwartz.’ Pestilence grinned and clapped his old colleague on the shoulder. ‘I owe you one.’

‘Actually, you owe me about five hundred. But you’re welcome.’

--

One of the benefits of being a personified entity was that you didn’t have to take public transport. Raven returned promptly to Ireland the next morning and set about clearing up a few small impediments to his work that had cropped up in his absence. The weather was being awfully agreeable these days; heavy rains and the chill of the last winter had helped his cause along immensely. So pleased with his progress was he that Raven nearly forgot about his promise to Vir - until he arrived in Dublin nearly a fortnight later to check up on the shipping yards.

The docks were not as busy as usual, a sure sign that Raven’s work was progressing nicely. Raven strode among the sailors, nodding politely to one or the other until he came upon his target - a tall schooner just in from England. The gangplank was down and the sailors were unloading crates and boxes onto the dock. Raven went aboard and asked the nearest sailor for the captain.

‘Captain’s in the cabin, sir, he asked not to be disturbed,’ replied the sailor. ‘Anythin’ I can do for yeh?’

‘Cargo inspection, my good man,’ Raven replied. ‘I’m supposed to look over the oatmeal shipment.’ It was his usual cover - he’d thought of it himself as a way of getting close to the food stores, and was even contemplating convincing them to pass laws requiring it. It would make everything so much easier.

The sailor lifted an eyebrow. ‘Eh? Never ‘ad one a’them before. Anyway, there’s no point to that. The oatmeal crates caught fire ‘bout halfway across the Irish Sea. We ‘ad to drop the whole load. Lucky it dinnit burn the ship down.’

Raven blinked, taken aback. He was almost sure he’d had nothing to do with that. ‘Is that right?’

‘Aye sir. Shame, really, bet they coulda used that ‘ere. We was lucky the cabin boy found it, lest we’d ‘ave all been lost at sea.’

Some internal sense lifted the hairs on the back of Raven’s neck. ‘Ah... yes, it’s a shame. Good that you made it here safely, though,’ he said distractedly. ‘Very well then, I’ll not keep you any longer. Good day, sir.’ He turned and went down the gangplank again. A tiny siren was still ringing in his mind, but he shrugged it off. Accidents happened at sea, after all.

‘Did you like the surprise?’

The voice at his elbow was quiet, but so sudden that Raven still jumped. The young man to whom the voice belonged stopped as well and looked up at him from under unkempt bangs. He was dressed in sailor’s clothes that weren’t so much clothing as one big stain with buttons. Raven stared at him for a solid thirty seconds; then his shoulders slumped in recognition.

‘Oh. Right.’

White chuckled softly. ‘Vir suggested it, you know. He’ll be in Budapest already, I think. He thought you might like it.’

Raven’s brow creased a little. ‘Ah...’

‘The oatmeal. I did that. It was easy. I’ve been on ships a lot recently - I rather fancy the excitement of sailing, you see. Are we going?’

Raven fought desperately to keep from floundering in the conversation. ‘Er... do you need to pick anything up?’

‘No.’

‘Then I guess we should be off.’

There was a long pause. White stared at him expectantly. Raven, for his part, was entirely thrown off both by the suddenness of the boy’s arrival and the fact that he had apparently done part of Raven’s job for him. That had never happened before. Pestilence had certainly helped his work along in places, and War created good conditions for him, but they always did it through their own brand of expertise. Raven also could not help noticing that although he seemed to be lacking any sort of pipe, White’s every breath left him in a haze of rich-smelling smoke. Raven shook his head a little to clear it.

‘Come on,’ he said finally and started walking. White trailed after him.

They hired a carriage for the drive back to Raven’s house. White’s breath stopped coming out smoky as soon as they were inside; Raven wasn’t sure if he had just grown tired of it or if he was being polite. The boy didn’t speak at all during the trip. He only stared out the window. Raven took the opportunity to scrutinize him discreetly. The boy bore a remarkable resemblance to Vir, except for the blank look in his pale eyes. Several times Raven opened his mouth to make an attempt at conversation, but the words died before they could leave him.

It was late by the time they arrived. The house was a modest size, not huge, but comfortable and secluded. The previous owner had been all too happy to let Raven have it after he discovered that the land was infertile. Raven paid the carriage driver and led White inside. The interior was sparsely furnished, giving each room a thin, empty look. Raven showed White directly to his room - his guest’s continued silence made him uneasy.

‘I hope it suits you,’ he murmured as White went about examining the space. ‘We’ll start your lesson in the morning. Good night.’ He left without waiting for an answer, not expecting to receive one anyway. He was beginning to think that Pestilence may have just wanted a break from that never-ending stare.

He went downstairs to the study. It was immaculate like the rest of the house, but not as bare. Here a huge wingback chair dominated the room, kept company by several shelves full of books. Raven plucked one and sat down to read, putting White out of his mind entirely. He’d deal with that particular problem in the morning. Right now he had more important things to study; he’d heard of a certain tuber plant that was resistant to cold weather. Pesky things.

The late hour grew into an early one. Raven wasn’t much inclined to sleep; none of their kind was, but he did enjoy a nap now and again. He set his book aside and blew out the lamp; stretched out his long legs and put his feet up on the ottoman. He’d nearly drifted off when the strange sensation of being watched stole over him. Warily he cracked his eyes open just enough to peer out between the lids.

He had never had a heart attack either, but Pestilence had described one to him once. The experience had been wholly unpleasant - much like the feeling he was having now.

White stood in the doorway, silent, unmoving, just looking at Raven with his head tilted slightly to the left. Raven had no idea how long he had been there. He found he didn’t relish the thought. He realised that they were now staring at each other; he had opened his eyes without realising it. White’s expression did not change, nor did he speak. He merely blinked once, as though coming to some conclusion in his mind. Then he left.

Raven didn’t shut his eyes again the rest of the night.

The following morning neither of them mentioned it. White seemed not even to remember going to the den; he was as quiet and indifferent as yesterday. Raven pursed his lips and opted not to get into it with him. He’s only here for a week. No point in agitating him. Instead he wordlessly finished his coffee - black, no sugar - and went to put on his boots. White took the hint and did the same.

They went out. The stables sat about half an acre from the house, at the edge of the forest. The path that led between them was marked with granite. Raven coughed, shot a sideways glance at his companion and decided enough was enough.

‘So why have you refused to learn how to ride a horse?’

White shrugged. ‘I don’t think it is necessary,’ he replied.

‘Why not?’

Another shrug.

Raven’s jaw twitched.

‘Look, if you don’t want to be here then leave. This was only a favour to Vir. I have better things to do anyway.’

White stopped walking abruptly. To Raven’s surprise he looked taken aback for a brief moment. The emotion disappeared quickly, but his next words startled Raven even more.

‘I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be a bother.’

Raven deflated. ‘I... er.’ What was it about this boy that made him lose his composure so easily? ‘It’s alright,’ he finally offered, a little more warmly. ‘I was just curious, but if you don’t want to talk you don’t have to.’

‘Are you actually going to listen?’

Raven lifted an eyebrow. ‘Of course.’

To his further amazement White smiled and seemed to relax. ‘Good. Vir doesn’t listen at all. I tried to tell him I can’t learn this, but he insisted. I don’t like being forced.’

Raven took a deep breath as understanding washed over him. ‘Anyone can learn how to ride, White. It’s not as difficult as it looks.’

The boy jumped onto the low stone wall, walking with perfect balance along its thin edge - a young, green colt himself, needing someone to take him in hand.

‘You’ll see,’ was all he said.

Raven decided not to question him further; they’d reached the stable. Another thought occurred to Raven and he looked at his charge, who was now trying to climb up the trellis on the side of the barn.

‘Please tell me Vir taught you how to summon your mount, at least?’

White rolled his eyes. ‘Yes, I can call her.’

‘Alright. You do that, I’m going to get the saddle. And get down from there, you’ll break something.’

White shot him a sullen glare, but he hopped to the ground. By the time Raven came back he was petting the nose of a pretty little white mare. Raven snorted without thinking. ‘That’s the horse you summoned?’

‘Yes. Her name is Antimony.’

‘Bit small for an immortal creature, isn’t she?’ Raven moved toward the animal’s left side, intending to saddle her. Antimony tossed her head and snapped at him without warning. Raven jerked back out of reach. White snickered.

‘Small, but she has a strong spirit. Give me the saddle.’

Raven had to hand it to Vir - whatever opposition White had shown him, he had managed to teach the boy how to saddle a horse properly. White had the job done in less than three minutes, leaving Raven utterly confused.

‘You did that very well. Are you sure you don’t want to learn this?’

White sighed. ‘I told you there’s no point to it. I’m working on something much bigger, faster and more durable. These creatures are so out of date.’ He wrinkled his nose disdainfully. Antimony nickered and nudged him, and he patted her neck absently. ‘Can we just get this over with?’

I don’t understand the boy at all, Vir had said. Raven could clearly see why. Every other sentence was a contradiction, as though White himself had no idea what he wanted or what he was going to do about it. Deciding that he didn’t have a hope in hell of figuring the boy out, Raven just shrugged his shoulders and led them toward the fenced-in training ring left by the previous owners.

The first lesson went terribly. White’s posture was awful; he slouched too far forward, or too far back, and practically oozed disinterest. Raven corrected him several times, walking alongside the horse with a hand at White’s back or knee. It seemed the more Raven corrected him the worse White did. By the end of the lesson Raven feared that he would have to admit defeat. If the boy couldn’t even grasp the basics he would have to be sent back to Pestilence untutored.

The next day, however, White managed to keep a near-perfect form for the majority of the ride. Raven only had to remind him once or twice to keep his heels down. They even tried a trot toward the end, and Raven almost thought that White enjoyed it. The boy had a very faint flush to his cheeks as they put the horse to pasture. It gave him a nice skin tone for a change, though he still glistened in the late afternoon sun. Raven detected a whiff of something he had never smelled before as they walked back toward the house - a sharp odour that left him feeling a bit heady. Later, when all the world knew of petrol, he would remember the light in White’s grey eyes as he kicked off his boots in the hall and left muddy smears on the pine floor.

On the third day they brought Antimony out, the rains had left the countryside smelling clean and fresh. After White mounted and did a circuit in the ring, Raven motioned for him to stop and went over to them. The boy’s hair clung to his forehead, damp from the morning mist.

‘How do you feel about a trail ride?’ Raven asked.

White shrugged. ‘It would be nice to get out of the ring.’

‘Alright. Wait here.’

He went back to the stable. Within ten minutes he reappeared, trailing a jet-black stallion that White had never seen before. It was a handsome animal, with a fine proud head and sleek lines. The black horse nickered at Antimony; she flicked her ears toward him and then ignored him completely in favour of a patch of grass under the fence. Raven’s lips twitched.

‘White, meet Ebenos.’

Ebenos tossed his head regally and snorted. Raven swung easily onto his back. ‘We’ll take the path through the forest over there. It circles around - about an hour’s ride at a casual pace.’ He gathered the reins in one hand, relaxing into proper form like he had been bred to it - which, in a sense, he had. A smart tap to Ebenos’ sides and the two of them moved off toward the woods. White and Antimony followed in silence.

The forest was quiet in the way that forests usually are - a sort of not-silence, muted sounds of dripping water and the breath of trees. White cocked his head to one side, listening, a faintly put-out expression marring his features. Raven glanced back over his shoulder and noticed the look. ‘What’s wrong?’

White wrinkled his nose. ‘It’s too... clean.’

‘What is?’

The younger entity let go of one rein and gestured widely. ‘All of it.’

Raven glanced back again. ‘Don’t let your reins drop, they’ll get tangled. You mean the forest?’

White rolled his eyes impertinently but adjusted his grip. ‘I mean the whole world. It’s too damn plain. Clean-cut. Boring. I want to do something with it.’

‘What do you have in mind?’ Raven asked, deciding to humour him since this was possibly the most the boy had said since he arrived.

‘I’d drop all the forests, for one. Level them flat and start over. And something needs to be done about the rain. Petroleum would make for much more interesting puddles. All different colours, depending on the light. Or acid. Burn right through the stones. Of course it would all take years, but working on a piece and finishing it are two different things entirely. I don’t think I’d ever want to finish.’

‘You’d kill off the planet if you levelled the forests,’ Raven pointed out blandly.

‘So? It’s going to die anyway. You’ll see. Someday there’ll just be a large boom and a huge cloud. I’m not talking a storm cloud, like last night. This cloud will envelop the world. It’ll be wonderful.’

Had Raven been anyone else, he might have shivered at the boy’s tone. As it was he merely smiled a thin, dry smile. ‘That’s very ambitious of you. Try to leave some for the rest of us, hm?’

Thoughts of the future lit White’s eyes beyond their usual flat grey. ‘Oh, don’t worry. I’ll see that you all get a fair chance. Equal measures; hurt not the oil and the wine and all that. Of course I won’t be working with the same kind of oil, but still...’

Raven’s fingers twitched around the reins. ‘How do you...?’

‘I read it. Of course I read it. I wanted to see how it would all turn out. Kind of funny, isn’t it? I’ll be there instead of Vir, but it’s almost like reading about myself. I rather liked the notion.’

Raven nodded absently before the significance of the words sank in. ‘Wait, what do you mean Vir won’t be there?’

‘Hm?’ White looked at him blankly.

‘What you just said about Vir... what did you mean by that?’

White just stared.

‘..... Nevermind.’ He was almost getting used to the senselessness of this experience. Damnit, Vir, get the hell back to England already and get me out of this mess!

Two miles in Raven decided that the pace had been slow enough, and nudged Ebenos into a trot. He liked the exercise of this particular stride; a fine thing to keep the lower body thin. He glanced idly over his shoulder to see if White had picked up the trot as well. The younger entity was staring at the rhythmic flex of Raven’s thighs against the saddle.

‘White.’

The boy shook himself and kicked Antimony forward. They caught up easily and continued alongside Raven and Ebenos, though White’s eyes kept sliding sideways. Raven sat a little straighter automatically. White will learn best from example, he thought, and tried not to let the steady, unblinking gaze unsettle him.

A few drops of rain spattered on the mossy floor in their wake. The foliage hissed and smoked and curled inward on itself where the rain landed.

They followed the trail along toward the stream. The forest around them had gone deathly silent. Ebenos’ ears pricked forward. White frowned.

‘Do you hear how quiet it has gone?'

'Shush. He's working.'

They stopped to give the horses a breather. Ahead of them, across the stream and almost out of sight, two huntsmen stood over their kill - a buck. The Horsemen regarded them silently, until Raven said, by way of conversation, 'Would be wonderful if they meant to eat it. That one's got hardly any meat on it.'

'SHAME.'

White jumped. On Raven's other side, nearly as tall as them even though they were mounted and he was not, stood Azrael. The cowl turned toward White for a brief moment. 'DIDN'T FIGURE YOU FOR A TEACHER, RAVEN.'

Raven shrugged. 'Vir asked me to. He's in Budapest.'

'AH. ENJOY YOURSELVES.'

And just as suddenly he was gone.

Raven turned Ebenos south. 'Come on, White.' But the other didn't move. Raven glanced back. 'White?'

'Does he always just... appear like that?' White murmured, still staring at the hunters.

'Yes. You get used to it.'

'Can't they see us?'

'Only if you want to be seen.'

White bit his lower lip and nudged Antimony onward. He was silent for a long moment, then:

'Do I have to work to get you to see me?'

Raven lifted an eyebrow and chuckled. 'Not generally. You could probably hide from me if you wanted to, but we can always find each other. Just look at Azrael. I run into him more often than you'd think.'

‘He makes me nervous,’ White confessed.

If Raven was surprised he didn’t let it show. ‘Why? I thought you were supposed to be indifferent?’

‘I am, about the mortals at least. But he’s another matter entirely. It’s like he’s not really one of us.’

‘Well, really he’s not. He is, or was, an angel at one point, I think. He doesn’t usually bring it up.’

‘He’s the one who led me to Vir,’ White said.

‘Yes, Vir mentioned that.’

‘Do you listen to him?’

Raven was also getting used to strange questions. ‘I suppose so. We don’t talk much; Azrael’s usually too busy.’

‘Good.’

The older entity didn’t have a chance to contemplate this new confusion; they’d reached the stable again. Raven sighed. ‘There, that wasn’t so bad. I think you’ll manage.’

He dismounted easily and started loosening the girth. When he looked back up White was staring at him yet again, but this time his eyes held an unexpected note of anxiety.

‘You mean I have to go back soon?’

‘Well, yes. Vir will be expecting you.’

‘I don’t want to go.’

Raven blinked. ‘Why not?’

‘I like it better here with you.’

Raven’s fingers stilled on the harness. ‘Oh come now, you still have a lot to learn from Vir.’

‘He’s out of date too. I’m sick of him.’

Raven paused, surprised at the irritation in White’s tone. He pressed him a little to extrapolate; White ignored him in favour of untacking Antimony. Raven shook off the warning bells going off in his mind and followed suit.

They put the horses to graze and carried the tack into the stable. White actually put the saddle back properly instead of tossing it onto a random hook. He seemed oddly subdued, or lost in his own thoughts. Raven regarded him subtly out of the corner of his eye, wondering at the sudden change in mood. He caught a whiff of something sickly sweet and turned to see if the oats had gone off again. He really had to learn to turn it down in the stable. The horses needed to eat to stay useful.

‘Raven.’

Raven tensed, every muscle drawing taut. White had never spoken his name before. Hearing it from that mellifluous voice did something very strange to his insides - a sort of nervous twist. What had Vir called it? Butterflies? Raven had no idea what insects had to do with it, but he had to admit the comparison made sense. He forced an expression of calm and looked at White.

‘Yes?’

The young man straightened up slowly and came toward him. ‘I’m not going back to Vir.’ He slid right up against Raven, like some viscous substance. ‘I think I like it right here.’

Raven took an instinctive step back, then another. White followed until Raven’s back hit the wall behind him. The boy’s mysterious smile widened just a little as he pressed closer. Raven licked suddenly dry lips, uncomfortably aware of their proximity.

‘What are you doing?’

‘Repaying my debt,’ White murmured invitingly, his hands coming up to caress Raven’s hips. ‘You’ve been kind to me. Let me return the favour.’ When Raven didn’t object he unfastened his waistcoat and slid his hands underneath Raven’s shirt. Raven shivered as the cool touch trailed higher. An utterly incredulous thought crossed his mind and he voiced it before he could stop himself.

‘Did you try this with Vir?’

White bit his lower lip around a smile and shrugged. ‘I told you he didn’t listen very well.’ His fingers found Raven’s nipple and toyed with it. ‘Are you going to listen better than he did?’

Raven caught the wandering hands in his. ‘Wait.’ White paused, head tilted again and an almost innocent expression on his face. Raven swallowed. He felt like he was standing on the edge of a precipice about to plummet into something unknown. He hesitated.

‘...There’s a blanket in the tack box.’

White’s eyes lit up. Between them they got the blanket and spread it over the hay in one corner of the stable. Raven had barely let go of his side before White’s hands found their way back into his clothing. Apparently he had picked up some of Pestilence’s persistence. Raven nearly chuckled aloud at the thought. Suddenly the entire situation seemed less surreal and he relaxed.

‘You really are stubborn, aren’t you?’

White shot him a coy look and pulled away again to tug at his own shirt. Raven reached out to assist him but White batted his hands away. In a minute it became clear why; White’s clothes practically melted off him into a pile on the floor. Raven exhaled slowly. If he had known the boy looked like that underneath all the stains...

As though he could read Raven’s thoughts, White sauntered forward and began to ease Raven’s shirt open the rest of the way. ‘Enjoying the view?’ he murmured. Raven could only nod as White circled him, discarding his waistcoat to the floor. The feel of hot breath against his neck stirred Raven’s blood in ways that he hadn’t felt in a long time. For a moment they were not White’s hands fumbling with the tie of his breeches but another pair of pale, rough-gentle hands. Had it really been so long?

White opened the flap and stepped back, snapping Raven to his senses. ‘Show me,’ he commanded, his voice no more than a whisper.

Seized by an inexplicable urge to comply, Raven shoved his breeches down to his knees. White let out an ecstatic little gasp. Raven smirked and kicked his pants off the rest of the way.

‘Enjoying the view?’ he echoed smugly.

In answer White went to his knees and lovingly took Raven’s length in his hands, pumping it with firm, even strokes. Raven brushed his fingers through White’s bangs; the tenderness of the gesture contrasted sharply by the wicked smirk quirking his lips. Their eyes met, opposite shades of grey turning dark with lust. White leaned forward and abruptly one thing became very clear.

The boy had an utterly filthy mouth.

He sucked lightly at the tip and whispered loving profanities between licks. Raven allowed him to continue, enjoying the contrast between the coolness of the air and the warmth of White’s mouth. Then he fisted one hand in White’s hair and tugged his head back.

‘On your back.’

He let go and White scrambled onto the blanket behind him. Raven followed and snorted at the boy’s eager panting.

‘What’s this? You don’t speak until your mouth is full, is that it? Such terrible manners.’

White laughed; a breathy half-gasp of a thing. ‘You care as little for manners as I do.’

‘On the contrary, I care a great deal for manners. They are useful for gaining entry to certain places,’ Raven replied. He dropped to one knee and crawled over the lithe body. The hay crackled with every motion.

‘Mmm, you’d like that.’

‘You are a wayward little ruffian, aren’t you?’

‘So best me,’ White goaded. He licked his lips and sneered defiantly. ‘Tie me down and teach me a lesson. I promise you have never had anyone like me.’ He reached for Raven’s half-hard length again, but Raven caught his wrist. The entity’s dark eyes were sharp with something that might have been anger and might have been lust. He and White stared each other down for a second before Raven crushed his lips to White’s. It swiftly turned into a battle of wills between them.

‘Do you think I haven’t had other offers like this?’ Raven asked snidely once he pulled away.

‘Not like this. No-one else can do things for you the way I can.’ Rather than being angry, the boy seemed to enjoy their verbal sparring.

‘Don’t flatter yourself. I’ve had better than you.’

‘Are you talking about Vir?’ White shot back. ‘Even he can’t satisfy you like I can.’

Raven felt a surge of annoyance on Vir’s behalf. ‘And what if I were to leave you here unsatisfied, hm?’

He wasn’t sure what made him say it, but the darkly petulant scowl that crossed White’s face told Raven quite plainly that it would be a bad idea. Raven lifted an eyebrow; evidently the boy could take anything but rejection. ‘Hn. Very well.’ He pinned the squirming creature with his knees on either side of the boy’s hips and cast around for something suitable. Finally he took down a spare bridle from the wall, unhooked the reins from the headpiece and neatly bound White’s wrists with the leather cord. The younger entity had gone back to panting wantonly and looked almost gleeful as Raven nudged his arms over his head.

‘Don’t move,’ Raven ordered. He let his fingertips trail down over White’s thin ribcage, taking a moment to admire the svelte form. White of course paid no heed to his command and wriggled his hips enticingly. Raven feigned a disinterested air even as he nudged White’s knees farther apart and settled between them.

‘I have never been inclined to taste anything, you realise,’ he said off-handedly, flicking the tip of White’s erection.

‘There’s a first time for everything, isn’t there?’ The boy’s breathing had become so erratic that he had trouble getting the words out. Raven hovered for a long moment just to watch the anticipation grow to near desperation in White’s eyes. Then he leaned down and took White into his mouth without warning. White tossed his head back against the blanket and moaned exultantly.

Raven had been completely truthful. Taste was not something he was accustomed to. But this... this, he could get used to. It was more than just taste - White filled his senses to the brim. The heat of him, his breathy moans, the scent of his arousal that changed every few seconds; now a heady mixture of laudanum and oil, then a sickly sweet smell that Raven couldn’t identify. Raven worked him slowly to the brink, then pulled away.

Instantly White’s bound hands caught the open sides of his shirt. ‘Finish me,’ he hissed in a voice grown hoarse with need. Raven chuckled. ‘Not so inclined to mouth off now, are you?’ he said, offering two fingers. White took them and sucked without resistance, coating them in a substance far too thick to be saliva.

‘Filthy thing,’ Raven muttered almost fondly as he pushed past the barrier. White groaned, muscles twitching around Raven’s fingers. Raven took in the enraptured expression on the boy’s face and smiled a thin smile.

Then he blinked, and looked again.

‘White.’

The boy managed to focus on his face through the haze of pleasure.

‘My tolerance for your wide range of, ahem, talents notwithstanding, combust anything in here and there will not be a repeat of this.’

White froze; swallowed and visibly forced back his nature. The hay around them stopped smoking.

‘Better.’

Raven withdrew his fingers and positioned himself. White curled his legs around Raven’s thighs and bucked impatiently against him. Raven glanced down for a bare second as he thrust forward and completely missed the gleam in White’s eyes.

And then the world fractured.

Raven abruptly found himself unable to pull away. The body beneath his tightened around him to the point of exquisite pleasure, an almost-pain that left Raven gasping for breath. White writhed, almost literally melting under Raven’s hands. He trapped Raven close within him, claiming him even as Raven claimed White. For a brief moment Raven panicked, but White’s hands framed his face and stroked his beard soothingly. The leather binding White’s wrists had disappeared. Raven sucked in a breath and tried to remember why he had agreed to this, but that heady scent was back and he couldn’t quite focus.

‘Shh,’ White whispered against his lips. ‘You’re good, you’re so good...’ He rocked his hips slowly, sensually, like a liquid. Raven shuddered.

‘What are you doing to me?’ he said thickly. White merely smiled.

‘I told you no-one could satisfy you like I can. Let yourself go. I won’t mind.’

Raven’s eyes turned black as night. Almost before he knew what he was doing he thrust sharply into White; heard him gasp and enjoyed it. He didn’t often enjoy things outside of his work. But here, with White wrapped around him and whispering nothings into his ear, Raven let his guard drop for the first time. He opened himself to White, thrust hard again and again without restraint or inhibition, until he shuddered and groaned and collapsed over White’s body.

White held him, and stroked his hair, and smiled.

Raven had no idea how much time had passed when he came back into himself. He pushed himself up slowly, carefully, and pulled away from White before flopping boneless onto the blanket. His companion rolled onto his side and curled up beside him. Raven took a deep breath of air - now clear - and sighed.

‘Damn.’

White trailed one finger down Raven’s chest. ‘Do you want me to go?’ A hint of that cloying scent still lingered in the air. Raven opened his mouth, closed it again, paused and then spoke.

‘No.’

White’s expression didn’t change, but he shifted closer to Raven and wrapped one arm around his waist. ‘Thank you,’ he murmured with surprising fervour. Raven tried not to shiver again. He wondered briefly how Vir had been able to resist this and decided he didn’t want to know.

‘He’s going out, you know.’

Something unexpectedly cold went down Raven’s spine, though he couldn’t be sure why. It might have been the sudden emotionless tone in the boy’s words, or the fact that he still seemed able to read Raven’s thoughts. ‘Why do you say that?’ he asked, forcing nonchalance to hide his discomfiture.

‘I’m going to take over.’ Abruptly White’s voice was once again full of intensity, almost vicious in its enthusiasm. ‘He may make the body ill, but I’m going to make the whole world sick. Eventually he’ll just... dry up and wither away.’ He let out a horrid little giggle and looked almost sad for a moment. Then his eyes lit up and he laid his head down against Raven’s shoulder. ‘You won’t, though. I’ll make sure of it.’

Raven swallowed, unsure of himself for the first time. ‘Oh?’

‘Yes. Even if you start to dry up too.’

The implication chilled Raven to the bone. ‘That’s... kind of you...’ he said, surprised at the weak chuckle that followed. Surely that wasn’t his voice... the boy couldn’t shake him that badly...

Pollution’s voice whispered insidiously in his ear. ‘Don’t worry. I’ll help you. Together we’ll make history, a thousand books with our names inscribed. We can watch them burn. Keep me by your side and I will lay the world at your feet.’

Raven looked down at the lithe body sprawled next to his; at the grey eyes, once more unconcerned but still smouldering with the aftermath of sex; at the hint of a smug smile lingering about his companion’s lips. Out of nowhere Raven felt the press of time, all of his years and centuries and millennia of existence crashing down on him. For a moment he saw White with chilling clarity - here was the future, wrapped around him with intimate purpose. Beneath that pale glistening exterior lay both promise and destruction. He was being offered a choice, Raven realised. The boy was clearly preparing himself for infamy - whether he swept Raven up in it or not was left to Raven’s hands. It was like looking down a tube. Somewhere, perhaps in the distant future, perhaps not, their time would come with a bang and a scream. But it would only be their time if White allowed it.

‘This cloud will envelop the world. It’ll be wonderful,’ White had said.

He hadn’t specified whether the cloud would envelop Raven as well. Raven didn’t want to leave it to chance. He felt oddly lucky, in the way that people do when some terrible misfortune has passed them by.

‘I’ll have to think about it,’ he said hoarsely. Put him off, some part of him screamed, but the rest of him knew it wouldn’t work; knew he was trapped, knew what his answer was before he gave it. And he knew that White knew it too.

White leaned up and kissed him, wet and acrid, on the lips. ‘Don’t wait too long,’ he murmured.

‘I won’t.’

He fell asleep soon after, lulled by the heavy scent in the air. By the time he awoke again, White had disappeared.

In the following months, and years, and decades, Raven followed his young associate’s progress very closely. He saw the world surge and roil and change under White’s hands. He watched the steam engines roll into the stations at King’s Cross and Liverpool, and remembered White’s disdain for horses. Pipes were discarded in favour of cigarettes, and Raven remembered the smokiness of White’s breath in the crisp air. He saw the very face of the planet being altered in White’s own image.

He saw Pestilence, his oldest colleague and the closest thing he had ever had to a friend, fall before the onset of discovery. Raven had never told him about the conversation in the barn; never warned him against the future. White had changed something in the humans - for the first time the influence went both ways. A relic of the days when humankind could be controlled by a well-placed infection, Pestilence could not stand against the mortals now that they had power over their own lives. Raven watched him retreat with a guilty sort of sympathy, but he was powerless to stop the changes. White’s revolution succeeded.

But against all of Raven’s expectations, Pollution remained true to his word. The advent of consumerism did for Raven’s work what Raven had never been able to do himself. People wasted resources - including food - with a speed and indifference the likes of which Raven had never seen before. They created the conditions he needed to work with him hardly having to encourage it. He knew it was White’s doing; that he was only still active, only a step above what poor Pestilence had been reduced to, because White allowed it. Just as he allowed Raven the illusion of dominance every time they came together, but Raven knew the truth. It hurt in a strange way - an ache in his chest, a tension that never seemed to leave him, but was never stronger than a mere twinge in the back of his mind. It wasn’t right. It wasn’t what Raven had chosen. Except it was.

And after Chernobyl, and again at Hiroshima, and every time he received an indulgent, sour kiss, Raven would remember the look of triumph in White’s eyes.