Knives Don't Have Your Back: Chapter IX
Assassin's Creed: Brotherhood
Rated: NC17 (NC17 overall)
Word Count: 4,325 / 90,339
Knives Don't Have Your Back
NOTICE: Fanart now exists for this story! Please click here to see SilvesterVitale's beautiful depiction of the masquerade scene from Chapter VI.
† IX †
Teodor watched the last slip of sun disappear behind the mountains, turning the sky gray and the snowy caps of the Alps a bright blue. All around him stretched the beauty of the Torino countryside, the trees and bushes tall and lush, carpeting the uneven ground on which they grew. The Po River cut a wide path between the land, blackened by the coming night. From Teodor’s viewpoint the river seemed to bleed into everything, pushing the trees and earth further from him and turning the mountains into shadows. Although the river was calm enough, the sound of the steady current sung out across the surface of the water, filling Teodor’s senses. His bare feet dangled off the dock on which he sat. He enjoyed the feeling of water swirling against his ankles, gentle and cold. As the day gave way to night, occasionally he would raise a numbing foot and check to make sure it still existed, then lower it, fascinated, watching as it disappeared into the dark.
The crickets began to sing. Teodor shivered at the chill coming off the water and waited. He leaned back, the cool wood underneath his fingers holding him steady, and craned his neck to watch the stars come out. This was his ritual, his reward for coming to Torino. In France they had not had stars like this, he was sure of it. When night truly came and the stars arrived, they shimmered across the surface of the river, the sky becoming endless before him. The trees and faraway mountains became little more than patches of blackness between the brightness at his feet and above his head.
“Mon frère, dans l'amour avec les étoiles et la lune,” his sister would always say, coming to sit with him when the waiting was over and the stars had finally arrived. Teodor would wait until she sat down, long legs dipping into the water to brush against his, arms pulling him as close to her lap as she dared. He was ten years old now, she nearly fifteen, and he had decided he was not a child any longer.
“In amore con le stelle e la luna,” Teodor would correct her, as he always did, and she would playfully bite his ear. She had been jealous of how easily he had taken to Italian, annoyed her age hadn’t been an advantage. In truth Teodor had struggled to learn, but after realizing all of the books in the library were written in the language he had doubled his efforts.
Together they sat, Teodor growing sleepier by the minute, head pillowed against his sister’s chest. Nanette hummed in time with the waves and occasionally recounted the events of the day. After awhile she grew quiet. The night went blacker still and the stars grew whiter in contrast. Sometimes, as his mind softened with fatigue, he could see the soft reds and yellows that hid behind some of the stars, an echo of something more, and he loved the wonder that filled him.
Mist began to gather on the surface of the water, dimming the world around them. Teodor could feel the stiffness creeping into his bones. He sat up and shook himself and Nanette moved to kneel at the edge of the dock. She braced herself with one hand while the other reached out to the water. When he was younger she had convinced him he could pluck the stars from the water if only he was fast enough. Teodor had spent an entire night splashing himself silly and gained only a cough for his troubles.
“I’m not falling for that again,” he warned her, sounding whinier than he would have liked. Nanette ignored him, staring at the water intently.
“What do you think it is?” she whispered, sounding far away. She scooped at the surface of the water.
Reluctantly Teodor bent forward, trying to see what she was after. Occasionally feathers or pieces of driftwood floated upon the shore that were worth examining. Nanette’s movements sent ripples along the surface, stars shattering in the wake of her discovery. Beneath her palm Teodor could make out something pale in the water, just under the surface. Teodor squinted, trying to see, when suddenly something slithered across his foot in the river.
With a cry Teodor ripped his feet from the water, sending him sprawling on the dock. He grabbed at his feet and counted his toes, picking off a small bit of stringy plant that had attached itself to his ankle. As he held it up to the moonlight dread built heavy and low inside him. It was hair in his hand, long and brown.
Horrified, he looked to Nanette, wanting to scream for her to leave it alone, but it was too late. She was examining her hand and Teodor could see the ribbon of dark hair across her knuckles. He dropped to his knees beside her.
“Nanette, don’t-”
Nanette gave him a smile and pulled up her hand. The hair that was wrapped around her knuckles came with it, and with that something worse. Teodor froze as the body breached the surface of the water, the head and shoulders pulled free. It was a girl, maybe younger than Nanette, thirteen or so. Her dark hair was tangled and long, obscuring her face, but he knew her. The skin was waxy, the eyes glazed, and he could see the mark the poker had left upon her skinny shoulder. She was the girl from this morning. The girl from the inn-Julianna.
“This is a dream,” he said, gagging. “A nightmare.”
The blue lips of the girl-Julianna-smiled at him. Why else would you be here?
Nanette started laughing. She gave the girl’s soggy head a shake, ignoring how chunks of hair came loose. Julianna’s gruesome smile stayed as it was. Her eyes, irises turned white, had turned swollen from the river. Teodor watched in horror as one popped out of a socket. Nanette caught it in her other hand before it even hit the water.
Here, Teddy, she said, delighted. The stars turned dull as his sister held out her hand, the milky eye inches from his own, the entire world growing dim. I finally caught one.
† † †
Teodor woke up gasping. Disoriented, he reached for a weapon that was not there, his hands stretching out into blackness. Unfamiliar sheets clung to his sweaty shoulders and he twitched against the mattress as he choked on the cool night air.
It took only a moment to regain his breath and calm his wandering, empty hands, but the residual panic still echoed through his body. Licking his lips he concentrated on the darkness around him, letting the room come into focus and the last of the river slip away. A stout candle flickered in the corner, the flame casting a reddish glow that made each silhouette seem outlined in blood. Blood, Teodor considered, wondering at the thought, then realized-the air was thick with it.
Teodor caught sight of blond hair, rusty in the candlelight. Malfatto sat at the edge of the bed with his back to him. Teodor heard the unmistakable thump thump of boots dropping on the floor and watched as Malfatto grasped the back of his shirt and brought it up over his head, shoulders bared. It couldn’t be right, Teodor thought, remembering how he had fallen asleep with Malfatto hours earlier. They had fallen against the mattress in a frantic mess of limbs and teeth, still half-clothed in their impatience. The waiting had taken its toll and it took only the smallest touch and most violent friction to leave Teodor spent inside his own breeches, Malfatto panting and equally undone beside him.
The smell of blood was overwhelming, blocking out the memory. Teodor propped himself up on his elbows and let his eyes scour the long expanse of Malfatto’s skin. Unblemished. Then what-
“A nightmare?” Malfatto asked, twisting his neck to gaze at Teodor. He looked more wearied than Teodor remembered.
Teodor thought about denying it, but nodded. Malfatto stood to remove his pants and Teodor’s eyes swept over his naked frame before he bent and blew out the candle. Blinking at the sudden darkness, Teodor felt the bed dip under the other man’s weight and wondered at the coppery taste in his mouth.
An unseen hand slid over Teodor’s chest, pushing him back into the sheets. Malfatto smelled of his leather coat and sharp herbs and his body was cool against Teodor’s flushed skin. The hand wound up Teodor’s throat to cup his jaw, the thumb ghosting his bottom lip.
“You bit your tongue,” Malfatto whispered, a shadow in the darkness. Teodor swallowed and ran his tongue along his teeth and wondered why it didn’t feel swollen. The smell of blood was too strong to be a simple cut.
Short hair tickled Teodor’s cheek and he felt lips brush against his own. He raised his hand and found the back of Malfatto’s neck, turning the touch into a kiss. Malfatto’s tongue slid against his own and if the doctor disliked the taste of blood he made no mention. Teodor moaned as Malfatto lazily licked across his lips and teeth, mellowing with every second.
“Go to sleep,” Malfatto said when he finally pulled away, leaving Teodor to gaze up into the black. He did as he was told, feeling Malfatto settle beside him, and slept dreamless until morning. When he woke for the second time Teodor slipped silently from the sheets and dressed himself in his souring clothes, leaving Malfatto to sleep in.
In the light of day, the room was a much different animal. In his lust-filled craze the day before he hadn’t truly examined anything aside from the bed. Malfatto’s private quarters spanned the entire second story of his shop, accessible only through a stairway in the pantry that was kept locked at all times. The room was dominated, surprisingly, by Malfatto’s bed which was large even by Teodor’s standards, and he had been raised in aristocratic comfort. The headboard was exquisite, made of a dark, polished lumber and embellished with a set of four inlaid rectangles that framed an intricate carved pattern resembling stained glass. Flanked by tall rectangular columns it sat upon a large red tapestry at the far side of the room, piled high with cream-colored pillows and a matching quilt.
Behind the bed hung heavy curtains the color of chocolate, covering what Teodor assumed was a large window. To the side stood a small table that held a couple of candles and quite a few books with even more piled haphazardly on the floor. Next to the magnificent bed, the rest of the room was rather spartan. On the wall opposite the bed, by the stairwell, sat a furnace and three rows of shelves that housed some rather scrappy looking books and scrolls. By the door there was yet another desk, this one much simpler than the roller desk downstairs. In the middle of the room was a small round table with two chairs, and on the far wall stood a tall wardrobe and a stand for the wash basin.
The room was clearly Malfatto’s retreat from the world. Curiosity piqued, Teodor explored the shelves that lined the walls, finding literature amongst the medical texts. He opened the wardrobe and inspected the neat rows of tunics, most of them boring save the doctor’s uniform that was sectioned off from the other garments. He was surprised to see Malfatto owned different coats and assumed them to be spares, but on further investigation realized they weren’t nearly as well padded or well made as the leather outfit he had become familiar with. Even the extra masks were different, the beaks much longer and lacking the dark spectacles that hid Malfatto’s eyes. With some frustration at his own stupidity, Teodor realized that the clothes Malfatto usually wore were more like armor than any uniform. He began to understand that these outfits, thin and dusty from lack of use, only served as memories.
Teodor’s spying was cut short by a loud rumbling of his stomach. He hadn’t eaten since his return to Roma and suddenly his hunger was sharp and overwhelming. He made his way over to the furnace in the corner, the fire inside still burning low and hot. Malfatto kept a full pantry downstairs, but there were a few breakfast items nearby-coffee, a few overripe pears and some oats for porridge. Teodor helped himself, trying his best to stay quiet.
As the coffee began to boil and the porridge thickened, Malfatto slept on. Teodor settled at the table with his breakfast and spent his time studying him. He marveled at how such a reclusive, cautious man could sleep so soundly while having a stranger in his home. In some ways he had come to think of Malfatto as almost inhuman, never sleeping or eating, his face always hidden. To see his long, skinny frame curled under the sheets only added to the fragmented understanding Teodor had of him.
Taking his coffee in hand, Teodor approached the desk. Candles were piled along the edges, white wax creeping along the side where it had dripped and dried. A few journals were on the desk, one possibly a ledger, and beside those lay Malfatto’s mask. Without even realizing what exactly he was doing until he had it by the beak, Teodor raised it to his face. Immediately the room dimmed, the black glasses making it difficult to see and Teodor understood at once Malfatto’s fondness for windows and candles. How he managed to get anywhere at night was a mystery.
Teodor felt smothered. The few slits in the beak didn’t let in enough air at all and even with the mask untied Teodor felt his face grow hot. Each breath he took sounded like thunder and reverberated inside his skull. Quickly overwhelmed, he pulled the mask off and stared at it, shocked at how it could cause such suffering. He couldn’t imagine wearing it for more than a few minutes, let alone almost all the hours of the day. He glanced over to Malfatto in the bed and held back a wince when he met a pair of curious blue eyes.
Caught, he lowered the mask gingerly onto the desktop and gave Malfatto a sheepish smile. Malfatto’s eyes widened at the expression, intrigued, but he said nothing.
“How do you stand it?” Teodor asked, more to himself than the doctor.
Malfatto looked confused for a moment as he rose from the bed, bending to pick up his pants and slide them on. “I don’t understand,” he said after awhile, sounding cautious.
“There’s food,” Teodor said, voice soft as he considered the mask. Malfatto blinked at the comment, then resumed his usual silent staring. Teodor gestured to the stove. Malfatto’s entire body turned in that direction as if pulled by invisible string. As Malfatto helped himself to coffee and a bowl of porridge, Teodor ran a hand over the journals on top of the desk, recognizing one as the journal he had “borrowed” over the months.
Malfatto sat down and watched Teodor explore with a blank expression on his face, making no move to stop him. The desk had only a single top drawer, unlocked, and Teodor slowly pulled it open, watching Malfatto’s face as he did so. The doctor sipped his coffee, his own eyes never leaving Teodor.
Inside the drawer were letters, each bearing a seal Teodor knew well, and he hastily averted his eyes. His hand groped inside the drawer, skimming over a few quills before closing around a smooth rectangle. Curious, he pulled it out, holding it up to the light. The rectangle was made of simple glass, the corners slightly worn so as not to cut. Encased inside was the small black and white butterfly Teodor had brought back from Senigallia.
Teodor’s eyes flicked to Malfatto, feeling the back of his neck heat. The doctor was standing now, setting his cup on the table. He walked over to Teodor and took the butterfly from him with careful fingers. Gently he placed it back in the drawer and closed it. Malfatto’s blue eyes regarded Teodor curiously but he said nothing. Instead he slid a hand around the back of Teodor’s neck, bringing him in for a deep kiss. Teodor hummed as his head was pushed back, Malfatto’s other hand coming to cup his jaw. For all that Malfatto left unsaid, he certainly made up for it with those wonderful hands. Teodor couldn’t keep his own from wandering, sliding to cup sharp, naked hipbones. Malfatto pulled away once and Teodor blinked stupidly with affection, then kissed him again, this time with a bit more fervor.
“I get to do this whenever I want, don’t I?” Malfatto murmured when they finally broke apart. He sounded like he’d just discovered something important.
“Yes,” Teodor replied, not bothering to add the qualifying in private. Malfatto was odd, not stupid. And then he thought of Malfatto in his full doctor’s uniform, gloved and hidden in a back alley, snatching him by surprise. The thought made his cock twitch and Teodor looked down at the mask on the table.
Malfatto followed his gaze. He picked up the mask with both hands, looking at it and then to Teodor.
“You want me to wear it, don’t you,” Malfatto said, voice pitched much lower than it was a minute ago. Teodor felt himself flush from the chest up. Malfatto shifted the mask from one hand to another, then began to raise it to his face
“Wait,” Teodor said, remembering how awful it had felt upon his skin.
“It feels safe,” Malfatto said, voice barely above a whisper. He slipped the mask on, blue eyes disappearing behind the cold, black glasses. Every facial cue Teodor had been gorging himself on the past day and a half was taken away. Once again, Malfatto became something foreign, something dangerous, even without a shirt.
“Mon Dieu,” Teodor breathed. He felt like he was burning alive, knowing what now lived underneath that sharp beak. Aching, he leaned in to kiss Malfatto and belatedly realized he couldn’t. Dismayed, delighted, he wasn’t sure, but the end result was him sinking his teeth into Malfatto’s collarbone. Malfatto hissed at the bite, pulling Teodor off him with strong arms.
“Say more,” Malfatto said, voice muffled inside the mask. Teodor’s fingers scrabbled at the bare skin before him. “In French, I want to hear it.”
“What would I say?” Teodor mumbled, distracted. Malfatto took him by the arms, pushing back towards his bed. Teodor complied, Malfatto releasing him only long enough to let him wriggle out of his shirt before the back of his knees hit the bed.
“What is the word for ‘doctor?’” Malfatto asked, pushing Teodor to sit on the bed before him.
“Médecin,” Teodor answered, leaning forward to kiss and lick at Malfatto’s stomach.
Malfatto groaned. “Say ‘please.’”
“S'il vous plaît,” Teodor said, getting the idea. “Médecin, s'il vous plaît.” He leaned back just enough to get to work on his breeches, eyelashes fluttering as the fabric pulled against his erection.
Malfatto did nothing about his own pants, only descended upon Teodor like a fury. He pushed Teodor further up the bed, hair golden and beak gleaming as he crawled on top of him. Wrapping long fingers around Teodor’s wrists he pulled them above his head, making Teodor arch almost uncomfortably. Teodor struggled just enough for show before letting himself relax. He stared wide-eyed at the mask, wondering at how something so frightening could make him so crazy.
With his free hand, Malfatto pinched a lock of Teodor’s hair, studying it. The mask tipped down at him, expectant, and Teodor remembered.
“Cheveux,” he said, grinding up with his hips. Malfatto gave his wrists a brutal squeeze and Teodor cried out as his bones ground together. He smiled at Malfatto.
The doctor traced his finger around Teodor’s ear. “L'oreille.”
Over his eyes, his nose, his lips. “Yeux. Nez. Lèvres.”
Teodor nipped at the passing fingertip. “Dents,” he said. “Pour mordre,” he added, and rejoiced in how Malfatto’s hips twitched against his.
Malfatto sat up, releasing his harsh grip on Teodor’s right wrist and lifting the left to his face. Gently he ran the back of Teodor’s hand over the cool ceramic, knuckles brushing over the black glasses. He let Teodor’s fingers stroke the underside of the sharp beak until Teodor was shaking with need.
“You say things when you dream. Beautiful things I don’t understand,” Malfatto confessed, voice thin and husky. Teodor startled at the words, unwilling to bring his dreams into his waking hours.
“Je veux que tu me baises,” he said, voice no longer playful. It was low, dangerous, and Malfatto stilled.
“What does that mean?”
“I want you to fuck me,” Teodor growled, keeping his accent thick. He reached for Malfatto’s crotch with his free hand. “Now.”
Malfatto’s entire body tensed as if he’d been slapped. He dropped Teodor’s wrist and curled in on himself, enveloping Teodor in leather-scented skin. Braced on his elbows, the tip of his beak was inches from Teodor’s eye.
“Say it again,” Malfatto rumbled.
“I want you to fuck me,” Teodor breathed, watching the mask that threatened to blind him.
“Say it right. Say please,” Malfatto demanded. Teodor felt a hand slide between them, the sharp pain of a fingernail threading across the slit of his already throbbing cock. He choked, terrified of what Malfatto was capable of.
“Je veux que tu me baises. S'il vous plaît,” he answered in a rush, chest beginning to heave.
Malfatto, the mask, either one was relentless. “And what do you call me?”
“Médecin,” Teodor gasped, willing to say anything. “Je veux que tu me baises. S'il vous plaît, médecin.”
The groan that came from Malfatto was nearly inhuman. In a flash of violent motion Malfatto rose to his knees, one hand pushing his pants down just far enough to get his cock out, the other shoving his mask high up on his forehead. His blue eyes were nearly as dark as his glasses and Teodor whimpered with relief as Malfatto finally sought to silence him with a harsh kiss.
The sex that followed was equally as rough, Teodor flipped and flattened on his stomach and fucked hard enough to make him snap and claw at the sheets. At some point Malfatto ripped off his mask entirely so he could nip at Teodor’s ears, feverishly whispering “Say it, say it,” as Teodor continued to mumble in his native tongue, not even aware of whatever it was he was saying most of the time. Teodor was too busy listening to the whine in Malfatto’s voice, how he went breathless as he came, seeming almost shocked. He recovered well enough to bring Teodor off with oil-slicked fingers, his eyes the size of saucers as he paid such close attention to every twitch and gasp Teodor thought Malfatto sought to undo him completely.
Afterwards Malfatto left the bed only long enough to rid himself of the pants that were still tangled about his ankles. Teodor watched him, lazy in his satisfaction. When Malfatto crawled back under the sheets he didn’t seem to know exactly how to lay down again and spent a few awkward moments trying to arrange his body before Teodor simply reached out pulled him in tight, tucking Malfatto’s sweaty head underneath his chin. Malfatto, too exhausted to resist, sprawled gratefully across Teodor’s chest, boneless and tacky with sweat and semen. They lay quietly together, recovering. Teodor felt relaxed for the first time in weeks and judging by the deep, rhythmic sound of Malfatto’s breathing the doctor was nearly asleep.
Eventually, Teodor was the one to break the moment. He was long overdue in reporting to Castel Sant’Angelo and had an ominous sense that Cesare probably wanted to speak to him. As he slipped from the bed and began piecing together his clothes Malfatto sat up, looking groggy but sated. Teodor took in the dark circles under his eyes and remembered the hour when Malfatto had slipped into bed, smelling of blood. Teodor blanched at the memory then pushed it aside in favor of holding onto his contentment, fleeting as it may be.
He retrieved Malfatto’s coffee and brought it to him, sitting on the bed so he could lace up his boots. Malfatto took the mug without comment, then tipped forward to steal a few more lazy, definitely sloppy kisses. It seemed oddly affectionate, Teodor thought absently. Tying a final knot in his boot strings he stood up, smoothing his clothes as best he could with his hands.
“I have to report in,” he explained, perhaps needlessly. Malfatto stared at him without expression. As usual. Teodor ran a hand through his hair, trying to coax it into submission. “You should sleep,” he tried again, reaching out to run his thumb over one elegant cheekbone.
Malfatto said nothing. Teodor hated how effective that was.
“I’ll be back later, when I can,” he said helplessly.
Malfatto brightened slightly. “Your bag is downstairs with your uniform. I had them sent here.”
“You had them sent here?” Teodor said, surprised. Then it occurred to him. “Well,” he said, smiling wickedly, “you were quite confident, weren’t you.”
Three extraordinary things happened after that. There was a pause before Malfatto responded, and Teodor watched a slow blush spread across Malfatto’s fair complexion. That was the first. He made a note to make it his personal mission to have Malfatto do that more often.
“I-” Malfatto said, then stopped. The second thing came in the form of a slightly impish smile that nearly made Teodor’s heart stop. “Yes. Yes I was.”
And then Malfatto laughed.
† † †
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author's notes | warnings
Editor's Note: The only French I know is spoken by French-Canadian hockey players with no teeth so it is not very clear what they are saying. Google translates, but sometimes not very well.
Author's Note: If anyone fluent in French is reading this and notices some mistakes, please let me know so I can change it. Thanks!
Rated: NC17 (NC17 overall)
Word Count: 4,325 / 90,339
Knives Don't Have Your Back
NOTICE: Fanart now exists for this story! Please click here to see SilvesterVitale's beautiful depiction of the masquerade scene from Chapter VI.
† IX †
Teodor watched the last slip of sun disappear behind the mountains, turning the sky gray and the snowy caps of the Alps a bright blue. All around him stretched the beauty of the Torino countryside, the trees and bushes tall and lush, carpeting the uneven ground on which they grew. The Po River cut a wide path between the land, blackened by the coming night. From Teodor’s viewpoint the river seemed to bleed into everything, pushing the trees and earth further from him and turning the mountains into shadows. Although the river was calm enough, the sound of the steady current sung out across the surface of the water, filling Teodor’s senses. His bare feet dangled off the dock on which he sat. He enjoyed the feeling of water swirling against his ankles, gentle and cold. As the day gave way to night, occasionally he would raise a numbing foot and check to make sure it still existed, then lower it, fascinated, watching as it disappeared into the dark.
The crickets began to sing. Teodor shivered at the chill coming off the water and waited. He leaned back, the cool wood underneath his fingers holding him steady, and craned his neck to watch the stars come out. This was his ritual, his reward for coming to Torino. In France they had not had stars like this, he was sure of it. When night truly came and the stars arrived, they shimmered across the surface of the river, the sky becoming endless before him. The trees and faraway mountains became little more than patches of blackness between the brightness at his feet and above his head.
“Mon frère, dans l'amour avec les étoiles et la lune,” his sister would always say, coming to sit with him when the waiting was over and the stars had finally arrived. Teodor would wait until she sat down, long legs dipping into the water to brush against his, arms pulling him as close to her lap as she dared. He was ten years old now, she nearly fifteen, and he had decided he was not a child any longer.
“In amore con le stelle e la luna,” Teodor would correct her, as he always did, and she would playfully bite his ear. She had been jealous of how easily he had taken to Italian, annoyed her age hadn’t been an advantage. In truth Teodor had struggled to learn, but after realizing all of the books in the library were written in the language he had doubled his efforts.
Together they sat, Teodor growing sleepier by the minute, head pillowed against his sister’s chest. Nanette hummed in time with the waves and occasionally recounted the events of the day. After awhile she grew quiet. The night went blacker still and the stars grew whiter in contrast. Sometimes, as his mind softened with fatigue, he could see the soft reds and yellows that hid behind some of the stars, an echo of something more, and he loved the wonder that filled him.
Mist began to gather on the surface of the water, dimming the world around them. Teodor could feel the stiffness creeping into his bones. He sat up and shook himself and Nanette moved to kneel at the edge of the dock. She braced herself with one hand while the other reached out to the water. When he was younger she had convinced him he could pluck the stars from the water if only he was fast enough. Teodor had spent an entire night splashing himself silly and gained only a cough for his troubles.
“I’m not falling for that again,” he warned her, sounding whinier than he would have liked. Nanette ignored him, staring at the water intently.
“What do you think it is?” she whispered, sounding far away. She scooped at the surface of the water.
Reluctantly Teodor bent forward, trying to see what she was after. Occasionally feathers or pieces of driftwood floated upon the shore that were worth examining. Nanette’s movements sent ripples along the surface, stars shattering in the wake of her discovery. Beneath her palm Teodor could make out something pale in the water, just under the surface. Teodor squinted, trying to see, when suddenly something slithered across his foot in the river.
With a cry Teodor ripped his feet from the water, sending him sprawling on the dock. He grabbed at his feet and counted his toes, picking off a small bit of stringy plant that had attached itself to his ankle. As he held it up to the moonlight dread built heavy and low inside him. It was hair in his hand, long and brown.
Horrified, he looked to Nanette, wanting to scream for her to leave it alone, but it was too late. She was examining her hand and Teodor could see the ribbon of dark hair across her knuckles. He dropped to his knees beside her.
“Nanette, don’t-”
Nanette gave him a smile and pulled up her hand. The hair that was wrapped around her knuckles came with it, and with that something worse. Teodor froze as the body breached the surface of the water, the head and shoulders pulled free. It was a girl, maybe younger than Nanette, thirteen or so. Her dark hair was tangled and long, obscuring her face, but he knew her. The skin was waxy, the eyes glazed, and he could see the mark the poker had left upon her skinny shoulder. She was the girl from this morning. The girl from the inn-Julianna.
“This is a dream,” he said, gagging. “A nightmare.”
The blue lips of the girl-Julianna-smiled at him. Why else would you be here?
Nanette started laughing. She gave the girl’s soggy head a shake, ignoring how chunks of hair came loose. Julianna’s gruesome smile stayed as it was. Her eyes, irises turned white, had turned swollen from the river. Teodor watched in horror as one popped out of a socket. Nanette caught it in her other hand before it even hit the water.
Here, Teddy, she said, delighted. The stars turned dull as his sister held out her hand, the milky eye inches from his own, the entire world growing dim. I finally caught one.
† † †
Teodor woke up gasping. Disoriented, he reached for a weapon that was not there, his hands stretching out into blackness. Unfamiliar sheets clung to his sweaty shoulders and he twitched against the mattress as he choked on the cool night air.
It took only a moment to regain his breath and calm his wandering, empty hands, but the residual panic still echoed through his body. Licking his lips he concentrated on the darkness around him, letting the room come into focus and the last of the river slip away. A stout candle flickered in the corner, the flame casting a reddish glow that made each silhouette seem outlined in blood. Blood, Teodor considered, wondering at the thought, then realized-the air was thick with it.
Teodor caught sight of blond hair, rusty in the candlelight. Malfatto sat at the edge of the bed with his back to him. Teodor heard the unmistakable thump thump of boots dropping on the floor and watched as Malfatto grasped the back of his shirt and brought it up over his head, shoulders bared. It couldn’t be right, Teodor thought, remembering how he had fallen asleep with Malfatto hours earlier. They had fallen against the mattress in a frantic mess of limbs and teeth, still half-clothed in their impatience. The waiting had taken its toll and it took only the smallest touch and most violent friction to leave Teodor spent inside his own breeches, Malfatto panting and equally undone beside him.
The smell of blood was overwhelming, blocking out the memory. Teodor propped himself up on his elbows and let his eyes scour the long expanse of Malfatto’s skin. Unblemished. Then what-
“A nightmare?” Malfatto asked, twisting his neck to gaze at Teodor. He looked more wearied than Teodor remembered.
Teodor thought about denying it, but nodded. Malfatto stood to remove his pants and Teodor’s eyes swept over his naked frame before he bent and blew out the candle. Blinking at the sudden darkness, Teodor felt the bed dip under the other man’s weight and wondered at the coppery taste in his mouth.
An unseen hand slid over Teodor’s chest, pushing him back into the sheets. Malfatto smelled of his leather coat and sharp herbs and his body was cool against Teodor’s flushed skin. The hand wound up Teodor’s throat to cup his jaw, the thumb ghosting his bottom lip.
“You bit your tongue,” Malfatto whispered, a shadow in the darkness. Teodor swallowed and ran his tongue along his teeth and wondered why it didn’t feel swollen. The smell of blood was too strong to be a simple cut.
Short hair tickled Teodor’s cheek and he felt lips brush against his own. He raised his hand and found the back of Malfatto’s neck, turning the touch into a kiss. Malfatto’s tongue slid against his own and if the doctor disliked the taste of blood he made no mention. Teodor moaned as Malfatto lazily licked across his lips and teeth, mellowing with every second.
“Go to sleep,” Malfatto said when he finally pulled away, leaving Teodor to gaze up into the black. He did as he was told, feeling Malfatto settle beside him, and slept dreamless until morning. When he woke for the second time Teodor slipped silently from the sheets and dressed himself in his souring clothes, leaving Malfatto to sleep in.
In the light of day, the room was a much different animal. In his lust-filled craze the day before he hadn’t truly examined anything aside from the bed. Malfatto’s private quarters spanned the entire second story of his shop, accessible only through a stairway in the pantry that was kept locked at all times. The room was dominated, surprisingly, by Malfatto’s bed which was large even by Teodor’s standards, and he had been raised in aristocratic comfort. The headboard was exquisite, made of a dark, polished lumber and embellished with a set of four inlaid rectangles that framed an intricate carved pattern resembling stained glass. Flanked by tall rectangular columns it sat upon a large red tapestry at the far side of the room, piled high with cream-colored pillows and a matching quilt.
Behind the bed hung heavy curtains the color of chocolate, covering what Teodor assumed was a large window. To the side stood a small table that held a couple of candles and quite a few books with even more piled haphazardly on the floor. Next to the magnificent bed, the rest of the room was rather spartan. On the wall opposite the bed, by the stairwell, sat a furnace and three rows of shelves that housed some rather scrappy looking books and scrolls. By the door there was yet another desk, this one much simpler than the roller desk downstairs. In the middle of the room was a small round table with two chairs, and on the far wall stood a tall wardrobe and a stand for the wash basin.
The room was clearly Malfatto’s retreat from the world. Curiosity piqued, Teodor explored the shelves that lined the walls, finding literature amongst the medical texts. He opened the wardrobe and inspected the neat rows of tunics, most of them boring save the doctor’s uniform that was sectioned off from the other garments. He was surprised to see Malfatto owned different coats and assumed them to be spares, but on further investigation realized they weren’t nearly as well padded or well made as the leather outfit he had become familiar with. Even the extra masks were different, the beaks much longer and lacking the dark spectacles that hid Malfatto’s eyes. With some frustration at his own stupidity, Teodor realized that the clothes Malfatto usually wore were more like armor than any uniform. He began to understand that these outfits, thin and dusty from lack of use, only served as memories.
Teodor’s spying was cut short by a loud rumbling of his stomach. He hadn’t eaten since his return to Roma and suddenly his hunger was sharp and overwhelming. He made his way over to the furnace in the corner, the fire inside still burning low and hot. Malfatto kept a full pantry downstairs, but there were a few breakfast items nearby-coffee, a few overripe pears and some oats for porridge. Teodor helped himself, trying his best to stay quiet.
As the coffee began to boil and the porridge thickened, Malfatto slept on. Teodor settled at the table with his breakfast and spent his time studying him. He marveled at how such a reclusive, cautious man could sleep so soundly while having a stranger in his home. In some ways he had come to think of Malfatto as almost inhuman, never sleeping or eating, his face always hidden. To see his long, skinny frame curled under the sheets only added to the fragmented understanding Teodor had of him.
Taking his coffee in hand, Teodor approached the desk. Candles were piled along the edges, white wax creeping along the side where it had dripped and dried. A few journals were on the desk, one possibly a ledger, and beside those lay Malfatto’s mask. Without even realizing what exactly he was doing until he had it by the beak, Teodor raised it to his face. Immediately the room dimmed, the black glasses making it difficult to see and Teodor understood at once Malfatto’s fondness for windows and candles. How he managed to get anywhere at night was a mystery.
Teodor felt smothered. The few slits in the beak didn’t let in enough air at all and even with the mask untied Teodor felt his face grow hot. Each breath he took sounded like thunder and reverberated inside his skull. Quickly overwhelmed, he pulled the mask off and stared at it, shocked at how it could cause such suffering. He couldn’t imagine wearing it for more than a few minutes, let alone almost all the hours of the day. He glanced over to Malfatto in the bed and held back a wince when he met a pair of curious blue eyes.
Caught, he lowered the mask gingerly onto the desktop and gave Malfatto a sheepish smile. Malfatto’s eyes widened at the expression, intrigued, but he said nothing.
“How do you stand it?” Teodor asked, more to himself than the doctor.
Malfatto looked confused for a moment as he rose from the bed, bending to pick up his pants and slide them on. “I don’t understand,” he said after awhile, sounding cautious.
“There’s food,” Teodor said, voice soft as he considered the mask. Malfatto blinked at the comment, then resumed his usual silent staring. Teodor gestured to the stove. Malfatto’s entire body turned in that direction as if pulled by invisible string. As Malfatto helped himself to coffee and a bowl of porridge, Teodor ran a hand over the journals on top of the desk, recognizing one as the journal he had “borrowed” over the months.
Malfatto sat down and watched Teodor explore with a blank expression on his face, making no move to stop him. The desk had only a single top drawer, unlocked, and Teodor slowly pulled it open, watching Malfatto’s face as he did so. The doctor sipped his coffee, his own eyes never leaving Teodor.
Inside the drawer were letters, each bearing a seal Teodor knew well, and he hastily averted his eyes. His hand groped inside the drawer, skimming over a few quills before closing around a smooth rectangle. Curious, he pulled it out, holding it up to the light. The rectangle was made of simple glass, the corners slightly worn so as not to cut. Encased inside was the small black and white butterfly Teodor had brought back from Senigallia.
Teodor’s eyes flicked to Malfatto, feeling the back of his neck heat. The doctor was standing now, setting his cup on the table. He walked over to Teodor and took the butterfly from him with careful fingers. Gently he placed it back in the drawer and closed it. Malfatto’s blue eyes regarded Teodor curiously but he said nothing. Instead he slid a hand around the back of Teodor’s neck, bringing him in for a deep kiss. Teodor hummed as his head was pushed back, Malfatto’s other hand coming to cup his jaw. For all that Malfatto left unsaid, he certainly made up for it with those wonderful hands. Teodor couldn’t keep his own from wandering, sliding to cup sharp, naked hipbones. Malfatto pulled away once and Teodor blinked stupidly with affection, then kissed him again, this time with a bit more fervor.
“I get to do this whenever I want, don’t I?” Malfatto murmured when they finally broke apart. He sounded like he’d just discovered something important.
“Yes,” Teodor replied, not bothering to add the qualifying in private. Malfatto was odd, not stupid. And then he thought of Malfatto in his full doctor’s uniform, gloved and hidden in a back alley, snatching him by surprise. The thought made his cock twitch and Teodor looked down at the mask on the table.
Malfatto followed his gaze. He picked up the mask with both hands, looking at it and then to Teodor.
“You want me to wear it, don’t you,” Malfatto said, voice pitched much lower than it was a minute ago. Teodor felt himself flush from the chest up. Malfatto shifted the mask from one hand to another, then began to raise it to his face
“Wait,” Teodor said, remembering how awful it had felt upon his skin.
“It feels safe,” Malfatto said, voice barely above a whisper. He slipped the mask on, blue eyes disappearing behind the cold, black glasses. Every facial cue Teodor had been gorging himself on the past day and a half was taken away. Once again, Malfatto became something foreign, something dangerous, even without a shirt.
“Mon Dieu,” Teodor breathed. He felt like he was burning alive, knowing what now lived underneath that sharp beak. Aching, he leaned in to kiss Malfatto and belatedly realized he couldn’t. Dismayed, delighted, he wasn’t sure, but the end result was him sinking his teeth into Malfatto’s collarbone. Malfatto hissed at the bite, pulling Teodor off him with strong arms.
“Say more,” Malfatto said, voice muffled inside the mask. Teodor’s fingers scrabbled at the bare skin before him. “In French, I want to hear it.”
“What would I say?” Teodor mumbled, distracted. Malfatto took him by the arms, pushing back towards his bed. Teodor complied, Malfatto releasing him only long enough to let him wriggle out of his shirt before the back of his knees hit the bed.
“What is the word for ‘doctor?’” Malfatto asked, pushing Teodor to sit on the bed before him.
“Médecin,” Teodor answered, leaning forward to kiss and lick at Malfatto’s stomach.
Malfatto groaned. “Say ‘please.’”
“S'il vous plaît,” Teodor said, getting the idea. “Médecin, s'il vous plaît.” He leaned back just enough to get to work on his breeches, eyelashes fluttering as the fabric pulled against his erection.
Malfatto did nothing about his own pants, only descended upon Teodor like a fury. He pushed Teodor further up the bed, hair golden and beak gleaming as he crawled on top of him. Wrapping long fingers around Teodor’s wrists he pulled them above his head, making Teodor arch almost uncomfortably. Teodor struggled just enough for show before letting himself relax. He stared wide-eyed at the mask, wondering at how something so frightening could make him so crazy.
With his free hand, Malfatto pinched a lock of Teodor’s hair, studying it. The mask tipped down at him, expectant, and Teodor remembered.
“Cheveux,” he said, grinding up with his hips. Malfatto gave his wrists a brutal squeeze and Teodor cried out as his bones ground together. He smiled at Malfatto.
The doctor traced his finger around Teodor’s ear. “L'oreille.”
Over his eyes, his nose, his lips. “Yeux. Nez. Lèvres.”
Teodor nipped at the passing fingertip. “Dents,” he said. “Pour mordre,” he added, and rejoiced in how Malfatto’s hips twitched against his.
Malfatto sat up, releasing his harsh grip on Teodor’s right wrist and lifting the left to his face. Gently he ran the back of Teodor’s hand over the cool ceramic, knuckles brushing over the black glasses. He let Teodor’s fingers stroke the underside of the sharp beak until Teodor was shaking with need.
“You say things when you dream. Beautiful things I don’t understand,” Malfatto confessed, voice thin and husky. Teodor startled at the words, unwilling to bring his dreams into his waking hours.
“Je veux que tu me baises,” he said, voice no longer playful. It was low, dangerous, and Malfatto stilled.
“What does that mean?”
“I want you to fuck me,” Teodor growled, keeping his accent thick. He reached for Malfatto’s crotch with his free hand. “Now.”
Malfatto’s entire body tensed as if he’d been slapped. He dropped Teodor’s wrist and curled in on himself, enveloping Teodor in leather-scented skin. Braced on his elbows, the tip of his beak was inches from Teodor’s eye.
“Say it again,” Malfatto rumbled.
“I want you to fuck me,” Teodor breathed, watching the mask that threatened to blind him.
“Say it right. Say please,” Malfatto demanded. Teodor felt a hand slide between them, the sharp pain of a fingernail threading across the slit of his already throbbing cock. He choked, terrified of what Malfatto was capable of.
“Je veux que tu me baises. S'il vous plaît,” he answered in a rush, chest beginning to heave.
Malfatto, the mask, either one was relentless. “And what do you call me?”
“Médecin,” Teodor gasped, willing to say anything. “Je veux que tu me baises. S'il vous plaît, médecin.”
The groan that came from Malfatto was nearly inhuman. In a flash of violent motion Malfatto rose to his knees, one hand pushing his pants down just far enough to get his cock out, the other shoving his mask high up on his forehead. His blue eyes were nearly as dark as his glasses and Teodor whimpered with relief as Malfatto finally sought to silence him with a harsh kiss.
The sex that followed was equally as rough, Teodor flipped and flattened on his stomach and fucked hard enough to make him snap and claw at the sheets. At some point Malfatto ripped off his mask entirely so he could nip at Teodor’s ears, feverishly whispering “Say it, say it,” as Teodor continued to mumble in his native tongue, not even aware of whatever it was he was saying most of the time. Teodor was too busy listening to the whine in Malfatto’s voice, how he went breathless as he came, seeming almost shocked. He recovered well enough to bring Teodor off with oil-slicked fingers, his eyes the size of saucers as he paid such close attention to every twitch and gasp Teodor thought Malfatto sought to undo him completely.
Afterwards Malfatto left the bed only long enough to rid himself of the pants that were still tangled about his ankles. Teodor watched him, lazy in his satisfaction. When Malfatto crawled back under the sheets he didn’t seem to know exactly how to lay down again and spent a few awkward moments trying to arrange his body before Teodor simply reached out pulled him in tight, tucking Malfatto’s sweaty head underneath his chin. Malfatto, too exhausted to resist, sprawled gratefully across Teodor’s chest, boneless and tacky with sweat and semen. They lay quietly together, recovering. Teodor felt relaxed for the first time in weeks and judging by the deep, rhythmic sound of Malfatto’s breathing the doctor was nearly asleep.
Eventually, Teodor was the one to break the moment. He was long overdue in reporting to Castel Sant’Angelo and had an ominous sense that Cesare probably wanted to speak to him. As he slipped from the bed and began piecing together his clothes Malfatto sat up, looking groggy but sated. Teodor took in the dark circles under his eyes and remembered the hour when Malfatto had slipped into bed, smelling of blood. Teodor blanched at the memory then pushed it aside in favor of holding onto his contentment, fleeting as it may be.
He retrieved Malfatto’s coffee and brought it to him, sitting on the bed so he could lace up his boots. Malfatto took the mug without comment, then tipped forward to steal a few more lazy, definitely sloppy kisses. It seemed oddly affectionate, Teodor thought absently. Tying a final knot in his boot strings he stood up, smoothing his clothes as best he could with his hands.
“I have to report in,” he explained, perhaps needlessly. Malfatto stared at him without expression. As usual. Teodor ran a hand through his hair, trying to coax it into submission. “You should sleep,” he tried again, reaching out to run his thumb over one elegant cheekbone.
Malfatto said nothing. Teodor hated how effective that was.
“I’ll be back later, when I can,” he said helplessly.
Malfatto brightened slightly. “Your bag is downstairs with your uniform. I had them sent here.”
“You had them sent here?” Teodor said, surprised. Then it occurred to him. “Well,” he said, smiling wickedly, “you were quite confident, weren’t you.”
Three extraordinary things happened after that. There was a pause before Malfatto responded, and Teodor watched a slow blush spread across Malfatto’s fair complexion. That was the first. He made a note to make it his personal mission to have Malfatto do that more often.
“I-” Malfatto said, then stopped. The second thing came in the form of a slightly impish smile that nearly made Teodor’s heart stop. “Yes. Yes I was.”
And then Malfatto laughed.
† † †
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author's notes | warnings
Editor's Note: The only French I know is spoken by French-Canadian hockey players with no teeth so it is not very clear what they are saying. Google translates, but sometimes not very well.
Author's Note: If anyone fluent in French is reading this and notices some mistakes, please let me know so I can change it. Thanks!