Nathaniel comes into the room following his run with Jason, flushed and wiping sweat from his body with his shirt. He shuts the door and notices Damian, and he offers the vampire a smile.
"Hey, Damian. You're looking..." He pauses on his way to the shower. "You're looking a bit lost."
That was as clear a rejection as Nathaniel needs. He feels his cheeks flush, knowing he's pushed Damian, and -- it seems -- Damian was not ready for that particular push.
He stands up, swallowing, and tosses his shirt into the hamper. Nathaniel strips, putting all his clothes into the basket, and then grabs a change of clothes and heads into the bathroom. He pauses at the door and looks back at Damian's back.
"I'm sorry, Damian. I didn't mean to... push. Not like that."
Nathaniel closes the door and sets his clothes aside before turning the taps and opening the shower valve.
Damian lets the stagnant air out of his lungs when he hears the running water and the slight variances in the white noise when Nathaniel steps into the spray.
What the hell is wrong with him? He's the type to never be affected. Damian is known for his unshakable calm! So why was Nathaniel's teasing, sensual nature having a bigger affect on him than usual
( ... )
He hears Damian enter the room, smells him, but Nathaniel doesn't say anything. Behind the shower curtain, Nathaniel washes the sweat from his body, the scent of vanilla soon overpowering Damian's scent.
Nathaniel feels the weight of his wet hair, but he would wash it in a minute, giving Damian what time the vampire needed to say whatever he had come into the bathroom to say. He wouldn't rush Damian, and he wouldn't push. He'd overstepped the lines of their friendship, obviously, and he didn't want to make Damian angry with him.
If there was one thing Nathaniel didn't like, it was anger. Anger frightens him, makes him feel so small and vulnerable. He didn't want to anger a vampire, no matter how friendly that vampire usually was with him. It was the same feeling he has with Asher, this black terror of ever miss-stepping and seeing the fury of the predator of predators.
Flipping the top down on the toilet seat, Damian sits and carefully considers his words before speaking.
"I'm not angry with you, Nathaniel," he says first over the spray of the shower. He wants that to be very clear to the wereleopard. "I spent many lifetimes with the one who made me. There are a lot of things she trained into me, and some things that I was forced to learn in order to... protect myself."
He doesn't like sharing all this. It's personal. So very personal. Nevertheless, he continues. "Every desire she could sense in our minds or hearts, she used against us. She would give something, and enslave us with the fear of her taking it all away. But it gave her the most satisfaction to take the very thing we desired and twist it into something we feared, something that would inspire the mindless terror she could feed on."
Nathaniel leans against the wall in the shower, listening to Damian's words. He stands there, watching the soap swirl down the drain. It was a relief to know Damian wasn't mad at him.
But he keeps his silence, just letting Damian say what the vampire needed to. He knows when to speak and when to remain quiet, and now was a time to be quiet.
Strangely, Damian finds that speaking gives him a greater sense of control over himself. It's not so much what he reveals but that he chooses to reveal it.
"I fear many things... I fear many people." He hesitates for a moment. Standing from the toilet, he moves closer to the shower curtain, leaning against the tiled wall next to it. He can't see Nathaniel from where he is, but the illusion of being closer helps him say what he wants to say. "I don't want you to be one of them, Nat."
Nathaniel speaks with such conviction. How the wereleopard has managed to keep that sense of innocence and faith after all he's been through is something that Damian would love to know. He is far too jaded himself to have such faith.
"I have learned to trust no one, Nathaniel... no one. Not even myself." And the sadness in his words is nearly palpable. He had trusted Anita for those few blissful days before the reality of the situation made it all too clear that even she was a threat.
He finally reaches up and pulls at the shower curtain. The thirst is forcefully pushed back to drown in the white noise of the falling water, and he looks into Nathaniel's eyes through the spray. "If I die at dawn and never wake because Anita is not here," he pauses, the words difficult to say, "I want you to know that I trust you."
He just knows. If Damian wouldn't, then Moon would have said something to one of them, warned them. If the Lady hadn't said anything, he believes nothing will happen. Damian will sleep come dawn and wake with dusk as he ever has.
Perhaps it is that his friendship with Moon is too new, or his mistrust too old, but he doesn't think of that. He does, however, offer Nathaniel a small, grateful smile. He might not have Nathaniel's faith, but he appreciates the trait in the leopard.
He reaches out for a moment, but remembers his shirt and pulls back before the spray can drench the fabric. "May I still join you?"
It's an expression that makes even Damian's ice-cold body feel a spark of warmth. Pulling back from the shower, he strips himself of his dress shirt and slacks, draping them over the seat of the toilet. He enters the shower from the other side, away from the streaming water, and closes the curtain behind him.
His hands look deathly pale compared to Nathaniel's flushed skin, and he brushes them along Nat's shoulders as he gathers the wereleopard's hair. It is the barest of contact, but it shows silently how much he trusts Nathaniel. He could have run. He could have run away from Nat and found another donor for the night... but he didn't.
Nathaniel hands Damian the bottle of shampoo, purring softly, the sound harmonizing with the shower itself.
There was nothing quite like the act of grooming. Sometimes he managed to get Anita to do this for him, but most of the time, he tended his own hair in the shower. It was a decadent thing, something only Damian and Asher really did with him, and Nathaniel finds he doesn't mind it being only the two vampires.
Grooming was grooming, and the cat inside him was delighted.
Damian can imagine it would be quite a labourious task, and he can't help but smile slightly as he remembers the small tips Nathaniel gave him the first time he washed the man's long hair. It takes time to lather up the auburn mass, but he doesn't mind. The sound of Nathaniel's purring helps him remain calm and push back the hunger, which tries to constantly remind him that his next meal is within his grasp, ready and willing.
"The leopard is pleased," he remarks softly from behind his friend, combing his fingers through Nat's hair and making sure every inch of it is lathered.
"Hey, Damian. You're looking..." He pauses on his way to the shower. "You're looking a bit lost."
Reply
He stands up, swallowing, and tosses his shirt into the hamper. Nathaniel strips, putting all his clothes into the basket, and then grabs a change of clothes and heads into the bathroom. He pauses at the door and looks back at Damian's back.
"I'm sorry, Damian. I didn't mean to... push. Not like that."
Nathaniel closes the door and sets his clothes aside before turning the taps and opening the shower valve.
Reply
What the hell is wrong with him? He's the type to never be affected. Damian is known for his unshakable calm! So why was Nathaniel's teasing, sensual nature having a bigger affect on him than usual ( ... )
Reply
Nathaniel feels the weight of his wet hair, but he would wash it in a minute, giving Damian what time the vampire needed to say whatever he had come into the bathroom to say. He wouldn't rush Damian, and he wouldn't push. He'd overstepped the lines of their friendship, obviously, and he didn't want to make Damian angry with him.
If there was one thing Nathaniel didn't like, it was anger. Anger frightens him, makes him feel so small and vulnerable. He didn't want to anger a vampire, no matter how friendly that vampire usually was with him. It was the same feeling he has with Asher, this black terror of ever miss-stepping and seeing the fury of the predator of predators.
Of being harmed by the ones he had come to trust.
Reply
"I'm not angry with you, Nathaniel," he says first over the spray of the shower. He wants that to be very clear to the wereleopard. "I spent many lifetimes with the one who made me. There are a lot of things she trained into me, and some things that I was forced to learn in order to... protect myself."
He doesn't like sharing all this. It's personal. So very personal. Nevertheless, he continues. "Every desire she could sense in our minds or hearts, she used against us. She would give something, and enslave us with the fear of her taking it all away. But it gave her the most satisfaction to take the very thing we desired and twist it into something we feared, something that would inspire the mindless terror she could feed on."
Reply
But he keeps his silence, just letting Damian say what the vampire needed to. He knows when to speak and when to remain quiet, and now was a time to be quiet.
Reply
"I fear many things... I fear many people." He hesitates for a moment. Standing from the toilet, he moves closer to the shower curtain, leaning against the tiled wall next to it. He can't see Nathaniel from where he is, but the illusion of being closer helps him say what he wants to say. "I don't want you to be one of them, Nat."
Reply
"I would never betray your trust, Damian," he murmurs into the steam. "I'm no one to be afraid of."
Reply
"I have learned to trust no one, Nathaniel... no one. Not even myself." And the sadness in his words is nearly palpable. He had trusted Anita for those few blissful days before the reality of the situation made it all too clear that even she was a threat.
He finally reaches up and pulls at the shower curtain. The thirst is forcefully pushed back to drown in the white noise of the falling water, and he looks into Nathaniel's eyes through the spray. "If I die at dawn and never wake because Anita is not here," he pauses, the words difficult to say, "I want you to know that I trust you."
Reply
"You will wake, Damian."
He just knows. If Damian wouldn't, then Moon would have said something to one of them, warned them. If the Lady hadn't said anything, he believes nothing will happen. Damian will sleep come dawn and wake with dusk as he ever has.
"You'll wake, and I trust you too."
Reply
He reaches out for a moment, but remembers his shirt and pulls back before the spray can drench the fabric. "May I still join you?"
Reply
"I haven't washed my hair yet."
Reply
His hands look deathly pale compared to Nathaniel's flushed skin, and he brushes them along Nat's shoulders as he gathers the wereleopard's hair. It is the barest of contact, but it shows silently how much he trusts Nathaniel. He could have run. He could have run away from Nat and found another donor for the night... but he didn't.
Reply
There was nothing quite like the act of grooming. Sometimes he managed to get Anita to do this for him, but most of the time, he tended his own hair in the shower. It was a decadent thing, something only Damian and Asher really did with him, and Nathaniel finds he doesn't mind it being only the two vampires.
Grooming was grooming, and the cat inside him was delighted.
Reply
"The leopard is pleased," he remarks softly from behind his friend, combing his fingers through Nat's hair and making sure every inch of it is lathered.
Reply
Reply
Leave a comment