Cardin waited in the living room until past midnight, lounging around in various positions on the couch and in the alcove with a book, but he was restless with worry, and there were too many thoughts swimming through his mind to absorb what he was reading. After his seventh failed reread of a particular paragraph, he let the open book fall onto his face and let out a frustrated groan.
So much had happened in the last twenty-four hours, more than he could take in. Questions flooded in like an avalanche.
Who are those four? Why were they all armed? How did they get into the house? Weren't there only two sets of keys, mine and Keary's? Where did they all run off to so urgently?
Whoever they were and whatever they were doing, it seemed to him that Nigel was the one calling the shots. They had stopped their attacks immediately when he had appeared, and had obeyed his command with haste.
There was also that annoying thing that the tall figure with the long braid had called him: Keary's new pet. Cardin huffed indignantly at the recollection of the words, and the careless way in which they had been said.
Who the fuck are they calling a pet? Also, does that mean that Keary has had other “pets” before? Who were they? Did they also have this tense distance with him? Did they just sit around, waiting for Keary to come home, like I’m doing now?
And what about Edith? Had she been one such "pet"? But no… Cardin recalled what Keary had said: he had been her plaything. Thinking of it made Cardin's stomach churn violently, and he felt jealousy flash through him. He swiped the book off his face in irritation, and it landed on the floor with a plop that seemed to echo against the walls of the empty living room as he curled onto his side.
It wasn't so much that Keary had a history of intimacy with someone else, although that definitely stung. More importantly, there were just too many secrets surrounding Keary that Cardin had no way of knowing until they ambushed him out of the blue, like the four strangers in black had literally done. It irked him. He wanted to ask Nigel, but he knew from experience that the redhead would find some way to evade giving Cardin any semblance of a direct or useful answer.
So much for meaning much to him. All he does is keep me at arm’s length. Everyone else knows more about him than I do, and I’m the only one here left waiting alone without a clue what’s going on.
He tightened his arms closer to his chest, where the knot of bitterness and anxiety burgeoned, then gave a deep sigh.
It’s fine, he told himself. I’ll still be fine even if he doesn’t let me into his heart, even if whatever this is that I’m hoping for with him doesn’t work out. We can just get along as two housemates, nothing more, and I'll build my own life from there.
I’ll ask him straight when he comes back, and then I’ll know what to do with these feelings I have for him.
The resolution brought him some relief, and although the ache of longing remained, he felt the tension in his body ease. He was suddenly aware of the fatigue from the lack of sleep and all the pent-up emotions he had experienced over the last two days. Gradually, the blue eyes grew heavy, and drifted shut…
… but flashed wide open at the sound of someone stumbling around outside, fumbling with keys, and then cursing when they dropped on the ground. Cardin checked the time–just after 2am–before rising to open the front door.
The first thing he saw was Nigel, whose gaze snapped up as the door swung open.
“Cardin? Why are you awake?”
“I heard you at the door. Where’s–”
The question died on his lips as his eyes locked onto the dark-haired figure slumped heavily against Nigel, one black-clad arm draped around the redhead’s shoulders. Turning pale, Cardin looked back to Nigel, whose mouth was set in a grim line.
“Keary’s injured. We need to get him inside, quickly.”
Shaken, Cardin stepped back to let them enter. As Nigel stepped in, a groan that sounded more like a growl came from the dark figure slung around him. Blood dripped a trail on the floor behind them, and when Cardin quickly moved to help, he saw that the dark-haired boy’s lips were white in a face scored with cuts and bruises. He was blinking hard, as if fighting his way out of deep slumber.
“What happened?” He turned anxiously to Nigel, who was trying to set Keary on the couch as the other boy started to struggle.
“I’ll explain later. Right now, as you can see, Keary’s our biggest problem.” His face was grim. “He’s been phasing in and out– Stay still, you idiot! You’re home, okay?”
Silver eyes too bright, Keary strained, grinding out through gritted teeth, “I’m gonna fucking kill him…!”
“Sure, you do that, but first we’ve gotta– hey!” The rust-haired man caught Keary around the waist to stop him from lunging up from the sofa, just as another set of footsteps came running up to the house. Cardin braced for an attack, but it was the curly-haired young man from earlier.
“Is he here?” he called in urgently.
Nigel yelled, “You’re late, Shun! Get in here!”
“Do you know how bloody long it took to shake them off?” The young man called Shun rushed in, slamming the door behind him.
“Whatever, just get to it! This fucker is… ah, fuck! Keary, it’s me! And that’s my fucking face!”
“Okay, okayokayokay.” Shun scooted to them, dodging the flail of arms and legs and kneeling in front of the couch. “Kear, this is for the pain, yeah?” He held up a vial in front of Keary’s face, then quickly screwed off the lid and poured its contents into Keary’s snarling mouth as Nigel did his best to hold him still. Within seconds, the dark head fell back, argent eyes fluttering shut. Cardin watched as they exchanged a look, then cautiously sat back with a sigh.
“Fucking hell,” Shun muttered. “Just like old days.” His mask was lowered, revealing a tanned face with chiselled features and full lips.
“Just like old days,” Nigel echoed, brow furrowed. “It’s been awhile since he got hurt like this.” There were smudges of blood on his cheek and his hands from wrestling Keary down, the dark stains making his already fair skin look even paler.
Cardin waited in the living room until past midnight, lounging around in various positions on the couch and in the alcove with a book, but he was restless with worry, and there were too many thoughts swimming through his mind to absorb what he was reading. After his seventh failed reread of a particular paragraph, he let the open book fall onto his face and let out a frustrated groan.
So much had happened in the last twenty-four hours, more than he could take in. Questions flooded in like an avalanche.
Who are those four? Why were they all armed? How did they get into the house? Weren't there only two sets of keys, mine and Keary's? Where did they all run off to so urgently?
Whoever they were and whatever they were doing, it seemed to him that Nigel was the one calling the shots. They had stopped their attacks immediately when he had appeared, and had obeyed his command with haste.
There was also that annoying thing that the tall figure with the long braid had called him: Keary's new pet. Cardin huffed indignantly at the recollection of the words, and the careless way in which they had been said.
Who the fuck are they calling a pet? Also, does that mean that Keary has had other “pets” before? Who were they? Did they also have this tense distance with him? Did they just sit around, waiting for Keary to come home, like I’m doing now?
And what about Edith? Had she been one such "pet"? But no… Cardin recalled what Keary had said: he had been her plaything. Thinking of it made Cardin's stomach churn violently, and he felt jealousy flash through him. He swiped the book off his face in irritation, and it landed on the floor with a plop that seemed to echo against the walls of the empty living room as he curled onto his side.
It wasn't so much that Keary had a history of intimacy with someone else, although that definitely stung. More importantly, there were just too many secrets surrounding Keary that Cardin had no way of knowing until they ambushed him out of the blue, like the four strangers in black had literally done. It irked him. He wanted to ask Nigel, but he knew from experience that the redhead would find some way to evade giving Cardin any semblance of a direct or useful answer.
So much for meaning much to him. All he does is keep me at arm’s length. Everyone else knows more about him than I do, and I’m the only one here left waiting alone without a clue what’s going on.
He tightened his arms closer to his chest, where the knot of bitterness and anxiety burgeoned, then gave a deep sigh.
It’s fine, he told himself. I’ll still be fine even if he doesn’t let me into his heart, even if whatever this is that I’m hoping for with him doesn’t work out. We can just get along as two housemates, nothing more, and I'll build my own life from there.
I’ll ask him straight when he comes back, and then I’ll know what to do with these feelings I have for him.
The resolution brought him some relief, and although the ache of longing remained, he felt the tension in his body ease. He was suddenly aware of the fatigue from the lack of sleep and all the pent-up emotions he had experienced over the last two days. Gradually, the blue eyes grew heavy, and drifted shut…
… but flashed wide open at the sound of someone stumbling around outside, fumbling with keys, and then cursing when they dropped on the ground. Cardin checked the time–just after 2am–before rising to open the front door.
The first thing he saw was Nigel, whose gaze snapped up as the door swung open.
“Cardin? Why are you awake?”
“I heard you at the door. Where’s–”
The question died on his lips as his eyes locked onto the dark-haired figure slumped heavily against Nigel, one black-clad arm draped around the redhead’s shoulders. Turning pale, Cardin looked back to Nigel, whose mouth was set in a grim line.
“Keary’s injured. We need to get him inside, quickly.”
Shaken, Cardin stepped back to let them enter. As Nigel stepped in, a groan that sounded more like a growl came from the dark figure slung around him. Blood dripped a trail on the floor behind them, and when Cardin quickly moved to help, he saw that the dark-haired boy’s lips were white in a face scored with cuts and bruises. He was blinking hard, as if fighting his way out of deep slumber.
“What happened?” He turned anxiously to Nigel, who was trying to set Keary on the couch as the other boy started to struggle.
“I’ll explain later. Right now, as you can see, Keary’s our biggest problem.” His face was grim. “He’s been phasing in and out– Stay still, you idiot! You’re home, okay?”
Silver eyes too bright, Keary strained, grinding out through gritted teeth, “I’m gonna fucking kill him…!”
“Sure, you do that, but first we’ve gotta– hey!” The rust-haired man caught Keary around the waist to stop him from lunging up from the sofa, just as another set of footsteps came running up to the house. Cardin braced for an attack, but it was the curly-haired young man from earlier.
“Is he here?” he called in urgently.
Nigel yelled, “You’re late, Shun! Get in here!”
“Do you know how bloody long it took to shake them off?” The young man called Shun rushed in, slamming the door behind him.
“Whatever, just get to it! This fucker is… ah, fuck! Keary, it’s me! And that’s my fucking face!”
“Okay, okayokayokay.” Shun scooted to them, dodging the flail of arms and legs and kneeling in front of the couch. “Kear, this is for the pain, yeah?” He held up a vial in front of Keary’s face, then quickly screwed off the lid and poured its contents into Keary’s snarling mouth as Nigel did his best to hold him still. Within seconds, the dark head fell back, argent eyes fluttering shut. Cardin watched as they exchanged a look, then cautiously sat back with a sigh.
“Fucking hell,” Shun muttered. “Just like old days.” His mask was lowered, revealing a tanned face with chiselled features and full lips.
“Just like old days,” Nigel echoed, brow furrowed. “It’s been awhile since he got hurt like this.” There were smudges of blood on his cheek and his hands from wrestling Keary down, the dark stains making his already fair skin look even paler.
