paradisalost | Discoveries [Closed]

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Discoveries [Closed]

Who: Vanyel & Apollo
What: Vanyel is bringing in Yfandes after their day of joy bringing, and meets a friend in the barn - where there are sugarplum fairies.
When: After this
Where: in the barn
Warnings: sugarplum fairies, kissings, freaking out

Leaving the blue and silver sleigh out back, Vanyel led his Companion into the warmth of the stables. Despite all the work she had done, the Companion proclaimed herself not in the least tired, though she did proclaim to be cold. This, of course, Vanyel knew to be an invitation to pamper her with a warm mash and blankets and a good brushing. He could only laugh and shake his head, marveling at how the cold weather and the prospect of the this 'Christmas' holiday had put such a prance into his dear one's step. Truthfully, they both needed it after the months spent on the front lines fighting off demons and all manner of more mundane things that nonetheless left them bloodied, muddied, and tired. He knew she appreciated getting to be beautiful again and to bring something other than stark terror. It did get tiring, being called 'demons' and such by the Karsites.

"All right, there we go," he said warmly to her as he set down a hot mash for her at the entrance to her stall, the door left perpetually open.

He moved a bit to the side and began to stroke her mane, working the knots out of it, and began carrying on what, to most, would seem a very odd and one-sided conversation.

"No, of course you look lovely."

"Yes, I did enjoy today. It was nice. I cannot remember the last time I heard children laugh around us."

"Well, that is only because they do not know anything of me."

"We are supposed to inspire trust in ordinary folk. And no one there was Herald or knew my.... "legend"." This last word was said with some contempt.

"If I promise to try will you just eat your mash?" And now he almost growled, but his fingers still moved gently through his hair, not wanting to hurt his beloved despite his growing ire.

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Where was he supposed to get a caramel apple? He could have tried wishing for one, but he thought the wishes only worked on the castle grounds. So the only other option would be the town. There's sure to be a shop that sells them. He puzzled over it for a moment before he finally made his decision and looked back at Vanyel.

He was going to tell him that he'd be right back, but the words dried up when he caught the other man staring at him. There was a long pause before he managed to speak. "Uh...is something wrong?"

"What?" he asked, for the first time feeling terribly stupid.

It had not happened in a long while, and it left him fumble-footed to say the least. He had not felt this way since first coming to Haven as a boy. And that had been - what - fifteen years ago? More? He sometimes lost track.

"Oh, I... nothing," he mumbled. "I suppose I am just fascinated with your hair. I have only ever seen silver like that on the mages of the k'Trava clan. I am getting there myself." He smiled faintly and touched the silver streak running through his own hair.

He looked down at the hair that fell over his shoulder as if trying to figure out what was so fascinating about it. It was an usual color, that he knew, but he'd never given it much thought. Now though, he couldn't help but wonder if his hair had always been that color or if it was a side effect to the experiments that were done on him.

"Well, it's natural, mostly. It's been this color as long as I can remember. At least I won't have to worry about grey hairs when I'm older." He raised an eyebrow when he finally spotted the silver streak in Vanyel's hair. "Is that supposed to happen?"

He nodded. "It comes from handling Node magic. It is so much concentrated magic pouring through me at once, that it bleaches my hair. The mages of the k'Trava clan handle it so often and so much of it that their hair goes completely silver. I do not do it have as much, and so only have the streak. It makes me seem older than I am."

He seemed to sigh melodramatically at this, Yfandes rolling a blue eye.

He considered Vanyel for a moment before breaking out into a grin. "Not older, exactly, maybe just wiser. How old are you really?" If what Vanyel said was true, then it had the opposite affect on Apollo. He didn't necessarily look younger, but he had aged gracefully despite his rough lifestyle.

He thought about it, actually scrunching his brow, shifting to put the mane comb away, and at the same time bring himself closer to Apollo, imagining the other was giving off a very lovely smell. Above them, a pixie tittered to itself and dropped more dust on them - a pixie bucket load.

"I will say I am in my thirties," he admitted at last, not wanting to give to much away, some of his peacock attitudes rising on a whim.

Apollo watched him curiously, and if he shifted a bit closer it was really only because he was showing an interest in the topic. Really. "You looked like you had to think about it. Do you not keep track of your birthday?"

Not that Apollo would be able to give anyone his exact age either. He didn't even know when his birthday was.

"Well, when you do not celebrate it regularly, I suppose one does tend to loose track," he admitted, leaning back up and suddenly realizing how close Apollo was.

He licked his lips, wanting so much to reach out and touch him, to slid his hands into that silver hair and press their lips together, to give himself over in every way to the other man. His body ached for touch. He could feel it in his bones. He was a man and had a man's needs, but alas not always the means to relieve them, nor the energy.

And yet, here, right in front of him, was a man who could.

But no! He had a husband. A husband... but did the husband have to know? What? No of course he did! What was wrong with him?

.... That hair was gorgeous though, and unconsciously he found himself reached up to wrap the ends around his delicate fingers, calloused from sword and reigns, turning his eyes up to Apollo's.

"Happy occasions are, alas, far and in between for me..."

"I know what you mean. We once thought about picking a random day of the year to celebrate our birthdays. But it just felt too...forced. So the best I can do is guess my age." He watched as Vanyel licked his lips, suddenly drawn to them for some reason. He usually wasn't like this. He doesn't ever stand around and stare at another man's lips that aren't his husbands.

And suddenly he remembered why whatever was happening wasn't good. But why then did it feel so good? A startled sound caught in his throat when Vanyel touched his hair and suddenly he was caught by his eyes.

"That's...terrible. Maybe here you'll have better luck at making some."

"Yes, perhaps...."

The world narrowed to Apollo's face - his strong jaw, his nose, his full mouth, those beautiful eyes. His whole world was that one face, that one beautiful face and the silken hair in his fingers. Even the feeling of his connection with Yfandes was muted.

He tightened his grip, leaning up on his toes and tugging Apollo down. He paused the barest breath and then was pressing his mouth to Apollo's, the touch of lips sending an electric shock through him that made him moan wantonly.

He went willingly when Vanyel pulled him down. Earlier thoughts of the Midnighter wiped from his mind. All he knew and focused on in that moment was the kiss, the feel of his lips pressed to Vanyel's.One of Apollo's hands rose up to grasp the back of his head and tilted it to better fit their lips together.

Any protests he had faded when their lips touched, arms tightening around Apollo, lifting up on his toes to better meet him. If Yfandes was screaming protests at him in his mind he could not hear them, drowning in the other man. He deepened the kiss, adding tongue and scraping his teeth against the other man's lip, never wanting to stop.

He responded passionately, adding his own tongue in a clash for dominance. His free arm wrapped around Vanyel's waist, pulling him in as close as possible. He had no intention of stopping anytime soon. In fact, he could probably go longer without breathing than Vanyel can.

This was probably true. Vanyel was usually told to breathe during exercises and strenuous activity, not hold it to prolong something. Still, he had not forgotten all his skill, breaking only long enough to take a deep, yet sharp breath and pressed their mouths together again, fingers tangling in his silver hair to make sure he did not try to escape.

Apollo slowly started to walk Vanyel backwards, until he was pressed back into one of the posts. He never loosened his grip and pressed even harder into the kiss until their teeth knocked together. He pressed so close it was like he was trying to crawl into Vanyel's skin.

Vanyel would have welcomed that. As it is, he was, clinging to Apollo as tightly as he was, scraping his teeth across the man's lip before diving back into his mouth with a vengeance.

How long had it been since he had been kissed like this? Held like this? To long, his body sang, far to long. The last he remembered was that guard, though even now his name was foggy in his mind. Other than him he was to scared to try, afraid they would run from him, cry rape or seduction. How long had it been since he could give himself over to a physical pleasure? Long enough that he clung to Apollo like the man was the only thing keeping him afloat in an ocean, his kisses the only thing keeping his sanity together a moment longer.

He slid his legs, hooking one around the back of Apollo's, shifting the other between the other man's legs as he fell deeper into the taste of him.

He groaned into the kiss as Vanyel slid his legs around and between his. Apollo grinded his hips against his in pure instinct, and squeezed them together even tighter. Despite wanting to loose himself in the kiss, he couldn't stop his mind from drawing comparisons between Vanyel and Midnighter.

Since he became the person he is now, Midnighter was the only real lover he'd had. Even during those years when they were apart, he'd been able to distract himself with caring for Jenny to keep his loneliness at bay.

But this...this was all new. The way Vanyel kissed, the way he felt in Apollo's arms, it was all so different from how it felt with Midnighter. He wasn't sure how he should have felt about that. But he didn't want to stop. Not yet. He was drawn in by the differences.

In the back of his mind, Vanyel always did the same when it came to thinking of Tylendel. Like Apollo, he could never help it, though he managed to push that to the back of his mind, lest sorrow and somehow a feeling of guilt overwhelm him.

Still, the thoughts made him moan. He shifted, sliding his hips against Apollo in return, trying to think of the last time he had done this, and finding it very hard to think of it. When? Months? Years?

With a need he did not know he had his fingers slid beneath the top of Apollo's shirt, feeling warm skin and scratching along it, other hand kneading the thick bicep as his mouth continued to draw the other in, never wanting to part from it, not even for breath (though of course that was inevitable and did happen, if only for a fraction of a heartbeat).

Should he stop? Some part of him said he should, that there was something Apollo had said - a husband. Yes, a husband. But he wanted him to. Was the husband even here in the world? Was he alone? Was he alone like he was? Like he had been for so long?

The touch of Vanyel's hand almost suprised him enough to break away. He didn't know when this had escalated so far out of his control, or why he wanted so desperately to continue. He caught Vanyel's lower lip in his mouth and bit down on it gently. He felt...almost intoxicated, like he wasn't completely in control of himself. The touch of Vanyel's hand under his shirt was tempting but...

Suddenly he couldn't get the image of Midnighter out of his head. For every kiss he shared with Vanyel, he remember one between his husband and he and suddenly he broke away from Vanyel and his touch. He put a small distance between them so he could put a thought together. "I'm sorry. We...I...can't do this."

The kiss broke and Vanyel thought he almost whined because of it, but managed to keep that under control. When Apollo drew away he could feel himself coming back, feel the press of Yfandes in the back of his mind, not quite screaming, but clearly shocked at what had just happened.

Him too.

"No, no.... I understand I... great Havens, I would never have... you have a husband," he whispered. "How could I kiss a man with a husband?"

He felt like he had violated the man, his stomach churning sickly.

It was an odd relief that Vanyel looked as confused as Apollo felt. He had no idea how this could have happened and he'd been there the whole time. One minute they were talking normally and the next...they were doing way less talking and way more touching.

All the same the urge to comfort the man swept through him. He raised his hands, as if he were going to place then comfortingly on Vanyel's shoulders, before he thinks better of it. The last thing they needed was more contact.

"No, it's okay...I mean, it's not okay, obviously, but it's not your fault. I could have stopped it sooner-I should have stopped it sooner." He could feel the words pouring out of his mouth unchecked and unstoppable. He'd never felt this flustered before.

"You? I should have!" he groaned, sinking down onto his butt against the pole, running his hands through his hair. "I barely know you and I practically threw myself at you! Havens, am I so pathetic?"

Yfandes tried to seen him a soothing thought, but he blocked it, almost viciously, as he was wont to do when in his depressive moods.

He crouches down in front of him with a sympathetic look. "I don't think you're pathetic. There seems to be a lot of it going around. The kissing I mean. I don't think it's just us."

He didn't really know why he didn't put that together in the first place, but it didn't click into place until just now. Maybe they weren't totally to blame after all.

He looked him, those beautiful violet eyes confused, and so willing to fall back into blaming himself. It was an easy thing to do, a trait he had not quite shoved aside after Tylendel's death, despite his working at looking at the love of his life in a new way.

"I've heard a lot of people talking about it over the journal. Haven't you? Someone said something about fairies and the people who've been here a long time act like this happens every year."

Now that he was saying it out loud he knew how crazy it sounded. But since when was this place supposed to make any kind of sense?

Discoveries [Closed]

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