[Infinity's End] The Break of Day 01-09
May. 27th, 2011 05:28 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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azardarkstar for the beta work!
Title: The Break of Day
Series: Infinity's End, Prequel
Summary: A friendship that takes everyone by surprise slowly evolves into a deeper bond as Azriel, illegitimate son of the house Celestine, and Kieran, heir to the house Azura, throw themselves into the heart of a building altercation that explodes into an all out revolution.
(1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) (9) (10) (11) (12) (13) (14) (15) (16) (17) (18) (19) (20)
January 1st, 1979
“Happy New Year!”
Azriel blinked as what appeared to be brightly colored bits of paper fell down over his head in a little rain and Kieran's cheerful greeting blasted over his face. Honestly, that wasn’t what he expected upon opening his door. In fact, Azriel had plans to meet his uncles for dinner in a little under an hour, so he hadn’t expected anyone to be stopping by.
Azriel's brow furrowed. “And the same to you,” he said as Kieran's arms gradually lowered and the last bits of his confetti fluttered to the ground. “Did I miss something?”
“No. I just figured since you weren't working, you were free,” Kieran said with one of his sparkling grins as Azriel stepped aside and let Kieran enter the house. “Maybe you have some special celebration or something?”
Azriel closed the door with a quiet click. “You mean, like Samhain?”
“Yes.”
“No. Not really.” He followed Kieran as he made his way to the den, easy for him to find since he had come to know his way around Azriel's house as though it were his own. “Why?”
Kieran shrugged, pausing in the doorway. “I thought it’d be interesting to watch again. But since you're not... Want to sneak into Moriarty? Souya told me that a lot of the shops are offering free samples in celebration!” He practically drooled at the thought.
The older boy internally winced. He’d have to turn Kieran down and gently, too. Kieran always pouted when things didn't go his way. He'd put on that puppy-ish expression that tended to make Azriel give in every time.
“Putting aside the fact it’d probably anger your father,” the brunet began, “I won't be able to accompany you.”
Kieran’s jaw all but dropped. “You have other plans?”
“Is that so hard to believe?”
“No...” Kieran trailed off and then reached up, brushing bits of confetti from Azriel's hair. “Where's Neorah today?”
“Working,” Azriel explained and batted away the hand on his head. “So you can't stay here and plot things behind my back.”
The corner of Kieran's lip curled into a smirk. “Just ruin all my plans why don't you?” His eyes skipped over Azriel, noting his half-dressed, somewhat disheveled state. “Oh, and by plans, you mean soon, don't you?”
“Yes,” Azriel replied shortly and took a step back. “Where are the others? I thought you'd want to skip around Moriarty with Tegan.”
Kieran grinned, sliding back out of the doorway and to the hallway. Apparently, he wasn't going to stick around.
“He's still hiding from you, refused to even come here.” He chuckled. “And the others have various excuses.”
“Ah, so I'm a last resort?” the brunet questioned, though his tone was amused more than anything. “I feel touched.”
“You know it wasn't like that,” Kieran shot back, edging back toward the front door. “What big plans do you have today anyway? It can't be half as fun as free treats in Moriarty.” He made a face. “I'll bet you’re going to work just to spite me.”
Azriel smirked at Kieran's sulky expression. “As a matter of fact, I’m not. Lord Adair wouldn’t allow it.”
“Good for him then.” His friend gave a small laugh. “Someday, I'm going to have to thank him personally.”
“For what?” Azriel asked, reaching for the door handle as he angled himself to face Kieran.
The younger boy grinned brightly. “For making sure you don't drown yourself in a boring life,” he quipped as Azriel opened the door for him.
Laughter alerted Azriel to the fact their conversation had been witnessed, and when he looked, he saw both his uncles standing in front of the door. Adair even had his hand raised, as though ready to knock.
One brown eyebrow lifted curiously. “Good afternoon, nephew,” Lord Adair greeted, and his eyes skipped to Kieran. “Is this the infamous Kieran I've heard so much about then?”
Azriel, for his part, knew that heat had crawled into his cheeks. Kieran, displaying his usual lack of shame, grinned cheekily and dipped his head in a shallow greeting.
“Indeed, Lord Adair. A pleasure to meet you at last. Azriel talks about you all the time,” he replied with a perfectly polite tone that Lord Azura must have ingrained in him. Kieran looked past Adair. “Good day to you as well, Lord Aidan.”
Both of his uncles were incredibly amused. At his expense, Azriel was sure. But he bit back a sigh and shifted his eyes back toward Adair.
“I thought I was going to meet you,” he said, unable to stomach the rumors that would probably arise at the sight of the two lords fetching their unaccepted nephew from the wrong side of the fence.
“Yes, well, we were hoping to give our New Year’s regards to Miss Neorah,” Aidan said, but there was amusement in his tone as his eyes cut to his brother, who coughed into his sleeve and shifted uneasily.
Azriel inclined his head. “I see. Mother's at the clinic this evening. She'll be sorry she missed your visit.”
Adair seemed rather disappointed as he swept a hand over his carefully arranged hair. “I regret missing her as well.”
“Aside from that, you’re ready to leave, aren't you, nephew?” Aidan inserted, looking more and more amused by the moment. Azriel suspected this was some sort of inside joke between the brothers, but he’d rather not know.
“Ah, that would also be my cue to make my escape,” Kieran inserted then, edging out of the doorway in a bid for freedom. “I'm in the way.”
“On the contrary,” Adair corrected, clearing his throat as he visibly found his composure. “Would you be interested in joining us? We're just taking our nephew out for dinner.”
Once again, Azriel swore that Kieran perked up like an excitable dog. Eyes lighting up and invisible tail wagging happily. But it drooped a bit as he reconsidered.
“Are you sure I wouldn't be interrupting?” he asked in a voice that was almost painfully hopeful.
“Not at all,” Aidan assured before Azriel could get a word in edgewise. “The more the merrier. We’re always interested in meeting our nephew's friends.”
Somehow, Azriel thought this might be a bad idea for his sanity. Kieran and his mother were already plotting together. The last thing Azriel needed was for his uncles to recruit Kieran in their schemes as well. He'd never escape.
“With that said, you ought finished getting dressed, nephew,” Adair commented, gaze sweeping Azriel from head to toe and taking in the fact he wasn't fully prepared.
Azriel flushed, restraining himself from tugging self-consciously on the wrinkled shirt he'd thrown on when he first heard the knocking. He made his excuses and hurried down the hallway, leaving Kieran with his two uncles, unable to shake the feeling that it was a very bad idea to do so.
His mother's influence was bad enough. Azriel was certain that his rule-breaking uncles were interested in recruiting Kieran for their plots as well.
Azriel dressed in a rush, sliding into a pair of trousers and putting on a new shirt that still had creases. He tugged on his heavy cloak and slid into fur-lined boots, well aware of the snow that still blanketed the ground in a chilly layer. Thus appropriately dressed, Azriel checked the appearance of his hair in the mirror, and deemed it acceptable for public view. Aidan and Adair weren't expecting dinner at a fancy, well-known eatery, but it was better to look his best. If there was one thing Azriel refused to do, it was embarrass or shame his uncles.
The sound of laughter floated to his ears, and a bit concerned for his own safety, Azriel hurried out of his room and back down the hallway. Kaiyu knows what kind of nefarious plots the three were already crafting.
Kieran arched a brow as Azriel half-slid into view. “Something chasing you?” he quipped.
“No,” Azriel said carefully, and chewing on the inside of his cheek, he inclined his head. “Shall we leave then? If I know one thing, it's that Kieran is hungry.”
“Always,” the Azura heir agreed with a faint cheer. “What did you have in mind, Lords Celestine?”
“Please, Kieran. You are welcome to call us by our names,” Adair said, holding up a hand to stop any more overly polite conversation. “Any friend that our nephew claims is welcome to that.”
Kieran beamed at the invitation, and Azriel was suddenly glad that he’d been invited along. It seemed to make him happy, and well, Azriel would admit – if only to himself – that he enjoyed seeing Kieran smile. Such a simple thing, really.
“Let's go,” Azriel ushered everyone out the door so he could pull it shut behind him. “Let your goal of embarrassing me begin.”
When both his uncles and Kieran gave him identical, mischievous looks, Azriel was certain he was in for a long, humiliating night.
o0o0o
February 14th, 1979
Kieran was warm, happy, giddy even. And maybe a little drunk. The bottle of Rozlin that Harper had given him was delicious, heating him from head to toe as it sloshed around in his belly along with the food and the bag of cookies from Iris' bakery that Souya had bought him.
This had to be his best birthday ever. All of his friends were here, he had loads of presents, and his mom had even made him a cake all his own. Things honestly couldn't get any better.
“Here, have some more,” Lyra said with a yawn, pushing another cup his direction.
Kieran reached for it, but another hand appeared in his vision, easily sweeping it out of his reach.
“I think he's had enough,” Azriel put in as he whisked it away.
Something akin to a puppy-like whimper arose in Kieran's throat. “But--”
“Awww, Azriel, you're such a spoilsport,” Harper drawled, but she swayed unsteadily on her stool.
Kieran giggled. Actually giggled.
Azriel raised his brow pointedly. “If I must be the adult of this group, then so be it. None of you should be drinking in the first place.”
Yonah nodded sagely, fingers curled around her second glass of white wine. “But it's a special occasion.”
“One that's reached its end,” Azriel commented with a look at wobbly Harper, grinning Souya, sleepy Lyra, and pink-cheeked Yonah.
Kieran frowned, though it was closer to a pout. “So soon?” he asked and attempted to stand, but the moment his feet hit the floor, the whole room spun.
Souya was there in a second, wavering on his feet, and the two of them struggled to keep each other upright, much to their own amusement.
“I think I'll agree with Azriel,” Lyra commented, stirring from a sleepy stupor. “At this rate, none of us will get home under our power.”
“Some of us won't be anyway,” Yonah inserted, and she watched as Harper tipped out of her stool and made a clumsy attempt at standing. “Especially that one.” Her eyes swung toward Kieran who grinned sloppily.
“I'm fine,” he said, waving a hand of dismissal and leaning a bit to the right. Souya though leaned a bit to the left, and they staggered in opposite directions.
Where was that mug of ale again?
“Definitely time to pack it up,” Azriel agreed.
Kieran frowned, but he supposed they might be right. It was getting late, his head was floating on a cloud, and Yonah was looking wobbly. Harper, too, but she had a stronger constitution.
“You two always kill the fun early,” Harper added with a pout and managed to right herself somehow. “But I guess I do have that test to study for, and Yonah needs her beauty sleep, or she'll wrinkle horridly, and Azriel probably has some long, long paper he wants to write to impress our instructors...” she trailed off, scratching at her chin.
Lyra blinked. “Yes, well, excluding that, it's quite obvious that some of us will require some escorts home.” She turned, and her gaze pinned Azriel down, much to Kieran's glee. “I nominate you as the handler of the drunken sot wobbling on his feet.”
Azriel blinked, glancing between Souya and Kieran. “Which one?”
Kieran wasn't sure if he intended it to be a joke or not. Either way, he burst into laughter, prompting a rise out of it around their crowded table. Souya guffawed, Harper snickered, and even Yonah's lips twitched.
Harper swayed over to Kieran and Souya, easily sliding herself between them. “This one’s yours, she said cheerfully and shoved Kieran in Azriel's direction.
He immediately stumbled. Luckily, Azriel was there to catch him, hands landing on Kieran's shoulders. Kieran beamed as he looked up at the older boy.
Azriel, however, appeared a little flummoxed. His eyes skipped to Lyra.
“I don't even live in Stonehaven. Can't you take him?”
“You don't want to take me home?” Kieran put in, his lower lip jutting out as he batted his eyes at Azriel.
The brunet sighed. “Didn't you say your mother baked you a cake?”
“I can eat it tomorrow,” Kieran said with a flippant wave, but the world did a little topsy-turvy shift that made him lean harder on Azriel.
“Besides, I can't carry both him and his presents,” Lyra replied, lifting up her arms to show the two heavy bags that she’d picked up. “Don't worry. I'll let Lady Azura know where he is.”
“And I have to take this one,” Yonah muttered with an imperious sniff directed at Harper, who was snuggled up on her with a hearty tint to her face.
Harper snorted. “You say that like it's a bad thing, cousin,” she retorted and then promptly giggled. “I'm hardly baggage.”
Souya shifted around to scratch the back of his head. “If you've got something else to do, I'll take him. My mum won't mind.”
Kieran pouted. Yes, this time he would admit it was a pout. He wanted to go to Azriel's house. Miss Neorah had promised him she'd make something good for dinner the next time he visited, so Kieran reasoned he'd get something extra special for his birthday. Besides, he still had plans for Azriel and was pretty sure that his best friend wouldn't agree to them in a public venue. Azriel was a very private person. Very stubborn. And serious. Frowny. Yeah, that one, too.
He curled his hand tighter around Azriel's arm. “Am I really that much of a burden?” Kieran questioned and used his most pitiful expression that was in his arsenal.
Azriel sagged. “That's not what I meant.” He shook his head. “It's all right, Tegan. I'll take him. He’ll probably be dead weight halfway to Moriarty anyway.”
Inwardly, Kieran cheered, only to realize seconds later that Azriel had insulted his ability to hold his liquor.
“Hey!” he argued stubbornly. “I'm not that drunk.”
Harper cackled. “Yeah, you are.”
“I'm not!”
“Are too!”
“Aren't!”
“And that's our cue to leave,” Lyra announced.
She was loud enough to be heard over the bickering duo who were attracting sizable attention from the other patrons of the bar. It was an Isley-owned pub, but that didn't mean they could act like a bunch of mannerless boors. Especially Harper.
Lyra hefted up the bags, which was no small feat, and tossed a grin Kieran's direction.
“Happy birthday. I'll see you later.”
Beaming, Kieran watched her go with a jaunty wave, still in glee over the special set of test tubes and beakers Lyra had bought him. Gwydion would certainly fawn over their unstained, unmarred surfaces, and Kieran already had ideas in mind for what he could use them for. His friends, they were the best!
“Yeah, happy birthday!” Harper threw her arms around his neck as she planted a wet kiss on his cheek. “See you on Monday.”
“Come on, Harper,” Yonah inserted, rolling her eyes as she tugged her cousin away from Kieran and Harper flopped onto her shoulder. “Don't strangle him.”
“I wasn't!” Harper argued, but she was grinning.
Kieran lifted his hand, waving both of them goodbye, as Yonah staggered, half-carrying Harper.
Souya turned to them then. He was steadier on his feet now. Almost standing completely straight.
“Are you sure you don't need any help?”
Kieran looked up at Azriel with pleading eyes, but the older boy merely shook his head. “I'm sure I can handle him. Thank you anyway.”
“No problem.” Souya shrugged and clapped Kieran on the shoulder, the side where he wasn't snuggled up to Azriel. “Happy birthday, Kieran. I'll tell Mum you liked the twists.”
Drooling a little in memory, Kieran nodded. “Thanks, Souya. See you later.”
Souya was gone with a wave, vanishing in a different direction than the girls had taken. Effectively leaving Kieran alone with Azriel, just like he wanted to be. He liked being with all his friends together, but sometimes, it was so hard to get Azriel to open up.
“All right,” Azriel said, adjusting Kieran's weight on his shoulder. “Let's go home before they throw us out.”
“They wouldn't do that,” Kieran insisted with a laugh and a grin, but he waved cheerily to the woman behind the counter and the two servers who had brought them drinks all day. He'd left a sizable money pouch on the table for them in thanks for the great service and for not getting irritated with the noise.
They left the pub and headed east, toward Azriel's house on the far side of Meropis, near the border of Grayshire and Moriarty. Though night had fallen, the walks were still crowded with people. It was the weekend, after all, and nobles were notorious for spending their free time as frivolously as possible. Kieran should know; he was one of those frivolous nobles.
“You know what I just realized?” he murmured then, a yawn cracking his jaw.
Azriel looked at him and his wobbly steps. “What?”
“You never gave me my birthday kiss,” his friend announced and glanced slyly in Azriel's direction.
The older boy had both eyebrows raised, brown eyes rich with confusion. “What birthday kiss?”
“The one everyone’s supposed to give me,” Kieran cheerfully answered, feeling dizzy and gratefully accepting the arm Azriel offered him once more. “Everyone else has.”
“Really?” Azriel sounded skeptical. “I didn't see this.”
Kieran grinned, mind helpfully supplying images.
“Got Harper first. She's fun like that. Then, I cornered Lyra by the bar.” He licked his lips in memory; they both had tasted sweet, like the fruit-laden drinks they were sipping. “I had to wait for Yonah to get tipsy before she'd even bend. She's so stiff sometimes.”
Azriel’s eyebrows had lifted nearly to his hairline. “And Tegan?”
“I told him he owed me one because he kissed you first.” Kieran glanced at Azriel, finding that this best friend managed to look simultaneously confused, surprised, and embarrassed.
That particular drunken kiss was probably labeled in a file that Azriel was desperately trying to forget. Though to be fair, Kieran had stolen one, too. Which was why he hoped to be given one. He had no specific reason why. The present Azriel had given him earlier was good enough, but Kieran had always been a bit greedy.
Besides, someone had to get Azriel out of his shell! And Kieran was more than happy to volunteer for that duty.
“I see...” the brunet said as they finally arrived at his house.
Judging by the light visible in the windows, Kieran assumed that Neorah was home. Though this late, she might’ve been sleeping.
He reached around, unlatched the gate to let them in, and closed it behind them. The younger teen wobbled toward the front door, but Azriel moved much faster and beat him there, pulling his key out of his pocket. He unlocked the door and gestured Kieran ahead of him into the dim hallway. Kieran waited for Azriel to relock the door, sliding out of his coat and knocking his boots against the mud block.
“So?” he prompted as Azriel unwound his bright scarf from his neck and shucked out of his own jacket.
Azriel shook his head, a small smile curling his lips. The sight of it felt like a victory to Kieran, as it always did every time he made Azriel truly smile.
“I suppose that it is your birthday,” he allowed and stepped closer.
Kieran immediately tilted his face up expectantly, inwardly cursing the few inches of height difference between them. He would grow, damn it. He would!
Kieran fully expected a kiss. What he got was a light peck on the lips that he barely felt much less tasted. It was a flutter, a brush of lips and not exactly what he had in mind.
He blinked and cocked his head to the side. “What was that?”
Adorably, Azriel's cheeks were starting to darken. “A kiss.”
“No,” Kieran huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “That's the way you greet your grandmother when your parents force you to come over,” he complained. “Am I that bad? That unkissable?”
“That’s not even a word,” Azriel commented, but at Kieran’s pout, he sighed. He really didn’t want to be having this conversation. Ever. “No,” he bit out.
“Then I think I deserve a proper kiss,” Kieran declared and then nodded to himself.
It was Azriel's turn to blink. “A proper kiss?”
Kieran always thought things were better shown than explained, especially in this case. He reached up, cupped Azriel's face with his palms, and brought their mouths together in a yummy blend of lips and tongue. It was painfully obvious that Azriel had never really kissed before – except those stolen ones no doubt – and Kieran decided to fix that immediately with a lesson here and now. Azriel could only benefit from his tutelage.
Pressing their mouths together, Kieran's tongue slipped out, teasing at the seam of Azriel's lips He just wanted a taste, a quick one, then he'd be satisfied. Azriel hadn't drunk like the rest of them, but he'd sipped on something all evening. He tasted like it, a bit sweet and a bit sour all at once, like lemons and peach. Kieran had no idea what it was, but maybe next time, he'd need to try.
Azriel made an odd noise in his throat, and Kieran expected him to pull away, but he didn't. One hand lifted, grasping onto the side of Kieran's tunic, and didn't let go. Their bodies came together, weirdly in sync but oddly all the better for it.
There was something strangely satisfying about kissing Azriel, and Kieran wondered what that said about him. Kissing Souya and Lyra and Yonah was all about fun and teasing. Harper was good for making him blush, for pointedly making others blush as well. But Kieran liked kissing Azriel the most, though this was only the second time.
Maybe it was the alcohol, or the way Azriel always smelled good, or the enticing tremors of his aether. Kieran didn't know. He just wanted to press closer, to taste more, and make it count.
Yeah. It definitely had to be the Rozlin.
Kieran ended the kiss, surprising himself with his own reluctance. He felt a little warm as he idly ran his tongue over his lips.
Azriel was looking at him in a strange sort of way. As though Kieran was suddenly a new, unusual beast that he had to figure out.
“Satisfied?” he asked, though his voice lacked the teasing edge, more quiet and soft.
“Very.” Kieran put some much needed distance between them, his head spinning as he turned to look around pointedly. “Where's Miss Neorah?”
“Probably in the kitchen,” Azriel answered, sounding distracted.
All Kieran had needed was a direction. He wobbled down a hallway he'd come to know as well as his own home and headed for the kitchen. Azriel was correct. Miss Neorah was there at the table, a flowery teacup by her left hand as she focused on a book set out at her right.
She looked up as Kieran appeared in the doorway and flashed him a soft smile. “Hello, dear. Did you have fun at your party?”
“I did,” he said and hoped that the flush of alcohol in his cheeks wasn't too obvious. “I badgered Azriel into letting me stay here tonight.”
Neorah chuckled, sliding an unused napkin between the pages to serve as a bookmark. “I doubt you had to use much persuasion. My son has a soft spot when it comes to you.”
“Mother,” Azriel sighed as he appeared behind Kieran, probably shooting her a warning look. “Why aren't you asleep yet?”
Neorah raised her eyebrows. “I wasn't aware that I had a bedtime, my son,” she responded with a wink Kieran's direction, before rising to her feet and taking her cup in hand. “But I'll retire to my bedroom if you so wish for privacy.”
“That's not what I meant,” Azriel countered, and this time, he sounded contrite. “I thought you had an early shift is all.”
Neorah smiled as she turned to set the cup and saucer in the sink. “I know. I was teasing. And happy birthday, Kieran, by the way. I should have said so sooner.”
Kieran felt himself flush to the tips of his ears. “Thanks!”
Hands landed on Kieran's shoulders, clearly trying to steer him back toward the hallway. “Goodnight,” Azriel called back, all but pushing Kieran now.
“Goodnight, boys,” Miss Neorah replied.
Kieran didn't have time to so much as wave before Azriel half-tugged, half-hauled him toward the bedroom.
The younger boy huffed. “One of these days, we're going to talk, and you won't be to stop us.”
“I dread that day,” Azriel commented drolly.
Kieran retaliated by leaning far to the side, throwing his weight on Azriel. The other teen grunted but didn't protest the addition. He hauled Kieran the last few steps down the hallway and pushed open the door into a dim room lit by a couple of candles – probably Miss Neorah's doing. They had such a great relationship; Kieran envied them for that closeness.
Azriel dumped him on the bed, but when he reached for Kieran's clothes, the younger boy rolled his eyes and reached for his own tunic.
“I can do that, Azriel. I'm not a child.”
“The facts speak otherwise,” his friend shot back and turned toward his wardrobe, pulling out a set of clothes. “Here. Put these on. I'll be back in a moment.”
Shaking his head, Kieran laughed to himself and quickly changed into the pajamas that Azriel had given him. He lifted his hand, getting a sniff of the sleeve. They smelled like sunshine and herbs, whatever Neorah used for the laundry. They smelled like Azriel and this house.
“Do they fit?” Azriel reappeared in the doorway, carrying something else.
“Close enough,” Kieran answered and then looked eagerly at the wrapped package. “What’s that?”
Azriel smiled. “Like a kid at Yule.” He handed it over, looking carefully at his wall. “This is your real present. The other was just a stand in.”
“Real present?” Kieran perked up. It felt like a book beneath the nondescript paper wrapping.
His fingers eagerly plucked open the twine and pulled the paper apart. It looked like a journal, bound by hand, nothing written on the cover. Curious, Kieran opened to the first page, and his jaw dropped. There was writing inside but not print like a book store. This was Azriel's handwriting.
His eyes skimmed the first page. It appeared to be a story of some kind, a tale about a god whose name wasn't immediately familiar. It took him a minute to realize that they were legends of the old gods, the sort of thing that would get them imprisoned just for having.
Kieran flipped through the pages. There were at least a dozen stories in here. Enough to keep him interested for months.
He looked up. Azriel was shifting around, as though anxiously waiting for his response.
“It's great,” he said, lovingly closing the book and running his fingers over the soft leather of the cover. “Thank you.”
“You're welcome.” He made shooing motions toward the bed. “Now go to sleep. Mama's cooking breakfast in the morning.”
Kieran beamed as he carefully set the book onto his messy stack of clothes. “Pancakes?”
“Pancakes,” Azriel confirmed.
Kieran resisted the urge to cheer and then peeled back the blankets, only to pause. “Hey, wait a minute. I can't take the bed. Where are you going to sleep?”
“I'm not making a guest sleep on the floor.” Azriel sounded horrified at the mere thought of it.
Kieran patted the mattress. “Then share it with me.”
“It's not big enough.”
Shaking his head, Kieran resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “We've got to get you a bigger bed. Otherwise, where are your girlfriends going to sleep?”
Azriel snorted, pausing in the doorway. “Go to sleep, Kieran.”
“Fine.” He scooted down in the bed, pulling the covers up to his nose. “Hey, wait.”
“Yes?”
“When's your birthday?” Kieran asked, fighting back another yawn. Alcohol made him sleepy sometimes. “We have to celebrate.”
Azriel shook his head. “September.”
“What? I missed it?” Scowling, Kieran's lips pursed with disappointment.
Leaning against the doorjamb, Azriel crossed his arms. “To be fair, I was still trying to avoid you then.”
Kieran's frown faded into a sunny grin. “You're not avoiding me now.”
He couldn't hide his glee at that fact. He'd finally won Azriel over! And he was certainly glad he did.
Azriel shook his head again. “No, I'm not,” he agreed, and an almost-fond smile touched his lips. “Goodnight, Kieran.”
“Goodnight.”
Azriel waved a hand, and the candles in the room snuffed out just that quickly and with small, precise puffs of air that were a testament to Azriel's control. He closed the door behind him, leaving Kieran alone in the room.
He snuggled down in the blankets, sinking into soft comfort that smelled like Azriel. One hand lifted, fingers touching his lips, and Kieran grinned to himself. In all his seventeen years, this had to have been the best birthday ever.
*****
a/n: More fun times to come, along with a touch of angst, and some progression of plot and hints of the future. I do hope you enjoyed!
Feedback is always welcome and appreciated!
azardarkstar for the beta work! Title: The Break of Day
Series: Infinity's End, Prequel
Summary: A friendship that takes everyone by surprise slowly evolves into a deeper bond as Azriel, illegitimate son of the house Celestine, and Kieran, heir to the house Azura, throw themselves into the heart of a building altercation that explodes into an all out revolution.
(1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) (9) (10) (11) (12) (13) (14) (15) (16) (17) (18) (19) (20)
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Part One: Chapter Nine
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Part One: Chapter Nine
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January 1st, 1979
“Happy New Year!”
Azriel blinked as what appeared to be brightly colored bits of paper fell down over his head in a little rain and Kieran's cheerful greeting blasted over his face. Honestly, that wasn’t what he expected upon opening his door. In fact, Azriel had plans to meet his uncles for dinner in a little under an hour, so he hadn’t expected anyone to be stopping by.
Azriel's brow furrowed. “And the same to you,” he said as Kieran's arms gradually lowered and the last bits of his confetti fluttered to the ground. “Did I miss something?”
“No. I just figured since you weren't working, you were free,” Kieran said with one of his sparkling grins as Azriel stepped aside and let Kieran enter the house. “Maybe you have some special celebration or something?”
Azriel closed the door with a quiet click. “You mean, like Samhain?”
“Yes.”
“No. Not really.” He followed Kieran as he made his way to the den, easy for him to find since he had come to know his way around Azriel's house as though it were his own. “Why?”
Kieran shrugged, pausing in the doorway. “I thought it’d be interesting to watch again. But since you're not... Want to sneak into Moriarty? Souya told me that a lot of the shops are offering free samples in celebration!” He practically drooled at the thought.
The older boy internally winced. He’d have to turn Kieran down and gently, too. Kieran always pouted when things didn't go his way. He'd put on that puppy-ish expression that tended to make Azriel give in every time.
“Putting aside the fact it’d probably anger your father,” the brunet began, “I won't be able to accompany you.”
Kieran’s jaw all but dropped. “You have other plans?”
“Is that so hard to believe?”
“No...” Kieran trailed off and then reached up, brushing bits of confetti from Azriel's hair. “Where's Neorah today?”
“Working,” Azriel explained and batted away the hand on his head. “So you can't stay here and plot things behind my back.”
The corner of Kieran's lip curled into a smirk. “Just ruin all my plans why don't you?” His eyes skipped over Azriel, noting his half-dressed, somewhat disheveled state. “Oh, and by plans, you mean soon, don't you?”
“Yes,” Azriel replied shortly and took a step back. “Where are the others? I thought you'd want to skip around Moriarty with Tegan.”
Kieran grinned, sliding back out of the doorway and to the hallway. Apparently, he wasn't going to stick around.
“He's still hiding from you, refused to even come here.” He chuckled. “And the others have various excuses.”
“Ah, so I'm a last resort?” the brunet questioned, though his tone was amused more than anything. “I feel touched.”
“You know it wasn't like that,” Kieran shot back, edging back toward the front door. “What big plans do you have today anyway? It can't be half as fun as free treats in Moriarty.” He made a face. “I'll bet you’re going to work just to spite me.”
Azriel smirked at Kieran's sulky expression. “As a matter of fact, I’m not. Lord Adair wouldn’t allow it.”
“Good for him then.” His friend gave a small laugh. “Someday, I'm going to have to thank him personally.”
“For what?” Azriel asked, reaching for the door handle as he angled himself to face Kieran.
The younger boy grinned brightly. “For making sure you don't drown yourself in a boring life,” he quipped as Azriel opened the door for him.
Laughter alerted Azriel to the fact their conversation had been witnessed, and when he looked, he saw both his uncles standing in front of the door. Adair even had his hand raised, as though ready to knock.
One brown eyebrow lifted curiously. “Good afternoon, nephew,” Lord Adair greeted, and his eyes skipped to Kieran. “Is this the infamous Kieran I've heard so much about then?”
Azriel, for his part, knew that heat had crawled into his cheeks. Kieran, displaying his usual lack of shame, grinned cheekily and dipped his head in a shallow greeting.
“Indeed, Lord Adair. A pleasure to meet you at last. Azriel talks about you all the time,” he replied with a perfectly polite tone that Lord Azura must have ingrained in him. Kieran looked past Adair. “Good day to you as well, Lord Aidan.”
Both of his uncles were incredibly amused. At his expense, Azriel was sure. But he bit back a sigh and shifted his eyes back toward Adair.
“I thought I was going to meet you,” he said, unable to stomach the rumors that would probably arise at the sight of the two lords fetching their unaccepted nephew from the wrong side of the fence.
“Yes, well, we were hoping to give our New Year’s regards to Miss Neorah,” Aidan said, but there was amusement in his tone as his eyes cut to his brother, who coughed into his sleeve and shifted uneasily.
Azriel inclined his head. “I see. Mother's at the clinic this evening. She'll be sorry she missed your visit.”
Adair seemed rather disappointed as he swept a hand over his carefully arranged hair. “I regret missing her as well.”
“Aside from that, you’re ready to leave, aren't you, nephew?” Aidan inserted, looking more and more amused by the moment. Azriel suspected this was some sort of inside joke between the brothers, but he’d rather not know.
“Ah, that would also be my cue to make my escape,” Kieran inserted then, edging out of the doorway in a bid for freedom. “I'm in the way.”
“On the contrary,” Adair corrected, clearing his throat as he visibly found his composure. “Would you be interested in joining us? We're just taking our nephew out for dinner.”
Once again, Azriel swore that Kieran perked up like an excitable dog. Eyes lighting up and invisible tail wagging happily. But it drooped a bit as he reconsidered.
“Are you sure I wouldn't be interrupting?” he asked in a voice that was almost painfully hopeful.
“Not at all,” Aidan assured before Azriel could get a word in edgewise. “The more the merrier. We’re always interested in meeting our nephew's friends.”
Somehow, Azriel thought this might be a bad idea for his sanity. Kieran and his mother were already plotting together. The last thing Azriel needed was for his uncles to recruit Kieran in their schemes as well. He'd never escape.
“With that said, you ought finished getting dressed, nephew,” Adair commented, gaze sweeping Azriel from head to toe and taking in the fact he wasn't fully prepared.
Azriel flushed, restraining himself from tugging self-consciously on the wrinkled shirt he'd thrown on when he first heard the knocking. He made his excuses and hurried down the hallway, leaving Kieran with his two uncles, unable to shake the feeling that it was a very bad idea to do so.
His mother's influence was bad enough. Azriel was certain that his rule-breaking uncles were interested in recruiting Kieran for their plots as well.
Azriel dressed in a rush, sliding into a pair of trousers and putting on a new shirt that still had creases. He tugged on his heavy cloak and slid into fur-lined boots, well aware of the snow that still blanketed the ground in a chilly layer. Thus appropriately dressed, Azriel checked the appearance of his hair in the mirror, and deemed it acceptable for public view. Aidan and Adair weren't expecting dinner at a fancy, well-known eatery, but it was better to look his best. If there was one thing Azriel refused to do, it was embarrass or shame his uncles.
The sound of laughter floated to his ears, and a bit concerned for his own safety, Azriel hurried out of his room and back down the hallway. Kaiyu knows what kind of nefarious plots the three were already crafting.
Kieran arched a brow as Azriel half-slid into view. “Something chasing you?” he quipped.
“No,” Azriel said carefully, and chewing on the inside of his cheek, he inclined his head. “Shall we leave then? If I know one thing, it's that Kieran is hungry.”
“Always,” the Azura heir agreed with a faint cheer. “What did you have in mind, Lords Celestine?”
“Please, Kieran. You are welcome to call us by our names,” Adair said, holding up a hand to stop any more overly polite conversation. “Any friend that our nephew claims is welcome to that.”
Kieran beamed at the invitation, and Azriel was suddenly glad that he’d been invited along. It seemed to make him happy, and well, Azriel would admit – if only to himself – that he enjoyed seeing Kieran smile. Such a simple thing, really.
“Let's go,” Azriel ushered everyone out the door so he could pull it shut behind him. “Let your goal of embarrassing me begin.”
When both his uncles and Kieran gave him identical, mischievous looks, Azriel was certain he was in for a long, humiliating night.
February 14th, 1979
Kieran was warm, happy, giddy even. And maybe a little drunk. The bottle of Rozlin that Harper had given him was delicious, heating him from head to toe as it sloshed around in his belly along with the food and the bag of cookies from Iris' bakery that Souya had bought him.
This had to be his best birthday ever. All of his friends were here, he had loads of presents, and his mom had even made him a cake all his own. Things honestly couldn't get any better.
“Here, have some more,” Lyra said with a yawn, pushing another cup his direction.
Kieran reached for it, but another hand appeared in his vision, easily sweeping it out of his reach.
“I think he's had enough,” Azriel put in as he whisked it away.
Something akin to a puppy-like whimper arose in Kieran's throat. “But--”
“Awww, Azriel, you're such a spoilsport,” Harper drawled, but she swayed unsteadily on her stool.
Kieran giggled. Actually giggled.
Azriel raised his brow pointedly. “If I must be the adult of this group, then so be it. None of you should be drinking in the first place.”
Yonah nodded sagely, fingers curled around her second glass of white wine. “But it's a special occasion.”
“One that's reached its end,” Azriel commented with a look at wobbly Harper, grinning Souya, sleepy Lyra, and pink-cheeked Yonah.
Kieran frowned, though it was closer to a pout. “So soon?” he asked and attempted to stand, but the moment his feet hit the floor, the whole room spun.
Souya was there in a second, wavering on his feet, and the two of them struggled to keep each other upright, much to their own amusement.
“I think I'll agree with Azriel,” Lyra commented, stirring from a sleepy stupor. “At this rate, none of us will get home under our power.”
“Some of us won't be anyway,” Yonah inserted, and she watched as Harper tipped out of her stool and made a clumsy attempt at standing. “Especially that one.” Her eyes swung toward Kieran who grinned sloppily.
“I'm fine,” he said, waving a hand of dismissal and leaning a bit to the right. Souya though leaned a bit to the left, and they staggered in opposite directions.
Where was that mug of ale again?
“Definitely time to pack it up,” Azriel agreed.
Kieran frowned, but he supposed they might be right. It was getting late, his head was floating on a cloud, and Yonah was looking wobbly. Harper, too, but she had a stronger constitution.
“You two always kill the fun early,” Harper added with a pout and managed to right herself somehow. “But I guess I do have that test to study for, and Yonah needs her beauty sleep, or she'll wrinkle horridly, and Azriel probably has some long, long paper he wants to write to impress our instructors...” she trailed off, scratching at her chin.
Lyra blinked. “Yes, well, excluding that, it's quite obvious that some of us will require some escorts home.” She turned, and her gaze pinned Azriel down, much to Kieran's glee. “I nominate you as the handler of the drunken sot wobbling on his feet.”
Azriel blinked, glancing between Souya and Kieran. “Which one?”
Kieran wasn't sure if he intended it to be a joke or not. Either way, he burst into laughter, prompting a rise out of it around their crowded table. Souya guffawed, Harper snickered, and even Yonah's lips twitched.
Harper swayed over to Kieran and Souya, easily sliding herself between them. “This one’s yours, she said cheerfully and shoved Kieran in Azriel's direction.
He immediately stumbled. Luckily, Azriel was there to catch him, hands landing on Kieran's shoulders. Kieran beamed as he looked up at the older boy.
Azriel, however, appeared a little flummoxed. His eyes skipped to Lyra.
“I don't even live in Stonehaven. Can't you take him?”
“You don't want to take me home?” Kieran put in, his lower lip jutting out as he batted his eyes at Azriel.
The brunet sighed. “Didn't you say your mother baked you a cake?”
“I can eat it tomorrow,” Kieran said with a flippant wave, but the world did a little topsy-turvy shift that made him lean harder on Azriel.
“Besides, I can't carry both him and his presents,” Lyra replied, lifting up her arms to show the two heavy bags that she’d picked up. “Don't worry. I'll let Lady Azura know where he is.”
“And I have to take this one,” Yonah muttered with an imperious sniff directed at Harper, who was snuggled up on her with a hearty tint to her face.
Harper snorted. “You say that like it's a bad thing, cousin,” she retorted and then promptly giggled. “I'm hardly baggage.”
Souya shifted around to scratch the back of his head. “If you've got something else to do, I'll take him. My mum won't mind.”
Kieran pouted. Yes, this time he would admit it was a pout. He wanted to go to Azriel's house. Miss Neorah had promised him she'd make something good for dinner the next time he visited, so Kieran reasoned he'd get something extra special for his birthday. Besides, he still had plans for Azriel and was pretty sure that his best friend wouldn't agree to them in a public venue. Azriel was a very private person. Very stubborn. And serious. Frowny. Yeah, that one, too.
He curled his hand tighter around Azriel's arm. “Am I really that much of a burden?” Kieran questioned and used his most pitiful expression that was in his arsenal.
Azriel sagged. “That's not what I meant.” He shook his head. “It's all right, Tegan. I'll take him. He’ll probably be dead weight halfway to Moriarty anyway.”
Inwardly, Kieran cheered, only to realize seconds later that Azriel had insulted his ability to hold his liquor.
“Hey!” he argued stubbornly. “I'm not that drunk.”
Harper cackled. “Yeah, you are.”
“I'm not!”
“Are too!”
“Aren't!”
“And that's our cue to leave,” Lyra announced.
She was loud enough to be heard over the bickering duo who were attracting sizable attention from the other patrons of the bar. It was an Isley-owned pub, but that didn't mean they could act like a bunch of mannerless boors. Especially Harper.
Lyra hefted up the bags, which was no small feat, and tossed a grin Kieran's direction.
“Happy birthday. I'll see you later.”
Beaming, Kieran watched her go with a jaunty wave, still in glee over the special set of test tubes and beakers Lyra had bought him. Gwydion would certainly fawn over their unstained, unmarred surfaces, and Kieran already had ideas in mind for what he could use them for. His friends, they were the best!
“Yeah, happy birthday!” Harper threw her arms around his neck as she planted a wet kiss on his cheek. “See you on Monday.”
“Come on, Harper,” Yonah inserted, rolling her eyes as she tugged her cousin away from Kieran and Harper flopped onto her shoulder. “Don't strangle him.”
“I wasn't!” Harper argued, but she was grinning.
Kieran lifted his hand, waving both of them goodbye, as Yonah staggered, half-carrying Harper.
Souya turned to them then. He was steadier on his feet now. Almost standing completely straight.
“Are you sure you don't need any help?”
Kieran looked up at Azriel with pleading eyes, but the older boy merely shook his head. “I'm sure I can handle him. Thank you anyway.”
“No problem.” Souya shrugged and clapped Kieran on the shoulder, the side where he wasn't snuggled up to Azriel. “Happy birthday, Kieran. I'll tell Mum you liked the twists.”
Drooling a little in memory, Kieran nodded. “Thanks, Souya. See you later.”
Souya was gone with a wave, vanishing in a different direction than the girls had taken. Effectively leaving Kieran alone with Azriel, just like he wanted to be. He liked being with all his friends together, but sometimes, it was so hard to get Azriel to open up.
“All right,” Azriel said, adjusting Kieran's weight on his shoulder. “Let's go home before they throw us out.”
“They wouldn't do that,” Kieran insisted with a laugh and a grin, but he waved cheerily to the woman behind the counter and the two servers who had brought them drinks all day. He'd left a sizable money pouch on the table for them in thanks for the great service and for not getting irritated with the noise.
They left the pub and headed east, toward Azriel's house on the far side of Meropis, near the border of Grayshire and Moriarty. Though night had fallen, the walks were still crowded with people. It was the weekend, after all, and nobles were notorious for spending their free time as frivolously as possible. Kieran should know; he was one of those frivolous nobles.
“You know what I just realized?” he murmured then, a yawn cracking his jaw.
Azriel looked at him and his wobbly steps. “What?”
“You never gave me my birthday kiss,” his friend announced and glanced slyly in Azriel's direction.
The older boy had both eyebrows raised, brown eyes rich with confusion. “What birthday kiss?”
“The one everyone’s supposed to give me,” Kieran cheerfully answered, feeling dizzy and gratefully accepting the arm Azriel offered him once more. “Everyone else has.”
“Really?” Azriel sounded skeptical. “I didn't see this.”
Kieran grinned, mind helpfully supplying images.
“Got Harper first. She's fun like that. Then, I cornered Lyra by the bar.” He licked his lips in memory; they both had tasted sweet, like the fruit-laden drinks they were sipping. “I had to wait for Yonah to get tipsy before she'd even bend. She's so stiff sometimes.”
Azriel’s eyebrows had lifted nearly to his hairline. “And Tegan?”
“I told him he owed me one because he kissed you first.” Kieran glanced at Azriel, finding that this best friend managed to look simultaneously confused, surprised, and embarrassed.
That particular drunken kiss was probably labeled in a file that Azriel was desperately trying to forget. Though to be fair, Kieran had stolen one, too. Which was why he hoped to be given one. He had no specific reason why. The present Azriel had given him earlier was good enough, but Kieran had always been a bit greedy.
Besides, someone had to get Azriel out of his shell! And Kieran was more than happy to volunteer for that duty.
“I see...” the brunet said as they finally arrived at his house.
Judging by the light visible in the windows, Kieran assumed that Neorah was home. Though this late, she might’ve been sleeping.
He reached around, unlatched the gate to let them in, and closed it behind them. The younger teen wobbled toward the front door, but Azriel moved much faster and beat him there, pulling his key out of his pocket. He unlocked the door and gestured Kieran ahead of him into the dim hallway. Kieran waited for Azriel to relock the door, sliding out of his coat and knocking his boots against the mud block.
“So?” he prompted as Azriel unwound his bright scarf from his neck and shucked out of his own jacket.
Azriel shook his head, a small smile curling his lips. The sight of it felt like a victory to Kieran, as it always did every time he made Azriel truly smile.
“I suppose that it is your birthday,” he allowed and stepped closer.
Kieran immediately tilted his face up expectantly, inwardly cursing the few inches of height difference between them. He would grow, damn it. He would!
Kieran fully expected a kiss. What he got was a light peck on the lips that he barely felt much less tasted. It was a flutter, a brush of lips and not exactly what he had in mind.
He blinked and cocked his head to the side. “What was that?”
Adorably, Azriel's cheeks were starting to darken. “A kiss.”
“No,” Kieran huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “That's the way you greet your grandmother when your parents force you to come over,” he complained. “Am I that bad? That unkissable?”
“That’s not even a word,” Azriel commented, but at Kieran’s pout, he sighed. He really didn’t want to be having this conversation. Ever. “No,” he bit out.
“Then I think I deserve a proper kiss,” Kieran declared and then nodded to himself.
It was Azriel's turn to blink. “A proper kiss?”
Kieran always thought things were better shown than explained, especially in this case. He reached up, cupped Azriel's face with his palms, and brought their mouths together in a yummy blend of lips and tongue. It was painfully obvious that Azriel had never really kissed before – except those stolen ones no doubt – and Kieran decided to fix that immediately with a lesson here and now. Azriel could only benefit from his tutelage.
Pressing their mouths together, Kieran's tongue slipped out, teasing at the seam of Azriel's lips He just wanted a taste, a quick one, then he'd be satisfied. Azriel hadn't drunk like the rest of them, but he'd sipped on something all evening. He tasted like it, a bit sweet and a bit sour all at once, like lemons and peach. Kieran had no idea what it was, but maybe next time, he'd need to try.
Azriel made an odd noise in his throat, and Kieran expected him to pull away, but he didn't. One hand lifted, grasping onto the side of Kieran's tunic, and didn't let go. Their bodies came together, weirdly in sync but oddly all the better for it.
There was something strangely satisfying about kissing Azriel, and Kieran wondered what that said about him. Kissing Souya and Lyra and Yonah was all about fun and teasing. Harper was good for making him blush, for pointedly making others blush as well. But Kieran liked kissing Azriel the most, though this was only the second time.
Maybe it was the alcohol, or the way Azriel always smelled good, or the enticing tremors of his aether. Kieran didn't know. He just wanted to press closer, to taste more, and make it count.
Yeah. It definitely had to be the Rozlin.
Kieran ended the kiss, surprising himself with his own reluctance. He felt a little warm as he idly ran his tongue over his lips.
Azriel was looking at him in a strange sort of way. As though Kieran was suddenly a new, unusual beast that he had to figure out.
“Satisfied?” he asked, though his voice lacked the teasing edge, more quiet and soft.
“Very.” Kieran put some much needed distance between them, his head spinning as he turned to look around pointedly. “Where's Miss Neorah?”
“Probably in the kitchen,” Azriel answered, sounding distracted.
All Kieran had needed was a direction. He wobbled down a hallway he'd come to know as well as his own home and headed for the kitchen. Azriel was correct. Miss Neorah was there at the table, a flowery teacup by her left hand as she focused on a book set out at her right.
She looked up as Kieran appeared in the doorway and flashed him a soft smile. “Hello, dear. Did you have fun at your party?”
“I did,” he said and hoped that the flush of alcohol in his cheeks wasn't too obvious. “I badgered Azriel into letting me stay here tonight.”
Neorah chuckled, sliding an unused napkin between the pages to serve as a bookmark. “I doubt you had to use much persuasion. My son has a soft spot when it comes to you.”
“Mother,” Azriel sighed as he appeared behind Kieran, probably shooting her a warning look. “Why aren't you asleep yet?”
Neorah raised her eyebrows. “I wasn't aware that I had a bedtime, my son,” she responded with a wink Kieran's direction, before rising to her feet and taking her cup in hand. “But I'll retire to my bedroom if you so wish for privacy.”
“That's not what I meant,” Azriel countered, and this time, he sounded contrite. “I thought you had an early shift is all.”
Neorah smiled as she turned to set the cup and saucer in the sink. “I know. I was teasing. And happy birthday, Kieran, by the way. I should have said so sooner.”
Kieran felt himself flush to the tips of his ears. “Thanks!”
Hands landed on Kieran's shoulders, clearly trying to steer him back toward the hallway. “Goodnight,” Azriel called back, all but pushing Kieran now.
“Goodnight, boys,” Miss Neorah replied.
Kieran didn't have time to so much as wave before Azriel half-tugged, half-hauled him toward the bedroom.
The younger boy huffed. “One of these days, we're going to talk, and you won't be to stop us.”
“I dread that day,” Azriel commented drolly.
Kieran retaliated by leaning far to the side, throwing his weight on Azriel. The other teen grunted but didn't protest the addition. He hauled Kieran the last few steps down the hallway and pushed open the door into a dim room lit by a couple of candles – probably Miss Neorah's doing. They had such a great relationship; Kieran envied them for that closeness.
Azriel dumped him on the bed, but when he reached for Kieran's clothes, the younger boy rolled his eyes and reached for his own tunic.
“I can do that, Azriel. I'm not a child.”
“The facts speak otherwise,” his friend shot back and turned toward his wardrobe, pulling out a set of clothes. “Here. Put these on. I'll be back in a moment.”
Shaking his head, Kieran laughed to himself and quickly changed into the pajamas that Azriel had given him. He lifted his hand, getting a sniff of the sleeve. They smelled like sunshine and herbs, whatever Neorah used for the laundry. They smelled like Azriel and this house.
“Do they fit?” Azriel reappeared in the doorway, carrying something else.
“Close enough,” Kieran answered and then looked eagerly at the wrapped package. “What’s that?”
Azriel smiled. “Like a kid at Yule.” He handed it over, looking carefully at his wall. “This is your real present. The other was just a stand in.”
“Real present?” Kieran perked up. It felt like a book beneath the nondescript paper wrapping.
His fingers eagerly plucked open the twine and pulled the paper apart. It looked like a journal, bound by hand, nothing written on the cover. Curious, Kieran opened to the first page, and his jaw dropped. There was writing inside but not print like a book store. This was Azriel's handwriting.
His eyes skimmed the first page. It appeared to be a story of some kind, a tale about a god whose name wasn't immediately familiar. It took him a minute to realize that they were legends of the old gods, the sort of thing that would get them imprisoned just for having.
Kieran flipped through the pages. There were at least a dozen stories in here. Enough to keep him interested for months.
He looked up. Azriel was shifting around, as though anxiously waiting for his response.
“It's great,” he said, lovingly closing the book and running his fingers over the soft leather of the cover. “Thank you.”
“You're welcome.” He made shooing motions toward the bed. “Now go to sleep. Mama's cooking breakfast in the morning.”
Kieran beamed as he carefully set the book onto his messy stack of clothes. “Pancakes?”
“Pancakes,” Azriel confirmed.
Kieran resisted the urge to cheer and then peeled back the blankets, only to pause. “Hey, wait a minute. I can't take the bed. Where are you going to sleep?”
“I'm not making a guest sleep on the floor.” Azriel sounded horrified at the mere thought of it.
Kieran patted the mattress. “Then share it with me.”
“It's not big enough.”
Shaking his head, Kieran resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “We've got to get you a bigger bed. Otherwise, where are your girlfriends going to sleep?”
Azriel snorted, pausing in the doorway. “Go to sleep, Kieran.”
“Fine.” He scooted down in the bed, pulling the covers up to his nose. “Hey, wait.”
“Yes?”
“When's your birthday?” Kieran asked, fighting back another yawn. Alcohol made him sleepy sometimes. “We have to celebrate.”
Azriel shook his head. “September.”
“What? I missed it?” Scowling, Kieran's lips pursed with disappointment.
Leaning against the doorjamb, Azriel crossed his arms. “To be fair, I was still trying to avoid you then.”
Kieran's frown faded into a sunny grin. “You're not avoiding me now.”
He couldn't hide his glee at that fact. He'd finally won Azriel over! And he was certainly glad he did.
Azriel shook his head again. “No, I'm not,” he agreed, and an almost-fond smile touched his lips. “Goodnight, Kieran.”
“Goodnight.”
Azriel waved a hand, and the candles in the room snuffed out just that quickly and with small, precise puffs of air that were a testament to Azriel's control. He closed the door behind him, leaving Kieran alone in the room.
He snuggled down in the blankets, sinking into soft comfort that smelled like Azriel. One hand lifted, fingers touching his lips, and Kieran grinned to himself. In all his seventeen years, this had to have been the best birthday ever.
a/n: More fun times to come, along with a touch of angst, and some progression of plot and hints of the future. I do hope you enjoyed!
Feedback is always welcome and appreciated!
