| Subject: Meet the parent (correct version) |
Author:
Tristan
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Date Posted: 12:19:06 06/24/02 Mon
Nicholaus had made several attempts to wiggle out of Tristan’s lap, but he held him absently there, a lost look planted on his face. By the time the food came, he’d told his father the little boy’s background as briefly as he could, stressing the entire time that his sudden appearance into their lives did NOT mean that he and Marz were settling down and starting a family together. Unfortunately, he did let slip that they were currently building a house, although he immediately followed up that little mistake by insisting that it was mostly for Nicholaus’ benefit.
“Marz says he can’t grow up in a tavern,” he concluded, shrugging innocently.
“Oh, no,” Adonis answered amiably enough. “A tavern is no place for a child.” His plate was halfway empty, while Tristan’s hadn’t yet been touched. The little bit of eggs and glass of orange juice they’d ordered for Nicholaus sat beside Tristan’s food, getting cold as well. Marz’s son struggled some more, but his captor’s arms tightened around him again without even realizing it.
Tristan spotted Dalo entering the common room from the stairs above, but before he could smile at the beastmaster, he’d already turned away. His smile turned to a scowl, especially when he noticed the girl tagging along beside him. The bitch had growled at him earlier, if he recalled correctly. That made him think of Naiomi, and he smirked. Looked like Dalo was still getting off on the same thing.
Of course, he himself was hardly human, but he didn’t pause to consider that part. He and Marz were naturally perfect together, so the thought didn’t even cross his mind that Dalo and Marz, two diehard enemies, had seemingly chosen the same sort of bedmate at one point in time.
“Good morning!” Tia said, her sudden appearance startling him a bit. Nicholaus immediately piped up and introduced her to Adonis, who smiled a charming smile before nodding his head politely at her.
“I'm hungry.” Nicholaus twisted in his lap to stare up at him, melting him on the spot as planned. “Can I eat my food now or do I gotta wait for my dad to get here?”
“Here,” Tristan muttered, pulling the eggs and orange juice closer so the boy could eat. I’m such a pansy now, he thought irritably. He could handle being stupid in love with someone, but doting on that same someone’s adorable little kid was a bit too much.
“It's nice to meet you," Tia was saying to his father. "My name is Tia and I consider myself a good friend of Tristan's.”
Tristan didn’t blush, but he came close. He cleared his throat awkwardly and shifted a little so that Nicholaus could sit beside him. The boy had decided it would be fun to mix his eggs with some of the biscuit sauce in Adonis’s plate. The wizard seemed amused by his attempts, but Tristan wasn’t too thrilled about having biscuit sauce smeared all over the front of his shirt at the moment.
“Yes, I know,” Adonis said to Tia, drawing a puzzled look from her. Tristan sighed and tried to look away while rolling his eyes. “You’ve been very kind to him. So happy to finally meet you in person, my dear.”
His father reached over and took her hand in his, bringing it to his lips to kiss her knuckles in the fashion of a kindly older gentleman. Tristan knew Tia had a bit of a chip on her shoulders when it came to being noticed, so he couldn’t help smiling slightly at the appreciative gleam in her violet eyes.
“Father, have you been spying on me again?” he asked, trying to force the smile away. Adonis’ answering expression was typically blank. He was currently now preoccupied with entertaining Nicholaus by bringing little illusions to life on the tabletop. Two tiny knights were jousting at the moment, their tiny voices throwing medieval insults at one another as their swords clashed.
“Spying?” he said mildly, returning to his food. The knights were still fighting. One of them poked the other in his tiny steal bottom, causing Nicholaus to giggle and clap his hands. “Tristan, I’m shocked. I thought we had a healthier relationship than that. Must we now accuse one another of such devious thinking?”
Tristan snorted and chose not to answer, his frown returning. Just how often DID his father spy on him while he was away? He’d thought those times in his dreams had been the ONLY times. But he obviously had known about Marz, and seemed to know who Tia was, too. But he hadn’t expected Nicholaus—or had he?
Damn it, where was Marz? The sooner his lover made his appearance, the sooner his father would be gone. And maybe he COULD spy on him as much as he liked, but at least Tristan wouldn’t have to deal with his actual physical presence any longer!
Then he felt it. He was pulled out of his surroundings for a second, the voices of the people beside him fading into buzzing background noises, their faces a hazy blur of expressions. The next moment, Marz was slipping into the chair next to his, leaning close to find his mouth and give him a deep kiss.
Right about then was when the most awful thing he could possibly think about suddenly popped into his head. He thought about the kiss he’d shared with Odarin, nearly a week ago. Marz was younger, more passionate, his whole self, mind and body, thrown into the kiss he was giving his lover. But Odarin had been more commanding, more self-assured, more…experienced?
Stop it, he warned himself, and just as quickly as the comparison came, he forgot it and began to think only of Marz.
Who promptly turned around and embarrassed the shit out of him. Tristan wanted to say something really kind of cool but romantic at the same time, but before he could think of anything appropriate, Marz looked to his father and blurted out, “Who the hell are you?” so loud the entire table must have heard.
Adonis didn’t even blink an eye, though he did raise one thin eyebrow while continuing to smile his quirky sort of smile. “Please,” Tristan said, whispering into Marz’s ear, “Don’t make him mad! He’s my—
“I’m Tristan’s father,” the wizard said, his calm amber eyes still fastened steadily on Marz. “You must be Marz.” He paused (rather dramatically, he must have thought), and Tristan reached one hand up to nervously wipe the bit of biscuit sauce that had smooshed itself onto Marz’s shirt when they had kissed. A piece of tousled hair had fallen over one of his dark eyes, too, but it made him look way too sexy for Tristan to consider pushing it out of his face.
He realized his father was staring at his lover a little bit too long, and automatically sniffed suspiciously at the air. Magic! DAMN him to the twelfth hell! Was he using magic on him?
But Marz had magic, too, as well his father probably knew it. The ex-gang leader shook his head curiously, and snapped the spell off, causing his father to grunt and smile a satisfied smile. Oh gods. Was he testing him? What the hell for?
“Father…” Tristan began, his voice a warning.
“I’m very excited to finally get to meet you,” Adonis continued smoothly, ignoring Tristan completely. He folded his hands together neatly on the table and leaned forward a bit. “My son speaks very highly of you. Once I learned you two had come to an understanding, I took the liberty of having a little chat with your father. You’ll be happy to hear that he approves of the match very much, by the way.”
“His father?” Tristan cut in, aghast. Adonis had gone to Sistino?
“Now. I’d like to ask you a few simple questions, if that’s all right with you.”
“Shoot,” Marz said, that old cocky look springing to his face. Tristan tossed him a warning look and laid one hand on his arm, but it was obvious that a battle of wills of sorts had begun. Marz had a strange, glazed look in his normally sharp eyes, though. Tristan sniffed the air again and stared across at his father, growling quietly.
“Do you love my son?”
“Yes,” Marz said, rather quickly.
“Are you happy with him?”
“Yes.”
“Have you remained faithful to him?”
There was a pause. Marz’s expression struggled, and then he answered, “Yeah.”
Adonis raised one eyebrow thoughtfully again. “Do YOU feel you have been faithful?”
“Yes,” Marz said, more confidently this time.
“Might he disagree with you?”
Marz’s eyebrows furrowed together.
Adonis narrowed his eyes. “If he knew what you know, that is.”
“Yes,” Marz answered, relaxing.
Tristan’s jaw dropped. He stared from his father to Marz, then back at his father, his eyes narrowing as well to deliver one of his more lethal glares. “Stop it!” he said, gritting his teeth together. “Father, stop it!”
“And this boy,” Adonis continued, jerking his head toward Nicholaus. “Is he yours?”
“Yes.”
“Do you love him as well?”
“Yes.”
“You are confident that you can provide for him?”
“Yes.”
“And my son?”
Another pause. Then, “Yeah.”
“I don’t need providing,” Tristan growled, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Well!” Adonis smiled broadly then and reached forward to clap Marz familiarly on the shoulder. The ex-gang leader blinked and glanced at Tristan, who only sniffed hotly and stared at the table.
“So, Marz,” his father continued. “Tell me about this house you are building. I hear you have hired dwarves. Dependable little creatures, at least that’s been my experience.”
Tristan glanced up. He couldn’t remember telling his father about the dwarves. Or hadn’t he? Damn it, damn it, damn it! When was this going to end?
“Oh hell, while you’re at it, why don’t you tell me everything about yourself?” His father was on a roll now. “We’re like family now, Marz. I want to know all about you. Tristan has told me many things, but it would so please me to hear you speak of yourself instead.”
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