| Subject: Aw, come on. Please? |
Author:
Tristan
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Date Posted: 12:32:41 08/28/02 Wed
Tristan knew Marz would probably follow him, although spite still made him lock the door anyway. A pleasant tingling feeling on his skin alerted him to his lover’s approach, as did the advancing footsteps in the hallway, so he had time to prepare himself. He was harboring satisfying visions of Marz testing the door and being forced to ask him to unlock it when a loud thump from without caused the whole structure to burst open, shattering the lock.
Marz tumbled into the room with the heavy grace of a wolf, his boots digging into the carpet to stop his momentum. Somebody’s going to have to pay for that, Tristan mused, his eyes falling on the broken lock, but he didn’t have time to follow the thought much farther. Marz slammed the door shut again and rounded on him, predator-like, his eyes gleaming with fury. Most people had every right to be afraid of him when he looked like that, but Tristan merely folded his arms over his chest and stood his ground, his eyes glaring right back at him.
WHAT? So Marz thought he suffered from MOOD swings? Tristan’s eyes narrowed even more, his lips curling ever so slowly in suppressed indignation. He wanted to tell him that his feelings had not come from nowhere; he’d only just become aware of them after spending time with Eremis. But of course he couldn’t say that, so instead he just continued to fume silently, little flashes of light sparking in his usually dark eyes like tiny red lightning bolts.
He gave an involuntary start when Marz smashed the vase in his anger, then flinched again at the outraged remark that followed. Oh…shit. Had he really accused them of rutting like animals? His face burned with shame, but he managed to bite back the apology hovering on the tip of his tongue. He had to admit, Marz had good reason for wanting to make love at every available opportunity: the experience was simply out of this world. Normal people did not have sex like he and Marz had sex, he was pretty positive about that. It was like his whole self, body and soul, was exploding with happiness and pleasure, and then he’d lose himself in Marz, as if he could no longer tell where he began and his lover ended. It was the power of their magics merging with the power of their love, and no feeling in the world could ever equal that singular emotion in time.
That has nothing to do with this, and you know it! he growled at himself, his teeth clenching automatically as Marz hotly declared he would sleep with Nikki tonight. Fine! he thought, unconsciously stomping his foot when the door finally opened and slammed shut once more, We’ll see who suffers the most tonight. Go ahead and sleep alone for all I care. Abstinence won’t kill ME for just one night!
But he paled when he considered what would happen if both of them refused to back down by tomorrow night. No, he assured himself, Marz wouldn’t be able to last that long. Ha! Maybe the secret to getting him to talk once in awhile was to cut off all their bedroom antics! He’d come crawling back, all right. But it’d be cruel to make him suffer, especially for so long. He didn’t bother to contemplate how much such prolonged abstinence would make HIM suffer, too, but it was just as well. He still believed himself to be the same, morally incorruptible young dragon he’d been before he’d met Marz. His friends called him a prude, but Tristan just considered himself culturally superior.
Well, it was obvious that there was only one way to solve this dilemma. Neither he nor Marz had ever been capable of handling their tempers while engaged in a yelling match, so no amount of arguing would solve anything. Somehow, though, he had to get his point across, and since there was one tried and true way to do so, he’d turn to that method once again: he’d write it down.
The love letter he’d once written Marz had brought about a huge jump in the intimacy of their relationship. After reading it, the ex-gang leader had verbally professed his love for the first time ever, and they had actually kissed in a public place, too. That was solid grounds for a repeat performance, at least in Tristan’s mind. Except that this time, he wouldn’t be writing a love letter. He’d be making a list.
He rummaged around the drawers in the room for a couple minutes before coming to the realization that paper probably had to be purchased beforehand. When he opened the busted door, he saw Marz moving down the hallway toward their room. Even from here, the tense muscle lines in his back showed how upset he still was. Tristan rushed to his side and grabbed his arm, forcing him to pause and glare up at him.
Instead of saying anything, Tristan put his finger to his lips and tugged on the arm he was holding, indicating that they should return to the room he’d rented. A brief look of curiosity passed over Marz’s face before the cloud of anger returned, but he allowed himself to be led stiffly back through the broken door. Once inside, Tristan released him and made a gesture asking him to wait here, an impish little smile curving onto his mouth despite his best effort.
Hoping his lover would obey the silent command, he hurried back downstairs and ran to the bar, asking one of the waitresses there for a piece of parchment, ink, and a quill. She tossed him a wink and a reassuring pat on the cheek before handing over the requested items. Tristan shot her one last annoyed look before whirling around and flying back up the stairs again.
When he got back into the room, Marz was still standing there, looking pissed as ever. Tristan put his finger to his lips again and then jumped onto the bed, lying flat on his stomach with the parchment spread out before him.
This is the list of things you already do for me, he began, dipping the quill in the ink before furiously writing some more. They all make me very happy, so you can go ahead and keep doing them.
Here Marz inched a little closer, cocking his head a little so he could see what the dragon was writing. Tristan shot him a glare and shifted his hand over the paper, shielding his words.
1. Buying me anything I want.
2. Putting up with my “moods.”
3. Making love to me whenever I feel like it.
4. Loving me unconditionally.
He studied the list for a couple seconds, his tongue between his teeth while a couple drops of ink blotted the unwritten portion of the parchment. Then he raised the quill once again.
This is the list of things you do NOT do for me. It is very important that you learn to do all these things. I cannot stress their importance enough.
1. Spending time with me when there is no one else around. Sex does not count.
2. Going places with me and not asking Nikki, Corum, etc. to tag along. Think “romantic.” Dinner would be nice.
3. Discussing things with me that have nothing to do with our current adventurous undertaking. A conversation about our personal likes and dislikes might be nice. How to arrange a private meeting with Ginza is an example of what NOT to talk about.
Deciding that was enough, he started to sign his name at the bottom, but an afterthought made him add a postscript at the bottom:
P.S. I’m sorry about that “rutting like animals” comment. I didn’t mean it. Honest.
Marz had gravitated toward him again, especially since his hand had slipped a little to reveal part of the list. Wordlessly, Tristan blew on the ink to dry it before laying the quill aside and handing his lover the piece of parchment. Then he rolled onto his back, propping his head up behind his hands, and waited for him to read it.
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