Tria 18, 81381 The air was alive. It was thrumming with life. With sound. Sounds that reminded Cayson about the joys in life... those simple pleasures. The freedom of movement. He'd come with Radin. His best friend since the beginning of time and 'til the end of time. They'd picked a new club to hit up. One gets tired of the same old places... and to be labelled as a “regular" was something that Case secretly feared. He liked to mix things up. Be spontaneous. Not fall into some prescribed routine. The club that they had found went by the name of Scrawls. It wasn't a large place by any means. Just a small, somewhat neighbourly joint where one could easily find a good combination of alcohol and music. It was a nice alternative when compared to the “hot" Shadowlack chain of clubs that kept popping up everywhere. The Gravedigger... The Rage... They all made Cayson feel both claustrophobic at times as well as nostalgic. Which in his opinion really didn't make for an awesome time. So for a while, Radin and Cayson had danced together amongst the small crowd on the floor. He was wearing his favourite pair of grey pants as well as a simple sleeveless black shirt. Radin had gone with a much more revealing outfit. One of his light mesh shirts and some “too tight" pants. It wasn't long before Radin had been “picked off" though (Case blamed Radin's pants) and the two friends had been separated. Cay knew right then that he most likely wouldn't see his friend for the rest of the night. Which meant that he'd be finding his own way home. Not that he really minded. For a while Cayson mingled with the various guys and gals. Exchanging words, drinks, as well as a few numbers. It wasn't long before he found himself losing interest though. So it was with a few closing words that he excused himself. He needed out. A little time to catch his breath... and get away from that one girl who kept on “accidentally" groping his ass. Snikt. The side door shut soundly behind him and Cayson was greeted with a gush of fresh air and hard pavement beneath his feet. Cay closed his eyes. He could hear the small crowd gathered at the front of the joint. Being idle with their chit chat. Most likely smoking. He paid them no mind. The orange arden slipped his hands into his pockets and was met with the crunching sound of paper. He sighed. They were the numbers he had collected. Out of courtesy really (Courtesy? What had he turned into? He honestly didn't give a damn about anyone in there). He hadn't been truly interested in a single soul. Case gathered the bits of paper and wadded them into a small ball. Looking around now, he spied a trash can. He tossed the ball at the trash can — and missed. Naturally. Whatever. It didn't matter. With a slight spring to his step, Cayson wove amongst the vehicles in the parking lot. His tail-flame was out, so the only shadow he cast was from the street light above. Now that he was alone, Cay found himself quietly humming some nameless tune as he strode. It wasn't long before he reached the end of the parking lot which was marked by a curb and a four foot high metal railing. Case grabbed onto the railing and in a fluid movement, hauled himself up into a sitting position on it. He hooked his feet around the bars while his blue-striped tail swayed idly. Before him was a straight drop of about eleven feet into the parking lot the adjacent mini-mall. It'd probably hurt if he fell off the wrong way. Not that he'd think he'd fall... although he had had quite a few drinks. He felt nice. Kind of mellow actually. From his vantage point he could see a fair distance. If only it all wasn't shrouded in darkness. There was the mall of course. What looked to be a small cafe... and then what could only be a park just across the way. It wasn't at all like the inner city cores. There didn't appear to be anyone peddling drugs on the corner, nor drunks stumbling to find their way home... it was just sort of peaceful.
The acid-haired rockstar, known as Requiem Falahau, walked easily across the now-familiar terrain of the broken streets, feet tattooing lightly upon the concrete before again reigning airborne. He was dressed in his party clothes, as heÂ’d just left a nearby club - tight, gray cigarette jeans and black fishnet top, along with his leather collar and all-obsidian hi-tops. His photographic memory had since noted every location, every rock and tree and blade of grass, and he'd be able to find it through the darkness of the apocalypse, through a blinding snowstorm, through anything. Throwing skyward his handsomely-chiseled head and closing blissfully his absinthe-colored eyes, the boy breathed deeply of the chill air and let a shiver run through his body at the cold and the crispness and the sheer reality of it all. And then it happened. He wasn't alone. The fatal male of alabaster and umbra skidded to a stop, all of his highly acute senses tuned to an impossibly fine pitch. The neon embers of his eyes scanned the area slowly and locked upon a faintly-pressed shadow. A few feet away, an arden was sitting on top of a fence. "Hello?" he said softly.
Cayson's orange and blue striped tail swung gently in the air, its barbed tip never quite touching the ground below. He was thinking rather deeply as he was apt to do when he was alone. Things had gone rather downhill for him ever since the cruise “incident." It had been the catalyst that had ultimately ruined his relationship with Riot. He'd proposed, they'd become engaged... and then everything had quite literally blown up in his face. Cay had been the target of an assassin. Some putrid piece of scum who was trying to deal Koani a crippling blow by taking out the one she loved the most. Riot had saved him though. She'd taken the bullet that had been meant for him. It'd been a heroic act... one that both Cayson and Koani had been extremely appreciative of. However, it had woken Cayson up to life's grim reality. Then everything had crumbled... Since then Case was trying to get on with his life as best as he could. At times it was difficult, both emotionally as well as physically. Some of Koani's paparazzi had named him their new target. Cay lacked professionalism when dealing with them. He'd swear at them, and on a few occasions had shoved a few annoying 'dragons out of his way. He didn't have Koani's knack, nor grace for dealing with the public. He just wanted his own life. Of course, his outbursts had gotten him into trouble on several occasions. Generally people were willing to simply talk settlements... money in order to keep their mouths shut. Cayson hated it all. From his vantage point, the world (at least part of it anyway), seemed at his feet. Cay closed his eyes and tuned into the sounds of the night. Bugs mostly... a few calls of some unknown beasts, and then there was the sound of softly approaching feet. A smirk slipped across Cayson's face. It had to be Radin. He'd struck out, had he? Needed a ride home after all? Case mused to himself. Maybe he'd suggest that they just go and playfully make out by the dumpster. Give both of their spirits a boost. “Hello?" a voice said softly. However, when Case turned to look, he realized all too quickly that it wasn't Radin at all. His blue-green eyes blinked in confusion. Although it wasn't Radin, Cayson was struck with a feeling of familiarity. The young arden was handsome – beautiful even. He seemed to glow. It was those eyes though. They were intense. Case tightened his grip on the fence. “By Fronima," Cay began, his words not much above a whisper. “You have to be one of the most stunning–" He stopped himself. He knew who this guy was. Parallax. The band's excessively hot lead singer. Cue fangirlish squealing? No. For a moment, Cayson couldn't get any words out, let alone a simple squeak. “Shit, man. You're Requiem, right? My name's Cayson."
ooc. your post made me giggly. n_n ic. Requiem liked the boy before him, a slender statue carved of midnight and tangerine, basking in the moonlight like an inverse gecko. Many thoughts raced through his head, forbidden and unbidden, and the twenty-three year old boy with eyes like cut green glass at the bottom of the ocean leaned against the fence rather coolly, years of practicing composure leaving his smooth, pale face barren of anything except for a smile. "Yep," he replied. A shred of amusement played about the depths of his eyes at the other boy's words, and 'Quiem smirked lopsidedly, milky teeth gleaming like the slightest streak of cutlery as he grinned. "And you," he purred. "Must be Cayson Lapices." Careful, 'Quiem, he thought inwardly, unconsciously running his tongue imperceptibly across his teeth inside of his mouth. Then, with a sudden jolt of motion like an adder striking, Requiem's pale fingers lashed out and oh-so-gently wound around Cayson's like white ivy. The swiftness of his motion made his gentleness startling, and he smiled and bent at the waist, his two-toned hair falling around his face in curtains. Pulling Cayson's hand upwards he entwined their fingers and held their wound hands up to the moonlight, glowing like polished ivory and oranges. He held them for a moment before lowering his hand once more and placing a kiss so soft that it could have been butterfly's wings on the heel of his palm. He stood with one hand on his hip before swinging himself up, cat-like, to sit on the fence. "You're pretty, y'know. Could do modeling. And my dad knows your mom."
ooc – I had fun writing it. XD So this was Requiem. The videos, the photos... they simply didn't do this guy's sheer presence justice. His every movement, every glance, seemed like something grand and out of Cayson's grasp. He was alluring without being overtly so. “And you, must be Cayson Lapices." He nodded silently in response. He knows my name, Cayson thought. Then again, who really didn't these days? He hadn't done anything important to gain recognition. Unlike Requiem and his music. All he had done was been born... to Koani. It was her fame. Not his. For a fleeting second, Cayson felt as if he should hop down off of the fence and bolt. He could feel adrenaline tripping through his veins. Was he scared of something? Maybe. Requiem had some sort of magnetism though and it was this that kept the orange arden seated. He felt compelled to stay. Still, he couldn't help but notice that Requiem looked to be playing him. Fortunately, or unfortunately, Cayson was in the mood to play along. It was then that Requiem made a quick movement. It was like lightning, fast, fluid... and then Case felt a touch. For a moment, Cayson thought he was falling. He thought he had fallen forward off of the fence and onto the hard pavement several feet below. Yet, he was still securely on his perch. Requiem however, had captured his hand. In mere seconds, their fingers had become entwined, and then there had been Requiem's light kiss. Case sighed, feeling that adrenaline again. There was that familiar rush. Then Requiem had hopped up onto the fence alongside him. “You're pretty, y'know. Could do modeling. And my dad knows your mom." After he'd spoken, Cay found himself looking at the arden a little differently. “Thanks. You're pretty damn intoxicating yourself. I think I like this game you're playing," he said as the smirk he'd been saving for Radin returned to his muzzle. “Not so sure about that model thing though. I'm not a fan of cameras. But... your dad. Who's he?" Case asked. He knew some of Koani's co-workers. All that he knew seemed to be the boring type. The lawyers, the financial advisers, the secretaries, etc., etc.... She knew Requiem's father though? And had never told him?
Requiem's mind-sailboat had been swallowed by Charybdis whole and now he was using Case's fingers as a rope and life-preserver and anchor all simultaneously — perhaps he was expecting too much. Perhaps too little. "Thank you," he purled. "And yes - the cameras get to be too much most of the time. However, it's only the way of the gentleman which decrees that I have to kiss your palm, nay?" He held his gaze almost tentatively, testing the waters though in such a way his touch thus far could be written off as friendly, running one finger over the edge of the other boy' shirt. Cayson's eyes were blue-green and bright like bleached sapphires inlaid into the facets of his skull, glowing with starlight. "Are you sure you know what you're asking for?" he said softly. "I mean, what if I fall desperately in love with you?" His curious glance was met with an unwaveringly happy gaze of his own, features unchanging as his smile faded into impassiveness, his deep eyes bright. "I don't want to hurt either of us, y'know." The effect that a clear, starry sky and the surreal surroundings had on 'Quiem were profound and unexplainable, like a mute stuffed in a trumpet. Requiem ignored his last statement gracefully at first, raising his thin brows once in quick succession before casting his glance over Case's shoulder and into the stars, glowing like broken glass in the sky. "They knew each other from Janardan, and he fought at Candrice - his name is Arsenic Strychnine. But it used to be Dylan Aciana," he responded levelly as he traced idly along Case's collarbone like a lazy flicker of candlelight — his deep eyes shut once more as he licked his lips, clearing his mind lie one might do to a chalkboard. Rubbing his thumb against the palm of the other boy's hand absently, Requiem focused on the empty blackness overhead, trying to ignore the stars; he wanted oblivion. Lifting Cayson's hand to his mouth once more, the rockstar ran his tongue slowly along each of his fingers, just barely grazing his skin with the tips of his pale incisors, ominously shining behind his slightly parted lips. "Still sure you want to play?" he asked, putting Case's hand down.
Cayson's smirk faltered for a moment. This guy was good. He was schooled in suave. He knew how to move. He knew each and every little nuance and knew just how to use it to his advantage. Cay had nothing in comparison to Requiem's skill. He knew how to play. Perhaps Cayson's instinct – to bolt, to flee – had been a real thing. Perhaps he should have paid heed to it. For once in his life, Case felt out of his element. He felt foolish yet at the same time helplessly intrigued. Did he know exactly what he was asking for? In truth, no. Not really. He had a glimmer though. The faintest beginnings of a more concrete idea. The idea of Requiem falling in love with him seemed laughable. Specially since he was a celebrity who could most likely have anyone who fell victim to his eyes and mannerisms. If Cay hadn't still been feeling lightly buzzed, he most likely would have continued mulling over this. What was love these days? He believed that he had known it once, but now? He hadn't been lying though when he said he had found the boy intoxicating. Requiem's words were pulling him along. The name Arsenic Strychnine didn't ring any bells. Nor did Dylan Aciana. “I don't think I know him..." Then again, Cayson really didn't know a whole lot about Koani's past. Candrice was always something that she had only touched on lightly. He didn't know much about it aside from the fact that his father had died there. Was Requiem hinting at something? Did he maybe know something that Case didn't? Requiem's father too... just where exactly did he fit in? If he was anything like Requiem, Cayson didn't want to even entertain the thought of him and Koani in the same room. Still, Requiem was persistent. His touches were teasing. First lingering on his collarbone and then back to Cay's hand. Cayson watched his movements, somewhat enraptured by the casual way in which he was being treated. “Still sure you want to play?" “Can't really play unless I know the rules..." Cayson murmured. “I bet you're a great guy, Requiem. Love though? I don't think you could love me. Lust maybe, but I doubt love. I've had my doubts about love lately." Cay's doubts didn't stop him from reaching out for Requiem's hand and entwining fingers with him once again. He liked the feel of the arden's hand. He then absently flicked his long blond hair out of his eyes before he met Requiem's entrancing gaze once again.
He did not really know him at all. He was probably not destined to be his - he most definitely did not love ‘Quiem – at least not yet - and he would probably have to be caught like a butterfly if the rockstar really ever wanted him, edging closer over time to come close enough to net him. And so it was a rarity of the most glorious kind that Requiem allowed Case so close to him, allowed himself to be so intimate with the other boy, letting go of his internal walls. Physical proximity was the most he was going to get for now out of Case, whether he wanted more, or not. He tried taking in the billions of stars above, lingering long enough to let each point of light the chance to scratch a deep hole in the back of his retina, so that when he finally turned to face the dark mountains and caves looming above, he saw the billion eyes of a billion ghosts blinking – in the math of the living, in the sum of the universe. Requiem fluttered his eyes shut as Cayson entwined their hands. He liked the feeling of allowing him to be so close, even if it was only physical proximity - it gave him something to think about other than drowning himself in hopeless sorrows like some serotonin-deprived teenager. For a twenty-three year old, he had a hell of a lot of growing up to do. He smirked vaguely at his words. "Ah, but how can you say that, puijhuijs? You don’t know that I can’t love, do you?" ‘Quiem retorted, opening one eye and then the other in a very cat-like reaction. His words flowed easily from English to his mother tongue – Ykili. Truthfully, his life when he was younger had been rather uneventful - he had grown up in the Sompjufylv tribe with an alcoholic mother and a baby sister who had died at the age of two of pneumonia because his mother had been too drunk to give her any medication. It hadn't been happy and his leaving home had been a near suicide mission, but it hadn't been exciting by any means. No reason to share. "What doubts?" he murmured softly, looking back to Case. Requiem shifted closer to him so that they were almost touching, but not quite. He dropped the hand he had been holding captive and moved it to rest on the small of his back gently, not pulling him any closer — Cayson would do it himself if he so desired. He simply stayed quiet, arching his neck slightly to place a faint kiss on the skin at the juncture between neck and shoulder.
Cayson shrugged nonchalantly. All his life he'd judged others. Case had always been far quicker to condemn than to forgive. He knew he was a jerk. He delighted in pointing out other's flaws. He liked having a laugh at other people's expense. Most of his friends were not his friends because they liked him. They were his friends because they were either afraid of being ridiculed, or because they wanted a share a slice of his life. To be part of that elitist “in" crowd. It'd taken Cayson a while to realize that his friends weren't really friends at all. His only true friend had been, and was, Radin. “I don't. Honestly Requiem, I really don't know much about you at all. All I know is what the media's fed me." He paused, thinking for a moment, then laughed gently. It was strange how Requiem was here now. Specially since he'd been the object of some of Cayson's fantasies. However, Cay hadn't been dreaming at all lately. He'd slipped off of the fast track in life and had found himself in black sludge. “Doubts. Funny how it was a thill that shook me. I thought I loved her. It was good for a bit. But I don't feel anything now. Maybe it was just the wrong time for me." Cayson rubbed at his right eye wearily. Requiem had placed his hand upon his lower back. His touch was warm and felt assuring to the Lapices arden. He wanted to curl into that hand. He wanted to rub up against Requiem and steal cuddles and other such amiable pleasantries. He found himself wanting even more when the undeniably sexy arden kissed him lightly. However Cay denied his wants, and for a time, broke out of Requiem's spell. “You though? I doubt that you've ever had trouble finding companionship. However short lived it may be. I wonder though. Maybe you have the same problem as me. It seems to plague those more famous types. Koani's a sufferer too, though I bet she'd deny it." It still seemed strangely out of character to Cayson to refer to Koani as his mom. She was only his mother by birth right and not by much more. Cay reached around himself and grabbed Requiem firmly by the wrist, relieving himself of that lingering touch. It wasn't that he disliked it. He liked it a lot. He wanted more of it. Still holding Requiem, a little roughly now, by the wrist, Cayson leaned over so that he could stare more directly into those dazzling eyes. “I want to know – are you lonely?"
Requiem’s clothes, sparse as they were, seethed like African sunshine against his skin. A burning passion for adventure matched the twin candle to the desire that burned bright behind his eyelids. Using both hands, he slid his index and middle fingers along the sharp curve of the orange luoko's jaw, stopping when the bone turned sharply upwards at the joint. Like a craftsman wielding fatally sharp tools – an apt description for a Yki who liked to frame every successful kill with sublime poetry – he opened his mouth just enough to keep his lethally sharp teeth covered. The microscopic space between ‘Quiem' hand and Cayson's back sizzled and sparked with chemical reactions, reinterpreted, magnified and wired in their rawest form directly to the center of the singer's brain. He leaned forward, and with a look on his face like smirking child taunting a vicious dog on a short leash – not the simile he himself would've chosen describe the expression, or the situation – looked him straight in the eye. “You though? I doubt that you've ever had trouble finding companionship." He stopped smiling, although he continued rubbing Case’s back in small, burning circles. "Not true," he said softly, a grim smile on his face. "See - they’re all skanks. All they want is to fuck me, get my money, or use me for their own conniving purposes. But there’s been only two people I’ve met that I truly loved and wanted to spend the rest of my life with – and neither have ever loved me back." He sighed bitterly, tracing a line along the vulnerable triangle of Case’s lower jaw with his index finger. "My mom died when I was 16, my sister when she was 2, and my dad is really the only person I can trust. I came from an alcoholic mother and a people who are bleached like the snow and the silence. You get to know it up there – the sound of nothingness." “I want to know – are you lonely?" Electricity seemed to instantaneously lick his wrist, burning the skin beneath from each and every cell combined in the dead weight of Case’s hand. "Every second of every day."
That certainly made Cayson think. Skanks simply wanting money and a good time. Weren't the clubs full of those types? His best friend of all people, Radin, being one of them. What exactly was cool about a dungeon full of sweaty, thumping, posing idiots anyway? This wasn't exactly an epiphany for Cay. He'd always known that Radin was a slut. The two of them liked to joke about it. Still, the club thing was on his mind. It was depressing to learn about Requiem's unrequited love. Case had never been in that sort of position before. Those that he had tried to love usually tended to love back. He supposed that he was a little sheltered in a way. Aside from Riot, he'd always been rather guarded. Deciding to not take things too far. This had pissed off pendragons in the past, but that was their problem and not his. “Sorry about your family," Cay said soon after Requiem had mentioned his mother and sister. He wondered what it was like to know complete silence. Cayson had never been to such a place. There was always something to be listened to. Whether it be the sound of the city, or some form of nature. Nothingness wasn't something he was sure he could cope with. “Every second of every day." He'd known that would be Requiem's answer. Cayson felt that way too. Case also felt spoiled though. He had never had a moment in his life where he'd felt unloved. Jaceen and Radin had always been there for him. Koani? Sort of. Yet he still felt lonely. Cayson pulled Requiem closer. He wanted to vanquish the other's loneliness. Cay knew that he could offer Requiem many things. A few of which would make him really no different than the skanks he'd mentioned. Cayson stopped, then smiled, his eyes seeming to sparkle in the darkness. “Feel like going for a walk?"
ooc. Hand-translating English to Ykili is tedious, but I find a sort of working comfort in it. ic. Requiem's fingers moved in soft, rhythmic circles along Cayson’s back as if he were an instrument and ‘Quiem were a musician joining in the sonata of the stars. "Thank you for your condolences, puijemu." The foreign language was thick and gaudy with sounds. It sounded like broken metal or shattered glass or traffic and nothing at all pretty, but it had a certain thrall over him all the same. It was like an abstract painting that looked like naught but scribbles until you tilted your head and it blossomed into beauty. He licked his lips as if he could taste Case’s words, the motion mindless as he gaze up at the sky, and Requiem resisted the urge to close his eyes like a contented cat. His hand moved from his back up between his shoulderblades, ghosting across the cool skin of his neck in intricate circles and patters as if tracing the heavenly constellations on his skin. He looked at Cay’s fingers against his wrist, fire on ice, and for a fleeting second he wondered what it would be like to have flames against his skin - would he melt completely, his arctic self turning to a puddle on the ground? He smiled, still musing about pointless things; would he have held him back if Requiem hugged him? Stupid little things he missed. He draped his arm around Case’s shoulders and wished for his racing cardiovascular metronome to slow. His fingertips barely touching the orange arden’s gold hair, ‘Quiem found his cheek for the first time, brushing as softly against it as he could. His eyelashes, black smudges of ink against the pale parchment of his face, fluttered against Cayson's face. He pulled away from the soft kiss, smiling, and blinked his eyes slowly. "Yes." The Yki slipped off the fence, his finger intertwined with Case’s as they walked – inferno and snow – and he began to speak. "Up in the Northlands, my tribe believes in a true name, a tealminu, and you can only give it to one person – a sjashcuuguj. My mother gave it to the wrong person. He was a bastard; that’s why my tribe thought that she was an alcoholic. I don’t believe in that anymore, though." He turned to Cay, still walking. "What about your family?"
Requiem's Yki language was quite lost to Cayson. While it was mildly similar to Ramathian, there were just enough differences to make it indistinguishable. Still, he felt as if he understood the general gist of the words. Now that the two of them had their feet planted firmly on the ground, Cayson felt a little bit more safer and in control. Falling hadn't been the only thing he'd been worried about when they had been perched upon the fence. It had taken a lot not to respond fully to Requiem's kiss. Still Requiem's endlessly endearing manner was making it increasingly difficult for the hot pelted Lapices arden to keep face. Every touch, every moment seemed to serve a purpose. Cay wasn't exactly known for his patience, and Requiem's touches were driving him close to madness. Just breathe. They were only holding hands now after all. His education about the tribes in the Northlands was severely lacking. It wasn't that Case was completely ignorant. There just wasn't an awful lot of literature about them, and Cay had never possessed any desire to actually go out and look for more. “That's good. My family though. Hm... well everyone knows Koani. My Dad though, not so much. He died when I was 7 or 8. I don't really remember a whole lot about him. Koani says I look a lot like him though," Case said with a shrug. “I haven't really seen pictures, and my memory is a bit fuzzed. I remember his smile though." A somewhat sheepish grin spread across Cayson's face. Leave it to him to remember someone smiling. “He was a space explorer. Dedicated to mapping out regions and the like for possible colonization. So... I guess he was away a lot. I had two older sisters too. My oldest sister Vale died though. Someone shot her. Then my other sister Myst is in the USR, or at least that's what I'm told. I haven't seen her for years. Not since she left me alone with my grandparents. I ended up leaving them too. I went to live with my aunt." Cayson stopped. His life seemed like such a tangle of things now that he was talking about it out loud. Then there was the fact that not many knew his story aside from Jaceen and those in the Dragyn clan. He had gotten quite used to his life being a secret.
[ooc.] and you know how much i need you Ah, Requiem - how you amuse me so. *pets scientistesh rockstar* [ic.] but you never even see me, do you Cayson ripped his defenses to shreds and took no prisoners. Except, maybe for his heart. And he wondered why he couldn't hear it in his voice, the silent plea for confirmation of everything they weren't and everywhere he possessed him and everything they could be. He was screaming on the inside, throwing a tantrum equal only in like to those found on the various floors of grocery stores across the continent. He had never been inconsistent in his emotions, no matter how volatile his nature. Right now the only thing mercurial about him was the fire rising in his throat. He wished he could hold him, right there and then, and tell him everything. Blow instead of simmer, and let them slide the long slide down into the oblivion. He was no scientist, and messing with variables in life could make things worse. However, as he walked next to the orange arden, so close to Case that he could see the tiny lines in his eyes that showed the presence of rods and cones, he wondered why he didn’t tell him about the fire rising in his stomach and the way his heart was speeding right now. Because you’ve afraid, Requiem. "You’re comfortable telling these things to me?" he asked, wondrously. Because of stereotypes placed on him and his other colleagues in the music business, ‘Quiem had never been trusted much by others. He still didn't know what he was doing. There was no way they could ever start over again, because there was no going back. They could only pick up where they'd left off, knowing in their hearts - no matter how tainted or shattered they were - that things that had happened before could happen again. Starting over did not wipe a memory, it was merely thrown to the side in a vain attempt to be forgotten. Things like that were futile. But, despite not knowing what he was doing, it happened anyway. Without control, without thought, without really caring, Requiem leaned forward and, wordlessly, pressed his lips against Cayson's. He could say it was more or less experimental, but his eyes had closed, and besides, he was no scientist.
Cayson didn't exactly see the gravity in his words. To him, being discovered as Koani's son had both lifted weights off of him as well as added a few new ones. He didn't have to be so guarded about what he said anymore for starters. However, with that freedom had come danger. “Well it's not..." What wasn't it? He wasn't sure what he had been about to say. His train of thought had been abruptly derailed and spun into the abyss by one specific white-pelted arden. Requiem was kissing him. Could Cayson protest? No. That fire in him had been burning since the beginning. Cay hadn't needed much more to push him over the edge and closer to sweet oblivion. Without missing a beat, Cay's striped hands were upon the arden's back and shoulders, pulling him further into the kiss as he closed his own eyes. Requiem was lovely. It had only been a kiss, yet in more ways than one, Cayson had been spurred by it. Radin's kisses had never been like that. Neither had Riot's. What exactly was he supposed to be feeling right now? Shame? Regret? Raw longing? He wasn't sure. Cay broke off their kiss and let his hands slide down to the small of Requiem's back. What had that kiss meant, if anything at all? “Is that... out of our systems now?" Cayson asked, smiling demurely as he did so.
‘Quiem had grown up as the only half-breed boy in a native Yki tribe where his mother was a healer and his father was simply gone. In the Sompjufylv tribe, Yki had spoke freely of children who went to live with seals, with ardens who shared a home with bears. One woman had married a dog and given birth to puppies, only to peel back the fur and discover they were actually nioties beneath. Animals were simply nondraconic people, with the same ability to make conscious decisions, and draconity simmered under their skins. You could see it in the way they sat together for meals, or fell in love, or grieved. And this went both ways: sometimes, in a ‘dragon, there would turn out to be a hidden beast. He had spent most of his childhood waiting to leave. He was a kylyj'cep, a color-kid, and that was reason enough to be teased or bullied or beaten. By the time he was 13, he was getting drunk, damaging property, and making sure that the rest of the world knew better than to fuck with him. But when he wasn’t doing these things, he was singing. Lyrics he hid in the margins of his papers and on the canvas of his bare palm. He knew how to escape, and eventually, at age sixteen, he did. Once Requiem left Dhruv, he never looked back. He learned how to stop using his fists, get away from his addictions, put the rage in his singing instead. He got a foothold in the music industry, and he pretended none of it had never happened. Not until now, at least – telling Case about himself had been a big social step. Requiem pulled away from the kiss, settling nearer to Cayson's orange form and searching his face for the understanding he knew he would find. He knew, as surely as he knew the color of his eyes, that he understood the bond between them – friendship or more, it was there. It was something felt, and it did not require an explanation. Thus, he offered none. There was an unspoken question in Cayson's gaze, but ‘Quiem, for all his intelligence, didn't speak fluently the language of empathy and intuition. SHIT, REQUIEM! he screamed at himself. YOU JUST MADE A BIG FUCKIN’ MISTAKE! Unable to figure out the wordless inquiry, he remained silent, listening intently to the quietude that both of them had yet to breach and cursing anew his lack. Cayson broke it first. "I – “ He blushed deeply. " - yeah. I’m... sorry."
Cayson's right ear flicked backwards. An itch had just decided to manifest itself behind his ear but he didn't want to move in order to scratch it. He felt a little confused. He'd been expecting Requiem to follow up with some sort of explanation. Instead there had only been a sort of stunned, abashed silence followed by an apology. “Don't be sorry. I wanted it." Case said, his canine teeth glinting as he smiled. “I was about to do the same thing myself, so if it hadn't of been you, it would have been me. So it's cool." He wasn't simply trying to prevent any rifts between them. Cayson was speaking truthfully. After all, it wasn't exactly as if he had rejected Requiem's kiss. Cayson was okay with it. Perhaps Requiem wasn't though, hence his apology. Maybe it had only been a compulsion with little meaning or significance. It was strange to see Requiem suddenly change personalities. He had been all smooth, his touches, his movements... everything he had done had been purposeful, confident, as well as sexy. Now though, he seemed a little shaken. “Look, if you don't want it to mean anything, then it doesn't have to."
'Quiem sighed. His mind was spinning endless threads of conjecture that snarled constantly around his mind. Stars, children with faces of snow, dead cities, a shape-changer, all unresolved under his probing into answerless riddles. He gazed back at his life, and picked at facts like potshards, trying to piece them together. Requiem dropped his face against Cayson's, so that their brows and cheekbones touched, and he looked deeply into one green, pink-flecked eye. He put his arms around him kissed the hollow of his neck. "No," he said softly, bluntly. He felt as if he were changing in front of him into something as ancient as the world, around which riddles and legends and the colors of night and dawn clung like priceless, forgotten treasures. He wanted, suddenly, to make Case see him like that. "No," he repeated, sighing deeply and taking in a deep, shuddering breath. "I never believed in that love-at-first-sight stuff. But when my heart is racing at a million miles an hour, my lungs aren't there, and every move you make sets me on fire - I've only felt that way twice in my life, and I think I might believe, now."
Cayson felt something that was closely akin to relief when Requiem kissed the hollow of his neck and uttered a soft No. He hardly knew Requiem, yet here Case was simply hanging onto each and every one of the arden's words. They were precious words. Music to the Lapices' ears. Much more so than the simple drudging club music that he had been listening to previously. They sent a pleasant tickle down his spine. Love at first sight? Could that have been what that was? It was a familiar feeling, yet somehow startlingly foreign. “I... hm. I guess it's been two years maybe since I've felt something even remotely similar. It was different though. It spawned from a crush... and me, well, me being a prick." Cayson laughed at himself, his tone rather bitter. “I like you, Requiem. The moment I saw you here... not really that long ago, I was caught. Infatuated with your every look, movement... touch. I want to know you though. I want to know your insides just as well as your outsides. Not because I doubt this inferno you've lit inside of me, but because I think that it's what I should do." Cayson cupped the side of Requiem's face with a hand, smiling playfully as he did so. “Give our minds some time to catch up with our hearts, eh?"
Requiem's eyes blissfully closed as Case cupped his jaw, and he moved foward to give him a gentle kiss on the cheek. Moving back, 'Quiem ran a thumb across Cay's lips, delicately as his eyes twinkled. "I'm not going anywhere. Because Cayson Lapices, angel, saviour, god and king, I think I love you." Radiant beauty and grace lay held in his arms, in turn holding him, and look at you, angel, you're shining. Captivated by his every word, he pulled his arms around the boy even more (if that was physically possible), cuddling him like he was never going to let go. And, really, he wasn't. But Cayson, oh, Cayson was light. Cayson was hope, love, God - if there ever was one. He was beautiful, golden locks that were the sun, eyes so deep and so understanding that sometimes there needed no words; Requiem could gaze into them all day unblinkingly. Feeling that same hunger, the boy wrapped his arms around Case's waist and clung to him for all he was worth. Neither of them seemed to notice; lost in each other's eyes. "Tea on Dympui at my flat? Or coffee, if you prefer," he purred airily.
