thomas raith is pretty and knows it (thomasraith) wrote in spinningcompass, @ 2013-06-22 07:51:00 |
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Entry tags: | !closed |
Who: Thomas Raith & Harry Dresden (DW)
What: Checking up.
Where: Dresden's basement abode.
When: Sometime after Thomas' arrival.
Warnings | Status: Allusions to rape | Narrative | Complete
Harry opened the door and stepped back a pace to let Thomas enter, his eyes picking over the other man with a rueful grudge in them. Thomas was pretty. Too pretty. And he knew it, too. The vampire even had the good grace to smile at Harry, then stalked by him with the grace of a predatory cougar.
"Love what you've done with the place, darling," Thomas said, slouching onto a couch covered in various bits and pieces of things. Thomas even made lounging look good. Even if he was surrounded by a heap of trash in the apartment. Those grey eyes regarded Harry intently, and there was a subtle tension in his shoulders as if Thomas were waiting for something to happen.
Harry closed the door, replaced his wards, and rolled his eyes at Thomas.
"Don't look at me like that," he retorted to Thomas' knowing silence.
"Good to see you too," Thomas said blithely, kicking his feet up onto the table in front of him. "Tell me what's going on."
Harry shrugged and collected two beers from the icebox he was keeping in his apartment. He didn't live in the main block with the others, because being near electricity screwed things over a whole lot for a lot of people. It was best he not interrupt their lives more than he could. Or should.
He popped the lid off and passed one to Thomas, who took it mechnically and drank with the grace of a dancer.
Freaking vampires, Harry thought irritably.
"It's a magical island," he told Thomas, who quirked a brow questioningly. "For all intents and purposes. A flux of magical energy. It's been pulling people in from all over the place. Jedis, dragons, elves." He rolled his shoulders thickly and sat down across from Thomas, shoulders slumping. "No Nevernever, no way to get off the island. Not that I've found though."
Thomas watched him in silence, drinking.
"Okay. And we've ascertained that it's not Mab why?"
Harry looked at him blankly for a moment, then caught up and shook his head. "Oh, yeah, that guy--I forgot he was here. I don't think it's her though. Aurora more like as it's got a pretty Summery feel to the place. And there was a mermaid," he said, shrugging again. "Summer Fae."
"And you think Aurora has a thing against you? You didn't get Lily killed." Harry cringed, mentally shrinking away from memories of Demonreach and the exchange of forces that happened that night. Lily died, Sarissa took her place, Molly took Maeve's. Winter Lady. There was nothing he could do. He shivered and scratched his head, annoyed at himself and .. well, in general.
"So maybe Aurora screwing everyone around royally. Though it's not really Summer's gig." Thomas shrugged this time, his muscles rippling with the motion. Prince of freaking bowflex, Harry growled to himself.
"Yeah, and Summer's Knight isn't here. I don't think Aurora would hold me here for long, Mab wouldn't let her Knight go that easily--" okay, she would. She made it perfectly clear she wouldn't blink if she had to let Harry die, or kill him. Which wasn't reassuring. But Harry shrugged it off. "It's not Aurora."
"Are you su--"
"I've got a feeling." Harry cut Thomas off. Thomas' eyes narrowed a nearly impercetible fraction.
"Okay." And let it slide. It wasn't Harry's fault he was grumpy. Thomas cocked his head casually, looking as non-threatening as possible while he assessed the other man.
"How are you feeling?"
"About what?" Harry asked, tone implying some danger for this line of questioning. Thomas didn't shrink away. If there was someone capable of putting down the Knight it was him, and Harry would trust him to do it.
"Yesterday was the Solstice," there was implication in his tone that made Harry glare.
"I know that," he said tightly, drawing himself up into a knot of tension. And it sucked, hard. He was irritable, easy to piss off, and full of irrational hatred for things out of his control.
"How have you been?" There was innocence to the question, a sort of casual interest in one's wellbeing, but they both knew what Thomas was getting at. Harry looked at him darkly, eyes narrowing anyway.
"If you mean have I randomly assaulted some woman for daring to tell me no, the answer is No," he said forcefully, pushing himself roughly to his feet to stalk away. He paced back and forth, Thomas' eyes tracking him the whole way. Harry was close to cracking, Thomas knew what that was like, and he wanted to help. Harry was so stubborn though. He could see the stress written on his little brother's face, in his body. How he carried himself.
"I can help," he ventured casually.
"I don't need help," Harry said acidly.
"Of course," Thomas said crisply. "You aren't about to snap or anything, or beating yourself up over the What-ifs. You don't feel guilty for thinking thoughts you can't help." Harry whirled on Thomas as he spoke, the tension in the air becoming more and more palpable you could cut it with a knife. Or a butterknife, even. Thomas looked non-threatening again, but his shoulders hadn't relaxed while he waited.
Harry sighed and deflated, sinking back down into the chair he'd formerly occupied.
"I know."