Sir Jacob Frye (brassknuckles) wrote in valloic, @ 2020-10-26 21:12:00 |
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Entry tags: | !: action/thread/log, assassin's creed: jacob frye, wicked saints: serefin meleski |
Of course, the plan itself wasn’t particularly brilliant. It was - possibly - just a thinly veiled excuse to get Serefin alone somewhere dark, but the Sanctuary did need money and Jacob was trying to take a hint about everything that had been said. He’d tentatively cast a line and gotten no tug in return, after all. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t appreciate a ridiculous activity with a mate and hope it helped somehow.
“Alright, so, this is what I figured…” He pulled Serefin by the forearm, through the entrance to the Sanctuary, and down a lane decorated in spooky runes and spiderwebs. Eerie noises came from the trees and bushes in the darkness around them. Jacob let go and leaned in. He was wearing clothes similar to his norm, only in black and burgundy brocade, with dark gloves and knee high boots. He had a pair of plastic vampire teeth in his mouth. It made his words come out in a quiet lisp. “You have this rightly terrifying monster in your head, yeah? Well, what if you get startled in a bunch of other ways? Maybe once it comes time to sleep, you’ll have...softened the edges a bit.”
Serefin could see the appeal in being surprised. And he had politely, albeit eagerly, awaited what Jacob had meant by asking for his Saturday night. Serefin should have known it was the Sanctuary, but it was the reason why that had stumped him. He had not been as clever to suggest being scared in other ways, but he supposed it wasn't terrible—it didn't involve anyone else poking around inside his head, punching him in the face, or making his liver cry. His whole body was thanking him for the less-than-destructive break.
It also helped that Jacob looked frustratingly nice in his costume, which had not been so far off from something he had seen Tranavian slavhki wear in court. The teeth were a nice touch. Serefin had come in all black, an ode to Diego and a clear misinterpretation of tonight's events.
He let himself be dragged through the entrance, and eyed the path that was not unlike the places he had trudged through before coming to Vallo. Serefin knew it wasn't the same forest—the trees weren't bleeding for starters—but he was wary. Luckily, his practiced disinterest kept him from looking too apprehensive, and his hand made a daring sweep to touch the lapel of Jacob's clothing.
"I am not against the idea, it's inspired. But you're right about what is inside my head. It will take a lot to soften the edges. Do you think you'll be able to make it through or will I have to be concerned that it might be too terrifying for you?" Serefin asked, teasing in that way he often did with Jacob, like a challenge.
Jacob tried not to let the touch go to his head. He was starting to get the impression it was just a cultural miscommunication. At home, Englishmen were usually very deliberate in how they touched other Englishmen, especially in public. Firm handshakes, arms slung around shoulders, none of this stroking business.
Right. Nipping that thought in the bud – along with the memory of Serefin’s hand on his tattoo, Jacob growled, “Oh I’ll last as long as you, brat.” Of course it came out a little ridiculous so he rolled his eyes and plucked out the teeth to pocket them. “I know it’s a little silly. It probably won’t do anything at all. But…” He slid a questioning sidelong look to Serefin. “Anything’s worth a shot, right? I can stick around after. You know. To see if it works.”
His traitorous face was heating up. Jacob was very glad it was dark as ink as he led Serefin towards the spooky mouth-shaped entrance to the hiking path ahead.
"It could, and I am supposed to use the next two weeks to figure out options that are not stabbing. I remember," Serefin said, though he sounded thankful. He could take silly. He could take unconventional. However, Serefin wasn't certain he could take what Jacob was suggesting.
He had to turn his head to look at him, but with one good eye and the thick darkness, it was hard to tell how sincere the offer was. Serefin didn't think Jacob did much of anything without sincerity; this whole experiment was a genuine exercise in how far Jacob was willing to help him. So then why did Serefin continue to dance around this?
Ever since his tea with Evie, he spent far too much time reading between the lines. It was driving him insane. More so than Velyos.
"Tell me," Serefin said, taking a large step ahead of Jacob, so that they could face each other as they headed further into the fog. It was probably a poor choice to walk backward into unknown territory but Serefin was full of poor choices. "What happens if it does work? What happens if it is you sticking around that does it? Are you willing to spend every night making sure I'm scared out of my mind and I'm well-rested?"
Jacob snorted as Serefin whirled around in front of him and delivered his barrage of questions. How he managed to feel put on the spot and charmed at the same time was a mystery.
“I mean, the fundraiser is only through tomorrow, so the scaring part might be harder to pull off, but sure.” Red fog enveloped their feet and grew up around the path, and a large shadow with claws for hands passed through it. Jacob reached out to snag Serefin by his shirt front on instinct but didn’t even realize he’d done it, he was so busy scanning the darkness beyond Serefin’s back. Checking his eagle vision felt like cheating, but it was tempting all the same.
“Until we can evict your uninvited guest, right?” His gaze shifted back to Serefin’s face and he let go with a nervous smirk. “If you want me there anyway. It doesn’t have to be me.”
If this had been real, Serefin very likely would have been struck down without Jacob pulling him out of harm's way. He didn't even fight it when he was yanked, equally confused and startled by the abrupt change. He managed to catch the edges of the claw as it disappeared into the dense red fog, and Serefin swallowed hard. A notoriously similar sharp-taloned hand had often reached out from the darkness of his mind, like hooks attempting to drag him under.
"It does have to be you," Serefin said, perhaps too quickly. They were close again, and Serefin made no move to break apart just yet. "The only other people I trust have either never been inside my apartment or would forego the part about frightening me into sleep all together and convince me that the most direct route is—" He tapped his eyepatch.
"You seem very adamant not to, and I do not think I have said how much I appreciate your need to search for alternatives. Until I evict my uninvited guest," Serefin said, a little bitterly. His attention went to the fog again, curling over and around them, a flimsy privacy with terror lurking within. Serefin smiled wryly before adding, "Does it bother you, knowing he’s always there?"
There was no quicker way to put a fire in Jacob’s chest than to make him feel exceptional, even in the smallest way. He’d gotten into trouble more than once for this exact reason. It was a little ridiculous really, but there was no stopping the bright and crooked grin that formed. It only dimmed when Serefin tapped his eyepatch and spoke in that sour tone. Jacob rolled his eyes affectionately and turned Serefin around with both hands, answering him from too close behind him.
“I’m not sure what you mean. It bothers me that you’re not safe in your own head?” He poked his fingers into Serefin’s ribs as he came around next to him. Somewhere nearby a scream rose up from the darkness and Jacob shot a narrowed glance that way. After a tense moment of waiting, he spoke again as if he hadn’t been so rudely interrupted, but his eyes were still on the trees. “It bothers me that you’re not sleeping well and that the arsehole plaguing you isn’t something I can help you fight.”
Serefin might have complained that he was being spun around and led into unknown territory face-first—he liked the blissful ignorance of never seeing the danger coming, he liked ignoring the screaming that was trying to lure his attention in other directions. But he couldn't get the feeling of Jacob's hands on him, as brief as it was, to form any coherent objection. If Jacob had been warmed by feeling exceptional, Serefin's heart was racing at how unapologetically Jacob was saying he cared.
"I'm not completely helpless. Tired? Yes. Out of safe coping mechanisms? Absolutely. But not without my own capabilities. Although, if our roles were reversed, I would be equally distressed about your well being," Serefin said, not as an argument but as a reminder. A disappointing flash of uncertainty came over him—was Jacob interested or did he only want to protect him? Was he the sad waif? Had Evie gotten it all wrong?
A shadow of something cruel and hulking passed by in the fog, in the corner of Serefin's peripheral, and that had startled him; his hand flew up, to stop Jacob from coming closer or to pull him closer. The fear only lingered a moment, but his hand stayed roughly in place on Jacob's chest.
"I only meant, does it bother you that even when we're alone, we're not truly alone? I have been trying to figure out if that's why you haven't said anything when we are."
“I never said you were helpless,” Jacob sighed. “I said I feel helpless.” It was a little too direct and he grimaced, suddenly eager to get on with the scaring part of the evening. The shadow seemed to hear his thoughts with that timing. But Serefin’s hand pressed to his chest was as equally distracting as his words.
“I—“ Something rattled the bushes to the left and Jacob clamped a hand over Serefin’s on his chest to pull him forward down the path at a faster clip. “Wait.” He stopped after a few yards. The fog was even thicker here and the darkness felt unnaturally deep. The only thing that let them know where the path was were the little glowing lights along the trail. The world could easily have felt upside down without them.
“Wait,” he said again. The world might not have felt upside down but it did feel a little off-kilter. “You’ve been trying to figure out If that’s why I haven’t said anything about what?”
There was very little Serefin could do in the dark. He thought he might be better equipped with his blindfold training with Jacob and all that dexterity required to meet Diego week after week in the ring. But his senses felt strained and dull, slow to any immediacy. The creatures in the fog weren't real, but the fear of something after him—after them—allowed Serefin to be pulled along quickly through the path, without much hesitation.
When they stopped, Serefin was agonizingly slow in letting go of Jacob's hand. For one reason, if Jacob stepped a foot off the path and out of the shadows of the low lights, Serefin was certain he'd be swallowed into the fog and they'd lose one another. And the other reason was, well.
"Wait, what?" Serefin thought it was obvious what he meant, but Serefin had also been quite oblivious. Hopeless, really, until someone else pointed it out. Was it his turn to do the same for Jacob?
"Your interest," he said. Serefin meant it to come out more confident, but everything was suddenly so unsure. He couldn't see how that statement landed, couldn't sense Jacob's reaction in the inky mist surrounding their path.
Instead of waiting, Serefin just kept talking. "In me. My interest in you. Our interest in each other." It sounded so formal, like stiff courting techniques. It also sounded distressingly like reasserting their friendship; not the fact that Serefin had thought often about what it would feel like to put his hands on Jacob in earnest. To pull him in close and press his mouth against his with reckless, needy abandon.
Causing chaos. He was about to cause so much chaos to himself; Serefin hadn't mentioned that part over tea. He slid in close, closer, put his hands on Jacob with unabashed earnesty, and kissed him for one brief recklessly needy instant.
Jacob felt like he was on a ship with non-existent sea legs, scrambling for purchase. People didn’t often surprise him. Even the ones who stabbed him in the back didn’t really surprise him.
“I--” He’d stammered that already. Thankfully, Serefin was a step ahead and his hands shut Jacob up before his mouth made sure of it. As stunned stupid as he felt, Jacob was a creature of instinct. And his instinct had his hands in Serefin’s hair and his body pressing forward into the kiss until they were stumbling off the path and Serefin’s back hit a tree.
The stop in momentum shocked some sense into Jacob. His touch gentled. “Bollocks. Sorry. I’ve wanted to do that for months.” Old habits had him looking over a shoulder but there was nothing but fog and creepy shadows and a distant scream followed by laughter. “You really know how to keep a bloke guessing, did you know?”
Surprising Jacob had as many faults as it did merits. There was a flash of unreliability in the action—Serefin could have been making a terrible mistake. What if he misinterpreted all those looks and touches he had gotten away with? What if Evie had mistaken Jacob's interest for friendliness?. They were close, yes, and maybe that is what made this all confusing.
But all of that paled against the hot urgency of Jacob's mouth crashing right back into his. Much like before, Serefin let himself be led back, back, back, directed by Jacob. The hard stop against the tree shook him from the cloudy haze his mind had gone into. Kissing Jacob had done more to calm Serefin's brain than alcohol ever had.
"Months?" Serefin asked, sounding inordinately pleased. "I promise the guessing was unintentional. I would never have let it go on for so long, I was just—" Serefin lifted a hand, making a dismissive gesture, lost in the fog and the dark. "Did you know that I kept myself guessing? It was all incredibly confusing, I will have you know."
The fingers of his other hand curled into the fabric over Jacob's rook tattoo. "I would like to keep doing that before I start thinking about other things like the responsibility of it all and you start guessing again."
“Well, in all fairness, I was in my own bloody way for most of that time too,” Jacob admitted. He stared at a harmless stretch of Serefin’s neck rather than meet his eyes. Even ran his thumb over it a few times before looking up again again. “Evie was harping on me about needing to connect, but every time I do that, things go to pot.”
Even saying that didn’t stop him from darting forward again and stealing another kiss. It ended when a group passed them, talking and snickering, and Jacob’s hands dropped to his sides in an anxious way. Being this public was still an adjustment, but he didn’t actually stop pressing Serefin against the tree.
“Anyway,” he huffed,”what’s this about responsibility?”
For all of his practiced collectiveness, all that royal training drilled into him, Serefin's rapid-fire pulse was absolutely betraying him with Jacob gently touching his throat. It was like a test—the boundaries between them were down, how far would either of them go? What was allowed? He swallowed hard against the possibilities that were open to him now.
"Your sister is quite the meddler," Serefin said, glancing away as his face flushed with similar hesitation about being public. Serefin should have waited until they were alone in his apartment, but there was urgency burning constantly under his skin. Serefin felt a little panicked and unmoored, like he was always running out of time. He wanted to stop wasting it, and he wanted Jacob's hands back on him. He wanted to get lost in the hot press of Jacob's mouth.
He reached for another kiss, longer and little rougher than his previous ones. "I have never done this before," Serefin said, pulling away breathless. "I don't know what to do past kissing you, I did not think we would ever get this far. But I am relatively certain there is a requirement to talk about this rationally and responsibly with you."
Jacob was ready and willing to agree - Evie was a meddler...but she wasn’t exactly wrong either - only he got distracted watching Serefin’s mouth. That was going to be a Problem. Not that he was especially complaining when that mouth was back on his and the heat of this third kiss threatened to leave him dizzy. He left one hand clamped to the side of Serefin’s neck, but the other ended up clinging to his hip.
“Never…” Jacob’s brain took a second to power back up again and he blinked dumbly. Eventually, his eyes grew large and he felt a thrill race from the base of his spine up over his head.
“Oh, right. Wait...never with a man or never period?” He had just enough awareness of his surroundings to look over his shoulder again. There were scattered crowds making their way down the hiking path but nobody was close. “If you tell me your first kiss at all was me shoving you against a tree, I might need to punch myself in the face.”
Serefin's brow raised high as Jacob's question. Oh, if he was giving off the assumption he had never done this ever that might have been a far more tricky problem. But then he was slowly grinning, that devilishly mischievous kind. "I quite liked being shoved against the tree," Serefin said, his attention roaming with purpose, conveying his interest more physically than before. He curled his fingers around Jacob's wrist near his neck, holding him there.
It felt intense but comforting; Serefin couldn't quite explain it.
"But I meant never with a man, even if I considered it often. Despite what you might have heard about royalty, I am anything but abstinent. You were not my first kiss, but the image of you punching yourself in the face over it is—you wouldn't be flattered?" Serefin was teasing now, but it fell a little flat as he noticed Jacob look over his shoulder again in the dark.
The question what is it got tangled in his mouth when Serefin felt the warm slide of blood down his cheek from under his eyepatch. Not now.
Flushed for all sorts of reasons now, Jacob took his hand off Serefin’s hip just to cover his own face. He should’ve stuck with the kissing and kept his idiotic mouth shut. At least Serefin’s hand on his and that taunting took the edge off the burn of embarrassment in his chest. “I mean, yes, sure, flattered. And bloody impressed! You obviously don’t kiss like an amateur, I just--I’m shutting up now.”
Exhaling a bit dramatically, Jacob let his hand fall away to reveal his smirk but the twist to his mouth faded at the sight of blood.
“Oi, are you...” He brushed at the blood with his thumb. “Has this happened before? Are you in pain?”
Serefin had let his guard down, he knew that now. Everything had been too simple, too easy. He had been more terrified of Jacob's reaction to being kissed than the god inside his head and that apparently couldn't be. This is what he had warned Jacob about—they were never alone. Velyos had been patient. The god had waited for another moment to slip into consciousness. To send a reminder that he was always watching.
Kowesz Tawość, Velyos whispered, haunting in his mind.
He pulled Jacob's hand away. "Yes, it has, but don't, I—" There was the pain; Serefin's face twisted up in discomfort. It was dull at first, but growing right behind his god eye with intensity. Serefin thought he would be used to pain, but it was always a surprise at how much an intangible entity managed to cause so much harm against the very body it was living in.
The concern from Jacob was enough to break him. He couldn't risk another person, and weakly pushed Jacob away. "Back up. For just for a moment." It was said with such relative calm that Serefin couldn't believe it was his voice. "Because I might very well ask for a blade to stab the eye myself and I don't want—I don't want to be tempted."
Jacob’s instincts warred with what he was being ordered to do - not for the first time in his life. He’d been reaching to cradle Serefin’s pained face between his hands when he was nudged back and so his hands stayed frozen in the air for a moment. Helplessness always rankled. It had always felt better to make mistakes than not be able to do anything at all.
Annoyed by indecision, he scowled and took a step back, but he stubbornly stayed within reach. “I know the last few minutes might have given you some doubt, but I promise I can refuse you. And I’m barely armed anyway.” He had his assassin blade, because he felt naked without it, but that was all he had on him for once. Serefin would have to manhandle his gauntlet into position and twist Jacob’s fist just right to release the blade.
“How bad is it? Worse than a fist to the face?”
Serefin's fingers were curling into tight fists, because every instinct made him want to rip the eyepatch off and that would absolutely put Jacob in the most immediate danger. But blood and bone, if Serefin wasn't charmed by the fact of Jacob telling him he could still refuse him. He wanted to kiss him for it, but distractions.
"A punch in the face would be kinder," Serefin said, blood falling over his lip and down his chin. It was ghastly, and he was struggling to focus. To mentally force Velyos back and away. The whole process was harder now. Exhaustion was catching up with him in the worst ways. Serefin was certain that if Jacob wasn't standing in front of him, poised to help, he would have had no self-control and clawed half his face off for the old god.
His hand snapped out to grab for Jacob's again, unflinchingly tight. "It is my turn to promise that I will not hold it against you if—" A half dozen moths, the old god's signature, landed on the knuckles of their clasped hands and Serefin was quick to shake them off without letting go.
The piercing discomfort in his eye didn't ease, but he managed a bitter smile, when he said, "If you knock me unconscious right now. Just do not leave me in the woods?"
The unsettling moths and Serefin’s tight grip did nothing to ease Jacob’s mind, but they did give him an excuse to grasp Serefin tighter by the forearm and inch back into his space. “Is that what your romantic trysts usually look like? Ambushed and abandoned in the woods? I’d like to set a better precedent, if it’s alright with you.”
Jacob’s eagle vision showed a worrying swirl of red in Serefin’s aura. Maybe not more than usual but more active than usual. He had to wonder if this was because of him. Were the gods of Serefin’s world against this kind of attraction?
“You said this happened before.” He mentally calculated how far they were from the entrance without taking his eyes off Serefin’s. If he had to knock him out, he could carry him that far. “Did something help then?”
"Is that what we're calling this, a romantic tryst? It was in hallways and there was far less blood. But I would like—I would like to see your precedent," Serefin said, sounding both hopeful and pained. He wanted this night to go better than it currently was. It had been, and Serefin would do anything to return to when they were kissing. That was nice.
Locking eyes with Jacob had been the only thing to keep his focus centered. A brief moment where Serefin wasn't thinking about clawing at his god eye. He might actually be able to shove Velyos away.
You can try, Velyos responded back, too aware for Serefin's liking. The eyepatch was supposed to be minimal protection and it felt like a ruse now. Did it even matter if he wore it?
"It was uncovered last time, with Diego, in the ring. And I believed that—'' There was a flash of the Kalyazi forest, the altar, the robed figure of the banished god. A dark thought, not his own, needled into his mind—a traitorous bloodied desire to remove Jacob from standing in the way. A promise or a warning from Velyos, Serefin didn't know. But all the more reason to keep control, if he could.
And then as quickly as Serefin could feel everything slipping again, the agony in his skull stopped and Velyos let go. His whole body went slack, overwhelmed with exhaustion. "I think this qualifies as things going to pot."
Thankfully, Jacob had such a close eye on Serefin that he spotted exactly when the strength left him. He stepped in close and grasped Serefin by the biceps, propping him against the tree. A small voice in the back of his own head thought he should be more scared. More cautious. Feelings only led to trouble. But that voice also sounded like his father and Jacob wasn’t in the habit of listening to anything that sounded like his father.
“Says you. You’re still on both feet and you haven’t started speaking in tongues. Well, there was that one bit, what was it?” He tried parroting Kowesz Tawość back to him, but it was hopelessly butchered. “Remind me to ask what that means when you don’t look whiter than a sheet.” Serefin’s face felt cold to the touch, like he’d bled a great deal more than he had. Jacob frowned. “Has it stopped then?”
"For now, yes," Serefin murmured, as he reached for Jacob for stability. He already despised how much he spent mentally fighting Velyos. But now that the god was prodding around in his consciousness for vulnerabilities and weaknesses—the emotional and physical kinds, the man currently holding him upright—it was worse somehow. Serefin gave Jacob a long, worrying look, before closing his eyes against Jacob's warm hands on his skin.
"Tell me, are you trying to flatter me? I will have you know it's working. Getting by on the bare minimum of consciousness is impressive, but you could never get through Tranavia with that accent," Serefin said, defaulting to humor with some self-deprecation. It was better than admitting that Velyos still felt close to the surface, and that even if the pain stopped he could still feel it like a phantom limb.
He didn't like Jacob frowning, though. If he was going to attempt to fix this evening, he was going to start with that. "I was having a nice time, before all the blood and moths, you know."
Jacob wasn’t convinced Serefin was anywhere near out of the woods, as they said. But then they were still lurking in an actual wood. More people were starting to traverse the hiking path too. Louder people. Curious people. Jacob traced his hand from Serefin’s face down over his shoulder and arm. He paused at his forearm, a ridiculous half-formed desire tripping him up.
“That might be why the blood and moths happened,” he murmured. “I imagine he uses your distraction to wedge into the cracks. Strong emotions, good or bad. They’re…well, I’m not saying they’re a weakness, but…” Jacob wet his lips and clenched his jaw for a moment before seeming to shake it off.
“What do you want to do? Push through? Sit for a bit?” A smirk twitched at his mouth and his gaze went mischievous. “I could throw you over a shoulder and carry you out of here. You seem to be fond of being carried.”
"Oh, you can say they are weaknesses. He knows everything I do, it was only a matter of time," Serefin said, not as worried, but more resigned. As if Jacob was finally voicing the realities he had been ignoring because Serefin had desperately wanted to keep it under control without involving anyone else.
Serefin thought about Jacob's offers.. What did he want to do? Pushing through felt like a monumental task, and sitting had the possibility attached that he might not actually get back up. Serefin glanced up at Jacob just in time to see his expression shift into that ridiculously charming roguish grin. Serefin canted his head to one side, curiously, then glanced away with teasing nonchalance.
"If you are offering, then I cannot possibly say no," Serefin said, but he hesitated. Like he wanted to do something else, maybe kiss him again. But instead he shuffled back and held his arms out. "Ready when you are."
“Better weak than dead inside,” Jacob announced a little bitterly. At least he tried to make up for the tone by reaching for Serefin’s outstretched hand and kissing his palm before he spun around and backed up into Serefin’s space without warning.
“In retrospect, I should’ve expected you’d say yes to such a ridiculous offer. But I’m actually not keen on tipping you upside down when you were just bleeding out of your face. So how about…” He reached to hook Serefin’s arms around his neck and crouched a bit. “Hop up and will make it a princely piggyback.” He smirked over his shoulder and lowered his voice to an apologetic whisper. “Kingly piggyback doesn’t have the same ring, sorry.”
Serefin's brows furrowed in a moment of confusion, before he made a small noise of understanding as Jacob crouched down. He wasted no time of hopping onto Jacob's back, arms tight around his neck, his chin on Jacob's shoulder.
"I believe we have figured out that neither of us can do anything the other expects, this night is no exception," Serefin said, his palm still tingling from Jacob's mouth against it. That felt thrilling in its own right.
Secure around Jacob's back, Serefin nudged him forward. He was eager to get out of this forest, this fog, this unfamiliar place. "And I am neither prince nor king with you, so a regular piggyback is just fine."