Darkest Before the Dawn (male/male)
Enjoying Too Much

Felix

After Bartholomew got out of the shower, I handed him my credit card. His gray shirt clung to him, his torso still damp from his dripping hair. His eyes were hooded, exhausted and silently begging for sleep. It was a look on him that felt exposed and private, and I was privileged to be able to see it.

“Use this for breakfast in the morning. Just get it back to me when we’re on Mazerene tomorrow.” I held the card with just the tips of my fingers, fearing my reaction if our digits were to accidentally touch.

“I’m going to find the most expensive pancakes in Atlanta and use this."

“Pancakes?”

“Barty loves pancakes,” Marigold explained, coming up behind her partner to snag my card from his hand. “It’s kind of a wonder how he isn’t morbidly obese with how many pancakes he’s eaten over the years.”

My teeth bit down hard on the inside of my lip to stop a grin from growing. “That’s…” Don’t say adorable. “Peculiar. I didn't take you for a sweet breakfast food type.”

“I don’t play with alcohol and breakfast food. I’m on a strict diet nine times out of ten, so I can allow myself some chocolate chip pancakes every now and then.” He shrugged and turned towards the couch, a sheet and blanket folded on top of it. “I guess you don’t really understand.”

I think it was meant to be a dig at my diet of only blood, but he sounded like a petulant child, bragging about things that he got to enjoy while others couldn’t. “I’ve had pancakes before. They’re nothing exciting.”

“I’m sure they were different back then.” He unfolded his bed sheet and arranged it properly on the couch, all while not noticing the narrowed eye look I was giving him.

I put my hand on my hip and sagged some. “How old do you think I am? I’m not ancient or anything.”

He stood to his full height and drew his face into one of contemplation. “I don’t know. Two or three hundred years old?”

From the other room where Marigold had already tucked herself into bed, she guffawed. “Barty, no. No, no. He’s—”

“Don’t tell him!” I demanded, laughing because this was going to drive him crazy if we never told him my age. “We’ll keep that secret.”

Bartholomew glared at me, then went back to making his makeshift bed. “I don’t care enough to pry more.” He was pouting.

“Felix, are you staying tonight or heading out soon?” Marigold called.

“I’ll be leaving when Madeline returns. We’ll stay at my house for tomorrow, then head to Mazerene tomorrow evening.” Being alone in my house, up in the foothills, was usually comforting. Madeline being there made my skin crawl.

“We can go with you,” Bartholomew offered, sitting on top of his blankets and playing with his phone. “I know she makes you uncomfortable. I’d like to see that.”

“You’re so sweet,” I deadpanned, attempting to hide that I really did find it kind of him to offer, despite the lack of altruistic purposes. “I’ll be okay for a night. You two should enjoy the hotel while you can.”

“I absolutely will,” Marigold groaned. She was swaddled in the comforter. “I want all of these blankets on my own bed. They're heavenly.”

“I’m so glad you’re enjoying that,” Bartholomew mumbled. He fluffed up the scratchy decorative pillow on the couch, fixing his mouth into a scowl.

His expression altered slightly as his phone started ringing, almost like one of concealed happiness. “Cadence is on Skype if you wanna talk to her, Goldie.” His eyes trailed over me briefly, then returned to his phone when he hit the answer button.

"Heyyy, Mew.” Cadence had a sweet voice, one that was gentle and warm, like an evening cap I used to drink to help me fall asleep. “I was seeing when you’d be home tomorrow. Connie has an appointment tomorrow since she hasn't been eating, but I have to be in the office for an interview. Can you take her?”

Bartholomew rolled his eyes and sighed. “Put her on,” he demanded, and I stepped closer, trying to figure out who Connie was and why Bartholomew was now furrowing his eyebrows at the screen. “She looks as fat as mud. She can stand to lose a few pounds.”

“Don’t let her get skinny!” Goldie hollered. “Orange cats deserve to be fat!”

“You have cats?” I found myself asking, thinking of my own cat back at home.

“Is that Felix?” Cadence asked, her voice growing with happiness. I loved that everyone in Bartholomew’s life liked me so much more than he ever could. “Show him to me!”

“Lucifer’s fall,” Bartholomew growled, turning his phone screen towards me. His sister looked far more casual than I was used to, shrouded in a white fluffy robe and her long brown hair pulled into a loose bun. “We met with him and our suspect, and she put us up in this bougies hotel downtown. He’s waiting for her to get back before he leaves.”

“Felix, what the fuck, I’ve been asking to hang out with you for weeks now! You’re cheating on me with my brother.” Her grin was glowing. “Is he being nice to you or do I have to kick his ass?”

I see-sawed my hand and scrunched my nose. “He could definitely be nicer,” I teased, not stopping the laugh that emerged from me when Bartholomew glowered at me, silently asking how I could put him in such a line of danger.

“I’ve been nothing but nice to you, dammit. Fuck you.”

“You sound about as nice as a pissed off snake,” Cadence chided. “Be good to him, you dick.” She exhaled loudly, shaking her head. “You’re too good for him, Felix.”

“That’s what I’m thinking,” I agreed, boldly sitting by Bartholomew again. His soap made him smell like mint and bergamot, making me want to bury my face in his shirt. He usually smelled of vanilla and coffee, like how bakeries of Paris used to smell, something that was familiar and dear to me. “Is your cat by you?” I could spend the whole night studying Bartholomew. Putting myself back into the conversation was best for me.

“We actually have two, but Skippy is in the living room. This—” she rotated the camera so that it displayed a massive orange cat on the foot of her bed “—is Connie, which is my cat. Skippy is Mew’s cat.”

“Mew?”

“Cadence,” Bartholomew growled, a warning to his sister.

“Oh, holy shit, he’s never told you my nickname for him?” Cadence flipped the camera back onto her, her glasses unable to conceal the wicked glint in her eyes. “I’ve called him Mew since we were basically kids. All his friends call him Barty, but I needed something special for him. He absolutely hates it, especially if I call him Mewbert."

“Mew.” I tried it out, finding that this name really fit him the best. My grin was large and malicious.

“Go back to Hell,” Bartholomew—Mew—hissed, pointing his finger at his sister. I thought I was in the clear until that finger was turned on me. “And you go sit in the sunshine. Fuck you both.”

“Don’t be such a baby,” Cadence chided, readjusting herself to pull the covers up to her chin. “You guys should go adventuring tomorrow. You never get a chance to go to Atlanta."

“Goldie wanted to go to the aquarium or the Coke museum tomorrow,” Bartholomew explained, sleep lacing his voice, the rumbling of it stronger than usual.

“I'm gonna try all the samples." Marigold was now standing in the archway between the living room and bedroom.

Cadence gave a breathy laugh at that. “Felix, are you gonna be around the island tomorrow night? I’d love to take you out for a drink after work.”

“That’s a little unprofessional, Cade,” Bartholomew warned, glancing between me and his sister. He had already made it known that I wasn’t supposed to affiliate with her, making me want to talk to her all the more. Anything at all just to jab him as much as I could.

“We don’t work for each other. It’s just coworkers going for a drink. Relax, Mew, damn.” Her voice was steady, but irritated, probably used to her brother acting like this. “You and Goldie can come if you’re so worried.”

“How about I let you know when I’m free, and we’ll go from there,” I offered, hoping it would get them to stop bickering. I never had a sibling growing up since it was easier traveling with just one child, so seeing the dynamics between these two was intriguing. I knew they loved each other, although demonstrated it in a peculiar way.

“That’s fine with me. Hopefully I’ll see you tomorrow, then. Goldie, make sure Mew is nice to Felix so he doesn’t get fired.” Before her brother could argue again, she ended the video call.

“She makes me want to choke myself,” Bartholomew grumbled next to me.

“But then who would I pick on?” He was tired and upset, probably bad timing for me to make a joke.

Instead of saying anything biting, he rolled his eyes and stood up, stretching out his back and arms. Marigold caught my eye and winked at me before I could point my attention anywhere else. “I’ll wait until Madeline gets back to lock up if you want to go to bed, Goldie.”

“You sure?” the nymph asked, already taking a step back into the room.

Her partner nodded and grabbed the TV remote. “Go ahead. You drove all day. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Sounds good. See you in the morning for breakfast. Later, Felix.”

She left me and Bartholomew alone, both of us seated on the couch now, Mew flipping through the TV stations. “What do you watch?”

His voice was so soft that I mistook him talking to himself until I realized he was looking right at me. His body was about two feet from mine, one leg tucked up under himself and the other with his knee bent and supporting his chin. It was such a delicate position. There was a softness to him that I didn't think he could possess beyond the crassness of his typical personality.

“Oh, I like Nat Geo and the Smithsonian channels a lot. There’s some really good animal shows.” I almost stopped there because he wouldn’t have cared what I had to say, but he flipped past an old episode of Bones. “I love crime dramas, too. I like trying to piece together the evidence before they can.”

“You’re trying to prove yourself against a scripted TV show. You need new hobbies, man.”

“You can’t tell me you’ve watched these shows and haven’t been pleased with yourself that you solved the case before the characters could. It’s a simple pleasure.”

He sighed, readjusting himself so that he was sitting with his legs crisscrossed on the couch. “I’ve seen every episode of Bones, like, three times now. It’s really well written.” He languidly pointed at the television. “This is the episode where Hodgins and Brennan are buried alive by the Gravedigger.”

“That used to be a major fear of mine. I was absolutely terrified at the idea of being buried alive and being unable to escape.” I shrugged when his face turned into something inquisitive. “I stopped worrying about it when I stopped having to breathe.”

“When was that?” It was cute that he was trying to be sly.

Instead, I let my lips curl into a smile and brought my left leg up, hugging it to my chest. “I’ll ask you a question instead: why are you waiting until Madeline returns to go to sleep?” I certainly wasn’t going to complain. His eyes were bloodshot, and he was fighting back his need to close his eyelids.

It meant a lot to me, regardless of his intentions.

“I have to lock up behind you,” he responded, scowling.

“Hotel doors lock when they close. Why are you really staying up?”

He rolled his eyes, again shifting about and sinking into his seat. Arched eyebrows were furrowed, almost in a slight pout, but not as angry as usual. “You’re my boss. I feel some obligation to make sure you’re safe. Otherwise, I probably would’ve sent you with her so I could have fallen asleep ages ago.”

I froze briefly because it was sweeter than he meant it to be. “Aww, you do like me,” I teased, holding my face with both of my hands and grinning.

“You look like a maniacal chipmunk. Stop it,” he demanded, quickly pressing his lips together into a tight line, like someone resisting a smile. He cleared his throat and turned back towards the TV, no longer tempted by my humor. “I just dislike her more than I dislike you. An enemy of my enemy is a friend.”

“That’s rather philosophical of you.”

“I heard it when watching Alien vs Predator so I can't take credit.” His dry jokes never failed to make me laugh, regardless of how embarrassing it was when he blinked slowly at me, disbelieving that I would dare laugh at the funny thing he said.

After a few minutes of silence between us, he opened his mouth, exhaled shortly, then snapped his mouth shut again. He rearranged himself once more, his arms folded over his chest and lean legs stretched out, socked feet on the coffee table. There were little foxes on the green socks. “You seem like you have something to say,” I noted quietly, tipping my head at him, wondering what was bothering him so much, dying for him to tell me.

He scrubbed his hand through his damp hair and sighed. “Earlier, when Madeline mentioned Richard and what happened to me and all that bullshit. Don’t get the idea that I’m weak or anything. I’ve been waiting to kill him for the past two decades, so you can’t kick me off this case.” As surreptitiously as he could, he squeezed his arms tightly before settling his hands in his lap. I hadn’t noticed that his claws had become elongated. While I wanted him to keep talking, it seemed like he was done, his lips once more in a tight line.

Imitating his earlier position of sitting crisscrossed, I hugged myself, a little chill passing through the room, as if the universe was telling me not to say anything else. “I’m not going to say sorry for what happened to you because that won’t fix anything,” I started, talking lowly, the TV almost drowning out my voice. He lowered the volume for me, eyes never straying from the screen. “I also won’t apologize on behalf of vampires since the one who hurt you is sick and wrong. We’re not all like that.” Pausing, I watched his face, hoping for some sort of response, receiving nothing. ”I’m not like that.”

“I know,” he grumbled. “You’re incredibly mundane and take yourself too seriously, but I know you aren’t like Richard.”

The corner of my mouth pulled up. “I won’t apologize about anything that’s happened to you because what’s done is done. As your boss and as someone your sister and best friend have put trust into, I can help you move past it as best as I can. I want to be able to help you do what needs to be done with him.”

His throat jumped as he swallowed, contemplation washing over his handsome face. I’d stare at him all night if he’d let me, studying the little muscles in his face as they softened and hardened again, switching back and forth with their functions.

I liked analyzing art, and he was one of the finest exhibits I had ever seen.

“So what are your—” We simultaneously froze, our bodies both going rigid. Jasmine and oolong filled the air around us, savory and tempting. “Looks like it’s time for you to go,” Mew murmured. I hoped it was disappointment in his voice.

“Finish your question,” I pleaded softly, begging for there to be more time. It wasn’t long enough with him, not when he had started talking to me like a person and not just because he was required to. I’d answer every question he had, regardless of how personal it was, as long as it meant getting to talk to him.

Instead, he stood up and was already crossing to the door, my stomach sinking. Time was up. “It wasn’t anything important,” he assured, unlocking the door and pulling it open. On the other side was Madeline, two suitcases on either side of her. He blocked the doorway, indicating to her that she clearly wasn’t welcome inside anymore. “I’ll know if you hurt him,” I heard him warn her. He was so precious when the anger wasn’t aimed at me.

“He’ll be fine. I’m sure you’ll see him again tomorrow. Relax, demon,” Madeline responded, annoyed.

Bartholomew turned back towards me, stepping aside, allowing me to leave if I wanted. I didn’t want to. It was the right thing to get up and go, though. “I’ll call you tomorrow evening as soon as the sun goes down. Go ahead to Mazerene tomorrow so we can do the questioning.” There was more that I wanted to say to him, about how I enjoyed being able to relax with him and how nice it was to talk with him.

My lips stayed shut.

“Are we ready?” Madeline asked once the hotel door closed behind us. “I thought if you took one of my suitcases, it would be easier.”

“I got it,” I responded, pulling the handle of the bag closest to me. “My guestroom is all made up for you.”

“You won’t let me stay in your bed with you?” She reached out to rearrange my hair, pushing locks away from my eyebrows and trying to flatten down the pieces that liked to stick up. “You look so much more handsome with your hair smoothed back, like you’re civilized. Not this—” She waved her fingers at my head. “Tousled style that men seem to like so much. It’s not attractive.”

“My job isn’t to make sure you find me cute.” I started us off down the hallway, pulling her luggage behind me, finding it to be all too familiar with this scene. We had often traveled around the east coast when we were together, always opting to carry our suitcases and just use our speed to get from place to place. Typically, she was in front of me, leading me, demanding where we go. It was nice to be in control for once with her.

At about one in the morning, we arrived at my cabin, thankful that I had made it without stumbling again. Hades greeted me as soon as I opened the door, winding around my legs and mewling, only to trot away when Madeline followed me inside. “Oh, a cat,” she said distastefully, upper lip curling. “How do you stand the smell?”

“There’s special litter and litter boxes you can buy. And he cleans himself and lets me bathe him every so often.” Kneeling, I extended my hand towards Hades, rubbing my fingers together. He immediately returned to me, rubbing his face against my hand to get as much attention as he could. “He’s a little angel baby.”

Behind me, Madeline scoffed and muttered something in Cantonese that I was unfamiliar with. “So which room is going to be mine?” she asked, eyes dancing around my home. It had been recently updated with cherry wood floors and a fireplace with a stone backsplash. “This is very odd taste for you. Lots of color.”

“I like the colors,” I muttered, feeling ashamed of my house for the first time. I had bought it about three years before, loving the placement at the secluded mouth of a lake and how it looked like a ranch style home with a long porch. I had made it my own place of comfort, donning the house with different shades of fall, from my red couch to the golden rug and pumpkin orange accent chairs.

She ran her fingers along the fireplace mantle and picked up a photo of me and Marigold that I had framed. “She’s a very interesting girl, that nymph.” Returning the picture to its place, she half turned to look at me, a knowing smile on her lips. “Do you have an interest in this girl?”

“Marigold? Absolutely not. She’s sweet, and we’re friends, but I don’t see her as anything beyond that.”

“But you do have an interest in someone. You’re behaving differently. Any other time, you would have listened to everything I told you to do.” Her eyebrows raised, like she was piecing everything together. I had to force myself to stand still and not fidget to give anything away. “It’s that demon, then?”

“No. He just works for me.” Apparently, I hesitated a millisecond too long or my answer wasn’t as well thought out as I wanted because Madeline began to grin.

“That bastard has your heart. Maybe he’ll be my next blood sample, just to see what this whole demon blood thing is about.”

“Don’t you dare touch him.” Keeping my voice even suddenly became difficult with how she was stretching her fingers and rolling her neck, something she used to before she would go hunting.

“Relax, Felix. I won’t touch your plaything.” Her mouth stayed open, like she was tempted to stay more but thought better of it, choosing rather to turn back towards her bags and grab them. “Which door goes to the guestroom?”

I guided her across the living room and straight back through the kitchen, opening the door off to the side of the oven. “This is your bedroom for now. There's a bathroom if you need to shower.”

She brought her bags to her bed and laid them on top, immediately unzipping them and pulling out a pair of pajamas. “Where’s your bedroom? You know, in case I get scared or lonely tonight.”

I found myself laughing nervously at her implications, wondering if I had given her enough of a message of don’t come bother me throughout the night. Even Mew had stepped in for me to tell her off. “You’ll be fine. Just make sure you’re up at sunset tomorrow so we can go to Mazerene.”

Without any warning, she undid the zipper on her skirt and shimmied it down her long legs, giggling when I turned my head because the opposite wall suddenly became extremely interesting. “What’s going to happen to me tomorrow, Fee? At least tell me that.” From my peripheral vision, I saw her remove her blouse and toss it aside, standing in nothing but thin undergarments now. Her bra was quickly added to the pile of stranded clothing.

“You’ll be brought to an interrogation room for further questioning by Marigold, Bartholomew, and one of the Council Members. After, you’ll either be arrested or will have to stay on the island so we can pull you for more questioning.” At this point, I had turned around so that my back was facing her. She was sitting on the bed without any indication that she’d be getting dressed soon.

“Are you going to take my plea deal?”

“I’m leaving that up to Bartholomew and Marigold. This began as their investigation, so they can decide on the plea bargain.” My body went rigid when Madeline’s arms slipped around me, her lithe body pressing firmly against my back, trying to mold to me so carefully. “Madeline,” I growled, canines hurting as adrenaline surged through my body, urging me to shove her off of me.

“Come bathe with me, like we used to do,” she whispered in my ear, lips grazing the lobe. “I’m scared about tomorrow and want some comfort.” Her fingers were circling around the hem of my shirt and lining along the top of my jeans. She smelled so wonderfully of jasmine and tea that it began to cloud my thoughts, everything that we had done together flying to the forefront of my mind. I knew her body so well, some part of me wanting to map it out again to see if it had changed any since the last time we were together.

My phone dinging shook away the fog in my brain. “S-Sorry,” I murmured, shaking Madeline off to reach into my back pocket.

Did you make it home safely, lame-o?

It was about 1:15 in the morning, and Mew had stayed up to make sure I was safe. He should have been asleep but was texting me instead. I had to rub my eyes to make sure I read it correctly and that it wasn’t Marigold or Cadence or anyone else who would text me. He’d be the only one to call me “lame-o” though, like it was the 90s again.

I made it safely. See you tomorrow. Then before sending it, I added, nervous Nancy to the end of the text just to pick on him more. “I’m going up to my room to work on some notes,” I announced, making sure there was now distance between myself and Madeline.

“You’re leaving me because he texted you?” she asked incredulously, hands on her hips. It was like that text had ripped away any allure that she had over me, all of the pull suddenly gone.

“Yeah. I have to focus on what I want for my future, not stay locked up in my past.” My eyes searched the floor now, hoping I was brave enough to speak like this. It wasn’t like me to be so open with my distaste towards her. “I’ll see you tomorrow evening.”

“He’s going to break you the same way that I broke you,” Madeline warned. “I can promise you that. You’re weak-willed, Felix.”

“You’ve broken me so far beyond what you know. He has no chance of doing what you did to me.” I think my hands were trembling. “I’m trying so goddamn hard to move on from you and everything that you did when we were together, but you have bent and torn me in so many directions that I don’t know where to start other than by trying to fully invest my emotions into someone else.”

“I made you a stronger vampire!” I had touched a nerve.

“You made me a weaker person!” The scorned look on her face was like I had slapped her, so I shut my mouth. I left her room in a hurry, heading around the kitchen and up the column of stairs that took me to my own room, Hades already curled up in my bed. Part of me expected Madeline to follow, but she never did, the house remaining silent other than the wind hitting it.

It wasn’t easy to relax now. I showered and got ready for bed with my most comfortable pair of pajamas and put on the nighttime news that I loved watching. Even with my preparations, I couldn’t unwind, my body fidgety from the rush of anger and anxiety that had flooded me. My fangs were still trying to shrink. I thought about burying myself in work to update the case, finding it hard to do when my mind kept floating back and forth between what happened downstairs and what must have been on Mew’s mind these past few hours before he texted me.

But he had texted me. He had cared enough to make sure that I was home. And he finally found someone he disliked more than me.

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