Alcuin

[thenorthman]

Once Kersen and his progeny were out of his club, Eric finally flew off to Alcuin's home. He hadn't been here since that first night he had met the boy, and now he stood outside his door, wondering what the fuck he was even doing here. Caring about a human, or close enough.

Still, he rang the bell, standing on the doorstep and listening for Alcuin's approach through the door.

Comments

[thenorthman]

"I would hope so," Eric confirmed, small smile still playing on the edges of his lips, before it faded. "How did it feel? Her biting you."

[alcuin]

"It was frightening," Alcuin said. "I don't know that it hurt that much, but I was too panicked to feel much of anything but fear."

[thenorthman]

Eric nodded. He guessed he had intervened too quickly; not that he would have done things differently. "I'm glad I was nearby."

[alcuin]

"Me too," Alcuin said. "Will you come sit down? I feel bad that there's nothing I can offer you by way of hospitality." But he found that he really didn't want him to leave yet.

[thenorthman]

"How about a tour of your home?" Eric asked, instead of agreeing. He was curious to see where Alcuin lived.

[alcuin]

"All right," Alcuin said, smiling brightly at him.

He led Eric into the living room, which was small and seemed not terribly used. Alcuin did not spend a lot of time watching television. There were a few paintings on the walls, all of which had belonged to Anafiel, and he had very good taste. "And through there is the kitchen," he said, pointing. "I've become a fairly proficient cook, actually, not that that's very helpful for you I suppose."

[thenorthman]

"Not helpful, no, but we do have a very developed sense of smell," Eric replied, stepping over to one of the paintings. It looked like Italian Renaissance, and depicted a nubile young man offering a glass of wine to an elder one, reclining on a Roman couch in what seemed like a wood.

[alcuin]

"That was a favorite of Anafiel's," said Alcuin, following his gaze. "One of the lesser Italian renaissance painters. I might have kept all of his art if I could. He had good taste. But I couldn't stand living in a huge house all alone."

[thenorthman]

"What did you do with the rest of it?" Eric asked, hands in his pockets as he turned back to look at Alcuin.

[alcuin]

"Some I donated to small museums," Alcuin said. "Some I sold to collectors. And some is in storage because I couldn't bear to part with it." He smiles. "There's more upstairs, come see."

He led Eric up the stairs where there were two rooms. The one where he led him first appeared to be an office but mostly a library - two walls filled floor to ceiling with books, and another one with more art. There were framed sketches here as well, an architectural drawing of Paris, and also a figure study of a naked young man lounging in bed with his back turned, head bent towards a book. To an observant eye it was clearly Alcuin. And also, above the desk there was a painted portrait of Anafiel Delaunay, handsome and regal.

[thenorthman]

Eric looked at the sketch of Alcuin, but made no comment, and his gaze swept over the drawing of Paris before he stepped over to the books, reading titles off of their spines. "Do you like Paris?"

[alcuin]

"It's where I'm from," said Alcuin, watching him. "I lived there until I was thirteen, when my mother died. Do you read a lot?"

[thenorthman]

That wasn't what Eric had asked, but he let it go. "There are many hours to a century," he answered, instead. "Eternity would be too long without books."

[alcuin]

"Even my short life would be unbearable without books," said Alcuin, clearly pleased with his answer. He always lit up when he talked about books.

"Hannibal did the drawing of Paris," he said. "I do miss it sometimes."

[thenorthman]

"Don't you ever go back?" Eric asked. He hadn't set foot in France for a little while himself. Not since Sylvie, and being forced to go to fucking Louisiana.

[alcuin]

"Sometimes," Alcuin said. "Was there for a short trip earlier this year. Even went back to the rather bad part of town where I grew up. But everything is different now, of course. I imagine you have that experience a lot."

[thenorthman]

"You could say that," Eric sardonically agreed. "Where were you born?"

[alcuin]

"Oh actually... here in London, but I don't remember it. My father died shortly after I was born, and my mother moved back to Paris. She... was a prostitute, and I grew up around a brothel, for the most part. Until I was twelve. She died, and that is when Anafiel took me in and brought me here. He was my father's best friend."

[thenorthman]

"He was more than that to you," Eric stated, because that much was obvious.

[alcuin]

Alcuin hesitated. Not because he didn't think it was obvious, but because for whatever reason he assumed that Eric knew about his past. It seemed like everyone else did.

"Yes," he said. "Later. I was very much in love with him. We were together for a short while, before his death." He glanced at the portrait unconsciously, and then quickly away.

[thenorthman]

"You still love him," Eric stated, even as he very evenly stepped over to Alcuin.

[alcuin]

"I - well. Yes. I miss him very much."

Alcuin hated how he felt his pulse quicken a bit just from Eric moving closer to him.

[thenorthman]

"Is he the first person you loved, and lost?" Eric asked, saying nothing of the increased rhythm of Alcuin's pulse, even as he stepped right into his personal space.

[alcuin]

"Yes," said Alcuin softly, wondering where he was going with this.

[thenorthman]

Eric wasn't going anywhere in particular; he only wanted to know Alcuin better. "Is he the only person you loved and lost?" he asked, raising a hand to cup Alcuin's face, his other one sliding around his waist.