Infatuation - 2001 by Mom-Ra
   
Nick and Vachon go out to play.  LaCroix stops by Nick�s place for a visit and Vachon re-evaluates his feelings for the 'creepy old fossil'. Nothing graphic, just good clean fun. 

Special Thanks! to Dave at "New Tribe" for his helpful hints and insight.

* * * * * * * *

Nick adjusted the stereo controls, boosting the bass and mid-range just a bit, as another song began, it was one of his current favorites.  The music was somber, yet beautiful; the lyrics spoke of loneliness and isolation,  He grabbed a wineglass on his way up to a narrow windowsill along the wall; he liked to sit up there and look out through the skylight when he wanted to muse, or brood.  As he listened to the song, he waited for his usual melancholy to wash over him.  But the music seemed at odds with his mood.  For some reason he could not fathom, he felt happy.   


Nick wanted to hear something else, and looked about for the remote, until he spotted it on the coffee table.  Without thinking, he jackknifed off the ledge, tucking just in time to land on his feet.  He flipped through his CD collection until he found something livelier, refilled the disc changer and turned the volume up. 


The loft needed a bit of straightening, Nick saw there were several corks scattered on the floor.  He'd gotten into the habit of pulling them out of the bottle with his teeth and spitting them out any which way.
"Boy, what a slob."  he said out loud, poking at a cork with his foot.  He was about to get the broom, when he felt a familiar presence above him.  He waved up at Vachon, and called, "Hey!  Come on in." 


Vachon dropped down through the skylight.  "I could hear the music half a mile away." he grinned, "Having a party?"   

Nick turned the volume down slightly.  "Good thing I don't have any neighbors to annoy." he said with a smile. 

"Tell me,"  Vachon inquired, "why so festive this evening?  Win the lottery, or something?" 

"Just felt like it."  said Nick, "Hey, do you feel like going out?"   

"Sure.  Where?" 

"Anywhere but the Raven." 

Vachon agreed.  "I've been there every night this week."  He looked sideways at Nick.  "You're not going to wear that, are you?" 

Nick glanced down at his clothes, "What's wrong with what I've got on?" 

"Nothing.  You look fine, like you're going to a board meeting. Or a funeral." 


*   *   *   *   *   *   *   * 	 


Vachon stopped rummaging through Nick's closet to pull out a lilac baseball jacket.  
"You don't actually wear this, do you?"  he taunted, then put it back and took out a black shirt with wide silver stripes.
"Yuck."  He looked at Nick with pity. 

"Janette gave that to me."  Nick said, defensively.  "Look, can we just go?"  

Vachon tossed him a pair of black jeans and grey tee shirt.  "Put these on." 


While Nick changed his clothes, they argued about how to spend the evening.  There weren't any movies currently showing either of them wanted to see.  Vachon didn't want to listen to some old geezer give a lecture about Mesopotamian art, and Nick wasn't about to go see a band called Pony Girls of the Apocalypse.     

"Hey, I've got an idea."  Vachon said suddenly, "I've been wanting to get my tongue pierced.  We could go do that." 

Nick showed Vachon his fangs.  "Come here, I'll pierce your tongue for you, right now." 

"No, I want one of those little stud-things."  Vachon laughed, "You could get one, too."

"No, thanks. I'll just watch.  Why do you want one, anyway?" 

"You really don't know?"  Vachon couldn't believe it.  "You are so square, Nick.  Watch."  
He flicked his tongue along his middle finger, then slipped it into his mouth.   

Nick opened his eyes very wide.  "Oh."  he said in a small voice.  "Really?" 

Vachon threw an arm across his shoulder.  "Come on, let's get out of here." 


*   *   *   *   *   *   *   * 


They headed over to Queen West, to investigate the body art shops.  They set down in an alley way behind the Fluid Lounge, then walked up Duncan and over to Queen, checking out the club hoppers as they went.   The mortal boys and girls seemed to be full of high spirits, preening and strutting for each other, spilling out of coffee bars and clubs onto the sidewalk in large, noisy bunches.  Nick and Vachon watched the grown-up kids and smiled at each other. 

"Were we ever that young?"  Nick asked.
 
"I don't know about you, querido, but I was already on my way to plunder El Dorado by the time I was their age." 

"One of Pizarro's little helpers, were we?" 

"Well, at least I wasn't going around spreading Papist propaganda."  Vachon smirked. 

"What *were* you spreading around, Javito?"  Nick laughed and nudged him in the ribs.   

Vachon grinned at him, then stopped to look in through the window of a shop.  
"'New Tribe Piercing and Tattooing'."  he read, "Let's try this one.  I like the name."     


Music was playing and a couple of leggy young women were sitting on a couch, leafing through a notebook of tattoo designs.  They looked up as Nick and Vachon walked in.  Both girls were wearing short, black skirts and lots of make-up.  The big blonde had an incongruous splash of freckles across her otherwise pale face.  She gave Vachon a dazzling smile and a quick peek at her tongue stud.  The other girl was slender and artfully delicate-looking.  She had liberally applied gold body glitter to her dark, silky skin.  Her red lace bustier showed off the roses tattooed across her back.  She smiled up at Nick, while she rubbed the blonde girl's thigh in a manner that was both protective and inviting.  Then, pretending to lose interest, the women went back to looking through the notebook.   


A young man in a vintage bowling shirt came out from the back room and nodded to them.  He wore heavy gold earrings, and had tied his shoulder-length dreddlocks back into a ponytail. 
"Hey."  he said, pleasantly, "What can I do for you?"   

Nick pointed to Vachon, who wasn't quite finished checking out the girls.   
"My friend wants some body jewelry."   

Vachon looked up from the charming vista the ladies offered, into a pair of the most beautiful tawny eyes he'd ever seen.   
"Um, yeah.  Body jewelry."  he mumbled, grinning like an idiot.   

"He'd like to have his tongue pierced."  Nick explained. 

"Okay."  the tawny-eyed man said.  "Have you had any piercings before?"   

Vachon shook his head.  "Not exactly."
    
"Well, come on back here."  The young man motioned toward the piercing room.  "I can take you right now, if you're ready.  You want your friend to come with you?"   

Vachon beckoned to Nick and they went into the back room.   


The man went over to a sink, washed his hands, then pulled on a pair of latex gloves.   
"My name's Aaron and I'll be doing your piercing tonight."  he said. 

Vachon laughed and said, "This is Nick, and I'm Javier." 

"I'm sorry."  Aaron said, "Did you say, 'Harvey'?" 

"Javier.  But everyone calls me Vachon."   


Aaron explained what he would be doing and showed Vachon the piercing needle he would use.  Even though Aaron was doing his best to make him comfortable, Vachon was still fidgety.  But his restlessness didn't come from trepidation.  He was anxious to try out this new plaything and couldn't wait to get Nick alone.  


Vachon had selected a tiny, steel barbell and decided to have it put in near the tip of his tongue.  He kept his eyes glued on Nick, as his tongue was clamped, then marked.  This was a novel experience for Vachon; he was about to be penetrated by a mortal, and a very pretty one at that.  He made a small sound and shut his eyes.   


Aaron stopped.  "Did that hurt?"  He laid a hand on Vachon's shoulder.  Vachon opened his eyes and inarticulately assured Aaron that he was fine.  He shut his eyes again, he could feel them changing, burning golden.  This was the sexiest thing he'd done in weeks.  He kept his eyes shut tight until he felt them clear.  It just wouldn't do, for Aaron to see him all vampy. 


Aaron was very gentle.  He took the needle and pushed it through Vachon's tongue in one motion.   The little barbell followed and it was over.   

"That's it?  Wow, it didn't even hurt."  Vachon tentatively touched the little stud to the roof of his mouth.   
"Thanks, Aaron.  That was a rush."  He gave Nick a peek at his tongue.   

Aaron explained the aftercare procedures to Vachon.   
"Your tongue will probably be sore for a couple of days."  he said, "You shouldn't eat any hard, solid food during that time." 

"Don't worry."  Vachon smiled.  "I never touch the stuff." 


*   *   *   *   *   *   *   *  


Nick and Vachon went back out into the crowd gathering on the street.  Only a quarter of an hour or so had passed since they'd gone into New Tribe, but it felt as if there were twice as many people on the sidewalk, or cruising slowly in their cars.  To Nick, it seemed like a carnival.  It had been a long time since he had done anything besides work, or go to the Raven, or sit around at home, feeling sorry for himself.  He wanted to stay out for a while.   

Vachon suggested a little club hopping, so they walked up the block and starting at the Tonic, worked their way back to the Fluid lounge by way of nearly every club on Queen West.  They had a couple of glasses of wine and flirted with pretty girls.  Nick delighted in their warm kisses, without any of his usual self-loathing.  He was able to restrain his hunger and simply enjoy the physical contact. 


By the time they made it back to their starting point, they'd accumulated several phone numbers.   

"Are you really going to call any of those women?"  Vachon asked, as they went into the alleyway.   

Nick gave him a sideways glance and shook his head.  "I don't think I should.  What about you?" 

Vachon considered the idea briefly.  "Nah, I'd better not.  But, wasn't that great, Nick?  All those warm, beautiful girls."   


They smiled at each other, then Nick ran a short way and Vachon chased after him as he leapt up onto the roof.  They made a game of it; rushing at each other as they sped across the dark sky.      


They stopped on a rooftop a few blocks from the CN tower.  The night was warm, and silver-plated with brilliant moonlight.  Vachon stood looking up at the moon, loosing himself in it for a moment.   

"Well, Nick.  What shall we do now?"  He clicked the little silver stud in his tongue against his teeth.  "Want to go back to your place and try out my new toy?"   

Nick laughed and ruffled Vachon's hair.  "Let's save that for later.  Harvey."

Vachon curled his hand into a fist, "Don't call me Harvey, or I'll-" 

"You'll what?"   

"I don't know,"  Vachon threatened, "But, I'll think of something."       


A peculiar tang in the air grabbed Nick's attention away from Vachon's teasing.  He was suddenly alert, as if he'd scented nearby prey. 

"What?"  Vachon caught his excitement. 

"A surprise.  Come here."   

Vachon complied, but wanted to know what kind of a surprise it was. 

"Well, it's a surprise." Nick told him, "Do you want it, or not?"   

"Course I do."   

"Okay.  Then shut your eyes and hold onto me."  said Nick, slipping his hands inside Vachon's leather jacket.  


Vachon wrapped his arms around Nick's shoulders and shut his eyes.  He felt a quick surge as Nick leapt from the roof, then felt their speed increase as they plummeted downward; he felt the wind whipping his hair and realized this was not a controlled descent.  His eyes snapped open.   
"We're falling!  Nick!  What are you doing?"   

Nick just grinned wickedly and held Vachon tight, so he couldn't get away.   


There was a stinging smack of cold water and they surfaced in the pool of a posh hotel.   
Vachon came up sputtering.  "You're crazy!  You maniac!  What did you do that for?" 

"Just felt like it."  Nick swam easily alongside Vachon, who floundered in the water, hindered by his heavy boots and motorcycle jacket.  
"Vachon, I wish you could have seen the look on your face!"  Nick laughed at the recollection.   

"Oh, you liked that, didja?  How's this for a look?"  Vachon growled, splashing at him.   

"Isn't this great?"  Nick sighed. 

"Oh, yeah.  Fabulous."  Vachon said, flatly.  "I can't remember the last time I went swimming with my boots on." 

"Hush your fussin'."  Nick pushed him under the water and held him down.   


Vachon wriggled out of his grasp and dove to the bottom of the pool.  He turned and shot towards the surface.  Emerging directly under Nick, he tried to throw him out of the water.  They splashed and tussled, dragging each other by turns to the bottom of the pool.  When they came up for air, Nick pointed up at the sky.   

"Look."  he whispered reverently, "The Aurora."


An ethereal, blue-green ribbon of light shimmered above them.  The moon was almost too bright for the delicate colors to be seen by mortal eyes.  The brilliance of the northern lights dazzled the vampires' acute senses, and the moon and cold-burning stars nearly overwhelmed them.  They floated on their backs in the cool water, and their hands met and clasped.   


As the Aurora slowly faded, they resumed their swim.  They were quiet, awed by what they'd seen.  Suddenly, Vachon stopped swimming and motioned for Nick to do the same.   

"Someone's coming."  he whispered.  "Vamanos." 

"Wait."  Nick whispered back, "Let's see what happens."   


Without warning, a bright circle of light burst in their faces.  The hotel officer was astounded to see two fully clothed men in the pool, calmly treading water.   
"I'm sorry, gentlemen."  he intoned, "The pool is closed for the evening."  What ever he may have been thinking, it wasn't registering on his face.  The hotel prided itself on the diplomatic skill of it's staff.   


The plain-clothes security officer assisted them out of the pool, then inquired, "Shall I send housekeeping up to your rooms with some extra towels?  I could have the valet come for your wet clothes immediately." 

"No, thank you."  Nick replied.  "We aren't actually staying here." 

"Yeah, we just dropped in for a swim."  Vachon added.  "See ya." 


They left the hotel via the main lobby, leaving a wet trail on the carpet.  Vachon stopped in front of a large, ornate mirror and began to preen.   
"Just look at my hair."  he whined.   


Nick gave him a shove to get him moving again.  They were quiet until they were out on the sidewalk, then their restraint dissolved and they clung to each other, choking with laughter.  The few passersby gave them a wide berth.    

"Just dropped in for a swim."  Nick rolled his eyes at Vachon, then touched his long wet hair. "Let's get into some dry clothes."   

"Or out of some wet ones." Vachon suggested.   


They headed back to the warehouse.  It was just past midnight. 
As they came to Nick's loft, Vachon sensed someone waiting inside.  They dropped down lightly onto the roof and walked toward the skylight.  Nick didn't need to see who was waiting for them; he'd felt his master's touch in his mind long before they'd neared the building.  He put his arm around Vachon's shoulders as they went in.   


LaCroix was in the armchair nearest the fireplace.  He looked up from his book and regarded them impassively.  Nick stood very still, his lips parted in a shy smile, his dark blue eyes soft and shining.   
"Hello, Nicholas."  LaCroix said his beloved's name as if it was a caress.   


Vachon plunked down in front of the fireplace, pulling off his wet boots and setting them on the hearth.  Nick brought him a chair and he got up just long enough to hang his soggy jacket over the back of it.   
"Hey, LaCroix."  he said cordially, glad he no longer found Nick's master quite so intimidating. 

LaCroix returned Vachon's greeting with a nod, pleased he no longer found his prot�g�'s newest playmate quite so obnoxious.  
"Javier, what is that ... thing you have in your mouth?"   

Vachon snaked out his tongue for inspection, then gave him a very naughty look. 

"I suppose you have one as well?"  LaCroix turned to Nick.  Nick couldn't tell if his mentor was relieved, or disappointed when he opened his mouth and showed his unadorned tongue. 

"Nick didn't know what it was for."  Vachon laughed, "I had to explain it to him."

LaCroix smiled fondly at Nick.  "Such an innocent." 

Nick scowled at both of them.  "Would anyone like a drink?" 

LaCroix held up his glass.  "I helped myself.  I hoped you wouldn't mind."  

"Not at all."  said Nick, "Vachon?" 

"Yes, please."  He got up to help Nick with the drinks, then went to poke around in the CDs.  He played deejay and flirted with LaCroix, just a little.  LaCroix pretended to take no notice, and advised Nick and Vachon to change into dry clothes.  
"But don't be too long about it."  he said.
 

Vachon received an impression that LaCroix was suggesting they do just the opposite.  The young vampire felt increasingly attracted to LaCroix.  He knew it was considered impolite to put the moves on an elder; one should wait for an invitation.  
Screw that, he thought.  But still, he didn't dare say anything to either Nick or LaCroix; unsure of how his infatuation would be taken.  As he was heading upstairs to change, he felt compelled to look back at LaCroix.  He watched the ancient one dip a finger into his glass of blood wine.   LaCroix met Vachon's eyes and put his finger into his mouth, then drew it out very slowly.  Vachon had seen a hundred other vampires make the same gesture a hundred times before, but this went straight into him and his knees turned to water.


Nick shucked off his wet clothes and tossed them into a wicker laundry basket, then handed Vachon a large towel.  Rubbing his hair vigorously, Vachon asked, "Have you got anything I can put on? That will fit me, I mean."

"Try this." Nick tossed him the black and maroon kimono.  The silky robe swallowed his slender body; it fell off his shoulders, trailing on the floor.  On Nick, the hem just brushed the top of his feet.  Vachon tightened the sash, and asked if he might use a brush.  Nick gave him a heavy, silver handled hairbrush. 
Vachon brought it close to his face.  "Lavender?"

"Yeah."  Nick said, "Old habit."

Vachon nodded, "My mom used to put rosemary in my hair.  To keep the bugs away."  
He started to pull the brush through his wet hair.  

Nick suggested he brush his hair in front of the fire. 
"It'll dry faster." 


* * * * * * * *


LaCroix had set up the chessboard during their absence, and invited Nick to a game.  Although their style of play differed, Nick and LaCroix were well matched.  The elder's strength was in strategy and defense, the other's was an uncharacteristic aggressiveness.  Vachon sat on the rug, watching them play as he brushed his hair.  Then he picked up the book LaCroix had been leafing through when they came in.  He perched on the back of the sofa, tucking his bare feet under Nick and read aloud:


'Now came still Evening on, and Twilight gray
Had in her sober livery all things clad;
Silence accompanied; for beast and bird-
They to their grassy couch, these to their nests,
Were slunk, all but the wakeful nightingale;
She all night long her amorous descant sang;
Silence was pleased: now glowed the firmament
With living sapphires: Hesperus, that led
The starry host, rode brightest, till the Moon,
Rising in clouded majesty, at length
Apparent queen, unveiled her peerless light,
And o'er the dark her sliver mantle threw.'


Vachon lowered the book and looked at the cover.  The book was Milton's 'Paradise Lost'. 
He'd never bothered to read it, assuming the language would be overblown or flowery. 

"Now glowed the firmament with living sapphires."  he murmured.  "That's beautiful." 
He went back to the book, soon he was completely absorbed. 


As the evening went on they took turns reading aloud from Milton.  LaCroix could taste the tension building in Vachon and gently probed his mind.  The young vampire perceived his subtle attentions and reprimanded him. 
"That's not fair, you know.  I'm not doing that to you." 

"Because you can't."  LaCroix pointed out.  "Not to me, anyway.  I'm sure you can read Urs like a book."  He was referring to Ursula, a vampire he liked to call 'an innocent goddess'.  All yellow curls and big blue eyes; Vachon had brought her across, a mere hundred years ago.
 
"No, I can't get inside her head at all."  Vachon said, "She's still as much a stranger to me, as she was the night I brought her across."

"Why did you bring her across, if you were strangers?"  asked Nick.
 
Vachon sighed and shook his head.  "A misunderstanding.  I thought she wanted me to." 
He bit his lip, "She was asking me to kill her."

"Urs is drawn to you,"  said LaCroix, "willing or no, because you are her maker." 

Vachon thought for a moment.  "We're just good friends.  She thinks of me as some kind of a big brother, I guess." 

"Things don't always turn out the way we plan."  LaCroix said, "Even when we choose our companions with the utmost care.  Children can often be willful and unruly.  Wouldn't you agree, Nicholas?"
  
Nick didn't answer.  He felt a stab of remorse, but clamped down on it before it could take hold. 


LaCroix stared into the fireplace, not really seeing the flames, remembering another child.  Divia, his mortal daughter, his vampire mother.  He'd been reborn into darkness through her when she was just a girl, barely touched by the first bloom of womanhood; twelve, maybe thirteen years old.  To his everlasting grief, he'd destroyed her, repulsed by the perversion which had consumed her. 


There was such sadness in his voice as he continued, "Perhaps it's the nature of our kind to despise the ones who make us."  He stood and said quietly, "Do you know, Nicholas has tried to kill me?"
   
Vachon stared at Nick, eyes wide with alarm. 
"You're kidding me, right?  You haven't been getting along lately." he muttered, "Unbelievable."
  
"You mean to say he hasn't told you?"  LaCroix said in mock surprise.
"Perhaps it slipped his mind."

 
He kept his eyes on Vachon, but he was acutely aware of Nick's reaction.  He took a measure of pride in his prot�g�'s outward nonchalance, perfectly concealing the sudden dread that his master's words woke in him. 
"Nicholas staked and burned me."  the elder said casually, as if he was recounting nothing more than a childish prank.  "That's not something one recovers from easily, believe me."  
He flicked a glance toward the elevator. 	


Vachon caught the slight movement and noticed, as if for the first time the scorched marks on the heavy door.  He'd often wondered why Nick hadn't cleaned them off, or painted over them.  It made him faintly nauseous to think of Nick plunging a stake into LaCroix, then setting fire to him.  


LaCroix laid a hand on Nick's shoulder, pleased that he didn't flinch, but looked up and met his gaze steadily.  You are so brave, my child, he thought, but payment is long overdue.  Looking deep into Nick's eyes, he sighed, "It was some time ago. Maybe it's best forgotten, for the moment."  
He leaned over Vachon and said seductively, "Watch out, Javier. Nicholas has quite a nasty side.  But that's one of the things I find so fascinating about him."


No one spoke for a few minutes.  Vachon shifted nervously about on the sofa.  Nick got up to fetch another round of drinks.  LaCroix gloated, admiring his own handiwork; he nearly rubbed his hands together with glee. 
"I fancy a smoke."  he said pleasantly, "Would either of you care to join me?" 
He looked pointedly at Nick's lover.


Vachon went to the roof with LaCroix and accepted a slim cigar.  LaCroix lit it for him, holding his hand until the flame caught.  They smoked in silence for a while, then Vachon thanked LaCroix for the cigar. 
"Pretty good."
 
"They ought to be."  said LaCroix, "I have them custom made."

"I guess they don't exactly give these away."  Vachon smiled, attending to the rich flavor of the tobacco.

"The best reason for one to amass a fortune is the pleasures it affords one."

"Haven't you ever heard?  The best things in life are free." 

"Ah, the rallying cry of the indigent."

"I have money."  Vachon said, drawing himself up.  "I just don't throw it around, the way some people do."

"Is that why you live in a derelict building?"  LaCroix asked, with a mocking lilt. 
"To save money?"

"I like living at the church.  It's offensive, on so many levels."


LaCroix threw his head back and laughed with genuine amusement.  Vachon was absurdly pleased to have made LaCroix laugh.  He wanted to make another witty remark, but his brain had turned to mush.  The harder he tried think of something to say, the more tongue-tied he became.  The silence soon became unbearable to Vachon, but LaCroix seemed comfortable enough.  He stood close to the parapet, enjoying his cigar. Vachon cleared his throat nervously.

When LaCroix turned to look at him, the moonlight fell on his face, silvering his skin and he looked so beautiful, Vachon wanted to fall to his knees.  He suddenly remembered he was naked underneath his borrowed robe.  Disconcerted by the rush of lust thudding through him, he blurted out, "I wish you hadn't told me."

"Told you?"  LaCroix purred.

"About ... what Nick did."

"You can't bear to see any tarnish on your knight in shining armor?"

"I don't want to know what goes on between you two."  Vachon muttered. 
"It's none of my business."

"Surely you and Nicholas don't have any secrets from one another."  LaCroix said patronizingly.

"We're still in the don't-ask-don't-tell stage." Vachon said.  He regretted broaching the subject.  If only LaCroix would stop talking and kiss him.  Santa Regina, how he wanted this man.  Hold me, he thought, take me, right now.  He trembled slightly and LaCroix asked if he was cold.
  
"Oh, yeah."  he lied, "I'm freezing."
  
"Then you had better go inside."

* * * * * * * *


By the time Vachon had come back in, Nick had regained his composure.  He had lowered the blinds against the coming dawn, and was lounging on the sofa, leafing through a thick book. 

"What are you reading?" Vachon asked, ducking under Nick's arm to lie in his lap.  He peeked at the book long enough to read the word 'archaeology' and voiced his displeasure. 
"Put that away.  Dead people are boring."

"You can look at the pictures."  Nick said, turning the page.

"Shaddup."  Vachon growled, but began to grow interested, nonetheless.  He had Nick hold the book so they could both see it.


"What a charming picture of domestic tranquility."  LaCroix murmured, resuming his former seat by the fireside.  Vachon shushed him and the old vampire chuckled at the young one's insolence.  He and Nick exchanged a look that would have reduced Vachon to stammering confusion, had he seen it.   LaCroix would not be satisfied until he had an opportunity to plunder every inch of the young Spaniard's marvelous body.  Nick ran his fingers through Vachon's hair, smiling with approval.


Vachon found it difficult to concentrate on archaeology for very long.  The firm thigh beneath his cheek distracted him.  Nick's belly rose and fell with his soft breathing, his silk pajamas rustled against Vachon's ear.  He began to stroke Nick's leg, slowly rubbing his thumb back and forth, gently pressing his fingertips into his thigh. Nick continued to play with Vachon's hair, in a lazy, abstracted manner.

"Are you two just going to sit around all day and read?"  Vachon complained. 

LaCroix didn't bother to look up from his book.  "Yes. Did you have something else in mind?"


For the first time in his life, Vachon found himself lusting after someone who seemed immune to his considerable charms.  The seductive glances and flirtatious remarks, which had never failed to have anyone else eating out of his hand, were apparently wasted on LaCroix.  Vachon shrugged off his disappointment and turned his eyes on Nick. 
"It's past my bed time."  he said, with a slight emphasis on bed.
 
"Then run along, Javito.  Don't let us keep you up."  the elder advised.

"Come on."  Nick said, giving Vachon's rump an affectionate slap.  "I'll tuck you in." 
Vachon flashed a naughty grin at LaCroix, then followed Nick up the stairs.


As he made his way across the mezzanine toward Nick's bedroom, Vachon realized how exhausted he was.  He could hardly keep his eyes open.  It truly was past his bedtime; he needed more sleep than either of his companions.  Yawning, he got under the covers, and Nick lay down beside him, smoothing his soft, dark hair back from his face.
 
"I never thought I'd hear myself say this,"  Vachon said sleepily, "but I like your old man."

"I know."  said Nick, dropping a kiss on his forehead.

"No.  I mean, I *really* like him."  Vachon closed his eyes and mumbled something that sounded like "sugar cane." 
	

LaCroix had fully expected to have his peaceful morning disturbed by the boisterous racket of young vampires disporting themselves, but Nick's bedroom door might have been the door of a tomb; they were being so quiet.  Not even the rustling of the bedclothes broke the silence.  Closing his book, the elder received an impression of jumbled thoughts, slipping in and out of tranquil consciousness.  He went stealthily up the stairs.  The bedroom door had been left ajar, so LaCroix took that as an invitation to enter.


Nick and Vachon lay close together, with their fingers loosely twined.  LaCroix watched them sleep for several minutes, tempted to peer into their dreams.  He leaned over Vachon and held his fingers as if he would stroke his face and run his hand over his body, but didn't actually touch him.  LaCroix smiled when he saw Vachon respond, moving to lean into the phantom touch.  He passed his fingers over his soft throat, then the juncture of his neck and shoulder and whispered, "Soon, little one ... very soon." 


LaCroix sat on Nick's side of the bed, and slipped his shoes off before stretching out beside him. 
"Yes."  he said, closing his eyes, "Very soon."

<END>


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