Un Confessionale Tranquilla | Matteo & Vincent
He has never had the time to have toast before ā something, which, although quick and easy to do, speaks of a bit more effort than heās ever bothered to expend towards himself. It is as though someone asked him, incredulous, if he ever exfoliated before or perhaps taken a yoga class. His life was not made up of those leisurely things, but he thinks, as he curls up a little bit into the warm sheets, that it isnāt a bad sort of life. Despite the worry in Vincentās eyes that troubles him more than a little, there is a warm that glows in his chest and heats the tops of his cheeks at the gentle touches to his wounded arm. Heās putting on a brave face, but the burns do still feel raw and painful, and it feels good to have them looked after. Matteoās not used to it, Ā but he thinks he can get used to it ā this care. Ā These gentle, subtle touches.
Thereās a look away at the question, brows furrowing, caught in an uncomfortable position. From speaking with Cain, he knows he knows Vincent (although not precisely to what extent), and he doesnāt want to get him in trouble. On the other hand, he doesnāt fully feel comfortable with lying to him. Evenhanded in most things, the young man settles for a compromise between the two ā not lying precisely but not wording it in a way that would make it sound worse than it was. In retrospect, heād think, after he spoke it, perhaps his straightforward delivery wasnāt the best choice, even though he does take the time to think it over ā
Thinks it over during those careful ministrations, cool gel against stinging flesh, drawing a small breath in in discomfort at the slight pressure.
Thinks it over during the brief kiss and the way that he instinctively seems to lean into his touch, starved from affection for so very long, eyes soft and luminous.
Thinks it over as he accepts the open arms with open heart, folds himself in against him ā against warm skin, face pressed into him a little, breathing in the scent of clean fabric and him, curling himself gratefully into that warmth, and letting his arms go around him in return.
For a moment, he just remains there ā perfectly content ā basking in the warmth and the quiet moment between them, that heat and ache in his chest growing hotter and hotter. He doesnāt understand why he feels this way, or how it could hurt to be happy, but he is. He is very happy.
āIt isnāt Cainās fault,ā he murmurs softly against the fabric of his dressing gown. āWell, it was, but it was not really. They wanted him and got me to get to him because they saw us together once. They hurt me and sent a tape, and he came for me. Killed them all.ā
Thereās a thoughtful, quiet pause, a repression of terrifying memories. āHe can do good things, but he is not a good person, I think.ā
Ā āCain?ā He repeats, mirroring the name as if it had been burned onto his tongueāwith Lawrence it certainly felt so. Neither of them had any choice in the matter of partnership, doctors were chosen for the units without asking whether each side was comfortable it was a matter of who was applicable where. Lawrence had been his damnation. The man had very little consideration for anyone but himself, perhaps one or two were included into the tight circle of protection, but for the most part his words were biting, his fists worse. It is hard, after so many years of torment laid on thickly by Lawrence, to not withdraw a little.
Ā He continues to coat each burn with a medpack, the gel ought to soothe the blackened, raw parts of his skin but after that he lays beside him somewhat calmly, quietly. His expression has sobered entirely and any happiness seems to have extinguished, although he tries desperately to hide it. If he could go for a few weeks, preferably months, without Lawrence cropping up heād be grateful. āNo, Cain,ā the name still felt foul on his tongue, it was a lie just as much as his own was, āCain isnāt a good man.ā
Ā āIāitās not my place to talk, what you do with him is your own business. But be careful with him Matt.ā He hated himself for it, the bite of jealousy that stung so plainly and sharply in his chest, cocooned and wrapped into concern for him that he can ignore it well enough. āI know you can look after yourself but heās dangerous.ā Soldier trained to kill, chipped even if that had been ripped out by his own hands, that had of course been the only reason Vincent was free. Lawrence needed him to escape, otherwise heād still be out there. He didnāt think heād have been so willing to assist Vince based upon his own kindness.
Ā Arms wrapped around him tight itās easy to push it all from his mind, to focus devoutly on him but Vincent cannot push away that deliberate unease that has settled into his bones. āIām glad youāre safe now,ā that, at the end of the day was all that mattered. All he truly cared for. The marks would heal over eventually and perhaps, he could soothe the memories of the ordeal for him but heās not sureādoes he even have that kind of capability. Had he even left that much of a mark on Matteo.
Ā āIāll do my best to keep you that way.ā














