“I’m cold. Come closer.” - for Gabriel and John, if you can? :3
OKAY SO. As I mentioned, this grew into something completely unexpected, and I’m sorry if it’s not your jams. Feel free to shoot me another request if you totally hate it.
Also, it should be noted that this takes place in a fantasy medieval kingdom where things like allergies aren’t really known. All Gabriel knows is the ‘smell’ of horses makes him ‘sensitive’. Okay bye.
John & Gabriel. 2.4K words. Allergies.
Autumn in Etrania came all at once. One afternoon it was hot out, summer lingering and making the more nocturnally challenged inhabitants of the kingdom seek refuge inside the cool shade of their homes. The next day brought a cool breeze and the scent of rain. And every day after that was rain and wind and clouds that were dark and heavy with possibility.
John had decided to take advantage of the sudden arrival of dreariness to spend more time with his horse. Without the need of a hat to protect himself from the deadly sunlight, he understood better the phrase 'weather permitting' than he ever had. It was nice to be able to ride along Gabriel's countryside without worrying about silly things such as sun poisoning. With Gabriel busy all day, holding Court and overseeing some sort of improvement on the castle, John had been presented with both the time and the opportunity for a good, long ride, and he had taken it gladly.
When he returned to the castle finally, stormy twilight had settled over Etrania like an angry, purple blanket. Just as he was handing Satine's reins over to an eager stablehand, the skies opened as if the clouds had been pierced by a thousand tiny knives. Immediately, John had spluttered and lifted an arm to shield himself from the wet, cursing the dreariness that had made a hat unnecessary. You could never win, it would seem. He didn't quite run across the castle grounds, but it was a near thing, his boots slipping over wet grass in his haste to get inside sooner.
It was only as he climbed the stairs to the quarters he shared with Gabriel that he realized just how tired he was. Tired, and drained. Something he had learned since being turned; being tired was very different from feeling drained. He felt drained mostly when he was hungry, just before he started to slip into the bloodlust that made him feel as if his body was dying, one cell at a time, and he felt as if every ounce of energy had been bled from him.
How ironic.
When Lucas sprang forward to open the door for him, with an exaggerated bow and a greeting of, "Hello, Boss!" John barely had the energy to roll his eyes at him. Waving a hand over his shoulder, he shivered and dripped his way into the circular sitting room, reaching up to unfasten the brooch holding his now soggy cloak closed. He sighed, a tired sound, and hung his cloak up to drip near the door. A hand was pushed into his wet hair, and he realized that the very act of hanging up his cloak and pushing damp curls from his eyes had all but done him in. He was tired, he was hungry, and he was cold.
Thankfully, there was already a warm fire burning in the hearth and the unmistakable scent of bergamot tea. It was amazing what he could notice now, with his enhanced vampire senses. The scent of tea on the air. The rumblings of an incoming storm, still miles off. The sound of animals creeping in the forest behind the castle. And the cold. He noticed the cold so much more now, which he had initially found odd. Why would a vampire, one whose blood no longer ran hot, notice the cold? He did, though, finding winter as excruciating as summer, though for very different reasons. He had once, a bit drunkenly after too much brandy taken with Gabriel's father in the study, compared himself to a lizard who didn't know if it wanted to be perched atop a sunny rock, or hiding beneath it.
Gabriel had called himself the rock, and John had become aware, for the first time since being changed, that vampires could blush if they had fed recently enough.
The rock in question was, no doubt, the reason for the crackling fire and John's favourite tea, being kept warm in a kettle wrapped in wool. The king himself was standing near the window, behind a large easel. With a paintbrush in hand and his eyes fixed on the storm, he hadn't moved to greet John, or even lifted his eyes from his work. That meant he was very much caught up in it all, which also meant that John had to go to him. And it didn't matter, it turned out, what you were. Vampire or human, king or commoner. If your partner approached you with damp clothing and skin chilled from the wind and rain, you were likely to notice. No matter what you were doing.
"Christ!" The paintbrush left a streak of navy across the canvas when Gabriel jumped at a cold hand being worked up beneath his shirt. Muffling laughter between his mate's shoulderblades, John held on fast even as Gabriel tried to shake him off, squirming in a very un-royal fashion. "What are you doing, you're freezing! And wet, Johnny, get off!” Despite the harsh words, Gabriel's voice was warm with amusement, and his motions were half-hearted at best. Exaggerated, perhaps, to make John laugh. That was enough to make warmth bloom in John's chest, spreading through him slowly. Not enough to chase the chill from his bones entirely, but definitely enough to make him smile and hum a content note against Gabriel's shoulder.
"I'm cold," he murmured, a shiver running down his spine and making him tremble against the solid warmth of Gabe's back. He took his hand from Gabriel's chest, settling instead for wrapping his arms around his beloved's waist and shuffling closer to him. They were pressed together, from shoulder to hip to knee, and John would still move closer if he could. Gabriel, who was unfed and barely warmer than room temperature, felt as warm to him as if he'd been basking in front of the fire for hours. Rubbing his nose against the soft casual tunic that Gabriel had traded his Court finery for, John kissed his shoulder and tightened his arms around him in a plaintive squeeze. "Come closer."
Gabriel shuffled back a step, moving away from his easel so that he could turn in John's arms and hug him properly. With arms looped loosely around John's waist, he smiled up at him with the kind of tenderness that was reserved for him alone. "Closer? Johnny, I don't think two people can stand closer than we are now. Not that I'm complaining," he added quickly, apparently afraid that John would take offence to his desire to be closer. About to insist that there were several ways that they could, in fact, be closer, John was silenced by a kiss pressed to his forehead. And it was so simple a gesture, so sweet and warm, that it immediately silenced his slightly bawdy protest. Settling for huffing quietly, John dipped his head to accept the second kiss that he knew was coming, and the nuzzle to the tip of his cold nose. Gabriel, his honey-eyed king, could put out a fire just as quickly as he'd set it ablaze, and John was weak to his tiny affections. He pressed his forehead to his collarbone, humming again when the top of his head was kissed quietly.
"How was Court?" It didn't matter that his voice was, more or less, muffled into Gabriel's shirt. He knew that Gabe was used to his need to touch, and to feel, and to be as close as possible some days. And that this sometimes meant he had to decipher John's grumbled speech that was half-obscured by whatever part of his body was currently being spoken to. They had become rather adept at communicating that way. That, and when Gabe refused to lift his head from where it was crushed against his pillow in the mornings, and still thought that John could even halfway understand him.
"Well," Gabriel mused, his lips brushing the top of John's head when he spoke, his voice thoughtful. "It was long. And slow. And dragged on. And..." He cut himself off with soft laughter when John dug a knuckle into his ribs, squirming to get away from the ticklish touch without actually releasing John from the warm circle of his arms. He gave a soft sniffle and braced his chin atop John's curls instead, rubbing one hand over his back absently, a touch that made John sigh contentedly. "It was good. We got a sweet little piglet..." He drew back just enough to press a knuckle beneath his nose, giving it a quick and dismissive rub, and smiled up at John, his eyes sparkling. "He's cute."
"Cute?" Eyes narrowing in suspicion, John pulled back further still. "He is delicious. I'm going to eat him for breakfast!" Gabriel had always wanted a pet, but his father had not allowed it in his youth. And now, because of that, he often joked about keeping every animal that was brought to them as a token. And John would joke right back that he was going to eat said animal. When Gabriel didn't laugh again, the way he normally did, John lifted an eyebrow and poked his mate in the ribs again. "Now, you can't be all that attached to a piglet, Gabe. Really, despite my current company, I do have standards. I--"
"Hh'ITSH’iew!" The sneeze came on so suddenly that it stole away the witty remark that John's tongue was still wrapped around. He blinked in surprise, leaning back when Gabriel turned away hurriedly, curled fist already lifted to deflect another itchy sounding, "Hk'IShhhieew!" A quick sniffle and Gabriel turned back, though he did so hesitantly while performing the rather boyish act of wiping his hand dry against the side of his pants. Pulling a face, John squirmed away from Gabriel, patting his body lightly in search of a handkerchief concealed in some pocket or another. All his hands contacted, however, was the damp fabric of his riding clothing.
"God bless you. I've nothing, I'm afraid. Are you quite alright?" He lifted a hand to touch Gabriel, intending on stroking his thumb over the curve of his cheek. His wrist was caught just short of contact being made, and Gabriel pressed a quick kiss to his palm before gently pushing his hand down. He sniffled again, a quick series of short, wet bursts of sound. It was something that would typically cause irritation to spark in John, the repetitive sound of it getting under his skin. But the expression on Gabriel's face, crumpling slowly as the realization of another sneeze dawned upon him, had him too curiously concerned, and perhaps just a little amused. This must have shown in his expression, some twitch of his mouth, or a sparkle in his eyes, because Gabriel narrowed his eyes at him, damp and pink looking already.
"I'm fine. Wh..why do you look lihh--" He pushed the bulb of his nose into the palm of his hand and rubbed it in quick, rough circles. This was apparently enough for now, enough for him to relieve the itch long enough to finish his thought. "Look like that? Like this is funny?" This was such a childish gesture that most of his worry gave way to further amusement, and John hid a smile behind a hand lifted to his mouth. Gabriel glared, though it was short-lived due to the arrival of the sneeze he'd managed to stave off. He turned aside once more, this time tucking his face neatly into the bend of his elbow. John rubbed his back through the fit, his brows lifting when the count reached seven, and Gabriel's breath hitched once more, indicating he wasn't done yet. There was, however, a pause long enough for John to speak over his mate's shivering breath.
"God bless you. Are you quite done?" He blinked innocently when Gabriel glared at him once more, dark lashes spiked with tears, his eyes pink and sensitive looking. For to be certain, this was one of Gabriel's sensitivities. And John, who had tapped his clothing once again to search in vain for a handkerchief, was quite surprised that it had taken him this long to realise that the scent of Satine must be clinging to him still. And, judging from the expression that crossed Gabriel's face when he fitted John with a watery glare, he had reached the same conclusion.
"What are you wearing? What have you behhh... huhhEISH'oo!" Despite how many times Gabriel had sneezed already, they still sounded desperate, as if the itch in his nose was still simply too much to bear. Another sneeze, a damp sounding, "huhisshhhh!" that was mostly smothered in the sleeve of his shirt, and he finally lifted his head again, looking bleary and blinking rapidly. His voice was a stuffy rasp when he finally spat out, "What did you do today?"
"Well!" Huffing a little, John put further distance between them, moving to the chest of drawers where their handkerchiefs were kept in neat stacks. He pulled one of the more absorbent squares and brought it back to Gabriel, trying not to laugh when the pouting king snatched the cloth from his hand impatiently and held it to his nose with a thick sniffle. "Honestly, you can't expect me to just sit around and look pretty while you're holding court. Don't," he added, when it looked as if Gabriel may make some sort of smart remark. He half-turned from his mate, reaching for the cord belt at his waist. "Don't start. I had to amuse myself somehow, and your father has already trounced me at chess twice this week. You said you wanted me to get out more," he added when Gabriel made a stuffy, annoyed sound before blowing his nose. He continued to defend himself as he undressed, leaving his riding clothes in a growing heap on the floor. "And you gave me Satine to begin with. Remember? She was just a little thing, and..." The river of his defence trickled to almost nothing when he turned, stripped down to just his breeks, and saw the way that Gabriel was looking at him. "What?"
Gabriel sniffled once more, giving his nose one final swipe with the handkerchief before advancing on him, moving in that slowly deliberate way that always sent a chill up John's spine. His voice was thick with congestion when he spoke, but low and simmering with suggestive heat. "Are you still cold?"
Feeling suddenly breathless, John reached up to untie the leather thong that held it back. His curls fell over his shoulders, and he reached for Gabriel with one hand, shivering again. "Come closer."