This drabble became near short story hella long hence why it’s under a readmore, if it shows up as such.
Mael fiddled with the Taylor guitar. It had obviously seen younger days but still played beautifully in the immortal’s hands. Golden strands covered his face as he started to softly murmur words from a song long forgotten and worked to match the tune being plucked. Marius couldn’t help but attempt to listen. He found it was strange that the Gaul was barely making a sound.
“Are you attempting to play your instrument or serenade canines?” Mael’s attention suddenly snapped up and towards the Roman, not once speaking but obviously questioning the statement. “I mean no offense but you are rather quiet. I would think a musician desired to be heard.”
“Not all of us are the beloved ‘brat prince,’” Mael said rather quickly. Marius was a bit surprised at the response but gently nudged into his companion.
“Enough. I’m not requesting you get upon a stage, merely don’t have to hide in here.”
“I’m not hiding,” Mael muttered, adjusting one string before testing it again. Perfect.
“Well you certainly can’t be nervous with an audience of one.” A beat of silence. “…are you?” There was that familiar heated color covering Mael’s face. Some things never change.
“Of course not! What a ridiculous notion!” Mael idly pulled another string, letting the sound echo around the large living room before speaking again. “I taught you some of our hymns back in…in days past. How do you not recall?”
“Guess the song didn’t interest me as much,” Marius shrugged. There was a snort of irritation from the other though no following comment. Focus now back to the guitar, Mael strummed a few notes, humming low as he started another tune. Marius found nothing out of the ordinary at first until the sudden shift in strumming caught his attention. It was not the usual rhythm the Druid practiced, at least that Marius was aware of, and then Mael began a song that rolled out in a deep voice.
“A cold wind is blowing…Through the graves it is blowing…And it bares a poisoned tongue. And the foul breath of deceit…”
It was no secret or surprise to the Roman that his companion had heard more than his share of music or how easily he adapted the music onto an acoustic instrument. The immortals’ gift of immacry worked rather well in all forms. The Druid’s voice never once wavered when matching the pitch of the guitar. Grey eyes peered over Mael’s shoulder, noticed the attention from the other man, and, rather than shy from it, let the situation embolden him. Mael’s voice became stronger, sharper, for once granting Marius the ability to hear something other than ancient words he barely took interest in. It was…inviting.
The musician continued his playing, working his best to recall the lines of a song he’s heard once or twice in passing or possibly hummed under his lover’s breath while painting. It was unknown when the Gaul had taken the time to overhear and memorize this small detail but Mael didn’t skip or falter as his words became far more husky and heated, much like before when the sound would awaken his senses before a ritual. There was a different energy to this night, however, far past worship of gods and spirits.
The instrument became forgotten to rest upon the arm of the couch so as to allow its owner to move and keep steady eye contact with his audience. Marius watched him, curious and intrigued at this change of direction. Mael slowly inched closer, daring a hand to lay near the hip of his lover as the song flowed from within. How one can make such a primal growl melodic was a gift.
The other hand weaved fingers into white blonde strands before moving to settle against the hard, marble chest. Fingers spread out from the large palm and started to hook over a parting in the shirt. The song continued, now coaxing an entertained Marius to join in. There was a melody between them that neither would have expected. Mael’s grip on the dark fabric tightened as he could feel each word sung along with him. He leaned closer. Even now the song was strong as ever, despite their closeness, and both felt their eyes close.
“For hollow victories…” a pause before repeating the line again. “For hollow victories.”
Marius felt a sharp pain blossom from the back of his head. The ceiling was the first thing he caught sight of before looking to the collapsed and shaking form of Mael who was struggling to choke back laughter. Did he…he certainly hadn’t…did he just get shoved from the couch? Now? NOW? Vision and senses quickly coming together, he fixated at the man lazily grinning from his spot on the furniture, a chuckle or two still escaped him. Whether it was from shock that it happened or that he actually did it, Mael couldn’t pinpoint the reason but still found it hard to muzzle the soft laughter at the sharp glare from the other.
“What was THAT?” Marius snapped.
“Guess the song didn’t interest me as much.”
This little bug came in the back of my mind when I thought of the image and I had to have it. It also took the longest to write to a point where I would like it. One day that couch is going to look like I didn’t make it up in 10 seconds. You’ll see!
Massive shoutout to @monstersinthecosmos who had an open inbox and gave me wonderful song recs that helped write this piece. I only regret not putting more lyrics in.
This here is the amazing song referenced (THANKS AGAIN @monstersinthecosmos) and you should all listen to it as well as let all the songs run on Youtube like I did. Wasthisaploytogetmetolovethisbandbecauseitsgrowningfastonme
Ffft btw these boys are © Anne Rice.
