Firedancer
The sight of the Master with Dancer in tow, quite literally, was a common one, almost a sort of ritual in itself, and thus gathered no second thoughts as the entire city broke into rowdy celebration of another year survived. And while people did their best to get out of Dia’s way as fast as possible, they had no such inclination when it came to the man doing his best to stumble along behind. It was with a decided lack of grace that Kaio attempted to dodge past people too intent on celebrating to care whether or not they made his life any easier. Just the Dancer. Just the Masters pet dancer. Kaio tried his best to glare a hole into Dia's back, pretty sure he was inventing new curses with every hip he managed to smack into, new ways to kill Dia with every elbow that hit his ribs.
To say there was drinking in excess would be an understatement. The streets were littered with garishly clad and masked men and women in varying states of inebriation, some of which had been casually, clumsily rolled to the side so as to avoid being trampled by the revelers still standing. Those foolish enough to have coin on them would wake to find their pockets and pouches lighter, adding to the painful frustration of a spectacular hangover.
But then again, that too was almost as much a part of the Festival as the ritual itself.
A myriad of tantalizingly spicy odors wafted through the air as vendors with every manner of ware imaginable set up shop, mingling with and overpowering incense and blood, finally fully replacing the solemnity of ritual with hedonistic joy. It was a contagious atmosphere, and Dia breathed a minuscule sigh of relief, slowing his reckless plunge through the crowds.
It was a time of indulgence, of enthusiastic inhibition, and no one was allowed to escape the almost defiant zeal with which the usual rules were abandoned. Not even the Master. It pulsed through his veins, rolled through the languid nonchalance with which he usually disregarded the world around him.
Kaio felt the shift in Dia’s mood as the grip on his hair loosened, and deemed it a perfect time to reclaim his long mane, as well as his dignity. “Storms, Dia, can’t you just ask me to come with you like a sane person?!”
It was one of those times Kaio was pretty sure he had managed to overstep tenuous bounds, as Dia rounded on him, eyes blazing.
Kaio allowed himself to be slammed into a wall. That in itself was nothing new, unfortunately. He was almost used to the feel of each little stone of the wall behind him pressing a pattern into his back. He was used to the feel of Dia wrenching hard on his hair. There were some days he wished he could just cut the damn stuff, make Dia have to find more creative ways of tossing him around.
It was then things moved from unfortunate commonality to utterly alien. Kaio had a heartbeat or three to realize he was being kissed by the Master, and then it was over. Dia turned and started walking again, face as blank as it ever was in the company of others. Leaving a rather confused Kaio to pull himself away from the wall, wince at the fact it felt as if his back would be a fantastic sort of bruised when he had Arri look at it later, and try to figure out what the hell had just happened. This was not something he knew how to handle, not something he had a standard reaction to. Hell, Dia usually went out of his way to avoid touching people in any way that wasn’t aggressive. Though, the kiss could be seen as an aggressive assault, albeit one not in Dia’s usual repertoire.
Aggressive, yes. There had been definite aggression in the lips pushing against, bruising his own, in the hand yanking at his hair, holding him still…
And Dia had the gall to stalk off; offended as a cat caught actually enjoying itself...Dia had the gall to act like the injured party.
Like hell.
“Master! Hey! Hold up!” It probably wasn’t his wisest move, demanding the Master wait for him in public. But, hell, he was already pretty much damned. Dia’s interest in him had sealed that particular fate for him long ago.
Green eyes glittered in amusement as they observed Kaio’s indignant stumbling after Dia. “What a well trained puppy our Phoenix has raised.” From behind an elegant mask shaped to resemble a colorful cat, an affectionate smile formed.
Suddenly a delicate nose wrinkled and the mask produced a quiet little sneeze. “Ah. Such a vulgar smell hiding behind all that incense. I can’t say it does anything for the atmosphere.”
Someone bounced into the cat-masked form, stumbled away with an overly loud laugh, and inquired in a voice that was only a little slurred, “What’s your name?”
“Cait.” Green eyes were hooded as Cait allowed the intoxicated man paw at her hair.
“So pretty…”
“Thank you.” She purred, pulling the man close. “Would you know of a place for a traveler to stay?”
Drunken brown eyes glittered with an almost amusing mix of lust and glee. “I have a bed.”
“That’s encouraging.”
“You can share it with me.”
“What a wonderful idea.”
There were some days Kaio wanted nothing more than to remind his brother they lived in a temple. Not that it would any good. Every lecture he had subjected Arri to had ended in the same charismatic grin- most likely the one he used to lure so many young women into his lair- and a reminder that the gods hadn’t struck him down yet, so he must have been doing something right.
So his brother was incorrigible, was irrepressible; that was all well and good. some things just were, or so the clerics were wont to explain, casting their gazes to the heavens in a clever dodge of direct eye contact with whoever they were addressing.
This didn’t explain why the hell Arri had seen fit to make use of Kaio’s room for his festivities.
His bed.
There were some things brothers were just not meant to share.
Arri blinked awake as Kaio slammed the door shut, and grinned sheepishly around the woman sleeping with her head on his chest. “Morning, brother mine.”
“Out.”
“Shhh! Kya’s sleeping!”
“Sleep elsewhere.” Kaio hauled off the sash he had draped over one shoulder, unwound it from around his waist, and tossed it off to the left. “What happened to Cyra?”
“Kya’s her sister.”
“You’re disgusting. Hurry up and get the hell out of my room.”
“She thinks you’re cute.” Arri stretched, easing his way out from under the sleeping girl.
“You are not leaving her.”
“You don’t know what you’re missing!”
“Arri, I have had a long, infuriating night. Take your woman out of my bed so I can get some damn sleep.”
“Someone keep you up all night?” Arri paused in shaking Kya gently away, to leer in his brother’s general direction.
Kaio wished he didn’t have such fair skin, wished he couldn’t feel himself blushing to match the scarlet of his hair.
Arri chuckled as he led a sleepy and naked Kya out of the room, tossing a knowing wink his brother’s way as he pulled the door shut behind him.
“It’s not as if anything happened…” Kaio muttered at the closed door.
He had not wanted to spend the evening trailing after the Master like some besotted whore, all infuriated blushing and defiant shouting. But when the Master said follow, one followed. The alternative was…less than pleasant. Kaio was familiar enough with Dia’s moods to know now was one of those times to do whatever the Master said. He didn’t want to spark off that violent temper if he could avoid it, as he didn’t think he would get off with just a few hits and a snarled insult.
Tonight…the Master was out for blood.
The Festival was his, after all, even if most of the revelers had conveniently forgotten the fact as soon as the wine started to flow. Blood was on the air, burned in Dia’s eyes as he stalked through crowds that parted instinctively to allow his passing. And as Kaio trailed behind, he didn’t know if he was there to protect the Master or anyone who managed to get in his way.
There was just something so sensuously dangerous in the way Dia’s body swayed as he walked, something aggressively suggestive lurking in his eyes as they raked the crowd, searching and daring. There were drums in the back of Kaio’s head, the same drums that guided him through his dancing. It was to be a dance then this evening, a dance with something just as viciously seductive as the flames.
Dancing with Dia as opposed to dancing for him.
The drums beat a frantic pace as a man stumbled into Dia’s side, drawing the Masters attention. It was all Dia needed, a target for his fey mood. As the Master moved to close in, to let loose some of the violence seething in his frightening eyes, Kaio swayed his way into Dia’s line of sight. Dia’s attention shifted to his Dancer, watching, almost enthralled, as Kaio writhed and swayed, following the demands of the rhythm pounding through his body.
A hand held out, beckoning…and the Master was powerless to ignore him. the crowd faded back as Kaio danced around the Master, sometimes so close his body brushed against the Master; teasing a bit, promising more. Other times he was tauntingly out of reach, encouraging the Master to advance, drawing him away from the crowds, skillfully maneuvering him to the gardens where it was as dark and desolate as any part of the city could manage to be on Festival night.
It was a delicious blasphemy, being hauled towards the Master for something as inappropriate as another incensed kiss, to feel nails biting into the flesh of his bare back as Dia held him still.
At some point the drums faded, and were replaced by the awkward and unsteady pounding of his heart, and Kaio gasped a breath as Dia released him, awareness snapping back with the same shocking abruptness as if he had been doused with icy water. Dia regarded Kaio from hooded eyes as he stepped back, reasserting the difference in their station.
Then the Master had blinked once, turned, and left Kaio standing alone in the darkness of the garden, aware of the fact a thorn bush was pressed against his left thigh, and a pebble was situated in the heel of his left sandal.
Kaio ran a hand across the back of his right shoulder, wincing slightly as he brushed the marks Dia’s nails had left there. It had happened then. He hadn’t dreamed it, hadn’t just inhaled a bit too much ritual incense.
“Storms.” Kaio hissed.
And then decided to sleep it off. Maybe things would sort themselves out while he was unconscious and he would never have to think of it again.
At least until the next time Dia demanded his presence for tea.
To say there was drinking in excess would be an understatement. The streets were littered with garishly clad and masked men and women in varying states of inebriation, some of which had been casually, clumsily rolled to the side so as to avoid being trampled by the revelers still standing. Those foolish enough to have coin on them would wake to find their pockets and pouches lighter, adding to the painful frustration of a spectacular hangover.
But then again, that too was almost as much a part of the Festival as the ritual itself.
A myriad of tantalizingly spicy odors wafted through the air as vendors with every manner of ware imaginable set up shop, mingling with and overpowering incense and blood, finally fully replacing the solemnity of ritual with hedonistic joy. It was a contagious atmosphere, and Dia breathed a minuscule sigh of relief, slowing his reckless plunge through the crowds.
It was a time of indulgence, of enthusiastic inhibition, and no one was allowed to escape the almost defiant zeal with which the usual rules were abandoned. Not even the Master. It pulsed through his veins, rolled through the languid nonchalance with which he usually disregarded the world around him.
Kaio felt the shift in Dia’s mood as the grip on his hair loosened, and deemed it a perfect time to reclaim his long mane, as well as his dignity. “Storms, Dia, can’t you just ask me to come with you like a sane person?!”
It was one of those times Kaio was pretty sure he had managed to overstep tenuous bounds, as Dia rounded on him, eyes blazing.
Kaio allowed himself to be slammed into a wall. That in itself was nothing new, unfortunately. He was almost used to the feel of each little stone of the wall behind him pressing a pattern into his back. He was used to the feel of Dia wrenching hard on his hair. There were some days he wished he could just cut the damn stuff, make Dia have to find more creative ways of tossing him around.
It was then things moved from unfortunate commonality to utterly alien. Kaio had a heartbeat or three to realize he was being kissed by the Master, and then it was over. Dia turned and started walking again, face as blank as it ever was in the company of others. Leaving a rather confused Kaio to pull himself away from the wall, wince at the fact it felt as if his back would be a fantastic sort of bruised when he had Arri look at it later, and try to figure out what the hell had just happened. This was not something he knew how to handle, not something he had a standard reaction to. Hell, Dia usually went out of his way to avoid touching people in any way that wasn’t aggressive. Though, the kiss could be seen as an aggressive assault, albeit one not in Dia’s usual repertoire.
Aggressive, yes. There had been definite aggression in the lips pushing against, bruising his own, in the hand yanking at his hair, holding him still…
And Dia had the gall to stalk off; offended as a cat caught actually enjoying itself...Dia had the gall to act like the injured party.
Like hell.
“Master! Hey! Hold up!” It probably wasn’t his wisest move, demanding the Master wait for him in public. But, hell, he was already pretty much damned. Dia’s interest in him had sealed that particular fate for him long ago.
Green eyes glittered in amusement as they observed Kaio’s indignant stumbling after Dia. “What a well trained puppy our Phoenix has raised.” From behind an elegant mask shaped to resemble a colorful cat, an affectionate smile formed.
Suddenly a delicate nose wrinkled and the mask produced a quiet little sneeze. “Ah. Such a vulgar smell hiding behind all that incense. I can’t say it does anything for the atmosphere.”
Someone bounced into the cat-masked form, stumbled away with an overly loud laugh, and inquired in a voice that was only a little slurred, “What’s your name?”
“Cait.” Green eyes were hooded as Cait allowed the intoxicated man paw at her hair.
“So pretty…”
“Thank you.” She purred, pulling the man close. “Would you know of a place for a traveler to stay?”
Drunken brown eyes glittered with an almost amusing mix of lust and glee. “I have a bed.”
“That’s encouraging.”
“You can share it with me.”
“What a wonderful idea.”
There were some days Kaio wanted nothing more than to remind his brother they lived in a temple. Not that it would any good. Every lecture he had subjected Arri to had ended in the same charismatic grin- most likely the one he used to lure so many young women into his lair- and a reminder that the gods hadn’t struck him down yet, so he must have been doing something right.
So his brother was incorrigible, was irrepressible; that was all well and good. some things just were, or so the clerics were wont to explain, casting their gazes to the heavens in a clever dodge of direct eye contact with whoever they were addressing.
This didn’t explain why the hell Arri had seen fit to make use of Kaio’s room for his festivities.
His bed.
There were some things brothers were just not meant to share.
Arri blinked awake as Kaio slammed the door shut, and grinned sheepishly around the woman sleeping with her head on his chest. “Morning, brother mine.”
“Out.”
“Shhh! Kya’s sleeping!”
“Sleep elsewhere.” Kaio hauled off the sash he had draped over one shoulder, unwound it from around his waist, and tossed it off to the left. “What happened to Cyra?”
“Kya’s her sister.”
“You’re disgusting. Hurry up and get the hell out of my room.”
“She thinks you’re cute.” Arri stretched, easing his way out from under the sleeping girl.
“You are not leaving her.”
“You don’t know what you’re missing!”
“Arri, I have had a long, infuriating night. Take your woman out of my bed so I can get some damn sleep.”
“Someone keep you up all night?” Arri paused in shaking Kya gently away, to leer in his brother’s general direction.
Kaio wished he didn’t have such fair skin, wished he couldn’t feel himself blushing to match the scarlet of his hair.
Arri chuckled as he led a sleepy and naked Kya out of the room, tossing a knowing wink his brother’s way as he pulled the door shut behind him.
“It’s not as if anything happened…” Kaio muttered at the closed door.
He had not wanted to spend the evening trailing after the Master like some besotted whore, all infuriated blushing and defiant shouting. But when the Master said follow, one followed. The alternative was…less than pleasant. Kaio was familiar enough with Dia’s moods to know now was one of those times to do whatever the Master said. He didn’t want to spark off that violent temper if he could avoid it, as he didn’t think he would get off with just a few hits and a snarled insult.
Tonight…the Master was out for blood.
The Festival was his, after all, even if most of the revelers had conveniently forgotten the fact as soon as the wine started to flow. Blood was on the air, burned in Dia’s eyes as he stalked through crowds that parted instinctively to allow his passing. And as Kaio trailed behind, he didn’t know if he was there to protect the Master or anyone who managed to get in his way.
There was just something so sensuously dangerous in the way Dia’s body swayed as he walked, something aggressively suggestive lurking in his eyes as they raked the crowd, searching and daring. There were drums in the back of Kaio’s head, the same drums that guided him through his dancing. It was to be a dance then this evening, a dance with something just as viciously seductive as the flames.
Dancing with Dia as opposed to dancing for him.
The drums beat a frantic pace as a man stumbled into Dia’s side, drawing the Masters attention. It was all Dia needed, a target for his fey mood. As the Master moved to close in, to let loose some of the violence seething in his frightening eyes, Kaio swayed his way into Dia’s line of sight. Dia’s attention shifted to his Dancer, watching, almost enthralled, as Kaio writhed and swayed, following the demands of the rhythm pounding through his body.
A hand held out, beckoning…and the Master was powerless to ignore him. the crowd faded back as Kaio danced around the Master, sometimes so close his body brushed against the Master; teasing a bit, promising more. Other times he was tauntingly out of reach, encouraging the Master to advance, drawing him away from the crowds, skillfully maneuvering him to the gardens where it was as dark and desolate as any part of the city could manage to be on Festival night.
It was a delicious blasphemy, being hauled towards the Master for something as inappropriate as another incensed kiss, to feel nails biting into the flesh of his bare back as Dia held him still.
At some point the drums faded, and were replaced by the awkward and unsteady pounding of his heart, and Kaio gasped a breath as Dia released him, awareness snapping back with the same shocking abruptness as if he had been doused with icy water. Dia regarded Kaio from hooded eyes as he stepped back, reasserting the difference in their station.
Then the Master had blinked once, turned, and left Kaio standing alone in the darkness of the garden, aware of the fact a thorn bush was pressed against his left thigh, and a pebble was situated in the heel of his left sandal.
Kaio ran a hand across the back of his right shoulder, wincing slightly as he brushed the marks Dia’s nails had left there. It had happened then. He hadn’t dreamed it, hadn’t just inhaled a bit too much ritual incense.
“Storms.” Kaio hissed.
And then decided to sleep it off. Maybe things would sort themselves out while he was unconscious and he would never have to think of it again.
At least until the next time Dia demanded his presence for tea.
