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faded_lacePart two, same warnings and everything :D;
As Donavan had predicted, Faustino far outshone his cousin in his new outfit, and even though Perceval seemed to constantly flit from one group of people to the next, twirling around to show off his new white silk jacket and lace vest to prove otherwise, Donavan was certain Faustino was a clear winner. The like Perceval’s efforts to show off, the party mattered little to Donavan; the new garden was pretty, he had to admit, and the decadent snapdragon flower arrangements were certainly a triumph on the part of the gardeners, but Donavan wasn’t really in the mood for chatting and social dancing. He and Faustino stood off to the side at the banquet table where Donavan was absently picking the strawberries out of the decorative fruit arrangement and popping them into his mouth unceremoniously. Perceval would disapprove, but his cousin was distracted, so Donavan continued, smirking deviously at his private rebellion.
“This is getting a little dull, don’t you think, Faustino?” Donavan asked after a moment. “I think I would have been perfectly content just to sit around with you this evening and admire that new outfit” Donavan licked his lips and lifted his brows, looking over Faustino once again and imagining how much more fun they could have already been having had they stayed at home.
Faustino laughed, shaking his head at Donavan. "It's pretty, though," he pointed out, admiring Perceval's white peacocks in their golden cages. "You don't ever give me birds, you know. I ought to be jealous." Teasingly poking Donavan in the shoulder, he leaned on the table a little. "Still. What do you want to do to entertain ourselves?"
“Do you want birds?” Donavan asked, playfully aghast as he rubbed his shoulder in mock pain. He shrugged at Faustino’s next question and scanned the area disinterestedly, narrowing his eyes. “We should lodge a formal complaint with our dear friend Perceval at some point… Maybe next time he can hire some entertainment.” Donavan laughed, imagining for a moment Perceval making use of some of the girls he owned for a party like this. “I don’t want to deal with him now, though.” Donavan took another strawberry and looked back down at Faustino. “Let’s take off for a bit, just us. Want to try out the maze?”
"All right!" Faustino replied brightly, taking Donavan's hand. "Let's go! I'll follow you, don't get us lost, okay?" He grinned, fairly sure that Donavan was going to get them lost on purpose, but, he supposed, it was worth it, for show, to try to keep him from doing so.
“You don’t really think I’d do something like that, do you?” Donavan asked, looking crushed and pulling Faustino’s hand up to kiss it softly. “I’ll lead us to the center.” He said with a confident grin, though he was planning to do otherwise. What fun was a maze if you didn’t get lost once or twice anyway? “Though it will be an adventure, of sorts.” Donavan explained as they made their way across the garden to the maze entrance. “I don’t know my way around at all. It might take hours. Are you up for it?”
"Of course," Faustino replied, allowing Donavan to lead him along. "It just seems to me you have the worst sense of direction at the funniest times, you know," he added teasingly, winking at Donavan. "Well, let's go! Show me the way."
“Is that so?” Donavan mused. “Maybe there are times when I take a longer rout just so that we have a little bit of extra time together.” Donavan suggested. He led them down the first left turn, then made another left at the next fork. That was what he was doing now, it was true—deliberately picking paths that would take them away for the center, just for the fun of it. He would enjoy the challenge later, and all along the way, he would enjoy just being with Faustino. “Just keep in mind that I always know exactly what I’m doing.”
Faustino laughed, following Donavan in what he was fairly sure was the wrong direction. "I'm sure you do... but sometimes that worries me." As they came to a dead end and Donavan turned, Faustino tugged on his arm and stood up on his toes to catch Donavan's lips in a kiss. "Still, I don't mind spending the extra time with you, if it's just the two of us," he added pulling back slightly. "So I guess it's okay."
“It better be,” Donavan laughed, placing his arms around Faustino’s waist and pulling him back up for another, more aggressive kiss. He broke it with a smirk and pulled back, heading towards the nearest turn. It seemed now that they were heading in the right direction, and Donavan smiled. Not for long. “What is there to worry about, anyway?” Donavan asked. “I’d never let anything happen to you, and I know I can always trust you to keep me on track. It doesn’t matter if we take a little extra time now and then, does it?”
"Of course not," Faustino replied, taking Donavan's hand again as he turned a sharp corner. "I know I can take care of myself, so I suppose I shouldn't have any concern... except, of course, that I shouldn't be able to walk on the way back out." He gave Donavan a pointed, look, though the corners of his lips here tugged upwards slightly. "I'd be sad if you made me limp all the way back..."
“Do you really think that poorly of me?” Donavan laughed again, pulling an exaggerated and theatrical hurt-face. “I’d never do something so ungentlemanly.” He declared, leading the way down another right turn, leading them back away from the center. “I’ll have you know that when I do decide to push you to the ground, rip off all your clothes, kiss you breathless, and fuck you into the grass, I’ll certainly be courteous enough to carry you back to the party.”
"That is courteous of you," Faustino shot back with a laugh, ignoring Donavan's mock-hurt face. "If it's going to be the grass, though, you'd better be thorough with the clothes-ripping. This outfit would grass stain so easily, and it's new," he pointed out with a bit of a whine, just to be contrary.
“Oh, no, don’t worry. I’m well aware.” Donavan said reassuringly as they veered left. “I’ll be sure to strip you completely before I pin you to the ground and ravage every square inch of your body.” He kept his tone level and matter-of-fact, but he couldn’t keep his smirk from broadening and his heartbeat from quickening as he imagined all the things he could do to Faustino. This was infinitely better than a polite society party.
"I'm glad we've cleared that up, then," Faustino replied, just as evenly, wondering absently where Donavan was taking them. "Though, I'm sure M. Mauvais will say something nasty if I come back with all sorts of hickeys. He doesn't like it when you do things like that while he's around." Faustino laughed at the though; he was never quite sure why the Queen so hated the idea of he and Donavan together; it wasn't like Faustino wanted to watch them, but his and the Commandant's relationship certainly didn't bother him. "Are you sure you want to get yelled at?" he asked faux-innocently, looking up at Donavan. "I'd hate to get you in trouble..."
“Well, it’s worth it to have my way with you.” Donavan replied, as if the answer were obvious. “Besides, what makes you think I’ll be kissing you anywhere that Perceval will be able to see?” Donavan asked slyly, stealing a glance down at Faustino and smirking suggestively as they headed down a path on their right.
Faustino laughed, shaking his head. "Well, you did promise every square inch," he reminded. "That includes places people can see, and now I'll be so disappointed if you don't keep your word..."
“I did, didn’t I…?” Donavan agreed, nodding thoughtfully. “I’d never break a promise I made with you, Faustino.” Donavan said seriously, pausing and looking down into Faustino’s eyes. He held his gaze for a moment longer, then turned and started walking again, abruptly turning down a rout on their right once again. “Now, how then, to avoid Perceval…” He sighed and turned them again. They were probably very close to the center now; just a little further. “Well, we don’t have to go back?” Donavan suggested deviously, glancing sidelong at Faustino with another smirk. “We can stay out here long after all the guests have left—I’m sure we’ll have enough to keep ourselves occupied.”
"As tempting as that is," Faustino replied without missing a beat, "and as much as I know you like fucking me in the most bizarre places, I'd prefer to spend the night in my own bed, rather than trespassing on palace grounds. God only knows, M. Mauvais'd probably set the guards on us, or something, if he figured out someone was there." And that, Faustino decided distinctly, was not a pleasant thought... he still had nightmares about those stupid guards and that stupid dungeon. "I guess we'll just have to face him, on way or another... and since we're going to have to... may as well put all in, right?" He grinned wickedly up at Donavan, raising an eyebrow. "You cousin would be so disappointed if we did things halfway, don't you think?"
“Yes, I agree.” Donavan laughed. “And we certainly can’t do anything he wouldn’t approve of, can we?” He laughed again at the notion, considering everything they did seemed to upset Perceval one way or another. “I think I’d be just as disappointed if we didn’t go all out.” Donavan concluded, coming to a stop as he realized they’d reached the center, as marked by an exquisite white marble fountain. Of course, he hardly noticed the decoration; he’d already spun, catching Faustino roughly by the arm and pulling him into a hungry kiss. Donavan had already spent the better part of their maze adventure holding himself back—he refused to do it any longer. He had a promise to fulfill, after all.
Donavan unfolded the official paper once more and looked over it briefly. An official summons—his first—had arrived by messenger only an hour earlier, and Donavan had hurried immediately to the palace where he now sat, in a room into which he’d been directed to wait for Algernon’s audience. He’d never actually been “summoned” before; he usually just came and went as he pleased, and when and if Algernon needed the Berceuse Malheureuse for any reason, he’d been informed in the past by way of a letter, if not during one of his frequent visits. This—this was unusual, and Donavan shifted again, fidgeting with the paper in his hands and glancing up at the door. What could Algernon possibly want with him so urgently?
Faustino, meanwhile, was more than upset. Donavan had been officially summoned to the palace by the Commandant himself, and now Faustino was alone with the knowledge that Donavan was most certainly with someone else. He hated it, he hated it the worst that Donavan didn't even try to hide it, that he paraded his unfaithfulness around like it was perfectly fine, and now he was left with nothing to do but sit curled up in his chair and not read his book and look longingly out the window, hoping Donavan would return soon and love him again.
Perceval didn’t knock; no sooner had his automobile arrived at his cousin’s house than he was pushing through the door, crying Faustino’s name between bitter sobs. He couldn’t stand to stay in the place, not now, not with the way Algernon was acting, not now that he’d summoned Donavan, of all people! Perceval knew Faustino was the only one he could go to, the only one who would understand… they could suffer together. A servant, terrified, directed him to the study where Faustino was reading, and Perceval threw himself into the room unannounced, slamming the door shut behind himself. He fell back against the door and pushed his hair off his face behind his shoulders, feverishly wiping away at his tears. They were in the same situation—it would do him no good to cry now. “I’m sorry…” Perceval said tightly, straightening his knickers and wiping at his eyes once more. “I couldn’t stay there—not with Donavan—!”
Faustino looked up from not reading, startled by the dramatic entrance. Tossing his book aside, he stood, making his way over to M. Mauvais, still a little in shock. "C-come sit down," he managed, taking him by the arm and leading him over to the sofa, where Faustino sat behind him. "...What's going on... with the Commandant...?" He had never seen the Queen this upset before, never seen him lose his composure so thoroughly, and it was really rather frightening.
Perceval took a slow, even breath, sliding gratefully into the chair. He was shaking slightly, but he crossed his legs and folded his arms in his lap to hold still. “It’s his…pet.” Perceval spat, looking away quickly. “He’s dead.” He unfolded his arms to smooth out his clothing once again as he began to collect himself, fixing his hair carefully and making himself presentable once more. “I wouldn’t care, except that…except that it upset Algernon.” Perceval pursed his lips and glared out the window. He was glad Christian was dead, and if Algernon hadn’t seemed just so…angry, he would have already begun planning a celebratory ball. “And the fact that he needs Donavan—” Perceval couldn’t finish, and turned back to face Faustino sharply, knowing that he would understand. “Faustino… I just—I want to be the one to comfort him!” In spite of his efforts, the tears fell once again and Perceval clenched his fists. “Why doesn’t he want me?”
Faustino's eyes widened, and he took M. Mauvais' hand in his own, trying to be comforting somehow without messing up the perfection he knew the Queen strove so hard for. He was shocked - how could Christian have possibly died? Didn't the Commandant keep him locked away somewhere...? Faustino almost smiled humourlessly; if it hadn't been for this incident, he would be glad too. "How... how did it happen? Didn't...?" But that wasn't the issue right now... they had a common problem, and, it seemed, there was absolutely no solution. "... I... don't know..." he mumbled, feeling stupid. "Donavan... I hate that he's always going to see him... but I can't ever do anything about it... I'm so sorry..."
“I know,” Perceval breathed deeply, this time carefully removing a handkerchief and dabbing daintily at his eyes, gradually recovering more of his composure. “I know it’s just as bad for you.” He swallowed and replaced the handkerchief; he would not cry any more, he was determined, and he smoothed his vest once more, taking his hand out of Faustino’s. “But this time it’s worse for me.” Perceval hissed bitterly, “Because this time, it was Algernon who wanted Donavan—badly enough to have him summoned!” Perceval clenched his fists once again and looked away. Under normal circumstances, Algernon and Donavan’s little escapades were easier for him to endure because Perceval had always considered Donavan to be responsible—it was always Donavan who went to see Algernon, never the other way around, and it was Donavan, of course, deranged nymphomaniac that he was, who surely encouraged and exacerbated the unfaithful behavior. Now, though, Perceval didn’t even have that small comfort to fall back upon; Algernon was upset, more so than Perceval had ever seen him, and now, of all times, he wanted Donavan and there was nothing Perceval could do. “I’m sorry to come to you with this, but there was nowhere else I could go!” Perceval reiterated angrily, upset with his own powerlessness.
"It's all right, it's all right," Faustino tried to soothe, but, really, he was feeling equally as miserable about the whole thing, and he hardly knew what to say, not to mention how to comfort M. Mauvais when he was feeling so down himself. "You can always come to me," he offered, hoping that would help, somehow... because he knew that, when this was the problem, he always felt better if he could go to Perceval. "Maybe... maybe he's just so mad, he doesn't want to be angry towards you...? It might be easier, since Donavan had... had Dragomir, and everything..."
“Oh yes.” Perceval spat, “Because I’m sure all their doing is commiserating!” He rolled his eyes and fell back against the chair with a groan. “I hate him.” Perceval whined, looking up at Faustino. Obviously, Faustino felt quite a bit differently about Donavan than he did, but surely he understood the feeling… If only it weren’t for Donavan, everything would be perfect—there would be no one else but Algernon and himself, now that Christian was dead. “Do you want to know how he died? Christian, I mean?” Perceval asked abruptly, a shadow of a smirk showing on his lips. He could take solace, at least, in the death of Algernon’s disgusting toy, and he was sure Faustino would appreciate whatever details he could give as well. “He never moved; he never spoke. He was absolutely nothing. No one would have thought there was enough of him left to plan his own death—that he had it left in him to defy Algernon a final time.” Perceval paused, his lips twitching once again. “He drowned himself in the bathtub.”
“Really?” Donavan gasped, getting to his feet—Algernon hadn’t taken a seat as he explained the circumstances for his summons, and so it seemed appropriate. “Drowned?” Donavan questioned emphatically. “How did he—? I didn’t even think he moved by himself any more, let alone thought anything out at all…” Donavan swallowed and thought back to how strange things had been for him as he adjusted to Dragomir’s death. He felt, however, that things were much different for Algernon… He hadn’t made the decision to put Niles to death, after all—he hadn’t been ready (or at least hadn’t thought he was ready) to make the change. “I’m sorry. Is there anything I can do…?”
Algernon, who had had his back turned to Donavan until this point, turned sharply, looking Donavan in the eyes with an entirely cold gaze. Ever since Niles had killed himself, Algernon had been in an absolute rage-- how dare that little wretch defy Algernon?! He was entirely empty, entirely useless, entirely crushed, or so Algernon had thought... but then he had gone and... and done this, and moved out of Algernon's control-- permanently. It was the worst blow to Algernon's desire, his need to be in control, and he simply couldn't take it. He had to get his anger out somehow, and he certainly couldn't allow himself to touch Perceval, not in this state. He had pointedly avoided him to keep from hurting him, instead calling the next person he knew he had control over-- Donavan D'Aubigne.
After gazing into Donavan's eyes from a moment, Algernon's lips barely parted and he spoke, his tone icy, ordering. "Yes. Put your hands behind your back and don't move." Revealing himself fully to Donavan, he raised the gun he held in his other hand and aimed for Donavan's head. "I'm afraid I'll have to force you to comply. Don't make this harder than it has to be."
“W-what?” Donavan stammered, looking quickly from the gun to Algernon, then back again, putting his hands behind his back as instructed, unsure of what else to do. “You can’t really be serious, Algernon. I mean, a gun?” He laughed uneasily, and offered a small smile. “I’m not going to be difficult…I don’t know what you want, but you certainly don’t need a gun to get anything from me. Be reasonable, Algernon.” He was ashamed of how servile his tone sounded, but he was unarmed and Algernon was acting strange enough to justify his twinge of fear.
Approaching Donavan, not lowering the gun, Algernon laughed humourlessly. "I'm afraid I'm not in the mood to be reasonable, Donavan," he replied, his voice still cold. "Now, do as I say and no one will be hurt." Looking over Donavan a moment, going over the logistics in his mind and already feeling slightly comforted to be in control, he tugged at the back of Donavan's collar, watching as he stumbled slightly for balance. After another moment of thought, he pressed the gun to the back of Donavan's head. "Take off your clothes," he hissed into his ear from behind, drawing back only slightly to allow him to move. No matter what, Donavan would stay in his control.
Donavan lifted his hands quickly into the air as he felt the barrel of the gun press into the back of his head, and turned, looking over his shoulder at Algernon uneasily. “Algernon,” he hedged, “what, exactly, do you want?” Even as he asked, Donavan moved his hands slowly to his cravat and began slowly pulling it from his collar, not wanting to push Algernon, not so long as he had the gun, if he could avoid it. “You don’t need a gun to get my clothes off, you know.” Donavan feigned a laugh once again, testing the situation hesitantly. “It’s, uhh…actually more likely to complicate things… Why don’t you put it away and we can work something out?” The suggestion was risky, Donavan feared, but really, something had to be done quickly—Donavan had no intention of being forced into anything.
Algernon was hardly in the mood to be argued with, and cocked his pistol loudly for Donavan to hear. "Don't make this harder than it has to be," he repeated. "I've given you an order. If you choose not to comply... well..." He licked his lips, wiggling his finger against the trigger so that Donavan could see. "You know better than to defy me."
“I’m not—I’m not!” Donavan said quickly, making a show of dropping his untied cravat to the floor and shrugging out of his jacket hurriedly. “I think I could do a better job of giving you what you want if you’d let me know, though, rather than going through all of this. Really, the gun is unnecessary, Algernon.” Donavan managed to say smoothly, in spite of his mounting fear.
At Donavan's continued disobeying, Algernon snapped, and with his free hand, he lashed out, striking Donavan in the head. "This is your last warning," he ground out, regaining a little bit of control and pressing the pistol to Donavan's head again. "Shut up and do as I say."
Donavan hunched forward reflexively at the hit and his hand snapped up to the spot defensively. “Shit,” he groaned, “Come on, Algernon!” Even as he whined, however, he continued undoing the buttons of his vest, hurrying to do as he was told to avoid angering Algernon further. Dropping the vest to the floor once he’d finished, he turned ever so slightly to face Algernon now that he was bare to the waist. “Look,” he said quickly, looking directly into Algernon’s eyes as he reached for the gun, grabbing hold of the barrel and pointing it to the floor. “If sex is what you want, fine. Just tell me. This kind of thing isn’t going to work with me, Algernon—I don’t respond well to threats.”
"And I don't respond well to being disobeyed," Algernon hissed, twisting his hand such that Donavan had to release his hold on the gun. Drawing back, he lashed out again, this time with the pistol, hitting Donavan squarely in the head with a gratifying smacking noise. As Donavan was doubled over with the force of the impact, Algernon kicked him squarely in the back, forcing him to the ground. "It seems you want to do this the hard way... very well," he sneered, firing two warning shots, one on either side of Donavan's head. "How can I break you?"
Donavan cried out at the impact and fell to the ground, shuddering as he pressed his hand to the head wound and felt warm blood in his palm. “Algernon!” Donavan moaned, keeping his eyes on the ground and his hand against his head, “I’ll do it! Whatever you want! Just stop this!”
A smirk crawled across Algernon's features. "That's more like it," he drawled softly, leaning over and taking Donavan's chin in his hand, forcing him to look up at him. "Don't look so sad, now. Just do as I say, and I won't have to hurt you." Digging his fingernails into the side of Donavan's face for a moment longer, he released him, aiming the gun at him again, if a little more offhandedly. "Finish taking off your clothes for me, now, won't you?"
Donavan clenched his jaw and got to his feet, taking his hand from his wound and wiping the blood on his knickers, glaring at Algernon. He looked down at the ground after a moment and began unbuttoning the final article of clothing, kicking off his shoes then slowly stepping out of his knickers. “How’s that?” Donavan demanded, eyeing the gun. “You have me. Do you really need that? Just tell me what else you want and I’ll do it.”
"Now, now," Algernon patronized, "I'll do what I like, and you ought to behave yourself." Looking around the parlour, he motioned to the far wall. "Let's go, up against that wall. We wouldn't want to soil the carpet now, would we?" Waving the gun around, he added, "Hurry up, now, or else I'll have to add some incentive, won't I?"
Perceval leaned forward and refilled Faustino’s cup of tea elegantly before refilling his own as well with equal grace. It wasn’t often that he poured his own tea, but Perceval made it a habit to maintain his good manners for situations like this. He was still in a rage, but he’d managed mostly to get himself under control so as to suffer quietly along with Faustino as they both drank tea and ate biscuits and cookies waiting for Donavan’s return. Perceval refused to return to the palace as long as he knew Donavan was still there, and of course, he might as well keep Faustino company in the interim. Thus, they were on their third pot of fine fragrant tea and their second tray of tea cookies; it was easier to ignore the dull ache of inadequacy with sweets and hollow conversations as distractions.
“I was thinking that I’d like to include the peacocks in my next party’s theme,” Perceval explained to Faustino conversationally. “But I worry that as it will be in autumn, the bird’s coloring won’t go with any season-appropriate colors…” He continued thoughtfully, though he knew Faustino was unlikely to be any more interested in his party plans now than he had been at the beginning of the night when they’d first started to fake their distractive conversations. He let up the shame for a split second to check the time. It was well past midnight now, and he looked back at Faustino, meeting his gaze. “How long do you think this will go on?” Perceval asked plaintively, letting go of the act entirely.
Faustino shifted uncomfortably, shaking his head with a sigh. "I... I don't know," he replied sadly, swallowing and looking at the clock as well. If it wasn't for the caffeine in the tea, he knew he would almost be asleep by now, and he wished desperately the Donavan would return already, even if it was only another reminder of his own inadequacy. "I hope... I hope he's back soon..."
Perceval nodded in agreement and looked down at his own reflection in the cup of tea. Why wasn’t he good enough for Algernon? Why, at a time like this, when Algernon was so obviously upset, didn’t he want Perceval there to comfort him? Perceval almost hoped it was because Algernon believed that he would be insensitive to Algernon’s loss… While it was true that Perceval was glad for Christian’s death, he wished he knew for certain that Algernon would trust him to understand… And, at the same time, Perceval couldn’t believe that that was the only reason for Donavan’s summons. Could it be that Donavan really was better suited to offering Algernon the kind of comfort he needed? Sex was one thing, but if it was anything more…Perceval didn’t think he could take it.
Perceval started, at a sound outside the door and sat up a little straighter immediately, watching the door directly opposite he and Faustino intently. Was it Donavan? He swallowed, pursing his lips in anticipation, trying to brace himself for the possibility that it was not actually Donavan, but one of the servants to collect the trays. The footsteps were slow and heavy, and did not sound like Donavan’s obnoxiously cocky gate at all.
The door did open, however, slowly, and none other than Donavan slumped into the room. He smiled strangely at Faustino, looking almost relieved, though the expression seemed peculiarly ambiguous in the dim light. Instead of moving out of the dark entry and to a sofa, he moved to the side, leaning heavily against the wall by the door. Even in the poor light, Perceval could see that Donavan was an absolute mess; his hair was partially pulled out of the tie that usually held it back, and it was matted oddly on one side. His vest was buttoned lopsided, and aside for the characteristic absence of a blouse, Donavan was also missing a cravat. It was despicable, and Perceval turned away sharply; Donavan’s state of partial undress was a painfully obvious clue as to what he and Algernon had been up to, and Perceval clenched his fists, wondering if Donavan had purposefully gone out of his way to hurt them both by making his activities with Algernon perfectly apparent.
“Oh, Perceval…I didn’t think you’d be here.” Donavan laughed weakly, folding his arms over his chest and dropping his head against the wall. “I hope you’ve been keeping Faustino entertained for me?”
“You look absolutely atrocious.” Perceval snapped tersely. “How dare you show yourself in such a condition!”
“I suppose you’re right.” Donavan agreed, laughing again and sounding, Perceval thought, almost ashamed. “Then again, cousin, hasn’t it occurred to you how pathetic you are? You just couldn’t stand it that Algernon called on me, could you?” Donavan asked bitterly. “You do a pretty good job of covering it all up, but I know you’re an insecure jealous wreck.”
Donavan watched as Perceval sprang to his feet and stood perfectly straight, shaking only slightly as hot angry tears streamed down his face. Donavan smiled coldly, the expression slightly lopsided as his left cheek was bruised and rather swollen, and sucked the cut in his mouth for a moment longer before he continued. “Get over it. I’m nothing to him.” Donavan stated plainly. Perceval stood, mute and trembling for a moment longer before Donavan reached over and opened the door out of the parlor. “I bet he wants to see you now.”
Without another word, Perceval crossed the room in four long strides and paused just long enough to glare at Donavan venomously as he passed through the threshold. Donavan watched as he strode down the hall and out of sight, wondering vaguely whether Perceval had looked long enough to figure out why Donavan wouldn’t have made it as far as a sofa to sit down. The bruise on his cheek wasn’t the only discoloration forming on his skin; they were everywhere—up and down his arms, around his wrists, a few on his legs—not to mention all the cuts and scratches that still seemed to burn all down his back and against his check. His lip was split, and though the blood that had trickled down the side of his face from the blow to his head had long since stopped flowing, it was still warm and sticky against his skin, and his hair was matted all around the wound. The worst of it, though, Perceval wouldn’t have been able to see, not unless he knew what he was looking for. No, that was why Donavan was pressed up against the wall; it was both for support and to conceal the blood that he could feel rolling down the backs of his legs—the only outward sign of the real damage.
Donavan sighed and lifted his hand to his face, not looking at Faustino as he spoke. “I’m sorry to have kept you waiting for so long, Faustino. You shouldn’t have waited up for me…”
Something was wrong, Faustino could tell that, plain as day, but he couldn't figure out what. Rising, he slowly made his way to Donavan's side, peering up at him, and only then could he tell, could he see it all. The bruises, the blood... something bad had obviously happened, and Faustino's heart was suddenly beating out of his chest with worry. "Donavan-- what... what happened?!"
Algernon sighed and ran a hand through his hair, sitting on the edge of the bed, staring out into space. He felt better now... calmer, having taken care of his need to dominate, to cause pain... He would just push the matter from his head now. After all, he had a country to run, and he had Perceval, and that, he knew, ought to be more than enough. Sighing again, he rolled his wrist and stretched his fingers, wishing more strongly than he expected that Perceval was here now. He didn't know when he had left, but he had a feeling it had something to do with Donavan, a fact that sent a twinge of that bad feeling running through him. Now that everything was taken care of, he just wanted to hold Perceval close, to remind himself of what was really important... hopefully, he would return home soon.
Perceval stopped outside the door to the bedroom he and Algernon shared and inhaled slowly, trying to calm himself. He was worried that his eyes would still be red and puffy from crying, but he couldn’t stand to wait any longer to see Algernon. It had been so long…and Perceval was terrified that Algernon still wouldn’t want to see him, in spite of what Donavan said, even now that Algernon had finished with Donavan. Perceval smoothed his knickers and adjusted his jacket, running his fingers through his hair and arranging it on his shoulders as he tried to brace himself for the possibility of another rejection. He had to see Algernon, he couldn’t wait any longer, and though he didn’t know if he could take another moment of being apart, Perceval knew he had to try. He went over himself a final time, perfecting everything and composing a calm and collected face before knocking gently on the door. “Algernon…?” Perceval asked softly, pressing the door open and peering inside. “I’ve just gotten back…” Perceval explained hesitantly, stepping inside.
Algernon looked up when he heard Perceval's voice, and was relieved to see that he had finally returned. Rising, he strode quickly to the door, not hesitating to pull Perceval inside and shove the door shut and draw him into a tight embrace. He had nothing, really, to say, nothing he needed to convey to Perceval besides the need to hold him close, now, and to not let go for a long time.
“A-Algernon,” Perceval stammered, wrapping his arms tightly around Algernon and melting into the embrace. He felt the tears prickle at the corners of his eyes once again and quickly buried his face against Algernon’s shoulder. It felt so good to be in Algernon’s arms like this…even after everything, even in knowing that Algernon and Donavan had been together, whenever Algernon held him like this, Perceval could forget it all… He knew Algernon really did love him. “Don’t let go of me…” Perceval murmured softly.
"Of course," Algernon replied softly, stroking Perceval's hair gently. "Please don't cry, Percy..." Placing a kiss on the top of Perceval's head, he carefully pulled back only slightly so that he could look into his eyes. Directing his energies to making Perceval feel better (especially since it was his fault) was the best way to take his mind off things, and so he offered a small smile, wiping away Perceval's tears with his thumb. "I love you, Percy... so don't cry..."
Perceval closed his eyes and breathed a sigh of relief as Algernon’s words filled him with a feeling of warmth and devotion. Hearing Algernon say that he loved him was enough for Perceval; whatever Algernon had to do for whatever reason, in the end as long as Algernon still loved him, Perceval could and would always find away to endure. “I love you, too, Algernon.” Perceval smiled softly, dabbing carefully at his eyes with the back of his wrist to stop the tears. His smile widened slightly, and Perceval looked back into Algernon’s eyes. It seemed to Perceval that Algernon was back to himself, and surely, now that Christian was gone and Algernon wanted him again, everything would go back to being perfect.
“What happened?” Donavan repeated, laughing with some difficultly as he repeated Faustino’s question. “Well, I’m sure you can imagine…” He trailed, swallowing the blood he’d sucked from the cut in his mouth. He lowered his hand slowly and smiled darkly, the expression lopsided because of the dark bruise. “I suppose Perceval told you why Algernon sent for me.” Donavan shrugged. “He, uhh..wasn’t in a very good mood.”
Faustino was still quite a bit in shock; he couldn't imagine how the Commandant could possibly ever win in a fight against Donavan, but, he told himself, that wasn't really what mattered right now. "Oh, Donavan..." he stuttered, feeling his heart wrench at how miserable Donavan looked. "Can... can you walk? You need to lie down, and I'll... I'll take care of everything and get you cleaned up, so..." Faustino knew he ought to be strong, but he couldn't help it, he felt tears forming in the corners of his eyes, and he sniffed. "... so do you need my help to walk?"
“I made it this far.” Donavan replied, though he made no attempt to move, instead shifting more of his weight against the wall. “I don’t want to trouble you,” he added, sliding slightly to the side against the wall in the direction of the door. Keeping hold of the doorframe, he opened it and stepped out of the room, hesitating a moment and turning back to Faustino. “I can do it, but I’m sure it’d go faster with help…” He gritted his teeth and smiled once again angry at the situation he’d put them both in…he hated being like this in front of Faustino, but he didn’t particularly want to leave him, not now. Donavan didn’t want to be alone, either…
"O-of course!" Faustino replied quickly, hurrying to Donavan's side and letting Donavan put an arm around his shoulders. He could tell Donavan was really upset, besides being injured... but he wouldn't ask now. Right now, what was important was getting Donavan to bed and cleaning him up. "Do... do you think you can make it up the stairs?" he asked carefully, looking up at Donavan, worry playing across his features. "I think it would be best if we got you in bed..."
“Sure. Between you and the banister, I should be able to drag myself up there somehow.” He laughed once more, knowing that every time he faked it, it sounded successively more forced and bitter. As the reached the bottom of the staircase, Donavan sighed and took hold of the banister, transferring the majority of his weight to it from Faustino. “You waited all this time and look at me. I’m a wreck. Sorry to disappoint—you really don’t have to help me. It’s my own fault.”
"No--!" Faustino was surprised at the determination in his own voice, but he didn't change his tone, looking up at Donavan. "I'll always be here to help you, Donavan... you... you don't understand." He could feel the tears coming, now, and he swallowed, but continued nonetheless; this was how he felt and he was going to let Donavan know. "I love you, Donavan... no matter what else... no matter who else there is... I'll always be waiting for you, and I'll always help you and take care of you when you need me... because I love you." He knew that sounded weak and childish... but it was the truth, and so Faustino sniffed and looked down, trying to get Donavan to let him take more of his weight instead of straining himself.
Donavan paused and looked back at Faustino, gently taking his face in his hand and angling his chin up so that he could see his eyes. “Thank you.” Donavan swallowed, a slight twinge of guilt prickling through him as he thought of the many times he had made Faustino wait already…and of the many times he was likely to make Faustino wait in the future. “I love you too…more than anything or anyone else. Ever. Don’t think otherwise.” He leaned forward carefully, keeping his hold on the banister, and placed a kiss on Faustino’s lips.
Faustino smiled softly, pitifully, knowing that nothing was going to change but wishing naively that it would, anyway. Still, he knew that Donavan loved him, and right now, what was important was helping him, so Faustino shouldered his weight and helped him to the top of the stairs and down the hall to the bedroom. Once there, he sighed, struggling the last bit to the bed and leaving Donavan there. "I'll be right back," he promised, running to the bathroom to collect towels in warm water and bandages.
“No rush…” Donavan exhaled, dropping on the bed face down. He laid still for a moment, then carefully pushed himself up on to his elbows, just enough to shrug out of his jacket and drop it off the side of the bed. His vest had only been half-buttoned to begin with, so he worked his way out of it quickly and cast it aside as well, then gave up. He didn’t really want to move…he didn’t really want to burden Faustino with his treatment, either—he didn’t deserve Faustino’s care right now. If he could just sleep it off, he’d probably be better in the morning...
Returning with iodine and damp towels and bandages, Faustino set the things on the nightstand before hurrying to Donavan's side. Donavan had undressed partly, and Faustino was able to see for the first time all the cuts and scratches that ran across Donavan's chest. He inhaled sharply at the sight of the wounds and immediately got to work, cleaning each spot carefully with the iodine before beginning to wrap Donavan up. "I know it hurts... I'm sorry," he responded softly when Donavan gritted his teeth; he knew Donavan would try to hide it, would pretend it didn't hurt when it really did. Tying off the bandange, he sat up on his knees, brushing Donavan's hair out of his face. "It'll be over soon, I'm sorry..."
“You didn’t have to. Those would have just healed. It’s…it’s nothing serious.” Donavan turned away for a moment, briefly wondering why Faustino even bothered. If anything, Donavan had expected to receive a ‘serves you right’ sort of reprimand. He probably deserved it, but it wouldn’t do any good to dwell on it now. Donavan clenched his jaw and took the towel from Faustino, wiping the blood off of his face and dabbing at the gash, hissing through his teeth at the sting. “Thanks…” Donavan said after a moment, taking the towel off the wound and checking to see that it hadn’t started bleeding again. It hadn’t. He set the towel aside and took Faustino’s hand in his, meeting his eyes. “I’m sure that’s enough. I’ll be fine now.” And Donavan was sure he would be ‘fine’ one way or another in time, he just couldn’t stand for Faustino to see how hurt he was…he didn’t want Faustino to have to deal with it.
"Donavan," Faustino replied, trying his best to be stern. "I know you were limping. You must be hurt worse. I want to take care of you and make you feel better, okay?" He knew Donavan hated to look weak, but Faustino was much more concerned with helping him heal, and so he reached for a clean towel. "Please... let me take care of you."
Donavan furrowed his brows and smiled resignedly, giving Faustino’s hand a light squeeze. “I don’t know what you can really do. I can clean myself up, after all.” Donavan forced a laugh and winced as he pulled himself into a sitting position, shifting carefully into the least painful position possible. “You being here makes me feel better…you don’t need to do too much else.” He got to his feet slowly, took another towel, and staggered to the wall, bracing himself as he undid the buttons of his knickers and let them drop to the floor as he began wiping away the blood. “It won’t take longer than a week to heal, I’m sure.” Donavan grimaced.
Faustino's eyes widened when he saw the blood, and, immediately, he was at Donavan's side. Looking up into his eyes plaintively, he couldn't find words for a moment. "Donavan--" he struggled, "Donavan, what did he do to you?! Oh, god, Donavan..." Falling back against the wall, he began to cry again... it was almost as if his own inadequcy had ended in this happening to Donavan... perhaps, somehow, it was his fault. "I'm sorry, Donavan..." he sobbed, "I... I'm sorry..."
“Faustino…” Donavan murmured. “It’s…it’s not your fault.” He knelt with some difficulty and pulled Faustino into his arms. “Don’t cry…I’ll be fine…and please don’t apologize.” Donavan pulled back just enough to kiss Faustino softly on the lips and wipe gently at his tears. Knowing Faustino thought it was his fault made the entire situation even more unbearable. As bad as this was, as despicable as Donavan felt, Faustino still managed to blame himself, and Donavan couldn’t stand it. “It’s all my fault,” Donavan said sternly, “I let things go too far.”
"But... but..." Faustino trembled, "If I... if you didn't... I just... I don't want you to get hurt, Donavan!" Pressing his face into his hands, he continued to cry, wishing somehow, he could just make all of this better, make all the bad things go away. "I want to be able to help... I want to be able to fix things... but... but..." And he was lost to his sobs again, feeling terrible and miserable and completely useless.
“Something like this was bound to happen with Algernon.” Donavan admitted darkly. “There’s nothing that can be done about it now…you just have to trust that I’ll be fine. And I will.” Donavan promised, gently prying Faustino’s hands from his face so that he could look into his eyes. “I have you, after all,” he smiled genuinely. “I know I can trust you… I love you, and as long as I have you, I know I’ll be all right.” Donavan wiped the tears from Faustino’s cheeks once more and managed a grin. “At least now you won’t have to see so much of Perceval? I won’t ever go back there again, you realize. So don’t cry, okay?”
Faustino looked up into Donavan's eyes, trembling for a moment longer before nodding. "O-okay..." he managed, swallowing. He would be strong for Donavan. He had to be. "I love you, Donavan. I'll always be here for you, okay?" His voice was getting stronger now, and he squeezed Donavan's hand. "I'll be stong for you, no matter what."
“I know. You’re the only one I can trust, Faustino…” Donavan pulled Faustino into his arms and held him gently for a moment, sighing. “You’re all I have…and I know you won’t leave me.” He pulled back and met Faustino’s eyes, again managing to smile. “I love you. Thank you for everything you do for me.” Donavan slid his hands down Faustino’s arms and pushed himself back up to a standing position before flopping onto the bed and rolling onto his chest in an effort to get comfortable. “Hey,” Donavan prefaced, reaching over and catching Faustino’s hand once more, “I hope you don’t mind that I’m not letting go of you tonight.”
Faustino smiled warmly, nodding and climbing into bed next to Donavan. "Of course. I told you I'd always be here for you, right?" Pecking Donavan on the cheek sweetly, he laid beside him, not wanting to let go of his hand. "You don't need to thank me. Just sleep well, and feel better in the morning, okay?" He gave Donavan a cute grin before yawning. Now that the trauma was dealt with, it was very late, and, Faustino realized, he was rather sleepy. "Sweet dreams, Donavan."
“With you beside me all night,” Donavan smirked, “I know my dreams will be good ones.” He pressed a kiss to the back of Faustino’s neck playfully and swung his arm over him, pulling him in closer. Donavan wasn’t going to think about anything beyond this one moment; he had Faustino, who would never leave him, he was bandaged and he would heal—he never had to do anything besides business with Algernon from now on, and in fact, it would lessen the strain between Perceval and himself. He could recover, thanks to Faustino. “I love you,” Donavan murmured, “good night.”
Faustino smiled, feeling contented and warm in Donavan's arms. Despite everything, he knew Donavan loved him, and that was what mattered. "Good night," he whispered back, knowing that, in fact, it would be.
As Donavan had predicted, Faustino far outshone his cousin in his new outfit, and even though Perceval seemed to constantly flit from one group of people to the next, twirling around to show off his new white silk jacket and lace vest to prove otherwise, Donavan was certain Faustino was a clear winner. The like Perceval’s efforts to show off, the party mattered little to Donavan; the new garden was pretty, he had to admit, and the decadent snapdragon flower arrangements were certainly a triumph on the part of the gardeners, but Donavan wasn’t really in the mood for chatting and social dancing. He and Faustino stood off to the side at the banquet table where Donavan was absently picking the strawberries out of the decorative fruit arrangement and popping them into his mouth unceremoniously. Perceval would disapprove, but his cousin was distracted, so Donavan continued, smirking deviously at his private rebellion.
“This is getting a little dull, don’t you think, Faustino?” Donavan asked after a moment. “I think I would have been perfectly content just to sit around with you this evening and admire that new outfit” Donavan licked his lips and lifted his brows, looking over Faustino once again and imagining how much more fun they could have already been having had they stayed at home.
Faustino laughed, shaking his head at Donavan. "It's pretty, though," he pointed out, admiring Perceval's white peacocks in their golden cages. "You don't ever give me birds, you know. I ought to be jealous." Teasingly poking Donavan in the shoulder, he leaned on the table a little. "Still. What do you want to do to entertain ourselves?"
“Do you want birds?” Donavan asked, playfully aghast as he rubbed his shoulder in mock pain. He shrugged at Faustino’s next question and scanned the area disinterestedly, narrowing his eyes. “We should lodge a formal complaint with our dear friend Perceval at some point… Maybe next time he can hire some entertainment.” Donavan laughed, imagining for a moment Perceval making use of some of the girls he owned for a party like this. “I don’t want to deal with him now, though.” Donavan took another strawberry and looked back down at Faustino. “Let’s take off for a bit, just us. Want to try out the maze?”
"All right!" Faustino replied brightly, taking Donavan's hand. "Let's go! I'll follow you, don't get us lost, okay?" He grinned, fairly sure that Donavan was going to get them lost on purpose, but, he supposed, it was worth it, for show, to try to keep him from doing so.
“You don’t really think I’d do something like that, do you?” Donavan asked, looking crushed and pulling Faustino’s hand up to kiss it softly. “I’ll lead us to the center.” He said with a confident grin, though he was planning to do otherwise. What fun was a maze if you didn’t get lost once or twice anyway? “Though it will be an adventure, of sorts.” Donavan explained as they made their way across the garden to the maze entrance. “I don’t know my way around at all. It might take hours. Are you up for it?”
"Of course," Faustino replied, allowing Donavan to lead him along. "It just seems to me you have the worst sense of direction at the funniest times, you know," he added teasingly, winking at Donavan. "Well, let's go! Show me the way."
“Is that so?” Donavan mused. “Maybe there are times when I take a longer rout just so that we have a little bit of extra time together.” Donavan suggested. He led them down the first left turn, then made another left at the next fork. That was what he was doing now, it was true—deliberately picking paths that would take them away for the center, just for the fun of it. He would enjoy the challenge later, and all along the way, he would enjoy just being with Faustino. “Just keep in mind that I always know exactly what I’m doing.”
Faustino laughed, following Donavan in what he was fairly sure was the wrong direction. "I'm sure you do... but sometimes that worries me." As they came to a dead end and Donavan turned, Faustino tugged on his arm and stood up on his toes to catch Donavan's lips in a kiss. "Still, I don't mind spending the extra time with you, if it's just the two of us," he added pulling back slightly. "So I guess it's okay."
“It better be,” Donavan laughed, placing his arms around Faustino’s waist and pulling him back up for another, more aggressive kiss. He broke it with a smirk and pulled back, heading towards the nearest turn. It seemed now that they were heading in the right direction, and Donavan smiled. Not for long. “What is there to worry about, anyway?” Donavan asked. “I’d never let anything happen to you, and I know I can always trust you to keep me on track. It doesn’t matter if we take a little extra time now and then, does it?”
"Of course not," Faustino replied, taking Donavan's hand again as he turned a sharp corner. "I know I can take care of myself, so I suppose I shouldn't have any concern... except, of course, that I shouldn't be able to walk on the way back out." He gave Donavan a pointed, look, though the corners of his lips here tugged upwards slightly. "I'd be sad if you made me limp all the way back..."
“Do you really think that poorly of me?” Donavan laughed again, pulling an exaggerated and theatrical hurt-face. “I’d never do something so ungentlemanly.” He declared, leading the way down another right turn, leading them back away from the center. “I’ll have you know that when I do decide to push you to the ground, rip off all your clothes, kiss you breathless, and fuck you into the grass, I’ll certainly be courteous enough to carry you back to the party.”
"That is courteous of you," Faustino shot back with a laugh, ignoring Donavan's mock-hurt face. "If it's going to be the grass, though, you'd better be thorough with the clothes-ripping. This outfit would grass stain so easily, and it's new," he pointed out with a bit of a whine, just to be contrary.
“Oh, no, don’t worry. I’m well aware.” Donavan said reassuringly as they veered left. “I’ll be sure to strip you completely before I pin you to the ground and ravage every square inch of your body.” He kept his tone level and matter-of-fact, but he couldn’t keep his smirk from broadening and his heartbeat from quickening as he imagined all the things he could do to Faustino. This was infinitely better than a polite society party.
"I'm glad we've cleared that up, then," Faustino replied, just as evenly, wondering absently where Donavan was taking them. "Though, I'm sure M. Mauvais will say something nasty if I come back with all sorts of hickeys. He doesn't like it when you do things like that while he's around." Faustino laughed at the though; he was never quite sure why the Queen so hated the idea of he and Donavan together; it wasn't like Faustino wanted to watch them, but his and the Commandant's relationship certainly didn't bother him. "Are you sure you want to get yelled at?" he asked faux-innocently, looking up at Donavan. "I'd hate to get you in trouble..."
“Well, it’s worth it to have my way with you.” Donavan replied, as if the answer were obvious. “Besides, what makes you think I’ll be kissing you anywhere that Perceval will be able to see?” Donavan asked slyly, stealing a glance down at Faustino and smirking suggestively as they headed down a path on their right.
Faustino laughed, shaking his head. "Well, you did promise every square inch," he reminded. "That includes places people can see, and now I'll be so disappointed if you don't keep your word..."
“I did, didn’t I…?” Donavan agreed, nodding thoughtfully. “I’d never break a promise I made with you, Faustino.” Donavan said seriously, pausing and looking down into Faustino’s eyes. He held his gaze for a moment longer, then turned and started walking again, abruptly turning down a rout on their right once again. “Now, how then, to avoid Perceval…” He sighed and turned them again. They were probably very close to the center now; just a little further. “Well, we don’t have to go back?” Donavan suggested deviously, glancing sidelong at Faustino with another smirk. “We can stay out here long after all the guests have left—I’m sure we’ll have enough to keep ourselves occupied.”
"As tempting as that is," Faustino replied without missing a beat, "and as much as I know you like fucking me in the most bizarre places, I'd prefer to spend the night in my own bed, rather than trespassing on palace grounds. God only knows, M. Mauvais'd probably set the guards on us, or something, if he figured out someone was there." And that, Faustino decided distinctly, was not a pleasant thought... he still had nightmares about those stupid guards and that stupid dungeon. "I guess we'll just have to face him, on way or another... and since we're going to have to... may as well put all in, right?" He grinned wickedly up at Donavan, raising an eyebrow. "You cousin would be so disappointed if we did things halfway, don't you think?"
“Yes, I agree.” Donavan laughed. “And we certainly can’t do anything he wouldn’t approve of, can we?” He laughed again at the notion, considering everything they did seemed to upset Perceval one way or another. “I think I’d be just as disappointed if we didn’t go all out.” Donavan concluded, coming to a stop as he realized they’d reached the center, as marked by an exquisite white marble fountain. Of course, he hardly noticed the decoration; he’d already spun, catching Faustino roughly by the arm and pulling him into a hungry kiss. Donavan had already spent the better part of their maze adventure holding himself back—he refused to do it any longer. He had a promise to fulfill, after all.
Donavan unfolded the official paper once more and looked over it briefly. An official summons—his first—had arrived by messenger only an hour earlier, and Donavan had hurried immediately to the palace where he now sat, in a room into which he’d been directed to wait for Algernon’s audience. He’d never actually been “summoned” before; he usually just came and went as he pleased, and when and if Algernon needed the Berceuse Malheureuse for any reason, he’d been informed in the past by way of a letter, if not during one of his frequent visits. This—this was unusual, and Donavan shifted again, fidgeting with the paper in his hands and glancing up at the door. What could Algernon possibly want with him so urgently?
Faustino, meanwhile, was more than upset. Donavan had been officially summoned to the palace by the Commandant himself, and now Faustino was alone with the knowledge that Donavan was most certainly with someone else. He hated it, he hated it the worst that Donavan didn't even try to hide it, that he paraded his unfaithfulness around like it was perfectly fine, and now he was left with nothing to do but sit curled up in his chair and not read his book and look longingly out the window, hoping Donavan would return soon and love him again.
Perceval didn’t knock; no sooner had his automobile arrived at his cousin’s house than he was pushing through the door, crying Faustino’s name between bitter sobs. He couldn’t stand to stay in the place, not now, not with the way Algernon was acting, not now that he’d summoned Donavan, of all people! Perceval knew Faustino was the only one he could go to, the only one who would understand… they could suffer together. A servant, terrified, directed him to the study where Faustino was reading, and Perceval threw himself into the room unannounced, slamming the door shut behind himself. He fell back against the door and pushed his hair off his face behind his shoulders, feverishly wiping away at his tears. They were in the same situation—it would do him no good to cry now. “I’m sorry…” Perceval said tightly, straightening his knickers and wiping at his eyes once more. “I couldn’t stay there—not with Donavan—!”
Faustino looked up from not reading, startled by the dramatic entrance. Tossing his book aside, he stood, making his way over to M. Mauvais, still a little in shock. "C-come sit down," he managed, taking him by the arm and leading him over to the sofa, where Faustino sat behind him. "...What's going on... with the Commandant...?" He had never seen the Queen this upset before, never seen him lose his composure so thoroughly, and it was really rather frightening.
Perceval took a slow, even breath, sliding gratefully into the chair. He was shaking slightly, but he crossed his legs and folded his arms in his lap to hold still. “It’s his…pet.” Perceval spat, looking away quickly. “He’s dead.” He unfolded his arms to smooth out his clothing once again as he began to collect himself, fixing his hair carefully and making himself presentable once more. “I wouldn’t care, except that…except that it upset Algernon.” Perceval pursed his lips and glared out the window. He was glad Christian was dead, and if Algernon hadn’t seemed just so…angry, he would have already begun planning a celebratory ball. “And the fact that he needs Donavan—” Perceval couldn’t finish, and turned back to face Faustino sharply, knowing that he would understand. “Faustino… I just—I want to be the one to comfort him!” In spite of his efforts, the tears fell once again and Perceval clenched his fists. “Why doesn’t he want me?”
Faustino's eyes widened, and he took M. Mauvais' hand in his own, trying to be comforting somehow without messing up the perfection he knew the Queen strove so hard for. He was shocked - how could Christian have possibly died? Didn't the Commandant keep him locked away somewhere...? Faustino almost smiled humourlessly; if it hadn't been for this incident, he would be glad too. "How... how did it happen? Didn't...?" But that wasn't the issue right now... they had a common problem, and, it seemed, there was absolutely no solution. "... I... don't know..." he mumbled, feeling stupid. "Donavan... I hate that he's always going to see him... but I can't ever do anything about it... I'm so sorry..."
“I know,” Perceval breathed deeply, this time carefully removing a handkerchief and dabbing daintily at his eyes, gradually recovering more of his composure. “I know it’s just as bad for you.” He swallowed and replaced the handkerchief; he would not cry any more, he was determined, and he smoothed his vest once more, taking his hand out of Faustino’s. “But this time it’s worse for me.” Perceval hissed bitterly, “Because this time, it was Algernon who wanted Donavan—badly enough to have him summoned!” Perceval clenched his fists once again and looked away. Under normal circumstances, Algernon and Donavan’s little escapades were easier for him to endure because Perceval had always considered Donavan to be responsible—it was always Donavan who went to see Algernon, never the other way around, and it was Donavan, of course, deranged nymphomaniac that he was, who surely encouraged and exacerbated the unfaithful behavior. Now, though, Perceval didn’t even have that small comfort to fall back upon; Algernon was upset, more so than Perceval had ever seen him, and now, of all times, he wanted Donavan and there was nothing Perceval could do. “I’m sorry to come to you with this, but there was nowhere else I could go!” Perceval reiterated angrily, upset with his own powerlessness.
"It's all right, it's all right," Faustino tried to soothe, but, really, he was feeling equally as miserable about the whole thing, and he hardly knew what to say, not to mention how to comfort M. Mauvais when he was feeling so down himself. "You can always come to me," he offered, hoping that would help, somehow... because he knew that, when this was the problem, he always felt better if he could go to Perceval. "Maybe... maybe he's just so mad, he doesn't want to be angry towards you...? It might be easier, since Donavan had... had Dragomir, and everything..."
“Oh yes.” Perceval spat, “Because I’m sure all their doing is commiserating!” He rolled his eyes and fell back against the chair with a groan. “I hate him.” Perceval whined, looking up at Faustino. Obviously, Faustino felt quite a bit differently about Donavan than he did, but surely he understood the feeling… If only it weren’t for Donavan, everything would be perfect—there would be no one else but Algernon and himself, now that Christian was dead. “Do you want to know how he died? Christian, I mean?” Perceval asked abruptly, a shadow of a smirk showing on his lips. He could take solace, at least, in the death of Algernon’s disgusting toy, and he was sure Faustino would appreciate whatever details he could give as well. “He never moved; he never spoke. He was absolutely nothing. No one would have thought there was enough of him left to plan his own death—that he had it left in him to defy Algernon a final time.” Perceval paused, his lips twitching once again. “He drowned himself in the bathtub.”
“Really?” Donavan gasped, getting to his feet—Algernon hadn’t taken a seat as he explained the circumstances for his summons, and so it seemed appropriate. “Drowned?” Donavan questioned emphatically. “How did he—? I didn’t even think he moved by himself any more, let alone thought anything out at all…” Donavan swallowed and thought back to how strange things had been for him as he adjusted to Dragomir’s death. He felt, however, that things were much different for Algernon… He hadn’t made the decision to put Niles to death, after all—he hadn’t been ready (or at least hadn’t thought he was ready) to make the change. “I’m sorry. Is there anything I can do…?”
Algernon, who had had his back turned to Donavan until this point, turned sharply, looking Donavan in the eyes with an entirely cold gaze. Ever since Niles had killed himself, Algernon had been in an absolute rage-- how dare that little wretch defy Algernon?! He was entirely empty, entirely useless, entirely crushed, or so Algernon had thought... but then he had gone and... and done this, and moved out of Algernon's control-- permanently. It was the worst blow to Algernon's desire, his need to be in control, and he simply couldn't take it. He had to get his anger out somehow, and he certainly couldn't allow himself to touch Perceval, not in this state. He had pointedly avoided him to keep from hurting him, instead calling the next person he knew he had control over-- Donavan D'Aubigne.
After gazing into Donavan's eyes from a moment, Algernon's lips barely parted and he spoke, his tone icy, ordering. "Yes. Put your hands behind your back and don't move." Revealing himself fully to Donavan, he raised the gun he held in his other hand and aimed for Donavan's head. "I'm afraid I'll have to force you to comply. Don't make this harder than it has to be."
“W-what?” Donavan stammered, looking quickly from the gun to Algernon, then back again, putting his hands behind his back as instructed, unsure of what else to do. “You can’t really be serious, Algernon. I mean, a gun?” He laughed uneasily, and offered a small smile. “I’m not going to be difficult…I don’t know what you want, but you certainly don’t need a gun to get anything from me. Be reasonable, Algernon.” He was ashamed of how servile his tone sounded, but he was unarmed and Algernon was acting strange enough to justify his twinge of fear.
Approaching Donavan, not lowering the gun, Algernon laughed humourlessly. "I'm afraid I'm not in the mood to be reasonable, Donavan," he replied, his voice still cold. "Now, do as I say and no one will be hurt." Looking over Donavan a moment, going over the logistics in his mind and already feeling slightly comforted to be in control, he tugged at the back of Donavan's collar, watching as he stumbled slightly for balance. After another moment of thought, he pressed the gun to the back of Donavan's head. "Take off your clothes," he hissed into his ear from behind, drawing back only slightly to allow him to move. No matter what, Donavan would stay in his control.
Donavan lifted his hands quickly into the air as he felt the barrel of the gun press into the back of his head, and turned, looking over his shoulder at Algernon uneasily. “Algernon,” he hedged, “what, exactly, do you want?” Even as he asked, Donavan moved his hands slowly to his cravat and began slowly pulling it from his collar, not wanting to push Algernon, not so long as he had the gun, if he could avoid it. “You don’t need a gun to get my clothes off, you know.” Donavan feigned a laugh once again, testing the situation hesitantly. “It’s, uhh…actually more likely to complicate things… Why don’t you put it away and we can work something out?” The suggestion was risky, Donavan feared, but really, something had to be done quickly—Donavan had no intention of being forced into anything.
Algernon was hardly in the mood to be argued with, and cocked his pistol loudly for Donavan to hear. "Don't make this harder than it has to be," he repeated. "I've given you an order. If you choose not to comply... well..." He licked his lips, wiggling his finger against the trigger so that Donavan could see. "You know better than to defy me."
“I’m not—I’m not!” Donavan said quickly, making a show of dropping his untied cravat to the floor and shrugging out of his jacket hurriedly. “I think I could do a better job of giving you what you want if you’d let me know, though, rather than going through all of this. Really, the gun is unnecessary, Algernon.” Donavan managed to say smoothly, in spite of his mounting fear.
At Donavan's continued disobeying, Algernon snapped, and with his free hand, he lashed out, striking Donavan in the head. "This is your last warning," he ground out, regaining a little bit of control and pressing the pistol to Donavan's head again. "Shut up and do as I say."
Donavan hunched forward reflexively at the hit and his hand snapped up to the spot defensively. “Shit,” he groaned, “Come on, Algernon!” Even as he whined, however, he continued undoing the buttons of his vest, hurrying to do as he was told to avoid angering Algernon further. Dropping the vest to the floor once he’d finished, he turned ever so slightly to face Algernon now that he was bare to the waist. “Look,” he said quickly, looking directly into Algernon’s eyes as he reached for the gun, grabbing hold of the barrel and pointing it to the floor. “If sex is what you want, fine. Just tell me. This kind of thing isn’t going to work with me, Algernon—I don’t respond well to threats.”
"And I don't respond well to being disobeyed," Algernon hissed, twisting his hand such that Donavan had to release his hold on the gun. Drawing back, he lashed out again, this time with the pistol, hitting Donavan squarely in the head with a gratifying smacking noise. As Donavan was doubled over with the force of the impact, Algernon kicked him squarely in the back, forcing him to the ground. "It seems you want to do this the hard way... very well," he sneered, firing two warning shots, one on either side of Donavan's head. "How can I break you?"
Donavan cried out at the impact and fell to the ground, shuddering as he pressed his hand to the head wound and felt warm blood in his palm. “Algernon!” Donavan moaned, keeping his eyes on the ground and his hand against his head, “I’ll do it! Whatever you want! Just stop this!”
A smirk crawled across Algernon's features. "That's more like it," he drawled softly, leaning over and taking Donavan's chin in his hand, forcing him to look up at him. "Don't look so sad, now. Just do as I say, and I won't have to hurt you." Digging his fingernails into the side of Donavan's face for a moment longer, he released him, aiming the gun at him again, if a little more offhandedly. "Finish taking off your clothes for me, now, won't you?"
Donavan clenched his jaw and got to his feet, taking his hand from his wound and wiping the blood on his knickers, glaring at Algernon. He looked down at the ground after a moment and began unbuttoning the final article of clothing, kicking off his shoes then slowly stepping out of his knickers. “How’s that?” Donavan demanded, eyeing the gun. “You have me. Do you really need that? Just tell me what else you want and I’ll do it.”
"Now, now," Algernon patronized, "I'll do what I like, and you ought to behave yourself." Looking around the parlour, he motioned to the far wall. "Let's go, up against that wall. We wouldn't want to soil the carpet now, would we?" Waving the gun around, he added, "Hurry up, now, or else I'll have to add some incentive, won't I?"
Perceval leaned forward and refilled Faustino’s cup of tea elegantly before refilling his own as well with equal grace. It wasn’t often that he poured his own tea, but Perceval made it a habit to maintain his good manners for situations like this. He was still in a rage, but he’d managed mostly to get himself under control so as to suffer quietly along with Faustino as they both drank tea and ate biscuits and cookies waiting for Donavan’s return. Perceval refused to return to the palace as long as he knew Donavan was still there, and of course, he might as well keep Faustino company in the interim. Thus, they were on their third pot of fine fragrant tea and their second tray of tea cookies; it was easier to ignore the dull ache of inadequacy with sweets and hollow conversations as distractions.
“I was thinking that I’d like to include the peacocks in my next party’s theme,” Perceval explained to Faustino conversationally. “But I worry that as it will be in autumn, the bird’s coloring won’t go with any season-appropriate colors…” He continued thoughtfully, though he knew Faustino was unlikely to be any more interested in his party plans now than he had been at the beginning of the night when they’d first started to fake their distractive conversations. He let up the shame for a split second to check the time. It was well past midnight now, and he looked back at Faustino, meeting his gaze. “How long do you think this will go on?” Perceval asked plaintively, letting go of the act entirely.
Faustino shifted uncomfortably, shaking his head with a sigh. "I... I don't know," he replied sadly, swallowing and looking at the clock as well. If it wasn't for the caffeine in the tea, he knew he would almost be asleep by now, and he wished desperately the Donavan would return already, even if it was only another reminder of his own inadequacy. "I hope... I hope he's back soon..."
Perceval nodded in agreement and looked down at his own reflection in the cup of tea. Why wasn’t he good enough for Algernon? Why, at a time like this, when Algernon was so obviously upset, didn’t he want Perceval there to comfort him? Perceval almost hoped it was because Algernon believed that he would be insensitive to Algernon’s loss… While it was true that Perceval was glad for Christian’s death, he wished he knew for certain that Algernon would trust him to understand… And, at the same time, Perceval couldn’t believe that that was the only reason for Donavan’s summons. Could it be that Donavan really was better suited to offering Algernon the kind of comfort he needed? Sex was one thing, but if it was anything more…Perceval didn’t think he could take it.
Perceval started, at a sound outside the door and sat up a little straighter immediately, watching the door directly opposite he and Faustino intently. Was it Donavan? He swallowed, pursing his lips in anticipation, trying to brace himself for the possibility that it was not actually Donavan, but one of the servants to collect the trays. The footsteps were slow and heavy, and did not sound like Donavan’s obnoxiously cocky gate at all.
The door did open, however, slowly, and none other than Donavan slumped into the room. He smiled strangely at Faustino, looking almost relieved, though the expression seemed peculiarly ambiguous in the dim light. Instead of moving out of the dark entry and to a sofa, he moved to the side, leaning heavily against the wall by the door. Even in the poor light, Perceval could see that Donavan was an absolute mess; his hair was partially pulled out of the tie that usually held it back, and it was matted oddly on one side. His vest was buttoned lopsided, and aside for the characteristic absence of a blouse, Donavan was also missing a cravat. It was despicable, and Perceval turned away sharply; Donavan’s state of partial undress was a painfully obvious clue as to what he and Algernon had been up to, and Perceval clenched his fists, wondering if Donavan had purposefully gone out of his way to hurt them both by making his activities with Algernon perfectly apparent.
“Oh, Perceval…I didn’t think you’d be here.” Donavan laughed weakly, folding his arms over his chest and dropping his head against the wall. “I hope you’ve been keeping Faustino entertained for me?”
“You look absolutely atrocious.” Perceval snapped tersely. “How dare you show yourself in such a condition!”
“I suppose you’re right.” Donavan agreed, laughing again and sounding, Perceval thought, almost ashamed. “Then again, cousin, hasn’t it occurred to you how pathetic you are? You just couldn’t stand it that Algernon called on me, could you?” Donavan asked bitterly. “You do a pretty good job of covering it all up, but I know you’re an insecure jealous wreck.”
Donavan watched as Perceval sprang to his feet and stood perfectly straight, shaking only slightly as hot angry tears streamed down his face. Donavan smiled coldly, the expression slightly lopsided as his left cheek was bruised and rather swollen, and sucked the cut in his mouth for a moment longer before he continued. “Get over it. I’m nothing to him.” Donavan stated plainly. Perceval stood, mute and trembling for a moment longer before Donavan reached over and opened the door out of the parlor. “I bet he wants to see you now.”
Without another word, Perceval crossed the room in four long strides and paused just long enough to glare at Donavan venomously as he passed through the threshold. Donavan watched as he strode down the hall and out of sight, wondering vaguely whether Perceval had looked long enough to figure out why Donavan wouldn’t have made it as far as a sofa to sit down. The bruise on his cheek wasn’t the only discoloration forming on his skin; they were everywhere—up and down his arms, around his wrists, a few on his legs—not to mention all the cuts and scratches that still seemed to burn all down his back and against his check. His lip was split, and though the blood that had trickled down the side of his face from the blow to his head had long since stopped flowing, it was still warm and sticky against his skin, and his hair was matted all around the wound. The worst of it, though, Perceval wouldn’t have been able to see, not unless he knew what he was looking for. No, that was why Donavan was pressed up against the wall; it was both for support and to conceal the blood that he could feel rolling down the backs of his legs—the only outward sign of the real damage.
Donavan sighed and lifted his hand to his face, not looking at Faustino as he spoke. “I’m sorry to have kept you waiting for so long, Faustino. You shouldn’t have waited up for me…”
Something was wrong, Faustino could tell that, plain as day, but he couldn't figure out what. Rising, he slowly made his way to Donavan's side, peering up at him, and only then could he tell, could he see it all. The bruises, the blood... something bad had obviously happened, and Faustino's heart was suddenly beating out of his chest with worry. "Donavan-- what... what happened?!"
Algernon sighed and ran a hand through his hair, sitting on the edge of the bed, staring out into space. He felt better now... calmer, having taken care of his need to dominate, to cause pain... He would just push the matter from his head now. After all, he had a country to run, and he had Perceval, and that, he knew, ought to be more than enough. Sighing again, he rolled his wrist and stretched his fingers, wishing more strongly than he expected that Perceval was here now. He didn't know when he had left, but he had a feeling it had something to do with Donavan, a fact that sent a twinge of that bad feeling running through him. Now that everything was taken care of, he just wanted to hold Perceval close, to remind himself of what was really important... hopefully, he would return home soon.
Perceval stopped outside the door to the bedroom he and Algernon shared and inhaled slowly, trying to calm himself. He was worried that his eyes would still be red and puffy from crying, but he couldn’t stand to wait any longer to see Algernon. It had been so long…and Perceval was terrified that Algernon still wouldn’t want to see him, in spite of what Donavan said, even now that Algernon had finished with Donavan. Perceval smoothed his knickers and adjusted his jacket, running his fingers through his hair and arranging it on his shoulders as he tried to brace himself for the possibility of another rejection. He had to see Algernon, he couldn’t wait any longer, and though he didn’t know if he could take another moment of being apart, Perceval knew he had to try. He went over himself a final time, perfecting everything and composing a calm and collected face before knocking gently on the door. “Algernon…?” Perceval asked softly, pressing the door open and peering inside. “I’ve just gotten back…” Perceval explained hesitantly, stepping inside.
Algernon looked up when he heard Perceval's voice, and was relieved to see that he had finally returned. Rising, he strode quickly to the door, not hesitating to pull Perceval inside and shove the door shut and draw him into a tight embrace. He had nothing, really, to say, nothing he needed to convey to Perceval besides the need to hold him close, now, and to not let go for a long time.
“A-Algernon,” Perceval stammered, wrapping his arms tightly around Algernon and melting into the embrace. He felt the tears prickle at the corners of his eyes once again and quickly buried his face against Algernon’s shoulder. It felt so good to be in Algernon’s arms like this…even after everything, even in knowing that Algernon and Donavan had been together, whenever Algernon held him like this, Perceval could forget it all… He knew Algernon really did love him. “Don’t let go of me…” Perceval murmured softly.
"Of course," Algernon replied softly, stroking Perceval's hair gently. "Please don't cry, Percy..." Placing a kiss on the top of Perceval's head, he carefully pulled back only slightly so that he could look into his eyes. Directing his energies to making Perceval feel better (especially since it was his fault) was the best way to take his mind off things, and so he offered a small smile, wiping away Perceval's tears with his thumb. "I love you, Percy... so don't cry..."
Perceval closed his eyes and breathed a sigh of relief as Algernon’s words filled him with a feeling of warmth and devotion. Hearing Algernon say that he loved him was enough for Perceval; whatever Algernon had to do for whatever reason, in the end as long as Algernon still loved him, Perceval could and would always find away to endure. “I love you, too, Algernon.” Perceval smiled softly, dabbing carefully at his eyes with the back of his wrist to stop the tears. His smile widened slightly, and Perceval looked back into Algernon’s eyes. It seemed to Perceval that Algernon was back to himself, and surely, now that Christian was gone and Algernon wanted him again, everything would go back to being perfect.
“What happened?” Donavan repeated, laughing with some difficultly as he repeated Faustino’s question. “Well, I’m sure you can imagine…” He trailed, swallowing the blood he’d sucked from the cut in his mouth. He lowered his hand slowly and smiled darkly, the expression lopsided because of the dark bruise. “I suppose Perceval told you why Algernon sent for me.” Donavan shrugged. “He, uhh..wasn’t in a very good mood.”
Faustino was still quite a bit in shock; he couldn't imagine how the Commandant could possibly ever win in a fight against Donavan, but, he told himself, that wasn't really what mattered right now. "Oh, Donavan..." he stuttered, feeling his heart wrench at how miserable Donavan looked. "Can... can you walk? You need to lie down, and I'll... I'll take care of everything and get you cleaned up, so..." Faustino knew he ought to be strong, but he couldn't help it, he felt tears forming in the corners of his eyes, and he sniffed. "... so do you need my help to walk?"
“I made it this far.” Donavan replied, though he made no attempt to move, instead shifting more of his weight against the wall. “I don’t want to trouble you,” he added, sliding slightly to the side against the wall in the direction of the door. Keeping hold of the doorframe, he opened it and stepped out of the room, hesitating a moment and turning back to Faustino. “I can do it, but I’m sure it’d go faster with help…” He gritted his teeth and smiled once again angry at the situation he’d put them both in…he hated being like this in front of Faustino, but he didn’t particularly want to leave him, not now. Donavan didn’t want to be alone, either…
"O-of course!" Faustino replied quickly, hurrying to Donavan's side and letting Donavan put an arm around his shoulders. He could tell Donavan was really upset, besides being injured... but he wouldn't ask now. Right now, what was important was getting Donavan to bed and cleaning him up. "Do... do you think you can make it up the stairs?" he asked carefully, looking up at Donavan, worry playing across his features. "I think it would be best if we got you in bed..."
“Sure. Between you and the banister, I should be able to drag myself up there somehow.” He laughed once more, knowing that every time he faked it, it sounded successively more forced and bitter. As the reached the bottom of the staircase, Donavan sighed and took hold of the banister, transferring the majority of his weight to it from Faustino. “You waited all this time and look at me. I’m a wreck. Sorry to disappoint—you really don’t have to help me. It’s my own fault.”
"No--!" Faustino was surprised at the determination in his own voice, but he didn't change his tone, looking up at Donavan. "I'll always be here to help you, Donavan... you... you don't understand." He could feel the tears coming, now, and he swallowed, but continued nonetheless; this was how he felt and he was going to let Donavan know. "I love you, Donavan... no matter what else... no matter who else there is... I'll always be waiting for you, and I'll always help you and take care of you when you need me... because I love you." He knew that sounded weak and childish... but it was the truth, and so Faustino sniffed and looked down, trying to get Donavan to let him take more of his weight instead of straining himself.
Donavan paused and looked back at Faustino, gently taking his face in his hand and angling his chin up so that he could see his eyes. “Thank you.” Donavan swallowed, a slight twinge of guilt prickling through him as he thought of the many times he had made Faustino wait already…and of the many times he was likely to make Faustino wait in the future. “I love you too…more than anything or anyone else. Ever. Don’t think otherwise.” He leaned forward carefully, keeping his hold on the banister, and placed a kiss on Faustino’s lips.
Faustino smiled softly, pitifully, knowing that nothing was going to change but wishing naively that it would, anyway. Still, he knew that Donavan loved him, and right now, what was important was helping him, so Faustino shouldered his weight and helped him to the top of the stairs and down the hall to the bedroom. Once there, he sighed, struggling the last bit to the bed and leaving Donavan there. "I'll be right back," he promised, running to the bathroom to collect towels in warm water and bandages.
“No rush…” Donavan exhaled, dropping on the bed face down. He laid still for a moment, then carefully pushed himself up on to his elbows, just enough to shrug out of his jacket and drop it off the side of the bed. His vest had only been half-buttoned to begin with, so he worked his way out of it quickly and cast it aside as well, then gave up. He didn’t really want to move…he didn’t really want to burden Faustino with his treatment, either—he didn’t deserve Faustino’s care right now. If he could just sleep it off, he’d probably be better in the morning...
Returning with iodine and damp towels and bandages, Faustino set the things on the nightstand before hurrying to Donavan's side. Donavan had undressed partly, and Faustino was able to see for the first time all the cuts and scratches that ran across Donavan's chest. He inhaled sharply at the sight of the wounds and immediately got to work, cleaning each spot carefully with the iodine before beginning to wrap Donavan up. "I know it hurts... I'm sorry," he responded softly when Donavan gritted his teeth; he knew Donavan would try to hide it, would pretend it didn't hurt when it really did. Tying off the bandange, he sat up on his knees, brushing Donavan's hair out of his face. "It'll be over soon, I'm sorry..."
“You didn’t have to. Those would have just healed. It’s…it’s nothing serious.” Donavan turned away for a moment, briefly wondering why Faustino even bothered. If anything, Donavan had expected to receive a ‘serves you right’ sort of reprimand. He probably deserved it, but it wouldn’t do any good to dwell on it now. Donavan clenched his jaw and took the towel from Faustino, wiping the blood off of his face and dabbing at the gash, hissing through his teeth at the sting. “Thanks…” Donavan said after a moment, taking the towel off the wound and checking to see that it hadn’t started bleeding again. It hadn’t. He set the towel aside and took Faustino’s hand in his, meeting his eyes. “I’m sure that’s enough. I’ll be fine now.” And Donavan was sure he would be ‘fine’ one way or another in time, he just couldn’t stand for Faustino to see how hurt he was…he didn’t want Faustino to have to deal with it.
"Donavan," Faustino replied, trying his best to be stern. "I know you were limping. You must be hurt worse. I want to take care of you and make you feel better, okay?" He knew Donavan hated to look weak, but Faustino was much more concerned with helping him heal, and so he reached for a clean towel. "Please... let me take care of you."
Donavan furrowed his brows and smiled resignedly, giving Faustino’s hand a light squeeze. “I don’t know what you can really do. I can clean myself up, after all.” Donavan forced a laugh and winced as he pulled himself into a sitting position, shifting carefully into the least painful position possible. “You being here makes me feel better…you don’t need to do too much else.” He got to his feet slowly, took another towel, and staggered to the wall, bracing himself as he undid the buttons of his knickers and let them drop to the floor as he began wiping away the blood. “It won’t take longer than a week to heal, I’m sure.” Donavan grimaced.
Faustino's eyes widened when he saw the blood, and, immediately, he was at Donavan's side. Looking up into his eyes plaintively, he couldn't find words for a moment. "Donavan--" he struggled, "Donavan, what did he do to you?! Oh, god, Donavan..." Falling back against the wall, he began to cry again... it was almost as if his own inadequcy had ended in this happening to Donavan... perhaps, somehow, it was his fault. "I'm sorry, Donavan..." he sobbed, "I... I'm sorry..."
“Faustino…” Donavan murmured. “It’s…it’s not your fault.” He knelt with some difficulty and pulled Faustino into his arms. “Don’t cry…I’ll be fine…and please don’t apologize.” Donavan pulled back just enough to kiss Faustino softly on the lips and wipe gently at his tears. Knowing Faustino thought it was his fault made the entire situation even more unbearable. As bad as this was, as despicable as Donavan felt, Faustino still managed to blame himself, and Donavan couldn’t stand it. “It’s all my fault,” Donavan said sternly, “I let things go too far.”
"But... but..." Faustino trembled, "If I... if you didn't... I just... I don't want you to get hurt, Donavan!" Pressing his face into his hands, he continued to cry, wishing somehow, he could just make all of this better, make all the bad things go away. "I want to be able to help... I want to be able to fix things... but... but..." And he was lost to his sobs again, feeling terrible and miserable and completely useless.
“Something like this was bound to happen with Algernon.” Donavan admitted darkly. “There’s nothing that can be done about it now…you just have to trust that I’ll be fine. And I will.” Donavan promised, gently prying Faustino’s hands from his face so that he could look into his eyes. “I have you, after all,” he smiled genuinely. “I know I can trust you… I love you, and as long as I have you, I know I’ll be all right.” Donavan wiped the tears from Faustino’s cheeks once more and managed a grin. “At least now you won’t have to see so much of Perceval? I won’t ever go back there again, you realize. So don’t cry, okay?”
Faustino looked up into Donavan's eyes, trembling for a moment longer before nodding. "O-okay..." he managed, swallowing. He would be strong for Donavan. He had to be. "I love you, Donavan. I'll always be here for you, okay?" His voice was getting stronger now, and he squeezed Donavan's hand. "I'll be stong for you, no matter what."
“I know. You’re the only one I can trust, Faustino…” Donavan pulled Faustino into his arms and held him gently for a moment, sighing. “You’re all I have…and I know you won’t leave me.” He pulled back and met Faustino’s eyes, again managing to smile. “I love you. Thank you for everything you do for me.” Donavan slid his hands down Faustino’s arms and pushed himself back up to a standing position before flopping onto the bed and rolling onto his chest in an effort to get comfortable. “Hey,” Donavan prefaced, reaching over and catching Faustino’s hand once more, “I hope you don’t mind that I’m not letting go of you tonight.”
Faustino smiled warmly, nodding and climbing into bed next to Donavan. "Of course. I told you I'd always be here for you, right?" Pecking Donavan on the cheek sweetly, he laid beside him, not wanting to let go of his hand. "You don't need to thank me. Just sleep well, and feel better in the morning, okay?" He gave Donavan a cute grin before yawning. Now that the trauma was dealt with, it was very late, and, Faustino realized, he was rather sleepy. "Sweet dreams, Donavan."
“With you beside me all night,” Donavan smirked, “I know my dreams will be good ones.” He pressed a kiss to the back of Faustino’s neck playfully and swung his arm over him, pulling him in closer. Donavan wasn’t going to think about anything beyond this one moment; he had Faustino, who would never leave him, he was bandaged and he would heal—he never had to do anything besides business with Algernon from now on, and in fact, it would lessen the strain between Perceval and himself. He could recover, thanks to Faustino. “I love you,” Donavan murmured, “good night.”
Faustino smiled, feeling contented and warm in Donavan's arms. Despite everything, he knew Donavan loved him, and that was what mattered. "Good night," he whispered back, knowing that, in fact, it would be.
