Chapter Text
It was one of the first long nights Nicki and I spent together in a room at the tavern, talking, drinking, having befriended each other, having just found this golden point of drunkenness, where our minds were free enough and our tongues bold enough to speak what was really on our mind.
I had talked about the witch again. The place where he had first seen me, when they had shown us as children, where years ago a woman had been persecuted and burned.
Rage had filled both him and me and after he had given me more and more wine, my mind had slowly grown more tired, my body weak and I was lying on the single-bed of that room now, legs dangling off it's side, shoes kicked off, head propped up against its side.
I was listening to him. His soothing, calm, yet passionate voice telling me about how wrong it all was. People, for any other reason than commiting actual harm, being persecuted.
"If the Church was more open for people, less judgemental of things that do no harm, then maybe less people would fall from belief in these times."
It was always about his church and how he felt misunderstood, how he disagreed with their values and wished they would change. I knew they wouldn't. I hated them for persecuting people for no proper reason. Destroying them. Killing them.
But I felt that it was important to him, to me, in more then one way. I knew, that I feared to be treated like this myself, for the ways I felt, that I could admit to nobody. And it made me angry to no end.
I had not yet mentioned it to him, nor dared to ask him. But after what my mother had told me, after hundreds of little gestures, remarks, looks I had noticed from him, I had come to suspect, that Nicki may be the same as I am.
This. Or very similar at least.
I had made sure nobody would suspect me, constantly flirting with the girls in our village and the fathers feared to leave them alone in my presence, because I was known for my charm, my seductiveness, my boldness.
And yet here he was, giving a speech about how wrong it was for the church, to condemn women for their wisdom and men for loving whomever they may love. Just for me, my ears alone.
I was watching him pace, my eyes half closed, only half listening to what he said.
The remnants of my focus were holding on to his beautiful voice and what it seemed to repeat in secrecy: How beautiful it would be to not have to hide, to be free, to love, limitlessly.
My gaze was trailing over his form, void of his overcoat he looked splendid in his breeches, the knee high boots... and up from there, these firm thighs, his round behind, the loose shirt that he had unbuttoned a bit more than was appropriate to go out with, hiding what I assumed would be quite a cute waist...
My thoughts drifted off to scenarios, where my hands were laying on it, pulling him close until I could feel his warmth, smell his hair...
I startled from the beginning of sleep, after dozing off and mumbled an apology for it.
This happened a couple of times, before he ended up standing still in front of me, watching me, while I was watching him, eyes barely open, almost asleep.
I barely noticed how he walked up to me and bent over me. I only groaned a sleepy response, when he brushed my hair out of my face and sighed: "Looks like you're too tired to make it home tonight, huh? I shouldn't have talked so much."
He sat on the bed beside me, pulling me close, so my head came to rest against his chest, cradled by his arms and my drowsy mind did not mind this, it loved this and where awake and logically thinking me, would have pushed him away with a joke, the tired being I was right now felt so safe and comfortable with him, I fell asleep like this immediately.
The morning came with headache and confusion.
I was lying in a bed, in a room I didn't immediately recognize, lying between the legs and on the chest of a foreign, warm body, a gentle hand in my hair.
At first I was tempted to remain like this. Doze off again.
But then memories came back. A silhouette against the light of the fireplace.
My hands on a body that wasn't soft and female. His face hovering just above mine. The fragrance of his body so close to mine, as he pulled me closer.
I leaped to a kneeling position above him. All kinds of thoughts were flooding my mind.
I wasn't sure what I remembered from last night and what was part of the fantasies I had kept on replaying in my head for weeks now. Had I made any of them real last night?
Nicki beneath me stirred and wrinkled his nose.
"What happened?", I whispered. "Nicki... What happened last night?"
At least I was still dressed. Part of me absolutely believed that I was capable of taking off all my clothes in one drunk night and sleeping with a man I adored more than perhaps was good for me.
"Where's the blanket...?", this man mumbled still in sleep and turned to his side under me.
I had pulled it off both him and me, when I had sat up so suddenly. Quietly I drew it back up over him. It was early spring and still cold at the nights here.
Then I just sat there, on the border of the bed, shivering, my head pounding, my heart and mind confused.
I couldn't go back to my parent's place like this. I couldn't think of a good answer to where I had been or why I would withdraw to my room and sleep through the day, as I definitely badly required and I did not have the energy to face my father or any of my brothers and hear their accusations, their insults and fight with them.
My stomach felt weak at the very thought of stepping out in the bright daylight or being yelled at.
I looked back over my shoulder only to see Nicki fast asleep, his back to me, his legs drawn up slightly.
Something inside of me stopped caring. Wasn't it too late anyhow?
And he had definitely been the one who had come to me, regardless of what had happened.
I sighed and gave in to my heavy, tired head and crawled under the blanket with him, hesitantly allowing my body to lay against his, limb by limb. My chest pushing against his warm back, my legs folding in the same angle as his.
I blushed when I felt his butt against me and did not quite dare to lay my hands on his sides.
And so I crossed them over my chest, awkwardly, until I felt him stir and his hand was reaching back for my arm and pulled it over him until I was hugging him, holding hands with him.
"Just sleep, dumbass", he mumbled and I couldn't help but chuckle.
I couldn't do much to resist this anyways and when I next woke up from something that felt like unconsciousness, it was because he was stirring against me and climbing out of bed over me.
I didn't dare to move just yet, but I heard him, the scraping of something and the tinkling sound of him emptying his bladder in the chamber pot. It was not like we hadn't yet stood next to each other, drunk in the snow, seeing who could aim further, but I wanted to give him some privacy nonetheless.
I snorted at the memory still and he spoke my name.
"Are you awake yet?", he asked and I turned just in time to see him pull up his pants and tie them shut again.
"What has happened last night?", I asked. I was strangely, yet naturally calm, now that he was standing before me, so obviously not angry or awkward or more distant from yesterday.
"We were drunk. There's only one bed", he stated dryly and sat back down next to me.
"Besides. You were staring at me the entire time", he added somewhat quieter and I couldn't help but smile right in his face.
"Seems like you didn't mind that", I said and he looked at me with his serious face for a long moment, studying my eyes. I didn't expect what he did next. I had never expected him to be that straightforward.
But he slowly leaned in and before I could even free my hands from the blanket and reach up, I felt his unshaved chin brush against mine and his lips pressed to my mouth.
My eyes were frozen open for a moment, before they fluttered shut and my fingers found each other in the back of his neck, holding him in place, as I was kissing him back, my tongue boldly pushing into his mouth and finding entry more readily given then I would have guessed.
"You have done this before", I breathed, when he finally backed away from me.
I was wiping my mouth from a very wet and deep kiss.
His face was still disconcertingly calm, when he answered me.
"So have you."
I sat up with my cheeks burning all of a sudden. "Only with girls!", I replied hastily.
His calm face turned into a dark smile. "Well well... Would you look at that. And I had thought you were more experienced."
I was tempted to disagree with that, but I couldn't without being dishonest.
His hand was reaching for my hair again and pushed a golden curl behind my ear.
He leaned in again. "You are very bold, Lestat. I like that", he whispered and his deep, quiet voice gave me goosebumps.
"So you have done more than that? You've kissed men before?", I asked quietly, but curious.
He looked at me, long and deeply. Then he shook his hair in his face and nodded.
"At the university in Paris. How come you haven't?"
I sat up further, feeling upset. "Are you insane? In this dump of a village?! Everybody would know in no time!"
His eyes were on me again and it was almost unsettling.
"So you have thought of it?", he asked and I went red, realizing what I had just admitted.
My hand flew to my mouth. "Nicki!", I breathed. "Nobody can know of this. You don't know what they would do to us..."
I suddenly felt horrified. Reminded of the witch. They'd run us out of the village or beat us to death if they found out...
He laughed without any happiness in his voice.
"So what are you telling me, Lestat? That you don't feel this between us? That you don't want to do this again? Do you want me to stay away from you now?"
He stood up and started pacing again. Like last night, when we had talked about the witch. About the women who shouldn't be in disgrace for their wisdom and the men who shouldn't be in disgrace for their love.
And now I knew for sure what he had been telling me all along; what I had told him.
"No", I whispered and got out of bed, cupping his face in my hands.
"No, I don't want this to stop now..."
My lips were on his before I was thinking about what I was doing.
"I could never stand to miss you from my life again, Nicki. You're the only one who understands the way I see things, the only one who feels the same way..."
His hands were grabbing my wrists now and I was leaning against him so heavily, he stumbled back against the table.
I don't know how it happened, but moments later we collided again, our mouths finding each other, hard kisses, hungry and full of longing and fear of the uncertainty we faced with what we both so obviously felt.
He was grabbing me roughly, pulling me against himself.
His hands were grabbing my shirt, pulling it up, running over the naked skin of my back and I finally tore myself from him, breathless, staring down at him.
I was too proud to admit my anxiety, my insecurity and so I turned, grabbed my coat and my shoes and rushed towards the door.
"See you again tonight, Nicki!", I yelled, before I slammed it shut behind me and leaned against the wall a couple steps later, with a trembling heart in my chest.
I was still trying to process everything that had just happened and suddenly I felt a very ecstatic feeling of joy tingling in my chest. I wanted to cheer and hastily I put on my shoes and coat and ran out of the tavern, towards my father's castle.
Part of me was anxious about how fast and passionate this was going and I knew, I had to keep some distance, because I was too proud to admit when things would move too fast.
And I needed to learn more about what this meant, what more he could want of me and moreover what I felt I wanted.
Nothing made much sense to me in this moment and my head was mostly spinning with happiness and excitement over what had just happened.