Was there to be any aspect of this strange, strange encounter that went according to some sane, predictable path? Apparently not, for as Novus’ mouth closed over those sweet lips, Ninus did but kiss him back the very briefest moment, before those lips were fled and that face was tucked against his chest. Novus, disappointed and puzzled, waited, breath inheld, wondering if this was a moment of shyness, for Ninus had stated that he was wholly unaccustomed to a man’s touch, virginal, in fact. But within the space of two heartbeats, Ninus began to weep, and Novus was taken aback, ready to pull them apart and question what was amiss. But the soft way in which Ninus seemed to literally melt against him, stayed his body from movement, and instead, in the next instant he was cradling the poisoner to him, not unlike a loving parent and a wounded child. How fortuitous it was that Novus, so intent he had been on Ninus’ eyes and face and lips, a few moments before, had no knowledge whatsoever that this supposed gentle creature had brandished a syringe full of what Novus had even a few seonds before feared – a fatal dose of Ninus’ own making. There was no hesitancy, now, as Novus slipped his arms about Ninus as he cried against the Sym’s pale skin. Ninus responded in kind, clinging to his newfound companion and releasing the floodgates of a lifetime of pain.
And how those tears did flow. Though Ninus gave no tongue to the reasons why he wept, Novus had some inkling that the man was simply overcome. He’d given a brief outline of his experiences at the hands of others, and it was bleak, and had crafted an image of the poisoner for himself that was full of black loathing. Though it might seem counter intuitive, his reaction to that one simple kiss, and Novus’ clear acceptance of who and what he was, must have been some boiling mix of confused emotions. Novus, being quite the loner himself, and having been the recipient of a lifetime’s worth of scorn and antipathy, and no few physical rebuffs simply for existing in a city and a culture that had no use for him, had some empathy for how Ninus felt. So he was content to simply hold his friend, and in so doing, there was kindled in his own heart a tiny spark of a connection that he’d not felt for a very long time. In his own sexual trysts, he’d tried very hard to keep them at just that level, sexual and nothing more. That first time, with the merchant’s son, had schooled his heart to caution and defensiveness. Each and every boy or man he’d ever been intimate with had, sooner or later, left Kalinor. He hadn’t been entirely successful in closeting away all emotional entanglements. There had been a few that he just couldn’t help feel more for than he should have. But he’d always kept silent about such things and never let on to his partner what lay in his heart, and simply grieved, alone, when they were gone. But as he held Ninus, letting the man cry out his grief and unlooked for acceptance, it occurred to Novus that now, things were different. His plans were uncertain, but there was no hurry to go…anywhere. He could remain here, in Syliras, whether he found his dad or not. He could put down roots, and if he found someone that touched him, well…there might not be the need to say good-bye.
And so his thoughts revolved, around and around upon themselves, his arms providing a shelter for Ninus’ display of raw emotion, his hands gently tracing comforting patterns lightly over the scarred skin of his back. Finally, the tears ceased to flow, and Ninus rested quiet in his arms, near trembling with being so drained. Novus’ chin was now resting lightly against the side of Ninus’ head, so when the man spoke, though in low tones and against Novus’ chest, he could hear the words quite clearly. Novus tightened his embrace, hugging Ninus in affirmation, and when Ninus tiled his face upwards, Novus placed a reciprocating kiss on his forehead.
“And now be done with weeping, if you can, for the time has come for joy and not sadness, Ninus. All who live should be well aware that life is like a wheel, and though we may be under its weight for long seasons, eventually, it will turn. Come….” Novus pulled back just a bit the better to see Ninus’ face and then he turned his own to regard the bed. “You have cried yourself to exhaustion, I’ll warrant. Let’s go to bed, and you can direct me in so far as how you’d have the rest of this blessed evening go.”
Putting words into action, Novus stepped to the bed, pulling Ninus gently along by his hand, and he sat down, patting the spot beside him and looking at Ninus with one eyebrow lifted, as much to say, “Yes? Or no?”
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by Ninus Aurellius on June 29th, 2013, 1:23 pm 