The True Mate

CHAPTER EIGHT:

There was something awful, something almost threatening prodding into Minori’s dreamless sleep. He felt sick, he felt frightened, most of all, he felt something wrong in the one sleeping beside him. Then a sound that jolted him awake, Tristan’s voice calling out in frustrated pain.

Blinking his eyes as they were assaulted by the dim, yet to sleepy eyes, lamp light, Minori saw his lover laying still, his expression contorted in anger and sadness. It must be some sort of dream; he thought and reached a slender hand out to smooth Tristan’s hair from his eyes.

“Tristan,” He called softly. When his lover didn’t respond, he called out to him again, gently shaking his shoulder. Still nothing. He tried a kiss and nearly leapt back as if he’d been burned. Tristan was… cold and he couldn’t feel him! He remembered the way he’d felt being touched internally in some mysterious way by his lover, a way he couldn’t explain but knew was there that was now gone and tried to tap into it. For several moments he tried and tried and nothing came of it.

A wave of immense loneliness combined with emptiness crashed over him. “Tristan!” He shouted and didn’t spare his lover any comfort as he shook him desperately. “TRISTAN WAKE UP! Don’t leave me, Not now!”

‘He’s not dead, he’s not, he’s not!’ His mind chanted. “Tristan Wake up, you promised never to leave me! I let you in now don’t leave me, Please!”

‘He’s so cold.’ Minori looked around for something… their kimono. Almost afraid to take his eyes from his lover, Minori snatched both his and Tristan’s kimono from the floor and bed, covering his lover, trying to think of something else to get him warm again, trying to figure out what was going on, and how this could have happened.

‘Did I drink too much from him?’ he wondered and gasped. Blood. He’d been terribly cold once too and Tristan had given him blood. Blood, that red liquid seemed to be the center of their existence, their connection. If he gave Tristan his, perhaps he’d awaken because he absolutely wasn’t gone. Minori wouldn’t let him be.

Wasting no time, Minori bit his wrist, whimpering as it took a moment for his fangs to come. He bit hard and deep sucking a little to get it flowing. Then he placed his wrist over his lover’s lips, gently opening his mouth. “Please, wake up. I’m here, you may have it all, just don’t die. Please, Tristan?”

Something familiar, something warm... he was alone still. But... alone? Where was Victoria? She was dead. So, logically, he was alone. Then why did he taste sweet blood? Trying to open his eyes but not succeeding, he tried to move his tongue. It stretched forward and felt a pulse.

‘How beautiful... I know this pulse. I love the creature wherein this pulse resides. I love him.’ This thought urged him to press his lips to the warm and sticky skin. Energy coursed through him, warding off the previous paralysis.

‘I taste him.’ And he recalled, as if it was from a dream, the poem he had used in his verbal presentation when he first applied to his University. ‘How strange to think of that now.’

Suddenly craving more and more of the beautiful substance, his teeth grew downward and he lifted his head to impale the generous creature fully. As he swallowed mouthful after mouthful, his body returned to a semblance of warmth and only then did he realize how cold he had just been. It seemed like he was on the cusp of death and then mercifully brought back. But brought back for what purpose? Who would be so loving? Who would offer their blood so willingly?

He opened his eyes and knew he would see Minori. Still supping at that delicate wrist, he paused and smiled, trembling.

“I knew you... wouldn’t let me go.” He reached up and caressed the panicked face. “Minori...” he said and relished the sound of his mate’s name, then returned to the warm liquid offering, supping in desperation to banish the dream. Finally letting go of the wrist, before even licking the blood from his lips, he pulled Minori down into a deep embrace.

“I thought I was doing to die.” He whispered in a shaky voice. He breathed in deeply and smelled his lover, the odor of cleaning supplies, incense, fresh and old blood, sweat, and the distinct aroma of nightfall.

It was a sin, so to speak, to lay in bed when the sun was sleeping, for the Vampires’ reign was brief and only foolish vampires squandered it with slumber. But Tristan felt very foolish indeed. Fear seized him; fear of someone who was dead and could not damage him anymore. Yet, clearly the mere memory of her, like a ghostly apparition, was enough to sink him deep within her thrall, dangerously deep.

He shuddered and clutched at the soft and warm skin. He noticed the robes laid across him, he smelled Minori’s worry and fear. “I’m so sorry, to worry you, my love. But you don’t have to worry any more. I choose you. Forever.”

Finally relaxing his embrace, he let his hands still shaking fall on either side of Minori’s face, guiding him downward and into a kiss. Almost roughly he claimed Minori’s mouth. So hungry for his sweet kiss, Tristan’s tongue slid all over Minori’s inner cheeks and then along the freshly grown teeth. ‘Is he feeling my long teeth as well? This is our first kiss with fangs extended... I wonder if this makes him nervous.‘ Intrigued by the sharpness of baby fangs, he pressed his tongue upward forcefully until the tip pierced him. With the arrival of blood into their kiss, he grew even more alarmed and desperate to hold his lover, to drive away the darkness that had suffocated him... and that voice, that siren song.

Finally pulling out of the kiss he looked up at his mate with worried eyes. “Minori, do I please you?”

Relieved that his lover was awake, responding, and drinking from him, Minori watched him carefully. He didn’t understand what all of this meant and had a terrible feeling it was his fault. Still he listened to his lover’s words carefully as they filled him with confusion. He returned Tristan’s kiss, felt his fangs, felt his tongue and tasted his lover’s blood in his mouth. Then he heard something that stuck his heart. The worry and insecurity in his lover’s eyes was heart breaking.

Minori was worried, so much so he wanted to be sick again and his heart held a terrible ache. Still he smiled despite the blow he felt. “You more than please me; you’re my best friend in the whole world, my dearest friend. You’re the only I want to spend the rest of my life with, the only person I need.” He kissed Tristan then for a long moment.

“I will tell you something I never want you to forget. When I was little, I locked myself away so no one could touch me, no one could hurt me. I never let anyone in or let them find a way in. Until you. Tristan I’m terrified of being hurt, terrified of being abandoned but I am risking it all for you, I am laying my heart in your hands, and I have faith that none of my fears will ever come true with you.

“It is me who should be asking that question. I’m nothing compared to you, just a common child, a geisha and a prostitute. There is nothing great about me but you see more than I see in myself. You look at me and I feel special and warm. It scares me that I might disappoint you but I will try my best to make you happy, to be everything you want me to be or need me to be.”

Did he dare say it? It was true, this much, but he wanted it to be special, perfect for Tristan, not… he knew now for certain. He did, he really did. “I’m falling in love with you,” He said and it felt real and honest and a great weight lifted from his chest; he felt the butterflies steadily returning, tickling him. “I’m falling so fast I feel as if the landing might kill me but I would die so happy and without regret.”

Smiling, rested his forehead against his lovers. “I don’t understand what happened to you a moment ago… Did you have a nightmare or did I drink too much from you?” He would wait to tell him how much he loved him when the special time came, the time he would begin making plans for.

He swallowed loudly. Victoria’s words were hollow in his mind, completely replaced now by words of acceptance that made him feel... complete. Once he’d heard the words ‘love’ and ‘you’ a strange instinct arose in him. His breathing increased and his teeth, already extended, began to burn, almost like the night he changed Minori into one of the immortal. Filled to the brim with immediate need, a need unlike he’d ever felt, a strange need driving him to strange behavior, he rose suddenly and gripped Minori’s shoulders.

Ignoring Minori’s question about the dream, or nightmare rather, he pressed his mate face down to the futon, roughly but with no intention of harm. Kneeling, like someone about to pray, over that soft body which was barely illuminated in the nightly glow from street lanterns peeking through the curtains, Tristan sent silent homage to whatever deity listened to the woes and wants of Vampires, then descended to claim his lover in the tradition of the ancient ones.

Gently sweeping Minori’s hair away from his shoulders and back, he pressed his mouth down, fangs completely on fire, and bit deeply into the back of Minori’s neck. Though his fangs inserted deeply, he did not draw out any blood. He had already supped, and this act was not about feeding.

Keeping his mouth in place, Tristan laid his hands on Minori’s back and head, forcing him to lay still. Though it might have looked rather like lions in the Serengeti vying for dominance, for Tristan this wasn’t about breaking wills... this was about breaking barriers. Any time Minori tried to move, he pressed harder and bit deeper with his mouth, pinning him by the nape, like a lioness seeking to carry a kitten. His eyes, he knew, must have turned... for the room appeared in unprecedented clarity, and the smell of his lover’s hair excited him as if he’d never smelled anything before in his life. Everything was so clear... everything except Minori’s thoughts.

‘Minori... I will not let you go until I am satisfied... and there is only one way now, to do so.’ He spoke with his mind, hoping against hope that Minori would sense it. But only confused emotions surfaced, and presently, he felt drool trailing out around his lips. ‘I am claiming you. With God, the Devil, and all manner of divine beings as my witness, I am claiming you. Hear me, Minori. Please hear me.’ Suddenly a deep purr rose in his throat, louder and more aggressive than any that had surfaced thus far. It’s rumble filled his ears and faded out all sound from the world around them. All that was left to them now, was their connection, which Tristan sought to complete this very night.

‘You say that you lay your heart in my hands... I will treasure it as if it were my own, and in return I lay my own in your sweet fingers. It’s only fair, love, to return that which is given.’ The hand holding Minori’s head, began to gently caress the scalp, wiggling its fingers into the hair and combing it softly down toward the bed. ‘You say you will try your best to make me happy and to be what I need and want you to be... I tell you that you’ve already given me happiness beyond compare, and all I crave in return, is permission to adore you and give you the pleasure of my company, my body, my eternal soul.’ With his mouth still pressed widely to Minori’s neck, he began a soft motion with his tongue, sweeping it all over the salty skin, tickling in a way, urging the body below it to open itself. ‘You say you are falling in love with me... then I promise, my darling Minori, that before you hit the ground, I will catch you.’

The purring grew softer then, and sweeter, like the time after he first tasted Minori’s seed, or the time in public, when he sought to investigate his lovers body during a meal. But while the purring may have softened, the insertion of his fangs intensified. ‘I love you Minori. I love everything you are.’

At first Minori was under the deep impression he’d done or said something horribly wrong and displeased his love to have his face pressed into the bed. It was a submissive position, he knew it well, and for a moment his paranoia and fear escalated through the roof and into the heaven. He could remember the name of those who’d done this to him, he could remember so vividly the one who’d rubbed his face in the mud and spat on him then beat him in as a child before his friends.

However there was something different in the way Tristan held him so that kept him from panicking and fighting too much. It was gentle and not meant to hurt, not violent or demeaning. Still it made him nervous, still he struggled a bit on pure self preservative instinct.

He felt his lover’s hands in his hair, on his back more to keep him still, and then he felt his fangs biting into the back of his neck. He struggled a bit with this as well, fighting more within himself than physically.

Somewhere amidst all of this he felt Tristan touching him again, touching him mentally. He wanted to ask him to stop but before he could he felt purpose emanating from him. Relaxing him self and hearing Tristan’s purr rumbling through his chest helped to calm him a little.

Words… he felt words again meaning Tristan was connected to him once more. The empty feeling dissipated quickly and with a smile upon his lips, his heart leaping into his head, Minori listened. It was difficult since he didn’t know exactly how it had happened before or how to go about opening himself up, but he tried.

Catching a half word or a whole here or there, Minori focused himself, closing his eyes, releasing what ever tension and apprehension that had unconsciously held him back. More than anything else he felt the emotion behind the words and once he’d said good bye to hesitation, he latched on and clung to it. It was only then that he heard Tristan’s wonderful voice inside his head again and he heard more clearly than ever previously: ‘…before you hit the ground, I will catch you…’

A bubbling mixture of deep and yet very light emotions welled inside Minori’s heart. He felt light headed, no, his whole body felt tingly and light as a feather. His head buzzed, his heart skipped a beat, fluttering wildly inside his chest, the butterflies tickled his stomach so excitedly he almost giggled. He could feel this invisible connection growing stronger.

Then he heard: ‘I love you Minori. I love everything you are.’ And nearly exploded with happiness.

‘I can hear you! I can hear you!’ he willed his excited, giddy thoughts toward his lover, his Tristan. ‘Can you hear me? What do I do? Teach me; oh please teach me how to hear you always. Teach me to speak to you like this, teach me to be closer to you. Teach me to drive out the emptiness and fill it with you.’

His lover’s voice filled him so thoroughly that he thought for a fleeting moment he might swoon. ‘Minori…’ he would have cried were his fangs retracted, he would have melted into a pathetic mass at Minori’s feet sobbing and worshipping him. ‘You’ve found your way… you’re really here… within me.’

His bite loosened, but he did not pull away, he did not dare! Not now when Minori’s voice was so clear to him. Unlike the tiny glimpse of true connection they had shared earlier, this was so vivid it was almost painful. ‘I feel you, my love. I want to teach you… I want to guide you… I wish… I wish I knew how!’ His back trembled and his hand lightly clasped the spun silk of Minori’s hair.

‘This is new for me as well, and I’m so afraid. Is this even real? Oh, Minori, I I’ve never been so naked to anyone… and I worry that if I let go of you, I’ll lose you forever.’ His fangs grew warm again, then hot, and finally the searing pain shot through his body and he dreaded to think of the torment he was causing his most precious Minori by persisting in this contact any longer.

‘I don’t want to release you… but nor would I hurt you.’ Beginning to shake fiercely, fighting his instinct to cling, to sink his teeth ever deeper, his fangs retracted like the quick mechanism of a gun and his body fell limply onto the bed. Barely breathing, he turned his face to gaze at his lover. ‘Did I lose you? Or are we truly as one?’ He asked with his eyes, and reached a hand forward to return his loving caress to Minori’s hair and face.

Minori winced as he felt a burning sensation in his neck but he didn’t dare pull away. He heard EVERYTHING Tristan was saying and felt his presence inside and out. He was so terribly giddy he started to giggle and he was sure he was grinning like a loon. He’d never ever been joined to another so closely not even his own mother when she’d been alive, it was indescribable.

As Tristan pulled away and fell to the bed and touched his face, he had a thought and sent it to his love. ‘Well, we know it’s there, we’ll just practice until it’s perfect!’ He hoped Tristan had heard him, hope the connection wasn’t gone, he could still feel it, was open to it, even imagined it in his mind.

Still grinning, he sat up then quite literally pounced upon his lover, hugging him tightly, laughing, and he was so excited he forgot to translate all his words into English. “Did you hear me just a moment ago?! We’ll practice and practice over and over again until it’s perfect! I can’t believe he really spoke to each other without using our mouths! It’s unnatural but so amazing!? Is it limited to just you and me or will be able to sense and talk to those like us too?! Are there many like us?! Will we see them?! Tristan I feel so happy!...”

He trailed off with a slight frown. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Pinned beneath his lover, Tristan was completely caught up in Minori’s excitement. Too entranced with the continued connection, the exasperated and childlike tones flowing from the mouth of his Japanese Flower, he forgot to smile back in his own pleasure.

‘Minori… your mouth makes such pretty shapes when you speak Japanese.’ He let the small thought slip from him, and hoped it was mild enough not to interrupt. Then he gasped softly, ‘Japanese?! Minori… you’re not speaking English… yet…’ He gazed blankly at the adorable face, beaming in the height of emotion, for even though Minori spoke his native tongue, Tristan found that he could understand every word. He supposed it was possible that strong enough connections could provide translation, but he had never heard of such a thing.

Wondering suddenly if this worked both ways, he smiled slyly and cupped his hands around Minori’s face pulling him close enough that their noses actually touched.

Speaking in German, his accent perfected from years of practice in the language lab of his secondary school, he proceeded to tell Minori, “Mein kleine bloomim, bist du spurren mir? Alles Ich spurren fur dich? Bist du verstehen meine worden?”

Minori blushed, feeling his face fill the heat of the action. “Yes, I understand you.” He frowned cocking his head to the side. How strange, he’d understood his lover’s words but they had sounded so different, different from English, harsher but very beautiful and… seductive to his ears.

Blushing deeper, he lay his head down. “You always sound so good. Will you teach me that language?” suddenly he lifted his head with slight wide-eyed confusion. “How did I know that? Does this mean you understand me when I speak Japanese now?” Before he let his lover respond he sighed dramatically and rolled off him to curl up beside him. “Oh no, now I can’t say naughty things without you knowing them; takes some of the fun out of it.” But he grinned up at Tristan to show his teasing.

"Naughty things?" Tristan said and craned his head downward to examine that porcelain face, still flushed from excitement, and even more beautiful, unbelievably so, with the affirmation of their connection. In fact, it wasn't as if he was looking at Minori so much as looking 'into' Minori. "I don't know... of naughty things." He blushed and glanced downward between them.

'All I know of, are the things we've done... in love making. And other than pleasing each other with our mouths, I wouldn't consider anything we've done to be naughty. And I haven't heard you say anything... truly naughty.' He smiled at his lover, knowing that Minori meant this as a joke, but he couldn't help but be curious. 'When we first arrived in this room... you teased me horrible... and so sensually... telling me to be still while you engaged in self pleasure.' He grinned and finally spoke aloud, "I would enjoy, if you were willing to teach me... to learn of... naughty things. And I, in turn will teach you the only other language I know."

Minori perked an eyebrow with a smirk. He heard Tristan’s mental voice in his head still. It made him happy, filled him with a sense of belonging he’d never had. And he knew many naughty things and not all of them were as nice as earlier.

“Naughty things I can teach for language lessons.” He agreed and sniffed the air. It smelled of night time things and he wondered where the day had gone. “But I can teach you other things as well. For now, we should go to the bath house and I need to get my mother some flowers before we visit her.” With that said he lifted his torso up enough to kiss Tristan’s lips.

‘You should know the bath house is public and you must behave. I won’t be so nice this time if you don’t.’ he smiled then and rose from the bed, lifting his kimono from Tristan’s beautiful body.

With his head reeling at the thought of future 'naughtiness,' as well as the chance to become a teacher once again, a role he had filled often with his sister and fellow students, he quickly pulled on his robe... or 'kimono' he sensed that this was its proper name. He sensed many things now, after the intense heat of their connection, that he was never aware of before.

'Minori... are the baths really public?' He found himself thinking suddenly. 'I'm not... I mean... I've never been to a public bath and I'm... shy.' Heat crept across his face as he admitted this mentally to his lover. Even in college, when changing clothes for team recreation, which was his least favorite activity as it was, he would seek privacy behind a moth eaten curtain, rather than stand exposed before boys who where larger than him in body bulk... though, he had noticed much to his surprise at the time, they were not bigger than him in other areas.

Tying the kimono around him, he realized that, despite being Vampires, they retained the trait of human aroma and thus smelled of the stale residue of sex and death. It seemed the baths were a logical destination, but Tristan lowered his eyes to the floor, not sure if he was ready to fully share the image of his body, with anyone besides his beloved Minori, who had not only seen him naked, but vulnerable as well.

"I'm sorry, for fussing about it. My insecurities keep me from abiding by the beautiful ways of your culture. I must be very frustrating to you." He spoke and bent down to the floor, picking up his glasses which had somehow survived the chaos of the mornings' activities. Placing them on his face he turned to look at Minori. "I will try harder... I promise."

Minori felt a strong hint of protective possessiveness rise within him but he smirked, coming to properly tie Tristan’s kimono for him. “They are public but only men in this one. No one will bother us, they’re there to bathe and go home mostly. Don’t fret about cultural differences; you haven’t been here long enough for anyone to hold it against you. It’s just a bath.”

Smoothing his hands down his lover’s chest, he winked. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep you safe.”

Backing away he bent down to gather his bundle and held out his hand for Tristan to follow. “Where shall we go after we visit my mother?”

Tristan didn't answer right away, but he sent images, mostly by accident, of a small town in Cornwall, twisty streets that seemed unbearably cluttered when more than three horse carts littered them, and large patches of vegetables and legumes growing in almost perfect squares.

'Newquey. I... want to go home.' As he thought this, he felt like a small child, running through the market place on Sunday morning, crying for his mother and finally seeking refuge behind a cart full of turnips. "You are visiting your mother, Minori. You are a good son. But I've been away for quite some time... I've been afraid to visit her."

Walking toward the door, wearing the sandals again, but this time finding them much less off-setting, he waited for his love to move beside him. Even with such a strong mental connection to link them, he dreaded any physical separation from Minori; even the short distance of the room was too much. "It's time for me to return to Cornwall, I think. But only if you will accompany me."

Minori slipped his hand around Tristan’s and opened the door, leading them from the room. He had seen the images, heard the yearning to be home in his love’s thoughts. Sometimes he missed his home with his mother, the small hut upon the side of a hill overlooking the sea. Yellow flowers had grown there and he and his mother used to take walks along the shore in the evenings if the weather and tide permitted. She used to sing to him as they sat beside the hut and look at the stars in the sky.

It had been perfect; just the two of them without a care in the world, happy just to be as they were. He’d never been able to call anywhere else home, not even The Dancing Fountain. But he’d said goodbye and made his peace with leaving such a beautiful place.

As he led the way from the inn, he smiled. “I would very much like to see your home very much. I’ve never been off this island but I used to dream of far away places. My mother will not mind my leaving. She will be happy for us, excited. She used to tell me about the places my father took her before they came to live here. My father was from Edo, my mother Nagoya. He took her to a shrine in Kyoto with many many tori gates and statues of Kitsune. She said it was one of the most beautiful places she’d ever been.”

Minori shrugged as they reached the bath house down the road. “Come; tell me about your home while we bathe.”