Mikael Pacioli
folder
Original - Misc › -Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
17
Views:
19,570
Reviews:
109
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
2
Category:
Original - Misc › -Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
17
Views:
19,570
Reviews:
109
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
2
Disclaimer:
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
June 13: Saint Anthony of Padua
June 13: Saint Anthony of Padua.
"Mikael!" Niccolo cried and sat up in alarm as soon as he took one look at his roommate’s face,"What's the matter?”
Mikael shook his head and headed straight for their shared bathroom instead of answering. Nick abandoned the magazine he'd been reading to follow him.
"Come on, Mikael - talk to me, bello - what's wrong?"
Mikael went into the clean, cool room and felt insantly better. He put the plug into the white basin and watch it fill with hot water. Still waiting for an answer, Nick hovered anxiously at his shoulder.
"Did someone say something to you? Did someone hurt you? What happened?!"
Mikael splashed water over his face and breathed in the steam for a few seconds. The water felt like a purification; a little baptism to wash away a day of sin. In the watery image of himself in the sink, Mikael promised to regain his composure.
By the time he spoke, Nick was about ready to burst with anxiety. The truth felt too intimate; too private. So Mikael picked a half-truth to show instead.
"Horace.” was all he said, and Niccolo’s face grew dark.
“Again?”
Mikael shrugged, then splashed more water on his face, hastily, to cover the fact that he was still crying.
Nick put a comforting hand on Mikael’s back.
“Come on. Don’t worry about him. He’s just an asshole, that’s all.”
Mikael reached for a cloth and dipped it in the water; in the reflection, his hands trembled. Nick’s brow furrowed. “He’s just trying to intimidate you.”
“Well, it works.”
Niccolo made a dismissive sound.
“You just have to get past it. Don’t listen to them.”
Absurdly, it was this statement which enraged him the most of all. In the blink of an eye, before Mikael could even so much as grasp hold of his rage, let alone bring it to heel, he had spun on Niccolo with fire in his heart and on his tongue.
“You fucking jackal, what gives you the right?!”
Niccolo stood back in shock.
“Mikael, I wasn’t - “
“Don’t listen to them?! Don’t listen to them?! Do you think I have a fucking choice? I listen to them just like I listen to Blake and Sef and Andy and you!” the distraught carrier bellowed, “Yes, you son of a bitch, I listen to all of you! I hear you talk to them; I hear the jokes you make with Blake. I hear every damned thing you say. So fuck your advice, and fuck your help. Thank you, but I don’t want it.”
Nick was still staring after him in startled horror when Mikael left, slamming the door to their room.
~:~
Dee found him later, in the library.
“Hey, Foxy.” he said, softly, peeking around the corner to the familiar spot where Mikael liked to spend his evenings. The expected stacks of books were piled around the plush armchair in which the young monk usually sat, and the tall reading lamp was lit, providing a sliver of light against the darkness outside of the windows. Mikael looked up and gave his friend a wan smile.
“Hey.”
Dee sighed and came forward, waiting a few moments before explaining himself.
“Blake sent me. You know that, right?”
This stung Mikael, because if he had been at St. Xavier’s, George would have come looking for him all on his own; without prompting or provocation.
“Oh.”
“You missed dinner, buddy.”
Mikael shrugged and turned back to his reading.
“Wasn’t hungry.”
Dee’s eyes widened and he sighed heavily, then came forward and sat down heavily on the fat leather ottoman that Mikael had pushed to the side.
“Doesn’t work like that. And you know it. What’s going on?”
Mikael shook his head; the loose braid that Nick had tied for him just that morning came loose on one side and scattered his hair.
“Nothing. Had a bad day. Wanted to read instead.”
“What about your meds?”
“Don’t need ‘em.” Mikael answered, stubbornly. “Just needed to read for a while.”
Dee sat silently for a while, then spoke up.
“They’re looking for you, Mikael.” he said, and his voice had a tone of sadness in it. “And they’re angry.”
A chill ran over Mikael’s skin, because there was something in the room just then - something prescient and frightening and darkly stated. He looked into his friend’s eyes, and the feeling intensified.
“Who’s looking for me?”
Dee squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, then opened them and looked sympathetically at Mikael.
“The rehabilitators.”
~:~
"Mikael!" Niccolo cried and sat up in alarm as soon as he took one look at his roommate’s face,"What's the matter?”
Mikael shook his head and headed straight for their shared bathroom instead of answering. Nick abandoned the magazine he'd been reading to follow him.
"Come on, Mikael - talk to me, bello - what's wrong?"
Mikael went into the clean, cool room and felt insantly better. He put the plug into the white basin and watch it fill with hot water. Still waiting for an answer, Nick hovered anxiously at his shoulder.
"Did someone say something to you? Did someone hurt you? What happened?!"
Mikael splashed water over his face and breathed in the steam for a few seconds. The water felt like a purification; a little baptism to wash away a day of sin. In the watery image of himself in the sink, Mikael promised to regain his composure.
By the time he spoke, Nick was about ready to burst with anxiety. The truth felt too intimate; too private. So Mikael picked a half-truth to show instead.
"Horace.” was all he said, and Niccolo’s face grew dark.
“Again?”
Mikael shrugged, then splashed more water on his face, hastily, to cover the fact that he was still crying.
Nick put a comforting hand on Mikael’s back.
“Come on. Don’t worry about him. He’s just an asshole, that’s all.”
Mikael reached for a cloth and dipped it in the water; in the reflection, his hands trembled. Nick’s brow furrowed. “He’s just trying to intimidate you.”
“Well, it works.”
Niccolo made a dismissive sound.
“You just have to get past it. Don’t listen to them.”
Absurdly, it was this statement which enraged him the most of all. In the blink of an eye, before Mikael could even so much as grasp hold of his rage, let alone bring it to heel, he had spun on Niccolo with fire in his heart and on his tongue.
“You fucking jackal, what gives you the right?!”
Niccolo stood back in shock.
“Mikael, I wasn’t - “
“Don’t listen to them?! Don’t listen to them?! Do you think I have a fucking choice? I listen to them just like I listen to Blake and Sef and Andy and you!” the distraught carrier bellowed, “Yes, you son of a bitch, I listen to all of you! I hear you talk to them; I hear the jokes you make with Blake. I hear every damned thing you say. So fuck your advice, and fuck your help. Thank you, but I don’t want it.”
Nick was still staring after him in startled horror when Mikael left, slamming the door to their room.
~:~
Dee found him later, in the library.
“Hey, Foxy.” he said, softly, peeking around the corner to the familiar spot where Mikael liked to spend his evenings. The expected stacks of books were piled around the plush armchair in which the young monk usually sat, and the tall reading lamp was lit, providing a sliver of light against the darkness outside of the windows. Mikael looked up and gave his friend a wan smile.
“Hey.”
Dee sighed and came forward, waiting a few moments before explaining himself.
“Blake sent me. You know that, right?”
This stung Mikael, because if he had been at St. Xavier’s, George would have come looking for him all on his own; without prompting or provocation.
“Oh.”
“You missed dinner, buddy.”
Mikael shrugged and turned back to his reading.
“Wasn’t hungry.”
Dee’s eyes widened and he sighed heavily, then came forward and sat down heavily on the fat leather ottoman that Mikael had pushed to the side.
“Doesn’t work like that. And you know it. What’s going on?”
Mikael shook his head; the loose braid that Nick had tied for him just that morning came loose on one side and scattered his hair.
“Nothing. Had a bad day. Wanted to read instead.”
“What about your meds?”
“Don’t need ‘em.” Mikael answered, stubbornly. “Just needed to read for a while.”
Dee sat silently for a while, then spoke up.
“They’re looking for you, Mikael.” he said, and his voice had a tone of sadness in it. “And they’re angry.”
A chill ran over Mikael’s skin, because there was something in the room just then - something prescient and frightening and darkly stated. He looked into his friend’s eyes, and the feeling intensified.
“Who’s looking for me?”
Dee squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, then opened them and looked sympathetically at Mikael.
“The rehabilitators.”
~:~