Vestige

Chapter Nine



The way those dark eyes followed him around the room prompted Caleb to question the owner pointedly. Which caused Felix to shrug his shoulders and tilt his head in that adorably infuriating way he had of doing. “Nothing, hermoso, I was just thinking, you look much better this morning. You’ve been sleeping better.”



Caleb’s stance relaxed, and he offered his lover a smile that was almost shy. It was true, the visions and nightmares had lessened. He had experienced a few over the course of the past week, but none that had amounted to much more than loose fragmented images. Nothing like the explicit vision that had sent him on his back during their vacation. Nothing like the horrifying nightmare that had first sent him into such a deep, unproductive depression. He could still see Felix’s body falling limp, blood pouring from his mouth and eyes. Caleb thought that he would rather experience the visions than ever bear witness to such a terrible nightmare again.



He pushed it from his mind. After all, there Felix sat, in the sunlight, with his eyes perfectly bright and cheerful and his smile wonderfully radiant. There was nothing supernatural about the sensation that filled Caleb when looking at him on that particular morning. The feelings were primal and perfectly natural. He wandered over and kissed his mouth, with very little gentleness.



“When will you be home?”



“Probably pretty late. Don’t wait up for me or anything. I’ve gotta get some work done today, or I can start looking for a new job.”



Felix frowned, lightly twining his finger in a blonde curl. “The cruel world of politics, yes?”



“Politics have nothing to do with it. I’ve been slacking off, babe.”



Felix allowed himself some distance, running fingertips beneath Caleb’s jacket, lightly caressing his muscles through his shirt. “You’re an awfully cute slacker,” Felix told him, “I wouldn’t mind if you were unemployed. More time to keep you all to myself.”



“That sounds a little possessive.”



“And?”



“And,” Caleb continued, stealing another kiss and ruffling the musician’s already unkempt hair. “I don’t mind that at all, really. You make a cute little housewife for me.”



“Ah, I have a job, hermoso,” Felix corrected, un-tucking Caleb’s shirt from his waistband and pulling him a little closer. “And I think someone has been rushing through foreplay if they think I could be a housewife.” He smirked and ran his fingers up Caleb’s belly. “You should explore a little more down there.”



Speaking of down there, Caleb felt a tingling warmth spread through his groin as those fingertips slipped gently over his abs and tweaked at his nipples. “Nn, Felix. I don’t have time…”



“There’s always time for love,” Felix purred, rising up and kissing Caleb’s mouth aggressively. The blonde sighed between Felix’s lips and pressed him back against the desk, feeling his thighs squeeze around his hips.



I am so gonna get fired, Caleb thought. Goddammit.







Surprisingly, he was not fired. He was not even brought into the office and lectured. Caleb found himself alone in his office, undisturbed, actually writing. As the words poured out of him, he felt the weight on his heart slowly lifting, the burden on his shoulders lightening. By the time suppertime rolled around, he stared down at his legal pad in utter disbelief.



There were words. Sentences. Coherent thoughts.



He sat at his desk for a few minutes, reading what he had written. Nothing spectacular, nothing groundbreaking, but something. Something that could be poignant and edgy, if polished correctly.



By the time he was finished editing, re-editing, typing, printing, copying, and generally making great use of the break room and its coffee pot, Caleb noticed that it was almost midnight. He bid farewell to the few vampires still lurking in the building, and made his way to his car. The night air smelled fresh and sweet after an unusual thunderstorm, and Caleb was a little sorry that he had missed it locked up in his office. He was even sorrier that by the time he got home, Felix would be asleep.



But he noticed a light on when he parked in the complex. In his apartment, he found Felix on his knees in the middle of the floor, rifling through what looked to be photographs. Caleb cocked an eyebrow and tossed his car keys on the table. Felix looked up and smiled wanly, holding up a half empty glass of wine to his lover in silent offering.



“No thanks,” Caleb denied, wandering over pressing a kiss into Felix’s hair, kneeling beside him. “Are you going to tell me what you’re doing, or should I just sit here in suspense?”



“I just started thinking about my mama,” Felix explained, voice already a little slurred. He swept a hand at the photographs spread across the hardwood floor. Caleb wasn’t sure if his eyes were bloodshot from the alcohol or from tears. Either way, he reached over and stroked the back of Felix’s neck. “I never told you about her,” Felix murmured. “She was a cowardly bitch.”



Caleb started at the words, but patiently waited for Felix to continue. “I spent most of my life hating her. She had a bad habit of running off with her boyfriends, leaving me all alone. When she was around, she hit me. She used to take a belt buckle and beat my chest and face when she was drunk, or felt like I deserved it.” Felix laughed humorlessly, fingers shoving through his hair almost violently. “When I told her I liked men, she slapped and choked me and threw me out into the dirt. She made me stay there for two days, hungry and thirsty.”



“She…” Caleb’s hand gripped the back of Felix’s neck, his heart suddenly beating hard and fast, his upper lip twitching like a snarling dog. “She what?”



“And then, when she was dying… She told me she was sorry. That she regretted it. That she loved me and was afraid.” Felix sipped at his wine for a long moment, Caleb tracing the quiet path of his tears down his face. “I’ve been trying to forgive her. I’ve been trying.” Felix closed his eyes, fingers absently stroking the St. Christopher’s medallion at his throat. “I keep telling myself, ’God has a reason for all the pain she put you through’, ’God has forgiven her.’ But I’m not God, Caleb. I can’t let it go.”



Caleb studied the medallion, and then Felix’s soft, broken eyes. He had assumed the man was spiritual, and he had been right. But he had also assumed the man was a constant ray of sunshine, bright and cheery. Perhaps he had wanted to believe, had desperately hoped to believe, that Felix Morales was some kind of balm for him. Some kind of sweet salvation. But he was more than that, sitting there with him and watching his broken body tremble with tears, Caleb realized how much of a fool he had been.



Not just with Felix, but with every relationship in his life. From his sister to his lovers. He had been selfish and cruel to all of them. He had demanded from them everything, and given them nothing in return.



Felix had been generously offering all of himself to Caleb; while the journalist gave him nothing but steamy mornings of passion. There had been no long talks in the night, no gentleness or tenderness beyond the physical. Felix had been starving for them, Caleb thought, quietly and patiently waiting for Caleb to let him inside.



“I’ve never believed in God,” Caleb told him softly, and he watched the tired smile spread on Felix’s face. “But you’re proof enough for me. You don’t have to forgive her, or forget about her. Our parents aren’t what defines us, or what break us. We have each other now.” Caleb stroked Felix’s wet cheek, and when he felt Felix brush against him, nuzzling his palm like some wounded dog, his heart broke. There was not a moment where Caleb was appalled by the romanticism of this; he truly believed his heart was broken. “Open up to me, Felix,” Caleb murmured, “I’m right here, baby.”



Felix moved against him, slowly, as though he were afraid to let himself be held. Caleb sensed a fragility in the man as he wrapped his arms around him, a sudden realization that Felix could be broken. He closed his eyes and pressed his mouth against his ear. “I love you,” he whispered to him, and he felt Felix stiffen slightly against him; Caleb knew he had heard the sincerity. He could not remember a time where he had spoken the words and felt his body and heart quiver against the force of the words. “I love you, Felix. More than I’ve… than I’ve ever loved anyone. It scares the shit out of me, babe. But, but I can’t imagine living without you.”



“Caleb,” Felix sighed, hands fisting in the man’s jacket, face hot and wet on Caleb’s throat. “Caleb. You don’t… You couldn’t know… how much…” But he could not finish, his words melting into Caleb’s throat, his fragile body shivering in Caleb’s arms. For the first time since his sexuality had been discovered, Caleb was not tempted to soothe a lover with sex or deep, burning kisses. He held Felix and let the man build a temple upon his shoulder; a place for redemption, for salvation, for comfort. Perhaps just a place where he could break apart and release his fear.



And when he did take Felix to bed, he did not wrestle with him, or let their passion burn brighter than their tenderness. He made slow, sweet love to him, explored his trembling body, tasted his frailty and strength combining. Inside of him, Caleb felt the rawness of their love, the horrible, beautiful depth of it. And he let it carry him away.



He searched Felix’s eyes as their passion reached its end and they laid in the aftermath. He did not find them bottomless as he had previously, and he did not find them fragile or broken. He found them dark and hazy with love, and Caleb let them melt his heart. He laid in Felix’s arms, and finally gave everything to him.



He trusted himself to Felix’s hands.