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Hey guys, heres the second instalment of Tainted Blood. This one gets a bit more interesting me thinks, so yeah. I'm not going to say much in case I spoil the plot, but please let me know what you think, hints, ideas, etc.
Here goes!
Ch. 2.
Nico strode up the stairs to the small mansion he and his brother shared. He shirked his coat off and left it in on the table in the foyer. Once again, the maid could pick it up. It never struck him as odd that he never saw the maids. In fact, as far as he was concerned, it was normal. It simply wasn't good manners to have a servant hovering around the whole time: it invaded your privacy, and privacy was something the old money in Europe valued more than anything else.
The house had an air of suddenly being fuller when he returned. It meant that Dante, Nico's brother had to be home. They could sense each other a mile away: they always had and they always would. It was as natural as breathing he supposed. Walking into the kitchen, Nico found he was right. Dante was sitting at the kitchen counter, eating whatever food the chef had prepared. Even standing at the entrance of the kitchen, Nico could smell it reeked of garlic. Dante had always had a soft spot for it, his Mediterranean upbringing could probably be thanked for that.
"So, the college boy returns to grace us with his presence."
"You said you were coming with today, Dante. What happened."
"Well, let's just say I got distracted. I went for my morning run and, well, there was just too much eye candy on the way. I couldn't help myself."
"So much eye candy that it took you the whole morning to have it all?"
"Ah, bro, don't judge. You know how it goes." Dante replied with a nonchalant shrug.
Despite being an extremely close pair, Nico had to admit to himself that most of the time his brother got on his nerves. It wasn't so much the fact that they irritated each other, simply the fact that they disagreed vehemently with the way the other was living his life. Nico was trying to be strong, trying to master his hunger. Dante, on the other hand, couldn't have cared less. He gave into it whenever it arose. In fact, Nico suspected he more than gave in to it, he actually enjoyed cultivating it and even increasing it.
The smell of the garlic wafting through the kitchen made Nico suddenly hungry. He had forgotten to eat something at the bar, and when the boy had approached the bar, he had been in such a rush to get back home that he had forgotten to order something on the way home. He walked to the other side of the counter, facing his brother and pressed the small button that opened the direct line to the chef's intercom.
"Giovanni, it's Nico. Listen, can you send up a plate of whatever you cooked for Dante. Just ease up a bit on the garlic please."
The reply was almost instantaneous. "Of course, my Lord.
He was just about to press the button to insist that the chef stop calling him that when it suddenly struck him as futile and he simply sighed and let it go. He looked up to see Dante smirking at him. He pointedly sniffed the air and then his smirk turned into a Cheshire cat-like grin.
"Hmmm, I can smell someone's hungry."
"No shit Sherlock, why do you think I ordered food."
"I'm not talking about food, l'il bro. Is it that time of the month again, huh?
"Ah shut up Dante. So what if it is?"
"Ooh, so how are we going to handle it this time? With difficulty, I suppose."
Nico shook his head at his brother's grinning face. He knew that Dante taunted him because he always got a reaction, and he tried hard to not give him one, but Dante was right. It was that time of the month and he was getting increasingly cranky. He was going to have to revise his schedule and cut back on a few days just to make sure for the next time. Right now, however, he was not going to be able to wait the extra few days as he had anticipated. Once again sighing, Nico pushed the button for the intercom. He didn't feel like looking into Dante's gloating face while he ate. It was enough to make him lose his appetite.
"Giovanni, have the food sent to my room please."
"Si, mio signore."
Nico didn't even bat an eyelid with the Italian. He was almost sure the servants were doing it just to irritate him. Still, it could be the fact that he was just generally cranky at the moment anyway. He stomped off to his room, doing his best to ignore Dante and resolving to stop feeling sorry for himself.
He once again sat up on the ledge of the window, looking down at the street below him. Cars were driving to and fro, and people with huge golf umbrellas were scurrying around the streets, trying their best not to get wet. He saw a yellow taxi shoot past, driving over a puddle and spraying three of the pedestrians with dirty water. Although he couldn't hear the angry response from the pedestrians because the window was closed, he could see the angry gesticulating at the taxi. The driver obviously didn't care, however, and sped away. Typical New York, Nico thought to himself, feeling his mood lift slightly. He flipped down onto his enormous Queen sized bed and grabbed the remote from the small antique rococo bedside table. Without even realising it, Nico thought to himself, that little bedside table probably represented his family better than anything in the world: small, intricate beyond belief and ornate to the point of pointlessness. He flipped through the channels before finally settling on MTV. He felt like some mindless entertainment and the American music industry was nothing if not that.
A minute later, Nico heard a discrete knock on the door.
"Enter," he commanded.
It was one of the maids bearing his food. Without a word, she put it on the small table next to the window and curtsied, waiting for him to dismiss her.
"Thank you, that's all."
She curtsied again and left the room, not having spoken a word. He hated being like this, callously commanding the servants around, but they refused to be handled any other way. They would look confused, suspicious and insulted if he tried making conversation with them. He often heard them talking and laughing amongst themselves, but that wasn't how you reacted to your boss. It was European snobbishness to the extreme. Still, they were only in his life for four years, so he supposed that he wouldn't have that much influence over them anyway. They would have to go please explain to his stuck up family on the other side of the pond, so they maintained their professional attitude even here in America.
Nico rolled off the bed and walked to the table, eyeing the food. He sat down and started eating, wolfing the food down, not even bothering to appreciate the taste. Giovanni's food was always superb, besides if he really wanted to savour the taste, he still had Giovanni around for a long time yet, he could always just order something else. Right now, however, the food was there to fill him, not to please him. If it was up to him, he wouldn't have eaten at all. But still, a body needs sustenance he supposed.
It took him a quick five minutes to finish the extravagant meal. He placed the fork he had used to shove the pasta into his mouth onto the plate and walked back to his cupboard. He had to go out tonight, to fill his appetite, so he had to choose his clothes carefully. At least this was one perk about the excessive standard of living; it was easier to satiate his hunger. People after all, were attracted to money and it endowed them with a false sense of security. How dangerous could a rich boy be anyway, right? Riiiight...
Walking into his wardrobe, Nico cast a critical eye over the clothes. He needed to look sharp without trying to. That was one thing these Americans would never get right. In fact, most Europeans didn't either. It seemed it only came naturally to the Italians, and maybe at a push, the French. The rest of the world either went over the top or under-dressed. Both were hideously offensive in Italian culture. After a few more moments of perusal, he selected a black Giorgio Armani suit. He had never worn it before, but the Italian designer had it flown up for him as a token of goodwill. The man was a family friend, but the benefits of Nico's family wearing his clothes weren't lost on the man. He was, after all, a great businessman and a superb marketing machine to boot.
Quickly jumping in the shower, not even waiting for the water to warm up this time, Nico washed his hair and lathered shaving cream over his face before shaving. He rinsed off and quickly dried himself, using one of the fluffy white towels hanging over the towel warmer. Talk about a useless luxury, he thought to himself.
He pulled on a pair of white Versace briefs and slid on the suit pants. He quickly unbuttoned the crisp blue shirt and swung it on. Next came a splash of cologne and eau de toilette before he buttoned the shirt up, except for the last three buttons at the top. He pulled on some black socks and shiny plain black leather shoes with a subtle, almost invisible zip on the side. He slid into the suit jacket, before standing at the mirror examining himself. He quickly straightened out his collar, deciding not to bother with a tie - It would look over-done. He had to admit, he looked good. Against his jet black hair and the flawlessly fitting black suit, the blue in his eyes and on the shirt shimmered like tanzanite. His skin, unblemished copper, looked soft and supple, yet the stubble present on his face despite the shave emphasized his manliness. He had to admit, the gods had truly blessed him with his looks. As if they could afford to do otherwise, he smiled ruefully at himself.
Walking to his bedside table, he opened it, taking out his wallet and a couple of crisp, hundred dollar bills which lay beneath it. He pressed the button to activate Luciano's intercom. The valet seemed surprised to hear from him. It wasn't often that Nico called him.
"Luciano, please bring the Porsche out front, I'll be driving myself tonight."
"Of course, my Lord. Which one would you like?"
"Actually, on second thoughts, bring the Mercedes SLR out front. The silver one?"
"Yes, my lord."
As he pressed the button to disconnect the call, Nico saw Dante sauntering into his room.
"Going somewhere, brother?"
"Not that it's any of your business, but yes. I'm going to Bungalow."
"Ooh, fun. Hoping to get some with old Paris Hilton tonight are we," Dante replied with a wink. "Mind if I tag along?"
"Suit yourself dude, I'm leaving in five minutes though."
"Oh, aren't we moody today. Keen to get started? The appetites got to be worse than I thought. Don't worry, I'll be ready. Meet you out front?"
"Whatever man."
With that, Dante sauntered back out the room, apparently in no rush to get dressed. If he was late, however, Nico would leave him, and he knew that. Just to kill some time, Nico stood infront of the mirror once last time, looking at himself. He decided to pull some gel through his hair, trying to make it a bit more messy than it already was. It was just the right length for the style he wore it in. It didn't really suit the whole clean cut image he was going for, but hey, this was America, not Italy so he supposed he had to make some sort of concession.
Five minutes later, he was in the foyer, just like he had promised Dante. Not five seconds later, Dante came sauntering in, looking like he had just walked out of a fashion magazine, a bit more Hugo Boss to Nico's Armani, but it worked for him. He was, after all, a little bigger built around the arms and chest than Nico.
"I'm ready to go when you are, brother. What car are we going in, anyway?"
"The SLR, come on, let's go."
"Ooh, can I drive?"
Nico had to chuckle at that. His brother could get so sarcastically childish about stupid things. It reminded him of when they were much younger and much closer. Despite his continuous taunting, Dante obviously still had the ability within him to lighten Nico's mood whenever he chose.
"That's the smile I'm talking about, buddy. So I take it I'm driving then?"
Nico nodded. He wasn't all that fond of driving himself around anyway. He preferred walking, but the club was too far for that. He climbed into the passenger seat, putting his seatbelt on. Dante clipped the seatbelt into place before getting into the car. Clearly he still hated wearing them, but the car would squeal unless the harness was clipped in place. Without a second thought, he revved up the engine and shot into the road without looking behind him to navigate the traffic. He always had been a bit of a hot head when it came to speed and heights. Shooting through the traffic on their way to the club, Dante tried to pick up some conversation.
"Dude, I don't know why you just don't give in to it. It's not such a big deal, seriously. It's only once a month that you have to worry about it. Why do you make it such a big deal?"
"Because, Dante, it's not right."
"How is it not right? It is who we are, bro. There's no running away from it."
"Well, I do it once a month because I have to, you're right, there's no running away from it. But i'm not going to play sick mind games before I do it. It's not right."
"Ah bro, you always did think too much. You must be getting pretty itchy to quench that thirst, huh? What's it been, almost four weeks now?"
"Closer to five, actually."
Dante gave Nico a surprised look.
"That's leaving it a bit long, don't you think?"
"The less you do it, the less you have to do it."
"Well, that's a nice theory anyway. Anyway, I'm excited. Tonight's going to be just like old times, hey? You and me, scouting the field, stalking our prey, and then... POUNCING!"
"It's going to be nothing like that, Dante. I told you, I'm doing this because I have to. I don't have to pretend to have fun while I'm doing it."
"Well, that's a bit melodramatic, don't you think. Just lighten up, Nico, jeez. I can just see you killing my vibe tonight."
"I never said you had to come with. You asked, remember?"
Dante shook his head but didn't comment further. They drove silently for another five minutes before reaching the club. As soon as they stepped out of the car, cameras started flashing. Dante threw the keys car's keys at the valet who had opened the door for him and smiled broadly for the cameras. He loved being the centre of attention, even though he could see confused faces trying to decipher who the two boys were. They didn't hit the elite scene in New York enough to be well known. Still, the car, the suits, the looks, the fact that they were about to go into Bungalow, it had to mean they were social elite, so they carried on clicking the cameras away anyway. They would figure out what to do with the pictures later.
Nico shook his head before walking straight into the club, not even bothering to pose for the cameras. He did, however, put a friendly smile on his face. No need to seem like a constipated hard-ass while he was there. Dante stopped showing off for the cameras before striding to catch up with him.
"Jeez, bro, lighten the fuck up. It's all about the entrance, you know that."
"I told you Dante, I'm not here to enjoy myself."
"Well, let's go get some drinks anyway, huh? You bring cash?"
"Yeah, I've got a few hundred on me. I wasn't planning on staying too long."
"Good enough for me. I'm not planning on it either," he replied with a wicked sparkle in his eyes.
With that, he grabbed Nico by the arm and half dragged half pushed him towards the bar. He waved to get the bartender's attention.
"What will you guys have?"
"A bottle of Vodka, yes?"
The bartender raised his eyebrows, but continued serving them anyway. "And which brand would you like?"
"Surprise me," replied Dante.
The barman walked away, ducked behind the bar, then straightened out again. He put a bottle of Diva Vodka on the table.
"That's $3000, sir."
"Dante, I told you I don't have that much."
"Yeah, but I do," he replied without skipping a beat. He pulled out a credit card and gave it to the bartender. Five minutes later, they were opening the vodka after Dante had told the bartender not to worry about glasses.
"That was a waste, Dante. There's cheaper alcohol than that around."
"Yeah yeah, save it. It's not like we can't afford it. Besides, then we wouldn't have gotten all these pretty little stones, would we?" He replied referring to the gems swilling around in the vodka. "Anyway, bottoms up."
With that, Dante tipped the bottle over his mouth, making the liquid gush down his throat. He didn't even flinch as he poured a quarter of the bottle down his gullet. Straightening up, he had a shit eating grin on his face.
"Want some?"
"Gee, thanks man. I'd love some."
He handed the bottle to Nico, who did the same thing. Despite the deep burning sensation spreading through his throat, Nico continued pouring the stinging liquid into his mouth until he saw only a quarter of the bottle remained. Dante could have the rest. He straightened up, not having spilt a single drop. He felt the fiery burn spread through his chest and then his stomach. He felt slightly guilty for downing $1500 worth of alcohol in less than five minutes, but Dante was right, it's not like the cash was an issue. Besides, if he was going to get through tonight, he was going to need it. Dante had subtly been kind to Nico by forcing him to drink the alcohol. He knew it, and Nico knew it, but neither of them commented on it. With that, Nico handed the bottle back to Dante.
"Why, we were thirsty, weren't we."
"Oh shut up and finish up over here, we've got business to attend to."
"All work and no play makes Nico a dull boy." With that, Dante gulped the rest of the liquid down. Looking at the pure joy spreading across his face, anyone could have sworn he was downing a bottle of nectar. He drank the last gulp and slammed the bottle down onto the bar. They both saw the bartended give them a surprised look. I suppose most normal people take their time drinking that much vodka, Nico thought to himself.
"Ok, so what's on today's menu? You feel like a vivacious blond, a busty brunette or a delicious redhead?"
"Actually, I'm going to go for that one over there," Nico replied indicating a pretty if somewhat drunk girl sitting with a group of her friends who were looking over at the two boys every now and then while giggling.
"What?! Her?! But, she's not even, HOT! And she's drunk out of her mind. Where's the challenge in that?"
"Exactly, there is no challenge. I can just finish up sooner and carry on with my life."
"Whatever you say, bro. Me? I'm going for that one over there."
"That's that model from Brazil, you moron. She has a boyfriend."
"I know. Should make it a bit more, interesting, don't you think?"
"Ah, whatever man. Later."
Nico left Dante without another word. He circled around the girl he had indicated to Dante earlier. When she got up to order another drink, he moved subtly to intercept her. Without thinking about it, he pretended to look away and bumped lightly into her. He looked forward, pretending to be startled.
"Oh, I'm sorry, I was trying to keep an eye out for my brother. Did I hurt you?"
The girl started giggling as he looked down at her. She wasn't so bad looking. Pretty, in fact. Just not what Dante would have described as HOT. He could feel the heat radiating off her skin, spiked with a small but distinct dose of her pheromones. It reminded Nico slightly of the scent of freshly picked apples. Sticking out his hand, he introduced himself to her. She giggled some more, before offering her own name in return.
"You're not from here, are you Nico?" she asked innocently, still giggling in nervousness of having someone like him talk to her. It was obvious that she wasn't used to being the chosen one in her group of friends.
"No, actually, I'm from Italy. I moved to America three years ago."
"That explains it. You're accent is so cute. I mean, its nice. Like cool." She spluttered a bit as she tried to make sense of her own words once she realised she had given him a compliment.
"Thank you, I am trying to get rid of it though."
All the while they were talking, Nico could smell that sweet fragrance of apples increasing bit by bit as the girl allowed herself to believe that he was interested in her. Clearly the thought was turning her on. As he noticed her arousal, Nico felt his own natural instincts kick in. He allowed it to envelope him, to stop him from thinking about what he was going to have to do to this poor girl. He knew she didn't deserve it, but he had to do this.
With his instincts now kicking into higher gear, and Nico controlling his own actions less, he subtly leaned into the girl. He could feel the tingling sensation start around his crotch, quickly spreading across his body and intensifying as he got more into the game he was playing. He noticed him expelling his own pheromones: a distinctly masculine musk sweetened slightly as it mingled with the smell of the expensive cologne he so carefully chosen to wear earlier. He felt his eyes sparkle bright blue, and he imagined that by this time, his shirt was probably paling in comparison. By this stage, he reckoned, even tanzanite would pale. By this stage, the electrical currents shooting through his body had started creeping up his throat, and he hear his voice turn deeper, more gruff, more sensous. By this time, the chest-wrenchingly hot smell of his pheromones had all but enveloped the girl and he could see her basically start drooling over him. He slid his hand to brush across her forehead as he swept a few stray strands of mousey coloured hair back from her face. He allowed the sexual pulse he was feeling to shoot through his hand into her body. She audibly gasped at the contact. By this time, her pheromones had changed in smell from the sweet scent of apples to a more savage, violent smell of pure sex as she panted for him.
Nico didn't allow his thoughts to intrude on his actions. He forced them to the back of his head and continued playing the game he was so good at. It was so easy that he didn't even have to use any subliminal force in his speech as he made the suggestion that they find a quiet place to sit. He took her by the hand, once again letting a small bit of the sexual tingle slip from his body into hers. She shuddered with pleasure. He led her to a small set of seats partially hidden from everyone else. As soon as she sat next to him, he leaned over to her, kissing her sensually along the nape of her neck. This time, he let the electrifying current of sexual pleasure surge into her body unrestricted. He felt her shuddering in appreciation.
"What say you we take this across the street to the hotel?" he suggested.
Her eyes lit up at the suggestion and she nodded and roughly whispered her assent, barely able to speak. He stood up and led her through the entrance. The cold air whipped at them like a thousand knives, and he slid his smoothly muscled arm around waist to keep her warm. She snuggled into his tightly muscled chest in response. Once again, the cold didn't bother him, but he felt it sobering up the raw sexual presence he had been exuding. It was allowing him to start thinking again, for guilt to creep up. He quickened his pace, slipping through the electric doors of the hotel, not even bothering to look at the porters milling around outside. He walked straight up to the reception, all the time without letting go of the girl he was holding onto.
"I'd like a room for the night please."
The girl at the reception looked surprised but tried not to let it show.
"I'm sorry sir, but all the rooms are taken for tonight. We only have the President's suite open for the evening."
"That's fine, I'll take it."
The girl seemed to frown slightly but typed away at her computer anyway.
"That will be $10 000 for the weekend, sir."
"I only want it for tonight."
"I'm sorry sir, we only rent it out for a minimum of two nights."
By this time, the receptionist was eyeing him suspiciously, clearly thinking that someone his age couldn't afford that type of thing.
"Fine, whatever, put it on this card," he replied. He flicked the card from one of the family corporations at the receptionist. No one would be able to trace it back to him: they would only come up with some random company in Italy.
She looked really surprised at that, and even more so when the transaction processed and the card wasn't rejected.
"Thank you sir, here are the keys. The butler will take you up to the president's suite now. Do you have any luggage?"
"No, I don't. And tell the butler not to worry, I can find my own way."
Nico didn't even glance back at the clearly still flustered receptionist as he made his way to the elevator. He looked at the buttons and pressed the one for the penthouse or president's suite. Five minutes later, he kicked the door shut behind him and lunged at the girl, kissing her deeply while running his hands roughly over her body. She melted into his kiss, not able to fight his deep sensuality. He broke the kiss just long enough to locate the bedroom, and then started kissing her again. This time more fiercely, while he guided her to the door, all the time pulling her clothes off, one piece at a time.
By the time they flopped down onto the bed, only her bra and panties remained, and Nico made short work of this too. Within seconds, she was completely naked with his fully clothed body pressed over hers. It was only then that she started unbuttoning his shirt. Without much patience, he ripped the shirt and jacket off, buttons flying everywhere. He kicked off his shoes and in one swift movement, took off his pants, socks and jocks off, leaving him exposed to her. Once again, her eyes seemed to widen with delighted surprise as she drank in the sight of his tight, muscular body. He still wasn't hard, but crawled ontop of her anyway, pulling her up the bed so her head was on the pillows. Without further thought, he once again started kissing her, his lips sucking savagely at her mouth while his hands roamed over her body, determined to discover all her most intimate places. This time, he forcefully shot electric currents of sexual bliss into her body as his hands roved over all the most sensitive places: her breasts and nipples, her sides, up her thighs, and finally, into the already moist, watery lips of her vagina. With the last current of pleasure he sent into her body, he felt her body convulse in absolute pleasure. He sent another current into her, slowly increasing it as she continued to writhe harder and harder. Eventually, he felt her moan and pant and then groan deeply as she experienced her first orgasm for the night. The sound of that was enough to get him hard. With that, he plunged his thick, 7 inch cock into her, making her orgasm more times that night than her whole life before that. Nico himself came four times that night, after which, they both fell into a deep slumber.
A few hours later, Nico woke up before the sun had even risen. The girl next to him was still in a deep sleep of utter exhaustion and he knew she wasn't going to wake up for a while yet. He rolled out of bed, and walked naked to the shower. This time, he turned on only the hot water, waiting for steam to start billowing out of the room before he stepped in. The boiling water almost seared his skin it was so hot, but Nico welcomed the feeling. For the first time in five weeks, he felt completely at ease, the irritating energy he had to contend with every morning up till now completely gone now that he had satiated his needs. For the first time in a long time, he felt strong, virile, on top of the world. There wasn't even a hint of the melancholy and irritation he had felt for the world for the last few weeks. Instead his mind was rushing with exhilarated thoughts. He had soaked up enough sexual energy from that girl last night to last him at least another four weeks. Four weeks in which he would not effectively have to rape a girl to satisfy his darker lusts, lusts he had been born with, lusts he had to fulfil to survive.
Nico finished showering and quickly got dressed in his torn clothes, buttoning up his jacket and tightly tucking his shirt in so that no one would see it was torn. He looked at the girl sleeping in the bed. Guilty as he felt, he knew he needed to do what he had last night. If nothing else, the girl would have had the time of her life and her friends would all be jealous that she had managed to land a looker like Nico.
Without a second glance, he quietly slipped out of the room and went down to the reception. The same reception was still on duty, but this time, there was none of the judgemental stare she had given him when he had taken the expensive suite upstairs. This time, she was all smiles and help. Hhe told her to call him a cab. Five minutes later, he was sitting in the backseat, making the trip home. Hopefully Dante would still be out, that way he wouldn't be able to taunt Nico about last night.
As soon as the cab dropped him off at home, Nico took his time walking up to the house. He wouldn't know if Dante was there until he was inside the building. He didn't know why there was this limit on their ability to sense each other, it just existed. And right now, he didn't feel like being anywhere near Dante.
He walked quietly into the entrance hall, relieved to feel his brother's presence missing. With no further reason to hold back, he bounded up the stairs two at a time and walked towards his bedroom. He shucked the clothes he was wearing and quickly changed into a pair of plain white boxers. With no other plans for the day, he jumped into bed. For the next couple of hours, he slept.
When he woke up later that day, Nico immediately sensed his brother's presence. Before he even had time to wake up properly, he felt he presence come closer, and sure enough, Dante wandered into the room.
"So little bro, you fed last night huh? Tell me, was she good?"
"Dante, just stop. You're not going to get anything out of me. So just stop."
"Ooh, touchy aren't we. Clearly the conscience is working over time."
Nico just glared at him.
"Anyway," he emphasised sarcastically, " School starts for you on Monday. Excited?"
"As excited as I can get I suppose."
"Decided on what you studying yet? And if you say law, I'm going to puke. You don't need another law degree. You already have two."
"Yeah well, things like that don't count here Dante. But no, I've decided to change to language and literature. Maybe take some French, German, Spanish, Dutch or something. I'm definitely going to do English literature though. It looks really interesting."
"Oh spare me the boring details. What's the point of doing those things if you can speak the languages anyway? It's a waste of time. You know how easy it is for us to pick languages up. Why bother?"
"Because, Dante, just because you can speak a language doesn't mean you really appreciate it. I'm not doing beginners stuff. I'm focusing more on the literature."
"Sounds greeeaaaat!"
"No one said you had to study it. I take it you're not going back?"
"What's the point? It's not going to teach me anything."
"The point is to blend, Dante. What the hell do you think the servants are going to have to say about all this when they get back home? Oh, Nico and Dante are living it up in New York, off the family's wealth for no good reason."
"Fuck what the servants think. And fuck what everyone back home thinks. You and I both know we're not living off the family's money. And even if we are, fuck them. They weren't too keen on us staying in Italy anyway. I don't see how they can tell us to get lost, and then still tell us what to do while we are lost. Come on Nico, man the fuck up. When are you going to become the little brother I used to have. The Raf I used to have fun with? Fuck society man."
Nico winced at the use of the nickname. His brother had always been the only one to call him Raf, short for his second name Raffaele. It was perhaps one of the most intensely personal things between the two, who had grown up with basically only each other.
"I told you Dante, I'm trying to change. It's still the same me, I'm just trying to not hurt anyone. People don't deserve to be treated the way we used to. You know that."
"I'm not asking you to be like you were, Raf. I'm just asking you to loosen up. What you did last night, it wasn't so bad, was it. In fact, she probably enjoyed it more than you did. I'm not asking you to do what I do. I'm just asking you to start living a little again. We aren't built to live like them, Raf. And if father comes to visit, what exactly are you going to have to say for yourself? You know he's not going to condone what you're doing now."
"I will deal with our father when or if he comes. You and I both know he doesn't care much about us. If he did, he'd try stopping around a bit more often."
"Again, Raf, you're assigning too much emotion to everything. You know what dad is. Hell, you know what we are. Stop trying to assign human values to us. Stop thinking like one of them."
"I just... can't, Dante. There's more to it than that. What you're doing is wrong. What father does is even worse. Just because we're born one way doesn't force us to give in to it."
As he said it, Nico could see the frustration mount in Dante's eyes. He could see the anger burning, the passion growing. But he refused to budge. He refused to hurt people like he had in the past, like Dante was still doing.
"And then you wonder why I took her from you? Father would be disgusted."
The reference to her made Nico flinch. He had tried so hard to suppress that particular can of emotion, to forget everything about her. It was their argument over her that had caused the breach between the two brothers. A breach which, if Nico had anything to do with it, would never be repaired. Thoughts of her spurred Nico's own anger on.
"Get out, Dante. Fuck off."
"You still holding grudges. For shit's sake dude, that was ages ago. Cheer up about it already."
"I'm warning you, Dante. Get out of my room. I'm not having the rest of this conversation with you."
"You're warning me what, Nico? You going to beat my sorry ass? What are you going to do. We both know I'm stronger than you. That retarded vegetarian diet of yours gives you some of our powers. Don't for a second think I have the qualms you do about making sure I keep my full powers. You know you can't beat me. So stop with the tough man act. We both know where you stand."
"Just get out of my room, Dante. You've got the rest of the house to yourself. You know the rules, get out."
"Fucking miserable little sod. When are you going to stop feeling so sorry for yourself and just live. Fuck sakes."
Nico didn't even crack a smile as Dante left the room grumbling. He always did that. He pushed buttons, made him angry, did things which made him want to kill Dante, and then he just walked off grumbling as if they had had a fight over who won the European Football League last year. He had no idea the damage he caused others, and while he lived like that, he never would.
Nico spent the rest of the day getting his things ready for University. He got rid of all the old books he had been using, replacing them with the new ones one of the servants must have picked up after he left the list on his desk yesterday. When he was done, just flipped back down onto his bed and started reading one of the prescribed books he would have to do for German called Parfum. He had heard it was pretty good, but it was a bit morbid for his tastes. Still, he found himself drawn into it.
The next day passed in a pretty similar vein, with Nico getting the rest of the things in order for school and reading more of the prescribed book for German. Just before he was about to turn in for the night, there was a slight knock on the door, and one of the maids walked in carrying a silver tray with a sealed letter on it.
"This arrived from Italy, my Lord."
She held the tray, waiting for Nico to take the letter, then curtsied and left the room. Well, Nico thought to himself, at least she had spoken English to him.
He looked at the letter in his hand, turning it around to see who it had been addressed to. It was written in English, in the long, graceful script of the personal secretary he had left in Italy to oversee the affairs he had left behind. While it had struck him initially as superfluous and wasteful to have a secretary at all, it had been yet another of his family's insistences that he retain one. It was for etiquette, if nothing else. He had finally agreed on the proviso that he would be shared with Dante. An arrangement which Dante made no use of. He didn't see the point of playing by their family's games.
Tearing the letter open, let his eyes flow across the graceful calligraphy in which it had been written. The letter had only been written a day ago, which meant it had obviously been speed posted to America. Dropping the letter onto his bed, he wondered what he should do about it. The secretary had seemed confused, not knowing whether the information he was given was correct but had felt obliged to notify Nico anyway. He had asked Nico to forward the message onto Dante. Clearly the secretary didn't have much of a relationship with him.
Walking to his bedroom door, Nico paused for a few seconds, thinking before he finally persuaded himself to shout.
"Dante! News from Italy!."
"Yeah so what?! Who cares! Bunch of stuck up motherfuckers on that side of the pond anyway. If someone died, pretend I'm sorry. If someone got born, well, congratulations but I can't make the christening. I've got too much on my plate right now."
"Yeah what, like watching TV? Get off your ass and come here, Dante. I've got real news."
Nico heard the TV in the lounge continue blaring Dante clearly thought it over. A few seconds later, there was a click and eventually Dante trudged towards the Nico's room, looking like he had just been cheated off a Christmas present.
"Yeah, well, so what's the big news. This better be good," he muttered grumpily.
"Oh, it's good all right. Father dropped a message off with out secretary. He wants us in Italy in December. No excuses."
Dante gaped like a fish as the news sunk in, his handsome face completely blank with incomprehension. As Nico's words sunk eventually sunk in, a wicked smile unfolded itself across his face.
"Ha, speak of the devil."
"Yeah, funny, you know that?" was all Nico replied before slamming the door in Dante's face.
Anyway guys, here is part two. I've already started part three, so keep the comments coming! I know there was straight sex in this chapter, but I promise this is going to be a predominantly gay series. You guys will understand why there will be tiny amounts of straight sex in the story once you get the gist of it. Anyway, Im really enjoying writing this and my imagination is seriously running wild! So, shot alot guys!
Peace!
Luca.
lucawarberg@gmail.com