Caesura - 2. Chapter 2

“What was that?” Noël looked at Landyn. “Did someone piss him off? Eat his favorite Danish?” When the man didn’t answer immediately, he added, “I even played ‘Für Elise’ for him. Landyn?”

“I honestly don’t know.” Landyn frowned. “Didn’t you─”, but then he remembered Kristof and stopped himself from asking if Noël had noticed Diarmad’s irritable behavior lately also.

With his right hand shoved deep into the pocket of his jeans, as if he wanted to hide it after being so rudely ignored, Kristof stood awkwardly beside the piano. “Look, Noël, um… I better head home now. Next time we could meet in my dorm room, maybe? That way we wouldn’t um… disturb your, er... dad.”

Still staring at the closed door, Noël only listened with half an ear. “Sure, no problem. Next time at yours. Good idea.” He felt he had to explain what he didn’t understand himself. “Look, normally he isn’t like that. I don’t know what─”

“It’s okay, Noël. We were rather loud.” They quickly left the room to pick up Kristof’s bag and laptop and then Noël walked his friend to the door.

“See you tomorrow, okay?” Kristof hesitated briefly, before he gently patted Noël’s arm. “Take care.”

“Sure.”

Noël closed the door and went back to the living room, where he dropped down on the couch beside Landyn. “What the fuck just happened, Lan? He’s never like this, not even when he’s angry.”

“I already told you, Noël, I don’t know. I mean, I noticed he’s been a little short-tempered lately, but I thought you guys were fighting or something.”

“No, we weren’t. Although, this morning it was a close call. He became ultra angry because I left my books on the table. Again.” Noël frowned. “Maybe he’s overworked.”

“You went directly to your room when you came home, instead of going to him. You know he’s always waiting for you, yes? You could have introduced Kristof to him too.”

“Yeah, sure but that’s still no excuse to behave like an asshole in front of my friend.” Noël got up from the couch. “Which is why I’m going to get some answers now or at least an explanation from him.”

Diarmad sat behind his desk with a scowl on his face, furiously hacking away on his keyboard. He didn’t acknowledge Noël, whose first impulse was to lash out and tell him exactly what he thought. But then he noticed the dark smudges under Diarmad’s eyes. His lover looked tired, almost worn, and he realized he didn’t really want to fight with him. The thought alone felt wrong.

So instead of yelling at him, he went quietly over to the desk, stepped behind Diarmad’s chair, and placed both hands on top of his shoulders. Slowly starting to massage the tense shoulder muscles, he asked, “Bad day?”

“Not until an hour ago.”

Noël held back his temper. Somehow, he’d known Diarmad wouldn’t make this easy. “I’m sorry, love. I should have come to you and introduced Kristof.” A peace offering. “And I guess we were a little loud.” His thumbs pressed down on an especially hard knot and made it relax. “But I played ‘Für Elise’ for you.”

“You know I do not like having strangers in my home unannounced.” Diarmad completely ignored Noël’s last sentence.

“I called Landyn, and I thought he’d tell you.”

“Well, he didn’t.”

Noël rested his forehead against Diarmad’s shoulder. “Are we good? D… Come on, I don’t like fighting with you.”

“I am trying to work here, Noël. I don’t have time for trifles.” Diarmad practically shook him off, and Noël had to stand up quickly so he wouldn’t fall on his face.

“Excuse me?” When no answer came, Noël nodded. “I understand.” He went to the door. Before he reached it, he looked back over his shoulder. “If you remember what exactly crawled up your butt, I’ll be in my room.” He took extra care not to slam the door shut.

In the living room, he found Simon waiting for him. Despite their initial difficulties, the man had become a close friend of Noël’s. He was a silent observer who noticed more than others did. By sharing some of his observations with Noël, he had helped him to adjust not only to his new home, but also to his role as the King’s mate. “And? What did he say? Is everything okay between you?”

“No, not really.” Noël threw himself on the couch beside Simon. “He didn’t have time to talk because he had work to do.”

“Excuse me?”

“That’s exactly what I said. He also said he doesn’t have time for trifles. Trifles! I don’t get this, Simon.” Noël tugged at the frayed edges of a hole in his jeans. “I apologized for not calling him and letting him know I was bringing Kristof with me, although honestly, I think that’s none of his business. I’m not a ten-year-old who has to ask if he can bring a friend over, don’t you think?” Noël couldn’t sit still any longer. He walked over to his piano but didn’t open the lid. “After living here for over a year, I thought this was my place too. Only, he just stressed the fact that this is his home. No wonder Kris thought he was my father.”

Simon frowned. “Kris thought Diarmad was your father?”

“Yeah, right? He called him Mr. Carmichael.”

“Ouch! And the King?”

“Didn’t react at all, at least not outwardly.”

“But he must have heard it.”

“Absolutely.”

“ Hmm… So, what did you do? Storm into the study and yell at him?”

“No. I mean, I wanted to, but then I saw him, and I suddenly didn’t feel like fighting anymore. I just wanted to explain, apologize, clear the air, or whatever, and I thought everything would be good. I actually kinda hoped he’d apologize too. I was very wrong, apparently.” He pushed his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “I don’t understand this, Simon. What is happening here?”

“Ah, well, maybe he just had a bad day. Let him be for now, and tonight everything will be good again.” Simon patted his back encouragingly. “Don’t think too much about this.” But somehow Noël couldn’t shake the feeling Simon was trying to radiate optimism he didn’t actually feel.

Noël went back to his room, listlessly sorting through the papers on his desk and finally decided to study some more, distracting himself from too much thinking. At first he had difficulties concentrating, but then he became so engrossed in an article, he didn’t notice it was dinnertime until Keith knocked at his door.

“My lord, do you want to have dinner in the dining room, or should I bring you something here?”

“Keith, how many times do I have to tell you it’s Noël, just Noël, no ‘my lord’.” Noël rubbed his neck and yawned. “Who else will be there?”

“Just you. The King went out. Simon and Landyn accompanied him.”

“Oh.” Noël fought to swallow and took a deep breath, plastering a smile on his face. “Well, I think I’ll just have a couple of sandwiches here in my room then. Thank you, Keith.”

At bedtime, Noël contemplated staying in his own room for the very first time since living with Diarmad. Keith insisted on always putting fresh bedclothes and sheets on the bed, although he’d never slept in it. But then he decided against it. He didn’t want to let the situation get out of hand, so he went to their bedroom, got fresh pajama pants from one of the dressers, and took a quick shower. After that, he climbed into the bed, staring out of the window at the dimly-lit campus until he fell into a restless sleep.

He didn’t notice when Diarmad came back, but he remembered that at one point during the night he’d found himself snuggled up to his lover, finally feeling whole again.

***

Noël woke to an empty bed, but the bathroom was still damp from the shower. Disappointed he missed the opportunity to talk to Diarmad alone, he changed into fresh clothes, then went into the dining room where he found Simon and Landyn silently talking to each other. Looking up, Landyn smiled into his direction. “Hey, good morning. When do you have to be at school?”

“At nine. Did you see Diarmad?”

Landyn sipped on his coffee for a long moment, seemingly choosing his words carefully. “He just went into his study.”

“Probably when he heard me opening the door, huh?” Looking at their embarrassed faces, Noël knew he was right. Suddenly he wasn’t hungry anymore. “I think I’ll pack my things and then I’ll be off. Not sure when I’ll be back, though.” Which was nonsense; he knew exactly when he would be home. It just felt good to say this, even though Diarmad couldn’t hear him. He asked Keith for a thermos mug filled with coffee and then went to his room to get his bag pack. In the end, he left the house half an hour earlier than he would have normally.

That afternoon, on his way home, Noël decided to go directly to his room instead of visiting Diarmad in his study. The man wanted to brood so he’d let him.

He stubbornly still slept in their shared bedroom. It felt as if it was the only connection they had at the moment, and he didn’t want to lose it. When he woke up in the middle of the night and found himself in his lover’s arms, he contemplated waking him, forcing him to talk. But something was holding him back, an inkling he should enjoy what he had right then. Before it was gone. He instantly dismissed the thought. They would overcome whatever it was that was separating them.

***

A few days later, Noël came home to find all his clothes and toiletries in his own room. He immediately stormed over to the other bedroom. It was locked. His first reaction was to break the door, but staring at the unyielding wood, he slowly realized what this meant. He hadn’t just been locked out of their shared bedroom but of their shared life. Quickly, hot anger was replaced by despair.

Back in his room, he slumped down on the bed, trying to comprehend what had gone wrong and when. Had there been a point where he could have had avoided this, or was this bound to happen anyway? They hadn’t known each other that long before they moved in together. External circumstances had forced their hands. Maybe they should have slowed down afterwards, after McGill had been out of the picture. But everything was fine. Perfect. Only, something must have gone wrong, and he hadn’t seen it. Couldn’t have seen it? He needed to talk to his mate, only Diarmad evaded him. Gone most of the day, he also didn’t answer his phone.

What would he give for just one look into Diarmad’s head, to see for himself what was wrong, as the man didn’t speak to him anymore. But of course he couldn’t do that. He never tapped accidentally into others’ minds anymore; his training with Landyn and some of the most experienced Seraei telepaths had made sure of it.

***

Simon came into the bedroom where he found his mate adjusting the bowtie that went with the tux he had to wear that evening. Landyn was about to accompany their king to an official dinner invitation and ball, acting as his bodyguard. Normally, Noël─ as the King’s mate─ would have gone also, and Simon had seen the invitation was for the both of them, but Diarmad had made it very clear that he was going alone.

“You always look hot in a tux, love.” Simon smiled and went over to help his mate with the tie. After he’d fixed it, he gave him a kiss and then looked at Landyn meaningfully.

“What?”

“You have to talk to him tonight, Landyn; maybe he’ll listen to you. At least he might tell you what has gotten into him. This situation cannot continue much longer. He can’t keep up the silent treatment with Noël; he is getting upset, to put it mildly, and I don’t know how much longer Luis’ influence will be able to contain his anger.”

“I tried to talk to him already. The first time he ignored me, the second time he told me it’s none of my business. The third time he threatened to fire me.”

“Do you have any idea what brought this up? He is ruining his relationship with his mate; Noël is the one man he has been waiting for all his life. He spent the last eighteen years watching him growing up! I can’t believe it. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he’s gone mad.”

Landyn sighed. “I know, love. But there is nothing we can do right now, we just have to hope he realizes what he’s doing and comes to his senses.”

“I doubt he will do that though. Do you have any idea what Noël is going through right now? I can feel his pain, his agony, as if it were mine.” Simon started to pace up and down the floor. “It’s not only the silent treatment; it’s the uncertainty. He doesn’t know if he did something wrong. He deserves answers. It’s the least Diarmad can do.”

“Look, I’ll try to talk to him again, okay? I’ll tell him he should at least explain himself to Noël. But I’m almost positive he won’t listen.”

The chapter is a day early as I'm heading off to sketchy internet reception. I'm not sure I'll have the next one up next week for the same reason. Sorry. 
Thanks to Val and Lisa for doing an awesome job making this story work.
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