Kabal - 5. Chapter 5

“Nico, you forgot Henry’s toys!” Ivan yelled.

Diarmad despised hearing the name ‘Nico’; it felt wrong. He would always be Noël to him. A door slammed and, five minutes later, loud shouting and laughing lured him to the window. Down in the courtyard Noël was playing tug of war with Henry. Henry, the defector. But who could blame the dog? Noël had charmed him as he did everybody. A smile crept onto Diarmad’s face. No one stood a chance against his mate--Seraei, human, or even animal.

As Noel exuberantly ran behind Henry, clad in cut-offs, bare feet, and nothing else, Diarmad didn’t see the tall, solid body of a grown man, but rather the lanky eighteen-year-old boy he fell in love with.

He abruptly turned away from the window and quickly went to his private study. He preferred the cozy room with the delicate cherry furniture to the bigger one downstairs, which he now only used when he received official visitors.

Sitting down behind the desk with every intention of going through the file Landyn had put together for him, he became distracted once again, this time by the thought of what he witnessed yesterday when he listened in on a conversation between Noël and Ivan. Cautiously, his mate had inquired why Ivan wasn't living with his the rest of his clan, as was custom for the McLeans. To Diarmad’s surprise, Ivan had not become angry but instead revealed he was waiting for his mate; something he had only told his king and his father, the leader of the McLean clan.

The King's Mate is an arbitrator between the Seraei and their King; with him they share their sorrows, hopes, and joys, and he tells the King what he deems necessary... Diarmad remembered the old texts quite clearly.

Impatiently pushing those unwanted thoughts away, he resolutely grabbed the dreaded file and opened it. This whole conflict between the McLeans and the two Twin Springs clans felt wrong. He could almost smell the deceit, only nothing could be proven. Yet.

The other day, Noël had practically ambushed him while he was walking Henry. After some prodding, Diarmad had finally given in and talked with him about the upcoming negotiations, as all his so-called reasons for not asking him home no longer applied. Diarmad admitted with Noël by his side as the King’s mate and first telepath, everything could be over very quickly, and they would learn the real reasons behind all this.

Nico stood under the hot water pouring from the showerhead, and thought about what brought him back to live with Diarmad, even though their future was uncertain. After weeks of mourning Kris' death and feeling alone and drained, he had finally come out of it and started to think about what Kris had said to him the day he knew he was going to die: You are still in love with Diarmad.

The words had struck him like a physical blow. As much as he wanted to deny it, Kris had spoken the truth. Nico smiled wistfully. Kris knew him better than he knew himself.

Kris and he had clicked the moment they'd met in Professor Wagner's class when Kris had scooted over a seat to make room for always-late-Noël. After the disaster with Diarmad, Kris' unconditional support and friendship had picked him up after Diarmad discarded him.

Their love evolved slowly. Yes, he really had loved Kris and still did. It had been a calm love based on their genuine friendship. They had so much in common, thought so much alike, it had been a logical decision to share their dreams and build a life and business together.

It hurt to lose Kris, and a part of his heart would always belong to him.

His love for Diarmad, on the other hand, was full of antagonism; he had been young and everything happened so fast-- too fast. Diarmad had been so infuriating, so sure of himself, of his position in life. Nico had to poke at that from time to time, had to try and shake this confidence. He grinned. They'd kept each other on their proverbial toes. Nothing had been easy; even in bed they'd fought for dominance, but admittedly, he had loved the challenge; life had never been boring with Diarmad.

Behind all the wrangling and scrambling though, he had thought the man had his back as he had Diarmad’s. Maybe that was what had hurt so much when Diarmad rejected him; his trust had been obliterated. Now he was ashamed he never questioned how Diarmad's whole personality changed so fast. In hindsight, everything was obvious.

He hadn’t been able to meditate until after he’d accepted Kris’s death. Long talks with Isao had helped him — they still did. Now, he might be able to embrace what everyone else around him seemed to already know; he still had feelings for Diarmad, and he might want to explore those feelings, he didn’t dare call love, right now. The past couldn't be changed, only the future, a simple truth that had taken him an embarrassingly long time to see.

And while he was facing truths, there was another one; his mate hadn't come out of this unscathed. How could he? Diarmad was the king; the one people referred to when they had problems, when they needed guidance. He had been in control and felt secure enough to relinquish this control sometimes, to trust others, to rely on them to take care. This security had been taken away from him and so had his ability to trust, to feel. Consequently, he had detached himself from his friends, from his people, had built a wall around himself as he had lost his confidence in telling friend from foe.

Everyone was talking about how much the king cared, helped, and visited every clan regardless of how remote they lived. Nico, however, thought how exhausting it must be to give, never to be the one cared for, to be Diarmad the man, because he couldn't trust anymore and let go.

Knowing how stubborn Diarmad was, Nico knew he couldn't just appear on his doormat saying 'Hi, I'm back.' He needed a good reason, which he had now with the upcoming negotiations. After he saw the man in person, he decided all his theorizing passed the reality check. Therefore, while covering himself in suds, he made a plan.

A. Make him see you. B. Show him you care. C. Show him he can rely on you. D. Make him want you. E. Find out if he still loves you. F. Fight for him. G. Make an appearance with a bang. H. Never accept no. I. If necessary, play dirty. J. The order of point A to J is mandatory.

Standing in front of his closet, Nico inspected the material he had to work with. Grinning, he dropped the towel he'd slung around his hips and touched his mating mark before he wiggled into his attire for the day. On his way downstairs, he mentally checked his plan: A. check; D. check; E. check, the piano room was proof enough; G. check; points B, F,H, I and J--still working on.

Diarmad sat at the kitchen table with the morning paper and a large plate of toast, bacon, eggs, and hash browns as Noël came in. He didn't have to look to know it was his mate.

He heard the fridge open and close and knew Noël was still in the room, despite his not having said a word. He couldn't contain himself any longer--no doubt exactly as Noël had planned--then he looked up and groaned inwardly.

His mate leaned with his back against the stainless steel fridge door, bare-chested, showing off well-defined pecs adorned with caramel colored nipples. The top button of his cut-offs was open, giving a nice view of taut abdominal muscles, alluring hipbones, and his mating mark. Noël tipped his head back and drank the orange juice right from the container. Seeing him swallow... his Adam’s apple bopping up and down his long throat... every part of him a tempting sin. Damn him.

Diarmad closed his eyes, trying to collect himself. He had not cussed so much in decades as he had in the past week. His mate’s mocking teal eyes and warm laughter followed him around wherever he went, even if Noël wasn't there in person. His enticing body, so different from his teenage form, yet familiar, more developed, more beautiful, popped up in his inner eye at the worst moments. Probably because he flaunted it every chance he could—appropriate or not. And if that hadn’t been enough, the image of what he saw a few days ago when Noël changed into his board shorts right in front of him... sprang into his mind. He had a piercing--a Goddamn Prince Albert. Diarmad moaned and almost smacked his head on the table.

Well, at least it had answered the question of what Noël had gotten for Kris that hurt. He had asked himself that over and over since he heard him and Kris making out in his library during Ronan's son's naming ceremony. Goddamn it, he could not concentrate on anything else lately. The negotiations, clan business, court appointments... What the hell?

He knew what Noël was up to, and it was tearing him apart; his heart seized in his chest at the thought. Noël wanted them back together, but it couldn't happen. He couldn’t feel anything anymore; he was a wreck, a shell. Noël deserved something better than that, something better than him.

Noël was back. But it wasn’t as if he could stay; after the negotiations he would be gone again.

Then Noël licked the juice from his lips thoroughly, while making eye contact with him, and Diarmad couldn't take it any longer. He jumped from the chair with so much force it tumbled over. He didn't care. With two steps, he stood in front of Noël and slapped the juice carton out of his hands. It crashed against the wall, the spray hitting their legs. He didn't notice.

Standing only two inches apart, he yelled, "Why are you doing this? What are you trying to prove? That you can still get me all riled up? That I cannot resist you? Damn you!" He grabbed Noël by his wrists, held them high above his head, and shoved him with his body against the fridge, so he couldn't move.

With their groins pressed together, he could feel Noël's hard-on, and he was sure Noël could feel his. Damn. He panted, their breaths mingled, and then he crushed their mouths together in a kiss that was meant to bruise, to punish. Their teeth clanked together; he bit Noël's lower lip until he tasted blood, then ran his tongue over it soothingly a moment later, only to invade the sinful mouth by thrusting his tongue into it as far as he could. He wasn't gentle; he wanted to dominate Noël, mark him. His.

At the same time, his mind screamed at him to stop, to get away from Noël--his warm, wet mouth, the seductive taste of his blood... Conflicting emotions raged inside him, but all Diarmad could do was move his body into Noël’s and savor the sweet taste of the man beneath him. His mate.

Henry's happy barking made him come back to his senses. Someone is coming. He let go of Noël abruptly and stepped back. Seeing his mate's swollen lips with the small droplet of blood on them, his flushed face, and his fast breathing, made Diarmad ashamed of himself. Without another word, he turned and stormed out of the kitchen.

Nico shook his head and slowly ran a finger over his abused lips; a slow smile appeared when he licked the drop of blood from his finger. It wasn't just his blood. Yes! Gotcha!

They had been dancing around each other for days. Well he had done the dancing... or at least the leading until the king finally took over. Nico grinned. Then he walked over to the broom closet to get out a mop and the cleaning supplies. Eew, sticky OJ. So worth it.

"What the hell happened to my kitchen? And why is the king storming through the house leaving behind sticky footprints?"

Nico turned around and smirked at Ivan, who stood in the doorframe with his hands on his hips. "I irritated the bull?"

"Oh? Do tell." Diligently avoiding any puddles of juice, Ivan grabbed a kitchen chair, flipped it around so he could sit backwards, and folded his arms on top of the backrest.

"Yeah well, I just came into the kitchen to drink some OJ, and suddenly he jumped me, slapped the container out of my hand, and um, kissed me?" Nico collected the mop and a rag, trying to wipe away juice from his legs and shorts. "I guess I need a shower, huh?"

Ivan gave his boss' mate a once-over, then raised an eyebrow. "You were in such a hurry to get something to drink you forgot to close your pants?"

Nico grinned. "I was very thirsty?"

"Go take a shower," Ivan stated, then added, "and put some more clothes on."

Diarmad fumed. He wasn’t sure what angered him more, Noël's little stunt, or his reaction to it. Reaching his rooms, he slammed the door shut behind him and headed right for the bathroom where he twisted the taps of the shower to get the water going. He peeled himself out of his sticky clothes, stepped under the spray, and sighed.

His mate managed to aggravate him like no one in his entire life had before. Closing his eyes, he ran his hands through his hair and over his body, which promptly triggered the vision of a half-naked Noël leaning against the fridge, swallowing down his juice as if it were the sweetest nectar. The sweetest nectar... He groaned, God, the pictures that came into his mind... Had it been wishful thinking or had he actually seen a glimpse of Noël's piercing peeking out the 'V' of his half-open shorts... Damn. He wanted his mate. All of him. Badly.

With hot water flowing over his body, washing away his irritation, Diarmad was slowly able to think again. This had only been lust, nothing more. Lust, and the mating bond. Yes. He shut the water off and stepped out of the shower. Noël deserved more; he needed a man able to love him, to care and protect him from whatever might happen, not a damaged person like himself, unable to feel deeply, and who would only hurt him again in the end. Drying his hair with a towel, he looked in the mirror and frowned. A repetition of what happened must be avoided; I have to keep my distance from him from now on.

After the incident in the kitchen, at least that was what Ivan called it, they agreed it was better for Nico to lay low for a while, which meant no more provocative clothes and no more innuendos during meals. The last one was easy enough, because Diarmad took every meal in his room. From the few words they exchanged though, Nico could tell his mate was agitated. This made the others walk on eggshells around their king, and one day an exasperated Ronan asked, "Wanna tell me what you did now?"

Nico only waggled his eyebrows, and Ronan shook his head, murmuring, "High school never ends. I want Becca."

Nico sat on the bed with his legs crossed, humming and jotting down music notes on a sheet of paper he had on his knees. The idea for a new song had been jumping around in his head for days, but he couldn't just go and get the key for the piano room, and his guitar was still on Simon and Landyn's boat. This was all he could do for now.

He'd love to get himself a keyboard for his laptop, but his mate had asked him--through Ivan, of course--to stay on the premises and not go into town. Diarmad suspected as soon as the Smythes or the O'Gradys found out Nico was back, they wouldn't appear at the negotiations out of fear he would discover things they wouldn't want revealed.

Chewing on the end of his pencil, Nico winced when the door flew open and Ivan came in, Henry hot on his heels. "What's the rush?"

Ivan pointed at the dog. "He hates strangers in the house as much as his master." Setting a large plate with sandwiches and two bottles of water on the small table beside Nico's bed, he stated, "I thought I'd bribe you with a little snack before I tell you to stay in your room the entire day. The security people need more time than I thought to prepare all the rooms for our esteemed guests," the last he said in a disparaging voice. "Henry wanted to keep you company."

"Uh huh, Henry, yes?" Nico snapped up his papers just in time before Henry pushed his big head in his lap. "Sheesh, Henry!" When the dog showed his best puppy eyes, Nico raised his eyebrows, "What?" Then he saw the bag with Henry's treats dangling from Ivan's hand. "Awww, you only want one thing from me. Greedy dog. I wish your master would look at me like that." Henry wagged his tail.

"And wag his tail?" Ivan settled himself on the chair beside Nico’s bed, licking his lips suggestively.

"That too. But it seems Mr. Prissy-Pants has gone into hiding." Nico grabbed a sandwich from the plate and rolled his eyes.

"Mr. Prissy-Pants, huh? That's a new one. Don't let him hear it though, or anyone else for that matter. The name will stick." Ivan leaned forward to take a sandwich when he noticed Nico staring at him. "What?"

"Do you have a tattoo, right there?" he pointed at a spot on Ivan's chest right above his heart, "Crossed Japanese swords? A nihontō and a wakizashi?"

"No, I don't have any tattoos. The first Japanese swords I ever saw were yours. Why would I have a tat with them?" Ivan asked, surprised.

Nico blinked rapidly. He'd just seen a tattoo with crossed Japanese swords on Ivan's left pectoral muscle; he had even seen a sprinkle of blond hair. Then he blinked and it was gone. What the hell? And it hit him. That wasn't a tattoo; that was a mating mark. And then Sho's face appeared in his mind; he saw him clearly, standing right in front of him, as if he were here, in his bedroom. Sho is Ivan's mate. Shit!

"Um... just a thought. It would look good on you." Whew! How could this happen? How could he suddenly know Sho was Ivan's mate? His Gran had been in the Order; they recognized human mates and introduced them to their Seraei partner. Could it be that simple? Could he have inherited this ability from his Gran? He had to ask Diarmad... or better yet, Landyn when he came back the following week.

He looked closer at the tall man sitting comfortably in the chair beside him, munching on his sandwich, and tried to imagine him being mated with his friend, Sho. He had to smile at the thought. Ivan was as tall as Sho was small. He guessed he was at least six-foot two, while Sho topped five-foot six, max. Ivan was all long legs with sinewy muscles, built, but not bulky. He could imagine him running for miles without tiring. The one thing that really stood out though, beside his unusual light-green eyes, was his waist-long blond hair, which he usually kept in a tight braid.

And then there was Sho--short, jet-black, spiky hair, almost black eyes, button nose, slim body. Sho was fast, even though he was human, when he fought with his swords. Nobody stood a chance against him, even other Seraei. Only Nico came close, probably because Tristan had been an experienced swordfighter too.

"So Ivan, I have a question about finding your mate. How do you know you won't meet him at home, but have to stay away from your clan? Isn't that unusual for a McLean?"

Ivan looked at him at length, narrowed his eyes, then put his half-eaten sandwich aside. "What I tell you now cannot leave this room. The only people who know about this are my father and my king."

Noël nodded. "Okay, you have my word."

"You know every Seraei has certain abilities, which depends on their family or, in the case of former humans, on their Seraei mate. For example, my whole family can cast fire, and everybody has telepathic abilities. Not like yours of course, but not weak either. Some develop a third, and a few even have a fourth ability. Some can heal, others can soothe agitated people. You, as the king's mate, have his telepathic abilities, but you seem to have an innate talent for this; this is why you are such a strong telepath. You're also an empath and have telekinetic powers, right?"

Nico nodded.

"Did I forget something? Energy bursts, like the king? Sometimes we discover a special talent when we get older...." Ivan looked at him questioningly.

Nico cringed then admitted hesitatingly, "There might be one I only discovered recently."

Ivan cocked his head. "Oh?"

"I don't wanna talk about it, not yet." Perhaps it was nothing. Yeah, sure.

"That's okay." Ivan put his hand on Nico’s thigh soothingly, and then leaned back into his chair. "Well, so I can cast fire, am a telepath, and have the sight—"

Nico stopped mid-bite. "The sight? As in seeing the future?"

“I will never live with my clan; that's also the reason I can never be my clan's next leader as my father is now. This will fall upon my younger brother. The sight is a rare power, similar to your strength in telepathy. I personally don't know of anyone else among the Seraei who has this talent besides me, nor does the king or my father." Ivan watched Nico closely, trying to gauge if he believed him or not. When he saw not disbelief but determination, he felt strangely relieved.

"The power is weak right now; I saw some things though, mainly about my own future, which I found quite strange at first. I know I will find my mate while serving my king, and after I find him, my sight will become much stronger. Then there is this strong need to stay with my king to protect him, but I won’t be alone. A group of vicious warriors will join me in this task. In olden times, you would have called them the king's guard.”

"Holy shit." Then realization hit Nico. "Fuck! Diarmad is in danger... we are here to protect him. Landyn, Ronan, and Simon are the vicious fighters?"

He searched for confirmation of his surmise in Ivan's face, who promptly nodded. "That's what I'm thinking also."

"Did you tell the king?"

"No."

"Shit!" Then Nico smiled. "There will be a fourth though."

"A fourth?"

"Guard, a fourth fighter. Your mate."

"My mate? How do you know this?"

"Let's just say I have special sight too."

Later that night, Nico called Sho and told him the king had suggested he needed some more sword training. When Sho hesitated, he also told him they needed a fighter to protect the king. He went to bed knowing in three days he could send Ivan to the airport to pick up his Japanese sword trainer, who was also his mate.

Thank you @Valkyrie for being my filler killer and for all the 'that needs a lot of rewording' remarks.  
 
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