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- 07/04/2016
- 1,019 Words
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Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
Caesura - 1. Chapter 1
Chapter One – Kristof
Noël had called Landyn from school to tell him he would bring home a friend─Kristof Sorenson. They wanted to work on their presentation. Even though security measures were less strict after McGill’s apprehension about a year ago, Landyn still wanted the name and address of every new visitor, so he could check their background. He hadn’t found anything suspicious about Kristof, yet he felt a strange sense of trepidation when he went to open the door.
Instead of the anticipated evil, he found Noël doubled over in laughter beside a grinning young male with short blond curls, and he thought maybe he was just too used to always suspecting the worst, a hazard that came with the job as head of security.
“Hi, I’m Kristof.” Their gazes met, and recognition flickered over the boy’s face. “We met before, right?”
Landyn couldn’t help but smile back. “Yes, at Paolo’s Pizza Place. I used to work there.” Dismissing any lingering bad feelings as nonsense, he stepped back and let the boys enter the hall. “Please come in.”
“You wouldn’t believe how perfectly Kristof imitates Professor Wagner, including this silly head move the man does all the time.” Noël cuffed his friend in the side. “Go on. Show him.”
Kristof blushed, but then he and looked down at his feet, but then stretched his neck, and jerked his head around as if he were a chicken looking for corn. When his gaze found Noël, he inclined his head to the right and made some odd snuffling sound with his nose, before looking at an imaginary wristwatch. “You’re late, Carmichael. Again.”
Noël burst out with laughter. “Wagner, the pissed off rooster.”
Shaking his head, Landyn gave Noël’s shoulder a squeeze. “All right, boys. Have fun with your presentation.” Considering all the things that happened last year, he was relieved to see Noël finally acting his age.
Smiling to himself, he went back into the living room where he had left the duty roster of his security teams on the coffee table, when he heard Noël’s eager voice in the hallway. “Come on, I’ll show you the amenities.”
In the next hour, laughter came from the hallway repeatedly. “Has to be an interesting project.” Landyn muttered to himself.
“Where is Noël? I thought I heard him a while ago.”
Diarmad’s sharp voice made Landyn instantly get up from the sofa, so he could give his king a short bow. “He came home with a friend an hour ago, my lord.”
“A friend.”
Landyn cringed. No one had informed Diarmad about the visitor, and on top of that, Noël hadn’t gone to his mate, as he usually did, when he came home. “Yes, Kristof Sorenson. I checked his background. He is okay. They are working on a project, a presentation I believe.” Just then, loud laughter sounded from Noël‘s room.
“Work. I see.” Without another word, the King went back to the study, closing the door behind himself with more force than actually necessary.
Landyn could have kicked himself. Diarmad had been unusually irritable the last few weeks. He should have known this wouldn’t go over well and made a mental note to remind Noël to go to his mate as soon as he comes home from school next time. He also needed to introduce any friends he brings to the house.
Just then the door sprang open. “It’s in here.” Noël bounded into the room. “Oh! Hey, Landyn, sorry. I didn’t know you were working here. Do you mind if I show Kristof my piano before he goes home?” He motioned for Kristof to come closer. “There it is, isn’t it beautiful?” He went over to the instrument, opened the lid, and ran one finger lovingly over its keys.
“Wow! I admit I had my doubts, when you said you have a Steinway.”
“Do you want me to play something for you?” Noël already sat on the piano bench, eagerly looking through his sheet music.
“Totally.”
“What do you want me to play?”
Kristof shrugged. “I don’t know, whatever you want.”
Noël had no problem with that. He played some classic pieces, a few rock ballads, and finally ‘Für Elise’ because it was one of Diarmad’s favorites. Then he eyed Kristof, who was absentmindedly running his hand over the glossy, black finish of the top board. “Wanna play something together?”
“Really?”
“Sure.” He scooted over to make room on the piano bench, and Kristof sat down beside Noël. After some minor coordination issues, they started to play Chopsticks. Until Noël deliberately switched to the Flea Waltz.
Kristof elbowed his ribs. “That isn’t Chopsticks, moron.”
Noël fake-fell from the bench, landing on the floor with a loud thud, laughing hysterically. “You pushed me!”
“I did not!”
“You did too.”
“What is going on here, Noël?” Silver flashing through his eyes, Diarmad stood in the door frame of his study, glaring furiously at his mate. “You know I am working at this hour of the day, right?” Then his gaze fell on Kristof. “And who is this? I believe we have not been introduced yet.”
Kristof hastily scrambled up from his seat, holding his hand out. “I-I’m sorry, sir, Mr. Carmichael. My name is Kristof Sorenson.”
Diarmad completely ignored Kristof’s outstretched hand. His gaze was still fixed on Noël. “This was not music but noise. Awful noise.”
It was as if Noël didn't register the degree of his lover’s anger. Slowly getting to his feet, he grinned. “Aww, D, come on. That’s Kristof, a friend from school. We’re doing a project together. I told him about the piano and he wanted to see it. I’m sorry if we got a little carried away …” Laughter was still clinging to his voice.
“You’re going to stop this nonsense instantly.” With that, Diarmad turned around and shut the door behind him, leaving everyone in stunned silence.
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Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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