no one else, a count cain: god child fanfic

This would be my first Cain fic, another limey one-shot. :P Minor spoilers for up to Volume 6 [the Black Sheep arc] I think... even though I haven't actually finished the series. It would probably take place somewhere in the middle of the series, perhaps before the said chapter. ^_^ I just wanted to include a scene with a cemetery and the fic just popped out. Shounen-ai, angsty-ish... sort of a "day in the life" kinda fic. RiffxCain. Homophobes, beware. Many thanks to Sakura-Crisis.net, for without their wonderful scanlations, I would never have been able to see this great manga!

No One Else

A Count Cain fanfiction

By The Catalyzed

I would shatter my dreams
End my life
If just to see you smile.

By the sparkling pocket watch dangling from his sleeve, the hour was about half past five. The crimson sun was setting beneath the clouds and outside the carriage door; the world was passing by so quickly. So noted the young dark-haired man with calculating golden eyes, and cupping his chin in one hand, he sighed.

"Riff."

"Yes sir?"

"We're almost there. I do believe Merry--"

Without further ado, the valet nudged the fair-haired girl leaning against her brother's shoulder awake. Merryweather stirred slowly, blinking, yawning, smoothing out her ruffled taffeta. "Mm... Are we there yet?"

"Well..." Cain poked his head out the open window. The neigh of a steed was heard briefly and the carriage came to a halt. "Now we are."

With a click, Riff opened the door and took out his umbrella. Standing in the steady drizzle, he offered a hand to Cain and his sister as they stepped down the carriage. Merry was unusually quiet that afternoon. Usually she would frolic around trying to catch rainwater on her tongue, splash in puddles, or gather up posies of wildflowers however damp. Cain was rather wearied of reminding Merry that her galoshes were ruined by mud, and all this would eventually result in a tantrum and another teddy bear for the little girl's collection.

Now she was silent as a stone.

As silent as the marble stones in the little garden that the three were entering.

While out in London, Merry had bought a bundle of pink lilies wrapped in translucent paper. She stepped lightly through the patches of grass and the stone angels carved looking towards the heavens in grief. Merry finally stopped before one at the corner of the lot, and ran her hand over the simple engravings. No fancy lettering; simply Alegra Flora Duke, Beloved Mother and two dates. "I found it." She piped up and looked back on her brother and butler wistfully.

Riff cleared his throat. "If I may ask, why is Ms. Merryweather's mother resting here and not at the Hargreaves family crypt?"

Merry glared at him, and then softened her gaze back to the gravestone. "When Mother died she left me all alone. E-Eric and I saved up all my fortune-telling money to pay for the burial. I certainly didn't want her to sleep in one of those mass graves like a regular pauper." She turned up her chin indignantly, but in a moment her bravado fizzled and brought a hand to her lips. "Eric! I forgot that...He's buried here too. I'll visit him as well...after Mother."

Cain and Riff exchanged looks of sadness and knowledge. Merry looked down on the white tomb for a few more moments, then ruddy-cheeked, timidly tugged at the end of her brother's dark cloak.

"Um...Big Brother? Is it all right if you and Riff leave me alone?"

"Be our guests." Cain stepped back courteously, and walked to another end of the little cemetery, and Riff took his cue to follow. Merryweather gathered up the ends of her petticoat so that they wouldn't dip into the rain puddles and clutching her umbrella, laid the bundle of blossoms in front of the grave. She ran her fingers over the engraving once more and smiled sadly. Cain could faintly hear her voice over the din of falling rain as he stepped away; words which made his heart sink.

"Hello Mother, it's me, Merry. Happy Birthday."

"I'm so envious of Merry." Cain mumbled, his golden green eyes resting on the petite figure of Merryweather conversing with a carved block of stone. He watched her smiling lips chatter away, though occasionally she'd pause and wipe her face of stray tears. Of course; Merry was still pure and young. She'd only been of the Hargreaves clan for less than a year. She wasn't that used to losing people she knew and loved.

Riff hesitated, and wound his long arms around Cain's shoulders, pulling him closer to him so he would be sheltered from the rain under his umbrella. It was a simple justifiable action, but Riff's hands were trembling and it wasn't from the cold.

"She... must be feeling quite sad right now, Master Cain."

"Her mother killed herself too, yet she had a mother who loved her." He said in a matter-of-fact, yet dazed voice as if he hadn't heard Riff. His eyes darkened. "Her completely sane mother died because she loved her." As an afterthought he turned and looked Riff in the eye with a strange look on his face and added, "I wonder how that feels like."

"Master Cain..."

"Forgive me, I'm not myself. This is why I hate graveyards, but Merryweather insisted since she seems to do this every year. Places like this only serve to remind me how many people leave me... If I had to visit them all I'd grow old going from one grave to the next...I beg your pardon Riff...I said I wouldn't cry anymore but--"

Riff felt his chest twist. Cain was crying. Crying. He stepped away a bit and turned his head towards the clouds like the cherubs of stone around them, letting the raindrops wash away his tears. Feeling slightly bold and a little desperate, Riff reached out and cupped his hand beneath his chin and pointed Cain's face towards his own.

A pair of golden eyes like two sparkling, tear-soaked oceans looked up at him, so different from the sharp, intelligent orbs he was used to. His eyes were that hue of golden green because of his origins as a child of incest... they said his existence was a horrible sin.

Yet now... they were so...

Beautiful.

Riff couldn't believe himself. If he were completely in control of himself then, he would have scoffed at his own daring. But the rain was falling all around them, and Cain had not looked as helpless and stricken since that day five years ago when he poisoned his father and let Riff comfort him. Gently he took him in his arms and embraced him, Cain's face pressing against his chest.

"You should never think that your existence is a stain. Never ever think or say that, master Cain. Never. So if you please don't cry."

"Riff..." His voice was like a whisper in the night.

"Brother?"

The effect of Merry's attention was immediate. They pulled away in the blink of an eye. The young count immediately cleared his throat and turned his head up. Riff looked innocently at the ground. Merryweather looked at Cain, then Riff and blinked. "What were you--?"

"Have you finished yet Merry?" Cain's voice came levelly as always, but Riff couldn't see his face.

"Well, yes... I talked to Mother quite a lot. I told her all about living on the Manor and Big Brother and Riff... but what were you really---?"

"It's nearly time for supper. Shall we head for home?"

"Ah...okay." She replied. She looked confusedly at the two of them but closed her mouth and bid the graveyard goodbye. Time and again she'd peer at the two of them and Riff felt blood rush to his face, imagining the wheels in Merry's brain turning and turning.

I just hope her psychic powers won't aid her in this one.

Like clockwork, he'd worked. Every night he made dinner at quarter past seven and when they were done he ran his master's bath. It was like the tea. The bath was one of the things only Riff could do perfectly. He alone knew the perfect temperature, the perfect amount of bath oil, the right kind of towels, everything.

He dipped his hand in the water, swirling around the suds. The sound of the bathroom door behind him opening and closing behind him makes his shoulders stiffen. He turned around. Cain stared back at him with the usual curious, devilish look in his eyes, noticed Riff's nervous, embarrassed look, and shook his head. He marched over to the valet and motioned for him to help him with his tie.

"I'm sorry." Riff said simply and concentrated as hard he could on the knot of silk. It was slightly rumpled from being worn all day but when he'd tied it that morning it had been perfect. Perfect.

"Did I ask you to be?"

"I acted out of line, sir." He opened his mouth to get some air for more apologies yet Cain put two fingers on his lips to close them.

"Do you remember what I told Uncle Neil when he objected to you becoming my steward?"

Riff felt taken aback, the memory failing him. Cain nonchalantly continued to disrobe, and on instinct Riff turned his gaze away to the delicate oil painting at the corner. Yes, he thought. His thoughts were coming slowly, but he now remembered a younger Cain smiling on a table chatting with a disgruntled Uncle Neil sipping a cup of tea.

"I told him that the tea was delicious because I wouldn't let anyone else but you make it for me. And I'll never let anyone else make it for me, even now."

Languidly, Cain stepped into the bath, humming the tune of one of Merry's nursery rhymes. He relaxed into the perfumed water, and closed his eyes. "Perfect.", he breathed. "Just the way I like it. Without you I would not survive. I would not be me. You always know exactly what I need. You are all I need."

Riff was quiet. He wasn't sure what to do, or what to say. Feeling embarrassed, he decided to escape for the moment to get some fresh towels from the cabinet and excused himself. Cain watched him with a wry smile.

As he passed to hang the towels on the rack next to him and was about to go get the soap and shampoo, he felt a slender white hand touch him on the wrist. He froze. He was fingering the jagged scar, from that harrowing time when he thought everything was over. When he tried to commit suicide and woke up bandaged in a white room. He was pulling him closer and he was kissing it.

"Master Cain, what are you doing?"

The warm wetness of his tongue made Riff flinch, and unconsciously the blush crept back in his cheeks. Cain shrugged and licked the length on the long scar, feeling the depth of that old wound. "I believe I'm trying to seduce you."

Stunned silence.

"You know, you could help me out here by taking off your clothes and getting in this tub with me. I think it's big enough for two. "

More stunned silence.

"And by the way, this isn't an order Riff."

He was sucking the tips of his fingers. He was nibbling on them one by one.

"It's a request."

Riff didn't know what to say, what to do. His heart was pounding and pounding. Cain was smiling at him with his demonic smile. How he hated that beautiful, devilish smile. It had taken him captive. It had taken him captive long ago.

"Would you have me beg?"

Early morning. White. Endless light streaming from an open window. Luxurious sheets greeted the touch of his fingertips, the tall hand-carved poles of the four-poster cast shadows on the pillowcases. A gentle breeze ruffled Riff's golden hair, carrying with it the scent of pine trees outside.

"I'm never going to feel sorry for myself again. Such nonsense, that curse. In this moment how can I be cursed?"

He pulled himself to a seating position, squinting at the source of the voice and the light. Riff's eyes still felt heavy. He felt like he had fallen into a dream, hard, and the fall had been all pain. Yet it was excruciatingly sweet. The young count stood looking out the open window, his silhouette glinting in the sunlight.

"Look how lucky I am."

Master Cain He smiled and got out of bed, treading softly on the marble floors. At the sound of the valet's footsteps, his head turned ever so slightly and his hauntingly beautiful eyes locked onto his. He wasn't smiling but there was a serene, contented glitter on those eyes. Riff took him in his arms, burying his face into the back of Cain's neck.

"I have you."

There was silence before Riff timidly spoke up. "Shall I make you breakfast, my lord Cain?" He closed his eyes, feeling the soft scent of Cain's hair and the pine fresh morning breeze wash over him, the warmth he felt from Cain's lithe body pressing against him bathe him like the glistening sunlight.

"I'd like that...but only if no one else but you make it for me. I'd like that very much."