Note: Plot Bunnies Attack Once Again! I will still be working on Lost and Found and Forgotten, but it's not my fault I'm such a scatterbrain. And when you're in Study and you've got issue eight of Godchild on you, well... Things get a bit... crazy. Especially when you're a yaoi crazed maniac like I am. SO! Riff is a bit OoC, as anyone would be a little twitchy after having a naked teenage boy dive on you and wake you up. XD
I don't own Count Cain, nor will I ever. Not unless I somehow come up with enough money to buy the franchise off of Kaori Yuki. Since that's not going to happen...
Chapter One: Ungodly Hours
Riff barely had time to blink before there was a sudden crash and his young, raven-haired master came barging into his room, completely naked save for socks and slippers, as the maids and servants outside squeaked in surprise and giggled.
"Riff!" Cain nearly shrieked as he barreled himself into his ivory-haired manservant.
"OOF!" was all poor Riff had time to say before his lungs were suddenly crushed.
"Riff! Oh, I had the worst dream. It felt so bloody real. It was awful. I could swear I was dying." Cain blathered rapidly, his golden-green eyes wide and fearful, but blinking rapidly. Riff managed to find his breath long enough to choke out, "Would you like to talk about it, sir?"
That statement got Cain going again, and this time there was no shutting him up.
"Oh, Riff! I was a bird in the sky and I was just flying along, la la la la la, when suddenly I get hit from the side and I fall and I look and there's a hunter with a gun and I'm all 'Oh no! I got shot!' and I look closer--"
"I was the hunter, is that what you were going to say?" Riff cut Cain off mid-sentence.
"Oh, well... yes. How did you--"
"Sir, you realize you burst into my room nearly three or four times a week, sometimes more, with this exact same dream?"
"Oh. Oh. Do I?"
"Yes, sir."
"Oh. Well, no need to be so tart about it."
"Master Cain, I love you more than anything, you know this, but it's far past midnight and I haven't slept in days. Days, Master Cain. You can stay here with me if you wish but I really need to sleep."
Cain made an annoyed sound and pouted, thin, pale arms crossed over a thin, pale chest.
"Master..."
"No need, Riff. I can tell when I'm not wanted." Cain got up and made a twitchy, "I-really-will-leave-and-never-come-back" motion towards the door.
Riff sighed in exasperation and seized Cain's arm, dragging the scarred teen back towards his bed. He wrapped the blankets around them both, and gave Cain a look that clearly stated, "You are the master but you forget I am larger and easily twice your strength. Now go to sleep." Of course, it was silent, but the message got through to Cain.
A maid, one of many that Cain had forgotten the name of, poked her head in to see if anything was amiss.
"Sirs? Any trouble?"
Cain shook his head silently. The maid nodded curtly and left, realizing by know that she'd worked for the Hargreaves for nearly twelve years now and if she didn't know that Cain was a little disturbed in the head, she was obviously a fool. Every servant knew Cain wasn't "all there" sometimes. Usually they just ignored it, unless somebody ended up injured or dead. Then they acted the whole "Oh noes! Someone died!" routine. But even then, they were probably faking it. All they wanted was a paycheck and a place to sleep at the end of the day.
But of course Riff wasn't getting to sleep now. Cain was still all wound up.
"Riff...?"
"Yes, sir." Riff answered shortly, annoyed that he had once again been woken by his young master.
"You won't really get a gun and shoot me, will you?"
"Of course not, master Cain. I care for you far too much."
"But even if I were a little bird? Just an insignificant little bird, whose life is merely short and bitter?"
"Birds are as important as people are, master Cain. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise."
"But I--"
"I'm not going to shoot you, my dear master. I don't even own a gun. All the guns are in the shed and only you have keys to get in there."
"I just get scared, sometimes."
"I know."
Cain snuggled deeper into the warm heat of Riff's chest.
"Just promise you won't shoot me."
"I promise, Master Cain." Riff replied dutifully. By now the clock had just chimed one and Riff was about ready to hit his young Master over the head with said clock in order to get both to stop making noise and allow him to sleep. Normally the stoic manservant would obey his master without a thought and put his own life on the line for him. But it was one in the morning.
Almost every single night this happened. Riff was seriously considering just moving Cain's bed into his room.
"So Riff..."
Riff sighed loudly, and annoyedly. Cain shot him an icy glare. "ANYWAY, Riff. I was going to ask if you always sleep in such a twisted position. Your legs are crushing my pelvis, it seems."
Riff looked down and shifted enough for Cain to get comfortable. He mumbled an apology and tried to sleep once again.
"Riff...?" Came the quiet, yet still oh god it was one in the morning please SHUT UP Master Cain! voice.
"Yes... Master Cain?"
"I love you. Goodnight."
"I love you too. Goodnight."
Finally Riff got his sleep.
He awoke the next morning to find himself thoroughly wrapped around his young master, both men in an awkward and potentially painful position if Riff squirmed about too much.
Cain woke right after him, realizing what this looked like.
"Oh. Oh. Hello, Riff." Cain said awkwardly, putting a pained grin on his face. For you see, Riff's left knee was digging straight into his crotch, a place where he'd really not rather have his manservant's knee.
"Cain." Riff replied, with a twitch of his eyebrow that only meant he was terribly tired and somewhat annoyed.
"Perhaps I should untangle you and pull you downstairs, Brother?" Cain snapped his head around to see a pink-faced Mary Weather, giggling into her hands and stifling her laughter.
"Perhaps. Or perhaps you can leave us alone and go do... little... girl things." Cain replied cheekily, stretching and arching his back, unwittingly pushing his crotch deeper onto Riff's knee. Riff finally realized exactly what his leg was digging into. He suddenly brushed bright scarlet, and bit his lip to avoid making any sound.
"Oh, come, now Brother. It's breakfast time and you need to get up 'cause Oscar is coming by and 'member the last time you weren't dressed when he got there?"
"Oh Lord above, don't remind me."
FLASHBACK
"Hey Cain! I'm here--WHOA!"
"Oscar, get out of here!"
"Put some pants on, man!"
"Is it my fault you don't know the meaning of the term 'doorbell'?"
"Is it my fault I'm a goofball?"
"Yes!"
END FLASHBACK
Cain shivered at the memory. He looked up at Riff. "Well, perhaps Mary's right. Come on, then!" Cain sat up and removed himself from Riff's knee. Riff sucked in a gasp for air. His face returned to its normal color. He scrambled up, throwing on a robe and ushering Mary Weather out of the room.
"Well, should I dress?" Cain asked. "I mean, what's the harm in scaring the wits out of dear Oscar?"
"Sir, your wardrobe is on the other side of the manor..."
"Well, perhaps I should just appropriate some of your trousers, then, until we get there." Cain said innocently, but the look in his eyes was anything but.
"Oh? Oh, dear... " Riff muttered before throwing open his closet and realizing that he had forgotten to do his laundry the night before and therefore he had no pants for Cain to wear.
"Oh, this is a fine kettle of fish, eh?" Riff jumped as he heard Cain's voice whisk closely past his ear.
"Oh!" Riff flipped around to see Cain stretch, catlike, across his bed. His face went scarlet once again, and he gasped in air.
"What seems to be the trouble, Riff, dear? You look as though you've seen a ghost." Cain smirked.
"Sir, it's seven in the morning, I highly doubt you're--"
"Oh, Riff, you silly, silly man."
Cain began to saunter-- not walk, mind you, not even strut, but saunter, yes, saunter, up to Riff with a look in his eye that said "damn the time!" in a look that even Mary couldn't miss.
"Sir... er... I... oh dear, sir?"
"Dear Sir... I like that..." Cain began placing light kisses along Riff's chin and jaw. His hand traveled southward slowly, and Riff slowly crumpled backwards under the sheer weight of his own arousal and lust...
Riff shot up in bed, and cracked his head on the bedpost. His clock chimed two AM. He was scarlet red, covered in a fine sheen of sweat. And something else.
Riff took one look at the bed beneath him and groaned.
Another wet dream, Riff? Gods, no more coffee before bed for you. Like Master Cain would ever come onto you like that. Bloody hell, you're at least ten years older than the man. Jeez, just go rape a child, why don't you? Riff scolded himself harshly before slipping out of bed to go draw himself a warm bath. Hell, Cain's taken baths at two in the morning before, why not him?
End
A cutesy little one shot for the cutesy brain.