Oh dear.
Carl could hear the thunderous strides even from the other end of the corridor. He felt the urge to dive under the bench of his lab, or hide behind the curtains. He could hear the giant footsteps as they made their way to his door, and he could sense that the owner of the feet was not best pleased.
Just keep working, he told himself, trying to concentrate on the big bowl of powder in front of him. Keep working.
"Carl!"
Soon after the great roar of his name, the door was flung open to reveal Van Helsing, standing, towering in the doorway, his face a mask of anger.
"Back from the mission, then?" Carl asked, his voice unusually high-pitched. "Good trip, was it?"
Van Helsing stepped into the lab. Carl abandoned his plan of trying to look calm and collected and scrabbled backwards.
"Take that as a no, then," Carl muttered.
"You braindead little cretin of a friar-" began Van Helsing, striding forward.
"Let's not be too hasty," Carl said, backing up against the wall. "I don't even know what I've done wrong this time."
Van Helsing didn't answer. He just strode forward slowly but pointedly. Carl reached into the nearest tray and produced a pistol.
"I'll- I'll shoot you," Carl warned shakily, pointing it at Van Helsing.
Van Helsing stopped. "Only armed with cocoa beans, is it?"
Carl narrowed his eyes in suspicion. "Yes, actually. How did you know?"
"Because, you halfwit, you gave me the wrong bag of ammunition. My pistol was loaded with cocoa beans when I took on that bird woman. She thought it was hilarious... and gave me a mean scratch into the bargain." He pulled back his hair to reveal the dark wound on his neck.
Carl temporarily forgot his fear of Van Helsing and hurried forward, dropping the pistol and reaching out to touch the wound. He never quite reached it; Van Helsing grabbed him suddenly under the arms and lifted him so that their faces were at the same height. Needless to say, it was quite some distance from the ground for Carl.
"What am I going to do with you, eh?" Van Helsing asked in mock anger, but Carl could see the amusement in his warm eyes.
"Not... hurt me?" Carl suggested in a little yelp.
"Nah, you're too naughty for that. Did anyone ever tell you that they knew how much of an incredibly ticklish friar you are?" Van Helsing asked with a playful gleam in his eyes.
Carl's face paled. "Er... no?"
Van Helsing dumped him on the floor suddenly and began tickling Carl's sides. Carl roared with laughter and thrased madly, trying unsuccessfully to fight the larger man off. They ended up on the floor, Carl lying on his back, Gabriel leaning over him on his knees. Gabriel stopped suddenly.
"I am sorry," said Carl, looking at the scratch on Gabriel's neck with concern.
Gabriel shook his head, and was vaguely aware that his hair had just brushed Carl's cheek. His whole mind was focused on how close Carl's face was to his.
"Carl..." he said.
Carl felt pimply as Gabriel's breath tickled his cheek. What was he feeling? It was strange but somehow he knew the feeling in his heart had been there for a long time.
"What?" he asked gently.
"You've got... dried milk on your lips," Gabriel lied, stroking Carl's lips gently with his forefinger. He felt pleased when Carl gave a low moan and smiled.
"Gabriel?"
"Yes?" asked Gabriel, slowly removing his forefinger.
"I haven't had any milk for a whole week."
"Oh."
Gabriel felt his cheeks go scarlet.
"You look so cute when you blush," Carl teased.
"Give me something to really blush about then," Gabriel said back, only half joking.
He gasped in surprised as Carl grabbed the back of his head suddenly, jerking it down so that their lips were pressed together. Carl's lips were working- the smaller man was demanding entrance into Gabriel's mouth. Gabriel was all too happy to oblige. It was a long, sweet, passionate kiss, and when they drew apart, Gabriel found that his cheeks were flaming.
"You're blushing," Carl smirked.
"Or I'm ill, from the diseases in your mouth," retorted Gabriel.
He was saved from Carl's crushing comment by Cardinal Jinette calling for him from the end of the corridor. Casting Carl a final glance, Gabriel stood up and walked out.
-----------------------------------
I am going to continue this, I suppose, if I actually think of a plot. R&R please :D
Carl could hear the thunderous strides even from the other end of the corridor. He felt the urge to dive under the bench of his lab, or hide behind the curtains. He could hear the giant footsteps as they made their way to his door, and he could sense that the owner of the feet was not best pleased.
Just keep working, he told himself, trying to concentrate on the big bowl of powder in front of him. Keep working.
"Carl!"
Soon after the great roar of his name, the door was flung open to reveal Van Helsing, standing, towering in the doorway, his face a mask of anger.
"Back from the mission, then?" Carl asked, his voice unusually high-pitched. "Good trip, was it?"
Van Helsing stepped into the lab. Carl abandoned his plan of trying to look calm and collected and scrabbled backwards.
"Take that as a no, then," Carl muttered.
"You braindead little cretin of a friar-" began Van Helsing, striding forward.
"Let's not be too hasty," Carl said, backing up against the wall. "I don't even know what I've done wrong this time."
Van Helsing didn't answer. He just strode forward slowly but pointedly. Carl reached into the nearest tray and produced a pistol.
"I'll- I'll shoot you," Carl warned shakily, pointing it at Van Helsing.
Van Helsing stopped. "Only armed with cocoa beans, is it?"
Carl narrowed his eyes in suspicion. "Yes, actually. How did you know?"
"Because, you halfwit, you gave me the wrong bag of ammunition. My pistol was loaded with cocoa beans when I took on that bird woman. She thought it was hilarious... and gave me a mean scratch into the bargain." He pulled back his hair to reveal the dark wound on his neck.
Carl temporarily forgot his fear of Van Helsing and hurried forward, dropping the pistol and reaching out to touch the wound. He never quite reached it; Van Helsing grabbed him suddenly under the arms and lifted him so that their faces were at the same height. Needless to say, it was quite some distance from the ground for Carl.
"What am I going to do with you, eh?" Van Helsing asked in mock anger, but Carl could see the amusement in his warm eyes.
"Not... hurt me?" Carl suggested in a little yelp.
"Nah, you're too naughty for that. Did anyone ever tell you that they knew how much of an incredibly ticklish friar you are?" Van Helsing asked with a playful gleam in his eyes.
Carl's face paled. "Er... no?"
Van Helsing dumped him on the floor suddenly and began tickling Carl's sides. Carl roared with laughter and thrased madly, trying unsuccessfully to fight the larger man off. They ended up on the floor, Carl lying on his back, Gabriel leaning over him on his knees. Gabriel stopped suddenly.
"I am sorry," said Carl, looking at the scratch on Gabriel's neck with concern.
Gabriel shook his head, and was vaguely aware that his hair had just brushed Carl's cheek. His whole mind was focused on how close Carl's face was to his.
"Carl..." he said.
Carl felt pimply as Gabriel's breath tickled his cheek. What was he feeling? It was strange but somehow he knew the feeling in his heart had been there for a long time.
"What?" he asked gently.
"You've got... dried milk on your lips," Gabriel lied, stroking Carl's lips gently with his forefinger. He felt pleased when Carl gave a low moan and smiled.
"Gabriel?"
"Yes?" asked Gabriel, slowly removing his forefinger.
"I haven't had any milk for a whole week."
"Oh."
Gabriel felt his cheeks go scarlet.
"You look so cute when you blush," Carl teased.
"Give me something to really blush about then," Gabriel said back, only half joking.
He gasped in surprised as Carl grabbed the back of his head suddenly, jerking it down so that their lips were pressed together. Carl's lips were working- the smaller man was demanding entrance into Gabriel's mouth. Gabriel was all too happy to oblige. It was a long, sweet, passionate kiss, and when they drew apart, Gabriel found that his cheeks were flaming.
"You're blushing," Carl smirked.
"Or I'm ill, from the diseases in your mouth," retorted Gabriel.
He was saved from Carl's crushing comment by Cardinal Jinette calling for him from the end of the corridor. Casting Carl a final glance, Gabriel stood up and walked out.
-----------------------------------
I am going to continue this, I suppose, if I actually think of a plot. R&R please :D