Roses Are Red: Chapter 2: Love (2/15/11)
I assumed my usual stance: kicked back in my chair with my feet up on my desk.
It was the day after Valentine's Day. The day after you confessed your love.
And I couldn't do it.
I, Dante Sparda, didn't have the guts to go up to Nero and confess.
He wasn't thrilled when I kissed him... He got all tense! After 16 years of sharing our bed, being best friends, "twins", showering in front of each other, talking about this stuff...after everything we did together...he didn't even want to kiss!
Hell, would you have the guts to confess to your best bud when it would be the end of everything if he rejected you?
And trust me, gay as he is, Nero is picky. Very picky. Especially when it came to men. He didn't just look at your face or your body. He looked at everything. Your preferences, your temper, your personality, your past, your quirks...everything. And one wrong detail could change his mind completely.
Nero believed in true love. But he also believed in uping the chances of true love by being very, very thorough.
So yeah. I'm scared. Scared I don't have a chance in hell of being with him. He's lucky. In demon society, with me as his Master, I could order him to sleep with me. Masters didn't give their Familiars any choice. A 'no' was ignored, and a 'yes' was no big deal 'cause it was happening anyway.
So I guess I stopped being his Master the day I started to care about him.
I'm sort of lucky too. If Nero hadn't been cursed into serving me, I wouldn't be here right now. Our mother never would have given birth to me. But no. Here I am, alive and born, drooling over my Familiar and for some reason not getting any from him.
At least that pickiness meant no other men got affectionate with him. Nero was waiting for true love, just like me. Well no. I found it. I just couldn't act on it.
But COME. ON. I may look 27, maybe 30, but demon aging stopped right there. I was a man, and I was ready to mate. And I knew I didn't have a shortage of willing potential partners.
But I wanted to mate. With Nero.
God that kid was too repressed! He was modest, picky, didn't drink, didn't 'cuss without cause'... Damn his Fortunian morals! Worse yet, he had iron self-control. Hell, come on. He could go a week without pizza and not even flinch. He had to have self-control, right? So even if he liked me, he could keep me waiting 4-EVER!
...what the hell am I gonna do?
...I love him!...
A muscular arm wrapped around my neck gently, a pale hand holding out a dish to me. With the voice of an angel, he nuzzled my hair, "Brought you some pizza..."
"Hey Nero." *sigh*
"You okay? You've been pouty ever since yesterday."
"I'm fine."
"Dante...you can talk if you need to. Whatever you've got on your chest, I know it's there. I'm not gonna judge. I love you."
Those words...were like claws. Because he could say he loved me, but he'd never mean it the way I did. And you might think that loving someone who hates you is the worst, but it's not. It's falling in love with someone who loves you back, who cares, just not the same way. Because if they hate you, you can learn to hate them back. But when they love you, they ask why you look hurt. They notice when little words or looks seem out of place. They care. But they'll never care the same way. So when you tell them, it blows up in your face.
He kissed my cheek, set the pizza down on my desk, and sat politely down on the red leather couches. Nero had a talent for handling people, especially people as similar to him as me. He knew now wasn't the best time. So he'd sit and wait for me to tell him.
He seemed so uninterested though! He was still a virgin for friggin'-freak's sake! And he wasn't troubled by it! So how the hell was I supposed to explain to him that I wanted to hop in bed with him and take away his purity?
Wait a minute...
What was the problem here?
I had no clue if he would be interested in me. That was the big deal, right?
And most people would be direct and ask, especially a guy as direct and straight-forward as me.
But...there were indirect ways to find out...right?