More Nat...letting him get something this time. It's easy to forget how young Nat was in this...he never grew out of being a teenager...so here's something from the more childish mindset of Nat, which we don't often see with how fast he tried to grow up and all.

I am still writing/plotting that multi-chapter idea, my stuff got put on hold because I got into a wreck (their fault, not mine, I was broadsided XP) but I'm back now!

Self Esteem

Nathaniel sighed heavily, stepping out of the now tepid bathwater and wrapping himself in a soft towel. He scrubbed himself dry as he walked back into his bedroom from the adjoining bathroom, moving toward the clothes he'd set out for himself.

They were crisply pressed and immaculately placed, even before he put them on.

He reached for his underwear, pausing as he caught sight of his reflection in the mirror.

Frowning, he tilted his head and gave himself a critical once over. He was far too pale…too much time spent indoors and in pentacles furthered the whitening of a complexion already made pale by the bleak English weather.

He was too thin. His work was prioritized before anything else, even meals. He wasn't dangerously underweight, but despite growing older and filling out a bit, he still had the appearance of a lanky boy rather than a powerful government official and he knew it. His rivals knew it. If Jane Farrar didn't mention it in some subtle, barbing way at least twice each time they met he'd begin to feel suspicious.

His hair was shorter and not as prone to looking unkempt or unclean as it had a few years ago…but it was starting to grow out again, no longer had the close military crop he'd aimed for. It wasn't that his ploy for approval was no longer necessary…he needed supporters now more than ever…it was just that he hadn't had time to get it cut again.

His face was too angular and his eyes too wide, it made him appear more innocent than he was…and he was, regretfully quite innocent when it came to many things. Politics he knew, but outside of that he was inexperienced in nearly everything.

…with the way things had been going lately he was beginning to suspect that even his prowess in the political field was failing him.

His gaze dropped unhappily at the thought and this led him to take notice of another part of his anatomy that he generally tried to ignore as much as possible. He didn't even have time for a haircut these days, much less…anything associated with this particular appendage.

Despite this, his found himself slipping one pale hand between his legs to lift up the limp flesh and turn it slightly, studying it.

Nathaniel didn't make a habit of peeking at other men…or anyone for that matter…so he wasn't really sure if he was…adequately sized.

He hardly knew how to find out either…books on anatomy had sketches that dated back to Ancient Greece. What if size had…changed or something…since then?

It wasn't like he could ask anyone, the very thought was humiliating.

"It looks fine you know, it's probably just scared, 'cause you're the one touching it."

Nathaniel literally jumped, yanking his hand away and spinning…an admittedly stupid reaction…to stare at the intruder.

Bartimaeus.

Oh.

"I didn't realize you were going to be putting on a show for me." The djinni said, smirking and moving to wrap his arms around Nathaniel's torso, pulling the slight form against his own.

"I wasn't." Nathaniel protested, attempting to be commanding and firm, but Bartimaeus' hands had replaced his own clumsy ones and he couldn't seem to get the tone right, nor did he care.

He was crumpling his own clothes, he knew, as Bartimaeus lay him back against the bed and climbed atop him, but he couldn't seem to care all that much about that either.

Bartimaeus had seen the world, again and again in his lifetime, in ways that Nathaniel could only begin to speculate about and never fully comprehend…if he, after all that, found something desirable in Nathaniel, he supposed he must not be all that bad.

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