Nathaniel

Upon waking up, the very first thing Nathaniel became aware of was the pounding of his head. He groaned, rubbing the sleep off his eyes. Carefully, he sat himself up. His entire body was sore and sluggish. Cracking open an eye, he looked around. He was back in the hotel room. He was sitting on his bed with a rough, itchy blanket tangled within his legs. The small window's curtains we're drawn to a close; a sliver of the morning's light peeking through. Groaning, he kicked off the blanket and sat at the edge of the bed.

What happened? Where was Bartimaeus?

He only had a few brief memory of last night's events. The last few things he remembered were listening to the conversation between Bartimaeus and Alec. The djinn was smiling and kept Alec entertained. After that, Nathaniel can only remember in flashes. Half of those flashes, he doubted were real. There was Anne on the table, half naked. There was also flashes of being carried by Bartimaeus and a large woman bearing down over him.

"Bartimaeus?" He croaked weakly. His throat and mouth was dry. Swallowing, he noted a sour taste in his mouth. He looked down at himself. His clothes were a mess. A stain covered the front of his clothes, and he reeked of vomit and sweat. Nathaniel gagged. This was absolutely humiliating. A member of the government covered in vomit after a night out with the commoners. He silently cursed at himself.

"Good, you're awake."

Nathaniel jumped and immediately winced in pain. Carefully, he turned his pounding head to his right.

"What happened?" He asked, licking his dry lips.

Bartimaeus strolled towards the window, thrusting the curtains to the side. A flood of light entered the room; Nathaniel cried out in pain and shut his eyes. He heard the djinn snicker.

"Well, you're hungover. Here, I brought water. Drink it. After that, go take a shower, brush your teeth and put on fresh new clothes. I'll have food ready by the time you're done."

Shielding his eyes from the assaulting light with a hand, Nathaniel took a hold of the glass cup, and eagerly gulped down the water.

"What happened?" He asked again.

"A lot has happened. Alec and I started talking. I felt that he was onto us or something. I dunno, something felt off. But then you got sick, and it was a mess getting you into a bathroom. Had to wrestle someone, you puked on yourself, and then started blathering nonsense. In the end, Alec came and invited us to meet with him this evening to talk to us about some 'secret club'."

Nathaniel cleared his throat. "Secret club? Like the Resistance?"

"Not sure. He said we we're gonna meet more of his friends. Apparently, we're worthy enough. Whatever that means."

With great care, Nathaniel placed his emptied cup aside and hopped off the side of the bed. A pain shot up his side. "Why am I so sore?"

"Uhh, probably because I threw you at this giant bull of a lady. I said sorry beforehand."

Nathaniel threw a sour but pained glance at the djinn's direction. He smiled apologetically. Sore and hungover. This was no way to go into a mission. With each and every dizzying step, Nathaniel shuffled himself into the bathroom. Discarding his soiled clothes, he stepped under the tepid water that spluttered weakly from the shower head. On any normal day, Nathaniel would disprove of such shower and would claim that a dip in the pool is a much better alternative. But, given the circumstances, he embraced it. Washing away the sweat and grime, Nathaniel allowed himself to think. A shower was the only place a person was truly isolated. It was the perfect place to think.

He poked at the forming bruises on his side and winced. Tonight, they were going to meet up with Alec again to talk about some "secret club". Would the Resistance be considered a club to commoners? Nathaniel placed his head underneath the running shower, feeling the water calming his pounding head. He stretched his sore muscles, groaning as he did so. If this secret club was a Resistance movement, everything would be smooth from then on out. Bartimaeus had mentioned Alec asking invasive questions while he was out. Was that something that he needed to worry about?

A gentle knock sounded on the door.

"When you're done, I've left clean clothes and food by the door. Don't step on them. It's hot coffee and a brioche."

-o0o0o0o0o0o-

Clean and fed, Nathaniel felt much better. Although his head still swam dizzily, he found that the pounding had subsided and his sore muscles were now tolerable to move. Bartimaeus had spent the rest of the morning peering out the small window while Nathaniel sat in a small desk, scribbling down notes of his plan, past events, and evidence. It was best to have things written down in case they missed something later on.

"I'm bored," Bartimaeus said, sighing.

"So you've said for the hundredth time." Nathaniel didn't bother looking up from his notes, his pen moving in a scribbling fashion.

"Can we at least explore the city?"

"And risk getting recognized and caught? No. You know better than that."

The djinn stepped away from the window, stopping in front of the scribbling magician. With a defeated sigh, Nathaniel looked up from his notes to face Bartimaeus.

"Yes?"

"You said some weird shit last night. I want to know if you really meant it or if you were just drugged out of your mind."

Setting his pen down, Nathaniel cleared his throat. "What kind of weird stuff?"

"You don't remember anything?" Bartimaeus cocked his head to the side, one hand on his hip.

"Not much, truthfully."

Bartimaeus leaned forward, propping his chin with his elbow on the small desk. Nathaniel swallowed and leaned back against his chair, keeping a good distance between him and the djinn.

"What's wrong with Jane?" The djinn asked.

"What?"

"Why don't you like her? You said she was, in your own drugged out words, 'meh'." He was watching him intently now.

Nathaniel fidgeted with the collar of his shirt, feeling it suddenly constricting his neck. What did I say last night?

"Um, I like her. I just don't think she's – uh - partner material. Why do you care so much? What did I say?"

"Do you want to kiss me?"

He paused, his fidgety hands frozen. Nathaniel looked into the djinn's golden eyes. It reminded him of swirling honey. Despite the sweetness appearance, his eyes were cold and calculating. Bartimaeus was testing him. Blinking away, Nathaniel stood up from the desk, notes forgotten.

"No, I don't need that anymore. Jane said I was –"

"That you were good. No need to repeat yourself."

"Why did you ask then?"

The djinn straightened his back. Turning from Nathaniel, he shrugged his shoulders as he walked back to the small window. Annoyance crept up on Nathaniel.

"Bartimaeus, what did I say last night?"

"That I meant a lot to you, and Jane was nothing. Is that true?" The djinn spoke without tearing his eyes from the window. His voice was steady with no indication of emotion. Nathaniel struggled to answer, his mind racing for the best answer.

"I – uh – I respect you enough," he stammered. "More than a magician ought to. You're valuable so you have lots of value to me. Um, I trust you."

Bartimaeus hummed disapprovingly. "Huh. Respect me enough. Even after all this time, you still see me as a tool that you can use freely. And here I was thinking this was Nathaniel speaking, not the cold John Mandrake."

Nathaniel bit the inside of his cheeks. "I only meant that I see you as a person and not a –"

"Demon?"

"Spirit."

Silence enveloped the room. Nathaniel stood awkwardly, watching the djinn from across the room. The djinn was calmly peering out the window, a sullen look on his face. It reminded him of the quiet intimate moment he had with Bartimaeus bathed in the moonlight in his study room. It seemed so long ago. And yet, it was only last week. Everything was much simpler then. Or so he told himself. After a few minutes of silence, Bartimaeus suddenly stirred.

"Well, can we go out and get some lunch at least? I'm tired of being cooped up."

"Something is missing with Jane."

Bartimaeus turned, eyes brows arched. "Huh?"

"Whenever Jane and I kiss, I don't really feel what I feel with you. I think she's beautiful and smart, but she offers nothing else to me. Is that normal? Is that what it feels like to love someone? I always imagined it was something much more intense like in the movies."

Nathaniel didn't really understood why he was rambling now. It was as if the floodgate to his brain had opened. Everything poured freely out of his mouth. Words turned into sentences, and sentences turned into rants. Without realizing, he began pacing around the room. The djinn stood still, quietly listening to the ranting magician. Finally, after several minutes of Nathaniel spewing out whatever came to mind, Bartimaeus held up a hand. Nathaniel stopped in his tracks, the words stuck in his throat.

"Nat, I'm not your therapist or your matchmaker. But it sounds like you're not compatible with Jane."

"But why? Why don't I feel what I feel with you? Is it her or is it me? It must be her!" Nathaniel threw himself against the chair by the desk. He ran his fingers through his hair, one leg bouncing on the balls of his feet in agitation.

"Hold up, back up." Bartimaeus shifted from foot to the other, gesticulating wildly. "What do you mean what you feel with me?"

Nathaniel drooped his head, avoiding Bartimaeus gaze. "I thought – I mean, that feeling when we kiss. Y-you don't feel that? Isn't that what you're supposed to feel? I thought it was normal…"

Bartimaeus gestured impatiently. "What feeling, Nathaniel?"

He lifted his shoulder in a half shrugged. "I don't know how to explain it. It just – it just feels good."

The djinn paused, tense. His eyes were cold, searching Nathaniel's face. Nathaniel shrank underneath his gaze. Slowly and without sound, Bartimaeus loomed closer to Nathaniel. Nathaniel sat upright in his chair, becoming all too aware of how close the djinn was.

"Nathaniel, I'm going to do something out of my free will right now. I need to see something. Don't freak out or yell or anything. I just need to see something."

He nodded, eyes looking everywhere but the djinn standing in front of him. Bartimaeus bent down, his face inching closer to his. Nathaniel swallowed, still aware of the djinn watching his every movement. He couldn't help but steal small glances at the djinn's lips. He could smell the sweet fragrance of foreign spices. With great effort, Nathaniel lifted his gaze towards Bartimaeus. Golden eyes met with his. Nathaniel felt himself tremble underneath his gaze, his breath quickening in pace.

Bartimaeus closed the gap; his experienced lips pressing against Nathaniel's nervous lips. The djinn deepened the kiss, working his mouth against the other. Nathaniel let out a squeak; his hands hovering at his sides awkwardly. Bartimaeus cupped Nathaniel's face, one hand snaking behind his neck. Without realizing, Nathaniel was tugging Bartimaeus's shirt, pulling him closer. Nathaniel felt the djinn's tongue brush against his lips; a current surged throughout his body. He gasped into the kiss, the heat rising into his cheeks. Seeking more, Nathaniel returned the favor. He wanted more, he needed more. He hungrily pushed back, moaning as his tongue brushed against the djinn's. Nathaniel now had his arms around Bartimaeus's neck, pulling him down, deepening the kiss further. He felt quick hands fall from his face; one hand pressed against his chest, the other fumbling with his belt. Nathaniel shifted in his seat, moaning into the hot and wet kiss. The metal clinks of the belt could be heard as it came undone. Then the hand stopped moving.

Bartimaeus pulled away abruptly. Wild-eyed, he wiped his lips. Nathaniel opened his eyes, dazed.

"Shit. Fuck. No."

The djinn raked his hand through his hair, his breathing quickening.

"W-what?"

Bartimaeus didn't answer. Concerned, Nathaniel reached out, touching his arm; the djinn wrenched his arm away.

"No, don't touch me," he said. "I need to go."

Confused, Nathaniel shifted in his seat. He had lost control during the kiss, that was evident enough. His face felt hot.

"Where will you go?" He stammered.

"Away from you."

A sinking feeling came down upon him. Nathaniel clenched his jaws; his eyes brimming with hot tears that threatened to pour out. He screwed his eyes shut, forcing the tears down. Keeping his eyes shut, he heard the djinn walk away, slamming the door shut. His lips quivered. Angrily, he gripped the edge of his seat, his knuckles turning white. Tears stung his eyes. Why am I crying?