Felix Valerius

A look of incredulousness passed over his features, prompting a sharp reply. “What gave you the idea that I ever thought that you, of all people, was a good person?”

If Nen were to be honest with himself there was quite a lot that Felix had done recently that was beginning to persuade him that the man was simply misunderstood. The very fact that the man had opened his own house to him, allowed him to stay, had even made dinner once or twice was confusing miracle. As a result, Nen had found his heart tugged at in ways he never expected to experience. It was unfortunate that his pride kept him from that honesty, so as their conversation had taken an unanticipated deep turn, Nen felt the need to rescue himself with the only defense he had - sarcasm and cynicism. Both of which he cursed as soon as the words fell from his mouth.

@felixvalerius

There was a gaze of, disapproval at the sarcasm, yet Valerius was equally quick to respond. “The way you look at me. And talk to me.” That was indication enough that Nenny thought there was apparently something about Valerius that Nenny seemed to like enough to develop more of an emotional connection that Felix had ever experienced before. And it felt, unsettling. With how long he had his walls up, Nennius was the one who threatened to crumble them. Some days Val just wanted to kick him out, others . . . he never wanted to let him go. It was easiest to see which side was winning; which was more dominant than the other. “You would let someone you don’t think is a good person fuck you?” The words blunt, yet the question remained. Perhaps, it was Valerius’ turn for some sarcasm. 

16. Your muse breaks mine’s heart.

Valerius did not know how to describe the emotions coursing through him. For so long, he didn’t even know he had any. Emotions that is. He thought himself a wall. Built of stone. Unable to be penetrated. An unmovable shield placed in front of him. And yet, this moment caused it all to shatter. Perhaps, it had started to crumble bit by bit. When he had realized he cared more about Nennius than a master did a slave. When he freed him once Rebellion struck the region. When he saw him on the battlefield and killed a brother in arms to save him. When he allowed Nennius to brand him so he could remain with him in the rebels camp. And . . . now. 

When Nennius spoke of Valerius’, still hindered ability to be intimate to the extent that he wanted to. For intimacy, was a word foreign upon the tongue. Foreign to the mind, heart and soul. Yet he knew now, that it was needed. That the mere physical, wasn’t enough for Nennius and well . . . Valerius knew that. He had dreaded this day. No longer was status an obstacle they faced. They were both of equal ground. And yet, Valerius knew nothing of how to act with a lover. How could he know the sensation of a kiss, when the only one who had touched his lips in such a way was the woman who had birthed him. Years of childhood robbed from him . . . erasing the concept of intimacy and love.  

Valerius’ clenched his jaw, inner turmoil and pain over the mere thought of losing the man before him emotionally. Fucking irony, when it was Nennius himself who taught Valerius was emotion even was. That he could still possess ones apart from the indifference Felix felt for those perceived close to him . . . like his wife. What would be enough? No. Felix not dare ask. For he knew the answer. A kiss. A shedding of his own clothing. An . . . insight as to why Valerius was such a way. Yet silence lingered. Felix knew there was no bluff in Nennius voice. The former Roman soldier would lose the man unless he did something. Said something. Fought for him. 

Yet, the thought terrified Valerius, and he could already feel that stone cold heart of his breaking . . . unsure if he could fully offer himself to Nennius. Swallowing, Felix finally found the voice to answer. “You branded me a slave, yet perhaps I was always so.” A slave. A slave of circumstance. Of familial ties; ones that Felix had thought would be so frowned upon . . . yet accepted in this fucking political world he had often strove to remain far away from. “And such shackles are not easily severed.” Not like the shackles that once bound all these rebels. Valerius’ were more . . . emotional chains. Scars that would never heal. 

“Perhaps not ever.” It wasn’t exactly a hopeful statement, but Felix continued to battle desire with fear. Fucking him was all Felix had known. Though done now with more gentle touch and awareness of the other’s needs. Making love . . . giving Nennius that, intimacy that Felix knew he craved -- such as any man or woman would -- now that, was not so easily done. That, was completely unfamiliar, unknown. Completely foreign. Just like the feeling of his heart breaking. 

25. My muse is being stalked and shows up at your muse’s house uninvited, asking to stay the night.

She was back. Valerius thought he had caught a break when his ‘wife’ was going to be home late -- hopefully not at all -- but then the calls came, and the texts. And the reveal that she was outside his house. Valerius didn’t have the patience for this She didn’t want to deal with an over zealous crazy. He had already shown his abrupt and blunt self . . . but apparently, she had not gotten the message. And tonight, the doctor was not up for talking to her at all. The threat of the police didn’t even do it. So Valerius quickly changed into some casual clothes, grabbed his wallet, and made his way to the door. 

Sure enough, she was standing there. Her entire expression burst with happiness. But the emotion was not shared. Valerius grabbed the keys from her hand and tossed them into the bushes before he continued to walk forward to his car. So nonchalant, barley looking at her. He got inside, started it, and sped off. She would eventually find the keys no doubt, but at least this gave him a head start. The only reason he knew where he was going, was because he had been the doctor to treat the former patient. Nennius had once lived with them, but his wife did not seem to like that. 

A temporary housing situation was arranged, where Nennius would be staying somewhere while he recovered. He knew it might not last long though. He didn’t even know what he was going to say when he got there. It was as if he was on autopilot though. He could have stayed at a hotel, but this was closer. And . . . untraceable. Val pulled into the driveway, got out and immediately ran the doorbell before he had enough sense to turn around. He had never spent the night at someone’s house other than his own. And this, would apparently be the first time he would do so.    

Felix wasn’t sure what came over him tonight. There was something so . . . empty about his bed. He didn’t even fully remember walking over to Nennius’ room. It was as if it was pure instinct that led him there. A magnetic force that always pulled him towards the other male. He watched Nenny sleep, so peacefully. So soundly. Sometimes Valerius would wake him up, making physical demands of him. Such was the nature of their relationship after all. But right now, Valerius found his mind strayed from that path. That, predictability. Wasn’t he just that? Predictable. Because it was all he had allowed himself to show. The reluctance of divulging deeper into who he was was strong. Especially with Nennius. And yet, the closer he grew to him, the stronger the urge became. Valerius never was quite that good at containing it. 

If he was, he would not have kept this relationship going for as long as he had. If he could control himself around Nennius, he would not have done what he did next. He quietly approached the bed, shoes long since removed, clad in his sleeping attire. But instead of waking up Nennius, Felix did the exact opposite. He strove not to wake the other. Instead, he climbed under the covers, his arm reaching over to hold Nennius against him, the other man’s back tucking perfectly against Valeriu’s chest. As if in some odd way, their bodies were meant to cradle the others. Valerius just silently remained, stiff, frozen . . . this was all so unfamiliar. 

Was he even doing it right? Was there was a certain way to hold someone in this circumstance? While his body didn’t fully relax, there was an undeniable peace found within. A soothing sensation down to Felix’s very soul -- which some may argue he did not possess. But this moment, being with Nennius in a way more intimate than he ever had been with anyone . . . reassured Felix that he was not deadened. That he did possess a soul, a beating heart, and warm flesh. There was an odd solace that accompanied this feeling, and for one, Valerius did not question it. He only allowed himself to experience it as he slowly closed his eyes. For the first time in his entire life, he would share a bed with a partner for the entire duration of the night.  

Valerius looked at him, his expression stoic and absent any sympathy. “You act as if I care about your wants and love for another.” Which, Valerius very clearly did not. “Save your words for one who can make difference in the outcome. We are to wed for political gain, nothing more. I do not care for your love or your desires.” Sarcasm, but words held true. “So keep them silent in my presence. I would not be burdened with incessant whining.” And with that, Valerius took a sip of his wine to help him tolerate the present conversation. 

The wedding as a grand affair, as expected. For a king and crown prince to wed, was indeed cause for massive celebration. It was held in Felix’s kingdom, all the royal family and others accompanying Cetan for the wedding day, and festivities that would follow in the coming weeks. Valerius did not speak extensively to his now husband. He had however gotten a good look at him. He was young. Attractive. Having a purity about him. Though it was none of these traits that Valerius had particularly looked for in another. The main things he preferred: a strong political alliance . . . and a male. 

There were many reasons for this. The first being that Valerius did not desire any more offspring. He had a son. That was enough. A son granted to him by his former wife. She in fact, remained close by, having her own quarters. Valerius could not stand the sight of her. Because he had deemed her mentally unstable, their marriage was dissolved, opening Valerius up to find a more suitable spouse. She had given him what he needed: an heir. So now, he only required someone who would bring forth an alliance and political gain. That is what Cetan provided. So alas, came the next stage of the wedding. And not exactly one that Felix took particular interest in. But it was required. To solidify the marriage. 

He entered the room that he had instructed them to prepare Cetan in -- Cetan’s own chambers. The king silently stepped inside, closing the door behind him and barley looking over the other male. They were both rid of their elaborate regal attire, fancy for the occasion of their wedding day. Now, Valerius dressed in a loose white blouse, dark pants and boots, with a belt lightly tied around him. He crossed Cetan, making way over to the table where refreshments lay, filling a goblet of wine for himself. He then turned, finally taking in the sight of his husband. Felix’s expression was unchanged, stoic as ever. “Remove your pants,” he stated, nonchalantly taking a sip of the finest wine. 

“Your happiness is irrelevant,” Valerius told him rather bluntly.  “We did not wed so that you could be happy. I care more of your inheritance than your happiness.” Which, was no secret. The marriage was one of political gain, and the land that Cetan was set to rule was a glorious one. It was strategic and of the best gain for King Valerius to wed the Crown Prince. “So go to market and buy a new sword. Or purchase yourself a pony. Maybe that will make you happy.” Sarcasm, clearly. But Valerius wasn’t exactly known for his tender words or compassionate comfort. 

It was not often that Valerius was home when Nennius was not but, today was that rarity occurred. Val would be going into work later on but for now, he was home. And, hardly idle. In fact, he wasn’t thinking at all. It had all started with seeing Nennius’ shirt on his floor when he woke up. The other male had still been sleeping, in his bed no less. And it caused Valerius to realize . . . just how many times that had happened. Where they now fell asleep together. Where, Valerius had allowed it to happen. With no one else did he share that level of, comfort. Despite his still getting used to feeling another’s soft touch, or wrapping in each other’s warmth . . . Valerius was recognizing his emotions. Once that had him considering what the point was for Nennius to have another room. That shirt on the floor, was a claim. A mark. That they were together. Physically. Emotionally. So why not continue to solidify that? 

Felix could not think of a logical answer to that question. So as soon as Nennius left. Valerius started cleaning. He went into Nennius’ room and began to pull out whatever clothes he had in the closet and drawers. He moved his toothbrush and all else in his bathroom. He took out any and every item that belonged to Nennius, and without over thinking it, began to place it in his room. Not just anywhere though, in the places they belonged. He had cleared out some space and neatly placed Nennius’ clothing in the drawers and hung in the closet. His toothbrush went next to his in the holder. And, before he knew it . . . Nennius was officially moved into his master bedroom. 

How the fuck had this happened? 

Valerius just glanced around and moved to sit on his chair, taking out some documents to start to read over. But his mind was elsewhere. His mind was stil processing what he had just done. What this meant for them. While he was not exactly vocal about where they stood, or how he felt for Nennius, he knew that this would be very revealing of both things. And suddenly, Val felt nervous. Not something he commonly experienced but once he heard the key to the main door turn. He took a slow breath and forced his gaze onto the words that just seemed like a jumble of letters right now. He couldn’t even bring himself to greet his lover as he entered the house. His lover, that he had officially moved into his room. 

Felix had not realized how exhausted he’d been last night. He had gotten home late from an already long shift, and of course he found himself in bed with Nennius. It was what Felix most looked forward to coming home. For it was the first time there was someone there, that Valerius didn’t loathe. For once in his life, he wanted to be home. He wanted to be with this person. No longer was he looking for excuses to stay in his office -- which was the case when he was with his wife. No longer did he dread coming home, and all that would he would be forced to endure the moment he stepped through the door. No. Such emotions were of the past, because Nennius . . . made him feel differently. Words more felt than verbally expressed.  So when Felix slowly opened his eyes, feeling the light of the sun through the curtain, he froze. 

His arms were around Nennius, and the other was tucked into them against his chest, with his own arms around Felix. They were in Felix’s bed. So, that was three things that had never happened before -- especially as Valerius had once told Nennius that he did not cuddle. The first, they had fallen asleep together through the night. The second, they had their arms around each other. The third . . . Felix found himself not wanting to move. He watched his lover sleep soundly, this odd, sensation seemingly impossible to fight off. Even though every past experience had taught him that instinct was to pull away. But Felix didn’t. Instead, he stayed in the exact same position, and closed his eyes again, not yet ready to part from Nennius. And perhaps, not even quite ready for Nennius to know . . . just how incredible this felt for Felix.