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writing-to-nobody · 1 year

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Azel...misspeaks.

Rating: T for suggestive themes

Based on an old convo with @littlemoondarlingarts featuring his OC Rouge and my OC Azel

"Frivolous?" Rouge's voice was taut with scarcely contained rage.

"I'm only saying, perhaps if you paid more attention to your work and less to your appearance, I would be able to take you a bit more seriously," Azel replied. He studied the vampire's intricately braided hair and unnecessarily fancy outfit with undisguised disdain. "I mean no offense. I'm merely stating a fact. There's more to success than just"—he waved a hand dismissively—"looking pretty."

"How dare you? I'll have you know, I—" Rouge broke off abruptly. His scowl fell away and, after a moment, the corners of his lips quirked upward in a puzzled sort of smirk. He raised an eyebrow. "You think I'm pretty?"

Azel felt like he'd taken a plunge into the Boiling Sea. His ears flicked back and it was all he could do to keep his tail from twitching in a nervous, undignified fashion. "I—that isn't what I—"

It was clearly too late for his feeble, stammered excuses. Rouge was plainly amused now. He rested his chin in his hand. "Oh, no, please do go on. What was that about me being too pretty to take seriously, Your Imperial Majesty?" His spoke Azel's title with clear irony.

Ordinarily, Azel did not take kindly to being mocked, but he was too flustered to summon up any real anger. "Well," he said defensively, "all I meant was that you clearly put more effort into your appearance than your work." The vampire's hair looked almost impossibly soft, not a strand out of place, not a split end in sight. He seemed to be wearing mascara, which served to accentuate his long, graceful lashes. Azel caught himself staring a bit too long into his eyes.

Rouge leaned toward him, grinning just so to reveal one gleaming fang. "Tell me more."

Oh, no. This was not at all going in the direction Azel had intended. He leaned back nervously, tugging at his tie, which suddenly felt very tight around his throat. "I—" His voice cracked. "I think I've made myself clear."

"Oh, yes." Rouge reached out to pinch the lapel of Azel's suit jacket critically between his thumb and forefinger. "I think you have."

Azel gulped.

—

"You're in late."

Azel nearly jumped out of his skin. He whirled to face the desk he'd expected to be empty at this time of night. "Lyndis," he hissed. "It is nearly eleven! What on earth are you doing here?"

His executive assistant regarded him with evident suspicion. "I was waiting for you, actually."

"You have Sundays off," he stammered. He tugged nervously on the collar of his jacket.

"Yeah, but you're always in, and I was wondering—" Lyndis broke off, blinking in surprise. She was staring pointedly at his neck.

Hastily, he clapped a gloved hand over the spot as a memory resurfaced. Of course, it was too late.

Lyndis's jaw dropped.

"Lyndis—"

"Holy shit."

"—I swear to God—"

"I never thought this day would come."

"—If you want to keep your job—"

She appeared abruptly beside him, throwing an arm around his shoulders. "I'm so proud," she said, pretending to wipe a tear from her eye. "After all these years, my boss has finally lost his—"

"Finish that sentence. I dare you."

"Virginity."

He buried his face in his hands. "We didn't—oh, never mind, it's none of your business. Get back to work."

"Nuh-uh. I have Sundays off, remember?"

"Lyndis."

"So how was it? Was it everything you ever imagined? Am I gonna have a boss-in-law? Spill."

Azel gave a massive sigh. It was going to be a long night

#Azel Desrosiers #Rouge Rouge #story #stories

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writing-to-nobody · 1 year

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Not So Simple

Rouge and Azel discover they have something in common. Sometimes it’s not as simple as doing the thing that would make us happiest.

Continuation of Indecision. Rouge belongs to @littlemoondarlingarts :)

Words: 2,244

Rating: G

Rouge had hardly gotten a single page into the letter he was translating when Azel interrupted.

"How on Earth do you focus with all this noise?"

He looked up from his work to see Azel cover his ears, wincing as if the music physically pained him. And he says I'm dramatic, Rouge thought. He'd even been kind enough to put on a record in place of inviting a live performer in hopes that Azel would find it a suitable compromise. Clearly, it hadn't worked.

He returned to his work, puzzling over Dracula's handwriting. "As I've told you, I have a difficult time focusing without it, and considering how I spent the last few days in your office getting scarcely anything done, I think you can afford to indulge me for a single day."

"Where my empire is concerned, I can't afford an idle day." There Azel went again with his usual self-important drivel. Most of the time, Rouge indulged him, but he was beginning to run short on patience.

"You're welcome to return to your office," he replied curtly. "Just don't expect me to be waiting with bated breath for your return."

That bought him some time to focus. He finally deciphered the word that had given him so much trouble. Lackadaisical. It was a good thing Dracula couldn't read any of his translated work. He'd probably complain that Rouge wasn't maintaining his flair for the unnecessarily verbose.

The room was quiet save for the scratching of his pen on the paper and the gentle swell of the music in the background. Had Azel left, then? Rouge told himself he didn't care. It would probably be easier to focus without him, after all. He managed to maintain that little lie for the time it took to finish the first of many pages. Then, he couldn't help himself. He glanced over at the chair he'd acquired for Azel (custom made, thank you very much, and comfortable, unlike the stiff excuses for furniture Azel kept in his office. He'd even been considerate enough to request the designer to leave space for Azel's tail. And what did he get for it? Complaints about his workspace!).

He was somewhat pleased to find that Azel had not left, but judging by the way the man was hunched over his papers, a deep frown marring his face, he was still sulking over the arrangement. Well, that was just fine. Rouge could make it up to him later, once he'd made it through the veritable mountain of letters he was supposed to have sent out days ago.

Somehow, he made it through the day, though it was one of the most trying in recent memory. Spending hours poring over the words of a man who saw others as little more than dolls he could make dance for his own amusement wasn't exactly his idea of a good time. Unfortunately, he didn't have a choice. Dracula knew too much, and if Rouge ever tried to terminate their arrangement, he'd happily destroy not only his life, but the lives of his sons. He couldn't let that happen.

"Well," he sighed. "I suppose that's enough for the day. Perhaps we could go for a stroll and enjoy what remains of the moonlight. What do you say?"

Azel didn't respond. At a glance, Rouge thought he was hunched over the desk in despair. It wouldn't have been the first time that day. He rose from his chair and took a tentative step toward him, only to find him fast asleep.

Well, my music's good for one thing, he thought, amused. Their stroll would have to wait. In the meantime, perhaps he could find his guest a blanket…

—

Azel jolted awake with a gasp. He heard something skitter across the floor—his pen, maybe—and was glad he'd just missed knocking over his inkwell. He took his glasses off and rubbed his eyes. Where was he?

"I suppose the chair is comfortable, then?" a familiar voice teased.

It took him only a moment to place it, and when he did, he sat up straight, clearing his throat. Something slid off his shoulders. A blanket? How had that gotten there?

"Rouge," he said, as neutrally as he could manage, in an attempt to maintain what was left of his dignity.

He spotted the vampire lounging in a chair across the table from him. He had a book in one hand, though he seemed more interested in Azel.

"How long was I…" He started to ask. Then he broke off, pursing his lips. Maybe if he didn't say the word, they could both pretend this had never happened.

"Asleep?" Rouge prompted, instantly and gleefully dashing that hope. "Well, I'm not certain, mon cheri. I looked up from my work a few hours ago to find you that way, and I thought you might need the rest."

"Hours?" Azel exclaimed. Running his hand over his hair, he was distraught to find it out of place. He must look like a fool. And what of his work? Had he gotten anything done?

Rouge's smile faded. "Is something the matter?"

"I…" Azel grimaced. "I apologize. You must think me dreadfully unprofessional."

To his surprise, Rouge scoffed. "If you think the way we've been conducting ourselves up to this point was meant to be professional, you must have a very strange idea of what constitutes a professional relationship."

"Th-that's—" Azel stammered, blushing. "What I mean is, you must think less of me, after this."

"Must I?" Rouge leaned forward, resting his cheek in his hand. "This isn't one of your…" He waved his other hand in a lazy flourish. "Circular meetings."

"Circle," Azel corrected.

"Yes, that. I'm not some foreign dignitary, I'm your—" Rouge broke off, seemingly fumbling, for the first time in Azel's memory, for the right word.

Unwilling to pursue that line of conversation further, Azel searched the room frantically for another topic of conversation. His eyes fell upon the stack of papers Rouge had been working through all day. "You know, I don't believe I've ever asked what it is you actually do for work," he said quickly.

"Oh." Rouge's expression soured. He drew the stack toward him, picking it up and tapping it twice on the table to bring all of the papers into alignment. "Translation work, when I'm fortunate. When I'm unfortunate, Dracula sends me a few centuries' worth of disorganized, almost entirely unrelated paperwork and demands that I assemble it into some sort of order."

Azel wondered if he'd misheard him. "Dracula," he echoed. "You work for Dracula?"

Rouge sighed irritably and leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms and bouncing one leg in clear agitation. "Trust me, it's not as glamorous as it sounds. Not even remotely."

"Dracula is…a real person," Azel said slowly.

Abruptly, Rouge abandoned his chair and strode toward the door. "Are we going to talk about work all day, or are we going to go for a walk? Honestly!"

Puzzled, Azel followed.

—

"This is nice," Azel commented to break the silence. It was a pleasant night, if a bit chilly. The moon was nearly full and, without the pollution of a million lights, one could actually see the stars.

If Rouge had heard him, he gave no acknowledgement of it. For some reason, he seemed to be in a foul mood, and had been ever since they'd left the castle. Azel wondered if it was something he'd said. His companion had seemed to be in good enough humor until he'd directed the conversation toward his work.

Perhaps he didn't like his job. Or, was he cross that Azel had changed the subject when he'd been attempting to define their relationship? At that thought, Azel felt a familiar anxiety pressing in on him. What did Rouge think this was? Azel wasn't oblivious to the fact that he was the latest in a long string of…dalliances. It probably wasn't anything serious. That should have made him feel better, shouldn't it?

After all, he didn't have room for a—…for anything more than a fling. He was meant to marry Skye Delacroix. It was the safe thing to do, and the smart thing to do, and historically, his choices had been nothing if not safe and smart. Where his brother had run toward a life of frivolity to escape his responsibility, Azel had faced it head on. It hadn't mattered if he'd wanted it or not. Why should this be any different?

Besides, he didn't even know what he wanted.

…Well, he knew he didn't want to marry Skye. He was exhausted enough as it was without having to play to her every whim. Surely there were other ways to avoid war. Logically, it would be more advantageous for them to band together, marriage or no marriage, against their would-be enemies, but Skye wasn't exactly known for her logic. She was more the type to damn her entire empire if she felt slighted.

A part of him wished his father were still about. He wouldn't be having any of these silly thoughts, then. He would be marrying Skye, and that would be that.

His father was gone, though. The choice was his. He was damned if he did and damned if he didn't and twice as miserable at the prospect of either option.

He took a deep breath, cool night air rushing into his lungs. The air was so fresh here, not smelling of sulfur at all. It wasn't stifling like the city, either, with cramped buildings constantly looming over you and glass and concrete everywhere you looked. Sometimes, he almost wished he could stay.

Of course, that wasn't an option. It had never been an option for him. Besides that, right now it didn't seem like Rouge even wanted him there. Maybe he ought to work on addressing that first.

"Rouge," he said, "if I've offended you, I—I apologize. I seem to do that more often than not, and it surely wasn't my intention."

Rouge's red eyes flicked toward him, nearly seeming to glow in the moonlight. "What?"

"That is, you've been very…accommodating—I-I mean—" He was stammering: something he only seemed to do around Rouge. There he went making a fool of himself again, and Rouge was staring at him now, his expression unreadable. "I've enjoyed our time together," he choked out.

"Oh." Rouge was frowning again. "You're leaving, then."

"What?" Azel shook his head frantically. "No, that's not what I meant at all! I was trying to say that I enjoy our time together, in the present tense, it's just that I've never—" He folded his hands uncomfortably. "I've never done something like this. I don't know what you expect of me or if I'm making too much of this, and If I am, please stop me now before I make a fool of myself any further, but I never meant to upset you by avoiding the subject, and now you must think me a coward, and—"

"What are you talking about?" Rouge interrupted, arching an eyebrow.

"Uh…" Azel twiddled his thumbs. "Haven't I upset you?"

"No. Why would you think that?"

"Well…" How could he put this without offending him? "You seem to be cross about something. I thought it might be my…avoidance, on the subject of our…relationship." He could swear his heart nearly stopped just saying that word. Was it a bridge too far, saying that aloud?

To his surprise, Rouge chuckled. "Ah. No. That wasn't it at all. It's…something else. Nothing you need to concern yourself with. Besides…" He linked his arm with Azel's. "I'm far more interested in discussing our relationship." He smiled mischievously.

Azel gulped. Well, at least Rouge wasn't angry with him. Not yet, anyway. "Ah—yes. That."

"And here I thought this was just a fling to you, but my are we getting serious now..."

"Rouge."

Rouge laughed. Azel's heart fluttered at the sound. "Forgive me, mon cheri. You are so easy to tease."

Azel huffed out a sigh and tried to act as though he wasn't flustered by the pet names Rouge used so freely.

Running his gloved fingers over the Azel's sleeve, Rouge hummed pensively. "Does this mean you've decided not to go along with that dreadful arranged marriage idea? Or am I simply to be your paramour?"

Azel grimaced.

Rouge's hand stilled on his arm. "I see."

Azel felt like a rat in a snake's coils. "I don't want to marry her. Surely you can see that!"

"Then, don't."

Azel pulled away. "It isn't that simple!" he exclaimed, exasperated. "There's more at stake here than my happiness. Lives may be hanging in the balance, and I have to do what's best for the people who are counting on me. Can't you understand that?"

At that last question, Rouge looked stricken. He turned away abruptly. "Better than you know," he muttered.

Azel wasn't sure what to make of that. Before he could decide whether to press the matter, a cool breeze whipped past them and, despite his thick coat, Rouge visibly shivered. Azel hesitated a moment before putting an arm around his companion's waist.

Rouge flinched.

"Sorry," Azel said immediately, but before he could draw back, Rouge huddled closer to him.

"I think I've had enough of walking," he said, still in that muted tone, so devoid of his usual spirit.

"Let's go inside," Azel agreed.

Rouge stayed glued to his side the whole way back to the castle. They walked in silence, and Azel worried.

#Azel #Rouge Rouge #story #stories

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