Requiem for a King [MxM]

Bad At Goodbyes

Quintus picked up his book with a sigh and read over the slanting scrawl for the umpteenth time. He swore he'd read this page a million times over and got distracted halfway through no after how hard he concentrated.

After a few more days in bed, he was starting to feel like a person again. It was some ungodly hour of the night. The attendants had come in hours before to take the dregs of his dinner away. Then Octavia had dropped by to go over the declarations she'd drafted. They'd meet with Gav to discuss them before sending them off to the archives.

Gavrael... there he was again, popping up into Quintus' mind like an uninvited guest. Quintus hadn't seen him since that night he came in to tell him they couldn't be together. And he hadn't slept well since. Hadn't stopped thinking about him, either. Was this what rejection felt like? All those boys he'd courted to warm his bed, only to steal away in the dead of night, never to be seen again; was this how they felt? Alone. Cast aside.

Shit.

He didn't know why he was getting so worked up, anyway. He planned to leave long before Gavrael "rejected" him. If anything, he was the one who'd done the rejecting. Maybe he felt a little disgusted with himself, but he'd get over it. He had an eternity to get over it.

A knock on the door pulled Quintus from his thoughts, and, speak of the nether, Gavrael stepped inside. He was dressed in his usual kingly getup with his coat draped over his shoulder.

"I wasn't expecting you to still be up at this hour." Gavrael tossed his coat over the chair and sat with hands planted on his knees. Close, but still far enough to be impersonal. "How are you feeling?"

"Well, enough to stand without falling over." Quintus pushed himself up and leaned against the headboard. "What brings you?"

He shrugged a shoulder. "I hadn't spoken to you since you woke up, and I wanted to ensure you were faring well. Are you being properly attended to?"

Quintus cringed at his diplomatic tone. "Properly enough. Are you looking to volunteer, your majesty?"

"Don't do that," Gav said, his shoulders bunching close to his neck.

"Do what?"

"Tease me." He breathed a sigh. "It hurts."

Quintus closed his book and set it aside. "I don't understand. Where is this coming from?"

"You know. As soon as this business with the archives is done, you're leaving. We've already established that you and I can't work. I can't give up my duties, you can't give up your ideals. Continuing as we were would only end with more hurt. It's better if we just keep this strictly business."

The words hit him like a dagger through the heart. He had rubbed off on Gav in the worst ways. "I see. Well... I can't say you're wrong. Is this your way of saying goodbye?"

Gavrael stayed silent for a long moment. "I don't like that word. Goodbye. It's too final."

"Do you want me to stay?" The words escaped his mouth before he could think better of them. Staying was not in either of their best interest. He'd been wandering for so long, never staying in one place long enough to grow roots there. But the thought of walking out of Avaly without Gavrael...

Fuck. He was ruined.

"We both know there's nothing I can say to make that happen. And who knows, perhaps our paths will cross again in the future. Or perhaps that's wishful thinking on my part." Gavrael breathed a humourless laugh.

Quintus closed the gap between their hands and brushed his fingers against Gav's. "Would you at least like to spend the night here? We could... keep each other's company." Gods, he sounded so desperate and pathetic. But seeing Gav, sitting there, all tousled and worn from a hard day's work, tugged on some primal urge within him.

Shit!

"I..." Gavrael swallowed and raked a hand through his hair. "I do." He pulled his hand away. "But I won't. We shouldn't. Goodnight, Quintus." he stood so fast, he almost knocked the chair over.

"Goodnight, your Majesty." He watched Gavrael go, and stared at the door for a long time after he left. He'd never sleep well again.