When we meet someone we haven't seen in a long time. We rush towards them because our minds are like children and don't remember everything at first. Like why we shouldn't go to the people who harmed us so brutally we wear their scars beneath our skin. Each hurt a deep gash on our very souls.
Eight thousand feet in the air in Colorado, a tall slender man in a white tuxedo smiles at a crowd of gorgeous men and women dressed equally exquisite. His wide, bearded mouth spoke with a soft voice with a unique accent none could place. With skin like a cup of coffee with too much cream he looked radiant beneath the crystal chandeliers of the ball room of the Hotel Dante. An exclusive hotel that caters to the wealthy and elite of the world. People enjoyed his cadence in his stories about the different places he had been. The countries he had walked across, the women and men imagined what lay beneath the fine suit and crisp button down. Handsome with a head of golden hair that in itself was unusual because it was a seemingly natural afro that stood a few inches from his broad forehead.
What got people peering closer were his tricolor eyes, a mix of opal blue, forest green with flecks of gold. Finnegan was a small bit of magic in a world that had none. This was to them as if having a tiger walk into another boring gala and making it anything but. To Finn whose magic was coming off him in waves as a Venus Fly Trap produces sweet scents to lure unsuspecting insects to die inside it, it was just another Saturday. Finn closed his eyes, the voices and the movement of every person in the vast ballroom crashing against his magic like rain on an umbrella. He filtered what he actually experienced, but with a thought he amplified his own presence in the perception of the small group around him.
He wanted one of them to want him so badly, but humans are hive animals. Desperately they use the approval of others as a surety to their own actions. It was an aspect of humanity he disliked greatly but would never say, it made them easily mailable to his purposes. Even now, his stories about the humidity of the Congo forests had women nodding along. All because one member of the group, a handsome man with a strong jaw had been led by Finn to believe they had done a safari together. Finn had picked up on where tte man's blue eyes moved on his body and implied that he and the man had been friends and more. The women had been jealous of the man and the men had been in awe of the stranger. The stranger could of said at any time that it was bullshit but instead he had just inched closer like a moth to a flame.
Being a Fae in the land of Men had its advantages and Finn wasn't one to miss an opportunity. Together with three other Fae and four human scoundrels they are a band of thieves. No name needed, as they didn't do contract work. The eight of them scour the news for potential jobs and then as a democracy decide which is the fun idea, the easy idea, the suicidal idea and on a whim they carry them out. The eight never stay in one place long, traveling the globe always in search of a bigger and better score. Today was an Heiress from a United Kingdom country that Finn had already forgot, but her beautiful face he did not.
Sienna, five foot four inches tall with the body of a gymnast stood in the crescent moon of people who enjoyed his stories. Her hair the color of Moonlight with skin like snow from her lack of time in daylight due to a medical condition. It made her skin fragile and he would have to take care with her. She was a flower few could ever see and less could ever touch. He watched her amber eyes light up with the stories he told about the Russian women who danced on tables not for men but for the thrill of each other. Finn could see that she wanted to be that free. He also wanted freedom, but knew that would never be his.
A chill crept across his body as if a cold breath of frost blew in but he knew that was impossible. The Hotel Dante, a testament to true opulence had spared no expensive creating the perfect gala complete with lines of small fires alight on crystals to act as artistic pieces of decor. Finn looked away from Sienna as he felt it again. Violins and guitars and drums played as a female singer sang in the center of the room. The guests were invited to dance around the band, the music reminded him of a marching line music with an ethereal feeling. The feeling of frost was coming from the center, he was sure of it. His bushy golden eyebrows creased in consternation, he walked among the dozens of people towards the band. When had his heart started hammering in his chest behind his ribs? His mouth is going dry. His eyes began to burn with tears, but he didn't know why. But the reactions happened all the same.
A giant of a man stood before the passionate singer, this man stood a head taller than anyone in the gala with a magnifying presence. His tuxedo shimmered under the chandeliers glow, Finn saw the broad back, the long arms folded, the tapering waist, those legs that went on forever down to not shoes but sandals of leather over pale feet. A soft hint of roses and blood and the forests filled his nostrils as he breathed in the scents of Barnabas, High Prince of Darkness and Air.
"Barna?!" Finn breathes his name, the feeling of frost becoming a cold storm encircling him and he comes to realize it was this Fae's magic. Slowly Barna turned away from the music makers and the look of stunned wonder in those dark eyes was enough to shatter Finn's heart and rebuild it back in the same moment. The dark sharply styled beard that wrapped around the pale skin of Barna's handsome face reminded Finn of a Lion's mane. The beard grew up into slicked back dark hair also styled to resemble the feathers of a Raven it was clear that every aspect of Barna had been someone's design. With the crown of black and red roses Barna wore Finn knew it was Nissa, Barna's sister who styled the Prince. Finn looked into the near black shrewd eyes that were locked with his. Finn followed the line of Barna's large curved nose and enjoyed the full pale pink lips almost obscured by the black mustache.
He could feel Barna's gaze on him, studying him and wondered if the man he hadn't seen in centuries was committing his details to memory as well. It was as if the rest of the world fell away and it was just the two of them. Barna's gaze moved across Finn like hands, taking him in each detail and presented itself to the Fae as fascinating. The last time he had seen Finnegan he had been in chains of iron that scalded and blistered the skin as it did all Fae. Bloody cuts covered his body from the fists and feet of his father Erutus' guards. The perfect always looking on the edges of sleep eyes now had been barely able to open from the bruises and broken bone. This vision before him seemed almost too good to be true. Barna's face fought the neutrality he tried to force on himself. It had been hundreds of years since his last kiss. Things could have changed, Finneagan could, not feel the same about him, or he could?
"Finnegan." Barna breathed out the word, his deep voice held the same cold magic of Death upon it. The visible shiver that ran across Finn's body making a small smile to break through the mask of Barna's calm placid face.
"You're real?" Finn asked and Barna watches tears grow at the edges of Finn's eyes like tiny diamonds and roll down those round cheeks. Mindful of the humans around him, Barna moved towards Finn. He raised a hand and rubbed away the tears on the smaller man's cheeks. Aware it was improper of him to touch Finn's face Barna felt he couldn't be proper with the man. He encompasses Finn's space as if it's his own. He steps closer still as Finn's mouth opened Barna took his face in his large hands and leaned in slowly. He presses his mouth against Finn's. There was nothing proper in his claiming of Finn's mouth, his long tongue slipping into Finn's mouth and exploring the mouth for the first time in four hundred years.
Finn's arms moved on their own as he held onto Barna's waist. He felt the soft coarse fabric of the tuxedo jacket. It shimmers beneath his calloused finger tips, a part of him knows it's not normal. That none of this is normal but as the heat meets cold at his lips he tried not to care. To embrace the moment even with it's impossibility had never been his way. He grips the jacket and opens his mind, as teeth bite his bottom lip pain ripples across his mind like a drop of rain into a placid lake surface. Flashes of violence appear across his mind, battles in the land of Fae show themselves in a collage of carnage. He see's Barna at the center of each scene covered in blood.
He removes his hands from the jacket and presses them against Barna's chest putting distance between them. Finn breathes in gasps, when had he forgotten to breathe? Barna's chest rises and falls the same.
"You're wearing your victims!?" Finn gasps
"My enemies. Yes. But that isn't your concern, it's mine. I've missed you so much." Barna dismisses the fact that his Tuxedo was made from the hair of the scalps of his enemies as if it was just as unimportant as the stares around them. Finn's eyes widened.
"Why are you here Barnabas?" Finn demanded keeping his voice low
"Would you believe me if I said, I just wanted to see you?" Barna asked. Finn swallowed past the lump in his throat.
"Dance with me and find out if I'm lying." Barna held out a hand. Finn took it and Barna led him past the people who had not discreetly watched them to where couples danced. They were two men holding one another, a few people stared but Finn, so lost in his wonder, didn't notice. It had been so long since the two had seen one another.
"I had a mission in the land of men. Nissa suggested I find you to apologize for my father. No one besides Father and I know what you and I were to one another. That secret has remained in place for four hundred years. I rarely miss anything, you know that. But I do miss you." Barna states, his eyes locked on Finn's as the two moved in tandem. Their feet moved without their thoughts telling them to do so as the band's music turned to slower almost waltz-like ballroom pieces of music. The singer's voice fades in and out of Finn's comprehension as he dances.
"You killed people," Finn breathes before Barna turns him in a clockwise motion. As Finn spins Barna brings him in closer and then releases him gently, their hands still locked at the fingers. The look of pure sorrow on Barna's face is the only confirmation he receives.
"You bathed in their blood. That's ...." Finn trailed off as Barna danced him around the band and the other dancers. It felt as if the room were what was spinning to Finn. People and things blurring before his eyes but Barna remained clear in his vision. Finn tried to keep his perception clear.
"My father has many enemies and they are now my enemies. You never played war, I wouldn't allow it. Not for you, never you." Barna states as he pulls Finn against him and the two stare in one another's eyes. The blue rings that glows around Barna's pupils reminded Finn of the ocean in direct sunlight. He could feel the spells and magic washing over him, and knew Barna was bewitching him. A part of him wanted it, wanted the feeling of coldness to wash over his body. Remind him of the connections to the world of Fairy.
(This is not real) the singular line from his own mind shatters the allure. He blinks, stopping the movement as he bites down on his own lip til the taste of copper is on his tongue. For a split second he sees himself, his face nearly entirely covered in a liquid, dark and viscous alive with magic. But when he blinks again he rears back from Barna now fully aware of what was happening to him.
"You were ...taking control of me..." Finn utters. Rage flitting about his mind as if a caged animal, each thought, each breath causing the liquid to recede back up his head and return to Barna through the blue glowing rings of his eyes. The sight of it horrifies Finn even as Barna reaches for him. Finn ran, moving around people. Tears brimming his eyes as he tried his best to get away from the man for four hundred years he had missed, Mourned, and loved. Barna doesn't move. The darkness of his magic floating around him now. He can feel Finn's emotions, feel the sting of betrayal, the burning anger for him. Sighing he turns his back and gazes at the band of four people. The woman looks back at him fear in her eyes. The woman's eyes flow with tears from the weight of his magic on her. He tilts his head to the left and she tilts hers to the right. He raises a hand and she reaches for it and as she does, she vanishes from the ballroom entirely never to be seen by human eyes again.
Down the hallway of the Hotel Dante Finn stumbles. He gasps for breath, his magic what little remained dwindled on the edge of nothing. Was that Barna as well, he wondered? It felt as if his very body was sucked dry of almost all life to the point moving felt like a struggle. He slid to the right towards a wall just to catch his breath.
Behind him a figure follows. Dressed in a simple black tuxedo that was ill fitting for the tall lanky man. His steps were soft, quiet as a church mouse as he followed Finn down the well lit hallway. Finn slumps against a wall, his vision blurring from shed tears. Barna covered in blood, Barna who he loves filled his mind. So lost in his thoughts, he didn't know the other man was there until a fist caught him in his back. The pain lit up his body as if he were Christmas lights being plugged in.
Every part of him seemed to catch fire from the act of brutality. He stumbled forward and fell into the ground as a foot connected with his side.
"What was the GODDAMN PLAN FINN! Seduce the Debutante or wave your fag ass all over the goddamn dance floor with some rich asshole," the familiar voice of Rufio Sinclair shouts as another kick caught Finn along the side of his face. Blood splattered the carpet from his busted nose and lips..
Rufio's broad flat wine colored face was a mask of rage as he backed away from Finn. Years of planning, money spent down the drain all because of whoever that had been on the dance floor. Rufio gritted his crooked teeth as he glanced at the bloody body of his friend.
"Still alive Fag?!" The thick South Asian voice of Rufio asks as he crouches before the man and lifts his head. Rufio bashes Finn's face with a well planted fist. He taunts and sneers unaware that the hallway was growing darker by the second. Each fluorescent light going out one by one on both ends until finally only the few feet around him was lit. Finally as a chill came over Rufio he turns and looks around. The wrongness of the darkness all around him confused him. He wipes a bloody hand over his face as he gawks in either direction.
"What the fucking fuck!?" He shouts in his thick island accent.
"Who turned out the fucking lights!" He tries again and notices his breath creating little heated puffs in the unearthly chill. Barna steps out of the darkness, his pale skin catching the lone light above their heads. His eyes black pools with glowing blue rings, his nostrils flared as his mouth opens and the liquid that had once covered Finn's face spews out of his mouth splashing across Rufio's face and forcing itself inside his eye sockets, up his nose and into his mouth. Once the liquid was done consuming the man from the inside out Barna reached for it and it flowed up from the pile of bones and husks of dehydrated skin and clothing. It swam up his large hand and into his body through his pores becoming a part of him once more.
The feelings of love and anger warred within him as he crouched down and gently picked up the body of his love. The last light in the hallway went out as he traveled the darkness away from the Hotel Dante using his magic to take him anywhere he wanted to be. Barna clutched Finn tighter to his chest as the pair rode the darkness of the Eartth together.