Conversion Day Fic: An Unexpected Gift August 2002 Jarvinia I don't own Forever Knight or any of its characters--just borrowing them for a bit. This takes place on the 24th and 25th of August after third season, and Last Knight either didn't happen, or happens later. I would like to thank amethystshells for all of her comments and suggestions. :) Please do not archive without permission (although, please do ask!). Note: This is an ADULT story (UF--Nick/LaCroix). Please do not read if you are not of legal age or may be offended. Otherwise, enjoy! ~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~ An Unexpected Gift The various customers of the Raven, mortals and vampires alike, fluttered around him with their usual enthusiasm for life. The mortals were, as far as they were concerned, living life to the fullest...even as his kind watched them with hunger. Occasionally, he wondered what it would be like to live one day at a time, for the most part not caring about what was happening around him. This present time made life so simple for the mortals. Those here had no worries of if the crops would fail, if war would postpone some event or bring a holiday, or if their children would die of a fever. Modern times and technology solved most of those problems. War, perhaps, was one thing that was still unpredictable...but it also didn't have the fun it used to. As a general, he had delighted in what that brought--the battles, the blood, the triumph.... And then it had all been ripped away. LaCroix sat at the bar, his inner anger unseen to those around him. On this date, oh so many years ago, Divia had brought him across. Damn her for it. Although he had gained eternal life, he had lost everything else. He had lost his home, his career...everything. If he had known exactly what his choice would have entailed, he honestly didn't know what he'd choose. In truth, he suspected it wouldn't have changed anything. But if he had known that there was still time to escape the city before Vesuvius destroyed it...then, he just might have responded differently. He could have, if he'd lived, continued as a general in Rome's army. Yet, after he'd been brought across, he knew immediately that he would never want to go back. Never. It had been a shock when he'd killed Divia, but he had known it was the right thing. Divia, once his precious little girl, had changed drastically when she'd become a vampire. Perhaps her evil was always there and it had merely been amplified...but either way, she wasn't the same. Then, only a few months ago, she had returned. His anger flared again remembering the chaos Divia created. She killed several vampires, some of whom he'd almost considered friends. And then, she'd tried to destroy Nicholas. Believing she did, he knew that had he the ability, he would have ripped her head from her body with his bare hands. When Nicholas had staked her, he had felt an immediate sense of relief. His son had done something that he, looking back on the situation, didn't know if he could have done without help. Still, after all of these years, he remembered the sweet child Divia had once been. If Nicholas hadn't stopped him, he would have removed the wood, even if it meant Divia could, possibly, kill his son. Nicholas had saved him that night in more ways that one. Although she was once again destroyed, those memories had been very close to the surface of late. One of the reasons tonight was bothering him so much was because of that night. He still remembered, in exact detail, every second of the day Vesuvius awoke. It had been, for the most part, a normal day in Pompeii, the mountain looming a short distance away. Never, then, had he considered that mountain, which provided so much life to the area with its fertile soil, to be the destruction of his home. And yet, it did, eventually sealing the city away to be forgotten for centuries. As the night wore on, he continued his contemplation, his thoughts shifting swiftly from one thing to another before returning to that event. Even as the twenty-fourth passed, becoming the twenty-fifth, the memories lingered, their clarity holding his attention. In truth, Pompeii hadn't been destroyed until this day, and he knew that he would have to wait until the next night before the images began to fade. Again, as his thoughts focused on Divia's recent, and hopefully final death, he remembered Nicholas' simple offer. 'If you need me.' Although he had been very tempted to take it, he hadn't. What he needed was more than Nicholas would be able to give him. He knew that without even asking. As the Raven closed, he remained in the club, sitting at the bar almost as if it was still open. Thoughts and memories became one. Eventually, he shook himself out of the past. It was nearly dawn, and he headed up to his apartment, planning on sleeping the day away. That is, if he could. Upon entering, something seemed out of place. Not quite able to place what it was, he shrugged the feeling off. In the kitchen, he poured himself a half-full glass of blood. Then, drinking it, he started toward his room. Approaching, the feeling that something was amiss steadily increased. Reaching the door, he paused at finding it closed. When he had left earlier that night, the door had been open. He closed his eyes, focusing on the sensation...and what he found almost startled him. It was Nicholas' presence that had been what was out of place. He had been so preoccupied that he hadn't recognized it for what it was. As his hand rested on the doorknob, all he could think to himself was--why was Nicholas here? And, for that matter, why was his son in *his* room? Pushing the door open, he found yet another surprise. There, in the center of his bed, lay Nicholas, sound asleep. The sight lured him closer, and his eyes darted over every inch of bare skin peaking out from amongst the rumpled sheets. It wasn't difficult to tell that the younger man was completely naked beneath the sheets, adding to the situation. LaCroix approached, halting just before the bed's edge. His son was exquisite. His attention floated over the younger's muscles, completely relaxed. Nicholas' lips were twisted into a faint smile, almost as if his son knew that he was watching...knew what he was thinking. Subconsciously, he reached forward, his fingers traveling lightly along Nicholas' jaw line. Next, they moved to his son's throat, lingering on the sensitive skin. He paused, a moment later feeling his son stir. Quickly, he pulled his hand back, straightening. As Nicholas' eyes locked onto him, LaCroix remained stiffly in place. Several seconds of silence passed, after which he calmly asked, "Why are you here?" Tensing slightly at the tone, Nick told him, "Because I am." The brief answer ruffled his nerves. He knew Nicholas' presence would be nothing but disappointment later. Resolutely, he decided to avoid the situation all together. Taking a step back, he gestured toward the door, speaking one, solid word, "Out." Nick held onto the sheets, stating, "I'm not leaving, LaCroix." Frustrated that Nicholas wouldn't leave, he reached forward, pulling the younger forcibly out of the bed and pushing him toward the door. "I know where this will lead, Nicholas. Leave before your guilt overwhelms you." Even as he finished speaking, his son turned to him, not a speck of uncertainty to be seen anywhere. Nicholas' breathing was slow and even, his arousal very apparent out of the corner of his eye. He refused to glance down, instead evenly holding his son's gaze. The younger's presence affected him far more than he wanted to acknowledge. "Leave," he again stated. When the other didn't move toward the door, but closer to him, he tensed. Holding up a hand, he said, "Don't, Nicholas. I know why you're here and what you intend. I also know what the results of this will be." "This is for you, LaCroix. It's a...gift of sorts." Sensing the elder man's apprehension, he told him, "I know exactly what I am doing. Let me do this. Don't push me away." With his son's last sentence, he momentarily closed his eyes. Even if he wanted to, he didn't know if he could stop what was happening. As Nicholas approached closer and closer, he took several steps back until finally, he had nowhere to go. Nicholas now stood in front of him, barely anything separating them, his back firmly against the wall. The smile, unusually playful, was just enough to divert his attention from his previous desire that Nicholas leave. In truth, he wanted nothing more than for the younger to stay...yet, he also didn't want them to be pushed apart-- something this usually led to. His son closed the distance between them, their lips nearly meeting. At the last possible second, he turned away through shear willpower. To himself, LaCroix tried to put things in order, but instead found himself reasoning on the situation. There was nothing apparent in his son's demeanor or in their bond to indicate any feelings of guilt. Not only that, but Nicholas was the sole instigator.... When the younger again tried to kiss him, this time he acquiesced. Their lips met, Nicholas' tongue fervently trying to push his lips apart. After several seconds, he relaxed, allowing the kiss to deepen. Then, suddenly, the sensation stopped. Opening his eyes, he found that Nicholas had pulled away, and before he was aware of what he was doing, he found himself attempting to initiate another kiss. But, he found his son holding him firmly against the wall. "LaCroix...before this goes any further, I want to say something." He paused, and looked slightly away. "I know how this day affects you...and I also know that this year is worse than usual because of Divia's return and death." He stopped again, sensing the elder man's uncomfortableness. "I'm not coming back to you, but I know this is something you've wanted. I've felt it. I'll stop now...if that's what you want?" Staring into his son's eyes, LaCroix knew he couldn't refuse. He closed his eyes, leaning back into the wall. Nicholas' lips captured his, their tongues intertwining out of instinct. Even as they explored the other's mouth, he could feel his shirt being undone. Soon, his bare chest met the younger's, and from that moment he was lost to any reason. Nicholas' lips trailed down the side of his neck, and then continued at a leisurely pace down his chest. The occasional sharp nips told him quite clearly that his son wasn't holding his nature back, something that made this even better. Despite it being over a century since they had been together like this, his memories of the past were returning with complete clarity. Barely aware of what was happening to him, even as Nicholas proceeded to undo his slacks, LaCroix literally basked in the ministrations he was receiving. Nicholas' actions were determined and precise. His son knew exactly what he was doing. As his pants and underwear were pulled down in one slow and excruciating action, his muscles tensed upon feeling fingers lightly trail along his thighs. He breathed in deeply, gasping as those same fingers gently caressed his erection. Feather light kisses were placed along his abdomen, arousing him further. Then, he found himself being engulfed by Nicholas' mouth, the younger's tongue knowing just the right places to touch and tease.... His hands wove themselves into his son's hair, the action almost desperate, not wanting this to end. Again, his mind wandered, and when the younger pulled back, he involuntarily shivered from the loss of sensation. He couldn't wait much longer. Their mouths again met, Nicholas' tongue roughly teasing his fangs. His shirt slipped off his shoulders, his hands pulling the other against him, deepening the kiss in an attempt to taste all that was there. His son stepped back and he followed, absently slipping out of his socks and shoes. Nicholas drew back, and their eyes met. The grin staring back at him hadn't lost any of the playfulness he'd seen earlier. Carefully prodding across their bond, he found that still, Nicholas had no feelings of guilt or trepidation. At that, LaCroix was quite pleased. A smile of his own crept to his lips, and he reached forward, spinning his son around. He pushed down on the younger's shoulders, and soon they were both kneeling. His son put his arms on the bed without a word on his part, and with no further warning, he entered Nicholas in one quick motion. Faintly surprised at how relaxed the younger was, he didn't wait before beginning to thrust within him. Establishing a rhythm, he turned his attention to Nicholas' needs, one hand encasing the other's erection. He stroked, gently at first, and then harder as he focused less on the specifics of what he was doing. He wasn't sure how much time passed, but he could feel his son's passion rising across their bond. Nicholas' knuckles whitened from holding the sheets and LaCroix offered his wrist. Feeling his blood being taken, LaCroix closed his eyes, holding his son as his body spasmed from pleasure. Once the younger calmed, he thrusted deep, pulling Nicholas' body back against his, slipping his fangs easily into the soft flesh before him. The blood invigorated him more than the climax they had built up to. He drank deeply of it, stopping only when he felt Nicholas weaken. Drawing back, his son leaned heavily against him. They sat there on the floor, neither moving for several minutes. When Nicholas began to pull away, LaCroix immediately reached forward, holding him in place. "Stay, Nicholas. Please." Those words were all that was needed. Watching his son turn and then stand, LaCroix did so as well. Before him, Nicholas bared his neck, inviting him to again take his blood. For a moment, he simply stared at the sight before him...the pale skin that was faintly rosy from activity, the almost imperceptive flow of blood within the throat.... Stepping closer, he took the offer, his fangs again embedding themselves into the flesh, Nicholas completing the circle a moment later. Fully aware that this would be a one-time occurrence, he wanted to make it a memory that would last until his son would return to him. Perhaps, someday, it would be possible to return the favor, but for now, the present was all that concerned him, and he was going to do everything possible to make this last.... *+.*+.*+.*+.*+. Landing near the precinct, LaCroix took his time walking toward his son's place of work. Upon waking, he had found Nicholas gone-- something that had saddened him. However, seeing the time, he realized his son had left not because of guilt, but because of his job. Then, as now, he could feel no regret through his link with the younger vampire, which pleased him greatly. His dreams had been good ones, mostly of past times with Nicholas when they had not been at such odds with one another. Not for a moment did his memories from Pompeii and Vesuvius' eruption intrude. Nor did his thoughts of Divia or being brought over push their way to the surface. In fact, his time with Nicholas had made all of that fade into the background. Entering the building, LaCroix carefully prodded the younger vampire's thoughts, trying to get his attention. When Nicholas looked up from his work, he smiled. He watched as his son returned the gesture and made his way toward him. Not letting the other get a word out, LaCroix raised his eyebrow slightly. Resting one hand on his son's shoulder, he said, "Thank you, Nicholas." Nick smiled, and he watched the elder man's mood become a little lighter. Then, his sire turned and left without another word. He closed his eyes, trying to judge just how LaCroix felt...and kept smiling when he discovered that everything had gone as he'd hoped. "Hey, Nick?" He turned, finding Tracy standing next to him. He hadn't even sensed her. "What was all of that about with LaCroix?" Looking toward the exit, he told her with a suppressed grin, "Nothing. Just a thank you for something I did for him." ~finis~ Jarvinia ~ jarvinia@gmx.com