Ben, standing in the wings and listening to Kerr's words, nodded at them, because they made sense. He believed them with his head if not his heart. He'd considered himself mentally superior to Lazarus, for the other had always seemed shallow in his need for control. From what he remembered, Lazarus had been a one-trick wonder, relying heavily on his charisma and sex appeal. It had been stupid of Ben to underestimate him in this way. Like Kerr had said - Lazarus had thousands of years and had never relied on any mental powers to make people submit to him. Only his words. Of course he was masterful with them. Just because he didn't pull out everything he had didn't mean it wasn't there waiting in reserve.
Ben intended on going back to his seat, for him and Kerr to sit beside Ichabod, to draw courage as a familial unit, but then Jake was up on the stage and Ben didn't want to move into view while he was up there. When listening to Jake's recount of what he'd told Ben, he fumed and glared at Kerr.
He's fucking lying, he spat to Kerr telepathically.
He told me that we were both leaving, but then he told me to go to you. He didn't tell me to get his fucking "staff".Not that he remembered, anyway. Ben's desire to leave spiked, and while he'd been sitting in the wings, he'd spied a small door that would lead out to the alley behind the theatre. He was about to ask Kerr if they could leave, figuring they would get Ichabod to meet them outside unless he wanted to continue watching, when the golden man that Ben had admired at Charon's party snuck around from the theatre's edge and approached them.
Ben didn't know what the newcomer wanted, but he wasn't going to listen to him here. "Outside," he whispered, pointing to the door before heading that way, pulling Kerr with him by the hand.
Continued in
Stormclouds* * * * *
While Jake was in the audience, Lazarus had found it hard to look at him. He’d noticed him sitting beside some other guy, one that looked vaguely familiar. Certainly not someone from Jake’s inner circle. He’d obviously moved on to the next pretty thing, replacing Lazarus with a new pet, a new project, a new man to put in his bed.
Fickle prick.
Fuck, it hurt. It was hard to contain the pain roiling messily inside him. This was the moment that he’d been waiting for, though. This was why he’d let Jake’s people take him to the cell below, why he’d gone along with the arrest, why he hadn’t fought them off. Because he’d wanted to talk to Jake. And even after that discussion in his cell, even after Lazarus had condemned Jake for making things too public, Jake had once again made everything public.
So be it. Lazarus would speak in front of everyone. Let them all see the knife Jake put in his back.
Lazarus lifted his gaze and connected it to Jake’s. Yes, here was the pain again, a living breathing thing that sat high on his chest and squatted in his throat, making it burn. This time he didn’t shy from it or press it down. He let it rise, awakening emotions he’d long ago buried. He would bring them all to the surface. Let Jake feel every one of his words. Let them cut him and make him bleed as Lazarus bled.
“Jake,” he said, and already he could hear the timbre in his voice was changed and raw. He reached up a hand to touch his throat, but moved past and stroked it through his hair instead, mussing it a little. This wasn’t going to be a tidy conversation. He couldn’t hold eye-contact for a moment, and he dropped it to Jake’s chest. Lazarus swallowed a few times, hoping it would help his voice smooth out. “Where do I even begin?” he asked, and raised his stare to connect it to the younger vampire.
Lazarus moved around his table so he could be a little closer to his ex-lover, so he wouldn’t have to raise his voice. Sabrina and Jake would both have a good view of his expression. Fuck the audience. This wasn’t for them.
“Our relationship. It started off as fun, yeah,” Lazarus nodded. “But now, because of where we are,” Lazarus gestured at the stage, “I can see it meant more to me than it did to you.” His voice broke halfway through and he looked up at the ceiling, studying the unpainted rafters. “And I get to hear how you feel about me now, with everyone watching and listening, instead of that moment in my cell, in private. I guess you thought I might manipulate you. I guess you still don’t see me as… a friend, a partner… a subordinate. My own stupid fault for trusting anything different from you, I guess.” He waved vaguely to Sabrina. “I do have a point, I promise,” he said and stared at the floor for a long moment, gathering himself.
Lazarus looked back at Jake, his expression plain. “I do have a question for you, but you need to hear how
I saw everything before you can answer me properly. So let me tell you about that night, as I felt it, as I saw it.
“You came back from the party and told me Sabrina held a portion of the city. It was a shock. At the time you hadn’t realised she’d cursed me once before. I was mad, but honestly, I was fucking scared. I wanted to hit something. I didn’t want to hit
you, so I turned my attention onto whatever was close at hand. Furniture. Your stuff, I know. But then you grabbed me and I didn’t think, I just reacted. My anger was gone, like that,” Lazarus snapped his fingers, “when you hit the wall. I realised what I’d done. I ran to you. I said sorry. I begged you to be okay. I picked you up and carried you to the bed. You started coming around then, you said a couple of words. The way… the way you were looking at me…”
“I wanted you to feel powerful,” Lazarus said, then scoffed a single laughter. “I wanted you to see me submit to you, to remind you that I answered to you. Nobody else gave me a chance, and you did, and I didn’t want to fuck that up. I bowed to you, I got down on my knees and I bowed to you, because you were my
king. And you let me do it, and we both know that position
means something to me. And you didn’t say no, and you didn’t say stop, and that’s all I have to go on because we both also know I have my ring.” Lazarus held it up, and his eyes grew glassy as he said the rest. “And you sit here,” he croaked, “and tell everyone you were scared of me, that you didn’t want me to hurt you again. But you didn’t tell
me. Your fledge… Sam… she came into our room and you sent her away, and I just watched it all unfold, thinking you were back to normal. And then you turned around and you came
back to me. You didn’t send me away. You didn’t tell me you wish I hadn’t done it. You didn’t give me
any clues.” Lazarus shook his head briefly. “So here I am, thinking we’re all good, and we even had sex again. And we did all those things, straight afterward, you were definitely willing that time, because
you touched
me. And now you sit here and say it was all a ruse, because you were
scared of me, when all I did was try to help you. And now I know I made a mess of it. But you didn’t
talk to me!”
Something was on his face. Lazarus touched his cheek and saw water on his fingertips. It took him a while to realise what it was.
“You asked me a question, when I was in the cell. You wanted to know how I felt about you, like you needed to hear it. Like you didn’t
know. I’ll tell you now. I loved you. It’s the reason I’m suffering through this.” He gestured at the stage again. “So now that you know my side, here comes the question.”
Lazarus took a deep breath and released it sharply. “Did I really rape you?”
