Blood Ties

"...They're in the basement, Mummy said they'd be best off there," she smiled over her shoulder, choosing to ignore the mention of their parents. She didn't believe that anything bad would happen, at least not physically, but bringing attention to it by replying would only upset her. Her family weren't perfect, but she refused to believe anything as bad as abuse would take place - and so giving it time by discussing it was hardly worth it.

"I'm proud of you already, silly. Just you having the confidence to do this makes me proud," she laughed lightly, sitting back onto the bed. "I mean, it's amazing, isn't it? You going off into the world like this. It feels like yesterday that Mummy gave birth to you and I got to hold you-- just be careful out there, Remmie. I know you're not a baby anymore but I have a right to be worried."
 
"Can you head down there for me? I'll finish up here," he reassured as he grabbed less necessary things, like little mementos and whatnot. Neatly wrapping books and things he had been given, he huffed as he tugged the admittedly heavy suitcase a tad. He could only imagine how Dante would buckle under the weight since humans were pathetic compared to his own strength.

"Okay, my sister is fetching your things," he said after heading into the guest bedroom, a grin on his lips as he spotted Dante. "Luckily for you, the weather is beautiful right now. We mustn't stay much longer, yes? I would hate to be found only for you to be hurt. I'm sorry."
 
"Hey, your Dad couldn't hurt me. I mean-- I mean, sure, he probably could, but I'm not that weak, dude. Did karate until I was 10. You don't forget that shit; it's like riding a bike. I might be rusty but I could chop a man's head off if I needed to with one swoop of my hand," he playfully boasted, feigning seriousness until his grin broke the charade. He couldn't be mad at the other forever, even if he was completely suspicious of the decision to hide his belongings and then refuse to explain why they had done so. It wasn't worth getting pissed off about it any longer, not when he was about to head off travelling with someone he hoped could become his boyfriend; he definitely liked him enough to ask him to make things official later on down the line, anyway.

"So, it'll be fun, yeah? Iceland first; we're getting on a ferry for that. We can go whale-watching. I know my readers will eat that up, as will my boss. It'll make for a good photo or two-- but the memory will be insane. It's gonna be great, Rembrandt," he promised eagerly, daring to test their feelings by offering a kiss. For all he knew, last night was a result of the alcohol for Rembrandt; not attraction. It paid to test where he was and how he felt with a kiss.
 
“What’s a ferry?” He asked obliviously. “It’s a type of boat, yes? I had heard about them in one of my books but I have never seen one,” he admitted with a shy smile. “As for whales, I’ve seen them in drawings and photographs but I imagine that a real whale is beautiful. My daddy and mommy went to Africa for a short time and hunted a giraffe. When my daddy showed me the skull of the giraffe, I was horrified because they’re so big,” he explained, taking in the interior of the bedroom one last time before his adventure.

“I’m most excited to go to the beach,” he admitted. “I’ve never been to the ocean before, I’ve only taken a dip in the pond a bit off from our property. Perhaps a nice swim in Spain, on the docks,” He babbled eagerly, his legs swinging a tad as he sat on the bed.
 
"Well, I've already done Spain and I doubt my editor will let me pop back just so I can have a romantic moment on some beach with the guy I'm into-- but there are tons of hot places on the list. Greece being one of 'em. You like your history, right? Plenty to look forward to when we go to Athens then, huh? We can spend the next three months enjoying ourselves," he nodded as he grabbed his hand tightly and made his way from the room. Sneaking out of the home seemed childish, and he never expected himself to be in this situation, but he wanted to avoid the anger he assumed Rembrandt's father would show. He had no idea what went on in the house, but the impression that he had been given wasn't a good one. He was wrong, of course, but he could only assume that Rembrandt's father was abusive and that's why Rembrandt, a grown adult who ought to do what he wanted, was so fearful of him. If that was the case -as he wrongly guessed-, then he felt no remorse for sneaking out with Rembrandt and bringing him on the work trip.

"...Even if we don't work out, you shouldn't come back here, Rem," he muttered once safely beyond the gates of the home, taking in the rolling hills with a bright smile, able to enjoy it all now the storm had stopped and he wasn't soaked to the bone like the last time he was out in them. "It's not healthy, the setup here. You're a grown man, y'know? You should be able to date a cute guy and go out with him without anyone freaking out-- you shouldn't be living in fear. I, uh... look, think about it, okay? You could come back to Canada with me, I can show you my hometown. That's gotta be better than living here."
 
The minute he stepped out beyond the gates of his home, Rembrandt let out a deep sigh of relief. He loved his family dearly and fully intended to return but that didn’t mean he wasn’t excited by his journey, as was evident by his eager grin as he adjusted his cloak, knowing it was far from the normal jackets and hoodies people wore in modern day. Sticking close to Dante, he took in the houses more clearly now.

“Ah... I don’t... know if I could do that,” he replied cautiously as he moved quickly from the gate, especially since the sun would rise soon. “I know my family may seem strange but it is in fact for the better that I return home in the future. I’ll... explain more, perhaps when we’re on a train,” he offered, only to pause when his stomach growled. He ignored it though, despite it being a horrible idea. “Let’s hurry, now.”
 
"...You're really quirky, you know that? But it's cool; I like quirky," he laughed, deciding that pondering Rembrandt's words would only give him a headache he didn't need. It also wasn't the ideal start to the journey, especially since he could see how little Rembrandt wanted to discuss it, and causing that sort of tension before they had really started their trip together was hardly great.

"Got a few hours ahead of us; walking through the hills and all that. We can stop off at a village or two get refreshments. We should be able to catch the 6 o'clock train up at the border to the next country to take us right up into Scotland; that's where we'll get the ferry to Iceland. It's fun, yeah? A real adventure," he grinned, grabbing his hand in his own to try and recuperate some of the romance. "...We haven't talked about last night, you know. About what happened. I mean, I don't think you regret it, but-- god, was I not good or something? I don't-- I'm not the most experienced; in the bedroom department, I guess. If it was shit, I'm sorry."
 
“What do you mean? You were great! Why would you think otherwise?” He praised, looking up at the other with a snort and a smile. “Don’t put yourself down so much, Dante. You’re a wonderful gentleman, both in public and in the bathroom,” he murmured, his brows raised suggestively, giving the human’s hand a tight squeeze.

“I would love to enjoy a nice meal with you? Perhaps something warm, like stew and some hard bread with warm tea, or perhaps a glass of wine,” he suggested, his excitement rising again. “If there’s a restaurant with a fireplace, that would be lovely as well.”
 
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"You just didn't mention it so I assumed I must have been rubbish. I dunno. No guy wants to be told they're shit at sex-- I certainly don't, anyway," he laughed quietly, taking a final glance back at the other's home, only really relaxing when he saw it go out of sight. It meant that they were officially alone to travel, and that the other's father wasn't going to storm after them to put a stop to it, which he feared would happen until they were safely far enough away.

"I can't magic all that up and I don't have the time to, like, rush around the hills looking for a village pub that serves all that, dude. We're on a tight schedule after I got sick and stuff, so... we kinda just have to rush-- but hey, once we're in Iceland and things get back on track, we can find a cute restaurant and do all that. I need to review food and stuff anyway, it's something my editors want me to add."
 
“Well, my father isn’t very keen on the fact that I prefer my company to be with gentlemen,” he replied quietly, his cheeks growing pink as he held onto the other tighter. “My daddy is very, Ah... traditional. He prefers to keep to the books, which is frustrating. My daddy has traveled to the ends of the world with my mommy and the moment he had my sisters, he ended it all and decided to keep us hidden. It’s... a complicated situation,” he tried to explain while trying to avoid any real details.

“Now it’s time for me to make memories, as you said. I’m an adult, I can do as I please, yes? I’m sure my daddy will be upset, might lock me up for the next 50 years perhaps, but it’ll be worth it if it means I can spend a little time with you,” he whispered.
 
"You know, you aren't giving me the best impression of your father. He sounds like he's a homophobic abuser, dude - and you seriously think I'd be happy letting you wander back home after all this? I dunno. You do what you want, but I think you're best off starting a life away from an asshole like that. You shouldn't be so scared to do what you want," he mumbled, shrugging the conversation off as quickly as he could, choosing to instead give Rembrandt's hand a squeeze and move onto something decidedly more positive.

"...So we're kinda dating now, right? Or have I just assumed-- I think we are, aren't we? All this talk of romantic restaurant meals and sightseeing and all that; it's what couples do. I'm all for that, Rembrandt; dating you, I mean."
 
“You are?” He quickly replied, more than happy to keep his family off his mind. The fascinating buildings and strangers that passed were enough to catch his attention so it wasn’t all that difficult, his wide eyes watching as he took in stuff as simple as local joggers in their neon clothes ran alongside their dogs, and the sight of people casually chatting on the phone. He had seen the laptop and computer but that was the furthest he had interacted when it came to modern technology. Holding a cheek with his free hands, he had to keep himself from growing dizzy from the overstimulation.

“Oh boy,” he whispered in surprise at everything. “This is all so amazing, Dante! The way that humans have adapted and evolved is so fascinating, it’s amazing. My parents insist that we keep isolated from all that sorts,” he explained casually as he peered into windows curiously. “You’ll need to teach me more about this all, Dante - it’s what partners do, yes?” He questioned, a shy smile on his lips.
 
"You seriously have no idea about this stuff? I mean, that's hard to believe-- god, your parents really didn't let you live, did they?" He sighed, shaking his head to himself in disgust. He started off thinking this adventure was some cute move, but he was slowly starting to feel as though he had saved Rembrandt from something. He didn't know if his parents were really bad people, but from what he had gathered, they were hardly good to their son if they kept him so isolated that he needed to be taught about things most kids knew about.

"Yeah, I'll teach 'ya. You need a phone so we can text and stuff when I head back to Canada. Don't worry, you're smart, you'll pick it all up in no time," he promised with a kiss against his forehead, smiling brightly at the confirmation that they were dating. He wasn't so good with that sort of stuff, so having it accepted without some embarrassing rejection of 'needing more time' first was a relief.
 
Letting it a bashful giggle in response to the affection, he dramatically fanned himself with his hand after letting go of Dante’s. It was dramatic and cheesy but that was just how Rembrandt was; dramatic and cheesy. All of his mannerisms that weren’t ‘be proper and keep quiet” we’re learned from the books he had read growing up and that overly romantic ideology was clear by just how easily flustered he got.

“I do hope I don’t hinder your travels,” he added after a moment of getting himself back together. “I’m simply an observer given a chance of a life type, don’t get too distracted from your work, yes? Ah, I want to read your blog!”