AN:
I was asked to write something about how Connor and Lawrence met. I didn't think I was going to but on a boring afternoon I started it and then this monster came out! This is mostly story driven, the sex isn't until near the end. I hope y'all enjoy!
I hate my sister.
"Are you here to steal something?" She spat out, scowling at me.
"I'm here because the landlord called me," I rolled my eyes.
"You hated dad."
I looked at her like she was an idiot, "Doesn't mean the landlord should have to deal with all of dad's shit."
She scoffed, called me an off color word for queer, then turned her back to me.
Dad had been dead a few days now, I didn't even bother going to his funeral. I have good memories of my childhood, he was big into history and archeology, mostly of ancient civilizations. He would read books to me, some with words so big I had no idea what they meant even with context clues. I didn't care though, because dad had always looked so happy. If I stole anything from his home it would be those old history books. I could read them and remember when my dad looked at me with joy. Not unbridled disgust and disappointment as he did the moment I came out. My sister was younger, much younger than me, so it was easy for him to mold her into a hateful bitch. She was harsher than he was though. She used words to tear me down. Her fists. The moment I was 18 I left and hadn't spoken to them since. That had been years ago, I was actually shocked the landlord had my number.
I went upstairs and found his books. I started making a pile of thrift store, storage and trash. I couldn't help myself and I would thumb through the ones with familiar covers. I was a history major because of him. In spite of him.
I came across a book I didn't recognize. It was older than the rest, much older, falling apart in a dirty Ziploc bag. I carefully opened it and the smell that wafted up was a mix of stale paper, dirt and something akin to vomit. I held my breath and pulled it open.
Inside were letters to a language I had never seen before, characters that seemed to be spinning, with no left to right or up to down direction. I tried reading them right to left, bottom to top. On my next go I tried sounding out the words. It was reminiscent to Latin but clearly older, I used the pronunciation closest to what I had learned in college. I went slow, feeling a grin form as I studied this peculiar text. My sister be damned there was no way I wasn't keeping this!
I felt cold air creep up my neck like there was a draft by a window, but I ignored it. I continued to speak, low with a thick tongue trying to form sounds it couldn't shape around. I felt the air turn colder. I tapped the last word and spoke it. The air was freezing, I heard a pop of power, saw a near blinding flash of light then was weightless.
When I landed I was in an ornate room, bottom on plush carpet looking up at the most gorgeous man I had ever seen. And he looked just as shocked as I felt.
His eyes, jade like the stone, were wide, framed with long straight chestnut colored hair. He was wearing a floor length red robe that looked high end yet archaic. Two things were instantly clear, this man hadn't brought me here and I had no idea where 'here' was. So I panicked.
I scrambled to my feet, panting, "Wh-wh-what the
fuck
?" I was screaming, I couldn't help it, "Who!? Where?!!!"
The man spoke, holding up both hands to show he was unarmed, "Be still," his voice was deep and kind.
I didn't give a shit, "Where am I?!"
"Calm yourself," the man took a step towards me and, God help me, my brain still supplied
fuck he's
tall
even in the midst of this. He took a deep breath, "now then, what's your name?" He smiled softly but it didn't reach his eyes. He was trying to make me comfortable, but lackluster eyes won't do that.
I started to look around the room, frantically swiveling my head back and forth. The entire room was opulent, books from floor to ceiling on three walls, a desk, vanity and small though comfortable looking bed. No windows though and only one door, which thankfully my back was to. I could run if I needed to. There was nothing I could use as a weapon. Not unless I started lobbing books at the beautiful man. I was beginning to feel trapped and I started to freak out again.
I heard him call out to me and I whipped my head around to look at him wide eyed, "What did you say?"
The man's jade eyes slid away, "I merely called to you."
"You said my name!" I was practically heaving for breath, "I never gave you my name!"
His eyes slid back to mine but before he could speak his door flew open. I jumped and spun around and froze. The man who came through was
massive
. Large muscles, thick thighs that could crack a man's skull, broad chest with impressive pectoral muscles, powerful arms and a trim waist. He was handsome too, short blonde hair in a complimentary modern cut, stunning hazel eyes and a square jaw. He towered over me intimidating as fuck and looked down and narrowed his eyes.
When he spoke, my blood ran cold at the words, "A mortal?"
Holy hell these men weren't human? What the fuck does that even mean?!
I didn't wait I just...ran.
I heard the green-eyed man, if they can even be called that anymore, call out to me but I was already sprinting.
I seemed to be in a mansion. White marble floors with walls so high I couldn't see the ceiling. The hall was lined with dark oak doors and there were so many beautiful people walking the hallways. Most stopped when they saw me. A few gasped. One tried to grab me.
I ran until I could barely breathe, my vision going dark at the edges, my lungs burning. I rounded a corner and stumbled into the arms of someone. I blinked, my vision filling with red, then gold piping and finally the sensation of soft fabric. I jerked back and looked up. The chestnut-haired man was holding me, looking worried.
"Be still," he breathed, pleading with me.
I was too tired, too scared and confused, so I just nodded.
He nodded back then helped straighten my posture then asked me to follow him.
Walking through the door of his room I saw that the intimidating blonde was still there, sitting on the vanity, his booted feet dwarfing the seat they were placed upon.
"First things first, we should introduce ourselves," the brown-haired man said.
I spoke, "You already know my name and you," I glanced at the blonde, "you called me mortal..."
The blonde nodded, but the other spoke first, "I am called Lawrence, the god of rebirth and this," he indicated the blonde, "is my brother Bartholomew, the god of war."
God of war...no wonder he looked like he could stop a freight train with the back of his foot, "Gods..." I lowered my eyes, finally beginning to calm. I wasn't sure if I really believed them, but enough strangeness had occurred that I knew at the very least they truly weren't human. At any rate I was pretty sure I wasn't in danger, still though, "how did I get here?"
"You read a book I presume," Lawrence's deep voice was soothing, "ancient."
"I...I did, but...I didn't think I was pronouncing the words right."