By neko

Scene two: Antithesis

Soliloquy's hair is still wet when he returns to his brother's bed. He considered, briefly, spending the night in his own room, but that would only worry Monologue more. He doesn't need his space from his brother.

"'re back early," comes a sleepy murmur beside him. Monologue slides over to lay his head on his seated brother's thigh. "You're wet." It's observed in a tone that doesn't quite demand why.

"I wasn't the only one up tonight," he explains, hoping the distress in his veins doesn't show in his voice. "I really didn't feel like having company."

"'liloquy? Is something wrong?"

"No, it's nothing. Give me a minute to brush my hair and I'll be right back, all right?"

As he rises, though, Monologue's hand clasps his wrist, now fully awake. "Let me." Soliloquy nods and sits again.

Monologue is quiet as he passes the brush gently, working slowly from the bottom, and just as slowly Soliloquy relaxes, thinking that perhaps the subject is closed.

"Tell me."

He sighs. He won't lie, but he doesn't want to cause trouble, either. Leaning back into his brother's arms, he begins.

"Malevolence sat with me. We talked about his new script and the part he wants me to play. It sounds interesting." He can almost hear the exasperated go on in his head. After a moment, he does. "He asked about my scars."

The arms around him tighten protectively.

"It's all right. He apologized and didn't ask anything else."

"But?"

"He . . . implied certain things, as though he already knew."

"Did he touch you?" At the slight start that question provokes, he gently squeezes the body in his arms. "He's been watching you recently. It's subtle, but I've noticed. I don't think Sanguine likes it."

After a pause, Soliloquy replies. "Nowhere inappropriate."

"Show me."

He does, left and right hands tracing the path of Malevolence's touch, from cheek to neck and stomach to hip. Monologue follows his movements with fingers then lips, washing away the faintly dirty feeling he's had since his bath.

At last he touches the left side of his neck, not mentioning its significance, but Monologue seems to understand anyway. Not ungently, he kisses it so clean that blood comes to the surface.

For once, Soliloquy doesn't mind.