December 25, 2012 by Lyn
Saturday, December 20, 2003
“Have fun, Agra. Behave yourself, Reese. Indigo, kiss kiss. Stay good, Brydan.” Mike brushed his hand over their backs, one at a time, as they left the weekly cy’ree gathering. “Liliandra. Sweetie. Gabriel. Tess-and-Lucian.” Ardell and Shadrach had taught Mike not to allow the Kept of his cy’ree at these gatherings; the Kept were generally miserable, even if they weren’t allowed to show it, and if they were given a little more room, they ended up not turning as dark the next year. “Speed…”
The Kept within his cy’ree were another matter, of course. Speed, Liliandra. Liliandra was her own case in many ways. If it hadn’t been for Jeremiah…
…But then, if it hadn’t been for Leo; if it hadn’t been for Wren and Shiva, if it hadn’t been for Joff… There were any number of people in this school who were only functional because of the people around them.
“Mike.” Speed tilted his head up, clearly asking for a kiss. And Mike leaned down and gave it to him; that was the agreement he’d made with Gregori. Besides, the boy’s kisses were hotter than some people’s full-on sex.
“Take care of yourself.” Mike patted Speed’s ass in parting. “And, lovely boy, eat something. Tell your Keeper I said so.”
“Yes, sir.” Speed’s wink was insouciant. Speed’s whole presence was insouciant. “You, too.”
“Have no fear. I eat more than enough. Now go on.”
“Trying to get rid of us?” Liliandra saw too much. Of course she did; why they’d ever thought mixing the genes that got her was a good idea, Mike would never know. Possibly far too much wine had been involved.
“Of course I am, lovely thing. Back to Jeremiah before he comes looking for you. None of us want that.”
“Of course, sir.” She dropped an entirely sarcastic curtsy and scurried away. Scurried. Only Lolly could scurry like that.
Mike leaned against the wall as the last of them left. In just about twenty minutes, Miryam would slip her way in here. He didn’t know what arrangement she’d made with Agravain and Damaris, and when he asked, she sidestepped his questions with distractions and smiles.
Mike was not in love; Mike did not fall in love. The Daeva had tried that, once or twice, when younger, and found it entirely unsatisfying. But there were a few students this year who had really, really caught its attention.
Lemon, of course. Mike caught a blush coming to its cheeks and quickly shifted it away. To get caught like that by a Hugr working, to lose control – no matter what Luke and Reid thought, Mike had some self-control. He rarely knocked up students, and when he did so, he tried to make sure they were ready.
Lemon… Lemon was not his Student, tended to, like Belfreja, call him Professor VanderLinden, and did not seem to think it would be appropriate to go on a date with Mike. Mike was not heartbroken… but he had to admit he was a little disappointed. Usually, if you got a woman pregnant, she’d at least chat over coffee with you afterwards.
It wasn’t that Mike was lacking for intimate company, of course. There were all his Students, and he always had a lot of them. All of them, in some way or another, quite friendly. He need not, if he was so inclined, ever spent a night alone.
And he lay in bed alone at night, thinking about the ones he couldn’t have. Or couldn’t have again. Or could have, and couldn’t have at night. It was enough to drive a Daeva mad. It was almost enough to send him calling Manira, to see if the Pretty Poison had any advice.
“Professor VanderLinden? Mike?”
“Miryam. Please do come in.”
Perhaps he would just enjoy going mad a little longer.
This story was written in response to Rix’s donation and request for Mike, and how he sees the 9th Cohort.
For every $5US donated, I will write 300 words on the character or situation of your choice. In addition, every donation will bring you to a small snippet of story – a new snippet every Wednesday! Want more?