Across Two Divides: Arc One

ACROSS TWO DIVIDES

by Sol Crafter

Copyright 2013 © Sol Crafter

Smashwords Edition

ACROSS TWO DIVIDES: ARC ONE

Copyright 2013 © Sol Crafter. All Rights Reserved

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. Anything else is satire, parody, or meant to be humorous.

No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical including photocopying, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system now known or to be invented without permission of the copyright holder, except by a reviewer who wishes to quote brief passages in connection with a review or news article.

INTRO: This was my 2012 NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month) entry. Previously published on my FictionPress, Across Two Divides: Arc One covers Chapters 1-10.

I would love to know if anyone is enjoying this, so feel free to contact me on Twitter, Facebook, or at my blog.

Read some of my writing at Kimichee.com. Or check out my FictionPress account for raw feed stories.

CHAPTER ONE

-NICHOLAS & CHRISTIAN-

Pulling his long coat tight around himself, Nicholas tramped down the snow packed sidewalk. There were quite a few slippery spots, so he was keeping a careful eye out, but mostly he was just enjoying the warm burn of alcohol in his belly and the solid presence of Christian's arm wrapped around his. He couldn't help giggling as they passed the bottle of vodka back and forth, the crackle of the brown paper bag striking his fancy.

He glanced at his friend. Are we having fun yet? He spoke with what might be described as a posh British accent, but his English pronunciation was purely American.

Christian snorted, though his look was fond. I always have fun with you, darling, he said in his deep, smooth voice. It always sent a shiver down Nicholas' spine and he took great delight in making his friend read various articles to him.

Just so you know, Francis is going to be terrible tonight, Nicholas said. He seems to think that my friends are his friends, but his friends are his friends.

Say that ten times fast. Christian's blue-black hair was being tousled by the wind and his bronze skin looked as though the cold couldn't touch him. He wore a heavy wool coat and a rust colored scarf wrapped around his neck.

You really should have worn a hat. Nicholas reached up to adjust the navy blue knit beanie he'd pulled down over his own blond locks. It's colder than a witch's tit out here. I don't want to see you getting frostbite or something. He smiled slyly. I have need of your parts later.

Don't worry your head, darling, I am always careful to keep all my... parts... attached and in working order. I know how you can be. Christian pulled Nicholas closer against him and Nicholas gave a delighted hum, burrowing his face against the side of Christian's neck, nuzzling his cold nose in past the soft wool of the scarf so he could breathe in the warm scent of Christian's skin and the expensive cologne he favored.

There were other people hurrying up and down the streets, but it felt as though they were in their own world as they hurried toward the brownstone that had dozens of cars parked in front of it and released a careless burst of music and laughter every time the door was opened. The light was weak, the sun setting early in the winter, and there was the taste of snow on the air waiting to add itself to the earlier load.

One more sip, darling, then we'll enjoy your brother's open bar, Christian said. He tipped the bottle to his own lips and took a swallow before nudging the bottle against Nicholas' lower lip until he laughed and opened up, taking a mouthful.

Nicholas swallowed, then tugged Christian toward the brownstone. Come on, let's get in out of the cold. I feel like dancing!

Christian gave a warm chuckle as he hurriedly screwed the lid back on the bottle and tucked it into his coat pocket. You always feel like dancing.

Nicholas turned so he was walking backward, grinning at Christian. Just for that, I've put your name down on my mental dance card. Save one for me!

Always, Christian said, then reached out to catch Nicholas' arm and pull him out of the way before he slammed into a woman bundled up against the cold, her head lowered against the wind. Careful.

There was no resisting the delighted laughter that bubbled up out of Nicholas' throat. He felt warm and happy and...

Silly, he said, then shrugged at Christian's questioning look and wrapped his arms around his friend, hugging him. I think I'm just a bit more than tipsy and the party hasn't even started. Will you keep an eye on me tonight? Make sure I don't fall into bed with someone skeazy that will take advantage of my delicate nature? He quirked an eyebrow at Christian, who shook his head and tugged him toward the stairs.

I always keep an eye on you, Christian said.

Because I can't be trusted to take care of myself, Nicholas laughed.

Exactly.

They reached the bottom of the stairs and as they went up, careful on the snow-cleared, yet wet looking steps, the door above opened and a young woman with vibrant red hair came out backward, her laughter high and bell-like. I'll see you later, Frankie! She turned and trotted down the stairs, sparing them a glance out of bright green eyes, her lashes a dark fringe that brushed her cheeks with every blink. Hey! She gave a chin jerk, but didn't slow down before hitting the sidewalk and hurrying up the street.

Francis stepped outside in his jeans with the knees worn out and a black sweater that he'd pushed up past his elbows, leaving the tattoos that covered both arms bared, his only jewelry the silver medical alert bracelet on his right wrist. He held a sweating beer in his hand and used it to wave at Nicholas and Christian. There you are. I was starting to think you were going to blow me off.

Never to family, Nicholas said with a cheeky grin. Though I was starting to worry that we might not make it. The cab dumped us off nearly three blocks away and we had to hoof it. Like animals.

Those idiots were supposed to clear the sidewalks, but no one's come this way yet. If I'd known how useless they were going to be, I would have paid some school children to shovel the way clear. Hopefully no one falls and breaks their neck. Francis took a slug of his beer, his Adam's apple bobbing. His dark brown hair was getting long; the ends brushed his collar when he tipped his head back. What a way to ruin the fucking party.

Thank you for that, your care and concern for your guests is truly appalling. Nicholas shook his head, then couldn't help snorting a laugh. Oh, you bastard, why don't you give me a hug?

A hug? How 'bout a kiss? Get your ass up here and give your big brother a smooch!

It felt perfectly natural for Nicholas to hurry up the stairs and into Francis' tight embrace, letting his head be tucked under Francis' chin as those long arms wrapped around him. There was the heavy scent of hot alcohol breath against his neck and face, then there was a wet, smacking kiss against his cheek.

Nicholas laughed and hugged his brother hard, barely avoiding knocking the beer out of Francis' careless hand. I've missed you.

I missed you too. Francis smelled of beer and cigarettes and the leather jacket he favored in all weather, and beneath it all was Francis himself, warm and drunk and alive. I've been waiting for you to show your face all day.

"Well, go me for doing something nice for you--bringing me to your party. Nicholas stepped back from his brother and reached out to grab Christian's arm and pull him forward. And you know Christian, of course."

Of course. Francis rolled his eyes, but flashed Christian a smile that almost looked real. Hey Christian, how you doin'?

I'm fine, Christian said and shook Francis' hand.

Nicholas smiled proudly. They'd never really gotten along, so Christian and Francis acting civil to each other could only be counted as a win.

The last time they'd seen each other things had gotten ugly. Francis decided to make things physical, which was a mistake considering Christian was 6'4" of hardened muscle and the kind of attitude that refused to take any shit. There was still a slight bump where Francis' nose hadn't healed correctly.

Well, come on you two. It's fucking cold as fuck out here. Francis pushed the door all the way open and beckoned them inside. Let me get you guys something to drink.

Nicholas nudged the door closed and kicked his boots off, lining them up with the rest against the wall. He was careful not to step on any stray wet spots with his socked feet.

The music was loud and there might have been too many people milling around, but he couldn't think of anywhere else he wanted to be.

He hadn't seen Francis since Christmas and their visits were sporadic at best for the rest of the year. They kept in touch through email and the occasional web chat, but seeing him in person had been worth the three hour flight and all the snow. He felt no shame in admitting that he was Francis' biggest fan.

He'd always looked up to Francis. The six years difference in their ages meant Francis had moved out of the family manor before Nicholas was even a teenager. And Francis had taken advantage of his role as cool older brother to keep the hero-worship alive. It was one of the few things Christian openly teased him about, and Nicholas didn't even care because Francis was larger than life.

With his tattoos and the way he dressed, Francis looked like he should have been a punk rocker, but he'd built up his reputation as The Crooner. From the time they were kids he'd said he wanted to be the next Harry Connick Jr. Instead he'd built up his legend as the Frankie Beauregard.

Nicholas had all of his brother's CDs and the limited edition vinyl records. He had posters and copies of every magazine Frankie had ever been featured in. He probably had the world's best Frankie Beauregard collection and he wasn't even ashamed because Francis was really really good. He had a truly spectacular voice and he loved what he did, which showed itself fabulously.

Nicholas looked at his brother across the room. Francis had three beers balanced in his hands and had been on his way back from the kitchen. He'd stopped to talk to a woman in a green sweater and he mouthed something that made her toss her head and laugh.

Francis had always been the funny one, Nicholas the charming.

Are you nerding out over your brother again? Christian's warm voice breathed in his ear and Nicholas turned to grin at him.

Maybe I kinda was, he said. It's just that he's so amazing that I can't believe he's really my brother. That whole age-difference thing means we grew up completely different. Look at him... We look nothing alike. How can I compare to him?

You don't have to, Christian said, and there was something serious in his gaze. I don't know where you got the idea that you have to compare yourself to anyone. You're fine just the way you are.

Nicholas shook his head. I know that in my head, it's the rest of me that's confused. It's one of my Crazy Things.

Fine. Then I'll keep an eye on it for you, Christian said. He was fully prepared to handle every bit of Nicholas' crazy and kept great long lists of each trigger and response. It made him feel better to handle the things Nicholas could not.

You go ahead and do that. Nicholas tried real hard to keep the pout out of his tone. A few shots of good vodka and the emotional punch to the gut of seeing Francis, and he turned back into a needy kid again. He wanted to reach out and hug Christian to show he was cool with being nannied, but he crossed his arms instead. "I don't know why I had to be the dreamboat blond. Francis would have appreciated it more."

Christian gave him a one side of the mouth smile, just a quick quirk up. His eyes laughed though.

Here you guys go! Francis called loudly, pushing through the room toward them. Anyone that didn't get out of his way fast enough was gently bumped aside.

Nicholas reached out and grabbed one of the beers, the neck sweating under his palm. Thanks.

So, what all are you guys doing here? Francis handed Christian his beer. Some kind of incredibly important DeLongeria Enterprises thing? Are you here to change the world for us little people?

Nicholas squinted at his brother in annoyance, but Christian just groaned. Really, you're coming from that angle? I think you're losing your touch, Christian said.

Francis mock-frowned. You were a lot easier to deal with when you were a kid. Your face would go all red and you'd start flexing your jaw. When did you get so together?

When I started handling millions of dollars, Christian said. It's also why I gave up gambling and smoking--too expensive for a man in my position.

Nicholas rolled his eyes and took a drink of his beer. Christian had never been interested in gambling; he only went to casinos to keep Nicholas from blowing too much money or having sex with a serial killer.

Well la-dee-da, Francis waved his fingers, I am so impressed. Now that that's out of the way, it's good to see you both.

Like we'd turn down a party, Nicholas scoffed. He reached out and grabbed Christian's hand, twining their fingers together, and tugged him closer to Francis. Why don't you introduce us to some of your guests? I want to see some of your life.

Francis blinked, then shrugged. Come on, I'll intro you.

Nicholas walked next to Francis but had his arm bent back to stay connected to the trailing Christian. Their hands were clasped tight, neither one willing to let go.

* * *

-DAVID-

He was half-dancing with some girls and he ignored the voice in his head telling him he'd maybe drunk too much. He was at that floaty stage of inebriation, the one dangerously close to dizziness and nausea without crossing over. The last thing he wanted to do was throw up on someone.

David took one last swallow of his Spiked Punch before handing the bottle to a guy in a stupid zebra striped vest. Here dude, I'm done for a while.

The guy blinked, then took the drink and kept walking through the crowd.

There was a bit of a wake behind the guy and the crowd shifted and it was like clouds breaking, revealing a glimpse of sun. Gold-tipped blond hair caught his attention first, then smooth fair skin and sculpted cupid bow lips and a straight curve of a nose.

The man was breathtaking and in David's drunken state the sight of him was burned across David's brain. The swirl of lights and press and bend of bodies, and there was the man in