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A Paler Shade of Green	By : Rina76 Category: Angel the Series > Slash - Male/Male Views: 3526 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Angel fandom or any of the characters from the show. I am not making money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 9
- 10
- 11
Waiting for any news about Kylar, it seems like forever to everyone anxious about him but probably only an hour or two passes. The doctor keeps working on the sick boy, trying out every scrap of medical knowledge in his large demon brain.
Eventually, thanks to his efforts or simply due to Kylar’s own innate healing system, the teenager’s condition improves - his heartbeat and breathing returning to a normal, non-threatening level. The painful spasms cease and his muscles relax. His skin turns warm again and the insidious-looking dark green veins disappear from his throat, leaving two small, harmless-looking puncture marks that are already beginning to heal. When the doctor declares Kylar to be stable and in a drug-induced sleep, Fred and Cordelia shoo all the male folk out of the bathroom so they can properly bathe the eighteen year old youth and change his blood-stained clothes, the two young women intending to lift his light frame into bed so he can rest and recover.
It’s hard for Lorne to let go of Kylar’s hand but he finally has to do it, sensing that the kid doesn’t need him any longer and just needs a good, long nap to remove the debilitating effects of the vamp-venom that invaded his body. Kylar looks so small and frail lying there all wet in the bathtub with his eyes closed like a half-drowned kitten but Lorne knows that the teen is in capable, caring hands and that Fred and Cordelia will call if anything happens. Giving the bathroom door one last apprehensive look, Lorne leaves and goes out into the corridor, where Connor is. The auburn-haired slayer is still sitting on the floor in the same position, hugging his legs and resting his chin on his knees, staring off into the distance.
Without looking up, Connor asks, “How is he?”
“Sleeping,” Lorne answers tiredly, rubbing the back of his neck. “The doctor says the infection or poison – whatever it was - has been neutralised and he should be fine.”
“That’s great,” is Connor’s mumbled answer, although inside he breathes a massive sigh of relief.
“Yeah.” The older demon sighs too. “He really had us worried there for a while.”
Even through the walls, Lorne can empathically detect Kylar’s aura growing stronger. Pyleans are an extremely resilient race which is how Kylar survived being the farmer’s punching bag and whipping boy for two years. That sort of torture would have caused the death of a human child but Kylar’s body healed itself then and is already healing now.
“I have to apologise for freaking out back there and trying to choke you.” Lorne sounds humble and embarrassed, now that the panic is all over. “I just didn’t know what was going on.”
In an apathetic monotone, Connor replies dully, “Don’t worry about it.”
Lorne can tell that the kid has been crying.
“Connor, I don’t blame you,” he says softly. “I know you care about Kylar and would never deliberately put him in danger.”
“But I did.” Connor sounds angry at himself. “I should have known better than to take him hunting. He wasn’t ready. He was too emotional to think straight.”
“That’s my fault,” Lorne admits. “I’m the one who upset him.”
“Because you fucked the twins when you were supposed to be with him?” Connor cruelly retorts, switching the responsibility back to the older Pylean, just to have someone else to blame for this disaster. “He waited for you and you ignored him. How could you do that, Lorne?”
The Empath swallows sickly. “Kylar told you.”
“Yeah, he did. A couple of guys in tight leather offered you sex in your dressing room and you took it, just like the cheap whore you are.” The supernatural slayer grits his jaw angrily. “I hope it was fucking worth it.”
Thinking that it really, really wasn’t, Lorne slides down the wall next to Connor, his legs weak and his guts all twisted up into painful knots of despair.
“What have I done?” he groans, face-palming. “Because of that one stupid night, Kylar will never forgive me and he’ll never trust me again. Oh God, I’m the worst guardian ever! He deserves so much better than me…”
Seeing how awfully guilt-stricken Lorne is, Connor starts to regret his harsh words, particularly when they’ve made a truce and are supposed to be getting along.
“Sorry. Didn’t mean what I said.”
Lorne shakes his head miserably. “No, you’re right. I’m disgusting and pathetic.”
“Not completely.” Angel’s normally strong-willed son picks at a hole in the knee of his jeans. “I met them. I get it.”
Lorne’s eyes slide sideways towards the other boy. “You met the twins?”
“Yeah. Tonight. Don’t worry; I didn’t kill them, even though I felt like it.” Talking about the raven-haired brothers and their almost irresistible dark allure, Connor confesses, “I can see why you’d do what you did.”
Glad that someone else feels their mystical magnetism too, Lorne nevertheless objects, “But I shouldn’t have. I should have gotten the hell away from them.”
“Probably.” With reluctance, the teenager concedes, “But it’s not really my place to say anyway. It’s your life. You can do what you want.”
When it all boils down, the simple fact of the matter is: Lorne and Kylar aren’t even together. They’re not married and they’re not in an exclusive relationship so technically, Lorne can sleep with anyone he chooses. Now, if it were Connor, he would have chosen Kylar over a couple of slutty demon brothers any day. Kylar is something really special. But maybe that’s the problem, the auburn-haired hunter contemplates, thinking of Kylar’s beautiful tear-streaked face with a strange pang in his heart.
Maybe Lorne thinks Kylar is TOO special to be treated that way and that’s why he won’t take Kylar to bed, despite his obvious attraction to the green-skinned teen. Maybe he is afraid of hurting the former slave-child or ruining the pure innocence of his nature and so Lorne chose to slake his adult sexual desire on more experienced partners who wouldn’t be affected. As much as it pains him to admit it, Connor can see the whole scenario from Lorne’s point of view too and that’s why he can’t hate the older Pylean too much for what he’s done. Lorne was probably only trying to protect Kylar.
Just like Connor tried to tonight, except they both failed and Kylar got hurt.
“He killed it. The vampire, I mean.”
“Who?”
“Kylar. I was trying to tell you that but you were too busy yelling at me,” Connor mutters. “There were three of them. Females. I killed two and he got the other one. The one that bit him.”
Lorne blinks, reeling with the unexpected and shocking news. He just assumed Connor took care of the vampire. Not gentle, innocent Kylar who couldn’t squash an ant even if it was stinging him. Deep down, despite all the training, he wasn’t sure Kylar could do it, could kill again. It seems Lorne was wrong.
“After he did that, he kinda had a meltdown,” Connor furthers, recalling the unbalanced range of Kylar’s emotions. “He cried over you, Lorne. Just thought you should know.”
Well, that makes Lorne feel even shittier.
“Going out,” the boy-slayer announces, pushing up off the floor and stretching his aching muscles. “If Kylar wakes up, tell him…”
Connor’s gaze goes hard, his voice lifeless and flat. “Tell him that he doesn’t have to be friends with me anymore. If he keeps hanging around me, he’ll probably just end up dead.”
After that depressing statement, the moody teenager runs downstairs and slams the lobby door.
What’s ironic is that if it wasn’t for Connor, Kylar probably wouldn’t have survived this night at all. Connor brought him back home and because of that Kylar was able to get the medical help he needed. If the demon teen had gone out hunting by himself and fought three vampires on his own…who knows what would have been the gruesome outcome? He could potentially survive blood loss or even having all his limbs ripped off, as his and Lorne’s species can rejoin severed parts back together, but if the vamps had mutilated his body or scattered the pieces Kylar would not have been saved.
Feeling oddly numb, Lorne sits there in the carpeted hallway for a while. Sure, he can blame himself for what happened, he can blame Connor or the damn hell-bitch that sunk her blood-thirsty fangs into Kylar’s throat but it doesn’t matter right now.
Kylar is alive. He’s alive and he’ll be okay and that’s the most important thing. Realising how dangerously close he came to losing the boy he loves more than life itself, Lorne curses, dropping his horned head into his hands and beginning to sob.
Angel appears to sit with him and puts his arm around Lorne’s shaking shoulders, the sympathetic vampire not saying anything, just supporting Lorne and letting him cry it all out.
………
From outside the third-floor hotel window, two winged creatures have been hovering in mid-air, watching the life-or-death drama with solemnly glittering gazes, shroud-like raven hair floating in the breeze.
“Do you think the delicate spawn will be all right, brother?”
“I hope so. Otherwise we’ll have one pissed hunter after our heads.”
“But we didn’t mean for any of this to happen.” Wings slumping, the narrow-hipped hermaphrodite sighs, not used to experiencing guilt over anything they’ve done. “Being evil is supposed to be fun. This was not fun at all.”
“Do not fret, my love.” The second male cups his sibling’s cheek, tenderly kissing three identical ink-blot birthmarks on a rumpled forehead. “Kylar will be well taken care of. There’s nothing more we can do.”
“Lorne will hate us.”
“Lorne is incapable of hating anybody. He has a compassionate heart and a soul made of kindness. In time, he will forgive us for what we did.”
“I wish I could believe you, brother.”
Sensing that his normally-tough twin needs a little comfort, the bigger Hokio links their fingers together. “There is no point hanging around here feeling sorry for ourselves. Let’s just go home and make ourselves feel better, hmm?”
A longing look is exchanged. “Yes, let’s do that.”
And then, with great shadowy sweeps of their huge membranous wings, the Ho’kio demons depart the side of the Hyperion Hotel, rising hand-in-hand into the city sky and disappearing.
………
Also in need of comforting, Connor leaps off the rooftop of the moving city bus, letting his free ride turn a corner while he runs down a suburban street, scales a seven foot high fence with sharp spikes on the top and drops down into somebody’s back yard. Seeing that the light is on, he goes up to the bedroom window, smacking his flat palm against it a few times, trying not to break the glass in his agitation. The curtains part and a curious face peers out before the window is quickly opened.
“Hey! What an unexpected surprise. Come on in, sugar.” A tall, curly-haired male with tanned skin helps the younger boy climb inside, seeming undaunted that Connor didn’t use the front door like normal people would. Once inside, Connor stands there with a blank expression, arms hanging limply by his sides, avoiding eye contact and staring at the floor. Noticing that the young hunter is desperately trying to hold himself together, the older man frowns and takes him by the shoulders.
“What’s wrong, gingerbread? Did something happen?”
At the caring tone, Connor starts shaking. His tear-filled blue eyes lift up to concerned green ones.
“It’s Kylar. He…he nearly died,” Connor chokes out in a trembling voice, trying to explain. “We were hunting and he nearly got killed and it would have been all my fault.”
Then his face crumples like tissue paper and Connor jerkily steps forward into the other man’s embrace, clinging to him and sobbing against his chest.
“Oh, my poor darling,” the first guy whispers in dismay, holding Connor’s thin figure close and laying kisses into his coppery hair. “You let it all out, honey. You give it all to me. Seb’s gonna take care of you, all right?”
The two boyfriends stand there hugging tightly, one crying helplessly, the other soothing and supportive. For once, Connor doesn’t have to be the strong one.
Somehow, with Sebastian’s loving arms around him, he knows that everything will be okay.
………
While Kylar is resting in his own bed, everyone else gathers in Lorne’s room, discussing the night’s dramatic happenings. They can’t go back to sleep now, not after all the excitement and uncertainty.
“So, is the little green dude gonna be all right?”
Wesley nods at Gunn. “It appears so. The doctor believes Kylar was suffering from a rare form of blood toxicity but it appears to have been brought under control and eliminated.”
“Are you sure Kylar can’t turn into a vampire?” Fred asks concernedly in her Texan drawl. “Because that would be simply awful, seeing a cute little thing like that turn into something horrible and nasty like…like Spike!”
“No, it’s impossible,” Angel firmly states. “Vampires are essentially demons that have taken over and inhabited human bodies. Since Kylar is already a demon, there’s no way he can be changed. I’ve been around for two hundred years and I’ve never seen a demon turn into one.”
Lorne is slumped on his couch, lethargically puffing on a cigarette and simultaneously drinking gin and tonic, without the tonic. He usually goes outside to smoke but he’s too emotionally drained to move and if people are offended by it, they can damn well leave his bedroom. He didn’t invite them; they just gathered there, since his room is the closest to Kylar’s. They’re all sitting on his bed, Lorne only half listening to the conversation going on around him.
“It’s highly unusual - almost unheard of, in fact - for a vampire to feed off another demon,” Wesley Windham-Price explains in his British accent. “This is an extraordinary case, indeed.”
“Demon blood is like poison to us,” Angel explains. “It makes us severely ill.”
“Then why did one try to take a chunk outta Kylar?” Gunn questions, confused.
“Newbies, probably. Young vampires are stupid, especially if they have no sire to guide them or teach them.” Connor’s father shrugs his shoulder. “They probably just didn’t know.”
“Or maybe Kylar’s appearance was just too enticing,” Wesley guesses.
“What are you saying?” Charles Gunn creases his dark brow. “You mean, our boy was just too pretty for the vampire to resist?”
“Possibly,” the English historian muses, thinking of Kylar’s decidedly feminine facial features. “Vampires are attracted to beautiful things. Perhaps she thought Kylar would taste as good as he looks.”
They all glance to Lorne for his reaction but he’s just sightlessly staring into his drink, still in shock over the evening’s unexpected events.
“Connor shouldn’t have taken that poor child out with him,” Fred says unhappily. “He shouldn’t have made Kylar go hunting.”
“But isn’t that why we’ve been training him? So he CAN hunt?”
“Gunn’s right,” Wes seconds with a serious expression on his stubbled face. “I’m sorry Kylar got bitten but at least he knows what it’s really like out there and can be better prepared for future attacks. He might be small but I believe he’s sufficiently capable of defending himself, even if he didn’t do that tonight.”
“He did defend himself,” Cordelia quietly joins in, the brunette female having been silent all this time, weary after using her white-light powers to help the demon teen. “When I was trying to glow all the toxins out of him, I saw what happened. It was all there in Kylar’s head.”
Everyone else stares interestedly at her, wanting to hear what really went down earlier. Tucking her bobbed brown hair behind one ear, Cordelia continues.
“Connor told him he didn’t have to hunt but Kylar insisted on going. He wanted to prove himself. As he was facing the vampire with the stake in his hand, he knew what to do but when the moment came, he couldn’t move. He couldn’t kill her.”
“Why not?” Wesley asks, tilting his head curiously.
“He was scared. He didn’t want to become a murderer again.”
“Aw, poor baby,” Fred sympathises, making a sorrowful face at how traumatised Kylar must have felt.
“There’s a difference between murder and self-defence,” Angel points out. “Trust me, I know. When I was Angelus - when I was evil - I killed many innocent people. Their deaths haunt me to this day. They did nothing wrong; I just killed them for pleasure. But Kylar acted out of self-defence when he killed his master. It was the only way he could be free.”
“And from what I’ve heard, the fucker deserved it, no question,” Gunn stalwartly replies, lifting his chin. “Killing a vamp isn’t murder either. They have no souls.”
“Except for Angel but he’s special.” Fred smiles and touches the immortal man’s arm in a fond fashion. Angel smiles back, but sadly, still feeling bad for everything he’s done in his two centuries of existence.
“The only good vamp is a dead vamp,” the black male of the group declares, making a staking motion with his fist. “Kill ‘em before they kill you. That’s my motto.”
“You said Kylar defended himself,” Wes interrupts, looking to Cordy. “Was that after he was bitten?”
Nodding, Cordelia confirms, “When the vampire was puking up his poison blood, Kylar got his wits back and did what you guys taught him to do. He staked the bitch and watched her turn into dust.”
“Way to go, Ky! Respect,” Gunn exclaims in admiration, even though the youth is sleeping in another room and can’t hear him. He looks around at the rest of the gang with a white-toothed grin of eagerness. “We so gotta give that kid a celebration ceremony or somethin’ when he wakes up, yo.”
“You mean a party?” Fred blurts, her eyes lighting up at the thought of cake and balloons.
“Hells yeah! Haven’t had one of those in ages. It’s okay ain’t it, Angel?” Gunn queries.
“Sure.” The owner of the hotel nods his consent. “Just don’t advertise it on Myspace. I don’t want five hundred teenagers turning up and trashing the place.”
Gunn’s eyebrows rise, making his bald scalp wrinkle. “You actually know what Myspace is?”
“Hey, I’m not THAT ancient!”
“I hope we’re not going to play Spin the Bottle at this party,” Wesley says apprehensively. “We all remember how terribly that went last time…Angel nearly ate us all and I turned back into a clumsy nerd!”
Giggling, Fred suggests, “Maybe we can play Pin the Fangs on the Vampire, instead of Pin the Tail on the Donkey. You know, make it a themed party? Oh, and we could have blood-coloured punch!”
“Only if it has vodka in it,” Gunn declares.
“But Kylar’s only eighteen!”
“So? Kid can’t get drunk anyway.”
“While you’re all busy making party plans, I’m gonna go check on him,” Cordelia announces, getting up to make sure the teen demon is still okay in the other room. He’s on the bed knocked out on prescription-strength painkillers, his pet bat nestled in his hair, staying close to Kylar while he sleeps. The small grey marsupial had been quivering in the curtains earlier, terrified that her dearly-loved master was dying. But he’s all right now. Cordy pulls up a chair and keeps watch over him, just in case.
As everybody else chatters excitedly about Kylar becoming a man and making his first kill (and the best drinking games to celebrate that with), Lorne’s eyelids get heavy, almost as though Kylar’s deep, drugged slumber is affecting him too. He soon falls asleep on the couch. Taking his empty glass and smouldering cigarette butt away, Fred covers him with a blanket, lightly kissing the exhausted Empath on the forehead. They usually make fun of Lorne for his slothful sleeping habits and late rising patterns but tomorrow he can sleep in as long as he likes. And so can Kylar. They deserve it.
It’s been one hell of a night for both of them.
………
In the morning, Wesley comes into Lorne’s room, gently shaking the older demon by the shoulder to rouse him. Lorne cracks his bleary red eyes open, feeling strangely hung-over.
“Good morning, Lorne!” Wes says in a voice far too chipper for this time of the day. “How are you feeling?”
“Like shit on a sidewalk,” Lorne mumbles, groggily sitting up on the couch and scratching at his messed-up hair, squinting against the brightness as Wesley goes about cheerily opening the velvet drapes covering the windows. “How’s Kylar?”
“He’s awake and he seems perfectly normal,” the other man tells him with a reassuring smile. “We tested him with sunlight, a cross and with holy water. He’s shown no signs of developing vampirism, or any other ill effects from the bite.”
“Thank God,” Lorne sighs with relief, sagging back against the lounge.
“He’s been asking about you.”
Lorne looks up. “He has?”
“Yes. You can go visit him,” Wesley offers. “He’s just finishing breakfast in bed.”
Nodding in gratitude, the Pylean replies, “I will. Thanks for the wake-up call.”
“You’re welcome.” Smiling again, the Englishman leaves. Hopping into the shower to freshen himself up, Lorne is overwhelmingly relieved to have heard the good news. If Kylar’s up and eating then he really IS okay and back to normal. Although deep inside, Lorne knows he’d still love the boy even if Kylar did grow fangs and develop a taste for human blood. After all, there’s already one vampire in the hotel – what’s another?
Lorne would’ve still taken care of him and been Kylar’s guardian and protector, just during the daytime, so nobody could stake him or open the curtains accidentally. He would have darkened Kylar’s room with block-out drapes and bought him a special light-proof enclosed bed to sleep in. He would have gotten new black vampy clothes for the boy and let him dye his hair or pierce his face anywhere he wanted. Lorne would have even mixed up blood-cocktails for Kylar – anything to keep the kid happy, regardless of what kind of creature he was. It would have just been like having Kylar turn Goth.
But he has not changed. Lorne’s senses tell him that he’s still the same sweet-natured, kind-hearted young man he’s always been. Kylar is sitting up on the bed, his pet bat on his shoulder looking anxious and sniffing his cheek concernedly, the teen’s slim fingers stroking her grey fur in reassurance. When she sees Lorne entering the room Fredelia immediately goes on the defence, trying to protect her owner by squeaking loudly and flying threateningly at the intruder, attempting to drive him away.
Lorne ducks, swearing in alarm at the surprise attack.
“Fredelia, enough,” Kylar softly commands, the small bat resentfully obeying and flapping over to hang upside-down in the curtains and sulk.
“Do not mind her,” the boy says apologetically. “She is simply worried about me.”
“She’s not the only one,” Lorne answers, straightening up and focusing on the younger demon. “How are you feeling, my special little kiwi-fruit?”
“Fine.” Kylar shyly meets Lorne’s gaze. “Thank you for enquiring.”
“Are you sure? I mean, it’s not every day you get attacked by a savage, blood-sucking night-crawler.” Lorne perches anxiously on the edge of the bed. “I’m so sorry that happened to you, honey-cake. It’s all my fault.”
“No, Lorne! You mustn’t blame yourself,” Kylar immediately protests. “I take sole responsibility for my own actions. I got bitten because I hesitated. ‘A true warrior never hesitates.’ That’s what Angel told me during training and I should have listened more closely to his advice.”
“Are you really sure you’re all right?” Lorne asks again, wondering how much of last night Kylar remembers, if anything at all. “Does your neck hurt?”
“It doesn’t. Please do not concern yourself - the wound is just a small one. I have survived far worse injuries, trust me.”
Now that the side-effects of being bitten have worn off, Kylar looks noticeably better, his colour back to normal - a healthy green instead of ashy grey. His blood-stained clothes have been replaced with clean pyjamas and his face, neck and sticky hair have been washed and dried, thanks to Cordelia and Fred’s diligent sponging and towelling off. He doesn’t even appear injured, except for the band-aid on his neck. He is one very, very lucky kid. It’s fortunate that the vampire was only tasting him. If she’d actually been trying to kill Kylar, she would have torn his whole throat out but all he’s left with from the attack are two puncture wounds that barely need covering. Lorne hates the fact that Kylar got hurt at all but he also knows the bite won’t take long to be fully repaired.
However, the nasty incident at Caritas with those trouble-making Ho’kio brothers could leave lasting lesions on the kid’s sensitive psyche if Lorne doesn’t straighten out that whole dreadful mess and make amends for what he did.
“Sweetie, we need to talk,” Lorne hesitantly ventures. “Why did you really go out hunting last night? Was it because you wanted to prove yourself? Or was it because you were angry with me?”
The boy drops his eyes. That’s all the answer Lorne needs.
“Kylar, about what those demons said back at the club…”
“You were with them that other night. I know.” Before Lorne can even begin to explain, Kylar quietly adds, “You do not have to tell me anything. Your personal life is private and is not my concern.”
If that’s true then why does Kylar look so wounded and betrayed? He’s trying not to show it on the outside but Lorne’s empathic senses can keenly feel the boy’s pain and sadness.
“You were waiting for me and I let you down. Didn’t I?”
Kylar doesn’t answer at first, just chews on his lip-piercing and keeps his gaze on the floor.
“Yes,” he eventually whispers. “You did.”
Those three little words are like arrows straight to Lorne’s chest. They hurt, but not as much as Kylar is hurting. Nowhere near it. He’d like to say he was incredibly tired and that’s why he let the twins have their way with him but that’s not good enough. Tired or not, Lorne still slept with the twins of his own free will and it was he who disappointed Kylar and broke the boy’s fragile trust. Any explanations he tries to give will only sound like excuses and Kylar deserves better than that. Lorne was the one who fucked up and he needs to take ownership of his mistake.
“I did a very bad thing,” he admits honestly to the boy. “I hurt you and I lied to you and I’m sorry.”
After a pause, Kylar nods wordlessly, acknowledging Lorne’s apology but not quite accepting it yet.
“Sugar-drop, you know how much I care for you,” Lorne says pleadingly. “Don’t you?”
Another small nod.
“Well, I do. I care about you more than anything on this Earth,” the older Pylean swears, trying to make Kylar see how much he means it. “You’re the most important thing to me in my life, Kylarkmar. Not my club. Or anybody in it. Not money, or fame or fortune. Just you.”
Lorne moves closer, an earnest expression on his face. “I know I’ve failed in my care-giving duties but if you give me another chance, I’ll spend it earning your trust back and proving that I’m worthy enough to be your guardian. Please give me another chance, Kylar. Please?”
Lifting his eyes, Kylar finally looks at him.
“Those twins were evil, weren’t they?”
“Yeah. Spawns of hell, all right,” Lorne mutters in agreement. “Ho’kio demons are sly and seductive. It’s their nature. I knew that and I should have known better than to fall for their tricks.”
“But they’re very beautiful,” Kylar mentions, understanding how Lorne could be seduced by them.
“Not as beautiful as you, butterfly. Not in a billion dimensions,” the taller man promises, slipping his arm around the mulberry-haired boy. “They are black and white. You are like a glorious, gorgeous rainbow and you light up my whole world.”
A sad little smile ghosts across Kylar’s mouth. The gold ring that decorates his lower lip gleams like a glimmer of hope. Sensing that he is almost forgiven, Lorne pulls the teen closer, planting a regretful kiss on his temple, near one of his dainty horns.
“I’m so, so sorry for hurting you, Kylar. I won’t ever do anything like that again,” he vows with pained hoarseness. “You mean everything to me and I adore you too much to risk losing you.”
Though he knows Lorne speaks the truth, Kylar remains silent, his throat too choked up to utter an acceptance.
There is a minute of complete silence.
Not knowing what else to say, Lorne starts singing. After all, he owes Kylar a song.
“Sometimes I wonder if I'd ever make it through…Through this world without having you - I just wouldn't have a clue,” he melodiously begins, soft and hesitant at first and then gradually gaining strength and conviction. “‘Cause sometimes it seems like this world's closing in on me, and there's no way of breaking free…And then I see you reach for me…”
Bad English – one of Lorne’s favourite 80s rock bands. This song was one mighty power-ballad back in the day, and still is in Lorne’s opinion. Even without the piano and backing track, it perfectly sums up the way he feels about Kylar being in his life.

“Baby, there's nothing in this world that could ever do what the touch of your hand can do. It's like nothing that I ever knew. And when the rain is falling I don't feel it,

‘cause you're here with me now,” he sings with emotive passion, resting his cheek on top of Kylar’s head and lovingly squeezing the boy as he continues to sing, knowing every single word by heart.
“It's all I'll ever need. All I'll EVER need…”

At the depth of tenderness and caring in those lyrics, Kylar lets all the pain go, like dried leaves in the autumn wind. He leans into his handsome guardian, soaking up the superb sound of Lorne’s voice as well as the closeness and fond feelings that Lorne is giving him, the older male’s arms warm and safe. When Lorne holds him like this, and sings such wonderful words, Kylar isn’t afraid of anything. Especially not some pale-skinned succubi with gleaming black eyes and tongues like hissing serpents. Lorne may have rutted with them once but Kylar believes the other Pylean when he says it won’t happen a second time. Lorne’s regret is too excruciatingly sincere. But he is most certainly repairing the damage with this heart-warming love-sonnet.
“When I see you smile, I see a ray of light…Oh, I see it shining right through the rain. When I see you smile…I can face the world. Oh, you know I can do anything.”
At last, Lorne finishes up softly. “Baby, when I see you smile at me…”
Kylar is definitely smiling once the song is over. Though a few teardrops of overpowering emotion have escaped and dripped down his cheeks unheeded, he has been smiling for the greater part of it. No matter what else is happening, Lorne’s singing makes all seem right with the world. It strengthens Kylar and gives him hope, restoring his confidence and optimism, the crimson-eyed boy absolutely certain that his life with Lorne will be a bright, happy one and that everything will work out exactly the way it’s supposed to. He believes that the best things come to those who are patient and place their trust in the Powers That Be because the Powers are wise and have a plan for everybody. For each bad thing that has happened to Kylar, he will be rewarded one hundredfold and if he keeps his heart pure and full of love, all the happiness he’s ever wanted will finally be his. He believed that back on Pylea and he still believes it now. His faith in that future is too strong to shatter, as is his faith in Lorne. He proves this by embracing the elder male around the middle, Kylar hugging Lorne like he never wants to let go.
“Krevlornswath?” Kylar whispers some time later.
“Yeah, darlin’?”
“Did they hurt you?”
“Who?”
“The twins. When you were with them, did they hurt you in some way? Is that why you were hostile towards them last night?”
Lorne can’t believe it. After everything he’s put Kylar though, the caring kid is actually concerned about what might have been done to HIM.
“Oh no, honey. Not at all. They - I mean, we…We had…” After a long uncomfortable pause, Lorne clears his throat and asks awkwardly, “You do know what sex is, right?”
In his head Lorne desperately prays that the kid knows already so he doesn’t have to try and explain it. He’d rather have his arms and legs cut off again and be thrown on a crawling lice-pile than suffer through the excruciating humiliation of explaining where a man puts his penis and how babies are made.
Thankfully, Kylar answers him with frankness. “I am well aware of it, yes. I saw many instances of mating back on Pylea, both animal and demon.”
Lorne’s relief is immense. “Well, that’s all that happened. I was tired and stressed and I needed…Ah, it doesn’t matter why.” He waves away his pitiful reasons. “They didn’t harm me in any way, so don’t you worry your pretty little head about it.”
Kylar gazes at him in slight confusion. “Then why did you threaten to cut their tongues out?”
“I was just annoyed at them for telling you what went on. It should have been me who told you. No wonder you were so angry you had to go find a vampire to kill.”
Lorne winces at how much sheer emotion it must have taken to drive quiet, mild-mannered Kylar into doing such an extreme thing.
“You probably really wanted to kill ME, huh?”
“I do not care about the vampire as it had no soul,” Kylar states, “but I don’t wish to be angry at you ever again, Lorne. I did not like feeling that way.”
“It’s okay - I totally deserved it.” The thirty-three year old male glumly looks at the teenager beside him. “Are you still mad?”
Kylar shakes his head, burrowing further into the calming warmth of Lorne’s embrace. “Not anymore.”
Lorne’s voice brightens. “So, you forgive me?”
“Of course I do.” A light sigh drifts though Kylar’s wine-coloured lips as he lays a cheek against his care-giver’s comforting chest. “After hearing you sing, I would forgive you for anything.”
Immeasurably grateful to hear that, Lorne rests his chin on top of the boy’s crown, tightening their hug. “Thank you, sweetheart. You don’t know how much that means to me.”
They sit there on the bed for a long time, neither of them talking, just holding each other and reconnecting, letting their auras mingle in a cloud of swirling warmth. Both of their minds are touching, carefully and tentatively, the first time Lorne has let down his protective shield enough for Kylar to reach inside it. Rather than see his deep, dark, shameful secrets, the boy can only see how much Lorne cares for him and has grown to depend on him and need him, just as Kylar needs Lorne. He sees how scared Lorne was when he saw Kylar carried into the hotel, covered in blood and barely conscious. Lorne actually thought Kylar was going to die. He sees how frightened Lorne was of losing him and being left all alone again. The intuitive teenager can see how terribly lonely Lorne was before Kylar arrived on this plane, how isolated the musical male felt at being the only Pylean in the city with nobody else around who truly understood him or his profound, well-hidden unhappiness.
On the outside Lorne has always appeared to be so bright, chirpy and cheery but underneath that he was carrying such a hopeless burden of despair, thinking he would never find anyone that would love him or accept him for who he truly was. Kylar has also felt that way in the past, of being strange and segregated to the rest of the population, and he is so very glad that he and Lorne have now have found each other and that they aren’t alone anymore. They are different to everyone else and didn’t belong on their home dimension. This is where they belong. Here. Together.
In each other’s arms.
Even Fredelia senses what an important moment this is for the two demons and their slowly blossoming relationship, the small winged marsupial clinging to the folds of the bedroom curtain, occasionally peeping out in perplexed, upside-down inquisitiveness. She would like to come out and noisily chase Lorne away but Kylar is silently telling her not to and so the furry bat remains hidden and keeps quiet, allowing her gentle master and his spiky-haired guardian to bond in peace and privacy.
Soon, Kylar starts falling asleep against his side and so Lorne lays him back down on the bed and tucks him in, kissing the recovering youth right between his perfect little horns. Holding Kylar’s hand, Lorne sits on the mattress for a while, watching the eighteen year old as he dozes, Lorne’s heart overflowing with love and his eyes with tears. He’s never loved anyone as much as he loves this brave, beautiful boy and vows to all the Gods and the Powers That Be that he will never, ever upset Kylar or make him cry again.
.........
A/N: If you wanna hear the song Lorne sings to Kylar, here you go: http://youtu.be/oaGt3FJFZPA

Just imagine it in Lorne's amazing voice... *tears up*
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A Paler Shade of Green