London Loves Ch. 05

The anger rose up in him so swift and hot it was nearly choking him, and he wasn't even sure what he was so angry about, but he knew he had to leave. Now! He pulled his wallet out and dropped the money to pay for the meal on the table, standing as he did so.

"I've got to go," he muttered through clenched teeth.

Whatever Clint had been expecting it clearly wasn't that for he jumped to his feet at once and tried to catch Xavier's hand as he put the money down.

"Wait... don't go. You believe me, don't you? I can tell. I can see it on your face, you believe me. Please don't go, I really need to talk to him. It's not just about money."

"Let go of me," Xav warned, shaking him off fiercely. "I don't owe you anything. I don't care who you are."

He got as far as the sidewalk outside the cafe before Clint caught up with him. He didn't try to grab him this time, maybe sensing that it wouldn't be well received but he got in the way at every opportunity.

"Xavier, listen to me. You know there's something weird about him, you've been living in his fucking house. You know that he's not..." He bit down on his lips and shook his head. When Xavier tried to push past him he dodged in front again and held his hands up, barring the way. "He isn't like us, Xavier."

Xavier glared at him, grabbing his shoulders and physically moving him to one side.

"I don't know what you're talking about." He said each word very clearly. He had to concentrate hard now because anxiety was rolling off the kid in waves and Xavier was soaking it up like a sponge. If he didn't get away from him it felt like he was going to have a panic attack right there on the sidewalk.

He started walking again and Clint called after him, his tone gone from pleading to sneering.

"That's fuckin' right. Force me to tell you and then get pissed off at me. I should have fuckin' known you couldn't handle it!"

Xavier stopped, feeling his face flush hot with barely contained anger. Yeah, that was exactly what he'd done too, wasn't it? He wasn't really angry at Clint though, it wasn't his fault. He counted down from five and heaved a sigh, then half-turned back, shaking his head.

"I'm not pissed at you," he said, then paused and sighed again, wiping a hand over his eyes and wondering if he'd lost his mind, but thinking that if he stormed off now he'd probably never get the answers he wanted. "You still want to come have a shower?"

Clint caught back up to him, although now he was wary again. He opened his mouth to say something but Xavier held up his hand. "Don't say anything. Just...give me a few minutes until we get back, then we can talk."

He needed the time, less to cool down than to focus. He hadn't had so many problems with picking up too much on people's emotional crap since Rayne had done... whatever it was he'd done to him at Aldo's. Of course, Rayne hadn't left his side until now either. He needed to get a handle on all this shit that was bombarding him at the moment or he really was going to go crazy.

By the time they got back to the house Xav's hands were shaking as he opened the door with his key, letting Clint follow him inside. He closed the door again and locked it, leaning there for a moment and feeling the physical barrier help shut out the background noise a bit and dampen down his empathy with every bastard on the street. Taking a deep breath and letting it out he beckoning to Clint and waved towards the hall where the bathroom was.

"Go have a shower first, then we'll talk. Don't break anything, and don't steal anything. Got it?"

"I'm skint, not desperate," Clint said airily. "Besides, I've been here before."

And he strode down the corridor to the bathroom and slammed the door. Moments later Xavier heard the water running and off-key singing echoing down the passageway. He just shook his head and moved wearily into the lounge. Xav was not the best at handling kids. He had no patience and although he was not so old that he couldn't relate, he had grown up too fast and too hard to put up with much shit.

He sat down in the centre of the futon and folded his legs into the lotus position. Dominic had been admonishing him for weeks now to meditate and do the exercises he'd shown him, but Xav was sporadic at best. Now he wished he'd done what Dom had told him. Better late than never he supposed.

He listened to the shower, the tiny little pings and ticks of the house, the low hum of traffic outside. He started to shut the little noises out one at a time, relaxing and breathing as Dominic had taught him, until the world went away and he was calmer inside.

Clint was in the bathroom for an indecent length of time. Rayne could soak for an age but the boy had to have been in there for nearly an hour. Xavier resisted the urge to find out what he was up to. There was virtually nothing he could take and no way out except for the small, semi-circular ventilation window in the wall. It was just a matter of waiting him out.

When he finally emerged into the kitchen he was swathed in towels like a Bedouin chieftain. His pale skin had a bit of a rosy blush to it from the hot water but his eyes were still tired.

"Can I stick my stuff through the wash?" he asked, rather less pushily. "I know where everything is. I'll fuck off as soon as it's dry, yeah?"

Xavier waved a resigned hand. "Go ahead."

He listened to the boy puttering with the washer and Clint returned a short while later looking wary, perhaps conscious of the fact that he was alone in the house with a stranger, and wearing nothing but a pair of bath towels. Xav was more relaxed now and he'd had time to think about things. His initial reaction had been based on Rayne letting him stumble into something blindly, again. It wasn't right to take it out on Clint though.

"I'm sorry I got so pissed. It wasn't directed at you," Xav explained as the boy walked back into the lounge.

"I figured." Clint flopped down on the edge of the futon and sank back on it with a little huff of breath. "I'm kind of used to it by now. He doesn't mean to be a fuck-up but I guess he's kind of embarrassed about it. I mean, it's not the kind of thing you tell someone you want to impress into bed, I guess. 'Hey, and this is my kid, I knocked his mum up about sixteen years back and had to pay her family off and guess what, he still comes round here hassling me about it!'"

The boy shoved a hand into the towel around his wet hair and scratched his head restlessly. He added, incuriously; "You're American?"

"Yeah," Xavier answered. "From California."

"Far out," Clint remarked with a little yawn. He turned onto his side and curled up, hugging himself, still bundled in the damp towels. "He's deffo going more for guys than girls now, yeah? Can't make his mind up. Fuck, I'm shattered Xavier. Dunno when I last slept properly. Some fuck's always waking you up when you're sleeping rough. Ball ache! You seem cool though, better than that tall, skinny fuck that's always yapping at me, he loves giving me grief that one."

Xav had no doubt the 'tall, skinny fuck' Clint meant was Matty Greening. He felt a touch of solidarity despite his reservations.

"Don't feel bad, you're not the only one he likes to give shit to. Natural born talent I think!" Xavier said blandly, looking at Clint speculatively now. "So let me get this straight. Rayne's still paying your family for your upkeep, but you'd rather be in the gutter here than with them?" Xav shook his head and muttered, "That's gotta piss him off." Conversely though it made Xavier feel better that Rayne hadn't totally abandoned the kid. He was still paying for him. It wasn't his fault if the kid wouldn't stay where the cash was.

"Rayne can't make them give you the money, you know. If he tried, the court's more likely to just make you go home." He tilted his head slightly. "But you know that, right? So what did you really come after him for?"

"He put money in a trust for me but I can't get at it legally 'til I'm 18," Clint mumbled sleepily. "Record company pays my Grandad maintenance but my gran and gramps moved to fuckin' Devon about 3 years ago, took me with 'em. I don't like it down there though, fuck all ever happens. I miss my mates. Rather be here, even sleeping rough."

He rolled onto his back and tugged the towels closer around him as he turned his head to look at Xavier curiously. "Just lately I feel like I need to be here, I can't explain it's like an itch, I just need to scratch it. I feel better when I'm here, near him. It's been a ball-ache having him away. He's been gone so much lately, y'know. But even when he's being a cunt, it feels better in my head when I know where he is." He hesitated almost shyly then asked; "Xavier, has he ever...? Shit... this is a really fucked up question, but did he ever try and bite you?"

"Why would you ask that?" Xavier said cautiously.

Those large hazel eyes looked back at him unblinkingly.

"You know why," Clint finally said, reading more into his silence than his words.

Xavier debated privately with himself. Odds were pretty good the kid wasn't just asking on a hunch. He'd seen something, or maybe he felt something. If he really was Rayne's son, and Xav already wasn't doubting that, maybe there was some kind of bond there, like he had with Rayne. What would that be like, to feel so oddly connected to someone and not know why? But that was quite a leap to go from feeling some odd connection to thinking his dad was a vampire. It could have been Clint had followed Ray one night and saw him with some feeder...Xav couldn't say for sure and he couldn't exactly ask without giving away anything. If that had happened he guessed that had to have freaked the kid out a bit.

Xavier let out a small sigh. "Clint...you can't talk to anyone about this. They would just think you're nuts anyway, right? So...so let it be. Okay?"

"So he has tried something with you? I'm not imagining it?" Clint was suddenly more wide-awake. He pushed himself up, dislodging the towel wrapped loosely around his damp hair but ignoring it. "There is something very, very weird going on, Xavier. I just wanna know what it is. He doesn't feel like other people. At first I thought it was just because I knew he was my dad, but now I'm not so sure. That skinny one, the one with the gob on him, he feels the same. It's like my skin tries to crawl off my bones when he's around me. And I know I'm not related to him. At least... I 'ope to Christ I'm not!"

Xavier felt like he was being backed into a corner. He didn't know what he should tell Clint. The kid knew something was up, he was describing exactly how Xav felt when there was a vampire around, and Xav also knew how it felt when no one would tell him what was going on... yet, he also had other concerns. Like, the more Clint knew the more bother he could be, and Rayne probably wouldn't thank him for discussing this with his kid since it was obvious he hadn't told him anything. On the other hand, if he said nothing Clint might just get himself in trouble trying to figure things out on his own. He could get seriously hurt if he started asking questions like that to the wrong people.

He didn't owe this kid a damn thing, but he was not so hard hearted that he could just turf him out now and let him wander, and maybe go seeking out some other toothy fucker that gave him that same strange feeling he was picking up off of Rayne and Matty.

Xavier could vividly imagine what a vamp like Elian Iannopolous would do with a tender young boy like Clint poking around, asking to see his fangs.

"Fuck..." Xav hissed under his breath, running an agitated hand through his hair. "You're going to get in trouble with this... you're going to get me in trouble with this!" he grumbled, and then capitulated.

"They're...different, you're not wrong," he began slowly, and then hurriedly added, "but if you go telling anyone else they'll laugh at you or put you in a nut house, so just keep it to yourself, all right?" He looked Clint straight in the eye, leaning a little closer, his eyes very serious now. "And, Clint, if you ever get that feeling around someone else... you know, that little itch inside like you get when one of them is close..." Xavier licked his lips nervously. "Play it cool, like you didn't notice anything, and then get the fuck away from them as fast as you can. You hearin' me? It ain't no fucking game. Ending up dead would be the least of your worries."

Xavier's eyes were haunted enough that Clint knew he wasn't just trying to scare him. Then Xavier suddenly looked away and wrapped his arms around himself like he was cold.

Clint hesitated, caught between reaching out towards him and letting him be. He decided it would probably be best not to tell Xavier that he got a kind of weird feeling around him too, but not in the same way. His dad's blond boyfriend could be a little spiky but he was a nice enough bloke, in so far as Clint could tell. Not many groupies would have bought him breakfast or let him hang out like this, or even told him half of what Xavier had hinted at. That scored him some brownie points in Clint's book.

"Are you okay?" the lad asked at last. "You don't look too good. Can I get you anything?"

Xavier shook his head.

"No, I'm fine," he answered, and looked at Clint thoughtfully. "Listen, I really don't know when Rayne is coming back. It could be as long as I said or sooner. I know I said I'd call him for you but... well, he's got a lot on his mind right now, and probably wouldn't be real receptive to making calls or anything anyway. If I give you some cash to carry you through can you just wait until he gets back?"

"I s'pose," Clint said with a little shrug.

"All right. You can get some sleep if you want to. You look like you could use it," Xavier said, sliding off the end of the futon.

The boy eyed him suspiciously for a moment and Xavier asked; "What?"

"Are you gonna slip me your dick while I'm asleep?" Clint wanted to know.

"What sort of fuckin' question is that?" Xav's eyes widened with disbelief. "And if I was, would I tell you about it first?"

Clint shrugged again. "Guess not."

Xavier shook his head incredulously and went off to the bedroom. After a couple minutes he returned with a light blanket and pillow and dropped them next to Clint, then wandered off again to go play with the laptop until his mood improved.

Xavier checked in on Clint a few times over the next couple of hours but he seemed fine and slept pretty much the whole day away. He finally woke in the evening and Xav took him out to dinner because he was hungry by then too. After that it just didn't seem right to toss him back out, so Xav let him sleep on the futon again. In the morning it seemed even weirder to ask Clint to leave, knowing he was Rayne's kid, and knowing he didn't have anywhere to go. So Xav let him stay, and a hesitant friendship began to develop.

The kid seemed to have endless questions about him, his life, what he did, where he'd lived. It annoyed the shit out of Xav at first, but he soon realised his curiosity was driven at least partly by a desire for attention. He just wanted someone to talk to, and since Xavier didn't have anyone else to hang out with anyway he didn't mind so much, although he did try and edit a lot of what he told him.

Clint seemed happy to get his feet under the table. He persuaded Xavier to touch up his roots for him, then he disappeared for a few hours and returned in the afternoon with a bag of weather-beaten clothes which he also took the liberty of putting through Rayne's washing machine and tumble-dryer. He was not beyond chancing his arm either, and Xav came out of the bathroom later that same evening to find him no longer engrossed in the computer game he had been playing a couple of minutes ago. He tracked the youngster to the bedroom where Clint was investigating the contents of his father's wardrobe.

"He ain't 'alf got some fancy gear, 'as he?" he laughed at Xavier's slightly impatient expression. "You reckon this would suit me?"

He held up a sheer, sleeveless black top with a slashed neck and little silver safety pins hanging from it, preening in front of the mirror inside the wardrobe door.

"No," Xavier said, taking it out of his hands. "Not unless you're on a stage, or working a corner," he added as he put it back on its hanger and returned it to where it belonged.

"You're no fun, you know," Clint told him seriously. Then he grinned and blew Xav a kiss.

In the muted light of the bedroom and with his hair newly dyed, for a moment he looked so like Rayne that it made Xavier's heart jump.

"It's self-preservation. Rayne is fussy about his stuff," Xavier said. "Which you shouldn't be snooping through!" he added, thinking about a couple of drawers of sex toys in particular that he didn't want to think about Clint looking into. And where were those pictures of him? After their argument Rayne had retrieved the ones he thrown in the trash bin and scooped up the rest and Xav hadn't seen them since. He turned and made a little shooing gesture as he walked toward the door since Clint was blocking the doorway now.

"Yes mum," Clint grinned at him. "Bet he'd do his nut if he knew you'd been letting me live here, rent free while he was off doing his thing. Serves him right for not ringing though, yeah?" before Xavier had time to comment on that last remark, or even feel stung by it, Clint was rambling on again. "Tell you what, you should come and see where I hang out usually. I'll give you a proper tour, city of London and all that. Introduce you to some of the lads I mix with. Just to say thanks for helping me out. Would that be cool?"

It was on the tip of Xavier's tongue to tell him no. He could not really foresee anything but trouble if he got introduced around to Clint's friends. However, he didn't think the casual invitation was quite as casual as Clint made it seem. He supposed there weren't too many people that were nice to Clint, and this was sort of a way for the kid to say thanks. Besides, what else did he have to do?

"Sure." Xav said with a little shrug.

"Cool!" Clint beamed at him. "We'll do it tomorrow, yeah?"

He bounced back into the lounge and settled in front of his dad's laptop again, queuing up another game.

The next morning dawned bright and clear, one of those rare autumn days when it was both sunny and not too cold. Even the city looked quite bright and pleased with itself in the sunshine and Xav took Clint to their regular café for breakfast before they set off on their travels. The boy even consented to sit outside with him, even though he muttered under his breath that it was a poncey thing to do in England.

"Only tourists and students sit out on the pavement," he said in answer to Xavier's quizzical look. "Fuckin mental, innit, when you're paying in your cover charge for a roof over your head and central heating."

When they had eaten and emptied the large coffee percolator (Clint had acquired a taste for coffee under Xavier's tutelage but still couldn't be coaxed to drink orange juice!) the boy led him off towards Kilburn where he had grown up. On his usual wanderings Xavier had somehow always gravitated down towards the river but Clint led him away from the Thames, walking for about a mile and a half, into a land fringed with tower-blocks and three or four storey, balconied courtyards that were always loud with chatter or the yelps of children. The walls of shops and garages were bright with zig-zags of graffiti here and more litter tumbled through the streets than in the area he was beginning to think of, just a little bit, as home.

He could see it in the people too, they were more casually dressed on the whole. Any suits he spotted generally belonged to harassed looking office workers and were cheaper and more crumpled than the business attire of the city bankers. The general uniform of worn denims and tee shirts or hoodies and track bottoms was the norm here. Xav was slightly conscious of being a bit over-dressed.