Fic - "Hestia" (2/7)
Title: Hestia (2/7)
Summary: Azazel and Riptide retire from the Brotherhood, with Magneto’s blessing. This multi-chaptered story chronicles their life together on their houseboat over a period of ten years. We will see a wedding, a birth, the relationship getting into trouble and getting out of it, and more. Angel, Mystique, Magneto and others will make appearances.
Word count: All together, the word count for the seven chapters comes to 16,000. Each chapter is around 3,000 words.
Rating: R
Pairing: Azazel/Riptide
Disclaimer: I don’t own X-men, unfortunately.
If you missed Chapter One, click here. Chapter Two is behind the cut.
.
Hestia, Chapter Two
1966
Riptide had been harboring a desire for months to enjoy a night on the town. It had easily been a year or more since he had experienced the hustle and bustle of a night out, and he wanted to take in a play, enjoy some overpriced cuisine, go dancing, and maybe visit a bar. Angel had recently visited Riptide and Azazel and she had also spent some time in New York City the prior month, whetting Riptide’s appetite for it.
Arrangements were made, and Riptide and Mystique were teleported to the city for the first three items on the list. Although the noise and interaction with so many people were jarring to Riptide at first, he adjusted quickly; he had always been very adaptable. He and Mystique took in a musical, ate at an expensive restaurant, and went dancing. Once again, Azazel’s ability to teleport and steal cash proved crucial to their escapade.
“I must be getting older,” Mystique said, shocked to find herself yawning. She spoke loudly so Riptide could hear her over the music. “I’m done for the night.” She may have had mixed feelings about having temporarily shifted into her former, conventional appearance but she had enjoyed the night.
“It is one in the morning,” Riptide allowed, glancing at his gold watch. “You lasted longer than I expected you would. I know how hard Magneto works you.”
They placed a call to a designated pay phone; a patient Azazel had been hiding near it for the past hour awaiting their contact. Azazel then teleported Mystique back to the Brotherhood’s current base.
“Ready to return to Sparta?” Azazel asked, turning towards Riptide.
“Not yet,” Riptide said. “I haven’t been out in so long that I think I need another couple of hours on the town. Is that okay with you?”
Azazel’s eyes had widened but quickly resumed their normal shape. Riptide looked so invigorated. Azazel knew that his spouse wasn’t as reclusive as he was and Riptide had hardly set foot off of Sparta for more than a few minutes at a time during the past year. He deserved a night out, and as much time as he wanted in order to feel that the jaunt had been worth it.
“You will not be bored alone?” Azazel asked.
“Well, you know how I feel. I’d prefer if you could come with but I know that’s not possible,” Riptide said. Out of habit, he took a few quick glances to ensure that he and Azazel were still alone on the street.
“Very well,” Azazel nodded. “I will be back at this phone in two hours.”
“Thank you, my love.”
***
Two hours later, Azazel and Riptide spoke little before returning to their ship and settling down for bed. Riptide’s voice was slightly hoarse, Azazel noted, but the man looked impeccable as always. His hair was not askew and he didn’t smell of excessive alcohol, though faint cigarette smoke clung to him. Azazel smiled as he observed Riptide fall asleep seconds after hitting the pillow.
Azazel was eager to ask his husband how his evening went. However Riptide didn’t rise until nearly the hour that they normally prepared their lunch.
He emerged from the shower to find Azazel in the kitchen, surveying the contents of the cupboards and removing a cutting board. Riptide encircled his arms around Azazel and kissed the back of his neck.
“So how was it? Tell me all about it,” Azazel asked, enjoying the feel of Riptide’s strong arms and the soft terry cloth robe against him.
Riptide described his evening at length as they prepared lunch. He caught Azazel up on Mystique’s life and what the Brotherhood was doing, their many battles against these apparently undefeatable X-men. Riptide echoed a comment he had made also during Angel’s recent visit - he was so glad that they were retired and not battling these fellow mutants. He described the musical that he and Mystique saw, though it was quite lighthearted and flippant - not to Azazel’s taste at all. He talked about their meal, having gotten a few ideas from the French cuisine. He gleefully bragged about his prowess on the dance floor, demonstrating a step or two. When Riptide stumbled during the dance demonstration, nearly colliding with the doorway, Azazel wryly remarked, “I hope you did better last night.”
Riptide smiled, and then sat down. Azazel brought their plates to the table and joined him.
“What did you do after Mystique left?” Azazel asked.
“Well, I heard that there are now several places where men like us get together,” Riptide said. “Bars. So I went to that part of the city and found a bar.”
Azazel’s rational mind was telling him that he had no cause for concern, but he noticed that his pulse had begun to accelerate slightly. During the passing of a second or two, he also observed that Riptide had looked down when he had said the words “men like us get together” and he was now whirling one of his fingers about, using his powers to create a slight gust of wind.
“They are called ‘gay bars’, I think,” Riptide continued, looking at his wind gust.
“Gay,” Azazel echoed, the one syllable word with its long “a” sounding very foreign on Azazel’s Russian tongue. “Is that what they are calling men like us now?”
“I guess so, but I’m not sure where it comes from. I thought it means happy. Strange, isn’t it, what words can do and how they can change? I wonder why this one changed like this.”
Azazel noted that Riptide spoke those sentences quickly and that his eyes were still towards his fingers rather than Azazel. Riptide was usually, like Azazel, a man of few words.
Azazel didn’t want to ask the question, but he realized that he really had to. “So, how was it there? Did you sleep with someone?”
“Yes,” Riptide admitted. He exhaled. “I did.”
“I see.” He gritted his teeth.
“Oh, Azazel,” Riptide said, ceasing the use of his powers and taking one of Azazel’s hands. “Don’t be like that. It meant nothing; I’ll never see the man again.”
“What did he look like?” Azazel asked. He jerked his hand back from Riptide’s and his flinty eyes drilled into him.
“Well,” Riptide smiled widely, “he was positively hideous! He had - what is it called - pimples, all over his face. His hair was greasy and he wore rags. He was very fat, and his stomach was out to here,” Riptide said, gesturing.
Upon observing Azazel’s look, which only grew more rigid and angry by the second, Riptide dropped his smile. “Okay, I’m sorry,” Riptide said. “Joking. He was not bad looking. Nothing like you, of course, but not bad looking.”
“What did you do together? Where did you do it? Did you let him fuck you?” Azazel rapidly fired off the questions.
Riptide’s patience and conciliatory nature evaporated. He slammed his hand down on the table. Riptide’s voice could come across hard as iron, too, and he did not hold back. “I am confused, Azazel. You sleep with Mystique and Angel right here on our Sparta, with me in the next room! You do this almost every time they come to visit, although it was very nice of you not to do it on our wedding night, I must add. Do I ever question you or act jealous?”
Azazel swallowed. “They are just girls. It has nothing to do with how I feel about you.”
“Exactly!” Riptide exclaimed, launching his hands into the air.
“But there is one difference that is very important,” Azazel insisted, leaning forward. “I ask you before. You give me permission.”
Riptide was silent for several moments. He looked back down at his hands and toyed with the idea of creating more gusts of wind, but let it go.
Azazel knew he had him, and he continued. “I did not touch either of those girls until you said it was okay.”
“You have a point,” Riptide allowed. His voice quickly moved from soft back to stone. “But I must also say that this was the first time I have touched another man in all the - how many? - nine years since I first met you. Not once in nine years have I touched another! And you must admit that it was not…not crazy of me to think that this would be okay, given that you have been with others.”
Azazel stood up, abruptly knocking over his chair. His voice was a mixture of sorrow and anger. “Maybe you should take some time to think about this, Janos.”
With that, Azazel teleported away.
MORE SOON!
Please review
Chapter Three is now posted!
Summary: Azazel and Riptide retire from the Brotherhood, with Magneto’s blessing. This multi-chaptered story chronicles their life together on their houseboat over a period of ten years. We will see a wedding, a birth, the relationship getting into trouble and getting out of it, and more. Angel, Mystique, Magneto and others will make appearances.
Word count: All together, the word count for the seven chapters comes to 16,000. Each chapter is around 3,000 words.
Rating: R
Pairing: Azazel/Riptide
Disclaimer: I don’t own X-men, unfortunately.
If you missed Chapter One, click here. Chapter Two is behind the cut.
.
Hestia, Chapter Two
1966
Riptide had been harboring a desire for months to enjoy a night on the town. It had easily been a year or more since he had experienced the hustle and bustle of a night out, and he wanted to take in a play, enjoy some overpriced cuisine, go dancing, and maybe visit a bar. Angel had recently visited Riptide and Azazel and she had also spent some time in New York City the prior month, whetting Riptide’s appetite for it.
Arrangements were made, and Riptide and Mystique were teleported to the city for the first three items on the list. Although the noise and interaction with so many people were jarring to Riptide at first, he adjusted quickly; he had always been very adaptable. He and Mystique took in a musical, ate at an expensive restaurant, and went dancing. Once again, Azazel’s ability to teleport and steal cash proved crucial to their escapade.
“I must be getting older,” Mystique said, shocked to find herself yawning. She spoke loudly so Riptide could hear her over the music. “I’m done for the night.” She may have had mixed feelings about having temporarily shifted into her former, conventional appearance but she had enjoyed the night.
“It is one in the morning,” Riptide allowed, glancing at his gold watch. “You lasted longer than I expected you would. I know how hard Magneto works you.”
They placed a call to a designated pay phone; a patient Azazel had been hiding near it for the past hour awaiting their contact. Azazel then teleported Mystique back to the Brotherhood’s current base.
“Ready to return to Sparta?” Azazel asked, turning towards Riptide.
“Not yet,” Riptide said. “I haven’t been out in so long that I think I need another couple of hours on the town. Is that okay with you?”
Azazel’s eyes had widened but quickly resumed their normal shape. Riptide looked so invigorated. Azazel knew that his spouse wasn’t as reclusive as he was and Riptide had hardly set foot off of Sparta for more than a few minutes at a time during the past year. He deserved a night out, and as much time as he wanted in order to feel that the jaunt had been worth it.
“You will not be bored alone?” Azazel asked.
“Well, you know how I feel. I’d prefer if you could come with but I know that’s not possible,” Riptide said. Out of habit, he took a few quick glances to ensure that he and Azazel were still alone on the street.
“Very well,” Azazel nodded. “I will be back at this phone in two hours.”
“Thank you, my love.”
***
Two hours later, Azazel and Riptide spoke little before returning to their ship and settling down for bed. Riptide’s voice was slightly hoarse, Azazel noted, but the man looked impeccable as always. His hair was not askew and he didn’t smell of excessive alcohol, though faint cigarette smoke clung to him. Azazel smiled as he observed Riptide fall asleep seconds after hitting the pillow.
Azazel was eager to ask his husband how his evening went. However Riptide didn’t rise until nearly the hour that they normally prepared their lunch.
He emerged from the shower to find Azazel in the kitchen, surveying the contents of the cupboards and removing a cutting board. Riptide encircled his arms around Azazel and kissed the back of his neck.
“So how was it? Tell me all about it,” Azazel asked, enjoying the feel of Riptide’s strong arms and the soft terry cloth robe against him.
Riptide described his evening at length as they prepared lunch. He caught Azazel up on Mystique’s life and what the Brotherhood was doing, their many battles against these apparently undefeatable X-men. Riptide echoed a comment he had made also during Angel’s recent visit - he was so glad that they were retired and not battling these fellow mutants. He described the musical that he and Mystique saw, though it was quite lighthearted and flippant - not to Azazel’s taste at all. He talked about their meal, having gotten a few ideas from the French cuisine. He gleefully bragged about his prowess on the dance floor, demonstrating a step or two. When Riptide stumbled during the dance demonstration, nearly colliding with the doorway, Azazel wryly remarked, “I hope you did better last night.”
Riptide smiled, and then sat down. Azazel brought their plates to the table and joined him.
“What did you do after Mystique left?” Azazel asked.
“Well, I heard that there are now several places where men like us get together,” Riptide said. “Bars. So I went to that part of the city and found a bar.”
Azazel’s rational mind was telling him that he had no cause for concern, but he noticed that his pulse had begun to accelerate slightly. During the passing of a second or two, he also observed that Riptide had looked down when he had said the words “men like us get together” and he was now whirling one of his fingers about, using his powers to create a slight gust of wind.
“They are called ‘gay bars’, I think,” Riptide continued, looking at his wind gust.
“Gay,” Azazel echoed, the one syllable word with its long “a” sounding very foreign on Azazel’s Russian tongue. “Is that what they are calling men like us now?”
“I guess so, but I’m not sure where it comes from. I thought it means happy. Strange, isn’t it, what words can do and how they can change? I wonder why this one changed like this.”
Azazel noted that Riptide spoke those sentences quickly and that his eyes were still towards his fingers rather than Azazel. Riptide was usually, like Azazel, a man of few words.
Azazel didn’t want to ask the question, but he realized that he really had to. “So, how was it there? Did you sleep with someone?”
“Yes,” Riptide admitted. He exhaled. “I did.”
“I see.” He gritted his teeth.
“Oh, Azazel,” Riptide said, ceasing the use of his powers and taking one of Azazel’s hands. “Don’t be like that. It meant nothing; I’ll never see the man again.”
“What did he look like?” Azazel asked. He jerked his hand back from Riptide’s and his flinty eyes drilled into him.
“Well,” Riptide smiled widely, “he was positively hideous! He had - what is it called - pimples, all over his face. His hair was greasy and he wore rags. He was very fat, and his stomach was out to here,” Riptide said, gesturing.
Upon observing Azazel’s look, which only grew more rigid and angry by the second, Riptide dropped his smile. “Okay, I’m sorry,” Riptide said. “Joking. He was not bad looking. Nothing like you, of course, but not bad looking.”
“What did you do together? Where did you do it? Did you let him fuck you?” Azazel rapidly fired off the questions.
Riptide’s patience and conciliatory nature evaporated. He slammed his hand down on the table. Riptide’s voice could come across hard as iron, too, and he did not hold back. “I am confused, Azazel. You sleep with Mystique and Angel right here on our Sparta, with me in the next room! You do this almost every time they come to visit, although it was very nice of you not to do it on our wedding night, I must add. Do I ever question you or act jealous?”
Azazel swallowed. “They are just girls. It has nothing to do with how I feel about you.”
“Exactly!” Riptide exclaimed, launching his hands into the air.
“But there is one difference that is very important,” Azazel insisted, leaning forward. “I ask you before. You give me permission.”
Riptide was silent for several moments. He looked back down at his hands and toyed with the idea of creating more gusts of wind, but let it go.
Azazel knew he had him, and he continued. “I did not touch either of those girls until you said it was okay.”
“You have a point,” Riptide allowed. His voice quickly moved from soft back to stone. “But I must also say that this was the first time I have touched another man in all the - how many? - nine years since I first met you. Not once in nine years have I touched another! And you must admit that it was not…not crazy of me to think that this would be okay, given that you have been with others.”
Azazel stood up, abruptly knocking over his chair. His voice was a mixture of sorrow and anger. “Maybe you should take some time to think about this, Janos.”
With that, Azazel teleported away.
MORE SOON!
Please review
Chapter Three is now posted!