Openness

Harkat's round green eyes settled on him after Mr. Crepsley's departure from their shared room. Although the grey-skinned little person was wearing his mask, Darren could tell he was hiding a grin. It was, of course, from what he had just discovered, which did not ease the situation. There were times when he wondered how deep Harkat's loyalty went, especially when it concerned their fellow traveler.

The silence that fell upon them became earsplitting. "Do you want the shower first?" he offered his friend, attempting to sway away from what he knew was about to come. "Make sure to save some hot water for me, okay?" he joked as he moved away. He headed toward the refrigerator, wanting to taste the syrupy goodness otherwise known as soda. Grabbing a cool can, he headed back to his original spot.

"He might know… Why don't you tell him?"

Widening his eyes and dropping the can of soda, Darren faced the little person. "Harkat, I can't! Even if Mr. Crepsley suspects, I cannot ever admit it. You know what he is like and what he will do if I tell him. You cannot tell him either. It's for the best." Darren bent, picked up the soda, and placed back in the refrigerator, his sudden craving gone.

Sighing, his friend nodded. "Perhaps you're over thinking this," he said. Removing his mask and collecting a towel to dry his body with, he entered the bathroom and left Darren to ponder the possibilities.

There were not too many actually. His mind was able to come up with a handful, most of which he disliked. Sitting on his bed, the young half-vampire brought his head down and settled it on the palms of his hands. Loose strands of hair fell across his eyes, obstructing the view of the hideous cerulean-colored carpet.

It had initiated as a comical musing, one he found himself thinking after Harkat and he decided to have some fun. While coming up with the strangest pairings, his friend had somehow thought of the orange-haired vampire and him. In the beginning, they had both laughed, more Harkat than he had. Yet, the more he dwelled on it, the less funny it became.

Sometimes he found himself giving the man enduring looks, he admitted. He liked what he saw, but never knew why until the game. Before then he had attributed it all to admiration. Unwittingly his round-eyed friend had watered the seed that he had planted. It had bloomed.

Exhaling a long breath, Darren closed his eyes and let himself fall on the bed that felt too soft from the many sleeping guests it had had over the years. Thankfully, the sheets did not offend his nose, which was an upgrade from their last shelter. The last place they had stayed in left him wary of cheap prices, no matter how good the deal looked. Harkat had been right to warn them, but they had disregarded the caution for some much-required sleep, which they did not receive. Reeking sheets were sufferable, but when said sheets began to cause them discomfort because of the bedbugs they carried, they left and relinquished a good day's sleep.

That, however, was one of the best days Darren could remember having. Seeing his mentor completely paranoid about bugs on his body was a sight! Harkat and he were not as fixated as he was, so naturally they teased the vampire. It was a rare and prized day full of laughter and no tragedies lurking around in the shadows.

All of it -the feelings, the thoughts, the laughs- remained engraved in paper. Keeping a journal had proven to be invaluable. Although at times he had to acknowledge there were immense risks in doing so. Anyone could come across it, open it, and read its contents.

When he thought of that his sister's image always came to mind first. The person he used to suspect would snoop around and reveal his secrets had always been her. As of late, the image had changed. She no longer was there with him, which allowed him to feel the illusion of privacy. It took him some time to figure out that there would always be curious eyes. Despite that, he was convinced his companions would not read it, unless it was strictly necessary.

Engaged with musing, Darren had not heard Harkat call out to him. It took the hit from a towel to stir him out of his mind. "That was fast," he remarked as he threw the towel back in retaliation. The towel missed the intended target and landed on the carpet.

Picking it up and putting it away, Harkat nodded. "Not that fast… I thought you might have fallen asleep again," he said, referring to previous days. "Enjoy the hot water," he grinned as he dried his short body with the fluffy towel.

Nodding, Darren got up from the bed and entered the bathroom. While he had managed to stay awake during Harkat's use of the room, he barely made it out awake on his turn. Hot water always did the trick. Now, more than ever, he was grateful to feel it on his body. Not only did it wash away all the filth, but also it helped his body go from rigid to stress-free.

Getting out of the shower was not as easy as he thought. Fatigued eyelids helped him move, though. As he pulled on the change of clothes over his body, he could have sworn he heard himself snoring. That was when he inelegantly walked out and somehow landed on his bed, asleep as soon as he hit it.

Seeing this friend stumble onto the bed, Harkat shook his head. Sometimes Darren pushed himself a little too much. This time, though, that did not appear to be the case. Knowing the half-vampire his worries had probably tired him out more than the physical activity they had endured.

Walking over, he pulled the sheets over Darren. It was not the first time he had tucked him in, and he knew it would not be the last. For a prince, he still acted like a child sometimes. It was not anything new to Harkat, who had observed the other princes as well. In their own ways, they acted childish. More so, when it came to matters that traditionally did not go hand in hand with the vampire lifestyle.

Sometimes war was easier than to declare what one thought and felt.

Green eyes glittered. Beneath his mask, Harkat smiled. Darren had told him he was not to tell Mr. Crepsley, but he never specified on other ways of letting him at the sleeping boy, Harkat began to take steps away at a snail's pace, heading towards where their luggage laid.

Finding Darren's bag, he picked it up and opened it. Giving the sleeping being one last glimpse, he stuck his hand inside. Feeling around, his fingers caught the feel of paper. Harkat curled his fingers around the binding and pulled out the journal.

After all the traveling they had done, the journal looked weather-beaten. Although it was old and frayed the written pages of Darren's life remained within it. Flipping the pages Harkat's eyes scanned for Mr. Crepsley's name, hoping it would not be in vain. As he had expected there were many pages filled with the orange-haired vampire's name.

There were far too many for him to inspect them all. Every now and then, he turned to face his friend, making sure he was still asleep. Nearing the end, Harkat's eyes began to catch allusions of Darren's attraction to his mentor. None of them was entirely definite, but they were definitely suggestible. One page in particular seemed to be devoted to Mr. Crepsley. All Darren did was praise him and practically admit he loved him! That, Harkat decided, would be the page the vampire would read.

For a moment, Harkat stopped his motions and stared at the journal in his hands. A journal was a private book with memories and collections of a person's life. It was something no one should ever invade. Yet there he was, with his friend's privacy in his hands. Lowering his head, Harkat sighed. As much as he wanted Darren to be happy, he could not do it this way. It might lead to wounded feelings or worse. It was not up to him to do such a thing as fixing up the two lonely creatures of the night.

He lowered himself to the carpeted floor and leaned against the wall. The journal was in his hands, but he no longer wished to use it. Knowing what he did, Harkat bowed his head. He would have to tell Darren the truth as soon as he could. The thought of it made him groan. Resting his head against the wall, Harkat nodded off.

Movement and the altering of brightness of the light in the room woke Harkat up. Yawning, he looked around to see what had pulled him from his sleep. With a familiar shabby thing in his hands, Mr. Crepsley stood next to him. It took Harkat a moment to realize what he held in his hands. When it all came into focus, he stood up right away and attempted to speak, but found himself quite mute.

The vampire's eyes stopped their movement. "Is this Darren's journal, Harkat?" he asked, closing it at once.

If ever there was a sticky situation, this was the stickiest. What could he answer that would not land him into even more trouble? Surely, the scarred vampire knew it was his assistant's private thoughts in writing! Still, Harkat felt no comfort in going forth with any answer.

Glancing at his friend, who remained asleep, Harkat spoke. "You know it is."

"I knew it looked familiar," Mr. Crepsley said with a nod. "Darren should take proper care of his belongings. Private objects such as these should be kept safe and hidden." With those words, the vampire walked away.

"Did you read it?" Harkat asked, hoping he did not. Whether he did or not he did not reveal. As soon as he had finished asking the question, the vampire had closed the door to his room. Digesting rotten food was bearable compared to how the feeling of dread left his stomach.

As if he had had his alarm set, Darren woke up. Darkness had fallen over the city quite swiftly. It was time to wake up, eat something, and then go about making plans for the night. Groaning from exhaustion, he pulled himself out of the bed. Rather than standing up he fell to the floor and remained there for a second before getting up.

"Good morning," he mumbled to Harkat as he wiped his eyes.

Hearing no response, he looked around the room. At once, he spotted his grey-skinned friend in one of the corners. Tilting his head to the side, Darren called out to him again. "Are you feeling well, Harkat?"

The little person nodded once. Darren heard him clear his throat, which he took as a good sign. "Darren, I picked up your journal… without your permission and read it," he confessed.

There was a brief moment in where Darren had to clear his throat, too. A sudden dryness had overtaken him. "Oh," he coughed up. What was he to say to that? If it had been his sister, a few words came to mind. It, however, was not what he had expected. "Well, as long as you keep it a secret… I suppose it is okay. I trusted you, Harkat… Why?"

Harkat looked down. "I thought he should know… I know you told me to keep quiet, but Darren I could not. After reading it… I realized you were right. It is stupid…. but I fell asleep with the journal in my hands… and… Mr. Crepsley might have read it. I'm sorry."

Feeling numb, he nodded as he took in everything his friend had told him. "He might have read it, Harkat? You're not sure?" The little person shook his head. "Why? What was he doing that made you think that?"

"He had it in his hands, but I didn't see him read it," answered Harkat.

"Maybe he didn't," Darren said.

"You could ask him… I did, but he didn't answer me."

Sighing, Darren closed his eyes. "Well, he's certainly not going to tell me! What should I do if he knows? If he does, I need to know or else it is going to be strange between us. We don't need one of us to be paranoid in times like these!"

Harkat's eyes sparkled. "You can trick it out of him."

The half-vampire stood still. His eyes narrowed as he took in a breath. "He's too smart for that, but I may have an idea. Mr. Crepsley is honorable, so it might work."

"What is it?"

"How would you like to play a game?"

An hour later, they were eating together with Mr. Crepsley. All the while Darren kept shifting, trying his best to focus on the meal and not on the vampire. It was difficult trying to keep quiet when all he wanted was to shout out the question that was killing him. However, he restrained himself and waited until they had all finished.

Coughing, Harkat stood up. They had settled on the idea that only Darren would play with Mr. Crepsley. It appeared to be the only efficient way. "I'll be right back," he excused himself, giving Darren the signal to begin. He exited the room and went into the room he shared with Darren.

"I have just remembered I need to go and request more clean towels," Mr. Crepsley said as he too stood up.

Without much time to think, Darren shouted, "I'll go for you!" The orange-haired man stopped in his tracks. "Besides, I needed to go out."

"That is acceptable," the vampire replied, not turning around to face him.

Pushing his chair in, Darren began to walk towards the door. "Uh, Mr. Crepsley…" he began as he stood next to him.

"Yes?"

Straightening his back, Darren hoped he did not appear nervous. His hands stopped trembling, but sweat remained in them. After wiping his palms on his pants, he looked up at his mentor. "Truth or dare?" he uttered.

Raising an eyebrow, the vampire threw him a look. "Excuse me?"

Grinning, he shrugged. "Haven't you ever played the game?" Mr. Crepsley shook his head as he continued to give him that same curious look. "Well," he began after freeing his throat from the tightness he was feeling. "Mr. Crepsley, it's a popular game. If you pick dare, then you have to do whatever it is that the person tells you to do. It's the same thing for truth, except you have to tell the truth for whatever question you are asked," he explained. Noticing the vampire no longer looked confused, he grinned wider. "So pick one!"

"To play such a game is foolish. Why would anyone ever want to do it?" the vampire challenged.

He opened his mouth to reply, but had no answer ready. "Um," he muttered. Without thinking much he replied, "Well, since when do vampires back out of a foolish game? You play them, too." Although he was not sure, he thought he saw Mr. Crepsley roll his eyes.

"You will not let me get of this, will you?"

It was such an obvious question from the man. He, of course, would have to give an obvious answer. "Nope," he said with a smirk.

Then without further delay, he received his answer. "Dare." His voice oozed with certainty that he had the upper hand.

Chewing his lip shortly, Darren thought of one. "I dare you to tell me the truth to the following questions: Did you read my journal? Do you know about my secret? If so, what will you do?" Why wait and play when he could get straight to the point? Aside from that, he could not stand what worrying did to his body.

His ears caught the unmistakable sound of gulping. "You should ask Harkat," he responded as he moved away from the young half-vampire.

"I already did. He told me you didn't tell him anything when he asked you," he countered. "You did read it, didn't you? It is so obvious. So do you know then?"

Staring directly at him, the scarred vampire nodded. "I did not." His answer made his eyes go wide. Lying was a possibility, but Darren was not sure.

"But you know, right? You know how I feel about you! You know that I love you!" Darren brought his hand to his mouth. It was too late, though, he had already spoken the secret he had wanted to keep silent.

Grimacing, Mr. Crepsley looked away. "No one needs to read your journal to know that. You make your emotions clear and known," he said. His eyes were still avoiding the half-vampire. "To answer your other question, I am not certain what course of action is appropriate. I have been in love with several women who were much younger than I was. Being a vampire has the downfall of one being much older than most. This is different."

"It's because I'm not a girl, right?" Darren asked, already guessing where the discussion would turn to.

"Precisely, you are not a female," he agreed. "However, I know what it is like to find the same gender attractive."

Beneath his chest, Darren's heart began to thump so loudly he could not quite understand what the vampire was telling him. "What are you trying to say? No, never mind, you have already said it. At least I think you have. Are you…?"

Scratching his scar with his index finger, Mr. Crepsley hummed for a second. "You are still my assistant, but I would not object to us being together. That, however, might take a while. We have a vital task, one that we cannot ignore, Darren. If you would still like to afterwards, we could perhaps… Well, you know."

Whooping with merriment, Darren hugged him. "You do realize this'll take all my patience, right? As long as you keep your promise, I'll wait," he vowed.

Gently shoving him aside, Mr. Crepsley nodded. "It will take time, Darren. The Vampaneze Lord is our main priority, but as soon as we rid of him, the future will be ours. Personally, I am hoping we get through this as fast as possible," he said, delight lining every word.

The door opened to reveal Harkat, who after hearing Darren's whoop got curious about the outcome. Neither vampire saw him there. The peaceful embrace they shared was all they cared about for a long spell. Smiling, Harkat closed the door on them and wondered briefly about whether or not to put the 'Do Not Disturb' sign outside.

The prompt: Mr. Crepsley finds Darren's journal and finds out that he likes him. Include the following: Harkat, a can of soda, and a game of truth or dare between them. It must be a happy ending!

This fan fiction is dedicated to Jeannie122. She gave me the prompt and the pairing, which is new to me. Thank you, sweetheart! Sorry for the ending. It was the best that I could come up with.