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It was past midnight in the Grey Quarter, the dirty snow piled high in the gutters dyed neon by flickering lights overhead. The only sound competing with the endless whine of the freezing wind was the bass that reverberated through Kel’s boots when he strayed close to a club.
This had been a mistake.
Certainly this night-time stroll was one, but coming here in the first place was definitely another. What had he hoped to find here?
The only thing on offer seemed to be trouble and he kept his head down and hurried on when he felt it reaching out for him, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his coat, his nose dripping in the cold.
Hoarse shouting from an alleyway up ahead caught his attention, a sign in misused but aesthetically pleasing daedric runes indicating there was probably a tiny club stuck somewhere in its foetid throat. He hurried past but couldn’t resist a glance to see what the fuss was about.
He saw an argument, or half of one. Two-thirds of one, in the sense that a pair of dunmer were looming over a shorter man who was trying to calm them down, palms held non-threatening before him. They kept advancing on him, and Kel didn’t think any of them were entirely sober, but the dunmer weren’t backing down, no matter how much the human agreed with them and kept moving away.
Kel stopped walking, half morbid curiosity, half wishing he had the courage, or perhaps the stupidity, to help. As soon as the idea occurred to him he cast about for something that might do as a distraction at least. The elves had their backs to him and hadn’t noticed he was there. He could lob something and maybe that would give their victim a chance to get away.
He gently kicked at the snow and immediately his foot connected with something loose but hard and glad of his gloves he reached down and unearthed an empty bottle.
Good enough.
Before he had time to consult his common sense, he aimed at the broad back of one of the dunmer and hurled the missile as hard as he could.
And clocked the mer square in the back of the head. Unlike in the movies, the bottle didn’t break, it just bounced off the back of his skull and he staggered forward and shouted in surprise.
“I didn’t mean to do that,” Kel said, raising his hands as the pair turned on him. “It was an accident.”
He realised that sounded pretty dumb as he said it and the dunmer seemed to agree. Clearly less interested in the argument than in finding someone to fight they looked pleased Kel had decided to join the fun.
“You little s’wit. I’ll break your fucking fingers.”
Kel tried desperately to remember the shortest path to his hotel from here, and prepared to bolt.
Then the dunmer with the sore head took a knee in the snow, hard and without warning, as the human kicked it out from under him, slamming an elbow down on the sore spot on the back of his head and flooring him before turning on his friend, the conciliatory expression gone, and in its place a kind of gleeful abandon as he jabbed at the mer’s ribs, ducked a retaliatory blow and cracked him across the jaw hard enough that Kel winced in sympathy.
The mer staggered into a wall, and the human backed up the alleyway towards Kel, watching them closely, but they seemed to have lost enthusiasm and contented themselves with insults.
“Let’s get out of here,” he said as he drew level with Kel, who found himself following nervously, glancing over his shoulder as they walked away. He nearly walked into the stranger as he abruptly stopped and yelled back down the alleyway, “I’ll be back anyway, motherfuckers!”
He laughed and strode on and Kel stared at him curiously. He hadn’t reacted with anger at any point, in fact he seemed entirely satisfied with the entire thing despite the bruise on his cheek and the blood trickling from his nose.
He was a madman, clearly.
“Hey, thanks,” he said, and Kel realised his was the first actually friendly expression he’d seen since Riverwood. The first time anyone in the city had really met his eyes. It was odd to no longer feel invisible, but the man was smiling and Kel found himself smiling back. Mad maybe, but friendly at least.
“That’s okay. What was that fight about?”
“Oh, you know, humans not welcome here, blah blah. I know the type; just jealous cause I make friends easily and folks know my face and like it. Some people are insecure like that. They’re not going to get rid of me that easily though.” He spread his arms and looked to the sky, “Because I love it here.”
I can see why he makes friends easily, Kel thought and immediately the sour chaser, I wish I had the knack.
“It might not be for everyone,” he added. He must have caught Kel’s expression.
“It’s fine I guess.” It’s dirty and cold and smells weird and no one is polite, let alone friendly, except one mad human.
“First time visiting?”
Kel did not want to talk about it and he looked for a subject change. “Your nose is bleeding. You should wash that, in case it gets infected. You can come back to my hotel, it’s not far,” he said, realising with relief that he now recognised the area.
“Hmm…” the stranger seemed to sober up a bit, and regarded him thoughtfully. “You got ID?” he asked.
“Yes,” he replied with mild indignation as he automatically dug it out; he got asked for it a lot .
The man actually did more than just glance at it, and Kel had the feeling he would have spotted a fake. “Kelus.”
“Just Kel.” It sounded cooler.
“It’s nice to meet you. I’m Dyce.” He handed back the card. “You’re actually older than I am. Ah, to be an elf.”
“It has its downsides.”
“Everything does. Thank you, I will take you up on the offer. It’s fucking freezing out here.”
Kel was wearing a thick coat, well-prepared for Windhelm’s weather if nothing else but Dyce’s leather jacket ended at his hips, and Kel knew the wind cut through jeans like they weren’t there. He’d yet to meet anyone but nords so ill-dressed for this weather, although he supposed Dyce had spent his evening in the close heat of the clubs.
~~
“Uh. This is where you're staying?” Kel could hear Dyce fighting back laughter as he fumbled for the keycard to the ‘private & discreet’ entrance to Vivec’s Palace Love Hotel.
“I got a groupon voucher!” If Kel’s skin wasn’t grey he was pretty sure it would have matched his hair. “It was Cam-’ he cut himself off as the door beeped and opened. He was convinced Camilla had meant well to pass on the deal. She liked him and thought of him as a friend, which kind of made everything worse. He didn’t want to think about it.
So he thought about the fact he was ushering a bloody and potentially dangerous stranger into a love hotel instead, and regretted everything.
Or maybe he didn’t.
Camilla liked her guys rough around the edges like Faendal, and Kel guessed she would have liked Dyce for the same reason. They’d be surprised, both Camilla and Faendal, that nice, shy, wrapped up in his engineering projects Kel had gone for a midnight stroll in the Grey Quarter and had come back with whatever Dyce was. Someone from a world Kel was unfamiliar with.
As promised on the website, they didn’t see a single soul on the way to Kel’s room and by now he was almost disappointed they were unobserved.
“This is mine,” Kel said as he unlocked a door at the end of the corridor. He didn’t even know love motels had single rooms until he’d arrived less than twelve hours ago, and decided he didn’t want to think too hard about why.
He’d left because it was claustrophobic and depressing, a huge TV overlooking the bed that he wasn’t game to turn on. There was an afterthought of a table, which held his laptop, and a single chair. He sat on it while Dyce tossed his jacket on the bed (he was only wearing a tshirt underneath: why ?) and squeezed past him into the tiny bathroom. He left the door open and Kel watched him lean over the sink and examine his bloody face in the mirror.
“Do you want some help?” Kel asked and was relieved when Dyce said he didn’t.
“Just pass those tissues,” he said. The room came well stocked with those.
Kel felt it was rude to watch and took off his gloves and coat, leaving his damp boots by the door. Through sheer force of habit he woke up his laptop to examine the models he was running while Dyce expertly patched himself up. There was nothing else to do unless he wanted to take his chances with the television.
“Thanks for that,” Dyce said about five minutes later, turning off the bathroom light as he left and yawning hugely. He looked much better, although his cheek was going to bruise. He stretched his arms up over his head and then flung himself back on the bed, bouncing slightly as he landed. “Whatcha doing?” he asked drowsily and Kel wondered if he was going to nod off then and there, but his eyes were open, watching Kel curiously.
“I’m running some mathematical simulations. I'm mapping the stresses on metal in these constructions I’ve created; they’re theoretical at this stage.” He was prepared to explain further, but Dyce got in first.
“Is that why you’re here, to work?”
Kel managed a half-shrug, half-shake of his head. “I guess this is a holiday.”
“Where are you from?”
“Riverwood.”
“Ah, country boy. Looking for your roots?”
“I didn’t find any.”
Dyce smiled. “I’m not surprised, not here. You helped me out though, so you can’t say your time was wasted. You’ve got quite an arm.”
“I uh, wasn’t aiming at his head.”
Dyce laughed. “That makes an even better story. Keep that bit.”
The room felt different. Temperature control meant it couldn’t be any warmer than it was earlier, but it felt warmer, and he was sure it was his guest’s relaxed presence putting him at ease in turn. The clock on his laptop told him it was nearly one. He should want to sleep, but he found instead that he wanted to speak.
“I don’t really care about my roots. I just wanted to get away for a while and sort myself out.”
Dyce sat up and turned to him, resting his forearms on his knees as he sat on the edge of the bed.
“I’m listening. I can’t guarantee I can help, but you helped me, so it's the least I can do.”
Kel was a little reluctant, but Dyce was regarding him earnestly, and it was comforting to know he was a complete stranger, and telling him couldn't hurt anything. “It’s my friend, well, it's two friends, It’s um, Camilla and uh, Faendal. He’s my best friend. He’s, well, he’s into archery and stuff and he’s explored so much of the forest around Riverwood. Camilla's nice, everyone likes her; she's good to me too. They’re locals, I just arrived and I guess they were already, I mean he likes her, but I don’t know. I mean, there's this other guy Sven, but I don't think he's really got a chance with her. I try and stay out of it.”
He was rambling and he knew it, and he was sure he sounded stupid. Eventually he mumbled to a halt and risked glancing at Dyce from under his hair to gauge his reaction.
He wasn't laughing or looking bored, just attentive.
Kel shrugged, “I don't know really what's wrong, and I don't know what to do. I'm not really good with this stuff, or people or whatever, and if I screw something up...” He clenched his hand into a fist and glanced up as Dyce put his hand over it.
“I understand,” he said. “I really do.” He smiled a bit sadly.
“What should I do?”
“I don't know these people,” Dyce said. “I can't tell you it'll all work out and that you'll get everything and everyone you want. Be kind, be honest, and be prepared to take no for an answer.” He removed his hand and Kel let his fingers relax. “That's all I got.”
“Do you get no for an answer much?” Kel asked.
“What do you think?” He smirked, and then relented. “I'm not everyone's type. No one is.”
“Makes sense,” Kel said, but he got the feeling Dyce had reserves of charm at his disposal that would be very hard to resist. At least if you liked men, especially ones slightly disreputable and easy to talk to.
It was the latter that had helped the most, and Kel felt the oppressive mood that had chased him from Riverwood in the first place start to lift. Dyce didn't seem to expect him to disclose any further emotional baggage if he didn't want to and they sat in contemplative silence for a while.
“I like your goggles,” Dyce said eventually. “Very steampunk.”
“They're not fashion, or stage props, they're genuine dwemmer.”
“Seriously? That's pretty cool. Can I try 'em on?”
“If you want,” Kel said with some surprise. “I'll have to adjust them for your head.” He took them off and sat on the bed next to Dyce. The mattress dipped and he bumped against Dyce's side as he reached up and placed the goggles over the man's head. “Hold still a sec.” He could feel Dyce's breath on the inside of his forearm as he adjusted the goggles over the bridge of his nose. He didn't want to bump the bruise on his cheek.
Satisfied, he took his hands away as Dyce peered at him through the lenses.
“How do I look?” he asked, grinning. Kel found himself suddenly unable to answer. He should move away, he thought, it was dangerous to be so close, the dip in the bed felt like the gravitational pull of a planet.
“Do they do anything?” Dyce sounded disappointed as he prodded at the goggles, feeling for buttons to press.
“They protect your eyes,” Kel explained, amused.
“I wonder if the dwemmer had VR goggles.”
“If you can't be respectful take them off,” Kel laughed, reaching up to wrestle them off again. He trusted Dyce not to try and take off with them or damage them, but he didn't like letting them out of his possession for long regardless. They were precious.
Dyce didn't try and resist him, instead obediently ducking his head so Kel could take the goggles off, and when he raised it again they were nearly nose to nose.
Kel stared into his eyes, not quite game to breathe. He lowered his arms onto Dyce's shoulders, his goggles dangling from one hand but now hardly the focus of his attention. They were now a distant concern on the edges of the little universe he found himself in, as he was pulled inexorably towards its centre.
He'd closed his eyes at some point, so he felt rather than saw that Dyce was smiling when he kissed him.
He wasn't sure what to do now, his mouth pressed against Dyce's, his heart beating frantically. Maybe he should have said something first. Maybe he'd already screwed up-
Dyce kissed him back, his hands creeping up to cup his face, head tilting, gentle and unhurried, stubble snagging slightly on Kel's chin. Kel was aware of his own breath, desperate, whistling slightly in his nose because he was not going to come up for air if he could help it. He might never do anything else but kiss ever again, he thought.
He was starting to understand why people were so keen on the concept. He leaned in and Dyce fell back before reaching behind him to pull the goggles out from under the small of his back as Kel pressed him into the bed. Kel hadn't noticed he'd dropped them in the first place as he wound his arms around Dyce's neck.
Dyce seemed more than happy to let Kel lie on top of him and kiss him, now he'd gotten the hang of it, letting him take the lead and relinquish it as he liked. Eventually Kel lifted his head and asked in a voice he barely recognised as his own, something raspy and wrecked, “What now?”
Dyce gazed up at him and ran his thumb along Kel's lower lip.
“It is far too early in the morning to be debauching virgins,” he said, and Kel was pleased to hear how rough his voice was as well, even if relief and disappointment swirled though him at Dyce's words.
“You don't have to go,” he said, his grip tightening slightly.
“I won't,” Dyce said, and Kel relaxed again as he let Dyce pull him down for more.
At some point they decided it would be more comfortable in the bed rather than on it and although Kel desperately tried to stay awake he fell asleep almost as soon as the blankets settled over them.
Kel woke up to pale, cold light filtering in the window and Dyce's arms wrapped around his middle, the man himself sleeping peacefully as Kel briefly panicked and relaxed again as he remembered where he was and who he was with.
Dyce was still here. That's what mattered. Kel knew this wasn't anything but an interlude and it was already stinging a little to know they'd part soon enough.
He wiggled out of bed to go to the bathroom and when he returned Dyce was awake, sort of, and shrugging on his leather jacket.
“Are you leaving?” Kel asked.
“Eventually.” He walked over and put his arm around Kel's shoulders. “But I'm taking you to breakfast first. You ever had traditional Morrowind-style breakfast? I know a place where they serve a great one. We might meet some friends of mine there if we're lucky. They'll like you.” He tilted his head, “Although they will probably make some assumptions when I bring you in.”
Kel smiled, “I don't mind if they do.”
“Good. And hey, you'll be okay. Whatever happens with your friends, you are going to do just fine.”
Kel set his jaw and nodded. He would if nothing else do his best, and now he felt a little more like his best might be enough.
“Now, put your coat on and I'll see if I can get you to warm up to Windhelm a little.”
“I think I already have,” he said quietly, and he went to collect his boots.