[FIC] Earl Cain/Godchild
Title: The Actor's Craft
Fandom: Earl Cain/Godchild
Pairing: implied Riff/Cain
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 606 words
Notes: I apologize profusely to inarticulate for not only taking so long to write this, but for the fact that it's so very short and devoid of porn. I failed a little here, yeah.



The street was cold and dim, the night's fog casting a damp chill over the area that was difficult to escape. Even wearing a thick coat and scarf, Riff found himself not entirely unaffected. He could only imagine how freezing the thinly-dressed prostitutes hanging around the corners must have felt. With dresses hanging off their shoulders and fabric rubbed thin from long use, they huddled in groups. Thin hands clutched at patched shawls, though most seemed hesitant to pull the garment too closely around themselves for fear of losing potential customers by concealing their bodies. Just looking at them was enough to make one shiver, Riff thought, as he briefly brought his gloved hands out of his pockets to warm them with his breath.

"I've got a better way to warm you up, sir, if you're willing," a low voice murmured from somewhere at Riff's side.

Riff turned to find a slim boy-prostitute sizing him up, a faint smile on his face-- which, as far as Riff could tell in the darkness, was pretty enough, although smudged with soot. "Ah, my apologies, but I'm waiting for someone," he told the boy.

The boy's smile turned amused with a twist of his lips. He stepped forward until he was a hair's breadth from Riff, resting oddly elegant hands on the man's chest. "Are you sure I'm not what you're waiting for?" The accent was strange, but the voice oddly familiar, and a sudden glimpse of the boy's eyes in the flickering streetlight suddenly revealed the reason. Seeing recognition flash across Riff's face, the boy gave an amused chuckle. He pressed a finger to Riff's lips to forestall any questions. "I told you to wait for me here, did I not? To investigate Lord Hallendale's activities, I'm afraid a bit of play-acting will be required. I thought this best, considering his preferences."

"My lord--" Riff began, his mouth moving against the frigid finger pressed to it. A raised eyebrow silenced that particular statement, however, and Riff sighed. "Must you?" he asked instead. Cain's body was too slim under the ratty clothes he was wearing to effectively withstand the cold weather, and Riff could feel his entire frame shivering as he pressed himself to his chest. Automatically, Riff found himself slipping an arm around his master's waist to pull him closer.

"It's already decided," Cain said firmly. "I will go see what I can discover from our dear lord. Your role shall be to extract me from the situation if it gets out of hand." He pulled away with a smirk, spreading his arms in display. "I do seem the type to be in demand by a jealous patron, don't you think? You'll have to make it convincing, though. Be possessive." He pressed close for a moment longer, his breath hot against Riff's neck. "I'll even forgive you a bit of... manhandling, shall we say."

Taking a sharp breath, Riff nodded his assent. He wasn't entirely sure his voice wouldn't betray him, with Cain so near that he fancied he could hear the young man's heartbeat. Cain flashed him another dangerous smile before disappearing into the darkness. For what seemed like an eternity, but in reality must have been less than a minute, Riff lost sight of him. Then he spotted him once more at the next corner over, talking to a familiar spindly silhouette-- Lord Hallendale.

Riff tried to ignore the surge of anger tempered with a very real jealousy he was unwilling to admit to when the man stroked Cain's cheek. It seemed, perhaps, that acting his given part would be easier than he thought.