Hernon laid in the orange glow of a fireplace, his chest rising and falling steadily. His eyes stayed closed and he remained unconscious. His hands were bound underneath him by rope; the metal shackles were left broken after the wave of magic Darion had sent through them. Hernon's cape was splayed around him on the ground, imitating a shadow.

The two men were in a motel room. Multiple beds lined the walls, but a mention of being on a mission for the royal family cleared a room up just for them in the matter of seconds.

Darion observed the man from a chair, his nails up to his mouth. He shouldn't have reacted the way he did; it was the first time anything like that had ever happened before. It had to be magic, there was simply no other explanation. Darion slid down next to Hernon with a grace gained from years of perfecting his movements. He looked up and down the man's still body, seeing nothing out of the ordinary. He opened his palms and hovered them over the other man, letting his magic reach out into his body; if Hernon was a weilder of magic, Darion would know soon. Not even a trace amount of magic made itself know during the search.

Impossible.

Darion had to look deeper, that's all. This time, he placed his hands directly on Hernon's body. The fire kept the chills at bay as he restarted his search. Darion let his fingers glide across Hernon's torso, each muscle firm yet soft to the touch. He searched his chest, discovering nothing, yet finding his hand lingering.

Darion flinched back, his hands still extended out. Somehow his magic was still taking effect while he was unconscious. He had the sudden urge to touch the man's face, so he did just that. His skin was prickly down where Darion's own shadow of a beard was. The eyelashes on the man were longer than usual and the eyebrows were kept neat. Darion couldn't stop himself from leaning forward, putting his face close to Hernon's.

Hernon's breath blew through his nose, brushing across Darion's face. Darion's eyes flicked down to the other man's lips. A tingle jumped across his own. His eyes traveled up to the eyelids closing him off from the pupils, the hand he placed on the cheek earlier still right where he had placed it.

The lids flew back, revealing brown--almost golden--eyes; the pupils flicking to Darion. Darion snapped back, moving from his knees to sitting on his butt with his knees bent.

"You're awake."

"Uh huh." Hernon pulled on his restraints, but they wouldn't loosen in the slightest. With a bit of difficulty, he pulled himself up to a sitting position. "So...what were you just doing there?"

"What?"

"You were rather," he began before stopping, searching for the word he wanted. "Close."

Darion kept a straight face as his stomach filled with butterflies--he'd never experienced such feelings around prisoners. He was going to get to the bottom of this if it was the last thing he'd do.

He decided to change the subject.

"Do you wield any magic?" Darion asked.

"What?"

"Magic, do you wield it?"

Hernon shifted a little, confused and uncomfortable. "You mean like you and palm readers and people like that?"  Darion almost rolled his eyes at the suggestion of him being like a palm reader; palm readers observed and nothing more. He nodded anyway. "Oh God, no. If I had magic, I'd be a hell of a lot richer."

"It doesn't make sense," Darion muttered to himself, getting up from the floor. He paced to the other side of the room and gazed out the window a bit, trying to make sense of the puzzle forming in his mind.

"What doesn't make sense?" Darion completely ignored the question, turning back to Hernon.

"And what are you wearing?" He gestured to the shirt Hernon wore. "It's been distracting me all night."

Hernon looked down at his shirt. "This? It's the new look in the Fab community. I believe it's called a 'Cropped Shirt' or something like that." He shook his head to get back on track. "Not important. What doesn't make sense?"

Darion hesitated before sitting back down in the chair. He tucked his lips into his mouth, figuring out how he was going to word this.

"I can't really explain this, but you make me...feel...things I don't feel around other men." His eyes drifted up to the ceiling. "Or other people for that matter."

Hernon's eyebrows were drawn together. Using his feet, he turned himself towards Darion making sure he didn't fall back into the flames hissing at him.

"Has any one else ever made you feel like this before?" he asked. His eyebrows were now raised and he leaned forward a little bit.

"My fiance. She's the only one." It felt weird for Darion to say that, it was even more weird for him to say it without hesitating.

"I think I know what's wrong with you." There was a little bit of excitement in his voice. Darion didn't allow himself to show any surprise; he didn't want to get himself invested in what was probably nothing helpful. "I personally don't think there's anything wrong with you--I actually find you fascinating--but I know you won't accept it at first."

"I don't care about all of that, just tell me why I'm feeling what I feel."

"From what I can tell, you're a Both-lover. Welcome to the Fab community!" He went to open his arms for a hug, but was reminded of his restraints by a sharp pain.

"A Both-lover?" Darion felt his skin warm up despite the fire already having done so. He slid back to the floor, deciding that if they were going to have such a seemingly important conversation, they should both be at eye level. "What does that mean?"

"Pull down my trousers and I'll help you find out." Darion looked down at the pants Hernon wore. At first he was confused, but he soon understood what the man was suggesting.

"I will not fiddle with your phallus!" Darion said. He was taken aback and quite shocked while Hernon just sat there laughing.

"I'm kidding you, Heart Breaker, but I'm telling the truth about you being a Both-lover."

"Darion," he snapped. The name came out too harsh for his liking, so he reeled in his tone and continued. "You can call me 'Darion.' I'm not too fond of the nickname I've been given."

"That's a shame; it's a pretty good name to have on the streets, but to each their own. But 'Darion' isn't so bad a name either."

The compliment almost brought a smile to Darion's face.

Hernon continued on talking. "And about the Both-lover thing: basically, you seem to love both woman and man. Most people--Other-lovers--love people of the opposite sex; man loves woman, woman loves man. I myself am a Same-lover; I love men." The gaze of the two men connected, creating a link that couldn't be severed by any blade--not even Excalibur itself. Darion was the first to look away.

"If I'm a Both-lover, why is this the first time I've felt anything like this for another man?"

Hernon shrugged at the question. "You may have been denying those feelings and interpreting them as something else. You probably just needed the most handsome man in all the land to make you understand they weren't ordinary feelings." Hernon flashed a cocky smile and gave the other man a quick wink which sent Darion's own mouth tugging upwards, but he kept it under control.

Darion stayed seated in the chair, scratching his chin as he looked around the room. He even looked at Hernon from time to time. He wasn't certain how much he believed this Both-lover stuff, but he still had a job to do.

"You said you weren't a thief."

"You love changing the subject when you're uncomfortable, don't you?" Hernon said. He didn't get a response from Darion, and honestly he was beginning to not expect them. "I didn't steal anything. In fact, I was framed."

"Framed? By who?"

"A Lord."

Darion laughed, getting onto his feet. "You seriously think I'm going to question a Lord simply cause you said you were framed?" He almost doubled over in laughter. "You're even crazier than I thought."

"I said no such thing, but I wouldn't mind your help." He was only met with a bout of laughter. Darion leaned down close to Hernon.

"You can't go up against a Lord and expect to come out victorious. Without proof of a confession, it your word against his; an we both know who they'll--" Smoke stung his nose. Before Darion could investigate, Hernon pulled his wrists apart, burnt rope falling to the floor. A quick sweep of the legs sent Darion hurtling to the ground, his breath knocked out of him for the second time in less than a day. Hernon wasted no time climbing on top of him, pinning his arms with his knees. He used his weight to keep the rest of Darion pinned to the ground.

He spoke quickly. "Now I know I was only able to pin you down like this because I got the drop on you, and that my life is in more danger with every passing second, so I'll make this quick. I was framed with attempting to steal the royal jewels by Lord Crestfall simply for being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

"I'll tell you all about it, but only in a public space--in concern for my life, of course. I know you can find me no matter where I go, so there's no need for me to give you an address or anything. And about the other topic: I promise I'll help you, but you have to help me. Deal?" If looks could kill, Hernon would've been dead a long time ago. "I'm still alive, so I assume that's a deal." He looked around before grabbing Darion's knife from its sheath. He twirled it around a bit, admiring the craftsmanship.

"Oh, and one more thing for you to consider," Hernon continued. He leaned down quick as lightning and connected his lips with Darion's. Darion's eyes widened at the kiss, but soon his tense body relaxed. Just as he was about to lean in, Hernon pulled away.

Darion was left in a dazed state. Although he was staring right at Hernon--who was grinning like a jester--he didn't see the knife hilt coming down on his temple.