Spin

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Spin

Chapter 2
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Van Helsing was held captive by the sight of Carl in such rapture. He wanted to run, he wanted to walk back out and pretend he'd never been here. Yet at the same time, he wanted to give in to the feeling, touch himself. . . touch Carl. He wanted to take part in the passion he was witnessing, capture each of Carl's moans with his own mouth, slide his hand. . . . Van Helsing suppressed a groan.
Carl's breaths came fast now, he moaned softly, and then cried out, thrusting his hips forward. His face was flushed, his mouth wide open as he panted in the throes of pleasure. Van Helsing had never seen anything so purely erotic as the sight of Carl's ecstasy. As Carl's movement slowed, Van Helsing's arousal continued to grow. And when Van Helsing saw Carl's eyes open, in panic he pulled his hat off his head and held it casually, he hoped, in front of himself.

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Carl's head snapped to the right. "Van Helsing!" Guilt washed over Carl as the object of his fantasy stood, staring at him.

"Carl." Van Helsing was impressed with how calm he sounded. Now to make it seem he'd just walked in, unaware of what had taken place. "Is there someone here with you?"

"N-No." Carl's eyes appeared about to pop out of his head.

"I thought I heard a voice before I came in." Van Helsing approached the table and picked up the hand-blade. "So, any progress?" He willed himself to be steady.

Carl swallowed, and almost swooned with relief. Van Helsing had just arrived. For a moment he'd feared he'd seen, he'd known. . . thank God.

"Progress?" Carl grinned mischievously and took the weapon from Van Helsing. He brought the blade to life, watching the handle as he worked it, always looking for areas that could still be improved. "How's that for progress?" Carl expected a smirk, a smile, a satisfied grin at his inventiveness. But when he looked up, Van Helsing's mouth was slightly open and his eyes were focused on Carl's so intently, Carl shuddered and felt himself throbbing back to life beneath his robes. Van Helsing's gaze went from Carl's eyes, to his mouth, back to his eyes, an almost questioning look on his face. Carl was so struck by the intensity in the glare that he dropped the weapon, blade still spinning. It skipped and sparked across the floor, leaving a inch-deep gouge in its wake.

The spell broken, Van Helsing cleared his throat. "Progress. Yes. Very impressive, Carl."

Carl chased after the speeding weapon. He called back, "Yes, progress. Don't get in its way or you'll get something chopped off. Oh, damn. Where did it end up?"

"I'll help you find it." Van Helsing followed Carl.

"Yes, you should since it's your fault."

"My fault? You dropped it." He gave Carl that curious, piercing look again.

"Yes, but if you hadn't. . . " Carl wanted to bite his tongue. Bite it right off before he could make a fool of himself.

"If I hadn't what?" Van Helsing waited.

"If you hadn't. . . come back early, I would have had more time to. . . prepare." Satisfied with his explanation, he looked for the weapon. "The initial excitement would have worn off, and I'd have been less likely to do something as stupid as drop an engaged weapon."

"Oh." Van Helsing felt slightly disappointed at that answer, and he wasn't even sure why. Before he could think too hard about what he was saying, he said, "So when I came in, that's what you were doing?"

Carl stared, eyes wide again. "Doing what?"

"Doing. . . you had just finished?" Van Helsing stared back.

"Yes, I'd just finished it and was still enjoying the moment." He took a breath. "Of success."

"I see." Van Helsing produced the weapon from behind the splintered remains of a chair. He handed it to Carl. "So, everything, I mean, it's all right?"

Carl searched Van Helsing's face, suddenly aware of the conversation they were having. Or was it Carl's imagination? Wishful thinking? Finally, looking Van Helsing directly in the eyes, he said, "I'm not sure." He held up the device, not really offering it to Van Helsing, but enough so that his comments 'could' be taken to regard it. "What do you think?"

Brother Caleb walked into the lab, startling them, followed by a bald monk who gestured wildly with his hands. Caleb stopped, hands on his wide hips. "Brother Carl, have you not been to sleep or are you up early? Oh, Van Helsing, I wasn't aware you'd returned, how are you?" And then without waiting for either man to answer, he turned to his companion, talking and gesturing just as wildly.

Carl was looking forward to showing Caleb his creation, but first he'd have to check for damage. He thought Van Helsing looked suddenly tired, and he looked as if he wanted to say something else. Both men regarded each other in silence. Carl coughed.

Van Helsing nodded. "I should report to Jinette."

"Yes, I need to check this, maybe make some modifications."

Van Helsing put his hat back on his head. "I'll see you later, then."

Carl nodded and hurried back to the worktable.

Before Van Helsing could go, he turned and watched the busy friar, amazed at such a different creature than the breathless one he'd seen only moments ago. He'd report to Jinette, later. Right now, he needed some time alone. When Carl didn't turn, caught up again in his work, Van Helsing left.

Carl turned and looked at the closed door, and wondered how many hours would pass before he saw Van Helsing again. And what they might talk about when they met.

"What hap--what happened to this table!" Caleb bent down, craned his neck to examine the table and with a frown, leveled his gaze at Carl. He shook the severed corner of the table as he spoke. "Brother Carl, what sort of mayhem took place here last night?"

Carl pulled his eyes away from the door, and looked at the blade in his hand. He squeezed. "Oh, just a minor miracle. Or two," he said, softly. The blade hummed.

End
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