First Kiss: Castrati AU
Mar. 23rd, 2018 12:36 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
musingsofmauraThe thundering applause continued well after the last notes of the finale shimmered and disappeared into the air. Niall craned his neck to catch a glimpse of Harry’s face as the curtain closed but couldn’t see him from his place down in the pit. As soon as he could, Niall hastily shut the cover and locked his harpsichord, snatching up his score and slipping out while all of the other musicians milled about, discussing the performance. He wove his way through backstage, dodging clumps of actors, and stage hands carrying scenery and props, before making his way to Harry’s dressing room.
Harry was standing in front of his mirror, and his eyes flicked up as Niall shut the door behind him, looking at Niall in the reflection, instead of turning around.
“Hey,” Niall said softly, not moving from his spot by the door. Harry made eye contact with him in the mirror for a moment before dropping his eyes, fiddling with the tiny buttons on his gloves. Niall allowed his eyes to wander for a moment and let them trail down from Harry’s face. He smiled when they reached the floor. Harry had already kicked off his shoes and peeled off his stockings and was standing there in his bare feet. It completely ruined the illusion, but something about seeing Harry’s awkward, bony feet peeking out under yards of lace and brocade made Niall feel better.
“Where’s Maria?” Niall asked, looking around and noticing that she, and all of the other company assistants were missing. Usually at this point they were all flitting around, helping Harry undress and take his makeup off.
“I sent her away for a bit,” Harry said, finally, turning to face Niall. He was still struggling with unfastening his gloves and Niall moved forward, unthinking, to pull Harry’s hand into his.
“Let me help with that,” he said, gently working open each of the pearl buttons that ran from Harry’s wrist to elbow. Only when he began to peel the glove down, revealing inch after inch of skin, did he realize what he’d done. He was touching Harry. His fingers began to tremble, and Harry’s other hand, still gloved, came to rest over his.
“Thank you,” he said softly. “I can get the rest.” And he slowly stripped the gloves off his fingertips before he tossed them onto the chair behind him.
Harry’s eyes were inscrutable when he turned back around, and Niall felt completely lost. Why had he come here? Was Harry even upset? His emotions must have played over his face because Harry sighed a little, and shook his head, the curls of his wig bouncing off his cheeks.
“It’s nothing I haven’t heard before, you know,” he said, beginning to pull pins out of his wig. “I am what I am, a freak who shouldn’t exist. He wasn’t wrong.”
Niall clenched his hands into fists, scowling. “You’re not a freak.” Harry merely shrugged, pulling the wig off his head and setting it onto its stand.
“I’m not a man, either,” he replied.
“Harry—” Niall began, but Harry interrupted him.
“Will you help me out of this dress, please? I told Maria to give me a few minutes, but I don’t want to be in it anymore.”
“Of course,” Niall replied, and Harry spun so that his back was facing Niall. He slowly undid the bodice, fingers trembling as they worked the small buttons through their tight fastenings. He held the gown steady as Harry stepped out of it, and just like the gloves, it ended up tossed onto a chair.
“Maria will hang it up later,” Harry said. “Can you unlace the corset as well?” Niall just nodded.
Once he was out of the corset Harry wrapped himself in a soft silk robe and undid his hair. It tumbled down around his face, the soft curls brushing his bare collarbones. He took a rag and began to scrub at his cheeks, removing the white paint that was smeared all over his face, already patchy in places from sweat. Niall just stood a few steps away, uncertain of whether he should still be there.
“It really doesn’t matter,” Harry said, breaking the silence, “what they yell at me. They’re still here and paying money to see me perform.”
“It doesn’t mean they should say those things, though.” Niall replied. Harry just lifted one shoulder in a shrug, his robe slipping open further to reveal the smooth, luscious skin of his torso.
“I make them uncomfortable. And jealous.”
“Everyone loves your voice, and you were wonderful tonight.”
“I was. Sometimes I think I sing my best when people heckle me.”
“I just don’t like to hear it, the things they say.”
“I’m an angel and a devil, Niall. Not quite a woman, definitely not a man. I’m just a bizarre creature with an incredible voice that they all both adore and despise. Nobody knows what to make of me.”
“No,” Niall said, shaking his head. “You’re just Harry. And I think you’re perfect just as you are.” Harry made a little noise at that, choked off in the back of his throat.
“Niall,” he whispered, green eyes suddenly blazing with a passion and intensity that Niall had never seen before. And somehow, then, they were kissing. Harry’s lips were warm and plush beneath his, and Niall reached up to wind trembling fingers through Harry’s soft curls. The moment stretched on, long and languorous as Harry moved his mouth slightly, parted his lips, and slipped his tongue out to brush against Niall’s. But then it snapped. A rap on the door startled them both, and they broke apart. Niall’s heart was pounding wildly, but when he looked over Harry seemed practically unaffected.
Maria opened the door and poked her head in.
“Excuse me, but the Lady Kendall is here to see you.” Harry straightened, and ran his fingers through his curls, tousling them the way Niall had seen him do a million times in rehearsal.
“Wonderful, Maria. Thank you. Do send her in and give us at least three hours without interruption. You may tend to my costume after we are done.”
The veneer was back, and Niall had to glance away, uncomfortable with how quickly Harry snapped back into his character, into himself.
“If you’ll excuse me, Niall. It seems my evening is suddenly accounted for.” Niall hated the sibilant lilt to Harry’s voice, the smug tone he thought they had moved past.
“Of course. My apologies for keeping you,” he replied, struggling to keep his voice even, inclining his head and moving towards the door.
The lady appeared in the doorway, with a gust of heavy perfume and the rustle of luxurious fabrics. Her dark eyes raked over Harry, in an almost proprietary fashion, before she moved into the room or said anything.
“Harry, it has been far too long,” she said, moving towards him without sparing Niall a glance. A slow smirk was unfurling on Harry’s face, his lips still stained red from his makeup.
“My lady,” he said, catching her hand in his and bringing it up to his mouth. Niall paused to watch, his chest tight as he observed the spectacle. Perhaps sensing he was still there, Harry’s eyes glanced over his companion’s shoulder to where he was standing in the doorway. For a moment Niall thought that he saw something, a flicker of emotion in Harry’s eyes, before it was gone, smothered entirely.
“Do close the door on your way out, maestro,” he said, and Niall crumbled. He closed the door softly and made his way along the hallway, knees shaking as he took the stairs back down to the rehearsal spaces.
Harry was standing in front of his mirror, and his eyes flicked up as Niall shut the door behind him, looking at Niall in the reflection, instead of turning around.
“Hey,” Niall said softly, not moving from his spot by the door. Harry made eye contact with him in the mirror for a moment before dropping his eyes, fiddling with the tiny buttons on his gloves. Niall allowed his eyes to wander for a moment and let them trail down from Harry’s face. He smiled when they reached the floor. Harry had already kicked off his shoes and peeled off his stockings and was standing there in his bare feet. It completely ruined the illusion, but something about seeing Harry’s awkward, bony feet peeking out under yards of lace and brocade made Niall feel better.
“Where’s Maria?” Niall asked, looking around and noticing that she, and all of the other company assistants were missing. Usually at this point they were all flitting around, helping Harry undress and take his makeup off.
“I sent her away for a bit,” Harry said, finally, turning to face Niall. He was still struggling with unfastening his gloves and Niall moved forward, unthinking, to pull Harry’s hand into his.
“Let me help with that,” he said, gently working open each of the pearl buttons that ran from Harry’s wrist to elbow. Only when he began to peel the glove down, revealing inch after inch of skin, did he realize what he’d done. He was touching Harry. His fingers began to tremble, and Harry’s other hand, still gloved, came to rest over his.
“Thank you,” he said softly. “I can get the rest.” And he slowly stripped the gloves off his fingertips before he tossed them onto the chair behind him.
Harry’s eyes were inscrutable when he turned back around, and Niall felt completely lost. Why had he come here? Was Harry even upset? His emotions must have played over his face because Harry sighed a little, and shook his head, the curls of his wig bouncing off his cheeks.
“It’s nothing I haven’t heard before, you know,” he said, beginning to pull pins out of his wig. “I am what I am, a freak who shouldn’t exist. He wasn’t wrong.”
Niall clenched his hands into fists, scowling. “You’re not a freak.” Harry merely shrugged, pulling the wig off his head and setting it onto its stand.
“I’m not a man, either,” he replied.
“Harry—” Niall began, but Harry interrupted him.
“Will you help me out of this dress, please? I told Maria to give me a few minutes, but I don’t want to be in it anymore.”
“Of course,” Niall replied, and Harry spun so that his back was facing Niall. He slowly undid the bodice, fingers trembling as they worked the small buttons through their tight fastenings. He held the gown steady as Harry stepped out of it, and just like the gloves, it ended up tossed onto a chair.
“Maria will hang it up later,” Harry said. “Can you unlace the corset as well?” Niall just nodded.
Once he was out of the corset Harry wrapped himself in a soft silk robe and undid his hair. It tumbled down around his face, the soft curls brushing his bare collarbones. He took a rag and began to scrub at his cheeks, removing the white paint that was smeared all over his face, already patchy in places from sweat. Niall just stood a few steps away, uncertain of whether he should still be there.
“It really doesn’t matter,” Harry said, breaking the silence, “what they yell at me. They’re still here and paying money to see me perform.”
“It doesn’t mean they should say those things, though.” Niall replied. Harry just lifted one shoulder in a shrug, his robe slipping open further to reveal the smooth, luscious skin of his torso.
“I make them uncomfortable. And jealous.”
“Everyone loves your voice, and you were wonderful tonight.”
“I was. Sometimes I think I sing my best when people heckle me.”
“I just don’t like to hear it, the things they say.”
“I’m an angel and a devil, Niall. Not quite a woman, definitely not a man. I’m just a bizarre creature with an incredible voice that they all both adore and despise. Nobody knows what to make of me.”
“No,” Niall said, shaking his head. “You’re just Harry. And I think you’re perfect just as you are.” Harry made a little noise at that, choked off in the back of his throat.
“Niall,” he whispered, green eyes suddenly blazing with a passion and intensity that Niall had never seen before. And somehow, then, they were kissing. Harry’s lips were warm and plush beneath his, and Niall reached up to wind trembling fingers through Harry’s soft curls. The moment stretched on, long and languorous as Harry moved his mouth slightly, parted his lips, and slipped his tongue out to brush against Niall’s. But then it snapped. A rap on the door startled them both, and they broke apart. Niall’s heart was pounding wildly, but when he looked over Harry seemed practically unaffected.
Maria opened the door and poked her head in.
“Excuse me, but the Lady Kendall is here to see you.” Harry straightened, and ran his fingers through his curls, tousling them the way Niall had seen him do a million times in rehearsal.
“Wonderful, Maria. Thank you. Do send her in and give us at least three hours without interruption. You may tend to my costume after we are done.”
The veneer was back, and Niall had to glance away, uncomfortable with how quickly Harry snapped back into his character, into himself.
“If you’ll excuse me, Niall. It seems my evening is suddenly accounted for.” Niall hated the sibilant lilt to Harry’s voice, the smug tone he thought they had moved past.
“Of course. My apologies for keeping you,” he replied, struggling to keep his voice even, inclining his head and moving towards the door.
The lady appeared in the doorway, with a gust of heavy perfume and the rustle of luxurious fabrics. Her dark eyes raked over Harry, in an almost proprietary fashion, before she moved into the room or said anything.
“Harry, it has been far too long,” she said, moving towards him without sparing Niall a glance. A slow smirk was unfurling on Harry’s face, his lips still stained red from his makeup.
“My lady,” he said, catching her hand in his and bringing it up to his mouth. Niall paused to watch, his chest tight as he observed the spectacle. Perhaps sensing he was still there, Harry’s eyes glanced over his companion’s shoulder to where he was standing in the doorway. For a moment Niall thought that he saw something, a flicker of emotion in Harry’s eyes, before it was gone, smothered entirely.
“Do close the door on your way out, maestro,” he said, and Niall crumbled. He closed the door softly and made his way along the hallway, knees shaking as he took the stairs back down to the rehearsal spaces.
