Jason

For a moment, he thought he'd forgotten how to breathe.

How many fantasies had started with Gideon knocking on his door? And now it was happening, and he had to fight the urge to pinch himself because he couldn't quite believe it was real.

Maybe he'd fallen asleep and this was just some beautiful dream.

"Hello," Gideon said, shifting his weight.

He couldn't quite meet Jason's eyes, and that more than anything told Jason this was reality. In his dreams, Gideon never hesitated to look him in the eye.

"Hi," Jason said.

A moment passed when no one spoke.

"Can I help you?" Jason asked, wondering if Gideon would just stay silent forever.

Gideon squared his shoulders, as if gearing up for something. "I hope so."

Another moment passed, and the awkwardness of it made Jason want to giggle. He suppressed it.

"Okay, if you need my help, you need to tell me what with. I can't read your mind," he said.

He wished he could, though. Gideon was an enigma, a code that he'd love nothing more than to crack.

"I would like you to teach me about the modern world," Gideon said.

Jason blinked at him. Had he heard that right? Obviously, Gideon hadn't come here for any of the sexyfuntime Jason dreamed about, but this? Nope, he hadn't seen that coming.

"Okaaaaay," he said. "Can I ask why?"

Like most vampires, Gideon had always seemed happy to live in a little bubble, cut off from the changing world outside, and even though he'd just sat through a very long meeting on all the ways vampires needed to adapt to the modern world, Jason hadn't expected this.

"Because we might not have the protection of this House much longer, and if that happens, I want to understand the world I'll be going back into," Gideon said.

Jason had the sudden urge to hug him, and not just because he fancied the pants off him. Gideon had been around for longer than Jason knew, but in that moment he just looked...lost.

"Come in," he said, standing to one side.

After an awkward pause, Gideon walked into the room.

"First things first," Jason said, shutting the door. "You are not going to lose Belle Morte."

Gideon turned bleak eyes on him. "You don't know that."

"Okay, no, I don't, but –"

"Please don't," Gideon interjected. "I know that you're trying to be comforting, but that isn't what I need now. I need to be prepared."

Jason shut his mouth. He wanted to wipe away the bleak look in Gideon's eyes, but empty platitudes wouldn't do that. Gideon was right – Jason couldn't say that the Houses wouldn't be taken away. No one could, because no one knew.

Suddenly, it was his turn to feel awkward.

Gideon Hartwright was here, in his room, and Jason didn't have a clue what to say to him.

"Um . . . you know that Renie and Roux are teaching the others about the modern world, don't you?" he said.

As far as he was aware, Ludovic was the only one who'd shown any sign of progress, but there was plenty of time for the others to learn.

Gideon finally looked at Jason properly, and there was the faintest hit of amusement in his eyes.

"Renie and Roux have both been a little preoccupied lately," he said.

This time, Jason couldn't stop a small laugh from escaping. "Yeah, I had noticed."

"Besides," Gideon said, "you're the one who's been tracking the tide of public opinion. I need to understand more of this, but I'm afraid of how negative it will be. Renie and Roux have been through more than enough lately, and I don't want to expose them to any more unnecessary ugliness. They deserve some time to just be happy."

Jason's heart thumped.

Once, at a Belle Morte ball – it seemed like years ago now – he had warned Renie not to fall for Edmond, not to fall for any vampire. Legally, vampires couldn't have relationships with humans, and even if they could, those relationships would only end badly. Vampires lived forever. Humans didn't.

But he couldn't ignore the way he felt when he looked at Gideon. He was like the sun coming out on a cloudy day, just as bright and beautiful every time.

And despite everything he'd said to Renie that time, he couldn't ignore the hot spark of hope in his chest that Gideon had chosen to come here, to him.

"So will you teach me?" Gideon asked.

Really, there was only one answer.

"Of course," Jason said.

He started with the obvious thing – his phone.

If anything happened to the Houses, then vampires would need to be able to contact each other. That meant they needed to know how to use modern phones.

"But how would we get them?" Gideon asked, when Jason told him this.

"You walk into a shop and buy one."

"But if the world turns against us and everyone knows what we look like, we won't be able to walk into shops, will we?"

He had a point. If humans hated vampires enough to throw them out of their own Houses, they were hardly going to set up phone contracts with them.

"You'll have to rely on human friends to do it for you," Jason said.

"Assuming we have any," Gideon muttered.

Jason nudged him. "You've got me."

"In case you'd forgotten, you're rather recognisable yourself these days."

Jason hadn't thought of that either. If vampires ended up on the streets, there were a lot of people out there who'd gladly hunt them down. Jason was a known donor – the only one still living in an English vampire House. If vampires were evicted, and people took advantage of that to hunt them down, then was Jason any safer?

"Let's just . . . cross that bridge when we come to it," he said.

He walked Gideon through the basics of the phone, trying to stay as calm and collected as he could, and not completely freak out over the fact that Gideon was in his room, sitting on his bed.

"So I can contact anyone, anywhere in the world?" Gideon said.

"As long as you've got their number. And reception. You need that too."

"Fascinating." Gideon turned the phone over in his hand, marvelling at it. "They're so small."

"They used to be smaller. Originally they were great big bricks, and then the fashion was for teeny tiny flip-phones, and now we've got these."

"And everyone has one?"

"Well, not everyone, but most people, yeah."

"I see."

Gideon bent over the phone, practising unlocking it, like Jason had taught him.

Jason stole a moment to appreciate his profile. Gideon's hair was a darker blond than Ludovic's or Ysanne's, like honey under sunlight, and Jason ached to run his hands through it. Preferably while kissing. The way that honey-coloured hair curled into the nape of Gideon's neck, the shape of his Adam's apple interrupting the smooth line of his throat, the golden brushstrokes of his eyebrows, it all made Jason feel warm inside.

What was it about Gideon that affected him like this? It wasn't just the hair, or the eyes, or the strong jaw, or the straight, solid line of his shoulders. When Jason looked at him, he felt like he'd found something very special, and he couldn't explain it. He barely knew Gideon. He had no idea if he was special or not, but it felt like he was, and Jason couldn't ignore that.

Gideon lifted his head, and Jason quickly pretended he'd been looking at the phone all along.

"What's this?" Gideon asked, tilting the phone towards him.

"That's Twitter," Jason said. "You must have tapped the icon by mistake."

He tried to take the phone, but Gideon lifted it out of arm's reach, his eyes narrowing as he read the screen.

Jason's stomach sank.

This wasn't something Gideon needed to be exposed to. It was bad enough he had to listen to the protestors, day in and day out – he didn't need to see all the vitriol people spewed from behind the safety of a computer screen.

"You don't need to read that," he said.

"I think I do," said Gideon in a strange voice.

After a few minutes, he lowered the phone into his lap. His forehead was furrowed, his eyebrows pulled down in a troubled V.

"So that's what people really think of us," he said.

Jason took the phone and quickly scrolled through his feed. Ouch.

"This is just Twitter, it doesn't mean anything," he said hurriedly.

"There are people calling for us to be burned alive. They are calling for us to be chained out in the sun or staked through the heart," said Gideon flatly.

Jason chucked the phone onto the bed behind him. "Listen," he said. "People say a lot of disgusting shit online. They get to be anonymous and that brings out their worst side. This isn't only about vampires. There are always people being downright vile on platforms like this because they know they can get away with it. That doesn't mean anyone agrees with them."

"Except people obviously do or there wouldn't be so many saying it."

"Not everyone in the country is on Twitter. Not everyone in the country agrees with that stuff. What you read on there is not reflective of the entire human race."

"They said we were all as bad as DeSanti," Gideon said, still in that flat voice.

"Wait, what?" Jason had missed that part, and it sparked a wave of anger.

Gideon looked at him, his grey eyes unbearably sad. "DeSanti killed and turned those children, but it seems that people think we are just as bad for keeping the children here at Belle Morte."

"Where the hell else are they supposed to go?" Jason struggled to keep his voice calm. This was a lot harder on Gideon than it was on him.

Gideon said nothing.

"You can't believe that shit. The people saying all vampires are as bad as DeSanti are the same people calling for all vampires to be executed. And then they wonder why we can't send those kids home," Jason said.

"But they can't stay forever," Gideon said. "Can they?"

He was still looking directly at Jason, his eyes the colour of rainclouds.

"I don't know," Jason admitted. "We can't make any decisions about their future until we know what's going to happen to Belle Morte and the other Houses. We have to get over that hurdle before we can tackle anything else."

Gideon slowly nodded.

The nine kids that DeSanti had turned into vampires were currently living in Belle Morte's north wing, so Jason had barely seen them since they'd been brought to the mansion. Isabeau was in charge of taking care of them, and though Jason had offered to help, Ysanne had decided that having a human around young, unpredictable vampires wasn't a good idea.

The kids couldn't go home because they were vampires. Their homes hadn't been vampire-proofed. They had no supply of blood. They hadn't learned to harness the incredible strength they suddenly had, which meant they were a danger to their friends and families. They had suffered a terrible trauma, and they were still working their way through it. Sending them home would make them targets for the hate groups currently popping up all over the place. It wasn't safe for them. Belle Morte was protecting them in the only way it could.

"This is the world they have to face now," Gideon said, indicating the phone.

Jason bit his lip. It had been hard enough for the kids to accept what had happened to them, and they hadn't been included in today's meeting because the adults didn't want them to know how precarious their situation was, but sooner or later, they would have to face a world in which they might no longer be welcome.

"Then it's a good thing they're not alone," Jason said.

"Do you think that makes it any better?"

"Better? No. Easier? Maybe. When it feels like the whole world's against you, then having friends stand with you is incredibly important. Don't ever underestimate that."

Gideon studied Jason. "You sound like you're speaking from experience."

Jason offered a faint smile. "I'm gay, Gideon. Things have got so much better for people like us, but I've still dealt with my share of dickheads." 

Gideon lowered his grey gaze. "And that does that ever get easier?" he asked.

Did he have similar experience? Jason ached to know, but sometimes Gideon seemed like a skittish animal around him. Jason was afraid that if he pushed too soon, Gideon would back off.

"That's a difficult question to answer," he said at last. "I'm not ashamed of who I am. There's nothing wrong with me, no matter what people say. But that doesn't mean their words don't hurt. I can tell myself to ignore them, but I'm not made of steel. Sometimes, their shit does get in, and when it does, it really hurts."

"Have you ever pretended you weren't gay? To avoid people like that?" Gideon was looking at his hands again, clenched tightly in his lap.

Jason felt like something was forming between them, some fragile line of trust. He wanted to wrap it up and preserve it.

"Never," he said. "I shouldn't have to pretend, and so I've always refused to."

Gideon looked like he was about to say something else, but then he pressed his lips tightly together. Jason wanted to urge him to speak, to tell him that he could say whatever was on his mind, but he sensed that their line of trust wasn't strong enough yet. Gideon needed more time.

"I should go," Gideon said, abruptly standing up.

Disappointment coursed through Jason's chest. Gideon had been here barely half an hour, but those minutes felt precious. Jason wasn't ready to let them go. But he couldn't make him stay.

"Okay," he mumbled, getting up too.

It felt faintly ridiculous to walk Gideon to the door when they both lived in the same house, but Jason did it anyway.

At the door, Gideon paused. "Thank you," he said.

"You're welcome."

"Can we do this again?" Gideon asked.

Jason's brain almost short-circuited before he realised what Gideon was actually asking – whether or not Jason would continue to help him adapt to the modern world.

"It's not like I've got much else to do," he said, smiling.

Gideon's gaze drifted to his lips, and Jason was sure the world stopped turning, just for a moment.

Nobody moved, and then, just when Jason was sure Gideon would lean forward, the vampire broke eye contact and reached for the door handle.

"I'll see you next time," he said, and walked out.

Jason shut the door and leaned his head on it, breathing deeply. He couldn't have imagined that. Gideon had looked at him like he wanted to kiss him, and that had been real.

Something had happened in this room, and Jason wasn't quite sure what it was, but it felt like a beginning.