Scream Aloud My Love For You

What for love that becomes known? (Scipio/Prosper)

**i do not own the characters, just the storyline**

Scipio's Love

"It's like I never see him anymore" Scipio sighed as he looked at the food, the way he had for weeks, never eating it, a sympathetic Hornet gently cradling his had in hers over the table. He was dizzy and sick but wouldn't eat. They sat in a corner at a small Patisserie in Venice, canal side. Scipio was having the huffs over Prosper's recent abandonment of the Stella in search of something to do, whilst Scipio was mostly bound up there writing masses and masses of books to be published 'when he could manage it'. He'd promise just to finish a sentence then go out with Prosper and Bo but he'd end up writing a chapter and by the time he'd turned round, hidden his secret glasses and straightened(ish) his hair, his favourite person in the world was long gone, and Hornet would be tapping her foot at him - again.

Scipio liked Hornet, but he didn't like-like her, she was almost motherly to him at points like this one, when he was having writers' depression or something else that he didn't want to think about. Scipio wasn't exactly straight, but he didn't like it, and letting himself lust over Prosper was one way to pass the time he didn't have but he always took up with this amazing activity anyway.

His lust, and almost certain love for Prosper had existed almost since he'd met the boy, running through Venice with his adorable yet grubby smaller brother - Bo. Those blue eyes had fixed on him in confusion and anger and Scipio had their imprint forever locked in that first gaze. Like a tattoo etched in love's eternal flames on his heart. Prosper's anger had only fazed Scipio for a minute, but he had quickly drawn himself out of that, replaced lust heat with cool businesslike smooth talk, comforting, helping, and all the time assessing Prosper, his thick dark shoulder length hair, perfect for curling fingers through, his sweet lips and small nose, his skinny-not-fit physique and the small bump in his trousers where.... Scipio had stiffened slightly there, but continued, sweeping a gaze over Bo, a small, angelic child with blonde fairy hair and little features.

None of this was helping Scipio at the present moment, holding hands with Hornet like average couple 02. He'd zoned out, and she was squashing his fingers between her own, trying to make him come back to her. "Scipio... Scipio..." The call eventually broke through his daydream and she shook him completely awake, shooting him a worried glance from the side. "I'm taking you to hospital" she said firmly, and pulled him up off his chair, dumping the money in a surprised waiter's hand and dragging him out the front, much to the amazement and amusement of some of the people standing outside the front of the restaurant cafe. Hornet shook him again and pulled them a large distance from the front of the cafe where she sat him down on a bench and said "I really am taking you to the hospital you know." He nodded blearily. Hornet manhandled him into the Royal hospital and walked over to the desk stating to the lady "I need someone to look at my friend - I don't think he's had enough food." Scipio tried to stand up but he felt too weak and collapsed back down on the chair again, feeling sorry for himself and wondering what on earth he'd done to end up here of all places.

The doctors room was comfortable place although not exactly homely. It had one of those funny blue bed things that all doctors have and it was very clinical smelling and clinical looking; the walls were white and much of the floor was white where it hadn't been trodden on by muddy boots from the last appointment. The smell was almost entirely of hygiene products, some floral scent thing had been passed over the room but it still smelt unnaturally of cleaning. Scipio perched nervously on the edge of the bed wondering what the doctor was going to say to him, what he was going to prescribe for an all out half anorexic depressed writer with the urge to tell someone that he loved him. Yes, him. Prosper. As soon as the doctor asked what was wrong all the story came pouring out: the way that he felt, the way that he didn't want to do anything but write, the way that he was inclined to feel towards Prosper and lastly the way he wanted Prosper to feel for him. The doctor listened to it all, nodded, told Scipio to eat more, then dismissed him with a crude wave of the hand. No time.

Scipio walked out disappointed. His burning passion was still there in the bottom of his stomach, an ache no doctor could cure. Prosper should be there when he got home, to the Stella, hopefully. He wanted that, the want smouldered, burned. Familiar scenery blurred into hues of vivid red and sunset orange, cool blues like water with sprays of white like a foaming sea. Scipio barely noticed Hornet finding him and giving him her arm, dragging him home and dumping him on a bed, his own hardly slept in affair. He moaned "Prosper" and Hornet stiffened slightly, she still wasn't used to Scipio's sexuality. He didn't think she'd ever get used to it, but his brain was so fried he didn't care at that point.

Prosper scooted in the door. 'Scipio!' His head shouted to him as he ran up the stairs. All he could think about was 'what if he's hurt?' 'What if it's really bad!' 'What if Hornet and him hook up because I leave all the time and... and..' He breathed a sigh of relief as he rounded the last stair corner and flung himself to the bedside. He took Scipio's had gently in his own and caressed it, feeling the warmth of it against his skin, the tingles of love flowing up his arm and down his chest.

Scipio felt Prosper touch him like an out-of-body experience. It burned like ice fresh out of the freezer and onto the skin. It aroused his senses and woke him up from his stupor. If Prosper didn't feel this, he wondered what the boy was made of, steel perhaps.

Prosper blushed red as Scipio opened his eyes, those melted chocolate pots that never seemed to stop moving and changing, from glittering jet when he was angry, to melted cocoa when he smiled. Scipio was looking at him in a strange way, which was almost readable but not. Prosper dared not think it was love, for the Thief Lord would never think of him in that way. As long as Prosper was close to him, he would be fine, and that would be good enough for him. He'd stay single, maybe work for Scipio when he grew up. Always in the presence of the older boy. Always within viewing distance, to see the beautiful curling hair, shoulder length, his rounded cheekbones, so defined, but soft and mellow when he smiled, and his lips! Gosh, Prosper would kiss them all night if Scipio would let him.