Closed Vicarious

Vivian Brackenstall

Vivian Brackenstall

📜poet | quiet | tall | flirty📜 indie musician
 
Messages
397
OOC First Name
Rowan
Blood Status
Mixed Blood
Relationship Status
Seeing Somebody
Sexual Orientation
Tristan) (Gay
Wand
Curly 12 Inch Rigid Hawthorn Wand with Hippogriff Feather Core
Age
7/2031 (32)
The older Vivian got, the more time seemed to slide by almost without him noticing. Novelty became routine, big changes became small ones, became normal. He felt as though he had blinked as an aimless twenty year old musician and woken up a settled thirty year old man, with a home, a long term relationship (with Tristan, of all people) and a stepson. And he was surprised how much he liked it. His early twenties had been a nihilistic, hopeless time, when Vivian couldn't really see any kind of peace in his future. He would tour to half-empty halls forever, never any kind of place of his own; never wanted. But here he was, after all this time, both somehow in the place he had least expected to wind up, and the place he was most at home.

Mason was somehow the least expected element of his entire situation. Vivian had never planned to be a father, and was perpetually surprised by how much he liked it. It helped that Mason was an easy kid - none of the wild behaviours he had seen from his sisters when they were his age. He was polite and well spoken, and extremely clever for his age, evident in his choice of bedtime stories. As he reached the end of tonight's chapter of The Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe, Vivian set the book on the bedside table and gently smoothed out Mason's blankets. "Alright, time to sleep now. We'll carry on tomorrow." He said with a warm smile, quietly thinking just how lucky he was.
 
Mason always liked staying with his dad and Vivian, though he also loved his mum and liked staying with her too. They were just very different houses with different rules, and it sometimes took Mason a bit of time to get used to the place he was. He knew his mum liked it best when he danced along with her to music and sang along as well, she would always smile and say he did so well and that he should be on a stage. Meanwhile dad always liked it best when Mason was showing him how much he knew, he had been very happy today when they were doing sums and reading. But Mason liked most of all that Vivian always seemed to like him equally, no matter what he did. Still, he couldn't resist showing off a little.

"Vivian, guess what? I can read now too, a little. I showed dad, did you hear?" He asked with a smile. His dad had gotten him a simple book to read about a cat, and Mason had read in it. C A T was an easy word and it was in the book a lot. He had liked how proud dad had looked whenever he had read it correctly. "Maybe I can read this one soon." He said with a grin as he looked at the book, mostly because he knew it had a lot of more difficult words that he couldn't read yet. But one day he would, and then he'd make his dad even more proud.
 
Mason's words halted Vivian in the middle of getting up, looking down at his stepson in surprise. "Really?" He asked with a proud smile. "That's very impressive, you must have practiced lots." His eyes flicked over Mason's face, wondering when he had grown up so much. "I bet you won't need me for bedtime stories at all soon." It felt like yesterday he had been an infant in a pram, a surreal signifier of how much Tristan had changed without him, and now here he was; that infant had at some point been replaced by a growing boy, milestones like walking replaced by milestones like reading. He felt like at some point he would blink, and they would be dropping Mason off for his first day of Hogwarts.
 
Mason felt a sense of pride at Vivian's reaction. His dad had already been proud of him about this, but making Vivian proud too was even better. He nodded as he said he must have practiced lots. "Lots." He confirmed. "I knew it would make dad happy." He added, yawning as he started to feel a little sleepy. He frowned a little as Vivian said he wouldn't need him for bedtime stories soon, shaking his head. "I always want yours, you do the best voices." He said. "So don't stop, okay?"
 
The light in Mason's face was something so rare and precious it made Vivian's heart ache, the knowledge that he would never be this young and sweet again; that these days were finite, and one day Mason wouldn't need either of them for this. It was as though the boy had read his mind, and Vivian couldn't hold in a small fond laugh. "You can have my bedtime stories for as long as you like." He said gently, glad not have been replaced just yet. "I'm sure your dad is very proud of you..." He added, stroking a few soft hairs away from Mason's eyes as he saw the boy settling in more.
 
Mason nestled himself a bit more comfortably in the bed, a big yawn overtaking him. He was sleepier than he wanted to be, he didn't want Vivian to go yet. "He's proud when I learn new things." He murmured, reaching for Vivian's hand so he couldn't leave yet, grabbing hold of his sleeve as he surpressed another yawn. "I wanna be clever so dad likes me and is happy." He mumbled quietly.
 
Vivian felt a burst of ice through his veins when Mason spoke, the implications chilling. "Your dad will always love you." He said softly, taking Mason's hand and stroking the back softly. "You don't have to be anything special to make him happy, you just have to be you." As he spoke his mind raced, trying to put together the pieces of how Mason had gotten this impression. Tristan had always been a good father in Vivian's eyes, but he knew all too well how his partner had been as a young man, and he wondered why he had never thought before about how that may seep over into Mason.
 
Mason was dozing off quickly, and while he did hear Vivian's words, he wasn't awake enough to react to them or really let them sink in. His eyelids fluttered as he dozed off, his hand dropping down onto the bedsheets as he let go of Vivian's sleeve. He mumbled something sleepily, then started breathing deeply.
 
Vivian couldn't bring himself to go downstairs just yet, allowing Mason's calm sleeping breaths to soothe him before doing anything. He gently tucked his stepson's hand in before he left the room, heading for where he had last seen Tristan in the dining room. "Tristan?"
 
Tristan was humming softly to himself as he gathered all the things he and Mason had worked on today and put stickers on them. He loved Mason no matter what, but it was so fun to see him learn and absorb new things. He knew Hogwarts was a long way off, but he already couldn't wait to see how well he would do there. He'd be a top student, Tristan was sure. He turned to Vivian with a smile. "Vivian, look at what Mason did." He said excitedly. "I wonder if they may not be challenging him enough at daycare, maybe I should talk to them." He mused.
 
The sight of Tristan hunched over piles of homework flashed Vivian back to their school years for a brief, jarring moment. The memories of school he tended to dwell on were the painful ones; the ones where their relationship had been slowly crushing him day by day, or the ones where he finally cracked. Amidst all the drama it was easy to forget the more mundane moments of their lives, but this was a sight Vivian had seen more times than he could count. Tristan hunched over books and papers, building himself a tower of self-worth made of grades and dates and cruel bravado. It was a side of Tristan he hadn't seen in a long time, not really, and there was a small, cold horror in the realisation that Mason was seeing it too, even if he didn't understand yet. "I actually wanted to talk about that." He said, keeping his tone measured as he took a seat next to Tristan and put a hand on the parchments, blocking them from view to get Tristan's full focus. "Mason just said something really worrying as I was putting him to bed. I don't think all this schoolwork is good for him."
 
Tristan had been oblivious to Vivian's mood, floating in a happy haze of pride, but something in Vivian's tone made him pay attention. He looked up and frowned a little at the expression on his face. It made him uneasy. It was the expression Vivian had when they needed to have a serious conversation, when he had to tell Tristan something he knew he didn't want to hear. Despite himself, Tristan felt his defenses go up immediately. "What? We're not doing much." He said as Vivian spoke about the school work. "And he enjoys it, it's just simple stuff... things he's learning at daycare anyway." He said, a touch of defensiveness in his tone.
 
Vivian sighed softly, watching the familiar defensive walls slam shut behind Tristan's eyes. It was another expression he knew well, one that would have had him giving up and walking away entirely when he was younger. But they had been through so much, changed so much, and he knew far better how to handle the other man now. "It's affecting how he thinks you see him." He said gently, not wanting to escalate. Yet. "He just told me he wants to be clever so that you'll love him." Vivian stopped there and let the words hang, hoping Tristan would see just how dangerous they were.
 
Tristan's worst instincts were always the easiest to push down, but they were still there in the back of his mind. A part of him wanted to shut down the conversation as fast as he could by saying something hurtful, but he stopped himself. Vivian was being gentle, and he knew that his partner was often right about things. But this... this was just a misunderstanding. Tristan shook his head firmly. "He didn't mean it like that, he didn't." He said, pushing down the feeling of panic Vivian's words made him feel. Kids said things weirdly all the time. "He knows I love him no matter what."
 
Vivian sighed softly and reached out, gently lacing his fingers with Tristan's. "On one level he does, but somewhere down there..." He shook his head slightly. "I'm worried. He seemed so sincere, I think he's internalised a lot of expectations at some point. I think he just... needs more time with you that doesn't focus on schoolwork. Just to be reminded that you love him, no matter what."
 
Tristan shook his head, pulling his hand away from Vivian's soothing touch. "We do plenty that doesn't focus on school." He said, clearly frustrated. "Fine, I can do a bit more. But I'm not going to stop him from learning when he wants to." He said, straightening the stack of paper on the table. "I'm not the one putting expectations on him, if anything it's his mother who pressures him." He said, putting his hands down on the table. "She made him enroll in this theater group I'm convinced he hates, though he doesn't admit it even to me."
 
Vivian tensed slightly when Tristan moved away from him, fighting back the urge to snap. So much for the hope that this might go easily. "If he thinks you only love him when he's studying, how can you tell when he's actually learning because he wants to." He pointed out. Vivian couldn't hold back another sigh when Tristan inevitably brought up Mason's mother. "I don't doubt Dominique is a factor." He said, not bothering to hide his disgust when he said her name. "But Mason is seeing it in you too. Whatever you're actually doing, whatever you're intending, I'm just telling you what he sees. What he feels."
 
Tristan knew he should probably step away, calm down before snapping at Vivian. But it was hard when they were talking about his son, and when Vivian was accusing him of making him feel unloved. He got to his feet and threw his hands up in frustration. "He does not think I only love him when he's studying, Vivian. I let him know- I show him every day. How could you think that?" He asked, his voice rising in his frustration. "You're not telling me what he sees and what he feels, you're telling me your interpretation of one thing he said and probably didn't word right. You're jumping to conclusions."
 
Vivian rubbed his temple, taking a slow breath. He had been much better at bottling things up when he was younger, albeit for the worse. Now, though... it was hard to keep his temper enough to keep the discussion productive. "I'm not accusing you of anything." He said, mindful to keep his voice down - the last thing Mason needed was to wake up to this. "I'm warning you that this is something he's feeling, so that we can nip it in the bud."
 
Tristan let out a small, derisive laugh when Vivian said he wasn't accusing him of anything. He couldn't help it. Deep down, very deep down, an ugly feeling was boiling. One that he knew was unfair but one that showed i's head every time he saw how well Vivian and Mason got along and how alike they were in some ways. It always came paired with a love and fondness that overshadowed it, but Tristan couldn't deny it was sometimes difficult. "Oh, no. You're accusing me, Vivian. But thanks for trying to word it in a nicer way." He said, a brittle smile in place. "Don't worry, you don't have to do anything. It's not you who is making him feel unloved unless he's learning his letters, is it?" He said sarcastically.
 
Vivian had thought for a long time that he was over this feeling. He had spent years on his own - had built his own life, his own career, and then had re-entered this relationship by his own choice. And he had done so because he was certain that the command and control Tristan had held over his feelings in their teen years was long-broken; that he knew he could stand on his own two feet, and Tristan wouldn't have any power to make him feel small anymore. But here it was; the shields of ice he had built around the boy Tristan had once owned so completely were melting, and it hurt. He couldn't even bring himself to respond for a moment, the years-buried instinct to go silent and kowtow rearing its ugly head. But that wasn't him anymore, that wasn't them, and it wasn't a door Vivian was ever willing to open again. "I'm not going to be talked to that way." He said coldly, voice flat and even. He got to his feet, feeling the same dreamlike state he had felt so long ago, in the months before everything fell apart. "I'll be in my studio when you're ready to stop trying to punish me for your problems." Vivian turned on his heel, doing everything he could to keep his breathing level as he headed towards his generously named "studio" - a closet barely big enough for his piano.
 
Tristan watched Vivian go and knew he'd feel terrible once the boiling anger went away. He grabbed himself a drink, then headed to his office where he would find some work to distract himself from how bad he was about to feel.

- timeskip of around an hour -​

After trying (and failing) to lose himself in his work, and with his anger completely simmered down, Tristan sighed as he leaned back in his chair, rubbing his hand over his face. He got up, moved out of his office and headed to Vivian's studio after a quick stop in the kitchen. He knocked on the door. "Vivian?" He asked softly, half expecting him to turn him away.
 
Vivian was beyond glad that his studio was heavily magically soundproofed. At first he didn't do more than run his hands over the keys; a light sprinkling of random arpeggios dotted up and down the scales as he collected himself. It was after that that the anger struck, and he smashed his hands down on the keyboard a few times, loud, violent smashes of noise working through the worst of it. As the spike subsided his hands slowly melted into more familiar tunes; albeit roughly bashed out versions. He played through some of his angrier early music, the stuff he hadn't trotted out in a very long time. This was what those years had all been about - processing his relationship with Tristan through song, so that he could move past this feeling. But here he was, playing the same old songs like nothing had happened.

The knock on the door wasn't unexpected, but Vivian didn't think he was entirely ready for it yet. He took a moment to brace himself before reaching out, the room small enough that he could open the door with one hand while still playing with the other. "Yes?" He said hollowly, eyes never leaving the keyboard.
 
Tristan cleared his throat, feeling uncertain. At least he'd answered, that was promising. "Can we talk? I made you tea." He said, wondering if he should have said those things in the opposite order. "I want to say sorry. I was out of line." He added, wincing slightly. Even now, he found it hard to admit he was wrong.
 
Vivian's fingers stuttered on the keys and finally fell still when Tristan acknowledged he was wrong. He sighed heavily and finally looked up at his partner, accepting the cup of tea. "Yes, you were." He said quietly, waiting for Tristan to go on.
 
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