for Essek (lacrymaperle) - vampire/werewolf au

[ausgebrannt]

[There had been a simpler time, several years before when Bren hadn't yet known Trent Ikithon, a time when he was thoroughly and blissfully unaware of the things that existed in the dark, when the ideas of werewolves and vampires and other creatures that ought to have been nothing more than fairy tale fodder. Instead, his paths had crossed with Trent and everything had changed. He'd been thrown into a small walled courtyard one night, under the light of a full moon, and he had not been alone. That was the first time he had met a werewolf. Bren remembered the bite, still had the scar of it on one forearm, remembered the confusion and the terror -- both of which were nothing compared to the full moon that followed the month after, the first time he'd transformed. He remembered the pain of his entire body breaking and reshaping itself, the fear of losing himself entirely. He'd blacked out that night, woken up naked and aching as if he'd been run over by a bus.

It had been the same very moon since, except that piece by piece, bit by bit, he held onto some small shred of himself during the transformation. Trent Ikithon had explained that all this was for Bren's own good, that he was safer here than anywhere else. that there were vampires who would tear him apart on sight, one in particular, a singular monster who Trent seemed to have a personal loathing for. Bren tried to probe why any vampire, never mind a particular one, would have any interest in him. No explanation was ever given except that 'the Shadowhand will never have you. Not in this life or the next. I will see to that.'

Bren had no idea what that meant. Before all this, the only strange thing in his life were recurring dreams -- and oh they were beautiful things. Arms that were secure and safe around him, tender and gentle but not warm. The soft lilt of a voice that assured him everything would be well, that wherever he went he would be found again. Trent had hated the dreams and had done his best to cast them out of Bren's conscious awareness. Now they were barely shadows, things he could remember the feeling of more than the details. It hurt even trying to recall them, so he didn't.

This past moon Bren had made his escape after he transformed, finally aware enough of himself that he had his chance. He was free. That was the only thought in his mind right now and it repeated in echoed mantra over and over again as he tried to keep himself from spiraling into a breakdown. It had been years since he'd been out, actually out in the world, not kept with Trent Ikithon's control, trapped within the grounds of that monster's manor. He was, after all, Trent's pet project, for whatever reasons the old bastard had. It didn't matter. Back in that direction lay only pain and isolation. He wouldn't go back.

Of course, he didn't really have a plan to go forward either, really. Even before he'd been captured and turned, he hadn't had any family left, few friends, and he'd been out of the world for years now. He managed to steal find some clothes, ill-fitting, a coat that was too big on his underfed frame, a scarf wrapped about his neck. He was a mess, long copper hair in tangles past his shoulders, his beard untrimmed, a frantic fear in wide blue eyes as he tried to find somewhere to hide, somewhere to get his bearings. He couldn't let Trent find him again. This was freedom, and he would not give it up.

A soft meow caught his attention, and he looked up in surprise as a small orange tabby approached him. For the first time in a long while, Bren smiled.] Hello there... [The little creature sniffed his outstretched hand and headbutted his fingers. It was the first kind touch that he'd known in so long, he almost teared up over it.] Well, at least I am not alone anymore. That's comforting.

[Now if he could just figure out what the hell he was going to do, where he was going to go.]

Comments

[zauberdecke]

[ The Shadowhand had successfully built an Empire within Rosohna. With limitless years before him, why would he not? Oh, he was not not of Den Kryn, the highest of Vampire Houses, but Den Thelyss had finally ceeded to him after a century of working tirelessly. He had accomplished more, it seemed in one century, than most vampires did in five and he had been lauded for it; certainly his sire had been proud of him; proud enough that he had stepped down and allowed the ruling of the Den in Essek's capable hand. He buried himself in work to forget, with a heightened fervor that put the angels to shame.

His empire, part magic and part fashion. Within the interwoven links of Vampires throughout the world, he was known for his cabal brilliance and his knowledge of the arcane; the Shadowhand. Within the human world however he was known for several boutiques that he owned in the various cities of the world. There was Thelyss Designs, every single city had such a place; but then every single city had a unique residence that he owned though his main point of operation had ever been Rosohna.

All of these things kept him occupied, kept his mind from wandering from what he had loved.. and inevitably lost. But also there was a deeper meaning that he kept ties and bindings with each city. It was because if there was even a spark or an inclination of a familiar return into the fold, he wanted to be there. His gaze was intent and unsettling because he was searching for something within gazes, something he'd never found-- a hint of blue, not just any blue but a specific shade, and behind it a mote of possibility; gods he wanted to find it-- and each time was a bitter disappointment. And each year brought that disappointment and bitterness further and deeper inside of him.

It was late one evening and he was out riding, he'd watched as Frumpkin had unwound himself from his shoulders and disappeared in a puff of fey smoke the scent of hearth. Frumpkin had been his only tie to the past and they had a partnership that was.. a mutual mourning. His lover's familiar who'd formed a pact with him, it had been a necessity else the grief kill him. It had been Frumpkin whom had kept him from laying himself out for the sun to kiss him with the same fire that his lover had and he was grateful, however Frumpkin did have a tendancy of disappearing from time to time and thus he was used to it.

The scent of hearth that assaulted his nose meant that Frumpkin had not gone far, and thus he steered his horse in the direction though he for the most part remained silent save for the subtle sound of hoofs against woodland floor. Coupled with hearth was the fragrance of petrichor, the way that rain transformed mud and moss into something alluring. He lightly called out. ]

Frumpkin...

[ It was a calling out that would be heard, and as Bren pet the cat with gloved fingers, the cat would let out a little mrrp of acknowledgement, as if that was indeed his name that he heard in the distance, but he was not in any way shape or form inclined to leave and it was rather clear by the fact that the cat's paw caught the edge of scarf and used that as leverage, a propelling upward until he found purchase against a shoulder. This cat was light as air and smelled of cinnamon cloves and fire, a warm spicy scent-- and he felt warmer than most animals, as if he was made of flames.

The tabby then continued to bunt lightly against a jawline, claiming in a way that only a cat could do so. ]

[ausgebrannt]

[Bren was distracted with his new found friend, the first beginnings of a smile starting over his face -- though it felt strange, as if those muscles had been so unused these past few years that they had begun to atrophy. Being out, being free was overwhelming in a way, the world so big without stone walls and locked doors around him. He was somewhere between exhilaration and terror, though stronger than any of those was the determination not to be going back to Trent's clutches. Ever again.

So the sound of a voice sent a jolt of fear through him. The cat climbing up to his shoulder soothed that slightly. It was an oddly familiar feeling, and Bren moved to stand, supporting this strange, warm cat as he did. He forced himself to take a breath. None of Ikithon's people would be out here looking for a cat.]

Frumpkin? Is that you?

[A quiet murmur as if he half expected the feline to answer. He hesitated though. He hesitated though, not sure if he should try to flee or hide from the approaching voice. Now he could hear the sounds of a horse. If he can he could be run down easily.

By the time Essek came into view, he'd find a gaunt, wide-eyed man, looking both hunted and haunted, dark circles that somehow served to make eyes even bright blue than their usual. He was still exhausted from the full moon the night before. No, he couldn't run, and so he froze, eventually managing to find his voice a moment later.]

Is... is this your cat?

[zauberdecke]

[ Essek had his hunting grounds and this was not one of them. He tended to poach in clubs and bars where he could charm those with his beauty, where a simple human would not be missed, and when they returned-- it would be paler but none-the-worse for wear. He had a weakness for redheaded men with blue eyes, though they never were who he was looking for and so he took sustenance and moved on, just a nibble here and there. So the hooves of the steed did not speed up in the slightest, rather effecting a leisurely pace as he moved into the clearing.

And then he saw Frumpkin, that permanent aura glow about him, tail twitching and rubbing up against.. a dirty excuse of a? Essek did not know what to call it. The man looked utterly downtrodden, certainly not worth his time in hunting, hair that was dull against the light of the newly waning moon. And a beard that seen better days.

Essek could not control Frumpkin or the decisions that he made, nor did he want to be the keeper of a cat, not really. They had an acceptable arrangement betwixt them, a live and let live-- and if Frumpkin choose to hang around with-- a hobo? Well that was on Frumpkin. ]

In a manner of speaking, yes-- though are cats ever truly owned?

[ He looked down at the other man and then lightly rested his reigns against his lap where he had chosen to sit side-saddle this evening, it depended on the outfit he was wearing-- and today it was pants tight enough that riding astride would likely not be the best idea, nor very comfortable. ]

You have encroached upon my property, however you may thank Frumpkin for his largesse and mercy.

[ And Frumpkin licked at Bren's ear, as if grooming the man, that ear quickly turned into the edge of a beard and Essek made a very distinct face at that ]

[ausgebrannt]

[The tension in Bren's posture didn't change all that much, though the worst edge of it eased slightly when it became clear that this man was clearly not one of Trent's people. There was an air of elegance about him that no one in Trent's employ could even hope to mimic never mind achieve. That voice though, it was liltingly soothing and familiar, like something from a dream, but when Bren tried to remember there was only that conditioned pain and he immediately winced and thought better of it.

Instead he gave the cat what he expected to be a final pet before trying to remove him to set him back towards the man on horseback. Frumpkin however had decided he was not leaving. Not good. He didn't want this man to think that he was stealing his cat. Bren gave a quick, furtive look around at where he was.]

I'm sorry, I did not know. I am... a bit lost. [More than a bit. He had no idea where he was. He was as far as the wolf could go the night before and as far as the human could manage once he'd recovered enough to move on his own two legs once more.]

But then... Danke Herr Frumpkin.

[Hesitantly, he stepped closer to the man on horseback, looking up at him curiously, that lingering fear draped over him like weighted chains, looking for all the world like a frightened creature that would flee at the slightest noise or sudden movement.] Which is the way to the nearest town? I will stop encroaching on your property. And on your cat.

[zauberdecke]

[ This was.. highly regrettable. It seemed that Frumpkin had taken a liking to this man who stood there in a veneer of awkwardness and fear, oh gods-- he could smell the fear as if it was a charnel house 5 days without proper ventilation; in fact it appeared that this man similarly lacked ventilation if the scent could be believed.

Thankfully, Essek did not have to breathe. ]

If you wish to to go home with him Frumpkin, you may.. I am not your keeper.

[ The man stepped closer, the moon passed fleetingly from behind the cloud cover and casting this man in a single ray of light-- and hit those eyes just right, refracted prisms over sea and he paused. For a moment he was uncertain. It had been a century or two, but there was something familiar about him and in the way that the moonlight clung to him as if it loved him.

And thereby Essek was not entirely certain but there was a faint catch in his heart.

He had to known though.

Gracefully and silently he alighted from the horse, the other side. Giving the steed a light pat on the cheek before he stepped forward with measured footsteps. He had to know, and it really spoke to how well he managed to keep composure about him; there was no emotion that passed over his face as he very carefully approached. He did not want to scare this man before he had a chance to look into those eyes, and Frumpkin seemed to be keeping him calm enough. ]

Do you have money or coin? As I recall, the hotels and restaurants there tend to require such things.

[ausgebrannt]

Oh, that... no, that would be a bad idea, kitty. I do not have... well.

[There was no home for Frumpkin to go to with him. Bren barely knew what he was doing next, and he would not condemn an animal, especially so cute and clever a cat as Frumpkin. He blinked briefly at the moonlight. As much as the moon ruled his life, and ruined it in many ways, it was also a comforting presence, regular and eternal in its waxing and waning.

He hesitated as this man dismounted, taking a small step back, his hold on the cat tightening as if Frumpkin were a security blanket. Closer now, he could see this stranger's face better, and he was beautiful -- like some fairytale creature stepped into the world and made real, sharp cheekbones and perfectly carved features. And again that flicker of familiarity before it was smothered by the programmed pain that chased it.

The question caught him off guard.] I... no, I do not. But I will manage, I'm sure.

[Why was his hart beating so far? And why did it ache?]

[zauberdecke]

[ Frumpkin was clearly not listening to either of them. The soft comforting rumble of purr against Bren's cheek as well as an imperious gaze directed at Essek whom despite everything, could still scent the utter aroma of the other man. But he was able to get close enough to look into those eyes, and he saw the flicker of something there, something familiar. And suddenly that pain shot through him, deep and tenuous, like a fraying rope as he looked into those eyes and saw Caleb staring back at him from within those depths.

He was silent. Now able to take in the full tableaux that had been offered to him, the threadbare coat, the fraying scarf, a tunic that was mud-splattered. Underneath, he was sure that each rib could be counted like coins in a palm, and the frame was fearful and scared-- a far departure from the past but still this was-- he was. ]

You will come back home with me then and procure yourself a bath and a change of clothing as well as food. If you doubt my intentions, you may keep the cat with you as I can assure you he's unlikely to let you fall to harm. And in the morning once you are rested, you may continue your own journey but--

[ This was the Essek who took infinite charge, this was someone who had built his empire clearly and competently and brooked no arguments. ]

By the looks of it, it is doubtful that you shall make it to the next town without falling over yourself and there are pesky wolves in the area.

[zauberdecke]

"I know they're only ghosts and memories that I'm clutching at
Maybe I'm reaching back for something I never had
Still it seemed so real to me
These ragged threads that lead me back to you
Losing my mind, waiting for you."

[ Essek made his departure then, reluctantly but necessary. The pull of the soul was intense, had been growing stronger and stronger throughout the evening until all he had wanted to do was allow the chemicals to take over, to press his lips to Bren's--- to see if the kiss was everything that he had remembered. He had a few things to do before seeking his bed but soon those too were taken care of; there was satisfaction in the fact that at the very least, he was going to be making Bren comfortable and that every one of his needs would be met with no cause for complaint.

Essek got back to his rooms with minutes to spare, setting the firm magical enchantments in place on his door as was ritual by now, and then with that familiar heaviness on his limbs did he slip into bed. There would be absolutely no time to think, and perhaps that was better that way. One hand on his stomach, one up and underneath his pillow, he could feel himself being pulled into the bed, into heavy unconsciousness where nothing could disturb his sleep of death.

Except...

He was not asleep, footsteps carried him backward and surprisingly enough he dreamed. He dreamed his way through the corridors and halls of Widogast Manor, where the lights glowed brightly and the scent of orange and cinnamon lit the air. His fingers found the door knob, a turn and he quietly entered the large room. Firelight cast from hearth and a familiar silouhette by one of the shelves, long red hair that nearly went to mid-back and head bent as if pouring over a book.

His husband.

Essek stole in quietly, much like a predatory. A light floation spell to make himself a touch taller than him so that he could look over his shoulder at what he was reading. And as he grew closer, his arns slipped around that slender waist and then he rested his chin against a shoulder. ]

What are you reading, Ussta'Chathiu?

[ Oranges, Cinnamon, Ink and Parchment.. all of his favorite scents made up into a single person, he could've scent marked this man for how undeniably precious he was, how much his heart still felt heavy and fond of him. Rough tenderness built of emotion seemed to fill him, and he could find no way to dispel them, but oh how he never wanted to. ]

[ausgebrannt]

[Bren felt himself sinking into a place deeper than his usual nightmares, deeper than the terrors of moon and fang and blood and into a familiar and comforting place. He'd had so many dreams when he was younger, dreams of another life, of another him. In those days, he'd felt like those dreams were as much reality as the life he was currently leading. Trent Ikithon had hated those dreams and had turned them from refuge to another horror, stripped as much of those memories from Bren and made certain that if he ever did find his way back to those dreams, when he woke he would be met with pain.

Tonight though, he could not have resisted that pull if he tried. He sank deep and into the arms of that other self.

Caleb opened his eyes in the library, gaze fixed on the pages of a book, lost in thought. He was good at getting lost in this room. This library was, so far as Caleb could tell, his husband's love letter to him. Oh they both were fond of disappearing into books and studies, creatures of similar drive for knowledge, but Caleb in particular knew that he sometimes lost himself near completely.

But never quite so completely that the touch of his lover wouldn't pull him out of it. Those arms wound around him, and Caleb smiled, leaning back into his husband, turning his head enough to press a kiss to his cheek.]

A treatise on the alchemy of souls, on how they may be connected even across the boundaries of lifetimes.

[And Caleb thought he could see how that would be true.

Somewhere, beneath the veneer of the dream, the part of Bren's soul that was and always would be Caleb cried out, pleading for Bren and Essek both to hear him. I am here. Find me. Please find me.]

[zauberdecke]

[ A soft hum as it came slowly back to the surface, the feeling of being in the presence of his love, the warmth of him as he was backlit by firelight, with those fiery red locks that even know bore the mark of Den Widogast-- a braid plait that Essek and him had devised as a way of branching out and creating their own bonds of fire and gravity. Around Essek's finger was a wedding ring with a white pearl caught in it's center, a gift that had been of Caleb upon their nuptials.

The kiss was accepted softly, the warmth of lips tickling against him as he peered over at the words on pages. Essek had paged through the same book, he'd been thinking of a spell to create that would keep them together forever, for time slipped through the hourglass perpetually and he knew that time was fleeting, especially for mortals such as Caleb.

And Essek refused to make Caleb what he was, it was the one thing that he could not do. Deprive his lover of the sun and daylight-- could not take that fire from him and make him cooler, especially not when his warmth had drawn him in. But Essek thought, 'I have time...' which was perhaps the greatest statement of hubris that he'd ever thought in this expansive life of his.

'There was never time enough..'

Essek's hold tightened and he nuzzled his face against Caleb's jawline much like a cat begging for affection. On the couch, Frumpkin loafed and gave the two of them slow kisses from his perch ]

Would you attempt to return to me, Caleb Widogast? My M'hrandii?

[ausgebrannt]

[There was no warmth in Essek's arms these days, but that only made Caleb all the more determined to be that warmth for his vampire husband. The drow had never been loved by the sun, but since it had been denied him entirely, Caleb did the best he could to make sure that Essek never lacked for warmth or light.

His biggest fear was what would happen to his lover when he was gone, and someday he would be gone. Caleb knew all too well that he was mortal, and Essek had made it clear that he had no intention of turning Caleb. But he'd thought they'd have years more than they did; seeing the future was never one of his talents, after all.

But in this moment, he was safe and content, exhaling a soft sound at that nuzzling. One hand reached up to touch through Essek's hair, soft and tender.]

I will always return to you, mein Sternenlicht. [A promise, and certainly one that he intended to keep whatever the cost of it was.] My heart and soul are yours, it seems only right that I should return them to you.

[zauberdecke]

[ This scene was of such a perfect domestic bliss-- and they'd been through so much together, up and to the creation of this haven that was their own, this perfect castle of their love, where they could be surrounded by books and with the world but a fluttering whispery afterthought. He sighed softly against the thrum of Caleb's pulse as he inhaled scent, as he allowed his mind to process the zemnian endearments, of being Caleb's Sternenlicht. ]

And my heart and soul are yours in return, they have always been yours-- ever since we first met, you know.

[ A soft chuckle against skin as he remembered the boys that they had been, and how it had been a slow descent into the dizzying madness of love ]

However, I am working on something, if you must know.

[ He reached for a silver chain held against his mantle, plucked it and then with skilled fingers he cast the spell, Tethered Essence and watch as that chain started to glow and became a connector between the two of them, a way for them to be as one-- binding their souls together in an inexplicable way for at least an hour. ]

I am trying to figure out how I could possibly amplify this spell to allow my life to tether yours, it is ambitious I know, and it may not be created in this life time, but perhaps in the next?

[ausgebrannt]

[Essek so close to where his pulse beat, the feeling of those lips against his neck had Caleb letting his head fall to the side, a fully reflexive baring of his neck for his lover if he desired to bite. He imagined there were people who would question his sanity for so eagerly baring his throat to so deadly a predator, but Caleb knew without doubt that this beautiful creature who had every ounce of his devotion would never hurt him.]

We were so very young... [Caleb reminisced, fondly. He had fallen for Essek just as quickly, for the brilliant dagger-sharp mind and so much cosmic fire hidden behind the carefully contained poise and distance.

He shut the book he had been reading, setting it aside on the shelf for the time being. He recognized the spell that Essek cast, the sounds of it, what he could make out of the somatic components from where he leaned back against him, he could see the shape of it, the thoughts that brought Essek to this plan. A more permanent and deeper version of this spell, yes, it could work, couldn't it?]

Very ambitious, beloved. And potentially dangerous. I would want my life lengthened at the cost of yours. [He cautioned gently, fingers still carding through Essek's hair.] But you are a brilliant mind, and if there is a way... I have faith in you finding it. I will help.

[zauberdecke]

[ Essek worked tirelessly on Bren's wardrobe, there were fittings-- of course there were fittings, and there were other things as well (Essek was not able to keep his hands off of Bren for even a second it appeared). A solid week and a half was spent on work related issues as well as the wardrobe in question. The moment that Bren received more modern gear, that was when Bren was able to accompany Bren on evening shopping trips as well as to his office within Rexxentrum.

Essek showed Bren the study, placing the key within Bren's hand-- then there were the trips to the book shoppe. Something that gave Essek renewed delight, something that they could share together again. So many things were given to Bren in those few weeks, including the sending stones that had been a relic of the past, and then the grimoire of which Caleb and Essek had transcribed shared spells into.

Finally though, Essek had his first event since the last one, and one that this time Bren would accompany him to.

A sheer black shirt with folds of cravat falling at his neck, then there was a little bit of gender fuckery in a leather skirt that went mid-thigh. To an inch below that, were dark thigh high boots, heeled, which gave a distracting peek of lavender that peeked through sheer shirt as well as the strip where boots could not quite reach skirt.

This entire outfit may very well cause a few problems for Bren already.

Perhaps Essek knew that? He did not say anything as he walked down the steps with graceful ease. ]

[ausgebrannt]

[The fittings were certainly more fun than Bren had expected, and he did nothing to discourage any of Essek's handsy tendencies. His own hands would wander given even the briefest chance. When he finally left the manor for the first time, with Essek on one of their shopping trips, he couldn't help but be a bit skittish. He stuck close to the other man, as if half expecting Trent Ikithon to appear from the shadows.

His confidence grew quickly though, and he enjoyed being back in a world that he had not been allowed to walk for years. Trips to the bookstore certainly helped, since Bren forgot all of his troubles when walking between the shelves. And more and more, with everything that Essek gave to him, he felt complete. In Caleb's study, he found pieces of spellwork, found himself sinking seamlessly into the study as if he'd written the notes himself.

And tonight? Tonight he would accompany Essek to one of the fashion magnate's events. He'd put on the clothes that the vampire had laid out for him. The pants were a similar leather to the skirt that Essek wore, form-fitting and clinging quite closely. The white shirt he wore over dipped low at the chest, a faint hint of copper chest hair just visible, a black silk vest buttoned over it.

None of that mattered at all the moment he saw Essek, however. He could not tear his eyes away from the other man, in particular that utterly obscenely sexy peek of perfect lavender skin between skirt and boots.

Bren was a ruined man, and he'd never been happier. Leather pants were suddenly quite a bit tighter. He'd have to deal with that, and focused his attention on keeping up with Essek.]

You look utterly stunning, Liebling.. What will I do with the world's eyes on you like this?

[That little possessive note in his voice that he couldn't quite keep down.]

[zauberdecke]

[ As if Bren was not the most gorgeous man in the universe.

The moment that he saw how well Bren wore those clothing, Essek's mouth started to water. Bren was not muscular, but there was perhaps a bit of strength underneath the surface, lithe and lean-- preternaturally gifted though Essek had not yet realized. In fact, Essek's own insight had suffered from having the precious soul back in his life that he had not realized certain things that would've marked to a vampire immediately the presence of were within the body.

No, Essek was enraptured by Bren's presence.

He took Essek's arm with the most coy and delicious smile, giving Bren the barest hint of incisor as he pressed his body up against the other man's side in the universe sign of subvert possessiveness.

Truth was that Essek had not asked Bren to be good during the parties. As Essek's companion, there was much that he could get away with; considering that the parties were usually opportunities for other people less powerful than Essek to fete him and lure him in for deals. It was for everyone to impress him and not vice versa. ]

What will you do, I wonder. [ Smugness in that voice as he started to tug Bren toward the double door where the car set to pick them up was waiting with it's humming engine. It was no surprise that he was looking at that neck and remembering that he had not fed yet this evening; perhaps he'd indulge a little bit when they got settled in the backseat. ] I want you to be my good boy tonight, but not too good, yes?

[ausgebrannt]

[Lithe and lean and progressively better and better fed, Bren already looked like a different man entirely even before he'd been dressed up in clothes that were finer than anything he'd ever worn in his life. And now, done up as he was, hair tamed into soft copper waves, tied back at the nape of his neck save for a few stray pieces that fell free about his face, a few days stubble shadowing his jawline, he looked like he belonged on the arm of the beautiful drow.

He reached over to settle his hand lightly atop Essek's as his arm was taken, the faintest brush along the other man's fingers before his arm fell back to his opposite side.]

Growl a bit perhaps, if anyone gets too close...

[And as he found himself led towards the car, he couldn't help but lean over to press a kiss at the shell of that pointed ear.]

Not too good, no. I can only behave so well, Liebling. I'm barely housebroken.

[He stepped ahead to open the back door, to gesture for Essek to enter first, taking the opportunity to play the gentleman.]

[zauberdecke]

[ Bren was leaving these subtle hints of his nature to Essek, and all Essek could pick up was on the fact that the words were incredibly arousing, both the innuendo that Bren would growl and then coupled with the inference that Bren would behave just as well as his nature allowed, well it sent a thrill going through him. A hum of pleasure, melodious and pitched for his lover's ear only before he slipped first into the car.

A passing look at the driver in the rearview mirror before finally he reached across the seat for Bren's hand so that he could drag the other man in with him. ]

It would be both a shame and a pleasure if I had to tame a brat this evening.

[ He slid against the seat, knees poised in a way that was decorous, and certainly a way in which when Bren would be able to settle his hand down upon, perhaps even a little bit higher up where skin was revealed between skirt and boot. ]

But maybe? All I will do is reward you, because I do so love to give my Chathiu a little something to chew upon. [ And then Essek curled his fingers lightly into the undone collar, pressing it aside to show quite the mark there, where his mouth had been last night, the bruise a beautiful shade of purple that proclaimed who the other man belonged to. ]

[ausgebrannt]

[Bren slipped into the car beside Essek, pulling the door shut and deliberately moving himself closer. There was the flicker of a smile on his lips at those words.]

For me, I think it would only be the latter...

[All pleasure, no shame in allowing himself to be tamed by the hand of his soulmate. He was quite certain he'd enjoy every moment of it -- both the being the brat and any taming that it happened to inspire.

In fact, he couldn't help but start now, setting a hand right upon that knee, fingers slipping to the inside of his thigh, drawing up and then down, fingers teasing their way to the back of his knee -- some sixth sense that this may well indeed be a sensitive spot.

It was his turn to shiver as Essek continued to speak, at the touch of those fingers. He swallowed down the sound that wanted to escape.]

[zauberdecke]

[ And surprisingly.. nothing bad happened?

He woke up, just like so and with Bren's arms firmly around him.. he was safe and warm and he could hear his mate's breathing in the darkness of the room, his lips found neck and he nibbled on his lover's neck until the other man was fully roused and he was able to obtain a bit of a dinner here and now. What also awaited them was the paper which was rested against Essek's desk in his study, of which there was the two of them in the society column. With himself (the illusion he cast) walking, and being accompanied by his mate; no name was known so helpfully the Media supplied, "Mystery Man".

If Essek checked his texts, he would see that there were scores of messages from his publicist as well as a few assistants wanting to know how to handle this and if they should actually provide a name to the media.

However Essek did look up, to see how Bren was taking this. ]

You do not.. we do not have to give them a name whatsoever, if you want.. you can remain my anonymous companion who is devoted lover and bodyguard. [ The mate was silent, but it was there ]

[ausgebrannt]

[Bren slept soundly. Well, once he fell asleep, anyway. He stayed awake a while to just look at Essek's face -- so still, like the other man was more statue than living, vibrant creature. It was the warmth that lingered in the vampire's skin that gave him comfort that this stillness of death was nothing so dire.

Morning came though, and as he let his eyes roam over the picture, unable to hide a smile at the sight of him and Essek walking, the drow on his arm. He would be stealing that paper to save the picture, tuck it away in a book somewhere to keep as a tangible memory.

The werewolf stepped in closer to his mate now, nuzzling at Essek's cheek before pressing a kiss there.]

Bren Aldric Ermendrud, from Blumenthal.

[It was terrifying, but he'd stepped out into the light last night, left the sanctuary of Widogast Manor. Ikithon would find him with or without his name finding its way into the paper. So yes, it was terrifying and something in Bren bordered on trembling with it, but he was stubborn to. He would not hide any longer. He would not leave his lover as the only one on the line in the public eye.

He wanted the world to know that he was Essek's, Trent Ikithon included.]

[zauberdecke]

Bren Aldric Ermendrud, from Blumenthal.. I could not ask for a better mate, and I would love for the world to know who you are to me.

[ Essek echoed in confirmation, with the most secret of smiles, before he started to type on his phone the name and the nature of their relationship so that the publicist could provide to the press if asked for, though he did lean against Bren while he attended to it, his back to Bren's chest so that the other man could see what he was doing. There would be no secrets between them and well, he did enjoy the closeness.

There was a moment though where something caught his attention. Something about the Werewolf Club, Big Moon Little Moon which was for.. sale? He looked up abruptly and then he turned to look up at Bren, his eyes wide. ]

Bren, how much influence would you say that Ikithon has with the Wolves in Rexxentrum.. truly?

[ The wheels were starting to turn in his head, of ways to demolish Ikithon slowly but thoroughly ]

[ausgebrannt]

I want that too, for the world to know that I am yours. As I am meant to be. And you are mine.

[Bren wrapped his arms around Essek from behind, glancing over his shoulder at what he's typing, but only briefly. Then he finds himself terribly distracted. Essek was right there, and Bren kissed slowly up the side of his neck, behind his ear, up to nibble gently at the shell of that sharp point. There was something warm and intimate about the moment, simply existing in Essek's world, waking up from his bed, neither of them holding back secrets any longer.

He paused at the question, stepping back as Essek turned to look at him.]

...too much. But I don't believe it is as secure an influence as he believes it is. There is a loyal circle around him, ja. But beyond that...

[zauberdecke]

[ Needless to say Essek's mind was going in circles, because he wanted to send a message to Trent Ikithon and he wanted it to be a good message but also-- he was mindful of Bren since the man was Were and so therefore there would be effects and consequences. ]

It happens that there is a certain club up for sale that has been up to this point populated by the Wolves. know this because I have had my eye on that property for a potential boutique expansion. [ The area was not rough, which had surprised him for a typical werewolf hang-out but then now that he was in love and mated to a wolf, well easier to believe considering that there were different values.

Though he still thought it was because less questions were likely to be raised if one had the money to control the narrative. ] I am thinking of doing a quick purchase of it for reasons that it would give him one less place that he could claim as his.

[ A clear line in the ground, that if Trent passed this line.. or any of his minions the man would be absolutely and utterly dead. And despite the fact that he had launched individual attacks on Widogast Manor's barriers, "Big Moon Little Moon" would be highly questionable and public territory that he'd have to think about before trespassing upon. ] However, I do not think I would want to turn it into a Boutique, I am thinking of keeping it as it is...

[ausgebrannt]

[This was the sort of calculated strategy and moves that Bren knew that Trent had thought he was a master of, but he had the distinct sense that Essek could outmatch the old fool with barely a batting of those perfect eyelashes. This was not Bren's element, but he was a clever man, and he could follow the cascading dominoes of pieces that Essek was speaking of placing, and he nodded, even as he continued to keep himself wrapped around his mate.

His arms were settled around Essek's waste, nose buried on his neck to breathe in the delectable scent of his skin while he listened to what the drowpire had to say.]

And one less reason for the wolves in the city to feel the need to play nice with him, to be caught under his eyes.

[Bren nibbled against the skin where neck and shoulder met, forgetting for a moment just who was the vampire here perhaps.]

Oh? Taking it over as the nightclub that it is then. That would certainly be a statement, Sternenlicht. Would you take me dancing?