formmusebox | for Essek (lacrymaperle)

for Essek (lacrymaperle) - vampire/werewolf au

[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.]

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Ah...

[Why did Bren suddenly feel like he'd been caught misbehaving? He hesitated, unsure how to answer the question, mouth opening before shutting. Well, the truth was probably the better option here.]

I ate a late lunch, but have not had dinner, no.

[The next question had him wrinkling his nose and waving a hand at him.] You may ask Jester if you like. She insisted on me trying today's new pastries.

[Thankfully there had also been some less confectionary options as well.

Unaware entirely of what he was truly asking, he turned the query back on Essek.] And what about you, Lord Thelyss? Have you eaten dinner yet?

[A tilt of his chin, meant to be smug and perhaps a bit authoritative, but probably ended being an unfortunate and unintended temptation of baring his throat in the process of the movement.]

[ Essek's eyes slid to that perfect throat, how it looked bared so beautifully for his gaze. And his sharpened eyesight could see exactly where the most delicious vein throbbed the most, beguiling and sweet; he was utterly sure that the blood that lay at the gateway would taste like oranges and cinnamon spice, like home on a cold autumn evening.

For a moment hunger overtook him; he had not fed but he planned on later.

A lie would suffice. ]

I have a very light appetite, I did eat a little something before leaving my room-- I am very self conscious tough and do not enjoy eating in front of others, so I rarely do not.

[ He would use the excuse that Drow had some primative eating habits, that would work ]

And you must call me 'Essek', please since we know each other fairly well now..

[ He motioned toward the library and then the portrait with an elegant hand ] We should dispense with the formalities, Chathiu--

Mm. Is that so?

[A skeptical lift of one eyebrow at that. Bren wasn't entirely certain of that explanation, but any thoughts of pressing the issue further ended abruptly as the other man asked -- or well told -- him to call him by name.

He smiled, a small, almost shy thing. He'd smiled more in the not-quite-two-days that he had been here than he had in longer than he could remember.]

Essek.

[Bren repeated, shaping the word like something delicious that he'd forgotten the taste of until just now. It felt right, or almost right. There were other words, names, endearments that something told him should be there, but he did not have them yet, just the empty shapes of them not yet filled in.

When Essek used one for him, in a language he did not understand, he could feel himself flush.]

I suppose you're right, ja. We are beyond those now.

[ Essek was tempted, of course he was; there was no doubt about that but there was still a part of Essek that was holding himself back. But the offering of name, of allowing Bren to call him Essek-- that was a step in the right direction. And there was so much for Bren to discover while Essek worked to keep the man safe, keeping him safe for his late husband, keeping him safe for him. The pull was there but Essek did not want to hold this incarnation of Caleb back quite yet.

He'd been through so much pain and trouble, and now Essek had a scope of it when the name Ikithon had been mentioned.

The drow formed the well used glyph for his purpose and then cast a sending spell to Jester downstairs, a silent communication then ensued where Essek's expression turned from placid to gently wry. There had certainly been a response though he would not precisely disclose what it had been. ]

Jester will be bringing up repast for you to my workroom which you may nibble on at your leisure.. now come, Bren.

[ A motion of his hand, those words utterly gentle and yet with the softest bit of authority of it with the Lord coming out-- a Lord that was quite used to being obeyed. Throughout the night, he would see that Bren ate in bits and pieces here and there. The library could wait for later hours to be returned to, and Essek always preferred to do any work when he first awoke, it was when he felt hte most motivated. ]

I have two workrooms, one is for magic and the other is for my 'day job' you could say-- [ And then quietly ] My late husband also had a work room of his own, which I shall show you as well, once we are done.

[ And there was a part of Essek that wanted to show to Bren everything that had filled Caleb's life with job and meaning-- not realizing that most intense one of them all was buried deep within himself ]

[And Bren was quite used to following orders, to doing what he was told under pain of punishment if he did not. There was something kinder, gentler about this Lord Thelyss, and it was all too easy, comfortable, to fall in at his side dutifully as he had been bade.]

I would say that I do not need so much looking after as that, but... I think I might. It's an adjustment, taking car of myself again, having that option.

[Freedom was a forgotten then, nearly atrophied in him after his time in Trent's clutches. The muscle memory was returning though, guided as it was by the gentle but firm hand of his still-mysterious benefactor.]

How long has it been? Since you lost him, that is.

[It was an intensely personal question, but there was an air of such sadness and loneliness that hung over this man, like his heart had been left alone in the cold for far too long.]

[ Up the stairs, Essek led Bren and as he walked, he spoked. He almost seemed to hover with the grace that he personified, perhaps he did a little bit. It was hard to think of him as short because his very being was tall, at least presence-wise. It was an air of impeccable control that clung to him like a mantle or a finely woven cloak. His fingers glided lightly on the balustrade as he walked up the stairs, ever mindful that the human followed quietly behind him. ]

I did not get nearly as many years with him as I had wanted, certainly not a lifetime; I would say perhaps 140 ago since he..

[ He could feel that part within his chest ache, the part that did not have the luxury of a living and breathing heart-- but for a moment when he had had been with Caleb, the wizard had shared his heart with him, and he had felt something like life within the hollow of his soul. ]

He was just shy of his 33rd birthday, though we met when we attended Solstryce together.

Such a long time.

[Bren murmured quietly. When Essek had kept so much untouched, as if the ghost of his late husband had never really left this place. But no, that wasn't right. There was no ghost here, no soul lingered in the walls of this place. That knowing presence deep inside him -- who was climbing ever closer to the surface since he had come to be with Essek Thelyss -- assured him that no, no wayward spirits. Instead that soul had dove straight into the cycle of rebirth in hopes of returning to his soulmate, to this lonely, beautiful man.]

I'm sorry. That is not nearly enough time.

[Something in his heart ached so deeply that it almost took his feet out from underneath him. The memories were not there, but somehow the emotions were, that feeling of fear and pain in death, but worse the fear of what would become of a love left behind, left alone.]

[ The only ghosts here were in the tendrils of nostalgia, while no spiritual residue of the paranoral remained, no lingering ghosts of Caleb. There was the memories that clung to this place-- to every door, every surface, to every little pain of glass that had been touched by the glow of moon and the glimmering warmth of fire.

He glanced over at Bren as he ascended back to the landing that would lead back to the second floor, and then he reached out and took Bren's hand, to give it a squeeze. ]

I am a drow and will live centuries, it would never have been enough time.

[ he always would've wanted another day week, year. He would've loved Caleb through all of the seasons of his life-- unfortunately it had been Summer of it when he'd been taken away, he'd never been able to experience Caleb in Winter, or Fall. ]

If you have any other questions about Caleb Widogast, I would be able to provide them.

[ He opened the door and then led Bren out and then quickly toward the right, closer and closer still toward the Amber room and yet going past it, further down the hall until himself and Bren came to his wing, darkened in a way that the other wings were not, his fingers then falling on a door handle and he turned and then pushed it to reveal a darkened room.

This room was filled with a work desk, dress stands with half-finished pieces. There were spools and bolts of fabric organized in large cubicles, and things such as lace and trimming in the other. It was where Essek did most of his work where it came to Thelyss Aesthetics. ]

No, I suppose it wouldn't have.

[But thirty-three is so young, even in the fragile limited lifespan of a human that was not long. Bren himself has never been in love, even with the other werewolves that he had been given to to imprint on, it had never felt like how he imagined love would feel.

He imagined it would be more like stepping into freefall, suspiciously like the way his heart decided to defy gravity in his chest when Essek Thelyss looked at him -- which was a confusing and frightening thought.

His thoughts were, mercifully, redirected to looking around as they moved into the wing of the manor that had not been part of his tour earlier. Essek's personal wing. He knew that Drow had sensitive eyes, that they were not fans of bright light or the sun at the best of times. It made sense enough that Bren wasn't going to question it. His eyes swept the room once Essek had opened the door, curious, but constrained by the limitations of his human eyes in the dimness.

His fingers itched to slip into shapes he shouldn't have known, to carve a sigil through the open air, the start of an incantation on his tongue out of reflex and muscle memory, knowing full well they would send up several soft globules of light. Why did he know that? He looked back to Essek.]

I have many questions about him. And about you.

[And about me. He gave into the urge in his fingers, surrendering to the instinct and in a moment four small globules of light flared softly into existence, the illumination soft and dim, a gentle amber glow, familiar to Essek without doubt. But now Bren could see the darkened room better without waiting for his host to trigger whatever lights may have been in here.]

You were both mages?

[ They were both navigating this together; for Essek it came in a different format; wanthing this man whom his husband had been reincarnated as but likewise realizing that he could not possibly turn it into what he had, what they had. Nothing could be exactly the same and Bren was different and his own, and he worried that any interest that Bren seized upon would be undershadowed by the what came before.

It was an exceedingly hard line to walk.

He stepped in and was about ready to turn on the electric wall sconces when the room suffused into a soft glow. He turned around in wondering surprise where his eyes caught Bren, the magic hovering over the palms before floating upward like dancing flames.

His throat painfully constricted, even as he saw Frumpkin run circles around Bren's feet, attempting to subdue them much like a real cat's instictual need to chase lights and shadows. ]

We were both mages, and the most talented in our class; we graduated as co-valedvictorians because our professors did not know how they could seperate our talents and decide from their. Though his specialty had always been fire and mine Dunamancy.

[ Dunamancy was not something that was common within the Zemni fields, rather a specialty from further north east where the Drow lived within Xhorhas. He was rummaging around and finally found his measuring tape, the last time he'd used it-- he'd been measuring Veth for her wedding dress. ]

That was one of his favorite spells, you know-- Dancing Lights; he used to name spells after himself and I would always tease him about it.

[Bren looked from the rising lights to the cat trying to capture them, smiling fondly. Ridiculous creature; he was already very invested in this strange fey cat. His eyes turned to Essek as the other man spoke; he was also already very invested in this strange, mysterious Drow.

He sent three of the lights up to hover in the room and sent one skittering across the floor for Frumpkin to chase.]

So you were a power couple from the start.

[Bren teased gently, but there was some truth to the words, wasn't there? This man in front of him was powerful, enough that Bren truly believed that Essek could stand against Trent Ikithon, if Trent were to track him to this place -- a thought that still filled him with cold and leaden fear when he considered it.

His eyes lifted to the lights once more.] It just came to mind...

[But that was strange too, and he let that thought be shuffled to the side as he walked in, moving closer to Essek.]

Is that why this is Widogast Manor?

A power couple?

[ Essek inclined his head as he considered Bren, the way that he came in closer. Off in the distance, he could see that Frumpkin was taking delight in chasing the dancing lights, and fondness because that was rooted in something deeper as well-- of Caleb doing the same thing, three lights to read and then one to skitter about the room while Frumpkin chased it maniacally. ]

You could say that we were, and actually-- I named it Widogast Manor.

[ Essek drew closer with the measuring tape in hand and then motioned for Bren to stand on a dais rising up toward the middle of the room. ] I will measure you now, I have another set of measurements in my mind from before, which I am sure you naturally will default to when you get enough food within you, but for now, it will probably improve your confidence to have clothes tailored to you.

[ and then Essek continued as he watched Bren with fondness in his eyes ]

I was disowned from my Den when I married Caleb Widogast, because I did not seek permission to do so, and thus when we married, I told him that I was Den Widogast now, and that the house must be named after him.

[ He was now in a different type of Den, more of a Coven, and now the leader of it. But deep in his heart he was still Den Widogast ]

[Bren stepped up on the dais as indicated. This was a first for him, and he couldn't help a surge of self consciousness. He really had arrived in a state of complete disarray and filth, and that at least had been addressed. But Essek Thelyss lived in a world that Bren had never come close to, even before Trent had found him, and certainly even farther away since then.

But Essek had not treated him as anything but welcome here. Knowing now that he was the incarnation of his late lover's soul, well that certainly was a reason. But Essek still treated him as the person that he was now, not who he had been in another life time. Bren desperately wanted to ease some of that pain that ran so deep in those eyes, to soothe away that grief that he wore like a mantle.

The explanation of the house's title had him smiling.]

You carved out a Den of your own. I see.

[And even now, this place was filled with good, kind people. Bren had met several of them already.

He couldn't stop himself from reaching out then, fingers touching along Essek's cheek.]

Thank you again, for allowing me to stay here. It's been a long time since I've felt truly safe.

[ The very soft touch against his cheek and Essek felt a quiver within him like a glow, he looked up at Bren from where he stood, and for a moment those normally hooded eyes communicated such a raw desperate longing, a kindness that he had not received in a while. A sweet touch from someone who had been starved for it-- and the frission of feeling was so very similar to how he'd felt every time Caleb touched him like so.

He felt so very raw from the power that forced it's way through him at the touch. It was magnetic and pulsing, and it made something deep inside him sing.

But he did not flush, his skin would not allow for that, it still maintained it's coolness. He busily set himself to work with the measurements, making sure that the height was the same (it was, to the centimeter). Then their was the measure from shoulder to shoulder, yet another read that was perfectly in line with the information that he had stored in his mind. He remembered the first time he'd taken Caleb's measurements, he remembered Caleb flirting with him, attempting to get him under skin enough that he would have to pull him to the couch in the corner.

It had worked; of course it had worked well enough that they'd become a messy greedy mess twined on that same couch, with Caleb pushing into him while pinning his hands above him. Another deep breath as he attempted to push that memory back, the tape caught around that waist where there was a marked difference. ]

It is my intention to make it so that you are safe within these walls Bren.. it is the least I can do for you, as well as for him. [ Then he casts a wry smile up at Bren while he works to measure things like wrists and elbows to forearms ] Though once again, your offer to organize the library is muchly appreciated.

[ That is when Essek took a knee on the dais and leaned down, the edge of the tape he settled against Bren's ankle and then carefully he started to pull it upward, slowly and methodically measuring the inseam, from ankle to right where leg stopped ]

[Bren let his touch linger. How could he not when he saw that look in Essek's eyes. If he were not standing on the small dais, if Essek weren't moving to begin the measuring, he wouldn't have been able to resist sweeping the other man into a hug. His soul ached to hold him, to be held in turn. The ghost of Caleb yearned for it too, so close but so infinitely far. That cold skin, he only wanted to warm it up in whatever way he could.

His hand fell away as Essek began taking the measurements, trying to be cooperative and not get in the way of having it down. But having the Drow's hands on him, even in those small incidental touches in the name of business, it made something in him flutter.]

It's still a very selfish offer. That library is the most amazing thing I have seen in my life. I will enjoy getting to know it.

[And getting to know its owner... who just dropped to his knees in front of him. Bren tried not to die and go to hell right then and there from the inappropriate thoughts that surged through him. This was business, Bren. Do not get aroused.]

[ Essek had been aware of how close he was though he'd attempted to deny it, or to ignore it. The way that Bren stood there as still as the hour before dawn. He traded a look with the other man before he completed that measurement and mentally marked it down. Except as he was doing so, he felt the sweet pulse of something, something bright and hot. He knew this scent, it was a scent that he was confronted with at the club that he liked to attend; the club was full of it but he attempted to ignore it.

Somehow though, that sweet scent coming from Bren? It was near impossible to ignore. Someone with less instincts than him would've been able to see the way that the blood started to fill out in the shape of a hard line against trousers.

Hunger spiked through him, a mind-numbing sort of hunger that was rooted in so much of what he had remembered. He'd not touched anyone else since Caleb, had never wanted to however he wanted to touch that man now, wanted to cup that arousal and knead it underneath the palm of his hand, slow and deep until this man was a panting mess above him.

What would happen if he unbuttoned fastenings and then pressed a kiss to the skin just between where balls met shaft, and he bit down until he could taste semen and blood dance over his tongue in a taste that was fully this man. He felt nearly sick with hunger as he moved to measure the other side. He did not need to measure the other side, and yet?

He did ]

I could see you in leather pants, you know. I may have to measure your hips..

[ And cross that measuring tape just around hips, around the press of shaft against fabric ]

[Bren was being tested. He'd never put much stock in the gods, and this was their retribution for his casual neglect. They were trying him with this beautiful creature and those precise and elegant hands skirting so close to absolutely indecent territory. He might not survive this.

The older part of his soul rolled his eyes. This was nothing. Give him five minutes outside this walled off place and he would have Essek back on that chaise, reminding him exactly how much he had missed him. He was also fully aware that his inseam was quite the same on both sides, and that measurement was gratuitous. They were both hopeless.

Bren glanced down at those words.] Oh... that's, yes. Of course.

[He answered full of innocence, even if his voice was strained already.]

[ If there was no surviving this, well Essek would throw himself to the (literal) wolves here. He felt hot even though he did not know why he did so. Instead he allowed for that measuring tape to wrap around those hips, the way that he lightly stretched it taught, and close enough that he could feel the heart beat and the sweet musky smell of it. His tongue darted out to lick his lower lip, suddenly both thirsty and hungry while faced with the reality of Bren's presence.

His mind already filled in the measurements in his mind.

Idly he wondered if.. they measured the same there as well?

The tape fell from where it had been wrapped around and he realized he was using this as an excuse to measure every part of Bren, to commit it to memory, to soak himself in the feeling of having Bren with him, and then he rose up from his knees, his gaze catching Bren's and then he very slowly slid behind Bren and that same measuring tape was now lightly touching Bren's neck. The barest whisper, the pull and then Essek leaned in to catch the measurements.

And his lips precariously close to the softness of that neck ]

You are being so good for me, Bren--

[No surviving it at all, no coming out unscathed, but Bren had accepted this fact. He tried not to hold his breath as that tape wrapped around his hips, as he could feel that scant pressure against his prick that was absolutely not getting hard in his trousers (it absolutely was and he cursed himself for it, but that helped nothing at all.)

He would have breathed a sign of relief (or was it longing?) when Essek stood up, but the other man was not yet done it seemed. His eyes fixed on Essek's, caught by those exquisitely jeweled galaxies, watching right until the Drow slipped out of his sight and to behind him.

The touch of that tape measure had his chin lifting reflexively, breath catching yet again. His eyes shut, going still with as close as the other man was. Oh. Those words were not fair at all. Something tightened low in his belly, something hot that ran deeper than it had any right to, straight to the heart of him.]

Am I? [A swallow, a breath.] I want to be... good for you.

[Gods help him he was in far too deep and he wasn't even sure when it had happened.]

[ The arousal had sharpened to a keen point and Essek scented where it flared-- he'd felt the arousal and it had pulled him, alongside the naked and raw longing in those beautiful blue eyes; eyes that he could've gotten lost in, eyes that pulled at his soul. He was hard, of course he was hard-- he was never not within a semi-hard state, but he throbbed within his loose fitting lounge pants-- a testament to his utter lack of control.

He stood their, barely calculating the measurements of that neck because all he could hear was the steady thick way that blood circulated through arteries and veins, the subtly quickening breath and that pale flesh that looked like everything he wanted. Two new freckles stood out on that neck, lingering precariously close to where he had often times bit into flesh, his favorite spot-- Caleb's favorite spot, where his teeth could easily sink in like a knife to butter.

Would Bren be pliant there? Would skin bear memory of what had been before? He inhaled with his nose brushing and his fingertips slipping to grasp at angular hips.

He could not resist the way his mouth parted and then his tongue dragged against flesh while he poised on the precipice, reading Bren's own reaction and ready to draw away if the reaction was less than favorable. But gods how he wanted to eat this gorgeous man, to slip his teeth in and bury his hand in trousers, like how he did with Caleb.

And the moan that came from Lord Thelyss was nearly tortured from the longing]

[Bren stood motionless, frozen, afraid to move too much for fear of shattering the moment, of doing anything that would send Essek moving back or away. His eyes were still closed, but he could feel Essek's presence, that almost touch, the faint thrum of his existence. He forced himself to breathe, biting back a soft sound at the brush of that nose against his neck, the grip of those hands at his hips.

The drag of that tongue had him outright trembling. He wasn't imagining this after all, was reading something into the situation that wasn't there.

A soft sound slipped from his lips, shivery and low, and Bren let his head fall to the side, fully baring his neck to that attention, a clear invitation -- even if he was unaware exactly what he was inviting. Oh but he didn't care, wouldn't care. After hearing that moan, there was nothing he wouldn't give Essek Thelyss to hear more of it, to give the other man exactly what had set that longing note in his voice.]

Please... [Another soft sound, a plea even if he couldn't say exactly what he was pleading for.]

[ That was the truest form of consent that Essek could've been given. It was that slight lolling to the side, the soft baring of neck; the way that fabric of tunic parted. How he'd clocked the way that the barest hint of red sprigs of chest hair was revealed by the opening, something else he'd always been fascinated by. And thus did Essek pull Bren in close to him, fingers keeping that body there as he let out a soft murmur of endearments in a language that only Caleb inside would know.

And then slowly, sinfully-- teeth dug against those two freckles and the flesh gave so deliciously; he barely had to apply pressure to it in the fact that it gave readily, and immediately blood pumped as if answering his tongue, which swabbed near greedily that which was given to him with no hesitation.

His eyes closed in absolute bliss as the taste of him engulfed his ever sense and set a flowing heat and warmth through him. Now, Essek had found out quickly that taking of blood was important but it was necessary, the vessal usually some amount of pleasure-- but for Essek it was perfunctory. However taking blood from his mate had been a ceremony, a ritual-- something that transcended the act of feeding; a reverent act of love and trust. And gods was Essek drawn into that even as his hand on Bren's hip slowly slid underneath tunic to touch against skin, cool fingers that would soon warm with the potency of his lover's blood.

With a truemate, blood went much further, much longer-- would bring a glow to him and a flush to his cheeks; even small portion. ]

[Bren's eyes widen in that moment when those teeth pierced his neck, the sudden overlap of reality and dream come to a realization. Vampire. The instincts that should have ruled him as a werewolf should have recognized this as an enemy. All the things that Trent had spent years drilling into his head about terror and pain and violence race through his mind before being washed away by that wash of safety and protection.

All of that was wrong. Essek had taken him in, kept him warm and clean and fed and been nothing but kind to him. Then the bliss crashed into him, like moonlight spilling through a window, setting every cell in him aglow in shimmering, scintillating light. There was no pain in this, only a wellspring of pleasure that stole the breath from his lips.

After that initial moment of tension, everything in Bren relaxed, easing back against Essek, his posture a perfect expression of trust and building desire. Memories that weren't his bubbled up, a first kiss in the shade of a tree, the first time he felt the piercing of these teeth in his neck, softly reassuring his lover that there was no way that he could hurt him, that he wanted this, wanted him no matter what he had been turned into; the sound of laughter as Essek scolded him for having managed to smear ink across his cheek rather than the paper.

So much was still a blur, still beyond his grasp -- and that other fragment of his soul was still kept caged behind a barrier that Bren could not understand -- but he clung to those pieces, clung to the ecstasy that still rolled over him.

His stomach caved beneath that touch, a fluttering feeling that started low in his belly and swept up to speed his heartbeat.]

Essek... [One hand slipped up, fingers finding their way into his hair, urging him on, all encouragement.]

[ A soft whimper as Essek's tongue laps against Caleb's neck, the expanse revealed to his questing tongue, the teeth firmly in place but that tongue growing hotter and hotter with each sweep and swipe. He was hungry for the years, all of the years he had missed-- suddenly he felt like he had consumed all of Bren's fire for it was thrumming through every vein and every secret part of his soul-- his hand grew warmer with the drugged feeling of Bren's blood-- giving life to them and the tiniest part of a heartbeat he could feel in his chest.

Like butterflies wings learning to fly again, after such a long slumber underneath the coldness of winter.

When Bren arched against him, he felt those fingers in his hair-- erotic in such a simple way, but only this soul had ever been allowed to touch his hair and he gasped as drop upon drop of sanguine bliss touched his tastebuds. All the while his fingers slid underneath tunic, and then slipping downward until his slowly warming fingers skirted into the edge of trousers and finally his hand was burrowed deep inside, searching for something that he knew was there, he needed to feel Bren's throbbing-- feel it in time with the imprint of blood, filling his hands and mouth with life. ]

Bren...

[ Not Caleb's name, though that was unspoken, no-- he recognized the man for who he was, an extension but of his own expiriences and his own autonomy, and finally, finally his searching found prick, each ridge as he remembered it.

Same, but different. ]

[Each lap of that tongue only fanned the flame of the growing pleasure racing through him, and somewhere at the back of his mind he realized that there was a growing warmth accompanying it, accompanying the touch against his skin. His own heart beat faster with each moment. His fingers gripped tighter in that hair, soft as satin between his fingers.

He wondered what the rest of his skin would feel like beneath his touch, wondered what Essek would sound like as his hands explored and learned his body -- or was it relearned? The line was blurring. And oh he wanted to relearn it all. Whether it was his soul or the instincts of the beast he'd been turned into or some unholy union of the two, everything of him was screaming that this was his mate, and he'd finally found his way to him.

When that hand found its way around him, Bren nearly choked on the moan that tore past his lips. He was already achingly hard, and that touch was more than welcome.]

Oh gods... [His hips jerked towards that hand, eyes fluttering shut.]

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