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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You are a complete and utter ruin, Chathtiu-- [ Essek said this with a smile as he lowered his body down to rest against Bren's, his arms draping around those shoulders and he spoke those words in between slick kisses, against his leg he could feel Bren's arousal hard and throbbing and so he attempted to lighten gravity there so that his lover did not have too much purchase to work against. ]

But you are my ruin.

[ Tongue softly simmered against that lower lip and then a light trail as he played his mate's mouth like a fine instrument. ]

And I am rather glad you will be sleeping with me tonight, that way I will be able to ensure that you are not a naughty boy who tries to touch himself without my permission.

Yours... and ruined because of you.

[There was no denying that at all, especially given the way that Bren was looking at his mate like Essek was the one responsible for setting the moon alight in the sky each night. And wasn't he exactly that?

The trick of gravity did not stop the werewolf from reflexively arching, rutting up against Essek as the other man settled against him, a bit mindless in that growing need. A soft whimper lost to that kiss, his own tongue flicking along Essek's, invitation and surrender.]

Mm... good. Help me be good for you.

[ The fact that Bren was arching against his body, it was rather endearing even if he knew that it was setting Bren up toward being naughty and spilling. Those lips were promising being good but the body as it rutted up against him was likewise showing that he was being very impatience. And so as he pressed open mouthed kisses against those lips, chin nuzzling beard while he tried not to undulate against that arousal.

The mindlessness was not lost on him; the fact that if Bren succumbed to that dark wolf part of him, that he would not last and Essek did not want to be cruel to the other man. ]

Do you want me to fashion a magic cock ring for you, so you do not spill yourself? [ In a singular act of mercy, because he did love this man and wanted him to be happy even as he also wanted him to be good; give him all the tools to be good. ] I fear you may spill yourself with only a single touch?

[Intent and control were two warring forces. Bren was trying, certainly, but his cock seemed intent on betraying him before too long. He was caught up in kissing Essek to be as concerned about it as he should, losing himself to the wet heat of that mouth on his own, the taste of him, sweeter than any he'd ever known before he found his way to his mate.

The words drew him back to the present and he could feel himself flushing, realizing just now that he was indeed rutting and rubbing himself against the other man like some mindless thing. A soft whimper preceded him actually finding his voice, and he nodded.]

Please... I know I'm close. Too close.

[And his beautiful, benevolent lover was ready to help him. Bren looked up at Essek in utter adoration.]

[ It was a good thing for Bren that Essek wanted him to succeed and to last. And so he allowed himself a smile and then quickly got up from the floor where he had been hovered against Bren's eager and utterly wanton frame, the way that he writhed was beautiful.

He walked over to a little chest and then removed a key from his pocket and then inserted it into it. It was clear it was someplace that he kept precious things and after rummaging through them, he finally took out an onyx ring. ] This is where I keep some of the things that both Caleb and I used-- it is a hodgepodge really, there are jewelry that he gave me but there is also things that I gave him-- this is one of them?

[ And then Essek came back, wielding the onyx ring as if it was something fine. ] This will tighten around your cock and it will prevent you from coming, but it will not fully cut off circulation; it is a magical item so it will.. shall we say, self regulate.

[Bren rose on shaky legs to follow Essek, a newborn fawn just finding his feet. But he would follow his mate without hesitation, watching in curiosity as the small chest was unlocked and then open. Somewhere in the depths of himself, locked away, the part of him that had been Caleb -- that should still be Caleb -- recognized the things he saw within. And certainly recognized that onyx ring.

Bren did not, of course, but he could guess at it.

And as Essek turned back to him, he could feel his cheeks heat as the other man described how the little magical trinket would work. It sounded quite effective really, and clever.]

Will you put it on me?

Kiss me first..

[ Essek said archly as he stood there looking up at Bren, the normally serious mien was suddenly playful and dancing, light and airy as if he had something to live for now-- even if his own unlife was as such that he had been only existing before this point, and that had started the night he lost Caleb. He leaned up on his tiptoes and presented those full lips for his lover to worship.

And all the while, that band of cool onyx slid down that chest, against abdomen and then his own fingers carefully and almost casually undoing the fastenings. Though it was clear he would not commit until he had what he wanted and that was that mouth sliding against him so that he could taste his mate like a promise of eternity there. ]

Ah...

[A soft gasp because Bren would never object to kissing Essek, even if he knew he was worryingly close to the edge of his self control. Another gasp, a shiver, at the feeling of the ring against skin, cool and smooth and, for a moment he had to remember how to breathe.

He stepped closer, hands lifting to cradle either side of Essek's face, gentle and reverent, before he found those lips with his own, soft and gentle but with an undeniable underlying heat.]

[ Between the part of lips, there lay fire-- it was banked but he felt it. Even warmer due to his already cool skin, though warmer now after breakfast. As his mouth was attended to, spread thighs, and delved into-- his hands were fumbling for that clasp then, until finally Bren popped right now, and then he carefully reached in to grasp him by the pace-- to stifle as much blood flow long enough to slide that ring into place, and then the onyx was slid downward in what felt like miles but was merely inches.

At the base, he secured it with a tap, and then it affixed itself with but a tap of his fingertip. Not tightly enough to restrict but certainly snug enough that it blocked off the flow.

It may be a trifle uncomfortable, but there was no edged pleasure pain anymore-- and the ring would only regulate in comparison to how hard Bren became. In such a case where the werewolf was uninspired, the ring would remain but make nary an impression. ]

[Bren whimpered to Essek's lips as those fingers found their way around his prick, knowing full well that his mate was doing, but still having to stop himself from pressing into those hands. There was an ache, of course, when the ring was cinched into place with that finality of magic, but there was relief too that he wouldn't lose his grip on his self control in the next moment.

He shifted closer, winding his arms around Essek as he let his tongue drag along Essek's lower lip, soft and gentle.]

Thank you...

[He murmured softly right against that mouth, not seeing any reason to actually pause in kissing him.]

[ How Bren was able to bring out such softness in Essek, the world may never know. But while it was a mystery, it still was a reality and as such he slowly slipped his fingers from those trousers but not without a lingering touch of fingertip following that vein upward until he got to the slit. Then his thumb collected it and he pulled backward only so that he could run his tongue against the pad of it.

That cock ring made it easier for him to be a little bit bad. In fact tonight before bed, there may be a bit of edging involving Essek's lips and fingers in Bren's future. A sweet combination of heaven and hell. ]

You are my very good boy, Bren. And I will reward you tomorrow night when we get to the club--

[ He would be hungry and feral and because of that, he would be more than equipped to protect his mate. ]

[Bren watched Essek lick at his thumb and he had to fight back a whimper. At least the ring bound snugly around his prick meant that he wouldn't wind up spilling himself then and there. It did not ease the ache though, the need, and Essek was right. It would leave him on that edge of utterly feral, all instinct and desire and heaven help anyone who tried to come to close to his mate. The moon-called wolf in him would not stand for it, especially strung so far along this edge as he would be by then.

For now though, another low sound at the promise of reward -- except that very good boy was reward in and of itself.

He stepped in closer then, seeking Essek's lips with his own again.] Tomorrow night... I will try to be patient.

I have all the faith that you will be perfect.

[ Essek said and then as their lips collided, his mouth brushed so that the other man could taste precome, the sweetest essence. There was much for them to do however, at least much for Essek to do. It was clear that he would have to go into Rexxentrum, they would have to go in to sign any required paperwork, do a tour of the facility though since this was a night when the club was not opened. ]

Arrangements will be made for us to go into Rexxentrum--

[ Naturally, Bren would go with him; he would never leave the place without him. And it was because the bond was so strong. Honestly, Essek was not one who could let the other man out of his sight now, and his protectiveness was as fierce and as feral as that of Bren to him. ]

[The rest of the night was more than a bit of a blur. Bren would of course go wherever it was that Essek went without argument. This close to the full moon especially, he did not want to be separated from his mate. Not that it would be any different once the full moon had passed.

When the next night came, and Bren found himself still very much pent up and even more caught in the sway of the moon, he was certain that every last one of his senses had been amplified. The world was brighter and sharper, louder, and the only thing that soothed the restlessness in him was the scent of his mate, the sound of Essek's voice, the touch of his hand.

Of course, all those things were also a sweet torture given that he was still not allowed his release.

They arrived at the club in Essek's miraculously cleaned up car (given the state they'd left it in on their way back from the gala). Bren had never worn anything quite like what his mate had dressed him in. Black leather contrasted sharply against pale, freckled skin -- a lot more of which was showing than he'd expected, but the way that his mate had looked at him had soothed any uncertainty in him. The collar around his throat though, and the thin chain that hung from it and was currently held in Essek's hand, well that had somehow only made his still-ringed prick throb, at the show of ownership, the visible staking of a claim.

He knew, as they arrived, that all eyes were on them, and he could feel his hackles begin to rise the longer that attention lingered on Essek.]

[ The club had buzzed with the sudden scandal of a new owner, and the fact that a vampire had strolled in with an entourage of other vampires to clean up the place. It was not even a werewolf club anymore for word had gotten around that there would be the inclusion of several other supernatural subsets and thus it was no longer a safe space just for the wolves.

It was a safe space for all.

Essek slipped out of the car, wearing dark leather hot pants that showed a rather delicious amount of lavender skin, and then ankle high heeled boots, his own shirt was a sleeveless sweater that showed those slender arms. Around his waist rested a rather coy linked belt-- and indeed, the chain was held firm in his hand.

There was an equal attention on both of them, Bren was indeed drawing attention as well and Essek was not pleased at that, it made him clutch the chain a little more firm than he would otherwise. He'd overseen the hiring of all of the staff, he'd interrogated a few of the werewolves who had seemed the least hostile, and had prolonged their livelihood. (predominately he had used a truth spell to ascertain their opinions of Trent Ikithon, he would have no one loyal to Trent in this club)

As Bren entered the club, he wrapped an arm around that waist and leaned in, sending a very clear message that this man was his and under his protection. And then came the vampire that Essek had left in charge of the club, to lead them to their booth for the evening, a little alcove only reachable by a staircase and to which it was the prime spot to see and be seen, was tactically placed so that no one could sneak up on them and then allowed them to see everything going on amid the floor. ]

[Bren did not notice the eyes on him, far too preoccupied with the ones lingering on his mate -- whether they were gazes of lust (understandable but not to be tolerated) or of distrust and danger (absolutely unacceptable and to be dealt with by bloodshed if it came to it) he had to fight not to bare his teeth. Hell it might come to bloodshed if anyone thought that they could possibly approach his mate with those lustful eyes.

So the arm around his waist was very welcome and he shifted in closer as they were led to their secluded alcove. He relaxed, slightly. But only slightly.]

There are... many wolves here.

[He murmured softly, leaning close so his lips brushed Essek's ear as he spoke.] And the moon is calling loudly to all of us.

[A pause and he nuzzled at his mate's cheek.] But you are more beautiful than the moon could ever be.

[ A series of such intense sharpness went through him, but it had nothing to do with pain. It was mired in something deeper and more primal, especially when Bren uttered such things. Essek's keen senses could sense the very light rumble of a growl just before a cataclysmic earthquake, with the way that the testosterone spiked the air like drugs. And yet, Essek did not feel that it was such a bad idea to take Bren here to this club-- there were wards and protections in place underneath the surface.

Essek knew there were scrying cameras discreetly set up, likely so that Trent could monitor his little coterie of wolves to make sure they were furthering his cause even in places such as this. He'd caught it in the undertow of their walkthrough yesterday. But removing them was scheduled for tomorrow, with good reason. ]

If I asked you to dance with me--

[ There private alcove had a raised dais just for them to dance; but which many burning eyes could sink their gazes into the privilege of watching Bren grind up against his mate. Essek knew it would be folly of course to take Bren onto the floor where there were wolves swarming, many of who could not be trusted. ] Up there on the dais, you could show everyone that this Moon is yours--

My moon...

[Bren murmured, quite pleased with that idea. Yes. Essek was the moon and stars in his sky, and for a werewolf that was a powerful statement to make. But for Bren Ermendrud, for the man who had been Caleb Widogast, it was unequivocally true.]

I would dance with you anywhere you asked.

[Up on the dais in front of everyone, to the primal, thrumming beat of the bass-driven song. A far cry from the sweet, gentle waltz that they'd indulged in back in Widogast Manor this time though. No this would be the sort of dance that was carnality set to music, and Bren was hungry for it, still strung so precariously on that edge of desire since the day before.]

[ Let everyone understand that there was only one Alpha in this establishment, and it was Bren Ermendrud-- and he was mated perfectly to the Queen, set as his consort and as his mate. A union that should by all intents and purposes be forbidden-- except Essek was slowly teaching Bren that they made their own rules, and other people must adhere to it.

Those manicured fingernails reached for Bren's and then he drew him toward the raised platform, just below-- there was the entire floor. The writhing bodies and the bumping beat. Once up there, his fingers ran up and down the leather of those pants, the cock just underneath fabric where he knew it was tamed by the cock ring. ]

Show everyone down below who I belong to?

[ Even as with his free hand he gave the softest tug of that leash-- in what could be only a mutual claiming. An understanding that Essek would make sure everyone knew that they were both taken on all fronts. ]

[By all rights, they were meant to be enemies -- vampire, werewolf, eternally opposed. But there was no way they could be anything but made for each other, their souls bound beyond things so simple as rivalries, bound beyond life and death.

Bren followed after Essek, towards that dais. He did not hesitate to mold himself up against the drowpire, a low, pleased growl starting in his throat at the tug of that leash. That was right. He was Essek's, completely, body and soul. His own hand moved to settle at Essek's hip, drawing the other man closer, so there was no space left between them. Fingers gripped, pressing into supple leather and suppler flesh beneath.]

My love, my mate...

[He ducked his head, leaning in to brush his nose along Essek's cheek before nuzzling under his jaw, deliberately and visibly scenting him as they fell into the primal beat of the music. The wolves in the crowd would know it for what it was, would see the timeless dance of mates, the claims being staked.]

[ There was a soft gasp that exhaled from Essek's lips, a sound that was for Bren's ears only as he immediately felt himself being drawn into those arms, his arm rested over the back of that shoulder, the leather bit of that leash wrapped around his knuckles as he instantly fell into that beat, sliding his leg between Bren's thighs as he cheated his head toward the side so that the other man could brush against neck and jaw.

The scratch of beard unleashed something primal in him, and those marks made his skin lightly tingle with the pressure. Together as they danced, he felt Bren send the message to all the wolves down below that he was his; it was unavoidable and he understood the communications that happened just underneath the surface.

But Essek desired sending his own message and so after he had been suitable marked, his fingers lightly pressed underneath Bren's jaw and then upward before his own lips hunted and he scrapped against the sweet quivering pulse there, and then his tongue lapped-- feeling the throb, and he sucked and nibbled but did not bite. Such a message being sent as he tucked even closer into his werewolf, surrounded by the scent of his mate.

If he bit down on that neck, it would send a definite message to the wolves down below that their union was one of sex and power, and it was an equal and dark thing-- and that if they knew what was best, that they either backed their side or none at all. ]

[Bren's fingers shifted from Essek's hip to grip at his ass, to pull their hips closer together as they dance, a bit shameless in the way he was grinding against his mate, his ringed cock making its interest quite obvious. He was lost in the music, in the intoxicating scent of his lover, the feeling of Essek's body against his. Instinct compelled him and he did not fight it, the urge to touch, to move with Essek in a clear pantomime of something much more intimate.

Those fingers beneath his chin were as good as a command, and Bren complied eagerly, tilting his head up and to the side, baring his neck to Essek's attention. And here he was, a predator willingly showing his throat to another fanged beast.]

Please, Liebling...

[Bren breathed the words in a roughened, groan. For Essek to continue witht hat attention, to bite if he wished, to take whatever it was he wanted that Bren would eagerly give to him, without reservation or hesitation.]

[ Two predators.

Mates-- such a message would be sent loud and clear to anyone who watched; the spark of pheromones coming from their undulating bodies. Right against his own body, he could feel the hard press of cock of which was only separated by the fabric of their clothing and just barely enough. It was clear that if they suddenly became without clothes, they would possibly be on each other like two wild and feral animals.

When Bren begged, Essek obliged and so his teeth dug into flesh-- into that blood and then his arm swooped around that waist so that he could be the one to steady his mate; the tongue rolled sweetly onto his tongue and he lapped at is as if he was a cat whom had discovered the creampot. The other man was so pliant in his arms, the scent of sweat and musk spicing the air about him as he drank deeply.

If he did not have any plans for the booth, he would've certainly allowed Bren to take him right here, on his knees behind him as he drove into him with the beat of the music-- but there was something else on his mind and he wanted to send a very decisive message to Trent Ikithon; to let him know that Bren Wolf was not his any longer, crystal clear and unavoidable. ]

[Even with clothes still on, Bren wasn't exactly keeping his hands to himself. He was on that aching edge, and he could not seem to stop touching his lover, could not keep the thought of just how much he wanted Essek out of his mind or his eyes or his touch. It was not entirely subtle, but to hell with subtle. Let anyone watching see that magnetism and desire between mates, to know it for what it was.

His breath caught and he exhaled it in a shuddering moan as those fangs sank into his neck, the ecstasy that Essek's taking of blood brought with it. His eyes had fallen mostly shut, but he looked out over the dancefloor. They were being watched, of course, the werewolf offering himself willingly to the lips and fangs of a vampire.

And clearly enjoying himself in the process.

More than that, he loved the knowledge that Essek took sustenance from him, that soon he would be the reason for the warmth and flush of color in that beautiful lavender skin.]

[ There was the peaked murmuring of people talking about what they were seeing, of a werewolf willingly submitting to the Vampire; though they did not know the whole story-- they did not see how equally the Vampire had submitted to the Werewolf, had done it willingly and allowed him to imprint on him-- to mate with him.

Perhaps if they were lucky, they would get to see that-- eventually.

Right now though he was sending a valuable message to Trent Ikithon, that the wolf was his-- and that his hold on him was non-existant. He would not make the same mistakes that he had with Caleb, there would be no precaution he would not take-- but also, Trent made Bren into a deadly weapon, and thereby this was all his fault that his hand was bit. So he drank deeply of that warm vital blood, the spice of it on his tongue as his fingers gripped at the back of Bren's neck; the blood nearly pulsed in time with the beat of the music.

But Essek's body did not stop that grinding, the part of his leg finding Bren's thigh where he rubbed up against him wantonly. ]

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