[Thread] Blood

[papa_high_lord]

Characters: OU Saetan, OU Takion
Where: Mui-Okto
When: After this
Summary: Takion offers to let Saetan drink some blood. Saetan is emo.
Warnings: Emo, seniorshipping, etc etc.

Comments

[papa_high_lord]

"No, not the spider, although we do spin webs." Saetan replied, taking a seat and returning Takion's embrace gratefully. Physical contact had always been important to him, but there was just something special about the way he felt in Takion's arms.

"Black Widows can spin tangled webs of visions or to ensnare the mind." He explained, extending his right hand and flexing the ring finger slightly. The snaketooth slid out, its tip slick with poison. "We're immune to most poisons as well, and are actually rather venomous. That's why I wear my nails long and paint them; Daemon does the same." He explained, sliding the small fang back under his nail. "It hides the snaketooth, leaves it as a surprise last resort. Occasionally the venom thickens and it needs to be milked or it can crystallize painfully. After milking it, a Black Widow craves poison, which is what Daemon was talking about on your journal; something I find more than a little ironic as he knows almost nothing about the hourglass coven, and I'm it's High Priest." He added dryly. While Daemon's concern had been nice, it was more amusing than anything else. "Does that make any sense?" He asked.

[takion]

"It does," Takion murmured, resting his hand lightly on Saetan's palm. Very gently he trailed his fingers up the one finger that hid that particularly nasty surprise, but felt nothing that would give the snaketooth away. It was, indeed, a well-hidden little weapon.

Takion's gold eyes were bright with mischief as he added, "More interesting than dull calculus. Much more so." Then he gave Saetan's side a playful poke. "We should take care of the other business now before you waste away. You're all skin and bones and snaketooth, my dearest."

[papa_high_lord]

Saetan chuckled, allowing Takion's fingers to play lightly across his hand. "Well I'm glad you think so. I certainly still find it interesting even after all these years." He wasn't a natural Black Widow, like Daemon of Jaenelle. Training had been his price for becoming Cassandra's Consort all those thousands of years ago.

"Hell's Fire, Mother Night and may the Darkness be merciful," He grumbled without much real anger anymore. "You're as bad as Jaenelle." Except his daughter usually sat on him to make him drink her blood, something he was very grateful Takion had not done. The memory, along with the one of how hurt Jaenelle was when he refused, was what he needed to banish the last of his doubts about this. If given a choice between hurting Takion's feelings - or anyone's, really - and doing something that made him unhappy, he would always choose the latter.

[takion]

Takion mentally filed away Saetan's oaths, figuring he might need to use them sometime if Saetan ever left him as exasperated as he was no doubt leaving Saetan right now. That was a part of any relationship - the give and take, the grating on each other's nerves and the drying of tears.

"Someone has to make you take care of yourself, my dearest," Takion murmured, his expression still amused as he unbuttoned his shirt. Later, he promised himself, he would make this up to Saetan. He would take the time to find the words to bring him lamb's blood. Or maybe something more exotic. He wondered if Jabberwocky blood would be to Saetan's taste.

[papa_high_lord]

"Most people find this a bit disturbing, my dear," Saetan warned, knowing the words were not going to change Takion's mind at this point but needing to speak them anyways.

Reaching out, he deftly nicked, the skin of his throat, just enough o open a vein. He never simply sank his fangs into someone; it had always seemed too barbaric and uncivilized, too much like something Hekatah would do. Giving his lover one last apologetic look, he placed his lips over the wound and drank.

Guardians did not need blood in the sense the living needed food; only a few mouthfuls were enough to sustain him for some time. It was the life, the vitality in that blood that was what mattered.

[takion]

If he'd been given half a chance, Takion would have thoroughly scolded Saetan over that apologetic look. Takion might have lived a rather easy life, but he'd cut himself worse shaving. And besides, Saetan shouldn't have to feel like he should apologize for what he was and what he had to do. It was rather like a diabetic having to apologize for not being able to partake in the chocolate cake that everyone already knew he couldn't eat.

While Saetan took the little bit he needed, Takion started stroking his fingers through Saetan's hair. He found it frightfully easy to imagine that Saetan was merely giving him a rather long kiss on the neck, and that thought made him smile. "There, you see? Everything didn't come crashing down around your ears."

[papa_high_lord]

Saetan took a final swallow before pulling away and bushing a finger lightly across the wound, using healing Craft to mend it. Calling in a small bowl of water and a damp cloth that he always carried for just this purpose he gently sponged the faint smears of blood off of Takion's neck and his own lips before vanishing the items.

Leaning back down he brushed his lips lightly across the spot before burying his face against Takion's neck. What he was so often repulsed people that he was unspeakably grateful for his words. "I don't deserve you," He murmured fondly.

[takion]

"Oh pish-posh," Takion murmured dismissively to cover his embarrassment. He turned his head and planted a light kiss on Saetan's ear.

"You needed this," Takion whispered. What Takion didn't add was that he'd needed it too. Underneath his flippancy, he'd needed to know that he could lay his life in Saetan's hands. Liddell's betrayal had hurt Takion's willingness to really open himself up. Easier to hide behind a mask of flippancy and hold people at a distance. But Takion didn't want to hide anything from Saetan. He'd have let the High Lord have the very story written in his heart if it were asked of him.

[papa_high_lord]

Saetan sighed happily, nuzzling closer. Nothing could ever take away the sting of Luthvian's accusations, or the pain of loosing the young son he had loved. Even though he had finally been reunited with Lucivar five years ago, that short time had not been enough to erase the pain and loss of 1,700 years. Still, just the fact that he had given into Takion's offer was more than he had done with almost anyone else.

"I think I'm in danger of falling in love with you," He informed him softly.

[takion]

Takion cradled Saetan against him. They were two of a kind, he realized. Two lonely old men who had carefully put their own broken hearts back together. Takion had, until meeting Saetan, given up on finding anyone who could heal the wounds left by Liddell.

"And I think I'm in the same sort of danger," Takion murmured.

[papa_high_lord]

Saetan sighed contentedly, happy just to be held at the moment. How long had it been since someone had done that? Usually he was the one everyone rushed too for comfort when they had a problem. He was, after all, considered an adopted uncle by the coven and the boyos. His own personal heartbreaks and problems were just something he had to deal with on his own. And now all that had changed in such an unexpected and wonderful way.

"Good," He replied with a little smile.

[takion]

This was nice, just basking in another's presence. Loneliness may have brought them together, but that void was definitely being filled. Takion sighed contentedly, relishing this nearness.

A thought crossed Takion's mind, however, that darkened the happiness, and he held Saetan a little tighter, not wanting to let him go. "When... When this place finishes with us, I... do not know if I can survive in your world..."

[papa_high_lord]

"I often feel the same way about my world," Saetan replied dryly. What with the coven, the boyos, the kindred, his children, and the staff, there was never a dull moment in the Hall. He half believed if he ever returned from this place, there was a good chance it would no longer even be standing, what with them having been left unsupervised.

"It doesn't matter," He added fiercely, pulling Takion closer. "We'll worry about that if it happens, not now." The worst part was he knew he could not return with Takion, no matter how much he might want to. He was he High Lord of Hell, the High Priest of the Hourglass and the Warlord Prince of Dhemlan. Those were not responsibilities he could walk away from. Everything had a price.