FIC: "Casual" 1/2 (Changes, Part Fifteen) (Dave Wenham/Lawrence Makoare) PG-13

[azewewish]

Title: "Casual" 1/2
Authors: Brenda (azewewish) & Jo (idiosyncratic)
Series: Changes (Part Fifteen)
Pairing: Dave Wenham/Lawrence Makoare (Dave/Harry/Karl/Orlando)
Rating: PG-13
Warning: Vampires still don't exist. And we highly doubt that Dave and Lawrence ever met like this.
Summary: While on business in London, Dave starts to ponder his choices.
Notes: Thanks to the_stowaway for the beta and cheerleading.

Pleasure (Part One) | Discipline (Part Two) | Enthralled (Part Three) | Enslaved (Part Four) | Reciprocation (Interlude) | Arrogance (Part Five) | Simplicity (Part Six) | Reassurance (Part Seven) | Companion (Part Eight) | Watching (Part Nine) | Visit (Part Ten) | Vigilance (Part Eleven) | Welcome Home (Part Twelve) | Surprise (Part Thirteen) | Mechanics (Part Fourteen) | Casual (Part Fifteen) |



Possibly the worst thing about being Viggo’s second was that there was an obligation to show up at incredibly boring parties in otherwise very interesting places and make small talk with the sort of people that would make Marcus look interesting and succinct. Dave knew he was a lucky man most of the time, but on nights like this, in the ballroom of a prominent member of British Parliament, sipping expensive champagne and nibbling on even more expensive caviar, he would have sold his soul for a cold beer and a game of football on the telly and only Harry to keep him company.

Dave looked around, tried to figure out why Viggo had insisted he make an appearance at this function. Certainly, it paid to have strong ties with the mortal governments, but this was a lackey’s job. Beneath Dave’s station, if he was honest with himself. Besides, this sort of function was much more suited to a man like Marcus. To the manor bred, skilled at long-winded small talk, happy to nibble on canapés and discuss futures trading and the new accord with the Pakistani government. Instead, Dave was stuck listening to bad chamber music from the four-piece ensemble set up on the stage, with his best fake smile in place, quietly dying on the inside.

Shame Orlando wasn't there to liven things up. But no, Orlando was back in L.A. with Karl and Harry, and Dave was in London. On business for an undetermined length of time, or so Viggo had said, but Dave had seen the look that had flitted through Viggo's eyes before he'd turned back to his paperwork after giving him his assignment. There was more to this than just the normal business. Something was going on, something big, Dave would be willing to bet on it.

Truth be told, Dave hadn't much felt like arguing. He’d made the token protest, but nothing more. He reminded himself every night that he was the luckiest bastard on earth - and he knew he really was - but it wasn't enough. He still felt out of place, overwhelmed by everything, and totally unprepared. After five years, those feelings should have faded, not intensified.

And given how badly Dave had been screwing up with Orlando lately, if and when Harry found out about it, it was safer if there was an entire ocean between him and Harry's temper. Orlando deserved far better than Dave for a Sire, especially since Dave was barely out of fledgling status himself. He had no idea what he was doing, and he was tired of living in fear of the look of disappointment on Karl and Harry’s faces once they figured out that Orlando still hadn’t learned everything he needed to learn about his new, strange world. Not that Orlando realized anything was wrong, but then, that was part of the problem. Orlando didn't know the right questions to ask and Dave was lost without some sort of set of guidelines to keep him on the right path.

"Long faces don't go with parties, mate."

Dave turned at the comment and looked up. And up. Into dark eyes that held more than a hint of mischief. After an evening of air kisses and plastic smiles, the sight of genuine amusement threw Dave off his game completely. Was the man in front of him lost or at the wrong party entirely?

"I'm sorry?"

"Don't be, you haven't done anything worth regretting yet." The voice was a low rumble, smooth as molasses and just as soothing. The accompanying smile was wide, showed a hint of fangs, and unbelievably white teeth. The face surrounding the smile was strong-jawed, skin the color of mahogany with eyes that matched. Broad shoulders magnificently filled out a nicely understated hunter green suit, and the rest of the body more than lived up to the shoulders. The vampire in front of him made Harry look small.

"You might want to take this before everyone starts to wonder if I'm an alcoholic."

"Huh?" Glancing down, Dave saw the other man was patiently holding out a glass. "Uh, sorry." He took the glass and took a sip, then promptly choked.

A large hand clapped him on the back in a friendly gesture. "I take it vodka's not your drink, bra?"

"Not without a mixer," Dave wheezed. He coughed and choked for another moment, then wiped his eyes as he took deep, careful breaths. "Um, thanks...?"

"Lawrence." Dave took the offered hand, and his own was immediately engulfed. It was like shaking hands with a bear, only without the fur. The absurd mental image had Dave biting his lips to hold in the laughter. "Lawrence Makoare."

"David Wenham," was the automatic response as Dave slowly pulled his hand back, wondering at the almost electric shock he'd felt when Lawrence touched him. "But please. Call me Dave."

"I like Dave," Lawrence said, stroking his chin thoughtfully as he looked Dave over. "Think it'll roll right off the tongue while I'm moaning it as you suck my cock."

Suck my...? Dave blinked, shook his head. There was no way he’d heard that correctly. "I'm sorry?"

"Don't be." Lawrence swiped the tips of his fingers across Dave's lips, the touch fleeting. "Lips like these were made for cocksucking. I have a feeling you're a master at it."

"I...um..." Dave couldn't remember the last time he'd been speechless. Probably right after Harry'd kissed him, that first time. "I, uh, never had any, um, complaints," he replied, then immediately wanted the floor to swallow him whole.

What the hell was he doing, standing here discussing blowjobs with a total stranger, when he was bonded to not one, but two other vampires and had a third that was his responsibility as well as his lover? And where did this guy get the idea that Dave was going to...?

"I'm sorry," Dave finally managed to say, forehead wrinkling as he frowned, "but do we know each other?" Granted, he hadn't been alive so long that he as in danger of forgetting people he'd met, but anything was possible.

"Not yet," Lawrence said. "But we will by the end of the night. As intimately and in as many ways as possible. How flexible would you say you are?"

Flexible? Seriously, what the bleeding fuck? "Look, did Marcus put you up to this? Or Karl?" Dave asked, a sudden, horrifying thought occurring to him. What if this was some sort of pet test to see if he'd pass, or a practical joke? It wouldn't surprise him. Karl was always up to something.

"Don't know a Karl or a Marcus," Lawrence shrugged. "And in any case, they're not invited. I’m all for a good orgy from time to time, but I've got a feeling you'll be enough all on your own to satisfy all of my appetites."

"You look like you'd have pretty big appetites," Dave said. The second the words were out of his mouth, he groaned in embarrassment. Where in hell had that come from? Why in God’s name had he not ended this absurd conversation and gone on to do his duty rounds?

Lawrence threw back his head and laughed. The sound of it - the feel of it - was so familiar that Dave felt his heart skip a beat. "See, that's exactly what I'm talking about. A little bit of drinking, a little bit of flirting, then we go back to mine and I peel you out of that very delectable suit." Lawrence ran a finger along the material, and the light touch sent a shiver up Dave's spine.

"Who are you?" Dave asked, his voice barely above a whisper. There was no way he should be reacting this strongly to another vampire - hell, to anyone. He had his hands more than full with the men he was with.

Lawrence smiled again, softer, and something about it tugged at Dave's soul. "Told you, mate. Lawrence Makoare. And before you ask again, no, we've never met. Believe me, if we had, I'd have snatched you up long before now."

"I, uh..." Dave licked his lips, caught himself swaying towards Lawrence and immediately pulled back. No. This was absurd. There was no way he was going to even entertain the idea. He wasn't looking for a fling, no matter how enticing the man before him was. "I've already been snatched up, sorry."

"So that's what that is."

"What?" Any moment now, he’d regain his equilibrium. And his breath. "What what is?"

"Doesn't explain why there are three of 'em, though," Lawrence muttered as he took a step closer. Dave swallowed hard to keep from reacting. What the hell was wrong with him?

"Three of what?"

"The pulses," Lawrence said, and pressed a thumb to the hollow of Dave's throat. Heat instantly suffused Dave's entire being. "Although, you shouldn't have any at all..."

"I'm a pet," Dave blurted out, still trying to figure out just what the hell was happening to him.

"That's not..." Lawrence looked down at him in confusion. "You're a vampire. Only mortals are pets."

"Yeah, well, try telling Harry and Karl there are rules they need to abide by." Fuck. That sounded far more combative than he'd meant it to sound. He wasn’t angry; why would he have reason to be?

Lawrence's face cleared. His thumb slid along the underside of Dave's jaw. "Urban and Sinclair. Now I remember. You'd be theirs, then?"

"One of theirs."

"One... oh, yes, that's right. Which explains the third one." Lawrence bent his head, sniffed at Dave's neck, and Dave shuddered. When Lawrence lifted his head, his smile was dark and knowing. "You don't wear their bonds easily, child."

Unable to speak, Dave just shook his head. How had this stranger been able to discern what he hadn’t even been able to admit to himself?

"Is that why you're alone tonight?"

"Yes...I mean, no. No...I'm, um, here. On business. In London." Fucking hell, he was babbling and he knew it, but he couldn't form a coherent sentence right now if his life depended on it.

//Steady now, there's no rush.// The voice was soothing, calmed him almost instantly. The touch to his jaw turned into a caress as Lawrence cupped his cheek.

"Why don't we get the hell out of Dodge, find someplace private? I know a shady tequila bar where no one would bat an eye. You look like you could use an ear."

Dave knew he should refuse. There was no way he should leave with this strange vampire who spiked his heart rate and stuttered his breath. He wasn't looking for a quick fuck tonight, and there was no way that anyone else could be expected to understand a tale that he barely understood himself.

No one was more shocked than Dave at the next words out of his mouth.

"Yeah, alright."

***

The bar - more dive than actual bar, really - was dark and definitely on the dodgy side. Which was exactly what Lawrence had said, so Dave couldn't complain. He looked around. The bar was one long, scarred, wood counter; the patrons, all of whom eyed Dave suspiciously, looked as if they'd lived hard and played even harder; and the walls were dingy and covered in graffiti and old band posters. He followed Lawrence to a booth all the way in the back, wondering how he'd ended up here. Feeling more than a little out of place, he slid into the booth. Somehow, he wasn't surprised when Lawrence slid in right beside him.

"I, um, think I'll let you order," Dave said, with a small smile. "Not my usual kind of place."

"No doubt." Lawrence nodded at a passing barmaid. She looked like someone straight out of a gothic porn flick, complete with the pleather mini and corset that showed off a rather impressive set of tits. "Randi," Lawrence said, in greeting.

"Lawrence." Gum smacked when Randi smiled, toothy and genuine. "Been far too long. Who's the doll?"

"This is Dave. Dave, I'd like you to meet Randi."

"Pleasure," Dave said, trying his best not to squirm under the mortal's very direct stare. He had the unpleasant sensation of being tested, and wasn't sure if he'd pass.

"Usual?" Randi finally asked, turning back to Lawrence.

"That'd be fine, thank you."

"I take it you're a regular," Dave said, breath catching when Lawrence turned to focus on him. Fuck, but it was hard to think with the weight of those eyes bearing down on him.

"You could say that," Lawrence laughed. He just lounged back in his seat as Randi returned with their drinks - a bottle of agave tequila and two glasses - and flashed them another bright smile before departing. At least the service was fast. "Now, about those bonds of yours."

Dave tried again not to squirm. He was still trying to figure out why he was there, with a vampire he'd just met, and why it was so hard to talk about something that was a big part of his life. "Yeah?"

"Look, you don't have to talk about this." Lawrence poured them each a healthy shot. "We’ve got ourselves a full bottle, we got all night, and my plans begin and end with getting to know you better in a variety of pornographic ways. But, I've been told I'm a good listener."

Dave was positive he was red to his hairline. There was no way Lawrence could miss it. One of the drawbacks to having such fair skin. "I, um, I'm flattered. But...it's complicated."

"Aren't relationships always complicated?" Lawrence watched him over the rim of the glass, eyes dark and steady, and Dave felt himself slowly relaxing. "So how'd you get yourself bound to the two of them and their mortal pet anyway?"

Dave looked down, took a breath. Picked up his glass, tossed the contents back, and grimaced at the taste. Fuck, but he hated tequila. He shook his head in an effort to clear it as Lawrence poured him another shot. "I thought," he said, finally, voice only a little raspy from the alcohol, "that I was in love with Harry."

"And now?"

"And now..." Dave's throat burned on the next shot, and he shuddered. "Now, I'm still in love with Harry. I probably always will be. But it's...complicated," he echoed, laughing a little at himself.

"Complicated how?"

No judgment, just simple curiosity. It somehow made it easier to continue. "I hadn't really counted on Karl and Orlando. And being Orlando's Sire."

"You've sired a fledgling?" Lawrence put down his glass with a sharp thunk. "You're still a fledgling yourself. You aren't ready for that sort of responsibility."

"A fact," Dave said, tipping his glass and watching the alcohol swirl inside it, "that I'm aware of. Now. It made perfect sense then."

"How so?"

Lawrence nudged Dave's hand and Dave drank before holding his glass out for another shot. Maybe if he tried hard enough, he could actually get drunk. Sometimes being a vampire, with a vampire's faster metabolism and strength, was a real drawback. "Completing the circle. Making us all equal, with equal bonds. Something like that, so Karl said. Or was it Harry?"

"Suppose it would make sense," Lawrence nodded. "But there wasn't any hurry in having you do it right away. This Orlando was already a bound pet, yes?"

"Yeah," Dave rasped. He was starting to feel slightly light-headed.

Lawrence started rubbing the back of Dave's neck, the motion seemingly absent-minded. "Then his aging process was already at a crawl. Was he ill or was there some need for urgency?"

"No, no urgency." Whatever Lawrence was doing was making his bones dissolve. Dave quite liked the feeling. And he quite liked the feel of Lawrence's hand on his skin. Remembering, Dave lifted his head and reached for his glass. He smiled. "Boy, was Viggo pissed."

"Why?"

"Didn't get permission to give him the Gift."

"Didn't get..." Lawrence's eyes grew wide. It would have been comical, except that Dave was feeling far too relaxed to laugh. "But giving someone the Gift requires the Head of Council's approval, at the very least, if not an outright vote."

"I know this and you know this and hell, Harry and Karl knew this. They're on the fucking Council." Dave's head flopped, almost of its own accord, to Lawrence's shoulder. He wondered if he was drunk. "But they couldn't say no to Orli."

Gentle lips brushed against his forehead. "If this Orlando is anything like you, I have to say I understand where they were coming from."

Dave shook his head. Then he shifted. Fuck this. He squirmed his way beneath Lawrence's arm, relaxing as the heavy weight settled across his shoulders. "He's not like me at all," he said, tipping his head to breathe in Lawrence's scent. Warm and spicy and earthy, and it made him even more light-headed. "He's perfect for them. Stands up to Karl, teases Harry, doesn't let them take themselves too seriously. And fuck, the child is beautiful."

"I have no doubt." Then Lawrence's face swam into view, far closer than it was a moment ago. "But he's not you." The next moment, warm lips were on his, and a soft tongue fluttered against his mouth, seeking entrance. With a small sigh, Dave opened up to meet it.

The kiss was like nothing Dave had ever experienced. It was a slow burn that started somewhere around his middle and grew, creeping over his body until Dave was sure his very bones were going to turn to ash. It was nothing like the kisses he'd received from Harry or Karl, or even Orlando. This was something different, something more. And there was an odd purity about it that made Dave's soul ache.

When the kiss ended, Dave found his hands curled tight in the lapels of Lawrence's jacket. If not for Lawrence's arm around his waist, he'd have toppled over onto the table. As it was, Dave was having a very hard time remembering he was bonded...and an even harder time remembering why he shouldn't just strip off his clothes and beg Lawrence to fuck him senseless.

"Not here," Lawrence murmured, with another soft kiss. "When we're done here, then I'll take you home and take my time over every delectable inch of you." The arm around his waist tightened as Lawrence nuzzled another kiss to the nape of Dave's neck, and inhaled. "Christ, you have the sweetest blood."

"Jesus..." It was barely more than a whimper. Dave felt like a marionette, pulled by strings he couldn't see. He closed his eyes, blindly sought Lawrence's lips for another kiss. This one, just as slow and voluptuous, was even better than the first.

When his eyes fluttered open the second time, Lawrence's small, genuine smile was the first thing he saw. "You don't kiss like a man with strong ties to another," Lawrence said.

At those words, something shifted inside of Dave. "Maybe I don't."

He leaned in, nuzzled the soft skin just below Lawrence's jaw. His fangs grazed Lawrence's throat, and Dave just sat there like that for a moment, his breath warm on Lawrence's skin, the scent of blood, thick and rich, filling his nostrils. "Maybe," he said again, voice low and husky, "they're not as strong as I thought."

"And why," Lawrence asked, tilting his head to allow Dave unfettered access, "do you suppose that is?"

The question - calmly delivered - snapped through some of the lust and need coursing through Dave's system. He frowned, fangs retracting as he leaned back, just far enough so he could think. "I don't know."

"I think you do. I just don't think you want to put it out there."

"Maybe I don't," Dave said, and frowned. "And maybe I really don't know."

"Or maybe," Lawrence said, hand tight on the back of Dave's neck. He pulled Dave close again, leaned in to nuzzle his neck, and Dave shivered as sharp fangs pressed against his skin. "Maybe you've been lying to yourself for the last few years, and you're not ready to admit it."

"L-lying about...what?" Fuck, it was hard to think with Lawrence right there, fangs hovering over Dave's pulse, and it took all he had to keep from tipping his head back, baring his throat.

The words reverberated through him like a shot. "Why it is that you're here with me, ready to offer me your body and your blood, when you're so deeply in love with a man that you were willing to accept his bondmate and his pet in order to get him?"

"Because it feels right."

His body was so taut he was practically vibrating. He knew Lawrence had to sense it. Full lips curved into a smile against his neck as sharp fangs pricked his skin once more.

"Not good enough," and the words were a growl that had Dave's eyes closing, his body relaxing.

"Because," Dave whispered, head tilting just a fraction to the side, "he...they aren't what I..." Need, want, he wasn't sure which. Not that it mattered.

He whimpered slightly as the fangs withdrew, and gentle lips took their place. The caress left him shaken. "There now," Lawrence murmured, "that wasn't so hard."

"No, it..." His eyes snapped open as awareness flooded his brain. "Jesus."

Lawrence settled back against the cracked leather cushion of the booth, and poured them both another shot. "I don't normally go through this much trouble for a bit of fun. We wouldn't be here like this if all I wanted was you on your knees for me."

The shot remained on the table, untouched. Dave shifted around a little, slid back to put some space between himself and Lawrence. And then he studied Lawrence for several long minutes. "Why?" he finally asked.

"Why what?"

"If you don't want me on my knees, then what do you want?"

Lawrence raised his own glass in a toast. "Well, that's what we're here to find out." When he was finished with the shot, his lips shiny wet from the tequila. Dave fought the urge to lick at the droplets with his tongue.

"Find out what?"

"It's like this. I watched you for an hour tonight before I walked up to you. Studied you. Couldn't take my eyes off of you, if I'm being honest." Lawrence tapped a finger on the table. "I know what lust is. I know what love feels like. But this...I don't know what this is yet. But I want to find out."

"Perhaps you're just looking for a companion," Dave offered.

"Dave." Lawrence waited until Dave lifted his head, met his gaze. "I wasn't looking. But once I saw you, I couldn't stop myself."

"I shouldn't feel like this," Dave whispered. "Shouldn't want...this...you... I'm bonded, and I should not be imagining the things going through my head right now."

"And what would those things be?"

"Me. You. Gorging myself on your blood, giving you mine..." Dave would have to have been blind and mortal to miss the way Lawrence's nostrils flared. "You fucking me until I can't remember a time when you weren't."

"Sounds like a nice start," Lawrence replied, his voice a low rumble that felt like it was hard-wired to Dave's cock.

"I'm sensing a but in there, or we would already be on our way out the door."

"Smart and gorgeous, that's a good combination." Then Lawrence dropped a heavy hand over Dave's, neatly trapping it. "We're not naked and feasting on each other because I may be many things, not all of them good, but I've never been a thief."

"I...what? Thief?" Dave's forehead wrinkled in confusion. What the bloody hell was Lawrence talking about? "I don't understand. I'm here, I'm offering myself..."

Lawrence squeezed Dave's hand. "The only person I want to fuck is you. When I lay you on my bed, I don't want your Harry or Karl or Orlando in the room with me or in your mind or anywhere else. I don't take what's not mine to have, not even from strangers."

"Then maybe you should let me leave." Perhaps this had been some sort of test, and he'd been naïve enough to fall for it. "I can’t break my bonds, even assuming I wanted to, nor am I some newly made infant who can't keep others out of my head. The only people ever in my bed are the ones I choose to allow."

"I was wondering when I'd see this side of you." Far from being annoyed, Lawrence looked positively proud. "It was a legitimate concern. The pet bond is inviolate between vampires and mortals. A true mortal pet wouldn't feel any attraction for another vampire."

"I'm not mortal," Dave snapped. He drained his last shot in one gulp, not even feeling the burn. "And I'm not a normal pet."

"No, you're not," Lawrence mused. "Lucky for me."

A legitimate concern? Dave frowned. If it had been a concern, Dave would never have allowed the second kiss, let alone Lawrence's fangs anywhere near his throat. Part of him wanted to point out the fallacy in Lawrence's argument on the inviolate nature of the pet bond - Orlando being very much mortal when he'd bonded with two vampires - but the larger part of him focused on Lawrence's last words.

"Lucky for you? What's that supposed to mean?"

Lawrence laughed, the sound low and rich, like warm butter over bread. "Nothing. It's just that it's lucky for me you're not a typical pet, since that's not what I want from you."

"So what, exactly, are you looking for?" Dave watched Lawrence carefully, tried not to be drawn under his spell again. That was nearly impossible, though, when Lawrence smiled at him, and those gentle fingers slid over his skin. All Dave could do was imagine how those hands would feel as they explored his body. "I mean, sex is the obvious answer, but I doubt you'd be this interested in knowing more about a one night stand."

"Told you," Lawrence said, and brushed a light kiss across Dave's parted lips, "I want to explore whatever this is between us. Because there is something here, despite your bonds. I think you'd be a mystery worth figuring out."

"Then why are we still here?"

Lawrence's only response was to motion Randi over and to toss a few bills onto her tray. "Cab or would you like to walk to mine?"

"Cab, definitely," Dave replied. Already, he could feel the need punching into him like a fist.

Lawrence's teeth gleamed in promise when he smiled. "I was hoping you'd say that."

Continued Here