Secret-Keeper, Legacy of Kain, R, Yaoi, Vorador/Janos
Title: Secret-Keeper
Author: Emerald Embers
Fandom: Legacy of Kain
Type: Yaoi
Pairing: Vorador/Janos
Rating: R for yaoi and bad language
Disclaimer: Non-profit fan-fiction - Eidos & Crystal own these guys arses, not me.
Notes: All 60 minutes used. Am furious with my brother though, interrupting me repeatedly >.<, so I shall blame him for my running out of time near the end and buggering it up slightly. All hail Catholic Guilt T.M. for helping me with this fic!
Janos clung to his fledgling's arms with a steely grip to prevent himself taking off as his wings flew up, spasming along with his other limbs as he came across Vorador's chest, crying out the younger vampire's name as though it were his Messiah's. Vorador followed him in orgasm soon after, filling him, making him almost want to beg mercy for his already over-worked nerves. He wanted to ease off his fledgling now and collapse onto the bed gracelessly, to just sleep there and recover. But Janos knew full well he had to go. He had to return to the aerie and continue his vigil over the Reaver; he had been gone too long already.
It was not fair, and he knew it; Vorador did not deserve to be treated like his personal whore, abandoned so soon after they had been this intimate with one another. But it had to be; Vorador had given up life in the aerie long ago to take up his own personal crusade, protecting 'his kind' from extermination - the Ancients had long since died out, and Vorador did not want the Mades to follow. Granted, the two of them had agreed that their doors would always remain open to one another - but they had both known Vorador would never return for any length of time. He had felt cramped in the aerie and had needed his freedom, even if it was within the confines of an increasingly dark and dreary wetland. Equally, Vorador knew Janos would never stay for long in the swamp - the Reaver, as always, was a priority. There was never a third person in their relationship - Janos had no issues about their relationship when considering his long-dead wife. He knew she would have forgiven him.
But there was always a third entity.
Vorador brushed a lock of silver-streaked hair away from Janos' eyes before leaning in to kiss him on the lips. "Your hair gets shorter every time I see you these years," he remarked with a wry smile. "Another few centuries and you'll be shaving your head like a human monk. Mind you, I have not missed its length. Your hair used to tickle like hell." Janos laughed a little at that before running his right claws over Vorador's ears.
"While we're describing changes, these are still getting larger. I was prepared to dislike them, but the short hairs make them quite..." Janos' smirk showed off his fangs, he knew full well Vorador despised being described in this manner; "Cute."
"Bastard," Vorador growled, though the nuzzle he gave Janos' neck didn't really match up to his tone. "Fly on back to your aerie then, you've no use here."
"Maybe you're right," Janos replied, his tone sadder this time. "I saw some rather... intriguingly dressed fledglings before. I hope their company is entertaining you."
"I wish your bitterness was deserved, Janos. Most of them are duller than the landscape outside, and at least you get frogs out there. No spark at all." A smile again before he helped Janos get out of his lap, taking the opportunity to get a good picture of his sire's naked body while still slicked with sweat and come. A quiet glimmer of happiness in his eyes at the knowledge he could still make Janos look like that, given enough time.
Janos stretched before turning around, adding to Vorador's enjoyment of his current view, before walking to the window, tapping his claws lightly against the glass-less window frame. "I should leave. Sometimes I wish you hated me, it would make going away easier."
"Have you ever considered that might be my intention?"
"Hm. Now who's the bastard?"
Vorador grinned evilly before getting up off the bed and stretching himself, walking over to Janos and sliding an arm around his sire's waist, resting his head on Janos' shoulder. "One of these days, either you'll give up looking after the Reaver, or your Messiah will finally turn up, and you'll be free to move wherever you want. I'm just insuring my position as the first person you'll look to once you're free."
Janos smiled uneasily, before brushing his claws against the ones Vorador had settled against his stomach. "Perhaps." He tilted his head back, hair brushing against Vorador's cheek for a brief moment, then straightened up and picked his robes off the hanger by Vorador's window. His gut twisted with guilt as he dressed; Vorador didn't yet know that Janos was fated to die brief moments after greeting the Reaver of Souls and explaining his Messianic purpose. It was strange - he had been able to tell the Seer, the one time they met, about his forthcoming death. But then, she would not mourn him for long after he passed away - she was painfully used to death and suffering. Vorador, no matter how much he tried to get rid of his human attachments, still had a heart that could be broken. Janos' secret-keeping was perhaps the most selfish act he had ever inflicted on Vorador. He was the only one to benefit - never seeing Vorador's suffering when he found out Janos could die; and never having to look in Vorador's eyes and see death's shadow there when they made love.
Clothes now on, Janos lifted the frame away from the window and cast aside the spell that kept what looked like an easy entrance better protected than it would be by glass. Before he made to leave, however, Vorador placed a hand on Janos' shoulder and gripped it tightly. "You want to cry." The older vampire turned, expression slightly shocked as he lowered the window frame to the ground. "Janos, please. Tell me why." Janos shook his head and brushed a claw lightly down Vorador's cheek, twirling some of the hairs on his fledgling's chin into a small point with it.
"You know I can't," He replied with a slight smile, before moving his hand away and climbing out through the window, his feet finding the cold balcony floor less disconcerting than Vorador's carpet was; the aerie was mostly composed of similar surfaces. "I'll tell you later." Keeping his back to Vorador as he stretched out his wings, preparing to leap off the balcony and begin his flight back to the aerie, he added wryly, "When you're older."
Vorador narrowed his eyes as he replaced his window frame, waiting for Janos to leave before casting the protection spell again over the window. Some day Janos would realise he knew full well that there was something beyond just looking after the Reaver that kept the two of them from being together most of the time. Whether Janos acted on this or not was another matter altogether; his sire seemed to almost feed off his own guilt. Leaning against the wall, Vorador raised a hand lazily to gesture in Janos' direction. "I still love you." Casual tone. He did actually love his sire, but he was more interested in Janos' reaction than in expressing his feelings. Tensing of the shoulders, twitching of the wings. Denial.
"I know," Janos replied stiffly, before finally taking off, leaving Vorador with his own thoughts. And you don't want to.
- End
Author: Emerald Embers
Fandom: Legacy of Kain
Type: Yaoi
Pairing: Vorador/Janos
Rating: R for yaoi and bad language
Disclaimer: Non-profit fan-fiction - Eidos & Crystal own these guys arses, not me.
Notes: All 60 minutes used. Am furious with my brother though, interrupting me repeatedly >.<, so I shall blame him for my running out of time near the end and buggering it up slightly. All hail Catholic Guilt T.M. for helping me with this fic!
Janos clung to his fledgling's arms with a steely grip to prevent himself taking off as his wings flew up, spasming along with his other limbs as he came across Vorador's chest, crying out the younger vampire's name as though it were his Messiah's. Vorador followed him in orgasm soon after, filling him, making him almost want to beg mercy for his already over-worked nerves. He wanted to ease off his fledgling now and collapse onto the bed gracelessly, to just sleep there and recover. But Janos knew full well he had to go. He had to return to the aerie and continue his vigil over the Reaver; he had been gone too long already.
It was not fair, and he knew it; Vorador did not deserve to be treated like his personal whore, abandoned so soon after they had been this intimate with one another. But it had to be; Vorador had given up life in the aerie long ago to take up his own personal crusade, protecting 'his kind' from extermination - the Ancients had long since died out, and Vorador did not want the Mades to follow. Granted, the two of them had agreed that their doors would always remain open to one another - but they had both known Vorador would never return for any length of time. He had felt cramped in the aerie and had needed his freedom, even if it was within the confines of an increasingly dark and dreary wetland. Equally, Vorador knew Janos would never stay for long in the swamp - the Reaver, as always, was a priority. There was never a third person in their relationship - Janos had no issues about their relationship when considering his long-dead wife. He knew she would have forgiven him.
But there was always a third entity.
Vorador brushed a lock of silver-streaked hair away from Janos' eyes before leaning in to kiss him on the lips. "Your hair gets shorter every time I see you these years," he remarked with a wry smile. "Another few centuries and you'll be shaving your head like a human monk. Mind you, I have not missed its length. Your hair used to tickle like hell." Janos laughed a little at that before running his right claws over Vorador's ears.
"While we're describing changes, these are still getting larger. I was prepared to dislike them, but the short hairs make them quite..." Janos' smirk showed off his fangs, he knew full well Vorador despised being described in this manner; "Cute."
"Bastard," Vorador growled, though the nuzzle he gave Janos' neck didn't really match up to his tone. "Fly on back to your aerie then, you've no use here."
"Maybe you're right," Janos replied, his tone sadder this time. "I saw some rather... intriguingly dressed fledglings before. I hope their company is entertaining you."
"I wish your bitterness was deserved, Janos. Most of them are duller than the landscape outside, and at least you get frogs out there. No spark at all." A smile again before he helped Janos get out of his lap, taking the opportunity to get a good picture of his sire's naked body while still slicked with sweat and come. A quiet glimmer of happiness in his eyes at the knowledge he could still make Janos look like that, given enough time.
Janos stretched before turning around, adding to Vorador's enjoyment of his current view, before walking to the window, tapping his claws lightly against the glass-less window frame. "I should leave. Sometimes I wish you hated me, it would make going away easier."
"Have you ever considered that might be my intention?"
"Hm. Now who's the bastard?"
Vorador grinned evilly before getting up off the bed and stretching himself, walking over to Janos and sliding an arm around his sire's waist, resting his head on Janos' shoulder. "One of these days, either you'll give up looking after the Reaver, or your Messiah will finally turn up, and you'll be free to move wherever you want. I'm just insuring my position as the first person you'll look to once you're free."
Janos smiled uneasily, before brushing his claws against the ones Vorador had settled against his stomach. "Perhaps." He tilted his head back, hair brushing against Vorador's cheek for a brief moment, then straightened up and picked his robes off the hanger by Vorador's window. His gut twisted with guilt as he dressed; Vorador didn't yet know that Janos was fated to die brief moments after greeting the Reaver of Souls and explaining his Messianic purpose. It was strange - he had been able to tell the Seer, the one time they met, about his forthcoming death. But then, she would not mourn him for long after he passed away - she was painfully used to death and suffering. Vorador, no matter how much he tried to get rid of his human attachments, still had a heart that could be broken. Janos' secret-keeping was perhaps the most selfish act he had ever inflicted on Vorador. He was the only one to benefit - never seeing Vorador's suffering when he found out Janos could die; and never having to look in Vorador's eyes and see death's shadow there when they made love.
Clothes now on, Janos lifted the frame away from the window and cast aside the spell that kept what looked like an easy entrance better protected than it would be by glass. Before he made to leave, however, Vorador placed a hand on Janos' shoulder and gripped it tightly. "You want to cry." The older vampire turned, expression slightly shocked as he lowered the window frame to the ground. "Janos, please. Tell me why." Janos shook his head and brushed a claw lightly down Vorador's cheek, twirling some of the hairs on his fledgling's chin into a small point with it.
"You know I can't," He replied with a slight smile, before moving his hand away and climbing out through the window, his feet finding the cold balcony floor less disconcerting than Vorador's carpet was; the aerie was mostly composed of similar surfaces. "I'll tell you later." Keeping his back to Vorador as he stretched out his wings, preparing to leap off the balcony and begin his flight back to the aerie, he added wryly, "When you're older."
Vorador narrowed his eyes as he replaced his window frame, waiting for Janos to leave before casting the protection spell again over the window. Some day Janos would realise he knew full well that there was something beyond just looking after the Reaver that kept the two of them from being together most of the time. Whether Janos acted on this or not was another matter altogether; his sire seemed to almost feed off his own guilt. Leaning against the wall, Vorador raised a hand lazily to gesture in Janos' direction. "I still love you." Casual tone. He did actually love his sire, but he was more interested in Janos' reaction than in expressing his feelings. Tensing of the shoulders, twitching of the wings. Denial.
"I know," Janos replied stiffly, before finally taking off, leaving Vorador with his own thoughts. And you don't want to.
- End