a vampire au for ceaselesslabor

[entirelymyown]

Vampires are immune to every illness, can heal from any injury, withstand almost any damage... other than ennui. The vampire who's only heard himself called 'master' for far too long, whose terrible power rolls before him and sets others of his kind trembling...

Is absolutely no different in this regard.

He is ancient and terrible and he has a great court within the city that bores him to tears. Which is why he'd snuck out from their compound and gone, of all things, bar-hopping. Thus meeting Arthur and his partner.

It had been simple enough to get his partner out of the way; a call to one of his court had the man bundled up and carted off, a snack for later. The lack of a companion had made luring Arthur to the back entrance, the one with the alleyway, the one he could enjoy a meal in peace in, even easier than it might have been.

...and then he'd tasted the man's life. Tasted the depths of sorrows in him, the death that surrounded him, the strange shining light, dim and flickering but unwilling to go out, that was the shape of his soul.

Which was why, feeling almost possessed, he'd found himself ripping his arm open and pressing the bloody wound to Arthur's pale lips.

And now, here he was, his new fledgeling in his bed, waiting for him to awaken. He had stirred earlier, only enough to be hungry and only enough for the familiar scent of his friend to guide his fangs where they belonged. He'd been proud as he watched Arthur drink the life from him with the same gusto that he'd tasted himself. And now, the connection to his old life severed, he'd be ready to share the night with him truly.

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[ceaselesslabor]

He wants to argue, wants to fight that, but John keeps going and Arthur doesn't want to go back to it yet. He'll have to just prove it to him.

"Imprisoning her is worse than killing. At least with killing, there's an end date," he mutters, pulling his hand from John's to shove in the pockets of the trousers. He doens't like that arrangement, though. Where does it all end? He wouldn't be surprised if Kalli found herself having some sort of emergency somewhere else in the world or falling off a cliff.

[entirelymyown]

"It doesn't matter anyway," he says firmly, "because by the time he gets back there, she'll almost certainly have things consolidated under her. She won't wait for him to fly back tomorrow evening."

He's heading for the media room. And changing the subject.

"You didn't like him touching me."

[ceaselesslabor]

It does matter!

It matters so much!

Arthur wants to scream, but he chooses to grumble his opinion. John knows best, he thinks a little bitterly. It just strengthens his resolve to learn as much as he can as quickly as he can.

"Uh - "

That wasn't the question he was expecting to be asked.

"He was looking at you like you were just - just a means to an end. Like he was going to use you."

[entirelymyown]

Does he? Or has he been convinced of his own need to stay out of things, his own useless opinions and outdated feelings, that he does more harm than good?

John doesn't look troubled by that assessment, though. He nods.

"He was." He looks away then. "I... the timing is strange, that it would happen so quickly. I'll have spans of five or ten years without a visit from anyone." He shakes that off. "It's just... nice to be remembered. To have a visitor." A soft huff. "He's never seen someone else here, to be honest. It's no wonder it threw him off."

[ceaselesslabor]

"Yeah, John, I don't think that was the reason." He opens the door to the media room for him.

"But he can go to hell for all I care," he mutters, looking past John and down the hallway, as if afraid that someone might just creep up on them again. As if something bad might happen. He's on alert, teeth itching.

[entirelymyown]

A small snort.

"I can tell."

And he walks in, looking around to see what Arthur might be looking for. But when he feels the tension, the alertness, he steps closer to Arthur, places a hand on his shoulder to rub absently.

"Something else troubling you?"

[ceaselesslabor]

"No. I'm - I'm a little hyped up, I think," he explains, looking to that hand. "I was tired, but I don't think I am anymore."

He keeps a hand on the door and chuckles. "And I just realized I left my clothes down in the cave."

[entirelymyown]

"At least they're not in the cave," he points out, even as he gives his shoulder a little rub, trying to comfort.

He will wave that off, though.

"We can fetch them tomorrow. You brought some in your bags, after all. And you can always use something of mine." A soft huff of amusement. "You would probably sleep better in my clothing than your own."

[ceaselesslabor]

Sometimes Arthur sleeps naked.

He had no intention of doing so here, but...what if he did? He lets the thought cross his mind, just briefly, and reaches up to put a hand on John's.

"Is that an invitation?"

[entirelymyown]

He leans down and makes sure he has Arthur's eyes with his own.

"Always."

[ceaselesslabor]

Looking back, Arthur will never be able to pinpoint what made him say that. It's a fairly cheesy line, to be certain, and the response was - well, not predictable. But it has the predictable effect in that it startles Arthur to silence for a moment before he moves out from under his touch.

He doesn't look away.

"I told you. I'm not - a one night stand kind of guy," he says firmly, clarifying exactly what he had taken offense to before.

[entirelymyown]

That earns him a deep, rich, slightly evil-sounding laugh.

"And what about 'always' sounds like 'one night'?"

[ceaselesslabor]

He should tell John that he doesn't know what he wants.

Except...he has the feeling that John hears that a lot. That he's been made to doubt himself. Lobon had been uncomfortable because he had been asked questions. Pressed. And not by John.

John doesn't ask questions because he just assumes everyone already knows best. That they do what they do and he isn't a part of it. But Arthur isn't going to let that slide. But nor is he going to continue to pretend that he isn't insanely attracted to this creature who could keep him alive for a thousand years in constant agony. He isn't going to pretend that he doesn't feel attraction to him that goes well beyond the physical.

"Pick a western," Arthur tells him and chooses a chair to sit in.

[entirelymyown]

"In general or for tonight?" He pauses then and looks back at Arthur. "All right, I have something."

And he's going to pull out a somewhat off-kilter choice.

"Any objections?"

[ceaselesslabor]

"Jack Nicholson?"

He sits up a little, peering closer at it, though it's an old human habit now rather than a necessity. He can see every pixel on that case if he looked hard enough.

"None," he agrees, sitting back again.

[entirelymyown]

He grins at that.

"Never seen this one?" He chuckles again but he'll put it into the machine before trotting over to settle next to Arthur to watch.

"I watched it for the first time during it's television release. I was livid I couldn't see it on a proper screen."

Less of a problem since he has a projection television in here.

[ceaselesslabor]

Arthur looks over to him and frowns a little, but not because he's sitting. He's frowning because he doesn't understand how he's supposed to pay attention to the movie when John is right there. And Arthur is still a little hyped up about what happened.

He does reach over to take his hand, thinking that will help.

[entirelymyown]

And John will entwine their fingers together happily.

When he senses some of the tension-

"You can lay your head down. Maybe that will help you relax, mmm?"

If he does, he'll get his hair gently petted, his scalp carefully scritched.

[ceaselesslabor]

He thinks about it and desperately wants to, but -

"That's asking for trouble," he points out, stretching one leg out as the film starts and he can't quite seem to get comfortable. Or maybe he is getting too comfortable. He fidgets with his other hand, not bored but unable to settle.

[entirelymyown]

John will laugh again, softer, but he won't argue. Instead, he's going to lay back to watch.

[ceaselesslabor]

Arthur does as well, eventually sinking into a bit of a rest. He leans his head against John's shoulder instead, finding that's a good compromise as he watches. He can't pay attention to it, though. The strange feeling of John's body against him is distracting. The scene in the parlor replays over and over in his head. He can still feel the cat, warm against his chest. He can feel the way John's hand squeezed his tightly as they swam together in the lake.

He doesn't think he's going to do it until he's moving for it, but then he sits up and leans over to kiss him.

[entirelymyown]

John is surprised. Mostly because while he's felt that hunger, he's also felt Arthur resisting it. The kiss itself is soft, sweet even, and he decides to return it in kind: the feeling he has for Arthur is intense, heated, ravenous, and he won't hide any of that from the other man. But he will let it express itself this way, gentle and warm and delicately aching. His hand slides into Arthur's hair to support his head, to extend the kiss, drink it in, and Arthur will feel the reverberating rumble in John's chest.

[ceaselesslabor]

Arthur has nothing in this world except John. He has his guilt and hos anger and the crushing weight of his existence, but nothing worth having. Parker had been his only tie, and now, with him gone, he clings to the vampire with everything he has.

He doesn't kiss him now with any hesitation, sitting up to drape one arm around his chest, the other against the chest of the black suit. "John..." he whispers, demanding as well as pleading.

[entirelymyown]

John won't hesitate to pull Arthur into his lap for a better angle, wrap his arms around him to engulf him in sweet touches and affection. He has no warmth to offer; if he ever had any to begin with, it was gone before his grandfather's grandfather was a twinkle, but he has plenty of heat and desire and affection and all of it is for Arthur.

[ceaselesslabor]

He happily follows John's cue, sliding into his lap and slotting his hips against his master's. He rakes fingers through John's hair, fingernails against his scalp. He rises up on his knees, kissing John down into the chair.

"I want you," he tells him before his brain can rebel.