[personal profile] jaye_voy
Title: First Blood 8/? (Draft Version)
Author: Jaye (Copyright January 2007)
Codes: AU RPS SB/KU, VM/OB, others NC-17

Summary: After centuries of waiting, a vampire returns to seek his revenge.

FIRST BLOOD

Title: First Blood 8/? (Draft Version)
Author: Jaye (Copyright January 2007)
Codes: AU RPS SB/KU, VM/OB, others NC-17

Disclaimer: Only the images and names of real persons are borrowed for this work of pure fiction, which in no way resembles reality. No infringement is intended or profit made. This is NC-17 for adult themes, sex, violence, and language. If you aren't interested (or aren't old enough), don't read it.

Archive: Not without permission except for Mirrormere, so please ask first and keep the text (especially the disclaimer) intact.

Feedback: Yes, please, positive or negative, especially suggestions for improvement. E-mail is reader8901@fastmail.fm

Summary: After centuries of waiting, a vampire returns to seek his revenge.

Note: Original characters are going to start showing up, so some of the names will be unrecognizable. Watching "The Irrefutable Truth About Demons" + eating triple-dark chocolate ice cream after midnight = very strange dream => very strange vampire fic. Also, characters don't count their original ages when speaking of their years (i.e., a 10-year-old vampire can be an adult, but they've only been a vampire for a decade). It's like B.C. and A.D.---once you cross the threshold you start from scratch.

***************

PART EIGHT

Sean's knotting stomach muscles belied his confident strides as he once more approached the door to the Wolf manse. Even after driving around for hours, he still didn't know how to get Karl to abandon his plans for revenge. Arguments, pleas, demands---he had no clue what, if anything, would move the enigmatic First Blood.

The door swung open to reveal Christian, the young man's expression sober rather than smirking this time around. Sean was surprised the Wolves were letting their fledglings near the doors and windows, but as he stepped over the threshold he saw several older vampires hovering, weapons at the ready.

"He's in the main training room," Christian said, immediately turning to lead the way to the left and around a corner, heading toward the back of the building.

Sean glanced at the rooms they passed on their trek, absorbing the somber mood of the scattered inhabitants.

Christian glanced over his shoulder, worry clear in the frown sketching a line between straight brows. "Were you at Fox for the wake?"

"Why?" Sean's reply was short but not sharp, though it was an effort to tamp down the flash of annoyance at the reminder that Ian hadn't wanted him there.

He found himself intrigued when Christian hesitated before a door, shifting from foot to foot before saying, "I was hoping you knew how Johnny---Johnny and Angelina---were making out."

Something in Sean softened at the Wolf cub's uncharacteristic uncertainty. "Sorry, lad, didn't get an invite."

Christian nodded understanding and seemed to shake off the odd mood, straightening and gripping the door handle. He opened the door and gestured within. "Two floors down, first door on the right."

Sean found the carved-wood banister and brass wall sconces surprisingly ornate for what he assumed were the back stairs. He paused a moment before the appropriate door, then shrugged and entered without knocking. Not like he was going to sneak up on Karl.

The doorknob slipped from his fingers as he stopped short. He heard the door click shut behind him but could only stare, transfixed. The room was enormous. He could feel the springiness of thick cushioning underneath the sturdy burgundy carpet that covered half the room, the rest an expanse of gleaming wood. The ceiling lights were recessed, their brightness reflected in the mirrored walls. The only furniture was a few black cabinets, tables and benches at the edges of the room, the only decoration racks thrusting out from the mirrors to cradle gleaming blades and other weapons.

In the center was Karl, a swirl of pale and shadow as he moved in a solitary dance. Bare skin glowed under the lights, sharp contrast to his beard and the dark hair swinging loose about his shoulders and sprinkled from his chest down to low-slung black pants. The trousers were Asian-style, used in dojos around the globe, but the blade gripped in fingerless gloves was as European as Karl himself.

Sean had never seen a longsword wielded by a true master. The weapon had fallen from favor decades before he was born or Made. But he'd seen them in museums, slim, dangerous and beautiful. Double-edged and so versatile even the ornamented crosspiece, hilt and pommel were fatal in the right hands.

Arcs of steel-sheen etched the air as Karl swung, cuts and slashes broken by quick sharp thrusts. Muscled arms rose and fell, hands shifting into different grips, now above his head for a downward plunge, now cleaving waist-high as bare feet spun and stepped from carpet to wood and back again, drifting in random patterns around the room. Countless doppelgängers in the mirrors his partners in a graceful, fatal choreography.

Karl kept his eyes closed. More than he feared the darkness he loathed the sight of himself. Endless reflections of skin that once boasted scars and bumps, moles and freckles, but now was the alien blankness of first snow.

The sword in his hands was what kept him in the training room. The weapon was his own, centuries old and tenderly preserved by his offspring since he'd disappeared so long ago. Delivered from Bonn just this evening.

His palms and fingers gripped the hilt and pommel like the handclasp of an old and trusted friend. Flesh, blood and bone finding harmony with the blade's length and weight and reach, urging him to re-enact long-abandoned strategies of attack and defense. The movements of his body a declaration of what he was: Wolf, protector and predator in the same stroke.

He'd easily detected Sean's approach and entrance. Now he could physically sense the blond, warmth and scent joining the flare of the vampire's uncloaked aura. Karl's own reaction was a surprise: desire, yes, but also an unfamiliar brightness, a confusing kind of rightness that the lionheart was near once more, safe and well.

Karl made his way to Sean, ending his session with a final slice. With a swift shift he balanced blade and hilt on his outstretched palms, opening his eyes and offering the weapon to Sean with a slight bow. He didn't insult his fellow warrior with statements of the obvious. The ex-soldier would know every inch of the blade was honed razor-sharp.

Sean let his coat slide from his shoulders to crumple to the floor in a creak of leather before reaching out. The fingertips of his left hand gently supported the tapered length of metal as his right curled around the hilt. He glanced into seafoam eyes alight with challenge and something else he couldn't name.

He lifted the blade, letting his left hand cup around the pommel. "It's so light," he murmured in wonder. He barely noticed Karl sidle out of range before he began to swing and thrust, the perfect balance of the weapon coaxing him to experiment.

A chuckle startled its way out of Sean as he found himself trying to match some of Karl's moves, the wide sweeps and gliding steps warming and stretching his muscles. For a few moments he let himself forget the urgency of his mission and revel in the nearly-forgotten bond between warrior and weapon.

Karl's lips curved in the faintest of smiles as he watched Sean, the gilt of the other man's hair catching the light as surely as the swinging blade. The teacher in him catalogued the unmistakable signs of Sean's skill and experience, despite the other vampire's unfamiliarity with the sword in his hands.

He wondered if Ian had ever truly recognized the caliber of the soldier, the warrior he'd chosen for the House of the Lion. For certain Karl could never have claimed Sean for Wolf---he knew his yearning for the lionheart was far different than the kinship he felt for his offspring.

Sean finished a slashing spin, then with a sigh straightened and walked back to where Karl waited. With a small nod he carefully handed back the longsword, and watched Karl cross to lay the weapon in one of several open cases on a table set against one mirrored wall. "Is that what you're going to use to kill Viggo?" he asked quietly.

"No." He saw Karl glance over his shoulder, expression hidden by his hair. "And I'm sure you know better than to assume the outcome of any armed conflict."

The First Blood beckoned, stepping to another open case. "These are the blades I would use to *fight* Viggo."

Sean stepped forward and looked at a set of rapiers nestled in a bed of black velvet, matching daggers resting alongside. He caressed one, running his fingertips along the cool metal forming one sword's handguard. Didn't bother hiding his frown as he looked up to meet Karl's waiting gaze. "Maybe Vig is more familiar with these weapons, but you know he doesn't stand a chance against a First Blood. Can you really pretend murder is justice, Karl?"

He thought he saw a touch of wistfulness cross the pale face, but it was too quick to catch. He did see the crooked smile that curved a corner of Karl's mouth as the Wolf said, "I hope Viggo knows what a fierce friend he has in you, lionheart."

Then Karl's eyes dropped to the case, and he gestured at Sean's hand still resting upon the rapier. "Can *you* pretend that we're so different? Could you let the killing of your beloved go unaddressed?" He looked up, and Sean felt pinned by Karl's gaze as he continued, "You want me to abandon the blood for blood, Sean, but can you tell me honestly that you would feel the same if it wasn't Viggo's life on the line?"

Sean wrenched his gaze away, unable to force the lie past his lips. He nearly jumped when Karl's hand closed around his arm, the heat of Karl's fingers through the cloth a sharp contrast to the cool leather encasing the palm. Karl said simply, "It will be a fair fight."

"How?" Sean snapped, though some part of him was already resigned to the inevitability of the duel. He suspected that nothing he could say would persuade Karl to give up the need for recompense.

Karl nodded toward the case, selecting a rapier and a dagger. "It's easier to show you."

Sean's hands automatically closed around the remaining weapons. He followed Karl into the center of the room, instinctively shifting stance and grip, absorbing the weight and balance of this familiar style of blades with the ease of a career soldier.

Karl turned to face Sean, a faint thrill of anticipation shivering along his nerves. "Unleash the beast."

Sean blinked. "What?"

Karl shrugged, hiding a fond smile at the blond's bewilderment. "I won't try to suppress your vampire nature, Sean. I'm giving you permission to transform." He held uncertain green eyes. "Even First Bloods can be vulnerable. They can *choose* to be."

After a moment to brace himself, Sean called forth his power. Felt the strength flow along his veins, extending his canines. Sharpening his senses until he could practically taste the blood that pulsed warm and rich just beneath Karl's skin. His for the taking.

He leapt.

************************************************************

Johnny kept his eyes on the road, even though he could feel Angelina glaring at him from the passenger seat. "I'm guessing you already figured out Brad's in London."

"Of course," Angelina snapped. She'd felt the jolt of her bondmate's arrival while they were still at the House of the Fox. "Care to explain to me why my husband's no longer in Germany?"

The stern tone masked her own ambivalence. So many times in the last few days she'd wanted to pick up the phone and ask Brad to come to the London branch, but she couldn't justify it to herself. They didn't need any more help finding the mysterious killer. She just wanted her beloved close. But she was Head of the House of the Wolf; she shouldn't be so needy.

Now Brad was here, and something in her was at peace despite the danger that still threatened from the shadows.

But that didn't mean she'd be letting Johnny off the hook anytime soon.

Johnny kept his tone casual---plausible deniability was the key. "I called the Bonn House yesterday and asked for a volunteer to bring a few of Karl's things from storage." He glanced over at his clanmate. "Figured he might appreciate something familiar, bit of comfort in an uncertain time, y'know?"

Angelina snorted. Apparently Karl wasn't the only one Johnny thought needed "a bit of comfort". She glanced down at her hands, fiddling with her wedding band as she hid a smile.

But after a moment her good mood faded. She looked over at her Heir Apparent. "I'm worried about Karl," she admitted. "He...he's so different, I feel like I can't reach him at all."

Johnny grunted agreement. "Me too. It's why I sent for his things." He frowned. "Some kind of anchor. I get the feeling he's going to disappear again at any moment."

Angelina shifted, brows drawing together. "He refuses to contact the others. They're his offspring---they can *feel* he's back. It's all I can do to keep them from descending en masse."

"Maybe you shouldn't stop them," Johnny mused aloud, trying to puzzle out the changes in their beloved Maker. "Force the kin bonds."

"I can't." Angelina sighed. "Karl promised he'd visit all of the branches, but only after things were finished with Viggo. Said he wanted the blood for blood settled before he would even consider his next step."

"Somehow that's not reassuring," Johnny murmured, and glanced over to meet a gaze as worried as his own.

They spent the rest of the drive in silence.

Angelina couldn't help her attention shifting as they entered the gates of the manse. She was fidgeting in her seat, anxious to reach her husband. She had her belt off and the door open before Johnny had fully stopped the car.

But she paused halfway out, not bothering to look back. "Speaking of next steps, you and I are going to have a little chat soon. About a certain fledgling's infatuation with you---and what you're planning to do about it."

Johnny's jaw dropped as he watched Angelina practically run toward the manse. Saw Christian opening the door, and couldn't mistake Angelina's significant glance from the cub to him before she disappeared inside.

"Shit," he said softly. Maybe he should stay outside for a while. Just until a certain handsome fledgling succumbed to sleep. Morning wasn't *that* far off.

***************

Angelina sped up the stairs and down the hall toward her room. Brad met her halfway down the corridor, a hesitation in his smile. No doubt unsure of his welcome.

She flew into his arms, hugging him close to her, absorbing him. "I've missed you," she murmured quietly as they rocked in place. She knew their separation had only lasted a few days, but so much had happened she had craved the reassurance of his presence, the living breathing warmth of him.

Brad sighed in relief, content for a moment to simply hold his bondmate. Then he leaned back, lifted a hand to caress Angelina's cheek, run a fingertip over her bottom lip. "Yeah. Too far away from you. From us."

Angelina knew exactly what he meant. Their marriage bond was vibrating, so full of love and need and want. She leaned up to press a quick kiss to Brad's mouth, then grabbed his wrist to drag him to their bedroom.

Brad wanted to chuckle at his wife's eagerness, but restrained from making a crack about absence making the heart grow horny. The circumstances surrounding their separation were now too grim for jokes.

He kicked the door shut behind them and returned to Angelina, his hands relearning the curve of her waist, his thumbs stretching to tease the undersides of her breasts. Made a low sound in his throat as the edges of his wife's nails scraped ever-so-slightly along his ribs as she drew his sweater up. He let her go and tugged it off, dropping it to the floor.

Angelina ran her hands along the muscles of Brad's chest, ribs and abs, feeling the crinkle of hair against her palms, hearing his gasp as she dipped one finger to stroke beneath his waistband.

Brad groaned at the tease and caught slender wrists in his hands. He bestowed a tender kiss upon each palm before quickly shifting to remove Angelina's clothing until he had revealed his Wolf, slim and beautiful and dangerous and wanting him. He smiled as his bondmate's eyes drifted half-shut.

Shivered himself at the brush of Angelina's hands along his forearms, the lap of her tongue against his throat as she leaned in to nuzzle at the join of his neck and shoulder.

A lick along the side of Brad's neck became a nip as Angelina tugged at his trousers. "Off," she ordered.

She obligingly stepped out of the way as he shucked the rest of his clothes. Her breath caught, eyes drawn to play of muscles as he moved. Arms and legs defined with just the right amount of brawn. Hard chest and stomach and of course cock gilded by the lamplight to a sheen almost as golden as his hair.

His sudden grin was startling. "C'mere," he drawled.

Angelina found herself grinning in return, sauntering back to wrap her arms around his neck. "Something you wanted?"

"Yeah." Brad reached down to cup his hands around one fine ass, hauled Angelina up until they were crushed chest-to-chest and she wrapped mile-long legs around his waist. "You."

She didn't bother with an answer, just pressed his face between her palms and sank into a kiss that was heat and wet and lust, breaths and mouths and tongues sliding gliding together. She rocked her hips, rubbing their pelvises together, groaning at the press of Brad's cock.

Brad blindly stepped forward until his thighs bumped into the bed. With a grunt he lowered Angelina to the mattress but stayed standing, staring with a kind of wonder as Angelina threw her arms out with a laugh.

Angelina shifted her legs, shivering at the tickle of wiry blond leg hair against her inner thighs. She looked up, enchanted as always by the pure emotion that shone in Brad's ocean-blue eyes. One hand lifted to stroke a lean hip, while she used the other to explore his cock, smooth and hard and hot against her palm and fingers.

Brad leaned down to brace his hands on the bedspread, his lips beginning a slow journey along the silken flesh of throat and shoulders. Dragging his teeth along Angelina's collarbone, pausing to lap at the delicate hollow.

He moved slowly to one lush breast, painting broad swaths across the creamy flesh before drawing the rosy tip into his mouth. He gently suckled, Angelina's demanding hand in his hair urging him to use his teeth. Her soft cries spurring him on as he moved from one breast to the other, tasting the salt of sweat gathering in the valley between.

Angelina felt her desire pooling, rising, want becoming need. She slid her hand from Brad's hip up to his chest, scratching along his ribs and tweaking his nipple. She drew his cock to her needy core. "Now," she breathed, demand and plea.

Brad groaned as he sank into Angelina, slick and hot and silky tight channel swallowing him inch by inch. When he was all the way in he pressed a quick hard kiss to Angelina's mouth, then quirked a grin. "Now," he agreed.

Then he pulled back, slammed forward with a grunt. Felt Angelina's legs tightening around him, her nails suddenly digging into his back urging him on. He dove back into their kiss, his tongue flicking into Angelina's mouth even as his hips found their rhythm, his cock pushing deep.

Angelina growled her approval, bit at Brad's mouth as she lifted her hips into his strokes. She swiped sweat down the broad planes of his back as her hands moved to clutch his ass, pulling him into her, his muscles shifting under her palms.

She shuddered at the slide of his arm under her back, feeling him embracing her as she cradled him between her thighs. She could hear his groans and her sighs above the wet slide and smack of flesh. She stared into Brad's face, the bond between them wide open.

Brad felt like he could drown in the green-brown-gold swirl of Angelina's eyes, sink into them, into her, and never return. He felt his release building up from the soles of his feet and rising with every stroke, tingling his skin, tightening his muscles, pulling his balls up as his cock got even harder. "Close," he panted.

Angelina drew one hand around the curve of Brad's hip, drifting down to trace the place where they were joined, the push-pull of his flesh into hers. She slid her fingers higher, teasing her clit. Every flick against the nub gathering the pressure in her core, drawing her closer and closer to the peak.

She closed her eyes as it hit, head pressing into the mattress as her muscles clamped under the surge of pleasure.

Brad groaned Angelina's name as he felt her body clamp around his cock, drawing him in and pushing him over. His arm tightened around her as he thrust hard again and again, hot pulses shooting through him to leave his seed deep in his bondmate's body.

Tremors of pleasure shook Angelina, sharp heat that flared and singed, then slowly pooled into molten warmth in her core. Loved, wanted, needed. Bonded. Complete.

His body still braced on one arm, Brad lifted his hand to caress Angelina's throat, feeling her heartbeat and his gradually slowing as they nuzzled each other.

When he trusted his limbs to obey, Brad slid from Angelina's body, lifted his knees onto the bed and tumbled forward. Felt the slide of Angelina's flesh against his own as they shifted until they were nestled together, legs tangled, Angelina's head on his left shoulder. He sank one hand into long dark tresses, enjoying the silky tickle against his fingers. "So how much trouble is Johnny in?"

Angelina snorted. "Not as much as I'd like to him to think." She glanced up a moment before idly running a nail along Brad's collarbone. "I'm glad you're here."

"Me too," Brad replied.

***************

Metal screeched as Karl flung his dagger up to block another diagonal downward slash from Sean's rapier. He simultaneously kept his own sword nearly vertical, sweeping the blade in a semicircle to shove aside the dagger that Sean was angling toward his belly.

He danced back a few steps, using his forearms to push sweat-dampened hair off his cheeks and out of his eyes. He wished he'd taken the time to bind his hair before beginning this fight. Sean had already tried to take advantage of Karl's hampered visibility.

In the next breath Sean was on him again in a flurry of quick thrusts from both rapier and dagger. No pattern to the strikes, no chance to do more than parry, scrambling to keep the blades from tasting his blood. Karl was as tempted to call forth his own power and crush Sean as he was to cast aside his weapons and surrender to the lionheart.

Sean felt a feral grin splitting his face. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had the chance for this kind of spar, and he sank into the clash of steel and will with relish.

He'd lost track of whether the fight had lasted minutes or hours, more conscious of the shift from carpet to wood and back again as they criss-crossed the training room. His vampiric nature granted him stamina and speed along with strength, and the blood-lust kept his focus on bringing the Wolf to heel.

Victory wouldn't be sweet, it'd be hot salt and bitter slick, the taste of blood and cum.

His clothes stuck to sweat-streaked skin. Sean glared at Karl's half-clad body, wishing he could also throw off the confines of shirt and shoes.

Karl gripped the carpet with his toes and launched his own attack, pleased on some level that Sean was proving such a formidable opponent. Somehow gratified that his respect for the blond's warrior skills had not been unfounded. Perhaps...

Sean stabbed with the rapier and met Karl's dagger, slashed with his own and then swung his rapier in a rising arc toward Karl's neck. His eyes widened in horror as he realized in that moment that Karl hadn't lifted his own weapons to block the gleaming blade. Sean shuddered in dread of the bite of steel into flesh as their gazes met---

---then Karl was clear, flinging himself away from Sean's rapier in a controlled tumble that brought him to his feet well out of Sean's reach.

They both froze in place, chests heaving. Eyes locked once more.

Karl dropped his blades and reached Sean in three strides, grabbing Sean's wrists and holding the Lion's weapons away from their colliding bodies. His open mouth slanted across Sean's as he forced the blond's lips open and plunged his tongue inside in a kiss that was more demand than seduction.

Sean barely registered the thuds of his rapier and dagger hitting the carpet as he wrenched his wrists from Karl's grip and plunged his hands into Karl's tangled hair. Never even noticed his canines retracting.

Tongue, teeth and lips then began their own assault of Karl's mouth, trying to steal the Wolf's breath to feed his own lungs. He growled approval of Karl's hands pulling his shirttail from his pants.

A long dragging slide of fingertips brought Karl's hands from the base of Sean's spine up and over strong shoulders to blindly pluck at the fastenings of Sean's shirt. A grunt of frustration puffed down Sean's throat as Karl began to tug buttons from their holes with little regard for thread or cloth. He wanted skin on skin and he wanted it *now*.

Sean shoved Karl back a moment and wrenched his cuffs open to pull off his shirt and fling it away. Then he grabbed Karl's hips, yanking the taller man back into his arms. He groaned as their bare torsos rubbed against each other, dark hair and blond both matted with sweat. His fingers fumbled at Karl's waistband, pushing the loose black pants to the floor.

Karl nipped Sean's top lip in retaliation for the hard clamp of hands on his suddenly bare ass. His nostrils flared with Sean's scent and he shifted to lap at the sweat shimmering on golden skin. He rubbed leather-clad palms over pebbled nipples on the way down to Sean's belt. Wrenched the buckle and button open and dragged down the zipper, then shoved trousers and boxers enough out of the way to grasp Sean's cock in his fist. He grinned as Sean groaned and grabbed at his biceps.

He caught sight of his body in one of the mirrors and automatically flinched. Forced himself to look again, focusing on the sight of fading bruises on his hips from their first encounter, of strong golden hands wrapped tight around his arms. He released Sean's cock to grip short blond hair. "Mark me."

Sean's breath sputtered, even as lust and need surged at Karl's demand. His eyes slitted as his gaze swept Karl's body. "Yes," he hissed.

He slid his right leg around Karl's left, quick pull-push to send them both to the carpet. He caught himself on his hands to keep from crashing onto Karl, pushed his knees between Karl's thighs. Then he lowered his head and sank his teeth into Karl's throat.

Salt sweat coated his tongue as he sucked at Karl's flesh. Not enough to break skin---he wasn't that far gone---but Sean could sense the blood gathering beneath the thin barrier. He shivered at the brush of Karl's fingers against his sides as he drew more strongly, deepening the bruise. His own hands moved to clutch Karl's hips, grinding their cocks together.

Karl groaned at the scrape of Sean's open zipper against sensitive skin, arched his neck into the grip of Sean's teeth. His right hand stroked up Sean's back and nape to sift through fine blond strands, while the other shoved into the back of Sean's pants to squeeze a firm buttock.

Sean pulled his mouth off Karl's skin, lifting his head a moment to admire the livid red mark he'd left behind. The he struck again, this time landing high on the other man's chest, between collarbone and the first line of dark hairs. Grunted at the clench of Karl's fingers in reaction.

Even as he worked at Karl's flesh with his teeth he raked his nails across Karl's nipples, scraping over the hard points once, twice. Enjoying the Wolf's moan and shudder underneath him. He knew what he wanted. He planted his right hand on one broad shoulder, keeping Karl pinned, then dragged his other hand down the long torso and between Karl's spread thighs. Probed at the sweet spot behind Karl's balls then trailed into the sweaty cleft, cocks and bellies and thighs sliding together as Karl writhed beneath him.

Sean pushed at the tight pucker, silently cursing the lack of lube in the room. With a last nip at Karl's chest Sean drew himself up and shifted from between Karl's legs. He gripped the narrow hips, urging Karl onto his stomach.

Karl resisted a moment, catching his breath and searching Sean's gaze. The marks on his neck and chest throbbed and he wanted to lay his fingertips on them to feel their heat. The lionheart's eyes were dilated, echoes of the beast glittering in their jade depths.

Suddenly he reared up, seizing Sean's head to press their mouths together once more, sucking at the other man's lips. He swirled his tongue inside the warm cavern, drinking in Sean's essence.

Then just as abruptly he let go and rolled to hands and knees, looking at Sean over his shoulder.

A hungry sound came from deep in Sean's chest as he moved back between Karl's legs, running his hands up creamy thighs and buttocks to spread his hands over the long muscles of Karl's back.

He pressed his nails in and dragged down, scratching welts into the flawless skin. He leaned up to bite and suck his way from shoulderblades to buttocks, licking along Karl's spine. Enjoying the shudders and low sounds from Karl as the other man arched into him. When he reached Karl's ass he gripped the pale globes and used his thumbs to spread the crack to see the small pink opening.

"Fuck!" Karl couldn't help the shout or the way his body bucked at the warm wet rasp of Sean's tongue against his hole. He moaned, his head dropping forward as he felt his body breached by the slippery length. Relentless clamp of hands on his hips keeping him still for Sean's explorations. His whole body shaking at the intense sensations sparking along his nerves, tightening his skin.

After an endless time of the exquisite torture, Karl felt Sean withdraw with a last lick. There was the brush of cloth as the other man shifted between his spread legs, then the sudden stretch and burn of Sean's cock pushing its way into his body. His muscles instinctively clenched around the invader, and Karl gasped at Sean's groan and fierce crush of the hands at his hips. "Fuck," he breathed again.

Sean closed his eyes, struggling to regain his senses. He eased his mindless grip on Karl, caressing the abused flesh under his hands. But most of his brain was caught up in *not* plunging into the hot tight sheath around his cock. He waited, shivering, for Karl's body to adjust. Leaned in to lick and suck at the tops of Karl's shoulders and the back of his neck, nuzzling the dark hair aside. "Ready, mate?" he asked, voice hoarse as he clung to his control.

He felt more than saw Karl's nod. His body shoved forward at the signal, smacking balls-deep into yielding flesh. Again. Again. Again. He tilted his head to grip Karl's nape between his jaws. Keeping the Wolf in place.

Some sound was pushed out of Karl with each of Sean's thrusts, mixed pleasure and pain at the brutal fucking. His nerves firing with so many signals he was dizzy, only able to focus on the hard flesh slamming against and into him and the burst of sensation as his prostate was battered with every stroke. He almost chuckled at the clamp of Sean's teeth on his neck---did Sean really think he would try to get away?

Karl's palms pressed against the carpet for leverage as he began to push back. His skin tingled with every scratch and bite, and he could feel Sean's sweat dripping onto him, the tickle and scratch of Sean's body hair along his back and buttocks. His cock and balls swung heavy and full, precum oozing from the engorged head.

Finally he could take no more. Bracing his weight on one hand, Karl lifted the other to wrap around his needy cock. He moaned at the slide of leather along the sensitized skin as he stroked in the same rhythm as Sean's pounding. Felt the heat and need surge in his core until the pleasure broke loose and rushed through him. He bucked and grunted, fist pulling forth each pulse of his seed.

Sean's teeth clenched as Karl's body clamped down on his cock. He opened his mouth in a shout and reared up, slamming into Karl with each fierce thrust. Then he was coming, head buzzing, eyes glazing, ears roaring, breath heaving as his body shook with the force of his release.

When he was finally done he slumped forward onto Karl, forehead pressed to the bruised and sweaty back, clutching at the man panting underneath him as he tried to recover.

For long minutes he just rested there, their breaths the only sounds in the room.

Sean didn't want to move. He wanted to stay sheathed in Karl's warmth, wanted to wrap himself around Karl and roll them both to their sides. Just tangle up together and go to sleep. At peace.

Finally he forced himself to pull out. He shifted to the side, immediately rolling to his back to stare at the ceiling. He just lay there, pants splayed open and shoved down, sated and sweaty and sticky and acutely conscious of Karl beside him. And of something else, a tingling awareness that could only mean one thing. "It's after dawn."

Karl pushed himself back so he was kneeling, hissing a little as his buttocks came to rest on his heels. He pulled off his semen-stained glove, then the other, and tossed them aside. Ran a hand through his hair, trying to shove the clinging strands off his face. Karl knew exactly what time it was, despite the absence of watches or windows. "Yes." He eyed Sean, trying to decide what to say, how to say it. Unsure of what he was feeling, or what he wanted other than to keep the lionheart close. "You could stay here for the day."

"Fuck." Sean levered himself onto his elbows. Before he could stop himself he was muttering, "Yeah, trapped in the Wolf lair. Bloody damn convenient, isn't it?" He didn't know what goad pushed those words from his mouth. What was driving him to break the rapport between them. He wasn't even sure what he was accusing Karl of. Just knew that *again* he'd been distracted from his attempt to save Viggo. By lust---and he feared something more.

Some primitive part of him was reveling in the marks he'd left on pale flesh, proof of his conquest of the Wolf. But it was also evidence of his failure, that he'd again lost control and succumbed to Karl's allure.

Karl froze. For one brief moment his power flared within, a dark and terrible craving to deliver a painful reminder why this arrogant Lion shouldn't toss veiled insults at a First Blood. But in the next he just as strongly wanted to spread his hands and ask how Sean could think that Karl would do anything to cause him harm.

In the end he did nothing. Simply rose and pulled on his discarded pants, tucked away his gloves, then gathered the weapons and returned them to their case.

Sean watched, nerves tightening with every second of silence. He wanted to apologize, wanted to flee, wanted to clutch Karl close, wanted to shake some reaction out of the Wolf, but couldn't make himself do anything but wait.

He finally sat up as Karl turned back from the table and crossed to stand in front of him. The other man's movements were as fluid as ever, but the handsome face was cold and still as marble as Karl bowed and said, "My apologies for any part I may have played in delaying your departure."

Karl gestured toward a mirrored panel in one corner. "There are bathing facilities behind there. Please take a few minutes to compose yourself while I arrange for a guest room to be placed at your disposal." He shrugged. "Or you can make use of one of the House's blackout vans and Providers to drop you back at Ian's. You're old enough that a few seconds' exposure to morning sunlight won't do any harm."

Something flashed in Karl's eyes, but his expression didn't change as he finished quietly, "So there's no need to fret. The Wolf lair is a haven, not a cage." With a whisper of movement and click of the door he was gone.

Sean swallowed a sigh and ran his hands over his face, then shoved himself to his feet and headed for the bathroom. What a fucking mess.

***************

Johnny was waiting when Sean reached the ground floor, looking perfectly at ease leaning against the corridor wall. "Hello, Sean."

Sean nodded a greeting. "So Christian's done playing tour guide for now?"

"Even Wolf fledglings seek their beds at sunrise. Karl asked me to take care of you," Johnny replied with his usual sangfroid. His eyes, though, held speculations that set Sean's teeth on edge. Johnny continued, "So, where would you like me to direct you: the garage or the guest room?"

"Which would you prefer?" Sean mimicked Johnny's pose, deliberately baiting him. He didn't like the nigglings of his conscience, suggesting so many ways things could have gone differently between Karl and him---and why Sean shouldn't have come here in the first place. But fuck, when did he start caring if Viggo's would-be murderer got his feelings hurt?

Guilt always made him twitchy. He was spoiling for a fight, trying to find a distraction from that nagging inner voice. Maybe Johnny would oblige him, if he pushed hard enough. "Bet you're wishing you could just stake me out back to be char-broiled."

Instead of bristling, Johnny relaxed even more, eyes twinkling. "No thanks, I'm in enough trouble already." Then his gaze sharpened. "What's going on, Sean? Karl smelled like he'd been rutting and looked like he'd been mauled---and the only way either of those could happen is voluntarily."

"Fuck if I know." Sean slumped against the wall, pressing his hands to bent knees. "I was supposed to be explaining why Karl shouldn't fight Viggo."

"Guess you got a little sidetracked, huh?" Johnny drifted closer. Sean didn't glance up at the clasp of a hand on his shoulder as Johnny murmured, "Maybe showing *is* better than telling. Incentives and all that."

Sean looked up, trying to decide if the Wolf was saying what Sean thought he was saying. "You want me in a relationship with Karl?"

"Why not---give him a reason to focus on the future instead of brooding on the past." Johnny's grin reminded Sean of a shark rather than a wolf. "And it's not like you'll have to work at it. Far as I can tell neither of you has exactly been playing hard to get."

Sean's eyes narrowed. "Why the hell are you trying to *stop* a battle Karl obviously wants?" It didn't make any sense. The Wolves were tighter than any family or military unit Sean had ever heard of---he didn't even think this kind of disobedience in the ranks was possible.

"You want Viggo safe." Johnny shrugged. "I want Karl safe."

Chaos churned in Sean's brain. Could he, should he? Was this what kept drawing him to Karl? Was Johnny really suggesting that Sean seduce the First Blood? Was he actually considering it? Was it what he'd wanted all along?

Sean stopped thinking. Instead he launched himself down the hall, up the stairs and toward a familiar bedroom.

He burst in, gaze immediately drawn to the bathroom door as Karl emerged, obviously damp and clad only in a towel. Sean couldn't read anything beyond wariness in the other man's eyes.

Sean took a deep breath. "Fuck me."


NEXT

(no subject)

Date: 2007-01-05 09:06 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] mistry89.livejournal.com
You keep me guessing - if I think I have their motivations sussed, you blindside me with a reaction (or vice-versa).
Cheers!

(no subject)

Date: 2007-01-06 03:59 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] jaye-voy.livejournal.com
Some of the characters haven't expressed their motives yet---I hope they make sense when all is finally revealed. Thanks for commenting!

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