Title: Love's Just A Four Letter Word - Sir Elton John
Warning: NC-17 - intercourse
Edvard held onto the warmth, the embrace, the kiss as long as he could, feeling the other pull away almost unbearable. The palm against his own was reassuring though, and he took it, words lost on him, the tone of his lover's voice most important. Making it to the building, he heard more nonsense being babbled and was everything but able to reassure Tyn that the were-dog, doomed since the beginning, would be all right. He doubted, very much, really, that Tyn would ever see the other again. Whatever had happened between the two of them whilst his tortures were taking place was unknown to him, and unimportant. For no matter if the other had distracted that monster to let them get away, some grudges could just not be dropped, some things were deeper rooted than oaks and just impossible to forgive.
They were inside they apartment room before Edvard had really noticed, his hand slipping against the cold knob numbly as he shut the door, turning his eyes back to Tyn and watching him yawn with that look of cat-like curiosity. "Yes... bed." Once again, the raven-curled man let himself be led, undressed, and then pulled into the bed, naked and shameless and loved next to Tyn. Pulling them both beneath the covers, he laid his face into Tyn's hair, murmuring, "I love you, Tyn... So much..."
And then he was asleep.
Dawn came and went, along with the heat of the day. The people outside moved, lived, breathed.... they took on their daily chores and kept going, just waiting for that hour when they could retire again and not be bothered with the worries of the day, or the responsibilities of the next. Like cold molasses, the evening came on, bringing with the darkness a flicker of lamps and porchlights, the lessening in bustling humans, and the awakening of a very, very sore vampire.
Var had slept well completely dreamless and nearly healed. There was almost an air of 'was it just a horrible nightmare' to his previous evening when he untangled himself (quite reluctantly, might it be stated) from his lover and the bed sheets. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he would ponder it and then move, quiet and quick to the shower and get it over with, only returning when he had dressed in a fresh set of Tyn's clothes and was doused down with his cologne. With a loving purr, the man ran his fingers through Tyn's hair, watching for a sign of movement as he leaned over the sleeping man. "My love... do you wish to go with me and get the sugar?"
"Mhhhm?" Tyn managed, rolling himself deeper into the warmth of their bed, before the one eye opened, flickered to Var and then, with an impish grin, grabbed him and pulled him down, kissing him hungrily. As the kiss broke, Tyn looked more than a little smug. "What were you saying?" he breathed, as he stood, still wrapped in the sheets.
He didn’t appear to want to give up the blanket, wandering into the living room still huddled in it. "We’ll need to buy you some of your own clothes too, Eddy…" he muttered, pulling a cigarette out of the previously unopened pack and then under his breath as he lit it complaining how he had lost an almost full back at Dante’s house.
He took three deep inhalations, before moving passed the sofa, looking into the mirror hanging on the wall, and with the hand that held the cigarette, pushed his hair out of his face, before giving a whimper and letting it fall back down.
He was going to have to do something about that. Something soon. He scowled, moving back into the bedroom, still wrapped up, and then cast it off, onto the bed as he finished the cigarette, and opening the balcony doors, the curtains fluttering in the cool wind, cast the filter over the side of the railing.
Before it hit the ground he was in the bathroom, trying to get the sense of… of something off of himself, splashing water over his face again as if it would get rid of the disgusting shadowy hollow under his eyebrow, but of course, it didn’t. Tyn felt rather sick, actually, every time he looked up into this reflection in the mirrored doors of the cabinet. He was repulsed, and somewhat… frightened. His mother always said he had lovely eyes. She’d be so angry… he shivered, and then ducked his head under the water again, holding it until he really really couldn’t any longer, and then raising out the water, spluttering.
He dressed, as quickly and as carefully as he always did, this time spending a few moments extra on his hair, however. The roots where coming back though. He’d have to deal with that, but not yet. After all, he was damaged goods now. The hair was unimportant. "Are we going out?" He asked, kicking on some shoes as within 15 minutes of waking up he was on his second cigarette.
Relishing in the kiss as he always did, Edvard backed up, and let the young man pass him, following him into the livingroom and stopping back beside the doorframe to watch his lover bustle about, cleaning, primping, readying... All of this just to walk through the dirty backstreets of this town. Yet, Var understood. The loss of his eye had caused something inside Tyn to make himself feel... less than he was. Whatever he said would probably not help the other feel any better, but be seen as pitying remarks. The eldest vampire still though his lover was extremely beautiful, one eyed or not. Beauty could be deeper than that, even if it was merely in the eye of the beholder. Still observing the youth as he dragged on a pair of shoes, he nodded, soft, vibrant curls bouncing and settling around his thinned face. "I think so... I would really, really enjoy some tea... with sugar... we can worry with those other things later.. I think it terribly important that I get sugar within the next two hours, or I might die. Literally." he grinned, backing into the living room and lifting one elegant hand to wipe back his curls. Obviously, he wasn't dwelling on the scarring emotional evening before, or he would be wishing to drowned himself in the bathtub... And that isn't what Tyn needed. Yes, Edvard was much worried with the well-being of the other now. He kept thinking on how what he did and how it would make the other think, make him feel.
Stepping towards the door, he stopped for a moment and asked, "Are you coming, or would you like to stay?"
Tyn smirked. "What did I tell you yesterday? I’m not letting you out of my sight, Edvard." He tapped his booted toes to the wall, pushing his feet right to the end of the shoes, and then held his arm out for Var to take. "Besides, I need someone to protect me, don’t I?" he added, slipping out the front door and once more taking his lover down the twisting stairs, gently and teasingly mocking him about getting lost or some such.
There where halfway down the steps when a voice behind them called to Tyn. A young man, probably in his early twenties, his hair brown, messy, and with a thin beard that followed the line of his jaw, standing on the landing above, before running down to meet them, or rather, Tyn, as he gave the tall, androgynous man a long, approving look and then gave a knowing smile to Tyn. "Who’s this then?" He muttered, his hands finding his hip pockets and hooking his thumbs there in.
"Ah. Erm… Eddy, this is Lysander. Lysander, this is Edvard. He’s my…" he licked his lips, searching for a word, and then shrugged, grinning widely. "He’s mine." He gave a laugh, pressing his back against Edvard during the introductions, before warning in a serious voice, "Touch him and I’m knaw out your intestinal track." And then he gave the sweetest smile, which made Lysander’s face, which had been somewhat frightened, crease into a grin too.
"Where are you two going?" the mortal asked, trying to keep from eyeing Eddy’s backside as the three turned back down the stairs. "I might tag a long a little of the way, Tyn, alright?" He added, dragging his eyes away to meet Tyn’s, who had slowed his pace so the two could trail a little way behind Edvard, their heads tipped together as Lysander muttered: I didn’t know you swung that way. To which Tyn promptly answered him with a sharp dig in the ribs.
They walked out into the cool, evening air, a few dim stars already out, but hidden by a thin veil of clouds. "So, where are we heading?" Lysander repeated, offering a cigarette to Tyn, who took one (although his own was still firmly held between middle and index finger) and slipped it behind his ear.
"Shopping. Eddy needs his sugar fix."
"Aren’t you sweet enough?"
"Ha ha, Zan. You’d make a great wit, you’re already half-way there."
Var grinned, laughing as they headed down the stairs and out the front door. He had endured the gentle teasing and introductions with that air of calm snobbery that he had been seeming to regain when he met another besides his one and current only. They weren't important to him, so he would just talk to them like children, look down his nose at them; surely, it wasn't going to gain him any friends, but that wouldn't bother the vampire. Who needed just leisurely friends? They turned on the sidewalk, Edvard slowing to regain his pace with Tyn, eyes running boredly over Lysander and then moving on to inspect the walkway; obviously, Lysander wasn't impressive as Tyn-but he was somewhat biased. He remembered seeing a shoddy little supermarket down the way and around two corners in his little trek through the mist the evening before.
They could go there, get a few things and then go home... to whatever that lead them to doing, he wasn't quite sure, but he could guess... and of course, he didn't mind either way. Chewing his lip, he was silent, not wanting to break in on the friendly chatter amongst the pair, he hadn't been invited in, and even though he could look down his nose at Lysander, he wasn't about to just act undignified by bursting into their discussion.... That was until they passed one particularly familiar alleyway a good bit into their walk. Var had been down it the first night he had arrived in this town, only remembering it now at the curiously nagging scent and lovely, alive noises when he had been looking for a bar to lurk in. The "Underground Rendezvous", as it had been lovingly named, was nothing more than an emptied out underground storehouse made into a bar-slash-dance-club-thing. Now renovated to suit the owner's whims and money making schemes. What, though, might you wonder, had drawn the vampire's attention to the alleyway?
There were no signs, no real markers for the bar; it had been, simply, the song lifting through the brick and down the narrow space between the buildings. Elton John, as more people in this day and age would know. Var only knew this because he had seen the man giving his rendition of the great singer's later songs a week before.
He had been sitting at the bar, stumbling in to get himself another beer that evening when the bar had began to bustle, making way for their drunken Friday-night kareoke competition. That's right, a kareoke competition. Edvard had been amused in his unfed sort of stupor, so had merely rearranged his seat to where he could see the stage on the far side of the large, empty room. There was a woman, dressed in what looked to be a tatty set of jeans and a red-tank top (rather too tight for her, he couldn't help but note) and holding a mic-stand tipped towards her pouty lips; with hooded eyes, she announced the regular routine which most of the folks all ready knew about the competition. The winner didn't win much, thirty bucks and a few drinks of his or her choice... but that didn't seem to matter. All these people were here not for the prize, but for the music that would hopefully soothe their week-long worries and make their next day's hangover worth while. She had barely gotten two steps from the mic when the people began to call, almost sounding as though it were a regular chant, "Sir-Elton! Sir-Elton! ELTONELTONELTON!" they cried, some of the women bouncing on the balls of their feet as the large mass of teeming bodies parted, one youth walking through with an air of a bedraggled star.
"Fine, fine... Damn ya'll... Can't go through one Friday evening where ya'll don't pester me to sing." he called loud enough, a roguish grin twisting his thin, sparkly lips as he turned on the stage, facing the crowd. The people replied with laughs and calls for him to stop yapping and start singing. Apparently, there would be no turns, seeing as the young man, who looked to be barely twenty, asked out of courtesy if anyone else wanted to 'warble for a while and let him finish his cigarette'. Chuckling at the negative replies he straightened his spine, looking fearlessly over the crowd, baggy black jeans seeming to fold in pools around his boots, being tight from the low-cut waist to his knees and much too loose everywhere else. A purple sleeveless shirt was clinging to his well-shaped torso, declaring in fading letters, "One by One, the Penguins Steal My Sanity". Yet, at that moment, the boy had started to sing, growing weary of the crowd and Edvard's attention was drawn away from his appearance, mind to wrapped up in that voice... soft and sweet, much, much warmer than Elton John's could every have hoped to be... and deep.
Blinking stupidly, Var woke from his reminicisent daydreams and took Tyn's hand, pulling him towards the alley. "Come on, I want something to drink... Plus, you should hear this..." and he dragged him down the alley, seeing halfway a black door with a silvery handle above two steps. Wasting no time, the curly-haired immortal had pulled him inside, bar to the far right, stage to the left.
Tyn gave a small yelp, not expecting to be pulled out of his conversation with the rather amusing Lysander, but giving in, letting the mortal follow them, who was barely keeping his laugher down.
Following the pair into the club, his hands still in his pockets, the mortal man seemed to have no apparent interest in whatever had possessed Eddy to drag Tyn inside; but as Lysander had nothing better to do... Zan moved away from the bar, finding a seat away from Tyn and his beau, his own blue eyes fixed on Tyn.
He was such a pretty thing, lithe and small in comparison with the dark haired man he’d hooked up with, but Zan knew that there was an abnormal amount of power in that small frame. He looked away as Tyn began to nuzzle into Edvard’s side, trying to get as close as possible without crawling into Edvard’s clothes, just like a cat. He was jealous, and Lysander couldn’t help it. But what could you do, when the youth only ever brought home women, and never ever showed any other interest in Lysander, bar friendship. Someone had beaten him to the prize, and by god, he was jealous. Especially as this Edvard seemed so cold, so… distant. Not particularly to Tyn, but to the rest of the world. Lysander turned away, his fingers having curled into the edge of the table, and let his eyes move to the singer, still inwardly fuming.
Tyn, surprisingly, didn’t order anything, but he did manage to steal enough of Edvard’s drink to make himself smile widely. It was during this period of ‘let me hold that for you, Eddy’ that me managed to get close enough to the seated, dark haired immortal to half-lean, half-sit, on Edvard’s lap, pulling his lover’s free arm around his middle as he turned his head to nip at the corner of Eddy’s lips, and then stopped fidgeting, listening appreciatively.
Lysander didn’t want to admit he’d turned back and watched the blue-haired man, especially as he had the feeling that this playfulness on Tyn’s part was more akin to foreplay. He blushed, and the mortal turned around in his chair, for the first time paying any real attention to the performing male, and licking him lips at the sight. The music wasn’t exactly his cup of tea; Elton John was, after all, the epiphany of stereotypical gayness, and the actual music style… well, it didn’t float his boat. He preferred more rockish, modern singers, Rufus Wainwright, Drumhill, Placebo… but the man on stage was good, it had to be admitted. And very, very good looking. It made his throat dry.
Var didn't mind sharing with Tyn, of course, handing over his drink and seating himself in such a way that the youth could lean back into him and become fully wrapped in one arm, the eldest's chin resting in the boy's hair, lips pursing against the dark mat of it. Fingers fumbling around the lip of the bottle, he set it back onto the table, taking a moment to once again let his eyes rove their human charge. He could tell, not only by the way that Lysander had been watching Tyn and himself, but by just the way his voice changed ever so slightly, that he didn't like this; nope, Zan mustn’t have liked how they were now, either, bodies pressed shamelessly together, staring off towards the stage, music making their minds slightly foggy... But, with the strengthening of that 'go run up an alley and holler fish' kind of attitude he was regaining for the rest of mankind, he didn't care; even though he had to keep reminding himself that.
The youth on stage was oblivious to the sea around him, people moving and whispering the words they knew beneath their breath. Most of them probably didn't care for Elton John much either, but this was the best singer that frequented their area, so they milked it for all it was worth. Mouth pressed so close to the microphone it looked as though he were kissing it, he sang on, words coming somewhat softer than they should have.
"And someone saved my life tonight sugar bear, You almost had your hooks in me didn't you dear? You nearly had me roped and tied, Altar-bound, hypnotised, Sweet freedom whispered in my ear, you're a butterfly, and butterflies are free to fly. Fly away, high away, bye bye..."
He ran one hand through his short, black hair that looked as though the young man had attempted to spike it, but gave up half way through. As the hand fell, it rested on his slightly exposed pale stomach showing between the same low-rise black baggy jeans and a new, pink-button up, short sleeved shirt. There were silver studs in both ears, lobes and cartilage and many multicoloured bracelets on his arms. They moved half way up or down his forearm when he moved, showing the fine muscling there too. He wasn't all that good-looking, really, with a soft of turned up nose (now holding up a pair of purple sunglasses- oval shaped and silver-rimmed) but he was... curious, eye catching; not that he would have it any other way. As the music began to fade, he held the last note, voice dying precisely when the music had. Grinning with Crest-white teeth, he gave an elaborate bow, pulling a very crumpled pack of cigs from his back pocket and stuffing one between his shimmering lips on his way back to his former state. The crowd clapped, then whined faintly as he made his way down the steps, knowing how good he was and seeming to flaunt it saying, "Oh, I know you just adore me, and want me terribly, but someone else has to have a go. I need a drink more than any of you folks... come on, how about you bring up Adam. He was telling me he wanted to sing you a song, ain't that right?" he pulled a man a few years older then him with shaggy blonde hair out of the crowd, steering him up the stairs as he made it back towards the bar, calling to the ageing barman, "Come on, Fredrick! You know what I like, friend." and plopping upon the barstool, hand searching his other pockets for a lighter.
It was Tyn that reached a lighter first, sliding it down the worksurface of the bar to touch the man’s elbow, and then blushing very faintly, fingers tightening on Eddy’s arm, as if Eddy would hide him if the singer looked over at them. Tyn then turned around in Eddy’s lap, facing him, nuzzling into the older male’s neck and then lifting his face up, stealing one, two, three kisses in quick succession, pulling away after each and smiling widely, his hair still covering that one half of his face.
Lysander had been one of those who had clapped, and then whined, although not for the loss of music. His whine was softer, and it burst from his lips when the singer walked right passed him, unseeing, and sat himself down nearer to the lovebirds. Zan, in his jeans and T-shirt, was unremarkable, normally, but those two… Tyn with his blue hair and his beau with the beautiful, long black hair and his androgynous beauty were very much the attention grabbing pair. He sighed, resting his chin on his hand and considering his options.
And after a second, he made a choice, getting up, moving closer to the singer, and taking a place up by the bar, not too close, but for the moment it was as close as he could get. Take it slow. After all, this guy was being showered with attention, so Zan wasn’t going to get much luck away. Might as well hang around, find out what days this guy was here, come see him, introduce himself. And not turn into a big drooling, whimpering, stammering mass like he sometimes did when faced with attractive men.
Tyn at this point, was back to nuzzling and biting at Eddy’s ear and neck, giggling under his breath as his arms looped around the other’s slightly wider shoulders. As he looked straight at Eddy, leaning forwards as if to kiss him, but then, instead of kissing his lips, bit his nose, very gently. Tyn let one arm fall from around his love’s back, and let it slip down to the top of Eddy’s thigh, resting the fingers on the inner curve, nails scratching at the material of the fabric, golden eye intent and hungry as the pink tongue snaked over his lips, dampening them.
Lysander coughed, attracting the barman’s attention after he had served the pink-shirt wearing artiste, and ordered vodka and coke, paying and taking hold of the pint glass, sipping at it as he turned his blue eyes from Tyn to more… available quarry.
"Th-" but as the young man's eyes lifted towards the one who had slid him the lighter, the words died instantly on his lips and he grinned, turning back to the cigarette in his lips, lighter lifting, bursting out flame to turn the end of the thin white stick orange before he slid it back down the bar. Edvard hadn't even noticed this, too busy taking kisses and feeling fingers stroke over his shoulders and down his back. Then, he felt his nosetip being bitten, and leaned his head backwards a fraction or two, eyebrows twitching upwards as his lips parted to let loose a small chuckle. Almost giggly was he, until the hand slipped down onto his thigh, nails rubbing down the fabric; the eldest man smirked, eyes narrowing and no doubt, naughty thoughts crossing his mind. Var leaned forwards, catching Tyn's bottom lip between his own, and then letting it go, fangs drawing down his jaw and onto the Adam's apple, completely unaware that he had an audience-not that it would have mattered.
Bored with that, but still feeling a bit of heat gather in his ears, the youth turned his eyes upon the bowl of pretzels in front of him and the bottle that expensive, bubbly French water. "Thanks, Freddy.... You're too kind." he chuckled, hand running through his hair once before dipping and grabbing the little green glass bottle and cracking it open. Hearing the small, annoying cough that had drawn both his and Freddy the Barman's attention, he turned his eyes, head tilted back to take a long swig of the water, following it with a deep draw from the cigarette. Freddy smiled, moving off down the bar a ways after getting both the men their drinks. Face tilted to the side, eyes curiously hid behind the sunglasses the young, dark haired mortal smiled above the music-Adam's-which wasn't as good has his and called, "Well, you don't look familiar... First time here?"
Lysander’s eyes flickered back from the kissing couple, his own face slightly flushed as he sipped at his drink and nodded. "Yeah… we heard you singing. You’re very good." He smiled, not particularly wanting to answer the question of ‘we? Who else?’ because that would mean pointing out the two again and ohmygod from where he was sitting he could see everything that was happening, or rather, the reactions.
Tyn’s head was tipped back, Var’s mouth pressed to his throat, and the blue haired male voicing his delight in small groans, which he was desperately trying to silence. At least he had some sort of public decency, Lysander hoped, as his blue eyes went back to Kris. "Lysander Thornycroft." He said, introducing himself and holding out a hand to be shaken. "Do you sing professionally or just for other people’s enjoyment?"
With a small, soft whimper of delight, Tyn’s hand slid higher over Var’s thigh, and rested on his crotch, before squeezing once, his expression dazed by lust, and his lip held between his teeth, shuffling his body tight up against Eddy’s, although it was not though. "Was this your plan, Edvard?" he asked, voice deeper than normal, his body pressed so close that he could feel Eddy’s heart beat against his own ribs. "You keep making me…" he pressed his lips hard against his lovers, and then into his ear half-whispered, half-groaned: "…feel like I’m burning up. All over. You’re driving me crazy." The hand squeezed again.
Lysander swallowed, pulling, dragging, forcing his eyes away from the pair, blushing brightly. "I… I erm… yeah. Professional? Sound like one." His eyes threatened to slide back over to his immortal entourage, but he took several swallows of vodka and coke, and that seemed to boost his confidence. "I like you. I mean, I like your singing. Do you only do Elton? I mean by do, I mean singing. Not anything else. Just singing."
The young man's eyes had followed Lysander's over to the pair, and he smirked, waving his hand in front of the other's eyes, eyebrows dipping as he leaned back haughtily into the bar, body turned to the crowd, fingers bringing pretzels to his lips one at a time. He munched a couple slowly, listening to the babbling mess that came from the other's lips, making himself, forcing back a small chuckle. "Call me Casper." he replied to the words when they stopped. The black haired fellow was much looser, much slower and nonchalant with his words. "And thank you very much, about my singing, I mean..." Casper smiled faintly, pushing the bowl of pretzels at him. "Hard week? You seem a tad... wound up." once again, he had to stifle giggles, guessing by the way his eyes kept darting from himself to the pair behind him what Lysander was so nervous about. Finishing up the cig, he packed his own away as though the box was empty, looking sweetly to Lysander without further ado. "Can I have one of those...?" he lifted his hand, poking the box of cigarettes in the other's pocket, leaning over and picking the lighter back up from in front of the snogging vampires. "And yes, I do sing other things besides Elton's stuff... I just like it the best, you know... Do better at it." leaning back onto the bar, he hooded his eyes, waiting for a reply about that fag he was longing for.
Edvard smirked broadly, his tongue poking from between his lips to lap at the soft skin of Tyn's neck, feeling the hand at his groin and the hot breath against his ear. Purring faintly, one hand settled onto Tyn's hip pocket, stroking over the hem and playing over skin. "Do I, now? Well, the feeling is mutual...." he murmured, biting the youth's earlobe gently and then stealing a deep kiss of his own. "Then let's remedy it, my love... Lysander's a big boy... We can leave him here..." both hands were now playing along the edge of the other's pants, seeming to tease Tyn more than Var really had planned.
Tyn nodded, grinding his hips back into Var’s eagerly, his hands clenched on Edvard’s thighs, but not wanting to move, but needing to. Otherwise he was sure his flesh would burst into flame. "Home… please…" the words were punctuated by gasps, and by Tyn’s soft whimpers of desire. "Pleeeeeease…"
Lysander, on the other hand, seemed to have found his tongue again, embarrassed by the amount of nonsense he’d managed to spurt. He pulled out the packet, there was only one left anyway, and offered it, unthinkingly as he spoke. "Not really a hard week. Just… stressful. You know how it is." He could have continued: the straight guy that I like disappears for two days and then turns up happy as a puppy with this tall King Charles dude in tow, and then they start full-frontal tongue-wars in front of me, just to rub it in. life’s a bitch, huh? But he didn’t. There are things you just don’t say when trying to chat someone up, even if you are going to the sympathy vote.
"But I know what you mean. About doing better at something you enjoy. It must be… be really nice to be able to sing so well. I can’t sing at all. Not got any talent what so ever. Did you ever get lessons as a child?" he was leaning forwards, having completely forgotten about his drink, supporting his face in his hands as his elbows rested on the bartop, pale blue eyes now on Casper, not moving to look at the leaving couple, fully engrossed in this other man, not needing the distraction of the vampires. It was as if, now that he had someone else to want, Tyn was no longer necessary, and the same went for Tyn’s detachable pretty-boy.
Var helped him, hands laying over Tyn's and pressing them back into his own lap before pushing the younger vampire back onto his stool and getting to his feet. Offering Tyn a hand, he soon had his love pulled warmly to his side, unable to keep himself from continually kissing the other's cheek and hair, fingertips rubbing up and down Tyn's arm. As they made it out the door, Edvard forgot about the sugar completely and righted them, turning back towards the apartment and picking up his pace, flashes of Tyn's darkened bedroom taunting him.
Taking the cigarette and putting it between his lips, he lit it, nodding slowly as though he completely understood. "Yeah. I understand... And no, not professional, and no, I never had lessons... Except from this one woman a couple years back... She taught me a few things, then she died... and I had to move." the young man who was currently calling himself 'Casper' shrugged faintly and took a drag, pulling the white stick from between his lips and eyeing the other man from behind his glasses. "So... What do you do? I mean... occupational.. hobby.. whatever." his interest was genuine, but the note in his voice said otherwise, making it just sound like he was curious out of polite routine. It was a habit of his, to not acting as though want to be talked to, but really, really wanting it; needing it, if you would. Placing the cancerous stick back between his lips, he licked the filter, smiling quaintly and continuing to observe Lysander over like some sort of shrubbery.
Lysander laughed as Casper asked about his own rather pathetic and insignificant existence, but answered anyway, because manners dictated that he should. "Well… I work with computers, so that’s as boring as hell, but…" he shrugged, "I go out, I try to keep myself sane. Go to places like this, listen to good music, meet people. Usual stuff." He smiled, looking up from his drink, which he’d been swirling around in his glass. "I’m not very interesting, not really. I haven’t got any reason to be interesting, which really does sound bad, doesn’t it?" He sighed, looking down again.
Tyn was leaning against Eddy and gasping in delight at every kiss, every caress that was graced upon him, his body pressed against his lovers as they reached the building much sooner then Tyn had expected, although the sense of lust around them probably had a lot to do with that. Why did these moods always posses them when they were out, away from privacy and a soft mattress? That was the way of things, Tyn supposed, arms wrapped around Eddy’s neck as he backed into the apartment, kissing with all the pent up lust that had gathered in him since leaving the small bar, and walking backwards towards the couch.
"I… you know, no one has ever really asked me a question like that before." Zan said, sipping at his drink. "I mean… not like that." He seemed to give some thought to this fact, then shrugged it off. "It isn’t that important, is it? It just seemed strange." He smiled, and then continued, talking for a moment about nothing much at all, before offering to buy Casper another drink.
"Computers? How curious... Technology and I, they never got along." he leaned onto the bar too, not that far off from Lysander's. It didn't take a smart man to figure out flirting, even when it was so subtle, and for some reason, much against Casper's nature, he tried hiding it, at least for the time being. "Yes, it's rather curious.. But then again, you must consider who you are speaking to." the youth put a hand to his own chest, raising his eyebrow to indicate himself. "And a drink would be nice... Freddy!" he leaned over the bar, hips hanging over one side, chest over the other as he reached beneath the bar. "I'm grabbing another water..." Arm snaking into the darkness and then pushing himself back into his seat with a slight smile. "Right. Well, thanks for the drink, Lysander." Casper grinned and hooked one knee over the other, his cigarette now in the ashtray, fingers prying at the water-glass top wrapped in foil. "Any... relatives or anything?" he inquired, motioning the barkeep over to refill Lysander's drink, just wanting to keep their conversation going.
Var purred, kissing him heavily, heatedly back hands slipping spread beneath the shirt and breaking the kiss just long enough to get it over Tyn's head; and in doing so, he had swept the hair away from the eye-less socket, not seeming to notice it at all. Meeting his lover's mouth again, his tongue roved out, licking Tyn's lips and then pressing past them, coaxing his tongue back into his own jaw. Hands blindly playing over the button at the other's pants, he soon had them undone, nails pulling the zipper and flattening back the fly with a little purr of, "So warm, so soft...." more to himself than Tyn as the long-fingered hands slipped up and down the blue-haired man's spine, his own ebony curls laying over both their shoulders.
With a muttered thanks towards Freddy, Zan shook his head. "Well, relatives, yes… sisters. Mother and father somewhere up-state. See them at holidays, Christmas and thanksgiving and that’s about it. Not family of my own." He sipped at the drink, eyes moving from his host for a moment. "What about you? Family?" he returned, "You seem a very popular guy…" he smiled, and wondered if he should enquire about an possible partners Casper might have. But his spine was tingling, as was the back of his neck, and somehow he knew that although they were both being casual, reserved, this little, probing questions had far much more to do with biology then boredom killing.
Tyn groaned, kicking off his trousers as his trembling fingers began to work off Var’s own shirt, and then more eagerly, his jeans, returning the hard and demandingly kiss as he guided the older vampire down onto the couch, pulling him down on top of Tyn’s almost naked body. With his tongue being so welcomingly molested within Edvard’s mouth, Tyn was free to slide his hands down underneath the waistband at the back of Var’s boxers, fingertips moving down over the curve of his lover’s backside, while his own hips bucked and ground against the front of Var’s pelvis.
"How often are you here, Casper? I’d love you come and listen to you more…" he looked down again, sure that a blush was creeping over his face, and took a swallow of his re-filled drink, pulling a wallet from his pocket and passing notes over the bartop towards the elderly man. "Keep the change mate."
Bringing his lips away from Var’s, he slid off the last of his lover’s garments, not even breathing as his hands trembled, sending shivers up and down his spine and leaving molten lust in the pit of his stomach, and the daze that had taken over his brain. He was acting purely on desire now, on need and vaguely out of fear. He knew what he wanted, but he didn’t. He vaguely knew what to expect, but had no real idea, no certainties. But he wanted it, whatever it was.
Freddy pushed the money back at him, eyes crinkled in what looked to be subdued amusement. "Keep it... Any friend of... /Casper's/," he stole a look at the youth, eyes turning quickly back to Lysander's. "Is a friend of mine." With that, he brought Casper the same thing his new 'friend' was drinking and refilled the pretzel bowl, bag crinkling as he wadded it up and threw it away beneath the bar. Casper smiled, waving slightly as the elder barkeep moved away from them, the boy leaning heavily back onto the clean, shiny bar and sipping at what he had been brought. Making a face he turned his sunglass hidden eyes to Lysander, smiling faintly. "Well, I've never really had family... Put into foster care when I was three... Lots of people, most of them I don't remember... You know." he grinned and shrugged like it was just random chatter.
Edvard pressed his hips heavily down into the couch, Tyn being depressed with them into the sofa cushions. Voicing his pent up desire in small, huffy growls and little whines of pleasure, he took another kiss, faster than the other's as one hand cupped in the small of Tyn's back, fingers pushing heatedly at the elastic band of the undergarments, getting them off as soon as possible. When they were skin to skin, he moaned, a look of hot, quite unbound desire passed over his face, making his lips part and his eyes flutter; with that, he pressed them both repeatedly into the makeshift mattress, trying to organise all his wild, lust-dazed thoughts as he wiped back Tyn's bangs, featherlight kisses gracing his brow. Var would drag it out as long as possible, the pleasurable, desired experience, if he could find himself and gain back the control that was slipping with every little touch.
"Oh... yes, I come here every night... or at least I try.." he gave a little uncertain wave of his hand, taking a deeper gulp of his drink. "Unless I'm working.. or busy.. or sick..." Casper shrugged once more, eyebrows lifting as his drink went back to the bar, hand pushing the sunglasses onto the crown of his head to reveal a very vibrant, very pretty set of emerald eyes. "So...." he grinned, obviously running short on small talk.
Tyn whimpered, his nails biting into Var’s flesh as his own boxers were removed, slipped down over his hips and then he kicked them off his ankles. With heated flesh against heated flesh, he didn’t think he could wait, even if Eddy seemed keen to make these moments last as long as he could; Tyn needed something more, something that would end the buzz of feeling that ran constantly up and down his spine, sending every nerve-ending in him on red-alert. "Eddy… please… damn you, do it." He gasped out, his hands moving up to rest on his lover’s shoulders, wrapping his legs about Eddy’s hips, pressed down between his lover and the cushions of the sofa.
"Or if you have a date?" Lysander interrupted, and took another swallow of his drink. "I mean… erm…" he smiled, "I’m sure… you must have plenty of interest…" he looks hopefully into the beautiful blue eyes, and left his knees starting to weaken. He would have fallen over, if he wasn’t propped up by the stool and the bar itself.
"Just do it, please!" the words where almost shouted, Tyn’s voice raised in need and desire and things he didn’t rightly understand, spreading his legs a little wider to make it clear exactly what his body was so desperate for, although he felt like such a whore with his head thrown back.
"I’m not saying… well I am, but not.. not anything big, you know. Just… get to know you. Buy you a few drinks, something to eat somewhere nice. You know…" he swallowed another mouthful of vodka and coke, his light blue eyes rising to meet the deeper cerulean again. "Not that you have you. I mean, you’ll probably be busy… but any time you’re free, I’d like to. Even if it’s just for coffee or something like that. It’d be really nice, Casper. I do like you. I’d like… well, to spend some time with you, without all your drooling fans hanging around too, if possible." He smiled, letting a little of the jealously escape from his soul.
Edvard snuffled the blue bangs, hearing the words, almost scowling-or smirking, his brain unable to make up which synapsis to prod into wakeful usage. Rushrushrush, something made him think once more, eyes narrowing and being too jumpy to understand what the thought meant; but he understood the need. Four hundred years of longing all the time, just for one pleasurable few moments, just for one touch, one lingering sensation... He shivered, moving in such a way as to pull Tyn's lower body closer to his groin, spine curving, muscles taught; then, with a quick succession of his thrusting hips, he was close enough, tight ring of muscle clamping down on him, making his whimper as he scooched closer, stooping lower to brush his lips uncertainly to Tyn's, eyes searching that single one as his lower body moved of its own accord, knowing by second nature how to react.
"A date?" Casper chuckled, roving deep-sea green-and-blue eyes shimmering behind long, well-dyed lashes. "I don't ever go on many dates... well, any, actually...." he smirked, finally feeling the need to retrieve his cigarettes from his hip pocket, looking for the lighter he had used earlier. It was true, the boy never had been on such a formal outing; really, the fact was, he had never been good at keeping appointments, set times.. whatever. It didn't suit him; not to mention the fact that Casper never settled for such tame things, mind set on more of an outlook that 'once was fine, twice was too many'. So what if he just came and went like a tom-cat? So what if people seemed utterly unimportant in his schedule? So what if this handsome fellow who seemed keen on turning red more than once tonight wanted to take him out for coffee?
"Sure." he replied, fingers lacing over the crinkled cellophane of his cig-packet. "I would like to get out sometime.... Thanks, for asking, I mean... I.. hmm..." he looked around, seeing Adam walking off stage like a scalded dog, people crying out, "Elton, Elton, Elton!" again. "Dammit... Can we... Leave? Surely to sweet God, they can find someone else..." he down what was left of his drink, pulling the shades back over his eyes.
"We can go right now." Lysander agreed, getting to his feet and walking side-by-side with Casper out of the club and out into the rather chill night air, the wind beginning to tug at their clothes. "Think we should find somewhere warm rather quickly… it might rain later too. There’s a nice restaurant a block away…?"
Tyn’s eye went wide, fingers, which had been relatively tight on Var’s shoulders, now ripping into the soft flesh, his mouth forming a soft ‘oh’ before the kiss was pressed against it, and then the pain came. Tyn’s hands fled from Var’s back, pushing him off, screaming into his lovers mouth, tears streaming down one half of his face, before the strength left his torso, his hips, shuddering, rolling up to met every thrust Var made. The worse thing about this slow, throbbing inversion into his body was that Tyn thought that this was how it was meant to be. How would he know different? If there was no pleasure in this, then perhaps… perhaps he was wrong. Maybe he didn’t… maybe he was straight. Eddy did look like a girl, well, no, but he…
"I’ll get you something nice. Come on." And with that, Lysander pulled Casper into the rather posh looking restaurant, and although neither were really dressed for some a place, somehow both managed to get in, finding a table towards the back, and then being passed menus by the well-dressed waiter. "What do you want? Don’t worry about paying me back, either. I can’t imagine you get paid very well for singing at the place anyway, as nice as it is…" he looked up, not having opened the menu yet, after all, he knew it almost inside out anyway. Any restaurant within ten minutes walk from his apartment had become like a second home, with Lysander dining there almost every week. This particular restaurant was expansive, yes, but you certainly got your money’s worth. And he rather liked the family that ran it, and they seemed to approve of his patronage, giving him small freebies and such, even if it wasn’t much, it was welcomed. After all, what sort of modern bachelor would pass up the opportunity for free food? Obviously not this one.
No, he loved Eddy. This wasn’t only about physically chemistry, it was more about how their minds clicked rather then looks, although Tyn knew, and appreciated the fact that Edvard was, undoubtedly, gorgeous. The way he had saved Tyn’s life, twice without knowing him at all, and then yesterday… Another sob, nothing to do with his pain, broke from his lips, and although the pain was near enough unforgivable (he knew he was bleeding, he could feel it on his skin, and his body felt like it was being ripped apart, slowly) he knew that this pain was nothing compared to what Var had gone though, and he knew this pain was not being forced onto him. He had asked, wanted this pain. He was sure it would stop soon anyway, it had to. Bringing his hand to his mouth, he bit down on it, sucking up the blood that flowed from the puncture wounds his fangs made, but glad that this covered up the screams he would otherwise be making, his free hand once more curling around Var’s shoulders, finger entwining into the dark hair, his hips still bucking up to meet Var’s thrusts.
Edvard stopped, mid-thrust, nails ripping heavy into his flesh, trails of cooling blood seeping down his powder white, yellow-bruised shoulders and moving into the valley of his spine. Eyes widening, his lips drew back from Tyn's, staring down at the other like he wasn't there-seeing right through him to the mattress beneath. /He/ knew he was bleeding too, Tyn that was, and once again, this pain was the cause of his negligence, his-how could he have?-forgetfulness. How could he blame it on lust? How? He couldn't, that wasn't a good enough excuse, he'd done this before, lust or not never stealing this much of his attention, his.... intelligence. Gasping like he had been submerged in icy water and just surfaced, he shook his head just enough to make black, swirling curtains flutter around their faces, golden eyes shutting once, twice, thrice, and then blinking open, going wide. Teeth chattering as an aftermath from the cold submersion, he shrugged off his all-too-willing lover's arms, doing his best not to hurt him more as he pulled away, pressing himself against the opposite end of the couch.
"You're.. too kind." Casper stated, flicking away his filter that had ceased to burn softly. Wrapping his arms around himself as they walked through the chilled air, the youth tilted his heading such a way that he could see Lysander's profile, not too much taller (perhaps three inches or so) than himself. A smile crept onto the boy's face as they made it to the restaurant, looking around and hearing the 'don't pay me back' that came from the other's lips. He knew, with his /profession/ that he would have more money than the other did, but didn't say anything, not wanting to sound rude, or ungrateful. "I... erm... Thanks... don't you think we're a tad… underdressed, though?" he said, his self-esteem seeming to melt now that they were out of the foggy stomping grounds he haunted so regularly; there was were the young man felt at ease, felt... safe, if that's what you could call it. Goodness knew he was still shameless, but this was just... unexpected. Casper licked his lips nervously, being led along to sit in a plush little corner near the back. Taking his seat he picked up the menu, smiling faintly to receive a reproachful look from the waiter. Fingers rubbing over his many jelly-like bracelets, he frowned down at the paper, not really seeing or being able to focus the little black print. "I... uhm." he started, glancing over the top of it towards Lysander and then looking back at his menu. "What would you recommend..? I wouldn't know what to get in such a ritz place.. and what is this garb, here at the bottom.. is that Italian?" Peering down at the language he didn't seem to know, he ducked behind his only cover.
Var was regaining his breath, looking out to the side, away from Tyn, zoned out. Words spluttered from his mouth, and realising that no one, especially Tyn, was going to understand, he just sat, tongue licking over his dried lips; he couldn't muster the decency to look to his lover, laying there so helplessly, so... so... ignorant. Yet, he was the problem, the reason... The vampire shook his head again, tasting blood as he mindlessly bit through his lip.