adrian ivashkov.

After an extensive round of training, Mason was practically hollow with hunger, eager to attend his dinner plans with Eddie. Once he'd seen Neville off at the training centre's entrance, and dismissing the worry that settled over him at leaving his charge alone, Mason began to wait for his best friend, eyes flickering between the corridor and the clock. It was unlike Eddie to be late, usually Adrian's lack of interest in regards to their sessions lead them into being the first pair out. Perhaps they'd lost track of time. With that idea in mind, Mason made way to their private room instead, his desperation for a meal triggering his impatience. His eyebrows rose with surprise when he made it there moments later, thrown off by the faint moans coming from behind the door. Adrian must've been in a better mood today if they were still sparring. Shaking his head in amusement, Mason pushed on through, clasping his hands together. He went to praise them for the overtime, until his vision focused, and he noticed what they were doing. "Oh — shit." He was stunted in disbelief, mouth agape as he watched Eddie quite literally pull himself out of Adrian. Neither of them had a single item of clothing on, and they were both dishevelled, breathless, with Adrian's body pressed against the wall. It left no room for uncertainty, although Mason was certainly confused on the why, and the how, and the when. Knowing he should never have witnessed this, and flushing with embarrassment, Mason turned away, almost choking on his next statement. "Sorry, I'll... I'm — I'm gonna' wait outside. What the fuck —"

With the Angel as his witness, nobody could say Eddie hadn't tried. He'd tried to keep them on task, tried to keep the training session to what it was supposed to be about — actually training. But all resistance became futile once Adrian went to his knees. His charge just wouldn't leave him alone, and how was Eddie supposed to compete with that? Needy hands always on him, his shorts had been tugged off before he'd even come up with a meagre excuse, and seconds later, he was groaning, Adrian taking him into his mouth. They'd made some progress in sparring, he supposed. It hadn't all been for nothing. They could afford to take a few minutes off. Eddie reasoned with himself until his mind clouded over with want, suddenly unable to think of anything else but Adrian's touch, his hands, his mouth. "Fuck, Adrian," he moaned, trying to keep quiet but caring less and less the longer it went on. Right then, the guardian didn't care if the whole world knew what they were doing, so long as it didn't stop.

Whilst Eddie had spent the majority of today's training session attempting to keep them on task, Adrian had actively worked against him, trying to steer them off it. They'd woken up later than usual, disrupting their morning routine, and disallowing them the time to get each other off before they'd exited the house. It'd left Adrian feeling incredibly frustrated, distracted, so much so that he hadn't listened to a word Alec had said in their opening debrief. He only had one thing on his mind. The struggle became more difficult the second they were alone, but Adrian knew he'd have to at least pretend to make an effort if he wanted to reap the rewards. Still, he purposely failed at every move thrown his way, turning what was meant to be dodged into a hit, if only to feel Eddie's skin on him. He lingered too long, brushed too close, hands constantly wandering where they shouldn't. Adrian barely made it through the hour before he was dropping to his knees, tugging at Eddie's shorts like he'd been starved.

It had taken hours for the initial panic to subside, Eddie shaken by each revelation he came across as he and Mason talked it through. He still couldn’t understand how he’d gotten everything so twisted, how he’d become so wrapped up in his own feelings and lost sight of what was most important. How he hadn’t even noticed he’d fallen in love. And now, if he didn’t let it all go and bury it down deep, he was at risk of losing it entirely; losing Adrian, losing his future. All-consuming dread gripped him when he thought about having to confront Adrian with that information, about having to hurt him and withhold the truth. But the boys had both agreed — the initial hurt was nothing compared to losing him forever. If Eddie didn’t pull back right now, they’d be forced to separate down the line anyway, a thought which caused his chest to ache. Their actions had put him at risk of exile entirely, and whilst he knew they were under Alexandria’s protection for now, they couldn’t run from Alicante forever. Adrian was royal, his family would come looking for him, and they’d only want the best. So Eddie had to be the best. After giving Rose a heads-up, Mason had insisted on staying the night, steadfast in his decision to not let his best friend go through this on his own. After hours of agonising discussion, there were still a few grey areas, but all in all, Eddie had reached a decision, one he knew he had to see through no matter how hard it would be. Side by side on his bed, Eddie stared up at the ceiling, Mason’s soft snores now the only sound filling the room. His presence was comforting, familiar, but it still wasn’t enough to get Eddie to sleep, mind churning, stuck on a loop. Suddenly, a harsh light broke through the murky darkness, Eddie finally tearing his gaze away from the ceiling to find his phone. Adrian, again. He was drunk, clearly, and at Barcelo, waiting for an escort home. Every text felt like torture, ignoring them even worse, but he couldn’t switch his phone off either. What if something happened? The fifth message that came through was total gibberish, and with a heavy sigh, Eddie forced himself to close his eyes, to dull the flashing light. Creating boundaries seemed like an impossible task, but he had to start somewhere, and he had to do it quick. Fast and blunt was decidedly best, to keep emotion out of it. He was unsure how much time passed then, desperate for sleep to come and relieve him from his distress, but it didn’t. Instead, there was a knock at the door, a few actually, accompanied by the calling of his name. Eddie shot up fast, the panic returning from the sound of his voice. Mason was sure to wake with all the noise, but regardless, he knew Eddie had to do this part alone. Taking a few deep breaths, a focus technique he’d learned from Benji, Eddie made his way out to the front door, willing himself the strength to do what needed to be done. All willpower seemed to dissipate once he laid eyes on the Moroi though, crushed by the sight of Adrian’s genuine grin. But it was his fault that it had gotten this far. He had to make it right. “Hey,” his smile was feeble and forced, but he still tried. “You okay?” The question was genuine, though from first glance, his charge seemed okay despite the lack of sobriety. Usually, Eddie would’ve been equal parts concerned and irritated that he'd gone so hard, but the guardian was far too distracted to mind. Perhaps the news would land better this way. Despite the conversation, Eddie hadn’t removed his frame from the door, not allowing the Moroi a path through. “Hey, I think uh.. I think you should maybe stay at Rose’s tonight. You alright to get there?” The suggestion filled him with a healthy surge of jealousy, but at least she’d be awake and hopefully alone. She’d take care of him.

Adrian hadn’t drank much since settling into a relationship with Eddie, he hadn’t had reason to, his mind distracted with an infatuation so intense that he could often disregard his unhealthy coping mechanisms. His mind didn’t spiral in despair because it was focused elsewhere. Even now, in the presence of his beloved friends who’d encouraged him to visit Barcelo, Adrian couldn’t get his partner off his mind. His phone was glued to his palm as his feet skidded across the dancefloor, as he ordered drinks, as he shouted over the music. He was drinking for fun, not to cope, and he was enjoying himself, but the absence of his guardian was too noticeable. Especially considering his stream of drunken text messages were being ignored. The alcohol he’d thrown back only amplified Adrian’s want, which now bordered on desperation. If he couldn’t get him through the tablet, he’d have to make the journey, instead.

A quick round of shots had sounded like a great idea at the time, hoping the growing cold pit in his stomach could be treated with more burning liquor. But he should've known better. All day he'd ignored the warning signs, and now he stumbled along the streets with Adrian, focused on finding their friend, hoping to any god in all of theology that he was just suddenly very intoxicated. Yet no sooner had they tracked Luke down, finding him slumped on the street with a suspiciously gorgeous blonde by his feet, did Henry lose all control, turning fast to projectile vomit all over the ground. And in another second, he was gone, leaving nothing but a pile of clothes behind. With an unceremonious thud, he landed in another location entirely, now stark naked. "Ow, fuck!" Henry swore through gritted teeth, ribs having collided awkwardly with the side of the bathtub as he dropped seemingly out of thin air. With a groan, he rolled onto his back and gave himself a few seconds to get oriented, the thudding in his head dulling with time. He already felt grateful he was at least indoors now. That gave him some dignity. Supporting his ribcage, he finally pulled himself up, gripping the edge of the tub for purchase. "Motherfucker," he hissed, trying to keep his voice low. He had no idea where he was and what world he'd just dropped into. As always, he had to be very careful.

To say Adrian was on thin ice in Benji’s eyes was an understatement. Things had been hard since the brothers had snuck out of Alicante, harder than Benji had ever imagined. Alexandria was nothing like their home, not to mention run by vampires, their sworn enemy. It was up to him and his fellow dhampirs to keep their wits, protect their own whilst the world found its feet once more. Juliet’s arrival had thrown a spanner in the works, Benji’s world tilting on its axis, but he’d worked tirelessly for the last few months to right that ship, to fight every impulse he had for their Moroi's sake. For his brother’s. And yet, once again, here was Adrian, seemingly spitting in the face of all they were trying to achieve, in everything Eddie was doing for him. After their argument earlier that month, Benji had decided avoiding him altogether was the best way forward. Leave him behind in the gutter — surely they’d all be better for it. That way, they could actually get their work done. But, unfortunately for both of them, Adrian was now the person most likely to know of Elijah’s whereabouts, so he did little more than roll his eyes at the initial response, waiting, with growing frustration, for a proper answer. And finally, that proper answer came.

Although arguably deserved, Adrian hadn’t expected an immediate psychical repercussion to his actions. The champagne bottle he could’ve irritably dealt with, knowing there were plenty of replacements behind Barcelo’s counter. But he was useless in a fight, that’s what guardians were for. As Benjamin clearly showcased, moving him with ease, causing Adrian to wince as his back collided with the wall. He was thankful, at least, that the alcohol in his system would prevent the pain from lingering. He could do nothing but remain in the dhampir’s grasp, venomous words spat in his direction, unable to feel the weight of them in his current state of mind. He was certain to feel guilty later, and the idea immediately made him want a hit of something stronger than vodka, because despite his behaviour, Adrian did care about Eli. He was the only one in their group arguably more unstable than himself, which is exactly what had enticed Adrian to invite him in the first place; he wanted to help him.