( derek-calloway )
Smiling at Clover’s words, Derek’s eyes flickered with amusement at his words. “Who am I to deny a man a request that I gave? It would be cruel to do so. Very well, accompany if you wish,” the Calloway hummed, only pausing in thought as he felt the vampire’s hands sliding down his arm until their hands were clasping. Derek gave him a gentle squeeze, stepping ever closer to Clover until he could almost feel the other’s breath on his skin. The lord deftly wrapped the other free arm around Clover’s waist, as to keep the poet from slipping away just yet. “Would you give it to me, if I asked? I do hate being denied such things from a face like yours…” he murmured. The young nobleman’s eyes glimmered, clearly liking the way the two of them played off of each other. “Oh, I’m not sure you’d want me to do that. I don’t think my activities are for the faint of heart, and we shouldn’t discuss things so openly in public. Who knows what hungry eyes may be watching,” Derek teased once more before cocking a brow at Clover’s questioning. Of course, everything the poet was saying made sense, and Derek should continue on with what he intended to do for the day, but somehow, the other man made his agenda of things to do, and the half-buttoned shirt wasn’t exactly helping the nobleman focus elsewhere. “I can postpone my errands if it means more privacy with you, but if you’re insistent on taking your time, we can resume this when I’m done,” the nobleman murmured, though his eyes betrayed his own thoughts, flicking down to look at Clover’s lips invitingly. “At least let me have something to think about, just until we have more time.”
“Oh, I do wish.” How sudden it was for one moment to be in the small gesture of holding another man’s hand to finding forms pressed together. It wouldn’t have taken any effort for Clover to break free, but there was something primal and possessive about being pulled into someone else. He felt as if he was being claimed. Perhaps he was. A tasty little morsel for the nobleman to enjoy wherever and however he pleased for the day. “I know not of denial, only providing milord with all that he desires of me. He has been awfully good to me, showering me in affection and charm,” he said, voice dipping a bit lower and huskier with their close proximity. This close, the bard could count each eyelash that fanned around crystalline eyes. “The only hungry eyes at the moment seem to be ours, Lord Calloway, but perhaps you’re right. Public might not be the right place for sweet nothings to be whispered. Pity, though. I would not lobby against hearing all the things you’d care to do to me whenever such thoughts arose in your mind, no matter whom we held as company.” His smile became more devilish, saucy. It was easy to allow the vessel of softness to give way to the depths of Clover’s lascivious waters. Men were lost at sea there until they found some form of refuge, like Odysseus found in Calypso, but they never stayed for the right reasons. Not that the vampire minded. He chased release more often than he did love. “I’m sure you’ll be very grateful for the time I’ll take when you’re done.” His other hand lifted ever slightly and found the waistband of the nobleman’s trousers. He gave them a soft tug, never breaking eye contact during the motion. Not until he noticed where Lord Derek’s eyes had begun to linger. A honey scented breath escaped the vampire as he leaned forward, lips ghosting over the other’s. “But of course, milord.” The words ended with a sudden surge, a closing of the minuscule gap between them as he caught the man in a small peck at first. He didn’t shy away, however, seemingly waiting for the embrace to deepen.













