They had time then, not a lot of it, but enough to settle in deeper and live in a moment he was not wanting to lose. He enjoyed the rumble of Connor’s voice against his ear as he spoke, and the never ending warmth that soaked through his body and eased his muscles into a state of total relaxation. After last night, he’d be trying to get Connor to share his bed more often than not, because truly there would be no way he could get another night of peace without him. 

“We have a little over an hour.” Damien said with a soft yawn, the schedule of his hunter’s rotations looping through his mind like clockwork. They would be switching shifts soon, Connor would have to join his daily patrol, and Damien would have to go off on a scheduled meeting in the lab and then attend to a few matters in the bunker–including taking stock of an ever growing inventory so they could plan their next supply run. The work never ended…except for now.

Damien’s head following the motion, his mismatched eyes still a bit glassy with sleep, but they were nothing short of soft and warm as he gazed up at Connor. Lips reconnected in slow tender kisses, sharing the same longing connection they’d had until they had fallen asleep in each other’s arms. It wakened Damien easily enough, his blood already beginning to rush as he turned, settling himself practically atop the other man. He would have merely grunted and moved aside at the comment, but the reason behind it made itself known against his waist–and oh did it rouse him all the more. 

“I don’t think that’s what you need.” Damien teased behind another slow kiss. “But I have an idea of what you do.” He couldn’t help himself, not with the sight of Connor tangled in the sheets sporting an erection he couldn’t hide. His hand fell there, hesitating only slightly as he crossed into much desired new territory, and then slowly began to palm him through his layer of clothing. “I’ve just decided you’re off duty this morning, gonna need you for something else today anyway so…that gives us a bit more time.” He pressed his lips against Connor’s collarbone, and he felt the heat and yearning build. “Unless you’d rather have the bathroom.” 

All the times he’d dreamt it- in sleep or in waking- he never imagined it might feel quite like this. The heavy body sliding atop his sent shudders to all the right places and he was craving something only Damien could give him. He’d only wanted to be discreet because he hadn’t been certain of it yet. Always a second guess on what he might get if only he asked- but the tease upon his lips told him more than words ever could. He didn’t notice Damien’s hand sliding downward until their kiss broke and the touch brushed across his length and he fought himself to remain still. The soft moan that left his lips a testament to how much he wanted this but not nearly as much as the grip onto the back of Damien’s neck.

Holding him there with one hand, the other slid between them to return the favor, his gaze locked on Damien’s. “I’d rather have you,” the reply burnt through his throat like wildfire- all the unbridled need long buried flooded to the surface and he made damn sure his commander knew it. Knew it in the way he kissed him again- not softly but with the passion of a man who’d been holding it back for too long. With possession. With love. He finished by pulling Damien’s lower lip through his teeth, lapping across the pout with a chuckle. “I’ve wanted you like this for years, Damien. I don’t think I can wait much longer.”

“Consort...” Kazimir mused, his lips turning upwards into a slight smile. “That’s a fancy name for a pet.” What interest had she taken in this human, he wondered, and what could he possible be gaining from it? Not that it mattered. There had been no sign of her for days, and given this human was no feeder that he knew of, he was in danger being here. Fair game, really, but Kazimir’s bloodlust was reserved for those that dared angered him, not for stray humans.

“If anyone where to know of her whereabouts, I would assume it would be you.” He replied, ignoring that way the human reached for his weapon as he ventured a few steps closer. “But I care little for weak leadership, and I consider her absence rather relieving.” He tilted his head, considering the human a bit more closely. He could be a friend of Axel’s, especially if he was from the Hideout. “I suggest you get home quickly. This place is very unsafe for you.”

Connor brushed off the retort, barely flinching at the mention of being a pet. If only the vampire knew- perhaps best that he didn't. “Well if I knew what happened to her, why in the hell would I be asking you?” He retorted- and it wasn’t worry that he might never find her, honestly he hoped she was dead somewhere, but worry that he would never get what he needed. A nagging feeling to grab the vampire and take him down only to drag him to Camden rose up but he stopped himself from attacking as the warning was placed. What the fuck- “this place is never safe for humans. Be that as it may, I don’t plan on leaving until I get some answers or direction. I have a job to do, and I get a little more than pissed off when I’m unable to complete it. So either help me, or get out of my way.”

“I think you’re forgetting the fact that most of us humans have something or someone we are trying to get or achieve.” Axel said bluntly towards the other hunter. He had his own people he was hunting; both vampire and werewolf. He had yet to figure out who they were and it only fed into the rage he felt. He could relate to Connor, but Axel sure as hell wasn’t going to sugar coat anything. If Connor wanted that, then he’d have to go find someone else to talk to. “We can try to be one or two steps ahead of them next time. Preferably three, but that’s impossible with the things we are dealing with.” 

“Yes we all have drives and something to destroy in the name of them,” Connor countered, quietly contemplating his glass as Axel continued. It was a wonder he hadn’t driven himself to madness but there was a very good chance he was on the brink of. Vengeance had a way of burrowing and festering to the point of insanity- and he wasn’t entirely certain he wouldn’t end up in the outer ring with the most distasteful bunch of humanity. “Can’t get ahead if we can’t infiltrate the highest level of their commands. I tried and was almost there until the Overlord went missing and now I’m back at square one. The Commander-” he very nearly called Damien by name but knew in present company it might seem a bit odd, “won’t allow me to do what I need to do to get closer. He says it’s insane, I think he forgot who he was talking to.”

demoniawrtsx​:

Nights were often accompanied by the usual tossing and turning, a restless mind never leaving any peace for a proper sleep. His bed was usually empty, his room quiet, and it left the night wide open for him to think, plan, and worry until he gave in to exhaustion. With Connor he felt comfortable, dare-say even living in the moment and allowing himself to not burn out on the countless tasks he had ahead of him. Not once had he moved throughout the night, comforted by the steady heartbeat against his ear and the warmth of a body he could wrap himself around every night. That nagging internal alarm was the only reason he couldn’t further enjoy it now.

He grunted lightly as he stirred, inhaling deeply as he shifted his head against Connor’s chest. It took him a groggy moment to remember where he was and who he was with, but no sooner did he hear the other man’s voice did he smile and let himself settle back into a content and comfortable position–clearly not intending to move so soon. “M’sorry.” He yawned, shifting the arm so that it draped over Connor’s waist. His eyes rested on a blossoming bruise on Connor’s abdomen, and he gently ran his thumb over it, all the while thankful that among the ones they’d lost at that hellish circus, Connor had not been one of them. That was something Damien never would have been able to recover from.

His friendship with Connor was deep, their trust unbreakable–but ever since that kiss on the boardwalk Damien had to finally acknowledge the feelings he had for his best friend far surpassed anything he’d ever felt for anyone else. He wanted nothing more than this right here; to lay against Connor, to hold him, touch him, until he could finally work past whatever invisible barrier that kept him from saying what he truly felt. 

“You got the time?” Not that it mattered. Although Damien had never been late for a meeting or training–as Commander he could get away with it if need be.

Trust was a hard thing to find in their world; most often it was broken by the weakness of others. Connor had learned a long time ago that he couldn’t trust anyone- except for Damien. He had always been an exception. To every possible thing that might arise. If there was one thing he could be grateful for, it was this moment. When one eye popped open to view him from below, and the curve of his lips as he smiled- and Connor was certain in that second of waking, he wasn’t even aware that he smiled. It was a nice thing to see. It had been so long since either of them had smiled about much of anything- and if they had- it was always layered with just a hint of bitter. But this was pure, and kind, and lovely. He reached down to continue brushing his fingers through the man’s hair, distracted by the way he looked so much so that he didn’t even register the question.

The light of him swelled in the hunter’s chest, offering a sweet warmth that didn’t feel like it was burning him alive. A soft sigh left his lips as the question finally hit him. With a grumble, he reached shove his hand beneath the pillows in search of his phone. He glanced at the screen before shoving it back where it had been stored for the night. “Time is an illusion,” he started, a classic deflection that he’d lent on when he wanted to stay somewhere a little bit longer, “but it’s about six thirty.” He’d always been the reason they were late for training in their teens. He hated crawling out of bed when he’d been so comfortable next to Damien, and he should have known then that this was bound to be something more than friendship.

It was a thing he’d been struggling with all of his life it seemed, and he was glad he’d finally caved. Now if only he could say it all out loud. That would be a feat to achieve. He nudged Damien’s chin with his knuckle, wanting him to scoot upward to he could pepper him in kisses. He’d never understood how people could attach themselves to someone, not until now. He wanted to kiss him all the time. Press against him and melt into his skin. He wondered how long it might take before he took the next leap- and before he could stop his mind from running away from itself, he was imagining what Damien might look like beneath him. Big mistake, brain.

He shifted, trying to hide what had arisen in spite of him. “Need the bathroom,” he muttered, wholly reluctant to move, but inclined to do so in order to get rid of the morning hindrance.

struggle : my muse finds your muse in a struggle with someone else, or a group of people, and they offer to help your muse.

Since escaping the maze and discovering the ones lost during the chaos, Damien had been riddled with unease. Khaos had known where to find him, had attacked him among many others, and if he truly wanted to destroy what was left of the humans–he certainly had the means to do so. Patrols had doubled, as had protocols for coming in and out of the Hideout. Damien had never been much of a risk taker before when it came to everyone’s safety, and he wasn’t about to start now.

In neutral territory, the air was thick with apprehension, and apparently Damien wasn’t the only one feeling overly aggressive. He heard the sounds of a scuffle coming from a vacant street corner, and would have thought nothing of it had it not been for the sound of Connor’s voice. The reason for the fight and the aggressor at fault hardly mattered, and as the two of them separated and prepared to go at each other again, Damien was between them with his gun trained on the man fighting Connor.

At first glance, he appeared to be another human, but not one of their own, and Damien motioned with his gun for the stranger to back off. “Make sure your next decision is a smart one…get going.”

@demoniawrtsx​

Stress was like the fuel for the fire of his rage and after the carnival, he could not find it within himself to relax. There simply hadn’t been time. While the doubling down on patrols was smart, and incredibly necessary, Connor could never turn down an opportunity to walk. Even if it was the same halls he walked all his life so much so that he could do it in total darkness- and had. If it meant he didn’t have to sleep, he wouldn’t. He was exhausted. Running on fumes; whisky, and the prayer that perhaps he might not pass out to avoid the nightmares. He’d taken the day off on Cole’s orders, and he was hard pressed to tell him no. He’d already been trapped in a room once with the man, he wasn’t about to risk that again.

This led him here, to the shitty bar that he only drank at because it was neutral and there would always be room for a fight. Problem was, he had barely stepped over the threshold before he was being heaved out of the way by a drunken fae. If he’d slept, he might have brushed it off, but it was just enough flame to burn him up. The fight started at the front door, and led all the way down the street, mostly due to Connor kicking the bastard half way down it. Something else consumed him then- at the moment when Damien rounded the corner and he didn’t even know- he was not himself.

At the shove, he almost threw a punch- but when his brain registered the face, he stopped midair. Swallowing, heaving breath, he lent over to break from the battle that was really all his own. The Fae was too bloody and terrified to argue. Of course, he wasn’t moving very quickly yet but that didn’t matter, he left without so much as a word- if he could talk around his swollen jaw. “Why’d you stop me?” He shook out his hands, glancing them over with the realization he might have broken a bone somewhere among all of the punching. “I was fine.”

“Odd seeing a human alone in these parts.”

Kazimir’s voice was like silk, hardly an echo as he spoke softly from the darkness. The Darklands were cold, lifeless, barely offering much of anything that deemed it a welcoming place. For a human to be here without someone ushering them along, or for it to be someone without the familiar scent and mark of a feeder, was beyond odd. The vampire’s first thought is they were up to no good, but given the Overlord’s recent disappearance and his lack of interest in the messy alliances, Kazimir was merely curious as to what drove the human here. Beyond that, he hardly cared.

“I take it you are not lost–you move as if you’ve been here before.” He went on as he stepped into the open, leveling his gaze with the other man.

@demoniawrtsx​

The loss of the vampire had scorned Connor deeply. It was something he could barely stomach- that festering feeling toxic in the pit of his stomach strangled him on his best days. Crumpled him on his worse. And in all of his sleepless nights, he formulated a fool’s errand. Stepping into the vampire’s territory was asking for death, but he imagined with the Overlord missing, it wouldn’t matter near as much. He could still feel her cold hands on his skin and it sickened him to no end. At the sound of Kazimir, Connor stood still in his tracks, hand on his weapon. Poised- and ready for anything that might come next. He turned, knowing damn well he couldn’t do anything here.

Debating an answer, he eyes the vampire up and down, sized him up. They were so deceptive. Looked human. Until you touched them. “I was a consort of the Overlord. Before she...disappeared. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”

(Sleep: my  muse  falls  asleep  on  your  muse,  making  it  hard  for  my  muse  to  leave. )

Warm. The first thought Connor had as he rubbed his bleary eyes. The soft orange glow in the bunker permeated the room, and as he attempted to shift to sit up, he realized there was a body on top of him. Damien snored softly, slanted completely across Connor’s chest to the point that his feet hung off the side of the bed. With one eye open, he stared down at the man, trying to remember how this happened. It all came rushing back to him; and a smile swathed his face. Too much drinking- and quite a lot of talking- and some very heated touching. It wasn’t until around midnight that they realized how late they’d been out and with morning patrols. Connor couldn’t stay up much longer. Damien had insisted (really only had to ask once) if he could sleep in the bed with him.

A chuckle left his lips as he danced his fingers through the messy tuft of blonde hair, traced fingers down his jaw, and was ultimately fascinated with how young Damien looked like this. Like the world wasn’t crashing down around them and it would all be fine. All the stress lines he carried between his eyes had relaxed- and gods help him, the hunter did not want to wake the commander up. He longed to freeze this moment in time, but soon enough, he felt the stir of his new partner, and grunted when an elbow jabbed right into his bladder. “Damien...ouCH.”

(Fight: Your muse stops mine from getting into a fight).

The wounds he nursed from the maze brought him to the epicenter of The Haven, where he knew he’d find the kind of medicine he’d need to heal them quickly. Bringing Axel along had been more for a percautionary measure than anything else; not to mention how curious Connor had become when it came to Axel and Damien’s relationship. He had yet to mention it- had instead chosen to observe from afar in the hopes that he might just be dreaming it all up, but the telltale signs were there.

Harboring the frustration carried over from that and the loss of the vampire who had wooed his mother, Connor was back on the knife’s edge. Bartering had never been his strong suit; he preferred to use force and intimidation to get what he wanted. Problem was, he was weak, and exhausted. As he haggled back and forth with the shop keep, he grew more and more agitated, until he was rearing back to knock the old man right off his feet. When he felt the hand wrap around his wrist, he turned, hissing and staring daggers at Axel. “Back the fuck up.”

ONE WORD STARTER PROMPTS;

secrets :   my  muse  sharing/confiding  their  deepest,  darkest  secret  with  your  muse.

nightmare :   my  muse  coming  to  your  muses  aid  when  they  awake  from  a  nightmare.

push :   my  muse  pushing  your  muse  out  of  the  way  of  danger/out of anger (specify which).

embrace :   my  muse  abruptly  throwing  their  arms  around  your  muse,  hugging  them  tightly.

bloody :   my  muse  coming  to  your  muse  with  blood  stains  on  their  clothes  and  hands,  shaking.

drunk :   my  muse  takes  care  of  your  muse  while  they  are  in  a  drunken  state.

bed :   my  muse  wakes  up  in  the  same  bed  as  your  muse  with  little  recollection  of  the  night  before.

slap :   my  muse  slaps  your  muse  across  the  face  out  of  anger.

scream :   my  muse  hears  your  muse  scream  and  quickly  runs  to  their  side.

sleep :   my  muse  falls  asleep  on  your  muse,  making  it  hard  for  my  muse  to  leave.

stalk :   my  muse  gets  caught  by  your  muse  trailing  behind  them,  watching  them.

carry :   my  muse  carries  your  muse  to  their  house,  either  drunk,  or  a  weakened  state,  can  specify.

lighter :   my  muse  pulls  out  a  lighter  and  lights  it  for  your  muse  to  use  to  light  their  cigarette.

shot :   my  muse  gets  shot  and  struggles  to  your  muses  house  for  aid.

wound :   my  muse  patches  and  bandages  a  wound  your  muse  has  gotten.

fight :   my  muse  stops  your  muse  from  getting  into  a  physical  fight  with  someone  else.

arrest :   your  muse finds that my muse has broken one of the law’s and is in a holding cell.

hospital :   my  muse  awakens  in  a  hospital,  finding  your  muse  by  their  side,  asking  what  happened.

gun : my  muse  pulls  out  a  gun  on  your  muse,  your  muse  tries  to  talk  them  into  putting  the  gun  down.

betrayal :  my  muse  finds  out  that  your  muse  has  betrayed  them  in  same  way  and  confronts  them  about  it.

nude : my  muse  walks  in  on  your  muse  accidentally  seeing  them  naked.

laughter :   my  muse  hears  your  muse  laughing  uncontrollably  and  approaches  to  see  if  they  are  okay.

murder :   my  muse  walks  in  on  your  muse  committing  a  gruesome  murder.

wet :   my  muse  strips  down  to  their  under  garments  and  runs  into  the  water,  motioning  for  your  muse  to  join  them.

accuse : my muse starts accusing your muse of something then did or didn’t do (can choose which one).

drink : my muse offers to buy your muse a drink. 

negotiate : my muse understands that they may be in the wrong but they start trying to make a deal with your muse.

run : my muse is running away from something or someone until they collide straight into my muse.

struggle : my muse finds your muse in a struggle with someone else, or a group of people, and they offer to help your muse.

threaten : my muse is getting awfully tired of being treated a certain way and threatens your muse.

bite/claw : my muse comes to your muse after a few days of not seeing them with bite/claw marks. (specify which)

magic : your muse uses their magic on mine, (specify what kind/what it does). 

lost : my muse and yours have been lost in (specify territory) all night. They have to try to work together to get to safety. 

I do hope this invitation has found you well – along with the attached ticket for my Circus; I promise to offer you a night filled with W O N D E R and K H A O S, it’s what I do best, sweet crooked soul. You’re not easy to track down I hope you know, but don’t worry, the Hideout’s location is safe with me, C R O S S my heart. Step foot on the Carnival’s land and you’re in my W O R L D; that means you’re my guest and if you listen to rumours that travel, you know that I take my invitees very seriously. They’re well looked after and I’ve so many games for you to play, please, do indulge in them all.

I also pick remarkably carefully, only those who would appreciate the fineries; the bazaar and the magic that reminds us all of what we’ve missed, what luxuries remain in a place so overrun by K A R N A G E are welcome upon my grounds. I only offer my services as a performer, I do hope you attend.

And if you do, my only request: please be prompt.

Because the Carnival waits for no one, and trust me on this if nothing else, it’s a sight you won’t want to miss.

Yours truly,

Khaos

One night stands had never turned into a show of favoritism, and yet Connor had held fast to Damien’s heart for years that he could get away with practically anything. Harsh tones and words would always go dismissed, even shows of defiance would merely earn a hard glare–but there was no questioning Connor’s loyalty, nor was there any doubt that Damien trusted him wholeheartedly. And now there was this: affection that burned a fire they perhaps both tried to hide, because Damien knew how frail their lives were and how easy it was for one of them to meet an early death every time they stepped foot outside of the Hideout.

No attachments meant less pain when the inevitable happened, but losing Connor had always been a terrible fear of his, and as much effort as he had put into ignoring the pull that drew him in the other man’s direction, he’d always known he loved him. Without him, this fight hardly meant anything at all. While Damien did his best to lead the humans into a release from hiding, he worked twice as hard to give Connor a world where he might smile again.

So easily was he pulled towards the cushioned corner of the boardwalk, completely willing and utterly starved for the attention he’d craved since they were younger. He could think of nothing more than keeping Connor secured in his arms, and later could they worry about what this meant for them–but he heard the unwelcome sound and felt the tension ripple through the hunter’s body. That rush of adrenaline kept him from cursing the interruption, and no sooner did Connor’s gun go off did Damien tug his own from within his jacket and level it with the creature that revealed itself.

Gleaming fangs as he smiled revealed him to be a vampire, but regardless of what he was, most sudden strangers up here could only be perceived as threats. Damien was ready to fire his clip into the beast without hesitation when he heard the strain of Connor’s voice and realized with a worried twist in his chest, that his best friend’s greatest enemy and kindle for vengeance was standing before them. He could end it all here and be done with it, vanquish those reckless thoughts that had been circling Connor’s head. His eyes narrowed as he stood shoulder to shoulder with Connor, gun trained with a steady hand as the other slipped discreetly towards a small pocket on his sleeve. “What the fuck do you want?” He asked the vampire sharply, already pulling a small vile to hold securely within his palm, keeping it out of sight.

A cacophony of utter terror, incendiary rage, and icy shock wound their way around Connor’s chest all at once. He was crippled in place, the gun in his hand trembling for the first time since he’d become a full fledged hunter. In the split seconds it took Damien to level at his side, Connor was certain that his own heart had stopped and started again. Or that he’d slipped into some kind of alternate reality where he was trapped in the loop of watching his mother caress this disgusting creature and confess her love to him. He wanted nothing more than to rip its head from its shoulders. Impale it on a stake and throw it into the vampire’s domain as a warning to her and the rest of them.

The little boy inside of him cried- cried out for help- for his mother- for the loss of his father and he was simply frozen, unable to speak any more than he already had. His fingers itched to grab Damien’s arm. To convey some sort of thanks for him being there. To give him something other than stunned silence. But nothing came and the seconds ticked by as the vampire stared at him and he at it. The voice that breached the silence was of course the Commander- who else would it be?

The vampire answered, calmly, as if two hunters weren’t on the verge of killing him. “I wanted to see what all the fuss was about. After the Overlord went missing..” he trailed off to look directly at Connor with a discerning eye. “You look just like her, you know. It’s in the eyes.”

Connor didn’t mean to move. He’d meant to stay planted right there, to wait- to see what he might learn from this- but the mention of her and he was nothing more than his wrath and his decrepit ache that ate him alive from the inside. He surged forward, discarding the gun for something more personal. Pulled the blade from its sheath and aimed directly for the vampire’s neck. He didn’t make it, of course. He was instead tossed to the side, and he landed with a groan, back slammed against the old wood slats of the boardwalk. All of the air left his lungs in a great exhale, fingers as tense against the handle of his blade as his jaw was against his teeth. “Kill him,” he hissed to Damien, “fucking- kill him.”

Damien had imagined this moment–this fantasy–more times than he cared to count. It had chased him in dreams, had clouded his focus when they sparred together, and left him wondering for years what could be if only he’d attempt to cross that unspoken boundary. As attentive as he could be in bed, it was common for him to even imagine Connor in place of who he was with, though no amount of imagination and quiet hopes could have prepared him for this. 

It was a sort of horrified surprise the moment their lips touched–Damien convinced it to be a simple awkward mistake they would have to somehow laugh off before heading inside, but the intention became clear, and he found himself drowning in a sudden tidal wave of emotion that stole his breath just as easily as Connor’s lips had. Any doubt of what he felt was shattered, leaving the vulnerabilities beneath bare and raw and so easily within Connor’s grasp. This man was a whirlwind, stripping Damien down and leaving him trembling with needs he’d suppressed for far too long. He returned the kiss with the same vigor, feeling his blood surge and his heart ache for something besides the grief he’d carried. Since the death of his father, Connor had been his closest friend, perhaps his only friend, and the admission of him being all he had left had rang with such deeper truth than perceived. If there was anyone left in this world Damien loved–it was Connor Maven. It had always been him.

His arm wound its way around Connor’s waist, holding on to him as if he was too afraid to let go. If this was a dream, may he never wake–but the feel of the hunter against him, the taste of him–there was no denying this was anything less than reality. Fingers curled desperately into Connor’s hair, a clear indication that this was wanted just as badly, that nothing besides the two of them mattered in that moment. 

Curse the need for air breaking their lips apart, but Damien filled his lungs and couldn’t be damned for words. They didn’t need them. He looked into those dark pools for just a beat and reconnected their lips once more, feeling the sting of regret for not doing this years sooner.

There were lines that shouldn’t be crossed- leader and subordinate being the most prominent- but Connor had never seen Damien as anything other than someone that belonged with him. Their lives had always been messy, uncoordinated, and dangerous. The risk of loving someone, really loving them, was so much higher than the reward that came with it- at least, that was how he felt. That falling in love meant risking death in the wake of losing them- literally. His map had been drawn long before he could discern the path, and it seemed it was always meant to lead here.

With his hands buried in the wheat colored locks, and his heart pounding like a hammer to an anvil, he drowned himself in this moment. It was a violent desire, and he knew without a shadow of doubt that he would never want to come back from it. Didn’t want to break for air. Connor wanted to freeze, right here, with the taste of the Commander on his tongue, with their chests matching heaving breaths for the need of it- and suddenly he knew what it meant to be so enamoured and invested in someone else that he would burn the world down, betray the community, and even let himself be torn apart to protect- to be with. Loyalty could speak volumes, but fuck, this kind of love was rarely ever realized.

The mutual understanding they’d always had seemed to blossom in the seconds between their reconnection and he was pulling Damien toward a pile of pillows that had been drug up to the boardwalk some time ago. But in the wake of their footsteps, he heard another. A crack from the canopy above, and his instincts kicked in. The gun at his hip was unsheathed and pointed upward as he pulled back from the soul-searing kiss. Of fucking course fate would ruin it, because why the hell would it allow anyone a brief reprieve from the chaos their world.

A shadow shifted through the trees, and he popped off a warning shot. He leveled his gaze with Damien for a moment before returning back to the matter at hand, just as the vampire dropped down from above. He froze- the thrumming of his blood slowed to run cold at who stood across from them- the vampire that had run off with his mother. He’d never learned the blood sucker’s name, but apparently all his probing around in the community had done good. “Damien its-” he started, throat drier than the wasteland, “its him.” It felt like being fourteen years old again, pressed against a crumbling pillar as he watched his mother wrap her arms around the beast- and his nightmares of her consummation that followed.