#basilevs

There is a misconception that they LIKE the violence of this life. That they take a pleasure in the pain of others. True, they enjoy the JUSTICE of slitting the throat of a rapist, or knocking out an abusive husband, but it was never the blind enjoyment of blood and suffering. Adrian knows. He can see them in a way others can’t. He can see why they truly do what they do.

Were they detected, he knows how this could look; a warlock, a demon, a late night conversation with magic still clinging in the air.  Adrian’s face alone is something he’d rather not be seen unobscured–no one needed to know that he is a being with magic in his blood and skin tipped with gold.  He’s outside of the system, and his entry would do nobody any good.  

And so, thinking fast, as he hears the figure pass, as the corner of his eye registers the lathery black of a hunter’s uniform, he knows what will do the trick, make them unassuming enough, and perhaps drive the onlooker away in discomfort.

In fluid motion, half-dancer, half-actor playing the victim, he move’s Nick’s hands, one to his waist, the other to his neck, and turns, slamming Veidt’s own back against the wall.  By the time the Shadowhunter passes, their lips are pressed together, and Adrian gets the vague notion he must look like he’s being paid to do this.  

And in time, uninterested in the sort of underbelly that hadn’t got a body count, they were alone again.  He pulled away, and leaned against the wall more lax now, letting go of Nick.  

“I’m terribly sorry about that.  We had an uninvited guest, it seems.  I figured they would disappear if we looked harmless enough.  And, to add in a little fear of the unknown, displays of affection and desire never do fail to shoo them away.”

        IT FEELS STRANGE TO LIE WITHOUT WORDS.   his body moves as directed by the warlock’s hands,  pressing against him when he’s back against the wall.   he may not lie,  but he knows how to give a performance just as well as sin does.   he effectively pins the other in place, though his fingers dig a little harder into his waist than is absolutely required.   this is a play and a favour,  nothing else.

                ( quite frankly,  he couldn’t care less if he was caught. )

        his mouth meets adrian’s roughly,  though not enough to bruise,  and he plays the part until the shadowhunters have passed them by and gone out of earshot.   there’s not much space left for the warlock to pull away,  but nick takes a step to the side,  freeing him from the trap.   the apology feels more like one of alan’s than one of anyone else,  feels more like a lie than a truth,  but he doesn’t know him well enough to tell the difference  —  and he’s not sure he wants to.