#ft. valentin

Christmas, Magnai had assumed, was at least a one-off. Not once in their long acquaintance had the varcolac seen Spain's councilman dress in such a fashion and on the heels of their last conversation, he'd nearly felt like he was being baited. Was that a bad thing? Magnai hadn't determined his answer yet, but he'd given it a good shot eyeing all that bare expanse of back across from the Christmas banquet. He hadn't said a word, though. Wrong place, wrong time. And he might not have been the one Valentin was trying to bait, either way.

Tucked off to the side of the sparring rings, Adrasia watched the vampire train and longed for his sword. He'd relinquished it long before the castles had gotten ahold of him but the celestial had never forgotten the feeling of the weapon in his hand, an extension of his will and his body, effortless. He thought perhaps the councilman understood that feeling as time slipped by watching Valentin pace through his exercises.

It had been unintentional, this voyeurism. Adrasia above all despaired at idleness and now that he was Roland's, there was a remarkable amount of time given to him for whatever the angel desired. The gymnasium was one of the simplest ways to make that time disappear, if he could tailor his visits to when it was most likely to be empty. The weariness of physical exertion never used to matter to Adrasia, but now it almost felt like a challenge to prove to himself he wouldn't succumb to something as trivial as an aching in his limbs. He was not alone, though, today. He had thought to slink by unnoticed until he had realized what the councilman was up to and spied the training weapon in his hand. Some fought here for entertainment, yes, but Valentin was alone and moved as grimly as if he was readying for war. Adrasia stared and felt the echoes of his own time as a soldier and wondered what the other man was training for.

It was just past dawn when Magnai felt the first true pangs of his rut take hold. He recognized it by the gnawing drive that couldn't be flesh-hunger, not after the way he'd gorged himself the night before anticipating what was to come. Denying himself had led to disaster before, so when the cravings found direction the varcolac let them lead him back into the castle, taking only the time to wash the hunt from his hands before his path led him towards the councilman's quarters. This was no unfamiliar craving either. It was one reason Magnai had long made an effort to rut with different partners every time, ones that would be far away when the cycle came around again: inevitably his instincts drove him first towards the ones the alpha had taken before to reassert his claim. A tricky thing if done at Krovs, when a slave could be owned by his next rut. But with another vampire...

Valentin's suite was quiet when Magnai let himself in, pale eyes gleaming in the half-light coming through the shaded windows. The ancient had given him a potent invitation not so long ago. He remembered the heaviness of Valentin's stare when he'd said it, intoning that Magnai was welcome to his bed any time he wished it. Enticing on any given day. Inevitable now, when the alpha could just as vividly remember the way Valentin had whined beneath him the first time he'd taken him in rut. He didn't hesitate even in the dark bedroom, seeing the gentle shape of the other's body beneath the covers, for once taking the rest Magnai knew he denied himself just as often as he refused to feed.

It was a matter of time until they saw each other again, as doggedly as Magnai had been avoiding the councilman. He'd humiliated himself thoroughly, said several things that shouldn't have been voiced, no matter if they were true. If Valentin still wanted anything to do with him, surely he would have approached the varcolac himself by this time, Magnai was certain. He would wait, stoic as he ever was, to see if there was any salvaging the camaraderie between them or it he should satisfy himself with distant professionalism from hereon. That would not have been so horrible, he argued with himself, it was Magnai's natural state, after all. Still, it had seemed like Valentin had wanted to indulge in something more. Something different.

Brooding on such fraught, emotion-based quandaries was not the alpha's way. What's done was done. But he still felt that stiff discomfort in his spine when he first glimpsed the Spaniard across the ballroom, Valentin unmistakable to him even behind the dramatic mask. The long coat over his suit nearly looked like a housecoat instead, domestic and refined all at once. The thought only made Magnai feel more uneasy which in turn only ignited a stern determination, contrary against his own discomfort. If there was going to be professionalism, it would have to be addressed. Perhaps Valentin had not approached him because Magnai was on the hook for it first, having been in the wrong. He ground his teeth a long moment, irritated by the revelation, before he arranged the right words.

"Councilman Socorro," The words came out level as the alpha approached the elder, inclining his head, eyes lowered, "I won't disturb you for long." Magnai lifted his chin again, expression carefully blank beneath his mask. "I believe I owe you an apology for my conduct the last time we met. I have no intentions to repeat the behavior, be assured. And no ill will towards you for yours. It was... a reasonable interference." The slightest grimace creased his lips, "It won't happen again."