Forever Hunting You

The emotions flickering through the celestial spirit’s aura wasn’t what Raptor expected, he was looking for anger and scorn, a rejection. Battle spirits didn’t accept blood from just any mage who was willing to open a vein for them, they only took from the ones they deem worthy. That look of need and want on Aetos’ face made Raptor’s breath catch audibly, he felt it was hard to swallow with his heart hammering away in his throat, matching the very need and desire thrumming through him. Raptor held still as Aetos took his wrist his body tense and trembling dark golden eyes wide with his shock as Aetos bowed his head over Raptor’s hand, meeting those crimson eyes watching him.

Raptor didn’t plan on Aetos to actually accept his offering, he didn’t pull away as a shiver ran through his body at the brush of lips across the unmarred skin. He bit his lower lip as Aetos’ tongue laved the wound on his wrist quickly cleaning up the droplets of blood that had started welling to the surface feeling in that instant when a knot forming in his guts started easing, a pull of his magic as when Aetos accepted the offering and took his blood it was now Raptor’s might that kept Aetos to the physical plane in the same manner as if he opened Aetos’ gate with a key. A soft sigh escaped him almost of relief eyes sharpening and focused solely on the battle spirit before him, his frame unconsciously straightening taller, shoulders square but a touch relaxed. Raptor held his chin up as he brought his hand still holding the key to brush his knuckles lightly along the side of Aetos’ face before the spirit straightened.

“A… contract.” The words came out slowly as if they were words that Raptor had never uttered before as his eyes first followed the mote of light upwards. His eyes came downward to Aetos’ form and a low sound escaped from him, having the battle spirit nude before him. Raptor liked the fact that Aetos heeded his order, his own body tightened as arousal and need crashed through him, his brain fogging up with lust. “Y-you will fill every of my desires,” Raptor’s eyes glinted, he smirked at that, “mine to call, anytime, anywhere, f-for how long I wish. A-as long as I hold your key, I only summon you.” He repeated the words, the metal of the silver key biting into his hand as he tightened his grip on it.

Aetos noted the brush of knuckles and the soft sigh, the straightening and the release of tension in Raptor’s frame. It all caused him to grin, his wings flaring behind him as Raptor’s power poured into him, anchoring him to this plane so he wasn’t using his own power to do so. He didn’t let go of Raptor’s wrist, watching closely the taller man’s reactions to the contract. A smug smirk curved his lips at the low sound from Raptor as the Mage took in his nude form, knowing his body was showing his arousal and making no attempt to hide it.

Crimson eyes locked onto golden as Raptor repeated the terms of the contract – including the clause. A slight tension went out of Aetos’ shoulders, one that would have been undetectable if he’d been wearing anything. He took a step forward to close the bare distance between them as Raptor’s hand tightened on his Key – a Key that throbbed in time with Aetos’ heartbeat as well as... other things.

Shawn Williams slouched, hands in his pockets and wishing that the floor would crack open and swallow him whole. Shouldn’t be too hard, he thought wryly considering he only felt a few inches tall after the tongue lashing his grandmother had given him. He had broken family law, cast a Hex for free, for no real reason besides he was feeling vengeful and flexed his power over his teacher. 

He expected karmic backlash for it, waited for it to come back on to him that he was willing to use his verve, his magic and willingly harmed another. It didn’t come and Shawn was utterly confused, all his life he was taught about The Law of Return, warned of the consequences, just no one in his family told him about the loophole they made, binding another person with a mystical bond that would make that person. his scapegoat, take the backlash as if there were the ones who made the spell. When Shawn found that part out, he felt sick to his stomach, that was yesterday. When he got out of school today he discovered that his grandmother arranged for him to meet his scapegoat face to face and his mind was still whirling with that.

“It’s proper etiquette to have a gift when meeting one’s scapegoat.” Kristoffer, the employee serving as Shawn’s driver spoke up. He walked the few steps behind Shawn, a vicious scar slashed across the bridge of his nose, the corners of his mouth downturned in a frown that showed displeasure. Now, Shawn was wondering if Kristoffer was a scapegoat if the scar on his nose was the result of karmic backlash that had nothing to do with him but one of Shawn’s relatives.

Shawn flinched unable to meet the gaze and disapproval on Kristoffer’s face. He had been thinking about that tradition too and knew that it was a very bad precedent he was making here. A gift was given at the first meeting, at subsequent times and Shawn already broke rules, injuring his scapegoat before they met, before the first gift. He traced his tongue over his teeth, spotting the door to the study that he was told to go in and paused, standing outside of the hall, his mind racing trying to figure out how he could make this not be the disaster that it was setting up to be. He turned to Kristoffer, extending out one hand.

“Car keys.” Shawn noticed the confused expression on the driver’s face, he stared up into the man’s face, determination on his own that he would not be turned down from his gambit of salvaging this. “Please,” he politely asked, seeing a flash of recognition go through Kristoffer’s eyes, a grin on the driver’s face as he handed them over. 

“The kid’s my nephew,” Kristoffer murmured as he placed the car keys into Shawn’s hand. “I can arrange to get the title changed over.”

“Arrange he pays for nothing,” Shawn ordered his right hand wrapping around the keys and key fob while trying to place this new information into his head. Nephew. He was meeting another male. He almost wanted to ask Kristoffer about him, to get any and all information he could but Kristoffer was already briskly walking away as if a man on a mission, leaving Shawn alone to the hallway by the door. “Right,” Shawn’s stomach plummeted, nerves roiling through him as he took a shaky breath, left hand reaching out and opened the door, his head high, forcing his body to be relaxed as he strolled into the study that used to belong to his grandfather, his dark eyes meeting hazel eyes that caught him off guard how intense they were.

“H-hey.” He couldn’t help the stammer, not when suddenly he felt hot anger that wasn’t his own, like standing near a bonfire and getting hit by angry sparks. His eyes widened and his hand tightened around the car keys. He paused a moment, mind trying to figure out the right thing to say and not remembering if it was mentioned at all. “Name’s Shawn. Can I… can I get you anything?” 

Sean’s eyes widened when a guy his age walked into the room, and looked past him to see if anyone else was in the corridor before his eyes flicked back to meet dark ones; this wasn’t who he had expected, and his eyes narrowed slightly as he stared at the taller teen, waiting to see what he’d say. Sean’s arms were crossed, fingers digging into the material of his zip-up hoodie, trying to hide apprehension behind anger - and wondering who this was, as he’d been expecting one of the Williams witches. 

Dark hair, tall, broad shoulders - dressed well, and attractive. His deep voice made Sean want to hear more of it, and he locked his gaze with that dark one and felt like he was falling in, like he was caught in a spell and couldn’t look away. He blinked and shifted as the other spoke, privately grateful that he’d broken the spell but not dropping his gaze from those dark eyes. 

Sean shook his head at the question on if he needed anything; he wanted to go home, but doubted that would happen until the Williams got whatever they wanted from him being here. He took a deep breath, and regained his anger as a shield. “Yeah, I’m Sean. Why, they got enough guys tucked around in spare rooms around here that you gotta check?” He fired off without thinking, then something made him pause. 

He wasn’t sure if it was an expression on the other’s face, change of stance, or what - but he realized that he’d misunderstood. “....Your name’s Sean too, isn’t it?” The thought threw him off the anger he was trying to hold onto in order to hide behind, and he paused a moment, before shaking his head sharply. “What, they think they by sending a-” he bit his tongue on the word cute, “-guy my age and with my name in here that I’ll be more willing to do whatever it is they want?”

Shawn was sure he saw Sean’s car still parked in its spot out in the back parking lot and that’s why he was prowling the hallways still, eyes sharp and on the lookout for him. He knew Sean wasn’t on any of the team sports and didn’t bother looking through the practice fields or the gymnasium, he first went through the science labs, slightly disappointed he wasn’t here. He tapped his fingers on his thigh, head tilted and closing his eyes. Breathe in, breathe out, they were magically linked, something that could be ignored most of the time, but right now Shawn tapped into his verve, thinking only of those intense hazel eyes, that dark hair, and the scar on his right wrist that he will forever bear, that was all Shawn’s fault. 

He opened his eyes, glancing around one more time, frowning slightly as he shook his head. Not here still, but he felt an urge to walk out of the room. Sighing, Shawn shrugged and followed the feeling, instead of taking a left towards the classrooms that were for English and computer class he took a right towards the auditorium and the part of the academy that had the art studios. He passed the two band rooms and the shelves nearly overflowing with pottery projects, turning into a classroom he hadn’t been in before. Instead of the chairs in rows, the chairs and a few benches circled around the room facing a stool that stood in the center of the room. The feeling to move, to act left, with a tension in Shawn’s shoulders easing as his eyes met Sean’s peeking out at him from under the arm thrown over the other’s head, eyes lighting up as he grinned at his soulmate.

“Hey,” Shawn greeted, taking a seat on the stool, a declaration he had no plans on leaving anytime soon, arms crossing in front of his chest as he took in Sean, the drawing pad in his left hand, “doing homework?” It was a guess, but there was required drawing in these art classes, right? Shawn hadn’t been in an art class for years, he didn’t have any talent or inclination for it. Williams, he thought wryly to himself, focused themselves on a completely different art type with their magic. 

Sean’s eyes widened as the very person he was thinking of came into the room, grinning at him and eyes lighting up in a way Sean noticed, the expression transformed Shawn’s face. He was happy to see Sean, and this floored Sean, every time, how Shawn treated him like a person he wanted to spend time with - not how Sean had expected him to act when he found out he was a Williams. He dropped his arm off his face and sat up, hazel eyes focused on Shawn as he walked across the room and took a seat on the model’s stool, Sean admiring the confident movements. “Hey,” he greeted in return, mouth quirking in a wry smile as he realized Shawn was sitting right where Sean had been staring blankly earlier when he’d been attempting to sketch him. A sudden flush rose to his cheeks and he hurriedly flipped the sketchpad over, suddenly embarrassed to have the one he’d been daydreaming about see the sketch of himself. 

“Homework?” He lifted the drawing pad, facing him, and dropped his gaze so he could study the sketch, hair falling forward a little and hoping that Shawn hadn’t noticed his blush. “Nah, I’d already done that, just... practicing.” Staring at the sketch he could already see where he’d gone wrong - at least he could with the real thing sitting in front of him. He huffed a sigh, and ripped that page off the pad, crumpling it up and dropping it to the floor to join the two balls of rejected drawings already there. “Kinda need the practice, still can’t really get what I have in my head down right most of the time.”

“C’mon, Beulah,” Skylar Williamson murmured to the huge Newfoundland that took most of the truck cab. “B-bus’ll be here any minute before its b-back to the bed of the truck for you.” He rocked on his feet, a grin spreading his face as he waited for huge black mass to amble out before closing the driver’s side door behind both of them. He glanced down real quick to recheck the clothing he wore: his nice pair of cowboy boots dark grey and black, a pair of Levi’s that he knew fit just right, a heavier hooded sweatshirt over a nice button down light purple dress shirt because it was getting colder with winter coming.

Shawn stepped forward, rolling his hips forward to keep Sean pinned to the alley wall, his hands roaming over leather straps and the dark material of the vigilante outfit the other man wore. He wasn’t sure who leaned in first to start this kiss, that didn’t matter, all that mattered that his mouth was on Sean’s, that his hands were on Sean’s and establishing the fact that they were here, together and from what he could tell from the few days of being apart Sean seemed to be in roughly the same condition that Shawn had last seen him in. 

He shifted under the hands roaming down his back, over his shirt, his breathing was jagged as he felt Sean pull his button down shirt out of his slacks, felt those bare hands on his skin, a shiver running through him as he breathily murmured Sean’s name, his own hands still tracing along the leather straps on Sean’s upper thighs, seemingly content with this contact. His eyes, dark from desire widened slightly as he felt Sean’s fingertips tracing along an ancient scar he sometimes forgot was even there considering he couldn’t see it. 

“T-that?” He tilted his head and leaned in again, taking the time to gather his thoughts by brushing his lips against Sean’s again. He’d rather make out than talk but this was important, it meant a lot to him that Sean was curious about him and he wanted this, wanted Sean to know more about him. He looked a little embarrassed. “B-back when I was a rookie, traffic stop. G-got clipped by a side-view mirror by ‘do-gooder’ driving by. First injury on the job and it fucking hurt.” His lips quirked. 

Sean’s hands convulsed on Shawn’s back at that low, deep voice murmuring his name in that tone, with their bodies pressed so intimately together, Shawn’s weight pinning him to the wall. He leaned into that brush of lips, breathing still uneven as the taller man leaned back to speak. He needed this, Shawn against him, his bare hands against skin, the warmth of their bodies touching and finding Shawn unchanged warming something deep within him.

He flashed a grin as Shawn explained, hands still stroking slowly over that scar. “First injury, but thankfully not worse,” he breathed, able to imagine it, someone distracted and driving a little too close, clipping him with the mirror. He shook his head. “I hope someone got their plates....” He flashed a smirk. “If you got their name, I could... pay them a visit to remind them to drive more carefully?” 

Raptor’s awareness came back to him slowly, before he even opened his eyes. Aware of the dull pounding of his head, aware of how hot and heavy his body felt like he could barely move it, aware how dry his mouth was like… He coughed, feeling confused it felt like he was spitting out something prickly that clung to his dry lips. Something smacked his face, jarring him to try to sit up, panicking as the weight on top of him prevented that. Raptor blearily opened one eye as his left hand reached up to push… the feathered black joint of a great wing out of his face, his right hand landed on a warm, bare shoulder. He looked down, frowning at the spill of black hair with dark purple dyed tips over one of his shoulders.

He flared his own magic and power, first allowing it to brush along Aetos’ aura before he took that final step into Aetos’ personal space, his magic dancing along Aetos’ skin, to allow Aetos a taste of who he was dealing with. Battle spirits were a gift, powerful beings built to deal out damage and to take it, all that strength and will went to serve their Celestial Wizards. Most of the time the battle spirits were the ones on the front lines bleeding for the weaker mages that held their Key and Contract, most of the time the gifts that were battle spirits were taken for granted.  Raptor had always been a powerful celestial mage, and the years spent without relying on a spirit only increased his own strength and skill, he was not one to stand on the sidelines.

He reached gracefully for Raptor’s hand, fingers drifting across skin if the back of his hand and wrist sensually. “I accept,” he breathed, voice low, dark, almost a purr. He bowed over Raptor’s wrist, eyes rolling up to meet Raptor’s dark golden ones to watch his Mage’s expression as he lowered his mouth to the cut. Aetos brushed his lips across the unblemished portion of Raptor’s wrist before parting his lips and he tasted Raptor, tongue dancing across the cut, eyes never leaving Raptor’s face.

@warpau3

“ smirk Only bloodied and kneeling, Slagger~? And here I thought you were UP for something more… interesting~”

His gaze trailed up and down the lean, tall frame amazed at the shape of the helm, and the armor, golden eyes met crimson and Raptor’s breath caught audibly. He stood up, the chair pushing back behind him abruptly and took a step forward before forcing himself to to stop, rubbing his right hand absentmindedly along his upper thigh from just the urge to touch the man. The battle spirit tied to the Aquila constellation looked exactly as the rumors Raptor heard: tall, handsome, an undeniable aura around him simply because he was a powerful battle spirit and those commanded attention and respect.

“… Aetos.” He drawled the name, gold eyes darkening as he felt the pulse of the Key he still held accelerate like a heartbeat would. He forced himself to release a breathe and take another one, a smile crossing his face still holding the throbbing Key to his mouth. “Name’s Raptor. I wasn’t expecting your… attention,” he honestly answered, considering he had no intention of actually summoning the battle spirit and was still covering up the surprise that Eagle brought himself here. 

“….Raptor~” Aetos drawled the name in a similar way as Raptor had drawled his, watching in fascination as his golden eyes shifted in shade, darkening. He raised an eyebrow at Raptor’s mention of not expecting his attention, lips curving in a smirk; with what he’d reacted to Aetos’ test with the Key, there was no way he wouldn’t have Aetos’ attention. He took a breath at the emotions rolling through Raptor’s aura; he wanted to know, wanted to experience those emotions firsthand, to know what they were, to feel them rolling and pounding against his own aura, to press their bodies together and taste the other man. The urge was strong and it surprised him; he’d never reacted to another Mage like this.

His eyes snapped back to Raptor’s mouth as the Mage trailed off, as he brought the key up to his mouth again, as his tongue slipped out to dance across the tip of the Key before moving lower to explore the teeth. Aetos took a sharp breath, eyes locked on that movement, hands convulsing around the hilt of his sword, knowing that the Key was transmitting his reaction – since it was still linked to something very personal on Aetos’ body.

Raptor’s gaze sharpened as he turned his attention back to Eagle’s key, noting how warm it felt now and the pulsating movement, his eyes widened as he realized what it made him think before he grinned, a fierce flash of teeth in his kitchen. Aetos the Eagle was a battle spirit seditious to the wrong kind of mage who wouldn't stand up for themselves. His eyes narrowed, Raptor heard about the past mages that made a Contract with Eagle and broke it later in tears because they couldn't handle him. Was this to make him do something rude as to drop the key of a Celestial spirit?

His eyes widened as he felt the brush of warm air blowing over his Key – he didn’t hear the words, not being on another plane as he was, but he recognized the sensation of breath and he bit his lower lip, shifting in his chair. True, the Key was only a Key, but… the link he’d created had to go to something.  However, it was the next action that had a low curse escaping from him as he felt the tip of his Key brush across something warm and yielding and still with a warm breath escaping over his Key. He cursed again, having a strong mental image of what the other man was doing. Surging to his feet, he strode to his Gate and assumed a wide-legged stance before it. He smirked as wrapped his wings around him and activated the glowing portal to the mortal realms.

Inside Raptor’s kitchen, glowing purple and black shadows suddenly rose from the floor, twining sinuously together as they rose before peeling back to reveal an Eagle’s head helm, beak curving down as the noseplate. Glossy black feathered wings wrapped around and concealed the figure beneath before unfurling to reveal plate armor with purple highlights, a giant sword braced before him with both hands on the hilt, and his head raising to show crimson eyes. Eagle met the golden eyes of the man sitting at the small table, focusing sharply on him and him alone. 

Raptor glared at the box sitting at his two seater breakfast table, he knew exactly why he couldn’t leave it behind at The Seekers guild HQ but it still didn’t change the self loathing that swirled in his guts. An innocent looking jewelry box but what was inside it didn’t feel so innocent, not to him. He opened the box careful not to touch what lay on a bed of dark purple velvet, swearing again angrily that it was still there. A silver skeleton key that contrasted against the dark exterior, the handle elaborately designed showing the outline of the constellation Aquila the Eagle.

Being a Celestial Wizard, it was very easy for Raptor to identify this was a Celestial key, one that opened up a gate into the celestial planes to summon a spirit to this plane. Aquila the Eagle he had heard of hear and there, a battle spirit with a chip on his shoulder and if his summoner wasn’t careful he would walk all over them. Raptor turned to the bottle he also brought home from HQ since he had the money to afford it and set about pouring himself a glass.

He hadn’t practiced Celestial magic, hadn’t held a key or contract to use his power and bridge between worlds in over five years but he still kept tabs on the celestial planes, he used his knowledge to be useful. His heart ached as his eyes went back to the key, his hand around his glass itched to reach out and touch the key, to make a connection with spirit again. Part of him figured it had to be the alcohol, he was already buzzed when the box came to his possession at Guild HQ and he had a few more drinks in there before taking the box home because he couldn’t make himself leave it there. He couldn’t.

A grin flickered across his face. He didn’t need to be here to be Summoned, of course - but if someone was going to pick up his Key again? He’d rather be alone and not in one of the pubs. He didn’t need an... audience. He’d felt a sensation of traveling from his Key, made his excuses and headed home - then felt the box open... or rather, the muffled sensation went away and he didn’t have to try as hard to sense the Mage’s aura. Masculine, strong... very strong, one of the strongest he’d met. 

He mused about that strength, matching his own, as he took another sip, before quashing the thought. Wishful thinking, this early. Time would tell on that. Aetos flicked his wings casually, wondering at the sensation of roiling emotions in the Mage’s aura. He didn’t know him, wasn’t familiar enough to identify them - not yet - but he was most definitely curious as to what the other was thinking.