Top-Hats and Measuring Sticks

Top-Hats and Measuring Sticks

Content Warning:  Top-Hats and Measuring Sticks is a M/M Paranormal Short story.  It depicts two men getting into a violent tussle that ends in an angry sexual encounter.  There is some language and sub/dom play.  Please be advised of this before reading.  If you do not wish to be subjected to this content, please do not continue reading.  Thank you for your attention.  Please be of appropriate age in your state or country to read explicit sexual, vulgar or violent content.

December 24th, 1974

Shadows were cast upon a small window where sparkling lights glittered festive notions of the season.  There were three individuals milling about behind the window, celebrating in the dead of night.  Snow shifted beneath the feet of the one watching the lone window and its occupants.  Though it was jolly above, he wouldn’t dare approach the apartment building to ask if he might join in on those reindeer games.  Le Von always kept his distance during holidays, merely watched the couple and how they made merry.

This year they managed to pick up a third rather odd little wheel, a young half-demon with a goofy demeanor.  The vampire had tried in vain not to be envious of the boy, but it is difficult when the air smelled of pie and the frost upon windows told of warmth just beyond his reach.

Adjusting his gloves and burrowed deeper into a large fur-lined coat, the top-hatted figure moved as if he might turn away from the scene.  It was the same every year.  Cyrus and Lorenz would exchange gifts, hold one another and probably make love despite having a guest.  Shuddering, though it was not against the cold, the vampire let his cane dig into the dusty white of the snow.  His dark and sorrowful shadow cast out into the street, causing a stray cat to hiss and dart down an empty alleyway.

Le Von stopped short, his head rising from beneath the top-hat to watch the cat scurry away.  Normally cats did not shy away from him.  Lowering slightly, making sure that his primly pressed pants did not touch the snow, while his long coat kissed at the willowy white drifts.  “What troubles you my furred friend?  Come back…I shall not harm you.  Come come…”  He called to the cat, holding out a gloved hand and wiggling his fingers.

The cat’s eyes gleamed, the green reflected from the scant few street lights above Le Von’s stooping figure.  However, the cat let out a growling yowl sound and continued to shy away.  Now the vampire was on edge.  He could feel the hair on the back of his neck stand up, and prickles shivered up his arms starting at the wrists.  There was someone else on that street corner with him, and the cat could sense it.

Something plunked onto the top of his hat.  Furling his brows he reached up, carefully retrieving the tiny object and bringing it down in front of his smoky gray eyes.  He turned the object over between his thumb and forefinger, muttering to himself.  “A nut?”  This time an object hit him in the back and he moved to straighten.  A red ring formed around the pupil of his eye and he turned, catching the next nut that was cast his direction.

Le Von jerked his head upwards and spied the source of flying pecan shells.  Perched atop of a streetlamp was a man.  He seemed unimposing enough, dressed in near white bellbottom jeans and a thick white jacket with purple lining at the neck.  Stepping sideways slowly Le Von drinks in the look of the man who was cracking pecans and flicking the shells in the vampire’s direction.  He looks young, with light brown hair in rolling curls and a round youthful face kissed with freckles.  His eyes were a lovely hazel mix of brown, green, purple and gray.  All things considered, he was an attractive sort, though his personality leaved something to be desired, considering he was still throwing pecan shells. 

“Sucks doesn’t it?  Always stuck out in the cold while they’re in there celebrating.”  The man on the lamppost jerked his chin in the direction of the window that Le Von was looking earlier.

Le Von felt his lip twitch, fangs threatening to protrude from his lips which were pressed into a thin unamused line until this moment.  “And what would you know of such things, stranger?”

The man snorted, placing his hands upon the light he sat and pushing off.  He seemed to float towards the ground, coming to land upon the snowy side-walk with a crunch.  “Oh, I know a whole damned lot about it.  I’ve been on the outside of that window looking in far longer than you have.  Do you think you’re the only person in this world that’s got it hard?  Damn, you’re such a whiny little vampire.  You’ve been pissing me off with that stupid top-hat of yours since…since before you were born.  And if you point out that you weren’t born wearing that thing, I’ll poke you in the eye with something sharp.”

Le Von was taken aback by the stranger’s words, moving to side-step slightly in confusion.  Of course he was offended, but the words were just so audacious that he could not comprehend his own anger.  “I do not know who you believe you are, but I think you should leave before you find yourself in a dangerous situation.”

The stranger reached into the pocket of his jacket.  Instead of drawing out more pecans, he pulled out a small bottle of wine and plucked out the cork, jerking it almost angrily.  “Dangerous situation?  Go fuck yourself Top-Hat.  You don’t have it in you to hurt me.  I’m beyond you.  I’m beyond you in years, in strength…” He took a deep drink, letting out an ‘aaah’ before continuing his verbal assault.  “…Hell, I’m even better looking than you.”  One hazel eye winked with obvious intention of goading the vampire.

Le Von stiffened, no longer able to hold back his fangs from poking sharply at his bottom lip.  A faint hiss rose in the back of his throat and he started leaning forward.  “I say again.  You do not belong here, and I request that you remove yourself immediately.”

The figure started to laugh, spinning on his heels so that he was staring Le Von directly in the eyes.  “Don’t belong here?  Are you talking to a fucking mirror you perverted stalker?!  Oh yes, I know exactly who you are.  You are the one at the disadvantage you top-hat wearing pretender.  You might say that…Fate is staring you in the face.”  One hand shot out, far faster than Le Von had anticipated the young man could move.  The hand seemed to grip thin air but there was a tug on something in Le Von’s chest and he was rooted to the spot.

Le Von felt stuck to the ground and then slowly as the stranger started to twist his fist around in thin air, the vampire dropped to one knee, mouth hanging open and eyes wide.  “I could call Atropos to come cut the thread you’ve desired to be rid of for so long.  Do you want Us to set you free from your Destiny?  Are you so sick of heart that you forego your Fate?  Ahahaha…you little piece of shit.  Nothing but a stain upon this world.  Ah, but you like this don’t you?”  The stranger shoved the bottle of wine into Le Von’s face, forcing a few gulps into the shocked vampire’s mouth.  “You like to be abused.”

Le Von sputtered and coughed, falling backwards as the stranger finally released his grip and took a staggering step backwards.  “You deserve to be abused.  You’ve been given so much and yet you’re still the whiniest fuck I’ve ever watched grow.  You disgust me.  You don’t deserve them.  Do you hear me!?  You don’t deserve them!!”  There were tears clinging to the stranger’s thick lashes as he brandished an accusing finger towards the vampire.

The shock of the moment had worn off and Le Von felt himself lunge forward with a growl.  He tackled the stranger to a plush snowbank, snarling into his face.  “I know I don’t deserve them!  But who are you to say this!?  Do you claim yourself the Fates!?  Do the Fates declare me unworthy!?  I deem myself unworthy!!”  His gloved hands fisted in the jacket of the stranger and he started to shake him violently.  “I never asked for any of this!  I never wanted this…!”

The bottle came swiftly, smashing into Le Von’s head and sending him sprawling.  Rolling off the young man he came up all claws and wroth.  The stranger was already on his feet, smirking as he reached to his hand.  Upon his left hand was a ring in the shape of a measuring rod, as his fingers brushed it, the ring began to unfurl forming into a large rod with marks for measuring the Fate Strings of mortals.  “Whine whine whine…I guess I should have brought cheese.  And yes, I am one of the Fates.  I am the middle Fate, Lachesis…though most call me Marcel, including that annoyingly sexy brown skinned vampire behind that window neither one of us will enter.”

Seeing only red, Le Von lunged at Marcel, intent on tackling him again.  Twirling sideways the Fate spun his measuring rod and cracked it like a whip against the vampire’s backside.  “Toro!  You’re like a raging bull.  I like you better this way.  Less whining and more….raaaage.”  Marcel didn’t get time to dodge again, the vampire crashed down onto him, knocking the wind from his lungs and practically burying him into the snow.

Struggling beneath the vampire he started to kick, punch, wriggle and jab at anything he could.  The two were wrestling, rolling and otherwise just hurting one another out of frustration and pain.  Marcel managed to head-butt Le Von, momentarily causing him to loosen his grip.  The Fate didn’t try to get up, but instead knocked the other’s top-hat off and started to cackle like it was the funniest thing he’d ever seen to watch it go rolling down the street.  “There goes your stupid fucking hat!”

Letting out an inhuman growl Le Von lunged down and bit down into Marcel’s left peck, tearing through the fabric of his jacket and shirt until he was bringing blood.  At first Marcel howled in pain, but soon a different feeling hit him and he groaned.  “Fucking…vampires…”  Marcel’s head was spinning, and so was Le Von’s.  The blood that stained Marcel’s shirt was not red, but rather a curious glittering silver that turned a rainbow of colors when the light from a nearby lamppost hit it.

Just a sip of that strange mercury blood against Le Von’s tongue made the vampire’s world spin.  He tumbled back off of the Fate and ended up on his back staring at the sky overhead.  Marcel grunted, rolling to get to his feet as he attempted to ignore the stirring in his bellbottoms.  Shaking his head he sneered at the vampire, holding his chest as he walked towards where the top-hat had come to rest a few paces away.  Grinning maliciously he lifted a foot and promptly stomped the hat flat.  “Ooops…”

Le Von’s eyes filled with blood from one side to the other.  “You…bastard…”  

Marcel winked one hazel eye and blew Le Von a teasing kiss.  “I’m done rolling around in the snow.  Think you can keep up with me Mr. Whiny Ass?”  Snagging up his measuring rod the Fate turned on his heels and took off running.  His speed was incredible, putting blocks distance between him and the vampire while skipping through the streets, jumping atop of cars and twirling atop of lampposts.

Le Von looked startled at first but then rolled to his feet, blurring from his spot in the snow.  On his way he managed to snag his poor flattened top-hat from the street and began following the Fate’s trail.  His blood was pumping in a way he could not recall it doing in centuries.  He was going to catch that man, and when he caught up to him, he was going to strip him down and carve their pain into their flesh.

Marcel wanted to be caught, but he’d be damned if he was going to make it easy.  This was not what he intended when he approached the vampire and began poking fun of him, but oh well.  Despite how much he hated the way that Le Von wallowed in self-pity, the two of them had a very real pain in common.  Perhaps it was not so bad to fight and fuck that pain out before it festered into something nastier.

The Fate glanced over his shoulder, seeing a black blur closing in on him and fast.  He gasped and tried to turn a corner, but Le Von caught him around the waist throwing the both of them so harshly into the side of a church bus that every single one of the windows shattered on impact.

Fates are strong, but not completely indestructible.  Marcel was vaguely aware of being bodily scooped up and the world blurring away.  Every time he closed his eyes and opened them again, the scenery had changed.  When the two of them collided with the bus, he had taken a massive blow to the head, leaving him on the verge of consciousness.  Though it only took minutes for him to regain his bearings, he was already in an unfamiliar place with Le Von over him and the sound of running water piercing his ears.

Startling, the Fate jerked, splashing water from the tub he’d been placed.  Hazel eyes whipped around wildly as he drank in his surroundings.  He was in a dimly lit room with a canopy bed and an enormous copper tub being filled with warm water.  He was nude and Le Von was only partially clothed, looming over him while he poured what smelled like honeysuckle oil into the water.  “What the…fucking fuck!?”

“I have captured you.  Now you are mine.”  The vampire spoke coolly, his eyes barely open as he glanced to Marcel’s confused face.

“Like Hell I am!”  Marcel came partially up out of the water and Le Von started to chuckle, reaching out to place a hand against his shoulder and push him back down.

“Sit down before you crack your skull again.  Your wounds are healing swiftly, far faster than I could have ever imagined.  Still, there are quite a few that have not finished sealing.  Give your body a moment before we go another round hmm?”  Le Von’s long dark hair hung down over one side of his face, obscuring his expression.

Marcel grunted, sliding back down into the water before reaching up to brush Le Von’s hair to the side.  The vampire’s cheek was busted open, and glass was still sticking out.  The Fate snorted, jerking out the piece of glass and tossing it aside.  “And giving yourself time to heal as well, I see.”  Hazel eyes glanced down, spying Le Von’s left arm hanging limply at his side.  He reached for the arm, grabbing it tightly and giving a slight twist to set the bone straight with sickening pop.  “Idiot.  What the fuck are you doing giving me a bath when you look like shit?  At least put your bones back in order.  God…you really are a masochist…”

Le Von grunted from his arm snapping into place, then let out a slight sigh.  Offering a shrug he leaned forward, snatching Marcel by the back of his hair and tilting his head back.  “Oh I think I can speed up my healing process.”  He leaned down and sank his fangs into the Fate’s throat, letting the sweet nectar of his silver blood flow.  Le Von slurped at that amazing blood, before having to draw back because Marcel shoved hard at him, sending him tumbling down to the floor beside the tub.

“Idiot!  Are you trying to overdose!?  You can’t just drink from me like that!  It’s not like sipping from a witch or a warlock.  Drinking the blood of a Fate is like…it’s like…!”  Marcel was at a loss for words, holding his bleeding neck.  When he’d shoved Le Von away the other’s fangs had torn the place where he’d bitten.  Taking a few deep breaths he tried to steady himself, but the feeling of the vampire’s venom had shot straight to his loins.  Marcel groaned, squeezing his knees together and rolling about in the warm water.

“It is like supping from all that exists.  It is like connecting to the cosmos.  Aaahhh…my head feels so light and my body is floating, drifting through Time and Space.  It is incredible.  I can see why your people do not reveal themselves.  My kind would easily become addicted to something so…blissful.”  Le Von moaned, arching upwards and rubbing his feet against the floor.  He looked as if he was deep in the throws of passion.

Marcel snorted and glanced away, feeling his cheeks burn.  “Something like that.  Stupid, idiot, fuck head…”  Despite how he cursed at Le Von, the bite from his words was gone.  He almost sounded like he was pouting instead of actually being angry any longer.

“Has Cyrus drunk of you before?”  Le Von was at the Fate’s side once again, reaching for a sponge and dipping it into the water of the tub.  He stopped the faucet and then started to dribble water around Marcel’s shoulders, gently washing the other, almost in worship or reverence.

“…Yeah, probably…two or three times over the ages.  I am there for him when he needs me, but it is not his destiny for him to know me.  Not yet anyways.”  Marcel’s shoulders sagged and he let out an exasperated sigh.  He sounded disgruntled, but he was simply too tired to continue being too overt about it.

“I see.  So then he meets you, perhaps takes pleasure in your company…but he does not yet realize who you truly are.  Indeed, you and I share the same pain.  We watch out for them and they do not understand why or for what purpose.  They have a destiny for which we cannot interfere, and yet without us they would not be able to reach their full potential.  It hardly seems fair.”  Le Von cupped his hands, carefully bringing water to Marcel’s head and letting it trickle down over his light brown locks.

“Fate is cruel.  I should know.”  Marcel snickered, leaning his head back and indulging in the treatment from Le Von’s hands.  The way the vampire conducted himself only served to piss him off more, but what was the point in fighting against it now?  “So what do you intend after you finish bathing me?”

Le Von took a rag from the side of the tub, brushing a bar of scented soap against it and then began washing at Marcel’s back.  “I intended to take you to bed.”  The statement was frank, causing the Fate to snort.

“Oh you do, do you?  And what makes you think that I will let you?”  Marcel cast a coy look over his shoulder, his hazel eyes challenging.

“’Let’ is not a word that I would use in this situation.  However, neither of us wish to spend this Christmas alone, so perhaps a compromise could be found.  One that is mutually beneficial to our situations.”  Le Von continued to wash at Marcel, being meticulous and gentle.

“Hmmm…it pisses me off how rational and truthful you can be.  You remind me of a cat.  You’ll only curl up in my lap when it suits you.  However, you’re so soft and warm that pushing you away…seems a poor choice.  Fucking cats…”  Marcel grumped, crossing both arms over his chest and lowering his head as if to concede.  “Very well, this is how this is going to go.  Finishing washing me, then dry me and then you get yourself cleaned up.  You’re all bloody and gross.  When you’re finished you may or may not find me in that bed.  If you’re lucky, you might get lucky.  If not…Merry Fucking Christmas and a Happy Go Blow Yourself.”

Le Von listened quietly to Marcel while tenderly massaging his skin with the soapy rag.  When he was finished the vampire merely chuckled and began to dip his hands in the water and rinse away the soap.  “Agreed.  The accord is struck.  Let me finish with your hair, and I will clean myself as you desire.”

Marcel leaned his head back, letting his rolling curls tumble backwards so Le Von could thread his long creamy fingers through them.  “I’m surprised you’re doing this.  You seldom touch others.  Why is it that you’re touching my flesh like it’s nothing, when you rarely dare to touch others?”

Le Von stopped short, his fingers stuck in Marcel’s curls.  Drawing in a breath he let it out slowly before continuing with his task.  “We have similar emotions.  I fear touching others because of the difficulties I have dealing with the transference.  Your emotions are surprisingly easy to handle.  Though other beings have a large range…yours is…blunted.  You feel only a few emotions and no others.  I was able to grow accustomed to them quickly while you were unconscious.”

Marcel’s eyes were closed as he savored the feeling of Le Von washing his hair.  “Mmm, the Moirae of three are actually one being split.  Each of us are tasked with specific dealings and thus our ‘range of emotions’ is only that which our part is about.  Imagine us like a person grieving death.  A single person goes through many stages, from depression, anger, to acceptance and celebration.  The three of us are split along those lines.  This is a vast oversimplification; I’m only trying to help you understand.  Only when we are together can we ‘feel’ all that a mortal being is afforded.”

Le Von ran water across Marcel’s hair, biting his bottom lip in thought.  “And so what you are saying is that you are the ‘angry Fate?’  That is to say, when it comes to life and death, you are the one that denies, that holds animosity and is angry at the world?  Just like when someone loses something dear to them…there comes a time when they question everything and feel anger in their hearts.  That is…that is you?”  Le Von’s gray eyes became wide and he bit his tongue inside his mouth to the point he tasted his own blood.

“So you understand now why I know you?  Why I have known you since before you were born?  I am your patron, Le Von Funar.  You have yet to descend into the realm of my siblings.  You have never fallen into despair, nor have you found acceptance.  In your heart you are still angry.  Over all the centuries, all the things that have happened to you…even through all the teachings of your beloved Emil…in your heart…”  Marcel turned his head, staring directly into Le Von’s eyes.  “You still desire only Me.”

Marcel drew away from Le Von’s shocked figure.  He ducked his head down into the water of the tub and then came back up.  Standing up he held out his arms.  “Dry me and then wash yourself.  Or are you too stunned to continue with our agreement?”  There was a sharp tilt to Marcel’s words, and they caused Le Von to start, jumping to his feet and rushing to get a towel. 

The vampire felt like he was in a daze as he carefully brushed the water from Marcel’s body and then wrapped his head in a towel.  The two said not a word as Marcel withdrew from the bath and sauntered over to the canopy bed.  He draped himself lazily across the pillows and blankets while Le Von let out the water to the tub and started to strip.

From the bed Marcel’s hazel eyes stared at the many scars that peppered Le Von’s body.  The vampire did not hesitate to reveal his body like he might with another lover.  The creature that lounged in his bed was privy to all that had transpired in his life and trying to hide his scars, either physical or otherwise was futile.  Still, he felt incredibly vulnerable with those ancient eyes tracing his every curve as he stood in the tub and fiddled with knobs so that water cascaded down upon him from the shower overhead.

Le Von’s mind drifted to his times spent with his beloved Master Emil.  Under the man’s watchful eyes he had often felt vulnerable and small.  It was quite different to go from a powerful vampire that slaughtered thousands, to a simpering creature that begged for even the slightest of affections.  The way that Emil had broken Le Von was absolute and complete.  As the vampire brushed fingertips along the angry zipper scars of his chest he reveled in the aching feel of their history.  It was through these scars he was broken and re-stitched into something more than just a mindless beast.  He might still have been a monster, but at least he was a genteel one that could take orders from the right person.

Marcel was looking at him in a way that brought him to his knees mentally the way that he craved.  He could feel the masterful mental nails down his spine and he yearned to be broken further.  He wanted Marcel’s hands around his throat and the breath constricted to the point he had no breath to beg.  He swallowed down a lump, feeling his loins begin to swell as he cast a sideways glance over his shoulder to the Fate draped across his bed.  There was a tension between them and though it was built upon a mutual desire for others, the two of them were ultimately finding release in one another.  He knew that Marcel was fulfilling a fantasy and so too would he.  Just for tonight they would fall into the confines of their minds and indulge in one another…then probably never again meet, or perhaps at the very least, never speak of it again.

“I know I’m sexy, but is seeing me in your bed giving you that much heat?”  Marcel grinned from his spot on the bed, rolling so he was lying upon his back like a sultan upon a throne.  His head was upon a pillow, arms out to either side and legs sprawled, with an air of superiority around him.  His eyes were gleaming and there was a smirk upon his lips both taunting Le Von and daring him to come closer.

“I was merely thinking…” Le Von began, raising shampoo-filled palms to his head and starting to scrub at his thick black hair.

Marcel ran a hand down his chest and teasingly tweaked at his own nipples.  “Thinking of the great Dr. Viktor Emil?  Your long-dead master?  The married man that kept you in a cage and used to cut pieces off of you to see if they would grow back?” 

Le Von stiffened, the suds flowing down his patchwork back and slipping down the backs of his thighs before vanishing into a swirl of water.  “His wife left him when she found me.  He was devoted to me.  He was devoted to turning a monster back into a man.  Careful that your chidings do not go too far.”  There was an edge to his voice like ice that could cut glass.

Marcel snorted; his hand sliding down further so that he brushed nails against his stomach before gripping his half hard thickness and giving a squeeze.  Groaning he writhed against the bed before letting out a sigh.  “Too far?  I believe we both have gone too far.  There is no going back now.  How’s Blaine?  Rhetorical question, of course, though you are able to disguise your son from pretty much every other creature in existence…you cannot keep a child from Fate.”

Le Von barely managed to switch off the water before he whirled on Marcel.  He did not bother with a towel, but came crashing down upon the Fate leaving droplets of water flicking in every direction.  His wet curtain of black hair dangled down into the other’s face as he hovered above him.  “Do not speak of my son.  Do not dare to bring my innocent child into this bed.”

Marcel made an ‘O’ motion with his mouth as he stared up at the wet mess of Le Von.  “There you are again, all fangs and fury.”  One hand reached up to brush back the wet locks from the vampire’s snarling face, then fingertips trailed down his cheek, across his jaw and then to his throat, fingering the gnarled scar where someone had attempted to severe Le Von’s head…and nearly succeeded.  “Mmm, your ‘innocent child’ is a nearly two hundred year old pure blood vampire.  He is a man, with his own life and his own Fate.  You should probably seek him out more often, but then what do I know.”  Marcel shrugged, brushing his thumb against the vampire’s lower lip.

Le Von’s fury started to wane and he visibly gulped.  “His own…Fate?  Do you mean to say that he will be caught up in the tangled mess that is this the supernatural underworld?”  The vampire’s eyebrows climbed up his forehead and his mouth hung open slightly.

Marcel let out a grunt, pushing his thumb into Le Von’s open mouth.  “Not for quite some time.  Stop shitting yourself.  I’ll break my own rule and reassure you of something…”  The Fate leaned up, his thumb thrusting lewdly in and out of the vampire’s mouth as his lips brushed his ear.  “The demon will never have your son.”

Le Von accepted the thumb, starting to suck.  When the words were spoken he melted against Marcel, his tongue swirling against the invading digit as his hand moved down the other’s chest.  A light purr started to vibrate from his body.  

“Mmm, that got you going didn’t it you angry kitty?”  Plucking his thumb from Le Von’s mouth Marcel moved to catch the other by the throat with one hand and the hair with the other.  He squeezed just enough to be commanding with his hand at Le Von’s neck and then jerked at his dark wet locks.  “So then…shall we begin?”

There was lust in Le Von’s eyes, but also something else.  He looked somewhere between wanting to be playful and wanting to worship.  Blood swirled in the depths of his smoky gray eyes and he jerked against Marcel’s hold, forcing the Fate to tear at the hair in his grasp.  It must have hurt and yet there was no pain in his expression, only want.

“Tch, you’re so fucking weird.”  Marcel grinned as he leaned in close, brushing his lips ticklingly soft against the other’s lips.  The gesture made Le Von whine.  Something stirred in the Fate’s chest and he lunged forward, crushing his lips down forcefully, biting, tugging and nearly bringing blood to the plushy bits.  This made the vampire moan, opening his mouth and snaking his tongue out in desperation.  There was no doubt about it this time.  Le Von wanted to be dominated and abused.  It was not normally Marcel’s thing to do in the bedroom.  He more enjoyed someone to push back against him and it to be a contest of wills.  This was why he and Cyrus had enjoyed one another so much.  In the end neither of them would submit and they were on equal terms, though neither would admit it.

A spike twisted in Marcel’s chest and warm angry hunger flooded his being.  This was not his Cyrus.  This was not the vampire he wanted to be spending time with and perhaps now that the Avatars of Life and Death were finally together, he would never hold his Cyrus again.  This was why he and Le Von were seeking solace in one another’s arms.  Marcel was only a temporary distraction for Le Von as well.  Marcel was not the master that he desired.

Growling, Marcel tugged back, he had the vampire’s tongue gripped between his two front teeth and pulled it almost to the point it was too far.  Le Von made no movement to resist.  His smoky eyes were barely open and there were crimson tears against his lashes.  They two men were having the same painful burning in their chests.

Releasing Le Von’s tongue Marcel licked his lips and began pushing at the top of his head.  “Suck my dick you dirty little kitten.”

Le Von blinked a few times, a slight look of confusion on his face before a wash of understanding flittered across his vision.  Lowering his head he eyed the erection that’d been pressing against his wet stomach.  Marcel was rock hard and throbbing.  Despite the tragedy of the situation, his body cared not.  Sighing back into the pillows he raised his arms putting his hands behind his head and stretching.  The haughty look made Le Von grin as he lowered further, tracing kisses against a smooth freckled stomach.

“Is it superstition that the Moirae are women or do you choose your form?”  Le Von asked curiously as he nibbled at Marcel’s hip, ghosting his hand against the thickness pointing at the ceiling.

Letting out a groan Marcel’s hips jerked before he let out a soft sigh.  It seemed like forever since anyone had touched him sexually.  To say that he’d been frustrated was an understatement.  Hazel eyes stared at the underside of the canopy and he grunted as if annoyed.  “Did I tell you to talk while you were down there?  Pffftt…Mmmm…”  Closing his eyes he stretched a bit, flexing his toes before he spoke again.  “My siblings and I can take on whatever form we desire.  We have been men, women, and all the genders in between.  If you want to know why we are depicted as women more often than not, then look to the patriarchy that wrote the ancient texts.  Do they often speak of men who weave?  Of course not.  That is a woman’s job eh?”

A smirk tugged at Marcel’s lips.  His eyes opened slowly and he looked down at Le Von who was stroking slowly up and down at his throbbing length.  Carefully the vampire inched towards the hard cock and started to rub his cheek against it, worshipping the maleness before flicking out his tongue to taste the tip.  “I understand.  You are beings of power and yet also shackled.  To depict you as women was another way to hold down the women of the age.  You were spinster hags who had no real power other than to weave…but even if you had breasts, you are strong, willful and sensual.  You would appear as young women that could best any man if you chose.  You are beautiful creatures, I am mesmerized.”

Marcel sucks in a breath as Le Von’s mouth connects with his cock, kissing, licking, worshipping.  “Mmm, as well you should.  We are pretty fucking amazing.”

Le Von’s lips wrapped tightly around the tip and started to suck, causing Marcel’s words to stop.  His back arched up off the bed and he gripped the bed sheets tight, twisting them up in a fisted grip.  He refused to let out much more than a hiss through clenched teeth, gritting his teeth and slamming his eyes shut tight in concentration.  Le Von’s tongue swirled expertly around the tip and prodded the delicate slit before his head plunged forward and he took Marcel all the way down his throat in one quick motion.

Marcel was incredibly sensitive due to all their banter, plus Le Von was just really good at sucking dick.  His powers of manipulating people’s emotions could be tweaked to work directly with a person’s baser feelings of pleasure and pain.  Le Von was an incredible lover and he was well aware of it.  It was something that he prided himself upon.  Whether he bedded a man, woman, or someone who fell upon the spectrum, he could find the person’s desires, pleasure buttons and needs in seconds.  Le Von’s nails dragged down Marcel’s thighs sending goose bumps peppering the Fate’s body while his head bobbed quickly up and down taking his weeping dick all the way down his throat each time.

Marcel fought the desire to cry out for a good five minutes of the vicious assault from Le Von’s mouth.  The scratching of his thighs was making his head swim and his entire body felt like it was vibrating.  Finally, he let out a strangled garbled sound and gripped the vampire by the hair, tugging him up sharply.

His mouth disconnected with a wet pop, leaving a string of saliva and pre-cum from his lips to the end of Marcel’s swollen cock.  Growling the Fate leaned down to lick the little glistening thread away and narrowed his eyes.  “You’re a filthy cheat.”

Le Von smirked, letting out a faint chuckle.  He was held up by nothing but Marcel’s hands gripping him sharply by the hair.  He enjoyed the burn on his scalp as he stared dreamily up into the other’s face.  “All’s fair in desire and sex, do you not think?”

Growling Marcel tossed Le Von roughly over onto his back using only his hair.  He had some clumps in between his fingers that he ignored as he rolled to straddle the vampire.  Glaring down at the sprawled pale man he maneuvered himself so their pricks were pressed firmly together.  Breathing heavily Marcel planted a hand above Le Von’s head and started to grind.  “Mmmm, fuck…”

Le Von’s eyes momentarily went wide and he reached up to grip Marcel by the shoulders, digging his nails into the other’s muscles.  His breath hitched and his body gave an involuntary shudder.  Marcel’s wet heat slid easily up and down against his own hot need.  It felt good, damn good.  Le Von was actually a bit surprised; he assumed that Marcel would want something else out of their interlude.  The dominant way that the Fate held himself had Le Von gearing himself up to be mounted and split open, but it didn’t appear that Marcel wanted that in the least.  Instead, the two of them began rolling their hips against one another in a more mutual and genteel coupling.

Marcel leaned down and flicked out his tongue running it up Le Von’s throat, sending a shiver of pleasure through his body.  The muscle ghosted against his large scar causing an old ache of pain and pleasure to mingle together with overwhelming emotions.  Le Von cried out and it startled Marcel to the point he almost pulled back, however, Le Von’s legs wrapped tightly around his waist, holding him firmly in place.

The two men moved against one another in jerky heated motions, sweat and left-over water from their bathing slipping down their bodies.  Panting breaths filled the air as they inched closer and closer to one another until Marcel was lying bodily atop of Le Von and they were a tangled mass of limbs, undulating against one another with impending need.

Le Von managed to get his hand between them, wrapping fingers around both their cocks and working them up and down from base to tip.  He was intent upon taking Marcel to the edge, but a second hand joined in the jerking motions and it was not his own.

Marcel gripped them as well, giving a tight squeeze.  Le Von gasped, opening his eyes to look up at Marcel.  The Fate’s face held a determined look mingled in with the lust and want.  “You’re going to cum first.”  He declared, panting down into Le Von’s face.  “I won’t let you do me the way that Cyrus does.  I won’t go first…you cum first, or neither of us does!  Do you hear me kitten!?  Cum for me!  I demand it!”

Le Von was so startled that he started to shake.  He stared up at the determination in Marcel’s face and was unable to respond.  His entire body began to burn and his nails dug little red trails into Marcel’s chest.  He squirmed beneath the other, toes flexing and back lifting from the bed.  The words had driven him to a place he didn’t quite understand.

Whining Le Von’s body jerked violently and he let out a little growl as white hot spurt from his cock, coating their bellies and Marcel’s jerking hand.  A pleased moan escaped the Fate’s chest and he rolled his hips a few last times before freezing up.  A second rush of white hot enveloped their lower regions as he found release and collapsed against Le Von with a happy sigh.  It was as if something looming over him had been stripped away and he was able to let it go.

Both men were a tangled mess of trembling limbs and panting breaths.  Neither did much more than lies against one another for several moments until Marcel finally rolled off of Le Von and stared mutely at the canopy above them.  A few minutes ticked by and Le Von rolled towards Marcel, resting his cheek against the other’s sweaty chest.  “Care to rest here?”

Marcel snorted in response, his eyes almost glaring at the canopy over-head before he adjusted, swinging an arm around Le Von’s shoulders.  “Yeah, I’ll catch a nap.  You should probably get some sleep.  The sun will be up soon and I know you’ll be wanting to hibernate and such.”

Curling up a bit Le Von let out a little sigh.  “Will you still be here when I wake?”

Closing his eyes Marcel seemed to consider how to respond before finally shaking his head.  “No, I won’t be here when you wake up.  I don’t know that you’ll see me again, and if you do it won’t be for a long time.  Truth be told I shouldn’t have done this at all, but sometimes even beings like me just want to throw our hands up and say ‘fuck the world.’”

Le Von licked his lips, eyes sliding shut as he rested against Marcel’s warmth.  “I suppose I understand.  In my travels I have met Ancients, Elementals, Tricksters…in their eyes I have seen sadness, regret and desire.  I can understand the crippling weight that topples the resolve of those who have this world upon their shoulders.”

Marcel started to chuckle, shaking his head.  “I don’t have the weight of shit upon me.  I am merely a watcher.  The weight of the world falls upon the love of my life.”

Le Von blinked in surprise, raising his head curiously.  “Do you mean Cyrus?”

Shaking his head in response, Marcel started to comb his fingers through Le Von’s sweaty black curtain of hair.  “No, Cyrus is my…eh, it’s hard to explain.  He and I have been friends for centuries.  We are friends, lovers, I am support for him.  However, he is not my truest of loves.  My heart belongs to Time itself.  Mortals call him ‘Father Time.’  The being you call ‘Father Time’ is a creature both one and many, but not one of umm…eh, how do I put this.  Father Time does not engage in sexual activities.  We have a vast and loving relationship that is deeper than any ocean.  When I hold him there is no other and will never be another, but we love with our souls.  Not sure a mortal can understand that.  But anyways, we also have an ‘open’ relationship…he has non-sexual love of others and I have sexual and friendship love of others.  Man this is so fucking hard to explain and why am I even talking to you about this!?  I blame you cheating and using vampire powers to make me orgasm.”

Le Von lowered his head to Marcel’s chest again, trying to drink in all this information and toil it over in his mind.  “So you follow Cyrus’ Fate and over the centuries fell for him as a friend and his sexual prowess attracts you to the point you are…friends with benefits.  However, you are in a way, bonded to Father Time who is an asexual immortal spirit being with whom you have an open relationship.”

Marcel snorted, leaning up to press his face into Le Von’s hair.  He wasn’t sure why, but he took a deep breath, drinking in the other’s scent.  “Guess you’re not as stupid as you look, Top-Hat.”

Le Von snickered before drawing in a deep breath and letting it out slowly.  “Tell me…is Father Time the Creator?  I have heard the Tricksters speak of a creature and his lover that came to this world from another and breathed life into it.”

Marcel abruptly put a finger tip to Le Von’s lips.  There was a sharp look in Marcel’s eyes, almost like anger or perhaps…defiance?  “Sshhh, I don’t want to hear all that hocus pocus bullshit.  You could spin yarns all the day long with my siblings about the ‘Blessed Creator’ but I don’t want to hear it.  My beloved Ho’rach’e of the sands sprang to life like what a scientist might call a ‘mutation.’  What we Fates saw, was a Fate string that rewrote itself, rebuilt itself…could re-spin itself.  A miracle child that took over Time, backwards, forwards, opening this world like a book that had already been written.  And with the innocence of a child he took a pen in hand…and began to write what he thought the ending should be.”

The intensity in which Marcel was staring at Le Von made his chest ache.  The vampire absently wondered if this was what he looked like when he spoke about Emil.  It seemed to be that sort of admiration.  He thought of Emil as a person that could rewrite history and change the world, but the way the Fate was talking…he meant this literally.  Swallowing hard Le Von dared to speak.  “That is a frightening thought.  Such a power in the wrong hands…could this world not be completely undone?”

Marcel let out a heavy sigh, ghosting his hand against Le Von’s cheek and staring at him with regret in his hazel eyes.  “And this is why the Avatars of Life and Death are so important.  Promise me that you will continue to watch over them from the shadows.  Forgive my love’s naivety and…and believe in those you love.  I believe they will save this world.  Can you?”

Le Von gasped; the wheels in his mind turning as he slowly came to realize that Marcel was speaking about Cyrus and Lorenz.  “So it is true.  What the Tricksters have whispered about and threatened me with all these years?  They really are that special?”

Marcel smirked dryly, letting his eyes slide shut as he wrapped both arms around Le Von and drew him in close.  “Was there ever any doubt in your mind?”

The two men fell silent as fatigue and a feeling of great satisfaction fell over the both of them.  The anger and sadness from earlier in the evening was completely gone.  They felt warm and happy.  They both took solace in the Destinies of their beloved Cyrus and Lorenz.  They resolved themselves to live in the shadows supporting those they cared about.  Their spirits were once again at peace.

As Marcel and Le Von began to slip off into a dreamless slumber a young man with tanned skin, deep thick brown hair, warm brown eyes and a tender smile appeared out of the shadows near the bed.  He reached for a blanket and pulled it across their nude bodies.  In silence he stood before glancing to a watch upon his wrist.  As if noting he needed to be somewhere by the position of the hands on the watch face, he turned and vanished.

~THE END...for now...~

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