Embracing a new life

Chapter 13: Divided

(The previous night)

He seized the rapper, hit it twice against the brass counterpart that adorned the heavy ebony door, and took a step back. The nearby spruces swayed gently in a soft wind. It was a fine evening; the stars gleamed coldly on a spotless night sky. He enjoyed the brief moment before he would enter the lion’s den. As much as he respected his friend, interacting with him was always draining.

After a few moments, the door swung open, and he was greeted with the enthusiasm that was appropriate in an Arabic household. Jawid was dressed in comfortable looking, widely cut white garments and pulled him into a friendly hug. “Come in, come in; Fabien already arrived yesterday.”

When Andreji let himself be urged into the entrance area of the country house, his eyes spotted a head protrude from a nearby door and watch them. He gave the girl he estimated to be thirteen or fourteen a curt nod before he took off his coat.

With a small, embarrassed giggle she disappeared.

Jawid frowned disapprovingly into her direction. “Falida!” he called out, the name followed by a strict command in Arabic – a language that Andreji for once had no knowledge of even though he liked its sound. He knew better than to try and appease Jawid – this was his house, he set the rules, and it would be pointless and disrespectful to interfere.

The girl came running immediately, still throwing curious glances at the visitor, but halting dutifully in front of Jawid, an appropriate look of shame on her round features that were framed by a white kerchief that was adorned with violet and yellow floral ornaments. All in all, she looked as if she was being well taken care of, and something in the spring of her steps told Andreji that she was not afraid of her ‘patron’ either, which reassured him.

“Since you could not rule in your curiosity, you should at least give our guest a proper greeting,” Jawid prompted the girl.

She turned her big, dark eyes on Andreji for a moment, then quickly dropped her gaze. “Good evening, sir.”

Andreji nodded once more in greeting. He knew that it was not common for a man to interact with a little girl that was not from his family in her culture.

She was dismissed and told to remain in her room.

“You must excuse her bad manners; we have been living alone for quite a while. The prospect of having guests must have made her forget herself,” Jawid apologised.

Andreji smiled benignly. “I did not mind.”

Fabien rose from his seat to greet him when they entered the living room. He was a quite short man, but of an arrogance and pride that always held high amusement for Andreji. He was a sly kind of character, but quite entertaining if you knew who you were dealing with. Behind him, a slender blonde stood, a charming smile plastered over her features. Well, that was definitely Fabien’s type.

What followed was a night that Andreji would have labelled as ‘unpleasant’, had anyone cared for his opinion. It was meant to be the opposite. After some harmless chatting, the true reason for the girl’s presence had been bared – a reason she herself had been blissfully ignorant of until the moment when Fabien dropped his mask of congeniality to reveal the hunger in his eyes that were so like Andreji’s in their iciness, only that Andreji had never seen any gentle expression in the man’s orbs whereas he hoped that his features could display some affection if he so wished.

Of course, this was the point when the Frenchman started to allure to Andreji again. It was a running ‘gag’ between them, Andreji’s refusal to drink (and kill) in company, his dislike for forcing his hunger on a human, and Fabien’s fruitless attempts at changing his fellow’s appetite. In the end, the by now panicking lady landed – pushed by her ‘date’ – on Andreji’s lap. She stared at him, but he hardly paid her a glance and merely locked eyes with Fabien, his face schooled to display bored disinterest, and shook his head minutely.

Realising that Andreji was not going to hold her back, the blonde seized her chance and fled out of the open French window.

Andreji forced a smirk while he looked at both men. “Enjoy yourselves.”

Fabien leisurely took off his jacket and changed into more comfortable shoes, his eyes glinting in anticipatory glee. Jawid made a gesture that demonstrated his regret of having to desert his guest. Then they headed after their prey.

Andreji sighed silently and leaned back, closing his eyes. This was the one thing he had never had any sense for. In fact, it filled him with mild revulsion. He was careful not to let it show, however. In these circles, it was a common pastime, and he regarded himself as lucky not to be questioned any further as to his dislike. It could have easily been interpreted as softness, and softness was not a trait that was appreciated in a man. Somehow, fortunately, his steadfastness pertaining the random killing of some stranger had been perceived as strength of character, not as weakness thereof. Andreji’s insistence that he did not mind killing but did merely not enjoy it in such a setting had been accepted as justification. In the end, it was the truth. Only that the way he voiced the truth seemed to hint that he liked killing people that he knew more intimately, in a suiting intimate setting that allowed no spectators.

Facades. Games. Masks. Secretiveness. His life was intricately woven into a fine net of those. At times, Andreji grew weary of them. Yet what would he do without this extra thrill in his life? Live happily ever after? More likely live in boredom ever after.

Involuntarily, his thoughts strayed to the girl who ran for her life out there at this moment. Andreji would have intervened had it borne any chance of success. The picture of a lady in panic just for the sake of someone else’s pleasure was something that bothered him. It was unnecessary. He lacked comprehension for this sort of pastime. However, it was not his place to criticise such behaviour. He could hardly force his own taste on the people in his proximity.

True, if River had any inkling, the boy would be livid, appalled. Andreji hoped that this debate would wait a little longer. It would force him to tell his fledgling off for an opinion that – albeit following a different reasoning – he secretly shared. In fact, although he could not admit it, he valued River’s lack of cynicism, of games and masks. River was genuine, uncorrupted. That let Andreji breathe more easily in his presence.

In the company of Jawid or their French kinsman, Andreji had to withdraw into himself instead. Although things were not as simple as that. After all, Andreji had a choice. It had been his decision to surround himself with these people. They might have been likely to tease him for his softer spots, but in return they did not reprimand him for the harsher parts of his personality, the way the sophisticated part of the vampire society would that at this point had the upper hand.

The living room door creaked open, and an inquisitive nose, followed by two dark eyes, peered out from behind it.

By all rights, Andreji knew, he should send the girl back to her room, but he felt he could use some distraction. He cocked his head. “Are you bored as well?”

Fadila smiled and bit her lower lip shyly, averting her eyes. “I thought you were gone,” she whispered with a heavy accent.

“I do not mind.” Andreji turned away from her to look out of the window. It was her choice to come in or flee once more; it was not in his hands to coax her.

For a while, only the almost muted oriental music that emerged from an old record player filled the silence in the room. Finally, the door creaked once more and with hesitant steps the girl approached him. For a while, she stood next to him, of course keeping an appropriate distance. “You have beautiful hair,” she suddenly remarked out of the blue.

Andreji smirked. “Are you allowed to compliment men you do not know?”

The girl took several steps backward in embarrassment.

Andreji sighed inwardly. His patience was a little short tonight, and the girl was probably too shy to propose anything that would distract him. “Can you think of anything we could occupy ourselves with while we wait for Jawid’s return?” he therefore enquired.

It took two hours for the other men to reappear. Fortunately, they had the grace to visit the shower and change their attire before they stepped into the living room once more. By then, Andreji and Fadila had finished their third chess match. The white haired man was not a great enthusiast for the game, but it had helped to kill time.

The moment Jawid entered the room, Fadila hurriedly packed the chess pieces away and withdrew to her room. Jawid settled in an armchair while Fabien could still be heard under the shower, whistling some French chanson. “You seem changed,” the elder man stated.

Andreji lifted his eyebrows. “How so?”

“You appear more relaxed. Less guarded.”

Andreji pondered that remark. Was it true? And if so, where did that leave him? Was it just his outer appearance that had changed? Perhaps his opening up to River had affected his general behaviour somewhat. However, at this point he failed to see the disadvantage of seeming to be more relaxed. He was still certain to be in control of the situation around him – as far as that was possible. He still did not doubt his own judgement.

“I have been living in the clan for decades; I needed to assimilate somewhat. That would not have been possible had I been offish all the time. Neither would it have helped me with my fledgling,” he reasoned.

Jawid still eyed him intently. “I accept that first reason. However, I am surprised by the way you handle your little Japanese. Somehow, I expected you to be strict, calculating. I would not have thought you would encourage a fledgling to think he was anything more but your servant…”

Andreji smirked in a for once clearly offish manner. “I have given you my reasons for treating him the way I do already. I have neither the wish to repeat myself nor the urge to add any information, Jawid.”

The dark haired man, whose hair had lost its elegant curls in the bathroom and now flowed in soft waves over his shoulders, smirked slyly. “You like the boy.”

Andreji smiled smugly in return. “After Alaric’s little disaster with Murtagh, the choice to pick someone I genuinely like instead of just picking someone that looks like he can be easily manipulated to suit my expectations seemed rather obvious to me.”

A strange glint flitted through Jawid’s eyes. Then he insisted, “You seem to do more than just like him as your fledgling…”

Andreji chuckled. “What do you expect, now? That I break down and make some soppy love-declaration, reciting poems and letting doves soar into the star-strewn night sky?”

Even Jawid had to chuckle picturing that.

“I fear such romantic notions are Demyan’s field of expertise, not mine. I enjoy the boy’s company; I suppose quite like you enjoy the girl’s.” He motioned in the direction of Falida’s room.

Jawid nodded in understanding, a sharpness in his gaze indicating that he accepted the explanation for the moment.

A short while later, Fabien joined them, and the three of them engaged in some small talk. Two hours further on, Andreji took his leave, a bundle of Middle Eastern commissions under his arm.

He was glad when he reached the safety and calm of his own chambers, sinking down on his couch. He despised having to account for his own actions. They were his business and no one else’s. After some moments of relaxation, he reluctantly rose and started some research. He was no expert in non-European smithery, let alone Middle Eastern blacksmithery.

The next evening, Andreji awoke to the soft music of a CD-player that River had deposited in his room and that he had set in the morning to wake him. A short while later, however, the device was switched off again, because Andreji’s short temper could not deal with the blaring.

When River finally arrived unannounced, some of Andreji’s bad mood had already dissipated. He forced himself to endure River’s banal talk and felt his spirits slowly rise. At least the boy knew when not to push him for anything.

His thoughts wandered back to his previous night’s company. River and Jawid lived in two different worlds that were bound to clash when they started their training. A clash that Andreji was looking just as much forward to as he did to River’s confrontation with the fact that some vampires indeed were killers, and Andreji had chosen not to mind that. Perhaps it was time to take a more active role in River’s education.

Still somewhat monosyllabic and at the same time enjoying the young man’s confusion and nervous anticipation, Andreji led him down to the cave, a place hardly anyone ever visited and some clan members not even knew about, without giving a proper explanation until they had arrived at their destination. In fact, he made his mind up about what exactly they were going to do only during their short conversation.

Yes, Andreji liked games as long as they were in his control, and having River reduced to his basic senses for once held something appealing. In a way, Andreji was a sensualist. Had he been asked to choose between body language and verbal expression, he would have picked the former without hesitation. Perhaps this was indeed what attracted him to the likes of Jawid and Fabien. Even though they did not agree on everything, they shared a similar attitude towards life.

River’s half-hearted attempts to detect him in the dark amused his master. In the end, he conceded that it might indeed prove too hard a test for an only recently turned fledgling to locate a four-hundred year old man who had specialised on beast hunting and had therefore learned his stealth lesson well.

He took out his small dagger and pierced his skin with it. A blood trace should give River the clue he needed. The following training sessions would have to be planned more carefully, taking River’s potential strengths and weaknesses more thoroughly into account.

Eventually, River found Andreji, their bodies colliding pleasantly. The young man was filled with an utterly stupid concern for his master’s wellbeing. How Andreji enjoyed his youthful emotionalism, his slightly naïve tendency to over-dramatise events. A sudden urge to see the blonde at his feet, giving himself up to him, his master, gripped Andreji.

He lit another torch and presented the thin stream of blood that dribbled from his wrist to the young man. “You have not fed from me in several weeks.”

River’s dark eyes were glued to the red fluid, even though his mind seemed to protest mildly against the sudden change of events. “Are you sure that’s even necessary?” In his voice Andreji could hear how much the blonde hoped Andreji would not withdraw his invitation, even though his tongue claimed otherwise.

“Drink,” he demanded, his voice almost giving way to his own desire and breaking.

River immediately dropped to his knees and pressed his mouth against the wound. The coolness of his lips betrayed that he in fact physically needed to sate his thirst.

Andreji deposited the torch in a ledge. It did not take long before the hormones kicked in and he felt warmth spread in his body and lust assemble in his loins. Without depriving River of his blood source, Andreji circled around him and sank to his knees as well. His left hand wandered beneath River’s shirt, feeling his firm stomach and chest and thriving in the sensation of his warm skin, while his hips involuntarily rubbed against his fledgling’s backside.

For a moment, he felt the blonde stiffen in surprise, then he melted into Andreji’s touch, still licking at the wound that was so small that by now the blood flow had ceased altogether.

Andreji pried his arm out of River’s grip, eventually, to lead it further down and cup the young man’s swollen member that strained his trousers. The Japanese made a sharp intake of breath that sent a pleasant shiver down Andreji’s body. His own breathing resounded loudly next to River’s ear, and his arms tightened around the slim, well built body.

Andreji purred unrestrainedly. His right hand wandered down the inner side of River’s thigh. His tongue lapped at River’s ear. The boy leaned his head back to give Andreji access to his throat. It was a mutual pleasure of theirs: throat sucking. Teasing River’s Adam’s apple.

The still quite young voice of his still quite young lover erupted in low, enticing moans.

With his left hand, Andreji shoved up River’s shirt to see the pink, hardened nipples as he played with them.

The blond undid his belt with an audible clank and forced his zipper open. Without even bothering to get rid of the trousers, he pushed down his boxers to free his member of its confines.

Andreji took off River’s shirt and put it behind him on the cold stone floor before he lowered the slim form of his lover onto it, locking his eager lips with River’s mouth. His hands wandered over River’s upper body while the young man’s hands impatiently tucked at his own shirt.

Andreji sat up and undid his buttons with swift, exercised movements, his eyes roaming over the lean form of the man underneath him. River’s young, hard organ lay tinged in a dark pink on the young Japanese’s belly, the only outer sign for the distress he must be in. Otherwise he obediently waited for Andreji’s ministrations. It was almost too much to bear.

Having ridded himself of his shirt, Andreji helped River out of his trousers, so that he lay completely undressed in the cool cave. Not that they noticed any coldness. Once more eyeing the perfect body that was presented to him, Andreji bent down again to kiss River, the forefinger of his right hand brushing teasingly over River’s hardness.

The boy moaned once more.

The tip of Andreji’s finger started to circle the wet glans, teasing its leaking entrance.

River shivered and whimpered into their kiss.

Andreji broke loose from his lips and took River’s member tightly into his fist, stroking it. He moved closer to the blond’s ear. “Fuck me,” he uttered in a rush what would otherwise not have come over his lips.

The prompt took a moment to sink in. Then he felt a surprisingly firm hand on his chest that pushed him to the side to indicate that River was taking charge. Andreji rolled on his back, his hands placed behind him to support his upper body, and watched with unshielded want how River attacked his trousers. He felt elation as they were forced down and left him naked and ready for what was to come.

A brief kiss, and then River wordlessly motioned for him to turn around.

This was always an awkward moment for Andreji, suddenly allowing someone to see him in such an undignified pose, especially since this was in fact the first time they actually did it in a lit room. Yet with the help of the anticipatory desire he felt, Andreji once more managed to fight his discomfort down.

He felt River’s now warm hands on his bottom cheeks. The younger man seemed to hesitate for a moment, but suddenly, Andreji felt the wet warmth of his tongue at his entrance and with a burst of pleasure he knew why he wanted this. The tongue wandered along those parts of his body that had not been used in centuries due to vampires’ lack of digestion. A finger pushed against his entrance and Andreji lowered his head so that his hair veiled his face, intent not to let River see the needy expression it certainly carried. Less guarded? –Well, that much was true.

He felt River’s hand giving attention to his erection and involuntarily spread his legs further apart to grant him better access. It also increased the intensity of River’s finger inside of him.

Goodness, it was ridiculous how much he enjoyed this degrading act.

A second digit easily joined the first, and Andreji realised that he was so despicably needy that any further preparation was unnecessary. He felt behind him and seized River’s member that rested heavily against his bottom to give it a few measured strokes. “Come in.”

He did not have to wait. He felt the firm pressure against his anus, and then River’s hardness entered him, widening his insides to make room for him, eliciting the most wondrous of sensations in the taller man. Andreji schooled his breath into well measured, deep inhalation and exhalation, concentrating with all of his being on the feeling of being tightly locked with another person that in this moment held so much control over him.

Slowly, River started to move. There were two things that made Andreji shiver in delight: when River pushed deep into him, so that he felt as if the younger man could not have moved any further even if he had been gifted with a larger sex and his hips pressed firmly against Andreji’ behind, and when River withdrew completely and entered him anew.

For a while, he allowed River to dictate a pace that was rather low and quite enjoyable, but in the end, Andreji needed this to be done ‘properly’. “Take me hard,” he whispered loudly, his eyes tightly shut in silent embarrassment for wanting to be degraded even further. He could not really fathom why he had suddenly developed a taste for this, what strange perverted psychological game he was playing with himself there; he only knew that it felt damn good (when he was in the right mood) and that with River he could not even make himself regret it.

River drove his hardness more harshly into his master, letting his hips collide violently with Andreji’s bottom.

“Faster,” Andreji demanded. His voice was calm, but of course it nevertheless betrayed how much he wanted this act.

River bent forward and seized one of Andreji’s shoulders to have better leverage. Then he put all his energy into driving himself into Andreji as fast and hard as he could.

Deep, unrepressed moans suddenly erupted from the usually so composed man. River tightened his grip on the man, revelling in this mind-blowing experience, urged further on even though his body already screamed with exhaustion.

Finally, he felt Andreji’s insides clench around him and recognised this as a sign to let go. He needed no further encouragement to spill himself with hitching breath and a loud, long moan into Andreji.

River slumped onto Andreji’s back, a mindless grin all over his face. He reached under their bodies, assuring himself that he had not stopped too soon. “I love you,” he whispered.

Andreji cradled River’s hand in his.