Matthew DiVigny (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
dirtyandtrue) wrote2016-05-23 02:14 pm
dirtyandtrue) wrote2016-05-23 02:14 pm
PSL: A life thereafter - Continued; Part 2; Second Chapter; ect
Blaine may not have been a ghoul anymore, but he was still an agent of Matthew. An extension of his power. The dynamic between them hadn't changed much since the blonde's Embrace. It was still sex, blood, and love that swirled between them with a healthy dose of diabetic affection. Matthew's hand was still stayed and softened by the blonde's presence, which was lucky for all until you crossed that line. When that happened, sometimes Blaine became that hard edge that was dispatched to take care of problems.
Tonight he was playing that role and it had cost him a lot of blood. He was driving back on his motorcycle, everything passing by in a blur even to his enhanced vision. He had reported to Matthew that it was complete and when asked if he was alright, Blaine had to admit he was far lower on blood than he should be and barely holding on. There was a pause and then Matthew answered, "I'll get Joslin to handle it."
After that Blaine just concentrated on riding.
Blaine pulled up to the gate and through it as he'd been expected and it had opened. He zoomed up the drive and into the garage with barely any space to clear over his head. He was *hungry* and there was a heartbeat so close by. His eyes were being taken over by the monstrous hunger inside and when the door opened it didn't matter who it was. He was by his motorcycle dropping his helmet on the floor and the next moment he had flashed over and wrenched the neck of that sweet heartbeat sideways to expose the pulse to his open mouth.
Hot copper filled his mouth and his moan was just as orgasmic as his victim as he sank to his knees, taking the body with him, cradling it possessively and yet so gently. When he pulled his mouth back, it took him a minute of tenderly licking his lips and wiping the blood from his chin before he really felt like himself again. A long sigh of contentment left him before he looked down to move the body off of him.
The blood he'd just ingested ran cold and a lead weight knocked him in the chest and landed in the pit of his stomach.
A strangled noise left him as the sandy blonde hair framed a pale face slack in death. "Joslin," he whispered out, and his face crumpled into pain. His hand ran over his skin and his eyes wandered over the body. "Damnit, why were you here?" He should have known not to come. He had told Matthew what state he was in. No one should have been there except whatever victim he was suppose to-
-and a cold realization bloomed in his chest. It redoubled the pain he felt along with the quick burning Brujah rage. He had been used. This was Matthew's way to get what he wanted and he didn't want to do it himself. Blaine cursed under his breath but he couldn't let this be the end for Joslin and their Prince knew that. The blonde lifted his arm to his mouth and ripped open a gash that bled only briefly before closing up again, but it was long enough. He tilted the lolling neck back and let the blood drip into the now open mouth.
"I'm sorry for not asking," he murmured and watched the shiver of life suddenly go through the body in his lap. Eyes popped open, shocked and bewildered. He remembered it so well, his first awakening, and he made a promise to himself to give Matthew a punch right to his pretty face...
...as soon as he took care of the hunger that was quickly taking over Joslin's handsome face.
--
Blaine meant a lot to Matthew as a lover and companion alone but there was no denying how the blond influenced the court and how the raven haired Prince ruled. The area had done better for it, really, since Blaine balanced out the horrid temper and sometimes sulky, aggressive attitude, and while Matthew normally tended to his own matters, the rare one did require Blaine's more even head.
Of course, while Blaine had been nothing short of an amazing force of light and love, (ironic, considering), Matthew wasn't dumb enough to think that the former hitman would be enough. He needed his retainers too - Well, one of them anyway. Maurice was due to retire in a few weeks, what would he do then? Too old to turn, to fondly held to kill; Matthew could only set him up in a comfortable place so he could die peacefully. Joslin, however, was a different story.
He remembered Joslin's rejection of his offers before - No, Matthew, I will die old and in my bed, or young and in a fight, but I was born human, I will die human - and he's tried to respect it for as long as he could. Joslin was just as important and closely held as Maurice or Blaine, but Matthew would have him. Some part of him mourned the life of the Russian that he could hear fading from the garage, only a wall away, but he was reassured by reminding himself of everything that Joslin had instead.
Power. A place next to him. A family; the same one he'd been a part of for years. The man would adjust. They all adjusted.
Perhaps Matthew should have been more considerate in choosing who let that sexy axe fall, but Blaine was the only one. He wouldn't have Joslin turned by someone he didn't influence or control. The man meant too much. They both did. It might take them a while, but he and his delusions were sure they'd come around to eventually forgiving him.
And in the end, Matthew was still the only one that got what he wanted.
Tonight he was playing that role and it had cost him a lot of blood. He was driving back on his motorcycle, everything passing by in a blur even to his enhanced vision. He had reported to Matthew that it was complete and when asked if he was alright, Blaine had to admit he was far lower on blood than he should be and barely holding on. There was a pause and then Matthew answered, "I'll get Joslin to handle it."
After that Blaine just concentrated on riding.
Blaine pulled up to the gate and through it as he'd been expected and it had opened. He zoomed up the drive and into the garage with barely any space to clear over his head. He was *hungry* and there was a heartbeat so close by. His eyes were being taken over by the monstrous hunger inside and when the door opened it didn't matter who it was. He was by his motorcycle dropping his helmet on the floor and the next moment he had flashed over and wrenched the neck of that sweet heartbeat sideways to expose the pulse to his open mouth.
Hot copper filled his mouth and his moan was just as orgasmic as his victim as he sank to his knees, taking the body with him, cradling it possessively and yet so gently. When he pulled his mouth back, it took him a minute of tenderly licking his lips and wiping the blood from his chin before he really felt like himself again. A long sigh of contentment left him before he looked down to move the body off of him.
The blood he'd just ingested ran cold and a lead weight knocked him in the chest and landed in the pit of his stomach.
A strangled noise left him as the sandy blonde hair framed a pale face slack in death. "Joslin," he whispered out, and his face crumpled into pain. His hand ran over his skin and his eyes wandered over the body. "Damnit, why were you here?" He should have known not to come. He had told Matthew what state he was in. No one should have been there except whatever victim he was suppose to-
-and a cold realization bloomed in his chest. It redoubled the pain he felt along with the quick burning Brujah rage. He had been used. This was Matthew's way to get what he wanted and he didn't want to do it himself. Blaine cursed under his breath but he couldn't let this be the end for Joslin and their Prince knew that. The blonde lifted his arm to his mouth and ripped open a gash that bled only briefly before closing up again, but it was long enough. He tilted the lolling neck back and let the blood drip into the now open mouth.
"I'm sorry for not asking," he murmured and watched the shiver of life suddenly go through the body in his lap. Eyes popped open, shocked and bewildered. He remembered it so well, his first awakening, and he made a promise to himself to give Matthew a punch right to his pretty face...
...as soon as he took care of the hunger that was quickly taking over Joslin's handsome face.
--
Blaine meant a lot to Matthew as a lover and companion alone but there was no denying how the blond influenced the court and how the raven haired Prince ruled. The area had done better for it, really, since Blaine balanced out the horrid temper and sometimes sulky, aggressive attitude, and while Matthew normally tended to his own matters, the rare one did require Blaine's more even head.
Of course, while Blaine had been nothing short of an amazing force of light and love, (ironic, considering), Matthew wasn't dumb enough to think that the former hitman would be enough. He needed his retainers too - Well, one of them anyway. Maurice was due to retire in a few weeks, what would he do then? Too old to turn, to fondly held to kill; Matthew could only set him up in a comfortable place so he could die peacefully. Joslin, however, was a different story.
He remembered Joslin's rejection of his offers before - No, Matthew, I will die old and in my bed, or young and in a fight, but I was born human, I will die human - and he's tried to respect it for as long as he could. Joslin was just as important and closely held as Maurice or Blaine, but Matthew would have him. Some part of him mourned the life of the Russian that he could hear fading from the garage, only a wall away, but he was reassured by reminding himself of everything that Joslin had instead.
Power. A place next to him. A family; the same one he'd been a part of for years. The man would adjust. They all adjusted.
Perhaps Matthew should have been more considerate in choosing who let that sexy axe fall, but Blaine was the only one. He wouldn't have Joslin turned by someone he didn't influence or control. The man meant too much. They both did. It might take them a while, but he and his delusions were sure they'd come around to eventually forgiving him.
And in the end, Matthew was still the only one that got what he wanted.
no subject
Joslin groaned, head swimming, and muttered through the blood and teeth and pain, "I should have stayed dead."
Matthew spoke up then, arms falling away so he could slip his hands in his pockets. "It was design. And it was mine." Joslin turned one bloodshot eye towards Matthew and let out a weak, wheezing laugh.
"You weren't supposed to damn me," he managed in very rough Russian. A cut or something must be bleeding into his eye because it was glassed over with the red tint of Vampire tears.
no subject
The hand that had been at the back of Joslin's head forcing it down lightened. Fingers gently stroked the sandy hair as the hand moved away and Blaine stood up. He took a few steps back and ran a hand through his hair while trying to control the emotions on his face. You weren't supposed to damn me.
A couple more steps and Blaine flopped back down on the couch. He let his head fall to rest on the back of the couch and looked at the ceiling for a few seconds before he focused back on Joslin. His face had settled into displeased but his guilt and regret were tucked away. "And now what's next in your design?" he asked softly, watching Joslin pull himself together and preparing for whatever the fledgling might try next.
no subject
"What's next?" Matthew asked softly, dark eyes still on the man at his feet. "We build him back up. Make him a part of the family, properly... Where he belongs." Matthew hiked up his trousers legs as he squatted down to talk to the Russian.
"You will always be part of my family, dear Jos. I couldn't let you go the same way Maurice went."
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"Ahhh, Matt," Blaine said with a sigh at the mention of Maurice. "People don't lose their place in the family when they die for good. You always remember them."
There was a sad tint to his face as his lip lifted and failed to form a smile because he couldn't help but wonder if that wasn't true when you lived several lifetimes. He leaned further forward to look intently at the prone body on the floor. "I'll help you adjust and it isn't because of guilt. I love you like a brother. You'll always be part of my family, Jos."
no subject
It felt like Blaine's assertion to the Russian had more heart in it somehow, and the fact that he couldn't readily identify why or what that was built a slow burning fury. Perhaps because, after going through it again and being judged by someone who wasn't his victim, he had started to feel guilty, somewhere inside.
Jos pushed to his knees, limbs trembling in the space between his push back and his push up, standing to his full, unimpressive height. Matthew rose with him. He wished he couldn't blame Blaine, but the wound, the betrayal from them both was too fresh.
"There is no adjusting to being an abomination," he said, staring at Matt stubbornly, chin jutted out like a proud little boy.
"You know that's not what we are," Matthew cautioned darkly.
no subject
At Joslin's stubborn resistance Blaine's face went blank for a moment. He had thought of himself as a monster sometimes, but that was even before he had gotten fangs. Never had he thought of himself or Matthew as an abomination.
"So when I got thrown out of the hospital window and shoved into the limo you drove all those years ago I went from a friend to an abomination to you?" he asked, his face deceptively neutral as he eyed the petulant man in front of him. "Was at the time we've spent together all these years just you tolerating me? Matthew?"