Phoenix Arun had never been prone to jealousy. Sure, he'd whine and sulk for attention from his lovers if he felt they weren't paying him enough mind, but he'd always been just secure enough in himself to never be truly possessive of them. That was somewhat at odds with how he was feeling tonight.Teles had lured him out to a club with promises of alcohol and a good time. Clubs weren't generally where he found his kicks these days. He was getting too old for them. Teles was insistent, though, and Phoenix figured there was no harm in it, as long as there was booze. He just hadn't expected to spend the night watching his boyfriend be ogled. He supposed he should have. Teles was a Siren, still as beautiful and perfect as the day he and Phoenix had first met. His hair was a deep, glossy, lush black, hair Phoenix had spent many nights running his fingers through. His eyes were just as black, as vibrant and lively as they were filled with old memories and experiences. His skin was pale, smooth, and warm to the touch. He appeared young and beautiful and perfect. And Phoenix?Phoenix had always been handsome. He'd grown from a lithe and slender youth into a strong and fierce man. In his younger days, he'd been muscular, his skin tanned from his long days in the sun. He'd had long, barely-tamed, dark hair, and a strong, stubbled jaw. To this day, he could still be considered handsome, but age, years of alcoholism, and general failure to properly care for himself were beginning to wear on him, and it showed. Teles had assured him that he aged like a fine wine, but every new wrinkle, gray hair, and other marks of age just reminded him that he was getting old. What was he, compared to his boyfriend, who stayed young no matter how many years passed? Not that Teles was shallow enough to leave him over a little gray hair, but it still did nothing good for his self-image. When a young, sun-kissed tan blond with no shirt moved in to dance with his man, it was the last straw. Phoenix slammed his empty beer glasses on the bar and stood, walking slowly towards the pair. Being old had its advantages. Scaring off little shits was one of them.When he first moved in, the younger man had glared back defiantly. Phoenix's glares were far more practiced. When he turned it on, it was a genuine threat. The younger man's face crumbled and he backed away. Phoenix took the opportunity to grab Teles by the hand and pull him into his protective arms. Phoenix: one. Shirtless douchebag: zero.
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