"Uh, yeah. Thinkin' out west. Like," Inner City, "I dunno. Arizona. Utah, maybe. Someplace don't look like this." No one, not even his mother, was going to hear him utter the name of that place. Sure he had conversed about Stan Norman's home during visits, but not about his living there.
Already knew in his gut his mother would try to bring a piece of herself along for the ride. So such thing as an isolated Samsa.
"Yeah. Phoenix is soundin' pretty good."
“Phoenix…” That was so much farther than she’d been expecting. “Well, it certainly couldn’t look much more different from here if it tried. Trading the coast for the desert. You’re gonna be jonesing for good seafood by the time you get back,” she added, smiling in the hopes of bringing some levity.
"Guess I'll be runnin' the pawn shop 'til the end of my life." Might have to change my name at some point, he thought, still unsure of his aging process. "I'll be with ya all the way."
June smiled and reached over to squeeze his hand. “And I’ll be with you. I’ll even cook for you whenever you want.”
"We could skip one of our gym days n'go swimmin' 'fore fall hits." He wanted to ask how she was doing, but thought better of the subject. Instead adjusting the thermostat, turning down the radio, and taking her hand.
“That’d be nice. The water always looks so inviting on days like today.” She was grateful for the light conversation, just as she was grateful for the smalltalk she made with the tourists.
“There’s gonna be a Halloween carnival this year, did you hear?”
The sound of Peter's name had him straightening. Probably unnoticed. The door was held open for her. As was the passenger side door. A gentleman for a sweet lady.
There was no need for concern on Fletcher’s part. Pete was upstairs in his office taking advantage of the lull and having his weekly phone call with his friends in France.
It only took June a few minutes to gather her things, smiling at Fletcher as she stepped through the door. “God, it’s like walking into a humidifier. Had it with this heat.”
June: "Before you say it's too much, no, it's not too much." June set two casseroles and a container of cookies she'd brought on Fletcher's table. "I was in a cooking mood."
Fletcher: "Are they rich and heart attack inducin'?" He smiled. "'Cause I love tormentin' Luke with that."
June: "They're loaded with chocolate chips and butter so yes," she said with a chuckle. "I put some nuts in there too. That's kinda healthy. Ish."
Fletcher: "I think he's tryin' t'make me vegan," he said, making a face.
June: She laughed. "He just wants you to be healthy and eat more green things."
Fletcher: "I'll be fine. He ain't gotta worry n'I don't like kale."
June: "It's good when it's mixed with other things. I put it in one of those casseroles."
Fletcher: He made another face. "You're one of them."
June: June laughed.
"There's a ton of cheese in there, too. And chicken."
Fletcher: His smile faded as he dwelled on a thought. "Ya like him, Luke?"
June: "Of course I do. He's sweet and he adores you, what's not to like?"
Fletcher: "He's all that, I just don't get why..."
June: She walked over and kissed Fletcher's cheek. "He does. And I do."
Fletcher: "But ya know what I do t'relationships. Ya saw it first-hand."
June: June squeezed his hand. "This isn't the same situation. Whole different ballgame here, and from an outsider's perspective, it looks like it's going really well. You look so happy."
Fletcher: "I am..." and it scared him. She probably already knew that.
June: She did, which was why he got another kiss and squeeze. "He looks really happy, too. You should see the way he looks at you." She smiled. "I'd give anything for someone to give me the Gatsby look."
Fletcher: Fletcher turned into the kiss, his sigh one of peace. "The Gatsby look?"
June: "You know that bit in the movie where they say Gatsby looked at Daisy the way everyone wanted to be looked at?"
Fletcher: "I ain't watched em or read it."
June: "Oh my god, you have to. It's such a good movie."
Fletcher: "It's a chick flick, right?"
June: "Parts of it could be called chick flick-y. The rest falls under classic."
Fletcher: "Classics can be chick flicks. Just sayin'."
June: "True, true. Either way you have to watch it so you'll get how Luke looks at you."
Fletcher: "Is it... watchable with him next t'me? What about ya watchin' with us?"
June: June nodded. "Yep! I think he'd really enjoy it."
She brightened, nodding immediately. "I'd love to!"
Fletcher: Those bright eyes made him smile. "How 'bout this Sunday?"
June: "Perfect! My place or yours?"
Fletcher: "How 'bout yours? New experience for him."
June: "Done. I'll get popcorn and junk food."
Fletcher: Another smile. "He'll probably bring kale juice or somethin'."
June: "No kale juice allowed on movie day!" she chuckled. "Tell him it's house rules."
Fletcher: "I'll let him know," he chuckled.
June: "See that you do. Any requests?"
Fletcher: "Those croissant-wrapped lil sausages? Please. I'll being the mustard. They've been banned from the house."
June: June laughed. "You got it," she said with a nod. "Did he really ban them?"
Fletcher: "He frowns loudly by how often I ate em so I stopped."
June: "Aww," she chuckled. "That's sweet. And a little funny."
Fletcher: "So, anyway," he wasn't used to so much romance talk, "how's work been? Any mention givin' ya trouble?" As though he hadn't been watching.
June: "It's been good! A lot less trouble behind the bar, especially now that P--" She abruptly cut herself off and continued down a different path. "You still get the occasional moron but that's par for the course. It's a bar after all."
Fletcher: "...It's okay, June. Ya know how t'punch now." Of course he was back; of course he knew. He had no intention to delve into that.
June: Neither did she. The last thing she wanted was to make Fletcher talk about Pete. If he wanted to talk about him, he'd bring him up.
"I do know how to punch now, thanks to you." She grinned. "Guess what? I found a boxing gym in the next town over."
Fletcher: "There's one in town but it's pretty seedy." She probably already knew that. With Peter mentioned, his mind was trailing away.
June: "It is," she said, making a face. "It almost makes O'Charlie's look like a five-star hotel."
Fletcher: "Yeah, if ya told me ya were goin' there I'd probably be goin' with ya."
June: June gasped. "You should go with me!"
Fletcher: "But it's so far." I'm so lazy.
June: "Come oooooon. I'll drive."
Fletcher: "Fine, fine. I'll help with gas money."
June: "I'll pass it on to my sister Ruby. I've been using her car since I don't have the Caddy anymore."
Fletcher: "What happened t'the Caddy?"
June: "Uh...its owner returned."
Fletcher: "...Right. That. Thought Luke was watchin' it. I swear ya mentioned this..."
June: "Luke's got his own fancy car. I was looking after the Caddy after my dad made me get rid of my 'road hazard'," she said, making air quotes.
Fletcher: "Road hazard?"
June: "That's what he used to call my Honda. It was up there in years and issues."
Fletcher: "Need a co-signer for a car?"
June: June gave Fletcher a pleasantly surprised look. "You'd do that for me?"
Fletcher: "If no one else in your family will or can, yeah."
June: "You're such a good friend." June squeezed him to within an inch of his life. "I love you."
Fletcher: "Augh!" He groaned, laughter following. "It's just a car, Junebug. I got ya covered."
June: "It's more than that," she said, squeezing him more.
Fletcher: He held to her by her forearm. "What is it?"
June: "Just...the fact that you'd even offer. And mean it."
Fletcher: "Ya know others would offer."
June: "Yeah but that's my family. I know a lot of people but not a lot of people like you." She kissed his cheek. "I mean, you taught me how to throw a punch."
Fletcher: Why wasn't it Peter years ago? He was frowning. He tried to mask it, looking away and patting her arm. "Love ya, too."
June: "Hey." June gently took his face in her hands. "What is it?"
Fletcher: "S'nothin, bug."
June: "You can tell me."
Fletcher: "I can but we don't talk 'bout that."
June: She nodded, kissing his forehead. "Okay. But if you ever need to or just want to, we can. You can talk to me about anything, Fletcher. You know that, don't you?"
Fletcher: "Ya ain't gotta be that kinda person, honey. Ya deserve better than someone talkin' your ear off."
June: "I'd be one hell of a hypocrite if I spent all day talking people's ears off and couldn't take the time to listen to my best friend."
Fletcher: "Who was your best friend before me?"
June: "No one. Haven't had a best friend since middle school."
Fletcher: "Don't tell me that. Now we sound like kids."
June: She laughed softly. "There are worse things to sound like."
Fletcher: "I guess. Just...curious why someone didn't teach ya sooner."
June: She didn't have to ask who the someone was; his tone told her. "Short answer? I never thought to ask or think I needed it."
Fletcher: "That's not how our conversation went. I offered n'asked because it was obvious."
June: "I'm sure it was to him, too. Why do you think he got a reputation for yelling and throwing people out? It was because of me."
Fletcher: "He does a lot of that anyway."
June: "He's always yelled, sure. He's always broken up fights. But he never had to manhandle someone out the door until I started working there. And he wouldn't have had to if I'd had more self-respect and better taste."
Fletcher: The Samsa blinked. "Why ya sayin' that?"
June: She gave him a small, sad smile. "Because it's true. Self-respect and I are just starting to become friends."
Fletcher: "Why d'ya - It doesn't matter what kinda woman ya are, ya should be respected. N'he shoulda done better. He shoulda been good t'ya n'given ya the tools t'stand up for yourself."
June: "He tried, Fletcher. He drove me to the army surplus store once on my birthday to buy me a knife and I didn't let him. I lost count of all the times he warned me about men I dated and I never listened. He's been very good to me, he tried to do right by me. I just...I couldn't see the writing on the wall. So he started punching people."
Fletcher: "Why didn't ya take the knife?"
June: "I didn't think I needed it. Thought he was just being Pete, you know? Being overprotective."
Fletcher: "D'ya have one now?"
June: June nodded, smile a little happier. "Yeah. He gave it to me that following Christmas. Along with that." She pointed at the alarm panel on the wall.
Fletcher:
"Good." Knife, alarm, boxing. She was improving herself with defense. "Would ya be opposed t – never mind."
June: "No, tell me. Opposed to what?"
Fletcher: "Workin' at like... The Brig. I miss seein' ya."
June: "I miss seeing you, too. Why do you think I'm trying to make you go to the gym with me?"
Fletcher: "...Alright. Yeah. Then I'll... I'll definitely go."
June: "Yay!" He was squeezed and kissed yet again. "We're gonna be so ripped."
Fletcher: Now that he had to laugh at. "This physique doesn't get ripped. I tried in high school."
June: "Then we're gonna be in really, really good shape. We'll be able to run marathons."
Fletcher: "Alright. We'll see. Ready t'deck someone in the face for whistlin'? Ain't that what happens these days?"
June: "A whistle's nice every now and then. But if someone tries to grab my ass, they're going down."
Fletcher: "I'll be there cheerin' ya on, bug."
June: June beamed at him. "You always are. You deserve a cookie for it. Do you like chocolate chip?"
Fletcher: "What am I, a hound?" he laughed.
June: "If you were I couldn't give you chocolate chip," June said with a giggle.
Fletcher: "Ruff!" He laughed against her cheek before kissing it. "Muwah."
June: June giggled again at the kiss. Well that affection definitely deserved a gigantic hug. "I love you to death, you know that?"
Fletcher: "Mm," was a content little sound in response. "M'not worthy."
June: "You're the worthiest. No arguments."
Fletcher: "...Hmm."
June: "Ah, that was an argument. None of that."
Fletcher: Ah. He shook his head and laughed. "Weird kid."
June: "You love my weirdness," she said cheerfully. "Want some coffee with your cookie?"
Fletcher: "What, right now?"
June: "Sure! No time like the present."
Fletcher: "Uh...okay."
June: "Great!" She kissed his cheek. "I like fussing over you."
Fletcher: "I guess I spoil ya with reasons, huh?"
June: "Your existence is all the reason I need, sweetheart."
Fletcher: "Ugh. Stop with the diabetes!"
June: "Neverrrrrr."
Fletcher: "Tell me somethin' with less sugar."
June: "Um....Socks killed a rat?"
Fletcher: "Awesome," he smiled.
June: "It was waiting for me when I got out of the shower. I almost stepped on it."
Fletcher: "It was a gift. He thinks you're hungry."
June: "I know, and it would be super cute if it wasn't a rat and if I hadn't screamed. He brought me a cheerio later that day."
Fletcher: "Well, he saw y'all had different tastes," he laughed.
June: "He's a smart little cookie, I love him."
Fletcher: "He have anyone else to play with?"
June: "His brother, Mrs. Pennyapple's kitty. I try to go over there as often as I can."
Fletcher: "He don't mind the travel?"
June: "I think he enjoys it. I carry him in my jacket."
Fletcher: "You're a regular ol' Snow White."
June: "In looks at least," she said with a smile. "How's Creep?"
Fletcher: "Creep's still a Creep. Still can't tell if she likes Luke or not."
June: "She's a mysterious lady. I can't tell if she likes me either."
Fletcher: "She didn't even like her babies. I think they were her first."
June: "How old is she?"
Fletcher: "Almost ten? Shit, probably older."
June: "And these were her first babies? Damn."
Fletcher: "She's not an outside cat. She only purrs when I feed her and when she tries to smother me in my sleep."
June: June giggled. "Socks does the same thing. They want all the warmth."
Fletcher: "So, what d'ya wanna do now?"
June: "I say we eat and watch something ridiculous."
Fletcher: "Campy movie and greasy burgers?"
June: "You're a genius."
Fletcher: "I'll order the food, ya pick the movie."
June: She gave him a giant kiss on the cheek. "Deal!"
Live Music Nights at Pete’s || Caldias, Rotheus, Goodram, Luke, Peabody, & June
Pete/Peabody: "Night off?" Pete asked as he set a beer in front of Deputy Peabody. The bar was busy, but not so busy that he couldn't spare a few moments to chat with his patrons.
"Yep, and good thing too. Got to spend some time with Bridget just in time to stop World War 3."
Luke: Luke was not one to drink or go to a bar in general, but he had been feeling very weak. Enough so that he was making his way there purely because it was nearby. Limbs felt heavy and slightly out of balance, the walk is slow but he manages it, only to be intimated by the amount of people he sees. Oh dear. Perhaps this was a mistake.
June: Whether it was or wasn't didn't quite matter just now, for Luke had been spotted by June and getting away from her brand of friendly conversation was akin to a Herculean task.
"Hey, Luke!" She stepped out from behind the bar and went over to greet him properly. "How you doin'?"
Luke: The blond perks up when he sees a familiar face, a smile gracing his features as he steps closer to her. "Hello! I'm... I'm well, thank you. How are you? How has your day been?"
June: "I'm glad to hear that," she said with a smile. "I'm just fine. Been busy in here today but it's nothing we can't handle. Can I getcha anything?"
Luke: "Actually... I'm quite fancying a strawberry milkshake but I can't imagine that you serve those." he laughs and moves fingers through his hair.
June: "Not usually, buuuuut..." She gave him a sneaky smile. "Find a seat and gimme like...five minutes."
Luke: He laughs, "Excellent. Thank you ever so." He nods in appreciation and glances around. He spots a seat beside a man, and none else that are more suitable. He heads over hesitantly.
"Excuse me, is this seat taken? The bar is quite... busy."
Peabody: Peabody looked up from his beer at the unfamiliar voice, shaking his head. "Nope, go right ahead."
Luke: "Thank you, I truly appreciate it." He settles down and smiles, it only lasts a moment before he shies away, turning his head.
Peabody: "No problem." He's not usually one for small talk but he can't remember ever seeing this guy before. "You new in town or just visiting?"
Luke: "Oh, undecided. I'm currently staying in the lovely hotel but I've obtained a job. It's a strange in-between state. A tourist dressed up as a resident."
Peabody: He chuckled. "If you ask me, that's how half the people in this town ended up moving here. They came down for a weekend, took in the local color, and before you know it they're locals themselves. You're in good company."
Luke: "I'm not surprised. It's utterly beautiful here. It's akin to something I could only ever read about in novels. Until now, of course."
Peabody: Now when was the last time anyone had ever expressed themselves about Edenton that way? This guy had to be some kind of poet. Or maybe an art student. Still...
"Can't argue with that. We got woods, some beach, nice waterfront, the river, and Albemarle Sound is just a quick sail away."
Luke: "Everyone I've met here has been absolutely wonderful too!" Ronan didn't count. He didn't meet Ronan in Edenton.
Peabody: "Now that I can argue with," Peabody chuckled. "I'm the sheriff's deputy and believe me, you're lucky to have not met some of our more...interesting citizens."
Luke: "Oh?" He's surprised, yet not at the same time. Nowhere could be completely idyllic. "How could anyone cause problems in a place like this? Where is the room for negative feelings?"
Peabody: "At the pirate bar down by the docks. Place called The Brig. Lots of room for negative feelings there. It's nothing like this bar."
Luke: "Best to steer clear? I suppose I'll stick to this one in that case. This bar is perfectly lovely."
Peabody: Peabody gave a small shrug. "I don't mind it all that much. I like a change of pace every now and then. This place is a lot nicer though. More peaceful, cleaner."
Luke: "You enjoy the danger?" He smiles sweetly. He can't imagine that life, but he is not deputy sheriff.
Peabody: "In a way, yeah," he chuckled. "It's nice coming in here and having people to talk to and having a good meal but sometimes you just wanna brood and drink and play pool, you know?"
Luke: No, he didn't know. Luke shrugs. "I suppose." Whatever makes him happy. "Are you here alone?"
Peabody: Peabody nodded. "Yep. It's my night off. Just finished a date."
Luke: "A date?" He perks up a little, "I hope it was wonderful."
Peabody: That got a big, happy smile from the deputy. "It was. I thought my girl was gonna spend the whole time being mad at me--I don't get nights off very often--but she was great. The whole thing was great. Took her to dinner."
Luke: The smile is contagious. "Then why are you here now?"
Peabody: "She had to go to work. She's a nurse, got stuck with the night shift."
Luke: "Ah, I see. Well you both have very... impressive jobs. As much as it must make time together difficult your effort is valued, I assure you."
Peabody: Well, hell. This guy just kept surprising him. When had anyone ever acknowledged his efforts just out of the blue? Never, that's when.
"Thanks for that." He offered his hand. "Jeremy Peabody."
Luke: The hand is taken in a handshake midway between firm and gentle. "Luke Husher. It's a pleasure to meet you."
Peabody/June: "Same here, Luke," he said just as June returned with a rather large beer mug filled not with beer, but with a strawberry shake.
She set in front of Luke and winked. "If anyone asks, that's a hot toddy."
Luke: The blond grins as he takes the mug. "Thank you ever so." He laughs, "It looks lovely."
Peabody/June: "I put a ridiculous amount of ice cream in there, just for you."
"How come you don't make me contraband milkshakes?" Peabody wondered.
"Because your girlfriend lives on the other half of my duplex and I listen to her complain about you." June smiled at him. "But since she called me to gush about how wonderful you are today, I'll give you a free beer."
"Sold."
Luke: "Perfect." Luke smiles at the two of them but during their conversation he doesn't want to eavesdrop, so he takes to glances around at the people there, drinking, laughing, talking. This town is full of beautiful people and beautiful things. Jeremy is, of course, part of that list.
June: June poured Peabody his free beer before turning back to Luke. "Can I getcha anything else, sweetie? Bobby's got burgers on the menu tonight."
Luke: "Oh, no thank you, this is more than enough for me. You're far too kind." He stirs his milkshake a little. "Has Fletcher come in today?"
June: Her smile fell just a bit. "No, not today. Things have been, well...I'll let him tell you."
Luke: "Is he alright?" Luke's skin goes cold, "Has something happened to him?"
June: "Physically he's fine."
Luke: "That's not as comforting as it should be."
June: That smile got sad. "No. It really isn't."
Luke: A hand reaches out to settle on June's. "Are you alright? If you need anything I'm here for you."
Peabody/June: For just a moment, June and Peabody were thinking the exact same thing; where had this sweet young man come from? After all the horrible things people had been saying--were saying even now--Luke was more than a breath of a fresh air. He was a new atmosphere.
"Next time you see him, give him a hug, okay? And don't be the first to let go."
Luke: "I never am." He smiles in what he hopes is a reassuring manner. His hand returns to the milkshake. "Perhaps I should send him a message? Or would space be ideal?" It's difficult to know, since he isn't sure what happened.
Peabody/June: "I'd send him a message, or maybe go see him. I don't want him to be alone." Or feel alone.
Peabody was sorry to say he didn't share Luke's ability not to eavesdrop. But these days, it was hard to avoid it. Everyone and their damn brother was talking about Pete, Fletcher, and MJ. It was so bad that Peabody was surprised Pete was working at all, but that was Pete. He would've seen staying home as a sign of defeat.
Peabody respected that.
Luke: "Hmm... I'll send him a little thing now to let him know I'm thinking of him. Excuse me a moment." He smiles politely and brings out his phone and sends Fletcher a little text. It's nothing obvious, he doesn't mention June or makes it seem as though he has any idea he knows something happened. It's just a simple, clean, pure message, just to let Fletcher know that Luke cares... he also adds 'I hope this text didn't cause you to projectile vomit. Also, don't make a joke about getting diabetes from me. I've heard it too many times.'
Fletcher: [Text]: I might need an insulin shot after this
He might have been smiling on his end. He didn't have to hide it from anyone.
Luke: He stops taking his sip of the milkshake to check his phone, "This is delicious, June." And once he reads the message he's smiling too.
[Text]: I'd be happy to administer it.
[Text]: Be kind to yourself until I am there to do it for you?
Fletcher: [Text]: I might OD on insulin with that text
Luke: [Text]: I am certain that's untrue because I know that needles are number one on your list of fears. You can hide nothing from me!
June: June smiled at him. "Glad you like it, sweetie. Lemme know if you want another one."
Luke: "I will, thank you." He smiles at Jeremy teasingly. "Do you like milkshakes too or were you just trying to guilt a free drink?"
Peabody: "Neither, I just like messing with June." Peabody grinned. "Keeps me young."
Luke: "I see. The fountain of youth is actually June! I can believe that." He happily sips his milkshake, hand covering his mouth and wiping his lips even when there is nothing on them.
Peabody: Peabody laughed. "Yep, she totally is. That's why she's so sweet and pretty."
Luke: "It makes perfect sense. I wholeheartedly agree."
June: "You two are ridiculous," June said around a laugh. "And very sweet so thanks for that."
Luke: Luke smiles and shakes his head, sipping the milkshake happily. "You're more than welcome."
June: "So where's Fletcher tonight?"
Luke: "He... didn't specify." Luke laughs, "Probably getting tested for diabetes, apparently my text messages are far too sweet. His words."
June: "That definitely sounds like something he would say." She grinned. "Send him more of them."
Luke: He smiles, "What should I say?"
June: "Tell him.....he's lovely and wonderful."
Luke: Ah. "I tell him that all the time, it's hardly anything new." The smile grows and he sends the text. He even puts a little smiley face at the end of it. "I hope he doesn't get annoyed with me."
June: For some reason that made June really happy. It was only right that Fletcher be told nice things; he deserved to hear them.
"Why would he?"
Luke: "He tends to get annoyed when I compliment him. Do you know Fletcher?" The question directed at Peabody, wanting to include him in the conversation.
Peabody/June: "Well if he gets annoyed this time just blame me."
Peabody nodded. "Sure do. Known him all my life. How'd you meet him?"
Luke: "By accident," he softly answers, sipping his milkshake briefly. It's very tasty. "I was searching for someone and he came to my aid, he helped me find the hotel, introduced me to June, and when my necklace broke he fixed it for me. He's been very kind."
Peabody/June: "Sounds like he's been a real knight in shining armor for you." Though the words earned him a scowl from June, Peabody hadn't meant them condescendingly.
Luke: Luke beams and nods, "He-- he has, in a way. Truly." He glances at his phone. Just checking.
Peabody: "So are you guys just friends or....something else?"
Luke: "Wh-" Luke's blush is obvious, one he tries to hide with his drink, "just friends."
Peabody/June: Huh. Was that blush because of the question or because of things it had brought to mind? More importantly, did Luke know about Fletcher's...thing...with Pete?
Before he could inquire further, June shot him another look and stepped in. "He text you back yet?" she asked.
Fletcher: Nope. Nothing. He refused to indulge Luke by responding.
Luke: A distraction he is grateful for. Luke checks and double checks. "No he hasn't. Which is unsurprising, really."
June: "He'll reply eventually. Won't be able to resist."
Luke: Luke chuckles, "We'll see." He pauses for a moment, "Oh- I was meaning to ask, the performances are tonight, aren't they? How does that work? I was going to ask Fletcher but if he's had a hard time I don't want to bother him."
June: June nodded. "Yep, but it's only the one tonight. Pete hasn't booked anyone besides Callum. Why? Got musical talent you wanna share?"
Luke: "Oh. Well... yes. If that's possible. I play the piano... and sing."
June: She grinned. "You're in luck. We have a piano in the back. And it happens to be on wheels."
Luke: He grins and sits up, "Would it- as long as it isn't too much trouble, of course! I wouldn't want to cause any problems, it being such short notice and all."
June/Pete: "It wouldn't cause any problems at all, I'd just have to ask Pete. Gimme one sec." Pete had gone into the kitchen to check on Bobby, so June disappeared through the door after him.
Guildias: Guildias was just closing the door nearby Bobby's lone chair as June entered the kitchen. He seemed to have someone in tow. He smiled as politely as always to the lovely kine. "Evening, June."
June/Pete: Leaving Pete to the conversation he was having at the moment, June turned to their new arrival. "Hi, Guildias!" she said, smiling back. "Who's your friend?"
Ronan: His 'friend' is a very disgruntled one. Ronan didn't want to be there. He had been perfectly comfortable away from Callum, and far, far away from Luke. But no. Ronan takes a deep breath. He had already sent a text to Matheus on the way there, and he hoped he'd get his stupid British ass there soon.
"Ronan." that's all you're getting, lady.
Guildias: The vampire felt behind him for Ronan, squeezing at his shoulder. You're alright, Ronan. "I hope you don't mind the entrance. Was hoping to make this brief. I don't hear Callum on stage yet."
June: "It's fine, and no, he's not here yet. That wedding he was doing the flowers for today got hit by that mean wind and he had to fix them all. He'll be here in a bit."
Ronan: "Yaaaay." A quiet, sarcastic voice from behind the vampire.
Guildias: And the reaper was given a sharp pinch. "Back here, or up there, Ronan?"
Ronan: "Out there." He points back out the way they came in. The pouty look on his face remains even when his arm drops. "Wherever there's alcohol."
Guildias: "Alcohol is in the opposite direction, little lord," he said softly, for Ronan's ears alone.
June: June gave the two of them a strange look but didn't comment. "Your spot at the bar is free right now. Grab it before the place fills up."
Ronan: Eyes flicker up to Guildias, he doesn't notice the way he leans in closer. "C'mon. Let's get shitfaced so I can handle this."
Guildias: "By your leave," he said, motioning to the door June had entered from, nodding in regard to her once more. "Mind if I fill our glasses?"
June: "Go ahead. If Jeremy says something just tell him to hush."
Luke/Ronan: Luke was making small conversation and sipping his milkshake when Ronan moves through. When he looks up he's stopped in his tracks, and Luke slowly breaks eye contact, his smile fading. Whatever. Ronan sits at the bar, leaning on it, just pretending he saw nothing.
Guildias: Guildias had his attention on all of the bottles, intentionally leaving Ronan and this Luke fellow to their awkward silence. When he did turn, his eyes were fixed on the only one of the two he cared about.
"What do you want to drink?"
Luke/Ronan: Luke assumes this is Ronan's partner and his staring lasts until the question is asked until he looks away, shifting uncomfortably. He itches, looking at his phone. Fletcher? No. He doesn't want to be bothered with this.
"About a thousand vodka shots would be ace." Ronan shifts in the seat and sighs. Kill him. Just kill him. Ronan won't even look at Luke, eyes are trained on the vampire or on alcohol.
June: Luckily for Luke, rescue soon appeared in the form of June and Pete.
"Hey there," he said, giving Luke a friendly smile that was at once tired and very sad. Just like everything else about him. "You Luke?"
Guildias: A glance was given to his student and back to the shot glasses, lining ten in a row in front of the reaper. As hilarious as Guildias found his situation, he could sympathize and the reason for that was right in front of him. Should have been more careful.
A bottle of black Belvedere Unfiltered was opened, two hundred dollars pulled from wallet before he found his bottle of Chartreuse.
Luke/Ronan: Luke tries to smile again and once he starts to nod it works. "Yes! Hi, Pete, wasn't it? It's lovely to meet you." A hand extends to shake the others. "I hope I haven't interrupted anything?"
Under his breath, Ronan scoffs. Prick. His gaze flickers over the money. Interesting. "What? You payin' for me?"
Guildias: "Am I not to treat you this evening?" Unlike the owner of the bar, the vampire's smile was genuine and very much alive.
Pete: Pete nodded and shook Luke's hand. "That's me. And don't worry, you didn't interrupt. June tells me you'd like to perform tonight."
Luke/Ronan: "You can treat me every fuckin' night." He leans his head against Guildias, though the mention of performing has Ronan's eyes straying. How long has it been since he's heard Luke sing? "This was a bad idea," he whispers.
"Ah, yes. Um- with the piano? I sing and play, but I'm fine without the piano if it's hassle. How does it work? Is it... several songs, or one, or...?"
Guildias/Matheus: Guildias leaned over from the other side of the bar to accommodate, whispering, "You can do this. Your rescuer will be with you soon. You'll have both of us."
Matheus was making his way there as he spoke, checking his watch - the watch Ronan had given him - for the fifth time. It had been years since he'd been to Pete's pub. He wondered how it might have upgraded with the change of hands.
Pete: "Piano's no problem, just a matter of rolling it out. You can do as few as four and as many as thirteen with a short break halfway through. What kinda music you play?"
Luke/Ronan: "Oh, I see." He smiles and nods, "Slow. I don't tend to do anything upbeat, honestly. I'm a little out of practice, also. Hopefully it won't be too awful."
Deep breaths. Ronan stares at Guildias before leaning away. A shot is picked up, downed, another, downed, downed, downed, all ten in a row without a breath in between. Ow. Fuck. He groans and rubs his face. "More."
Pete: "Simon and Garfunkel type slow or love ballad type slow?"
Guildias: "Remember where you are, little lord." Never taking his eyes off of the bottle, glasses, and Ronan, the two hundred was folded and offered quietly to Peter. No need to say anything. They've done this dance before.
Luke/Ronan: "Love ballad," that makes both Luke and Ronan's spine crawl. "I'm a traditional man."
"What does that even mean?" is half snapped, "Remember what dumb town we're in? Remember what fuckin' people I'm surrounded by? Yeah, it's hard to forget. That's what I'm tryna do, though. Forget."
Pete: Pete nodded, taking the money and putting it in the register. He'd do the math on Guildias' tab later. "That should be all right. Just not too sappy or maudlin. And no Bette Midler songs."
Guildias/Matheus: "Ronan." His hand was brief on his cheek, brief but affectionate. Did he really have to say it when his body language gave away so much more? It had been their problem in the past. Luckily, it wouldn't matter much longer, as a Malkavian walked through the door.
Luke/Ronan: "I see. I'll keep that in mind." Not too sappy... most of what Luke knows is out the window now, but he can try to figure something out. "Would you like a list of songs for approval?"
Ronan exhales at the touch. His mind is too clouded to notice Matheus, he just moves a glass closer. "More?"
Pete: "You don't have to, but you can give me one if you want. And if you get it done before Callum gets here you can open for him. Sound good?"
Guildias/Matheus: "Another. Let's retire to the back of the bar. Alright?" Less stimulus to aggravate.
"That'd be best." Ronan would feel a familiar cool hand against his lower back, thumb circling as it always did.
Luke/Ronan: "Yes, excellent. I'll work on that." He smiles gratefully, "Thank you. It's very kind." And of course, now to message Fletcher. No mention of Ronan, no mention of anything apart from the fact that he'll be performing tonight and if he wishes to he may come watch. Maybe Fletcher will feel better being around people, if he's alone.
The hand makes him suddenly flinch- but the moment Ronan turns he sighs. "Fuck. Matheus." Arms wrap around his waist and squeeze. "That's Luke," is whispered against his torso.
Fletcher/Guildias/Matheus: What normally would have been a hostile environment was made docile by sweet Ronan. Kisses were given to his curls. "Go find us a seat in the back. Something near a window if you can. I'll get your drinks."
Guildias was already setting up a tray.
Fletcher, across the street, was staring at his phone. He still had no intention of going. With two vampires mingling so closely, it was probably for the best.
Luke/Ronan: Luke is staring at his phone, finishing what was left of his milkshake. He follows it up with 'It would mean a lot to some people if you came.' Some people being him and June. 'I have to decide on a list of songs, too, I could use a musician's help.' If nothing else is achieved, even if Fletcher doesn't come, he'd at least like a response.
"Mmm. Okay." He leans up for a kiss that is sure to break Luke's heart, but glancing at them it only makes Luke stand.
"Are you going to ignore me for eternity, Ronan?" His voice as soft as ever, even when upset.
"Maybe. Sounds like a great plan t'me."
"Even you are not that cruel." Ronan rolls his eyes and Luke turns his attention to Matheus with a smile, genuine and calm. "I take it you're his fiancé? Congratulations, I'm Luke." A hand extends for a polite shake. He will prove he doesn't intend to cause any trouble.
Fletcher/Guildias/Matheus: Ronan was taking kisses, and his fiancé was reaching into his pockets for black cotton gloves. So long as their exchange of words didn't peak to a physical altercation, there was no intention by Matheus nor Guildias to stop them.
"Matheus Clay. Pleasure to meet your acquaintance."
There was a second of privacy between them, Guildias and Peter. The teacher observed the student. "Good to know you'll always have some kind of clientele, human or otherwise," he whispered, nodding a hello to the deputy. Ah, you're on the list.
Fletcher was pacing in his living room. Absolutely he could not use his power to watch; he didn't hate Peter enough to destroy his business based on an imaginary infestation.
[Text]: I'll be there soon.
Luke/Ronan: "Matheus." Luke repeats it purely for the sake of it. Ronan's fiancé now has a name that comes with a face. That smile of his falters and Ronan stares. He doesn't like this one bit. "Where- if you don't mind my asking, it's only that your accent... where exactly are you from?" The sound of his phone distracts him, "Oh, excuse me, I'll be performing tonight and I've invited someone." He briefly checks his phone enough to makes him smile and fill Ronan with rage.
"Who? Fletcher?" he hisses, "The second he walks through that door I'm gonna punch him in the fuckin' face."
Peabody/Pete: Pete didn't bother looking up from the tray of sidecars he was making. It would've required energy he just didn't have. "So I get to be Mary Magdalene and not be broke," he murmured back, voice flat and lifeless. "Great day for me."
Peabody nodded back, giving Pete a sympathetic look. Poor bastard.
Guildias/Matheus: "It's fine to ask. London. Keep in mind that was a lifetime ago." A simple human phrase, easy to get away with. His smile was polite, not completely artificial, but tempered. "Of course," Matheus said, reaching for Ronan's hand for a visionless grasp. He wondered if the gloves were working. He refused to show another reaper such intimacy. His attention was then turned to his fiancé. "Would you really deny yourself my company for something so trivial?"
Guildias couldn't look away from the train wreck that was his pupil. "Do their opinions really matter that much to you?"
Luke/Ronan: "Oh! Lovely!" Luke's eyes search for June and he smiles at her, "June, he replied to me saying he'll be coming." Luke gives Ronan an uncertain look but his statement is otherwise ignored. Surely he wouldn't do that?
The gloves work, no visions come, but it isn't what Ronan wants. He's always enjoyed seeing those terrible things. They remind him of how cruel and awful people and life can be. "It ain’t trivial. It would be hilarious. C'mon. Let's go sit."
Pete: "Two days ago my little nephew asked my sister who Mary Magdalene was and why people were calling me that."
Pete did look up then. "I don't care that they talk about me. I care when it gets to my family, when they have to hear the talk."
Guildias/Matheus: "It's rather original, isn't it? Now, if they said Tiger Woods, that would be a different laugh." The benefits of modern social media. "I'm going to play nice with those two. Keep the blond on this side of the room, will you? If they fight I'd rather it be behind the bar as per the usual."
As soon as they were situated, Ronan was tugged into a brief kiss. "Didn't think I'd be seeing you tonight."
Luke/Ronan: They needn't worry, Luke has done all the damage to Ronan that he's willing to do. Luke simply reseats himself and starts to think about what songs he should sing. Though his eyes linger on Ronan as he moves away he doesn't do much else, he's simply sitting and waiting for Fletcher.
Ronan looks back at Luke too, but the moment they're sat down in the most comfortable place Ronan can find Matheus is all Ronan cares about. The kiss leaves him smiling and fingertips brush against his jaw. "Yeah? Disappointed?"
Pete: Pete just looked at Guildias for a few seconds. "You're an asshole," he said dispassionately. The tray of drinks was handed off to Rita. "Keep your fights contained yourself."
Fletcher/Guildias/Matheus: "Why don't you just go home and wallow in peace, Mr. Graham."
If Fletcher had known Peter would be his first sight when walking in he might not have made the trek across the road. Now he was in the doorway and frozen.
"Not disappointed, just pleasantly surprised. Whose idea was this?"
Luke/Ronan: Luke's eyes are locked on the white scar on his middle finger. If he had known that Fletcher was there, he would have turned and encouraged him in, if he had known about Peter he wouldn't have invited him in the first place, if only everyone knew what should be known.
"Guildias'. I didn't wanna come. Figured Callum would be here... an' Luke, an' Fletcher... why the fuck would I wanna be here unless you're here too?"
Pete: "Because that's exactly what I want to do." He was here to prove something to himself, you see. It was taking everything he had not to walk out that door and go home but goddammit he was going to hold his ground.
Fletcher/Guildias/Matheus: "And I thought my life was messy," muttered the Setite. With how often he was here, it should have been no surprise how he looked to Peabody and his empty glass expectantly.
When Fletcher did remember to move, to breathe, he didn't take to Luke's side, but his usual place at the end of the bar closest to the door. He didn't need to be near cops, either.
"Why did you agree to this in the first place?" asked Matheus, cradling Ronan's hand between his own.
Luke/Ronan: Movement makes Luke glance up, then again to register. Why is he sat so far away? He looks from Fletcher to Ronan, seeing him smile and touch someone so gently. He's very much sick and tired of not feeling adequate. His heart burns and he stands, heading to the bathroom.
"Figured it's gonna happen sooner or later. I can't avoid everyone forever, right?" As much as he'd love to, "Plus... Guildias' place seriously lacked alcohol. At least I can be drunk here." Ronan laughs and kisses Matheus' cheek. "You wanna have some of me? I've had, like, ten shots."
Peabody/June/Pete: Peabody nodded to Guildias' silent question, but his attention wasn't entirely on Callum's husband. It was split between the different players in this scene.
Some of it was on Fletcher and his choice of seat after he seemingly remembered how to move. Some of it was on the way Pete's hands started shaking as soon as he realized Fletcher was here, how he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, and looked like he wanted to run. And the rest was on June, and the smile she gave Fletcher and the concerned hand that squeezed Pete's arm.
So much going on between the three of them, silent and unnoticed.
Fletcher/Guildias/Matheus: “Doesn’t surprise me,” said Matheus. “At a certain point people get stuck in their ways, as it goes. Some people’s way is everything, most are narrower. I mean, look at me.” His smile was modest but playful. The usual demeanor when out in public. Another example of routine nature. Despite everything he was still Inspector Abberline, a reserved man.
Drinks poured, for those at the bar – Why was he playing host? Gave his hands something to do. – and Guildias checked his watch again. Callum should be here by now. The quivering kine to his right needed a rock.
Fletcher, meanwhile, was keeping his head down. Don’t look at Peter, don’t look at Deputy Peabody. June was busy consoling someone more worthy, and the last thing he needed was a confrontation with the asshole behind him. Just wait for Luke. Any second now.
Luke/Ronan: Luke locks himself inside a cubicle. Ronan got to shout at him, swear at him, but Luke had remained passive as always. He tried to keep everything pleasant. He isn't allowed to be angry, or upset, he always has to play the role of the good one. He doesn't know what happened between Fletcher and Peter, all that he's seen is himself doing his best and Fletcher not even bothering to greet him. Why doesn't he get to be hurt? It doesn't matter, does it? It doesn't matter that he's never been so angry in his entire life. He's never felt quite so unequal to the people around him. He just needs to calm himself down, just breathe. You're overreacting. Just breathe.
"What does that even mean?" he laughs, "You ain't stuck in your ways, you're engaged to a man, if you were stuck in your ways you'd be with some chick with a flat arse." The self-declaration of being a man goes unnoticed by Ronan. Perhaps he shouldn't have had so many shots.
June: Until Callum got here, June was more than willing to play rock; not just for Pete, but for Fletcher.
She drew him a Miller from the tap and brought it over to him. "Hey honey," she said gently, leaning over the bar to kiss his cheek. "Have you eaten? Bobby made your favorite."
Fletcher/Matheus: “Victoria had a lovely ass, I’ll have you know, and my first wife? Immaculate breasts.” Oh, he was grinning. “Can’t compare to you though, can they?” It hadn’t escaped Matheus’ attention, but he wasn’t going to say a word on the subject. Ronan would notice on his own someday or he wouldn’t. Nothing to dwell on tonight in a bar in public.
Just Miller. Good. June seemed to have a sixth sense and Fletcher was grateful for it.
“Thanks.” The glass was pulled closer. “Yeah? I wouldn’t mind some. Has Luke ate already? Peter’s really gonna let him play?”
Ronan: Nice save, Matheus. Ronan was truly glaring. "No, obviously. I have a perfect arse an' people are always complimentin' me on my breasts." A sly smile reveals as he leans in, pressing his lips to Matheus', allowing his tongue to touch tongue regardless of where they are.
June: She nodded. "Yep, he really is. Gonna roll that piano out on the stage and let Luke do his thing. He might be opening for Callum if he doesn't get here in the next few minutes."
"As for eating, he wasn't hungry so I made him a milkshake."
Fletcher/Guildias/Matheus: His hand pressed to his stomach. That sickening feeling in Fletcher's core was only getting worse. Was that anxiety? He was no psychologist, but he was pretty sure he had heard that somewhere. A frosty cold beer wasn't going to soothe him.
"Did he fall in the fuckin' toilet?" A good excuse as any to get up and powerwalk to the men's bathroom.
Matheus was prepared for a comeback, but a tongue was in his way and that was just fine. He'd never displayed affection so publicly before. Being in the corner helped boost his confidence, leaning into the kiss and trying his best not to smile through it.
Guildias counted the gathering for a second time. Despite rumors circulating around the owner, the pub was still near max capacity. He pulled his phone from pocket, wanting to know how far away the druid was and to inform him of the pianist.
Luke/Ronan: Luke is sat on the lid of the toilet, head resting on the side of the cubicle. It feels like a good, safe place to be. Hidden away in there. At least for a little while. Breathing had subsided anger into sadness. No amount of oxygen will change his situation or fix his broken heart.
"You wanna drink, baby?" he whispers between kisses, "Jus' a bit so that we can drink together?" Meaning that if he gets drunk, you have to as well. As eyes slowly open they recognise a man- one he had sworn to punch the moment he saw. "Matheus-- Fletcher." His head tilts in the direction. It would be no fun to punch him where Luke couldn't see. Where had the dumb prick gotten to, anyway?
Callum: "I'm walkin' through the door," Callum said into his phone as he did just that. He looked a little windswept, coat only half on and carrying his guitar in one hand, a bag in the other, and cradling his phone between his ear and his shoulder. "Where are--there you are!"
He went over to his husband, calling greetings to people along the way.
Fletcher/Guildias/Matheus: “Someone glue your ass t’the lid, Luke?” It was supposed to be funny, but Fletcher wasn’t so much as smiling. At least in the bathroom he didn’t have to look at nor think about Peter Graham.
Matheus turned his attention to the window, his back to the majority of kine as Ronan’s hand was brought closer to his mouth. “You’re determined to get me drunk, aren’t you?” he whispered, biting playfully at his finger. He didn’t bother to look at this man named Fletcher. “Is he more important than this?” A single fang sank into the pad of his index finger, causing Ronan to bleed.
First priority, stealing a kiss from his husband. Second was to grab his ass. No one would be able to see it with the exception of June and Peter. “Might have a partner tonight on stage.”
Luke/Ronan: The sound of Fletcher's voice has Luke straightening, breathing in and rubbing his face. He doesn't unlock the door, though he does stand. He- doesn't really know how to respond to that. "N-no, Fletcher. Are you alright?"
Yes, indeed he was determined. The small flame inside of him that was ready to pounce to be violent is extinguished when Matheus takes his finger into his mouth. The reaper laughs quietly and hums-- but there's a small gasp that comes when he's bitten into. "Mmm. Maybe he could be. You should keep tryna convince me though. It might work." Oh, it's already worked. He just wants so much more.
Callum/Pete: Callum hummed into the kiss, feeling himself relax. It had been a hell of a stressful day. "Oh yeah?" he said, setting his things down inside just inside the little hall that led to the back door and the staircase to Pete's office. "Who?"
He gave his best friend a one-armed hug in greeting, relaxing a little more when Pete gave him a tired, half-smile. That usually would've been cause for concern, but just now he knew it was the best Pete was capable of.
Fletcher/Guildias/Matheus: “I’ll live, old man. Just…” Not his problem, so, “Don’t worry ‘bout it. You though…” Fletcher licked his lips. “Ya don’t seem the type t’just hide in a bathroom, or maybe I just got ya pegged wrong.”
“You should stay with me.” As Ronan’s index finger healed it was kissed again, followed by another bite. This time with both fangs.
Perhaps Callum could convince Peter to leave. As he was determined to stay, the druid might encourage it. It was hard to tell sometimes.
“All you really need to know is Ronan’s acquainted with him. Should be fun, hmm? And we’re not to judge someone based on association.” Playing to Callum’s ideologies while caresses ascended from his ass to the back of his neck. “He’ll be back and you can inquire for yourself.”
Luke/Ronan: That doesn't sound good. Luke rests his forehead against the door. "It feels like the best place to be right now." He could tell Fletcher that Ronan was out there, but what would be the point? He didn't believe Ronan would actually harm him. Luke had more faith in Ronan than to believe his threats. "I'm... sorry that I dragged you here, but you can go home. I think I've changed my mind about performing. It... nobody will really like it, anyway." By 'it' he means himself.
As Matheus bites his cheek is kissed and jaw is nuzzled. "You should be careful," he whispers, "don't want me t'start moanin' an' gettin' hard right here an' now, do you?"
Callum: "An acquaintance of Ronan's?" Really? Really? Ronan hadn't caused him enough grief already? Now he had to make nice with the reaper's friends at his standing weekend gig?
When it rained it bloody poured.
"I reserve the right to judge him until I hear him play."
Fletcher/Guildias/Matheus: “Why would a bathroom be the best place right now?” Because of Ronan? Really? He did have a penchant for flaming dramatics, but he was also preoccupied with a vampire. Doubtful he would be an immediate problem tonight.
Zeroing in on Luke’s stall, Fletcher raised his hand, resting it on the top of the door. If Luke wanted to take it… “I’d like it. Peter would…would like it. June would like it.” Fingers gently wriggled. Come on, angel.
“Well, that settles that, then.” Callum was rewarded with a kiss. Rewards for keeping collected.
“No,” said Matheus. “We wouldn’t want that. Heaven forbid.” Delicious vitae with a hint of vodka. “Shall I pour you some more?”
Luke/Ronan: How does one describe that they feel at best somewhere hidden away purely because by hiding themselves, they are also hiding all of their insecurities? "It's safe," he whispers, can Fletcher even hear that through the door? He doesn't care too much. The sudden appearance of a hand makes Luke step back, looking up at it. Deeper breaths and fingers raise, gently brushing Fletcher's hand with a thumb. Silly. The door is unlocked and slowly pushed open, his hand lowering. "What if I'm not any good?"
Ronan licks his lips, "Mmm, pour me loads more, baby." And then he mumbles, "Keep goin' 'till I pass the fuck out." The idea that he's about to hear Luke sing plays on the back of his mind. It is Ronan's older brother who taught Luke how to play the piano. He can recall day after day watching and listening to his two favourite people sing for him. He can recall Luke singing him to sleep on restless nights. He can recall sneaking into the church to listen to Luke with the choir and letting it calm his messy soul. This? This is different. He didn't know what to expect. He didn't know what it was going to do to him.
June/Callum: Guildias, in turn, was rewarded with a million-dollar smile. Why let Ronan ruin his mood? "Aye, indeed it does." Have another kiss just because.
Callum turned to June, as Pete was down at the other end of the bar. "Am I goin' first or is he?"
"I don't know. He's in the bathroom right now but I think he's still finalizing his set list." June gave a worried glance toward the door. They'd been in there a long time.
She pulled out her phone. Best see what was going on.
Fletcher/Guildias/Matheus: Fletcher moved out of the way and smiled triumphantly. “I call bullshit, because I’ve heard you sing, angel. I know what ya sound like and people are gonna love it. This place needs someone like ya. Callum might like ya, too. He’s the closest thing to an angel ‘round here, anyway. I mean, minus his taste in men.”
A glance to his phone, and he smiled again, biting it back as he offered Luke the phone. “Ya’ve made a friend.” Eleven days. The number was important.
“Something better than shots,” Matheus affirmed. The tray Rita had left, the tray Guildias had set up, was perfect. Two glasses and two bottles. One glass was turned over and filled halfway with vodka. As the other was turned it was stolen. A glare was given to Guildias as he walked away with the glass and his bottle of Chartreuse.
“I’ll return shortly.”
Luke/Ronan: That smile makes Luke bashful, his own being faint and hesitant. Fletcher is too sweet. He's much too hard on himself. He deserves so much more. The phone is taken carefully and he reads the messages, nodding. "We should... go back out there." Not that Luke is at all ready. Before they're no longer alone Luke steps closer and dips, pressing a gentle kiss to Fletcher's forehead. "Thank you, Fletcher. Once again, I'd be in a terrible state without you." The phone is offered back.
Better than shots, hm? Well, that has Ronan intrigued. His smile is prominent until Guildias comes over. Then, Matheus' hand is squeezed and kissed. "It's alright, baby, we can make do with this, yeah?"
June/Callum: June sent Callum to go set up while she sent Fletcher another message. She was really starting to worry about the pair of them, which was the last thing she needed.
There was enough to worry about already, she thought, glancing over at Pete.
[Text]: I told Callum to go set up
[Text]: Does Luke want to go before or after him?
Fletcher/Matheus: “The hell didja ever do without me, man?” He felt like shit, but here he was trying to cheer up a reaper, of all things, in a pub full of strange creatures. Was he a goddamn doormat or just that benevolent? This couldn’t possibly be a crush. The source of all of his pain was just in the other room.
“No need for two when you’re the only one that can drink,” Matheus smiled. He really wasn’t offended by anything but Guildias’ presence. “This is just fine.” He was having to adhere to the Masquerade, so why not utilize it? He sniffed Ronan’s drink and made a face. “Is that paint thinner?” He looked the bottle over with disgust. “How does that taste?”
Rather than answer his phone, Fletcher followed behind Luke, making a point to look everywhere but Peter Graham. That was proving difficult.
Luke/Ronan: Well, before he had met Fletcher he also hadn't found Ronan again. The only reason, Luke believed, he needed the support was because of Ronan. It will take some time for this wound to heal. "Heaven knows." He leaves the bathroom, glancing back at Fletcher with concern and returning to June with a smile. "I think I've prepared a list but I haven't written it down, would you like me to?"
Ronan laughs, nudging his vampire playfully. "It ain’t about the taste, Matheus. If it was I'd be drinkin' some fruity number. It's about the percentage of alcohol in each sip. The higher the better, the higher the more gross it is."
June/Pete: June heaved an internal sigh of relief. Whatever else was going on, at least Luke seemed to be all right.
"I think it should be all right if you just tell Pete what you want to play. One sec." She went down to the other end of the bar to fetch her boss.
Pete would've rather set himself on fire than have to pretend to be okay around Fletcher, but he had a job to do. He had to be professional. "What songs did you have in mind?" he asked Luke, forcing a smile.
Fletcher/Guildias/Matheus: Fletcher knew better than to linger. He was oh so slowly sidestepping away from the situation, abandoning Luke to his discussion with Peter. He was trying to be subtle, but soon the reaper was on his own again, and the Samsa had retreated to his favorite seat.
Guildias was behind the stage, pouring himself a glass while Callum situated himself. "Aside from a certain demon, have you ever played with other people?"
"Fruity, hmm?" Matheus stood. "I'm going to get you the most ridiculous drink ever created."
Luke/Ronan: Of course Luke notices Fletcher edging away, it had been his presence that he was counting on. But he survives without. The list is a compilation of songs, an Adele or two, some quite unknown ones, Elvis was also in the mix, he tried to keep things as modern and well-known as possible. There was a song or two he hoped would be fun. La Vie En Rose was the last to be mentioned.
"Waaaaaaaaait." Matheus' wrist is held. "You're gonna leave me here all alone? What if a rich man comes up t'me an' wants to give me money in exchange for a kiss? I'd probably say yes."
Callum/Pete: Even though Adele was the last thing he wanted to hear, Pete nodded, approving Luke's set list. After all, this was about what his patrons wanted to hear; not what he wanted to hear.
"Sounds good, man. Do you wanna go on before or after Callum?"
Callum nodded as he tuned his guitar. "No' often, but aye. A couple years ago this Irish folk band was livin' in one o' the rentals near the beach. Played with them pretty much ev'ry week they were here."
Fletcher/Guildias/Matheus: “From what I know of this town, you’d be sooner snatched by a rich old woman. All the desirable men are taken.”
Between all of the conversations around him, Fletcher was busy downing his glass in a single breath. He needed a lot of these tonight.
“I wish I could have seen that. You play well with others.” The vampire chuckled. “Sounds childish, doesn’t it?”
Luke/Ronan: That's a relief. He glances toward Fletcher. "Before, if that's possible." To get it over and done with, and to allow Callum to restore the atmosphere if he were to ruin it.
"That includes you." As if that's a reminder. "Be back quick?" His wrist is tugged. Another kiss, please.
June/Callum/Pete: "You got it," said Pete. "June will show you to the little backstage area. She can help you with the piano if you want."
June's smile was far more genuine. "Come on, Luke."
Callum just smiled. "Why thank you, husband. I try my best." With his guitar ready to go, now seemed like a good time to lay claim to his vampire's lap and kiss him. "What would you like to hear me play tonight?"
Fletcher/Guildias/Matheus: He would have two little kisses and a nuzzle. “Be back in just a moment.” As if that’s a reminder, too. There were two drinks he had seen online before coming here. One of those was going to end up in Ronan’s hand. He was looking forward to this. It was between the Pink Passion or the Pink Raspberry Cosmo. Perhaps both.
Fletcher wanted to follow June and Luke, because now he was trapped with Peter in his sights. His beer was empty. The deputy was too close. It was all too much.
Callum wanted his lap? Of course he could have it, so long as he understood hands were going to rest on his ass.
“What was that little song you were singing the other day in the shop?”
Luke/Ronan: "Alright, thank you." He walks with June, rubbing his hands together in an attempt to quieten his nerves. He isn't usually anxious, but this crowd wasn't like any crowd he's sung to before.
"Mm. Okay." Matheus is watched as he walks away and Ronan exhales the second he's completely alone. He looks around. The only people missing were Tristan and Salt. Bring them in and everyone and their mother is here to witness whatever train wreck Ronan was sure was going to happen. There isn't a moment of peace in Edenton, he's just waiting for the climax.
June/Pete: Never fear, Fletcher. Rita had just enough time before her smoke break to replenish your beer, and Peabody's too.
All that was left to contend with was the train wreck that was Pete.
That was just fine by Callum; as long as his husband's hands were on him, he was happy. "Um....Fiddler's Green maybe? Or Whiskey in the Jar?"
"You'll be fine, sugar," June was saying to Luke. She waved to Callum and Guildias as she led the way to the piano. "This crowd's easy. Callum's gotten them used to lots of different kinds of music over the years.
Fletcher/Guildias/Matheus: If he could just focus on his beer, he would be fine. Focus on the beer, not on Peter Graham and his hands, his eyes, his lips. Don’t try to read his expression and catch his eyes. The beer was a beautiful golden color and should be nursed.
“Ah, Whiskey in the Jar. As much as I love keeping that to myself, it should be shared.” Guildias turned his attention to the human and reaper, nodding in acknowledgement. “Hello again.” Pay no attention to the other hand. Pay no attention to the kiss.
Matheus returned minutes later with a variety of pink shaded drinks. “Voila.”
Luke/Ronan: "Ah, I hope so. Thank you." Playing for strangers is much easier than this. He feels slightly guilty for leaving Fletcher, as if he should have stayed by his side, but it was Fletcher who had moved away and convinced Luke to play. He just needed to focus on playing.
Ronan smiles up at Matheus. "You're fuckin' nuts." He laughs, easily moving closer to lean against Matheus' chest. "You tryna get me drunk so I'll have sex with you, hm?"
June/Callum/Pete: Fletcher wasn't the only person trying to force himself to focus on things rather than a certain someone. Just now Pete was really wishing June would come back. Or Rita. Or Callum. Anyone.
He needed a buffer between him and Fletcher's end of the bar. Without one, he'd talk himself into looking at Fletcher and he just couldn't do that. He'd be exposing them both to more gossip and for all he knew, Fletcher despised him now and wouldn't talk to him anyway.
Callum gave June and the other musician a wave but didn't get up to greet. There would be time for that later on. For now all he wanted to do was kiss his beautiful husband. "Whiskey in the Jar it is. I'll play a whole Irish medley tonight."
"No problem. Here's the piano." June pulled the protective sheet off, stepped back so Luke could admire it. It wasn't much, but it was tuned to perfection and was lovingly cared for.
Fletcher/Guildias/Matheus: "No alcohol in the world can compare to simply asking you," said Matheus. "But as we're on the subject, do you enjoy drunk sex? Things I should know now." Boundaries to set in place. While Matheus didn't mind, it seemed like something that would concern his reaper, given his history.
"You should go play social with the new kids in the playground." Guildias should have learned his lesson from Mason Atlas, but he couldn't help himself. Music was a weakness when the source was his husband. Any excuse to hear him play in any manner was valid.
And Fletcher, in the hopes of ignoring Peter Graham completely, turned on the subtitles to his Netflix and began to watch a cartoon.
Luke/Ronan: Good question, Matheus. "I dunno," he laughs, picking up one of the strange drinks and scrutinising. "Maybe. With you... probably." Hesitantly, he takes a sip of the drunk and scrunches up his face. "Holy shit. This shit tastes way better, it's like- fuckin'-- it barely even tastes like alcohol."
Despite not knowing who they were waving at and who was waving at them, Luke smiles and allows a shy hand to briefly raise. The piano is enough to make Luke smile. He runs his fingers along the frame and gently tests a few keys. "It's lovely." he smiles sweetly at June and laughs out of nerves, "I'm trying to not be anxious, I've sang in front of people a million times... it feels different tonight, knowing who's watching."
June/Callum: "I can go play social later," said Callum, pulling Guildias into another kiss. "I haven't seen you allllllllll day and the day sucked." Kiss, kiss, kiss. "I need to refuel."
June couldn't help but smile back at that lovely, sweet face. Whatever he played, everyone was bound to love it. How could they not?
"You're going to be great," she assured him, giving his arm a squeeze. "And Fletcher is going to love seeing you up there. Everything's gonna go well, you'll see."
Fletcher/Guildias/Matheus: "Isn't it though?" he laughed. "Something that doesn't stink of paint thinner." Maybe, probably. Not assured words. They would just have to see where the night took them.
"To think I might not have seen you today." Have all the kisses you want, Callum. The Setite needed them just as much. After such intense conversations with Ronan, a little lightheartedness could do them both good. "So, I suppose you want him to go first, stay in my lap during his performance? In fact, let's not move a muscle from now until he's finished."
Fletcher would love the distraction right about now, because he was peeking over his phone, leaned up against his beer, to stare and pine for someone he couldn't have.
Luke/Ronan: Luke's smile is warm and June's hand is once again taken and kissed. "Thank you. Best to get up there now, hm? I'm sure I'll feel better once I start."
Matheus' cheek is kissed through laughter, "I think I should dye my hair this colour." The cup is carefully raised and head by his face, "What d'you think? Pink hair?"
June/Callum: "That's the best idea I've heard all day," Callum murmured, smiling as he settled in and made himself comfortable in his husband's embrace.
Speaking of lightheartedness, Callum shuddered dramatically. "Truly a terrifyin' thought. Just imagine havin' to go an entire day without each other. We'd probably burst into flames out o' sadness. Jolly Roger and Prospero would be orphans. They'd have to eat garbage and live in the woods without their da's to take care of them!" Yes, he's being very silly and dramatic. Just go with it, Guildias.
The hand kiss filled June with warm fuzzies; she'd never get tired of it. "No time like the present. Want some help rolling the piano onto the stage?"
Guildias/Matheus: "Pink? No. And not yellow, either." Temple rested on hand, elbow to table. "Perhaps green or blue. Something to complement your eyes."
Guildias just smiled through Callum's act. "You should have been another type of performer. You have a penchant for such dramatics. The fact that you can lament in rain or snow of your creation doesn't help your image, either."
Luke/Ronan: Ronan shuffles closer, a hand easily slips around Matheus' thigh. "What about blue?"
Though he may not look it, Luke could pick up and carry the piano without any strain. But there's no need for that. "No, thank you. I'll manage. Could you help me with the positioning of it, though?" Hands grasp the piano and he starts to wheel it out, careful of his surroundings.
June/Callum: Callum laughed. "I'd put all the other performers out o' work. I mean, I can sing and play the guitar and the bagpipes and I can make it rain and put on a show like the scene in the Wizard of Oz when the witch melted. All I need is a faintin' couch."
"Sure thing, sugar." June guided Luke as he moved the piano, getting things out of his way and helping him maneuver obstacles as necessary.
"So you want to be right in the middle of the stage or off to the side a little?" she asked, moving a microphone stand.
Fletcher/Guildias/Matheus: “As a streak, here,” around his brow, “that would look good. I don’t see you going full blueberry, though.” Matheus hadn’t dare to imagine a scenario like this. Together in a bar with fruity cocktails and discussion of hair; there were smiles and kisses, gentle petting and all without carnage. No arguments of assassination plots or politics, no debates between the divergence of cultural ethics and between species. With the exception of Ronan’s proclivity for drink, they could pass as an average charming couple. Human.
As soon as Luke’s distinct white head emerged from behind the stage, Ronan was pulled into a gentle kiss, forehead-to-forehead, he was breathed in again. “Hey. I love you.” Focus on me, on the drinks. On the blueberry hair. Don’t let it win.
Fletcher, on the other hand, had enough of an excuse to put his phone away, abandon his empty glass, and do what he had never done before. He took a seat front and center in the closest chair to the stage. It hurt like fucking Hell, it felt disrespectful to not even look Peter in the eyes, but it felt like Peter wanted to avoid him at all costs. The least he could do was obey.
“Despite having a bad day, you do seem in a strangely good mood, husband.” Guildias looked him over, feigning concern. “What’s wrong with you? Where is my druid?”
Luke/Ronan: Ronan's smile at that is soft. Maybe he should actually dye his hair. It could be fun. All thoughts on this die when he sees Luke bringing out the piano, guided by June to not cause any accidents. The reaper sighs and shakes his head, holding onto Matheus' shoulder. "I love you too." Dammit. He takes some more kisses.
"Hmm... perhaps slightly off to the side?" His looking around is paused by the sight of Fletcher, who receives a smile. Once the piano is placed a hand settles on June's arm, "Thank you, again."
June/Callum/Pete: Even with Fletcher several feet away, Pete still couldn't relax. He still wanted to run, or at the very least hide. But retreating to his office wasn't really an option.
In fact, these days he didn't go up there at all during business hours. He was...afraid to. When he really needed a break he went backstage or into the kitchen but the office...he couldn't. And seeking comfort and a little bit of love from Fletcher? Surely that was out of the question.
All he could do was count the hours until he could go home and try to spend them as quietly as possible.
"You're very welcome," said June, giving his hand a pat. "And don't be nervous, all right? Everything's gonna be great." She hopped off the stage and moved over to Fletcher's table, leaving Luke to get situated. "Hey, you. Want another beer?"
Callum just continued grinning like a loon. "Why he's right here, husband o' mine. Bein' with you has restored his spirits." He kissed his vampire. "Ye're magical that way."
Fletcher/Guildias/Matheus: Matheus understood that he couldn’t solve all of Ronan’s problems with attention and affection, but he was going to be the best pillar possible, which was all he could be. So Ronan could take as many kisses as he wanted and his fiancé wouldn’t complain. Nothing but nuzzles and mirrored tenderness.
“Yeah,” said Fletcher. “Can ya do somethin’ for me, though? Casually, if ya can. Can ya ask Peter for my…my usual? And he can give it to me.” Not speaking, avoiding, blatant awkward silence was only going to fuel rumors. It was nobody’s fucking business. If this was the end, then they needed to get over it. He couldn’t sit in his corner with his phone playing Netflix and cower for the rest of his limited days in Edenton. How was that mature? Certainly, Luke deserved better than his behavior minutes before.
“So,” kiss, “if we’re going to stay back here during the performance, how far am I allowed to go? Heavy petting? Making out? More? Whisper it in my ear and I will grant your wish. I am but your servant, husband.”
Luke/Ronan: Though Ronan moves his mouth away to sip (finish in gulps) his drink he still remains close. Hands hold onto Matheus once his empty cup is set down. "You're not gonna hurt me too, are you?"
Luke adjusts himself and gets comfortable. His gaze settles on Fletcher and then moves across the room to find Ronan. He isn't even paying attention. He takes a deep breath. "Um- hi, everyone." Ronan's attention averts. "I'm Luke, I'll be opening for you tonight. I'd like to quickly thank June and Fletcher for encouraging me and supporting me... and I hope you all enjoy."
June/Callum/Pete: June's eyes lit with what might have been hope at Fletcher's request, and though she wanted to smile and thank the good lord that he didn't hate Pete's guts and wanted to make some kind of overture, all she did was nod. Being casual was best, lest the parties involved feel pressured.
"I sure can," she said softly, bending to kiss his cheek before moving off to the bar. "I need a refill, Pete."
He looked over. "Of?"
"Fletcher wants his usual."
Pete blinked. "A Miller or...his usual usual?"
"His usual usual. I'm gonna take my fifteen to watch Luke. Fletcher's down at the table in front of the stage, okay?"
"Wait, but--"
A quick peck to his cheek and she was off before he could finish his protest.
Callum hummed in consideration, mapping out Guildias' features via teeny tiny kisses. "Makin' out," he murmured when he reached his husband's ear. "Aaaaand....medium pettin'. Heavy pettin' is far too distractin' for me to sing properly later."
Half the bar's attention had shifted to the stage while the newcomer set up, but once he introduced himself the other half quickly joined, interested to see what he had.
Fletcher/Guildias/Matheus: "Do you really have to ask that of me, Ronan? Do you think I'd ever hurt you on purpose? Not talking about in the bedroom, what you ask for. I'm asking about everything else. You think I would do something like that?" He could keep a conversation going despite Luke's introduction. This was a pub; the music was just background to him.
Fletcher was surprised for his mention, withholding the urge to glance around the room, of any eyes that might fall upon him in such a central position. Fuck em. He had to remain focused on the reason he was here.
"Medium. Whatever is that?" he teased. "Is that...this?" Hands founds their way to Callum's belt, undoing it and the buttons to his jeans. "Letting me feel your ass in my hands?"
Luke/Ronan: "I never thought Luke would hurt me, I never thought Guildias would... I never thought-" Ronan exhales and closes his eyes just long enough for him to collect himself. "I'm jus' scared." Speaking of the devil- where is Guildias? Green eyes search for him but don't see him. Callum must've come and stolen him away. He holds tighter onto Matheus.
Luke prepares himself and clears his throat. "This song is called 'What You Stole'." a deep breath and one last glance at Fletcher for confidence before he begins. The moment the sound of the piano meets his ears he can imagine he's somewhere else. When he starts to sing all the nerves fade, he can immerse himself, and it satisfies his need to escape perfectly. Luke's voice as Goosebumps raising on Ronan's skin. He slinks closer to Matheus as he feels his heart quicken.
Callum/Pete: Pete pulled Fletcher's mixed beer from the tap, feeling for all the world like a teenage girl with the questions running through his head:
What did this mean? Did Fletcher just want a mixed beer or did he want it because of what it represented? Did he not hate him? Did he still like him, and if he did, how much did he still like him?
He sighed as he set the glass on a tray. He was annoying the hell out of himself. There wouldn't be answers to any of these questions if he never actually brought Fletcher the beer.
Here goes nothing, he thought, only shaking a little as he made his way to Fletcher's table.
Callum hummed again, giving Guildias a wicked little grin. "Aye, and that's yer lot." He shifted so he was straddling his husband. "Keep those hands right there, no movin' them to scandalous places."
Fletcher/Guildias/Matheus: How could Ronan not think that of Guildias? From night one, looking at a stranger, he never considered the serpent as dangerous? It just blew the Malkavian's mind. It had been years ago, a better time. He'd been fond of the Setite, but even he was cautious. How? Just how? And he couldn't ask this. As much as he wanted to, he would wait. Not with another reaper singing in the background.
"You have the power to kill me," he whispered. "I give my life to your hands. I gave them nights before, when I vowed myself to you. If your fear is ever warranted then you take my ring and put me outside. You won't have to, though. Luke, Guildias...I'm not them. You understand that, yes?"
Fletcher was trying to watch two places at once, a singer and a bartender. New and familiar. He certainly couldn't consider Peter as "old" when they had barely begun. Old news was what people called those forgettable.
"Hey, Peter." His glass was nursed between both hands. "Thanks for lettin' him play." He had to force his eyes up, force them to lock with his ex-lover.
Hands cupped Callum's ass and his eyes closed. The music had started and then he had remembered his second reason for being here. There was Callum and there was Ronan. "I think that singer - I don't think, I know - is someone important to Ronan. I'm wondering if Matheus can keep him calm." A soft, loving kiss was given to the druid's lips. "I can't stand their relationship. I can't stand it, but they..." He smiled. "He's not throwing furniture anymore. I feel obligated to help keep it that way."
Ronan: Luke's voice brings back too many memories. The lyrics only make the blow hurt more. Then Matheus, lovely, sweet Matheus, he's making it worse. He didn't want to be reminded about killing his fiancé, or Guildias, or Luke- who was making himself pretty fucking hard to ignore. "Yes." But what does that even mean? Luke had never hurt Ronan on purpose, had he? Guildias... he was always trying to make Ronan happy, too. So what does that mean? Matheus will never be restricted like Guildias and Luke? Neither had chosen to hurt him, they just did. Matheus couldn't promise to never be inconvenienced by life in such a way that it upsets Ronan. He couldn't promise that every second of his life would be spent fighting away whatever could possibly harm their relationship. That isn't possible and it isn't fair. Tears are past the point where they're merely forming, they've slipped down his cheeks and Ronan's arms are too limp to brush them away. "Stop it."
Callum/Pete: "Hey yourself," Pete said softly, willing his hands to be steady as he set the beer down. He could feel people looking at him; he forced himself not to care.
"No thanks needed. He's proving it was a solid decision, he's got a great voice."
The kiss was returned, as was the smile, but it had dimmed just a tiny bit. "I'm happy that ye're happy for Ronan's improvement, love, but can we please no' talk about him right now? Or Matheus? Or the singer or anythin'?" Callum brushed a rogue strand of hair away from Guildias' face.
"I just...want to be here with my husband. I don't want to think about anythin' or anyone else. I want it to be just us for a little while before I have to go play. Be here with me. Please?"
Fletcher/Guildias/Matheus: Guildias was trying in his most subtle manner to say he wanted to get up, fix Callum's jeans, and cross the sea of kine to rescue a reaper. Some part of him believed his husband would sympathize, but given the scar still visible on his wrist, that was a miscalculation. For a vampire whose existence was founded on corruption, he should have known better. Ronan's actions still lingered as blatantly as the mark he had left.
So Guildias smiled politely, as he often did when refusing to further a subject, and nuzzled.
"We don't have to stay. You coming here was brave enough. It's a great start. We can walk home now, or just walk. It doesn't matter." His hand was gentle, but nothing about his fingers brushing away those tears were timid. It was as confident as the kiss to his forehead.
Those words could have been for himself or for Luke. As much as he prided himself in the understanding of a human mind, in instinctively knowing a lie, in knowing what every shade meant in Ronan's aura, right now he couldn't decipher every detail and it distressed him.
"He's been stayin' with me," said Fletcher. "Can't have him wastin' money in a hotel. Plays cashier in my shop sometimes, too." Another glance up. "That okay?" Read into that, Peter.
Ronan: Ronan takes a deep breath. "No, we do have t'stay." The hands and the kiss were appreciated. Ronan leaned into it all. "He got killed 'cause of me. I owed people money I was normally solid on but I died an' they found Luke. They shot him in the head. 'Cause of me." Fuck. The reaper licks his lips. "I... I get you might not wanna hear jus' 'cause he loved me an' our history an' all that but... like, I mean you're my best friend, not jus' fiancé y'know?"
Callum/Pete: "O-oh." June had mentioned that Fletcher and Luke were friends, but Pete had no idea they were already that close and for some reason it hurt and made him more jealous than he'd ever admit. "Well that's..." He cleared his throat and made himself smile. It fell far short of the intention. "That's generous of you, giving him somewhere to work and stay. He seems really nice."
Pete could only hold Fletcher's gaze for a few moments before he had to look down at his shoes. Fletcher would be able to see his hurt if he looked at him too long. And if he saw it, he'd probably tell him he had no right to feel it, like MJ had.
"It's your home," he said softly. "You're free to offer it to whoever you like."
Callum visibly relaxed, smile returning full force as he nuzzled his husband back and wrapped his arms around him, holding tight. It really had been a vicious bloody bitch of a day, and he'd spent hours looking forward to not only some quiet, but quiet with Guildias.
"I feel like someone who just got a cold drink o' water after bein' stranded in the desert for years," he said after a while, kissing the underside of Guildias' jaw.
Fletcher/Guildias/Matheus: “He is nice. He’s a nice old man that’s way, way older than he looks, and this is just me bein’…reckless. The more I help people the more I get noticed. Ain’t it?” That miller mix never tasted so good. “Ain’t that supposed t’be “whomever”? I dunno. Hits the ear wrong.” Fletcher laughed at his own half-hearted teasing. “Does it bother ya?”
Matheus now had a new question in queue. How long did it take Ronan from his first death to rise up like some unorthodox phoenix?
“I understand. An obligation towards a friend you feel you’ve wronged. Someone that cared for you. You love him, too.” Not romantically, but if Ronan said there was nothing…his fiancé would now a spoken lie. “I don’t think the boy you spoke of, regard so highly, would want to see you upset.” Never before had Matheus been regarded by a spouse as a best friend. It wasn’t yet official, but the warmth in his chest wasn’t a stickler for the details.
“A wedding couldn’t have been that horrific,” purred his husband. “My poor husband. Does he need a little love bite before his performance?”
Luke/Ronan: Ronan leans into his beautiful fiancé, feeling much too overwhelmed by this Godforsaken place. "Then he shouldn't be singin'." Luke may have arranged this before Ronan's entrance, but he should've changed his mind. "My brother taught him how t'play piano. Jus' the sound of it... I can hear him. I can hear Sean teachin' Luke, an' them singin', an'... I've lost so much, Matheus. Luke is jus' a reminder of everythin' I've lost, of everythin' that went wrong in my life." He looks up at the vampire, "Things are only good now because of you. I'm so scared t'lose you. I love you so much. You make my heart so weak." Ronan feels as though none of that had made sense- none of it connected with the previous statement, it was just a string of incoherent thoughts that came spewing out of him as Luke finishes the song and smiles, thanking everyone, before stating that the next song is an Adele, 'One and Only'.
Callum/Pete: "Kindness is never reckless," Pete said quietly. He was growing to appreciate kindness in people more and more, because for every rude gossip in this town there was someone who treated him the same as always and went out of their way to be nice, whether it was Laura giving him an extra cookie or Mrs. Pennyapple inviting him over for tea.
The teasing got a little genuine brightness from his smile. "It shouldn't. I have no right to feel bothered by it."
"The weddin' itself was fine. Havin' to fix ten million arrangements and centerpieces and havin' the bride screechin' in my ear because the wind I couldn't control was messin' them up was no' fine. Neither was the mother-in-law takin' it as a sign from god that her son shouldn't be marryin' 'that girl' and sharin' this theory with ev'ryone who would listen at great length and with great volume."
Callum lifted his head, giving Guildias a little purr of his own as he leaned in to kiss him. "He might just."
Fletcher/Guildias/Matheus: That was a lot for Matheus to take in. It might have appeared incoherent on the surface, but the Malkavian knew better. With Ronan, even the random wasn’t so chaotic.
“Weak isn’t the sensation you should have with someone you’re in love with.” Those hands were cradled again. “That doesn’t work for you at all, hearing your brother continuing on through someone else that also loves you?” A dangerous question, one that could send Ronan to tears or in a sudden fit. His grip tightened, but not enough to cut circulation. “You were wrong about Luke. He was still here. All these years and he existed. This dark world is fully of possibilities. Perhaps he isn’t the only one. Perhaps you can find a way to speak to the others you love and lost.” The vampire would have pointed out Ronan’s species, stating how obvious it should be, but he refrained. From what he was able to grasp, much like demons, there were variations, and this wasn’t Ronan’s forte.
Fletcher’s attention returned to the stage, applauding with the bulk of the crowd as Luke continued on. Oftentimes applause was held until the end of the artist’s performance, such as Callum’s, but this was someone new, and new blood always received special treatment.
“M’not askin’ for your rights. I know your rights and what ya ain’t got with me.” His gaze refused to leave the singer. “S’not what I asked.”
The kiss was accepted with gusto, humming with approval as nails softly dug into Callum’s skin. “If that tale is in your opinion a “fine wedding” then I shudder to think what a disaster would be.” Another kiss, this time to the druid’s jaw. “Someone setting fire to the wedding dress. Something like The Graduate, maybe.”
Ronan: Matheus' hold on his hands make Ronan bashful, he turns his head away and smiles shyly, just catching Luke's faint blush at the applause. Luke continues with a smile until the emotions of the song seep into his heart. The lyrics held meaning, there's no doubt about that.
"It's a good kind of weak," he whispers, "the kind of weak that lets me be honest with you." the kind of weak that is vulnerable out of trust. "I miss my brothers." When he said this, the young twins didn't really count. They kept to their own, there or not Ronan never noticed, that's why little Ava never got any recognition as the only girl left after the death of their mother. "What? You think they're immortal too? Jus'-- the chances of that are, like, zero. Luke is jus' a coincidence. A fucked up coincidence."
Callum/Pete: Pete took a tiny bit of comfort in the fact that people weren't booing Luke off the stage. He really did have a great voice. And according to June he was so sweet he might as well be made of sugar.
Talented, sweet, generally nice, and worthy of Fletcher's kindness whereas Pete was loud, too emotional, had a bad temper, and was a generally terrible person. So of course...
"It bothers me a little." His voice was barely a whisper.
He laughed against Guildias' lips. "Well, the ceremony was fine since the mother-in-law locked herself in the bathroom for it. And the cake was good." Callum sighed contentedly, leaning even closer to encourage more kisses. "I've seen someone throw the bride into the river, does that count?"
Fletcher/Guildias/Matheus: “We can research, if that’s what you want. We can dig for spells or rituals and find out if they’re like Luke or if they’re gone from this world. Even still, establish a means of communication.” He should have kept his mouth shut. This wasn’t his forte, not in the least. This was something Gertrude Draegan could do with a flick of her masculine hand. It was because of Ronan’s bashful smile. He just wanted his fiancé to be healthy and satisfied.
“So, tell me what cha want me t’do ‘bout it. M’still…thinkin’ ‘bout leavin’.” Thinking, not actively searching anymore. His reason for leaving was Peter’s relationship with MJ, of the suffering it caused having to see it night after night. He was certain this was only a lapse in courage, because sooner or later Peter would have someone else and he would be miserable again. He needed to leave, just as Peter needed peace of mind.
“That is a tale you’ll have to recount to me sometime.” Those kisses were heading south, growing lewder with every inch. The subject had him reflective of his first and only wedding, of how it sickened his stomach, of how he had debated on abandoning it. Alexa had managed to tether him with a simple sexual gesture. She had been many things as a kine, and boring was never one of them.
Ronan: "... Yeah? You think that would work?" Ronan hesitates before he's hugging tightly onto Matheus' chest, hiding against him, squeezing his waist. It probably meant more to him than Matheus would realise. "I love you. I love you. Blue, baby. Blue." he could say it a million times. The reaper sniffles and nuzzles in closer. "I'm so lucky t'have you."
Callum/Pete: What was he supposed to say? He wasn't about to ask Fletcher to kick Luke out and fire him. Even on his darkest damn day (there had been a few of those) he wouldn't do that to someone. Definitely not to someone like Luke, who had no reason to pay for Pete's feelings and shitty life choices.
"There's no reason for you to leave anymore. He hates me, he's never coming back."
"Sometime later." Callum smiled to himself, doing whatever was necessary to give his husband unencumbered access to his skin. He should probably be doing something more productive like deciding on a set list, but what the hell. The affection from Guildias was worth it.
Hands found their way to his husband’s hair, tangling in it. "Much, much later."
Fletcher/Guildias/Matheus: Not a reaction Matheus would have banked on, but with those irresistible arms around his waist he was dissolved, holding his beloved in return and offering his own affection to those perpetually messy curls.
“A thousand I love yous,” he whispered into his hair, smiling. “I’m overwhelmed.”
For what Fletcher was about to say, he couldn’t continue his fixed gaze on Luke. They roamed the piano, the stage, the crowd. “Yeah, might be true, but I love you, Peter. Always. It’ll always be a problem.” Chin in hand, he looked the bartender in the eyes. “So, I’ll probably be pickin’ up my search when I know Luke’s got a solid place t’be.”
“If I bite you, do you promise to behave? Will you keep quiet?” Of course he wouldn’t be able to, but that was part of the allure. “Be good for me, Daisy, and cover your mouth.”
Ronan: Those arms encase him in such beautiful safety. He squeezes, breathing the vampire in and letting himself relax. The song moves him, but as much as Luke might mean it for Ronan, Ronan's mind relates it to his fiancé. "Good." he leans up for kisses, wanting to feel what stirs his heart so violently.
Callum/Pete: Pete's heart seized in his chest. He'd waited for those words for what seemed like eons, hoped and prayed for them in quiet moments when he didn't have to hide his feelings from anyone, and this was when the universe chose to them give to him.
When he was broken and publicly ridiculed and had some angel-looking guy who was better than him in every possible way singing in the background.
It was only fitting that Fletcher would follow it up by saying it was a problem.
"....So you're going to leave because you love me? I'm the reason I'm going to lose you?"
"I promise I'll be good. I'll be as quiet as a church mouse." Or, well, he'd try to be but he knew very well that good intentions were no guarantee. He'd never been able to be quiet when Guildias pleasured him, not even when they'd first met.
Still, he was going to steal one more kiss from his husband before covering his mouth and giving it his best shot.
Fletcher/Guildias/Matheus: Ronan was allowed as many kisses as he wanted. There would be no objections from his future husband, only a hum of approval and a smile disrupting the flow of their osculation.
“Peter, don’t do that.” His attention was forced back to the singer, but he couldn’t do it. He turned in his chair to face the bartender. “Ya know I ain’t good for ya,” he tried to whisper below the hum of the pub. “I ain’t good for ya, I ain’t for Luke, I ain’t even good for Marion. No one, Peter. Just ‘cause I love ya don’t mean we should be t’gether.
Oh, Guildias was going to enjoy this. Would Callum’s enthusiasm reach through the curtain and steal the attention from those in the front row? They were about to find out, as long and perfect fangs sank into flesh, attacking his husband’s carotid artery. This man belonged to him.
Luke/Ronan: "Hey, Matheus..." he whispers, "remember our little game?" Kisses fill up the gaps between his words, a hand guides Matheus' hand to coat his heartbeat. "Feed from me, from my chest." he wanted to see how Matheus would do it. Would he take them somewhere private? Would he ruin clothing? So many questions that needed answering.
Luke's gaze flickers to Fletcher, seeking a moment of that confidence again only to see him turned. His focus then lifts to Ronan. Was he even listening? As much as his emotions choked him and almost made his hands slip against the wrong keys he manages to save himself. Instead, his eyes search for June.
June/Callum/Pete: "Why not? I mean, at least Luke deserves you," he said with a small, humorless laugh. "I'm driving you away because you love me." That's what loving him did to people. It made them leave. And his love for them? It only hurt them.
"That's why people call me Mary Magdalene." This was said more to himself than to Fletcher. "I'm poison and they know it."
The second Luke's eyes landed on June, they would be greeted with a bright, encouraging smile. She was enjoying peoples' pleasantly surprised response to him almost as much as she was enjoying watching him play.
'Told you so,' she mouthed.
He had to bite his tongue and hold his breath, but Callum managed not to cry out loudly enough to be heard by the entire bar. That didn't mean he was able to stay completely silent either.
When Guildias' fangs had sunk in and he dared breathe again, it was in the form of a low, shuddering moan. And there would be more such sounds as long as his husband kept drinking from him, along with an awakening between his legs.
Fletcher/Guildias/Matheus: “Peter, you’re not listening t’me, dammit.” He wanted more than anything in this moment to be able to split into two. One man for Luke, to watch and support him, and the other to drag Peter’s ass outside and get their facts straight. “Don’t start this pity party shit. M’tellin’ ya that I ain’t good ‘nough and you’re translatin’ that into whatever the fuck ya wanna hear.”
Guildias had every intention of destroying his husband with arousal before releasing him disheveled and useless to the stage. Hands filled with purpose squeezed firm muscle, grinding Callum to his warmth and his firmness. Rather than drink in earnest, the Setite held to his lovely prey, having no qualms of his sexual torment. He would remain so long as the song played, and only as the song ended did he release, licking the wound closed and cleaning the stray trickle of blood.
“Medium petting, love?”
The Malkavian’s smile was a wicked. “I think you should excuse yourself and go to the restroom. I’ll follow you after a minute.” His kiss this time was excruciatingly slow and deliberate. There’s something I need to get first.”
Luke/Ronan: The kiss has him whining and the moment it's over Ronan shakes his head. "I can't. There's always mirrors in bathrooms." Curiosity has him snuggling closer. "What you got t'do, huh?"
June makes Luke smile and he gives her a little nod of appreciation. He feels the song once again and lets it take over him.
Callum/Pete: Was it still a pity party when he believed everything he was saying, despite how much the realization hurt him? Probably so. His mental state wasn't the best these days.
"You're the only one who thinks you aren't good enough." Though he spoke to Fletcher, Pete's eyes were now on Luke. "I do. He does. June does."
Meanwhile, Callum was putting every ounce of willpower into remaining as quiet-ish as possible. Guildias was only giving him a taste of the pleasure he usually gave him when he fed and it was driving Callum crazy. In all honesty he should probably be grateful that he wasn't going to have to hide his crotch all evening but instead he was groaning softly in sexually frustrated protest.
The only response given to Guildias' question was more groaning and rubbing against him.
Fletcher/Guildias/Matheus: “Ah, you’re right.” Can’t do that, then. But there was something. “I’ll show you. How about you meet me outside behind the bar? Those woods will do nicely. You’ll be my wolf, and I your huntsman.” There was no hiding the mischief from his mahogany eyes.
“My dear husband, you’re going to have to do better than that. These sounds, while lovely, cannot replace proper diction.” Guildias couldn’t have been happier unless Callum had made a mess of his jeans, heard by half of the pub.
“If I was ever good enough, Peter, ya woulda tried years ago, before MJ. List off every fuckin’ name ya’ve ever called me and then dare say that again.”
Luke/Ronan: Fingers brush against Matheus' cheek. He liked seeing Matheus wild, it made him feel trusted. It let him know that Matheus is willing to be himself. It filled Ronan with joy. "Okay baby." Any cups that may still have drink in it are finished quickly as he stands. Fingers run through Matheus' hair as the other wipes his mouth. One last kiss before he goes.
Callum/Pete: Pete's expression became pained. No matter how hard he wished it, he could never take back all those names. There was only one he was completely innocent of. "Years ago when you sincerely believed I'd called you horrible things and even before you thought that, you never wanted anything to do with me."
He took a shuddery breath. "I have no defense for all those names. I was angry and jealous and I took it out on you and I'll never be able to make it up to you."
Just for that, Callum was going to groan again. Proper diction would return only when he managed to get his hips and his near painful arousal under some degree of control.
At least he was no longer in danger of moaning and being heard by the entire bar.
Fletcher/Guildias/Matheus: Matheus smiled into the kiss and watched his lover saunter through the crowd to the door. What a beautiful body; what beautiful dark tangled curls and sharp bright eyes. Such a dangerous personality. As cliché as it was, the vampire could swear his heart was swelling.
The glasses and empty bottle were gathered onto the tray and carried back to the bar. Everyone was enraptured with the singer and he couldn’t blame them. Faultless yet still taken advantage of. The Malkavian reached over the counter for the paring knife nestled in a bowl of lemons. The drinks had been paid for, he imagined, seeing as Guildias had played host. Still, a tip and valuation was given for the borrowed knife. His heart had been set on an icepick, but the knife, while dull, would do nicely.
Time to hunt a reaper.
“What d’ya want from me, Peter? Ya gotta chance now better than any other time in your life t’tell me.” Though would he believe him? MJ was gone for a second time, and this time it was his fault. This time Peter would cry and those tears and his shattered relationship was his guilt to bear. He wanted to leave so why the fuck was he saying anything?
Eyes returned to Luke, plastered desperately, smile weak but presently true. He could juggle these emotions.
“I can’t wait for you to sing. I want it to be over so I can take you home. Just the two of us. Just the two of us and all of your lovely noises.” It still astounded Guildias to this day that he had nearly lost Callum MacGillivray to Ronan Archer. His heart would never deny the love he felt for the reaper, but this was something else entirely. He earnestly hoped from the bottom of his soul that what he felt for Callum was the same Matheus reflected to their dear âme damnée.
Luke/Ronan: From the corner of his eye movement makes Luke look up. He has to force himself not to pause- to not stare at Ronan's back. Insecurities and hesitation stick themselves against Luke's heart. He manages to not like it alter how he plays, but that look of sadness on his face is too obvious. He lowers his gaze to remain on his hands. Best to look somewhere safe. He can't keep looking to Fletcher or June for confidence, he has to find it within himself. He can't keep seeking their happiness for his own.
Ronan stands outside, eyes searching and waiting. He takes a seat on the ground. He may not be in there anymore, but he can still hear Luke's voice, he can still hear his brother’s piano, he can still feel it. As much as it makes him want to cry he forces himself not to. He didn't want to ruin the night, he wanted Matheus to enjoy himself. His fiancé has spent enough time drying his tears.
Callum/Pete: Pete took a deep breath, then another. He wouldn't cry--he just couldn't anymore, it took too much out of him--but more often than not he felt like an elephant was sitting on his chest, putting him in danger of having another breakdown.
"I want...for you not to think the worst of me. For you to smile at me and hug me until I don't feel like I'm going to shatter into a million pieces, until I feel real again."
Callum smiled at Guildias, wrapping his arms around his husband's neck again. "Soon, love. We just have to wait a couple o' wee hours and then we can go home." Guildias was kissed. "You don't have to share me with anyone, you get me all to yerself."
Fletcher/Guildias/Matheus: “I don’t think the worst of ya,” Fletcher tried to say on par with the hum of the pub. “Ya want me to stand up and hug ya right now, right here in the middle of the floor, in front of the stage for everyone t’see? Want me t’go home with ya and tuck ya in? Wanna ask me out right now, right after MJ left like ya wanted last time?” That fucking timing again, and Fletcher’s lack of social graces.
“Goddamn right I don’t have to share you,” the Setite grinned. The thought had crossed his mind once, lewd images of Callum covered in blood, shared by other hungry Kindred. Fantasies kept to himself, given the druid’s distaste.
The tip of the paring knife was bent. It took considerable effort from the vampire to straighten, regretting now that he had never felt an inclination to learn the art of Potence. He could waste vitae, of course, but “waste” was the reason he didn’t want to. It was annoying enough to have to breathe in public, though it did aid in expression.
“Little serpent,” called to the woods, “I’m coming to slay you.”
Luke/Ronan: Luke slows and changes the song, doing something a little bit more upbeat, hopefully something that will cheer himself up and anyone else in the crowd that might be hearing too much truth in his lyrics. It only half works, really. He hadn't expected to feel worse with Ronan /not/ in the crowd. It was awful.
Ears prick and Ronan straightens. A slow grin spreads across his face. "You think so, huh?" in a second he's up in a tree. "You gotta catch me first, old man." He does his best to not giggle, this is a serious matter. Serious! No time for laughter!
Callum/Pete: Pete didn't think he believed that. He didn't want him to, but how could Fletcher not think the worst of him after everything Pete had done and had failed to do? All the mistakes and shitty decisions he'd made?
All he could do was stare sadly at Fletcher. Pete did want those things, but from Fletcher's tone, he figured Fletcher didn't want to give them to him. And Pete couldn't even blame him.
Callum grinned back and kissed his husband. "I should probably finish tunin' my guitar." Another kiss. "What else do you want to hear me play tonight? Give me all yer requests and I'll fill them." One more kiss.
Fletcher/Guildias/Matheus: “How shall I slay the serpent? A stab to the chest should do the trick. Treat you like a vampire, like the vampires you’ve come to adore.” It was more than his love for Matheus and Guildias. Ronan was a little vampire in his own right.
“Ya gotta pick one of us, Peter, and I know I’m not your choice. I don’t hold it against ya. The only reason ya came t’me the first time was because he was gone. The second time…it’s my fault. I took advantage of one request and it escalated from there. I want ya and I can’t have ya, won’t. I love ya and m’mad at ya. It’s a bag o’shit.”
“I think I’ve requested enough Irish tunes.” Kiss. “What of that little Scottish song… The Drunk Scotsman?” Guildias grinned. “I think you can enliven the crowd with it.”
Ronan: "Hmmmm..." Ronan lounges, stomach on the branch, limbs safely tucked on it aside from one dangling arm. "Then what? Carve out my heart an' hang it on your wall?" he smiles, eyes on Matheus only. He can still hear Luke, and he can hear the tune he's singing and the words. It surprised even him that he hadn't gotten up on staged and smashed the piano. It's only thanks to Matheus that this had been the case. Had he been alone, the bar would most likely be up in flames.
Callum/Pete: "How do you know you're not?" It wasn't like Pete knew what the hell his choice was going to be, but it bothered him that Fletcher was just...dismissing himself. "You think I would be agonizing over it this much if he decision I had to make was a simple one? There's nothing simple about it, Fletcher."
He took a deep breath. "I came to you because of the flowers the first time and the second time wasn't your fault. It was mine. I could've said no, I could've walked away. But I didn't. I knew I was in a relationship and I didn't say no because I wanted you. Because it made me so happy that I finally got to have even one little part of you."
"Ah, yes," Callum chuckled. "I love that one. I love it even more when I'm singin' it drunk." Kiss, kiss, kiss. "The Drunk Scotsman it is, beloved husband."
Fletcher/Guildias/Matheus: “Would you hold it against me if I stab your chest, claim you as my own and take you home as a trophy?” Matheus looked up to the sound of Ronan’s voice and sighed. “You’re supposed to be fleeing, not lying there like a pleased cheetah.”
“I know I’m not because when I was standin’ there with MJ it was MJ ya wanted, MJ ya were after. It’s fine, Peter, really. I don’t blame ya. I really swear hand t’God I don’t.” He'd offered to go home with Peter, offered and opened himself to the rejection he knew he'd be getting because he never expected otherwise, no matter how much he wanted it, it was just a fantasy that was proven false.
“Alright,” Guildias smiled. “Grab your guitar, tune it while sitting in my lap.”
Ronan: "Couldn't if I wanted to, I'd be dead." He smiles leisurely. "I don't think you can get up here, so I ain't too bothered." Perhaps he's underestimating his fiancé, but he's still relaxing on the branch.
Callum/Pete: "It's not fine, Fletcher." Why was he putting himself through this? He should be back behind the bar in his little cone of silence, not baring his soul yet again. "I needed him to understand. And I need you to understand now. I...don't know. I just...you asked what I wanted and I told you. That's all I know right now."
"Nothin' would make me happier." Callum gave Guildias one more kiss before going to grab his guitar.
He set his pants to rights before returning to his husband's lap, taking a moment to pay attention to the music floating in from the stage as he did so. That friend of Ronan's was a hell of a piano player.
Fletcher/Guildias/Matheus: "For how long? Would I get to kill you again?" Had Matheus the power of other vampires, he would have been able to climb as something akin to an animal, something to match the likeliness of his lover in this moment. Instead, Matheus used celerity as his only leverage in reaching the branch just below his prey. "Perhaps I'll just drain you of all blood for such an insulting hunt."
"Look, Peter, I just brought ya over here so ya know I don't hold it against ya. I said m'still lookin'. If ya want somethin' ya gotta ask, but I dunno if I can do it all or ever, but I'll listen. Like I said, just stickin' 'round 'til Luke is on his own two feet." This time Fletcher refused to take his eyes off of the singer.
Guildias watched quietly as Callum tuned, hands resting on his husband's thighs.
Luke/Ronan: Ronan smiles lazily. His dangling arm is tucked against his chest. "What would you prefer?" In a moment he's on the ground, standing behind his fiancé. "This?" Then he disappeared into the trees.
The song slows and finishes. "Thank you." He smiles. "I hope you've been enjoying this... uh, I have a couple songs left but I promise the singer you're used to will be here soon. I know we're all very excited to hear him." he believed the next song would be one everyone knew and would be willing to sing along to. A fairly recent pop song. He cannot remember the name of it, but he's sure by the time the chorus comes around he'll be able to recall it.
Callum/Pete: So one way or another, whether he loved Pete or hated him, whether he held it against him or not, Fletcher was going to leave. He was just waiting for the right moment, the right circumstances and he'd be gone. And Pete didn't think there was anything he could do to stop it.
Long moments passed--Fletcher wasn't even looking at him--before Pete said, very softly, "Can you walk me home after closing?"
"How does it sound?" Callum asked, tweaking just a little more for safety as the crowd out in the pub applauded Luke and some began to sing.
Fletcher/Guildias/Matheus: His celerity would never equal that of his fiancé. Perhaps if he devoted all of his attention to that discipline; he had no interest in progressing deceptive psychological deceptions. Understanding auras was fascinating enough.
“I can’t hunt you in that manner, my love. My techniques would be offensive to use against you. Play human and so shall I.”
Teeth scraped over Fletcher’s lower lip. “Yeah. I can do that.” Deep inhale, gray eyes scanned the bartender, exhale. “I can do that.”
“The guitar is ready, as are you.”
Ronan: Ronan giggles. "Okay. I'll give you a ten second head start for cheatin'." He sways with a happily smile on his face, though a sound from behind him makes it fade. Ronan doesn't bother to look. He does not trust that the sound was real.
Callum/Pete: Relieved, Pete nodded. He even offered what might have been a tiny smile. "Thank you, Fletcher. Really." He hadn't walked home alone since...well. He simply no longer walked home alone. "Can I get you anything besides the beer?"
Callum smiled and kissed his husband's cheek. "Excellent. Want to go out and listen to the rest o' the performance or stay back here and let me kiss yer face?"
Fletcher/Guildias/Matheus: "How have I cheated? You used your power first." His smile faded in time with Ronan's. "What is it?"
"Whatever Luke buys s'on me. Aside from that, m'good. I still got this beer." It didn't matter if Luke paid or if Fletcher paid as he was his employee; it all came from the same pot.
"Can you kiss my face in public? Dangerous thing, that," Guildias grinned. "Whichever you want."
Luke/Ronan: "I meant me." That's why Matheus had been given the little ten second reward. "Nothin'. It's okay." He smiles weakly, "Come get me, baby." Ronan starts to walk backwards.
Luke did not need Fletcher to do such a thing, and he'd object if he had heard. Instead, he continues to sing, his voice as powerful and unfaltering as ever. His history in a church choir may be quite obvious, if not for his innocent choices of songs, for the way his voice attempted to reach heaven and be sweet enough to make them listen.
Callum/Pete: Pete nodded again. "You got it." With that, he returned to his sanctuary behind the bar, taking comfort in replenishing drinks and taking food orders. If people talked about him that was fine. He felt like he and Fletcher had accomplished a great deal this evening, even if all they'd done was talk to each other in a public setting.
"I would love to kiss yer face in public," Callum chuckled. He took his husband's hand and stood. "Come on. We can have a pre-performance drink."
Fletcher/Guildias/Matheus: "As you wish," the words rolled from the Setite's tongue like a purr. He wasn't going to act ashamed of being by Callum's side in public. If that was going to be a problem for Ronan, it was a pity, but the reaper was with the one he truly wanted. All was well enough.
Matheus was distracted now, looking around the woods for whatever it was that had bothered his beloved. A weak smile wasn't enough to deter him.
Fletcher was ready for Luke to finish. He wanted his full attention, to praise him and bask in his natural warmth and beauty. He wanted to look upon someone that wasn't actively ripping his heart to pieces.
Luke/Ronan: Luckily enough, Ronan would not be around to see Guildias' affection for Callum. Luckily, he had avoided at least one heart break that evening.
Instead, Ronan is moving closer to his fiancé, despite the point of the game. "I'm jus' paranoid. Please, Matheus." Please, don't let me ruin this.
After this song, Luke only has one more until he happily (in his ignorance) join Fletcher. For now, he'll keep his eyes shut and his chin up.
Callum: Callum stole a quick kiss before leading them back out to the bar. Everyone seemed utterly fascinated with the musician on the stage and it was impossible to blame them. He really was talented.
"Chartreuse?" Callum asked his husband, joining Pete behind the bar.
Guildias/Matheus: "You're supposed to be on this side," Guildias chuckled. "Get over here and let Peter do his job." He needed that distraction, the company, too, but the vampire was feeling greedy.
"You trust me to kill you tonight?" Matheus asked, eyes finally returning to his beloved. "Without warning, to just stab you as I please?"
Ronan: Put like that, Ronan tilts his head. "Who says you'll be able to?" He smiles, full of daring, "You're a terrible hunter."
Callum/Pete: "Patience, husband. Layla needs to be protected while we drink." Callum was of course referring to his guitar, which was placed out of harm's way.
Meanwhile, Pete poured Guildias his chartreuse and a whiskey for Callum.
Guildias/Matheus: "You're terrible prey," Matheus countered. "Far too relaxed and unafraid of your huntsman." Closer he inched until he could steal a kiss. "I have to believe you trust me in this cruel game."
The drink was accepted with a nod, all but pouting at his husband being just out of reach. "This was not worth having you out of my lap."
Ronan: Ronan giggles while Matheus comes closer. The kiss settles down every inch of him. Definitely very relaxed. He raises his left hand and taps the ring with his thumb. "I trust you."
Callum: "There, there." Callum came back around to the other side of the bar, pulling a stool as close to Guildias' as possible before kissing his face, as promised. "Better?"
Guildias/Matheus: "No," said the Setite. "That's a minute and thirty seconds I'll never get to kiss you," he smirked.
"Hmm," Matheus purred, sliding the tip of the dull knife from Ronan's stomach to his chest. "Where to run my blade..."
Ronan: Ronan's heart pounds and he blinks. The knife against him fills him with lust. "Hopefully nowhere that ruins very expensive clothes."
Callum: Callum gasped dramatically. "That's such a long time! How ever can I make it up to my beautiful husband?"
Guildias/Matheus: The vampire leaned closer to whisper in Callum's ear exactly what it was he wanted. An image painted of the druid naked and tortured with sexual edging until dawn.
"That will do just fine." He kissed his husband's ear, pulling him closer.
"That just leaves your face, or stripping you of your shirt. I don't want to ruin your pretty face, so that just leaves us with one option."
Ronan: The reaper laughs, "Oh fuckin' really?" He starts to take some steps back, "Since we're playin' human, no human would let their murderer undress 'em. So imma have t'run."
Callum: Christ Almighty.
Callum cleared his throat, burrowing his face into Guildias' neck as he did so. That whispered mental image had his face turning bright red.
Guildias/Matheus: "And I'm going to have to chase you, catch you, hold you down and remove your shirt to clear a path for this knife. I wonder if I leave it in would you remain unconscious, a torpor not unlike our own?"
Guildias was practically grinning. "Husband, what's the matter?"
Luke/Ronan: "You'll have t'get it in first." Ronan licks and bites his lip, moving backwards still.
Luke's song finishes and he introduces his final song, moving on to it swiftly and trying to remain happy about it.
Callum: "Oh, nothin'," he said quickly. There was absolutely no reason why his voice was just a bit higher and he was clearing this throat again.
Fletcher/Guildias/Matheus: Matheus continued to follow, flipping the blade in hand as he smiled, fangs exposed. "Run, little rabbit."
Fletcher was among those of the audience enraptured by his music, applauding when appropriate and legitimately smiling. Without any additional distractions, the show was worth the trouble of being here.
"Do you not want me to do that to you? Is it absolutely detestable? You need to tell me before I carry you home."
Ronan: Fuck, Matheus looks so sexy like that. So dangerous. So beautiful. He wished he could just collapse onto his knees for him then and there. He can't. He has to keep going backwards and pretend that that's the direction he wants to go in. His toes are practically already curled. He knows Matheus can see it- all the desire. So he turns, with a smile, and runs.
Callum: Callum shook his head. Detestable? "Absolutely no'." Hoping his face was cooperating (it wasn't), he lifted his head to grin at his husband. "That sounds just fine."
Guildias/Matheus: Matheus had only one eye to guide him, but how hard was it to keep track of Ronan while running just several feet behind him? Twice he nearly crashed into a tree, turning out of the grasp of rude branches with the grace of his species.
"Just fine? This won't do. I should take you home now and show you how fine it'll be."
Ronan: Ronan can't help but laugh, "Careful, baby!" He stops every time Matheus has to, "You're makin' me feel bad for you. Might jus' have t'surrender."
Callum: "You'll take me home soon enough, ye of zero patience." Since they were in full view of the bar, Callum gave his husband a chaste kiss. "And believe me, I know how fine it will be."
Guildias/Matheus: "It's too much," said Matheus, taking to the ground to sprawl. "I surrender." That knife was still well in hand, however.
The chaste kiss was accepted, eyes falling upon the bartender afterwards. "Is the boy going to become a regular here?" he asked, turning his attention back to the stage.
Ronan: Ronan's legs part, and hands plant on his hips. Matheus is given a stern look. "Did the predator jus' become the prey, baby?"
Pete: Pete followed Guildias gaze, studying Luke for a moment before turning his attention to his patrons' faces. Not a hint of distaste anywhere.
"If he wants to, sure. Everyone seems to be enjoying his performance." Maybe he could give Luke a slot during the week to get more people in during those slower hours. Something to talk over later.
Guildias/Matheus: Matheus closed his eyes and beckoned his fiancé closer. "Help. I can't get up. I have one eye. I'll never catch you." Ronan, don't be so foolish.
"It's a welcome distraction, I imagine," said the vampire. "Are you going to be missing another lesson?"
Luke/Ronan: Ronan laughs, "You must think I'm dumb, hm?" He remains where he is, hands on hips. "You want me to come over there you gotta beg." So help Ronan, he will teach Matheus how to beg.
And so, Luke's song comes to a slow and graceful end. He smiles and settles his hands in his lap. "Thank you, you've been a pleasure to perform for."
June/Callum/Pete: "Oh, no. Not anymore." Pete's face colored a bit. He hadn't told Guildias what had happened in the woods, so he'd been postponing his lessons until Callum (who he'd sworn to secrecy) had taken his stitches out and decided to remove the wrapping. Now that both were gone and he was passing as a healthy adult again, it was time to resume his routine.
The bar broke out applause and in June's case, cheers. Luke had won them over.
"Guess that's my cue," said Callum, giving his husband one more quick kiss before retrieving his guitar. He smiled as he hopped up on stage. "Nicely done, mate." He offered a hand. "I'm Callum."
Fletcher/Guildias/Matheus: With a sigh, Matheus raised his knee, crossing the other over, hands resting behind his head, knife still in hand. "Absolutely not."
June was not alone in her cheering. In fact, Cowardly Fletcher gave a standing ovation. Luke deserved all of the praise for singing in front of perfect strangers. Worse, singing in front of Ronan, brief though it was.
"I'll be here," said Guildias. Callum's shoulder was given a brief squeeze. Watching his husband, he said to Peter, "Do you recall your last lesson, or has the drama of the bar muddled your memory?"
Luke/Ronan: Ronan grins and shrugs. "I'll make it easy for ya." His hoodie is taken off and tied around his waist, then his shirt is removed and thrown to Matheus. "There. One step down. One to go."
All the applause makes Luke blush, especially seeing Fletcher on his feet. He is given a shy smile as he stands. When he is approached the smile widens. "Oh! Thank you, it's lovely to meet you, Callum." The hand is given a shake, "I'm Luke, let me just get this off the stage for you so that it's out of your way." He smiles and starts to move the piano.
Callum/Pete: Pete's face colored even more, thought thankfully Guildias gave him a perfect excuse for it. He'd never guess that Pete's short-term memory had in fact been briefly muddled when his head had been slammed into that tree. "It might have," he said softly, drawing more beers and avoiding looking at his teacher's face.
It was a pleasant surprise to find that Luke was absolutely nothing like Ronan. For one, he seemed to have a firm grasp on the concept of politeness. "Pleasure to meet you, Luke. Need a hand?"
Fletcher/Guildias/Matheus: The Malkavian rolled over onto his side to watch the show, snatching the shirt out of the air. "What am I doing again? I've completely lost all train of thought."
Callum and Luke. Now that was a pair. The druid could be trusted; he was kind if nothing else. His taste in men was absolutely fucked, but so was Peter's. He couldn't say shit on the matter. Another beer. Yes, many more beers to come before bed.
"What do you recall?" It had taken months for Guildias to get to this point, an unwilling but patient teacher to an unlikely student. By the rules and logic of the Masquerade, Peter should have been a slave or dead. He was far too innocent to be Embraced. Despite his shortcomings, he was growing on the Setite.
Luke/Ronan: "No, thank you. I'll be fine. Good luck... or break a leg, if you're superstitious." He chuckles and sets about wheeling the piano back to where it came from. It was easier going in this direction.
Ronan laughs and shrugs. "I think you're about to kill me."
Callum/Pete: "Um..." Pete distributed drinks as he thought back to his previous lesson. It felt like it happened five hundred years ago. He lowered his voice before saying, "I remember you talking about the Umbra."
"Much appreciated, mate." Callum assumed his usual position on the stool that was put on stage specifically for him. He called his usual greeting, made his usual banter, and dove right in to a lively rendition of Whiskey in the Jar.
Fletcher/Guildias/Matheus: "I am about to kill you, but first I'm going to enjoy the view. Is that too much to ask for?" He offered his hand, sticking the blade in the dirt as a show of good faith.
"That was a brief lesson," he reminded. "What else do you recall? Take your time." Little time was given between Guildias' words and Fletcher's approach.
"Can I go backstage?" the Samsa asked. He wanted to see the reaper; it felt too long since he saw a friendly face that wasn't June.
Luke/Ronan: The piano is carefully maneuvered out, returned to the exact place it was before. He attempts to tidy it, to somehow wipe the keys and adjust the microphone down. He didn't want to seem ungrateful.
Ronan smirks and hums. He's skeptical. After a moment of consideration he willingly moves forward, sliding over and sitting on Matheus' lap.
Pete: He tried to envision his notes. Everything Guildias had taught him was always carefully written down and reviewed but with everything going on he hadn't quite gotten to the reviewing stage.
"I think I remember--" Pete cut himself off as Fletcher approached, nodding at the question. "Go ahead."
Fletcher/Guildias/Matheus: Away Fletcher went, leaving Guildias with a smirk on his face. "You two still sound like school children."
"Luke?" The Samsa had never been back here in human form. Much smaller than he had assumed given the height difference. "Hey, angel."
"Ah, much better," Matheus smiled. Hands took to rest on Ronan's hip. "I will stab you before we leave these woods," he reminded.
Luke/Ronan: Luke straightens, all of a sudden flustered at the sound of his name in Fletcher's voice. "Ye-hi," he smiles, starting to toy with his chain, "Thank you... for your support and encouragement."
"Is that a fact?" he laughs, leaning in to kiss Matheus' lips. "Sounds like a lie to me."
Pete: "Not from where I'm standing," Pete sighed, nodding at the drink order Rita called out to him as she breezed by. There was nothing but pain as far as he could see.
Fletcher/Guildias/Matheus: "You and your melancholy, Peter."
Fletcher smiled, something honest but subtle. "Ya did great, man. Really. Knew ya'd do good." He had been given a private show, of course he was biased. A word they would later debate on in length. "Ya hungry at all? Thirsty? Let's go out."
"Why would I lie about stabbing you? That's a very serious promise to make." Don't answer that, Ronan; he wants more kisses.
Luke/Ronan: "Thank you." The smile becomes shy and he moves forward. Fingers raise to Fletcher's hair, as if fixing it but really just using it as an excuse. "June made me a milkshake. A secret one, that I'm not allowed to tell anyone about." The smile grows, "We're already out. How much further out do you wish to go? Swimming?" he laughs.
Ronan merely laughs against Matheus' lips, starting to shamelessly grind on him.
Pete: That annoying voice in the back of his head mocked him for being too emotional once more. "I don't have the energy to feel anything else. I don't have a reason to feel anything else."
Fletcher/Guildias/Matheus: "If ya want. I was thinkin' an actual restaurant, though. Somethin' just us. I mean if ya wanna go swimmin' though that's just fine by me." And the hand in his hair wasn't going to be objected.
"Mm, tell me what you really want," Matheus grinned, giving that breathy laugh of his. His hands made their way to rest over Ronan's ass.
"You're trying to tell me that you have no reason to feel anything but sorry for yourself?"
Pete: "I'm not feeling sorry for myself." He felt sad and guilty and heartbroken and inadequate and alone and being here every night wasn't making that any better. Nor was this conversation.
In an attempt to escape it, he moved to the other end of the bar to replenish drinks.
Luke/Ronan: Why? When this pub serves food? When there's live music? When there's June? "You want to leave." Luke blinks. "Because of Ronan? Because of... I don't- why do you want to leave?" Does Fletcher just really want to be alone with Luke? But they're alone all the time in his home and occasionally at work.
"You." he laughs in return, rolling hips back against those lovely hands.
Fletcher/Guildias/Matheus: Well, no one was around to stop him. Not Ronan, certainly not his husband singing his heart out for the enthusiastic crowd. He had now had his fill of Peter's depressing attitude.
Guildias made his way around the bar, finishing his Chartreuse before setting the glass in the sink. The owner was taken by his hand and led to the kitchen. He didn't expect Peter to object, not in his current state. It was a familiar touch, something the vampire had done only a handful of times before, usually when trying to catch the man's attention. There was nothing forceful and aggressive about it.
"Come here," he said, standing Peter in front of him. A glance back was given to Bobby. "Shoo." He was above having to convince that chef.
Fletcher took Luke's hand in his own and squeezed. "This place is just stuffy. If ya wanna stay, fine, but I - I wanted ya t'have more than just what was on the same road as the house and shop." That wasn't a lie, but he was utilizing this moment in which to confess it.
Matheus took the time to direct Ronan's body with those hands, pressing him down to what was now a hard offered body. "This isn't murder, unless you count killing with kindness. I think I might like that better with you."
Luke/Ronan: Oh. He laces their fingers together and he smiles gently. "I see. We can- we can go somewhere. You know Edenton far better than I, you should pick the place. I trust your judgement."
Moans are sent down Matheus' throat. Not too eager, but definitely not inconspicuous. "You can murder me soon, I promise."
Pete: "Hey, what--" That was the extent of Pete's protest as Guildias led him away from the bar. He may not have objected, but that was mostly due not to the familiarity of the touch, but the fact that Guildias had taken his hand instead of his wrist. If the vampire had taken his wrist, no amount of gentleness would've stopped the panic attack.
Such as it was, there was only confusion.
Confusion that was shared by Bobby, who gave a quick glance at his boss before shrugging and leaving the kitchen.
"Why did you bring me to the kitchen?" Pete asked.
Fletcher/Guildias/Matheus: Guildias waited patiently for Bobby to excuse himself, only then turning his attention back to the barkeep. He wanted this to be over. His vampire was an idiot for letting this happen, and Peter was someone precious to his druid. A lot of effort had gone into keeping this man safe and educated. For some reason, Peter Graham was special to everyone within his social circle. Maybe to the Setite himself, but he couldn’t specify. Stay in the vicinity of something long enough and you grow accustom to it.
Large hands cupped to a bearded face, forcing eye contact. “This cannot continue. I’m sick of seeing you this way as I’m sure you yourself are exhausted of it. I want you to go home and cry and drink yourself into oblivion. You have one night to swim in this sorrow. Drown in it until your fingers are prune-y. I don’t care what you do, but tomorrow morning you’re going to embrace life and try again. Do whatever you have to do to feel better. Take back your life, Peter, and then we will have lessons again.” Obsession was one of the most useful and utilized powers Guildias had taken from Valiant. He wasn’t above or below such manipulation so long as the result was of his liking.
“D’ya wanna stay?” I still have to walk Peter home at some point. “I know this is uh…rash but…I-I just – D’ya know how t’swim?” he smiled. “We could go swimmin’.”
“Promise?” Matheus just wanted to hear Ronan struggle to speak through those delicious moans. Nothing made him happier than having Ronan on top of him, rolling his hips, body yearning. Still, there was murder to be had. He rolled their bodies, pinning the reaper to the ground. “I win.”
Luke/Ronan: Luke wasn't certain how often Fletcher spoke like this- the stammering, the uncertainty, the hesitation. He's sure he didn't speak like this when they first met. he wonders what brought it on. Instead of commenting on it Luke smiles back. "I do know how to swim, Fletcher. We can, if you don't think everywhere will be extremely cold."
"Promise," he whispers... and squeals when his bare back meets the floor. "Fuck." He laughs and tries to hit Matheus' chest. "You're evil. I'm engaged to an evil man."
Pete: Pete waited for Guildias to speak, expecting either a lecture over forgetting his last lesson or a lecture on the disaster that was his personal life. He wasn't expecting something heartfelt and concerned, as that wasn't his professor's way.
And he definitely wasn't expecting his face to be held or to be looked at so intensely. After that, it really stopped being about what Pete expected; it was suddenly all about what Guildias was saying to him, about the urge that was blooming to life in every part of his mind.
Pete's eyes took on a faraway look, consumed for the first time in weeks by emotions that were not of his own creation or will, emotions that were pushing him toward home, toward oblivion, toward god only knew what.
Fletcher/Guildias/Matheus: “Cold swims are the best swims, what are ya on about?” he grinned, hiding it behind his free hand before straightening. “Besides…how ya feelin’ right now, anyway?” Ronan Archer, of course. A cause for concern.
“You’re going to marry this evil man. Are you prepared for more nights like tonight? Of being my prey? You have to take your job as seriously as I do.” The knife was reclaimed, slid over Ronan’s chest. Was the trust still there?
As that familiar faraway look took hold, Guildias caressed down Peter’s face, released him. “Whatever you do, remember that Callum will want you to come home in one piece, and I don’t want my nights teaching you gone to rot. Be safe, Peter.”
Luke/Ronan: He had been happy for the distracting idea of going swimming with Fletcher. The reminder is not a pleasant one. "Ronan walked out." He states. That should sum it up.
Ronan flinches, but he still smiles. "Every night? Might get tirin'."
Peabody/Pete: Pete gave Guildias an absent nod. Safe. Yes he would be safe. Callum wanted him to be safe. He'd go home and drink and cry and then...then...he had no idea what he would do then. But after he did it, he would be better. Guildias would resume teaching him and things would be better.
He nodded to himself as his eyes returned to focus. "Okay," he said quietly, turning to walkout of the kitchen. Did he have whiskey at home? He couldn't remember. It didn't matter, he'd grab a few bottles before he left.
Pete had barely slipped back behind the bar when he caught Peabody's gaze. The deputy was on the phone, face set in grim lines that had something very cold curling in Pete's gut.
"We'll be right there," Peabody said to Brett, hanging up. "Pete, your dad's had an accident. We gotta go."
Fletcher/Guildias/Matheus: "M'just glad he didn't cause a scene," Fletcher said quietly. "Ya really were great, angel."
"What was that?" Matheus tapped the tip of the blade against Ronan's chin. "What's going on in that head of yours?"
Guildias remained in the back as Peter slipped away. He could never be sure if his actions would offer the desired result, but he wasn't going to dwell on it for too long. If Callum asked, he had given Peter a pep talk, nothing more. It didn't matter anyway, as once he returned the bartender was gone. He made his way to his favorite seat to watch his husband perform.
Luke/Ronan: "It was... surprising. Mature. If it was because of me that he left, he chose that option over making a scene. I wouldn't expect anything like that from him. Perhaps his fiancé is a very good influence. He seems like a nice man." Fletcher's hand is given a kiss. "Thank you for coming." And is squeezed and kissed again. "It means the world to me."
Ah. Ronan giggles, raising his chin to move the knife with him. "One day you're gonna ask me that an' I'll be thinkin' about some weird midget porn I saw the day before."
Fletcher/Matheus: "I really didn't really wanna," he confessed. "But," his eyes focused on those kisses, "m'glad I did. M'glad I got t'hear ya like this." He really had nothing to add on Matheus Clay. He barely knew the vampire now that he was out from underneath the original prince. The leech seemed like a completely different creature with Ronan Archer. "Of course," he smiled. "M'glad ya had fun."
"I'm going to stab you in the heart in ten seconds, Ronan. Are you ready?" The knife slid down from chin to throat, down to carve a thin figure 8 over his pecs.
Luke/Ronan: The hand is released. "I could spend all night thanking you, perhaps we should start to head out before we end up standing here for all of eternity."
The reaper trembles, shivers, he gasps and arches his spine. He's hard against his trousers and it makes him whine- wanting to keep grinding on his lover but not wanting to push into the knife prematurely. Hands cling to Matheus, tight and desperate for some support.
"Mm hm." He nods, though he doubts he ever will be ready for such a thing.
Fletcher/Matheus: "Yeah, sounds good," though he wouldn't make it out the door before hearing the waitresses starting in on the story of Jeremy Peabody and Peter Graham. Fucking Christ, he was gone five minutes. "That..." He shouldn't say anything in front of Luke. He knew better.
One, two, three...
Matheus lowered, offering his lips to his beloved.
Four, five, six...
He breathed Ronan in, nuzzled into his hair, kissed his temple, and whispered his I love you in Irish. In an instant of celerity, he was up, plunging the knife into flesh and muscle and bone. Now they would know just how this immortal body would handle being staked.
Luke/Ronan: Luke stares. What? He inhales and watches Fletcher, not sure about what to say or do about this news. Which one had been Peter, again? Goodness. He does nothing, compliant with Fletcher. Whatever he had to do he could do. Luke would not object, it wasn't his place to.
The adrenaline makes it difficult to hear and feel Matheus. Instead, it's all pulse and breathing. He suddenly wished Matheus had chosen five seconds instead of ten, it would be less painful to wait less time.
Matheus leans away and Ronan widens his eyes. It all comes with the sudden sharp pain. His body twitches and hands spasm. There's a far too long second of staring up at Matheus before he's turning to his side to cough out blood, vomit it and hiss at the pain it causes his chest.
His entire body is awake and alert, even his ankles are wondering what is going on up there. His body convulsed and he gagged, head and heart pounding achingly.
Fletcher/Matheus: The knife was gripped harshly by the handle, removed with a single swift lurch. It had not caused instant unconsciousness. Fascinating, but now it was time for after care. Kisses were given to the healing wound, nuzzles against Ronan's neck as the reaper recovered. "Not what I was expecting," he whispered. "Breathe. Slow. Slow."
Fletcher could only obtain so much information from the waitresses. It wasn't enough to satisfy. "C'mon," he whispered, leading Luke outside. His jacket was zipped and he contemplated. "Can ya wait right here? I gotta...do somethin'. That okay?"
Luke/Ronan: Breaths come out far from slow. He settles on his back again- gasping and coughing. Blood stains his lips and a drip rolls from his mouth. Hands clutch Matheus' back, holding his attacker firmly closer. "Wh-what-" He coughs and gasps, "expectin'?" Please just understand the implied full sentence. He cannot say every word.
Ensure he has all of his things first, Fletcher is followed. Luke stops when he stops. "You- you want me to stand here and wait for you?"
Fletcher/Matheus: "The same result as a vampire would have, torpor, knocked unconscious by ... perhaps that would be your brain, but that's not a wound I intend to ever inflict on you." More nuzzles; he didn't care about the blood, just that Ronan understood the separation between their little games and his earnest affection.
"Could ya, please? This'll only take a minute, I promise. I promise."
Luke/Ronan: Really? Luke wants to ask if it has anything to do with Peter, but he thinks he knows the answer. He tries to hide his sadness and uncertainty but his face betrays him. Luke nods. He'll wait.
The wound is healed and so is Ronan. He wipes his mouth and clings to the other. "I'm alright, I'm okay, Matheus. Nothin' happened." He turns and kisses Matheus' neck.
Fletcher/Matheus: "I don't like that result," the vampire whispered. "I'm not certain, but you didn't seem to be enjoying yourself either." Ronan was pulled as close as humanly possible, face buried into those curls. His precious Ronan. "I know you're alright," he whispered.
Fletcher made his way behind the bar, removing his shoe and sock, pulling from his jacket his pocket knife. This was never a pleasant moment; he barely managed to keep his grunt muffled with bitten tongue. Moments later he returned, knife hidden, limping for several feet before straightening. "S'all good. We can go."
Luke/Ronan: "It made me puke blood it... it burned." The stab itself had been wonderful, an intense feeling of clarity, but the vomit had overshadowed it. It had hurt his chest and his insides, and it was too distracting for him to focus on what he truly wanted to. "I love you, baby." In case he had forgotten.
Luke is looking down at his hands when Fletcher returns, so he did not see him limp- otherwise he'd have a lot of questions. His voice makes the blond look up. "Are you sure?"
Fletcher/Matheus: "If you want, make us even." The knife was offered. "I love you, too. I want you to feel safe, with the same privileges. Stab me."
"Mhm. Everything's fine." One of his Samanthas was out to investigate. She would make a beeline to the hospital. There would be drifting tonight.
Luke/Ronan: The knife is taken and twirled between agile fingers, and then stabbed into the ground at arm’s length. "I am safe, I don't have to hurt you t'know that." Legs are tangled with Matheus' and he's clung to. Lips search for nowhere in particular, just kissing whatever part of Matheus they find.
"That's good." He fidgets with the hem of his top, lowering his gaze. As ever, Fletcher would be questioned every time he has that familiar faraway look in his eyes, probably until Luke feels rejected and hurt enough to simply go home and sleep.
Fletcher/Guildias/Matheus: The statement had taken the Malkavian by surprise. This was his reaper, his Ronan. He was so forgiving and...placid. Was this what love had done to him? The question and others of its like would go without sound, kept on his tongue which made its way to his fiancé's mouth. This was fine, just fine, and when Ronan had enough he would be carried home.
Fletcher would apologize several times before the night was finished. He would take Luke to the river; if nothing else, they could dip their feet and enjoy the silence, the peace. Not all of his drifts were due to his Samanthas. He was tired, and usually in bed by midnight if not earlier. He wanted Luke to himself, he wanted to know Peter was alright, he wanted his friends to live in comfort, but he couldn't juggle everyone at once.
