Cris loosened the tie as he took the last few steps that placed him in front of his door. Rowan should be home by now and hopefully asleep after his long shift. Smiling Cris also hoped his partner wouldn't mind being woken up for a little while. Though if not then he would be happy enough settling in beside his redhead and getting some rest as well.
Opening the door quietly, more out of habit than necessity, Cris entered and shut it behind him. His eyes scanned the open area of the main floor, also out of habit. They paused on the curled up legs that he could just see over the arm of the nearest sofa.
He crossed the room quietly, wondering why Rowan had chosen to fall asleep down here in the living room instead of upstairs in the bed. Perhaps there was something that he wanted to tell him? Maybe he had intended to stay up until he got home and simply...
It became quickly apparent that Rowan was not asleep when he got close enough to see the rest of his lover from over the arm of the chair. His partner was curled up around one of the pillows but his head lifted from the couch cushion when Cris came near.
"I think I can find you something better to cuddle, My love."
Kneeling down in front of the sofa, Cris removed the pillow and set it aside. He looked over Rowan's aura even as he was wrapping his arms around as his companion. Cris squeezed his lover tightly to him and sighed softly; it felt so good to be home and to have Rowan close again.
"What happened?" He asked quietly. It was obvious that something had troubled his handsome redhead. Cris slid up onto the couch, not quite letting Rowan go as he changed positions. Once settled, he held his partner close and stroked his fingers through the silken strands of damp, dark hair while he waited patiently for the explanation. He wished, not for the first time, that he could convince Rowan to become a kept man. He hated seeing his partner so troubled by work; however, he also knew that Rowan helped so many people and loved his job with a passion. It was unfair to want to keep him close and all to himself. He also knew that ultimately it would make Rowan more unhappy than his occasional bad night at the hospital. Cris sighed inwardly, giving up on his dream of coming home to housewife Rowan cleaning the apartment clad only in a tiny apron.
Method Vs Madness (invite only)
Rowan changed out of his dirty and smoke-infused scrubs, the scene he'd just witnessed playing out in his mind again and again. He had so little to go on. He didn't know the identity of the slain vampire; he'd found nothing in the way of clues on the warehouse rooftop. All he had was this charred piece of paper.
Fortunately Rowan knew what to do with a handwritten poem. Freshly showered, damp hair tucked behind his ears, he sat with his long legs tucked under him on Cris's couch, his lap desk settled comfortably on top of them. His notebook and a pen were off to one side, conveniently within reach of his left hand. With his right he unfolded a pair of glasses and put them on. They were simple reading glasses with magnifying lenses, to help keen eyesight become keener.
Over the years Rowan had spent forging documents he'd become a strong supporter of graphoanalysis. It had first been seen as a gimmick but over time doctors, psychiatrists, and scientists had determined that there was something to it. Rowan had studied it extensively, fascinated by it. The fact that certain mental states could influence a person's handwriting was indisputable. The slightly more abstract concept that certain pressures and angles could indicated the writer's state of mind had also been proven with reliability.
For over an hour he charted angles, pressures, consistencies, taking the poem apart line by line, word by word. He was trying to get an idea of what kind of person had written it.
The answers he got were unsettling.
Rowan checked and double checked his work, debating over a few strokes that could go either way. Both fit the profiles he was building but both had different ramifications. In the end he sat back, stretching, cracking his back as he did. He did the same to his knuckles after setting down his pen. He looked at his neatly written notes and then back at the poem.
Oh, he hated to bring this to Cris. Cris had enough work already. But as much as Rowan would love to solve this little mystery alone, it was a matter for every Clan, not just his own. One of their kind had been murdered. Rowan had no doubt that this was a cold-hearted, premeditated murder. Having nothing to go on as far as a face or name or identity, Rowan could only show Cris what he had and hope that his partner didn't think him insane.
He looked at the clock; Cris was still at work but would be home soon. Maybe he should save it. He didn't want to cause Cris to have to work late, but he also didn't want to lay it on him when he came home.
Torn, Rowan set the lap desk aside. He tucked the poem between two pages of his notebook and set that aside too, with the pen. Shifting positions, he curled up on the couch, laying his head against the arm. Sighing, he replayed the night's events in his head which did no good. How must it have felt to burn like that, to fall like a blazing comet to the ground in a little personal inferno?
Had the victim even been alive at that point?
Rowan tugged a throw pillow to himself and hugged it against his chest. He didn't like this one bit. Sometimes, he told himself, you should just keep walking. But he couldn't have done that. Centuries ago, sure, but today it wasn't him. He'd gone beyond the person he'd once been and now he couldn't separate himself. He could no more have run the other way than he could stop drinking blood.
Rowan closed his eyes and tried not to think about the falling vampire. He had done what he could; he had to turn the matter over to Clan authorities and think no more on it. Still, the echoes of a cut off cry rang through his mind.
Christian Bern
13 years ago
Rowan Murphy
13 years ago
Rowan heard Cris come in quietly, smiling at the fact that his partner hardly needed to do that but did anyway. Had he actually been asleep Cris probably could have invited an entire pipe and drum band in to serenade him with an off-key version of 'Amazing Grace' without Rowan waking. He was glad Cris was finally there, but he wasn't looking forward to delivering his news of the night. It would be unfair to keep it from him, though, as he'd already concluded.
Cris knelt before him and Rowan happily released his pillow to wrap his arms agreeably around the best thing to cuddle. He sighed, relaxing even though he was still unhappy; Cris did that for him. Just being near his cool, confident lover made things better, no matter how bad they seemed.
Cris's quiet question was going to have to wait for an answer; as his boyfriend slid himself into place on the couch Rowan settled into those strong comforting arms with a little moan of contentment. He reached up and tugged Cris's tie even looser, breathing in the clean crisp faint scent of soap. Deft fingers undid the top few buttons of Cris's shirt and Rowan readjusted himself so he was half-sitting, leaning against Cris's chest, close enough to turn his head and press his lips to the hollow of Cris's throat.
"I'm so glad you're home."
He'd answer Cris's question in a moment. As soon as he could figure out how not to worry him over it. Though really, the best way to worry Cris would be to keep stalling. So he should just spit it out. Cris, like Rowan, was a man of action. He would cope better with any situation if he could form a plan and act upon it, not sit around and fret. It did neither of them any good to hang on and stall.
"It doesn't really involve me," he finally said, still snuggled comfortably against Cris. "It was something that happened on the way home that was odd."
In a soft voice, reluctant to ruin the cozy mood, Rowan detailed to Cris exactly what had happened after he'd fed himself and was headed home. He left nothing out, relaying the details exactly as he remembered them, knowing Cris would want to know it all. He continued to hold onto his partner though, partly because he was afraid Cris might jump up and go right back to work and partly because Rowan himself had not liked being a witness. He wanted to stay right where he was, safe and content.
When had he gotten so soft? He made a face at himself, internally. He wasn't soft! He was just... tired of killing and seeing people be killed. He'd had enough of it for a few centuries.
"There's something else," he said when he'd finished telling Cris about what he'd seen. Reaching down he groped around at the foot of the sofa until he located his notebook, with his neat meticulous notes regarding the poem.
"I found this."
Rowan opened the book, leaning back against Cris so they could both see the pages. Rowan wasn't sure how familiar Cris was with graphology but he pointed out what he'd determined anyway.
"The person who wrote this wasn't drunk. He wasn't particularly angry or suffering from the effects of drugs." Rowan's eyes flickered up to Cris's face. "He planned it, Cris. And carried it out exactly as written here. It wasn't a crime of passion. It was cold and premeditated."
Someone had killed a vampire, deliberately, successfully, right in front of Rowan's eyes. It was unsettling.
Cris knelt before him and Rowan happily released his pillow to wrap his arms agreeably around the best thing to cuddle. He sighed, relaxing even though he was still unhappy; Cris did that for him. Just being near his cool, confident lover made things better, no matter how bad they seemed.
Cris's quiet question was going to have to wait for an answer; as his boyfriend slid himself into place on the couch Rowan settled into those strong comforting arms with a little moan of contentment. He reached up and tugged Cris's tie even looser, breathing in the clean crisp faint scent of soap. Deft fingers undid the top few buttons of Cris's shirt and Rowan readjusted himself so he was half-sitting, leaning against Cris's chest, close enough to turn his head and press his lips to the hollow of Cris's throat.
"I'm so glad you're home."
He'd answer Cris's question in a moment. As soon as he could figure out how not to worry him over it. Though really, the best way to worry Cris would be to keep stalling. So he should just spit it out. Cris, like Rowan, was a man of action. He would cope better with any situation if he could form a plan and act upon it, not sit around and fret. It did neither of them any good to hang on and stall.
"It doesn't really involve me," he finally said, still snuggled comfortably against Cris. "It was something that happened on the way home that was odd."
In a soft voice, reluctant to ruin the cozy mood, Rowan detailed to Cris exactly what had happened after he'd fed himself and was headed home. He left nothing out, relaying the details exactly as he remembered them, knowing Cris would want to know it all. He continued to hold onto his partner though, partly because he was afraid Cris might jump up and go right back to work and partly because Rowan himself had not liked being a witness. He wanted to stay right where he was, safe and content.
When had he gotten so soft? He made a face at himself, internally. He wasn't soft! He was just... tired of killing and seeing people be killed. He'd had enough of it for a few centuries.
"There's something else," he said when he'd finished telling Cris about what he'd seen. Reaching down he groped around at the foot of the sofa until he located his notebook, with his neat meticulous notes regarding the poem.
"I found this."
Rowan opened the book, leaning back against Cris so they could both see the pages. Rowan wasn't sure how familiar Cris was with graphology but he pointed out what he'd determined anyway.
"The person who wrote this wasn't drunk. He wasn't particularly angry or suffering from the effects of drugs." Rowan's eyes flickered up to Cris's face. "He planned it, Cris. And carried it out exactly as written here. It wasn't a crime of passion. It was cold and premeditated."
Someone had killed a vampire, deliberately, successfully, right in front of Rowan's eyes. It was unsettling.
Christian Bern
13 years ago
He sighed contentedly as deft fingers pulled his tie away and began to open the top buttons of his shirt. His lover worked in silence, not yet answering his question. Cris wondered if Rowan was worried that he would not like what he heard and was stalling in the delivery of bad news. He would not pry unless it continued to trouble his partner and then he would get to the bottom of it if he had to; right now he was patient enough to let Rowan tell him at his own pace, only wanting to soothe his lover's concerns.
Cris listened to Rowan's tale of his evening and as it progressed he found himself growing internally more tense by the moment; he tried not to let it show in the loose hold that he had around his partner. He didn't want to worry Rowan but he did not like that his lover had come so close to someone willing, and able, to kill a vampire.
The way Rowan had relayed the story to him made it sound like murder and not suicide. The screams of pain and surprise... surely a vampire wishing to kill themselves would not have been so shocked by the experience though he supposed the pain might have been more than expected. Of course, he was not sure why a vampire wishing to commit suicide wouldn't just walk out into the sun; lighting oneself on fire sounded unnecessarily messy and had more potential for going wrong.
Rowan sat up and reached for the notebook at the other end of the sofa, mentioning that there was more. Pouring over the notes written in Rowan's neat and now wonderfully familiar handwriting, Cris frowned and sat up a little straighter. He clutched his partner protectively to him while he stared at the paper and the note.
"This does not sound like personal revenge." He gestured toward the note. "It sounds almost like a game. Like you said, there is no passion, no hate, no anger. The poem, the setting up of events to make certain that it happened exactly as written. To do that..." This was written by one sick bastard. "Your notes suggest a seasoned killer; there is no anxiety, no uncertainty in the handwriting. We must conclude then he or she has killed before, and from the personality you describe here, will again." The question was who. The murderer killed a vampire very effectively and planned that attack very carefully. Cris would conclude then that they knew what kind of being they were dealing with, either that or they were really very lucky in their choice of murder weapon. So did this killer only hunt vampires or was this just the choice for the moment? Was it possibly a certain clan or vampires with a certain ability that was favored? He didn't know and he didn't like that Rowan had been there; what if this monster had still been around? So many serial killers liked to watch their crimes being discovered; there was a certain thrill in seeing the horrified faces of those who found the results and a feeling of superiority when the crime remained unsolved. He hoped the murderer had been long gone after tossing the vampire screaming from the rooftop; that perhaps the thrill for this one was only the act itself. Cris fervently hoped that his lover's involvement was only in the barest of passing and that he had remained unnoticed by such a dangerous man.
"I will tell the other clans." He squeezed Rowan tighter. "Do you mind company?" Alfarinn was the most skilled psychometrist he knew and perhaps the Elder could glean a few more facts from the piece of paper before too many more people handled it. Even if this killer didn't target Rowan Cris had an entire clan to keep safe and it would be best if they knew all the could about this twisted individual before another vampire died.
Cris listened to Rowan's tale of his evening and as it progressed he found himself growing internally more tense by the moment; he tried not to let it show in the loose hold that he had around his partner. He didn't want to worry Rowan but he did not like that his lover had come so close to someone willing, and able, to kill a vampire.
The way Rowan had relayed the story to him made it sound like murder and not suicide. The screams of pain and surprise... surely a vampire wishing to kill themselves would not have been so shocked by the experience though he supposed the pain might have been more than expected. Of course, he was not sure why a vampire wishing to commit suicide wouldn't just walk out into the sun; lighting oneself on fire sounded unnecessarily messy and had more potential for going wrong.
Rowan sat up and reached for the notebook at the other end of the sofa, mentioning that there was more. Pouring over the notes written in Rowan's neat and now wonderfully familiar handwriting, Cris frowned and sat up a little straighter. He clutched his partner protectively to him while he stared at the paper and the note.
"This does not sound like personal revenge." He gestured toward the note. "It sounds almost like a game. Like you said, there is no passion, no hate, no anger. The poem, the setting up of events to make certain that it happened exactly as written. To do that..." This was written by one sick bastard. "Your notes suggest a seasoned killer; there is no anxiety, no uncertainty in the handwriting. We must conclude then he or she has killed before, and from the personality you describe here, will again." The question was who. The murderer killed a vampire very effectively and planned that attack very carefully. Cris would conclude then that they knew what kind of being they were dealing with, either that or they were really very lucky in their choice of murder weapon. So did this killer only hunt vampires or was this just the choice for the moment? Was it possibly a certain clan or vampires with a certain ability that was favored? He didn't know and he didn't like that Rowan had been there; what if this monster had still been around? So many serial killers liked to watch their crimes being discovered; there was a certain thrill in seeing the horrified faces of those who found the results and a feeling of superiority when the crime remained unsolved. He hoped the murderer had been long gone after tossing the vampire screaming from the rooftop; that perhaps the thrill for this one was only the act itself. Cris fervently hoped that his lover's involvement was only in the barest of passing and that he had remained unnoticed by such a dangerous man.
"I will tell the other clans." He squeezed Rowan tighter. "Do you mind company?" Alfarinn was the most skilled psychometrist he knew and perhaps the Elder could glean a few more facts from the piece of paper before too many more people handled it. Even if this killer didn't target Rowan Cris had an entire clan to keep safe and it would be best if they knew all the could about this twisted individual before another vampire died.
Rowan Murphy
13 years ago
Rowan closed his eyes, his lips drawing into a tight, thin line as he listened to Cris's assessment, which matched his own. He nodded, frowning. "Yes," he said softly. "That was my conclusion as well."
He pressed his cheek against the fabric of Cris's suit as his partner's arms tightened around him. He knew Cris was unhappy with this news; there was nothing he could do to keep his love from worrying. Protection was his job; he did it well, but he would feel obligated to keep an eye on Rowan now and Rowan was sorry to be taking Cris's attention away from other matters.
"I don't mind company," he said, opening his eyes, looking up at Cris, and arching his brows in question. The last thing he'd expected was for Cris to invite some friends over. Did he think Rowan needed a distraction? If that was the case Rowan could think of a great one that required just the two of them.
"As long as I don't have to move," he added, "because I feel very clingy tonight."
He lifted his hand to the split in Cris's shirt, tracing his fingertips down the smooth fair skin of Cris's chest. "Do you have tomorrow off?" he said hopefully. Cris was usually good about meshing his schedule with Rowan's, and Rowan was not scheduled to be back at work for a day and a half. After the events of this evening he did not feel particularly motivated to go out again; not without Cris at any rate.
He sighed against Cris's shoulder and gently finished unbuttoning everything that needed unbuttoning so that he could lay his cheek against Cris's chest and listen to his slow, reassuring heartbeat. Slipping his hands inside Cris's clothing and around his slim waist Rowan said, "I'm sorry. I didn't want to drop that on you right as you got in. Before you even got to change or relax at all."
Rowan nuzzled his nose against Cris's chest. "I knew you'd want to know though."
Had to know, really. If Rowan had hesitated to tell Cris, he might have threatened the trust they shared. They had to let each other do their jobs, dangerous or frightening or stressful as they might be. Rowan never wanted Cris to question his trust or to feel like Rowan didn't want to be completely open with him. It had been tempting to lie to him, to deliver some story about a stressful work day, and it would have been so easy for him to do. But Rowan couldn't. Never with Cris.
He pressed his cheek against the fabric of Cris's suit as his partner's arms tightened around him. He knew Cris was unhappy with this news; there was nothing he could do to keep his love from worrying. Protection was his job; he did it well, but he would feel obligated to keep an eye on Rowan now and Rowan was sorry to be taking Cris's attention away from other matters.
"I don't mind company," he said, opening his eyes, looking up at Cris, and arching his brows in question. The last thing he'd expected was for Cris to invite some friends over. Did he think Rowan needed a distraction? If that was the case Rowan could think of a great one that required just the two of them.
"As long as I don't have to move," he added, "because I feel very clingy tonight."
He lifted his hand to the split in Cris's shirt, tracing his fingertips down the smooth fair skin of Cris's chest. "Do you have tomorrow off?" he said hopefully. Cris was usually good about meshing his schedule with Rowan's, and Rowan was not scheduled to be back at work for a day and a half. After the events of this evening he did not feel particularly motivated to go out again; not without Cris at any rate.
He sighed against Cris's shoulder and gently finished unbuttoning everything that needed unbuttoning so that he could lay his cheek against Cris's chest and listen to his slow, reassuring heartbeat. Slipping his hands inside Cris's clothing and around his slim waist Rowan said, "I'm sorry. I didn't want to drop that on you right as you got in. Before you even got to change or relax at all."
Rowan nuzzled his nose against Cris's chest. "I knew you'd want to know though."
Had to know, really. If Rowan had hesitated to tell Cris, he might have threatened the trust they shared. They had to let each other do their jobs, dangerous or frightening or stressful as they might be. Rowan never wanted Cris to question his trust or to feel like Rowan didn't want to be completely open with him. It had been tempting to lie to him, to deliver some story about a stressful work day, and it would have been so easy for him to do. But Rowan couldn't. Never with Cris.
Christian Bern
13 years ago
Cris looked down at Rowan and smiled softly at him, hugging him tight. "I do not think Alfarinn will mind and too bad if he does." His fingers slid beneath his partner's tee shirt and moved in long smooth strokes over Rowan's back. "because I believe I am feeling rather clingy as well."
He sent to his friend and asked him to please join them as soon as he was available. Alfarinn would sense the concern he felt, Cris didn't hide it from him. The answer was quick; the elder would be on his way.
"As it happens, I do have tomorrow off." He smiled at Rowan as his hand slid around toward the front and moved beneath the waistband of the loose fitting jogging pants that his lover wore. Cris let his fingers glide down one hip as he looked at his partner with an expression of innocence.
"Why? Do you have something in mind?" He did his very best to match his schedule with Rowan's. Any other person would have found his own workload to be too much and would complain about the lack of time that he was able to afford them. Not his handsome, loving Doctor; Rowan worked just as hard if not harder with hours equally long. If Cris wanted to see his beloved at all aside from occasionally crawling into bed next to him then he needed to schedule his own rest around Rowan's.
"Shh, Don't apologize. I would worry if you had not. Now we will learn what we can about it and then we will enjoy ourselves." Rowan had finished unbuttoning his shirt and he moaned softly at the feel of his lover's hands on his skin and the weight of Rowan's head against his chest, the soft red hair tickling his skin. He could happily lay here like this for hours but Alfarinn was on his way. Cris looked over at the notes that Rowan had made. "Do you mind if MARI has a copy of these?" When Rowan gave his assent, Cris kissed his lover gently. "Thank you. We will add them and whatever Alfarinn is able to tell us."
He nodded to Rowan and kissed him again when his lover explained why he told him so soon after coming home. Cris would want to know about something that threatened the safety of his clan and anything that worried Rowan; in this case both of those things were the same. He wanted to put his partner's mind at ease; they would do what they could to find this person and it shouldn't be something to trouble his already stressed and overworked companion.
"When we're done with this..." Cris smiled, his fingers slid feather light across his lover's lower abs. "Should I tuck you into bed and let you get some sleep?"
He sent to his friend and asked him to please join them as soon as he was available. Alfarinn would sense the concern he felt, Cris didn't hide it from him. The answer was quick; the elder would be on his way.
"As it happens, I do have tomorrow off." He smiled at Rowan as his hand slid around toward the front and moved beneath the waistband of the loose fitting jogging pants that his lover wore. Cris let his fingers glide down one hip as he looked at his partner with an expression of innocence.
"Why? Do you have something in mind?" He did his very best to match his schedule with Rowan's. Any other person would have found his own workload to be too much and would complain about the lack of time that he was able to afford them. Not his handsome, loving Doctor; Rowan worked just as hard if not harder with hours equally long. If Cris wanted to see his beloved at all aside from occasionally crawling into bed next to him then he needed to schedule his own rest around Rowan's.
"Shh, Don't apologize. I would worry if you had not. Now we will learn what we can about it and then we will enjoy ourselves." Rowan had finished unbuttoning his shirt and he moaned softly at the feel of his lover's hands on his skin and the weight of Rowan's head against his chest, the soft red hair tickling his skin. He could happily lay here like this for hours but Alfarinn was on his way. Cris looked over at the notes that Rowan had made. "Do you mind if MARI has a copy of these?" When Rowan gave his assent, Cris kissed his lover gently. "Thank you. We will add them and whatever Alfarinn is able to tell us."
He nodded to Rowan and kissed him again when his lover explained why he told him so soon after coming home. Cris would want to know about something that threatened the safety of his clan and anything that worried Rowan; in this case both of those things were the same. He wanted to put his partner's mind at ease; they would do what they could to find this person and it shouldn't be something to trouble his already stressed and overworked companion.
"When we're done with this..." Cris smiled, his fingers slid feather light across his lover's lower abs. "Should I tuck you into bed and let you get some sleep?"
Rowan Murphy
13 years ago
Rowan's mouth made a little 'o' of understanding when Cris told him who was coming over. He wasn't sure why Alfarinn, necessarily, unless Cris simply wanted Rowan to relay the tale in person to their Elder. He writhed in pleasure, squirming closer on Cris's lap as his lover's gentle fingers touched his back. His heart swelled; Rowan could not imagine loving anyone more. Cris fit him perfectly. he understood Rowan exactly, as if they were bonded. He wanted Cris to be clingy, the way he felt, very much so tonight.
"I'm so glad," Rowan said with relief as Cris confirmed their similar scheduling. He shivered as that warm gentle hand slid around to his front and traveled down his hip. "No," he said, shaking his head against Cris's chest. "I just want to be with you. That's all."
He flicked his tongue out against Cris's nipple, teasing and toying, knowing Alfarinn wouldn't be long but unable to resist. One of Rowan's favorite things to do was be waiting for Cris to come home, welcome him at the door, and immediately love him as best he knew how. It would have to wait for a little while tonight.
The soft moan was hard to ignore, though. Rowan smiled and lifted his head up to return Cris's kiss, nodding immediately to the suggestion of giving MARI he notes he'd made about the poem. Cris's next words enlightened Rowan somewhat; clearly Alfarinn might be able to help provide some insight into this odd writing. There were numerous ways in which that might be accomplished. Rowan would find out which applied soon enough.
He almost wished Cris had asked Alfarinn to wait a half an hour. Or an hour. Cris's second kiss was received and returned with even more enthusiasm than the first. Rowan's hands slid upward from Cris's waist and traveled as far up his back as they could without the couch being in the way, and he deepened their embrace, losing himself in Cris's kiss happily. It made his fears seem like so much less, his worries seem like trivial things of the past.
Rowan found his laugh again at Cris's knowing smile. "If you like," he murmured softly, but he looked up at Cris with solemn, loving eyes. "I want to love you tonight," he said in a voice barely above a whisper. "May I?"
They tended to be fairly equal partners when it came to lovemaking, but Rowan still knew of Cris's past and more often than not made sure that it was all right with him. Cris's trust was not something he would ever take lightly. Tonight, though...
"I want to lose myself in you later. Hold you and love you until there's nothing for either of us but each other."
It happened frequently with Cris, that sensation of there being no world, no universe, but what the two of them could immediately see. Rowan wanted that tonight especially. To just live for Cris, to focus on nothing but Cris's company for at least a few hours. No work. No murder mysteries.
He sighed against Cris's chest and lifted one hand away from Cris's back. Wrapping it around Cris's neck he gently massaged the nape of it while pulling Cris down for a deep, suggestive kiss that left no doubt as to how, exactly, he wanted to lose himself.
"I'm so glad," Rowan said with relief as Cris confirmed their similar scheduling. He shivered as that warm gentle hand slid around to his front and traveled down his hip. "No," he said, shaking his head against Cris's chest. "I just want to be with you. That's all."
He flicked his tongue out against Cris's nipple, teasing and toying, knowing Alfarinn wouldn't be long but unable to resist. One of Rowan's favorite things to do was be waiting for Cris to come home, welcome him at the door, and immediately love him as best he knew how. It would have to wait for a little while tonight.
The soft moan was hard to ignore, though. Rowan smiled and lifted his head up to return Cris's kiss, nodding immediately to the suggestion of giving MARI he notes he'd made about the poem. Cris's next words enlightened Rowan somewhat; clearly Alfarinn might be able to help provide some insight into this odd writing. There were numerous ways in which that might be accomplished. Rowan would find out which applied soon enough.
He almost wished Cris had asked Alfarinn to wait a half an hour. Or an hour. Cris's second kiss was received and returned with even more enthusiasm than the first. Rowan's hands slid upward from Cris's waist and traveled as far up his back as they could without the couch being in the way, and he deepened their embrace, losing himself in Cris's kiss happily. It made his fears seem like so much less, his worries seem like trivial things of the past.
Rowan found his laugh again at Cris's knowing smile. "If you like," he murmured softly, but he looked up at Cris with solemn, loving eyes. "I want to love you tonight," he said in a voice barely above a whisper. "May I?"
They tended to be fairly equal partners when it came to lovemaking, but Rowan still knew of Cris's past and more often than not made sure that it was all right with him. Cris's trust was not something he would ever take lightly. Tonight, though...
"I want to lose myself in you later. Hold you and love you until there's nothing for either of us but each other."
It happened frequently with Cris, that sensation of there being no world, no universe, but what the two of them could immediately see. Rowan wanted that tonight especially. To just live for Cris, to focus on nothing but Cris's company for at least a few hours. No work. No murder mysteries.
He sighed against Cris's chest and lifted one hand away from Cris's back. Wrapping it around Cris's neck he gently massaged the nape of it while pulling Cris down for a deep, suggestive kiss that left no doubt as to how, exactly, he wanted to lose himself.
Alfarinn
13 years ago
[Stop making out and come open the damn door.]
Alfarinn was smiling despite his sending. He couldn't be sure that was what Christian was doing but there was a certain telltale distance in their bond that had not been there just moments before. If that were not evidence enough, Alfarinn knew that Cris still managed to work long hours and he knew that Rowan did the same. They were home together; he doubted they were playing Parcheesi.
Cris showed up at the entrance with his tie loose around his neck and his shirt undone. His friend's lips had the somewhat swollen appearance of someone recently and thoroughly kissed. Alfarinn gave him a knowing smile and slid past him into the apartment.
"Good Evening, Doctor." He smiled at Rowan and then turned back to Cris. "Care to fill me in?"
He made his way to Christian's kitchen and found the stash of alcohol that was kept for rare occasions. Sometimes Alfarinn wondered whether or not it was here only for him but, he pulled down a bottle of honey coloured liquid with label he didn't recognize, and thought that maybe Cris was being more sociable of late. Reading the description on the alcohol, he raised his eyebrows and then brought the bottle and some glasses back into the other room. He held it up to Cris in silent question before setting the glasses on the table and pouring them each some of the precious liquid.
Cris handed him a blue boat coaster before taking his drink and Rowan's and settling back onto the sofa with his partner.
Taking a sip of the alcohol, Alfarinn paused, held the glass up, looked over at Cris and then down at the bottle.
"This is good....this is really good." He sighed happily and took another swallow of the mead that tasted like home. It was made right, not mass produced. Alfarinn didn't know where Cris had found the stuff but he planned to find out as soon as it was convenient.
He took another sip and then looked over at the pair who likely wanted time to themselves and leaned forward. "Okay, let's get down to business."
Alfarinn was smiling despite his sending. He couldn't be sure that was what Christian was doing but there was a certain telltale distance in their bond that had not been there just moments before. If that were not evidence enough, Alfarinn knew that Cris still managed to work long hours and he knew that Rowan did the same. They were home together; he doubted they were playing Parcheesi.
Cris showed up at the entrance with his tie loose around his neck and his shirt undone. His friend's lips had the somewhat swollen appearance of someone recently and thoroughly kissed. Alfarinn gave him a knowing smile and slid past him into the apartment.
"Good Evening, Doctor." He smiled at Rowan and then turned back to Cris. "Care to fill me in?"
He made his way to Christian's kitchen and found the stash of alcohol that was kept for rare occasions. Sometimes Alfarinn wondered whether or not it was here only for him but, he pulled down a bottle of honey coloured liquid with label he didn't recognize, and thought that maybe Cris was being more sociable of late. Reading the description on the alcohol, he raised his eyebrows and then brought the bottle and some glasses back into the other room. He held it up to Cris in silent question before setting the glasses on the table and pouring them each some of the precious liquid.
Cris handed him a blue boat coaster before taking his drink and Rowan's and settling back onto the sofa with his partner.
Taking a sip of the alcohol, Alfarinn paused, held the glass up, looked over at Cris and then down at the bottle.
"This is good....this is really good." He sighed happily and took another swallow of the mead that tasted like home. It was made right, not mass produced. Alfarinn didn't know where Cris had found the stuff but he planned to find out as soon as it was convenient.
He took another sip and then looked over at the pair who likely wanted time to themselves and leaned forward. "Okay, let's get down to business."
Christian Bern
13 years ago
Cris looked at Rowan with his serious work face. "You would have a hard time getting rid of me so its just as well that you want me around." Whatever else he might have said was quickly forgotten when his lover's tongue found his chest. Cris gasped and then growled softly at their lack of time. They should probably not repeat their earlier distracted performance in front of Alfarinn; he might not forgive them a second time.
Of course that resolve was lost fairly quickly as Rowan deepened their kiss. Cris clutched his lover tighter, a moaning a little noise of need against his companion's lips, responding with increased fervor.
Rowan readily agreed to be tucked into bed and Cris smiled to hear his partner's laughter. He wanted his partner to forget about the grizzly scene he had witnessed and the possibility of future death; he deserved to rest untroubled by such things. Then Cris was asked very quietly to be loved tenderly and thoroughly. He marveled that he had found such an amazing man; though in all honesty it seemed Rowan found him. Cris felt blessed; he reached a hand up to tenderly tuck a strand of hair behind his partner's ear. "Yes, My Love. Nothing would make me happier." It had been a long time since he felt any concern over being taken by Rowan. It did not matter how they made love so long as they did so and often. He loved and wanted it all; so long as Rowan was there then it would just right.
In the middle of Rowan's next kiss Alfarinn sent to him. His friend's words perfectly described their situation. He pulled back and smiled at Rowan, looking briefly like a guilty school boy caught necking in some dark corner.
"Alfarinn is outside." Cris slid out from beneath Rowan. "Save my place. I promise to reclaim it."
He went to the door and found Alfarinn leaning negligently against the sill, a knowing little smirk on his face. Cris favored his friend with an arched eyebrow and declined to answer the send. He stepped back and shut the door behind the Norse man.
Watching Alfarinn head to the kitchen, Cris went back to Rowan and took his place once more beside him. He moved the notebook onto the coffee table within easy reach and brought out the coasters. Alfarinn managed to find some of Eiryk's mead; he couldn't say that he was very surprised. Nodding his consent, Cris pushed the blue coaster, Alfarinn's favorite, toward him, picking two others at random for himself and Rowan. He handed his partner a glass and took a sip of his own. Cris then set it down and reached for his lover again. Everything could be said just as well with his arms wrapped around his Beloved.
"Rowan can explain better or I can if he'd prefer but the short of it is there is something I would like you to touch, if you are willing, and tell me what you see." He leaned forward and reached one hand out to open the notebook and then nod his head to indicate the paper laying inside. He glanced at his partner before turning a somber gaze back to Alfarinn.
"Rowan witnessed a murder tonight...of a vampire."
Of course that resolve was lost fairly quickly as Rowan deepened their kiss. Cris clutched his lover tighter, a moaning a little noise of need against his companion's lips, responding with increased fervor.
Rowan readily agreed to be tucked into bed and Cris smiled to hear his partner's laughter. He wanted his partner to forget about the grizzly scene he had witnessed and the possibility of future death; he deserved to rest untroubled by such things. Then Cris was asked very quietly to be loved tenderly and thoroughly. He marveled that he had found such an amazing man; though in all honesty it seemed Rowan found him. Cris felt blessed; he reached a hand up to tenderly tuck a strand of hair behind his partner's ear. "Yes, My Love. Nothing would make me happier." It had been a long time since he felt any concern over being taken by Rowan. It did not matter how they made love so long as they did so and often. He loved and wanted it all; so long as Rowan was there then it would just right.
In the middle of Rowan's next kiss Alfarinn sent to him. His friend's words perfectly described their situation. He pulled back and smiled at Rowan, looking briefly like a guilty school boy caught necking in some dark corner.
"Alfarinn is outside." Cris slid out from beneath Rowan. "Save my place. I promise to reclaim it."
He went to the door and found Alfarinn leaning negligently against the sill, a knowing little smirk on his face. Cris favored his friend with an arched eyebrow and declined to answer the send. He stepped back and shut the door behind the Norse man.
Watching Alfarinn head to the kitchen, Cris went back to Rowan and took his place once more beside him. He moved the notebook onto the coffee table within easy reach and brought out the coasters. Alfarinn managed to find some of Eiryk's mead; he couldn't say that he was very surprised. Nodding his consent, Cris pushed the blue coaster, Alfarinn's favorite, toward him, picking two others at random for himself and Rowan. He handed his partner a glass and took a sip of his own. Cris then set it down and reached for his lover again. Everything could be said just as well with his arms wrapped around his Beloved.
"Rowan can explain better or I can if he'd prefer but the short of it is there is something I would like you to touch, if you are willing, and tell me what you see." He leaned forward and reached one hand out to open the notebook and then nod his head to indicate the paper laying inside. He glanced at his partner before turning a somber gaze back to Alfarinn.
"Rowan witnessed a murder tonight...of a vampire."
Rowan Murphy
13 years ago
Rowan knew he was just making it harder on both of them but it was impossible not to touch and caress Cris when he was so close, and they were in the privacy of their own home. Cris's words made him long for 'later' to come sooner but there was he harsh reality of his recent past to face first. He felt a little guilty sending Cris to answer the door looking disheveled and freshly loved but Cris didn't seem to mind and Alfarinn didn't mention it. And in Rowan's opinion, Cris only looked more delicious as he returned to the sofa, tousled and perfectly delicious.
Alfarinn greeted him and went straight to the kitchen. "Evening, boss," Rowan said pleasantly in return, wrapping himself back up around Cris shamelessly. They were home now and he was calling this a special circumstance. He'd been apologetic for being grabby out in public; this was in private and he wouldn't apologize at all. As Alfarinn discovered a bottle of Eiryk's mead Rowan turned to Cris and gently tugged his tie free, setting it aside.
He sipped at his mead and then set his on the coaster as well, preferring the comfort of Cris's embrace to the tingling warmth of alcohol. Alfarinn expressed his appreciation for the drink with some surprise. "A friend of ours makes it," he said. "You and he share a background, I believe."
Rowan sighed softly and nodded as Cris spoke again, taking up the story where Cris stopped and telling the tale one more time in gory detail.
When he finished, nestled as close to Cris as he could get as if his partner could ward off the memory of the killing, Rowan shrugged at Alfarinn. "The paper, there, is the only thing I have to show for it. I didn't get to see his... or her... face. There was nothing left. I climbed up to the rooftop but there was nothing there."
To Rowan, that was the frightening part although as he thought about it he realized it might not be what he was thinking. "The door was locked, but maybe the person who performed this murder owns the building, or knows who does."
His mind had immediately wandered into the realm of the supernatural when he couldn't figure out how the killer got away but there was always the very real possibility of the murderer having had a key. The scenarios were many. Rowan knew it was more or less out of his hands now but his mind continued to hack away at the mystery.
Rowan leaned forward and used his hand to slide the notebook and the poem on top of it toward Alfarinn. His preliminary notes probably made very little sense to someone who wasn't also a graphologist; they were a series of numbers and degrees of angles, line after line of each. At the end though he had made a neat summary of his profile of the murderer, including the one or two variables he hadn't really been able to nail down through analysis alone.
"This is everything we have to go on."
He leaned back once more into Cris's arms, wrapping his own around his partner's waist. "I know it's not a lot but anything will probably help at this point."
Alfarinn greeted him and went straight to the kitchen. "Evening, boss," Rowan said pleasantly in return, wrapping himself back up around Cris shamelessly. They were home now and he was calling this a special circumstance. He'd been apologetic for being grabby out in public; this was in private and he wouldn't apologize at all. As Alfarinn discovered a bottle of Eiryk's mead Rowan turned to Cris and gently tugged his tie free, setting it aside.
He sipped at his mead and then set his on the coaster as well, preferring the comfort of Cris's embrace to the tingling warmth of alcohol. Alfarinn expressed his appreciation for the drink with some surprise. "A friend of ours makes it," he said. "You and he share a background, I believe."
Rowan sighed softly and nodded as Cris spoke again, taking up the story where Cris stopped and telling the tale one more time in gory detail.
When he finished, nestled as close to Cris as he could get as if his partner could ward off the memory of the killing, Rowan shrugged at Alfarinn. "The paper, there, is the only thing I have to show for it. I didn't get to see his... or her... face. There was nothing left. I climbed up to the rooftop but there was nothing there."
To Rowan, that was the frightening part although as he thought about it he realized it might not be what he was thinking. "The door was locked, but maybe the person who performed this murder owns the building, or knows who does."
His mind had immediately wandered into the realm of the supernatural when he couldn't figure out how the killer got away but there was always the very real possibility of the murderer having had a key. The scenarios were many. Rowan knew it was more or less out of his hands now but his mind continued to hack away at the mystery.
Rowan leaned forward and used his hand to slide the notebook and the poem on top of it toward Alfarinn. His preliminary notes probably made very little sense to someone who wasn't also a graphologist; they were a series of numbers and degrees of angles, line after line of each. At the end though he had made a neat summary of his profile of the murderer, including the one or two variables he hadn't really been able to nail down through analysis alone.
"This is everything we have to go on."
He leaned back once more into Cris's arms, wrapping his own around his partner's waist. "I know it's not a lot but anything will probably help at this point."
Alfarinn
13 years ago
Alfarinn looked at the glass and the bottle then took another appreciative swallow of mead. He nodded to Rowan when it was mentioned that this friend of theirs had a similar background. With a smile, he asked.
"He's Norse? Gay? Likes to sail? Fight with large metal weapons or drink really good alcohol? Which part of my background?"
Perhaps there was something else he was forgetting. Alfarinn shrugged.
He got up and went to the wall by the door and pressed the button there to talk to MARI. Some people invited the AI into every part of their home and some people refused to have anything to do with her (which did -not- mean she had nothing to do with them. She still controlled almost every function of their home but some people felt safer in ignorance.) Crispin took a middle path, allowing MARI a camera in the common room and requesting his privacy unless he invited her in. Alfarinn believed he phrased it to her as her being a guest. The computer seemed oddly pleased that the Security Chief would occasionally want her company at home.
"MARI could you please join us and record my words?"
"Alfarinn, Cris has not requested my presence and he is the current owner of this establishment."
He sighed and wanted to argue, technically the building was in his sister's name and his own but instead he turned and looked at Cris. The man wore a grin that seemed faintly smug as he told MARI that she was most welcome to join them.
The AI appeared on the television screen and smiled into the room. "Thank you, Mr Bern. I am delighted. Good Evening, Dr. Murphy. It is good to see you again." She turned her gaze to Alfarinn, he noted that he did not receive a happy greeting but he did receive a nod. "I am ready, Alfarinn."
Sitting back down, he reached for the piece of paper without glancing at the notes that had been made. He did not want other information to taint the impressions that he received.
-Faintly he saw a forest. It was so distant that the memory of it was pale, indistinct and without colour, like a dream that quickly faded upon waking, impossible to hold.
-A blur of belts and wheels and many many hands.
-A man's hand writing, the nails clean and trimmed but not manicured. A light shone nearby and the surface beneath the paper was a dull metal.
-A man pulling the paper from an envelope, on his lips were the words 'Not again'. He looked to be of western European decent, mixed into mediocrity, brown of hair and eyes of blue. The little of his clothing that could be seen was modern and unremarkable.
-Rowan's face tilted upward his hand upon the paper, ashes caught in his dark red hair, the expression on his pale face one of concern and confusion.
Alfarinn relayed each impression to the others and to the AI as they had come to him. He sorted over the details of them for anything he had missed and, when he found nothing further to add, he opened his eyes.
Setting the piece of paper back down on the notebook, he took up his drink again and settled back in the chair to watch the other two in silence.
"He's Norse? Gay? Likes to sail? Fight with large metal weapons or drink really good alcohol? Which part of my background?"
Perhaps there was something else he was forgetting. Alfarinn shrugged.
He got up and went to the wall by the door and pressed the button there to talk to MARI. Some people invited the AI into every part of their home and some people refused to have anything to do with her (which did -not- mean she had nothing to do with them. She still controlled almost every function of their home but some people felt safer in ignorance.) Crispin took a middle path, allowing MARI a camera in the common room and requesting his privacy unless he invited her in. Alfarinn believed he phrased it to her as her being a guest. The computer seemed oddly pleased that the Security Chief would occasionally want her company at home.
"MARI could you please join us and record my words?"
"Alfarinn, Cris has not requested my presence and he is the current owner of this establishment."
He sighed and wanted to argue, technically the building was in his sister's name and his own but instead he turned and looked at Cris. The man wore a grin that seemed faintly smug as he told MARI that she was most welcome to join them.
The AI appeared on the television screen and smiled into the room. "Thank you, Mr Bern. I am delighted. Good Evening, Dr. Murphy. It is good to see you again." She turned her gaze to Alfarinn, he noted that he did not receive a happy greeting but he did receive a nod. "I am ready, Alfarinn."
Sitting back down, he reached for the piece of paper without glancing at the notes that had been made. He did not want other information to taint the impressions that he received.
-Faintly he saw a forest. It was so distant that the memory of it was pale, indistinct and without colour, like a dream that quickly faded upon waking, impossible to hold.
-A blur of belts and wheels and many many hands.
-A man's hand writing, the nails clean and trimmed but not manicured. A light shone nearby and the surface beneath the paper was a dull metal.
-A man pulling the paper from an envelope, on his lips were the words 'Not again'. He looked to be of western European decent, mixed into mediocrity, brown of hair and eyes of blue. The little of his clothing that could be seen was modern and unremarkable.
-Rowan's face tilted upward his hand upon the paper, ashes caught in his dark red hair, the expression on his pale face one of concern and confusion.
Alfarinn relayed each impression to the others and to the AI as they had come to him. He sorted over the details of them for anything he had missed and, when he found nothing further to add, he opened his eyes.
Setting the piece of paper back down on the notebook, he took up his drink again and settled back in the chair to watch the other two in silence.
Christian Bern
13 years ago
Cris smoothed his hand soothingly over Rowan's back once or twice as he finished retelling the events from earlier tonight. He then held his partner tightly to him, once more fervently hoping this was the last time that Rowan would have anything to do with this situation and the sick individual who had created it.
He watched the interaction between Alfarinn and the AI, amused at her correctness. Cris invited her to join them and when she appeared he gave her a nod and smile of greeting.
Alfarinn took up the paper and began relaying to them the details that he saw from it. They were precious few. They now knew that the killer was likely a man with average sort of hands and that was really all.
"Do you think you can work with MARI to get us a sketch of the dead vampire?"
If they could put an identity to this vampire then perhaps they could narrow down a clan. Knowing who he was then perhaps they could get a better idea of motive. The words of the poem suggested that the killer felt he was bringing the man to justice of some sort. They could hope that perhaps they had stumbled upon some personal vengeance. However, Cris did not believe so; Rowan's notes told him that the man who wrote that letter was far from done with killing.
Alfarinn consented to doing his best to make a sketch of the dead man. "Good, I will speak to my compatriots within the other clans and see if we can't find out who he was."
He watched the interaction between Alfarinn and the AI, amused at her correctness. Cris invited her to join them and when she appeared he gave her a nod and smile of greeting.
Alfarinn took up the paper and began relaying to them the details that he saw from it. They were precious few. They now knew that the killer was likely a man with average sort of hands and that was really all.
"Do you think you can work with MARI to get us a sketch of the dead vampire?"
If they could put an identity to this vampire then perhaps they could narrow down a clan. Knowing who he was then perhaps they could get a better idea of motive. The words of the poem suggested that the killer felt he was bringing the man to justice of some sort. They could hope that perhaps they had stumbled upon some personal vengeance. However, Cris did not believe so; Rowan's notes told him that the man who wrote that letter was far from done with killing.
Alfarinn consented to doing his best to make a sketch of the dead man. "Good, I will speak to my compatriots within the other clans and see if we can't find out who he was."
Rowan Murphy
13 years ago
Rowan raised his eyebrows and nodded as Alfarinn ticked off several personality traits of his. They really had to introduce him to Eiryk. "All the above, actually," he said when the Elder was finished listing.
He listened with amusement to the discussion with Evenhet's AI, speaking up only to return MARI's greeting in as cheerful a tone as he could muster. It wasn't hard; Rowan was by nature an optimist. Having told Cris about his night, knowing the information had been relayed to Alfarinn, he felt much better. Still slightly unsettled; after all, how often did they witness the death of one of their own? Vampires were a hardy lot. But overall Rowan felt better than he would have, had he kept the information to himself.
Interested in Alfarinn's method, Rowan watched quietly as the Elder took up the little slip of paper and closed his eyes. In no time he'd begun to voice his impressions out loud. Rowan paid keen attention to Alfarinn's description of the man who had written the letter but was slightly disappointed that they weren't left with much to go on. "Thank you," he said to Alfarinn when he was finished.
It felt odd hearing his own face placed at the murder scene, although he supposed he should be more grateful than uncomfortable; Alfarinn must know now that Rowan was not involved in anything shady, that the story was as he'd told it. It wasn't that he thought anyone else doubted him, but more like sometimes he doubted himself. Rowan wasn't stupid. He'd been on the shady side of the law enough times that he knew his mere proximity to such a crime made him someone to watch. He'd done time in prison before, long ago, of course. He didn't care to repeat it though.
Alfarinn was watching them quietly now, simply enjoying his mead as Cris detailed his immediate plans for dealing with their new information. Rowan rested his head against Cris's shoulder, still somewhat uncharacteristically quiet himself. The past was past. Normally he would put it behind him and move on but in this case he could not. Catching a murderer could depend on things he remembered.
He made a mental note to write the entire event in his journal before the details faded from his memory. He would do so at some point that night. In the meantime he couldn't help but wonder what the killer would do next. Was this something that would be repeated? Rowan thought so. How would the killer select a victim next? That, he didn't know. It chilled him to have been anywhere nearby.
"He doesn't have any reason to come after me," he finally murmured out loud before his own doubts could assail him further. "I don't know that he was even still there."
He hadn't been speaking to either of them in particular but his eyes moved upward to Cris's face and he searched for agreement there. He wanted to hear it... even if he didn't really think it was true. Rowan felt like there were unknown eyes watching him this very moment.
He listened with amusement to the discussion with Evenhet's AI, speaking up only to return MARI's greeting in as cheerful a tone as he could muster. It wasn't hard; Rowan was by nature an optimist. Having told Cris about his night, knowing the information had been relayed to Alfarinn, he felt much better. Still slightly unsettled; after all, how often did they witness the death of one of their own? Vampires were a hardy lot. But overall Rowan felt better than he would have, had he kept the information to himself.
Interested in Alfarinn's method, Rowan watched quietly as the Elder took up the little slip of paper and closed his eyes. In no time he'd begun to voice his impressions out loud. Rowan paid keen attention to Alfarinn's description of the man who had written the letter but was slightly disappointed that they weren't left with much to go on. "Thank you," he said to Alfarinn when he was finished.
It felt odd hearing his own face placed at the murder scene, although he supposed he should be more grateful than uncomfortable; Alfarinn must know now that Rowan was not involved in anything shady, that the story was as he'd told it. It wasn't that he thought anyone else doubted him, but more like sometimes he doubted himself. Rowan wasn't stupid. He'd been on the shady side of the law enough times that he knew his mere proximity to such a crime made him someone to watch. He'd done time in prison before, long ago, of course. He didn't care to repeat it though.
Alfarinn was watching them quietly now, simply enjoying his mead as Cris detailed his immediate plans for dealing with their new information. Rowan rested his head against Cris's shoulder, still somewhat uncharacteristically quiet himself. The past was past. Normally he would put it behind him and move on but in this case he could not. Catching a murderer could depend on things he remembered.
He made a mental note to write the entire event in his journal before the details faded from his memory. He would do so at some point that night. In the meantime he couldn't help but wonder what the killer would do next. Was this something that would be repeated? Rowan thought so. How would the killer select a victim next? That, he didn't know. It chilled him to have been anywhere nearby.
"He doesn't have any reason to come after me," he finally murmured out loud before his own doubts could assail him further. "I don't know that he was even still there."
He hadn't been speaking to either of them in particular but his eyes moved upward to Cris's face and he searched for agreement there. He wanted to hear it... even if he didn't really think it was true. Rowan felt like there were unknown eyes watching him this very moment.
Alfarinn
13 years ago
Alfarinn had raised his eyebrows upon hearing that there was, somewhere nearby, a mead making Norse man who shared many of the same interests. How had he managed to miss such a person?
When the impressions were done he glanced down at the rest of the notes. His eyes grazed over the research of angles, strengths and strokes and moved onward to the end where a summary had been written in a neat orderly script. It must have been Rowan's work because he was quite familiar with Cris's tight concise penmanship. The conclusion was disturbing. When he was done reading, Alfarinn raised his eyes to those of his Security Chief.
He saw worry there beneath that calm outward appearance, perhaps only because he could feel it through the bond they shared. He understood it and sought to calm his friend's fears. [This is not the same. Rowan is not in security and its only by chance that he was involved.]
As if the redhead could hear their silent conversation, he told Cris that the murderer had no reason to come after him and that it was quite possible that the man had not even been there when Rowan had arrived on the scene.
"True enough. It is a waste to worry before there is a need to do so."
Finishing his mead, Alfarinn sighed and set the glass down on the coaster.
"I'd like to meet this friend of yours."
He stood up and headed for the door, waving Cris back to his seat when he leaned forward to accompany him. "I will talk to MARI and send that sketch to your office. Rowan please remind him that he is off work now and can start on this in the morning. I am certain that it will keep until then." Alfarinn smiled at them both. "Have a good evening and thanks for the drink."
((OOC: Alfarinn Out ))
When the impressions were done he glanced down at the rest of the notes. His eyes grazed over the research of angles, strengths and strokes and moved onward to the end where a summary had been written in a neat orderly script. It must have been Rowan's work because he was quite familiar with Cris's tight concise penmanship. The conclusion was disturbing. When he was done reading, Alfarinn raised his eyes to those of his Security Chief.
He saw worry there beneath that calm outward appearance, perhaps only because he could feel it through the bond they shared. He understood it and sought to calm his friend's fears. [This is not the same. Rowan is not in security and its only by chance that he was involved.]
As if the redhead could hear their silent conversation, he told Cris that the murderer had no reason to come after him and that it was quite possible that the man had not even been there when Rowan had arrived on the scene.
"True enough. It is a waste to worry before there is a need to do so."
Finishing his mead, Alfarinn sighed and set the glass down on the coaster.
"I'd like to meet this friend of yours."
He stood up and headed for the door, waving Cris back to his seat when he leaned forward to accompany him. "I will talk to MARI and send that sketch to your office. Rowan please remind him that he is off work now and can start on this in the morning. I am certain that it will keep until then." Alfarinn smiled at them both. "Have a good evening and thanks for the drink."
((OOC: Alfarinn Out ))
Christian Bern
13 years ago
Cris smiled down at Rowan as Alfarinn nodded in reply to the thanks he was given. The new information was not much to go on but if they could place a face to the vampire then it might lead them to a lot more. Little by little and bit by bit was the way many a war was won and many a mystery solved.
Alfarinn was watching him; Cris tried to stare calmly back. He could not close himself off without his friend knowing why he had done it so he would just have to accept that Alfarinn could feel his weakness. He could at least put a serene face on it if he was going to be forced to acknowledge his worries. Sure enough Alfarinn told him that this situation was different than the one in the past that had been playing over and over in the back of his mind since Rowan had told him about the murder he had witnessed. [I keep trying to tell myself the very same things. When this ends with no incident then I might even believe the words.] He was frightened for Rowan and wanted to hold him all the tighter and not let him leave. Of course holding on too tightly was what had caused him trouble the first time.
He looked down at Rowan and smiled bravely for his partner's sake and nodded his head. "I can think of no reason why you would be of interest. For all we know there is some complicated process by which this person selects his victims. Its that way for many such killers. Therefore its unlikely that you fit the profile of what he is looking for." Unless he's not very picky after all or took an interest in Rowan when he saw him discover the body. Cris fiercely pushed the thoughts aside. "It also seems likely that you would know if he had still been there." Unless he was a supernatural hunter as well. The thought of a human murderer did not scare him overly much but this person had killed a vampire; it seemed likely that the killer was one of their own. It would not be the first time nor would it be the last. For a supernatural psychopath there was very little challenge in hunting lesser prey.
Cris looked up, leaning forward to see Alfarinn to the door until the man gestured him back to his seat.
"Thank you." He echoed Rowan's earlier gratitude. "We will have to invite you to the next drunken revel with Eiryk and Alex." Cris told his friend and then smiled down at Rowan. [So long as he's on our team. That man could drink us all under the table.] Alfarinn took his alcohol seriously and faced any drinking wager as if he were going to battle. When Cris considered that most often Alfarinn's drinking partner was his friend Bellazone the stubborn attitude seemed perfectly reasonable. He had seen the aftermath of their drinking pranks and each time he was glad that deep sleeping was not one of his own afflictions.
Frowning at Alfarinn's parting remarks, Cris made a disgruntled harrumphing noise but did not actually voice any words of disagreement to the Elder's statement. His friend knew him quite well and if he didn't have Rowan here to put at ease then he would be doing exactly as Alfarinn had implied. However, he would not let Rowan to dwell on the things he had seen earlier tonight.
Looking down at his lover, he said. "Now tell me in more detail about this loving me into oblivion that you have planned."
Alfarinn was watching him; Cris tried to stare calmly back. He could not close himself off without his friend knowing why he had done it so he would just have to accept that Alfarinn could feel his weakness. He could at least put a serene face on it if he was going to be forced to acknowledge his worries. Sure enough Alfarinn told him that this situation was different than the one in the past that had been playing over and over in the back of his mind since Rowan had told him about the murder he had witnessed. [I keep trying to tell myself the very same things. When this ends with no incident then I might even believe the words.] He was frightened for Rowan and wanted to hold him all the tighter and not let him leave. Of course holding on too tightly was what had caused him trouble the first time.
He looked down at Rowan and smiled bravely for his partner's sake and nodded his head. "I can think of no reason why you would be of interest. For all we know there is some complicated process by which this person selects his victims. Its that way for many such killers. Therefore its unlikely that you fit the profile of what he is looking for." Unless he's not very picky after all or took an interest in Rowan when he saw him discover the body. Cris fiercely pushed the thoughts aside. "It also seems likely that you would know if he had still been there." Unless he was a supernatural hunter as well. The thought of a human murderer did not scare him overly much but this person had killed a vampire; it seemed likely that the killer was one of their own. It would not be the first time nor would it be the last. For a supernatural psychopath there was very little challenge in hunting lesser prey.
Cris looked up, leaning forward to see Alfarinn to the door until the man gestured him back to his seat.
"Thank you." He echoed Rowan's earlier gratitude. "We will have to invite you to the next drunken revel with Eiryk and Alex." Cris told his friend and then smiled down at Rowan. [So long as he's on our team. That man could drink us all under the table.] Alfarinn took his alcohol seriously and faced any drinking wager as if he were going to battle. When Cris considered that most often Alfarinn's drinking partner was his friend Bellazone the stubborn attitude seemed perfectly reasonable. He had seen the aftermath of their drinking pranks and each time he was glad that deep sleeping was not one of his own afflictions.
Frowning at Alfarinn's parting remarks, Cris made a disgruntled harrumphing noise but did not actually voice any words of disagreement to the Elder's statement. His friend knew him quite well and if he didn't have Rowan here to put at ease then he would be doing exactly as Alfarinn had implied. However, he would not let Rowan to dwell on the things he had seen earlier tonight.
Looking down at his lover, he said. "Now tell me in more detail about this loving me into oblivion that you have planned."
Rowan Murphy
13 years ago
Rowan smiled when Cris readily agreed with him. It was bullshit and they both knew it. Rowan was no innocent; he knew there was a chance he'd been spotted or drawn the interest somehow of a man capable of killing a vampire. He chuckled softly and ran his hand down Cris's leg, patting it reassuringly. It would be all right. Rowan had cut his fangs on would-be murderers. Pirates weren't the most peaceful lot and no matter how innocuous Rowan's job might have seemed at the time, he'd wielded a rapier with more skill than most of them. Granted this was not the same but he wasn't going to hide in a corner.
He nodded at Alfarinn, agreeing again with Cris's expression of thanks. [Maybe he'll need to be on his own team then,] he sent back to his boyfriend. [Surely four of us can drink him down.] Then he considered Alex. [Surely three of us can drink him down.] Then his lips quirked up and he arched his brows at Cris, clearly joking as he delivered his next line. [Okay. Eiryk and I.]
Rowan watched Alfarinn leave and turned to Cris with a soft correction. "Day after tomorrow," he said. "I believe you promised me the next day and a half."
Cris looked down at him and Rowan smiled up into that perfect face, trying to look far more assured than he felt. He knew Cris would worry and he didn't want him to. Not overly much. This was why he hadn't wanted to bring it home with him. Cris seemed ready to be distracted however, as much as Rowan wanted it.
He turned in Cris's arms so that he was facing his lover more fully while still leaning against him. "There was no plan, dear one. I thought maybe I'd just wing it."
Wrapping one arm around Cris's neck Rowan pulled him down to kiss him softly, savoring the feel of their mouths together, the light aftertaste of honey mead upon their tongues. He did want to lose himself in Cris, ever so badly. Months had passed and he felt no diminishing of affection. If anything his love had grown, to levels he hadn't thought himself capable of. There was no one but Cris for him anywhere, anyplace.
Rowan reached out and dipped his finger into his unfinished glass of mead. Slowly he drew a glistening line down the center of Cris's still-bared chest. Breaking away from Cris's lips he lowered his head and gently licked the little line of mead off of that fair skin. He glanced up when he was finished. "Would you prefer me to draw you an outline, or should I just continue to improvise?"
He nodded at Alfarinn, agreeing again with Cris's expression of thanks. [Maybe he'll need to be on his own team then,] he sent back to his boyfriend. [Surely four of us can drink him down.] Then he considered Alex. [Surely three of us can drink him down.] Then his lips quirked up and he arched his brows at Cris, clearly joking as he delivered his next line. [Okay. Eiryk and I.]
Rowan watched Alfarinn leave and turned to Cris with a soft correction. "Day after tomorrow," he said. "I believe you promised me the next day and a half."
Cris looked down at him and Rowan smiled up into that perfect face, trying to look far more assured than he felt. He knew Cris would worry and he didn't want him to. Not overly much. This was why he hadn't wanted to bring it home with him. Cris seemed ready to be distracted however, as much as Rowan wanted it.
He turned in Cris's arms so that he was facing his lover more fully while still leaning against him. "There was no plan, dear one. I thought maybe I'd just wing it."
Wrapping one arm around Cris's neck Rowan pulled him down to kiss him softly, savoring the feel of their mouths together, the light aftertaste of honey mead upon their tongues. He did want to lose himself in Cris, ever so badly. Months had passed and he felt no diminishing of affection. If anything his love had grown, to levels he hadn't thought himself capable of. There was no one but Cris for him anywhere, anyplace.
Rowan reached out and dipped his finger into his unfinished glass of mead. Slowly he drew a glistening line down the center of Cris's still-bared chest. Breaking away from Cris's lips he lowered his head and gently licked the little line of mead off of that fair skin. He glanced up when he was finished. "Would you prefer me to draw you an outline, or should I just continue to improvise?"
Christian Bern
13 years ago
Cris grinned as Alfarinn was placed on his own team and then frowned at Rowan when it was proclaimed that both he and Alex were no match for the rest of them. He gave his partner an innocent look and replied. [I should not try then. Perhaps I will simply be your chaperone to make sure you make it safely home and are tucked snugly in your warm little bed.] He was good at being the responsible one, the practical one, the dutiful one but within their small group of friends Cris had enjoyed simply being one of them, no different than the rest, so he knew that he would continue playing drinking games and staggering home with Rowan as many times as they all cared to do it.
His brow furrowed as his companion reminded him that he promised to take the days off with him and therefore not start working on finding out who this murderer was. "Rowan..." Cris sighed and glanced down at the notes that sat on the table and then back at the handsome redhead in his arms, his handsome redhead. He wanted to keep Rowan safe above all else but he also wanted to keep him happy. "I will send the picture Alfarinn creates to the other clans in the morning and then no more. I promise." He held his hands up in solemn surrender. "I am yours to do with as you please." And he hoped that it pleased Rowan to do a lot.
"The 'winging it' strategy is sometimes effective..." Cris spoke quietly and then said no more as Rowan pulled him down into his embrace. Some of the tension went out of him with that kiss, not all but some. He put as much of himself as he could into his response, hoping to drive the rest of the worry away by sheer will and physical desire.
His eyes followed Rowan's movements to the glass of mead and then back to his chest. Cris hummed softly as he felt his lover slowly lick the alcohol from his skin. A smile spread slowly across his features at the question Rowan asked him. "You seem to be doing just fine working 'off the cuff'."
Of course the phrase 'off the cuff' reminded him that Rowan was more dressed, or at least less exposed, than himself. Cris slid his hands beneath his partner's tee shirt and up his perfectly sculpted chest. He let them rest lightly there for a moment while he regarded his partner. "Do you wish to stay here or move upstairs?"
His brow furrowed as his companion reminded him that he promised to take the days off with him and therefore not start working on finding out who this murderer was. "Rowan..." Cris sighed and glanced down at the notes that sat on the table and then back at the handsome redhead in his arms, his handsome redhead. He wanted to keep Rowan safe above all else but he also wanted to keep him happy. "I will send the picture Alfarinn creates to the other clans in the morning and then no more. I promise." He held his hands up in solemn surrender. "I am yours to do with as you please." And he hoped that it pleased Rowan to do a lot.
"The 'winging it' strategy is sometimes effective..." Cris spoke quietly and then said no more as Rowan pulled him down into his embrace. Some of the tension went out of him with that kiss, not all but some. He put as much of himself as he could into his response, hoping to drive the rest of the worry away by sheer will and physical desire.
His eyes followed Rowan's movements to the glass of mead and then back to his chest. Cris hummed softly as he felt his lover slowly lick the alcohol from his skin. A smile spread slowly across his features at the question Rowan asked him. "You seem to be doing just fine working 'off the cuff'."
Of course the phrase 'off the cuff' reminded him that Rowan was more dressed, or at least less exposed, than himself. Cris slid his hands beneath his partner's tee shirt and up his perfectly sculpted chest. He let them rest lightly there for a moment while he regarded his partner. "Do you wish to stay here or move upstairs?"
Rowan Murphy
13 years ago
[Where's the fun in that?] Rowan shot back to Cris. He loved their amusing get-togethers with their friends. Whether they drank too much, too little, or just enough, any time they could all relax together was wonderful. Rowan and Eiryk had shared many memories together over the past few thousand years but never quite like this. Rowan was pleased that his memories from this point on would still contain his dear friend, but Cris (and, for Eiryk, Alex of course) had settled quite nicely into them and Rowan couldn't be happier.
He could feel the tension in Cris's body at his soft reminder that they were due some time together tomorrow. Rowan didn't take it personally; he was secure in Cris's love and never for a second thought that tension could mean Cris did not want to spend time with him. No, he understood his protective lover and he knew Cris had a driving need to throw himself into this new mystery. His voice saying Rowan's name was nearly pained. A promise was a promise, however, and even as Cris capitulated Rowan found himself doing the same.
"Get the ball rolling, love," he suggested. "Surely you can do it from here. You have a whole team of trustworthy minions who can sit in your office for you and wait for information if you like. The work can continue without you. If anything groundbreaking occurs I'll understand if you have to go."
He could deal with 'on call.' Rowan understood his needs couldn't always come first. Cris was an amazing partner, always doing his best to give Rowan all the time he could, working his crazy schedule around Rowan's equally hectic one. Rowan couldn't fuss if Cris were called away to deal with a matter of Clan safety. Selfishly, of course, there was a tiny part of him that wanted to cling and say, 'don't leave me,' but Rowan kept it silent. In all honesty, he didn't think there would be too many leads to follow in the next 24 hours. Such things took a little time.
During that time, it was his job and his pleasure to soothe his lover even as Cris's very presence soothed him. Cris's worry was nearly palpable; not because it showed terribly but there were subtle changes in him that Rowan noticed. Things that could only be noticed when one was intimately close to Cris, he imagined. Cris's kiss was slightly restrained and Rowan wanted to rid him of that worry. Nothing bad would happen to them, to him. Rowan was resourceful and canny, Cris was clever and vigilant. Between them they would manage to stay safe.
Ah... was it his imagination, or was that gorgeous slow smile a sign that his lover could, indeed, be distracted from worry tonight? Rowan gave a long, satisfied sigh at the feel of Cris's hands on his chest but pulled himself up from Cris's lap, catching both of his partner's hands in his as they emerged from beneath his shirt. He tugged Cris up with him, his eyes feasting on the sight of his boyfriend, suit disheveled, smiling like that.
"Let's go to bed," Rowan said, walking backward and leading Cris toward the stairs. Once there he kept hold of one of Cris's hands and turned to climb up to their bedroom.
He guided Cris to the bed and sat him down on the edge of it once they were there. Leaning down he brushed his fingertips gently down the line of Cris's neck and then kissed him softly upon the lips. Rowan pushed Cris's jacket and shirt off of his shoulders, his fingers skimming lovingly over bare skin as he did. "I didn't get to welcome you home properly," he murmured. "I'd like to make it up to you."
His eyes twinkled mischievously; Rowan was prepared to be quite penitent for his oversight. There were nights when he and Cris coupled frantically, desperate for each other and greedy in their urgency. Then there were nights like tonight when it seemed crucial to make it last a century or more, when gentleness and tenderness meant more than anything. He wanted to take his time like that tonight, to touch Cris and love him as sweetly as possible until neither one of them could spare a thought for weightier topics. Reality could crash back into them tomorrow. Tonight was theirs.
Straightening, Rowan stood between Cris's legs and pulled his shirt up over his head, feeling his muscles stretch pleasantly as he did. He suffered no concerns over his looks; Cris seemed to appreciate them and that was all that mattered. If his body served to help with the distraction, it was all for the better.
He could feel the tension in Cris's body at his soft reminder that they were due some time together tomorrow. Rowan didn't take it personally; he was secure in Cris's love and never for a second thought that tension could mean Cris did not want to spend time with him. No, he understood his protective lover and he knew Cris had a driving need to throw himself into this new mystery. His voice saying Rowan's name was nearly pained. A promise was a promise, however, and even as Cris capitulated Rowan found himself doing the same.
"Get the ball rolling, love," he suggested. "Surely you can do it from here. You have a whole team of trustworthy minions who can sit in your office for you and wait for information if you like. The work can continue without you. If anything groundbreaking occurs I'll understand if you have to go."
He could deal with 'on call.' Rowan understood his needs couldn't always come first. Cris was an amazing partner, always doing his best to give Rowan all the time he could, working his crazy schedule around Rowan's equally hectic one. Rowan couldn't fuss if Cris were called away to deal with a matter of Clan safety. Selfishly, of course, there was a tiny part of him that wanted to cling and say, 'don't leave me,' but Rowan kept it silent. In all honesty, he didn't think there would be too many leads to follow in the next 24 hours. Such things took a little time.
During that time, it was his job and his pleasure to soothe his lover even as Cris's very presence soothed him. Cris's worry was nearly palpable; not because it showed terribly but there were subtle changes in him that Rowan noticed. Things that could only be noticed when one was intimately close to Cris, he imagined. Cris's kiss was slightly restrained and Rowan wanted to rid him of that worry. Nothing bad would happen to them, to him. Rowan was resourceful and canny, Cris was clever and vigilant. Between them they would manage to stay safe.
Ah... was it his imagination, or was that gorgeous slow smile a sign that his lover could, indeed, be distracted from worry tonight? Rowan gave a long, satisfied sigh at the feel of Cris's hands on his chest but pulled himself up from Cris's lap, catching both of his partner's hands in his as they emerged from beneath his shirt. He tugged Cris up with him, his eyes feasting on the sight of his boyfriend, suit disheveled, smiling like that.
"Let's go to bed," Rowan said, walking backward and leading Cris toward the stairs. Once there he kept hold of one of Cris's hands and turned to climb up to their bedroom.
He guided Cris to the bed and sat him down on the edge of it once they were there. Leaning down he brushed his fingertips gently down the line of Cris's neck and then kissed him softly upon the lips. Rowan pushed Cris's jacket and shirt off of his shoulders, his fingers skimming lovingly over bare skin as he did. "I didn't get to welcome you home properly," he murmured. "I'd like to make it up to you."
His eyes twinkled mischievously; Rowan was prepared to be quite penitent for his oversight. There were nights when he and Cris coupled frantically, desperate for each other and greedy in their urgency. Then there were nights like tonight when it seemed crucial to make it last a century or more, when gentleness and tenderness meant more than anything. He wanted to take his time like that tonight, to touch Cris and love him as sweetly as possible until neither one of them could spare a thought for weightier topics. Reality could crash back into them tomorrow. Tonight was theirs.
Straightening, Rowan stood between Cris's legs and pulled his shirt up over his head, feeling his muscles stretch pleasantly as he did. He suffered no concerns over his looks; Cris seemed to appreciate them and that was all that mattered. If his body served to help with the distraction, it was all for the better.
Christian Bern
13 years ago
Cris looked petulant as he frowned stubbornly at Rowan. "I prefer not to use minions on things that are this important." And anything that concerned Rowan's safety, even with something that was simply a possibility of a threat was very important. In this matter he would be very involved and would do all he could to find this person before he harmed someone else, especially if that someone else might be Rowan.
Leaning to the side as if on the arm of chair, Cris cocked his head to the side. He stared intently at Rowan and arched one eyebrow while doing his best William Shatner. "Besides I am like Captain Kirk. I....must be...in...every mission. It is of the utmost...importance." Sitting up straighter, he mumbled under his breath. "Besides it is in my contract."
Squeezing Rowan tightly to him, he said. "I will look at the information MARI has from here in the morning. I can contract the other clans from here in my pajamas...it just means the video conference is out." He wouldn't have had a video conference anyway and he didn't wear pajamas.
Rowan stood and pulled him up as well. The smile grew wider on his face as he followed his partner up the stairs, watching with plenty of interest, lingering amusement and rising desire. He was seated on the bed and Rowan began to divest him of his already opened clothing.
He reached out and pulled his lover to him as Rowan pulled his own shirt over his head. Cris wrapped his arms around his companion and laid his cheek against the warm bare skin. With a small pleased sigh, he kissed Rowan just above his belly button and then leaned back on the bed supporting himself on his elbows. He watched his partner with interest and anticipation, waiting to see where the 'winging it' went next.
Leaning to the side as if on the arm of chair, Cris cocked his head to the side. He stared intently at Rowan and arched one eyebrow while doing his best William Shatner. "Besides I am like Captain Kirk. I....must be...in...every mission. It is of the utmost...importance." Sitting up straighter, he mumbled under his breath. "Besides it is in my contract."
Squeezing Rowan tightly to him, he said. "I will look at the information MARI has from here in the morning. I can contract the other clans from here in my pajamas...it just means the video conference is out." He wouldn't have had a video conference anyway and he didn't wear pajamas.
Rowan stood and pulled him up as well. The smile grew wider on his face as he followed his partner up the stairs, watching with plenty of interest, lingering amusement and rising desire. He was seated on the bed and Rowan began to divest him of his already opened clothing.
He reached out and pulled his lover to him as Rowan pulled his own shirt over his head. Cris wrapped his arms around his companion and laid his cheek against the warm bare skin. With a small pleased sigh, he kissed Rowan just above his belly button and then leaned back on the bed supporting himself on his elbows. He watched his partner with interest and anticipation, waiting to see where the 'winging it' went next.
Rowan Murphy
13 years ago
Cris's unexpected Shatner impression left Rowan laughing as they headed upstairs. There were always little moments like that with Cris that he loved. His sense of humor was normally very dry but on occasion there was a little bit of this playfulness to it which Rowan adored. It spoke volumes for his chances of successful distraction.
Up in their bedroom Rowan smiled happily as he was tugged close and hugged. Feeling Cris's face pressed against his stomach, Rowan shed his shirt onto the floor to be picked up later and wrapped his own arms tightly around Cris's slim shoulders. He felt the soft sigh upon his skin just before Cris's lips pressed against him.
Rowan watched as his partner leaned back onto the bed, loving the juxtaposition of the scene... Cris, half-undressed, half still in his suit. There was no one handsomer, Rowan thought. He knelt and gently removed his boyfriend's shoes and socks, setting them aside with far more care than he'd shown for his own clothing. He slid the hems of Cris's slacks up just a bit so that he could place a soft kiss above each ankle, and then let them fall again as he stood.
"Have I mentioned lately that I love how you take care of me?" Rowan let his eyes rest upon Cris's face as he climbed onto the bed on all fours, kneeling over Cris with an arm and a leg on either side of him. He leaned in and kissed his partner gently on the lips. "I might be the luckiest man alive."
He reached out one hand and touched Cris's chest, then dragged his fingertips down his lover's front until he reached the waist of Cris's slacks. "I'm happy I get the chance to take care of you, too."
Rowan made quick work of removing the remainder of Cris's clothing, taking the opportunity to slip out of his jogging pants as well. When that was accomplished he rejoined Cris on the bed. This time he leaned to the side and gently pulled Cris down with him, against him, curling around his boyfriend and embracing him once more.
"I love you," he said softly as he kissed the soft skin beneath Cris's ear. He let his fingers drift gently up and down Cris's side, diving in now and then to tease his abs, his thighs, and trace the slim yet well-defined muscles of his chest. He took his time; he didn't want this to end any time soon. He truly did want to love Cris until they were both blind to anything else. If it took all night and all morning to truly ease Cris's worries, Rowan was willing to be patient.
Up in their bedroom Rowan smiled happily as he was tugged close and hugged. Feeling Cris's face pressed against his stomach, Rowan shed his shirt onto the floor to be picked up later and wrapped his own arms tightly around Cris's slim shoulders. He felt the soft sigh upon his skin just before Cris's lips pressed against him.
Rowan watched as his partner leaned back onto the bed, loving the juxtaposition of the scene... Cris, half-undressed, half still in his suit. There was no one handsomer, Rowan thought. He knelt and gently removed his boyfriend's shoes and socks, setting them aside with far more care than he'd shown for his own clothing. He slid the hems of Cris's slacks up just a bit so that he could place a soft kiss above each ankle, and then let them fall again as he stood.
"Have I mentioned lately that I love how you take care of me?" Rowan let his eyes rest upon Cris's face as he climbed onto the bed on all fours, kneeling over Cris with an arm and a leg on either side of him. He leaned in and kissed his partner gently on the lips. "I might be the luckiest man alive."
He reached out one hand and touched Cris's chest, then dragged his fingertips down his lover's front until he reached the waist of Cris's slacks. "I'm happy I get the chance to take care of you, too."
Rowan made quick work of removing the remainder of Cris's clothing, taking the opportunity to slip out of his jogging pants as well. When that was accomplished he rejoined Cris on the bed. This time he leaned to the side and gently pulled Cris down with him, against him, curling around his boyfriend and embracing him once more.
"I love you," he said softly as he kissed the soft skin beneath Cris's ear. He let his fingers drift gently up and down Cris's side, diving in now and then to tease his abs, his thighs, and trace the slim yet well-defined muscles of his chest. He took his time; he didn't want this to end any time soon. He truly did want to love Cris until they were both blind to anything else. If it took all night and all morning to truly ease Cris's worries, Rowan was willing to be patient.
Christian Bern
13 years ago
Cris favored Rowan with a dubious expression when his partner asked if he had mentioned anything about Cris's boyfriend of the year award. Perhaps that was not how Rowan had phrased it but the point was that, according to his companion, he was doing a good job of taking care of his partner. He didn't think so. He worked long hours, he wasn't as romantic and sensitive as plenty of other people, he could be more social as well... Cris shook his head. "No, I do not think you have mentioned it lately but I am glad you think so." He decided Rowan was, as they termed it these days, 'low maintenance' if he thought that Cris was doing a wonderful job. He certainly tried though and perhaps that counted for something; so long as Rowan was happy then that was all that mattered. He would keep trying in his own way to be whatever his lover needed.
He melted into Rowan's kiss, finding that still more tension left him at the soft tender touch. Cris could almost forget that there was a killer out there that might have seen his beloved. He told himself once more that it was likely that Rowan was not of any interest to the man, if he even noticed him at all. There was nothing he could do until Alfarinn finished the sketch, in any case.
"You take very good care of me, Rowan." Cris watched the hand that slid down his chest. He took note of where it paused before looking up into his partner's beautiful green-grey eyes. "I have never been happier." The world was a different place with Rowan in his life. There was someone to wake up to, someone to laugh with, love, think about. There was someone who knew him well and still cared about him. With Rowan he even had other normal relationships, aside from Alfarinn and Aishe. Every part of his life was improved by having his redhead in it. Besides just being there for him, Rowan worked very hard to make sure he was happy and all of his efforts where very much appreciated. Cris still found himself still surprised by a cheerful lover waiting for him at the door, collecting him in his arms and soothing away the stress of the day. Such things were priceless.
The rest of his clothing had been removed and his companion slipped out of the last of his own as well. Smiling as he was tugged down against a naked Rowan, Cris answered his partner. "And I love you." He wiggled further back and nestled snugly in his lover's arms, sighing softly at the feel of Rowan's lips behind his ear. Cris closed his eyes and enjoyed the feel of his lover's hands moving along his skin. "very much."
He melted into Rowan's kiss, finding that still more tension left him at the soft tender touch. Cris could almost forget that there was a killer out there that might have seen his beloved. He told himself once more that it was likely that Rowan was not of any interest to the man, if he even noticed him at all. There was nothing he could do until Alfarinn finished the sketch, in any case.
"You take very good care of me, Rowan." Cris watched the hand that slid down his chest. He took note of where it paused before looking up into his partner's beautiful green-grey eyes. "I have never been happier." The world was a different place with Rowan in his life. There was someone to wake up to, someone to laugh with, love, think about. There was someone who knew him well and still cared about him. With Rowan he even had other normal relationships, aside from Alfarinn and Aishe. Every part of his life was improved by having his redhead in it. Besides just being there for him, Rowan worked very hard to make sure he was happy and all of his efforts where very much appreciated. Cris still found himself still surprised by a cheerful lover waiting for him at the door, collecting him in his arms and soothing away the stress of the day. Such things were priceless.
The rest of his clothing had been removed and his companion slipped out of the last of his own as well. Smiling as he was tugged down against a naked Rowan, Cris answered his partner. "And I love you." He wiggled further back and nestled snugly in his lover's arms, sighing softly at the feel of Rowan's lips behind his ear. Cris closed his eyes and enjoyed the feel of his lover's hands moving along his skin. "very much."