summary: Prompt from Emerald: Vorador/Janos, water play, pain and pleasure. This was meant to be PWP believe it or not. God knows what happened to that idea. Grr.
Disclaimer: Legacy of Kain belongs to Edios and
Part: One of One
Authoress note: Another Prompt from Emerald: Vorador/Janos, water play, pain and pleasure.
This was meant to be PWP believe it or not. God knows what happened to that idea. Grr.
For all my reviewers, who without I would have surely given up a long time ago.
The bathing chamber in Janos’ Aerie was as opulent as the rest of his home.
Cool floors covered with thick carpets that could somehow withstand the tough feet of the vampire. Shelving lined a wall, filled with thick towels and bottles of different oils. Some oils for hair, some of them for skin and some for feathers. The waterproofing qualities of the oils used on the wings were invaluable and thus a large shelf was occupied with these bottles. For water logged wings were heavy and would not lift a vampire and a grounded vampire was never a happy one.
It was a small pool and from the observers point of view it looked to be about chest height with room perhaps to do a few breast strokes across. But then everything in the aerie was reasonable in size, it had to be, for the ancients could do more than stretch their arms out, they could stretch wings out as well. Wings large enough to lift six feet tall men packed with muscles and hollow bones.
Janos smiled to himself as he lowered himself into the steaming water. Heated by ancient magic and kept soft by old potions. He could be hedonistic when he wished to, and usually was when it came the baths and fledglings. Yes fledglings or rather fledgling, just one but his one was more than enough. He would be a poor liar if he denied his reactions to his fledgling and so he never did. Vorador had held his attention long before they had become blood related, and since the sharing of blood Vorador has come to occupy a large portion of his life and thoughts.
Even now Janos could remember past baths that had only encouraged his hedonistic tendencies to both baths and fledglings, despite the fledgling in question being human at the time. He remembered as a reward for creating a weapon of such beauty and efficiency showing the mortal to the high hilltops that were in fact long dormant volcanoes. Here hidden in strange places were pools heated by the eternally hot molten rock hundreds of meters beneath the surface. The levels of sulphur could be dangerous in some of the pools but Janos always knew which to avoid and which were safe for taking such simple pleasure.
The afternoon had been one of simple pleasure teased by pleasure of a different nature. Even then there had been a hunger between them, Janos had refused to indulge it; Vorador at that point had had a wife and a child, while Janos had his duty and his war to contend with. Indulging in such hunger could only cause problems; however they were problems he had almost invited when Vorador’s hand had brushed his thigh and the mortal’s heartbeat had quickened before a hasty half silent apology was made. Janos had smiled and placed his hand over the mortal’s own and had spoken soft words trying to ignore the ever increasing heartbeats of the mortal next to him and the warm spiced scent of want coming from the man.
They had left the pool shortly after, both returning to separate lives but the scent and sound of the self-restrained mortal had stayed with Janos for many nights after. In the following nights his own hand would become warmer in his imagining, developing fingers and calluses, and moving with a rough uncertainty but a hunger that matched his own. More than once Janos found his completion in the arms of an imagined mortal.
It was hard after such nights to go down to the village and see Vorador working in his forge, hard to keep a cool head. It hurt him to do so, to watch strong mortal muscles lift and bend heavy metal to their will and know he would not be able to have him the way he wanted. It was pain but it was also pleasure and there were so few pleasures in the world anymore that Janos found he could not deny himself the pleasure of seeing and speaking with Vorador even if it caused him pain to do so, for it was a pain that he loved.
But life went on as it always does and the war grew in ferocity, many suffered during the days that followed, none so much as Janos’ mortal friend. Vorador’s wife and child became what the leaders of the war effort called collateral damage. They were only humans, short lived and over populous, they could be replaced. But as Janos sat with Vorador on the death watch of his family he learned that the leaders were wrong. The mortals who died could no more be replaced than the ancients who fought the war. Time gained a different meaning in the months that followed, Janos’ time was broken up between meetings with council and visits to his mortal companion.
It was over strong liquor that it happened the first time.
Janos had entered Vorador’s home as was his habit around dusk and with a short look at the forge that had not been lit since his wife had died moved further into the home. There was no one inside the first few rooms but Janos soon found Vorador in the kitchen, the battered tin bath had been pulled down and water heated although by now it had gone cold. Janos sighed when he saw the bottles littering the floor and wondered briefly where his companion kept finding the liquor to drown his sorrows considering he had stopped working months ago and only ate because Janos brought him food.
Briefly Janos thanked his God that Vorador had not drowned himself in the bath having almost passed out. He moved to lift the inebriated mortal out of the now freezing water; Vorador tried to help but only really caused more difficulty. Janos eventually managed to get his friend dry and sat at the small table, where he was now trying to sort out the food he had brought.
“Why on earth were you in the bath?” Janos managed after watching Vorador put down a few spoonfuls of broth.
“Remembering,” Vorador had answered, his words becoming less slurred the more he ate. “Remembering when you took me up the mountains.” Janos felt his face heat up, he too had fond memories of that time if they were a little strained.
“Yes I remember.” He nodded, “that was quiet a time ago.”
“I would like to go again.” Vorador didn’t look up from his food, his skin was flushed. Janos swallowed,
“Then we will, but you will need to eat better and gain strength before you could make that climb.” Janos muttered,
He was briefly considering dipping into his still woozy companions mind to try and discover the meaning of bringing up that trip now after so long without a word. But guilt stopped him; he couldn’t invade another’s mind without permission it would be like rape. But his curiosity and confusion was growing within him, he let lose a small fragment of magic and simply brushed over his companions thoughts.
He was shocked by what he found there.
“Vorador,” he managed “you have lost someone dear to you, you are feeling alone it is not uncommon, but I cannot give you what you want.” Vorador was silent for a while after that. Digesting the words, his features changing between anger, loss and hope.
“Why?” he asked simply after a time, Janos sighed loudly, he had no real answer to that question. He wanted to, Vorador wanted to, it would not destroy a family that had already been destroyed and his part in the war was changing due to a prophecy that those with the ability to see had brought to them weeks ago. There was no real reason to say no anymore save from his own uncertainty.
“You know not what you want.” Janos said quietly “you are undecided.”
“Would a man yet undecided do this?” Vorador declared, skin flushed with emotion, he stretched, closing the space between them before Janos could react, and pressed chapped lips to Janos’ own, slack with surprise and kissed him hard. Janos pulled away, shocked and Vorador continued to reach for him for a few moments before falling back. The mortal was red, his features a mixture of embarrassment, want and alcohol.
“why.” Now it was Janos’ turn to utter the word.
“I’m not sure.” Vorador answered “the moment I saw you ... and then ...Ever since I haven’t been able to stop thinking of you.” Vorador met Janos’ gaze then and Janos knew that this was no illusion, no alcohol induced want he could practically hear the mortal’s thoughts screaming at him, along with his heart beat and he could smell the want, strong over the smell of alcohol. He leaned forwards and both were lost to each other.
Janos had taken deep breaths to try and calm himself. Vorador was no innocent but any real reciprocation might still scare him away. But it was difficult to resist touching the slim but powerful body, muscled slightly by his work and tanned from hours spent in the sun when not in a forge and currently glowing with passion. He could hear the heartbeat of the one beneath him, hear it as it quickened at the sight that was proof of Janos’ attraction and his own skill. When Vorador’s lust dilated eyes met his and the mortal whispered words of want to him Janos was only too happy to obey them.
Those memories came back to him now while he lay in his own bath. Baths seemed infinitely connected to Vorador for him now, probably why he enjoyed both of them so much. Even after he had turned Vorador, -an accident of love and lust- he still wanted to take him in the water. But Vorador seemed to be developing an allergy for want of a better word. Water burned his skin, causing at first red marks, then welts and finally 1st degree burns before evaporating the skin completely.
It was a loss but one that Vorador seemed almost oblivious to, he still pounced on his maker while the elder bathed, giving himself burns that only seemed to increase his body’s tension and longing. Janos smiled to himself feeling the memory and knowledge harden him. He could hear Vorador moving around down in the lower levels of the aerie and smiled widely to himself. Standing and walking from the pool he reached for a towel then discarded it, walking dripping through the hallways to where he could hear his fledgling.
“I thought I could hear you upstairs.” Vorador smiled when Janos entered, still dripping, into his room.
“I waited for you.” Janos smiled a little watching the open shirt slide from his fledgling’s shoulders as he approached.
“You’re not very patient then are you?” Vorador pressed himself to his damp maker and hissed as the moisture burned his skin. The sensation although one of pain inspired thoughts of want and lust in him and thus pain became pleasure and he pressed himself firmer against his father, writhing as the sodden wings brushed his arms and burns followed.
It was pain but it was a pain he loved and his hardened almost instantly. Janos purred feeling his reaction and trying to ignore the smell of burnt flesh and the guilt it brought out in him. Vorador truly loved this as did he and he would not take away what they both loved.
Not while it could still be so freely given.
Authoress note: All done.