Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The sheet barely covered him, and it surely didn’t cover Olrox. The vampire cared little if his body was on show; a part of Mizrak wondered if he didn’t secretly delight in showing his body in such a fashion. As if seeing him naked throughout their conversation would somehow damn him further when they’d already sinned. Mizrak sighed, a deep breath going through his nose as he reached down and grabbed the vampire's wrist pointedly. He tilted his head to see the amused glint in the vampire's luminous green eyes, the man released the sheet that he’d been about to shift in a bid to see Mizrak’s naked flesh.

“Don’t.”

Olrox smirked for having tested the man's patience, offhandedly remarking to the prudish monk. “I’ve seen all of you.”

“Then you shouldn’t need to see me again.”

Olrox huffed at the paltry argument, he pulled his hand back when Mizrak released his wrist. He stared at the man’s body, what he could revel in at least. It was a shame they hadn’t kicked the sheets to the floor when they were entangled with one another; if they had, he would have been able to take in all of Mizrak’s body for however long the man lingered in his bed. Though he supposed there was always a chance the man would simply put on his underwear, he’d done that before.

He stared into those brown eyes, which were giving him a challenging stare. Oh, how he delighted in that challenge. Mizrak was unlike any other mortal he’d met in the last decade; his passion, his fire, reminded him of what he’d lost. It was probably why he had such a hard time being in the monk’s presence, he made Olrox feel things that he’d sworn off never to feel again.

Staring back into that challenging look he countered. “I enjoy seeing beautiful things.” He saw how the man’s brow furrowed as he processed what he’d said, the man scoffed and twisted his head back to stare up at the ceiling. Olrox tilted his head curiously as he lifted himself up on his elbow to stare at the man, he caught the brief glance that Mizrak gave him before he stared once more up at the ceiling. “You don’t believe me, do you?”

“About what?” Mizrak sourly replied, prepared for some manner of teasing.

“That you’re beautiful.” Olrox hummed when Mizrak snorted. “But you are.” He reached out and stroked his hand down the man’s face, his fingertips trailing through his beard. He smirked when Mizrak jerked his head away to avoid his touch, sparing him an annoyed look for the intimate touch. “Why would I lie?” He questioned.

“To suit your lust.”

“I have plenty of things that do that, you’ve inspired such things in the past...But that’s not why I said you’re beautiful.” He got a noncommittal grunt. “I’ve seen many people throughout my time on this earth, all walks of life, all heritages and races...True beauty is rare. The beauty of the masses is often boring, tedious to someone like me.” He got a bored hum from the monk. “People like you, however, are a different sort of beauty.” He nodded when Mizrak glanced at him. “You’re handsome, I’ll not deny that, Mizrak. I find you quite attractive, but that’s not why I find you so attractive.”

Mizrak sighed, despite knowing he shouldn’t he asked. “Then what makes me beautiful?”

Olrox stared back at those bored eyes, no doubt the monk was expecting some teasing comment, some barb meant to rile him. “Your passion.” Given the frown that caused the man didn’t know what to do with that. “Your fire, that determination and deplorable faith of yours.”

Mizrak huffed and couldn’t help but point out the discrepancy in that. “You hate my faith.”

“I believe your god is a nuisance more than anything, but your faith is unwavering despite my many comments,” Olrox stated with a grin. “Your god is as useless as the rest, but you hold true to that belief. Despite all this darkness around you that seems to be allowed by your god, you still pray to him, hell, you mocked me by saying you prayed for me.” Olrox chuckled at the very thought of that, the idea that the monk lying naked beside him had dared to pray for him.

“I did pray for you.”

Olrox blinked. He hadn’t really accounted for that. “Why?” He scowled. “What possible purpose could that serve you?”

Mizrak smirked at the now flummoxed vampire. “It wasn’t meant to serve me, it was meant to serve you.” The vampire scoffed, so he added. “I’m still uncertain of it, if it exists, though I pray it does...If you do have a soul, it should find peace.”

“And you prayed for this peace?”

“For you, yes. I’ve prayed for peace many times, throughout my life.” He admitted freely. “Sometimes peace isn’t so easily found, we have many trials ahead of us, and I don’t disparage god for that fact or that I’m finding it hard to rest. I know that we will win, whether I’m there to see it or not is up to god.”

Olrox narrowed his eyes at the man and his lax attitude towards his fate. “You believe you’ll die?”

Mizrak shrugged. “It’s not up to me, I don’t intend to, but one never intends to die, do they?”

“No, not normally.”

Mizrak nodded his head accepting the curt answer. “God will decide when it’s my time, until then, I will continue to fight.”

Olrox sighed and muttered. “Despite how I loathe this representation of this, this does prove my point.”

“Oh?”

Olrox nodded his head and stared back at the monk with a cunning grin. “You’re beautiful.”

Mizrak huffed. “Because of my faith, something you do not believe in.”

“Among other things, but yes.”

Mizrak hummed as he appraised the vampire; he appeared not to be teasing him in that instance, but it could be hard to tell sometimes. He cattily replied. “And I suppose you’d prefer if I renounced my faith and willingly fell into sin with you.”

“You already sin with me.” Olrox countered with a chuckle, he’d heard far too many times from the monk how what they did was a sin. “That is nothing new, but, no, I do not want you to renounce your faith in that paltry god of yours.”

That was admittedly surprising. “Why not? You don’t believe in him or his power.”

“But part of your allure is that you do.” Olrox countered. “You have that blind faith in something, you truly believe that this path is right and this infallible god of yours will save us all, and I’ll not deny you that. Do I argue whether or not your current path is true, of course, but that is not because of that god of yours. It has more to do with the darkness we’re surrounded by.”

Mizrak hummed, he supposed that was true, he couldn’t recall Olrox actually stating that god didn’t exist, he just argued his effectiveness and whether his faith served him well or not. “You spoke of your gods, that there were many.”

“There were.”

“But you don’t believe in them any longer.”

Olrox shrugged his shoulders aloofly as he stated. “Time tends to bring clarity.”

“And this clarity told you that your gods didn’t exist?”

Olrox hummed thoughtfully. “More than they cared little enough to do something, I know gods exist, Mizrak. I’ve seen quite a few of them, it’s all a matter of whether they’re worthwhile that matters.”

“There is only one god.” Mizrak glared at the vampire who would dare to say that he’d seen gods as if they simply walked the earth.

Olrox smirked at the man’s conviction in that. “My people believed in such terrifying gods, things that would make you tremble to behold.” He stated in an almost wistful tone. “Great creatures that could strike down our enemies, we honored them, devoted to their desires. We prayed just as religiously as you do now, more so, I think, given what lengths we went to honor them.” He chuckled a bit as he recalled his people’s ways. “But, in time, with this new life, I learned how foolish we were. My people’s damnation came on the ships with white sails, with the pestilence that they brought with them. Our belief that our gods would intervene was our downfall, we might have been able to act under our own power if we’d taken notice of how ineffective our great gods were.” He got a hum from Mizrak, the monk considering what he’d spoken.

“The bible speaks of these false gods.”

“I’m sure it does,” Olrox stated in amusement, going on to explain. “Many religions have sought out to damn the others, yours, more so.” The glare that spurned had him stating honestly. “But I can’t fault you for your faith, I find it...Oddly endearing.”

“Endearing?” Mizrak replied in a critical tone.

“Yes, endearing,” Olrox smirked at the man who was laying naked before him, his modesty only saved by the thin sheet between them. “You follow your faith without question, you don’t waver despite the proof that there are other things just as powerful as that great god of yours.”

“Nothing is as powerful as god.”

Olrox hummed, challenging the man. “Then why hasn’t this great god of yours stepped in to stop this madness, as you put it?” He saw how the man clenched his jaw, he’d struck a nerve. “I suppose there’s a reason for all things.” He settled, not wanting to ruin his time with the monk, he’d leave sooner or later, and more often than naught, it was from discussions like this one. The discussions were where he challenged the monk to see things from a different perspective than his fog of faith.

“God works in mysterious ways, it’s not my place to decide what is right and what is wrong in how he conducts Himself. I’m a servant of god, I follow his teachings, and I will for the rest of my life.” Mizrak stated firmly.

Olrox would have laughed at that, but he saw how firmly set the monk was, so he settled for smirking. “Of course.” He knew the man knew he was placating him, but neither one of them commented on that fact. Mizrak scowled up at the ceiling once more, probably deep in thought about his faith now that Olrox had questioned it.”This is what I meant.” When Mizrak scowled before looking at him, Olrox waved at the man. “This passion you have, for your god, your purpose. I have seen how you carry yourself against the darkness, you’re unwavering despite me sensing fear in you a few times.”

“All men have fear in their hearts, we are mortal.” Mizrak frowned before questioning. “But I suppose you’ve lost that.”

Olrox tilted his head, his hair sliding off his shoulder. “Fear?” He got a grunt. “It’s not something I feel in general, I’m careful in how I interact with others. I know older beings than myself, and although I wouldn’t say I fear them, I’m wary of their presence.”

Mizrak looked back up at the ceiling and, after a moment, questioned. “How old are you?”

Olrox had wondered how long it would take for this question to pop up, but Mizrak had never seemed to care. “Are you sure you wish to know?”

“Vampires are timeless, I know this well,” Mizrak stated. “The Belmont boy complained about Alucard’s age, something about him having too high expectations given his age when Alucard is so old.”

Olrox chuckled upon hearing the Belmont boy’s complaints about Alucard, no doubt the Damphir had been lecturing the boy on being more devote to his own abilities. He questioned, curious. “And did Alucard say how old he was?”

“The Belmont boy said three hundred years.” Mizrak’s brow furrowed as he recalled that conversation. “That doesn’t seem possible...But Alucard didn’t deny it.”

“Well, he has no reason to deny it. He is that old.” He enjoyed how Mizrak glanced at him in shock, and he nodded. “He is.”

Mizrak swallowed. “That seems...Impossible.”

“We’re timeless, Mizrak. Time is...Fluid to us.” Olrox reached out and trailed his hand down the man’s cheek. “Mortals' lives are short, a fleeting thing to us.” He pulled his hand back when Mizrak scowled at him, either for what he’d said or because he was touching him so intimately. “As for me...I’m younger than Alucard.”

“But still old.”

“Old enough.” Olrox teased with a fanged grin.

“But not old enough to stop this.”

Olrox’s grin faded. “No.” He shook his head in agreement as he stated somewhat bitterly. “That is beyond my power...If it wasn’t, I would have been done with this long ago.”

Mizrak huffed in amusement at the vampire's confidence, his pride that he alone could do something if he were only a bit older, all the while acting as if this dark war they were entangled in was a bother. “You act as if this is all the more bothersome than a threat to the world.”

“To a vampire, this is tedious.”

Mizrak grunted as he accepted that fact. “You vampires are deceiving, I knew this well, but seeing Alucard, you...It’s strange to know he’s truly that old.” He frowned before stating. “To me, you don’t look past twenty-five.” The vampire laughed, he blinked, both for having made the vampire laugh something he’d never done before, and for the fact that he marveled at its beauty. Though he did question if what he’d said was an insult to the Aztecs. He hummed. This was all a rather trying conversation.

“Twenty-five.” Olrox grinned at the notion. “My appearance might be so, but I was twenty-three when I changed.” Mizrak nodded his head, accepting this update in information. “I’m two hundred and eighty years old.” He did so love the shock that crested Mizrak’s features. He raised a brow when Mizrak sat up on his forearm to stare at him with a peculiar expression. “What?”

“It’s...It’s an inconceivable amount of time...Seeing you as you look now.”

Olrox nodded his head, aware that this was startling to the mortal. “I’m sure to you it is.” He tilted his head curiously and questioned in a teasing tone. “And how old are you?”

Mizrak snorted at the man’s taunting, they were both distinctly aware of just how ‘young’ he was in comparison to the vampire. “Does it matter?”

“Hm...No, but I do find myself curious now.”

Mizrak was quiet for a moment, considering things a moment. He wasn’t sure what Olrox would say when he heard his true age, what taunting or jeering he might be subjected to, but that open curiosity had him sighing out a soft. “Twenty-seven.”

“And you look so young,” Olrox smirked when Mizrak huffed amid rolling his eyes as he fell back onto his back onto the bed, clearly put out for his taunting. Olrox stared back at him in amusement for having riled the monk. “Though that does make me wonder, that beard of yours makes you appear older. I do wonder sometimes...What you’d look like without your beard.”

Mizrak laughed, he didn’t see how that caused Olrox to jerk back in surprise, the vampire had righted himself as Mizrak twisted his head to grin as he told the vampire with a chuckle. “Horrible if you must know.”

“Horrible?” Olrox was quite pleased by the man’s loud rebuttal.

“I must look...erm, nothing more than twelve without it. Far too young to be carrying about a sword, I’ve only shaved it once, and I regretted it dearly.”

“Oh?”

“The other monks gave me hell for it, but I was burned one time, and removing my beard was the best way to ensure it healed well.”

Olrox blinked at the shocking news. “You were burned?” He got a nod, he frowned as he stared at Mizrak’s face, there was no trace of an injury. The human was as handsome as ever, certainly, he didn’t appear to have suffered from a burn to the face. “I can’t see a trace of that upon your flesh.”

“My beard filled back in, but it was quite a while before it covered up what remains.” He tilted his head up at a high arch and reached up to trail a small patch of skin beneath his jaw. “That’s what’s left to see with my beard.” He blinked when his chin was grasped, and Olrox leaned closer, very close, inspecting the scar he had. He swallowed tensely, uncertain of this closeness, more so since the vampire was so near his neck. Yet, he stilled himself, allowing the vampire to peruse his flesh and the scar that had been left behind.

“And how’d you get burned?” His eyes narrowed at the thin patch of flesh, the trail of flesh that was slightly different than the rest of the man's skin. He sat back, releasing the man’s chin as he awaited his answer.

Mizrak swallowed a tad, unsettled by such an intimate touch that hadn’t resulted from their sinning. “We were dealing with some hostile men who had taken some woman hostage in some bid to be granted clemency for their actions. One of them toppled over a brazier, which was above me. I foolishly looked up when I heard it and was doused in hot coals.”

Olrox nodded his head as he took that in. “I take it that they found no clemency?”

Mizrak snorted. “They found a sharp end of a sword, the woman was retrieved and sent home safely...It took quite a while to heal from that.”

“How old were you?”

“Hm...Twenty? Something like that.”

“And is that the only injury you’ve faced as a warrior monk?” Olrox teased, he knew it wasn’t, he’d seen the other scars on the young mans body but he was curious to know what the man found as noteworthy. He was curious about them all, but he knew from experience that he could only push the monk so far and their intimacy was easy to have broken.

Mizrak snorted, not buying into the man's taunts as he knew Olrox had seen all of him. He held up his hand to the strange star-like scar in his palm. “I caught a crossbow bolt.” It was rather amusing to see the vampire's bright green eyes widen, his hand was taken, and the man appraised the scar that went through one side of his hand to the other. The narrowing of the man's eyes had him looking away, it was far too...tempting to see concern on the man’s face. What this was between them had no name; it wasn’t easy to quantify into something recognizable. He just knew that it was sin incarnate and that he was just as much to blame as Olrox was. Seeing that concern, that emotion that was spared towards his pains, it made a part of him ache uneasily.

“And did that man meet with your sword?”

Mizrak was jarred from his thoughts at the question, he looked back at the vampire who was surprisingly still holding his hand. “Yes. He’d intended the bolt to hit me in the chest, I got my hand up and blocked it.” The vampire hummed and he shivered a bit as the man’s finger trailed the edges of his scar tickling his hand. “What of you? Any great battle scars?” He taunted in the hopes of ending this strange perusal of his body.

Olrox smirked back at the human. “I don’t have any battle scars, I was not a warrior monk.” He threw back at the man in amusement. “But I do have a scar on my leg.” He saw the man glance down, and he raised his leg a bit and twisted it to show the back of his calf. He watched on curiously as Mizrak sat up and reached out to trail his fingers across the small scar. “A fishing net was pulled too taut and ensnared me.”

“A fishing net.” Mizrak looked back at the vampire, he frowned before questioning. “Were you a fisherman when you were alive?” The man’s laughter had him sighing, by that he could guess the answer but he still prompted the vampire. “Well?”

Olrox shook his head, far too amused at the notion that he’d been a fisherman at one point. “No, simply too curious for my own good. I was young, and got in the way.”

Mizrak nodded his head, accepting the answer. It was so strange to learn these facets of the vampire's life. He lay back in the bed and warred with the truth that the vampire before him, this man who was so old, had lived a mortal life at one time. He’d been human, he’d had a soul, and although he had prayed to false gods, he’d been a pure soul. He frowned and looked at the vampire who was silently watching him. He sighed and looked back up at the ceiling, torn on what he should say, what was right, or what was meddling. It wasn’t his place to speak of the man’s people, he knew nothing about them. Even if he knew they’d prayed to false gods, the fact remained that Olrox still held some pride in his people, given how he talked about them. “Was it hard?”

“Hm? The fishing net? Yes.”

Mizrak smirked and shook his head. “No.” He chuckled when the vampire misinterpreted his question. “Leaving home.” He tilted his head towards the vampire, he saw the shift in his emotions on the man’s face. He was bringing up something painful by questioning this. Seeing that flit of emotion, he offered up his experience. “I only have the church, I don’t remember my parents or where we might have hailed from...I’ve never had a home or a people to call my own...With my vows, I never will.”

Olrox blinked, a tad saddened to hear that the man did not know what it was like to have roots, to have a home, or people to call his own. Those stupid vows he’d talked about were far more tedious than he wanted to admit them to be, but hearing that he had this lax acceptance that those vows would rob him of further connections angered a part of him. Wanting to quell that unsightly rush of emotion, he answered the man's earlier question. “Yes, it was hard. I tend to stay in my native homeland when not dealing with tedious business, as we’re invested in now.”

“Is it far?”

“Across the ocean.”

Mizrak nodded his head, accepting the distance. “I’ve never left this place; my travels with the church have all been within Europe.”

“I have traveled many places, one does when you have time for it.”

Mizrak huffed. “I suppose you would...Despite not having a home, I do not think I could leave here. I’m invested in helping the people, not invested so much in the places...Though I’ve seen some beautiful churches in my travels.” He glanced over at the vampire and questioned. “Did your great gods have churches?” The man smirked back at him and his taunt.

“No, we had temples.” Seeing the confusion, he explained. “Great pyramids of stone that went far into the sky, we gave offerings to the gods there. We prayed as a people.”

“God doesn’t take offerings,” Mizrak replied softly before admitting with a resigned tone of voice. “Though we honor his sacrifice in other ways, Something for which I fear would greatly amuse you.”

“Oh?” Olrox was quite intrigued if Mizrak feared his reaction, that he’d hesitate in talking about his great god when previously he’d spoken openly about him. This new hesitancy, his belief that Olrox would mock him, had the vampire quite curious. “And how is that? What facet of your god is so amusing?”

“It’s not, it’s sacred...But you’re a vampire and the symbolism.” Mizrak sighed and tilted his head to glower at the vampire, preparing himself mentally for the man’s response. He’d brought this upon himself for speaking of it at all, but a part of him wished to educate the Aztecs on god. “We have wine in church.” The man stared back at him in a bored fashion as if he should find that the funny part. “It is considered the blood of Christ.” He glared when Olrox began to laugh, despite its assault on his faith. Olrox’s laughter was pleasant upon his ears, and he couldn’t quite regret causing it by attempting to explain god.

“A-And does it taste like blood?” Olrox questioned with mirth, he loved the glare that sparked before the man replied.

Mizrak snorted. “None I’ve tasted, and I’ve bashed my mouth enough to know what blood tastes like.”

“Hm...It tastes different.”

“What does?”

“Blood,” Olrox explained to the confused monk. “It does not taste like blood to us.”

Mizrak blinked in surprise at hearing that, he supposed it was a tad foolish to think that blood would taste like blood to them...But then again, what he knew of them was mostly of them being of sin, devils in disguise. He still warred with such beliefs, more so now than ever before, as he’d fallen into Olrox’s bed time and again. Still, aware that he’d been mistaken in this, he questioned. “It doesn’t? What does it taste like? It’s sin incarnate, you’re taking a life.”

“It tastes sweet.” Olrox ignored the monk’s complaints about it being a sin or against god, he was far too used to the man’s sentiments of everything being a sin. “Like honey or chocolate, something that is altogether unnameable. It just...Is.” He reached out and trailed his fingers down Mizrak’s neck, smirking at how the man glared as he said in a light tone of voice. “Everyone has a small...Difference in how they taste. Something unique, something flavorful. Certain people taste better than others, drunkards tend to taste bolder, all that alcohol, or so I assume. Those on herbs used for medicine taste bitter to us, so we avoid the sick for this reason. The old taste...Well, old.” He chuckled dryly as he compared what that source of blood tasted like. “Something like an old wine, something aged, savored.”

“It’s blood,” Mizrak growled before snapping at the man who spoke so carelessly about the lives he’d taken. “And it’s a human life you’ve stolen.” He pushed himself up and twisted to leave, whatever companionable moment they’d had over with this discussion. He threw the sheet aside and prepared to dress, he grunted when warm arms wrapped around him and drew him into an equally naked body. He froze when he felt Olrox’s breath on his neck, The man kissed his neck, something he knew he hated. His shoulders tensed, bunching up as if to protect his neck from the vampire.

“I’ve often wondered what you’d taste like...But it’s not worth the risk.” He kissed the human's neck once more despite feeling how tense he’d gone upon feeling his embrace and his lips upon his neck. Mizrak hadn’t tolerated such touches in the past, always shrugging him off as swiftly as possible. He knew it was fear that saw him doing that, a misguided belief that Olrox would suddenly hunger too greatly for his blood. “I’ll savor you as I have you now, you’re a decadent feature of this bed.”

Mizrak frowned, he twisted his head, and questioned. “You want to bite me, but you won’t?”

Olrox wasn’t sure why he was so shocked by this, but he drolly responded. “I can control such urges, Mizrak, I’m not some mindless beast. I’d delight at getting to taste you, but I know you wouldn’t consent to such things. I’ll take you however I can have you and be content with that.”

“You couldn’t taste me, you’d kill me.”

Olrox snorted at the human's misbegotten belief that him drinking from him would suddenly spell his death. “The neck, maybe, but there are other places to bite that wouldn’t endanger you.”

That was news to him. Mizrak twisted more in the man's grasp to gain a better perspective on the vampire as he stated in a firm voice. “You’d still turn me, and I’d rather walk into the sun than be like you.”

Olrox smirked in amusement at the mans ignorance and stated. “My biting you wouldn’t turn you.”

“I-It wouldn’t?”

Olrox snorted once more before throwing out candidly. “If that was the case, you would have been overrun by us eons ago.”

“Then how?”

“That is not your concern.” Olrox leaned forward to chastely kiss the fleeing monk, it was nothing more than a gentle press of their lips together before he pulled back. “But I know you well enough, and I won’t fault you the fears you have of my kind...Truthfully, they won’t fail you in guiding you. I’m...An outlier.”

Mizrak hummed as he twisted back around and began to get dressed. “Because you haven’t killed me.”

“Yes.”

“Why haven’t you?” He twisted as he began to don his chain mail. He tried not to focus on the sight of the man’s naked body strewn out atop the sheet he’d used to keep his modesty. He did his best to avoid such temptations, not that it had helped him before. He’d already sinned that day, but there was no reason to remind himself of his shame by feasting on the proof of what had caused it.

“Because you’re worth far more than an easy meal.”

Mizrak frowned. What the hell did that mean? Sighing, he went about getting dressed, aware that questioning certain things might just result in a headache. Given the topic, he knew Olrox would avoid telling him why he thought such things. Then again, he’d said his perception of him as being beautiful had to do with his faith, so maybe that was part of it. He adjusted his sword at his hip, ensuring the belt was tight around his waist, before looking back at the vampire who had been watching him the whole time while lying naked in the bed. He clenched his jaw in the face of that beauty, that seduction that drew him in time and again.

“Until next time.”

Mizrak huffed and turned for the door, angry all at once at the notion that Olrox just assumed that he’d fall back into his bed. As if Mizrak had no restraint at all, that the temptation to sin would see him crawling back to the vampire. No matter how he hated it, how he chafed at it, he knew he had a hard time avoiding the vampire. Olrox sought him out in the wilds, taunting him about a variety of things, tormenting him with his allure. He blamed the vampire for everything, despite knowing he was equally to blame. The contradiction made his heart ache. As he stood before the door, hand on the handle, he stated in a firm tone. “You’re too prideful that there will be a next time.” His hand stilled on the handle from where he’d twisted it when Olrox called back.

“You’ll return.” Olrox’s voice crooned, a dark sweetness to his voice as he reminded the monk. “I’m far more than a temptation of your flesh.”

Mizrak glared and threw open the door to storm out, he shook his head as he walked to the door of the inn. It was his own fault for being entangled with the vampire. For returning time and again, for giving in to that lust...But just now, before they’d spoken of how the man lived. Their conversations about each other, of their lives, it had been...A thing of hope. Mizrak shook his head, such foolishness. He’d need to seek sanctuary in a church and pray; that might be the only way he could be rid of such sins. Olrox’s haunting words that he’d return had his hands clenching into fists, how hard he’d tried to resist the man, how he’d quested to stay away, but it wasn’t an easy thing to cast off the vampire. As much as he would have liked to say it was all a sin of the flesh, the man’s words were true; he found the man interesting, he wanted to know more about him, and so he returned to learn more...He let himself be tempted, let himself be lured into his bed with the promise of pleasure and secrets. This inn was sure to be his undoing; that vampire that he lusted for would take his life one day, and he feared the cost to his soul.

Chapter Text

“You better not track in mud.” Olrox teased as the man cursed as he wiped at his cloak upon entering the room, he sat reclined in his favorite chair reading a book as the man came stumbling in. It was pouring outside and he’d delighted in seeing the poor monk wandering in from the downpour. Now, he watched as a haggard Mizrak glared at him, Olrox tilted his head and once more demanded. “Take off your clothes.”

Sighing through his nose, Mizrak stated. “I did not come here to sin, I came to avoid the rain.”

Olrox raised a brow upon hearing this. “You came to avoid the rain?” He got a grunt as the man went about getting his cloak off. It was saturated, dripping onto the wooden floor, given the squelch of the man’s boots when he hung it up on the rack beside the door, it wasn’t the only thing drenched. Then again, from what he could see of Mizrak, all of him was dripping. Sighing, he muttered. “I believe this is how a plague started.”

Mizrak frowned. He looked up at the vampire and stated curiously. “A rainstorm?”

Olrox smirked at the man's confusion. “Drowned men too stupid to strip out of their sodden clothes.” The glare that garnered him tickled him quite well; anything that riled the monk was entertaining to him. “Well?” He waved at the bed. “Strip, and I’ll bring you a towel. I’ll not have you entering my bed soaking wet.” He wandered from his chair to the bathroom, a smirk on his face as he heard the man give a grunt of annoyance. He found a towel and entered the bedroom once more to see that Mizrak had taken off his boots and was in the process of removing his chain mail, he frowned when the man gave a grunt, just not a normal one, this wasn’t the grunts of frustration he was used to or the dismissive ones that begged him to shut up. This was... pain. He walked over just as Mizrak got the chain mail off himself. “You’re in pain.”

Mizrak panted from the effort of getting his chain mail off. He glared tiredly at the vampire. “I’m wet is what I am.” He growled as he went about taking off his weapons; everything clung to him like a second skin. He truly wasn’t looking forward to taking off his shirt, not with how it was plastered to him. Those pains he’d shielded beneath gritted teeth were nothing now that he’d exacerbated things. Breathing hurt enough, but moving about just made it like fire. He ignored it, he pressed on as that was how he knew how to deal with things of this nature. He dealt with his pants, nearly toppling over as he struggled with the sodden clothes.

“Use the fucking chair, Mizrak,” Olrox stated in a bored tone as he watched the man struggle with his clothes. He pointed to the corner when Mizrak looked up at him with a frown, he watched the man follow his finger before sighing. He shook his head in exasperation as the man walked over and sat down while struggling with his pants some more. He got them off, but the vampire's eyes narrowed as he saw how the man slumped back once he’d managed it. He was panting in short, quick breaths, and still wearing his sodden shirt. “I believe I made myself clear, and you’re still dressed.”

Mizrak glared at the vampire, he held out his hand. “Give me the fucking towel.”

Olrox huffed but tossed him it as he folded his arms across his chest, watching on as Mizrak set about drying his hair. “That’s the least wet part of you.” The small huff the man gave was proof enough that he agreed. “And you’re avoiding your shirt, why? Do you favor wet shirts? I won’t have that in my bed, so if you’re hoping of getting warm, I’d suggest you remove it.”

Mizrak snorted as he brought the towel away from his hair, his body singing of a deep, dark pain for the hard movements he’d given. Sighing, he looked down at the rim of his shirt. Did he bother? He could pass out in this chair, given how tired he was, his body weary and in pain. He was still leaving trails of water, though, and he wasn’t about to get warm if he left the drenched shirt on.

Sighing, he muttered a bitten-off curse as he gritted his teeth and reached down to rip his shirt up and over his head. He groaned in pain as the wet cloth resisted and took a harder movement that his body did not favor at the moment. He groaned when he was able to toss the sodden cloth aside and slump back in the chair with short, pained pants as his arm came up instinctively to wrap around his ribs.

He hadn’t realized he’d closed his eyes in his pained grimace until he felt a warm hand grasping his wrist to pull his arm aside. He opened his eyes and looked down to see that Olrox was crouched beside him, glaring at him, no, his ribs. He let his eyes trail to himself, he hummed at the dark coloring. He’d known, of course, the sensation of breaking ribs was something that you never forgot after you’d dealt with it once. “Pretty, isn’t it?” He joked with a tight, pained expression.

Olrox scowled at the deep bruising, it was made of deep purples and blues, staining the man’s honey toned skin with its dark blemish. Proof of the blood that had accumulated from his injury. The man’s pained noises made more sense now, he’d been struggling with this. He looked up upon hearing the man’s jest, he glared. “What caused this?”

Mizrak closed his eyes and shook his head. “Doesn’t matter.” He continued to grimace tightly as each breath seemed to radiate fire for him. He cried out in agony when Olrox placed his hand on his side. He lashed out, but the man caught his hand and just as he’d touched him, he pulled his hand back, seemingly content with his pained appraisal. “FUCK.” Mizrak groaned in pain, questioning in haste. “Why the fuck would you do that?!”

“They’re broken.”

“No shit!”

Olrox sighed at the man’s anger, it was rightful given what pain the man must be in. He glared at the offending sign of the broken ribs the man was suffering from. He released the mans hand when he tugged it from his hold, he glared as he watched Mizrak wrap it tenderly around his ribs as if simply cradling them would help the wound. He looked up at the monk but saw his eyes were clenched tightly shut as a pained grimace was on his face.

“Come to the bed, you can stretch out...It might help.” He stood and waited, but Mizrak didn’t seem capable of moving or perhaps just content to lounge in pain as he was. “Mizrak. You’ll be more comfortable in the bed.” He reached down and braced the man’s arm that had wrapped tightly around the arm of the chair, bearing down on it as the man's knuckles were white. “Come.” He gently lifted the man’s arm, pulling on him carefully but firmly, and nodded approvingly when Mizrak didn’t fight his suggestion but slowly rose with a pained noise.

He guided the man over to the bed and watched with narrowed eyes as the man made pained noises upon settling on the bed. Mizrak lay down, stretched out, but his arm was cradling his side where the dark bruising hid the ribs that had been broken. Olrox stood beside the bed a moment, a tad lost on what to do. He’d never had broken ribs before, but he’d seen the aftermath of it plenty of times. He’d seen the plaintiff pain humans toiled under just by breathing, given the hard pants Mizrak was giving, he wasn’t doing himself any favors.

“You need to slow your breathing.” The tight, pained expression Mizrak wore, his eyes being clenched shut, gave him no recourse as to whether he was being listened to. Given how his breaths didn’t decrease, he thought not. “Mizrak.” He laid his hand upon the man’s shoulder, gentle but firm. “Slow your breaths, you’re straining your ribs breathing that way.” He ground his teeth together when the man groaned, but didn’t seem to heed his advice for the pain he was already in. Something...Something deep inside him tore at this, at this vision of the proud monk being reduced to this pained wretch in front of him. He leaned over and kissed the man. Mizrak made a startled noise, but when he opened his eyes, Olrox said. “I can ease your pain, but only if you allow it.”

“H-How?” It was questioned through gritted teeth.

“I can lull you to sleep.” He saw the confusion there and said. “You’d go to sleep, you’d rest, your body could adjust to this...This.” He glared at the man's ribs a moment before looking back at the pained monk. “You wouldn’t feel anything until you woke. You’d be painless at least until then.” He feared the man would deny him, that he meant to deal with this agony on his own, to force Olrox to watch him writhe in agony, but he was relieved when the man nodded.

“Good.” He stared into the man’s pained eyes, and with a push of his own will, a deep crooning control of anothers mind he said. “Sleep.” Mizrak’s eyes fluttered a few times before they fell closed, the tight pose he’d adopted when cradling his ribs eased, slackened as he fell asleep. Olrox stared at him a moment longer to ensure that it had taken, but no, Mizrak was pulled under, deeply asleep by the power of his mind.

Sighing, he reached over and gently moved the man’s arm off his ribs. Anything that would help ease his pain would be good, and letting his arm rest on the damaged bones wouldn’t help. He let his arm come to rest at his side, leaving the man bare in his underwear, looking far more relaxed than he’d been mere minutes ago. There was no pain, no agony stretched upon his features now. Just a placid, relaxed expression as he slept under the power of Olrox’s command.

Olrox shook his head. He reached down and pulled the blankets up on the human. Normally, he delighted in seeing every aspect of Mizrak, but his eyes narrowed one last time at the man’s ribs before he gently covered them with the blankets. He felt little better for it, he knew what lurked beneath the covers. His eyes drifted back to Mizrak’s peaceful expression. He’d sleep for a few hours, but already his body was more relaxed. His panting breaths had evened, had slowed just as his heart had. Lulled deeply asleep, put to rest, and easing the strain on the man’s broken ribs.

He reached up and stroked the man’s face, his gaze conflicted. “Get some rest, it might not pain you so much when you wake.” He pulled away from the man, wandering back to the luxurious chair he’d been seated in before Mizrak stumbled in on him.

He sat with a dark glower on his face as he stared out the window at the darkened skies. Rain pelted the windows as a gust of wind rattled them. He reached out and picked up the wine he’d procured for himself. He took a sip of it, tasting its heady flavor before putting it aside. Olrox allowed his eyes to slide to the corners of his eyes to glance at the monk, but Mizrak was as motionless as he’d been when he’d lulled him to sleep.

He picked up his book and returned to reading, if there was one thing he could be thankful for it was that nobody liked the rain, not even false deities. Assured that he had nowhere to be, that he could rest in leisure, the vampire did his very best not to let his thoughts drift to the injured monk in his bed. He failed miserably.

Sighing noisily he lowered his book into his lap and glanced at Mizrak, how had he gotten hurt to such a degree? How could he just carry on wounded like that? He’d barely shown his pain until he was wrestling with his clothing, there had only been the barest of hilts in his movements, his body so stable in the face of such pains. He glared at the notion that he’d faced such pain in the past and thus he was accustom to it.

Mizrak’s chest was a veritable myriad of dark purples and blues; whatever had struck him had struck him hard, hard enough to break his ribs...And yet, Mizrak had refused to tell him what had happened. He’d shaken his head and dismissed it, as if it truly didn’t matter how he’d come to be hurt. His hand coiled tighter around his book as he remembered the pained expression the man had worn moments before he’d consented to him using his powers to put him to sleep.

How desperate he was to be soothed from that pain, their relationship was...Was something not spoken of, but Mizrak had never consented to any of his abilities before. He’d always scowled at him whenever he showed a hint of his supernatural gifts, but he’d been in such need of relief, of respite from the pain that he hadn’t questioned him further than what it would do to him. He’d taken Olrox at face value, trusted him, and he’d accepted that whatever Olrox did to him would be better than the pain he was presently in, and thus the reward outweighed the risk.

His vibrant green eyes stayed glued upon the man’s features, he shook his head and discarded his wine and book. He strode over to the bed and climbed onto it, careful not to strain the man or the blankets on him, he laid down laying upon his forearm as he stared at the resting monk.

This closeness didn’t soothe him, but it was better than the divide he’d felt from his chair. Here he could reach out and touch the monk, and he did. His hand came out to trail down the man’s shoulder, his arm, and to the hand that bore the star-shaped scar of the crossbow bolt he’d caught. He intertwined their fingers and said. “You were probably out doing something reckless, some fool hearty endeavor that you believed only you could achieve...Wasn’t one of those sins of yours vanity or was it pride?” He frowned before shaking his head. “Regardless, you’ve come to my door in this state...So...Damaged.”

His hand left Mizrak’s to gently peel the blankets back, his eyes tightened when he saw that he hadn’t been deluded, the bruising truly was that bad. He dared not touch it, even lulled to sleep, he knew Mizrak might feel it if someone touched such a wound. He dared not wake him when he’d promised him rest. He glared at the offending bruise, the proof that Mizrak was mortal, that his body was weak and frail. That it could buckle, it could break if the man wasn’t cautious enough, and he’d clearly not been careful enough to arrive at Olrox’s door injured as he was.

He’d said it was to get out of the rain, but was that true? Despite all his pains, the rain was what had disturbed him most. He frowned as he considered that the monk might have been seeking shelter for protection. He hummed at the thought, a far more likely outcome than his paltry statement that he was avoiding the rain. He’d protected Mizrak in the past, and weakened as he was now, the human had to know that he’d need someone to guard him while he rested...But how long did it take for a mortal to heal wounds like these? He’d never stayed around injured mortals for too long, and it had been too long since he was mortal to recall if he’d seen it then. Injured mortals were tedious and served no purpose for him, but Mizrak, however, served a purpose. He was his companion, his...He was his. He settled angrily, it didn’t matter what else they were. Mizrak was his to protect, and the human had come to him in a time of need.

His vibrant green eyes flitted up to the man’s lax features, he’d protect him, just as he had before. The threat here was minimal; no one came to visit him at the inn, and if he was needed elsewhere, he would have been told in advance. The chances of someone stumbling upon Mizrak in his rooms were negligible. To his knowledge, Mizrak hadn’t told any of his human counterparts about him or their relationship, so it was unlikely any human would turn up looking for him either. They were safe in their seclusion, just the two of them, and until he was well, Mizrak could stay. He’d see him grow strong again, resilient as he was used to seeing him. He’d see him back to that passionate soul, and not the glimpse of a devastatingly injured mortal. One that leveraged such a cruel, pain-filled glance his way, as if he’d silently begged Olrox to make it better. His powers were limited, though; he had nothing to heal this pain other than to keep him comfortable in sleep. As far as he knew, there was no treatment for broken ribs aside from time to mend them. He could distantly recall seeing a mortal with his chest wrapped; he wasn’t sure how that would help broken ribs, but if Mizrak needed bandages, he could get some.

He’d do what he could, which admittedly was not enough for the vampires' liking. He did not favor feeling powerless, it was something he did his best to avoid. His many years on this earth had granted him amazing gifts, powers that both defended him and made him feared...But none of those almighty powers could tend to this human who he...He cared for.

Olrox closed his eyes tightly and shook his head, he dared not think of what Mizrak meant to him. He’d sworn off such emotions, such...Desires. He was content with what they had now, assured that surely it could grow no worse. That his traitorous feelings for the man wouldn’t blossom further, no matter how many times they fell into bed together, no matter how many private conversations they held together. The secrets they passed to each other were not about the enemy, but about each other.

Taking a deep breath, Olrox opened his eyes and stared at the relaxed visage of the human he was steadily...Falling in love with. He ground his jaw together as he allowed himself to feel that. To feel the weight of those feelings, that truth, that horridly beautiful truth. He reached out and stroked the man’s cheek, gently embracing him. “It’s alright, love, you’re safe here.” A deep-seated pang in his heart feared that Mizrak would deny him this. If he’d give a rallying cry of not wanting such a thing with him, if he’d spew those hateful words to mask his feelings once more. He knew Mizrak felt something for him; why else would he return time and again? Why else would he speak in such hushed words about the things dearest to him? It wasn’t about the simple pleasures of their bodies anymore. That had faded, what they were now, whether Mizrak was prepared to admit it or not, was something far more complex. Despite still warring with his own sentiments, Olrox knew that he couldn’t deny himself the truth of wanting the human with him.

He pulled his hand back from Mizrak’s face when the monk made a tired noise and shifted his head, twisting it more towards the vampire. “Sleep, it’s not time to wake up just yet.” It had only been a few hours, and if Mizrak could rest a while longer than that was what was best. He stayed there, strewn out beside the monk, just staring at him while he warred with the notion that he loved this mortal. The war laid out before them brought new fears to mind; now it was broken ribs, but what if something else happened? Mizrak left his side, and he joined the other mortals in their fight against the darkness, but he was outside of Olrox’s gaze then. He couldn’t be with him all the time, which left this precious man outside of his protection, and that left him feeling a new sense of unease.

He’d lost so much in his life, both mortal and vampire, he didn’t wish to lose more. Mizrak was too special, too passionate, and vibrant to be lost to the darkness. He smirked as he recalled the impudent glare he’d given him when he’d quoted his precious bible the last time he’d fallen into bed with him; if looks could have killed, he would have been set aflame. They’d gotten into a delectable argument over interpretations of passages of the bible, one that may have led to Mizrak leaving in a huff, but he could tell in one brief moment of shock that Mizrak had been surprised and even somewhat pleased to note that he’d looked up something of his faith...Even if he’d used it to taunt him later.

Olrox’s hand shot out gently pressing upon the man’s sternum when he made to shift, to turn onto his side. “That wouldn’t be wise, love. Stay still.” The human made a soft noise but settled, and once he was assured that Mizrak didn’t intend to move, he released him. He watched over him, gently shushing him or ensuring he didn’t move his already pained body. He tilted his head, a fond smirk forming on his face when Mizrak’s eyes fluttered open. The man frowned, but before he could move, Olrox said. “Don’t move around, your ribs seem settled.”

Mizrak swallowed at the memory of the pain he’d been in; now, just the tendrils of flames licked at him. He carefully twisted his head towards the vampire. His arm subconsciously came up to brace his ribs gently. They stared at each other for a moment before Mizrak questioned. “Is that...Is that what humans feel when you entrance them to feed off of them?”

“Most don’t bother with it, but yes, if we choose to enthrall our prey, that’s what it feels like.” Olrox waited to see disgust or revulsion on Mizrak’s face, but instead he got a soft smirk. That was not what he’d anticipated. “This amuses you?”

“No.” Mizrak tiredly shook his head. “It’s not what I imagined...Though I suppose it’s foolish to imagine such things without proof. I simply knew you could bewitch people, not what it actually did.”

“Hm...We don’t consider it bewitching people, we’re not witches.”

Mizrak smirked at the man’s apparent need to distance himself from witches, as if that was some great insult to a vampire. “Still, it’s an odd thing to experience, though it did more than I expected.”

“Your pain has eased.”

“Some.” Mizrak glanced down at his chest. “This will pain me a while, but so long as I don’t move too vigorously, I can manage.”

Olrox’s eyes tightened at how careless the man seemed in the face of such a grievous injury. “You shouldn’t be moving about.”

“I cannot stay immobile, there are things to be done,” Mizrak stated softly, careful in how deep of breaths he took to talk.

“You cannot fight like this,” Olrox growled, his eyes glinting with a darkness to them as he stared back at the monk. “You can barely move.”

“I can move when given cause,” Mizrak told the vampire, taking in his anger, this strange demand that he do nothing, he looked down at his ribs. This was bothering Olrox. His injury angered him, but why? He looked back at those enraged, stunningly beautiful green eyes and said. “I’ve dealt with broken ribs before, I can manage.”

Olrox stared back into those brown eyes that seemed so at peace with the pain he was in. “How long will it take you to heal from this?”

Mizrak hummed a moment before stating. “Depends on how many are broken, how badly they’re broken...Given what I’m feeling, there has to be three or four. It should take about six weeks.” The horror that crossed the man’s face was amusing; he smirked and dared to state. “You didn’t realize how damaging this was, did you?”

“Six weeks,” Olrox replied softly before he gave a murderous look at the monk. “You cannot fight this way, Mizrak, your ribs-”

“I have fought before.” Mizrak cut off the worried vampire, and what a conflicting thing that was. To see such concern on Olrox’s face, such anger on his behalf. It...It echoed something inside himself, some deep, dark feeling that he’d tried to ignore these last many weeks. Something he knew was a sin; then again, everything he did with Olrox was a sin. Loving a man, lying in his bed, that was bad enough, but to do it with a vampire was a further insult to god.

Still, no matter how he’d tried, he couldn’t distance himself from the powerful vampire. Seeing this concern, this emotion from Olrox made his heart feel funny. His feelings for the vampire were complex, something he tried again and again to deny. He prayed often to repent for such a thing, but he’d found no peace for it. Seeing him now, that passionate compassion for his pain...He swallowed and, surprisingly, tried to reassure the vampire. “They’ll heal faster if I’m less vigorous, but I cannot promise such things given what we’re entangled in. As heavy as it is, the chain mail will help guard them.”

“That has to hurt.”

Mizrak gave a breathy huff, grimacing when it strained his ribs. “It does.” He gritted out as he steadied himself once more against the pain. “But it’s an odd comfort to have them embraced like that.”

“You didn’t favor my embrace.”

Mizrak gave a tired glare at the vampire for his haughty response, he snapped back at the man. “You pushed on them, that hurts.” He got a hum from the vampire. He lifted his other arm to wave at how he was cradling his chest. “Gentle pressure is fine, it helps to keep them from jostling.”

“Is this why some mortals wrap their chest?”

Mizrak blinked, surprised by the question. “Um...Yes. Where did you see that?”

“In my passing through various places,” Olrox admitted in disinterest. “I never understood its purpose, but your injury got me thinking.”

“Ah, well, yes...It’s similar to holding my chest as it is now or how it will be pressured by my chain mail. I’ll guard them as much as I can, and they’ll heal in time.” He could plainly see how that didn’t reassure the vampire. Olrox still appeared angry, he might have taunted him with that apparent concern, but...He stilled himself, those traitorous feelings for the vampire stilling his tongue. He let his head relax on the pillow and closed his eyes.

“Do you want me to lull you to sleep again?”

“Hm? No...No, I’m fine, just resting.”

“And there is nothing to help with this?” Olrox glared at the deep bruising, at the notion that Mizrak intended to return to the wilds to fight.

“You can put ice on it, but frankly, I doubt there’s much of that to be had at the moment.”

“No, and sadly, I do not have ice abilities.”

Mizrak smirked. He opened his eyes and looked down at the vampire. “You’d ice my chest if you had ice abilities?” The man paused, but then nodded. Humming, he relaxed once more and closed his eyes. “That would be something to see.”

Olrox smirked at the man admitting that he was curious how that would work. “I’m afraid my abilities won’t be of help with this...Not unless you care to share who caused this injury.”

Mizrak gave a light huff, grimacing at how it strained him. “What? So you could murder them?” Silence. He sighed. He opened his eyes to glare tiredly at the grinning vampire. “I’ll not consent to another's murder.”

“Even one who damaged you this way?”

Mizrak’s features tightened a moment before stating. “God will be punishment enough.” The paltry hum he got, the one that spoke of Olrox placating him while disagreeing with him, had him rolling his eyes as he once more relaxed. He smirked, and despite knowing it was a sin to be prideful, he stated. “Besides...I fare far better than he does.”

“Oh?” Olrox tilted his head, intrigued. “And how is that?”

“Well, I don’t think he’s going to be as fortunate as some of those abominations that can regrow limbs...That hand he lost won’t be returning.”

Olrox laughed at the man’s response. “I see...He’s missing a hand now.” He got a hum. “A fitting fate since he leveraged his fists against you.”

“It was his sword.”

“Pardon?”

“The hilt of his sword, that is what struck me. Steel is quite unforgiving that way...I don’t think he’d ever wielded a sword before, he surely didn’t know the consequences of trying to use one against someone who knows how to wield one.” Mizrak opened his eyes to stare at the ceiling. “He thought pain alone would be enough to see me losing the fight, that it would garner whatever coins I might have had on me.”

“But it wasn’t.”

Mizrak hummed and shook his head. “No, and with a sharp movement, that sword which shattered my ribs cut his hand clean from him. I broke his nose with its hilt to show him how easily things change hands, I left him in that field. I’m sure he won’t die of those wounds, but it will last him a lifetime.” He looked down when he felt Olrox’s fingers trailing the scar in his palm, something he’d taken to doing when they talked.

“A worthy punishment, then.” Olrox glanced up. “Since you see fit to give him mercy from me.”

Mizrak snorted and sassily replied. “I wouldn’t think one man so worth your time.”

Olrox hummed, looking down at Mizrak’s scarred hand, candidly stating. “Mortals in general aren’t worth my time, I’m too old to find them...Annoying enough to bother with.”

“And yet you promised this man death.”

Olrox paused; he had, but that stemmed from those feelings he couldn’t admit to the monk. So what was there to say? “I find it distasteful that it was a mortal who injured you.”

Distasteful. Mizrak blinked upon hearing that. “Somehow a night creature is more fitting?” He received an acknowledging hum. Mizrak smirked, despite the pain it caused him he chuckled, when the vampire glanced up to see his mirth he tilted his head and grinned. “I wasn’t aware that I was only allowed to fall in battle to a night creature.”

“You’re not allowed to fall at all, least of all to a human, let alone a night creature or vampire.”

That was news to him, but oddly...Heartwarming. Mizrak shook his head and quite indulgently stated. “Alright, I’ll keep that in mind.” The vampire narrowed his eyes at his taunting. “Though you realize that even if I were to promise you such outlandish things, it’s god who would decide my fate.”

Olrox huffed, yes, that pathetic god of his. He knew he couldn’t say it, that Mizrak would grow irate with him, but his will was far stronger, and it was within his power to save the monk. So long as he was near him, if he was injured in such a fashion, he could save him from death itself. He contented himself with this knowledge, but in order to have his say, told the monk. “If your god is supposed to be all knowing, then surely he sees how this battle would turn without you.”

Mizrak huffed, grimacing at how it hurt, but the noise was for the clearly irritated vampire. “He is, but he has a purpose for everyone, and if it is my time, it’s my time.” The scoff the vampire gave him matched what he knew of the vampire's sentiments about god. “It should give you comfort that I’m a man of god, that I might see heaven when my time comes.”

“This does not bring me comfort.” Olrox drolly stated. “And it shouldn’t you either.”

“Heaven is a paradise, why would one not wish to see it?”

Olrox shrugged his shoulders. “I’ve found more than enough pleasures here.”

Mizrak sighed in annoyance at hearing that. “In sin maybe.”

Olrox delighted in the man's annoyance. “I found you, and I quite enjoy you.” Mizrak huffed, but winced when it jarred him. Olrox scowled at the proof that even such a simple thing as talking could pain the man. “You should rest, if you’re to be foolish and go gallivanting off to fight with broken ribs, then what rest you could find now would do you wonders, I’m sure.”

Mizrak smirked at how the vampire's voice seemed laced with irritation, as if the notion of Mizrak being up and about truly vexed him. He closed his eyes, wearing a small smirk. “I’ll rest while I can.” The noise the vampire made proved he wasn’t pleased with such an answer. His pain eased now that he wasn’t expending energy to talk, wasn’t taking the deeper breaths that talking required. Still, he spared himself a bit more breath. “Thank you, Olrox.”

Olrox blinked back at the monk who had just thanked him, he shook his head in amusement at the man's actions. He vexed him greatly with his easy-going attitude to his pains, to his thoughts that his god knew best. That his death might have a set time that only his god knew of, that didn’t sit well with Olrox. That some unknown entity might yet control the human's fate, he didn’t believe in such things...If anything, he would have chosen to believe in his people’s gods, the monk would be better served with them.

He watched the man rest; he was awake given his heartbeat, but resting all the same. He would be forced to deal with this, torn between threatening the man to stay while he healed, something he knew would put both of them at risk, or letting the man go to face whatever darkness might find him. His eyes trailed to the bruising that was seen through the man’s slack hand; the man who had lost his hand hadn’t paid enough for his crimes, but Mizrak had granted him mercy from Olrox.

The vampire sighed, it would have been so much easier to continue this relationship as one of just pleasure, of one that was of provoking words and harsh exchanges that angered each other until they fell into bed with one another...This. What he was now surrounded in was something he’d feared having again, and this very reason was why he’d feared it. It was all too easy for someone you cared for to leave you.

Olrox didn’t enjoy feeling powerless, but he knew his limitations, and once the monk left his bed, he would be hard pressed to keep him safe. His eyes flickered up at the man's relaxed face, there was a small grimace staining his features, his ribs were hurting him even as he lay still. His eyes narrowed at the proof of how harrowing this injury was to the mortal, and that feeling of powerlessness turned to anger once more.

He twisted to lie upon his back, glowering up at the ceiling as he thought of these conflicting emotions. Of this...Love, he felt for Mizrak. Oh, how he’d resisted such things, how he’d dared to call it other things in the hopes of shielding himself from the truth. The monk's injury, though...It had forced him to see things clearly than before. He cared too deeply for the mortal for this to simply be fond affection for a bed partner. He’d felt that through the ages, he’d passed them all by with a casual disinterest when he was through with them.

His eyes trailed to the corners of his eyes to stare at Mizrak, he knew this was different. This man, this monk, and his stupid devotion to his god had dared to stir his heart. He burned with the same passion that he’d missed all these years, and his conviction towards finding the right path was oddly beautiful to the vampire.

He glanced down when he saw movement, and Mizrak’s hand had fallen away from his ribs. He looked up to see that the grimace he’d worn only moments ago had faded; he focused, then smiled when he realized the man had fallen asleep once more. His pains at least somewhat muted for him to find comfort enough to rest, looking back at the ceiling, Olrox contented himself with this strange lull in activity.

This quiet companionship as he watched over the injured monk beside him, he closed his eyes and sighed, a rest might do them both some good, and if he was fortunate enough, he might feel somewhat at peace by the time Mizrak left him. A foolhardy thing as he knew Mizrak would still be injured, but it was a vain hope he had for them both. At the very least, he hoped that the next time he saw the man, it would be for one of pleasure and not one so weighed down with the heavy emotions he was experiencing now. Love. He huffed. How tiresome was it to feel that deep, dark pull for another, but he couldn’t ignore it anymore. That is what he felt, and whether or not Mizrak reciprocated those feelings, he’d be at the monk's side for however long he had him.

Chapter Text

“You had best close that.”

Mizrak smirked at the curt tone the vampire used when he’d dared to open the curtains to one of the windows in the man’s room, he twisted to see Olrox scowling at him from where he lay on the bed safely out of the sun but clearly annoyed that it was now infiltrating his room. “You cannot reach me, what do I have to fear of you right now?” He taunted.

“The sun will set, Mizrak and I can always find you.”

Mizrak hummed, but not in a I’m considering that threat manner, more I’m amused and you can’t stop me. He looked back out the window, the sunshine beating through the glass had pooled a good section of the room, closing it off from Olrox and trapping the man in one half of the bedroom. Olrox remained on the bed, a place he hadn’t yet joined him but that he knew, in time, he’d find his place. For now, he delighted in teasing the vampire. He stayed in the sunshine, in its bright halo of light, as he watched the villagers go about their days unaware of what lurked in the inn above them. They didn’t know that a vampire lurked behind the safety of the curtains of this room, nor that his bewitching beauty would have them faltering to his gaze.

He still warred with knowing how Olrox lived, how he had to take lives to live himself. He chose more often than naught to simply not think of it, to delude himself into ignorance on the subject. It was a far kinder fate he granted himself than finding yet another thing to repent for, he’d said so many prayers now that he was sure even god was growing tired of hearing his voice. He smirked at that thought, that he’d aggrieve god with his attempts to soothe his soul of the sins he allowed himself to partake in. He knew god forgave all, that so long as he prayed and repented for his actions that he might be saved...But returning to the same sin again and again held weight, and he wasn’t sure how far weighed down his soul was.

“What has you scowling so early in the day?”

Mizrak snorted. He twisted his head to see that Olrox was still sprawled out across his bed, thankfully dressed at the moment, though he knew that could and most likely would change at any given moment. “Thoughts of damnation.”

“Ah, you and your sins.”

Mizrak looked back out the window. “I think of sins a lot, I’m a man of god and they hold weight against one's soul...My actions have consequences.”

“Isn’t that how the world works?” Olrox questioned. “The abbot made his choices, and now we deal with the consequences.” Mizrak hummed, agreeing with him in that. “Whatever actions you fear you’ve taken, I doubt their worthy of such concern.” He scowled when Mizrak laughed. “What?”

Mizrak shook his head. “It’s nothing.” How could he relate to a vampire that he felt his sins were compounding towards damnation? That all his prayers wouldn’t matter soon as he’d...He’d found himself so entangled with Olrox. Their time together wasn’t just the pleasures of the flesh; it wasn’t just the sin of having bedded a man, let alone a vampire. Those were evil, they were dastardly, and they should have been enough to see him fleeing the man. It wasn’t, he’d returned time and again, he’d returned now despite knowing the cost of such things. No, it wasn’t those sins that had leveraged towards him being unforgivable, salvageable. It was those deep, dark things that he felt for the vampire, the things he dared not say aloud but that his heart knew well.

Mizrak knew the truth in his heart, though he feared it, feared its just punishment. He loved Olrox. He sighed as he thought of that, of that dark desire, of that longing to be near the man whom he’d originally thought nothing more of a beast, a soulless creature sent to torment him. Now, however, he’d caught glimpses of that soul, he didn’t war so heavily on whether or not it existed. He just warred with its placement in the world. Was Olrox considered damned for what he was? Even if he had a soul? Surely Mizrak was falling into damnation simply by admitting his love for the man, though he’d yet to say such things in front of Olrox. He was sure that the vampire would laugh, that he would jeer at the thought of a mortal loving him. Mizrak scowled down at the sunny streets, tormented by what he knew and what he feared.

“Have you come only to stare out my window?”

Mizrak sighed. He glanced at the vampire and shook his head. “No.”

“Then close that blasted curtain and come here.”

Mizrak couldn’t help but chuckle at how very annoyed Olrox sounded, as it was, Mizrak was on the sunny side of the room, and Olrox couldn’t reach him if he wanted, just as he couldn’t close the curtain, as it was on the other side of Mizrak. He was powerless until the sun went down. “This infuriates you, doesn’t it?” The sharp look that garnered him had him smirking once more. “I could draw the others if you want the view.” He knew well enough that all that would do was force Olrox into a corner of the room, a very small corner. The vampire wouldn’t get burned if he were to do that, but given the murderous look Olrox was giving him, it wouldn’t be tolerated. Mizrak chuckled and looked back out the window. “I don’t know how you stand it.”

“What?” Came the sharp question.

“Not being able to stand in the sunlight.”

“I’ve forgotten what it feels like, I can’t mourn something I can’t remember.”

Mizrak frowned. He looked at the irate vampire. “You truly can’t remember what it felt like to stand in the sun?”

“No,” Olrox replied in a more civil tone now that it appeared that Mizrak wouldn’t go through with his threat to open more curtains. “All it does for me now is burn me, something I’m not eager to experience.”

Mizrak nodded his head as he basked in the sunlight. “I can’t help but find that sad...To not feel its warmth but rather be punished by it.” He closed his eyes and relished the warmth of the sun beating down on him. The sense of peace that came with its light, its warm embrace. “I couldn’t give this up.”

Olrox huffed at the man's sentiments that the sun was too good to be forsaken. “You wouldn’t mourn it for long, one taste of its teeth and you’d not savor it so.” He tilted his head curiously as he took in what the man had truly said. “You could give up the sun, Mizrak. You might not like it at first, but you could give it up.”

Mizrak opened his eyes, glancing at the vampire. “But I don’t have to, it’s you who has to mourn that you can’t feel it.”

“I don’t mourn that.”

“What do you mourn then?” Mizrak huffed. “If not the sun's beauty, what could possibly be worth your sentiments of grief?”

Olrox stared impudently back at the monk, his voice sullen as he reminded the monk. “You know what I mourn, I don’t think of such things, all it does is bring about old wounds.”

Mizrak frowned, both at the sullen response and at the knowledge that he DID know what the man mourned. Humming, he looked back out the window, he scowled as he realized that it had been his error to upset the vampire in such a way. “Does anything make that better?”

“Hm?”

“Time, perhaps, I guess.” Mizrak mused aloud. “Though some pains aren’t so easily mended.”

Olrox frowned before agreeing. “No. And time only helps ease the ache; it never truly goes away.” He saw Mizrak nod. “But you’ve never experienced those pains, have you?”

Mizrak hummed, not denying that, simply stating. “I don’t remember my family, the church took me in...So I suppose the only family I knew were priests and monks, but training started young. Childhood didn’t last long when you had a purpose to serve.” He ignored Olrox’ snort, he knew how the man felt about church and god. “I have no ties to a particular people, just to god...Though I know that it's not even close to what it is like to have such...Blood ties to another. I’ve had my share of grief, but no, I do not think it is the same as what you’ve felt. Most of my pains were of the flesh, of the mind, not so much the heart.”

Olrox hummed. “Because you never allowed yourself to love.”

Mizrak frowned at that statement. “I took a vow.”

Yes, and Olrox knew all about that vow, he’d laughed at it before, mocked the monk for such things. Now, however, he stated. “It robbed you of things...Things you knew nothing about, something you could not mourn, but robbed you nonetheless.”

Mizrak smirked at the vampire's sentiments that he should mourn that he hadn’t sinned before him. “I’ve had my faith waver before, but that is as close as a pain of the heart as I’ve felt...Or the brothers I’ve lost along the way.”

“Other monks.” He got a hum. “But none you’ve loved.”

“I suppose I loved them...I cared deeply for them, I mourned their passing.”

“But that was of people you were fond of, none that your heart was tethered to.”

Tethered. That was a unique way of saying it. Mizrak smiled as he stared out the window, was that what his heart was now? His love of Olrox tethered his heart to the vampire? He supposed that felt quite like it, some intangible force keeping him tied to the vampire. “I do envy you that.”

“Hm?”

“The ties that you once had, I know they bring you pain now, but I’ve never had such things and so I find it rather...Attractive to know what such ties would feel like.”

“They’re painful and cruel,” Olrox stated in a sharp tone. “And horribly beautiful. I do all I can to avoid such things now.”

Mizrak looked away from the sunny streets to stare back at the vampire. “You avoid it?” He got a nod. “Why?”

“Because time ticks on for a vampire, and things around us age. It’s tedious to grow attached to things that won’t last.”

Mizrak hummed, he looked back out the window and remarked. “Then I must be quite tedious to you.”

Olrox froze upon hearing that, that...That was not what he meant. Mizrak wasn’t tedious to him, he was a horribly beautiful creature that he...He dastardly loved. “Some things are more complex than others.” When Mizrak didn’t react to that, he frowned. “I do not find you tedious.”

Mizrak hummed before questioning.” Then what do you find me as?”

Olrox stared at the monk, he was distracted by whatever he was watching in the sunlight. “I’ve told you, I find you beautiful.”

“Yes...By my faith in god.”

“And other things.” Olrox corrected. “You’re far more complex than most mortals I’ve encountered...At least in the last few decades.” He thought on it a moment, and realized that it hadn’t been that long since he’d last had someone in his bed. Had it truly been that few years since he’d lost his love? It had, he realized, the Belmont boy was only just an adult, and he’d killed Julia Belmont as soon as he’d tracked her down. It hadn’t taken him long, just a year past his lover's death, but it seemed like that was lifetimes ago. “I suppose I lost track of time.”

“Of what?”

“How long it has been since-” Olrox stopped himself, since he’d loved. Scowling, he looked back at the monk who knew nothing of his feelings, of his deep longing. He couldn’t dare speak of it, he didn’t know how the monk would react. If he’d storm out of the inn and truly never return, if he’d mock him, or...Or if he’d accept it.

Mizrak glanced back at Olrox when he paused, he tilted his head curiously upon seeing the scowl on the vampires face. “Since what?” The devilish green eyes met his, but then, Olrox did something he couldn’t recall the vampire doing before. He looked away, he shied away from his gaze. Frowning, he twisted more towards the vampire, both curious and a tad alarmed at this change in the man. “Olrox?”

Olrox glared at the blankets he was lying upon. “It seems longer, time is so fluid to us...But it’s only been a little over a decade since I lost him...Since Belmont took him from me.”

Mizrak nodded despite Olrox not meeting his eyes. “I thought... I thought it was longer than that.”

“As did I, but it wasn’t. The Belmont child is proof of that, he was young when I slayed his mother, but not so young...It’s only been a few years past a decade since he was stolen from me.”

Mizrak swallowed. The pain was raw in Olrox’s voice. This hurt the vampire deeply, it had wounded him in ways that Mizrak couldn’t understand as he’d never had such a love before...Never lost someone as Olrox had. His feelings for the vampire were new, untainted by the vastness of time or a mortal injury that might end him. He had no clue if Olrox intended to stay at his side after the darkness was dealt with, but one thing was clear to him. “I was wrong.”

Olrox frowned. He looked up with a furrowed brow. “Wrong?”

“You loved him.”

Olrox huffed. “I did...But you thought I was lying, didn’t you?” There was an accusation in his tone.

“I didn’t wish to believe that something like you could feel such things...It made it easier to hate your kind. You were just a monster lurking in the dark if you couldn’t feel love, couldn’t feel remorse or fear...But you feel those things.” Mizrak swallowed tightly before acknowledging out loud. “You loved him, and the Belmont woman killed him because of what he was...Because she hunts your kind.”

“Yes, well, vampire hunters do that.” Olrox groused as he looked away with a scowl. “I was far older than him. Centuries older, he was young and defenseless against that woman. If I hadn’t left his side then...He would be alive.”

Mizrak frowned. “A vampire can be defenseless?”

Olrox chuckled and looked back at the surprised monk. “Young ones are. He wasn’t even a decade old, he hadn’t been granted the powers that I have, that would take many decades, a century for him to fully grasp his powers. He was easy prey for that woman.”

Mizrak nodded his head slowly. “I suppose I was misled, I thought that you had such things from the start.”

“No.” Olrox shook his head. “It’s something granted over time.” He got a soft hum from the monk. “Regardless...He wasn’t old enough to do battle with her, and I’d foolishly left his side to attend to something.” He looked at the monk, startled by his next question.

“And do you think you’ll love again?”

Olrox swallowed as he stared into those brown eyes. Mizrak was so curious, he often marveled at the questions he came up with when they lounged together...But this. He shrugged carelessly. “Some say time is all that is needed, and I’ll have plenty of that...I know better.”

“Oh?”

“It would take someone with great passion to spark that in me again. He was unique, special in ways that I can’t relate to you. He was something that my heart ached for, a companion I didn’t know I needed. I was already so old when I found him, I’d lived so long alone that I didn’t think I needed such things. He proved me wrong, and I loved him dearly. I loved him enough to change him.”

Mizrak nodded, despite knowing it was a bad idea, that it might end in a quarrel, he questioned. “Did you ask permission? You never said.”

This question amused him, Mizrak was of the mind that having done so without such consent was cruel, was some fashion of damning another soul. He’d shouted at him before when he refused to answer, taking it as an admission of guilt. Now, however, with his new ties to Mizrak, to this new love, he answered. “I told him plainly what it would mean, I didn’t delude him in the truth of it all.” He looked at the windows and smiled. “He did fear missing the sun, his people, their roots into the earth ran deep, much like my people. He feared the darkness that he might be chained to, but I showed him that it wasn’t so. That the beauty of the night was just as enthralling as the sun he feared losing.” Olrox smiled fondly as he remembered those nights, walking along with him and speaking of such things. Speaking of what the future might be like. He looked back at Mizrak and nodded. “He admitted his fear of it, of the unknown, I should say, but he accepted my gift. He thought he could look out for his people, could still serve them well even if he was relegated to the night.”

Mizrak was admittedly relieved to know that Olrox hadn’t enforced his will upon another, that the man whom he had lost had wished to join him. He couldn’t speak of how that warred with his beliefs on damnation, of what that did to that man's soul, but it helped leverage some of his fears about the vampire. He’d questioned whether or not the man had felt such things for him, and at least then, Olrox had said that he hadn’t loved him. Time had passed since then, things had shifted, or at least they appeared that way to Mizrak. Still, he dared not speak of his feelings for the vampire, afraid of both what they meant and how Olrox would receive them. He looked back out the window as he stepped back further into its light from having approached Olrox. “Did he enjoy it? Being a part of the night after loving the sun?”

Olrox smirked at Mizrak’s curiosity about his love before him. “Yes. He mourned the sun, much as you think you’d miss it...But he found the pleasures, the beauty of the night, just as enthralling.”

“The dark isn’t so beautiful now.” Mizrak offhandedly commented. “Not with what roams.”

“No, but before then it was.”

Mizrak nodded his head. “I hope it will be that way again.”

“It will, I’ve seen enough in my long life to know that this will pass...I do not know who will win, but either way, this will pass.”

“Darkness would ruin this world; that is not a passing you should look forward to.” Mizrak chastised the vampire with a scowl, and Olrox gave him a bored expression that flitted to irritation as he said.

“I wouldn’t look forward to it, I was forced to bow to that wench.”

Mizrak blinked. “Bow?” Olrox nodded. “Why?” He frowned, confused by it.

“To show my allegiance to her ruling.”

“But you-” He nodded when Olrox snorted back at him, explaining how he felt with such a derisive noise. “That must have been deplorable.”

“It was, but I wished to keep my head, so I did so. It won’t last, and if I have my way, that will be the one and only time I bow to anyone. I surely didn’t kneel when the Spaniards came.” He snorted at the thought. “If it weren’t for her powers, I would have laughed at her.”

Mizrak smirked at the clear distaste the vampire had. “All the more reason to be rid of her.” He teased.

“I have many reasons to be rid of her, that is just the most tedious.” He tilted his head curiously when Mizrak reached out and closed the curtain, the blessed shade of darkness shrouded the room once more and allowed him to move about freely if he so chose. He stayed reclined on the bed, watching as Mizrak approached him, teasingly he questioned. “And would you bow?”

Mizrak snorted. “She’d have killed me on principle, a man of god.” He huffed. “I’d be an example of her might, no doubt.”

“True.” Olrox reached out and took the man’s hand, his thumb trailing over the scar on the man's palm. “I wouldn’t see you around her again...She’s far too powerful for humans to lunge at her with petty swords.” He looked up and pointedly reminded the man. “You’d find yourself dead before you could raise your sword.”

Mizrak scowled at that, but nodded, he’d come to accept that running headlong into those fights wouldn’t be how they won. That this battle would be far longer than any of them liked, but it was a worthy fight, and so they had to press on. “I hope I am there when she dies...That I might rejoice in this war ending, that this madness is felled.”

Olrox smiled at the human, at this mortal who had run headlong at a dark entity without fear of his death. “I would see you there, I don’t want to see you die to this.”

Mizrak nodded. Olrox had stated that before when he’d wrestled him away, when he’d restrained him against those battles that he’d wanted to run headlong into. “I do not wish to die to this darkness, but it’s not up to me, Olrox. God will decide when it’s my time, and I pray that I might live to see the end of this. That you’re right and that this darkness will end and the world will be put back as it was before those dark creatures were born.”

“I’ve already told you.” Olrox teased. “You’re not allowed to die to some night creature or vampire, surely not some false god.”

Mizrak chuckled. “Yes, that’s right, you did say such a thing.” Olrox nodded firmly as if his word would truly be what saw him through this. “You are not god, Olrox. Your desires hold no weight when it comes to my death.”

“I can stop it, I have before.”

Mizrak blinked, he couldn’t really argue that because the vampire had intervened before. He hummed, uncertain a moment. “But you cannot guarantee you will be at my side throughout this.”

Olrox’s features tightened at that reminder. “As long as I am near, I will ensure it.” He settled, given how uneasy he felt by the whole thing. He shifted on the bed, pulling Mizrak to join him. He frowned when the man resisted, but he was relieved when it was because the man was still adorned in his weapons and not because he intended to deny him his company. He waited patiently as the man took off his sword and dagger to set them aside, leaned against the wall, he watched favorably as the man took off the heavy chain mail he wore; it thunked and clattered onto the floor. His shirt and pants remained, much to his chagrin, but he knew those could be removed with a bit of convincing. He’d see to it that he had the man that day, but for now, he let the man join him on the bed dressed. As they lay, each propped up on their forearm or elbow, Olrox reached out and stroked the man’s face, a gesture that Mizrak shrugged off less and less. Today it was allowed, and he playfully scratched at the man's beard. “I’m surprised you’ve let it grow this long.”

“It needs trimming, I just haven’t had the time.” Mizrak reached up when Olrox pulled his hand back, rubbing at his beard as he said. “I don’t like it this long.” He glanced down and huffed when he saw that Olrox was single-handedly unbuttoning his shirt, giving a dry expression to the amused vampire. Olrox’s shirt was already willowy around him, not secured in any fashion, and giving off plenty of a view of the man’s seductive form. His eyes trailed to the man’s beautiful raven hair, which trailed from his shoulders, crossing his neck to drape down his clavicle. He let his eyes twist to the other side of him to see the braid that Olrox always wore. He took notice that the beads in it were different; he reached out a hand and trailed it down the man’s braid, exploring it.

“What are you doing?”

“The beads are different.”

Olrox chuckled at the man’s appraisal of his hair, as if the change in beads was something so thrilling. The fact that he noticed at all was surprising to the vampire, but nice. “I change them on a whim.”

Mizrak hummed; the pink beads he’d seen in his hair most of the time they’d been together had been traded for blue ones. They glinted, their edges adorned in gold to enhance the blue in the center of the bead. “They’re beautiful.”

“Thank you.” Olrox watched Mizrak trail his hand down his hair a moment longer before he met his gaze. “Do you find these ones more attractive?”

Mizrak chuckled. “Does it matter?” He got a shrug. “I like these; the others were beautiful too, but these look good in your dark hair.”

Olrox was pleased to hear that the man liked his new beads, that he found the change beautiful. He tilted his head and frowned when Mizrak reached out for him again, this time he felt his fingertips ghost his ear.

“Do you change your earrings?”

“Rarely, I’m fond of these, they’re from long ago.”

Mizrak nodded as he pulled his hand back. He hummed when a warm hand wrapped around his side, trailing up his body as Olrox seemed to favor touching him in such a fashion. He didn’t shy away from his touch; he knew he should, that he should cast off the vampire's touch and rise to flee. He did nothing of the sort, he let Olrox touch him, let his warm hands wander over him as if the man had never seen him before. They’d both seen plenty of each other; Mizrak couldn’t count how many times they’d fallen into bed with one another, how many times they’d sinned together.

The man’s touch was alluring, gentle, yet firm; he touched him in a way that, before Olrox, Mizrak hadn’t realized was how one touched another man. This touch spoke of them being lovers, two bodies so entwined with one another. Mizrak had never had this before, and surely not with a man, he’d broken his sacred vows to be with Olrox, or rather because of him. Mizrak still wasn’t certain what came first; all he knew was that his vow was broken and that he kept sinning for the sake of this...The love he felt for the vampire.

Mizrak didn’t fight it when Olrox leaned forward and kissed him. It was too late to have doubts, too late to stop this; he couldn’t pull himself away from the vampire, and the feeling of those soft lips on his own was a siren song. He kissed the vampire back, no longer so sheltered that he’d lie placid to whatever the vampire did. He reciprocated; it might have been more inexperienced than what Olrox knew of, but he’d grown bolder the longer they had been with each other.

Now, he didn’t think twice about kissing the vampire, though he’d never initiated it himself; he participated fully in the act. He gave a soft noise when Olrox’s tongue entered his mouth, the seductive glide of that piece of the vampire saw him fighting back the urge to press his tongue more insistently against the vampire's mouth, but he quested to stay far away from the fangs he knew lurked in the man’s mouth. Allowing Olrox to take hold of their entangled mouths by using his as a medium for their passion for one another.

He felt Olrox’s hand skirt up his back to gently embrace the back of his head, gently cradling him as their mouths worked together to show their budding arousal. Despite his conflicting morals, Mizrak couldn’t help but reach out for the vampire. His hand came up to wrap around the Aztec’s shoulder, drawing him into his body, closing the gap between their chests as his hand stroked up the man’s back. He gasped when Olrox pulled back and began to trail kisses down his jaw, his lips coming to rest near his ear. He swallowed as the man’s husky voice said.
“Take it off, all of it.”

Mizrak tensed when the man kissed his neck, his hand shot up to grab the man by the back of his hair and jerk his head back from his neck, the amused glint in those bright eyes had him glaring. Olrox knew how he felt about that, at having his fangs so near his throat, it didn’t matter that the vampire had spoken of how he didn’t desire to bite him. Having a vampire, any vampire, even the one that he loved, wasn’t something he could allow.

He moaned when Olrox easily dealt with his hand hold of his hair to lunge forward once more to kiss him passionately, as if the vampire hadn’t just tested his patience. His hand softened in the man’s hair, turning from a cruel handhold to one of a gentle grasp, embracing the man's head as he kissed him just as passionately. Mizrak fell back, their lips parting as Olrox shifted them suddenly, he stared up into those lustful eyes as Olrox loomed above him, the man held up above him by his palms, one above his left shoulder and one between his right arm and chest. He swallowed at the fierce expression the vampire wore, he groaned, his eyes closing when the hand by his chest went down suddenly to stroke the front of his pants.

“I want these gone or I’ll remove them with my teeth.” Olrox’ eyes glinted in amusement as Mizrak glared at him, but surprisingly said nothing about it as he reached down to undo his pants, nodding approvingly he pushed himself up and off of the monk so he could attend to his clothing, it was easy enough to become naked, his lust for the monk made it all the more important that he not dawdle. There was no telling how long he’d have the monk, if he’d grow repentant and flee...Though those instances had faded now that he thought about it. He frowned, actually, he couldn’t recall the last time Mizrak had fled his bed. The monk had grown comfortable with his place in Olrox’s bed, he smirked as he realized this.

“What?”

Olrox blinked, his eyes focusing on Mizrak. He looked down and smirked upon finding that the man was naked, well, nearly. He reached out and stroked the growing bulge of the man’s arousal, gaining an appreciative noise of pleasure from the monk. “I did say I wanted this off, didn’t I?”

“Pants...You said pants.” Mizrak gritted out as the vampire tormented him with firm strokes through his underwear.

“I meant it all, and you know that.” Olrox leaned forward and to punish him trailed kisses down the man’s jaw, daring to leave a single kiss on the man’s neck before he trailed down to avoid the man’s hard hand hold of his hair. He trailed down his chest, down his ribs, down his belly, and then, eyes glinting used his hands to pull the monk's underwear down to his thighs, his breath ghosting the arousal the man had tried to hide from him.

He did so love how Mizrak groaned at such simple pleasures, his hot breath upon his cock enough of an enticement to the repressed monk to see his cock hardening. He inhaled through his nose, scenting the pleasant scent of his lover, that earthy aroma of the monk. He let his tongue come out between his fangs and trailed it up the man’s shaft, earning a choked-off gasp from Mizrak. The taste of him was addictive, but he knew how Mizrak felt about his fangs. He’d promised that he could give him a blow job regardless of their presence, but it wasn’t allowed. So he trailed his tongue along his length a few times before his hand came forward and stroked the moist shaft, just a few times, just enough to draw the monk towards the desire for more.

He climbed over the man, delighting in how his hand was wrapped around the man’s cock stroking him almost in rhythm with the mans beautiful heartbeat, not that Mizrak would realize such a thing. It’s beautiful beat kept time just as efficiently as any timepiece. He reached over the man’s shoulder to the oil he’d already set aside when Mizrak had first walked into his room.

He coated his fingers with the viscous fluid before reaching down and nudging Mizrak’s legs open with his knee, gaining access to the more intimate parts of him. He smirked when Mizrak gasped at the first touch, at the first invading prob of his finger. The monk bucked up into the hand stroking his cock as if to get away from his probing digit, but he groaned once it slid into him, no longer fighting against its presence. It didn’t take long for him to have fully sheathed his finger into the man, gently stretching him before another well oiled finger joined it, the groan he got as the man began to fill a real stretch had his eyes glinting in arousal as he stroked his lovers cock to keep him focused on pleasure and not the stretch of taking his fingers.

His thumb trailed the moist tip of the monks cock spreading the dew of pleasure he’d caused to form. It made his movements along his cock slicker, smoother, as he worked a third finger into the man who gasped and groaned as he was pleasured and systematically stretched for him. By now, he knew how hard he could push Mizrak’s body, its limits, how long he needed to truly adjust to the task of taking him into himself, and as he withdrew his fingers, he knew the man could take him yet again, his body properly prepared for the task.

He leaned forward once more to coat his fingers in an ample sampling of oil before he reached down and with a soft sigh stroked his cock, it was hard, had been since he’d started teasing his lover, but now it was eager to find its pleasure in Mizrak. He stroked himself a few times, soaking in the simple pleasure and adequately spreading the oil. Once he was prepared, he shifted Mizrak a bit more, his hand leaving his lovers cock to gently stroke his thigh, grasping it he arched the man’s leg causing the man wrap it around his waist, he smirked when Mizrak didn’t need prompting, falling into the prelude to their joining.

He pressed down upon the man, feeling Mizrak’s cock slide against his abs, its moist tip smearing its passions on him as he lined himself up with his lovers body and with a sharp grunt thrust the first bit of his cock into his lovers willing body. The sharp cry Mizrak gave as he was breached was one he was well used to by now, he gave a gentle rock of his hips, sinking further into the monk as one hand stroked the man’s thigh and the other wedged itself between them to stroke the monk’s cock once more.

It had softened some from his breaching him, but he knew that would change in a moment. He brought it back to its previously awakened state as he gave another rolling thrust of his hips and sank further into the mortal who groaned at the sensation of being filled with the vampires cock. Olrox sighed when one last rolling thrust brought him snug against his lovers body, his cock fully sheathed into Mizrak’s which trembled beneath him overcome with the sensations of being filled by him all the while his cock was being tended to.

Olrox enjoyed the expression Mizrak wore in these first moments, somewhere between bliss and pain, his brain too overwhelmed to know which side of the scale it wanted to fall. Olrox was good at choosing for it, and like all the times before now, he made sure Mizrak knew what great pleasures they could have with each other. The vampire stroked the underside of his lovers cock, trailing the thick vein to the sensitive tip, smearing its bounty with a circular motion that teased the man’s cock. The choked-off noise Mizrak gave granted him permission to pull back a bit to thrust back into his lover.

He set a gentle pace, knowing from experience that the build up was a beautiful thing for the both of them. Mizrak bowed into his hands movements, eager for more as the mans hands clawed at the blankets, his leg tightening around Olrox’ hip as if to beg him to stay. The vampire smirked at the man’s movements, at his responses to what Olrox could do to him.

Mizrak didn’t speak during sex, more of that repressed nature of the monk's vow, or so he wagered. Regardless, he’d made it his goal to see him speak, so he’d learned all the things that made the man come undone. The trick with the circular movements on his crown had gotten him an expletive before; now Mizrak clenched his jaw as if to silence himself by will alone. That wouldn’t do.

He shifted his stance above the man, his rolling thrusts having come to a full motion, the monk's body not resisting his place inside it any longer. The man gave off small noises whenever he got the right angle to that pleasure spot deep inside him. Olrox made it a game to see how he could torture him with that little pleasure zone, given how Mizrak would buck against him, he was good at it.

His hand continued to hold the man’s thigh despite not needing to, he stroked the tense flesh that trembled with the passions Mizrak was feeling. Eventually he slid it down to grasp the man’s hip, giving him a good angle to use it as a hand hold to aid his thrusts into the man as his other kept driving Mizrak closer and closer to his end, but backing off whenever he sensed the man might just crest that high without him.

The pained noises the man gave when he restricted his arousal by loosening his hand around his cock were tantilizing, and surprising Mizrak never argued against it. He let him do as he pleased, assured that he’d find pleasure in the end. He was patient, despite his eagerness; he was patient and never demanded that Olrox hurry or that he serve him in some other fashion. The vampire wasn’t sure if this was some facet of being a monk he didn’t know about, some supreme patience towards all things, even pleasure, but he used it to his advantage.

Keeping his lover on the edge, on the precipice of pleasure as he sought out the rising tide of his own. The tight heat wrapped around his cock made that an easy thing, that it was Mizrak just enhanced things for him, this wasn’t some casual fling he’d tossed himself into bed with...This was Mizrak. That beautiful, passionate soul that he longed to cling to, Olrox tilted his head back, groaning as he sank deep into his lover's body. He smirked to himself when he did it again, and finally. Finally! He heard Mizrak call out as his cock struck that desireable part deep inside him.

“Fuck!”

He would have laughed, he should, he distantly recalled, but the way the man tightened around his cock was too delightful for him to point out the mans cursing to him. He groaned and thrust harder, eager, impatient now, he hungered for that bright conclusion. To see that pleasure crest the monk, to delight in his undoing. His head fell back down to stare in lust as the monk writhed strewn upon his cock.

His hands coiled tightly in the bed covers; he was sure that if he’d been a vampire, they would have been rended to shreds by his claws. A shameful desire of his, to see the man pass through time with himself. He shook his head to clear such dangerous thoughts; he knew Mizrak’s feelings on such things, and it was foolish to delude himself into thinking he could change the monk's mind. He could have him, he could keep him as long as he lived, but that would be all.

He growled, his impatience growing as he realized yet again how finite this was. How he should treasure each and every moment he had with the monk, it could be their last he wagered, there was no telling with this war. The beautiful creature moaning in passion below him could be wrenched free of his bed without his say so and that was a fate he couldn’t discard no matter how he tried.

“O-Olrox.”

Olrox blinked, looking down, he smirked at having heard his name upon the man’s lips, he’d never called out his name in his passion, so this was a new delight. “Yes?” He gave a sharper thrust as if to reward the man for speaking up, the sharp cry the man gave as his body was propelled forward with pleasure delighted him, so naturally, he did it again. The choked gasps the man gave as the vampire pleasured him were musical to Olrox. A siren song of what he was doing right to please his lover.

He grinned when the man arched his neck so beautifully, his head thrown back as his back bowed into him, the man’s body trembling for all the pleasure it was drenched in. He was nearly there. Olrox’ eyes glinted in the lust he held for the human, his thrusts, his teasing strokes of the man’s cock changing as he sought out their respective ends. He was eager to bask in their passions, to delight in the decadence of their tired forms.

He grunted when Mizrak tightened so delightfully around him, the man crying out as he struck that deep, dark part of him. Olrox endeavored to do it again, his pleasure having risen steadily, he was on the edge of his own control. He wanted to slake his lust upon the human, and he knew he might get rough if their bodies didn’t do as he wanted. He groaned as the next harsh thrust rewarded him with Mizrak’s passions overflowing the man, his cock having struck deep as his fingers teased the crown of the man’s cock.

He stroked the spilling shaft, it spasmed in his grasp, spilling the man's lust between their bellies as Mizrak cried out in pleasure, his rapt delight at his undoing. Olrox thrust harder for a moment, delighting in the added tightness around his cock as Mizrak’s orgasm saw the man’s body reacting favorably. He growled, thrusting hard once more into the lax monk who was coming down from his high, another thrust into his sensitive lover, and he groaned as his pleasure rocked through him.

He buried himself deep within Mizrak and let his lust for the man pour out, giving gentle rocks of his pelvis, chasing more pleasure despite his body being overwhelmed with it. He sighed as it rolled through him, a tidal wave of pleasure that he basked in. He hummed when Mizrak’s leg slid against his hip, the human growing tired from their tryst. He reached down and lifted the man’s leg by his thigh, stroking the lax muscle, gently cradling the man’s leg as he gave one last roll of his hips, smirking at the choked noise Mizrak gave as his over-sensitive body was plundered by him one last time.

Sighing, his pleasure seeping deep into his bones, he slowly pulled back from the monk. He stroked his leg as he lowered it and twisted to lie beside the man, whose breaths were still haggard. Olrox smirked quite proud of himself for having caused the man this sort of distress, his heart was beating wildly. He reached out and laid his hand atop the man’s chest, he enjoyed feeling its frantic beat as it thumped just below the man’s breast, beating against his sternum in a hard pace. He didn’t comment on how Mizrak reached up to curl his hand around his. By now, Mizrak was aware of what he was doing. Sensing his heartbeat, feeling it for himself, and the human...This beautiful human would just smile at him and let him wonder at its beauty. True to form, Mizrak’s eyes came open, and he twisted his head towards him.

Mizrak smirked, a wry chuckle leaving him as he squeezed Olrox’s hand from where it was resting on his breast, feeling his frantic heartbeat. He could tell it was still beating hard, but he knew it would calm shortly, and for some reason, Olrox delighted in hearing it. “And how wild is it today?”

“Wild,” Olrox stated with a fond smile at the human. “Strong, but wild...I’d almost fear it threatened to break free of you.”

Mizrak chuckled again. “I don’t think it can do that, no matter how hard you rile me.” He hummed when Olrox leaned forward and chastely kissed him. Such embraces, this gentle affection, didn’t last long, and so he savored it. When their lips parted, he rasped. “Then again...You’ve never heard it when it’s truly beating.”

Olrox tilted his head, his hair cascading over his shoulder as he stared back at the monk in confusion. “Truly beating?” He got a hum. “What do you mean by that? I’ve heard it plenty of times, just now it was rabbiting away.” His hand rubbed the man’s chest as if to soothe an ache. “It’s slowing now, but still fast...But what makes it beat otherwise?”

Mizrak smirked at the man’s apparent eagerness to know what might stir his heart more than their sinful acts. “There are two things that I think still my heart and make it beat with such fury.”

Olrox hummed. “And those are?”

“When I am bowed in a house of god, I swear it stops beating at all, that I find inner peace while praying...It stills, I do not hear it in my ears nor against my breast. It fades away in that peace.”

Olrox frowned at the man’s sentiments that his praying in that house of god he favored might change his heartbeat. He longed to hear this supposed change, but he knew from experience that Mizrak wouldn’t tolerate him in a church. He was distraught to know that Olrox could enter it without bursting into flames. It was a contradiction of his faith, and one he’d avoided causing mischief in for some time. “You’re right, I have never heard it be that still...Though I’d be curious to hear it that way.”

Mizrak hummed. “It’s different when I pray elsewhere, it still rushes in my ears out in the wilds or here...It’s just in God's house that it quiets.” He gave a somewhat sympathetic look at the vampire. “You won’t hear that.”

“No, not unless you give me leave to enter your grand creator's house.” The scowl at his taunt had him sighing. “Fine...Though I find the whole thing tedious. I can walk on those grounds, nothing inhibits me but you.”

“You know how I feel about that.”

Olrox hummed, he did, it had led to a rather disastrous meeting. Mizrak had been angry at him for a while, long enough to give him caution when approaching the man again. “And the other?”

Mizrak smiled, looking up at the ceiling, he said. “The moment where steel meets steel, when I do not know if the next breath I take will be my last. It beats with such a wild tempo, it gives me such strength.”

“You’re fearing death.”

Mizrak laughed and shook his head, he looked back at the vampire. “It’s not fear that drives me then Olrox.” He saw the confusion on the vampires face and explained. “I do not fear death Olrox, I’ve told you this before. It is not fear that drives my heart to that great tempo, it’s...It’s a will to live, to keep fighting.”

Olrox blinked as he took in what the man had to say, his passion was showing and it was quite beautiful. Olrox hummed to cover his need to smile, his desire to show how beautiful the man was to him. “I’d rather not see you in some tussle with swords just to hear it beat that way.”

Mizrak chuckled. “Fair enough.” He stared back at those beautiful green eyes and said. “You’ll just have to settle for this.”

“Unless you change your mind about that house of god you so revere.” He sighed when Mizrak glared at him, he shook his head, and muttered. “That faith of yours.” It wasn’t said in annoyance, that had long since bled out of his voice when talking of the man’s supposed god. Now, it was more of a fondness for the man’s beliefs.

Mizrak smirked when he sensed the man wasn’t irate with him about that denial, he almost sounded amused by it. As if he’d already come to terms that he wouldn’t be allowed in the hallowed halls of a church. “To tell you the truth, I doubt it would quiet with you there.”

Olrox looked back at the monk in surprise. “Why?”

“I’d be distracted by you and not focused on prayer.”

Olrox hummed; he supposed that was true enough. “Then it’s a worthless endeavor to change your mind.”

“You couldn’t change my mind.” Mizrak retorted in a huff. “I do not know what allows you to walk into a church, but if it's God's will that you should not burst into flames, then all I can do is tell you how it bothers me.”

“You said it was an affront to your god to have such a devilish creature in his house.”

Mizrak swallowed, yes, he had said that. He stared back at the vampire, who didn’t seem upset for having parroted what he’d said before. “I was angry...I’m still baffled by it, but I think it might have to do with your soul.”

“My soul?”

“Hm. I questioned before if you’d had one at all, or if this...What you are would have damned it.” Mizrak paused a moment before stating. “I do not know if you have a soul Olrox, but if god would allow you in a church then I think it is likely.”

Olrox was amused to hear the monks take on this topic. “And for what purpose would that be?”

“I do not know,” Mizrak admitted. “He forgives all to those who truly repent, but I know you do not repent for your misdeeds...The devil hasn’t claimed you, being a vampire, you’ve cheated death, you’re robbing the devil of your soul, and it appears that god can’t weigh the deeds of your soul either...It sounds more like purgatory.”

“And this purgatory, what is it?”

“A place between heaven and hell, where lost souls dwell.”

Olrox hummed as he considered that. “I am not lost, I know exactly where I am.” Mizrak nodded back at him, but he could see how the man warred with this. He blinked when he realized something. “That would make this purgatory, wouldn’t it?”

“It’s not.” Mizrak scowled. “This is God's creation...Purgatory is a separate place.”

“Well, I am not there seeing as I’m in this bed with you,” Olrox argued. “So I think you’re wrong.”

Mizrak nodded his head, he wasn’t quite sure what to think about the vampire's soul. He knew Olrox was far more complex than he’d originally assumed. Now he saw the different facets of himself, he saw how he felt things, how he reacted similarly to a mortal...Just with the adage of age. He had wounds as all men did, painful things that festered with time, only his hadn’t been healed by the grace of god nor the passage of time. In that effect, he pitied Olrox, but he saw his strength, his resilience. He saw him as more than that blood-thirsty beast he’d waged war against when trying and failing to keep his distance from the vampire. Now, however, he was all too aware of how he felt and what he thought of Olrox. He looked back up at the ceiling and said. “It’s up to god, not me, wherever you dwell...Wherever your soul belongs. It is here now.”

“So you think I have a soul?” He got a hum, he knew from his talks with the monk how precious this thing was to the man. Some intangible proof that his god loved him, he didn’t really grasp how that worked, but to hear that Mizrak thought he had this was oddly peaceful to him. To be included in that faith the man had, in that devotion. He pulled his hand from the man’s chest, his heartbeat lulled into its normal rhythm now that they’d settled. He reached up and drew Mizrak’s face towards him as he leaned over to kiss the man. It was short, but a sweet melding of their lips before he pulled back. As much as he hated it, he said. “The sun is falling.”

Mizrak glanced at the curtains to see that Olrox was right, the light of the sun was dwindling. The vampire would be expected no doubt, some bullshit of showing his allegiance. Their time with each other was over, and a small, desperately thriving part of him mourned that. He sat up on his elbows and looked back at Olrox. “I should go then.”

Olrox nodded his head, he didn’t wish to see the man go but they both had their parts to play. He watched Mizrak rise, the man heading to the bathroom to clean himself of their actions.

His eyes trailed back to the curtains, and he sighed. He didn’t know what awaited him in the wenches' court, but he’d have much rather spent his time with Mizrak. He blinked, watching with lustful eyes as Mizrak reappeared and began to dress, the tantalizing view of his body slowly chipped away as more and more clothing was adorned. He sat up as he watched the man begin to replace his sword and dagger on himself. Their eyes met once the monk was dressed, Teasingly, Olrox said. “I’ll see you soon.”

Mizrak huffed at the taunt, why Olrox felt the need to remind him that he couldn’t stay away was beyond him but he sent a firmer look at the vampire and pointedly walked to the curtains and ripped open the one that he’d opened before, the dying embers of sunlight burst forth, covering half of the room. He twisted with a smirk at the now glowering vampire, chuckling, he headed for the door and called out with an odd, hopeful voice. “I’ll see you again, I think.”

Olrox blinked his earlier outrage at Mizrak opening the curtain, fading into a soft smirk at his departure, shaking his head, he looked at the open curtains and couldn’t stay angry at the fact that he had to wait out the rest of the sun to be able to move about. He lay back into the blankets and mused. “Until next time, love.”

Chapter Text

Olrox had a faint smile on his face as his ear was pressed against Mizrak’s chest. They’d curled up together after their latest romp in bed, and now, he was lying with his head upon the warrior monk’s chest, hearing the beautiful beat of the man’s heart. It was still beating harder for their passions, rabbiting against the man’s breast. He could feel its vibrations against his face, for how hard it was beating. His hand had come up to rub the other half of Mizrak’s chest as if to soothe it, though he longed to hear this passionate beat longer, he knew that it would fade. It was self-indulgent to listen so intently to the man’s heartbeat. Mizrak didn’t understand, didn’t grasp the beauty of his heartbeat. He took it for granted, he hummed when he felt the monk’s hand stroke his naked back. The man’s chest rose harder as he took a deeper breath before he questioned.

“Are you falling asleep on me?”

“Vampires do not sleep.” He got a grunt in return, and he focused once more on the beautiful beat of the man’s heart. He was left alone for a moment or two before Mizrak questioned.

“How do you find rest?”

Olrox smirked at the man’s curiosity. “We rest, Mizrak, we just don’t sleep...Only fledglings sleep.”

“Fledglings?” The confusion was ripe in the monk's voice.

Olrox raised himself up on his forearm, already mourning that Mizrak’s heart had returned to its steadier pace. “Newborn vampires. They have to sleep through the day, it’s the pull of the sun, a means of conserving energy as they’re not skilled hunters at that point. Granted, a sire is meant to be guiding them in that, but our kind has a rather...Lax opinion on where that help ends.”

Mizrak nodded his head. “But you haven’t slept in a long time.” The vampire shook his head. “But you’re not tired?” Another shake. “It is hard to fathom that you do not rest in such a way...You can’t wander during the day, you’re stuck inside, what do you do with the time?”

“I can move about in the day.” Olrox reminded the monk. “You’ve seen me in the day, if one is cunning enough, you can use the shade of the sun to move about...But if I’m here, I read, that is how I pass the time.”

Mizrak hummed as he considered all of that. “You’ve lived a long time...Isn’t that daunting?”

“Sometimes, but I’ve found ways to keep myself occupied. Now that I am older and can reliably move against the sun in its shade, I’m not stuck in one place. Here, I’m trapped in this inn, but upon nightfall, I could find another shelter which would allow me to move during the day.”

“Why don’t you?”

“I like it here.”

Mizrak nodded his head, he supposed that was a good enough reason to linger anywhere these days. “And when this is over, you intend to go back to your homeland?”

“I do.” Olrox glanced towards the window. “This place...Although beautiful has a rather dark history for our kind. It is not home to me, it’s a foreign land that doesn’t know me.” He looked back at Mizrak and questioned. “What will you do?”

Mizrak thought a moment before stating. “I suppose I’d find my place with the church once more, I’d travel, do gods work once more.” He saw how that frustrated Olrox, the man didn’t grasp how one could be so devote. “I’d find my place once more in the light of god.”

“You’d put this all behind you,” Olrox stated a bit of anger leeching in his voice at the notion of being so easily discarded.

“I would never forget...I don’t think that’s possible.” Mizrak stated honestly, he swallowed before reaching out to trail his hand down the man’s braid. “I could never forget you.” He let his gaze go up into those beautiful green eyes that enchanted him.

“Come with me.”

Mizrak’s eyes widened. “What?”

“Come with me to my homeland, you can just as easily pray to your paltry god there as here,” Olrox argued. “You could see a new land far away from here.”

Mizrak blinked as he considered that. “I-I’ve never left the church before...I’ve never been on a boat.”

Olrox smirked at those benign fears. “You could taste the ocean and set foot on a distant land, one filled with so many beautiful things.”

Mizrak frowned, this...This offer held so much meaning. “You want me to go with you.” Olrox nodded. He wanted him to go with him. To leave all this darkness behind them and start over, to be together. He looked down at the man's braid, toying with the end of it. “I’ve never left the church before...I’ve always had my place there.” He swallowed tightly. “But I’ve warred with what they’ve allowed, it is not God's work, his teachings that brought about this darkness. To leave this behind...It is very tempting.”

“Then come with me.” Olrox beseeched the human. “This might be the right path for you.” He smiled when Mizrak’s eyes jerked up at him upon hearing those words, he’d counseled the monk throughout their times together. Never questioning the validity of his god, his devotion, but he’d questioned the movements Mizrak took in service of him. He’d uttered similar words then, asking the man to think hard on what path he wanted to take for himself.

Mizrak’s heart beat harder upon hearing those words. Was leaving the church the right path? He didn’t know. It was all he had, all he’d had up until Olrox. Now, he was a shamed monk who had broken his vows and who sinned openly. He frowned, he would be lying to himself, to god, if he stayed as some attempt to give himself penance for his actions...But could he really leave? Olrox said he could pray anywhere, and yes, this was true, but he’d be casting aside what made him...Him. “I would not know who I am.”

Olrox frowned at the odd statement. “What?”

Mizrak met those supernaturally green eyes and admitted. “All I am is the church, Olrox. If I leave it, I would not know who I am.”

Olrox huffed in amusement. He reached out and embraced the man's cheek. “I know who you are.” Seeing the man frown, he said. “You’re passionate, kind, devoted, and brave. You’re so much more than that church you’ve hidden behind Mizrak. You’re worth, your identity is not that, you are more than that. Who you are with me, that is who you are.”

Mizrak huffed a quaint smile forming. “I sin greatly when I’m with you, I’d think that's more an argument to stay and repent.”

Olrox was quick to argue. “But then you’d not have me.”

Mizrak hummed. That was true. If he stayed with the church, he’d most likely travel, and it was unfair to assume that Olrox would stay in a foreign land, let alone tag along to wherever he was sent. Leaving the church...Freed them both, but what was the cost of that? The church would move on without him, he’d seen it countless times when his brothers had fallen in battle. He was just one man, but he was devoted to god...Still, he knew there were many ways to serve god. It was just that he’d always been who he was now, a warrior, a monk, that he didn’t know what to do without those things. Olrox said that he was his truer self when he was with him, but he warred with the truth of that. He was honest with himself when he was with the vampire, he admitted, albeit secretly to himself, that he loved the man...But now, just now, Olrox had openly stated he wanted him with him. He looked at the vampire, a tad lost, and questioned. “For how long, though?”

Olrox tilted his head, his hair swishing to one side. “How long?”

“How long would I have you?”

Olrox answered swiftly. “For as long as you want.”

“I’d grow old, you’d be timeless.” He got a hum from the vampire. “Why would you possibly want me with you? I’m mortal Olrox, I’m not like you.”

“I would stay beside you regardless...But you could be like me. I want what we have now, forever.”

Mizrak scowled upon hearing those words, the notion of forever wasn’t possible, wasn’t conceivable to him. He was a man of god, not a vampire, but spending the rest of his life with Olrox was something he wickedly found attractive. Finally unable to restrain himself from asking the devilish question, he asked “What are we?”

Olrox leaned forward and kissed the man passionately, their lips tangling as the vampire poured his being into this gesture, as he feared words would fail him. He wasn’t sure he could say it, he was coward in that, but he feared what saying it would mean so he kissed the man as if it was the last time he’d have him. It lasted a moment or two, long enough that when they parted Mizrak was breathing heavier. “That. That is what we are.”

Mizrak swallowed as he stared into those intense eyes, the beautifully tormenting eyes. “Olrox.”

“Say yes, come with me.” Olrox beseeched the monk. “Come to my homeland, come home with me, Mizrak. The sunrise is different there.” He smiled. “I think you’d like it.”

Mizrak huffed. “The sunrise is why I should like it?”

“No, you should come for me, but it is beautiful there. I’d show you everything my homeland has to offer.” He gave an odd chuckle. “I could show you my people’s temples and you could marvel at what gods we trembled before, see how they compare to your houses of god.”

Mizrak stared back at Olrox, this vampire who was promising him a new life. A life away from the church, a temptation he should have been angry about, a temptation that he should have denied straight away. His heart, though. His heart, he swore it changed beat as he considered the possibility laid out before him. He would still be a man of god, no matter where he laid his head down, he knew this well. There might not be churches to pray in, but a bible traveled well. This life Olrox promised him, it was full of sin, it was a deep, dark temptation that he should have rallied against, but he found he didn’t have the strength for that.

His heart was a traitor; it loved him, it loved Olrox, and Mizrak had long since come to terms with that love. But could he walk away? “Do you love me?” He saw how Olrox tensed. “Do you love me, Olrox?” He needed to know, before he stepped away from the church. Before he sailed away from his homeland, before he took another step into sin. He needed to know how the man felt, he knew Olrox was capable of love, they’d spoken at length about it. He just needed to know that this was what it was, that this wasn’t some impulsive decision the vampire was making for the sake of a convenient bed fellow.

Olrox stared into those deep brown eyes, ones that sparked so much curiosity, so many questions, and such passion. A passion that had drawn him in, that had sparked those deep desires for more. Had lit his dead heart aflame once more. He leaned forward, intent on kissing the man. Mizrak tensed, pulling back slightly. Olrox smiled at the man’s hesitancy. “I do.” He kissed the man whose eyes had widened upon hearing the truth of his desires for him.

Olrox let his mouth reaffirm those words, kissing the man with passion. His lips and tongue assaulted the human with his lust, with his love for him. Mizrak gave a small, plaintive noise of want before he began to kiss him back. Allowing Olrox to fully penetrate his mouth with his tongue now that he wasn’t overcome with the shock of Olrox’s response to his question. They were entwined with one another, countless minutes passed as they savored the taste of each other. Lost in the passion of this admittance of love, they gently parted. Olrox stared into the monk's eyes as Mizrak breathed a tad harder against the void between their lips. “And do you love me, Mizrak?” It was said in jest, but he was uncertain, wary of what the human would say.

Mizrak huffed at those taunted words. “I shouldn’t. By all rights, I shouldn’t...But I fear my soul was lost to damnation a while ago because of you, because... I love you.” He moaned when he was savagely kissed once more, he gave off soft noises of pleasure as they tumbled backward, Mizrak resting upon his back as Olrox loomed above him, dominating their lips union as Mizrak’s hand came up to embrace the back of the Aztec’s head, desperately clinging to him in this moment of revelations.

Chapter Text

Mizrak gave a soft groan of pain as he was carried; he was limp in the vampire's hold, too weak to support himself now. Olrox had picked him up when he’d been unable to stand; he was weightless to the vampire, or so it felt given Olrox’s confident strides. His eyes fluttered here or there as he struggled to keep himself focused, aware of his surroundings, and not drug under by the pain of his wound. He groaned, grimacing as he was laid upon a bed. He looked tiredly at Olrox, who had come to sit on the edge of the bed, Mizrak’s breath panting despite his having played no part in his being set upon the bed. Olrox was looming beside him. “You’ve seen the devil then, waiting for me.” His breaths came out stilted, his voice weak.

“Not the devil, no, and I think he was waiting for someone else.”

Mizrak’s eyes welled up with tears as he rasped. “Still, the devil will be waiting, an eternity of torment, agony upon agony with no release.” The monk's tears slid past his eyes, trailing down the sides of his face as he said. “I’m afraid, Olrox.”

Olrox let his hand come down to entangle their hands, attempting to soothe the human who was dying before his eyes. His life fading with every frantic pulse of that beautiful heart, more and more blood leaving him from that wound that afflicted him. “There’s no need to be afraid, my love. Not of the devil, at least, the devil is easy to cheat.”

He leaned over, opening his mouth, and he closed his eyes as he sank his fangs into Mizrak’s neck. He heard the man groan, the sharp, bitten-off noise of pain before he tiredly gave in to Olrox’s hold on his neck. It was harrowing, this moment, he finally got to taste Mizrak, but it was now tainted by the man’s Impending death. His hand came up to embrace the man’s face, cradling him as he drank from him.

He tasted divine, like the sweetest of wines, a fragrant bouquet of flavors that spiced his tongue as he drank from the moaning man. He felt Mizrak’s hand come up, holding his shoulder, but the man didn’t fight against him. He simply embraced him, holding him in his fear, no doubt. Olrox pulled more and more blood from his lover, his eyes opening to glare at the bedspread below them as he heard the tell-tale change in Mizrak’s heartbeat. He was nearly spent. Olrox had drained him closer to death, though he was saddened to know how close he’d already been to it.

He pulled back with a soft gasp, his lips stained with Mizrak’s blood. He glared as he saw how pale Mizrak was, how distant his gaze was. He glanced as Mizrak’s hand slid free from his shoulder, too weak to hold onto him anymore. It fell across the man’s wounded abdomen and lay still.

Olrox reached up and bit into his wrist, leaning over, he gently cradled the back of his lover's head and arched it carefully as he placed his bleeding wrist to Mizrak’s lips. “Drink, my love.” He watched with hardened eyes as his blood trailed between the man’s lips, wetting Mizrak’s tongue before the monk swallowed instinctively to having his mouth moistened by an outside force. He smiled bitterly as he watched Mizrak forcefully drink from him, the paltry swallows of a dying man.

Olrox didn’t pull away, didn’t release him from this action until he heard Mizrak’s heart change pace. Pulling back, gently lowering his lover's head upon the pillow, he allowed his wrist to heal as he laid his hand upon the man’s chest, above his heart which was fluttering wildly. Struggling to continue beating despite how much blood Mizrak had lost, it’s newest change, the stuttering skipped beats proved that his blood was changing Mizrak.

Olrox was already mourning it, and unable to handle it, he leaned over and set his head upon Mizrak’s chest. He closed his eyes and focused on its beat, aware that this would be his last chance to listen to it. He listened to it falter, he heard its last breaths within his lover's chest. His eyes clenched when he heard Mizrak take his last human breath; it was weak, barely any breath in his lungs. His chest rose and fell, that one last time before falling still. The human’s heart gave a valiant effort, desperate to live despite oxygen steadily being robbed of it now that Mizrak wasn’t breathing.

“It’s alright, my love, you don’t need to struggle anymore.” He stroked his lover's chest as if to soothe the man’s heart, to tell it to stop, to let itself fall into its eternal rest. It beat a handful of times, weak, fluttering beats, then it skipped a beat, a slower flutter, another skipped beat, the weakest of movement, and then, nothing. Olrox sighed as he heard Mizrak’s heart stop beating; his lover's mortal life was over.

He pulled back, staring mournfully at the place where his heart now dwelt, silent. He glanced at his lover's face, so pale in his death, having lost nearly all of his blood by the end of things. He reached up and gently closed his lover's sightless eyes, he didn’t want to see that death. He didn’t want to see how eerily close he’d come to losing him for good.

It would take time for the change to take hold, but he trusted in his abilities to turn another. Mizrak had swallowed enough of his blood, it would take his lover's body just needed a bit of a rest before it could wake once more. His hand rubbed the area where his lover's heart had gone still, not to soothe Mizrak so much as himself, he’d never hear its beat again.

He looked away from his lover, he knew what this could spell for them. Ruin. He didn’t know how Mizrak would take the change, he-He hadn’t asked permission, too fearful that the human was fading so fast. He knew what this meant to Mizrak, how he hadn’t wished to cast away the sun or his god...But he’d been selfish in that moment, desperate to keep the monk at his side.

Mizrak would live, he’d become a vampire, but would he live this new life? Whether or not he hated Olrox now was yet to be seen; all he could do was hope that he could beg forgiveness for this atrocity, that his lover wouldn’t follow through with those early threats...He didn’t want to see Mizrak walk into the sunlight.

He ground his teeth at the thought of all that had happened, he’d failed to protect Mizrak, he’d been caught up in the battle...Too distracted by the major threat to see the threats looming around Mizrak. His lover might have lived if he’d paid closer attention to where he was, but it was too late for that. There was no going back, he couldn’t return Mizrak’s mortal life to him. All he could do was stay at his side, try to guide him in this new life, and protect him now that he’d be weak in the form of a newborn vampire. He hoped that was enough, that Mizrak would see fit to forgive him, that he wouldn’t leave Olrox despite his selfish actions.

Time passed, and with it, Mizrak’s change took form. Olrox had taken the time to strip his lover of his soiled clothing, of the ruined chain mail that hadn’t protected his lover when he’d needed it most. He’d discarded it in anger, it now lay slumped against the far wall while the rest of Mizrak’s clothing had been discarded gently to the floor beside the bed. He’d bathed Mizrak’s flesh clean of the blood that had been robbed from him by his wound. He’d found solace in watching the wound close, the first real proof that the change was happening.

Now, he smiled softly upon seeing that Mizrak’s ears were steadily pointing, he reached out and stroked it. Delighting in its new beautiful form, he distantly wondered whether or not he could convince Mizrak to get them pierced. It might be too soon he wagered, it was probably some stupid sin to deface ones body in such a way. He snorted just thinking of that, he’d leave it for a later discussion. At the moment, he had other things to worry about.

He gently reached out and carefully pulled his lover's mouth open by gently grasping his chin. He stared at them a moment, these new fangs of his. They were beautiful, a sign of his new immortal life, but he feared the cost of them. He released Mizrak’s chin, allowing his lover's mouth to fall closed once more.

He stroked his cheek, gently embracing his flesh. Mizrak was cold, and he hated it. It would change once he fed, but for now, he’d remain cold, and Olrox couldn’t stand the proof of his death. The reminder of having failed him, the reminder that he might have broken what they had by being selfish and turning Mizrak without his permission.

His thoughts were waylaid by a soft groan, finally, Mizrak was stirring. He watched as Mizrak struggled to wake, his brow furrowing just a bit as the newly turned vampire gave a soft moan.

“It’s alright, take your time.” He soothed the fledgling. Mizrak seemed to follow that advice, given how he went silent for a short time. Another groan left him a few moments later, the man’s brow deepening its furrow before the man’s eyes fluttered. It took a moment, but they opened fully, and Olrox was gifted the sight of those red eyes. They’d change, morph into their supernatural counterpart once Mizrak was better fed, but for now, they’d remain red as proof of his new life.

He waited, wanting to see if Mizrak would take notice of him on his own or if he’d be distracted by the new sights and smells that his new body allowed him. It was rather cute how Mizrak frowned, his eyes shifting minutely as he stared up at the ceiling. Curious, he glanced up himself, he shook his head as he looked back down upon realizing that Mizrak was distracted by the folds of the canopy bed's cloth. No doubt he was finding all the little imperfections the woven cloth had.

Swallowing nervously, he stated. “Mizrak.” Like a live wire, the fledgling's eyes shot down, locating him instantly. He smiled as his lover stared back at him with wide eyes. Yes, seeing people clearly was rather surprising. He let his lover take his fill of his appearance for a moment before stating. “I know it’s distracting at first, you’ll get used to it.”

“O-Olrox?”

Olrox tilted his head, a soft smile gracing his features, his hair trailing across his lover's stomach from where he loomed beside him. “Yes, love?” He saw the warring thoughts, the confusion, then the realization as Mizrak gasped. His eyes staring back at him in shock, he nodded, verifying for his lover what he remembered. “I’m sorry.” He stated softly. “I couldn’t let you go, I know that’s selfish of me...That you might hate me for this, but I couldn’t just let death have you.” He sighed when Mizrak closed his eyes and tears began to form, to slide down the side of his face. He watched painfully as Mizrak’s arm came up to drape over his eyes as his body shook with the power of his sobs.

He was frozen, unable to do anything, afraid to reach out and touch Mizrak...Afraid of being spurned in the man’s grief of his mortal life being over. He feared this reaction, this visceral pain that his lover was experiencing. He longed to reach out and touch him, to gather him up and embrace him, but he knew it wasn’t his place any longer to be so bold with the man. It was up to Mizrak what happened next, and he’d abide by whatever the monk chose...Provided it wasn’t to watch him walk into the sunlight. Time seemed to hold still for them, Mizrak cried, and Olrox was powerless, forced to watch his lover's grief.

“I-I didn’t-”

Olrox looked away, already prepared for this sentence. “I know this wasn’t what you wanted...I’m sorry.” He ground his jaw together, his fangs grinding with his lower teeth as he waited for the accusations, the hate.

“I-I was scared.”

“I know.” Olrox sighed. “I know you were.” It had poured off of him like rain water, he hadn’t needed the mans tears to know how scared he was, he hadn’t needed his words to know. It had just hurt to see further proof of it.

“I-I didn’t want-” The man gave a choked-off sob.

Olrox continued to stare at the wall as he heard that deep sorrow in his lover's voice. “I’m sorry, Mizrak.”

“I-I didn’t...I didn’t want to go.”

Olrox frowned. He glanced back at Mizrak. “Go where?” Then he remembered Mizrak’s fear of the devil, and he sighed. “You didn’t want to go to hell.” That blasted place that the man’s god deemed blasphemous souls to go to. He knew Mizrak had warred with things since meeting him, since they became entangled with one another. He’d spoken plainly about it after they’d revealed their passion for one another. He’d still agreed to go home with him, despite all his fears; he’d agreed to leave Europe and come home with him.

“I-I feared its unending torment...I-I feared that just punishment.” Mizrak sobbed. “I-I feared God's wrath.” He choked out amid fresh tears, leaving his eyes. His hands clenched into fists, his teeth ground together as he gasped. “I-I didn’t want to leave you.”

Olrox’s eyes widened at the admission, he looked at his lover in a new light. “You didn’t wish to leave me.” Mizrak shook his head beneath his arm, despite his crying, the man had said something quite startling.

“I-I feared this...I-I feared what it meant to my soul, I-I couldn’t...I-I couldn’t speak of this-” Mizrak’s body shook with his harsh sobs. “E-Even then, lying in wait for death to claim me...I-I couldn’t find the words.”

“Words for what?” Olrox pressed, curious to know what had been the great regret his lover spoke of. “What did you need to say?”

“I-I couldn’t ask...I-I couldn’t say yes.” Mizrak gave a choked-off cry as he finally said. “I-I couldn’t ask you to save me.”

Olrox’ eyes softened as he realized what had warred with Mizrak in those final moments, that his lover didn’t hate this new life, though he might be scared of it...He’d wanted to be saved. He would have said yes if they’d had the time, if Olrox had asked him. He leaned forward, gently reaching out to grasp Mizrak’s wrist, he pulled his lovers arm away from his eyes.

He smiled gently when Mizrak opened those beautiful ruby eyes. “I feared you would hate me for this, but now, now I am glad that I was so selfish. That I can have you with me forever.” He kissed the fledgling, delighting in how Mizrak wrapped his arms around him, desperately clinging to him. They kissed for countless minutes, long enough for them both to feel soothed. When Olrox pulled back, drawing himself more into an upright position than the languid lying pose they’d adopted for their kiss. He chuckled upon realizing that Mizrak didn’t release him, he hummed when Mizrak buried his face in his neck, the man's breath ghosting his flesh. He reached up and stroked his lover's head. “It’s fine, love.”

“I’m afraid, Olrox.”

“You have nothing to fear any longer.” He soothed as he wrapped his arm around the man while the other still cradled the man’s head to his neck. He knew he’d need to broach the topic of Mizrak feeding, the fledgling would need a hearty meal now that he’d awoken from his deathly slumber. Mizrak would most likely be soothed to know that he could feed off of him, at least for a while. He wanted Mizrak to adapt to their real prey sooner rather than later, but for now, while his lover adapted to what it meant to be a vampire, he could help him along.

He let Mizrak cling to him for a while; the man’s breath tickled his flesh and ghosted his hair, but he didn’t shift about to make himself more comfortable. He simply cradled his lover in return, grateful that the scent of his tears was fading as he calmed. Knowing they had limited time, that the sun rising would force Mizrak to sleep, he said. “You need to eat.” He felt Mizrak stiffen. “You can feed off of me, Mizrak. You don’t need to harm a human, not yet, at least.” He nodded when Mizrak pulled back to stare at him.

“I can?”

“Yes.” Olrox nodded. “A good way to...Practice.” He smirked at the notion that a vampire might need to practice how to use their fangs. He reached back and swept his hair behind his shoulder and neck. “My blood is old blood, it’ll satiate you easier than a human would, and right now, as a fledgling, you need that strength.”

Mizrak swallowed as he stared at the beautiful neck laid out before him. “I can’t, Olrox...It’s blood.”

Olrox snorted at the paltry argument. “And you’re a vampire, you’re not mortal anymore, Mizrak and I’ve already told you it won’t taste like the blood you remember.” Knowing that some helpful guidance might spur things along, he reached up and with a calculating slice of a sharpened nail cut into his neck. He felt the blood trail down from the cut he didn’t allow to heal, he saw how Mizrak’s nostrils flared at the scent of fresh blood, his new instincts lighting up like a fire.

“Come, love.” He drew him back towards himself, hopeful that once he got closer, the blood lust would guide him. Olrox groaned when Mizrak lunged forward the few inches between them and sank his fangs into him, It was a unique pleasure. One only vampires could achieve with each other, he sighed as Mizrak began to feed on him.

He smirked to himself as he heard the pleasurable noises his fledgling made upon tasting blood for the first time. He reached up and stroked Mizrak’s head, gently soothing him as he satiated himself on Olrox’s blood. “That’s it...Just keep drinking.” Mizrak didn’t seem inclined to stop, which was a good sign, his earlier inhibitions about drinking blood having fallen aside now that he’d tasted it for himself. He wasn’t surprised when he felt blood trailing down his neck. Mizrak was a newborn vampire; he didn’t know how not to make a mess of his prey. It would be easy enough to clean up, and he could tell with the great mouthfuls Mizrak was taking that the man was swallowing far more than he was losing by being gutsy.

Olrox sighed, relishing the closeness, the simple pleasure of having another's fangs inside himself, and the drawing sensation of his blood leaving him. Normally, that wasn’t a sensation a vampire favored, minus if it was done during sex, but knowing he was feeding Mizrak made it just as pleasurable. He hummed when Mizrak’s hard pulls, his lustful swallows, began to taper off.

“You can take more, my love.” Yet, Mizrak didn’t, he continued to weakly nurse a moment before his fangs removed themselves from Olrox’s neck. Fearing that this was the return of the man’s morals, he told him. “You weren’t hurting me, and the more blood you take when you’re a newborn, the faster you’ll grow in strength.” He wanted Mizrak to grow strong, to find strength in the blood he took for himself; he didn’t want Mizrak to stay vulnerable...Not as his other lover had. IF that meant enticing him to drink more than he’d do it, yet, he was stilled from doing anything when Mizrak spoke against his flesh.

“I’m full.”

Oh. Well, that hadn’t been what he was anticipating, but then it dawned on him, and he remembered. Old blood. His decade away from his previous lover had made him forget how satiated he could make another vampire due to his centuries-old blood. “That’s fine, you can eat again later.” He got a tired hum, and reassured that Mizrak didn’t appear totally against feeding again, he drew the man away from himself. He tsked at the sight of his messy beard and mouth, lord knew what his neck looked like. He could feel trails of blood going down the side of his neck. They were both in dire need of straightening up.

He left a satiated Mizrak on the bed and walked into the bathroom. He huffed at the sight of himself, yes, his lover was a messy eater. Shaking his head fondly, he grabbed a wash cloth and got it wet, cleansing himself. He walked back into the bedroom only to smirk upon finding Mizrak curled up on the bed. What a good meal wouldn’t do for a fledgling. He walked around the bed and gently reached out to wipe at the man’s face. He got a tired noise, but otherwise, Mizrak didn’t stir. Once his lover didn’t appear to have killed someone, he tossed the washcloth into the pile of Mizrak’s clothes.

He glanced at the window and scowled upon seeing that dawn was quickly coming, he climbed onto the bed beside Mizrak, reaching out to stroke the man’s face. “Love, you’re going to go to sleep soon, I’ll be here when you wake, so don’t fret.” He nodded when Mizrak opened his eyes to frown at him. “Fledglings sleep during the day.” He reminded his lover. “The sun will pull you to sleep, I’ll watch over you, and come nightfall, we can leave this place.”

“We’ll leave...Go to your homeland, like we talked about.”

Olrox was pleased to hear that their plans hadn’t changed in the fledgling's mind. “I’ll charter a boat for us. It will take a while to get there, but I can feed you.” He’d just have to gorge himself on blood beforehand, but Mizrak didn’t need to know those details. He got a small nod from the man and reassured him. “You’ll enjoy my homeland, it’s beautiful, and there is so much for you to see.”

Mizrak smirked. “Your great temples.”

Olrox chuckled as the man remembered that detail of his home. “Yes, those are impressive.”

“I-I can still enter a church, I know this...But I still fear what this means for my soul, Olrox.”

Olrox reached out and stroked his lover's face. “You have a soul, and no devil can reach you now.”

“But can god?”

Olrox’s features tensed before he shook his head. “Your god can’t punish you, you’re not mortal anymore, Mizrak.”

“But will he still hear my prayers?”

That he wasn’t sure of, mostly because he didn’t believe in Mizrak’s god. Still, he based it on what he knew of the gods he’d encountered before. “He can hear you, I just don’t know if he’ll answer.”

Mizrak huffed. “God does not answer every prayer he hears.”

“Then you won’t feel a difference now.”

Mizrak hummed; he supposed that was true enough. He frowned when a sense of fatigue he’d only felt once before began to draw upon him. “O-Olrox...S-Somethings wrong.” Was this god’s will? Taking notice of how he’d circumvented his desires by turning into a vampire? Some way to cast him down to the devil despite Olrox’s gift. His eyes began to flutter, he groaned even as Olrox crooned.

“It’s just sleep, you’re just going to sleep, Mizrak.”

“F-Feels l-like death.” He rasped tiredly, struggling to stay afloat of that feeling that threatened to drown him.

“It’s not death.” Olrox huffed. “It’s just the sun pulling you to sleep. Stop fighting it, just relax and go to sleep.” He got a tired groan, it was clear that Mizrak was still trying to fight its pull, resistant to this supernatural force. He knew that Mizrak couldn’t win that battle, and he hated seeing him this way, fearful of the unknown. “I promise you, death is not coming for you, just go to sleep.” A weaker groan sounded as the man's eyes finally fluttered closed for good. Mizrak’s face was still morphed into a scowl, but even that didn’t last long. The fledgling sighed, and then he was gone. Olrox smiled, leaning forward, he kissed his lover's slack lips before pulling back. “Goodnight, love.”

********

Mizrak stilled and glanced back at the inn, it held so many memories. It had been where he’d first started sinning with Olrox, where he’d found love in the vampire. It’s where he had died and been reborn, it was everything and so it felt quite strange to be leaving it.

“Someday we could return and see if it still stands up to time.” Olrox offered when he saw how his lover was staring so intently at the inn they’d just left. He knew what memories it held for the pair of them, and it was only natural that his lover hold some sentimentality for it.

“Do you think it will?” Mizrak glanced at Olrox.

“These are old buildings, they’ve withstood time quite well...I do not know when we’ll return, but I have some faith that it will remain.”

Mizrak smiled, glancing back at the building once more. It gave him an odd sense of...Being home. Something he’d only ever felt in church, but he knew they couldn’t stay. They’d be far safer returning to Olrox’s country, and he saw how eager the man was to distance them from where the fighting had taken place. He knew, he sensed, Olrox’s fear for him. He knew that stemmed from having lost his previous lover while he’d been too young to defend himself, but he didn’t really have those fears. Even now, he was adorned with his sword and dagger, which could defend him from any human, or so he believed. He looked back at Olrox, and he had faith in him as well. Whatever fears Olrox might hold, he would see soothed in time. He smiled at the vampire and said. “Then I suppose we should be going.”

Olrox nodded, pleased to hear that the man didn’t wish to linger too much longer. He was eager to get the man aboard their ship and safely store him in the cabin below, to ensure that the sun wouldn’t disturb them while he guarded his lover as he slept throughout the day. It would be a long journey home, but he’d fed handsomely, enough to keep himself satiated while ensuring that Mizrak didn’t suffer from hunger. He was eager to head home, to protect them in his native land and see Mizrak grow old, grow strong, beside him.

Olrox looked up at the inn and smirked, it was a beautiful start to forever, but it was time to go and find eternity. He grasped Mizrak’s hand and gave a gentle tug to lead the man away from his trance of the inn, he nodded when the man smiled at him. “Until later.”

Mizrak nodded his head. “Later.” Mizrak agreed before adding with a smile. “I have temples to see.”

Olrox delighted in the apparent excitement his lover had for seeing the temples of his people. “And so much more, love, and we have the time to see it all.” He drew Mizrak away from the inn and towards the dock that would see them home.