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Scott Goldsmith.
An alluring and calculating elder vampire, who effortlessly charms those around him.
His Sire.
They're the first fledgling he's had in 600 years. Can't help but feel a little special. That's why they can't stop thinking about their Sire. Surely.
Not due to the elder's pure white hair that falls past his shoulders gracefully. Not the fact that every part of his appearance was constructed to form the ideal, refusing to be seen as any less than perfect.
His white hair that's currently loosely braided due to Shelby's pleading. The few free strands of hair framing his face, contrasting against his crimson eyes. His eyes piercing your soul, watching those inferior to him—which happens to be the majority—as if he knows every possible secret you hold close. Pale hands with the tips of his nails stained in a crimson hue. Free of imperfections.
A crimson coloured vest embellished with golden accents covering his white dress shirt, shaping his figure. A ruffled white cravat standing out amongst the reds and blacks. A high collared black jacket, and black dress pants that flare out at the knees, tied together at the ends with a golden thread.
Always found smiling softly, performing and refusing to let his mask slip. He's perfect, and worked hard to now be perceived that way with little effort. Pyro knows it's an act, but they can't help but fall for his Sire.
What wouldn’t they give to hold their Sire’s hand. To be held by him, to hold him. To kiss him. If not to just stay close to him, for eternity. But they don’t deserve someone like Scott Goldsmith.
A white dress shirt with the first couple buttons undone that exposes his chest and is covered by a small red corset. A black jacket worn on top with golden cuff details, and black striped pants. Even dressed in an outfit gifted to them by their Sire, they still pale in comparison.
With the unkempt stubble on his face. With his sickly grey and scarred skin that's been ruined from the constant battles with holy water, and dealing with the other fledgings retaliating. He's less than ideal, nowhere near perfect. Undeserving of the elder's attention, no matter how much he needs it.
“Pyro?”
Snapping them out of their thoughts, they make eye contact with their Sire. Pyro’s not sure when he moved, but Scott now stood right in front of the scholar, with his hands placed on their sides as he leaned in close. Too close.
“Y-Yes, Sire?”
“What are you thinking about? You're awfully silent.” Scott points out, tilting his head to the side slightly causing his golden earrings to shift in response.
“N-Nothing really!” Pyro stutters out, shifting his eyes away from his Sire nervously. “It’s nothing you'd need to concern yourself with.”
Scott hums in response, not happy with their answer. He moves away from the scholar, causing their body to relax only to tense back up slightly as the elder sits down right beside them. Turning to face his fledgling, Scott pats on his lap, signalling Pyro to lay his head down. Without a second thought, Pyro accepts, like by instinct. He rests his head on his lap, looking up at the roof past his Sire, avoiding direct eye contact.
Scott runs a hand through their hair, slowly detangling bits as he massages their head gently. The two of them sit in silence for a couple minutes as the elder tidies their appearance, whether that's out of fondness or a need for his coven to be up to his standards.
Brushing a hair out of Pyro's face, he presses a quick kiss to his forehead, before calmly addressing his fledgling.
“Sire?! W-What was that for?” Pyro squeaks out, quickly sitting up for their position, holding the same spot on their forehead.
“Are you going to be honest with me now?” He dismisses, changing the topic. Scott turns to face the fledgling that can barely muster the courage to return the glance.
What is Sire playing at? The scholar ponders, not sure how exactly to respond, instead pinching the sides of his hand to ground himself. He can't be a mess, especially not when he's unsure what the elder is trying to do.
Snapping them out of their thoughts, Scott turns their head to force eye contact. The same rehearsed smile was found on his face. The same piercing stare. What does he know? He seems to be content with something.
“I-I was thinking about you,” Pyro responds quietly, eyes drifting off into the distance trying to avoid his gaze as his face is held in place. Scott hums in response, waiting for the fledging to continue. “...About holding your hand.”
“Really?” Scott purrs, letting go of their chin. If Pyro was capable of it, they're certain their face would be bright red.
Noticing a shift in his expression, Pyro tries to figure out what the elder is thinking. A bright smile, subtly baring his fangs, he seems more amused than usual, but that doesn’t mean he's happy with the confession.
“I'm sorry, Sire.” Pyro breaks the silence, trying to sit up from the ledge to create distance before Scott pulls him back down. Instead of moving his hand away, the noble interlocks their fingers, sitting closer.
If his heart could beat, it would be out of control. To be this close. To have his attention like this. It's more than he deserves.
Breaking the silence, their Sire presses a kiss onto the back of their hand, causing them to flinch. “Anything else you were thinking about, Pyro?” They don’t respond, not sure what to say, what they can say. Instead, unwillingly their eyes drift to their Sire's lips, giving away their deeper thoughts. Scott leans in closer, and places a kiss on his cheek.
He flinches again, backing away without a second thought, not prepared for this situation. Holding hands was one thing, the thought of something more intimate happening was beyond him. Pushing his back against the wall, the scholar finds himself trapped. As always. Always finding himself in the elder's clutches, never acting in a way he can't predict.
Leaning in their Sire comes close, placing each hand on either side of the fledgling. The two are close enough to feel each other's breath. Scott remains silent as Pyro tries to settle their breathing—not that they need to—and compose themselves.
“Pyro.”
“Yes, Sire?”
“Are you fond of me?”
“Of course, Sire.”
“I'm also fond of you.” His Sire plainly replies before placing a kiss on his collarbone. “You are my first in many centuries.” He continues, placing another kiss on the bite mark he'd left months prior. “You're special.” Another kiss to the cheek. “So, is there anything you'd like from me?” Backing away slightly, he smiles, waiting for a response.
Reaching out for his Sire, he twirls a loose strand of hair in his fingers, admiring the noble's beauty. Trying to build up the courage for more. Scott watches patiently, like he's waiting for a cat to approach. Leaning in, Pyro places a kiss on the elder's cheek, close to his lips but too nervous to commit.
“Oh? Not on the lips?” He questions, keeping the short distance between both of them. “Or are you too shy?” Smirking, Scott pecks their rough lips, a whine escaping the scholar as he leaves too quickly. “I suppose it's your turn?”
Despite being nervous, Scott is giving the fledgling an opportunity he's been craving for months. To kiss his Sire, who's captured his undying attention since his death. Mustering the courage, Pyro kisses Scott before being pulled in deeper by the more experienced Sire.
Taking advantage of the undead aspects of vampirism, the two refuse breaks as breathing is unnecessary. The noble takes one of their hands and guides it to his waist, which Pyro happily holds.
A hand brushes through the scholar's hair, tangling his claws deep into, refusing to let them part. Not that Pyro would ever dream of it, he didn't want this to end.
Softly nibbling on their lips, Pyro lets out a soft moan, as Scott parts the kiss. It's over too soon.
“And Pyro?”
“Yes, Sire?”
“Just Scott is fine.”