Perfect Match

[Trillian]

Instinctively, Mick attempted to pull away but he might as well have been trying to escape a locked vice. All that happened was his muscles tensed beneath his clothes. He couldn't even make the jerking motion that was required to snatch his arm back. Never had he felt more helpless than he had at this point.

With that one unsuccessful attempt he stared at William, eyes large and round as it finally sank in that he was completely helpless. Oh, of course he'd known from the start that the vampire could have picked him up and broken him in two, that he was at William's mercy from the very beginning, but that had been an educated understanding rather than a belief to his very core. He felt that now, how insignificant he truly was, and there was a long pause between the question asked of him and the answer, and instead of his usual machismo, Mick appealed to William's reason to justify himself.

"Sh-she answers to you, she won't upset you by coming after me," Mick replied, thinking of William 'making calls' on her and how she'd relented when he'd ordered her to open the cage and also that he'd brought blood to her, blood that he was pretty sure was rare. "Being yours protects me."

It was the first time he'd indentured himself verbally to William and it had come out of his mouth without a second thought.

[Ehcorn]

He stared at Mick, his immediate frustration with the human shifting to a broader frustration that spanned hundreds of years. Mick was an infant, new to the ways of his own world. How could he be expected to know the politics of a group that operated in the shadows of an already secretive supernatural community?

"It’s not that simple," he sighed.

William looked like he might explain further, but a black globe with a red flashing light looming high in the corner of the stairwell caught his attention and he held his tongue. Even though they had stepped outside of Edith’s office and closed the door behind them, she could still see and hear them. Technology gave vampires an edge they’d be fools not to use — especially young ones like Edith.

He pulled on Mick again, this time to drag him up the stairs and through the second heavy steel door that emptied them out into the garage. William didn’t slow or release him until they got to the van. His mouth a severe line, he opened the back and chucked his bag in. As soon as he closed the door, William was in the passenger seat and pulling on his seat belt to snap it in place.

"There’s one more stop we need to make before returning home," he said, waiting for Mick to start the van again so he could punch another address into the navigation system.

[Trillian]

Being manhandled wasn't something Mick would usually put up with but this time he said nothing and his thoughts didn't stray too far from that either. He didn't question William's assurance that the situation was far from simple, he believed it. Moving quicker down the stairs to the van than expected, Mick clambered into the vehicle and started it up, only vaguely aware of the vampire getting himself sorted beside him.

"Another one?" Mick repeated with surprise. "But you're wounded," he said, though the wounds had healed by now and the only evidence of William's fight with the werewolf were the blooms of crimson on his torn clothing. "Don't you need to drink or something?"

[Ehcorn]

William paused mid-press of a button, the pad of his index finger flush against a now brightly-lit computer screen, and regarded Mick with a raised eyebrow. He could see himself through the human’s eyes — his untidy hair, bloodied face, and torn clothing — and should’ve felt an urge to make himself presentable again, but he’d waged and won a battle, hadn’t he? His disheveled state was proof he’d fought a werewolf on the full moon. According to Mick, his display of prowess had shifted him from useless, stick-up-his ass Fancy Pants to capable, intimidating Badass.

But it didn’t seem the mortal’s favorable opinion of him stretched farther than the werewolf’s cage. He spoke of his concern and mistaken belief that he needed to feed in order to continue to their next stop.

"Why?" William asked, gaze roving from Mick’s face to his neck and back again. His eyes narrowed. "Are you offering?"

[Trillian]

His mind was conflicted, he both wanted to whisper yes and cry out no. Both of them had him shrinking a little in his seat, swallowing down the fear (excitement?) that made his heart beat a little faster. At no point did he break eye contact with William though his expression shuffled through a few different emotions before he spoke.

"I meant," he croaked, then cleared his throat, "isn't there a club for bloodsuckers near here?"

When William didn't immediately speak in the two seconds Mick gave him, he filled the silence with more talk.

"If you drink from me it'll just be awkward. Unprofessional," he said, a blush creeping into his face from his neck. His skin felt warm and he knew he was showing his embarrassment, which served to embarrass him further. He didn't want to say that he turned into a hornbeast when he was drunk from. He held his breath so he wouldn't talk again, though the silence that came after his declaration was difficult to bear.

[Ehcorn]

William slid his finger from the center console and gathered his hand into a loose fist that he rested on his thigh. He continued to stare at Mick, his heavily-lidded eyes shifting, narrowing, and widening while he processed the human’s contradictory thoughts and reactions to him. Had Mick already forgotten that he could read his mind as easily as he read a book? He flipped to the chapter on Mick’s past experiences with vampires and sniffed a disdainful laugh. Leather creaked as he twisted and angled his shoulder against his seat to look down his long nose at Mick’s lap.

"If I drank from you, I wouldn’t be the one who made it unprofessional." He lifted his chin and his eyes, gazing on Mick's face again. "But yes, there is a club for bloodsuckers near here. Venture. We won’t be going there, though. There's no need."

William didn't elaborate. He looked on impassively as he allowed silence to rise between them once more. Let the little shit squirm and blush and dig more holes to bury himself in.

Let him suffer.

[Trillian]

Mick grimaced when told the unprofessionalism would stem from him. He finally lowered his gaze, confused and frustrated by not knowing what next to say or do. There were a lot of ... feelings... that he was having that he didn't understand and they were pressing a weight on him that stifled his breath in a way that was entirely unpleasant.

He released the breath he held slowly, trying not to make a noise out of it because he didn't want to be accused of sighing or being disrespectful. He'd heard the way William had thrown his 'bloodsuckers' word back at him and it was only then that he'd realised what he'd said. Talking without thinking was a foolish endeavour but so was thinking about talking when hanging around a mindreader.

He was screwed either way.

There's no need. No need to drink from others? Because Mick was available? Or no need to drink at all because he'd healed and the rumours Mick heard about vampires needing blood to top up their heals and powers was bullshit?

Without replying, he got the van started and moving and he followed the GPS to the next destination. It took a long time for the blush to leave his cheeks.