Nothing\'s Free

[Trillian]

Lazarus had lost his shirt in the meantime, leaving the article lying on the floor in a crumpled mess.  He hadn\'t counted on the youth having a shower for thirty minutes but he\'d found a way to amuse himself by imagining all manner of scenarios.

When Taelon finally appeared in the doorway, Lazarus was stylishly lounging on the bed on his side, his elbow on the pillow and his head resting on his open hand, fingers in his hair.  His other hand was resting on the mattress in front of his flat stomach, his jeans-clad legs crossed at the ankles.  There was a crooked half-smile on his face as he beckoned the youth to join him on the bed, first gesturing and then patting the mattress before him.

"Take your shirt off," he said, wondering why the other had even bothered getting dressed.  Lazarus was only going to rid them both of clothes anyway.

[Macabre Beauty]

Once again, the youth noted, pretty boy was posed like a prima donna. Though it was possible this posturing was less intentional than the last, something whispered in the back of his mind that it wasn’t. Not that it mattered really; it was simply amusing to watch. Lips still quirked in that expressive smirk, Taelon lazily pushed off the frame letting his arms fall easily to his side. He lingered a moment in the archway, watching the blond that much longer, before he crossed over to the bed.
 
Bare feet padded silently over the carpet and a hand dropped to run over the coverlet upon reaching the mattress’ edge. Much like the rest of the flat, the bed spoke of the elegance and comfort the ancient dwelt in. Elegance similar to what he’d left behind. His smirk growing with the thought, emerald eyes lifted to the vampire to view the elder through dark lashes.
 
“My shirt hm?” Knowing the article of clothing would’ve hardly compounded what the other was supposed to be after, he offered Lazarus a small shrug before turning his back to him and sitting upon the bed’s edge. Slender fingers slipped to play thoughtlessly with the bottom hem, as he quite briefly contemplated the request. Without voicing his thought process, or giving much indication to it at all actually, he worked the skin-grabbing vinyl over his head and tossed it aside.
 
With a shiver, the damp strands of hair cool against his bared skin, Taelon turned to draw a knee up on the bed and to get a better look at the lounging male. Without the shirt, it was easier to recognize Lazarus for what he was…The pale flesh an intense contrast to his own. Lingering there, he watched the elder in wait a dark brow lifting as if to ask.. ‘what now’.

[Trillian]

Lazarus gazed at the smooth back of the youth, desiring to run his hands over what would no doubt be warm and lovely to the touch.  When Taelon turned as he did, the knee a barrier between himself and Lazarus, the vampire had to wonder if perhaps the boy was intimidated and if this was the reason why he was stalling the inevitable.  Had he never donated his blood before?  Was he... frightened?

Lazarus smiled and took breath in through his nose, not scenting fear.  What was the reason behind Taelon\'s purposeful manner then?  If not fear, perhaps rebellion.  Already?  No, he\'d moved fast with Chance and ruined the natural flow of things.  He would not do the same with Taelon, though there was no need not to see things through if the boy was obeying - though distinctly waiting for each order and carrying it through specifically.  Lazarus could fix that.

"Lie upon the bed," Lazarus said in response to the expression thrown towards him, "and make yourself available to me, to do as I wish."

Such an open request, referencing the bite and alluding to so much more.  He wondered what Taelon would do and say.  Let the games begin.