Awkward --PG-13
Posted: Sun Feb 15, 2009 6:37 am
A/N For those who want a timeline, this story comes between “Consequences” and the beginning of “Management Training.” Just so you know.
Halfway between wisdom and desire ... there's just...
awkward
Josef ran a finger around the inside of his collar, and stared at his phone. He knew what he needed to do, knew what he had to do, but he was hesitating, and it annoyed him. He rose and walked toward the windows of his study, wondering what the damn problem was. All he had to do was hit one button, and say, “Lucky, please come to me.” He’d done it dozens of times, with her. What had happened between them shouldn’t have any bearing on it. She was there to give him blood…she’d always said so. So why hesitate? Why not just call, and let things get back to normal?
Maybe because it would be a lie.
A stiff scotch didn’t help. It tasted flat, without any blood, and the burn was just a burn. It dulled no edges of thought, soothed no images from his brain. Dammit, what was he going to do? Keep avoiding it? Avoiding her? He was a vampire, she was his freshie. That was the relationship. If she thought it was otherwise, she was mistaken. Okay, she hadn’t said a thing, hadn’t given him any looks that were out of line, since. He’d made a point of choosing other freshies, doing it right in front of her. After all, she had to know. He felt cruel and strange, and that was just not normal for him. After all, he had freshie management down to a science, didn’t he?
This was stupid.
He stabbed a finger at the phone, listened to it ring, frowning.
“Josef.” Lucky’s voice was sleepy, and there was no tension in her voice that he could hear.
“Lucky. Please…come to me?” That hadn’t come out as he’d planned. Less of an order, more of a request.
“Of course.” Her answer was exactly as it had always been. “I’ll be there at once.”
He stared out the floor to ceiling windows, to the lights below that always fascinated him. When he’d been young—centuries ago, it seemed like millennia, right now—nights had been dark. At this hour, in what passed for a great city in those days, there would have been a few fires, a few lanterns lit, but for the most part, darkness would have ruled…now the night seemed polluted by these gaudy lights. He was hungry, perhaps that was all that made him so out of sorts. Regardless, he turned away from the window, and searched his desk for the button that swept the heavy drapes across the glass to hide the panoramic view. He was watching the drapes close, listening to the harsh scrape of the fabric, the hum of the mechanism, and didn’t hear her come in.
Lucky stood, just inside the door, watching. She rarely had a chance to observe him, without Josef knowing she was there. Perhaps he knew now, but if so, she was unable to tell. He certainly had not acknowledged her presence. And the tension in his stance spoke volumes to her. It was as though he was fighting against something, with all his strength.
Reasoning that he must know she was there, she decided to follow the impulse of her heart, and moved across the room on silent feet, slipping her arms around his waist. She laid her cheek against the smooth, powerful muscles of his back, the crisp, fine cotton of his shirt the only physical barrier between them. She could feel a trembling deep within her that was neither fear nor desire.
Josef started at her first touch, then bowed his head, focusing on the warmth of her pressed against his back. He trusted all his girls, of course, but how far inside his guard was this one, that she could approach without his traitorous senses alerting him? He covered her right hand with his left, listening to the beat of her heart. It sounded loud as thunder to him now, her soft breath like rushing wind over the steady thrum of blood flowing in her veins. The scent was indescribable, complex, delicious. As much as he pretended sometimes that it was all simple, that humans were just unusually vocal food, time and again he found himself forgetting to differentiate between the life beating within them, and what he had always held as that superior force that animated him through the ages. Time and again some human had made him—want. Not sex, not even blood, but connection.
Sometimes he felt—Josef snorted and stopped himself before he could go off on some absurd flight of fancy. He was getting foolish in his old age. He twisted in Lucky’s loose embrace, and heard her sigh contentedly as she settled against his chest, one hand slipping underneath the "X" where his suspenders crossed on his back.
“Hey, doll,” he said softly. “Did I wake you? You sounded sleepy.”
“Well, it is something after 2:30, Josef.” A gentle humor pervaded her tone, Josef thought, There was no sting there, no bite. She laid a hand flat on his chest, and he could feel each fingertip individually, He’d be lying if he claimed not to like this comfortable, intimate contact, and he’d feared they might have lost it as a result of his actions. As if reading his thoughts, she continued. “But it’s always good to get a call from you.”
“I wasn’t sure you’d still think that.” He heard her heart jump suddenly, knew she was remembering, and cursed to himself for reminding her. He needed to get past this, they both needed to get past this. If he would just feed from her, it would put their connection back to where it should be. Freshie, vampire. Freshie, vampire. Right. He took her wrist carefully in his hand, lifted it toward his mouth. One deep whiff of her scent, and he would be ready to bite.
As he breathed in, his other hand, caressing circles on her back, slid lower, and his fingertips brushed a tiny break in the smooth fall of the satin. That chain. That damned ruby chain around her hips. At the same time, taking her scent threw him back to the night he’d crossed all boundaries with her.
He had not called her in intending to repeat that. That mistake. No, not a mistake. That indiscretion. That was closer. He wouldn’t denigrate what had happened with labels like that. He couldn’t even say it was merely sex. But he didn’t want to call it making love, either. He supposed it defied definition. It was just Lucky. Giving everything he wanted, and more than he deserved.
And as much as he wanted it to be just Lucky again, now, he didn’t think that was the path of wisdom. But he found that his much-prized control was so shaky, he didn’t trust himself to feed on her without going further. He wanted to taste her blood, yes, but he also wanted to taste her mouth again, to feel her body warm under his. As much as he prized her, he could not use her heart that way. Not and maintain any illusion to himself that he was not a monster.
Dammit. He kissed the wrist he held, lightly, and released her. She looked up at him, the question plain in her eyes. “Lucky…this isn’t a good idea. Not right now.”
She frowned. “You called me, Josef. Don’t you need to feed?”
He bit his lip and looked away. “Yes, but—it’s just not a good idea.”
Lucky rolled her eyes, and Josef could sense a fire building in her of frustration. “Josef,” she said, and he tried to remember the last time he’d heard her tone so sharp, “don’t let false ideas stand in the way of—of what you feel. Of what you want.” She turned. “I am here for you, Josef. However you need. But it’s up to you.”
He caught her before she reached the door, and set his fangs into her throat without ceremony. The vampire drank, quickly, and growled in her ear, “Don’t walk away from me, freshie.”
Lucky bowed her head to hide the tears. “Yes, Josef.” Then she looked into his face. “Josef, you really need to get over yourself,” she said. And while her blood was still on his lips, she slipped out the door, and left him standing alone.
Halfway between wisdom and desire ... there's just...
awkward
Josef ran a finger around the inside of his collar, and stared at his phone. He knew what he needed to do, knew what he had to do, but he was hesitating, and it annoyed him. He rose and walked toward the windows of his study, wondering what the damn problem was. All he had to do was hit one button, and say, “Lucky, please come to me.” He’d done it dozens of times, with her. What had happened between them shouldn’t have any bearing on it. She was there to give him blood…she’d always said so. So why hesitate? Why not just call, and let things get back to normal?
Maybe because it would be a lie.
A stiff scotch didn’t help. It tasted flat, without any blood, and the burn was just a burn. It dulled no edges of thought, soothed no images from his brain. Dammit, what was he going to do? Keep avoiding it? Avoiding her? He was a vampire, she was his freshie. That was the relationship. If she thought it was otherwise, she was mistaken. Okay, she hadn’t said a thing, hadn’t given him any looks that were out of line, since. He’d made a point of choosing other freshies, doing it right in front of her. After all, she had to know. He felt cruel and strange, and that was just not normal for him. After all, he had freshie management down to a science, didn’t he?
This was stupid.
He stabbed a finger at the phone, listened to it ring, frowning.
“Josef.” Lucky’s voice was sleepy, and there was no tension in her voice that he could hear.
“Lucky. Please…come to me?” That hadn’t come out as he’d planned. Less of an order, more of a request.
“Of course.” Her answer was exactly as it had always been. “I’ll be there at once.”
He stared out the floor to ceiling windows, to the lights below that always fascinated him. When he’d been young—centuries ago, it seemed like millennia, right now—nights had been dark. At this hour, in what passed for a great city in those days, there would have been a few fires, a few lanterns lit, but for the most part, darkness would have ruled…now the night seemed polluted by these gaudy lights. He was hungry, perhaps that was all that made him so out of sorts. Regardless, he turned away from the window, and searched his desk for the button that swept the heavy drapes across the glass to hide the panoramic view. He was watching the drapes close, listening to the harsh scrape of the fabric, the hum of the mechanism, and didn’t hear her come in.
Lucky stood, just inside the door, watching. She rarely had a chance to observe him, without Josef knowing she was there. Perhaps he knew now, but if so, she was unable to tell. He certainly had not acknowledged her presence. And the tension in his stance spoke volumes to her. It was as though he was fighting against something, with all his strength.
Reasoning that he must know she was there, she decided to follow the impulse of her heart, and moved across the room on silent feet, slipping her arms around his waist. She laid her cheek against the smooth, powerful muscles of his back, the crisp, fine cotton of his shirt the only physical barrier between them. She could feel a trembling deep within her that was neither fear nor desire.
Josef started at her first touch, then bowed his head, focusing on the warmth of her pressed against his back. He trusted all his girls, of course, but how far inside his guard was this one, that she could approach without his traitorous senses alerting him? He covered her right hand with his left, listening to the beat of her heart. It sounded loud as thunder to him now, her soft breath like rushing wind over the steady thrum of blood flowing in her veins. The scent was indescribable, complex, delicious. As much as he pretended sometimes that it was all simple, that humans were just unusually vocal food, time and again he found himself forgetting to differentiate between the life beating within them, and what he had always held as that superior force that animated him through the ages. Time and again some human had made him—want. Not sex, not even blood, but connection.
Sometimes he felt—Josef snorted and stopped himself before he could go off on some absurd flight of fancy. He was getting foolish in his old age. He twisted in Lucky’s loose embrace, and heard her sigh contentedly as she settled against his chest, one hand slipping underneath the "X" where his suspenders crossed on his back.
“Hey, doll,” he said softly. “Did I wake you? You sounded sleepy.”
“Well, it is something after 2:30, Josef.” A gentle humor pervaded her tone, Josef thought, There was no sting there, no bite. She laid a hand flat on his chest, and he could feel each fingertip individually, He’d be lying if he claimed not to like this comfortable, intimate contact, and he’d feared they might have lost it as a result of his actions. As if reading his thoughts, she continued. “But it’s always good to get a call from you.”
“I wasn’t sure you’d still think that.” He heard her heart jump suddenly, knew she was remembering, and cursed to himself for reminding her. He needed to get past this, they both needed to get past this. If he would just feed from her, it would put their connection back to where it should be. Freshie, vampire. Freshie, vampire. Right. He took her wrist carefully in his hand, lifted it toward his mouth. One deep whiff of her scent, and he would be ready to bite.
As he breathed in, his other hand, caressing circles on her back, slid lower, and his fingertips brushed a tiny break in the smooth fall of the satin. That chain. That damned ruby chain around her hips. At the same time, taking her scent threw him back to the night he’d crossed all boundaries with her.
He had not called her in intending to repeat that. That mistake. No, not a mistake. That indiscretion. That was closer. He wouldn’t denigrate what had happened with labels like that. He couldn’t even say it was merely sex. But he didn’t want to call it making love, either. He supposed it defied definition. It was just Lucky. Giving everything he wanted, and more than he deserved.
And as much as he wanted it to be just Lucky again, now, he didn’t think that was the path of wisdom. But he found that his much-prized control was so shaky, he didn’t trust himself to feed on her without going further. He wanted to taste her blood, yes, but he also wanted to taste her mouth again, to feel her body warm under his. As much as he prized her, he could not use her heart that way. Not and maintain any illusion to himself that he was not a monster.
Dammit. He kissed the wrist he held, lightly, and released her. She looked up at him, the question plain in her eyes. “Lucky…this isn’t a good idea. Not right now.”
She frowned. “You called me, Josef. Don’t you need to feed?”
He bit his lip and looked away. “Yes, but—it’s just not a good idea.”
Lucky rolled her eyes, and Josef could sense a fire building in her of frustration. “Josef,” she said, and he tried to remember the last time he’d heard her tone so sharp, “don’t let false ideas stand in the way of—of what you feel. Of what you want.” She turned. “I am here for you, Josef. However you need. But it’s up to you.”
He caught her before she reached the door, and set his fangs into her throat without ceremony. The vampire drank, quickly, and growled in her ear, “Don’t walk away from me, freshie.”
Lucky bowed her head to hide the tears. “Yes, Josef.” Then she looked into his face. “Josef, you really need to get over yourself,” she said. And while her blood was still on his lips, she slipped out the door, and left him standing alone.
Funny, how that thought hits so deeply......they are just fiction, for goodness sake! Well, that just goes to show how "real" Lucky has become to us all. 
Love this story... 
Things have taken a turn...
Definately will be back for more. Perhaps if he just admitted he has lost some control. Wait...it's Josef I was talking about. 
