michael_elder (michael_elder) wrote in birchcreek, @ 2008-12-18 08:15:00 |
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Entry tags: | thread: cian o'neill, thread: michael elder |
December 13, late evening (back-dated)
WHO: Cian O'Neill, Michael Elder
WHAT: A visit
WHERE: Michael's apartment
WHEN: December 13, after nine pm
WHY: They have interests in common
RATING: NC-17
STATUS: Ongoing--continued from HERE
Önska didn't like it; his feathers, iridescent blue and green, were ruffled, and the krrt krrt krr sound he made sharp and harsh. Plus there was the fact that when they'd begun, he'd nipped Michael's ear almost hard enough to draw blood, and had whacked him more than once across the back of his head with his big, heavy wings.
He hadn't liked it when Michael had slept with Neal, either.
But like it or not, when Michael needed it, Önska gave him the power he wanted to complete the spell. It shimmered along his skin, dancing along it like foxfire, quick and bright and cold. As Michael murmured the last words of the spell, it sank deeply into him, slipping and sliding downward, and he felt it hook into his lower belly, sharp and hot for a heartbeat or two before fading. Michael let out a breath and then smiled. It was a protection spell, one he'd developed when he'd first met Neal and decided oh yes, I will have him. It was as close to foolproof as years of study and work could make it but even so, he still used mundane protection. There was no such thing as too much of that.
Önska fluttered to the top of one of his bookcases, still fluffed in annoyance. Michael sent a prayer of thanks to the Vanir, then unfolded from the floor, blowing out candles. Their scent, heavily beeswax, made the room smell vaguely of honey. By the time he'd picked up all his things and restored the living room to rights, he heard a knock at the door.
Michael opened the door, and Cian stood there, hands tucked into the pockets of his jacket. Snow dusted his hair, his shoulders, and sparkled in the light spilling from the open door. His green eyes glittered, a flash of panther-green. Power rolled off him, pricking hotly against Michael's skin, such a contrast to the frigid night air. Oh yes, I want this, Michael thought. He smiled slowly, confidently, and stepped back to allow Cian to enter.