Who: Bran and Damien…and Chessie What: drinks and talking Where: Verdant When: backdated to Mar. 4th Warnings: swearing Status: g-doc
Bran texted Damien about grabbing drinks. While Bran would never admit so out loud, he felt a little concern regarding his brother. Generally, sure, Damien carried the weight of the world on his shoulders, but the fact he’d been even more moody than usual concerned Bran. Given no blood shed occurred, the younger brother assumed Alyssa didn’t do something fucking stupid like cheat on Damien.
Of course, that didn’t mean Bran didn’t think it involved Alyssa. Very few people could cause Damien this much of a mood and Bran hadn’t gone on a murder rampage, so he knew it wasn’t anything he did.
Drinks in hand, Bran led them to an empty table. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” Clear and to the point. The brothers didn’t deal in feelings, but it didn’t mean Bran didn’t care.
Damien had agreed to go out with his brother for drinks…but he had not agreed to talk about anything that was bothering him. Damien preferred to keep his issues to himself, especially if they would have no effect on Bran. Well, outside of Damien possibly being more moody than usual as was the case at the moment. And they both knew well enough that Bran could handle it. But of course, Bran had to push because he was Bran and he didn’t know when to not open his mouth.
The elder Duval was suddenly in desperate need of a cigarette. Swallowing down the urge, he took a seat at the empty table and sipped his drink, hoping to momentarily satisfy the cravings with overpriced alcohol. So far, it wasn’t working as well as Damien hoped it would. Oh fuck.
“It doesn’t concern you,” Damien replied bluntly, looking over at Bran with hooded blue eyes. “I agreed to go for a drink with you, not for a therapy session.”
Bran shrugged, willing to let it drop. He knew full well how his brother could be and, if Damien started talking about his feelings, Bran might worry someone had taken over his brother’s body. But, it didn’t mean a small part of Bran didn’t worry about his older brother.
“Oh for fuck’s sake. Here.” Bran pulled out a smoke and passed it to his brother. “Outside or take our chances here?” Not that the vampire didn’t think they could handle anything, obviously. He could use one, but shockingly to everyone who knew the brothers, Bran smoked maybe once or twice a day as opposed to Damien. “Take the pack.” The younger Duval held pack one for himself.
A cute redheaded girl slid into the seat next to Damien and Bran really hoped she didn’t end up without a head.
“You honestly think I don’t have a fucking pack on me?” Damien asked sarcastically. However, the vampire accepted the single cigarette anyway. He wouldn’t take his brother’s pack of cigarettes unless he ended up going through his own pack. Which, right now? It felt completely possible. His blue eyes shifted to the bartender and then to security. Normally Damien was all for a little trouble, but right now, he didn’t feel like dealing with humans.
“We’ll take it outside. I don’t feel like dealing with the wolf bartender and his fucking cronies tonight.” Damien slipped the cigarette between his lips and moved to stand. But he never had the chance. Instead, a young girl with red hair claimed the empty seat beside him, boxing him in, and Damien’s blue eyes flashed. He was not in the mood for a random human girl to throw herself at him tonight.
Slipping the cigarette from his lips, Damien grabbed her chin and forced her to meet his flaming blue eyes. “I’m not in the mood and even if I was, you reek of desperation. It’s a turn off. Get lost and don’t come around here for the rest of the night.” Damien released her and the redhead, with a rather dazed expression on her face, slipped from the seat and disappeared through the crowd. Damien reached for his glass of bourbon, took a sip, and then stood.
He glanced over at Bran. “Let’s go fucking smoke before her friends decide they want to try.”
“Sure, but you weren’t fucking reaching for it,” Bran commented dryly, used to Damien’s moods. Whatever set off this one, though? Fucking hell. “So, I thought I’d expedite the whole getting nicotine into your fucking system.” At this rate, Bran didn’t know if Damien’s pack and his pack would be enough for one night.
“Works for me.” Bran watched the interaction and the girl disappear. She wouldn’t be his or his brother’s choice on a good day. The golden-eyed brother thought about Tandy for a briefest second, but pushed the blonde ballerina out of his head, especially at the moment.
The younger Duval lit his cigarette as they exited the bar before he tossed the lighter to his older brother. Inhaling the smoke, Bran enjoyed the familiar feel of nicotine in his system, not saying anything at the moment.
He opened his mouth and instead watched as Alyssa’s Chessie appeared and sat on Damien’s shoulder. “Some day that fucking thing won’t startle me.” In response, Chessie grinned.
Damien tried to avoid lighting up immediately. They just arrived at the club and he wanted to spend a little time inside before forcing himself to go out and smoke. So much for that. “Your kindness is an inspiration to us all,” Damien retorted sarcastically. Though, his brother attempting to placate his bad mood with an influx of nicotine wasn’t the worst idea.
“I thought so.” Damien didn’t think his brother would mind if he got rid of the girl. They weren’t interested in anything she had to offer. Not like she had much to offer anyway. She should be grateful. Damien let her off easily; he could have compelled her to go outside and in the dark alley, he would have killed her just because he could. Because it would have briefly tamed the monster within. The monster Damien tried so very hard not to let see the light.
Once they were outside, Damien replaced the cigarette in his mouth and caught the lighter Bran tossed to him. He ignited the end of the cigarette and then clicked the lighter shut. The elder Duval inhaled a hit of nicotine and immediately felt calmer as the drug hit his blood stream. He tossed the lighter back to Bran. From the look on Bran’s face, Damien guessed Chessie had decided to make an appearance. The netherling settled on Damien’s shoulder.
Damien never saw himself liking Chessie, but he seemed to grow on the vampire without Damien even realizing it. He exhaled a cloud of smoke and his blue eyes flashed with amusement at his brother’s surprise. “That ‘fucking thing’ has a name,” Damien corrected, glancing over at Chessie. “And Chessie startling you has been the highlight of the evening.”
They’d get through a smoke or three and then return to their table. If someone stupidly tried to take the table, well, compulsion worked wonders. “Yeah, I know, I’m a regular fucking Mother Theresa.” Bran thought he could come up with way worse ideas, and given his brother, the nicotine seemed like the least terrible idea at the moment.
Bran didn’t mind taking up a girl who threw herself at him, but not tonight and definitely not that girl. He had taste after all, same as his brother. Honestly, Bran still considered compelling her and killing her because, unlike his brother, the golden-eyed vampire saw no reason to hide the monster within. However, the whole kidnapped in a place they couldn’t leave gave Bran pause he normally didn’t care about. Although, if Damien’s foul mood persisted, Bran might suggest a murder.
Catching the lighter, Bran could tell the nicotine had the desired effect on his older brother. Thank fuck.
Chessie seemed pleased that Damien stood up for him, as his grin widened and his tail swished back and forth. “Fine. I’ll call him by his name when he starts wearing a fucking bell.” Obviously the Netherling hadn’t grown on Bran in quite the same way, but he also wasn’t fucking Chessie’s queen either. He did manage to not roll his eyes. “I always pictured the Cheshire Cat as larger than a fucking hummingbird.”
“I wouldn’t go that far.” Saints they were not and would never be. The term ‘monster’ was far more accurate. However, Bran’s idea was not the worst idea he’d ever had. Though, it was also no secret nicotine was the key to calming Damien down.
If Bran had gone after the redhead and killed her, Damien’s foul mood would have become far worse. Luckily, his brother refrained from his normal, murderous tendencies and the two could smoke in relative peace. Well, until Chessie decided to make his appearance and practically made Bran piss his pants.
As his brother proceeded to insult Chessie, Damien took a drag from his cigarette before expelling a cloud of smoke into the air. His blue eyes flickered to Chessie still situated on his shoulder. “I think he’s jealous that you don’t piss me off as much as he does,” Damien said. Then he trained his gaze back on his brother who was puffing on his own cigarette. “Or you’re just sour that you don’t get to sit on my shoulder too.”
Bran wore the term monster with the pride someone else would use for Valedictorian. Also, he preferred to act on his urges more than his brother. Back home, though society didn’t hold him to the same standard as Damien, which might explain why Damien smoked more than Bran. It was, honestly, the one thing he could do where nobody would care.
Tonight putting Damien’s mood at -1000 sounded like a really terrible idea. So Bran didn’t.
He didn’t think Chessie startled him quite to that point, but what the fuck ever. Chessie seemed delighted when Damien addressed him and honestly Bran found himself with questions. Not that he’d ask his brother, but maybe Alyssa. Who, come to think of it, hadn’t messaged him about drinks recently.
“I’m pretty sure nobody can piss you off the way I do. Not even Alyssa.” A dismissive hand gesture, at Damien’s assertion of his jealousy. “Chessie can have your shoulder. I’m sure I’ll cry, though, if he starts providing you with cigarettes.”
Chessie flitted over, booped Bran’s nose, and took the package of cigarettes from Bran’s pocket to Damien’s pocket, before settling back on Damien’s shoulder.
“Okay, Chessie, seriously, what the fuck. That wasn’t a fucking challenge.”
Unfortunately, Damien had the “Head of Duval House” title to live up to every single day of his eternal life. He had to set an example and constantly giving into his impulses could not be a part of it. While he didn’t hold that title here, he still felt the need to live up to those standards. Bran would remain the impulsive, reckless one and Damien would always be controlled even if he was just as much of a monster as his brother.
“It’s not something to be proud of,” Damien shot back. “But of course you choose to wear it like a badge of honor.” Bran’s ability to get under his skin was rivaled by no one and that came with the privilege of being Damien’s brother. Or misfortune. He was sure Bran thought it the latter most of the time.
Suddenly, Chessie shifted off his shoulder and flitted over to Bran. Damien could not help, but look briefly amused as Chessie booped Bran in the nose and then took his pack of cigarettes. The netherling shifted back to Damien’s side and deposited the cigarettes in Damine’s pocket before settling upon his shoulder once more. The vampire offered his brother a rare show of emotion in the form of a smirk.
“I guess I should be expecting tears any minute now,” Damien retorted. “You should never underestimate Chessie. He has a way of surprising you.” And he was just as stubborn as his Red Queen.
Damien could keep his title. Even while a tiny part of Bran felt guilty that Damien got stuck with all of the responsibilities. His older brother carried the weight of the world on his shoulders and Bran reaped the rewards. But nobody wanted Bran in charge, including Bran. Second felt good to him.
“Like you wouldn’t miss me if I left, including my ability to get under your skin on a regular basis.” Bran shrugged, a small smirk on his face before they resettled to expressionless. At the end of the day, Bran didn’t want any other brother, even if Damien acted like a fuccking den mother at times.
He blinked and, in the rarest show of emotion ever, Bran laughed at the sheer ridiculousness of the entire situation. Briefly and then he shrugged his shoulders, expression returning to neutrality. “I will weep into my pillow all night, my heart breaking.” He still had a bit of his smoke left at least. “Chessie, are you a klepto?” Alyssa’s companion took to washing his paw. “I’ll have to keep that in fucking mind.”
In a way, coming to Madison Valley had leveled the playing field for the Duval brothers. Mostly. Damien still found it difficult to not be the older brother. The one in charge. He didn’t know if he could ever stop being that person. If he could ever stop wishing he still held the power and prestige that came with holding the title of Head of Duval house.
“Maybe just a little. Of course, that would probably happen after I savored not having a headache for a few days with your name all over it.” Regardless if Bran wanted to admit to it or not, the two balanced each other out. Damien kept Bran from running a muck and killing every human that looked at him funny. Bran, on the other hand, kept Damien from turning into too much of a stuck up prick. The scales balanced well.
Bran’s laugh was startling. It was rare that either vampire laughed or showed any kind of emotion. At the sound, Damien actually cracked a small smile and managed a brief chuckle before his expression went blank once more. “The day you weep into your pillow like a teenage girl with a broken heart, we’ll both be ready to stake ourselves,” Damien replied. His gaze shifted to Chessie who was currently washing a paw as if the Duvals didn’t even exist.
“I think it’s more so he wanted to prove a point.”
The playing field may have leveled for the the brothers, but the likelihood of Damien giving up the role of older brother seemed as likely as Chessie wearing a fucking bell. If Damien ever stopped being that person, Bran would actually fucking worry.
“Yes, I know, I get under your skin and provide you with daily headaches.” Bran recognized exactly how much he could annoy his older brother, but he felt duty-bound as the younger brother. He did think the two balanced out each other well. Damien needed Bran to loosen the fuck up and Bran required Damien to ensure his younger brother didn’t go on a fucking murder spree.
Damien’s chuckle surprised Bran and he found the laugh made him miss emotions. Only briefly, and then his brain didn’t think about it again.
Chessie repositioned himself and stared Bran dead in the eyes. The Netherling’s grin didn’t waver and the tail swished in agreement with Damien.
“Don’t underestimate anyone from Wonderland. Got it.” Bran already knew better than to underestimate Alyssa.
“It’s what I can always count on.” If Bran actually stopped annoying him so much, Damien would be the one to worry. Thankfully(?), that didn’t seem to be an issue. Both brothers would remain true to their roles in this relationship and in their personalities. At least, so far. Damien knew this place liked to use them as pawns and potentially give them different lives. The thought bothered him more than he would ever admit to, but the fear of not being in control of his own actions certainly put him one edge.
The Netherling’s tail brushed Damien’s cheek as it swished back and forth. Chessie was looking at Bran now. The two were staring at each other and Chessie’s grin never wavered. Damien knew Bran would never underestimate anyone from Wonderland again. At least he’d learned the lesson the relatively easy way with Chessie and not like Damien.
“At least Chessie broke you in the easy way,” Damien added. “Your welcome to that notion could have been being strung up in roots.”
Bran didn’t feel a need for a role reversal, but in this place? Who knew what might happen. The fucking Dome liked to mess with people, after all.
“I think I’ll take this lesson instead of strung up by roots. Alyssa knows how to make a statement?” Bran shrugged, finishing his smoke. He found that he liked Chessie just a little more. But the damn creature still should wear a bell.
“Back to our drinks?”
“She certainly does.” Damien finished his smoke and dropped it to the ground. He stubbed on the end with his boot. It was one reason he happened to care for her so much.
“Yes, let’s get back to our drinks.” Damien turned and led the way back into Verdant. He found he actually felt a little better even if he was no closer to making the choice.