Who: Drew and Mike What: Serious talk about the future... and stuff. When: Present-ish Where: Their room in the Luxor Rating: TBD... You NEVER know with these two Status: Incomplete
Mike caught that plague. He almost died. He got so bad that Drew stopped working for a few WEEKS to take care of him, handing control over to Starley briefly, because she was the only person other than Mike that he trusted with that. He refused to leave his side, and when a cure was found at the Dam was found, it was as if Drew had found Jesus again for the first time in years. He had so many to thank. But the whole time, he panicked because he couldn't turn Mike into one of his own. The plague was so great that many of the city's kindred were begging to turn their slaves, a request that the Sanguine had to turn down. It could have been punishable by death if he did so... though he honestly thought about letting himself be killed if he lost Mike.
Still... now Mike was better, and now maybe Valerian would be more accepting of such a request if he were to ask. All he wanted to do for the next few days before he resumed position as Madame was be with his baby.
He leaned in the doorway, robe hanging open with black boxer-briefs underneath, watching his love sleep, listening to his breaths as his chest rose and fell. If he could cry of happiness right now he would. It didn't take long for him to slip into the bed with him and wrap his arms around Mike's muscular, dark chest and lay a kiss on his chest. He tried not to wake him, but he felt him stir anyway.
"I'm sorry Mikey..." He said, nuzzling the prickly hairs of his chin against his lover's chest. "You still need rest, I'll try not to bother you..." He smiled as he sat up and touched Mike's face, letting his thumb trace his scruffy jawline for a moment.