We are but shadows in the night Who: Red & Dominik What: Feelings When: Oct. 31 following the conclusion of the Masquerade Where: Dominik’s place Rating: High - swearing (Red, you’re awful), some nudity (not even sorry) - NSFW Status: Complete
Little Red Corvette, baby you’re much too fast
“Didn’t tell me you could dance, Red,” a touch of a smile teased over his lips, Dominik was lounging in a chair by the fire as he regarded the other man. He beckoned him over to his lap, inviting him to stay for a bit longer before he went to bed. Magda and her friends were still howling outside and he wanted to give Red something to howl about. He rose to meet him instead, getting to his feet with all that cat-like grace and closing in on him.
The only light in the room came from the fireplace, it illuminated shadows that didn’t belong to either man. The Zaharia household was a strange one and its master was no different. He wrapped him up in his arms, dipping down for a gentle kiss along his pulse. He played with the idea of being a vampire, just another means to an immortal end.
He didn’t ask anymore questions, he stripped them down slowly, leaving their costumes on the chair. It was his house. His study. His rules. He backed him up against his desk and dropped to his knees in front of his wolf. He stared up at him in such awe, such reverence. Saying I love you never got easier, but he was in love with him. He couldn’t help that jealousy as he watched him twirl about with the blonde. He’d found him and he chose to stay back because he didn’t want to interrupt his joy.
“Let me take care of you. It’s Hallows’ Eve and I need you,” he pawed at his thigh, pausing to kiss along that heated skin.
“You never asked,” he purred in reply.
The stag mask had come off, his green blazer was draped over the back of a wingback chair, both pieces forgotten. The latter part of the Masquerade warranted a change of clothes, mask. He’d discarded the burgundy coat for the deep, green velvet, and the rabbit gave way to the golden stag, antlers proud and high. The knot in his tie had loosened a touch, hanging lower than it should’ve.
That curling finger was beckoning and those short legs moved easily, with purpose, across those cold floors towards the too warm fireplace. The crackle from the wood was loud in his ears. Dominik had moved faster than he’d expected and he found himself enveloped in that presence, mouths colliding. Red lifted his arms and encircled that lithe frame as best he could with such a difference in height.
His body twisted, slithering out of whatever clothes Dominik peeled from him willingly. His own fingers danced across fabric, willing it away in that awkward shuffle - a dance if there was going to be one - and finally that connection severed. Lips at his neck had him shuddering. Red smirked, chewing at the side of his bottom lip in anticipation as his heart raced.
Skin pressed against the lip of Dominik’s desk biting enough to be annoying. His eyes fell as Dom dropped, a heavy exhale escaped him that moment as he froze. Beauty. Utter beauty like he’d never experienced before. Playing princess had been fun but this..this was what he’d craved when he’d thrown himself into the ocean.
A hand lifted. Red dug his fingers into those dark locks, tugging hard at them. “I need you too. I’ve needed you all night.” Emitting a growl, something low, primal, deep in his throat.
Dominik shivered as the noise reached his ears, his eyes were dark and trained on the wolf. He was stronger, faster, and every part of the witch wanted to dominate him, but he wouldn’t budge. He challenged him in ways that were dangerous. The threat of death when he looked that primal part of Red in the eye was what kept him coming back. He cocked his head to the side as the wolf got his fingers in his hair, he pulled at the strands until it hurt and the young man laughed softly. He licked over his lips and wrapped his fingers over his hips to inch him closer to the edge of the desk.
“You want to play rough, Wolfie?” he questioned, unbelievably turned on by such a simple gesture. He knew not to tease, but getting him worked up was half of his fun. He’d run him into the carpet until their knees were raw and their palms suffered from the rug. He’d fuck him in front of the fire, down on all fours like animals, pulling at those red strands as he emptied into him- only to lick him out and start all over.
They’d both come away bruised and bleeding at times. Satisfied. That was the important thing. Dominik always made sure to tire him out before he went to bed. He was often late for work.
Dangerous had become his middle name since that night - he hated it, loathed the thing he became but if that was what Dominik wanted then Red would be there no matter the pain he felt because of it. There was something about the werewolf that the witch was into. Red was lonely, if he had to parade around with ears and a tail for Dom he would do it. Losing the witch was not something he wanted.
The desk was cold against his skin and he welcomed the onset of chill. Anticipation of what was yet to come had his heart racing, thudding against his chest. He didn’t mind the bruises, the bleeding - he healed those small wounds like it was nothing.
“What’re you gonna do about it?” He growled, putting on the show his lover wanted. It was all about the show, Red was the peacock, feathers spread in glory.
Dominik swept up for a kiss, but stopped short. His entire demeanor had changed. Whether intentional or not, swiping auras wasn’t something he could help. The only thing he felt was an emptiness. He searched Red’s eyes for answers and when he found none, their lips met in an achingly sweet gesture.
“I’m not blind,” he tucked a strand of those red locks behind his ear, his fingertips grazing that sensitive shell. “I’ve upset you,” he didn’t understand the mechanics of apologizing to someone. This was a weakness in Magda’s eyes and a failure to the rest of the world.
In his own way, the young man was apologizing for tearing at his clothes and teasing Red. He loved Red, he let slip a few days prior. He turned to him, blinking owlishly in the partial daylight as he declared that he loved him in the very garden his aunt was desecrating with her friends. He’d heard him in the early morning, whispering words against his jaw. “You want to wash up and find our babies instead? Bet they’re cold.”
He cupped his face in one of those large, stupid hands, “don’t take this as no interest. I’m very interested and invested in your pleasure. I could spend days licking you out. You don’t have to pretend with me. I love you.”
It was as if something had fallen from a shelf, tumbled to the floor and shattered against the hardwood. The moment had left them, Red’s dark eyes searched Dominik’s bright ones, those fingers releasing their lock against dark strands of hair he’d been gripping.
“Don’t worry about it,” Red managed, offering Dominik what he could in the form of an assuring smile. He didn’t want to glorify the monster, he knew he couldn’t change things now but he didn’t want to take it out on Dominik either.
The out was taken. The desire was gone now, shattered along with that metaphorical dish. Red pulled back, slid back into his clothes and waited for Dominik to do the same.
As those large palms cupped the curve of his face Red lit up, a gesture more genuine than he’d been giving. “I know. I don’t, I mean, you know what I mean…” Those words were still freshly painted across their mouths. “I love you too.”
Dominik didn’t know what he meant, outwardly, he was that same, collected persona. The front he put on for others, but he’d stopped a long time ago for Red. His guard was up and the young witch moved away from him, not uttering another word about it. Red was upset about something.
He didn’t bother getting dressed, stopping in the window to watch Magda and the old crones dance under the moonlight. As much as he hated her, he envied that old bat. He wanted to bathe in that energy, lost in the hallucinations of the ritual oils they rubbed over their bodies. Dominik shuddered, turning away from the scene. Any interest in fucking was shut down as saggy bodies danced about in his garden.
“Don’t look outside,” he blanched, snatching up his cigarettes from his clothes and heading upstairs. He had a joint between his lips as he turned to see if Red was following.
“Would the master care for some trousers?” A haunting voice came from the shadows and Dominik turned to grin at Florin. “Mistress Magda has expressed her great distaste at the marijuana use in her home.”
“Magda is forgetting that this isn’t her home,” Dominik reminded him, irritated now. Fucking trousers. He tugged on a pair of worn joggers when he got to their room. Skelly stared at him from the window, those eyes shining in the dark.
He let Dominik pull away.
Something felt off, he didn’t want to acknowledge what it was so he refrained. Instead he shuffled along quietly after the much taller being, leaving his shoes and his jacket in a heap on the floor. Red had opted only for pants and Dominik’s shirt - which was baggy and long but he didn’t care.
When that voice came Red peered over at Florin with mild interest and when the conversation was done he slipped slowly across the threshold. The exhaustion was already doing its best to overtake him, it creased the corners of his eyes and weighed heavily on his shoulders.
Pickles was sprawled out on the rug. There was no mistaking that odd purring sound, he would’ve been able to pick it out in a noisy crowd.
Dominik cooked a finger at Pickles and both cats were quick on their feet. The joint dangled from his lips as he scooped each furless baby into his arms. Both were purring like the engine of a foreign car. Pickles less so. They both went onto the bed, one after the other and the witch turned to sweep Red up into his arms.
He could practically feel the exhaustion in his bones and Dominik held him up with what little strength he had left. He plucked the joint from his lips and exhaled a cloud of smoke into the room. It was only Halloween, merriments could wait.
The shadows threatened to overtake the corners of the room. The moon gave off the only light. “Sleep, Red,” he ran his fingers through his hair and bent to kiss him. Dom wouldn’t be in bed for hours. He had a harder time falling asleep than most- and staying asleep was the real issue.
He chose to spend hours over a desk, his only light came from the dim lamp on his desk. He drew images that came to mind, conversed with long dead relatives. But tonight? He held his lover close, sitting at the edge of the bed and rubbing sleep from his eyes, “something’s bothering you.”
Those strong arms felt good wound around him and he practically melted into that dark embrace. Anyone on the outside might’ve been curious as to the how and the why - neither of them looked the part to be sewn together the way that they were - but Red didn’t care about what anyone else thought.
The bed was soft. He wanted to just crawl into the nest of sheets that smelled like Dominik and crash. He would do that. In a minute.
“It’s just the wolf,” he replied blearily. A sigh escaped him. Leaning over he pressed a chaste but adoring kiss against the underside of Dom’s chin and then he was pulling back to wrap himself up in those giving blankets and sheets with the cats.
Dominik fixated on the wolf, but it was only one aspect of Red that he liked. Red was a mystery to him beyond loving the man. One he unwrapped layer by layer, but something was bugging him. That kiss left him with more questions than answers. He leaned over him as he burrowed into the sheets, his face grew serious.
Well, nearly. It was hard to take someone seriously when they had smoke curling out of their nose. The rest exited his parted lips. He brushed another kiss over his lips.
“Red, you wanna get married?”
Magda would be furious, but he wasn’t just thinking of Magda’s rage. Dominik had been thinking of their habits lately, the way they fell in bed together, the domestic kisses, they showered together and it became routine. That spark was still there, blown into a raging fire each time Red was in proximity. Passion, adoration.
“I’ll buy you a ring. A nice one, no silver. As many diamonds as you’d like.”
“Want?” Red replied, the inquiry coupled with an expression of confused amusement. The end of his nose wrinkled and he emitted a soft laugh, a hand moving to shove playfully at Dominik’s shoulder. “What’re you talking about, getting married?”
Dominik didn’t wanna be married to him. Dominik was still young, had a whole (short) life ahead of him and Red was no spring chicken. He was middle aged by human standards and while he looked like a baby that wouldn’t last.
That palm at Dom’s shoulder slid upward, Red curled his fingers gently against the back of the witches neck, bringing him in for another quick peck. “Don’t be a jerk, you don’t wanna marry me.”
“That’s me,” Dominik almost sang to him, his voice was cloying. Drawing him in. “The jerk who asked his lover to marry him,” he slid in next to him, not over him. He was right on the edge, toying with the sheets as he took up the space beside him. He leaned back with all that supernatural grace to let the joint smolder in an ashtray. He occupied his fingers with a slow dance up to gently turn Red’s face toward him.
He stroked over his jaw as if he were appraising art, the offer stood. Not offer. A question. Dom was in love. He wanted to spend the rest of his life (and possibly unnatural life) with Red. He took a deep breath and buried himself into his lover’s shoulder with a huff of a sigh, “is that a no?”
Pickles inched over, purring louder than the cacophony of witches outside in the garden. Skelly looked deeply disturbed by the shouts and singing, her ears cocked back into what Dominik lovingly called ‘arrow head’.
Red’s eyes widened. Dominik was serious. Marriage was a large thing, a careful thing, and he’d been through the motions of it before. He’d managed to lose it — no, it hadn’t been his fault but that didn’t make the pain of the loss any easier.
An arm draped across Dominik, palm coming to rest gently against the back of that dark hair. Closing his eyes, Red tilted his head as Dom turned to bury his face into his shoulder. The words were soft…
“No,” he breathed into the shell of his lover’s ear, “That’s a yes.” He would take the risk. Dominik was precious to him. Red knew the wolf didn’t care and he would die before ever harming his lover if he could.
“I’d be honored to be a Zaharia. But I wanna fucking party wedding. None of that traditional bullshit.”
His eyes opened, Red turned to look at Pickles.
Pickles didn’t care a lick if they were getting married or not, he wanted food. Pets behind his ears if he was lucky, but don’t scratch along his back, humans. Those large eyes stared at them in the dark and Dominik dared to ruffle up the wrinkles on his back. Pickles hissed and the witch let out a full bellied laugh, if ever a time there there was a question as to whether he was a witch or not.
Dominik buried in next to Red, but the statement had his gears turning. His hair was mussed from being under the covers for that split second, “What’s a wedding party? You want Mags to do the honors?” Oh, he could see the look already. Marrying a werewolf. No heir. She’d probably say yes just to get him to stop pestering her.
“We’ll invite all my ghoul friends,” because really, Dominik didn’t have friends. He had nosy relatives and coworkers that he loathed.
“Like you have a fucking party for a wedding. Yanno, you write a few vows and shit, exchange rings. That part lasts five minutes and the rest of the time you just have a good time.” His last wedding had been super traditional and formal, the reception had been nice. They’d been young, too young, and their parents had coordinated everything for them.
“Fuck Mags. If she wants to come I don’t care but I don’t want her anywhere near the food or the drinks.” Who knew what that salty hag would get up to? She had to be invited of course, she was part of the family he was now marrying into.
Red had plenty of friends in town; he could barter with Jules to see if he could get the house band to come play some tunes otherwise they’d be doing karaoke (not that Red was objecting), maybe Vinny’s pizza could cater, Stormflowers could provide the decor. Real casual thing.
“That or we go to the courthouse in Atlantic City to get hitched, Mags can be the witness, and then we just come back here and party all night long.”
He felt bad that his own parents wouldn’t be able to make it, the lived in California and it was hard for them to just up and leave.
As long as Red was having a good time. Dominik snorted softly, a laugh possibly. Red made him happy. It didn’t matter to him whether it was a courthouse or a party, Dominik didn’t mix well with people either way. It was a curse, or an off putting aunt.
“Whatever you’d like,” he told him, tucking in close. If Red wanted a party, Dominik would pay for a party. He could invite Mags. As much as he hated to admit, the woman was his only friend. Well, behind Red.
He often wondered what the man saw in him. “Invite your friends,” he told him, yawning into the crook of his neck. As exhausted as he was, Dominik could help the excitement that welled up in his chest. His body went tense with it. “You’re my better half, Red, don’t forget that.”