Our Secret (potassiumboron x Naomi Tuesday)

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"You're not my father, gosh," he huffed, pulling his long hair up into a bun again, sitting with that same grace as he moved to pull apart the muffin to place little bits into his mouth at a time, to simply avoid making a mess of his pale complexion and tribal clothing.

Although, while his grand poise indicated he was too busy in enjoying his treats, his eyes did take in the territorial position the other had possessed hen the men appeared to take interest in them both, humming to himself unsubtly in return. Whilst that noise of amusement was unsubtle, his looks were anything but - instead, he let the pale blue orbs glance down the vampire's body with nothing but subtleness. He would rather die than let anyone know his sexuality when it had caused him to be disowned from his tribe all those years ago.

But that didn't mean he couldn't subtly look up men from afar, and despite his hatred for vampires, and despite the fact Ambrose was basically akin to a Master to him, he did recognise his handsomeness, and he greatly admired that, often peering at him but thought nothing could come of it. Wasn't Ambrose straight and about to be placed in a marriage by his father any day soon?

"Don't get so protective of me. I may be small and dainty, but I'm a werewolf. I can beat those guys up in a second," he smiled playfully, folding a leg over the other with a small tut. "Relax, sire. You're awfully tense."​
 
Ambrose growled slightly. "I don't like them.." Ambrose's eyes shifted towards Ivan, and then back at the men outside of the shop. "I don't like them one bit." Ambrose pushed his hands through his hair flipping it over to one side to reveal his side cut that had been hidden for the sake of his father. Ambrose leaned back in his chair and took a sip of his tea continuing to stare at the men. The two men outside were outsiders of the village, and they found something that they had been wanting, but they would have to retrieve it without pissing Ambrose off. Both men neared the shop of sweets and slowly entered it, looking briefly towards Ambrose who let out a low growl, his eyes trained to them.
 
Ivan, on the other hand, couldn't care less about the men. To him, they were no threat, and as such, he was pretty good at ignoring their presences - his laid back personality usually meant ignoring people came naturally to him. It was why he pissed off so many people at the castle - he ignored them easily, whether intentionally or purposely.

No, instead of paying the men attention, which he should do if Ambrose found them a threat, his pretty eyes narrowed on the other's hair, having had no idea of its half-shaven side. "What on earth have you done, Ambrose?" He huffed. Usually, he would never say the other's name. Instead, it was 'sire' as a mark of respect for the man's higher social status, but when stern with him, he cared little for titles. "Your father will kill you if he sees... this. And what about when you marry? You are to look like a gentleman!" He squeaked, suddenly leaning close to run his hand across the shaven hair, sighing to himself at their close proximity. "You're such a rebel, Ambrose."​
 
Ambrose looked back at Ivan and smiled at him. "My father will not see it, as I have no intention on showing him." Ambrose's eyes drifted back to the men ignoring the fact that Ivan used his name, which normally Ambrose would tackle him to the ground for. The men walked over towards the table, and Ambrose set down his tea cup. Standing Ambrose turned to the men. "Can I help the two of you?" He asked with a dark tone of voice.
"Perhaps you can..." One man spoke, and looked down at Ivan briefly. "Would you be interested in taking a sum of money in exchange for your servant over here?"
Ambrose growled, "No I would not, and if the both of you don't leave us alone then I will have your heads."
"Hmm, such words for a young man who has yet to actually obey his father's words."
Ambrose shifted his stance. "Maybe you would prefer going outside to discuss this."
"That I think would be very wise."
Ambrose looked down at Ivan. "Stay here." He ordered, and then exited the shop with the men. "So what is it that you truly want?" Ambrose asked the men.
"We want the boy, he would do very well as one of our servants, if you do not take our offer then we might have to forcefully take what we want."
"Forcefully my ass, I will have the both of you flattened like a pancake on the ground if you dare go near him."
"A little too protective of you're servant are we?" The men chuckled.
"Well no shit, he is my servant, I have every right to protect him the way he protects me."
Both men just shrugged Ambrose off after that, and moved to go back into the shop to retrieve Ivan. Ambrose however quickly attacked them, smashing their heads against each other. Before anybody else in the village knew it, Ambrose had torn the men's throats out with his own fangs, leaving the heads hanging by just a few strands of flesh, and their limbs scattered around the area. Ambrose wiped his chin with his hand and looked down at the blood on his fingers. Ambrose huffed, and then turned around to face the sweet shop door.
 
While he pretended not to notice the men, Ivan was listening intently as they began to talk to Ambrose, and while his face remained casual and calm, every inch of him did ignite with fear. He may be a werewolf and capable of ripping them apart, but in that moment, he felt nothing but vulnerability, that of which he hated.

He wanted to be tough, to show that he was more than a pretty face, but frankly, there was a small part of him that just craved to be protected, rather than be the protector, and as such, he felt no desire to stand up for himself in fear he'd just crumble and end up given himself up out of fear.

But that never come to fruition. He didn't have the chance to even contemplate further what to do in hearing that the men wanted him as a servant, for Ambrose had stood up, demanded he stay and, before Ivan could even recognise it, he was starting a frenzied slaughter. The men obviously stood no chance against the renowned vampire, and as Ivan wearily stood to peer out the window, he was graced with the bloodied sight, two corpses of men now strayed about and Ambrose casually heading back tot he door.

Ivan had seen Ambrose drink blood, but it was always refined. In a wine glass and with no gore involved. He knew it must have come from a human, but he never got to see that part, and he was thankful for it. He may be a werewolf, who once fed in a pack and tore deer and wild boar apart for feeding, but that was different. He had always been in his wolf form, and it was more animalistic - it was nature, really.

But what Ambrose had done was purely monstrous. It was murder, and Ivan's blue eyes did grow wide in recognition that Ambrose, a man he considered a friend as well a his Master, was a vampire, and all vampires had this raw instinct to kill and to behave monstrously.

What did make it wore was knowing this had all been done to protect him. Finally sitting down once Ambrose trailed back in, the usually casual Ivan who rarely reacted to anything was paler than snow itself, eyes locked on the table to avoid even glancing at the handsome, inhuman man. "...I want to g-go home now, Ambrose."​
 
Ambrose stared at Ivan for a moment, and then stood up. "Let's go then." Ambrose showed no emotion as he headed for the shop door again, wiping the last of the blood from his chin and licking it off his hand. Ambrose was in no mood to be dealing with anything else, and the guards of the castle could see that as they scrambled for the doors, and yanked them open just in time. Ambrose's father was standing just inside the doors, and when he saw his son rage grew within him. "WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?!" Ambrose strode past his father, and simply turned. His father may have been king of the vampires, but Ambrose was stronger than him. "It's none of your business old man." Ambrose then continued back up to his bedroom.
 
Anxiously casting the man a glance, Ivan really didn't know what to do, or how to react. He had never seen Ambrose like this, and he certainly had never believed he would disrespect his own father like that, so trailing after the other, he nervously bit on his lip, appearing nothing more than a scared, fearful child - even if he was a strong, rather fierce werewolf.

"...Sire," he started quietly - addressing him a 'Ambrose' didn't seem like a wise choice at the moment, shutting the bedroom door after them both once in the other's bedroom. Wringing his small hands in front of him, he had to force himself to stand and seem braver than he felt at the moment. "Sire, I... hm... thank you for protecting me, I suppose. I'm not a weakling; I could have defended myself if I wasn't distracted, but... thank you."​
 
Ambrose turned abruptly. "Defended yourself? DID YOU NOT SEE THE STATE YOU WERE IN?!" Ambrose glared at Ivan, his red eyes dark and close to unforgiving. Ambrose placed his hand on his face, rubbing his eyes as he turned around. "Don't be foolish Ivan... You were in no state to protect yourself." Ambrose sat down on his bed, and sighed. "I had to do it, or else they were going to forcefully take you away. Nobody takes what is mine, and nobody takes the things that I like, or love. They learn from doing such things."
 
Like? Love?

Ivan mulled over those words, undeterred from the other's yelling or clear anger as he simply took to sitting beside him on the bed, biting on his lip as the words continued to spiral across his brain, mostly because he hadn't really heard Ambrose use them toward him. He knew the vampire didn't dislike him, but to openly hear he liked -or loved- him, it was a nice moment.

Even despite the clear possessiveness the other seemed to portray in classing Ivan as both a 'thing' that belonged to him.

Nudging his arm playfully, he managed a small smile, with his canines sharpened a tad as was typical for his kind, before simply sighing and resting a head on his shoulder, mostly out of exhaustion at having missed his nap. "Sire, I can defend myself, and maybe I couldn't back then, but don't worry so much. I'm pretty tough. Tougher than I look, anyhow."​
 
Ambrose huffed, and looked down at Ivan. "I don't care, you're too precious to not protect." Ambrose lifted Ivan's face towards his by the chin. Ambrose placed their faces only inches apart, and he stared down at Ivan. "Too precious not to care for, to lovely to let you get hurt." Ambrose closed his eyes as he pressed his lips against Ivan's and kissed him with a whole lot of passion. It wasn't Ambrose's first kiss since he knew what he was doing, but he didn't Invade Ivan's personal space any longer, and pulled away as he stood up and walked towards the fireplace rubbing the back of his head.
 
And for the werewolf, whose only kiss before this one had been when he was a member of his former tribe - and it had been an encounter with a male that had him thrown out. So to be kissed by the man he was employed by, the man he had come to known as 'sire' and a 'master'... it was a bit of a shock.

Before he could really react to it, the other was on his feet with his back to him, leaving Ivan sat on his bed with his pale skin now contrasted by blushing cheeks, their vibrancy outstandingly red and growing by the second to reach his neck. Coughing into his fist, the long-haired boy couldn't really bring himself together to so much as speak, the passion the other had displayed making him speechless - if it was a simple peck on the lips, he could react a little better, but not when the kiss was hard and meaningful. That rendered him basically useless.

Eventually, however, he managed to bring himself together enough to manage to talk, although it came out in a bashful whisper - far from his usual personality. "Ambrose... why... I mean... I'm not just a plaything, you know... you can't kiss me just 'cause you feel like it or whatever. I... I regard myself highly, and I don't want to be your servant if it means I'm kissed just for the hell of it."​
 
Ambrose turned to Ivan, smiling at him as he did. But it wasn't his usual mischevious smile, it was a sweet smile. "I wouldn't have kissed you if I wanted you to stay my servant." Ambrose walked back over to Ivan, and leaned down. "Ivan I want you more than a servant... I want you as..." Ambrose took a moment to think of the right word. "I want you as my soulmate, as my lover, until the end of times." Ambrose gently pushed Ivan down onto the bed, and climbed over top of him. Ambrose straddled Ivan with ease, and then leaned down giving him another kiss on the lips, this time with his hand on Ivan's cheek.
 
And for the blonde, the sudden confession did take him by surprise - he, after all, had no idea that the man even saw him in any other way bar being a servant, so to suddenly be pinned against the bed and kissed was a major surprise, as well as obviously being sought after as a lover and soulmate.

And while he hadn't kissed or had romantic contact in years, he did find himself sternly pulling away with a pout on his lips, blue eyes full of his usual annoyance. "Ambrose," he huffed, pushing him back a little with hand on his chest - a mistake on his part as it did entail being able to feel the other's muscles, and it didn't help him trying to keep an emotional distance. "You're a vampire; I'm a werewolf. We're opposites. You're wealthy and I'm a servant. I don't want to get involved, not if it'll end with me being thrown out. You... know my tribe abandoned me, and I don't intend to be abandoned again."​
 
Ambrose frowned down at Ivan. "Who cares if their is a species difference. Nobody said that our races couldn't mingle like that, and I know that you have yet to choose your mate. You won't be thrown out, I wouldn't allow it. Besides this is... our little secret." Ambrose took Ivan's hand from his chest, and pinned to the bed above his head. Ambrose leaned back down. "Look, Ivan, if it was my choice you wouldn't be my servant, you wouldn't have from the beginning.." Ambrose then pulled away, stood up, and headed for the bedroom door. "However... I see where you stand with this." Ambrose then exited his bedroom and walked off.
 
"Ambrose...?" He squeaked, a little disturbed by the other's sudden exit, and flustered and bashful, sat up with arms wrapping around himself at the onslaught of affection show by his own master. It was hard to take in, but he didn't quite want to refuse the other in fear that things would just get awkward around them.

But was it right to enter a secret relationship just out of fear? Not necessarily. If he was honest, he had grown to like Ambrose: he was handsome, and kind, and he was willing to kill just to protect him. But being a secret wasn't the nicest idea ever, and it did look like nothing would come out of it now Ambrose left.

Sighing heavily to himself, the boy groaned and rested back on the bed once more, pouting to himself at how awkward things were becoming. "...Great..."​
 
Ambrose leaned against the door, and then looked down the hall before standing back up and walking to the kitchen. Ambrose found himself in the kitchen eating a giant cookie right off the baking sheet. He was staring mindlessly at the kitchen sink, and asked himself what it would like to be doing something that the servants normally do. He was upset at what had just happened, and how in a way he had forced himself on Ivan. After finishing the cookie, Ambrose left to head back to the bedroom where he pushed the door open. "Ivan? I'm sorry about what happened. I-I shouldn't have done that."
 
"No, you shouldn't have," the servant responded, currently sat on the bed with legs folded, wearing one of his favourite silk kimonos and, ever cutely, was brushing out his long hair, only to pause as he eyed his master from the side, finally letting his hard exterior fade away as he motioned him in closer.

"Ambrose, I don't feel we should do that again. For one, your father would go nuts," he reminded swiftly, plaiting his hair with a tired, angelic smile, even if he was far from angelic usually - he was feisty, cold and icy, but hey, he could have his moments of sweetness... mostly when it came to children. "And two, I got kicked out of my tribe for kissing a boy-- I've never told you that, but it's true, and it just brings back bad memories, Ambrose. I don't wanna be disowned again..."​
 
Ambrose walked over to him. "You're not going to get disowned, I wouldn't let it happen." Ambrose sat down besides Ivan and folded his hands into his lap. "Ivan... As vampires we don't care who we are with really, we just care if they are our soul mate or not." Ambrose laid back, and placed his hands behind his head. "All these years I knew that I was attracted to guys, I just waited for the right one to come, and it happened to be you." Ambrose sighed. "The only reason my father is going to kill me for this is because he wants an heir from me.."
 
"And believe it or not, I can't give you heirs, Ambrose," he mumbled matter-of-factly, peering at the other seemingly content in just laying beside him on the bed like that, which didn't help for Ivan trying to just keep the distance between them, knowing that was for the best to remain friends; remain servant and master... but that immediately went to pot once he finally lost the remainder of control once plopping down beside him with a tired smile. "So you like me, huh? I thought I was just a miserable asshole."​
 
Ambrose looked over at Ivan and chuckled. "You're no miserable asshole at all." Ambrose smiled. "Yes I like you, why wouldn't I? Haven't you looked in a mirror lately?" Ambrose reached over, and wrapped his index finger with Ivan's hair. "You and your silky hair, seriously, how do you get it like that? It's like the pillows I sleep on..." Ambrose scooted closer to Ivan, pressing his forehead against Ivan's.
 
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