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Morgan Says: This is a part of the Choose-Your-Own-Character (CYOC) storyline. Do not read unless you've read the first post in this chain.


leaping fire


Bodies had thrummed past him, until there was nobody left around Thompson. His wife had taken their male toy and run off, a savagery glinting in her eyes that sent Thommy wild -- if he hadn't been driving for the hunt tonight, he might have followed her and bathed in her primal energies. But that would be Eric's joy tonight, and he wasn't jealous.

Because Thommy's pale eyes had fallen onto his moonlight, his chariot of flickering fire who had refused to move an inch, despite the call for a hunt.

"Not feeling hungry?" Thommy asked, his voice low as he ignored his own thundering stomach and stepped away from the gate, shutting it slowly but not bothering to lock his Stead-mates inside.

Andrew's head bobbed up, looking away from the fire and leveling off a glare that Thommy reveled inside. Andy never had cared for him too much, not after he'd left. But they'd kept in touch, and that was what had mattered.

Because Thompson did care for his toy, for his little boy present that wasn't so little but still seemed to have an almost boyish lack of control over his blood lust, no matter how deeply he insisted it wasn't there.

"Never again," Andrew countered. The fire shimmered over his face as Thommy approached, the arcing layers calling to the Stead leader as he seated himself beside Andrew on the seat.

"What happened?" He tried to phrase it as a question, caught inside the humming crackles of the fire, tuning out the joy of his Stead-mates so that he could avoid the darkness inside of him that was screaming to join them.

Dark hair spilled over Andrew's face as his head ducked, but not before Thompson caught his lip stiffening. Andy's fists had balled on the bench beside him, and, daring to reassure his Andrew, he slipped his pointer finger casually over the hand, rubbing the back of it in soothing circles.

Andrew hissed but didn't pull back, and Thompson took it as a small victory, changing his casual pose to one that was clearly more interested in what Andrew had to say. He was tilted towards him, his body open in a way that he wouldn't let others see.

"Fuck off, Thommy," Andrew snapped. The spell had broken, and Thompson wasn't sure why.

But his sun was pulling away and standing up, body stiff and rigid.

"You could have my catch," Thommy offered. He attempted to keep the confusion from his voice, and hoped that he did it valiantly. Just because Andrew as mad that he had to return didn't mean he should take it out on those who cared about him.

Thommy'd only turned Andrew into the local authorities, drawing their suspicion so that Andrew could come back to those that loved him and could shine their eyes through his masks to the core that he shimmied away from but was never long without.

"Leave me alone," Andrew repeated.

Shaking his head, Thompson watched him go, hurt balling into his fist. "I gave you a present," he growled across the yards of distance.

Andrew didn't even stop. "It's not enough."

His legs flew around the table, Thommy moving on intuition now, and coming to a halt just inches from his Andrew. "And what would be?"

Moonlight and Andy's shining face, tears trailing down Andrew's fragile skin catching Thompson's breath as he lifted a tear from Andrew's body, and catching the man as he fell, shaking and crying, against his shoulders.

"I hate you," Andrew hissed, sobs breaking with smashes of his fists against his back.

"I know," Thommy soothed. His grip was firm, but if Andrew tried to leave, he'd let him. Thompson was nothing if not fair.

"I didn't mean to kill him. Lorence-- I --" Andrew choked as his nails scraped against Thommy's back, elongated, and then he was catapulting backwards, fleeing towards the house.

Thompson let him go. He had his tears, marks and memories. And, with the growing howls in the forest, Thommy knew that he'd gotten all he could've wanted from the night.


"Honey From a Thorn" - - ((by Morgan O'Friel))
Morgan O'Friel's Homepage
"Life is ever
Since man was born,
Licking honey
From a thorn."

- Lois Ginsberg

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