Semantics. [Hector huffs, settling himself more comfortably in the cocoon of blankets.] 'Begged to be fucked by you,' then. To the detriment of my work and studies.
[He's in a fine mood, made bleary by sleepiness. Isaac has a free pass from wrong-doing for at least a few hours in Hector's reckoning. That orgasm had shaken him.]
I think much has changed, for us to be here. Did it work? Are you more relaxed?
[Hector is, though that was not the goal. Isaac isn't lying down, but at least he hasn't risen to leave yet. That must mean something.]
['Hardly', he says, disagreeing with it being a simple matter of semantics. But he doesn't put up a fight, likely too muzzy-headed and spacey for it. He idly rubs his oily fingers together, looking away from them only when Hector begins to ask questions.] Relaxed...?
[He latches onto the word, both puzzled and vaguely amused.] ...for what?
Do you think you'll sleep through the night? [Hector clarifies. He hopes so, not only out of goodwill that Isaac be free of his nightmares for a night; if this works, then theoretically, they could repeat this.]
Hmmm, don't worry about it. Morning will tell.
[That is easier than keeping up the questioning when they are both tired and content. Hector gives the fairy a silent order to snuff the candle, leaving them in darkness. If it makes it harder for Isaac to return to his room, Hector doesn't mind it.]
[Isaac regards him in the half-dark a touch too long for a casual glance, as though waiting for something, the whites of his eyes gleaming dully. He blinks, finally, and slowly turns back.]
We shall see. [He answers, emotionless, skimming his hand over the bottle with a quiet reverence as though its smooth shape is an extension of Hector's body. When the light goes out and the bedroom blackens, he has already made his choice as to whether to stay and obnoxiously monopolize the bed or leave; he eases off the mattress and takes the wine with him, a little unsteady on his feet but as determined to see his way out on his own as he came in, a wisp of firelight leading him to echo chamber his tower has become. It's quieter tonight, for once. And for just long enough for him to sink into his own furred bed, where a mercifully dreamless sleep is waiting.]
[Hector sighs as Isaac's silhouette disappears down the hallway, but it was a long shot anyways. There's only so far can be come in a day. Hector's work may never be over.
He sleeps, curling up away from the wet spot left by his peak, and wakes with the dawn. Hector washes, dresses, and pads quietly down the hallway to the kitchens to make breakfast. He's no chef, but he can manage enough to keep himself fed. Slices of bread and cured meat, a porridge sweetened with a few foraged berries from the forest, a couple of hard-boiled eggs. Hector eats, and as he has done since he came to the castle, he leaves a portion for Isaac, which the other forgemaster may or may not eat. If not for the locks on his tower door, Hector would be tempted to send it up to him via devil.
With that task done, he takes his forging work outside with him once more, though this time he doesn't put himself directly under Isaac's window. He'd never been able to forge in sunlight back in Dracula's day, and he finds he likes it. That his latest projects have been plant-based gives him even more reason to venture outside of the castle walls to find a place to forge.]
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no subject
[He's in a fine mood, made bleary by sleepiness. Isaac has a free pass from wrong-doing for at least a few hours in Hector's reckoning. That orgasm had shaken him.]
I think much has changed, for us to be here. Did it work? Are you more relaxed?
[Hector is, though that was not the goal. Isaac isn't lying down, but at least he hasn't risen to leave yet. That must mean something.]
no subject
[He latches onto the word, both puzzled and vaguely amused.] ...for what?
no subject
Hmmm, don't worry about it. Morning will tell.
[That is easier than keeping up the questioning when they are both tired and content. Hector gives the fairy a silent order to snuff the candle, leaving them in darkness. If it makes it harder for Isaac to return to his room, Hector doesn't mind it.]
no subject
We shall see. [He answers, emotionless, skimming his hand over the bottle with a quiet reverence as though its smooth shape is an extension of Hector's body. When the light goes out and the bedroom blackens, he has already made his choice as to whether to stay and obnoxiously monopolize the bed or leave; he eases off the mattress and takes the wine with him, a little unsteady on his feet but as determined to see his way out on his own as he came in, a wisp of firelight leading him to echo chamber his tower has become. It's quieter tonight, for once. And for just long enough for him to sink into his own furred bed, where a mercifully dreamless sleep is waiting.]
no subject
He sleeps, curling up away from the wet spot left by his peak, and wakes with the dawn. Hector washes, dresses, and pads quietly down the hallway to the kitchens to make breakfast. He's no chef, but he can manage enough to keep himself fed. Slices of bread and cured meat, a porridge sweetened with a few foraged berries from the forest, a couple of hard-boiled eggs. Hector eats, and as he has done since he came to the castle, he leaves a portion for Isaac, which the other forgemaster may or may not eat. If not for the locks on his tower door, Hector would be tempted to send it up to him via devil.
With that task done, he takes his forging work outside with him once more, though this time he doesn't put himself directly under Isaac's window. He'd never been able to forge in sunlight back in Dracula's day, and he finds he likes it. That his latest projects have been plant-based gives him even more reason to venture outside of the castle walls to find a place to forge.]