"I was testing my limits," Sebastian replied. "Perhaps unwisely."
Without a word, Boarstaff pushed up his sleeve and extended his bare arm. The night air raised goosebumps across his skin. Sebastian's eyes tracked the movement, focusing first on the pulse point at Boarstaff's wrist, then traveling slowly up the muscled forearm to his shoulder before returning to meet hisgaze. His pupils dilated, the metal beneath his skin shimmering. But he didn't move to take what was offered.
"The council doesn't approve of this arrangement," Sebastian observed.
"The council understands its necessity," Boarstaff replied, voice dropping lower than intended. "They just don't like being reminded of it."
Sebastian smiled at that, a genuine expression that transformed his features. "They prefer their monsters fed and docile, but don't want to see how it happens."
"The warchief does what's necessary for the village's safety," Boarstaff said. "Which currently includes ensuring you don't reach the point of uncontrolled hunger."
Sebastian nodded, acknowledging the point. With careful movements, he took Boarstaff's wrist in both hands. The hint of brass at his fingertips was warm against Boarstaff's skin, the touch gentle despite the strength Boarstaff knew they contained. The faint metallic sheen pulsed with the same subtle rhythm as the threads at his throat - a rhythm that belonged to Sebastian alone.
"I sometimes wish they understood what I see," Boarstaff said quietly as Sebastian examined his wrist, positioning it with deliberate care. "Not just the vampire they fear, but what you're becoming."
Sebastian looked up, something unreadable in his expression. His thumbs traced the veins visible beneath Boarstaff's skin, following the pathways of life with delicate pressure that sent unexpected heat through Boarstaff's arm. "They're right to fear me," he said simply. "I am still dangerous."
The admission hung between them, honest in ways their conversations rarely were. Sebastian's control was remarkable, even with hunger evident in every line of his body. He held Boarstaff's gaze as his thumbs continued their gentleexploration, mapping pathways of blood with clinical precision undercut by something far less calculated.
"You've just learned how to work with that danger." Sebastian’s voice dropped lower, resonating with undertones that vibrated through Boarstaff's bones.
The truth of the statement settled between them, undeniable. Sebastian was dangerous - perhaps more so since his father's mechanical regulations no longer constrained his nature. What had changed wasn't the danger, but Sebastian's growing ability to choose when and how to express it. Choice rather than regulation. Will rather than mechanical constraint.
"You would never actually attack an orc," Boarstaff said with certainty born of weeks spent testing boundaries between them, learning the limits of Sebastian's control, building a tentative trust neither had expected.
Sebastian's response was a knowing smirk that caught Boarstaff off guard. For a moment, the civilized veneer dropped away, revealing the vampire beneath. His eyes darkened, pupils expanding until only a thin ring of iris remained. The brass threads beneath his skin glinted in the darkness. His fangs extended fully, a reminder of what he truly was.
A reminder that choice was not the same as inability. That Sebastian's restraint was exactly that… restraint, not incapacity. The realization settled in Boarstaff's gut with uncomfortable weight, a truth he'd known but perhaps not fully accepted until that moment.
Then the moment passed, Sebastian's expression shifting back to careful neutrality as he lowered his mouth to Boarstaff's wrist. The initial bite was gentle, almost hesitant, as it always was. A deliberate care contrasting sharply with the hunger Boarstaff had glimpsed moments before.
Then came the drawing sensation as Sebastian fed with practiced control. Boarstaff's heartbeat quickened, a rush ofheat spreading through his body that had nothing to do with blood loss. The familiar warmth pooled low in his abdomen, an involuntary response to Sebastian's feeding that had become increasingly difficult to ignore with each encounter. He found himself watching Sebastian's face, the way his eyelashes cast shadows against his cheeks, the slight flush returning to his skin.
Memories of the sacred chamber beneath the Heart Tree surfaced unbidden. The night after Oakspear's death, when boundaries between them had nearly dissolved completely. When grief and raw need had almost pushed them past the line that separated duty from desire. The loss was still fresh, the wound still healing, but something else was growing in its place. Something dangerous and inevitable.
Boarstaff forced the memories away. Not now. Not yet.
When Sebastian finished, he sealed the small wounds with a pass of his tongue, the gesture lingering longer than strictly necessary. His color had improved, the slight tension in his shoulders easing.
"Thank you." He released Boarstaff's wrist, though his fingers trailed against the skin for a heartbeat longer than required.
Boarstaff nodded, pulling his sleeve back down, suddenly conscious of the cool night air against his heated skin. The eastern sky had lightened further, but true dawn was still some time away. "Return to the caves," he said, rising to his feet. "I'm going back to bed. What little remains of the night."
Sebastian remained seated, his expression thoughtful as he looked up at Boarstaff. He took a deep breath, then chuckled softly.
"Did you ever think you'd be aroused by having a vampire's mouth on you?" he asked, the teasing question cutting through the tension between them.
Boarstaff shook his head, not quite hiding his own reluctant smile. "You know better than to ask me that."
Sebastian shrugged, settling back against the tree. "Sleep well," he said, the challenge in his eyes softening to affection.
As Boarstaff walked away, he felt Sebastian's gaze following him. The council saw only threat, when they looked at Sebastian. Boarstaff saw... complexity. Possibility. Danger, yes, but danger that might be directed toward common enemies rather than against them.
Or perhaps that was simply exhaustion talking. He needed sleep before he could properly consider what that knowing smirk had meant, or why it had affected him so deeply.
Either way, the boundary had been reestablished. The council placated, for the moment. Sebastian fed and therefore safer for everyone. Small victories in an increasingly complicated situation.
It would have to be enough for what little remained of the night.
