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Crimson Creed, Masters new pet (Tsuya&m e i Syndrome)

T

Tsuya

Planetoid
Joined
Jan 20, 2009
((hope this is an ok start XD))

Music blared from the club as its lights flashed into the dark night sky. Outside a line of people trailed along the building, talking excitedly among themselves even as rain began to pour down. The club was a rather large and popular one, having several different bars and private rooms encase one found they wanted a little more one on one with someone, among other forms of entertainment. However, it was also home to the cities most powerful gang.
Not long after the rain began, a tall man appeared. Clad in an open black shirt and tight jeans, he seemed to be unbothered by the rain as it plastered his choppy dark hair against his face. Walking carelessly past the people waiting in line he headed straight to the door. As the bouncers at the door moved to stop him, he let his jade gaze slip slowly over there much larger forms. The simple look from him caused the men to go ash white and quickly step aside. Letting out a small huff of amusement he lazily pushed a hand back through his hair, pushing it from his eyes as he slipped into the club, leaving the men to eye each other in shock.
Inside the air was thick with movement and the scent of all the people. Taking in a deep breath he walked to the railing that looked over the dance floor, a grin still painting his lip “…It has been far too long…”
 
      • Yakov sighed, and stretched his arms. He was tired of showing people to the personal and private rooms - granted, he knew he was a lackey - but to do this? He didn't want to listen to people listing off their personal preferences, and asking him to get them different toys. Some life this was! Some gang - ah well, it did bring in good money, and he usually got tipped well too, depending on if he felt like wearing leather that day, or not. The women liked it - and so did some men. It didn't bother him at all - which was strange, because frankly, he was quite the prude.

        With another deep sigh, the blonde looked around, just in case some other couple (or group of people) were trying to catch his attention for another private room - and oh, instead, he saw the boss. He'd seem him only briefly a few times - and never this close before. It was weird - he expected someone more. . .well, threatening looking. He just seemed pale, and quiet. Ah, well. Maybe Yakov shouldn't judge by looks alone. And oh, great - more people were making their way towards the second floor, no doubt wanting a private room. Shit.[/list:u][/list:u][/list:u]
 
Adrian Kain, known as Boss to everyone else, had made it a custom to personally look over the profiles of any new member, a task most found extremely odd for how fast the gang seemed to be growing. After scanning over most of the of the club, he let his bright eyes drift in the direction of the face which had drawn him from his cove, and captured his attention for the past two weeks since his picture had appeared on his desk. Leaning against the railing a moment, he let his gaze slowly run over the young blonde his curiosity no longer being able to be held at bay.
Straightening his soaked shirt about his slim but well built form, he began his track around the room to the stairs.
 
      • It wasn't really helping Yakov that since it was raining out, more and more people were making their way into the club, and some people now simply wanted a private room for their own personal space. After the young Russian led the next giggling couple into their private room, Lily, another member, had tapped the blonde on the shoulder. "Hey, the boss is making a beeline straight for you," she whispered into her ear. Yakov gave a small blush - he could feel Lily's breasts pressing against his back, and he pulled away from her.

        "Why would he want to see me?" He asked. Lily gave a small shrug, brushing a few stray strands of hair out of her eyes. "You're asking me? Better make yourself look busy though, boy - he's tough on the newbies." And then she was walking away, flipping her dark hair and winking at a few guys as they gawked at her.

        ". . .Well, that was helpful."

        So great, now he had to deal with the approaching Adrian by himself. Great.[/list:u][/list:u][/list:u]
 
As he approached his eyes flicked briefly to another, older member of the group. Catching the man by the arm he let his gaze drift back to Yakov “Even… would you be so kind as to take over for Yakov?” it was more of an order then it was a question and Even obviously knew that as his eyes flicked back to the younger member.
Proceeding past Even closed the distance quickly between Yakov and himself, his eyes giving the younger a quick over. Resisting the urge to grin as he felt a sudden urge of excitement he forced his gaze elsewhere in some hopes he wouldn’t come off to strongly. Not that he should care. “Good evening…. Would you mind coming with me…” he greeted before pushing past him. Leading him back around the stairs, he pushed open a hidden door before pausing to hold it open for him.
 
      • Blinking in surprise, Yakov was a little surprised when Even told him that he was to replace his current spot. Holy crap, you mean I get the night off early? Really? Oh, wait. . .No. Apparently not. And, ah. Adrian was looking him over. Was he not wearing decent enough clothes? Let's see. . .tight leather pants that clung to his crotch and perky butt, tight shirt that showed off his arms and chest and stomach. . .Black leather choker. Nope - everything seemed fine. And oh - right, that sounded like a request, but Yakov totally knew that it was an order. "Alright," he said hesitantly, and then followed Adrian.

        Jeez, back around the stairs and hey - since when had there been a door there? The blonde gave a small frown, but saw that Adrian was holding it open, he gave a small shrug and walked in, and was met with an unnatural darkness. "Hey," he protested lightly. "What's the point of this. . .?" He asked, full lips pouting. [/list:u][/list:u][/list:u]
 
Once again he found his eyes trailing over the other male, a slight grin tugging his lips as Yakov slipped past him. Oh he was defiantly going to have a hard time playing nice, especially with the attire Yakov had on. Letting the door slide shut, the sounds from the club seemed to disappear, save the small thud the music.
Unbothered by the lighting, or lack there of, he slipped behind the other, letting his hand reach out to press lightly against the small of his back before quickly pulling away as a shiver ran up his arm “….this way please.” He continued slightly distracted as he tried calming himself, not bothering to answer his questions as he proceeded to lead him down a long hallway “this way..” he called before making to turn around a corner.
 
      • The blonde twitched slightly when all of a sudden, all sound was gone, save for the subsonic thudding of the bass from the music - he could still feel it through the floors, and it was a strangely reassuring feeling. Yakov flinched slightly when he felt the hand against his back - God, his hand was cold - and relaxed when it was removed again. Okay, so following. . .through the dark.

        Right.

        Sighing, Yakov followed the best he could down the dark corridor, but couldn't tell that there was a corner, and ran face first into the wall. "Fuck!" He swore loudly, his hand groping in the dark for the corridor, before grabbing onto the Boss's hand. He paused, and upon realizing that holy hell, he was touching the other man, immediately let go and followed the best he could into another room, this time with actual lighting, so that the blonde could see. It was considerably bright after the darkness of the hallway.[/list:u][/list:u][/list:u]
 
Wincing slightly as he heard the other smack into the wall, he turned to make sure he was alright, only to find him just a step away. As Yakov’s hand found its way to his, Adrian’s body tensed, his eyes staring directly down at the other. The sudden urge to make the other his own was almost overwhelming. However as the contact broke, he stepped instinctively to the side as Yakov pressed forward into the room, his eyes following after him as he struggled with his animalistic instincts.
The room was warm with color, and large. As though walking into an apartment, it held everything one might want to live cozily. Decorated with an elegant bar along one wall, and large TV along the other wall the room was primed for entertainment. To the right a few steps led down to a large hot tub surrounded by stone walls which water trickled down. Off to the left, a hallway led back to a fancy kitchen and the only bedroom, in which held the only bathroom.
Letting out a heavy breath, Adrian pushed a hand though his still wet hair and followed Yakov into the room. Kicking his shoes off to the side and ridding himself of his socks he ventured over to the bar “what would you like to drink?” he questioned without looking at him, his body still seeming tense.
 
      • Okay - the blonde was impressed. How the hell had the Boss manage to hide something as big, and cool, as this from everyone else? . . .Well, okay. He was the one in charge of this whole thing - and everyone pretty much knew that the man was pretty damn secretive. He gave a small nod of approval as he glanced around the room - nice, very nice. Even a hot tub! Oh, man, he'd like to soak in that right now - work out all of the knots in his neck and shoulders from having to deal with Lily and groping men and women at the club.

        Turning around when he heard Adrian's voice, he gave a small shrug. "Vodka?" He asked, hopefully. Being Russian, he had a certain fondness for vodka. Damn good alcohol, that was. Strong too, to keep him warm at night back when he was in St. Petersburg. But the blonde frowned when he noticed that the other man was tense - hm. . .okay. So something was up here, and he, frankly, had no idea what it was.

        Like, there was the whole question of - why the hell was he even here? Was this something Adrian did to every newbie to the gang, or was he somehow special, like a pretty snowflake? Okay, self-deprecating humor there. But really - why? "This is really nice," he murmured. "What's it for, though?" He asked. Did Adrian live here, pretty much right next door to the club in a hidden apartment? [/list:u][/list:u][/list:u]
 
Nodding the slightly taller man went about pouring his guest a cup of vodka before pouring himself some sort of crimson liquid. Taking a sip from his drink, he let out a heavy sigh and turned back to Yakov “What’s this place for? It’s simply one of my get aways, my own little vacation spot if you will.” he shrugged, a soft smile playing along his lips as his gaze briefly flicked up. Handing the drink off to him, he crossed over to the large sofa, setting his cup down on the glass coffee table in front of it. “I hope you don’t mind if I get a little more comfortable” as he spoke he proceeded to undo the few buttons on his shirt. Leaving his sculpted torso with just two cross necklaces dangling from his neck and what seemed to be a medical wrap about his upper arm, he slipped from his wet shirt “don’t need to catch something ya know..” tossing the shirt beside his drink he let himself slump back onto the couch.
Picking his drink back up he waved it towards him as though to make a point “feel free to make yourself comfortable too” he stated before drawing the cup back to his lips from another sip.
 
      • The Russian gladly took the vodka, and downed half the glass in one gulp. Russian drinking genes - gotta love 'em. He could down twenty ounces of vodka without getting spectacularly drunk, and passing out on the floor. Great, right? "I. . .see." So what? With all the money their legal (and illegal) businesses made, he simply couldn't spirit himself off to the Bahamas, or Hawaii, or. . .somewhere else? Or did he just prefer being close by the business to make sure that no one was stupid enough to do something? The latter made more sense and . . .

        What the hell was he doing.

        He was stripping. Well, taking his shirt off anyway. Dear God - he was hot. No wonder Lily talked so much about him being one sexy boss. Yakov could certainly see why - and no, he wasn't. . .gay. Not really. He didn't identify as gay just. . well. He wasn't straight, wasn't gay, wasn't asexual. He had no fucking idea, and the blonde tried not to let that get to his head. The blonde swallowed when the wet shirt was tossed onto the coffee table, and tore grey eyes away from his naked torso. Ah, fuck. Damn the leather pants, because seeing that man shirtless was. . .strangely arousing?

        Right. Anyway. Yakov gave a small nod, and made his way towards the couch as well, sitting down. While he was supposed to be comfortable, he didn't particularly feel that way. For one - he was fighting down an erection, and for another, he had a hot shirtless guy next to him, who was also the leader of the gang he was in, and thirdly. . .It was just awkward. "So. . .Why am I here?" He asked finally.[/list:u][/list:u][/list:u]
 
Sensing the sudden rise in tension, he found his gaze drifting back up the younger male just as he quickly looked away. A slow grin curved along his lips as he allowed his own eyes to trail over the mans form once again. God why did he have to have them wear such tight outfits. He had so hoped to just talk with the man that evening.
Turning his attention back to his cup as the other crossed the room to sit beside him on the couch. “Do I require a reason to have a drink with a new member?” he questioned as he nonchalantly shifted his cup so the liquid began to circle around, his eyes flicking inquisitively in Yakof’s direction.
 
      • Talk? Right. You invite a hot blonde guy wearing fucking leather pants into your getaway just to. . .talk? There was something wrong with him - seriously. A light blush covered Yakov's face when he realized that Adrian was looking him up and down - again. It felt highly invasive when he did that, and he had no idea why. It just did, and oh, this was starting to become painful.

        "Mm. . .Do you do this with everyone, or am I just special?" He asked, before eying the drink in Adrian's hand as he began to swill it around in his glass. "What kind of drink is that?" He asked absentmindedly. "A Bloody Mary?" That's what it looked like - it was the only red-colored drink he knew of. No, pomegranate margarita's didn't count. Those were more purple-red. And, ah - he was watching him again, and Yakov shifted uncomfortably where he sat. The leather wasn't helping, either. [/list:u][/list:u][/list:u]
 
His eyes seemed to glow with sudden amusement, mixed with something deeper as his smirk returned. Hell there was no way he would be able to resist the sexy blonde, especially as his eyes took note of the bulge pressing against the tight leather pants. Letting out a slow breath he turned his attention back to his drink, staring at it thoughtfully before letting his arm closest to Yakov drape over the back of the couch and downing the rest of it.
Setting the cup on the table he shifted in the seat so he was facing the other, his gaze intent as he leaned in “And just what if I said you were special?” he whispered softly, his jade eyes flicking to greet Yakov’s straight on.
 
      • The blonde was going to hit himself if his superior noticed that he was having a hard-on. Aah! He had that smirk again, and Yakov himself looked away. But he had to look at him again when the older man leaned in, eyes intent and boring into his, and Yakov was blushing like a silly school-girl again. You know, if a schoolgirl dressed in tight leather and had a sizeable bulge in their pants. But whatever - small details, small details. And really, Yakov had a bit of a snarky reply for that - honestly, he was nothing that special in terms of the rest of the gang. He had no previous criminal record, no particular talents or anything.

        "Ah, well. . .I'd think you were crazy," he said, slightly embarrassed that he had actually called the Boss crazy. God, if he wasn't going to get shot after that, he'd thank all of his lucky stars. "But why am I special? What makes me different from the rest of them?" He asked, a small frown on his lips.[/list:u][/list:u][/list:u]
 
“crazy?....heh” he muttered to himself, perking an eyebrow at the younger man curiously. Narrowing his eyes he seemed to think about it a moment, his gaze slipping off to the side. He had a good question, Adrian himself wasn’t fully sure what about the young blonde drew him in… well other then the obvious things. The thought had his eyes drifting back over him, slowly taking in Yakov’s form. Maybe the leather wasn’t such a bad thing after all, besides, he doubted he would be able to play nice if the boy was dressed any differently.
“That… is a good question” he grinned as he let his hand venture out to lightly brush some hair from the others face, his finger tips gently caressing down his cheek. “Would you complain if I didn’t have a reason?”
 
The blonde gave a small shiver when he felt fingers brush his hair away from his face, and then felt fingertips run down his cheek. He didn't like such physical contact - it was strange, and somewhat foreign to him, even after being groped as he was back in the club. But this touch was soft, and it almost felt nice - but of course it felt nice when compared to something like the groping back outside. . .

"I would think it strange, certainly," Yakov admitted, and found himself gently pressing back against the fingertips, wanting the slight touch to continue. Hadn't been expecting that he would actually like the touch - but it was soft, and almost sweet, unlike how he expected the boss to be.
 
Adrian found his expression softening slightly as Yakov leaned into his touch. His eyes curiously ran over the blonde thoughtfully before trailing to the curve of his exposed neck. Unconsciously running his tongue over his lips he let his gaze travel back up to meet his before pulling away “indeed..” he muttered as he got up, picking up his glass “would you like more vodka?”
As hard as he was finding it to resist, an act he rarely did. If he wanted it, he would have it. Yet for some reason Adrian wanted to play this right, wanted to make sure Yakov didn’t end up hating him. He just hoped he could manage such a thing.
 
      • The blonde didn't notice the curious look in the other man's eyes when he leaned against the touch, but he did start slightly when the fingers trailed down to his neck, felt it linger near his pulse. This touch, for whatever reason, seemed slightly more predatory, and he relaxed when the fingers left his neck, even though he didn't quite realize it on the conscious level. That was simply the way things worked when in the presence of vampire - someone who could easily kill him.

        "Please," he said - vodka was always good. It took the top layer off of feelings and sensations, left him numb to most other things that would normally burn and prod painfully at him. Although, really, any alcohol did that - but he simply preferred vodka. Reminded of him, it did. And while home was good, it wasn't like America. America, where everything was optimism, and living life to the fullest. In Russia - it was simply surviving, and keeping everything together.[/list:u][/list:u][/list:u]
 
Nodding he crossed back over to the bar, making sure to grab Yakov’s glass. However as he turned, a large cross shaped scar came into view, dragging itself along his left side. A constant reminder of a time when he was someone different, when he was someone weak, a time he would never go back to. None the less his back was well sculpted and toned.
He made sure to take his time, attempting to calm himself slightly as his blood seemed to burn with the growing need to have a taste of his new fascination. Letting his jade eyes fall shut a moment, he gave a soft sigh before opening them and looking towards the bottle of his own drink. Picking up the bottle he sloshed its contents around, he was getting low again. God he hoped this would be enough to keep him, in check.
“so… what do you think of the gang so far?” he questioned, hoping that the small talk would help to ease the atmosphere. “Did you have any questions?” he continued before bringing the bottle to his lips and drinking straight from it. Pouring his companion some more vodka, he turned back to join him. Handing him the glass before pushing a hand through his dark hair and flopping back onto the couch beside him, though making sure to keep some distance. He didn’t need more temptation then there already was.
 
      • He saw the scar - examined, tried to figure out what could have made it such a shape. He came up with nothing, and sighed, settled back against the comfortable couch and closed his eyes, ran his hands across his face. There was the primal side of him that was screaming at him to run, but the human, civilized side of him hushes the instinct, tells it that there is no danger here. But thousands, millions of years of primal nature cannot simply be hushed by only hundreds of years of civilization.

        Yakov tilted his head back at the question, and thought about it. There was a silence - not awkward, but not comfortable. "It's different. More of what I'm used to, like back home in Moskva. Not so much living in comfort - it can happen - but more so trying to survive on a daily basis, trying to make sure that. . ." The blonde stopped himself from rambling, and gives a small shrug. "A hard transition, when you're used to life being hard to settling into something easy." He accepted the vodka, and exhaled, examining the clear liquid.

        One half of him wants to drink it - wants the numbness to go even deeper and further, but the other side says that he shouldn't drink. It is bad for him, after all, and it would be a bad impression on Adrian. But he ignored the reason and sense, and drank the vodka anyway. It would take more than that for him to get drunk, anyway. "No questions." Maybe he should just ask for the bottle. He shifted uncomfortably on the couch for a few seconds. "Where did you get that scar?"[/list:u][/list:u][/list:u]
 
Leaning back against the couch, he stared up at the ceiling, simply listening to him as he spoke, “makes sense.. This gang still has a long way to go… I plan on branching out a bit more, perhaps sparking a challenge with one of the neighboring gangs” he shrugged, not sure why he needed to know this, but figured it couldn’t hurt anything. Besides, its not like the boy could get very far.
Bringing the bottle back to his lips, he was about to take another chug as the blonde asked one of the worst possible questions. Tensing he choked down the little bit of his drink, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees as he worked on composing himself again. Letting his gaze flick over to the blonde for the first time since sitting down again, he only found a slight bit of his tension lift “…..that…. is not a very good question” he muttered after a moment before sighing and pushing a hand though his hair. God he was trying to hard to be nice. “….perhaps…. I will tell you some other time…. But for now.. I suggest you don’t ask again.” His grip was tight around the bottle as he resisted the urge to move in closer.
 
      • Yakov isn't sure either, why he needed to know that. He had no particular part with that section of the gang - he dealt with the club, the financial aspect of it. It didn't matter, anyway. Who did he have to tell? He had no interest in the other gangs - they were far too complacent, or far too edgey for his interest. The blonde eyed the elder in interest when he paused in his drinking, and then leaned forward.

        He furrowed his forehead - that was a rather stupid way to answer it, really, since it only increased his curiosity about it. And he didn't like cop-out answers, either, but he decided to respect it, and gave a small nod. "Fine," he said. Yakov had to stop himself from moving forward, and pulling away the man from the couch so he could see the scar more clearly. He wanted to touch it - spread his fingers over the cross that marred the other man's pale skin. Yakov sighed, finished his drink, and set it down on the table.

        And he decided to do it - leaned over, and let his own fingers trace over the skin, feeling the muscles work beneath it, the flawless skin except for the scar. He traced the outline of it first, then brushed the whole of his palm across it, felt how it was slightly raised when compared to the rest. Yakov pulled back after a few brief seconds, looking sheepish. "Sorry." He didn't know what else to say.[/list:u][/list:u][/list:u]
 
Adrian could see that his answer had only managed to spike the young mans interest, but he had no intention to appease it. Turning his attention back to his bottle he frowned as he attempted to force the memories down once again. The scar had always been nothing but pain to him, mentally and physically. It was one of his only weaknesses.
His eyes suddenly went wide, as the sensation of the blondes fingers lightly trailed over the ridged edge of the scar. As light shivers danced across his skin, his eyes slowly shifted to look at Yakov as he curiously explored the damages. Adrian found himself baffled, one, how dare he, and two, why the hell did he find himself allowing this and enjoying it? God help this poor boy, he had done it now.
The blonde had pulled away just in time, and Adrian had to let out a slow breath. His eyes almost hungrily running over him before returning to his bottle to down the rest of it “Damn this isn’t going to help” he growled to himself, tossing the bottle aside in frustration. Pushing both his hands through his hair now he sat up straight, he could still feel the goose bumps over his skin “what happened to respecting peoples space?” he couldn’t help from growling as his eyes shot back over.
 
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