Mischief Managed

[Val Conroy]

Val whistled in astonishment as he compared the address that he'd been given to the palatial building in front of him. Matched up all right. This was it, Ian's "humble" abode. Just the landscaping alone looked like it cost more than the sum of Val's organs. He could honestly say that this was a house that he would never have thought to pass by, much less step foot in.

Much less step foot in to sleep with the owner.

Who kept a harem.

Yeah.

That was how fucked up Val's life had become. Just the other night, he'd been pelted by a dead cat. (Okay, it fell from a window somewhere above him and he didn't know that it was strictly meant for him, but it was still creepy as FUCK!) He met a drug dealer, Mark, who wanted to do lines with him because he was "lonely." (Which Val was still a little weirded out by, but that had been some good shit!)

And now he was here to sell his body to a harem owner for some top of the line designer drugs. All-in-all, Val thought that he was coming out the winner in this deal. Ian was definitely easy on the eyes. Plus, he had personality--a definite asset as far as Val was concerned and in this case, the beggar was definitely being choosy.

He walked up the driveway, apprehensive only because the opulence was getting to him. Anybody who could afford a house like this must've been rolling in cash. Hell, he wouldn't have been surprised if Ian stuffed his mattress with hundred dollar bills! Did somebody like Val belong here? He felt like this was the start of either a dumb horror film, or a porn with a badly written script. Either way, somebody was gonna get boned--just depended on if it was metaphoric, or literal.

Still. He didn't think Ian was some kind of sadistic psycho. Just a sadist in general, if he was to be believed. Val breathed out through the nose. No going back now. He chose this place over the club because he genuinely wasn't welcomed at the clubs, so this was a product of his own misbehavior. Lifting a hand, he prodded the door buzzer twice and then stepped back to wait for a butler or one of the harem boys to open the door.

When the door opened, however, he did a dumb. And he didn't really know why he did it, but he shouted "Mustard!" in case it was Ian. It wasn't. A totally bored-looking pretty-boy stood in the doorway, with one hand on the knob, giving him a look that clearly said he was Not Amused.

"Are you Val?" he asked, in a drawl every bit as bored as his expression.

"...yeah." Val kept his head held high, not to be outdone by some harem boy. He was let in and he did everything he could not to gawk at his surroundings. Shit.

"Stay here. I'll bring Ian." Bored Pretty-Boy gave him a scornful once-over. "And don't touch anything."

Just to piss him off, Val reached out and touched one of the plants sitting on top of ornate, matching stands on either side of the door. "Touched it. What now?"

"Cute." Pretty-Boy turned on his heel and swiftly ascended the stairs, while behind him, Val made a very rude gesture.

[Ian Yi]

Idly, Ian turned the little crystal in his hand over. It looked like little more than a bauble but Ian always did take a shine to pretty things. While he'd started life in less than stellar conditions, he had made his life into beautiful pageantry, reveling in the fanfare and pretty faces that came and went. This new boy was little more than another lovely distraction from the mess he'd created in turning a certain somebody into a vampire. Sometimes, it seemed, that one could coddle too much. Ian never thought that could be said of him but he must have done a good job of it this time, if he couldn't rid himself of that leech.

His home was so large that Ian wouldn't hear when his new boy arrived but he trusted that his current boys would see to that.

Setting the crystal down, he got up from where he'd been resting on his bed and crossed the room to his roll top desk. Inside one of the drawers was the substance the new one wanted to get his hands on. Like the crystal, it looked like little more than something pretty. They called it prystal on the market because of its crystalline appearance and the way it changed colors in the light.

Somebody knocked at his bedroom door and Ian tucked it away into his coat pocket.

"Come in."

One of the boys came in, face a blank slate.

"Val is here, master."

"Escort him into the west room," Ian said as he patted the boy on the chest. "He's new and I think he's accustomed to be treated gently. I'll be there shortly."

[Val Conroy]

"The master will see you in the West room," Pretty-Boy deadpanned when he came back to Val fingering one of the plants in the corner, just to see if it was real. His brows lifted as Val pulled his hand away from the delicate foliage, accidentally taking a sprig of it away with him.

Nonplussed, Val tucked the little twig into his pocket and shrugged at the stare being leveled on him. What? That thing had a million branches, one tiny leaf and bit of twig wouldn't kill it! He followed Pretty-Boy up some stairs--yeah, it was the kind of place that had stairs onto a second landing--and into a brightly lit, beautifully furnished room.

Whoever decorated the room had impeccable taste. Val was willing to bet it was some super gay interior designer guy with limp wrists and a lisp. Still. It was nice. Not exactly cozy, though--not quite lived in the way a messy room with the sheets rumpled and some socks hiding under the bed could be. It had a sort of cold beauty to it but it wasn't a room Val would have liked to live in forever.

He sat on the bed without prompting and watched Pretty-Boy turning away. Okay. So he wasn't going to watch Val like a hawk. Well, good. Val wasn't about to steal anything, anyway! (Except the plant thing but...)

"Hey, Ian's coming right?" he asked before Pretty-Boy got too far, and received only a Look for his innocent question. "...all right then... I'll just wait here..."

[Ian Yi]

Ian smiled at his pretty boy as he passed him in the hall, despite the fact that he currently wore such a dour expression on his face. He stopped and reached out to take the back of his neck, stroking his head almost lovingly.

"Don't be so sour faced, Micah," he murmured to the witch. He'd found him out in the fog with little memory of what had happened to him. Of course, since he was pretty to look at, Ian was quick to take him in and "shelter" him. It was just that witches were unpredictable when it came to turning them. Some of them were harder to keep enthralled. "I'll play with you when he's gone. How's that sound?"

He didn't even wait for an answer before he lightly touched his nose to Micah's, an affectionate gesture he reserved mostly for the new ones that still made his cold heart pitter-patter.

Once he let go of him, he smiled and patted him on the butt before continuing down the hall. The door opened with a gentle creak and Ian looked around the room. Some liked to peek out the windows or rifle through the drawers. Val, it seemed, was content enough to just drop onto the bed. Ian smiled as he closed the door behind him with a click.

"So," he drawled. "You actually made it. I thought you were going to wuss out on me."

[Val Conroy]

Val was sitting with his legs spread on the bed, in a very unflattering (but comfortable) position. He fiddled with the sheets a little while he was there, eyed the decor with mounting distaste for the interior designer, even though he didn't know the guy on a personal level. There was something... well, creepy about the room. About Pretty-Boy. About this whole place.

He was beginning to have second-thoughts, though. What if this was a set-up? He didn't fear rape--a sore ass was nothing Val hadn't experienced before. A missing liver, though? Harder to get over. And call him crazy but Val was pretty attached to his organs, and pretty set on the idea of keeping all of them inside of him, where they rightly belonged.

Just as he was about to stand up, the door opened. Ian entered. Val lifted both brows as he gawked. Yeah well... maybe he'd stay for a little bit longer. Just--a little bit.

"What on earth gave you that idea?" he asked, regaining some composure as he smiled crookedly. Ian's picture didn't do him justice. In person he was--and Val hated to use the term but it just fit so well--almost sparkling.

[Ian Yi]

"Micah," he said, without elaborating. Micah didn't intentionally say anything but his body language was enough to read into the situation. That and the conversation he held with Val. He seemed cautious but not cautious enough. A truly cautious man wouldn't be here. This one had a strong sense of adventure and curiosity. That... or he was really jonesing for the next fix. Ian took him in, from the bright eyes to the way his hair fell and the way he held himself. No, he might like the next fix but he didn't seem to have hit junky status yet.

Ian continued to look him over as he stepped closer. He was a pretty boy. Sometimes photos flattered the subject but in person, they might prove to be less than satisfactory. In these days where photoshop was plentiful and anybody could touch themselves up or angle a camera in a pleasing way, it wasn't reliable enough to take a photo's word. But in person? He had to say... Val wasn't disappointing.

He moved the prystal in his hand to the other hand, then slowly held it up with a slight tilt of the head.

"Is this what you came here for?"

[Val Conroy]

"Who?" Val blinked. "Oh, Pretty-Boy?" Was that his name? Micah? It sounded prissy--so totally fitting for him. Val snorted a laugh, half derisive, half amused. "Well, you should never believe things you hear second-hand." Or something like that. Clearly, Val didn't wuss out and whatever Pretty-Boy Micah thought--and said to Ian--didn't matter for shit when Val was sitting on the bed.

He watched with interested eyes as Ian flashed something colorful in front of him, feeling his confidence returning by degrees. It helped that Ian didn't come romping into the room in a full gimp suit, swinging a whip. Or whatever those freaky-ass S&M guys wore and used. Val wouldn't know--he thought there was nothing wrong with one guy plowing the other, the good old fashioned way.

So that was the new drug, was it? Val leaned forward, resting his elbows on his thighs. His gaze followed the drugs as his smile widened. "Yeah," he said noncommittally. His glance flicked over Ian, taking in everything from the sheen of his hair to the shine of his shoes. Picture-perfect was about the right word for him, Val thought admiringly.

"If that's the best you got." 

[Ian Yi]

"Yes, Pretty-Boy," he said in amusement. Although he'd say that all of his harem were pretty boys. How would he let them in otherwise? Ian had to like the look of them and he edged toward pretty more so than tough or manly or body-builder types. Micah was pretty but he wasn't exactly happy about being magically chained to the place. But if Ian didn't bespell him, he would have gone running back to whatever it was he missed back home. Jinx, he remembered hearing once. Ridiculous. Was that his dog or something? The dog would survive on its own. Ian despised them anyway, so he wasn't letting it in his home.

Ian's lips twitched as he watched Val's gaze follow the drugs. They were oh-so-pretty to look at and they felt good, too. Not that Ian knew firsthand. Its effects didn't seem to work on him, sadly. But when humans took it or when his newly made vamps took it, they reveled in it. The look in their eyes was golden and soft and content. Nothing in the world could make them happier than they were in the moment they took it. And the people they were with... people like Ian, oh they benefited grandly from it.

"I should be saying that to you. Don't you owe me something?"

[Val Conroy]

"Oh right, right. Gotta see the goods before you commit."

Val's grin was purely cheeky as he stood up. Seemed like Ian wasn't going to part with the drugs until he got what he wanted—which was Val. In a way, that was extremely flattering to Val's ego, that a man who looked like he stepped out of the glossy front cover of a magazine wanted to get with him.

In many other ways, it ought to have sounded the alarm bells. What the hell would a man who looked like he stepped out of the glossy front cover of a magazine want with a guy like Val?

Youthful indiscretion being what it was, however, Val didn't listen to the voice of reason in the back of his head. Instead, he pulled off his shirt and let it fall onto the side of the mattress, where it slid carelessly onto the floor. His fingers drifted down to the zipper on his jeans; he glanced up, still grinning. Val wasn't the shy type and neither was he a prude. Maybe his body wasn't the best-looking specimen of manliness, but he was at least passably lean.

"You want the full monty, or...?"

[Ian Yi]

"Well, yes. Of course."

He didn't just hand out these drugs. They weren't easy to make or to get a hold of, thank you very much. Only a few witches in the area seemed privy to the recipe and Ian had to count on those witches to get the goods. With demand going up, the supply wasn't able to fully keep up, meaning that it went up in price. Ian thought he was being quite generous with what he had, really.

Ian smiled. Cocky young thing, wasn't he? Ian liked what he saw, but...

"Yes, I want the full monty." He snapped his fingers. "Come, come. I don't have all night, you know."

That was a lie, of course. He had all night and if he liked Val well enough, he might just spend it all with him.

[Val Conroy]

Val laughed, a genuinely amused outburst. Talk about bossy! He slipped the zipper down and pushed off his jeans, since Mr. Impatient was snapping his fingers at him. Kicking aside the pool of cloth at his feet, he stood arms akimbo. "Okay?" Val did a facetious little twirl on the spot, coming back around with another cheeky, irreverent grin.

"Good enough to bang?"

He didn't ever recall being judged this much in his life—not for some drugs. Usually the guys he hooked up with wanted some head, or just to fuck. Val felt like he was on display here, like he was merchandise that Ian was inspecting for flaws or damages. The feeling itself should have been disconcerting, or maybe even insulting, but Val wasn't easily offended. (If anything, he was usually the one doing the offending.)

[Ian Yi]

"Hm..." Ian gave it genuine thought as he appraised Val. He was a pretty boy and Ian did so love to gather more into what he shamelessly called his harem. Beautiful boys were easy enough to come by but some of them were terribly boring or they were just plain belligerent--like Micah. Ian had acquired him fairly recently, with the fortunate onset of the fog. The witch had been out in the fog and looking for a place to wait it out. He never did get to bring his ingredients home because now he was here and home was also here.

Val might not leave either. Ian was giving it some serious thought. He could use a cheeky little thing like him. He'd almost gone for Alex's boy but he didn't want his sloppy seconds. This was much more ideal.

"Good enough for more than that," he practically purred as he slid a hand over Val's chest. Ah, he was so warm. The body of a man whose heart still beat of its own accord... Ian envied him that but he drank enough blood to give himself the illusion that he, too, was a warm-blooded human man. He just didn't play into the fantasy as deeply as some of his little proteges.

Honestly, he enjoyed his life as a vampire, barring a few minor annoyances.

Without warning, Ian used the hand on Val's chest to push him into the bed so that he could follow atop him, straddling him as his hand went to Val's hip. Low, but not quite low enough. His free hand dangled the prystal over Val.

"Care to try a little now?"

[Val Conroy]

"Then I'm gonna have to see a lot more than what's in your hand," Val grinned. Hey, he knew what he was here for. And he knew that if Ian wanted more, he'd have to pony up a little more than some rainbow-looking crystals. They could be bath salts for all Val knew, though he liked to think that Ian wasn't as much of a scumbag as all that.

That voice, though--almost a literal purr. It did something to his insides, turned them to jelly for just a brief second. Val's gaze fell to Ian's hand as it slid up his chest, his fingers and palm cool. It made his skin flare with heat in response, almost as if his body wanted to make up for the lack of warmth. He was about to step in closer but suddenly the world tilted on its axis and Val found himself laying flat on the bed.

He blinked up in surprise, then arched into the hand at his hip. His own didn't take long in wandering, sliding up Ian's thighs and headed towards an obvious place. And Val didn't play games; he copped a feel, just to see what he was working with, even as Ian dangled the drugs over him like a man dangling a carrot in front of a horse.

"Yes. I want it." Val's voice was low--not a command, but sure and firm. His gaze, on the other hand, was coy and meaningful as his fingers closed around Ian; his next words were colored with a softly persuasive tone. "Give it to me, Ian..."

[Ian Yi]

"Oh?"

Did Val want him to strip down next? It was the next logical step, of course, but Ian didn't quite like giving into demands until he decided to do so. It had to be his idea, so to speak. He didn't want people like Val thinking they had any control over what he did. Tilting his head slightly, Ian watched the path that Val's hand traversed over his thigh and he smiled, waiting. Val seemed to approve, since he declared that he wanted it. And he wasn't just talking about the prystal--that much was clear. Triumphant, Ian flicked the bag open even as he moved his body against Val's hand.

"I'll give it to you," he purred again before sliding the prystal over his own tongue and leaning down to kiss Val. His tongue slipped past soft lips to deliver the drug. Only a tantalizing taste for himself; the rest would be Val's to feel. The sensations. The pleasure. After another long kiss, he bit Val's lower lip, not yet hard enough to draw blood but enough to make him really feel it. His hand slid down over Val's wrist.

"Take them off," he said, of his own clothing. If Val wanted to see it, he could unwrap it for himself.

[Val Conroy]

Control freaks--boy did Val know a lot about those. He wasn't one himself, of course. If anything, he was almost too easy-going for his own good. Not a lot of things bothered Val and if they did, he hid them away deep and covered for them by being extra flippant, extra nonchalant.

Like now. That unsettling feeling never left him; if anything, it was intensifying by degrees. Val couldn't put his finger on it but the longer he looked into Ian's eyes, the more... antsy he felt. It was like something in his unconscious mind was telling him to go--run.

But then Ian kissed him, and it was a heady mixture of drugs and the promise of pleasures to come. Val was smiling as they parted a second time, the drugs dissolving on his tongue--a pleasant taste of sweetness and something almost perfumed. He breathed in deep, letting out a soft noise at the throb of his lower lip. When he opened his eyes again, Ian was all that he could see.

"Yes sir." Still a touch flippant despite the warning sting in the tail end of Ian's kiss, Val's hands moved up to unbutton Ian's shirt. He half-rose off the bed to slide the shirt off, and let his hands do the exploring--around his shoulders, down his chest, over his stomach. "Handsome," he said without pretense, fingers dexterously undoing the fastenings of his pants. It wasn't long before they were both naked, warm skin on warm skin and Val's curious hands mapping out Ian's body.

Funnily enough, he could feel the drugs working. It was like warm honey dripping through his veins in a slow crawl. Golden contentment spread over him, from head to toe. He shivered a little, uttering a soft moan in the back of his throat as his body arched up into Ian's. Everywhere they met, his skin tingled pleasurably. Val pulled at him, eager lips slipping over his, imparting a similar, playful bite to the swell of Ian's lower lip as his hand slid low, not in the least shy to stroke and tug at him.