thenorthman | (no subject)

Entry tags:

kersen,
micheletto

(no subject)

Eric was not having a good day.

He'd noticed that there had been some money missing from the Diamond accounts; someone was stealing from him (and had been stealing from Clarke before that). Someone was going to have to answer for that, and pouring over the books to figure it out (who could he trust with this?) might have given him a headache, if vampires had been prone to them.

And obviously, this had to come up the night he was supposed to meet Kersen's oh so interesting human. Eric had closed the books and pushed them aside when they were shown into his office, and shoved all of that aside to focus on their conversation. Michael Corella worked for Cesare Borgia, and that was a connection worth cultivating.

Things had been going well when someone opened the door to his office without knocking. Jamie - one of his managers - looked surprised to find three pairs of eyes on him, and stopped in the doorway. "I was looking for..." He trailed off, but his eyes had strayed to the books on Eric's desk, before snapping back to Eric. "I'll leave you to your meeting."

"No," Eric said, strolling over to the door to invite the other vampire in with a gesture. "Come in." Jamie had worked for Clarke, too, and Eric closed the door behind him. "Kersen. Do you remember that list of staff you gave me when I took over? The ones I might be able to keep on? Jamie was on it, right?"

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"What are you risking?" Michael asked, not showing any sign of relaxing.

Ah, there was the question. Kersen hesitated. "Well, Eric will have to tell a Magister, they're sort of like the Authority's, um... judge, jury, and executioner, I suppose. But they might decide not to do anything at all, especially since the guy was stealing from Eric. I mean, the chance that they'll kill me is like... really small."

Unless, of course, they get wind of Kersen's previous reputation for killing vampires to save humans. They might decide to make an example of him.

"They might execute you," Michael summed up, a thread of anger obvious in his voice.

"Highly unlikely," Kersen said hurriedly. "They may not do much of anything at all, and if they actually wanted to punish me it's more likely they'd..." Oh god, this wasn't going to help. He wanted to just stop there and not say, or make something up, but the look on Michael's face told him that was a bad idea. "That they'd just... chain me in silver and bury me for a while... but... but also unlikely..."

Though even as he said it, fear started to take hold.

Michael was glaring at him. "I killed him."

"Yes," Kersen said. "And if you were put before a Magister you'd be executed immediately. Actually they probably wouldn't even bother, they'd just make Eric do it. So you see? That would be worse."

"No, it wouldn't be," Michael retorted through clenched teeth.

"What... whatever punishment they might make me endure, I'll come out of it, and at least you'll be alive," Kersen blurted. "You wouldn't have come out of that. Please don't be angry, Michael, I had to think so quickly and I just - I could let me pulling you into more vampire bullshit be what killed you!"

"But you'll let me killing a vampire be what might kill you," Michael retorted sharply.

"Please don't let yourself worry about that," Kersen begged. "It's so unlikely, like I said. Eric is on my side, that will help, and... please don't be angry, I couldn't let them kill you..."

"You getting tortured for years isn't the better option," Michael replied, and turned away to get himself a bloody drink, despite his better judgment.

Kersen wanted to apologize, but he just couldn't bring himself to do it, not for saving Michael's life.

He'd do it again.

"You've risked your life to save me before," he demanded. "Why is this different?"

"It was my mistake," Michael answered, his back to Kersen as he poured himself a glass of whisky. "My responsibility. You took that away from me."

Kersen stood a little straighter, and actually felt himself getting angry. "I am not going to apologize for saving the life of the man that I - " The word after that fell from his lips, able to stop himself in time.

He reached for the bottle and just took a swig straight from it.

Michael glared at him for a few seconds, then turned away and knocked back a good half of his drink. "Don't ask questions you don't want the answer to."

"You're being ridiculous," Kersen blurted, glaring at him. "But what's done is done. You can be angry at me if you want."

It took a few seconds, but from looking angry, Michael went to letting nothing show. He set his unfinished glass down and headed for the door without a word.

He was leaving? Really?

"Michael, please - " Kersen managed to choke out, and then was behind him, grabbing Michael's wrist.

Michael's reaction was instinctive; he twisted his wrist out of Kersen's grip, moving to back him up against the wall with a hand to his throat.

Kersen gasped in surprise, but made no move to fight Michael off or to get free.

Instead... he slid his arms up, against the wall, opening his body up in an inviting way. Surrender.

Michael glared at him for a few long seconds, then crushed his lips against Kersen's, claiming his mouth in an angry kiss.

The kiss tasted like whiskey and anger. Kersen hooked one leg around Michael, pulling him closer. He wanted to tell him to take what he wanted, to do whatever would make him feel better. He just didn't want him to leave.

Michael let go of Kersen's throat in the middle of that aggressive kiss, sliding his hand down his chest and letting it bunch in the fabric of his top, keeping him close, as close Kersen pressed to him.

Now that Kersen could speak... he begged, "Don't leave." He didn't want to be alone with his thoughts and his sacrifice.

Michael, characteristically, didn't want to talk. He kissed Kersen again as soon as he spoke, hoping that the message was clear enough. Whatever Kersen wanted to say, he could say through actions, rather than words.

Michael would have had trouble admitting it out loud, but it was exactly what he was doing.

He grabbed Kersen's wrists and slammed them against the wall, holding them there as he bit into that kiss. He very clearly wasn't leaving, even as he slid his mouth to bite and lick at Kersen's throat, where his hand had been so recently.