Time: Monday afternoon, Oct. 28
When Frank awakens about 4 p.m. the next afternoon, his arms are empty. He remembers that early that morning he'd invited Cash to sleep with him - just sleep - and he'd spooned up behind the shorter Gangrel, folding his arms around his body. They slept soundly; Frank until noon when he'd woken up and just lay there looking down into Cash's face, watching him sleep until his own eyes grew heavy again. The Kindred's face looked... young, too young for the responsibilities of primogen. But Frank now knew the truth of that - Cash had been Stevie Ray's eldest, the strongest of his childer and well deserving of the inheritance. Now Cash will make a childe of his own, Frank Kouhanek.
Now... Frank's arms are empty, the Gangrel gone from his bed. He feels a pang of abandonment, until he sees what is on the pillow opposite him, A rose, so dark a red that it could be called black. Its stem pierces a piece of letterhead from the Camera, an untidy scrawl across the surface of the page. Sitting up, the detective deciphers:
Wolf Dreams
Warm blood's pulse beneath my hand, my lover, brother, friend. Sleep here in my arms.
Take wing, or run deep in the forest. Then come to me, all joyful sadness and dream in the lazing day.
Warm breath's caress upon my skin, my enemy, captor, child. Your trust betrays my soul.
Sate your mortal soul in my darkness. Oh, turn to me, all light and passion, then awaken to the night.
Frank finds that his eyesight is blurring. Gaping still at the paper, he swipes an arm over his eyes and peers at the scrawling at the end. He reads: "A.D. Cash, 10/28/96. I'm in my rooms over the garage, if you need me. C." The mortal looks the poem over, feeling his throat suddenly tight with emotion. [My poet sire, my wolf,] he thinks, feeling a wash of tenderness within him for Cash.
He glances at the bedside clock. [Four hours until *the* time,] he notes soberly. [Four hours left to my... mortality.] Frank, the pragmatist that he is, knows that what he has been contemplating for days is finally here, and that it is time he face it fully. [I'm going to die,] he tells himself, glancing back at the poem on the paper. [When did I start to care for Cash so much? Soon he will... kill me, drain me. And I will turn away from the Light and come back to him, come back to my beloved sire, so easily and quickly become loved...]
Much to do, much to prepare, wrap his mind more deeply around what is to be. Uncurling from the bed, Frank gets up and goes into the bathroom, taking care of necessaries, taking a hot, scouring shower, a good shave, a sort of purification ritual he feels he must endure. The hard part is that he is alone for this step, but Frank knows all too well, having seen plenty of death as a cop, that everyone in the end... is alone.
In the steaming shower he pauses to feel the pulse point of the carotid artery in his neck. His mortal heartbeat pulses against his fingers, strong and steady. [Hard to believe I'll be having heart failure in a few hours,] he muses, feeling his pulse... like this, anyway, mortal fast... for the last time. Soon Cash will be biting into his artery *here*, and his life's blood will pump out into the Kindred's throat. [Not much to miss, leaving behind mortality,] he muses, also noting the empty ache in his stomach. He hasn't eaten since after being with Julian yesterday morning, enduring his own fast. But not for the same reasons as Cash. The Kindred needs to fast to build up his capacity for ingesting all of Frank's blood, whereas Frank just needs to fast so he doesn't have anything in his stomach to puke up later. [Cute. I just LOVE dry heaves.]
His skin still tingling, Frank selects his clothes from the few things he's brought with him from his apartment. They will have to do - a black gabardine shirt which he pulls on and buttons up, leaving the top two undone; clean black denims, short black boots. [Black like the night,] he muses, glancing in the mirror. He runs his fingers through his unruly hair, still damp from the shower. At the moment, he doesn't really care how wild it looks. [Wild is good,] he thinks with a sardonic smile which fades almost immediately.
The Embrace is going to be taking place in Cash's apartment above the garage. [Not ready to go there yet,] Frank thinks, though he wants to see Cash, needs to focus on Cash. [There is time for that,] he adds, then gives his mortal self a last glance in the mirror. [Not like I'm going to look any different, Kouhanek, stop being silly. You're already pale enough..] Fingers through his hair again, and he realizes he is nervous. [What a surprise...]
With a sigh he opens the bedroom door and enters the sitting room of his suite. "Hey, Stone," he greets his guard, the tall, blond Gangrel second.
Stone stands up as the mortal approaches, something of a lazy smile growing on his face. "Hey, Frank," the Gangrel returns, then as Frank reaches him, gives him a brief, quick hug, inhaling deeply with a brush of nose against his ear before releasing him. "Going to go good," he murmurs.
The hug - one wolf-brother to another - brings out a small smile from the detective. "Yeah, hope so. Hey, Stone, I need to go out, take some think time before... before I go to Cash. Out in the woods - would that be all right?"
"Sure," Stone replies, "but I'd better come along. I'll stay distant - you won't even know I'm there." He pulls out his radio, shrugging in apology. "Gotta let the man know, sorry."
"Yeah, I know," Frank sighs. "It's all right."
Stone calls Cash on the radio. "Hey, Cash - yeah, he's up, wants to go out in the woods for a bit... of course I'm going with him. We'll be cool. I'll bring him to you, no prob. Later, brother."
He gestures for Frank to precede him. "After you, man."
Deep in the woods behind the mansion, Frank returns to the clearing Cash brought him to yesterday, with the cairn of standing stones in the center, the face of a cliff to the north. Stone has let him go on ahead to this place, remaining back aways, close enough for Gangrel scent and hearing to track the mortal but be out of sight. Frank moves to the stone seat by the cliff, and sits, leaning over with his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands as he begins to sort out his thoughts.
[I'm going to die to my mortal life. But I'm doing the right thing,] he tells himself, then notes to his dismay that his heart is pounding at the thought of facing death, his hands shaking, his skin clammy. [Calm down, get a grip,] Frank adds, then realizes he has to go through this, has to fully look at what is going to happen to him. It's not time to calm down yet. That will come when he's with Cash, when he has a chance to focus on... on... his killer. [Gotta face this - that's what he is in mortal terms, my murderer. God!]
Shaking badly, Frank draws his legs up under himself, laying on his side on the wide seat, the stone cold against his body. [What if I lose my way, can't come back?] his thoughts turn to his darkest fears. [I don't want to die!] A choked sob escapes him, then his reason forces his physical reaction down. [Not going to lose my way, not going to die for good,] he tells himself sternly. [Cash won't let me.]
Abruptly he sits up again, rubbing at his face and hair, shaking off the morbid thoughts. Frank gives in to his usual harsh realism. [Hell, if I die, I die, and that will just be it, Kouhanek, it will be all over. They'll grieve for you for a bit, perhaps. I won't care at that point.] He snorted with derision. [Usually you don't have this much time to think about dying, Kouhanek, not when a perp has his gun leveled at you and that wild look in his eye that tells you he's going to shoot, no doubt about it and all you can do is hope you get the Kevlar in between the bullet and whatever he aims for...] Frank rubs at his shoulder where one such bullet did miss the Kevlar vest once. He's taken bullets, been stabbed, been hit unconscious with a variety of nasty things that have no business connecting with heads. [Hey, at least I'll heal faster from those now...]
Frank has experienced his share of physical pain as a detective. [I don't think this is going to be like that,] he notes, making himself take the next fear off the shelf for a good look-see. The worst pain had been from a shattered bone in his right forearm from a very large bastard with a steel pipe. That had been agony - but localized. [Going to hurt bad, this is,] Frank notes soberly. [Not just in one spot but all over. Cash said I'll feel like he's sent me straight to hell, 'betrayed me to hell', he said. But he'll be there, and in my head, even.]
He leans back against the cold stone, sighing. Frank feels the late October cold, but does not heed it, not wanting physical comfort, not when he knows it's going to get worse. [It all boils down to one thing - trusting Cash. Trust that he can stop drinking my blood at the right time, trust that he will call me back, help me come back to him, trust him to be my lifeline while my body goes through this agonizing metamorphosis. Do I trust him with all that?]
Then he thinks of his future sire, and the memories instantly relax him a little. In just a few short days Cash has become huge in his life already, bonding with him as a brother, a friend, a mentor... a potential lover. Groaning, Frank draws his legs up as he sits sideways on the stone seat, hugging his knees as he lets his thoughts drift into that erotic arena for a few minutes. [Since Julian took me,] Frank muses, eyes closed, [I have wanted his lover, Cash...and not just in lust. Cash...]
His throat tightens unexpectedly, a hotness in his eyes, an ache in his heart. [I... I love him,] he admits to himself, feeling a contradictory swell of love mingled with the bitterness of knowing he could never share in what Cash and Julian are to each other. Still, he knows of the warm regard for him that both Kindred hold for him. [Even if they won't name it as 'love',] he acknowledges. [They won't put that word on it. But I know it's there, I know what it is. Not what they have for each other, certainly, but it's still love nevertheless, especially from Cash. I must know it, or else I will leap into that pure Light and be done with this life. This is NOT about duty and honor, and keeping a promise to Alexandra. There is more here...]
A new resolution firmed within the mortal. [And if there isn't, if there is anything of a lie in all this after all their promises, I can always go into the sun. Then at least I can be with her...]
Frank feels momentarily dizzy, thinking of Alexandra. [She gave me the Wild,] he thinks, remembering the sick feeling the taste of her blood gave him just as he remembers the change that started in him then, the urges he did not understand, the deep passion within him, or rather, his own passion brought out, set free. [Where does passion lead if not to love?] His mind's eye leaves behind images of Alexandra, and images of Cash replace them, and Julian. But mostly Cash... and the memories of the gentle touching and the kisses both soft and hard from the Gangrel sear through him as he starts to ache for Cash again.
[I will save this for the future,] Frank thinks, settling into a new calmness. [My love for you, my sire, I will keep for our future.] The hotly erotic thoughts he has toward Cash, aching to join with his body, are set aside firmly for another day.
His thoughts drift for a while and he pauses to let his environment fill his awareness. Cold stone, tall trees, the whisper of wind and the shuffling of leaves on the ground. Frank feels the other ache now, but it is welcome. [I'm coming home,] he thinks with a happy sigh. [I am of the Wild, a wolf finding his pack. 'Already a Gangrel' Cash said. Perhaps this was meant to be a long time ago, before I'd met Alexandra. Perhaps this was always meant to be...]
Frank uncurls and gets up from the stone seat. [Time to come home, Kouhanek,] he thinks, leaving the clearing to join Stone and return to the mansion.
Outside the mansion, Frank says good-bye to Stone... and just as he is going to head for the garage, he turns and runs straight into Sonny Toussaint, his partner. "Sonny... shit, what are you doing here?" Frank gasps, recovering his balance.
The Ventrue primogen puts his hands on the mortal's shoulders, steadying him. "Easy, Frank, I'm just *here*, okay? Think you could keep me away?"
All Frank can think about is seeing Cash. "Whatever, I just don't want a crowd, I don't want anyone else," he mutters, "Just go home, Sonny."
[Already growling at me,] Sonny thinks, but he sees that Frank is already focused on the evening ahead and is probably eager to get to Cash. "Look, Frank," he says, releasing him, "I'm just going to be in the mansion, somewhere close. You gotta give me that. I don't want to see you afterwards, just want to get the report from someone, Morgaine or somebody."
"Who?" Frank shoots him a scowl.
"Never mind," Sonny replies, exasperated. [Whooo, he's got one thing on his mind... which is good, glad he's so solid on this.] "Go to Cash. Good luck, buddy." He gives him a last touch on the shoulder and turns to go into the house.
Frank catches him with a hand to his arm a second later. "Thanks, Sonny. Sorry, you know how wired I get when something big is going down." He sighs as the Ventrue looks back at him. "Thanks, man. Glad you're here."
Sonny smiles, relaxing. "You're welcome and thanks. Now, go, get Gangrelized. See you soon."
In his rooms, Cash has just stepped out of the shower. He towels himself off and pads nude into the bedroom. He pulls on a worn pair of jeans and a tight black tee, then turns to the closet. [Ummmm, jeans - no, I want this to be special.....] Flicking his hand over the contents of his closet, his eyes light on a pair of black leather pants, not often worn these days - a bit too "cutting edge" for the mansion, a white silk long sleeved shirt.
Taking the steps two at a time, Frank finally mounts the landing. He turns the corner and comes into the apartment. Looking around, he notes the eclectic decor: Mission style furniture (heavy oak, minimal decorations Arts and Crafts sytle) small fireplace, worn red oriental rugs. LOTS of books, overflowing on both sides of the windowseat overlooking the courtyard. Computer on the table in the corner.
[Books?] Frank thinks, sure he's never seen the Gangrel with a book. [Huh...] "Hey, Cash, man," he calls, coming in slowly, "you here?"
"Frank?" the Gangrel's voice comes from the bedroom on the other side of the suite. A second later a damp, tousled head peeks around the door frame. "Hey, welcome to my place."
Cash steps out into the living room, still slightly damp from the shower. His black tee shirt is like a second skin, clinging to his shoulders and pectorals. His worn jeans have the top button unbuttoned and he's barefoot. Altogether he looks like a man who just climbed out of bed to answer the door and will be back there within minutes.
The sight of his future sire like *that* makes Frank's mouth go dry, a twinge shooting through his groin. [Damn, even *I* would peg that man as utterly fuckable, like THIS!] "Ah..." [Yeah, and what am I to say to him NOW? Hungry, my eye!!] He swallows with difficulty, recovering his composure. "Hey, loved the poem, you wolf... thanks..."
Cash smiles, a quick, fleeting grin that makes him look so very young. "Don't tell the clan, I'd never live it down." If Kindred blushed, Cash would be now.
Frank crosses to him, but his glance slides away and down. He is sure that his feelings for Cash are naked on his face. "Secret's safe with me, man." Then, still not able to meet his eyes, he pulls Cash in with an arm, greeting him with a kiss that is careful, not the liplock that a lot of his body aches for. Careful but warm...
The Gangrel returns the kiss, putting strong arms around the mortal's back. When the kiss breaks, he whispers, "Not long now, my brother."
Another spike of electricity runs through the mortal at the reminder. "I know."
Cash slips a hand under Frank's chin, raising his face, needing to see his eyes. "You okay?"
Frank, swallowing, isn't able to look him straight in the eye at first, but then subsides, meeting his gaze at last. "Yeah." he murmurs, rubbing Cash's back a little as if grounding himself. "Yeah, just want to do this... and more." He manages his sideways smirk for a moment. "You look... good, man. Perhaps too good."
Cash runs his hand down the side of Frank's face, very gently. "We'll have all the time you want, man. All the time you need." At the last comment, Cash grins. "Yeah? Well, save that thought...."
"You can count on that," Frank replies quietly, then begins to relax under the gentling, the peace he felt upon returning from the woods settling back in again, now that he's with his sire-to-be.
A quick rush of desire fills the Kindred at the promise implicit in the mortal's words. "Not to worry, wolfling. You won't have to beg - much." A quick grin takes over the Gangrel's face.
The peace recedes a bit. Frank draws his breath in sharply. "Shit, man, want you NOW." [Oh, that was real wise, Kouhanek. Entice the hungry wolf, won't you?}
A howl of laughter - three might just make a crowd tonight, but sometime... "Okay, but that NOW is going to have to be 'sometime', brother, and certainly not here, not yet," Cash murmurs, chuckling. They're expecting Julian sometime within the hour.
Frank is still holding Cash close, his forehead leaning against the other, his eyes closed. He presses a little into the hand still on his cheek. "Not even sometime, wolf. For SURE. It's going to be."
Cash feels a shiver of lust spark through him, and clamps down on his controls hard. "Yeah, that's what I figure, but didn't want to push you into it." He speaks calmly, surely, hoping to rein in the mortal's passions. They aren't going to need this later.
To his relief, Frank seems to settle down, his voice calmer when he answers. "Don't mean to push either. Just know I need to be with you. Whatever you spare me..."
Cash speaks firmly, taking the other's chin in his hand. "You'll ALWAYS be my childe. Nobody can take that away from us. What we do with our bond is up to us. I'll be there for you, man."
Frank sighs and takes Cash's hand from his chin and holds it against his chest. "I don't... want to interfere with you and Julian, though. So, like I said... whatever you spare me." [And time to shut up, Frank, before you say something you'll regret.]
[Needs a hell of a lot of reassurance, this one,] Cash considers, then wonders if there's something else operating here, something Frank's not saying. "Frank, you couldn't break that bond even if you tried. And no-one will be able to break ours either." [Should I tell him my one great fear is ever having to choose between Julian and my clan? He'll know it from my blood soon enough.]
Taking a deep breath, Frank lifts his head and looks him straight in the eye. "I know that." Then he claps his mouth shut. [He doesn't want to hear that, Kouhanek...]
There's a poignancy to Frank's voice that cuts into Cash. "My brother, which part of what I said are you focusing on? NO one can ever part us. Till one of us meets our Final Death, we will be linked together."
The emotions threaten his composure yet again. "That link... it means a great deal to me, brother. YOU... mean a great deal to me." He sighs, wishing he didn't feel so much, wishing this whole thing was just OVER.
Cash draws the mortal against him again, close within his arms. "Soon, soon, wolfling, very soon. I know you have been walking a knife edge. Just hold on to me, we'll come through the fire together."
"Going to hold on very tight, then," Frank gasps, holding the smaller frame hard against his body. "The fire is going to burn me deep." But he thinks silently to himself, [And I can't tell him I love him. I can never touch, threaten what he and Julian have, wouldn't ever want to. I'll have to bear my love in silence. So be it. I have other scars, this will just be another one on my heart to keep them company.]
"We'll go through the flames together, my brother." [Not like me, Frank, never alone like I had to be, never outcast, never caitiff and afraid.] Cash places a gentle kiss on the mortal's lips, a promise made unspoken.
Frank returns the kiss, trembling for a moment, then beginning to quiet again as the peace he'd won in the forest finds its way back to him. Now he can set this aside, now he can ground himself in Cash and be ready for the Embrace.
"Frank," The Gangrel sets the mortal a little away from him, holding him by the forearms, "You said yesterday you were okay with my religion. Okay enough to watch me practice it?
The mortal nods, wondering. "Of course." [Maybe there will be a whisper of that solace in it for me, too,] he thinks, nodding and letting go of him.
"Don't worry, Frank, I'll not impose it on you. Even Julian seldom sees this side of me. I just need...... " Cash looks away for a moment, a nearly shy glance, "... to kinda 'center' myself right now. Ask a blessing on us. Can't hurt, might help."
Frank retreats to one of the heavy oak chairs, settling into it with a sigh, his eyes on Cash the whole time. "Please do that, Cash, I'd like that, too," he murmurs, intrigued.
Cash smiles to himself, Frank is turning out more open minded than anticipated on *several* levels. The Gangrel moves to the cold fireplace and lays a small fire. Frank leans forward, fascinated, when Cash reaches not for the fireplace matches, but for a shard of flint and a tiny bone hilted knife laying in a pottery bowl on the mantle. Kneeling back on the hearth, Cash strikes sparks from the back of the knife blade, gently blowing to fan them in to first a flickering, then a certain flame.
Cash rises to his feet, the knife still in his hand, pacing a rough circle in the room, including the chair that Frank occupies in the confines of his sacred space. Moving gently, halfway between a prowl and a dance, Cash moves toward the north of that space, holding his knife point down, facing the window that looks out over the courtyard. "Lord of the Earth, I petition you to attend. Bless this space and your servant." Cash moves to the east and repeats the invocation to the Air, in front of the fire to the south, to Fire, and finally to the west, toward the ocean, to Water.
The quiet movements, the soft chanting quality of Cash's voice begin to deepen the peace Frank feels. He sits back, impressed, respectful.
Coming again to stand before the fireplace, Cash reaches into a linen bag that rests on the mantle. He casts a handful of its contents into the fire. With a pop and hiss the resin burns and the scent of pine forests fills the room. Cash then kneels again before the fire. "Lord, God of the forest, Master of beast, Lord of the hunt and of war. Attend to your servant, my Lord and Liege." There is a long pause, broken only by the snap and hiss of the burning wood.
Frank lets the scent fill his nostrils. Watching the kneeling form before the fire, he realizes that there is so very much he still does not know about this man who would be his sire. Books, poems, pagan rituals... he hopes he will be able to learn more after his Embrace. Frank feels a deep sense of privilege, being able to witness this.
"Lord, consort of the Lady, protect your servant this night, make clear my mind, make steady my will." Cash raises his hands palm up before the fire, an offering of self. Then he picks up the knife he had set aside, and with a quick slash opens a shallow cut across his palm, spilling a few drops of blood into the flames. He brings his hand to his lips, sealing the cut with a quick lick. "Lord, to you my blood is given in token and pledge."
The sight of Cash's blood sends an immediate thrill through the mortal, but he is careful to keep still and silent.
"Lady, Goddess of the Night, Watcher of birth and death and rebirth, Mother of us all. Attend to your child, my Lady and Liege." Again the long pause for the silence to fill both the celebrant and the watcher.
"Lady, mother and wife of the Lord, protect this mortal this night, make calm his heart, make clear his intention. Guide him into your night as my childe. Protect us both, my Goddess."
[He's calling a blessing from his god and goddess for ME,] Frank thinks, deeply moved. Religion has never been his tack, but then he's never even had any sort of proper introduction to it, even to Christianity. No one to bother to. Frank finds himself slipping off the chair onto his knees, but freezes, fearing to offend by the movement.
Cash catches that forward movement from the corner of his eye; turning to Frank, he holds out his hand, beckoning, a dreamy smile on his face, a far-away look in his eyes.
Swallowing, Frank glimpses the otherly cast to the Gangrel's face and averts his eyes, embarrassed, but he takes the extended hand and comes forward to kneel beside him.
Cash half turns from the fire, laying the knife blade, still stained with his own blood, across Frank's palm. He slants an inquiring glance at the mortal, bemused by the combination of awe and embarrassment on Frank's face.
Frank looks from the knife blade to Cash's eyes, and suddenly the shyness evaporates. He nods firmly, understanding and assenting to be part of the ritual.
Cash pulls the knife along the fleshy part of Frank's hand at the base of the thumb, then quickly repeats the gesture on his own hand, then both reach out to the fire, letting a few drops fall. "Lady, to you our blood is given in token and pledge." Cash turns to Frank, pressing their bloody palms together. "I swear to you, my brother and childe, I will be the best sire to you that it is possible for me to be. To give you what you need to grow and prosper in the Dark. I swear this before my God and my Goddess."
His eyes riveted to the Kindred's, Frank responds in a husky voice, "And I swear to you, brother and sire, I will be your childe and learn from you our ways, give you all the devotion our bond requires. I... swear." He does not know where these words have come from in him, he only knows they must be said. Saying the word "sire" to Cash, at last, Frank feels a tremendous peace and rightness.
Cash leans forward to brush his lips across Frank's. The mortal's pledge, so right and so unexpected, fills his heart, a rush of pride, possessiveness and even something that edges into love at the formal words.
[Sire...] Frank thinks, leaning to receive the kiss. His heart is full, brimming. [Soon I can call you that. And I will be your childe at last. At last... Yours.]
Cash turns the mortal's palm up and drags his tongue over the shallow wound, healing it and then leaves a swift kiss in the center of the palm. His own cut has healed with Kindred speed, needing no attention.
Frank watches as Cash heals his cut, sighs at the kiss to his palm. [Poet wolf...]
Cash runs his hand down Frank's face, again stroking the mortal's hair and skin, resting his fingertips for just a second on the pulse point at the base of his throat.
The mortal lifts his chin, inhaling a quick puff of air at the touch, closing his eyes. [He could Embrace me now, I'm ready for him,] Frank thinks, sighing.
And something else shifts within Frank, another understanding settling into place. He can feel the Kindred's power over him - "life and death", Cash had said two nights ago. [I trust him, I will yield to him,] Frank adds to himself, thrilling even as the fingertips leave his throat.
Cash stands, lightly, feet apart, facing the fire, his palms upward. "Lord and Lady, bless this place and these your servants. We thank you for your careful watch over us this night. Bless us and those we love, now and always, into the Light." Cash walks to each quarter where he had invoked protection and makes a quick slashing motion with the knife in his hand.
Frank, waiting for Cash to finish, looks down at his healed palm, wondering what the little bit of Cash's blood that entered his wound might be doing in him. [Seal me to him, make me his... I can hope. Want to do this... soon...]
Cash bows his head for a long minute, feeling the power raised in the prayers and ritual swirl around him, releasing the blessing to center around Frank's person. [I'll ward him like I did Julian on the next full moon. He's MINE, mine to protect, mine to Embrace, ....soon....]
The Gangrel stalks over to stand before the still kneeling Frank. His bare feet almost touch the mortal's knees. "Frank." The voice is deceptively gentle, "Look at me."
Frank stirs suddenly, straightening, looking up into the Kindred's face. "Sorry, I like zoned out or something, er... is it over?" [Can I get up now?] he wonders, noting the Gangrel's stance.
"That's the 'trance of the gods'. Sometimes one gets visions in it. Don't worry." Cash reaches down to give Frank a hand, pulling the taller man to his feet. "I need to get dressed, you want to wait here and build up the fire a little?"
Frank stands and sighs, still feeling a little of the "trance". "Just a minute..." He touches Cash shyly on the chest. "Thanks, Cash. I... ah... that was an amazing experience." He doesn't know what to say, but he has to say something. "Thanks."
"I am honored that you shared the circle." Cash says formally, then softens. "It means a lot to me that you can accept this part of me, even Julian has only stood in my circle a couple of times, he's Catholic and it makes him nervous, I think."
"Nothing about it to make me nervous," Frank replies, slanting a smile at him. "I liked it." Then he realizes what Cash just asked. [Wait here? Hell, if I watched you get dressed... nooooo, that is not a good idea.] He dares to wink at the Gangrel. "Sure, I'll wait here while you get dressed."
"Build up the fire a bit, I made it small so I wouldn't get burned in the offering, but it's gonna be chilly tonight. Put some more of the resin in if you like the smell of it. I'll be right back."
"Yeah, the pine smelled real good, fresh. I'll do that." Frank settles down again by the fireplace as Cash goes into the other room.
Cash hurries into the other room, and quickly into the bath. Splashing a double handful of cold water on his face, he looks somberly at himself in the mirror. [Oh Frank, just the taste of you in my mouth..... CALM DOWN, wolf, it's only gonna get more intense. You've got another half, three quarters of an hour before Julian can get here, and Frank needs reassurance. I can smell his fear. No, not exactly fear, his adrenaline, his excitement. The Beast Within is drawn to it, he smells like prey, but not quite.]
But despite himself, a quick flash of anxiety flares in the Gangrel, mental images of failed Embraces, a Gangrel childe gone into the sun in her sire's absence, the rape and non-consensual Embrace of Sasha who was to be Cash's own. Then the horror and pain of his own Embrace, being accosted by Stevie outside the bar, his sire bent over the unconscious body of a streetwalker, blood on his mouth. "Live or die, Soldier Boy," the words hissed in his ear as the darkness claimed him. Hard hands and harsh teeth tearing at him. He shudders and leans forward, clenching his hands against the cold porcelain of the sink. [It will NOT happen that way, I swear it.]
"Oh, god and goddess, help me." A desperate, whispered prayer, then suddenly as a benediction, peace fills the Gangrel. [No, none of those things will happen: Frank knows what will happen, he wants this and wants to be Gangrel, Julian will be here to stay me if I cannot pull away in time, I am not like Stevie and I am making a child for the *right* reasons and with the prince's sanction. It's not like ANY of those other Embraces, and I am being very foolish. Thank you, Lord and Lady.] With a brisk shake of his head, Cash dries his hands and heads into the bedroom to dress.
Skinning into the tight leather pants, he starts to snicker at himself. The Gangrel mutters, "It's just like pre-battle nerves. I always got a touch jittery just before we hit the beach." He pulls on soft low boots and the white silk shirt slides over his shoulders before his laces up the fly of the black leather pants. Cash starts to button the shirt, but, catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror on the bath door, decides to leave it partly open. [Julian likes this look, maybe Frank will too.]
Taking one final look at himself in the mirror, Cash squares his shoulders and glances at the clock on his bedside, [only a few more minutes], he thinks.
The Gangrel pulls open the bedroom door and stalks into the living room, the 'prowl' very evident in his walk. The wolf is very close to the surface right now.
Frank, rubbing his hands together nervously as he sits on the edge of the chair, sees Cash enter and automatically leaps to his feet... then gets a real look at him. Dry throat doesn't begin to describe this. Cash looks... absolutely *hot* in the black leather and white open shirt, his approach that of a predator. A flush of excitement thrums through the mortal. "Dressed to kill has just taken on a whole new meaning, man," he mutters as the Gangrel approaches. The detective rubs nervously at his mouth with the back of his hand.
Cash's sensitive ears catch that, and the quip hits his rather dark sense of humor just right. He tilts his head back and howls with laughter. To be sure, there is an ever so slightly hysterical undertone to it, but honest mirth, nonetheless.
Frank laughs with him, chuckling at his sardonic quip. Closing the space between them, he slips his hands around the slim waist of the other, smiling as he draws him close. "I need more leather in *my* wardrobe, what do you think? Would we make quite the pair, eh, wolf?"
"Oh yeah, like bookends. But you'll want some leathers for the gathers in the mountains." Cash grins, a sudden, feral grin, "And it's a good look to hunt in..."
The mortal's eyes gleam as he nods, letting the Wild surge in him, ready to let loose when Cash's feral Gangrel blood joins it. "I can't wait..." he sighs, and leans down to take Cash's mouth in a kiss, slipping his arms around him.
The Gangrel leans up, and opens his mouth to the kiss, putting his hands to the nape of the mortal's neck, pulling him in, demanding.
[YES,] Frank thinks, responding in an equal demand, needing this last moment of ardor as a mortal, kissing with more promise than real urgency and need, knowing that their first sexual encounter after Frank's Embrace will be explosive.
Cash pulls back a little, keeping his hands in Frank's hair. "Easy, man, calm. Let's not get carried away, wolfling."
Frank's hands halt in their progress to grasp the Gangrel by the ass, settle back on his waist. He sighs heavily, his eyes hooded as they separate a little. "Damn," Frank murmurs, knowing from the hard bulge in the front of those luscious leather pants how Cash wants him, too.
[He's hungry,] Frank marvels, caressing Cash's back warmly, [And he can pull back.] It sobers him, helps him to settle back into the seriousness of what they're going to be about. "Nearly time, isn't it?" he adds quietly.
"Just about, let's put some of the big pillows down by the fire and just lay together. I felt so warm in your arms last night. We crave that warmth, you know. I'll miss your mortal side, but it'll be worth it."
Mortal and Kindred arrange pillows on the floor and settle down together side by side. Frank wants at first to settle the smaller Gangrel against him like when they slept, but he wants to look at him, and they end up laying in each other's arms, facing each other.
The fire pops and crackles behind the wolf's head andirons, and a silence falls between the two.
Frank feels a return of that peace once more, content to study Cash's face, touch his cheek. His thoughts calm in the knowledge that there is no place on earth he'd rather be right now.
Cash listens to the soothing throb of the mortal heart, his arm draped over Frank, content in the moment to await the prince.
