Remembrance: written by Kora Knight & Raven Foxx
"Hang with me, vampire."
Staring out his room's barred window, Jazz watches as the underworld realm's sun begins to set. The hues are striking, yet hold an underlying ominous appearance. He sighs. So much has shifted in his way of thinking—about this place, about himself, about his captor. He chuckles darkly under his breath, knowing anyone with a rational mind would say he's begun to suffer from Stockholm syndrome, but Jazz knows it’s something far more complicated than just mere psychological confusion.
He leans his forehead against one the of window's many bars. He misses his siblings. He misses the fresh air of the world above. He misses goodness and simple pleasures and carefree moments. He frowns then. He knows if he ever finds a way to leave this place, he'd also miss Seth. God, he was so fucked in the head. He hates the man—and yet wants him.
Groaning, he curses himself for ending up in such a screwed-up situation.
Quietly entering the room, Seth frowns, spying the angel at the window. Such sorrow on the male’s face. It oddly touches him. He moves forward and silently slides an arm around Jazz's shoulders, pressing himself against the angel’s back.
Sighs against Jazz's neck, he tucks his face into its warmth. “Tell me what's on your mind,” he whispers.
How strange to crave this tender, quiet moment. He feels the angel stiffen then—slowly, surprisingly— relax. The scent of spice and male tickles Seth’s senses. How something so pure and good could stir him, he doesn’t understand, but the angel had at times. Many times.
He shifts behind Jazz and presses closer, nearly pinning him between the window and his body.
Jazz had felt when Seth entered the room, his dark aura a dead giveaway to an angel’s spidey senses. But when Seth's warm arm settled against him and his rough cheek grazed Jazz’s neck, Jazz's internal battle flared right back to life. But he’s just so friggin tired—and to be honest, lonely. Any physical contact at this point feels so freaking good.
No surprise, really. His very nature requires affection. Thrives on it. After all, he was fashioned from the ultimate source of love. But as Seth's body presses more intimately with his, Jazz stills, biting his lip restlessly with a frown.
Turning, he faces the dark hybrid, scant inches separating their mouths. Jazz leans his head back against the wall and meets Seth’s gaze.
“What's on my mind? A ton of things. Shit I don’t know what to make of. And honestly, I don’t really want to try. Not at the moment, at least.”
Seth's eyes stay locked with his. Jazz sighs and pushes against his visitor, breaking their close proximity to move from the window.
On the way, though, he takes hold of Seth's arm. “Come sit with me, vampire.” He frowns. “I'm lonely as fuck in this place. Hang with me for a while or some shit.”
Seth gives him a peculiar look.
Jazz can’t help but laugh. “Don’t worry. Unlike you, I don’t typically bite.” He tugs him across the room. “Now sit down and… just chill.”
Seth comes with him, looking cautious. Both sprawl out next to each other on the bed, staring at the ceiling. Long moments pass.
“So tell me,” Jazz finally murmurs. “How’d you get to be lord of this fucked up place, anyway?”
Seth exhales, still contemplating Jazz’s words from before. He can understand loneliness. He often felt that way, too, even when sitting on a throne surrounded by followers.
As he tucks an arm behind his head, his partially unbuttoned shirt opens wider, baring a glimpse of his powerful, undead chest. “How did I get to be lord? I was born to it.” He shrugged. “Like the males of my family before me. It was left to me by my father, as one day I will leave it to my children. Whichever one proves worthy, that is. Right now,” he mutters, “my sons are naught but a disappointment.” Turning his head, he frowns at Jazz. “Do you really find it so horrible here? Is there nothing here that you've enjoyed?” Why in hell’s fire did he care if the angel was happy?
Staring at the ceiling, Jazz can feel Seth's eyes heavy on his face. Slowly, he turns his gaze to the vampire lying beside him. How bizarre. But he pauses when he spots a flicker of sadness in Seth’s eyes. What was wrong with him?
Jazz clears his throat and forces a wry grin. “Well, the beatings were pretty fantastic,” he drawls. “And the shackles were sweet, too. I might have to get me a pair one day when I—” He catches himself as Seth's eyes flash fire.
Sighing, Jazz shakes his head. “No. There’s nothing here I enjoy. It’s saturated with pain, hopelessness, and despair.”
Seth grunts and looks away.
Jazz turns to face him fully. “But if I'm completely honest,” he murmurs low, not sure he wants Seth to hear, “there is one thing that at times brings me… pleasure.” His splays his hand atop the covers in the small space between them, then briefly brushes Seth's bicep with his pinky.
The underlord looks back at him.
Jazz slowly blinks, lips parting. “What exactly do you like about this place?”
Seth stares at him, his skin tingling where the angel had touched him. A curious feeling, but good. He decides he likes it. “This is all I’ve ever known.” He sighs wearily and shrugs. “But it can be boring. Bland. Empty even. Even darkness needs some light—just as your light clearly needs some darkness.”
Pensively, he sits up and drapes an arm around his knee. “Like any king, I find my kingdom lacking. Not perfect. In need of restoration at times. Improvement.” Cold, black, abyss. Why was he sharing so freely? He didn’t share. It was against his very nature.
Jazz blinks, taken off guard by the dark lord’s sudden openness. He’d been expecting the guy to tell him to shut the fuck up.
But then Seth’s words sink in, and it makes Jazz frown. What a shitty situation to live in. Yeah, the vampire reigned here, but damn, it isn’t exactly the kind of kingdom one could appreciate. At least not for an angel like himself.
He flops onto his back again and draws in a breath. “Maybe you need to get out more. Live above ground for a while. Ever think of trying a time share? Vacation house?” He grins at Seth. “I might come visit your ornery ass if you did.”
Seth rolls his eyes. Jazz chuckles and shoves at his leg.
Seth looks down at him. “I’ve only just awakened,” he mutters. “I am above ground now but had been asleep for years. Lifetimes, really.” He sighs. “This world is so strange. The way people dress and speak.” Shaking his head, he looks away and scrubs his face. “Besides,” he murmurs, “you would never come to visit me.”
Jazz absently brushes his knuckle along Seth's thigh. The vampire’s words are surprising. “Why were you asleep for so long?” he asks, purposely avoiding the male’s last statement. When Seth doesn’t reply, Jazz abandons the question and shifts back onto his side again. His brow furrows in confusion. “Seth... what exactly are you?”
Seth laughs softly, extending a hand to run fingers through Jazz’s thick, dark locks. When the angel's eyes slowly close, he smiles sadly. “I'm not quite sure what I am anymore. I was born a pure blood vampire. I am one of the last,” he muses softly. “But I am also so much more. I have taken so much from others that I believe I am now some sort of mixed breed mutt—as my father would have called me.” He shrugs. “I suppose most would consider me demonic, a demonic vampire for sure.”
Jazz inches closer, unable to help himself. Fuck it, he straight up needs the physical contact. If he's got to get it from Seth, then so be it. Besides, the vampire is, for once, in a decent mood—as in, willing to talk without snarling or sneering.
Seth leans his back against the headboard and stretches his legs out alongside Jazz's body. Jazz casually drapes his arm over the vampire’s thigh. Seth's fingers slip back into Jazz’s mane, lazily stroking his scalp.
Shit, that feels so good.
Jazz's eyes slide closed again. He bets Seth has no idea he's capable of bringing such pleasure from his simple touch.
Only when he becomes utterly relaxed do Seth's soft words finally register. Jazz frowns at their implications. “You’re no mutt, Seth,” he mumbles against the vampire’s side. His fingers absently stroke Seth’s thigh as he ponders his words further. “Have you taken my essence?” he asks quietly. “Is part of me part of you now, too?”
Seth frowns up at the ceiling, no longer able to look at the angel. Witnessing himself stroking Jazz’s hair so tenderly would only piss him off—or worse.
His jaw ticks, contemplating Jazz’s question. “I have taken your blood, but no, not your essence. To do so would make me sick.” His fingers still. His voice dips low. “Why? Do you want me to?” When Jazz hesitates to answer, he laughs harshly. “You do, don’t you. So you can hurt me.”
His grip turns cruel in the angel’s locks, causing the male to stiffen. Seth draws in a deep breath, then forces his fingers to uncurl. Sighing, he reaches up and slowly unbuttons his shirt. “If that is what you want,” he mutters, the fine material parting to expose his chest fully, “then take the knife from my boot and bury it here.” He slides his hand over his tan flesh to rest just above his heart.
Jazz stills at the tone of Seth's voice. Damn, he sounds so different tonight. Like a regular person with a soul and a conscience and... feelings. But he also sounds raw—and extremely rough around the edges. His offer was beyond whack.
Jazz looks straight into his eyes, and without breaking their stare, slides his hand down Seth's leg. Slipping his fingers into the dark lord's boot, he retrieves the mentioned blade. “You think I'll do it, Seth?” he murmurs. “You think I'll sink this dagger deep into your chest?”
Seth sends him a look that Jazz can only describe as sad betrayal.
Jazz grits his teeth. “Do you trust me, vampire?” he snarls, abruptly straddling Seth’s hips. The dark male stiffens as Jazz puts the knife to his sternum. But still, the vampire doesn’t reply. “Do. You. Trust me?” Jazz growls.
Seth groans through a harsh laugh. “I trust no one. They all fail me.”
He can feel himself grow hard as Jazz straddles him. Watching the knife, he casually raises his hands above his head to grip onto the headboard. Slowly he arches, a rumble slipping free as his action causes the blade to poke into his flesh. It’s as if someone was stroking his cock. A fat drop of blood wells from his skin—brilliant crimson against thick, dense muscle.
“More,” he pants, straining up into the blade. But when Jazz jerks the blade back in surprise, he can’t stop the moan that escapes. “No... Don't,” he all but begs. “Do it. You know you want to. Just do it!”
Jazz is completely baffled. He hadn’t expected Seth’s reaction. And he certainly hadn’t planned on actually cutting him. Yet, damn, the vampire acts as if he really wants him to. Jazz's eyes darken. He can’t. He shouldn’t. Or maybe he should…
Before he realizes what he’s doing, he begins dragging the blade down Seth's tensed abdomen, slicing a super-thin, super-shallow line along the male’s decadent six-pack. A neat line of deep, glistening blood instantly surfaces. Jazz's insides ignite as its heady smell hits him.
Before he can stop himself, he leans down and hastily laps at the wound. Just as quickly, he sits back up, half-mast eyes locking with Seth’s. The vampire is holding his breath, staring at him as he brutally grips the headboard.
“More,” he growls, his eyes glittering black fire.
Jazz pauses. For the first time since he arrived in this godforsaken place, he feels like he has a semblance of power over Seth. Licking his lips, he drags the knife back up to circle around the vampire’s nipples, intentionally applying too little pressure to actually break the skin. The dark male snarls, his hips beginning to roll.
“Say my name, Seth,” Jazz murmurs, swallowing hard. “I want to hear it coming from your mouth.” Seth’s gaze bores into him. “Say it,” Jazz persists, “and maybe I’ll play some more with this knife.”
Surprised by Jazz’s request, he can’t help arching back up off the bed, causing the knife to stab lightly into his nipple. He moans deep in raw, unadulterated pleasure. “Yesss, that’s it…” he whispers, a shudder tearing through his body.
But Jazz quickly withdraws the source of his dark pleasure. “My name,” the angel demands. “Say it.”
Seth doesn’t take orders from anyone.
“Fuck you, angel,” he growls.
In the blink of an eye, he releases the head board and grabs hold of Jazz’s head. Shoving him down, he presses the angel’s mouth against his fresh wound. Jazz freezes, every muscle tangibly tensing. But then the angel relaxes, a sigh of defeat expelling from his lungs as he seems to give up on his plight.
Seth’s lips curve unperceivably.
“Jazz…” The faintest of whispers in the still of their room.
Lips pressed to Seth’s abdomen, Jazz frowns. Had he just imagined Seth saying his name? He raises his head to look the vampire in his burning eyes. At the same time, the blade drops from his hand. Tentative fingers slide over Seth's muscular torso, slipping through the wet redness and over one tight nipple.
Unable to resist, he licks the smeared blood from his lips. “Say it again,” he murmurs, pinching Seth’s nipple hard. When the dark male jerks, a moan rifles up Jazz’s throat. He curses low, taking in the sight of the huge, aroused male. “Fuck. Look at you—like this. You're friggin beautiful.”
Breathing hard, Seth growls at the image of Jazz covered in his blood. “Harder,” he demands, arching up again beneath him.
Jazz tweaks his nipple a second time. Seth bucks against the bed in pleasure, sucking in a raw breath. “I'm glad you find me so perfect,” he purrs, grinning as he buries his fingers back in the angel's hair. “Come here,” he grates, pulling him down, crushing their mouths together. “Jazz,” he rumbles a second time.
He can’t understand how the angel turns him on like no one else can. Just the thought of letting Jazz go, or seeing him with another, makes his blood burn like fire. It was as if...
“No,” Seth snarls, pulling free from their kiss. “No.”
Jazz frowns, his gaze confused.
Seth shakes his head furiously. “Just… NO!” Shoving the angel back, he leaps from the bed. “Fuck this,” he hisses, baring his fangs. “I will not feel! Not with you. Not with any!” He can feel his eyes blazing as he spins on his heel, can feel Jazz’s stare on his back as he storms from the room.
Jazz watches him tear out, left sitting atop his bed in bafflement.
“What the fuck just happened?” he groans.
One minute they're just chilling, nothing more, nothing less. Just two males hanging out. But the next minute, he's got Seth's blood all over him with the guy pissed off and shoving him away.
Jazz curses, scrubbing his face. How did the tables turn to suddenly make him feel like the seducer? He sure as fuck hadn’t meant shit to happen like that.
He shakes his head and falls back onto the bed, staring once more at the ceiling. His little furry friend leaps atop him with a tiny meow, then nestles into the nook of his neck. Jazz exhales heavily, stroking its small body.
“What am I gonna do, little buddy? This place, that male, they’re fucking with my head. I gotta get outta here.” With a frown, he groans again and closes his eyes, as inside his mind, Seth's velvety voice continues to purr his name.
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