Ni Solo - Bloodhair and Skorpa | December 26, 2022

 

~Biker/Supernatural verse mixed.

Snow fell heavily on the street of Stockholm, and not but a few lights could be seen on the dark street. What had once been a thriving business district was now mostly run-down condemned buildings, warehouses and a few smaller establishments that had just managed to stay afloat as the city rose around it and times had changed. One such place the old bar on the corner of the street. It was quiet mostly. One homeless man sat huddled outside the doors in a few coats and using the building to break the freezing wind that blew the snow heavily from above.

What a Christmas, not many were out. In fact the inside of the bar was not more than three older gentlemen playing pool in the corner, a man sitting slouched in the corner and the bartender. A tall grizzly looking fellow who one didn't need to get close to in order to be able to tell the homeless man outside likely smelt better. In fact at one point when up getting his drink, Sigurd swore he'd smelt straight onion on his thick breath and it nearly made him want to vomit. Unfortunately not many places were open either due to it being Christmas or because of the snow. Forget the fact it was nearly four in the morning now. He had perhaps three more hours as it was, if he decided to actually make it home at all.

Slowly opening his palm he stared down at the ring he'd been clenching all night long. At least they'd merely think she'd been mauled by dogs right? Except he couldn't get rid of that gnawing feeling of self-hate and regret in his stomach. He'd thought, however briefly… that revenge would be enough to settle for a time. It hadn't, not even as he watched the snow turn red once he'd had his fill.

"Refill?"

The bartender’s thick baritone brought him briefly back from his trance. God that smell! It was so bad he wanted it gone and would sooner barf then even call this one food. Even with the ever-tormenting sound of his heart beating a bit heavily. This whole bloodlust thing…. Not all it was talked up to be that was for sure. Not that he cared when he drained most. Not anymore than Skorpa. It was just so ANNOYING!

"No… think I'll actually close out my tab" He finally muttered moving to tossing a couple twenties down for the guy’s tip. Then sitting back he took a swig of the whiskey, dark blue hues for a moment watching as the man moved away to go retrieve his card and receipt. Feeling his phone buzzing in the pocket of his leather jacket he slowly let his eyes moving from the disgusting bartender, long enough to pull the device from his coat pocket and for a moment he eyed the text from Skorpa. Text number seventy-nine, just that night! Fuck it, he'd be back to their current lair before light. As he knew Skorpa would be as well and if he had to listen to the older man's endless harping on him about being careful so be it. However until then he was just going to ignore it and as the bartender came strolling near again with his check he moved to slip it into his pocket.

"Signature…. " The man spoke, coming to a stop at the table. You know if it wasn't for the smell, Sigurd might have considered sticking around to chat with the guy, perhaps even put him out of misery. His voice alone sounded as though he was just barely existing enough to make it to this shit job. Guess there could have been shittier lives right ….. then again he'd have paid money to trade positions with anyone else who'd managed to avoid the same level of heart break he wasn't sure would ever dull. Fucking bitch! Had he not given her everything!!? Well, ok to be fair he felt like he'd been saying that for longer than he could even remember. He only faintly remembered the good times enough to feel, stupid….

Moving to sign the paper and hand it back he again sat back for a moment. Only long enough to finish the drink in his hand of course! Eyes moving to the window he watched the snow falling for a long moment. Perhaps even longer than he knew but eventual he was moving to stand. Slowly making his way for the door he was inwardly hoping he'd been drinking long enough and that it had been long enough since he'd fed that .. 

As the cold air blew heavily over his features he stopped for a moment. Not much at all, in fact it nearly felt nice out to him. Taking in a breath he let his eyes close for the briefest on moments, hand searching in his pocket for his pack of cigarettes.

"Sir, sir do, do you, do you think that…" the man huddled up next to the building finally caught his attention. However without even thinking Sigurd's eyes shot towards him in a bit if a glare. Perhaps it was the face tattoo and dreads. Or perhaps it was the intensity in his gaze that made the man fall silent and soon he was apologizing pretending he'd thought he was someone else.

Taking in a slow breath Sigurd glanced away again and placed the cigarette between his lips. "I don't have any more cash…." He stated bluntly. Which was true, however after taking a drag and seeming to think for a moment he moved to pocket the cigarettes and reached to unzip the front part of the leather jacket he was wearing.

See as he figured, Skade had bought this near two years ago now. He needed to buy a new one as it was and ….  This man clearly needed it more than him right? Win-win and without burning a new coat. That and no one would think to track down his coat even if they were looking for evidence. Whatever few bloodstains were in the dark fabric invisible near the collar? Well this homeless man would be a detectives last stop if he was smart enough for that. Bye, bye whatever was left of evidence.

"No, no you really don't need to do all that. Won't you get cold?" The man had begun to argue as Sigurd neared moving to hand it to him.

"I don't get cold easily…. You need it more than me. Just take it, consider it a merry Christmas" He mused with a brief smile as he spotted the man's eyes lighting up. Reaching he took the jacket within his hands which were currently wrapped in what looked like pieces of scarf.

Well, there was a moment he briefly regretted being generous to any degree as the man had nearly started crying and thanking him. However he'd finally came up with reason to leave and started off into the blizzard which was only getting heavier as the morning drew closer. Heavy enough he doubted he'd be seeing anyone on his way home, except perhaps a few cars dumb enough to be out. Plus it being Christmas…. Who was out? The homeless and drunk losers like him who had no place better to be.

-------------

Boots crunched in the soft white snow that covered the railway and his gaze had hardly left the white flurries that seemed to be dancing ahead of him. Stumbling along in a complete drunk stupor at this point, he could hardly even feel the cold air that blew across his near deathly pale features. That hunger again, twisting in his lower gut. He hasn't fed since Skade and a part of him didn't have the will power to purposely seek it out before the sun would be setting behind the thick clouds. Taking in a slow breath the cold was so harsh he swore it felt like pin pricks even in his lungs.

Suddenly pausing, his cold blue gaze lifted up from the snow long enough to zero in on the sudden smell he'd caught not far away. Vomit, methamphetamine, booze, and heavy hair spray. Another figure was stumbling across the tracks. A human, who also didn't seem to have noticed him yet. Watching for a long moment he sort of pondered his options here. Meth wasn't a good sign but, then again mixed with enough booze and…

Suddenly the human tripped and let out a bit of a cry as he'd lost his footing and…. He didn't move from where he now sat. A bit of sharper listening told him all he really needed to know as he heard the sobbing. He couldn't wait long, that gnawing in his stomach was growing. Especially with the thrumming sound of a heart beating out of control nearby. He took at least one normal step in that direction before…. He couldn't any longer. Patients had never been his strongest suit and even less so now as a fairly new made vampire. Closing the distance in a very little amount of time he only slowed right before the other.

"Rough day?..." He asked a bit casually. Mentally only waiting in hopes the dark-haired young man would look up at him long enough to try to at least charm him for a few seconds. A few seconds long enough to keep him from screaming when he attacked. Not many should be around or even able to hear but…. Best safe than sorry right? That and the more under control he had him he could also even avoid dropping a body. Possibly…. He'd only successfully done it once.

"What the!?" The male’s eyes shot up a bit nervously having not heard anyone approaching. Fingerless gloves wiping at his tear and eyeliner-streaked face.

"You will agree to everything I say" Sigurd spoke as the human’s eyes met his and for a moment especially with the other sudden eye twitching and shaking his head he thought he'd failed. Fucking tweakers! That and honestly he sucked at this. However just as quickly as he'd even thought that the other was nodding slowly in agreement. Had it worked that well? "Stand up …" he tested giving the human an instruction and much to his shock the other was soon moving to push from the ground slowly. A dazed look in his eyes as he stared at Sigurd. Was it the drugs? Was it merely the others clear mental place? He now felt like he had more questions than when he'd tried at first. However he hardly had time to think about it before he moved in fast to bite down into that perfect vein. He heard the other younger male his a bit in shock but then it was like he'd nearly lost his ability to stand as he'd begun to drink. His blood tasted, fairly thick perhaps? Whatever it was good enough he nearly contemplated not stopping. In fact he hadn't when he suddenly heard a voice shout.

"Noel! Noel, are you out here!!?"

Shit how had he not heard yet another! The voice was coming from near one of the long train box cars that was parked. Probably living out of it but that thought, Sigurd didn't consider until much later. In fact the voice had him stopping abruptly. Letting the other males body drop to the snow at his feet. The other damn near looked lifeless, shit, he'd probably die. Though considering that wasn't entirely a bad thing right? Hearing the footsteps of the other human nearing he glanced back just in time to see a male form rounding the corner. However it was dark and this one wore a jacket, and was suddenly shouting again. This time sounding panicked at what he was seeing. Ok, not good! However who'd believe tweakers right?

Like a bat out of hell he managed to bolt off the track and to the next street over. Leaving the one left alive to wonder what he'd even seen. Close call, at this point though he was partially just thankful he'd gotten a meal. His mind not once even going to the fact that Skorpa had warned him about making sure his victims were completely dead on a night of a new moon. Details right? Skade had been! He was pretty sure and even that he'd inwardly debated later….

He'd also eventually be arguing that the sky was so covered in thick clouds how could he have known! Still, this was a start to things he certainly wasn't imagining as he had continued down the street, teeth now chattering from the cold and hands under his arms. Glad he had at least worn a long sleeve as he now had enough blood flow to have him reacting to all of this in a human way. The cold that is, it stung and he couldn't have been more grateful than the moment the large abandoned looking apartment building had finally came into view ahead in the street. He was even sure he caught a whiff of his maker on the air. Morning was drawing near and it was definitely time to make it home in time to avoid the fatigue and illness one could even get if clouds blocked the sun's terrible light.

Merry Christmas, Sebastian! [SOLO]

 A very short solo that takes place on Christmas 2022. Mafiaverse AU (with no connection to One West Covina other than character names). Written February 26, 2023 and backdated. And YES, the person on the left of the banner is intended to be Sebastian, not Serena.

I initially intended to write more, but I had another idea that I had to start scribbling out in the journal so I cut it short. I might add more, but I think it's okay as-is.

As Sebastian became more accustomed to being useful to Erryk, he began to relax. He began to really settle into his relationship with Nathaniel. Nathaniel had consistently been kind and maybe even loving towards him since Sebastian and Trent had broken up. And of course, Sebastian knew he was better than George, Nathaniel’s office assistant who had an obvious crush on him.

Sebastian had considered flirting with Erryk after that night they’d spent snowed in, in Erryk’s car. He’d dismissed the idea pretty quickly, though. He’d made it abundantly clear how affected he was by his crush on Aemond. To date a member of the family’s staff so soon after declaring all that would only cheapen the meaning of his feelings. If they hadn’t taken him seriously before, they definitely wouldn’t if he made a move on Erryk. So he didn’t. He and Nate lived together, Nate wanted to take him out on dates, kiss him, sleep together and all that. Sebastian had no objections. He liked Nate. He wasn’t particularly fond of George, always hovering around Nate like a fruit fly, but George was tolerable and he was Nate’s friend, neighbour, and co-worker.

Nathaniel was good to him. He wanted to give Sebastian everything he needed, so Sebastian wasn’t too surprised to wake up a week before Christmas to a new addition to their household: A state-of-the-art, exquisite likeness of the beautiful Aemond Targaryen. The logo for Mad Tech Solutions was embossed on the droid’s charger hatch cover. Other than that, which was easily hidden by anything put on its back, it was impeccable. One lavender eye, one patched. Hair softer than silk. Skin clear and fair. The catlike shape of his lips…. The first thing Sebastian did after examining him was kiss those wonderful, charming lips. Aemondbot responded wondrously—He even feels like a real man—and Sebastian was grinning ear-to-ear when he went to the living room to thank Nathaniel.

“I didn’t buy you a robot,” Nate said, puzzled. “I don’t know where this… Aemondbot came from.”

“Strange,” Sebastian murmured. “Well… it’d be rude not to try out a gift.”

Troy/Aemond - The Experiment [WIP]

Written December 5, 2022. Fore-dated to sometime after Troy turns 18 for ...obvious reasons. Roughly transcribed from a dream.

 "Guess who?" Troy had come up behind Aemond and covered his face with both hands, then pecked his cheek and sat down beside him, taking back his hands.

"Aegon," muttered Aemond dryly. He always gave a different incorrect answer, just to keep things interesting.

"None of the above," Troy said with a grin. He took a peek at what Aemond was working on.

"Sociology," Aemond explained before Troy could ask. "I'm auditing."

"Ahh." Troy nodded and rested his chin comfortably on Aemond's shoulder. "I already finished my homework for this week, so if you want to study this together, I'm game."

"I'm good." Aemond checked his phone. "Aren't you usually at football practice right about now?"

"Mm." Troy made an unhappy noise. "I was, but one of my teammates tried to kiss me in the shower, so I ran for it."

"Hm." Aemond wasn't surprised. Troy was pretty touchy-feely with all his friends, so it was really only a matter of time before one of them made a move on him. They sat in silence for a while, then Aemond got up to get a soda.

"Hey." The teammate who'd tried to kiss Troy slid into the seat across the table. "Listen, man, I'm sorry about earlier. I didn't realize you had a boyfriend."

Troy looked at him, brow puckered in confusion. "Hey, Arthur. Actually, I don't date at all." He held up his hand so Arthur could see the purity ring.

"So, what, One-Eye isn't your boyfriend, but you still rub up against him like that?"

O... kay... that was weird. "Either way," Troy pointed out, "should you really be kissing people's mouths out of the blue like that?"

"What's the big deal? I thought you'd be into it. I mean, even if that guy was your boyfriend, you have to admit, I'm--"

"Okay, cool, so you're taking back your apology? I'll see you on the field. We're done here." It took a lot to make Troy irate, but here he was.

"--" Arthur had been about to say something when Aemond sat back down next to Troy, plopping a root beer in front of him. Troy smiled his thanks.

"Who's this?" Aemond asked.

"He was just leaving," Troy answered curtly. Aemond turned to face Troy and, with just a look between them, he knew. He pulled a knife out of his pocket and casually started cleaning his nails, making and maintaining eye contact with the man across the table. Arthur took the hint and left. Once he was gone, Troy visibly relaxed and Aemond put the knife away.

Troy took a sip of his root beer. "Can you believe Arthur thought you were my boyfriend?" he asked, trying to be lighthearted about the encounter.

"Most people do," Aemond replied. At Troy's shocked expression, he said, "When I go anywhere without you, people ask where my boyfriend is. They mean you."

Troy put his elbows on the table and his chin in his hand. "But I treat you the same way I treat all my friends," he said, bewildered.

"Some of them have crushes on you. Cygnet, for example. I would not be surprised if your teammate thought you'd led him on."

Troy frowned contemplatively. "I turn down everyone who asks me out. I'm clear about the fact that I'm not dating anyone. Why would they...?"

"Most men aren't so handsy with people they're just friends with." Aemond hadn't mentioned it before now because he'd noticed Troy was just touchy-feely with everyone, but did he really not know how people saw him? "Would you be comfortable with everyone touching you the way you touch them?"

Troy nodded. "Of course," he said. "Why wouldn't I be?"

Aemond wanted to demonstrate, but the quad was packed and he didn't want to draw unnecessary attention. "Hm." Then an idea came to him: Blaine had never reopened the church. Surely it would be deserted. He took out his phone and placed the call.

"This is Aemond. I need your help with a little experiment. Can we use the church? .... Thank you. And can you call Cygnet, and someone we don't know? .... Mm. We'll be there soon." Aemond ended the call and led Troy to his truck, and they drove to Blaine's church together.

Once inside, Aemond explained, "I want to do an experiment with you, Troy. I'll want to draw a boundary map on your body of places you feel comfortable being touched by a male friend, a female friend, an acquaintance, and a stranger. We'll start with how you normally interact with friends. When you start to get uncomfortable, tell us to stop and we'll mark the boundary with a piece of duct tape."

Troy took all this in and nodded. Cygnet clicked her pen, opened to a fresh page in her notepad, and began jotting down notes. Aemond led Troy to a simple foldaway chair and had him sit, then circled behind him. He draped his arms over Troy's shoulders, leaned in to rest his chin, and kissed Troy's cheek. Troy smiled but didn't otherwise react. Aemond brought his hands to Troy's shoulders, then ran one hand down each arm, pausing only to hold hands at the end. He moved one hand round to Troy's stomach, then up his chest, then his throat. When he lingered there, Troy looked back at him and raised his eyebrows. Aemond chuckled, Cygnet wrote something down that Blaine was whispering in her ear, and the experiment continued.

Aemond brushed his hands over Troy's ears. Troy pulled back and wrinkled his nose. "That feels funny," he protested. Blaine walked over and handed Aemond a Sharpie; Aemond marked the area just before Troy's ears. Then he took up a chair beside Troy and settled a hand on his stomach, slowly moving down. Troy grabbed Aemond's wrist before he could move below Troy's lower stomach. Blaine handed Aemond the roll of duct tape and Aemond marked a line on Troy's shirt. Aemond sat back down, ready to continue, but Troy held up a finger.

"Just give me a moment," he said softly. His heart was pounding like a hammer and he had to catch his breath. He avoided looking at the others in the room, so he couldn't see that they were politely averting their eyes.

When his breathing and heart rate returned to normal, he nodded for Aemond to continue. Aemond rested his hand on Troy's knee and slowly inched it upwards-- very slowly, in fact; he was surprised Troy didn't stop him until just before he would have touched crotch. Again, Troy asked to take a moment before continuing.

Aemond had to wonder if Troy was enjoying this experiment. His face gave nothing away, but Aemond noticed while marking off his inner thighs that Troy's body was somewhat less stoic. Still, he hadn't broken the rules. He'd stopped Aemond at the last possible second, but he had stopped him, and he took time between markings to calm down rather than make things more awkward than they needed to be.

When Troy had calmed down, Aemond asked, "I assume the inner thigh is off-limits?"

Troy considered it. "Mm, like this, yes. If I was sitting cross-legged"-- he put one ankle on the other knee-- "it would be okay up to a point."

Aemond wasn't sure he wanted to go that far, but he slowly settled his hand on the side of Troy's knee and moved up. This time Troy stopped him halfway up his thigh. That was a surprisingly normal reaction, for him. Next was the outer thigh and hip, then up his sides. No reaction. Aemond moved his hands back to Troy's knees and down his shins and calves.

"Can you take off your shoes?" Blaine asked.

Troy shook his head. "No. My feet are ticklish."

Cygnet marked that in her notes. Blaine rolled out a yoga mat and had Troy lie on his stomach. To Aemond's surprise, Troy didn't react to anything, not even Aemond's hands on his rear. Then again, Troy was a jock. Guys on some of his teams probably smacked each other's rears as a show of camaraderie. When Troy sat up, he showed he was also fine with Aemond patting his head and combing fingers through his hair.

"Hand test, male friend, concluded," Cygnet announced. "Aemond and I will switch places. We'll use a different color tape and marker to indicate my test. May I cross the lines set by the previous tape?"

Troy thought about it. "What happens if the tape overlaps?" he asked.

"Each test is marked on a different diagram," Cygnet replied, "but I can't cross the previous tape without your permission."

Troy nodded. "Okay. New boundaries. I'll let you know."

Cygnet's touch was, in a purely tactile sense, similar to Aemond's, but with much less familiarity. She conducted her part of the experiment as she did everything else: businesslike and without emotion. Troy wondered if Aemond had been mistaken about her having feelings for him. Still, his boundaries with her overlapped exactly from the previous test. The only difference was that Troy only told her verbally to stop, and this time he didn't need a cool-down period. Both these differences were noted.

"Hand test, female friend, concluded," she said when she was done. "Blaine and I will switch places for the acquaintance test."

The acquaintance test went exactly like the female friend test, as did the stranger test, conducted by a relative of Blaine's called Denise.

"Hmm," Cygnet murmured ponderously. "Troy, do you have any other male friends who'd be willing to see through the rest of this experiment?" she asked.

Troy shrugged. "You could ask some of the guys on the football team," he suggested. "Why?"

Cygnet shook her head and shrugged. "It's not a big deal, but I'd like to control for aberrations as much as possible."

"Aberrations?"

"Well...." Cygnet hesitated. "No, let's continue. If we notice any other, um, oddities--"

"What oddities?" Tory asked, thoroughly confounded as he sat up on the yoga mat.

Blaine, Cygnet, and Denise exchanged a look, then Blaine said gently, "We're wondering if maybe Aemond requires his own category."

"Well, why? He had the same markers as everyone else."

The testers minus Aemond exchanged another look, then Cygnet gave a minute head shake.

"Let's move on to the lips tests," Cygnet decided. "We'd rather not mark up your clothes too much, so--"

"Oh! No problem," said Troy, promptly removing his T-shirt, leggings, and--

"No, please keep your briefs on!" Denise exclaimed hurriedly. "We actually had a change of clothes prepared for you."

"Oh." Troy blinked. "Actually, is it okay if I just put them on after? I don't really want to walk around covered in tape?"

The four testers exchanged glances again, then nodded.

"Okay," said Cygnet, "so the lips test will go in reverse order from the hands test. I'm sure you were already doing this, but let's make it official that arousal is a parameter for stopping."

The next part (in orange) was snipped after I decided Troy needed to be 18 for this. There will be another break when returning.

"Is there an NDA in place?" Troy asked, almost before she'd finished speaking. "It's just, I'm 17 and you guys have been approaching illegal territory."

"You're bringing that up now?" Denise asked, looking horrified. "Why didn't you say something earlier?"

"Shouldn't we have parental consent?" Blaine muttered, with unknown values of sarcasm. 

Troy laughed. "Good luck with that," he remarked. "Can you imagine how my parents would react if they learned Aemond Targaryen was involved in a scientific experiment requiring him to put his hands and lips on me? Baba would have a heart attack if we were lucky."

Aemond, who'd been observing silently, frowned and looked away uncomfortably.

"Yes," said Cygnet, "that's another reason I thought we should find an alternate male friend to test you. If your family found out--"

"Wait. You considered that as a possibility and didn't tell us?" Blaine asked, clearly annoyed.

Cygnet frowned right back at him. "I thought it was obvious enough to go without saying."

"I'd say we all have pretty good incentive not to speak a word of this to anyone," Denise put in.

"Indeed, and that would preclude finding another tester," Aemond said quietly, eye still averted.

We now return you to your regular self-indulgent cringe.

Denise looked round at everyone. "Can I suggest something?" she asked. Without waiting for an answer, she continued, "What if the rest of us who aren't testing at the moment leave the room and allow the testers to make their own notes?"

Cygnet shook her head. "I don't believe in the honor system, especially when an experiment has the potential to turn intimate." She blushed slightly at that thought.

"I think that should be up to the subject," Denise countered.

"That's convenient, as you're up first. What happens if he says to stop, or signals it nonverbally, and is ignored?"

Denise glared at Cygnet. "I don't think I like the accusation."

"It's a supposition, not an accusation."

"You know these rooms aren't soundproof, right?" Blaine asked.

"Um-- I'm okay with having an illusion of privacy," Troy said, "but can I borrow... hm, I want a book." At the confused expressions of the others, he explained, "Well, if someone's kissing me, it'd be while I was doing something else, not just sitting and chatting like with regular, um, hand touches."

That didn't make a whole lot of sense, but after a quick discussion it was agreed that Troy could have a book.

"Any book in particular?" Cygnet asked.

"Yeah, an illustrated textbook on diseases of the human body. I'm considering bio next semester and I'd like to get a head start."

"Nerrrd," Denise intoned.

"I'm pretty sure Désmoda has that textbook. I'll go get it," Cygnet volunteered.

When she'd left, Troy went over to Aemond and gently touched his shoulder. "You good?" he asked.

Aemond gave a brief nod. "I'll be pleased when it's all over and we can start mapping each other," he said, "instead of just you."

Troy nodded. He was both looking forward to, and not looking forward to, mapping Aemond.

When Cygnet returned with the book, Denise was only too eager to get started. Everyone else cleared the room so she and her clipboard could have Troy all to herself. Troy lay on his side, head propped up on one elbow, and opened the textbook, reading from the first chapter. Denise kissed up, down, and around his entire body. He only asked her to stop at his ears, his lips, his bum, and his privates. She looked disappointed, but tried to hide it as she made her notes, left, and sent Blaine in. With Blaine, Troy also asked him to stop at his inner thigh, just past the knee. He flinched slightly when Blaine approached his genitals, a reaction he hadn't had with Denise. With Cygnet, he was apparently comfortable enough to have zero boundaries other than lips. When she'd made her notes and was turning to leave, Troy asked to use the bathroom before Aemond's test.

"Remember to wash your hands," Blaine replied as he pointed the way.

Troy returned half an hour later, having clearly washed more than just his hands. He let his damp wavy blond hair fall out of the grey towel on his head, bending down and shaking it out. 

"I hope it's okay that I used your shower," he said to Blaine.

"It is, but you forgot to put your briefs back on," Blaine pointed out. Troy half-shrugged and went to lay on the mat, flipping ahead to some diagrams, which featured the most gruesome diseases and their effects on the human body. He chanted their names in a quiet mantra as Aemond began his work.

Denise's kisses had been eager. Blaine's and Cygnet's had been businesslike and clinical. Aemond's were... different. Yes, he was only doing this as part of an experiment, to prove a point about Troy's boundaries vs. everyone else's, but they were still rather close friends and Aemond's touch had a familiarity that the others' did not. His presence was comforting, and Troy felt relaxed with him.

Unlike the others, Aemond introduced little licks and bites into his kisses, seeing if or when Troy would stop him or react. Troy didn't, at least, not until Aemond reached his lips, which he'd saved for last. Before their lips could touch, Troy pressed a hand to Aemond's chest and gently pushed him away.

"No lips?" Aemond whispered.

"No lips," Troy whispered back.

"But everywhere else?"

"Did I stop you anywhere else?"

Aemond chuckled. "I'm surprised you didn't," he said. Troy smiled wryly at him and went back to reading.

"Okay," Cygnet announced, as the rest of them filed in. "Thank you, Troy. Since we don't want to be here all week, we've decided the rest of the experiment will just be us deciding our boundaries with you."

Troy nodded. "So, just the one marker for all of you?"

"Tape," Cygnet corrected. "We're not all nudists."

I did dream up the rest of this, but I never got round to transcribing it. I'll probably finish this later.