Closed RP Haemorrhaging

This RP is currently closed.

Ethan sighed and nodded. He could feel how frantic her energy levels were, buzzing against her skin. Hazel was scared, maybe, or at least panicking beneath the confidence. He licked his lips, a quick flick of his tongue as he sat quietly, thinking. All of this would be so much easier if he just killed her. I had almost been a full week since his last meal– that he had let go once again, god damn it– and she was here, and the cameras were off.

Certainly, that would be easier.

Instead, his tired eyes looked down at the table and he shook his head. As much as it would be easier, and as much as he could feel Hematite’s and Sulphur’s eyes on him, he wouldn’t be doing that. Hazel had just been in the wrong place at the wrong time, and there was no evidence that would back her up. There was no crime scene because Cain had taken back all of the blood that had covered the floor. There was some property damage, but nothing they couldn’t fix easily. He looked up at Hazel with heavy eyes.

“I don’t want to hurt you, Hazel. I need you to understand how much danger you could put my family in if you told anyone what you saw today. It would paint huge targets on our backs. Metas aren’t exactly welcome in most places. And I care very deeply about this family. If anyone were to hurt them, I wouldn’t be as kind to you in the future. Do we have an understanding, dearie?”​
 
There was just a second where she had to wonder if she’d be fast enough to bolt. If she was willing to abandon laptop and notes, she might be able to reach the doors – but calling Isaiah would be out of the question without her phone. Her wallet was in her bag, too, and– and her keys. There was no way she was running far enough on foot.

But she could see the exhaustion in Obsidian’s eyes. He wasn’t going to want to chase her, or even attack her – even if it was just a touch. He just wanted today to be done, and confirmed that in what he said next. Based on tone alone, she kind of tuned out what exactly he said – something about his little crime group being a family, and her endangering them, as if they weren’t already elbow deep in trouble like –

She took a four-second inhale, and then nodded a little. Right. Nobody would find out – except Isaiah. It wasn’t like she could prove anything anyway. Not yet, at least. The ability to come back and observe again was a blessing in its own right. She exhaled, three seconds, and then nodded. She didn’t trust herself enough for words.

When he made a vague gesture for her to go, he didn’t need to ask twice. She took her backpack and left without so much as a word.
 
There was a few ways to deal with a wolf pack; taking out the alpha didn't always work. Cain preferred using the alpha to lead the others astray, cloud the alpha's judgment and you weaken the pack as a whole. The idea was to put pressure on Obsidian; Cain's brief meeting with him had confirmed a few things. That he was tired, emotionally and physically, and he felt alone, isolated, and under a lot of stress. The question was just how much stress would it take to break him?

Ethan Walsh had also shown Cain something else; the monster. He saw it in his eyes when Ethan drained the life from him with his own hand; even weeks later Cain remembered the sensation. He's smile and grin to himself, more like a snarl, that was the monster he had been paid to hunt. A lowly parasite, draining on others for his strength. That was all under the skin, on the surface he was a very attractive man - no doubt he used this as part of his hunting Cain figured - charming in his own right. A prowler. A threat. Cain had underestimated him and his pack, it wouldn't happen again, but still something nagged at him as he though over and over of the moment he would be able to bring Obsidian down. And that was the look he'd given him just before Cain revealed his intentions, it flashed in his mind constantly, before Cain would angrily toss it away.

He spent the next week or two carefully targeting known fronts and operations that Slate was involved with, slowly at first, and never anything too bombastic. But slowly increasing the frequency. A robbed shipment here, a burned down building there, everything done with it being dubious who was behind it all; if even the events were linked at all. Some observant bloggers and news hogs theorized there might be a gang war either brewing or already under way. Either way it had the intended affect Cain wanted, surveillance on Obsidian returning home later and later in the evening. Looking more and more haggard each time. Cain let it sit and stew, not letting his presence known, waiting just long enough that with everything going on it was entirely possible Ethan might have forgotten all about him.

That was when he waited late at night behind the Diamond where Ethan usually parked and entered. Standing just out of sight around a corner and in the shadows. Ideally, Ethan wouldn't just out and out attack him, even in his diminished state Cain wasn't confident that would go well. The plan was to come to amicable terms - a plan that Titan made clear he thought was idiotic - but Cain was banking on Ethan's reduced judgement. If he could get on his good side, get closer to Slate, he could figure out a way to separate them and defeat them in detail.
 
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It was almost one am when Ethan pulled the Rover into the back lot and drove it up to the garage. He flipped the switch down from the roof and opened the door, driving the big car in and perfectly parking it, backward, into it’s spot between the Jaguar and the Civic. It had been a fucking day, but it seemed like every day had been a fucking day for a while now. He’d gone out and hunted that night, and while he had killed the one he had hunted right after the incident, he had fallen, in crippling pain again, as he let that one live. He felt just fine. His body was doing fine, was strong, and maybe that was the reason he had let that one, a small man with dozens of tattoos and who wore minimal clothing even in this weather, go alive. Maybe it really was just Todd’s fault.

He got out of the car and walked out of the garage. He tapped out a cigarette– Dunhill, as usual– and caught it in his teeth as he used his free hand to punch in the code by the door, locking the cars back up. He returned the carton to his pocket and pulled out his lighter, rubbing his fingers lightly over the engraved O on the side. He flicked it open and lit it, lighting up his cigarette.

Then, he paused. He took a deep breath in, catching the bud alight and returning the lighter to his pocket. He breathed in a curl of smoke and looked around the parking lot. Something felt off. He looked around, looking for signs of energy. Then, he caught it. Uneven, unflowing, blocked passages. Ethan tipped his head back and groaned. He looked down at his hand, still scabbed over thick under his glove.

“What the fuck do you want, Cain?”​
 

Cain couldn't help but giggle as he emerged dramatically from the shadows, raising his hands in mock surrender. He walked as close to Ethan as he could without seeming like a threat. He looked Ethan over with a raised eyebrow, and he liked what he saw; he was tired, frustrated, not thinking clearly. What would he do, Cain's smile became devilish, as he revelled in this hunt.

"I come in peace," Cain said. "Honest, on my pa's grave, I ain't here to harm you, in fact I feel terrible about that whole incident. I realize my deal I offered wasn't fair, and I'm not here to offer another; I respect you've got people to protect and shit to take care of, and here I come waltzing in trying to mess it all up. That can't be good for the heart, so why don't you and I come to an amends, huh? Between professionals, one less thing on your shoulders, and something tells me... you've got a lot on your shoulders huh?"

Slowly, after every other word, Cain would take a step closer to Ethan. Closing the distance inch by inch. His voice was soft, his words drawled out like sweet honey. He came across as relaxed and genuine. Slowly he approached, but really, he was pulling Ethan in with every step he took unchallenged. Like a patient fisherman with the catch of a lifetime on his hook.
 
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Ethan sighed as the man spoke, and he felt himself subconsciously reaching for his gloves, as though to take them off and deal with this right now. But that hadn’t worked last time and was unlikely to work this time. He shook his gloved hands out and shook his head. “What exactly are you proposing, Cain? I’m busy and don’t have time to play games right now.”

He looked back at the man, watching his approach with stiff shoulders and narrowed eyes. He didn’t trust this. And he trusted Cain even less. He knew some things now, and those things weren’t promising. He knew about the Saturn group, and he knew what Cain was allegedly hired to do. Hell, what Cain had told him he was there to do. And no matter how attractive and charming the guy was, Ethan wasn’t about to roll over on anyone. No matter what this bastard did.​
 
He still hadn't stopped him, he looked apprehensive, and wary. But Ethan hadn't stopped Cain's approach, he smiled softly, and he spoke with words laced with milk and honey.

"Well, proposing ain't what I'm doing, offerings more like it... I respect you, and I think we could find common ground, I mean trying to kill one another don't get us anywhere, so why don't we... get to know each other." Cain surprised himself with how sultry his voice was becoming, he hadn't intended to flirt again, thinking it would only make Ethan angry. It was just far too tempting, looking into his tired - very pretty - eyes. Cain licked his lips as he stepped right into Ethan's personal space, hopefully he would take that slip up in stride and then... and then what? Cain considered his plan here, he could kill him right here, there was little stopping him, no he wanted to undermine Slate's cohesion and find out where all their metas were hiding; as well as the wolfhound. That's why he was here, he reminded himself, yet this idea began to fade away to the back of his mind as he stood so close to Ethan their breaths alnost mingled.
 

There was a hair’s breadth between them, and Ethan found himself back where he had been before the fight last week. With his eyes languidly moving over Cain’s face and shoulders before resting on his lips. He hated that this was affecting him like this. Ethan prided himself on his willpower, on his emotional strength. He had built walls that only the Pack ever saw behind. Well, the Pack, and Todd. And this, this was pulling on his heartstrings, leaving something sharp in its wake.

He wanted to take a step back. He wanted to put space between the two of them. He wanted to tell Cain to go fuck himself and then go inside, and pretend like the man had never existed. But Ethan was tired. His heart was tired. He’d been through so much, and so much of it had been his own fucking fault. He was tired of it all. So as Cain made his “offer”, Ethan sighed, shakily, and then found himself whispering in response, “And tell me, Cain… in what way do you want to get to know me?”

He leaned in toward the other man, his head tilting to the side, his curls tumbling over. His golden eyes were softening at the edges and held a kind of sadness that he couldn’t explain. Was it that he knew he was being taken advantage of? Maybe. Maybe. It didn’t stop him from taking a step forward, so they were almost chest to chest.

Ethan would not make the first move. Not again. Never again. He couldn’t bring himself to drag anyone else down to his hell with him. Even if they were smug bastards with eyes like drying blood and stupid mustaches. But if Cain wanted to crawl down into the open gates of his own volition, if he wanted to risk his life at Ethan’s touch–

He waited, his eyes falling half closed as he looked into Cain’s eyes.​
 
It took a lot out of Cain not to show his surprise, he expected Ethan to shout, get angry, at least a little annoyed at his slip up flirtatious comment. No, he leaned into it, leaned towards him; they had sped past Cain's goal at a budging acquaintance to something far more intimate and delicious. But there was no mistaking the look in those eyes.

Those eyes, orange and fiery like the sun at dawn, Obsidian's eyes, the monster he was hired to hunt; the monster he and to kill. He'd read the file, been filled with disgust and rage at the descriptions of his victims. This man was a parasite, a monster, a feasting grub at the bottom dredges of civilization. Cain hated everything he was, everything he represented, yet as he met his gaze a curious stirring in his chest could not be ignored. He reached up and plucked the cigarette right from Ethan's mouth, a devilish grin spreading on his face as he put the smoke to his own mouth and took a delicate drag.

"Let's find out," and in fluid quick motions Cain flicked the cigarette before his hands came up and trapped Ethan's face between them like a vice, grabbing handfuls of his hair as he pulled him in for a deep and hungry kiss that left no argument for what he wanted. Cain pushed into him, sending them roughly against the door.
 

The moment that Cain’s hands tangled in Ethan’s hair, he returned the favor and buried a hand in the man’s blonde, slicked hair. His other hand grabbed Cain’s collar and pulled on it, pulling him closer. He felt and tasted Cain’s lips on his and flicked his tongue over them. The taste of his cigarette mixed with Cain’s natural taste. Iron, like blood, and the strangest sweetness that Ethan hadn’t been expecting.

He started to undo the buttons on Cain’s vest, pushing it open so his hands could trace the other man’s muscles. Defined and strong. Fuck, that did things to Ethan. The idea of strong arms holding him again, the idea of a strength he didn’t truly possess supporting him, was so appealing to his tired heart. It cracked through his defenses and let itself into his vulnerable center.

He pulled back, breaking the kiss with a silent gasp. He breathed in Cain’s scent and trapped it in his lungs as his hand searched behind him for the door handle, keys twisting to fit in the lock. He didn’t even remember pulling his keys out. But they fit into the lock easily. He thought for just a moment and remembered that the Civic was parked in the garage. So Rhody and Hematite were home. But their room was on the second floor, and Ethan’s was on the third. There shouldn’t be any issue with sneaking Cain in and the couple wouldn’t hear them through a floor and being on opposite sides of the house.

He got the door open, and he pulled back just enough to look Cain in the eyes. And then, in a voice rough and thick with emotions he didn’t want to address, Ethan whispered, “One night. Then you fucking leave.”

He grabbed the front of his collar and pulled him into the house with him, closing the door behind them.​
 
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