Daydreaming

Gabriel sat in front of the mirror brushing his hair, fingers sweeping through the blond, curly locks as he went. Sometimes it seemed like a chore, but today, he rather enjoyed it. The daily task of brushing his hair gave him time to relax and think for a bit, and he liked having the opportunity to daydream.

He was thinking of Jean, actually. Well, that wasn't much of a surprise. He barely thought of anything else now. But he was wondering if there was a way to make feeding easier for Jean. He had tried encouraging him to feed during sex in the hope that it would make it more intimate and more pleasurable, but Jean didn't seem to like that. Perhaps he should just try being more gentle.

Part of him thought it might be easier for Jean if he fed from blood bags, so he didn't have to hurt anyone, but, perhaps selfishly, he wanted to continue feeding his fledgling. There was something very tender about it. Somehow, it seemed to reaffirm the bond they shared. That wasn't something he wanted to give up.

The fledgeling smiled to himself, padding up the hallway with Cleo in his arms.

The cat had been out exploring the mansion grounds a lot; he had barely seen her. He missed the fluffball a lot.

He bowed his head to nuzzle his nose against the cat's as he walked into his room. Cleo returned the gesture, bumping her nose against her owners.

"Salut, cheri."

He glanced over his shoulder, flashing a smile at his lover before turning back to the mirror to continue brushing his hair. "What's with the cat? I thought I was the only object of your affections?"

He stuck his tongue out at him in the mirror teasingly.

He smiled at his lover. "Evening, Gabe."

The smile quickly morphed into a grin. "I'm cheating on you with her. Gabe, meet your rival in love, Cleo."

The cat gave Gabe a yellow eyed glare. She knew what he was doing with her master and she was determined to put a stop to it. Jean-Claude was hers; no stupid vampire was going to take him away from her.

"I've had her since I was nineteen." The little kitten had crawled up to him and curled in his jacket when he had been living on the streets. They had connected instantly and rarely left each other side.

He eyed the angry glare in mild alarm. Generally he got on very well with cats... but apparently not this one.

"Ah... does she normally glare like that?"

He chuckled softly and nuzzled closer to the cat.

"She doesn't like people that like me as a rule." She was scarily possessive. Sometimes it was amusing and sometimes it could get annoying.

He set the cat down on his bed and padded towards his boyfriend, sitting in his lap, arms sliding around his neck. He smiled softly, kissing the man gently. "But who cares if she doesn't like you as long as I do, right?"

He kissed him back with a contented sigh, arms winding around the man's waist. A smile flit across his lips as they broke apart, and a hand brushed a hair from his lover's face tenderly.

"Yeah."

A thought struck him and he frowned a little.

"Just so long as she doesn't rip my face off."

His fingers began to comb through Gabe's hair idly.

The fledgeling's shoulders shook with a laugh. "I can't make any promises. She can be a little violent at times."

'A little' was a fair bit off the mark. He still had scars from when he had had to drag her off someone she had attacked years ago. The cat was very violent.

Cleo jumped off the bed and padded towards the two of them curled together on the chair. Cute approach first. Beg for attention and split the two of them up. That usually worked.

She bat at Gabe's ankle a little to get his attention then gave a quiet mewl, looking up at him with wide, innocent yellow eyes.

Gabriel purred quietly as Jean's fingers ran through his hair, leaning back into the touch.

"She's going to rip my eyeballs out, isn't she?"

He eyed the cat suspiciously as it approached him, but, deciding that he should welcome any pet of Jean's, whether that be a violent cat or a great white shark, leaned down to pick her up.

"Nah, she doesn't usually go for the face."

His lips twitched into a grin. "I'd be careful about letting her near your arms when she's got a cob on, though." A fair few light scars littered his arms.

Cleo meowed again, nuzzling against Gabe when he picked her up.

She was the picture of adorable cat.

He continued to eye her in suspicion. Normally the ones that went overboard on niceness were usually the ones that turned out to be the most evil. He had a feeling that this also applied to Cleo.

Despite Jean telling him that she didn't go for the face, he held her a little way away from his body. He like his nose where it was, thank you very much.

"I don't trust her." he decided out loud.

"A lot of people don't," he chuckled softly.

The man scratched behind Cleo's ear and the cat leaned into her master's touch with a loud purr.

Good, she was pulling Jean's attention away from Gabe. That's exactly what she wanted.

"She seemed like a schemer."

He glared down at the cat, slightly irritated that she had interrupted his time with Jean. He leant forward to kiss the side of Jean's neck, tenderly and innocently, his hand continuing to stroke the soft fur in the hope that Cleo would eventually go away.

His lips quirked upwards. Yes, she was a schemer, well and true.

Her schemes were surprisingly elaborate for an animal. It never ceased to amaze and amuse him.

A low growl rumbled in the cat's throat as the older vampire kissed Jean's neck. She was not impressed. Jean was hers; no one else was allowed to touch him.

He leaned up to brush his lips against Jean's tenderly, stroking a hand through his hair. His other hand gave the cat on his lap a gentle nudge in the hope that it would get her to move. Hopefully. If things went according to plan.

More likely, he would get his hand ripped clean off.

Jean leaned into the kiss eagerly, lips parting to allow the man to explore deeper.

The quiet growling coming from the cat increased in volume.

Cleo hissed loudly and sank both her claws and teeth into Gabe's arm, tearing into his skin viciously. No one, bar no one, go away with pushing her.

He pressed closer, tongue darting along the man's lower lip. And let out a sharp yelp into the man's mouth, jerking his hand away. He pulled away with a whine, rubbing his arm.

"Owww."

That had hurt. Stupid demon cat.

"Cleo!" Jean-Claude scolded, pulling away from Gabe and standing up.

He scooped the angry furball up and padded to the door. He set her down outside and closed the door on her.

The fledgeling darted back to his sire and took his hand gently. "Let me see," he murmured softly.

Gabriel had a feeling that Jean chucking her out would only make Cleo hate him more, but it was a relief to have that thing away from his arm.

He allowed Jean to take his hand, holding it out gingerly.

"It's fine, it's just a few scratches."

Who was he kidding? That stung like a bitch.

He lifted the bleeding hand to his lips and let his tongue lave over a bleeding cut.

A soft moan sounded in the back of his throat as the blood licked at his tastebuds. He could stomach his sire blood, unlike most blood he tried to drink. He liked the taste and he could drink it without throwing it back up.

His tongue continued to run over the man's small cuts until his arm was clean and no more blood oozed out.

"Better?"

He blinked with a faint gulp. Jean was drinking? Kind of, anyway.

Well, what do you know, there might be some benefits to that demon arriving after all. Perhaps he'd chase after Cleo once every couple of days.

"Thank you."

He lifted his arm to pretend to inspect it, a nail quickly slicing the cut deeper.

"I think you missed a bit."

His tongue passed over his lips as his gaze caught the blood.

"...I don't want it," he murmured.

But he reached for his sire's arm anyway, pulling it close so he could run his tongue over the bleeding cut.

Another breathy moan sounded.

His stomach leaped as a tongue swiped over his cut, pressing a soft kiss to his lover's forehead. A shiver ran down his spine at the breathy moan, but he ignored it, deciding that this probably wasn't the time. He was just happy that Jean was feeding.

His tongue ran over the cut a couple of times before his lips closed around it, sucking softly.

Jean-Claude purred loudly as the blood ran down his throat.

It had been too long since he had fed properly.

His free hand ran through the brunet locks, a tongue darting out over his lips, eyes sliding shut in contentment. Slowly, Jean seemed to be getting better. It had taken a lot of patience, but it seemed like he was slowly adjusting. A month or so ago, Jean wouldn't have even thought of taking blood without being made to.