Fists and Fangs | bxb

43. The date

When Alarion said 'dinner,' Avyugh didn't expect himself to be the cook, but that's what he was doing--the job of a cook as he grumbled and threw extra spice inside the vegetable stew he was making.

"Is it ready yet?" Alarion yelled from the living room of his condo.

"God, no! For the tenth fucking time, no!" Avyugh yelled back.

The vampire had purchased a condo on the outskirts of the kingdom, in a small village called Owarami a year ago. He moved in and only went to the palace on days he didn't feel like operating any technology to cook. He was old fashioned sometimes.

Alarion appeared at the doorway of the kitchen, leaning on it with crossed arms, studying his mate with such mischievous eyes.

"I'm hungry," he said, staring at his mate.

"Here, drink some wine," Avyugh set aside a glass of wine that was on the kitchen island and continued to stir the stew.

What he thought was wine, was blood.

Alarion slowly walked over and sipped from the glass, his eyes trained on his mate.

Avyugh glanced up at the vampire with a glare. "Leave," he uttered.

"Why? I haven't done anything," Alarion reasoned.

"No, but your staring makes me so stressed out."

Alarion smirked, coming to stand beside his mate.

"Why? Do I make you nervous?"

Avyugh snorted. "That is so not what I said."

"But that's what I heard."

Avyugh turned to the vampire with narrowed eyes and crossed his arms against his chest, watching Alarion drink from the glass.

Alarion's eyes raked all over his mate, memorizing each and everything about him--the curve of his eyebrows, shape of his lips, the dip of his hips, his curls. He couldn't believe that he had his mate with him. Again. He was going to wait longer, but his mate had come to him this time, and he was not about to let that opportunity go to waste.

Avyugh felt flustered under the searing stare of Alarion, and blood rose to his cheeks and ears.

Alarion noticed.

"What are you making?" He asking, inching closer.

"U-uh, it's um, string hopper with vegetable stew," he mumbled, hastily stirring the stew and added some carrots to it.

Alarion wanted to pull his mate closed and tell him everything and kiss him and hold him, but it took everything in him to hold himself back from doing anything reckless and resorted to just watching his mate. He would stay put. He must stay put. For now.

"You're not wearing your glasses anymore," he said. His voice deep, yet quiet.

Avyugh nodded. "Yeah, I looked like such a dork with it on."

"No you didn't." Alarion was quick to deny. "I think you look cu--" he cleared his throat. "Good. I think you looked good."

Avyugh shrugged with a light blush and tried to play it cool. "Thank I guess."

Avyugh wanted to ask Alarion many things. He wanted to ask about the fangs that sprouted from his brother's mouth, he wanted to know how Alarion knew about it. He just felt out of the loop and he just wanted to know.

"You're frowning," Alarion stated.

Avyugh nodded absentmindedly. "I tend to do that a lot when I'm stressed."