Chapter 3 - Care
1047 Words
Chapter 3
Soon enough Ezekiel stood outside of Brandon's bed room.
Erin and Drin had helped him settle Brandon up in his bed, the man frail, limp and bloody.
As much as Ezekiel wanted to help he was too injured to move much once all the adrenaline fled from his body and he was left aching deep into his spine and hips.
So Erin had cleaned Brandons deeply damaged face of all the dirt and blood, changed his dirty and bloody clothes, then leaving Ezekiel to further care for Brandon his cousins had quickly left....possibly to join everyone else in the meeting room below. With Jacob.
The fact that the Lion was in their home....sent little hives of aggressive bees deep into Ezekiel's mind that he tried to ignore, but couldn't quite fight. Being in the room with Brandon when all he wanted to do was hiss and snarl soon made him realize that he had to go out into the hall.
Ezekiels hissing and brooding energy seemed to disturb Brandon. He tossed and turned, and pulled at the sheets. So forcing himself to walk out of the room. Ezekiel had then taken a seat against the wall. The act of movement was still a tremendous chore and Ezekiel knew that he had to go to his own room and rest...but he couldn't fathom pulling himself away to do just that. And yet He was beyond exhausted. Ezekiel felt stretched too thin. His mind swirled with unresolved conflicts and questions that felt broad enough to swallow even a trained Guardian such as himself into dejected confusion.
The Ghouls?
The Alchemists?
Brandon's secrets?
Jacob?
Still Ezekiel knew that he cared about Brandon too much and he knew that whatever was revealed in the next few hours or days....None of it wouldn't be enough to push him away from Brandon's side.
Clan Heir to the Alchemists?
Sacred Law?
Nora and Hovel?
And still everything was piled on top of everything else. The secrets and truths like a wall between Ezekiel and Brandon. Something that lashed against Ezekiels patience....and emotions until he felt weighted down.
He felt the insane need to just take Brandon away....or start over again. But there was no way to start over. Everything was a jumbled mess now. Every lie, every truth, every emotion. But luckily Ezekiel's mind didn't want to focus on these things.
Because his heart and his inner beast were too busy driving him mad with urges and needs.
Every touch....every second, every glimpse, was becoming more vital than the one before. Simply having a door between him and Brandon so that Ezekiels could think away from the peppered scent of his blood and flesh was an irritant to Ezekiel's senses.
He had to see him. He had to smell him......God, he wanted to taste Brandon once more.
With these thoughts chasing themselves in nots across his soul Ezekiel forced himself to find his tired feet. The horrifically agonizing crinkle of his swollen and healing spine was enough to make Ezekiel hold down a shout as he unwound the sensitive and regrown nerves in his vertebrae after two hours of sitting on the floor.
With a small exhale Ezekiel opened his eyes, waited on his bleary gaze to settle on the door, then with pained steps he walked into Brandon's room, closing the door behind himself. Brandon was where Ezekiel had left him, fretting in the sheets on the left side of the bed.
His soft slightly pale lips were parted on broken nonsensical mummers. His eyes were squeezed and his gloved hands were twitching on top of the sheets.
He was wearing a simple pair of black drawstring pants, no socks and a white t-Shirt and his hair was tussled and fluffed about his head from his movements.
Of course....the first thing to hit him and blow his senses wide open was the smell of Brandon's essence on the air. Like spices and copper and warm awareness. A part of him flared up in protective anger at the smell of spilled blood.
Blood that was coming from the terrible injury that Jacob had inflicted. Claw marks that marred the side of Brandon's face still. The sight of them was enough to make him want to turn Reaver and tear apart the room.
But because he knew there was no danger Ezekiels body responded to that scent by not only becoming hyper aware, but his pain lessened and his c**k jumped and swelled slightly just at the smell.
Ezekiel didn't remember taking Brandon's blood but something deep inside of him did remember....and it was screaming at him....to do it again. Taking a shaky breath Ezekiel shook off the desire with marginal effort, before the second thing hit him in the gut. It was simply the urge to be closer. To touch him. To calm Brandon's distress as he tossed on the bed.
With a damn near growl of desperation Ezekiel made his way over to Brandon's side....and with out any real hesitation or thought process, he slowly and painfully climbed onto the bed behind Brandon.
Ezekiel felt an undeniable pull, a lock twisting into place. Something shackling him to Brandon's side....
Something making it impossible to see the lies and the deceit that still remained to be sorted out.
Something that nearly had him, peeling off Brandon's clothes in that moment, just so he could drive him from his troubled sleep with his tongue and his touch.....only to send Brandon back down into his dreams with moans on his lips....and Ezekiel buried inside of him.
With a small, but intense shudder of need Ezekiel shook off the salacious thoughts they were not only misplaced but thinking this was wasn't helping to settle his body. He drew Brandon's warm body closer and swallowed a sigh of pleasure, relief and joy at having not lost the man overriding his self-control.
But Ezekiel didn't act on the strong urge he felt to claim the mortal, instead he wrapped his hands around his stomach and pulled him into his embrace, Brandon's back to his chest.
That act....that one simple act quenched every run around thought. Every endless question. And burning need. To hold Brandon and know that he was going to be okay as long as they were safe and healing together. It was better than having a peace of mind.
Before long sleep ripped him down and away from the nirvana of Brandon's heart beat against his chest.
- Writer
