Chapter Text
It’s not often that someone catches your eye, especially during a mission. He was gorgeous. Taller than you, which was rare, with broad shoulders and rippling biceps that protruded through his light gi stretching it so thin that it left very little to the imagination. You look on with amusement as your fellow agents engage in a conversation with your target. ‘Don’t kill, just make him lose’, you mused. You don’t frequently participate in missions with no combat objective, this being one of the first, and so you are content to let others take the lead.
And for now, you can enjoy occasional glimpses of the man who held your full attention. All those years of living a life of atonement never prepared you for an encounter with someone so pretty.
The corners of your lips curl into a small closed smile as you take in his robust features. The curly long hair tied up into a ponytail that looked silky enough for you to run your fingers through, the strong jawline that slightly jutted out as he talked, the movement of his throat as he breathed, the blood in his veins as he lived. Licking your lips, you selfishly wondered if you would ever be able to taste it.
You are broken from your thoughts by the clearing of someone’s throat. It’s the makeup artist who you had been engaging in a conversation with before you got distracted. She gives you a knowing look before resuming the application of foundation onto one of the contestants. Dabbling a brush into the powder, “Was that all?” She asks, her fingers lightly dusting off the excess.
If blood flowed through your veins in the same way as your object of appreciation you would be sporting a bashful shade of pink. You cough quietly, “Yes, thank you for the explanation. I’ll leave you to your work.”
“Anytime,” She answers airily, and she stops for a moment. Setting her full gaze onto you, and there it is. The quick up and down of the eyes, the rapidness of the heart, and the slight catching of breath. You know that look well, how could you not? But the knowledge has never left you without the embarrassment and you ignored the prickling sensation as she watches you leave.
You breathe in and then out, and while the practice is impractical for your kind, you enjoy the habit of feeling human. A quick survey of your surroundings finds your companions missing. Wolfgang has disappeared into one of the many rooms on set, Basalt heading in the direction of the cast food court, and Vadim midst conversation with Marau Tora, the final boss of the game show, and the man whose presence refused to leave your thoughts.
Deciding against interrupting their exchange, you follow in the direction of the Lithomancer. Having to pass by them, you take one more glance at Marau and find yourself surprised when his white clouded gaze is looking back. His expression is impassive but in his eyes is a splash of emotion, something that you in that moment could not read.
When you meet Marau Tora again it is after his breathtaking performance. Your fellow agents had left or pinged out but you couldn’t hold back the burning curiosity that was ignited by the look he gave you.
While the room was not empty by any means the crew and producers had the mind to give the fighter his space. At his feet lay blood-soaked bandages, and a first aid kit. In his hands was a water bottle, the liquid flowing into his mouth before disappearing with a gulp in his throat.
He wipes the sweat from his brow, his hand lightly brushing past the bright red bruise on his cheek and the action momentarily leaves you hypnotized. You don’t notice his now clear gray eyes on you before it is too late and you realize that you missed an important piece of the conversation. Tilting your head, “I’m sorry, can you repeat that?” A hint of amusement sprinkles his face.
“Ah, one of my saviors,” He greets you, “And one of my fans I see.” His voice rumbles, sending a tidal wave of butterflies to your stomach. And you slightly turn your head at his remark. Embarrassed, you look down at the light blue t-shirt with a dark wavy texture, and the signature of the man standing before you outlined above your chest. Coughing, you remember the abilities of the particular Thane agent, Vadim, and the equipment he bestowed on the crowd during the fight.
“Yes, I’ll admit, your performance was captivating,” You pause, afraid and more than a little hesitant but willing to accept the consequences should your praise be rebuffed, “You were captivating.” You avoided his gaze as he processed your statement.
And Marau gives a deep laugh, his tone kind. Not as if he were laughing at you but in an action of what seemed to be relief. “Thank you, it is deeply appreciated, especially coming from you.” He approaches you then, placing his drink down with a flick of his wrist as water materializes from the elements in the air. His massive frame blocks you from any curious onlookers as he leans in close and whispers, “I can show you more of my performance in private, and you can show me how much of a fan you’ve become.”
Your green eyes grow wide then as you catch that husky tone and that look, the same one from before, the one you couldn’t read but now recognize as similar to the makeup artist. A gaze of desire, and something more than need.
“I would like that.”
You are in bed with Marau Tora, and the events of the night before still leave you wanting more from the beautiful creature that fulfilled your every hunger. He is sleeping now, and you observe the mortal that somehow managed to seduce you. Tracing your hands over his cheek, you linger on the bruise now purplish, and graze your fingers across the new ones that you had left behind.
He stirs slightly, his eyelashes fluttering open and the look of adoration tug at your dead heart, if it could skip a beat, it would. “Good morning,” He murmurs before pulling you tighter into his embrace and you appreciate the endless warmth that his body excludes.
“Good morning,” You sigh, almost purring in approval.
You open your lips, before closing them around his, your fangs lightly brushing against his tongue. When you both pull away it is you that breaks the silence. “Can I see you again?”
Marau’s face lights up, a cascade of emotion filling his expression. “Anything for my biggest fan.”
He leaves you with a number to call, and you leave him with the promise to return. You take a note to thank Vadim for making this possible.