Beware: The Chibis Have Taken Control!

OMFG. How do you always manage to get me to write you 2000 worders when I do this thing? O_o;;; Seriously, dude. I hope it all fits in this comment. -.-;;; Enjoy?

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"I know who you are..."

Hal froze in the act of turning, those words, that voice, stopping him dead in his tracks. He'd know that voice anywhere -- the soft Irish brogue, still strong after centuries away from the motherland, the purr underneath the innocent syllables, teasing and hinting at dark thoughts, dark desires, dark needs. That voice stirred things inside of him, instincts he'd thought long dead and buried... 55 years dead and buried. And somehow, Hal just knew that if he completed that turn, if he met those storm blue eyes and the heat that he knew would be in them... he would be lost.

Still, he couldn't resist. He never could. Not this one. Never this one. Painting a firm scowl on his face before he even turned, Hal spat those words of denial, words the other would know were false the second they dripped from his lips. They would break upon the ground, shattered lies like so many others he had told in his long life... and just as futile. The moment he turned, the moment their eyes met, that heat surged up to engulf him, just as he'd known it would. He found himself straightening, pulling himself up to his full height, felt his head tilt upwards and his eyes tilt down, slanting his gaze down his nose at the one standing before him... a prince preparing to accept the fealty of one on his knees.

And Fergus did not disappoint. He stalked forwards, drawn in by the disdain in Hal's eyes -- disdain for Fergus or for himself, even Hal couldn't have said -- and the promise of swift retribution for even the slightest step out of line. Hal could feel the need rising inside him as Fergus stalked towards him -- back stooped low, gaze not quite rising to meet his, not quite daring to look away -- the need to bury his hands in that short-cropped hair, yank his head backwards and reassert his dominance. Worse, he knew Fergus could feel it, too. Hal could feel him testing the boundaries of that need, trying to guage how much Hal had changed in those 55 years years, trying to guage what advances might be welcome, which might be ruthlessly brushed aside.

He was good at this game, Fergus was. He always had been. That was why, through all the years, all the changes, all the ups and the downs, Fergus was the only one who'd managed to stay by his side -- his faithful servant, an extension of his right hand... his.