Title: Playing with Fire
Fandom: Trinity Blood
Pairing(s): Isaak x Dietrich, Dietrich x Radu
Synopsis: He simply loves to play with fire, and enjoys it more when he gets burnt.
The puppet moved of its own accord, it's wooden limbs trapped in the strings held in a certain puppetmaster's hands. A sigh escaped his lips. "You're late." The marionette clattered soundlessly to the ground as the puppetmaster rose to his feet, hazel eyes gazing down at the blue-haired methuselah standing on the steps.
Flamberg glared up at Dietrich, at the Terran standing so nonchalantly on the steps. "I was delayed." Boots clicked against concrete as the methuselah walked up to be on an equal footing as the Terran puppetmaster. Dietrich smirked slightly.
"There's always an excuse, isn't there?" His slender fingers held out a disk to the methuselah. "Your next assignment. Don't screw up, okay?" Lips curled into a smirk. Radu heard a growl leave his throat. It was all he could do to not to wrap his hand around Dietrich's all too fragile neck and snap it. The look on the boy's face told him everything, he loved antagonizing the methuselah like this, in fact, he was enjoying it at the moment, knowing that Flamberg couldn't do anything to him because of the difference in rank.
Radu bit his lip, his fangs accidentally slicing the skin. Blood welled out, coating the methuselah's lower lip a bright crimson. Radu was about to lick his lips, clear away the blood, when he felt warm fingers against cold skin. His eyes shifted their gaze, watching Dietrich warily. Dietrich merely smiled, collecting the blood on his finger. The glove that once covered his fingers was now clutched in his other hand.
Radu's voice was a low growl, menace in it barely masked. "Damn you arrogant Terrans..."
The smirk on Dietrich's face only widened. The finger trailed down Radu's cheek, leaving a smear of blood on pale skin. All of a sudden, Dietrich found himself shoved against a pillar, Radu's weight pinning him down, hand at his throat, nails digging into his skin hard enough to draw blood. Fingers easily undid Dietrich's tie, loosening his collar, and lips barely concealing ivory fangs brushed over Dietrich's throat.
A chill went down Dietrich's spine. It was one thing to taunt a methuselah, and another to get bitten by one.
"Afraid, Terran?" Hands caught hold of his wrists, pinning them against the rough stone. Razor sharp fangs nicked skin, barely drawing blood. "You should be. Because you Terrans are nothing but food for us..."
Dietrich knew that as long as Radu had his wrists bound, he couldn't do anything. And there wasn't a point struggling, it was a lost battle, without his strings, Dietrich was, as Radu had put it, a mere Terran. Food for the methuselah. Fangs shifted in closer to his now exposed neck, teasing but not puncturing the skin. Dietrich's gloved hand curled into a fist. "If you're going to bite me, get it over and done with." He had managed to conceal the fear in his voice, but the methuselah hovering over him could still tell, the child was afraid.
"You're being remarkably courageous, for someone who's about to be drained by one of your worst nightmares." Ivory canines sank down, piercing skin and plunging into the pulsing artery. Radu wasn't one bit gentle. Dietrich's head was forced back, exposing more of his throat. Fingers clutched at the methuselah's shoulders, but strangely didn't attempt to push him away. It wasn't until that clutching grip had loosened and slipped that Radu reluctantly let go of Dietrich's throat. It was a rather hard thing to do, to finally let go. The puppetmaster's blood tasted strangely sweet, almost deadly, like a lethal poison.
"It tastes rather good, doesn't it?"
Isaak's voice was a velvet-soft purr behind Radu's ear. The methuselah nearly jumped, turning around to face the magician who stood behind him, wearing an almost predatory smile. Flamberg's eyes narrowed. Behind him, the puppetmaster slumped against the pillar, nary having the strength to stand after he had been drained so forcefully. As those hazel eyes met his own, Isaak saw that they were dull; he couldn't see past the exhaustion which stemmed from the sudden loss of blood.
"Panzer Magier."
The all-too-wary tone in Radu's voice made the magician chuckle.
"Flamberg."
Isaak stepped around Radu, kneeling beside the puppetmaster's slumped form. Fingers took hold of Dietrich's chin, forcing the puppetmaster's clouded gaze up. "You love playing with fire, don't you? And you love to get burnt by it too, don't you?" An arm slipped around the puppetmaster's back. Isaak rose to his feet, Dietrich held close against him. Blood trickled from the two puncture wounds on the puppetmaster's throat, staining the shirt crimson. His hair rested against Isaak's shoulder.
"To exploit something, one must be familiar with it, no?" Despite feeling drained and weak, Dietrich still managed a cocky smirk. He tried to take a step forward, stubborn nature taking over, but in his weakened state, Dietrich nearly stumbled. The only thing which prevented him from falling was the magician's arm, wrapped firmly around his waist.
"Oh, that term could be so explicitly applied to you." Teeth found and nipped at the puncture wounds, drawing a gasp of pain from Dietrich's lips.
Radu watched in stony silence, fingers holding the disk Dietrich had handed to him. "Magier, I request to take my leave."
Isaak turned his lightless eyes to Radu. There was a disconcerting smile on his lips. Radu found himself unconsciously taking a step back. "Dismissed." The smile never left the mage's lips. As the methuselah turned to leave, he heard the magician continue his words. "Oh, and Flamberg..."
Radu froze in his tracks. Isaak merely smirked, hand cupping Dietrich's cheek, gazing down on the now sleeping puppetmaster. "I should thank you."
A smirk crept across Radu's lips, as he started to walk down the stairs. "It was no problem at all, Magier."