Desire & Devotion

AN: new crossover! D: This will be continued, please fave, follow for updates.

Heads up: SMUT! Yaoi, M themes

Chapter 1: Smooth & Not So Smooth

Being the Baron's right hand man had its downsides, often the commander of the Krimzon guard was sent to social functions to represent Praxis. Erol hated it more than he hated metal heads, but nothing compared to how much his prisoners hated him and that was a lot. He loosened his tie as he stared at his glum expression in the mirror, he let out a tired sigh and picked up his hair brush to comb back his untamed ginger locks. He hated formalities; he was a man of action, war, guns and fire. Not the type to kiss ass in a snob party just because the guests had deep pockets. Even when he attended he wasn't much help to the Baron, he usually avoided contact with that type of specimen. Sure they were wealthy, but they were dull and hollow and their money was perhaps the only thing they had to offer.

He let out a heavier sigh when he was done, and fixed his jacket and headed for the door. Another thing he hated was formal dress codes; he was used to wearing his tight body suit, making movement so much easier, and now to put up with being stuck in an expensive black suit. He made his way to the elevator and pressed the button for the events quarters. It was where the parties and big functions were held. The Haven palace was enormous, there was a section for anything that could occur to a person, and deep down Erol loved the high life. He often got off on the finer things, adored materialistic things to say, and serving under the Baron's rule meant he could relish in all the luxuries his heart desired. He even had his own apartment in the living quarters of the palace, and other guards were envious of course and confused. Erol had everything a man could ask for living in Haven city, but he was always neutral or miserable looking, on most days irritable and took it out on the new recruits for being amateurs.

Erol walked in making an irritated grunt as he realised he was early, most the guests were still arriving and those present were indulging in small talk and introductions about the nobodies they were.

"No one cares" He thought to himself and headed further down the ball room to get his hands on some first-class alcohol, but his eyes weren't catching the sight of any. He marched barging the doors and making his way to the kitchen. His eyes lit up when he spotted it, and the kitchen staff exchanged confused glances.

"Sir we're not serving the drinks yet-" One of ladies tried to tell him, but she shook and held her breath when he glared at her, then resumed to pour himself a glass. He then strutted his was back to the ball room, leaving the poor kitchen staff in a state. He drew in the scent of the brown and cream coloured liquid. White Russian, made with vodka and coffee liqueur, finished off with cream. He adored the frothy texture as he sipped his first gulp. What else would ease his mind from a dull party? Only a few minutes later the hall was almost crowded with people, dressed up in their fancy wear, ladies glowing brighter than the chandeliers hanging off the ceiling, and men with sleeked back hair and neat attires. Erol even wished a bad disaster would take place to liven up the party, someone catching fire from being overdressed perhaps; it would be amusing providing his sadistic sense of humour. But he'd accepted that wouldn't be the case, or not today at least and he had to settle that it would be another boring party.

He took another sip from his mixture, it hadn't been as strong as he had hoped, and he was sure he was still more than sober. A man paced over to him, introduced himself as Gabriel Roman, but Erol paid the man no attention as he babbled on. "Not now" He cut him half way and stomped off to the buffet to hunt for another drink. His face almost displayed an interested expression, as his eyes flickered between the cocktails, so colourful and appetizing. He settled for the bourbon sour, its swimming slice of orange and the cherry hanging off it sold it for him. The whiskey tasted marvellous and he was beyond satisfied. Just as he took another sip from his chilled glass his eyes met the sight of a young man in a off white coloured jacket, dressed in black pants and a bow tie complementing his ensemble. Erol blinked once and looked away, but then he immediately looked back at him again. By the way he conversed, he seemed to have the skill to finesse his way through any deal he wanted, the type good with words. But through Erol's observation he learnt that he could possibly be bad with holding his alcohol, he held a glass of champagne in his hand, hardly drank from it even when he had the chance to, the rest of the group he was with were already on their second. Being in the Krimzon guard meant you learnt a lot about people such as reading body language, you see so much and you learn so much.

The charismatic man seemed small regardless of a roughly 4 inch difference between him and Erol, but he was lean, and looked to be the type that took care of himself. "But what were the odds?" The ginger man thought to himself. How likely would it be that he would sleep with another man? Surely Erol had tried it with a lot of men before, but none of the higher class, hardly found them interesting for the thought to cross his mind. But he felt something about this one, there was an intriguing aura surrounding him. Erol called to one of the waiters, whispered to him to give another drink to the man. And it had worked, he'd got his attention. The rich man refused the drink however and paced over to him, a cheery modest smile on his face. "You were trying to get my attention I believe" He addressed calmly. "Rafe Adler…" He introduced himself still holding an almost full glass of champagne.

Erol took a few minutes to speak, his eyes had wandered on their own admiring the shorter man's physique. It had been a while since he'd held another person, his bed had been cold for months. "Erol" He finally spoke and held his hand out to shake it feeling nauseous and perhaps regretting he'd drank so fast. Rafe hadn't said much yet, but he'd already managed to display his intimidating character, he ignored the hand put out for him and Erol just took it back awkwardly.

Adler nodded as if anticipating for Erol to get to the point, but this time he lost himself in his blue cold eyes. As mysterious as Rafe was he was like an open book. His eyes spoke for him; they contained a lot of trapped angry and melancholy emotions, and at the same time he was aloof and inexpressive. A paradox of himself really.

"Yes…?" Rafe smiled sarcastically, getting impatient with Erol's silence. Oh but how he was so much prettier up close. Erol only began to regret not thinking it through when his minded returned to reality and he was done gushing over the man's pretty appearance, perhaps he should have planned what to say before sending a drink over, now he was blankly just staring at him and the commander had never even thought he could ever feel this nervous. "Nothing." He finally spoke stupidly, as if hoping Rafe would walk away and pretend he didn't meet him, but the latter laughed as he clenched the glass in his hand. Erol almost swore it would pop in his hand with a tighter touch.

"Sorry, you send me a drink to get my attention, and then you say nothing. Are you trying to waste my time?" Rafe snapped and Erol was pretty shocked how fast the man reached anger, he wished he was wrong when he labelled the man to have anger issues, but he'd read him correctly.

"No" Erol responded, but couldn't think of anything to say, it was like all the words of the English language escaped him, but Rafe didn't wait another second for him to respond anyway.

"Who the hell are you anyway?" Rafe yelled, as if suggesting Erol didn't fit in their world of peacocks.

"Commander Erol, Commander of the Krimzon guard" Erol explained, more composed than before, perhaps something was in that whiskey that it messed with his head. Upon hearing this, it seemed like Rafe had calmed down a little, the name rang a bell to him. "Did you want something commander? I don't know, do you have business deal for me?" Adler seemed to try to hold back his fire, but his rude tone expressed his annoyance enough, but Erol shook his head and sighed turning his head away.

Rafe's eyes went to his head as he turned around, but Erol unconsciously grabbed his arm to pull him back, and Rafe jerked back defensively. "Don't fucking touch me" He warned through gritted teeth and pointed a threatening finger, and Erol put his hands up apologetically, hoping that hadn't caused a scene, but there were many faces staring, eyes darting and an awkward silence that tried to read what just happened.

"I'm sorry I've had too much to drink" He tried to justify, and Rafe mumbled something as he walked away, and Erol wished the ground would swallow him right there and then. He blew it completely. He attempted to retreat to the buffet, thinking maybe if he ate he'd get his mind of what just happened, but just as reached for a sushi treat he glanced Rafe whispering to two other men. They were more than out of place; in fact Erol didn't know how they managed to get through security looking like the odd ducks. The palace had strict rules, all attendees weren't allowed to bring bodyguards with them into the ball room, but it seemed like Rafe was too cautious to not bring back up, you'd have to if you were involved in the black market and filthy business. He warned them about Erol, told them to keep an eye on him like he was some creep. But they were unprofessional, amateurs in fact, they made their intentions very clear, and barely disguised the fact they were staring at the commander.

He huffed loudly turning around to fill his plate with appetisers, but by a shocking surprise, one of the men was already next to him, and Erol wondered to himself how he'd got there so fast, but the man smiled in a harassing manner, and his partner with shaved sides, a bad attempt at a mullet hairdo was standing on the opposite side, he too reached for the food, but seemed less serious than the other. Erol found himself disgusted at the sight of them, the man on his left seemed to think it was a good idea to wear shades indoors, peculiar fashion taste.

"Hey Orca! You having a good time china?" The other spoke teasingly. Orca? Must be a code name Erol thought to himself, but by the size of his belly he did seem to share attributes with a whale. Erol thought he looked bad in a suit, but then there was this guy, his buttons looked close to exploding at a high impact enough to fly and take out someone's eye as a result.

"Ey Knot, pass me the knife" Orca requested as if attempting to threaten Erol, but he wasn't moved by their silly taunts, in fact he wondered what Rafe was thinking hiring these clowns. And what could they do anyway with so many eyes on them, but among all that, he couldn't help but wonder, what the hell he even did to Rafe? Was saying he didn't want anything, threatening or offensive enough to send his mercs after him.

Erol loosened his tie aggravated that the little fun he could have had was gone now, he can no longer indulge in the divine cocktails on offer, he'd have to be sober to watch himself. Looking up from the table as he walked away to avoid Orca, he glanced Rafe in the distance and held eye contact for a brief moment as he watched the man escape the room.

"Where'd you think you're going China?" Orca addressed, and Erol huffed turning to the bugger.

"To the restroom, ask your friend if he wants to come too" Erol responded sarcastically, and Orca turned to find Knot, but he was slow to follow, and Erol got onto the floor quickly and rolled himself under the table.

"He said he's going to the toilets, should we trail him?" Orca negotiated with Knot.

"Yeah, the rich boy said don't let him leave your sight" Knot reminded, but when Orca turned the ginger man had slipped away.

"I lost him" Orca announced panicky.

"He went under the table" Knot pointed out, he'd seen him do it, but was too ditsy to point it out earlier, and while they were busy discussing it, the commander crawled from under the table, and between people's legs to get out.

"Excuse me… sorry, get out of my way" he apologised as he stood up and fixed his suit, and the women looked horrified at what he could have been doing, but he just left the room immediately, that was enough embarrassment and humiliation for a night, and though he hoped no one would remember what they saw, he had the type of face people always remembered, perhaps the Krimzon tattoos, or his bright orange hair, but he'd just hope no news of the strangeness would reach the Baron, or he'd be in more trouble than he usually was after every party.

…

Flowergirly~

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