A/N – Just a couple of things. Firstly, apologies for the appalling delay. I always intended to continue with this fic but was sidetracked by some quite serious health issues, and it took me a while to get back on track. Secondly, the story gets smuttier from this chapter onwards. This chapter is kinky-ish and contains spanking. If you don't like things like that I would not recommend reading any further. Also thank you all very, very much for the feedback so far, it really does help me to write when I know others are enjoying it.
Chapter 4 - The Provocation
Only when they entered the apartment and Magnus closed the door behind them did he breathe a sigh of relief and allow his lips to curl into a smile.
"Thanks heavens that's over," the warlock sighed when the pair of them had finally returned to his apartment. "So, what do you want to do today? I suggest we order take-out and vegetate in front of the TV for a minimum of five hours. Any objections?"
"We can do whatever you want, right after you explain to me what the hell was going on back there," Alec snapped, planting his hands on his hips. He knew he sounded bitter – petulant, even – but right now he didn't care.
"I honestly don't have the energy for this, Alexander," Magnus replied.
"Are you serious?" Alec demanded, his eyes widening. "You drag me to some creepy vampire mansion only to leave me on my own for hours while you get up to God-knows-what with that creepy blond…fucktruck?"
"It was more like twenty five minutes," Magnus corrected him impatiently. "And just for the sake of clarity, precisely what are you accusing me of?"
"Nothing. Just tell me what happened."
"Exactly what always happens when people hire my services," the warlock groaned in exasperation. "Angelotti had a personal problem and I helped him fix it. I'm afraid I can't go into details, he swore me to secrecy. And I have to respect his privacy, you know I do. It's my job, Alexander."
"If you're trying to set my mind at ease, you're failing miserably."
"I know. I'm sorry, okay?" Magnus sighed. "I guess I shouldn't have brought you with me, it probably only made things worse. I'd hoped you'd get a chance to speak to him, to get to know him a little, and see that you have nothing at all to worry about. But he's dealing with rather a…serious problem, and unfortunately I couldn't persuade him to socialize. But listen, it was strictly business, I swear. You don't think I was having some kind of passionate liaison with him while you sat downstairs in that tasteless parlor, do you? You don't really think I'd do something like that?"
"I only know that there's a hell of a lot you're not telling me."
"Haven't you ever heard of client confidentiality?" Magnus asked, a note of exasperation creeping into his voice. "Look, you can ask me whatever you like about my personal dealings with Angelotti – though I assure you, there's precious little to tell that you'd be interested in – but when it comes to the professional side of things, I have to keep my mouth shut sometimes, same as I do with any other client. You know that. But I promise, his personal problems don't need to concern you in the least."
"All right, so tell me, where did you and Angelotti first meet?"
"Oh Lord, it was Paris, I think, or perhaps Milan. I don't know, we did a lot of globetrotting in those days."
"How delightful," Alec muttered under his breath, though Magnus either didn't hear or simply chose to ignore it.
"He was fabulously wealthy, he owned lands and establishments all over the world," Magnus continued lightly. "I'd heard of him long before I ever met him, he's quite ancient, I believe, though precisely how old I couldn't say. I know very little about his history – I don't even know his first name, for that matter – but there was a time when I considered him a friend. Well, more of a drinking buddy if I'm honest. He's the type of person who would want to spend every evening of the week in your company, and then just disappear off the face of the earth with no warning for months on end – social butterfly type, not too reliable. All the same, I saw him pretty regularly for a period of two or three years, after that we kind of drifted apart…you know how it is. And for the last time, we were never, ever, at any point, romantically involved. We never had sex, never kissed, never held hands, never exchanged mixtapes, never bought matching bracelets or his'n'his silk bathrobes. We were friends, that's all, and not even particularly close ones if I'm honest. It's been more than sixty years since I last saw or heard from him. Until yesterday of course. There, does that answer your question?"
"I guess," Alec said moodily. "So, why did you guys stop hanging out? Did you have a fight or something?"
"No, we just started moving in different circles and gradually lost contact," Magnus replied, and though his voice was low and even, Alec detected a note of growing impatience in the warlock's tone. He didn't exactly blame Magnus for getting annoyed, he was fully aware of how needy and irritating he was probably being, but there were times when he found it almost impossible to restrain himself. He had no trouble believing that Magnus had told him the truth – he knew his boyfriend well enough to understand that the warlock rarely told an outright lie, but was nonetheless prone to equivocation and the omission of vital truths. Alec often had to word his questions very specifically to gain the information he wanted, and whenever Magnus gave an answer there was always the hidden implication of things unsaid. The problem was, Alec never quite knew whether his own paranoia was responsible for his nagging sense of doubt or whether he truly did have cause to be suspicious. It was hard to trust his instincts when they so often led him astray. On this particular occasion, he wasn't even sure why he was making such a fuss – he regularly came face-to-face with the ghosts of his boyfriend's checkered past, after all – he only knew that there was something about the vampire he didn't like, something that gave him a cold, crawling sort of feeling inside. Then again, pretty much every vampire he'd ever met put him on edge. And it wasn't as if he had any cause to believe that Magnus had been unfaithful to him – whatever secrets the warlock was keeping, Alec could hardly accuse him of infidelity. Swallowing down his suspicions, he took his boyfriend gently by the hand and smiled tentatively.
"So anyway," Magnus continued, his face visibly relaxing. "I don't know about you, but I'm so hungry I could eat a scabby phouka."
"Yeah, I'm starving," Alec said.
Magnus went to order Chinese take-out while Alec slumped down on the sofa and idly switched on the TV. Still feeling a little unsettled, he sat with his eyes glued to the screen. The news was on. Never having watched mundane television before he had met Magnus, it had taken some getting used to. The dramas and the comedies and the trashy reality TV shows were commonplace to him now, but the news always affected him oddly; it seemed to him an endless parade of other people's misery and hardship. He sat there and allowed the sad stories to wash over him one by one – a devastating hurricane in India, an economic crisis in Europe, a string of grisly murders in Miami. The world was overflowing with pain and horror, and yet here he was, sitting in this quiet, beautiful place beside the man he loved more than he had ever imagined possible – Magnus had joined him now, and was clasping Alec's hand in silence. Alec shook his head lightly. Perhaps he shouldn't take so much for granted, and spend his time agonizing over such little things. He turned to Magnus, and was surprised to see his boyfriend looking utterly preoccupied, his feline eyes staring blankly ahead, his face frozen and mask-like. There were times when the warlock seemed so very far away that Alec longed for nothing more than to reach out and drag him back. It drove him crazy when he thought about all the people Magnus had known, all the places he had been and the things he had done in his long lifetime – he had such a vast and diverse wealth of experience that Alec couldn't help but feel inadequate by comparison, like a small footnote in the endless chronicle of the warlock's life. And of course, Magnus had made every effort to reassure him, but somehow Alec only felt the truth of it when he had his boyfriend's full attention, when their eyes met, or when they kissed, when that faint electrical charge passed between them and he knew that he was at the center of Magnus' world. The rest of the time he felt small and insignificant, like a little pale ghost clinging to the periphery of things, about to be discarded and forgotten at any minute.
"Magnus, are you ok?" Alec asked hesitantly.
"Of course I am," Magnus said, jolting out of his reverie with a start but regaining his composure within a split second. At that moment, the doorbell rang, and the warlock hopped nimbly to his feet to answer the door.
One Chinese take-out and several bottles of beer later, Magnus and Alec lay sprawled together on the couch. Alec felt hazy and strange – although he had been drinking alcohol for years, he was unaccustomed to imbibing large amounts at once, and sometimes it seemed to play tricks on him, tampering with his moods in unexpected ways. On this particular occasion it was stirring an odd kind of melancholia inside him, making him dwell on things he would rather not, plunging his thoughts down into darkness. It didn't help that every time he glanced over at Magnus, the warlock's face bore the same preoccupied expression as it had earlier that day – there was a burning intensity in those yellow-green eyes, yet they were focused elsewhere, fixed upon some remote spot in the interminable distance.
"What are you thinking?" Alec asked eventually.
"Oh, nothing," Magnus answered, snapping back to reality quick as a flash. "Just wondering what snacks to get Chairman Meow – you know, he's eaten his way through a veritable crate-load of shrimp in the past week, I find it all a little worrying."
"You were not thinking about Chairman Meow," Alec grunted. "He was clawing at your ankle for about ten minutes and you took absolutely no notice – you just kept staring blankly ahead."
"Oh well excuse me for getting engrossed in the complex and intriguing plotlines of…Jersey Shore," he finished lamely, clearly noticing the TV for the first time.
"Are you going to tell me what's going on, or am I going to have to draw my own conclusions?" Alec demanded, a little more roughly than he had intended.
"Is it really too much just to ask you to trust me?" Magnus asked quietly. "Don't you realize that I would only ever keep things from you for your own good?"
"Then you admit it, you are hiding something?"
"Nothing that concerns you, or us. Work stuff has to stay private sometimes, you know that."
"Sure, but it's not just work stuff is it? This is personal," Alec snapped, feeling his temper starting to rise. "You've been acting weird ever since you saw Angelotti. He isn't a normal client, so stop pretending this is strictly business. There's something going on between you two, something you're not telling me."
"Are we really back to this?" Magnus moaned, cradling his face in exasperation. "I would never cheat on you, Alec. I love you. Why isn't that enough for you?"
"Because it's not! Because every time we run into someone from your past there's about a 95% chance you've screwed them. You weren't exactly fussy. What am I supposed to think?" Alec paused for a moment, mildly surprised at the words spilling from his own mouth. There was a hint of rage in his voice, a rage he didn't quite feel. And although he could see the growing pain and annoyance in Magnus' face, somehow he was unable to stop himself. In fact, in an odd sort of way it pleased him. It gratified him, that after all these hours of pensive silence, it was still possible to provoke a reaction from his boyfriend. Perhaps in his own – rather childish – way, he simply wanted Magnus' full attention. "I find it disgusting, to be honest."
"I disgust you?" Magnus asked, his eyes sharp and piercing as shards of glass.
When he stopped and thought about it, Alec realized that he was not at all disgusted by Magnus. It was certainly true that thinking about his boyfriend's sexual history left him reeling with horror at times, but it wasn't prudish disdain or disapproval he felt, it was jealousy, and fear. How could Alec ever hope to compare favorably to a string of such beautiful and exotic lovers? How long did he have before Magnus woke up and realized he could do so much better? He wanted to explain this to Magnus, to hold out his hand and apologize and spill all the secret fears lurking on the tip of his tongue, but something held him back. Those yellow-green eyes were fixed upon him now, and a hard, feral expression had settled upon Magnus' face. Although Alec cringed at the thought that he had upset his boyfriend yet again, he couldn't help but wonder if this is what he had wanted all along – he finally had the warlock's undivided attention, and Magnus had that cold, commanding look on his face, the look that never failed to make Alec shiver with some nameless emotion. His pulse was racing now, and he could feel the flush crawling up his face. Some rebellious little part of him wanted to provoke Magnus even further, to rant and rage and see exactly how far he could push his boyfriend until he snapped, but he pushed that impulse down.
"Answer me, Alexander," Magnus snapped.
"No, it…it just came out wrong, I didn't mean to say it," Alec stammered hurriedly. But really, he wasn't quite telling the truth. He may not have meant what he'd said, but the words hadn't burst from his mouth by accident. He'd known exactly what he was doing – goading Magnus entirely on purpose. The only thing he hadn't quite understood at the time was why he was doing it, but he was starting to get an inkling now. A thrill of dark excitement coursed through him as he met Magnus' gaze.
"Look, I was willing to forget what you said to me yesterday," Magnus said, his voice low and perilous. "Calling me a whore wasn't OK, not even a little bit OK. But I told myself you didn't really mean it, you were just angry, lashing out. We all say things we don't mean sometimes. I was ready to let it go, but clearly you are not." When Alec didn't reply, he took a deep breath and continued. "You can judge me all you want, but I know I haven't done anything to betray you. My conscience is clean. You are the one with the problem here, not me."
"I know," Alec conceded. He was starting to feel horribly guilty, but Magnus still had that look in his eyes, that dark, masterful look Alec had subconsciously been yearning for. It made him want to crumble at his boyfriend's feet, but he held himself still and upright. He knew he should probably say something conciliatory at this point, but he just couldn't do it. He wanted to feel the fire of Magnus' anger, however much he feared he might regret it later. He had probably already done irreparable damage to their relationship, and that thought really should have sobered him, but somehow it didn't. He couldn't deny it any longer – in some weird and obscene way, this was turning him on. Quite against his will, he could feel his cock beginning to harden.
"Will you just talk to me, Alec? Explain to me what the fuck is going on here because I have no idea what's happening in that brain of yours," Magnus sounded exasperated now, and no less angry than before.
"I wish I understood it, but I really don't," Alec confessed. His gaze flickered downwards involuntarily and he realized with a shudder that his growing hard-on was plainly visible through his jeans. He wondered for a moment if he could get away with subtly rearranging himself so that Magnus didn't notice, but it was already too late. Magnus had followed his gaze, his brow furrowing as he glanced down at Alec's crotch and then back up at his face. His expression was unreadable.
For a few seconds they stood there looking at each other, then without warning Magnus seized Alec roughly by the shoulders and drew him into a ferocious kiss. Most of the kisses they shared were gentle, soft and loving, but not this one. This was passion, fire and fury. Alec felt a surge of searing heat flare through his insides, and his body shuddered visibly. Magnus was gripping his waist hard, and nipping Alec's lower lip between his teeth – Alec secretly wished he'd bite harder, feeling the sudden urge to taste his own blood on his tongue.
This wasn't actually the first time one of their arguments had turned into an impromptu make-out session; in fact most of their disputes seemed to be settled this way, and many of their more interesting sexual encounters had occurred when they were mad at each other. But then again most of their disputes to date had been rather more light-hearted in nature. It was only recently that things had taken a darker and more serious turn. Still, Alec found it difficult to dwell on this as Magnus' hand snaked down his chest and past the waistband of his jeans to squeeze his hard cock. He gasped as he felt himself being hauled forward by the hips and he and the warlock both landed on the couch in a tangle of limbs. He allowed Magnus to haul his body lengthways across the couch, barely realizing what was happening until it began, and he felt a sharp hand hammer down across his buttocks. Magnus was spanking him. Although he clearly remembered giving his boyfriend explicit permission to do just this, nothing could have quite prepared him for the reality of it. The sharp, stinging slaps rained down on his behind one after the other, leaving a tingling warmth in their wake, and a mounting edge of pain. It felt almost surreal to be in this position, and he had never experienced anything quite like it – his parents had never even spanked him as a kid, or if they had he must have been too small to remember it – but the strangest part of all was that in some twisted way, he was actually enjoying it. He felt a growing desire to submit to Magnus entirely, to lose himself, to forget every trace of his anger and his insecurity and be utterly consumed by the fire that simmered and groaned at the pit of his stomach. He wanted to abandon all control and be wondrously, shamelessly free. His erection was straining against the fabric of his jeans and must have been digging noticeably into the warlock's thigh by now. One of Magnus' hands was planted firmly on the small of Alec's back, holding him in place, and although Alec could easily have struggled and broken free if he'd wanted to, he lay there in silence, grinding his hips a little harder with every slap, the friction heightening his dizzy excitement despite the distinct undercurrent of embarrassment. But his shame was becoming easier and easier to ignore as his pulse thundered in his ears and his breath was ripped from his lungs in ragged gasps. He hadn't realized quite how close he was to orgasm he was until it began – it usually took him much longer to reach climax, particularly with very little actual stimulation, but here it was, engulfing him like a sudden thunderstorm. His body began to shudder and he gave out a strangled moan, his eyes squeezed shut as a constellation of stars burst against the blackness of his mind. Magnus had stopped spanking him now, and was rubbing Alec's sore buttocks gently as he trembled with the aftershocks of his orgasm.
As Alec's breathing gradually began to level out and his body relaxed, his short-lived euphoria was swiftly replaced with a deep, heavy sense of humiliation. What the hell had just happened? More to the point, why had be enjoyed it so much? Not wanting to talk or think about it, he tore himself hurriedly from Magnus' grasp and fumbled to his feet before the warlock could react. He hastened from the room as quickly as he could, heading for the bathroom. Magnus was calling out after him, but did not respond. He wasn't mad at his boyfriend exactly, merely unsure that he wanted to look him in the eye right now. Whether he could even stand to look himself in the eye was doubtful, and after he had locked himself in the bathroom he slid down to sit on the floor (wincing at the pain in his backside) with his back against the door, cautiously avoiding the mirror. The cum seeping through the front of his jeans made him feel obscurely ashamed, and in that moment, he found himself incapable of doing anything besides putting his head in his hands and sighing heavily in confusion.