"Beyond Death"

A Vincentaker roleplay (Co-writer: Stickiebun)

Author's note: Humble thanks to those who have reviewed this collaboration thus far.

Chapter 5

~xox~

Vincent was in the garden, grinning down at Rachel as they stood under an arch of flowers. his hand moved down to touch her stomach. She had just announced to him that she was with child, and pride and anxiousness filled him.

A father... he'd be a father within nine months...

He lowered his head, pressing a kiss to her lips, "Rachel..."

She smiled, returning the kiss as she laid her hand over the one resting on her stomach. "You're pleased, then?" She asked in a light, teasing tone.

"How can I not be? We are being blessed with a beautiful baby."

She chuckled. "I hope I can give you a son Vincent, but I would like a daughter some day, too. We must tell the Undertaker our good news, don't you think?"

"Son or daughter...I don't care. I've made you a mother, and you made me a father." he smiled, touching their foreheads together, "And of course we shall tell him. He's...a close family friend." The Earl was unaware that Rachel knew about his affair with the old reaper.

He got his answer to that question a moment later. "You needn't be so guarded about him, Vincent. He and I discussed this weeks ago, when you went away to the city for business. I understand the truth of your arrangement with him, and I'm not angry."

Vincent stiffened in shock, "You...know? How?" he took her hand. "You aren't disgusted with me for giving in to sin with a man?"

She laughed softly. "You know I've never been fond of church teachings, darling. Everyone is a sinner, and compared to other noble-born men, you have been a very good and loyal husband. I think I would actually be more upset if it were a woman, whom you could sire children with that could try to one day stake claim to our children's inheritance. What's more, I genuinely like the man...strange though his ways are to me."

Still smiling, she reached up to stroke his cheek. "And he protects you, too. If I must share you with someone, I'm glad that it's him."

The Earl softened, "However did I get so lucky, my dearest Rachel?" He pressed a kiss to her lips, stroking her blond curls, "I'd be a fool to not keep you as the only woman in my heart."

"Yes, you would," she agreed, putting her arms around him. "Shall we invite our friend to come have dinner with us tonight, then? We could give him the news at the table."

"Shall I have Tanaka give him a call then?" He smiled, guiding her to a bench and setting her down, "Or are you wanting to call him yourself; as it seems you two are closer than I had thought?" he teased.

"Worry not, husband," she said, returning his teasing tone. "I am not close to him the way you are. I would like to call him, though. I can't wait to see his face when he hears the news!"

"I never thought you would be. I simply meant a friendship. Come, let us phone him...together."

~xox~

Undertaker glided up the stairs from his basement when he heard the phone ringing in his shop. "Yes, yes, I'm coming," he said to the phone. "Don't fly off the handle."

He laughed at his own pun, and he picked up the telephone. "You've reached the mortuary. How can I be of service?"

"Undertaker." Vincent's voice responded, and the man could easily imagine the smile on his face by how chipper he sounded.

"Well hullo there, my love." Undertaker grinned happily. "You sound pleased today. Did you get that account you wanted?"

Rachel's voice came through the line. "It's better than that, Undertaker. We would be delighted if you would join us for dinner tonight, so that we can tell you the good news in person!"

Undertaker's brows went up. "Far be it from me to turn down a good meal...and you've got this old codger curious. I wouldn't miss it."

"Good!" said Rachel. "We look forward to seeing you, sir!"

Undertaker chuckled with delight. "Your wife is adorable, Vincent. But you know that, already."

"Yes, I do." Vincent paused to take her hand, "And I am glad you are free to join us this evening. I shall alert the staff of your planned arrival."

"Sounds excellent," enthused the reaper. "Ta-ta for now, my darlings."

He hung up the phone and tapped a long, black nail against his chin, wondering what news they had to impart to him. It must be good news, for them to sound so happy and excited. He shrugged, reckoning he would find out soon enough. Whistling to himself, Undertaker went back down to the basement to clean up after his latest autopsy. It felt like a night to be dapper. He didn't often dress up, but both Vincent and Rachel seemed to like how he looked in a proper three-piece suit, so he decided to preen a bit for them. He looked down at his crotch when his groin stirred at the thought of the way Vincent had undone his trousers with his teeth, the last time he dressed up for him.

"Behave, you," he scolded, wagging a finger at the bulge. "Not everything is about you."

The goods didn't listen, of course. Undertaker sighed. He certainly didn't want to show up at the Phantomhive manor with an obvious erection straining his pants. That was a bit more excited for the news than he wanted to appear.

"You cheeky shit," muttered the reaper. A cold shower should do the trick.

~xox~

The expecting couple waited for their guest to arrive, standing in the entry Hall, smiling when Tanaka opened the door and the reaper stepped in.

"Well, what a treat to see you dressed for the occasion, Undertaker." he greeted.

Undertaker removed his top-hat and bowed, his ribbon-bound ponytail nearly touching the floor with the motion. "Sounded like the occasion warranted it, Mr. Tanaka." He straightened back up and he allowed the butler to take his hat as he approached the couple. "My, my, look at you! Both of you are practically glowing. I can't wait to hear what brought this on."

He took one of Rachel's gloved hands and brought it to his lips for a kiss. "You look lovely, my dear," he murmured, before shaking Vincent's hand. "And you're completely dashing, my lord."

"As are you." Vincent smiled.

"It's a shame you don't dress up more often." Rachel added.

A maid walked in and curtsied, "Dinner is served,"

"Well then, shall we?" suggested the mortician. "All I've had today is an apple. I'm famished!"

Rachel chuckled as the three of them walked together through the house, into the expansive dining room. "Oh really, sir, must we begin monitoring your diet to ensure you get enough to eat?"

Undertaker grinned. "Maybe. I doubt I'll be offended by the pair of you checking in on me."

They sat down at the table, and the maid filled everyone's water glasses. "Now then," said the mortician, "what's this happy news you have to tell me?"

"Rachel," Vincent smiled, taking her hand, "Is well on her way to making me a father."

It took Undertaker a moment to comprehend that Vincent wasn't just saying they were actively trying to conceive. His jaw dropped as he looked from one beaming face to the other.

"M-my dear, are you...?"

Rachel nodded and laughed with delight at his expression. "The doctor predicts I am due in December. Isn't it wonderful, Undertaker?"

He nodded and grinned, still shocked by the news. "My, my! You must have conceived as soon as you married!" He winked at Vincent. "Well done, my lord. You dog, you."

Rachel and Vincent both blushed. "Excuse me," the Countess said, "but I was involved, too!"

Undertaker cackled with delight and got out of his seat to hurry around the table and hug her without warning. "Of course, dearie. As the mother, you just so happen to be the most involved of anyone."

Smiling with excitement, he released her and he laid a protective hand over her belly. "A baby! I knew it would happen sooner or later, but..."

A precognitive flash came over him then, and he froze, his mouth twisting into a frown.

"Undertaker?" Rachel called. "What is it?"

He shook himself out of it, not wanting to alarm the happy couple. He smiled down at her and he patted her tummy. "It's nothing, love. I just lost my train of thought for a moment. Congratulations to you both."

He kissed her hand and shook Vincent's, before heading back to his seat. "We'll, I'm ready to celebrate with a meal! What are we having?"

"Rachel's favorite, of course. A feta and spinach stuffed chicken breast." Vincent smiled, "Why not spoil the mother-to-be a little this fine evening?"

Undertaker nodded. "Indeed, my lord. I'm a bit partial to that dish, myself; but then, I eat like a horse when I'm not too preoccupied to remember to have more than biscuits. Ah, thank you, my dear." He smiled at the maid as she brought out the appetizers and set a small plate of quiche tarts before him. She blushed, curtsied and refilled his wine before moving on to attend the lord and lady of the house. Guests always got served first, at the Phantomhive estate.

"Honestly sir, I don't know where you put it all," Rachel teased. "Thank you, Miss Mary. It looks lovely."

"Milady," said the maid, and she bobbed a curtsy to husband and wife before taking her leave again. She glanced at Undertaker in passing and when he winked at her, she blushed even deeper.

"Flirting with the maids again are we?" Vincent smirked, enjoying the appetizer. "I swear you'll make the poor girl blush so hard she'll forget how to do her job, one of these days."

The reaper chuckled. "It's almost compulsory. When I see them blush, I can't help but try to make it last longer." He resisted the temptation to make a suggestive observation about the way Vincent blushed. Aware and accepting of their romantic relationship or not, Rachel was a lady and this wasn't the time to make sexual innuendos about her husband. He took a bite from a tart and he hummed in appreciation. "These are lovely."

"I believe they are one of Rachel's own recipes." Vincent agreed.

"My mother's." she corrected.

"My compliments to your mother, then," said the mortician enthusiastically. He finished one and began to work on another. "Thought of any names for the baby yet?"

"Of course we haven't th-"

"We haven't discussed it yet," Rachel interrupted her husband, "But I rather like the name of Ciel for a boy."

Vincent laughed, "Ciel's a lovely name, Rachel."

"It is," said Undertaker with a smile. "Little Ciel Phantomhive. It has a nice ring to it."

He frowned again as he thought of the image he'd briefly seen in his mind earlier, when he placed his hand over her belly. Fire and raven's feathers...what could it mean? Undertaker forced another smile for the happy couple, and he sipped his wine thoughtfully. The main course came out shortly after they finished off the tartlets, and they chatted about the family business, plans for the nursery and of course, Undertaker's business. But for the startling and unexpected visual he'd experienced, it was an enjoyable night.

They offered a room to him for the night so that he wouldn't have to drive all the way back to London, but he politely declined. "I have two 'clients' to prepare by Wednesday," he said, "so I'd best get back and start on them while the evening is still early. Don't forget our training this week, my lord."

"Of course." he nodded, "I have a family now...they are all the more important."

Satisfied, the reaper nodded and put on his top-hat. "Then I shall see you Wednesday, Earl. Milady, you keep eating well and stay off your feet when you feel any fatigue coming on."

"Absolutely," Rachel agreed with a smile. "I have only suffered minor discomforts, so far."

"Good. I hope it stays that way."

They walked him to the door and his cart was brought around for him. Undertaker turned, shook Vincent's hand and kissed Rachel's. "Thank you for the lovely meal, and the unexpected good news. Until later, my loves."

They watched together and waved as he climbed into his cart and snapped the reins, setting his donkey into motion. As he rode away from the manor, the old reaper was deep in thought. He could sometimes sense it when a mortal was destined to die in the near future, but the vision he'd briefly seen at the dinner table had come and gone too fast for him to get much out of it. He made a silent vow to keep an even closer eye on the Earl and his wife.

~xox~

Late. Vincent was running late, and it was his own fault-just like Rachel had told him he'd be. He'd been spending time with her after his work load for the day had been finished, fussing over her. Though she had insisted that she was fine tending to herself and that he should already be on his way to the Undertaker's.

He now wished he had listened to her as he pushed open the door to the shop a half hour late.

Undertaker was standing right there, with his arms crossed over his robed chest and an uncommon scowl on his scarred face. While Vincent yelped in surprise, the mortician pointed at the grandfather clock against the back corner of the shop with a long black fingernail.

"Notice anything about where those hands are pointing, Earl?"

"I do...I'm sorry I'm late, I lost track of time." Vincent bowed his head in apology.

Undertaker tapped a nail against his chin. "Do you recall what I said would happen if you're ever late for our training sessions?"

The earl's face quickly turned red, "But you were joking...right?"

Undertaker grinned wolfishly. "To the ears that don't know any better, certainly." He looked at the shop door and the dead bolt clicked into place, as if on its own. He drew the curtains with a glance, and he glided over to one of his empty coffins to sit on the lid. He patted his lap and looked up at the young man expectantly. "Let's get on with it, shall we? The day isn't getting any younger."

Vincent's face grew brighter and he slowly walked over to the reaper, "You're really going to do this?"

"Never underestimate my determination to finish your training," said Undertaker. "That means I'm willing to administer corporal punishment when you're a naughty lad. Undo the trousers, my lord."

Vincent's eyes widened. not only was it happening but-like a child? looking away, he undid his belt, letting his pants slide down and gather about his ankles, followed by his underpants before he found himself bending over the reaper's knees. It might have seemed like he was being treated as a child at first, but then Undertaker caressed his bare, smooth bottom in a decidedly non-paternal way. He gave each cheek a squeeze, admiring the tight firmness of them.

"You really do have the most fabulous ass I've ever laid eyes on, Vincent," cooed the mortician, tracing patterns over the bare skin with his fingernails. "It's almost a shame to redden it with my hand prints. I can think of other things I would like to do with it, but that wouldn't be very professional of me, would it?"

He popped the left cheek, then the right, making the Earl gasp in shock. He rubbed his bottom soothingly, easing away the sting. His voice was husky with arousal as he spoke in a dulcet murmur, the scratchy quality of his fake voice vanishing completely. "You know, I believe this really does hurt me more than it hurts you, my dear. Do you know how frustrating it is for me to handle you this way, without being able to take it further?"

He smacked both cheeks again, twice each, and he followed up with rubbing them again.

"T-trust me, I wish you would," Vincent gasped, his member growing a little hard and pressing into Undertaker's leg. "But this isn't very proper of you either."

Quickly developing the same issue as Vincent, Undertaker chuckled. "Since when am I ever concerned with being proper, when we're alone together?" He spanked him again, giving him three sharp smacks this time before rubbing to comfort the blushing flesh. "For that matter, I hardly bother with propriety in any other setting. Hmm, you seem to be responding favorably to my punishment, love."

The reaper shifted in his seat a little, pressing his hardening groin against Vincent's lower abdomen to demonstrate his next announcement. "Then again, so am I. There's no point denying it."

He continued to spank him, alternating between smacking and rubbing his bottom. When he felt the spot of moisture against his leg and the evidence of how hard Vincent was, he knew he wasn't the only one with a bit of a kink for it. He reached down and underneath the Earl's hips with his free hand to take hold of his swollen arousal.

"Such a naughty lad," he purred, stroking the length.

"Hahh!" The Earl took a shaky breath, "You can hardly blame me! This is hardly comparable to how my father or, usually, Tanaka would punish me as a child! You may still be an elder, but you are my lover and the way you are spanking me..." he bit his lip, his length twitching in his lover's hold, "Mmm...makes me want more," he finally admitted.

Undertaker obliged him, unable to help himself at this point. He kept stroking him as he spanked him, making him squirm and getting quite excited himself, in the process. "You're tempting me to change the lesson plan drastically," he admitted, breathing heavily with desire. He wanted to kiss and lick the blushing globes he was punishing...wanted to bend the Earl over his desk and take him until his cries could be heard three blocks away. He was supposed to be helping Vincent hone his defensive moves, not spanking and humping him.

"Your fault-you insisted this happen," Vincent gasped, "Ohhh, Undertaker!"

Hearing the sweet note of surrender in his voice, the reaper groaned with lust and kept it up. He imagined the headlines that would no doubt come of it, if anyone saw them now. If he weren't so invested in the act, he might have laughed at the thought. The desperate cries now bursting from his lover's mouth as he neared his peak made the situation far from funny, though.

Vincent bit down on his lip, "I'm...going to make a mess soon-!" he gripped the tight fabric of his lover's pants and shifted. Of course, he shouldn't act so surprised. The reaper seemed to always know exactly which buttons to push to get him to the edge.

~xox~

Undertaker was taking far too much delight in this. He knew that if he kept going, he'd toss the day's lesson plan into the wind and spend the afternoon making love to his charge, rather than punishing him for his tardiness. A climax wasn't the goal here.. He stopped, and he patted Vincent's flushed rear, pulled his pants partway up, and tucked him in a bit.

"There. Now you may get up and straighten your clothes, Earl. We still have the lesson plan to see to."

Vincent stared at him a long moment, unblinking. Was he serious? he was going to leave him like this...right on the edge? He let out a whimper. "You can't leave me like this! I can hardly concentrate on anything else!"

"Then consider it a lesson in discipline," advised the reaper—though he could hardly think of anything else, himself. He was simply old enough and experienced enough to focus through his lust. "What are you going to do if you're in the middle of making love to your sweet Rachel in the dark hours of the night and some assassin comes in through the window to kill you both? Are you just going to keep going, or will you put your safety before pleasure and defend both your lives?"

He nodded at the Earl's open pants, trying not to stare at the sight of his erection peeking out, begging to be finished off. "Now put your cock back in your pants. We'll have some tea and settle down, but there will be no more playing 'till your defensive lessons are through for the day. Call me a sadistic bastard if you want, and get it out of your system."

"You truly are an evil man, Undertaker," obliged Vincent with a groan, "and that situation is different! there is no danger here and now!" Vincent grunted in discomfort as he did his pants up and tucked in his shirt. "Besides. you want me just as much!" he ran his fingers up along Undertaker's thigh to his own bulge to make his point.

Undertaker didn't move, but his eyes flashed beneath his bangs and his smile held a warning in it. "Careful, Earl. You shouldn't tease a hungry wolf."

"The world teased the guard dog." Vincent pointed out, smirking as he pressed his hand firmly to his crotch and leaning in, lips hovering over Undertaker's, "We can be just as vicious."

Now in severe danger of making a spectacular hypocrite of himself, Undertaker reached down to pull the groping hand away from his crotch. He immediately lamented the loss of contact, and he vowed to have his cheeky young lord right on his desk, before the day was through.

"Hands off the goods for now, darlin'. I can't very well give into temptation after lecturing you against it, can I?" He stepped away and took a slow, deep breath, clucking his tongue as his hidden gaze roved over Vincent with a carnal hunger he couldn't completely disguise. "Do well with your training today, and I'll give us both what we want."

With that said, he turned and went to the curtain in the back, pulling it open with an inviting gesture. "After you, my lord. The tea is ready."

"I still tried." The young lord shrugged, though he was unable to keep the look of disappointment from his face as he eyed his lover before stepping through into the Undertaker's private home, "The tea may even be cold by now." he removed his jacket, draping it over the back of a chair.

"No, I've kept the coals warm." Undertaker poured the tea and brought it over to the table, grunting a little as he sat down.

"Er...begging your pardon," he muttered as he squirmed and reached down to adjust his package under the layers of black. He sighed, blaming the make of the pants he wore beneath his robes for the amount of discomfort his crotch was in. The material was quite flexible, but it was designed to keep everything safely...secured...which meant there wasn't much wiggle room for swelling down there.

The action gave Vincent a sense of satisfaction as he got out two teacups—a gift he and Rachel had presented the mortician with—and brought them to the table, filling them and preparing their tea the way each of them preferred before he sat down and took a sip, crossing his ankle over his knee to give his own crotch a little more comfort.

"Today we'll work on your martial arts," explained Undertaker between sips. He grimaced a little at the flavor. He wasn't as big a fan of Earl Grey as the Phantomhives were, but he always served it for Vincent or Rachel when they came calling. "Your footwork is fine, but you flap your arms around like a chicken trying to take flight. The last time, I half expected you to cluck at me."

He grinned into his cup as the Earl gave him an offended look, waiting for the expected outburst. Pissing him off was one way to get his mind off sex.

"I hardly think I was that bad, Undertaker. I was following your lead, so if I looked like a chicken, it's because you did, yourself." Vincent jabbed back, smirking into his tea.

Undertaker laughed, nearly choking on his tea. "If you'd followed my lead properly, you'd have looked more like a crane. I admit though, the stance is rather silly looking. I'm thinking of basing a pose for a secret society on it." He winked at him playfully. "That being said, you need to work on your flow. Your motions are too stiff, and the style we've been practicing isn't based on brute strength, but on fluidity. Your enemies are likely to send men after you that are well-schooled in many forms of combat...but you've heard this lecture before."

"Some of the moves just seem so useless." Vincent shook his head, "It's not like fencing."

"But they can help you in a pinch if you get disarmed," insisted the reaper. He took another swallow of tea. "Like I've said; I want you to be able to use that delectable body of yours to defend yourself too. An assassin isn't going to challenge you to an honorable duel with foils."

"I've proven able to dodge attacks and evade injury—even from you—though I have the feeling you may be holding back on me."

The reaper didn't deny it. There was no point in telling him that if he ever put his full strength or dexterity into an attack against him, he wasn't likely to survive it. The monarchy, however, weren't likely to send supernatural killers after Vincent. Some might have the contacts to make pacts with demons, but there wasn't a noble in England with ties to the underworld like the Phantomhives.

"I never said you didn't," Undertaker said calmly, shrugging. "I only said you could improve...well, I said it insultingly, but you're right; you deserve some praise for how far you've come so far. It's been a very long time since I've instructed anyone, Vincent, and the last student I had was a reaper fledgling. I sometimes forget that praise is as much a part of good training as criticism."

He leaned over the table and shook his bangs to peer seriously into Vincent's eyes for a moment. "But I should warn you now, my lord, no matter how much you improve, I'll never find it good enough...and do you know why?"

"There are a few answers to that, that I can think of." the earl acknowledged. The reaper was older, more experienced, he was immortal and talented. Undertaker had a stronger sense of learning and living than he could ever hope to accomplish as a mere human. And finally...because the reaper loved him and wanted to spend the most time he could knowing that his weak, human lover was still alive.

Undertaker confirmed the last reason to be true, his voice changing from the tone of a strict disciplinarian to a lover's caress. "It's because I'm not ready to lose you."

Suddenly, the reaper was on table on his hands and knees, without making a sound or even disturbing the teacups. He reached out with one hand and he cupped the back of Vincent's head as he brought his mouth to his for a kiss. It wasn't the aggressive, demanding kiss of a man seeking to assert dominance, nor was it the chaste, brief kiss of affection he sometimes gave him when there was no time for anything else. This was quietly fierce, intense and somehow gentle at the same time. He put all his love behind it, having given up on denying how he felt. He couldn't keep Vincent forever. Whether family life, his duties or his very mortality did it, some day the Earl would be taken from him, and there was no getting around that. Training him and watching over him was all he could do to ensure that day wouldn't come sooner, rather than later.

"I want you to live to be an old man," murmured Undertaker against Vincent's mouth, "with lots of fat grand babies and a comfortable bed to lie in when it's your time to cross the veil; and when that time comes, my dear, I want to be the one to take you. Death will literally be your old friend, and he'll make your passing something to look forward to, rather than be feared. And he'll continue to love you, long after you've left your mortal life has ended."

Vincent breathed in his scent, closing his eyes as they held that moment, "However it happens, I want it to be you to take me to the other side. I'll always greet you as an old friend...my lover." he moved to stand up, wrapping his arms around the reaper's shoulders, "I know I'm mortal. I know I'll leave you one day, be it when my life has been spent, or I'm still relatively young. I know I could never be with you for all time...but I will love you beyond whatever death claims me, as long as you keep me in your memories." He whispered the responsive endearment soothingly, running his fingers through the reaper's silver hair.

Undertaker returned the embrace. How did they go from spanking to passionate, tender declarations of love? He didn't truly care. He hadn't enjoyed a proper embrace with Vincent in some time. He was a versatile reaper, able to shift from one extreme to the other. Of late, most of his and Vincent's encounters were hurried...almost frantic. The Earl was so busy with the family business, royal politics and making plans for the new addition he and Rachel were expecting, and Undertaker himself had a full schedule.

He turned his head and kissed Vincent on the temple, whispering a soft promise to him. "I'll remember you for as long as I exist, Vincent."

~And I fear your death will be my undoing.~

The carnal intrigue from earlier had faded into warm feelings, and they embraced that way for several moments, until Undertaker glanced at the wall clock and saw the time. He blew a sigh and withdrew from the young lord's embrace. "We'd best get started on your practice. Come downstairs to the basement with me, so we can begin."

"Of course." Vincent nodded, taking the ancient's hand as they descended into the basement.

~xox~

The mortician had cleared a large area in the basement, pushing all of his embalming and autopsy equipment up against the walls to make plenty of room. He released Vincent's hand and he stepped away from him, unfastening his chain belt of lockets and dropping it onto the examination table against the left wall. The pendant lamps hanging from the ceiling highlighted the reaper's silver hair as he took his hat off and dropped it beside the belt, and the mantra beads he wore around his throat soon followed. He removed his sash and his outer robe before turning to face the Earl again, now sporting only his long, button-up shirt over the form-fitting black pants and thigh-tall, high-heeled boots with their many leather straps.

Ordinarily he remained in his mortician garb when he trained Vincent, but the Earl was now good enough for Undertaker to do away with some of the smothering layers and spar with him void of the slight handicap. He grinned at Vincent when he saw his bewildered stare. "You've seen me nude before, Earl. Why does this attire have you so speechless? Granted, it's not what you're used to seeing me in, but is it really so shocking?"

"Sometimes it's more alluring to be covered in the right garments than it is to be in the buff," Vincent stated, removing his gloves and readying himself—though he had far less layers than his lover did, and it took him far less time to get ready and step into the center of the room. He pushed his hair out of his face and slicked it back so that it was out of his eyes.

Undertaker smirked, caressing him with his eyes. "I concur."

He stepped into position and fell into the Crane stance. "We'll practice this one, first. The idea is to strengthen the legs and lower core muscles, but in a fight, it'll protect your groin. Seeing as a hit to the goods can effectively stun a man in a fight, you'll want to avoid leaving that area open if your opponent closes in on you. As I've shown you before, you can kick out quickly while using it; which makes it useful for offense as well as defense. Let's see yours again, Vincent."

Unsteadily, Vincent brought himself up onto one leg, his other up as his hands also came up. unfortunately, just like all the times previously, he felt a loss of balance and he began to try to regain it, spreading his arms out and straitening his leg rather than keeping it bent and ready to kick out. it worked, at least, as he felt a bit sturdier. "...I feel ridiculous..."

"Pffft!" The reaper tried to control his mirth, but every time Vincent tried to do the Crane, he managed to satirize it. He coughed and tried to pull a straight face when the young Earl sighed at him and began to fall out of the stance. "Here," said Undertaker, crossing the distance to help him. "You're still doing the chicken dance with your arms, and you're meant to keep the elevated leg bent! Let's see if we can do better with a bit of hands-on assistance."

He circled around behind him and he guided his arms up a bit higher, then bent his wrists. "Now, hold those there and keep the elbows straight, but don't lock them. It's got to flow, my lord."

He walked around to Vincent's front again, and he steadied him with one hand on his shoulder and started to guide his knee to bend. It didn't budge at first, and Undertaker cleared his throat and gave him a warning look. The leg relaxed a bit and as he bent it at the knee, Vincent wobbled.

"Hold steady," ordered Undertaker. "No, you're straightening the leg again! Wait...why are you putting your hand behind your head?"

He couldn't stop himself from laughing at the ridiculous pose that Vincent had somehow fallen into, in his effort to stay upright.

With a small huff, Vincent lowered his leg to the floor and let his arms drop to his sides, "This is impossible! I don't have the balance for it!"

Ordinarily, Undertaker would have denied that and insisted on practicing until he got it right. In this case, though, he thought the Earl might be correct. Vincent had many strengths, but in truth he could be a bit of a klutz. His footwork was improving as Undertaker had already said, but he couldn't seem to get that gorgeous body to cooperate with him when it came to delicate balance. He was like a dog that way, and the thought made the reaper snicker some more.

"Ahem...begging your pardon again," apologized Undertaker. "I was just thinking of how like a canine you really are. You have the strength and the mobility, but when it comes to balance I think you may be right. The Crane just isn't for you, I s'pose."

"So you won't force me to 'dance like a chicken'? We can move on to something that could actually be helpful to me?" Vincent was trying not to let his lover's laugh fluster him beyond being able to get back to focusing on his lessons.

Undertaker's toothy grin returned, and he nodded. "I think you're a lost cause on that, my dear. Shall we practice wrestling techniques? You seem to do well with that."

Vincent nodded, "One moment." he stripped off his shirt. the last time his clothes had gotten ripped and though he could afford to replace it, he hadn't been comfortable returning home in such a state.

Muscles flexed as he stripped down to only his pants and shoes, smirking as he turned back to his opponent. Maybe he'd finally get an edge over the reaper like this.

The aroused state that Undertaker had finally gotten rid of rapidly approached again at the sight of his lover bare-chested, and upon recalling his own teasing words regarding already having seen one another in the nude, he sighed. "Determined to turn me into a hypocrite, are you?"

"I was more concerned about my clothes ripping again." the Earl smirked, circling around his lover like a wolf on the hunt before taking his place, "My intentions right now are innocent."

The reaper grinned and began to circle, himself. "Innocent in the manner of a hound closing in on a rabbit? Careful, my lord. Some rabbits have been known to fight back."

He watched him through the part in his bangs, studying the play of muscle, the predatory grace and stance, and the intense look in his eyes. "Yes, you really are a hunter, aren't you? I find that quite...intriguing."

He lunged for him, careful not to use his supernatural speed. Vincent proved much, much better at this sort of unarmed combat, and Undertaker approved when he caught him in a headlock and started to force him down. Had he been mortal, the pressure that Vincent was putting against his throat would begin to make him black out soon.

He had to think like a mortal—no easy feat for a retired reaper thought to be completely unhinged. The first thing a human would do would be to try and break out of the choke hold, naturally. Undertaker put one leg behind him, so that his booted foot was behind Vincent's ankle. He shifted leaned forward, pushed his hips back and drove his elbow back into the Earl's stomach, making him grunt and lose his hold. As Vincent fell backwards onto the mat spread out on the floor, Undertaker whirled and followed him down in an attempt to pin him.

Though not as strong as a reaper or a demon, Vincent's lean, athletic body was powerful, and he was a natural for this kind of sparring. Undertaker suspected he half reacted out of instinct rather than conscious thought when he tripped him and turned the tables on him. The reaper landed on his back with an expulsion of breath, blinking to clear unexpected stars from his vision as the sudden move effectively stunned him.

Vincent allowed a smug smirk to twist his lips. but he knew from other lessons that it wasn't a 'win' unless Undertaker actually spoke, admitting defeat. so he didn't let up, pinning him firmly to the floor and re-applying pressure to his throat, knowing he wouldn't kill his lover in such a way. He didn't need to hold back. "Do you concede this round, dearest?"

Further aroused by the feel of Vincent's body pressing down on him—heavier than a reaper's—Undertaker smiled benignly up at him. He was quite certain that a normal man couldn't have easily broken his firm hold, and he thought it was time he allowed Vincent a bit more control over their encounters.

"You have me," he admitted softly. He winked and rubbed one of his strappy, thigh-high boots against the Earl's hip. "The question is what will you do with me now?"

Vincent's smirk softened to a smile before Undertaker's eyes, and he lifted his arm from his throat, instead moving to cup his cheek and press a kiss to his agape mouth.

"What any real opponent can never have." he whispered with a moan.

As far as Undertaker was concerned, that concluded the day's lesson. He kissed him back and decided that it was time for a reward...for both of them.

~xox~

To be continued