Home Away from Home [Aurin]

[Torin Kilvin]

The smith did as instructed, falling back into old patterns so easily it was like falling into bed after a long day's labor. If he flushed at certain points while he did so, if he suggested that Aurin give him a regime to keep him fit how Aurin wanted him, if he kissed and praised what he, in turn, was allowed to see, that was just part of the show.

When they were both clean of body if not of mind, Torin dried them with the towels provided by the local wash-and-deliver service. Only once they were both 'dressed' in as far as having slung towels around their waists and began to make their way towards the kitchen did he really process the information he'd been given before the shower.

"I could go with you, unless you'd rather go alone." There was no disappointment or judgement in this. Aurin had many reasons, both his own and those of the one who he had initiated, that might require a lack of Torin in the mix.

"Should I make another pendant for him and add it to the network? I can just... do that, now." Being able to adjust an enchantment after it had been completed was considered a highly advanced skill, one which few enough runesmiths attained that it wasn't even considered in by most teachers or in most books that taught the subject. The ability was a source of no little pride, and this shone through his aura like a mini sun of his own.

Torin looked around the kitchen before running a hand over the back of his neck sheepishly.

"We don't really have much food here. We just grab our meals on the way to and from the school. We have some juice and candy from the bakery downstairs. Oh! I can run down and get us something from there if you're starving. It's good, but the lady who runs it isn't from here, so it isn't local food. She is from the other big elven city."

His voice lowered,

"Solunarium. People look at you unfriendly if you talk about that around here but they don't seem to mind her cooking. She isn't an elf."

[Aurin]

The towel didn't seem to want to cling to him, so it was hanging dangerously from sharply hewn hips. Aurin wasn't weak, but he wasn't built the way Torin was. He was long and lean, whipcord muscle lean over his bones. Whereas Torin had some healthy fat to support his musculature, Aurin looked just this side of healthy. But no matter how much of Timon's food he gobbled down, Aurin's body didn't seem to want to stock up despite having been starved before. It was as if it wanted the minimum allowable weight just in case he had to run. Likely, he burned a lot of the fuel he ate in his casual use of his tricks, so quick and subtle that even Torin only really noticed it if he was paying attention. Sivan said that Aurin worked a lot of his magic as naturally as if he was breathing and so it didn't trip the alarums in his mind that others did.

"Sure, you can come. If I don't just pop over while you're busy. A pendant would be excellent, actually. Especially if he's going to be moving around as he's likely to do once he has his freedom." Even Aurin didn't fuck with illicit ward tokens to get him past the wards of Sol'Valen. He didn't want to fuck with the Dream King's krupteía and become little more than a dream half-remembered himself.

"Vastian," he supplied with a nod even as they heard the front door open quietly. Aurin instantly smirked.

There was a pause before Sivan poked his head in the door.

"A thousand and one apologies, my friends..." he began out of habit before pausing again, not remembering how much Mythrasi Aurin had. "I didn't mean to disturb you, but I realized we didn't have much variety in terms of food and drink, and I thought you might be spending the day... here."

"So thoughtful, Siv," Aurin said, pecking him on the cheek even as he relieved him of his burden, a brightly woven sack Hilana had given him that he used because it made the Vastian lady smile.

Sivan's golden cheek went rose gold and a hand came up to his cheek without his volition.

"Oh, ah... just... being h-hospitable..." Clear blue eyes traced the hard planes and lines of Aurin's back, all pointing down to where the top of his crack was peeking out above his towel. The elf shot an apologetic look at Torin even though he knew Torin wouldn't mind. "Y-yes, well, I just have to get something from my room, change, and I will be going to Tavárinoikos so you two can... you know... wherever. Just, you know, wipe down the counters after, please. Oh, and let me know if you need me to bring you anything back from outside." He tossed Torin a wave and then disappeared, not fleeing so that either of them couldn't stop him if they had something to say or ask, but he was earnestly trying to give them their space and privacy.

Aurin smelled pistachio, honey, cardamom, and various other things. His stomach growled.

"Chocolate croissants!" Or whatever they called them in Solunarium or Sol'Valen. Some foods had long since crossed borders.

[Torin Kilvin]

Torin nodded along, making a mental note about the pendants.

"I'll have to borrow yours for the end. It's the key to the others, the hub, I suppose." Torin could speak to another person in the network of communication, but only if Aurin connected them, either both with himself or one to the other. They might be more useful if he had made them all equally able to connect to each other but leaving Aurin in charge or which of his little birds was able to speak to the others had felt more correct. Beyond that, Torin had imagined, likely correctly, that Aurin would be more comfortable knowing who was speaking to whom and about what.

There were traditional forms of communication, but Torin didn't actually know any of the other members of Aurin's circle personally. He knew a few of the local Kalzasern ones professionally, would recognize them if he saw them, but had no reason to initiate contact outside of work they performed for their information monger overlord.

He was about to explain further, wanting to work out the specifics of the adjustment to the magic and knowing that Aurin would let him talk about his work when he wanted to or needed to, when he heard the front door open. Sivan's aura filled the apartment just before the elf appeared. Torin could have felt for and found him with Semblance before he entered, but a significant part of a person's aura had to do with the ways in which they thought about themselves. When Sivan arrived he considered himself in the apartment, so his aura stretched out to be there. It wasn't a perfect explanation, but it made sense to Torin.

He let Aurin move in and greet their mutual friend first, since they hadn't seen each other in months, but he pressed in close after the fox had snatched away the food. Smiling lovingly, he kissed Sivan's mouth in similar, if less suggestive, gratitude.

"You are a wonder." He said, slipping easily now into the elven tongue.

Neither of the nearly-naked men tried to stop Sivan when he fled, politely. He did have work that needed done that day and besides that, he was trying to give Torin time with someone he had missed with his whole heart. It made the smith love the alchemist more.

Moving over to give his own investigation of the pouch, he found that it indeed contain chocolate croissants and other pastries as well as buns stuffed with sausage, several kinds of local fruit and a packet of the spiced tea that reminded him of coffee. Feeling too lazy to bother with the kettle, he measured water and the tea into the teapot directly and flash heated the water to boiling with Fire. It would take time to steep, but once that was done he would cool it as quickly to drinking temperature and pour for them both as he sat in one of the high stools that edged the high kitchen counter.

"Your, uh... friend, who you initiated. Which rune did you give them?"

[Aurin]

"Trvrshn," he said through a mouthful of sweet even as he considered what to try next for savory to balance it out. He had thought he mentioned it, but perhaps he had gotten too used to speaking around subjects for his own good and needed to remind himself to be more direct when he had no reason to hide information. Torin was good with secrets, anyway, able to bury information in his aura so deeply that it would take Arry's Assessors unknowable amounts of time to dig it out if they could.

"Traversion," he corrected himself after swallowing. He wiped the chocolate from his thumb onto the corner of Torin's mouth, then licked it off of him. He handed Torin the chocolate croissant with a huge bite taken out of it and then pulled out a sausage roll while Torin prepared tea. Aurin's knee-jerk morning brew was coffee or other, stronger stimulants, but when he was relaxing, he did enjoy the milder alertness that tea brought. Also, Sivan always said that it was better for the body and he supposed an alchemist would know.

"Can he commune with the Kindred from here?" he asked, then took a bite of the roll. It was a little too hot so he found himself inhaling through his mouth to cool the food off before it burned his tongue. He could afford to eat like an uncultured barbarian in front of Torin. If Torin didn't want to speak for him, Aurin would just ask him directly. They were both witches by Zaichaeri definitions, and while Sivan seemed more comfortable relating to Aurin via Torin, he knew the elf was trustworthy and dependable. It just hadn't occurred to him before the pair left for Silfanore that he didn't know how some bonds would work, stretched over half the continent and possibly blocked by Sol'Valen's mysterious defenses.

Then he grabbed Torin from behind, free hand sliding around his waist to rest between the towel and Torin's skin. He pulled him close, thrust against him.

"Who's my sausage roll?"

Or, well, he would be full of meat when they started round two in earnest.

[Torin Kilvin]

The answer to his question was the one he had suspected, and he tried to remember all that he knew about what that initiation entailed. If Aurin was there with him, he had to assume that the one he had gifted with the rune of traveling had found their way back already, so he settled into their breakfast without much worry.

It was kinda hot, the way that Aurin let his masks drop around Torin. Not only his magical ones, but also the societal ones that controlled behavior and politeness. They could revert to a pair of boys when they were together and often did so to an extent that Timon, the only real boy left among their inner circle, rolled his eyes at them.

The smith laughed at being smeared and licked, and chased his lover's mouth when he pulled away. Chai, when done correctly, was almost as thick and stimulating as coffee. Torin had not done it 'right' but it still tasted good when mixed with fresh milk from the cold box and some local sweetener. His mouth was full of the tea when the question was posed, and had to struggle to swallow the hot beverage to answer.

"I... don't know?" He hesitated, but didn't think that the information Sivan had shared with him was private enough that he need conceal it from Aurin. "I think they have people sort of all over. They are older than Zaichaer, I dunno how old, but I get the feeling it's very. There are symbols they have that other Kindred can find, or people who need their help. Likely there is someone here in the Enclave, other than Sivan, I mean."

Pouring a single cup of citrus juice cool from the ice box for them to share in their haste to burn their tongued, he took a sip only to almost spit it out first moaning and then laughing as he was assaulted from behind.

Blushing furiously he said, very quietly,

"I am?" It wasn't a protest and his tone was decidedly just as interested as it was embarrassed. The hand not holding the glass of juice reached back to grasp the slim hip behind him, pulling them closer together.

[Aurin]

"I'll ask him," Aurin decided aloud. "I only know a few of them. They're usually dancing skyclad around bonfires in the woods and shit, but he's the only Hytori druid I know." Aurin called them druids, whether they self-identified as such. He assumed there were secrets the Kindred didn't let out of their Grove or their pretty little heads, but there was also plenty of intelligence shared among the witches to keep them all safe, fed, and thriving. They were dependable in their way, but he still couldn't wrap his head around wanting to be part of a hive mind, even only on occasion. Sivan still seemed entirely himself, but perhaps he was just good at hiding whatever changes had been wrought upon him.

When Torin answered the question correctly, he smirked, and wiggled his hips with their nether regions flushed.

"You're too easy," he informed Torin bluntly. "You could be giving your capstone presentation at the workshop in front of makers, princes, and even your pet goddess, and I could just wander in the back, smile and caress my nipple a little and you'd start humping your podium. You make marvels on your aether forge, but I enchanted a proper young apprentice and turned him into a big old slut. I'm going to whore you out next year—your enchanting skills, anyway. Well, unless someone makes me a good offer for your ass." He smirked. "I'll sneak you into Zaichaer's coven market. Introduce you to some people. They'll pay you, of course, but... Kala's family will always keep you busy and paid. I think the witches might offer you some challenges that would get you hard and happy."

He groped and found Torin hard and happy.

"You know I like to keep you hard and happy."

[Torin Kilvin]

Torin was not offended on his behalf, even if the things Aurin said were not... entirely... true. He wouldn't force his attractions and needs onto anyone who hadn't expressed interest. He did say,

"Hey..." When Aurin called Kala Torin's pet. If anything, he knew that he was in her pocket. She was his mentor, his liege and his patron. She might even be his deity, considering the things that had passed between them. Torin didn't think he knew how to worship, had certainly never been taught the proper ways to venerate a goddess, but Kala was new to being a goddess so maybe that didn't matter as much.

The brief moment in which Aurin let his property believe that he would become his pimp in reality caused a flood of emotions, not all easily identified, to fight for dominance inside the smith. There was a certain lord, back in Kalzasi, who was happy and willing to pay to watch the pair perform certain acts and that was... well, it was nice. Torin wouldn't have called the man a friend and had no interest in engaging with him one-on-one, but he wouldn't have had to pay for the pleasure of seeing Aurin's pleasure in Torin for Torin to be interested. The exchange of money did something though, enhanced it for all of them in a way that Torin couldn't define but still felt.

"Zaichaer?" He asked, sounding excited, even if a little wary. He knew little of the place outside of their reputation. Which was of course as Kalzasi's enemy, but which was also as a place developing unique new uses of Artificing. "Is there an Artificer's coven? I've heard they use the skill in ways not seen anywhere else."

Sivan was learning new Alchemical techniques as Torin was learning Runeforging ones, but they were both learning more Artificing from the elves together. There was still so much that the smith didn't know about his third World magic and with his newfound confidence in his other abilities, it seemed like the most exciting area to branch out.

The hand sliding around and dislodging his meager covering altogether yanked his mind from the future right back to the present. Turning around slowly so as not to discourage Aurin's hands he kissed his man and said,

"We should finish breakfast and then go check on your friend, but first..."

He slid to his knees and looked up into his master's face, "Feed me?"

[Aurin]

Aurin just smirked. If Torin had been fucking his divine benefactor, Aurin would have known about it. Mists, he would have approved, being a certified god-fucker himself. But Torin had a hold on her, too, whether he realized it or not. She believed that she owed Torin protection and support because of the word as bond between them, never mind the friendship that had grown up between them as well. Whether Torin was manipulative enough to leverage that to his gain was another question entirely.

Also, Aurin just liked teasing and sometimes that involved being shocking for shock's sake.

He marked Torin's responses, mostly with his normal senses, but he was relaxed into his sembling trick just now. It wasn't an active thing; he wasn't concentrating on it, but he was taking in more than his mundane senses could account for.

"No formal artificer coven. The Grymalka all practice a world magic, necromancy. That's the closest to a coven focused on one, though. There are some here and there among the others, but none are nearly your match. I don't know if it's a matter of they don't have your training or they have reached the limits of their talents. Perhaps you'll start a guild of Makers between Zaichaer and Kalzasi and the valley." He smirked, but it was more smile than most of his smirks. Before Torin had begun traveling, it was nice having him in one place so Aurin always knew where to find him. But there was another sort of pleasure in watching him become a bit of a globe-trotter, seeking opportunities beyond one city.

And Mists, he was deep into things with the Myshalarai and the Railrunners. The Whispers belonged to him, if not in a possessive sense, than in a patriarchal, protecting, and supporting sense. If Torin started a guild or coven of Makers, they would be under Aurin's ultimate control. A few more good deeds done for Sunsingers like Imogen and the networking he was supporting for Kindred and Grymalka, and he might actually make a bid for the witch-king's crown. They didn't have a singular leader anymore, though he supposed Eshar had the most pull if it came down to it. And he was Eshar's favorite.

"Mm, mhm..." Torin was on his knees and that felt right. Aurin was no god, but he was the god of Torin's idolatry. He took up the sack that Sivan had brought for them and carefully, slowly, fed himself. From time to time, he gave some to Torin, placing a scrap of something in his waiting, open mouth, smearing something over his lips so Torin could lick them and Aurin could call him 'sloppy' and the like. Eventually, he tossed the sack aside, twined his fingers through Torin's hair, and fed him something else, mindful not to make him choke so hard his food came back up. That would be a waste.

When he was shuddering and done, he snapped his fingers.

"Up."

When Torin was up, "Turn around."

A good house guest, he picked up the fallen towels, threw one over the his shoulder, then wound up the other so he could flick it just so that it cracked like a whip against Torin's bare ass.

"Run."

[Torin Kilvin]

The morning was all that he wanted it to be, so many things that he had been missing. It was frightening, in a way, to be becoming something new, or recognizing what he had already become. So, it was a relief and a comfort to know that, whatever else either of them became, however high or low they reached, the connection between them could always be like this. Torin was beginning to accept that not only did he have the titles that said he was someone, but he had earned them. Without the anchor that Aurin provided, the space for Torin to be small and young and powerless for someone, the smith knew he wouldn't have been able to hold up all his responsibilities. Being able to put them down, to be Aurin's messy creature, a boy that needed the discipline and care of his daddy, enabled him to be all the other things that people saw in him.

The sharp sting of the towel, in combination with the rest of the concentrated attention, did not slacken the broad blond's needs, physically nor emotionally, but it did make him run. Back into the bedroom where he found clothing for both of them and they helped each other dress with no small amount of touching between. Torin's body might be begging for things, but being denied them, for a time, was better than being indulged. He could indulge himself in any manner of things any time he wanted to, being controlled was better, sat so peacefully inside him, it felt like a part of him that never slept was curled up and resting.

When they were decent, or at least clothed, Torin led the way from the apartment, locking it up securely behind them before turning to the redhead.

"So, where is your new apprentice? I read several books on the different types of initiations. Traversion can be tricky, but if you led him back to himself, there isn't much danger. The next few days may suck, and it might be smart to find a Negationist to ward his home against Traversing in and out so he doesn't accidentally end up somewhere random in his sleep..."

The smith, elated from both the completion of a difficult new project and reuniting with Aurin, was possibly talking too much. It was something that his friends knew he only did when he was very comfortable.

[Aurin]

When Torin turned away from the door to look at Aurin, he received a sharp slap across the face, more surprising than painful, though his skin felt it and eventually began to burn. Then Aurin's hand took him by the nape of his neck, pulled him in, and Aurin claimed his mouth. There weren't many people in the street just then, and his surprise might have blinded him to glamours that actually protected their privacy and protected any passersby from being complicit in violence and dominance.

When Aurin pulled away, he was smirking, and he released Torin's neck to run the backs of his fingers over the slapped cheek.

"As if I don't know what I'm about," he almost clucked, amused.

Then he slung his arm around Torin's shoulders and they were off.

fin.