Solitaire

A/N: I have no explanation as to how I came up with this, but I really love this pairing.

Disclaimer: Underworld, Soren, Raze, etc. don not belong to me, and I am making no money off this.
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Soren had wondered once why humans found solitaire to be such an incredibly interesting card game. Now he wished he’d never asked. It had been one helluva night, and even now the stoic janissary was wishing he were back at Ordoghaz rather than in this lycan hellhole.

Couldn’t they have picked a better base of operations than the sewers? he thought venomously.

It was bad enough having to accompany Lord Kraven down here to meet with Lucian, but to be stranded here for an entire day as well?! Sad but true, the last meeting had run late...a bit too late. Without enough time to get back to the mansion before sunrise, the two vampires had had no other option but to wait out the daylight hours in Lucian’s den.

While Kraven had gone to do some more “planning” with the infamous werewolf leader, Soren had decided to hole up in what—by lycan standards—would pass for a sitting or recreation room. A ratty shag carpet lay over the central area of the floor, and ringed around the somewhat large room was a colony of musty armchairs and couches that had probably migrated to this dismal room over the course of many years. In the middle of the so-called furniture sat an oak coffee table. Taking up residence in one of the less filthy armchairs, Soren had noticed the deck of cards on the crudely varnished surface and decided to find out how many games of solitaire one could play in twelve hours.

So far, the cards had failed to sufficiently distract the vampiric janissary from thoughts of what must surely be going on somewhere within the lycan den. Although Kraven had told Soren that he and Lucian were working out some minute details concerning Lady Amelia’s arrival, the impassive nightwalker knew better. With a grimace, Soren bared his fangs viciously. Wasn’t he good enough for Kraven? Why did the aristocratic regent have to go running off with every other immortal that crossed his path? It drove Soren insane, but he wouldn’t say anything...he never did. Patience was a virtue and so was the ability to suffer in silence.

Forcing his attention back to the cards on the table, the vampire figured that this was an ironic way to waste time. Solitaire: a solitary game for a solitary man. It was depressing in a way. Then again, he decided, I guess that’s how loneliness is supposed to be.

Soren flipped over another card and rolled his shoulders irritably. As the Awakening drew closer—it was only six months away now—he found himself becoming increasingly more stressed. Between all the extra planning and watching and arranging, the old nightwalker was having a hard time fitting sleep into his schedule, and angels be damned if he would even consider the notion of letting down his guard to sleep in a den of lycans who—for the most part—hated his guts. Soren tilted his shoulders again. This truly was going to be a long day, and it was only eleven o’clock in the morning!

He eventually became so engrossed in his current game that the janissary scarcely managed not to jump out of the chair he was sitting in when a deep voice practically right behind him said, “You look tense.”

“Raze,” Soren uttered with a soft growl. Was he really so worn out that he didn’t even hear the lycan enter the room? “What do you want?”

“Nothing, I was merely curious to know how you’re enjoying lycan hospitality.”

“ “Hospitality”?” the vampire sneered, “Hah! Well enough until about ten seconds ago.”

Soren started to stand up, but Raze placed his strong hands on the janissary’s shoulders to hold him down. If he’d really wanted, the vampire could’ve made an undignified wiggle out of the lycan’s grasp, but really, what was the point? With the alliance between Lucian and Kraven, Raze wouldn’t be permitted to actually do anything.

He’s just come here to irritate me, the janissary thought. Resolving to simply ignore anything Raze had in mind, Soren sat still and prepared himself for whatever the lycan was going to do. Nearly a minute passed in complete silence before Raze’s hands shifted on the vampire’s shoulders. It took him a particularly long second to realize that the lycan wasn’t attempting to strangle him but...relax him?!

“What the hell are you—?!” Soren tried to protest, but Raze just cut him off.

“Shh,” the black man purred, his rough voice taking on an oddly lyrical quality. “Just relax.”

For his credit as a vampire, Soren actually tried to get away, but Raze wouldn’t allow it. Then again, for a centuries-old warrior, the nightwalker’s half-hearted efforts were decidedly pathetic.

“You really are tense,” Raze whispered, leaning closer so that his hot breath tickled Soren’s ear and sent goosebumps all along his body. As the lycan’s hands began to knead the vampire’s flesh more firmly though the fabric of his shirt and overcoat, Soren resolved to just go along with it. His body really was quite sore from the abuse it had been getting lately. Certainly letting Raze loosen some of his knotted muscles wouldn’t cause a problem, right?

The vampire let out a small sigh as the lycan’s sedulous fingers continued to assuage his aching muscles. As he worked, the black man gradually glided the janissary’s leather trench coat out of the way so that the one remaining thing between skin on skin contact was Soren’s dark grey shirt. Advancing his touches forward with the utmost care, the nightwalker didn’t even have a chance to comprehend what Raze was doing until the werewolf had the top button of Soren’s shirt undone. If Raze’s hands hadn’t been holding him in the armchair, Soren probably would’ve been on the other side of the room by now.

“Let go now, lycan,” the janissary snarled softly, his tranquility of a few moments ago completely shattered.

A deep, throaty chuckle was the only answer to his flustered command.

Attempting to regain some measure of self-control, Soren hissed, “Let go of me this instant you, blasphemous cur.”

“Or you’ll do what?” Raze scoffed. “Besides,” and he ran his nails lightly along the vampire’s collar in a gesture that made him inhale sharply, “do you really want me to stop?”

Hell, no, Soren thought. This was the first bit of peace he’d had in days, and he definitely did not want it to stop, but this was going way to far!

However, Raze seemed to read his mind as he replied confidently, “I thought so.”

The black lycan’s fingers deftly undid two more buttons, and Soren had to stop himself from tensing on pure reflex.

This really isn’t anything that out of line, the vampire tried to reassure himself.

Then the charcoal shirt slid back a little exposing Soren’s creamy-white shoulders and pale collar. The lycan’s fingers on his bare flesh sent shivers through him. And once again, the janissary was reminded of his vulnerability in this confrontation. It almost made him move away...almost.

With his thumbs, Raze pressed against an extremely uncomfortable knot of anxiety at the base of the vampire’s neck causing him to gasp in relief and arch his head back, unwittingly exposing his throat. Soren had no idea how much the lycan touching him had longed for this moment. Had the nightwalker possessed a werewolf’s sense of smell, he might have noticed Raze’s growing arousal, but since he didn’t, Soren most likely wasn’t aware of how far the lycan intended this encounter to go.

The janissary was scarcely able to stop himself from trembling as Raze’s supple fingers abandoned his shoulders to massage his neck before slipping lower to his chest. The aching desire in his groin alerted Soren that this was getting out of hand, and behind him Raze had to restrain a triumphant chuckle as the vampire slowly but surely began to lose control.

Soren’s tongue flicked out to wet his lips as Raze’s hands crept even farther down his chest. The entire situation was horribly improper—what if someone walked in?—but the janissary could hardly bring himself to make the lycan stop his particularly helpful ministrations. Raze’s strong fingers stroking down the front of his chest only seemed to drive Soren farther from verbal coherency anyways.

However, the lycan eventually removed his hands from beneath Soren’s shirt, giving the flushed vampire a chance to catch his breath. When he felt the pressure of Raze’s hands leave him altogether,en ten turned around to awkwardly thank him and then demand an explanation, but before he could speak, Raze’s warm lips caught his in a kiss.

The vampire’s mind was reeling. A lycan—Raze, in fact—was kissing him?! Soren’s frazzled brain still hadn’t finished processing that overwhelming fact even after Raze pulled him over the back of the chair and into his arms. The janissary stood rigidly, completely rooted to the stop as the dark-skinned lycan held him, but when Raze’s tongue touched his lips, Soren jerked away and took a good five steps back.

The look of incredulous shock and horror wasn’t exactly the reaction Raze had been going for, and the black man began to second-guess himself on the wisdom of his decision especially when the mortified vampire partially recovered the ability to speak.

“What the hell are you—? What’s the meaning of—?!” the janissary sputtered gracelessly. “Why would you even be interested—?!”

“Because you entice me,” Raze answered cutting him off. “I want to feel you from the inside and have you beg me not to stop,” The werewolf’s voice had taken on a husky quality since he’d last spoken, “and because—dammit—Kraven just does not deserve you.”

“How would you know?” Soren snapped, at once on the defense for the sake of the aristocratic regent.

“He doesn’t love you,” Raze stated calmly.

Soren winced inwardly as the lycan’s answer hit home, but instead of showing it, he replied sarcastically, “I’m well-aware of that, but thank you—so very much—for pointing it out.”

“You should find someone who at least respects you.” Raze suggested as he stepped forward, and Soren instinctively moved back. “What the hell do you see in him anyway? I could love you better. Kraven hardly appreciates your loyalty and doesn’t even notice your love.”

As the lycan spoke, he had continued to walk forward while Soren backed away. Now with a slight thump the janissary found himself standing against the rough cement wall with no other place to run to. Raze, of course, kept moving forward.

“You never know,” the lycan purred, mere centimeters from the vampire’s face, “you might actually enjoy it.”

Raze closed the gap between them by cupping Soren’s face and tilting the nightwalker’s head up. This time when the werewolf’s lips locked with his, the janissary didn’t stop it...he didn’t respond, but he definitely didn’t stop. Then Raze’s tongue parted Soren’s lips and the vampire felt himself returning the kiss. The lycan’s hot tongue and mouth tempting him to go further. Hesitantly, Soren reached up to grip Raze’s shoulders as the black man pressed him into the wall. With their bodies melded so closely together, Soren could feel Raze’s arousal against his own, a sensation which only served to make the vampire harder. Seeking to proceed to the next step, the lycan’s powerful hands moved to unbutton the rest of the vampire’s shirt and remove it.

“Wait,” Soren said breaking the kiss and grasping Raze’s wrist to stop the lycan from undressing him further.

“Having second thoughts?” Raze asked coolly, steeling himself for an abrupt rejection.

But the nightwalker had no intention, whatsoever, of doing that. It was a new thing to have someone actually want him. In his less-than-a-handful of relationships, Soren had always been the one to take the initiative. Although his introverted personality had never helped in ventures of the romantic sort, the vampire had been seriously wondering if there was something wrong with him. How ironic to unknowingly win the affections of one who should be your enemy.

Mentally making his choice, the vampiric janissary replied. “No, I want to do this...but not here.”

~~~

It had been the work of mere seconds for Raze to lead Soren out of the rec room and in the direction of his room where they would have more than enough privacy. Since the black lycan was Lucian’s second-in-command, no one—except Lucian himself—would interrupt them, and because the lycan leader was in the company of Kraven, Soren and Raze were practically guaranteed a lack of surprises.

As they stalked furtively through the labyrinth of tunnels in the underground lair, the janissary wondered why there were no other lycans loitering about. They had been lounging everywhere when he and Kraven had first arrived...

Soren forced thoughts of the decadent regent away. Don’t think of Kraven now, he ordered himself. The day was turning out confusing enough already...he didn’t need to start dwelling on the morality of this decision.

After sneaking halfway across the lycan den, the two bodyguards arrived at a small, dimly lit side room, which contained little more than a mattress, a laptopd vad various gun-related products. Stepping into the bedroom, Soren placed his trench coat and silver-linked whips (the latter he had removed before Raze’s impromptu interruption) on the floor. With a soft rustle of fabric, the janissary’s shirt joined the two items.

Raze—following the vampire’s lead—was about to unbutton his own shirt when a particularly interesting idea occurred to the half-naked janissary. Smiling wickedly, Soren pushed Raze against the dull concrete wall and actually began to bite the buttons off. Using his incisors to sever the delicate navy threads, he spat the first button aside and returned to the task of dismembering Raze’s shirt. After the remaining five buttons had met a similar fate, the janissary pulled away the lapels of the shirt then tossed it to the floor, efficiently baring Raze to the waist. Satisfied that the annoying garment was now out of his way, Soren turned his attention to the body it had been covering. The vampire’s velvety tongue immediately began exploring the lycan’s chest, flicking across the smooth dark flesh.

Not willing to stand completely passive, Raze reached lower down Soren’s body until he was able to stroke the vampire’s arousal through his tight black pants. The janissary clutched at the werewolf’s brown body as Raze’s touches drove his lingering shreds of caution to the wind. When the lycan finally paused allowing the nightwalker’s disoriented mind to think, Soren dropped onto his knees and reached for the zipper on the werewolf’s pants fully intending to reassert control of the situation.

Shoving the lycan’s pants downward, Soren took Raze’s impressive penis into his mouth. The lycan groaned as the vampire’s skilled tongue traced its way along his erection. Soren’s fangs as well, pressed into Raze’s aching flesh, not quite biting but applying enough pressure to make him weak in the knees. The janissary proceeded with an almost torturous slowness, his diligent tongue taunting and teasing Raze’s hard cock before stopping as quickly as he’d started. Moving upward, the nightwalker kissed along Raze’s taut abdomen and then his chest and neck before nibbling at the werewolf’s lower lip.

Without breaking contact, Raze maneuvered them over to the mattress that served as a bed and then unzipped and tugged the vampire’s pants and boxers off. Carelessly tossing the black piece of clothing off the bed, Raze pinned Soren down, straddling his hips. The vampire ground his own hips into the lycan’s, their bodies so close that Raze had to stop himself from coming right then and there.

Not wanting to waste what precious little time they had, Raze reached over the side of the mattress and removed something from a tattered cardboard box on the floor...a small tube of lubricant, of course. Had he any remaining verbal capacity, Soren probably would’ve uttered some waspish remark, but instead, he merely watched as Raze uncapped the tube and motioned for him to shift over, and the vampire complied, turning so that he was positioned on all fours. As the cool—nearly cold—gel touched his sensitized flesh, Soren had no chance at holding back a strangled moan, especially as one, and then two, fingers languidly worked against his tight ass. The vampire had more or less expected their positions to end up like this, though at the very least, it was a change from the usual. Surprisingly—despite the fact that Kraven was his superior—when the two of them were in the bedroom, the regent had always been the more submissive one. With Raze, however, the switch in dominance was strangely appealing.

All too soon though, Raze removed his fingers, and the janissary had to bite back a moan of despair from the loss of contact. Then the lycan’s hard length was pressed against him. Soren gasped as the huge man thrust into him. It was painfully pleasurable, agonizing ecstasy. Raze bent forward as he moved to cover Soren’s smaller hands with his large brown ones. The vampire warrior clutched the bed sheets fiercely, and Raze gently stroked his clenched knuckles before continuing. Finally, the lycan started to pull back for another thrust, and Soren shifted his hips to better accommodate his werewolf partner.

Gradually, Raze’s movements began to increase in tempo as both immortals lost themselves to the passion of the moment. Their pants and moans filled the lonely underground room as they both neared the edge. Letting go of Soren’s right hand, Raze began to stroke the vampire’s pale erection. His nails grated lightly against the ivory flesh sending a groan and convulsion through the vampiric janissary’s body.

As another wave of desire ran down his spine, Soren felt like he was burning. He had never been human, had never felt the sun, but he’d held a candle and sat before a fire so the janissary figured that’s what sunlight must’ve been like. But now, he was beginning to think he had been mistaken. Even during the most humid summers in Budapest’s fickle climate, he’d never felt this hot. Raze was like the sun and everywhere he touched only made the sensation even stronger. Soren swore to God he couldn’t take much more, that surely he’d burst or turn to ash.

Then Soren gasped, throwing his head back and arching into Raze as his body shuddered in release. The half-moan, half-growl above him told him that Raze had cum as well. Stars ran like a crazy kaleidoscope across the janissary’s vision, but the tangy scent of blood reached his senses. As they both started to come back to earth, Raze pulled out of him and leaned down to capture his lips. Soren turned over and returned the kiss, tongue flicking out to lick the blood where the lycan had accidentally bitten his lower lip. The nightwalker also realized that Raze’s eyes had shifted into the blue spectrum as had—most likely—his own.

Still panting, Raze rolled off the vampire to lie by his side. Slowly, because he did not want to go, Soren willed himself to get up. Either Lucian would notice Raze’s absence or Kraven would notice his. But before he could disentangle himself from the bed, a strong hand was placed on his shoulder, halting his departure.

“Stay,” Raze whispered, his baritone voice raspy but still strangely musical.

Soren paused a moment. He knew he shouldn’t...

The janissary slipped back under the single bed sheet, and Raze wrapped an arm around his waist pulling him closer. The vampire moved so that he could rest his head on the lycan’s shoulder.

...he stayed.

~~~

The room was dim but comfortably so. Soren sighed with contentment and snuggled closer to the warm figure beside him.

Wait a minute...

For a moment, Soren was actually close to panicking. Then he remembered where he was...and he felt like panicking all over again. It was inconceivable—impossible! He couldn’t have, wouldn’t have...! Not with a lycan! Not with Raze.

Squirming slowly from Raze’s tenacious embrace, the immortal janissary slid off the mattress and sat down on the cold concrete floor. The icy surface helped clear his dulled senses. Icy...so unlike the heat of Raze’s aroused body pressing into his. The vampire shook his head violently from side to side in an attempt to clear his thoughts. He needed to get out of here. He needed to make sure no one knew about this. He needed...to put some clothes on. Standing up, Soren searched out his various garments, which had been flung haphazardly around the room. Pulling on his boots, pants, and shirt, he draped his vest, silver whips, and trench coat over his arm. The vampire reached the door, started to push it open...and stopped.

Standing guiltily with one slender hand on the door, Soren turned back to look at Raze. He couldn’t just leave, not without even a word of goodbye. It simply wasn’t fair. Soren knew how much it hurt to make love to someone and then wake up alone. How many times had Kraven done that to him? Truly too many to count. Besides, as soon as they left this room, they’d be at each other’s throats again, pretending all this never happened.

Walking back over, the vampire delicately brushed his lover’s shoulder. “Raze,” the nightwalker whispered.

Slowly the lycan opened his dusky brown eyes. Seeing the vampire janissary standing over him, Raze gracefully stood to face him saying calmly, “I’m surprised you’re still here.”

The janissary stepped closer. He could practically feel the heat radiating off of the black lycan’s powerful, muscular body. “Despite what you may think, I’m not so heartless to simply leave without a word.”

Raze nodded, and he tenderly cupped the side of Soren’s face while his thumb gently stroked the vampire’s jaw line. Neither one wanted this to end, but they didn’t honestly have a choice. Soren covered Raze’s larger hand with his own.

“But now I must go,” the stoic janissary said, voicing both their thoughts aloud.

The lycan gave a curt nod, and Soren put on his sunglasses and left.

~END~