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Fox D'Mora let the oak-paneled door swing shut behind him, feeling on edge after his uncomfortably honest talk with the cat creature in the lake-facing living room.
Feeling even more on edge from the lazy look of self-satisfaction spreading across Brandt's face, lounging as he was against an ornate marble side table in front of the bay windows overlooking the gardens.
"Hello lillegutt," he said, smiling pleasantly as though Fox hadn't only recently stormed away from him, leaving him ironclad in one of the ridiculous main rooms of the ex-Tom Parker's mansion.
"Don't," Fox huffed as he made his way across. It took longer than comfortable, the ostentatious size of the room making him feel exposed under Brandt's heated stare.
"Come to free your captive?" Brandt asked, holding up his handcuffed wrists in mocking supplication.
"No," Fox growled, batting his hands back down.
They evaluated each other for a while, the silence straying out past comfortable, through to entirely uncomfortable, and eventually into miserable.
Fox shifted from one foot to the other, wetting his lip with the words he didn't want to say, though knowing he didn't have a choice in them.
"Did you miss me?"
Brandt suppressed a twitch of his lips before breathing out slowly. "Would it make you feel better if I did?"
"You know it would," Fox answered, not meeting his eyes.
Another pause of consideration, and he knew in his heart Brandt was stirring up a lie, adding the seasoning of sincerity, tasting it on his tongue.
"No," he said sternly and Fox managed to hold down the flinch that mean little word encouraged before Brandt's expression softened. He raised his arms up and passed his shackled wrists over Fox's head to hold him close. "You weren't missing. I knew exactly where I left you."
Fox glared, watching as Brandt's heavy-lidded gaze lowered in increments to Fox's mouth
Fox pulled back before the call of the void in Brandt's dark eyes dragged him down. "If you kiss me I'll break your nose."
He immediately lamented the threat, hungering for the taste of Brandt’s lips on his; sharp and sweet with a sour bite; just like the flavour of apples that always lingered on his tongue.
Brandt grinned, and seamlessly changed tack, lowering his chained hands to the small of Fox's back until he was swaddled in his arms.
"You missed me," he stated with disgusting smugness, and Fox shuddered, feeling the cold veneer of his anger cracking underneath the heat of the godling's attention.
"No," he lied, gritting his teeth as Brandt raised an unimpressed eyebrow. "I've yet to take aim."
"I see," Brandt smirked and unprovoked slid slowly down Fox's stomach, kneeling between his feet.
"What're you—?" Fox gasped as Brandt drew his hips closer with an unbalancing tug of his forearms.
"Keep your voice down, Fox," he admonished, with a flick of his eyes to the door. "We don't have much time and who knows what reprobates could walk in."
Fox held his breath as Brandt—with millennia of experience—unbuttoned the front of his trousers with his teeth, working the zipper down with an effortlessly smooth motion of his chin.
"You don't need—I don't—," Fox stuttered only to be cut off with a firm shh, groaning weakly as Brandt licked over the bulge of his underwear, tongue working down the waistband until he was free, already half-hard and quivering.
"Be good, lillegutt," Brandt whispered, a wicked grin curling the corners of his mouth. "And don't make too much noise."
As expected, Fox let out a pathetic, bone-weary groan as Brandt sank his mouth down over him, unable to move from the sudden overwhelming heat around his cock, hands clutching at the immortal's shoulders for support as he sucked him down.
"Brandt—," he huffed, and for a horrifying moment felt tears in his eyes at finally moaning that cursed name to its owner, not just an empty room. Or worse, the wrong person entirely.
Brandt sucked low, keeping his mouth tight as he drew back and down again, the suction dizzying. Fox felt his knees go weak, and Brandt must've sensed it as he gripped him by the back of the thighs to hold him steady, bobbing with deliberately slow strokes until Fox was shaking, his body begging to slump down into one of the many damask sofas littering the room.
His hand wound into the godling's hair, holding on for dear life (since he was the only one of the two of them that could lose it) as Brandt swirled his tongue around his tip, massaging into the sensitive bundle of nerves beneath the head before swallowing him to the hilt.
"I—Brandt, I—," Fox gasped, his fist tightening in Brandt's hair as he began to touch the peaks of release, hips straining needfully towards Brandt's mouth. "I'm—"
"There you two are, we've—," Isis burst into the room, and cut herself off with a leer that looked thoroughly unsurprised. "Oh my."
"Fucking hell—" Fox growled as Brandt released him with a wet pop, turning to stuff himself back into his trousers. "Don't you fucking knock—Ow," he hissed as Brandt snapped the elastic band around his wrist, smirking up at him from his position on his knees.
"I was just sent to let you know the troops are ready to go," Isis replied with a shrug, taking a last lingering look at the scene before turning on her heel. "But, you know, take your time," she added over her shoulder as she closed the door behind her.
Fox swallowed as Brandt rose back off his knees, his manacled hands still linked around Fox's hips.
"I hate that demon," Fox snarled, fastening his trousers.
Brandt tilted his head, obviously unperturbed by the interuption as he raised both hands up to Fox’s shoulders, curling one arm around him so he could cup his cheek. Fox let himself unwind microscopically into his embrace as Brandt’s eyes flashed hungrily. "The way you hate me?" he asked with a goading pump of his eyebrows.
"No," Fox answered dejectedly as Brandt rubbed a soothing thumb across his cheekbone. "I'm in hate with you. It's completely different."