Thread: Bats in Broom Closets

She... she was letting him out? For several moments, Mickel sat staring blankly at the door, not really sure what to do with this information. Blinking away his confusion, he weakly got to his feet using the walls of the closet as a crutch to haul himself up. Breathing deeply and leaning against the wall, he listened to her warnings through the door, wincing again at her hesitation in referring to him as a human. Gathering the strength he'd need to walk out of there, he ran a hand through his black, close-cropped hair that spiked up unevenly in certain places and wondered what she would think seeing him come out. He didn't look innocent, that was for sure. Standing at 1.73 m, he had a slender, wiry frame, his limbs and torso looking elongated from how skinny he was. He didn't have any large, bulbous muscles to speak of, although his shoulders and arms possessed a hidden strength from the types of animals he tended to change into. And tattoos decorated his body with splashes of ink here and there - there was his family crest over his heart with the ancient tribal symbols of their clan swirling around it and traveling over his left shoulder onto his back a little bit his right arm was wrapped with different spots of lettering and vines on the interior down to his wrist and there were a couple of skulls and miniature naked women on his calf, thigh and his stomach just below his flat belly button. That, added with his pale skin and the fresh, black and purple bruises that speckled his face and body, certainly made him look like a man who was up to no good. And to top it all off, he was naked in her house and he'd lied about it. Grabbing up the sheet, he wrapped it around his waist again, keeping it there with a firm hand as he opened the door, slowly poking his head out. And of course, there she was, ready and waiting for him with the aforementioned 'poker' aimed at his head. Despite his wariness at sight of the weapon, immediately his eyes were drawn to the Mdchen herself and he stopped in the open doorway for a moment, getting his first clear look at her. She was pretty to say the least but he found his eyes catching the smaller details and holding them close, curiosity niggling at the back of his mind. Her face, held firm with a facade of bravado and intensity was marred by bruising and a broken lip. More bruises were littered on her form and even with his brief inspection he could tell which ones were old and which had happened more recently. Who had done this to her? His eyes narrowed in curiosity as his gaze came back to her face and he started to open his mouth to ask what had happened to her but seeing the look she gave him, he stopped himself, realizing he'd overstayed his welcome by a long-shot. The hidden wounds buried deep in her eyes that he touched merely from noticing the marks were screaming at him and once again he felt even more exposed and vulnerable than he had upon her discovery of him in the closet. Quickly glancing away nervously, he kept his free hand up in a nonthreatening gesture and made moderate eye contact with her as he made his way down the hallway in the general direction he thought the door might be in. Keeping himself facing her, even when he passed her he backed down the hallway near the stairs. Then, thinking he couldn't leave without just one last reassurance, he stopped when he'd made it a few meters and said, I am sorry. I am man. I am just a man. And with that, he turned his back on her and made a beeline for her front door, quickly letting himself out and closing the door behind him. He released a breath of relief to be out of the house finally but then he tensed again, finding himself 'on stage' once more. Mickel awkwardly avoided eye contact from the few neighbors who happened to see him walk down the little path to her door, ignoring them as he stopped to look back at the house and made note of the design and the number on the front of it. Walking fully away from the house, he set about finding where he was and almost choked when he heard the name, Kastellaun. That was 40 km from where he'd been last night! But what had she said? It hadn't seemed that far... Oh, right, she spoke English and she'd told him a number in ' miles ' making him think the distance had been much less. Running a hand through his hair, he let out a heavy breath and trudged through the streets before finding his way out of town. Once he was in a secluded location and made sure no one was around to see him, he let himself transform into a deer and started running home. It wasn't the smartest thing to do since he was already exhausted from his previous transformations but without any money or any other way to get home, he didn't have a choice. Still, to conserve his energy, he let himself drift off into becoming a deer, pushing the form to make it's way home - and also to hang onto the sheet he kept with him - but other than that, letting himself fully revert mentally to the animal brain. By the time he got home to the family estate in Mainz several hours later, he'd pushed himself to his limits and ended up passing out on the front lawn. Mickel didn't remember talking to anyone or seeing anyone but when he woke up in his room later and noticed it was daylight again, he realized someone must have found him and put him to bed. Lying in his massive bed amidst his expensive sheets and soft pillows, Mickel thought again of the Mdchen with her fireplace poker. He thought of her bruises, wondering about the things she said to him and what could have happened to her. Was someone hurting her? He didn't know but he understood now why it took her so long to let him out of the closet. If someone was beating upon her, then no wonder it was so hard for her to trust him, a strange naked man in her house. Thinking of that fierce look in her eyes and the bruises on her body got him remembering the way she looked sort of cute standing there... barely wearing anything... her hair tousled.... Growing aroused, with an arm draped across his eyes, he sleepily let his other hand wander down between his legs. Gently, he stroked himself under the sheets, his thumb rubbing swirling circles over the head of his cock, precum moistening the appendage with each pass. Letting his mind wander, he began to fantasize if things might have gone differently when he emerged from the closet. The both of them with their bruised bodies exposed and undressed, adrenaline pumping through them from the fearful situation and suddenly coming together in a moment of fitful heat and passion. Holding her petite body in his arms and pulling her close, kissing her broken lips and licking at her wounds, making her break the kiss with a feminine gasp... Reaching his hands down to grope at her firm buttocks, pulling her against him and slipping his fingers further down to caress at her wet slit-- Whoa whoa! Okay, genug davon! Warte auf mich verlassen, bevor Sie diese Partei begonnen zu erhalten! Instantly, Mickel stopped pumping himself and sat up abruptly to look at the other occupant of the room. With a ragged sigh he plopped his head back into the pillows and groaned. Creasy! What are you doing in my room? he growled in German. The other man in his late 30s with a crew cut and ice blue eyes smirked at him while sitting at his bedside eating an orange. I was waiting for you to wake up, actually, Creasy responded, also speaking in their native tongue. You surprised me quite a bit! Who knew that your rise and shine routine included a little 'private time'? How awwwwkward , ehhh? Mickel groaned again and Creasy let out a deep, graveled chuckle while shoving another slice of orange into his mouth. Grovater wishes to see you and I am here to make sure that you get to meet with him at your earliest convenience. He smacked Mickel's thigh encouragingly through the blanket, causing him to flinch defensively. Come on! Up, up, Herr Sticky Fingers! Mickel just continued to lay there rubbing at his eyes and subtly stretching. Of course this was about what happened with Terrien and his gang of vampyrs the other night. Yesterday, he'd been perfectly ready to defend himself in front of his elders and stick it to that sick fuck Terrien for going to them first. But now, it seemed to pale in comparison to the other situation he'd gotten himself in. In-fighting and squabbling amidst the families was simple. Having rumors sitting on the wall ready to fall and break open like eggs was another matter entirely. With a hand curtaining his face and lying still on his back he murmured, I cannot deal with this right now. That's too bad, Creasy said giving him a warm, fatherly smile. It is ready to deal with you. Ugh! Creasy just didn't understand! And there was nothing that Mickel could tell him without getting himself into irreversible trouble. He had to fix this problem on his own somehow and before too much time passed. It was already a day later than it should have been handled. Creasy of course, misunderstood his hesitance. It's not going to be that bad. You know the drill. Grovater just wants to make sure you understand your place. It's not like he's going to take your powers away over a measly bar fight with some pathetic vampies. Ignoring his uncle, Mickel got up and scooted out of bed, heading towards the shining wooden wardrobe against the far wall and began pulling out some clothes for himself. As he dressed he looked at Creasy and said, You're going to have to get me a rain check on that. Tell Grovater that I am sorry but I am going to have to let him exert his dominance over me another time. Creasy smirked again but he was growing serious now. Uh, Mickel, maybe you're not understanding the situation. You violated a truce and attacked members of another clan. You do not have a choice. You have to answer for this. Buttoning his dark blue jeans, Mickel shrugged and said, I just can't right now, okay? I'm sorry. I have something bigger to deal with and it can't wait. Creasy was silent as he watched Mickel pulled on an expensive dress shirt and button it up, his scowl reserved and thoughtful. Is it something serious enough that you need to inform Grovater about it? Mickel merely stared into Creasy's eyes while he put on his boots. Creasy gave him a tight-lipped smirk before looking away and shaking his head. How you always get yourself into these troubles, little Mickel, I will never understand. Then his shoulders rose and fell with a heavy sigh. Anything you want me to tell Grovater when I go to see him? Just that I am sorry and I don't mean him any dishonor with this. When I can tell him myself what is going on, I will. Creasy nodded solemnly in respect, finishing the last of his orange. Hey... um, do you know what happened to the sheet I was found in? Creasy looked at him with a question in his eyes. I need it. After that, he was in his car driving down the road back towards Kastellaun with the freshly cleaned bed sheet folded neatly and sitting on the passenger's seat next to him. He arrived in the small town late in the afternoon with the sun high in the sky but making it's steady decent. Parking the smooth and shiny, dark blue car near her house, he took the sheet with him and only when he was at the door ready to knock did he start asking himself what he was doing here and what he was going to say to her. Maybe she didn't even remember him? No, that was stupid. Hesitating, with his fist hovering over the wood of the door, he remembered the terrified look in her eyes when he emerged from the closet and realized this was completely different from the way he imagined things in his fantasy. She was scared of him. He had violated her sense of safety in this place, taking away her security just by appearing the way he did in her closet. Maybe coming back wasn't such a good idea. But the bed sheet... he wanted to make sure she got it back. He could leave it on her doorstep with a note? No, maybe a note was too much like he was assuming they were friends or something - after what had happened, that was a pretty costly assumption to make. But if he left the sheet without anything... that was kind of creepy. Almost like a silent message, '...I am watching you... yeah, I know where you live... heh heh heh...' Mickel shook his head and stepped back from the door, biting his lips and quietly panicking about what he should do. Finally taking a deep breath and letting out a ragged growl, he turned back to the door, ready to knock again. What if she told people about him? What if she was waiting inside with her fireplace poker, ready to hit him with it? God! He was such an idiot! Hating himself for every moment of it, he finally knocked stolidly on the door, making his presence known and forcing himself to stay put. Then he quietly cursed under his breath and started to turn to run away but turned back to shove the sheet into her mailbox. But the goddamn thing wouldn't stay in, being too long and large to remain in the small compartment. Cursing even more, he flailed at it, pulling the entire thing out again and attempted to refold it... despite being incredibly anxious, his slender fingers slipping and dropping parts he would have preferred to hold onto and not knowing how to fold a blanket.