let's make this fantasy a nightmare; Vahl/Chimaera

[silvereyedchimaera]

 Who: Chimaera and Vahl
What: Vahl liked an idea he found in Chimaera's mind, and wants to play with it.
Where: The dream vault
When: A few days after Chimaera's arrival.
Warnings: Graphic smut, non-con/dub-con kinda-sorta?

Chimaera was still not at all used to having so much space to himself. The apartment above was his Lord's - where Vahlmir lived with Phoenix, Alec, and possibly a child or two - but Chimaera shared this one with nobody. Someone had thoughtfully made sure it was decorated simply, in light, pastel shades that made it impossible to forget that this was not his cell in Hell, with minimal appliances and furniture that kept the dissonance between past and present from becoming overwhelming. It had been made clear that the Edion could decorate as he willed, later, when he was more settled and ready to do so. For the moment, Chimaera was still trying to accept that the space was his own - in so far as anything was his own, when he himself was property. Every privilege could be taken  away, but Chimaera didn't fear the possibility. For one, he didn't covet possessions or amenities and would not mourn if they were retracted. 

And for two - he was not going to give his AnKi-on reason to be rid of him.

He'd spent almost 48 straight hours warding the apartment, and the stairwell outside it that led up to the home of his AnKi-on and the god's pack. Jewels of crystallised blood formed crimson constellations on doors and walls, to be covered over later; each one part of a massive spell that would wake and warn him if a stranger or any with ill intent tried to reach upstairs. The power poured into the ritual was quickly enough replenished, but even his healing abilities took time to replace so much blood lost, and required fuel to do so.

So he ate, and fell asleep in the nest he'd made of the dismantled bed and butchered sofa, mattress and soft cushions and softer sheets twisted into a space that felt safe and comfortable, as an empty bed - one without his AnKi-on in it - did not. 

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[twofold_psyche]

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that male Kayori are vastly oversexed.

And it may not be the done thing to hold one's sleeping Beta in one's arms after a long and delightfully rewarding romp, whilst turning one's thoughts to dreams of another. However, it's a kink. A thing. One that Phoenix not only understands but also finds.. in his own words.. hot.

So there is nothing tugging at Vahl's conscience when he starts to think of Chimaera.

Phoenix can take a lot of the punishment Vahl dishes out. He's strong, and as a dark angel, he can cope more and more with whatever it is Vahl is becoming. But with Chimaera - it's very different. Pushing Phoenix too far is dangerous. Pushing chimaera too far... is possibly some form of oxymoron.

Whilst Phoenix satisfies Vahl more than any other, Vahl's appetite is well, immortal. He often plays with his Beta, and goes in search of more in Al'Karingha... and sometimes, Phoenix is entirely too..

Willing.

Oh, there's the dirty roleplay in which they indulge, but it's a game isn't it? And again in Phoenix's words, it's really sexy if it's real. They do 'real' too. But still Vahl has to be careful with his angel.

With the heyora in place and increasing in strength, combined with Vahl's mastery of the Dreamtime, the god is interested in just how far he can go with Chimaera. He's made promises to his Edion, and to himself. So Vahl lies against Phoenix’s warm body, closes his eyes and starts work.

The setting... something Keldran. He's a little homesick if he'd only admit it. A shiny new university. That sounds good...

Vahl stands in Al'Karingha, in a void, sketching in the shining new campus of Vessany, one of the finer establishments of the realm of Caldeira. Not Skadia. because Skadia is full of Fae, and Caldeira is full of mortals.

And he wants a mortal.

A sweet, soft, frightened little mortal. A virgin. A blond boy who's entirely too trusting for his own good.

Reaching for Chimaera's dream mantle, Vahl moves into the boy's mind, rearranging a little. Masking those unwanted memories, shaping.... with the heyora, he can keep alive that fire in the boy's nerve endings too.

A university professor, of psychology...no, he'll keep that for another time. Galactic zoology then. A man somewhat dark and mysterious, but in other ways warm and inspiring. The poor boy won't know what hit him.

Especially when he sees the true nature of this studious older man.

It takes time, but time can be never-ending in Al'Karingha, so Vahl is thorough.

He'll take his place in a lecture hall, crowded with eager bright young things. And the jewel in the crown... Chimaera.

[silvereyedchimaera]

It's psychic, if temporary, surgery; with Hell excised from his memories, Chimaera's persona shifts like water filling a new vessel, flowing into a new (old) shape, the bred-in natural sweetness of a Naitan Edion rising ascendant. Under his god's encouragement, his sleeping mind fills with colour and depth the sketched outline of his new identity, background knowledge shared through the heyora to provide context Chimaera himself - raised sheltered, then enslaved - does not know.

He's never visited a Keldran university - but this other-him has, has been a student for almost two months now. It's his first time away from home and the excitement has yet to wear off, even though his network of companions is still small and fragile; he's too shy, and too indifferent to the driving forces of his peers, to have forged many friendships yet.

And maybe too distracted.

His crush on his Galactic Zoology professor is a hot throbbing in his chest and a dryness in his mouth, but it's as much electric thrill as embarrassing discomfort. It's not sexual. It might be easier if it was - Chimaera knows he's pretty, and it would be easier to inspire physical desire than what he really wants. Assuming he had the first idea how to go about seducing his professor. Which he does not, and just the thought is enough to make him thank the gods his teacher can't read minds.

But no; Chimaera - nicknamed for his overwhelming interest in zoology and genetics back in school - figured out his asexuality a long time ago. It makes it hard to connect to other people his age, all of whom seem obsessed with fucking, and makes his crush that much more pathetic. It's an emotional connection he finds himself craving, dreaming about; he fantasises not about being bent over the professor's desk but about those dark eyes looking at him with approval, with appreciation for his mind and thoughts instead of his body. It's ridiculous how badly he wants the man to think well of him; Chimaera's essays have never been so beautifully phrased, so dazzlingly well-researched, his interpretations of the zoological anthropology so on-point and original. But he can't help it; the professor is amazing, the most brilliant person Chimaera's ever met. Who wouldn't want validation from a mind like that?

The rings on his fingers register his typing on an invisible keyboard, linking his notes to the recording of the lecture taken by the lenses in his eyes. By the end of the lecture, his hands are threatening cramps, and he has to shake them out as the other students leave their seats.

There's still a few people lingering when he screws his courage to the sticking place and pauses by the professor's desk.

"Sir? I, um, know it's really early, but I wanted to ask you about the internship project next year?" Six weeks working with his teacher and a select few other students, visiting three different realms to study creatures never seen here in Caldeira. Chimaera has barely stopped thinking about it since the professor mentioned it the first week of classes.

[twofold_psyche]

The gods of Keldra can move among the population and mask themselves. Wearing their own faces, their own bodies, they can engage an internal perception filter that simple makes other races think they're mortal, or vampire, or whichever species happens to be most common in any given area.

Much of the time, the gods are perfectly happy to be known as who they are, but often it's convenient to move around the world unimpeded by well-intentioned followers.

Vahl has stuck to the reality of Keldra as much as he can. He's very much himself. Tall, fairly distinguished-looking, dressed as ever in upmarket clothing that appears slightly lived-in, and thrown on. At Vessany, a university professor's salary is substantial.

When chimaera approaches, Vahl has just finished speaking with a group of three students.. he's been careful to make sure several of the student-images look at him with doe-eyed adoration. It isn't vanity, it's all for his darling Edion's benefit.

What a generous god he is.

“Ah. Mister Oeiri.” Vahl is half-sitting on a functional table next to his lectern, with an advanced note-taking tablet in his hand. “I was thinking of seeking you out. Last week's paper on the Arboreal Fruit Dragon ...”

He taps on the device, calling up the essay. “Shows a great deal of insight. Hmm.” He pretends to mull over chimaera's question for a few moments. The heyora keeping him in touch with all of Chimaera's feelings. Such a puppy-crush. Such a desperate need for approval... all that delicious innocence just waiting to be crushed in Vahl's fist.

“I'll be compiling the shortlist next month, which will be posted to those who need to be in the know.” His eyebrow raises slightly. A hint that Chimaera will be one of those with a need to know. “In the meantime, with half-term approaching, we've received the Beth Gaimar fund to make a field trip to Tarenshore. I wonder if you'd be interested in studying the creatures in their natural habitat?”

Caldeira is the realm of Maeridia Gaimar. In honour of one of her late daughters, who studied at Vessany, she has set up a regular annual bursary for the brightest students to vacation with a lecturer in various realms.

As for the dragons... Ylaia Narumi's' realm of Tarenshore (literally meaning many shores) is an archipelago. A tropical paradise with many of the islands covered in exceptionally large trees, in which the carthorse-sized and relatively harmless dragons establish their territory.

[silvereyedchimaera]

Chimaera tries to suppress the ridiculous surge of possessive jealousy that spikes when he sees the hangers-on around the professor. At least he actually admires the man, and isn't just panting after his refined face... He wonders, with a faint but sharp edge of contempt, if any of them even listened to the lecture just done, or if they all glazed over at the sound of his - admittedly mesmerizing - voice.

But thoughts of anyone else vanish entirely when the professor not only recognises him, but announces he was looking for Chimaera. The student's throat closes up, a cocktail of pride and pleasure hitting his system like a drug, and he clutches the strap of his bag a little more tightly, struggling not to blush like an idiot at the compliment to his essay. "Thank you, sir." He's too pale for this; his creamy skin flushes like dawn at the slightest provocation, and there's not much he can do about it.

The professor's quirked eyebrow is exactly too much; Chimaera's cheekbones flush a pearly pink with disbelieving delight, even before the question comes - does Chimaera want to study dragons? In a tropical archipelago? At half-term? With that great mind to guide him through the confusion and amazement and show him how to spin it into knowledge and wonder?

Is it a trick question?

"Yes!" Chimaera blurts, forgetting to play it cool - and flushing worse, as the embarrassment hits. "I mean - yes, definitely. Kayori, where do I sign up?"

He smiled, sheepish but bright with unfeigned sweetness.

[twofold_psyche]

The colour in the boy's cheeks, and his genuine sweetness might provoke mercy on another occasion. And indeed similar young males have done so in the past. For too long has Vahl held himself to his own Hard Rule of harming no innocents.

Something dark had been curled inside him for too long. It needs to stretch out the cramps that threaten to make it kick suddenly and harshly, with no possibility of taking it back once he's lashed out.

This is perfect. So much so, it makes him want to reach out and pet Chimaera.

But that of course would never do.

The field trip will be the ideal kill site. From now until then, he'll set about making a fuss of the boy. Luring him in.

With a tolerant smile Vahl hands the boy his tablet for the signatory thumbprint.

"Accommodation will be provided. There's a very good cabin that was built especially for the Causslu project." A famous (among zoological circles, and even in popular culture) and successful group effort made by prominent scientists to re-establish the dragons in a realm torn apart by the Hell War.

"I don't know about you," he murmurs, conspiratorially, "but I'm getting overexcited about the mere chance of a peek at that place."

[silvereyedchimaera]

Unaware of the dark thoughts behind the professor's gaze, Chimaera pressed his thumbprint to the screen without a moment's hesitation. His pulse was an almost visible flutter at his wrist, excitement and delight sweeter than any drug - he assumed - racing through him and lighting him up like the summer solstice.

"It sounds fantastic," Chimaera says enthusiastically, charmed by the near-intimate tone. "It's got to be so different, getting to study them as they're meant to be instead of going off nature footage or zoo specimens." How much real information can be garnered from animals in captivity, really? Almost nothing beyond the extreme basics of an animal's biology.

"Do you know yet how many students will be going?"

[twofold_psyche]

There's the very faintest glimmer of intent in Vahl's eyes, as Chimaera offers his thumbrpint. It doesn't even matter here in the Dreamtime, but later, it will be fed back to his victim that he's given his permission. Without a second's thought.

As for that gleam, it could be enthusiasm for the subject matter. "Oh, it really is. Some of their natural behaviour, those interesting quirks come far more naturally."

He consults the tablet to respond to the question. "Four students, and myself." So Chima will have to share Vahl with three others. Only he won't. He'll be getting his god all to himself. "Miss Heril - she's very bright, very informed - and myself will be transferring to the site a day in advance. You and the other two will join us later."

Calculated to create envy. And of course, the mythical student miss Heril, will be crying off at the last minute.

[silvereyedchimaera]

It's a calculated thrust, and even though Chimaera doesn't recognise it for what it is - his own, real tactical logic absent from his temporary persona - it still strikes home. His bright smile falters for a moment, like a flickering light-bulb. He expected there to be other students on the trip, but it hurts something far too fragile in him to hear Heril praised so - chosen over him to prep the site, the privilege of being the sole recipient of the professor's attention gone to her instead of Chimaera.

It's more disappointment and hurt than sharp jealousy; it's hard to be envious when you can't let yourself question the one who made the decision. Chimaera turns it on himself like Juliet wielding Romeo's dagger; if he wasn't chosen, it's because he's not good enough.

He'll just have to work harder. Do better. Surely he can manage that, with all of half-term to impress the professor away from the rest of the class? If he can just find a way to outshine Heril...

"Sounds great." The warning bell for the next period goes, jolting Chimaera out of his thoughts. "Crap, I've got another class! Sorry, um - sorry! I - thanks for the opportunity, professor! I'll see you on Thursday?"

He has to run.

[twofold_psyche]

Poor broken-hearted boy. Vahl's heart bleeds for him. Truly it does.

He'll make it better with his next breath.

"One minute!" He has to stop Chimaera from darting away, to throw him his bone. For a moment, Vahl's hand is on the boy's arm. Their first ever contact for these purposes. It's sweet indeed.

"I'll fish out a very good book on next week's assignment. I thought of it when I read your essay. Meet me outside Doy'Steisenne at [the Keldran equivalent of 8pm.]" He deliberately names the exclusive little on-campus bistro, enjoyed by the upper members of staff.. where occasionally a favoured student is treated.

"I may even throw in dinner."

[silvereyedchimaera]

The weather has been mild; winter is coming, but hasn't yet arrived, and Chimaera, like most of his classmates, is wearing a short-sleeved shirt.

The professor's hand touches skin.

Chimaera whips around, and not (just) because the contact takes him by surprise - but because the touch of skin-on-skin detonates through his entire body like nothing he's ever felt, ever imagined. His pupils blow and he stares at his teacher with pure shock, pure disbelief - something stunned and helpless. It feels so good, like light racing through his veins, gilding his nervous system; his knees go weak, and later he won't remember the soft, half-choked moan that slipped helplessly from between his lips.

It takes him too long to realise the professor is even speaking, and another, seemingly endless moment to process the words.

"I-I'll be there," he manages, trying not to sway on his feet. The professor is still touching him. Oh fuck, oh fuck, what is that - is it a spell? But it can't be, why would his teacher want to elicit this kind of reaction? And it's so illegal, he would never... It feels like his skin is crystallising into diamond beneath the man's hand. He can't properly appreciate the privileged treat being offered, not with that pulsing, molten light filling him up to the brim. "Thank you, that would be... Thank you."

He needs to go. He can't remember why. Can't remember why he should care. Is frozen between wrenching his arm away and begging the professor to touch more of him.

[twofold_psyche]

It's a very pretty reaction, and Vahl enjoys every second of it. He even feels his cock twitch very slightly. Which is unusual, considering the control he has over his body.

He'll have to be a little more careful in this particular game. The sheer power of the heyora is constantly surprising him.

As for the illegalities of the student-teacher relationship, Most of the mortal realms have a fairly permissive and almost promiscuous culture. It goes on, and university lecturers are either very smart about the way they handle, it, or careers end very quickly.

Vahl can't help feeling a little sorry for them, with all that young flesh around.

Then he gives the poor suffering boy the warmest of smiles, before withdrawing his hand. “Good! I'll look forward to it. Now, hadn't you better run along?”

[silvereyedchimaera]

It's more the legalities of using a lust spell on a student that Chimaera would question, but he can hardly think of it now. Actual magic or not, he's charmed as surely as if someone's locked a mana-collar around his throat. He's almost swaying forward into the touch, just a little - when it finally draws away.

Chimaera's breath hitches, a sound of almost pain as the unspeakable bliss cuts off as if under a guillotine. The loss is - it's awful, it rips his heart out and he finds his eyes stinging with salt, no, please, give it back -

I'll be good -

It's only the sheer confusion of what just happened that keeps him from saying any of that - and the professor's warm, kindly smile, so obviously unaware of what's running through his student's head. Obviously. Of course. Because his teacher would never spell him, so this, that, whatever it was, was all Chimaera.

Oh, gods. Is he ever going to feel it again? Anything like it? He could swear the world is greyer, now that he's felt that euphoria and lost it.

"Yes. Yes, I've got to - " He swallows hard. "I'll see you later, professor."

He runs out of the room - because he's afraid he'll fling himself at his teacher's feet, if he doesn't get away now.

[twofold_psyche]

Ah the lust spells. Had Vahl not already been in possession of all the power and ability he could ever need, he'd consider that. And may employ it in the future. As well as drugs... which he has a bit of a thing for.

Of course, being plugged into his Edion the way he is, and not only via the heyora Vahl can enjoy all the little thoughts running through Chimaera' mind, that the boy in this state would be mortified to know had been spotted.

He'll use them against him later.

For now, it's all he can do not to chuckle at the way the student almost claws his way out of the lecture room.


As is the way with dreams, he allows Chimaera's perceived day to unfold, giving the boy suitable memories of tutorials and classes, and when the evening comes, Vahl stands in the location Chimaera will seek out, sketching in the late evening sky.

The sun sets late in Caldeiran summer, but the mother nebula can still be seen faintly most cloudless evenings. At the equivalent of 8pm, it's only now dusk, but the glowing pinks and golds of her formless mass can be seen as distant milky veils, making the even more distance stars seem screened, and clouded.

Dressed now in black, a casually cut suit, with only a dark tank that could pass for a teeshirt under the jacket, Vahl now looks a tad more... well, like a Dom, than a don. He takes a seat on a low wall, looking up at the spectacle that all Keldrans - bar those in the hell realms - take for granted.

[silvereyedchimaera]

Chimaera is a mess for the entire day, zoning out in his classes and missing questions that are addressed to him. For a while, echoes and ghosts of that all-consuming pleasure linger beneath his skin, especially in his arm - but even once they fade, he can't stop thinking about it.

What the fuck was that? The only conclusion he can come to is that either someone hit him with a lust spell for a joke - super illegal, and random as all hells - or... Or he's not as asexual as he thought he was?

Which also makes no sense. Granted, he has no experience himself, but he doesn't think anyone would ever stop fucking if it felt like that. If just touching the person you liked felt like that. And though he really, really wants to feel the professor's touch all over - he still can't really envision actually having sex with the man.

Is it sexual attraction if you just want their hands on you?

He feels no more settled about the question by evening, when he shows up at the assigned meeting place. The holy nebula is a constellation of living jewels above, but Chimaera hardly notices. He's tried to dress up a bit, but he is a student, and one without a particularly large wardrobe at that: he's all in black, because lighter colours often look strange against his pale skin, simple black sneakers and jeans, and equally ebon shirt matched with a tie. With the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, it's an outfit simultaneously casual and just a little bit dressy.

He thought long and hard before baring so much of his arms, but in the end he couldn't resist the anticipation-craving for more of that bizarre, addictive pleasure. One hit and he's hooked - although he tells himself he isn't, insists in his own mind that he just wants to see if it happens again.

He's not especially convincing, even to himself.

He finds the professor sitting on a wall outside the bistro - and nearly stops dead. The man looks so different outside his classroom setting - elegance cut with a hint of something more viscerally thrilling, some of the kindliness replaced by something more authoritative. A slightly different, richer kind of confidence is gathered around him like a cloak, and after speculating on his sexuality all day Chimaera is a little too hyper-aware of what his professor is wearing, of the dissonance between the clinging tank and the suit and how unexpectedly they work together.

But Chimaera takes a breath to steady himself and draws out a smile as he approaches, battling the innate shyness that is his bane. "Hey, professor."

[twofold_psyche]

The mess to which he already seems to be reducing his quarry is more than gratifying. As he works on his next steps, Vahl is attuned to Chimaera's worries, nerves, his desires. His reluctance to accept those desires.

Tsk. Silly boy. Still trying to deny his needs. Trying to deny his god if Vahl decides to twist it into an excuse to punish. Which he thinks he probably does.

And now, having given chimaera free rein in his own mind in some areas, Vahl is pleased with the clothing the boy has chosen. Smart but still very much a student. And he does like black on his Edion. He would agree with Chimaera’s aesthetic reasons for taking that option.

The reasoning for the bare arms, gives rise to a dark amusement. But he'll torture the boy for now, denying him any such pleasure as touch. After all, he's a dignified university lecturer. He doesn't go around handling the students.

Up until now, Vahl has been undecided about the name he should use. He's reluctant to use his own and mask the recognition. He wants his name to induce terror into Chimaera at the appropriate juncture. The surname Reynar is subtly written into the dream, and pushed gently into the boy's mind as if is has always been there. Professor Reynar. A common enough Caldeiran surname, and reminiscent of the Earth name Reynard... strongly associated with the cunning fox.

“Mister Oeiri,” he gives Chimaera a smile as he stands. The book appears in his jacket pocket, and he'll hand it over later on. “Beautiful evening. I trust you've been working hard all day, building an appetite?”

Vahl offers a slightly wry look, students being known to eat like horses at the best of times. Especially when dinner is provided for free.

[silvereyedchimaera]

Chimaera flushes slightly, catching the implication and feeling it choke, squirming down into something embarrassed and a need to hold himself small. To not be inconvenient, or costly, or difficult. "Working hard, yes," he answers brightly. "An appetite - not so much, actually." It's a lie, he's ravenous - it's late and he has been working all day, even if he's been distracted.

But he can't bear the thought of being a trouble or expense for his favourite professor. Chimaera would much rather go hungry than be a burden, even a small one. The craving for approval makes him minimize his own needs, subsume them into the - the desire to be convenient, and agreeable. To be good.

[twofold_psyche]

A little too much for the boy, perhaps. Vahl catches all the nuances in their bond, and here in the dream vault, keyed into chimaera's unconscious as he is, the emotions and thoughts bounce around like a choir echoing in a cathedral.

This is indeed a sharp learning curve.

Well, there's nothing else for it but to go on the charm offensive.

“Ahh, that's a shame.” Vahl makes his own sense of disappointment virtually palpable.

“I was so hoping you'd join me. You know, that assignment you handed in on the Frellian Boreworm raised some very interesting points - one that even the experts seem to have overlooked." He's animated now, giving every impression of being stimulated by the prospect of cultivating a student with such promise "I've been trying to find the time to chew the fat with you on that... and I'd much rather not be the only one dining.”

[silvereyedchimaera]

And the snare closes fast: Chimaera hesitates, cruelly torn almost in half. The professor sounds so disappointed - and Chimaera would be telling a much worse lie if he said the prospect of discussing his essay with Reynar (one that's so impressed his teacher!) doesn't fill him with an almost sexual yearning. The combination of compliment and coaxing and skillfully wielded emotional blackmail might as well be a bear-trap, it snaps so tightly - and inescapably - around the boy.

Hands slipping into his pockets, he ducks his head, his natural shyness overcoming the facade of confidence he desperately wanted for this meeting. "I... I guess I could eat?" It's hardly a ringing declaration, more sweetly hesitant question. Not quite able to believe - however badly he wants to - that he could so suddenly be the recipient of exactly what he's wanted so badly for so long: the focused, admiring attention of the man he, in turn, most admires.

[twofold_psyche]

The temptation to just press a finger under that chin is almost overwhelming, but Vahl doesn't want to give Chimaera the thrill he received earlier. He's so.. exquisite. Poor manipulated little darling.

That alone sends heat up Vahl's spine.

“I'm sure you'll be tempted once you're faced with a menu,” his tone is kind, optimistic, and Vahl turns to saunter into the bistro, confident his prey will be following him nice and closely.

Over the meal, he discusses the aforementioned assignment. Observing that one of the most prominent contemporary scientists, famed in his field, published a paper that lacked certain information that chimaera had deduced. He makes it very obvious that he's surprised and delighted with his student, and that it's probably put Chimaera onto the shortlist for that internship he craves.

Oh, it'll mean hard work for the remainder of this year, perhaps not so much socialising, but Reynar is considering clearing part of his busy weekly schedule for a series of regular tutorials.

And all the time, he's positively charming. The dream-bistro is perfect for low intimate speech, and Vahl's own voice is distinctive and mesmeric. He all but massages Chimaera with it. He asks about his previous education, about his interest in his field and where it began. He even offers some information on the origins of his own fascination.

By the time the bill arrives, Vahl takes care to look very pleased at the reasonable cost of their dinner, telling the waitress to put it on his expense account and leaving a generous tip.

“Which direction are you headed?” he asks casually, once they're outside, fishing for something in his jacket pockets and discovering the promised book. “Oh, I'd forgotten about this...”

[silvereyedchimaera]

It's one of the best nights of Chimaera's life.

The atmosphere is warm and intimate, the meal is fantastic - and the company blows all of his fantasies out of the water. The professor is so brilliant, charms him out of his shell so deftly, that Chimaera's shyness melts away, all but forgotten as he and Reynar engage in conversation that feels like love-making for the mind. It doesn't help - or maybe it does - that his teacher's voice caresses like silk, rich as wine to an already-dazzled young man. Chimaera is very swiftly drunk on it, on the attention lavished on him. He fairly glows under it - sometimes literally; he blushes more than once beneath the compliments, each one so skillfully offered he can actually accept them, feel like he might be worthy of them.

If Professor Reynar thinks so, Chimaera can't really argue, can he?

It's an incredible few hours, and Chimaera basks in every moment. He can't remember ever having so much fun, or enjoying another person's company so much before. The thought of having this every week - private time with his favorite teacher, a regular opportunity to engage with this great a mind without distraction - is beyond belief; he wants it so badly, craves the continuation of the warm approval he sees in his teacher's face. Now he's had this taste, this inundation of the drug that is the professor's focused attention, he's not sure how he could possibly go without again.

He's still reeling from the fact that Reynar honored him with all those personal stories - eagerly matched with equivalent, if far less interesting, stories from Chimaera's life - when the question comes outside.

"I'm in the dorms," he answers, gesturing towards the right, down towards the eastern side of the campus. "No room-mate this term, thank the Kayori - I can stay up reading as long as I want."

He startles a little at the reminder of the book he too forgot. "Right! For the next project?"

[twofold_psyche]

With such a responsive and sensitive subject to work on, it's a miracle that Vahl stops himself spiriting the boy away and having his way with him right here and now. The temptation teases the god almost to his limits.

“Ahh, the dorms.” He gives Chimaera a look, raised brows. “Never easy to settle and work with the kind of shenanigans they seem to encourage. I'll swear the builders incorporate mischief-spells into the walls.”

He draws out the book and offers it to his student. “Yes, the author's formal education was perhaps not what it could have been. He does have a tendency to lapse into layman's terms, but one can overlook that for his incisive mind. I can walk with you part of the way...” The offer is deliberately tacked onto Vahl's chitchat about the book. Designed to fluster and confuse. “I promised to drop by professor Luine's accommodation block to collect some papers.”

[silvereyedchimaera]

Chimaera gives a sheepish grin, ducking his head again at the mention of the wild mischief most of the first-years are known for. "It's all right," he says. "I manage. At least most of my floormates go out to party - it's worse when the room next to yours is blaring music until dawn."

He takes the book with unconscious care. "Thank you," he say warmly, resisting the urge to open it at once and start rifling through the pages. "I can't wait to check it out." He's so focused on the volume he almost misses the professor's not-quite-offer to accompany him - and when he catches it he starts, his head jerking up like a startled kitten, all wide-eyed and confused.

"I - sure, of course, if you want," Chimaera babbles a little, hoping the evening darkness hides the heat licking along his cheekbones. He has no idea why he feels so champagne-nervous at the thought of the night not ending yet - maybe because he was braced for it, and now he feels wrong-footed? But in the best way. "I'm - it's this way..."

Immediately he wants to kick himself; he literally just told Reynar where he was rooming, and the professor obviously knows where all the dorms are. Argh! Idiot.

[twofold_psyche]

The ensuing nerves and momentary bafflement are a delight. Vahl drinks in the emotions and the confusion of thoughts as Chimaera's face registers - so sweetly - all of what he's feeling.

Oh, kitten.

“Ah.. yes,” he agrees, re the directions given out in what approaches panic. “This way.” Vahl bestows on the boy his very kindest smile. It's quite all right. He's well-used to dealing with flustered students... and he knows chimaera is not like the rest.

Not like the rest.. none of them will be taken to their god's bed. None of them will feel the cold edge of his lust.

Not like the rest due to his fine mind, and the good impression he's given this early on in his college life.

“Come along,” he invites, his voice warm and friendly, and Vahl heads towards the dorms.

[silvereyedchimaera]

Chimaera spends two days devouring the book given to him, and another two days rereading it and making notes, analyzing it properly. It's possible he throws himself into it a little obsessively, but he doesn't examine the passion too closely: he doesn't think about the electric thrill that hummed beneath his skin all night after his dinner with Reynar, or the thick, nameless disappointment that they didn't touch again. He tries very hard to to consider the fever-pitch need he feels for the professor's approval, so much fiercer, so much worse than it ever was before.

He wants so badly to be worthy of what he saw in Reynar's face that night, heard in his voice, felt in his stories and anecdotes. It's a need that wraps around his bones and hardly lets him sleep - and when sleep does come, his dreams are restless, formless, snatches of imagery and emotion that he doesn't understand but burn like fireflies and novas in his head.

He finds himself wondering what he'd have to do to get his teacher's hand on him again, and shoves the thought away hard.

Four days after their evening in the bistro, he really doesn't have any excuse to hold onto the book anymore. He finds himself strangely reluctant to give it up, but at the end of his next zoology lecture he packs up slowly, waiting for his peers to leave. Most of them are gone by the time he makes his way over to the lectern, but there's still a few lingering, talking to the professor.

Chimaera's not the kind to call attention to himself, or barrel in and interrupt. At all. Awkwardly at loose ends, he hesitates near the lectern, fingers curled tight around the strap of his bag, waiting for his teacher to notice him.

[twofold_psyche]

Those dreams within dreams are such fun to manipulate. Vahl gives Chimaera tantalising glimpses of what really is. A sudden flash of contentment here, the burn of longing there. The merest impression of his god's hand closing over chimaera's mouth. Oh .. that's more an intention really, but deliriously tantalising all the same.

The poor student is tying himself in knots over his professor. The heyora lets Vahl feel every jittery sting of it. Every last little craving. His own excitement is growing, balling up in his spine, an his groin, flowing through him like spiced honey.

Will he allow the boy another touch?

Hm. Possibly.

Though first, he'll reduce him to abject misery.

With that in mind, Vahl is aware of the boy hanging back after the lecture. One of the dream images is a bright young woman. Exceptionally pretty, and she's currently engaging Vahl in earnest conversation. She hands him a tablet, talking excitedly... on his part, he listens to her, enraptured. Taking the tablet and raising his eyebrows at her surprisingly astute observations.

When finally she leaves with her little friends, Vahl seems engrossed in the tablet as he collects his bits an pieces together, somewhat absently. After a while, he dos look over at Chimaera, raising a hand in informal acknowledgement.