Oriel had fled the Gala as soon as he was able to. He'd made his excuses to Laelia for leaving her but he just wanted to get home, he was too exhausted to stay and have a good time with her. Then again, he hadn't left yet. No, apparating over such a long distance with so many thoughts flying in and out of his mind seemed like the perfect recipe for a splinching. And he didn't want that, no matter how badly he wanted to leave.

Instead, he was sitting on a bench, somewhere off in the Count's gardens, away from the party. Where it was quiet. He needed quiet, but not to think. No, right now he was trying to empty his mind. Right now, he was trying to just calm down enough to be able to get himself home in one piece. But it was hard. Why was it hard? Because he couldn't damn well make up his mind. And he shouldn't be having this much difficulty with it, he really shouldn't. 

With a sigh, he reached into one of his chest pockets and pulled out a packet of cigarettes. He placed one between his lips and lifted the tip of his wand to the end of it. There was a tiny burst of light as it was lit, and he felt the smoke fill up his lungs, attempting to choke him. It didn't, though, and he just blew out the smoke gently through parted lips. Oriel didn't make a habit out of smoking, but when he was angry or upset or confused, it calmed him down. Right now, he was all of those things.

Jaxon Jameson Cole hadn't been good to him, not in the end. At the start it had been fun, light hearted, warm. It hadn't been serious at all, just a one night stand after an afternoon of flirting and heated looks and bared skin. The second time it had also been casual, but much more personal. They'd had dinner after running into one another, just making friendly conversation although it wasn't anything more than smalltalk. The next morning he'd been offered breakfast, and he'd taken it, thinking that even if things were still casual, there might be a chance for friendship anyway. The owls that followed only confirmed that, so he'd offered to go out for coffee, casually, only to be asked over to the cabin.

He should never have gone, he knew that now. Jaxon had just wanted someone to warm his bed and hadn't been able to even offer him a smile afterwards before kicking him out. There was nothing of friendship or respect or even of humanity in that. If Jaxon hand't offered such gestures before, he wouldn't have expected anything different, but Jaxon had so Oriel had too. His mistake, of course. The other man wouldn't have wanted him to stick around, he'd sated whatever he needed to sate. There was no other use for him.

Oriel closed his eyes and let his head hang back, placing the cigarette between his lips once more.

same as in the gala

How long had he been at this bloody party? It felt like days at this point. Obviously the host had not anticipated any werewolf attendees or given consideration to the proximity to the full moon, but why would he? Jaxon's kind were shunned, ridiculed, hunted... They were not supposed to powerful, popular, or prominent in society. And most weren't. He was the only wolf he sensed in the whole place.

And that honestly pissed him the fuck off.

The grumpiness, tiredness, and just residue muscle aches brought on by a night of hunting was getting to much for him to manage. Seeing all these people, with their privilege, knowing so many of them were responsible for the shit the werewolf subjugation experiments, it fueled the anger that he tried so hard to repress.

Playing polite was just too much to ask in this moment. So, the man had excused himself, commanded his date to wait for his return and ventured out into the gardens. It had been quiet at first as he wandered through the night air. The moon, ironically, calmed him, his path illuminated by the pale reflected light. The moon might have been sending the sun's rays toward them, but this light surely felt different, devoid of warmth and seemingly stripped to the blue spectrum.

Jaxon did not know where he was going or even where he was anymore. But a faint familiar scent carried on the night air. Cigarette smoke--acrid, but sweet--it reminded him of his mother. His feet led him around a corner, and then, there, basking in the light of the moon was the man he had been treated so coldly the day before. Jaxon felt the knot of regret tightening in his chest and settling hard in the pit of his stomach.

Oriel didn't see him right away, perhaps the beautiful photographer was too caught in his own thoughts to feel the weight of Jaxon's gaze on him. The seeker could not bring himself to disturb the man just yet. It would be a sin to tarnish this moment of peace until he had no other choice. A rustle of the branches, not caused by the still seeker, but some critter or such thing, surely was heard by Oriel. Not wishing to seem like the creep who lurks and watches in the shadows, Jaxon coaxed his feet into motion. One step and then another brought him closer to O.

"You look fantastic tonight," the Cole offered the words as an announcement of his presence. Jaxon wore a sad, but sincere smile (no smirk) as he stood before the sitting wizard. His height seemed exaggerated by the positions. "You mind if I sit? Join you-" Jaxon did not smoke himself, but was accustomed to it. He'd had cigarettes on occasion, but never let himself actually buy a pack. Picking up an addiction like that could not be good for an athlete.

"Was hoping maybe we could talk a bit, if you don't mind..." The seeker shifted his weight from one foot to the other, sticking his hands in his pockets. He felt terrible about yelling yesterday. He didn't like to yell. To give into his anger. He was better than that. He never wanted to be that man and had always striven to be kind and considerate of others. It had been so much easier before he was bitten. Being a were changed him, more than he liked to admit or acknowledge. Carrying the secret forced him to keep those he would have once let in and embraced into his heart at arms length--made for a lonely life. Even with the weres he didn't really fit in. No one took the kinds of publicity risks he did.

Oriel had been in the midst of calming himself down -not resolving any of his muddled thoughts, just pushing them away for now... or preferable forever- when he heard a soft noise close to him. In response, his eyes snapped open, sitting up slightly to locate the sound, only to land on the very person who'd messed up his thoughts so badly. He didn't frown, but he didn't smile either. Smiling would be what he'd have done yesterday, before the mishap. Frowning is what he'd have done earlier today. Now? Now he just looked at him blankly.

Merlin, what did Jaxon want from him now? He'd had all of Oriel's attention before, which he obviously hadn't wanted. Anything else... well, he wasn't going to get it. Oriel was far too tired of being used and cast aside, he didn't have energy to let himself get into that once again, let alone with the same bloke.

He exhaled a lungful of smoke at the seeker's compliment, diligently squashing down the part of him that wanted to smile at the compliment, and shrugged. "Part of the job. Thanks, I suppose." His voice lacked whatever enthusiasm it'd had in any of their previous encounters, it also lacked the chill it'd had earlier in the night.

Oriel looked up at the man before him, seeing him clearly even through the darkness. It had nothing to do with his eyesight, but rather with the fact than he'd already memorised the features of the other man's face. He could clearly see every part of him, and O wanted to scoff at himself for it even as he looked away from Jaxon. He was tired, he didn't want to argue anymore, he didn't want Jaxon to ask any more of him. He just wanted to go home.

But the other man's different demeanour stopped him from denying the request. He sounded tentative, much less like his confident abrasive self that Oriel had watched with wondrous eyes. He sounded put out and about as tired as he himself felt, and he looked it too. Oriel knew his face well enough to easily see the exhaustion flowing out of every pore, even in the dark. It was enough to not just pique his interest, but also to make a twinge of worry resound in his chest. And wasn't that just pathetic?

"I guess." He muttered.

Oriel didn't know what the other man might want to say. Jaxon knew he was upset, knew he was angry, and Oriel had said everything he needed to say back inside. So unless Jaxon had something completely new to add into the conversation that did not translate into 'you're pretty, let's shag' there was nothing to talk about. But he stayed, because Oriel was a pathetic bloke who was worried about the other man's clear exhaustion even if he kept his eyes stubbornly off Jaxon and on the patch of grass before them. Even if he didn't move a muscle beside to lift the cigarette to his lips again and leave it there.

What else could Jaxon possibly ask of him?

His compliment was barely received. Though, he had not expected a warm welcome. The earlier interaction had made it rather clear that Oriel was quite angry about the way things had gone the day before. It made sense. He had lost his temper. That had never been a problem for him, before the affliction. He hadn't had a temper--even drunk. He enjoyed a fight now and again, but usually by pissing someone off for his own amusement, not actually driven to anger himself.

Jaxon's shoulders sunk with exhaustion. Merlin's beard, he felt like shit. He needed more potions or his bed. But it was still too early to leave just yet. Being away from the crowd, cloaked in the shadow of darkness, he was not making effort to disguise his fatigue.

He was relieved when Oriel agreed to seeker joining him on the bench. Jaxon sank down. His shoulder sliding against Oriel's as he sat down. The bench accommodated the two of them well enough, but any shift of their bodies caused the sleeves of their jackets to brush.

"Thanks," he drawled. His deep bass was quiet in the still night. Jaxon let his eyes close for a moment. His entire body had sunk against the bench; arms, back and shoulders were limp. He had no energy to hold them up.

"I know you thank I am just a tryin' to get ya to get ye pants off, but darlin', it ain't like that." His country twang was particularly thick in this most weary state. "I am sorry I yelled. I ain't like kinda guy. I shouldn't o' done that. I wuddn't feelin' good, but that ain't no excuse." He didn't even open his eyes as he said all of this. His head was flopped back, face to the sky. His curls hung down into the night air. They were a mess, as usual.

Oriel was so used to Jaxon's physical proximity that he didn't even bat an eyelash when their bodies touched, not even in his current put out state. He didn't draw back, which surprised him because he really should have. Maybe it had something to do with the other man's exhausted sigh and posture, maybe it has something to do with Oriel worrying about that, and maybe it was his hoping he'd get not only and apology but also an explanation out of this. Hope was for stupid people in his book, at least when it came to... whatever this was. He'd never had any luck with anyone, he doubted that would change now.

When he put it that way, what was one more?

He listens as the other started speaking, a definite tone of exhaustion in his voice. Taking the cigarette from his mouth and turning to look at the man, he kept his eyes on him when he saw he wouldn't be watched in return. For some reason he wanted to look at the other man, really look at him, now that he seemed so much less guarded than he usually was. Because there was a vulnerability to his words that Oriel had never heard before, and hadn't even known that existed. Granted, it wasn't all that vulnerable, but it was a different side to him. He found that he found this side just as entrancing as the one he'd seen before. Bloody fool that Oriel was.

"You could've just said so, Jax." He sighed. "Just said that you weren't feeling up for any socialising afterwards. Sure, I might still have been pissed because if you felt up for shagging then offering a cup of coffee wouldn't have been much of a difficulty but- but at least I wouldn't have felt like you were just tossing out garbage. And- and the yelling? I can't deal with yelling. It's gotten too close to more than yelling for me to-"

He turned away again. There was something about being so tired, about seeing him so tired -for whatever reason that may be, but it probably had something to do with him not feeling good yesterday- that made him want to speak honestly. No cattiness, no chill, no anger just plain honesty and what he thought. Even if he had to bring up some more unpleasant parts of his experience to explain exactly why he was upset. He was sure Jaxon had never had to deal with something like this from any of his other partners, and Oriel would be surprised if he didn't think that, despite this... issue, Jaxon was a good bloke.

"I can deal with casual, Jax, I can deal with no strings. I've done it plenty before. I can't be a booty call, though. So... I appreciate the apology and I understand what happened, but if that's what you're looking for then- then I'm afraid I can't." He took another drag of his cigarette and let the words hang between them.

Even with the topic they were discussing, and the fact that Oriel was still kind of sore, he wanted to lean over and touch the seeker's weary face. Maybe even smooth out some of those lines of exhaustion. Merlin, what was wrong with him?

Jaxon felt so weak. His body, even with the constant training for Quidditch, always felt used and abused from his canine adventures. Why did he agree to come to this blasted shindig? Keeping his were affliction secret was a real struggle with public events so close to the full moon. Often, it felt as if wizarding society was set on outing wolves by circumstance.

The seeker could feel Oriel's eyes on him. If it had been someone else--or perhaps if he had felt just a sliver more energy--Jaxon would have attempted to seem more like himself, to not look so tired, to not let the weakness induced by the previous night show. But he just couldn't. Once he was himself again, the athlete would just claim he had been sick. It was an excuse he'd used plenty... Jax could reuse all the same stories and lies time and time again because he let so few close to him.

"Weakness ain't really somethang I like to show." Jaxon could sell this story well. His arrogance was no secret. Like the majority of professional quidditch players, the Cole was cocky as fuck. Adjusting to the monthly up and down energy that came the transformation had been a great blow to his ego. He had never really been sick at all growing up. Not even a cold-- Even drinking obscene amounts of alcohol had not been enough to induce a hangover for pre-werewolf Jaxon. Big changes to adapt to... Though six years had passed, he had not really managed to get accustomed to feeling so delicate, feeble even.

"You ain't garbage, O," the man said softly. His eyes opened and his head lifted forward. Jaxon turned towards the other man. "Yellin' ain't acceptable, I know that. I do." His expression reflected his apologetic spirit. His brow furrowed as his mind worked over the words Oriel spoke--and left unspoken. "Sounds like you've had some real winners if yellin' has such an effect." Jaxon's gaze held affection and warmth while he studied the profile of the photographer. "I don't like that. Not one bit. You ain't deserved none of that. Cuz you're somethang else. Sumthen special." The seeker drawled out his praise. Each word came slowly off his tongue. His country diction dragging one into the next as he spoke.

"Casual is about all I can do." Jaxon could not explain the truth behind those words. But the excuses were familiar on his tongue. They nearly tasted honest. "I ain't really the settlin' down type," he said, sadness was hinted in the words--betraying some of the loneliness the extrovert endured in his solitary lifestyle. Forcing his lips into his usual charming smile, the seeker continued: "But I ain't the usin' type either. I don't want to hurt anybody." He leaned closer, bumping his shoulder to Oriel's as he added: "Especially you. I like more than just shaggin' ya." A wink was coupled with his next words: "You made decent dinner company, too." His charming side was coming to the surface. His eyes were brightening. The seeker was still tired, but was pushing the exhaustion away- He needed to be himself--the version that was put forward to the world.

Oriel waited patiently for Jaxon to answer. Even when he kept his eyes fixed on his shoes the feeling of the other man's eyes on him made goosebumps erupt all over his skin. And not in a bad way. He was no longer angry, he understood now and it had all been burn away, but sitting here reminded him of just what kind of effect Jaxon's gaze had on him. It wasn't the way he'd looked at him yesterday, and it sort of made up for that today.

"Yeah, I know. Just- if you do need to, I don't mind it." He spoke, moving the hand that still had a cigarette between the fingers onto Jaxon's knee.

For some reason, he needed to touch the other man. And not in a sexual way, no. Jaxon was warm and solid and contact was something that usually put people at ease. It put Oriel at ease and, he knew, it also put Jaxon at ease. Jaxon still felt distant and Oriel... well, he didn't want that anymore.

He didn't know where or when, but somewhere along the way Oriel had grown tired of being angry at him. He'd wanted a reason -a good one, a valid one, but at the same time any reason- to forgive Jaxon, because Oriel didn't like being angry at him. He'd had pride and self-respect, and those had been the only things holding him back from just caving before the man back at the gala. 

Suddenly he didn't need the cigarette anymore, so he took his hand off Jaxon and dropped it at his feet, stepping on it to put it out. Then he turned back to the other man, hearing him speak about what Oriel had admitted. He found Jaxon looking at him, expression affectionate and kind as he spoke Oriel praises. He'd forgotten what it was like to be praised like that, with that look in someone's eyes. After how -justifiably- coldly he'd treated the other man earlier in the night, he was pleasantly surprised.

"Thanks, I... I appreciate it." He didn't really know how to answer him other than with that. Did he say he was relieved that Jaxon understood? Did he say he was grateful that Jaxon seemed to think he was worth more than trash? Or that he thought he was something special? Or did he say that yeah, he really knew how to pick them and that when it came to hurting Oriel, Jaxon had nothing on any of them yet? No, he didn't say any of that. He just put his hand back on Jaxon's leg, feeling the radiating warmth pour into him again, and offered the other man his first smile of the night. It was small and gentle, but genuine and only for him.

As he listened to the other man's continued explanations for something Oriel had already guessed about him, Oriel's dark eyes trailed over his face. Everything about Jaxon, beside the exhaustion, was so controlled yet relaxed and inherently like Jaxon that Oriel was surprised when his tone of voice betrayed a hint of gloom. The only reason he didn't seem like the settling down type was his revolving door of partners, but other than that he was a warm, kind bloke who lived off of attention and caresses. It seemed to O that Jaxon might well benefit from having someone that would always be there for him, but if he'd decided that it wasn't his thing then... then he wouldn't contradict him. At the moment, Oriel didn't feel like contradicting Jaxon again, and he was more than capable of doing casual.

He chuckled at Jaxon's charm and renewed flirting. Right. Everything had been getting too serious and mushy for the other to maintain, but Oriel didn't mind. "Am I now? Well, it would seem that your memory is faulty. The dinner we had was rushed in order to get to the important part of the night Not that that was a bad thing." He reached out now, slightly hesitantly, to the other man's still exhausted looking face. His fingers trailed a few of the lines being ill had left on his face, which had grown pronounced only after he'd stepped into the gardens. "You're looking slightly better. Almost had me worried there."

Oriel let out a soft twinkling laugh. "Well, I don't really know what it was that you hoped to be getting out of this conversation but... I get it, and as you can tell I'm not upset anymore." He leaned his head back against the backrest and turned to look at Jaxon sideways. "I can keep things casual... if you still want me, that is."

He wanted to sleep. It wouldn't help any, but his body cried out for rest anyway. Only time would right the lingering aches that persisted after the full moon. He knew this--this was not his first time, but the memory of that first one was as fresh in his mind as the night prior...there was no way to even begin to prepare for the pain of the first shifting--he hadn't learned in those days how to embrace the wolf, to accept it, to overcome the madness of animal. Now, his shifts were much easier--and even without Wolfsbane, through Alex and Ris's guidance, Jax maintained his mind as a wolf. It was a joyous night truly, save for fear of the Ministry hunters. But there was no reason to expect them in the forests of Devon--and he owned over three hundred acres around the cabin. It was the epitome of removed from society.

There was nothing more to say on his part about the excuse of not wishing to portray weakness. Anything he said further would be such a shadow of the truth that he saw no reason to tarnish the exchange with Oriel with it. Jax was content to savor the small victory of the contact that the photographer had instigated. O's touch was warm through the fabric of his pants, contrasting against the comfortable chill of the early spring evening.

He really hated knowing that to some degree by someone Oriel had been mistreated as to scar him so to yelling. Had it been an ex? Or the father that motivated him to take on the extra job? Maybe a cruel brother--if he had any siblings... Jaxon didn't know. He didn't know much about the photographer really. That was by design. Jax tried to keep all his lover's at arms length. It was easy with the submissive women that he acted as a Dom for. They knew not to ask questions.

"That ain't nothing to thank me for," Jax drawled. His hand fell over Oriel's when it came back to his leg. He offered a small smile in response to the one on the other man's face, but the expression could not push through the exhaustion to reach his dark eyes. Jax was just too worn. He had been faking upbeat, extrovert playboy all night. It was a lot to ask of a werewolf the day after the full moon.

"You are... You flirted with that waitress right along with me as I remember--weren't all gettin' upset cause I smiled at somebody else. I ain't all about that drama." He grinned a bit more like his usual self. A twinkle even making it to his eye as he continued into a more deviant line of thinking. "But you ain't wrong. Dinner was definitely just the prelude to the show we were both waitin' on."

Oriel reached up and brought his hand against Jaxon's face. He let his eye shut as the contact grazed over his skin. A swell of worry rose up in his chest as Oriel spoke, he was getting too comfortable with the other man. He was letting too much weakness show. He had to hide it better. He didn't want to end up on an experimenters' table. One could never really tell another's opinion on werewolves--some had personal grudges. Others just bought the nonsense the Ministry fed them. Jax didn't think O would fit in the latter group, but never could tell--for all Jay knew, Oriel's mom had died to a werewolf attack. Not that he knew one way or another about whether she was alive...but the point remained. He needed to be more careful.

Oriel spoke again and Jax responded with a nod. "I'm glad you ain't mad anymore. And casual is good. Real good." He drawled, before sealing the confirmation with a lingering kiss.

Oriel received the kiss, gently kissing back and moving his lips to accommodate the man before him. He didn't deepen it, not feeling like doing anything tonight. And even if he had felt like it, Jaxon looked like he might fall over some time soon, so he didn't want to. It was a strange thing, seeing him to tired, recovering from whatever issues he'd said he'd had the day before. Strange but not something he was going to mention again, Jaxon didn't like showing weakness and if Oriel pointed it out again who knew how far he would puss himself to act tough again.

It wasn't that Oriel was particularly close or worried about the other, he was a grown man and could take care of himself. Oriel cared about as much as one would about a person they only knew through sex. He barely knew anything personal about Jaxon and Jaxon barely knew anything about Oriel. He didn't know if he liked that, but he was loath to change it. It was more comfortable for the other man that way, and sharing too much of himself or knowing more about the other might make Oriel attached. That was something he didn't want. Not because he thought the seeker to be a bad person or anything like that, but because he had promised to keep it casual. And he himself hadn't done anything but casual since his last break up a few years ago.

When they parted, he offered the other man a small smile. "Well it does seem like you're used to getting what you want." He joked, eyes trailing over the man before him and then flickering over their surroundings. The low din of the gala could still be heard, somewhere off in the garden. He'd almost forgotten about that.

"The gala is still going, but I was about to leave since my job was done. I suggest you either go back to your date -lovely Romilda is alone, I assume, since you're here- or go home to rest." He pecked the other man lightly on the lips again before getting to his feet. 

Jaxon could not deny the words that Oriel spoke. He did have quite the way of getting what he wanted. It was something that many came to both love and hate him for. But he never felt as if he exploited anyone in his pursuits of his own desires. He wasn't a heartless man. He cared a great deal; his affliction just made him express that care differently now.

A wink and a devil-may-care smirk were the only replies he offered to the statement. Jaxon was still super ready for bed, but knew it was time to return to the party. He just really wished he had another pepper-up potion. He should have spread out his dosages for the night better, but truly the potion did so little to actually help with the fatigue that the full moon brought--it was really more placebo in his head that actual effect from the vials in the first place. So, he just needed to man up and make it through the rest of the evening.

It seemed Oriel had similiar line of thinking. "Aye. Well, you have a good evenin'. I'll see you around." Jaxon returned the quick kiss before rising to his feet. He was sure Rom was going crazy by now. How long had he even been out here? His awareness of time was rather distorted due to his fatigue, but his watch promised he hadn't left the wrockstarlette alone for too long--though, he wagered in her mind that even half a minute was too long. Straightening his suit jacket, the werewolf put on his usual smirk and walked back into gala. Time to play pretend that he wasn't exhausted and feeling like crud for just a little while longer.

--End of Thread--