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“He’s actually closer to ninety-five. Still very young for those of our kind. When a human becomes a vampire, there’s a new learning curve, a new infancy, and adolescence.”

“And how old are you?”

“Oh, positively ancient,” Mad flashed his teeth in a bright smile. “I forget dates, times. Everything seems as though it were a very long time ago, or just yesterday.”

“And who is Lorien? Your son?”

“No. I have made no fledglings. He is closer to a ward. I was close to his maker, once. I feel a certain responsibility for him.”

“Well, I’m going to fucking kill him if he touches me again,” Will growled. “I didn’t sign up for him.”

“No, you didn’t,” Mads agreed, brushing the hair out of Will’s face. “Let me make you some breakfast again, so you can do something more appropriate with a fork.”

Will smirked. He was glad Maddox wasn’t angry at him for fucking Lorien up. Sounded like he found Lorien almost as annoying as Will did, but obviously the other vampire was like family, and Will could understand tolerating family. Or at least, he imagined he could. He’d never had one of his own to have to tolerate.

He sat down at the kitchen counter and watched as Maddox once more cooked for him. It was like having his own private vampire chef. If only the boys from C-block could see him now. He’d landed on his feet, alright. Well, he’d landed on one foot and one leg awkwardly and broken it, but still.

There was something beautifully cozy about watching Maddox prepare food. The sure, elegant movements he made were soothing to watch, as were the sounds of the knife on the chopping block, repetitive sharp thunks followed by the hiss of mushrooms hitting hot butter sizzling in the pan. It was a ballet of the senses and a comforting one at that.

Eggs were a safe bet with almost any human, and certainly with Will, whose tastes seemed to stick strongly to the contemporary masculine. Scrambled, on toast, with a side of juice and a dash of vitamin and mineral powder designed to ensure that his precious pet would suffer no imbalances.

Maddox took great pleasure in cooking for Will. It was nice to take care of somebody who needed so very badly to be taken care of. He knew Will's sad history, but even if he didn’t, the effects of neglect were so plain to see in Will’s eyes, on his tongue, and in his behavior.

His good little pup sat nicely at the counter and waited patiently for the food to be plated before demolishing it with all the aplomb of a Tasmanian devil.

“Thank you,” Will said when he was done with his meal, less than sixty seconds after receiving it. “It’s… nice of you to do that for me.”

“Yes, though know you are free to consume anything from the kitchen,” Maddox said. “There is no need to wait for me to cook.”

“There sort of is. I have no idea how to cook.”

“Then allow me to teach you. Come here.”

Will hesitated. “You sprang me from prison to teach me how to make eggs?”

“I sprang you from prison because that is not where you belong. Now. Come here.” He took Will's hand and led him around to the business side of the kitchen counter.

“We’ll make something simple. How about pancakes?”

“Alright,” Will said. He sounded nervous. He felt nervous too, when Maddox wrapped his arms around him and put him in between them, so he was both behind and over Will, able to direct his movements like the good little puppy puppet he could be.

“First we’re going to break three eggs into a bowl," Maddox purred in his ear.

Will could feel the vampire thickening against his ass. It was more of a distraction than he could bear, given he had less than no talent for or experience with cookery. Every time they were this close there was a charge between them, something that turned the mundane into filth. Even what should be a pedestrian attempt at breakfast was suddenly dirty as hell.

“Tap the egg on the side of the bowl.”

Will hit the egg on the bowl. It broke open and oozed everywhere, bits of shell mixing with broken yolk and messy clear goo.

“Maybe not that hard,” Maddox chuckled. "You do everything with such intensity, my boy.”

“You’re distracting me,” Will grunted.

“Am I?”

Will felt the vampire’s hands pulling down the boxers he’d come to breakfast in. There was a small provision of clothes in his room, but Will didn’t care for most of the pants. They were too formal or too business-like. He’d tried putting a pair on but he felt like he was going to apply for a loan or maybe sell a second-hand car. Now all that stood between him and the vampire was a thin veil of cotton easily brushed aside.

“Try again,” Maddox urged.

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