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The hand on his shoulder made him pause. He was being thoughtless, wrapped up in his own silent contemplation, and hadn't even realized it. Earlier that night, all he wanted was to get answers as quickly as possible, so that he and Ravnos could continue what they had started the night before. Now that he had the answers he sought, it nearly swallowed the joy that he had promised himself.

This dark abyss of deliberation would continue to eat away at him if he let it. He blinked away dark thoughts and reached out to run a thumb along Ravnos's cheekbone, letting out a sharp hiss of breath before he stepped in and melded his lips against the other's, wishing for nothing more than to be able to escape his duties, for nights on end, locked away with this Disciple.

The kiss became hungry, almost desperate, as he used it to distract himself, at least for now. He stopped, only to rest his forehead against Ravnos's, eyes held shut.

"Let's just start with tonight." He spoke, in a hushed yet still-deep tone.

What started out as one kiss swiftly turned into more, and with each Grendel was able to push thoughts of vampire-eating monsters and holy weapons further and further away. He didn't want to stop, not even for a second, lest those thoughts were given a chance to come roaring back.

Already he feared what daylight would bring when Ravnos slept, what he would dwell on, and what he might choose to do.

But that would not come until later. Much later, if he could keep his promise. Ravnos had stopped to say something and Grendel could barely hear him over his own desperate need and the frenzied pounding in his ears.

He grunted something that may have been understanding and fell into the next kiss hungrily, even while using his power to teleport them back inside the wagon.

The book landed next to Grendel's foot, and he deftly sent it sliding across the room and away from them before either could end up tripping on it. Already he was attempting to pull off Ravnos's clothes, needing that last thin layer that separated them to be gone, so that he could feel him, fully.

He didn't get very far. He could feel the Disciple pushing against him, forcing him back against a wall. It was not something the God was used to, usually needing to be in control himself, but he relaxed into it, allowing it to happen.

He was only too willing to allow it.

He revelled in the feel of biting kisses that worked their way down his neck, each one sending a delightful shock coursing across his skin. His eyes darkened, as they so often did, and he tilted his head back against the wall and shivered. His mind was awash with ecstasy that was tinged with just the barest of pain, but a good pain, to chase away the bad.

Dracian... He didn't trust himself to speak so he thought it instead, filling that single word with adoration and lust, devotion and helpless need.

And hope, because he could finally feel all of these things, and not be struck down for it. Not be called weak.

All of this, along with a promise. This was real. This wasn't temporary. Ravnos could have him, as long as he wanted him.

That was the power a single word could hold.

The Disciple was definitely taking advantage of the position they were in, and though Grendel could have easily done something about it, he found he was enjoying the experience too much to care. He opened his mouth eagerly to the deeper kiss, and nearly protested its end, except that he was instead held captivated by Ravnos's gaze.

He was released only so the vampire could take off his shirt, and Grendel appreciated the view, very much, his tongue gliding across his lips, aching to grab ahold of that hair, to feel that body against his, but he was being patient and letting Ravnos take the lead this time.

It wasn't exactly like the Disciple was going slow, but somehow it still didn't feel fast enough, as he led them into the bedroom. He would have been fine if they'd stayed up against the wall, but this would work too. He nearly tripped backwards over his feet in an effort to get there quicker, which wasn't very elegant, or God-like at all.

Ravnos was going to completely undo him, at this rate, and Grendel didn't much care.

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One night turned into two, and two into a third. It was not very difficult to persuade the God to stay. In fact, he was more than eager to. Each night ran wild with relentless debauchery, and during the days the God chose to slumber, in his way, lying next to the Disciple, an arm flung across him, his face often buried against his neck, breathing him in, consumed with a need to spend every moment with him like it could be his last.

But before the fourth night fell, the God found himself restless. Thoughts of duty and what needed to come next would not relent. Attempts to quiet his mind and just enjoy what he had right here, right now, were failing. Ravnos had undone him, for 3 remarkable nights, but now the reality of his station was creeping back in. He had obligations to attend to, and a problem that still needed solving.

By the time Ravnos woke up, he had made his decision. When he spied the first signs of the Disciple stirring he spoke.

"I'm going to the Holykat temple and retrieving the weapon. If the monster I seek is a Crusnik, I want to take all precautions before seeking it out."

He knew this isn't what Ravnos would want to hear, so he sighed and sat up, moving to the edge of the bed and away from him. Best to put a little distance between them now, before he could be convinced to do otherwise. Ravnos was very good at convincing.

This was harder than it should have been. Grendel had discovered in the last few days that there was something there between him and Ravnos and that it went a lot deeper than just a mutual attraction. What that meant for him he didn't know. Grendel had always been acutely aware of how different he was compared to other Gods, those who preferred to stay in their temples and keep their distance from the mortals, watching and interfering from a distance. He had always been one to walk among them, gathering followers, and partaking in their pleasures.

He was told that made him unfit for his role. It had nearly cost him it completely. The thought of it still stung, and yet here he was, falling back into old habits.

He tilted his head back and closed his eyes when Ravnos slid in behind him. He knew that he had to go alone, and perhaps that's why he had allowed himself to stay for so long. He also wondered if, perhaps, once he left, whatever this was between them would leave as well. It somehow had the feel of both permanence and ephemerality. Maybe as soon as he was gone, some spell would break, and they wouldn't even care if they saw each other again.

He wouldn't make any promises. He already decided days ago that he wouldn't.

"Be well, Dracian." There was a faint edge of melancholy in his tone, as he gently extracted himself from the Disciples arms and rose from the bed, moving to the beaded curtain and beyond.

He wanted to say more but he couldn't bring himself to. He wasn't one for lengthy goodbyes. He walked to where the book from the library lay discarded on the floor and scooped it up, and then, in another moment, he was gone.