Strange Bedroom, Unknown Bathroom, Unknown Location, Unknown State...
Blue eyes once more opened to find that the room had shifted where Henley Fisher found himself awakening. He'd been alone this time and surrounded by darkness, he had guessed that the sun had gone down and that it would be far too late to venture out into the cold following his bath anyway. He could feel the softness of the surrounding crisp white sheets and the fluffy pillows that lined the elegant-looking bed. He briefly recalled the handsome stranger and how he'd taken care of him after rescuing him from a possible beating to the death, he had also recalled begging for release as the handsome young man stroked his wayward cock in the bath. A flush of red passed over Henley's cheeks as he noted how embarrassing he sounded but the softness of the handsome man's touch had been something that drove him into desperation.
He had never felt anyone kindly touch him before, only beatings and shoving since before he could remember, living with an abusive alcoholic had not been the type of environment for true family bonding let alone positive touch and even less for intimate ones. Henley found that he'd been a bit weak, as he lay in bed unsure of what to do with himself and where he had been in this stranger's house.
The puzzled lad had not been alone for long as the handsome young man with the maroon-colored eyes ventured inside closing the large dark oak wood door behind him that appeared to have been the exit. He seemed to be delighted that Henley had awoken once more and sat rather tentatively by his bedside, in a large brown leather armchair.
Like so much in the strange room, it had been old and almost quaint.
"Awake again are we?" asked the handsome stranger looking Henley over with ample concern. "You need to rest if you're going to heal up properly before I deliver you home."
Henley had dreaded the idea of going back home, especially after he'd been out all night but he had wanted to heal, the aches and pains had not been ideal despite the pleasant company he'd ended up in. He took a moment to look around the bedroom, noting the dark red wallpaper and the elegant dark wooden finish that had been about the borders and the floor, which had been hardwood dark especially.
"Why the long face?" asked the handsome stranger with an arched brow.
"I don't really want to go back home," admitted Henley at last finding his voice although it cracked some when he spoke. "It's not as nice as this place and my dad isn't as nice as you are."
The stranger's handsome face shifted into a rather casual smirk as he sat back against the leather armchair and crossed his leg over his lap.
"What makes you so sure I'm at all nice?" he asked, his maroon-colored eyes flashing with something akin to malice and then flickering with lust.
"You stopped those bastards from killing me and brought me here to take care of me, I suppose for me that's as nice as it gets," replied Henley rather dryly.
The handsome stranger smirked once more.
"Well that's a rather healthy way of looking at it," he remarked.
Henley had thought so as well while leaning his rather heavy head against the pillows that lined the elegantly dressed black four-poster bed.
"I suppose since you are awake, introductions would be most appropriate, you may call me Blake." said the handsome stranger. "Blake Douglas Carrington."
Henley thought his name was quite strange for a young man, but given the fancy suit, and the expensive-looking things in the bedroom, he guessed the young man had come from quite a wealthy family.
"Well, Mr. Blake I'm Henley." replied the ailing blond lad rather cautiously given the nature of anyone who had known of his surname to make fun of it. "Henley Fisher."
Much to Henley's surprise, Blake had not done such a thing and simply nodded in acknowledgment of it.
"Well, I must ask a favor of you, Mr. Fisher, while you are a guest here in this house I ask that you do not mention my name to anyone not even the fellow with looks identical to my own," said Blake with something of a stern tone. "So that you may distinguish us properly I shall impart that his name is Leopold, Leopold Alexander Ambrose and he is not to be taken lightly."
"Leopold?" asked Henley in confusion.
Both of these strangers had very strange names to be so young and handsome.
"Dare I say, it was quite the name given to him by his beloved mother, as a tribute to her own father who had been in poor health you see," replied Blake with casual reflection. "Needless to say, Leopold and I have quite a few differences to iron out and I'd rather not let him on to the fact that I've returned."
Henley had not seen it as anything unreasonable given how he'd been rescued by the handsome stranger and sought after so kindly.
"O-Okay," he said in agreement.
"That's a good boy, now do get your rest you'll need it to face the coming day." said the handsome stranger known as Blake.
He stepped out of the bedroom pulling the heavy oak wood door just enough to peek through the crack he'd kept behind, his keen maroon-colored eyes noting the slumbering pale lad once more at ease with his eyes closed.
"Night night little rabbit." he said in something of a sinister tone, "For tomorrow is another day."
Heavy decadent footsteps retreated from the now fully closed oak wood door as the handsome stranger known as "Blake" made his way down the winding staircase his thoughts on odd things and he moved briskly about his inner sanctum.
Unbeknownst to Henley Fisher, he had not known at all the truth about his rather hospitable host, the kind of truth that made one's hair stand on end and blood run cold but for the moment, "Blake" had other ideas when it came to him.