Alaric's piercing eyes gleamed with a mix of mischief and authority as he stepped forward, his hand curling around Eric's arm with unmistakable strength. "Come," he commanded, his voice low and brooking no argument. "I'll overlook your earlier insolence if you assist me in cleansing myself."
Eric, still reeling from recent events, blinked in confusion. He stared at Alaric, who was now forcefully guiding him toward the shower spraying heavy water. "What?" Eric muttered, struggling to comprehend. "What are you talking about?"
"We're both covered in blood, little one. Surely you don't intend to roam about in such a state since that is what you had told me before," Alaric stated, his tone leaving no room for debate. He gestured to his pale chest, streaked with drying blood. "You will bathe with me."
Before Eric could formulate a response, Alaric yanked him into the bathroom with effortless strength. The pristine white tiles gleamed under the bright light. Alaric's bloodied, naked figure moved with regal grace, his eyes fixed on Eric with an intensity that brooked no defiance. "Do not test my patience further, young vampire. I've already shown you more leniency than most receive."
Eric hesitated, feeling out of place, but the practicality of washing off the blood overrode his reservations. To him, there was nothing inherently strange about showering with another man—he wasn't self-conscious about nudity. But Alaric's demeanor made it clear this wasn't a request.
Without further delay, Eric stripped off his bloodied clothes and stepped into the shower. The hot water hit his skin, and he sighed in relief as the grime and blood began to wash away. Alaric followed, the steam rising around them as water cascaded down his imposing form. Eric stood under the spray, rinsing blood from his face and scrubbing his hair, feeling Alaric's unyielding presence close behind him.
Alaric's sharp eyes remained on him, observing every movement. "What is that?" Alaric inquired, his voice low and commanding as he gestured toward the soap in Eric's hand.
Eric glanced at the bar before holding it up. "It's soap. You've never—" He stopped himself, remembering the ancient creature before him.
Alaric's gaze darkened with amusement as he took the soap from Eric's hand. He inhaled deeply, eyes closing momentarily as if savoring the scent. "Interesting," he murmured. Tilting his head back, he let the water flow over his neck and chest. "You will apply this to me, along with whatever you used on your hair. Attend to me."
Eric's brow furrowed. "You want me to… wash your hair?"
Alaric's smile widened, and he stepped closer, their bodies nearly touching. His breath was warm against Eric's neck. "Yes," he whispered, his tone laced with centuries of authority. "That's precisely what I expect of you."
Though he hesitated, Eric knew there was no option to refuse. With a resigned sigh, he lathered the soap in his hands. After a moment's pause, he began running his fingers through Alaric's wet hair, massaging the soap into the silky strands. Alaric's eyes fluttered shut, a soft, satisfied hum escaping his lips as Eric worked.
"Much better," Alaric murmured, his voice a low, pleased rumble.
Eric focused on the task, but couldn't help but notice how Alaric's responses bordered on indulgence—his shoulders relaxing, his chest rising and falling under the warm spray. Every movement felt charged, each brush of skin a reminder of Alaric's overwhelming presence.
Alaric shifted, his body brushing against Eric's, skin slick with water. "Slower," he commanded softly.
Eric gritted his teeth, suppressing a flash of irritation. "You could have just asked," he muttered, continuing to massage Alaric's scalp, though more roughly than before.
A dark chuckle echoed through the steamy space. "Where's the fun in that?" Alaric teased. "You should know by now that I take what I desire."
Eric's fingers paused momentarily before resuming, rougher this time. "And what exactly do you think you're taking?"
Alaric's eyes snapped open, locking onto Eric's with a knowing smirk. "Nothing yet," he purred, "but I savor the process."
"You're impossible," Eric muttered, finally finishing Alaric's hair and attempting to step back. But before he could, Alaric's hand shot out, gripping his wrist with inhuman strength.
"I didn't dismiss you," Alaric said, his voice low and dangerous. "You seem to forget your place, young one. I've ruled for millennia, and you'd do well to remember that my word is law."
Eric found himself pinned against the cool tile wall, Alaric's imposing figure looming over him. "Now," Alaric continued, his tone a mixture of silk and steel, "you will finish what you started. And you will do so to my satisfaction. Is that clear?"
Swallowing hard, Eric nodded, suddenly very aware of the power dynamic at play. As he resumed his task, Alaric's satisfied smirk spoke volumes.
Eric's hands moved slower now, more deliberately, as if every touch was a test of will. He kept his eyes trained on his task, avoiding Alaric's smug, penetrating gaze. The air was thick with tension, the steam rising between them like a living thing. Alaric remained eerily still, yet his presence was overwhelming, filling the small space with a suffocating sense of control.
"That's better," Alaric murmured, leaning back slightly to let the water rinse the soap from his long, pale hair, now gleaming under the dim bathroom light.
As soon as Eric finished, he wiped his hands on a towel, eager to put distance between them. But before he could step away, Alaric turned, his wet fingers wrapping around Eric's jaw, tilting his face up to meet his intense gaze.
"Remember this," Alaric whispered, his thumb brushing dangerously close to Eric's lips. "Obedience suits you."
Eric's breath hitched. His eyes flashed with defiance, but he remained silent, unwilling to provoke the ancient vampire any further.
Alaric released him with a low chuckle, stepping back to let the water run over his body one last time before shutting off the shower. "You'll find that servitude to me has its rewards, Eric. In time, you might even come to enjoy it."
Eric clenched his jaw, seething internally. He wasn't sure what angered him more: Alaric's blatant assumption of dominance or the unsettling part of himself that felt drawn to the power Alaric exuded.
Alaric, now clean but still naked, strode confidently from the shower. "Get dressed," he commanded without looking back. "We have matters to attend to."
Eric lingered for a moment, watching the door swing shut behind Alaric. His mind raced, trying to comprehend what had just happened—and what was yet to come.
He could still feel Alaric's touch on his skin, a lingering reminder of the precarious situation he found himself in. As he dried himself off, Eric's thoughts churned, realizing that staying in Alaric's shadow was far more dangerous than he had anticipated. Alaric would always demand more than he gave, and refusing any request might cost him his life.