This additional scene takes place immediately after LaCroix confronted the young Hitler, intending to bring him across, only to realize the magnitude of evil potential was beyond anything even he could warrant. LC returned to his seat, to find a very upset Nicholas waiting.
Lost in thought, LaCroix wove his way back to his seat, carefully stepping around the many passengers that had oozed onto the aisle floor. The young German soldier contained more evil then even he thought possible, with a malignancy he couldn't quite comprehend. Settling back down onto the cramped place next to Nicholas, LaCroix failed to notice the fire of emotions barely contained by his son.
"Well?!" snapped Nicholas with a surprising vehemence, distracting LaCroix from his preoccupation with trying to adjust his clothing into a comfortable position.
LaCroix's tone exuding boredom, he responded, "Well ... what, Nicholas? Oh, you mean our Corporal friend. You needn't concern yourself. He's quite safe."
Nicholas's hand came down to grab the top of his master's thigh, clutching it much tighter than necessary to gain the elder's attention. "We need to talk, LaCroix. Now. Alone," he demanded in a whisper spat through clenched teeth.
The man's eyes slowly wandered up, then down the younger vampire, whose eyes glittered with a golden hue. "My, my, Nicholas, this jealousy of yours is quite amusing." A grin lifting the corners of his full lips, LaCroix gently peeled Nicholas's fingers from his leg.
"I am not jealous!" Nick stood abruptly and glared down at his master, whose entertained smile infuriated him further. "Come on! It's too crowded and noisy here." Stepping into the aisle, he ordered, "And get your coat."
"Yes, Nicholas," LaCroix replied with deceptive meekness, enjoying this forcefulness of his son. "But remind me. It was you who made our traveling arrangements, was it not?" He rose to follow Nick back down the walkway.
"I told you, it was the best I could do under the circumstances." Nicholas strode quickly through the car, ending further conversation.
LaCroix sauntered behind, the smile still playing along his mouth. "This has become a most interesting excursion," he mused into the air, careful not to lose sight of the retreating blond figure. Grin widening, he watched the determination of the young man. "I may have to show interest in others more often." With that he hastened his pace slightly.
LaCroix caught up with Nicholas, who waited at the rear railing of the car. Cold, stinging wind whipped a flurry of scattered snowflakes around the pair. Nicholas slid his flask into the breast pocket of his long wool coat, as, with tousled hair blowing furiously, he turned to face the ominous, silent man behind him.
"Well, Nicholas, what is so important that we need to discuss it here?" LaCroix pulled his outer covering closer around him. "I'm losing my patience, dear child. I would rather spend the remainder of this journey in my crowded seat, than out here among the stars and fresh air."
Nick haughtily turned away and in an instant was standing at the entrance of the next train compartment, labeled 'Baggage.' He easily opened the locked door and stepped inside.
"That boy can be so trying at times," LaCroix muttered to himself. He bridged the distance between the two cars, their wheels clacking loudly in their night's travels.
Shutting the door as he stepped inside, LaCroix could not readily spot his son. Though the light was adequate for his eyes, the compartment was filled with dozens of boxes and crates of varying sizes, all bound precariously to each other and the walls. They rocked unsteadily to the movement of the train.
Nick emerged from behind one of the towers of luggage, having removed his coat. His eyes shining a dull gold, he asked coldly, "How could you honestly have considered bringing him across? And flaunting yourself in front of him like that. The man is a monster, an abomination, yet you played with him as if he were some new toy!" The glow from his shadowy face grew slightly brighter.
"Nicholas, he is just a mortal. Don't we all 'play' with them?" LaCroix stayed near the doorway, finding it difficult to sort his son's jumbled emotions and unsure which the youngster might choose to call on next. A messy vampire fight would be highly inconvenient.
"Very well for you to say! But you spent a damn long time enthralled by that particular mortal!" Unexpectedly, LaCroix found himself quite firmly pressed back against a swaying wall of crates, with a very enraged Nicholas pressed equally firmly against him. The gold now burned hot in his protege's eyes. "You had me sitting there like a bloody fool for hours, as you indulged every whim of that disgusting soldier."
"Why, my dear boy, this mood suits you, I think. I must make you jealous more often." LaCroix made no attempt to move, savoring this new Nicholas.
The younger vampire, unfazed by the sarcastic remark, pushed harder into LaCroix, growling, "Shut up, old man! You've ignored and teased me enough tonight." Though not so savagely as to destroy the cloth, Nicholas tore open his master's long coat and vest. Once again he pressed along the length of the trapped man, reaching up to crush his lips with a hungry kiss. His tongue forced itself into the other's mouth, fangs grazing teeth. Without ceremony, Nick reached around the slim waist to hook his fingers into LaCroix's back. He ground a very evident firmness into the taller man's thigh, rubbing suggestively.
Breaking away briefly from the not unwelcome kiss, LaCroix realized he needed to calm his son down, lest the other truly lose control. "My dear one," he murmured, "I've not seen you behave like this in quite some time. Not that I disapprove, mind you, but your fears are unwarranted. I could never find someone to replace you."
"I told you to be quiet," Nicholas reminded him fiercely, though the tint in his eyes reduced in intensity. His mouth sought out LaCroix's again, with more passion than desperation this time, pausing occasionally to explore the cool face and neck.
The rollicking movement of the car made extended contact difficult. After being broken away from each other for the third time, Nick pulled back a little, laughing lightly. His groin still firmly pressed into LaCroix's, his hands tightly holding the other's hips, he leaned back far enough to look up into the face of his master. "I have been behaving a bit ridiculously, haven't I? I'm acting like a school boy, dragging you out here for a tryst."
"You hardly dragged me, Nicholas."
"I know, but still...."
"Your fiery emotions are one aspect of you I greatly desire, my boy. Your lack of control ... is another annoying little trait I also delight in. Now ... I believe you have a 'need' to be tended to."
LaCroix bent down to kiss Nicholas lightly. He turned him slightly to the side, holding his favorite around the shoulder. Pulling Nicholas once more onto his chest, he gained better access to the front of the woolen pants, deftly working them open with his free hand. Lowering them enough to allow himself access to the undergarments, he pushed them down as well.
Nick's freed erection sprang up to stands almost flat along the naked stomach. With a low moan, Nicholas settled his head more deeply into the crook of his master's neck.
With a finesse of centuries of practice, LaCroix gently stroked the shaft, finding a pace to match the rolling train. Sensing his child's anxious state, he realized it would not going to be a difficult task to finish. Increasing the tempo, he paused occasionally to reach down to softly squeeze the taut sack at the base of the cock.
Nicholas squirmed a little, tilting up his face to flutter kisses on LaCroix's cool, smooth neck, flicking his tongue out to taste the ivory flesh. The hand ministering to his groin returned in earnest to finish the deed.
Nicholas murmured, "So ... good...."
With a final squeeze, the elder doubled his efforts. Lust, his own and that emanating from his child, brought a glint of desire to his eyes. Through the mental connection with his son he knew it wouldn't be long. Tightening the hold around Nick's shoulder, LaCroix leaned down slightly, giving the young blond better access to his neck.
Nicholas began to shudder. A groan rolled up from deep in his chest, as a sticky fluid spurted up onto his shirt and vest, then flowed down LaCroix's hand. Burying his fangs into the willing throat at his lips, the burst of blood into his mouth wrenched another moan of satisfaction from him.
As Nicholas' body jerked against him and sagged into his arms, LaCroix too, found a sweet neck to sate his hunger. He drew deeply, almost desperately, on his young one's blood, tasting the passion and honey, adoration, satisfaction, all that was purely Nicholas.
Regretfully, a small smile shared between them, they finally pulled free of one another, having shared in the most intimate vampire caress. Nicholas ran a hand across the wet stickiness on the front on his clothes.
"What a mess I've made," he commented wryly, voice still a little thick with lust. "I'll have to change." Then, noting the glistening pink on LaCroix's shirt and pants, he grinned mischievously. "You too."
The taller man leaned his head back onto the crate behind him. Smiling easily as he wiped his hand on the already damp front of his shirt, he drawled, "I'm sure we can find our trunk in here somewhere ... although it may take some time." His grin widened.
Nick looked up into the eyes of his master, lips curved in a mirror of the other's smile. Slyly, he said, "We have hours to ... look."
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