Griffin makes a withdrawal of power in preparation for dealing with Julian.

Word Count: 6653

Content Warnings: Blood, feeding, food control.

When Griffin finally joined the familiar and the demon, he wore an asymmetrical white linen shirt and black drop crotch pants in rough silk. Both embellished with red embroidery that shifted when watched for too long, delicate spellwork embedded in the cloth. It decorated the edges of the slightly belled sleeves and the edge of the low slit neckline. His hair was wet and let to hang loose about his shoulders, save for a few braids in it where he'd put charms and spell components. 

Millie looked up from where she sulked on the counter, still unclothed, and he took note of her shoulder but said nothing. Her expression went from bright to cloudy almost immediately. "Oh. You're working tonight." 

He raised an eyebrow. She wanted his attention and he understood, but he had spent as much time at leisure as he had. "Smells excellent, Millie."

She looked away and her shoulders slumped. "It was better fresh." Griffin paused as he collected the plate she'd left for him and her eyes went wide. “Forgive me, Master. I only meant that I hope you still like it. I can make something else if it isn't good enough."

He resumed and gave her a patient smile before fetching a bottle of wine from the rack on the counter and two glasses. "This is fine." 

She gave a little nod. "Shall I collect your things? I assume you are headed to the west circle?"

"Yes. I'll meet you out there in an hour or so." He then turned his attention to his food and poured Balakai a glass of the wildly expensive wine, taking a deep drink of his own.

Balakai sprawled in his chair, legs flung over one arm. His eyes caught the light, hooded and satisfied as he watched Griffin come in. Watched the way he moved. He was quiet though as the witch and familiar conversed. She had flat ignored him, which suited him just fine at the moment. 

He took the glass of wine from Griffin and sniffed it, then sipped with an amount of decorum of which some might have thought him utterly incapable. He straightened in his chair and reached over to snag Griffin's plate and fork, pulling it closer to him. He made up a small bite and offered it to Griffin. Watching his face but saying nothing.

Griffin wasn’t unaware of the demon's attention. Balakai usually watched him. He wasn't unaware of the possessiveness. The little ways in which he tested and pushed. Moved the line to see what he could get away with and what lines Griffin would hold. He was sure Balakai had watched him long enough to know that Griffin's lines changed. They moved and shifted like shorelines in a storm. There were very few concrete things for him in life. What he did not mind one moment would incite him to cold fury another. Still, he liked this game and he was home. He didn't feel like working so hard to be contrary. For the moment, he enjoyed letting Balakai move around his world. 

The witch leaned forward and took the bite with a curious tilt to his head, eyes holding Balakai's as he did, though he didn't say anything either. He was the good kind of sore, the aftermath of passion and pleasure. His lower muscles ached from so much use, and his chest was tight from all of the heavy breathing, but little more. He actually found himself quite ready to work and focus. 

"Want to watch me work? It's going to take a while, till almost dawn, and might be a bit boring in parts."

Balakai fed him. Small bite by bite, pausing to lift the wine glass to his lips for him to sip here and there. It satisfied something in him to do this, to feed Griffin even if he knew that this wouldn't be something the witch would always tolerate. He was in a particularly good, indulgent mood. There were some things that just weren't worth the fight. Right now, though, he could enjoy the intense, visceral satisfaction as he watched the witch chew and swallow, accepting food from his hand.

"Yes. I want to be there." The words lacked his usual sarcasm or biting playfulness. He didn't demand that he eat, only offered another bite. He was already well fed- Griffin had taken plenty long for him to finish. For all Millie's sulking, she'd made sure he was served and mostly made no comment. She'd hissed at him, he'd growled at her, and then they'd summarily ignored each other.

Griffin leaned on a hand, bracing it on his cheek and just ate with a little half grin on his lips, expression comfortable. He ate most of the food, feeling good for a change and ready to do some rather complicated and serious magic. He wasn't at all troubled by the clear strain from Millie when it came to Balakai. They'd figure their own thing out if they were going to be in his life. He would not babysit them and get in the middle. Both could take care of themselves if there came a need and that was enough for him. So long as it didn't cause him actual trouble, he didn't care. 

He ran his unoccupied hand up the demon's leg, just the content brush of fingers. He wasn't quite sure if this was possessive Balakai or if he was just indulging a little whim, but so much of their back and forth was a calculation of what was too much work to fight for too little reward. The wine was good, so was the meal, and despite often teasing him for being a stalker, Griffin liked Balakai's company. It was different. 

For now. He took nothing for granted that he wouldn't change his mind in five minutes.

Once he'd eaten his fill he yawned and stretched, checking his phone for the time. 

"Time to work some dark magic." His eyes glittered and he held out a hand.

Balakai cleared what was left on his plate with quick efficiency, then took the dishes and glasses to the sink. There was a settled weight in him, as though a blanket had settled in around his bones. Warm. Comfortable. He cracked his neck and took the witch's hand, giving a sharp little tug to pull the witch close to him. He boosted himself up on tiptoe and kissed him, molding his body against Griffin's. When they parted, there was an easy, wicked little grin on his face.

Griffin breathed into the kiss and enjoyed it, the unhurried and undemanding of it. For a moment, it reminded him of how normal people must interact. How they moved through the world.

"Lead the way. I'm just here to spectate." The demon fell in half a step behind Griffin so he could swat his ass. He could practically taste the magic worked into the raw silk of his clothing though he wasn't always sensitive to the weave of arcanum. But it evaded his eyes when he tried to get a closer look at the embroidery so he gave himself a little shake like a dog shedding water and put it out of his mind as they exited the kitchen into the warm night, gone humid and cloudy while they had fed the needs of their bodies.

"Possessive bitch," Griffin teased, no weight in the words. It didn't actually bother him. So long as Balakai did not keep him from doing what he wanted and needed to do, they were fine and this remained something he enjoyed. 

There was no path that was easy to walk out to where he needed to cast. He didn't go out there very often; only when required to work the magic that such a setting assisted. He'd planted the requisite plants over years, buried bones and stones and trinkets. The earth here was wild and mostly untouched by the hands of any save himself, or perhaps the native people who had lived here before his folk had come on those early settler's ships. 

As they walked through the humid night, he could feel the long years of magic and sacrifice. The way the earth welcomed him home and the trees knew him. This was Griffin's home and he belonged here as he belonged nowhere else. Which was why he could not stay. The longer he remained, the harder it was to leave. Thunder rolled in the distance, the kind of waiting breath that always preceded his casting. He drew power from the world around him and it bowed before him as the master of this place. 

Balakai trailed him to the circle, going quiet as the weight of magic around them grew and the air felt sticky and too still with the encroaching storm. It made his skin prickle. Adrenaline shot up his spine, cold and bringing all the nerves of him to a high pitch. Because walking into a witch's place of power was dangerous. He was a demon. As aggressive as he might be, as sure of the magic inked into his skin as he was, there were some things he didn't risk. He'd never had someone actively try to take control of him, to try and unravel the spells of him or maybe layer over the bindings. At least, no one who had not tried to do so in a hurry, without knowing what they were dealing with.

He knew, quite acutely, that if Griffin decided to try him it would be... dangerous. For them both.

The trees, flowers, and tall grasses gave way to a clearing. Millie was already there, candles lit and tools arrayed at the center of the large space. There were no visible glyphs or scripts here; he'd buried them long ago. Only the candles and a series of vessels to collect what Griffin intended to put in them. There were a few implements that looked like wands, bits of stone and feather wired to them. Three blades; one silver, one bone, and one stone. There were several small pots of liquid and honey from the smell, blood of some kind, and a few herbals. As she lit the last of the candles, Millie stood and turned to vanish into the shadows, a black cat returning a minute or so later, tail twitching. She went to sit patiently in the center of the circle by Griffin's things, waiting.

The witch let go of Balakai's hand and this time he did not give him warning. He knew that the demon understood well enough to stay out of the circle. Barefoot and clad only in his simple clothes, he let out a slow breath and stepped across the invisible outer ring of the circle and headed to the center where his familiar was waiting. He sat cross-legged with his back straight and rested his hands on his knees for a long few minutes, just aligning himself with the earth and the power of the land here. He let the strength of it flow into him, took advantage of years of careful planning to collect the power he would need to make ready for finally Hunting Julian.

Balakai stayed where Griffin left him at the edge of the circle, feeling his weight lean onto the balls of his feet, as though there was a magnetism to the power. He took a long slow breath, then another, and stepped back from the circle. He sank back into the darkness, melting into the shadows much as the familiar had. Only the candle light occasionally reflecting off the burnished gold of his eyes marked where he was as he padded slowly around the perimeter. It was a sort of patrol, perhaps. A slow prowl. Occasionally he moved in such a way that the faintly lighter clouds caught the silhouette of him in part. A rounded hulk of shoulder. The suggestion of movement on four legs instead of two. 

It was a slow and deliberate process, drawing the kind of magic Griffin wanted. For the first hour, before midnight, he rolled up his sleeves and painted his skin with symbols and designs. Up his arms, along his neck, and he took up a small mirror to make sure the patterns that went up his face were perfect. For the first hour, it was magic in light. Then, as if the whole world resounded to something unseen, the winds came up and thunder rolled; tolled the count of midnight and the working of dark magic after. 

He bled into a shell, a skull, an earthenware bowl, and a silver chalice. Turned a bowl of fruit into the crows of his command and sacrificed them, giving their hearts to the night and the shadows. Griffin cut some of the herbs growing near and added them, crushed bone and mineral, and added them where they were needed. Lightning lit the night, reflected the way the shadows beyond the circle moved and danced like ecstatic adherents. There was a dire music about the world, the sound of the wind and storm and the screeching of the night things. Eyes watched them, vermin of the earth, crows of the winds, toads and snakes, and even a lone fox, though the predators kept a distance with Balakai there.

       It was no little fascinating, the witchcraft that Griffin wrought. Normally, he was not so close when a witch did their rituals. Not even for all his years of watching Griffin had he been privileged to watch. They were, he understood, each unique to their traditions. Some more guarded and private, others open. Griffin he'd seen to be a mix of both. The witch was reckless with his magic, reined in only what seemed to be an understanding that if he was too loud it would bring down the Round Table and others on his head who took it upon themselves to guard the unknowing humanity from those who had power.

He patrolled. It was not that he didn't trust the witch's wards- without his human skin, he could feel the thrum of them, built in blood and bone upon the land. He roamed, scenting and feeling out the true boundaries of Griffin's little domain, skirting the places where other, unfamiliar wards cut through part of the property. He stayed to the woods. Stuck tight to the shadows and avoided the gaze of the huge crow that perched in an old tree that seemed to straddle the boundary line. The queer bird stared in the direction of Griffin's circle, feathers fluffed against the wind, and let out the occassional low, irritated caw. It made him hackle, and called an answering growl to his chest but rather than chase it off, he simply slunk back to Griffin's circle. 

For long hours, Griffin pulled power. The night screamed around him and magic became his blood and finally, at the height of his casting, he threw his hands into the air and collected lightning in his hands as he laughed. 

As Griffin called down lightning, the bright wash of light that filled the clearing found Balakai sitting deep beneath the trees, eyes reflecting back the phosphorus light. Balakai was only a black shape among black shapes otherwise, powerful and sleek and larger than any natural dog, an onyx statue. 

The following silence was profound as the candles went out and the last roll of thunder split the night with dawn only an hour away. The witch sank to a knee and Millie wound around him. She rubbed her head on his leg and he reached over to scratch her ears, a quiet smile on his lips. 

"Good work, Millie." He never thanked her, really, but she'd done her work well and he was not such a beast that he did not recognize it. 

Griffin took a deep breath and raised his voice to carry a bit. "I'm done. You can come into the circle now, Balakai." 

He gave himself a breath to let the magic settle under his skin, to feel the places where it would reside until it was called to use. It ran like lightning within him, made his bones sing and his skin feel like transistors of power. He was filled with it, near to bursting, and it was glorious.

At the witch's call, Balakai slowly padded out of the deep shadows beneath the trees, changing as he came. He stopped to pick up his clothes where they'd been discarded under a bush, shrugging back into the shirt of Griffin's he'd borrowed. It was long enough to provide some modesty, and he didn't bother to put on pants. He'd never put on shoes and even now seemed unbothered by the rough ground as he picked his way to Griffin's side, almost dainty.

"Hot," he proclaimed, voice roughened with the edge of a growl but lips quirked in a playful grin.

Griffin moved differently. Alight with power and in the place of his mastery, he was unveiled for the moment in the full of his power. He had made sacrifices, changed the form of things, and brought into himself the elements of his domain. He was one called to storms; to thunder and lightning and darkness. The paint on his skin was gone, consumed and used. His gaze, when he looked up, was a little wild, the queer blue and green of them phosphorescent in the night.

He rose with liquid grace and slid into Balakai's space, a hand stroking up the back of his neck and fisting his hair hard before he leaned down the slight difference between them to kiss him. It was sensual and passionate and full of arrogant power. There was no timidity in it, nor reserve. He wrapped his other arm around the demon’s hips, swimming in the echoes of powerful magic and sharing the elemental spark of it that ran through him still. 

"Next time, don't shift back. Next time, I want you in your true form." The words were laden and full of smoke and wine, his smile around them making clear that he meant them wholly.

Balakai whined as Griffin's hand fisted in his hair, body arched as he pressed into him. There was dirt under his nails and ground into his palms as he dug his fingers into the raw silk tunic, basking in the radiance of his power. It prickled his skin in a way that wasn't entirely pleasant, like standing too close to a fire. Or too close to the sun. He breathed it in and felt it prickle down his throat and fill his lungs like smoke.

"I won't." His voice was low and breathless. He'd have offered to change then, but the energy cost to do so was enormous. Once, when he was well sated, it was not a trial but even though he felt fine there was a sharpness to him, like there had been upon leaving Faerie though not as severe. And his eyes shifted slowly between amber and garnet, like gold melting and turning red as it heated. 

"What next?"

Griffin nuzzled along Balakai's jaw slowly and possessively. 

"Now we go back home and invite Helen in for coffee. She'll be by soon enough, I should imagine, to find out what I'm up to." There was a kind of easy amusement in his voice and he licked along the column of the demon's throat, still pulling his hair a little hard. "Then, we have breakfast. After that, I'm either going to sleep, or fuck you breathless. I haven't decided yet." His lips curled into a wicked smile and his hand slid from around Balakai’s hips up his chest in a drag of nails that didn't quite break the skin, but could have with just a little more pressure. He wrapped his fingers around his neck, bracing his jaw with thumb and forefinger, kissing Balakai again.

The demon did nothing to resist the play of Griffin's lips or fingers. Just moved under him, pressed into him and fisted hands in his tunic as though to keep him from pulling away. Let the hand in his hair pull his head back and draw the column of his throat in a tight line, eyes closed almost entirely. He was only partially paying attention to the words coming from the witch's lips, listening more to the cadence of the words than the exact meaning. 

"Fuck first, then sleep," Balakai purred decisively, demanding. No matter that he only arched into Griffin's touch and the sharp of his nails and did nothing to try and direct him. Kissed him back greedily, hungrily. 

"God you're hot." He shifted close, straddling one of Griffin's legs, grinding against his thigh, showing quite clearly how aroused he already was. The shirt rode up around his waist, the pants he'd been carrying dropped carelessly to the dirt. He would have quite happily crawled onto Griffin's cock right there.

Griffin felt invincible. Magic and shadow and storm swam in him, fueled him. And he had the next threads of a plan that would see Julian absolutely destroyed at his feet. He had been too soft, too lost in the past, and had let his guard down. He'd fallen into the trap that he would ever be anything but this. Maybe he hadn't made Julian a monster, he'd been that way before ever Griffin had met him, but he'd certainly given him the knowledge and inspiration to become even more. 

As clever as Julian might think himself, as powerful as he might be, he was nothing to Griffin who had honed his power over centuries. He didn't walk about the world with it because he wasn't stupid. He stored it. Here. Until something was worth bothering over. Vengeance, putting the little whelp in place, was plenty reason enough.

He bit Balakai's bottom lip hard, drawing blood that he licked from the demon's lip with a cool smile. "I promised you madness, did I not? That you could be there when I kill him? I keep my promises. Let me consume you, and I will give you slaughter and satisfaction atop a charnel mound."

"Ye-" the word almost hissed between Balakai’s teeth, then he caught it and licked his bleeding lip, eyes suddenly sharpening, deep red and hungry and he fixed Griffin with a long look, then laughed. It was a giddy, delighted sort of sound. "Oh no, pretty witch. I'm not agreeing to that in your circle of power. Maybe if you're very good I'll tease you about it." 

He might have kept crawling all over Griffin, but a massive crow dropped down from the sky and soared past in the slowly greying dawn, cawing loudly. It's wings were loud as it caught a branch, looked pointedly at Griffin as it ruffled his feathers and cawed again. Then it dropped from the tree and coasted towards the house.

Griffin purred under the complement, knowing that power magnified his natural charm. He leaned into the demon and ran his hand up his thigh, motion only arrested by the demon's laugh and he joined him in it. 

"Not gonna fall for my charm, eh? More's the pity." He leaned in and kissed him savagely, chuckling again when the crow groused at them and made it clear that his neighbor was already on her way. She usually came by when he didn't warn her and her little coven that he was going to get up to big magic and he'd summoned a fair measure over the course of the evening. At least he hadn't made anything particularly dangerous this time. 

Not yet, anyway.

The witch looked up at the large crow with a wry grin on his lips as he slowly released Balakai, but remained close and slid his hand around his back to settle on his hip. "On my way, Helen. See you at the house in ten."
The crow flapped and disappeared up through the trees into the pre-dawn sky.

The trip back through the wood and wild was different from the trip there. They were watched by the things of the land that paid heed to powers. Griffin had learned a long time ago not to walk around with it, to store it either in objects or in the land itself. There were plenty of people and creatures that could sense magical power and he wasn't particularly interested in walking around with more of a target on his back than he needed. While he didn't exactly keep a low profile in the world, it didn't serve him for people to know the full extent of his ability to channel. Even now, most of the power he could harness remained behind, kept like a reservoir in the land that was bound to him. It was dangerous to carry too much power for too long. No matter that he would rise from the dead, it was destructive to ask more of his still very human body than that for which it had ever really been made. He could do it, the cost was simply high. 

He was quiet as they walked, enjoying the feel of the demon beside him and the warmth of his body. Enjoyed knowing that the might of him was a turn on. He didn't often pull so much power, just hold it and keep it, but he wasn't going to be lazy or make any more mistakes. Julian had killed him twice and that was two times too many. Now, he was going to bring ruin down upon the upstart witch who would dare to believe that taunting him had ever been a good plan. He would give Balakai the horror he had promised and take him amid the carnage. 

Balakai walked easily despite being barefoot, pressed close to Griffin's side. The air still felt heavy. The rain had never come as one might have expected with such a storm, and it left the world with a sort of breathless waiting; an anticipation that wouldn't come to fruition. Not tonight at least. He leaned into Griffin's arm, eyes hooded, content. 

The woman sitting on the witch’s front porch stairs was perhaps a little cliche. The huge crow perched on the eaves above her. Her hair was brunette, threaded heavily through with shades of honey gold and iron grey. It was braided back strictly from her handsome face, skin tanned. Though the amount of grey in her hair might have made some judge her older, she was perhaps in her early forties, fit and strong. Work boots, blue jeans, and a black tank with the Witchcraft Brewery logo across it. Her wrists and neck were strung with jewelry, mostly semi-precious stones braided onto or dangling from leather cord, occasionally wrapped in wire. She didn't stand up as they approached, just tilted her head a little to the side. 

"Could've used a warning, Grif." She sat up a little, propped on her hands. She inspected the pair of them critically, and raised a brow. "You summoning demons now?" Her voice was neutral, whatever opinion she had on the matter kept close to her chest.

Balakai snorted at the assumption, running a hand through the mussed platinum strands of his hair.

"I wasn't sure you'd be up. You and Ally usually work pretty early and I wasn't up to anything terribly troublesome." Griffin kept his arm tight around the demon and looked down at him. "Who him? Nah. He just followed me home one day." 

It wasn't really not the truth, practically speaking. "Helen, meet Balakai. Balakai, this is Helen. She makes that beer you like." He smiled and nodded to the door. "Wanna come in for a cuppa?" 

Griffin was in a fine mood with so much magic running through him and Millie preceded all of them into the house, tail twitching as she curled around Griffin's feet. He set to making the coffee, knowing that she was likely to remain in her feline form for a while because while he had drawn magic, she had acted like a medium for the power and would be quite tired. He didn't begrudge that she was likely to find a place to curl up and sleep off most of the rest of the day.

Helen pulled herself to her feet and stretched. "Max woke up because of the thunder- was worried you might make it hail out of season again. She'd have been real unhappy." 

She didn't answer him exactly, but she followed him into the kitchen and took a seat at the broad island, propping her elbows on it and covering a yawn. 

The demon, for his part, knew he was being watched. It didn't exactly surprise him. He perched himself on the counter next to the stove so he could keep his hands on Griffin. It was impossible not to want to touch him right now. There was a magnetism Balakai could feel as an almost physical force and he had no particular interest in denying it. Not when he wanted Griffin on a normal day. Now with him so full of power, well... Balakai wasn't sure he'd ever seen someone more attractive. And his.

Griffin rolled his eyes and did his best to remain where Balakai could reach him. He liked being wanted, knew that he was resplendent with magic and control and might. Helen would be bursting with questions that she wouldn't ask, not in front of Balakai, and that kind of tickled him too. He'd not brought anyone to the house while he'd known her so this was unusual for him in her viewing. Really, it was unusual period. He was secretive about his home, the place where he kept his true secrets and his power. 

"I only did that like once, and I've apologized a million times. I know she's-" And he stopped. He liked his neighbors as much as he liked anyone. Owed them a certain debt, even, which he'd paid with leasing them the land on which their brewery sat. He liked the youngest of the trio of witches and he didn't really think Max was crazy. He knew she struggled, but that didn't make her crazy and he was careful about the use of that word, especially around Helen. She might look laid back, but she would make his life difficult for the sake of her little family. "I've been more careful since then, I promise."

He turned and set a cup and the French press down in front of her, moving over to the refrigerator to fetch cream in case she wanted it, and snagged the sugar bowl on his way by.
Helen flapped a hand slightly. 

"I know, and she knows, it still makes her nervous. It's why I asked you to warn us if you're calling up big power. I'm guessing you were a little distracted." Her tone didn't make it a question, and the corner of her mouth quirked up in a little smirk as she took the coffee from him, making it heavy with cream and sugar.

"Besides me, what do you want for breakfast?" Griffin asked the demon with a saucy smile before his gaze travelled back to Helen. "You staying a minute?" 

She shook her head slightly. "No, I've got work to do. Just wanted to make sure you weren't doing anything you were going to regret."

Balakai caught the taller man by the hips as he came back in reach and tugged him between his knees as he could grind against him and lean up to nip his throat. 

"Don't much care. Something with meat," he purred against his skin. 

There was a smothered snort from their guest.

Griffin shook his head at the little growl from Balakai, not at all fussed. He'd guessed what it might cost him when he had decided to call up so much power. 

"Oh I regret plenty of things. I won't regret this, though. Just making a little withdrawal from the bank. Speaking of which, I'd keep out of the West circle till after the new moon. The link will linger for a few days after I leave and I don't want anyone to get hurt." And them, he didn't. The trio were fun and they all worked magic together on occasions when there was a need for more of them. He wasn't a part of their coven and they'd never asked, but they looked after his land when he was gone, and in return he looked after them.

"I'm gonna be back for a few weeks once I finish this thing in Boston. You ladies want to do dinner at some point?"

"Alright, we'll keep out. Didn't have any plans. Ally doesn't like using your circles anyway." She flipped her braid back over her shoulder. "Dinner would be nice. Just let us know when you're back. Weather's nice so we'll set up a table near the fire pit. Millie can join as. And Balakai, if you're planning to keep him around."

Griffin snorted. "She thinks I'm too reckless. And play with things I shouldn't." He leaned into the demon and kissed him with a chuckle. "She's not wrong." He braced a hand under the demon's chin and gave him an indulgent smile. "Am I planning to keep you around?" 

Despite the magic that flooded his veins, Griffin was never unaware of the care required with Balakai. Just because he seemed at ease and content did not mean that he would not rip him asunder if he took too much exception. It would have been very challenging at the moment and probably would have cost him a fair measure more than he might wish to pay to do, but Griffin wasn't sure if he was actually willing to kill him. He didn't think so. Balakai would be hard to replace and he liked not having to cruise to find some suitable fuck when he wanted one. It took a ton of time that he saved having the demon at hand. 

Because he would never admit that he enjoyed him for himself too. 

Balakai laughed, almost delighted at the question and nuzzled against the hand that held his jaw. 

"Oh I'm planning to stick around." He ignored Helen for the most part. Clearly Griffin had some kind of agreement with her and her people and since she wasn't trying to banish him or some nonsense, he was content to write her off for the moment. Outside of Griffin's home that might be different.

Griffin stepped back again and rummaged through the fridge to collect some things for breakfast; eggs, bacon, some corned beef for hash, cheese, and greens. He gave a quiche some thought for a hot minute, but that seemed like a lot of work, so he stuck to his plan of a messy scramble. 

Carefully he asked Helen, just tilting his head and looking at her with his green eye from under the veil of lashes, "I took care of that thing. I assume there hasn't been any more trouble at the Brewery?"

Helen smiled slowly and shook her head. "No, no trouble for the past couple months. You are, as always, effective." There was a heartbeat of pause, and then she added, "Thanks. I appreciate you looking out for us."

"I look out for myself, which means making sure that what I value is also seen to." Griffin wasn’t used to being thanked. Still, the trouble hadn't been small and that she'd even asked him about it in the first place had taken a lot. They didn't keep score, but they also tried, for the most part, to keep out of one another's business. Chaos inclined and socially isolated as the witch women were, they still walked the line of light and gray. He was not like them and they all knew that. Sometimes that worked for them. Sometimes it didn't. There had never been judgement, just a careful understanding of what boundaries they needed. Fences, after all, made for good neighbors. Theirs was a careful trust earned over years and kept with plenty of space and adherents to mutual respect. 

"I don't like other entities working in my neighborhood, so that was kind of that. Salem belongs to me and the marketing department. You're the only other practicing witches I want within twenty miles. And some New York patriarchs here to get in Alison's way don't work for me. I need her to finish that project and not have her attention any more divided than it already is." He gave a little shrug, adding the final bits to Balakai's food, not over cooking the meat because he'd noticed how he liked it prepared. When it was done, he set the plate down beside him and started on his own. 

Griffin didn't mention that he was pretty sure that the folks he'd taken care of would not always leave well enough alone. He had done a good job at disappearing people, but there was no way to completely cover his tracks. There was a certain risk of taking on large covens and powers when he was alone. But he had never been fond of the New York families with their aristocratic and blue blooded ways. What value did pedigree have if you didn't have the strength to back it up? Blood was meaningless unless it was running over the blade of a knife. 

If trouble peeked back up later, he'd take care of that too. It might even be fun, if it weren’t so much trouble.

Once his food was done, he held his plate in his hand and leaned his back against the counter next to Balakai, shoulder bumping that of the demon. It was a casual comfort between them that Griffin didn't even seem aware he'd adopted.

Helen frowned a little and sipped the last of her coffee as they ate. "She's almost finished- you know how Ally is. Once a project has its hooks in her, she doesn't like to put it off. And now that she's not worried about family drama, it's been much easier. You let us know if any of that trouble comes back on you, ok?" 

She rinsed out her empty mug and headed for the front door. "I've got work to do- try not to get into more trouble than you can handle, Summerville."

"Oh I plan on it," Griffin answered with a wicked grin, eyes bright, as he raised his fork in salute and watched her go. He finished his food and set down his plate, not bothering to clean up. Millie would see to it when she woke. That was her job. Now, he could feel the pull of magic and want and he slid between Balakai's knees, running his hands up his legs and under the shirt of his that only offered a little bit of modesty.

In a surprising show of restraint and patience, Balakai hadn't bothered Griffin as he ate. His smile grew positively cheshire when the witch moved in front of him, knees opening in blatant invitation as he scooted to the edge of the counter and wound his fingers in Griffin's hair for purchase, hips moving to push himself into Griffin's hands. "I think this is the part where you fuck me silly," he purred, "Or did I mishear you?"

Griffin leaned in and kissed him, fingers digging into skin and kneading the flesh under them. 

"You most certainly did not," he answered in a breathy voice when at last he drew back for breath as his lungs finally screamed too loud in need of breath.

Balakai hooked his legs around his hips, pinning them together so he could grind against him with a moan that was no quiet thing. Kissed him back with will and hunger, tried to chase his lips when he pulled away even though he was just as breathless. 

"Good."