Keep it Secret [Aurin]

[Torin Kilvin]

30th Glade, 123

For some time Torin had been considering how to assist his master in his work. The burly smith kept an eye (and an ear, and a Semblance rune) out for anything that might be of use to his man, but a great many of the secrets he was privy too were either not of use (being ideas associated with the creation of Runeforged objects) or else he was bound by oaths not to reveal.

Occasional tidbits did filter into his shop, and Timon too knew to keep alert for snatches of conversation between the nobles and merchants who came into the shop to make orders. The area in which they lived was filled with a wide variety of folk, and they passed on what might be of interest, but, still, it didn't feel like enough. Aurin aided Kilvin's Forge, and Kilvin himself, in so many things, business related and otherwise.

So, when Torin, in his studies, came across a schematic for a book that kept secrets, he was intrigued. Upon further exploration he resolved to do as he had done with most of the things he found interesting and decided to try his hand at making: he recreated the schematic and adjusted it.

A book that kept secrets was a useful thing, one that never ran out of pages that no one would be able to tell was magical, was more useful still. He knew that he should explain his idea to Aurin, in case the clever fox had any additional suggestions. Excitedly he waited until the next time they would be together, and, when his man arrived, it was quite obvious on his face, and even more so in his aura.

Timon warned Aurin when the man walked into the shop, that Torin had a new project that he was obviously dying to discuss, then got back to his studies in the fascinating subject of international finance.

[Aurin]

"Thanks, little man," he said, ruffling Timon's hair as he passed. It was a graduation from kid, but of course, he was still fucking with the kid. Breezing past like he owned the place - or perhaps it was just the level of confidence he exuded - Timon was soon left to his macroeconomics.

When he walked into the forge, the sight of Torin nearly broke his heart with joy. This wunderkind of his craft, this kind and beautiful young man, saw Aurin and not only accepted him with all his ragged, razor-edged faults, but loved him, cherished him, and worshiped him. The fox had been put on a pedestal before, usually unearned, often the result of some clever deception and manipulation. This was different, and it was more than he deserved.

Even so, that pure rush of emotion was easily transmuted into lust. Often, it was difficult not to take Torin when there were other priorities to be met. There would be time enough for that, though. Even without his sembling trick, he could tell that Torin wanted to share whatever idea he had.

Aurin gave Torin a rib-bending hug, then crooked his finger. He took a seat where he normally sat when watching Torin work, or when waiting to offer what aether he could. It was his comfortable space within Torin's little world, and he pulled Torin down into his lap.

"Tell me, boy. You look ready to piss yourself."

He smirked, but the teasing had no teeth. If ever Torin doubted his own genius with aether manipulation, Aurin was there to correct him. Torin knew by now that his talent and his ideas were just more things for which Aurin adored him. The ginger's one concession to desire was to slip his hands up under Torin's shirt, the better to pet strong, hard-earned muscles and - thankfully - a bit of substance to support them.

[Torin Kilvin]

Torin lit up when Aurin was near, he loved each member of his littler found family but none of them would have denied that, when the flame-haired fox walked into a room, the smith looked like a hearth catching light. The hug was returned, Torin loving how solid Aurin was in his arms, how real he himself felt when they were pressed close. But it was true, however much he might have once objected to the metaphor, he was bursting to tell of his studies.

The place that was Aurin's to sit was specifically sturdy, and the younger man now trusted that he wasn't going to crush the older one by sitting on him, so when he was pulled down he simply twisted a little so he was straddling and they were facing each other. It was nicer to talk when he could properly see the copper eyes taking in his meaning. Not even the soft draw of his master's pretty mouth or the warm hand sliding against his skin could distract him as he launched into his explanation. His only concession to their position was to place one hand on Aurin's shoulder to both steady himself and because he wanted to rub at the muscles therein to keep himself from gesturing too much and either unbalancing himself to smacking the other man by accident.

It took a little while, because he felt like he needed to explain what he'd actually been studying, and how he'd stumbled across several other promising ideas but just glossed over them briefly before getting to the heart of his discovery. He could make a book that only Aurin's eyes could read, that would never run out of pages, that would seem perfectly ordinary to anyone else. A Book of Secrets.

Here he paused, waiting for approval or interesting, adding only,

"I thought, for your business?"

[Aurin]

People thought Aurin was a slut and he certainly could be, but as much as he had learned to master his vices, he was able to have a beautiful man straddling him and quash his arousal. Torin was talking business, at least, how his genius could be put to good use for Aurin's business. That was deadly serious. Time with Torin, as well as his ability to sense the patterns of his work, helped him understand a runeforger's work better than most, especially given Aurin couldn't do it himself. It took a few moments for his mind to process it all, but eventually, it came down to...

"...a little black book."

Aurin laughed.

"Aye, that could come in handy. A place to keep track of things without fear of any eyes but mine seeing it." He considered. "Of course, a Mesmer could still crack me open, I suppose. But aye, that could be good for business, my boy."

He grinned, admiring. "What do you need?"

It was rather silly, really, but Aurin paid Torin for his contributions to Portions for Foxes and Torin paid Aurin for his contributions to his runeforge. Renault still helped with some of the wards, but Aurin could as well, and he had the trick of illusions that he was only too happy to work for Torin's benefits. Following the money was important. Timon understood even if Torin didn't; in fact, Aurin considered eventually pulling the little man into Portions for Foxes as a numbers man, the better to teach him how the shadier sort of thing worked. Though he teased him, he gauged the lad's charisma and knew it would be formidable when he came into his own.

[Torin Kilvin]

Aurin called Torin a slut, often, to their mutual appreciation. If the redhead had been intent on turning him on it would have been an inevitability but, as he was not, there was nothing that could keep the enthusiasm from him as he explained his work.

"I don't think I actually need help with this one." He mused, going through the schematic again in his head, "I'll need a good sized Mnemonosyte, but there are still several left from what we found."

No more was said about the cache of dragonshards that had been found beneath the house. The pair spoke about the hidden compartment as rarely as possible, references to it being vague in similar ways. Some secrets lost all value if they were known, or known more widely.

"Other than that, and the basic physical materials I'll need Semblance, for the inverting of the magic but also for the enchantment on the book itself." He ticked a finger off with one hand onto the other as he listed the types of magic he would use,

"There will be a great deal of Scrivening to go into it, but I can manage that now as well." It had been a year since he'd begun to study the magic of the written, and while that wasn't a terribly long time by the standards of such things, his growing knowledge of aether manipulation as a whole, combined with his mastered Semblance rune and an excellent teacher in Kala Leukos meant he was heading into the home stretch of mastery there too.

The smith thought for a moment, trying to make sure he hadn't forgotten anything before he slightly rolled his eyes at himself as he added,

"And the Runeforging, of course."

It wasn't often that Torin could make such complex items all on his own, and while he was happy to employ Aurin, Sivan and Renault too subsidize the magic he had at his disposal it was also really nice to be able to control every aspect of a project, start to finish. Such creations felt more real, somehow, in his head, almost as if he was creating a living thing, he could feel them singing out to him in quiet harmony when he'd had them just exactly right. The pendants he'd made on his own for the two of them were such an item; even embedded inside the larger pendants that now connected the Portions for Foxes members, he could feel the gentle hum of them.

[Aurin]

A bemused smile played upon Aurin's face as he listened to Torin work out an outline of this project he wanted to do for his master. He was unaware of any other business that had a genius runeforger working for it, and while Aurin didn't believe that safe existed, his anxieties about his people were certainly lessened for having many tools and defenses at their fingertips, courtesy of Kilvin's Forge.

The contents of the basement were well known to him. He kept a strict tally on it, stricter even that Torin. Aurin often kept things down there until they needed to be passed along.

"So..." he drawled slowly, dangerously. His rough hands moved higher up his boy's flanks, thumbs brushing his nipples. "You don't need me anymore...?"

There was a fire in his eyes, the normal hearth-fire warmth when regarding Torin smoldering into something more, something familiar but decidedly different. The smith would become quite aware that he was straddling Aurin's lap. As much as he disciplined the smith when he erred, he enjoyed rewarding him for work well done, and Torin always seemed to be thinking of ways he might be useful, both to the man and to the business.

This fox liked his portions hot and frequent.

[Torin Kilvin]

Torin did not keep an overly strict accounting of what was kept in the tiny, secret basement room. He kept some coin within, in case of emergency needs that did not allow a visit to the guild of coins, and any materials for his work that constituted easily portable wealth. Mostly this meant dragonshards, but there were times when he kept gold, silver, or other precious metals, and rarely, gemstones there. He expected what he put into the space to be there when he came for it and, as that had always proven the case, he wasn't one to count each coin or check to make sure that his cash of dragonshards were all accounted for.

The dangerous tone that Aurin's voice took on was not interpreted as other kinds of danger were, not by Torin, not anymore. His instincts picked it up as seduction, a specific kind of seduction that sent a chemical cocktail from his brain down through his body causing a response that was quick, if not instant. By the time he felt warm, familiar thumbs brushing against sensitive skin he was already beginning to drift from work mode into play mode.

"Always." He answered without thinking, projecting the word through his aura, only realizing he'd spoken when he heard his own voice. "I always need you."

'Need' was emphasized by a shifting of hips, an adjustment of weight so he wasn't simply perched on Aurin like a chair any longer, but was now resting his body fully. The flare of fire spread from the redhead to the blond like a spark moving through a dry forest. With a little smile that bordered on teasing he added,

"It might be helpful if all my concentration was on you when I begin the work, to ensure that only you are ever in control of the book..."

Grinding down, slowly and carefully, but not lightly, he leaned in till they were kissing.

[Aurin]

Aurin made an approving growl that vibrated through their locked lips. When he came up for air, he wondered aloud, "And how will I ensure that I have the entirety of your attention when you start the work?"

He wouldn't have minded Torin having nominal access to the book's interior. If there were things he didn't want Torin to know, a simple spoken interdict would prevent it. He had faith in Torin's obedience. But Torin could be twisted by a Mesmer, and so it was probably wise to make it an artefact entirely at Aurin's disposal. Later, he would ask about a failsafe - should he die, he would want his secrets to pass unto someone. Perhaps Rivin, whom he was molding into quite the little spy.

There were times when he came in, pushed Torin down, yanked at his trousers, and had his way with him. Today could be one of those days, but he seemed content for the moment to leave clothes on and tease as much as he gave away kisses and breath. But perhaps he would draw things out, only to leave Torin full of his master's aura and seed to begin his work on the book. His body would remember even as his mind shifted into creation rather than recreation.

Mists, this was the place where they procreated - joining their aether in the creation of Torin's wonders. The artefacts were like their children, marked with their signatures, sent into the world sometimes to find their places.

Short nails trailed down Torin's bare back like a predator's claws, though this was light and teasing, and didn't draw blood.

[Torin Kilvin]

The smith intended to suggest that there be a safeguard built in so that Aurin could grant someone else the ability to read the book. There were lots of options for this, as simple as having the book stay active for a set period of time after its master initially opened it, so have the ability to set temporary pass phrases that could only be used once. The possibilities were many, and combinations of them were nearly endless, but Torin was distracted at the moment, rather significantly, so he had forgotten his intention. He would remember later, and the book would take almost half a season to create, so there was time.

"This..." The burly boy had to clear his throat to continue, "This is working rather well." He ground down again, situating himself so that, if they hadn't had the convenience (or inconvenience) of clothing they would have been in danger of a deeper physical intimacy. Even as the majority of his mind was taken up by lusted chemical cocktail the part that was, more or less, always thinking about runecrafting was stirring with new ideas.

That he an idea had occurred to him was immediately obvious on both his face and his aura as it shifted from how it pulsed when he wanted sex to how it did when he wanted his work with nearly the same level of passion. He didn't stop the small movements he'd begun, but he did pull his mind together enough to answer the question he'd been asked more fully.

"Actually, if you were able to be here when I work on it, at least some of the time, when I add the major aetheric components, set the significant Scrivening into the binding, I might be able to incorporate your aura, a sense of you yourself into it instead of using your blood or your voice, both of which could, theoretically be faked."

This idea, both new and exciting was enough to pull the smith to his feet so he could move over to his runeforge bench, where he kept his book of schematics. He'd considered putting a concealment on this book, but in the end had decided that he'd rather someone steal his ideas than risk that they be lost.

Torin began humming softly as he bent over, not even taking the time to sit as he used a charcoal pencil to make notes,

"I think it could work..." Turning back to Aurin the expression on his face was one of Glade, of blooming, of growth. "If I could do this it could mean..." Ideas spun behind his eyes so intently that, as open as his aura was to Aurin, they could be seen.

[Aurin]

Aurin could feel the blood diverting back to Torin's brain, and he just laughed quietly as the smith began to talk about the project. Thankfully, the burly boy didn't trip over his third leg, and Aurin just admired the sight of him from behind as he practically bounced with excitement, trying to scrawl his ideas in charcoal and parchment so he wouldn't forget any details when the time came to craft them out of aether and parchment and leather.

If he was left wanting, it didn't bear interruption of the genius mid-inspiration. Torin's love and lust were a neverending well, and there would be time later.

When the lad turned to him, cheeks flushed and eyes alight like some avatar of the missing spring, they found their fox with his hand down his pants, taking care of his own business.

"Fuck... yeah... I'll be here whenever you need me... Mm..."

He would. Aurin had always supported Torin's business and his craft, and he always would, even if the products weren't for his benefit. But he loved this about Torin, as well, and it was just another bit of the boy to meditate upon while pleasuring himself. Even as Torin opened his aura for the express purpose of sharing his idea, Aurin wasn't dissuaded. He was, after all, a bad man. Some might even call him a monster, those who met him under the correct circumstances.

Aurin leered.

"Get to work, boy," he growled. "Don't mind me..."

fin.