Despite being dead, there was one routine that Blaine had to follow every morning that grounded him: shaving. He was lucky he'd had his hair cut while in the hospital. He couldn't stand turning totally scruffy, so he would have the perfect cut he had long since adopted in his mid thirties. His face, however, was a different story. He could rock the scruff on his face and look fine, but the first few months he woke up, showered, and carefully shaved and trimmed the hair on his chin away or into a goatee. It was something that made him feel human even if he was anything but.

The reminder pinged in his head and made his heart lurch every time he saw Matthew those first couple of weeks. He was pissed at him and it was betrayal that soured him on the vampire for a long time. He felt utterly betrayed and the last hope he had of seeing his Family had been selfishly taken away from him. If he were to die, what would happen then? Would it be the blackness as Lucchi had said? As Blaine had more or less believed himself until the last few weeks of hospital walls? He would never know now, not really. At least as a ghoul he had been human. Now he was not.

Blaine didn't have much to occupy himself with as he didn't help Matthew with his princely duties anymore. It was boring to be in the house all the time, but he didn't go out much. It was more irritating to go out and be under watch than staying home. So he cooked. A lot. Exercised even though it was useless, and practiced a lot with his abilities. The limits he had reached as a ghoul had been lifted. He was faster and stronger than ever. After being sick, it felt amazing to be able to flash across a room and not feel winded, to lift weights where he could barely lift up himself months ago, and just look in a mirror and not feel the grim reaper on his back even though the man had actually already come and gone.

But there was only so much novelty in testing out his abilities when there was a giant hole in his life.

The blonde held on to his anger for a good long while, but it had been against his human nature to hold grudges or resentments. It was entirely too thought consuming and a waste of time when he could be out enjoying himself doing something -or someone- else. Two months was all he had in him to remain vehemently spiteful, and most of his ire had petered down to neutral stares the beginning of the second month. He was cordial, professional, but aloof to his previous master for over a month before he couldn't even maintain that. He had Joslin and Maurice to talk to, but he was soul crushingly lonely without the elder vampire. He needed touch and affection, but he couldn't run off and spend the night anywhere. The best he had was to fuck his food, but it lacked the emotional intimacy he needed.

When Blaine heard the door opening he knew the Master of the house had arrived home. Even if they hadn't been speaking much the emptiness of Matthew's absence had been felt. He really couldn't take this kind of isolation. He had been in his room with a book, trying anything to focus his mind on something, but gave it up. He swung his feet out of bed and stood, crossing the floor and walking out of his room and towards the stairwell. He walked down the stairs and spotted Matt as he came through the door.

Blaine stopped halfway down the stairs to lean on the banister, watching Matthew's progress from the door. He paused for a second longer before crushing the self doubt and sweeping aside those pesky and hopefully untrue feelings that maybe it was too late to salvage anything. He pulled in a breath because he needed the air to speak and greeted Matthew.

"Bienvenu a la maison, mon Prince."

Blaine slowly finished his descent down the stairs and returned the smile with a small lip curl of his own. It took a lot of effort to not let it take over his face because of the relief of being responded to. He sighed at the tie being crumpled into Matt's pocket. He had told him not to do that because then they had to be pressed, but he said nothing. He wouldn't dissolve into domestic banter, not when he still felt a bit stiff and on guard.

Blue eyes trailed over the man from head to toe, analyzing Matthew and not missing those little details that consisted of stains of blood and who knows what else. He kept his expression smooth as he gaze stopped on the vampires abdomen. "I can probably take an accurate guess," he said softly, walking behind Matthew into the parlor.

"Yes. Nothing exciting," the blonde said.

Theirs was definitely a relationship that never seemed to go to a set plan. That was why Blaine was cautiously feeling Matthew out and seeing what damage had been done. He wasn't sorry for how he had treated Matthew because it wasn't something that could be undone. No amount of apologizing or self flagellation would fix it. The best the blonde could hope for was time to ease the ache and sooth his rage. The latter had already started to happen, but the life he no longer had was remembered every day.

"Yes, though Maurice finds my taste varies from yours in a way that he finds cumbersome," Blaine said with a hint of a smile. They all knew Blaine would prefer a man over a woman in most instances, but it had never been a problem that Maurice had to deal in such a direct manner. His contacts with escort services didn't align towards the gay variety.

It actually caused Blaine no end of amusement.

The past week had been little instances of conversation, small smiles, light laughter, and the strain to remain cordial was softening. It was so easy for Blaine to fall back into his old habits that were years in the making. Gentle prodding and banter soothed him and reminded him that things had been good for a long time before this. The one thing that was a barrier Blaine had yet to even attempt crossing was the most important:

Touch.

Blaine knew that once it was broken, he wasn't going to be able to stop the flood of feelings he had been holding back. He was touched starved, lonely, and he craved the cool touch of his lover. His hand, his neck, his waist, it didn't matter where. They had both been a physically affection couple and this wide gaping space between them made him antsy to cross it, to make sure he could cross it and repair the damage done.

The fledgling sat on the couch, legs crossed at the ankle and hands on his stomach as he gave Matt a flat look while gently ribbing him on someone from court with an exaggerated accent.

"But she needs the approval right now, mon Prince. It is under the most dire of circumstances that she comes to you...!" he said with a slightly mocking air for the drama queen of the court. He had not missed that woman the last 6 months he hadn't been in court. Not. At. All.

"Yes, well, she does have the body type that makes your zipper fly open on its own accord," Blaine said, looking amused more than anything else, despite the sarcastic lilt to his voice. He was well aware that he was a walking cockblock for many people with designs to fall into Matt's bed and get his favor the good ole fashioned way. Not to say that Matt didn't fuck around a lot, but having a steady lover at home did a lot to quell the impulsive gift giving the vampire might have bestowed on his bedmates.

"With your hearing your earshot is quite far. Or you can just bug the room," Blaine said with a smug grin. "Have a nice, intimate 'get together', leave her alone for a while to see if she's stupid enough to call them anywhere in the house, and kick her out." He shrugged and slowly tapped his thumbs against one another. It had been a while since the house had been properly filled with debauched sounds; however, that wasn't a topic Blaine was going to be broaching. One step at a time.

Matthew' calm only chafed Blaine more. The calm didn't soothe him and he swelled even more with anger because of it. The man may be sad that Blaine hadn't taken to his embrace by now, be he certainly wasn't sorry for doing it.

The closest thing at hand got gripped in Blaine's hand and he threw it with force at Matt. There wasn't anything else to say. He was mad. Furious. And talking about it wasn't making it better. Venting wasn't making him feel better. It just filled him with a wrathful sorrow that had no release he was willing to commit to. He stalked to the door but didn't go out. He found a chair and plopped down into it, burying his face in his hands and wishing for what felt like a bastardized version of teenage hormones taking over his body to leave.

Blaine didn't believe in heaven or hell. There was no God or ethereal being overseeing them. His only hope was that he would be transported home, young like he had been when he was taken to live his life again. It was a vain hope, but it was the only one he had.

He watched Matthew's shoes as they came into view and tensed, not wanting to hear any more of the man's placations or reasons as to why what he did wasn't selfish and for the best. The best for himself. "I would have died and maybe whatever transported me here in the first place would have sent me back home," he said bitterly. "Of course there is no guarantee. I may have just died and that would have been it, but you took it upon yourself to decide my fate for me."

He never looked up. He stayed with his hands fisted in his short, businessman cut, looking down between his legs and breathing steadily in and out to calm himself even though he didn't need the air.

There was a brief bark of a laugh, but it wasn't so much at Matt as at himself and the idea of keeping his thoughts in order. When he hadn't been working he found it hard to streamline his mind. He needed to have a purpose to do it, not just for the hell of it. He supposed not flipping out, breaking The Masquerade and getting himself killed should have been a very good, reasonable purpose. "The 'right' me," he muttered. "Well, that level of restraint was hard before, though age certainly had helped."

His eyes had watched Matt loosening up and he had to wonder in the back of his mind if Matthew was trying to test his resolve. A half disheveled Matthew was a Matthew who hadn't been ravaged enough.

"Well, I'd better look sooner rather than later. I don't want to ever see Lucchi here." Blaine firmly believed the elder vampire's words of warning about what would happen if he had to come back and straighten the fledgling out. "Can I avoid court altogether?" he asked, half joking but also half serious.

"I haven't forgetting the blithering and boring talk of court. It may be enough to send me into a rage out of boredom." He let his eyes wander down from Matthew's face to the triangle of skin at the man's throat.

Blaine hung on. There wasn't anything else for him to do except rock his hips the best he could to accept Matthew's wild spearing. He was happy to do it, as the pleasure was rocketing up faster than he thought when the restraints were removed. He wished he could grab hold and claw down the elder vampires back, but then he'd lose his hold.

Which he promptly did anyway as Matthew dragged him off the couch to put him in his lap. Well, hovering above his lap as the jack hammering continued from below him. Blaine's hands dug into the upper arms that held him captive so deliciously. His head turned against the all-consuming kiss as he let out a loud groan that would be hindered only by Matthew's mouth.

Blaine kept himself out of the way as Matt wrangled with his pants. There wasn't anything on his mind except Matthew, his cock, and how good it felt to be with him again. He wouldn't let them stay apart and let his anger fester ever again, though the make up sex was definitely fantastic.

There was little encouraging necessary to get himself to settle down and fully seat the cock inside him. He moaned out his pleasure loudly and with enthusiasm as Matt started a round of dirty talk that make his balls tighten. "I've been on a diet," he murmured into the man's mouth, "but I think I need a nice good dicking because I'm starving for it."

Joslin reminded Blaine of Allured sometimes, his second in command back when he had been home. They were both efficient, dirty blonde men who the taller man had to mind his hands with. It wasn't a good quality in a boss to fondle your employees and so he had left both men more or less untouched. More or less. Joslin more touched and Allured less so, but that really couldn't be helped when he was drunk.

Blaine stayed where he was, trying not to think of Joslin and his fast heart beat. His butt wiggled a little, minute sways as he didn't deny himself the need to touch his own cock. One arm slid between his legs and his hand stroked his straining cock up and down with a soft sigh of brief relief. Then Matthew was pushing in and his hand went down to grip the sheets instead. He pushed back, gladly taking in every inch of Matt's cock. It was a perfect fit, and Matthew had already fucked him a little earlier so his body was long since ready for a repeat performance. Blaine had just been being stubborn about it, but no more.

Blaine lifted his head off his forearm and looked over his shoulder with smoldering eyes. He pulled in a breath that he managed to prevent from turning into yet another moan so he could say, "Fuck me like you missed me."

However Matthew wanted to interpret that, fast, slow, furniture destroying, he didn't care as long as he was seeing white at the end. he encouraged it by pushing back hard on every thrust forward of Matt's hips.