Craterus Aesthetic
The first time he’d seen Victor backhand his Mate for some trivial and otherwise minor offense, it had taken every fiber of self-control he possessed not to rip the man’s head off and piss on his ashes.
For his part, Charles had stood there and taken it stoically, blinking back the stinging tears that sprang naturally to his young eyes.
That had been a very long time ago indeed.
And since then, Craterus had catalogued a considerable number of bruises inflicted upon his beloved, each met by that same determined stare in return.
He wanted to believe that eventually all that pain would reach its peak, and with it the years of resentment his Mate had surely to have been building.
For Charles never fought back, despite having been very well trained to defend himself by a pair of old friends who never gave him an inch when it came to developing the necessary skill sets for a whole lot more than merely self-preservation.
Craterus had reconciled himself by sheer force of will, to the obvious vulnerabilities that came from being so remorselessly tied to a man in his life who had made it abundantly clear that should the need ever arise, he would have no problem removing even his own son from the world, for the sake of maintaining all that he had built.
Thus it was, that he tolerated – albeit barely – the blows which inevitably followed that very first.
Much had been done in secret, away from Victor’s prying eyes and ever present, ever grasping reach.
Much was still to do.
And Craterus was disciplined enough to reach his goal, though yet again he was made very well aware of the power his own Sire could wield, as into their home Victor brought the bitch who would doubtless be the downfall of them all.
The blow that fell upon his Mate’s right cheek that day was loud enough to be heard from the lobby all the way upstairs to the shadows on the balcony, as it cracked with vicious fury and deliberate malice.
Once more, Charles said nothing, though Sidney snickered like the self-satisfied little asshole he had become.
Instead, it was Craterus who flinched, watching at the railing, waiting for retaliation.
It had to come.
One day.
Surely.