Chapter 74:Dye

Eric rummaged through the cabinets, his hands moving swiftly as though he knew what he was looking for. After a few moments, he pulled out a small box, his lips quirking into a grin.

"Found it," he said, holding it up. "Hair dye. Can you believe it? The man actually has hair dye stashed away."

Alaric, perched on the edge of the sink, glanced up. He narrowed those eyes as they landed on the box in Eric's hand.

"Black," Alaric remarked flatly. "I've never had my hair anything but white before. Not sure I can imagine it any other way."

Eric chuckled, shaking the box lightly. "Change is good sometimes," he replied. "Keeps people on their toes."

Alaric's gaze darkened slightly, his posture stiffening. "If anyone could use a change, it's me."

Eric paused, his grin faltering just slightly. "You mean your hair?"

Alaric raised a brow, a dry, humorless smile tugging at his lips. "What else? White hair, pale skin—I don't exactly blend in." He let out a quiet scoff, almost to himself. "No one's ever seen me any different either."

There was a weight to his words, a bitterness that seeped into the room. Eric's grin softened into something more thoughtful.

"True," Eric said, setting the dye on the counter. "But maybe blending in isn't all it's cracked up to be." He leaned against the counter, watching Alaric carefully. "You've got something unique. Doesn't mean you can't shake it up if you want to, though."

Alaric let out a soft hum of disbelief, his expression unreadable as he looked past Eric toward the box. "And you think dyeing my hair would make a difference?"

Eric shrugged, his tone light but deliberate. "Maybe not. But sometimes a little change on the outside helps you deal with the inside. You ever think about it?"

Alaric's gaze flicked back to Eric, sharp but not unkind. "No," he said simply.

"Well, maybe you should," Eric replied, picking up the dye again. "Who knows? It might surprise you."

Alaric didn't respond immediately, his silence more telling than words. Instead, he watched as Eric placed the dye back on the counter, his movements purposeful yet unhurried.

Eric carefully studied the instructions on the back of the box, his lips curling into a faint grin as he muttered, "Not rocket science, is it?" He set the box down and began gathering what he needed—a mixing bowl, a brush, gloves, and an old towel to drape around his shoulders.

He glanced over at Alaric, who hadn't moved from his perch on the sink, arms crossed as he watched Eric with a mixture of skepticism and curiosity. "Don't just sit there staring like I'm about to explode," Eric teased. "This is art in the making."

Alaric raised a brow. "If this is art, I'd hate to see what you consider a masterpiece."

Eric smirked but didn't respond, instead pulling on the gloves and squeezing the dye into the mixing bowl. He stirred it carefully with the brush, the pungent smell filling the room. "Alright," he muttered to Alaric, dipping the brush into the thick, dark mixture.

He leaned over the sink and began applying the dye with practiced precision, starting at the roots and working it through Alaric's hair in sections. His movements were efficient but not rushed, as though he'd done this before. The black dye contrasted starkly against the white strands, each stroke erasing what had once been bright and drawing a darker hue into its place.

Alaric's gaze lingered on Eric's reflection in the mirror, his expression unreadable. "You're oddly good at that," he finally said.

Eric grinned without pausing. "What, you think I was born with perfect hair? Takes work to look this good."

Alaric scoffed softly, but his attention didn't waver.

Once Eric had covered every strand, he pulled the remaining dye through his hair with his hands, ensuring it was evenly coated. He twisted his hair into a loose bun, securing it with a clip before pulling off the gloves and tossing them onto the counter.

"Done," Eric said, turning to face Alaric who had smudges of dark streaks of dye smudged faintly on his forehead and ears. "Now you just sit here looking ridiculous for half an hour."

They sat in comfortable silence for a moment, the faint sound of dripping dye from Alaric's hair the only noise in the room. It was an odd scene—two men who didn't quite fit the world around them, perched in a bathroom, letting time pass as they made small changes to their outward appearance.

Alaric smirked faintly, his fingers brushing the towel's edges.

Alaric suddenly let out a low whistle, a grin spreading across his face as his crimson eyes locked on Eric. Before Eric could question it, Alaric reached out, grabbing a handful of Eric's shirt and tugging him forward until he was standing between Alaric's legs.

"Whoa—" Eric's breath hitched, his body going rigid with surprise. He felt the warmth of Alaric's legs wrapping around him, pulling him in closer, their bodies nearly pressed together.

Eric's face flushed instantly, heat spreading from his neck up to his ears. Memories of what had happened in the forest flashed unbidden through his mind—how close they'd been, the things they'd done. He swallowed hard, his hands hovering awkwardly by his sides as if unsure of what to do.

Alaric let out a slow, dramatic sigh, draping one arm lazily around Eric's neck. His other hand played absently with the edge of Eric's shirt, tugging at it slightly as his grin softened into something more mischievous. "Why do you keep pretending, Eric?" he asked, his voice low, teasing, and entirely too close. "Pretending like you don't want me so much?"

Eric's lips parted as if to respond, but no words came out. His face burned even hotter, the red in his cheeks spreading as he clenched his jaw, refusing to meet Alaric's gaze.

Alaric chuckled, a deep, almost wicked sound that sent a shiver down Eric's spine. "For a pet," Alaric said softly, his tone dripping with amusement, "you're so cute when you blush like that."

Eric finally found his voice, though it came out rough and strained. "I'm not—"

"You're not what?" Alaric interrupted smoothly, his fingers trailing up the back of Eric's neck, sending an involuntary tremor through him. "Not mine? Not blushing? Not thinking about what happened in the forest?"

Eric bit his lip, his fists clenching at his sides. He wanted to push back, to regain some semblance of control, but the way Alaric looked at him—predatory, confident, utterly unapologetic—made it impossible.

"You're insufferable," Eric muttered finally, though the words lacked any real heat.

Alaric's grin widened, his fangs peeking out ever so slightly.

Eric froze, his heart pounding so loudly in his chest he was sure Alaric could hear it. He hated how easily Alaric could dismantle him, but even more than that, he hated how much he didn't want to leave.

Eric cleared his throat, trying to will the heat in his cheeks to die down as he averted his gaze from Alaric's smirk. "Have you ever…you know…done it with someone before?" The question came out quieter than he intended, his voice trailing off at the end.

Alaric's grin widened, his crimson eyes glinting with amusement as he tilted his head, pretending to ponder the question. "Many times," he said, his tone light and teasing. "But mostly as a joke. Nothing serious."

The casualness in Alaric's voice cut deeper than Eric expected it to. He felt a pang of something sharp and bitter twist in his chest. He didn't respond, didn't even look up, but the shift in his demeanor was obvious. His blush began to fade, replaced by a tightness in his jaw and the slightest downward curve of his lips.

Alaric noticed immediately, of course. He always did. His grin softened, though the mischief didn't entirely leave his expression. "Aw, don't tell me you're jealous, pet," he said, leaning in closer, his voice low and almost purring.

"I'm not," Eric snapped, though his voice wavered slightly, betraying him. He crossed his arms and turned his head, avoiding Alaric's piercing gaze.

"You're terrible at lying," Alaric teased, his legs tightening slightly around Eric's waist, keeping him close. "What's wrong, hm? You didn't expect me to be some innocent little thing, did you?"

Eric's hands clenched into fists at his sides. "I don't care what you've done or with who," he muttered, though the words lacked conviction.

Alaric's grin didn't falter as Eric asked his question, though a wicked gleam lit up his crimson eyes. "Oh, he was good," he said, his voice dripping with amusement and deliberate provocation. "So good, he had me begging for more."

Eric froze, the words slicing through him like a blade. His expression twisted, and without thinking, he tried to pull away. "Get off me," he muttered, voice tight as he squirmed in Alaric's grip.

But Alaric wasn't letting him go. His legs tightened around Eric's waist, keeping him firmly in place, while his hand slid from Eric's chin to the back of his neck. With startling speed, he yanked Eric forward and pressed their lips together in a sudden, possessive kiss.

Eric's eyes went wide, his protests dying in his throat as the warmth of Alaric's mouth overwhelmed him. It wasn't gentle—it was deliberate, teasing, and filled with an infuriating confidence that only Alaric could pull off.

When Alaric finally pulled back, his lips quirked into a smug smirk as he studied Eric's dazed, blushing face. "Jealousy suits you, pet," he said, his voice low and almost purring.

Eric stammered, his words tangled in his throat as he tried to recover from what just happened. He raised a hand to push at Alaric's chest, but it was weak and half-hearted.

"Relax," Alaric said, his grip on Eric's neck firm yet not forceful. "You're far more entertaining than anyone else could ever hope to be."

Eric's glare was half-hearted at best, the heat in his cheeks betraying how flustered he truly was.

Eric cleared his throat, trying to mask how flustered he was. He gently pushed back against Alaric's chest, creating a bit of distance between them. "It should be finished by now," he said, his voice steadier than he expected. "Let's rinse it out, and then we can change and get moving."

Alaric blinked, tilting his head like a curious animal, eyes narrowing in mild confusion. "Change and get moving where?" he asked, his tone innocent but laced with disinterest.

Eric sighed, shaking his head as a small, amused smile broke through his earlier irritation. "I saw an old pickup truck just outside the fence. Looks like it might still run,better than running whole night ."

Alaric's brows furrowed slightly, as if the concept of something so mundane as a truck was foreign to him. "Pickup truck?" he repeated, testing the words like they were in another language.

Eric couldn't help but laugh softly. "You're seriously oblivious sometimes," he teased, grabbing a towel from the counter.

Alaric's lips twitched into an almost pout, but before he could reply, Eric leaned over and guided him toward the sink. "Come on, let's get this dye out before it stains," Eric said, tugging gently at Alaric's arm.

Alaric didn't resist, though his gaze stayed fixed on Eric with a faint, unreadable expression. As Eric began carefully rinsing out the dye, running his fingers through Alaric's hair to make sure all the product was gone, he found himself once again struck by how unnaturally soft Alaric's hair was.

Alaric tilted his head back slightly, letting out a contented sigh as the warm water ran through his hair. "You're surprisingly gentle for someone who pretends to be so cold," he murmured, his tone dripping with mockery.

"Shut up," Eric muttered, though his cheeks warmed slightly as he continued.

Once the dye was fully rinsed out, Eric helped towel off Alaric's hair, grumbling under his breath as Alaric refused to do it himself. When Eric finally pulled the towel away, he stepped back, giving Alaric's now-dark hair an appraising look.

"There," Eric said, a hint of pride creeping into his tone. "Now you don't look like such a beacon. No one will spot us from a mile away anymore."

Alaric stood and ran a hand through his damp, blackened hair, his expression unreadable as he examined his reflection. For a moment, he seemed genuinely surprised by the transformation, his sharp features somehow even more striking beneath the dark color.

"Well?" Eric asked, crossing his arms with a smirk. "What do you think?"

Alaric tilted his head slightly, his crimson eyes locking with Eric's. "It's... different," he said, his tone lighter than usual.

"Change is good sometimes," Eric said, echoing his earlier words with a grin.

Alaric's lips curved into a faint smirk, and he turned away. "If you say so, pet," he said dismissively, though the glint in his eyes betrayed his amusement.

"Alright," Eric said, stepping back toward the door. "Let's get dressed and check out that truck."

Alaric hummed in agreement, watching Eric leave the room before trailing behind him, his steps unhurried and his expression as unreadable as ever.