A sire's gift (Frederico and anyone in his house) - Frederico's Haven

Estaban still was a little shaky as it was only the second day after his four day creative jag. But in his hands was a treasure like he had never created before. The box he held was simple but well made and polished to a shine. Perfect and well made, with nothing fancy to blur the quality of the box. It was the only box he would give to his father. He always gave his gifts to his father in this box.

He went up to the door and knocked.

The same woman opened the door, her brow cocked upward in a look of surprise.

"You again."

He smiled.

"I am flattered you remember me. Are you getting sweet on me? Because I should warn you I am a taken man. May I please speak to the man of the house?"

She blinked in surprise.

"In the sitting room, if he doesn't throw you out first."

Apparently, Frederico was still pissed.

Of course he was still pissed. Still he nodded.

"Thank you madam. You are most kind. Thank you for treating him so well."

He walked into the sitting room, holding the box, looking for his father and judging his mood.

Pissed off Frederico was pissed off. So said the open book in his lap, considering it was Paradise Lost.

His father was an artist when any came to subtle insults and slights. And of course he had trained his son to recognize them. He walked in front of his father and got on his knees there. Looking up at him.

"You look good Father. How does this evening find you?"

For the moment, he didn't even look up from his book.

Still pissed.

Ah. It was to be this way.

So he sat, silently holding out the box. His father would know what the box meant. And we would continue to hold out the box.

And he continued to ignore Estaban. Until he finished his chapter. When he looked up at the other Toreador, his eyes were flat.

Dead.

"What do you want?"

He simply held out the box to him. No words.

He glanced at the box then lifted his brow.

"And you are here to tell me that this is better than that pitiful excuse for a cigar you brought me last?"

He stayed where he was holding it up. Before he could not have kept this up all night. Now he could much longer than that.

"I would never presume to tell you that. You must judge yourself father. I only pray you find it worthy of you."

He nodded toward a nearby table.

"Leave it on the table."

Yep. That bitchy.

Frederico ordered and so he did. He leaned up to his knees and placed the box on the side table for his father before going back to his place on his knees in front of his father.

And there he stayed. Waiting.

The Toreador didn't even look up from his book.

"You may go."

Yes. That pissy. Really.

He looked at the man and then spoke softly.

"I have one more gift for you, if you would accept it."

He didn't even look up.

"What is it?"

"I have been playing with something and found a way to work certain gifts of the blood together. Would like to learn what I call the shared kiss?"

He frowned.

"It does what, exactly?"

"When one gives the kiss to you.. you give it back to them automatically."

He snorted.

"Sounds like a good way to get yourself lost for weeks at a time. And dangerous to boot."

He shook his head.

"I find it surprises people who mean to use it to take control of a situation and in other ways it shares the joy. But if you are not interested, I understand. I have one other thing to offer.. but I can see you will probably not be interested."

He looked back to his book.

"If I would not be interested, why bother trying to offer it?"

"Because you obviously judge anything from me as beneath your notice at this time father. Whether it is good and useful or not. I had hope to melt your hard heart. But I can see you will not yet. But I will continue coming to you and trying, Because I love you father."

He was looking at the floor as he spoke. Yes, he was hurt.