As daunting a task as it was to live alongside the other vampiric residents and as easy as it was to decline any and all requests they may have had, he couldn't not accept their wishes if his brother asked him to aid them with whatever desires they had. Despite the odd reversal in roles regarding their ages, or who had been born first, Theo had taken to being the older sibling only in appearance, even spoiling him if he weren't treating him much like the older sibling should.
It had been Vincent's request that he help Arthur with whatever he'd needed after the author had appeared at their door, asking for the younger Van Gogh brother, a somewhat mischievous smirk on his lips, a trademark smile of his, but there had been something hidden behind it. That alone had made him flatly reply with a decline to his request and yet... Here he was, thanks to his brothers' puppy-like eyes and sweet words, only wanting Theo to make friends since they were living there for the rest of their lives...
Reluctantly and exasperatedly rounding the corner to the hallway specified in the authors' request, the dealer found the flirtatious man leaning nonchalantly against the wall beside a finely designed set of doors. He still held his smirk, the impish curve evident and not hiding the amusement and oncoming irritation that Theo already felt bubbling. His flat no had been due to him recognizing the feature, the trait that foretold of his mischief.
He'd seen it coming a mile off and as his brother had asked him to help the author; he'd signed himself up for Arthur's games, not that he would blame his brother, nor were it as if he wouldn't repay him in full by getting his own back at a later date.
"Why are we here?" Theo questioned with a harsher than necessary tone, gradually coming to a halt in front of the doors and the author himself, that smirk still carved into his irritating expression. The dealer had braced himself upon beginning his venture to the location, ready for whatever the fool lay on the table.
"Today is your day, Theo," his silence followed, the slightly taller of the two staring impassively, a rhetorically questioning brow quirking, "To wake our recent arrival?" as if there had been a group decision made for this requirement? If there had been, which he sorely doubted, it hadn't been brought to his attention. "We've decided to take it in turns to wake the sleeping soldier," again, this imaginary decision hadn't been brought to his attention, nor did he believe there had been a meeting.
"And according to you, I have the pleasure?" the tone the brother had used made it clear that this was anything but a pleasure. A chore and errand, however? Indeed. A ploy conceived by this troublemaking author? Indeed.
"You do," the man had obviously seen his disdain, choosing to ignore it and remain amused and entertained. Theo growled under his breath, grunting with irritation as he turned towards the double doors, now aware that the room belonged to the soldier that had only recently arrived at the mansion. Shaking his head with reluctance, he lifted an arm to knock the door, planning to bang it firmly enough that it would thrum through the mans' skull while he slumbered.
But then a hand loosely grasped his coated bicep, "A simple knock won't wake him, I'm afraid," simple? He'd been planning to break the door with the knock. Another growl slipping between his lips, he lowered his arm and reached for the handle, deciding to get whatever humiliation the other had in store over with, "Be polite," the author added softly.
Internally berating himself for allowing the ploy to continue, the dealer entered the room, disregarding the very soft chuckle that followed upon his entrance. He'd been about to turn away and leave altogether, planning to return to his brother, but then he'd seen the inside of the room. The dim light casting along the walls and floor from the curtains, the warmth akin to invisible mist and the soft breaths muffled by thick sheets being the only nuance.
Letting his gaze drift towards the bed, his irritation ebbed, and without much thought, he'd closed the door behind him, flicking the lock shut on the inside. Following that, he'd heard the handle turn, a questioning mutter muffled by the door and then a few choice curses and complaints. And then a kick to the base of the door.
As amused as he should have been from the reaction, Theo felt far too calm to care. The atmosphere of the room had, oddly enough, composed him, draining him of any frustration. Had it been the warmth? The warmth akin to a fire having heated the space. It reminded him of a room that he and Vincent would share during winter, the fire lit, chairs facing the burning heat with tea and newspapers or a book instead.
Ignoring the still complaining author at the door, Theo sauntered along the bedside until he found himself standing at the bedside table, facing the bundled man. Only able to see his hair and upper face, it appeared that the man preferred to burrow and smother himself in the warmth of a body-heated bed. Not that Theo hated the warmth and comfort of his bed in the mornings. It was simply that he was required to wake his brother more often than not and prepared for it by leaving his bed earlier than most.
As he was already there, he could wake the soldier, though he felt far more reluctant than he'd been when entering the room. The calm had eased him so much that he was tempted to simply linger rather than disturb him and leave for his brothers' workspace. How could a room he'd never entered be more comforting than his siblings' or even his own?
Eyeing the seemingly peaceful face, or what he could see of his face, Theo inched closer until the edges of the thick duvet brushed his trouser leg, now gazing down at the slumbering form. Though he'd never really been interested in the beauty of humans or people in general, this man had caught his attention, oddest of attractions warming in his chest.
But before he could linger on the gradual realization of his interest, he cut his thoughts short, not wanting to let it spread or expand within his mind. Shaking himself of it, the dealer shifted the blanket, tugging it to reveal the rest of his smooth and delicate features, which only spurted a growth in the thoughts he'd assumed he'd pushed aside.
"Bonaparte," he'd called passively, the edge of the sheet still in hand and being pushed farther down, the soldiers' half bare collarbone reaching his sight. The dealer internally scolded himself, "Napoleon, wake up," his tone grew firmer, his eyes closing with a soft frown marring his features. The faster he woke the man, the faster he could leave. And the faster he would tear his thoughts from his mind and burn them in a fire as equally comforting as the warmth in the soldiers' bedroom.
"Bonapar-," his wrist was suddenly grasped, Theo's eyes blinking open in mild surprise just as he'd been tugged forward. Feeling himself sway out of balance, the dealer reached out his free hand, splaying it against the mattress beside the soldiers' pillowed head-
A tender heat spread throughout his face as his lips were caught by Napoleon's, his eyes wide and breath halted in his throat, lungs expanded with waiting air. He'd frozen himself, staring at closed lids and still soft and peaceful features, the man seemingly unbothered that he was kissing another man. Even less that he'd shifted them so faintly against the dealers' as if he knew what he were doing.
As quick as it began, it ended, the soldier parting the liplock so smoothly and casually before relaxing back against the mattress.
"Be quiet," he'd muttered groggily in his tongue, Theo still gawking with a hand pressed beside the soldiers' head, only then noting that he'd found himself sitting directly at Napoleon's side, hands on either side of him, leaning over his upper body with a hold still on his wrist, loose but firm against the joint.
He... the soldier was asleep, his breaths even, eyes perfectly closed and shielding his teal irises. Gazing down at the new resident, Theo swallowed thickly, trying with effort to compose the heat spreading through his chest and attempting to spread through his cheeks.
More effort and more warmth, Theo clenched his hands into fists, gnawing on the inside of his lip to return his calm, his usual air. It'd been difficult at that moment, only making it a fraction easier by removing the hand from his wrist and then himself from above the soldier to stand at the side of his bed again, his legs faltering just slightly with his unfocused control.
"Bonaparte," he'd called loudly a tougher firmness to his tone, turning to face the man upon hiding his previously heated skin and stuttering pulse. A long and muffled hum followed, croaking slightly from the slowly stirring form, "Get up," he continued, reluctantly reaching out and grasping the duvet before pulling it from a majority of the soldiers' figure, that hum becoming a heavy sigh. But then his teal his did open, hooded lids revealing only a sliver of the glossy gaze, disoriented, thick with morning tire.
There was a lingering moment between the soldier remaining half asleep and finally feeling the presence in the room, those bright, greenish eyes drifting along until they paused on the dimly lit dealer standing at his bedside, the corner of the sheets in his tight and tense grasp.
"Theo," the man had acknowledge, still appearing asleep for the most part as Napoleon shifted, climbing back up the bed until his shoulders were resting against his pillows, "Morning," he'd greeted between yawns, Theo refusing to admit that it was somewhat endearing to see this mildly unkempt side of him.
"Morning," the dealer greeted, his tone sounding more than slightly guarded and taut. Though fortunately, the voice sounded almost identical to his default tone, Napoleon appearing to not pick up on it, thankfully, "Now get up," he added curtly, dropping the blanket before turning away and heading towards the door.
Unaware of the thoughtful gaze the soldier was giving him, Theo unlocked the door, his hand splaying against the authors' chest to walk him out of his path so that he had nothing between himself and the route that led to his brothers' workspace. The man was lucky that Theo had no tools to perform a castration.