Christian looked at the drops of blood forming on his hand, a sharp contrast to the pale, even peach color of his skin. Forgetting himself and proper sanitation, he raised his hand to his mouth and gently licked the blood away.

He growled low in his throat, the noise strangely animalistic for such a generally refined man. He had no idea who had mangled the beer can that had cut him since he'd just arrived for the day and began cleaning up almost haphazardly.

A couple of boys were over at one of the pool tables in the far corner, but he didn't peg either of them as being the culprit. In all honesty, with just those two and a handful of regulars, it was more than likely the jerk had already left.

"Christian?" He turned to look at his bartender, a diminutive blonde with a fishnet fetish.

"I'm fine," Christian said, lapping at the last bit of blood before grabbing a paper towel from under the bar. He pointed at the pool table. "Who are those two?"

"From the college, maybe? They ordered Cokes..."

"I'm not going to throw them out," Christian said, his eyes shining in the dim light of the bar. "I wouldn't actually mind if they stayed for awhile."

"Naughty..." the bartender chided before turning back to wiping down the counters.

"That would be me," Christian said to himself once he was sure he wouldn't be heard. Neither of the boys looked up as he approached, something that thoroughly amused him.

"I'll play the winner," Christian said after watching the brown-haired boy sink a banked shot with the perfection and confidence of a pro.

Both looked up. The one with the blue-black hair seemed to defy any and all rules for existence and beauty. His green eyes were piercing but he had such a naive expression that Christian honestly wondered if the boy knew what sort of place he was in. The one with the brown hair looked a little tougher and apparently could sense the power and charisma that Christian put little power into but exuded constantly.

"Sure," the black-haired one said, smiling. "But you'll end up playing Darshan since I'm not so good at this."

Darshan moved to make his next shot, ignoring Christian for the moment.

"And what would your name be?" Nearly forgetting himself, Christian walked around the table to take the black-haired boy's hand in his. He raised it to his lips and gently kissed it, mentally cursing the cut on his hand, still angry and red but no longer bleeding.

"Ethan..." the boy mumbled, looking away as he turned a deep shade of red.

"Ethan," Christian echoed, not letting Ethan have his hand back. "You have a very talented friend.

Ethan nodded, watching Darshan sink another shot.

"I'm rather talented too."