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The ears of the pack perked up as they stirred from within the quarters of the Monster's Dorm. Their little feet scurrying to the door like a wave of fur and excitement, their happiness displayed with their wiggling hindquarters as they swarmed against the door with quiet pants and yips. The Faustus that was staying there lifted its own head, his stern, cold blue eyes looking to the door before its great, helmed head dipped down, placing its head upon its outstretched paws with a soft whine. The handle rattled before the jangle of keys and the clicks of the teeth fitting into place before the doorknob twisted again, the door opening free as the large boil moved inside. The door closed and dark dress shoes toed off - leaving them haphazardly placed by the door as was the 'Rules' of the dominion - as the demon waded through the excited yips and hops of the Foxfire pack, their happy eyes looking up at their guest. However, he wasn't paying them any attention. Even with his higher senses and keen attention to the little things that catch it, his focus overwhelmed everything as he moved through the living space. His finger hooking and loosening the tie around his neck, it suddenly feeling constricting and suffocating. Everything felt constricting and suffocating. His icy-gold eyes shot down to his outfit, his dark jacket with intricate embroidery, the beautifully made white shirt and the tie around his neck, the matching slacks and belt. He growled as he shucked off his jacket though snagging on his elbow as the collar slipped past his own broad shoulder, frustrating him further as he laid it over the back of the couch in passing toward the bedroom. The famously designed gloves strewn onto the bedside dresser where he normally had slept when he spent the night - regardless of the rules, he did it anyway - sleeping here.

Flipping the lights on, the hellhound demon stood over the sink. His dark, gelled hair no longer stylized but messy going every which way as if one's hands had gone through it a few times. Beads of sweat speckled his forehead and collar, his shirt's first few buttons undone, the tie loose around his neck. His scruff was well kept in preparation for the auction tonight. He glared at himself, focusing his frustrations at something - anything that was in front of him. The demon felt the toil in his belly again whenever he pictured the monster in his head; his smiling face throughout the night that he managed to get the small glimpses of him at the dance. Every time, it felt like his kidney was being twisted and his mid-stomach yanked back and forth like a scareling with boo-boo keys. At first, it was flutterings and warmth whenever the two were together until the feeling diminished to almost undetectable in the presence of the monster. He'd rather have the fluttering than this damn storm that was brewing inside. Uru'baen growled as he tore himself from the bathroom - the presence of the toilet was too much of a temptation - grabbing his things before departing. As much as he had so much to say to the guy, tonight wouldn't be the night. He might hurt him and that was the last thing the guy deserved. Sleeping on it might help because being in this place wasn't.



There was no still sleep to be had that night, the bed wide and empty, alone and cold. The company that he had these nights left it warm and soothing, the comfort in knowing that there was someone else there beside him. They hadn't need to be in contact, but the weight on the bed was rather welcomed. Waking up to feel no impression beside him or the foxfires littering his comforter, it was concerning. Pushing himself out of bed, brushed his teeth before making his way back to the monster's place.

Knocking on the door, the demon stood before with an arm on the frame, his chest panting heavily indicative of a good run (likely around the campus briefly before making it here - two steps at a time), still dressed in what he had worn the night before; tie loose around his neck, shirt slightly unbuttoned with sleeves rolled up, shoes untied and scuffed a bit now. Lips pulled tight and eyes directed at the dorm-owner's door. He had the key in hand, yet he didn't put it into the hole just yet, his eyes flittering down the frame and to the floor. Closing his eyes, he could hear them all inside; Damien's in there moving about somewhere, the pack was muffled but present with their subtle movements around the space, Fraustus was still here as he had forgotten to take him with him, and then there was that scent - that oh so familiar scent that made him take deep breathes. Yet there was something so different about it - perhaps not as much as most, but enough for him to notice. Taking a breath, he slotted the key and welcomed himself inside just like he would any other time.

Toeing his shoes off gingerly as he entered the space. He needed some answers and going to the library wasn't going to help him this time. "You awake?" He called, his voice uncertain, without his deep, serious tone.

There was that tell-tale sign of the monster's slumber in the room. The demon dipped his head in, keep it low but his eyes trained on the half-disrobed boil sprawled on the bed - his half still slightly made. The smell hit him hard; it was the smell of everyone from the night before, sweat, and something strong, but bitter, it was when he sat himself on his half of the bed that he could pick up the slightly stale breath and the familiar scent of the monster he had gotten used to. Looking at the boil, the irritation soothed a bit. He shouldn't wake him as he knew that the monster only snored when he was truly in a deep sleep - like him, only occurs when he is comfortable. Perhaps whatever he had done the night before had a similar effect. Damien's face laid unattractively smashed against his pillow, his cheek pushing his mouth in such a way that kept it slightly open, his chestnut brown hair an absolute mess, his shirt opened and hanging off. Apparently, there was an attempt at undressing. Uru rounded to Damien's side of the bed, scooping up Kiba from his playful tug of war (or his attempt at helping his owner to get undressed), holding him against his chest, sitting lightly on the edge of the bed.

The demon peered down at the sleeping beast, his scent still strong, his face looked relaxed and still charming, his body exposed and still amazing to look at. The monster had always been a fit individual and he had seen him exposed on multiple occasions since their living situations had became more casual. But he knew - realized that he had feelings for the boil and had shut it down so deep that he had assumed it was but a phase. It wasn't until last night, seeing the boil with two others did those feelings come rushing back with a vengeance.

Uru hesitantly reached to touch the boil's chest, though stopped with his hand hovering. No, he should not do this. He wouldn't touch the boil without his knowing. He was a very tactile individual and it was only through Damien that he was able to feed that hunger, yet the monster never objected to it. No, he didn't do it because he knew he'd feel guilty about it later...

Uru gave the little foxfire his usual put-out/offended look before placing the minipet down to let it do as it pleased. It seemed to want to do something or something was on its mind, enough to make noise that could wake its owner. The demon glanced at the boil as he settled deeper into his sleep, curling into comfort on the bed. No matter how unattractive he had his face smashed into the pillow, or how stale his breath was, or how he snored, he found it attractive, cute, and comforting. He couldn't wake him with what he had in his head, his irritation about the night before was worth waking him. However, the feeling that sent his stomach into spirals needed to be eased. He wasn't much use before his cup of coffee. Easing himself off the bed, he made his way to the kitchen, giving a brief glance at the boil before getting into the kitchen.

The time was past the pack's morning meal - thus that was dealt with swiftly. The kitchen area was cleaned, as expected of the monster, so finding the coffee carafe was easy - it was next to the tea kettle. It was habitual, subconscious even, that he had set up both of the apparatus to brew as he leaned back onto the counter, staring at the kettle and carafe.

Was it fair? Damien had a good night with friends, he had many of them, he made them so easily and go along with them so nicely. He was able to have a great time. Ontop of that, he was able to get such a comfortable enough sleep that he was snoring in the other room! But he could not help but find that image of the monster's expression when he spotted him in the crowd. Such distress, some sadness, confusion even. In turn, he felt it too. His nose wasn't that strong to pick up things like that, but he was beginning to familiar certain changes in one's smell to know that Damien was not happy last night. His fingers curled around the edge of the counter he settled his resolve; that was what he was going to talk to the boil about. Not the feeling he was having in his stomach, not his suppressed feelings for him - he could control himself. For his sake.

Promptly, and quietly, Uru moved to the kettle before it could go off, making their morning drinks before returning to the room. He set Damien's tea down beside him and held his own in his hand. It would be better to wait for him to wake than to rouse him.

Uru laid on the bed, legs crossed at the ankles, his hands cupping his coffee on his lap as he leaned back into the pillows and headboard, dress close slightly mussed. His thick brows lifted incredulously as the boil rolled out the bed - literally - and falling onto the floor. Perhaps it would have been in kindness that he had drawn the curtain shut. While he hadn't had a hangover in his life, other than the muscle kind, light at first sight wasn't something he welcomed. It was why he woke before the sunrise to adjust to the dawn rising.

"It's morning." he deadpanned. Taking the sip of his coffee, his dual-colored eyes followed the monster wherever he went. "Had a good time last night, I bet?" He knew the answer to it. He could see it on him - not just his clothes, his entire self. He was a mess! He smelled of so many other individuals - he smelled... off...

"Do you want me to fix it?" his voice steady, trying to contain... what was this feeling?

Watching him get up and move to the bathroom for a morning routine he was all too familiar with, his brows involuntarily twitched when he watched the door toed closed. It wasn't like he hadn't seen the guy naked multiple times. They left the door open all the time, after all. No, it was just a habit that was hard to kick. It was polite to close one's bathroom when in occupancy. It made sense, he was just overthinking it. Shaking his head, the demon pushed himself up as he made his way to the kitchen. "The offer is there." He called as he exited the bedroom and into the next.

The cereal bowl was prepared and waiting with a spoon nearby. Damien's breakfast preferences were kinda easy when one lived so closely with one another. Or, perhaps, he was just overly observant.

A bottle fell, the obvious thudding it made as it did. Uru's head jerked up as he looked at the boil through the walls as if he could, as if to see if he was alright. Jeez, he's fine. He was sure.

Uru came into the room, placing the bowl beside his still-warmed tea, taking his spot back on his side of the bed. Indeed, he was clean, the smell was better at least. Though, the half-heartedly flailing broke his serious expression with a soft chuckle. "Struggling with the idea of underwear? No one's gonna make you. Stay in your towel."

This wasn't fair. There was literally just a towel between him and... no, lets not wander there. Still, he couldn't say 'hey, Damien, be a pal and put on those stupid boxers of yours'.

Yes... this was also a thing. He had almost forgotten. He had gotten used to the prepared plate breakfast of eggs and bacon. But a bowl of milk? Yeah, that was just asking for a mess. The demon rolled his eyes with an exhale. "You tried your hardest, I'm sure." Uru took another sip of his coffee as he watched the boil in the towel and foxfire demolish and splash about. Looking down at himself, he remembered he was still wearing the clothes from the night before. He would free ball from time to time. Today wasn't one of those. But the mental image of Damien... it was comfortable, he'd give him that, it was just an overall better feel. There, justified.

"Considering?..." He ventured with a furrowed brow. What was that suppose to mean? That he stood around with Maple briefly before excusing himself when she had grown accustomed and comfortable with her dates? Considering that he hadn't gotten into so much fun and shenanigans? Uru huffed like a child as he took another sip of his coffee. "I didn't stay too long after the auction."

His brows furrow as he scowled at the boil. "Eye candy? You know as much as anyone else who knows me that I do not like that kind of attention. I deplore it. If I could have avoided it, I would have. I didn't sign up for that, Damien. But my name was called and I was summoned. So I attended and did what I needed to do." Fun? How could he have any sort of fun when the creep he wanted to have fun with was distressed and then, suddenly, so easily distracted by others. So distracted that the distress was gone and he was having fun. But that smell, that expression, so pugnant that he wasn't going to just forget about it whenever he looked at him all night. Maybe it was in his mind that he saw that sadness through the laughter and smiles, but he was sure that the monster had a blast last night.

Uru put his cup down as he glared down at the boil, using his size as he sat upright toward the monster. The eye change did not go unnoticed. "Nothing happened, nothing happened at all after I had left. I had left alone, I went home and that was where I had stayed." He growled deeply as his eyes bled to solids. What he would have liked to have happen would not happen because who he wanted to have it happen with wasn't with him. He left alone and he stayed at his dorm because the dorm he would have initially gone to was vacant of a boil he'd rather spend time with than a stupid auction and a stupid dance. "What of you? Did you have a good time with Brand and..." Uru wrinkled his face. "whoever else I smell on you."

Uru's eyes screwed shut as his fingers came to pinch them. Why. Why. Why. Why. Honestly, he didn't care who this "Deacon" was. That wasn't really what was bumping him at the moment, but it was certainly bringing certain feelings back that he had managed to stamp down. As for his inability to eat without a spoon... it was too much effort.

"I know, I was here." He shot back. He smelled better, he could admit that. Damien had smelled of so many other that it just didn't sit right with him. The smell that he found himself scenting each and every time he walked into this place was clouded, diluted, covered. It didn't sit right. Looking at himself, he was still in the previous night's clothes and slightly salty from a brief run earlier to let loose some energy. Perhaps a shower for himself was a good idea as well.

Without asking permission, he pushed himself from the bed, stripping off his shirt as it slid off his back. The muscles flexing as he stretched an arm over his head as the white cotton top pulled from his form and dropped to the side. Expensive shirt? Two jacks given. He didn't even blink an eye as he undid his belt and stepped out of his pants with a slight grunt of frustration as his foot caught as the pant leg bundled at the ankle. In his skivvies, the demon made his way to the bathroom, tossed aside the shower curtain and stood inside.

Things were clearly forgotten on his pathetic storm to clean himself; like closing the door and... grabbing a towel.

"So what did you do last night, Damien? Did you help Deacon out more or does that insinuation only extend to me? Last I saw, you were having a grand ol' time being Brand's 'trophy husband'. I vaguely recall you offering him your 'mouth to deal with'."

Perhaps he shouldn't use his creepy listening skills to recall certain conversational pieces. What if he wanted that? What if he wanted to deal with it? No, probably never crossed the monster's mind. He was the stick in the mud, the stiff board that stood there and brood over everyone else. He wasn't active and cheerful and part-take in revelry. Wouldn't want anything to do with the demon, for sure.