For Emcee

[onceaviking]

Eric's room is quiet and cool.
Neat.

Once he's though the door he puts his phone and his keys on the desk and toes off his boots. His feet are bare. Pale against the floorboards.

He turns and looks at Emcee.
Pale. Tall. Looming in the half light of a single lamp at the bedside.

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[onceaviking]

Eric makes a small sound and closes his eyes.
He doesn't let his head fall back, because that would expose his throat and he doesn't do that. Ever.

But he does relax a little. And parts his lips.

[i_am_your_host]

His touch is light at first, teasing, dancing. Fingertips skating over the cool hardness of his flesh. And then, growing firmer, at the same time indulgent. Emcee enjoys touching him.

It's not merely about jacking him off. That's too simplistic. It's more about letting Eric feel the sort of pleasure that Emcee knows how to give.

And besides, Eric looks fucking beautiful like this.

[onceaviking]

It is double-edged, but then sex always is.
Pleasurable to an extent humans are not able to understand, due to heightened senses and stamina.
Dangerous, because it triggers hunger.

( and there is the hidden edge, the way it calls forth memories of times past, of sweat, of heartbeats, of warm lips - but he doesn't think about that, he won't think about that)

He moans. Just a little bit.

[i_am_your_host]

Emcee is well aware of the risks. Yet he continues to toe that line again and again, depending on his (sometimes shaky) trust in Eric that he won't kill him. And he also knows that it's one of the few things that reminds him of what it was like to be a human. He just wishes it didn't have to be such a bad thing.

Still, as long as Eric allows him to pleasure him like this, he'll do it. Carefully.

The moans are worth it.

He reaches deeper to cup his balls, massaging and caressing, before sliding back up the length of his shaft. He can't help a little moan of his own, a soft, purring breath against Eric's shoulder as he tips his head toward him.

[onceaviking]

Eric reaches down with one large hand and guides Emcee's thumb a fraction to the right, putting pressure behind it.
And shudders.

yes

He closes his eyes, but he is no longer picturing Talbot. No.

Sookie, naked. In front of him. Holding his cock. Moving her hands. Her lips slick and parted. Her eyes on his face.

Another, tiny moan falls from his lips.

[i_am_your_host]

Eric has never guided his fingers before. This is actually a promising sign.

Taking his instruction, he continues to stroke him just so, watching his face. He's seen that look on other people, but so far he hasn't noticed it on Eric until lately. It's the look one gets when one is fantasizing about someone.

And Emcee can't help smiling a little at that. Whoever it is, he is only too glad to fill that role with the deft touch of his fingers.

[onceaviking]

It's just because if the way she smells, he likes to think about her.
Just because of her secret, whispered in his ear by her terrified cousin.

It's not because he cares.

She's just someone he wants.

His hand stays on Emcee's. Moving along with the strokes. His hips flex, as he moves up and into the touch and this time he groans. A little louder.

[i_am_your_host]

Emcee's hand is slender enough to feel feminine, and he plays up to that, knowing where most of Eric's physical preferences and desires lie (the way he looked at him when he had changed into a woman). He keeps his hold on his cock firm enough to rub against, just the way Eric wants it, yet his movement is fluid, with almost delicate refinement. And all the while he watches Eric, his body, his face. Muscles shifting under his pale skin, perfect lips parted to let out a groan.

Emcee bites his lower lip and sighs dreamily, his toes curling.

[onceaviking]

Eric runs one of his hands up his own abdomen and chest, and letting it rest, lightly curled, above one nipple.

Moaning softly.

It makes his fangs look even more prominent.
Dangerous.
Deadly.

[i_am_your_host]

Eric is incredibly hard and deliciously gorgeous right now, and Emcee can't help but press his free hand between his own legs. (He's adept at multi-tasking.)

He stares at his fangs. Long and gleaming white, needle sharp. They are definitely not made for gentle bites. He's sure that the bites he's received are nothing compared to what Eric is capable of.

[onceaviking]

Eric turns his head a little, eyes still closed.
"Come here," he whispers.

They'd talked of kisses. Fanged kisses.

[i_am_your_host]

His breath hitches, and he swallows hard, licking his lips.

He obediently leans in, his quick, heavy breathing very warm against Eric's jaw.

He continues to stroke him, moving slower, fingers curling slightly tighter.

[onceaviking]

Eric turns his head a little more and catches Emcee's lips with his own.
He's not kissing Emcee. He is kissing Sookie. The way he would if she was his. Only, in that case he would likely retract his fangs.

He doesn't know.

They stay a hard and cold reality between their lips.

[i_am_your_host]

He exhales a quiet sigh, eyelashes fluttering, fingers trembling.

Eric's lips are a soft contrast to the danger of his fangs. But Emcee welcomes it, returning the kiss, slow and thorough. He slides his tongue past his teeth, licking at a fang, delicately avoiding its sharp point.

He can tell Eric isn't kissing him. He knows he's thinking of someone else, someone else entirely for whom these 'experiments' were meant. But it's not his place to consider asking who. He can only give Eric the illusion of what it might be like. And for his sake, he hopes that the reality, should it happen, will be better.

[onceaviking]

The kiss seems to excite him more than the fingers on his cock and it isn't long before he breaks it with a panted, " 'm coming."

A promise. A warning. It's hard to tell.

[i_am_your_host]

The promise/warning doesn't stop Emcee from stroking him. His thumb where Eric likes it, at just the right pressure.

Nor does it stop him from kissing the corner of his mouth, lips and tongue caressing what's exposed of one of his fangs.

He knows it will be messy but he doesn't care.

[onceaviking]

Eric's hand settles at the side of Emcee's face as he deepens the kiss - moaning silently as he comes, coating Emcee's hand with cool, thick, dark blood.
Shuddering against his lips.
The muscles of his stomach twitching.

[i_am_your_host]

He gasps.

But he doesn't pull back or let go.

He continues to slowly slide his fingers up and down his softening shaft. Slick, sticky. Indulging in how it feels. Eventually his hand goes still, but he doesn't move it just yet.

His breath is hot against Eric's mouth. He nuzzles his chin soothingly as he comes down, catching at his lower lip.

There's almost an intimacy to this. Something secret that shouldn't have happened.

[onceaviking]

Eric moves his head back, just a little.
Taking a breath.

Then he slowly opens his eyes and looks at Emcee.
Sees him.

"I should wash," he says, sounding a little hoarse.
He doesn't move though.

[i_am_your_host]

Emcee opens his eyes as well. His gaze is lowered, so the first thing he sees is Eric's mouth. A flick to the side, and he sees his hand resting on Eric's cock, coated in dark blood.

"I should, too," he murmurs.

Also not moving.

After a moment it becomes obvious that neither of them are moving.

But he turns his head a bit, the tip of his nose brushing against Eric's chin, as he glances up at his eyes and away again. His lips twitch.

"I think that was a rather successful experiment."

[onceaviking]

"I suppose," Eric says, sounding a little - not sad. Quiet perhaps.
"It was - it's been a while since I did this."

Last time was different. They both know that.

[i_am_your_host]

He nods.

"Did you enjoy it?" he asks, also quiet.

[onceaviking]

His lips quirks a little.

"You're very good at what you do," he replies. Which is both an answer and a not-answer.

[i_am_your_host]

Emcee sees what you did there, Eric.

He dips his head with a slight blush anyway. He knows he's good at what he does, but humans are the standard. Pleasing a vampire like Eric is a whole different level.

"I've had a bit of practice," he murmurs with a quick, coy glance up at him.

They're going to have to move eventually.

Emcee tentatively shifts his hand, smearing the blood over Eric's lower abdomen as he does so. It's starting to dry. They should really go wash.

[onceaviking]

Eric seems to have reached the same conclusion and sits up straight, rolling his shoulders a couple of times.

His jeans never got pushed more than halfway down and so he gets rid of them first, leaving them pooled at his feet.

The blood looks very dark spattered across his white, smooth skin.

"And you like doing it?" he asks as he gets off the bed.
He certainly seems to.