For Emcee

[onceaviking]

Eric's room is neat, cool, and quiet.
He turns the light on as he steps through the door and it bathes the room in a soft glow.

The bed is made. White Egyptian cotton, a blue bedspread . it reminds him of waves.

He turns and looks at Emcee. Quietly.

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[i_am_your_host]

He feels Eric's release all too strongly and is caught up in another wave, clinging to his body for a moment until his limbs grow leaden, and they fall limply to his sides. Except for one hand, which remains on the back of Eric's head, fingers lightly threaded through his blond hair.

He lays almost silent and still underneath him, except for the sound of his hot, heavy panting. His skin is warm and damp with perspiration, but he shivers slightly at the touch of Eric's cool body.

[onceaviking]

He misses sweating.

Eric holds still for what seems like forever. And then he rubs his cheek against Emcee's sweaty collarbone.

Still inside him.

Another slow movement, this time his lips dragging along his jawline.

And then he pulls out.

[i_am_your_host]

The little gestures are almost...almost...affectionate.

Just like the way Emcee strokes the back of Eric's neck.

Just a byproduct of close, intimate contact.

He exhales a groaning sigh when Eric pulls out, reluctant to let him go. He feels the stickiness of blood on his inner thighs, but he doesn't care. Not now, when he's content to not move for a while.

[onceaviking]

Eric gets to his feet and stretches.
Pale, and naked, and spattered with blood.

He runs his fingers through his hair -
he likes having his har touched
- and looks down at Emcee.

"You okay?"

It's just a practicality. That's all.

[i_am_your_host]

He watches Eric from under heavy, hooded eyelids (he's beautiful as always, even spattered with blood -- maybe even more so, he's not sure at this point) before sighing again, and he slowly rolls over and curls up on his side. Looking small and pale. And completely exhausted.

"Mmhmm," he murmurs drowsily, closing his eyes.

"Just need a few minutes..."

This bedspread is so soft.

[onceaviking]

Eric stands there, looking down at him.
Then he reaches down and presses the tips of his fingers lightly against his warm, damp skin. Feeling his pulse.

Seemingly satisfied - he could gave just listened, but sometimes it's better to make sure - he heads for the bathroom.
His fingers brushing a few strands of hair away from his face as he removes his hand.

Accidentally.

[i_am_your_host]

He reactively shrugs a shoulder a little at the touch of Eric's cool fingers, exhaling a quiet hum. But he doesn't open his eyes or say anything. He's too tired.

Too tired to tell if Eric brushing his hair away from his face was an accident or not.

But he does warm up a tiny fraction. Could be from a tiny blush.

[onceaviking]

He smells nice like that.
Well-fucked and warm.

Eric heads into the bathroom and turns the shower on. He doesn't close the door completely and it doesn't take long before the warm steam slowly begins to spread to the rest of the room.

[i_am_your_host]

It's almost a Pavlovian response for him to get up and join Eric when he hears the shower running, but...in a little while. The bed is too comfortable for him to do anything about it.

Nearly half-asleep, he luxuriates in the softness of the sheets against his bare skin. He rubs his cheek against it, burying his face in it. He then suddenly remembers Eric saying that he could still smell him in the sheets after they'd had sex. When he was a woman. And he smiles a little.

He fades into sleep for a few minutes, drifting off so deeply that it feels longer than it actually was. And when he cracks open his eyelids, he sees steam coming through the open bathroom door. It looks inviting. Very inviting.

With a great amount of effort, he sits up and gets to his feet. His torn trousers are on the floor. Oh, well.

Padding toward the bathroom, he slips through the door, the steam engulfing him. He stands there for a moment, watching Eric.

"Mind if I hop in, darling?" he murmurs, already moving to join him.

[onceaviking]

And as has already been established a couple of times. Eric takes his showering seriously.
He is standing under the spray, running his hands over his body, suds trailing down his chest and belly.

He looks up at Emcee, squinting a little against the drops, and then he moves a little, making room.

He also reaches over to adjust the temperature.
Just a little, mind.

He is feeling fairly full and at the same time pleasantly empty. No thoughts. Well, none that can't be ignored for now.

"Ill foot the bill for a new pair of trousers," he offers.

[i_am_your_host]

The water is just comfortably hot. And there's just enough room to be comfortably close to Eric.

"Thank you," he replies, glancing up at him through the spray of water with a small, crooked smile. "As much as I prefer to be trousers-free, I can't go very far beyond a closed door without them."

He begins to wash the blood spatters off his face, throat, and legs.

[onceaviking]

"Hedonist," Eric says.
It doesn't sound like its a bad thing.

He begins to wash his hair, the movements bringing his biceps and his shoulder muscles very much to the front of the stage.
As it were.

"Are you healed okay?"
The blood on his skin is filling his nose. Distracting him.

[i_am_your_host]

"Of course."

Of course it isn't a bad thing.

Eric's brawny arms and shoulders distract him as he washes.

"I think so," he says in reply to his question, except that when he passes a hand over the side of his neck, he winces at a tender spot. He might still be bleeding a little. He turns and shows it to Eric.

In general, people shouldn't bare their bleeding necks to a vampire.

Also in general, people shouldn't shower with vampires, so the first point is moot.

[onceaviking]

Eric is suddenly very, very close.
"Yes," he whispers. "You are bleeding. A little."

He moves his hand up and touches his neck. Very, very gently.

And then Emcee is pressed against the wet tiles, and Eric is licking and kissing and nipping his neck, pressed against him.
Hard again.

[i_am_your_host]

He gasps sharply, suddenly with his back to the wall, Eric's mouth on his neck.

Surprise, fear, arousal. Almost in that order.

"Eric..."

And a little reluctance. He isn't sure if he can withstand another round right now.

But he tips his head back. One hand grasps Eric's shoulder, the other buries itself in his wet hair.

[onceaviking]

Eric's hands curl around his shoulders as he mouths the sticky skin.

And then he is kissing him. Aggressively.
At least to begin with.

The water is drumming on his neck and back. Emcee's mouth is warm. Soft.
Somehow his hands move up, to cradle his face.

And then he drags his mouth down to lick at the puncture wounds, biting down on his own tongue, and licking them again.

And returns to his lips.

[i_am_your_host]

Emcee's heart is beating hard and fast.

Aroused, yes, but mostly he has no idea what Eric will do next. And the things that he does end up doing...surprise him. A little.

His breath hitches, making his throat constrict. He blinks droplets of water from his eyelashes, licks them from his parted lips.

And then Eric's lips meet his. Along with the cool, salty-sweet tang of blood. Slowly, but growing bold, he deepens the kiss, his palms gliding down over his shoulders to splay over his chest.

[onceaviking]

He makes a small sound, halfway between a growl and a moan, and then he is pressing against Emcee hard, nipping at his neck with his front teeth.

He wants to bite him.
Fuck him.


Kiss him.


Another moan, somewhat more conflicted.

[i_am_your_host]

He gasps again, as he's pressed firmly between the wall and Eric's almost equally solid body. Running his hands down his torso, rippling with tension, he can feel his indecision as he randomly seeks out his lips, his neck, his blood -- it's enough to make his head spin.

"Darling," he murmurs raspily, "if you drink from me or fuck me now you might kill me. But if you give me more of your blood, then you can take what you want, short of my life."

[onceaviking]

Eric pulls back a little and looks searchingly at his face.
Running a thumb across his cheekbone.

"I had better not," he murmurs.
He doesn't say he doesn't want to hurt him.
Maybe he thinks it.

And he pulls his lips back and sheathes his fangs.

[i_am_your_host]

He blinks at him, brow slightly furrowed, a questioning look in his eyes.

The phrase you won't hurt me is on the tip of his tongue, but he doesn't say it aloud, because it might not be a promise Eric can keep.

Eric retracts his fangs. And Emcee kisses the corner of his mouth.

[onceaviking]

His fingers move briefly into Emcee's hair, rubbing a few strands between his fingers.

And then he is getting out of the shower to dry off, not looking at Emcee.

[i_am_your_host]

Emcee remains in the shower, still a little bewildered by Eric's behavior.

Eric has always been straightforward and practical with him, decisive but not demanding (sometimes). So his deviating from what he's used to from him might be cause for concern.

But he won't say anything. He's well aware that things haven't been going well for Eric in his world, and this could be a result of that.

So he stays, and quietly finishes washing up, letting Eric do what he will.

[onceaviking]

Eric prides himself on being practical. Straightforward.
Someone who takes control of whatever situation he finds himself in.

This - this slow erosion of everything is making him -

Things are difficult right now. That's the reason he wants - things.

He gets his jeans and is pulling them on. He'll go get some clothes for Emcee and something he can eat before leaving,
That is just being practical.

[i_am_your_host]

Emcee won't get over the concept of liquid soap.

He turns off the shower and steps out, pulling a fresh, fluffy towel off the rack to dry himself with. The last time, he actually thought it would be the last time. Perhaps this will be the last time. Or perhaps his chances of showering with Eric again are numbered.

Rubbing his hair with the towel, he wanders out into the main room. Eric is getting dressed.

"Where are you going?"