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]

It's the kind of look that would cause all of Emcee's clothing to instantaneously fall off.

As it is, all he can do is shed his coat, leaving it in a heap on the floor, followed by his shirt. He approaches Eric, his chin tucked in submissively but his eyes raised to meet his.

"Let me make you hard first," he offers.

Being fed on while Eric is aroused has its own special kind of thrill.

[onceaviking]

Eric smiles a little at this.
"Okay," he says.

This might take his mind off of things. He could do with that.

[i_am_your_host]

Emcee is a professional at taking people's minds off of things.

He stands toe-to-toe with Eric for a moment, lowering his eyes as he lightly rests his hands on Eric's hips. He lifts the hem of Eric's shirt, tugging it a little, as if a wordless request for him to take it off, because ugh, clothing.

He then sinks down to his knees.

[onceaviking]

Eric gets the hint and takes off his shirt, revealing hard muscles and pale skin.

This is good.
Far removed from the events of a few nights ago which, although he would be hard pressed to admit it, is good. It makes it easier.

He rolls his shoulders a little and watches Emcee.

[i_am_your_host]

His gaze flicks up to take in the sight of his body, and he exhales a heated sigh that drifts over Eric's cool skin. He skims his hands down his muscular thighs clad in tight black denim, before undoing the fly with quick, nimble fingers. Pushing the waistband of his jeans just far enough to free his cock, he leans forward to sweep his tongue along the length of its shaft.

[onceaviking]

One of Eric's large hands drifts down and settles on Emcee's shoulder as he widens his stance a little.

Arching his lips. His tongue.
The pulse at the side of his neck,

[i_am_your_host]

He shivers a little under Eric's heavy hand, but he doesn't falter. In fact he's encouraged by these little cues, by now familiar, to continue.

And so he indulgently paints his cock with another slow swipe of his tongue, as cool as marble as the rest of his body. With wet lips he then mouths along its side, occasionally flicking at it with the tip of his tongue. At the same time he strokes it with his fingers, before wrapping them around its base to keep it steady, as he slides it into his mouth.

He rests his free hand on the ridge of muscle just above Eric's hip. And his eyelids flutter closed as he takes in the length of his cock.

[onceaviking]

And Eric moans as he keeps watching him.

It's a small, soft sound, almost unguarded.

it's only Mausi

He can smell him. His arousal, his saliva, his skin.
His blood.

Hot and fast and sweet.

He moans again and splays the fingers on Emcee's shoulder.

[i_am_your_host]

He tries to keep his breathing steady and controlled. It's hot on the slick skin of Eric's cock as he slowly bobs his head back and forth. And he takes him in deeply, wanting to feel him grow harder in his mouth, in his throat, for pleasing Eric pleases him, and his soft moans send more shivers down his spine. He purrs in response, the sound reverberating around his cock.

[onceaviking]

That earns him more moans, a quickly hardening cock, and fingers that suddenly tighten a little on his shoulder.

Only a little.

Eric is being careful.

[i_am_your_host]

Yes.

Uttering another muffled groan, he slips his hand a little higher up his torso to splay over his stomach.

He then swallows deeply, constricting around his cock, and as he pulls back, he stiffens the tip of his tongue, dragging it along its underside.

Something to make Eric's fangs ache.

[onceaviking]

Emcee knows him well by now.

The movements of his throat around him makes him shudder but the pointy tongue makes his fangs slam down and pulls a sharp hiss from him.

[i_am_your_host]

The sound of his fangs dropping hard and the feral hiss that accompanies it drives a strained noise from his throat. He gives Eric one more deep pull on his cock, repeating the stroke with his tongue, before he releases him to catch his breath. He braces himself on his hips, panting hard against his abdomen. Slowly, he tips his head back, raising his eyes to him.

Eric doesn't have to be gentle with him; just careful enough.

[onceaviking]

Eric's lips are parted, leaving room for his fangs.
His eyes are dark and fixed in Emcee's lips.

Warm. Wet.
Plump.
Blood filled.

His upper lip twitches violently as he reaches down to grasp Emcee's arms and pull him to his feet.

[i_am_your_host]

He's lifted to his feet as if he weighed nothing and he stands there breathless in Eric's grasp, trembling with fear and arousal racing through his blood. Eyelashes fluttering as they refuse to blink, he stares at his huge, white fangs and the animalistic curl to his lips.

Even as his willing prey he still has the urge to struggle, and Eric may feel it. But even so, he tilts his head back slightly. And he braces himself for the first bite, wherever it may be.

[onceaviking]

He feels the trembling, the urge to flee. He smells the arousal and the fear. And he growls as he dips his head, enveloping Emcee with his arms.

Holding him in place.

Holding him.

Biting down on the left side of his neck, moaning as the hot blood floods his mouth.

[i_am_your_host]

He cries out in pain, squeezing his eyes shut and gasping at the sensation.

He can feel Eric's rock hard cock pressed against his belly. And his equally solid arms around him make it impossible to move.

It may be a deadly embrace, but it's a thrilling one.

Once he has the wherewithal to do so, he loosely folds his arms around Eric's middle, his hands roaming the broad expanse of his back.

[onceaviking]

Eric drinks, the sounds wet and intimate.
And then he rubs his hard cock against Emcee as he drags his mouth away to bite down again, further down his neck.
Growling a little.

[i_am_your_host]

He gasps sharply again, arching his back as he digs his fingertips into Eric's muscles. Eric's mouth works at his neck, his lips and tongue slick and sensual and hungry.

Exhaling a shuddering moan, he's caught between clinging to him and pulling away. But he couldn't pull away even if he wanted to. Eric's hold on him is too strong. And besides, he truly wouldn't. And perhaps the notion is a little terrifying in and of itself.

He presses his hips and thighs against Eric's. He himself is hard, and he's desperate for more friction.

[onceaviking]

Eric reaches down and lifts him up, not moving his lips and fangs from his neck.

Seemingly intent on devouring him utterly and completely.
He kneels down, his knees on the edge of the bed, and lies Emcee down, covering him with his own body. Heavy and cold and hard.

And then he moves his mouth away so he can bite down on his own tongue and lick all of the wounds closed.

[i_am_your_host]

His breath hitches and his head spins when he's picked up and laid on the bed. Eric pins him down with his size and weight, and he tips his head back, expecting him to bite him again. Instead he feels his tongue on his skin, licking him in that familiar way, and he exhales a shivering sigh, his eyelids fluttering.

[onceaviking]

And then his tongue is replaced with the tips of his fangs. Resting against his skin.
A threat.
A promise.

Eric slowly tilts his hips as he exhales, his cold breath chilling Emcee's flushed skin.

[i_am_your_host]

He feels the points of his fangs pressing against his skin and a whimper escapes his throat.

His fingers curl around Eric's shoulders, as he shifts and writhes underneath his body with restless anticipation, wanting him to bite him or fuck him or both.

[onceaviking]

That sound...

Emcee was wearing trousers.
He isn't anymore.

Sorry about that Emcee. Eric will buy you new ones.

And Eric's fangs are buried in Emcee's neck again, as one of his huge, cold hands grabs hold of Emcee's hip.
Holding him in place again.

[i_am_your_host]

Things happen too quickly for him to process that his trousers have literally been ripped off of him.

Even then it doesn't matter (they were old and kind of threadbare and he didn't need them anyway and Eric tearing his clothes off is hot) because he's being bitten into again. The cry of pain and surprise is instantaneous, and he claws at his shoulders as he's held in Eric's iron grip. Arching his neck and back, he gives himself over to him to do what he wants, to take what he wants.