For Ganymede

[onceaviking]

Eric opens the door and lets Ganymede in.

The room is tidy and neat, with a couple of low chairs by an equally low table and a very large bed dominating the rest of the room.

He turns to look at Ganymede.
It is true what he told him. His blood is exquisite. And unique.
And he is very beautiful.

An ancient creature. With the face of a youth. The body.

It's a novelty. That's all.


And the only reason he is feeling this - whatever it is, hesitant perhaps - is the shit waiting for him at home.

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[the_cupbearer]

Ganymede is used to these kinds of rooms. He's lived in them most of his life; touches of the ancient all around, but contrary to modern belief not dirty in the least. He smiles at the furnishings gently, and turns to Eric with a graceful motion that might have been considered spontaneous there was so little broadcast of it.

"It suits you. This room does," he elaborates.

[onceaviking]

"I like it," Eric replies, taking hold of the hem of his short but not pulling it off just yet.
"Even if furniture has improved. I was much too tall for most of the Middle Ages to get comfortable anywhere."

Talking is good.

[the_cupbearer]

"I was never so tall," Ganymede chuckles, taking Eric's hand on the hem of his shirt, "But I remember the middle ages. It was no more fun for me than you, but I avoided most of Europe. It wasn't so bad elsewhere."

[onceaviking]

Eric dips his head to smell the warm skin where Ganymede's shoulder and neck meet.
Smell his blood.

"We travelled a lot," he murmurs. "Europe. Asia. Africa too, but that was later, when transport got easier."

[the_cupbearer]

"Travel is what we do, isn't it?" he asks, tilting his head and bringing an arm up to wrap loosely around Eric's shoulders, fingers tunnelling into his hair.

[onceaviking]

Eric runs his cool lips up the side of his neck and along his jaw.
"Yes," he almost whispers. "To avoid suspicion. And to - "

A kiss.

"Experience everything there is,"

[the_cupbearer]

"Everything is an awful lot," he says quietly, turning his head to brush his nose and lips against Eric's cheek. "You have time. Here, you have time," Ganymede murmurs.

"Come lay down, and I'll show you."

[onceaviking]

He allows Ganymede to lead him to the bed and lies down, touching him as he does so.
His fingers are gentle. Almost hesitant.

[the_cupbearer]

"You're nervous," he murmurs. "Why?"

[onceaviking]

"I'm not-" he begins.
Then he stops.

After a pause, he says, "Everything takes on new meaning when they might end."

[the_cupbearer]

"What meaning does this have?" he asks,drawing his fingertips gently down Eric's arm. "New or old, tell me. Just talk."

[onceaviking]

Eric leans in and presses a kiss to his jaw.
And whiles does unable to look him in the eye, he says, "My Maker was ancient. And. A boy, and if miss him."

[the_cupbearer]

"Do I remind you of him?" Ganymede asks, idly stroking the vampire's shoulders, and down his biceps with featherlight touches. He isn't making this sexual, not yet or any more than it already is, but that can change in a moment.

[onceaviking]

"Not really," Eric murmurs against Ganymede's skin, as he lets his hands come to rest at his hips.

"And yet - he seemed so fragile. Sometimes."

Seemed.

[the_cupbearer]

"Sometimes?" Ganymede echoes, sliding his palms down Eric's arms until they rest on the muscles just above his wrist. He can feel any motion of his fingers there, like the cords on a piano being hammered under his fingers.

"And do I seem fragile to you?"

[onceaviking]

"Yes."
It's whispered close to Ganymede's ear.
"I have to be careful all the time. So I won't hurt you. "

He will be able to feel the restlessness of Eric's fingers, on his skin and in the movements under Ganymede's win.

"And even though he could tear me apart, I - couldn't help being careful with him too."

And then he chases Ganymede's mouth with his own. Maybe so he doesn't have to say anything more. Many just so he won't.

[the_cupbearer]

"You won't tear me apart," he murmurs, lifting a hand to lift Eric's chin. "You haven't yet."

He's not worried; he never really has been. And as he kisses he thinks maybe he's beyond worry about men in bed with him at this point. Even the dangerous ones.

[onceaviking]

As the kiss deepens, Eric's hands begin to move more assuredly.
This is know.
Safe.

One of his hands ends up in Ganymede's hair and when he breaks the kiss he turns his face away and lets his fangs come down. Hard.

[the_cupbearer]

"It's alright, Eric," Ganymede says quietly. "Come here. You can bite me." He's never hurt him doing it before; occasionally there's been discomfort, yes, but the two aren't interchangeable.

[onceaviking]

Eric breathes, slowly, as he turns his head to face Ganymede.
His lips are pulled back, exposing almost the full length of his fangs, and his pupils are drowning out the blue of his eyes.

He leans in and bites down on Ganymede's neck, stroking his cheek and the corner of his mouth with one large, cold, careful hand.

[the_cupbearer]

He isn't smiling, really; Ganymede sets his teeth against his lip and tilts his head to expose his neck.

Talking isn't comfortable at all in this position, and breathes deep as he covers Eric's hand with his own.

[onceaviking]

Eric lets out a soft moan and presses close, sliding one leg on top of Ganymede.
He is hard.

He retracts his fangs and returns his attention to the wounds, licking, suckling, kissing.
Touching his face with his fingertips, sliding his fingers into his hair.

[the_cupbearer]

The fingertips on his face get a soft smile from Ganymede, closing his eyes as they trace lines down his cheeks and nose, over his lips.

"You seem to like touching my face," he murmurs,a little laugh evident in his voice.

[onceaviking]

Eric swallows - a strangely loud sound, pressed as close as he is - and murmurs, "Yes. It reminds me -"

His voice trails off as his tongue darts out to lick at the bloodied skin on Ganymede's neck.

[the_cupbearer]

"Of what?" he asks, twisting enough to spread his legs, bending one around Eric's thigh. He can feel the man pressing against his belly and dislikes being utterly passive; he's hardly that much of a pillow queen.

"Reminds you of what, Eric?"

[onceaviking]

Eric pulse away. Just a little. Just enough to look at Ganymede and whisper, "I can't talk about it. There are - it's -"

His lips are wet with blood. He still leans in to kiss him.
Kissing is good.
You can't talk when you kiss.

He doesn't have the words to explain this, not been to himself. Inside.

[the_cupbearer]

Ganymede is just about as used to men saying that to him as you'd think; still he takes the kiss, and curls his fingers in the hair at the nape of Eric's neck, smearing it over his mouth.

"If you didn't want me to talk," he murmurs once it's broken, wet lips having separated, "You should have gagged me." Blood darkens his teeth until his tongue swipes it away, used to the bitter metallic taste in his mouth. He shoves off the bed on one side, turning them over so he's sitting up with his legs parted around the vampire's waist. "Tell me. Why did you invite me up here this time?"

[onceaviking]

Eric slides his arms around him, holding him tightly.
"No," he says. "I want to hear your voice."

Kissing his neck again.

"I want to make you moan."

[the_cupbearer]

"Then you'd best get started," he murmurs, leaning in with hands braced on Eric's shoulders. "If you intend to make me do anything."

[onceaviking]

Eric closes his eyes and lets his lips slide across Ganymede's. Exploring his face at first, then his neck, then his shoulder. Listening to what his blood, his pulse, tells him.

[the_cupbearer]

"What does it tell you?" he asks quietly.

[onceaviking]

"What you like. What makes you frightened."
His voice is soft.

"If you want me."

[the_cupbearer]

"And do I?" he asks silkily, tilting his head to brush his lips over Eric's cheek.

[onceaviking]

"Yes."

But he doesn't sound as self assured as he normally does.