For Athelstan

[onceaviking]

Eric has left the door ajar.

He is inside, seated in one of the low chairs, his bare feet resting on the wolf pelt in front of it.
Watching the door.

There's a carafe and one glass on the table.
The bed is turned down.

The light is dim.

Comments

[athelstanthescribe]

Athelstan's eyes are fixed on him, drinking in the sight of his body and one hand slipping down to his cock as he waits.

The anticipation is almost unbearable, but he makes no sound until Eric touches him, then it's a whimper of desire.

[onceaviking]

Eric has retracted his fangs and when he bends his head to kiss Athelstan's mouth, he feels like any other man. If somewhat cooler to the touch.

[athelstanthescribe]

The coolness is noticeable, of course, but it's not what matters most here.

He arches up, kissing Eric back hungrily.

[onceaviking]

Eric presses close, hard and eager, breaking the kiss to suckle the soft skin right below Athelstan's ear.
Reaching down between them to line himself up.

[athelstanthescribe]

He moans at the feeling of Eric's mouth on his skin, even without fangs, doing what he can to help position them quickly.

"Eric", he grates out. "Please."

[onceaviking]

"There" Eric whispers as he slowly, slowly presses into him.
Carefully.
Relentlessly.

[athelstanthescribe]

His head falls back on the pillow, every muscle arching with the fulfilled anticipation.

Eric's being so slow and almost gentle, and Athelstan's caught between being glad of it and longing for something else, something it would probably be dangerous to ask of a vampire.

[onceaviking]

Eric growls as he presses deeper. Loosing himself in the heat.

He wants to tear him apart. And kiss him. And drain him.

He drops a kiss on Athelstan's cheek.

[athelstanthescribe]

Athelstan thrusts back against him, wanting him deeper, faster, now.

He's finding it hard to remember why he had Eric stop drinking earlier.

[onceaviking]

Eric starts moving, grabbing hold of Athelstan's hip with a small snarl.
If he wants it fast -

[athelstanthescribe]

He cries out in pleasure, and it's clear that was exactly what he wanted.

Fast, and hard, and just the right amount of rough.

[onceaviking]

Eric settles into a rhythm he enjoys, dominated by fast, short thrusts. Moving Athelstan's hips with his hands after a little while, tilting him so he can go deeper.

[athelstanthescribe]

Athelstan wraps his legs around Eric's waist, making it easier to stay where Eric wants him and move back against him, matching his rhythm.

He can't restrain the sounds of pleasure, a gasp or a moan or a cry with every thrust, and building.

[onceaviking]

And Eric's lips return to the hot, soft skin beneath his ear. Briefly.
It is too tempting.

His fangs ache.

[athelstanthescribe]

"Do you want more?" he asks, panting. "If I can spare it, take it. Take it."

He knows Eric doesn't want to kill him, because if he kills him, he'll never taste such pure blood again. And Eric will know if it's safe.

[onceaviking]

His fangs slam down and he buries them in Athelstan's neck again, increasing his pace.
Taking him fully. Wholly.
Completely.

Even if it will all be much too short a pleasure.

[athelstanthescribe]

Athelstan bucks against him in ecstasy, his heart racing and his cries coming harsh and hoarse - well, Eric did promise to make him scream.

He knows this absolute pleasure can't last, he doesn't have that much to give, but he's going to take every last drop of it while it does.

[onceaviking]

Eric growls wetly against his skin, and slides one arm under his body. Holding him in place.
Holding him.


{ooc: bedtime}

[athelstanthescribe]

In this moment, with Eric in him and on him and holding him, and everything a blur of sensation drowning thought, Athelstan would lie there and let himself be drained.

But that isn't going to happen.

[onceaviking]

It isn't.

But not because Eric isn't sorely tempted.
He is.

But after a little while, he pulls his mouth away with a groan, bites his own tongue, and licks the wounds closed. Shifting his angle once again. Just a little.

[athelstanthescribe]

Athelstan lets out a groan in turn as Eric moves, his legs tightening around Eric's waist. Pulling him deeper, and keeping him there as best he can.

[onceaviking]

And Eric tangles his fingers in his hair and starts moving again, whispering words in his ear. Words in the tongue of his youth.
Words.

[athelstanthescribe]

Words. If Eric likes words, Athelstan will try to give him words... words in Norse, and words in the language of his youth that he hasn't spoken properly in months.

They may not make much sense, but they're all either 'yes', or 'like that' or asking him not to stop.

[onceaviking]

They seem to work.
They certainly fuel the fire as it were.
And up the speed.

Eric kisses Athelstan and leaves a slick trail of blood behind. His own.
Just so he won't break him.

[athelstanthescribe]

He licks the blood from his lips, savouring the burst of fresh energy it always brings him, and arches once more against Eric's body.