Eric's room

[onceaviking]

Eric switches on the light as he unlocks the door and steps inside.

The room is quiet. Neat.
The bed turned down, the desk empty.

He hadn't figured he'd be back.

He lets Emcee come inside and then he locks the door behind them.

Comments

[i_am_your_host]

He touches Eric's arm.

"Maybe Godric saw that you are more than what you think you are."

Maybe, just maybe, a little bit human.

"You know yourself best, darling. But what you are and who you are, are not the same thing."

[onceaviking]

"This is what he made," Eric says, sounding almost upset.
"This is who I am."

[i_am_your_host]

"But you are not made of stone," he replies in earnest. "And neither was Godric."

One could make an argument for Pam, but he won't mention that aloud.

[onceaviking]

"I didn't want him to change. I just wanted him -"

To stay. To not die.

To stay dead and not show up and make impossible demands.

[i_am_your_host]

He slips his warm fingers down to rest on the back of Eric's hand.

"This is beyond your control, Eric. And it's beyond anything I can say to make sense of it."

[onceaviking]

"I hate not being in control, " Eric says, softly.
And then he pulls Emcee close and kisses him brutally.

Maybe mostly to shut himself up.

[i_am_your_host]

Before Emcee can even consider a reply to that, he's suddenly pulled into a crushing, thrilling kiss that takes his breath away. With a whimper, he submits to Eric's unrelenting mouth, leaning on his thighs to keep himself upright.

[onceaviking]

Eric's big hands are on either side of his face, holding him in place.
He kisses like a conqueror, like this is the only thing he wants right now.

Maybe it is.

[i_am_your_host]

If Eric wants control, then he has it. He may look strong and intimidating, but being held in his iron grip is another thing altogether.

Emcee leans into his hold, as he slides his hands up his thighs.

[onceaviking]

Maybe he knew it would be like this.
He deepens the kiss - and slides his hands down so he can lift Emcee into his lap.

You don't really get a choice when a vampire wants to move you around.

[i_am_your_host]

Eric can put him wherever he wants as far as he's concerned.

So when he finds himself being lifted up, he willingly straddles his lap, without breaking contact between their mouths. He sighs and moans against Eric's relentless kiss, his breath quick and hot against his cheek.

His fingers fumble for the zipper on Eric's track suit jacket and tugs at it. He needs to feel his cool, hard chest under his hands.

[onceaviking]

And there it is.
Cold and hard and still.

One of his hands move back to cup the back of Encee's head. He growls a little against his warm lips.
Hungrily.

[i_am_your_host]

Eric's hand at the back of his head makes him arch against his body in supplication, offering himself. The familiar growl sends a hard shudder of arousal through him, and he spreads his jacket open, warm hands sweeping over cold skin and solid muscle.

[onceaviking]

Eric's mouth moves from Emcee's lips to his invitingly arched neck and rests there, briefly.
Feeling the thrill of the blood rushing through his veins.

Then he drops fang, lips curled back, and bites down.

[i_am_your_host]

When Eric breaks the kiss, he's left panting hard, his jaw slack and lips tingling. But he won't have a chance to fully catch his breath, as Eric's mouth makes its way to his bared neck. He tenses up in anticipation, pressing against his body--

--and he jerks with a sharp cry at the stab of pain. He can feel his blood flow slick and hot over his skin, and he squeezes his eyes shut with a sighing groan, his hands splayed over Eric's chest.

[onceaviking]

At the jerk, one of Eric's hands settle on his back.
And begins to move, slowly, slowly, up and down his back, while he drinks. His mouth working the wounds.

He's hard now.

[i_am_your_host]

The feel of Eric's tongue and lips force a whimper from his throat, the sounds of hunger and want making his toes curl.

Eric's touch is oddly comforting, but cold. He shivers almost uncontrollably against his body, but he's missed this -- the raw thrill of being fed on, in the clutches of a predator who could so easily break him.

One hand boldly slides up Eric's neck, fingers burying themselves in his hair. His hips move, slowly grinding down against the hardness between his legs.

[onceaviking]

Eric puts an arm around him and gets up, the movement smoother than had he still been human. Though he'd likely have been able to lift Emcee off of his lap then as well.

And while he licks at his neck, he carries him to the bed. Effortlessly.
Laying him down and climbing on top of him. Effortlessly.
Grinding down.

[i_am_your_host]

He gasps softly when Eric gets to his feet, taking him with him. He clings to his neck even though he doesn't have to, so easily does he carry him to the bed. And when he's laid down, he stops shivering though the bedspread is cool on his back.

He gasps again, sharper, louder, when he grinds down on him. This is what he wants.

[onceaviking]

And Eric lavishes attention on his neck again. Licking the skin, rubbing his face against the warmth and the promise of blood.

He growls again. And reaches down to push his track suit pants out of the way.

[i_am_your_host]

He tips his head back and to the side, his lips grazing Eric's temple as he rakes his fingers through his hair.

"Careful that you don't-- ruin another pair of trousers," he jokes, gasping.

Although he's not sure that Eric cares. Hell, he doesn't really care either.

[onceaviking]

Eric pulls his mouth away and whispers, "Then you'd better take them off, won't you?"

[i_am_your_host]

He breathes a delirious little noise that's supposed to be a chuckle.

But he quickly reaches down between them to undo his fly and shove his trousers down off his hips. Wriggling free of them, he kicks them loose and settles back down on the mattress.

He then sweeps his hands over Eric's chest, pushing his track suit jacket off his shoulders. Eric's turn to take something off.

[onceaviking]

Eric doesn't seem to mind. Or to notice really.
All of his attention is once again back on Emcee's neck.

The muscles on his back ripple as he moves on top of him, cold and smooth. And then he is biting him again, hard.

Touching his face.

[i_am_your_host]

He grips his shoulders to brace himself for the next bite, and when it comes, he exhales a breathy cry, arching against his cold, hard, heavy body.

Succumbing to the pain and the pleasure, he sighs Eric's name as his eyelids flutter closed, the touch on his face a contrast to the feral sounds of hunger. One hand blindly explores the vast and broad expanse of Eric's back; the other finds its way into his hair again.