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.

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[i_am_your_host]

He shuts his eyes with a shiver at Eric's cold, heavy touch that travels the length of his body. Eric has never touched him like this before. It's surprising. And an exquisite turn-on.

He gasps against the sheets when his hand settles on the back of his neck; a whimper escapes him when he feels his weight on him. Trembling, he further parts his thighs.

This is far too arousing to be lazy.

[onceaviking]

Eric dips his head as he breathes in the scent of warm skin and hot blood. Letting his fangs drop.
Nd at the same time he reaches down to line up his cock. Cold, blunt pressure and the promise of being fed upon.

[i_am_your_host]

He pants deeply, fingers curling into the sheets when he feels Eric press against him, his heart rate spiking at the sound of his fangs dropping. He stretches and arches underneath him like a cat, bracing himself on his knees to raise his hips, eager for Eric to take him.

[onceaviking]

And Eric in turn tilts his hips. Slowly.
Just as he runs his parted lips (and the smooth length of his fangs) down the side of Emcee's neck.

[i_am_your_host]

Eyelids fluttering, he tilts his head against the mattress, stretching his neck under the cool sweep of Eric's lips and teeth. His breathing quickens with the teasing, as a sighing whine escapes his throat.

[onceaviking]

"Thus can take all night," Eric murmurs in his ear.
"All night."

Another, slower, roll of his hips.

[i_am_your_host]

Emcee has spent time with people who claimed they could go all night. Most weren't literal about it. Some actually were able to keep at it for a couple of hours at a time, but breaks were needed. Right now, he's fairly sure that Eric means every word of what he's saying. With no interruptions.

He gasps and shudders hard at his voice in his ear, his cool breath on his skin. Swallowing, he opens his eye(s) a crack, slanting Eric a look over his shoulder.

"Then you're buying me breakfast, lunch, and dinner when we're done."

[onceaviking]

"Mmm," Eric rumbles and moves his hips again. And his lips.
Slowly.

Had Emcee been a woman, he'd likely have found himself presented with a box filled with glittery things at some point. As it stands, he will get food.

"The only question is,"Eric murmurs in his ear, "how long you will last?"

[i_am_your_host]

He exhales a soft, sighing moan, his eyes rolling closed. Eric's body, his lips, his voice are already almost too much to bear -- and he hasn't even started yet.

"You know I wouldn't want to disappoint you, darling," he purrs breathlessly, his face half-buried against the sheets. "But we can always find out."

[onceaviking]

Eric leans fully on one hand and takes hold around Emcee's shoulder with the other.
Tightly.
Close to where shoulder meets neck.

He can feel his pulse jump in his hand.


He is being lazy of course. It stands to reason that this is a fitting way to celebrate having survived the sun, but finding several partners to fill his night with is too much work where there is someone willing and eager right here.

So, lazy in more senses than one,

He rolls his hips again and moves his hand, replacing it with the tips of his fangs.

[i_am_your_host]

Again, Eric's large, cool hand on him sends a shudder through his body, submissive to his firm grasp. Between his fingers and his fangs keeping Emcee in place, Emcee can only moan and writhe with mounting pleasure at the slow roll of his hips.

He keeps his neck stretched out and his thighs sprawled, inviting Eric to take what he wants.

[onceaviking]

And so he guides himself with his now freed hand. Just the tip, mind.

They do have all nigh.

Licking his skin with his cool tongue.

[i_am_your_host]

Emcee lets out a muffled groan. The build-up is so intense that it feels as if Eric is actually, fully fucking him, and he clenches around whatever part of him he can.

He's almost burning with lust, wanting Eric so badly. Eric's tongue doesn't do much to cool him down.

[onceaviking]

That gets him a rumble.
And another half inch.

"Patience," Eric whispers. "Patience. "

[i_am_your_host]

But there's so much Eric left to go!

He exhales a whine, hands fisted in the sheets on either side of his head. But he melts a little at the whisper, and he resolves to take deep breaths and pace himself, which is easier said than done.

"I was never any good with that particular virtue," he remarks wryly, his voice low and rasping.

[onceaviking]

"Practice makes perfect," Eric murmurs. And then he leans down and bites him.

Biting is not something you can do lazily. You can however adjust the pull of your mouth and the movements of your lips.

[i_am_your_host]

He gasps sharply at the bite, tensing up at the piercing pain but letting the other sensations wash over him, of Eric's mouth on his skin, of his cock only just pressing into him.

Soon enough he finds that the airy lightheadedness that comes from being fed upon makes you forget and lose track of time. You drift in and out, back and forth between the pleasure and pain. At least, that's how it feels with Eric.

[onceaviking]

Eric cradles Emcee's upper body, when he finally, finally sheaths himself fully. Rocking into the warmth.

He is drinking shallowly, mindful that he has been feeding on him frequently lately. And his hands move across his body from time to time.

He is very warm.

[i_am_your_host]

It's a complete contrast to how Eric fucked him last night. Slow, excruciatingly so, and almost-- gently. He didn't think Eric was actually capable of a sustained lazy screw, but he's not above admitting he was wrong.

He even pushes back against Eric's hips as they rock hypnotically, lulling him into a haze of ecstasy. He purrs and moans with heady delight, arching against his indulgent touch and the press of his body. It's a much slower buildup for him than is usual between them, but he manages to hold back, to hover in that zone of perpetual pleasure.

[onceaviking]

It's different. A little like how he might take a woman. If she held his interest. And so his touch grows a little more gentle, as he strokes Emcee's sides. His face.

And there is the slow movement, almost all the way out - and back. Deep, deep into the heat of a living body, full of life and blood.

And there is the seeping blood, slowly filling his mouth over and over, coaxed along by nips and kisses and an inquisitive tongue.

[i_am_your_host]

Emcee's slender build might heighten that illusion. Smooth skin, narrow waist, graceful movement, soft sighing sounds and whispers.

(Sometimes he thinks his feminine side is what keeps Eric from seriously hurting him.)

Each time Eric slides every solid inch of himself into him, he's pushed further and further into that dizzied state of toe-curling arousal. The blood flows from his wounds, which Eric so attentively and hungrily tends to. The nibbles make him jump but he doesn't mind; his probing tongue stings and tickles at the same time, the sensation seemingly reaching every nerve ending in his body; his kisses are always dreamy.

And for a moment, perhaps a short one or a long one, he can't tell anymore-- it feels as if he's dreaming.

"Eric, darling," he murmurs breathlessly, "I think-- I need your blood-- if I'm to go on..."

[onceaviking]

Nothing happens.

And then Eric moves his face (his bloodied face) from Emcee's neck to his face, murmuring, "And it has barely been an hour yet," with a smile that seems amused and perhaps even a little fond. Or would seem that way if not for the fangs and the blood.

He bites down on his tongue, a show of fangs and drawn back lips and a sound that is much too loud. And then he leans down and kisses him.

Still rolling his hips.

[i_am_your_host]

He blinks at the fanged, bloody smile, his eyes fixed on Eric's stained lips when he speaks. He has no answer, dazed as he is, even more so at the crunch of flesh that sounds even stranger next to his ear. But when their mouths meet, he drinks eagerly from his kiss, feeling the life seep back into his limbs.

"I would have made it to two hours if I weren't bleeding," he says in a wry purr against Eric's wet, sticky lips.

[onceaviking]

"So I would have had to cut it short anyway," Eric says, reaching down to tilt his hips, going deeper still.
Slowly. Slowly.

"In the far north, the sun doesn't rise at all in winter. It just dyes the horizon red before sinking back down again. There is no need to stop."

And every soft spoken word is lightly punctuated by his hips.

[i_am_your_host]

He lets his head rest fully on the mattress again, closing his eyes as Eric's blood surges through his veins, coloring the sound of his words, enhancing every thrust of his hips. He runs his tongue over his lips, tasting Eric, tasting himself.

"I would not have wanted you to stop."

The thought of an endless night is both enchanting and frightening at the same time.