onceaviking | Eric's room

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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From:

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.

From:

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.

From:

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.

From:

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.

From:

onceaviking

That gets him a rumble.
And another half inch.

"Patience," Eric whispers. "Patience. "

From:

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.

From:

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.

From:

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.

From:

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.

From:

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.

From:

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.

From:

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..."

From:

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.

From:

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.

From:

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.

From:

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.

From:

onceaviking

"I would not have wanted to," Eric murmurs, returning his mouth to the wounds on Emcee's neck.

Sometimes he hadn't.

But that had been in the old days. Before they had to mindful of not killing anyone. Anyone anyone would care about anyway.

From:

i_am_your_host

He purrs and stretches his neck, turning his face into the sheets, rocking back against him and matching his slow pace.

"But I don't think I would have made a very good vampire," he adds between sighs, with a twitch of the corners of his lips.

That would be the other option, aside from killing him.

From:

onceaviking

Eric rumbles in reply.
"No. You're not ruthless enough."

From:

i_am_your_host

"Alas," he sighs deeply, which is almost overtaken with a moan.

He uncurls his fingers from the bedsheets and reaches back to run them through Eric's hair.

From:

onceaviking

That gets him a pleased hum. And a touch of Eric's lips just beneath his ear that almost (almost) could be a kiss.

From:

i_am_your_host

It's the little things that may or may not be what they seem. It's all right. Emcee will take them all the same.

Bracing himself on his knees, he raises his hips, continuing to rock in counterpoint to Eric's movements. Slow and steady, a marathoner's pace.

His fingertips trace down along Eric's neck, stroking his jaw.

The pleasure builds and builds, ebbing and flowing like waves. Sometimes Emcee comes close, very close, his breathing short and shallow as his moans rise in pitch. He would press back against Eric's body, trembling at the edge of a release. But he still manages to hold off. He may not be able to last all night, but he will go on for as long as he can.

From:

onceaviking

And at some point Eric licks his wounds closed and puts his hand on his neck instead. Holding him in a firm grip.
His thumb moving on his skin.

Moving out of reach, because he wants to look down at what he is doing.

From:

i_am_your_host

There's that huge, strong hand on his neck again, and he shudders hard, breathless in submission.

He glances over his shoulder at Eric, watching him watch. It's a dizzying turn-on.

He stops moving his hips, letting him simply fuck him, enjoying being fucked. But he does clench tightly around him each time he pulls out, wanting to draw out every sensation.