Eric's room - Ganymede

[onceaviking]

Eric's room is furnished with low chairs and a massive bed. All dark wood and jewel toned fabric.
Heavy drapes give the illusion of windows where there is in fact nothing but walls.

He opens the door and lets Ganymede in.

Comments

[the_cupbearer]

"I have to assume you won't be killing me over this," Ganymede says, conversational as always, as he steps through the door on light bare feet; he'd be silent were it not for the bell anklet he's got clasped around one leg.

[onceaviking]

"I never kill, when I am here," Eric replies as he shrugs off his jacket.

"You seem awfully cavalier about this? Are you very familiar with my kind? "

[the_cupbearer]

"With people who drink blood?" he asks. "Yes, I am."

He thinks back to Nikola, to Aubrey, and even his current lover, who does drink blood, even if it isn't his. "I have little reason to fear you for just that."

[onceaviking]

"Good," Eric says. "And you enjoy it?"
He bends to remove his own boots.

[the_cupbearer]

"I've enjoyed it more than I've disliked it," he says. "Does that answer you?"

[onceaviking]

Eric chuckles.

"That it does. And what do you expect in return?? "

Bartering like a common whore, when he should just take. This place is infuriating.

[the_cupbearer]

"Your name would be a good start," Ganymede laughs, tossing his head once as he works the buttons of his shirt undone.

"I hardly want anything from you; it's not as if I'll never recoup the blood loss."

[onceaviking]

"I am called Eric Northman," Eric replies, not at all unhappy with that answer.

"Do you prefer to have your neck or your wrist bitten? "

[the_cupbearer]

"Eric," he repeats contemplatively, as if testing the name in his mouth. It fits the blonde.

"I have no preference." Really, what sort of answer is the vampire expecting for that? Ganymede shrugs out of his shirt--the scars wrapping around his arm from wrist to above the elbow now visible--and lets it fall. "Do you?"

[onceaviking]

Eric steps close. "Neck, I think."

His eyes move down, briefly. "What happened to your arm?"

[the_cupbearer]

He flexes his hand, balling it into a fist and letting it go. "A very large bird with a very short temper," he murmurs, looking own at his arm, twisting his neck. "It's all right."

[onceaviking]

"So the stories are true then," Eric murmurs as he bends his head to snif along Ganymede's neck.

[the_cupbearer]

He stills, and moves a shoulder as Eric's mouth skims his skin. "It is," Ganymede murmurs softly. "That one, anyway."

[onceaviking]

Eric pulls back a little and drops fang.

"I wonder," he says, his voice slightly different now that the fangs are down, "if those favored by the gods taste differently."


And then he bites.

[the_cupbearer]

He barely has time to gasp in a breath before the fangs pierce his skin, and Ganymede stiffens for just a second. He relaxes almost immediately, letting his head fall to expose his neck further.

"Oh..." he breathes.

[onceaviking]

Eric slides one large, cold hand up to keep his head in place and continues to suckle Ganymede's neck.

His lips are as cool as the rest of him, as are his tongue.

[the_cupbearer]

The hand makes it easier; Ganymede can relax, not have to think about keeping his head entirely still lest he force the vampire's fangs through anything more dangerous. He stays still, and quiet, breathing only shuddering gently when he feels his arms break out in gooseflesh.

"Do I taste different?" he asks, voice soft as a whisper.

[onceaviking]

Eric pulls back a little and murmurs, "Oh yes. There is something there, like a memory of fire. Thunder. Honey."
The last word turns into a purr as he dips his head again.

He can drink a little more, without trouble. And then he, sadly, had better pull back for real.

[the_cupbearer]

The shiver that crawls up his spine is probably easy for Eric to feel with the way Ganymede's back stretches and curves at the word thunder. It isn't that he's afraid of storms; he quite likes watching them, the more violent the better. But the circumstances all join at the moment to make Eric's voice sound quite erotic indeed.

"How much do you need from me?" He doesn't mind being stuck here for a little while until he can, say, walk; but he doesn't know if that's a concern for Eric too.

[onceaviking]

Eric moves his lips away from Ganymede's skin again with a wet sound.

"I would love to drink you dry,"he whispers, "but that wouldn't do. So a little more."

He returns to the task at hand.