For Athelstan

[onceaviking]

Eric's room is cool and dark.

He switches on the bedside lamp. It's golden pool of light illuminates the bed and casts most other things into shadow.

Comments

[athelstanthescribe]

He's still catching his breath from being transported at superhuman speed, his hands tight on Eric's arm.

"Feeding first, or both at once?"

[onceaviking]

He lets his fangs drop and says, "Feeding."
He sounds hungry.

But the hand cupping Athelstan's head is almost gentle.
And cold.

[athelstanthescribe]

The cold he's grown used to. The gentleness comes and goes, but he takes however Eric chooses to be.

He tips his head, baring his throat.

[onceaviking]

Eric strikes - lightening fast - and drinks deeply, closing his eyes.

He still feels the hunger left over from the flu and the sweet taste of Athelstan's blood is too hard to resist.
Not that he tries.

[athelstanthescribe]

Athelstan's own eyes drift closed, focusing on the feeling, and he doesn't move to stop Eric yet.

[onceaviking]

He walks him backward to the bed without moving his mouth away.

[athelstanthescribe]

His knees strike the side of the bed and he drops, catching himself by sitting before he pulls his legs up to lie down.

[onceaviking]

Eric climbs on top of him, growling deep in his throat, returning his full attention to the blood seeping from Athelstan's wounds.

[athelstanthescribe]

Athelstan spreads his legs in expectation, his head rolling to one side to let Eric feed again.

[onceaviking]

For a moment, he does nothing but drink.

And then he slowly tilts his hips, rubbing against him.

[athelstanthescribe]

When he does that, Athelstan pulls at the laces of his trousers and pushes them down a little, as far as he can with Eric on top of him.

[onceaviking]

And then they get pushed all the way down and there's the sound of a zipper, metallic and sharp.

[athelstanthescribe]

He'll be curious about zippers later. For now, nothing but Eric is on his mind, Eric and what's about to happen.

[onceaviking]

He is cold.
And hard.

And as he presses against Athelstan, he moves his cool lips from the wounds on his neck and along his jaw.

[athelstanthescribe]

Athelstan presses up against him, with all his strength which could never match Eric's, and moans in building pleasure.

[onceaviking]

Eric tangles his fingers in his hair and pulls his head back as he enters him, snarling a little. His lips are sticky with blood.

[athelstanthescribe]

"Do you want more?" he asks, breathing fast and clutching Eric's back. "Is it safe?"

[onceaviking]

His hips snap forward.
"Yes," he breathes. "Yes."

And then he bites him again.

[athelstanthescribe]

Athelstan groans, hips bucking against Eric's as the two sensations flood through him.

He's not sure how anyone could ever give up being a donor, if they've felt it once.

[onceaviking]

He is so warm.
Eric moans and tries to bury himself even deeper, pressing his face against Athelstan's sticky neck.

[athelstanthescribe]

Athelstan welcomes it.

"Take what you will", he murmurs against Eric's ear. "Anything short of killing me."

[onceaviking]

And he does, pausing only to to press a just as sticky kiss to his lips. Sticky with vampire blood.

Fucking him.

Feeding.

[athelstanthescribe]

Athelstan licks his lips as he thrusts back against Eric, taking what's been offered to maintain his strength.

This, all of this, it's exactly as he likes it.

[onceaviking]

"Talk," Eric whispers in his ear.
For that, apart from the purity of his blood, is the main draw here.

The tongue of his youth.

[athelstanthescribe]

...yes. Eric always wants talk, he remembers vaguely through the feeling, and begins to talk.

"You know how I like this", he says lightly. "Hard and fast."