For Emcee

[onceaviking]

His room is neat and cool.
The bed is made (white sheets, blue blankets, a down comforter, pillows). There are glasses and a carafe on the small table as always.

There are stacks of newspapers on the desk. Some photos.


Eric puts the wine bottle down on the table.

Comments

[i_am_your_host]

Emcee sheds his coat and unbuttoned shirt almost at once, and drapes them on the closest chair.

"Light reading?" he remarks as he nods to the stacks of newspapers.

[onceaviking]

"I like to keep up with current affairs, " Eric says. "Especially before they happen. "

And there's Sookie.
Missing.
Not that he is looking.



Much.

[i_am_your_host]

He pokes through some of the newspapers. Some titles are national, some are local to Louisiana.

"Always practical," he muses. "I bet you make a killing in the stock market."

[onceaviking]

"You should,." Eric says, throwing himself down in one of the low chairs.
"You'd win. Being able to go here and read up has been immensely useful."

[i_am_your_host]

"Mm, I don't know," he says, wandering over to the table to pour himself just a little bit of wine. "I wouldn't even know where to start. I'm not very good with money anyway."

He eyes Eric as he takes a sip. Those chairs are deliberately low to emphasize how long Eric's legs are, aren't they?

[onceaviking]

They might be. The chairs.

Eric stretches his legs out in font of him.
"I can imagine," he says. "I mean that you should find someone who would bet against you. Regarding my abilities in the stock market."

He smiles a little.

It's his rakish smile.

[i_am_your_host]

Oof. That smile goes to Emcee's head as much as the wine.

"I've run into a few international financial types at the club. If I knew some information, it wouldn't be difficult for them to bet against me, because who the hell am I?" he snorts lightly with a smirk.

Finishing his drink in one swallow, he sets the empty glass down and ambles over toward Eric, his eyes taking the long journey up and down his body.

[onceaviking]

Eric spreads his legs.
Just a little.

[i_am_your_host]

Emcee toes his boots off just to get more comfortable.

And he smiles languidly at the little gesture.

Daintily stepping in between Eric's legs, he lowers himself to his knees, bracing himself on Eric's solid thighs.

"So you've wined me," he murmurs, leaning in toward him. "Do you want to dine on me? Or shall we start with something else first?"

[onceaviking]

"I rather fear," Eric murmurs in reply, "that I will wear you out either way. Completely."

He likes the way he smells.

[i_am_your_host]

"Your promises always sound like threats...and vice versa."

He runs his palms up and down Eric's thighs, thumbs tracing the inseam of those tight, tight jeans.

[onceaviking]

"And you like that," Eric says, before pulling his upper lip back and letting his fangs down.
He reaches over and cradles the side of Emcee's face with one huge, cold hand, sliding the tips of his fingers into his hair.

And then he kisses him.

[i_am_your_host]

He says nothing to that. His eager eyes say enough. And then Eric's fangs come down, and his heartbeat says all that's necessary.

Tipping his head against Eric's palm, he leans into the kiss, breathing out a warm, whimpering sigh. He can feel his cold, hard fangs just behind the press of his lips.

[onceaviking]

Eric moves back, just a little, just enough to murmur, "How about we start off with something else?" against Emcee's lips.

He's so warm.

[i_am_your_host]

The corners of Emcee's lips twitch in a tiny, but always eager smile. The tip of his tongue darts between Eric's parted lips to flick at one of his fangs, as his hands shift from his thighs to the waistband of his jeans.

[onceaviking]

Eric shifts a little in his seat.
Running a finger down the side of Emcee's neck.
Feeling his pulse.

[i_am_your_host]

His pulse is quick, strong, and heavy, as if his blood were thickened with wine and lust.

Nimble fingers undo the fly of Eric's jeans. And they slide in, warm and soft, to encircle and caress his cock before slipping it free.

The memory of Eric fucking him, completely filling him as a woman comes back to him in a hot rush, and his pulse picks up even more.

[onceaviking]

Eric's eyes slide almost shut as he murmurs, "I can smell your eagerness."

Maybe he is remembering too. For whatever reason, the fingers still touching Emcee slide down his face, featherlight.
Gentle.

[i_am_your_host]

"I know," he sighs, his eyelashes fluttering at the cool, soft touch of Eric's fingers. "I am very...very eager, darling." He turns his head a little and kisses his palm.

Sighing again as his gaze rests on Eric's cock, he dips his head. And he licks it in one long, slow, indulgent stroke from tip to base.

[onceaviking]

That earns him a twitch and the softest of moans.

Just a breath, really.

This time Eric's fingers skim across his cheekbone.

[i_am_your_host]

He likes hearing Eric enjoy what he's doing to him, and he purrs like a delighted cat at his approving touch.

And then he deftly slips his tongue around the base of his cock to lick its underside, from base to tip, just as slowly and indulgently. His tongue is hot and slick against the cold, firm flesh, smooth like marble come to life.

[onceaviking]

He is so warm.

There's another, softer moan, and then Eric slides both hands into Emcee's hair, a startlingly cold touch.

yes

[i_am_your_host]

Emcee shudders, exhaling a sharp, hot breath against Eric's slick flesh. Eric could crush him with those huge hands, snap his neck like a twig. But he doesn't.

He plants wet, open-mouthed kisses up along the shaft, almost worshipful. Solid, sculpted, like the rest of Eric's body. And when he slides his lips over the tip, he exhales a shaky moan, again remembering what it was like as a woman to have Eric deep inside him.

[onceaviking]

Wet, and hot, and ( -yes -) alive.

One of Eric's massive hands move to cup the back of Emcees head.
Encouragingly.

He moans.

[i_am_your_host]

His lips slide further until he's at the halfway point, where he pauses to breathe, and then he takes in the rest of Eric's cock with slow, swallowing constrictions of his throat.

So cold, impossibly hard. And powerful. He can feel the strength radiating from his hips, his thighs. An instinctual desire to fuck.

Emcee begins to bob his head up and down, sucking and swallowing, repeatedly.