For Jim from IT

[onceaviking]

Eric's room is neat and cool. There are drapes suggesting windows, but no actual windows behind them.
At one end, closest to the door, is a small wooden table with carved legs and two low, matching chairs with sheepskin draped across the backs.

To the side is a heavy desk with a lamp, stacks of newspapers, and a closed laptop.

The bed at the far end of the room is huge and massive, and the bedding is Egyptian cotton.

Everything is very clean.

The door to the bathroom is closed.

There are only a few personal objects. A couple of framed paintings and drawings, a small model of a longboat on the desk. That is it.

On the low table is a tray with a decanter and a glass.

Eric walks over, leaning his hip against the desk.

"So." he says.

Comments

[just_cant_lose]

Jim makes sure to appear nervous, despite the drink. And he is, a little! It's a novel sensation for him, and he finds he quite enjoys it.

'OK.'

He has a swig of vodka, and stretches his neck to one side.

'You're not allowed to break anything.'

So they're clear.

[onceaviking]

"What is it supposed to look like have happened?" Eric asks.

Who knows, broken bones might be vital for the illusion.
Or the guy is just freak that enjoys having his flesh smacked.

People.

[just_cant_lose]

'Oh, you know.'

His tone is vague, and he puts his bottle down on the floor.

'Pissed the wrong guy off in a club, maybe one with a couple of friends. Someone who knows what they're doing with their fists.'

Deep breath. He is nowhere near as drunk as he's been pretending, but the alcohol this evening did have a point. It'll hurt less as it happens, even if it won't stop tomorrow being awful.

'Both sides - no broken ribs -' seriously Eric, he will be displeased if ribs get cracked, '-mark the wrists like my arms were held back. And a black eye.'

A thought flickers across his mind.

'How big is a puncture wound from your teeth?'

[onceaviking]

"Fangs," Eric corrects and drops fang.

They are long and sharp and obscenely white against his lips.

He tilts his head a little so Jim can see for himself.

[just_cant_lose]

He tilts his head too, examining, considering.

'Too big. Doesn't matter.'

He puts his back against the nearest wall, all the better to give the impression of being held back. He doubts any doctor will examine forensically, but he likes to do things properly.

'Go on, then. Ribs first.'

He keeps his eyes open - always better to see what's coming - but they unfocus as he detaches his mind from present reality.

[onceaviking]

Eric barely suppresses an eye roll and steps a little closer.

He tucks his fingertips against his bottom knuckles and punches Jim,right between his bottom two ribs on his left side.

There. No broken ribs.

He is holding back. Way back.
But he is still a big guy.

[just_cant_lose]

The only sign of pain is a tightening of his jaw. His muscles don't tense against the strike, and he makes no noise.

'Again, same spot. And all up them.'

He's going to make sure to react properly in a minute or two, because he rest want to seem too good at this. But the initial flare is always the worst, so he'll disassociate from it.

[onceaviking]

Freak.

But fine.

So Eric punches him all the way up the side. Vampire fast. His arm moving too fast to see.

[just_cant_lose]

...OK, it hurts. He holds out as long as he considers a normal person might try to, then groans and sags to one side, his right hand grabbing at Eric's still arm for support.

'All right, all right, hold up.'

Ow.

Ow.

Bloody ow. All this for a ten minute show-of-face tomorrow? Gross.

[onceaviking]

"How about the face?" Eric suggests, calmly.

Does it even look like a bar brawl without a black eye?

[just_cant_lose]

'In a minute.'

He said he needed a black eye, but is saving it for last. Deep breath.

'Other side. You can move fast, do it quicker. Hold my wrist against the wall.'

These are clearly orders, and he doesn't sound drunk anymore.

[onceaviking]

Eric narrows his eyes at him.

But whatever.

He grabs hold of his wrist, his grip firm and cold as an iron shackle. And then he repeats the punching, this time moving faster still, a blur of motion up his side.

[just_cant_lose]

'OK OK OK OK OK...'

Fuck.

But also, fuck it. He bends forward for a minute or two, breathing hard and considering the possibility of throwing up. But he rallies, sucking another breath in and straightening up slowly. Lifting his shirt for inspection shows inflammation, and promises a nice display over the next couple of days.

Vodka then, a few deep swigs that burn all the way down.

'Alright, face. Don't crack my cheekbone or break my nose.'

He doesn't stand against the wall for this one, unsurprisingly.

[onceaviking]

Eric reaches over and takes (firm) hold of Jim's chin.

Then he lifts his free hand and strikes him, right at his left eye.
The movement seems too small for the impact, which, while impressive, is still carefully measured.

Nothing's broken.
It just came close.

[just_cant_lose]

Jim makes a strangled noise. It's actually more effort than his natural reaction, which would be to stay silent, but this is a performance just like everything else. He steps back until there's something solid behind him, hand to his face, and just breathes for a while.

'OK. Bruise this wrist, and we're done.'

He holds it out for its damage easily enough. It won't be worse than the face punch.

[onceaviking]

"I'll bite you first," Eric tells him. "And then I'll remove the puncture wound. How's that?"

[just_cant_lose]

'OK, if you think so.'

He sounds breathy, in pain. The last part is certainly true.

'Mind if I sit?'

[onceaviking]

"Be my guest," Eric says.

The hint of tightness in his voice is mostly due to the approaching dawn. But this isn't likely to last long.

"You have to sit still, when I bite. The wrist is rather delicate and we wouldn't want any nerve damage."

Or so he supposes.

[just_cant_lose]

He supposes correctly. And Jim does notice the tightness of his voice, which seems odd - but maybe vampires get excited about dinner. He sits down carefully, after extracting the silver chain from his pocket.

'Take too much, I'm pushing this right into your eye.'

But hey, thanks for the beating! Jim wraps one arm around his damaged midsection, and offers the other wrist up in a way that suggests he's preoccupied with the pain, and unconcerned about this bit.

[onceaviking]

Eric takes the offered wrist, ignoring the comment about silver.

He turns it this way and that before drawing his lips back with a hiss to fully reveal his fangs as he tightens his hold.

And then he bites down.

[just_cant_lose]

Well, that's...

...odd. Jim hisses a breath in over his teeth, and doesn't try to stop his shoulders tensing up in automatic reaction to the puncture, in a way they hadn't over simply getting hit. It's immediately clear that doing this after drinking quite a lot wasn't the best of ideas, but it's not weird enough to make Eric stop.

[onceaviking]

Eric drinks, wetly, as his fingers begin to move in small, almost hypnotic patterns on the back of Jim's wrist and hand.

There's the tiniest trickle of blood from his own left ear.

[just_cant_lose]

His eyes fall closed. Against all expectation, he can see what Emcee was talking about. And Eric himself, when he said it could be good. It's reason enough to jab his fingertips into his bruised side, letting a flare of pain break into something that could become dangerously hypnotic.

'Enough,' he murmurs, and resists the temptation to yank his wrist away.

'That's enough.'

[onceaviking]

Eric looks up at him, chin and lips painted dark with blood.
He licks his fangs.

"Just a sec," he says and then he bites down on his own tongue, the fang piercing the flesh with a crush-like sound, before bonding his head to lick at Jim's hurt wrist.

He's perfected the licking if he can say so himself.

As cool vampire blood gets smeared across Jim's wrist, the flesh and skin begins to knit together.

[just_cant_lose]

...he really has. Jim forces himself to watch this bit, partly to check they get closed completely, and partly so he doesn't get swept away by it. It's harder the he thought it would be, which is something analysing in itself. Later. When he's not here.

'What's that about?'

He jerks his chin towards the blood coming from Eric's ear, and internally winces at how weak his voice sounds.

[onceaviking]

Eric wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.
"It's the bleeds. The sun's coming up," he replies.

"Can you stand?"

[just_cant_lose]

'What does that mean, 'the bleeds'?'

He tries standing, and yep, success. It doesn't feel great, but he wouldn't expect anything else.

[onceaviking]

"It's a sign that the sun is coming up. I have to sleep and you have to leave."

Besides, they're done.

[just_cant_lose]

interesting. Another chink in the armour, Eric?

He holds his wrist out.

'Bruise it.'

[onceaviking]

A surface scratch at most!

Eric reaches over and squeezes Jim's wrist hard enough to leave bruises, yet not hard enough to damage the bones.

[just_cant_lose]

He winces slightly, but holds still. When Eric lets go, he slips the silver back into his pocket, and then swipes his vodka up off the floor. It almost makes him fall over - gross gross this is gross - but he steadies himself on the wall.

'I'll leave you to sleep then. Thanks for your help.'

Paid for help, but whatever.

[onceaviking]

Eric leans against the wall and watches Jim collect himself and his vodka bottle.

His right nostril is trickling blood now as well.

"Close the door when you leave," he says as he retracts his fangs with a loud click.

[just_cant_lose]

'Of course.'

His gaze flickers over the new blood. He wonders what would happen if he just stayed - beyond getting bodily thrown out: would Eric die for real if he didn't sleep?

It's a thought for another day. Jim nods, weaves his way to the door and closes it behind him.

It would be a lie to say he feels all right. All the intelligence in the world doesn't stop pain like this, and blood loss mixed with alcohol doesn't make for a good time. He leans against the wall in the corridor for a long while, a hand over the undamaged side of his face, the other arm across his middle. He has to make it out the door and into the nightclub; his security can jump in and take him from there. He can make it that far.

This had better bloody well be worth it.

[onceaviking]

{ooc: yay! Perfect!}

[just_cant_lose]

[OOC: So brilliant, THANK YOU <333!]