For teen!emcee

[onceaviking]

Eric's room is cool and dark.

Once they are inside, Eric turns on the bedside lights and pulls off his t-shirt, dropping it on the floor.

There's a bottle of brandy on the small table and the bedding is Egyptian cotton, smooth and silky.

Comments

[onceaviking]

There likely isn't.
Nothing safe at any rate.

Eric turns his head a little (leaving a smudged trail of blood behind) and kisses just below the boy's chin.

[i_am_your_host]

The boy is rarely ever kissed there.

As flushed and exhausted as he is, it makes him blush.

He turns his face toward him to meet his lips with his own.

[onceaviking]

The pulse beneath the warm skin is fast and strong.
The soft lips meeting his are warm.


It's all wrong.

Eric kisses him (fangs retracted, lips sticky) and then he moves away. But only to the edge of the bed.

[i_am_your_host]

The boy internalizes a sigh, though he does wince slightly with disappointment. He knows he shouldn't feel this way.

For a moment he lays there, catching his breath, his eyes closed. And then he opens them, and rolls over on his side to face Eric.

And then he shifts close to him. He wraps his hands around his brawny arm and presses a kiss to his shoulder.

[onceaviking]

Eric sighs.
But he doesn't move away.

Neither does he tell him to stop.

(Though he ought to).

[i_am_your_host]

The boy rests his chin against Eric's shoulder, looking up at him.

"It is only me, Herr Northman," he murmurs.

[onceaviking]

"I know," Eric replies, looking at him with red rimmed eyes.

(There may be traces of blood beneath. Shhh).


He knows.

[i_am_your_host]

He notices the blood under his eyes but doesn't say anything.

Instead he just nestles his cheek against Eric's shoulder, the fingers of one hand curled around his bicep.

After a moment in silence, he says quietly, "Your skin is cold, but-- not-so cold."

[onceaviking]

"We grow warmer when we feed," Eric tells him, matching his quiet tone.

"And then we grow cold again."

[i_am_your_host]

The boy runs his fingers down Eric's arm, resting on the back of his hand. His huge hand, much bigger than his own.

"You must have to feed a lot to feel a more noticeable difference," he says. "Or to keep from growing cold so quickly."

[onceaviking]

Eric nods.

"Yes," he says.

Always hungry.

Always cold.

"But never enough."

[i_am_your_host]

"You have others who you feed on, here?" he asks.

He wonders if Eric treats them the way he treats him.

[onceaviking]

"I do."

He looks away. "There are other options. Fake blood, blood that has been donated. But I prefer it like this."

And he might be referring to all of it; the rumpled bed, the bloodstained sheets and skin. The smell of sex.

[i_am_your_host]

He blinks thoughtfully, his eyelashes sweeping against Eric's skin.

"Well, it's more fun with a person," he concludes.

[onceaviking]

Eric doesn't answer, but he does lean in to kiss him again, closing his eyes.

(He can do that if he wants to. And he wants to. And he doesn't want to think about why).

[i_am_your_host]

That's...actually...sweet.

Or at least it seems to be.

The boy blushes, smiling faintly against Eric's cool lips.

[onceaviking]

He can smell his blood rise in his cheeks.

He breaks the kiss again.
"You should go clean up," he says.

[i_am_your_host]

"All right," he says in a tiny whisper, just a faint breath of air against Eric's lips, before letting go of his arm and moving away. He sits up (the blood on the sheets and on his legs startles him a little), eases himself to the edge of the bed, and gets to his feet.

As he pads barefoot and naked like a little wood sprite toward the bathroom, he glances over his shoulder at Eric. Just to see if he's going to clean up, too.

[onceaviking]

And so he will catch Eric, sitting pensively (forlorn), looking down at his hands.

And then he gets up and that look is gone as if it hadn't even been there to begin with.

[i_am_your_host]

The boy quickly glances away and turns on the light in the bathroom, marveling at the shininess of everything.

But really, he's still thinking of the look on Eric's face.

[onceaviking]

Eric enters and the bathroom seems to shrink, just a little.

He turns the water on, adjusting the temperature down a bit, and steps under the spray.

[i_am_your_host]

He was just waiting politely for Eric to go first.

Just as politely, he follows him into the shower. The water is comfortably hot (he doesn't realize that Eric lowered the temperature), and he closes his eyes and tips his head back for a moment to relish the sensation of the spray on his skin. A shower like this is such a luxury.

[onceaviking]

A little while passes.
Then Eric reaches for the bodywash, saying,"We used to bathe in lakes. And streams."

Showers are a luxury.
That's why he likes them.

[i_am_your_host]

The boy politely waits his turn to use the strange liquid soap.

"But it must have been terribly cold," he remarks.

He's no stranger to cold baths. They're the worst in the winter.

[onceaviking]

"It was," Eric says, passing him the bottle.

"In winter, you had to break the ice first."
Winter.
The worst.

He washes thoroughly, running his large hands down his chest and sides, getting rid of all the stains.