(no subject)

[onceaviking]

Eric's room is cool and clean.

His bed is made with white and grey, and there's a tray with a carafe and a glass on a small table closer to it.

He steps inside and turns to face Ganymede with a hungry, eager expression.

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[the_cupbearer]

Ganymede's hand is shaking against Eric's cheek, and he breathes out a soft encouragement, staring through the fringe of his lashes down at the vampire whose mouth is very close indeed to his femoral artery. A dangerous place for anyone to be, indeed.

He's so close to climax he almost can't stand it, and it very nearly physically aches, the way he can't seem to relax even though his muscles burn.

"I won't," he whispers, voice soft and hitching, "I can't last much longer."

[onceaviking]

He presses, briefly, into the touch and then he bites down again, lightening fast, close, close, close to that thundering, raging blood crashing through Ganymede's artery. Swallowing wetly. Moaning.

[the_cupbearer]

The second Eric's teeth break skin, Ganymede huffs out a soft st5rangled gasp and bows up as if he means to throw the vampire off. His orgasm is quiet, but no less intense for the lack of screaming his limbs shiver like he's been electrocuted, breath shuddering as his eyes roll back and his lashes flutter shut.

It lasts only a few moments of white-out bliss before he all but collapses back against the body-warm sheets. "Oh," he sighs, barely putting voice to the sound, "Fuck."

[onceaviking]

Eric laps the wound closed and moves up to lick the wounds on Ganymede's neck. Slowly, methodically.

Almost sated (it's never enough).
Still hard.
Not quite cold anymore.

"Do you need blood?" he whispers.

[the_cupbearer]

Where Eric is warming, Ganymede is cold; he's so cool that it's palpable on his skin, and he's faintly shivering as he nods slowly, trying to fold enough that Eric's body will cover his.

"Yes," he breathes, face turned and tucked into the crook of the vampire's neck and shoulder.

[onceaviking]

Eric bites down on his own tongue and turns Ganymede's face up so he can kiss him.

Softly.

Deeply.

Letting his blood seep into Ganymede's mouth.

[the_cupbearer]

Ganymede makes the softest of sounds at that kiss and swallows half-involuntarily, though it warms him from the inside out: it does other things, too, and when he realizes exactly how aroused he is (again) and how quickly, he pushes at Eric's shoulders. He's been drugged before, though never quite like this.

He pulls away, gasping and swallowing the blood smeared over his lips and coating his tongue; his pupils are blown wide, giving him a look exactly as otherworldly as he is himself.

[onceaviking]

Eric puts a hand on his arm, saying, "Just breathe. You'll be fine."

Probably.

Right now, Ganymede is (almost) seeing to the world through a vampire's eyes.

The beauty.
The death.

Eric licks his lips and murmurs, "Come here," his voice pitched low.

[the_cupbearer]

He can't help but to breathe, to gulp in air in an uneven, hiccuping rhythm that leave his chest heaving as Ganymede watches Eric unblinkingly. The feeling of something tingling under his skin is maddening, reminding him uneasily of the heaviness in the air before a lightning storm.

Specifically, before the lightning storms on Olympus. It's been years and years since he felt it, but one never forgets.

To the command, Ganymede is moving even before he entirely processes where he's going, shifting gracefully to move nearer to Eric, ending up sitting on his heels, knees spread and very nearly in the vampire's lap. "I'm here," he whispers.

[onceaviking]

"Do you want to feel," Eric half whispers in his ear, "how vampires couple?"

His lips almost move against Ganymede's skin.
His breath fans out over his cheekbone and his temple. Into his hair.

One of Eric's large hands settle on his thigh.

[the_cupbearer]

Ganymede had been interested in this since the beginning of the evening; no point in pretending he wasn't. But now it's ever-so-subtly different, as if he's held in thrall, experiencing something for the first time that's equal parts pleasure, pain, and utterly new.

His head nods slowly, rocking like a doll's on a string as he leans into Eric, eyes drifting shut beneath the dark fan of his lashes. "Yes," he answers back, soft but vehement, feeling another ripple of gooseflesh crawl up his spine. "Yes."

[onceaviking]

Eric hisses, pleased, and kisses him possessively, sliding the fingers of one hand into his hair.

The mouth is the center of a vampires existence. Everything begins and ends there.

(It is not quite as it would be with another vampire. There's no fangs to scrape against, and he still has to be a little more cautious, but it is a very pleasing illusion).

[the_cupbearer]

Ganymede wraps his arms around Eric's shoulders, balancing himself as he arranges his legs over the vampire's hips, far past any hesitation now.

"I don't want to stop," he whispers, locking his ankles behind Eric's back to hold them together.

[onceaviking]

Eric reaches down to position himself, still kissing Ganymede's lips and face. His neck.

He presses against him, slowly and insistently, holding him close with his big, strong hands.

Whispering, "I want you," half promise, half threat.

[the_cupbearer]

"Yes," he hisses, knees flexing to keep himself pressed tight against Eric, fingers curled in his short blond hair. "Not enough, it's not enough," he breathes, trying to move faster and take Eric deeper despite how strong the vampire's hold is.

[onceaviking]

Eric makes a small, pleased sound and then he starts to move.

Vampires are strong and resilient and fast and he moves, almost, as he would with a vampire, his hips not quite a blur, and he keeps kissing, and licking, and biting.

[the_cupbearer]

It's been a long, long time since anyone was this rough with him without Ganymede having to beg for it--and it's an intoxicating thrill that kicks in his veins and along his nerves. He's glad of Eric's hands at his waist keeping him still even as he cries out wordlessly, though he doesn't stop moving.

Gaynmede absolutly wants to finish this, but he wants to be well and truly thoroughly fucked before that happens. And Eric knows exactly how to mix pleasure and pain to have them both feel incredible.

[onceaviking]

Eric snarls wordlessly and lets his head fall back, briefly.

Vampires rarely expose their necks, but in certain situations ( when you are fucking someone like you really mean it, when you can feel the desire running like flames up and down your spine ) it happens.

Tightening his grip on Ganymede.

[the_cupbearer]

If Ganymede had fangs, he would have happily bitten at the exposed throat in front of him; even when they're not hungry, biting seems to be an enjoyable activity from the giving end--and he knows how good it feels on the other.

But he has no fangs. As it is he can curl closer to Eric, beyond words to express how much he just doesn't want him to stop, and Ganymede ever-so-gently lays a kiss to the adams-apple at the curve of Eric's neck. His teeth pinch when he worries the skin between them, and normally this would result in a dark hickey for anyone else. He can hope Eric will get the message intended.

[onceaviking]

It does, judging from the way Eric gasps and then moans, moving a hand up to keep Ganymede's head in place.

In case he wants to do it again.

The moan turns to a hungry whimper as he increases his pace an incredible fraction.

[the_cupbearer]

Ganymede does it again, and again--he can take wordless direction quite well, it turns out--and there might have been a fourth time too. Except Eric shifts and moves just enough faster that a white-hot jolt of pain goes lancing through Ganymede, and his fingernails dig into the vampire's skin, muscles held tight. Even his voice is thin and eerie when he rasps out words in a language Eric couldn't possibly know.

It hurts, and the pain overwhelms the pleasure for a dizzying moment. He is only human, after all, with all the frailties that carries, even if he heals from them eventually. Too much pain still hurts. But he's so close, the effect of the vampire's blood still thrumming through him, and damned if it isn't making orgasm that much more exhilarating.

When he can reach it.

"Eric," he manages to gasp out, in English this time, "Eric, please!"

[onceaviking]

Eric takes hold of him and moves them both, so Ganymede is on his side with Eric on top of him.
He grabs hold of the headboard for leverage and bites down on his own tongue so he can lick Ganymede's mouth, coating it, before biting down hard on his neck.
Drinking.

The smeared blood on his own face is partly from him being a messy eater- and partly from the pain caused by not enough pain. From lack of fangs.

[the_cupbearer]

The movement, and the bite, and the culmination of everything else results in Ganymede convulsing once, hard, body jerking underneath Eric before he settles into a gentler shivering and twitching, every muscle gone lax and soft.

He can't put the sensation to words; he can only barely let it wash over him, leaving his breath coming short and erratic through lips still parted with drying blood on them.

[onceaviking]

Ganymede's climax pulls Eric along and he stiffens, eyes closed, fangs bared.

After a little while, he slowly lies down, licking his lips.

They tremble ever so slightly every now and then, as if on the verge of being pulled back to fully expose his fangs.


He sighs.

[the_cupbearer]

Ganymede doesn't move.

He blinks sluggishly, lashes never actually parting as he watches Eric, trying to make his brain work beyond the idea of merely staring at the unearthly beautiful creature beside him.

Quite a pair they make, both sated and still, smeared with blood and still trembling from intense orgasm.