onceaviking | Eric's room, night

The room is just as clean as the last time The Emcee was here.

This time Eric carries the man all the way to the bed and dumps him there. Unceremoniously.
He is very strong.
And fast.

But when he touches The Emcees face, his hand is almost gentle. And cold.
His fangs come down with a click as he runs his other, just as cold, hand up the inside of The Emcee's thigh.

"I can bite you there," he suggests. Suggestively.
The large blood vessels are favored by plenty of vampires. And it is a very symbolic place to bite. And to be bitten.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

i_am_your_host

It's in the Emcee's nature to read people, and it's his job as well. Keeping things light and stress-free. Humans are sometimes difficult to figure out; but with Eric, erring on the side of caution is always the best bet.

"Fairies? Indeed? Well, I doubt there is anything special about my blood, but..."

He gives Eric a coy little smirk before turning to the mirror to fix his hair, and is not at all surprised that he can see Eric's reflection behind him because obviously the legends are wrong.

From:

onceaviking

And Eric's reflection lifts an eyebrow.

"Well, you are very tasty. And enthusiasm always lend a certain something to it.."
He smirks.

"As does bitchiness. And balls."

Which is fitting really. With a threshold creature like The Emcee.

From:

i_am_your_host

The way the blood suddenly rushes to the Emcee's neck in a blush that takes him entirely by surprise will be more than obvious to Eric.

He utters a short but bright laugh and shakes his head at his own silliness. Although he won't lie to himself that Eric calling him a tasty and enthusiastic bitch with balls is going to outlast the high from vampire blood.

...Oh dear god, what a night it's been.

Turning around and leaning back against the sink, he faces him with a wry grin.

"You absolutely must stop flattering me, darling, but then again, I know you don't like taking orders."

He then brushes past him to take his coat from where it was hanging and continues out into the main room.

From:

onceaviking

There are few things as appetizing to a vampire as a rapidly spreading blush. Alas, the hour is late now and he really shouldn't drink anymore from his guest. Not tonight at least, vampire blood or no.

"I do not expect to make a habit of it," he replies, trailing naked after The Emcee, on pale and soundless feet.

From:

i_am_your_host

That still makes him smile to himself.

Also the way he can feel Eric's eyes on the back of his neck.

"I hope not. After all, you have your reputation to maintain."

He starts getting dressed -- with what little clothing he came in with -- making no fuss or show of it.

From:

onceaviking

Eric leans against the wall.watching his fading blush more than the dressing. That is, after all. What holds his interest.

"What year is it for you now? Same as last time?" He asks. Conversationally.

From:

i_am_your_host

He glances up at Eric (standing so sexily again, why must he do that) as he laces up a boot.

"Yes, it's still 1931. Why?"

From:

onceaviking

"Just curious. I was there some 14 years later. Didn't go clubbing though."
He shrugs.

It's not important. It shouldn't be any way. It's human affairs and they are not important to him. They certainly hadn't been at the time.

He runs both hands through his wet hair.

From:

i_am_your_host

He looks at him for a few moments (oh that's not fair, running his hands through his hair like that). And instead of asking What were you doing there?, he asks,

"What was it like?"

To satisfy his own curiosity.

From:

onceaviking

"Grim. And not particularly satisfactory," he replies. "I was there on - personal business."

Business he seems disinclined to tell anything more about.
"You will be returning home , now?"

From:

i_am_your_host

Grim.

He tics his head in an I thought as much gesture. It's all anyone from the future relative to his own time has told him. When a vampire says it's grim, it must be really fucking grim.

And he wasn't going to question Eric about his personal business in any case. Personal business is none of his. Especially the personal business of a vampire.

"Back to the Klub, yes," he says, folding up the tangle of suspenders straps. Luckily he was going to change out of this particular outfit before he came through the door.

"I think I will find a rich stuffed shirt to buy me a large dinner tonight. I'm feeling rather peckish."

He smirks up at Eric as he pulls on his leather coat.

Edited Date: 2014-05-26 08:25 pm (UTC)

From:

onceaviking

"That sounds like a good idea," Eric says. "Red meat. Wine."

He opens the door for The Emcee. "Perhaps I will see you again. "

From:

i_am_your_host

"Mm, decadent," he purrs through a chuckle.

Opening the door for him, too? How utterly gallant.

"Of course you will, darling."

He smiles up at him, the twists and turns of the entire evening flashing through his mind in a second, and he wonders how he's even still here. Surviving another night.

His gaze lands on Eric's mouth, then flicks up to his eyes.

No, he's not going to kiss him goodnight.

"May I...see them? For just a moment."

From:

onceaviking

A fluctuating creature like The Emcee can be treated in many ways. But he's got the mouth of a women, to Eric's eyes at least, and so he gets the treatment a woman might get.
Sometimes.

Eric lifts one eyebrow. A little questioningly.
"The fangs?"

He tips his head back and drops them. The movement is too fast to follow with the naked eye and the sound of them coming down is obscenely loud in the relative silence of his room.

Long and seemingly conical, tapering to the deadly point, they twist his mouth a little. Changing his face. Cruel and yet alluring.
Aggressive.

He looks at The Emcee, gauging his reaction. He is not the first to have asked.

From:

i_am_your_host

Even though he anticipates it, he still flinches slightly when Eric's fangs drop. So inhuman, the teeth of a monster.

Of course he's seen them before. Just not so closely, when things are still and quiet, when not in a frenzy of lust and blood and ecstasy.

Dark eyes wide and unblinking, he swallows hard, his breathing becoming quick and shallow. Oh, yes. He's still afraid. But his lips still twitch, because he's still turned on.

And he is still bold. He reaches up to touch Eric's chin, the pad of his thumb sweeping lightly under his lower lip. Caressing a lion.

"Such a lamb you are," he murmurs, recalling their conversation from earlier, the faint tremor in his voice betraying what he knows to be true about Eric.

He smiles, exhaling a breath.

From:

onceaviking

They are monstrous. And beautiful in their promise of pain and death and something more.

Eric's lips twitch at the touch and there's the faintest hint of a growl. But it is a reminder, nothing more.

And when you hear and see the flow of blood when you look at someone, you know what their voices are really saying. You can feel the truth of their heartbeat.

He retracts his fangs with a click.
"There are many far more fearsome than I," he says. "My Maker for one."
It is not a difficult admission. Not when he comes second to Godric. It is a place far more honorable than many firsts.

Edited Date: 2014-05-27 09:53 am (UTC)

From:

i_am_your_host

There is beauty in that danger. And danger in that beauty. Perhaps that is why so many get caught up in it and lose themselves when it's too late.

He doesn't pull back at the growl, but Eric will most certainly feel him tense up a tiny fraction. That instinctive reaction to a wild animal that hasn't been tamed, and will never be tamed, no matter how much you try to make it used to your touch. But he slowly lowers his hand, exhaling that breath he'd been holding.

Eric's fangs disappear, but the danger does not.

Maker.

Progeny.

Eric had spoken before of the one he turned, but not the one who turned him.

Older. More powerful. More fearsome.

"Do you...fear him?"

From:

onceaviking

"I respect him," Eric replies, without hesitation." And if he was displeased with me, I would fear him. But I have never given him reason to be displeased."

The respect is clear in his voice. But it is not the only emotion there.

And perhaps he knows this and perhaps he doesn't.
He says, "He gave me this when I lay dying," and then he looks away. Briefly.

When he looks at The Emcee again, his face looks a it always does.as cool as his skin. Detached as the pale moon, not at all moved by the ones its light traps.

Leaning on the door.

From:

i_am_your_host

The Emcee's eyes are fixed on Eric's face, searching, wanting to find those last traces of humanity. But that's what they are, just traces, ghosts, wisps of smoke. They're gone as soon as he hears the timbre of his voice and catches the flicker of his gaze.

(There was love there. He's sure of it.)

"Then I respect him as well."

It may not amount to much coming from a mortal, but he means it. And somewhere, hidden in that statement, is the unspoken notion that he respects Eric, too. Certainly nowhere near the deep, abiding way that Eric respects his Maker...but more as a matter of survival.

It's why he's still here.

His eyes have given up their search. All he can do is leave Eric with a small smile despite knowing that he would never return such a trifling gesture.

"Until next time, Herr Northman."

And he's fine with that.

He slips out of the room.