OOM of sorts - outside at night

[onceaviking]

This is not a moonlit stroll hand in hand.

Eric is obviously headed somewhere specific and he steers Emcee in the right direction with a firm hand on his neck.

The night is pleasant and starlit. The animals stay away though. Most animals give vampires a wide berth and the wildlife around Milliways is no exception.

Finally, they reach a small cluster of trees not too far from the lake and Eric stops, turning to look down at Emcee. He looks right at home here, in the darkness.

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[i_am_your_host]

If he can still manage to amuse Eric in this situation, then it must not be so bad.

Even if he can't run away.

He breathes out a short, hapless chuckle, not lifting his head yet. He'll need to get used to the swaying of the branch, and the murmured reassurance helps somewhat, even though he still can't understand why he trusts Eric so much.

Inhaling sharply at the touch of his cool lips, he swallows hard, daring to tip his head back against the trunk of the tree. He's silent for a moment, gathering his courage, and vaguely impressed that Eric is atually giving him a choice. Eventually, his hands side down to grasp his solid shoulders.

"Like this."

[onceaviking]

Eric's fangs come down as he tightens his grip a little more. And then he bites, right where neck and shoulder meet.

It's all very classic vampire, apart from the lack of lady in white nightgown. And the fact that they're in a tree.

As he drinks, he presses his leg between Emcee's, pinning him in place and giving him a little bit of friction at the same time.

It's strange, biting him like this when the memory of the women he had been last, is still very much present. The texture of his skin is different. Invisible stumbles can still be felt, hidden as they are just below the surface of the skin. His smell is different as well of course; both that of his skin and the scent of his arousal.

And yet it is as if she too is lurking there, right beneath the skin. Behind the scent of man.
Eric growls a little and lets one of his hands tangle in Emcee's hair. It's a pleased growl.

[i_am_your_host]

He lets out a shaky, breathless cry as his eyes roll back and his eyelids flutter closed, gripping Eric's shoulders, bracing himself against the tree trunk. A whimper of pain escapes his constricted throat, mixing with the spike of arousal at the feel of Eric's leg between his thighs.

The sensation instantly brings back the memory of that ache he felt when he was a woman, lying on the bed, virginal, wet, and wanting. And he rubs against Eric's leg, desperate to feel that again as keening sighs leave his lips.

The growl sends a shiver down his spine; the fingers in his hair make him gasp as he takes possession of him. He tilts his head back further, pressing against his hand.

[onceaviking]

Eric licks his skin, tender and torn on the neck, and up, up to the corner of his mouth.
And then he moves both hands down to Emcee's hips and lifts him up, still pressed against the trunk of the tree.

Letting go with one hand to run it up Emcee's side and then between them, touching his chest and his belly. Fleetingly. And then he is unfastening Emcee's trousers, keeping him in place with his body. His mouth once again working at the wounds on his neck.

[i_am_your_host]

Eric's tongue leaves a hot streak of blood on his skin and he shudders when the cool air hits it. He feels the wound ooze when his mouth moves away from it, and he only wants him to return to it and keep drinking.

His hands remain on Eric's shoulders all the while, dazed with lust, soaring at each fleeting touch as if he were on a drug (as if he weren't physically high enough). Pinned to the tree, his trousers slip down to his ankles.

[onceaviking]

Eric's own jeans follows shortly and he presses close again, his face and mouth against Emcee's skin.

He's hard and startlingly cold as he grinds against him. Aggressively.

And he is making noises. Small, hungry, eager noises.

[i_am_your_host]

Each muffled noise Eric makes against his neck, each pull of his mouth, each push of his hips drives out a moan of delirious pleasure that starts from the very pit of his belly, spreads through his limbs, taking his breath away.

He shakes his trousers off -- what happens to them is the least of his concerns right now -- and hooks his legs around Eric's waist, angling his hips so that Eric grinds against him more...effectively.

He then slides his arms around Eric's neck again, slowly curling his fingers in his hair at the back of his head. It's a rare gesture when he dares to touch his hair.

[onceaviking]

Eric doesn't stop him, so he either doesn't notice or he doesn't mind being caressed.
He clearly doesn't mind the new and improved angles, moving against Emcee with increasing pressure. And speed.

He turns his attention to the other side of Emcee's neck, turning his head with a firm grip on his chin, and then briefly returns his mouth to Emcee's. Kissing him.

It's not the same. But it's close enough.

And then he bites down again. Hard.

[i_am_your_host]

It's a hot, sticky, bloody kiss, and something deep inside him surges, something very primal, a rush of adrenaline that twists the pain and fear into ecstasy.

He cries out when Eric's fangs sink into him anew, the tremulous sound seemingly kept close by the insulating foliage. Moments later Eric's cock finds its mark and he cries out again, his back arching desperately, his fingertips digging into the solid muscle of Eric's shoulders.

[onceaviking]

Eric growls against Emcee's skin as he shears himself, pressing the other man against the trunk of the tree.

Fucking him.

It does not have the same heat as their last coupling, not quite. He is not her. And so it is more aggressive perhaps. And yet his scent is so close to hers, that the memory of her lips, her breasts, her pussy is reawakened. And that lends a gentleness to his hands as they begin to move. Roaming over his shoulders, his sides, the back of his head.

And then he stops feeding, licking the wounds closed, his lips and tongue a surprisingly gentle counterpoint to the movements of his hips.

[i_am_your_host]

It's like being pressed between two tree trunks, as solid as Eric is. There will be bruising tomorrow, but he takes it willingly, groaning until his throat is raw and pushing back against Eric's hips. Certainly not as fast and not as aggressive, but still giving him something to fuck, despite having been fed on so thoroughly.

And then he feels his hands on his body. It's surprising. But definitely welcome. It adds to his quickly peaking euphoria, and reminds him of how he touched him as a woman.

The contradiction is dizzying, between the force of Eric's thrusts and the sudden gentleness of his mouth, the attentiveness of his large, heavy hands. He won't question it. He won't overthink it. He'll just take it.

His fingers curl into Eric's hair again, his other hand sweeping over his broad back. Face upturned to the latticework of branches overhead, the corners of his lips pull back as his laughter gets lost in his cries of pleasure, growing louder and louder.

[onceaviking]

Eric buries his face in Emcee's neck, without biting him this time. His sticky lips press against Emcee's hot skin, but the fangs stay sheathed.

And his hands keep touching Emcee, his touch light. And then his fingers dig in again, as he lifts Emcee a little, to fuck him even deeper. His grip is bruising.

The branch they are on sways.

[i_am_your_host]

He can't tell if the branch is swaying any more than it should, because right now his main concern is the incredibly intense sensation of Eric's cock completely filling him.

"Mein Gott, Eric," he cries out, writhing in his grip in ecstasy, so very, very close to the edge.

[onceaviking]

The enthusiasm is the same.

It's quite infectious really.

So he kisses the corner of his mouth. His own lips are still sticky, but the blood on then has cooled.

[i_am_your_host]

He tastes salty pennies on Eric's kiss. And he turns his head slightly to fully meet his mouth, uninhibited and unafraid in this moment. And just as he had done as a woman, his tongue darts between Eric's lips to lick a fang.

[onceaviking]

That gets him another hungry, eager growl.
And an impossible, deeper thrust.

[i_am_your_host]

And that is more than enough to send him clear over the edge. He tears his mouth away with a raw cry skyward, body seizing violently, clenching hard around Eric's cock, neck arched sharply and throat bared.

He's never been bitten during an orgasm.

[onceaviking]

Eric can take a hint. At least when he agrees with it.

He bites down, sharply, pulling Emcee away from the tree trunk and close to himself. The movement is enough to make his feet slide , right off the branch.

Not that it matters. He doesn't care at least, all his attention on the warm blood filling his mouth. And the tightness enveloping him. Holding Emcee close, suspended in the air.

[i_am_your_host]

It's a simultaneous surge and drain of energy; body leaden but weightless; mind soaring and falling; overpowering pain...and pleasure.

He comes again -- too dazed and hoarse to find a voice to cry out with, but the unrelenting sensations grip him once more, as if wrenching every last bit of ecstasy out of him.

Finally, completely and utterly spent, his arms drape loosely over Eric's shoulders; his legs start to slide from his hips. He would be concerned with falling if he weren't still conscious enough to feel Eric holding him.

[onceaviking]

And seeing as they are still alone, Eric drifts down, alighting lightly on the grass, still holding Emcee. Pulling out as he licks the latest wounds on his neck. Thoroughly.

It's closer to an embrace, because that is the way it ended up while they were up in the tree, and he hasn't bothered shifting his hold.

He also wants to make sure that Emcee can stand before he lets go. He might have drunk a little deeply. And Emcee did smell of gin when he came over.

Of course, he tends to smell that way.

[i_am_your_host]

Floating down feels nice, if a bit dizzying, and he shuts his eyes, his head slumping onto Eric's shoulder as he licks at his neck. Their feet touch solid ground, and he leans bodily against him to keep from sinking. He groans deliriously.

"Oh, fuck," he mutters, face half-buried against his chest. "My trousers."

And he breathes out a drunken chuckle.

[onceaviking]

Eric looks around in the dark.

"They're over there," he says, nodding toward the base of the tree. And then he hooks a finger under Emcee's chin and tilts his face up, to have a closer look at his eyes.

"How are you feeling?" he asks. Not out of concern, mind. Just - he'll have to figur out what to do with him if he can't just leave him on hips own.

That's all.

[i_am_your_host]

His eyes are heavy-lidded but clear.

And Eric's face looks like something out of a Hollywood horror film, with all those sharp, angled shadows.

"I'm fine," he mumbles, and he slowly pushes off of him, his hands pressed to Eric's chest just because he can. "I only need a few moments."

He staggers a bit, but manages not to fall even though his legs feel like jelly. Tottering is a skill back home, really.

"I am definitely going to feel this one in the morning," he says as he fetches his trousers. He leans back against the tree for balance as he puts them on.

[onceaviking]

Eric looks at him, impassively. Arms crossed.

"You're going to go sleep in my room," he says and it's not really a suggestion.

"I'll wake you before dawn."

It's a strange parallel to last time. A slightly twisted mirror image. Not Emcee asking, all swollen lips and huge eyes, but Eric borderline commanding.

"If you keel over, I'll never hear the end of it."

He's protecting himself. That's reason enough.

[i_am_your_host]

He pauses mid-buttoning-up and blinks at Eric through the dimness. He knows full well that he isn't emtionally concerned about his welfare; it's just that he's very practical about it.

And whether it's an offer or a command, the Emcee is not about to refuse it at this point. The last time, she had to plead a little.

"Um...all right?" he replies, still a bit surprised. "Thank you."

Trousers fastened, he takes a minute to rest against the tree, looking at Eric's large, shadowy form.

"What do you mean, you'll never hear the end of it? From who?"