Outside

[onceaviking]

 The air is cool but it does little to calm him.

He has never been this close to a fairy. Not one like this. He can tell that he is in over his head, but he couldn't care less. He can smell the fairy's blood and it overpowers everything else around him, until it is the only thing he can focus on.

He pulls on the fairy's arm as he moves toward the sheltering trees. When he looks back at him, his fangs have dropped. White and gleaming. 

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[sidhe_king]

Finvarra is no human, and so he can adjust to the superhuman speed just fine, though he paints quite a picture laid on his back, limbs all disarranged and bloody from mouth to nearly his navel. His tongue licks at his teeth, swipe by swipe cleaning the blood off their points as he stares up at Eric.

"More," he whispers, halfway a command and half not.

[onceaviking]

And Eric complies, leaning down to lick at Finn's chest and mouth and cheeks, as he keeps pounding into him.

His fangs are aching again. And as he is getting closer to release, he can feel his resolve to not bite Finn again dissolve.

Just one more time.




(ooc: bedtime for me)

[sidhe_king]

Eric's heavy--too heavy to easily push away--and he feels that mouth close about his neck, teeth breaking skin. Finvarra can feel his blood draining, like that burn from a winter sun.

"Stop--enough," he murmurs, barely audible.

[onceaviking]

Another swallow and Eric finds himself slipping from Finn.

Falling. Falling up?

He tightens his hold and ends up next to the fairy, one leg slung across him and his own neck pressed close to the fairy's face. That he may bit him again if he wants to. Or needs to.

For someone who would laugh at the suggestion of cuddling, he does seem to be doing it right now, eyes half-closed and wet, red mouth slack.

He strokes one large hand down Finn's sticky chest.

"Pretty, pretty fairy. Lovely, pretty fairy." His words are slurred again and end on a breathy chuckle as he tries to catch Finn's mouth with his.

[sidhe_king]

Finn's breath comes rapidly; through halfhearted laughs at Eric's behavior, he draws absent designs with his fingertips in the blood around Eric's mouth until the vampire tries to catch him again.

"Are you not sated yet, vampire?" Finn asks, looking less and less human, not having the strength left to hold the facade of being mortal and having less inclination to try; he licks the neck so conveniently presented to him, tongue-tip delicate but insistent before he bites down again, hard.

[onceaviking]

Eric shudders and moans, pure, undiluted lust. And the bite achieves what simple friction did not.

He comes, violently, spattering blood on himself. Vampires produce no fluids themselves.

The smell of blood grows even stronger.

[sidhe_king]

Finvarra groans against the vampire's throat, pulling back enough to whisper in a long-forgotten language and capture his mouth in a harsh kiss, groping for Eric's hands. He's had his fun, now it's the faerie's turn.

[onceaviking]

Eric has grown pliant and soft, looking at Finn with wide, hazy eyes.

[sidhe_king]

He reaches for the vampire's hands and curls them around the hardness between this thighs, using Eric's body much the same as Eric had used his until he stiffens and reaches his peak, mouth wet with another's blood as he pants. The vibrant, shining red of blood is mixed with pearlescent bare-white now.

"Our blood is powerful, vampire. Yours as well as mine."

[onceaviking]

" I am old," Eric mumbles. " For my kind. Strong."

He would be. Weak vampires don't get old.

[sidhe_king]

"How old are you?" he asks, pushing the blonde's hair back in a moment of tenderness. He has no concept of age for himself; the sidhe have simply been, since time immemorial.

[onceaviking]

Eric half-closes his eyes.

"More than 700 years," he murmurs, drowsily. Enjoying the touch more than he ought to. "I was a Viking."

[sidhe_king]

"Were you?" he asks, indulgent. "And how old do you think I am?"

[onceaviking]

Eric fights to keep his eyes open.

He feels warm. Warm and floating and happy. His hand comes to rest to on Finn's belly.

"Ancient," he chuckles. "I can taste it. Centuries. Millennia."

He tries to kiss Finn again.

[sidhe_king]

Finn just chuckles, and lets Eric kiss him, comfortably lying close in the tall grass and clover. "You can taste it. What do we taste like, then? You said sunshine earlier."

He slings his leg over Eric's hip and lets the borrowed strength from the blood he swallowed flood through him, leaving him feeling at peace.

[onceaviking]

"Mmmm, sunshine," Eric slurs. "The sea. Bread."

He closes his eyes. "Apples. Wine."

He sounds sad now. Longing. A single tear trickles down his cheek, leaving a bloody trail.

[sidhe_king]

The tear gets wiped away by a swipe of Finn's thumb with a soft contemplative hum. "It makes you melancholy," he says lightly, not a question as much as a statement. "Thinking of...apples and wine?"

[onceaviking]

"Sometimes - I miss it."

Being alive.

It's a secret so deep that he does not even know it himself, teased out by the powerful fairy blood.

[sidhe_king]

"Your kind always do," murmurs the sidhe.

[onceaviking]

"Not my Maker," Eric murmurs in answer, this time on the very edge of dozing off.

There're emotions in his voice. Love perhaps.

[sidhe_king]

"No," he answers. "Your keeper, for now. Sleep, child," he whispers from bloody lips into Eric's ear, just loud enough to be recognized as words.

[onceaviking]

And he sleeps. Not the sleep of the vampire, which is nothing but being a corpse, but a sleep closer to that of a mortal creature.


Dreaming.

[sidhe_king]

Finvarra stays; long enough to be sure the dreams aren't too strange--his blood can do strange things, he knows.

But to dream is a luxury he won't deny another creature.

[onceaviking]

(ooc: Thank you for a lovely thread. Eric is shaken to his core)

[sidhe_king]

[ooc: Oh dear, I hope in a good way.]